A/N HP don't belong to me. Damn, I didn't think it up.

Thanks to my beta Emily, who worked on this even though she had her Prom last weekend.

More thanks to the ladies at WIKTT, they are a lot of fun just to listen too.

Under the full moon light we dance,
Spirits dance, we dance
Joining souls rejoice

~Libeana, A Circle is Cast

Tis the Season

It was the principal of the thing - or so Ellen had insisted - that the group attend the Halloween Feast masked. The others had never experienced a proper and scary Halloween. Apparently magic meant not having a masquerade.

The trio worked diligently on creating just the right effects and when they finished, they all conceded that Ellen's was by far the scariest. A swirling design of blood red and pitch black falling into two deep disturbing eyes, she had worked forever on the charms. Ian and Carla's costumes, while much simpler, were nevertheless certain to strike fear into the students' hearts when the three Slytherin first-years entered the Halloween Feast.

The entire school looked forward to the holiday feasts. They were a short, pleasant time when the atmosphere of Hogwarts became more relaxed and jovial, and the guard between students and teachers loosened. The only rule the students had to follow around these times was to have fun.

However, there were always a few "party-poopers", as Sprout had so eloquently described them.

This year the party poopers were Professors Malfoy and Snape.

Severus being a low point at the feast was usually expected, but in the past few months he had appeared to stay longer at suppers without intelligible reason, and there was hope among some of the teachers that he might even crack a non-sarcastic joke at some point. They had no luck at it though, despite all of the little improvements.

Draco, however, had remained sullen and downwards, occasionally setting himself upwards and trying to display some of his old personality. But it was inconsistent and he never really seemed to put much effort into the façade.

It was unnerving for Ellen and the rest of her little group to watch the head of Slytherin house and their Dark Arts teacher moping around like angst-ridden teenagers after a bad date. This felt particularly strange for Ellen, having to watch her favorite professors, especially Snape, who she had studied a little bit with at night on Wednesdays, be so melancholy. She had heard that she was the very first person who Snape had let stay with him after classes without being in trouble.

Ellen was a very proud person-everything she had done she did for herself. Staying and talking with Snape had made her someone to be reckoned with among the other first years. It was quite nice, walking down the hallways and having students in all years look at her with puzzled expressions. Somehow, having a seventh year watch her made her feel immensely powerful. She liked the feeling. It wrapped around her heart and refused to take leave.

Ellen watched Snape and Malfoy with particular interest through the eyes of her enchanted mask. They looked up at her at different times, each paling and turning back to their previous conversation.

"That is a very interesting mask that Ellen has there, eh, Severus?" Hermione asked.

"I believe it is rather… frightening… to some people." Snape responded, half-civilly.

If she had been any younger, Hermione would have rolled her eyes, but she kept her composure instead. "Severus, if you were any more pale you'd be transparent." She looked at him with the typical Gryffindor concern. "Are you alright?"

Draco suddenly interrupted. "It's a very frightening mask to former Death Eaters. It's a face that Voldemort used before to scare the daylights out of his followers and opposition… I'm curious as to why Albus hasn't said anything about it yet."

"Because if we let our fear get in our way we will never move away from it." Dumbledore strolled over. Hermione sat up straighter when he spoke, an unconscious habit still held over from school. She noticed that Draco had the same response.

"Of course," Snape looked the headmaster straight in the eyes. "But is it wise to let a first year wear something that powerful?"

"It is only powerful in the wrong hands. I should hope that a first year wouldn't know the power behind the eyes of that mask."

"But there's something about her, Hermione, that doesn't ring right."

Did Severus just call me Hermione? "With you, Severus, nothing rings right unless it's found within ingredients."

"Miss Granger…" Severus looked up at Albus, who smiled with a twinkle in his eye.

"She has the same intelligence you did at that age."

"Then I congratulate her. It's not an easy thing to handle."

Ahh, it was a fluke, of course he'd never call be by my first name.

The music, ever present during their conversation, became louder, providing an escape. Draco stood up with a look that wasn't present only a minute ago. "The ancient Celts used Samhain as a night where the laws were meant to be broken…" He smiled a devious little smile. "Hermione, care to dance?"

With a bemused expression, the brunette laughed. "Well, in the spirit of breaking rules and regulations…" she accepted an outstretched hand, not even caring that Severus gave Draco a very suspicious look.

--

The students' heads snapped around as they noticed Professor Malfoy leading a flustered and amused Professor Granger out to the dance floor. They danced, keeping a respectful distance from each other, not wanting some of the more inclined rumors to start circulating.

Refusing to be outdone, a few of the seventh year Gryffindors trotted out to the floor, testing their daring, and danced much closer than their teachers.

"What are you doing Malfoy?" Hermione asked

"Dancing"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Obviously. Why, pray tell, are you dancing with me?"

"Because I don't think I'd make it through the Swede's defenses." He smiled one of his Slytherin smiles. "And to make amends."

"By making a public spectacle of yourself?"

"I was a right prat," Draco admitted. "I never really had friends. You had Harry and Ron, while I had the goon squad and my prejudices as my backup. Now I have nothing and…I want to change that." He turned her and Hermione now watched as Severus averted his eyes from his former students. "A step at a time."

"You are an idiot, you know that?. A purebred idiot."

"Born and raised by my…" he stammered, "my father."

The song ended and Draco removed his hands from Hermione's waist and shoulder, and they clapped as they walked back to the elevated table.

"What are you doing, Ellen, bucking up for Prefect already?" Carla asked, jabbing Ian in the ribs and making him cough up a piece of fruit.

"What do you mean?"

"You met with Professor Snape after class again!" Ian interjected, grabbing another piece of food.

"He wanted to thank me for volunteering to help Carla's brother. No offense, Carla but he's hopeless. Don't knock it; he gave our house 10 points. We could win this year thanks to me."

"Would be a great thing, I mean, Ravenclaw won last year." Ian swallowed his food as he spoke with great disdain.

Two fifth-year Hufflepuffs looked over, pointing at Ellen's mask. She turned to look at them and smiled just the tiniest of smiles as they gaped. One turned around in terror, and the other smiled right back with grating steel eyes.

"Creepy," Ellen remarked, turning back to her friends at the Slytherin table. "Everyone looks at me funny, as if I grew a second head."

The night continued on, the new dancing tradition firmly in place. Draco and Hermione gratefully avoided each other for the rest of the night, to remove any sort of suspicions. Draco even had managed to ask Ingrid to the floor, or rather, she had come and said, "I know, I'll dance." Which amused Hermione and surprisingly, Severus, to no end. The blondes went to dance, looking like a perfect couple.

"He looks happy," Hermione said, directing the comment towards Severus.

"He's not." He replied, his voice completely monotone.

"I know, but it's nice to think he might be."

Snape's response was to stand up. "I'm leaving. I have lessons to prepare." He glided past Hermione's chair, a stray hand brushing up against her side.

Damn, he's cold. Hermione shuddered slightly.

November 3

The hallway between classes was usually busy but today it was lethargic in its pace, silent and hardly moving. A tall boy with harsh steel eyes walked calmly into his class.

"Hey, first-year."

"Yes?" Ellen faced the tall boy, who looked at her intently with those grating silver eyes.

"I'm Jeremiah." He ran his hand over his shaved head. "And that's all you need to know right now." He made a curious gesture with his left hand. "Once you know what that means, I'll find you." He quickly turned on his heel, leaving her dumbfounded.

"How odd," Ellen said as she finished walking to her classroom, filing this strange occurrence for later reference.

December 15

Ellen and Carla's room had been done up ceiling to floor in drapery by Carla, all done in house colors. Pictures of family, Quidditch stars and Wizard singers filled the little empty spaces

"Leaving much?"

"Yeah, I'm just going home for Holidays," Carla responded to Ellen's badgering.

"Same here, I haven't seen Mother in ages…At least that's what it feels like," Ellen replied finally after a minute. "But I'm not sure she'll be happy to see me. For someone who married a wizard, she's…."

"Uptight? Anal?" Carla turned from fixing the curtains in their room. "Prejudiced?"

"Something like that, yes."

Carla grabbed a picture from her dresser, bringing it over for Ellen to see. It was of a rather dishy young man, smiling and picking up Carla, throwing her over his shoulder. Carla wasn't a beauty, but this man definitely was. "Look." She fell onto Ellen's bed. "My older brother Max, 19. He works in Transfiguration Research."

"He's nice!"

"No way! That's my brother you're talking about!" Carla sighed. "But he's so powerful. Research doesn't suit him very well. He could be, like, an Auror, but he's scared."

"I'm not afraid of anything."

"I know. Why do you think we're friends?"

"Why don't we go harass your brother? He's going to fail potions without my help."

Christmas Holidays

Hermione was working to finish grading the last papers she had assigned. She knew she had plenty of time to do them, but the urgency was just there today. She was reading a particularly horrid work that a fifth year had turned in when a slightly accented voice called to her. "Hermione, may I ask a favor?"

"What is it, Ingrid?" Hermione sighed, not looking up. "I'm grading."

Several older students and adults looked into the room. "I'm holding a lecture on the uses of Tarot." She glanced about nervously. "Will you be my test dummy?"

"You are the psychic. You know the answer."

"I need someone who doesn't buy into the whole 'tea leaves' thing."

Hermione looked up and gave her a hard stare. "Fine," She conceded, an exasperated 'you-owe-me' look flashing across her face.

Ingrid quickly ushered her into the new Divination classroom and sat Hermione down at the table. "Cut the deck." Hermione obliged.

Closing her eyes, Ingrid set up a very simple layout. "Your main trouble in life is behind you, but it's after-effects are preventing you from living fully. The first thing you must do is forgive yourself for something you had to do…"

Uh-huh…easy for you…

"You have someone special coming your way. One you already know, but one you wouldn't expect."

Let's see, Ron's getting married, Harry's hardly awake… Malfoy? Why the hell am I taking this seriously? Because, Hermione, she makes more sense. No, they are just general claims.

Ingrid's eyes opened and they had a very frosty look to them. "Finally, there is something powerful coming that you and others must stop. Otherwise, all you have done has been for nothing." Her eyes unglazed and her voice sounded urgent. "Did I just say something? Quickly! Someone write it down!"

Maybe, just maybe, this Swede has a real power.

Hermione, pushing away the whole nonsense of earlier, finally sat down to write some letters. Picking up her quill she put ink to parchment.

Ron,

Just have the wedding at one of schools! Dumbledore would go along with it, I'm sure. Just get married already. I already have to wait five more years to get a Weasley to teach, I don't want to wait more than I have to for one of yours.

Hermione

--

The New Year came and went, as it tends to do. Hermione found herself finishing grading papers as the clock struck 11:30. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in." The unholy and disruptive trio of Tea Leaf, Blondie, and Grumpy appeared at her door. The blondes appeared to be thoroughly smashed and enjoying themselves. "Do you have anything better to do than get drunk?"

"They don't," Severus had replied. "I do. Minerva asked me to invite you to her little party. I got sidetracked by these two."

"I'll go. Take me with you Severus. Please." Hermione sighed, "I have no interest in spending the New Year alone already."

If she had been looking at Snape, she would have noticed a slight jump in his features, as he looked her over with his own slightly hazy eyesight after not enjoying a few drinks with Malfoy and the Swede. She wasn't unattractive, by any means, but not really beautiful. She had grown into her hair, he figured, and the body she now possessed…

He shook away the thoughts that leaked into his brain. Not proper, not right, and not the musings of a sane man.

The party had more alcohol, stuff that made Muggle beer cry itself to sleep, and Hermione made herself more than just a little tipsy in just a few minutes. Suddenly she heard a countdown begin, and she remembered a little custom her mother joked about.

At the count of one, she grabbed the nearest person and kissed him. To her surprise, the returning kiss was quick and warm, and she pulled away as quickly as her alcohol-muddled brain would let her. She looked up and realized she had kissed Professor Grumpy himself. She burst out in giggles and apologized as she stumbled away.

She never saw Severus' secret smile.

Next time on Miserere: The Scholar. Hermione decides to approach the Potions Master. And just what good is a drunk Divination teacher?

Oh and to whoever said that Ingrid knows something about Ellen…Of course she does. She's got her tea leaves. Our little Swede should be a Slytherin at times.

Speaking of Slytherin, Ellen is a fun girl to write for. She gets even better later on. Seriously, I have a full page of notes on her little storyline.

And please review, it's simple and easy, and notes beget notes. I usually try to review something of whoever gives me notes.