Author's Note: No Swiss people were harmed in the making of this chapter. Except for the Swiss Miss Girl, because she deserved it.

Impraesentiarum, Part V (by Lady Guinevere).

Not surprisingly, Severus Snape woke up with a splitting headache.

he groaned incomprehensibly, muttering obscenities under his breath and throwing the wind-up cuckoo clock across the room. It hit the stone wall, clattering down in a jumble of springs, nuts and bolts. Awk! Awk! Awk! The raven croaked weakly. A pox The annoying sound degenerated rapidly into something vaguely resembling the bleats of a dying goat, then faded out altogether.

They just don't make them like they used to, Snape muttered. Those damned Swiss. He rolled over to go back to sleep. Only then did he notice that something else was in his bed. A warm, slender, frizzy something. Hmm, he thought drowsily. Smells like peaches.

Peaches?!?

Snape ripped of the covers. There lay Hermione Granger, clad in nothing but a few revealing pieces of red silk resembling a negligee Victoria's Secret would be ashamed to sell. She grinned up at him. Was it as dirty for you as it was for me?

Severus screamed.

AWK! AWK! AWK!

Professor Snape shot bolt upright in bed, pressing a sweaty hand to the clammy skin on his forehead. It was a dream. He practically rolled his eyes at himself. Of course it was a dream, you stupid git. When was the last time you slept with a student—your student?

He chose not to answer his own question.

Snape sighed in frustration, remembering the disastrouswait, make that catastrophic encounter of yesterday evening. Well, at least he hadn't broken his—

the remains of his alarm sputtered from the corner of the room.

Bloody Hell, he muttered darkly, springing out of his bed. I really need to make more Dreamless Sleep Potion one of these days.

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Granger, wake up!

Hermione mumbled, burrowing further under her pillow. Lavender sighed in frustration. Beauty sleep was one thing. Having your prefect wake up last in the entire tower, however

Come on! She shook the bundle of blankets and brown hair harder. We're going to be last to breakfast! Parvati, she exclaimed, shrugging at her other roommate helplessly. I think she's catatonic or something.

the third girl asked, confused.

Hermione whimpered. Maybe if she concentrated hard enough, they would shrivel up. Then Crookshanks would finish them off. Maybe if she concentrated really hard

The blanket ripped away from her body like a limp bandage, and Parvati drew the curtains back, flooding the chamber with sunlight.

Damn.

If her two rather prickly prima donnas for roommates hadn't thrown lip gloss, soap and a toothbrush in her direction, she might have fallen asleep with her head in the toilet. Beneath the fuzzy haze, she knew she wouldn't remember why today was going to be the worst day of her life.

Why were you out so late last night? Lavender asked, inspecting her skin for imperfections in the mirror.

Oh, no.

I don't want to talk about it, she snapped. There they were again—the butterflies in her stomach that meant she was going to regret eating breakfast before she finished it. Please don't ask again, she pleaded silently. Please don't ask me to explain why I'm a lousy prefect who's dumb enough to wander around by herself in the Forbidden Forest, run blindly into the inner circle of a Death Eaters meeting, nearly get myself killed and end up as the fiancée of the most feared, obnoxious teacher in the school in a total of less than five minutes. Because if you do, I'm going to kill you. Or myself. Damn butterflies.

Parvati said hesitantly. She looked at Lavender, who shrugged.

Hermione literally sagged in relief.

Lavender countered mischievously, if you were seeing a guy, we're going to find out.

The butterflies decided on several triple-inverted loops.

Harry and Ron were going to notice something was wrong as soon as they sat down at breakfast. That was, if she didn't pull herself together first.

She had let her friends go ahead of her so as not to look like Death warmed over in front of the entire school. Mustering as much composure as she could under the circumstance, Hermione sat down quickly at the Gryffindor table, throwing smiles and congenial, if slightly curt hello's at the two boys. She avoided looking at Snape for the entire meal, but she knew he was there. The hairs on the back of her neck were wagering on it.

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At the high table, Dumbledore engaged himself in conversation with the other teachers, leaving Snape to eat in peace. Doesn't mean he's going to help the matter any, Snape thought irritably. The old man's probably concocting several ingenious ways to make my life a living hell at this very moment for the sake of playing along.'

As if on cue, Professor McGonagall turned to Severus. Well, dear, she intoned neutrally, knowing full well how uncomfortable she always made him when she disapproved of something and opted not to say so. It seems I was mistaken. You do like them young.

Severus coughed and spat out his seaweed soup.

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Breakfast was over. Hermione stood up, grabbed her books and bolted for the door. Glancing back, she saw that Snape had risen from his chair and was looking straight at her. He moved to approach her, and she ducked and stumbled quickly into the hall, emitting a small yelp. Well, congratulations, Granger. You're officially the living witch comet. Bet no one noticed that little debacle of derangement.

She had to admit, though, she was fast, and she had avoided throwing up all over the waffles.

Prenuptial jitters? Or were you running off to pick out your bridesmaids' gowns? a familiar voice sneered.

Apparently not fast enough.

Hermione turned to see Draco Malfoy leaning lazily against a wall, smirking at her in that infuriatingly arrogant manner that reminded her of just how much she hated him. Not to mention how little he thought of her.

I was wandering around last night, on my way to a fireplace for a little chat with father, he said nonchalantly, gazing with satisfaction at his manicured fingernails, when I heard noises in the East Corridor. Naturally, being the inquisitive and curious fellow that I am, he grinned at this, I decided to investigate.

Hermione paled, feeling her throat constrict against her will. A cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. She stared straight ahead, saying nothing.

Guess who I found, of all people, arguing with the Slytherin Head of House? He smiled, and it was the coy enticement of a serpent to a mouse before it revealed its fangs. Why, none other than Gryffindor's virtuous Head Girl, the picture of innocence and perfection— Hermione Granger. Draco stood up and slowly approached her with slow, confident steps, playfully feigning perplexity. What are we going to do with you?

You don't know anything, Hermione hissed.

That's right. I didn't. Until I talked to my father and he told me everything. His feral eyes swept over her like a hawk. I must say, shagging a teacher is far beyond my expectations of you, Mudblood. I never thought you'd sink as low as Snape to keep your grades up. Bust I guess that's not the only thing you want to keep up, is it?

She didn't know what infuriated her more— his insinuations at her intentions, or his insulting of Professor Snape. Before he could blink, she had him pinned against the wall, her wand under his chin.

Listen, Ferret Boy, she hissed, and listen well, or you're going to lose the tool you keep referring to. He swallowed, and she finally partook of his fear. She was, after all, the best Charms student at Hogwarts. Scratch that. The best student at everything. He relaxed.

Good. I swear, if you so much as gesture at Snape inappropriately, I'm going to hex you so fast it'll make your knickers knot. Your father may have his little games, but Snape has a school to teach, and you'd best not meddle in things that your father can handle a lot better. Slander him, and face me, along with the entire faculty. What he does to serve the Dark Lord is his business.

So he knew she was with Severus. Did that mean he would go and shout it from the turrets? Probably. But Hermione also knew that he still thought Snape was loyal to Voldemort, and the thought of her hurting his father's cause would vex him. If Lucius hadn't listened to his rants about her last night, he never would without evidence. And that meant she was safe. For the time being.

He knew. She knew. And it would stay that way until he could prove anything was wrong. Draco eventually nodded. Satisfied, she backed away.

I hope you don't expect me to believe that you're actually in league with You-Know-Who, he scoffed, rubbing at his throat. Don't think I'll forget this. I know who you are and what you and your kind believe. The minute you betray Snape, I'm handing your sorry arse over to my father.

she replied. Regardless of your stupidity, I am not an enemy of the Heir of Slytherin. This stays between us. She laughed harshly. Take your anger out on me, Malfoy. I'd like to see you try.

Draco narrowed his eyes. As you wish, he muttered darkly, but Hermione didn't hear him. To her, he merely nodded. Without a backward glance, he whirled, disappearing around a corner.

Hermione's knees sagged as she leaned heavily against the cool surface of the wall.

It was going to be a long semester.