Chapter Four
Hermione took a deep breath at the entrance to the dungeon. This breath was ritualistic for before each new class, of every first day she'd been attending the school; but this time – on this threshold – the breath was much deeper than any of those that came before. Harry and Ron were not with her, as they usually were. Neither of them had this Advanced class she'd opted to take. That didn't surprise her, of course. Professor Snape had owled her about it, saying it was a privilege for one as young as she. Usually, his message had stated, students didn't have the chance for it until far, far after graduation –which was very much indeed too late. Others got the chance at it upon their 7th year, but they were few and far between. She, the note had said in Snape's painfully neat handwriting, was the first student in about 20 years to be given a chance at admission into the class as a mere 5th year.
Of course, this was beyond temptation to Hermione, so she all but jumped at the chance. And besides, it was just another chance to prove to those bloody nay-sayers in the school (particularly the likes of Draco Malfoy) that she, a girl born from a Muggle family, could be even more brilliant than the lot of them. This wasn't her main drive, of course – she always strived to be the best she could be at anything – but, her want to show herself as beyond the norm was a great part of her endless stamina when it came to school (or anything else for that matter).
She walked down to the class room, the corridors winding and eerily silent as she navigated them with quick steps. When she reached her destination, she found that three other students were already there, waiting. Two of them were boys, each Ravenclaws in their 7th year. They regarded her with nods and mere silence, acknowledging her right to be there –despite her young age. The third person in the room was a girl, and one that Hermione knew only by sight and rumor. Bella Cinder.
This girl looked at the 5th year Gryffindor with little interest, but nodded to her just the same. Bella's attention then went to a book she was reading – though Hermione noticed that her eyes flashed to the open doorway more than about three times in less than 20 seconds.
"Aren't you going to sit down?" The voice belonged to one of the Ravenclaw youths. He was unremarkable in the looks department, having very plain features with short, sandy hair and dull gray eyes. Hermione knew him from the library, of course. His first name was Marcus. She couldn't remember his last name. She didn't reply to him, only took a seat quickly, landing herself two tables away from Miss Cinder. That's when she noticed that their were name cards on the desks.
"I didn't know your name was Bryden." Marcus stated, looking at the name card she'd plopped down before.
"You're over here, Granger." Bella stated, eyes still flashing between the doorway and her book. "With me."
"Dirty luck." Marcus smirked to Hermione. Bella didn't seem to notice it, being so absorbed in her present interests. Not giving a real reaction herself, Hermione picked up her belongings and went to Bella's side at the two-seater table in the dead center of the room. As she did, another four students joined them. Three more Ravenclaws and a couple of Hufflepuffs – all of whom Hermione was familiar with, had spoken with once or twice, but none of which were any she really could call a good acquaintance. She felt very alone in the classroom, her seating partner still only minding her book and the door. And then, almost as if by a bit of magic of it's own, Bella's lips perked into a small, shy smile. It was almost if she heard something she'd been waiting for. Hermione could only guess . . . but . . .
Seconds later, cutting off her thoughts, Professor Snape entered the room – his orders for them to take out their quills already passing his thin lips. He slammed the door behind himself, moving to his desk in his usual sweeping way. Bella's eyes were locked on him, but her face read none of the annoyance that the other students had stamped upon their own. How very . . . odd? Hermione thought. Not to mention interesting. I wonder if Snape notices?
"Miss Granger." The voice of the man in question cut quick and deep through her thoughts. Her eyes flickered to him in less than a second, her skin prickling in something that was akin to fear. He's going to humiliate me, I know it . . . "Would you kindly introduce us to your reasons for boring holes into the side of Miss Cinder's face? Especially when her ear doesn't have the lesson written upon it?" Yup, as predictable as ever.
The class around her allowed a few snickers to escape, but a sharp word from Snape silenced them.
"Well, Miss Granger? We're waiting for you to enlighten us." Two seconds passed. She opened her mouth. Snape cut her off. "I see you've bitten off the end of your tongue then. That's 5 points from Gryffindor. I'll see you after class as well. Now, if I were you – I'd put my attention where it belonged . . . on-the-lesson."
Said lesson went slowly, the class lasting longer than the average would, which didn't surprise anyone. When it was over, Hermione stayed behind – going to Snape's desk reluctantly. As she did, Bella was leaving – her cheeks blushing a little as she past their dreaded teacher. He was sitting at his desk, seemingly interested in neither of them.
And then, his voice cut threw the air in it's silky manner.
"Miss Cinder, do stay a moment." He looked up, his obsidian eyes locking on Hermione. Bella obeyed him, looking between the two of them with some curiosity – her cheeks burning with this simple attention. "Would you mind giving a few moments to Miss Granger to talk about what she didn't find on your ear this afternoon? I'm sure she could use the information, as she's rumored to be very particular about her classes."
"No, sir, I wouldn't mind." Bella replied, her eyes then locked onto the floor. Her face was about the shade of Ron's hair. Hermione was sure Snape had to notice, but he seemed not to. Curious, very curious. . .
"Very well. Thank you, Miss Cinder – you may go." They watched the student leave. His eyes locked onto Hermione once more. "I trust this won't happen again, Miss Granger? After all, I'd hate to rethink your presence in this class."
*
Hermione sat in the Gryffindor Common room later that evening, her eyes scanning the words in her Arithmancy book – though her brain wasn't taking in any of the information the tome had to give. Instead, her mind was on the blatant infatuation that Bella Cinder had for Professor Snape. How very . . . well, there is a word for it, I'm sure . . . but . . . Hmmm. How could anyone have a crush on that overgrown bat?
"Hermione?" Ron's annoyed voice brought her out of her pondering.
"Yes, Ron?" She asked, letting her eyes scan her book. This time, her mind took in the information – though it was cut between that and the boy who sat playing chess with Harry Potter. Well, the game looked abandoned then. A letter had fallen to the middle of the board, and an owl was then leaving through the opened window.
"You have a message." Harry told her, handing her the letter that had ruined the game. Ron, his face set into an annoyed stance, began to pick up the pieces.
*
Bella sat in the library, her notes from that day's Advanced Potions class spread out before her. She was waiting for Hermione Granger to join her, hoping that the idiotic school owl had gotten to the girl. If they waited any longer to get started, they'd be banished to their dorm rooms before they got any work done. Not that they had much to do, but she wanted to go back to her solitude as quickly as possible. If this hadn't been at Professor Snape's request – she would be up in her room at that very second, listening to her music faerie and playing with Meow, or reading, or studying . . . or thinking about Professor Snape and how he smelled of spices and smoke. Damn this Granger. Why was she watching me? Maybe she's a lesbian? Hmm . . . . It didn't occur to her then that she'd let her secret fan out to the wind and the classroom. It didn't occur to her that someone would ever notice. After all, when she wasn't being tormented by her Slytherin brethren, she was practically invisible – so why should she guess that Hermione was catching on to her infatuation with their Potions Professor? Still, something inside of her told her to be wary of this little Gryffindor. But, why should she guess that anyone but he knew about it? Unwittingly, her thoughts went to him.
He knows. That's obvious. But, he wasn't saying anything. When is he going to bring it up? She thought, her eyes narrowing. He's itching to. Has to be. Then, her eyes widened. And if she knows. . . Her eyes narrowed once more, this time – with malice. Well, we'll just see how this shall be, shall we not?
Just then, Hermione entered the library. Bella looked up at her with some curiosity that was well hidden, now that she was on guard.
Granger currently had a true Slytherin to deal with – not sniveling, prejudiced Malfoy or his goons, nor the freakish purists whom garlanded their house. No, she had a true Slytherin to handle in Bella Cinder.
Bella nearly felt pity for her, until she let her calculating, wary nature take over in one final wave of self preservation.