I think we should all know by now. I don't own it. If I only could.
AN: I'm Sorry! (Ducks objects thrown at head). It wasn't all my fault, remember, fanfiction.net decided to switch at that particular moment. Don't flame me, please.
Ch. 2 An Imbroglio in 3 Quarters Time
As we dance our silk clad bodies
Across the endless sea of time
Who of us will know will notice the oddities
Who of us will notice we no longer move with reason or rhyme
We shall be as nameless and faceless as we would have ourselves to be
Orange pumpkins floated between rafter and tables, sending light down upon the faces of an eagerly waiting crowd of 6th and 7th years. Black and orange candles finished off the ambiance of the holiday and set the familiar glow of warm light to chase off the chill. Upon the high dais sat the teachers, one of whom was looking more agitated than usual - in fact, he looked down-right mad. S. Snape looked out into the sea of costume-clad bodies and scowled; that damned Hermione Granger was dancing with Ronald Weasley, occasionally changing to dance with Draco or Harry. That little voice echoed in his head once again, reminding him of his jealousy. One cannot rest from their conscience, but he learned to keep it on a short leash.
Tonight was going to last forever.
~o0o~
"Calm down, mate. It's not like she jumped out and flew off to the forest!" Harry gave a nervous laugh; she could have, but not bloody likely. Ron just continued the nervous actions of his hands and when he felt a loose pressure on his shoulder he jumped and quite nearly yelped. This time it was Draco.
"We're just fraying your nerves further. Harry and I will be at a table, listen to me."
Ron forced himself to look up at the blond in front of him.
"Hermione didn't tell you yes if she didn't want to. She likes you, and you've been through a lot together, you can make it through a dance."
A red head smiled at blond, extremely grateful for words that six years ago no one would have thought possible. After Harry and his date left, Ron waited patiently by the stairs; he didn't have to wait long, though. Floating down the stairs, seemingly on air, Hermione smiled brightly. She was truly radiant. Somehow Ron gathered himself and held out his hand to the young woman on the stairs, "You're absolutely radiant, Hermione, absolutely."
She accepted the compliment gracefully - Hermione Granger wasn't the same girl that he used to know. "Thank you, Ron. You look nice too." If he wouldn't have been so enraptured, the redhead would have noticed the almost inaudible sigh that Hermione breathed as she took his hand and left towards the hall.
~o0o~
She could feel his eyes bearing down upon her, the intensity was such that it made her feel breathless. What was wrong with the man? Switching partners with Draco, Ron gave Hermione's hand to Harry, who gently put it in his own. Harry could feel the tension in his best friend and he laid his head down on her shoulders to talk easier. "Hermione? What is the matter? You feel really tense."
"Harry, look up at the teachers' table, what do you see?"
"I just see everyone talking, why?"
Hermione moved closer to her friend; he could practically feel her shake as they turned round the floor. "Look at Snape."
"He's looking - no, staring at us, more specifically you. Why is he staring at you, Hermione?"
"I don't know. Ever since…" Oops, she went too far.
"Since what?" They continued to glide around, so that no one would be suspicious. Harry's voice became more insistent. "Since what?"
"Since my detention. He called me a whore and I called him an arse…"
"He called you a ^what^? Hermione, you don't have to put-"
"Harry, I know, it's okay. Please don't tell Ron! I can handle myself. And he didn't come right out and say it; it was only implied, but, Harry. Please don't tell Ron, please?" Harry looked at Hermione with concern in his eyes, but if she didn't want him in this it was none of his business, he could do nothing.
She hugged him tightly. "I will, Harry, I will. I promise." He hugged her back; he didn't think that she would. He led Hermione over to the side of the dance floor, doing his best to keep the girl out of sight. He trusted Snape because of his efforts for the war, but Harry swore that animosity from him could go a long way and kill you. The grateful smile on Hermione's face spoke volumes; he couldn't help but feel a slight bit of jealousy towards Ron. The young man had a beautiful, intelligent and witty girl; if Ron messed things up, he was a fool. Slowly releasing Harry, Hermione smiled, "Thank you."
Wordlessly he let her go, then chatted amiably to Lavender and Justin with Draco, leaving Ron and Hermione to drift outside to the relative privacy of the gardens. Sighing contentedly, Ron took Hermione's hand in his on and led her down to a bench. Wondering what he was going to say, the brunette acquiesced to his wishes. "I know that we've been friends for a long time and that we've been through to many things." As Ron paused a forlorn look washed over her face, he was the one who was keeping her from worrying over Snape, now he was going to dump her. "I just wanted to say thank you. And I want to know that I love you." What?
Not knowing what to say, Hermione threw herself into Ron's arms as she burst into tears, only managing to say his name in-between sobs. Ron held her as she dried her tears, his confusion evident on his face, but when she stopped and reached up to kiss him his fears were allayed. So, Snape thought she was a slut? If it weren't for the situation, Hermione would have laughed.
At first their kisses were tentative, lips barely touching, asking permission, then a deepening. Mouths opening, tongues tasting, gently prodding, entering then twining together in a passionate dance that left each gasping for air. Hermione found herself sitting in her boyfriend's lap, grinning up at him, his arms had twined around her slender waist. Deciding to go for a second try, Ron leaned in, hoping - hoping and praying that the girl in his arms was no dream but reality. No dream indeed as she twined his hair around her fingers. He groaned into her mouth; she was intoxicating.
Hermione melted into his arms, kissing Ron just as much as he was her. They did not even realize how much time had passed nor who was around until a hand was laid on the Head-Girl's shoulder and she was pulled rather roughly off of Ron's lap. "Fifty points from Gryffindor for indecent public displays of affection, Miss Granger, same to you Mr. Weasley. I suggest you get back inside the school and to your separate dorms." Hermione knew that voice; the dark man behind her was Professor Severus Snape, esteemed Potion's Master, secret spy for the light, and known for sticking his nose in other people's affairs. Gathering themselves together, the red-head and brunette walked off towards the castle under the watchful eye of Snape.
At the stairs, Hermione and Ron split off, almost as if by unspoken agreement, leaving Severus to a decision as to which one to follow. He chose to follow the Head Girl, his suspicions only heightened and his twisted little mind laughed in glee. The act to quell it was too ineffective an action to really matter. He knew he shouldn't have called her a slut; he hadn't even called her a slut, no, he was too cultured for that, but he had sure as hell implied it. Hah, she was definitely trying to prove it, wasn't she? As if she knew his thoughts, she slowed to an infuriating saunter. The little wench. Vaguely, Severus wondered why she hadn't been put into Slytherin, she definitely had many of the house's honorable and admirable traits. His patience wore thin, another one of the said house's characteristics, and he grabbed her by the arm. "Miss Granger," he hissed, "you are well aware that willingly disobeying a teacher will get you detention."
The usual cower that accompanied his scowl was absent; instead Hermione smiled up at her Potions professor and managed, somehow, to speak without guile. "Oh, I'm quite aware of that, Professor. However, you never said how fast I had to get back to my dorm. I believe you never said any such thing." The cheek of this insolent little girl, no, not girl, woman, to mock him, he was losing his touch.
"I wasn't aware that you were so adept at insults."
She shrugged nonchalantly, even with his grip on her arm, "I had a good role model."
"And how much did you learn from your role model?"
"Enough to be a snarky git."
Outraged at her comment, the grip on her arm tightened, but she only laughed, "Watch it, my esteemed professor, imagine if one of the many gossips see us! Another insult added besides that you're a malignant bat, but you also abuse your students! Come on, Snape, let go." She had no idea where her sudden courage had come from, but she wasn't going to give it up. Reckless she may be but the solidity of her nerve amazed the dark man who gripped her arm. What was on this girl's mind? Had she lost her sanity while she was kissing that boy? She surprised him more everyday.
The grip loosened; he had not realized how tightly he had held her. There was a bruise forming, bright upon her arm. He stared and started to lose himself, or at least his sarcastic edge. They were dangerously near to each other; her eyes were a deep chocolate and they seemed to twinkle like she somehow knew something more than whomever she gazed at. He was drowning and he couldn't fight his way to air; he was getting dizzy, those eyes were taking away his breath, he was dizzy. Drowning. She reached up and caressed Severus's face: the spell broke, both drew back. Realizing he couldn't let it drop, Snape balked at the show of tenderness and essentially switched gears. A shaky breath, a faltering resolve, "Miss Granger," yes, he was losing this quickly. He began again, "Miss Granger, you have detention. I will expect you in my room at 7 tomorrow night."
Without much more, he left a very confused and bewildered Hermione Granger, behind him, staring at her hand that had disobeyed her mind, but answered something else.
~o0o~
The "Malignant Bat" had fled, his dungeon rooms his sanctuary. The tumbler slipped from his fingers to the floor, already empty, the glass rolled away, the scotch now in his blood. Impossible actions now lost upon his unconscious form, sitting on an overstuffed chair in a cold, empty room that he called his own.
~o0o~
Left to her own devices, the Head-Girl read away her troubles, falling into something, anything, familiar, anything to take her mind off of what had transpired. The book was open, once again to Magic in the Middle Ages: A Historic Guide to the Burning Times, the page, 157, she had not realized that she had been reading it over and over. It did not matter now since she was mercifully asleep and only dreaming about normal things, not any dark man, or so she tried to tell herself when she woke up.
End Ch 3
I would like to say thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, I never thought that I would get any. Kudos to:
HunnySnowBunny: I tried to keep them that way!
Piper: OMG, 2 times? Thank You!
MadAboutHarry and Rhianna: Sorry, but I just do what my muse tells me, hope you like it otherwise.
silent nose: I have to agree, just imagine him in the shower!
jenthewriter: Don't let it kill you. I promise I'll get more out.
Eternal Queen: You flatter me.
Cassandra: I'm glad that you think it. I'm already almost done with the next chapie, so…
To everyone else (labrisa, Lady Tiffany, Caroline, nightbeauty) you were wonderful. Thanks so much. What is it? Yes, Vielen Danke! (SP?) Does anybody else know if that's right, my German tutor is such a putz, you'd think with a college degree he could help a poor little peon with her work!~
Her Lover's Spy~
