Friends Lie - Chapter One

"I can't believe I was talked into this," muttered Hermione as she walked down the hall towards the dungeons. She was on her way to see her least favourite professor, in her own time, the doors of the castle slowly winding around and past her.

"Damn." She could hardly remember how she got there, but there the great wooden door stood. The torches on either side cast eerie shadows, haunting the air behind her.

Suppose he's not there. Then she could turn around and tell Lavender that, and forget the whole idea. She could lie. Either way Lavender wouldn't believe her, and would tell half the school some rumor involving herself and the professor. And then she would get called down to where she stood now, and would have to explain to Snape why the hell everyone was talking about him. Maybe it was best to get it over with now.

God, how Hermione hated dares. Sure, Lavender was correct, a day of Snape would definitely get her mind off other pressing issues. But was it worth it?

She smiled at the thought of how much even talking to him civilly would irritate Harry and Ron. With that thought in mind, she lifted her fist to the door, letting the hollow sound echo down the stone corridor.

Too late to run away now.

What the hell was Malfoy up to now? Probably caught Potter or one of his sidekicks blowing up something, pretending it was related to Voldemort. Yes, and Dumbledore would believe him too.. 'Really headmaster, I defeated the dark lord for the ninth time straight and escaped alive!' Potter would say.

"Come in!" Snape barked at the door. It was not Malfoy who entered.

Hermione shyly stepped through the door, speaking the words "Good evening Professor Snape."

"Ms Granger."

Hermione shuddered. His voice was sharp, he could poke out and eye with a tone like that. How would it sound if instead it was soft and gentle, a whisper into her ear? Oh that did not help the quake in her bones.

"May I, Miss Granger, ask why you are here tonight? Or do I even need to ask? You here on some insolent mission, Perhaps I made some first year cry? As head girl you would greatly appreciate it if I dropped onto hands and knees to make friendly. It would make your life easier, would it not?"

He smirked at her look of astonishment. Although, to Hermione's defense he did not know her astonishment was at her own thoughts. The brain of the smartest witch in the castle was tripping and spinning. Hands and knees, oh fuck, his hair would fall enveloping his face as he could tease her here from the floor. Damn, damn, fuck, why again was she doing this? She could just stab herself with the green silver letter opener sitting on his desk and it would be over. If the blade was sharp enough to do any damage. Somehow, she doubted it.

Snape stood and watched her bite her lip. What the heck is wrong with her? She could very well be a girl with a crush standing there like that. Now that would be a surprise. The girl who had hung on Harry Potter's every syllable, having a crush on him, of all people. He toyed with the thought. In the back of his mind he could almost see himself bite that lip for her. No, never... But maybe, it's sometimes fun to pretend.

"I was hoping - wondering." Hermione quickly corrected herself, focusing hard to restrain from blushing as she saw Snape's eyes trace her body. She told herself that it was only him planning on the best way of 'accidentally' killing her. ". If I could get some extra credit in for this class.."

"Why?" Snape bellowed, His tone effectively catching her off guard. She got 102.4%, even though he had tried to mark her down for the slightest error, damn waste of his time trying to teach her anything.

"Ahh.." Hermione tried desperately to think up a reason.'Because Lavender's idea of helping a friends out turned out to be nothing less then torture' - no that didn't seem like an appropriate answer, somehow. She tried desperately not to focus on Snape's razor-sharp eyes, feeling as though her brain was being penetrated, taken over. Maybe she had just died from the empty void in her head, and was already in hell. People could die from not thinking right? Yes, if they lost their cool in front of the devil himself. Oh, and the devil was looking more and more tasty every second. 'Breathe, Hermione'

"I wanted to investigate my options for further studies of potions." Why was that so hard to come up with? Merlin, she was losing it.

"As in at a magical university, Ms Granger?" He answered with inquiry, perhaps more astonishment. She was surprising him tonight. First a school girl crush, and now a secret fondness for sweating in front of a hot sticky cauldron.

"Yes," Hermione replied.

Snape thought about it. It would be the first time a non-Slytherin student had ever considered studying potions outside of Hogwarts in many years. He realised that as a Death Eater, he would be expected to turn down her request, unless the headmaster had ordered him. Which he probably would, if Snape refused the request.

"Come to the potions classroom at 9:30 tomorrow, and you can assist me. You will need to commit the entire weekend to the project, and if your performance is satisfactory, then I will consider your request further."

Snape spoke these instructions harshly, but as Hermione looked at his face, she saw no signs of hostility directed towards her within his features. In fact, his eyes seemed calm and relaxed, as though he was not at all bothered by her intrusion. Hermione was startled by this observation, and in her confoundment, failed to reply.

Snape raised one eyebrow, as if demanding an answer.

"I won't disappoint you." Hermione said softly. And walked out.

"Damn," Snape said softly to himself. What the hell had happened there? Miss Granger had come to him, obviously unprepared, to ask for extra lessons... To pursue a career in potions? Hermione being unprepared for anything was unusual enough, But the way she had looked at him. No, he shook his head. No woman would ever be interested in him.

"What the hell did I just get myself into?"

Hermione questioned her sanity as she stood outside the door. Did she just agree to spend her entire weekend with Snape? Had she just been eyeing up the 'greasy old bat'? Was all that sexual energy really in the room, or was it all in her head? Was her head really that messed up? She ran her fingers through her hair, and started to walk. Assessing the situation, yes, good idea Hermione, let's assess:

So, she was going to work with Professor Snape for two days on an unknown potion. Damn! Why didn't she ask the name of the potion? She could have then researched it so she didn't have to seem like a fool in front of him. She considered going back, but she was climbing the stairs already. As she thought about it, she realized she didn't want to go now, tomorrow, or ever.

'But think about all the reasons you should go tomorrow,' she reflected. She would be able to tell Lavender that she went through with the dare, and she was going to thoroughly irritate her two ex-friends. And she would be gaining more experience with which to decide what to do with her life. That was if she made it through both days alive. This was Professor Snape we are talking about, not Professor McGonagall. He was the cruelest teacher in the school.

Cruel, but with something more enticing than McGonagall. Her skin tingled.

Filled with thoughts of confusion, she found herself in front of the entrance to Gryffindor tower.

"Password?" the fat lady sang out.

"Chocolate Frog." Hermione replied, as she entered the tower.

Hermione walked through the Gryffindor common room, the red and gold décor reminding her yet again of Ron Weasley. The coldness took her over again. Her mind flashed back, and she remembered a joke Ron told her, her mind echoing back against her will..

"Hey Hermione" Ron called out. "A cowboy goes out to seek his fortune on the frontier of the Old West. He finally settles on a ranching town near the very edge of civilization. After a month, he realizes that he has not seen one woman since he arrived in the settlement. So he walks into the bar, and asks where he would be able to find a woman..

"That's all you ever think about." Hermione told Ron sharply, kissing him on the cheek. The thought she ever did now repulsed her.

The now red Ron continued.

"The barman replied 'Why do we need women when we have sheep?'. So, in desperation, the cowboy went out later in the week to find himself a sheep, and did, you know.."

"Nasty." Hermione had replied, thoroughly repulsed by where this joke was going.

"Yeah, and he took her back to the bar, where he noticed everyone looking at him oddly. So he asked the barman what was wrong if everyone did it. And the barman told him that was the sheriff's sheep." Ron finished, laughing.

"Ron, that is one of the most disgusting things I have ever heard" Hermione said, with a look of distaste. She rather liked Sheep, not in a randy way. Had stopped eating them a while back. Actually maybe she should become a full blown vegetarian now, thinking it couldn't be that bad.

Hermione had automatically walked into the seventh year girl's dormitory. She flung herself onto her bed, wrapping a blanket around her as she rolled over, to protect herself against the cooler air.

"Don't tell me you went through with it?" Lavender called from the bed across from Hermione's, looking up from her magazine.

Hermione glanced over, seeing Lavender's bed for the first time since she entered the room. The red room was filled with four poster beds, the draping curtains made out of a shimmering gold fabric. Lavender's area was littered with nail polishes, lip glosses, and magazines, with posters of the hottest quidditch players of the season plastered on the walls. Hermione couldn't understand Lavender. They were eighteen years old, and the bouncy girl sitting opposite her still hadn't realized there was more to the male species than their appearance. Nor that her nail color was very affective in picking up a good one.

But, despite their differences Lavender was still a good friend, and the two had become close that term. Almost as close as she had been to Harry and Ron. At remembering the two, Hermione felt like screaming. She looked around her bed, searching for a distraction. She picked up an old stuffed sheep her parents had given her for Christmas a long time ago, and arranged it on her pillow. This was her part of the world. Her little corner with books, quills and parchment.

She felt so grownup compared with her friend. However, maybe she wasn't so grownup. Maybe she didn't always have to get at least 100% on her exams without feeling like a failure. Maybe Ron and Harry would face up to what they had done, and apologise. No, she was just lying to herself.

"Earth to Hermione! Did Snape take your brain for his next potion or something, so he could be as smart as you?" Lavender called from across the room.

"Oh." Hermione said, looking startled. "No."

Lavender rolled her eyes at Hermione's response. "DID YOU SEE SNAPE?" Lavender shouted across the room. Hermione nodded.

"9:30 am tomorrow," Hermione said, as if in a daze. She again thought of the professor. "Damn" she murmured quietly to herself.

"Well at least you will be too caught up to think about some two grade A bastards then" Lavender perked up from across the room.

"If only you know." Hermione whispered, as she lay back on her bed.