"We get our own rooms?" Hermione gasped as the door swung open.

"You want to be asleep and defenseless in a room full of Slytherins?" Snape replied, eyebrow soaring.

Had Professor Snape just made a joke?

"I suppose not," Hermione smiled weakly. "So... everyone gets their own?"

"Indeed. With a password-protected door. I suggest changing your password often, but most of us put up wards as well."

She searched Snape's face. This time, he appeared to be quite serious.

"Can you, uh..." Hermione fought a blush. "Can you come in for a minute? And shut the door?"

Professor Snape in her bedroom. She could just hear Ron ranting now...

There went the eyebrow again, but Snape stepped inside, closing the door with a wand-wave and, for good measure, put a Silencing charm on the door.

"What did you wish to discuss?" he asked, folding his arms.

"What... exactly... did Dumbledore tell you?"

"He told me that you were being offered sanctuary at Hogwarts for a short while, and that in the interests of your safety, you were to pretend to be a Durmstrang transfer student. He told me to teach you enough German to make that pretense believable, to keep you near if possible, and to take you to Hogsmeade tomorrow for supplies. That is all."

"We're going to Hogsmeade?"

The corners of Snape's mouth twitched. "You seem somewhat... lacking in luggage. Unless you were planning to streak the hallways...?"

Another joke?

"No, I... clothes would be... g-good," Hermione couldn't control her blush this time. Clothes would be good? How incredibly lame...

Snape studied her intently, taking her in, assessing. His eyes traced the same path James' had earlier, but the effect was different; Hermione found herself with an urge to improve her posture, not slap him.

"You're not a Slytherin... or anything remotely like one, are you, Krum?" he asked quietly.

"Of course I..."

She was going to say of course I'm not, given her Gryffindor robes, but a look down showed her that they, too, had changed. Had all this happened when Dumbledore tapped her ring?

"I... I suppose you think all this very strange," Hermione whispered.

"I don't enjoy questions about my private life, so I don't presume to query others," Snape murmured. "I merely wondered how long you were going to last before you were eaten alive..."

"Eaten alive by...?"

Snape ignored her, surveying the room. "However, Krum... I see no luggage here at all. Are there items you need to borrow?"

Hermione could only gape.

Snape rolled his eyes. "A toothbrush? Something to sleep in, perhaps?"

"I... yes."

"I'll be back in a moment," Snape said simply, walking out.

----

Hermione set the toothbrush down on the edge of sink, marveling again at the Slytherin perks. The bathroom was tiny, certainly... but it was her own, in private.

Of course... would I rather share a sink, or have housemates so untrustworthy I can't even shower around them?

She wasn't sure which was weirder... that she was undercover in the seventies as a German Slytherin, or that she was about to go to sleep in Snape's shirt.

Hermione unclasped her robe, her fingers fumbling over the unfamiliar Slytherin catch, tossing it on the bed next to the shirt Snape had brought her.

Snape was being so... bizarre. She was used to him surly, curt, condescending; it was in these moments that she had felt comfortable around him in their walk down to the dungeons.

Loaning her things, making little jokes... that distressed her, made her tongue freeze in her mouth, made her gape at him like a goldfish.

She pulled her blouse over her head, setting to work on her socks. Snape hadn't looked right, either. What had Sirius said?

Why, Snivelly... don't you look pretty today...!

Curious. She reached for the shirt Snape had loaned her, raising her arms to slide it over her head.

Hermione let out a little sigh at the softness of it, like the old, washed-to-bits t-shirts she'd worn as a child. It smelled nice, too... exotic, rather, spicy and mysterious...

Before you get any girlier, Harry's voice laughed in her head, you do realize that's probably Snape himself you're smelling? Surely he's already good at Potions...

And now Hermione did laugh at herself. That was twice today she'd gone a little goony on Snape; Ron would have fits.

He just seemed... so much less creepy, somehow. The Snape she knew would have leapt down her throat for staring at him like a cow in response to a direct question. And yeah, maybe rolling his eyes wasn't the nicest reaction, but it was definitely... different.

And Snape wasn't that bad looking at all. Sure, his nose was -- well, prominent was the nice word -- but it seemed to suit him, made him look... interesting, a bit dark, sort of... intriguingly intense, sort of...

Krum-ish, Hermione? But less annoyingly obsessed with Quidditch?

Again with the blushing.

Or is the word you're looking for 'Heathcliffian', perhaps?

Oh, now, that was hardly fair...

People do change in twenty years, Granger, she told herself. After all, she'd barely recognized Sirius. Azkaban had changed his looks almost completely. She knew Snape had spent time among the Death Eaters, plus more time as a spy... what would that do to someone?

The things he'd had to do to survive in the Dark Lord's service... how much had that changed him?

Hermione, her mind warned again. Cute in a weird way or not, this Severus Snape will be joining the Death Eaters of his own free will in about two years... so don't go cuddling him yet, okay?

Unless... unless she really was in some kind of alternate universe. Sirius had been so... so cruel, and James had been quite disgusting, honestly. Dumbledore didn't own a Time-Turner, Snape was being practically sweet... well, for Snape, anyway.

Hermione lay down on the bed, drawing the green curtains around her. If only she could get to the Muggle world, perhaps she'd be able to draw better conclusions; things at Hogwarts seemed to stay largely the same, year after year.

Well, except the staircases.

The thought of the Muggle world led her to imagining Professor Snape doing the Hustle in a pair of bell-bottoms, and she suppressed a giggle.

Granger, you don't have time for this. You've got a backstory to concoct -- no, two; one for Snape, and one for the rest of the school. You have to pretend to be German, pretend to be...

Her heart skipped a beat. No Muggle-borns were allowed into Durmstrang -- or Slytherin.

Fantastic, she thought sarcastically. She'd done a little reading on the Wizarding families -- Grimmauld Place had been full of books on the topic -- but not nearly enough to pretend to be one of them. And as inbred as they were, she'd probably claim to be a member of the Most Noble House Of Whatever, only to discover she was talking to her supposed second cousin.

Her head was hurting again. Maybe she could get Dumbledore to petrify her and stick her in his closet until they figured out a way to get her back...

Then Hermione's eyes flew wide.

If they sent her back to precisely the moment she left...

She was going to get to take her fifth-year twice. She could have a non-rubbish Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher. Maybe... maybe there was even someone good teaching Divination! She could take over any classes she had difficulty with, and add classes to replace the ones she was confident in! Twice as much time to study for her O.W.L.'s! Twice as much homework to prepare her!

There was her answer. She could throw herself into schoolwork, completely let out her inner Know-It-All. It had disgusted Harry and Ron properly when they first met her, it would surely revolt "The Marauders"...

Of course, there was Snape, who it seemed she'd be spending a lot of time around, but... honestly, Professor Snape was so mysterious she didn't have much she could accidentally tell him. As long as she kept her mouth shut about Death Eaters, there wasn't really any damage she could do there...

And it might be fun to get to know Professor Snape a little bit. She'd always had to respect him, grudgingly -- creepy or not, the man was a master at his craft. If he hadn't been so inapproachable, she'd have loved to find out more about what he knew...

She found herself drifting off, that warm spicy scent in her nostrils, thinking about the curve of his hands, the precision with which he spoke, the way his eyelashes lay heavy on his cheeks...

----

"I thought I told you to ward the door."

Hermione's eyes opened, reluctantly. "Huh?"

"I-thought-I-told-you-to-ward-the-door," Snape repeated, slower for the stupid.

"Oh... I guess I... kinda forgot..."

"Krum, if you are in as much danger as Dumbledore intimated you were, the fact that I am now standing two feet from your face is a poor sign indeed for your continued survival."

Hermione cracked the drapes. Snape stood on the other side, arms crossed, glowering.

"Check yourself for hexes."

Hermione pulled the drapes aside, stumbling out of bed, running her hands through her hair and suddenly remembering she had twice as much hair to do that to. "Do I look hexed?"

A funny look crossed Snape's face, his voice slightly unsteady. "N-no."

"Oh, good." She yawned, stretching her arms above her head. Snape's face took on an expression quite near panic.

"Come out when you're dressed," he spat, exiting quickly.

Weird. Hermione stumbled to the mirror, noting with a sigh that all that nicely-curled hair she'd had the night before was now a total mess. No wonder Snape had looked at her funny... and, of course, she didn't have a hairbrush...

She looked at her ring, a thought occurring to her. She slipped it off her finger, back on...

The face reflected in the mirror was surrounded by flawless ringlets.

"Oh, I so need one of these," Hermione muttered under her breath, grinning.

She crossed to the chair, reaching for her robe, noticing the red-and-gold tie underneath it.

Red and Gold? Uh-oh...

But the minute she touched the tie with her hand, its colors began to change... by the time she held it in her fist, it dangled silver-and-green.

She was officially impressed with the ring now... and apparently, she'd be hiding this set of clothes after her shopping excursion today.

You know... of all the girls in my year, I'm the only one who's never gone to Hogsmeade with a boy. I guess I'm changing that now...

She got a mental image of her and Snape snogging in Madame Puddifoot's, and had to choke down a hysterical giggle.

"Krum..." a voice called from outside her door. "I do believe we were meant to go at some point today..."

----

"Divination's utter rubbish, don't even bother," Snape proclaimed as they climbed the dungeon stairs. "You'll have to take 'History of Magic', I believe, but Binns removes all need to ever brew a Sleeping Draught..."

Snape's cold silence had broken the moment Hermione had asked his opinion on which classes she ought to sign up for.

Bad-mouthing the teachers at Hogwarts... I should have known he'd have some of the same interests...

"Transfiguration, though... McGonagall's quite good. She's head of Gryffindor..." Snape's mouth turned down at the word, "... so you'll have to work twice as hard for her approval, but she does know her subject well..."

"What about Potions?" Hermione asked innocently.

Snape didn't answer immediately, nodding politely as they passed a thin, mousy-haired woman, whose bulging eyes traced their every step suspiciously.

"Good Morning, Mrs. Norris," Snape murmured, then turned back to Hermione. "Oh, Potions... if you've a brain at all, Krum, you'll find it's taught far too slow. It's worse for us, we have it with Hufflepuff, they're constantly asking the stupidest questions... it's like they just want the teacher to know that they've been listening..."

Hermione flinched; she'd squashed the same unkind thought in her own classes with Hufflepuff.

"Krum," Snape whispered fiercely, "Stop that."

"Stop... what?"

"Stop looking wounded at every less-than-angelic comment that escapes my lips! If you're going to be a Slytherin, act like one!"

Hermione met Snape's eyes, swallowing hard. He was right...

"So... Hufflepuffs are the stupid ones?" she asked, adding just a sprinkle of Malfoy to her voice.

And Snape... grinned.

He should do that more often...

"Not just stupid, Krum," Snape's lips twitched. "Pansies. Mustn't forget the Pansies."

She was beginning to be able to tell when Snape was joking.

"Pansies. Right." They began to walk again, matching pace. "And Ravenclaws?"

"Insufferable know-it-alls, of course."

Right. Hermione's eyes twinkled. "And the dreaded Gryffindors?"

"Self-important braggarts who think they're above the rules."

Hermione laughed. "And all Mudbloods need to die, of course..."

It was Snape's turn to flinch, all the humor instantly draining from his face. Hermione flushed, their game suddenly over, their temporary bond broken, feeling like the person left bellowing something embarrassing when the rest of the crowd goes quiet for no reason.

"Uh... or not?"

"No-no," Snape said quietly. "That's a perfectly Slytherin attitude. I'm just not... fond of the word."

Since when?

"I-I'm sorry, I was just... j-just trying to play along..."

"We should pick up the pace," Snape said, lengthening his stride so it was hard to keep up.

"Sn... Severus... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to offend you..."

"You didn't offend me, Krum." Snape's back-off voice had returned. "I hear that word quite frequently, you merely startled me."

Then why have you suddenly shut me out?

Hermione continued to trot alongside him. "I'm just... I thought all Slytherins..."

"I'm not a particularly good Slytherin," Snape spat, his jaw clenched. "Although, I must say, I get better by the year."

"But the Sorting Hat..."

Snape whirled. "Wanted to put me in Gryffindor. Tell anyone that, Krum, and I'll hex you in your sleep."

Hermione goggled. "How'd you..."

"End up in Slytherin? The hat offered me the choice, said I'd do well in either."

"Why'd you choose...?"

"Black comes before Snape, Krum. I wanted as far away from him as possible."

"But why..."

Snape's eyes flashed. Anger at her? Himself for giving so much away? "I think I'm done talking now."

"But Severus..."

"I think I am quite done talking now, Krum."

They headed for the front door, Snape's determined footfalls and her own rushed steps to keep up the only sound.