Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Hermione is given to her muggle hobby clubbing, and Snape doesn't exactly approve it, especially if he catches her at one during a revel.
Chapter 1: The Beginning
Hermione Granger studied her appearance meticulously in the mirror in her muggle home. Once again her parents were out for the night, leaving her to play the responsible one and watch the house. Who watches houses these days anyhow?
Yeah right, Hermione thought as she smeared more makeup over her eyes. It was the summer and her seventh year was finally approaching. It was similar to a muggle's summer before their senior year of high school she supposed. It was no doubt that she would be given the title of Head Girl, there was no other in the school that matched her intelligence or character.
Character indeed, she smirked at her reflection. She could only wonder what the faculty and fellow students would think of her if they saw her now.
She stood clad in a black lace bra and matching panties as she fumbled through her closet for a "special" outfit. She grinned almost evilly when she found the articles: a black halter mid-top and tight black leather pants that flared out slightly at the bottoms. No one would ever think the impeccably naïve and innocent Hermione Granger would ever own such things. This was the advantage of being muggleborn. No one would ever have to know about anything compromising she did outside the wizarding world.
Once she had completed the task of dressing, she gave herself a quick overview. The dark eyeliner and shadow accented her eyes whilst some base makeup made her beautiful skin glow. She smiled gleefully at herself. One day she was going to forgive herself for this unbelievably narcissistic moment. This moment was well deserved nevertheless. Since her fourth year, she had watched all her female classmates "grow up" while she was still left behind with her overly curly hair and buckteeth. Hermione let a wild surge of laughter escape; this year had shined upon her. It came unexpectedly, but the bookworm had undergone a pubescent transformation starting her sixth year and Hermione reaped the benefits in the short summer.
The hair had tamed (largely due to a charm and muggle products), she finally had her parents fix her teeth and finally, but most importantly, her childlike body had outgrown its boyish stiffness. In order for this change, weight gain was in order, but not entirely unwelcome. She had gained a few pounds, but those few pounds added height and new curves to her body. She couldn't wait for her classmates to see the way she looked.
Hermione sighed. Her mind was becoming awful she believed. How can she only care about the way she looked? Wasn't her education the most important thing about going back to school, not wondering how the boys would drool or how the girls would gape? Again, her beauty was a gift in her sixth year and she wasn't going to let a simple gift poison her mind like it had the other girls early in life. Although, it was nice that perhaps once she would not be made fun of or teased for the way she looked. The title mudblood hadn't bothered her so much now, she figured it was just a name used because they couldn't find anything else personally wrong with her. She let all thoughts of school wane away and focused on tonight's plans.
One of her muggle friends, Evelyn convinced Hermione to go to a muggle club with her. At first it was only so she could be a lookout for her friend, so harm wouldn't come her way. She soon learned that Evelyn used Hermione's loyal nature to entrance her into the world of dancing and sweating until the morning hour. Needless to say it grew on her and since fifth year, it became a ritual for the two every summer. It was something Hermione could no longer help. Clubbing was something normal and exciting for muggles her age. It was something to take her mind off her rather unsocial life at Hogwarts and trepidation over You-Know-Who.
Finally satisfied with her appearance, she made sure her bed looked as if she were sleeping soundly in it and opened her room window. While letting the cool night breeze graze her skin, goose bumps rushed like a wave across her skin. Being chilled had nothing to do with it however, breaking the rules and doing something seemingly out of her own nature excited her and she was anxious to have fun tonight. The honking of a vehicle below signaled it was time for Hermione to get a move on. She muttered a charm to dim the lights in her room and she ventured into her so-called nightlife.
Severus Snape was sitting in his chambers swirling what was left of his brandy in a glass that rested in his palm. The room's dim lighting reflected off the glaze that shined over his eyes. The plush maroon lounge chair he rested in suddenly became extremely uncomfortable as he swiftly stood his ground. Although clearly intoxicated, he would never stumble in his gait or become any less articulate. He refused to allow himself the weakness, the ephemeral stupidity, thus why he developed a sense of superiority over normal drunks, why he still continued to drink when there was clearly no point.
Only hours ago had been a brutal meeting for the Death Eaters. Severus was on the receiving end of curses that night, which still left a painful stitch in his shoulder, despite the healing spells administered onto him. The Dark Lord hadn't been angry, just in a "playful" mood. Severus didn't like being toyed around with in pain for someone else's pleasure. His pride, his superiority didn't hold fast in any meeting. No one's did. It was hours of servitude and groveling for everyone that attended. Though Severus was in the Inner Circle, Voldemort made it very clear who was the sovereign. When his plans weren't being carried out the way he expected, it was a seemingly just cause for torturing his loyal soldiers.
"So Severus, why do you constantly endure this pain, the agony that is obvious from your voice as you scream into the night?" his eyes glared at him with maddening humor.
"I am loyal to you, master," Snape managed to choke out.
"Is that all?" he rose what looked like an eyebrow in his questioning. Severus internally searched for an answer quickly.
"No my lord, I will do all that pleases you, EVEN in.... my pain!" he shrieked out as another curse rampaged his senses, momentarily blinding him with a white flash. It didn't matter how many years one was exposed to this, there was never any level of tolerance built up to it.
"That is enough Severus, you've proven your loyalty time and time again for me. I will remember this, but for now...." He pointed his wand once again at Snape and he experienced another dousing of the Cruciatus Curse.
Severus snapped back into reality and took another drink of his brandy. The liquid burned down his throat as he languidly sauntered over to his bed. He looked at his forearm where the mark was imprinted and though through clothing, Severus could still see the image burned into his arm. The mark burned the most that first night the ministry realized the Dark Lord had returned. After being discovered, Voldemort became extremely enraged. Snape could remember now the first meeting back after the occasion.
"Insignificant peons! You've no intelligence whatsoever in those mockery of minds you own! What are slaves if they've no sense!!" the Dark Lord hissed at the black-cloaked individuals. "Does it mean nothing that I am discovered!?" He stalked slowly around them and pointed at one of them. "Crucio!"
The man sank to his knees violently and Snape didn't wince as his cries deafened him momentarily. "A select few will pay for their insolence and let it serve as an example to rest of you who fail me." Voldemort repeated this several times at random members and then smiled. This was a smile he hadn't seen for over eighteen years; the malevolence and malicious nature of it made him shudder involuntarily. He only hoped Voldemort hadn't noticed.
"This only means we will have to expedite our plans and my brilliance has already altered our course," he paused for a moment, "Malfoy!" A cloaked figured stepped up and walked slowly to the Dark Lord. He bent down and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes before rising.
"Yes my lord?"
"It's for certain that your son will be Head Boy?""Not yet, but there are no others in his league, it is practically a definite happening."
"Excellent then it will be soon that he takes the mark and influence others in his house," he smirked. Severus could see the wide grin on Malfoy's face as he answered.
"Of course my liege, it is done, and I'm sure Severus will make sure that my son will indeed become Head Boy." The Dark Lord eyed Snape.
"Is that so Severus?"
"Of course my lord, there is no other I would recommend for the position.""Very well, see that it is done!" Snape turned around but when doing so, he was struck with an Unforgivable. He doubled over in pain and cried out.
"Oh and Severus..."
"Yes, m y lord..?" he strained as his labored breathing attempted to hide the excruciating pain from his voice.
"I don't believe I have to tell you what happens to you if you fail." Snape didn't reply, but crawled in an undignified manner back to his previous spot.
"Lucius, your fate will be the fate of Severus' if all doesn't go accordingly. There will be no mishaps."
The alcohol impaired the rest of Snape's memory as he found he could not recall the other half of the meeting. He did know that he was expected at another meeting in a few days and at the thought he cringed. He used to be one of the only professors to stay at Hogwarts during holiday time, but ever since Voldemort's uprising, the teachers found that they preferred the safety of the school.
He scowled at this fact; he felt that his privacy had been greatly invaded. He was now at the beck and call of not only the Dark Lord and Dumbledore, but the rest of the staff as well. He was not their slave; his purpose was not to delve into their menial tasks and commit brutalities to only report his findings. Oh yes, Severus had grown wary of the existence he held; he was only a man. Only a man. A man who has never lived a normal life since he turned eighteen and now was a time he regretted burning that mark in his arm more than ever. Abruptly, Snape dropped the glass and collapsed on the floor.
Hermione crawled back into her room at approximately 2:30, relatively early for her excursions. Her fatigue had proven more overwhelming than her desire to dance and forget. Forget all that was ailing her. Ever since her fifth year, attacks on muggles and muggleborns had increased greatly and the brutalities were menacing. Yet, she could not keep herself from going out in the darkness when she should be home worrying. She couldn't live that life anymore, it was too frustrating. The Order hadn't any requests from her or any duties, not even small ones that Hermione could keep herself busy with. After the killings increased, Dumbledore saw it fit not to include "children".
Child indeed! The only one they let in was Harry, which was understandable, but it still angered her. The act of doing nothing always angered her. She had given up on SPEW since it had been going nowhere, despite her constant, wasted efforts. Yes, another thing she detested, waste. Harry continued to live at Pivet Drive and she rarely heard from him in the summer, but this year Ron had barely written to her either.
The thought was shrugged off and the ringing in her ears became prominent in the silence in her mind, no doubt from the loud music. That's why she was so different when she came home. The music seemed like a safe haven where she would be able to forget about all the dangers of the world. Evelyn had gotten on stage while Hermione could all but watch. Evelyn's confidence was something Hermione envied. The effects of the long night were getting the better of her and despite the tight clothes, makeup and sweat still on her body, she fell into a listless sleep.