A/N: Thank you for the reviews ^^ Finally a chapter that's somewhat longer than what I've been writing lately. Heh, I hope I didn't got too badly carried away here... Oh, and I'm sorry if the format sucks. Strange, I've never had any problems with the format I was using, but now it suddenly was all weird so I had to try like, 10 different versions :P Well, enough ranting and complaining, on to the story...


The Perfectionist


By Mykerinos


Chapter Sixteen: Lake by moonlight


Hermione stared at the ceiling. It was midnight, and she was laying in her bed. For the first time in weeks, they hadn't practiced for the contest.


Hermione had been staring at the ceiling for a while now, having lost track of the time. It could've been hours, but it could've been just 15 minutes as well. Either way, the other girls in the dormitory were all asleep.


But then again, they didn't have no flying contest tomorrow.


Tomorrow, they would just be sitting at the tribune, applauding for the good acts, eating some, relaxing, laughing about some curly-haired girl that would fall off of her broom... Then afterwards they'd talk about it some more, and forget about it.


For Hermione, tomorrow would be THE day. The day she had been doing it all for. There was no turning back, and she certainly could not fail. The entire act Snape had come up with was amazing; if they'd both do what they had to do, like they had practiced, then there was no way they could be defeated. But what if she failed? Imagine what would happen then...


People would be laughing at her, staring at her mockingly in the halls, and at her graduation there would be an embarrassing reference to the contest she'd messed up...


And of course, Snape would be furious. She felt her stomach lurch at the mere thought of what the look on his face might be if she failed. He would hate her, regret all the moments of practising, look away whenever she was near.


Now, a year ago, she wouldn't have cared about all that. Then she would've only worried that he might give her lower grades.


Sighing, Hermione stood up and quietly slipped out of bed. Like she had done uncountable times before, she made her way outside, avoiding the places where teachers were often patrolling and Peeves was lurking. She was in such hurry to get out, that she had forgotten to put on shoes or a cloak, and as she opened the backdoor to the fields of Hogwarts, a cold wind slapped her in the face.


Hesitatingly, she closed the door behind and looked around for a quiet place to sit. She remembered this spot hidden behind trees where she had sometimes done her homework in peace if it had been too hot to sit in the library. The last time she had been there though, was a while back, and she hoped she still knew where it was.


Taking the directions her mind gave, Hermione soon found the familiar gap in the brushwood and pushed the branches with their leaves away, and tried to make her way through the shrubs. One branch slipped out of her hand to soon, and made an ugly scratch in her face. Biting her lip, Hermione continued, and finally saw she was near the end. As she pushed aside the last few branches, she didn't see what she had expected.


"Sir!" she said surprised, startling. "I--I'm sorry, I didn't know..."


"Well, when we finally decide to not practice for once, you still know manage to run into me anyway..." Snape drawled.


Hermione flushed. "I'm sorry... do you mind if I, er, sit down?" she asked.


"Sure," Snape replied.


"'Sure, I mind,' or 'Sure, you can--'"


"Sure, I mind, but I can't do anything to stop you from sitting down, now can I?" he interrupted her annoyed.


"Er, right," Hermione said, wanting to hit herself for being so stupid. She sat down, and stared at the calm water and the moon that was reflected in it. Normally this could empty her mind from all thoughts, but now, it was of no use.


"Are you nervous?" Snape then asked.


Hermione twitched. For the contest, a little. For sitting here... well, there were no words that could possibly describe how she was feeling. "Kinda," she answered. "I'm just... afraid, afraid I'll do something wrong or that the tension will cause me to fall off of my broom, or that I'll forget the moves," She sighed. "Or that I simply won't be good enough..."


"If you're not good enough to do it, nobody is," he stated bluntly.


Hermione felt a heavy lump in her throat. "Thank you. Do you really think we can win?"


"Certainly," He snapped his head into her direction, and she could see the determined look on his face, his eyes shooting fire. It startled her.


"I'm sorry!" she blurted out, not knowing herself what she was apologising for. Snape raised his eyebrow.


"What were you doing here anyway?" Hermione quickly changed the subject.


"Contemplating my thoughts. You?"


"The same, actually," she smiled.


They continued to stare at the lake for several moments. Now the tension had been broken, Hermione started to feel the cold wind that directly went through her thin night robe. As much as she tried to fight it, eventually she was shaking terribly, and hugging her legs for warmth no longer helped either.


When her teeth started to clatter noisily, Snape looked up. Then, with one swift movement he took his cloak and hold it out for her. "Here," he offered, a blank look on his face.


Hermione looked up at him, and in her eyes was something more than just gratefulness as she reached out and thankfully wrapped the still warm cloak around her body. As she inhaled, she could smell the now somewhat familiar, but ever delighting smell of herbs that she had smelled before when they had been practicing flying.


For a moment she felt him staring at her, but his face was unreadable as ever, so this time it was her turn to ask, "What?"


He didn't respond, just turned his head back to the water. And there they sat a while, staring at the lake, until Snape finally stood up and stretched his back.


"I'll be heading back to the castle now. I'll see you tomorrow. And don't be late,"


Hermione nodded, and watched him leave through the gap in the brushwood. When he was gone Hermione let out a heavy sigh and let herself fall back on the grass, suddenly becoming aware of the cloak she was still holding.


TBC