Chapter nineteen
Ailie sat and sipped tea while looking around her. Having never seen much of houses and such before she came to Hogwarts, this tiny little London flat was a mystery to her. The rooms at Hogwarts were spacious and elegant, as they should be. Here, the ceilings were absurdly low, the rooms cramped and awkward, and someone had seen fit to paint the entire flat in the same drab shade of lime green. Why would anyone want to live in such a place?
Hermione's reaction to the flat had been completely different from hers. The other girl had exclaimed over the wonderful way the two Weasleys had furnished the place, and the chosen location of the flat. Ailie, knowing she was operating in an alien world, had followed her friend's lead, but it still puzzled her.
She took another long draught of tea and almost sighed with pleasure. Ever since they had left, she had felt Snape trying to enter her mind, and refusing him entry always gave her a headache. She hadn't had time to ask Hermione what had prompted the early- or should she say late- departure for London, but, judging by the annoyance flowing from Snape's side of the bond, it surely had to have something to do with him.
Ailie smiled at something Ginny was saying. She already liked the young girl with dark red hair. From the photos Hermione had shown her, Ailie had been expecting a shy young girl with a great mop of hair, but sitting in front of her was someone in charge of herself, with sleek, short- cropped hair and a sophisticated air about her. Obviously, when Hermione had been burying herself in work and study, Virginia Weasley had been growing up.
Her brother, Ron, was also an easy person to like. The close friendship between Hermione and the young man was obvious. The two had hugged and cavorted like puppies on seeing each other when they first arrived, Ailie and Ginny standing by with amused looks on their faces. Even now, their heads were bent together in close conversation as they caught up.
At that moment, Hermione looked up and smiled at her.
'Sorry, Ailie, I was just filling Ron in on everything that's been happening at Hogwarts.' Ailie shook her head.
'Everything?' Ailie teased, but controlled her smile at Hermione's glare. Luckily, the moment seemed to pass without Ron's notice. Hermione stood to help Ginny with the teacups, and Ailie turned her attention to Ron. In the rush of arriving there had been little time to get to know each other, but Ailie felt that she knew him already from the stories Hermione had shared, and the tales Harry had told over Christmas. Neither had told her that he was this cute, but that could be forgiven. It was a nice surprise to find that, after months of older professors and teenagers, she would be spending some time in the presence of a handsome young man. She turned on a little charm, and was pleased to see Ron react. It was nice to stretch those flirting muscles again.
'It's weird to think of you all back at Hogwarts,' Ron said, shifting in his chair. 'And I think I'll never get used to Hermione teaching,' he added with a grin.
Ailie smiled back at him. 'It's been a very short time since you were all at school together. I suppose it must seem like she's in the ranks of the enemy.'
'I just can't picture Hermione giving out detentions.' His brow furrowed for a second. 'Although I know she probably wanted to give us some during our final year when we were too noisy in the common room.' Hermione came back in the room at that point, and glared briefly at Ron, who gave her a cheeky smile. 'Well, you did, 'Mione. You were terrible when it came to studying for our NEWTs.'
'If I hadn't been so terrible, you might not have passed your NEWTs, Ronald Weasley, and don't you forget it,' Hermione said, and sat on the edge of his chair. Ron smiled up at her. The obvious love between the two was warming to Ailie, who hadn't had much chance since Christmas to see such a relaxed Hermione. The thought gave her an evil idea.
Ginny rose to help them prepare for bed. The hour was quite late, as it had been ten o'clock or so before they had even received the owl announcing the Weasley's acceptance. The three girls would squeeze themselves into Ginny's room; Ron had flirtingly offered for Ailie to share his room, but had been glared down by his friend and sister.
Soon enough, beds were sorted out and everyone was ready to retire for the evening. Ginny sleepily said goodnight and crawled into her room; she would have to get up quite early the next day for work and was not used to such late nights. As she watched Ron and Hermione say goodnight, Ailie relaxed her mind a little. There it was; a little slivery feeling, like having a fish swim through your hands. Smiling, she finished getting ready for bed. *That would teach him to give me an evening-long headache,* she thought.
The room was dark as Hermione climbed into the makeshift bed beside her. Ailie searched the dimness for her friend's expression.
'He's sorry, you know,' she whispered. She smiled at the confusion clearly marked in the shadows of Hermione's face. 'I don't know about what, but he definitely is.'
Hermione 'harrumph'ed into the darkness. 'The day Severus Snape is sorry about anything is the day Minerva paints herself blue and rides naked through the great hall at dinnertime.'
Ailie lay back and smiled. It occurred to her that Hermione hadn't needed to ask who.
***
The next morning found the girls enjoying a pleasant breakfast alone. Ginny, working toward her degree as a mediwitch, had taken some part-time work at a potions analysis lab to help with the rent, and Ron was happily ensconced in his job as an assistant in a shop for magical creatures in Diagon Alley. The girls had had a pleasant sleep-in and were busy working out their plans for the day.
'You can't plan to spend the entire day in the library of the British Museum,' Ailie said despairingly. Apparently Hermione was taking all-too seriously the idea that the trip was to research a cure for Ailie.
'I have a lot of work to do, Ailie. And I need to get back to Hogwarts by at least Friday.'
'But Minerva said you were fine to stay until next Monday!' Ailie said, exasperated. Part of the plan had been to give Hermione a break from all things stressful, but the woman herself seemed to have different ideas.
Hermione shook her head, finishing off the last piece of her fruit salad and rising to place the bowl in the sink. 'I know that's what Minerva said, but I have my potions group to tutor on Thursday. If I haven't found something by then, I can always come back, I promise.' She gave Ailie a small smile, and set to washing the dishes.
Ailie decided to try one last track. 'But I have no-one to show me around London,' she said in a small voice. 'I was looking forward to it.'
'Oh, Ailie,' said Hermione. 'I'm so sorry. I didn't think of it, honestly. But don't worry, we can do some exploring some other time. If I work hard enough today, we might have an hour or two free before we go back.'
Ailie rolled her eyes, knowing she had failed. Well, studying, from all she knew of Hermione, was a kind of relaxation for the girl. Besides, the last excuse she had tried was really of no consequence. Ailie had been expected to look after herself in most ways since she was fourteen, and was looking forward to exploring a new city on her own.
Her friend left a few instructions as to muggle transport and directions, and some muggle and wizard money. Ailie, with a shrug, pocketed both directions and money and retired to the bedroom to prepare.
The next few days formed into a regular routine. Hermione would rise early, and depart with Ginny and Ron as they left for work. Ailie would rise, prepare a leisurely breakfast, and wander about town entertaining herself. Both Weasley siblings would return to the flat at around six in the evening, when Ailie felt comfortable to return herself, and then the three would wait out the time until Hermione would force herself away from the vast library of the museum, which was usually a couple of hours later. It developed that the three non-bookworms would trek down to one of the local pubs for the duration, Ron having professed an ambition to introduce Ailie to as many London pubs as possible during her stay. Hermione would follow later, a mock frown on her face at finding her friends in a den of iniquity.
Their last night before being due to leave, in accordance with Hermione's self-imposed schedule, the Weasleys had put their foot down and commanded an entire evening with themselves as hosts. As Hermione had found a very promising track on her second day of research and would have enough information soon to go on with, it seemed probable that the plan would go forward without a hitch.
Ailie dressed with some anticipation. Ginny had mentioned something about a 'night-club', which appeared to be a venue for dancing. Ailie missed dancing; her life in the coven had been filled with joy and ritual. Ailie was glad she'd been able to explore London; she had at least some idea of what would look strange in her choice of clothing, and Ginny had promised to make sure she didn't have anything askew. There were more differences between her own culture and those at Hogwarts and London than Ailie ever would have expected. She looked at the clock on the wall, worrying that Hermione wouldn't be home in time for their proposed night to begin. She had said that she would try, but knowing Hermione...
Ron handed her a cool drink as she entered the living room, and smiled at the worried look on her face.
'Don't worry,' he said. 'Hermione will be here. The number of times Harry and I physically carried her out of the library when she wasn't having enough fun made her scared of being late for parties.' He grinned. 'Did I tell you how gorgeous you look yet?'
Ailie chuckled. 'No. The same to you.' She appraised Ron thoughtfully. 'Hermione never said you dress so well.' She was satisfied to see Ron blush.
Just then there were sounds of someone arriving at the door, and Hermione stumbled in under the weight of scrolls of paper, books and parchment. From the smile on her face, Ailie could see that the day's research had been successful.
'My theory was right!' she said, dumping her burdens on a nearby chair. 'I knew that the process of integration between the gestational period of tanglevines and sneering mugglewort would-'
Ron held up a hand, silencing her. 'Herm, even if we could understand what you're talking about, now's not the time. We're supposed to be relaxing, remember?'
Hermione gave him a rueful smile. 'I'm sorry. It's just so interesting. I think I've got enough research now to go on with, but there's so much more-' She caught Ron's look and stopped. 'Okay.'
Ginny's head popped out of her bedroom, the frown on her face clearing as she saw Hermione.
'There you are. Get your butt in here, 'Mione. I need your help deciding what to wear.' With a puzzled smile, Hermione headed for the bedroom. Ailie sighed happily and sat back in her chair. This was looking to be a good evening.
In the bedroom, Hermione looked around as Ginny threw even more clothes out of the closet. Tops and skirts were strewn everywhere.
'You were never this messy at school,' she said wonderingly. Ginny gave her a smile from the wardrobe, where she was sorting through a swathe of dresses.
'I was never this messy at home either. Mum would've had a fit. It's great having my own space.' She held up a short black dress for consideration. 'What do you think of this one?'
'Won't you be cold?' Hermione asked, idly looking through the clothes on the bed. Ginny scrunched up her nose.
'Not really, but I guess you're right. Maybe this one,' she decided, picking out a green outfit. Hermione politely turned away as Ginny changed.
'What are you going to wear?' Ginny asked from behind her. 'We don't want to clash.'
'I don't know. I didn't really bring anything, but I can always transfigure something,' Hermione said, turning around. 'Wow, Ginny, you look great!' Her friend was now encased in a dark green dress that flowed down to mid-calf, a watching shirt over the top. It went wonderfully with her dark red hair. Hermione tilted her head to the side. 'I didn't say before, but I'm jealous of your hair. I'm glad you didn't dye it any other colour. Red suits you.'
Ginny laughed. 'No, I couldn't get rid of the red, but at least I could make it darker than the Weasley Orange. Now, missy, your turn. What are you going to transfigure?'
Hermione looked down at her case, her brow furrowed in thought. Normally, she would have simply chosen a blouse and skirt, but was feeling daring after spending days with only books for company. Besides, both Ailie and Ginny were dressed attractively, and for once Hermione felt like competing. Deftly, she picked up a t-shirt she had packed, and waved her wand at it. With a little concentration, it became a short-sleeved dress, of a plain style, but made of black satin with small navy blue flowers embroidered on it. Ginny's eyes widened when she saw it.
'I really wish I was as good at transfiguration as you,' she said. 'I'd never have to buy clothes again.' Hermione gave a shrug, and began to change as Ginny left for the bathroom.
As the other girl left the room, Hermione paused. She felt like feeling special tonight. She contemplated her mostly-naked figure in the mirror. She usually favoured nice, but practical underwear, but tonight... with a wave of her wand, Hermione quickly transformed her bra and panties into a matching set of blue satin. She smiled as the bra changed shape slightly, supporting her more fully and adding a little cleavage. That was more like it. Quickly, she put on her newly-transfigured dress and searched around for some shoes she could also transform.
By the time Ginny came back in the room, Hermione was almost ready. She stood tall in her high-heels, made to match her dress. She had put her hair up in one of the styles Ailie had shown her, a loose bun with some of the curls tumbling down. The first few times she had tried it, Hermione had felt a little self-conscious, worrying that her hair looked simply messy, but the admiring glances she had attracted had made her relax somewhat. Ginny looked her up and down with approval.
'You look absolutely great, Hermione,' she said. She nodded toward the door. 'The bathroom's free, if you want it.'
'Thanks,' Hermione said as she headed to the door. 'Oh, Gin, I didn't bring any makeup- do you mind...?' At the other's nod, Hermione happily made her way to the bathroom.
When she stepped into the living room a few minutes later, Hermione was looking well above average and was aware of it. For once, she thought as she caught Ron's wide grin, she could feel like a normal girl.
The foursome headed off for an Italian restaurant nearby, a tiny place that Ginny assured did wonderful pizza. After a quick and enjoyable meal, they moved on to a nearby nightclub.
Hermione accepted the drink Ron handed her and looked around the place. On Ginny's advice, they had gone to a muggle nightclub- wizards, according to the young girl, had a lot over muggles, but their taste in music tended to be pretty bad. Remembering dances at Hogwarts, which were practically Hermione's only experience with such occasions, Hermione was inclined to trust Ginny's judgement, though it was strange to think of a Weasley having more experience with the muggle world than a muggle-born.
Beside her, Ginny and Ailie were in deep conversation. As Ron returned to the bar for his own drink, Hermione turned to them enquiringly.
'I was just telling Ailie the strategy for a place like this,' Ginny said smilingly. 'The trick is, not to stick to Ron too closely. For me, it's obvious that he's my brother, and most guys seem to get scared off by that. But if a guys saw him hovering around you two, he'd assume that Ron was boyfriend for one of you.'
'And that's such a bad thing?' asked Ailie teasingly. Hermione raised a mental eyebrow.
'Why would we need to worry about that?' Hermione asked, taking a sip of her drink.
Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Because if Ron's around, there's absolutely no chance of pashing a guy!' She caught Hermione's incredulous look. 'That's part of the fun, 'Mione.'
Hermione gave her a dark look. 'Gin, you sound like Lavender and Parvarti.'
Ginny shrugged. 'Not really. I'm not saying you have to get engaged to the guy. Just kiss him.' Hermione shook her head, but caught Ailie's eye.
'Kissing is an important part of bonding, Hermione,' the other girl said, a mischievous look in her eye. 'Anyway, not everyone can be satisfied with wonderful dreams as you do.'
Ginny raised her eyebrow at them. 'What sort of wonderful dreams?'
'It was not 'wonderful', Ailie, and you know it.' She glared at both of her friends. The moment was saved by Ron's return.
They managed to work their way to a table in the corner, from whence both Ginny and Ailie were asked to dance. It was impossible to talk properly in the club, and soon Ron himself got up to dance. Hermione stared into her drink, feeling morose. The thought of dancing in front of all these strangers seemed daunting. She gave herself a mental shake. This was not what she was out for. No wonder she dreamt about Snape; she was beginning to act like him.
With resolve, Hermione sacrificed the safety of the table. It took her a while to locate her friends in the crowd. Both Ginny and Ailie were happily dancing with a group of boys they seemed to have found, and Ron looked distinctly like he didn't want to be disturbed. Hermione smiled wryly. She may have decided to join the living, but they didn't want to join her.
She shrugged, and moved toward the bar. There was more to do than dance; she could do that later. Right now, she was inclined to spend some hard-earned money on one of the nasty-looking cocktails she had seen some people carrying.
While she waited for her drink- the bartender, a nice-looking young boy, had recommended something called a Midori Shaker, whatever that was- Hermione noticed the man standing at her elbow. Looking up, she noted that he looked as lost in the club as she felt. He glanced at her, and she gave him a shy smile.
After a few minutes, he turned to her again.
'Why aren't you dancing?' he asked loudly in her ear. Hermione shrugged, then indicated the bar.
'I'm getting warmed up for it,' she said, then noted his questioning look, and repeated her sentence in his ear. He smiled and nodded.
'Me too,' he said, pointing at his own drink. At that moment, the smiling bartender handed Hermione a canister with some sort of green liquid in it. She looked at it in confusion. The man beside her laughed.
'It's a shaker. You're supposed to drink it straight out of the cocktail shaker.' Hermione felt her heart sink a little at the revelation; it would be just her luck to spill the drink all over herself. Besides, elbows in this club seemed to make anything but a small glass dangerous to drink out of. She was still pondering her options when the man reached over the bar and picked out a glass. Hermione's eyes widened slightly at the behaviour, but took the glass with a grateful smile.
'It's okay,' the man said, noticing her look. 'I work here sometimes.' Hermione smiled and nodded. Timidly, she poured some of her drink out and tasted it. It wasn't bad, she reflected; a watermelon flavour. She smiled her thanks at the man.
'My name's Milton,' he said, bending again to her ear.
'Mine's Hermione,' she replied. His eyes widened in recognition.
'Isn't that a character in Shakespeare's A Winter's-'
'A Winter's Tale, yes,' Hermione replied with a rueful grin. 'Don't ask.' With two dentists as parents, Hermione had never been able to figure out where the sudden passion for romanticism had come from.
Milton looked around at the crowded bar, his added height giving him an advantage over Hermione.
'Hey, would you like to sit down? It's kind of noisy here,' he asked. A momentary flutter of panic exploded in Hermione's chest. It sounded as though he was thinking of trying to pick her up. With a silent sigh, Hermione berated herself; wasn't she the one who, at Christmas, had been bemoaning her lack of a social life?
With a smile, Hermione nodded and followed him through the crowd to a table in back of the bar, a quiet spot where speaking was, at least, possible.
Time passed smoothly as they talked. Hermione was surprised to find that Milton was studying the Romance languages at university; they spent an hour talking about the different translations of Beowulf, which Hermione had briefly studied during a literature course in college. They were well into their third drinks by the time Ginny, Ailie and Ron found them.
'I didn't know there was this little nook, here,' said Ginny, looking around appreciatively. Only slightly embarrassed at seemingly being caught out doing the thing she had earlier ridiculed them for, Hermione introduced Milton and motioned for her friends to take a seat. They firmly refused.
'We've decided it's time you came to dance,' said Ron, obviously well on the way to inebriation. He reached out a hand and began to pull her up.
Hermione glanced at Milton. She had really begun to like him in the space of their talk, and didn't want to lose his company. Daringly she reached out for his hand, gladdened by the look of pleasure that the move brought in his eyes.
'Dance?' she asked, and pulled him to his feet. His hand warmed hers as the group made their way to the dance floor.
Dropping it as they all formed a circle to dance, Hermione reflected on how nice it was to have such casual physical contact with a man. There hadn't been the nerve-wracking pleasurable tension she remembered the first time Victor had taken her hand, though that occasion had occurred in the library after two hours of talking, each waiting shyly for the other to make the first move. No, it wasn't that lovely anticipation of a crush, but it was nice all the same.
When a slow song came on and Milton pulled her into his arms, Hermione went with ease, enjoying the feel of dancing so close with a man. She didn't notice Ailie's careful eyes on her.
***
Snape twisted in the bed, feeling the blessed cool of untouched linen as his legs slammed to opposite sides of the bed. It took him a few moments to realise that he was awake, sweating coldly into the night. The remnants of dream clung to him, tying him down to the uncontrolled emotion and torturous pain of his nightmare.
Sitting up, Snape frowned into the night. He shouldn't have been dreaming at all, having finally given in and taken a dreamless sleep potion before he retired for the evening. At the staff meeting, Albus had dropped the not-so-subtle hint that if he didn't take it and get a decent nights' sleep, the entire faculty would tie him down and cast such an array of spells on him that he would sleep until next April. April was only a few weeks away, but it was the headmaster's way of indicating that the staff did not appreciate Snape's bad temper when he was tired.
With a grunt, Snape swung his feet over the edge of the bed and on to the floor, fighting with the tangled sheets as he did so. The cold of the floor was a blessing to his shocked system. He sat for a few moments, letting the cold seep into him. It was a relief after the dream.
Though he was a man who needed little sleep, the last few nights had been worse than usual. Ever since the weekend, closing his eyes brought no rest. Common nightmares, he was used to. It was a part of him he couldn't escape, but he had learnt how to deal with them on the occasions he was tormented with them. In the last few days, however, his battered subconscious, repressed and ignored, had seemingly decided to get revenge for years of neglect. The dreams he had been having had thrown up memories he had forgotten he had. Not all of them were bad; no, some of them merely brought on the water-torture of bittersweet pain and happy times, long lost. Wakefulness was by far the better option.
Snape sighed. If the bad had to be balanced with the good in life, he was willing to go for the mind-numbingly boring any day. Happiness, fleeting, fragile- it just wasn't his thing.
With a half-smile at the thought, Snape rose and walked over to the chair where he had placed his robes just a few hours ago. So many people were right about him, just not in the way they imagined.
He supposed this was his punishment for attacking Granger. He sighed, walking from his rooms and down the corridor. He still didn't know what had come over him. Control was usually his greatest ally. Yes, he could admit to himself that he seemed to have some absurd attraction to the girl, and she had provoked him, but that was no excuse. The little Gryffindor had about as much guile as a newborn kitten. Having the advantage over her in just about every way, his behaviour was inexcusable.
He would simply have to apologise. Ugh.
The pang of an oncoming headache led Snape in the direction of the kitchens. He could allow himself the luxury of a soothing hot drink after the evening he'd had. Waving the simpering house-elves away, he placed a kettle by the ever-roaring fire and settled down to wait. The ritual of making tea the long way had always soothed him.
It had to be Ailie, of course. He had brewed the dreamless sleep potion himself, so there was no doubt that it worked. No, for some reason, Ailie had seen fit to utilise their link, sending thoughts his way as he slumbered. No doubt she had planned on his being asleep and unresistant to the barrage of images and feelings she had dumped on his psyche. No doubt she was still angry at him for upsetting Hermione.
Snape flinched as another jolt of pain shot through his forehead. Damn the girl. If she would only cease trying to get into his head, his headache would go away. Of course, he could always just let her in, but that wasn't the point. She was the one assaulting him.
The kettle at the fire boiled, and Snape picked up a cloth nearby to move the boiling pot away from the flames. Carefully he measured out some tea-leaves directly into a mug, having a dislike for teapots- they always reminded him of his mother- and poured the boiling water in. Soon enough, he was able to sip at the beverage, but the pangs in his head continued. Ailie was nothing if not persistent. With a sigh, Snape gave in. If she wanted to show him something badly enough, so be it.
His decision was, of course, almost instantly regretted.
***
Ailie smiled as she felt her thought slither into Snape's mind. Not so far away, Hermione and her new friend were getting extremely... friendly in the corner. Not too passionate, but then, Hermione was a beginner. Ailie was certain that the mere sight of Hermione with her arms around a handsome man would be enough to prevent Snape's sleep for weeks. She gave a wicked chuckle, making Ron, dancing beside her, ask what the joke was.
She smiled up at him. 'Nothing, don't worry about it. I'm just glad to see Hermione's having fun.' Ron looked over at the couple in the corner, and smiled. Ailie liked the glint that had come into his eyes.
As Ron reached out and pulled her closer for a slow dance, Ailie tried to shut the flow of thoughts with Snape off. The potions master, of course, was having none of it, trying to wriggle more ideas about Hermione's occupation out of Ailie's mind. With a mental shrug, Ailie gave in. She was too drunk to fight him off, and too preoccupied. She moved in closer to Ron, brushing her body slightly to his and making him smile. She smiled too; Snape's mental snort of disgust was clearly audible to her. Having a Weasley brought in such close contact with his thoughts was not his idea of fun, she knew. She felt him retreat.
Ailie turned her attention to Ron, feeling all was right with the world.
The next morning, after a quick round of goodbyes and an appreciative smile at Ron, Ailie helped her hungover friend through the floo system with all the relish that could be had in anticipating the row that would greet them as soon as they saw Snape.
A/N: I hope you all liked it. I've never chatted up anyone or had someone who wasn't abysmally sleazy try to chat me up in a nightclub, so I don't know how the conversation works. If the conversation in the bar seems odd, then it's my inexperience, sorry.
A few people seemed to think that Hermione was moving away permanently; I hope this chapter set your minds at ease (it would be overreacting a little if she had, wouldn't it? I mean, he did bite her ear, but it's not the end of the world.).
I had an evil little chuckle to myself as I began writing Snape's side of things; I couldn't resist. Mwahahaha....
'While you are away My heart comes undone Slowly unravels In a ball of yarn The devil collects it With a grin Our love In a ball of yarn He'll never return it So when you come back we'll have to make new love.' -Bjork, 'Unravel' (Homogenic)
Ailie sat and sipped tea while looking around her. Having never seen much of houses and such before she came to Hogwarts, this tiny little London flat was a mystery to her. The rooms at Hogwarts were spacious and elegant, as they should be. Here, the ceilings were absurdly low, the rooms cramped and awkward, and someone had seen fit to paint the entire flat in the same drab shade of lime green. Why would anyone want to live in such a place?
Hermione's reaction to the flat had been completely different from hers. The other girl had exclaimed over the wonderful way the two Weasleys had furnished the place, and the chosen location of the flat. Ailie, knowing she was operating in an alien world, had followed her friend's lead, but it still puzzled her.
She took another long draught of tea and almost sighed with pleasure. Ever since they had left, she had felt Snape trying to enter her mind, and refusing him entry always gave her a headache. She hadn't had time to ask Hermione what had prompted the early- or should she say late- departure for London, but, judging by the annoyance flowing from Snape's side of the bond, it surely had to have something to do with him.
Ailie smiled at something Ginny was saying. She already liked the young girl with dark red hair. From the photos Hermione had shown her, Ailie had been expecting a shy young girl with a great mop of hair, but sitting in front of her was someone in charge of herself, with sleek, short- cropped hair and a sophisticated air about her. Obviously, when Hermione had been burying herself in work and study, Virginia Weasley had been growing up.
Her brother, Ron, was also an easy person to like. The close friendship between Hermione and the young man was obvious. The two had hugged and cavorted like puppies on seeing each other when they first arrived, Ailie and Ginny standing by with amused looks on their faces. Even now, their heads were bent together in close conversation as they caught up.
At that moment, Hermione looked up and smiled at her.
'Sorry, Ailie, I was just filling Ron in on everything that's been happening at Hogwarts.' Ailie shook her head.
'Everything?' Ailie teased, but controlled her smile at Hermione's glare. Luckily, the moment seemed to pass without Ron's notice. Hermione stood to help Ginny with the teacups, and Ailie turned her attention to Ron. In the rush of arriving there had been little time to get to know each other, but Ailie felt that she knew him already from the stories Hermione had shared, and the tales Harry had told over Christmas. Neither had told her that he was this cute, but that could be forgiven. It was a nice surprise to find that, after months of older professors and teenagers, she would be spending some time in the presence of a handsome young man. She turned on a little charm, and was pleased to see Ron react. It was nice to stretch those flirting muscles again.
'It's weird to think of you all back at Hogwarts,' Ron said, shifting in his chair. 'And I think I'll never get used to Hermione teaching,' he added with a grin.
Ailie smiled back at him. 'It's been a very short time since you were all at school together. I suppose it must seem like she's in the ranks of the enemy.'
'I just can't picture Hermione giving out detentions.' His brow furrowed for a second. 'Although I know she probably wanted to give us some during our final year when we were too noisy in the common room.' Hermione came back in the room at that point, and glared briefly at Ron, who gave her a cheeky smile. 'Well, you did, 'Mione. You were terrible when it came to studying for our NEWTs.'
'If I hadn't been so terrible, you might not have passed your NEWTs, Ronald Weasley, and don't you forget it,' Hermione said, and sat on the edge of his chair. Ron smiled up at her. The obvious love between the two was warming to Ailie, who hadn't had much chance since Christmas to see such a relaxed Hermione. The thought gave her an evil idea.
Ginny rose to help them prepare for bed. The hour was quite late, as it had been ten o'clock or so before they had even received the owl announcing the Weasley's acceptance. The three girls would squeeze themselves into Ginny's room; Ron had flirtingly offered for Ailie to share his room, but had been glared down by his friend and sister.
Soon enough, beds were sorted out and everyone was ready to retire for the evening. Ginny sleepily said goodnight and crawled into her room; she would have to get up quite early the next day for work and was not used to such late nights. As she watched Ron and Hermione say goodnight, Ailie relaxed her mind a little. There it was; a little slivery feeling, like having a fish swim through your hands. Smiling, she finished getting ready for bed. *That would teach him to give me an evening-long headache,* she thought.
The room was dark as Hermione climbed into the makeshift bed beside her. Ailie searched the dimness for her friend's expression.
'He's sorry, you know,' she whispered. She smiled at the confusion clearly marked in the shadows of Hermione's face. 'I don't know about what, but he definitely is.'
Hermione 'harrumph'ed into the darkness. 'The day Severus Snape is sorry about anything is the day Minerva paints herself blue and rides naked through the great hall at dinnertime.'
Ailie lay back and smiled. It occurred to her that Hermione hadn't needed to ask who.
***
The next morning found the girls enjoying a pleasant breakfast alone. Ginny, working toward her degree as a mediwitch, had taken some part-time work at a potions analysis lab to help with the rent, and Ron was happily ensconced in his job as an assistant in a shop for magical creatures in Diagon Alley. The girls had had a pleasant sleep-in and were busy working out their plans for the day.
'You can't plan to spend the entire day in the library of the British Museum,' Ailie said despairingly. Apparently Hermione was taking all-too seriously the idea that the trip was to research a cure for Ailie.
'I have a lot of work to do, Ailie. And I need to get back to Hogwarts by at least Friday.'
'But Minerva said you were fine to stay until next Monday!' Ailie said, exasperated. Part of the plan had been to give Hermione a break from all things stressful, but the woman herself seemed to have different ideas.
Hermione shook her head, finishing off the last piece of her fruit salad and rising to place the bowl in the sink. 'I know that's what Minerva said, but I have my potions group to tutor on Thursday. If I haven't found something by then, I can always come back, I promise.' She gave Ailie a small smile, and set to washing the dishes.
Ailie decided to try one last track. 'But I have no-one to show me around London,' she said in a small voice. 'I was looking forward to it.'
'Oh, Ailie,' said Hermione. 'I'm so sorry. I didn't think of it, honestly. But don't worry, we can do some exploring some other time. If I work hard enough today, we might have an hour or two free before we go back.'
Ailie rolled her eyes, knowing she had failed. Well, studying, from all she knew of Hermione, was a kind of relaxation for the girl. Besides, the last excuse she had tried was really of no consequence. Ailie had been expected to look after herself in most ways since she was fourteen, and was looking forward to exploring a new city on her own.
Her friend left a few instructions as to muggle transport and directions, and some muggle and wizard money. Ailie, with a shrug, pocketed both directions and money and retired to the bedroom to prepare.
The next few days formed into a regular routine. Hermione would rise early, and depart with Ginny and Ron as they left for work. Ailie would rise, prepare a leisurely breakfast, and wander about town entertaining herself. Both Weasley siblings would return to the flat at around six in the evening, when Ailie felt comfortable to return herself, and then the three would wait out the time until Hermione would force herself away from the vast library of the museum, which was usually a couple of hours later. It developed that the three non-bookworms would trek down to one of the local pubs for the duration, Ron having professed an ambition to introduce Ailie to as many London pubs as possible during her stay. Hermione would follow later, a mock frown on her face at finding her friends in a den of iniquity.
Their last night before being due to leave, in accordance with Hermione's self-imposed schedule, the Weasleys had put their foot down and commanded an entire evening with themselves as hosts. As Hermione had found a very promising track on her second day of research and would have enough information soon to go on with, it seemed probable that the plan would go forward without a hitch.
Ailie dressed with some anticipation. Ginny had mentioned something about a 'night-club', which appeared to be a venue for dancing. Ailie missed dancing; her life in the coven had been filled with joy and ritual. Ailie was glad she'd been able to explore London; she had at least some idea of what would look strange in her choice of clothing, and Ginny had promised to make sure she didn't have anything askew. There were more differences between her own culture and those at Hogwarts and London than Ailie ever would have expected. She looked at the clock on the wall, worrying that Hermione wouldn't be home in time for their proposed night to begin. She had said that she would try, but knowing Hermione...
Ron handed her a cool drink as she entered the living room, and smiled at the worried look on her face.
'Don't worry,' he said. 'Hermione will be here. The number of times Harry and I physically carried her out of the library when she wasn't having enough fun made her scared of being late for parties.' He grinned. 'Did I tell you how gorgeous you look yet?'
Ailie chuckled. 'No. The same to you.' She appraised Ron thoughtfully. 'Hermione never said you dress so well.' She was satisfied to see Ron blush.
Just then there were sounds of someone arriving at the door, and Hermione stumbled in under the weight of scrolls of paper, books and parchment. From the smile on her face, Ailie could see that the day's research had been successful.
'My theory was right!' she said, dumping her burdens on a nearby chair. 'I knew that the process of integration between the gestational period of tanglevines and sneering mugglewort would-'
Ron held up a hand, silencing her. 'Herm, even if we could understand what you're talking about, now's not the time. We're supposed to be relaxing, remember?'
Hermione gave him a rueful smile. 'I'm sorry. It's just so interesting. I think I've got enough research now to go on with, but there's so much more-' She caught Ron's look and stopped. 'Okay.'
Ginny's head popped out of her bedroom, the frown on her face clearing as she saw Hermione.
'There you are. Get your butt in here, 'Mione. I need your help deciding what to wear.' With a puzzled smile, Hermione headed for the bedroom. Ailie sighed happily and sat back in her chair. This was looking to be a good evening.
In the bedroom, Hermione looked around as Ginny threw even more clothes out of the closet. Tops and skirts were strewn everywhere.
'You were never this messy at school,' she said wonderingly. Ginny gave her a smile from the wardrobe, where she was sorting through a swathe of dresses.
'I was never this messy at home either. Mum would've had a fit. It's great having my own space.' She held up a short black dress for consideration. 'What do you think of this one?'
'Won't you be cold?' Hermione asked, idly looking through the clothes on the bed. Ginny scrunched up her nose.
'Not really, but I guess you're right. Maybe this one,' she decided, picking out a green outfit. Hermione politely turned away as Ginny changed.
'What are you going to wear?' Ginny asked from behind her. 'We don't want to clash.'
'I don't know. I didn't really bring anything, but I can always transfigure something,' Hermione said, turning around. 'Wow, Ginny, you look great!' Her friend was now encased in a dark green dress that flowed down to mid-calf, a watching shirt over the top. It went wonderfully with her dark red hair. Hermione tilted her head to the side. 'I didn't say before, but I'm jealous of your hair. I'm glad you didn't dye it any other colour. Red suits you.'
Ginny laughed. 'No, I couldn't get rid of the red, but at least I could make it darker than the Weasley Orange. Now, missy, your turn. What are you going to transfigure?'
Hermione looked down at her case, her brow furrowed in thought. Normally, she would have simply chosen a blouse and skirt, but was feeling daring after spending days with only books for company. Besides, both Ailie and Ginny were dressed attractively, and for once Hermione felt like competing. Deftly, she picked up a t-shirt she had packed, and waved her wand at it. With a little concentration, it became a short-sleeved dress, of a plain style, but made of black satin with small navy blue flowers embroidered on it. Ginny's eyes widened when she saw it.
'I really wish I was as good at transfiguration as you,' she said. 'I'd never have to buy clothes again.' Hermione gave a shrug, and began to change as Ginny left for the bathroom.
As the other girl left the room, Hermione paused. She felt like feeling special tonight. She contemplated her mostly-naked figure in the mirror. She usually favoured nice, but practical underwear, but tonight... with a wave of her wand, Hermione quickly transformed her bra and panties into a matching set of blue satin. She smiled as the bra changed shape slightly, supporting her more fully and adding a little cleavage. That was more like it. Quickly, she put on her newly-transfigured dress and searched around for some shoes she could also transform.
By the time Ginny came back in the room, Hermione was almost ready. She stood tall in her high-heels, made to match her dress. She had put her hair up in one of the styles Ailie had shown her, a loose bun with some of the curls tumbling down. The first few times she had tried it, Hermione had felt a little self-conscious, worrying that her hair looked simply messy, but the admiring glances she had attracted had made her relax somewhat. Ginny looked her up and down with approval.
'You look absolutely great, Hermione,' she said. She nodded toward the door. 'The bathroom's free, if you want it.'
'Thanks,' Hermione said as she headed to the door. 'Oh, Gin, I didn't bring any makeup- do you mind...?' At the other's nod, Hermione happily made her way to the bathroom.
When she stepped into the living room a few minutes later, Hermione was looking well above average and was aware of it. For once, she thought as she caught Ron's wide grin, she could feel like a normal girl.
The foursome headed off for an Italian restaurant nearby, a tiny place that Ginny assured did wonderful pizza. After a quick and enjoyable meal, they moved on to a nearby nightclub.
Hermione accepted the drink Ron handed her and looked around the place. On Ginny's advice, they had gone to a muggle nightclub- wizards, according to the young girl, had a lot over muggles, but their taste in music tended to be pretty bad. Remembering dances at Hogwarts, which were practically Hermione's only experience with such occasions, Hermione was inclined to trust Ginny's judgement, though it was strange to think of a Weasley having more experience with the muggle world than a muggle-born.
Beside her, Ginny and Ailie were in deep conversation. As Ron returned to the bar for his own drink, Hermione turned to them enquiringly.
'I was just telling Ailie the strategy for a place like this,' Ginny said smilingly. 'The trick is, not to stick to Ron too closely. For me, it's obvious that he's my brother, and most guys seem to get scared off by that. But if a guys saw him hovering around you two, he'd assume that Ron was boyfriend for one of you.'
'And that's such a bad thing?' asked Ailie teasingly. Hermione raised a mental eyebrow.
'Why would we need to worry about that?' Hermione asked, taking a sip of her drink.
Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Because if Ron's around, there's absolutely no chance of pashing a guy!' She caught Hermione's incredulous look. 'That's part of the fun, 'Mione.'
Hermione gave her a dark look. 'Gin, you sound like Lavender and Parvarti.'
Ginny shrugged. 'Not really. I'm not saying you have to get engaged to the guy. Just kiss him.' Hermione shook her head, but caught Ailie's eye.
'Kissing is an important part of bonding, Hermione,' the other girl said, a mischievous look in her eye. 'Anyway, not everyone can be satisfied with wonderful dreams as you do.'
Ginny raised her eyebrow at them. 'What sort of wonderful dreams?'
'It was not 'wonderful', Ailie, and you know it.' She glared at both of her friends. The moment was saved by Ron's return.
They managed to work their way to a table in the corner, from whence both Ginny and Ailie were asked to dance. It was impossible to talk properly in the club, and soon Ron himself got up to dance. Hermione stared into her drink, feeling morose. The thought of dancing in front of all these strangers seemed daunting. She gave herself a mental shake. This was not what she was out for. No wonder she dreamt about Snape; she was beginning to act like him.
With resolve, Hermione sacrificed the safety of the table. It took her a while to locate her friends in the crowd. Both Ginny and Ailie were happily dancing with a group of boys they seemed to have found, and Ron looked distinctly like he didn't want to be disturbed. Hermione smiled wryly. She may have decided to join the living, but they didn't want to join her.
She shrugged, and moved toward the bar. There was more to do than dance; she could do that later. Right now, she was inclined to spend some hard-earned money on one of the nasty-looking cocktails she had seen some people carrying.
While she waited for her drink- the bartender, a nice-looking young boy, had recommended something called a Midori Shaker, whatever that was- Hermione noticed the man standing at her elbow. Looking up, she noted that he looked as lost in the club as she felt. He glanced at her, and she gave him a shy smile.
After a few minutes, he turned to her again.
'Why aren't you dancing?' he asked loudly in her ear. Hermione shrugged, then indicated the bar.
'I'm getting warmed up for it,' she said, then noted his questioning look, and repeated her sentence in his ear. He smiled and nodded.
'Me too,' he said, pointing at his own drink. At that moment, the smiling bartender handed Hermione a canister with some sort of green liquid in it. She looked at it in confusion. The man beside her laughed.
'It's a shaker. You're supposed to drink it straight out of the cocktail shaker.' Hermione felt her heart sink a little at the revelation; it would be just her luck to spill the drink all over herself. Besides, elbows in this club seemed to make anything but a small glass dangerous to drink out of. She was still pondering her options when the man reached over the bar and picked out a glass. Hermione's eyes widened slightly at the behaviour, but took the glass with a grateful smile.
'It's okay,' the man said, noticing her look. 'I work here sometimes.' Hermione smiled and nodded. Timidly, she poured some of her drink out and tasted it. It wasn't bad, she reflected; a watermelon flavour. She smiled her thanks at the man.
'My name's Milton,' he said, bending again to her ear.
'Mine's Hermione,' she replied. His eyes widened in recognition.
'Isn't that a character in Shakespeare's A Winter's-'
'A Winter's Tale, yes,' Hermione replied with a rueful grin. 'Don't ask.' With two dentists as parents, Hermione had never been able to figure out where the sudden passion for romanticism had come from.
Milton looked around at the crowded bar, his added height giving him an advantage over Hermione.
'Hey, would you like to sit down? It's kind of noisy here,' he asked. A momentary flutter of panic exploded in Hermione's chest. It sounded as though he was thinking of trying to pick her up. With a silent sigh, Hermione berated herself; wasn't she the one who, at Christmas, had been bemoaning her lack of a social life?
With a smile, Hermione nodded and followed him through the crowd to a table in back of the bar, a quiet spot where speaking was, at least, possible.
Time passed smoothly as they talked. Hermione was surprised to find that Milton was studying the Romance languages at university; they spent an hour talking about the different translations of Beowulf, which Hermione had briefly studied during a literature course in college. They were well into their third drinks by the time Ginny, Ailie and Ron found them.
'I didn't know there was this little nook, here,' said Ginny, looking around appreciatively. Only slightly embarrassed at seemingly being caught out doing the thing she had earlier ridiculed them for, Hermione introduced Milton and motioned for her friends to take a seat. They firmly refused.
'We've decided it's time you came to dance,' said Ron, obviously well on the way to inebriation. He reached out a hand and began to pull her up.
Hermione glanced at Milton. She had really begun to like him in the space of their talk, and didn't want to lose his company. Daringly she reached out for his hand, gladdened by the look of pleasure that the move brought in his eyes.
'Dance?' she asked, and pulled him to his feet. His hand warmed hers as the group made their way to the dance floor.
Dropping it as they all formed a circle to dance, Hermione reflected on how nice it was to have such casual physical contact with a man. There hadn't been the nerve-wracking pleasurable tension she remembered the first time Victor had taken her hand, though that occasion had occurred in the library after two hours of talking, each waiting shyly for the other to make the first move. No, it wasn't that lovely anticipation of a crush, but it was nice all the same.
When a slow song came on and Milton pulled her into his arms, Hermione went with ease, enjoying the feel of dancing so close with a man. She didn't notice Ailie's careful eyes on her.
***
Snape twisted in the bed, feeling the blessed cool of untouched linen as his legs slammed to opposite sides of the bed. It took him a few moments to realise that he was awake, sweating coldly into the night. The remnants of dream clung to him, tying him down to the uncontrolled emotion and torturous pain of his nightmare.
Sitting up, Snape frowned into the night. He shouldn't have been dreaming at all, having finally given in and taken a dreamless sleep potion before he retired for the evening. At the staff meeting, Albus had dropped the not-so-subtle hint that if he didn't take it and get a decent nights' sleep, the entire faculty would tie him down and cast such an array of spells on him that he would sleep until next April. April was only a few weeks away, but it was the headmaster's way of indicating that the staff did not appreciate Snape's bad temper when he was tired.
With a grunt, Snape swung his feet over the edge of the bed and on to the floor, fighting with the tangled sheets as he did so. The cold of the floor was a blessing to his shocked system. He sat for a few moments, letting the cold seep into him. It was a relief after the dream.
Though he was a man who needed little sleep, the last few nights had been worse than usual. Ever since the weekend, closing his eyes brought no rest. Common nightmares, he was used to. It was a part of him he couldn't escape, but he had learnt how to deal with them on the occasions he was tormented with them. In the last few days, however, his battered subconscious, repressed and ignored, had seemingly decided to get revenge for years of neglect. The dreams he had been having had thrown up memories he had forgotten he had. Not all of them were bad; no, some of them merely brought on the water-torture of bittersweet pain and happy times, long lost. Wakefulness was by far the better option.
Snape sighed. If the bad had to be balanced with the good in life, he was willing to go for the mind-numbingly boring any day. Happiness, fleeting, fragile- it just wasn't his thing.
With a half-smile at the thought, Snape rose and walked over to the chair where he had placed his robes just a few hours ago. So many people were right about him, just not in the way they imagined.
He supposed this was his punishment for attacking Granger. He sighed, walking from his rooms and down the corridor. He still didn't know what had come over him. Control was usually his greatest ally. Yes, he could admit to himself that he seemed to have some absurd attraction to the girl, and she had provoked him, but that was no excuse. The little Gryffindor had about as much guile as a newborn kitten. Having the advantage over her in just about every way, his behaviour was inexcusable.
He would simply have to apologise. Ugh.
The pang of an oncoming headache led Snape in the direction of the kitchens. He could allow himself the luxury of a soothing hot drink after the evening he'd had. Waving the simpering house-elves away, he placed a kettle by the ever-roaring fire and settled down to wait. The ritual of making tea the long way had always soothed him.
It had to be Ailie, of course. He had brewed the dreamless sleep potion himself, so there was no doubt that it worked. No, for some reason, Ailie had seen fit to utilise their link, sending thoughts his way as he slumbered. No doubt she had planned on his being asleep and unresistant to the barrage of images and feelings she had dumped on his psyche. No doubt she was still angry at him for upsetting Hermione.
Snape flinched as another jolt of pain shot through his forehead. Damn the girl. If she would only cease trying to get into his head, his headache would go away. Of course, he could always just let her in, but that wasn't the point. She was the one assaulting him.
The kettle at the fire boiled, and Snape picked up a cloth nearby to move the boiling pot away from the flames. Carefully he measured out some tea-leaves directly into a mug, having a dislike for teapots- they always reminded him of his mother- and poured the boiling water in. Soon enough, he was able to sip at the beverage, but the pangs in his head continued. Ailie was nothing if not persistent. With a sigh, Snape gave in. If she wanted to show him something badly enough, so be it.
His decision was, of course, almost instantly regretted.
***
Ailie smiled as she felt her thought slither into Snape's mind. Not so far away, Hermione and her new friend were getting extremely... friendly in the corner. Not too passionate, but then, Hermione was a beginner. Ailie was certain that the mere sight of Hermione with her arms around a handsome man would be enough to prevent Snape's sleep for weeks. She gave a wicked chuckle, making Ron, dancing beside her, ask what the joke was.
She smiled up at him. 'Nothing, don't worry about it. I'm just glad to see Hermione's having fun.' Ron looked over at the couple in the corner, and smiled. Ailie liked the glint that had come into his eyes.
As Ron reached out and pulled her closer for a slow dance, Ailie tried to shut the flow of thoughts with Snape off. The potions master, of course, was having none of it, trying to wriggle more ideas about Hermione's occupation out of Ailie's mind. With a mental shrug, Ailie gave in. She was too drunk to fight him off, and too preoccupied. She moved in closer to Ron, brushing her body slightly to his and making him smile. She smiled too; Snape's mental snort of disgust was clearly audible to her. Having a Weasley brought in such close contact with his thoughts was not his idea of fun, she knew. She felt him retreat.
Ailie turned her attention to Ron, feeling all was right with the world.
The next morning, after a quick round of goodbyes and an appreciative smile at Ron, Ailie helped her hungover friend through the floo system with all the relish that could be had in anticipating the row that would greet them as soon as they saw Snape.
A/N: I hope you all liked it. I've never chatted up anyone or had someone who wasn't abysmally sleazy try to chat me up in a nightclub, so I don't know how the conversation works. If the conversation in the bar seems odd, then it's my inexperience, sorry.
A few people seemed to think that Hermione was moving away permanently; I hope this chapter set your minds at ease (it would be overreacting a little if she had, wouldn't it? I mean, he did bite her ear, but it's not the end of the world.).
I had an evil little chuckle to myself as I began writing Snape's side of things; I couldn't resist. Mwahahaha....
'While you are away My heart comes undone Slowly unravels In a ball of yarn The devil collects it With a grin Our love In a ball of yarn He'll never return it So when you come back we'll have to make new love.' -Bjork, 'Unravel' (Homogenic)