Top of Form
I can't say much. I have to go to school. So I'm out!
Hermione slid her black robes over her plain grey skirt and sweater vest. She straightened her tie and pulled her wavy brown hair back into a bun with a pencil, leaving a few wisps to frame her slightly pale face. She didn't feel up to attending NEWT level Potions. It contained five Ravenclaws, two Gryffindors: herself and Harry, no Hufflepuffs and twelve Slytherins. She sighed. She had never complained much about the class aloud, especially since it was her most well-learned subject, but after a restless night she wasn't much up for the challenge.
"Granger, Snape's making me escort you to class, so get your ass out here so I can get breakfast!" Draco shouted at her. She flinched. She remembered the owl this morning. Snape had sent her an owl telling her that Draco or Harry would accompany her to all of her classes, as an extra precaution. He had said that Draco would escort her to the Great Hall then to potions. She didn't much want to spend more time with Draco than necessary, but she grabbed her books and walked, quickly to the door, grasping her wand which was magically held just inside her right sleeve. She nodded satisfied and opened the door. Draco stood annoyed off to the side, looking at his watch.
"How long does it take you to get ready? All the time it took, and I would have thought you to be wearing a gown and have your hair and make-up all prettied up for a ball. Same tangled tattered hair and no make-up. You look like shit," Draco commented.
"Thanks Malfoy," Hermione muttered. He had at least given up calling her hair bushy as it wasn't any more. The frizz had cooled down and softened into glossy waves.
"I think you look lovely my lady. I'm sure he only wishes he could find a lady as fine as you to court," Godric said, generously from his painting.
"Thank you, Godric. You are too kind. Have a fine day good sir," Hermione flashed him a tired smile, which he returned with one of his own and a bow "Not getting enough sleep?" he asked, quietly so Godric couldn't hear him.
"Well, as much as expected considering I have four weeks to choose which person I'm going to spend the rest of my life with without killing them, and if you'd like to know you don't help me in any way. You make my every choice seem like it'll lead to death," Hermione said, following him out of the common room and into the corridor.
"Well they won't, will they? Discontent, Love and Death, I heard were your choices. Choosing wisely I'd assume?" Draco smirked at her, as they passed many yawning paintings as they woke from their sleep
"Go to hell you bastard," Hermione growled. She wasn't in the mood for him at the moment. She ignored a gasp from "If I recall, you're next in line if you choose wrong," Draco smirked.
"You talk as if you know who I'm meant to choose," Hermione glared at him.
"Well, yes, actually. I know who your Death is," Draco smirked, mysteriously.
"Oh, do tell of your infinite wisdom, Malfoy," Hermione said, sarcasm dripping from her every syllable.
"Oliver Wood is death, obviously. Slytherin and Gryffindor concur from what they've seen of the guy," Draco stated, matter-of-factly.
"They're paintings," Hermione said.
"Oh yes, that's why you will sit outside your room for hours talking to "Godric" as you call him. I know you go to him for any advice you need on anything. I'm not deaf, you know. I heard you talking to him about Snape once, too," Draco smirked, happily.
"Well, I seem to have heard about your relationship with a certain red-haired Gryffindor. Are you about to explain that?" Hermione loved the look of fury that crossed Draco's face.
"That bastard told you? I'll rip his testicles off!" Draco exclaimed.
"I'd hex you before you got within sight of me," a silky voice said behind them. Hermione jumped, letting out a squeak, grabbing Draco's arm.
"What the bloody hell was that for?" Draco rolled his eyes at Hermione's skittishness as she slowly drew her hand from his arm, when her eyes met the dark pools of Severus Snape's.
"Professor, y-you know I'm still not completely together after... You can't sneak up on me like that," Hermione said, breathlessly.
"After what?" Draco frowned.
"I'm surprised no one told you," Hermione hissed, darkly.
"Hermione," Snape placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"No, Severus," Hermione shied away, at the touch. "Look, there is the great Hall; I'm going there. No one will jump me between here and there," Hermione said, walking off quickly for the Great Hall, her head down.
"Oh Severus," Draco fake-swooned.
"It's not funny Draco," Snape said, grabbing the boy roughly by the collar and pulling him close, glaring venomously at him.
"What the hell is going on?" Draco demanded, trying to pull from his godfather's grasp, but he was too strong.
Snape sighed, releasing him. He glanced at Hermione.
"Draco, Lucius... was here a week ago," he said, his eyes followed Hermione as she sat with her friends at the Gryffindor.
"And...?" Draco pressed impatiently.
"He... attempted to... force himself on Miss Granger," Snape said, a pained look on his face.
"YOU LET HIM!" Draco shouted.
"Do not be stupid, Draco. I was the one to personally pull him off of her. It wasn't his usual tactic. He's usually not known for such bluntness, especially with two other, fully qualified wizards in the room, two that wouldn't hesitate to kill him," Snape said.
"So that's really why she hasn't been sleeping," Draco frowned.
"What do you mean?" Snape frowned.
"She was awake all night. She had this god-awful music blasting in her room, and I know she was using her punching bag. I could hear her kicking it and punching it. She sometimes does that on nights before Potions and Transfiguration tests, but we don't have any tests this week," Draco said.
"Miss Granger had a punching bag?" Snape asked, surprised.
"Yes, she requested it for the headmaster. I heard her talking to Gryffindor about ways of relieving stress, after she had an anxiety attack during a Transfiguration test when she forgot the date. He suggested punching the wall, jokingly, but a few days later she was bringing it into her room and that very night she started. Sometimes she comes out with her hands bruised before a test.
"I don't understand. I gave her a dreamless sleep potion," Snape frowned.
"I guess she didn't take it," Draco shrugged. "She's been through more than just anxiety attacks and overwork you know?" he said, studying his godfather carefully, but the man gave nothing of his emotions away.
"She talks to Gryffindor for hours, crying her eyes out. I'm sure I've heard about her being beaten and if you watch her carefully, you might notice she limps slightly on her left leg, some of the time," Draco said, darkly.
"Who?" Snape growled, his anger blatantly obvious.
"I don't know sir. I can only eaves drop so well. I wish I didn't have to treat her so badly, but if anyone saw me..." Draco trailed off.
"I know, Draco, and I'm sure she understands, but who..." Snape's anger still shined in his eyes, harshly. "Come, eat breakfast. You're escorting her and Potter to Potions, or at least keeping her in sight, understood," it wasn't much of a question, though he phrased it as one.
"Yes sir," Draco nodded, bitterly, but he knew better than to oppose his pissed-off godfather.
"Good," Snape said, turning. His robes billowed behind him as he walked to and through the great hall. A first year Slytherin ran into him and was knocked. "Fifteen points from Slytherin he snapped at the poor boy, who ran off, nearly in tears at the loss of points. Everyone stared at him in awe. He never docked points from his own house.
There was absolute silence as he took his seat at the head table, between McGonagall and Trelawney, who had decided to come down from her tower and grace them with her gagging perfumes and terrify them with her large circular eyes.
"What is wrong, Severus?" Minerva McGonagall asked, concerned, placing a hand on his forearm. He flinched, and sent her a deadly glare.
"Severus," Minerva said, in a threatening tone.
"I've just been informed something about Miss Granger that unsettles me considerably, Minerva. That is all," Snape said, sharply, his gaze icy.
"Ah, Hermione, there are many things in her life that would make a weak person tremble," Minerva looked at the girl, who wore a smile on her face. It was forced, but they didn't seem to notice.
"You know of them?" Snape asked.
"I know much of Hermione. She is amazing. I am her second confidant I am honored to say, second only to Godric Gryffindor's painting, of course," Minerva said.
"What is with her and that painting. It's not even a person!" Snape said, incredulously.
"Godric Gryffindor was a great, understanding man and Hermione would be in much worse shape without him. He holds her every secret unflinchingly and she loves him for it," Minerva said, reverence in her voice.
"What about her friends?" Snape asked, frowning deeply.
"They know nothing of her past or future, Severus. They are only children after all. She was not just born with that brain, but with the weight of maturity at a young age," Minerva sighed. "Now, look, I've said too much. Just know, Severus. If you're to be courting the poor girl, you must be gentle with her. She is not as strong as she seems in classes."
"I'll keep that in mind," Snape said, slumping in his seat and pushing his food around his plate, not a usual action for the professor. He would usually be brisk in everything he did. He rarely dawdled; he would usually do what was necessary and move on, but he was too lost in his thoughts to care at the moment.
"You're all right though, Severus?" Minerva squeezed his shoulder, in a motherly way.
"I am tolerable," Severus said, through clenched teeth.
"Good, now you'd best grab a roll and get to class. It's in five minutes," Minerva said. Severus cursed colorfully, and stood, stalking from the now mostly empty Great Hall.
"He is a bit preoccupied, don't you think Albus?" Minerva smiled.
"Indeed, Minnie," Albus grinned back, impishly.
"You'll stop interfering now of course," Minerva said, studying her smiling husband.
"Whatever do you mean Minnie?" his grin broadened and he took another bite of pudding and stood, just as she did.
"I mean it, Albus, you need to stop," Minerva said, not falling for that smile or the twinkle in his eyes.
"I still don't understand my dear," Albus let out a sharp laugh.
"You, leave those two alone!" Minerva exclaimed.
"I'm not bothering anyone, Minnie. I am hurt by the insinuation that I am interfering in something," Albus said.
"I'm not inferring Albus!" Minerva exclaimed. He continued in his denial and with his broad grin.
Draco sat between Crabbe and Goyle in silence. They were never bright enough to make up a conversation on their own, so they all sat in silence, but for the grunts of the two, who were shoving their faces.
"Hello Draco," a squeaky, nagging voice attempted to sound seductive. Draco didn't even look up.
"Pansy," he replied, as he finished his eggs. He ignored her attempts at getting as close as possible to him, as Crabbe had moved to allow her to sit by him. He felt his lips on his ear and shoved her away, disgusted. He wrinkled his nose at the wiry, pale girl, trying to stifle his vomit.
He saw Hermione leaving her table with Ron and Harry, and he followed slowly, ignoring Pansy's cries for him to come back. His eyes locked with Hermione's as she glanced at him, but he just sneered at her, keeping his distance.
"Look, there's Potter," Goyle guffawed stupidly.
"Indeed," Draco said, sounding eerily like Snape. He saw Ginny rising from her table, and he sent her a warm smile, which she returned, happily, as she went with Luna Lovegood to her Transfiguration class.
"Who ya lookin' a'?" Goyle grunted.
"Mind your own business Goyle. Honestly, you'd think you'd learned to just not talk. Your idiocy might be infecting," Draco hissed, injecting as much venom into his voice as possible.
"We should show up late to herbology and find some girls for a quick shag," Crabbe suggested, eagerly, rubbing his hands together.
"You idiot, I'm in Potions, which is now and I'd rather not miss something that might let Miss I'm-so-bloody-perfect Granger beat me at the Newts, so if you'll excuse me..." Draco quickened his pace, escaping the two idiots.
Draco could still see Hermione and he intended to keep it that way. As they approached the stairs to the dungeons, Ron broke off, going to some other class. Draco walked about five feet behind the two for until they reached the bottom of the stairs, when Harry turned abruptly, his wand in Draco's face. "Good hearing," Draco thought, crossing his arms and smirking.
"Why are you following us? Not planning on trying to court 'Mione, are we?" he demanded.
"Oh please, the world doesn't revolve around you and that little chit, contrary to popular belief, Potter. I am going to Potions you dumb ass," Draco rolled his eyes, continuing to walk.
"Mr. Potter! Why is it that you have your wand pointed at Mr. Malfoy's head?" Snape's cold voice rang out. Hermione winced at the tone he only used with her best friend.
"Please sir, he's just being protective. He thought Draco was following me had something to do with Lucius' petition. He didn't mean anything by it, I swear," Hermione said, her voice pleading.
"All the same, Miss Granger, twenty points from Gryffindor, and five from Slytherin. Draco I'm sure you know the reason," Snape said, glaring hard at him.
"I have to insult her! I'm a 'Death Eater,'" Draco hissed, stepping closer to his godfather so Harry couldn't hear.
"I don't care what you have to do. You won't do any of it in my dungeons," Snape said, harshly, in a quiet voice.
"Fifty points from both houses, if you don't get into the classroom in fifteen seconds," he said, louder. Harry tore for the classroom, Draco close behind him, but Hermione hung back.
"Sir, that won't help. He's going to say what he needs to… to keep his cover," Hermione said, softly, observing him closely. His eyes flashed with some unreadable emotion.
"He doesn't need to insult you to keep his cover. Potter is the only one he has to be a bastard to," he lowered his voice an octave and said, as he passed her, "The same is true for me."
Hermione stood still for a moment, before following him closely. She took the only empty seat at the very front of the room beside Harry, who was scowling, as Snape stalked to the front of the room. Draco had obviously taken the far back seat. They used a different room for NEWT level as even the ingredients were more advanced.
"Now as a special new week present, I give you La Morte la più Scura," Snape said. "Now, I don't expect any of you to get it right. There are only a handful who can. I do however expect you to attempt to retain the ingredients and process as much as your undoubtedly small minds can handle. You will not get points for brewing this potion that none of you will be able to handle, but if it's so abysmal that it deserves to lose points, then it shall," Snape looked pointedly at Harry.
"You will all work separately in my personal silver cauldrons and if any blow up, I promise you that you will never graduate, and you will forever be in detention with Mr. Filch," Snape threatened, looking very serious.
"And if I so much as see you trying to use Miss Granger's knowledge to your advantage Potter, you will be dropped from my class in a heartbeat. Miss Granger, help him and you will lose 200 house points and serve detention for a week.
Hermione went bright red, and Harry's eyes flashed angrily.
"Firstly, who here speaks Italian?" Snape asked, looking over the students. Hermione's hand went up, unusually hesitant. "Anyone other than Miss Granger?" Snape trained his voice to be bored. No ones did.
"Are any of you bilingual?" he demanded.
All the hands in the room went up. "Very well, then you will all write your essay in your second language or third or fourth or fifth. I do not care much." Groans went through the students.
"So, Miss Granger, care to translate the meaning of La Morte la più Scura?" Snape asked.
"Yes sir, it means The Darkest Death. If performed incorrectly it is completely harmless, but correctly and ingested it will slowly make the person mute, and kill them horribly," Hermione said, darkly. "Perché farebbe impariamo una pozione cosí scura?" Hermione muttered to herself. (Why would we learn such a dark potion)
"You are not learning it, Miss Granger. You are learning the level of difficulty of such Dark Potions. It is an anti-dark-potion tactic," Snape said. Hermione looked at him surprised.
"Yes, and don't think any of you will get away with calling me names in your languages behind my back. It'd be better to stick to English, because I can speak nine languages," Snape said, threateningly. Draco muttered something to one of his Slytherin friends, who started laughing.
"Mr. Malfoy!" Snape said, sharply. Draco looked up quickly. "Care to write the ingredients here for the potion?" Snape offered, condescendingly.
"I don't know them sir," Draco said. "But Granger seems to know everything. Why don't you ask her"
"I doubt Hermione has become that obsessed with the subject," Padma said.
"Excuse me Miss Patil?" Snape glared at her. Padma blanched.
"I don't think Hermione knows sir," Padma said, faintly, looking scared.
"Well, Miss Granger. It looks as if no one can support you in this," Snape said, walking to the front to write the ingredients.
"That's wrong! Hermione does know! She's a genius and this is her best subject. She's probably better than you!" Harry muttered, under his breath. Snape, unfortunately had better hearing then Harry thought. He was in Harry's face in a second.
"Do not question my skills, boy. Two weeks detention with Filch," Snape hissed. "And fifty points from Gryffindor, but if you're so confident in Miss Granger, then perhaps she should put the ingredients up," Snape said.
Hermione went extremely pale. She looked at him with pleading eyes, but he just crossed his arms, looking at her, expectantly. She snapped her fingers and her wand slipped into her hand. She walked to the board and thought deeply, muttering a remembering spell. She tapped the board and one ingredient appeared. She did this seventeen times, before frowning at the spell.
"I don't-I-sir, I," Hermione stuttered, blushing furiously.
"Stay after class Miss Granger," Snape said briskly.
"The three ingredients not hear are witches blood, wizard's blood, and werewolf blood. Miss Granger left out the two most simple to acquire then the one most difficult to find," Snape said.
Hermione sat beside Harry, burying her face in her arms, embarrassed beyond anything ever before. She bit her lip to keep from crying.
Snape excused them to get their ingredients. With a wave of his wand, all the specific instructions appeared on their tables. Hermione kept her head down as she passed him, trying to stop a tear from sliding down her cheek, but she allowed only the one to escape.
Hermione stubbornly fought back her tears as she began dicing, slicing and cutting, using exquisite technique that she had been studying since her first year and had finally mastered. She ignored Harry, as she began brewing the potion, measuring with precision, not sloshing anything, but stirring with an unsteady hand.
"Sono spiacente. Ciò non avrei dovuto fare," Snape said, as he bent over, pretending to inspect her potion, while she was halfway through it. (I'm sorry. I should not have done that.)
"No, sta bene. Ciò è il suo lavoro, non è esso," Hermione muttered. (No I understand. That's your job, isn't it?)
"Per favore, lo farò fino a lei. Non voglio essere il suo di nemico. Ho abbastanza di quelli," Snape said, in a harsh tone, pretending like he was scolding her. (Please, I'll make it up to you. I do not want to be your enemy Hermione. I have enough of those)
"I will sir, thank you," she said, darkly, wanting to end their conversation.
Review!!! I updated really quickly, so you all must review! pleasepleaseplease. if you're lazy: c for cool. b for bad ass a for awesome, d for damn awful and f for fuckin' lousy. thanks. Please don't give me too many f's
