The week with the potential exchange students from Beauxbatons officially began.
Monday
or
would you like tea with your tart?
Harry and Ron were headed to the Beauxbatons Carriage to escort the delegation into the school for breakfast in the Great Hall. They were part of a large group of students singled out for this purpose the previous morning, but today they hadn't stayed with the group. They had fallen behind as they were involved in an ernest discussion.
"How can McGonagall be so calm? I mean she went to get potion ingredients with Snape, and then disappeared. She didn't come back last night, and she isn't here this morning. Anything could have happened to her," Ron said, in a clearly agitated tone.
"Well McGonagall isn't upset, so she must be okay," Harry replied calmly.
"Maybe, but if she is, why wouldn't McGonagall tell us anything?" Ron asked.
"Maybe it's a girl thing," Harry whispered.
"Ew. Do you think it could be?" Ron whispered back.
"I dunno." Harry's voice returned to normal. "But, there must be some reason for the way McGonagall is handling it. When we told her, she didn't even seem surprised by the news. She just wanted to know how we knew."
"I thought she'd figured out about the map," Ron said.
"Lucky for us she - " Harry broke off as he stared down the path to Hogsmeade. "Ron did you notice Snape anywhere on the map last night?"
"No, but I wasn't looking for him. Why?" Ron asked.
"Look." Harry pointed down the path to Hogsmeade.
"Hermione," Ron smiled. "She's okay!"
Harry and Ron stopped and stared. They saw Snape bend and speak into Hermione's ear, then they heard her laugh carry up the breeze to them. They watched the two walk up the path, deeply involved in conversation. When Hermione smiled up into Professor Snape's face, and reach up to tuck a lock of Snape's hair behind his ear, Ron had to react. "Gross!" he yelled loud enough to get the attention of Professor Snape and Hermione.
"Now you've done it. We'll get detention for sure," Harry groaned.
"What the hell is going on?" Ron asked.
Harry laughed. "It was nothing. Okay, it was gross. But it's Hermione, it's not like it meant anything," Harry explained patiently.
They continued to watch as Professor Snape swooped up to them, his robes whipping dramatically behind him, encouraged by the strong autumn breeze.
"Mr Potter, and... Mr Weasley," Professor Snape enunciated in his most menacing tone. "Isn't there somewhere that you should... be?"
"Uh, yeah Professor," Harry answered, "we're going to walk the Beauxbatons lot to the Great Hall. Like we did yesterday."
"Then do so," The Professor commanded silkily.
As they hurried towards the French Carriage Ron whispered, "Harry, where do you think she was last night? You don't think she was with Snape do you? Are there any potion ingredients you have to pick at night or something?"
"I don't know about that, I think there are, but I bet she just had to be somewhere and he's bringing her back," Harry said firmly. Ron was convinced. Although Harry wasn't sure that he had convinced himself.
Harry felt better when he got to the Great Hall. He saw Hermione talking with Professors McGonagall, and Snape. Harry thought everything had to be legitimate or they wouldn't be with the Transfiguration teacher, and head of Gryffindor house.
Harry was close enough to hear as Professor Snape spoke. "Shall we?" he heard Professor Snape ask Hermione.
Harry's mouth opened in amazement as he saw Hermione look up into Snape's eyes and say enthusiastically, "Oh, I think so." Harry stared as Hermione took Snape's arm, and they left together.
An hour later Professor Snape strode down the dungeon corridor, a headache already beginning to pound behind his eyes. 'It is time for the first class of the day, on the first day of a week promising to be filled with obligatory niceties towards potential exchange students. Joy,' Professor Severus Snape grumbled internally.
He released the feminine hand he was holding to cast his wandless spell on the classroom door. The door to the Potions classroom slammed open, it's usual resounding boom echoing throughout the dungeons.
There were several exclamations of fright expressed in heavy French accents, from the potential exchange students in the room.
Professor Snape entered the classroom with his robes billowing spectacularly behind him. He didn't notice the amused smile on the face of the witch walking beside him.
"Silence," Professor Snape ordered in his deep silky voice. The French students quieted, as the Hogwart's students began to murmur in wonderment at a smiling Hermione walking in with Snape.
Professor Snape swept to the front of the classroom, and Hermione his wife, HIS WIFE, took a seat in the front row. At a table right in front of his desk. Her lips were still red and puffy from their kisses. His eyes took in her clothing, she wore the uniform of a student. He couldn't decide if he found this highly arousing, or utterly repulsive. Either way it was disturbing. This inner conflict made him angry. Her current attire and position was entirely the Headmaster's fault. 'Blast him,' Severus thought. He briefly assuaged his anger by wondering if he could create a potion... an impotence potion. Yes, that would be perfect. An impotence potion that he could reduce into a solid, that looked and tasted exactly like Sherbet Lemons. 'That,' he thought, 'would give the old man something to think about.' He wouldn't do it, but it was satisfying to consider. At least Hermione would not have to pretend to be a regular student as Albus had intended. He could take small comfort from the knowledge that he had convinced Minerva to make Hermione an assistant in all the seventh year classes this week. After all it was justifiable with the Beauxbatons students in those classes. He smirked.
The Hogwart's students knew by now to be wary of that smirk. However, the Beauxbatons students tentatively gave him answering smiles.
He shook himself out of the pleasing fantasy of an impotent Albus Dumbledore popping yet another Sherbet Lemon in his mouth, to begin his class. His anger was back in full force. His eyes narrowed and his lips curled into a sneer as he regarded his N.E.W.T. level Potions class. A class full of the usual Gryffindor and Slytherin troublemakers, and today there was the bonus of potential exchange students. At least he had an avenue with which to vent his frustrations.
"Surely you have all noticed that we have guests with us today," His low derisive voice was barely above a whisper, but everyone heard his words clearly. "You are here," Professor Snape addressed the cluster of students from Beauxbatons, "to learn exactly what academic life at Hogwarts entails. Therefore, no exceptions will be made in this class. You will be expected to... keep up with my students," he paused to glare pointedly at Harry Potter, "some you may even surpass. Today we will be brewing a memory enhancing potion. The ingredients and method are on the board. My students should have their notes from the last lesson, as well. If you have not completed a successful potion during this class you will report to my office with a four foot essay on memory enhancing potions tomorrow morning before classes begin for the day. There will be no talking or assisting other students. You will each create this potion individually." Realising he had to explain why his wife was not participating he added, "Hermione," the Hogwarts students exchanged startled and confused looks at Professor Snape referring to Hermione by her given name, "is acting as an assistant in all seventh year classes while the Beauxbatons students are with us. However, she will not be helping you with your coursework in this class. If you can not work independently by now, you should not be here." He waved his hand imperiously in the direction of the store cupboard, and the door clicked open. "Gather what you need, and begin."
As the rush for the store cupboard commenced Severus walked up to Hermione and leaned over her shoulder. He whispered in her ear, "What would you like to do?"
As she saw no one looking in their direction she dared to lean her head back and look up at him, bringing her face within scant inches of his. She whispered, her breath a soft and warm on his skin from this proximity, "I would like to lighten your teaching burden. Perhaps there are some lower level tests or essays I could correct for you," she suggested. Before he could respond, she finished with a seductive purr of, "Professor."
Slightly shocked by the suggestive inflections she used when breathing his title, he straightened and answered, "Indeed."
The room was soon filled with only the sounds of students chopping ingredients, and Severus' and Hermione's quills scratching on parchments.
Halfway through the class a Beauxbatons student approached Severus' desk. Her approach was unnoticed by Severus, but Hermione didn't miss her. Hermione noticed that the student was tall, and lithe. She had long silky honey blonde hair parted in the middle, and pouty lips that Hermione knew she had intentionally reddened by biting. Hermione was further appalled as the student passed her, swaying her hips as she went.
Hermione's eyes widened as the student leaned over Severus' desk. She arched her back to accentuate her breasts as she breathily said, "Profezzeur Znape?"
"Of all the - " Hermione muttered angrily under her breath.
Professor Snape looked up and was met with the student's breasts. Instead of continuing to look at the student's form, he wisely chose to divert his attention to his wife. "Hermione, could you please help Miss..."
"Devereaux. However, you may call me Angelique, zir," she said huskily, as she practically panted at Professor Snape.
Professor Snape continued, "...Deveraux, with whatever she - "
"Pleaze, zir, can you not 'elp me yourzelf?" Angelique had the audacity to ask.
Professor Snape raised a derisive eyebrow and moved so that he could look at the student's face. His dark eyes were cold and narrowed in suspicion, "Miss Deveraux, you will cease speaking to me in this manner at once. If you require something, then you shall ask Hermione - "
"You call 'er by 'er firzt name!" Her voice rose as she stamped her foot.
"Sit down, Miss Deveraux!" Professor Snape spat, his voice sharp and venomous.
Angelique returned to her seat with a shocked expression at Professor Snape's rejection of her overtures. She was fuming under her breath, "Ze Profezzeurs at Beauxbatons, ZEY are ze gentlemen. Zey vould never treat me zo."
Professor Snape addressed all the Beauxbatons students, in his low menacing tones, "I am not entirely sure to what you are accustomed, however, you will find that ignorance is not an excuse in this class. I expect each and every one of you to obey me without hesitation or question, lest you suffer my... disfavour. Is that clear?" The Beauxbatons students nodded and muttered assent. At this Professor Snape snapped, "Back to work!"
A few minutes later the determined Angelique again approached Severus. When she arrived, Professor Snape looked up at her, fury etched in his features. He pushed back his chair to rise and berate her, but he was forestalled by her next move. She fluttered a hand on her chest and spoke breathlessly, "Profezzeur, ze, ze fumzes... " her voice trailed of dramatically. She swayed on her feet, and fell gracefully into Professor Snape's lap.
Professor Snape was momentarily frozen in shock at the sheer audacity of someone thinking he would respond to such a display.
Hermione shot out of her chair, and was there in an instant. "Get OFF HIM!" she raged; as she grabbed the brazen, favour currying tart by her hair and hauled her off Severus.
The obviously completely alert recipient of Hermione's wrath, struck back with catty reflexes. Angelique slapped Hermione hard across the face leaving deep scratches with her ridiculously long fingernails, causing Hermione to release her hair. However, before she could form a triumphant grin, Hermione had her wand pressed into her throat and was beginning to whisper a hex.
"Expelliarmus! Accio Hermione's wand!" Harry cast in quick succession. He did this in order to save Hermione from serious consequences. Harry Potter stood holding Hermione's wand with a stunned expression on his face.
The class watched as Professor Snape took Hermione's hands in one of his, and drew her to him. He then tipped her face with his other hand and examined her scratches. Professor Snape did not relinquish his hold on Hermione as he turned to Angelique.
"Potter!" he barked. Harry hurried to the front of the class. "Take Miss Deveraux to the Headmaster's office and..."
"Severus, he's out of the castle with the Ministry officials this morning," Hermione reminded him quietly.
Harry's eyebrows knit together as he realised Hermione had used Professor Snape's first name. He was pulled out of this thoughts by Snape continuing his instructions.
Professor Snape's cold lethal voice smoothly resumed, "...take her to the Deputy Headmistress' office Potter, and wait for me there. As soon as I have treated my wif - , Hermione's injuries we shall join you."
Harry handed Hermione back her wand and took Angelique by the sleeve.
"And Potter, you may use magic to restrain her if necessary."
"Yes, sir," Harry answered enthusiastically. He knew as Professor Snape spoke, that those words spoken in that voice, would keep the Beauxbatons student docile on the trip to Professor McGonagall's office.
"The rest of you," Professor Snape said in his soft dangerous voice, "despite our little... drama, your potions should be finished. I want them bottled, labeled, and on my desk... Now. Clear up, get out."
That evening a barefoot Severus who had stripped down to his untucked white linen shirt and trousers, relaxed gratefully on a cheerful tartan couch in his office. His wife was pressed into his side, resting on him in her silver grey evening robes.
"It may clash with your office but it's quite comfortable." She smiled.
"Mmmm," he replied.
"It was really thoughtful of Minerva to send it for the week," she added.
"Indeed," he agreed.
"Although I think her best deed of the day was to send that French tart back to France," Hermione asserted.
"Albus doesn't agree with you," he pointed out.
"Yes, well he wasn't here, so it was Minerva's decision," she said.
"Technically it was Minerva's suggestion, and Madam Maxime's decision," he corrected.
"Who cares, so long as that tart is out of your hair," Hermione decreed.
"She did not actually touch my hair," he baited.
"She was in your lap!" Hermione said. Her voice holding an odd tone, a mixture of anger and insecurity.
Severus smiled at her, his deep eyes boring into hers. "There is only one witch I ever want in my lap," he said, in his low melodic voice. He suddenly pulled Hermione into his lap.
"Severus what - " she began in surprise.
He cut her off as he took her lips with his. He kissed her slowly, sensually, clearly stating his intent.
Hermione could see the passion, the need, in his dark eyes as he drew back slightly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth back to hers. She kissed him deeply, sliding her tongue into his mouth. She teased the tip of his tongue with the tip of hers. She felt the passion build as the teasing kiss turned wild, and their tongues stroked each other furiously.
Quite sometime later they fell into a peaceful sleep, wrapped around each in the lingering post coital haze of their spent passion.
They both slept very well that night, on the couch Minerva had sent them.
Tuesday
or
you're not paranoid if everyone really is out to get you.
Severus and Hermione walked in the front door of Number 12 Grimmauld Place and made their way to the kitchen. Most of the Order was already assembled. Severus and Hermione sat together and talked quietly with each other, as a few stragglers made their way in. It was not long before Albus called for attention. I have some good news to begin with. It would seem that James Adams, our new colleague from America is well on his way to becoming a servant of Voldemort, and a spy for the Light. Severus if you would be so kind as to fill us in." Albus smiled.
Severus addressed the group in dark tones. "I received information this morning that the inner circle will be called to The Dark Lord's side this evening. He is still in China although his exact location is unobtainable. Lucius Malfoy will be bringing James Adams with him. If all goes as planned Adams will be branded tonight. With Lucius vouching for him, The Dark Lord should accept him without probing his mind."
"Will you be off to China to join your Master?" Moody threw at Snape.
"Alastor - " Arthur Weasley began.
At the same time Severus growled, "Moody - "
Before either man could speak to Moody Hermione was on her feet leaning over that table bringing herself almost nose to nose with the old Auror. Her outraged voice overrode everyone else's.
"You are worse then those you purport to oppose Alastor Moody. At least Death Eaters are honest about who and what they are. They don't hide their prejudices and sadistic practices behind a false face of justice. You know Severus Snape is fighting on the same side you are. You flaunt your scars openly thinking they make you important. You don't know what real honour and sacrifice is. Severus Snape embodies both. He goes back to be tortured, not cursed and left with a simple scar, NO, he is TORTURED! time and time again in order to get any information he can to help us win this fight. He has almost died more times than you could imagine. Poppy has told me that there were several times when his injuries were so severe that she was sure he couldn't survive. But his strength and - " she broke off at the feel of Severus' hand on her arm.
Severus stood and whispered in her ear. His low voice was so quiet that only she could hear, "You are truly a force to be reckoned with my fearsome one, but he will never change his opinions. Don't do this to yourself. Accept it as I do. Leave it. Sit with me."
Hermione plunked down in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. Silently she glared at Moody, a fierce protective fire blazing in her eyes.
Severus folded himself elegantly in his seat and leaned into Hermione's ear again. "My wife," he breathed, "you are a warrior Goddess brought to life. Badb, Macha and the Mórrígan all quake in your shadow. You are so incredibly beautiful when you are like this."
The rest of the meeting went smoothly. Everyone reported or contributed in their own way. When it was Hermione's turn she spoke calmly and with a confidence that she didn't really feel. Acting in her new role of tactician she said, "I suggest that we begin planting false information for The Dark Lord to discover. Yes," she cut off the people who were about to interrupt, "I realise it can't be through the spies. We can't jeopardise their important positions. No, we need to plant something that The Dark Lord can find himself. That will make the misinformation even more credible. We need to create false information that the Dark Lord would be compelled to believe, but that he can not confirm in any way. Something that would shake The Dark Lord's confidence, off balance him. Perhaps evidence that Harry is becoming extremely powerful, or that our numbers have increased, or that we have - Yes! I have it! That we have developed a new curse that is devastating, and has no counter curse. A curse that can banish a soul from this plane of existence permanently. We need to make him believe that we have had successes in testing this curse," she continued excitedly, "that there is a long-standing mole within his ranks, who is willing to die to use the curse on him. He will become paranoid, he will start to mistrust his allies. He will begin to make mistakes. However, we must formulate a way to do this that does not endanger our spies. With the false information we must lead The Dark Lord's paranoia in another direction."
"A good plan Hermione!" Tonks enthused.
"It really is!" Remus added.
"We may be able to use this," Albus allowed.
"Make him more paranoid, utterly brilliant," Kingsley Shaklebolt concurred.
Hermione blushed and said, "Thank you." She turned to pointedly address Alastor Moody, "And thank you. I never would have thought of making him paranoid, unhinged as it were, without you."
Wednesday
or
his secret obsession.
"Mr Malfoy, that will be 10 points from Slytherin. Remove your wand from Mr Zabini's face, and explain yourselves," Severus snarled, as he and Hermione emerged from the shadows of the dungeon corridor.
"It was nothing sir," Blaise said quickly.
"Sir, he was maligning your good reputation," Malfoy said slyly.
Severus raised an eyebrow. He really didn't care what the students thought of him. However, these two are Slytherin, and if this could in any way endanger his reputation or position in Voldemort's inner circle, he needed to know. "Go on," he said.
"Zabini said that you are as virile as a eunuch, or you would have given that French slut what she was asking for," Malfoy responded, sending a hateful glare at Blaise.
"Touching though your defense of my masculinity is Mr Malfoy, I have no need of it." Severus sneered, his tone stating clearly that he did not care for Draco's tattling on another Slytherin. "Both of you get to breakfast before I decide to demonstrate my... vigour, by pounding some sense into you insolent heads," he warned in his most dangerous voice.
With genuine fear Blaise stuttered, "Y - yes Pro - Professor Snape."
"Certainly, sir," Malfoy drawled amiably.
Blaise ran in the direction of the Great Hall, with Malfoy sauntering along behind.
That evening Draco Malfoy decided he needed to talk about the morning's incident with his Head of House. He really didn't feel he deserved to lose 10 points. He intended to enter Professor Snape's office stealthily. He thought that he wouldn't be allowed entrance if he knocked. It was late, way past curfew, but he knew that Professor Snape almost never slept. Luckily in his six years of diligent spying on Professor Snape he had learned how to disable all of the Professor's frequently used wards, and he had kept up to date with all of Professor Snape's passwords. When he reached the office door it took him a little over an hour to figure out which wards his Professor was using today, and disable them. Then he whispered the password and slipped inside. His eyes were drawn to a new and startling addition to Professor Snape's office, a tartan couch. After a closer look he was shocked to the core by what he saw.
Professor Snape was lying on the eye sore of a couch wearing a grey night shirt, his back resting on some pillows placed on the arm of the couch. His arms were wrapped lovingly around Hermione, who was nestled between his legs wearing some wispy black chiffon concoction that must have been intended to be a nightgown. Her head was resting just under the Professor's chin. One of her hands was on his chest the other snuggled in under him. They were both sound asleep, and they were both smiling.
Draco Malfoy was beyond furious. He had never admitted his feelings. They would not be appropriate for his carefully cultivated image. However, his feelings were real and they were deep. They had only grown deeper with each passing day over the last six years. It was a young man suffering from an intense jealous rage that slipped unnoticed out of Professor Snape's office that evening. A young man determined to eliminate his rival.
Thursday
or
"oh, speak again bright angel!" (1)
Hermione awoke curled up with Severus on the tartan couch Minerva McGonagall had loaned them. She loved this time. The time when Severus was between sleep and wakefulness. During that brief time his guard was down. He was completely open, although, he was unaware of it. She had been watching this beautiful phenomena since the first morning they awoke in the same room at Grimmauld Place. Sometimes she would be lucky and he would mumble and reveal something of himself that he would normally hide behind his indifferent mask. One morning in the tent she was thrilled when his mumbling was about her. She discovered that he loved her horrible hair. In that wondrous state he had buried his hands in her hair and whispered that he loved long wildly curly hair. Before he drifted back to sleep he had added that he had never seen any he loved more then hers. Since that revelation she never missed watching him come to wakefulness.
If she had thought that morning in the tent had been a revelation, she was totally unprepared for this morning. "Hermione, my wife," he breathed, and his face was transformed with a contented smile.
She was taken aback as she studied his relaxed content expression. He seemed happy, and that expression came when he had tightened his hold on her and said, 'my wife'. She wanted more, she whispered, "Do I make you happy?" He didn't respond. "Talk to me Severus!" she implored.
"Mmm, uv-oo."
"Severus what!" she urged gently. His answer was totally garbled, but her hopeful guess made her really, really, want to know exactly what he had mumbled.
"Good morning," Severus' alert silky voice drawled just before he captured her lips with his for a morning kiss.
'Damn!' she thought. 'if only - ' She lost her train of thought as their kiss deepened with passion.
Friday
or
it was a long strange trip in the restricted section.
It was the just after midnight when Hermione awakened Severus with a brilliant idea. What would happen if they used a sample of Harry's own blood in the potion they were developing to enhance his magical power. They discussed and debated the possible effects for hours. In the pre-dawn they decided that they needed to check and see if anything like this had ever been attempted before. They both knew from experience that almost every new idea had already been thought of by someone else, and if you just looked long enough you would find it. As they didn't want to take any unnecessary chances with Harry's life they agreed that it would be prudent to discover if there were any records of a similar experiment.
The two made their way through the sleeping castle to the library and spent several hours scouring the Restricted Section. By this time they were tired and Severus was sitting on the floor holding Hermione in his lap as they each waded through tomb after tomb.
Suddenly they heard a noise. Madam Pince had come in, she was obviously a terribly early riser. She saw them and gaped. She seemed to not believe her eyes. While she was rubbing her eyes Severus quickly cast a Disillusionment Charm on both himself and Hermione.
When Madam Pince removed her hands from her eyes she squinted in the semi-darkness at the place where she thought she had seen Professor Snape with a woman in his lap. Upon seeing nothing she walked away muttering to herself about hallucinations.
When she was gone Severus and Hermione returned unobserved to Severus' office.
Saturday
or
welcome to Hogwarts, now go home!
Severus Snape sat at the High Table glowering at the student tables, and tuning out Albus' speech. The two exchange students had been chosen and the rest were going back to Beauxbatons after the feast, taking two Hogwarts students with them.
"Didn't Albus choose well?" Professor Flitwick asked Severus.
'As neither of the departing two Hogwart's students were either The-Boy-Who-Lived-In-Order-To-Drive-Me-Insane or his faithful sidekick Weasley, I'd say, No,' Severus thought. What he said was, "Um."
"My my Severus that's a nice ring. I've never known you to wear jewellery, is it a family piece?" Flitwick continued to try to converse with the surly Potions Master.
"What?" Severus looked at his hand. His wedding ring was gleaming in the candlelight. When he had cancelled the Disillusionment Charm he had cast to hide himself and Hermione from Madam Pince, neither of them had realised that it cancelled his earlier Disillusionment on their rings as well. "No, no, it's not," he replied icily. His tone effectively ending the conversation.
At the Gryffindor Table Hermione was having problems of her own.
"Hey Hermione," Ron said, "what's that on your wrist."
"Oh nothing." she answered trying to hide her wrist from view. Only Ron grabbed it for a closer look. "It looks like someone bit you," he joked.
"Let's see." Lavender took Hermione's wrist. "Ooo that looks like a binding scar."
"What's a binding scar?" Dean Thomas asked.
'Oh great, everyone jump in.' Hermione thought sarcastically, although she remained silent through it all.
Lavender explained, "When a witch and wizard get bound they get a scar like this as a physical reminder and a token from the magic in the ceremony. It's so romantic, you see if they use the really ancient ritual they bite each other - "
"Ew, gross." someone said.
"Most people use knives now," Lavender answered haughtily.
"What's bound?" a Muggle-born asked.
"It like married only it's deeper. It's a really old wizarding ceremony. It's so romantic, that's what I want when I get married," Lavender proclaimed.
Neville looked at Hermione's wrist. "That's a binding scar for sure. My Gran has one like it," he informed the group.
Only Harry noticed Hermione look up at Snape.
"Don't be stupid," Harry said. "Leave her alone."
Hermione snatched her wrist back and looked at Harry.
His green eyes bore into hers. When no one was paying them any attention she whispered, "How?"
"I know you. I've noticed a few things. Who were you just locking eyes with? Come on, I'd have to be daft not to have put it together," he answered.
"But - "
"And I've been watching the map since Sunday night."
"Oh my God, does anyone - "
"No, just me. Ron's great at chess and Quidditch but he's not so observant, you know?"
"Harry I - "
"Your wedding ring is showing."
"Oh no." Hermione stuffed her hand in her pocket.
"Why Hermione? Why?" Harry asked sadly. "You will tell me sometime won't you?"
"Of course Harry! I would have already but Dumbledore didn't want the announcement made with the Beauxbatons students here. We were told to tell no one. Tomorrow Severus and I are going to my parent's house for dinner to tell them. Will you talk with me after classes Monday? Then will you have dinner with us in our chambers."
"Sure we'll talk after classes, but - "
"Please Harry," she pleaded.
Harry looked into her eyes, "Yeah, sure. What are friends for?"
Footnote:
(1) William Shakespeare