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Chapter 16

A Forbidden Attraction

The first week of classes went relatively well, and Hermione paid extra attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts. She would be reporting to Dumbledore regularly on Karkaroff's behaviour during classes. While this was all Dumbledore had really asked of her, she was determined to drudge up more information about the DADA teacher one way or another. It was quite possible that he had not joined Voldemort yet and that there was no reason to worry, but he remained a suspicious character in her book.

In that first class, which contained students from all four houses due to a unique scheduling arrangement, Igor Karkaroff had done his best to win over the students. He was attempting currently to entrance the class with tales of conquering beasts and tricking magical beings found in Slavic lore. It did work, Hermione noted, and most of the girls in the class were wide-eyed and attentive.

Like Lockhart had, Karkaroff had an ability to be charming when he recounted his adventures (which might have been similarly invented). While Hermione remembered the man as being somewhat slimy and disingenuous, he was clearly a better actor in his youth. He was tall, with piercing blue eyes, dark hair, and an attractive hint of stubble in his face. He was in his mid-30s now, she would have guessed by looking at him. Close to the age the Professor Snape she left in 1997 was.

Unbiddenly, her mind wandered to the idea that Karkaroff was similar in looks to Snape. She had to keep herself from shuddering violently with disgust once that thought hit.

Perhaps a small resemblance could be true, she forced herself to concede objectively. There was even a darkness they each held in their mannerisms and nature. Karkaroff was the dark magician now, playing a deceitful slight of hand to hide his true nature. He appeared sly now, and she could see how the other young women might find that interesting.

Severus, however…

He was the dark enigma. He was the darkness of the night sky, of the void surrounding the planets. He held the darkness of water at night, with unknown fathoms held beneath the depths. His darkness was not necessarily sadistic or abhorrent, at least not the darkness of the man she knew. No, Severus Snape had a darkness that was mystery, which could reveal almost any answer to Hermione. Mystery could be dark, fearsome, powerful, intoxicating, threatening, yet deeply satisfying all at once. Yes, that was the difference in the two men. Whatever their apparent surface similarities, the darkness was markedly distinct.

Hermione realized she had become as glassy eyed as the other female students, though she was thinking of someone else entirely.

"…the Firebird! And I was able to get this!" Karkaroff pulled something quickly out of the inner pocket of his cloak and Hermione heard gasps from a few students. She craned her neck to see him holding out a large feather in his hand.

The feather had the colors of fire, just as the name Firebird implied. Most of the feather was a yellowish-gold color that shone and glimmered in the light. Similarly to a peacock feather, this one ended in a rounded palm frond with the shape of an eye in the center of the frond. The outer ring of the eye was a deep orange, while the inner circle was a vibrant, blood-like red.

"Is the legend about the Firebird true?" Someone called out.

"Da!" Professor Karkaroff nearly shouted. His eyes gleamed and he held a haughty, self-satisfied look to his face. "Nox." He incanted.

The room immediately became dark.

After a moment's silence, there was a bright flash of light which slowly eased into a warm glow. Professor Karkaroff was visible holding the Firebird feather above his head, lighting up the entire room with its shining colors.

The classroom exploded with 'oohs', cheers, and clapping as Karkaroff's face glowed in triumph. Hermione did her best to keep her face straight but suspected it was something like a grimace. She raised her hand, sighing.

Grinning madly at the attention, Karkaroff called on her. "It's not just a phoenix?" She asked. "The Firebird, I mean?" The room grew quieter and she heard a few murmurs of agreement.

Karkaroff's grin turned into an icily polite smile. "No, the Firebird is far rarer than the phoenix. It only reveals itself every few centuries to bestow its blessing on the worthiest. I carry the feather on my person always to show my gratitude."

"I thought it was also cursed," said a quiet voice in the back of the room. This had come from Calliope, who had also been listening attentively.

"Supposedly." Karkaroff smirked and shrugged nonchalantly. "There have been so few to even encounter such a creature. Even muggles know of the stories, which they can easily misinterpret without magic."

"My gran told me death follows it," a Hufflepuff girl chimed in.

"Yes, that's right," Mateo Reinero answered. "A blessing of protection, yet a harbinger of death. It curses despite its protection because… well, what good is being safe from harm if those around you aren't?"

"Whatever," a Slytherin with blonde hair interjected, waving her hand dismissively. "Does it do anything? The feather, that is?"

"A catalyst." Heads swiveled to the back of the room and Hermione's spine tingled, recognizing the low voice from anywhere despite lacking the additional gravel of age. "A catalyst for spells and potions."

"Very good, Mr… Snape, is it?" Karkaroff nodded. "The Firebird's feather acts as a catalyst which may be used in many potions to speed up reaction time. It is quite possible that the number of uses is infinite. More research must be done." Karkaroff finally stowed the feather back in his inner robe pocket. "Now! For defensive and protective tactics, as you all are not so fortunate to have a blessed protection as I do…"

After classes that afternoon, Hermione went straight to her room before dinner to update her journal.

Hermione kept meticulous notes in the leatherbound journal that she had received from the Room of Requirement what felt like such a long time ago. It had only been a year since her first Order mission (a little less in fact, after having skipped over the summer months when going back in time) but it felt like a lifetime ago that Hermione had gone on the journey. It was the first time she had seen a different side to Severus Snape; the first time she had even thought of him as anything other than her surly Professor.

She documented everything, keeping a mixture of an index and a diary. Otherwise, it might be hard to keep her stories straight. The notes on the Firebird feather would go in as well, for it pertained to Karkaroff, not only to classwork.

She reached into her beaded bag to get an extra bottle of ink and pulled when she felt a clink.

It was not ink. It was the antivenin.

That's right. Hermione frowned. Dumbledore had insisted she take the two vials with her on her journey back in time. I'm still sure at least one of these is meant to go to Mr. Weasley at St. Mungo's.

She nearly laughed at her next thought. Maybe it simply makes more sense to do all the time travelling at once? Don't stop back in the present for a pit stop, just keep going up through the years and deliver these as planned.

After checking that the vials still had the permanent freezing charm on them to keep them stable, she placed them gently back in her purple beaded bag and continued her notetaking.

As September neared its end, Hermione was slowly getting used to attending seventh-year N.E.W.T classes that took place twenty years before her present reality. She had become adept at figuring out just the right number of times to raise her hand to answer a question to participate without drawing undue notice, and she never added on ridiculous numbers of inches to her essays.

On her birthday, she discovered that she was nearly a full year older than her birthdate should have made her. She thought about it, and admitted it was quite possible that using the Time-Turner had gotten ahead of her.

About a month into her third year at Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall had pulled her into the Head of House's office, given her a cup of tea, and strictly told her to use the Time-Turner she had more often.

"Bu- but Professor," Hermione had protested. "I intend to abide by the contract I signed-"

"No, Miss Granger, I insist." Professor McGonagall looked at her sternly. "You are taking three additional courses with class time, study time, and homework time combined. You have also expressed a desire to take the advanced track of both Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, which will each require an extra hour of class each week and additional paper writing. If you don't start using the Time-Turner more often, it'll be 24 hours or more for you between sleeping periods, and we can't have that."

"But… but I can't be seen. Not in two places at once. I mean, I would probably understand if I saw myself, but if anyone else did…"

"What do you need, Miss Granger? You need to be using the Time-Turner more often in order to keep sane and healthy, and… I am determined to make this work for you." Minerva McGonagall met her eyes with a fiercely kind look. I will help you whatever you say, so you must allow me to.

"I… I'd need somewhere else to sleep. An extra place so there could be two of me sleeping at a time, if need be."

McGonagall nodded and called out, "Fissy!"

A house elf cracked into the room. "Please show Miss Granger to the private guest room across from my chamber." She turned back to Hermione. "I know I do not need to mention to amount of trust you have been granted."

"No! Not at all, Ma'am. I won't disappoint."

Hermione Granger used the guest quarters for the rest of the year, though less often after Easter when she had dropped Divination. She did take advantage of the order to use the Time-Turner more often, and it was all done for schoolwork purposes. Reading and re-reading the course materials, adding additional inches to each essay, even checking out the books mentioned in the textbook's footnotes to peruse alongside the primary materials.

More times than she could count, she found herself falling asleep reading on the guest quarters' couch. She would wake up the next morning to immediately check the time, turn back the hourglass, step past her snoring self on the couch and sleep further on the bed before waking up refreshed. Sometimes there were three or four sleeping Hermione Grangers and one still up late working.

It explained why she was only a month or two from being 19 now, instead of 18.

Her date of birth passed unacknowledged. Hermione was not upset; she hadn't told any of her new friends, and she hadn't wanted the attention. She was preoccupied with the social aspects of her life.

First, she had been growing closer to Lily and the other girls. Ellie had begun to open up a little bit about her fear of failure (to which Hermione could easily relate), Marina was very silly and had shared many anecdotes of the last six years at Hogwarts, and Callie was reserved and stern as ever, but she was the only one Hermione could discuss arithmantic theory with. Hermione was still trying to crack the hard shell that was Lily Evans, but they had bonded a little over their experiences growing up in the muggle world.

Plus, there was still Severus.

Hermione and the young Severus Snape had started to dance around each other. There was not much talking involved, nor truly much actual interaction, but the glances back and forth were there. Hermione couldn't help but blush when looking at him. Even if she hid a small, contented smile from him when their eyes met, once she would look away, the smile would involuntarily appear on her face as if she was hiding her own precious secret.

She was. The secret was how wonderful she thought the future version of him would turn out to be, even if it was an idiotic idea to tell him that now.

It was. It was beyond idiotic to flirt with him, to fancy him, even to treat him kindly when Lily Evans hated the very sight of him, but Hermione found herself behaving like an idiot quite often.

At the first Slug Club gathering of the year, she had idiotically met his eyes more than once from across the room until he had smirked, raised an eyebrow, and lifted his cup of pumpkin juice to her before bringing it to his lips. Unfortunately, she had been standing in a group and the motion was noticed.

"Keen on the Slytherins, are you Anna?" Arabella leaned in to speak to her, having seen the gesture. "Most of them are too dreary and serious for my taste, but perhaps Snape is hiding some fire. I understand the attraction to the bad boys." Hermione bit her lip to keep in a retort, but blushed furiously despite herself.

"Snape?" Lily was standing a few feet away and had heard the end of the conversation. She turned her head, frowning, trying to figure out what Hermione and Arabella had been saying, but the arrival of Professor Slughorn distracted her.

"Ah, what a promising group of young ladies! All Gryffindors in this friend group, I see- oh. Oh, I am sorry Miss Dalton, I didn't see you there. Still playing Quidditch? Good, good. And how is your Uncle, Miss Cook?"

"He's heading up the research department at St. Mungo's, Professor. Working on spell damage, I believe." Arabella replied politely.

"Splendid, splendid! I'm sure you'll follow after the rest of your family. Maybe even marry a Smethwyck or a Pye, eh? Oh, too soon, too soon. You're young yet, I apologize. Oh, but perhaps I can play matchmaker in a different way? Reinero! McLaggen! Snape!"

Slughorn turned and gestured to a few different areas of the room to pull the men into the ladies' group. Lily bristled and she straightened as the ones who were called bustled over. Hermione had gagged on the drink she was holding and nearly choked when she had heard the name McLaggen. Marlene began whacking her roughly on the back and Ellie looked on concerned as Hermione breathlessly waved her off. Slughorn was too focused on the arrival of the others to the conversation group and didn't notice.

"Why, here we have a whole number of Quidditch players, don't we? Miss Dalton and Mr. Reinero are for Ravenclaw, and Miss McKinnon, Mr. McLaggen, and, yes, Mr. Snape, aren't you all beaters for your houses?"

Slughorn was apparently trying to match students up merely because they played the same position on rival teams. Hermione hadn't realized Severus had made the Quidditch team yet, but she had hardly paid any attention to tryout announcements. She thought he almost looked like his older self as he listened to Slughorn talk. He was standing stock still, holding a drink in his hand and looking somewhat bored. His dark eyes scanned the group and fell on her for a moment longer than the others before moving back to Slughorn.

"Keepers, actually, sir." The one he called McLaggen answered. He was tall, blond, and burly with a roguish grin. He turned to Hermione and held out his hand. "I don't believe we've met. Tiberius McLaggen. I'm the Keeper for Hufflepuff, as the Professor mentioned."

"This is Miss Perri," Slughorn answered for her as she opened her mouth. She closed it and smiled thinly at McLaggen, some of her frustration at being spoken for seeping through. Nevertheless, she held out her hand and shook his quickly before dropping it. She chanced a quick glance at Severus out of the corner of her eye and she saw his tiny tick at the corner of his mouth. Amused, but trying to hide it, she thought.

Hermione had missed some of what Slughorn was saying before she tuned back in. "…but I don't believe I know any Perri in my acquaintance. I admit, I am not acquainted with the foreign wizarding communities as much as the British ones, which is why the exchange students are all here tonight! Tell me, Miss Perri, do you have any inventors in your family like the McLaggens do?"

There was a slight pause as the heads in the group all swiveled towards her. She sensed, however, that the students throughout the room were listening, not only the ones standing around Slughorn. There was an imperceptible breath being held.

"I… I can't say, Professor." She said quietly.

"Oh, I… I don't mean to pry, I don't quite hold to blood purities, but it's no shame if you're the first witch in your family-"

"NO! No, I'm a half-blood Professor," she said, a little too emphatically. Come on, Hermione!

"Oh yes, yes, of course." Slughorn was trying to be genial and friendly, but he really was only interested in collecting contacts, and clearly wanted to know if she had any famous people at her disposal. "So, your mother is the witch then? Would I know…"

Fucking shit, she thought worriedly.

"Granger." Hermione said, her mask of politeness completely fragile at this point. "My mother's maiden name is Granger." I've basically just switched the surnames of my parents. Ironic.

She glanced around the group and the room and realized the intake of breath had been from some Slytherins and other purebloods. I'm either a target as a mudblood or an ally as a pureblood. I suppose I have to solidify the identity as a half-blood then.

"Are you related to Hector Dagworth-Granger? The famous Potioneer?" This question came from Arabella, who sounded impressed. "He developed a lot of the newer antidote formulas used in healing magic," she explained to Marlene, who nodded in understanding.

"Distantly, yes." Hermione said, resigned to give herself some pureblood credentials in the only way she knew how.

Slughorn made a noise of approval and Severus looked interested. After a few brief remarks on her famous background, along with insistences that he really was quite distant of a relation, the surrounding group appeared to lose interest.

As quickly as the tension had rippled around the room, it dissipated again. Tiberius McLaggen focused on speaking to Arabella and Lily, Mateo Reinero had wandered over to a dark-haired Hufflepuff transfer student, and Marlene had found James Potter on the other side of the room and they appeared to be discussing Quidditch.

"Well, well, Miss Perri. It seems there's a bright future for you!" Slughorn proclaimed, belly shaking with his chuckles. "Do you have any ambitions? Aspirations? I know you don't play sport like the others, but perhaps you have an idea of going into Potions like your relatives?"

Hermione realized it was only Snape, Slughorn, and herself in the conversation group now and no one cared to listen. How can I possibly make him forget about me now? Think, Hermione, think.

It came to her, and Hermione smiled at Slughorn almost wickedly.

"Actually, Professor," she replied demurely, "I don't have any great ambitions at all apart from starting a family. My greatest aspiration is to be a wife and a mother, perhaps a career later. I doubt you'll hear about me at all for at least… oh, the next twenty years."

She smiled sweetly at him as the Professor sputtered in embarrassed shock, too polite to tell her to think of something else to do with her youth. He waved a hasty retreat and bumbled away just as Hermione turned to see Severus break into laughter.

Hermione was surprised to see him laughing, but she soon snorted and joined in. It was wonderful to see him actually in full laughter, something she had wanted for ages. They were starting to get a few odd looks just as they wound down.

Severus tried to school his expression back to the bored, indifferent face, but his mouth held a slight uptick now and his eyes were dark with amusement. She grinned broadly up at him.

"You would make a poor Slytherin, Perri," he said in a low tone. "He's only trying to help you gain status and glory for yourself. I thought Gryffindors cared about that too."

"Pfft," Hermione waved her hand annoyedly. "He only cares about status for himself by collecting contacts. He won't collect me, thank you very much."

"Yes," Severus drawled. "I'm afraid you are completely uninteresting to him now. He probably won't invite you to any more of these events. You may rest assured that your lie did the trick." He smirked at her, and his eyes shone playfully.

"It's a shame that he thinks that." Hermione said thoughtfully. "It's every woman's right to choose her path, even if it's marrying young and having children right away. It shouldn't make that choice any less worthy."

Hermione couldn't help but think of Lily's future then, determined that Lily Evans Potter should get her brief happily ever after, even if she was still destined to be murdered by Lord Voldemort. She quickly shook the thought away, not wanting to dwell on her new friend's early demise.

"Besides," Hermione smiled coyly at Severus, "how do you know I wasn't telling the truth? I could very well want marriage and babies directly on the horizon. Why, I could be on the prowl."

Severus smirked at her. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, dark hair swinging forward over his shoulders.

"That would hardly make you less interesting to me, Perri." He purred in her ear.

Severus straightened back up and appeared positively feral as he looked down at her. Hermione was blushing furiously, but her eyes were shining up at him.

She found herself openly staring at him for a few brief seconds that felt like eternity. She was being pulled into the dark mystery, the crashing waves in the dark water, the intensity and the power.

"Oy, Perri!" Hermione jolted and noticed a malignant sneer come across Snape's face as she turned her head to see who it was. She blanched as she saw three of the Marauders making their way toward her. Pettigrew was not important enough to be invited to a Slug Club meeting, apparently.

"We've come over to fetch you, Perri," James said genially as Hermione lowered her eyes. She had trouble meeting James' gaze whenever he was around. He really did look like a slightly-taller, louder version of Harry. "Evans wanted a word."

"And clearly, you're in need of rescuing," Sirius chimed in, stepping closer to her and looking at Snape suspiciously.

Hermione bristled as she felt Sirius step closer. Though she would have enjoyed his company in other circumstances, he did make her feel uncomfortable in this time. He was always flirting, which felt strange considering the relationship they had shared in the future, and it bothered her that he stepped it up when Snape was around. She chanced a glance back at Severus and he looked livid.

"Anna, I heard you were related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, is that true?" Remus was trying to politely change the subject, it seemed.

Hermione nodded, looking down still, her throat growing drier. It seems like it was impossible to avoid this lot if she was a Gryffindor and ever looked in Snape's direction.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure Remus knows. Will know, I mean.

"Well then, Perri," Snape sneered, "I won't keep you from your… friends." He nodded sharply before turning and slowly walking away.

Hermione meekly followed the boys over to Lily, Arabella, and Ellie. They were whispering together as she approached.

As she arrived, she turned and glanced over to see Severus, but she couldn't find him. He appeared to have left the room.

The next evening, the girls' study group was in the library. It was a rare night without Ravenclaw Quidditch practice or prefect rounds, so the entire group was there when Hermione arrived. As she walked up to the table, she noticed that they eerily fell silent, and all turned to look at her.

"What?" She said, as she placed her bag down on the table. She reached in to get a few books, quill, ink, and parchment, but still found the girls silent. Elpida and Marina were both avoiding her gaze, Calliope was hiding behind her Charms book, clearly pretending to read, and Lily was… staring right at her.

"Anna," Lily said. "We need to talk."

"Okay," Hermione said. "What about?"

"About Snape. You can't keep looking at him and talking to him like you have been. Arabella told me it's different in Italy, people are friendlier, it's a different culture… Anyway, I'm telling you that you can't keep talking to him like that. People will get the wrong idea." Lily's green eyes flashed dangerously.

Hermione almost snorted and rolled her eyes. Lily was similar to Harry; intelligent, but lacking subtlety.

"What idea?" Hermione said casually, opening her Transfiguration book.

"That you… well, that you fancy him or something."

"Oh, I do fancy him," Hermione replied, not looking up from the page she had turned to. Despite her casual manner, she found herself blushing. More out of satisfaction than embarrassment, she realized. This was the first she was even able to admit the thought aloud, since Severus was her peer now and not her Professor.

This admission broke the silence around the table and a chorus of reactions came forth, causing Hermione to finally look up.

"Oh wow," Marina said, eyes wide.

"He is rather witty," Ellie nodded and smiled.

"I see," Callie said quietly as she lowered her book and stared quizzically at her.

Lily was silently fuming. Hermione saw her breathe slowly a few times to calm herself before responding.

"How can you like him, Anna? He's a Death Eater, he has to be! He's friends with Mulciber and Avery and Rosier and… and even that troll Wilkes is hanging around him now! Would you fancy or even be friends with someone who wanted me and my family dead?" Yes, Lily had a temper too, and Hermione was very much reminded of Harry.

Callie put her hand on Lily's arm and shushed her as her voice began to grow louder. They were still in the library, after all.

"Well," Hermione said slowly, "you're right. I don't know very much about him. I don't know if he ascribes to those beliefs, and I wouldn't approve if he did. My father's a muggle, and he has been pretty nice to me so far, but maybe that's only…" She gulped, realizing she had no idea about a young Snape's motivations. "…Maybe that's only the debt he owes me." She looked slightly crestfallen at the thought, despite herself.

Hiding her feelings and opinions was never something she was particularly good at.

"Oh, Annie," Ellie cried out, noticing Hermione's distress. "Don't be upset, you'll find someone!" Hermione was a bit startled, as Elpida wasn't typically so heartfelt or affectionate to her. She returned a half-smile to the blonde-haired girl.

"Oh absolutely!" Marina exclaimed. "There are loads better options than Snape. Why I know even-"

"Shhh! Please, I do not want Madam Pince kicking us out again!" Callie hissed.

"They're right, Anna." Lily said calmly. "There are a lot of better options than Snape." Lily looked up at her, green eyes meeting hers. After a long moment's stare, Lily's eyes drifted down to the parchment in front of her. "We can find you another person to fancy," she said nonchalantly.

The alpha in the group having spoken, the other girls looked away and returned to their studying.

Hermione looked back down at her book, but found it hard to concentrate. Her eyes were stinging and she knew she was close to tears, having finally found the thing that could break apart her new-found friend group. It was also the thing that could compromise the mission to protect Lily, as Hermione would no longer be able to get close to her if she was ostracized.

It was also the thing that Hermione felt powerless to fight.

This is why I don't have any girlfriends, she thought bitterly. All gossip and jealousy and no evidence.

Hermione recalled then that Callie had challenged Lily before about the Slytherin's Death Eater associations due to lack of evidence. She glanced up at the dark-haired girl with the thickly-rimmed frames, hoping to catch an indication of solidarity, but finding none.

Maybe I can speak to her alone another time, she thought.

After a very successful Potions class in which Slughorn had called her both Miss Peregrine and Miss Perikles, Hermione exited to a throng of students filling the hallway. So elated was she about Slughorn forgetting Miss Anna Perri, that she didn't even notice when Severus Snape slipped up beside her in the corridor.

"Perri." He gestured her over to walk with him. Hermione craned her neck to see over the students in front of her, but the girls in her study group had all dispersed in the flow of students in the corridor and didn't appear to notice her.

"Snape." She said, trying her best for an indifferent affect.

"I think I have figured out a way to repay you."

"Oh? What is that?"

"Walk with me."

They continued walking until they came along a part of the corridors where there were no students or teachers, all having fled to enjoy the fresh air in the mid-afternoon before dinner. Hermione's heart sped up a few beats when she saw there was no one to disturb them. Despite herself, she thought of the few delicious interactions she had had with Professor Snape in empty corridors or classrooms.

"Yes, well?" She said, trying to disguise her flustered, out-of-breath demeanor for impatience.

"I should like to help you," he said lightly. "I think you may be in need of my… services."

Hermione flushed immediately, her mind immediately going to services which he better not be talking about. "What?" She nearly stammered.

Snape lost none of his cool affect. "You're no spring chicken, Perri. As much as you try to fool the others into thinking you're a shy, meek transfer student, I can see that you aren't."

She glared at him, still bright red and actually irritated now. "I'm not trying to fool anyone."

"No?" His upper lip curled in amusement as one eyebrow twitched. "You don't appear to be lacking in so-called Gryffindor bravery, yet you are completely cowed and sometimes even turn tail and run whenever you see Potter and his gang of buffoons." He frowned in thought. "Apart from Pettigrew. You don't appear to be afraid of that… rat."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "I'm not afraid of any of them."

"Yet you run."

"I wouldn't say that. Let's say… walk away swiftly." She said, slowly cracking a small smile.

He smirked and her heart did a little backflip in her chest. That look.

"If you aren't already aware of it… the Marauders," he sneered "and I… do not get along."

She snorted. "That's putting it mildly, Snape."

He inclined his head in agreement. "I suspect you simply dislike them and are merely pretending to be absurdly timid as an excuse to avoid them; yet I can hardly fault a working strategy." His dark eyes gazed down at her. "Therefore, I offer you my services. If you wish for Potter and Black and the rest to leave you be, then the fastest way to ensure this is…" He paused briefly. "... to spend as much time with me as possible." The last part of the sentence was said a little faster than the beginning, and Severus' eyes had widened. She noticed his hands twitching at his sides as he waited for her response.

"Hmmm. Let me think." She playfully raised her finger to her face and pursed her lips in mock contemplation, though she couldn't help the escaping grin.

Severus appeared satisfied at the gesture, his hands now resting calmly. His face took on a smirking, smoldering look.

Hermione blushed as she looked up at him and decided that flirting like an idiot was the most thrilling thing in the world.

"Come now, Perri," he said bemusedly, moving closer to her. "Don't think you aren't getting anything out of the bargain. No matter how dull I am, it must be better than hearing Black drone on about himself."

"You aren't dull!" She gasped, quickly turning it into a laugh as she playfully nudged his arm. She noticed that he flinched at the touch, and she quickly withdrew.

"No," she corrected soberly, "much of my reluctance is that you are quite interesting, and I've already been warned off."

"Oh? And why is that?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but the reply would no longer have been lighthearted. She opted not to answer and closed her mouth. God, Severus, why did you have to be a Death Eater in this time? You are already, aren't you?

Slowly, the silence thickened the air between them. The smiles faded, and they simply stared at each other tensely.

"I think you know why." She said quietly, looking away. Her face surely showed some of the pain she felt. "Your… politics are distasteful."

Severus was quiet then. She chanced a glance up at him and saw his mouth was flat, but his hands twitched slightly, and his eyes stilled in thought.

"Then… perhaps we shall discuss our political inclinations… in our first meeting. You may ask any questions you like and get clarification." He met her eyes, and she noted some vulnerability within them. That had been a question.

"That sounds acceptable, Mr. Snape," Hermione responded politely. "However, you should know that you have me pegged correctly. I am no spring chicken, I am not afraid, and I will not hesitate to tell you my true opinions on any subject matter," she said firmly, raising her eyebrows pointedly.

"Then, Miss Perri, I shall be all ears."