Snape treated her exactly the same as before their late night meeting. So much so in fact, that she kept wondering if she'd made the whole thing up. But deep down she knew she hadn't, it had happened, Snape had levelled with her and it had been amazing. Even now she thought he might be being slightly less critical of her in their lessons together, although she couldn't be sure. He was a Death Eater. The fact that she wasn't overly horrified by that fact was rather unsettling. She still trusted him for some reason. Hermione desperately wanted to know why he had joined You-Know-Who in the first place, but she didn't have a death wish; Snape was acting as though that night never happened and so she would do the same, however much she didn't want to.

Going to see the house elves in the kitchens had been enlightening. Meeting Dobby, seeing his obvious happiness and affection for Harry, and Winky in her misery, how anyone could think they were lesser beings was beyond her. They so obviously had complex feelings and emotions and they deserved to be paid and respected and treated as equals! She was not giving up on S.P.E.W. It didn't matter what anyone else thought.

*The Hogwarts staff, demonstrating a continued desire to impress the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, seemed determined to show the castle at its best this Christmas. When the decorations went up, they were the most stunning she had yet seen inside the school. Everlasting icicles had been attached to the banisters of the marble staircase; the usual twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls, and the suits of armour had all been bewitched to sing carols whenever anyone passed them. It was quite something to hear "O Come, All Ye Faithful" sung by an empty helmet that only knew half the words. Several times, Filch the caretaker had to extract Peeves from inside the armour, where he had taken to hiding, filling in the gaps in the songs with lyrics of his own invention, all of which were very rude.*

Truth be told she hadn't been looking forward to the Yule Ball much at all until Victor Krum asked her. He'd just walked over to her table in the Library, introduced himself, as though he needed to, then asked her. At first she'd just stared at him, half wondering if he was talking to the person behind her. Then when she'd finally realised he really was actually asking her to go, with him, to the Yule Ball, well, she did what any self-respecting girl would do in the same situation. She turned bright red, stammered an acceptance, squealed a little once she was alone, then furiously started planning her outfit.

It was crazy, out of everyone in Hogwarts, and all those who came from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, Victor Krum, Triwizard Champion, Quidditch star, the boy she'd found strangely attractive from the first moment she saw him, had asked her to the ball. Oh it was good day.

*"Hermione, Neville's right - you are a girl..." Ron said as she walked into the Common Room.

"Oh well spotted," she said acidly.

"Well - you can come with one of us!"

"No, I can't," snapped Hermione.

"Oh come on," he said impatiently, "we need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any, everyone else has..."

"I can't come with you," she said, now blushing, "because I'm already going with someone."

"No, you're not!" said Ron. "You just said that to get rid of Neville!"

"Oh did I?" Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!"

Ron stared at her. Then he grinned again.

"Okay, okay, we know you're a girl," he said. "That do? Will you come now?"

"I've already told you!" She said very angrily. "I'm going with someone else!"*

And she stomped off to the girls dormitories feeling distinctly angry, until she remembered just who she was going to the Ball with. Victor Krum. Hermione dissolved into very uncharacteristic giggles.

She took her time getting ready on Christmas Day, she showered and moisturised and painted her nails, did her hair with a combination of magic and very expensive hair products and even applied a little make up before she slipped on her dress and heels and snuck off to meet Victor by the Durmstrang ship. He looked very handsome. At 8pm she walked over through the fairy-lit grotto to the front doors with the other Durmstrang students, herself and Victor leading the procession. He had told her she looked beautiful, and she almost believed him. She was certainly looking forward to seeing everyone's faces when they realised who the Quidditch star was with.

*Then Professor McGonagall's voice called, "Champions over here, please!"*

She and Victor made their way over. It wasn't until she was right next to Harry that he even realised who she was.

*"Hi, Harry!" she said. "Hi, Parvati!"

Parvati was gazing at her in unflattering disbelief. She wasn't the only one either; when the doors to the Great Hall opened, Krum's fan club from the library stalked past, throwing her looks of deepest loathing. Pansy Parkinson gaped at her as she walked by with Malfoy, and even he didn't seem to be able to find an insult to throw at her.* It was a wonderful feeling.

*Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs and to follow her. They did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as they entered. The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.*

It was amazing how easy it was to talk to Victor; he was lovely, modest and so intent on what she was saying, it was a proper, light conversation with just the right balance of give and take.

*"Veil, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking," he was telling her. "Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds larger even than these - though in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains -"

"Now, now, Viktor!" said Karkaroff with a laugh that didn't reach his cold eyes, "don't go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!"*

She felt a stab of dislike for Karkaroff that was rather stronger than she expected. Death Eater. She though viciously, then she remembered Snape and just felt confused.

*"Her-my-oh-nee," she said slowly and clearly, after he'd said her name wrong for the third time.

"Herm-own-ninny."

"Close enough," she said, catching Harry's eye and grinning.*

Dancing with Victor had been wonderful, he was so good at it. He whisked her around the floor, leading her with an ease that made her feel elegant too.

*"It's hot, isn't it?" she said to Harry and Ron, fanning herself with her hand. "Viktor's just gone to get some drinks."

Ron gave her a withering look. "Viktor?" he said. "Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?"

Hermione looked at him in surprise. "What's up with you?" she said.

"If you don't know," said Ron scathingly, "I'm not going to tell you."

She stared at him, then at Harry, who shrugged.

"Ron, what -?"

"He's from Durmstrang!" spat Ron. "He's competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You - you're -" Ron was obviously casting around for words strong enough to describe the crime, "fraternizing with the enemy, that's what you're doing!"

Her mouth fell open.

"Don't be so stupid!" she said after a moment. "The enemy! Honestly - who was the one who was all excited when they saw him arrive? Who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who's got a model of him up in their dormitory?"

Ron chose to ignore this. "I s'pose he asked you to come with him while you were both in the library?"

"Yes, he did," said Hermione, the pink patches on her cheeks glowing more brightly. "So what?"

"What happened - trying to get him to join spew, were you?"

"No, I wasn't! If you really want to know, he - he said he'd been coming up to the library every day to try and talk to me, but he hadn't been able to pluck up the courage!"

"Yeah, well - that's his story," said Ron nastily.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Obvious, isn't it? He's Karkaroff's student, isn't he? He knows who you hang around with...He's just trying to get closer to Harry - get inside information on him - or get near enough to jinx him -"

"For your information, he hasn't asked me one single thing about Harry, not one -"

Ron changed tack at the speed of light.

"Then he's hoping you'll help him find out what his egg means! I suppose you've been putting your heads together during those cosy little library sessions -"

"I'd never help him work out that egg!" said Hermione, outraged. "Never. How could you say something like that - I want Harry to win the tournament. Harry knows that, don't you, Harry?"

"You've got a funny way of showing it," sneered Ron.

"This whole tournament's supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them!" she said hotly.

"No it isn't!" shouted Ron. "It's about winning!"

People were starting to stare at them.

"Ron," said Harry quietly, "I haven't got a problem with Hermione coming with Krum -"

But Ron ignored Harry too.

"Why don't you go and find Vicky, he'll be wondering where you are," said Ron.

"Don't call him Vicky!"*

She stormed off through the crowd on the dance floor with no real thought as to where she was going. Ron could be such an arse. Tears stung in her eyes and she vaguely headed for a secluded corner in the hopes of getting herself under control once more in private. She had no such luck.

As she entered the shadows of the corner she'd been aiming for, she realised Professor Snape was standing there, blending in almost completely. Shit. She couldn't really turn back now, not without seeming extremely rude or afraid. She was neither. Hermione took a deep breath.

"Good evening Professor Snape, Merry Christmas."

His expression, which had been one of marginal surprise, immediately shifted into dislike. She felt a twinge of unease, but leant back against the wall about a metre away from him.

"Hiding, Miss Granger?"

She glanced over at him but his face was too bathed in shadows for her to decipher much of his expression.

"Maybe. Just for a couple of minutes sir." She answered cautiously.

"What an outstanding little Gryffindor you are." There was no mistaking the sneer in his voice. Were all males out to get her today? She quashed the feeling of disappointment that he obviously was in no mood to level with her again and spotted Victor walking across the dance floor looking for her. She walked away from Snape without another word. She was going to enjoy tonight with Victor and everyone else could go hang.

After another blazing row with Ron she stomped up to the dormitories cursing his very existence. She sat on her bed and quickly made up her mind. Victor had asked her to sneak back to the ship with him but she'd refused, knowing his intentions. But now, now she felt like it might be a bloody good idea, she didn't like sneaking around and breaking school rules, but on this occasion she found she didn't much care. So she cast the Disillusionment Charm on herself, which was now a hell of a lot better, and slipped down through the Common Room and out of the portrait hole.

Dumbledore and Snape were by the Entrance Hall. Crap. She was just about to turn around and go through another exit when she heard a snippet of their conversation; everyone else walking passed was so engrossed in themselves and their partners it seemed her Professors were conversing quite freely.

** "Well?" murmured Dumbledore.

"Karkaroff's Mark is becoming darker too. He is panicking, he fears retribution; you know how much help he gave the Ministry after the Dark Lord fell." Snape looked sideways at Dumbledore's crooked-nosed profile. "Karkaroff intends to flee if the Mark burns."

"Does he?" said Dumbledore softly, as Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies came giggling in from the grounds. "And are you tempted to join him?"

"No," said Snape, his black eyes on Fleur's and Roger's retreating figures. "I am not such a coward. **I will return to the Dark Lord, if that is what you wish."

**"You are a braver man by far than Igor Karkaroff." agreed Dumbledore. You know, I sometimes think we Sort too soon..."

He walked away, leaving Snape looking stricken...**

Hermione stood frozen in her place by the door, Victor Krum and his intentions now gone from her mind. Snape would return to You-Know-Who if Dumbledore wanted him to, and how could Dumbledore not want him to? Inside information would be too valuable. Snape's life would be in constant danger. How was he supposed to fool one of the most powerful wizards alive?

There were no more students around now but Snape was still stood by the entrance, looking as though his mind was working through something that was causing him a lot of pain. If she moved, he would notice her Disillusioned form. She stood motionless, but he noticed her anyway. She felt his counter-charm trickle over her. His eyes widened in surprise but then quickly narrowed in anger.

"And just what do you think you're doing Miss Granger?" He asked her coolly.

"Umm…" She had no answer. Telling him she was going to sneak out of the castle was suicide. "I just had an argument with Ron and – er – I wanted to go for a walk before I went to bed." Her excuse was flimsy.

"30 points from Gryffindor, you seem to have developed a habit for wondering around the school out of hours under an exceptionally pathetic attempt at a Disillusionment Charm. Tell me, is it your continuing association with Potter that makes you feel as though you are above the rules, or is it the new … friend you've made in Victor Krum that gives you such a sense of superiority? I can't help but wonder why you attach yourself to such people when they clearly find you every bit as insufferable as I do, is it another way you can make yourself feel more important than your fellows? Quoting textbooks and hanging around with high-profile men. What a cut above the rest you are."

She was pleased that he'd mentioned the last time he caught her Disillusioned, however indirectly, because there was absolute proof that it really had happened. Then his words caught up with her brain and after all that happened she felt tears in her eyes again, but she would not cry in front her Professor. She would not give him the satisfaction.

"When you return to You-Know-Who, you'll be careful, won't you?" She asked him thickly.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six…

He said nothing so she quickly glanced up at his face. He looked stricken again. She began to walk back towards Gryffindor Tower and smiled to herself a little, despite her tired, angry, frustrated tears. She'd shocked him so much she'd been able to leave his presence without being dismissed and he hadn't even called her back to berate her more.

Chapter 10! Time flies...

*Text in between one asterisk* from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Thanks Amarenima Redwood ;) )

**Text in between two asterisks** from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. As always, all credit to J.K Rowling.