Stage one. Be casual. Don't let him know you have ulterior motives. That was easier said than done: Hermione had the feeling that Severus Snape spotted ulterior motives as easily as other people spotted that the sun was shining. She could just imagine what his reaction would be if he did. Of all the things Severus Snape does exceptionally well, accepting sympathy or help are not two of them.

She knocked on his door. When he let her in, she strolled as nonchalantly as she could into his sitting room.

"I need to borrow the Invisibility Cloak," she said.

Snape was at his desk. He looked up and raised his eyebrows. "And return it when, precisely?" he asked.

"As soon as I think it's too late for our Tempestuous Trio to sneak out and try and find the Key. I want to keep an eye on them."

"While I remain trapped here," Snape said sourly. "Doing your marking."

"In durance vile," Hermione agreed cheerfully. "Unless you'd like to come with me? The cloak is big enough for three teenagers, I'm sure it would cover both of us."

He cast a jaundiced look at the pile of scrolls in front of him. "And when do you suggest I complete all these helpful remarks?"

"We'll do them together, later," Hermione said. She grinned at him. "That way I can help you when you get stuck trying to say something remotely encouraging."

Snape snorted derisively, but he rose to his feet, and Hermione was almost certain she saw the corner of his mouth turn up. "I will use the cloak," he said. "You have every reason to lurk about the corridors at night."

"Yes, but I don't want them to spot me and go back to bed," Hermione pointed out.

Snape sighed. He took the Invisibility Cloak from a drawer in his desk. "You may share the Cloak when we reach a suitable vantage point. I have no intention of stumbling through Hogwarts in an approximation of a three-legged race."

"Do wizards have those?"

Snape flung the Cloak around himself and vanished. Invisible, his deep voice sounded even more sepulchral. "As difficult as it may be for you to imagine, Granger, some aspects of my childhood resembled some aspects of yours."

The Half Blood Prince. Of course. Although it was difficult to imagine Severus Snape as a child, he had been one, and one in the Muggle world. "How about egg and spoon, then?"

"Not an event at which I excelled."

The mental image made her grin. "Me neither. I was banned from the M.S. Readathon, though."

She could only just hear his footsteps, following her down the short hallway to the dungeon corridor. "Banned from reading? It must have been agony for you."

"Not from reading." Hermione opened the door, leaned out to check there was no-one nearby, and stepped through. "It's a fundraiser, for an illness called Multiple Sclerosis. Kids go around and get people to commit to giving them money for every book they read in a month. Like, if someone says they'll give you a galleon — it would be a pound, of course — for every book, if you read three books, they give you three pounds — galleons. If you read four —"

"I am familiar with the basic principles of multiplication," Snape said acidly as they reached the corner and turned left towards the Hufflepuff dormitory.

"Well, the first year I did it, all the teachers at school sponsored me a pound a book. It was sort of standard — they wanted to encourage students to read."

"Again, a concept I am familiar with," Snape said. "Is there a point to this meandering narrative?"

"I read one hundred and fourteen books," Hermione said, still feeling a flash of pride, all these years later. "The next year, they sponsored me one pence a book, so I camped out in my parents' waiting room and got their clients to sponsor me. That year, I read one hundred and thirty five books. There were a lot of complaints to the school, and after that, I wasn't allowed to do it."

"You were banned from participating in an activity purely because you excelled at it?"

Hermione nodded. "Unfair, right?"

"I was simply imagining how preferable it would have been to apply similar standards to Potter when it came to Quidditch." Snape paused. "This seems appropriate?"

Hermione peered down the corridor. The door to the Hufflepuff dormitory was clearly visible. "Yes, this'll do."

The next moment the gauzy Invisibility Cloak settled around her. It was a familiar feeling for all the years since she'd hidden under it with Harry and Ron, as the rest of the world took on a slightly hazy appearance.

What was not at all familiar was sharing the Cloak with Severus Snape, who was most definitely taller and more solid than either Harry or Ron had been when they'd used the cloak to sneak out to see Hagrid or follow Draco Malfoy. Hermione had to stand quite close to him to keep her feet hidden, close enough to feel the warmth of his body through the thick fabric of his jacket, close enough for his breath to stir her hair.

She was suddenly acutely aware of him, not as a problem to be solved, or as a cause to be defended, but as another person, unique, irreplaceable, a miracle of blood and bone — and sarcasm and savage humour and startling moments of self-mockery — a person who pushed himself to exhaustion to take a curse from her, who had hidden himself in obscurity rather than contest for his place in history —

Who was standing with her, in a dungeon corridor in the dead of night, watching for first-year students setting out on her ridiculous invented quest because she had asked him, and because Hogwarts students couldn't be allowed to come to harm.

"I apologise for the proximity," Snape murmured. With her shoulder jammed against his chest, Hermione could feel his voice as easily as she could hear it. "This Cloak may be large enough for three adolescents, but it strains to contain two adults."

"I'm alright," she whispered. "If you are."

He snorted softly. "Hardly the most discomfort or inconvenience you, Potter or Weasley have put me to."

"I could set you on fire if that would make this more familiar?" Hermione offered.

"Thank you, I'll decline the offer." She couldn't see Snape's face without craning her neck, but surely that was a hint of amusement in his voice? "Besides, that was only once." He paused. "Or so you assure me."

"It was." She frowned. "Have you been set on fire other times? Because they definitely weren't me."

"Granger, this is a Cloak of Invisibility, not a Cloak of Inaudibility," Snape said.

"Right, sorry."

They stood in silence for a while, but the door to the Hufflepuff dormitory stayed closed.

Hermione sighed. "They probably won't try tonight, I guess."

"I doubt they've even found the clue, let alone deciphered it," Snape said.

"Where did you hide it?"

"Chapter thirty-seven of Harold Hightower's History of Magical Artifacts."

"Oh, Severus, they'll never find it. Even I struggled to get through that book."

"You suggested challenges that test them, did you not?"

Hermione grinned. "Boredom is a test?"

"A test they will have to overcome many times in their lives. Now is a good time to learn." Snape sounded severe. Hermione wished she could see whether or not there was a glint of humour in his eyes.

She found the edge of the cloak and slipped out from under it. "I think I might have to take Harry up on his offer to drop a subtle hint when they can hear it."

"Potter? Subtle?"

"He was almost sorted into Slytherin, you know," Hermione pointed out. She started back towards Snape's rooms. "So it can't be beyond him, can it?"

Snape snorted quietly. "Another example of the Hat's inherent unreliability." They reached the door, and he stretched a hand from beneath the Invisibility Cloak to open it.

Hermione followed him inside. "Do you want to give me half those essays?" she asked.

Snape removed the cloak in one swift gesture. He shrugged. "They are hardly demanding, Granger. Surely there are better uses of your time?"

Hermione slipped her wand from her sleeve and transfigured his coffee table into chair for herself. Setting it on the other side of his desk, she sat down. "Well, then, I'll check the ones you've done."

Snape gave her a cold look. "I am not a student who needs their work corrected, Granger."

Hermione sighed. "Professor Snape. Do we have to have this conversation again? If you were still Potions Professor, I wouldn't have any right to tell you how to teach, but you aren't. I am. The buck, as we say in the Muggle world, stops with me. I know I have a long way to go to, for example, spot potions that are about to explode with more than a few seconds to spare, but there are some things about teaching I do get right, and one of them is encouraging students instead of terrifying them into obedience." She pointed to the pile of scrolls. "So hand them over."

He did so, with a sneer. "I'll have you know I had an exemplary pass rate at both O.W.L and N.E.W.T level."

"And became a student's Boggart," Hermione pointed out.

Snape smiled a little as he took his own seat. "Yes. One of my proudest moments."

She stared at him. He actually means it. "You enjoy it, don't you? I mean, I always thought you just didn't care about being liked or being nice, but you enjoyed making us miserable."

He raised an eyebrow, reaching for another scroll. "I believe I read somewhere that the key to contentment is to exercise one's talents in the way best suited."

"Just because you've got a flair for sarcasm doesn't mean the best way to use it is making students cry," Hermione snapped.

"Isn't it part of the responsibility of teaching to prepare students to face the world beyond school?" Snape made a note in the margin of the essay in front of him. "Are they, in your opinion, to be sent out unarmed against insult and offence?"

"School students usually do a fairly good job of practising insult and offence against each other, in my opinion," Hermione said. "You were the most hated teacher in the school, you know."

"I'm aware," Snape said acidly. "A reputation assiduously cultivated, I assure you."

She watched him for a moment as he made another note. Exercise one's talents in the way best suited …

What had Aberforth said? Never had the talent for making friends … he was hard to like. And Aberforth Dumbledore, like Albus Dumbledore, had known Severus Snape when he was a student himself.

Snape had been a largely friendless, and probably disliked, boy. But I bet he always had a cutting tongue.

Part of her wanted to say Severus, you're not as hard to like as you think, but she could just imagine his reaction to that. She turned her attention to the essays in front of her, preparing to be tactful about Snape's ideas of encouraging remarks.

"By the way," she said as casually as she could, "We need to go somewhere this weekend." Snape looked up, eyebrows raised. "For the Quest."

.

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Author's note: But where are they going?

For those of you who have gotten used to my daily posting schedule, there are going to be a few days between chapters for a little while — but for a good reason! I've got the rest of this fic fully plotted and 90% written, but I keep tweaking and moving bits of dialogue from one conversation to another, and I want to be 100% happy with everything before I post it, so I'll be slowing down the posting to a few chapters a week to give myself time to do that.