A red hex sailed overhead as Hermione ducked behind an empty desk. She should have known really, when she agreed to let Uncle Sev teach her, that he would be nearly as demanding as Bellatrix.

"You are behind desk sixteen," he drawled. She could picture him twirling his wand between his fingers, looking bored as he scanned the room.

The "exercise" as he called it, was for her to reach the classroom door without being hit by his stinging hex. She was also supposed to be doing it without being seen or heard, but clearly she was failing in that department.

A few curls had broken free from where she had knotted her hair at the base of her neck, and they clung uncomfortably to her neck. She panted, and tried to map out the room in her mind.

"You're staying in one spot too long." His voice was coming from a new direction, and she swore internally. If he was moving she didn't have a chance.

"Why are you upset?"

She pressed her eyes closed for a moment, soaking in Bella's words. I'm not allowed to tell you. A pang of regret vibrated through her body, and she felt Bellatrix's answering reassurance.

"Snape then?"

It was one of his rules that she not discuss any of their lessons with Bellatrix. At the beginning of every lesson he tested her Occlumency shields, and reiterated the importance of keeping their lessons a secret.

"Don't worry, Doveling, he's not about to kill his favorite pupil."

She knew that, of course. But she also didn't want to disappoint him by failing... again. In the two months that he had been running her through this exercise she had yet to reach the door without being hexed.

Keeping her head down, she scampered to another desk just as the one she had been hiding behind flew into the air.

"Better," said Snape, his voice far too close for her liking. It seemed to echo off the walls, so she could not pinpoint his exact location. "You're still not moving fast enough however. If I had a scenthound you would have been caught before we began. As it is-"

There was the familiar feeling of a rope settling around her ankle and she let out a yelp as she was lifted into the air by an invisible hook.

"Nooooo," she groaned. A furious blush settled over her cheeks as her hands flew to her skirt to prevent it from falling. She needn't have bothered, he was already releasing her. She fell to the ground with a grunt.

"Water?" he asked, his tone deceptively genial.

She lay panting on the ground for a moment, willing her cheeks to stop burning. When she did sit up, she grudgingly accepted the bottle he was holding out to her.

Pulling out a chair, he sat and studied her. "You were doing well," he said finally. "Then you became distracted. Why?"

Already she knew he would be disappointed in her. Unbidden, thoughts of Bellatrix few through her mind, their summer of training, the gentle voice that she used in their minds, the husky one that she spoke with, and the soft feel of her lips against…

"Stop it!" she growled once she recognized the brush of Occlumency against her mind.

Was she imagining it, or was there a faint trace of pink in his cheeks? She was too angry to dwell on in though.

"Do you really think that the Dark Lord is going to ask your permission before he tries to invade your mind?" asked Snape, "Will Professor Dumbledore? Does Bellatrix?"

"She doesn't need to!" she retorted angrily.

His eyes became eerily cold. "Take a few deep breaths and calm yourself. I want you to think about what I said."

Just like that she was six again, struggling to learn the basics of Occlumency while her beloved Uncle Sev sighed and watched her fail yet again.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she struggled to even out her breathing. A moment later something soft brushed against her cheek. She looked up to see him holding out a snowy handkerchief. Gratefully, she accepted it and swiped it across her eyes.

"P-p-please don't tell Mother," she said, guilt churning within her stomach.

He sighed. "I will not. Nor will I suggest that the Headmaster expel you for entertaining a wanted criminal so close to school grounds. You are of age now, and your decisions are your own- no matter how foolish they may be," he grumbled in an undertone. She could not help but smile a little at that. His grumblings always came from a place of affection.

"Nevertheless," he continued, adopting his stern demeanor once again, "You are supposed to block her from our lessons-"

"I did!" she burst, wringing the handkerchief in her hands. "But she can still sense when I'm upset! And I was frustrated-"

"Then you need to tell her to hold her tongue during those moments. What if she had distracted you during a real fight, hm? If she cares about you the way you think she does-

"She does!"

He continued without noting her words, "-then you need to have these conversations with her. If she is a distraction she is a danger. I caught you Hermione. Do you realize what that means out there?" he gestured to the windows, "Out where there are no rules and you will be seen as a Death Eater by the light and a traitor by the dark if you are caught? Do you think it will be doing Bellatrix a service to know she is the reason you have been murdered?"

Every one of his words made Hermione feel smaller, and she was suddenly very conscious of the fact that she was sitting on the floor of an abandoned classroom, covered in dust and sweat. Never had she felt less worthy of the Malfoy name.

"What's happening?"

Hermione winced as Bellatrix's voice cut through her mind, but she could not stop the warmth that spread through her belly at the worry behind the other's witch's words.

Then she caught his knowing look, and felt as if she had been doused in ice water.

I'll tell you about it later, she thought miserably. She was waiting for his reprimand again, but he merely stood, and flicked his wand.

A painful screech filled the room as all of the desks slid against the walls.

"We need to work on your agility," he said gently, reaching down to help her up. "I want you to run up and down the classroom until I tell you to stop."

Perhaps he realized that she needed to talk about anything other than Bellatrix, for they spent the next twenty minutes with her running up and down, accelerating or slowing down at his command, until she was exhausted. She felt much better taking the water this time, and she flung herself into the empty chair next to his to guzzle it down.

"You'll make yourself sick," he commented, arching a brow in amusement.

She took a break, gasping for air as she realized how long she had been drinking.

"I need to speak with you about something." there was a hesitant edge to his voice that had her examine him closely. He did not meet her eye.

"What is it, Uncle Sev?"

He sighed. "The Dark Lord has decided to renew the Slytherin Ball on Christmas Eve this year."

She wrinkled her nose, "I've never heard of it."

He laughed mirthlessly, "Yes, well, I think we all hoped you never would. It's part society ball- much like your mother's parties, with a little more emphasis on the Slytherin family's customs. And it's part revel." He pursed his lips in distaste. "It is my hope that you will not be required to stay for that part."

"I'm going?" she asked curiously.

There was a disgusted sigh. "The Dark Lord wishes it." At last he raised his eyes to hers. "Traditionally an unmarried witch is accompanied by her father. As he is currently unable to attend, your mother hoped that I could step in. It will be perfectly innocent, mind you," he said quickly, and again she thought she could see the faintest tint of red in his cheeks. "As your godfather no one will assume anything untoward."

She chewed on her bottom lip, "Is it like the Yule Ball?"

"Yes and no. There will be dancing, but it will mostly be networking. Socializing and gossiping with the height of society." His lip curled in disgust. "You can, of course, say no. The Dark Lord will understand if you desire to stay at school for the holidays."

But he wouldn't like it.

"Of course I'll go," she said quickly. It sounded fun. It had been many years since she had attended a proper society event. And even then she had been so young that her mother had sent her to bed before the majority of the guests had arrived.

He sighed, and she had the distinct impression that he had been hoping she would say no.

He hid it quickly though. "I think that will be it for today. I want you to practice your Occlumency twice as much over the holiday. See if you can make any progress shielding your emotions as well as your thoughts. I'll write your mother to make arrangements for the ball."

She nodded, and bade him goodnight.

She bathed in record speed, and pounded up the stairs to her dormitory, ignoring the cheerful greetings of her house mates.

Bella? She sent out her thoughts the moment she reached her bed. Turnip jumped onto her bed just as she drew the hangings shut, enclosing them both in darkness. Bella?

"I'm here," came the distracted response. "Let me go to another room. Rab is trying to play the violin."

Hermione bounced a little on her bed as she waited for Bellatrix.

"Alright Doveling, I'm all yours."

Hermione grinned stupidly at the warm tingly feeling that was spreading under her skin. You never told me about the Slytherin Ball.

"So that was what had Severus in a sour mood all week. He didn't want to share you with the rest of us."

I hear there's revelling?

She felt a sharp pull from Bellatrix and grinned as she scratched Turnip's ears in the dark. I'll take that as a yes.

"The… 'revelling' is more of a drunken after party that occurs after the real ball. But if you'd like, I can arrange for us to have our own private revel afterwards?"

Oh?

Bellatrix laughed, "Oh."

Hermione sucked in a breath, and felt herself flush. O-oh. Erm, yes. Yes, I'd like that very much.

"It's a date then."

A/N: I'm sorry it's taken so long! I've been in the hospital for a bit, and it's been a bit of a rough month. I'm back though! And hopefully it won't be nearly as long before the next update.

Thank you to everyone for sticking with this story. Your comments make me so happy, and I always love hearing from you!