Snape thankfully released her upon their return, offering to discuss the events of the evening the next afternoon instead, to give her time to digest what had happened. What had happened, as it turned out, was that Hermione found her scalding shower to turn from a need for cleanliness to a replaying of the sounds her teacher/friend made sexually. Were those the sounds that he genuinely made during sex? Or simply sounds manufactured to sell the story to others?

Needless to say, she did not sleep well. Instead of being plagued by nightmares or restlessness, Hermione found herself struggling to fall into slumber at all. Something was niggling at her about it. She felt confused and uncomfortable, but in a new and thrilling way. Every time she thought that she might have the man figured out, she was thrown for a loop again. And this was a particularly delicious loop.

At three o'clock the next afternoon, Hermione found herself crossed legged and quieter than usual as she sipped her tea alongside Severus. They would be working on her occlumency after the briefing, as if things couldn't get any worse.

"So," he began. "How do you feel about yesterday?"

The young brunette swallowed her mouthful and spoke carefully. "It was… interesting."

One eyebrow rose in a signature mocking. "Interesting? Nice descriptive emotion you've got there."

"It was very interesting," she snapped. "If you wanted emotions, you should have asked with more clarity."

"Well then, Hermione, what emotions did you feel before, during and after our exercise?"

She scowled at his smirking face. Smug git. If he only knew how frazzled she was by their antics.

"I felt very uncomfortable, thanks. Confused at times. Intrigued at others. It was a useful learning experience, and I'm sure the lessons will come in handy."

"Very diplomatic," he commented. "Which lessons do you think will be of use to you?"

Shit. "Adapting to rapidly changing situations," she improvised. "Acting a part well enough to fit in, even if it does not come naturally. Interacting with strangers."

"And?" he pressed.

"Sir?"

He took a long sip of his tea and eyed her thoughtfully. "Engaging in behaviours and entering establishments that you may find unsavoury or even triggering in some way?"

Hermione flushed. "I was surprised by the tavern, it's true, but I think I adapted fairly well."

"And to the activities in the room upstairs?"

She shrugged. "I don't understand why that was particularly necessary, but I don't think I screwed that up."

"You didn't."

Hermione sighed and placed her teacup onto the table. "Then why are you mentioning it, Sir?"

"Because you have experienced trauma, sexually. And I required you to act in a sexual manner."

The girl laughed. "It was just mucking around, making noises. Not too much trouble."

"And what if we needed to appear closer with an audience? What if I needed to kiss you? Or if you needed to behave as if you were in love with me?"

"Why would that be necessary?"

"If I'm to bring you to the Dark Lord, we will need to convince him that you're truly interested in joining his forces, or at the very least can be exploited. I'm unsure if he will believe that you came on your own, just happening to trust that I am on his side and not Dumbledore's. It seems rash and careless, nothing like your persona."

"So what are you suggesting?"

"I am suggesting that we say that you approached me for solace, realising that the people around you could not be trusted."

"Well that's fairly true," she conceded, and he nodded his head.

"I then used the time with you to seduce you into the dark arts, and we formed a relationship of a tentative flirtatious nature."

"So, we want them to think you shagged me into joining?"

He snorted. "That's fairly crass. And unnecessary."

"Really?" she asked. "They won't expect more?"

Severus sighed and sat up straighter, turning to face her fully. "The Death Eaters are people, Hermione. People with horrible ideals, and horrific ways of executing them, but they are people. If I'm to be interested in you, and you interested in the cause, why would our being intimate validate that? Just knowing that we are connected will be enough, and will also be enough for the others to avoid hitting on you."

Her eyes widened in surprise.

"The bro code is universal," he winked, and Hermione's jaw fell open in shock before she recovered and hit him with a steely look.

"Sexist. Calling it the 'bro code' is entirely inappropriate, Professor."

"Okay. What would you rather call it?"

"How about 'being a decent human being'?"

"That works I guess. Less fun to say."

Hermione snorted and chucked a cushion at his head as she stood to grab a box of cookies from her desk. "Like you give a single fuck about 'fun to say'. Your students would have a heart attack."

She was his student too, but he saw no need to correct her. It was very difficult to be authoritative with someone after bouncing up and down on a gross mattress and making sex noises.

He growled quietly. "Shall we begin with today's lesson?"

Their training became more difficult once term commenced. Severus found himself swamped with homework to mark while Hermione spent a lot of time dodging her classmates. All of the Order professors had given her a reprieve from homework, requiring her to simply hand in a parchment of magically copied text to keep up appearances. This lowered her workload, but not enough to make up for Occlumency lessons, studying of the dark arts texts, practicing subterfuge and learning as much as she could about spying in general. Plus, she was working on her potions project. Draco would be brought in as a secondary research partner – Severus would recommend this to the Dark Lord, and she needed to show enough progress to convince them that her time spent with Severus had advanced her research. They needed their timeline to make sense, and the timeline indicated that she had begun an apprenticeship upon the recommencement of school. In a month's time, when she was introduced to the Dark Lord, they would need to have something to show for a month of work.

Often, their lessons would be conducted in her private chambers in the late hours, Hermione going for an 'early night' before sneaking out of the dormitory, and then returning to Gryffindor tower in the morning before the others arose, opening the curtains around her bed and moving items around to give the impression that she was still living there. She had asked Dumbledore if he would come up with an excuse for her to stay in the guest wing, but he had steadfast refused. So sneaking around it was.

Regardless, her dorm mates assumed that she was seeing someone, they just couldn't bring themselves to care. Lavender had always been self-absorbed at best, and Hermione had always been an outsider among her female peers. Too bookish, not concerned about her appearance, not interested in gossip… Hermione had always been 'one of the boys', and she hadn't seen it as a bad thing. Being able to break from the mold was empowering. It was somewhat a shame that now she would still have occasional flashbacks and struggle with being around men in general, other than Severus for some reason that she couldn't quite place. As she had told him so long ago, he made her feel safe. And more than that, he provided her with companionship that felt like a true comfort. She didn't need to pretend to be anything she wasn't, and he didn't either.

They kept up their paper plane method of communication, but the boundaries began to blur. Hermione had worked out how to allow Severus access to her chambers, and if Dumbledore was aware, he didn't mention it. Rather disturbingly quickly, Severus started to come and go with confidence, as if he owned the place. It wasn't out of the ordinary for him to waltz in, disturb Hermione's reading, and steal a snack from whatever food she had at hand. He would call Spiffy, purloin her bookshelves or desk, and generally make himself at home.

Hermione didn't mind. In fact, it felt nice.

Things didn't start to get awkward until the weekend before Hermione's intended introduction to the society of dark wizardry. They had stayed up late, studying hard on her potion as well as pop quizzing on info for her meeting with Voldemort. They had decided on a safe level of information for her to offer freely, and decided on memories that she could focus on were the Dark Lord to enter her mind. Regardless of how prepared they were, they couldn't help but feel on edge. Failure would see both of them sent to their deaths.

They sat up talking while the embers in the fire burned out, sipping at a few mouthfuls too many of a lovely robust wine that Severus had brought along with him, distracting themselves from what was to come. The hours of preparation were done for the night, and the time for just 'being' was much needed.

"How did you get introduced to the Dark Lord?" Hermione asked quietly. "Did a friend draw you in?"

Severus frowned. "Yes, and no. My circle of friends from Hogwarts could be described as small at best, and those that were interested in me only became so when I started to show above average capabilities in most fields of magic, and in potions particularly. They started to realise that they could use me for this, and I wanted the power and attention that this afforded me. I needed to feel respectable, having always felt rather lesser throughout my youth. Hogwarts gave me a sense of superiority, but it was Slytherin that gave me a hint of companionship. There's no use being in any way better than your peers if you are not recognised for it."

Hermione was a little shocked. "Did you consider yourself to be better?"

"Yes," he answered honestly. "I knew more when I arrived at Hogwarts than students years older than me. And that was with a muggle father. For all the pureblood belief that being of proper lineage, I was already better than most of them when I arrived. I could best seventh year students. I grew up poor, in many ways neglected by my parents and abused by my father. Generally, a shit home life can produce less competent wizards, whether by quashing confidence or other means. But I was confident in my powers, because I really was good."

Hermione nodded. "Is that why you wanted to join? You wanted to learn more?"

"Partially," Severus replied. "But honestly, I was seduced more by power and respect. I didn't feel that much drive for the knowledge, because as a young man I rather felt that I already knew everything worth knowing, and I could teach myself the things that I didn't."

"Wow," Hermione gasped, trying to lighten the mood. "Arrogant, much?"

Her companion smirked. "Like you can talk, know-it-all."

"Hey! I liked to learn!"

"And I liked to know things. Not that different, really."

"Maybe that's why we get along so well," Hermione responded without thinking. "In some ways, we are very much the same."

Piercing black eyes stared into her own, and the younger woman began to regret her words. Here she was, twenty years younger and with so much less experience, claiming similarities between herself and this man. To her surprise, the corners of his mouth twitched into a genuine smile, and he nudged her with his shoulder.

"Yes. We are."

When the fire was completely out and their glasses empty, the fell asleep leaning against each other, Hermione's hand falling onto his chest and Severus' arm curling around her in sleep. Friends. They were friends.