Snow began falling flake by flake, soon amounting to a pile on the grounds that clung to the gray stone walls of the castle. It was the night of Slughorn's Christmas ball. Hermione had known that Snape would be there once more to chaperone as a member of the Slytherin house. This left her questioning how to maintain her indifference in the face of the man whom had assaulted her mind and body. It had been two months since she had last spoken to her Professor on an extracurricular basis. His was the only class she did not raise her hand in, although he often picked on her to maintain the charade that everything was as it always had been. She offered the correct answers and played his game only to reduce any suspicion upon her character. Yet, the secret memories burned at her as she was burdened with the task of reducing any and all thoughts of his touch into a tiny, sealed box at the back of her mind. She had received a peach colored pleated dress from her parents as an early Christmas gift. She slowly zipped it up as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. It was quite feminine for her, but she found that school dances and social events allowed her to show that aspect. She kept reminding herself that what she was doing was only for her enjoyment as she performed a spell to tame her hair into soft curls. She placed a brown necklace on her collarbone as she reviewed the soft complementary makeup upon her face. This was also the first time she had donned a pair of heels since Umbridge had forced her to wear the burning pumps in her fifth year. She struggled to quell the memories of that night. She needed to stop asking herself whether he would notice. She was determined not to notice him.
She met Cormac outside of the Gryffindor tower at the top of the moving stairs. He let a low whistle escape his lips as he placed his arm around Hermione's.
"Lookin' fine." He added with a greedy grin on his face.
She swallowed and nodded as she began to regret her choice of company. Although she wouldn't like to admit it, the fact that Snape would be there may have contributed to the decision to have the clingiest male at Hogwarts at her side. Not that he would be jealous or anything.
They entered the classroom through satin curtains and with a sharp intake of breath, there he was. Well, his back anyway. It was broad and he was taller than she remembered. He had his typical black robes on as well, his silky hair splayed just under his collar. She tried to list all of the bad things that she could remember to keep her from striding over in his direction to avoid any further contact from Cormac and admire Snape from a better angle. She couldn't lie, she had always been one to solve problems and the mystery that he had left her with was hard to ignore. His presence tempted her in more ways than one. She was brought out of her contemplation when she felt her date's clammy fingers on her shoulder blade. They were beginning to travel lower down her back…
She turned to face him. "Would you, could you, please get us some punch?" She asked sweetly while attempting to bat her lashes.
"Sure thing, doll. Try not to miss me while I'm away." He responded with a wink.
"I won't." She said through a fake smile as he was out of earshot.
That was when she took a dive for the sheer, golden curtains in front of the window. It was the best that she could do, for now. Harry had noticed, and he wasn't the only one. She tugged on her hair as she spoke to her friend, struggling to come up with a reason for inviting and ditching her infamous date.
"I thought it would annoy Ron the most." She voiced, as this was the lie she developed after divulging her sorrow to Harry the night that Snape had sent her packing and she unleashed canaries on her other partner in crime. It all made sense this way, sans for the fact that the only annoyance she had with Lavender was that she was as clingy and jealous as Cormac, in addition to shielding Ron from any form of female friend. Hermione's heart sped up as she hoped that Harry would not question why she would do such a thing when Ron wasn't even at Slughorn's ball. Just in case, she stuffed a few desserts in her mouth to avoid answering the query. That was when she looked to her right and saw the half-blood prince striding towards the curtain.
"God, here he comes." She exhaled as she made an effort to evade any and all romantic relations that evening. And she was doing so quite successfully.
Severus swiftly opened the curtain where he had seen Hermione hidden once again with Potter. What exactly was the relationship between those two? It wasn't quick before the boy that she had come in with had nearly soiled Snape's shoes. He was certainly no threat. But, why should he think of him that way?
"You've just earned yourself a month's detention, McLaggen." He sneered. The boy with the glasses was now in the periphery of his vision.
"Not so fast, Potter." He stated before relaying a message about Dumbledore. He felt like an owl, so he acted the part in ignoring the boy's final question. He strode off as he scanned the room. Where had Miss Granger disappeared to? He hadn't gotten the chance to address their awkward separation, yet he wondered if that was for the best. How did she feel? Was she as torn as he had been as a teenager parting with Lily? He hoped not, he scoffed at the dream that he could inspire such emotion. Now, things would be as they were. He was the strict professor, and she could be the adolescent that she was meant to be. However, with this war looming and the unbreakable vow, he doubted that she would be given the innocence that she truly deserved. He despised himself for stealing any form of it from her. Yet, he wondered how naïve she was before he laid hands on her. Everyone has their own idea of perfection, but what he had felt in his palm had been exquisite and caused him to question his definition. She was intoxicating, and he found it hard to believe that not one boy had at least tried… He abhorred the thought and shook it from his mind.
It was nearly time for Draco to complete his task, and he had to find the boy to reaffirm his actions. Although, he knew that the boy would and must fail according to Dumbledore. That was the thing about this school, this war; too many innocents had to be left unscathed while those who were deemed sullied had to claw their way through the muck to blaze a trail of righteous sacrifice. It was nauseating, it was Gryffindor. Except he was Slytherin, and he was trying to execute things his way. He knew that if he followed the path that was not true to his nature, he would end up dead before the final battle. And he had been preparing himself to do so, until this girl kept raising her hand and reciting books and practicing unnecessary potions and kissing him so deeply it awakened him from the slumber a red-haired girl had cast on him years ago.
After seeking young Malfoy in the dimly lit hallway he found the boy and pressed him roughly against the wall for his impudence. He sought to implore him to do the job correctly, or they would both suffer. Snape knew that no one needed pity, what they needed to do was work to get out of the mess that they had dug themselves into. This was Draco's mess. Snape had only fallen into this snare because he seemed to be protecting everyone's baby from his graduating class from the clutches of the Dark Lord. That was his job, Snape the child defender. The blood sacrifice. After his rousing talk, he returned to the ball in search of distraction.
On his way back, he halted at the sight of a pair of peach colored heels abandoned on the floor. He walked towards them curiously, as he looked up to see a matching pair of feet floating limp from behind the castle beam. Within his gaze, there was a torso with a pleated skirt hanging around its waist.
"Hermione!" He choked as he treaded in her direction. What had the girl done? What had hurt her so badly that she would think to become one of the ghosts that walked the halls? Had he played a part? Was she as dense and reckless as he had been at that age? The apprehensive thoughts racing through his mind came to a stop as he could see the rest of her body behind the beam, there was no rope around her delicate pale throat. There was only a brown necklace. He tried to catch his breath and compose himself as he looked at the wide eyed girl he had snuck up on.
"What are you doing, girl?" He questioned tensely as he held out a hand to help her down from her place three feet above the stone floor.
"I was practicing levitation, Sir." She responded in a spooked manner, "I practice spells whenever I have something superfluous on my mind."
Of course she was, how could he forget himself, how could he forget her. She grasped his hand as he breathed a sigh. Hermione whispered the incantation that allowed her to lower herself gracefully to the castle floor. It was cold on her bare feet. As she looked at the discarded shoes, she imagined what it could have looked like. She glanced back up at her Professor. His eyes held fear and fretfulness. There was sweat on his brow from running in her direction. He cared. Even if it was only the amount that a teacher should care for their student, he cared. And that disarmed her. Her eyes and heart stung as she wrapped her arms around the waist of Severus Snape. She could feel his muscles recoil through her body and face pressed against his vest. She held still until his hands were carefully searching her back, his embrace grew tight and they both knew to let go.