AN: Sorry guys, this took way longer than I intended! Anyway, I hope you like it just as much as I do, cuz I'm very proud of this chapter. I really am.

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, why would I be writing fanfiction?

Warnings: BITCHENESS! If you don't like, don't read.

Suddenly, Snape – who might hit her back – didn't look so inviting. She cracked her knuckles at Malfoy, who obviously hadn't seen her before. He looked like he might wet himself.

Snape burst out laughing.

Hermione didn't punch Draco or Snape, though, because Bellatrix appeared. She scowled at Draco and muttered something about "bringing shame on the family" then turned to Snape.

'Severus, are you coming back to the party? Deborah's acting all superior and haughty and it's doing our heads in. I wouldn't have interrupted you, but she only…'

'You didn't interrupt anything, Bellatrix. We were just coming down.'

And they did, in a procession, with Snape in the lead, Bellatrix and Hermione walking abreast, and Draco bringing up the rear like a page boy.

Hermione had just got to wandering exactly what she had got herself into in that day's latest mental to-do list, but she found the fact that Malfoy appeared to be the lowest of the low very funny, in spite of the irritating little voice telling her that she was being nasty, and acting like a "proper Slytherin".

When they had descended the many staircases (Hermione was wandering if Snape had skipped some somehow on the way up) it was only a matter of navigating the countless hallways and corridors between them and the ballroom. Again, Hermione wandered if Snape had skipped some, because by the time she was back in the ballroom, she felt like she was on fire, and her hair was stuck to the back of her neck. Christ, I bet I have BO. Again! Wonderful way to be introduced to the people I seem to be about to be inducted into!

However, it seemed that she wouldn't be introduced BO and all, because Bellatrix turned to her, piercing acid green eyes flaming, and waved her wand in a complicated little twirly gesture. 'Never let me see you wearing those disgraceful clothes again, Mudblood. If I do I'll remove them and burn them on the spot, leaving you naked in the presence of some rather unsavoury men…and women,' she added disapprovingly, 'who would be more than happy to take advantage of a pretty little girl like you in such a situation.'

Hermione looked down at herself quickly, slightly shaken by Bellatrix's little speech, to find that her cut-offs and T-shirt had been transformed into a simple black knee-length halter-neck dress with a slit to mid thigh up the back.

Her hair was no longer bushy, either, it was actually curly. However, she was sure that her face was still flushed to some unpleasant shade of red from their fast descent through the house. Hermione weighted her options, and decided that she would take her chances with a flushed face, and began to follow Snape and co. into the ball room: she promptly stumbled, and fell flat on her face when her shoe seemed to topple over.

'Damn!'

'Problem, Granger?' Snape was infuriatingly calm and cool as she lay winded with a twisted bloody ankle on the carpet. The floor was very hard, in spite of the carpet. Her knees hurting could now be added to her list of woes.

Bellatrix extended her perfectly manicured hand from somewhere high above and hauled Hermione to her feet, where Hermione promptly toppled against her as her shoes tried to collapse again. She was now to the stage of her to-do list where she was wandering why her good, sensible trainers kept toppling her over. They didn't have heels…

Bellatrix was sniggering, so Hermione decided to be brave and looked down at her nice Lonsdale trainers, with their little pink edge pieces. They had changed radically! They were now black, with very pointed toes and a three or four (she wasn't sure) inch heel on the back.

'Not used to wearing heels, Granger?'

Hermione shook her head.

'As a senior Death Eater, I expect a verbal response.'

'No, I'm not "used" to wearing heels.'

'And I'd like your attitude gone, girl. You may address me as Madame Lestrange or ma'am only.'

'No, ma'am, I'm not used to walking in heels.'

'That's better, little girl. We may make a worthy Death Eater of you yet.'

With that, she left a bristling Hermione and headed into the ballroom after Snape's retreating back. The bastard hadn't bothered to intervene! Dick!

So, taking what was left of her shattered dignity and self respect, Hermione pulled together everything she knew about the way models walked on the catwalk. After a few test steps, she felt confident enough to enter the room without tripping.

Inside, Snape was waiting for her, surrounded by a gaggle of women, all of whom made Hermione look like Ugly Betty. This was something she did not ("not" spelt with a capital "N") like!

Now feeling just as miserable as she had been five minutes before, she slunk up to Bellatrix and stood slightly behind her. This was the woman who had killed Sirius, after all, and she should be wary around her, right? Hermione definitely though so!

But Bellatrix was the least of her worries, as her hopes of staying relatively unnoticed had just been flung out the window.

'Are you going to introduce us to the Mudblood, Severus, or are you going to be as impolite as usual?' queried a sneering woman with flaming tomato red hair and blue eyes.

'Well, Meddya, I was going to introduce you all to Miss. Granger, but since you were so rude and impatient, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.'

Meddya stared, mouth open like a fish, at Snape, for about a minute before she finally took the hint and spun on her heel.

'Now,' he turned to the other women, 'since you are all so nice and patient, patience shall be rewarded; ladies, this is my new apprentice and ex-student Hermione Jane Granger. I guarantee that she'll be a very worthy introduction to our ranks, when her time comes.'

The women looked at Hermione, who stared back, completely clueless, until Narcissa Malfoy mimed an introduction from behind Bellatrix, who smacked the blonde woman's arm. Hard.

'Yeah, um, hi, guys, it's lovely to meet you all, uh, Sir?' she looked at Snape, who was smirking condescendingly, and suddenly felt a burst of furious confidence. 'Sir, would you be so kind as to introduce me to all you charming friends. It hardly seems polite that they should know my name, but I not know theirs.'

'Of course, Miss Granger,' Snape was smirking, and judging by the looks of cool surprise on the women's faces, her confident, though polite, demand had been right on. 'This is Deborah Yaxley-' he indicated the café au late woman, 'Madame Lestrange and Madame Malfoy, you know already. Desdemona Avery-' he indicated a pleasant looking woman with honey brown hair and doe eyes, 'Elaine Tettley-' a tall, handsome faced but unremarkable woman, 'and Evanah Rosier-' a flaming redhead with violet eyes and red lipstick. 'The lady who was so impolite was Meddya Jenkins, but we shall pay no heed to her.'

'Now, I need to refill my champagne, so I'll leave you all to get acquainted.' He walked quickly into the crowd and vanished.

The women looked around a little, making sure he was gone, then turned to Hermione...

'So, Hermione,' simpered the Yaxley woman, 'what made you, a dedicated good girl, want to become a Death Eater? You always seemed like such a nice little girl, from our darling Severus' accounts, always sticking up for your…kind. What changed that, dear?'

Hermione decided that she really didn't like Deborah Yaxley right then and there. This was the one question she had been dreading, and that horrid, simpering woman had to ask it!

'To be honest, I don't really know. I believe it was a number of things, but the Order's cowardice (they're supposed to be Gryffindors!) was one of the main contributors. I want to be with a side that does something, and to be honest, I really don't care what that "something" is! Any more questions while I'm at it, ladies?' Wow, Granger, where did which come from?

The women seemed rather stunned. Bellatrix smirked. 'What did I say about attitude, Granger?'

'I don't know, Lestrange, what did you say about attitude? It must have been really unremarkable, because I really can't recall.' Maybe that was a bad idea...

'I said we need to cut the sass, missy. I expect you to remember that, or you'll be on the business end of my wand. Oh, and you forgot something else; it's Madame Lestrange.'

'But you have loads of attitude and you'd never give it up, or let anyone tell you to, so why should I give up my bitchiness and sass? You wouldn't, would you?' Here I am, shooting my mouth off as usual...

Bellatrix was temporarily silenced. Now for long, though, 'Don't do as I do, Hermione, do as I say.'

Hermione put on her most sassy, kiss my arse, bad girl smile, with extra sugar and whipped cream on top, 'Actually, Bellatrix, I think I'll do as you do. The time honoured saying 'do as you would be done by' seems rather appropriate here, don't you think?'

'Bravo, Miss Granger,' Snape clapped a couple of times. Hermione hadn't seen him come back, but she felt rather pleased that he'd seen her outsmart, or rather, out bitch the biggest bitch in the pack. 'She got you good and proper, Trixa. I should have warned you about the dangers of pissing her off before you tried to rile her though. My bad,' He turned to Hermione, 'Would you care for a glass of champagne, Hermione?'

'Please.'

Snape flashed a devilish smirk, and disappeared once again. Bellatrix was still fuming, and Hermione half expected to see smoke issuing from her nose and ears.

Instead, the dark woman gathered herself and smiled in a genuine fashion. 'Good work, girl. You'll survive this place, if you keep that up, I think.'

Bellatrix was had good sportsmanship, Hermione would give her that, 'Thank you, you weren't bad yourself, Bellatrix.'

Hermione gave the woman another extra sweet smile, and sashayed off to find Snape. She met the man halfway, and retrieved her glass of champagne from him. 'I think I might make it, Snape. They seem to like me.'

'Don't count your chikens before they hatch, Granger. You haven't seen the Dark Lord yet.'

'Pft, if I can survive Bellatrix, I can survive Voldemort. You shouldn't underestimate me.'

'I haven't. I've been estimating people of all different sorts all my life, little girl. I have never underestimated a single one.'

'Good for you.'

'Bitch!'

'Thanks.'

'Dance with me?'

Hermione hadn't noticed that a band in the corner had started up.

'Alright, but you'd better not tread of my feet. If you do, things'll get nasty.'

'Look at me, Miss Granger. Do I really look like the sort of man who stands on his partner's feet?'

'No.'

'Didn't think so.'

'You can't call me arrogant. You're so bid headed I'm surprised you haven't broken your neck yet.'

'You sound like Lily.'

'As in Harry's mum?'

'Yes, that Lily.'

'How do I sound like her? She was kind and gentle and I'm a "bitch".'

'To her, and Narcissa, her rival and part time partner in crime, my friend Rodolphus and I were the most arrogant (well, second most if you add Potter, Black or both into the equation) bastards in the world.'

'That sounds like you. Who's "Rodolphus"?'

'He's Bellatrix's toy-boy, husband and lover. When he gets back from his extended vacation in Azkaban, that is.'

'That bastard! He tortured Neville's parents!'

'You realise, Granger, that we're talking like old friends?'

'Us? Friends? Yeah right!'

'We're going to have to be friends, of a sort, if this is going to work.'

'Dream on.'

'You asked for this to happen, Granger. None of it would have ever happened if you hadn't come barging in, shooting your big mouth off.'

'You bloody git! Dumbledore gave me virtually no information, excluding your addresses. This house is F-ing well massive, and it wasn't because I was shouting that I was discovered, it was because I opened the wrong door.'

Hermione felt like she was on fire now: the bad sort of fire. She was sure she was flushed and that her eyes were flaming, too.

'You look nearly as good as Bellatrix when you're angry, Hermione.'

'Is that a rather…warped compliment, Severus?'

He jerked her against him, 'Maybe.'

'Let. Me. Go.'

'Make me. I want to see what you can do.'

Hermione slapped him on the back, but he just laughed. 'You've gotta do better than that, Granger.'

Hermione drew her knee up into his groin viciously, and was rewarded by his startled and rather pained "oof!".

'Good enough?'

'No.'

He pulled her even closer, crushing her rather tenderer chest against his hard, muscular one.

'Painful?' she nodded weakly. This man was indestructible! 'Do something about it.'

Gathering all her strength, she drew back her arm and punched him squarely in the jaw. At least, she aimed to hit him there, but her fist slid and smacked into his nose with a sickening crunch. Blood splattered everywhere.

Hermione stared in horror at what she had done to his face, 'Oh my God, I'm so sorry! Do you want me to fix that?' Hermione cringed as he turned flashing eyes on her.

'Nice one. I was wondering when you were going to do that.'

'You were wondering when I'd do that? Look at the state of you. God, I'm really, really sorry. Here, move your hand and let me fix that.'

'Don't bother. It's been broken so many times it doesn't fix properly anymore.'

'At least let me try? So I don't feel guilty,' Hermione knew she was pleading, but she truly did feel bad for breaking his nose!

'Fine!'

''K,' Hermione reached to where her wand should have been, in the back pocket of her jeans, but found no wand. 'Damn, I must have dropped it when my clothes changed! Argh!'

'Try your leg, Granger. Look on your right upper thigh.'

And sure enough, it was there, 'Why is it there?'

'You can't very well shove it in your pocket if you don't have one, can you?'

Hermione pulled her wand out of the magical holster, which was something like one of the leg holsters for pistols she had seen when her father went to buy a new rifle.

'OK, I can see your point. Here…' she tapped his nose once…twice…three times muttering "Resertorcio", feeling him wince slightly each time, and then watched with barely concealed satisfaction as his nose knitted itself back together, straighter, and shorter.

He reached up tentatively and ran a finger up his nose then back down, feeling the curve, or lack thereof.

'How did you do that?'

'Well, your nose had obviously been broken several times in the same place, so I just healed it with a strong heeling spell.'

'It never worked for me.'

'That's because Healing spells are meant to be performed by a second party, another person.'

'Thank you, Granger.'

'You're welcome, Snape

'Don't. Call. Me. That.'

'Then you don't call me "Granger".'

'What shall I call you then?'

'Hermione.'

'If we're going to work together, you should call me Severus.'

'How about we start this whole thing again, then, because I've been a pain in your arse for the last six years, and you've been a right bastard back. Shall we put all that behind us?'

He extended a hand, 'Hallo, my name is Severus Snape; it's a pleasure to meet you.'

Hermione giggled hopelessly as he took her hand and kissed (!) it, 'I'm Hermione Granger, and the pleasure's all mine, I assure you.'

'Would you like another glass of champagne, Hermione?'

'Yes please, Severus.'

He walked off, and Hermione took the opportunity to survey the ball room. Everyone was still dancing, or talking, or drinking, or doing unmentionable things in dark corners, completely unaware that the world's most unlikely truce had just been made.

AN: Just a quicky cuz I've got a request to make. I've got loads of people who have this on alert, but only a few who review. As a special treat for moi, would you all hit the "review" button, even if you just say "good" or "bad".

Thanks guys!