Disclaimer — J. K. Rowling is the second richest woman in England (actual fact, go check it out) and I am a lowly American college student. Who do you think owns Harry Potter? All I have are my two-bit ideas and odd writing technique. Cheers!

Chapter 5: A Rash Decision

The blaring sound woke Hermione out of a distraught sleep.

"What?" She muttered aloud, trying to identify the source of the alarming sound. "Shit!" She cried, alarm! She'd set the alarm before she got in the shower, just in case she took so long that the sorting started. Her shower had actually only taken twenty minutes and the sorting was running late (a message on her nightstand informed her of this, apparently the same first year as before refused to even enter the castle until they found his or her ferret, or whatever it was). With this in mind, she'd decided to indulge in a little cat nap before dinner. It would help her refresh she figured, and there was time enough.

"Shit, shit, shit!" She said under her breath as she ran around frantically, trying to find her tie, while attempting to button her shirt at the same time.

"Oh, bugger it!" She exclaimed, giving up on the tie, and trying to concentrate on the last couple of buttons at the top of her no longer perfectly crisp, white button down shirt. She would just have to welcome the incoming first years tieless, rumpled, and frazzled. Running into the bathroom she splashed some cold water on her face and, looking at herself in the mirror, made the most impulsive and rash decision of her life: she went to her truck and pulled out a small cosmetics kit her aunt had given her for Christmas. Refusing the let herself be talked out of this by anyone, particularly herself, she returned to the bathroom and applied just enough concealer to hide the circles under her eyes, then just enough eye liner and mascara to make her eyes pop, and just enough deep red lip gloss to make it look like she was about five years old and had just been kissing someone devilishly handsome.

Satisfied and terrified at the same time, she grabbed her robe and flung it over her shoulder on her way out the door.

"Where is she?" Ron asked, distressed. "Haven't you seen her?"

"No, not since earlier on the train, mate!" Neville answered, looking quite concerned himself.

"Well, maybe she'd be here if you'd been at the meeting!" Harry said, trying not to sound too accusing.

"What meeting?" Neville practically pleaded? "Everyone knew there wasn't really going to be a meeting because of the teacher assigned to run it!"

"Who?" Ron asked, still constantly looking over his shoulder at the entrance to the great hall.

"Snape!" Neville said in a hushed voice.

"No!" Ron said, forgetting entirely about the door.

"Yeah!" Neville said, nodding. "McGonagall said he ought to, since every other house professor had taken a turn but him, in about ten years at least."

"That must be why she was so upset after the meeting!" Ron said.

"Yeah." Harry added, wondering silently why, if that had been the reason, she hadn't just said that in the first place.

"Man," Ron said, sounding sympathetic, "I wish she'd mentioned something. We could have commiserated!"

"Yeah." Harry said, nodding. He decided to try and steer the conversation away from that fateful meeting, he didn't much fancy discussing it with Ron before he's got the full story from Hermione herself. "Anyway," He said, seizing the gap in conversation. "Who d'you think we'll--" He was cut short suddenly and his mouth fell open.

"What?" Ron asked? "What?!" He said again, then turned to see what his friend was staring at.

"Bloody hell!" He cried when his gaze found what had stopped Harry dead in his tracks.

"Hm?" Neville said, then turned and gasped.

Hermione entered the great hall considerably slower then she might have liked. She knew that she should have slunk in and found a seat as quickly as possible so as not to be noticed arriving late. But something stopped her. Something in her heart told her to slow down, and saunter in just as though she belonged there, because she did belong there.

She ignored her friends, who were staring at her as though they'd only just realized she was, indeed, female. She ignored the stares from the other tables. She allowed a small flicker of a smile to cross her lips as she dipped her head, ever so slightly to Draco, sitting all the way across the room from her, hiding his approving smile behind his arm.

Turning she found that Hagrid was looking at her curiously, and she smiled warmly at him. She shook himself slightly and waved at her, before turning back to Professor Flitwick, who seemed to be attempting to have a conversation with the large man.

Next her gaze fell on Remus. He too was giving her an odd look, but smiled when she caught his eye. He nodded then returned to his drink in front of him. Hermione smiled, pleased that her adult friends weren't angry or appalled.

She started to turn to take her seat at the Gryffindor table, but felt someone else's eyes on her, and turned to see who it was. Suddenly she was caught, like a deer in a cars headlines, by the powerful gaze of Severus Snape. She froze, completely petrified. Was he angry? He didn't have a right to be, but was he? Would he yell at her for trying to temp him? She almost laughed out loud at the absurd thought. As if he would ever give a damn what I wear. Just because I can't get rid of this idiotic crush, doesn't mean I suddenly mean something to him! That's ridiculous! Still, it was nice to dream.

Shaking her head she went to claim her seat next to Harry, and the rest of her friends. Oh boy, she thought wryly to herself. This ought to be a blast.

"You could have warned us!" Ron cried, as they left the Gryffindor common room after the new student orientation to get a bite to eat (one of many Prefect privileges).

"About what?" Hermione asked, getting more then a little peeved. "That I over slept and didn't feel like pulling on a wool robe for a summer dinner?!"

"Yeah—no! Wait, I mean. . ." Ron faltered, unsure of himself.

"What Ron means," Harry interjected, "Is, we just weren't expecting—"

"What?!" Hermione cried exasperated, cutting Harry off. "That I'm a girl and I wear makeup? Or that I am capable of overheating, and hence did not wish to wear a long wool robe over my perfectly acceptable school clothes?"

"No—we—I mean—" Harry tried, but Hermione was sick of their questions and their stares. She hadn't done anything wrong! Nowhere in dress code did it state that, if a student were in fear of over heating, they were still obligated to don the black, wool robes of a wizard during meal time!

Hermione knew in her heart this had been the last thing on her mind when she was getting herself ready for dinner, but even so, why should she have to justify her actions to her friends? The conversation was starting to give her a headache and decided to end it and get away as quickly as possible. She needed some time to think

"Whatever,." She said, turning and walking down the hall towards the library.

"'Mione, wait!" Harry called after her, but she ignored him and started to walk faster and faster until she was running. She ran so far and so fast that she didn't stop until she was out of breath. Wheezing she collapsed on the floor to catch her breath and survey her surroundings. That's odd, the thought to herself. I know I should be at the library, but I've never seen this hallway before? Turning around she decided the her best bet would be to just keep going in the direction she felt would lead to the library.

Walking along the corridor she encountered several portraits, none of whom seemed to be awake. She attempted to cajole a middle aged woman in a Victorian gown to tell her what part of the castle she was in, but the woman just glared at her and stalked off out of her frame.

On and on Hermione wandered, searching for some recognizable hallway, painting, or room. Finally, just as she was about to give up and sleep in the hallway, she turned a corner and found herself at the Room of Requirement. Though she hadn't spent much time there (most of her trips there had been to attend Harry's mock DADA sessions during their fifth year), she recognized it instantly. No other door in the castle had quite the same look about it as this door did. Hermione had toyed with the idea of doing a paper for her history class on the Room of Requirement and just why it was so. . . different. She had theorized that it was because the entire contents of the room were magic, and it didn't have any specifically defined base shape that it reverted too when empty, so of course the door to it would look odd.

Just as she was musing over the possibility of her paper, the door to the Room of Requirement swung slowly open. Hermione gasped and ducked behind the corner. She wasn't sure why, surely she had no reason to hide. As Head Girl it was her right to be out and about in the middle of the night, especially since she had been looking for the library to do some studying in the first place. And still, she had felt the irresistible urge to hide. Steeling herself for what she might see (though really she had no idea who would be out at this hour, it was getting on eleven!), she peeked around the corner and her heart skipped a beat. She started to sweat and glanced around hopelessly for somewhere to run or hide. The person she had seen exiting the Room of Requirement, the person now heading down the hallway in her direction, the person about to turn to corner and find her there, was none other then Severus Snape.

Think, Hermione! THINK! There's got to be a way out, there's got to be an explanation! Hermione's thoughts raced desperately around her mind. Seconds ticked by. He was just about to turn the corner. She could hear his heavy boots (were they tipped with metal?) as they proceeded steadily towards here. In the last second before he turned the corner she could even hear him breathing and smelled something she thought must be roses. Well that's absurd! Was her last thought before she shut her eyes tightly, and collapsed on the floor.

"Miss. Granger? Miss Granger! Wake up! Wake up, Hermione!" Severus shouted at her. Hermione reluctantly fluttered her eyes open to look at him. He'd been fanning her face and yelling at her for long enough, she really couldn't keep it up any longer. She feigned surprise at seeing him and exclaimed, "Professor! What. . . what happened?" Sitting up from her prone position, half on the floor and half in Severus' arms. She rubbed her head with her hand and looked around her, only half pretending she had no idea where she was.

"Miss. Granger?" Severus asked again, this time with less panic in his voice.

"Yes, Sir?" She answered, turning to look at him, her butt still firmly planted on the cold stone floor.

"What, may I ask, happened?" He said, giving her an intensely inquisitive gaze. "I turned the corner and you practically fell into my arms. You've been unconscious for nearly five minutes!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry Professor. . ." Hermione said, turning away from him and attempting to get to her feet. "I. . . I don't rightly remember, I'm afraid." She lied, keeping her face averted, pretending to be looking around herself in wonder. "I was heading to the library to study for the quiz you assigned for Wednesday." She risked looking at him. His expression was impassive, and so she turned to face him, twiddling her thumbs and shuffling her feet as she continued. "And I know that I went the right way, but somehow I ended up in a hallway I've never seen. And I don't ever remember getting here either. The last thing I remember clearly is waking up on the floor." She bit her tongue to avoid adding "in your arms."

Severus looked at her, his expression less blank now and more curious. Oh how cute he looks when he's curious! She thought, then almost stomped on her own foot for thinking it. Finally, after staring at her for what felt like forever, Severus spoke. "Well, as you can plainly see, you're about three floors off from the library." He said, looking smarmy and almost amused, as he pointed to what something Hermione had not noticed until now. A window.

"Oh." She said lamely. She went over to peer out and found that she was, indeed, on the forth floor. But I didn't go up any stairs? She wondered to herself. Hermione continued to mutter to herself scowling down the hallway, completely failing to notice Severus' inquisitive gaze, until he gently cleared his throat.

"Hm?" She said absently, turning to face him again. Severus said nothing, but gave her a look. "What?" She said, beginning to get nervous under this intense gaze.

"I was merely wondering if you were ever going to go off to the library, of if you would prefer me to escort you there." He said, his silky voice laced with amused sarcasm. "Or would you feel better if I were to hold your hand?" He added, smiling wickedly.

Hermione blushed furiously and stammered to regain her composure. "I. . . I can find m. . . my way there perfectly fine by myself." She turned, prepared to walk off in a huff, and found herself face to face with a wall that she could have sworn was not there a minute ago. Startled she jumped back, and gave a very undignified "yip!"

Severus chuckled to himself. Hermione turned and glared at him, quite forgetting for the moment that Severus was her professor, and not some annoying Slytherin peer. He appeared to blanch, and covered his mouth feigning a cough. When he lowered his arm, his smirk had all but disappeared, leaving only a faint gleam of amusement in his dark, mysterious eyes that made Hermione's knees weak.

"Shall we, Miss Granger?" He said, gesturing down the what she assumed to be the correct hallway. Hermione said nothing, and turned waiting for him to lead the way. Severus made a noise, but said nothing and strode down the hallway away her Hermione. She fallowed him quietly, glaring at his back.

The hallway led them to a gigantic spiral staircase that Hermione had never seen before. This was only mildly surprise to her, considering the night she seemed to be having. They began their decent and continued well past the ground floor on which the library resided. Hermione began to wonder just where Severus was leading her until he suddenly stopped, and opened a door on his right, motioning her to go through ahead of him. She did, quite curious as to where she would end up, and came out in a small, cramped room filled to the bursting point with books. Hermione gasped and stared about her in wonder.

"Where are we Professor?" She asked, her annoyance melting off of her. She turned to face him and found him looking at her with a curious expression, not altogether unlike amusement. The expression was short lived as he cleared his throat. He seems to be doing that a lot, this evening, Hermione couldn't help but think to herself as she watched his expression harden into a scowl.

"What does it look like, Miss. Granger?" He asked in what Hermione could have sworn was forced annoyance. He shook her head to rid it of the paranoia threatening to overcome her thoughts.

Turning around to survey her surroundings again she pretended to ponder, well aware of her professor standing behind her watching her with Merlin only knew what thoughts running through his head.

"It looks," She said finally, turning once more to face him, not bothering to conceal her broad smile. "Like I've died and gone to heaven!"

Snape could not hide his open expression of complete shock, and could do no more then gap for a millisecond, and then scowl all the more sternly at her. "It is not, I assure you." He said finally regaining his composure. "Were it," He added, striding forward past her into the depths of the impossibly tall, dark wood bookcases, "I doubt I would be here."

Hermione took note of his last comment, deciding to save it for later and enjoy this hidden treasure trove of books while she had access to them. Who knew there was a second, hidden library within Hogwarts! Well that's obvious, you twit, she through sternly to herself, you should have know, but you didn't. Now pay attention! She shook her head and stared up and up and up at the shelves that seemed to go on forever. The ceiling she realized was enchanted, much like the great hall. Unlike the ever famous hall though, this ceiling showed some grand forest canopy growing out of the tops of the shelves! Even though it was night here in this mystical forest, Hermione could still make out a few patches of starlight in between the bunches of leaves far above her head.

He was in the middle of cursing his own name for bringing her here when he heard her sigh. He turned to glare at her, only to find her completely entranced by the ceiling. Severus had long since stopped looking up when he came here, to his personal wing of the private, professor's libraries. It may have been beautiful—and a truly remarkable piece of wizardry created by the four Hogwarts founders, so long ago—but that did not mean he had to spend twenty minutes of his life staring up every time he needed to get a book.

"If you're quite through admiring the illusion above your head, I believe this is what you were wanting." He said gruffly. Startling her out of her trance. She looked alarmed for a moment and he growled harshly to himself for scaring the girl—then almost kicked himself for feeling as though he should be somehow kind to the infernal bother.

"I beg your pardon?" She said finally, jarring him from his internal struggle.

"This," Severus said, extending an arm and pointing at a shelf next to him on which lay the books containing the information relating to the quiz he had assigned.

Hermione did not answer, instead choosing to move forward, brushing past him and causing his insides to shudder at her brief touch. Dammit! He cried internally, Stop acting like such a prat! Get a hold of yourself before she notices!

She didn't notice though. She was too busy gawking at the books before her nose. He scowled as she reached out to touch them without asking. Stroking the spines gently she craned her said upward, staring in undeniable wonder at the vast collection of books relating to potions, potion lore, and potion making. "What is this place?" She said finally, turning to him, a huge idiotic grin spread across her face.

"This," He said, making every attempt to fill his voice with spite and bile, "Is my personal wing of the Hogwarts professor's library. I'm amazed you haven't read about it yet."

"I doubt they would have put any books about it anywhere the students could find," She said, seemingly ignorant of his nasty tone. "This place is amazing! I'm sure it'd get mobbed if anyone knew how to find it!"

"No doubt it would," Severus agreed grudgingly. "Which is why the doors can only be opened by their given professor. You should see the look on Professor McGonagall's face when she needs a book on potions and has to ask me to open the door for her." He said, smiling to himself, and then turning his face from the girl to hide his utter horror at the familiarity with which he had just spoken to her. Dear gods, what is happening to me?! He thought desperately. He needed to get her out of here quick, before he said something regrettable.

She said nothing, seemingly unaware of his inner turmoil. He could, however, feel her eyes burning questioning holes into his back. Instead of voicing her obvious questions however, she shuffled and, chancing a glance he saw the her attention was back on the books in front of her. Turning to face her again he could not stop his eyes from wandering over her delicate form as she stood before him, her profile to him. He shuddered inwardly, but found his eyes glued to her, unable to look away.

She had dressed most inappropriately for dinner, leaving her robe slung lazily over one shoulder and not even bothering to button her shirt properly or put on her house tie. It had been all he could manage not to stare at her as she glided into the great hall for dinner at an obscenely slow pace. It had been as though she wanted every head in the great hall to turn and stare at her. Attention whore, he had through to himself angrily. She should be setting a better example, she's a Prefect for Merlin's sake!

"Would you permit me to study some of these, Professor?" Hermione asked bringing him back to the present as she again caressed the delicate spines of the books before her. She really must have no appreciation for what a "private" collection means, he thought sourly to himself. If he'd wanted students pawing at his books, he would have given them out on the first day.

She could paw at me any time she likes though, a very small and very unwelcome voice inside him said. He ignored it and tried to pretend that it didn't exist.

"Why in the world do you think I would have brought you here if I wouldn't?" He asked, becoming ever more infuriated at her persistent questions. He was loosing his temper and his composure. He needed to get her out of her quickly, before he did something regrettable. If only she would stop fondling his books, take the ones she needed, and leave!

She turned, still unaware of his inner struggles. It looked as though she were blushing. "My apologies, Professor." She said, seemingly cowed.

"I simply meant," Severus explained, stealing a deep breath and walking over to the shelf beside her. "That you expressed a wish to study for the quiz on Wednesday, and I thought these books would be more helpful then the ones made available to the general student population."

She turned and raised an eyebrow at him, obviously curious about the sudden special treatment. He had to bite his tongue to keep from babbling at hyper speed, something he had not allowed himself to do since he was a first year back in his school days. Instead he took a steady, measured breath and began pulling several books from the shelf. Once he'd found the ones containing information he knew she should both need and want, and turned shoving the stack into her arms. "These," he said "are what you will require. Consider this your only reward for your undeniable diligence in your studies."

She blushed, attempting to cover it by bowing her head and attempting a small curtsy. She made a move to leave, trying to get around him. That same small voice he was desperate to be rid of suddenly took control of his body and forced him to remain still, blocking her path. She stopped, gazing up at him, confusion written on her face.

Oh no. . . ! was the only thought he found as he stared down at her—and directly down her shirt. She hadn't noticed (thank God!), but the stack of books she was carrying rested directly below her bust, pushing it upwards. This, combined with the top three buttons on her shirt being undone gave him a direct view of her alarmingly full (and deliciously enticing) bosom. I'm going to hell! Was the second thought that hit him, as his eyes wandered up to her face—her soft, utterly confused face. I'm going to faint first, was the final thought he had before he straighted up and moved, allowing her past.

Her look of confusion lessened, but didn't not leave her face entirely as she moved past him. She turned, giving him a quizzical look, then proceeded back the way they had come. He was just about to breath a little easier when she appeared again, the bloody bane of his existence! She popped her head around the corner of the bookshelf and asked, sounding more then a little sheepish. "Um, Professor?"

"Yes," He all but growled at her, not willing to look anywhere but an inch above her head.

"Um, well Sir, you didn't said whether I could take these with me, of I was to study them here. Which would you prefer?"

"What?" He said, scowling almost panting with the efforts of his warring mind and body. What was she on about now?

"Well Professor, if these are your personal books, then I would never take them without ensuring that is what you wished."

"Oh, yes, of course. Well, there are table and chairs here, but it is late so I will allow you to borrow the books for tonight. If you have not finished with them by tomorrow, speak with me after class we can arrange a study time after dinner."

She nodded and turned to leave. He suddenly remember something, "By the way, Miss. Granger." She turned, expectantly. "You are not to tell anyone where you got those books. I am not one to share my private collection with just anybody." She nodded, bowed as best she could considering the load she was carrying, and proceeded out the door and away from him.

Finally! He thought to himself, and slumped against the shelf, clutching at his suddenly pounding heart. What in the world was happening to him? Why was he being so irrational?! He had led her straight to his private collection! He had given her his book!! I must be loosing my mind, he decided finally, pushing himself upright, and delving deeper into the forest of bookcases until he reached a small, secret door which led—via magic—directly to his chambers. Without even bothering to undress, he flung himself on the bed. He needed sleep and a very cold shower.

Notes from the author

Oh would you look at that, a new chapter! shock and awe How novel. Anyway, I've gone through and done a pretty heavy overhaul on all previous chapters. They really didn't need those ANs anyway, now did they? At the beginning I mean.

Some things that would be helpful for those already started on the story: Chapter 1 now has some info about what I did to the canon, i.e. what I changed from reality. Also, Chapter 4 has an explanation about what's going on with the Head Boy/Head Girl problem brought up by Flame (thank you again for that! I'm always looking for constructive critique like that!).

Other then that, enjoy! I'm working on Chapter 6, and I hope to have it ready soon, but we all know that means absolutely nothing when it comes to me. Though I feel having a semi-well thought out and planned outline should at least count for something.

Cheers!

Notes to YOU!

Can be found at the end of Chapter 4, cheers!