Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Still.

Chapter 7

It's Miss Granger

Draco tried to hold the laugh at the back of his throat, but for once his control failed him. The look on Hermione Granger's face was priceless, and he wanted to commit it to memory. She looked as if she had swallowed a fly, a mix of confusion and excitement in one hideous facial expression. He couldn't help himself.

A glare from Snape made him cough and the laughter died, but the amusement in his eyes did not. "What's the matter Granger, cat got your tongue?"

She stepped forward, almost tripping over her own feet. "No." She replied meekly, ignoring him. Her eyes were focused on Snape. "You know?"

He didn't miss a heartbeat in replying. "Yes." She thought she detected a tinge of sadness in his voice, but the expression on his face suggested evidently that she was wrong.

"Oh."

There was a stony silence as she took a moment to accept the fact that someone else knew Draco rolled his eyes, leaning back against the desk behind him.

"How do you know?"

"Because I am the one who informed Dumbledore of the situation."

Hermione barely blinked. "What situation?"

Snape got up from his seat and ignored her question. "May I see the rings?"

Instinctively she stepped back, clasping her hands behind her back. "What situation?"

There was silence in the room again. No one wanted to break it.

Hermione kept her eyes fixed on Snape. Towering over her, he was imposing enough already without the sallow skin and lank, greasy hair. It was the look in his eyes that frightened her most. A look she didn't recognise.

She glanced quickly at Malfoy as her heart started to race. His sneer was gone, his face impassive. He was staring straight ahead, his arms folded tightly against his chest as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening. As if he were bored by it all.

"Professor," she pleaded, "what situation-"

"-Ring first, Mrs-"

"It's Miss Granger," she shot back before he could say Mrs Malfoy again. That was not, no matter what anyone said, her name.

He sighed impatiently and without waiting grabbed her left hand and held it tightly. As soon as his cold skin came in to contact with her own she felt a shiver of fear run down her spine, but his grip was strong and there was no way she could get out of it. "Do not forget who you are talking to, Miss Granger," Snape hissed as his eyes focused on the ring.

The examination was so brief it was over in seconds. Whatever he had been looking for he seemed to have found. Satisfied he nodded his head once, dropping her hand as if it were a piece of hot coal as soon as he'd finished.

"Well," he summised after inspecting the ring on Draco's finger as well, "this is certainly is a situation, isn't it." He seated himself behind his desk, pulling a draw open, "I need you both to take a single 25 ml measure of this potion once a day, everyday, if the spell is to remain intact. Failure to do so will put you both in danger."

He removed two sealed vials and set them on the desk. Each contained a brightly purple coloured liquid.

Questions of why were springing up in her head faster than she could think them through properly, but reason blocked her hopes from rising. "You're not going to tell us anything, are you?" Hermione accused as Malfoy took one of the vials from the desk.

"Oh Granger, do you have argue," Malfoy growled as he turned to face her. His eyes glittered dangerously and he was fast losing his cool. "Can't you just accept the fact that you're not going to be told what's going on. Get over it and stop acting like a spoiler brat."

Hermione had had enough. She couldn't just stand there with her most despised teacher and an insufferable Malfoy who seemed all too happy to do as he was told. "Obviously I'm not going to get any answers," she said bitterly. She grabbed the remaining vial from the desk and stormed out of the room.

Her shoes clicked loudly on the stone as she ascended the steps to the entrance hall. So Snape knew about their marriage too? Well that was just perfect. Hermione wondered how many more teachers knew about her predicament, desperately hoping that the answer was none. Why could they not understand her? Did they think she enjoyed the mystery of not knowing why she was married to the enemy?

The small vial of potion sloshed in her left hand and she instinctively closed her hand around it, trying to conceal it. Checking her watch, she considered trying to find Harry and Ron, but then thought against it. She stood in the entrance hall for a moment, deciding what to do. There was only half an hour until the start of dinner, and she didn't feel like sitting in the library. It was still light outside, and the idea of fresh air appealed to her after nearly two hours down in the dungeons.

Sounds of laughed echoed across from the Quidditch pitch and she spotted Harry's black messy hair as he zoomed above the pitch, answering her unasked question of what Harry and Ron were up to. She'd forgotten all about Quidditch practice. The team had their first match against Hufflepuff on Saturday. At least that was something to look forward to.

She settled under a tree next to the lake, pulling the vial out from up her sleeve. It was the most intense purple colour she had ever seen, beautiful almost as the sunlight caught it. She twirled the glass between her fingers thoughtfully. Snape said nothing about the nature of the

spell, or why the potion was needed to make it work, but Hermione had already decided that was going to try and figure it out herself.

"What's that?"

Hermione jumped and let out a yelp as Harry appeared suddenly from behind a tree, the vial almost slipping through her fingers. "Jesus, Harry. You scared me half to death!" she stammered when she found her voice.

"Sorry," he apologised, giving her a lopsided smile as he sat down next to her. "I thought you heard me coming. I snapped loads of twigs coming down here. What's that?" he asked again, nodding his head towards the purple potion.

She looked down at the vial in her hands, then quickly back at him. "Extra credit," she lied. "Snape thought I might enjoy the challenge of figuring out what this potion is, seeing as I like to speak up so much in class with my opinions. I came down here to try and think."

"Is that why he wanted to speak with you and Malfoy?" Harry inquired, picking up a stone from the ground and twiddling it in his hands.

Hermione nodded.

"What a jerk." He threw the stone and it landed with a plop in the lake. "He has no right to give you any more work when you've got enough on your plate."

Feeling horrible for having to lie about it, she dropped the vial into her pocket. "I don't think Professor Snape sees it that way. He doesn't care how big my caseload is, he just wants to make me miserable. How was practice?" she asked changing subject, watching him carefully as he picked up another stone off the ground.

He took a deep breath. "It was good," he said slowly as another stone landed in the lake.

Hermione waited patiently for him to elaborate. Something was obviously bothering him.

"The teams shaping up better than I thought we would. Ron and Ginny are both excellent as usual. The new chaser I told you about-"

"Michael Dewington?"

"Yeah, him. He's almost as good as Katie was and he's only in his third year, I think he's perfect for the position. And Jimmy and Ritchie have improved with the bludgers too. I think we're in with a strong chance to keep hold of the cup this year."

"Well, that's good right?"

He rested his hands on his knees. "Yeah, of course it is."

"But?" she prodded gently. She knew Harry well enough when there was something he needed to get off his chest.

He turned to look at her and shook his head. "But nothing. I'm just a bit distracted at the moment, that's all." He sighed, staring out to the lake for a long moment. When I'm up there on my broom, whether we're having a team practice or playing a match, it doesn't matter which, I feel like I can forget about everything that's going on in the real world and just play Quidditch because for a few minutes that all that matters to me is the game. It's like all of this," he emphasised with his hands, "doesn't exist." He paused. "Today was different though. It felt like I was in the game, but it wasn't the same. I couldn't fully concentrate on what wasn't going on, not like I usually do. It didn't all disappear from my mind, not even for a second. It scared me."

Hermione chewed on her lip. There was nothing she could really say to that. No one truly knew what it was like for him, to always have that burden of his shoulders, to constantly have to think about Voldemort.

"Harry," she said softly as she reached out and grasped his hand with hers, "it's going to be okay."

"You don't know that, Hermione."

"Yes I do," she stated firmly. "I do know that. I have to hope that everything will work out okay because what's the point of thinking that it won't? It just makes you miserable. I believe that you, that we, can defeat Voldemort. Please don't give up on us Harry."

He squeezed her hand. "I'm not giving up on anyone."

She smiled wryly. "That's not exactly what I meant."

"I know," he quipped. "We have to enjoy what time we have here, make the most of what we've got..."

"...no matter how hard or wrong it feels," she finished for him. "Why shouldn't we have fun? If it all ends tomorrow I'd rather enjoy today than worry about it. We can't do anything right now, we have to wait. I know it's hard for you, I honestly do, but until the time comes, try and not think about it too much. I know you will," she added as an afterthought, "but at least try."

"You're right," he said eventually.

A blissful silence fell over them as they sat and watched the sun begin to set in the sky. "Don't you think you should listen to your own advice?" Harry said as he stood up, offering his hand to her.

She stared at him funnily for a moment, not saying anything.

"I'm not an idiot Hermione. I may have been more distracted recently, but that doesn't mean I can't tell when something's going on with one my best friends." He pulled her to her feet, his green eyes burning into her brown ones. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing's going on with me," she replied as she straightened out her cloak, hoping she sounded honest. "I'm just worried about you."

"You're not telling me the truth. I know when you're lying." His concern stabbed her like a knife would.

Hermione started to walk back up to the castle, guilt flooding her as she tried to think of something to say. She couldn't tell him. She'd promised Dumbledore; keeping the marriage a secret was obviously very important. But if he kept asking her, she knew she'd crack.

He ran to catch up with her, grabbing her arm before she could get away.

"Harry," she pleaded, opening her mouth to say something else, shutting it just as quickly.

"Look, if you don't want to tell me what's bothering you, I'm not going to try forcing you too," he said diplomatically. "But don't think that I'm stupid. You're not eating properly, you look tired all the time and you haven't argued with Ron once since we've been back at school. That's not like you. I know you have a lot of pressure right now being Head Girl, but don't think you have to hide it from us. You don't have to pretend to be strong all the time. You're only human."

Hermione wasn't sure what to say, but she couldn't bear the thought that he was worrying over her when she couldn't tell him why.

She swallowed. "Harry, you have to trust me, there's nothing wrong. I'm stressed is all. Being Head Girl is harder than I thought it would be, and it doesn't help that Malfoy is Head Boy. It's just stress," she reiterated, hoping he believed her.

He didn't look convinced. "Has Malfoy done anything to you? Worse than usual?" he asked seriously.

She groaned inwardly, not wanting to talk or think about him at all. "No, he hasn't. He acts like I don't exist most of the time and I'm not complaining about that, it's better than being insulted and called mudblood all the time."

"Promise me if he does anything to upset you, anything at all, that you'll tell me or Ron about it. I don't like that you have to work with that son of a bitch."

I shouldn't have mentioned Malfoy, she thought glumly. Her stomach churned every time another person mentioned his name. The only response she could give was a reluctant nod of the head. Her lies were beginning to stack up.

"Let's talk about something else," she suggested as they meandered up the path. "Preferably something not related to Malfoy or Voldemort. We're supposed to be focussing on the good things in our lives right now, remember."

"As long as we don't have to talk about school work," Harry joked. "I know how much you like discussing that subject. Ow," he said rubbing the spot on his arm where she had just slapped him lightly.

"Don't even insult me with a 'that hurt' comment. I barely touched you."

They both laughed. Harry rested a friendly arm around her shoulders, his other hand in his pocket. "I'm thinking we should go and visit Hagrid after dinner. Now that we don't have Care of Magical Creatures anymore, we hardly see him. I think he misses the company."

"You're right," Hermione agreed as they climbed the steps to the entrance of the castle. "I feel terrible that we haven't made time for him yet. I have a tin of biscuits my mum gave me before I came back to school that we can give to him, I think he'll like them."

"And we get to keep our teeth if we eat those instead of Hagrid's cooking. Good thinking Hermione."

She beamed, not believing how happy she felt now in Harry's presence compared to how awful she felt earlier. There was hope that things could still be normal, and it wasn't as hard as she made it. I'm not lying, I just have a secret I can't share, she thought to herself. As long as she didn't forget it was a secret, she wouldn't feel bad for lying. It wasn't as if she had much choice.

"Come on," Hermione said eagerly, "let's find Ron and go have dinner. I'm ravenous."

~o~