Disclaimer: It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.

A/N: Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! : :hugs: :

Chapter 8: Mystery

Hermione had spent a very peaceful weekend. Actually, it had been too peaceful. She'd gone shopping in wizarding and Muggle Paris, had visited one of the most wonderful libraries in Europe, but had done all of that alone. She missed her friends, her colleagues... she even missed Snape! With nothing else to think about, the mystery of the ring was consuming her overactive brain.

Hermione wanted Snape to answer her questions. Why was he avoiding them? What could he be hiding from her? She'd discarded all dark curses by now. If the ring was indeed cursed, he would have told her what the curse was, if only to scare her enough to send it to him. So, if it was simply a Claddagh Ring, what did he want with it?

Try as she might, Hermione couldn't place Snape and a ring such as that in the same situation. If he wasn't Snape, though, she would think he'd been the owner of this ring. Claddagh Rings were gifted as a sign of friendship and love. She knew Snape had loved Harry's mother, but they had parted when they were still at school and Lily had never responded to his affections. Or had she? Harry said she hadn't, so Hermione would take it for granted.

But if the ring wasn't Snape's, then it could only have been Voldemort's.

Hermione always shuddered at this thought, but she forced herself to analyze the possibility. If the Claddagh Ring had been Voldemort's, what could Snape possibly want with it? Hermione knew he'd been working all along to bring down the evil wizard, so it wasn't a need for a memorabilia of the sort Bellatrix would strive for. Then maybe it was cursed and he'd been telling the truth all along.

Why couldn't he simply tell her? It was frustrating.

Hermione fell asleep with thoughts of the ring and Snape, and woke up sweating from a nightmare of the day she'd watched him die. It hadn't been the first time she'd dreamed of it, but she'd gone without this specific nightmare for a long while, maybe longer than a year.

She cursed Snape for messing with her dreams, and got ready for the day of work. This week she would spend with the Aurors-in-training to observe how they were prepared to fight and to add to their training with techniques they might not be familiar with.

She went to the hotel restaurant to eat breakfast, and with her meal, the waiter brought a letter. She was so immersed in the whole mystery that she couldn't wait until after she'd had her meal to open it.

Miss Granger,

What can you possibly feel for a piece of cheap metal that could be more meaningful for you than safety and science? It's not even a gift from your moron friends Potter and Weasley. It's only junk you found in an abandoned house, a site of war. This would be reason enough to believe it's cursed. To think that I really believed you had more brains than the rest of them.

Name your price and leave out the morality lessons. Save them for those who appreciate your insight.

Severus Snape

Hermione harrumphed. As if she would spend her time and strength trying to teach the ruder man she knew some good grace. Snape was entirely too insufferable a man.

But this last attack would have an answer to match. Hermione folded the letter with ill grace and shoved it into her satchel. She ate her now cold breakfast without care for what she was putting into her mouth. In her mind, she cursed Snape for questioning her attachment to the ring. If she didn't want to part with it, she had her reasons, no matter what he believed. But worse than doubting her words and feelings, for she would always expect that of Snape, he was ignoring her questions.

She was starting to feel sick to her stomach just remembering the man. She pushed the plate aside and left the small table. Before going to the Apparition point, though, she went back up her hotel room and grabbed the ring. Today she would be wearing it.

Call it petulance, but Snape had asked for it. Even if he couldn't see her defying him, it felt good; she felt good.

Later, worn out from the day's exercise, Hermione, calmer than she'd been in the morning, reread Snape's letter more carefully before preparing her answer. There were some details that had escaped her attention in the heat of her indignation, but now intrigued her to no end.

If he thought he could get away with avoiding her questions, he was much mistaken.

Before bed that Monday, Hermione sent her letter through a rented owl. It would be the last one she would be sending to Snape if he chose to ignore her again.

Coming next… Snape makes a risky decision after a conversation about toast.