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Power in All Its Glory

Chapter 8: Twists and Turns

Hermione walked determinedly to Potions class, a smile on her face.

"Mione." Ron was walking beside her and noticed her strange expression. "You're on your way to Potions and you're smiling. What's up?"

Still smiling Hermione turned to him. "I'm just thinking about the weekend." She explained. "I'm looking forward to going to Hogsmeade tomorrow. Not even Potions class can ruin my mood."

Satisfied with her answer, Ron's thoughts turned to the upcoming Quidditch match. He was on the team, and they were playing Ravenclaw next week.

Hermione returned to her own thoughts. How different everything seemed in just one day. Yesterday, she had been depressed and angry about everything. She hadn't seen Snape until dinner, and then he had avoided looking at her. Although she knew he had good reason to avoid her, it had still hurt. She had thought all evening that she might get a message or an owl from Snape but nothing came.

She hadn't slept well. She had a nightmare about being expelled from Hogwarts and facing a disappointed Professor McGonagall, who then turned into her father, who then turned into Snape.

"You silly little girl," he had admonished her harshly. "Did you really think I could care for you?"

She had woken in a sweat. Nevertheless, something good had come of it all. In the early hours of the morning (she couldn't get back to sleep) Hermione had come up with a plan. She thought it over carefully.

It was perfect, faultless.

She would not be expelled, and Snape would be cleared and That Evil Bastard (as she had so eloquently named their tormentor) would not get any more satisfaction from their pain. TEB would not be able to torment them further.

She felt better than she had in weeks.

Hermione rushed eagerly into the Potions classroom. She couldn't wait to see Professor Snape. She wondered if she would get a chance to tell him her plan.

******

The Potions master strode into the classroom, his robes billowing impressively around him. He gave the seventh year students their potions assignment and stood in the front of the class, waiting for the perfect opportunity.

He had decided the easiest and least dangerous way of getting a message to Hermione was to slip a note to her during class. He had considered sending her an owl but was afraid it would be intercepted.

His dark eyes noticed everything as he surveyed the room. He saw Hermione sneak little glances at him. She could not hide the smile on her lips. He scowled. He wondered what the foolish girl was up to now.

The students were all coming to the final stages of the potion when he decided to make his move. He slowly walked around the classroom, checking each student's progress. No one suspected anything as this was his usual habit.

He noticed Hermione whispering instructions to Mr. Longbottom and he smiled inwardly. So predictable, Miss Granger. He walked slowly and quietly to stand beside her. She was turned toward Neville and didn't see him.

"Miss Granger," he said smoothly.

She jumped in her seat and turned guiltily toward him.

"Professor," she said breathlessly. He noticed she looked flushed. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Concentrate on your own work, Miss Granger and leave Mr. Longbottom alone."

"Yes, sir," she replied looking down.

Snape looked over at Neville. Flustered by the close proximity of the Potions master, the boy started to add the gillyweed before the dragon's blood. Hermione, following Snape's gaze, also noticed the potential mistake.

"No, Nev…" she started but was interrupted by Professor Snape.

"Miss Granger," he snarled.

She turned to face him as a loud explosion came from where Neville was working.

The entire class turned their attention to the smoking cauldron. Professor Snape took advantage of the distraction caused by the hapless boy. He slipped his hand from the pocket of his robe. A note was folded neatly between his long fingers. As the class's attention was drawn toward Neville, Snape leaned forward, presumably to see what damage was done. He leaned over the table and Miss Granger since Neville was on the other side of her.

Unnoticed, Snape moved his hand toward her. He briefly contemplated whether he should just drop the note in her lap. An image of her standing up and the note falling to the floor unnoticed helped him decide what to do next. Without any further hesitation, Snape slipped the note in between her closed legs. His fingers brushed the silky skin as he moved them forward to make sure the note was secure. For a brief second the urge to move his fingers further still, threatened to overcome him. He quickly left the note and withdrew his fingers.

He heard a gasp from Miss Granger at his touch. Luckily for them, it was drowned out by the laughter of the class over Neville's latest disaster.

It all happened in an instant as he stood and yelled at the class for silence. He scowled fiercely at Neville as he silently thanked him for his timely ineptness. He avoided looking at Hermione. He hoped she would wait until the safety of her room before reading the note.

The rest of the class passed uneventfully, and Snape watched as the students trudged out the door and on to their next class.

Snape could not resist looking at Hermione. Her eyes met his and a slight smile played on her lips. He narrowed his eyes and spoke to her.

"Do not dawdle, Miss Granger. I'm sure you have classes to attend to."

His voice was harsh. They could not be too careful. Someone could be watching.

Someone was watching.

Neville did not miss this brief exchange between the two. He was torn between satisfaction at his plan working so well, and jealousy at the admiration she obviously felt for the older man.

****

Hermione wandered into the Great Hall for dinner. She was glad classes were over. She had been distracted during her History of Magic class. She reached into her pocket and felt the note residing there. She would have to wait until after dinner to read it. Although she was dying to know what it said, she also wanted to put it off as long as she could. It was like reading the end of a really good book. She wanted to savor every minute.

It was funny, she thought, how something so awful could bring them together. Even though she feared what could happen to them she was enjoying all the attention from Professor Snape. She knew she was being a silly little girl but she couldn't help it.

Another thought was pecking at her mind, threatening to break through. Hermione pushed it further into her subconscious. She could not remember exactly what it was but she knew she couldn't deal with it now. Time enough for that later, when she was alone.

As soon as dinner was over Hermione rushed to her room. The boys tried to delay her but she told them she had lots of homework to catch up on.

"But Mione," they had protested, "it's Friday night!"

"We will be in Hogsmeade tomorrow and I won't get any done then," she reasoned with them.

In the end, they let her go. They always did. All she had to do was start in on how they should be doing more homework … that usually did the trick.

Hermione settled herself on her bed. She had a cup of tea on her nightstand. Everything was ready. The note was lying on the bed waiting to be read. Oh, for Merlin's sake, she admonished herself. Just open the damn thing.

So, she did.

H

Meet me tomorrow at the old bookstore on the corner next to the Hogshead. 4:00 pm. We need to talk.

S

She read the note over and over trying to memorize every stroke. Suddenly the paper shredded into tiny pieces and then disappeared.

Good thing she had memorized the message, she thought. Just like Snape to get rid of any evidence.

Hermione had to admit to herself that she was a little disappointed at the content of the note. Not that she had expected a love letter, or anything.

He was so business like, though. That shouldn't surprise you, she told herself. Snape had never treated her any differently. Even when they were both half-naked in his bedroom, he had treated her like his student.

Every once in awhile, though, she thought she had seen something in his eyes. She just couldn't be sure since she had nothing to base it on. When a boy liked her, it was obvious by the open stare and goofy smile. With Snape, it was different. He sometimes looked at her with such an intense gaze that it made her feel nervous and excited at the same time.

She thought about tomorrow. She would have to separate herself from her friends but that was no problem. They hated going into bookstores with her.

Snape was very shrewd, she thought. Of course, she reminded herself, he was a spy.

Later that night, as Hermione lay in bed, the thought that had been dancing at the edge of her mind, just out of reach, surfaced.

Snape had touched her. His fingers had grazed the inside of her thighs. As she allowed herself the luxury of reliving that moment, she immersed herself in the sensations that followed.

Although Hermione had had boyfriends in the past, her sexual experience had been limited.

Nothing had prepared her for this. Of course, she had fantasized (and even dreamed) about what it would be like for Snape to touch her. However, her imagination was a pale comparison to the actual feeling of those long fingers stroking the inside of her thighs.

Fleetingly, she remembered that it had been necessary for him to touch her, and that it probably did not mean anything to him. She roughly pushed those thoughts away. There was time enough for that kind of thinking later.

Right now, she would enjoy the new and exciting feelings his touch had incited.

*****

Draco Malfoy hesitated before the door of his professor. He knew he was taking a chance by coming but he had to talk to her. He had to know if anything had happened between them. He shuddered at that thought. What had his life been reduced to?

He resolutely knocked on the wooden door. It was answered quickly.

"Mr. Malfoy. It is so good to see you again." She smiled at him warmly. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was around, Professor Trelawney ushered the young Slytherin into her chambers.