A/N: This isn't what I would call a proper 'cliffhanger', but the next chapter will be the second part of this conversation if you want to wait to read them both at the same time.

Hermione skipped dinner that night, not feeling hungry or wanting to endure seeing anyone. She was lying on the grass outside when Snape found her, idly conjuring glowing bubbles she let float around in the air. Snape looked down at her for a long moment.

"Miss Granger," he said finally. "Come with me."

With a sigh, Hermione got to her feet and followed Snape inside, down into the dungeons and through the halls to his office.

To her surprise, there was already somebody there – Blaise Zabini was sitting in one of the wooden chairs. His eyes widened as he saw her come in, but he quickly turned away. Hermione went to her own chair, not looking at him; she refused to cry in front of them on principle.

Snape settled himself behind his desk, giving them both a long look as he steepled his fingers.

"It has been brought to my attention, Miss Granger, that your ring will give you an unfair advantage in the upcoming Potions unit," he said. "You have been accused of cheating."

Blaise stiffened next to her, and Hermione sat up straight, alarmed. Whatever she'd been expecting, it hadn't been this.

"Wait, what?" she said, her eyes wide. "Cheating? How?"

"You could theoretically use your ring to detect poisons, and thus, also detect if your antidote would be effective prior to actually testing it," Snape said, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't even know my ring could do that!" Hermione argued. "And if that's the case, why are only Blaise and I in here? Why not Harry and Susan too?"

"Not your coven ring, Miss Granger," Snape said exasperatedly. "Your other ring."

Blaise flinched next to her, and Hermione stared at Snape, not comprehending.

"…what 'other ring'?"

With a sigh, Snape gestured for her hands, and Hermione scooted forward, extending them to him. He took her hands for a moment, before nimbly removing a small, gold ring from her pinky finger – a ring Hermione had never seen before this very moment, or even had realized she had on.

"What—was that on me?" she wanted to know, astonished. "For how long? Professor Snape, I swear, I've never seen that ring before in my life—"

"Oh, I have no doubt of that, Miss Granger," Snape said dryly. "There's a powerful Notice-Me-Not on it. Though, I do wonder how someone managed to get it onto your finger without you noticing."

Blaise was turning steadily red next to her, and incredulous, Hermione turned to stare at him.

"Blaise…?" she ventured. "Did you…?"

Blaise still refused to look at her, his arms tightly crossed as he tapped his foot on the ground. Hermione turned back to Snape, holding her hand out, and Snape dropped the tiny ring into it. The pinky ring was gold with a ring of small diamonds in the middle.

"A Medici poison ring," Snape said, raising an eyebrow. "Made to detect and neutralize untraceable poisons. Though it looks to be much more in Alessandro's style than Catherine's."

"Okay, I get it, okay? Okay?!"

Blaise was suddenly on his feet, livid and yelling at Snape, and Hermione's jaw dropped. Snape, to his credit, just watched, something like triumph glittering in his dark eyes as Blaise lost his temper and all composure he had.

"—only ring I had, and do you know how hard these are to find? I've had my cousin trying to find one of Catherine's for months, now, but I couldn't just leave her unprotected in that time—"

"And you have reason to believe Miss Granger needs protection from unexpected, fatal poisoning?" Snape inquired silkily.

"She's on the Wizengamot and trying to change the world," Blaise shot back. "I expect that there are a lot of people around who don't like that."

"Fair enough." Snape inclined his head. "So then, to defend your friend, you… snuck into her bedchamber and put a secret ring on her finger without telling her?"

To Hermione's surprise, Blaise went scarlet.

"I had Tracey do it," he admitted, looking away.

"Ah, of course, that makes it much better," Snape said dryly.

"I had to!" Blaise snapped. "I couldn't just give her jewelry with diamonds on it! That has meaning, you know."

"Blaise," Hermione said, looking at him. She stared at him, but he refused to look at her. "Blaise, why didn't you just tell me? You know I'm practical – I would have understood the true meaning behind it—"

Blaise refused to look at her, his eyes red as he glared at the floor.

"Because it does have meaning, still," Blaise muttered. "Traditions mean things. That's why I had Tracey do it." He paused, testing his words. "…and… I thought you'd refuse and give it back."

"Refuse it?" Hermione repeated, confused. "Why? This is incredibly thoughtful and practical—"

"I believe," Snape cut in, eyes glinting, "that Mister Zabini is referring to the fact that this is his ring, and that you would not want to take his ring from him, thus leaving him unprotected from poisons."

Hermione's jaw dropped.

"This is yours?" she breathed. "Blaise—why? You—you need this way more than I do. I've seen your boggart—"

"Because that doesn't matter!" Blaise was furious again suddenly, on his feet. His eyes met hers for the first time in days, the dark orbs flashing with emotion and anger. "I can handle my mother – I don't care about her; I care about protecting you. How else am I supposed to help you when you're off investigating poisoned land without telling me beforehand, coughing up toxins afterwards? How am I supposed to protect you from these situations you keep getting yourself into, when you don't tell me everything? How am I supposed to help?"

"You do help," Hermione protested. "I tell you more than I tell anyone else—"

"Then why is it I only find out afterward that you've done something risky and stupid again?" Blaise shot back. "I'm always there in the aftermath, helping patch you back together, instead of being there at your side while it happens so I can protect you!"

"Blaise, I'm—I'm capable of taking care of myself," Hermione said, staring at him. "Why do you feel like you have to protect me?"

"Because I care!" Blaise was yelling now, and to her astonishment, his eyes were wet and red. "Because I care about you, Hermione, and I don't want you getting yourself blown up like Luna's mum because you didn't take two seconds to be careful!"

Blaise's energy seemed to run out of him, and he slumped back into his chair. He wouldn't look at her, and he was fussing with his sleeves.

"I was so scared," he said finally, his voice quiet. "Hermione, I was so scared. You were having fits and screaming, and your last words had been 'keep ahold of me Blaise, and don't let go'. I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing, no idea how to help…" He wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, almost impatiently, like he was frustrated with his face for leaking tears. "I thought you might die in my lap, or your mind shattered while I held you in my arms."

"But that was never a danger," Hermione said, glancing quickly at Snape, who was watching them silently, his eyes glittering at them over steepled fingers. "We had seen what happened with Millie—"

"Millie wasn't offering her psyche as a battleground," Blaise shot back.

Hermione gave Snape a wary glance, and Snape's eyes narrowed.

"Oh no," Snape said curtly. "Your little spat has grown big enough your classmates are interfering and turning you in. You are resolving this now."

"I'll watch my words," Blaise promised. He paused, taking a couple unsteady breaths as he looked at Snape's desk. "I just… it really scared me, Hermione. I know you're going to do what you want, it's not like you're not going to take risks, but it just seemed so foolhardy and rushed, and I didn't know what to do to help." He sighed. "I don't want you getting hurt."

Hermione looked at him in silence for a long moment.

"And yet," she said finally, "you not speaking to me this week hurt most of all."

Blaise flinched.

"I apologized for Friday," Hermione went on. "I apologized over and over and over again. I've been miserable all week." She bit her lip, trying to keep the wobble out of her voice. "If you were so upset or so worried, why didn't you just talk to me?"

"I just—" Blaise broke off, rubbed his eyes, and tried again. "I was upset. I needed to time to myself to process everything," he said. "Like. I know I was overreacting, and I was trying to deal with it all and calm down so I wouldn't end up snapping and yelling and—well, basically everything that just happened."

A weak laugh escaped Hermione.

"I wanted to calm down before trying to talk to you," Blaise said, sighing. "I was still really mad. I wanted to have my head clear before trying to talk to you about what all happened."

"So you wouldn't yell?" Hermione asked.

"That, and to sort out my emotions so I'd be able to find my words." Blaise finally turned to look at her, his eyes dark but less wet now, though they were still red. "…you can be hard to talk to sometimes, Hermione," he said finally, and Hermione recoiled as if she'd been struck.

"I can?" she said weakly. "How? I—I've always tried to be down to earth and approachable—"

"No, no, not like that," Blaise said quickly, alarmed. "You are, Hermione—you do a really good job of being open to new ideas and feedback. And no one's scared of you or anything, I promise—"

"Then why?" Hermione felt like wailing. "You're in my coven, Blaise, and you still felt like you couldn't talk to me?"

"I believe," Snape interjected, eyes glittering over steepled hands, "Mister Zabini may be referring to your more feminine methods of intimidation."

Hermione looked at him incredulously, not understanding, and Snape sneered.

"It is not uncommon at this age to see some students begin to peel away from their peers," Snape said. "As everyone's magical ability and power grows exponentially, the older you get, the larger the difference between people." He paused, considering his words. "There is an… allure, to powerful people, Miss Granger, one that draws in others like a moth to flame. I believe Mr. Zabini is referring to you having reached that point."

Hermione stared.

"…so I'm magically attractive and intimidating?" she said finally.

Snape's lips twitched. "To your weaker peers, it's very likely."

This was the first time Hermione had heard of such a thing. 'Magically attractive'… though, she supposed everyone was attracted to strength and power. So now magic was just another axis to measure that on? Was that it? Maybe that was how Voldemort had gathered so many followers so easily – he'd been doing large, difficult acts of magic – of Dark magic, even, and Hermione knew how compelling and seductive Dark magic could be…

Blaise's face was red.

"It's not quite like that," he muttered. "I mean, yeah, okay, part of it is that, but just…"

He trailed off, throwing his hands up in frustration, and Hermione bit her lip.

"…would a dampener amulet help?" she ventured. "I know where I could borrow one—"

"A dampener amulet?" Snape cut in, his voice skeptical. "Those are very difficult to get a hold of, Miss Granger. I doubt anyone would just give you one."

"No, they would," Hermione said with certainty. She looked at Blaise. "Fleur's isn't working for her anymore since she came of age, so I bet she'd loan it to me—"

"Wait, what?" Blaise said, looking up at her in confusion. "Fleur? Why's she have a dampener amulet?"

"The why doesn't matter, does it? If Beauxbatons is coming in a month for the tournament, I could get it then—"

"If I might interrupt?"

Hermione and Blaise both looked up at Snape.

"I would not recommend wearing a dampener amulet," Snape told Hermione, meeting her eyes directly. "It will affect your magic and class performance."

"Oh," Hermione said, faltering. "I—I didn't realize that."

"Mister Zabini," Snape said, turning to him. "If you are truly finding it so difficult to be articulate around your friend, I'm sure you're aware that there are ways to… make that easier and help you 'clear your head'."

Blaise turned red, but Hermione barely noticed, caught on a different idea.

"Oh! Like we could try magical exercising together!" Hermione said, clapping her hands in excitement. "If you got stronger too, the gap would be less, right? So it'd be easier—"

"I think Mister Zabini will be okay without a training protocol," Snape cut in, eyes glittering. "I believe he understands his issue enough now to… take things well in hand."

Blaise turned even redder. Hermione looked at him quizzically, feeling like she had missed something.

"In the meantime," Snape said smoothly. "Miss Granger, please refrain from wearing your Medici poison ring to class during this unit. Mister Zabini, twenty points from Slytherin for yelling at a professor—"

That was letting him off extremely lightly, and Hermione and Blaise both knew it.

"—and the two of you need to make sure this spat is entirely resolved by your next Potions class," Snape finished, giving them a sharp look. "Do I make myself clear?"

Hermione and Blaise both nodded.

"Then you're dismissed."

Hermione stood, as did Blaise, and after a moment, Blaise offered her his hand, his eyes meeting hers.

"Come on," he murmured. "We've got a little while before curfew, right?"

Relief and warmth blossomed in Hermione's heart.

"We do," she said, and she took his hand, following him out.