A/N: Well, I'm cutting it close, but I did manage to get an update complete this weekend! WooT! Thanks to those who wished me luck on my exams - they were definitely worse than expected and I've had to spend sometime arguing with one of my professors to win credit back for the class. I knew I was completely in the right, but the whole time I kept hearing Professor Snape shouting, "Twenty points from Gryffindor for verbally attacking a teacher!" I really am a nerd...but a bad-ass nerd who actually gets her professor to apologize to the entire class.
I am super excited to see this story on the favorites list of 200 people! That is fantastic!
As always, I try to respond to every review, but I apologize to those of you leaving unsigned reviews and those of you with PM-ing blocked. I'm thankful for you leaving them, even if I can't respond!
Muchas gracias to hnwhitlock2000, HPFanGirl01, Startled Boris, woodshark, jforston, Mortania Hottersander, Odile1001, Lover of Fantasy, Sev01, DedicatedReader, Lyra Lupin, Angelwells, ineverdothis, silverrose29, callalily32, Mel, Coolnetta, Potter-Watcher, Stacy Vorosco, fjums, Tilly, and memorieslost05!
And thank you to all of you who stopped by my other Harry Potter fic, Misfortunes in Spying.
Bound to Him
Chapter 23
"Oi, Gin!" Ron called out to his sister as he and Harry took their places at breakfast. "You heard anything from Hermione yet?"
The slender redhead shook her head as she picked up a piece of toast. "No, have you?"
"We thought we'd sneak out early and stop by the Hospital Wing before breakfast," Harry answered, "but no such luck."
"She wasn't there?" Ginny asked with a raised brow.
"Dunno," he answered with a shrug. "We never made it inside."
"Yeah," Ron added morosely. "Snape was lurking in the hallway, being the same old righteous git he always is."
Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes. "How many points?"
"What d'you mean, 'how many points?' You think I can't even make it to breakfast on the first day of class without losing points?" he demanded with an offended expression written upon his face.
"Ron, it's Snape we're talking about," Harry responded. "Of course she does."
"Oh, true that," the redheaded boy nodded. "In that case...ten."
"Ugh," Ginny groaned. "Classes haven't even started yet, and Gryffindor's already behind."
"Well, if you haven't noticed," Harry stated, reaching for a plate of bacon. "This happens every year. At least every year we've been here."
Ron nodded enthusiastically as he dumped half the platter of eggs onto his plate. "And it's usually Snape being a git that's to blame."
Harry snickered as he dished up his own serving of eggs. "Of course."
"Absolutely nothing to do with you," Ginny returned with a mocking shake of her head. "Never stole a car, or destroyed school property, or anything -"
"Oh shut it," her brother interrupted. "I didn't mean we didn't deserve any of it. Just that Snape, er..."
"..overindulges a bit in the point taking," Harry finished, earning a shrug and a nod from the girl.
"You know, it's weird," Ron suddenly exclaimed.
"What is?" Harry asked.
"There isn't anyone saying, 'It's Professor Snape, Ronald.' I didn't think I'd miss that," he said pensively.
Ginny rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the fourth year girl seated on her other side.
"But don't tell her I said that," Ron quickly covered. "Don't wanna encourage her any more than we need to."
"Never," Harry agreed.
"In fact," Ron continued. "I'd rather have Snape take away more points before I'd admit that to her."
"That's Professor Snape to you, Mr. Weasley," a voice stated coolly from behind him.
Harry smirked and chocked back a laugh as Ron jumped at Professor McGonagall's sudden appearance.
"Sorry, Professor," he mumbled.
"Mmm-hmm," McGonagall responded with a disapproving glance. She quickly shuffled through her stack of schedules before pulling out the correct pieces of parchment. As she handed each schedule to its respective owner, she raised a brow and fixed them each with a pointed look. "And don't you two think for just one minute that I didn't notice the hourglass this morning."
"Sorry, Professor," the two boys sheepishly muttered in unison.
"See to it that you rectify that," she instructed.
"No worries, Professor," Harry answered.
"Yeah," Ron nodded. "Hermione'll make it up in no time."
The Gryffindor Head snorted as she handed Ginny her schedule and then moved on along the table.
Harry reached for his glass of pumpkin juice and took a sip as he glanced down at his schedule.
"Oi!" Ron shouted two seconds later as he suddenly found himself enjoying a pumpkin juice shower. "What the hell, Harry?"
"Sorry," he said quickly. "But you'll never believe this."
"Believe what?" the redhead asked, reaching to take the sheet of parchment from him and shaking loose a few drops of juice. After scanning the page for a second, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "No way. You're in Potions? How did that happen?"
"No idea," Harry shook his head. "I mean, I only got an 'E' on my Potions OWL. I thought he only let in 'O' students."
"That's barkers, mate," Ron stated, quickly checking over his own schedule and breathing a sigh of relief when the word Potions did not appear. "What is Snape thinking?"
"I dunno. He seemed rather pleased to get rid of me, I thought."
"Right," Ron nodded. "Maybe he realized that without you in class, he wouldn't meet his torture quota."
"Lovely," Harry muttered, angrily spearing his eggs with a fork. "The morning's really looking up now, isn't it?"
Ron shrugged and gave him a sympathetic look. "Well, at least you could partner up with Hermione. Might not be so bad. And you won't have to worry about Neville blowing the place up anymore."
"That is something," the spectacled boy declared with a grin.
X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X
Snape took in a deep breath as he straightened his cuffs and brushed a few stray ginger hairs from his robes. With a small nod to the remaining members of the staff table, he rose silently from his chair and stepped down from the dais. As he made his way towards his dungeon classroom, he gave an unspoken word of gratitude to whichever deity was currently on duty. He knew that Miss Granger was still in the midst of a peaceful slumber, and subsequently his thoughts would remain his own until she finally awoke.
Hopefully, she would remain asleep for a few more hours. Her brain needed all of the rest it could muster if she were to maintain an cover of normalcy in front of the students and staff. At the same time, he needed as much of a respite from her thoughts as he could get if he were to make it through the day without killing anyone.
As if to provide evidence to that argument, his quiet trek to the dungeons was interrupted by the reverberations of voices raised in anger. Severus immediately scowled and quickened his pace, soon rounding the corner to witness Draco Malfoy and the Potter brat in the midst of a heated exchange of words. From their body language, he surmised they were about two seconds away from drawing their wands. The other gathered students, instead of doing anything to defuse the situation or, Merlin forbid, going for help, were whispering amongst each other and standing around wearing wide-eyed expressions of nervous excitement.
Snape inwardly groaned before hardening his expression and stepping into the fray. "Enough!"
Both boys startled at his appearance, and while Potter's face further reddened in anger, Draco's mouth twisted upwards in a self-assured smirk.
"Professor," the blonde addressed him sweetly. "Potter was speaking ill of my family. I couldn't just stand by while spread such lies."
"They aren't lies, Malfoy!" Harry shouted. "I was there! Your father is -"
"One more word, Potter, and you'll spend this evening - and every other evening this month - in detention." Snape watched as the rage contorted through the Chosen One's body. Wisely, the boy slammed his jaw shut and chose to let his anger dissipate silently.
"In!" Severus barked as the door to the classroom swung open. When the collection of Advanced Potions students had all entered the room and began taking their seats, he slammed the door shut and stalked to the front of the classroom, all the while cursing Minerva, the Dark Lord, and himself - everyone who made it necessary for the boy to still be in his constant presence.
"Now, Mr. Potter," he sneered as he turned to face the students. "Since you claim to be so knowledgeable, please do enlighten us as to the nature of the Beluviadonin Draught."
Harry grit his teeth and looked as though he wished to stare a hole through the table.
"Nothing? Well then, surely in your infinitesimal wisdom, you must know which healing potion is capable of reversing the effects of the Draught of Living Death."
Again, he was met only with an irate stare from the boy. A few sniggers could be heard from the handful of Slytherins present. His own anger flared unexpectedly when he heard the comment Draco hissed under his breath.
"Where's your pet mudblood when you need it, eh, Potty?"
"Mr. Malfoy!" Snape called, using all the energy he had to reign in his desired outburst. "Perhaps you could answer one of the questions presented to Mr. Potter."
Draco's eyes narrowed only momentarily in surprise before he opened his mouth to respond, "The Wiggenweld Potion can counteract it, sir."
"Five points to Slytherin." Severus returned the blonde's smirk, though in his mind, he received immense pleasure from throttling the hell out of him. He turned his attention back to the dark-haired boy, trying to avoid the green eyes that would judge him harshly whether from behind glasses or long auburn bangs. "Today's potion should not prove difficult to those of you who... belong in this class. Mr. Potter, do inform the rest of us as to which potion can be found on page eighty-four of your textbook."
"I -I don't have a textbook, sir," Harry answered after a few seconds.
Snape raised his eyebrows in contempt. "Ten points, Potter, for not having the required course materials."
"But I didn't even know I was to be in this class!" Harry argued.
"Care to make it twenty?" The older wizard pushed, staring the boy into defeat. "Macmillan! The potion on page eighty-four?"
X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X
Hermione awoke to the sound of birds chirping. Wrinkling her nose and propping open one eyelid, she quickly checked for the source of the noise. A few seconds passed before she recognized that she was still lying on the couch in Professor McGonagall's quarters. Finally forcing herself to open both eyes, she stretched her back as she sat up.
When the mental fog of the Dreamless Sleep potion finally cleared, she realized Malina was perched upon the mantelpiece, flicking her tail as she stared closely at a delicate porcelain clock.
Ah, that would explain the chirping, I suppose. Hermione squinted as she attempted to read the time from her seat on the couch.
"One o'clock?" she gasped in disbelief. Her eyes grew large as she pulled her hair back behind her shoulders. "Good thing she excused me from my classes."
The black cat momentarily glanced in her direction before returning to its vigil at the timepiece.
Shaking her head, Hermione threw back the covers and climbed off of the couch. She quickly set about to folding up the blankets and stacking them neatly into a pile with the pillow before transfiguring the couch back to its original shape. When she was satisfied that everything had been returned to its rightful space, she slunk into the bathroom to get ready for the day.
A short while later, she returned to the sitting room with her pajamas and freshly-laundered school uniform in hand. She paused briefly to throw on her school robes over her t-shirt and jeans and then stepped towards the fireplace.
"Thank you," she smiled, giving Malina a hearty scratch behind the ears. "I'm sure Crooks was happy to have the night off."
Hermione watched as the cat stretched, then hopped down from the mantel and disappeared into what she assumed was Professor McGonagall's bedroom. With a quick shrug, she minimized her pile of clothing and stuck it in the pocket of her robes. The half-empty vial of Dreamless Sleep was still sitting on the end table along with a sheet of parchment that undoubtedly contained her official class schedule. She snatched up each of these items and pocketed them before walking towards the door. She glanced about the room for a moment before slipping out into the hallway.
Thankfully, nearly the entire student body was sitting through a class presently. Next to no one chose to skive off the first day of classes, and those that did would hardly be standing about in the corridor waiting to be caught by a passing staff member. Hermione breathed a soft sigh of relief over this as she calmly made her way back to Gryffindor Tower. She would see her friends surely at supper, if not briefly between their classes, so for now, she would enjoy the short stretch of time to herself.
"Oooh, you're back early," the Fat Lady crowed as Hermione reached her portrait. "Not skiving off are we?"
"No," the girl answered tersely. Well, yes...but you can stuff it.
The Fat Lady raised an eyebrow, but said nothing besides, "Password?"
Hermione supplied the correct phrase and, as soon as the portrait swung open, quickly slipped through the hole into the common room. The room was as empty as it had been every day for the past two weeks, but now was different. She no longer felt the haunting loneliness it had held before - instead the room seemed lived-in. She gave a small quiver of a smile as she made her way towards the stairs into the girl's dormitory.
The same feeling extended into the Prefects' bedroom. Mathina and Ginny were not physically in the room, but it was as though she could sense their energies. The room was no longer her own private sanctuary - and part of her was glad of that. It would make it easier to look past the sorrow and pain that had afflicted her recently. There was a sense of normalcy that had descended back upon the room, and Hermione hoped the same could soon be said about her personal life.
Shivering slightly, she pushed those thoughts aside and moved quickly to her third of the room. Emptying her pockets onto her bed, she quickly stowed the glass vial in the drawer of her bedside table and then resized the clothing before stuffing the pajamas beneath her pillow. Hermione gave a long sigh as she regarded the clothing she had been wearing the day before.
She chewed on her bottom lip and shifted nervously, trying not to associate them with everything that had happened the previous night. A few minutes' contemplation had her shaking her head and yanking the tainted outfit from the bedcovers. She strode over to the small fireplace in the corner of the room and cast a quick Incendio. When the flames steadied, Hermione callously tossed the skirt and blouse on top of the fire and watched as they slowly blackened and withered beyond recognition.
Wiping her hands on her robes, she turned back towards her bed. She climbed onto the middle of the mattress and brushed away a collection of fine ginger hairs. Frowning, she visually searched the entire room for any further sign of her familiar. At seeing none, she gave a small grunt and decided he must be out hunting. Considering the mystery of the missing Crookshanks to be solved, Hermione began to study the schedule she had been given. Today was Wednesday, and as such, she had already missed the practical portion of Advanced Potions and a Charms lecture. Glancing at the clock beside her bed, she realized Herbology was already half over, but if she wanted to, she could still make the Arithmancy lesson which started at three-thirty.
Hermione wrinkled her nose at the idea. She normally loved the class, but the thought of staring at a bunch of numbers and magical variables for the rest of her afternoon just did not sound appealing in the least. Besides, she had been given the day off to get her head back together - it probably would be a bad idea to waste what little buffer time she had.
No, tomorrow morning's Defense lesson will come soon enough. Flopping back against her pillows, Hermione continued scanning through her schedule. It was with a great sense of relief that she noted she would not have another Potions class until Monday's lecture hour. Four days would give her enough time to pull it together enough to face him in class.
Hopefully, at least. Hermione sighed as she lifted herself from her bed and stepped over to her desk. She pinned her schedule to the edge of her bookshelf with a temporary sticking charm, and then pulled out her Charms and Herbology texts before making her way back down to the common room to wait for her friends to return.
X x x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X
"Well, at least she didn't predict your demise yet," Ron shrugged as he and Harry stepped through the portrait hole.
"Yet," Harry muttered darkly. "Only a matter of time."
"Hey," Ron gestured to one of the sofas where Hermione lounged, seemingly lost within one of her textbooks. "Back to normal, you think?"
The other boy gave a mournful expression. "Is there really a normal anymore?"
"Hermione!" Ron called out, ignoring his friend's sudden turn of melancholy. After spending a good portion of the summer watching him grieve for his godfather, Ron had become quite immune to Harry's constantly changing emotions.
At the sound of her name, Hermione's eyes snapped up from the page and fixed onto her friends. She gave a small, forced smile and let the cover of the book fall shut. She did not care if she lost her page, seeing as she had spent a good portion of the past two hours staring at the same sentence.
Ron moved over to the side of the couch, and she pulled her legs beneath her so he could take a seat beside her. He fixed her with a concerned expression. "Are you alright?"
She merely nodded in response, not quite yet trusting her ability to do so verbally. She had not meant to dwell on thoughts regarding her situation with Snape, but she had only managed to avoid them for a very short amount of time. Apparently it had been a mistake to attempt the Herbology reading - she had only made it a few pages before coming across the section on the proper methods of plant binding, and subsequently stumbling back into the whirlwind of painful images.
Schooling her features, Hermione shifted into a more comfortable position and set her books on the floor. "How was the first day of classes?"
The redhead shrugged and rested his arms along the back of the couch. "Mine went pretty well. Can't say the same for Harry, though."
Quickly glancing over at the other boy, she took in his pained expression and gave a sympathetic smile. "I thought I warned you about continuing to take Divination."
Amusement flickered in his eyes as Harry shook his head and flopped into a nearby armchair. "Could've used your help in Potions, though."
Somehow Hermione managed enough resolve not to flinch. Ducking her head, she shielded her eyes and sighed. "I doubt I would've been much help today anyway."
"About that," Ron interrupted, as though he had suddenly become aware of his proximity to her. "You're not contagious, are you?"
"What?" she hissed softly, catching the attention of other students passing through the space.
"Well, I mean, you were really sick and -"
"Oh, right. Sorry," she cut him off, belatedly remembering the cover story of her supposed illness. "My head's still a bit foggy, I guess. But no, I'm not contagious."
"You're sure?" he pressed, still leaning his upper body away from her.
"Yes, Ronald, I'm quite sure," she responded with a roll of her eyes as she crossed her arms. "I guarantee that if there were any chance of you suffering my affliction, you would know it. You probably wouldn't be sitting, either."
"Oh," he muttered, somewhat confused as he returned to his original position.
"Sorry, Harry." Hermione returned her attention to her dark-haired friend, who simply shrugged in response. "Anything you want to talk about?"
Harry let out a large gust of air and covered his face with his hands. "It was bad. Like really bad. Snape was particularly nasty today, and since I was the only Gryffindor there - and since I'm me - he really held no punches."
Hermione closed her eyes briefly and tried to quell the rising feeling of guilt. She knew the exact reason for Snape's foul mood, and it made her feel absolutely horrid that Harry was receiving the brunt of it.
"I mean, for starters," Harry continued. "I didn't even know that I was to take the class until an hour before it bloody started, and he knew it! He started hammering me with questions before I'd barely even managed to sit down, and then docked me further points for not having the required textbook for the course! Just how the bloody hell am I to have a textbook for a class I didn't think I was taking!"
"Why didn't you know?" she asked, frowning.
"I thought I hadn't made it in," he responded. "I only got an 'E' on the OWLS."
"But he only accepts -"
"I know!" Harry shouted. "He made it quite clear that I didn't belong there."
"Then why -"
"That's the question we've been trying to answer all day," Ron supplied. "We thought maybe you'd have an idea."
"Why would I have an idea about Snape?" she snapped.
Ron's eyes went wide and he flicked a quick glance towards Harry. "Well, you've always been the brains, Hermione. We just thought you could figure it out or something."
"Oh." Hermione paled a little as she considered her overreaction.
"Are you sure you're alright?" The redhead queried, resting a hand on her knee.
She swallowed nervously as she glanced down at his hand, and nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'm just a little...just feeling a little overwhelmed is all. I'll be fine tomorrow."
Pushing up from the couch and out from under Ron's compassionate gesture, she rose to her feet and collected her textbooks.
"Whoa, hold up a minute!" Ron called out, jumping off the couch and grabbing hold of her right hand. "Hermione, what happened?"
Her breath caught as she looked down to see him gently brushing his thumb over her knuckles. She had quite forgotten about the yellowed bruise that was still visible. "I..erm...accidently...shut my hand in one of my trunks. Quite stupid really."
Raising her gaze from their conjoined hands to Ron's face, she swallowed nervously as she took in the worried expression written in his blue eyes. Quickly snatching her hand from his, she dropped her eyes to the floor and tried to fight the shamed blush that was spreading up from her neck. Without looking back at him, she turned to make her way back up to the dormitory.
"I'm going to drop these books in my room and then I'm going to try to get my assignments before supper. I'll see you both then."
X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X
As the last remaining Hufflepuff third year scampered out into the hallway, Severus flicked his wrist and collapsed into his chair as the door slammed shut. Resting his elbows on his desk, he held his head in his hands and sighed deeply. As he had expected, it had become much harder to focus on his teaching when Hermione had returned to consciousness. He had tried to ignore it, and had managed to push on in spite of the distraction. When her thoughts returned to dwell solely on the binding and subsequent re-committal, however, it took every fiber of his being not to lose it. As such, he had undoubtedly taken his disparagement of the students to a higher level than usual.
Groaning, he knew he was in for a suppertime lecture from Minerva and the other Heads of House for their record-breaking first day point losses. Their censure may soften a bit after a glance at the hourglasses, though, for Slytherin had lost nearly as many points for minor infractions in the fifth year lecture. The behavior normally would have only earned them a disappointed stare from their leader, but since punishing Draco directly had been out of the question, Severus had looked for any opportunity to make up the difference.
With a glance at the clock on the back wall of the classroom, Snape let out a deep breath and stood from his chair. There was enough time for a decent shower in his quarters before he had to make his way up to the Great Hall.
After closing the classroom door behind him and placing a set of wards, he quickly made his way down the hall towards his office. Once inside, he quickly strode to the wall space directly behind his desk chair and waited a few seconds until the bricks faded into a dark-stained wooden door. Pushing through, he climbed the narrow stone staircase until it reached a small landing where another door appeared at his command.
Severus turned the brass knob and opened the door wide enough to slip into his bedroom. He came to a sudden stop in the middle of the room as his eyes locked onto the fluffy form curled up on his forest green pillows.
"Still here, are you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "I thought I told you to beat it."
The cat popped open his eyelids before lifting his head to meet the Potions Master's glare. It then opened its mouth in an apathetic yawn and stuck out its tongue.
"She was looking for you, you know," he muttered as he sat on the edge of the bed to remove his dragonhide boots. "Seemed to think you needed a night off, and yet you decided to spend your free time in the dungeons being an absolute nuisance. Apparently I was wrong in assuming the Weasleys were the only ginger menaces plaguing the castle."
I'm talking to a sodding cat, for Merlin's sake! Snape shook his head as he stood and removed his teaching robes. He had never particularly cared for cats. They were sly, scheming creatures that could turn positively demonic at the drop of a hat - he got enough of those characteristics when in the company of the Dark Lord and his minions. His only soft spot for the animal likely stemmed from the friendly animosity shared between he and Minerva.
As he unbuttoned the cuffs of his jacket, he glanced back at the furball who was currently running its pink tongue through its thick fur. Severus let out a bemused snort as he recalled the feline's unexpected appearance the night before. The damn thing had virtually emerged from nowhere, suddenly leaping onto his lap as he stared sullenly at the fire and splattering his tumbler of firewhiskey across his robes. He had cursed loudly and thrown the animal off his lap repeatedly, but the ginger creature kept crawling back until he just gave up and allowed the cat to remain.
And while Hermione slept peacefully under the influence of the Dreamless Sleep, Snape had expected to spend the night tossing and turning through his own nightmares. Instead, he had been surprised to wake in the morning, somewhat rested with a vibrating, furry mass upon his chest.
Perhaps cats aren't so bad, he mused. He thought briefly of the recently-deceased Sirius Black, and the recently-employed Remus Lupin. Certainly superior to dogs, at any rate.
As Severus made his way towards the bathroom door, his eyes narrowed and he once again fixed his gaze on the girl's familiar.
"I swear, cat, if you peed anywhere in here, your interloping days are through. Miss Granger will have to put up with a stuffed cat for her remaining therapy sessions. Is that understood?"
Crookshanks had turned his head to listen and, as Snape finished, the cat lifted one of his hind legs and began to lick his rump clean.
Severus gave a disgusted shudder, muttered something about needing new pillow cases, and shut the bathroom door behind him.
X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X
The castle was relatively quiet as Hermione made her rounds that night. As such, there was little to distract her from her discomforted musings. Her partner for the evening, Jason Wilcox, was the other new Gryffindor prefect and had kept his chattering to a minimum. It was his first set of rounds, and she could tell he was practically vibrating with nervous energy.
"You could calm down a bit," she muttered coldly.
"Sorry," the boy stammered. "Just new to this is all."
Hermione blew out a frustrated breath. "You'll be fine, Jason. It really isn't that difficult. Honestly."
Even in the low torchlight, she could see the blush spread across the younger boy's face. "Sorry. Just don't wanna screw up."
Rolling her eyes, she paused momentarily to glance down a side corridor. She could have sworn she have seen movement, but nothing appeared to be amiss. "What's to screw up? You walk the route, check the hiding places, and if someone's up to something they shouldn't be, you take away points. You're never to go on your own, you're always paired so you have back-up, and if the two of you still can't handle it, you go to a staff member for help.
"There aren't any Death Eaters hiding in the alcoves, and as long as you're fair about it, there won't be any repercussions," she continued. "So like I said, it really isn't that difficult."
"I guess," Jason muttered and dropped into silence.
At the boy's humiliated tone, Hermione felt a large hit of guilt gnawing at her stomach. She had not meant to snap at him - she had been just as nervous as he was a year ago - but his dithering had set her on edge. She had more pressing issues to deal with than building up the confidence of a budding prefect. It was hard enough dealing with the constant well-wishes from her housemates and the steady stream of 'How are you feeling?'s coming from staff and student alike, but when you added in the situation of Ron's probable interest in being more than her friend and her inability of ever committing herself to him, it was damn near impossible. If Voldemort or Snape did not kill her first, the stress would.
And now she was an entire day behind on her schoolwork. She had managed to track down Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and Vector to get her assignments, and had made every effort to assure them she was feeling much better and would have the work done before the next lecture. She had hoped to get the Potions assignment from Harry until he had explained at supper that everyone had been assigned an individual list of ingredients to research and theorize upon possible combinations. That meant that she would still have to seek out the Potions Master for her homework.
Hermione sighed, knowing full well she was not ready to deal with him that night. She had purposely avoided his scrutinizing gaze during dinner and had tried rather hard to forget that he could hear her thoughts. She would have until Monday to complete the essay, so she could forgo the meeting at least one more day.
The sound of a throat clearing behind them pulled her from her thoughts. When she spun, wand in hand, to face no one other than the Slytherin Head himself, she quite visibly jumped.
"Professor Snape!" Jason spluttered, wide-eyed. "We're just doing rounds, sir!"
"I had worked that out for myself, Mr. Wilcox," Snape sneered before shifting his eyes back to Hermione, who had gone rigid with her wand arm still extended. At his raised eyebrow, she seemed to remember herself, relaxed slightly and lowered her wand.
"W-what can we do for you, Professor?" she finally managed.
Severus regarded her for a minute, flicking his gaze briefly to her companion, and then shifted his stance. "You were absent from my class, Miss Granger. While I've been told you have a valid reason for doing so, I do still expect your work to be completed along with your classmates'."
You came all this way to tell me what I already knew? Hermione narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "I was planning to get the assignment from you tomorrow."
"Don't bother," he sniffed, pulling a scroll from within his robes and handing it to her. "Good evening, Miss Granger, Mr. Wilcox."
Hermione glanced down at the roll of parchment in her hand and then at his retreating form. "Wait, Professor!"
Snape halted his stride and turned with a questioning gaze.
"What about the potion brewed in class?"
The wizard straightened his robes and ducked his head. "I had assumed that your flask would have made full marks as usual. However, if you feel the annoying need to discover for yourself, you may find me in my office at seven-thirty tomorrow evening."
Without a further word, he disappeared around the corner.
"That was a bit weird," Jason muttered. "Almost as weird as his taking points from Slytherin."
Hermione snapped her gaze to the boy beside her. "What?"
"Yeah, in our class today, he ended up taking thirty points from his own house. It would have been brilliant had he not taken ours as well."
Frowning, she slipped the scroll into her pocket and continued along the route. Jason took a few seconds to realize she had started moving again and had to run to catch up to her.
X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X
A few hours later, Hermione laid in bed staring at the underside of her canopy. She listened to the soft sounds of her roommates sleeping as she went over everything in her head. She had spent a great deal of time trying to figure out what to do about Ron, but she found her thoughts kept drifting back to Snape. Certain things just weren't adding up. Snape being exceptionally angry in class - well, that made sense. Snape taking it out on his Slytherins - that did not.
Nor did it make sense that he would allow Harry into the course without the required grades. It was possible that Dumbledore had interceded and forced him to keep the Boy-Who-Lived on even though he had not earned it. That would explain why Snape would have tried to make him feel as though he did not belong. In that case, though, why would Dumbledore not tell Harry he was in the class? He would have known well enough in advance to have Harry purchase a book - heck, Dumbledore probably would have bought his golden boy a book himself.
Then why? If anyone other than Dumbledore had suggested it, he would have none so kindly told them where to stick it. No one else had that kind of power over him - besides Voldemort, and that was highly unlikely for him to want Harry to better educated in any branch of magic.
"...I was the only Gryffindor there..."
That was true for today, but not for the rest of the year. Hermione would be in class, too. Could that be it? Without Harry, she would be the only Gryffindor in class. She got along alright with the members of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, but she could not claim to be close to any of them. By allowing Harry in, she had a friend in class - a lab partner who had her back.
And what about his claim that she would receive full marks for a potion she did not even complete? He had never given her full marks on anything - something that had frustrated her beyond tears several times over the past five years. He always found something to criticize even when the brew was perfect. Once he had even gone so far as to dock marks because the cap on her flask had not been tightened fully.
Hermione sighed and turned onto her side. Her mind would not stop spinning through all of the questions long enough for her to fall asleep. The flask of Dreamless Sleep in her bedside table was tempting, but she could not run the risk of sleeping through half of her classes again. Staring at her bed-curtains, she wondered where Crookshanks had been hiding all day. He usually helped her calm down enough to get a few hours of sleep.
As if he had known she was seeking his comfort, a squashed face with golden eyes suddenly appeared at her feet.
"Crooks!" she cooed, sitting up to scoop him into her arms. "Where have you been? I missed you!"
The cat purred in response and flicked his tail.
"What's this?" she asked, spotting a ball of paper at the foot of the bed. She set the feline back onto the bed covers, and he lazily batted at the crumpled parchment. Curious, Hermione reached for it. "Been playing, have you?"
Under her familiar's careful gaze, Hermione unfolded the paper and attempted to smooth out the creases. The first side was completely blank, but upon flipping it over, she let out a small gasp. The page was covered in scribbles, every one of which read Professor S. Snape.
"Where did you get this, Crooks?" she asked with a frown as she stared at all of the signatures. Each one was slightly different from the others. It looked very similar to the pages she used to fill up when she was younger, trying to perfect her own signature.
Well, this is strange. Why would a grown man be penning out his name like a teenage girl? He must have been using the same flourish for the past twenty years or more - why change it now? She traced her finger along the largest copy at the top of the page. It was the signature she recognized from the past, the one she attributed to him, the one that was most similar to the etching across her spine.
Shuddering, she ran her finger down the page, scanning each alternate version. As she neared the end of the parchment, she stopped suddenly and raised her eyes to stare off into space. The last adaptation seemed familiar, but where had she seen it?
It came to her then - the image of the last missive he had sent her. A frown formed on her face as she regarded the memory of the note. The handwriting was the same as it had always been - angry and sprawling - but the signature had been different. It was not like the one at the top of the parchment she had now, but was instead identical to the one at the bottom.
So he had changed his signature, then...but why? Hermione scowled and crumpled the paper back into a ball. She tossed it off the end of the bed and watched in mild amusement as Crookshanks tore off after it. She flopped back onto her pillow and covered her face with her hands.
"Why is everything so bloody complicated!" Hermione groaned loudly.
"H'mione?" came a sleepy mumble from Ginny's bed. "What's wrong?"
Shite. She grimaced, realizing she had forgotten she was no longer alone. She would have to remember to cast silencing charms from now on, lest she wake up screaming again.
"Nothing's wrong, Gin," she lied. "Just a touch of insomnia. Go back to sleep."
"Mmmkay," Ginny replied quietly before drifting back to sleep.
Casting a silencing charm around her bed, Hermione let out a deep breath and closed her eyes. One thing was for certain - she would not wait until Monday to speak with him. She would keep the appointment in his office the following evening, just on the off chance she could figure out what the hell he was on about.