A/N: To all of you who sent me PMs this past week or two, you are awesome. I've been working on updates when I can, but yes - I have been drowning in schoolwork. I'm desperately wishing I could find a Time-Turner somewhere. It didn't help that I was sick during my busiest week, so any extra time I did find went to sleeping and feeling miserable. Anywho, healthy now and have an update ready for you!

This update did take a side road that I never saw coming until I was there, so I thought I'd venture on it for a bit.

Thanks for your continued reviews and concern! It gets me through the stress!

Bound to Him

Chapter 41

Hermione craned her neck, squinting into the bright sunlight of the winter afternoon. The stands were filled with shouting students as they watched the indistinguishable figures of Cho Chang and Draco Malfoy streak across the sky in pursuit of a tiny glint of gold. Suddenly, one broom veered wildly to the side courtesy of a heart kick from the Slytherin seeker. The Ravenclaw quickly regained control of her broom, but it was already too late.

The Snitch snapped shut with a chirp as Malfoy's gloved hand engulfed it.

A roaring cheer sprang up from the Slytherin stands, while the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw fans erupted into hissing boos.

Hermione, however, said nothing as her eyes remained transfixed on the clouds, searching desperately for any sign of the blonde Slytherin. It was as if he had suddenly disappeared into thin air. Cho was gracefully descending back to the Pitch, but Draco was nowhere to be seen.

Why wasn't anyone else noticing? Her heart was beating as she intensified her focus on the sky. Where is he? Where did he go? He was right there and -

A small scream escaped her lips as a hand clamped over her mouth.

"Looking for me, Mudblood?" he spat in her ear. "I thought I told you to leave me alone!"

"I'm sorry!" she whimpered, panicking when he forcefully pushed her, causing her to stumble down the stands before she fell to the Pitch with a thump. The hissing of the Gryffindors seemed to grow louder as it followed her down to the turf.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes accusingly as he appeared in front of her. "You're one of his."

"No!" she cried, pulling herself to her knees and grasping at the edge of his Quidditch robes. "I swear I'm not! I'm not one of his!"

"Oh, but you are!" He smiled wickedly as he leaned down to her. A gasp of fear escaped her as his handsome face suddenly morphed into the reptilian one of Lord Voldemort. "You… are… mine!"

The witch tried to scramble away from him, but he latched onto her cheeks with his frigid fingers. "My beautiful Hermione!"

"No…no….no," she mumbled as she struggled to pull away from his gaze.

"But you see, my darling girl," he smirked, "Severus no longer has any use for you –"

"No!"

"—and it seems, neither do I."

"No!"

The snakelike wizard pulled her face closer to his glowing red eyes. "Though, it does make me curious. Just what has held Severus's attention for so long?"

She sobbed loudly, failing in her attempts to yank out of his hold. In the flash of an eye his nearly invisible lips descended upon hers and his writhing tongue slithered into her mouth.

Immediately her body erupted into convulsions as a piercing scream filled the air.

"Hermione!"

The shaking became worse, and her vision was beginning to fade. Her eyelids were slowly falling closed, and then everything went to black.

"Hermione, wake up!"

The witch's eyes flew open and she jumped at the sight of eyes above her. She slammed a hand over her mouth and scrambled backwards, before realizing that the Dark Lord was not standing above her. Instead, she was being watched by two visibly concerned roommates.

Ginny hesitantly touched her shoulder. "Hermione, are you alright?"

The girl in question swallowed back an unhealthy dose of adrenaline and covered her face with her hands. It had only been a dream. Draco had caught the Snitch to win the match for Slytherin, but he had never disappeared from sight or tossed her from the stands. Voldemort had never materialized out of his body, and he had certainly never shoved his tongue down her throat.

Shuddering, she remembered the redhead was waiting for an answer. "I'm okay."

"What's wrong?" the youngest Weasley pressed as she perched cautiously on the edge of the mattress.

Hermione winced and shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong."

"You were screaming, Granger," Mathina countered.

"I was?"

Both of her roommates nodded their weary heads.

"I'm sorry," she sighed, wrapping her arms around her torso. "It was just a bad dream. I'm sorry I woke you. Please go back to sleep."

Mattie gave her an uncertain look, but nodded and slowly made her way back to her bed. The younger girl on the other hand, disappeared for only a moment before she returned to the bed with her pillow in hand.

"Budge up, 'Mione."

Hermione looked at her in confusion, but moved slightly to the side of the mattress. "What are you doing?"

Ginny smirked as she plopped her pillow down and scooted under the covers. "Well, I've noticed that you usually sleep better with a ginger in your bed, but Crookshanks isn't around, is he? And Ron's out of the question; thank you, Lavender. So guess it's me you're stuck with tonight."

"You're absolutely ridiculous," the brunette huffed as she flopped down and tugged her comforter over her shoulders.

"And yet you still love me."

"When have I ever said that?"

The redhead snickered and glanced over her shoulder. "Well, you haven't exactly kicked me out of the bed, now have you? Therefore you must have some fondness –"

"You know, Crookshanks doesn't speak," Hermione interrupted.

Ginny sighed, but let a smile creep on her face as she snuggled into her pillow.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

The rest of the weekend had passed without further incident, and her residual headache had vanished completely by the end of her Monday morning classes. Beyond a raised eyebrow at the beginning of Potions, she had managed to avoid drawing any extra attention from Snape, which had made it easier to focus on his lecture instead of thinking about anything regarding the Dark Lord. When she did have time to let her mind wander, she had found herself increasingly glancing in Harry's direction, looking for any telltale signs that he had seen anything from when she had been summoned.

There had not seemed to be. Harry had been nothing more than friendly to her during Saturday's Quidditch match, inquiring after her phony massive Arithmancy assignment and quickly casting a Muffliato so he could tell her about his progress in dueling himself. Since then, he had only shared exasperated looks with her whenever Ron and Lavender happened to be nearby.

Hermione knew she really ought to be relieved that he was perfectly oblivious to where she had gone after leaving him in the Room of Requirement, but something just was not setting well with her. His scar had burned with her last summoning, so why had it not done so for the second time?

The witch pondered this as she traced her hand along a shelf in the library. Her Arithmancy class had been let out early so the students could begin researching for their year-long assignment in which they had to develop their own number charts to predict the likelihood and location of a certain event. In her case, she had to figure out the probability of a natural disaster occurring sometime in April somewhere in the continental United States.

And so it was that Hermione found herself the only one of her class actually using the time as it was intended.

Or attempting to, at least. She sighed as she pulled out the book entitled Figuring Fires, Floods, and Famines by Rubian Brook. Chewing on her lip, she leaned against the bookshelf and casually began leafing through the pages. Though picture after picture of devastation appeared before her eyes, the only thing she could think about was Harry and his mental connection with Voldemort.

What was so different about this time than last? She frowned slightly and leaned her head to the side. Professor Snape said that it happened because the Dark – Voldemort – was excited, but he seemed plenty excited this time, too. And why did he see it from the stupid snake's viewpoint? His connection is with Voldemort, not the snake. But that was what happened with Mr. Weasley, too, wasn't it? He saw the snake attacking him. But with Sirius – he saw the Dark – damn it – he saw Voldemort.

It just doesn't add up. She let out a small groan as she let the book gently close in her hands. "What is it I'm missing?"

"A strapping young man in your life."

Hermione squawked softly as she jumped and spun to face the intruder. She cursed inwardly at the sight of the cocky Gryffindor and chided herself for not paying more attention to her surroundings. Again.

"Cormac," she addressed him, dropping her voice into a cool warning tone.

"I do believe the two things could be synonymous, yes," he smirked, taking a few steps toward her.

Instinctively, she pushed away from the stacks and began stepping backwards. "I wouldn't exactly say that."

McLaggen tilted his head. "Then say you'll let me take you to Hogsmeade instead."

"I'm not saying that either," she grumbled, quickly slipping back to her table to grab her small pile of books.

"Cheeky witch," he chuckled, suddenly appearing beside her and reached for the stack. "Let me carry those for you."

"I'm perfectly capable of carrying them myself," the girl huffed, snatching them out of his grasp. She immediately spun on her heel and began storming towards the front of the library.

"Oi!" Cormac called after her, earning himself a damning glare from Madam Pince as she signed the books into Hermione's possession. "We'll talk about this later, Granger!"

"Not if I have anything to do with it," the brunette muttered under her breath, punching open the library door. As she set off in a dead sprint down the hallway, she vowed to renew her efforts in dodging his attentions.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Despite her attempt, it seemed Cormac McLaggen was more determined to harass her than she was determined to avoid him. She had barely stepped foot out of Defense the following morning before he pounced on her, slipping his arm around her waist and steering her away from her intended direction.

Since Remus was still recovering from his monthly transformation, he had opted for a more formal lecture in lieu of a practical session. As was expected, Hermione found the need to take notes, unlike the majority of the class, and as such, she was the last to pack her bag and exit the room. Harry and Ron had begun making their way to History of Magic without her – though she doubted they had even realized it.

"What the hell are you doing?" she seethed, yanking out of McLaggen's grasp as soon as she realized what was happening.

"I said we would talk about this later," the boy winked, leaning closer to whisper in her ear. "It's later."

"No! Just… no!" She snarled audibly and readjusted her book bag. "I'm not going to Hogsmeade with you!"

The witch moved to push past him, but he grabbed hold of her arm to prevent her from leaving. "You don't have detention again, do you?"

"No, I don't have detention," she hissed, "but I very well might if you don't let me get to class on time!"

"Old Binns wouldn't notice if you came in half an hour late, Granger," he smirked, stepping closer to her.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and pulled her arm out of his grasp. "You've memorized my schedule now?"

"Well, when you're so determined to play hard-to-get, I have to get a little more creative."

"I'm not playing hard-to-get," she spat with a glare. "And there isn't going to be any 'getting' with you."

Cormac donned a look of mock hurt and clutched at his chest. "You wound me, Granger."

"Good." The girl shuddered and made to leave.

"But I'm willing to overlook it," he added, following behind her. "Considering I know I can change your mind."

"No, you can't."

"Aw, come now, Hermione! Give a bloke a chance!"

"You don't get it!" She shouted, whirling around and poking him hard in the chest with her pointer finger. "I am not interested in a relationship with you! So leave me alo –"

The clearing of a throat caused her to pause mid-tirade and snap her gaze to the side. Remus was leaning against the door frame of his classroom, staring at her with a sad expression. His skin was so pale it looked grey, and heavy dark circles rested beneath his eyes.

"Miss Granger," he sighed. "I believe you have a class to get to."

"Yes, sir," she mumbled, casting one last glare at the boy beside her before setting off in the direction of the stairs.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Severus cast a glance in the direction of the only pair of Gryffindors and raised one eyebrow in surprise as he noted Hermione was dicing her lemongrass with ten times more force than was necessary. He had noticed that she had been unusually silent at lunch, but had assumed it was due to the disgusting displays of affection being directed toward the idiot Weasley. He was starting to reconsider that explanation, however, since Potter was glancing at her in utter confusion.

With a sigh, he realized he really did want to know what had ruffled her feathers. As he stalked down the aisle between the two rows of tables, he mentally opened their connection. He watched her from the corner of his gaze, waiting until she had set down the blade to catch her attention. He did not want to risk startling her while she was repeatedly slamming a sharp object down with such frenzy.

'Granger,' he addressed her when she had let the knife clatter safely to the table top.

'What?'

Snape narrowed his eyes slightly at her angry tone. 'Has the lemongrass offended you in some manner?'

'No.' He saw her sigh and drop her shoulders slightly as she gathered a handful of the herb and began sprinkling it into her cauldron. 'It's just… Well, since Remus thinks I'm whoring around anyway, am I just supposed to encourage that assumption?'

The wizard coughed slightly in surprise and he pinched the bridge of his nose as he contemplated her question. 'I have no idea, Granger.'

'No idea? You have no idea?"

'Is that not what I just said?'

"But you're the spy! You're supposed to know this!'

He rolled his eyes slightly as he moved to observe another pair of students. 'Contrary to yourself, Miss Granger, I do not believe that I know absolutely everything.'

'Could have fooled me.'

Severus tossed a mild glare in her direction and then instructed Hannah Abbot to stop mangling her bitterroot. He managed a few minutes' worth of pacing before sighing inwardly. 'Why does Lupin think you're engaging in wanton behavior now?'

'Cormac,' came her irritated response as he peered into Terry Boot's cauldron. 'He won't let off about Hogsmeade. He thinks I'm playing bloody hard-to-get.'

The professor grimaced visibly, causing the Ravenclaw boy in front of him to suddenly recheck the directions in a state of panic. The man stepped away with a look of amusement on his face and strode to the other side of the room. 'And what did you do to deter the blithering idiot?'

'I told him I wasn't interested. Screamed it actually, but then Remus interfered and sent me to class. Whether he took the hint or not, I don't know.'

'Are you forcing me to provide you with an impromptu Saturday activity yet again?' He glanced up just in time to see her roll her eyes and shake her head slightly.

'No. They barely believed I earned one detention, let alone two in a term. Besides, I was looking forward to getting out of the castle a bit…for something unrelated to spying or keeping secrets. No offense.'

'None taken.' He allowed a small quirk of his lips when he saw she was looking in his direction. 'I suppose we'll have to devise a new tactic then.'

Hermione smirked as she dropped her eyes back to her brewing. 'I suppose so.'

When she seemed to devote the entirety of her consideration to her present task, he quickly silenced her stream of consciousness and attempted to focus his attention on monitoring the brewing process. However, he could not help but find his mind wandering back to the Hogsmeade-McLaggen issue every now and then, and by the time the practical session had come to a close he had all but made up his mind regarding his course of action.

When the last student placed the stasis charm on their potion and disappeared through the door, he methodically checked to see that his classroom was in order before he warded the door and made his way to the staircase.

Ten minutes later, he was striding forcefully into the deputy headmistress's office.

"Severus," she warned without looking up from her desk. "One day I am going to lock that door and you are going to find yourself with a much flatter nose."

"Which staff members are chaperoning the Hogsmeade visit?" he questioned, ignoring her comment.

"You expect me to believe that you stormed into my office just to ask something you couldn't even be bothered to pay attention to during the last staff meeting?" McGonagall scoffed, glancing up from her work. When he offered no response as he stood awkwardly in the middle of her office, she sighed and set down her quill. "Pomona, Filius, and Septima are escorting the students on Saturday."

Snape took in a contemplative breath. "Tell Vector you've given her the weekend off."

The witch leaned back in her chair. "Pray tell for what reason?"

"Whatever reason you would deem appropriate," he shrugged, leaning against an armchair. "Perhaps, you can suggest she use the time to pull the sizeable stick out of her arse."

With a quirk of her eyebrow, Minerva tilted her head. "Are you volunteering to chaperone, then?"

When not a single protest met her question, her eyes widened in amusement and she sat taller in her chair. "Are you ill? Or dying? Oh, dear – am I dying?"

"I don't find it as amusing as you do, woman," he scowled, crossing his arms.

"Merlin's pants, Severus – do you know how monumental this occasion is?"

"Yes, yes," he sneered bitterly. "Severus Snape is volunteering to watch the little urchins running around like chickens with their heads chopped off, stuffing their faces full of sweets and each other. Get out the bloody crystal, for god sake."

McGonagall chuckled and shook her head. "You know, I'm half tempted to owl the Prophet."

"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped, dropping into the chair.

"At the very least, I think I should ask Poppy to check you for fever."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Are you quite done?"

"Oh, no. Not quite." She smiled and folded her arms. "I have the overwhelming urge to document this in my personal diary."

"You don't keep a diary," he stated blandly.

"Oh, and just how would you know?" she queried with a grin. He gave her a pointed stare until she sighed. "Alright, fine. But mark my words, if I did, you can be assured I would have penned this just beneath your failure to notice Hermione's ability for an entire fortnight and your remarkable assessment of female leakage."

The wizard met her challenging eyes with a dangerous glare.

Minerva snickered and rested her arms on the sides of her chair. "I will ask Filius to stay back, then, if you're so keen on babysitting."

"I would prefer Filius's company."

"It may come as a shock to you, Severus, but I don't base my decisions solely on your preferences," she smirked. "I recognize your dislike for Septima – though, I cannot for all the galleons in Gringotts guess why – but I must choose what's best for Hogwarts. I ordinarily like to have two Heads of House in the castle at all times; surely, you've pieced that together by now."

"The Headmaster will be in the castle," he remarked drolly. "Surely, he must equate a Head of House."

The witch glared disapprovingly at his smirk. "Do not try my patience, Severus."

"I find it only fair I return the favor, Minerva."

She clucked in response, picking up her quill and pulling forth a magical calendar from beneath a stack of essays. "Was it this Hogsmeade trip you wished to chaperone, or every Hogsmeade trip for the remainder of the school year? I find that my memory seems to follow my patience."

Snape sighed dramatically as he stood from the chair. "Fine. I'll deal with Vector if I must."

McGonagall watched as he stalked out of the room and shook her head bemusedly.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

After two days of successfully avoiding Cormac, Hermione was in rather good spirits. As soon as Transfiguration let out for the afternoon, she had quickly sprinted up the several flights of stairs and popped into the Gryffindor girls' dormitory for a few hours' worth of quiet before supper.

As it was, she was lying on her bed, staring up at the underside of the maroon canopy as she considered her options for Hogsmeade. Crookshanks, who had suddenly appeared shortly after her arrival, was content in his position atop her stomach.

Devise a new tactic… devise a new tactic… The girl sighed as she began scratching behind her familiar's ears. "You know, this was so much easier with Ronald. Lavender was entirely too easy a distraction."

Crookshanks began purring in a loud rumble and tilted his head to grant her better access.

"I can't really distract him if I'm the one he's dead-set on, can I? He's had practically the entire sixth and seventh year girls throwing themselves at him, and he isn't bloody interested." Hermione let out a frustrated puff of air and gnawed on her lip for a long moment. "And telling him that I'm not interested isn't getting me anywhere."

When she stopped in her scratching, the ginger cat pointedly butted his head against her hand and fixed her with a demanding look.

"Ugh, you're trying to distract me, aren't you?" she groaned, resuming her task. "Maybe I should just try explaining to Cormac that you demand all of my attention and time, so I have nothing left for him."

The witch giggled softly at the satisfied expression that had appeared on his face, and then her eyes widened suddenly as inspiration struck. "What if I tell him that I already have a boyfriend? Do you suppose that would work, Crooks?"

The cat blinked at her in response, and she sighed. "He doesn't seem big on listening, does he?"

"Well, seeing is believing, isn't it?" she whispered a few minutes later. I could ask Harry to go with me. He wouldn't get the wrong idea if I tell him that I'm trying to avoid Cormac. Obviously, I won't be able to shop for him then, but perhaps I can place an order by owl later.

With that thought, a new depressing truth settled into her mind. Much to her cat's dismay, Hermione lurched forward and slapped a hand to her forehead. Since she had never gone to Diagon Alley to get her school things, she had never visited Gringotts. In addition, she had still been an underaged Muggleborn witch until recently, so she had never been able to procure her own vault in the Wizarding Bank and had been relying solely upon the exchange of Muggle currency her parents made for her every August.

Biting down on her lip, the girl slipped down from her mattress and quickly scampered over to her trunk. Frantically, she began digging through her possessions, looking for any spare change she could find. When she had finished with the trunk, she moved onto her wardrobe and desk. After an exhaustive search of her belongings, she had managed to collect one galleon, fifteen sickles, seven knuts, and three very wrinkled five-pound notes.

"Fifteen pounds," she mumbled, rubbing her forehead. "If I could exchange it somewhere for three galleons, I might be able to make it work."

Nodding in determination, she slipped the paper money into the pocket of her jeans and stored the pile of Wizarding coins in her desk drawer before making her way down to supper.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"Is there a reason you asked that I bring my coat?" Hermione asked as she entered the hallway near the entrance to Snape's and McGonagall's quarters.

The dark-haired wizard raised an eyebrow from where he leaned against the wall. "Clearly."

"And the reason is?" she pressed, coming to a stop in front of him.

"You're going to need it," he smirked, spinning on his heel and making his way toward the secret passage.

The girl widened her eyes as she quickly stepped after him. "Are we apparating? In the snow?"

"I was not aware apparition was weather-dependent," he sneered lightly as they turned a corner.

"Well, no," she stammered, holding her coat tighter to her chest. "I agree that was a stupid question. It's just been a while since we've done this."

Snape tilted his head in acknowledgement as he held open a door for her. "All the more reason to resume the practice."

She snorted softly and nodded as they began walking again. They continued on in near silence until reaching the apparition point beyond the wards. Hermione quickly shrugged on her coat over her jumper and slipped on her hat and gloves. "The usual spot?"

"If you think you can manage."

Narrowing her gaze, she folded her arms across her chest and immediately spun in place. Her stomach screamed its protestations as she appeared with a loud crack a half-second later in the clearing of the Forbidden Forest.

The Slytherin Head arrived in near silence and met her challenging gaze with one of exasperation. "I assume you think you're clever."

"From time to time," she smiled.

"Well, turn about," he muttered. "Have you splinched yourself?"

Hermione slowly spun around with her arms extended, allowing him to cautiously sweep his eyes over her. "I don't believe so."

"Neither do I," Severus agreed a moment later. "Though you could leave half your hair behind and no one would be the wiser."

"Oh ha bloody ha," she rolled her eyes, dropping her arms to her side. "Now who thinks he's clever?"

"Temper, temper," he smirked, with a slight gleam in his eye. Clearing his throat, he adjusted the collar of his winter cloak. "Do you require further practice on your own, or are you fully confident in your abilities?"

The witch squirmed slightly and met his eyes. "Do you think I'm ready?"

"It does not matter what I think," he answered simply.

"I think it does," she mumbled before sighing. "Alright, I think I can handle it."

"You think –"

"I know I can handle it!" the girl stated loudly.

Severus felt his lip twitch at the annoyed expression on her face. "Then we move on."

"To what?" she asked, curiosity settling upon her features.

"Side-along apparition."

Hermione frowned slightly and cocked her head. "I thought we did that fir – oh."

His mouth betrayed him as it twisted into a grin at the sudden widening of her eyes.

"You mean that I have to apparate you?" She placed both hands on her head and let out a deep breath. "No way. Absolutely not."

The wizard snorted and shook his head. "Before you work yourself into an ulcer, I am not trusting the preservation of my person to you until you have proven yourself capable with something of less mass."

"Oh good," she whimpered, letting her gloved hands slide down her face. "And exactly what is the something with less mass?"

He took in a loud breath and raised his eyebrows in contemplation. "A sizeable sack of books…that silly, grovelling elf… your interloping Kneazle…"

"Whoa!" she interrupted. "Don't you dare bring Crooks into this."

"Cats are remarkably resistant when it comes to being apparated," he argued.

"That doesn't mean they're impermeable to splinching," she returned, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm not risking him on something I've never done before."

Snape smirked and perched on the edge of the stump as he pulled forth a small package from his pocket. "Which is exactly why you're going to start with the sack of books."

Hermione watched as he returned the item to its original size and dropped it in front of her. As she picked the hefty bag up from the ground, she glanced at him in suspicion. "Why books?"

"If what you're apparating has no value to you, there is not the pressure to retain it in its original condition."

The girl narrowed her eyes and shook the sack lightly. "Exactly which books are in here?"

"A number of your more expensive textbooks along with your oft-read copy of Hogwarts: A History," he replied; a sly grin creeping onto his face.

Her jaw dropped in horrified surprise. "But that isn't fair! What if I ruin them? I can't afford to –"

"It is in your best interest then, to exercise extreme caution when apparating them to the edge of the trees."

With a small huff, she set her mouth in determination and gripped the bag tighter. "Fine, but even if I do succeed, you better leave my sodding cat alone!"

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

A few hours later, Hermione flopped onto her bed with a sigh. She felt physically drained after completing nearly two dozen apparition runs, and if it had not have been for her Herbology essay, she would have crawled into bed as soon as Snape had released her for the night.

Stifling a yawn, she glanced at her sleeping roommates and felt a small pang of guilt for leaving on the light on her desk. She leaned over to extinguish it, but paused upon remembering the sack of books on the floor. Slipping off of the mattress, she pulled open the bag and started re-shelving her texts. When she pulled out the last book – Hogwarts: A History – she gave a whimpering sigh and ran her hand across the familiar cover.

Except it's not so familiar any more, is it? Her nose wrinkled as her fingers traced over the rough edges of where a large chunk had disappeared from the upper right hand corner. Her first attempt at side-along had resulted in the safe passage of all but this one book, and she had nearly cried upon discovering the damage. She had managed to keep her anguish over the tome in check, thought, for she was sure that Snape would find her attachment to it amusing.

And she had found it nothing close to amusing at his threatening her familiar. When she had finished the evening's session without causing any further damage to the books or herself, he had once again suggested that she complete future attempts at apparating with Crookshanks in tow.

Not bloody likely, she grimaced, dropping the ruined book onto her desk with a clatter. Realizing afterwards that it was currently past midnight, she looked nervously towards Ginny's and Mattie's unmoving forms. She relaxed upon seeing them still fast asleep, and turned to throw back the covers on her own bed.

"Nox," she whispered softly as she climbed in between her sheets.

Her eyes had just drooped shut, and she was just beginning to drift off to sleep when an audible cracking noise caused her to bolt upright. Without so much as a word, she brandished her wand – the end of it glowing blue with a wordless Lumos.

Large eyes reflected the wandlight, and the girl jumped backwards with a squeak.

"Dobby is sorry!" the elf cried, drooping his ears. "Dobby did not mean to scare Hermione Granger. Dobby only meant to give her the present from Master Snape, sir!"

"Shhh," Hermione cautioned, flicking her gaze quickly to her roommates. "You'll wake them up."

"Oh, Dobby is inconsiderate!" he wailed before whacking his head on the corner of her desk. "Dobby was told to be quiet!"

"Stop it. Stop it, Dobby!" she hissed, reaching out to grab the elf's arm. "You don't need to punish yourself. Please, stop."

When she heard Ginny beginning to shift in her bed, the girl swallowed nervously and cast a Muffliato. As she watched the elf continuing to beat his head against the leg of the desk, a number of her books were beginning to jar loose. "Dobby, stop!"

"But Dobby was bad! Master Snape, sir told Dobby to be quiet and to not wake up Hermione Granger!"

Rubbing her forehead in frustration, the witch shook her head and yanked the elf back from her desk. "You didn't wake me up, Dobby. I wasn't asleep. Now what did he give you?"

The elf shifted nervously on his feet, but held out a small coin purse.

"Thank you, Dobby," she said forcefully as she took it from him. "Good night."

The creature bowed and disappeared with another crack.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes at the spot where he had stood. She then glanced down at the small bag in her hand. It was relatively heavy, and it rattled noisily when she shook it.

The witch frowned as she began untying the strings. She had given him her Muggle money after her apparition lesson – thankfully that had remained in one piece – and he had agreed to consult the Gringotts' exchange rate in order to give her the equivalent in Wizarding currency. She had not expected for him to do so immediately, however, and the bag seemed exceptionally full to only hold a few galleons' worth.

Did he pay me all in knuts? Settling back into her bed, she tipped the bag over and dumped its contents out on top of the duvet. Her eyes widened in surprise as she spread out the coins. She had been expecting something around three galleons, but instead he had given her nearly a dozen.

She shook her head as she began scooping the coins back into the satchel. There's no way that the pound has quadrupled in value. No way.

A small smile crept on her face as she tucked the bag into the drawer of her bedside table. She promised herself that she would pay him back later, but for now she was content in the knowledge that she could afford presents for each of her friends.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"Miss Granger, if you would – I'd like to speak to you for a moment after class."

Hermione cautiously glanced up at Remus as she packed her bag and nodded. She smiled at Ron and Harry as they filed past her and when the rest of the room had emptied out, she stepped toward his desk. Truthfully, she had been expecting this conversation since Tuesday morning and she was surprised it had taken him this long.

"Was there something you needed, sir?" she asked innocently.

Lupin narrowed his eyes slightly as he leaned against the edge of his desk. "Hermione, is there something you need to talk about?"

"No." She bit her lip as she shook her head.

The wizard exhaled loudly in response and lowered his chin. "I have tried to keep my distance from whatever it is you're going through –"

Not hard enough, she thought with a frown.

"—but the truth is, I'm concerned about you."

The witch crossed her arms and tilted her head. "I've told you before, sir. I'm fine."

"I'm not speaking to you as a professor," he sighed. "I'm speaking to you as a friend."

"Alright," she accepted. "In that case: Remus, I'm fine."

His eyes held a saddened glaze within them as he folded his arms against his chest. "What is the nature of the relationship between you and Cormac McLaggen?"

Hermione bristled at the question and fixed him with a pointed stare. "I don't see how that's any of your business, but there isn't one."

"Mr. McLaggen seems to think there is," Remus countered.

"Because he's delusional," she snapped. "And completely incapable of listening."

The professor closed his eyes for a few seconds and took in a deep breath. "Actions have a tendency to speak louder than words, Hermione."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked defensively.

"It means that men are easily confused," he offered with a hesitant smile. When she stared at him strangely, he cleared his throat and dropped his gaze to the floor. "It may be difficult for him to hear what you are saying if you are…encouraging him in…other manners."

The witch dropped her jaw in disbelief. "What?"

Remus winced at her reaction and wiped his face with one hand. "Hermione, I did not mean – "

"No, I don't care what you meant," she interrupted, quickly returning to her table. As she snatched up her book bag, she glanced back at him. "Perhaps he'll be discouraged enough then when Harry and I go to Hogsmeade together."

His eyes widened suddenly in surprise. "You and Harry?"

"Yes," she nodded forcefully. "Harry and I. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm certain there's a line of students waiting for your class."

"Let them wait, then," he responded. "I am under no obligation to allow them in until their scheduled time. We're still discussing –"

"I would rather not discuss anything further, actually," she said softly. "I'm supposed to meet Harry to work on Potions in the library."

Lupin grimaced as he watched her stride towards the door. Before she reached it, however, he called out, "I know what happened to you, Hermione."

The girl froze where she stood, staring blankly at the door. She waited a few seconds before expelling a throaty, "Good for you."

"I know that you were assaulted," he explained, ignoring her comment. "I understand how you must be feeling –"

"No, I really don't think you can, sir," she hissed, spinning back to face him. "I appreciate your concern, but do not pretend to understand what I'm going through."

Remus kept his eyes level and his voice steady. "I do not mean to trivialize anything, Hermione, but I do understand how it feels to have control taken away from you."

She had opened her mouth to argue, but snapped it shut upon second thought and looked to the floor in shame. Somehow she had temporarily forgotten about his being a werewolf even though the evidence had been on his face only a few days prior. Furthermore, her much earlier outburst of preferring lycanthropy to her current situation came unbidden to her mind.

Hermione winced at the memory and ran a hand through her hair. Given the choice now, she would undeniably choose to be bound to Professor Snape than to suffer transformations every month.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You don't need to apologize to me," he responded softly. "But you do need to take care of yourself."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "I am attempting to. I promise."

"I don't just mean eating and sleeping, Hermione," the disheveled wizard stated, giving her a pointed look. "You are a strong witch. Do not allow anyone to ever think otherwise."

"Yes, sir," she whispered, draping one arm around her waist. She cleared her throat and turned toward the door. As she touched the knob, she blew out a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder. "Thank you, Remus."

He nodded and gave her a small smile. "Send in the third-years, if you would."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"It was awfully decent of you, Severus, to allow Filius to have a day off," Pomona chirped as the three Hogwarts professors strode along the crowded streets of Hogsmeade. "He has been working exceptionally hard to make sure the castle is decorated precisely to the Headmaster's liking. A never-ending task, if you ask me."

"Awfully unexpected of you, I might add," Septima smirked from her vantage above the Herbology Professor.

The wizard rolled his eyes and glared at a pair of fourth years who had dared get too close to him. "I am merely paying my dues for having missed chaperoning the last excursion."

"Ah, yes," the dark-haired witch responded with a wink. "You conveniently had to oversee a detention with the school's top student."

Snape snorted at her in disdain. "I do not deny that she may be the highest-achieving student academically-speaking, but do not attempt to convince me that she is the best-behaved or the most well-mannered of students."

"You make a valid point," Pomona chuckled. "She has gotten herself into a number of situations over the years. Though, of course, she only did so when she felt that it was absolutely necessary."

"Your Hufflepuff sentimentality requires that you see the best in everyone, Pomona," he sneered.

"It does indeed, Severus," the plump witch said with a smile. "Though, it did not preclude me from observing that your Slytherin sensibilities required you to take advantage of Granger's ill choices in order to avoid escort duty."

"I do not believe that I was the one taking advantage of Miss Granger's ill choices that day," he remarked off-handedly.

Sprout snorted and shook her head. "Nevertheless, a Saturday detention was a bit much…even for you."

The Potions Master smirked slightly as he glanced through the front window of Honeydukes. He could see Hermione looking over a selection of sweets with Potter in tow. He sighed at the thought of her plan of using the Boy Wonder as a shield against McLaggen, but he could not dismiss its merits. She had assured him that Harry would agree to serving as a stand-in date –understanding, of course, that it was strictly a pretense – because he was a dedicated friend who would not leave her to deal with the randy prat alone.

Severus had been loath to give his approval to the idea, though; until the little chit pointed out that the Dark Lord had demanded that she continue distracting the boy.

"What's a better distraction than making him go to Hogsmeade?" she asked with a grin, grabbing his arm as they walked through the darkened tunnel. "Or better than involving him in my schoolgirl problems?"

She had sunk his objections in one fell swoop. He knew that the Dark Lord would joyously welcome the news that Harry Potter was busy trying to keep her safe from the groping hands of a hormone-charged seventh-year instead of trying to keep the Wizarding World safe from an evil tyrant.

Her plan was indubitably clichéd and short-sighted, but it would do in a pinch.

Knowing that, however, was apparently not enough to keep him from gritting his teeth when he watched them exit the shop holding hands.

"Severus?" Sprout called. "Are you joining us?"

The man pulled his gaze from the Gryffindor students and glanced at the witch beside him, who was gesturing towards The Three Broomsticks. He took one look at the hopeful light in Vector's eyes and internally grimaced. "My apologies, Pomona, but I have errands to run."

"My, my – Severus Snape shopping?" A look of mock surprise crossed her face. "What has the world come to?"

"I owe Minerva a gift as equally ghastly as the one she plans on bestowing me," he said flatly before meandering away from them. He could hear Pomona laughing as she made her way into the pub and he could feel Vector staring at the back of his head.

Forget the Godric Gryffindor-scented bath salts she'll manage to find; I owe Minerva a heaping pile of shit simply for forcing me to put up with this.

He shuddered slightly at the thought of having to sit next to the Arithmancy professor for any reason outside of a professional function. In front of the staff she always tried to treat him with varying degrees of contempt and indifference, but he had discovered most unfortunately a few years prior that her true sentiments towards him lie on the opposite end of the spectrum.

It had been two nights before the Welcoming Feast the year Potter had been Sorted, and Snape had been drowning his sorrows at the Hog's Head, listening to Aberforth denigrate his brother. When the barkeep had been pulled away to manage a scuffle on the front step, the haughty witch had suddenly appeared beside him. She had criticized his amount of drink, sneered at the plainness of his robes, insulted the size of his nose, and then invited him upstairs.

He admittedly had consumed enough alcohol that had it only been for the fact she was seventeen years his senior, he likely would have taken her up on the offer. As it was, however, he was more than capable of holding a grudge even when decidedly pissed. After his mother had died, he had found a number of her diaries from her Hogwarts years, and from those he had discovered that she and Septima Vector had only been a few years apart. Though Vector had been a Ravenclaw, the two had been on the school Gobstones team together until Eileen had graduated.

They had been on terms of acquaintanceship when in school together, but as far as he knew, the two had never spoken again as a result of what had transpired near the end of the 1959 school year. Eileen Prince had been enamored with a student – Thomwell Chromas - that had graduated the year before her and had exchanged a multitude of letters with him over the year. He had promised to meet her in Hogsmeade during the final Hogwarts excursion, but an hour prior to their arranged meeting, Eileen caught sight of him through the window of Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. Thinking he had simply arrived early, she had pushed open the door in time to see him kiss the younger Septima. Heartbroken, she had abandoned the outing altogether, and immediately fled to the safety of the Slytherin dungeons.

Following the news of her mother's death the same week, Eileen had descended into a serious bout of depression. Disenchanted with the magical world, she slipped away from her father at the graduation ceremony and, as a result, ran headlong into Tobias Snape. Cast out of the Prince household upon the discovery of the illegitimate child growing in her womb, she had no choice but to crawl back to the drunkard and scrape out a measly existence in the Muggle realm. When she had prematurely given birth seven months after leaving school, she named her son after her father in a last ditch effort to repair their broken relationship.

Severus Adlum Prince, however, had experienced no softening of his heart, and so Severus Tobias Snape became the last in a sizeable line of men to have ruined Eileen's life.

"Sorry, Professor."

Snape snapped back to reality at the muffled voice. Glancing down, he observed the youngest Weasley step around him after almost having collided with his shoulder upon rushing out of Spintwitches. Before he could utter any sort of reprimand, the girl wiped her eyes and sped quickly out of sight.

What the bloody hell was that about? He frowned and rolled his eyes before continuing on towards Tomes and Scrolls. He scowled darkly at the bell that cheerily announced his arrival at the bookshop and ignored the polite greeting from the young woman behind the counter. As he negotiated the familiar twists and turns of the book stacks, he allowed his mind to wander back to thoughts of his mother's misfortunate lot in life.

He was not foolish enough to hold Septima Vector personally responsible for the violent, downward spiral in Eileen's life. She had barely been sixteen at the time, and he seriously doubted that she had possessed any knowledge of Chromas's intentions towards his mother. In all honesty, he was not entirely convinced that the wizard had offered Eileen anything more than friendship since there were no letters left to be read. Eileen had burned them all in the Slytherin Common Room in 1959.

Furthermore, Severus suspected that Vector was not even aware that he was her schoolmate's progeny. She had never broached the topic with him, and it was highly unlikely that she would have made such a scandalous request of him had she known.

It was somewhat surprising, but very few actually appeared to know of his heritage. Muggle wedding ceremonies did not receive much attention in the Wizarding World, and next to no one seemed to have noticed Eileen's disappearance from the Prince family tree. Though he did have many features in common with the Princes, not many attributed him to the Pureblood name since those that knew Eileen Prince found it nearly impossible to fathom that she could have produced a child so soon after graduation.

And for everyone else, it was exceedingly difficult to notice the Prince cheekbones or eyes since no one seemed to be able to look past his father's nose.

Minerva knew of his mother's identity, of course, though apparently she knew nothing of Vector's role in Eileen's sudden depressive turn. Since Eileen was just as private of a person as was her son, it was likely that the only attributed cause of her melancholy was the death of her mother.

"Would you like this wrapped?" the shopgirl asked as he placed his single purchase upon the counter.

"Please," he grunted, leaning against the counter. As he watched the woman set about her task, he remembered his mother's shaky penmanship as she wrote about the new Transfiguration Professor politely offering to accompany her to the funeral.

With a sigh, he doled out the correct amount of currency in exchange for the elaborately-wrapped book and realized that he did, in fact, owe Minerva McGonagall a decent gift for more than just her recent help with Hermione.

Though nothing bars it from being in Slytherin colors, he smirked to himself as he pocketed his minimized purchase and exited the shop.

He strode about the crowded streets for several minutes, mulling over his options, before once again spotting the long, red hair of the Weasley girl. Casually he wondered what would have upset her enough to seek out comfort in Potter's arms in the middle of Hogsmeade two weeks before Christmas.

Hold on. Potter? Snape halted suddenly in his tracks, causing a middle-aged witch to bump into him with a squeak. As she mumbled an apology and pushed past him, the wizard snapped his eyes back to the small alleyway beside Ollivander's Wand Shop. He paused long enough to ascertain the identity of the two individuals as Ginevra Weasley and Harry Potter, and then cursed under his breath as he visually scoured the area.

Where the hell is Hermione?

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"Merry Christmas," Hermione smiled to the clerk at J. Pippin's Potions as she grabbed the small bag from the counter. Her grin slowly faded upon exiting the apothecary, however, as her personal bodyguard was nowhere within sight. Having promised to be quick, she had suggested that Harry could stand outside and keep an eye out for Cormac while she made her purchase. He had said he would wait for her as long as they could stop by Spintwitches and look at the Quidditch supplies. She had agreed, but it appeared now that the boy had not held up his end of the bargain.

"Harry James Potter," she muttered beneath her breath as she walked along the edge of the street, "I am going to kill you."

She peeked through the surrounding shop windows and explored a few of the nearest side streets looking to no avail. Making up her mind to head to Spintwitches to check for him there, she quickly spun around and ran full tilt into Cormac McLaggen.