Severus walked slowly along the wide path towards the large gate that led to Malfoy Manor. He could have apparated right in front of it, but he had decided on a spot about a mile away to have a few minutes to himself in the windy quiet of the hill country. He needed a clear head to make the necessary preparations with Hermione this weekend without anyone in the house noticing. He had returned to Hogwarts last Sunday with a strange feeling. Something wasn't right in this house.

Of course, he was aware that Lucius had probably slept with Hermione several times before. She was his slave, after all, and hardly any other Death Eater was as kind to their female slaves as he was. And yet. She had not given the impression of being as disturbed by it as she had been after her experience with him. On the contrary, she had seemed like the strong, young woman he knew from Hogwarts, who had hunted down Horcruxes without hesitation. She had even been strong enough to shed tears for him, her rapist. He stood still.

Was it possible that there was something more between his old friend Lucius Malfoy and his new ally Hermione Granger than just the relationship of master and slave? He strained to recall all the interactions he had witnessed between the two, but none of it was revealing. Sure, Lucius had brought her to him when she had contracted life-threatening hypothermia, and it had been Narcissa herself who had accused him of feeling too much for Hermione. He shared this suspicion, but had thought it was one-sided. An old man's excessive interest in a young woman's body. Was Hermione possibly reciprocating these feelings?

He was a fool. Why hadn't he considered this possibility before he let Hermione in on his plans? Sure, he had warned her emphatically last week not to trust anyone, not to tell anyone anything, but at the end of the day, she was just a woman, a child who could barely think straight for all her feelings. A woman in love was an incalculable risk.

With a furrowed brow, Snape continued on his way. If his fears were correct, he had a problem. But there was more. It wasn't just his mind that had been thrown into turmoil by this idea. He felt betrayed. She hadn't resisted his kiss, she hadn't just smiled gently at him once, she had trusted him despite everything he had done to her. If she was sleeping with Lucius willingly and of her own accord, if she was perhaps even in love with him, why was she behaving like this towards him? Last week, he had smiled inwardly at the fact that she had occasionally acted like a woman in love with him for a brief moment. Against his will, he had drawn satisfaction from the fact that a human being, a woman, could actually see him with such eyes. It had done him good and, for a moment, dispelled the cursed tiredness that usually paralysed him. And now?

What was he actually thinking about here? Of course, a woman like Hermione Granger would never be interested in him, no matter how much his narcissistic self misinterpreted her gaze, his mind knew better. And it was completely irrelevant. He needed her for his plan, that was all there was between them. He would feel her out to see if she had gotten carried away in a sentimental moment and told Lucius too much, and if she hadn't, she could continue to have this sick relationship with her master. That was none of his business.

oOoOoOo

Hermione bent nervously over her parchment. She knew that Snape would be back for tea today, that he would take her to the herb garden again afterwards and fill her in on more details. The last few days had been strange, because as much as she had tried to behave normally towards the Malfoy family, Lucius had avoided her. And now this: as had been his habit for weeks, he was sitting behind her on the sofa, his eyes fixed on her back, silent. He hadn't watched her work in the library for a long time, so why today of all days? Was it because he had watched the kiss between her and Snape last week and suddenly remembered it now that the visit was imminent?

The rustling of his cloak made her freeze. A warm hand was placed on her shoulder, causing her to look up at him involuntarily. "Can I do something for you?"

"Hermione," he whispered barely audibly, "We both know who's coming to tea today. I..."

He broke off and looked around uneasily. Hesitantly, he crouched down in front of her, one hand on the back of her chair, the other on her knee, and leant even closer to her. As he continued to speak more quietly than before, she involuntarily leant further towards him. "I know you don't believe me. You don't believe that I would like to be on your side. But whether you believe it or not, it's the truth. And ... if Severus is there later ... you'll certainly go into the garden together again. No matter what you talk about or how deeply he probes, please, please don't tell him. He's my friend and he behaved perfectly properly when Narcissa sent him after me, but I know that if he finds out I'm not a loyal Death Eater... he won't be able to help but report it to the Dark Lord. He won't risk his life for mine. So ... I'm counting on you to keep quiet."

Hermione wanted to laugh out loud. Malfoy's concern was justified from his point of view, but simply ironic from hers. Snape, of all people, would be the last person to betray Malfoy to Voldemort. But she took her master's fear seriously. "Unless you want me to, I will not speak to anyone about what you have entrusted to me. Never. You are my master and I respect your wishes."

"Only because I'm your master?" Lucius asked as his hand began to stroke her thigh. Hermione could only shake her head. It obviously affected this man deeply that she didn't want to let him in on all her thoughts, he had even deliberately kept his distance, but as soon as he was near her again, as soon as they were alone, he was craving her body again?

"How many times are we going to have this conversation?" she asked, but she realised that her voice sounded much less dismissive than she intended.

"Until you tell me that you don't just see me as your master. But also a man," he declared as he rose from his crouch and stood up with as much pride as he could muster. "Yes, I'm a Malfoy and everything that goes with it. But I'm also a man. A man who desires a woman who is his equal, who can satisfy him in every way."

Hermione also got up from her chair to stand directly in front of him. "But we are not equal. You are my master."

"How can I be your master when I'm so devoted to you?" he asked quietly. Then, before Hermione could answer, he took her face in both hands and kissed her.

There was so much tenderness in that kiss that she couldn't help but pull away from him again immediately. "I have to set the table for the visitors."

Lucius looked after her grimly. Just as she reached the large double doors of the library, he called after her, "You can sleep with me, but not return my feelings? I didn't think it was possible for such a woman to exist!"

Sighing, Hermione turned to him once more. "If you want to put it that way, yes. You've shown me a new world, a world where I can find oblivion and understanding. Through you. I accept that gladly and gratefully. And I know you are happy to give it, because you can forget too. But, and I can't remember how many times I've said this, that's all there is. I can't love you, not the way you want me to. And I'm sure you don't love me either, at least not the way you think you do."

With these words, Hermione disappeared from the library for good. Lucius was left pondering. She had spoken of love without him being sure whether it was really love that he felt for her. Affection, yes, amorous feelings, yes. He was no longer a youngster who could woo a woman with romantic gestures. He simply wanted an equal partner at his side who would help him to become that self-confident man again who came across as arrogant and patronising to other people, just as he had been in the past with Narcissa at his side. Was that love?

oOoOoOo

Snape watched the tea party attentively, but outwardly as calm and stoic as ever. What had blossomed again between Narcissa and Lucius last weekend seemed to have stabilised over the week, for there was still attention and respect on his side and loving affection on hers. Still, Narcissa might not realise it, but his trained eye couldn't help but notice that Lucius' heart wasn't in it. They were rehearsed movements and words, routine patterns that he went through without much thought.

He also noticed the looks that Hermione sometimes gave him, sometimes Lucius. Sure, at first glance her face was expressionless and uninvolved, but whenever he met her gaze, he saw an expectant glint in her eyes, and whenever she looked at Lucius, that glint disappeared and gave way to a thoughtful, sad expression. And then there was Draco, who kept looking back and forth between Hermione and his father, as if he also suspected that there was more between them.

Only Narcissa was obviously too busy playing the role of hostess and good wife to realise that she was a marginal figure in this picture, not the queen who dominated the chessboard, but a pawn whose whereabouts none of those present were interested in. He hoped it would stay that way, because another report to Bellatrix, which would certainly inform Voldemort, had the potential to destroy all his plans.

"It will be dark soon, Severus," Narcissa addressed him, "Would you rather check on the plants right now?"

He inclined his head briefly. "Yes, that's a good suggestion. The first cup of your heavenly tea has already been enough to shake all the tiredness of the past week from my limbs. And if you don't need your slave right now ..."

"Don't worry, Severus, she's not needed here."

With another nod, he rose and motioned for Hermione to join him. The flickering sideways glance she gave Lucius did not escape his notice, nor did the serious look he gave her in response. The brief smile, which seemed almost designed to reassure the head of the house, made Snape wonder. No one but him seemed to have noticed this brief interaction, but now he was even more certain than before that Hermione did not seem completely averse to her owner.

Wordlessly, he slipped on his coat, handed Hermione a pair of boots and a warm cloak as well as the basket, and then walked quickly along the now familiar path. When they had left the house far behind, he broke the silence. "Things are going well between you and Lucius, yes?"

The caught expression on her face annoyed him. Why couldn't she control her emotions better?

"What do you mean?"

"That was a very sweet smile you just gave him."

That wasn't what he'd meant to say. Yes, he did want to point out the smile to her, but his words sounded inappropriate even to his ears.

"Oh, that," she mumbled, not responding to his odd choice of words, "He was just asking me to be wary of you, and I let him know with the smile that I would take his advice to heart."

"Wary of me?"

Why did he get the feeling that she wasn't telling him the whole truth? And why did she look as if she didn't know how to answer that question?

"Miss Granger," he said sternly, "we talked last week about how you shouldn't trust anyone. I can't help thinking that you broke your word - that you did talk."

"I didn't give anything away!" she exclaimed defiantly. "I'm not as stupid as you're making me out to be! Do you really think I would betray our plan to Malfoy of all people? Is that what you're saying?"

"Obviously."

He could see that this made her angry, but he had to voice his concerns, silence was useless here, he had to know where he stood.

"Do you really think that badly of me?"

The softly whispered words made him freeze. There it was again, that look, that tone of voice, that behaviour that made him believe that his good opinion was important to her, that she was perhaps even more interested in him than was necessary for the plan. He couldn't let it get to him, he had to concentrate.

"Are you trying to wrap me round your little finger, Miss Granger?"

"Pardon?"

Her surprise sounded genuine. "I've spent my life studying other people, learning to read their facial expressions, interpreting their behaviour. You are acting like a woman in love with me. But since I know that you are not in love, I have to question your motives for such behaviour."

"I... what?" Hermione stuttered. Did Snape really just insinuate that she was in love with him? How could a person be so sure of himself that he could say something like that to another person's face? And where did he get the idea? He would be the last man she would fall in love with, he had to realise that.

That she was happy to receive praise from him, that she wanted him to have a good opinion of her, was just a knee-jerk reaction that she hadn't been able to shed since her time at Hogwarts. That the suggestion of what he had done for the Order and for Harry and for her had been enough to move her to tears had been the normal reaction of a sensitive person. If anything, he could blame her for smiling willingly at him more than once. But that didn't mean anything either, the smile had just come naturally, she hadn't done it on purpose, she had just looked at him and smiled. He really couldn't blame her for that!