"I owe you an apology, Miss Granger."

Hermione nearly choked on her tea. Several days had passed since that cursed night in the library and she actually had convinced herself that Snape would not talk about it and pretend like nothing ever happened. But of course, he had to disappoint her.

"I should have left the moment I realised what was happening. Staying was inappropriate and an invasion of your privacy. I was wrong to do that."

She could feel her cheeks burn hot from the shame that gripped her body. All she could do was stare at her plate, breathing in and out. Why would he bring it up? What did he expect her to say to that? What would anyone even say to that?

Desperately, she searched for the mature lady in herself. The past few days, she attended every dinner with the family and felt herself grow confident that she could pass as an adult, a mature witch that was taken seriously. Now though, she was back to feeling like a little school girl. This would not do.

She drew a shuttering breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and then turned deliberately to the man at the other end of the breakfast table. "Why did you do it then?"

Snape blinked as he held her gaze. He was even harder to read than before. As though whatever wall he put around his emotions was thicker than ever. Even when he apologised, his voice was so cool and even, it could have come from a robot.

"I have no excuse for my actions. There is no point in trying to explain myself. I wronged you and for that, I apologise."

Hermione wanted nothing more than to put this conversation behind her and forget all about it. But she could feel that something was not quite right here. Trying to supress the anxious trembling, she got up from her chair and slowly approached Snape at the head of the table. As elegantly as she could manage, she sunk down on the chair to his right, never taking her eyes off him.

"Let me guess," she purred quietly, "your master put you up to this?"

"No." The answer came quickly and sounded firm. But Snape didn't look at her as he said it. Something definitely was wrong.

She felt no pity for him, but if Voldemort was playing games again, she could not let that slide. Nothing was more dangerous to her than the lack of information.

She leaned forward and tilted her head, intruding into his field of vision and thus forcing him to look her in the eye. "What is this, then? True remorse?"

He held her stare for a long time, his face closed off and unmoving. She wondered whether he was using Legilimency on her, but she could feel no intrusion. Finally, he let out a sigh, one quiet sound that showed more emotion than she ever expected from him.

"Miss Granger, sometimes I wonder whether you truly know who you are dealing with. Every word from your mouth leaves the impression that you think nothing of our lord."

"Are you afraid of him?"

"I would be a fool not to be." The statement was plain and expected, but the way he carefully pronounced every word, the way he held her gaze as he said it, told her that he truly felt it.

A small smile tugged on her lips before she could control herself. "Don't worry, professor. You were meant to see that. He doesn't hold it against you."

For a split second, his eye wandered. To her lips, to her shoulders, to her fingers. Then he looked back at her, composed and emotionless as always. "I am well aware."

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms before her chest. She got the distinct impression that Snape was even more lifeless than usual, but she couldn't figure out why. It couldn't be because of the library incident. The past three days, he had acted normal, as any day before that. Something had to have happened the day before that he suddenly felt the need to apologise.

And that something definitely had something to do with Voldemort.

"What are you not telling me?" Hermione didn't expect him to answer that, but she didn't know what else to do.

He raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at her. With that, she saw her teacher again, the Potions master that would stalk the classroom, rolling his eyes at the stupidity of every student, correcting mistakes with little patience.

Blushing, she lowered her eyes. She hated how easily he could make her feel like the stupidest person in the world. It was unfair that a traitor and murderer like him could make her feel bad about herself.

Still feeling the warmth of her pink cheeks, she looked back up at him again, scowling with new found determination. "I heard you needed protection against my attacks at the end of our little duel."

"I did."

She blinked. So, Voldemort had been telling the truth. A selfish part of her had always assumed that was the case, but the more rational one had remained sceptical. Or perhaps that rational part was in truth self-sabotaging?

"Doesn't it bother you? A mudblood beating you, the Dark Lord's right hand?"

Snape's eye twitched. "You shouldn't use that word, Miss Granger. Words have a way of making us believe there is truth in them, even if they're nonsense."

She scoffed. "I don't even know where to start with that. You want me to believe you are against using the one word everyone on your side loves to throw around?"

"Whatever I do or say, it is always in service of our lord."

Hermione groaned. Why was she even talking to this man? What did she care if he suddenly behaved strangely? He was stonewalling her at every step. She would never get anything out of him. His single-minded devotion to Voldemort was as annoying as it was revolting. She had always thought her Potions professor to be highly intelligent. Hearing him talk now made her feel like she had to reassess him.

"Forget it," she hissed as she stood up.

Without looking back, she left the breakfast room. The only saving grace for this ruined morning was that Rabastan had not joined them. She would return to her room, read the books she took from the library, and focus on finding out what Voldemort wanted from her.

As she took the first step on the stairs leading up, she froze. That night in the library, he had pulled out a book that he wanted her to read. How could she forget that? He never ended up giving it to her.

Cursing, she turned around and stomped her way to the library instead. How could she allow this monster to override all her rational thoughts with the merest touch of his fingers? Whenever she closed her eyes now, she saw his face. Grey skin, snake-like eyes, non-existent nose. What should appear monstrous instead just raised her curiosity. And arousal. When she pictured his face, she couldn't help but remember how good his touch felt. How much she craved the same power and control over magic that he possessed.

Shaking her head in determination, she reached for the door to the library and opened it noiselessly. The grand hall lay in a twilight this early in the day, tinting all colours in grey and beige tones. It smelled like paper and old leather. The stillness of the air here felt like a comforting hug to Hermione. Once more, she wished the owned a library like this.

With more confidence than before, she strode through the long rows of books, crossing from one end to the other, where the desk was that Voldemort had discarded the book on. As she rounded one row of bookshelves, her eyes fell on the desk in question.

"Hello, my sweet." Voldemort looked up at her, smiling as though he had expected her.

Scowling, she plopped down in a chair across from where he was sitting. "What are you doing here?"

He closed the book in his hands with a snap and held it up. "Reading, obviously. I expected you earlier, but it seems this little book has slipped your mind. Were you distracted?"

She only rolled her eyes at that, concentrating on the title of the book instead. "Magic as it pertains to the Self," she whispered.

Voldemort nodded. "It's an old tome that I dug up many years ago here in the Malfoy library. I doubt anyone of the family ever touched it. Their mistake. They might disregard it as obscure, but it is very enlightening. I was just reading through a few chapters I didn't pay much attention to previously."

"And this explains whatever this aura magic is?" She took the book from him and flipped it open.

"It's not the main topic of the book, but yes, it touches on it in ways that other books do not."

Hermione quickly read through the table of contents. She immediately understood what he meant by obscure. "Self-expression in magic. Interpersonal weaving of arcane potential. Junctions of power." She frowned. "This all seems rather … grandiose?"

He laughed. "Pretentious you mean? It does indeed. You have to cut through the fancy words to get to the true meaning. But if you do, you'll learn something. Trust me."

"I'll happily read whatever I can. If it's nonsense, I'll realise that on my own." She closed it again and put it on her lap, just to make sure she wouldn't forget about it again.

Voldemort still sat there, smiling, studying her. She felt the urge to flee, unnerved as so often by his strangely open and almost warm treatment of her. But she couldn't do that. She was playing the role of Hermione, the confident, mature witch that was not easily impressed. And she had a question that she wanted answered.

She put one elbow on the table to her left, leaning her tilted head on her hand, and looked up at him. She purposefully curved her body a little more so that her breasts were pressed against the edge of the wooden table. Through heavy lids, she smiled at Voldemort.

"What did you do to Snape?"

To her surprise, her question wiped the smile from Voldemort's lips. "Why? Did he say something to you?"

Unnerved, she hesitated for a moment before replying, "He apologised for the library incident. He didn't say anything before today, so I didn't expect him to mention it at all."

He scoffed. "Of course he would."

"So you did do something."

A calculating expression entered his eyes. His gaze that was studying her intently before suddenly made the hairs on her neck stand up. She swallowed and forced herself to keep the sensual smile on her lips.

"I discovered something new about him. Surprising, as I thought I knew the man." He leaned forward and put a hand on her cheek, caressing her temple as he stared deeply into her eyes. "Maybe you can help me with this. Would you do that, my sweet?"

She pushed the shock that she felt down. Instead, she straightened a little, turned her head ever so slightly, and ghosted a kiss against his long fingers. "Of course."

"Even if it means spending more time with him?"

"It sounds like you want to use me against him. Do I have that right?" Voldemort simply nodded. Hermione put one hand on his. "Then it is no question. If I can do something to hurt the bastard, I'll gladly help." Her words sounded steely and aggressive to her own ears. When it came to Snape, she didn't even have to pretend to be full of hateful determination. It came natural to her.

"I'm happy to hear that. I will instruct Severus to include you in the apparition exception at Hogwarts so you are free to go whenever you like." He pulled her in for a quick kiss as he said that.

Perplexed, Hermione stared at him. "You want me to visit Hogwarts?"

"Severus is still the headmaster. I can't expect him to spend all his time here, so naturally, you will need to go to him sometimes." He said it so matter-of-factly as though there was nothing wrong with the arrangement.

"You are sure that you want me to have free access to the school at all times?"

Voldemort laughed. "Oh, I see. Let me clarify then. You will be allowed to meet Severus, but if I ever detect any hints of secret meetings with other people, be it teachers or students, you will instantly lose the free access again. And we both know you wouldn't simply run away, right?"

She swallowed. Of course, she would not be allowed to try and make contact with Ginny or Neville, as much as she hoped it could be possible. And of course, she knew she couldn't run away. He would always find her.

"What do you want me to do?"

She could see amusement and triumph glitter in his eyes as he answered. "I want you to learn Occlumency from Severus."