9

Hermione woke up spluttering with a foul taste in her mouth. Snape was looming over her looking rather amused. She glared at him, thinking he was amused at her expense, but he just smiled even more and stepped back.

"Dinner is served," he said almost jovially before handing over her wand and heading out of the room. She sat up in the bed watching him go, carefully holding the covers up to preserve her modesty. She swore his robes were billowing more than usual, and wondered if that was Snape's equivalent to a bounce in his step. He did look almost cheerful...

After he closed the door, she quickly dressed herself, then moved Ron back over to the bed proper. She didn't want to risk the failure of the transfiguration what with his delicate condition. All in all, it only took three minutes before she was out in Snape's office, staring at him eating with a gusto she'd never seen before.

He gestured for her to sit and join him, which she did, although cautiously. His mood was not one she had ever seen in him before, and it was more than a little unnerving.

She watched him cautiously for the length of the meal, and it wasn't until he leaned back with a satisfied sigh that she dared say anything.

"I take it the meeting went well?"

He raised his glass of wine to her and nodded. "In one aspect, it went rather well, yes."

"Only one?"

His smirk faded a little. "Yes. Only one. The other subjects broached were less than thrilling."

"Dare I ask?"

"I suppose so, as they pertain to you. The Dark Lord has decreed that I should flaunt you. He was rather unhappy that I've kept you hidden away so well. He didn't spell it out explicitly, but I am assuming that he will want you present for the return feast tomorrow night."

"And I'm assuming that means I'll be on display like some slave-girl?"

Snape nodded, looking disgusted. "Nothing extreme, with the exception of some obvious bondage." He sighed. "I think it would be best if you stood by the wall behind my chair for the meal. Will that be adequate?"

She frowned unhappily. "I suppose so. I'd rather be standing against the wall than kneeling at your side the entire meal. And at least that way, I won't be in the other teachers' faces."

Snape nodded. "Yes, that's what I was thinking as well." He drew a breath, looking hesitant. "I also thought that perhaps you would come down to breakfast with me. It would be best to let the other teachers know you're here before the children get back, and I'm hoping to stage some sort of conversation with Alecto to try and assuage the other teachers' outrage about the new situation."

Hermione nodded wordlessly, fruitlessly trying to think of some way to let the other, good, teachers know that she wasn't being mistreated. That it wasn't as bad as it looked.

"Will Poppy be there?"

Severus shook his head. "No. I'm afraid that she rarely attends meals with us, preferring to stay in the hospital wing in case of any unexpected accidents. Especially this year."

"Doesn't she have friends on staff?"

"Of course she does. As I gather, she and Minerva are quite close."

Hermione felt a little smile peek through her gloom. "Good. That means McGonagall will be likely to take her tales of horror to her after breakfast."

Snape, however, looked horrified. "You don't think Poppy would tell them not to worry or anything as blatant as that?"

Hermione shook her head quickly. "No, but she's in a better position to subtly assuage their outrage than you are."

Snape looked doubtful. "Perhaps I should talk to Poppy just in case..."

"Just trust her, sir."

Snape's face contorted into the sneer he wore whenever he saw Harry, but Hermione was saved from a scathing retort by Dumbledore's portrait.

"Miss Granger is right, Severus. Poppy will not give you away needlessly."

Snape whirled on the portrait. "Needlessly? Needlessly? I do not want her giving me away at all!"

"She is not going to stand by and see you lynched, my boy."

"If that's what happens, she should!"

"That wouldn't be in the best interests of the students, or Harry, or the wizarding world, though, sir," Hermione interjected quietly.

Hopes of Snape having not heard her quailed as she saw Snape tense up, then slowly turn to face her. His face was frozen with rage.

"How would revealing my true role be a benefit to the war effort, Miss Granger?"

Hermione took a nervous step back, but lifted her chin defiantly. "If it were a case of you either being a dead Death Eater or saved Order member, saving you would mean we'd still have you alive to help us."

Snape gave her the glare reserved for the dimmest dunderheads. "Oh, and that would be so helpful, I can tell you. The only role I can see myself being helpful in is as a decoy, and pardon me if I find that a less than appealing role."

"Oh, give yourself some credit, sir!" Hermione cried, losing patience. "You've got to be one of the most powerful wizards alive! And not only are you powerful, but you're brilliant. Even if it was just as an adviser, with your help we could win the war."

Snape didn't immediately bite her head off as she'd expected. Instead, he just observed her coldly.

"What did I tell you about romanticism, Hermione?"

"Well, we might as well be dead without hope, sir."

"You overestimate me."

"You underestimate yourself."

"I could be playing you right now. I am not a good man."

"Bullshit, sir."

He raised his eyebrow at that, caught by surprise. Hermione pressed her luck, swallowing before saying, "Yes, I suppose you could be playing me, but if you were, wouldn't you have changed your Patronus to a phoenix, or something equally obviously associated with Dumbledore and the Order? But you didn't. I don't think that's because you think I'm smart or cynical enough to doubt such an obvious symbol, because you had never given me any indication that you thought I was anything but a know-it-all who had a good memory. No. Instead, your Patronus was a deer. The same deer that led Harry to the real Sword of Gryffindor. And if you were playing me, then you would have to be playing Voldemort as well, because I seriously doubt he would want you to be giving us help like that!"

"Patronuses can't--" He stopped and seemed to think better of what he was about to say. Instead he spat, "You could have been Confunded. It could have been a goat or a dog, but you only remember it as a doe."

"But I never saw it! Only Harry did. And if you were close enough to Harry to Confund him, why didn't you stun and deliver him to your 'master'? Besides which, what is a loyal Death Eater doing casting Patronuses in the first place? It is a spell for the protection against Dark Arts. As far as I know, it isn't possible to use a Patronus evilly."

"I could be in the practice of casting Patronuses because I search for potions ingredients in lethifold territory. I could be handy at the charm because I was sent to spy on the Order. There are many reasons why a loyal Death Eater would cast a Patronus to fool a naive girl into believing he was loyal to her side."

"And arguing about them with me is the best way to keep up the game?" Hermione asked snidely.

He smirked. "If what I want is to keep you on your toes, yes."

Hermione was unconvinced. "Well, if that's what you want me to believe, you'll have to provide more persuasive arguments than that. As it is, I am considering you innocent until proven guilty."

Snape stared at her, nonplussed for a moment before swelling in rage. Hermione stepped back, suddenly alarmed, though also confused as to why her statement would be angering him so.

He stared at her from his ashen face. "You stupid girl!" he yelled. "You are completely at my mercy right now, and you blindly, stubbornly, recklessly endanger not only your life but your boyfriend's life by believing me innocent until proven guilty? You are a fucking idiot to do so on such paltry evidence!"

She stepped forward, throwing her arms wide to present an open target. "Well if I'm an idiot, here you go! Do your worst!"

Snape flexed his hand and raised his wand, aiming it at her heart. She held her breath, wondering if she had pushed him too far, but then he lowered the wand, still looking angry.

"Go tend to Weasley," he said through tight lips. She hesitated, prompting a harsh, "NOW!"

She bolted to the bedroom, closing the door behind her forcefully, not sure whether it was from fear or anger. She heard what sounded like furniture being thrown about and flinched, edging away from the door. When something crashed against the door, she jumped back, quickly casting a shielding and locking charm on the door to protect it from being broken in the face of his temper.

She backed up to the bed and only when she turned to look at Ron did she realize she was crying. She blinked and wiped her eyes until he came into focus, and then collapsed onto her knees, sobbing into the duvet on the bed.