46- Getting to Know You

Standard Disclaimer goes here.

Author's Note: Well, dear readers, it's Spring Break, which of course means that I have a tiny bit of time to write. LOL Thus, you are getting this chapter now by virtue of me spending 2 days in front of my computer as much as I could get away with outside of work and sleep and eating and other various and sundry tasks. Uber-thanks as always go out to my intrepid beta, Ladyofthemasque, and to SnivellusSnape for sounding board action. Hope you all enjoy learning about our beloved couple in this chapter. And thank you to everyone who reads my little labour of love, and to those of you who review: you make my day! :)

Cheers! Nicole aka Good_Witch

p.s. don't forget my LJ at http://pern-dragon.livejournal.com/

Chapter 46- Getting to Know You

Snape arrived back in his bedroom, satisfied that he had successfully scouted Hermione's room, but disconcerted by the things he found there. Realizing that he'd have to wait to ask her about them later...whenever he either confessed to his intrusion or showed up and surprised her...he resolutely put the matter out of his mind and determined that he should carry on as usual. Briskly crossing through his quarters and lab into his office, he picked up a stack of papers that still needed abusing...well, grading, rather...and swept into the classroom, intent on getting as much done as he could before his second period class arrived.

Settling himself at his desk, he twitched a paper from the stack, grabbing his quill and reaching forward to dip it in the red inkpot. Blinking, he looked more closely at his sleeve, frowning as something unusual caught his eye. What was that? Lifting his arm toward his face, his brows rose and his eyes widened in dismay. Heart beating faster at the idea that he could have forgotten such a basic cover-your-arse, he stared at the ginger hairs stuck to his sleeve, standing out like a beacon against the black fabric. Swallowing against a suddenly dry throat, he pointed his wand at the cat hairs and muttered, "Scourgify." They disappeared from his sleeve, fluttering off the fabric and sprinkling along his desk.

Snape scowled and pushed back in his chair, peering down at his robes. There! Ginger hairs were everywhere, clinging to his clothes! Standing, he brandished his wand at his robes, hissing an agitated, "Scourgify!" The hairs wafted away, floating to the stone floor. Rolling his eyes in exasperation, he mentally congratulated himself on never having had a cat, and aimed his wand at the scattering of hairs all over the floor and his desk top. "Evanesco!" Thankfully, they disappeared. Heaving a sigh of relief, he twisted and turned, eyeing his robes critically. Finally! Secure that they were free from clinging hairs that would certainly invite questions, he sat at his desk again, cradling his head in his hands, shaken by his lack of attention.

Really, if you can't pay attention to what's going on around you...hell, even on you...then you have no business whatsoever pretending to be a practised spy! That was an inexcusable near miss... Perhaps you should rethink your clandestine behaviours, if you are going to be so careless about them. This is not a game, and the repercussions are severe! I suggest you think long and hard about trying such reckless stunts again anytime soon.

Thus chastened by his own voice of reason, he took a deep breath and resumed his grading, shaking his head at himself as the bell rang for the end of first period.

********* ***************

Friday rolled around, and Hermione was once again furtively eyeing Snape at the High Table, sipping her tea with honey and lemon as she waited for him to collect her on their way to the dungeons. Of course, she had her scroll of questions. This time, at least, they'd not have to rush or be secretive when talking.

Harry was across from her, wistfully remarking, "I wish I could get a Friday night off," as he turned an envious eye on the Gryffindors not needed at rehearsal that night.

Ginny squeezed his thigh in reassurance. "Look at it this way: there'd really be no point in you getting a Friday night off if I still had to rehearse, right?" She grinned impishly at him. "So, since I have to be there...even though I don't have any lines!...you may as well be there too!" With that, she gave a decided nod and sniggered at Harry's wry grin.

Hermione smiled. "She's got a point, Harry."

Harry grimaced at her and said, "I know that, thank-you-very-much. No need to rub it in..."

They all laughed. In her peripheral vision, Hermione saw Snape rising from the High Table and descending from the dais. Hastily composing herself, she gathered her things and pushed back from the table, standing as Snape strode down the aisle by the Gryffindor table. Harry's laughter died as he watched the sour man glaring coldly at the students as he passed them. Stone-faced, he glared right back when Snape stopped by Hermione.

Hermione offered a polite, "Good evening, Professor Snape," glancing in irritation at Harry's expression.

Ginny ground her heel on Harry's toe, saying, "Evening, Professor." Harry scowled and shot her a pained, indignant look.

Snape guessed what the girl was doing and bit back a smirk. Eyes narrowing, he murmured, "Miss Granger. Miss Weasley." Relishing the opportunity to exhibit a little more couth than the boy, Snape coolly nodded at Harry and added, "Mr. Potter." All three students cut a surprised glance at him, but Harry looked especially suspicious. Lips twitching in amusement, Snape turned to Hermione and said, "Come along, Miss Granger." Flicking another glance at Harry and Ginny, he swept down the aisle, Hermione a step behind him.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Harry hissed angrily, "What did you do that for? That hurt!"

Ginny glared heatedly at him. "When are you going to get over yourself? There's no reason you can't behave with some civility, Harry James Potter! Why don't you try looking past your old prejudices and giving the man a chance, huh?"

Harry's eyes widened in incredulity. "Are you serious? The man's a menace!"

Ginny huffed and primly replied, "He was civil to me, and he's been civil to me ever since we began this production. I think it's changed him. I'm sure I'm not the only one to think so either. The least you could do is pretend you have manners."

Harry blinked in astonishment. Voice faint, he said, "You girls baffle me..."

Cuttingly, Ginny retorted, "That much is obvious..."

Frowning, Harry pushed back from the table. "Forget it. I'm gonna' go sit with Ron. I'll see you at rehearsal."

Ginny watched him go, petulance personified. Rolling her eyes, she sighed. Inner voice sounding both annoyed and a trifle sad, she thought, If only I could get him to start seeing Snape as a person before the end of the year... Honestly, Hermione's gonna' need all the help she can get in predisposing folk to accept her and Snape as a couple. Harry's the one with the strongest antipathy. I think everyone else'll be able to come 'round eventually... Lips thinning in determination, she added, Well, I'm not giving up, so he'll just have to get over it! At that, she rose and joined Neville further down the table, chatting pleasantly about the rehearsal to come.

As soon as Snape and Hermione exited the Hall and stepped to one side of the doorway, Snape paused, grabbing Hermione's elbow. Hermione glanced up sharply, and he nodded, muttering, "Ready?" She inclined her head and secured her grip on his arm, and Snape Disapparated.

They appeared in his sitting room. Immediately, he looked down at her and his expression relaxed into a fond smile. She smiled back, and they stepped closer, embracing each other in welcome. At Hermione's contented coo, Snape chuckled, and Hermione heard the rumble where her ear was pressed against his chest. Pulling back just enough to be able to look up at him, she sighed and said, "Hi."

Reaching up and caressing her hair, Snape replied, "Hello, love." He gazed at her for a moment before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on her lips. When she reacted and made to deepen the kiss, Snape pulled back and chided, "Come now, first things first."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione huffed and squirmed out of his arms. Aggrieved, she said, "Fine," grimacing at him and crossing to the bathroom for the hair products. Snape smiled after her indulgently, feeling his heart beating faster with the thrill of happiness that coursed through him at being with her. He sat, waiting for her to return.

Hermione bustled in, deposited the hair stuff on the side table, and resolutely pulled her scroll from her robes. Snape eyed it with a little shake of the head and a suppressed sigh. Hermione's keen observational skills catching those minute signs, she said, "Now, Severus, stop that. You know it's not all that horrid. Besides, I thought that since we have a little more time to ourselves tonight, we could trade off asking questions. Isn't that a bit more fair?"

Snape cocked an eyebrow at her, mildly surprised. "Well, yes." Hermione unrolled the parchment and he added, "So, who goes first? And, am I to ask whatever I wish?"

That made Hermione pause, frowning in consideration. Chewing her lip for a moment, she said, "Well, I was hoping we could talk about the things I have in here, but," she added magnanimously, "if you cannot find anything in here that you wish to ask, you may come up with something else." She nodded at him with the air of one conferring a great favour, and Snape stifled a snort. Gravely handing the parchment to Snape, Hermione continued, "However, I do think that I've come up with rather a variety of questions, so I'm sure you'll find something."

Snape quirked his lips, taking the list and turning in his seat for Hermione to begin working on his hair. Holding the parchment high enough for her to see it over his shoulder, he said, "Very well, who goes first?"

Hermione retorted, "Well... since they are my questions, I think I should go first."

Snape snorted and murmured, "Of course. Fire away."

Hermione leant forward, scanning the list as she brushed through his hair. "All right, I'll start with something simple: What is your favourite colour...or colours, I suppose?"

Snape sniffed. "That's simple?"

Hermione frowned. "Isn't it? I daresay it's a simple enough question."

Snape smirked, murmuring, "Well, which would you like to know: favourite colour to look at, to wear, or to live with?" He smirked more as he felt her pause in her ministrations. He turned slowly to glance at her, and was met with a scowl.

"You're maddening, you know that?" Hermione pursed her lips in frustration and rolled her eyes. Cocking an eyebrow at him, she said, "Fine. Start with the first one," gripping the crown of his head and turning him away from her again.

Enjoying the way he confounded her, Snape blandly said, "Teal."

"What?"

"Teal."

"Teal what? Which one are you talking about?"

Slowly, Snape said, "The first colour is the one I most enjoy looking at. That is teal. Is there a problem?"

Hermione stepped around in front of him, gazing at him in consternation. With a vague gesture to his quarters and his person, she said, "I don't believe you. If you really liked teal so much, wouldn't there be some around here somewhere? You're just trying to mess with me."

Snape affected haughty indignation at her accusation. "On the contrary... One's favourite colour to look at is not necessarily one's favourite colour to live with. That would be brown." He paused for a bare moment before adding, "Obviously."

Hermione eyed him in astonishment for a moment before casting a long glance around the room. Her gaze took in the brown velvet chairs, the rich wood furnishings, and she remembered the chocolate and sienna colours of his bedspread and sheets. Blinking, she looked back at him. Lip curling in a petulant sneer, she said, "Well, I guess I needn't ask what your favourite colour to wear is, do I?"

Snape smiled serenely. "It would seem rather obvious, I suppose." His smile changed to one more mischievous and Hermione stuck her tongue out at him before she resumed her task. He chuckled under his breath at her exasperated sigh.

There was a moment of silence, and Snape prodded, "Aren't you going to tell me your favourites?"

Hermione's voice was poisonously sweet as she retorted, "Why, which one would you like to know first?"

Refusing to rise to her barb, Snape pleasantly replied, "Oh, whichever you like."

Snorting, Hermione gave in. "Going by your categories, I guess I'd say I like to look at purples and violets; I like to wear blues best; and I think earth tones, like tans and sand colours, are the easiest to live with. Satisfied?"

Snape's tone held mild rebuke when he said, "This was your idea, dearest..."

"I know, I know. All right then, your turn."

Snape lifted the parchment again and scanned it. His eyes lit up when he hit upon one particular question. Perfect! Now I won't have to worry about possibly slipping up and mentioning that furry beast without having properly met it yet... Affecting only polite interest, he said, "Ah, here we go. What sorts of pets have you had?"

Hermione blithely began, "Oh, well of course, right now I have Crookshanks. I got him in Diagon Alley at the Magical Menagerie right before third year. He's not just a cat; he's part Kneazle."

Ah! That certainly explains a lot.

Hermione continued, "It's quite interesting to see how intelligent he is sometimes. And he's a brilliant judge of character. Plus, he's very nice to cuddle with." She laughed.

"Is he the first pet you've had?"

"Oh, no. When I was in year three, I had a hamster. He was tan with little black marks, and he was so cute." Snape rolled his eyes at the squealing tone in her voice. "His name was Bandit, since his markings reminded me of an eye mask, like one a thief might wear."

Snape snorted lightly and drawled, "Clever."

Hermione buffeted his shoulder and protested, "I was eight! Give me a break!" Then she laughed, smoothing the pomade through his hair. "He lived a couple of years, and I didn't get any other pets after he died. So, what about you?"

Snape cleared his throat. "Well, I have only had one pet, but I didn't buy it. When I was a child, I found a turtle on the bank of the river near my home, and I brought it home to keep as a pet. Fortunately, I could supply food for it without having to buy it, as my parents weren't about to spend any on a ridiculous pet."

He felt Hermione's hand squeeze comfortingly on his shoulder. Gently, she said, "What was its name?"

Snape hesitated, then almost defiantly said, "Sheldon."

Hermione's brows rose, and she giggled. Almost instantly, she realised that that was not the most acceptable reaction. She could feel his body tense under her hand, and the whole air around him seemed to grow colder with frosty dignity.

His voice was stiff as he added, "It was a turtle. It had a shell. I was six."

Hermione impulsively wrapped her arms around him from behind, laying her chin on his shoulder and pressing her cheek against his ear. "I wasn't laughing at you, love, I promise. It does make sense; and really, it's quite clever for a six-year-old to play on words like that. I think it's darling."

Snape sniffed, feeling both mortified and appeased. Patting her arms, he growled, "It's one thing to appreciate the name; it's another thing to say it's 'darling.'" He grimaced. "Let's not use such terms again, shall we?"

Hermione laughed and kissed his cheek before straightening again. "Fine. Although, there's no shame in being cute at six, Severus. Matter of fact, it's rather an expectation. Of course, one wouldn't dare call you cute now..."

He whipped around to pin her with a stern glare, voice oozing offence as he spat, "I should think not!"

Hermione smiled at him indulgently and once again turned his head around. "Indeed. Now, sit still so I can finish. I'm almost done." She began gathering his hair for the elastic, peering over his shoulder at the list again. "Okay, here's another easy one. What are your favourite smells? Food and non-food."

Snape thought for a moment and replied, "Food: steak grilling over charcoal, and frying bacon."

Hermione snorted. "Carnivore much? I can just imagine hearing your arteries hardening from here."

Snape huffed and said, "And yours?"

Tightening the elastic around his hair and smoothing everything into place, Hermione said, "Baking bread, popping popcorn, and fresh-cut citrus." At that, she patted his shoulders to indicate she was done, and strode around to face him, smiling.

He looked up at her and smiled. Stretching his arms out, he nodded his head and beckoned, gesturing for her to join him in the chair. Beaming, she perched on his lap, squirming and shifting to get comfortable cuddling in his embrace. Sighing in contentment, she said, "What about non-food?"

Snape rested his chin on the top of her head and inhaled. "You mean, other than your hair?"

Hermione giggled and hugged him. "Yes, other than that."

Snape paused and said, "My potions storage. It always smells safe and secure, and comforting. It's like coming home."

Hermione tilted her head up to gaze in his face. "That's beautiful..." She moulded her hand to his jaw and kissed him.

When they separated, spurred on by her reaction, Snape continued, "Rain on the way in autumn. Especially if it's been crisp and chill, and the leaves have already turned. When the wind shakes them from the trees and the front moves in, I love the scent of the oncoming rain."

Hermione's eyes lit up in appreciation. Kissing him more fiercely, she broke away and murmured, "Remind me to be with you next autumn, when a shower approaches."

Snape grinned. His voice low, he nuzzled her ear and said, "I hope you'll always be with me, from summer on." He held her tight, revelling in the feel of her softness in his arms. They listened to each other's heartbeat for a long while, then Snape whispered, "What about you?"

Hermione dreamily sighed, "Mmm, the scent of new parchment. Petrol. Bergamot oil. And... your shirt."

He pulled back to look at her. Keeping his expression to one of puzzlement, he mentally crowed at what he was sure would be her confession. "My shirt?"

Hermione flushed, and she guiltily peeked up at him through her lashes. "I know I should have asked. Or, at least said something about it earlier. But, I suppose I should come clean. I took your shirt. The one..."

Snape cut her off, affecting indignation. "...That I wore to the cast party! You took it? Do you know how many times I've questioned the house-elves about losing my shirt? Really, Hermione, that was unfair. I suppose I shall have to offer an apology to them, but of course, I daren't say what actually happened. What on earth possessed you to abscond with my shirt?" He gazed at her in reproach, watching her bite her lower lip in shame.

"I'm sorry. Please don't be angry with me. I just... I wanted something to remind me of you... of the time we had spent together. It was all so wonderful, and I hated to leave. So, I shrank it and tucked it away in my things, and I've kept it with me in my bed ever since. It smells like you. In a way, it lets me sleep with you, even though you're not there..." She trailed off, voice waning to almost a whisper.

Her words had a singular effect on Snape. Love welled up within him, but it was accompanied by a surge of lust at the thought of sleeping with her. Inhaling sharply, his cock twitched against her legs, and his grip tightened around her. Her eyes went round and she looked up, unable to tear herself away from his intense gaze.

Breath shaky with the effort of maintaining control over his mutinous body, Snape whispered, "I cannot tell you how much I wish I were there." His hand slid along her thigh, cupping her arse and squeezing as he closed the short distance between them and stole her breath with a fiery kiss.

Hermione moaned into his mouth, trailing her hands around his neck and pressing her breasts against his chest. She could feel his erection prodding her legs, and she shuddered at the surge that spread into a slippery puddle in her knickers.

When they eventually parted again, both were panting for breath, wrestling against their desires to divest each other of clothing and consummate their relationship once and for all. Resting their foreheads against one another, Hermione sighed, "Good gods, Severus, I could kiss you forever."

Snape closed his eyes, breathing deeply, rebuilding his self-control. His tone was wistful as he replied, "As could I, my love." Lifting his head, he resolutely tucked hers beneath his chin, once again inhaling the intoxicating scent of her hair. Jaw throbbing as he clenched his teeth with effort, he muttered, "I beg you, Hermione, do not squirm. Not now."

It took a beat for his words to make sense, and when they did, Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a bark of laughter. Pulling back to look him in the face, her eyes were dancing with impish mirth, and he glared at her repressively. Swallowing her giggles, Hermione made a concerted effort to tamp down her heady feelings and cleared her throat. "Of course. Sorry." There was an awkward silence in which they were both obviously casting about for something to draw attention away from their indiscretions. Hermione glanced around and saw the parchment on the side table. "Oh! Um, your turn to ask a question." She looked at the time. "Provided we have the time. We could always go up early. Or walk up like before..."

Snape shook his head, loath to cut short his time alone with her. "No. We'll Apparate up." Grabbing the list, he saw a question that made one corner of his mouth quirk up in devilish amusement. "You say you could kiss me forever. Does that mean I am better than your first kiss? Tell me about it." He cocked one eyebrow at her, and she blinked in surprise.

"Oh! You're bloody well right you're better than my first kiss!" She shook her head and snorted. Glancing at him sceptically, she added, "Do you really want to know?"

Nodding, he assured her, "Yes. Do go on."

Giving him one last look of disbelief, she said, "All right. It was fourth year. I'm sure it won't be a surprise to you that it was with Viktor."

"Krum?"

Favouring him with an aggrieved look for being obtuse, she said, "Yes, Krum. How many Viktors were there?" She rolled her eyes and his lips twitched in amusement. "He kept coming to the library, and at first it was annoying, since he always had a fan club following him. But, he kept disappearing among the stacks until they'd leave, and then he'd sit near me and watch me study, nodding pleasantly. It got unnerving to have him just sit and stare, so I finally spoke to him, and I discovered that he's really very interesting, not just all Quidditch, like you might think he would be. Over the weeks, we became friends, and he'd help me find the books I needed for assignments."

"How kind of him."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Snape. "You asked!"

Snape inclined his head in apology. "I did indeed. Forgive me for interrupting. Please, continue."

Hermione sighed and resumed her tale. "One day...it was about two weeks before the Yule Ball...we were in the stacks, and he just sort of stepped up really close, and he got all nervous, trying to say something. He kept stuttering over words, and I finally stopped him and told him to relax and just say it, whatever it was. He smiled at that and said, 'I knew you were different from the other girls. Only you would not know what I am trying to do.' I was really confused then, and I just repeated, 'Trying to do?'" She paused and laughed at the memory. "That's when he just leant in and kissed me. I think I was too stunned to react."

Unbidden, a caustic comment burst from Snape's lips. "That seems to be a pattern for you."

Hermione snapped a reproachful glance at him, and he felt his cheeks warm with embarrassment. Ashamed at his venomous attack, he gazed at her in apology, caressing her arm. "That was uncalled for. Forgive me, please."

Hermione nodded, lamely adding, "Anyway, he was the first, and you already know of the others. There haven't been many."

Still sorry that he had hurt her, Snape hugged her tight and kissed her temple. "A fact I hope you won't regret." Placing one fingertip under her chin, he tilted her face up and kissed her gently, once again apologizing through the touch of his lips on hers.

Opening her eyes again, Hermione whispered, "Tell me about your first kiss. What were things like for you as a teenager?"

Snape grimaced. "My adolescence was nothing to write home about. Even my first kiss wasn't driven by someone liking me, like yours was."

Hermione caressed his cheek. "What do you mean?"

He sighed. "I was in second year..."

"My, you started early, didn't you?"

Snape shot her a quelling glare. "As I was saying... I was in second year, and the Slytherin girls were having a game of truth or dare in the common room. One of the second year girls had taken a dare, and she was told to kiss me. So, there I was, barely twelve years old, and already a target of ridicule." His lips twisted bitterly and Hermione kissed his throat, cooing in sympathy. Suddenly, he seemed to wilt, and his voice was weary as he continued, "I will say that at least she was nice about it. And she didn't abuse me later either. Good ol' Gwen was nice enough for a Slytherin."

"Gwen? Was that short for something?"

"Gwendolyn Wright. She was always pretty soft spoken. But, she had ambition in spades. Last I heard, she had moved to the continent and had begun her own business. Can't rightly remember what it was, but she was said to be successful."

There was a long moment of pensive silence, broken by Snape squeezing her leg and saying, "It's nearly time for rehearsal. Come." He patted her legs, urging her to stand, and she struggled from her comfortable position in his lap. Smoothing her robes and hair, she waited for Snape to do the same. Nodding at her, he slipped past her to grab the Phantom mask from the table by the door and briskly strode back to her spot by the chair. Extending his hand to her, he smiled wistfully. "Ready?"

Hermione nodded, slipping her hand into his and stepping closer. Snape released her hand so he could tuck it through the crook of his elbow, resting his other hand on it. At his murmured, "Now," he Disapparated them up to the Hall.

Hermione blinked in surprise when they arrived, as they were standing on the stage. Straightening with dignity, Snape released her hand, and she primly slid it from his arm, both watching the few others wend their way down to the stage.

Hermione could see the envy plainly in Ginny's eyes as she gazed up at them. Smiling faintly at her friend, Hermione shrugged. Dumbledore joined everyone onstage, and the group quieted, turning attentively to him.

"We have only two scenes to block this evening. First, we have the scene after the Masquerade between Raoul and Madame Giry, and then we have the next Notes scene with everyone here." He looked at Snape. "Severus, you aren't onstage for either of these scenes, so I suggest you find a comfortable spot from which to speak your lines." Snape nodded gravely, turning slightly to gaze about the theatre before Disapparating. Dumbledore waved his hands to shoo everyone but Harry and McGonagall from the stage. "Very well, places please. Remember, this section is not available on the music boxes, so we'll have to rely on the scripts alone." At that, he retreated from the stage, gesturing for them to begin.

Hermione stood in the wing with Ginny, edging away from Ron and Neville. Ginny whispered, "So, how are things with you two?"

Hermione smiled. "Fine. We've been enjoying a chance to get to know each other better."

Ginny's eyes lit up and she grinned ferally. "Carnally?"

Hermione huffed and shoved the other girl in reprimand. "Ginny! Honestly!"

Ginny giggled, sputtering, "I'm sorry! I was kidding, really!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Anyway, things seem really good right now. I'm just hoping they'll stay that way." At Ginny's vehement nod, Hermione chuckled. They turned their attention back to the stage, where Dumbledore was instructing Harry and McGonagall where to stand and move for their scene. When he was done, they quickly wrote the notes in their scripts.

Dumbledore called for the next scene to start, and Ron and Neville strode out onto the stage. Dumbledore shifted the sets back to the managers' office, and they began. Draco and Pansy burst in from the opposite wing at their lines, and Hermione and Ginny scrambled to cross behind the sets to the other side of the stage so they could enter from the same side as everyone else.

Harry glanced around impatiently, looking for Hermione. When they arrived, he beckoned to her. "Hurry up, it's almost our cue!" Hermione bustled forward, and Harry grabbed her hand, pulling it through his arm and draping it inside his elbow, much like Snape had done to Apparate upstairs. Hermione pulled her shrunken script from her pocket and held it in the hand on Harry's elbow. She whispered the spell to enlarge it again, and tucked her wand back in her pocket as she and Harry entered on their cue.

Moments later, after Hermione and Pansy spouted venom at each other in their roles, McGonagall and Ginny entered. Finally, everyone but Snape was spread out across the stage, and Dumbledore paused long enough to make some adjustments and allow them all to write down their blocking before letting McGonagall start reading her note.

Snape once again was ensconced in Box Five, watching the rehearsal. When McGonagall began reading the note, he cast Sonorus, leaning back languidly as he recited his lines. When he was done, he ended the spell, eyes on Hermione as she acted, showing her fear and worry.

Harry showed his excitement as he outlined his plan, and Ron and Neville reacted accordingly. Since they were practicing without the music, they were a little ragged on the timing of their lines. When they all got to the next interweaving of parts, Dumbledore paused them and had them go slowly, just to be sure they were coming in at the right places. During the build up, Dumbledore instructed Ginny to cross to Hermione, expressing mute concern at her increasing distress. Then, when Hermione burst forth with, "If you don't stop, I'll go mad!" Ginny backed away, returning to McGonagall as Hermione turned to Harry for her lines.

At the end of the scene, Dumbledore urged Harry to move downstage and face front, addressing the Phantom by shouting to the empty air above the audience. When they were done, everyone marked their scripts, and Dumbledore returned to the beginning of the previous scene.

"Now, let's see if you can go smoothly through all of that. Ready? Action!"

They ran through the scenes a second time, at normal speed, and Dumbledore beamed at them. "Well done! All right then, let's try it with the music where available, and with everyone singing." There was a ripple of concern, and he looked at the group in surprise. "What's wrong?"

Ron rubbed the back of his neck and said, "The spell, sir?"

"Oh! Of course. I do apologize. Here you go." He cast the spell on those who wanted it and said, "Places!"

They ran through the scenes a third time quite successfully. From his vantage point, Snape proudly thought that the other schools couldn't possibly be better than Hogwarts. When Dumbledore gathered everyone onstage for notes, Snape Apparated back down to join them. Ron, Neville, and Harry still started at his abrupt appearance, but the rest of the group seemed used to it by now.

"Good work, everyone. We'll be continuing from here next week. Of course, I'll post it on the notice board, but we'll be doing the rehearsal scene through the graveyard scene next time. So, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom, you may have a night off, as you shan't be needed for those scenes." He smiled and nodded at them, and they grinned. "Keep practicing, and good night!"

The group began to disperse, and Ron said, "Oi, the graveyard scene, isn't that the one where the Phantom shoots fire at Raoul?"

Neville glanced anxiously between Harry as they strode up the aisle and Snape's tall figure still on the stage, hissing, "It is."

Both of them turned wide eyes on Harry. Continuing up the aisle, Ron gave a low whistle. "I wouldn't want to be you, mate."

Harry grimaced and shrugged. Unwilling to show his apprehension, he simply said, "Come on! Dumbledore won't let Snape do anything to me right in front of him..."

They all jumped as a silky voice behind them retorted, "Wouldn't it be a shame if there were to be an accident?"

Everyone stopped dead in their tracks, whirling to face their smirking Potions Master. Hermione's eyes nearly bugged out of her head in her reproachful glare, and even Ginny looked surprised. Harry scowled darkly, and Ron and Neville gaped, owl-eyed, at Snape. Neville's gaze flicked from Snape's position right by them to where he had previously been on the stage a mere moment before. Snape noticed it and cocked an eyebrow at him.

His tone sardonic, he said, "Well done, Longbottom. Yes, I did Apparate here. So convenient..."

Hostility pouring off him, Harry growled, "I suppose then, sir, that we'll all have to be especially careful and avoid accidents."

Snape's eye narrowed dangerously, but he saw the warning anger blazing in Hermione's eyes, and he curled his lip in a sneer. "Indeed." Then, straightening rigidly and glaring down his nose at them, he swept them with one last baleful look before Disapparating.

Hermione and Ginny exchanged a significant look, and Harry hissed, "Ruddy git..." Lower jaw shoved forward, he spun and marched up the aisle, shoving the doors open and exploding into the corridor. The other Gryffindors looked at each other warily, following quickly.

Harry was muttering under his breath as he charged up the stairs. Jogging to keep up, Ginny and Hermione wracked their brains to figure out how to soothe Harry's temper. At Harry's snarl of the password, the Fat Lady huffed in reproach as she opened the portrait. When they had all scrambled inside, Ginny desperately ventured, "Harry..."

He whirled on her angrily, cutting her off, hands thrown out to the sides. "What? What, Ginny? 'Give the man a chance,' 'He was civil to me,' 'Pretend you have manners.' You heard him! He's no different! Not to me..." He trailed off bitterly, his voice fading away.

"I'm sure it was a joke..."

Harry cut her such a scathing glance that she flushed and stopped. His voice a deadly whisper, he said, "If that's his idea of a joke, or yours for that matter, neither of you are very funny."

The common room was silent for a long moment. Hermione wanted so much to be able to explain things, to promise that Snape wouldn't hurt Harry, but she couldn't. Still, she had to do something...

"Harry..." He looked at her sharply, as did the rest of them.

"What?"

Worrying her hands, Hermione faltered, "I-I'll talk to him. I'm sure it was just a barb to get under your skin."

Harry's brows rose in scepticism. "You'll talk to him? Why would that make any difference?"

Hermione looked at the floor. "Well, we have been working together quite a bit, and he's been professional with me. I do have a chance to speak to him before rehearsals, so I can try to talk to him. You know how he is; I agree with Ginny. I'm sure it was just a joke." She trailed off lamely.

Everyone stared at her. She swallowed nervously. Harry's expression was one of incredulity. Finally, he snorted and spat, "Right. Whatever. I'll believe it when I see it." He shot another sulky look at Ginny, who was still morosely sagging near the portrait. "I'm going to bed." He whipped around and sprinted up the stairs to the dormitory.

When he was gone, there was a sound like air escaping from a balloon as everyone exhaled at once, releasing their tension. Exchanging bewildered looks, Ron and Neville sank into squashy chairs. A beat later, Ginny flopped onto a sofa, lying back and throwing her arm over her eyes. Hermione stood awkwardly, unsure what to say.

Neville turned anxious eyes on Hermione. "Do you really think you can talk to him?"

Hermione attempted a wan smile and nodded. "I'll be sure to before our next rehearsal."

Ron and Neville exchanged looks again and Ron said, "Yeah, but do you really think it'll do any good? Wouldn't it be a bad idea to antagonize Snape? He might take it out on Harry even more."

Before Hermione could answer, Ginny spoke up. "I know she'll do it. It'll all be fine. I have confidence in her." At that, she flung her arm away and sat up, eyes pink but expression determined. "Really. Professor Snape has been acting differently since we began this play, and I really think he's changing. He's been fine with me, even when I was in detention. And he's been great with Hermione, working on all this play stuff. If anyone can get through to him at this point, it's her. You'll see." She offered a supportive smile to Hermione, sniffling.

Hermione inclined her head in thanks and said, "I'll do my best. Harry'll calm down, and I'll talk to Professor Snape before rehearsal next week. Let's not worry about it anymore now. I don't know about you, but I'm ready for bed." She gazed expectantly at them, and they nodded.

Heaving to his feet, Ron said, "Right, then. See you in the morning. G'night." On his way to the stairs, he passed Ginny and gave her a quick hug, patting her back in an awkwardly comforting way.

She smiled and murmured, "Night, Ron." Then, she turned to the others and said, "Night, Neville. Hermione." With a little wave, she disappeared into the doorway to the girls' dormitory as Ron ascended the stairs.

Neville hesitated, glancing at Hermione. It was obvious that he wanted to say something. Gently, Hermione asked, "What is it, Neville?"

He stared at his hands, mouth opening and closing, before he finally forced out, "Aren't you scared to keep going off with Snape? I mean, you have to go to his office before every rehearsal, and now he can just drag you along Apparating." He looked up at her, worried. "Is he really being nice to you? Because, if he's not, we could go to Professor McGonagall. Or to Dumbledore..." His eyes were round, his tone earnest.

Hermione smiled and patted his arm. "Neville, I'm fine. Honestly. Professor Snape and I have quite a... satisfactory working relationship. He treats me like an adult and I give him the same respect. There's no reason to fear him. You don't even have him in class any longer. Think about it: you thought the worst about the chocolate mousse at Christmas, and it was divine! He's even been treating Ginny like a human being in detention."

She chuckled at his sceptical expression. "The war is over. Surely you know how difficult it was for him, keeping up facades on both sides, treading a thin line of deceit. How could anyone go through that for years and not let it affect his persona? Finally, it's all over, and Professor Snape can start living a normal life. He's changing. Surely you've noticed too. It won't all happen at once, but it is happening. I really think that I can talk to him. It'll be okay. Just... give him a chance. Like Ginny said. Okay?"

Neville searched her face for any sign that she wasn't sincere, that she was saying those things out of a feeling of coercion. But, her eyes betrayed nothing untoward and he relaxed a trifle. Taking a deep breath and exhaling forcefully, he tried to shake off his almost phobic fear of the Potions Master.

"Okay. I'll try. I won't make any promises, though. Somehow, I don't think my boggart would be any different now than it was in third year..." He cast a wry lopsided smile at her and she chuckled.

Beaming at him, Hermione said, "That's all I ask. Really, Neville, you're a man now. There's no reason to be afraid of Professor Snape. You fought bravely in a war against evil. Just remember that, eh?" She darted forward and hugged him, kissing him on the cheek as she pulled away. He blinked, and his ears immediately began to turn pink. Smiling fondly at him, she spun and strode off to her room. "Good night!"

When she was gone, Neville shook himself, straightening and smoothing his clothes. He gazed around the empty common room and murmured, "That's right. I'm a man. And I am brave." He snorted to himself and added, "Hey, if I can change so much, maybe Hermione's right. Maybe Snape is changing." He turned and headed toward the stairs to the dormitory. Shaking his head and climbing the stairs, he muttered, "All the same, I'm still glad I'm not in Harry's place..."