38- Post-Holiday Blues and a Hanging

Standard Disclaimer goes here.

Obviously, this has been AU from the start, but after the shocking events in HBP, it's even MORE so. So, now I'm including that in the warnings.

Author's Note: I apologize profusely to everyone who has been waiting for over a month now for this chapter update. As was related on my livejournal (www.livejournal.com/users/pern_dragon) work went crazy for a long while, and it has finally gotten back to normal. Add in the reading of HBP twice, and those are my reasons for having such a long hiatus. *hangs head in shame and looks mournfully up at impatient readers, pleading for forgiveness.* As always, much love and thanks go out to all you wonderful folk who give me so much support over this fic, and hugs and chocolate to the inestimable Lotm, who rocks my world as a beta, and to SnivellusSnape, Laela, yutamiyu, and Horserider! And, last but certainly not least, I have to direct you all to Melanie's fanart for this fic, which can be found at: http://www.deviantart.com/view/21561691/ . Go check it out! I fangirled Melanie big time... LOL!! Anyway, on with the show...

Chapter 38- Post-Holiday Blues and a Hanging

Snape woke to the persistent tingle of his alarm clock. He had it charmed to rouse him that way first, before emitting any sounds. Usually, the sensation was enough to wake him, and he could respond to the summons before the actual alarm began. Considering how short his sleep was, he felt surprisingly rested when he waved his wand at the clock to stop its emanations.

Hermione was still asleep, half-sprawled over him. Snape smiled in the darkness, caressing her arm. He could tell that his left arm would be stiff from where it had been trapped under her head, but he fondly thought that the minimal discomfort was worth waking up with her in his embrace. Sighing regretfully, he gripped Hermione's arm and gently shook it. Whispering, he said, "Hermione, love, it's time to wake up."

Hermione grumbled incoherently and stirred, snuggling closer to him. Snape stifled a chuckle and prodded her insistently. "Hermione. Wake up."

Hermione seemed to growl and tossed petulantly, muttering, "Tired... Bit longer..."

Snape's lips thinned. As much as he would love to keep her in his bed, she had to get back to her room before anyone discovered that she was missing. Deepening his tone to an approximation of his classroom demeanour, he crisply retorted, "Get up this instant, young lady, or I shall be forced to resort to drastic measures."

Her only response was a sleepily irritated huff, followed by her shifting onto her back, rolling her head away from him along his bicep.

Sighing to himself in exasperation, he murmured, "You've left me no choice." With that, he whipped the covers off them, throwing them past the foot of the bed. At Hermione's confused protest, he yanked his arm from under her head, hearing her squawk of indignation as her head dropped to the mattress. As he moved, the bed shook, and he barked, "Up! Up! Get up! Now!"

He grabbed his wand and launched himself up onto his knees, straddling hers. A quick flick of his wand and a rumbled "Lumos" bathed the room in light, causing Hermione to shriek in frustration and fling her arm up over her eyes, blocking out the painful brilliance.

"Severus! What are you doing? That's too bright! Get off me!" She heard his sharp inhalation and felt his movements still. Wondering at his sudden silence, she peered past her arm, struggling to see. Blinking furiously in the light, she gazed up at Snape, her vision clearing until she could see his stunned expression.

He was staring at her, his lips parted in incredulity. Both arms hung limply at his sides, and his eyes were wide as he looked at her, unblinking. But, she noticed, he wasn't looking at her face. Bewildered, she glanced down to see what had stunned him so completely.

Embarrassed heat flooded her cheeks as she realized that she was nearly naked. When she had rolled away from him, the shirt she was wearing...which had never been rebuttoned...had fallen open on both sides. Her thong was a bare scrap of decorative lace, and with all that had transpired, it had pulled and twisted, revealing tantalizing glimpses of dark curls.

She felt a wave of mortification wash over her, immediately followed by a tingle of excitement. Her nipples had stiffened in the cool dungeon air and were proudly standing at attention. She glanced back up at Snape, understanding his dazed expression. She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed convulsively, blinking rapidly as he attempted to regain his composure.

He tore his gaze away from her breasts, which were rising and falling quickly as Hermione panted in reaction. A faint pink stained his cheeks as he shifted his position, straddling her knees. He tried to resist looking at her again, but failed. His eyes darting back to the vision before him, he hungrily drank in the smooth gleam of her skin, the soft curves of her breasts, and the darker peaks of her hard nipples. His mouth watered with his desire to suckle them again. The thought sent a lance of heat straight through his body, ending in his cock, which he suddenly realized had sprung to life and was bobbing within his trousers.

Hermione glanced down, her eyes widening at the sight of his tented trousers. Memories of scant hours prior cascaded over her, and she shivered, her eyelids fluttering closed. When she opened them again, she looked up to see Snape gazing at her, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his shallow breaths.

They locked eyes for a long moment, reading their unquenchable desire for each other. Finally, Snape cleared his throat and rasped lamely, "It's time to get up."

Hermione nodded solemnly. Then, she flicked a glance at his erection and her lips quivered with a suppressed smirk. Her voice a husky drawl, she lilted, "I see that."

Snape's brows shot up in astonishment at her cheek, and he ducked his head, chagrined at his obviously base reaction. Carefully, he backed away from her, averting his eyes and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Forgive me for staring like that. I just couldn't help it. It's not often a man like me wakes up with a beautiful young woman half-dressed in his bed."

Hermione had squirmed to a sitting position, fumbling to wrap his shirt closed, crossing her arms tightly under her breasts. When he spoke, she crept closer to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "It's all right. It's not like we weren't all over each other last night...er, this morning." She shrugged ruefully at her correction.

Snape tossed his head. Pressing herself against him from behind, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed, planting a light kiss on his trapezius. Snape closed his eyes and gripped her arms, leaning back into her embrace.

Hermione trailed a line of kisses along his neck and over his jaw, crooning as he turned his head to meet her lips with his. Mindful of his stubble, he gently kissed her, sliding one hand into her hair, pulling her around to settle across his lap. As she slid, the shirt opened again, but neither seemed to care as they were lost in a kiss that quickly turned passionate. Hermione pressed her bared breasts against his chest, dragging her nails along his back.

Snape groaned, gripping her tightly and standing, depositing her on her feet in front of him. He cupped her face in his hands, kissing her, travelling all over her face and down her throat. Hermione's head canted back, and she settled her hands on his shoulders, sighing blissfully as his fingertips lightly brushed along her throat and over her collarbone, brashly pushing the shirt open. He dropped to his knees and reverently caressed her breasts, gazing at her as if she were the most precious treasure on Earth.

Hermione snaked her hands into his hair, grazing her nails over his scalp. When she looked down at him from under hooded lids, she was struck by the sheer power of his love and desire for her. It hit her like a gale force wind, buffeting her in his grasp. Pupils dilating, she locked burning eyes with him and whispered, "I love you."

Snape buried his face in the hollow between her breasts, wrapping her in a painfully tight bear hug. His fervent declaration was muffled against her skin, but she knew he had said the same thing. They remained motionless for a long moment. Then, Snape pulled back and glanced up at her resignedly. "You have to go."

Hermione nodded sadly, but made no move. Snape knew he would have to be the one to force the issue, to be the stronger one. Grimacing, he pulled away even more, but darted back to drop a light kiss on each nipple before he stood.

Hermione gasped at the sensation and reeled. Snape was suddenly towering over her, his hair cloaking his face again. His voice low, he said, "Get dressed. Every minute we waste increases our risk."

He stepped sharply away from her, striding to his wardrobe and grabbing a fresh set of clothes. He glanced at her and nodded before disappearing into the bathroom, leaving her to change.

Hermione crossed to the chair where her clothing lay. Picking up her stockings, she rolled them tightly into a ball, wrapping her suspender belt around them. With a tender smile, she tucked the choker securely inside the wad of cloth. Slowly, she shrugged out of Snape's shirt, eyeing it wistfully as she dropped it onto the chair. Slipping back into her dress, she stepped into her shoes. Then, she cast a furtive glance back at the door to the bathroom. Grabbing her wand, she hurriedly shrank the white shirt and hid it within the bundle of her stockings. Half-heartedly patting at her hopelessly tangled hair, she heaved a deep sigh and yawned, shuffling back to the bed, where she dropped morosely onto the edge.

A few moments later, Snape reappeared, fully dressed, carrying her mousse and the Cloak. He gravely handed them to her, remaining standing, obviously waiting for her to get up and don the Cloak for departure. She peered up at him sulkily and he cocked an eyebrow at her. Sighing gustily, Hermione stood and flung the Cloak around her. Once again shrinking the mousse, she palmed it, burying it under the wad of her stockings. She glanced up at Snape, her head the only part of her still visible, floating in midair.

"I shall escort you to your Tower. The last thing we need is for Filch or Mrs. Norris to catch you. He wouldn't question me prowling about the halls..."

Hermione nodded and tugged the hood up, disappearing from sight completely. Snape felt her Cloak-covered hand scrabbling for his and gripped it. Inclining his head, he led her through the door to his sitting room and out of his quarters into the deserted dungeon corridor. In silence, they trekked up staircase after staircase, warily on the lookout for signs of anyone else.

Eventually, they came to the corridor to Gryffindor Tower, and Snape felt Hermione tug on his arm to pause. Pretending to have heard something in the room they had just passed, he doubled back and entered it, peering out into the corridor again before speaking.

Barely whispering, he queried, "What is it?"

Hermione whispered back, "I'm afraid to say the password to the Fat Lady. I don't want her to be able to tell anyone that I came back to the Tower at this time of the morning."

Snape frowned and pursed his lips in thought. "Can't you use the bypass to your room?"

"You know about that?" Hermione asked in surprise.

Snape snorted and muttered, "All Heads of Houses know of the Head Boy's and Girl's bypass passageways. We can all use them if necessary. I know you were instructed to keep it a secret..."

Hermione huffed and replied, "I have! Even Harry and Ron don't know where it is. The thing is, Professor Dumbledore told us that he would know every time we used them! As long as we weren't using them outside of curfew, it wouldn't matter, and we weren't to abuse the privilege... But now, he'd certainly find out if I used it, and I'd get in trouble for sure. I suppose I could wait outside the portrait hole until someone came out and then go through..."

Snape interrupted, "No. If you're in the corridor, Filch or Mrs. Norris might find you. There's nothing for it. I shall simply have to enter the common room. You can enter behind me."

"But what will the Fat Lady say?"

Snape drew himself up and scowled forbiddingly. "Am I or am I not a professor at this school? Is it or is it not my responsibility to look after students who are here over holiday?"

Hermione, though invisible, refrained from rolling her eyes at his attitude. Quickly, she muttered, "Okay, I get it. As long as that works on paintings as well as students..."

Snape smirked and gave a mock bow. "There are very few on which it doesn't work, my dear."

Hermione made a noise of exasperation, but she cupped his elbow to indicate they should continue. Snape tossed his head smugly and led the way again down the corridor.

When they arrived at the portrait, Snape cleared his throat to wake the dozing Fat Lady. She started and shook her head sleepily, blinking at him.

"Professor? What are you doing here?"

Snape crossed his arms and sneered down his nose at the Fat Lady. Before he even spoke, she blanched under his regard. "I am patrolling for rule-breaking students. Open up at once."

Grimacing in confusion, the Fat Lady ventured, "But... you're not a Gryffindor..."

Snape snorted and rolled his eyes. Voice dripping with disdain, he spat, "For which I am eternally grateful. Are you going to open up or not? I daresay that the precious little Gryffindors are the ones most likely to break rules, if I am to use that Potter brat as an example..." His demeanour grew more and more disapproving and agitated, and the Fat Lady cringed, hastening to open the portrait.

"All right! All right. Go on, then..." She swung forward, and Snape felt Hermione brush past him, behind the portrait. He peered into the common room before folding his long legs to clamber through the hole. Once through, he felt Hermione scramble after him, and he kept his hand on the portrait, to stop it from swinging shut.

The common room was deserted, and Hermione dared to look up from within the Cloak, her face becoming visible for a fleeting moment, flashing a grateful smile and a mouthed "I love you" to Snape before vanishing again. He nodded sharply and scanned the room again, straining his ears to hear her footsteps as she headed to her room. Satisfied that she was safely gone, he climbed back out of the portrait hole, scowling at the Fat Lady as she swung shut.

"I trust there were no problems, Professor?"

Snape's lip curled nastily. He offered a non-committal, "Hmph," before spinning on his heel and stalking away. He pretended not to hear the Fat Lady's relieved sigh, sending silent thanks to the gods that they had not been found out.

Fortunately, he made his way back to the dungeons without encountering anyone else. Finally relaxing once he had re-entered his quarters, he headed back to his bedroom, intent on sleeping a bit more before facing the rest of the day. When he stepped through the door, he paused, overwhelmed with Hermione's lingering presence. His sheets were rumpled, the covers still in a pile on the floor at the foot of the bed, and he could still detect her faint scent. A pang of loneliness stole over him as he undressed again. Dropping naked onto his bed, he gazed at the wrinkled sheets, noting the spots where her juices had left stains. A surge of lust made his cock twitch, and he snorted faintly.

Sliding under the restored covers and inhaling deeply, he doused the lights, comforted by the scent clinging to his bed. His thoughts focused on the wonderful moments with Hermione as he fell asleep.

Hermione hurried to her room, holding her breath as she opened her door, hoping that she wouldn't find a sleeping couple sprawled on her bed. When she poked her head through, she saw nobody but Crookshanks. Exhaling thankfully, she shut her door, taking in the pristine condition of her room. Well, at least Ginny was conscientious about leaving it clean...

She flung the Cloak onto her chair, quickly shimmying out of her dress and shoes. Unwrapping her stockings, she tossed them to the floor and reverently put the choker away in her bureau. Crookshanks purred at her sleepily. Scrubbing his ears with one hand, she restored her mousse and Snape's shirt to normal size. After storing the mousse in her closet, she picked up the shirt, holding it to her face and breathing deeply. Smiling, she shrugged into it again, wrapping it around her like Snape's embrace.

After a quick trip to the loo, where she gratefully disposed of the uncomfortable thong, she snuggled into bed, feeling dreadfully tired after so much excitement and lack of sleep. As she lay there, flashes of the previous night crowding her mind, Crookshanks jumped up to curl up beside her. She rolled over to lie close to him, idly petting his back as she drifted off to sleep.

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

Hermione woke to a persistent knocking on her door. Grumpily, she croaked, "Who is it?"

A muffled voice called out, "It's Ginny! Aren't you coming to breakfast?"

Hermione groaned. "Is Harry with you?"

"No. It's just me. Harry's with Ron, listening to him go on about Susan. Why?"

Hermione forced herself to get up, wrapping Snape's shirt tightly around herself. Staggering to the door, she crossed her arms under her breasts and opened the door a crack. Ginny's expression was curious as she peered in at Hermione's dishevelled state.

Hermione quickly scanned the corridor before letting Ginny in. Shuffling back to her bed, she burrowed back under the covers, eyeing Ginny blearily.

"Are you okay?" Ginny's brow creased in concern.

A slow smile stole across Hermione's face in spite of her exhaustion. At that, Ginny's eyes widened, and an astonished gasp escaped her.

In a breathless whisper, Ginny queried, "What happened?"

Hermione pinned her with a warning gaze before answering, "I just got back here... oh... less than three hours ago."

Ginny's mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. Blinking rapidly, she closed her mouth, struggling to speak.

"I don't think I'm ready to come to breakfast just yet. I'm going to get some more sleep first. I haven't had much..."

Ginny finally recovered herself and narrowed her eyes at Hermione, who was watching her with a faint, amused smirk. Tilting her head meaningfully, Ginny said, "And why haven't you had much sleep? Where were you until a few hours ago?"

Hermione's smirk widened into a beatific grin. Nodding slowly to confirm Ginny's suspicions, she simply said, "You know. You're a bright girl."

Ginny instantly shot up from the chair where she had been sitting and crossed to join Hermione on the bed. Her face was alight with eager curiosity and a conspiratorial gleam as she hissed, "I can't believe you! And you nag me about getting caught!"

Hermione's chin lifted mutinously as she retorted, "I had the Cloak. And he escorted me back this morning."

Ginny sank back, trying to come to terms with this new Let's-Flout-The-Rules Hermione. Eyeing her intently, she noticed the shirt Hermione was wearing. Pointing a slack finger at it, she said, "That's his, isn't it?"

Hermione chewed her lip and flushed. "Yes."

Incredulous, Ginny said, "I can't believe he let you have it! What if someone saw it? Or if the house-elves found it?"

Hermione's eyes shifted guiltily as she confessed, "He doesn't know I have it. I nicked it when I was getting dressed. And I'll keep it hidden! I do the same thing with the photos!"

Ginny blinked again. "You stole his shirt?" A look of grudging, delighted admiration crossed her face. "You really are a rebel! I think I like it..."

Hermione grimaced at Ginny, making the other girl laugh. Hastily changing the subject, she asked, "So, how was last night? I appreciate you leaving the room in such good condition."

Ginny's face lit up. "It was spectacular! We had the best time ever. I can't thank you enough."

Hermione smiled uncomfortably and muttered, "Yes, you can. In fact, you have already. So, as glad as I am that everyone involved had a good time, I'd rather not hear the details, thanks."

Ginny nodded, smirking. "Fine. I get it. But, can I ask you about your gory details?"

Hermione fixed the redhead with an aggrieved glare and said frostily, "I can't stop you from asking, but don't expect answers."

Ginny stuck her tongue out at her friend before adding saucily, "All right then. So, did you two... you know?"

Hermione shook her head quickly. "No! I told you. He won't. We won't. Not until I'm out of school."

Ginny shrugged in resignation. "Oh well. I understand, of course, but I can't imagine being in your position and not being able to go forward, you know? It'd be torture! I doubt I'd have that kind of self-control."

Hermione nodded ruefully. "Well, he does. And it's a good thing, too. As for torture... Well, it is, in a way, but there are other things than just that, you know."

Ginny perked up and said, "You mean like oral?"

Hermione covered her face with her hands. "Ginny! Honestly!"

"What? What did I say?"

Groaning, Hermione peeked through her fingers. "No. Not that either. Just... other things. Being close. I'm not going to draw you a bloody picture, so forget it. Besides, I'm fair knackered, so go have breakfast and let me go back to sleep."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Fine! I'll go. But, what do you want me to tell the boys?"

Hermione frowned. "Just tell them I'm tired after the party, especially since I had to make myself scarce until after one a.m.!" She favoured Ginny with a meaningful glare, and the other girl had the grace to blush, even though she was grinning from ear to ear.

"Um, yeah. That'll shut Harry up, I'm sure. As for Ron, he's probably too interested in eating so he can go visit Susan to worry too much about your absence. Anyway, I'll see you later." With that, she stood and crossed to the door. Turning a positively wicked expression on Hermione, she murmured, "So... have pleasant dreams, eh?"

Hermione grabbed a pillow and flung it at the chuckling redhead as she ducked out the door, dodging the missile. It smacked against the wood with a muffled thunk. Summoning it back to her, Hermione settled into her bed again, still tired. After several minutes, she managed to sink back into a sleep that was riddled with erotic dreams involving a certain dark Potions professor.

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

Fortunately, Harry was so caught up in the afterglow of his night with Ginny that he didn't pay too much attention to Hermione when she finally joined the living later that day. Ginny had been right about Ron, and he was off spending time with Susan. Hermione spent Boxing Day lounging about the common room with the other Gryffindors, occasionally joining Seamus and Luna in their games of Exploding Snap after Luna showed up to dreamily take Seamus up on his offer.

That evening, when dinner appeared on the tables in the common room, Dobby, too, appeared, anxiously twisting his hands and gazing hopefully at Hermione.

"Miss! Dobby wanted to ask Miss if her Christmas plans went well..."

Hermione glanced around quickly, beckoning to Dobby to follow her to her room. Smiling at him, she murmured, "Everything was perfect, Dobby, thank you. I'm glad you came by. I have something for you." She gestured for him to precede her into her room, and he gazed at her raptly.

She crossed to her closet and emerged with a package, which she handed to Dobby. His huge eyes immediately began watering as he trembled in an ecstasy of gratitude.

"This is for you, Dobby. I found it when I was out shopping for the holidays, and I knew you'd like it. I couldn't resist. Please take it as a token of my thanks for all the help you've given me, and Harry, and Dumbledore, and...oh, all of us here!" She beamed kindly at the elf, who breathlessly unwrapped the package and pulled out a badge...very much like those that she had made for S.P.E.W....that blinked the message "I love Harry Potter!" in glowing primary colours.

In the wake of the Final Battle, the euphoria of victory led to an embarrassing upsurge of Harry Potter mania, with fan clubs popping up amongst teenage girls...and adults, disturbingly enough...all over Europe. Harry had been mightily mortified at the propensity of small crowds of girls for wearing Harry Potter memorabilia and squealing shrilly whenever they caught a glimpse of him in the aftermath of the war. The badge Hermione had given Dobby was just one example of the dross that Harry would flush hotly over, scowling. It was a relief for all involved that Dumbledore had put his foot down at the start of term about anyone behaving in such a fashion, and Harry's life had settled down to almost normal...well, as normal as life could be for one whom the public called The-Boy-Who-Lived-Twice.

Dobby sighed reverently and pinned the badge to the Weasley sweater Ron had given him. Thrusting his chest out proudly, he sniffed and beamed up at Hermione. "Miss... Dobby is honoured to have such a present. Dobby will wear it proudly! If there is ever anything I can do for Miss or her friends, just say the word, and Dobby will do anything to help!"

Hermione cleared her throat at Dobby's excess of emotion, but patted his shoulder kindly. "I'll remember, Dobby, thank you." Then, with a stifled smirk of wicked amusement, she added, "Oh, and no matter what Harry might say to you when he sees your present, don't let him tell you to get rid of it. You deserve it."

Dobby gasped in horror. "Of course not, Miss! Thank you, thank you!" Bowing away from her, he cast her an elated grin before disappearing with a pop. Hermione giggled as she made her way back to the common room.

She was lazily buttering a roll when Colin plopped down near her. He reached for a plate and offered her a cheerful, "Evening, Hermione."

"Hello, Colin. Been enjoying the holiday?"

Colin flashed her a smile before flushing. "Oh, yes! I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable with that whole mistletoe thing yesterday, though."

Hermione inclined her head and waved her roll airily. "Don't worry about it. It was all just silliness anyway. I doubt anyone will remember all that rot when we get back to work." Silently, she added, I hope Severus will forget about it...

Colin blinked and furrowed his brow. "That's right. I forgot. When is the next rehearsal?"

"Tomorrow. We're to block the 'Il Muto' scene through Buquet's hanging."

Colin shuddered and grimaced. "I tell you, I wouldn't want to be Terry... or Harry! Can you imagine being hanged?"

Hermione snorted and said, "Honestly, it's not like he's really going to be hanged. Surely you realize that none of us are at risk, not with Dumbledore around."

Colin leant toward Hermione earnestly. "Maybe, but just think for a second. Snape certainly doesn't like any of us, and he's supposed to be the one hanging Harry! Wouldn't you be a little worried if you were in his place?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed with anger and Colin backed away hastily, confused by her reaction. Her voice was icy as she spoke. "You're always so quick to think the worst of Professor Snape. All of you! It's disgusting. Just like with the mousse. You tasted it! It was wonderful! And yet you persist with your unfounded suspicions..."

At that moment, Ginny and Harry walked over and took a seat at the table, serving themselves from the platters, cheerfully offering, "What's up?" Harry took in Colin's frightened, white face and Hermione's scathing, angry expression and whistled, querying, "Oi, Colin, what'd you do to set Hermione off this time?" He shot a lopsided smirk at the younger boy. Ginny eyed them all keenly.

Hermione glared silently at Colin, fuming. After a beat, he swallowed nervously and stammered, "I was just talking about how much I wouldn't want to be Terry or you, since you both get hanged... especially you, since Snape's the one to do it, and she just got mad..."

Harry's brows rose in thoughtful contemplation of Colin's point. "Huh. Now that you mention it, it really is kind of a touchy matter, isn't it? I know Dumbledore is there and all, but I can't say that I really welcome the idea of Snape using me as a target."

Hermione drew herself up to launch into a harangue, but she was interrupted by Ginny smacking Harry's arm and starting her own tirade. Both boys regarded the redhead in astonishment as she raged at them.

"Harry James Potter! I can't believe you! Hermione's right. You may not like the man, but for gods' sakes, how can you think he would do anything to you after all he's done to protect and help you?" She huffed in disgust and favoured them with a clearly aggrieved expression. "Ever since this whole production began, Snape has given his best efforts to it, and you still prate on about how untrustworthy he is. Give over already! He may not be my favourite person, and he may still act like a git, but have a little respect, please! Really, after thinking about what the man has to put up with, I can't say I blame him overmuch for being in such a bad mood..."

Hermione was shocked speechless by Ginny's unexpected defence of Snape. Apparently, the boys were too, as they simply stared at her like she had grown a second head. She glared at them before rolling her eyes.

Harry tilted his head and muttered wonderingly, "Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?" Colin stifled a nervous giggle and even Hermione coughed as she tried to suppress a bark of laughter.

Ginny narrowed her eyes at Harry and sneered, "Oh, ha ha. Really funny. Come on, Harry, don't be a prat."

Harry blinked at her before cautiously turning his attention to his dinner. As he pushed the food around on his plate, he cast a glance at Colin and said, "Right. Snape is a good ol' chap. Let's keep that in mind, shall we, Colin?"

Colin nodded faintly. "Sure thing, Harry. Um, anyway, I'll see you lot tomorrow at rehearsal. Bye, Hermione, Ginny, Harry." He stood hastily and scuttled off, darting wary glances over his shoulder as he went.

Hermione stared at Ginny while Harry avoided their eyes, concentrating solely on his meal. Ginny stared back, giving Hermione a half-self-conscious look and a defiant shrug. Hermione's lips curved in a faint appreciative smile and she shook her head slightly. At that, Ginny's lips twitched. Hermione shot a furtive glance around the room before mouthing "Thank you" to Ginny. Ginny cut her eyes to Harry before smirking rather sheepishly and mouthing back "Sure."

Clearing her throat, Hermione stood, brushing crumbs off her clothes. "Well, I've got some reading to do, so I'll see you tomorrow. Good night!" She snorted at Harry's half-hearted finger ripple. Ginny nodded at Hermione, having just taken a large bite of her dinner.

Well, I'm not going to stick around and give Harry the chance to ponder the oddity of that whole scene. I'm sure Ginny will be able to distract him from thinking about it. She briskly secluded herself in her room, shrouding herself in Snape's shirt before snuggling on her bed with a thick book on the theory of merging different branches of magic. As the hour grew late, she laid the book aside, peeked in her bureau at the photo of her and Snape, blew a kiss in the direction of the dungeons, and curled up under her covers, eagerly anticipating seeing Snape the next day at rehearsal. After so much concentrated time together, even one day apart seemed like forever.

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

The evening of Saturday, December 27th found the whole cast trooping down to the Great Hall for rehearsal. Spirits were high, and the raucous voices of the students echoed through the corridors as they converged on the entrance. After only a few short moments, the doors opened, and the group bustled in, eager to continue with the production.

Dumbledore was onstage, beaming impartially at everyone. "Welcome back to work! I hope you have all enjoyed your holiday so far. But, we must forge ahead in our duties. Come, everyone onstage. Except for Professor Snape." He inclined his head at the man who had just glided smoothly down the aisle. As one, heads turned to look at him, many people wondering if he had any other surprises in store for them like at the cast party.

Hermione glanced around and saw that everyone was looking at him, so she could too, without raising suspicion. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Colin and Harry exchanging meaningful glances. She bit back a smile.

Nodding politely to the headmaster, Snape queried, "Where would you like me to be, sir?"

Dumbledore pursed his lips as he gazed about. "Hmmm. Wherever you feel most comfortable. I wouldn't go into the Boxes, though. Misters Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom will be there. Just... follow your instincts. You seem to do best that way." He beamed encouragingly at Snape, whose face was impassive as he swept a cold glare over the assembled students.

"As you say, Headmaster." With that, he spun sharply on his heel, his robes swirling satisfactorily around him, and stalked off into the shadows at the back of the house. Hermione felt a tingle race over her at the graceful flair of his exit.

Everyone's attention quickly returned to Dumbledore as he began giving them their places to begin the scene. Obediently scribbling notes in their scripts, everyone moved to their starting positions. Dumbledore waved his wand to Summon the canopied bed that was necessary as the set. When everyone was ready, he closed the front curtain and gestured for Harry, Ron, and Neville to begin their lines.

As soon as they took their seats in the Boxes, the curtain opened, with Pansy, Hermione, Ginny, Professor Trelawney, Susan, and Hannah already onstage. Susan, Hannah, and Professor Trelawney recited their lines before the curtains on the bed opened to reveal Pansy and Hermione. At that point, the two girls stared blankly at Dumbledore, an awkward tension between them.

"Is something the matter?" Dumbledore asked.

Pansy wrinkled her nose and said, "The script says I'm 'kissing Serafimo passionately.' She's a girl!" A catcall hoot met her declaration and a ripple of sniggers swept through the male half of the cast. Dumbledore and McGonagall raked the Hall with a chastising glare, unable to pinpoint which boy had started the reaction.

Dumbledore turned his attention back to Pansy. "Yes, well, I'm sure you two can work something out. It is acting, after all. We don't need to see realism, not in this kind of production."

The girls exchanged disgusted glances, but Hermione ground out, "Certainly, sir. We'll manage."

Pansy rolled her eyes and sulked, while Draco shot out onto the stage scowling in disdain. "It's not just that she's a girl, she's a Gryffindor! It wouldn't be so bad if she was a Slytherin..."

Before Dumbledore could reprimand Draco, a thundering voice of cold fury boomed from the darkness at the back of the house. "Mr. Malfoy, you will shut your filthy mouth this instant, or I will shut it for you!" All heads whipped around to see Snape charging down the aisle like an avenging Fury, black eyes snapping with anger. Draco froze, somehow managing to go even paler.

Surging up onto the stage, Snape paused to tower over the stunned boy, nostrils flaring in rage. His voice was a steely hiss as he continued, "How dare you presume to insult the House of your headmaster in such a fashion? Ten points from Slytherin for such blatant discourtesy!"

He paused, trying to regain some measure of composure. Eyes darting over the assembled cast, who were all staring at him, dumbfounded, he straightened stiffly and turned to Dumbledore. "My apologies, sir. It pains me that one of my own House would be so arrogantly uncouth as to voice such opinions in mixed company." He cut an icy glance at Draco again. In a dangerously low voice, he continued, "Perhaps a detention would be useful in teaching you how to behave, Mr. Malfoy..."

Dumbledore cut in, "Now, Severus, that won't be necessary. It wouldn't do to spoil the holiday. I'm sure Mr. Malfoy didn't mean anything by it. Did you?" He gazed bemusedly at the boy, who was starting to sweat under the combination of the lights and everyone's scrutiny.

"No, sir. Of course not. I forgot myself. I apologize." He glanced up at the old man warily.

A growl sounded from behind him. "Apologize to Miss Granger as well. The headmaster was not the only one you so rudely insulted."

Draco stiffened at Snape's command, turning to see Hermione staring at him, wide-eyed. Pansy was avoiding his gaze, staring fixedly at the fringe on the bed curtains. Grinding his teeth, he sucked in air and hoarsely uttered, "I apologize, Miss Granger, Headmaster." He quickly returned his attention to Dumbledore, unwilling to focus his apology on Hermione.

Hermione glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded slightly. Flushing uncomfortably, she stammered, "I accept your apology."

Dumbledore smiled and turned to Snape. "Very well then. That should be it. Please resume your position, Mr. Malfoy. Let's move on with the blocking, shall we?" He raised one eyebrow at Snape, who thinned his lips in acknowledgement. Casting one last baleful look at his charges, Snape stomped back up the aisle to once again hide in the shadows.

Hermione's mind was racing. Wow! He was so angry! Thank Merlin he played it off as being about Dumbledore. I can't believe he actually made Draco apologize to me! That was certainly shocking. I hope no one thinks too much about it. Damn! Looks like I may have to remind him about not drawing attention to ourselves! She sighed, and cut a surreptitious glance at Pansy. The girl was pouting, her arms crossed under her breasts. Why do I have to be the one to kiss everyone in this damn play? Suddenly, a thought struck her. That's it!

Hermione bounced up and called, "Sir?"

Dumbledore looked up from his script and said, "Yes, Miss Granger?"

Hermione glanced back at Pansy, who was glaring at her, and said, "I have an idea how to work this out. May Pansy and I go discuss it for a moment?"

Pansy blinked, narrowing her eyes at Hermione suspiciously. Dumbledore merely nodded, adding pleasantly, "Of course, my dear, but do be quick about it."

Hermione beckoned to Pansy, urging her to step into the wings, away from everyone else. Pansy cast a glance at Draco, but he was determinedly not looking at them, staring moodily into the distance. Tossing her head, she stood and followed Hermione.

Acidly, she whispered, "What do you want, Granger?"

Hermione set her teeth and retorted, "I already said: I have an idea."

Pansy rolled her eyes, "Oh goody, what does the Know-It-All have in store for us now?"

Hermione scowled at the other girl and spat, "Do you want to kiss me, Parkinson?"

Pansy's eyes widened in outrage and her mouth opened in instant protest, but Hermione cut her off. "That's what I thought! Now, shut up and listen." Pansy shut her mouth with a snap and glared at Hermione. "Instead of you kissing me, why don't I kiss you?"

Pansy grimaced and sneered, "Oh, that's even worse..."

Rolling her eyes and stomping her foot impatiently, Hermione hissed, "Would you just listen?" When the other girl was once again glaring at her, she took a deep breath and forged on. "Okay. Plays set in the time period when 'Il Muto' would have been written were obviously very lavish and caricatured. Like Dumbledore said, it's not realism. If I'm supposed to be your servant, and we're having an affair, why not have me be the one offering the affection? I can make it look like I'm... kissing your hand and arm, and I can make it exaggerated," she offered. "So, as the curtains open, I'll start, and as I'm getting further up your arm, that'll be your cue to start singing, which will make me stop!"

Hermione could see the wheels turning in Pansy's head, actually considering the idea. After a long moment of silence, Pansy spat, "Fine! Whatever. Just... let's not do it until we have to, okay?" Her lips twisted and she shuddered. In a resigned tone, she droned, "Come on..." Spinning on her heel, she flounced back to the bed, plopping on it again. Hermione followed her, heaving a relieved sigh that at least that hurdle was fixed.

When they had rejoined the cast, Dumbledore continued with the blocking. Justin emerged onstage as Don Attilio, and the scene progressed to the point where the Phantom's voice was to chime in.

Snape stood, leaning against the back wall, arms crossed. He had already used the Sonorus spell, and was simply waiting for his cue. When they reached it, he let his still-bubbling ire be heard in his voice as it echoed throughout the theatre.

When Pansy recited her insult, Snape's voice somehow became even more ominous in his retort. Pansy forged ahead in her part, and even croaked believably. So believably that other students laughed at her. She stopped, scowling furiously at them.

"Enough!" Dumbledore chided. "There is absolutely no call for that sort of thing. Miss Parkinson is putting forth a great deal of effort...for which I am grateful...so I would appreciate it if you all did not undermine her work." He cast a serious gaze over the chastened cast. A few mumbled "Sorry, sir"s met his stern look.

In the pause that followed, he continued, "Well, as we're stopped right now, I'd like to take the opportunity to test the charms for the chandelier." He pointed his wand at the huge fixture over the stage and it immediately began rocking forebodingly. Several people gasped. Smiling to himself, he turned back to the stage and said, "Very well then, let's go on." Gesturing politely to Pansy, he indicated she should pick up from her line.

This time, when she began croaking, Snape laughed. Just like at the read-through, it was dark and sinister, and truly disturbing. Hermione watched as several people shuddered uncomfortably at the evil sound. Dumbledore pointed his wand at the chandelier, and it rocked wildly, adding to the tension as Snape cried, "Behold! She is singing to bring down the chandelier!"

Pansy finally broke down and Draco rushed out to escort her from the stage as Ron and Neville raced down to the stage for their parts. Once they announced the ballet, Dumbledore stopped them again.

"Just a moment, if you please. Mr. Boot, would you join me for a moment?"

Terry hurried out to Dumbledore. "Yes, sir?"

Dumbledore beamed kindly at Terry. "I want to go over the spells for your 'demise.'" Terry nodded eagerly and Dumbledore drew him closer for a muttered exchange. Terry kept bobbing his head at each point, and Dumbledore finally backed away and gestured for Terry to climb up the stairs along the fly system to access the catwalks above the stage.

The rest of the cast watched with bated breath as Terry came into view high above them. "This one, sir?" he asked, pointing to a cable near him.

"Yes. That's the one. Go ahead and put it on like I told you. Let me know when you're ready."

Terry pulled the cable to him and began wrapping it around his body, using his wand to cinch it comfortably. After a few moments, he called down, "Ready, sir!"

"Excellent, Mr. Boot. Now, on my mark, jump!"

Everyone stared up at Terry, holding their breaths. When Dumbledore lifted his wand, Terry stepped off the railing of the catwalk and dropped. Several girls muffled frightened shrieks behind their hands. As he plummeted toward the stage, Dumbledore flicked his wand at the boy, and he stopped, jerking and swinging within view of the audience. Gasps sounded throughout the stage and wings, but Terry burst out laughing. A huge grin split his face as he cried, "Brilliant!"

Hermione could see that he was suspended by magic, and not the cable, since the cable was not taut. Dumbledore noticed too, as he mumbled, "Hmm, must see about shortening that cable..." Then, he shuffled over to stand beneath Terry where he swayed. "Now, Mr. Boot, you must look as if you have been hanged. So, droop your head to one side and let yourself go slack, please." Terry did as he was bid, but Dumbledore added dryly, "Mr. Boot, you have just been murdered. Do try not to look as if you were enjoying it..."

The cast laughed, as Terry was still grinning from ear to ear. Grimacing, he said, "Sorry, sir. I'll work on it." Dumbledore chuckled and waved his wand, shooting Terry back up to the catwalk. Taken by surprise, he yelped, which set the rest of the cast giggling again.

"All right then, let's go from your part, Mr. Weasley. Ballet dancers, are you ready?" As people scrambled back to their places, Ron recited his lines, and the girls trooped out to dance. After a moment or two, Dumbledore gestured to Terry again, and he dropped into sight once more, causing the girls to scream in fright.

Hermione called for Harry, and he rushed out to her. As they exited the stage, Neville and Ron were shouting their lines in which they tried to handle the pandemonium that ensued after the hanging.

At that, Dumbledore began the complex set change to transform the stage to the roof of the Opera House for the following scene. He directed Harry and Hermione in their flight to the roof as the sets changed, until they were where they were supposed to be for their scene together.

"Now, we will be starting with 'All I Ask of You' in a later rehearsal, so we'll just continue up to that point. Carry on."

Snape didn't like what he knew was coming, and thanked the gods for small favours that at least they weren't doing that scene tonight. He didn't think he could bear to see Hermione singing that song to Harry when their night together was still so fresh in his mind. Slowly skulking down the side aisle in the shadows as they proceeded through the scene, he was off to one side when he echoed "Christine." As soon as Hermione hissed "What was that?" Dumbledore stopped them to go back to the beginning of the night's blocking.

Snape lurked in his dark corner while everyone scrambled back to their starting positions. Hermione felt the tingle of his gaze and turned searching eyes his way, glancing around before flashing a tender smile at him. The anxiety in his gut eased a bit, and he silently slunk back to the rear wall again.

It was rather interesting to see the scenes run through again, without the stops and starts. Snape could see how it would be quite engaging once the music and costumes were incorporated. From his vantage point, the hanging looked quite terrifying, and he imagined how much of a shock it would cause among the audience when they performed. Smirking at the thought, he returned his attention to the rehearsal, determined to never miss his cues.

As usual, after the second round, they went through it once more, cementing their blocking and timing in their minds. At Dumbledore's request, Hermione and Pansy even practiced their kissing scene, and Terry managed to "play dead" effectively. By the time they were through, everyone felt that it had been a successful evening indeed.

As they crowded onto the stage for Dumbledore's final notes, Hermione caught Draco casting a hateful glare her way. When she looked away, she noticed Snape had arrived onstage as well, and he was scowling angrily at the pale boy. A flare of anxiety shot through her gut, and she chewed her lip, darting her gaze between the two Slytherins. Fortunately, once Draco had realized that his Head of House was glaring at him again, he had subsided from staring at Hermione, and had taken to shooting defiant glances up at Snape, unable to maintain eye contact under the searing black gaze.

Hermione turned her attention away from them, only to find Ginny sneaking a glance at her, with a knowing, gloating gleam in her bright brown eyes. Blinking in surprise, Hermione ducked her head, smothering a smile. Finally, Dumbledore announced that the next rehearsal would be a run-through of "the next morning" to the hanging, including the songs, on the following Tuesday, December 30th.

Chuckling, he added, "...I wouldn't dream of calling you all to a rehearsal on New Year's Eve." As the cast tittered in response, he made shooing motions at everyone and they trekked into the house on their way out of the Hall.

As they were all bustling out, Draco purposefully bumped into Hermione as he passed her, hurling a snarled, "Watch it, Granger," over his shoulder. Harry and Ron both saw the incident and charged forward to have words with the other boy, but they weren't fast enough to make it there before Snape swooped down on him, seemingly from out of nowhere.

Snape stepped smoothly in Draco's path, almost causing him to run into the taller man. When Draco stopped short and looked up in surprise, he quailed under the cold fury in Snape's face. Only those closest to them heard the Potions Master's silky voice as he said, "You are treading a fine line, Mr. Malfoy. I had hoped that you might have learnt manners at some point in your spoilt life, but I see that my hopes were an exercise in futility. I saw your little 'accident' just then with Miss Granger. Keep it up, and you and I will be seeing much more of each other... over a stack of cauldrons that you will be scrubbing with a toothbrush."

Draco's eyes flashed grey fire and he hissed, "But, sir! She's just a Mudblood..."

Snape's hand whipped up and grabbed Draco's robes at the base of his neck, hauling him about and marching him against the back wall. By this point, the students who had seen the start of this little exchange were stock still, staring in rapt fascination.

Snape shoved the slight-framed boy against the wall, gripping his collar. Leaning down until they were almost nose to nose, Snape growled, "Silence! The war is over, little boy. The Muggle-borns are on the side that won. You and those that share your opinions lost. Or have you forgotten that your illustrious father is in Azkaban?" Draco blanched at that. "If you cannot modify your views to those more in keeping with what is socially acceptable, at least keep such unpopular epithets to yourself! I told you already: shut your filthy mouth, or I will shut it for you. Never let me hear of you bandying about such vile terms again. Is that clear?" He stopped and bored his unyielding gaze into Draco's mutinous one.

Draco's jaw worked as he breathed heavily in suppressed anger and humiliation. Finally, he muttered, "Yes, sir."

Releasing Draco's robes, Snape stood straight again and retorted darkly, "I sincerely hope so." Then, he brushed his hands together and stepped back. "Go," he barked curtly. Draco shot a sullen glance over the remaining students before sprinting from the Hall.

Hermione was staring at Snape, awed by his intimidating manner. Harry and Ron were blinking perplexedly at each other, and Ginny was looking smug, her chin tilted up. Snape whirled and saw them.

"Miss Granger!" Hermione jumped.

"Sir?"

Snape scowled at the Gryffindors and snarled, "Report to my office before rehearsal on Tuesday. You know the drill by now. No later than 6:30."

Hermione nodded hastily. "Of course, sir. I'll be there."

Snape inclined his head sharply, swept them all with a glare, and spun, stalking haughtily from the Hall.

Free from his presence, the four friends finally were able to move again, and they headed up to the Gryffindor Tower. Harry and Ron were speculating about Snape's surprising outbursts regarding Draco and his old-hat comments.

Hermione bit her tongue to keep from responding. Eventually, as they all headed to their respective dorm corridors, Ginny remarked, "Listen, Snape is finally free from Voldemort. That means he doesn't have to cater to the Slytherins anymore. And he did have a point. With Malfoy's dad in Azkaban, Draco really shouldn't be spouting off at the mouth and making even more enemies. I'm kind of surprised he hasn't figured that out for himself already. I mean, Draco's not stupid, by any means, just utterly misguided and a royal prat."

Hermione laughed at Ginny's summation, but merely nodded in agreement as the boys grimaced and shrugged, keeping her opinions to herself... for once.

"Maybe," Ron opined, "but it's certainly been weird seeing all these changes in Snape recently. Kinda' makes me wonder what other surprises he might have in store for us."

Hermione was heartily glad that Ginny managed to not look at her after that comment. Airily, both girls shrugged. Nonplussed, Ginny said, "I dunno', but it's really not my problem. Being sleepy is. So, on that note, I'm going to bed. Night, all." She darted forward to kiss Harry, waved at Ron and Hermione, and disappeared.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron all exchanged good nights and parted ways. When Hermione reached her room, she penned a quick note to Snape chiding him for his explosive reactions to what was really nothing but childish behaviour on Draco's part, reminding him that such vehement outbursts simply drew attention and invited speculation. Then, she soothed the sting of her reprimand by launching into how much she missed him and loved him, revelling in her happiness.

Vanishing the ink after she finished the letter, she rolled up the parchment and sealed it, vowing to get it to Snape somehow the next day, even if it meant asking Ginny for help.