One-shot.

Author's Note: Don't own; don't sue.

“Miss—”

“Hermione.”

“Whatever your name is. I am not wearing this mask.”

“We’re going to a masquerade! You have to wear it.”

“Give me your mask, then.”

“I didn’t think you’d like lavender butterflies.”

“I’m certainly not wearing this monstrosity.”

“When you sent me on errands, your only qualification was that it be black.”

“Something without… feathers wouldn’t have been amiss, either.”

“Come on, Professor!”

“Severus will do.”

“This is the first event from the Potions Society that’s not an academic conference! You have to attend!”

“Without that.”

“There. I resized it. Better?”

“It’s… passable.”

“Then put it on!”

~*~

“Need I remind you that I am your master?”

“Only during office hours.”

“Take my hand, apprentice. I can barely see in front of me with this beak.”

“Didn’t I resize it?”

“Not enough.”

“…It was the only mask I thought would fit you.”

“Hmph.”

“Careful… stairs up ahead.”

“I have lived in this castle for decades. I think I can manage to—”

“Oh!”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“You have beautiful eyes.”

“What?”

“The mask. It brings out your eyes.”

“Severus…”

“What was that for?”

“You didn’t like it?”

“Perhaps if we took these damn masks off...”

- end.