Part V: A More Serious Interlude

Part V: A More Serious Interlude

“Hey, Your Royal Muddness,” a voice drawled across the hall, making Hermione shake her head.

“What’s up, my dear ferrethead?” she cooed sweetly, seeing Snape behind him a ways.

Malfoy snarled slightly, but decided a smirk would look better. “So tell us, how does it feel to be Snape’s tart?”

She saw Snape’s face contort, but with a tilt of her head, he stayed back.

“Why, interested in the job, Malfoy?” she replied smoothly, walking up to him seductively. “Can’t say, as I don’t hold that title, but shall I pass on your resume?”

Snape chose that moment to appear.

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“What is going on here?” Snape asked disdainfully, not focusing on anyone.

“Granger here’s been insulting you behind your back, sir. I would watch out.”

Snape raised his eyebrow at Hermione, and she suddenly wondered if she had insulted him.

“Any insult I’ve handed out was aimed at Malfoy, sir,” she said, regretting the “sir” instantly. A chorus of sniggers came from the Slytherins as many of them shot leering looks at her. Snape quelled them with a single glare, giving Hermione a dose as well.

“Your advice is sound, Draco. I would watch out,” he said, then strode off.

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That night Hermione waited anxiously for Snape to arrive. As time passed, she grew more concerned that he had been insulted by her thoughtlessness. After nearly an hour of waiting, she gave up and set out to find him, needing to apologize. He didn’t answer his office door.

Wandering about the dungeons, she couldn’t see any sign of life. She had just given up on finding him when she heard shuffling footsteps coming her way. Some instinct pushed her to hide behind a statue, for which she was grateful, as she watched Draco floating an unconscious Snape through the dungeons.

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Hermione rushed out, disregarding Draco’s blood stained robes.

“Is he alright?” she asked.

“Granger! What the hell are you doing here?”

“What happened?” she pressed, ignoring his question.

“It’s none of your business, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll disappear right now,” he snarled.

“Cut the menace, Malfoy. You’re injured, and Snape’s unconscious. Tell me what happened, and I’ll help you out.”

Draco looked at her assessingly, then sighed. “Fine, but not here. We need to get him to his chambers.”

Once he had carefully placed Snape on his bed, Draco turned, giving Hermione a vicious smile.

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“Worried are we?” he said. “He must be good if he’s convinced a Mudblood to care.” Hermione scrunched her brow, confused. “What, don’t understand?” Draco continued. “Little Miss Know-It-All doesn’t know a Death Eater when she sees one?”

Hermione scowled at him, thinking fast. “Don’t be silly, Malfoy. Dumbledore would never--”

“Dumbledore is a fool,” he spat, then raised his wand at her. “Dumbledore thinks Snape’s reformed, that he regrets his past. His robes might not show it tonight, but Snape revels in killing Mug-”

A stupefy cut short his rant. Hermione turned to see the headmaster at the hearth.

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Not questioning his presence, Hermione began, “Professor Snape’s been injured, sir.”

“I gathered,” was his terse reply as he made his way to the bedroom. Hermione followed Dumbledore, eager to help if possible. When she entered the bedroom, Dumbledore was trying to coax Snape’s unconscious body to drink a potion. After he had laid his form back down, he gave Hermione a piercing look.

“Why are you down here, Miss Granger?”

“He stood me up, sir,” Hermione answered nervously. She was relieved when his twinkle returned.

“Would you mind looking after him while I attend to some things?” he asked.

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After a couple of hours watching Snape’s motionless form, Hermione wondered if Dumbledore would ever return. She was just about to leave when a grunt from the bed turned her around.

“Professor Snape?” she queried.

“Unh,” he replied, screwing his eyes shut more tightly.

“Professor Snape, sir,” she said again.

“Uhhgg,” was all he managed, this time accompanied by a pained head toss. Worried, she leaned in to feel his forehead for fever, but the instant her hand touched his skin, his eyes shot open, and his hand gripped her arm tightly.

“Miss Granger! What do you think you’re doing?”

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She backed off quickly as far as she could with him still holding her arm.

“I was just checking you for fever, sir.”

“What are you doing here at all?” he snapped, clearly incensed.

“Professor Dumbledore asked me to watch over you until he returned,” she said nervously.

He grunted unpleasantly but let go of her arm. When she lifted her hand to touch him, though, he eyed her sharply.

“It’s to find out if you need another potion, sir,” she explained.

Reluctantly, he nodded, allowing her palm to press against his head. She sighed, relieved no fever was evident.

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Another hour passed before Dumbledore showed up. Snape and Hermione immediately mistrusted the twinkle in his eye.

“Am I interrupting anything?” he asked jovially as he entered the room. The pair glared at him, annoyed at the implication. Dumbledore held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. “I only ask because of your scheduled date.” Hermione looked at the clock, then at the headmaster suspiciously.

“I believe the headmaster just pointed out that this could qualify as a date,” she said. Snape looked at her, then distastefully at Dumbledore who promptly turned his back, beard twitching. An uncomfortable kiss ensued.

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On her way out, Hermione noticed Draco’s form still sprawled on the floor.

“Sir,” she asked Dumbledore, “what about Malfoy?”

“When he wakes up, I’ll tell him I hexed him to stop him from saying too much,” Snape answered. “I wouldn’t want to scare off Circe’s granddaughter, now would I?” He quirked his lips in an almost friendly way.

“Of course not, sir,” she said as she smiled back. Her smile faded, though, as she thought about Draco and his chosen path. “I don’t suppose Draco’s faking his allegiance?” she asked.

The somber look on two faces was answer enough.

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AN: Next up - A declaration goes awry, and Circe decides to step in - again.