Chapter 7

Disclaimer: All this belongs to J.K. Rowling, as always, with an exception this time: I borrowed one line from Tolkien. So sorry, people. It's kind of a groaner.

A/N: Many thanks to my beta, Mel.

The day was dragging. This was a new experience for Hermione, who usually reveled in her classes and loved her work. Each minute felt like an hour, and she could almost hear the seconds thrumming in her veins in time to the beat of her heart. She was distracted. This could not be allowed. She steeled herself to focus and pay attention to her work. The day finally passed, but it felt like an eternity.

The previous night she had returned to the Gryffindor common room, deciding it was too late to put up with Professor Snape and the strange hold he seemed to have over her. She was tired, and she went to bed after securing the thestral heart. She needn't have bothered trying to get any rest. Hermione usually slept as purposefully as she did everything else in life, but last night was an exception. Her dreams kept her from any real rest; she was just on the cusp of sleep all night. The dreams teased her with images she couldn't quite make out. She wanted something, but she didn't know what. When she woke in the morning, she was cranky and unrefreshed, with a sort of longing that felt as if she had just lost something and couldn't quite remember where it was. It was extremely vexing!

Since Hermione was awake before everyone in the school anyway, she decided to drop the heart off at Snape's; then she could go about her classes in peace. She made her way to the same entry door she'd used previously and knocked, her bad mood evident in the strident tone her knuckles made upon the wood. That there was no immediate answer rankled her unreasonably, and she knocked again...louder and with faster rhythm...until she was practically beating upon his door in a rage. When it finally swung open, she was so involved she was almost surprised, and had to quickly snatch her fist back so as not to punch Snape as he stood there.

"Yes, what?" Snape bit out, having obviously been disturbed. He was wearing a robe (in Slytherin green, which may have amused her at any other time, a small part of her made note) and was in an unusual state of dishabille. She must have roused him from bed, which was understandable, given that he was recovering, but she had not considered that. Suddenly faced with his utter humanity, her senses were assailed and she could think of nothing else. Her eyes seemed to take on a life of their own and gave Snape a good once-over, drinking in the sight of him standing there in his pajamas. Hermione could see that although he was slender, he obviously was well-muscled, and she wondered why she'd never seen that before. She yearned for nothing more than to have him pull her into his strong arms and embrace her. That thought was so shocking that it managed to break the reverie into which she had fallen. Her cheeks stained the brightest crimson she was sure they had ever been, but at least the tableaux was broken. She cleared her throat. "Uh, sorry to disturb you. I have something for you, Professor."

If he had noticed her overeager perusal of his person, Snape gave no sign. "Come in, Miss Granger. The damage is done; you may as well enter. Although, in the future," here he gazed at her as she brushed past him, "perhaps you may do well to ... draw less attention to yourself?" He said the last part laconically with a bit of a smile. Hermione looked down and just hurried past him. Why did she always make such an idiot of herself around him?

Snape shut the door and led her into the same sitting room as before. They both took the same chairs. Hermione had intended to hand off the item and storm out. She was not really mad about anything, but she was tired from a night with no sleep, and the whole situation was feeling contrived and coerced to her. Well, perhaps not contrived, but she was definitely a pawn in a game she didn't want to play, and she wanted out. Now. She preferred to be on a playing field with opponents she could understand, and she wasn't so sure about what was going on with Snape. This made her uneasy. In fact, why was she still sitting here?

"What did you bring for me, Miss Granger? Was my confidence in you well placed? Don't dare to tell me that in the short span of a few hours you managed to bring me my ... heart's desire, as it were?" Snape sneered a little.

Hermione rummaged in her bag and brandished the thestral heart without preamble. It looked worse in the light of day, out of the crudity of Hagrid's hut and surrounded by the finer things in Snape's quarters. She didn't meet Snape's eyes. "You might have given me a bit of a clue, Professor, if you wanted it that badly. I thought I had to slaughter a wild animal!" She couldn't help sounding a little indignant.

Snape's eyes glowed a little as he reached for it. "Ah, Hermione, you do deserve all the accolades that have been bestowed upon you!"

Hermione reeled from hearing her name from his lips. She had to get ahold of herself! She was acting like a silly schoolgirl with a crush! On Professor Snape, of all people...it was embarrassing. She sneaked a glance at him and saw him gently examining it. His black pajamas under the green robe were not buttoned up as far as his formal robes usually came, allowing her a glimpse of his chest. It was alabaster, even paler than his hands, but the skin was flawless as marble, and she wanted to see more. He was talking. She had better stop this ridiculous mooning and listen.

"I didn't think you would be resourceful enough to find one, actually," Snape was saying in wonder. "This is much better for our purposes, and I am glad that you were able to succeed without bloodshed." His eyes snapped up to her face and he nodded curtly. "Well done, Miss Granger," he stood abruptly. "Now I need to see to the potion. You will stop by after your classes; it should be ready by then. I will have the next part of your instructions in place, and you will find out what I need from you then."

Hermione stood up. "I got you this impossible thing. Can't you ask someone else now?"

Snape was already past her and holding the door open. "There is no one but you."

Hermione ignored the thrill those words gave her and headed to her first class of the day.

*

Never had she had such an interminably long day, and she blamed Professor Snape entirely for her lack of enthusiasm for subjects which had previously held adequate fascination. Since both he and his demands had entered her life, she could think of nothing but him. The fact that she had sought him out first was one that she pushed uncomfortably from her mind. Ever since she had gotten entangled in this mess, she had not been feeling depressed, but she was not going to give Snape credit for that. He credited himself with too much already, at least in her opinion.

Hermione dodged students deftly in the hallways and tried not to notice that the feelings of exhaustion fairly dropped away from her with each step she took towards Snape's rooms. The anticipation was growing in her belly, and she was nearly running by the time she turned the last corner to his door. She wondered what she would have to do next, what he would have her do, and she was so absorbed in her own thoughts that she didn't see the huge boy step out from around the corner and block her way. She hit him with all the force that she would a brick wall, and the wind was knocked out of her, her books flying. She sprawled on the ground, not seriously hurt, just surprised. It was Vincent Crabbe.

"Well, well, what do we have here? A Granger, caught off her guard," smirked Draco Malfoy. Hermione quickly stood up, dread overtaking her. She saw that Gregory Goyle was there to complete the loathsome trio. This did not bode well.

Hermione's mind was racing. The best way to deal with Draco and his thugs was to walk a fine line of disinterest. If you knuckled under to him, he enjoyed it too much to let you go, but if you humiliated him, he was dangerous. Hermione picked up her books. "I'm not off my guard, Malfoy, I'm just busy. Don't you have better things to do than to push girls around? Like go steal candy from a baby?" She made eye contact briefly and noticed that she had to look up to him since the last time they had had a run-in like this.

"Where is the rest of your ... threesome?" He leaned over and said the words suggestively in her ear. She couldn't help shuddering in disgust, and he laughed.

"Why don't you sod off, Malfoy, and take your cronies with you?" she gritted out, a little embarrassed that that was the best retort she could come up with.

Malfoy circled around her and looked her up and down. "I don't think so. You're in my hallway, mudblood; you're going to play the game my way. Right, boys?"

Crabbe nodded, but Goyle cracked his neck from side to side.

A sudden light lit Draco's eyes. "Why are you here, anyway, mudblood? Sneaking around?"

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, I wasn't sneaking, Malfoy! Even you could see that I wasn't making a big secret of it." Hermione suddenly realized her mistake.

Malfoy looked interested. He took a step closer, which was a step too close for Hermione's comfort. He was behind her, and with Crabbe and Goyle in front of her, she was feeling cornered. "So what were you doing here, near dear old Slytherin? Coming to pay me a visit? I'm touched. Why, exactly, were you running down this hall so quickly?"

Hermione could feel the slightest wisp of warning magic around her neck, like a stray hair, to remind her to watch her words. So the vow was still in effect. Interesting. She filed that away for later, because it didn't help her now. She took a breath, but was drawing a blank. Why would she be in the hallway leading to Slytherin, if she couldn't mention the fact that she was making a visit to the Potions teacher in his private rooms? "I ... had a fight with Harry and Ron." The words were out before she knew it. "I need ..." she cast about for something suitably horrible that they would understand. "Revenge."

It sounded weak and laughable to Hermione, but Draco couldn't seem to believe his good fortune. "You've come to the right place. I can help you with that. For a price, of course," he added, eying her craftily.

"Oh, come off it, Malfoy. You want to stick it to Harry for free!" Hermione couldn't believe his nerve. He was so smug, he bought it hook, line and sinker. It made her sick. She hoped that he got what was coming to him one day.

Malfoy couldn't help the duplicitous gleam in his eyes. "What did you have in mind, Granger?"

"Oh, I figured I'd see what you thought," she demurred to him. "You're better at these sorts of things than I am, being Slytherin, after all." She put a slight slur on the word Slytherin as an insult, but Draco took it as a compliment, the idiot. Draco liked it when girls played dumb. All she had to do was play up to him and bide her time. Hopefully, Snape would come out looking for her, see what was going on, and rescue her! Or, she amended hastily, at least put an end to Draco's torment. No need to get carried away with romantic notions!

"Yes, it's true. As it turns out, I do have a plan to humiliate Potter." His pretty features twisted as he spit out Harry's name as if it were a poison. "We needed someone who is close to him to make it work. This will be the perfect chance!" He smiled wickedly.

Hermione felt a little sick. If Draco already had a plan to hurt Harry, maybe she had better go along and foil it. That would be the best thing to do, so that Draco couldn't just rope someone else into doing his bidding later on. She tried to seem enthusiastic. "Okay, tell me what it is."

Draco looked at her, his eyes narrowing. "I can't do it here. I have to show you. In my room. That's where the things are, to, uh, give to him. And Weasley, of course." Draco seemed to think something was funny. He was smirking. "What's the matter, Granger, losing your nerve?"

Hermione didn't trust him for a moment. The waves of menace were almost palpable in the air around him. She was worried about Harry, though. She hadn't been a very good friend to him lately, and this would be a good way to make up some of it. Hermione shrugged, trying to put on a show, and leered back at Draco, hoping she didn't look as silly as she felt. "You have no idea how much I want to give him exactly what he deserves. I'll do it."

Draco turned on his well-polished heel. "Crabbe! Goyle! Come on!" They were only a few paces from the Slytherin painting, and Hermione felt the other boys right behind her. Draco spoke the password in a deliberate undertone, and the painting swung open. She stepped into her enemy's common room, feeling, ridiculously enough, like she was being escorted to jail.

Slytherin was not that much different from Gryffindor, though she was loathe to admit it. It had a consistent silver and green snake theme throughout to demonstrate house allegiance to any person in doubt, but then again, Gryffindor was equally overzealous in its support of the red and gold. She could have done without the black leather couches, but they did look comfortable. She hardly had time to take in much more, as she was herded along and up the stairs before any of the Slytherins that were reclining could make note of what Draco was up to. The four of them entered the boys' dormitory area, and Draco pulled out his wand. "Colloportus!" The door locked.

Hermione began to get nervous. "Malfoy, why don't I wait downstairs, and you bring what it is down there?" she tried to keep her voice light. "Girls aren't allowed up here, anyway."

"Maybe not in your house," Draco countered. "You are staying right here." He waved his wand around. "Muffliato!"

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat. The idea of what could possibly occur here had never even presented itself to her before. Malfoy was annoying, yes, and bad in every way, but ... actually evil? The thought that he could physically harm her had never entered her head. She had always been safe at Hogwarts, had never felt a threat like this, and she froze at the idea that danger might come from her very own classmates, no matter how much she had disliked them in the past. She had to talk, to reason with him. He couldn't be as terrible as this.

"So, Draco..." she tried not to grimace at the use of his first name, "you said you have a plan to get even with Harry, and I really can't wait to hear about it. Can you tell me about it? I'm sure you've thought it over for a long time." There, appeal to his overinflated ego.

Draco grinned at her. "Actually, Granger, the idea just came to me in the hallway. The best way to get back at Potter is to hurt one of his friends. You said you wanted to do that, so thanks a load." He winked at her. "The fact that you walked right up here just made it a lot easier for me. I am going to break you, Granger." Draco pulled his tie off. "Crabbe, Goyle, grab her."