Surprises

A/N: Thanks to RobisonRocket, who beta'd this for me. You're great!

Disclaimer: All of the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, although the situations are mine.

***

The next day, Hermione got ready to leave for the Burrow. She’d barely slept the night before, the man’s eyes haunting her whenever she closed her own.

She shuffled through her closet, not really paying much attention to what she was grasping. Grabbing rich green summer robes, she absentmindedly pulled them over her head.

Glancing at herself in the mirror, she paused and pulled the robes off her thin body, tossing them carelessly onto the bed.

She rummaged through her closet again, looking more carefully. She pulled out two robes, both with long, sloping sleeves. She glanced at herself in the mirror, holding up one robe then the other before tossing them both on the bed.

She focused on her reflection in the mirror. Her once chubby body had become stick-thin, and scars marred her torso. Her eyes moved down to her black panties, clinging to her like a second skin. She brought her eyes to her bust. Her black bra stood out against her sallow skin.

She sighed and reached again for the robes on the bed, her eyes catching sight of the lines on her arms. She grasped the black robes and held them up to her, her already pale face turning almost invisible. She moaned in despair and dropped the garment on the bed. Looking once more in the mirror, she reached for the second robe.

She pulled on the deep brown robes, which her parents had given her too many Christmases ago to remember, claiming they brought out the color in her eyes. She used to smile when she remembered that Christmas – her mother’s smile when Hermione opened the box which held the robes. But they were gone now, along with so many others, and Hermione no longer enjoyed remembering.

She looked at herself in the mirror one last time, doing a quick inspection. Over the years her bushy hair had flattened, so she now had a head-full of tightly wound curls, which she had left loose and disheveled. Satisfied that her appearance wasn’t too careless, she Disapparated.

When Hermione appeared in the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley stepped out of the way with obvious years of practice.

“Hermione, my dear, how are you holding up?” Hermione had barely gotten her feet on the ground before she was smothered into Mrs. Weasley’s warm arms.

Hermione mumbled incoherent words into Mrs. Weasley’s robes and returned the hug awkwardly. When she was released, she heard feet thundering down the stairs.

“Hermione!” She turned and saw a red-headed comet shoot at her. She was almost knocked off her feet as Ron embraced her tightly. She squeezed him back quickly and pulled away, looking up at him.

“Ron!” she exclaimed when she noticed his hair. Ron’s face turned red.

“You don’t like it?” he said, patting his hair.

“It looks like Bill’s,” she said softly, looking away. Ron placed an arm over her shoulders, trying to comfort her. Ginny came out of the living room and smiled at her.

Hermione’s lips turned upward in a smile. “Did you get home alright, Gin?” she asked, pulling away from Ron.

“Yeah.” Ginny glanced over at her mother before moving closer to Hermione and whispered, “Mum was as angry as a Howler when I wasn’t back by curfew though.” Hermione raised an eyebrow, and Ginny fought to hold back a giggle.

“How are your studies going?” Ron suddenly asked.

Hermione glanced at him and then Ginny. “Well, I finally decided what I’m going to major in.” A frown appeared on her face, and she stared at the wall.

Finally Ron said, “Well?”

“Well what?” asked Hermione, snapping out of her trance.

“What have you decided?!” Ron said with an audible sigh.

Hermione looked at him in surprise. “Oh! I’m majoring in Potions.”

Ron’s mouth fell open, and Ginny looked between the two, starting to laugh.

“Look at his face!” she shrieked, her eyes watering.

Ron continued to stare at Hermione. She sighed. “What is it, Ron?”

He closed his mouth and opened it again, but no words came out. He croaked out, “Potions?”

Hermione’s gaze never left his as she spoke. “Didn’t you hear me? Yes, Ron – Potions. You don’t approve?” ‘Oh, I forgot, I don’t care,’ the voice in her head snapped.

He shook his head, “How could anyone like Potions after Snape?”

Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. “Ron, just because you and Harry disliked Snape – dislike Snape – doesn’t mean that the rest of us do. He’s brilliant. He led us to Voldemort, and he risked his life to save Harry’s.”

Ron stared at her as if she were mad. “You’re off your rocker to think that that greasy git was brilliant, Hermione. What’s wrong with you?”

She scowled at Ron and left him standing in the kitchen. Ginny followed her out of the room.

When they reached the living room, Hermione turned to Ginny. “Where’s the meeting being held?”

“Grimmauld Place,” Ginny said, examining a fingernail. Hermione gave an inward moan and plopped ungracefully down on the plaid couch. Ginny gracefully sat down next to her in silence. Mr. Weasley came in a few minutes later, telling them it was time to go.

Standing in front of the fire, Hermione took a pinch of Floo powder and threw it in, turning the lapping flames emerald. “Twelve Grimmauld Place,” she said clearly, stepping into the fire. As she stepped out into Harry’s living room, her heart started pounding wildly. Standing not twenty feet away with his back to her was a man in black robes. Moving slowly forward, she approached him tentatively.

“Excuse me, sir?” The man in front of her turned around and her breath caught in her throat.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” he said with a sneer.

“P... p... professor?” she stuttered, taken by surprise. “I’m sorry, sir; I didn’t realize it was you,” she continued truthfully.

The man smirked at her again. “Of course, just a little misunderstanding on your part. I would have thought you could come up with a better excuse than that, Miss Granger.”

Ron appeared in the fire and gingerly stepped out. Spotting Hermione, he rushed over to her. “Excuse us, Professor Snape. I need to talk to Hermione for a moment.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her away. Hermione yanked her arm out of his grasp and looked at him.

“You needed to speak to me?” she asked, her eyes glinting.

“Yeah,” Ron said, standing straighter. “Just because you’re taking Potions at the University doesn’t mean that you have to go around conversing with him,” he said, exasperated, and added as an afterthought, “the dirty bat.”

Hermione glared at Ron and was about to snap at him when she heard, “Hermione!” She turned to see Harry walking towards her, smiling deeply. “Harry!” she exclaimed and gripped him tightly when he embraced her.

“How are you, Hermione?” Harry pulled away and looked at her, his face portraying that he saw something he didn’t like.

“We can catch up later Harry,” she said, moving away from him.

“Alright. Is every one here?” he asked, looking around.

Hermione glanced around, too. She saw most of the Order members, but her eyes stopped on a figure in the corner of the room. Her heart skipped a beat, and she moved closer to the door. He had a lean body and pale blonde hair falling past his shoulders.

Before she could leave the room, Harry started speaking, “I’m so glad that all of you could be here. We are here to restore old friendships and to make new ones.” The members of the Order murmured.

“I would like to introduce you to someone who has been working silently with us all along.” Harry motioned towards the corner, holding out his hand. The young man stepped forward and grasped Harry’s hand in his own. Ron started to cry out in outrage, but Ginny elbowed him.

The room was silent until Snape’s cool drawl cut through the air like a knife. “Draco Malfoy.”