Chapter Nine - Execute Their Airy Purposes

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JKR and/or Daniel Knauf. I do not profit from writing this story.

Author's Notes: My beta, melusin, has helped me greatly with this story and the writing.

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The walk to Hogsmeade felt comfortable; slow and steady in the crisp October chill. Hermione purposefully trailed behind the eager groups of students as a means of keeping them in her vision. As Ron and Harry passed, Hermione suppressed a frown at the sight of Harry shooting his godfather a goofy and surprised grin. Ron, on the other hand, merely looked perplexed. After a while, the typically unobservant redhead turned around to eye Sirius and Hermione once more with an uncomfortable grimace etched on his face.

Oddly, since her meeting with Professor Dumbledore, much of the apprehension Hermione had held with accompanying Sirius to Hogsmeade gradually evaporated while they walked side by side. His talk was casual and a bit tentative, yet Hermione did not feel the awkwardness she expected. At first, she thought that it might be a positive sign, that maybe the visit would not be as uncomfortable as she had originally assumed. But there was something concealed beneath their conversation -- almost a pretence in her manner. Whether or not she genuinely wanted to be here with Sirius was of no consequence.

"I'm not one for too much window shopping," Sirius declared as they walked down the main street. "How about we pop into the Three Broomsticks?"

"All right."

The moment Hermione entered the Three Broomsticks with Sirius at her side, several students turned to look at them. Some held gazes of complete confusion, while others put their heads together to whisper through giggles.

A few years ago, Hermione's ears would have burned at the sight of a room full of people laughing and staring at her, but such a worry seemed so unimportant now.

"Why don't you find us a table while I get some drinks," said Sirius.

Hermione walked straight towards the first secluded booth that did not have neighboring occupants. Sitting down, she glared at the younger students that dared to continue gawking at her, forcing them to turn away.

"Thank you," Hermione said, accepting the Butterbeer Sirius had bought for her. He sat down opposite her and smiled arrogantly.

For a few minutes, both slowly sipped their drinks as they gazed around the pub in timid silence.

Sirius finally turned in his seat, daring to watch her face for a few long moments. Her head was down, steady in concentration while she tried to peel the label off her bottle.

"Thank you, Hermione." He waited for her to look up before he continued. "You have no idea how much I enjoy the simple pleasure of your company."

"Is that all this is?" Hermione lightly questioned, pressing the weight of her forearms against the polished wood.

"What do you mean?"

"Us being here. Your asking me to spend the day with you. Is it merely 'simple company'?"

"I... " Sirius cleared his throat as he leaned back into his chair. "I don't know exactly. I will admit, some of the few peaceful moments I've had... you were always in the same room. But honestly, your company is anything but simple."

"About what I said-- "

"Trust me, Hermione," Sirius interrupted her, "I haven't forgotten it. I will try to keep our... interactions... professional in the classroom."

Hermione's body visibly relaxed in her seat. She decided it would be all right to begin a real conversation.

"I don't believe I ever got around to telling you," she said genuinely, "how delighted I am for you -- finally being pardoned by the Wizengamot, and after all these years."

Sirius nodded at her enthusiasm. "I'm still not used to going out and sitting in public like this. It's a change, but a good one, I think."

"Was the pardon willingly offered or did Dumbledore request it?"

Sirius snorted at her ignorance. "Dumbledore requested it. He couldn't very well employ me as a professor unless my background was cleared," he answered impassively.

"That was kind of him."

"You would think so, wouldn't you?" Sirius responded bitterly.

*** *** ***

"She fancies you," Ron declared.

"Rubbish," Harry answered over his shoulder. Gaining the attention of a shop assistant, he pointed at a large glass bowl filled with honey-colored toffees behind the counter.

"Either she fancies you, or she's trying to get back with me. And honestly, mate, I pray it's you."

"I don't fancy Lavender, Ron," Harry breathed, reaching into his pocket for some money.

Ron rolled his eyes, tailing behind Harry as they exited Honeydukes. "Honestly though, I don't care. Just don't go sucking her face in front of Ginny." Ron was too busy stuffing his mouth full of Chocolate Frogs to notice Harry suddenly stop walking.

Harry stumbled slightly when Ron collided with him, but seemed otherwise unaffected. "I would never do that," Harry spoke softly.

"I know, mate. Have you talked to her yet?"

He continued walking, face lost in concentration. "No," Harry answered slowly. "Not exactly. There's no bitterness, but there's no friendship either."

"Tough luck."

When Dean and Seamus ran across the street to join them, Harry lightly increased his pace to keep the pack of boys behind him. He tried not to appear irritated with Seamus, but at the back of his mind, Harry was imagining him on the floor of the Gryffindor common room, tickling a laughing Ginny.

Harry had hoped that coming to Hogsmeade would distract him from the stress and worries that constantly gnawed at him, but his mind refused to abandon its constant feverish musings. All summer, Harry had been so tempted to pull a 'Fred and George' and spend his available time searching for the remaining Horcruxes. His blood boiled every time he remembered the shock of opening the locket he and Dumbledore had recovered from the cave. All that hard work for naught, and Dumbledore was half his former self since drinking that horrifying potion.

Before classes ended, Harry had shown Sirius the contents of the locket for advice. The two of them had then searched Grimmauld Place for a locket that looked similar to the one Harry had seen in Dumbledore's memories. Harry was positive that one had been found amid the dusty collection of Black possessions. Maybe Sirius' brother, Regulus, might have hidden it there. But nothing was found, as most of the Black family heirlooms seemed to have disappeared at the same time in one day; all the cupboards and drawers were now empty. Sirius interrogated Kreacher, quite angrily in fact, but the magnitude of Kreacher's despair over his Mistress' missing possessions made it clear that the house-elf was not the perpetrator.

"Filthy thief," Harry murmured to himself.

The only obvious explanation was that the locket had been stolen by Mundungus Fletcher when he ransacked the place after Sirius first died.

Harry's face contorted disturbingly as that phrase passed through his mind.

First died... As if anyone can die a second time.

But, for some unexplainable reason, Sirius could. Harry prayed, by the grace of Merlin, that he could keep Sirius a little while longer, but something about Sirius seemed a bit off. Harry trusted Sirius enough to confide in him, but his godfather remained oddly quiet about his own troubles. Anyone that truly knew Sirius, like Harry and Lupin did, could easily sense that a traumatic event had occurred in order for him to return.

"Ready?" Ron's voice vaguely registered in Harry's mind.

"For?"

"We're going to the Three Broomsticks."

Harry truly wasn't in the mood to sit at the same table with Seamus.

"Go ahead, I think I'll go for a walk or something."

Ron paused, eyeing Harry curiously. "You sure?"

"Yeah, go on."

"Okay," Ron conceded. "Try to meet up with us later, all right?"

*** *** ***

"No, I'm all right." Hermione waved at her three empty bottles of Butterbeer when Sirius offered to get her another.

"I'll be right back," he said to her, heading for the bar.

Hermione sat back in her seat and tried not to look as bored as she was starting to feel.

The door to the pub opened loudly. A group of seventh year Slytherins entered and slowly edged their way around the large number of excited students, suspiciously eyeing anyone who dared to look at them too long. Zabini and Goyle walked straight up to the bar. They stood unusually close to Sirius when there was plenty of room to spread out. Nott and Pansy walked to the back of the pub near Hermione. Both sat at a table directly in front of the small corridor that lead to the loos and back door.

Leaning back with his right leg crossed over his left knee, Nott raised an arm and placed it on the back of Pansy's chair.

Hermione eyed Pansy warily. The sight of Pansy out of school uniform appeared unusually foreign to Hermione. Her grey dress robes exaggerated the extent of her weight loss; her entire body language emanated a distressed frame of mind. Eyes downcast, the normally arrogant Slytherin showed every indication that, if given the choice, she would gladly be anywhere else but here.

The sound of breaking glass and wooden stools scraping against the floor caught Hermione's attention. Back at the bar, an apologetic Goyle reached for a fallen stool as Zabini helped Sirius stand up from his seated position on the floor.

"I apologize, Professor," said Zabini with a stony expression on his face. "Here, let me buy you another."

Flustered, Sirius removed his cloak as he brushed a few stray stands of his long hair out of his face. "No, no need for that." He noticed Goyle behind him. "Ah, yes. Thank you, Goyle. Just put it right there."

"Please, Professor," Zabini continued, "I insist." He quickly attained Madam Rosmerta's attention and ordered two more drinks.

"Well... uh... thanks," Sirius stuttered as he accepted the drinks.

As Sirius turned to walk back to their table, Hermione noticed the two seventh year boys immediately head straight toward Nott. But instead of sitting down, both boys raised a hand to scratch their noses and quickly exited the pub by the back door.

"What was that?" Hermione asked, accepting her unwanted drink.

"Ah, nothing. Just some boys horsing around."

Nott continued sitting there bone straight, his leg bouncing restlessly against his knee. Pansy, on the other hand, was on the verge of tears.

Nervously scratching at the whiskers on his chin, Sirius leaned toward Hermione with a determined expression on his face.

"Hermione," he called to her.

"Yes?" she answered passively without looking at him. She knew she was being rude, but her every nerve throbbed as adrenaline coursed through her. Something wasn't right about that group and she was determined to find out what.

"I think I should be perfectly honest with you-- "

Hermione stood up from her seat the second she spied Nott flee out the same back door.

"Excuse me," she said to Sirius without truly looking at him, "I need to go to the loo."

Hermione swiftly dodged various students as she edged her way through the maze of tables and chairs in the pub. Approaching the small corridor that led to the toilets, Hermione couldn't help but pause at the sight of an emotional Pansy.

Gnawing obsessively at her fingernails, Pansy blankly stared off into nothingness as light tears etched down her pale white face.

Hermione felt compelled to say something; but she knew she was wasting precious time.

Finally reaching the back door, Hermione pushed open the heavy wood and stepped into the damp alleyway behind the Three Broomsticks.

Lightly closing the door behind her, the putrid stench of stale urine and overripe vegetables filled her nostrils. She leaned against it, trying to discern the sound of footsteps on the uneven cobblestone passageway.

Looking both left and right, she felt clueless as to which way she should go.

Finally pushing herself away from the door, Hermione cautiously edged her way down the vacant alley, stopping periodically to peer down the intersecting streets.

*** *** ***

"Look at my dress!" a seventh-year Ravenclaw girl screamed.

"Awful, isn't it?" Luna answered dreamily. "But at least you are still alive."

"Alive!" the girl shrieked, brushing off globs of mud from her robes.

"Oh, yes, thankfully the Lethifold passed right over you."

"What in Merlin's name is a Lethifold?" the girl hissed angrily.

"Well, obviously, that is a Lethifold."

From his vantage point across the street, Harry followed Luna's outstretched hand as she pointed to a long, dark cloak flying oddly against the wind.

"You would have been suffocated in seconds if it had got a hold of you. They're mostly attracted to gaudy robes with loads of clashing colors."

"That," the Ravenclaw hissed, "is just a lost cloak!"

"Yes, that is what they usually look like to materialistic witches."

The frustrated Ravenclaw screeched in anger, pointing her wand at Luna's legs. Ankles bound, Luna toppled over into the same pile of mud she had pushed the Ravenclaw girl into.

"Hey!"

Harry heard a female voice scream behind him the moment he took off running to help Luna. Lavender Brown quickly passed Harry, stopping to stand in the space separating the two Ravenclaw girls.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Lavender screamed, undoing Luna's bound legs with a flick of her wand.

"The crazy bitch pushed me."

"Oh, please, she's in your house. You of all people should know Luna would never do something like that without good reason. It would have taken you two seconds to Scourgify the mud."

Picking Luna up out of the mud, Harry smirked when the indignant Ravenclaw seethed at the sight of Lavender's pointed wand and reluctantly turned away.

"Thank you," Luna said to them, finally on her feet. Oblivious to their concerned stares, Luna wildly shook her wand in the air to rid it of the thick mud.

Harry flinched when flecks of dirt sputtered onto his glasses.

"Scourgify!"

"Oh, I could have done that myself," Luna said to Lavender.

Ignoring her, Lavender turned to Harry to repeat the same spell on his glasses.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"What was up with her?" Harry asked Luna as the three of them watched the Ravenclaw march up the street.

Luna nodded knowingly at Harry's statement. "Sad, isn't it? That robe must have cost a fortune, too. She would have been safe if she hadn't worn that horrid lime-green dress."

Shaking his head, Harry laughed at Luna's typically insensible nature.

"Let me buy you a drink, Luna," Harry beamed at her.

"Why?" Luna asked, eyes wide.

"Um, because I want to?" Harry said. "I do tend to buy my friends drinks, you know."

"That's nice of you. I'm sure I would have loved it," Luna spoke in a monotone voice. "But, I think I'd rather owl my father."

And with that, the dreamy sixth-year Ravenclaw slowly paced up the street toward the Post Office.

"Does the offer still stand?"

Harry started, forgetting that Lavender was still standing next to him.

"What?"

"The drink?" She questioned playfully. "Except, I'd like to buy you one."

"Um, all right. But I'm really not in the mood for the Three Broomsticks."

"Oh, that's all right." Lavender smiled, reaching out to touch his arm. "It'll probably be too crowded, anyway."

"Yeah."

*** *** ***

As she passed the numerous back doors to the various shops in Hogsmeade, it finally occurred to Hermione that Sirius would still be waiting for her. She hoped that as time passed he would not grow concerned and attempt to come looking for her.

A couple of streets south of the Three Broomsticks, Hermione finally heard the noise she had been hoping for. Just around the corner from where she was standing, the soles of thick boots scrambled against the cobblestone alleyway. Hermione heard the harsh argument of more than one voice echo down the street, yet was unable to decipher what they were saying.

Walking backwards to the nearest shop, Hermione edged her body into a dark doorway. She listened to the voices drawing closer, debating whether or not it would be logical to attempt to get nearer.

A surge of bravery coursed through her. But, the moment she took a step toward the street, strong arms closed around her. A cold hand with long fingers pressed tightly against her mouth.

"Scream, and I promise you will regret it," a deep voice whispered.

Hermione's moment of sheer panic instantly vanished as the recognizable voice breathed against her ear.

"Stupid girl," the voice hissed. "How typically Gryffindor of you to be sneaking around where you don't belong."

Hermione raised her arm to her face, trying to pull his hand away from her mouth.

Professor Snape's other hand tightened around her waist, crushing her against his chest.

"Stop your fussing this instant," he whispered harshly. "Before I choose to let you go, I want you to promise me that you will do exactly as I say, is that clear?"

He continued when she showed no sign of acceptance. "I said, is that clear, Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded mutely against his hand.

Without making a sound, Professor Snape swiftly rounded Hermione so her back pressed flush against the wooden door. Towering over her, Snape lowered his upper body to align his eyes with hers. He placed his arms on either side of her head so she couldn't run away.

"Listen to me," he said urgently. "You are to stay here and be quiet until I come back for you."

The voices on the other side of the street grew louder as the seventh-year Slytherins approached their corner of the alley. Hermione couldn't resist the temptation to divert her eyes towards the escalating argument. Professor Snape grasped her chin with his thumb and index finger, forcing her to look back at him.

"You will stay here."

Hermione did not hesitate to nod mutely against his hand.

In an instant, Snape turned from her and stepped out onto the alleyway, heading straight for the heated voices. This time, their words were much clearer.

"Shite! Snape!" Goyle yelled.

"Well, well, what have we here?" Professor Snape drawled. "A lover's quarrel? Although, the presence of a third party is a tad unorthodox."

"Piss off, Snape."

Hermione was shocked to hear a member of Professor Snape's own house speak to him so rudely.

"Not until I get what I came for, Mr. Nott."

"Jealous?" Zabini hissed.

"Of overzealous and reckless adolescent wizards?" Snape scoffed. "Hardly. I enjoyed that little scene you caused, though. I'm sure the twenty-odd witches and wizards in the pub enjoyed it as well."

"None of those idiots knew what we were doing," Nott pressed on.

"Perhaps... but I did. Now, hand it over," Snape said icily.

"Why?" Zabini barked. "So you can take all the credit for yourself? You're just as Malfoy described you."

"Ah, yes, continue to listen to the advice of my beloved godson. He didn't heed my warning, and look what happened to him."

Hermione stayed rooted in place, ears straining during the long, deafening moments of silence.

"What's the matter?" Snape finally spoke. "Kneazle got your tongue? Now, I know for a fact that the Dark Lord did not order any of you to do this, which leads me to believe that you have obtained some information that was not intended for your ears. Why the three of you were foolhardy enough to take it upon yourselves to steal that timepiece is beyond me."

"Ad-admit it," Nott stuttered. "You're just angry that we've succeeded where you haven't."

Suppressing a mocking laugh, Snape's voice rumbled deeply in his throat. "Please, do not tell me you are under the impression that I have been ordered to steal that?"

Another pause of lingering silence flooded the alleyway.

"Your father must be very desperate indeed to get back into the Dark Lord's favor, Mr. Nott. Pity, really, he didn't assist Lucius or Macnair when they attacked members of the Muggle government."

"YOU KEPT THAT ASSIGNMENT HIDDEN FROM HIM! BECAUSE OF YOU HE IS LAUGHED ABOUT LIKE A MISERABLE COWARD!"

"Manners, Mr. Nott," Snape said silkily. "So, now you've decided to take it upon yourself to... surprise... your master with this risky feat? Oh, we all know how much he loves surprises. Draco had the same idea in mind when the Dark Lord ordered him to break into the Headmaster's office. Instead, he decided to please his master by attempting to kill Dumbledore in the process. Tell me, Mr. Nott, when was the last time you saw your dear friend, Draco, let alone talked to him?"

"Fucking hell, Theodore--" Terror rang in Zabini's voice.

"SHUT UP! Don't listen to him!" Nott screamed.

"By now, the three of you should know that that isn't the wisest thing to do."

"Just give it to him," Goyle pleaded.

Nott released a frustrated bellow that bounced off every window and stone in the alley.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" Snape snarled.

Sucking in a nervous breath, Hermione pressed her back against the wooden door as she waited for the outcome of his attack.

A large solid weight fell on the damp street with a heavy thud.

"Now," Snape menacingly purred. "If the two of you know what is good for you, you will desist in listening to any more of Nott's foolish scheming before you get yourselves killed. Do I make self clear?"

"Y-y-yes, sir," Zabini and Goyle murmured.

"I want the three of you to walk back to the castle, and try not to do anything further to draw unnecessary attention to yourselves. Finite Incantatem!"

More uneasy silence.

"I SAID MOVE!" Snape barked.

The heavy soles of boots quickly scrabbled up the street, heading away from Hermione's hiding place in the doorframe. She quickly prepared herself when the sound of footsteps approached her from the left.

Snape elegantly stepped in front of the doorway, a bemused expression crossing his face at the sight of the haughty Gryffindor with her wand raised. Expecting her to lower it, his expression soured when she raised it higher at the sight of him.

"Haven't we played enough of this game, Miss Granger?" Severus sneered.

As Snape entered the doorway, Hermione briefly caught sight of a glimmer of black metal disappearing into one of his pockets.

"Don't come any closer," Hermione warned.

"Why ever not?" Snape mocked, taking a step toward her.

"You can't do it. You're a professor... I won't let you do it... "

"Stop your babbling, girl. What is it you think I will do?"

"You're going to Obliviate me," Hermione breathed, her fear escalating as the words left her mouth.

Snape stopped advancing on her. His lip twitched in amusement. "Am I?"

"Aren't you?"

"Never crossed my mind. If I wanted you to remain ignorant I would have been mindful of the volume of my voice."

"Oh." Hermione allowed her wand arm to fall limp in the air.

Seeing his opportunity, Snape lunged at her. Grasping her by the wrist, he pushed her further into the darkness until her back pressed against the door.

"Why do I have the feeling that you do enjoy this game, Miss Granger," Snape purred.

"I-I don't."

"Are you scared?" Severus asked quietly. His graceful hand grasped her smoothly by the jaw.

"Yes," Hermione breathed. "But, not in the way that you think."

A triumphant bell rang loudly in the back of Severus' mind as Hermione willingly raised her face to look at him. The small hand enclosed in his firm grasp fell limp, and her warm body relaxed against the door he had her pinned to.

His skillful fingers still holding her by the chin, Severus raised his thumb and slowly slid it along her bottom lip. Lightly panting, her hot breath burned his chilled skin.

"You are treading on very dangerous ground, Miss Granger."

"So are you." With hooded eyes, Hermione spoke against his hand, willing her lips to brush against the skin of his finger.

"Indeed," Snape purred, smoothly pulling away from her. "Five points from Gryffindor."

Hermione slowly opened and closed her eyes before she finally comprehended what he had just said.

"Excuse me?"

"For raising your wand to a Hogwarts' teacher," Snape continued.

Backing up, he stood straight with his arms crossed, waiting for her to step out into the alleyway.

Hermione didn't know if she should hex him or laugh at his audacity. With the loss of contact, goosepimples rose along her arms and back. The sun would be setting soon and Hermione still needed to walk the students back to the castle.

Stepping out onto the alleyway, Hermione flushed as she made eye contact with her Potions master.

"I need to hurry," she said timidly. "Sirius must be looking for me."

Snape's eyes narrowed at the mention of that loathsome name. "Very well, I trust you can find your way back?"

Tightening his cloak against himself, Snape marched down the alley in the opposite direction, robes billowing behind him in the wind.

*** *** ***

Odd, really, how one can easily tolerate the reek of goat mess and stale mead the longer you wallow in it.

For once in a very long time, the unworldly weight that had precariously rested on Harry's shoulders for the last two years lifted a fraction. She was... different. Completely strange to have a conversation with, alone, for longer than a quick greeting. Yet, Harry had to admit that it was abnormally refreshing.

"Oh, eww... " Lavender grimaced, sliding her manicured finger down into her mug. With a disgusted frown on her lips, she pulled out her hand. Hanging by the tip of her bright nail, a rather long-legged spider swayed in the air before finally slipping back into her Butterbeer.

Harry quickly pressed his hand against his mouth, hoping he wouldn't spray the blonde girl with saliva and mead.

A shocked smile graced her face. "Are you laughing at me?" she said through indignant giggles. In mock anger, Lavender flicked her wet fingers in Harry's direction.

"No."

"Then stop grinning!"

"I'm not grinning."

Harry stared at Lavender's scowl, determined to keep a straight face.

It didn't work.

"I hope you find something hairy in your mug," she teased, throwing a peanut shell at his messy hair.

"Look at it this way," Harry smiled, pushing his hair out of his face, "at least you drank most of it before you noticed."

"Ugh... "

A light-hearted pause passed between them. Harry took the moment to gaze around the Hog's Head, wondering if there was anyone in here he might know. But the lightest touch on his hand caught his attention.

Eyes bashfully downcast, Lavender grazed the back of Harry's hand with her thumb before she spoke. "Was this a pity drink?"

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't have to buy me one just because I invited you here with me."

Harry's expression hardened. "If I had wanted to leave after your drink, I would have."

Lavender removed her hand from his and leaned back into her seat. For once, her face was void of the confident and flirtatious expression she had held since they arrived.

"I know. You're very different, Harry."

Harry uncrossed his legs, sitting straighter in his seat, and sent her a quizzical frown.

"Than the other boys, I mean."

Harry would have laughed or scoffed at such a clichéd comment if she hadn't looked so uncomfortable saying it. He raised his mug to his mouth, giving himself time to think of an adequate reply.

"This wasn't too bad, was it?" she questioned shyly.

"Honestly, no, it wasn't." Harry admitted.

*** *** ***

"Hermione!" Ron called to her as she entered through the back door of the Three Broomsticks. "What were you doing out there?"

"Drank too much," she said matter-of-factly. "I needed some air."

Hermione pulled out a chair next to Ginny. Catching the fiery redhead's attention, Hermione raised her eyebrows in question at the sight of Seamus' chair so close to hers.

"Have any of you seen Professor Black?"

It was Ginny's turn to raise a knowing eyebrow. "He went looking for you."

The door loudly banged open, and the table turned their attention towards a slightly flustered Harry.

"Perhaps we should start heading back," Seamus said to Dean. "It'll be dark soon."

"I think I'll walk back with you," said Ginny, rising from the table to stand by Seamus' side.

Chin pointed in the air, Ginny avoided Harry's furious gaze as she passed him and walked determinedly out the door.

"What've you been up to?" Ron questioned, his eyebrow arched accusingly.

"Hog's Head."

"With whom?" Hermione asked.

"Lavender Brown."

Ron jolted, his legs falling off the chair they rested on. "I knew it!" he cried, smiling arrogantly.

"It's not like that, Ron. We were helping Luna see off a bully, and it just went from there."

"Uh, huh. Right."

"Never mind that, now," Hermione said irritably, wanting to take advantage of finally having the two of them alone. "Harry, when did you start having odd dreams again?"

Caught off guard, his eyes widened before he shot Ron an accusing glare. "Couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you?"

"So, you would really want to keep that from me?" Hurt rang heavily in Hermione's small voice.

Harry adjusted himself in his seat. "Well, no. Not like that."

"When did they start?" she delicately probed.

Harry reached for a stray cork on the wet table. Spinning it in his fingers, he swallowed a few times before he thought of what to say next.

"Since the summer. After... Nagini."

"Who's in them?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," he lied.

"How strange. Do you think there's a connection?" Hermione asked.

Both boys sent her perplexing looks, unsure of where she was going with this.

Hermione sighed irritably. Turing around in her seat, she eyed anyone who stood within hearing distance of their table. "With the Horcruxes!" she whispered harshly. "You attempted to spend the summer looking for the rest of them, didn't you?"

"Yeah. I wish I still could, now."

"What's stopping you?" Ron asked.

"Dumbledore. He wants me to wait."

Hermione leaned closer to him. The tips of her curly hair grazed the numerous mugs on the table. "In heaven's name, why?"

"He told me about the ring. Marvolo Gaunt's ring. When he destroyed it, it left him injured and he's afraid the same thing will happen to me. He says that I might be afflicted by the ancient curses protecting the Horcruxes."

"No," said Hermione in a monotone voice, leaning back into her chair.

Ron lifted his head out of his hands. "What do you mean, 'No.'"

Shaking her head from side to side, Hermione chewed madly at her bottom lip. "He couldn't possibly believe that. Not after everything. You've already destroyed two Horcruxes, Harry. Riddle's diary, effortlessly I might add. You were twelve and clueless as to its true nature. And Nagini. And, since you are sitting here live and well, I can only assume you left that act moderately unharmed."

Harry's breathing quickened as he sat there. A loud rushing sound filled his ears.

"AND, you were alone both times."

She was right. None of this added up. Either Dumbledore truly believed what he had said or he had been deceiving Harry this whole time. Again.

A suffocating heat spread across Harry's face and chest. He was sick of this. Always being left in the dark; always having to guess and to speculate and being informed of crucial information by other parties. If only someone would tell him exactly what was going on without worrying about his feelings or trying to protect him, he would feel much less useless with his own destiny.

*** *** ***

Hermione sped up the main street toward the castle, unconcerned if she nudged the other students as she passed. She had grown weary of waiting for Harry and Ron as they took their time in the Three Broomsticks. She had hoped that Sirius would return there if he couldn't find her in any of the other shops, but she couldn't sit around any longer. If Dumbledore saw him return to the castle unattended, he would regret giving Hermione the responsibility and probably take the task away from her.

Not that Hermione was eager to do it, but at least it was something.

"Sirius!" He was a few hundred yards ahead of her and just outside the gates to the school grounds. Pulling up the tail of her dress robes, Hermione sprinted faster to catch up with him.

"Sirius!" she called again. Sirius turned around to make eye contact with her, only to turn back towards the castle. He did not stop walking, but he did slow his pace.

"I'm sorry," Hermione panted when she finally reached him.

"Are you ill?" Sirius asked emotionlessly.

"What?" Hermione pushed her sweaty curls out of her face, thankful that he didn't want to walk faster.

"You were rather a long time in the Ladies." He still refused to look at her.

"Sirius," Hermione said earnestly, grasping him by the arm to make him stop walking, "I'm sorry. Truly I am. There was a tussle in the alley, and I couldn't hear it and not do anything about it. It's my duty to take care of the students."

Sirius' grey eyes softened a bit at her apology. He looked down at her grasp on his arm and pulled away lightly. "Lucky them," he said dramatically, walking past her.

"Please," Hermione continued as she ran to stand in front of him. "Please don't stay angry with me."

Hermione was desperate to remain on good speaking terms with Sirius. Her task would be almost impossible if he remained livid enough to stop talking to her.

Frozen in place, Sirius could not ignore the agitated fear in her eyes.

Finally smiling, Sirius reached his arm around her neck to pull her into a tight embrace. "I could never stay angry with you, Hermione."

Hermione tried not to stiffen in his arms.

"Oy!" Ron yelled from across the lawn. He looked at the two of them with an insulted scowl on his face. "None of that, there are first years around!"

Harry quickly ran by Ron, smacking him on the back of the head as he passed.

"Bugger," Ron breathed. He finally tore his eyes away from Sirius and Hermione to chase a laughing Harry up towards the castle.

Laughing, Sirius lowered his arms and motioned for them to continue walking. "I didn't get to spend nearly as much time with you as I wanted," Sirius spoke to her with an arrogant smile across his mouth. "You must make it up to me."

Hermione tried to answer in good humor. "How am I supposed to do that?"

"Dinner. This instant. My office."

With an uneasy frown on her face, Hermione apprehensively eyed the yellowing grass at her feet, weighing the consequences of this request. Didn't he listen to anything she said?

She sensed Sirius turn towards her, and immediately met his eyes. "All right."

"Excellent."

*** *** ***

"More pudding?" Sirius asked Hermione lightly. Both sat at a small table in the corner of the Defense Against the Dark Arts office in front of a crackling fire.

"No, thank you, I'm stuffed," Hermione answered.

This was an awful mistake, Hermione thought. If Sirius invited her to his office sometime in the near future for another meal, she would quickly decline. He interpreted everything she said or did as evidence of her growing attachment toward him. Hermione was disturbed by the number of times she needed to remove her hand from the surface of the table whenever his edged a little closer. Nothing should change between them. He should be satisfied to have her friendship alone.

"I should be going," Hermione spoke softly, placing her napkin on her plate.

"So soon," Sirius whined as he watched her rise from the table.

"It's almost ten!" Hermione laughed.

Sirius refused to stand up from his seat. "But, you don't have a curfew."

She crossed her arms in slight annoyance. "Yes, but I still have a bedtime that I like to adhere to."

"All right," Sirius sighed, reluctantly rising from the table.

After exiting his office, Hermione intentionally walked a few feet in front of him towards the classroom door. Earlier in the evening, when he had escorted her to this very dinner, Sirius had kept placing his hand in the small of her back.

Once outside the classroom door, Hermione abruptly turned to face him.

"Thank you for dinner," she said.

"The pleasure was all mine, but let me walk you back to your rooms." Sirius attempted to close the door behind him.

"NO!" Hermione caught herself at his perplexed expression. "Thank you," she said more calmly, "but there is no need. I would enjoy the time to myself."

Sirius' eyebrows pinched in disappointment. "Very well. I did have a really good time today, Hermione," Sirius said honestly. Gazing down at her, Sirius leaned into her as his hands gripped her firmly by the waist.

Hermione quickly turned her head, his lips making contact with the flesh of her cheek.

She quickly smiled shyly at him to head off any embarrassment. "Please, slow down, Sirius."

Sirius nodded reluctantly as he watched her turn away from the door and walk down the corridor. "Good night."

"Night."

Oh, Merlin! An uneasy flush spread from the nape of her neck down her whole chest. He tried to kiss me!

Hermione still believed that Sirius meant well, he was just hopelessly conceited where his own charms were concerned. She would have to be extremely careful in their further interactions. She would hate for him to think that the feelings were mutual.

"Have a pleasant time?" a rumbling voice sneered sarcastically from deep in an alcove.

Hermione jerked slightly at the surprise, but quickly turned her attention towards her Professor.

"Somewhat," she answered confidently, chin raised.

Arms crossed, Professor Snape remained leaning against the wall, the heel of his left foot pressed casually against the stone. He smirked as he watched her poise slowly wane.

"Not the fairy tale you expected?"

"I've learned that there is little I can expect anymore, so I might as well accept what comes my way." Her heartbeat increased when his eyes suddenly narrowed.

"Indeed."

"Were you following me?" Hermione asked.

"Why would I want to do something like that?" Snape sneered.

"Well, you're here, aren't you," Hermione replied haughtily.

"I still fail to see what that has to do with you? Typical supercilious female assumptions. Black may enjoy the warm company of young witches with such flaws," he leered at her, satisfied at her shocked expression, "however, I do not."

"As if I give a damn what you think about me!" Hermione hissed, turning her entire body to face him head on.

"All for the better," Snape drawled. "No need for a Mudblood to fight a losing battle."

"I am NOT a Mudblood," Hermione shrieked, closing the few feet that separated them in her angry outburst.

As Hermione's loud voice echoed down the empty stone corridor, Professor Snape swiftly reached out to pull her into the alcove. Ignoring her shocked expression, Snape pushed her against the stone wall and quickly pressed his chilled lips against hers, forcefully kissing her.

Instantly, all fight left Hermione as her body melted against his vigorous kiss. His warm tongue was a delightful contrast to his chilled lips and even colder nose. His arm reached around her, grasping her robes in the small of her back. Hermione hummed at the welcome contact and raised both of her arms to his shoulders. Opening her mouth in welcome, she whimpered when he bit her lip.

Languidly pulling away from her, Snape's face hovered mere inches in front of hers. The edges of his shoulder-length black hair brushed against her face. "You really do need to adjust your riotous behavior, Miss Granger."

Slowly opening her eyes, Hermione nodded mutely as she gazed into the black pupils dissecting her. Her heart was beating maddeningly in her throat as his eyes drifted back to her full lips. He slowly raised his left hand to her face, stroking the soft skin of her cheek.

The same cheek where Sirius had kissed her.

"What is this?" Her hands still on his shoulders, Hermione clenched at his robes to stress who she was talking about.

"What was that?" Snape asked as he continued lightly touching the skin of her face.

"I don't want him," Hermione breathed.

Severus quickly met her eyes, a stony expression on his face. He descended on her again, but paused mere inches before their lips met. He watched her in deep concentration as she raised her face toward his. Severus slightly pulled back, only to have her reach toward him again.

"Good." He tightened his firm grip on her waist, and roughly pressed his mouth against hers.

---

Author's Notes: Snape has finally taken some initiative. From here on in, there will be many more scenes/interactions between Hermione and Severus.

-My beta, melusin has spent a good amount of her available time going over my story with a fine tooth comb.

-Chapter title take from John Milton's Paradise Lost, Book i, Line 430.

-Next up: After another horrible visit with the werewolves, Remus attempts to relax with the help of his lover. Hermione spends her Sunday afternoon in the company of her severe Potions master. Harry reads a startling article in The Daily Prophet, finally prompting him to demand answers from Dumbledore. And Sirius unintentionally falls asleep, forcing him to confront his own demons.