Perspectives

~o0o~

The sunlight was pouring in from the gap in the curtains on both sides of the bed when Hermione awoke, finding herself alone in the bed, and for some reason, grasping Snape's pillow in her arms. She looked up, scanning the room for Snape, although there was no sign of him or any sound coming from the loo. She was alone. She had only a vague notion of whether or not he'd even been to bed at all since she'd obviously been holding his pillow while she slept. The memories of the arguments from the night before and his smug declaration regarding their living situation came flooding to her, and she sat up abruptly. What do I think has been going on here? I'm being held here against my will, forced to do his every whim and made to suffer all kinds of indignity just to save his bloody arse – that's what! She threw his pillow to the foot of the bed, saying, "I am not living with the man!"

Aetos snapped his beak and turned around on his perch in mocking disapproval.

She recalled his words the night before with full clarity. Sure he wants me, sexually! He made that perfectly clear. He desires to have me in his bed, to bathe with him and to be under his control – HIS control! His magically bound concubine wife! I get to be his sexual slave and at his disposal for a year. In a year, then what? I'm free? Thank you very much, good-bye! What if Voldemort wins, then what? I remain his wife, or he dumps me and hands me over to Voldemort to be killed? Or worse, to be another Death Eater's sex slave? 'Lucius Malfoy and Lestrange wanted you...' he'd said... and Dolohov apparently. She kicked the bedcovers off in frustration, feeling like a kid throwing a tantrum. He said I made this happen...

'What do you think has been going on then...' His words echoed again in her mind.

Bloody Merlin! No! She scrambled from the bed, backing away from it as if it were her entrapment. His bed! Is this why he's had me sleeping with him... to come to terms with the fact that we're to be married? To get used to the idea of being his wife? She spun around, taking in the room. The nightstand by her bed still held two of her potions, her books, and a vase with a flower whose petals were just starting to wilt. She'd suddenly realized this was the fourth flower in that vase. Does he – did he – put that flower there – for me? She'd assumed it had been Peren who'd left her flowers. She turned and her gaze swept over to the wardrobe. The wardrobe – his wardrobe. Except it's now mine, too, isn't it? One section of the wardrobe is full of my things, those things Snape let me keep! Only it's warded so it hurts my hands when I open it. Does that make that part mine or simply the things in it are for me but not really mine at all?

For me... She ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

On the shelves above the tub rested the basket with her bath salts, bubble bath, shampoo and conditioner. The conditioner he made for me... The bath salts and bubble bath that I enjoy so much because of their fragrances. She suddenly realized that they were a mix of ylang ylang, sandalwood, rosewood, ginger, jasmines, and blended with the subtle scents of ferns and woods. For their calming effects! He's given me aromatic aphrodisiac scents to induce a calm, soothing – amorous mood? Oh, oooh! Turning, she yanked open a drawer and saw her brush, toothbrush, toothpaste, dental floss and a razor, lying neatly in a row. The drawer also contained a fresh bar of soap, jar of hand cream, a jar of herbal salts, one of oiled raw sugar, another containing a peppermint-scented salve for her feet, a fingernail file, nail clippers, and a small container of cotton swabs. She quickly shoved the drawer closed. On the counter next to a box of facial tissue were two bottles of body lotion in the same scents as her bath products. A bar soap that had a fresh lavender and fern scent sat in a small dish.

'Tell me what items you need, and I shall get what you require,' his words echoed again.

Everything I asked him for.... Things he made for me to use... Things that just appeared for me to... She pulled opened the cupboard under the sink and saw her pad-cups and straps, clean and folded up neatly in another basket next to extra bath tissue rolls and a box of facial tissue. Hermione's hands began to shake.

Once again, she heard his voice. What did you think was going on then...

Oh, my, gods... It's true! She slammed the cupboard closed, her hands shaking. She stood up and looked in the mirror at her reflection. Her eyes were slightly dilated, but her skin looked smooth and unblemished, as perfect as porcelain. Her normally bushy hair had the luxurious look of those hair models that advertised perms, and fell past her shoulders in a cascade of soft, rippling curls.

She stormed back into the bedroom, pacing around; furious, angry, her breathing ragged and her heart pounding. She wanted to throw something, anything, to vent her frustration and her burgeoning panic. She caught sight of the two tumblers from the night before, sitting on his bedside table, obviously magically repaired. She picked up one, then the other, throwing them against the wall, just missing the large painting. She'd been in denial, clinging to hope, not really listening to him, not wanting to face the facts, but now she had to.

Aetos screeched in annoyance as the glass shattered both times and snapped his beak at her.

This is entirely his fault! He could have – he should have let me go... staged something! But no, we're to be married! Hermione screamed in frustration.

~o0o~

Severus and Cillian sat in the dining room. Cillian had owled earlier, asking if he could stop by to ask Severus his advice. Severus had a vague idea what his friend needed to talk to him about and had sent the horned owl back with his consent. Of all his friends and acquaintances, Cillian had remained a true and trustworthy friend. He was one wizard that Severus could always confide in when they were younger, and the friendship between the men still stood on those grounds. Cillian had confessed after the Dark Lord's fall that he'd been relieved. But with the Dark Lord's return, Cillian had returned, just as Severus had, and resumed his pledge of loyalty. Severus would have approached him about spying for the Order, but Cillian's family had been hosting the Dark Lord for months, and his sister was as enamored and amorous of the Dark Lord akin to Bellatrix. Not only that, but Cillian wasn't as accomplished with the skills of Occlumency and was still honing his skills. But Severus knew it would only be a matter of time before his friend would want another option, and he waited.

The knock on the door came only seconds after the owl had flown out of the window. Cillian must've been waiting outside on the street somewhere, Severus thought as he'd opened the door. Peren had served them some freshly baked blueberry scones and breakfast tea as soon as the men sat down at the dining room table, and then disappeared into the kitchen.

"Where is Draco, your apprentice?" Cillian asked as he stirred half a spoonful of sugar in his tea.

Severus smirked at his friend. "Still asleep, why?"

"And the other – the Rat?" Cillian asked, looking at the doorway.

"The same. Draco was up late because of a potion, and the Rat's never up this early. We have the house to ourselves for the time being." Severus leaned back in his chair, the relaxed pose designed to put his friend at ease.

"And the elf?" Cillian asked, stirring his tea.

Severus smiled. "She's not a problem; don't be concerned. So what did you need to talk to me about?"

"My bloody sister, what else? You've heard the latest decrees from our Lord, haven't you?" he asked, brandishing his spoon at Severus. He scooped up some more sugar for his tea, never taking his eyes off Severus' dark ones. "First, all eligible males are to find suitable mates – wives – as in married. Secondly, all families must begin trimming the undesirable branches from our family trees. Belinda and Horrance have already turned in six from the family. It's madd-en – my favorite cousin, Madeline. I barely had enough time..."

"Yes, I've heard about it," Severus stated calmly, a subtle hint of his true feelings reflected in his tone.

"Severus, you know – don't you? I don't know how you manage to keep off the – I mean... Oh, shite, man! If you weren't a favorite you would – could – I'd be warning you!"

"Don't worry about me, I watch my back – and few know," Severus stated, watching his friend's distress. "I hadn't realized your family tree needed so much trimming?" Severus exhaled slowly. Not all of Cillian's family is as loyal as his sister or as devoted zealots either. Of his extended family, only a few are known supporters, and only two of his brothers.

"My parents have been lenient with my two older brothers, let them marry whomever they wanted. So have my aunt and uncle with my cousins," Cillian stated, adding in another scoop of sugar to his tea. "Bryon and Stephanie fled, and the kids are safe for now. He didn't want to listen, doesn't want to believe it'll happen, but at least he took precautions. Madeline and Lewis moved, put their new home under the Fidelius. Nevertheless, they trust the protection of the Ministry. Marc's lucky, his wife's acceptable. But Marc – he's ever loyal... and Justin, just don't hurt his kid brother – me! Merlin!"

"You warned them, what more can you do except Imperius them to hide," Severus said, sipping his tea. "From what I've heard, the Ministry will fall under the Dark Lord's control soon. It's just a matter of time. We already control two major departments covertly. Yaxley, Runcorn and MacCavish are going to try and push Muggle-born registration through the Ministry." Cillian sipped his tea, scowling at the taste, and Severus smiled as he watched his friend set the cup aside. "So is that all Belinda has been up too lately?" he asked.

Cillian's eyes became guarded, and he shook his head warily as Peren inconspicuously exchanged his cup of tea for a fresh one. "Belinda wants me to marry someone else. She's being insistent actually." Severus cocked an eyebrow and Cillian continued. "She's selected my future wife, a Roquewood."

"Roquewood? One of Eugene Roquewood's daughters? The older one or the younger? Oh, either one would turn my stomach, let alone yours. Clairenne – now there's a barmy witch. That's a delightful match," he said sarcastically.

Cillian expression turned sour. "Larissa," he said with distaste.

The younger one... Larissa? "And you don't care for the girl?" Severus knew the answer, smirking at his friend.

Cillian snorted as he sipped his tea, grimaced and added a scoop of sugar. "Larissa's okay, I suppose..." he said with a sneer. "But her nose is pointy, and her voice sounds like a house-elf's, and she's... dumb."

"Ah, yes, I remember you saying something about that before, at least once," Severus said, remembering the girl in question. An idiotic and clueless twit... "As I recall you said she's as witty as a troll and compared her favorably to a pissed off Veela." He sipped his tea, watching Cillian stir another scoop of sugar into his cup.

"Don't jest; didn't you have her as a student?" Cillian asked. He took a sip and grimaced, pushing the cup aside. Peren discreetly exchanged his cup for a fresh one again.

"Yes, Slytherin, thin, long blonde hair that always fell into her face or into her ingredients, blue eyes with one that wandered inward occasionally, not too tall, fairly chesty," Severus replied with a hint of sarcasm and a subtle sneer. "Always coming to me about some drama over some boy or another. Melted a cauldron a week, if I remember correctly. Delightful girl."

"Yeah, that's her," Cillian said. He sipped his tea, frowning at the taste, quickly set the cup down and added in a half spoonful of sugar. They could hear Hermione in the silence as she walked around upstairs. "Your witch seems to have finally woken up," Cillian said jovially as he set his spoon back down.

"Apparently," Severus said, calmly sipping on his tea. A door slammed upstairs. That would be the loo.

Cillian looked up as if to see Hermione through the ceiling. "I suppose she's not in a very good mood this morning."

"We had a bit of a – discussion last night," Severus replied, exhaling slowly. "Your sister and Narcissa Malfoy had a little talk with her. Well, Narcissa isn't very fond of Hermione, and you know how Belinda is." He could detect the faint sounds of the cupboards slamming upstairs. Severus let out a long, slow breath.

Cillian lowered his gaze, smiling at Severus. "Yes, I heard something about that. Sis does like to meddle, doesn't she? Still, the two of you are compatible, no?"

"I don't think she's come around yet." The bathroom door slammed again. "So, is your sister still forcing you to accept the match?" Severus asked, redirecting the conversation.

"What do you think?" Cillian asked gruffly. "Comes from a very old bloodline, properly connected, wealthy, both parents and her brothers are in the circle... She's ecstatic that Roquewood still approves of the match, considering that Mum and Dad are still Imperiused."

"But?" Severus asked. Hermione was pacing, he could hear her footfalls through the ceiling. Larissa would of course be thrilled to land such a catch. There's no way she could do better.

"I can't stand the witch. Besides, I'm involved with someone else..." Cillian looked up at Severus, his expression guarded again. "Can I trust you, Severus?" he asked, his eyes darting from Severus to his cup and back.

So, you are still serous about Dianne. "As much as anyone," Severus said with a soft chuckle. Cillian's always been a bit of a lad, a guy's guy but good with the ladies and a rather charming rake. Dianne wanted nothing to do with him. Still, he'd fallen for her the day he met her.

"You told me you remember Dianne from Hogwarts, right? Bright, pretty, great sense of humor... Nevertheless, Belinda expects me to break it off," he said, breaking off a piece of his scone and eating it. "Wrong family. Dianne's parents were childhood sweethearts... But her mother and her father are Muggle-born, undesirable all the way." He sat back, staring at the mismatched dishes in the hutch behind Severus. "Having your wife chosen for you simply because of her bloodline – I feel like a bloody Thoroughbred..."

Yep, he's still with Dianne. No wonder Belinda's trying to push the match with Miss Roquewood. She'd have quite an aversion to Dianne... "What do you want to do?" Severus noticed that the candelabra shimmed slightly as Hermione stomped across the floor upstairs, making the shadows in the room shift minutely.

Cillian looked up to see what Severus was staring at. "I suppose I won't be seeing her today."

"Probably not," Severus said, and he leaned back with one elbow propped up on the back of his chair.

"What am I going to do about Larissa? What if the Dark Lord approves? I can't stand the witch." Cillian looked back at Severus, one finger tracing the rim of his cup. "I don't want to break it off with Dianne. What am I going to do about my sister?"

Suddenly the loud crash of glass, followed by a second crash made Severus look up again. "You're asking me what to do with a witch?" he asked, looking at Cillian, trying to maintain his composure. He was answered by the dulcet sound of Hermione's scream. "It's usually the other way around, isn't it?"

Cillian scoffed as he shook his head. "Merlin, that's what I like about you, you ole' bat. Straight shot from the wand." He became quiet a moment, then looked up at Severus, his expression contemplative. "I may need your help, Severus."

"What is it you want?" Severus asked. A door upstairs slammed, then another, and Cillian looked questioningly at Severus. "Draco's in the upstairs loo," Severus clarified for him. "So are you going to finally confide in me?" Are you ready to know? Are you ready to take a stand?

Cillian nodded. "I'm certain Belinda's going to try and do something to Dianne and her folks," he said softly.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Severus said, his face becoming serious. "How far are you willing to go in order to protect her?"

"Keep this between you and me," Cillian said as he leaned forward, putting both elbows on the table as he cradled his cup in his hands.

Severus nodded solemnly. "Haven't I always? We go way back, you and I. We know each other's secrets. You can trust me."

"I Imperiused her parents and hid Dianne and her folks in a cottage under the Fidelius Charm," he said, watching Severus's reaction.

Severus nodded, fairly sure that the cottage was the same cottage that had been the private hideaway of Cillian's grandfather. It's been protected under the Fidelius from the Gwynek women for years. I don't think Cillian's dad even remembers about it. "We've both sneaked away to your cottage a time or two as I recall. I'm glad you still have the place, if we're speaking of the same place."

Cillian nodded and relaxed a little. "I also took her sister and brother to stay with relatives in Germany... and they are delighted to take the kids. Dianne had her mum write a letter to her great aunt, telling her it would be best if the kids attend school there for a year. But if anything happens to me... Severus, I'm not ready to be married – yet. And certainly not with Larissa Roquewood!"

Severus looked at Cillian thoughtfully. "Cillian, I don't know what I will be able to do or how much I can promise. If the matter is pushed on you – you could always insist on a hand fasting. I can certainly assist you with the pregnancy problem." He sat up, his dark eyes becoming serious. "You know that I'm to go back to Hogwarts as Headmaster this year. I have you down on the list of men I want with me."

Cillian nodded with a look of relief. "Of course, I'll be glad to help out at Hogwarts. You'll have your witch with you?"

"Yes, that's the plan." The room upstairs became awfully quiet and Severus hoped that she had finally calmed down. "The fact is, I'm to have the Carrows, Rowle and Travers under me as well. Hermione will be attending classes, and she'll have enemies within the castle. Draco will be under orders to watch her, but so far they're not getting along – yet. The Dark Lord wants it to seem that Hermione has come over to our side – as my wife. The way things are going, I may need your help with her. More than half the staff is unhappy with my assignment – Minerva McGonagall for one – who's refusing to be demoted under Alecto Carrow. Alecto expects to be assigned as Deputy Headmistress and for me to simply make Minerva step aside – gracefully. And your sister's been sending owls again."

Cillian wolfed softly with laughter. "And I thought I had witch problems. Sure, this should be fun and solve one of my problems as well. Oh, I should warn you, Belinda's fuming over your pending marriage. Watch your back."

"Already aware of that problem, but thank you," Severus said, smirking.

~o0o~

Hermione stopped and turned her head, her gaze falling on the bookshelves. "So IF he won't help me out of this – I will have to find a way," she said aloud.

Aetos hooted in response.

"The answer has to be here – somewhere." She scanned the titles of the spell books. "Snape can do wandless magic – I've seen him do it several times. Somewhere he learned how..." Her eyes swept the bindings, trying to discern what the books would be about by the titles. The titles for several of the spell books were in Latin; many were vague, which didn't help. The stinging sensation when she reached for a thick volume nearly made her cry out, and it took several tries to pull the book from the shelf. It was an old, outdated Charms book. She scanned the list of contents, noting that many of the spells were now considered Dark Arts. She placed the book on the chair and tried another. After only three books, she had a knot in her neck and shoulder she couldn't stretch out. Great! If I only had my wand, I could just Levitate the ones I wanted. She doubted that, but the thought was appealing. Accio, wandless spell book... she thought pointing her finger at the bookshelves.

Her finger pointed to a short, light brown book. Taking one more deep breath, Hermione grabbed for the book, knocking down two others as she did so. The sharp pain from the wards shot down her arm, shoulder and neck, making her cry out softly. She collected the three books. Sitting down on Snape's side of the bed, she opened the light brown book. It was a journal of sorts. The writing was small, slanted and tight, almost like Snape's. This must have belonged to Snape's mother... Eileen Prince! There were comments about Gobstones, mixed in with comments about other students and professors. Several entries were about spells and variations on them. Many of the variations were crossed out. On one page it looked like information had been copied down from a page from another book. The old style of writing was difficult to read, and Hermione carried the book to the window for better light.

'Sill not able to do this' was written next to a square that may have been the letter 'R.' "Asmeagan baet... no – be – on ymbe gewealdan..." she read aloud softly. Great, it's old English! The tiny script under the line read, 'think of, to do, have the power over... Think of what you want to do, which you have power over....' Yes, this is it! She concentrated on reading the tiny script. 'Concentrate your thought on the intent... focus your will on the intent. Find your focus on the power within and direct that power through you at the intended target or action... Focus your intent on that which you want to do.' This doesn't make any sense. Think of – concentrate thoughts and focus, direct my power at the intent ...

Focus my intent on that which I want to do. You think? How? The notations in the page didn't provide any further clues. Hermione turned the page. More Gobstone techniques and her personal entry. Eileen wasn't very popular with the boys. The next page was full of Transfiguration notes and comments about school, classes and the weather. Several pages later there were more notes on wandless magic. She was trying to learn how to do it! The notes were clearer and more precise, however, still confusing. Finally, Hermione turned the page, looking for more notes on wandless magic. Sixteen pages later was a page copied from another book, this time talking about directing your thoughts. Hermione read the passage and set the book down.

She got up and went around the bed to get her Galleon out. I did this once. Concentrate. Hermione focused her mind on the frustration and anger she felt towards Snape. She focused on her intent as she built up her anger and held the coin in her fist. It vibrated. She opened her eyes. Trying again, she concentrated on the Galleon and her desired action as she tried to make the coin read, Harry, I need you. After several tries, still nothing. Direct the power within at the intent... She tried again. Bugger. Maybe if I try changing the coin when I exhale...? She inhaled deeply, then concentrated on the coin as she exhaled. Harry I need y appeared.

Yes, okay. She waited, hoping.

Finally the words Mione is U appeared.

Yes! she wanted to scream, pointing at the Galleon and the coin vibrated. After several tries, she managed to make the coin read yes. She stared at it, stunned. Looking at the flower on her bedside table, she decided on her next message.

The coin vibrated. You okay? appeared.

She concentrated on saying for now several times, growing frustrated with herself. Finally, 4 now appeared on the Galleon. Yes! I have to tell him, she thought...

Where are you appeared, followed by come get you, then tell me.

No use hiding it from him, he knows. She concentrated again, this time on SS safe 4 now and after three failed attempts, the Galleon finally showed her message.

The Galleon vibrated again, reading come home.

Hermione seethed at the subtle request, knowing that as much as she wanted to she could not. The letters on the Galleon changed to cannot in one try. Okay, Voldemort saw you in my mind – no, too long. Got it. She could hear footsteps in the hallway. Keep it simple – single letters... She closed her eyes, focused her anger at the men in the house, opened her eyes and pointed at the coin. V C U in me appeared far easier than any of her other tries.

The bedroom door opened up, and Hermione looked up to see Snape leaning in the doorway, watching her. She quickly ducked the Galleon under her leg as he entered the room. "I will not steal from you, Miss Granger," he said, amused. "Have you finished your tantrum from this morning? Draco could use your assistance in the potions lab."

Her eyes narrowed at his accusation. "I was not throwing a tantrum."

His lips curled into arrogant smile. "Pardon my mistake. The sounds of slamming doors, shattering glass, your pacing and your resounding scream led me to assume otherwise. It was quite entertaining from downstairs." He crossed to the bed, looking down at her. "As I have said, Draco will require your assistance today. So, you are coming down to the potions lab to assist him."

"Fine," she said. She tucked her Galleon under her pillow and slipped on her dressing robe and boots. "I don't really..."

"I don't care what you want. You're needed," he said firmly, taking her arm and pulling her with him as they passed through the wards.

"Don't you think it's time to let me pass through the doorway on my own?" she asked.

"And let you wander the house unprotected? I don't think so, Miss Granger," he said as he guided her downstairs. Once in the potions lab, he turned to Draco. "I have staff meetings today. You and Hermione are to brew those potions I've given you to do, together – amicably. I expect my lab to be in the condition it is now when I return with all three potions on the cooling rack. I want them to be of exceptional quality."

Draco had crossed his arms when Snape had entered and listened to him, his face impassive, although his eyebrow quirked when he'd said her name. "Yes, sir. And if I get summoned?"

"Wormtail is on an errand. He may be gone all day or just a few hours. Lock her in here or in your room again if you have to leave." Snape turned to Hermione as Draco walked into the storeroom to collect supplies. "Miss Granger, this is not a punishment, even though you've removed my books again without permission." He spoke softly, looking at her, amused by the change of anger to fear in her eyes as he spoke. "This is for your own good, not as confinement – I don't trust the Rat. Please, obey me on this and don't give Draco a hard time. Try and get along."

"I will if he does," she replied, her eyes darting to the storeroom door. She looked back and saw that he meant what he'd said. "I'll try."

"Fair enough," he said, releasing her. "We'll discuss the books when I get back."

Hermione walked over to peer in the storeroom. "Draco, is there something I can do?" she asked, biting her lip.

Draco turned, looking as if he was about to snap at her, then seemed to change his mind. He held out a stiff piece of parchment. "Yes. This is one of the potions we're doing. Collect – please, collect the ingredients that I – we need."

Hermione took the parchment gratefully, relieved that he was at least going to try and get along with her, and scanned down the list. The potion was a Ministry Restricted and Controlled listed Mind-Altering Elixir. She looked up, catching Draco's stare. He was looking at her as if he dared her to comment. Hermione simply nodded and quickly collected the ingredients, hoping that no one she knew, met, heard about or ever cared about would fall victim of the potion she was about to brew. A thick knot grew in her stomach as she pulled out the copper cauldron and began to arrange the ingredients on the worktable.

Draco followed her from the workroom and placed a silver cauldron on the worktable next to her cauldron. He set his ingredients on the worktable next to the silver cauldron as well as several ingredients that made up the Wolfsbane Potion. "Draco?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowed in concern. "That – those are the Wolfsbane Potion ingredients. Why are you going to brew the Wolfsbane Potion – in a silver cauldron?"

"Mind yourself, Grang – Hermione," he snapped, then quickly amended his tone. "Snape said the Dark Lord wanted this potion, and Snape was quite specific on how it's to be brewed." He set the silver cauldron on the flame. "Pour in the artesian spring water and castor bean oil in your cauldron."

"But... are you able to brew Wolfsbane?" she asked, then bit her lip as Draco's eyes flashed angrily.

"It's not Wolfsbane Potion, Gran – Hermione, it's..." His eyes darted away from hers and then down to the worktable as he started pulling the legs and wings off the grasshoppers. "It's not really your business."

Hermione noticed that he was bruising the thoraxes. "Draco, I'm sorry. It's just that if made wrong..."

He thrust the bloodmire berries at her. "It's not Wolfsbane per se. Look, we're to make it and I'm to deliver it to him..." He dropped the grasshoppers into the cauldron and began shredding the Aconite. "There are things you shouldn't ask about – for your own good."

Hermione fell silent, carefully preparing the ingredients Draco wordlessly handed to her, following the instructions on the parchment. As the potion brewing continued, she grew increasingly worried and unsure as to what they were making and why.

When the potion was halfway through, Draco lowered the flame to let it simmer for a few hours and indicated that she move over to the copper cauldron. "This one is tricky, and we have to move fast. Therefore, we'll take turns. But keep up."

"No problem. I can keep up with you," she replied, sounding a bit cockier than she meant to.

He ignored the jibe as he started chopping up the duck tongues while Hermione pressed the white sap from the fresh Oleander stems, careful not to get any on her fingers. "Okay, add a spoon full of the sap on each third stir. Ready?" he asked, picking up the long-handled spoon. She nodded, easily adding in the sap as his hand moved away from her on each third turn. "Hemlock's next," he stated briskly.

Hermione quickly shredded the water hemlock leaves, laying them in the cauldron, checking to see which ingredient was next while Draco diced the jacana gizzards into tiny pieces and adding them immediately after.

She grabbed the echidna quills, carefully cracking and grinding them, while Draco ground the alfa leaves as finely as he could. "They have to be mixed together with fennel oil before I – we put them in," he directed.

She handed him the small bottle of oil. "Okay, Draco, you can have the honors," she replied, handing him her quills since she finished first.

"Then you stir," he said sharply.

Hermione let the tone slide. "Next is the moonshood roots, followed by the angelica root. Since these roots need to be thinly sliced, how about you do those, and I'll do the angelica when I'm done stirring?"

He nodded, picking up the knife. "What color is it?"

"Burnt orange, but still a bit murky." She pulled out the rod and watched the timer. Twenty seconds, then stir again twenty times. At exactly twenty seconds, she started stirring, adding the single reverse stroke to every five turns with the potions spoon. The potion turned a clear broth-like brown. "Okay, ready," she said, picking up the angelica roots and beginning to slice them thinly.

"Faster, Granger, the potion's turning," he snapped, measuring out the dwergklauwotter fur.

She'd just finished the roots when he pushed the dandelion leaves at her. "This is next and add the steiffel goat horn powder," he said, dumping in her roots and adding his hairs.

Hermione stirred sixteen times clockwise, adding the dandelions, stirring them in, and added the steiffel goat horn. Draco grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back just as the potion sputtered violently. "Thanks," she said, surprised by his concern.

"It always does that. I should have warned you," he said, picking up the dusky shrew tails. "Do the fenugreek leaves next and add the ground ginger."

"I thought that the meadowsweet salicylates were next," she asked, confused.

"I'm nearly done with the tails. You cut the fenugreek in thirds and drop them in," he said, stirring the potion. "By the time you finish with the fenugreek, my tails go in, then the ginger. After that, it'll be time to add the peppermint, and the potion will be done."

As soon as Hermione added the peppermint, Draco turned her to face him, looking at her chest and shoulders, his eyes sweeping over her exposed skin intently.

"What?" she asked, unsure why he was staring at her so.

"Did you get any of it on you? I couldn't stop to check," he said concerned. "You won't feel any burning; it's like tingling, a cold tingling feeling?"

"No, I don't think so," she replied as he took her hand to examine her arm carefully. "Really, Draco, you pulled me away before it splashed on me. I'm fine."

"Okay, just checking," he said, turning away from her and walking to the storeroom. "You check on the other potion while I get the stuff for our next. When that potion," he said, pointing to the potion they'd just made, "starts to get a white foam, lower the heat. I'll be back."

Making the third potion went a lot more smoothly between them. Brewing with Draco wasn't as comfortable as brewing with Snape, and he definitely wasn't as skilled, but she did notice that he was more accomplished now than when he'd been at school. Draco still on occasion called her Granger, but he would amend his statements and questions by adding her given name. For the most part, this was the most amiable he'd ever been with her. He was even looking at her differently, more appraisingly, and often had a curious look in his eyes. Well, he is under orders to get along with me and be friends.

There were only three more steps to do on the first potion when Draco suddenly hissed. "I'm being summoned. Stay in the potions lab until I get back. Follow the next steps exactly, and let the potion simmer. Peren will give you whatever you need," he barked at her as he ran from the room.

As fate would have it, it was only an hour later that Hermione felt the urge to relieve herself. She looked around the room, contemplating what to do. The constant trickle of the water from the spout on the wall into the catch basin wasn't helping matters any. In fact, it was making things far more uncomfortable. Draco had been adamant, as had Snape, that she wasn't to wander the house unattended, but she really had to go. Apparently, neither trust Wormtail, but he's not home... I think? She bit her lip and squeezed her legs together. The constant trickle of water seemed louder than usual, and she simply couldn't disregard the sound. I've got to go... can't turn it off... I've really got to go... He couldn't have meant that I can't go to the loo... augh.... Gingerly, she walked to the door, opened it, and listened.

She could hear the trickling sound of the water behind her, but nothing else.

Hermione slipped through the door and closed it slightly behind her to cut off the sound of the water, feeling a shiver down her spine. She listened intently for any of the noises Wormtail usually made.

Silence.

Hermione quickly ran down the hall and up the stairs, the urge to pee becoming unbearable. On her way back downstairs, Hermione heard a door slam. Feeling much lighter, she assumed that either Snape or Draco had just come home. She hoped that the wards to the potions lab still recognized her.

Wormtail suddenly rounded the corner in the hallway as she passed the dining room doorway, and Hermione came to an abrupt halt.

His eyes opened wide as soon as he saw her, and then he smiled lasciviously. "Hermione, sweetness, how delightful to see you," he said, his eyes traveling down her body disarmingly, taking in the green silky night slip and robe, eyeing her with a lustful appreciation.

"Where's Snape?" she asked, then immediately regretted it. The way he was looking at her made her terribly uncomfortable.

The Rat smiled as he slid his hands on his baggy jeans as if they were sweaty, and took a step toward her. "He's not here?"

"Potions lab," she squeaked, taking a step backwards.

"No, I don't think so," he said, moving closer, licking his lips, his eyes fixated on her chest, and she instinctively moved backwards again. "Snape went to Hogwarts this morning. He's not here, is he? He'd be out here by now if he were. No, it's just you and me – all alone – isn't it?" he asked, stalking after her. "And I finally get to talk to you – to explain." He tried to reach out for her and grab her arm, and she flinched, stepping backward. "Hermione, sweetheart, don't be afraid of me. Please, don't be like this. I just want to talk to you."

"No, I think you've said enough," she said, slipping into the dining room.

Wormtail followed her. "Hermione, wait, love..."

Bugger. The lab... "Please, leave me alone," Hermione pleaded. "If Snape stepped out – it's only for a minute – he's due back..."

"Hermione, I just want to talk to you, so you can get to know me better," he said as she slipped out the other door.

Hermione tried to get into the potions lab. The sharp, stinging sensations made her recoil as she reached for the doorknob. Trapped! The loo, I can lock myself in the loo! She turned to run down the hall for the stairs but Wormtail stepped in her way.

"Hermione, sweet Hermione, don't run. I'm not going to hurt you – I promise. Not like last time." His eyes raked over her, his expression libidinous.

He smells of booze! "Oh, I bet. What about your hand? Huh? Please, just leave me alone," she pleaded, turning around in hallway. Nowhere to go – there's nowhere I can go! She ran for the classroom door and found that it was locked. Wormtail had followed her, reached out and grasped her hand, pulling her to him. Hermione stumbled, and he pinned her against the wall, his silver hand pressed on the wall by her head as the other slid up the side of her body.

"I so remember how you used to touch me, Hermione. The way your fingers stroked my fur," he cooed, leaning into her.

Hermione ducked, her body brushing his as she maneuvered away from him. "You were a rat – Ron's pet. I didn't know! I wouldn't have if I'd known you were you." She ran into the dining room.

Wormtail followed. "Are you sure about that?" He nearly grabbed hold of her robe when she tried to reach the other door. "You used to hold me against your breasts... and said I was nice." He lunged for her, and Hermione slipped around the table.

She darted right and he matched her. She darted left, then right again, each time matched by Wormtail.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Oh, Hermione, I like you. I want you. You would let me sit on your lap... Oh, do you have any idea how goood you smelled?" he asked, his eyes going momentarily glossy as if remembering.

My lap? He means... Oh, gods! Down there! Hermione darted to the other side of the table. "Do you honestly think I'd have held you like that, held you on my lap, if I'd known you were a man?" she asked. She tried to go around the table to the other door but he matched her movements on the opposite side of the table.

"You said you liked me – said I was sweet," he said, his smile licentious, as they sparred around the table.

"I thought you were simply a rat, a pet!" she exclaimed. "I didn't know you were a pervert!"

"I'm not, Hermione. Just give me a chance to prove it to you," he said as she darted right again, then faked a left and ran around dining table, escaping into the hall.

She tried to turn and go to the stairs, but the Rat jumped out of the other door and chased her. I cannot open potions lab or the classroom... He chased her down the hall to the back door. Wormtail finally got ahold of her robes and tried pulling her. She flung off the garment and turned around, trapped.

He smelled the fabric as he moved forward. "Oh, my sweet, Hermione, don't be afraid..."

She backed against the door and tried the doorknob. Locked! Oh gods! Severus come home – please come home... Wormtail lunged for her again, his hand latching onto her arm, causing the doorknob to turn. Hermione nearly tripped as they stumbled down the stoop and landed with a hard thud on the grass, Wormtail lying practically on top of her. Hermione kicked and scratched at him to break free as he tried to position himself better and fend off her attacks while still holding onto her. They rolled slightly, and she managed to push away from him and gain her feet. Grimmauld Place, she thought as she hastily Disapparated. She felt a searing pain ripping through her consciousness and a sudden wave of excruciating cold and fear, before everything in her mind simply went blank.

Author's Notes: