Nomen Est Omen

Get out. He needed to get out of this hall. Beneath his composed surface, the world of Severus Snape was in an uproar.

"I thank you for your interesting report, Draco, but you must excuse me now," he declared, keeping his voice bare of any emotions. "I have already overstayed my time at this celebration and I have urgent matters at hand in the dungeons. Good night, son."

Without awaiting the young man's response, the Potions master turned on his heels, finally leaving the Great Hall in a rush and heading for his quarters. Not even Albus Dumbledore would have been able to stop him now.

"Urgent matters, indeed," Draco chuckled quietly to himself. A rapturous smile graced his aristocratic features when he spotted a gorgeous Ravenclaw girl in the crowd.

"Time to conquer new territories, it seems."

And while his bewildered godfather was on his way to the dungeons, the young Slytherin was already heading to capture a second glass of punch, seizing the night.

***

"Damn you, Ronald Weasley! You and your big mouth," Hermione shouted angrily at the empty room, her clutch hitting the wardrobe with a dull smack. The witch had flung herself on the bed in her Head Girl's room, desperately seeking to calm her nerves.

"Phew! That was good, Crooks," she confessed sadly to the Kneazle, who snuggled in her lap and was trying to comfort his mistress with his mollifying purr.

What a hell of an evening. Nothing had gone as she had planned it.

Since the headmaster...in all his wisdom...had decided last week to burden her with that dance with a certain Potions master, Hermione had tried to brace herself for the inevitable event.

Not that she feared the man; quite the contrary. During her work for the Order, Hermione had been forced to develop her own ways to counter his nasty moods and that unforgiving wit, but in the process of dealing with the ill-tempered wizard, she had also developed a rather unreasonable attachment for Severus Snape.

And while she had concealed it successfully from her friends as well as from the Potions master himself in their daily routine, she had been worried that her hard achieved facade of indifference would crumble in front of the observant spy while they shared something as intimate as a dance.

Her mind had told her from the first moment that wishing for this event to lead to something more than bruised pride was a lost cause. Therefore, the only task she had set herself for tonight was to master this terrible temptation with a certain amount of dignity. Well, not that it had helped.

"But everything has gone so smoothly for a while," she sighed, hugging the orange fur ball next to her.

My dear Miss Granger. Her lips turned into a small smile at the memory of his voice.

Despite her underlying concerns and the continued protest from her inner voice of reason, Hermione had not been able to resist flirting mildly, savouring the feeling of his arms holding her. Just a lovely memory of a silly schoolgirl crush, she had fooled herself during the dance. And a lovely memory it would have been.

"But just count on Ronald Weasley to blow it all." A mix of laughter and sobbing escaped her. Not only had he ruined the moment with his crude interference, but within her enraged outburst at Ron's unforgivable words, Hermione had unconsciously revealed something that she had not dared to admit even to herself before: her supposedly negligible attachment to the aloof Potions master had become rather serious, against her better judgment.

"Oh, Crooks, where do I go from here?" She was at a loss. For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger had no answer to a rather simple question.

***

The young witch was still sitting on her bed, deeply wrapped in her own thoughts, when somebody knocked.

"I told you to leave me alone, Ronald Weasley," she called threateningly through the closed door. She would hex him into next week if he dared to show up.

"It's me, 'Mione. Ginny. May I come in?" The soft voice of Ginny Weasley drifted through the wood.

"Only if your prat of a brother stays out. Please see to that, Gin." Hermione blew her nose, still slightly sniffling, when the youngest Weasley slipped into her room.

"Hey." She greeted her redheaded friend weakly.

"Hey. Harry sends his love and says I should tell you that my brother is a troll. I quite agree with him." Ginny told her carefully, testing the ground.

"Thank you." Hermione gave a wobbly smile as her friend sat down next to her, laying one comforting arm around her shoulders.

"I have made a complete fool of myself tonight, you know," she confessed quietly, wiping a last stubborn tear from her cheek.

"Oh, really? Well, that makes me the dunderhead who thought you looked drop-dead gorgeous while you were dancing with our sullen old Potions professor." Ginny grinned at her whimsically, causing Hermione to snort in protest. The youngest Weasley sighed quietly at that reaction, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and gazing at her solemnly.

"Okay, 'Mione, to tell you the truth, you two appeared rather... err... smitten with each other. That's why Ron got so upset."

"We were just dancing, Gin. One ridiculous dance," Hermione exclaimed, an incredulous look on her face.

The one and only dance I will ever get. The thought hurt and infuriated her at the same time.

"But that was not what I meant, Gin, and you know it." The witch closed her eyes, regretful at the reminder of her genuine confession, while the other Gryffindor simply rubbed her back in a compassionate gesture.

"Look 'Mione, this is your graduation night. You shouldn't be sitting here upstairs just because... just because my brother has the emotional range of a teaspoon. And don't let yourself be bothered by what the others might think. Honestly, I don't believe that anyone gives it a second thought. They all took it for what it was, an attempt to hurt the pride of my sorry excuse for a brother," she told her sincerely.

If you only knew, Gin.

Hermione was well aware that she should reply to her friend's attempt to ease her worries, should agree with Ginny on the point, but she found herself unable to speak.

"Or was it not?"

"Well...."

Oh my, say something, Granger.

"Yes... yes certainly it was." It was a lame lie, and she was sure it wouldn't do the trick. She stared guiltily at the floor, escaping Ginny's knowing look.

Moments of silence passed between them, which Hermione spent chewing on her bottom lip and dwelling on her friend's reasoning. It wouldn't do to sit around musing over the irresolvable what ifs in her life. From tomorrow on, there was a whole new world to conquer.

"You are right, Gin," she said eventually, "I really shouldn't hide here for the rest of the evening. Wait a second and I'll be ready to go down with you again."

The youngest Weasley gave her a satisfied grin as Hermione rose from the bed and vanished into the bathroom, her mind still coercing her heart to agree with this decision.

***

Less than ten minutes later both witches were heading down the stairs to the Entrance Hall. Though as the door of the Great Hall came into sight, Hermione stopped in her tracks, her earlier determination faltering again.

Would he still be there?

"Aren't you coming, 'Mione?"

"I... I can't. I think I need to catch a breath of fresh air before I can deal with your brother again."

And before I can face him for one last time.

Professor Snape... Severus... No name appeared appropriate for the man right now, not even in her mind.

"I will be with you in a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay, see you in the Great Hall in a few minutes then," Ginny agreed reluctantly, giving her a last worried look before heading for the ball again.

Neither noticed the dark shadow that followed Hermione Granger as she slipped through the front door of the castle.

***

Some time earlier, down in the dungeons of Hogwarts, a still bewildered Potions master sat in one of his armchairs, desperately trying to ease his mind as he pensively regarded the glass of brandy in his right hand. His mind had been circling around one single question for quite some time now.

What has come over me?

Severus had lost his usual controlled collectedness twice in one evening: first by displaying his ridiculous infatuation with the Gryffindor witch openly in front of the assembled student body, and then losing it completely when Draco had revealed the content of her argument with Weasley to him. Her words had shaken him to the core.

The most brave and honourable man she had ever met. He took a sip of his brandy, shaking his head in disbelief.

You are a quite foolish Gryffindor, my dear Miss Granger.

Not to mention that other ridiculous comment. He was still frowning at himself for even allowing the thought to enter his mind again when a knock on his door interrupted him in his sanctuary. The Head of Slytherin closed his eyes in an attempt to ignore the undesirable visitor. A second knock smashed his hope of being left alone.

"Go away, Albus!" he called knowingly.

"Severus, my boy, I had hoped to find you here," the headmaster greeted him cheerfully as he opened the door. "Ah, celebrating a little bit in private, I see."

"Stating the obvious as ever, my friend," Severus replied sarcastically, raising his glass to welcome his unwelcome guest.

"Don't worry, son. I will leave you to your brandy again in a few seconds. I just wanted to ask you for some hangover potion for Minerva. Our dear Transfiguration teacher is not taking it well, seeing this year of students leave, it seems." The perpetual twinkling left Dumbledore's eyes as he spoke.

"Yes, that was quite obvious at the graduation celebration. This year of dunderheads was quite special to all of us, Albus," Severus agreed thoughtfully.

Moments of shared silence passed while the younger wizard sat forward in his armchair with his elbows resting on his knees, absently regarding the glossy chestnut-brown colour of the liquid in his hand again. It took an affectionate pat on his shoulder to draw him back to reality.

"I apologize, Albus. Please sit down. I'll go and fetch the hangover potion for Minerva. It will take just a minute." The Potions master was already heading for his potions store as he spoke, the amused gaze of Albus Dumbledore following him on his way.

A few minutes later, the Head of Slytherin returned with two bottles in his hands, passing them over to his mentor.

"The blue-labelled one is the hangover potion and the green-labelled one is a pacifier combined with a small dose of Dreamless Sleep, just in case. Make sure that she doesn't take more than a tablespoonful of each of them," he explained the concoctions in his best classroom manner.

"Thank you, Severus. Cautious as ever, you are," the Headmaster said as he tucked the bottles away in the pockets of his sparkling blue robes.

"You are welcome, Albus," the former spy replied, unspoken fondness swaying in his voice as he watched the elderly wizard heading towards the door. Hell, he needed to do something about this Granger problem; he'd started to sound like a sentimental fool himself already.

"Oh, just one thing more, Severus," the Headmaster of Hogwarts added as he was about to close the door. "Now that you are finally free to enjoy your life, don't deny yourself what you need the most: to be loved. You are a more brave and honourable and, I may add, a more loving man than you admit to yourself, son. Maybe you have just to refresh your memory a bit."

Before Severus even realized it, Dumbledore had closed the door, leaving his Potions master alone in the dungeons again.

"Damn you, Albus! You and your foolish meddling!" he growled angrily, and his glass of brandy hit the wall with a loud crack. It infuriated him beyond measure each time the man did something like that. The wizard groaned, already aware of his dawning headache.

So much for my peace of mind.

Severus closed his eyes as leaned against the ledge of his fireplace, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Refresh your memory.... What are you trying to tell me, old man?

The Headmaster's words had immediately summoned a kaleidoscope of different memories of the Gryffindor witch to the front of his mind, just a myriad of mediocre episodes.

Granger arguing with Moody in his favour during an Order meeting.... Her small hand touching his shoulder to get his attention as she handed him a cup of tea.... Granger mending Potter's scratches while she wormed information necessary to him out of the boy.... The terror in her eyes during the Death Eater attack in Hogsmeade.... The honest relief on her face as they met in the hospital wing after the final battle....

Certainly, they had interacted as equals, fighting the same evil and experiencing the same fears as all members of the Order. It was the nature of war that it dissolved even long-established boundaries like the ones between student and teacher.

And in these last tiring months the Potions master had learned to value the rational mind and the ardent dedication the witch had displayed, keeping her foolish friends at bay, focussing Potter on his task at hand. She had been his reliable constant amidst the chaos, somehow always at his side when he had needed a helping hand, a balanced opinion or just a silent companion while he composed himself in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place after returning from one of those dreadful Death Eater gatherings.

Why did you do that, Granger?

Oblivious to the fact that he had started to pace back and forth in his living room, Severus was urging his mind to find an answer to this question.

Yes, he had taken her presence as given at that time, just seeing to her safety if necessary and keeping his usual formal distance, even during that fateful incident in Hogsmeade that had nearly cost him his life. And after the final battle he had easily slipped into his teacher role again. It had been an indescribable comfort for him to pick up with this part of his life where he had left it, while everything else was crumbling around him.

But tonight...

He sighed. Well, tonight it was as if he had seen the woman she had become during the war for the first time, and it had taken just one dance and a few words for this woman to open the floodgates of his soul after all those miserable years, making him feel truly alive again.

Why can you do that, Granger?

He stopped in his tracks. Damn, there had to be a reason why she had affected him like this. As much as it jibed him, Severus suddenly knew with a breathtaking clarity that he had to confront the object of his confusion if he wanted answers to his questions...and he needed answers, since his whole being was surrendering to the foreign and irritating sensation he had experienced during their dance. Determined to end this inconvenience for his peace of mind, the Head of Slytherin left his quarters in quite a hurry.

He passed through the hallways of the dungeons as fast as he could, ignoring a rather confused Bloody Baron, who had tried to start a conversation with his Head of House, but the Potions master didn't care.

The wizard reached the Entrance Hall just in time to observe an upset-looking Ronald Weasley secretly follow a young woman on her way through the front door of the castle.

Hermione.

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