Dumbledore's unintentional blame on her made her feel even worse. She nearly missed the rest of what he was saying. Despite his accusation, she still could not come to believe that it had remotely anything to do with her. There was absolutely no way she could have affected him so much as to interfere with such serious matters... not the Snape she knew. Dumbledore, on the other hand, seemed to have a completely different impression of him. Whether the man he spoke of was the 'true' Snape, indeed, Hermione still wasn't sure she could handle it all.

“Dumbledore... Sir... I understand that your intentions are good, but...” She paused for a moment, collecting herself. “I just... I'm not sure if I'm the woman you want. I mean, I respect Professor Snape as a... well, individual...” It would be a lie if she had said teacher. “But I just don't know if I want to get involved in any of this. All I want is to graduate with over-achieving grades and then start my life. Yes, mistakes happened and will continue happening, but... I don't wish to dwell or feed off of them.” Since the very instant she stepped into the office, she felt extremely uncomfortable. That feeling did not dwindle one bit. She did want to help in whatever way she could, but not if it meant distracting her from her studies. That was her first priority. She felt bad for what Snape had to endure, but, really... in the end, she didn't feel it was her business. Nor did she want it to be.

"Ah, perhaps you misunderstand me, Miss Granger," Albus said. Though he felt sure the two of them would make a good romantic match, he knew they'd have to work it out themselves over time. "What I mean is that Severus will simply need a person of his intellectual level around often. I know he has already given you detention for the rest of the year for the Polyjuice Potion accident in your second year—yes, I know about that, as Headmaster I'm rather well informed—and I think you should simply make an effort, well... not to hate him quite so much as I know Mr Potter would like you to."

He smiled gently at her. "Perhaps it is over-ambitious of me to ask that you be friendly with him," he sighed. "But I believe the two of you are intellectually equal, and perhaps have many of the same professional interests." He patted her on the shoulder. "Just continue with the detentions, my dear, and we'll see how things go."

When Dumbledore put it that way, Hermione was somewhat relieved. It was difficult for her to unravel what Dumbledore truly wanted at times. She wouldn't mind giving his request a shot... but she still didn't think it would be as simple as it sounded. After all, she had been attempting to capture the attention of and impress Snape for the past six years--to no avail. She never did anything wrong in his class... so she wasn't sure what the magical right thing to do was, in order to get him to loosen up. If she was going to make it work, it would have to be a mutual thing, and as far as she was concerned... Snape still despised her. She didn't hate him, however—she never did. It was sympathy for the most part, and that was her prime incentive to agreeing to Dumbledore's request.

“Professor,” Hermione started up again with a compliant sigh. “I will be willing to try and associate with Professor Snape... however, I still cannot guarantee that anything will be accomplished by it. You are close with him, so it is a simple task from your point of view... but it's a little more difficult for me. All I can say is that I will try. It is up to Professor Snape to respond in a positive manner.” Before knowing of Dumbledore's request, Hermione really didn't know how she was going to address Snape after he awoke. Now that she had a bit of guidance, she felt a bit more stable.

Hermione was reluctant at first, but if it was the only assistance she could provide, then she would try. Not only for improving her perfect record, but because in the back of her mind... she believed Dumbledore. She was beginning to believe that deep down, Snape was quite possibly a nice fellow. If she managed to reveal that, it would in fact be very rewarding.

"Thank you, Hermione," Albus said softly. "All I ask is that you do your best. And your best," he added, turning on the twinkle, "is usually very good indeed."

He stood up. "Now," he said briskly, "it has been a very exciting evening, and I for one have not yet had dinner. I plan to adjourn to the Great Hall and partake of the usual excellent meal our house-elves put forth. Would you care to accompany me downstairs? I believe your friends Harry and Ronald will be delighted to know that you are not stuck in detention. And perhaps you can assist along the convenient story that Professor Snape was gathering potions ingredients in the Forbidden Forest, and fell foul of the Acromantulas. The truth will slowly circulate, but let's allow it to move on its own time, shall we?"

Gallantly, Albus offered Miss Granger his arm.

Hermione took the Headmaster's arm and off they were to the Great Hall.

The double doors swung open upon their arrival, and they could clearly see all the students bustling around the long tables filled to the edges with cuisine. They parted ways; Dumbledore headed over to the staff table at the opposite end of the room, while Hermione made her way down the aisle toward the Gryffindor table that her two best friends occupied. She plopped down next to Ron with a large sigh.

“Hermione...!” Ron exclaimed, his gaze following her with eyes as wide as a golden snitch “What are you doing here?! What happened to your detention with Snape?!”

Hermione faced Ron with an uneasy look. “Well, um... there was a little accident. He--”

“--Oh, bloody hell, not again!” Ron started, not realizing how obnoxious it was.

“No! No...” Hermione shook her head with a scrunched face directed toward the table. “Nothing like that... what I meant, was, he got into an accident...” She looked back up at the red-head. “He was gathering ingredients in the forest and apparently the Acromantulas got to him. I think we all know how dangerous that can be...” She exchanged glances between the two, reminding them of their past experience.

Harry cleared his throat. “That doesn't sound like Snape... he is much too powerful a wizard to be threatened by any creatures in the forest. Perhaps they lied to you... they might be hiding something.”

If only Harry knew how ironic his statement was. It was, however, consoling to know that he believed her own lie for once.

“Well, whatever happened... it doesn't concern us.” With that, Hermione turned to the meal in front of her and began eating, hoping Harry would ignore the topic.

As usual, that was wishful thinking.

“No... what if it's something relating to Voldemort? In case you haven't realized, that does concern us!”

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed as she let her hands drop onto the table. “Harry, let it go! Not everything has to be related to Voldemort... you're never going to live a normal life if you're consistently paranoid!”

“Paranoid?” Harry asked. “I am not paranoid. I'm aware. I know he's out there, so I need to be ready. If Snape has information... then I want to hear it.” Harry demanded, suddenly searching the room for said Professor.

“He's not here.” Hermione said matter-of-factly. “And you are being ridiculous. Maybe you should consider placing other peoples' feelings first before your own prejudice.” With that, Hermione hastily stuffed a few spoons of food into her mouth like a chipmunk, before rising and fleeing the room.

Harry and Ron both eyed her receding back, the most confused expressions on their faces.

“Since when did she start defending the old bat? Ron asked.

Albus watched with great interest as Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley proceeded to interrogate, and then clearly antagonize, Miss Granger. He didn't need Extendable Ears to hear what they were saying; many years ago he had learned to lip-read, and was now quite good at it. He chuckled softly into his butterbeer as Miss Granger left in a huff. So, she thought she wasn't the person to keep Severus company, and yet became extremely defensive about him? She'd soon have to re-examine her feelings, and Albus hoped the process wouldn't be too unpleasant or embarrassing.

---

Severus awoke, pleasantly surprised to find that he was still alive. He had none of those "where am I?" moments; his brain had long since trained itself to take in his surroundings upon waking and make sense of what he saw, heard, and smelled. He was obviously in the infirmary: he could smell PepperUp Potion, burn salves, and other remedies, and could hear Poppy humming cheerfully as she went about her business.

Cautiously, Severus sent tendrils of inquiry down each of his limbs, relieved to discover that nothing was broken. His ribs were sore and tender, and his head ached abominably. He still felt jittery—probably the remnants of the Cruciatus. He flexed fingers, then toes, then wiggled his feet and his wrists. He tensed his abdominal muscles and felt an enormous pang of hunger. That was good.

"Poppy?" he called. He was apalled to hear how cracked and tired his voice sounded.

There were brisk footsteps, and then Poppy's round, cheerful face appeared. "Good, you're awake. I want you to take some Dreamless Sleep, Severus, and—" She broke off, because Severus had grabbed her wrist.

"Albus. Please, get Albus."

"No need," said Albus' voice. "Poppy, will you allow Severus a few minutes of consciousness to talk to me?"

Poppy glared, but backed away. "Five minutes."

"Thank you, my dear," Albus said. He turned to Severus. "Am I to understand that you, ah, blew your cover?"

"I had to, Albus," Severus croaked. "He—You know he's a Legilimens, of course, and I was trying to feed him the right information. It was all going well until..."

"Until?" prompted Albus.

Would Albus make him say it? "Until he discovered my memories of... of last night's accident."

Albus made a noise of understanding. "And you blocked him instinctively, and he realized that you had probably been blocking much more from him in the past."

Severus nodded, grateful that he wouldn't have to actually say it.

"Well," said Albus briskly, putting his hands on his knees and standing up, "that's that. We don't have a spy in Voldemort's inner circle anymore, but perhaps one of our other informants can move inward and take your place. Of course, no one we have is as superb an Occlumens as yourself, but there are other ways."

"I'm sorry," Severus whispered. To his embarrassed horror, he felt a tear leak out of his eyes. "It was... foolish of me."

"Foolish of you to protect a student? Not at all. The students here are the hope of our future. We rely on them far more than they will ever know. If Voldemort had found out about—" Albus broke off, eyeing the looming figure of Poppy Pomfrey. "Well, perhaps I shall simply leave it at that."

How much did Albus know, or suspect? Severus didn't know much himself, just that he hadn't wanted Voldemort to see— "I am still a man, Headmaster," Severus said peevishly. "I masturbate, after all, and there are not that many females of my own age to fantasize about. Sometimes I must make do with the material my daily life supplies."

Albus raised his eyebrows. "Indeed," was all he said. "We'll leave it there, then, as Poppy wishes to drug you into unconsciousness now. Oh, and you'll be teaching tomorrow morning. Miss Granger is spreading the rumor that you were attacked by Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest, and that Hagrid had to help rescue you. I think that's the safest reason to spread around for now."

No one would believe that for very long, Severus thought angrily.

Albus was nearly out the door when he called, "Oh, and you're to continue detentions with Miss Granger. Goodnight."

Severus would have responded angrily, but Poppy was forcing a measure of Dreamless Sleep at him, and Severus obediently swallowed. In an instant, he had slipped into the comforting darkness of unconsciousness.

Hermione felt like a mess. She collapsed, face down, on the common room sofa the instant she entered through the doorway. Words could not express how awful she felt about lying so much to her friends. For an instant, she even considered just telling them the truth... after all, they were far more important to her than the potions master. When she pondered it some more, however, Dumbledore's face popped up in her mind and she doubted the option. During their conversation, for some reason Hermione felt like she really understood Dumbledore's sincerity and affection for the man. Because of that, it was her natural duty not to disappoint him.

Knowing that Harry and Ron would probably come back to the common room shortly, Hermione rose from her position and retreated to her own dormitory. The last thing she wanted was to be around when they returned. It was hard enough keeping the secrets from them; when she actually faced them, the difficulty increased tenfold.

When Hermione opened her closet to retrieve a change of clothes, she suddenly spotted Snape's robe that he lent her. Feeling something clench within her, she quickly grabbed what she needed and then shut the closet door.

She got changed into her sleepwear, and since she had a couple hours before her usual bed time, she took out one of her Charms text books and sat in her bed reading. Due to all the recent events, she hadn't had any time to really study... so she felt behind. Another thing to add to her list of rotten feelings.

Severus woke abruptly. Dreamless Sleep potion was like that, simply turning off after it had worn out, leaving the drinker very much awake, and not necessary feeling properly rested. But he was alert, and his mind was working clearly. The light in the infirmary told him it was early morning, and the presence of small noises in the corridor outside made him think it was just before breakfast.

With a groan, he pushed himself to a sitting position. Madam Pomfrey wasn't around to tell him otherwise, so he slowly swung his feet around and stood up, feeling the cold stone floor through his thin socks. He'd been changed into clean robes, so at least he wouldn't have to go back to his rooms in the horrid hospital pajamas Poppy provided, but he couldn't see his boots anywhere. His wand was on the table, though, so he picked it up and tried to summon them.

It didn't work. He tried again, this time using verbal magic. "Accio!" No luck. And he knew it wasn't just because they weren't there; usually when a spell failed because the object was inaccessible, one at least felt the spell working. Now, though, he felt nothing.

"Severus!" called a shocked voice.

It was Poppy, hurrying towards him.

"You're not trying to do magic yet, are you?" she said worriedly.

"I need shoes," Severus pointed out. "And summoning my boots seemed the fastest way."

"Well, as you clearly noticed, your magic isn't working yet," Poppy said acidly. "Nor will it again, unless you allow yourself some rest. I don't know what the Headmaster is thinking, having you teach today, and as I can't very well disobey him I'll have to let you. But the Cruciatus Curse really did a number on you, Severus, and you'll need a day or two to fully recover. If you try to push your magic right now it'll start going off in the wrong pathways and wind up bottling itself up, and you know how horrible that can be, you've seen it before, haven't you—"

"Shoes, please, Poppy," Severus interrupted calmly.

"I know I do go on at times but really, Severus, what am I to do with all that happens around here? It's only the third day of classes, and there's been Miss Granger, of course, and then poor Colin Creevey got a gobstone up his—well, patient privacy, I'm not supposed to talk. And now you!" While she was ranting, Poppy used her own wand to silently summon Severus' well-worn and dirtied boots from a cupboard by the door.

"You're not to do any magic today, do you hear me?" she continued as Severus sat to put on his boots. "No Lumos, no summoning, nothing. Not even the smallest thing. You'll have to keep an eye out, especially in class. If you want my advice, which you don't, but I'll give it anyway because sometimes I do have good ideas, you should get one of the better students to take over classroom management, preventing disasters in the lower forms, until I'm sure you can use magic again safely. You know what happens when a person's magic goes off half-cocked—"

"Yes, Poppy, I know," Severus said repressively. There was only one way to shut her up, and that was to agree with her. And he had to admit, it wasn't a bad idea. "Thank you for the suggestions, it's a very good one. And thank you, as always, for saving my life."

Poppy sniffed, but not disagreeably. "I'm only doing my job, and you know it."

With a polite but stiff bow, Severus left the Hospital Wing and headed straight to his dungeons, thinking about Poppy's suggestion of getting a helper for the next few days. Not thinking hard—there was only one student he could really trust to that role—but thinking of whether he could bear to have her constant company.

Well, yes, he could bear it. In fact, he suspected he could more than bear it, as long as she kept her mouth shut and just allowed him to look at her.

With that in mind, Severus made an abrupt U-turn and headed for the Great Hall, where he knew Granger would eventually show up.

Hermione was woken by the warm light beaming in through the long, arched windows. Her eyes fluttered open and forcefully she lifted her torso up, feeling a sudden dead weight shift from her chest. Apparently she had fallen asleep while in the midst of reading. Placing the book aside on the small table next to her bed, she shuffled out of bed and approached her closet.

Again, the robe flaunted itself to her. That time, though, it served as a reminder. She took the black garment off of the hanger and stuffed it into her book bag, with hopes to return it to Snape that day. Then maybe it could finally stop intruding her personal space and mind.

Hermione then washed and dressed herself up as usual. Surprisingly, there hadn't been any sign of Harry or Ron in the common room that morning. Hermione had to wonder where they were, but she considered perhaps they headed down to breakfast early. If that was the case, though, she wasn't sure she would want to attend breakfast at all. Then again... she still had to share Potions class with them directly afterwards, which wasn't much of an improvement.

When Hermione reached the Great Hall on the main floor below, she peeked in through the door to discover that her suspicions had in fact been correct—Harry and Ron were sitting together at the table. With a groan, Hermione seriously contemplated skipping breakfast, but since she only had a couple spoonfuls of food the night before, she was quite hungry. Her decision made up, she made her way to the table, however sat down a few bodies away from her friends. She was so preoccupied with her focus on Harry and Ron that she had been completely oblivious to Snape's presence in the room.

Severus had been chewing his way slowly through several slices of toast without really paying attention to what he was eating. Potter and Weasley had arrived early in the breakfast hour, put their heads together, and appeared to be plotting something. Damn Dobby, he thought. Whatever the house-elf had said, it probably hadn't helped either him or Miss Granger.

A little later he finally saw Hermione Granger arrive, looking as though she hadn't slept wel at all. Though she had obviously made an effort to look normal, he could tell that something about her was strained, was off.

Time to perform, Severus decided, and scraped his chair back from the table. He made his way down to the Gryffindor table with measured strides, not just to hide the exhaustion and pain he felt, but also to appear completely normal and nonchalant. He was, he knew, very good at acting normal. He wouldn't have survived several years as Dumbledore's spy were he not.

"Miss Granger," he said, when he arrived at the table. "Good morning. I am glad to see that you have recovered from the accident the other day." It was best, he had decided, simply to acknowledge that something had happened, and let the specifics remain vague. Potions accidents were extremely common, especially with the current lot of dunderheads in each class.

"I have a favor to ask of you," Severus then added smoothly. "No doubt you heard of the problem yesterday with Acromantulas." He let his mouth twist into a sneer. "The encounter has left me requiring an assistant in my lower form classes, and Headmaster Dumbledore naturally suggested you. You would, of course, be excused from your classes for the day."

In the half-hour he'd had of chewing absently on toast and drinking Hogwarts' abysmal coffee, Severus had decided to no longer scuttle around the Hermione Granger thing. Yes, an accident had happened. Yes, she was in detention for a heinous crime that the curious would have to ask the Headmaster about, but he would let slip that it involved an illegal potion. And yes, of course she was the best witch Hogwarts had seen since Tom Riddle, and naturally she would be the best choice for a Disaster Prevention assistant.

Yes, Severus would admit to himself, he had liked Miss Granger's bottom very much, and yes, he wouldn't mind getting to know it better. But he'd have to wait until she wasn't a student to try to seduce her.

Severus had nearly choked on coffee at that thought, when it had come to him early in his breakfast time. Him, seducing someone? That was about as likely as Albus deciding to marry a woman, or Hagrid announcing that he was becoming a fashion designer. But he'd never wanted anyone as much as this. The fantasies, even just the one night of them, had taken such a deep root—and the instinctive desire he'd had to keep her from the Dark Lord's knowledge—this was a challenge, and he never backed down from challenges.

Goal For The Year, Severus imagined scribbling in his personal notes: get Hermione Granger into bed with me once she is no longer a student.

He looked down at the trio of Gryffindors and awaited her reply.

Hermione nearly jumped out of her seat when she heard a sudden familiar deep, monotonous voice emerge from behind. Her body shifted and head spun around to face the man looming over her. She was surprised to see him. From what she could visibly see, he appeared to have recovered well—not to mention, the fact that he decided to attend breakfast that morning was another obvious sign. She hadn't expected he would, which was why she didn't even bother looking for him.

She had many questions that she wished to ask him, but politely listened to his request first. It was a request she was surprised to hear coming from him, but at the same time it was an opportunity in her favour. Dumbledore wanted her to become more acquainted with her Professor and show him that there is more to life than hating everyone. If she was going to be serving as his assistant for the day, she could not ask for a better chance. Although she cringed at the idea of 'skipping' classes, it was the start of the year so most of the material taught were things she got a head start on. One day wouldn't cause her to miss out on much.

Forcing a smile onto her lips, Hermione nodded at the tall, dark teacher. “Of course, Professor. Anything to help.”

((I realize I'm painting Severus as a bit of a manipulative git, but I often see him that way! Also, have Hermione and Ron been dating??))

---

"Thank you, Miss Granger," Severus said, then added artlessly, "Dumbledore made it clear to me that you were the only choice for this job. Please join me as soon as you have finished eating." With that, he set off not too quickly down the table, out towards the entrance hall and to his classroom.

How best to beguile a girl whose only experiences had been with Viktor Krum and Ronald Weasley, and perhaps Harry Potter? She would have only the most fleeting acquaintance with sensuality, he thought, and may probably have read some of the awful so-called "romance" novels that were merely fodder for teenage titillation. How much subtlety would she recognize? Would she think he was courting her, or understand that his impetus was purely physical? How to pace himself so that, by the end of the year, she was willing to come to his bed, and understand that he made no emotional promises?

With a smile that would have rather frightened Miss Granger had she seen it, Severus opened the door to his classroom and began setting up for the day.

((No, that was not my intention up to this point, otherwise certain scenes would have occurred much differently. However, if you wish to include something of the like, we could realistically say Ron has a crush on her?))

---

Hermione's eyes had been too busy stalking the potions master's departing figure that she had not noticed Ron shoving Neville aside and claiming the seat next to her.

“Hermione...” Ron muttered, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. The gesture made Hermione snap out of her fixation and turn her head toward the boy. The expression on his face told her that he didn't even have to question.

“Don't worry, Ron.” Hermione told him with a false smile. “Due to Professor Snape's incident with the Acromantulas,” she had to include that reference for effect, “he will just be needing a little assistance today because of it. He came to ask me since, as you know, I'm... well, the most accomplished.” It wasn't her intention to gloat, it was simply a well-known fact.

Convincing Ron was a lot easier opposed to Harry. Harry was stubborn, whereas Ron was lazy. He would believe whichever side involved the least stress and hassle.

“Alright, Hermione... I trust you. But that's more than I can say for Harry. I don't know how easy he'll be willing to give up this time.” Ron mentioned, his face drooping a bit like a puppy. He didn't like it when the three of them had opposite views on things. Neither did Hermione, for that matter. But there were times when discretion was truly necessary.

Ron returned to his spot next to Harry, due to his loyalty to his best friend, and Hermione took her time to finish her meal. Once she did indeed finish, she grabbed her book bag and left the Great Hall.

In regards to Snape's orders, Hermione's set destination after breakfast was to the Dungeons. She jaunted down to the secluded, eerie maze and approached the potions classroom. Upon arrival, she knocked three times on the large door, glad to see that it was back to its normal, sealed self.

((Shall we say that their next potions class with the seventh years is "tomorrow"? And remember that the other students are supposed to be tending to their polyjuice potion off-hours as well. We can totally have another student walk in on them at some point. :D Also, I'm generally on and off all day, now that Anime Expo is over, so if you want to set up a time to be online together so we can do a conversation or other scene :winkwink nudgenudge: just let me know.))

---

"Enter," Severus called upon hearing the knock. Good, Miss Granger was punctual. He would set her to work setting up the cauldrons, as he had first-years this morning who still couldn't start a fire. Mostly, though, and it pained him to admit it, he'd need her help keeping the roof from exploding. There was a girl, in Ravenclaw of all things, who had Potions skills worse than Longbottom. Even Severus had been stymied a few times to figure out exactly what she had done wrong. He knew that, no matter how much supervision he provided for this class, something horrible would go wrong, so Hermione Granger's skills would no doubt be hard tested.

((Well, I work from 10-3 during the week (and I'm 3 hours ahead of you), so I'll be available any time after that.))

---

Hermione entered the room as directed, shutting the door back in its place behind her. When she turned to face her Professor, the uneasiness returned initially; but then she reflected on her duty and the uneasiness transitioned into confidence. Her body reacted to this by straightening up and painting a bold expression on her face.

With great exaggeration, Hermione strode directly toward Snape's desk that he occupied.

“Hello, Professor.” She greeted with unusual enthusiasm. “How are you feeling after your... 'accident'?” For once, she felt almost equal to the man. Before, she was the one who had experienced a humiliating incident, and now it had been his turn. Knowing that, she held somewhat of an advantage.

Severus glared with as much hostile intent as he could muster at Miss Granger, and, had he not been prohibited from doing magic, would have cast an unpleasant and humiliating jinx on her right then and there. In the split second he had during which to decide his response, he thought of simply sending her away and managing on his own, or answering with blunt factualness about what had truly happened, or even simply confessing to her that the only reason she was there was because Albus Dumbledore was trying to matchmake.

"As you can see," he replied, "I am doing well considering the extent of the magical damage I suffered. Undoubtedly you have read numerous texts on the aftereffects of Acromantula venom, and can witness that I show none of them."

Why did she have to be so bloody perky?

“Of course,” she cheekily agreed, “Even more of a reason why you need me.” She placed a strong emphasis on the 'need'. If it hadn't been for Dumbledore, Hermione would never dare act so sassy toward the man, but considering it was all Dumbledore's insinuation, he pulled the strings—not Snape. It was an opportunity and feeling she most enjoyed.

“Oh! I almost forgot--” Quickly, she reached into her book bag and took out a ruffled black piece of material. “I do believe this is yours.” She said, handing it to the man.

Severus slowly took the robe, feeling an odd panic building up from his small intestine through his heart. When it reached his throat, he found himself lunging at Hermione, with no regard for the pain of the sudden movement. He gripped her, hard, by the shoulders and locked his eyes against hers.

"How many people saw this?" he hissed angrily. "How many, girl?"

It was bad enough that Albus was having a good joke at his expense, and that Poppy had probably already figured everything out; but they were staff, understanding of Severus' temper and inclinations. They might tease or taunt him, but knew better than to spread any kind of gossip or rumor, however tempting. Poppy was far too professional a mediwitch for that, with patient confidentiality drilled into her from early training, and Albus too good a tactician. But if Hermione had been seen by any students with his robes, whether on her or simply carrying them, rumors would fly, no matter how clever a reason she came up with for her possession of them.

Severus didn't care if she was frightened, didn't care that his breath was coming in ragged gasps — it felt as though he might have re-broken his ribs with that incautious movement. (Poppy was good, and Skele-Gro quite fast, but even magic has its limits.) He needed the truth from her, and if he could not get it through intimidation, he might very well resort to Veritaserum.

Hermione was instantly taken aback by Snape's sudden violent gesture. Never has he ever resorted to any type of physical threats with her, so she was rather shocked—to say the least.

Wincing from the pain digging into her shoulder, she quickly responded, “U-Um... I don't know... Harry and Ron are the only two I know of for sure...”

It puzzled her how she made him go off like that. If he really wanted to ensure nobody saw it, she would rather he just didn't give it to her in the first place. The pain and hostile tendencies were something she could most certainly do without.

Her faltering didn't last much longer, however, as self-defence took its place. All she had to remember was Dumbledore.

With a deep crease in her brows, she pushed as forward as she could against his pressure on her shoulders with little help by placing her hand on his chest. “Please, Professor! This seriously isn't necessary.” She exclaimed, further adding “I mean, really... do you want to return to Madam Pomfrey?” Her eyes locked with his as she fought a smug look.

Potter and Weasley? Severus shook his head. "Those two," he growled. Anything Weasley heard would soon be passed to the other Weasleys, and if Potter knew something he'd undoubtedly tell Ginny Weasley, who if he remembered correctly was also Hermione's friend...

"You fool," he said again, over her objections to his manhandling. He didn't release her and continued angrily, "Do you really want your name linked with mine? Do you know what sort of rumors will fly—a student borrowing a professor's robes? No matter what sort of clever excuse you come up with, even the truth, soon everyone will think that you were naked in my presence."

Not that he'd've minded her being naked. He just didn't want the whole school to know.

“Professor,” Hermione proceeded to argue from under his grasp. “I trust Harry and Ron with my life. They may be hard-headed... but they won't be disloyal.” Although she did in fact have some doubt about Ron's mouth, she wasn't about to admit it. “Besides, if per chance rumours do carry 'round... we can just place memory charms on everyone.” She suggested, as if it were easier than conjuring a cake.

“Now, will you please stop straining yourself? My job here is to assist you, and quite frankly... I don't think I could carry you up to Madam Pomfrey's all by myself.”

Place Memory Charms on everyone?

At that, Severus found himself laughing, a touch hysterically. He let go of Hermione, finally, and, still wheezing with laughter, leaned against a table for support.

"Memory... Charms... on.... everyone..." he gasped. With a deep breath he regained control of himself. "You, girl, have no idea what danger you might be placing yourself in."

He breathed in deeply again, feeling his ribs twinge. "As for Madam Pomfrey's assistance, it's merely a broken rib. I can visit her during the lunch hour. In any case," he said, "whatever damage has been done cannot now be reversed. If Draco Malfoy saw you with that robe, he will pass the information on to his father, who will now assume that you are a tool to get to me. And considering my place with the Dark Lord, after last night, I would not envy you." He strung out the last words, trying to get into her thick Gryffindor head the truth of her situation.

Hermione sighed with relief after he finally released her. She didn't take his hysterical reaction very well, but she had been willing to say anything to get him to calm down and stop trying to compress her.

Placing her hands on her hips, she frowned angrily at the man. “That won't be the case. I can assure you nobody else saw. And if I really must... I will tell Harry and Ron the truth. That way, I can give you peace of mind that a single word will not be spread.” She didn't want to have to resort to that, but if it was the only way to make Snape shut up about it, then she would have no choice. The only reason she was returning the robe in the first place, was to move on—not to let it linger and increase the chance of formulating further issues; not to mention, haunt her mind.

"Fine," Severus snapped. "On your head be it."

He moved gingerly back up to his desk. "Now," he said, pulling his lesson plan forward. "This morning's first session is with the first-years. I will need you to light fires under their cauldrons before they arrive. They'll be preparing a simple Sleeping Draught. Your job will be to prevent disaster, nothing more, nothing less. You are not to consider yourself free to roam around helping the students. You are not to interfere with my teaching. You will simply stand by, ready to perform magic if—no, when—it is needed."

With his orders given, Severus sat down. His ribs really did hurt abonimably; however, he did not regret his actions. If Miss Granger was going to be so close and friendly with him, she needed to know the perils of his acquaintanceship.

“Certainly.” was all Hermione responded with, because she knew anything more she said would probably just get him mauling her again. With that in mind, she obediently fulfilled his instructions by taking out her wand and waving it through the air. In the next moment, each desk post comprised of a small-sized cauldron and a live, burning flame underneath.

She started on her way toward the ingredients cabinet in order to take out the necessary ingredients and supply each desk with them for easy convenience as well, but a certain memory stopped her when she neared. Biting her lip, she forced the image out of her mind and quickly whipped all the materials onto each desk in one dramatic sweep.

“Alright, all good to go.” Hermione declared as she hastily turned heel and marched back to the side of Snape's desk.