Standard Disclaimer goes here.

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to get this up. I've been sick as well as working and it's always harder to write the bridge chapters. *sigh* This chapter is supposed to have a lot of things set up in it that we'll see come to fruition later, so bear with me if it seems not as exciting as other chapters. The next chapter or two will make up for the lack of action, I promise! That said, as always, I'd like to offer my humblest gratitude to everyone who reads and reviews and makes me happy, and my undying thanks to Horserider, Laela, and SnivellusSnape for their help and feedback! You guys make all the difference! And now, moving forward...

Chapter 19 - Anticipation
Hermione was on her way back into the castle from the owlery when she heard shouts behind her. She turned to see Ginny, Ron, and Harry jogging after her, windblown and sweaty from their practice. She paused long enough for them to catch up and they walked into the Entrance Hall together.

“How was practice?” she asked them politely.

The other three exchanged pleased glances before turning back to Hermione. Ginny spoke up. “It went really well! We’ve managed to find a rhythm within the team since we’ve been together for a while now.” Then her face screwed up into a moue of dissatisfaction. “That’s why next year is going to be horrible! After you all leave, we’ll have to find a new Keeper and Seeker, and nobody can be as good as Harry.”

Ron buffeted Ginny, demanding, “Hey! What am I? Chopped shrivelfig?” Harry suppressed a smug grin and looked away modestly.

Ginny glared at Ron as she punched him back. “Well! Honestly, Ron, you know you weren’t very good when you started. You’ve got a lot better, but… Harry’s just a natural, you know?”

Ron shot a scowl at Harry, who attempted a look of wide-eyed innocence as he shrugged elaborately. Hermione laughed aloud at their by-play. Ron muttered, “Some best friend… my own sister likes him better… and now my other best friend is laughing at me…”

Hermione flung an arm around Ron’s hunched shoulders and gave him a sympathetic look. “Aw, Ron, I wasn’t laughing at you, just in your general direction.” Ron wrinkled his nose and her and stuck his tongue out. Everyone laughed. As they passed the entrance to the Great Hall, Ron blinked, looking as if he had been struck by a thought. He slowed, looking from the Hall to Hermione and back. The others trailed off in their laughter and came to a halt with him.

Ron squinted at Hermione and asked, “Say, what did Dumbledore want you to go to his office for?” Hermione shrank in on herself, her face paling a bit, and the others all looked at her with sudden concern.

“Yeah, that’s right! What happened, ‘Mione? Did you get in trouble for something?” Ginny prodded.

Harry even piped up. “Why did Snape have to escort you? Was he being horrible to you again?”

Hermione looked nervously around the corridor and gestured for them to follow her up to the Tower. “No, I wasn’t in trouble, and no, Snape wasn’t horrible to me. I’ll tell you all about it, but let’s get upstairs.” She turned and hastened down the corridor and up the stairs to the common room. The others eagerly followed her. They clambered through the portrait hole and made themselves comfortable in their favourite seats, Ginny, Harry, and Ron gazing expectantly at Hermione.

Hermione took a deep breath and began. “Dumbledore wanted to ask me about the play, since he found out I had seen it before. Seems he has no idea how to stage it and wanted information. Well, I told him he could go see it, since it’s playing in London, but he said he wouldn’t have time. So, he’s sending me to see it again, and he’ll take my memories out into the Pensieve to look at everything here. I was coming from the owlery just now, having sent the note back to my folks about going to see it Friday night.” She paused, noting the looks of surprise and interest on the faces around her.

Ginny gazed at her thoughtfully and said, “How did he find out you had seen it?”

Hermione cleared her throat and tried to sound nonchalant as she replied, “Apparently, Professor Snape told him.”

“What? How did he know?” Harry sputtered.

Hermione swallowed nervously and said, “I mentioned it in our first meeting, after he asked me how I knew my part already. Seems he was a bit put out that I knew more than he did.” She forced herself to smirk a bit, knowing the others would expect it.

Ron snorted and sat back, grinning at the others. “I’ll bet! Wish I could have seen that…”

“So, how are you getting to London Friday night?” Ginny asked.

Hermione tucked a wayward curl behind her ear as she glanced about. “Uh, well… I’m actually going to visit my folks and stay for dinner before going to the play. Then, they’ve arranged for us to have a guided tour of the theatre the next morning.”

Ginny pounced on her words. “Us? Who else is going? You said Dumbledore’s too busy.”

Hermione glanced at them and saw their perplexed expressions. But Ginny’s expression was sharp and shrewdly calculating.

Hermione’s grimace was genuine as she answered, knowing what her friends’ reactions would be. “H-He’s sending Professor Snape as well, since he’s had more experience with gathering information to be used with a Pensieve.”

It was like a small bomb had gone off within the group, as everyone reacted to her news. Ron rocked back in his seat, an oath hurtling from his lips as his face contorted in disgust. Harry shot up straight and his eyes kindled like green fire as he scowled fiercely, his hands clenching in his lap. Even Ginny gasped and cried, “Snape?” Her eyebrows shot to her hairline and she regarded Hermione, stunned.

Ron stammered, “Y-You have to go see the play with Snape? Bloody hell! A whole evening with the great git! That’s ruddy awful…”

Ginny narrowed her eyes again and asked, “Wait. You said you’re going to have dinner with your folks before the play. So, is Snape going to be there for that too?”

Hermione nodded. Ginny shook her head slightly and blinked a few times. Harry spat, “I feel sorry for you and your parents, ‘Mione. Who’d want to have to see that greasy git at dinner? It’d be enough to make me lose my appetite.” He shuddered.

Hermione bit back an angry retort. Mustn’t make anyone suspicious. Act like you agree with them. She contented herself with a noncommittal shrug, looking away from Harry’s glower.

Ginny pressed on. “And you’re going to get a tour of the theatre too? When is that?”

“Saturday morning. Early. Like, at 8:00.”

Ginny quirked one corner of her mouth up in a rueful smirk. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to wait until after you get back again Saturday to ask you all about the show. I doubt you’d want me pestering you when you get back late Friday night since you’ll have to get up so early the next morning.”

Hermione swallowed and took a shaky breath. “Well… actually… I wouldn’t be back that night anyway. My parents have offered to let us stay the night, and Dumbledore accepted.”

Silence reigned after her revelation. The others were too dumbfounded to even snipe in response. They stared at her, completely gobsmacked. Ginny recovered first. In a voice barely above a whisper, she said slowly, “You mean… Snape… is going to… stay the night… at your house? With you there?” Her eyes were wide.

Ron made a retching noise in his throat and moaned, “Ginny, don’t say it! It’s too horrid!” He gave Hermione a pitying look, turning rather green.

Harry looked as if he had been petrified. He sat, staring stonily at Hermione, his expression a mixture of envy, hatred, and disgust.

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, stop it. It’s not like I’ll be sleeping with him…” Her voice faltered as she felt a pang of desire at her own words. Hastily, she continued. “There’s a guest room, you know.”

Ginny favoured Hermione with a sceptical look and said, “You know, I was jealous that you were going to see the play, but now, I most certainly am not!” Shivering lightly, she heaved a deep sigh and turned to the boys. “Anyway, I don’t know about you two, but I need a shower before dinner.” She stood and stretched. “See you lot back here in 20 minutes?” The boys blinked distractedly and nodded. Hermione stood and worried her hands, looking sheepishly at them.

“Yeah, Ginny. I’ll meet you to go down to dinner. See you later.” Hermione hurried to leave the common room, retreating to her room. She heard the boys whispering behind her as she left, no doubt about her having Snape stay at her house after seeing the play.

It’s not like I’ll be sleeping with him…

Hermione’s face flushed and a tingle washed over her as she remembered her words. She hurled herself into her room and slammed the door behind her, leaning against it, panting. Tilting her head back against the wood, she closed her eyes. Oh gods! Now that I’ve thought of it, I’ll never get it out of my head! She pushed away from the door and flopped on her bed. The heat that had started in her belly was spreading through her, and she could feel her juices moistening her knickers. She squeezed her legs together in a vain attempt to ease the throbbing.

Get a hold of yourself! This is madness. You can’t go to dinner like this. He’ll be able to tell! Calm down. Be rational. She pressed her palms against her eyes in frustration. Oh Merlin, this is going to be a long week…

Twenty minutes later, the four friends were down in the Great Hall for dinner, still rather subdued after Hermione’s news. Hermione schooled her expression into one of indifference, hoping the others would follow suit. All the same, she was both disappointed and utterly relieved to enter the Hall and see that Snape was not at the High Table.

At least he’s not here to see the state I’m in!

She saw the others’ furtive glances at the High Table, but ignored them. Finally, Ginny started talking about the earlier practice, and the boys relaxed. Hermione only half-listened to their conversation, her mind spinning with the excitement and consternation of her situation.

I hope it won’t be too awkward at dinner with my parents. Snape’s not quite the easy conversationalist… And I hope my folks don’t do anything to embarrass me either! Blast and damn! Dumbledore sure does have a knack for making people do things they wouldn’t normally do, doesn’t he? She cast a look up at the headmaster at the High Table, noting that Snape still hadn’t arrived. I wonder if he’s even going to come to dinner tonight… He certainly didn’t seem happy about the whole idea. Oh gods, I hope he doesn’t hate me for all this! Hermione writhed in spirit as she sat waiting for the others to finish eating. Ron noticed her sitting there, and looked at her, concerned.

“You all right, ’Mione?” The others turned to look at her. “You’re not eating.”

Hermione shook her head and huffed in dismissal. “Not everyone has a cast iron stomach like you, Ron. I’m fine. I’m just not very hungry.” She really wasn’t, since her stomach had knotted up in anxiety over Snape’s reaction. She looked up and saw Harry scowling. She forced a watery smile and said, “Really, I’m just not that hungry. I’m fine. I think I’ll go have a bath and read. I’ll see you lot later.”

Harry looked down, scowling deeply, and glanced back up at her, pain in his green eyes. “You’ll holler if you need anything, right? I… uh, that is, we don’t want you to feel bad. If there’s anything I—uh, we can do to help, just say so.” He blushed furiously as he stammered.

Hermione nodded and turned to go. Ginny and Ron exchanged a knowing glance over Harry’s telling display. Harry avoided their eyes and focused on his plate as Hermione left the Great Hall.

*********** *******************************

Snape decided that he didn’t feel up to dinner in the Great Hall that night, not after Dumbledore’s surprises that day. Besides, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to go amongst students smelling of Firewhisky.

He had been sitting in front of his fireplace for hours, mulling his prospects over several liberal shots of Old Ogden’s. He had come to the startling conclusion that since Voldemort’s demise, there was no one he’d be more loath to meet than Hermione’s parents. Especially as he and Hermione were in the situation of still having to hide their feelings for each other.

I’ve never… what would this be if we were closer in age? Gone courting? He snorted violently at the old-fashioned notion. Please, that’s not what they call it nowadays… Not that I have any idea what they do call it, considering my lack of prospects over the past twenty-odd years. His fingers drummed against the arm of the chair. Perhaps you should view this as an opportunity to see if there could even be a future for you, based on what you can glean from her family. Then again, maybe once she’s faced with the idea of having to come clean to her parents about you, she’ll realize that it’s a ridiculous idea and you’ll get your answer even sooner. Snape scowled into the flames, trying to ignore the panic that fluttered in his chest at that idea.

Oh bollocks! Just put it all out of your head! There’s nothing you can do about it, and brooding won’t make anything better. You’ll follow your instructions and behave as politely as possible under the circumstances. You’re not there to win a popularity contest! You have an assignment. Just like you’ve had for the past twenty years… Only this time you won’t have to face Crucios or possible death!

A sudden image of a faceless Mr. Granger hurling himself bodily at Snape after seeing him snogging his little girl flashed across Snape’s mind. He choked on his Firewhisky and spluttered. He ground his palms against his eyes in an attempt to eradicate the image, to no avail. Groaning, he sank back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Hang on a bit. Scratch that… Right. Crucios: no. Possible death: yes.

******************** ****************************

Sunday, the cast saw the next rehearsals posted on the notice board.

“Wednesday November 19, 7:00 p.m. in the Great Hall: spell practice
All actors required to attend.
New spells will be issued for glamours for Draco, Pansy, and Professor Snape
All ballet dancers will be issued enchantments for ballet slippers.

Saturday November 22, 7:00 p.m. in the Great Hall: block from beginning Auction through Hannibal
Actors required to attend: Everyone except Professor Snape
Bring your scripts and a pencil to copy your blocking.

- A. Dumbledore, Director”

Hermione spent time with Harry and Ron, working on their homework the way they usually had done before all of the awkwardness. At one point, when Harry had left the common room for a bathroom run, Hermione squeezed Ron’s hand and whispered, “Thank you.”

Ron turned a confused look on her and asked, “For what?”

Hermione smiled and murmured, “For everything you’ve done to help smooth things over with me and Harry. You and Ginny both. I just want you to know that I’m grateful.”

Ron smiled warmly at her and patted her hand. “No worries. I’m just glad things are getting back to normal. I am sorry it didn’t work out though. I thought you two were pretty great together.” He paused, seeing her expression cloud and her body stiffen, and pressed her hand harder, effectively stopping her from launching into the tirade that was clearly on its way. “I know! I know. Really. You don’t have to go through it all again for me. I understand.”

Hermione shut her mouth with a snap and relaxed. Sheepishly smiling again at him, she nodded and looked down. “I really appreciate your support, Ron. It means a lot.”

Ron twinkled at her reassuringly and said, “’Mione, you will always have my support. Whatever you want, I’m there to back you. What else are friends for?”

Hermione squinted at him pensively. In a low voice, she said slowly, “I’m really glad to hear you say that. Just be ready for me to hold you to it…” She looked away, frowning thoughtfully.

Ron’s brow furrowed. Perplexed, he asked, “Uh, ‘Mione, is there something going on?”

Hermione shook her head. “No. I just know that when I do fall for someone, Harry’s not going to be very pleased, and it’s comforting to know that you’ll be happy for me.” She pinned him with an intense stare. “You will, right? That’s what you said. It won’t matter who it is; you’ll support me?”

Ron, taken aback by her intensity, blinked rapidly and stammered, “Y-yeah, of course. If you’re happy, I’m happy. Simple. End of story. Are you okay?”

Hermione relaxed again and flashed him a smile. “Yes. I am. Just… don’t talk about this around Harry, okay? I don’t think he’s ready to think about it yet.”

Ron nodded vigorously, eyes wide. He glanced up at Harry, who was returning, and then quickly looked down at his book. Harry joined them again and they continued working. Hermione was relieved. Like Ron had said, things seemed to be returning to normal, and Hermione hoped that her friendship with Harry would eventually get back to its solid roots.

Wednesday morning, Hermione made her way to the Potions classroom with a nervous flutter in her stomach. It would be the first time since the meeting in Dumbledore’s office that she would be close to Snape. They had managed to avoid each other in the corridors and the Great Hall. Several times, Snape hadn’t even come to the meals in the Hall. Hermione kept a tight hold on her feelings at all times. Well, except for when she was alone in her room at night.

Ever since her comment, “It’s not like I’ll be sleeping with him,” she had been plagued by highly erotic thoughts and dreams involving the Potions Master. She had even resorted to taking matters into her own hands, so to speak, to relieve some of the tension from being in an almost constant state of pent-up arousal.

And now she was going to have to make it through an entire lesson with the object of her desires in front of her. So close and yet so far. She arranged her materials on her table and sat rigidly on her stool, waiting for Snape to enter the classroom.

Snape burst into the room, stalking quickly to the front. He spun on his heel and swept the room with a baleful glare.

Hermione gasped as he entered and felt a liquid warmth in her knickers. Closing her eyes, trying to maintain a façade of composure, she took a deep breath and set her jaw before looking up at the tall man gazing down on them. She ignored the buzzing in her body, the reaction that was always attuned to Snape’s presence.

Snape whipped around and wrote instructions on the board, taking the time to do so by hand so he could fight his own reaction to Hermione in the front row. His chest tightened so much that he almost felt short of breath, and his stomach seemed to turn into a block of ice. He realized afresh how much he was falling for her, and he was terrified.

The more he cared, the more she would be able to hurt him.

Finally sure that his face bore no tell-tale sign of his inner turmoil, he turned and raked the class with a supercilious sneer. “Instructions are on the board. Begin.” With that, he sat at his desk and immediately dragged a parchment from the stack to grade. Hearing nothing but scratching quills, he chanced a peek through his hair at Hermione. Her face was flushed, but she was focused on her task.

Apparently both of them were getting better at controlling their emotions, as the lesson went smoothly, with no occasion for them to give themselves away. As the period neared the end, Snape looked up and announced, “Clear your stations. Turn in your samples. For homework, read chapters 26 and 27 and compare and contrast the potion types therein. At least two feet of parchment!” He paused as the students began cleaning up, eyeing Hermione. “Miss Granger, please see me after class.”

Hermione glanced up, startled. Darting her eyes around the room, she swallowed apprehensively and answered, “Yes, sir.”

“Class is dismissed.” The students began pouring out of the classroom, but Hermione stayed put. Snape stepped around his desk and leant against it again, arms crossed as he glared at everyone until they were gone. Waving his wand, he closed the door and locked it, casting a Silencing Charm for good measure. Finally alone, he looked at Hermione and saw the hunger in her eyes as she gazed at him. Clearing his suddenly tight throat, he said in a low voice, “I have the details for you regarding our departure Friday.” He felt his eyes flicker away from hers uneasily and cursed himself for being so foolish.

Hermione felt her pulse throb in response and flushed. Gamely trying to act nonchalant, she inquired, “Oh? What are they?”

Snape cleared his throat again and said, “Dumbledore has decided that as I am the more experienced wizard, I will control the Apparition. We are to wear Muggle clothing and walk out to the Apparition point outside the front gate. I am to get the coordinates for our destination from your mind. I am authorized to use Legilimency for that.” He cut a sheepish glance at her before looking away again. “He has stated that for security, I am to cast a concealment charm before we Apparate so that we will not be seen as we arrive at your parents’ house. When we get there, we are to adjourn to a secluded area to become visible again before we approach the door. We are to be there by 5:30 for dinner. After dinner, we will make our way to the theatre for the show, and return. The next morning, we will go back to the theatre for the tour, and Apparate back here when it’s done. When we return to Hogwarts, we are to meet Dumbledore in his office to deposit our memories into his Pensieve. Then, that evening, we can retrieve them at rehearsal after he has retained whatever information he needs.” Schooling his expression into one of indifference, he looked at Hermione and added, “Do you have any questions?”

Hermione blinked and said, “How are we to get to the theatre? Are we Apparating there too?”

“He didn’t specify. I can’t Apparate somewhere I haven’t seen. Do you remember the theatre enough to give me coordinates?”

Hermione scowled thoughtfully. “No. We could always ask my parents to drive us, or get a cab, but it could get expensive.”

Snape twitched. Dryly, he drawled, “I’d rather not ride in a Muggle vehicle. Where is the theatre? Perhaps there is a wizard location near it we can get to.”

Hermione responded absently, “It’s at Haymarket, in London.” Suddenly, she pinned him with an intense stare. “You said you can’t Apparate to a place you’ve never seen, right?” Snape nodded, clearly aggrieved, but Hermione barrelled on. “And you can get coordinates from my mind. So, if you saw a picture, would that be enough?” She was obviously excited.

Snape thought for a moment. Slowly, he said, “I suppose that should work. It’s much the same as me taking the picture you have of your parents’ home from your mind. Once I have seen the point to which I wish to Apparate, I can do so.” He looked up at her from under beetled brows. “Why? Do you have a picture?”

She flashed him a dazzling smile and said, “No. But I’m pretty sure we can have one when we get there. I’ll just have to owl my folks again.”

Snape’s breath caught at the sparkle in her eyes and her smile. He realized he was staring at her and wrenched his gaze away.

Hermione noticed that he wasn’t looking at her very much and felt her gut twist in anxiety. Sobering quickly, she leant toward Snape and said softly, “Are you okay?”

He shot a glance at her, his eyebrows raised, and snapped, “Of course. Whatever do you mean?”

Hermione stepped in front of him and hesitantly laid her hand against his forearm where it was still in front of his chest. As soon as she touched him, a jolt shot through them both. Snape inhaled sharply and Hermione gazed up at him, locking eyes with him.

In a low voice, she murmured, “Are you angry with me for this whole situation? I know you don’t want to do any of this.”

Snape grimaced and muttered, “You are correct in thinking that I am not entirely comfortable with this arrangement, but I am not misguided enough to hold it against you.” He looked down at her, his miserable dismay clear in his black eyes.

Hermione lifted her hand from his forearm and cupped his cheek. Snape stiffened, but found himself leaning into her touch involuntarily. Hermione licked her lips at her sudden increase in desire. Snape saw it and felt a tingle in his centre. Hermione stepped closer to him and started to slide her hand up into his hair, her eyes half-closed. Snape realized she was about to close the gap to kiss him again, and he held his hand up between them, stopping her. Frustration flashed in her eyes and she voiced a petulant whine.

Holding her with his stern gaze, Snape lifted his hand and covered hers against his face. He wrapped his long, slender fingers around her hand and pulled it gently away from him, turning his head to press a soft, warm kiss to her palm. He felt her fingers trembling in his and his gaze softened. He ignored the fierce pounding in his veins and purred, “All in due time, my dear… All in due time.” Firmly putting her away from him, he gazed down at her and added, “Meet me in the Entrance Hall at 5:00 Friday with everything you may need to take with you. No doubt I’ll see you tonight at the meeting. Now, hurry along to class.”

He waved his wand at the door, removing the charm and unlocking the door. Hermione fixed him with an incredulous look of frustration, and he felt his lips twitch, holding back a laugh. Huffing, glaring at him pointedly, Hermione gathered her things to leave. Before she turned to go, she narrowed her eyes and pinned him with a meaningful glare, hissing, “This isn’t over, Severus…”

Snape’s eyebrows shot up in response and Hermione smirked triumphantly as she spun on her heel and flounced out of the classroom, leaving a stunned Potions Master in her wake.

****** *******************************

That evening, the cast gathered again in the Great Hall. McGonagall and Dumbledore began circulating through the group, making sure each person was correctly casting his or her costume spells. After getting everyone started, Dumbledore called Draco, Pansy, and Snape to him.

“Professor Flitwick has been good enough to provide me with the appropriate glamours you will need as part of your costumes. Miss Parkinson, Mr. Malfoy, you both will require glamours that will make you look, shall we say, heavier than you are. And Severus, you, of course, will need the glamour for the Phantom’s face.” Pansy and Draco exchanged dismayed looks at the idea that they would both have to be made to look… fat.

Draco spoke up. “Headmaster, is this absolutely necessary?”

But before Dumbledore could respond, Snape cut in, silkily, “Mr. Malfoy, have you not paid attention to the play? The Phantom clearly says that your character must lose some weight…” He smirked at the pale blond boy. “And I believe that it is a traditional idea that, in opera, diva sopranos were rather… formidable in size as well.” Snape turned his smirk on the pug-nosed girl. Dumbledore chuckled.

“Don’t worry about your costume spells. Once you’ve cast the glamour on yourself, your costumes will adjust to fit as well,” Dumbledore said reassuringly. “Are you quite ready, then?”

Draco and Pansy looked at each other in chagrin and nodded at Dumbledore. Dumbledore cast Draco’s glamour first, immediately followed by Pansy’s. Snape watched in fascination and amusement as they seemed to inflate. The four of them were distracted by titters from among the rest of the cast. As one, they turned to see the students sputtering with laughter as McGonagall sternly scolded them. Draco and Pansy scowled and glared at the rest. Dumbledore stepped forward and swept a sober gaze over the group, silencing them with his unspoken reprimand. As the other students went back to their own spell work, Dumbledore turned to Snape.

“Now, Severus, I have taken into account the shape of your mask as well as the description of your character in the play to create your glamour. Are you ready?”

Snape inclined his head. Dumbledore nodded and cast the glamour. Snape felt the magic tingling on his face. He heard Draco and Pansy gasp at the sight and turned to look at them. They were gaping at him in horror. Suddenly, he was startled by a muffled shriek from the group, which caused every head to swivel in his direction. A spatter of answering gasps and cries washed through the group. He scowled at everyone, no doubt looking even more frightening. Dumbledore turned once again to the group.

“Settle down, everyone. There is no need for such a commotion. Professor Flitwick has done a remarkable job with this glamour, has he not?” He gazed amiably over them. A few people nodded slowly.

Snape looked at Hermione and saw her gazing at him sympathetically. She caught his eye and gave him a faint, encouraging smile. Snape continued his scan of the room and noticed that Ginny was eying Hermione, frowning thoughtfully. She glanced back at Snape and blanched before nervously jerking her eyes away from him.

Damn! That Weasley girl is going to be trouble; I can just see it! I have to remember to talk to Hermione about her. Well, I suppose I can tell her Friday. We’ll have plenty of time then… He scowled again, watching the students avoiding his gaze.

Dumbledore handed each of them pieces of parchment with the glamour spells on them, leaning close to Snape saying, “Now, Severus, remember what I said before. No terrorizing the students on your night patrols with this new acquisition.” He smiled and twinkled at him. Snape rolled his eyes, aggrieved.

Snape stepped away from the chuckling man and muttered, “Finite Incantatem.” The glamour disappeared and he pocketed the parchment. Dumbledore called to all of the girls who were to do ballet in the play and began instructing them about their slippers, which would now be bewitched to dance properly.

Snape glanced at the girls. They were all listening attentively to Dumbledore. At his direction, they all changed to their ballet costumes. Snape jerked his eyes away at the sight of Trelawney again. Carefully, he focused on Hermione. As usual, beside her stood Ginny Weasley. Hermione flicked a glance at him. A moment later, Ginny glanced at him too. He instantly wrenched his gaze away from Hermione. He scanned the room before idly sweeping his gaze over the girls again. Ginny’s eyes were darting back and forth between Hermione and Snape, her brow furrowed.

Bloody hell. She’s far too suspicious. I should just leave. At least then there’s no way she can catch anything between us!

Snape slowly sidled away from the group, heading for the doorway. He was several steps away when he was stopped by McGonagall.

“Severus,” she called, as she detached herself from a pair of practicing students. “Where are you going?” She minced up to him, frowning.

Snape glared down his nose at her and said, “I am leaving. Dumbledore gave me my glamour, so I needn’t stay any longer.”

McGonagall quirked an eyebrow at him and pursed her lips. Firmly planting her hands on her hips, she drawled, “On the contrary, Severus. The whole cast is here to practice their costume spells. You included. Now, get to work.” She smirked at him, clearly enjoying exercising authority over him.

Snape stared at her in disbelief. Icily, he bit out, “Are you questioning my skills, Minerva?” His voice was full of warning.

She thinned her lips at him and crossed her arms. “We aren’t making potions here. Your task is to practice.”

Snape’s eyebrows climbed and his jaw clenched. He felt his pulse quicken with fury. Locking eyes with her, he slowly drew his wand. After a beat, McGonagall raised one eyebrow as if to say, “Well, get on with it.” Snape narrowed his eyes.

In a deadly calm voice, he spat each of his transfiguration incantations, whipping through his costumes lightning fast. Each costume was a blur as his robes changed so quickly. Then, by way of heaping coals of fire, he snarled his glamour spell as well, taking morbid satisfaction at the startled look on her face as she jerked in surprise. Abruptly ending his spell, he sneered at her.

“Satisfied? And, please, Minerva, do I have your permission to go now?” His voice dripped with sarcasm as he mocked her.

McGonagall drew herself up and huffed. “Very well then. Good night.” She flicked an irritated glance at him and hurried away to another student.

Snape noticed that several students were shooting furtive glances at him, having obviously witnessed the confrontation. He saw Hermione’s lips twitching, like she was holding back a laugh. Ginny was casting owl-eyed looks his way. He straightened to his full height, smoothed his robes, and spun smartly on his heel to stride out of the Hall. He fought the desire to look back.

As the girls stepped away to practice their ballet steps, Ginny leant in to whisper to Hermione, “Wow! That was wild!”

Hermione looked at her and asked, “What?”

“That whole scene with McGonagall and Snape! Did you see how fast he flew through those spells?”

“Oh, yeah. It was something, wasn’t it?” Hermione kept her eyes down, looking at her feet as the slippers made her dance.

Ginny regarded Hermione solemnly. “Man, I hope you don’t make him angry Friday. If he’s that quick, it could be a bad thing to do!”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m sure it will all be fine. Really, Gin, stop worrying about it! He’s really not that bad.”

Ginny squinted at her in disbelief. “Whatever, ‘Mione. I’ve got almost six years that say otherwise. So, you’ll have to come up with something pretty extraordinary to prove he’s not so bad.”

Hermione thinned her lips. Still looking at her feet, she muttered sardonically, “Fine. I’ll keep that in mind.” At that point, the slippers were taking over for more complicated steps, and conversation became almost impossible. Hermione was grateful for the reprieve.

In a determined tone, she said to herself, If I have my way, I will have something pretty extraordinary to prove he’s not as bad as everyone thinks. She smiled to herself. Of course, to me, Severus himself is what’s extraordinary… I can’t wait for Friday night!