white liar

Although Hermione had expected some sort of a confrontation at Malfoy\'s arrival a week later, it had been surprisingly uneventful. He had given her a very Snapelike sneer and refused to greet her, but Hermione could live with that. He had, however, immediately warded his quarters and changed the password on his door. It had taken her the better part of three days to negotiate with the warding spell, but now one of the peepholes was open, giving Hermione a decent view of Malfoy\'s sitting room. She vaguely wondered what the peephole was on the inside: she highly doubted it was an actual hole, the wizarding world was too subtle for that. Actually, the wizarding world should have been too subtle for peepholes as well, but Dumbledore had reminded her that a magical window could be made to work both ways, and to be careful not to blow her cover.
She was trying to enlist the help of the portraits to discover the password to Malfoy\'s quarters, but she was afraid they would chatter and give her away. Could you Obliviate a portrait? She wouldn\'t risk anything before talking to Dumbledore. It\'s not like there was some kind of a hurry anyway. Besides the powerful wards on his quarters, Malfoy hadn\'t done anything remotely suspicious. And his wards were nowere near as powerful as hers and some of the other professors\'. Snape\'s, for instance, had thrown her back five feet when she tried to break in, and the next morning she was sure he had given her an extra dirty look.
Snape. The only professor that she had sincerely disliked throughout her seven years as a student, excluding Umbridge. She had been almost relieved to leave his class, which was sad, because she had liked Potions. She had ignored Snape\'s nasty remarks, trademark sneer, and the presence of Draco Malfoy, and tried to annoy him as much as possible by knowing the answer to all his questions. She considered it a source of personal pride that Neville had passed his Potions OWL: the years of deducted points and detentions for muttering instructions had paid off. Of course, her NEWTS were nothing short of spectacular, but if Snape wasn\'t going to say it, then neither would Hermone.
Oh well. She just hoped she could get away with avoiding him as much as possible.
Unfortunately her hopes were dashed as soon as she saw the night rounds roster. It read: Monday, Thursday, Saturday---- Professor Malfoy, Professor Granger, Professor Snape.
Damn. It was like Potions class all over again.

***

Snape sat in his office, trying to savor the last minutes of vacation before the Sorting. He really couldn\'t believe Albus, hiring that Granger girl now that that Malfoy was around. The two had never gotten along, to say the least. What did Albus want to do, expose those impressionable young minds to diplays of public bloodshed? Despite the Granger girl\'s apparent calm and Malfoy\'s disdain, he knew a fight was bound to happen. She hadn\'t gotten any less nosy-- he knew when someone tried to get past his wards. He\'d glared at her the next day, but she just sat there and looked innocent. Yeah, right. And that night rounds roster! Ridiculous! Malfoy would want to trail him continously, and he had no patience for that at all. Of course, now he had to be careful not to arouse suspicion. Fine, if Malfoy wanted to follow him, let him try. In that case, Snape sincerely hoped he enjoyed the presence of the Bloody Baron, because he\'d get to see him more than he could immagine.
With a sigh, he got up and left for the sorting. Another year had begun.

***

Hermione slipped her wand up her sleeve before stepping out into the dark, sleeping school. The sorting had gone well: she had watched those young faces reflect nervousness, awe, and eagerness with more than a little nostalgia. She had been tempted to daydream about the good old days, but had cought herself looking at Snape instead. He had been scowling down at his plate, black hair and clothes in stark contrast to his almost translucent skin, and for a moment Hermione had felt a surge of pity. It must have really been horrible for him to return to Voldemort, she thought, before catching herself. This was Snape she was feeling sorry for! The man would probably eviscerate her if he even thought she pitied him! Hermione decided it had been a momentary lapse in judgement, and let it go at that.
The second floor hallway was plunged into darkness as a cloud moved over the moon. The footsteps behind her were so soft she it took her a minute to realize she was being followed.

Snape slipped through hidden doors and behind statues, his potions-proof robes left behind in his rooms. He liked to catch erring students unaware, and those robes made far too much noise. Malfoy was... somewhere on the second floor, if the Bloody Baron had done his job. He had just enough time to catch a glimpse of a lone figure when the moon vanished behind a cloud. Malfoy. He\'d give the brat a good scare and remind him who was in charge. Softer than even the most careful cat, Snape went after his prey.

She was positive this was Malfoy. Would he attack her? Did he know she was spying on her? Oh Gods! What if he\'d found the peephole and traced the magic back to her? Voldemort would find out and Snape\'s life would be in danger and she, Hermione, would have failed this most simple of missions, and...
Hermione listened, but the footsteps had become completely inaudible. She was reaching for her wand when a hand on her shoulder spun her around.

He spun the boy around, almost disappointed that the darkness prevented him from seeing what he knew would be a teriified expression on Malfoy\'s face. He was not expecting the blow that came to his solar plexus, making him double over gasping.
Oh, so that\'s how it was going to be, was it? Without rising from his bent over position, Snape shoved forward, hedbutting Malfoy in the stomach. They both went down.

Surprised, Hermione got a knee in between and kicked him off, but not before he\'d landed a solid punch to her nose. She jumped on top of him and drew her wand, blood trickling down her face, but froze as she felt a telltale brush across her neck. The moonlight poured back through the windows, and Hermione looked down into the furious eyes of Severus Snape.

Snape could not help but feel grateful for the moonlight. Malfoy was probably about to hex his head off. Wait. The face dripping blood onto his was definitely not Malfoy\'s, it was... Oh Gods, no. It was Granger.

Hermione\'s relief lasted less than a second. Snape looked ready to kill her. Actually, he probably had been about to do just that if the moonlight hadn\'t stopped him. Hurridly, she jerked her wand arm behind her back.
\"Professor, I\'m really sorry! are you all right? I didn\'t mean to... hey! What were you doing sneaking around on me, anyway?\"
\"I assure you Granger, if I had known it was you, I\'d have worn gloves.\" he snarled. Her nose looked broken, and it was still bleeding heavily. \"Sit down before you faint!\"
\"I\'ll be fine, it\'s just a nosebleed.\" She said, but she sat down anyway. Damn, it really hurt! What was his problem anyway? So she\'d punched him first, so what? He\'d scared her half to death!
\"Shut up and pinch your nose! And tilt your head back!\" He looked at her blood covered hands before digging out some tissues and handing them to her. Too exasperated to do more, he turned to go in search of Malfoy. The real one. His chest pinched painfully as he inhaled. He was going to have a spectacular bruise in the morning. Snape thought of Granger\'s probably broken nose and smiled. At least something had gone his way.

***

Hermione stuffed a couple of wads of tissue up her nose to stop the bleeding. Not broken, but painful as hell and gushing like a fountain. She headed back to her quarters to clean up and put on clean robes. As she dug through her closet, she realized that this was the first time Snape had spoken to her since her arrival at Hogwarts. At least she\'d gotten to punch him, the git! It was almost worth the bleeding nose!