an awfully big adventure...

Hermione excitedly gave a silent cheer in the women’s washroom later on that day. Her hair was damp on the back of her neck as she had been stewing over the Potion quite a while, and she brushed her hair from her forehead, peering into the small and bubbling green potion by her knees.

She sighed wistfully, a large smile on her mature face as she imagined what the Potion’s potency would entail. Hermione Black. Hmmm, she liked the sound of that.

Moaning Myrtle suddenly flew beside her, floating melancholy with a loud sigh. She swept by Hermione several times before Hermione sighed again, lost in her thoughts.

“What are you so happy about?” she muttered darkly. Hermione looked to the transparent girl and gave a small frown of pity.

“Hello Myrtle.” She said, forcing a smile. “I didn’t see you there.”

This evidently was not the right thing to say, as Myrtle began moaning and wringing her hands above her head in a truly frantic fashion.

“No one evees.”es.” Myrtle said hastily pulling away from Hermione, “Who would care about STUPID, BORING, DEPRESSING MYRTLE?!”

“I’m just making a Potion.” Hermione said as she tried to casually change the topic, but Myrtle gave a low snort, suddenly breaking from her usual miserable state.

“Looks like a love potion to me.” Myrtle said swooping closer and peering nosily into the cauldron as well. Hermione frowned at this interruption.

“How would you know?”

“You think you’re the first lovesick witch to come in here and brew one?” Myrtle laughed with a screech s, and flew into a nearby toilet with a thundering splash…her laughter still echoing off of the porcelain.

Hermione muttered a few curses, and then maintaining her air of maturity grabbed a small vial from her pocket, dipped it into the potion and swept it back up, putting a dark cork in it. She shook it softly a moment, then dripped the contents into a small pme bme bottle.

A bell clanged in the distance and Hermione stood, her eyes narrowed in grim determination. She shoved the bottle into her robe’s pocket and headed out towards the great hall.

Snape on the other hand, the greasy git that he was, was promptly giving two Ravenclaw’s a detention with Filch. Which reminded him that this evening Hermione would also be joining them.

He smirked devilishly as he recalled Hermione’s humiliated expression; she had looked so pained as he clasped the small paper in his hand, threatening to show it to Black. He had decided against showing it to Black, who knows, the man might have taken her up on her blinded admiration.

He frowned at this, thinking back to her smile at the mere sight of Black. The man was always having women trail after him, even in school. He grinded his teeth as he recalled that day, the name Snivellus still echoing in his head. The day he had insulted Lily Evans. Black had humiliated him then, along with Potter…but Black was a constant reminder.

Now Herimone was dragged under Black’s spell of seduction, his aloof and immature persona. What a silly little girl. Why did he care so much? Bah, that Black was such a moron, he and that know it all would be perfect together. But as he thought this in his head, Snape grew increasingly disturbed by the feeling he possessed. At fet felt like…jealousy? No. God no.

Now he hurriedly swooped like the overgrown bat he was, down to the great Hall. A rushing figure promptly dashed in front of him rudely, and he clasped onto the figure’s arm, pulling them back out the door.

“Ah, Miss Granger.” He said darkly muttering, looking at her wide eyed and confused expression. She peered at him, trying to shrug off his clutch. He whipped his hand away, trying not to breathe unevenly. His thoughts of moments prior rang through his head as he tried to shake them off.

“I assume you have a good reason for rushing in ahead of a Professor? Your rudeness is intolerable.” Snape said silkily, as Hermione nodded but was looking through the narrow crack of the two doors almost meeting.

‘She’s looking for Black.’ Snape thought miserably, his pale hand suddenly slammed the doors together, the sliver of information closed.

“You will look at me, when I speak to you.” Snape growled dangerously. Hermione refused to appear scared and airily looked to him exasperated.

“I apologize Professor.” She said emotionless, Snape stood in full alignment once more, peering at her over his long nose.

“I’ve got my eye on you Granger. First my things go missing during that eventful Chamber of Secrets uproar, which I later found out you were the source of…now something goes missing years later, and you know what Granger? I firmly believe it was you again.”

Hermione didn’t answer, but stood firmly almost shaking under his wary gaze. She offered a weak and shaky smile and shrugged, trying to stop the shaking that had mastered her legs.

“I haven’t the faintest what your getting at.” Hermione said seemingly airily, but it was just her air was escaping her, “But I am late for dinner, may I be excused?”

Snape didn’t answer all that fast, seemingly enjoying his time of torment, and Hermione suddenly relished her leaving of Hogwarts.

“You’re dismissed. Get out of my sight you foolish little girl.” Snape hissed as Hermione, now evidently scared by him, rushed through the doors of the Hall.

Hermione found her place beside Ron, Harry was off talking to some Ravenclaw Quidditch players about something and Hermione resumed muttering to herself and frowned.

“Potion not going so well?” Ron asked smirking, Hermione shook her bushy head and pinched him, and he laughed, pulling his injured arm out of her reach. She had informed her of his plan when he caught her smuggling the cauldron into the washroom. They hadn’t told Harry anything about it yet.

Probably best if they never did. He always rolled his eyes at the girls, who talked dreamily of his Uncle, and Harry always responded with a dangerously quiet; “Stupid twits.” Hermione wished not to be put into that category.

“Actually, the potions done.” Hermione said sulking and shoving some bread in her downturned mouth. “But it’s too risky tonight. Snape said he’s got his eye on me.”

Ron gulped his food loudly, “That’s creepy as hell. Trust me, the git’s probably just trying to scare you. You know he still thinks you stole from his storage.”

Hermione nodded, not speaking so fast, then replied. “True. Switch spots with me would you?” She asked as she swiveled out of her chair, sitting on the opposite side until she had a clear view of Sirius. She made as if she was eating, but surreptitiously watched Black with a dreamy look on her face.

Sirius was eating his chicken while carrying on a conversation with Sprout at his left. She smiled and ate gingerly, trying to ignore the chicken bits occasionally dropping down his chin. The man ate like a pig.

Herimone didn’t see this though, she was looking at him like he was king of all wizards, Snape noted. He frowned at her sipping his butterbeer. Why should he care what some little Gryffindor was doing on her time off? She certainly wasn’t in his classroom. But he did care. Why? Nevermind that. Too much butterbeer.

Herimone shielded from Snape’s glare, muttering to Ron about something. Snape resumed eating, not meeting anyone’s eye. He was growing tired of all these emotions, and just wished they’d quit.

“How does it work?” Ron asked interestedly looking to the small perfume bottle in Hermione’s hand. Hermione motioned for him to keep his voice down and Ron obliged.

“As soon as I spray it on him, he’ll be enamoured with the first person he sees.” Hermione said giddily, clapping her hands together in delight.

“I need to say Hermione, that’s not love. That’s just forced lust.”

Hermione wasn’t listening to Ron’s pearls of wisdom as it were, she was standing with the small perfume bottle in her hands, nervously tossing it back and forth between her left and right hand. Hermione tentatively made her way to the head table, ignoring Snape’s occasional glare.

Sprout and Lupin had left his side, and he was sitting off a bit from the rest of the teachers. She decided this was a most opportune time to put her plan into action.

“Hello Professor Black.” She sat standing across from him, “Having a pleasant dinner?”

Sirius took a second from his dinner to glance up, and eye Hermione appreciatively. She was dear to him, as one of Harry’s closest mates. He swallowed his meal in a loud gulp and smiled, showing off his dimples.

“Yes. Quite. And you?” he asked looking to her with ease, as he was always comfortable around Hermione. She nodded, and he was confused when he noticed a small tinge to her cheeks. She was nervous? Out of the corner of his eye he saw Snape stand, that might explain her nervousness…but she wasn’t looking at Snape…

Hermione suddenly brought a small perfume bottle from her cloak’s pocket in one sudden movement, and smiled gently to Sirius. “I have a new cologne I bought for Harry’s birthday. Could I test it on you, and you can tell me if you think Harry would like it.”

Sirius shrugged gently, “Wouldn’t Ron be a much better model? Besides you’d probably know better than I, you’re Harry’s closest friend.”

Hermione looked uncertain a moment, but counted with a subtle. “Actually, Ron’s allergic to colognes, and I need a man’s point of view, and you’re the closest male to Harry…”

Sirius seemed to contemplate this a short moment, then nodded and sat patiently. Hermione’s hands fumbled with the perfume nozzle, and she suddenly noticed Snape coming up beside her. She better act fast. Quickly she sprayed Sirius, and a gentle mist settled over him, he closed his eyes as the spray neared his eyes.

Hermione stood fidgeting, waiting for him to open his eyes and see her when Snape strode over to her, purposely in her face as he tried to enrage her.

“Miss Granger, what do you think you’re doing. You’re getting perfume or whatever concoction that is, all over Black’s meal.”

Hermione wondered why he had even bothered coming over. Just to bother her? Well, it was like Snape to be so vindictive for no reason. He used to take points from third years if they sneezed around him. Suddenly Black’s smooth voice broke the silence.

“What’s the problem?”

Hermione looked to Black, waiting for him to look at her with adoration, and come hither look, but to her absolute horror Black was not looking to her with looks of lust in his eyes.

He was looking at Snape.