Lunar Magick

Chapter 3


A few days had passed since the date, and Hermione was beginning to wonder if Draco was going to want to see her again at all.

Ron, Harry and Hermi sat at their Potions desk. This was the first Potions class Hermione would attend since her recent and somewhat bizarre fantasies, which not a soul knew about.

Professor Snape entered the room about seven minutes after class normally would have begun. His hair was damp and tousled, and he was carrying his overcoat in one arm, and a stack of books with his coffee in the other. He looked as though he had just run out the door in time to grab coffee and bolt to his classroom. He also had a look on his face like he was about to laugh. A few students gave each other weird looks, as if to say, “what the hell?” and “where’s the real Snape?” He threw his books down onto the dusty desk, and attempted to comb through his hair with long fingers. Once composed, he opened the top book and instructed fairly harshly as usual, “Chapter eight, page one-o-three!” Hermione seemed to be dazed and confused as the stark man at the front of the class self-consciously fidgeted and once more, tried fixing his jet-black hair. Ron poked her in the ribs, fearing her tardiness would cost them house points.

Seamus Finnigan, the Irish bloke who was never at a loss for something funny to say, piped up. “Professor? We were worried about you. You’re never late. We thought maybe you’d died on the way here,” he said with a slight smirk on his face. Instead of deducting fifty points from Gryffindor or barking out “Detention!” Professor Snape just looked at Seamus blankly. Seamus turned to a Hufflepuff girl behind him and asked, “d’ye think he’s on drugs?” The girl just giggled. As soon as Seamus turned to the front again, Snape replied to him. “Terribly sorry, Mr. Finnigan, though…I have a feeling you slightly exaggerated the trauma the class suffered as a result of my absence.” He then added, “I had an unbelievably strange dream and I must have turned my alarm off in my sleep.” The class looked stunned at his honesty and approachability. “Now then. Let’s get started, we’re short on time as it is.” Harry turned to Hermione, who looked as though she were ten times as shocked as the others. Keeping his curiosity to himself, Harry opened his books and started working. The studious Hermi raised her hand throughout the class as usual, but she was as white as Nearly Headless Nick. What was unknown to everyone, along with her fantasies, was that Hermione had secretly wished for Professor Snape to have dreams about her, just to see what would happen, and to get the attention and affection she craved. It appeared to have an effect on him already.

Draco Malfoy appeared around the corner as Ron and Harry went to see Professor Flitwick about their Charms presentation. He knocked into them, but it was surprisingly unintentional that he did so. Draco seemed in a wonderful mood, and said to them, brushing the wrinkles out of his robes, “Sorry ‘bout that” Ron started at him a bit, but Draco continued, cutting him off. “Easy, there, bug. No harm done. Now then. Gotta be off to Transfiguration.” He stalked off dashingly, and instead of jabbing and sneering at first year “bugs” in the hall, he pointed one in the right direction. Malfoy approached the meek little blonde girl who had been glancing back and forth at the same two doors for about five minutes. He reached a hand for her schedule, and she gave it up, intimidated. She apparently thought he was going to rip it up, because she looked worried, but instead, he read it carefully for a second, and pointed at the door behind her. She turned pink and watched the handsome sixth year carry on, robes billowing. Ron and Harry couldn’t speak for a few moments, and just kept blinking in awe. Seamus Finnigan sidled up and nudged Ron. “Dint ye hear? Lockhart’s Draco’s new idol.” He said, jokingly, but was just as puzzled by the bully’s change of heart. As they watched the young Irishman grin and walk away, they moved their suspicious gazes to each other. Ron, always competing with Seamus for the world’s most blunt speaker, said in horror, “Harry! This can only mean one thing!” he gulped, “Hermione!” Harry thought the same, but to hear Ron say it was quite the shock. His stomach churned.

After their discussion with Flitwick, the two friends strolled through the dim halls, leisurely making their way to the Gryffindor house. Ron had taken a few notes from their Charms professor, but all throughout the meeting, he and Harry could barely concentrate. Their thoughts kept boarding trains to the gutter, and stopping at Draco and Hermione.

Speak of the devil, faraway down the corridor stood two figures. One was taller, and male, the other petite and female. As Ron and Harry approached, they saw it was Draco holding Hermione’s hand and talking to her. They were both smiling and then they moved closer to each other. Draco stood real close, towering over Hermione, whose cheeks were becoming red. Harry could not make out what he was saying, but Draco seemed to be doing all the talking, and kept sneaking closer to her. He was a little concerned for a bit, but then realized that he worried too much. He saw his good friend Hermi’s face beaming at Draco, and put himself at ease. He then looked at Ron, who was watching intently, seemingly hopeful for a glimpse of something naughty. The forms kissed passionately, and Hermione tugged at Draco’s bottom lip playfully. He slipped his arm under her sweater and around her waist when all four students heard sharp footfalls. They belonged to Professor Snape, who was walking at a fair pace over to the lovebirds. Ron and Harry hid against the wall, but continued observing. Snape slowed and started talking to the pair, audibly.

“Miss Granger, may I have a word, please? Mr. Malfoy, would you be so kind as to go back to the dormitory? It’s almost curfew anyhow.” He gave a quick, half-hearted smile to Draco, then turned his attention to Hermi. She waved to Draco, as he left. Professor Snape clasped his hands craftily behind his back, and loomed in to talk to her closely, but his strong voice could still be heard by her hidden friends. “Miss Granger. Would you be opposed to stepping inside my office?” He paused, waiting for a reply. Hermi stared for a moment, then said, “Em. Well, Professor, I was actually on my way to meet with Professor McGonagall…she…em..wanted to have a word about my essay.” She looked as though she were hoping to convince him. The tall, but stooping wizard was returned to his upright position when she had mentioned McGonagall. He arched a brow, then said, “You know very well why I wanted to speak with you, don’t you? You mustn’t go around doing that sort of thing. Especially not to me.” She flushed brightly for the tenth time now. He carried on, “I don’t really understand why you did it, or where you learned it from…” Ron looked at Harry quickly, wide-eyed. “But I will not play this game with some sixth year girl—no offence—one of my own students.”

Harry’s heart went out to Hermi, though he didn’t know what she had done. She looked saddened, almost to tears. Snape leaned into her again, nearly touching his face to hers. “Look. I’m sorry. I’ll give you some time, and I’ll give you what you need until you can stop doing this. I have done something similar before, but--” Hermi reached her hand up, touching his planed cheek softly, and his hanging black locks. Ron’s eyes were wider than ever, and his mouth was open. Harry looked back curiously at the face of his clever friend, who was now grinning and piercing Snape with her wicked brown eyes. “Well, Severus, I’m glad you understand me. See, that’s why I like you. You can read my mind and know exactly what I want.” She emphasized the last bit by just touching their lips together. The two boys saw her tongue lick his bottom lip quickly. Ron looked like he was going to either soil his pants or be sick to his stomach. The Potions master now seemed slightly frightened and paler than his usual milk complexion somehow. Hermione broke eye contact with him and he straightened up, fixing his hair, which had been pulled forward by her thin fingers. Her eyes went back to looking at her feet dejectedly. She told him, “Em, Professor Snape, I’ll report to my dormitory. Please don’t take any points. It’s only just curfew.” He looked flustered and said, “It is indeed a very wise decision to go back to your house immediately. I will not deduct points this time.” He turned, robes flying, and walked off briskly. Ron and Harry watched as their best friend smirked and trod off to Gryffindor. “What was that all about?” said Harry, almost angrily.

Barely speaking, Harry and Ron climbed into their beds and each fell into a troubled sleep. They both woke in frenzy, hurrying to meet Hermi at breakfast to find out what happened.

There sat Hermione, occupying her usual seat, clad in scarcely appropriate clothing for breakfast in the Great Hall. She sat flirting with Fred, George, and Seamus. Ron sat next to her, cutting off George from playfully nipping his hand at her skirt. George looked scared when his younger brother, Ron, glared at him as if to say, “since when are you hitting on my friend?” Fred and George hurriedly started up a conversation with Seamus about Quidditch teams. Harry sat across from Ron at the table. Neither one of them could find it within themselves to ask her what has gotten into her lately, or what she was doing acting like that with Snape. Harry had wondered if she was even still seeing Draco, so he kept an eye on the Slytherin subtly. He still seemed to be in a rare mood. And in the halls between classes, he made a habit of grabbing her and kissing her hard, despite the disapproving looks on the ugly faces of Crabbe and Goyle. She didn’t seem to mind either. A lot of the time, she would go so far as to lift her leg and rub it up and down his while pressing him against a wall. Both Harry and Ron acted like nothing had changed, but they observed her and took mental notes on her strange behaviour. Even though Malfoy acted more jovially, he was still the same, sly Slytherin he had always been. He seemed to be very proud of Hermione, as he thought he had corrupted her.

One class was particularly weird. Ron had dragged Harry to their double Potions session with Slytherin a few minutes early. Hermione was already in the room with Draco, sitting in his lap and writing in his notebook. Professor Snape entered the class, leaving Harry and Ron in the doorway. He went to his desk after glancing nervously at the flirting students. Hermione got up immediately, despite Draco’s demanding hands pulling at her hips. She went round to Snape and leaned on his desk. She rested her head on her hand and asked him dreamily, “So…what are we going to learn today?” He looked at her, loathing her suggestive closeness. “Miss Granger, back to your seat at once.” She mockingly looked hurt, and whispered to him, “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, Severus? You could have asked me to stay…” She winked and strolled back to Draco’s seat. Snape was furious. He slammed his book open on the desk. Seamus turned and directed one of his jokes at Hermi this time, “Is that how he opens yer legs, Hermione?” He blew a kiss at her. Hermione just twitched a sexy brow at him. Draco told Seamus off just in case his reputation for being an ass had slipped too far. He had felt the need for some time, and this was a perfect excuse. That arrogant Irish bug was insinuating that Snape had a go at Hermione? Draco thought this over for a while, uncomfortably, but went back to his usual righteous grinning as Hermione sat in his lap again, and busied his hands beneath the desk. Harry wanted to hide, his face burning now that his one best friend was simply humiliating to be around. He didn’t know if her little thing with Professor Snape was true, but for sure something had been going on between them. Very strange. Snape, now more cold and bitter than ever, snapped at Hermione when he noticed she was hanging off Malfoy.
“Granger! To your own bloody seat!” She flinched, and sat down next to Harry.

“Harry, she’s getting way out of hand…should we try and do something?” asked Ron at break time.
“I don’t know, Ron. I don’t even know if there is anything we can do.” They tried to come up with reasons Hermione was behaving that way, such as: spending too much time with Malfoy, spending too little time with Malfoy, too much time with Snape, too much time studying and now she’s gone mad, and even the repulsive idea (which they believed was probably true) that Draco had gotten her hooked on sex. They hushed as they spotted Hermi sidling up to Snape, who was trying to drink some water in peace. Her hand slipped into his black robes, and she said, seductively, “I’m sorry I made you angry. I have no idea,” she pushed herself against his chest for a second, “what’s gotten into me lately…” Snape looked helpless for a change; his stern looks and dominance had vanished. However, Harry noticed something even weirder than Hermi flinging herself at Snape. The professor had shut his eyes tight and held his head, as if pained by something. “Ron”, he whispered, “I may have an idea of what’s going on…just give me a bit of time.”