Harvest Moon

Hermione barely registered the queasiness that usually set in on Floo powder travels. Her lips were tingling and she fancied she could still feel Lucius’ kiss against them. Very odd. That had never happened with any of the other men she’d been with. It had certainly never happened with Ron. She shook it off, she had an investigation to do and though Lucius was part of that he was quite the distracting factor.



When she stepped out of the fireplace it was directly into a classroom, full of students. The spirit of Severus Snape turned toward her and lifted one supercilious eyebrow.



“To what do I owe the honor of you invading my classroom, Miss Granger?” Snape asked. There was a titter of laughter from the students in the class. The look the Professor gave all of them could have frozen the marrow in their bones. “Silence!”



Hermione stuck her nose in the air and looked mildly disgusted. “It’s Ms, I’ll thank you to remember, Professor Snape,” Hermione said. “As to why I’m here it’s because something has come up in a case that requires your singular expertise.”



“What might the something be?” he questioned.



“It’s a matter concerning a case for the Ministry. Children really shouldn’t be privy to the more gruesome aspects of it,” she said, glancing around at the faces of several, what looked to be first years. Sweet gods, had she, Harry and Ron really been that young when they’d found the Sorcerer’s Stone? Had they ever been that bright eyed and full of wonder?



Several of the children looked as though they wanted to talk to her but Snape silenced any questions with a glare. “Since you insist, Miss Granger,” he said acidly before turning fully to the class. “Have a full roll of parchment on my desk Friday morning on Kelpies. Mr. Mullins, writing ridiculously large will not be counted as appropriately doing the work. Class dismissed. Follow me, Miss Granger.”



“It’s . . .” Hermione began.



Snape whirled on her. “To the best of my knowledge you are unmarried. Therefore, you are a Miss. Political correctness if for milksop fools and those who give a damn. Since neither of those particular things applies to me I refuse to assuage overly sensitive egos with such tripe. If you want to ask me questions, follow,” he said, turning without another word and gliding into his office.



Hermione was grinding her teeth in frustration by the time she reached the office door. Death certainly hadn’t improved his opinion of her. She walked in and found a quill busily scribbling away of it’s own volition and Snape seated behind his desk.



“Well?” he prompted.



She resisted the urge to stick her nose in the air again. She’d dealt with far worse people while getting information. “Always so pleasant, Professor. I’ll cut to the chase.”



“Please, for the love of all the long forgotten gods, do,” Snape sneered.



“Fine. Is there any potion or spell that could modify DNA?”



“Several,” he said, sounding bored. “What were the resulting effects?”



“A mixture of both male and female DNA in one sample.”



“Are you certain it wasn’t contaminated?”



“Positive,” she growled.



Snape looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. “Most likely it was Polyjuice then. You should know all about that now shouldn’t you, Miss Granger.”



She glared at him. “Why would it be Polyjuice? That only changes a person’s appearance, doesn’t it?”



“You know so little of the things you’ve dabbled in. I really expected better of at least you. Polyjuice temporarily overwrites a person’s DNA. That is why one needs a hair from the individual whose appearance they are taking on. The sample you were speaking of was probably taken as the individual was either changing into or changing back from the person they wanted to show as.”



“That . . . makes perfect sense,” Hermione said, leaning heavily against the desk. It also explained why they couldn’t find Lucius’ brother. They had been looking for a man all this time but if Liren was using Polyjuice and masquerading as a woman their job would be a lot harder. It would also allow him to go into and out of places where a man would be suspect but where a woman would hardly be noticed. She stood up straight and nodded to him. “Thank you, Professor.” She turned on her heel and started toward the door. His voice stopped her at the portal.



“Miss Granger.”



She stifled a groan. “Yes?”



“Lucius fancies himself in love with you. If you are toying with his affections, I can assure you that you’ll not have a peaceful night’s sleep from the time I find out about it.”



“I . . . don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor,” she said haughtily.



“I suggest you find out then,” he said, waving her off and going back to perusing whatever the quill was writing.



She walked back into the now empty class room and to the fireplace. She leaned on the mantel for a moment, pondering what had been said to her just a moment ago. Was Lucius in love with her? Had the signs been there all along and she’d just never noticed? Then again, what would the signs have been? The only person who’d ever claimed to be in love with her was Ron and he was a boy at the time. Surely a man’s reactions would be different and Lucius was definitely that. The next thought was, could she be in love with him? Infatuated? Probably. Madly in lust? Absolutely. But love . . . love was something she’d need to ponder more. The mere thought of it left her unbalanced, uneasy and completely out of her depth. She’d never particularly enjoyed any of those sensations.