It just...happened...

Snape didn’t dignify that with an answer, opting more to turn around, look at her with distaste, offer a bitter lip curl and stand with his lean arms crossed, waiting for her to stand and follow him.

She noticed the prompt and stood quickly, hugging the bucket to her chest. She still wore the gloves, and she found that they kept out the biting cold. Snape continued moving swiftly, deeper into the forest with no regard if Hermione was following or not.

Hermione breathlessly caught up to him almost, walking a few footsteps back from him. He was a little to intimidating to stand next to and hold a conversation with. But she was able to obviously view his tall frame in front of her, shoulders that she had considered weak and small now appeared so strong…she almost felt sorry for what he had lived.

Then he broke the tender moment by speaking.

“Do keep up,” he sneered, adding with a mutter, “Silly little girl.”

“I’m not a silly little girl.” Hermione said defiantly, looking to his back with anger on her face. She tried to say it respectfully, but she was certain he would take it the wrong way.

He did.

“Do not talk back to a Professor, Miss Granger.” He muttered darkly, walking faster as Hermione struggled to keep up…damn his long legs. “It is very unadvisable.”

“Sorry sir.”

“Sit.” Snape suddenly commanded, pointing to a stump in the foliage. Hermione did so without comment, she was growing used to his berating and orders. She silently counted the days until she would be out of Potions forever.

He ignored her exaggeratedly sloppy seating, as she placed the bucket on her lap. Snape suddenly turned around, his dark eyes flashing as he held a large prickly looking plant in his hands.

“Miss Granger.” He said evenly, “You are to take three large quills from this plant, and place them into the bucket gently. They are very potent…one small slip and you’ll be knocked out for a long time.”

Hermione nodded, suddenly nervous while pulling the gloves down lower. Snape nodded to the plant and watched as she licked her lips and reached for one quivering quill.

She was almost there when suddenly a large barking sound emitted from the plant and Hermione fell backwards off the stump. She heard Snape’s cursing through his obviously gritted teeth as the plant jumped off of him and ran off into the depof tof the forest.

Hermione pulled herself back up, looking at a now livid Snape. He held his leg, wincing as he glared at her. He had various lengths of the plant’s quills lodged in his left leg.

Hermione brought her hands to her parted mouth and rushed over to him, standing a slight distance away. An injured Snape was far worse than a normally bitter and twisted one.

“Professor.” She breathed, looking to him with a horrified look on her face, “I’m so sorry…I had no idea…should I run back to the school?”

Snape rolled his eyes and plucked the various quills from his black trousers and stood, towering over her shaking frame. “No need.”

Hermione stared at him, openmouthed, “But…aren’t you going to pass out for an extremely long time like you said?”

“Was that your plan?” he sneered malevolently, “To knock me unconscious and have the woodlife around here pick my bones clean?”

Hermionped ped at him standing, “No sir…I\'d never do that…Not even to you.”

As soon as the phrase; ‘Not even to you’ escaped her mouth, Hermione clamped her mouth shut, inwardly feeling the wrath in Snape’s eyes. He leaned in closer to her, just so she could see the bottomless nature of those soulless eyes.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Snape said softly, and shaking his leg a bit as the quills dislodged themselves, \"But I was lying about the potency of the quills.”

“But why?”

Snape raised an eyebrow in exasperation, “For a know-it-all, you surely don’t.” when he saw Hermione was nonplussed he went on, “I lied so that you wouldn’t be so careless with the ingredients.”

Hermione looked at him in wonder, shocked that he would do such a thing and confused as to why she wanted to step closer to him. Perhaps safety? She did feel safe around him.

At that moment though he pulled back from her, looking at her with obvious uncertainty with a blend of something else that she couldn’t quite comprehend.

He motioned for her to follow him then, and they walked on moments longer, until Hermione’s prior questions bubbled inside of her until she could take it no more…she had to know whom Snape had been talking of.

“Professor?” she offered weakly, sure that he had heard her, even though he wouldn’t answer, “When you said that Voldemort was among us, and that he was someone very close to me…you meant…he’s possessed someone?”

Snape offered an exasperated sigh at this one, “Close Miss Granger.” He pushed back a branch from a low tree, to keep it from scratching his face, and let it go with ease as it promptly smacked Hermione on the forehead.

She groaned softly and grasped at her forehead, cradling it from the impact of the branch. Her vision was blurred a moment and she stumbled along the path.

“What is it now, Miss Granger?”

“Nothing sir.” She rubbed her forehead a bit mored cod continued on excitedly, “So, Voldemort has possessed someone?”

“I said, ‘close’ Miss Granger.” Snape said with a frown, “Must I spell it out for you? Polyjuice potion.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, “Oh.”

“Yes we all know how experienced you are in that field.”

Hermione didn’t answer this last scathing comment, and he offered no more information. Hermione bottled up her dignity and threw herself at the mercy of curiosity.

“Professor? Why can’t you tell who it is?”

Snape gave her a severe look suddenly, as he turned a moment in the inky blackness to look at her. “None of your affair.”

Silence pierced the air.

Until a shrill cry invaded it.

“Oh!” Hermione gasped, lurching forward and trying not to trip on the mossy underbrush under her feet now. Snape looked unimpressed as she said in a fearful voice, “Did you hear that?”

Snape offered what appeared to be a dignified version of a snort and said with a malicious smirk, “Honestly…it’s probably just a bird.”

Nibble nibble went Hermione on her lower lip, so very nervous now. He was still a few steps in front of her, and she found herself walking faster, until they were step in step, and she could almost feel the warmth of his body next to hers.

“Would you mind not stepping on my boots?” he said irritably, and Hermione realized to her own embarrassment that in her absolute fear she had been almost stepping on him, clamoring to be near him.

She jumped back in livid humiliation and refused to meet those dark, hooded eyes of his. She heard a muddled sigh and he said a husky voice, suddenly close to her ear.

“You needn’t be afraid Miss Granger.” He seemed to be about to go on with that comment, but he didn’t. The warmth of his breath on her ear was gone, and subsequently she felt colder than before.

Was he trying to be kind? No. No, he was making fun of her. Hermione snuck a glance up at him, beneahe ghe gentle shelter of her fringe, and to her immediate horror saw he was staring at her. Or…er…had he been? Perhaps he was just looking at her in a passing moment, scanning the foliage and she happened to be caught in his line of sight?

She immediately darted her gaze from his, unsure of why her heart was quivering so badly in her chest. She decided this was a most opportune moment to talk…to open that big mouth of hers and spew something out that would make him stop looking at her…if he still was.

Yep. He was.

“Professor?” she asked as she looked back up to him, he was now looking ahead of him, oblivious to the young woman walking beside him. “Who is it?”

“Who is what?”

Hermione tried to keep her balance, surely he was just d thi this to be a prat…he knew perfectly well what she was referring to.

“Who is it that Voldemort taking the image of?”

His dark eyes were back now, unabashedly looking to her with a squinting, scrupulous look. He looked suddenly uneasy, his pasty face paler than usual…if that was possible. Suddenly the fire in his eyes was back, and he had a calculating look back on his sallow face.

“Did I hear you correctly moments prior Miss Granger?” Snape said swerving slighto mio miss a fallen tree trunk, “Calling the Headmaster, Dumbledore?”

Hermione gulped softly, hoping he’d forget it. She knew that he was just trying to change the subject, so he wouldn’t have to answer her. In all her worrying she had indeed called the headmaster Dumbledore, and she internally kicked herself.

“Yes sir.”

“You know what that means then.” He said gruffly, as Hermione nodded to herself, bitterly frowning in the cold air.

“Yes sir. Ten points from Gryffindor.”

Snape di ans answer, obviously thinking about something else. She looked back to him over her shoulder and he caught her eyes again. A blush rose to her cheeks and she looked away so fast it was almost impressive.

“I think…” Snape said slowly, thinking as he spoke, “I think we’ll head back to Hogwarts now Miss Granger.”

“Yes sir.”