The Halloween Party

Hermione looked down at the outfit she was wearing and wrinkled her nose. She loved Halloween, really she did. She just did not see the point in wearing a costume. But, Ginny had insisted and since this was her party...

The brunette sighed. It had been three years since the defeat of Voldemort. Ginny and Harry had married. Ron had become a constant companion of one Luna Lovegood.

Hermione smiled at that thought. She had Ron had dated for a year, but eventually went their separate ways. They were still friends and still loved each other. But their love for one another had fallen into a sibling category.

Then again, that wasn't an entirely fair statement. Though Hermione called Harry and Ron her brothers, they really were more than that. Spending a year in a tent together and destroying the most evil man the world had ever known brought them closer than siblings could ever be.

It was Luna who had managed to win Ron's heart, and Hermione was happy for it. To her, they were well suited to one another. Certainly moreso than Ron and Hermione had ever been. Sure, Luna had her odd moments, and she wasn't what one could call "normal" by any means. But, Ron seemed to love it. Hermione supposed it was his humorous side that helped him to falling in love. Besides, for all her oddness, Luna had her moments of extreme intellect and seriousness.

Hermione was still single. While she wasn't thrilled at the notion of being "The Only Member of the Golden Trio to Not Settle Down," she was content. She just didn't want to rush anything.

Thank the gods Ginny had chosen this party to be a masked one. They were holding it in Grimmauld Place, since that was where Harry and Ginny lived. What surprised Hermione the most was some of the members of the guest list.

She was never one to begrudge anyone of anything. But, seriously? The Malfoys? She had scoffed when she read the names.

The only person on the list she was really looking forward to seeing was Professor Snape. It had been three years since she had last saw him. Three years since she, Harry, and Ron had left him for dead in the Shrieking Shack. Three years since she grew a conscience and went to look for him after Voldemort's defeat. Three years since she realized he was still alive, though barely.

She remembered that night well. She had found anti-venom in his robes and a blood-replenishing potion. Taking Essence of Dittany out of her own jeweled bag, she had healed the wound and gave him the anti-venom and potion. It bought him enough time to get him to St. Mungo's and to Healer's who could really help him.

That had been the last she had seen of the Professor.

She applied her blood red lipstick and placed her red mask upon her face. She wondered if he would be happy to see her or hateful that she hadn't let him die. Of course, she was banking on the idea that he would actually attend the party. Thus far, he had refused all of Harry's previous invitations.

(II) (II)

As always, Grimmauld Place was a full Halloween spectacle. Cobwebs fell from the banisters while skulls decorated the ends of the stairs. There was a life-size skeleton sitting in a chair near the home's entrance.

Hermione smiled as she entered. Since the Potters moved into Grimmauld Place, they had begun redecorating. Well, Ginny had begun redecorating. They even expanded the house to include a ballroom so Ginny could host parties, like this one.

Of course, Hermione knew that Harry did not mind. While he did not particularly like the attention that came with his title of "The-Boy-Who-Defeated-The-Dark-Lord-Twice," he understood the importance of maintaining contact with those who were part of the war. Besides, throwing a party was a good excuse to see old friends.

The Gryffindor giggled when she saw Kreacher carrying a tray with drinks. She thanked him graciously as she took one of the drinks and made her way into the ballroom.

This was Ginny's pride and joy. Every party, every occasion, this room was decorated to match the occasion. Tonight was no different.

Two large chandeliers were spread evenly apart and looked crooked, dusty, and old. Spiderwebs hung from the chandeliers and the lights flickered like candles.

On one end of the ballroom, there was a massive organ. Like the chandeliers, the organ was covered in cobwebs, though not overly so. A man sat at the organ and played. It sounded as though Hermione had entered the Twilight Zone, and she found herself laughing at the Muggle reference.

On the other end of the ballroom rested the bar and several tables, all decked with black tablecloths, flickering red candles, and several Halloween toys that Hermione knew had to come from George's joke shop.

There were people here already, some dancing to the Gothic tunes that came, not just from the organ, but a couple guitars as well. Seemed Ginny went all out this year.

A touch on her shoulder startled Hermione and she turned around. Her smile grew wide as she noticed the flaming red hair. "Ron," she greeted, throwing her arms around his neck in a hug.

He laughed as he returned her hug and then released her. "I'm not Ron tonight," he told her, giving her a devilish smile.

She feigned surprise. "Really? Then who are you, might I ask?"

He puffed out his chest dramatically and placed his arm over his heart. "I am Count Eatonburg, the last of the living wizarding dynasty," he announced.

Hermione covered her mouth as she snorted.

Ron threw her a sour face. "Aw, come off it, Hermione. Don't be like that," he complained. "It took a lot of work putting this costume together."

"What did Luna come as?" she asked, still smiling.

"My Countess, of course," he said.

"And where is she?"

"Getting some drinks," he told her, honestly. "Though, I believe she got lost. I was just on my way to the bar to find her."

Hermione nodded. "I shall come with you."

"Wait," said a voice next to her.

Ron and Hermione turned towards the voice to see a tall, dark person standing there. Hermione could easily guess who it was. There weren't many wizards with hair that shade of blond. "What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron asked, a slight sneer in his voice.

Draco Malfoy calmly lifted his mask and bowed slowly. "I apologize for my interruption," he said. "I had merely hoped to gain the honour of the next dance with the lady."

Hermione glanced around, waiting to see who he was talking about, because he couldn't possibly be talking about her.

Ron sighed, "Here we go again." He glanced at her and shook his head in amazement. "I don't think you've ever gone to a party without being the belle. Have fun."

She stared at him in shock as he walked away to find Luna. She knew Ron wasn't being obnoxious or jealous, but sincere. He really thought she was the belle. She shook her head and looked back at Malfoy to see him staring at her with an odd smile on his face.

"So, may I?" he asked again, holding out his hand.

"Do you even know who I am?" she asked him, cautiously placing her hand in his. She waited for him to snatch his hand away.

He chuckled. "You're Granger, right? Or have you decided to choose a different identity tonight?"

She blinked. "You know who I am and yet you still want to dance with me?"

He pulled her into a waltz. "I've been wanting to dance with you since our fourth year," he told her, honestly. "You clean up really well, Granger."

"And your father? Your wife?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I'm not planning to sleep with you," he said, wrinkling his nose then smiling to show her he was teasing. "There's nothing wrong with dancing with the most beautiful girl here. I know I missed out on my chance with you a long time ago."

"Missed out? Malfoy, I don't think there ever was a chance," she countered. He twirled her and she continued. "When you weren't busy calling me a 'Mudblood' and making my teeth ten times bigger than they should be, you were picking on my friends and plotting to join the Death Eaters."

He frowned. "I'm trying to be nice, Granger," he said, his voice falling a few decibels. "Can't you just take a compliment? Why are you bringing up that stuff anyway? It's in the past."

"So is our fourth year and any 'chance' you might or might not have had. You're married now," she pointed out.

"Happily married," he said. "Astoria is a wonderful person. I certainly don't deserve her. She's kind, caring, delicate, and beautiful. She has grace and all the things that make her incredible."

"And she's a pureblood. You forgot that part," Hermione retorted.

Malfoy stopped dancing and stepped away from her, letting her go. "Didn't I just make it quite clear that that doesn't matter to me?"

"No," she spat. "You didn't make it clear to me. Last I checked, you were..."

He grabbed her by the arms. "Granger..." he began. Then, he let out a frustrated groan and turned his head away from her. "You know what? Forget it. I'm trying to change here. And I believe I've done a pretty damn good job so far. But, you are too narrow minded to realize that. You call me prejudice. Perhaps you should take a look in the mirror sometime."

With that, he released her, turned on his heel, and walked away.

Hermione stood there in shock for several moments. She had never been known as someone prejudice. In fact, she was one of the people who often spoke out against it, especially since she was often the brunt of prejudice.

Anger boiled inside of her and she marched to the bar. She needed a drink. Badly.

(III)(III)

A man in a black cloak watched as the young witch made her way to the bar. He had been watching her since she entered the ballroom.

His neck twitched of it's own accord and he felt a slight pain there. Of course he knew the pain was subconscious. His neck had been fine for nearly two years now.

He hadn't planned on accepting the invitation. After all, he had no ties to Potter or his friends. He had given his life to save Potter and now, with the Dark Lord dead, he felt his duty to the boy was done. Now, he could go on hating Potter and everything Potter was.

But he did not forget the boy's eyes. It was the only part of Potter that he could not bring himself to hate. Those eyes had been the last things he saw before he had blacked out, welcoming death.

But some people just did not know how to leave well enough alone. She had come to his rescue. She had returned to him. She had felt his weak life-beat. She had brought him back.

He continued to watch her as she grabbed two drinks from the bar. She had downed one in a single gulp and had began drinking the other as though it was water. He scoffed. Did the girl have no scruples? She'll drink herself under the tables at this rate.

He wondered what Malfoy had said to her and realized that had to be the reason she was drinking heavily. Deciding to stop her from making a fool of herself, he placed his own drink on a nearby table and began making his way towards her. After all, he owed her his life.

Damn Gryffindors.

(IV)(IV)

Hermione saw the man approach. He was dressed head to toe in black. His mask covered his facial features, but she couldn't help but wonder whether she knew him.

She sniffed. Of course she knew him! She had been to these parties countless times. She knew everyone who attended.

But she had never seen him before.

When he approached, he gave a slight bow to her. She smiled. Her head felt a bit fuzzy from her drink, but she didn't care.

"Might I request the next dance?" he asked, politely.

Her eyes widened and she held in a gasp. She recognized that voice! Her years of Hogwarts flashed through her mind as she looked up to stare into a pair of black eyes. She nodded quietly.

He gently took the glass of wine out of her hand. She nearly whimpered at the loss. Then, he led her onto the dance floor and began leading her in a quickstep. She was surprised at how graceful he was.

After a while, she finally spoke. "I'm so glad you were able to make it... Professor."

She could see a single eyebrow rise above his mask. "Why is that, Miss Granger?" he asked, turning her and then continuing in the dance.

She smiled. "Well, I haven't seen you since... You know... And you never attend Harry's parties," she explained, her smile faltering.

"I've been in recovery," he said, twirling her around again.

"For three years, sir?" she asked, curiousity painted over her face. "Forgive me, but doesn't that seem a bit... excessive?"

"Your drinking is excessive, Miss Granger," he said, boding no argument. "How long it took me to recover is of little consequence. Especially since I was supposed to die."

She blinked up at him, confusion written all over her face. "But, aren't you glad to be alive?" she asked.

"I see you haven't changed a bit," he said, abruptly changing the subject.

Now she was confused. "What do you mean?"

"You have yet to stop asking questions," he answered, his irritation showing. "I asked you to dance so I may enjoy your company. Not be bombarded with questions that have no affect to the outcome of this evening."

"Part of enjoying my company is to speak. Speaking leads to questions. Surely you know this, sir?" she asked, unable to stop herself from her questioning.

The music changed into another waltz, and so their pace changed. He led her about the dance floor like a lord of the dance. His moves were skilled and precise.

They were quiet through most of the song and when it changed again, Hermione could not stop herself from laughing. They moved steadily into a smooth foxtrot.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Miss Granger?" he asked.

She nodded. "I didn't know you knew so many dances, sir," she confessed.

"There is a lot you don't know about me," he pointed out.

"Where did you learn to dance like this?" she asked, not able to help herself.

He rolled his eyes. "I see now why you were constantly raising your hand in class," he sighed.

"How am I supposed to learn about you if I don't ask questions?" she commented. "Unless you have an autobiography..."

He looked affronted at the thought. "You think I have any interest in sharing my life with others in such a nonsense way? I thought you were intelligent. Brightest witch of your age, if I remember correctly."

Her eyes widened. "I didn't mean to offend you, Professor," she hurriedly apologized.

"Perhaps it's time for some water," he proposed as he led her off the dance floor. "And a more secluded spot."

"Intending on seducing me, Professor?" Hermione challenged before she thought.

He shot her a nasty glance. "Yes," he said, sarcastically. "I often make it a habit of mine to seduce former students. It works really well when giving them water to drink."

She grimaced. "I'm sorry, sir. I really don't know what's gotten into me."

He led her to the bar where he ordered two waters. Then, he led her to a table in the corner of the ballroom. It was awfully dark in the corner, the single candle gave little light. Hermione wondered if he had been sitting there all night.

"I really am glad you accepted Harry's invitation, sir," she said seriously when they seated. "It's really nice to see you again."

"Who's seducing whom, Miss Granger?" he asked as he watched her lean close to him.

He made no effort to hide his glance at her bosom, which, for whatever reason, she felt the need to showcase for him. Her breasts rested perfectly on the table as she had leaned closer and he couldn't help but notice the cleavage. She wasn't a well endowed witch. He wouldn't have interest in her if she were. But, she was ample enough for his taste, and he made a point of showing it with a glance.

She blushed prettily as she sat back in her seat. "I did not intend..."

"I know," he replied, stopping her from finishing her sentence. He took a sip of water and then looked at her.

It wasn't her fault that she kept slipping. If he would just stop staring into her soul like that. At least, she felt as though he was staring into her soul, the way he kept looking at her. As they spoke, they kept eye contact and soon, Hermione found herself lost in the black depths of his eyes.

The night continued as they called for Kreacher to bring them more water, some wine, and some food. They talked, though the only laughter came from Hermione. She was able to catch a glimpse of Snape's smile once or twice, but other than that...

They danced again. Enjoying a Viennese waltz, two more quicksteps, and another English waltz. They had greeted Harry and Ginny, much to the Potters' astonishment, before returning to their seats and continuing previous conversations.

As the night drew to a close, Snape insisted on escorting Hermione home. She was pleased with the idea. She thoroughly enjoyed his company, even if he was as snarky as ever.

When they reached her door, they stopped and looked at one another. "Thank you, Professor. It was a wonderful night," she said, blushing slightly.

He softly agreed, "Yes, it was."

Then, without thinking, without pausing to contemplate on the possible consequences, Snape cupped her cheek, tilting her head a bit, and kissed her. It was a slow, sensual kiss. He lightly licked her bottom lip and she sighed. He took the opprotunity to deepen the kiss, letting his tongue glide into her mouth and tasting her for the first time. He pulled her closer into his arms as he kissed her. His fingers tangled in her hair while his other hand pressed her waist against his body.

As quickly as it had begun, the kiss ended, with Snape pulling back, surprised at himself for his movement. Hermione panted softly and looked at him with just as much surprise and shock as he felt. Then, a slow smile spread across her face.

She quietly opened her door and stepped inside. "I shall... see you around, Professor," she said, huskily. "It has been a truly wonderful night."

He did not move, did not respond. He just watched as she softly closed the door.

---

Author's Note: Happy Halloween, everyone! I thought I'd give all of you a bit of Halloween joy. Was going to make this a Draco/Hermione. Had every intention of making it a Draco/Hermione. Then, at the spur of the moment, I decided to take the Snape route. I actually think it worked better this way. It's certainly something new for me.

Don't know if I'll continue it, however. *Shrugs* This is, really, just a dabble.