I don’t own Harry Potter. Mrs. Rowling does. Lucky sod. Not that she's a sod... it's just a figure of speech... sweatdrop alright. I'm going to shut up now...

Chapter 19.

She let Severus out at a reasonable time the next morning to ensure that he would have ample time to prepare for classes, all the while trying to keep a straight face when referring to him as her beloved ‘Luce’. She called upon all her years of experience with Harry and Ron- and their unspoken need of her more serious side to ground them- to keep a straight face around the potions master and keep herself from giving the game away. When they had finally parted ways, Hermione absentmindedly made her way over to her well-used kitchenette with the intention of a cup of tea.

Several tea kettle refills and burnt fingers later, however, she conceded defeat to the stovetop and requested a cup of tea from the house-elves before allowing herself to collapse upon her bed and contemplate what was really on her mind while staring at the ceiling of her rooms; her weekend plans.

This weekend was going to be one of the school’s annual Hogsmeade weekends and Severus and she were both scheduled to chaperone. Originally the two of them hadn’t been assigned simultaneously, but Hermione had managed to arrange the chaperoning schedule to work in her favor.

…

Well, all right. Maybe “arrange” wasn’t quite the word. More like threatened.

Truth be told, Hermione checked the chaperone assignment schedule that was available in the staffroom to see when Severus was a designated chaperone soon after she had started visiting Severus as Bea. Though she was getting to know the Potions master in a more subtle fashion through her cat visits, sometimes men just had to be told things outright. She had decided that she would implement her plan during a Hogsmeade weekend when they could both be outside of the castle walls, and therefore be outside of the range of meddlesome headmasters, yet could not leave their location due to their duty as chaperones. It was the perfect place to corner, converse with, and conquer the Potions Master.

With that in mind, she was delighted when she discovered that Snape was assigned to chaperone the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend and promptly checked to see who was supposed to accompany him to the town and share the burden.

As luck, or in Hermione’s case lack thereof, would have it Sybil Trelawney was scheduled to chaperon with Severus on that particular weekend.

The Charms Professor’s delight turned to glee when she saw who was assigned, figuring that it would be easy to convince the batty old fraud- who disliked leaving her tower in the first place due to the stress that the regular castle activities placed upon the “inner-eye”- not to go.

What the Charms Professor did not figure, however, was the Divinator’s obsessive crush on Severus Snape.

Hermione had approached- well, more like cornered- Trelawney in her tower and politely (polite only for the sake of maintaining a pretense of professorial character) requested an exchange of chaperoning times with the professor. Her gleeful disposition that came with the assumed ease of the task at hand faded when the would-be seer refused with just as much fake politeness as Hermione herself had previously administered and scurried into her personal chambers off of the divination room.

Hermione, after getting over the shock of misjudging the ease of the task, stalked into the rooms after the professor, determined to wear her down to submission.

Upon crossing the threshold, however, she was driven into a shock for the second time within twenty minutes, a record for the sensible Hermione.

Within the sitting room, or at least what Hermione assumed was a sitting room, was Snape. Actually, a more correct expression of the room would be a Snape room- the walls of the room were papered with wizarding photos of the as of late barely civil professor, effectively surrounding the unsuspecting Charms Professor. Though, in the pictures, the professor did not look civil at all, but rather disgusted and horrified at his presence within the rooms of the Divination Professor. There were a few that looked more amused than horrified, but they stumbled about and burped suspiciously and were accompanied by flasks or jugs of what one would assume was alcohol, so Hermione did not may them much attention.

She tried to get over her shock, but as she looked around the room she only encountered more Snape memorabilia. In the corner there was what Hermione could only describe as a miniature altar, containing used potions vials, old table napkins that all sported a suspiciously hooked-shaped nose indentation in the middle, and worst of all-

“Good Gods woman- is that a jockstrap?” Hermione trilled out in horror.

Trelawney whirled around upon Hermione’s statement, not realizing until that moment that she was not alone in her quarters.

She nervously glided in front of the shrine and spread her arms protectively. Her eyes narrowed into a serious- well, as serious as one’s eyes could look behind two inch-think coke-bottle glasses-gaze and quipped:

“You know my dear, it is quite rude to enter the home of another without an invitation.”

“This isn’t a home, this is a shrine!” bit out Hermione.

She fought back the urge to hex the woman into 5 minutes ago- an urge that party came from the idea of sharing her love interest with the school dragonfly of all people and partly from years of repressed anger towards the old quack- it would be so easy. Just a few movements of her wand and everything would be better.

Her desire to carry out her plan, however, was just strong enough to overcome the horror of the similarities between her taste in men and that of the professor and she kept her wand in the non-aggressive position at her side.

After seeing the Snape room, Hermione’s resolve simply hardened. There was no way she could let Sibyl accompany Severus to Hogsmeade. I

It wasn’t a matter of competition- Hermione mentally snorted at the thought of lowering herself to the level of competing with the divination dragonfly- or manipulation; it was a matter of mental well being now. This woman would drive Severus insane, for one of his more redeeming qualities to the Charms Professor was his utter loathing for the divination witch, if she was given enough time- time not unlike the allotted amount required by teachers to chaperone Hogsmeade.

She narrowed her eyes and stomped forward with her wand arm outstretched and her wand gripped tightly, ready to do battle. She would be going to Hogsmeade with Snape in the upcoming designated weekend, whether Trelawney liked it or not.

“Stimmy is having your tea miss” –broke her out of her recollection with a jolt. She smirked to herself and sat up on the bed before thanking the house-elf with a smile and lifting the cup to her grinning lips.

Yes, three threats upon the woman’s favorite set of tarot cards and five broken crystal balls later, Hermione had finally gotten her way with Trelawney. All there was to do now was wait for the weekend to come.

#&#!#!#

I know, I know. It’s a really short chapter, but I’ve had a lot going on recently. I have an art critique next Wednesday, and I’m posting this chapter while I’m waiting for a painting to dry enough to where I can keep working on it. So please forgive me! But school comes first.

Read and review!

-Ivre