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A Matter of Honor Book 2: Honor Bound Chapter 2: The Danger Grows "Oh, come on, Hermione--don't you think he's cute?" Greg elbowed her as they found a spot at their favorite lunchtime hangout. It was a crisp November day, and the warmth of the small sandwich shop was welcome. "I mean, he's no Ken Branagh, but still…and I think he likes you…" Greg waggled his eyebrows at her and grinned broadly. "Oh, for Pete's sake!" She rolled her eyes. "I've told you before. I'm not interested in Russell. He's very nice, and I enjoy studying Arithmancy with him, but he's not my type. Period. So don't you encourage him," she added, pointing a finger at her friend. "Fine, fine. So then, if Russell of the deep blue eyes and bulging biceps isn't your type, dear…what is?" Greg leaned closer. Hermione was saved from answering immediately by the arrival of the waitress. When her eyes lingered in Greg's gaze for a moment longer than necessary as she took his order, he cranked up the dimples. When the waitress was gone, Hermione noted, "I see you're not sticking to your type today." Greg patted her cheek. "Of course not, love. Not when they're so much fun to toy with. Besides, I made her day!" Hermione shook her head. "And you're not off the hook yet. Spill. What kind of man curls your toes, after all?" Hermione remained resolutely silent. "Ok, then, let's go about this a different way," he said. "Tell me about the men in your past, and I'll see if there's a pattern." Again, Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, I'm serious. We've told you everything--well, right, not everything..." Hermione shot him a look. "Thank goodness…" "'Quid pro quo, Clarice,'" Greg said, falling into a bad impression of Anthony Hopkins in Silence of the Lambs, one of Bill's favorites ("He's just so sexy," Bill would croon). Hermione sighed. "Ok, ok. Well, it's just that there's not much to know. I haven't been holding back on you…you probably know it all already…" "So tell me again," Greg prodded She glanced at him, and then focused on her sandwich. "Well, I guess Viktor was the first," she started slowly. "I sort of went out with him just to get at Ron, but I really did like him. He was quiet, serious…" "…with a beautifully toned athletic body…" Greg interrupted. Hermione snorted. "Am I telling this, or are you?" Greg raised a hand. "My apologies, madam, pray continue." "Viktor was…well, despite his 'Quidditch celebrity' status, he was down to earth. He didn't like all of the stuff that came with fame. He just wanted to play--and he was dedicated to his schoolwork. We got along great, there." She paused. "He was the first guy other than my father to tell me I was pretty," she admitted with a shy smile. "You're gorgeous," Greg interjected. "Thanks." Hermione blushed a little. "Viktor was great, but there was just too much dividing us: distance, busy schedules…ancestry…" she faltered. Greg shot back, "Are you telling me that he broke up with you because…" "No, no, no," Hermione countered quickly. "Viktor didn't care who my parents were, or whether my family had ever produced a witch or wizard before. But being from Durmstrang--and having the parents he has--meant that it was just one more thing that stood between us." She paused, and Greg said, "Sorry about that." "Yeah, but what are you going to do?" Hermione shrugged. "Anyway, Viktor seemed to understand why I worked so hard. But I think the thing that stood between us the most was that, as hard as he worked at school, he really did want a career as a Quidditch player before he turned to something more lasting--and he could have been such an asset to the Ministry. He was so smart…" She paused again. "I guess it wouldn't have worked out. And now I wonder if I was really in love with him, or just flattered that somebody was interested in me." "Sometimes tough to tell," Greg agreed. "So what about Ron? He was next, right?" "Right," Hermione said. "I think I did really love Ron. We were so connected through Harry, and by everything we'd been through together. The problem was, I didn't love him enough. And Ron didn't understand me. Not really. He loved me, but he wanted me to be different. Probably he wanted me to be more like his mom and sister--strong witches who were also good wife material. I didn't want that, and he couldn't understand what I wanted." "So you don't want a family?" Greg asked. After a long pause, Hermione said, "I don't think I do. I know that's not what people expect me to say, but I…I mean, I thought about it growing up. I read all the novels with the happy endings. But at this point, I have so many things that I want to do--so many things I couldn't do, or at least, couldn't do as well, with kids…. Maybe it's selfish of me, but no, I don't think I want that." Greg took her hand. "It's perfectly fine, love. It's not that you're selfish, or juvenile, or a misfit. Don't let anybody tell you otherwise. It's that you know what you do want, and you're smart enough to have it. You're smart enough not to have kids because people tell you that you should want them. And did I mention you're beautiful?" Hermione smiled. He continued, "Now, I do know better than to think that you don't want a man in the picture at all. So back to my original question. I believe there's one other suitor in your past?" "Ralph Innes. He was a Ravenclaw Prefect. But we only had one date," Hermione quickly added. "He was nice, good-looking, intelligent. I told Harry once that he didn't seem organized enough." Greg chuckled. "But I think it was more that he…well, that's not right. He did have goals; he was planning to become an Auror. He's in training now in London. I don't know…he seemed too…too much like every other guy." "Ah, so now we're on to something," Greg beamed. "You don't like the pretty boys, we know that from movie nights. You prefer men who are at least a few years older…wait a minute. Tell me you're not holding out for a professor." Hermione blanched. "Ah, that's it, isn't it!" Greg laughed. "It's…wait a minute…it's not O'Brien or…wait…maybe it is! It's Grant, isn't it? Edward Grant, your Potions Master?" At words "Potions Master," Hermione's eyes flew wide. Greg laughed out loud. "No wonder you're working so hard on your own project. You want to get in good with the Potions Master!" Hermione frowned at him. "Greg, I am most definitely not interested in Professor Grant."
Luckily, Greg let the subject go (and hadn't told Bill about his Potions Master crack--Bill would have driven it into the ground). Hermione knew that he had only been joking, lightening the mood after her serious talk about the men in her life. But he had come a little too close for comfort. Hermione often thought of Snape as she worked on Cruciatus. That she could understand; they'd worked closely on the preliminary experiments, and she would of course wonder what he'd have to say about her efforts now. She refrained from writing him more than once or twice a month, since she knew he was busy--with school, and with whatever ongoing plans Dumbledore had for him in the defense against Voldemort. She tried not to think about the danger he might be in, spying against Death Eaters as he must still be doing. But between work and worry, she still couldn't account for all of her thoughts about him. She missed him. Still understandable, she told herself, because they had spent so much time together her last year at school--but why did he come to mind when she tried to explain to Greg and Bill why she wasn't interested in Russell Meredith? Why did she think of him any time the conversation turned to men? And with Greg and Bill around, that was a daily topic. They both wanted to see her with somebody nice. They adored her, and criticized the straight men of Mywoods for not doing the same. Hermione told herself that she was too smart--intimidatingly smart--and that was the reason that Mywoods men didn't ask her out. Besides, she didn't have time. But…Snape…had never minded that she was smart…. "He was your teacher, Granger!" she said out loud, and rolled roughly over to her other side. Crookshanks, in his customary place between the pillow and the edge of the bed, sighed.
Her letters were always brief, always focused on business. She never wrote to him with the sorts of things she put in her letters to McGonagall. But then, she wouldn't. Of course, Professor McGonagall was all too happy to read the news from Miss Granger to the other professors in the staff room. Snape had smiled to himself at the general response to Hermione's note that she loved all of her classes, but Potions most of all. And he suspected McGonagall had edited out something about Binns in Hermione's descriptions of her professors. He had just picked up his quill to write an answer about the substitution he had made to the solution in question when the door to his office opened, revealing Professor Dumbledore. He was, of course, the only person at Hogwarts who would (or could) enter Snape's office without knocking first. "Headmaster. Please, come in," Snape said, and motioned to the only other chair in the room. "Thank you, Severus," replied Dumbledore. "But I'm only here for a moment. I have reason to believe that…the move we've been waiting for will be coming in the next two weeks--maybe in the next week." There was silence for a moment. Dumbledore continued, "Should we be worried that they haven't contacted you yet?" The Headmaster didn't say what was on both their minds: that there was a chance Voldemort didn't trust Snape any longer. Since the night of the Death Eater raid at Hogsmeade in March, Snape hadn't been called--and that was longer than he'd ever been left to his own devices. "They will call," Snape said, biting off the words. "Regardless of the Dark Lord's…faith…in me, or lack thereof, he will call. I am, after all, close to you, and he will want to see what I will tell him of your preparations, of what you know…whether he believes me or not." Snape knew that Voldemort would most likely cast Cruciatus on him in an effort to weed out truth from lie. His mind flickered to…and then he had control of his thoughts again. Dumbledore studied the face of the Potions Master. He knew of the torture, of the nights Severus spent wracked with pain, physical as well as mental, never telling anybody. He decided not to breach that barrier. "Severus," he said instead, "you will let me know what I can do for you." "Of course, Headmaster," Severus replied, not looking into the kindly face. "And I expect that Voldemort will call me to his side at the last minute. His attempt to keep me in the dark…" his eyebrow twitched at the ironic turn of phrase, "may well give us a hint as to when he will move." "And then we will move as well," Dumbledore assented, and left Snape sitting alone in the cold office.
A/N: Pawn to Queen gave me the thought that Viktor's parents might not approve of his relationship with Hermione, and Sphinx is the one, in her Decoding of the Heart, who most elegantly gives the argument (via a great exchange between Snape and Hermione) that the Weasley men's expectations for their women might not suit Hermione. Also, repeating a note from the last chapter, while DVD players (and the first DVD release of Silence of the Lambs) were available by fall 1997, Gone With the Wind wasn't actually released on DVD until 1998. Either I fudged a bit, or Bill got his hands on a bootleg….
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