Witch Hunt

13

There was a tense silence as she sat on the edge of her seat. He was staring at her still, something heavy and fiery in his eyes. Dark, dark eyes of ebony.

Again, she had the peculiar feeling of being hunted. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, gooseflesh rising on her arms. Though, once more, she did not feel the slightest bit in danger. Oddly enough, it was not an unpleasant feeling. Her heartbeat sped up, and she took a deep breath to settle her nerves.

All he had done was look at her.

She had taken to looking into the damned law once she returned to the Burrow with Harry and Ginny. She had written to the Ministry, demanding a fully detailed written copy, as well as an example of the marriage contract. Upon further inspection, she realised that there had indeed been some sort of logic behind the pairing of wixen. At first, she had been put off by the knowledge that she could be at all matched with such a horrible man. They could not possibly have anything in common at all. Though, upon rereading their correspondence, thinking back on their conversation, she could understand better.

Hermione had decided she would get to know the man before her. Though, she still had her reservations, of course. She did not want the Weasleys nor Harry getting involved. She wanted to hide her marriage for as long as she could. At least, until she liked him enough to be seen publicly with him.

Besides, she had always been curious about the man. He was unapproachable as far as anyone knew, exceedingly private. He had sworn his life to a dead woman and lived beneath the thumbs of two of the most powerful wizards in modern history. And still, for some reason, the man worked in a school. Obviously, he did not particularly enjoy teaching, taking to bullying his students and demanding of them an impossible standard of excellence.

He was a perfectionist, an academic, he enjoyed a good challenge, he was always in search of a new book.

Perhaps they had more in common than she thought.

Her eyes trailed to his mouth, reminded of the match requirements again. Sexually compatible. Hermione had very little experience in that field and wondered if he had meant it when he said he would teach her a great many more things still. She could not deny there was some attraction, though she was not certain if it was because of his brilliance. Was it physical? Carnal? Or was it his mind that appealed to her? She supposed it was the latter.

Though, her mind wandered to what it might be like to kiss him. A girlish thought, though it ate at her all the same. Would he even want to kiss her?

His former student. Best friend of a boy he had spent all too many years trying to keep out of trouble. A girl who had run from him so she could avoid marriage. Avoid a life with him. A life alongside one of her most hated teachers. Second only to the pink toad.

His fingers were still steepled beneath his nose as he watched her carefully, trying to get a read on her. She had the strange feeling he was looking right through her. Something nudged her thought ever so gently and she remembered with a start, dread icing her spine, that he was a Legilimens. And a damned good one. She had forgotten.

A knowing look flashed in his eyes as a devilish smile crept along his lips. He said nothing, though he did not have to.

Hermione's mouth went dry. "How much did you see?" She asked hurriedly, the blood draining from her face. She felt faint.

He shrugged, his hands coming to grip the armrests as he sat up. Long, pale fingers turning white at the knuckle as he tightened his hold. "Enough." He stated, his voice hard.

Gods, he was unhappy with her now. Wasn't he?

He stood, looking down at her. "I have an errand to run. Make yourself comfortable."