Not Yet (A Hermione Granger fanfic)

Chapter 12

"What was that all about?" Hermione asks as she walks back into camp.

"The two of you, talking about a dragon like it's a pet rabbit." Orev is leaning over his potion again. He smirks then looks over at Hermione.

But Hermione is determined to figure him out. Orev seems to delight in letting her know he has a secret while refusing to reveal it. Apparently he enjoys irritating people and making them cross. Which only makes Hermione more irritated and more cross when she thinks about it.

"You seemed willing to tell Charlie Weasley an awful lot about what you were doing," Orev says. "I thought you didn't want anyone to know?"

Hermione shrugs. She didn't, either. Everything just sort of spilled out of her before she could stop it, like trying to hold water in the palm of her hand. In retrospect, she regrets it a little. But at least Charlie is going to find out more about the man standing in front of her.

"So is your name Orev Snape?" she asks, wanting to turn the conversation from herself.

"You want to know if my last name is Snape—so you can tell Charlie Weasley?"

"Oh come off it, I'm just curious about who I'm trusting my life to. That doesn't seem like such a bad thing."

"You are correct: it's not."

Orev stirs the potion another turn and then leaves the cauldron. "It needs to be left alone the rest of the day. But I'm not willing to just walk off and leave it. Why don't we plan our next step?"

"You mean you're still going to help me if this potion works?"

"That is part of the deal, Wren." He pulls a map from his robes and goes to sit down in his wooden chair.

Hermione goes to sit beside him in her own chair. The afternoon is warm, and the chairs are too close to the fire. Without thought, she pulls off her robes and lets them drape around her in the chair. She's wearing another pair of leggings (jeans are always too hot beneath robes) and a long shirt underneath. She's not wearing a bra because of her wound.

Orev stares at her at her for a half-moment then looks away.

"What?" she says. A quick glance down to make sure she's not all nipple-y or anything embarrassing. Nope, she's good.

"I didn't say anything," Orev says.

"But you're thinking it. Go on, then."

He looks at her again. "Most older witches and wizards who grew up as such don't wear Muggle clothes underneath their robes. You know this, right?"

Hermione smirks. "Is that an insult about my status as a Muggleborn?"

"No, I don't care about that."

"Well why bring it up?"

Orev shrugs. "Just an observation."

"I tried it years ago."

"And?"

"I don't feel quite dressed when I'm just wearing robes."

"Ah," is all he says. He looks amused again, enjoying some private joke at her expense, no doubt.

"You didn't answer my question about your name."

Orev cocks an eyebrow.

"Just an observation."

"And I don't mean to answer it. Do you want to catch this wizard or not?"

She does, and they spend the next few hours plotting locations on the map. Orev already knows the locations of most of the higher caves, and he draws routes from each one to the next. The potion bubbles in front of them. As they sit, the afternoon sun falls downward in the sky, finally sinking behind the mountains. The air turns cooler, and Hermione pulls her robes back around her before getting up to make some tea.