The Herald

3

So many damned cameras.

The flashes were assaulting her eyes as she walked into the Great Hall on Draco's arm. He'd eagerly taken up her offer, wanting any excuse to offend his parents. Then, to really drive his point, he'd insisted they wear matching green. Hermione had opted for a short, backless dress in a warm, dark, emerald. The blonde had worn matching dress robes, his a high-quality velvet.

She'd all but walked across the threshold before being hounded by journalists with their quick notes quills, and bloodthirsty stares. Every last one of them wanting to get the first word on the topic.

"Miss Granger, a quick word?"

"Miss Granger, how are you feeling about the Headmaster's marriage?"

"Miss Granger, a quote for the paper?"

She turned to the last witch, coming face to face with the beetle herself. "A quote?" she asked. "Sure. Sod off, Skeeter. I can still report you for being an unregistered animagus, you know,"

The woman took a step back, her quill furiously scratching away at that miserable notepad. Hermione's wand had only just slid into her hand when a lower voice startled her from her rage. A voice she'd recognise anywhere. "Already causing a scene. Miss Granger?" He purred. "You've only just arrived,"

Hermione spun around quickly, grabbing her companion's arm as she wobbled. She briefly wondered if he knew the effect his voice had before scowling at him. "Sir," she bit out.

Draco stuck out his hand courteously, ignoring her reaction to the Potions' Master. "Uncle, always a pleasure,"

Snape shook his hand, watching as his godson snaked an arm around Hermione. She reached out as well, surprised when he dipped his head to brush his lips across her knuckles. She swallowed thickly, shuddering beneath his gaze as he locked his eyes on hers. She couldn't look away. Those dark, dark eyes she so easily got lost in.

She was interrupted, however, by someone clearing their throat, announcing their presence. Snape looked away first, looking down at his new bride. "There you are, I was wondering where you had gone off to," he said lightly, tucking away a stray lock of hair from her face.

She smiled at him, turning to the two newcomers, her smile fading. "I had to tend to Rita. She was quite out of sorts. Something about a threat," The brunette eyed her husband's former student. "Hermione Granger, no less, I don't believe we've had the chance to meet,"

She didn't bother putting out her hand. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with her. Cow.

Hermione bowed her head gracefully, controlling her anger. Her voice was careful and measured as she spoke, her facial expression eerily unreadable. A necessary social skill Severus had helped her learn. It simply wouldn't do to constantly fly off the handle, would it? "Madam Snape,"

The older witch smirked, leaning into the Potions' Master. "Yes, I am, aren't I?"

The man shot her a glare, that she pointedly ignored. She was still staring down the former Gryffindor. Her chestnut eyes narrowing at Draco's hand on her waist. Interesting.

Snape sighed, shaking his head. "Enough, Eilonwy," he said sternly. "Leave her be."

His tone was so final, she would have had to be mad to argue. And she didn't. She offered him a tight-lipped smile and ducked her head. "Yes, sir."

Hermione and Draco exchanged a startled look. What the bloody hell just happened?

Sending her on her way, the Headmaster waited until she was out of earshot before speaking. "I am pleasantly surprised you both came tonight," he said, not unkindly. "I had not been expecting either of you to attend, let alone together,"