Snape wanted to fling his glass of fire-whisky into the fireplace. What must she think of him? Ari had teased him to no end about the young girl in his quarters, touching his precious books. But he'd made her shut up, hadn't he.
Snape smirked as he remembered the flair of hatred that had bloomed in Ari's blue eyes.
Poor Miss Granger. He shouldn't really have put her in Ari's line of fire... but....
The girl had saved his life; she had found the Second Breath Elixir in his rooms and fed it to him.
Was it her fault that he saw her in that stupid goddess's mirror? Was it her fault she saw him?
Severus let his head fall into his hand.
Stupid girls.
Freja, goddess of love...HA! What did she know? Lonely silly tart that she was. Nordic gods were useless, they were even mortals... if hadn't it been for those damn apples of longevity...
He shook his head, what was the use to blame a nearly extinct religion?
The problem was his old time enemy: Love.
Love. He had no wish to be dragged in to its clutches again. Last time it had abandoned him, married his most hated bully, yet made him risk his life for seventeen years and nearly resulted in his death. No. Love could stuff it for all Severus cared.
Not that he was in love now, but females, the mirror, plus a ball could very well drag him in a catastrophe that centred on that old wretched emotion.
Ari and her bottled up emotions and her stupid pride.
Miss Granger with her messed up emotion and her annoying innocence.
Minerva and her mirror-game and her insufferable Ball.
Yes, females were entangling his life again, and the result could only be a disaster.
Severus's eyes reflected the dancing flames.
He had an undesirable urge to look in to that mirror again. To see a girl wanting him. The images from his dreams of the little brunette danced in the fire.
How ridiculous he was, an old man looking at her, wanting such a precious rose.
Severus could picture Ari's response if she knew how right she had been about the head-girl. Even so, he couldn't shake those brown eyes out of his mind, the curving of her lips, the scent of her hair.
He tore himself out of his armchair and flung his glass into the fire.
It blazed, and the images that had danced in it disappeared.
He promised himself that this silliness would end tonight. He would never entertain thoughts like these ever again!
"His room was a compete mess? I don't believe it!" Ron said happily, with half a toast in his mouth. He shouldn't really have it. They were walking off to class and him being a prefect and all.... But Hermione let it pass this once.
"Yes, it is quite a surprise. He seems to enjoy order to the extreme," she said smiling.
"Positively fascistly if you ask me," Harry agreed.
"Truly," Ron agreed. "So what did the evil old zombie do when you were sorting his books?"
Hermione wasn't sure if she even wanted to talk about Miss Winter even if she would be allowed to. She instinctively didn't like her. Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that the woman was interfering on her turf for some reason. Odd really. Snape wasn't hers. She didn't want Snape. Yet she knew she didn't want the Ari woman to have him. The feeling that Snape was hers yet not wanting him would give her a headache. It had last night. She had barely slept, and just kept thinking of him seeing her and wondering why she felt that Ari were interfering with something she didn't want.
"He was mostly looking for a book he had misplaced. No wonder considering the mess of books and papers."
Ron nodded. Harry had stopped listening, and they walked on.
"When's the mailbox finished?" Harry asked "'Cause I was kind of wondering if it works with in-school, too." Hermione rolled her eyes at the boy-who-had-faced-voldemort-but-didn't-dare-face-a-girl.
"Why won't you just ask Ginny. She'd be delighted you know."
Harry squirmed.
Hermione sighed. "Yes, the mailbox will work inside school, too. Malfoy's putting it up as we speak."
"Good," the boys echoed, one relived and one excited.
Draco wasn't actually putting up the mailbox as they spoke, but he was just about to... or soon in any case.
He was, however, standing with Greg, Daphne and Pansy, talking just a few steps from where he had intended to put up the box.
"I can't believe you're so mean," Pansy said and laughed.
"I wished I could have been there to see their faces," Greg chuckled in his low voice.
"Well what can I say, I just love seeing them squirm," Draco shrugged.
Then he turned to Daphne who hadn't said anything for a while. She looked intently at him.
"You know it's kind of weird....You know who our soul mates are," she grimaced at the last words. "But you haven't given us one hint at who you see."
Draco's gleeful smile faded.
"Yeah, Drake," Pansy said giving him a quizzical look. "Why is that?"
He tried to look just as unperturbed as usual. "Maybe you don't know the person."
"Really?" Daphne continued but didn't look convinced; Draco recalled why he didn't associate too readily with the Greengrass girls- they thought too much. "If you didn't know who it was you wouldn't care, and you'd have described her to us by know. We all told you, 'fess up Malfoy. What are you so ashamed about?"
"Maybe she's butt ugly!" Greg laughed
"Or maybe there is something really embarrassing about her." Pansy smiled.
"Can't be that bad," Daphne sneered.
"It is." Draco thought, but smiled. "We'll never know, but I need to put this thing up now," he smiled and gestured to the box.
He saw Daphne's eyes sparkle.
Draco mentally shook himself. This mirror thing was getting too complicated. Professor Snape was right, they should cancel the whole thing.
As he started to walk over to the chosen wall, he saw someone who made him smile inwardly. Seamus Finnegan. This was his chance.
The Gryffindor was walking by himself and reading a book.
Draco glanced over at his so-called friends, then he whistled over at Finnegan.
The boy looked up and saw him. Finnegan's face darkened.
"What do ye want Malfoy."
"As head-boy I order you to help me with this," he said. It was a stupid excuse but as good as any.
Finnegan grumbled and walked over.
"Hold it in place, and I'll fasten it," Draco ordered.
"You could just have levitated it, then fastened it. Why do you need me?"
"Well, Finnegan. That's for me to know and you to guess...oh move it a little higher. No lower. To the right. Higher. More to the right... no, left! There. Hold it steady." Oh, how fun to torment Gryffindors. "So Finnegan are you going to the dance?" Draco asked, as he pretended to look for something in his bag. Seamus Finnegan stood in a most uncomfortable position and the strains were making his face red.
"NO!" he said. "Hurry up will you."
"Awww, come on Finnegan, you have to go, we're counting on you."
"Fuck you Malfoy and fasten the damn box."
Draco smiled. "Oh, soon. What's your favourite colour?"
"For fuck sake, stop being such an arse and fasten the damn thing!" Finnegan shouted. Draco shook his head smiling
"Since you ask so politely, it's so hard to say no to you Finnegan." He gave the Gryffindor his best mocking smile and fastened the box.
"Do me a favour Malfoy and drop dead!" Finnegan said as he straightened up. "Oh and I hope your friends enjoyed the show." He finished sarcastically.
Draco turned and saw the three of his friend looking at him. He smiled at them and walked away feeling their eyes following him. At least the damn box was up and could pester everyone's life now, and not just his. He'd have to remember to curse that idiot Thomas for coming up with this whole ball thing in the first place.
Hermione looked the elderly woman in the face. She used to be so stern, these days she seemed to do nothing but smile. Was she truly turning in to Dumbledore?
"And the mailbox is up now, correct?" McGonagall asked.
"Yes, Professor. It's up and we have taken many precautions so that it is impossible to invite muggles and so on."
"Good. Very good," McGonagall said and flicked through some papers.
"As we are on the subject Professor, I think it's unfair for those who's partners are unknown or not there to be forced to dance."
"Tish-tosh girl, it's just one dance." Did McGonagall just say tish-tosh? Was the world ending or was the headmistress slowly going insane? Well, if the headmistress wouldn't listen to reason, then truth might do the trick.
"It's a long dance Ma'am and there are people who would rather not dance with the person in their reflection." Now McGonagall looked up and removed her glasses.
"Not too happy with your soul's choice?"
"No. And I know I am far from the only one." She looked steadily in to the older woman's eyes. This might just work!
"That's too bad, my girl." Minerva said softly. "Because the person pictured to you in my mirror is the person your soul loves."
Hermione stared at the headmistress. "That's a lie! I don't love him!"
"I didn't say you did, my dear" Minerva continued and, to Hermione's horror, took out the hated thing and showed Snape to her again. "He who is pictured in here is not as they say the one. Freja did not believe that there was only one out there for each of us, but this is the person who's soul's heart matches your own; you are not destined for each other. This person in here is just who your soul loves, and you can count on it that his soul loves yours back."
Hermione only stared at the professor sitting at his desk. He wasn't that handsome in real life. But even so she saw no difference between him in there and the man who pulled her out of the staircase. But he was definitely more handsome in the mirror.
McGonagall lowered the mirror.
"He is very handsome, is he not?"
"In there he is," Hermione grumbled.
"That's how you'd see him if you'd look at him with loving eyes."
Hermione's mouth fell open.
"Close that mouth. The ball is going to happen, you will dance with this boy if he shows at the dance, and that's the end of that."
Damn, Hermione had to be there because she was one of the arrangers, and Professor Snape was a teacher and had to be there as well. Minerva was just as stern as before, but now it was wrapped under a smiling face.
Hermione's heart sank, but she nodded.
"Good girl. Stop sulking. I am sure your soul doesn't have that bad judgment."
"Yes it has," the younger girl thought, then an idea struck her.
"In any case, Professor Snape thinks it's a bad idea and wants this dance cancelled."
"HA!" McGonagall laughed "So it's Severus who's put you up to this! Well you go down there and tell him that there is no chance I'll stop this dance now. Oh, and would you give him this?"
Hermione took the outstretched parcel and nodded. She did not want to meet the professor now, not after what the headmistress had said. But what choice did she have?
It took her some time to find the door to his chambers. Damn labyrinth dungeons.
She knocked at the door and waited.
Nothing happened, so she knocked again. School was over, so he had to be in.
At her third knock, he opened the door.
"WHAT?!" he roared and flung the door open; it only missed her by half an inch.
Hermione looked up at the tall professor.
He was wet, the long hair plastered along his pale body. He had a light blue towel around his waist. Other than that he was naked.
"It's you. What do you want?"
She handed the parcel to him and he took it with out a word.
"Are you quite finished with staring at my body, Granger? I have a shower to finish."
Always so rude. Like she enjoyed looking at his pale and somewhat scarred torso.
"Didn't know you took showers, sir." She mumbled as she turned away.
She felt a hand grip her collar and drag her back to the door.
Snape held her two inches from his face.
"Don't push your luck girl, just because some goddess thinks we make a good couple doesn't mean you can drop your respect for your teachers!" he hissed at her between gritted teeth.
It had to be a lie; her soul could not love this mean monster.
He let her go.
"You give me one more of those big eyed looks Granger and I'll rip out your eyes."
"I...I...What?"
"Do you want another detention?"
She tripped over her feet to get out of there.