I Didn't Know Snape Had a Secret Chamber

"I don't CARE what you say!" Hermione yelled into the fireplace, staring straight ahead. Harry and Ron had never seen her this angry before. She resembled McGonagall a bit, and it was rather frightening. In the fireplace of Gryffindor Common Room, two very severe looking people with big, bushy masses for hair and rather large teeth were torrid.

Hermione sorely regretted the time she showed her parents how to travel by Floo Powder. She even more so regretted hooking up their fireplace to the Network, so that she could stop by anytime she felt particularly homesick, or if there was a family emergency.

Harry cocked his head towards Ron, who seemed to be enjoying this row very much, indeed. This was the seventh (yes, they had counted) argument Hermione had with her parents over the last two weeks. It was only about one thing, as it could only be about one thing: Viktor Krum.

"And while we're on the subject," scowled Martin Granger, "didn't we specifically tell you not to shrink your teeth via magic?" Hermione rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue. Yes, Harry did have to agree with Ron. This was rather sidesplitting.

"I don't understand why you're getting so upset," Hermione mumbled, picking up Crookshanks and setting him into his cage. By now, all of what was left in the Common Room had suddenly dismissed their homework, leisure reading, and wizard chess to watch the fight.

"Blimey, they don't stop!" Seamus whispered.

"Tell me about it, third time this week alone, mate," Dean had whispered back.

Louise Granger was lecturing her daughter about what times were like when she was Hermione's age, and everyone groaned. "Oh, not this again," they all muttered. They could recite the speech to themselves, having heard it so many times -- "when I was fourteen, I used to go home straight away everyday after school and bake cookies with my mum..."

"...And then we'd wait until my father got home and we'd eat them," Hermione finished. "Look. Why can't I have a boyfriend? He's a really nice boy, honest. He's smart and successful -- "

"While he may be just that," Louise said, "he certainly does have a rather atrocious nose. I can prescribe a cosmetic surgeon, I know plenty of doctors -- "

"There's nothing wrong with his nose," she said, furiously. "Look, we're not having this discussion, anymore, okay? I won't be home for Christmas or Easter, so I guess I'll see you in June," and with that, Hermione snapped her fingers and the fire was put out. The Gryffindors could hear the distant wails of Muggles sliding down the Network back to their home.

Everyone silently dared each other to speak first, but no one was brave enough to take them up upon their wager. (Not even Gryffindors were so chivalrous to get in the way of Hermione's warpath these days.) "Um, Hermione?" Ron squeaked. Ron had been squeaking a lot lately, being in the progress of a battle with puberty that he was slowly losing. This time, he was sure it wasn't from his rapid peak of adolescence.

"Bug off," Hermione exclaimed. "I'm going to bed."

She did go somewhere, but it certainly wasn't to bed. No, before she did retire for the night, she decided to go for a little walk. By chance, she might meet someone she'd been happening to see. A certain Quidditch playing, Durmstrang attending, Bulgarian someone, I daresay?

Hermione dashed up the stairs into the boys dormitory, muttered, "Accio Invisibility Cloak!" and ran.

"Good evening, Her-mo-ninny," said a voice behind her. She had long given up wearing the Invisibility cloak; Filch had stopped patrolling hours ago. Hermione spun around, excited. And while she did see a Quidditch player in front of her, and he could have attended Durmstrang, he wasn't the one Hermione had been so keen on seeing.

She blinked. "And what honor does this meeting bestow upon me, Draco?" She said simply. She wondered why he was out of bed so late. Surely, he'd be in trouble, if caught. Well, isn't that dandy, YOU can get into trouble as well, she reminded herself.

"Oh, shove it, Mudblood," he said. Not evilly, but just...bored. He fingered the stone wall that had one of the many torches bolted into it. He looked at her lazily, and noticed the cloak hanging limply on her arm.

"Why not wear it, then, if you're travelling?" he sneered. "Man, I thought you were smarter then that, Granger."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Never you mind, Malfoy. And if you're so clever, surely, you should have an Invisibility cloak as well, since we obviously share the same love for walking around after-hours."

That got him. He opened his mouth, ready to give a Malfoy-esque reply, but then quickly closed it. "Sod off, Granger," he mumbled. "Krum isn't coming. He sleeps in my dormitory, you know. And that's exactly what he's doing as we speak -- Sleeping."

Hermione scowled. "How did you know?" she asked, jamming the cloak back on her head, ready for the journey back to Gryffindor Tower. Malfoy chuckled.

"Really, Granger, I'm not as thick as Crabbe and Goyle -- "

"Hmm. 'As' and 'thick' are the operative words -- "

He let that one pass. "You really think anyone else is interested in seeing you romantically, Granger? The only reason that foul, bigheaded, crooked-nose, wannabe Quidditch player is seeing you is because he needs a companion that is as, or more then, homely as him."

"Expelliarmus!" Hermione shouted, and at the same exact time, Draco did too. Both wands flew down the corridors.

"Oh, well isn't this all Honeydukes and Zonko's, Mudblood," he muttered. "Look what you did." He snatched the Invisibility cloak from her, and draped it around his head so that it covered both of them.

Hermione gaped. "What I did? Seriously, are you on something?" Then she realized, she was sharing Harry's cloak with Draco Malfoy. "Do you mind?" She asked, making a grab for the hem of the cloak. "Why are you sharing it with me, no less?"

"Oh, yes, Granger, your pseudo-brilliance is at it again. You see, while there are so many other people walking around after-hours, I chose to share this cloak -- which, ha!-- can conceal our identities, with you and you alone, out of the goodness of my heart."

She sighed. "Whatever, Draco," she gave up ruefully.

"Oh, gosh. Is the Girl-Who-Never-Shuts-Up suddenly at a lost for words? I can't believe, ouch -- !" But Hermione never found out what Draco didn't believe. He had stumbled over something, and pulling the cloak with him, she was forced to stumble as well.

"It's our wands," she said simply. Then she chuckled.

"What's so funny, Mudblood?" Draco asked, retrieving his wand and then getting up.

"Oh, nothing," Hermione mused, "while I may be uh, academically challenged in your perspective, at least I'm not blind."

Draco seethed. "Come on, let's get going, Granger." He waited (rather impatiently) as she picked up her wand. He turned left towards Slytherin Tower and she turned right to Gryffindor Tower.

"Dandy. Who's taking the cloak?" He thought out loud.

"As it belongs to my best friend, and your mortal enemy," Hermione sniggered, "a logical person would make the assumption that I'm taking it back."

Draco let out a long, melodramatic sigh that Hermione somehow knew he perfected when summoning a servant in that little mansion of his. "We know what happens when we assume, Granger."

"Yes, I'm aware of that warning phrase, and I'm afraid we both are the end result once you take the time out to investigate the syllables of that word."

"How do you figure?" he asked, clearly interested.

"You are an ass by birth and I'm an ass for talking to you for this long," she replied, simply. "I tell you what," she added quickly, as Draco looked beyond furious, "we'll both use it."

Blank stare from Draco.

"I'll walk you back to your Tower, and then I'll use the cloak to go back to mine and put it back nicely where I found it," Hermione beamed at the idea.

"And your brilliance is back again," Draco sneered.

"Hmm," Hermione mused. "So it is."