Something in the Air

Harry was picking at his food in the Great Hall sheepishly, under the watchful gaze of Hermione. She was beginning to be reminiscent of a hawk watching its prey carefully for the opportune moment to snap its neck and eat it. However, he doubted that she was going to eat him.

He looked every now and then to the Slytherin table, where, he noticed, Sasha was sitting, apart from the rest of the Slytherins, ravenously eating a bowl of rice. She looked up, her mouth full, and he had to laugh. She looked like a chipmunk with its cheeks full of nuts, and it was hysterical.

Hermione glared at him, and he pretended to be laughing at Ron, who was making a rather odd face at him. Actually, looking at Ron made him laugh harder, and Hermione no longer looked absolutely beyond pissed off.

However, he continued to watch Sasha, and she looked up at him every now and then, and smiled when she could. But before long, she got up from the table and left the Great Hall, winking at him as she left.

Harry couldn't help himself. He laid down his spoon, told Hermione and Ron that that he was going to go back to the common room, because his stomach wasn't feeling well, when, in actuality, he was going to try to find the Slytherin House, and try to get in.

He got up from the table, and walked out of the Great Hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone waiting outside the doors. He looked that way, and saw Sasha standing there.

"How'd you know I'd leave?" Harry asked her.

"I just knew," she replied coyly. "Wanna go out?"

"Huh?" Harry said. "

"Wanna get out of here?" she clarified. "We'll go to a bar, not get drunk, that kind of thing."

"Why not get drunk?" Harry asked stupidly.

"Because Draco would get suspicious if I came back totally wasted?" she answered. "Besides, even with a sober-up charm, I'd still have a hangover, and he and I are supposed to be going out tonight, so that totally wouldn't work."

"What have the two of you been doing lately?" Harry wondered aloud. "You weren't at supper last night, you weren't at breakfast, and he wasn't at the Quidditch scrimmage this morning at eight. Blaise Zabini had to be captain."
Sasha's face locked. What was she going to tell Harry? We were having sex until the wee hours of the morning? As. If. "Ummm....we were....um...hanging out..." Sasha lied. Butt naked. Yeah, add that her conscience told her.

"Naked?" Harry read her mind.

"Perhaps," Sasha replied.

"Sasha," Harry said accusatorily, cocking his head to the side.

"Okay fine," Sasha rasped. "Just take a guess. Honestly, it's not that hard."

"You're bluffing. You were hanging out with Pansy all night, I'll bet," Harry guessed, looking absolutely serious. Sasha was disgusted.

"Dear Lord, boy!" Sasha exclaimed. "How freaking slow are you??"

Harry shrunk back. "You mean I was right?"

"No!" Sasha yelled. "You are absolutely and disgustingly WRONG! Pansy is like, the devil's spawn. I hate her. So. Much. She's stupid and ugly and a wannabe and a poseur. If you must know, I was having sex with my boyfriend. If you even know what that means..."

"I do TOO know what that means!" Harry defended. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Sasha said in a mocking tone. "God."
Harry looked at the floor. He hadn't expected Sasha to be that...honest. He expected her to be like Draco in every way, which meant lying to get what he wanted. Sasha's style, however, it appeared, was looking like brutal honesty.

"Why are you so honest?" he ventured.

"The truth hurts," Sasha said. "But lies hurt worse. I'm not a mean old liar. I'm just brutally honest."
"Which is almost worse than being a mean old liar," Harry said.

"Truth is my best weapon," Sasha said. "And that, my dear, is why Draco loves me so much. It's because, in public, I'm brutally honest, make people cry, that sort of thing. But in private, I'm tough like warm butter."

Harry laughed at Sasha briefly. He couldn't imagine her being sensitive or anything, because, he supposed, he'd only been exposed to her absolutely terrible, mean side.

"What do you suppose other people see me as?" Harry asked her.

"You are like a fucking doormat," Sasha said bluntly. "People walk all over you. You're so innocent, it pisses us off sometimes. Slytherins, I mean."

Harry rolled his eyes at her.

"Yeah, don't even do that," Sasha said. "I do that too much for you to do that."

"Whatever," Harry said. "So, what do you want to do?"

Sasha was looking around, until finally her eyes widened and she flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"Fuck," she said. "Draco."

"What?" Harry asked, following her gaze. Sure enough, he could just make out a silver-blond head rising from the staircase. "Pretend to be harassing me or something."

"Never gonna work," Sasha said. "He knows I wouldn't waste my time on you unless you walked into the trap."

"Then what?" Harry whispered frantically.

"Grab my ass or something," Sasha said. Noticing the look he was giving her, she sighed. "Just do it. I'll tell you when."

She started walking towards the staircase, gesturing for him to follow her. As soon as Draco's face came into view, she gave him the good-to-go look. He came up behind her, and, as instructed, grabbed Sasha's butt.

Draco looked stunned. And then confused. But that quickly morphed into a livid glare.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Potter?" Draco snapped, two blotches of maroon appearing on his cheekbones.

"Uh..." Harry said, dumbstruck. She was trying to kill him! "Uh..."

"Nobody manhandles my girlfriend, you fucking ass-grabber!" Draco shrieked, and the last thing Harry could remember was a sharp pain in his mouth, shortly followed by an even sharper pain in the back of his head.

Then, he heard Sasha say something to Draco, and felt her sneaker make strong contact with his crotch. And that's when he fainted.

***

Sasha felt only vaguely guilty for physically hurting Harry. However, it meant that Draco was pissed off, and when Draco got pissed off, he also got wicked turned on.

Once they got to the bottom of the staircase and got to the entrance to Slytherin House, Sasha grabbed Draco's hand and dragged him to the Prefect's bathroom, and walked in. It was empty, as she'd hoped, and she slammed the door behind them, and cast a locking charm at it.

She looked into Draco's beautiful slate-colored eyes and smiled, biting her lip. He returned the grin, and slipped his hands into the back pockets of her jeans. Sasha nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. She loved him too much to let him go.

"I love you," she said, knowing there weren't any mirrors nearby.

"I want you," he replied huskily. She looked concernedly into his eyes, summoning fake tears to her eyes. "Because I love you."

"That's better," she said, like a teacher correcting a student.

"Let's take a bath," Draco suggested eagerly.

"Only if I get to wash your hair," Sasha replied, like a child.

"Of course," Draco replied, knowing that if he refused, he wouldn't be getting any action for a very long time. Nimbly and gently, he gripped the hem of her Slytherin t-shirt and gently pulled it over her head. She smiled and cooperated. He tossed her shirt behind him, and before he could continue, she stopped him. Sasha flicked her wand and instantly two beer bottles were in her hands. She took one of them, and brought the cap to his belt buckle. Sasha angled it just so, and expertly flicked the cap off.

"I love when you use that as a bottle opener," Draco breathed, a pleasant chill running up and down his spine.

Sasha didn't speak; she only slipped his belt from the loops on his jeans. He set to work on her bra, and soon, as they'd been that morning, was clad only in their wondrous flesh.

Draco pulled her close to him, and Sasha was kind of uncomfortable. She didn't exactly like the feeling of naked bodies pressed together, but she couldn't care less. She loved Draco, and that was all that mattered.

She pulled away from him, keeping his thin hands pressed into hers. Sasha led him to the enormous bath, and led him down the steps, the warm water caressing her bare skin.

They kissed for a while before they heard something in the corridor outside the door. Horrified, Sasha realized who it was before Draco realized it. The handle on the door turned as it unlocked, and both teens, struck still with shock, did nothing to cover themselves in their lovely flesh.

And then into the prefect's bathroom walked Professor Severus Snape.

***

Harry eventually woke up in the infirmary, Hermione by his side, clutching his hand in hers.

"Finally, you're awake!" she exclaimed. "Oh, Harry, what happened? Please tell me!"

"Draco punched me," Harry groaned. Milliseconds later, he realized his mistake: he'd told the truth.

"Why would he do that?" Hermione asked, looking confused something Harry didn't ever remember happening before.

"Because...he's a wanker?" Harry moaned. Perfect answer. Hermione would buy it.

"True..." Hermione said. "Feel better," she said, and kissed his cheek briskly. With that, she walked out of the infirmary, the heavy doors shutting silently behind her.

***

Hermione walked down the corridors, and a chill ran up and down her spine. She blinked her eyes quickly, and then walked down to the Main Entrance Hall. Not knowing what to do, she let her feet take her wherever they wanted to. They lead her down the stone staircase to the dungeons.

She walked past the Prefect's bathroom. From within, she heard screams and desperate pleading, followed by an all-too-familiar man's voice.

Carefully, Hermione pushed open the door, only enough to see the inside of the bathroom. Inside, the scene played out before her was enough to make her laugh and cry at the same time.

Draco and Sasha were standing in the bath, both naked, clinging to each other, Sasha's face buried in Draco's shoulder. Draco and Snape, laughably enough, were having what; at first, seemed like a swear-off.

"You fucking pedophile!" Draco screamed at Snape. Snape took a step backwards, shocked.

"That's no way to talk to a professor, Master Malfoy," Snape growled at Draco.

"You pervert!" Draco screamed.

"Master Malfoy, control yourself!" Snape yelled at him. Hermione's eyes widened. She'd never imagined that she'd live to see Snape and Draco get into a fight. It always seemed that Draco could get Snape to do whatever Draco wanted.

"I'm completely under control," Draco snarled through his teeth. Hermione had never seen him be angry like this. She didn't even have an idea what he was angry about. Actually, she could guess, but it didn't make much sense.

"It's you that needs to control yourself, Severus! You've been sending her those sex notes! Newsflash, Sevvy, that's disgusting! I mean, you're old enough to be her father. Actually, you were friends with her father. So. That's just gross, you pervert," Draco said, recollecting himself. Hermione let out an audible gasp. She could never imagine that a professor would do something like that to her.

"She's been skipping her detentions," Snape growled, pointing a long, dirty finger at Sasha. "She may have to repeat this year."

"No wonder!" Draco yelled. "She's afraid of you! She's afraid, Severus! I can't understand why anyone wouldn't be!"

"Why don't you let her talk, Draco? I'm sure she has something interesting to say. She doesn't need you to speak for her all the time," Snape drawled.

Before Snape could say another word, Sasha pointed a shaky finger at her wand, and whispered something under her breath. Her wand flew to her hand, and with it, she tapped the top of her head, fully clothing her in a pair of jeans and a green sweater. She walked out of the bath, and her clothes, miraculously, were bone-dry. She was wearing a pair of pointy black leather stiletto boots.

Sasha walked up to Snape, and glared at him, her chin set furiously. With her heels, she was eye-to-eye with him. He put his hands on either side of her face and moved towards her as if about to kiss her, but Sasha promptly stuck the tip of her wand to his throat. Snape dropped his hands and swallowed heavily.

"That's better," Sasha whispered, an almost visible aura of anger surrounding her. "You're disgusting," she said angrily. Obviously unfinished, she swallowed and reset her jaw. Before she continued, she slapped him clear across the face. Hermione, again, gasped.

"HONESTLY!" Sasha screamed. She was beyond angry. She'd crossed the line into absolutely insane and out-of-control. She was like a wildfire. "I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU LIVE WITH YOURSELF, SEVERUS SNAPE! YOU'RE DISGUSTING! SEXUAL HARRASSMENT IS A CRIME, SNAPE!" Sasha roared.

"You could get arrested," she said shakily, a vein in her neck popping out from repressed anger. "Actually, I think I may have to kill you."

"You couldn't," Snape said haughtily. "You're not a follower. You're not branded. You couldn't touch me."

"Rules have never stopped me," Sasha contradicted. "Besides, even if I couldn't do it myself, who's to say he can't?"

"Draco couldn't touch me either," Snape replied calmly.

"You know I don't mean Draco," Sasha snarled. Hermione was actually intimidated. Sasha was actually scaring her. If she were in Snape's shoes, she'd have already run screaming from the bathroom. "I mean Voldemort."

"He wouldn't kill a servant," Snape said, sounding like he was just saying it to hear how it sounded, but knowing it was by no means true.

"As if you've been faithful!" Sasha yelled, laughing to herself. "That mark on your arm means nothing. Nothing, Severus! You're done for if this gets out! Because you know who is branded, and who is faithful, and who has privileges from the Dark Lord?" Sasha asked, pausing for drama.

"My father," Sasha answered her own question. "And Lucius. And my mother. And Narcissa. And MacNair, and Karkaroff. Nott. Avery. It's not like they'd have anything to lose. Or any reason not to, actually. You cheated them all, Severus, and now you'll have to pay. You've only given them reason to."

"Your parents, Draco's parents, MacNair, Avery and Nott, Karkaroff, they wouldn't hurt me," Severus challenged. "We're all friends."

"No one's friends once you get that burning mark on your arm. Spur of the moment, you feel like killing someone, boom. You can do whatever you want. Emotions don't get in the way," Sasha corrected morbidly. The tone in her voice sent horrified chills down Hermione's spine. She coughed, and Sasha looked up at the door, and walked over. Hermione pressed herself against the wall parallel to the door, hoping that Sasha wouldn't notice her.

Sasha poked her head out the door, and looked to both sides, unfortunately spotting Hermione on her second look.

"What are you doing here, Granger?" Sasha rasped. "Come for the show?"

"No," Hermione said nervously. "I was just walking by, and I heard-"

"Oh," Sasha said. "Well then. Just play along." Sasha looked back inside to Draco and Snape, who were, again, fighting angrily with each other.

"Oh, Pansy, what a horrible mistake!" Sasha exclaimed. "You look exactly like Granger now! Pansy, you idiot, why would you try a Polyjuice spell?"

Hermione was dumbstruck. "I'm so stupid!" she wailed. "Why am I so ugly now?"

"Not like you weren't before," Sasha said, loud enough for anyone to hear. She hurried Hermione down the corridor to the staircase. Sasha rushed her up the stairs, and before letting her walk away, put her hands on Hermione's shoulders.

"Promise you won't tell anyone what you saw?" Sasha pleaded. Hermione didn't understand. This was the girl who pushed people aside in the hallways, dated Draco Malfoy, and swore at the teachers. She was begging Hermione to not tell anyone?

"I would never," Hermione said, perfectly honest. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because," Sasha replied. "Nobody else is around to see me being nice to Granger."

"So," Hermione said, only vaguely processing this. "You mean, you don't actually completely hate me?"

"I don't waste my time hating random people," Sasha replied. "I only really truly hate Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Millicent Bullstrode."

"Oh," Hermione said. "Then I'll see you around?"

"Yeah," Sasha said. "Maybe we can talk sometime."

"Maybe," Hermione said, and Sasha let her walk away.

***

Hermione was completely dumbstruck. Actually, she was more confused and dazed about what had just happened than dumbstruck, but, suffice it to say, she had no idea what had just occurred.

She walked up to the infirmary to seek help from Harry, her beloved Harry, since he was probably much more accustomed to feeling this way.

Upon heaving open one of the large oak doors, Hermione surveyed the infirmary, her eyes searching for the perfectly tousled black hair. Her watchful eyes found him, and she scurried to his side.

"Harry?" she asked, pushing his shoulder to wake him. He groaned, but opened his emerald eyes soon enough.

"What?" he moaned. His left eye had bruised significantly, and Hermione wondered why Madame Pomfrey had failed to do something about it.

"Your eye's all bruised," she said, touching it gingerly.

"Yeah, about that," he replied. "She said I had to learn how to not get into fights the Muggle way. She's letting it bruise, and whatever's broken will heal on its own."

"That's terrible!" Hermione exclaimed. "Madame Pomfrey!" she called. The elderly woman looked up.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" Madame Pomfrey replied in a semi-angry tone of voice.

"Why won't you fix his bruises?" Hermione demanded of the nurse.

"Lower your voice, please," Madame Pomfrey commanded angrily. "There are other people in this infirmary with much more serious ailments than Mr. Potter's black eye, Missy. Now please, leave me to my work."

Hermione growled something incomprehensible under her breath, and stalked off, leaving Harry lying in bed, looking confused and tired.

She sped down the corridors, and soon her feet had carried her to Gryffindor Tower. She walked into the nearly-empty common room and flopped into an armchair. Hermione sightlessly stared into the flames within the hearth, lost within the depths of her thoughts.

It wasn't that her thoughts were complicated, oh no, it wasn't that at all. It was that there were so many moving so fast that she was having trouble making any sense of them.

She closed her temporarily unseeing eyes and reopened them, and her thoughts quickly organized themselves into a form that she could understand, at which time she reviewed her thoughts.

Obviously, the main thing on her mind was Sasha, Draco, and Professor Snape, regarding the scene in the bathroom about forty-five minutes earlier. What had happened had happened too fast for her, at the time, to be able to comprehend it, but now she was able to think about it, logically and calmly.

It had never occurred to her that Professor Snape had any feelings. As horrible as that was, it had just never phased her that the hook-nosed professor was actually human, much less that he could have fallen for a student.

Surprises were everywhere, she supposed. Hermione was just glad that there would be none from Harry.