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There was still a hint of a smile on his face as Severus walked into the lab in his master's home. He could still feel Hermione on his lips, her scent still lingered in his nose, her voice still rung in his ears. It had been a very pleasant errand.

Nikola glanced at him as he came in, not pausing once in his grinding of a granite bean.

"You took longer than expected," he replied, his Bulgarian accent thick. "I had not thought Hogsmeade to be a busy village."

"It happened that today was a Hogsmeade weekend for the students," Severus replied as he set the box of Scottish thistle on the table beside Nikola. "I had a moment's distraction."

Nikola gave him a knowing smile, glancing at him once more from the corner of his eye. "You found your lady?"

"Happened upon her, really. She, like I, had been heading to the apothecary," he explained as he resumed his previous task of sorting through the previous night's harvest.

"Is she to master in potions?"

"No, her interest is strictly academic. I imagine she will choose Runes or Arithmancy."

"Pity. If your lady is as intelligent and quick as you, she'll be excellent apprentice," Nikola said slyly, and when Severus gave him a dark scowl, the master laughed. "I have seen your photo of your Hermonee. She is not what I consider beautiful, you would not fear that sort of apprenticeship here."

Igor chuckled behind them.

"I would not be so pleased, Karkaroff," Nikola said without turning to look at him. "Your Yvonne is not a pretty flower herself."

"At least she is my wife," Igor replied, and Severus rolled his eyes so hard it actually gave him a momentary headache. "And your lady, Severus? Did you find her in the arms of another?"

The image of Lupin walking closely beside her, grabbing her wrist as Hermione began to move toward him flashed in Severus' mind. He'd worried for a fleeting moment, when Lupin insisted Hermione not follow him into J. Pippin's, that perhaps his lack of communication and the long wait before them, had made her doubt him after all. He'd received word from Dumbledore shortly after Hermione's birthday that she seemed smitten with another. However, the old man's insinuation that it was Black, having described her new object of interest as having similar coloring to himself, left him more humored than worried. Seeing Lupin nipping at her heels, though, had him slightly more guarded.

"At least Severus' lady wasn't paid to marry him," Nikola replied.

Severus smirked in spite of himself.

He had expected Nikola to be cold and cruel, that he would insult his apprentices at every turn.

But Ivan Nikola was actually quite pleasant. He was strict, yes. If either he or Karkaroff ruined a potion or spoiled an ingredient, he yelled and had them scrubbing cauldrons or cleaning the lab more thoroughly than was necessary. By hand. Igor was appalled each time. Severus took his punishment without a word. The benefits of a half-blood upbringing, he imagined. If either of them had a truly stupid idea, something that happened rarely, Nikola was quite liberal with the insults, and in three different languages. Aside from those moments, though, the man had a dry wit he was quick to use at any moment, uniting them all in their passion for the craft and their unfortunate lack of good looks.

They frequently spent the evenings with port and potions journals, and while Nikola did not let either of them write home often so they would focus on their craft as much as possible, he did let both young men share stories of home. Igor was always willing to divulge, pleased to hear himself talk as much as he was pleased to talk about himself. Severus had limited his sharing to his mother, his time working with Bob in the gardens, and Hermione.

"At least Yvonne agreed," Karkaroff boasted.

"Yes, for a price," Severus reminded him. "I may not be betrothed in an official capacity, but I earned Hermione's promise to wait with nothing more than a six-year-old scarf and a used textbook."

Nikola laughed, clapping Severus on the back with great pride.

"My wife, she'd have liked you," Nikola said. "Tried to take you as ours. Had we sons, she'd have wanted them to be like you."

"And how are your daughters?" Severus asked politely.

"Well," Nikola replied.

Severus knew better than to ask further. He'd gathered everything he needed together to know Nikola was the kind of Death Eater he wanted to be around. To emulate.

The revel where Severus confirmed that Nikola and Igor were indeed Death Eaters happened just before Hermione's birthday. When the burn pierced his arm, the other two men hissed, and then after a pause, they all summoned their masks and departed. When they arrived at their destination, it was a scene Severus hadn't expected: a celebration.

The man he watched burn in the woods the night he took his Mark had been joined in the afterlife by his family, and the Death Eaters had killed an Auror in the process. There were drinks, a feast, and most disturbingly of all, an orgy.

Severus had never thought he would be so repulsed by sex in his life.

"Will you not partake, Severus?" the Dark Lord asked as many of the younger Death Eaters and about half of the older leaped gleefully into the fray.

"If I may pass, my Lord. I wish to have relations solely with the woman I intend to marry. Not only to keep myself pure, but to prevent a possible problem in the future. One cannot trust that a child will not be conceived," he'd replied, happy to see that the Dark Lord accepted his answer.

"Wise, Severus. Quite wise. I, too, do not find myself straying from one lady," the Dark Lord had said, his eyes falling on a woman with dark curls who was more interested in watching than joining. Bellatrix Black, Severus recalled, though he thought her married now. "Your daughters must be of age now, Ivan," the Dark Lord said suddenly to Nikola. "Perhaps you would like to introduce her to some of your brothers? One of them might make a good husband. Or lover."

Nikola had paled. "They are ... not within my reach, my Lord. They have left to be with my late wife's family in Russia."

"That is a shame," the Dark Lord hummed. "Please, enjoy the evening."

"I do not wish to participate in such distasteful act," Nikola said when they were alone. "Nor watch. We go. Bar down the road, good for people like us, yeah?"

And so, Severus left with Nikola, the excuse of following his master on the tip of his tongue should it be needed.

"Vodka. We drink," Nikola announced.

Wizarding vodka, he had learned, was not something to drink lightly. It was potent, a little onion-y, and went to your head faster than Felix Felicis.

Which was why Severus had only downed two shots before he chased his second with a few drops of that wonderful potion when his master wasn't looking. He'd been carrying his winning bottle around for so long, he'd almost forgot he had it.

And then the trouble had started. Someone had walked in, Severus couldn't remember who, and took exception to a half-blood and non-British wizard drinking in what he deemed "his bar." His friends hadn't liked it either, and a fight broke out before Severus really knew he was participating in one.

In the end, not a single Unforgivable was used on the five men heaped in a pile on the floor, twitching and whimpering. Nor had they been maimed.

"You use unexpected on Dark Wizards," Nikola had approved, clapping Severus on the back with approval. "I tell our brothers, 'no need for blood shed. Do the same torture with few jinxes.' All Dark spells, you have to mean them. Intention."

"Intention," Severus agreed, lifting his shot glass to Nikola. The older man had laughed heartily, giving cheers.

And that was how Severus had earned his place. How the Dark Lord began to take more notice of him. His intention. He had been successful when others hadn't, in breaking a victim, getting them to plead for death with well-placed stinging or engorging hexes. Some called him soft; the Dark Lord called him clever and creative. And the fact that he didn't hesitate with a curse when it was needed had ensured his cover as a genuine Death Eater.

Just as it should be.

Severus arrived at Malfoy Manor just before Nikola and Karkaroff. He took that time to straighten his sleeves, adjust his cravat, and hope for the hundredth time that he was presentable. His hair was greasier than he'd like, and he was only in a nicer frock coat than the one he wore around the lab.

It was his fault, really. He hadn't been paying attention in the early afternoon, and just as his seven-hour potion was almost done, his stirring rod slipped off the rim of the cauldron and into the potion, agitating it and ruining it.

He'd cursed and desperately wanted to throw the cauldron across the room, but he refrained. Instead, without Nikola saying a word, Severus banished the potion and started again. He forfeited his shower and settled for cleansing charms; he didn't change into the expensive dress robes his mother had sent for Christmas, instead settling on adding gold embroidery to his frock coat and changing his cravat to a deep green one. It wouldn't win him any beauty awards and may not even earn him any points with Hermione, but there was a nod of approval from his master and a proud smile that Severus was starting to crave, and that had made it worth setting aside his vanity for perfection of craft.

"She'll be here tonight?" Nikola asked after he and Karkaroff were straightened out.

"She was invited," was the only response Severus could give.

She'd written him twice since Hogsmeade, and in neither letter did she confirm she would be there. She spoke of her studies, how she settled on Arithmancy as her first Mastery and broke Minerva's heart. She wrote of her, Lily, and the Marauders creating a new map after Pettigrew lost the original. But she never said if they would see one another.

Part of him hoped they would, another hoped they wouldn't.

There had been a ... festive gathering a couple of nights before. The Dark Lord, it seemed, thought it would be amusing to terrify a bunch of Muggles on Christmas night, destroying a church in a small remote village. It hadn't been pleasant, and Severus was forced to kill for the first time since his father. It was between killing her or allowing that poor young woman to continue suffering when she'd already been tortured by more than a half dozen Death Eaters.

He may miss Hermione terribly, but he worried he wouldn't be able to face her. That perhaps she would be better off with Lupin.

The party was in full swing when they arrived, which was expected. The witches in their finery, the wizards in their cups.

There was no sign of the Dark Lord, oddly enough, and Severus noted the host of the evening seemed a mix of miffed and relieved. There was also a distinct lack of Narcissa at his side.

"Ivan, Igor," Lucius greeted each man with a handshake. "Welcome to Malfoy Manor, please do indulge yourselves."

"And the Dark Lord?" Karkaroff sneered.

"Unfortunately, he was not able to accompany us this evening," Lucius replied.

Severus looked around once more and noticed that there were some familiar faces missing. "Did you have competition this eve?" Severus asked as Nikola and Karkaroff entered the throng of people.

"Yes," Lucius said through his teeth. "Bella and her husband decided that they simply had to have a party themselves. Make it a truly pure-blood affair."

"Well, if it's any consolation, regardless of my blood status, I would much rather be here than there."

"I wonder why that is." He stepped aside, and Severus frowned as he stepped forward. He scanned the crowd but couldn't see Hermione anywhere.

Until he suddenly felt eyes on him, and he whipped his head back to the cluster of women he'd scanned before.

He stopped breathing. Then immediately wished he'd allowed his vanity to take the reins earlier in the evening.

Hermione was radiant. Her curls were exaggerated, pinned to her head with only a lock or two cascading onto her shoulders. Her dress was deep charcoal gray, fluttering at the bottom like a flag in the wind. She smiled at him, and then excused herself from the others.

They met halfway, and she bowed her head with a little curtsy before offering her hand. "Apprentice Snape," she greeted, her voice a touch huskier than normal.

"Miss Granger," he said, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. "You look exquisite."

"Thank you," she said, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks. "I like the frock coat."

"I'm not sure if I should be pleased or disturbed. If the context were clearer."

"You would go with di—" she cut off with a gasp. "The latter."

Severus merely hummed in reply, stroking her hand with his thumb. "Before I spend the rest of my evening with you in my arms, I think I must make some introductions," he said, turning and tucking her hand in this elbow while he scanned the room.

He found Nikola speaking with some other masters, Karkaroff as close to his side as he could get, and Severus led Hermione to them.

"Master Nikola, if I may interrupt," he said as he approached, the masters' laughter quieting at the request. "I would like to introduce to you Miss Hermione Granger-McGonagall. Hermione, my master, Ivan Nikola."

"Granger?" Nikola said as he took Hermione's offered hand. "The famous potioneer?"

"A distant relation. Unfortunately, I was unable to learn more from my family before I lost my parents," she swiftly explained as she gave a dainty curtsy. "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir. I hear from Severus rarely, but when I do, he speaks most highly of you."

"And I think quite highly of him." Nikola smiled.

"You had best," another one of the masters spoke up. "Snatched him away before any of us could."

"You said you could not take apprentice, Asimov."

"Had I known it was this man who was searching for one, I would have changed my answer. When I enquired, I was told young Mr. Snape here was but sixteen, and only in his sixth year of school. Had I known he would graduate a year early..."

"We all would have, Asimov," another master replied. "But enough, we cannot change the past. Now, Miss Granger, are you interested?"

"I'm afraid I've chosen Arithmancy," she answered.

"Probably for the best that there won't be two Master Snapes in the Potions field," Asimov said, studying Hermione in a way that made Severus clench his teeth.

"Quite," Hermione replied.

Nikola turned to Severus. "As long as I see you in the laboratory by ten tomorrow morning, you are free to do what you wish, with whom you wish, for as long as you wish, for the rest of the night."

"Thank you, Master," Severus said with a deep bow, offering another to the masters, and then took himself and Hermione to the dancefloor. He needed to hold her, and this was the best way to do so in polite company.

"I wasn't sure if I would see you," Severus prompted after they'd done a few turns.

"I didn't want to make a promise I couldn't keep. Dumbledore was making it difficult for me to leave. He said he would already have you here, and he believed I wouldn't be expected to attend without you. In fact, he seemed quite convinced that you'd object to my presence."

"No," he stated with a subtle shake of his head. "I would never."

"Good." She smiled warmly.

"You seem different," he noted, taking in her charms work that made her appear older, more mature. More pure-blood.

She leaned in to him. "I wanted to play the part. To be the part for you. And I didn't think the women here would dress in bright colors."

"Did you wear bright colors to the Yule Ball this year?"

"Actually, that was canceled," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Apparently, Professor Scamander was so incensed with how Dumbledore runs Hogwarts, that she went to the Ministry and the board and told them everything that was going on. The fact that more than three dozen students were intoxicated at a school function, intended or not, made them decide to cancel the Yule Ball. They blamed budget cuts."

"Of course." Severus twitched his lips.

They fell silent for a time, and Severus enjoyed holding her. As they moved, he took note of those around him. At this point, he recognized the inner circle Death Eaters by their voices. And as they went past various crowds and couples, he started putting faces to those names. They wore their masks at all times, and while he knew some of them without them, now he was certain he knew them all. He was mentally composing an up-to-date list for Alastor when he saw Lucius approaching them.

"I hate to interrupt," he said, glancing around the room. "But it turns out that Narcissa is in need of me, and I have to step away. I merely wanted to extend an invitation to one of the guest suites in the Manor."

Hermione blushed. "Is that appropriate?"

"More than a room in any other establishment. My father made me Lord of the Manor, and so he has no say in who stays here and in which room." Lucius bowed to Hermione before offering Severus his hand.

In that quick, fleeting moment, without moving his lips, Severus softly whispered the spell to slip into his friend's mind and quickly wish he hadn't.

He watched Lucius leave the room, a dozen ideas already turning in his head.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"Not here," Severus replied, glancing around the room to see if anyone was paying attention to them. They were as anonymous as they could be, so he turned her toward the entrance of the ballroom with a hand on her lower back. Once out in the hallway, an elf hopped from one foot to another before leading them to the east wing.

It was probably a good ten minutes of climbing stairs and winding down corridors before they were led to a large bedroom that held its own seating area. Lucius had even had the foresight (or perhaps the presumption) to send up wine.

When the elf disappeared with a pop, Severus led Hermione to the divan and sat down beside her.

"What's the matter, Severus?" she asked quietly.

"It would seem Narcissa is having a similar problem that Delia had."

"But you fixed that. You even submitted a commentary on it."

"Yes." Severus nodded. "But that was before I was under the tutelage and thumb of a master. In multiple ways. Nikola would approve of gifting it to Narcissa, or even brewing it for her myself. The Dark Lord would deem it worthy to further the Malfoy line, I believe, but as Bellatrix hasn't had any children from her union, it may be that those things matter little to him. And then there is Dumbledore, who would tell me not to do it, I'm sure."

"And what does Severus want to do? Set aside all those other factors, forget everything else. Would you do that for them?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation.