Unfamiliar Faces
Hermione watched Roland from the corner of her eye, his gaze boring into her like a drill. She could feel the tension in the air, a palpable energy that threatened to spark into something dangerous. She needed to distract herself, to focus on something else.
Just then, three men entered the bar. They were tall, imposing figures, dressed in expensive suits that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly sheen. Their faces were etched with lines of age and experience, yet their eyes held a youthful intensity.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat as she recognized one of them. Severus Snape. The man who had once been her Potions master, the man she had once secretly admired. But this wasn't the same Snape she remembered. The gaunt, bitter man was gone, replaced by a more refined, almost elegant figure.
"Severus?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Snape turned, his eyes locking onto hers. A flicker of surprise, then recognition, crossed his face. "Miss Granger," he said, his voice a low rumble.
The other two men, Lucius and Draco Malfoy, followed Snape's gaze. Draco, now a man, seemed almost shy, his eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and awe. Lucius, on the other hand, exuded an air of confidence and authority.
"Well, well, well," Lucius drawled, a smirk playing on his lips. "If it isn't the brightest witch of her age."
Hermione felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. She hadn't expected to see them here, not in this place, not like this.
"What brings you to Seraphina's?" she asked, her voice steady.
"A long day," Snape replied, his gaze fixed on her. "We thought a drink might help us unwind."
As the night wore on, Hermione found herself drawn into their conversation. They spoke of potions, of business, of the changing world. It was as if the years had melted away, and they were back in the familiar confines of Hogwarts.
But there was something different now, a tension that crackled beneath the surface. It was a mix of attraction, respect, and a shared history. Hermione couldn't deny the pull she felt towards Snape, a pull that was both familiar and intoxicating.
Meanwhile, Roland watched the group with growing resentment. He couldn't stand seeing Hermione so captivated by these strangers, these wizards. A surge of jealousy and possessiveness consumed him. He knew he had to act, and soon.