Surprise, surprise!
“I can’t fucking believe it, Mione!”
Hermione could barely hide her amusement; here was Ron Weasley, standing in the middle of her living room, screaming bloody murder because he overheard her saying a few things that were too explicit and absolutely not addressed to him.
As she stood across the Weasley manchild, listening to his rant, she secured the sheet she had wrapped around her body in order to preserve some semblance of modesty. Vaguely she wondered just why did she keep the wards to her house down for Harry and Ron, as if she didn’t know they would come uninvited at some point. And normally, she wouldn’t mind, not much. But Ron decided to pop by in the worst possible moment, when she had Severus between her legs, lapping at her as if it was crucial to his survival.
She was so close to coming, when she saw Ron watching them with a look of pure horror across his face.
“Are you insane? With Snape?” he asked, and Hermione closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, willing herself to avoid punching him squarely in the jaw. If she broke the jaw of the most famous Quidditch player in Britain, people wouldn't take it too kindly –even if she was the Minister's fucking second in command.
“What is your problem, Ron?” she eventually asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. “That I’m enjoying myself, or that I’m enjoying myself in Severus' company?”. Since her and Ron had parted ways, only mere months into an unfortunate relationship, they had remained best friends; however, Hermione's amorous life was her own affair to handle.
“Severus--” Ron repeated, mimicking Hermione's voice, thus weakening her resolve to not commit any acts of unspeakable violence while dressed as a Roman before an orgy. “When did he become Severus?”
When you weren't watching, she thought to herself. When he and I spent months working together for the Minister. When he listened to me and made me laugh and moan and–
She couldn't voice those thoughts aloud, not yet.
“My personal life is none of your business, Weasley,” she eventually said, using her friend's last name in order to show her displeasure. “That’s why I didn't tell you about this! Because you're bloody annoying and judgemental!”
“But–”
“No ‘but’! Get out and leave me be!”
“Don't trust him, Hermione,” Ron said, his voice turning quiet, pleading–just like every time he tried to earn her favour. “I heard about him; the Daily Prophet says he's a deviant– he’s been spotted with different women for the last year, being almost indecent, although I can't see why. He’s ugly, Mione–”
“Funny, that's exactly what he said about you,” she purred, the very moment Severus walked into the room, dressed in a similar fashion as her. “He told me I shouldn't trust that you’d connect the dots.”
When Hermione reached for her wand, casting a charm that changed little things in her appearance at will, Ron turned an unbecoming shade of green and fled Hermione's house without commenting further on the fact that she was what the public perceived as several different dates for Severus Snape.