Sarabande
Hermione stood in a defensive stance, wand out, staring down the man across the courtyard from her. She had almost missed his near-silent arrival.
“You know I’ll win.”
His words, spoken with such confidence in a smooth baritone, rung through the empty stone courtyard of the old church. Shivers skittered down her back.
She mentally kicked herself for leaving the safety of the camp. No matter how much she needed ingredients to brew more healing potions, her life—and the lives of Harry and Ron, waiting back at the camp for her—mattered much, much more.
The yarrow she had been hurriedly collecting from the overgrown garden plots lay forgotten at her feet. Her body, although aching, was still. Her defensive stance was perfect, and her dueling abilities honed thanks to the dark man standing a couple yards away.
A time that felt very, very long ago came sliding back into her mind. Lessons with him, hours of spirited debates, gentle touches from his steady hands that corrected her dueling stance, dark eyes full of amusement and something else. It felt like years had passed. How had she so trusted and admired this man? His betrayal hung heavy and tense between them. She narrowed her caramel gaze on the imposing potions master. He might have taught her well, but Hermione knew her chances against him were slim.
Severus Snape drew forward with graceful, even strides and quiet steps. The walk and poise of a predator, and she was the prey. She did not move. Moving or flinching would have given him satisfaction, and that was the last thing she wanted. No, she wanted him to hurt as much as she was hurting. She wanted him to feel the roiling emotions in her chest upon seeing him again. She wanted to hear him apologize. She wanted revenge.
He was so close now, placing himself directly in front of her. Did he really think she wouldn’t—or couldn’t—attack him? Hermione’s hand shook, nearly imperceptibly. His sharp gaze caught it, flickering from her hand to her eyes, holding her gaze with an intensity that made her knees weak.
Sudden fury blazed through her, rolling from her head downwards. She’d show him exactly what he taught her. Her voice, calmer and more confident than she felt, snapped back at him.
“And you know I’ll fight.”