emphasizing | for antisavior.

for antisavior.

[ There are a myriad of ways that Hermione could be spending this fine New Years evening, but instead it is at a gala hosted and sponsored by the Ministry (ugh) in remembrance of those who fought valiantly and lost their lives during the Second Wizarding War a decade ago. Tonks told her that it was also to commemorate the survivors, and that Medals of Bravery were to be given out at some point during the night, which meant that there was a 99.9% chance she was going to be up there accepting it (double ugh).

She would rather be at her cottage, reading a book with Crookshanks curled in her lap by the fireplace, if you asked her. Unfortunately, she is in full attendance at Ron and Harry's behest; wearing a practiced fake smile as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, careful not to mess up the braided up-do that took about half an hour to do — she had to wrestle with that nest on her head, after all. She's clad in a deep maroon gown (to remind everyone she is still a Gryffindor, in case they forgot) with off the shoulder sleeves to hide a scar that she has not yet been able to magick away.

Hermione would sooner off herself if another stranger commends her for being so brave while being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange.

The fates have incredibly displeased with her, so it seems, or maybe she's getting hexed, for whatever reason? Either way, she comes to the conclusion that someone is plotting her downfall because upon being escorted to her assigned seat by her choice of drink — an espresso martini — she finds that one of her seatmates is: ]

Professor Snape. [ She greets him with a hint of disdain, but the corners of her lips are curled into a courteous smile. Kind of. If it looks a bit off, it's because she doesn't want to actually be smiling at all actually, especially in his direction. ] I'm seeing an awful lot of you lately.

[ "An awful lot" — twice in one month is more often than she'd like. ]

( What Severus Snape has — among other things — is a PR problem. As it turns out, when one plays their role as an irredeemable jackass too well under the assumption that they will not survive the war, people are generally reluctant to believe anything but the irredeemable jackass bit. The ultimate truth of his allegiance is a pill many are still reluctant to swallow, no matter the vocal endorsement from the wizarding world's most famous savior.

If it were only public perception that mattered, though, he wouldn't be here. It's the lingering legalities of the situation. The still-living aurors who'd very much like to see his soul kissed clean from his mouth, and the very thin threshold of law that keeps him from being put on trial with the rest of the known Death Eaters.

He's here to reinforce reality, much to the chagrin of the Moodys of the world. He doesn't have to pretend to be happy about it.

On the bright side, he does get the amusement of being seated with Granger at the second highest table of honor. Not normally company he'd seek out, but knowing she's likely still perturbed by their last encounter at least ought to provide some measure of entertainment.

That, and the fact that he intends to get absolutely roaring drunk on the Ministry's dime. He's already partway into his second glass of firewhiskey by the time she joins him at the table. )

I assure you it's a mutual pleasure, Granger. Consider me in all ways delighted.

( Which would be a very nice sentiment, if he weren't saying it completely tonelessly and with absolutely no inflection. It isn't even right to call it sarcasm, there isn't nearly enough bite. It is, at best, a very dry apathy — and it's punctuated by a very deep drink. )

I don't recall saying it was pleasure.

[ That infamous monotonous drawl of his is what makes her drop the act, if only briefly. There is really nothing quite like it, when it comes to grating her nerves. Maybe what gets her the most is that she is seething with envy at how Snape doesn't care to keep up with appearances.

Hermione, on the other hand, has to make sure that her reputation precedes her and that it remains pristine so that the donations don't stop coming in for all the causes she's got under her belt, and for the oldest wing at St. Mungo's gets the renovations it deserves. To have been bestowed the Honor of Merlin at the age of eighteen is really not all it's cracked up to be.

Her martini floats itself lower and lower until it's sitting on the table next to her name card and she follows suit, sliding into the seat next to him.

The hall is beginning to flood with people — important people — much to her dismay, neither Ginny nor her best friends are in tow. The crowd is growing and there's enough chatter around the room that their conversion will no doubt get drowned out, so Hermione takes a chance. ]

Regardless, I hope you've been well. [ Fake niceties, except this time, her lips are pursed in a tight line. ] Can we agree not to ever speak of That Incident in the presence of others? Or rather, perhaps we should take it to our graves and never speak of it again?

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oh my GOD the meme please

lmfao i am so pleased u like it 👼