Disclaimer: No matter how much I wish it, nothing of Harry Potter, except my own fan fiction, belongs to me. It belongs to J.K Rowling.

What A Tangled Web We Weave…

1.A Chance Meeting

"Go," the Headmaster had urged, with that more than irritating glimmer in his eye. "It'll be fun. And who knows, perhaps you'll learn a little something."

Severus snorted to himself as he pushed his way through the crowd of wizards and witches in mismatched Muggle clothing. He, critically acclaimed Potions Master, learn something from these ridiculously inept people? Far from it. He rather thought it would be the other way round, as usual.

He'd seen it all before, the same old crowd, the same 'professionals.' The type who would push out the ideas with actual substance, in favour of the more glamorous notions that appealed to today's society.

He sighed exasperatedly as the minute hand on his watch flicked to five past ten and cursed Albus for insisting on buying a Muggle train ticket to London, instead of Flooing there. 'A new experience' he'd said. It was certainly an experience for Severus. At the station he'd been almost sucked in with the crowd of early morning commuters and whisked onto the wrong platform. After arriving on the train, he had hoped it would be relatively painless. Instead, he'd managed to sit in chewing gum, was forced to give up his seat to an elderly Muggle who'd glared at him until he did. The old woman's fierce look had reminded him eerily of his own.

Obviously he couldn't make use of magic to clear his robes on the train (he'd got a few strange looks for his garb too, but he absolutely refused the prospect of wearing the blue jeans the Headmaster had offered him), and so had whipped out his wand in the nearest Public Toilet as soon as he'd stepped off the train. The less said about these facilities, the better, he'd decided.

Strangely, no matter how much these people weren't to his taste, apparently they were sticklers for punctuality. Arriving in the entrance hall of the address he'd been given, he noticed that there were no stragglers hurrying in, well, apart from himself.

After looking at the doors labelled 'Conference Room A-H' with some trepidation, a small bearded man wearing a red waistcoat approached him with a rather cheery smile, pasted, falsely Severus suspected, on his face.

"Good morning, sir. I'm afraid the Winter Fashions briefing for UniDress isn't until next Tuesday."

Severus stared at him. "Pardon?"

Something dawned upon the man, whose badge; under closer scrutiny revealed his name was 'Richard' and he was 'Happy to Help'.

"Oh, you must be…" turning behind him he called to the woman sitting at the reception desk. "Margaret, it's another one of those people! Is it too late to send him in, d'you think?"

The blonde shook her head idly before returning to the large, grey, box shaped object on her desk. Before Severus could take a glimpse at the strange Muggle item, which was omitting a loud beep, Richard began to lead him down the hallway. Half way down, he opened a door and gestured for him to follow inside. The large conference room was filled with rows of chairs and, he noted gladly, members of the wizarding community.

Richard quietly showed him to a chair at the back of the hall. Realising he couldn't see the speaker at the podium at the front too well, he drew his guide's attention to the problem.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Richard answered before leaving, "but I'm afraid most of the seats were reserved for the more prominent guests."

Severus glowered at his retreating back. More prominent? How dare he insist Severus's presence was meagre, at most? In horror, he recognised a student who'd barely passed his Potion N.E.W.T the year before sitting in the second row.

Trying to put it out of his mind, he attempted to settle back and listen. The speaker at the front of the hall, a young woman, was describing a diagram she'd drawn in mid air.

As time progressed, he found himself nodding along with her words, agreeing with her statements. He noticed that others around him seemed much more sceptical, with doubtful frowns on their faces.

When she finished, she cleared away the traces of the hovering image wih a casual wave of her hand and turned to her listeners.

"I'd like to answer any questions now," she said with a smile, removing the glasses she'd been wearing and brushing back some loose strands of hair behind her ears.

A thin witch, dressed in mauve robes and thick spectacles stood up to get her attention.

The woman nodded to her.

"It's all very well that you've said the treatment has been tested on a human suspect, but are we going to see some actual, physical proof of that?"

The smile faltered slightly. " Our…current subject doesn't wish to be publicised about his past transformations. We are however, looking into a couple more possible cases at the moment, and seeing if they are willing to come out into the open after their treatment, to show the results to the wizarding public."

Several hands rose at this point, along with frowning faces, but the mauve-robed witch quickly spoke again.

"Can we be sure that these subjects have actually had lycanthropy, and have not been handpicked for other symptoms that could be related to something else, just to provide quick evidence which is not solid?"

Again, the speaker hesitated. "Currently, you do not accept photographic evidence in any form, so the only evidence we can provide right now is witness accounts."

Disapproving murmuring came through the audience.

"I assure you that they are most truthful," she said hurriedly but Severus knew, and thought she did too, that she had already lost them. A flurry of questions came upon her, hands waving in every direction.

"How do we know that?"

"Why should we trust you?"

Severus almost thought the woman had lost control of her audience and was now failing miserably, but instead, she took a deep breath and spoke into the microphone, quietening them.

"Please settle down. I understand you have many doubts and questions about this radical new treatment, but I promise you that it is worth your time. Now if you'd like to follow me into the room adjoining, everyone who is on the research team will be available for you to speak to." Her voice had become calm and confident and she faced her audience with firm purpose in her eyes. After thanking them, she stepped down and made her way across the hall and through another door. Deep in conversation, the assorted collection of wizarding society followed her.

Severus stood alone in one of the corners of the room, holding a half-drunk glass of lukewarm water in his hand. He realised that if the woman didn't make an appearance soon, he had lost his chance to speak with her and might as well leave.

He set the glass down on a table and made to leave, when he heard a sound of ringing laughter nearby. Turning, he saw the woman smiling broadly at a man who'd obviously just told her something rather amusing.

Being so close, there was something he recognised about her, something familiar, but nothing he associated with this happy, animated and expressive brunette whose loose curls rested just below her shoulders. There was a certain element that drew him to her, and air of confidence, and unquestioned intelligence. She was tall, but not thin, slim with just the right amount of curves. He wasn't a fool- grace wasn't often coupled with intellect in his experience.

As he came closer, he realised that to pat the witch on the shoulder wasn't overly polite, as he'd been intending to do. Instead, after standing awkwardly for a moment, feeling very much out of the scene with his dark robes hanging about him, rather like a shadow, he cleared his throat, at an appropriate pause between her and her companion.

Immediately, she turned to face him. Severus's breath caught in his throat. Her chocolate eyes examined his face keenly and she regarded him with a smile, before her eyes widened.

"Professor Snape?" she asked, in disbelief.

Severus frowned. She knew him? He held his hand out to shake hers.

"Severus, please. And you would be?"

She stared at him. "You don't recognise me, Professor? It's Hermione. Hermione Granger."

If he hadn't been more articulate, he didn't doubt that his mouth would be a wide enough trap to catch flies in. This girl, this woman, was Hermione Granger? The worst insufferable know-it-all in he'd ever known in all his Gryffindor Potion classes? The girl who had trembled under his gaze all through her first year? The teenager who had stood up to him in her last Potions class of seventh year and told him exactly what she thought of him, making her Gryffindor friends stare in shock and leave in high spirits, and her Slytherin rivals hex her as she left the castle for the final time. Unfortunately, he remembered, almost with a cynical smile, they'd chosen a most inopportune time and had to leave Hogwarts several days later, after being treated by Madam Pomfrey. That young witch had turned into this?

Trying to regain his composure, he reduced his look to appear to be merely taken aback, rather than astounded. "Well, I must say," he replied. "This is a surprise."

She nodded. "It's been a long time." She looked as if she were about to say something else, but before she could speak, her companion from before, a tall man with neatly combed brown hair caught her arm.

"'Mione, darling, George from the Institute is here. He wants a moment of your time before he goes."

"Oh, of course," Severus couldn't help feeling slightly disappointed that she was being dragged away from him so soon into their conversation. She gave him an apologetic glance as she was pulled away by the man, who he assumed she had some sort of relationship with.

"Who was that?" he heard him asking as they walked away.

"Just…just an old teacher of mine. From Hogwarts." So that's what she thought of him, Severus realised. Perhaps his input would be useless to her after all, seeing as he was simply an "old teacher of hers."

"Oh…there," her partner replied, a distinct note of disdain in his voice. He perceptibly didn't think much of it.

Severus watched as they made polite conversation with a superior looking, balding man at the other end of the hall, who obviously was more interested at looking at Hermione than listening to her ideas.

Realising that she probably wouldn't even remember about him being there when she was done, Severus made his way to the double doors that indicated the exit. Just as he had slipped unnoticeably out of them and was preparing to find a suitable area to Apparate into Hogsmeade, he heard a voice call after him.

"Professor! I mean, Severus, wait!"

He turned to see her closing one of the doors and checking behind her. She approached him and smiled.

"Were you leaving without saying goodbye?"

This took him aback. "I assumed that you were rather busy, to be honest. All I wished was to say a hello."

Hermione looked disappointed. "Really?" she asked. "I rather hoped I might talk more with you. You know, when I was standing up there and began to make a mess of things, I thought of how you used to handle our Potions class. It made me think…" She hesitated.

"Yes?" he prompted, wondering what she was thinking.

"Would it be possible for you to give me some input? I'd really appreciate your viewpoint on our new lycanthropy treatment."

"Mine?" he asked. "Aren't you quite far ahead in the work now?"

"Well, yes," she said, biting her lip. "And we know it works but there's…other problems."

"Such as?"

Hermione looked awkward. "I'd rather not discuss it here."

"As much as I'd love to stay and chat," he said, a tone of mild sarcasm in his voice. "I do have classes this afternoon."

"Of course," she answered, ignoring the derisive tone. "Are you doing anything for dinner tomorrow night?"

He tried his best, but he couldn't help staring at her. Was she proposing what he thought she was?

Hermione suddenly laughed. "Oh, listen to me! What kind of impression must I be giving you? I don't mean a date, just an appointment to talk 'business'."

Rather than feeling relieved, Severus felt an odd twinge in his stomach, but dismissed it as a symptom of hunger, after having nothing to eat for a long while.

"I suppose so. Where do you want to meet?"

"Do you know the little bistro on Hammond Street?" she asked. "I often go there to meet colleagues."

He nodded in the affirmative. "Seven?"

"That's fine. I'll see you tomorrow, then." She reached out to shake his hand.

"It was nice meeting you…Severus." She smiled warmly before turning her back and returning inside.

Severus stayed a moment, while he mused over what he'd just agreed to.

Shaking his head, he disappeared with a small 'pop'.

A/N: This is an idea that has been buzzing around all day in my head. It may seem pretty straightforward now, but I have a few twists in mind. By the way, I'm not exactly poking fun at our English Muggle ways, especially on trains, but I just thought I'd exaggerate a little, just as I suspect Severus would.  I hope you enjoy this beginning, if you do please tell me by reviewing or e-mailing me (e-mail address available in my profile.)