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Chapter 17: Falling For The Underdog

(Click here for chapter 16!)

(Click here to start from the beginning!)

Disclaimer: I don’t own the “Harry Potter” book series. The story of “Harry Potter” is the property of J. K. Rowling, it is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

The following weekend, Severus found himself in a situation that he would have never thought possible – he spent the entire day with a woman.

Despite it being a Saturday, Granger had arrived at his private quarters quite early. While he usually woke up long before the rest of the castle, Severus had never really considered himself a morning person. He normally worked late and slept little, often waking up in a cold sweat after just a few hours of sleep due to horrible nightmares. So needless to say, he had been rather surprised when his apprentice had shown up at his door long before the house elves had even started to prepare breakfast. As he’d let her in, he had asked himself if perhaps she was suffering from the same problem as him.

The two of them had spent a lot of time together over the past week. Ever since he had given her unimpeded access to his rooms, Granger had come by even more often than before, and so they had often spent their evenings together. Everything inside him was still screaming that this was wrong, that they were becoming way too comfortable with each other. But yet, he could not help but feel a rush of ecstasy surge through his entire body every single time she walked into his sitting room.

He had given her the password in what had been almost a moment of mental aberration, and he had soon started to regret it. He had tried telling himself that the reason for that regret was that such an action was simply inappropriate for a teacher, but deep down, he knew that he was really just scared of rejection; scared that she would not take him up on the offer and that she would find it creepy and weird. But the next day, when he had come back from teaching the fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors, he had found Granger in his sitting room, fussing over a small sandwich platter from the kitchens which was placed on the table in front of her. Severus still could not have described the emotions he had experienced upon seeing this. On one hand, he had felt massive relief. On the other, it had felt weirdly domestic for some reason; almost as though he had come home after a long day of work to a loving home – something which had been completely new to him.

Sometimes, the pair would be working on potions together, and other times, Severus would be sitting at his desk marking essays while Granger would curl up on his sofa as she studied. Today, however, they were doing what both of them loved the most: reading.

The Potions Master was seated in one of his big wing chairs, a copy of his favourite journal, The Practical Potioneer, in his hands, whereas Granger was spread out across the sofa as usual, deeply engrossed in his volume of Hélas, Je me suis Transfiguré Les Pieds by medieval French wizard Malecrit. Over the last couple of days, Severus had slowly begun to notice how eager she seemed to get her hands on classics from the wizarding world, and he did not exactly know how to feel about that – to him, it somehow appeared as though she was almost desperately trying to make up for the time she had spent growing up around Muggles.

They had both been reading in silence for a while when Severus stumbled across an especially interesting paragraph on the uses of Alihotsy in magical antidepressants. Opening his mouth to share this new piece of information with the knowledge-hungry witch, he looked up and instantly had to draw a sharp breath. Unbeknownst to him, Granger had shifted in her position a few minutes ago, and now her grey skirt had ridden up just far enough to reveal her toned thighs as well as barely the slightest hint of the subtle crease running horizontally underneath her behind.

Severus gulped. It was hard to ignore the way that the shadows of the fire burning a mere few feet away were dancing across her tender, milky flesh. Why was she wearing her uniform – a uniform with what now suddenly seemed like a ridiculously short skirt – on a day with no classes?! For a split second, the thought that she was trying to seduce him crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed that. Never in a million years would Granger be the type of person to try to recreate a scene from a low-budget adult movie, especially not with one of her professors. And if he was being honest with himself, he would have found her appearance bewitching even if she had been wearing a potato sack.

Having long forgotten about what he had originally wanted to say, he blurted out the first thing he could think of. “I do have to say, I find it rather bizarre that Miss Weasley of all people would behave in such a manner towards you. I would be terrified of making someone even remotely angry if they knew of my deepest secret.”

Granger did not even look up. “But that’s not how friendships work.”

“What?” His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“A real friend would never betray you just because you’ve had a fight with them,” she said as she pushed herself up into a seated position. Severus did not know if he was glad or disappointed that her legs were now covered again. “A promise is a promise. That fact doesn’t change just because you’re having a disagreement or because you don’t like each other anymore.”

Yet again, he was pleasantly surprised by her maturity; it made him feel a tiny bit less like a predator preying on an innocent girl.

“Plus, the real problem is Ron. I love him –“ Severus felt a slight sting at these words. “But he’s just so unpredictable sometimes. And at the end of the day, Ginny will always side with him, because he’s her brother, and Harry will do the same, because he’s his best friend and because Ginny is his girlfriend. All three of them are on the Quidditch team together, and they all share common interests. I am the odd one out, and so if someone has to leave the group, it will always be me first.”

Severus was stunned. He wanted to disagree, wanted to tell her that what she was saying was wrong – but he knew that it was the truth. Just like himself, she was and would always be an outsider.

“Anyway,” Granger continued, taking a look at her wristwatch. “I think I have to go. I still want to stop by the library to pick up some books before it closes. Thank you for having me, as always.”

And with that, she stood up, straightened out her clothes and put the book she had been reading back in its place on one of the countless shelves lining the dark room before making her way to the exit. But just as she was about to disappear through the hole in the wall, she lingered for a second.

“Professor Snape?”

Severus was caught off guard by how nervous she suddenly sounded. “Yes, Miss Granger?”

She took her bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, but the other teachers normally address me by my first name when I’m alone with them. So perhaps you could do that, too? Only in private, of course.”

Severus gave her a calculated look. It probably sounded nonsensical, especially after he had already allowed her into his chambers, but he was still somewhat afraid of getting too close to her. Wasn’t using her first name taking it a bit too far? But at the same time, her request flooded his soul with a feeling of genuine happiness.

“All right … Hermione.”

*************** *************** ***************

“Come on, Hermione, I know you’re in there! Open the door!”

The brightest witch of her age was surprise to hear what sounded like frantic knocking as she climbed up the stairs leading to her Head Girl suite. It was not long until she arrived at the top and discovered a certain redhead banging on her door.

“I know you’re really mad at me, but can we please just talk about it?”

“Ginny?” she said, making the other witch jump in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“Hermione!” Ginny exclaimed before running towards her friend at the speed of light and hugging her so hard that the two of them almost tumbled over. “I am so, so sorry! I know I treated you like crap, and for a stupid reason, too! I don’t know what got into me, I’m just so stressed right now, and I let Ron get the better of me! Harry is also sorry, but Ron is still mad, and so he feels like he’s sort of caught in the middle, and –“

Hermione took a step back and offered her a smile. “Gin, it’s all right. No hard feelings, okay?”

“Oh, you are truly too good for this world!” Ginny called out before moving in for another suffocating embrace.

Hermione could not suppress a chuckle. She was still upset about how she had been treated, of course; but she had learnt a long time ago that sometimes, being happy was more important than being right. War hero or not, at the end of the day, she was just a girl, and a girl needed her best friend.

Now that their frivolous fight was finally behind them, it did not take long before the two teenagers fell back into their old ways. They soon found themselves on Hermione’s bed, with countless Muggle nail supplies spread out around them, talking about this and that. However, the newest Hogwarts gossip was not really able to awaken Hermione’s enthusiasm like it usually did. Something had been occupying her mind for a few days now, and it took her a long time before she finally mustered up the courage to bring it up.

“Hey, Gin …” she said meekly.

“Yes?” Ginny replied, biting her tongue in concentration as she carefully painted the tiny nail of one of her little toes in a pastel pink colour.

“Um …” Hermione had absolutely no idea how to broach the subject. “I need your advice on something.”

It was only then that the sixth-year looked up.

“What’s going on?” she asked concerned.

“So …” Taking a shaky breath, she decided to just make it quick and painless, like ripping off a band-aid. “I think that I might be starting to like Professor Snape.”

Oh Merlin, she had finally said it aloud! After many sleepless nights of confusion, dismay and solitary pining, she had finally admitted it – to Ginny and to herself.

Too scared of her reaction, Hermione did not dare to look Ginny in the eyes. But to her surprise, the only response was a high-pitched giggle.

“Hermione, you like all teachers. So I’m not at all surprised that you like that tosser, too. Even though I do not know how you could, especially enough to become his apprentice and –“

“No, I –“ She rubbed the back of her neck with a trembling hand. “I think I might fancy him.”

“WHAT?!” yelled Ginny as she jumped to her feet, knocking over a couple of bottles of nail polish and spilling their content all over the comforter in the process.

“Ginny, please!” she tried to calm her down, but it was to no avail – the whirlwind that was Ginevra Weasley had already been unleashed.

“You have a crush on Snape? SNAPE?! The greasy git of the dungeons? The most hated teacher in all of Hogwarts? That Snape?!”

Her look was filled with nothing but disbelief and betrayal.

“Gods, I don’t know!” Hermione’s eyes were starting to burn and fill with tears. She could not help but feel embarrassed. “I have all of these confounding feelings, and I don’t know what to make of them, okay?!”

“Hey, hey, come on! It’s nothing to cry about.” Ginny hurriedly sat back down and rubbed her back reassuringly, though she still had horror written all over her face. “Even if we’re talking about Snape here.”

A salty tear rolled down Hermione’s blushed cheek. “I don’t even know when it started, I just –“ The words got stuck in her throat as she erupted into sobs. “How can I like a teacher in that way?! Like, maybe that could even get me EXPELLED!”

Ginny pulled her into a half hug. “Now, calm down, we’ll figure this out somehow! Why do you like him?”

Hermione sniffled. “I don’t know! It’s just that he’s being so nice to me!”

“Really?” Ginny tilted her head to the left, obviously doubting the statement. “Snape and nice?”

“Yes, extremely nice!” Hermione blurted out as she wiped her flushed face with the back of her hand. “You know, after our stupid argument, I felt so sad and miserable. But then he invited me over, and we had some tea, and he let me vent. He consoled me, Gin!”

In hindsight, the brunette would later realise that she did not know how exactly he had become aware of their fallout in the first place. She certainly had never openly mentioned it in front of him. But at that moment, with her raw emotions causing mayhem inside her mind, the thought did not occur to her even once.

“You’re kidding!” Hermione could only shake her head before she broke into tears again. “Hey, I’m sorry! It’s just hard to imagine that someone like Snape might actually have some real human feelings.”

“Well, he does! I feel like he actually cares about me, you know? Like, it almost feels as though he’s my friend. He even gave me the password to his rooms so that I would have somewhere to retreat to.”

“WHA–“ Clearly forcing herself to remain calm, Ginny took a deep breath. “Are you being for real?”

“Of course! I’ve been spending time there every day!”

Shocked, Ginny put a palm on her chest. “Hold on! Severus Snape, a grown man and teacher at this school, is allowing you, a beautiful 18-year-old student of his, in his private quarters where the two of you are completely alone? Ew, what a creep!”

“It’s not like that!” Hermione protested, her facial features contorting into a grimace. “Never once has he done anything even remotely inappropriate! We just work on something together or read some books, and sometimes we eat meals together. If anything, I’m the one who has taken it too far.”

“What do you mean?” No response. “Hermione?”

“I hugged him once …”

It was merely a whisper, but she heard her nonetheless.

“YOU DID WHAT?”

Hermione hung her head, burying her hands deep in her massive brown locks. “I hugged him in the Entrance Hall during the Hallowe’en Feast. We had talked earlier about how he didn’t want to come because of how much he hates dressing up, but then he surprised me by showing up with his teeth charmed to look like a vampire and … I don’t know, I just became so excited, and before I knew it, I was hugging him!”

Ginny could only look at her, baffled-eyed. “Did he, like, hug you back?”

She thought about it for a second.

“Yeah, I think so.” She scrunched up her face. “I liked it, too.”

No one said anything for a long time. Then, letting out a forced laugh, the redhead ultimately mumbled, “Wow, I … really don’t know what to say.”

“I’m screwed!” Hermione exclaimed as she teared up again.

Ginny let out a huge sigh. “Look, at the end of the day, you cannot help who you fall for. And while I’m certainly not a fan of the Dungeon Bat myself, you definitely could have done worse.”

Ignoring the other girl’s glare, she continued, “He’s smart, just like you, and according to what you told me, he’s also treating you right. And to be honest, he’s not really as ugly as we all make him out to be. So liking him is not as ridiculous as it might sound at first. Plus, maybe this infatuation is just a phase. So many girls get crushes on their teachers at some point. Chances are by tomorrow you’re already over it.”

She grabbed her hand. “The only thing I’m worried about is how friendly you two seem to be getting. This could actually get you into major trouble should anyone notice. And it will also not help you get over this silly crush if you keep seeing him this often. So maybe just try and distance yourself for a little while, ‘kay? I bet that once this whole thing with Ron blows over, your feelings won’t be all over the place like this anymore.”

Chapter 16: Sit, Drink, Talk

(Click here for chapter 15!)

(Click here to start from the beginning!)

Disclaimer: I don’t own the “Harry Potter” book series. The story of “Harry Potter” is the property of J. K. Rowling, it is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

Severus could not help but notice a change in his apprentice’s behaviour over the next couple of days.

Unlike her last emotional low, Granger did still show up to class; however, she’d stopped raising her hand and kept her head down working quietly during the majority of the lessons. She also appeared to have changed her regular meal times, and, whenever she still could not avoid running into her “friends”, she would sit at the opposite end of the long Gryffindor table, eating alone. Sometimes, she would also just skip meals all together. And while she continued to visit his office on the daily, her mood had definitely changed as well. She seemed a lot sadder and less carefree than usual. Severus would often try to engage her in interesting discussions about potions and the like, but they would all soon fizzle out as she did not appear to want to talk much.

Severus was becoming increasingly irritated. Not only did it hurt him to see her feel that way, but he also selfishly wanted his Hermione back – the one he could spend hours quietly working on potions with, the one that would pester him with countless questions, the one that would give him a great big smile whenever she walked through his door. Now, she was only a shadow of her former self, and he hated it.

And so, he decided that he had to do something about it.

*************** *************** ***************

Hermione threw her heavy bookbag on her bed with a loud grunt. She was feeling extremely frustrated. Not only was she currently struggling to come up with a solution for an especially tricky equation that was part of the Arithmancy homework she would have to hand in the following week, but she had also been unable to cast the new spell they had learnt about in Defence Against the Dark Arts earlier today. And while it was almost dinner time now and her stomach was actually growling, she really did not feel like going down to the Great Hall and facing her estranged friends. She could not stand the way they stared at her whenever she was forced to walk past them to sit down as far away from them as possible.

She sighed as she bent over and gave Crookshanks, who was curled up at the foot of her bed, a quick cuddle. Perhaps she could sneak down to the kitchens later and manage to grab a quick bite that way. Straightening, she then turned and walked into her small study, where she sat down at her overloaded desk and began to work on trying to solve that stupid equation.

It must have been about an hour and a half later when her concentration was interrupted by an all too familiar tapping noise. Sure enough, there was a little school owl sitting on the windowsill. Hermione wrinkled her nose.

Another late-night delivery? Surely it couldn’t be …

An uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, she walked over, opened the window and made sure to give the bird a treat before carefully untying a small scroll from its left leg. After watching the animal fly away into the starry sky, she returned to her desk and unrolled the letter. Just like last time, there was no sender; however, the penmanship was all too familiar.

My office, 10.30 pm.

How strange, she thought. Why would he want to see her after curfew? Tapping her fingers against the tabletop, she allowed herself to ponder for a moment. But no matter how hard she cudgelled her brain, she simply could not come up with a plausible explanation for this ever so peculiar summoning.

Standing up, she began to pace around the room. The only possible reason he would invite her over this late that she could come up with was something forbidden, like dark magic or an illegal potion. Hermione could feel her cheeks start to burn. While she had never been one to break the rules, the thought of Professor Snape being a – for the lack of a better word – bad boy made her feel queasy in all the good ways for some reason.

Stop it, Hermione! That’s Professor Snape you are thinking of!

But with way too much time left on her hands until she was supposed to meet up with her tutor, the Muggle-born’s thoughts began to run wild: Professor Snape showing her a ground-breaking discovery he had just made, Professor Snape smuggling her out of school grounds to bring her to a secret gathering of the wizarding world’s best potioneers, Professor Snape regarding her intently as his lips were getting dangerously close to hers … Because if Hermione Granger was good at something, it was overthinking.

By the time she stole out of her tower to make her way down to the dungeons, Hermione had completely forgotten about dinner and Arithmancy. She had been too preoccupied by thoughts about the purpose of their meeting. Not by thoughts about Professor Snape, she tried telling herself; but subconsciously, she knew that she was lying to herself.

She did not know where it had come from, why her head was suddenly filled with unchaste ideas about her teacher. She was a bit too old to attribute them to pubertal confusion. All she knew was that she admired Professor Snape. He was a well-accomplished Potions Master, one of the smartest yet most mysterious people she had ever met and, if she was being honest with herself, not too bad looking either. He intrigued her, and the beating of her heart had suddenly quickened when she’d read his note. What would this encounter have in store for her?

It was a long walk from the Head Girl Tower down to the Potions professor’s office, but Hermione knew that she would not get caught. Among the perks of her position was knowing the patrol schedule as she too was sometimes required to aid school staff when it came to making rounds through the castle’s endless corridors. Her outfit was a bit more casual than what she would normally wear to see one of her teachers. She had combined a pair of light wash jeans with lined slippers and a really thick, bright-red woollen sweater, with the latter intended to protect her from the penetrating November cold – after all, Hogwarts was not exactly known for its good insulation. She had debated about whether she should have kept on her uniform but ultimately decided that Professor Snape could not expect her to be dressed formally if he sent for her past regular school hours.

It felt like an eternity had passed before she finally turned the corner and found herself in the corridor in which Professor Snape’s office was located. She knew that she was running a few minutes early, and she had actually planned to wait them out before knocking on the door; but to her surprise, the wizard was already waiting for her in the hallway. Seemingly out of nowhere, she felt her hands get sweaty.

“Good evening, Professor,” she said quietly; it was merely a whisper. “Aren’t we going inside?”

Snape mustered her for a second, noticeably surprised by her attire, and Hermione promptly started to regret her fashion choice; however, he did not comment on it. Instead, he let his voice resonate from the stone walls as he replied, “No. Tonight, we shall retreat to my private quarters. Follow me.”

And before she could get another word in, he had already spun around and was hurrying through the gloomy dungeon maze.

Hermione could feel her chest tighten painfully as she tried to keep up with the man’s long legs. “Private quarters? What in the name of Merlin is going on?!” the voice inside her head screamed. Sure, she had been in there before, but that had been during an emergency situation; she would have never thought that he would ever invite her back. Yet again, her own thoughts were threatening to overwhelm her.

Soon, they arrived at the portrait marking the hidden entrance to the professor’s rooms. Hermione could hear him mumble something under his breath before she watched the painting swing open. Almost instantaneously, she felt his hands on her shoulders. He practically pushed her inside.

Stepping into his sitting room, she immediately felt calmer. She had fallen in love with this place the very second she had first laid eyes upon it. The countless books lining the walls, the dark yet homely interior design as well as the overall cosy feeling just filled her with joy. If she were to imagine her dream home, it would definitely look something like this.

As soon as she turned around, however, her blissfulness swiftly turned into nervousness again. There he was, Professor Snape, just standing in the corner and staring at her with an expressionless face that made her whole body stiffen up. His presence was looming over her, and it somehow made her feel excited and scared to death at the same time.

You’re not twelve anymore, Hermione. He doesn’t scare you any longer. He’s still the same person you’ve been spending time with every day for weeks now!

But she simply could not help it. Merely standing next to him made her feel incredibly anxious.

“Sit down,” he all of a sudden ordered, pointing at one of the wing chairs in front of the fireplace – and without thinking, Hermione complied.

*************** *************** ***************

The only thing interrupting the silence was the crackling sound of fire. Sitting in the other identical chair just a few feet away, Severus watched the girl closely. She seemed nervous for some reason – her right leg was bouncing up and down restlessly, and she was back to gnawing at her bottom lip. Her eyes would not meet his; instead, they were clued to the floor. But he guessed that he could not blame her since it was indeed an incredibly weird situation.

Truth be told, he felt very much the same. Internally, he was chiding himself for being such a slave to his emotions. He knew that it had been wrong to invite her here, of course; that it would only make their relationship more personal which it definitely should not become. But he had just felt this inexplicable urge to do something, and, with how inexperienced he was when it came to social interactions, this was the only thing he could come up with – to try to make things better.

Admittingly, Severus was still a bit shocked by her look. He obviously knew that students often chose to wear casual clothing outside of class; after all, he had been a student at one point, too. And needless to say, he had seen her dressed in something other than her uniform before – during their coincidental confrontation in the Hospital Tower, a couple of times at Grimmauld Place, and in the memories which he had secretly viewed over a month ago, to name just a few instances. But for some reason, tonight was something else. Her outfit was definitely not special or provocative by any means, yet it threatened to disarm him wholly. The way the tight jeans hugged her curves, the way that the red of the jumper complimented her complexion – she was effortlessly breath-taking. It literally took him all of his hard-earned self-control not to start drooling right then and there.

When he had initially come up with his plan to help her feel better again, he had not thought about how it would all actually go down, and so quite frankly, the awkward silence was intimidating him a bit now. In an attempt to break the tension that currently filled the room, he conjured a silver tray with a large teapot, two dainty porcelain cups and a plate of biscuits straight from the nearby kitchens. A flick of his hand was all that was needed to propel the iron kettle into the air and command it to pour out the piping hot herbal tea. Leaning forward, Severus then handed Granger one of the cups without a word before setting the other one down on the small wooden table beside him. She accepted the beverage without complaint; however, after a few more minutes of uncomfortable silence, Severus noticed that she still had not touched it.

“Drink,” he said a little bit too loudly, making her jump. But still, she did end up taking a small sip. His own cup continued to sit on the side table untouched, where it would remain like that for the rest of the night.

Taking a deep breath to gather up his courage, he then finally managed to force out the words, “Now talk.” He prayed to the gods that she had not heard the slight crack in his voice.

“Pardon?” Granger looked up at him with her brows furrowed in confusion.

Severus gulped. This was not going well.

“Talk,” he repeated hoarsely, staring directly into her whiskey-coloured eyes.

“About what, sir?”

He was not sure when it had started exactly, but he had come to hate it when she used honorifics to address him. It merely served as a reminder of their teacher-student relationship – of how inappropriate his crush really was.

“Your … feelings.”

As expected, her mouth dropped open. “Um –“

Severus interrupted her quickly, internally starting to panic.

“Miss Granger, I simply cannot work like this! I need an apprentice who is able to dedicate herself completely to the subject of potion brewing, and the conflict with your little friends is obviously preventing you from doing so. You left me with no choice but to do something about it! If I have learnt anything from mainstream literature and cinematography, it is that women like to solve their problems by talking about them. So go ahead.” He knew that he was speaking too fast – he was painfully aware of it, in fact – but he simply could not help it. “Talk.”

Granger’s puzzled facial expression showed just how lost she was for words. “Professor Snape, I don’t –“

“This is probably the only time I will ever say this aloud, but you are truly an excellent apprentice. I enjoy working with you, and so if this is what it takes for you to become productive again, then please, by all means, speak!”

It was rather fascinating how easily readable she was sometimes; Severus was practically able to watch her inner debate with his own eyes as a whole array of different emotions washed over her face. Finally – it felt like it had been forever – she came to a decision.

“I mean, I can understand that they feel a bit let down by me, but I still don’t think that their reaction was justified,” she mumbled, the primitive dance of the flames inside the fireplace reflecting in her pupils.

Not saying anything, Severus waited until she was ready to continue. He had learnt a long time ago that most people would eventually start talking again just to make the unpleasant taciturnity go away.

“Every single year, during the height of Quidditch season, I barely get to see all three of them. But did I ever complain? No! I have always understood that that’s their passion. I have always put their needs and wants before mine. I come to every single one of their games to support them, to cheer them on – yet they complain whenever I ask them to join me for a study session at the library. But then as soon as exams roll around, I’m suddenly in high demand again …”

Barely holding back tears, her whole body began to shake, and there was nothing that Severus wanted to do more than to close the short distance between them, to hold her and calm her down like he had done that one night in his office. But he forced himself to stay put.

“I don’t even know how many assignments I have helped them with over the years. You better don’t believe that even half of the essays they have submitted to you were actually written by them. I normally take academic integrity really seriously, but shit!” Severus’ eyebrows shot up in surprise at her use of a curse word. “Ron and Harry wouldn’t even have made it past first year if I hadn’t helped them. I pretty much pushed them through six years of schooling myself, and this is the thanks I get? THEY DIDN’T EVEN CARE ENOUGH TO SPEND TIME WITH ME ON MY BIRTHDAY, BECAUSE OF FUCKING COURSE QUIDDITCH IS MORE IMPORTANT! DID I SAY ANYTHING BACK THEN?!”

The petite woman was screaming at this point.

“Do they think I enjoyed being pushed to the centre of a bloody war just because I was friends with The Boy Who Lived? Do they think I enjoyed putting my life on the line every single day starting when I was still just a child? Time after time, I saved their asses from certain death, and now that the war is over, now that I do not have to worry about that shit anymore, they get mad at me for finally doing what I enjoy?!” By now, her face was covered in tears. “How dare they fuck me over like this! HOW DARE THEY! It’s like our friendship only exists on their terms. So what if I fucking missed lunch with them? Oh yeah, because that totally cancels out the time I got FUCKING TORTURED by that bitch Lestrange; when I was almost killed but did not say a single fucking word because I had to protect them!”

Granger let out an agonised whimper as she grabbed the left sleeve of her jumper and yanked it up, revealing a horrific sight: there, on the inside of her forearm, the word MUDBLOOD was carved into her delicate flesh over and over again, marking her from her wrist all the way up to the crook of her arm. The cuts – the dozens of them that were there – must have been extremely deep, as each dark red letter was elevated noticeably from her pale skin.

Without thinking, Severus jumped out of his seat. He was by his beloved’s side in no time.

“Bellatrix,” he hissed under his breath. The witch was lucky that she was already dead, because he certainly would not have been nice to her – not after seeing this. Kneeling next to the weeping girl, he carefully held her fragile arm in his wiry hands as he nonverbally cast different diagnostic spells.

“Why have I never seen this before?!” He had known that Granger had briefly fallen into enemy hands during the final battle; but no one, neither the Order nor the Dark Lord, had ever mentioned that torture had taken place. He could feel himself get angrier by the second. “Albus should have told me!”

Granger would not meet his gaze. “I don’t think he knows. Nobody knows. I usually cover it up with a charm.”

The anguish in her voice made his heart ache.

“This looks bad,” he whispered, even as everything inside him screamed to go on a murderous rampage. “But I am sure it could be fixed. We could try an ointment, maybe a potion. If you’d just give me enough time to come up with –“

“No,” she cut him off, pulling back her arm and covering up the marks with her sleeve again. “It’s of no use. She used some type of ancient pure-blood curse so it would never go away. Trust me, I’ve tried everything.”

Severus was taken aback by the sudden lack of emotion in her voice.

“I’ll just have to live with it. It’s a daily reminder of my real place in the wizarding world … a daily reminder of how worthless the blood running through my veins really is.”

Hopelessly despaired, Severus wanted to say something – anything – to the contrary and was desperately searching for the right words. But in the end, he stopped himself; nothing he could possibly say right now would make this situation any better. He had seen his fair share of magical injuries over the years, but this was definitely one of the worst. If Granger was right – if this had really been an ancient curse – then there was nothing he or anyone else could do. The fact that she was able to cover it up when needed was already incredible and showed just how unbelievably capable she truly was.

Still wanting to comfort his little witch and show sympathy somehow, he found himself reaching out and carefully placing his hand on hers. He heard her draw a sharp breath upon contact, and for a split second, he was afraid that she would pull away from him. But then, ever so lightly, she squeezed his fingers.

They stayed in that position for a very long time, holding hands in silence as they watched the fire slowly burn out. It was not until there was only a handful of dying embers left that he spoke up again, having to clear his throat first after not saying anything in so long.

“I know that nothing could ever possibly replace your friends, but if you want to then you can come here anytime you wish. I have a lot of books that I am sure you would enjoy, and if you ever don’t feel like eating in the Great Hall, the house elves do offer rather good room service. And they are very much discreet at that, too.” His heart was beating so fast and loud that he was sure all of Scotland could hear. “I wouldn’t really mind your company either. After all, you do seem to be the only person in the entire castle that is able to hold an intellectually stimulating conversation for longer than five minutes.”

For the first time tonight, he saw the corners of her mouth lift a little.

“I’d love that,” she said softly.

Severus could not stop himself from grinning back at her.

“Great!” he exclaimed without a care in the world about whether he sounded just a little bit too enthusiastic in that moment. “Then let me just quickly jot down the password for you.”

“A-are you sure? I mean, I could just knock!”

Severus chuckled at her shocked expression as he stood up and walked over to his secretary desk.

“I think your position as Head Girl proves that you are more than trustworthy. As long as you promise me that you are over your ‘breaking in and stealing from other people’s private stocks’ phase from five years ago, I think that we should be just fine.”

Granger’s face instantly mottled crimson.

“You know that was me?” she whispered, positively mortified.

“You were sitting in the Hospital Wing a half-human half-cat. It did not take a genius to connect the dots. Besides, who do you think brewed you the antidote?”

“Oh god! Sir, I am so, so sorry! I –“

“It’s all right. Here,” he said, handing her a small piece of paper. “Come and go as you wish. Even when I am not here.”

“I, I –“ Severus could not help it – the mean professor inside him still for some reason enjoyed seeing a student stammer helplessly right in front of him. “I don’t even know what to say, sir. Thank you so much. For your kind offer and for letting me get it all out. I appreciate it, really!”

An hour later, as he laid alone in bed, Severus could only think of one thing: he never knew that Granger could swear like that.

Chapter 13: Dressed-Up Figures and Undressed Souls

(Click here for chapter 12!)

(Click here to start from the beginning!)

Disclaimer: I don’t own the “Harry Potter” book series. The story of “Harry Potter” is the property of J. K. Rowling, it is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

The remainder of the month went by in a breeze, and looking back, the Potions professor realised that it had been the happiest time of his life.

Severus still felt uneasy about his feelings towards Granger, of course; so much so that he even promised it to himself to never act on them. Quickly backpaddling on the thought that the two of them could become friends – after all, a teacher and a student becoming too close would always be weird, no matter the circumstances – he instead decided to quietly admire his beloved from afar. In a bid to distance himself from her and her enticing charms, he restricted their private lessons to the two mandatory sessions a week and made sure to drop a snide remark here and there – though they somehow never seemed as harsh anymore. It did not help, however, that the young woman seemed unfazed by all of that; she would still always show up to their meetings beaming at the Potions Master’s face.

So at the end of the day, he still could not help but experience almost juvenile-like euphoria. She liked him, too! Granted, she was not in love with him or anything, but indeed just the fact that his new object of affection liked him on a platonic level made Severus feel all kinds of ways. As a result, his behaviour seemed to change. Although he tried his best to behave like his normal mean self, he would sometimes suddenly find himself softly humming as he made his way through the castle’s countless corridors, and every once in a while, he would even accidentally chuckle at some of his colleagues’ lousy attempts at jokes over dinner. He also caught himself daydreaming about the Gryffindor more frequently, but he did not mind it that much anymore. Instead, he chose to quietly enjoy all of these new-found emotions.

As for Granger, well, she was back to her bubbly, know-it-all self. She had quickly begun to show up for class on time again, handing in excellent essays and fiercely waving her hand around trying to be “the chosen one” who got to answer questions. That behaviour also extended to their apprenticeship lessons, with her bombarding her tutor with countless questions about this and that, attempting to extract every single bit of knowledge, howsoever small, from the talented wizard’s mind. Severus could not help but be a tad bit amused by her eagerness to learn. He was still trying to maintain his reputation as the snarky, greasy-haired git of the dungeons, of course; so on the rare occasions when he actually answered one of her questions, he would do so in his typical scoffing fashion. In reality, however, he was delighted by their relatively one-sided conversations. He was utterly fascinated by the way her mind appeared to work as well as the huge range of topics in which she took an interest. After years of unsuccessfully searching for a suitable conversational partner with which to have intellectually stimulating discussions, he had finally found one – and in a member of the Golden Trio at that!

A few weeks ago, they had even taught their first class together. Severus had to admit that he had been sceptical at first about that part of the apprenticeship programme; however, Granger had done surprisingly well. Having come in prepared with a perfectly outlined lesson plan, she had no trouble properly instructing a group of second-years on how to brew the Fire Protection Potion. A nice and helpful teacher, her presence had seemed to make the pupils breathe a little easier in what is otherwise a rather strict class; some had even managed to create potions that were noticeably better than any others they’d handed in before. Though this of course did not mean that Severus planned on making any permanent changes to his personal style of teaching. The reason behind his sternness was completely logical: Unruliness had absolutely no place in his classroom, as safety always came first in a potions lab!

On one particular Thursday – the day before Halloween to be exact – the Head of Slytherin found himself in the dimly lit Potions classroom, brewing yet another one of Madam Pomfrey’s last-minute orders; unfortunately, the matron had apparently not taken to heart his elaborate lecture about ordering often-needed potions well in advance. Working side by side with his apprentice, they were preparing a batch of Antidote to Common Poisons and a few phials of Laxative Potion respectively.

Just as Severus was rummaging through his storage room in the search for some lavender essence, he heard his student speak up.

“While everyone knows that the headmaster is a – for the lack of a better word – special character, I must say that I’m still a bit dumfounded by this announcement,” her melodic voice resonated from the ancient stone walls. “Having spent the better part of my childhood in the Muggle world, I am obviously familiar with the practice. But all those scary things, those creatures that Muggles dress up as – most of them actually exist in the wizarding world! So why should we magic folk put on costumes like that? I just find it quite bizarre and …”

Finally having found the little ampoule for which he had been searching, Severus returned to his workstation as Granger continued to ramble on and on. He obviously knew what she was talking about. Just this morning at breakfast, Dumbledore had suddenly announced that this year’s Hallowe’en Feast would come with a little twist: It would be a fancy-dress party Muggle style, and everyone attending was expected to show up wearing a costume. Snape groaned at the mere thought of it. This year, the old man was just implementing one silly rule after another. Sometimes, the half-blood believed that the headmaster came up with all of his crazy antics with the sole purpose of annoying his younger colleague.

“Anyway,” the witch said, at last concluding her babbling. “What are you going as?”

Severus, who was in the process of measuring out the correct amount of Honeywater for his potion, stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the young woman with a stone-cold expression.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked snappishly.

His protégée’s hazel eyes turned big. “Oh, um, I’m talking about the Hallowe’en Feast, sir,” she stuttered rather sheepishly. “I was just wondering what your costume will be.”

“Costume? Miss Granger, am I really to believe that you would be stupid enough to assume that I, Severus Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin, would take part in such a ridiculous display of foolishness?!”

He could practically see her confidence crumble before his very eyes, and he would have lied if he said that that did not make him feel a tiny bit bad. After hectically searching for something to say for a few moments, she dropped her gaze.

“Of course not,” she then mumbled. “My apologies …”

Granger quickly turned her attention back to her project, and so Snape did the same, trying hard to ignore that slight sting he felt in his chest.

For a while, they worked in silence. Once he finished his potion, Severus began looking for the little piece of parchment paper on which Poppy had written her order, wanting to double check if he had prepared the correct amount. Following a minute-long search, he finally found it on Granger’s side of the desk. When he went to pick it up, however, he noticed a strange, scarlet red dot on it.

Confused, he turned to face his apprentice, intending to ask her about it, when he noticed what appeared to be a fair amount of blood smeared all across the girl’s chin and lips. While he had long ago taken note of her tendency to subconsciously bite her lips whenever she was anxious or scared, he had never seen it get so bad to the point that she would make herself bleed like that. Severus could not help but feel guilty about this; it had to have been his unkind reply which had caused it.

“Miss Granger,” he muttered softly. When she looked up in surprise, he handed her the white handkerchief he always carried in the left pocket of his cloak. “You are bleeding.”

He watched as she hastily brought up her right hand to her face and then stared in disbelief at the shiny red liquid which now covered her fingertips.

Not giving her a chance to speak, he said, “When I was just a mere child growing up in Muggle England, Halloween was not yet what it is today. It did exist, yes, but the act of dressing up and having little get-togethers was not as wide-spread yet.”

Walking past her to the table, Snape picked up a small, clean blade and started cutting a few sprouts of Agrimonia into small pieces.

“However, I do distinctly recall one time when the town I was living in announced that it would host a celebration in the community centre, complete with costumes and all kinds of entertaining activities. Rather untypical for that dirty hellhole, really …” He sighed. “So I spent the whole day getting ready, gathering supplies for my costume from all around the house and borrowing some of my mother’s makeup. After hours of work, I had finally finished creating my ensemble and was about to leave, excited for the hours of fun to come, when my father came home from a day at the bar.”

He looked up, meeting the gaze of his student. Her expression had confusion written all over it.

“My father was not a kind man, Miss Granger. I am afraid that I take after him quite a lot when it comes to having anger issues.” His lips formed a thin line. “He was especially not fond of anything magical. He despised my mother and I for our abilities, calling us freaks, monstrosities. When he saw that I was dressed up as a wizard, he lost it. He tore apart my carefully crafted costume before my very eyes, and that night, I received the worst beating of my life as my mother just passively watched. It was so bad that I was not able to go to school for two weeks afterward.”

Granger gasped in shock. “That’s terrible! I –, I … I am so sorry, sir.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and Severus thought that he could see tears forming in her eyes.

He waved off her concern with a simple gesture of the hand. “That was a long time ago, Miss Granger,” he said seemingly nonchalantly, but his trembling hands gave him away as he added the shredded plant to the cauldron in front of him.

“However, I do feel like it is understandable that ever since that day, I have taken a dislike to this particular festivity.” Of course, that was only half of it – but he did not think it appropriate to disclose the trauma connected to the murder of his childhood love. “And while being one of the teachers at this school has made me feel compelled to take part in the yearly feast thus far, I have decided to allow myself to refrain from participating this time.”

What followed was silence. While the seventh-year was evidently at a loss for words, Snape continued to diligently prepare the green-coloured potion. He knew that he probably should not have shared such private information with her. But for some reason, it was just so easy to open up to her, to share his painful memories with her.

It was only after he had finished the magical concoction and went to grab a box of crystalline phials for bottling that Granger said, “It’s certainly not my place to speak of your awful experiences or offer any solutions, sir. But perhaps tomorrow is your one chance to regain the experience you were so wrongfully robbed of.”

Not knowing what to answer, Severus remained quiet.

*************** *************** ***************

Even though it was now her seventh time experiencing the event, Hermione still could not help but be amazed as she entered the Great Hall.

Like every year, the huge room had been decorated in great detail for the Hallowe’en Feast. A few dozen black cauldrons stuffed with gigantic lollipops as well as large pumpkins, some filled with candy and others with candles, were distributed throughout the hall. Looking up at the Enchanted Ceiling, she could see the dark night sky with seemingly endless stars sparkling in the distance. Flying in and out of low-hanging black clouds, both live bats as well as flaming orange streamers were swooping over the long tables which were filled with sheer massive amounts of food and drinks: devilled eggs and butternut squash soup, candy apples and carrot cake, butterbeer and gillywater, roasted turkey legs and fish pie. There was even an apple bobbing station in one corner.

However, the one thing which stood out the most was admittedly the people’s attire. Students and staff alike were dressed in various costumes, some magical and some obviously Muggle-made. In a sea of creepy clowns and heavily made-up princesses, Hermione was able to spot Lavender Brown standing in a secluded nock, dressed as a gigantic pink and baby blue cupcake, flirting with a sixth-year Hufflepuff boy wearing a cheap one-piece skeleton suit. Sitting at the edge of the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy could be seen in an exquisite Victorian-era gown, appearing to be disgusted with the way his two friends Crabbe and Goyle, who were dressed as a mummy and a pirate respectively, were stuffing their faces with black pudding, roasted potatoes and mince pie.

Making her way to the Gryffindor table, Hermione made sure to say hello to Luna Lovegood as she walked past her. The eccentric witch was wearing an unidentifiable mixture of different patterned scraps of cloths paired with a wide array of flashy accessories, which was probably meant to represent some strange creature of which no one but her had ever heard. After fighting her way through the sizeable crowd, the Head Girl then finally reached her friends.

“Bloody hell, Hermione!” Ron exclaimed, waving his fork, and the piece of Beef Wellington impaled on it, at her. He was dressed in an Auror uniform. “You look smokin’ hot! You’re a sexy kitten or what?”

He flashed her a crooked smile, but she merely cringed at his lousy and rather vulgar attempt at flirting – it seemed as though he still had not got the memo that she just was not interested in him that way.

But it was in fact true that she was dressed as a cat. After taking the longest time deciding on a costume, Hermione had spent the better part of her afternoon getting ready for the feast. Throwing her outfit together from scratch, she had put on a tight-fitting, long-sleeved bodysuit and paired it with fishnet stockings and a pair of high-waisted faux leather shorts – all in black, of course. She had then used her magic skills to transfigure a pair of fuzzy socks into a headband with feline ears, followed by turning an old scarf into a tail. To top off her outfit, she had added a black lace-trimmed collar as well as high-heeled over-the-knee boots. Her makeup was kept simple, with only some basic pencil eyeliner strokes across her face to mimic a cat’s primary features, and as for her hair, well, she had just let it do its own wild thing. Granted, the outfit she was wearing was a lot more revealing than what Hermione would normally go for, but for some reason, she did not care that night. She thought that her look was fierce, and it made her feel powerful somehow.

Ignoring her pasty-skinned friend’s goggling eyes, she smiled at the couple seated next to him. Harry was dressed as a noble king, cheap plastic crown and all, and Ginny, who was sitting on his lap, was wearing a scarecrow costume. She greeted them, and they all chatted for a bit, but for some reason, something appeared a bit off with her best friend; the redhead seemed somewhat distracted. Not wanting to make a scene in front of everybody, Hermione made a mental note to ask her about it later. She was used to Harry being morose around this time of year, but seeing Ginny that unusually quiet set off red flags in her mind.

Turning her attention to the table filled with all kinds of tasty dishes, her mouth started to water. Before she helped herself to anything, however, she cast a glance at the High Table. A quick scan of the people seated at it later, she had to suppress her laughter. Sitting on the large golden chair in the middle, Professor Dumbledore instantly stood out in what was apparently a life-size replica of his favourite candy, sherbet lemon. Next to the headmaster, Professor McGonagall was sporting a kind of toned-down, more age-appropriate Snow White costume, which made her look surprisingly adorable. Professor Vector and Professor Babbling were both dressed up as Cleopatra, Madam Hooch had put on her favourite Quidditch team’s uniform, and Professor Sprout was – surprise, surprise – some sort of plant. A zombie Professor Flitwick could be seen conversing with Professor Sinistra, who was wearing a stripped burglar costume, and Hagrid was dressed in a painfully small Popeye costume. Professor Trelawney was a mouse, Professor Burbage resembled a gumdrop machine for some reason, and Lupin depicted a dog – that last one made her giggle yet again. The only one without a costume was Professor Binns, though that seemed obvious, given his ghost body.

Merely one person was missing: the Potions Master. Hermione could not help but feel a little bit disappointed. She had known that he probably would not show up, but she had still allowed herself to have some hope.

The young woman spent the next hour or so devouring Hogwarts’ finest foods while conversing and laughing with her housemates, almost forgetting about her tutor’s absence from the feast. Finally leaning back with a full stomach, she stuck her hands in the pockets of her shorts.

“What the –“

Stunned, she pulled out a tiny, folded piece of paper which had definitely not been there at the beginning of the night. Opening it under the table, out of view from her seatmates, she read the short note.

Entrance hall, now.

Hermione instantly knew whose meticulous handwriting that was. She had to give it to him, sneaking a message into the very clothing she was wearing without her noticing required skill, and she was definitely impressed. Excusing herself from the table under the pretence of having to use the bathroom, she quickly left the room through the tall double doors, forcing them apart just wide enough for her to slip through.

Once in the Front Hall, she glanced around but saw no one. Taking one more step into the room, she sharply jolted when she suddenly caught movement out of the corner of her eyes. She whipped around just in time to witness the Potions professor emerge from behind the Slytherin house point hourglass. Looking at his oval face, she could have sworn that she saw his eyes widen for a second as they wandered across her body.

“Professor Snape,” she said, a bit out of breath.

“Miss Granger, you are … a cat?” She could hear the clear disbelief in his voice, and for some reason, that made her snigger.

“Well yes, sir, it’s my costume!” She frowned as she eyed his attire. “But I can see that you stuck with your decision not to dress up.”

“That is not entirely true.”

Her eyebrows knitted in bemusement. “I don’t think I understand. You look the same as you always do.”

She could see him take a deep breath, almost as if he were psyching himself up, before he did something that she was sure no one had ever seen him do: He flashed her a big smile.

Hermione let out an audible gasp of astonishment. At first, she was too shocked to do anything but stare directly at him. Professor Snape’s smile seemed a bit unnatural and more or less forced, but she still had to admit that it made him look a lot younger and less stern. That in turn made something unfamiliar stir deep inside her, but she chose to ignore that for now.

It was only after a few moments that she noticed something odd about his teeth. His two upper incisors seemed a bit out of place. They were quite long, almost as if they were fangs. Combined with his long, dark robes, that kind of made him look like a –

“You’re dressed as a vampire!” she spat out, positively flabbergasted. When he gave an affirmative nod, she felt a rush of excitement travel through her entire body. He had actually done it! Severus Snape had dressed up at her suggestion!

Hermione knew that she was about to push her luck hard, but she was simply so overjoyed that she could not possibly control her emotions. With one big leap, she closed the distance between them and threw her arms around her teacher.

“Happy Halloween, Professor!” she rejoiced as she buried her face in the black fabric covering his broad chest.

*************** *************** ***************

He could feel the warmth radiating from her body which was tightly pressed against his. He could smell the fruity scent of her favourite shampoo coming from her voluminous locks as they tickled his beaked nose. He could hear her slightly accelerated breathing, his arms wrapped around her torso rising just a little at every breath. He could see a small birthmark, so tiny that it was almost invisible, situated at the nape of her neck. And for just a moment, he allowed himself to melt into her hug, his eyes closed shut.

Severus Snape was doomed, and he knew it. But in that exact moment, he did not care one bit.

Chapter 15: Where Your Priorities Lie

(Click here for chapter 14!)

(Click here to start from the beginning!)

Disclaimer: I don’t own the “Harry Potter” book series. The story of “Harry Potter” is the property of J. K. Rowling, it is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

“All I am saying is that I really don’t think you should be too hard on her, sir. She’s still struggling with being so far away from her family for the majority of the year,” Granger said as the pair made their way up one of the narrow staircases connecting the remote dungeons to the rest of the castle. “She’s very sensitive, you know.”

Severus snorted at her defence of the Hufflepuff student; she certainly took her job as Head Girl just too seriously sometimes.

“I do believe that this is Miss Zeller’s third year at this school now. Sensitive or not,” he spat the word out with some disgust. “It is about time that she gets a hold of herself. I already expect nothing from her, and yet she still somehow manages to disappoint me every single time that she enters my classroom.”

The witch shook her head in disagreement as she gave him a disapproving look, but Severus thought that he could see the corners of her mouth lift a little.

Reaching the Grand Staircase, their conversation shifted to something more academic: an interesting Potions Weekly article they’d both read. It really seemed as though the ice between the teacher and his student had broken even more ever since their little nighttime encounter in front of the Hospital Wing. Over the past two weeks, Granger had ventured into the dark depths of the dungeons on a daily basis; once or twice, she had even gone two times in a single day. Splitting their time between Snape’s office and the Potions classroom, the two masterminds had prepared assignments, maintained Poppy’s ever-dwindling medicine stock and even discussed the wizarding world’s newest scientific achievements here and there. Whenever there’d been time, Severus had tried to quench his apprentice’s thirst for knowledge by teaching her about exotic potions that were way too complex to even be mentioned on the regular Hogwarts syllabus. And while he had been trying hard to keep up his guard in front of his inamorata, Granger had slowly started to share more and more personal details of her life during each exchange – like the time she had opened up about the pressure put on her from a very young age by her dentist parents to live the healthiest lifestyle possible. “Can you believe that I never had a bite of chocolate before my very first ride on the Hogwarts Express? That was the first time that I’d ever been without their supervision. I felt like I had committed a criminal act!”

Deeply engaged in their discussion about a particularly fascinating part of the article, the both of them startled in unison when the large, old door leading to the Great Hall suddenly swung open just a few feet ahead of them. Out came three familiar figures: A tall and lanky freckled ginger and another slightly smaller boy with untidy jet-black hair who had his arm slung loosely around the shoulders of a thin redhead.

“Oh!” Granger let out a small gasp as she recognised her peers. “I’m sorry, Professor, but I need to go now. I think that I’ll spent the evening studying since I have the feeling that there is going to be a surprise quiz tomorrow in Charms; but I’ll try to stop by in the morning before breakfast to drop off those essays I corrected last week, if that would be all right?”

All Severus could do was to give her a curt nod before he watched her run off after her idiotic friends.

*************** *************** ***************

“Hey, you guys! Wait up!”

Hermione greeted her fellow Gryffindors with a big smile when they finally turned around to face her. With a few more bounding strides, she caught up to them.

“Where are you going? I thought that we were having lunch together today.” It took her a moment to catch her breath. “You know, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Instead of a response, all she was met with were three blank stares. After several excruciatingly long seconds of awkward silence, it was Harry who spoke up first.

“Hermione, lunch ended ten minutes ago. We waited over an hour for you,” he said softly.

“What?!” It only took the brunette one quick look at her trusty wristwatch to realise that he was right. “Merlin, I am so sorry! I didn’t notice that it’s already this late …” she muttered perplexed.

“This is the fourth time you have stood us up now!” snapped Ron, his ears turning red. “What were you even doing that’s more important than your own friends?”

“Professor Snape and I were just finishing up some potions to use in a demonstration for the second-years on Friday. I’m really so sorry, I didn’t think it would take this long!”

“Hermione, you’ve been spending an awful lot of time down there with that git lately,” Ginny said with a slight pout on her face. “We barely get to see you anymore.”

“Well, I guess it’s true that the apprenticeship is taking up a lot of my time and energy at the moment. Together with my duties as Head Girl, I –“

“It just feels like you care a lot more about Snape and his stupid potions than you do about us,” Ron interrupted her, his lips nothing but a thin line.

Hermione looked absolutely baffled. “But that’s not true! I love you guys, and you know that! I admit that perhaps I’ve been spending a little bit too much time with Professor Snape as part of my studies, but I have just been … I guess I didn’t realise that –“

“Yeah, you didn’t realise, just like you never do. With you, it’s always just books and grades.” The youngest Weasley boy snorted. “Let’s go!” he then gestured to the other two to follow him as he stormed off in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

Ginny did not even say a single word before turning to follow her older brother, her gaze pinned to the floor. Harry, however, gave his best friend a quick shoulder squeeze paired with an empathetic look before running off as well.

Before she knew it, Hermione was all alone. Still somewhat in a state of shock, her bottom lip began to quiver, and it looked like she was holding back tears as she too wandered off, most likely to seclude herself in the library, entirely unaware that a pair of dark eyes was following her.

Chapter 11: Just A Filthy Mudblood

(Click here for chapter 10!)

(Click here to start from the beginning!)

Disclaimer: I don’t own the “Harry Potter” book series. The story of “Harry Potter” is the property of J. K. Rowling, it is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

Over the course of the following month, there was a noticeable cold distance between the Potions Master and his apprentice. Somehow, his snarky comments following the brewing accident seemed to have affected the young witch a lot more than any of his other equally mean remarks in the past. As a result, she stopped raising her hand during class and was always the last one to enter and the first one to leave the gloomy dungeon room – if she showed up at all, that was.

Severus knew that it was very much unlike her to skip class, of course; but he left it at deducting points whenever she did. At the end of the day, she was Minerva’s responsibility and not his. In fact, he was rather glad about the change in her behaviour. He was glad that her essays, which had used to be so elaborate and verbose, were now kept to a minimum and soon turned dull, reading no different to other students’ work. He was even more glad that she wouldn’t make eye contact with him and only gave one-word answers as needed, even during their private lessons. Her complete refusal to communicate with him made it a hell of a lot easier to get her out of his head. After a few weeks, he stopped having indecent thoughts about her all together which finally put his mind at ease – that silly infatuation had only been a phase after all.

Or at least that was what he believed until one fateful Friday evening in mid-October.

Snape was sitting at the cluttered desk in his dark office, grading papers about Lobalug venom and its uses in potions written by his third-year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students. The essay in front of him at that very moment was starting to turn into a sea of red ink and Severus rolled his eyes in frustration. While they certainly had their good qualities, he had yet to encounter a Hufflepuff with a single ounce of talent for potion brewing.

Just as he was about to write a particularly nasty comment at the bottom of the three-foot-long parchment roll, there suddenly was the sound of commotion coming from outside the door.

“Piss off!” the deep voice of a man could be heard resonating through the dungeon hallway.

“No!” Severus instantly matched the high-pitched tone of the second person to Granger. “As Head Girl, it is my duty to protect all students from any physical or emotional harm, and I clearly saw you use the Stinging Hex on poor little Stewart Ackerly as he was going up the Grand Staircase. So whether you like it or not, you will be accompanying me to your Head of House for appropriate disciplinary action at once!”

“Listen here, you minger!” the male retaliated angrily. “I will not be told what to do by someone like you, do you fucking understand?! I do not give a shit about what stupid little title that knobhead of a headmaster gave you or what idiotic principles you think you need to uphold – I will not be bossed around by a Mudblood! The war may be over, but don’t think for a second that you will ever be more than the scum of the earth! Your kind shouldn’t even be allowed at this school!”

When Severus then heard a loud bang directly followed by a squealing outcry, he finally jumped out of his chair and rushed to the door. By the time he had pushed it open and run into the secluded corridor, Theodore Nott had already cornered Granger in an alcove, pushing her significantly smaller frame against the mouldy stone wall as his wand was buried deep in the flesh of her throat.

“I should really just take you out here and now. Not that anyone would care about one less rotten Mudblood tainting –“

All the Potions professor needed was one simple hand movement to nonverbally and wandlessly disarm the Slytherin and catapult him several feet into the air, eliciting an anguished yelp upon impact with the hard ground. Meanwhile, the now freed witch dropped to the floor. Breathing heavily, she struggled to contain her tears as her hand shot up to rub her flushed neck.

“Miss Granger, would you please go into my office and wait there while I … take care of this situation,” Severus muttered, dangerously calm as he walked towards the young pure-blood cowering in front of him.

“But –“

“Now, Miss Granger.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her frantically use the sleeve of her grey sweater to wipe her reddened eyes as she slowly got back up on her feet, throwing once last glance at her assailant before brushing past them and disappearing into the office.

Once Snape heard the lock latch, he grabbed the boy at his feet by the collar and violently pushed him against the wall, much like the wimp had done to the Gryffindor just seconds earlier.

“Mr Nott,” he basically spat the name into the lanky adolescent’s face. “Just what is it that you think you are doing?! Not only did you defy the orders of the Head Girl – someone who has nearly as much disciplinary power as any professor at this school, mind you – but you also just threatened and physically assaulted another student!”

He could practically smell the teenager’s fear. “But Professor, she deserved it! A Mudblood like her –“

“DO NOT EVER DARE TO USE THAT WORD IN MY PRESENCE AGAIN!” Severus roared, the veins of his neck protruding painfully. “Now that the Dark Lord is gone, I will no longer be tolerating this kind of behaviour at this school! Slytherin or not, you would do better to keep your idiotic prejudices to yourself – because if I ever hear you or anyone else use such terminology again, you will learn the hard way that there are worse things to go through other than the Cruciatus Curse, believe me!” With that, he pushed Nott away from him.

“To show you just how unacceptable your behaviour was, I shall deduct 250 points from Slytherin,” he continued, not giving him a chance to speak. “In addition, you will be serving detention twice a week for the rest of the school year; I do believe that Mr Filch could use some help scrubbing the toilets. You will also no longer be permitted to attend any Quidditch games or take part in any Hogsmeade weekend visits. Oh, and I shall also deduct another 50 points for your assault on that Ravenclaw boy.”

Giving him one last scowl, he pointed down the hallway. “Now, get out of my sight!”

Severus watched on in disgust as Nott hurriedly picked up his wand before scurrying off into the depths of the dungeons. Taking a few minutes to regain his composure, he remembered himself around that age.

An outside and a misfit, he had always tried so very desperately to fit in. He’d only had one real friend in his entire lifetime who had truly cared for him – Lily. But in his foolish arrogance, he had managed to screw even that up. It had been then that he had made the biggest mistake of his life: joining Voldemort’s ranks and becoming a Death Eater.

Subconsciously rubbing his left forearm, he felt disappointed in how ignorant he had been. Looking back, it was so easy to see the stupidity of it all – bitter witches and wizards who hadn’t been able to accept the fact that the blood purity they so frantically tried to cling onto no longer possessed any significance whatsoever and a maniac who had turned himself into a monster trying to become immortal. Severus may not be able to change the past, but he would be damned if he let this idiocy carry on any longer.

Shaking his head, he turned around and went back into his office. At first glance, he thought that Granger had somehow managed to sneak out while he had been telling her attacker off as he couldn’t detect her anywhere in the little room. But then he discovered her sitting on the old, rickety three-legged stool he kept in the back corner, her legs hugged tightly to her body.

“Miss Granger –“

At his words, she abruptly startled up, and Severus could see her tear-streaked face. She was a blubbering mess. An agonised sob escaped her mouth before she quickly hid her face behind her hands.

Stunned, Severus walked over to her and carefully placed his hand on her quivering shoulder, trying very hard to ignore how his heart seemed to skip a beat as he touched her.

“Miss Granger,” he repeated. But yet again, he only received more pitiful whimpers in response.

Snape let out a deep sigh before squatting down in front of her. While he had made many students cry in his days, he had never tried to console one before.

“Please look at me, Miss Granger. Why are you so distraught?” he asked in what he believed to be a soothing tone.

After a few more sniffles and sobs, her shaking voice could finally be heard coming from underneath the mountain of untamed curls.

“He’s right,” she said softly, keeping her face well-hidden.

Severus frowned. “Certainly not. Even though Mr Nott may be of a different opinion, the positions of Head Girl and Head Boy are important ones that have proven themselves useful for many centuries now and – “

“No,” she interrupted him hoarsely. “He’s right about me being a Mudblood.”

Severus was flabbergasted. “Don’t say –“

“BUT IT’S TRUE!” she practically screamed, her head shooting up to reveal the anguished expression on her blotchy face. “Voldemort may be dead, but things haven’t changed! In people’s eyes, I will always be worth less because I am Muggle-born. It doesn’t matter how hard I try; even if I’m the best at everything, I will never be more than a, a –“

A lone tear escaped her chocolate brown eyes. “A filthy Mudblood.”

When Severus didn’t react immediately, still too dumbfounded to speak, she grimaced bitterly before jumping up and bolting for the door.

“Miss Granger, don’t –“ he pleaded, grabbing her by the wrist which in turn caused her to lose her footing and fall back onto him. Unable to remain upright following the accidental collision, he soon found himself on the dusty floor, with the bawling girl lying on top of him.

Severus promptly tried to get back up again, embarrassed by the sudden physical contact, but Granger just sobbed even louder and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

Fuck. Fuck. What is she doing?!

He momentarily panicked, not knowing what to do. But then – following a sudden urge inside of him that could only be described as the basic human instinct to comfort the suffering – he awkwardly embraced her shaking frame and started to slowly stroke her back.

“Miss Granger,” he muttered gently, the words leaving his mouth seemingly involuntarily. “I might have to obliviate you after saying this, but believe me when I say that you are worth more than all of Britain’s pure-bloods combined. This school has never seen a pupil as brilliant and smart as you. It is not your fault that those backward-thinking fanatics cannot come around to accept that one’s blood status has nothing to do with one’s magical abilities, you being the best example for that. You are not worth less just because you were born to non-magical parents. If anything, you are superior to those of us who grew up solely in the wizarding community, as you can move around the Muggle world freely without causing much of a stir – you’ve got the best of both worlds, really!”

When his lousy attempt at a joke was met with only more wailing and trembling, he hurriedly carried on with his speech. “Besides, you are a war hero, Miss Granger! If it hadn’t been for your wits and resourcefulness, Potter would have been killed a long time ago; probably not even at the hands of the Dark Lord but rather due to a botched brewing attempt or the like. You played a key role in the downfall of the most dangerous wizard to have ever existed, and any Death Eater that is still left out there as well as those who continue to sympathise with that antiquated mindset would do better to fear you. I mean, none of my Slytherins were even brave enough to become my apprentice. Tell me how anyone could claim themselves to be of superior descent if they cannot even bring themselves to face the bat of the dungeons? Not that any of them would have been academically ambitious enough anyway …”

Severus made a small pause before he continued, “As hard as it may be, do not let their ignorant remarks get to you, and do not let yourself be consumed by hatred for them either, as there is already enough hate in the world as it is. If anything, feel pity for them. Their dim-witted pride occupies them so much that they cannot even get any joy from life. They let themselves be controlled by their fear of becoming insignificant, of losing the power they once held. They cannot admit to themselves that they have nothing left but their half-burned family tapestries filled with incest and tragedy. And once they come to their senses and realise their mistakes – which hopefully, they one day will – be the bigger person and forgive them. The heavy burden of their sins will be punishment enough. I –“

He struggled to find the right words. “I myself am guilty of such a shameful past, and I have spent the last 20 years paying for it. Unfortunately, some people do not seem to learn from history, and it truly mortifies me to see my Slytherins, the students of my beloved house, follow in the footsteps of their misguided parents. It’s … it’s just not right and it never will be.”

No longer audibly crying, the girl in his arms appeared to have at last been calmed down by his words, and Severus was glad about that; just like many men, he was absolutely terrified of a woman’s tears. Taking a deep breath, he finally did what he had done so rarely in life and never to a student at that: He apologised.

“My actions towards you were so often intolerantly mean, Miss Granger. Not only regarding the unfortunate incident with the Boil Cure, which was really caused by my carelessness rather than yours; but also all the years I let you and your …” Trying not to upset her any further, he searched for a neutral word to use for her dunderhead friends. “Peers suffer from my admittingly despotic teaching style. I had to uphold a certain façade, of course; considering that I was still pretending to be on the Dark Lord’s side. However, I often took it too far. Especially you, Miss Granger, should not have been put through all that, as you were an excellent, outstanding student. I know that I certainly do not deserve it, but I hope that you can find it in your heart to one day forgive me.”

Not daring to breathe, he waited for a response – but there was none. Granger remained completely quiet.

Sheer terror arose inside him. Had he gone too far? Did she feel cornered by his sudden confession? Oh, he knew that he shouldn’t have done that! Opening up to anyone – particularly a student – was just asking for trouble. Now she would undoubtedly go out and tell all of her moronic little friends about how much of a weak pussy he really was, and then they would never take him seriously ever again! Just the thought of it was enough to cause him to abruptly become irate.

“Enough of this nonsense,” he said in his typical cold and threatening voice. “For your pathetic behaviour, I shall deduct 40 points from Gryffindor. House of the brave, my arse! Now, get off me at once!”

Still, no response.

“Miss Granger?” Severus asked a bit less forcefully this time, a look of slight confusion appearing on his face. “Miss Granger! … Hermione?”

Just then, a loud snore escaped Granger’s lips – she had fallen asleep minutes ago.

Not wanting to wake her up now that she had finally settled down, Severus carefully readjusted her position on his body and let his head fall back until it came to a rest on the stone floor. He would wait a while to make sure that she was properly asleep before moving her off him and getting back to work. And meanwhile, he would just ignore that stupid feeling forming in his stomach.

Yes, that’s what he would do.

*************** *************** ***************

When Hermione woke up the next morning, her body was aching terribly, but at the same time, she felt extremely well-rested. To tell the truth, she hadn’t slept that well since her fifth year. Sirius’ death had made it all real back then, and she had been battling terrible nightmares ever since. A faint smile appeared on her face – maybe those days were finally behind her!

Her eyes still closed, she snuggled up closer to the life-size teddy bear behind her which her older cousin had won for her at their town’s fair more than a decade ago. Only that teddy bears normally didn’t groan or pull you closer to them – and so the brunette was abruptly wide-awake.

Understandably shocked and confused, Hermione’s eyes flew open, but she immediately flinched in pain; for some reason, her eyelids were swollen and hurt when she tried to open them. How weird, had she been crying?

A quick wandless healing spell later, she was finally able to take in her surroundings. Not that this helped her confusion at all: All she could see was a dark room, dimly lit by a few magically enchanted candles fixed to a dark grey stone wall. Was she in the dungeons? If so, she certainly couldn’t remember how she got there. And why was she lying on the floor? The young woman was quite frankly baffled.

Just then, her “teddy bear” called attention to himself yet again with another loud grunt, reminding her of what had caused her to wake up in the first place. By now, she was certain that whoever was behind her wasn’t her beloved stuffed animal, of course; as it was not only a mere Muggle product without the ability to move or make sounds, but it had also been located on the bed in her childhood room the last time she’d seen it. So who was it that was holding onto her with that grip made of steel?

She frantically ran through the possibilities in her head and for a split second, she even believed herself to have been kidnapped by one of the few remaining Death Eaters still at large, but she quickly dismissed that thought; one of Voldemort’s fanboys surely wouldn’t be hugging her spoon-style.

The next scenario that her mind came up with was a drunken night that had ended in a make-out session with some random guy. Not that she had ever done anything like that before, but that was what always happened in the movies, right? She couldn’t remember getting drunk; however, Hogwarts was famous for its secret student parties. Normally, it would have been her job as Head Girl to prevent those, but what if she had got herself caught up in something just this once?

Hermione furrowed her brows. Oh god, what if it was Ron?! Had she finally given into his advances? She couldn’t help but feel sick to her stomach at the thought of his bloated lips kissing her mouth and his pasty hands roaming her body. If that was really what had happened, then their friendship would be over – there was just no way she could ever look him in the eyes again.

And so even though she would rather not know, she simply had to find out whose hands were holding onto her waist at this very moment. Gulping, she slowly turned her head towards the person behind her. But instead of seeing the expected ginger head of hair and the freckled face of her best friend, she was looking straight into the sleeping face of Severus Snape.

“Oh no,” the girl whispered, her eyes wide in shock. “Oh no, no, no, no, no! What the –“

When the sudden noise caused him to stir, she quickly covered her mouth with her hand – it wouldn’t do any good to waken the Dungeon Bat before she had figured this whole situation out.

After what felt like an eternity, the wizard finally settled down again, and it was only after her lungs started to ache that Hermione realised that she had been holding her breath.

Okay, Hermione, relax! There has to be a reasonable explanation as to how you and Professor Snape ended up like this. Just think!

Purposely avoiding looking in her cuddling partner’s direction, Hermione racked her brain – but she simply could not come up with a plausible reason for their current situation. She didn’t have any classes taking place in the dungeons on Friday evenings and she also couldn’t remember having any extra apprenticeship lessons scheduled with her tutor; not that she would have had agreed to one in the first place. So why had she come down here? And what’s more, what had led to her and Professor Snape cuddling on the cold floor of his office?

Already close to a panic attack, the previous night’s events finally came back to her: How Theodore Nott had attacked her. How Professor Snape had come to her rescue. How she had been able to hear him tear the Slytherin apart. How she had broken down crying. How she had tripped and fallen onto her teacher who had then tried to comfort her. How safe she had felt in his strong arms before drifting off to sleep.

Hermione’s relief about this G-rated explanation was short-lived, however, because she soon noticed how her professor’s face was just a mere inch away from hers. Being this close to him felt so embarrassingly intimate that she couldn’t help her face turning beet red. She made a feeble attempt to remove his arms from around her body, but that just caused him to squeeze her even tighter. Merlin’s pants, what was she supposed to do now?

Trying to ignore Snape’s soft snoring, she pondered for a few seconds before ultimately reaching down between them. After some awkward fiddling, she finally managed to extract her wand from the pocket of her skirt. A basic conjuring spell later, she was holding a fairly large white pillow in her hands.

She took a shaky breath – so far, so good. Now came the tricky part: In one swift movement, she slipped out from between his arms while simultaneously replacing her form with the cushion. While the Potions Master certainly didn’t seem too happy about losing his cuddly toy – Hermione could have sworn that she even saw him pout for a split second – he soon settled back down. His apprentice exhaled in relief.

Trying not to make a sound, she stood up and quickly made herself presentable again by smoothing out her rather wrinkly clothes and fixing her tousled hair. Checking her wristwatch, she realised that it was only 4.53 a.m. – with a bit of luck, it was still early enough for her to sneak back to her tower without anyone noticing.

But just as she was about to head for the door, Hermione took another look at the sleeping man. Snape looked surprisingly peaceful as he lay there, with a five o'clock shadow gracing his cheeks and a bit of drool coming out of the corner of his half-open mouth. He definitely didn’t look as angry or threating anymore, that was for sure. Not that Hermione had ever been scared of him; she had never truly believed him to be that mean monster all the other students – especially her fellow Gryffindors – made him out be. Yes, he had definitely intimidated her during her younger years and he had even made her cry once or twice. But knowing that he had been putting his life on the line trying to save the world from Voldemort, Hermione had always respected and trusted the Potions professor. He was one of the good ones, regardless of how grumpy and nasty he could be. And while he had deeply hurt her feelings with his mean words following the accident, she couldn’t be mad at him anymore after his actions from the previous night. He had not only saved her from an attack, but he had also tried to console her.

A small smile appeared on her lips as she stepped closer to his sleeping figure. Leaning forward, she examined his face. While he certainly wasn’t a classic beauty, he could still be considered handsome. His hair looked a bit uncared for and his nose was a little too big, but with that strong jawline and those prominent black eyebrows, that only added to his rugged and manly look.

He looked so calm and content in that moment that Hermione almost reached out her hand to touch his cheek. Instead, she swiftly conjured a blanket with which she covered his resting form. She then walked over to his desk, which was still filled with dozens upon dozens of documents and essays, and ripped a small piece of parchment paper off a blank roll. Using Snape’s golden quill, she quickly scribbled down some words before quietly moving to the door and leaving the room, the dark-haired wizard still sound asleep on the floor.

*************** *************** ***************

It was not even an hour later when Severus opened his black eyes. Still dazed, he let out a hoarse grunt as he propped himself up on one elbow. He wasn’t surprised about waking up in his office; he had oftentimes found himself there after being summoned by the Dark Lord and spending long nights at Death Eater raids. However, he had never woken up with a pillow underneath his head and a fluffy blanket draped across his body.

Following a brief moment of confusion, he remembered the previous night.

I must have fallen asleep as well.

After a quick scan of the room, he was sure that he was alone. Feeling a heavy migraine approaching, Severus let out a deep sigh before climbing to his feet. He didn’t even want to think about the Gryffindor’s opinion on him now.

With a simple flick of his wand, he swiftly sleeked down his jet-black hair and made his beard stubbles disappear before making his way to the desk. While he felt absolutely whacked physically, he had to admit that he had slept surprisingly well. In fact, he hadn’t slept that well since his own years as a student. Severus frowned. Not that that had anything to do with the little know-it-all, he told himself.

Slumping into his leather chair, he was just about to reach for one of the bottom drawers in search of some bottle of hard liquor to drown his memories of the previous night in when he noticed a short note written in that small, neat handwriting he knew all too well sitting on top of a pile of yet to be corrected essays.

Thank you. – H.

As he read the brief scribble, he could feel a strange, warm feeling that he hadn’t known in about two decades creep through his body.

Shit.

He was starting to like Granger.

Chapter 12: A Friend For The Lonely Beast At Last

(Click here for chapter 11!)

(Click here to start from the beginning!)

Disclaimer: I don’t own the “Harry Potter” book series. The story of “Harry Potter” is the property of J. K. Rowling, it is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

The following days went by way too fast, and the weekend was over before Severus knew it.

He had spent the two chilly autumn days locked away in his quarters, not leaving the cold confines of the dungeons even once. While he would normally spend his free days hunting for rare potion ingredients and interesting literature or working on improving his already impeccable brewing technique, he had passed the past 48 hours buried beneath countless pillows and thick blankets in his large four-poster bed. The only contact to the outside world had been provided by the school’s ever-diligent house elves, who had both kept the Potions Master’s rooms clean and delivered warm meals three times a day – not that the man had touched much of the food.

On Monday morning, Severus woke up with a throbbing headache. A quick look at his watch told him that breakfast was probably already in full swing, but he didn’t feel like eating. Most of all, however, he didn’t feel like facing a certain brunette before he absolutely had to. So instead, he got up and moved to the bathroom with sagging shoulders.

As he was standing in the shower a few minutes later, letting the icy cold water pour over his lithe body, he tried hard to ignore the intrusive thoughts that had been plaguing him all throughout the past days. They all had something to do with some newly discovered and rather confusing feelings for a little know-it-all, of course.

While he had dismissed his earlier impure thoughts about Granger as the simple result of prolonged abstinence, these confounding emotions were of a whole new calibre. Physical attraction was one thing; he could deal with that. But fancying one of his own students – let alone maybe falling in love with them – was simply too much. It made him feel almost physically ill.

Severus had never been one to handle his own feelings well, and his relative inexperience when it came to the opposite sex – especially in the romantic sense – only added to his confusion and uncertainty. The only woman he had ever been interested in, the only one he had ever loved, was Lily. And he had always thought that she was the love of his life. Even almost two decades after her violent death, her mental image was still looming over his scarred heart. The redhead had been the one thing that had kept him going throughout the war; she had been the only reason he had tried so desperately to keep that stupid Potter boy alive – and the only reason he had continued to live.

But now, he was slowly but surely starting to question all that. Whatever it was that he was beginning to feel towards Granger was so different and so much more intense than anything he had ever experienced before. Somehow, it even felt more powerful than his love for Lily had ever been to begin with. And over the weekend, the wizard had come to the shocking conclusion that the only reason he had ever been that obsessed with his childhood sweetheart was because she had been one of the few people to ever show a genuine interest in him as a person. Whether Severus liked it or not, he had always been someone who craved the attention and acceptance of others. That had been the main reason he had joined the ranks of the Dark Lord in the first place. Lily had been his friend, she had treated him with respect; and teenage-him had mistaken that for love. Looking back, he realised that it had never been her that he’d been craving; it had been her kindness towards him. The fact that his personal archenemy had also quickly started to show an interest in her had only made Snape more determined to make her his, of course.

His feelings towards Granger were of a different nature. She had never been his friend; in fact, Severus was pretty much sure that she hated him just as much as the rest of the student body – even if she never really showed it. So it wasn’t her continued affection he desired. No, he wanted her. He wanted to run his calloused fingers through her voluminous curls, he wanted to listen to her babble on for hours about some random boring topic, he wanted to hold her and sleep next to her like they had done in his office. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t striving to possess a woman but rather to give himself to her – and it was driving him absolutely insane. Even forgetting the fact that she was his pupil and personal apprentice, those feelings still managed to make him feel vulnerable and weak.

The half-blood sighed before stepping out of the shower and drying himself off with a towel. He took his time with the rest of his morning routine, but it didn’t take long before he found himself in the Potions classroom, surrounded by an annoying, hyperactive flock of second-years. And unfortunately, it seemed to only take a blink of an eye before those young students were then soon replaced by the seventh-years – with Hermione Granger being on time for the first time in weeks.

Severus noticed her presence instantly. She looked the same as always – her brown mane was pulled back into a classic Dutch braid, and her spick and span uniform was topped off with her polished Head Girl badge – yet somehow, the sight of her gave him an armada of butterflies in his stomach. She must have noticed his intense gaze, too; as she gave him a quick but radiant smile before hurrying to her usual seat in the front row. He would have lied if he had said that that small gesture didn’t make his dark heart jump a little.

Staggered by his inner turmoil, the professor frowned as he waited for the class to settle down. As soon as the last chitchat faded away, he briskly made his way towards the front of the classroom. Lightly tapping his wand against the black board, a dozen or so rows of brewing instructions appeared.

“Today –“

He let out a small cough, trying to get rid of that sudden lump in his throat.

“Today, you will be brewing Doxycide. Now, as you all surely are aware, this specific potion has the purpose of temporarily stunning Doxies. These fairy-like creatures are common household pests, so this remedy will likely prove useful to each and every one of you at some point. As anyone with even just a handful of braincells would know, these beasts are –“

The Gryffindor’s eyes were following his every move, and he was uncomfortably aware of that. They seemed to burn through his skin right into his soul.

“Um … bad.”

The little slip-up had an instant impact. There was immediate commotion, with loud chatter practically bouncing between the heads of shocked teenagers, and Severus’ eyes grew big as he unsuccessfully tried to mask his own surprise – never in his entire career as a teacher had he ever tripped over his own tongue like this before!

Not having the slightest clue how to handle this most unprecedented situation, he simply muttered a quick “The required ingredients can be found in the supply cupboard. You may get started.” before disappearing into his office, his long black robes whirling up around him as he did so.

*************** *************** ***************

Snape waited an extra ten minutes following the chime of the old Clock Tower before finally emerging from his hiding place, making certain to give the students enough time to finish up their potions, clean their workspaces and leave.

As he re-entered the dark teaching lab, he scrunched up his large nose at the foul smell of Doxycide; while he’d become inured to most unpleasant smells over the years, he for some reason still could barely stand the solution’s disgusting stench. Nonetheless, he marched to his desk and was just about to sit down and organise the countless parchment rolls spread across the table when a soft voice suddenly caressed his ears.

“Professor Snape?”

Startled, he spun around. Standing on the doorstep, there was Granger. Her heavy book bag swinging from her delicate shoulders, she was holding another three or four books in her arms. Over the course of the lesson, some of her locks had become undone and were now framing her freckled face nicely.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t mean to take you by surprise!” Biting her bottom lip, she gave him a quick grin.

“Miss Granger, I …” Severus was at a loss for words. Trying hard to ignore his beating heart, he was frantically searching for something, anything to say. Never before had he struggled for words like this in front of a student.

When he didn’t continue, Granger stepped into the room and said, “Oh, well, I apologise for ambushing you like this, but after what happened last Friday, I really feel like we should talk.”

“Fuck!” Severus thought panicked. “Now she will accuse me of being a bloody pervert! What kind of teacher falls asleep hugging a student, anyways?! You really should have known better, Severus! She has probably already reported you to that duffer of a headmaster and demanded to switch apprenticeships! Hell, the whole school likely already knows about that little slumber party, what were you –“

“Thank you.”

Snape was completely taken aback. “Wh-what?”

Her rosy cheeks became even redder. “I would like to thank you, sir. What you did for me was more than kind. The way you defended and comforted me … I cannot express my appreciation enough.” She flashed him another shy smile. “Oh, and also thank you for sending that house elf up to my rooms with my belongings after I ran off. That was very thoughtful of you.”

Severus could only stare at her, his mouth slightly agape. “So … you are not going to switch to another professor?” he asked meekly, the disbelief in his voice clearly audible.

Granger laughed nervously. “No, of course not,” she answered as she fiddled with the cuticle of her right middle finger. Furling her eyebrows, her gaze then wandered to the floor. “If anything, I’m here to apologise for my behaviour over the past couple of weeks. I just … overreacted, I guess.”

There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, during which the flustered wizard did not allow himself to breathe. Could it really be that she was grateful for his actions? Perhaps she didn’t dislike him after all? While he would never – could never – permit himself to give into his irrational emotions, Severus let himself believe for just a split second that maybe, just maybe, the two of them could become something like friends instead.

Don’t be stupid! She may not hate you, but she still thinks of you as nothing more than an old, crusty codger.

Or did she? Helplessly overwhelmed by his inner conflict, he simply had to know the witch’s true feelings. Meeting her hazel eyes with his, Severus silently and effortlessly delved into Granger’s smart mind. As soon as he entered, he was amazed – he had never encountered such an extraordinary brain before. He didn’t have time to marvel at it, however, as he was in a hurry to search for any thoughts concerning his person before the Muggle-born would notice his presence inside her head.

Once he found them, however, he was stunned – there was not the least bit of hatred or disgust. Instead, Severus was rushing through a vortex of muddled memories.

First, he found himself in his own classroom more than six years ago, watching a slightly younger version of himself hold his typical introductory speech in front of a bunch of bright-faced 11-year-old Slytherins and Gryffindors. Looking around, he soon spotted a familiar bushy-haired, buck-toothed girl. Concentrating on her, he was able to feel the astonishment and admiration radiating from her.

The next memory seemed to be a couple of years younger, located yet again in the dungeon classroom. He saw himself aiding to a hurt Neville Longbottom lying on the ground after what seemed to have been another botched brewing attempt. Standing amongst the crowd of students gathered around the scene, a fourth-year Hermione Granger was looking at the two of them with both worry and fondness in her eyes. To Severus’ surprise, the latter seemed to be directed at both of them equally. He didn’t have a lot of time to process this, however, as the image promptly vanished before his own eyes.

The last distinct memory was only a few months old, taking place in a little suburban town somewhere in Muggle England. A casually dressed Granger was sitting on a small twin bed situated in what he suspected to be her bedroom. He raised an eyebrow at the various shades of green that the room was arranged in before stepping closer to the young woman. She was presently bend over a piece of parchment paper, and upon closer inspection, he realised that it was a letter from Hogwarts – an application for the apprenticeship programme, to be more exact. He watched as she used a small beige-coloured quill to fill in Professor Severus Snape next to the words Desired Tutor. Looking at her bare, makeup-free face, his breath was taken away when he saw her grin broadly, seemingly filled with excitement. Astonished, Severus slipped back into reality.

“Is everything okay, sir?” Granger asked with obvious concern in her voice, blissfully unaware that her privacy had just been invaded.

Snape gulped. “Yes, Miss Granger. Everything is quite all right.”

And when the girl smiled at him this time, he couldn’t help but smirk back at her. Perhaps they could become friends, after all.

Chapter 10: Oh, How Intimate First Names Can Be!

(Click here for chapter 9!)

(Click here to start from the beginning!)

Disclaimer: I don’t own the “Harry Potter” book series. The story of “Harry Potter” is the property of J. K. Rowling, it is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

Severus cut her off before she could even get a single word out.

“Miss Granger, today, you will be preparing a rather easy potion which you have already learnt about during your early years at this school: the Cure for Boils. As I will be instructing the first-years in how to brew this particular potion tomorrow morning, I thought that it would be wise to have some ready-made phials of it on hand. After all, we both know how foolish and dim-witted some students can be.” He was, of course, referring to how Neville Longbottom once had made a cauldron melt while unsuccessfully trying his luck at this very concoction.

“Now, when you first learnt how to brew the Cure for Boils, you used a formula from Magical Drafts and Potions. This time around, however, you will be working according to the instructions found in the Book of Potions as that version does not consume as much time. As you can see, I have written the directions on the blackboard. You may take the required ingredients from the storage room and get started.”

As Miss Granger obediently and – by the grace of the gods – for once wordlessly got down to work, the Potions Master sat down behind his desk. He pulled up some essays to correct; however, he couldn’t concentrate on them no matter how hard he tried. He stared at the letters and words written in smudged ink for what felt like hours, but his mind couldn’t seem to form coherent sentences out of them. It appeared as though this was becoming some sort of pattern for him; he hadn’t been able to be productive for weeks. Whenever he would try to do some research or even just to read a book, his head would start to fill with images of a certain insufferable know-it-all.

Severus was hopelessly distraught. He was beyond disgusted with himself for acting like a teenage boy going through puberty all over again. It didn’t matter whether he was eating in the Great Hall, teaching in his classroom or walking through the castle’s ever-busy corridors – whenever there was a quiet moment, he couldn’t help his thoughts wandering to his apprentice. To combat this, he was trying to keep himself as busy as possible and had even began to lash out at the student body more than he usually already did. But his desperate attempts proved to be fruitless; once he would lie in bed at night, the darkness engulfing him, he couldn’t put a stop to his imagination anymore.

His mind would be plagued by mental pictures of the Gryffindor Princess, some real and some nothing but chimerical. Miss Granger in his private laboratory, bend over a cauldron, small beads of sweat running down her slender neck into her cleavage. Miss Granger in his sitting room, spread across the fluffy carpet in front of the fireplace, reading one of his beloved books while only scantily clad. Miss Granger straddling him on his bed, a cheeky smile on her face as she moves in to kiss him with those luscious lips of hers.

Worst of all, he couldn’t help his body’s reaction to these forbidden thoughts either, and that made him feel like a complete sicko.

Severus knew that he was doomed. Why oh why did this have to happen to him out of all people?! The Head of Slytherin – a former Death Eater and more often than not referred to as the greasy git of the dungeons – lusting after Gryffindor’s on-site smartass who was half his age; could it really get any worse? Had he honestly gotten so desperate for female touch that he had to resort to fantasising about a girl still wearing her school uniform?

He had only been in love once in his life and that had ended in tragedy. Except for some random encounters with witches he didn’t care for, he didn’t really have any experience when it came to the opposite sex. And so even if his silly, little crush weren’t so immorally wrong, it could never work out anyways. The Dungeon Bat wasn’t exactly what one would call a chick magnet. His nose was disproportionately large, his skin was almost sickeningly pallid, and his entire body was battered and scarred from the torture he had had to endure as a follower of the Dark Lord. A smart girl like Hermione Granger could never love an old wreck like him.

NO! Who was even talking about love?! Severus was simply getting turned on by her admittingly rather shapely form, that was all – he was a man, after all. Yes, while he had had many good-looking students walk into his Potions classroom over the years – with some of them even having being stupid enough to try to offer themselves to him in exchange for better grades – none of them had ever caused such a reaction before; but that was probably just due to the fact that the war was finally over now. With him not having to constantly fear for his life anymore, his body was seemingly starting to act “normal” again and that included his libido, too. With not many options available to him cooped up here in the middle of nowhere, it was no surprise that he would eventually stoop as low as to desire someone as annoying, overzealous and pesky as Granger. Mind you, she had indeed grown up to be a beautiful and attractive young woman. Him suddenly not getting irritated anymore by the constant flow of questions leaving her mouth and instead thinking about that very mouth in a perverted way meant absolutely nothing; he was simply horny.

At least that was what Severus was trying to tell himself.

To make matters worse, he had gone completely overboard with that stupid birthday gift. After having been forced to play along with this silly tradition, Snape’s mind had been completely blank on what to get his apprentice. Following a frantic one-hour search of his rooms, he had still not been able to find anything suitable for an 18-year-old girl.

“Well, she is a bookworm …” he’d thought after finally deciding on his volume of Long-forgotten Secrets of the Mayan Wizarding Culture – Potions, Spells and More. Severus had never been a huge fan of this book to begin with; while it was certainly a good read, he had always thought that it was completely overrated and therefore not worth hanging on to. Still, Miss Granger would probably get some enjoyment out of it somehow.

He had only realised his mistake once he had already sent off the owl. Even if he himself didn’t think much of the book, the witch would surely be bewildered as to why her teacher would gift her something so rare and valuable. There was no doubt in his mind that she would start to question his intentions sooner rather than later.

Severus let out a small grunt. He would have to find a way out of this misery. From here on out, he would try to further limit his contact with Miss Granger; continuing to outright ignore her during class and giving her tasks to complete elsewhere instead of holding their apprenticeship lessons. He could also do some research and look for a potion that would help suppress his bodily desires. Worst case scenario, he would simply have to pay a quick late-night visit to the sketchier part of Diagon Alley and find a willing Galleon-seeking witch to take his sexual frustration out on. Perhaps he could also have a talk with Albus and ask him to reassign Miss Granger to –

Suddenly, there was a loud blast coming from the other side of the room. Alarmed, Severus looked up from his papers, but all he could see was a half-destroyed cauldron and a lot of dark blue smoke – there was no sign of his young pupil.

His heart leapt into his throat. “HERMIONE!” he cried out before sprinting to the scene of the accident. With a quick flick of his wooden wand, he at once got rid of the chaos, and it was then that he discovered Miss Granger lying on the cold dungeon floor, covered in a mixture of unfinished teal-coloured potion and what he suspected to be blood. Her head of curls was a fuzzy mess and her face was completely drained of colour.

Severus immediately dropped to his knees and grabbed her by the arms to pull her onto his lap. Thankfully, the brunette was still breathing; however, the blow of the explosion seemed to have knocked her out.

He feverishly thought about what could have caused such a catastrophe; brewing Boil Cure was a simple task after all. With a brief glance at the blackboard, it finally dawned on him: He had forgotten to add a warning to only stir the potion very gently after adding the pickled Shrake spines; otherwise they tended to get “overexcited” and therefore become explosive. The Potions Master had obviously assumed that Miss Granger would have known this already, but it seemed as though even the knowledge of Hogwarts’ most brilliant student wasn’t all-encompassing.

Severus couldn’t help but to silently scold himself for this rookie mistake as he swiftly conjured up a cushioned stretcher on which he then carefully laid down his apprentice. After a quick visual assessment of her injuries, he was sure that the damage wasn’t too bad apart from some cuts and bruises. As a next step, he ripped open her singed and torn blouse, trying hard to ignore her now visible frilly bra. Using some basic cleaning spells, he made quick work of the sticky potion and blood mixture before focusing on the main problem.

“Vulnera Sanentur,” he whispered as he dragged his wand along the wounds on her chest and arms. He had invented this very spell during his own years as a student; and while it had originally been intended to mend severe injuries, it had become his go-to healing spell over time – because naturally, he had always had the most faith in his own creations.

A quick Repairing Charm later, Miss Granger’s tattered clothing was back to its original state. Severus then disappeared into his storage room just to come back out a few minutes later with a crystalline phial in one hand and a small jar of ointment in the other. He placed the latter on a table nearby before yet again kneeling down next to his patient. Supporting her head with his left hand, he poured a few drops of Wideye Potion down her throat; it had come from the very batch they had brewed together not even two weeks earlier. Sitting back on his heels, all he could do then was to wait for her to wake up.

Soon enough, Granger started to stir and eventually let out a muffled groan before opening her brown eyes, seemingly disorientated. It was only when she attempted to sit up that her teacher spoke up.

“You shouldn’t try to get back up quite yet … unless you enjoy feeling lightheaded, of course,” he said with an icy undertone as he stood up and moved back to his desk, sensing her questioning look following his every move. He sat down in his black leather chair and waited for her to speak.

“What happened?” she finally managed to ask, her voice still husky.

“It seems as though I have overestimated your brewing abilities greatly, Miss Granger, as you appear to have disregarded the required safety precautions concerning the use of Shrakes in potions, subsequently blowing yourself up. As a result, you have not only forced me to interrupt my work and come to your aid, but I will now also have to utilize my free time later this evening to prepare the required potion for tomorrow’s class. For this unbelievable foolishness, I shall deduct 15 points from Gryffindor.”

A tiny tear started to slip down her left cheek, but whether it was caused by the pain from her injuries or his cold words the wizard did not know. The incident hadn’t been completely her fault, of course; but Severus didn’t care. He told himself that she should have better than to make such a ludicrous mistake. Now that he knew that she would eventually make a full recovery, worry and shock was replaced with sheer anger – anger over his doom-laded error, anger over how distressed the sight of her unconscious and wounded body had made him, anger over how he was nothing but a slave to his primal needs and anger over how he had frantically called out her name just minutes earlier. He was practically seething.

“I will let you know that I expect better from someone who is not only this school’s Head Girl but also my personal apprentice. I expect a lot better … Now, I suggest you take this jar of dittany,” he commanded sternly, pointing to the small tin sitting on the desk to her right. “As I am sure you know it prevents scarring. Or maybe you don’t. Who could be sure after such a grave mishap?”

Apparently, he’d gone a step too far with his mocking, because the young woman’s crying promptly turned into uncontrollable sobs. Standing up abruptly, still a bit unstable on her legs, she bolted from the room, leaving the ointment as well as all of her other belongings behind. Snape grabbed the pieces of parchment covering his desk and flung them against the dungeon wall in blind rage. Damn Hermione Granger, damn those oversensitive Gryffindors, damn his own emotional turmoil!

Later that night, Severus was lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

“Hermione,” he whispered, letting the name roll off his tongue in a hushed voice.

For some reason, saying her given name out loud seemed a lot more intimate than any of the deviant, shameful fantasies he’d had about little Miss Granger.

Chapter 9: Girl Talk

(Click here for chapter 8!)

(Click here to start from the beginning!)

Disclaimer: I don’t own the “Harry Potter” book series. The story of “Harry Potter” is the property of J. K. Rowling, it is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

“Hermione, would you mind if Ron and I go now? Not to be rude, but we have Quidditch practice and … you know,” Harry said sheepishly.

Hermione couldn’t help but smile. For her birthday, Ginny and the boys had surprised her with a truly lovely evening. They had caught her after Transfiguration class and brought her to her private chambers which had been decorated using a seemingly completely random assortment of silly and rather tacky Muggle party supplies. As a result, the four of them were now sitting in her small bedroom amidst an explosion of colourful balloons, gigantic honeycomb balls made of flimsy tissue paper as well as lots and lots of cheap, glittering plastic streamers.  There was even a cheesy banner hanging on one of the walls that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY HERMIONE! XOXO in big, bold letters. How her friends had orchestrated all of this, she did not know. Even after some intense questioning on her part, they had refused to disclose how exactly they had managed to gain access to the password-protected Head Girl Tower without her knowledge; however, Hermione had the sneaking suspicion that a certain free elf may or may not have had something to do with it.

Naturally, the trio also hadn’t forgotten to shower her in gifts, all of which were now neatly stacked on her dresser, right next to all of the other presents she had already received earlier during the day: a beautiful bouquet of fragrant wildflowers from Neville, a rather peculiar-looking necklace and a handmade card from Luna, and a parcel filled with an abundance of merchandise from the newest Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes product range, courtesy of Fred and George. Needless to say, Hermione wasn’t planning on touching or especially using any of the joke items, but she still greatly appreciated the thought.

The newest additions to this small collection were a small, round bottle of fairly pricey perfume from Ginny, a fluffy scarf made of thick, mulberry-coloured wool with a matching beanie and half-mittens from Ron (though Hermione thought it likely that he hadn’t actually bought them but rather had them made by his warm-hearted mother) as well as an expensive quill set from her favourite stationary store in Diagon Alley and an interesting book about wizarding tattoos – which were permanently charmed upon application and therefore moved across sections of the body similar to the way magical photos or paintings did on canvas – from Harry. The Muggle-born had almost let out a little laugh when realising that it was the exact same volume that she herself had purchased from Tomes and Scrolls only a few months prior and that was now sitting on one of her shelves in this very room. Not that she would ever tell him – it was the gesture that counted, after all!

“No worries,” Hermione said. “Of course you can go! I know how important this last season is for the both of you.”

“And besides,” the youngest Weasley chimed in. “Hermione and I need some time to ourselves for a long overdue girl talk anyway! With all this school work and stressing out about Quidditch, we really haven’t had the chance to chat in like forever. I’m sure you won’t mind me missing out on one training session, right?” she asked, as if they hadn’t already hashed all of this out beforehand.

“Not at all,” Harry answered lovingly before moving in to give her a quick peck on the lips, with Ron demonstratively looking the other way. After having the weight of constant threats and fear for the lives of his loved ones lifted from his shoulders following the end of the war, it seemed as though the young wizard with the famous lightening scar was finally feeling comfortable enough to have a normal and out-in-the-open relationship with his redheaded sweetheart.

The two boys then hugged the birthday girl goodbye before making a swift exit. As soon as the door shut behind them, Ginny turned to Hermione with the biggest grin on her face; it almost made the freckles on her rosy cheeks look like they were dancing.

“We finally did it, Hermione!” she exclaimed excitedly.

Absentmindedly picking at the remaining crumbs of a cake that had once read Sweet Eighteen, the older girl frowned in confusion. “Who did what?” she asked.

“Harry and I! You know …” Her expression turned cheeky.

“Oh … OH!” The nature of the topic instantly made the witch feel awkward. “Um, well, that’s great for you, Gin!”

“Thank you! Oh Hermione, it was absolutely wonderful! We sneaked out late night on Saturday and met up in the Room of Requirements. I don’t know what Harry asked for exactly, but he definitely aced it! The whole room was decorated with rose petals and floating candles; and there was a huge canopy bed and even a fireplace! I can’t even begin to tell you how long I’d been waiting for this moment and it turned out just perfect! Harry was so gentle and …”

Hermione listened to her babble on with only half an ear. She was happy for her best friend, of course; but at the same time, she couldn’t help but feel a little sullen. With the majority of her teenage years having been spent cramming for exams while trying to keep Harry alive and out of trouble, she had never had the time for any romantic escapades. In her juvenile blindness, Gilderoy Lockhart had been her first heartthrob and she had even harboured a small crush on Sirius Black for a while. A quick snog with Viktor Krum underneath the Quidditch Pitch bleachers during the night of the Yule Ball, however, had been the most action she’d ever had. While most people – including Harry, Ginny and probably even Ron himself – still seemed to think that she and the Gryffindor Keeper would someday end up together, Hermione had ruled out that scenario a long time ago. She loved the boy dearly, but he would never be more than a good friend to her; they were just too different. She needed someone more mature – someone who put as much emphasise on intellect and academics as her. But did someone like that even exist in the first place?

“… And I’m just so happy right now! I really feel like our relationship has been taken to a whole new level.” Ginny paused for a second. “Anyway, enough of me. Now tell me what’s been going on in the life of Hogwarts’ smartest smartass.”

“Hey!” Hermione proclaimed exasperatedly, but she did have to giggle when she saw the redhead’s smug expression – her friends had all figured out a long time ago how to rile her up using foul language. “Well, not much really. I’ve just been studying, fulfilling my duties as Head Girl, doing my lessons with Professor Snape and –“

“Galloping gargoyles! I’d totally forgotten about you and that slimy bastard!” the younger girl shouted, ignoring her shocked and appalled look. “You know, I still can’t believe that you chose him as your tutor! I mean, I’m already having a hard time with how strict McGonagall is being with me, and she can’t be even half as bad as that minger. How are you holding up?”

“It’s really not that bad. I mean, yes, he does make me work hard, but I knew that going in. And quite frankly, a big workload is not the worst thing – I do want to improve my brewing skills, after all. Plus, I do think that all of you have a completely wrong impression of Professor Snape. It’s true that he’s quite stern and almost cold sometimes, but he was a true hero during the war; you know that as well as I do. And after allowing me to work in his private lab and giving me that amazing birthday gift, I really don’t believe that –“

“WHAT?” Ginny’s outcry was so intense that her hazel eyes bulged to an abnormal extent. “Private lab? Birthday gift?! What the hell? You haven’t even been working with that plonker for a month and you already seem to be talking about a completely different Snape than me!”

Hermione was more than a little irritated at being interrupted yet again, but she decided to let it slide. “Merlin’s beard, Ginny, calm down! Yes, we are both talking about the same Professor Snape; and yes, he still is the same snarky and spiteful wizard as always. More importantly, however, it wasn’t like he invited me into his laboratory voluntarily. The Hospital Wing was in desperate need of medicine, but the Potions classroom was occupied – so he didn’t really have a choice but to have us use his personal workspace to brew.”

“Hmm, I guess that makes sense. It’s still a bit weird, though.” There was a brief moment of silence. “Wait … Wouldn’t his private lab be inside his personal quarters?”

When she didn’t answer immediately, the ginger-haired adolescent started jumping up and down excitedly on the bed. “By Salazar’s balls, Hermione! I cannot believe you entered the Dungeon Bat’s private chambers and lived to tell the tale! How does it look down there? Is it true that he has every single mirror covered with a piece of cloth so that he doesn’t have to see his own ugliness, just like Charlie used to want me to believe? Oh, you have to tell me everything!”

She rolled her eyes. “Just stop it. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. I had to promise him not to tell a soul anyway. So don’t even try to squeeze any specifics out of me!”

“Oh, come on! You can’t lure me with such a scandalous story and then leave out all the juicy details! You will tell me, even if I have to force you!” And with those words, she dropped to her knees, grabbed one of the bed’s many pillows and started hitting her friend with it ruthlessly.

“OUCH! Hey, Ginny, stop it! AH!” Hermione tried dodging the cushioned weapon, but it was to no avail. “Okay, okay, stop bothering me already! You really are something, Ginevra Weasley – it’s quite mean of you to treat me in such a way on my birthday, you know!” she exclaimed before hastily fixing her now messed-up ponytail. “I will tell you, but not before you promise me not to tell anyone, not even Harry! Professor Snape would kill me if he found out that I dared to blab.”

The redhead was beaming following her victory. “Pinky promise!”

Hermione audibly sighed before proceeding. “Well, his rooms are definitely not what you would expect. I didn’t view them in their entirety, of course; but from what I could see, there wasn’t a speck of Slytherin colours anywhere. It didn’t feel like a dark and gloomy dungeon space either. His sitting room is filled with hundreds upon hundreds of books, some of which I have never even heard of, Gin! Oh, how I wish I could just go back and browse for a few hours! A few of the books seem to be centuries-old originals that were written by hand and –“ She stopped herself when she noticed the annoyed look on the other girl’s face. “Anyway, it’s actually quite cosy down there; he even has a fireplace. And yes, there was a mirror, without any cloth in sight. That’s about it, really. There were some doors leading to other rooms, but he understandably directed me into the laboratory rather quickly. I know that you’re not that into brewing, but let me tell you that even you would be amazed by that place. So much amazing machinery and such rare ingredients! Oh, I could go on forever!”

“Yeah, yeah, please spare me the details. I couldn’t care less about his silly collection –“ Ginny skilfully overlooked her friend’s glare. “The interesting part is that you’ve actually been inside his private chambers. That’s absolutely insane! Just wait until Harry and Ron find out, we’ll be able to play so many awesome pranks on that git! Next time you go –“

“No, Ginny! I told you, you cannot tell anybody!”

“But –“

“NO! No ifs, ands or buts – just stop! You promised me, remember? I don’t think I’ll ever have the chance to go back anyway. Besides, after receiving that terrific gift from him yesterday, I really ought to be thankful rather than play any mean tricks on him.”

To beat her to another overemotional outburst, Hermione quickly recounted Dumbledore’s surprise visit and explained the tradition of giving gifts to one’s apprentice to celebrate them becoming another year older.

“So McGonagall will give me a birthday gift, too?” Ginny asked eagerly. The Head Girl confirmed with a brief bob of her head. “Sweet! But what did the old bugger get you anyhow?”

Hermione furled her eyebrows in distaste before using the Summoning Charm on her new most prized possession and handing it to the girl.

“Huh? It just looks like some old book that’s about to fall apart,” Ginny said, clearly disappointed by the worn object laying on her lap.

“I know that it may not look like much, but it’s the exact opposite. This here,” Hermione lifted the book so that it was on eye-level. “– is one of the most infamous wizarding works ever created. It’s so rare that not even the Ministry possesses a copy of it. Gin, this book is priceless – it’s easily worth more than the net worth of all current and past Quidditch players in the entire world combined!”

Finally understanding the severity of the situation, Ginny gasped. “And Snape still gave it to you?! Why in Merlin’s name would he do something like that?”

“I honestly don’t know. Such a gift would already be considered excessive even if we were friends, so I don’t understand at all why he would give it to me despite his obvious hatred towards me.” She heaved a sigh. “I’ve been racking my brain all day trying to come up with a way to properly thank him, but I don’t think I would even know what to say. I mean, this is the most amazing thing that anyone’s ever done for me!”