Summary: My response to the WIKTT Inversion Challenge... Severus Snape is a Muggle-born Gryffindor Know-it-all, and Hermione Granger the sarky ex-Death Eater Slytherin Potions Master - WIP
Disclaimer: Any characters you recognise belong to JKR.
Notes: The idea of Severus in a Goth club came from post on the WIKTT mailing list. The club itself, or at least the atmosphere and floor, is very loosely based on a club called 'Stairways' in the Wirral, England. The song lyrics are from 'Vampire Erotica' by Inkubus Sukkubus.
The rating for this fic is currently PG-13 just to be on the safe side, but the rating may need changing later.
This is my first HG/SS fic, my first Challenge fic, my first fic longer than a single chapter, and my second ever fanfic... so reviews greatly appreciated.
"See! Told you that charm'd do the trick!" the short blonde called to her companions. She opened her mouth to say something else, but her words were lost in the wave of cigarette fumes, sweat and loud rock music that hit them as the door opened before them. The tall dark-haired young man beside her sighed. It was going to be a long night.
He didn't want to be here, he mused silently a short while later, staring broodingly into the glass of vodka and coke in his hand as she leaned against one of the many black-painted walls. Swirling the brown liquid around, he took another sip of the concoction and grimaced. The coke was flat, the vodka cheap-tasting and probably not to be found in most law-abiding establishments. Not like I can talk about law-abiding right now.
Sev had been surprised when his cousin had turned up at his bedroom door earlier that evening, a stubborn look on her face that he had come to know well over the summer spent with his aunt and her Wizard husband. It had been a bit of a shock, after his parents were killed in a final Death Eater raid on Hogsmeade at the end of a Hogwarts parent's evening at the beginning of the summer, to discover his mother's estranged sister was married to a Muggle-born Wizard... one who had, in face, been a former Hogwarts Head Boy.
Despite his protests that he would be happy to stay at Hogwarts with Harry, or that the Weasleys would be willing to have him to stay, Dumbledore had decided that, now the war was over and Voldemort finally dead, Severus would be better off away from the school... and the memory of his parents' deaths. Not that the memories stayed behind when they left... but maybe the Headmaster had a point. Not seeing their graves every time he looked out of the main doors was somewhat of a relief.
As his parents' only living relatives, Tempest and Richard Pryce had given Severus a place to stay over the summer holiday before his last year at school. It wasn't home, of course, but it was... something. His cousin Rowan - it appeared a taste for strange names ran in his mother's family, and for once he was glad to not feel alone with a Wizard-esque name in the Muggle world - had quickly become something approaching the older sister he'd never had; and, to be honest, had never really wanted.
It was, of course, his cousin's fault he was stuck here, in this... place... thing... he wasn't quite sure what to call it. His best friends would probably die laughing if they heard that the 'Know-It-All' Gryffindor Severus Snape, had been rendered speechless.
Rowan Pryce had never been one to take 'no' for an answer, and when her mother informed her that she either had to take Severus with her or stay at home, the young witch had immediately run upstairs to corner her relative. He'd refused, of course - the new school year started in less than two weeks, and Sev wanted to finish reading the Advanced Potions and Transfigurations texts he'd picked up at Diagon Alley the week before - but Rowan had refused to listen to his objections. She'd gone with him to the library and helped him with 'crazy potions experiments' all summer, supposedly out of the goodness of her heart, and now that her friends were back from a summer on the French Riviera she wanted to spend time with them. Which meant he had to spend time with them too.
And so, the 17-year-old student had found himself dragged out by his cousin and her friends. His protests about needing to study and being underage had fell on deaf ears; Rowan apparently knew all about his use of a Time Turner in his third year at Hogwarts... and somehow, she also knew that Severus had added over a year to his age in the process, making him 19 in January, not the 18 his passport claimed. A quick spell later and the 'problem' of his lack of ID had been solved. The bouncers, and anyone else who was likely to wonder about his age, would see a face they recognised as a regular, someone whose ID they had checked in previous weeks and knew to be valid. Another benefit of the spell would be that anyone who knew him wouldn't be able to recognise him unless he wanted them to. It was a very nice piece of magic, and while Sev's natural curiosity meant he wanted to know more about the charm Rowan had used on him, common sense - and a summer spent in her company - told him he'd probably be better off not knowing.
"Cheer up Sev!" a tenor voice bellowed in his ear, a strong hand striking him on the shoulder in what was supposed to be a reassuring gesture. All it managed to do was cause the teenager in question to lurch forward, spilling his drink across the floor. Not that anyone would have noticed with the amount of alcohol and dirt already covering the ancient linoleum. He wondered idly how long it had been since the floor was cleaned... his aunt Tempest had mentioned that she and Sev's mother, Savannah, used to come here. He assumed it was during some kind of short-lived misspent youth, because he couldn't imagine the staid Doctor Savannah Snape drinking liquid moonshine in a club and dancing wildly to rock music. Not that he wanted to imagine his mother and aunt doing such things... no, definitely not!
"D'you need to talk?" The tenor again, tone more serious and hand merely gripping rather than squeezing.
Sev sighed, raking one long-fingered hand through his shoulder-length black hair. Dave was a nice guy under the short spiky blue hair and multiple facial piercings... but he seemed to have a serious 'big brother' complex when it came to his girlfriend's orphaned cousin. And Sev didn't think he could deal with a 'talk', at full volume to be heard over the deafening music, about his parents' death a few months before. The pain, the sense of loss, was still too fresh. Never one to share his feelings, he was fine not talking about what had happened. If only he could get Dave to understand that.
Slowly dragging his eyes from his perusal of the floor, in a rather obvious attempt to delay any further conversation with Dave, Sev felt his jaw drop a little at the sight in front of him. As if by magic or an act of fate, the crowd around the dance floor had parted, giving him a clear view of the centre of the floor... and the woman dancing there.
Chestnut hair tumbled down her back in tangled waves past her waist, damp with sweat at the temples. Her eyes were closed, head thrown back, as she moved with the music, ignoring the press of bodies around her.
My heart burns for love
My soul burns for blood
I'll take you, I'll break you
I'll crush you, I'll break you
If you want me, I'll need you
I'll kill you, feed from you
I'll take you down that road
That leads to destruction
Slender arms were raised above her head as the song changed, becoming wilder. Curvy hips clad in a tiny black denim miniskirt swayed to the beat, drawing his gaze down a long expanse of fishnet-clad thigh to where the pale skin disappeared under knee-length leather boots.
I'll hurt you, you'll love me
I'll scratch you, I'll cut you
You'll kiss me, then miss me
I'll laugh at your torment
I'll have you, and own you
Be hard and cold to you
I'll be your dark angel
I'll be your worst nightmare
Ignoring Dave's concerned voice in his ear, Sev pulled his gaze back up along her body, lingering on the expanse of flat stomach bared by her low-slung skirt. Eyes roving higher, he admired the way the thin black fabric of her shirt clung lovingly to her ribs and chest. The low neckline bared a good portion of her upper chest and cleavage, outlining the swell of her breasts, pushed into further prominence by her raised arms.
Come and take a walk with me
Where the angels fear to tread
Kiss the flame, feel the pain
In the furnace of our love
Come along and talk with me
Sing the sweet song of despair
Give your body, give your soul
In the furnace of our love
He continued to watch her as the song drew to a close. She was... hot, sexy... very sexy a small inner voice chimed in. And he wasn't the only guy thinking that, judging by the number of males crowding around her, hovering at the edge of the dance space. But she also looked... familiar.
A small frown grew on his pale, thin-featured face as he tried to place her. Sev was almost positive he'd seen her somewhere before... he just couldn't quite think where.
Maybe that's the idea he thought suddenly. She was probably someone from school, a witch who, like him, had used some sort of magic to prevent herself from being recognised by a casual acquaintance.
Yes he decided a few minutes later, watching the woman dance again, the music winding down for a short break while the DJ changed over. He watched as the song finished and she moved over towards the bar, pulling a note from a pocket in her skirt and calling something to the bartender.
She was very sexy. She was... As if feeling his eyes on her, the woman turned her head, looking straight at him for a minute.
Holy shit!
Severus' jaw dropped in astonishment as hazel eyes fixed on him for a brief moment, no sign of recognition on her face.
She was... his Potions professor!
The brunette leaned against the bar, glancing idly around the room while waiting for her drink, hazel eyes inspecting those not hidden in shadow or behind other denizens of the loud, smoky club. There were a few familiar faces here and there... she was almost willing to wager that the red-haired girl in the corner had been in last year's Advanced Potions class, a Hufflepuff prefect... Thankfully, while she could recognise them, none of them would be able to identify her. Dealing with students in term-time was bad enough; Hermione Granger, Hogwarts' Potions Mistress and head of Slytherin House, had absolutely no wish to actively socialise with them outside school grounds. Or within school grounds, for that matter.
Which didn't precisely explain what the pureblood head of Slytherin and former Death Eater was doing in a Muggle nightclub, drinking alcohol that could double as paint-stripper whilst wearing far too much eyeliner.
Hazel eyes locked briefly with the deep black of someone on the other side of the room. She'd seen him from the corner of her eye, watching as she danced. It was amazing how easily males were influenced by the female body… a power she usually took full advantage of. A blue-haired punk with a vaguely familiar face broke the eye contact, waving his hand in front of his companion's face, causing the man to turn with an irritated frown.
Hermione smiled slightly to herself. This could be interesting.
TBC