Friday afternoon. Last class of the day. Double Potions. Seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Hermione Granger was tense. She'd made a bet with Malfoy, to get her hands on a mysterious book he had been going on about to the other Slytherins a few weeks ago. She'd overheard them talking and her curiosity had been peaked. The library had proved futile in her search for knowledge and as a last resort, she'd cornered Malfoy one day after class and had asked to loan the book. He'd laughed at her outright.
"You want the 'Slytherin book', Granger? You'll never get your filthy mudblood hands on that artefact!" he'd sneered and marched away. She'd followed him. "Come on, Malfoy. What's in there? Let's make a deal about it." He'd stopped at once, slowly turning around with his eyebrows raised.
"A deal, Granger? What kind of deal?" She'd been thinking hard and frantically to think of something innocent, but she didn't get any brilliant ideas. She had decided to take the risk. "You get to choose a dare for me, Malfoy," she'd glared at his gleeful smile, "within certain limits," that made him narrow his eyes at her, "if I do it, I'll get to loan your book for a week. If I don't, I'll pay you fifty Galleons."
Malfoy had looked at her with awe, but still with such contempt that it made him look ugly, "Nice, Granger. I'll think about it." "You don't know the limits yet, Malfoy! But I'll owl them to you tonight." She'd turned around and left, unable to stand his cockiness any longer.
They'd met again a few days later. Malfoy had constructed his dare to circumvent her limits. "You'll have to beg Professor Snape to let you answer one of his questions. On your knees. And make it a believable innuendo, Granger." She'd gulped at first. Merlin, Snape wasn't known for his good humour towards students in general and Gryffindors especially. But she'd bravely accepted. The drafted contract that she'd made in advance lay before her and she scribbled his dare below the rules. He'd looked at her suspiciously, remembering what had happened to Marietta Edgecomb, but signed it anyway. "Can I hex it," he'd asked, "in case you'd forget to pay me fifty Galleons?" She'd let him go to the trouble. It wasn't as if she was going to lose anyway. Besides, she'd hexed the thing herself as well. Never trust a Malfoy.
But now, she wasn't so sure about winning anymore. The date had been decided, it had to happen today. Malfoy had been smirking at her since the beginning of class and it irked her to no end. The little ferret was so full of himself. That thought alone gave her enough reason to go through with things. And she didn't have fifty Galleons, so she'd better do it anyway.
Harry and Ron were muttering behind her, trying to talk her out of it. Saying things like 'not with Snape, Mione' and 'why provoke him even more?', but she wasn't going to listen to them. She just had to do this, she had to know what was so special about that book. Quietly taking notes, Hermione kept glancing to Professor Snape to gauge his position in the room and whether he was going to ask a question soon. That would set everything in motion. And then he did.
"Who can name me the properties of grinded moonstone?" Professor Snape's smooth voice carried through the dungeon class room in spite of it's quietness. Hermione's hand shot in the air as usual. She knew what his reaction to that would be, it was always the same. He smirked at her shortly, before sweeping his gaze across the rest of the class.
"Nobody?" he didn't sound very disappointed, far from it actually. This was the exact moment Hermione had been waiting for. A question from him, not letting her answer and he was only a few feet away. It was now or never. She stood up and ran to the professor, hugging him in front of the class.
"I know the answer, Professor Snape, please let me answer!" she clung to him, noticing first his surprise, then his rising anger. She had to continue now, before he would push her away. She started sinking down on her knees, still clutching him. "I want to answer, Professor, I know the answer!" She had her hands on the small of his back, not letting him step back yet. She was looking up at him with innocent eyes, almost bursting out laughing at his look of outrage. She then made her first mistake. She looked ahead, which was straight below his waist. It changed her whole perspective. She was no longer the courageous Gryffindor, proving her worth to a Slytherin in a bet. She was a woman in front of a man. She licked her lips unconsciously. "I want to, Professor, I really do!" her last words, barely a whisper. Images appeared in her head at once, each one less innocent than the previous. She just couldn't help noticing how uncomfortable he really was. And she made another mistake.
The realization that she was thinking rather naughty thoughts at that exact moment made her look up to see his face. He had been angry when she had clutched to him, she'd noticed the signs. His mouth had been thin, his eyes narrowed and his hands balled to fists at his sides. But the moment her eyes locked with his, his mouth fell open, his eyes got wide and wild and his hands started trembling. He stumbled backwards to the nearest table, gripping it so hard his knuckles turned white and he looked at her with such a jumble of emotions that she knew at once. He had seen her thoughts. She was shocked with the sudden turn of events. He'd been excited, she'd noticed, she'd gotten excited and now he knew! Oh, no, Hermione! What have you done! Reality hit her like a brick on the head. She'd insinuated something awfully sexual in front of the whole class. And oh, had it affected him! She was the Head Girl! But even that thought didn't stop the flashing images from appearing before her eyes, still nowhere near 'good and proper'.
Professor Snape tried to regain his composure, but it seemed to take incredibly long. His eyes weren't their normal empty black colour. They seemed to her a swirling pool of emotions: confusion, shock, anger, arousal… Merlin, Hermione, stop looking at him! "Get up, Miss Granger," he said at last, in a voice that was so unlike his usual smooth tones that she stood up quicker than she thought she could.
"One hundred points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger," he spoke, slowly going back to the dangerous velvet voice that didn't show any emotion but anger. "And a month's worth of detentions in the infirmary."
"Now get out!" Hermione jumped at his suddenly hard command. But he had been talking to everyone then. "Class dismissed! Get out, I said!" he spat, obviously irritated with the seventh years' lack of movement. When his voice rose at the end of the sentence, however, everyone scrambled to gather their things and leave the dungeons. Hermione trailed along, shaking her head to get rid of the sudden daze in her mind.
She partly regained her composure when she caught a glimpse of blond in the hallway. "Malfoy," she called out with determination, "you owe me something." She tapped her foot impatiently while he turned around. She wanted to get that book and get out of the dungeons as fast as possible.
Draco Malfoy turned around and smirked at Hermione. "Marvellous show, Granger," he sneered, "but you didn't really think I'd give away our precious secret, now did you?"
"Really, Malfoy? I think I foresaw that little problem coming up, actually," she grinned evilly at him, "you do remember the contract you signed, don't you?"
"You didn't really think I'd go along with that, Granger!" he laughed. "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that, Malfoy. You see, I had thought you'd try to ferret your way out of it beforehand, so I took some precautions."
He looked at her suspiciously then, and perhaps with a trace of fear. It was her turn to smirk now, "You wouldn't want to send an owl to your father telling him that his son has suddenly become unable to continue his precious pureblood line? Daddy wouldn't like that one bit, if you ask me. Now would he, Malfoy?"
Ron was grinning outright behind her now. Harry looked pleased. She grinned smugly, walked past him, Accio'd the book in question and grabbed it from the air with a wink at Pansy Parkinson.
"Read up on the Rainbow Balls Hex, Malfoy!" she shot at him, while walking back to Gryffindor tower.
Hermione sat in her room before dinner. Harry and Ron had been asking her about the book non-stop since she had gotten it and she wasn't willing yet to divulge anything. She had escaped to her Head Girl rooms in the tower and was now sitting on her bed, looking at 'The Secret Ways of Slytherins – A Guide For The Serpent's Children'.
She didn't feel like reading it now, though. Questions that should never even have surfaced were occupying her thoughts now. She had felt a bit better after threatening Malfoy. At least it had gotten Harry and Ron off her back; they had temporarily forgotten about the act with Snape to keep on talking about the payoff with Malfoy. But the good feeling of that encounter was fading fast with every new question that popped up to haunt her. Would she ever be able to look at him again? If she would, it probably would never be the same way as she had looked at him before. Professor Snape, feared Potions Master, rumoured vampire – laughable, that – and greasy git, bat and bastard of the dungeons. And she, Hermione Granger, Hogwarts Head Girl…
A knock brought her out of her musings. Professor McGonagall stood outside the painting of Marian the Maiden, the entrance to her rooms, regarding her strangely. "Come with me, Miss Granger," was all she said. Hermione should have thought it wouldn't end with just a 'class dismissed' and four weeks of detention. She was the Head Girl after all and as she meekly followed her Head of House, she started panicking about possible so-far-unthought-of repercussions. She was lead to Professor McGonagall's office and asked to take a seat. Instead of sitting at the other side of the desk however, the professor came and sat next to her, looking a bit concerned for her top student.
"Are you alright, Miss Granger? Would you like a cup of tea?" She nodded, tea would be nice, preferably with a lot of sugar for this occasion. She looked at the professor, who smiled at her kindly. It made Hermione feel a bit better again.
"I've heard you've had an eventful afternoon, dear," her Head of House started carefully, "As your Head of House, I need an account of what happened in your Potions class." It sounded very well-meant, but Hermione heard different things in it. Professor McGonagall was concerned and thought she needed to get things off her chest. And she was curious as hell. Hermione had always been inclined to go to her Head of House when she had problems. Lavender and Parvati just didn't live on the same planet as her, in a way. Ginny was very nice, but sometimes a year could make a lot of difference. At the beginning of her sixth year, when she had sat with her professor to pour out her heart about Harry's grief, and her own, Professor McGonagall had suggested Hermione call her Minerva in private. The familiarity was nice, so she made no point of hiding her observations.
"You just think I need to talk about it and you're absolutely curious as well."
Professor McGonagall laughed. "Either option is an invitation for you to tell me all about it", she replied with twinkling eyes. When she dropped her stern exterior, she was a very nice woman to talk to, Hermione had found out. "Well, it's a long story, Minerva," she started. And then she told her everything about the bet up until that moment in class just a few hours ago, where she had decided to actually do it. Minerva's face varied from outrageous when Hermione had told Draco Malfoy to invent a dare, to relieved when she told her there were limits on it, to proud when Hermione admitted hexing the contract in case Malfoy wouldn't follow it. When Hermione told her about that book being worth the detentions and removal of House Points she'd surely get, Minerva looked outrageous again, so she quickly changed the topic to the afternoon class. That was the difficult part.
"At first it all went fine. I stood up like I was supposed to and ran to clutch at Professor Snape and beg him to let me answer. He was angry alright, but I had expected that. So I continued my act, dropping on my knees to beg again…"
Hermione trailed off uncertainly. Was she really going to tell all of this to her Head of House? But Minerva made the decision for her.
"Good gracious, child, don't keep me in such suspense!"
"Everything changed at that moment, Minerva," Hermione buried her head in her hands and groaned, "It was a complete paradigm shift. One second, I was just a student, performing an act in front of a teacher. The next," Hermione hesitated every few words. How was she supposed to say all this and not get expelled! She wasn't even thinking of the embarrassment of confessing this to her professor.
"The next second, I was a woman in front of a man. No more, no less. My head flooded with," she grimaced, "rather inappropriate images."
Minerva looked at her in shock. Hermione put her head back in her hands. "I made the mistake of looking at him right that moment. He saw, Minerva!" she all-but-sobbed, suddenly breaking under the impact of that fateful afternoon moment, that had only just caught up with her. "He saw exactly what I was thinking! And I couldn't help," Hermione looked at her Head of House in despair, "I couldn't help but realize that I meant every word I had just said." Minerva looked frightened to ask just what exactly Hermione had said, but she did anyway. When Hermione answered, it was no more than a wisp of wind, but Minerva had heard it nevertheless. "I want to, Professor, I really do!"
"Oh, dear," the woman mumbled.
Hermione was getting hysteric now, "Oh dear exactly!" she started, suddenly spilling too many things to her confidant, "I'm attracted to my professor. And I wasn't going to do that again, I promised myself! Not anymore, not after Lockhart! And here I am, throwing myself at the feet of the exact opposite of that smiling blond fraud. And only realizing afterwards that I did mean every word I said and oh, he knows!"
"Have a bit of tea, dear," Minerva handed her the flower-patterned cup. She was unsure how to handle the girl when she was so close to full out hysteria. Best to calm her down a bit first. Hermione felt hopeless and desperate. She wasn't done speaking yet. "His eyes, Minerva, he was angry of course, but also surprised, shocked more likely, confused, aroused and dare I think I saw hope?" Hermione took a deep breath and sipped some tea, at once feeling the warmth of the liquid running down her throat. "What happened next?"
The combination of tea and a safer topic seemed to stabilize the Head Girl. "Oh, he took one hundred points from Gryffindor, gave me a month of detention with Madam Pomfrey and dismissed the class," Hermione grinned in anticipation of the next part. "I got to remind Draco Malfoy of his contract with me and as I said, he wasn't willing to stick to it, so I also got to inform him about that particularly nasty Rainbow Balls Hex I put on the contract. And I took that 'Slytherin book'." Hermione seemed to have regained some equilibrium. She sighed and looked at her professor then.
"You know, I never would have thought this would happen. And now it did and I've suddenly realized it's been there for a long time. It's not all bad, you know. I felt very powerful for a moment this afternoon. Powerful in a feminine way. But," she stopped talking then, looking sadly at a point in the distance, "it's not possible, is it? Assuming of course, that he'd have a positive opinion about me. Unlikely, but still, after what I saw..." She fumbled with the ear of her cup, chancing a glance at her Head of House. "Yet if he did, it still wouldn't be possible…"
It was with those heartfelt words, that Minerva realized that there was more than attraction present with Hermione. She felt sad just looking at the girl, sitting there and knowing that what she wanted most, or at least that was Minerva's guess, was unattainable to her. She tried to provide some comfort.
"Hermione, dear, it's no good pondering over that sort of things. You're still young… Yes, I know, not a child anymore, but still young. I'm not saying that everything will turn out just fine, but only time can tell. And time, Hermione, is what you'll have to give this matter."
Hermione looked doubtful, but nodded anyway. She wondered what would happen when she saw him next.
"Now, why don't you go and sit with Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley for a while – it'll do you good, you know – while I go and have a talk with Madam Pomfrey to ensure that not all of your time is wasted scrubbing bedpans."
Hermione's face lit up. "Really, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall scolded, back to formal address all of a sudden, "you deserve a month of detention, but I can't bear to let you scrub bedpans every evening, if you could spend half of that time learning Basic Mediwizardry." Hermione still looked relieved and already a bit of her anxiousness to learn came crawling up through her spine. "You never know what it might be good for," Minerva finished with a sigh. That had Hermione looking rather solemn at once. You never know, indeed. She downed the last of her tea, thanked Professor McGonagall for the talk and bid her goodnight.
"We have to talk, Severus," Minerva whispered to her colleague at the end of dinner. Severus Snape was currently very ill-tempered and was looking at the Gryffindor table with a sneer, not even daring to think about the afternoon that had ended so abruptly. He still reeled from shock when he thought back to the thoughts on the forefront of Miss Granger's mind when she had looked at him. Dear Merlin, don't think of that, you fool! "We most certainly do not have to talk, Minerva," he replied the woman next to him icily. Miss Granger had just looked over to the staff table and he abruptly turned his head back to his food. He hadn't eaten much and he didn't feel like talking either. He wanted to be left alone. He stood up and with a swish of his robes, shortly nodding at the Headmaster, left the Great Hall before Minerva could either question or lecture him. Five minutes after he had arrived at his quarters though, she was already knocking at the door. He contemplated not letting her in, but decided against it. The woman was already irritable, better to just get rid of her quickly than to let her ire brew.
"Come in, Minerva, if you can't stop bothering me, then make yourself at home in the process." She glared at him at once. He smirked back, he was not in a play-nice-mood at all. He had poured himself a glass of Firewhisky and was seated in his favourite leather armchair, staring in the fire.
"Severus, about Miss Granger…"
"If you've come to discuss her, then you can just as well leave. I'm not about to indulge your questioning or lecturing."
"Really, Severus," Minerva pressed on without letting him get to her, "I think you should know that Miss Granger harbours more than a mere physical attraction for you and that you'd do well to not put her through your torturous process of repelling school girl crushes."
He snorted. That had been exactly what he had planned to do. No silly little teenager was going to walk around this castle thinking those thoughts about him. He was surprised at Minerva's words though, although he didn't show, but 'more than a mere physical attraction'?
"She is a sensible young woman, Severus. I think it would be better if you talked to her instead of trying to scare her away. You've never given her enough credit for her intelligence."
He snorted again, he'd already heard enough. "Fine, woman, you've had your say, now leave."
Minerva sighed. Professor Snape looked at her and was surprised to see her so sad. This time his surprise did show, for she said, "I'm sorry, Severus. I wish there was a chance for you." He looked at her queerly, but she had already turned around and closed the door behind her. A chance for him? She actually wanted… He rubbed his eyes in defeat. Were all women going mad around him today?
He had looked forward to that last class. Well, to having that last class over with actually. He had planned a lecture and an early dismissal to have the evening free for some research. He'd been unaware of any strange goings-on up until the moment he had asked a question. Malfoy had looked absolutely gleeful when he did. That had been a sign for caution. Be he hadn't expected for the attack to come from Miss Granger. He'd sneered at her, as he did every single time she stuck up her hand, stupidly waving it in front of him, while he wouldn't let her answer the question just for the sake of annoying her. And suddenly she was clutching him, begging him to let her answer. The class had been looking on in shock at her daring and he had at once been irritated by having been put on display like a fool by the Gryffindor twit. He'd tried to push her away then, but she'd already been sinking down on her knees, her head just a few inches from his crotch, looking at him like she was a saint. That damn girl. Malfoy had gotten very pale the moment she had stopped looking up and had looked ahead. He'd seen that from the corner of his eye, but his gaze had been fixed on the girl. Her tongue had come out to wet her lips, and then she had looked up. Her eyes, honey brown they were, had locked with his and in a flash, he had seen what she was thinking. Uncontrolled Legilimency rarely happened to him anymore. But it had at that moment, and he wished it hadn't. The things Miss Granger was thinking of had made his heart leap to his throat and another part of his anatomy strain for freedom. It had been ages since he'd been the object of female lust. He'd forgotten what it felt like, and the emotions that came with the Gryffindor's visions had crumbled his carefully built equilibrium, already unbalanced after her hands had slid down his backside and her body down his front. He'd been barely able to stand.
The Potions Master shifted his gaze from the fire to the tumbler in his hand. He downed it in one gulp, then threw the glass in the fire. Damn that girl. Damn Minerva for meddling. Damn himself for even thinking about her.
"Miss Granger, stay after class, please." The bell had just rung, signalling the end of Monday morning classes. Hermione waved Harry and Ron away, knowing they'd only irritate the Potions Master if they lingered. She'd be fine. She had entered the class in trepidation, but he'd been no different than before. It had relieved her, she wouldn't have been able to bear it if he had decided to completely ignore her or the opposite, start a personal vendetta against her in class. But she did have to stay behind. Professor Snape warded the doors once everyone was outside and gestured for her to sit.
"Miss Granger, Professor McGonagall found it necessary to discuss the events of Friday afternoon with me." Hermione knew she was paling at those words, what had Professor McGonagall said?
"Don't panic, girl," he snapped, "She only warned me not to scare you away from me with my school girl repelling process, which she finds torturous." He said 'school girl' with such venom that she had to smile. "Although I didn't see any reason why not to do exactly that to you. Perhaps you can give me one, Miss Granger?"
Hermione looked at him then. She should give him a reason to not scare her away from him? Merlin, she was going to babble away again if she didn't pay attention.
"Well, I'm sorry, sir," she started. Snape looked a tad smug at that, until she continued. "I'm sorry, but it wouldn't work. I can't help feeling," she waved her hand generally in between them, "this, now can I?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly thinking the exact opposite.
It irked her. She shouldn't give in to that, but she did anyway. And suddenly she spilled it all, rather brokenly, to him. "I didn't realize it until afterwards, you know. I just admired you for your intelligence and your wit. And Malfoy with his 'innuendo-act', I never thought it would turn out to be such a big change. And I didn't mean to, well, make you feel uncomfortable," she looked down with a flush on her cheeks. She had felt exactly how uncomfortable he had been, when she had slid along his body to fall on her knees.
She looked at him, sad and forlorn. "But it doesn't matter, does it?" she whispered, "there are so many complications…" She fidgeted with the hem of her robe. "I didn't even consider your… opinion of me," whether you like me or not, she thought, "It wouldn't change the fact that you're a difficult man, with extracurricular priorities and I'm still a student…"
She stood up then and grabbed her bag in quiet resignation. "Miss Granger," she heard. He stood right behind her. She turned around to face him and he seemed unable to decide whether or not to say something to her, she didn't know what. He was standing awfully close. If she slung her bag over her shoulder, she would be closer still. Professor Snape was looking at her strangely, his arms crossed in front of his chest as usual, as if defying the very notion of confiding in her whatever it was he had been about to say. It seemed like she'd never be this close to him again, to never get a chance like this. So she took it. She stood on tiptoes and kissed him. Soft, short, barely touching his lips. It tingled her to the core. And with a tear trailing down her cheek, she left his class.