Making Waves

The staff and students had noticed a change in their usually dour, morose, and irritable Potions Master. Things had changed gradually over the months but each change, though slight, was enough out of character that it was hard not to notice.

At first it was his eyes. Only the staff noticed it. His eyes seemed less harsh, less cold. They carried a certain warmth in them. No one had any idea how or why the change had come about but it made Severus a bit less intimidating.

Then it was his walk. Everyone in the castle, students, staff, ghosts, and paintings alike knew the familiar tread of the Potions Master's walk. That heavy dull thud of his boots coming around the corner in the dark of night was most feared by those students who had snuck out of their dorms after curfew. But one day the usual pattern of his footsteps changed. His steps were slower, quieter, more relaxed. He didn't stomp into his classroom, striking fear in the hearts of his morning Potions class. Now he seemed to just wander everywhere. As if whether he showed up or not didn't really matter.

And then, over the Christmas holidays, Minerva McGonagall almost had a heart attack. She stared with mouth open and eyes wide as he walked past her in the corridors dressed in green. Green! A dark green turtleneck sweater to be specific. Minerva had known Severus since he was 11 and she had never seen him in anything other than black, unless it was coupled with a green Slytherin tie. Minerva blinked hard and wondered if she had consumed too much of Pomona's Christmas eggnog.

But the one change that everyone noticed and that no one, absolutely no one could blame the vision on eggnog, the stress of finals, or the fatigue of an entire night awake studying or making out, was…well, it was… it was so shocking that both Jennifer Wakely and Ralph Bowers fainted dead away during Double Potions with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.

We might have to go back a little.

It all began when Miss Granger returned to school, older, wiser, more mellowed, and definitely more curvaceous.

Severus Snape had made it a point not to notice women after the debacle that was his relationship with Lily Evans. He was too busy, too important, to find his mind clouded with visions of women or thoughts of dating. And then when the war was over and all was once again as it should be, Severus Snape feared he may have lost his knack. Not that he had ever had one to begin with but when she showed up as the newest Muggle Studies professor, Severus dearly wished he had a knack. Any kind. Even a spark of one that perhaps could be worked on with some research and dedicated study.

And then one day, without him even having done anything, she had turned one of her smiles on him and they became friends.

Severus dared not hope it could ever become more than that. But Hermione, as she insisted he call her, seemed hell-bent on having him as her own. Severus really couldn't find any fault in that.

It seemed he didn't really need a knack after all.

And that was when the subtle yet jarring changes began in Severus Snape. No one knew where they had sprung from but Hermione knew. And Hermione liked the way Severus was behaving. She liked that he took life a little less seriously now, that he seemed to have gained some semblance of happiness.

One night in March, dressed in their dragon hide boots and gloves, they set out together towards the Black Lake where they would pick ingredients from the only spot around that hosted them, the small island in the center of the lake.

A small wooden boat was awaiting them as they approached the water's edge.

Hermione felt Severus stiffen beside her. She turned towards him, a quizzical gleam in her large, honey brown eyes.

"Severus? Is something wrong?"

Severus shook his head, not trusting his voice to speak. He had never told her this. In fact, he had never told anyone this. Severus lived by the rule that you never gave your enemies ammunition to use against you. But in Hermione's case, he didn't want to show her wasn't the strong, able man she thought him.

Why could he have not thought up a plausible excuse to send her out on her own for the ingredients? Or even made up some reason why she could not accompany him and he could have suffered in silence?

"Severus?"

Her voice brought him back; he had been staring out at the dark water, his face an expression of consternation. Severus cleared his throat. "It would seem that this boat is not large enough for us both. You go on and I'll wait here for you." He tried to sound as masculine as he could but he feared there was a note of panic in his voice.

Hermione laid a hand gently on Severus' arm. "Severus," she spoke in her no nonsense tone, "you know perfectly well that boat will accommodate us both. You are surely not afraid of anything, are you?"

Severus shook his head. "Of course not. What a ridiculous notion." But he continued to stare out at the large expanse of water, dread and panic rising up within him.

"Severus, I am not going alone. I can't possibly get enough in the hour that we have without help. Once midnight comes, the bulbs will no longer be useful. Come on." She tugged his arm towards the boat but Severus planted his feet upon the ground.

"I cannot Hermione. You must go alone. I can handle having less ingredients. It will not really matter."

Hermione turned to face him. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on, Severus." She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down.

Severus sighed and walked back a little from the bank. "Very well."

And so Severus embarked upon his tale.

It was during his first year at Hogwarts when the 'Marauders' thought it would be good fun to throw Severus in the lake. It would have been merely embarrassing for any other student but for Severus, who had never had parents who bothered to take him to the seaside or the Lake District and teach him how to swim, it was nothing short of full blown panic. Fear had bubbled up inside him. He had no idea which way was up, how to breathe, how to swim, how to get out of there. And to top it off, numerous creatures had sensed his fear and came towards the surface to give him grief. He had been saved just before he ran out of oxygen when the Giant Squid wrapped a tentacle around his small body and lifted him, gasping and crying, out of the water and placed him upon the bank. Since then he hated, absolutely hated, the water whether it was being submerged, wading in the shallows, or crossing it in a boat.

Severus had not looked at Hermione during his speech, fearing that she would laugh at him like all those students who had gathered to snicker at him when he was younger. But when he finished his story and finally dared to look up, she was standing there with a frown on her face.

"Bastards." She whispered vehemently. Then she sighed and uncrossed her arms. "You stay here. I'll go." And without saying another word, she turned and got into the boat. It immediately began skimming across the water.

Severus watched her go, feeling his panic slowly subsiding.

Once they had returned to his quarters and downed some firewhiskey to warm their bones, Hermione asked him the question that had been bugging her for some time now.

"Severus…" Her voice was quiet and a little timid.

"Yes Hermione?" Severus was still feeling immensely grateful that she hadn't laughed at him or thought him a coward. He was looking on her with more warmth and affection that he had before.

"Is that… I mean…your fear of water… is that why…well..."

"Hermione, out with it."

"Is-that-why-your-hair-is-always-greasy?" She quickly uttered, her cheeks growing red.

Severus found himself chuckling despite himself. "Well, yes. While I do have showers, I try not to immerse myself under the water. It does make it somewhat awkward to wash my hair." Severus admitted.

"Ah. I see." Hermione tilted her head and studied him for a moment. Then she rolled up her sleeves and grabbed Severus' arm. "Come on."

One very relaxing bath later, Severus was smiling to himself. Hermione lay asleep next to him while he stared up at the ceiling. The feeling of her hands through his hair had been exquisite. She had run him a warm bath than sat behind him and washed his hair. He had no idea it would feel so glorious, relaxing, and yet arousing all at the same time. Afterwards, with hair that was silky smooth for the first time since Severus could remember, he had tumbled her to the bed and repaid her for her efforts.

From that day forward, no one ever accused the Potions Master of having lank, greasy hair. Miss Wakely and Mr. Bowers eventually recovered though they both asserted that they didn't think they could handle any more sudden changes in their slightly less dour Potions Master.

I wrote this as a Christmas gift for drakien based on her prompt that Severus has a fear of water. She also wrote me a fic- the difference being that hers took 7 months to write while this took me 40 minutes. He he. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone!