Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his wondrful world belong to J. K. Rowling. No money is made on this story, it´s all just for fun.
This story is readable thanks to my beta How Tempting.
He´s Funny That Way
Capter 1
Severus Snape gritted his teeth and scowled at his former colleague. "You cannot mean that you want me to babysit a Muggle," he said with disgust.
"It would be the perfect solution, Severus," said Minerva McGonagall with a amused twinkle in her eye worthy of the late Albus Dumbledore.
It must come with the position, Severus thought to himself.
"You can´t return to Hogwarts as a teacher, and as long as the aurors and the Death Eaters are searching for you, you need to lay low. Grimauld Place is the best hideout for you right now."
"Perhaps, but that does not mean I am willing to waste my time tutoring some imbecile Muggle!"
"Technically, she is a witch, you know," said Minerva patient. "She needs to learn how to control her magic or accidents will occur. You know that as well as I."
"Then take her to Hogwarts," Severus spat.
"Unfortunately I can´t do that. She is to old, and considering the circumstances..." Minervas voice trailed off. Realising he fought a loosing battle Severus simply glared darkly at her."She is a really nice girl, I'm sure you will enjoy her company," Minerva smiled fully knowing she was winning. Severus gave that comment the only answer it deserved – a scornful sniff.
SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS
Severus looked at the woman on the other side of the table in utmost disgust. She was in her late twenties, medium height with a buxom body. Her dark brown hair was fine and straight, hanging below her shoulders. Her skin was fair, the eyes dark brown and the nose dusted whit freckles. During other circumstances he would have found her attractive, but right now he was in no mood to find any redeeming quality in her at all. With a sneer he crossed his arms
."I have been given the task to teach you the basics of magic, Miss Hill," he drawled. "Small talk or socializing will not be tolerated."
"Fine!" She glared back at him. Still sneering he arched a brow. "Fine, sir!" she spat, slamming her fork on the table.
The man was unbearable! When Professor McGonagall told her that a former professor agreed to teach her she had been really excited. Being a teacher herself, she rather missed her colleagues, and since she had always liked the professional discussions, she had looked forward to discuss the pedagogical and methodical differences between the teaching of magical subjects and of Muggle. Unfortunately, she got Severus Snape.
They were the only two living in the headquarters, and since Voldemort's recent death, the Order rarely visited. She was stuck with Snape, and to be frank, he was not much of a company. He refused to talk to her at all except during lessons. And even then he only said as little as possible, unless she failed her task of course.
Then he could be quite eloquent describing her lack of skill and mental capacity.
She sighed and frowned as she contemplated her situation. Sometimes she just wanted to scream that it was just an accident, not a personal insult towards him. It really wasn't her fault. After all, she had only been at the wrong place at the wrong time. It was hardly a crime. Not that that fact stopped Mr. High and Mighty Snape from being a complete bastard.
Her memory of the accident was a bit foggy, but they had explained what happened. Not that she really grasped it though. As far as she understood it was a curse gone wrong, during what Professor McGonagall referred to as "the final battle" He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named misfired a curse that hit not only herself, but another woman as well. The other woman – what was her name again...? Beatrice? No, Bellatrix. She had died instantly, and somehow her magical powers had been transferred.
Knitting her brows she tried to grasp the complications of sudden witchhood at the age of twenty-eight. Sighing again she glanced at the man on the other side of the table. He had finished his lunch and was reading a newspaper. She sighed again at the thought of her next lesson with His Snarkiness.
"Having difficulties with your breathing, Miss Hill?" He asked dryly.
She was really tempted to bite back with a "Yes, the air in here is so heavy with your sarcasm." However, she somehow managed to behave herself and simply mumble " No, sir."
"Good! Then clean the table and do the dishes. With magic, please. See it as a part of your education."Severus said, his voice silky and scornful.
Sighing – inwardly this time - she looked at the table with annoyance. Would it kill him to give her some instruction? Something little more helpful than "do this – now" would have been highly appreciated. Trying to remember how he used to do it, she picked up her wand. Hesitating she lifted it, took a deep breath, flicked it and said – she prayed – the proper incantation.
"Evértere".
With a cracking sound the table raised up on two legs heaving plates, cutlery, and leavings in Snape´s lap.
Elisabeth Hill gulped and paled, cursing inwards as Severus Snape towered over her, with an expression of fury and disdain. "Oh, bloody hell!" She thought. "Here we go again."
SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS
Severus Snape was sitting in an armchair staring at the dying fire. On a table beside him stood a nearly empty bottle of whisky. He sighed deeply and filled his empty glass with the remaining whisky and stared at it a long time before he announced to the the empty room, "Bloody woman!" He downed the liquor and continued. "I swear she's a female Longbottom." He winced reminded of on of the many times Neville Longbottom managed to melt his cauldron. The faulty potion put the stone floor on fire and the fumes nearly killed the whole class. He shook his head to push away the offensive memory and mumbled, "She is a walking disaster just waiting to happen." Putting down the glass on the table he decided it was time to go to bed. He felt a little unsteady. "Maybe I should have skipped the last one." he thought.
Carefully he walked out of the study and through the corridor to his room.
Steadying himself with one hand against the wall he waved his wand to open the door. Nothing happened. He tried again. Same result. Knitting his brows he tried another one and suddenly the door clicked open.
Freezing in the doorway he stared at the bed. On top of it laid the bloody Muggle – naked! He watched her touch herself and felt the blood rush to his crouch. Not stopping to ask what she was doing in his room, he stepped inside and moved towards the bed. The sudden movement got her attention and she stared at him, wide-eyed.
His common sense tried to tell him that even though she was adult, she was still his student, and that he really didn't like her.
Too aroused to listen and too drunk to care, he caressed her thigh and whispered, "You want a hand with that?"
SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS
She couldn´t believe what was happening. Did he just say...? All current thougthts disappeared when his hand started to caress her thigh.
Elisabet woke early next morning. Staring at the softly snoring man beside her she realised she was really attracted to him. Of course she had always liked the intelligent, broading type, but Snape was bad news. She had no illusions about what had happened between them. He got drunk, she was there and he would make her pay for all this. She knew the type all to well. Somehow he would blame her for his mistake, but she would be damned if she would let him away with it. She would show Severus Snape just who he was playing with!
If she survived this morning that is.
SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS
Severus Snape opened his eyes and immediately regretted it. To avoid the sharp rays of sun he rolled over to his back and found this to be a really bad idea. His head pounded, he could feel the bile rise in his throat and by the taste in his mouth, some incontinent creature must have passed through it during the night.
Exaggeratedly careful, he sat up in the bed and rested his head in his hands.
"I´m too old for this."
The sound of his own voice made him shudder. Debating with himself whether opening his eyes again would kill him or not he decided to be brave. Blinking rapidly, trying to adjust to the sunlit room, he realised something was amiss. He was quite sure his room usually had blue walls rather than pale yellow.
The desk was missing and as his brain started to work he realised that this was in fact not his room.
The door opened and the horrible woman in his charge walked in.
" Oh, eh...um... good morning sir!" she blurted out, furiously blushing. She had come fresh from the shower, and suddenly Severus felt terribly old. Her light flowery scent made his head throb worse than ever. The sudden memory of her hot and willing body writhing under him made his groin twitch and he took a deep breath trying to figure out what to say.
He realised this was a very bad move when his stomach turned, and without thinking he rushed out of bed, stumbled in to the bathroom and vomited.
SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS ss SS
A/N My first ever, so please let me know what you think.
