Author's Note: I do not own anything you recognize, nor am I making any money (I wish).
"What foolishness is this?" growled Snape. He detested being approached by students after-hours – it was one of the main reasons he had willingly taken the dungeons for his living quarters. Tonight, however, it seemed that the dark, cold dreariness of the stones had failed to prevent a certain student from intruding on his solitude.
"Well, Miss Granger? I asked you what has brought you to my door – most uninvited, I might add – at this time of night. For someone who appears to be incapable of closing her mouth in my class, you now seem to be quite at a loss for words, and I confess a slight interest as to what could have rendered you speechless. You have three seconds to speak or I shall shut the door and leave you to your floundering, however." Snape stared at the girl, wondering what could have possibly led her to seek him out. He noted that her cheeks contained a pale flush, and her expression was pained, as though she was not convinced it had been a very good idea to come here.
His suspicions were confirmed when she replied, "It's…it's nothing, Professor. I'm sorry," and began to walk away. Snape sighed.
"You have hardly interrupted my evening's research for 'nothing', Miss Granger. Out with it or it shall be detention for you." This was an empty threat, but Snape knew she would not risk a blemish on her otherwise perfect record.
She knew he knew it as well, for she was rolling her eyes at him as she turned to face him.
"Oh, fine, then. You won't like it, however," she cautioned, raising an eyebrow as though asking permission to continue. Snape merely returned a commanding glare, and she shook her head slightly before continuing. "Very well. I have been…That is to say…" she trailed off, her cheeks turning a bright red, and she looked at the floor as she muttered, "I should like to give you a hug." She closed her eyes in embarrassment.
Snape leaned against his doorframe, contemplating the girl before him. Truthfully, she was no longer a girl – and had not been for a long time. Hermione Granger was one of the handful of students who had returned for their "8th year" at Hogwarts – students whose 7th year had been disrupted by the war. Those who had returned were easily identifiable by the haunted look in their eyes and the lack of spirit they showed for the more mundane activities at their old school. The faculty had scarcely known what to do with these untraditional students, so they had their own separate lessons – which were only very loosely structured – and a wealth of free time in which to study, meander the grounds, or socialize with the other 8th years. Headmistress McGonagall felt that these special cases just needed time and space to heal, hence the warning to all staff members to treat them carefully. Snape rather thought they would benefit more from being treated as though nothing had changed, but few people were willing to reprimand the heroes of the Wizarding world for something as pathetic as failing to turn in homework. Although he frequently threatened them with detentions, regardless, he had yet to actually assign any. He had had quite enough of being thought a villain.
"So, I am to understand that you have…chosen…to hug me, Miss Granger?" She nodded, her eyes still closed. "And what, may I ask, will be the forfeit should you fail to do so?"
At this, Hermione's eyes opened, and her flush darkened further. "How did you…"
"You are involved in a game of Wizarding Truth or Dare, am I correct?" He knew that the students participated in this game whenever things needed livening up. And the newly returned 8th years seemed to be pushing the boundaries beyond anything that Snape had ever been part of – it was as though they did not feel truly alive unless they were spurring one another to do more and more dangerous actions. Last week, he had been summoned to help Madam Pomfrey determine which antidote would be safe to use on Dean Thomas, who was defiantly smug after successfully drinking a concoction of several unknown potions on a dare. He supposed it was their way of coping with their uncertain place in a world without Voldemort. He continued. "The rules of which game state that failure to answer a question truthfully or complete a dare successfully will result in a compulsory forfeit action. Indeed, Miss Granger, difficult though it may be to believe – I am familiar with such frivolous pastimes. And I can think of no other possible reason that you should have ventured down here to accost me in my living quarters." She flinched at this last sentence but stood her ground. Snape straightened and moved closer to her. "I must ask: how did a sensible person such as you allow themselves to be involved in such a ridiculous game?"
Snape watched with fascination as her emotions flitted across her face: anger at him for calling her silly, rebelliousness, defiance, and then, defeat.
"They said – they said I was – boring," she whispered, looking down again.
Snape well knew the injuries that could be afflicted – often unknowingly – by one's peers. He sighed again, pondering his options. Hermione's shoulders were slumped uncharacteristically, and the fiery spark that had defined her attitude before the war had been rather thoroughly wiped away by the events of the past year. Though he knew he would likely regret it, he made his decision.
"If I remember correctly, Miss Granger, you will earn immunity from a future truth or dare of your choice should you exceed the terms of your current dare. Is that still the case?"
She seemed surprised by his tone and finally met his eyes. "Yes, that is true," she said slowly. She was considering him with a curious yet calculating expression.
"Then I propose this: let us return to your friends, at which time I will fulfill the terms of your dare, fully and in their presence so that there can be no mistake of your success. I suggest that you allow me to do the talking and play along. Are you willing to do exactly as I ask?" He was taken aback by the force with which he wanted her to agree. He told himself it was only because he wanted to put the bratty young witches and wizards in their place.
After a moment of silence, in which Hermione stared hard at him, she finally nodded. Snape strode past her and headed back towards the fourth floor hallway, where the entrance to the 8th years' common room could be found. They had been given their own separate dormitories – again, a mistake, Snape thought. They needed to be surrounded by normalcy now, not isolated. However, he had been overruled in this as well.
He heard the light footsteps as Hermione turned and followed him. He wondered when she would find her tongue again. He did not have to wait long.
"Professor, you really don't have to do this – it was silly of me to ask. I shouldn't have let them get to me." She sounded slightly breathless, but not due to exertion.
"Is the thought of embracing me truly so terrible, Miss Granger?" Snape asked her, but he was smiling gently. Hermione gave him a tremulous smile in response.
"No, of course that's not what I meant, but I…" she looked at him as though she was seeing him for the first time. "Just now – was that – were you – teasingme?" Her grin spread wider.
"I have been known to do so on occasion," Snape replied, enjoying himself. They reached the statue of armor guarding the entrance to the common room. "Now, remember: you are to go along with my charade, and in return, you will win your dare and avoid the penalty."
"Yes, sir!" she answered him, a light in her eyes that Snape had not seen there for a long time.
"Very good. You always were quick to catch on," he said, laughing to himself at her astonished look before turning and muttering a spell and entering the common room.
The group of 8th year students were lounging on the sofas and chatting idly while they waited for Hermione to return. He noted several bottles of Firewhisky which were quickly whipped out of view when the students looked up and saw who had entered. He adopted his sternest expression as he addressed the group, Hermione coming to stand beside him.
"It has come to my attention," he whispered menacingly, "that there is a most childish diversion taking place amongst our eldest students this evening. As Miss Granger has so pitifully informed me," and here he sneered at Hermione, who did her best to look abashed, "she has been unwittingly bound to complete a dare involving none other than myself." He noted with pleasure that all of the students were looking wary, and several were shooting apologetic glances at Hermione, who was studying her feet. "I will only say this once, so take note – youarenottoinvolveme in your silly games in the future."
There was complete silence at this pronouncement, and with a quick glance upward, Snape confirmed that his spell had been cast before turning to face Hermione. "Now, I believe, you have a dare to complete," he said in an imperious tone. She nodded, still not looking at him. He could see the ghost of a smile playing about her lips. "Miss Granger," he barked at her, "come here."
Hermione's eyes shot to him questioningly before moving to a point just over his head. Her mouth fell open in surprise even as she took the two steps towards him. Smirking at the expressions of shock the students would be wearing in a moment, Snape wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Before either of them could change their minds, Snape leaned down and kissed Hermione. It was rather a more thorough kiss than he had intended, as her hands snaked up and knotted themselves in his hair, holding him to her. After a few moments, however, he remembered their audience and broke their kiss. The rest of her classmates were frozen in a tableau of stunned reactions, unsure of what they were seeing. Standing at his full height, he intoned, "I believe that earns you an immunity in your game?" When she nodded, smiling, he turned to leave.
"Thank you, Professor," came Hermione's voice, stronger and more full of life than he had heard it in quite some time. He turned his head to look at her.
"Do not pester me with your foolishness again, Miss Granger," he responded, smiling ever so slightly when she gave him a saucy wink. With a swirl of black robes, he was gone.
As he strode back to the dungeons, Snape offered up silent thanks to whichever former Headmaster had installed the magical mistletoe in the castle.