All characters and original plot go to Mrs J.. I own nothing but the plot. This is AU and does not really follow the last two books in things such as Character death. Some of you may notice that this is exactly the same as my other story 'Christmas Ball' which i have not updated in a long time. This is because i have spent my time reading better stories and picking up writing tips, so i hope when you re - read this chapter it will be a bigger improvement. Thanks x Chapter One - The First Ball
Hermione sighed hopelessly. Who'd have thought she'd have been so...bored? The last Christmas Ball she had been to in her fourth year had been fun! She danced all night with Victor and generally had an amazing time! This time however, she had accepted Ron's hasty and nervous invitation, hoping frantically that he would sweep her off her feet and be the grown up gentleman that she knew he could be. But no, they were just sat at a table near the dance floor watching different couples move across the floor.
It seemed the tables had turned for Harry however. He had booked up the courage and asked Ginny to the ball. She had managed to drag him onto the dance floor, encouraging him to lead her gracefully into a slow waltz. Gracefully wasn't really the best word to use, as Hermione could see Harry's cheeks flame in embarrassment as he quietly spoke an apology each and every time he managed to tread on Ginny's feet. It amazed Hermione how Ginny continued to beam regardless.
Hermione grinned, it was just another piece of evidence that Harry and Ginny were practically made for one another. Ginny had frequently said that Ron and Hermione could have the same chemistry that the couple shared, but Hermione was beginning to disagree. She and Ron were two totally different people. She knew that if they were married he would expect her to take that same occupation that his own mother took when she married Mr Weasley. Hermione eventually wanted a family, but she wanted a career first, something that she could excel at. If they were meant to be together then Ron would understand that, and he never managed to understand her need for learning. No, Hermione needed someone who could understand her intelligence and match it equally. She craved someone who could give her an engaging conversation on something she could relate to, unlike Ron who only ever discussed Quidditch and food.
She glanced sideways at her date, taking in his own bored facial expression and his slumped form, his arms crossed across his chest. She sighed again and leant across the small space between them, tapping him lightly on the shoulder.
He looked up with a small smile.
"Are we going to dance then? It looks like fun doesn't it?" she asked hopefully.
Ron's smile dropped and he glanced back towards the dancing couples. He shook his head.
"I don't really dance Hermione." He said quietly.
Hermione frowned at him and scoffed, he looked back at the noise.
"If you don't dance Ron, then why did you invite me to the ball?" she asked him.
He shrugged his shoulders, a frown of his own on his face as though he couldn't understand why she wanted him to dance.
"I thought we would have a good time," he explained.
Hermione gave a sarcastic laugh and stood, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders.
"Take a good look Ronald; does it look like I'm having a good time? Thank you for the invitation but I believe it would be better if I left you alone. I am feeling pretty tired after all." She gave him one last withering look, before sighing and walking away swiftly. She thought he would shout her, or at least follow her, but when she turned to look back he had only moved to join another table where another girl was sat.
She felt her eyes water slightly. Even though she knew that she and Ron would never be together anyway, it still hurt to know that he could easily move on to the next girl just because she wasn't interested.
Wiping her eyes roughly, she made her way over to the punch bowl, watching her other friends dance whilst she got a drink. Ladling herself a plastic cup full, she gave a small smile and a mock toast to the two, before knocking it back.
She choked when the liquid burned her throat. She stared at the empty cup, shock welling through her body. Grabbing another cup she smelt the red liquid and her eyes widened. Firewhiskey!
She quickly scanned the hall and her eyes fell on one particular table which held about five 7th year boys laughing between themselves and holding onto each other as they swayed idiotically to the music. She frowned at the two who was in the middle of the small group. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan. Trust those two to spike the punch and then act like complete fools making it obvious to everyone around them. She caught Professor McGonagall watching them closely, both brows dipped in a suspicious frown. Hermione rolled her eyes. There was no need to be suspicious; it was plainly obvious why they were acting the way they were!
Tossing the empty cup back onto the table, she poured the red liquid back into the punch bowl before throwing away the other cup. After giving the hall another glance she turned her back to the music and made her way through the open double doors, quickly walking down the steps of the castle. The snow crunched under her feet, soaking the soft black suede of her shoes and making her feet scrunch in protest of the cold. But she didn't care.
She made her way across the grounds, oblivious to the cold December air. Once she'd found a quiet spot out of view of the castle, she pulled her wand from her small bag and pointed it to the snow laden ground. Silently, she made hot steam sprout from the tip of her wand, melting the snow in seconds. Smiling to herself, she stood in the green grass which had been beneath the snow, and sat down slowly, looking across the grounds in silence.
She thought about her relationship with Ron. He wouldn't talk about his attitude to her the next morning and would act as if nothing had actually happened. His ignorance towards his actions always hurt her. The fact that he could pretend that everything between them was fantastic and that they could continue to act the same way felt like a knife had been thrust into he body, and every time it happened it was as if he twisted it that much more.
When they had gotten together after the final battle, she felt on top of the world. It had seemed like Ron had changed for the better! But slowly he started to become as he was before the threat of Lord Voldemort was upon them. And she knew there was no future with that Ron Weasley. She knew he would never appreciate her mind and love her for being just that...her.
During her train of thought, she failed to notice the black figure looming behind her.
"Good evening Miss Granger."
Hermione jumped up and span on the spot as quickly as her high heels would allow her. She pointed her wand into the black clad chest, a spell already on the tip of her tongue. That was until she met a pair of amused black eyes and a small smirk upon the pale face of her potions professor.
She immediately dropped her wand and placed a hand on her heaving chest, giving the sour professor a steely look.
"Professor Snape, you frightened me!" she exclaimed.
He smirked. "I apologise Miss Granger, it was unintentional," he explained, "Why, may I ask, are you out here when the ball is inside the castle?" he asked.
Hermione dropped her hand and shrugged, turning around again and sitting back in the same spot.
"I would much rather be on my own then spend another moment in that hall. We may have reason to celebrate but that doesn't mean we should get drunk and act like complete idiots." She explained, scorn making its way into her voice as she thought of Ron and then Seamus and Dean.
He scoffed.
"It seemed to me that you could not stand anymore of Mr Weasley's...delectable company and needed some fresh air." He commented.
She turned her head and frowned at him.
"It seems to me as if you have been watching me Sir." She said shortly. Silence remained between them for a moment or two and she smirked to herself, glad to make him speechless for the time being.
"Someone has spiked the punch?" he asked quietly. She nodded, "Who?"
She shrugged, and tucked a fallen piece of hair behind her ear. She heard him sigh and though he would leave, but when she turned her head slightly again, she found him still stood behind her.
"Why are you out here Professor? Surely you didn't follow me with an ambition to lead me into a conversation about Ron Weasley did you?" she asked. He scoffed and shook his head.
"Nothing in this world would make me converse about Ronald Weasley." He told her, "Not that it is any of your business Miss Granger, but I certainly have better things to do than watch teenagers and adults alike get insanely drunk and, in your own words, act like complete idiots." He explained. Hermione nodded and gave a small laugh.
"Are you sure you're not meant to be looking for misbehaving couples who have ran away from the ball?" she asked suggestively, remembering where he spent most of his time at the Yule Ball in her 4th year.
He snorted and stood beside her. "I do not think i have any wish to find students such as yourself divulging in their own sexual natures."
She frowned.
"What are you trying to suggest Professor?" she asked.
"Nothing of the sort Miss Granger, I simply meant students who have a significant other. Such as Mr Weasley and yourself." He explained.
She suddenly let out a loud laugh at the hilarity of his statement.
"Professor, Ron and I certainly are not a couple! Why would I situate myself with someone who remains simply obtuse and ignorant to everything around him! Not even if I danced naked before him, covered in chocolate sauce with a sign around my neck saying 'eat me' would he do anything. He is simply not on my level." she exclaimed. He stared at her for a moment before looking away.
"I certainly do not remember asking for a dramatic story of your relationship Miss Granger-"
"Hermione, Sir." She said quickly before she lost her nerve. He frowned.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I told you to call me Hermione. It is my first name and I am asking you to call me as such." She told him.
"And why should I call you by your first name?" he asked.
"Because I think you earned that right when you saved my life in the final battle. You have worked the hardest in the war and you had the most dangerous job. So, I would like you to call me Hermione," she explained. He thought for a moment then nodded.
"Then I give you permission to call me…Severus," she nodded.
"Severus," she said, feeling it roll of her tongue like silk. She smiled. "Why don't you sit down?" She said. He glanced at the space next to her and slowly sat.
As soon as he sat beside her, she felt able to open up and be herself. It was as if she was speaking to another student and not her Professor. She felt as though they were equals and he needn't have to speak down to her or treat her any differently. She felt ultimately comfortable around him, which was strange considering how uncomfortable he could make his students feel. They discussed everything, from the War, to different potions and even some muggle literature that they both enjoyed. In fact, she found it was the most interesting and alluring conversation she had had ever since she had started Hogwarts.
Soon the music began to quieten and they looked back to the castle.
"It sounds like the ball is finishing..." he said, a low tone to his voice. Hermione thought it could have been said in sadness. She also felt miserable; she had enjoyed Severus' company a great deal. She felt like she had finally found that person who she could have a deep conversation with about anything and everything.
The walk back to the stone steps leading into the castle felt like seconds as they walked beside one another in silence. As they stepped through the doors into the entrance hall, Hermione caught him boldly by the arm, stopping him.
"Thank you for keeping me company. I enjoyed it." She whispered.
He nodded and gave her a small smile. Swallowing her nerve she pulled him towards her and laid a small kiss upon his cheek. Pulling away she felt a blush erupt across her cheeks as she whispered, "Happy Christmas Severus," before quickly taking the stairs up to the seventh floor.
Severus stood there, with a hand on the spot where her lips had brushed against his cheek making his skin burn.
In the dim light of the castle, yet no one could see, the cold hearted man smiled for the first time in years and turned towards the dungeon corridor.