She sat at his desk, reading through some third year essays. 'Third years. Why are they always the most difficult?' She thought. Hermione was in Professor Snape's office where she sat every afternoon completing some of his marking. She had been his apprentice for about 5 months and was now at the beginning of her second term assisting him. Out of all the tasks the potions master assigned her, marking had to be her least favorite. But, it had to be done.
January at Hogwarts was always cold but deep in the dungeons it was down right freezing! 'How on earth does Snape keep from getting pneumonia down here?' She wondered. She cast a warming charm on herself and relaxed when the heat flowed from her head to her toes.
Half an hour later Professor Snape walked in through the door leading from his classroom-. "Finished marking?" he asked. He sounded rather brusque but Hermione knew it was only for show. He just finished his final class for the day, fifth year double potions with Slytherin and Gryffindor. Since the fall of the dark lord and the final battle at the school, feelings between the long feuding houses were much more friendly than anyone ever thought possible. Thanks to the black clad man standing in front of her, the "evil" stigma that befell the Slytherin house had vanished.
"Yes, sir. Just closed my red ink well."
"Excellent." He flourished his wand and a tea tray appeared. Then he set to fixing tea just how she and himself enjoyed it. Snape had surprised Hermione when they first took tea together. She always figured him to drink it straight. But that was not the case. He often had just as much sugar, if not more, than she, and just enough cream to turn it barely a shade or two lighter. He was very precise.
Professor Snape handed Hermione her cup, a small chocolate drizzled biscuit perched on the edge of the saucer. Something he had done since her first month there when he learned they were her favorite. She noticed his hand was cold when they touched hers in the exchange. She had realized that though he often looked cold and unfeeling when she was younger, he was much warmer to the touch and not all that unfeeling once one got to know him. "Are you cold Professor?" She asked.
He sighed, "Quite. But unfortunately there is not a fireplace with which to warm myself in front of."
"Why is that?"
"Well to begin with there was never one built down here. And there had been too much to deal with when the dark lord was in control, and the times between, for me to bother asking. And now, well, I just haven't gotten around to requesting one." He sipped his tea and nibbled on a cinnamon biscuit.
"Oh." Hermione thought for a moment. "Hang on just a moment." She got to her feet and dashed to the supply pantry. When she returned with a large jar, Snape looked rather confused. He watched as she muttered an incantation producing a flame in her hand which she promptly dropped into the jar. "Here you are, sir. This should keep you warm."
He smiled slightly, one corner of his mouth upturned. "Thank you, Miss Granger." He stared at the beautifully conjured flame dancing in front if his eyes. Through the years he had seen several of her flames, on a particular occasion much closer than his cloak cared to relive. But they were always a lovely blue hue. The flame in this jar was dark, deep green at the center. It eventually faded to a light blue, but for the majority it was green. This surprised him. "What affects the color of these flames? Do you choose it or does it just happen?" Whenever he used the spell his flames always came out the normal orangey yellow.
"I thought maybe it was because my favorite color was blue. My first few practices with it looked like normal flames. But once I added more feeling to it they became blue. And much warmer, I do believe."
He thought for a moment on her words. "Yes I remember that one at the quidditch match being rather hot and very difficult to put out." He smiled into his teacup and watched her over the rim as a lovely blush spread across her face.
Hermione could feel an embarrassed warmth spread through her. "Yes. Well." she busied herself with a biscuit not wanting to meet his gaze.
Snape chuckled at her. She always made his mood brighter. 'I wonder why…' He thought. "Do not worry Miss Granger. I do not harbor ill feelings against you. You were simply misinformed about me."
Hermione deflated a little. "Was that your initial thought when you found out I'd done it?"
"Well of course not!" He laughed aloud at that which in turn made Miss Granger giggle. "But when you stayed with me, kept me alive somehow, all of the ill feelings I had melted away."
Now she blushed scarlet. "It was nothing, sir." she whispered quietly.
"My dear, it was most certainly not nothing! You forsook your friends and stayed behind with the man you only knew as a traitor. That takes great strength. Do not underestimate yourself." Snape gave her a genuine smile, something not many people had witnessed.
"Yes, sir." Was all she could say and smiled back. The term of endearment did not go unnoticed.
He studied her for a moment. "Please, refrain from using 'sir' and 'professor' outside of classes." He asked more that commanded and Hermione didn't take offense to it. "You are my equal outside of those walls and I do not wish you to feel as though you are weaker." He finished off his tea and began to make a fresh cup.
"What would you like me to call you?" She asked. Her voice was shy and sweet.
He thought about it. He didn't expect her to ask this question. He assumed she'd call him Snape. But the way she asked conveyed that she genuinely cared about what he wanted. "If you please, Severus." He said finally, stirring his tea.
She smiled. "Just so long as you call me Hermione. No more Miss Granger, please."
"Alright."
They sat there in companionable silence, mulling over the recent exchange. Then a thought crossed Severus's mind. "Why is it that you stayed with me instead of following after Potter and Weasley that night? You could have sent someone to me, or just left me."
Hermione looked rather shocked at this statement. Then she blushed lightly again. "After all you had done for us, for the whole of the Wizarding race, you deserved more than to be left to die. I couldn't leave you knowing everything I had."
"But you couldn't have known I was going to live." He said simply.
"Well, no. But you didn't deserve to die alone. If that had been your fate, I would have sat with you to the end. I wanted to help you in anyway I could, regardless of which way you went." she had tears in her eyes now and tried to hide them, turning away from him so he wouldn't see them fall.
But he saw anyway.
Severus abandoned his tea and moved to kneel in front of her. He took her hands in his now warm ones and made her look at him. "I owe my life to you, Hermione. You saved me from terrible fate. You need not cry over me now. Please dry your eyes. I am here, I am alive." He brushed his thumb over one cheek and wiped away the trail of tears.
She sniffed and slowly looked up and into his eyes. Severus couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw a spark dancing in her round, whiskey coloured eyes. "I am most glad that you are." her eyes fluttered down to his lips and back to his eyes.
Was that spark he saw desire? 'No. I'm mistaken. I have to be.' He thought.
But when she leaned towards him ever so slowly he thought that maybe he was wrong. He looked into her eyes, silently asking for permission. The way her eyes gleamed at him gave him his answer. He leaned in the rest of the way and their lips finally met. It was like fire spread through him. This girl, no, woman, she was a woman, no doubt in his mind. She was like fire for his cold heart. This woman that saved his life, made him feel more alive! 'How can this be? What am I doing? How can she possibly feel, well, whatever this is, towards me?' It didn't matter, none of it did. All that mattered was that this beautiful woman was now in his arms. Quite literally, in fact. Somehow she was off her chair and in his embrace, her arms around his neck, his engulfing her.
They broke for air. Severus began to apologize but Hermione put a finger to his lips. "No. Do not be sorry. I'm not in the least." She smiled. Severus thought she looked even more beautiful like this, flushed and flustered. Had his hands been through her hair? He couldn't be sure but the way her wild curls were now loose instead of in the slightly tamer chignon made him lean toward yes. "I don't know what this is, what we are now, Severus, but…." she hesitated and blushed, "I think I like it."
He smiled. "I like it too. Very much." He leaned in and kissed her again, deeper and more passionate this time.
A/N: I wrote this a while back, probably 3 or so years ago, just dabbling to get an idea out of my head, and I forgot about it till yesterday when I found it in the far recesses of my computer! After having my wonderful sister read through it tell me her thoughts, I decided to post it. Thinking of continuing it, maybe adding a backstory chapter where Hermione saves his life and maybe continue from there. Let me know what you think!
Much Love,
Nanahbelle