DISCLAIMER: I sadly do not own anything that the wonderful J.K. Rowling created and unfortunately, that means Harry Potter. Darn!


Summary: Hermione is in a foul mood because of the upcoming exams. How was she supposed to get anything done with people in her way of her precious studying? And don't even get her started on that bastard of a professor, Snape. Insufferable, frustrating and downright irresistible…


The Attraction of Intellect - Chapter One

THE heat in the dungeons was incredibly unbearable. Hermione could feel the sweat bead at her neck and slip down her collar, soaking her already grungy uniform. Another annoying strand of hair fell in her face and she brushed it back with impatience. This detention is such a pain in my arse. Will he ever stop staring at me? It's driving me insane. The fucking potion is hard enough to make with my full concentration! She could feel his eyes on her, sending her into nervous fits every now and then. Steam from the potion simmering in the cauldron swirled up, sluggish and lazy from the dark blue concoction. Hermione gracelessly dropped a fairy wing into the potion, almost knocking over her scales in the process.

The silence was deafening. The heat was stifling. The classroom was muggy. The potion was a bitch. Snape was judging. And it was all too much for her.

"STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP!", Hermione screamed, throwing down her ladle with a clang to the stone floor, creating a lovely dent. "I cannot, I repeat, CANNOT create this fucking bitch of a potion if you keep staring at me. With all due respect Professor Snape, cut the shit!" With her chest heaving, her hair in complete disarray and her cheeks flushed a bright pink, she let out a nervous laugh after realizing her uncharacteristic outburst.

That entire time, Snape just sat across from her with the biggest smirk on his pale face. He slowly uncrossed his arms and rested his palms on the desk, pushing himself off and slowly walking towards his flustered student. As he circled around her like a vulture, he couldn't help but notice her body reacting to the sudden close space between them. Her dark brown eyes never left his form, giving away her nervousness. Her breathing was ragged and caught in her throat. Snape observed with amused satisfaction. He didn't care how the potion turned out, the punishment for her detention was his pleasure. She was to create an intricate potion while he made the entire process a living hell for her. Quite simple, really, he smirked. Well, she deserves it after what she pulled in my class today…

5 hours earlier…

"Honestly, Ron? You couldn't just put the chopped Gillyweed in the cauldron like I asked? How many times have I demonstrated for you?" With an unrepressed huff, Hermione took the knife from a flustered Ron and began slicing the Gillyweed into exact proportions. It had not been a good day for Hermione, to say the least. After all the stress of upcoming exams and, per usual, helping Harry and Ron cram along with all of her studying, she was not in the best of moods. That entire week she had been storming about, letting everyone know that she was not to be fooled with. Hermione was on a mission to excel in every exam category and no one was going to stop her. She pounded through the hallways as intimidating as her feminine frame could be perceived as menacing. This was somewhat comical to the entirety of Hogwarts, but no one dare even joke about that to the headstrong Gryffindor. In the meantime, Harry, Ron and basically everyone including the staff and student body were raising their eyebrows and rolling their eyes at Hermione. It was that time of year again, indeed…

One teacher in particular that always noticed these amusing outbursts was Professor Snape. As a conniving bastard himself, he reveled in the fact that none other than Hermione Granger could get her Gryffindor feathers so ruffled. Because of her rather bad mood lately, he found a spring in his step from thinking of all the ways he could make it that much worse for her: giving her detention. He knew that whatever potion he had her make she could master it. It was calling out her worst fear that made it so much more enjoyable for him: she either thrived or recoiled from judgement, and Snape was exceedingly good at delivering.

"Ms. Granger, did I not tell you to leave Mr. Weasley, however incompetent, to his own potion? Tsk tsk. How will you both ever learn if you don't use your somewhat functioning minds and put it to their own use? Hmm?" He loomed over their workspace and while Ron shrank from Snape's shadow, Hermione glared at him and was downright pissed off. Her last nerve had been snipped. She dropped the knife onto the table, the rest of the class looking up as it clattered to the beaten wooden surface. Everyone looked at her in shock. She tossed her long wavy hair behind her shoulder and placed her hand on her cocked hip. Simmering with rage at Professor Snape, she could not hold it in any longer. And he had the audacity to just smirk at her, like she was some form of entertainment!

"I will have you know, Professor, that I was simply helping out my fellow classmate with this potion. If you weren't so busy sneering at us and making it your life goal for us to wet ourselves in your very presence, maybe you should have been doing your duty as a teacher and, oh I don't know, teaching the correct way to brew a potion instead of staring at us, completely useless."

There was complete silence until one brave soul started to clap. Soon, the entire class erupted in applause and Snape did the scariest thing anyone has ever seen: he smiled. His face erupted into an enormous smile and he threw his head back with a rich, deep laugh. The clapping stopped and everyone stared at Snape, including a bewildered Hermione, who was currently supporting himself on a desk as his tall frame shuddered with each booming laugh. It felt like an eternity but after a few minutes, he wiped his tears and through choking laughter said to his outspoken student, "Ten points from…ah, what the hell?" Snape chuckled. "Ten points TO Gryffindor for that unbelievably horrid display of what you must have called bravado. I applaud you, Ms. Granger. I haven't been so amused in quite some time." Still chuckling, he made his way back to his desk and sat down, switching to a completely serious expression. "Oh, and by the way, Ms. Granger, you have detention. Now all of you get out of my classroom." There was a scramble to get out of the dungeons. Not one of the 7th years had ever witnessed something as strange and utterly creepy as Snape actually laughing. Was he fully human? No one really knows. Maniacal? A resounding, yes.

In detention…

She could feel his hot breath down her damp neck. He was testing her, and she knew it. But she couldn't help but acknowledge the fact that she was enjoying it immensely and that is why it bothered her so. Hermione and Snape had been battling with their minds and sharp mouths for years in the classroom but it wasn't until this year that she had actually enjoyed it. He was no longer just an intimidating professor, but an individual with an intellect to match her own and sarcasm to make her want to beat him senseless. She loved it and she hated him for it. Snape knew it.

Snape, like every other sensible male, knew the physical attractiveness of Hermione Granger. Her large dark brown eyes were her power and destroyer. Through them, she could convey any emotion but it could betray her as well for she could never hide what she was truly feeling. Her glossy deep brown hair fell in waves to just below her shoulder blades, but she never made a fuss about it. To her, it was just hair, something that was always in the way and that's what made it endearing when she impatiently tossed it behind her. She was a classic beauty, somewhat fragile and delicate. But the fire that brews within her is the most intoxicating thing of all. At their age, the 7th year boys notice only the physical while Severus has long known of her intellectual genius and beauty. Not that he was above appreciating everything that Hermione was, he is a man after all.

Hermione was a strong-willed woman, wanting to do everything perfect. She didn't have time for many flirtations in the past. Quite frankly, it left her exhausted and weary of the teenage male specimen. She had always admired Severus Snape, even if it was most of the time out of fear. But now she couldn't help to notice how much of a man he was. To her, it was alluring. Anyone could see how brilliant he was, but she noticed the way he walked with confidence, the way his dark eyes could tear someone apart with one glance and how without much movement from his hands, he was able to express so much emotion. Those hands that create potions and cast spells were mesmerizing to Hermione.

And there they were resting beside her. She was not above stealing a glance at the large, pale and graceful hands that were currently playing with one of the potion tools. Hermione stood still while he appraised her, waiting for him to say something, to mock her. Another strand of hair had eased its way out of her messy bun. Snape cocked his head and slowly moved the strand of dark hair over her shoulder, gently and deliberately grazing the material of her uniform.

Without realizing, she let go of her guard letting a small sigh escape, her eyelids softly fluttering. Snape couldn't help masking a slight smirk at the effect he had caused, but still a little unsure of himself. Before she could compose herself, he took another step towards her…


*Author's Note: Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, OH MY GOODNESS! What in the world is going on with Severus and Hermione? Well, you're just gonna have to read to find out! :P

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~QueenOfTheBrassQuill