1AN: a oneshot valentine fic Hermione/Snape
Sry but please disregard HBP for this fic.
She watched with the same acute attention to detail that she used on all her school-work. She watched his face as it became emotionless while he focused all his attention and energy on the potion in front of him.
The rest of the class remained oblivious, chatting amongst each-other, as his skilled hand stirred the potion gently ignoring them as only a strong-minded person would be able to. Her eyes followed the swift motions of his wrist, as his eyes focused on the instructions he had scrawled neatly on a paper beside the small cauldron.
Harry and Ron were engaged in a quidditch conversation and left her to her silent observations. For one she felt lucky that her two best friends were oblivious of her, for it gave her more time to study her teachers harsh features in a more peaceful position. For once she saw him, and he wasn't scolding or unleashing a cruel comment, instead he looked almost human.
She studied his cruel dark eyes and wondered to herself what color they were. She had never actually seen his eyes, or she had but she had never really noticed the color they shone. The students always claimed they were black, but she felt they were wrong. Even from her distance she could tell that his calculating eyes were not black, but instead seemed to be a dark brown color. Then again she couldn't see them very well from her seat, even if it was in the front row.
Her eyes traveled downwards falling onto his crooked nose, large and crooked it drew her attention. She knew that for a nose to be so crooked genetics couldn't be the only thing to blame, though a fair share of students claimed that he hadn't been born and was instead created from the many corpses of hell to serve as the devils servant. She instead chalked it up to an injury that never fully healed, most likely the output of childhood brawls long past.
He eyes drifted to a strand of thick black hair, which fell into his face and he leant down for a closer look at his work. The light shone of his hair, grease making his hair appear heavy and eternally wet. For once she agreed with her classmate, and truly believed that he never washed his hair. She wasn't saying that he never bathed but instead believed he simply didn't believe in the use of shampoos, after all they were a muggle invention.
Her eyes continued downward staring at his mouth, thin and set in a bland emotionless expression. They were a dull pink, barely standing out from his sallow skin, but she noticed them as they twitched slightly as he read his notes. She watched in fascination as they displayed different positions as he diligently worked on his potion. His thin lips changing into a smirk as he triumphed over a complication and into a frown as he raised his eyes and noticed her studying his features.
She looked away blushing a deep shade of pink as the tables were turned and his eyes were now searching her face, searching for a reason to explain her not-so-subtle observations. The clock seemed to tick even slower, even after his mind was back to focusing on the potion he was brewing. Eventually the time winded down and the class ended, but nobody dared move lest they face the wrath of their dreaded potions professor.
"Class dismissed." his stern voice rung across the room. Every student, regardless of house, took haste in packing their school bags and rushing for the door. She packed her bags slower, wanting to be the last one in the room to do what she was about to do.
In what seemed like moments all of he classmates were out the door, including her two friends who were anxious to get to quidditch practice, and she was left alone standing by her desk watching the professor and he continued his work. She walked up to his desk, hand clutching to the item she had waited behind to give him. She would have felt less nervous if he hadn't looked up and met her gaze as she nervously walked up to his desk.
It had only been a few feet but it felt as though she was walking a mile under his cold gaze. She almost wished that she hadn't decided to do this, scared to death of the potential consequences for her actions. She stopped in front of him and he gave her a look which was uninviting and disheartening.
Determined to not be deterred because of one cold look she raised her hand out before her a light red heart shaped card outstretched for Professor Snape to grab. Surely enough he did, taking it with swift motion of the wrist and pulling it in close for him to read.
"Granger, what the devil is this?" He asked quizzically as he observed the many tiny heart shaped sparkles on the card and read its short message. She had been prepared for this reaction, as well as many other negative reactions, and was quick to explain herself.
"Today is February 14th. The day of a muggle holiday in which you give those special to you a gift. Whether it be chocolates or..."
"I know, very well, what valentine's day is. It is celebrated in the wizarding world you know." He answered plainly.
"If you knew what it was than why did you ask me Professor?" She asked, in a smart-ass way that would make Ron proud.
"I know what this is, What I want to know is why the devil you feel the need to give me a valentine day card." She had prepared herself for this question too.
"I gave you the card because you deserve it Professor." Her soft tone appeared to catch him off guard as he continued to stare at the card. "I just wanted to let you know that you are not alone, and that I care about you." Hermione admitted.
She couldn't stay after that, and her feet quickly led her to the classroom door. Her ears were buzzing and she could feel the blush that had risen to her checks as she left not daring to look back. She had practically admitted her feelings for a teacher, and now her gryfindor courage left her as she practically ran away.
"Thank you." His soft voice mumbled as she left the room, she froze for a moment, practically in shock from what she heard. He had not demeaned her for admitting she cared for him but instead thanked her. She looked behind her to watch him begin stirring the potion again, but not before he slipped the small card into the top drawer of his desk.
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