This is my story

If you've ever been to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry then you know that it's a strange place. Staircases that move, doors that aren't doors, walls that aren't walls and rooms that aren't there.

One such abnormality: the Room of Requirement. It's rarely used, not after the catastrophe involving Dolores Umbridge and most the school becoming aware of it. However, I did say "rarely".

Severus Snape, having heard about this peculiar room from one of his students (a member of the disbanded Inquisitorial Squad), decided to verify the account. So one Friday after dinner he made his way to the seventh floor. He navigated the corridors until he reached the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy: a ridiculous piece of art depicting an even more ridiculous event. Swivelling on the spot he turned to face the hard grey stones of the blank wall. Remembering the words of his student, he paced in front of the bare stone three times focusing on a need of his.

A door appeared where there had been only stone. Stepping through the door, Severus could have sworn that the Room was broken. Shock was evident on his face, in his eyes. Had he been any less restrained his jaw would have dropped. THIS was what the Room deemed necessary for him?

" No, Professor, 'this' is what the room has deemed necessary for me," I told him. He visibly jumped, he hadn't noticed me before I had spoken, answering his question.

"I take it I spoke aloud?" Severus asked me.

"Indeed," I smiled slightly. "What brings you to my little hiding place?"

"I'd hardly call it yours. Or a hiding place," was added on. "Ninety percent of the school knows of the Room's existence."

"That's true. However, only the teachers and very few students have the ability to focus on a particular need. The teachers have their own chambers so the getaway of the Room isn't particularly wanted. Students never think that the Room can give them what they need, despite its design."

"That's because students are dim-witted. Present company not included, occasionally. How often do you come here?" A quirk of the lips told me that he was joking, at least partially.

"Every night. The library's unnecessary when I can get everything I need from the Room, including food, which Madame Pince would..."

"Scream bloody murder and kick you out for good for even thinking about eating in her sacred room, yes I remember."

"Professor, don't tell me you were ever … un-sneaky enough to get caught eating in the library."

"No, not me. But James Potter was."

"Let me guess, you get a warm fuzzy feeling just thinking about his punishment?" I teased lightly. I knew I was taking a risk, but exam stress was making me a little crazy.

"Quite." A small smile made its way onto Severus's mouth. I couldn't speak, two smiles in as many minutes, if only the rest of the student body could see this. A smile almost made it to my face, imagining the shock, the horror and the fainting spells that would plague those who even believed the story. "So we've covered why you come HERE, but WHY do you come here? What's wrong with the company of the other two-thirds of the trio? Is the company of Potter and Weasley not good enough for you?"

"In a word, no. They're my best friends, but they can be so infuriating. It's all 'Quidditch, Quidditch, Quidditch' with them. Heaven forbid either of them should think that my only concern with Quidditch is when they're playing. Neither of them could discuss a book they read recently, because the only ones they read that aren't about Quidditch are school books – and that's only when necessary. It's unbelievably dull being around with them every day now that Voldemort…" Severus flinched almost unnoticeably, "is gone and we don't have researching or strategising to do."

"You're the only person I've heard say a bad thing about His downfall," Severus joked quietly. He finally sat down beside me, the only sign he gave me that he recognized what it was like to be around people who didn't understand you.

"How do I do it? How do I keep my friendship and not kill myself out of boredom? Each evening I spend in this room I get more and more distanced from those two idiots I call my friends. They barely talk to me as it is, knowing I'm only going to make them feel inferior. Is it harsh to say that it's not just a feeling, they are inferior?"

"Not at all. It's a statement of fact, no matter how 'harsh' the fact may sound." Severus told me. His hand jerked slightly. Only later, during the summer holidays, did I learn that he wanted to give me some form of comfort; a hand on my shoulder, I think.

"Going back to my earliest question, are you going to answer it?"

"I beg your pardon."

"What brings you to the Room? If you'd like my exact words, I'm sure we could cover the beginning of our conversation all over again." I teased, referring to calling the Room 'my little hiding place.'

"Curiosity, to tell you the truth. After hearing so much about this infamous Room, I wanted to see it for myself. I didn't count on one thing – another occupant."

"And have you satisfied that curiosity yet? Or do you need a…more thorough demonstration of its uses?" I asked, trying to keep the hope of my voice.

Time for a bit of backstory. The last few months of my school career have been rather…emotional to say the least. Since Voldemort's demise, I've developed a bit of an attachment to Severus. With no one to report his actions to a non-existent Master, he was free to treat all his students as he wanted. He wasn't nicer, per se, just a little less biased. Slytherin students failed, Gryffindor students excelled and Hufflepuff students weren't called idiots quite as often as they had been previously.

Had Severus not announced to his seventh year class that he 'was being forced to take on an assistant for an unknown length of time by the Headmaster' and that anyone who wished to brew basic potions for both Madam Pomfrey's and his own stores could apply for the position and would receive a letter of recommendation from him for whichever career they chose. I, of course, applied immediately. How could I not? I would have the chance to work with a man with knowledge I could only ever hope to achieve.

Sure, Harry and Ron thought it was a bad idea, and voiced their opinions on more than one occasion in the three-month period I worked with Severus. I, however, now see it as one of the greatest times of my Hogwarts education. I learnt so much, the least being the potions knowledge I picked up. I learnt that Severus was more than just a teacher or a spy. He was a person, a human being with his own personality.

And what a personality he has. The sarcasm and cutting remarks the students hear everyday are nothing compared to the wit and humour I heard with him. Rarely, yes, but I heard them.

And at some point, in those three months, I fell. I saw the man behind the sour mask and from then onwards, I would never see Severus Snape as anything other than a man, and an attractive one at that.

"Why not? Let's have a demonstration." Severus requested, sitting in one of the chairs.

Oh no. How could I do this and let my secret remain just that. Remembering Ron's motto 'keep it simple, stupid', I thought that I needed a book. How could a book possibly do any damage to my secret? How wrong could I go with a book?

"The Karma Sutra? I had no idea you…" Oh, God no!

"Oh shit! I didn't…I mean, the Room…it…" Why wouldn't that eyebrow fall? His eyes met mine and for a brief second, I saw memories of my times with him passing across my mind.

Oh shit!

From what Harry had told me, I could only surmise that Severus was using Legilimency. That meant that…Oh shit!

To give the professor credit, he did recover from his shock rather quickly. Images of me in a compromising position calling his name were the last ones he saw in her mind. His jaw didn't drop, his eyebrow fell to its resting position and he … didn't look disgusted.

"Well, I must admit, that is a revelation. The Gryffindor bookworm has a crush on her professor."

I couldn't speak. What was there to say? I couldn't agree for obvious reasons, but I couldn't disagree either – he'd know I was blatantly lying. I chose not to say anything, wondering if what he was actually going to say next was as bad as I was imagining.

"But not unexpected."

My jaw dropped slightly and it was all I could do not to start stammering like an idiot. "Sir?"

"As I'm sure you've realised, the headmaster, Miss Granger, is a manipulative old man. Albus Dumbledore lives to make people his pawns whether for serious issues…"

"Like the war," I interjected.

"Like the war, or for his own amusement. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

"I think so," I mumbled, not looking him in the eye.

"Then let me make this absolutely clear. The headmaster insisted I take an assistant, knowing that you would jump at the opportunity to learn – not to mention a letter of recommendation from me. He orchestrated the entire situation so that we could work closely and form a…truce, to begin with."

"And we did. Does that mean…?"

"That Dumbledore enjoys matchmaking in his spare time? Yes, it does. It also means that, should anything ever develop between the two of us he would be willing to turn a blind eye to it. But that, Miss Granger, is a story for another time."

"Sir?" I looked at him confusedly.

Severus leaned towards me from the chair he occupied. His lips gently brushed against my cheek and, as suddenly as this surreal episode began, he stood up and left the room.


AND I'm back! The first piece of writing I've done in months. Does anyone have a theory as to why the only time I'm harassed by a plot bunny is when exams are looming? I wasn't going to write anything, and I started this around Valentine's Day (being depressed, as any single person should be) and completely forgot about it. Until now. Hope you enjoyed it – let me know either way (yes, that's a hint for leave me a review). Lots of love, J