Three Months Later
"…and I don't understand how you can be so keen on combining the fields of potions and chemistry, and yet be so opposed to bringing other, more accessible Muggle technologies into the Castle!"
"And are you at all aware of the sort of moronic and immoral things that youths do on computers? Now, Professor Granger, let us extrapolate that knowledge to the current population. Can you imagine what sort of mischief that they would create? Controlling the Restricted Section is bad enough, but the internet as well?"
"I've told you, they've reliable filters for that sort of thing..."
Minerva McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose in the futile attempt to ward off a budding headache brought on by the raging argument coming from her left. As usual, Severus and Hermione were going it at the High Table; despite the early hour and the fact that it was Monday morning, the pair had seemingly no difficulty summoning enough vitriol to continue the row that they had started weeks before.
Oh, but for one peaceful morning. Just one, without the two of them duking it out like demented, curse-addled nifflers… Warily, she motioned to Poppy, who was sitting to her right. "Pass the marmalade, will you?
Poppy did as requested, a faint moue of distaste crossing her face. "I don't know how you can eat something so sweet without all that," she jabbed her knife in the direction of the Muggle Studies Professor and the Headmaster, "…curdling your stomach. I don't know how much more I can take, quite frankly."
"Oh, for Pete's sake, a single computer lab does not constitute a den of inequity…" Minerva heard Hermione hiss in a nettled sort of tone.
Pomona, placing a dry piece of toast back on her plate, gave a quiet chuff of annoyance and joined in the lament. "Pity we can't stun them, strip them, and shove them into the nearest broom closet. That ought to sort out matters rather quickly, don't you think?"
"From your lips to Merlin's ears," Minerva replied acidly.
"This is an enchanted Castle," Neville Longbottom mused. "Just how hard could it be?"
Minerva slanted another glance at the pair; Hermione was gesturing wildly with one hand, the vibrant effervescence of her hair only matched by the sparks of combat written across her face. Severus, for his part, was lounging back in the large, ornate throne of a Headmaster's chair with an expression that could only be described as despotic. As he drummed his fingers on the wooden arms, he seemed to radiate masculine power and authority; really, Minerva marvelled, it was frankly astounding that the bloody man had ever managed to fool anybody into thinking that he would willingly serve them.
What seemed even more screamingly obvious was that Severus and Hermione quite fancied each other. That particular brand of chemistry was present in every hot-eyed glance, infused the barbs that they joyfully threw at each other, and permeated the air like a handful of stink bombs whenever they were present in the same room together.
Alas, they were both either blind to it or unwilling to put everyone in the Castle out of their misery by finally reaching an understanding. Thus, the students, staff and other sundry inhabitants of Hogwarts were stuck listening to Headmaster Snape and Professor Granger attempt to work out their rampant, raging frustrations in a wholly non-productive manner… breakfast, lunch, and supper.
The jarring clink of a fork hitting a plate caused Minerva- not to mention the rest of the people assembled in the Great Hall- to turn and openly stare at the rowing couple. With a muted sigh, Minerva loosened her wand from the sheath on her arm. One of these days, it's going to get ugly. My luck, I'll be the one left picking up the scattered pieces and explaining it all to the board…
"You are purposely misunderstanding me, and being a selectively idiotic Luddite to boot!" Hermione practically yelled into the sudden quiet.
That baffling statement apparently marked the end of Severus' patience; with a loud, grating, shriek, he shoved the chair back and rose. Placing a hand flat on the table, he loomed over Hermione, black eyes snapping and countenance supremely hostile.
For one, painfully long moment, the two glared, faces a mere hairsbreadth away from each other. Everyone seemed to hold their breaths; as Hermione licked her lip nervously, something dark and possessive flickered through Severus' gaze…
Then he blinked and went white-faced. "No." He enunciated the words carefully and precisely. For all that they were spoken, they seemed to travel the length breadth of the Hall. "For the final time, the answer is no, Professor Granger, and if you dare bring up this topic again, I will not hesitate to sack you."
Without waiting for a response, he straightened up, and with a last, venomous glance stalked out the staff exit.
Next to her, she heard Poppy- or perhaps it was Pomona- suck in a breath at the bald threat. Other that shocked exclamation, the Great Hall was frozen and silent. In the periphery of her vision, Minerva could see a large piece of smoked kipper fall out the open mouth of a Hufflepuff. Indeed, with all of the cutlery and goblets stuck in mid-air, it appeared that the assembled student body had been collectively hit by a Petrificus Totalus.
Minerva watched as Hermione's gaze widened, a deep, humiliated flush sweeping across her face as she took in the fact that everyone was watching her. Gaze dropping again to her half-empty plate, Hermione swallowed a couple of times; Minerva could see a sheen of tears rapidly well up in the younger woman's eyes.
Oh, bugger… thought Minerva, a swell of compassion filling her. But before she could do more than reach a hand out, she watched Hermione ruthlessly shove her emotions back under lock and key, a grey mask of indifference sliding over her face. Carefully, her former student placed her napkin- neatly folded, of course- back onto the table, stood, and walked out the opposite exit with far less dramatics than Severus had employed.
As the door shut behind her, the chatter of the Hall resumed, gaining momentum like an avalanche.
Minerva could feel her own expression cross into lines of clear disapproval; while Hermione should have known better than to persist in arguing with Severus- in public, no less- the idiotic man had also been a complete arse. Meeting the surprised and shocked gazes of her tablemates, Minerva noted that it appeared that they were all in agreement about that.
Before she could say anything, Minerva saw Neville's face blanch. "Oh, fuck…" the Herbology assistant swore loudly, startling those around him.
"Professor Longbottom, language!" Minerva interjected, aware that students could hear their conversation.
He had the grace to look abashed and quickly proffered an explanation. "My apologies, Minerva. It's just that I've remembered that we have a staff meeting after supper…"
"Oh… indeed," she said weakly, thinking of the fireworks that were sure to come. I'm really not sure I can watch the bloodletting that is sure to follow…
Pomona glanced at Neville, a crafty glint blooming in her eyes. "You know, we've some juvenile mandrakes that just about need re-potting…"
"Have we received the shipment of new earmuffs?" Neville inquired after a beat.
"As a matter of fact, we haven't. We'd just have to take our chances on the old, broken down ones…"
"Pity, that," Neville replied, sounding suddenly hopeful. "It would truly be a shame if we were rendered unconscious for several hours due to effects of a mandrake cry."
"As Deputy Headmistress," Minerva said, "…it is my job to remind you that all staff meetings are mandatory." She took a sip of her now-cold tea, grimacing at the bitter flavour. "However, should you require any assistance in the greenhouses today, please don't hesitate to ask."
The table went silent, each of them pondering the evening to come, as well as possible escapes.
"I think that I'll go up and brew some additional Headache Potion," Poppy murmured finally, sounding rather sick herself.
Minerva pinched her nose again; her own headache could no longer be qualified as incipient. "Be a love, Poppy, and send me down a bottle when you've finished."
The Healer nodded and gave her reassuring squeeze of the shoulder as she got up. "I'll send you two."
For all that supper was a quiet affair, it was not rendered any more palatable by the veneer of placidity.
Minerva arrived both tetchy and late to the meal, having been forced to deliver a stinging denouncement to the Gryffindor Prefects who she'd caught gossiping about the morning's incident in an empty classroom.
As she entered the Great Hall, she noted that Severus was an island upon himself; no one was seated in the chairs to either side of him. Nor, Minerva saw, was Hermione Granger present at the table. At the sound of her heels on the flagstones, Severus' gaze flicked up, but then subsided once he registered that it was her, rather than Hermione.
So, laddie… regretting what you said just yet? Minerva thought through gritted teeth. But as she watched the man pick at his food, sympathy pushed at her. For all that he could be an unmitigated arse, Severus was also a surprisingly good Headmaster- when he wasn't fighting with Hermione, that was- and she had far too many memories of him sitting alone, shunned by the staff during his horrid first year as Head. The slight hunch of his shoulders told her much about his mental state, and she recalled a certain long-ago scene outside the Gryffindor Common Room involving Severus and Lily Potter.
Well, at least the man is remarkably consistent in his inability to successfully negotiate the rocky shoals of romance… and since any hint of pity is liable to wind him up further, it seems my only recourse is hit him over the head with a blunt dose of Gryffindor advice.
Sitting down next to him with a purposeful swish of her skirt, Minerva wordlessly placed a Muffliato Charm on their little section of the High Table.
"So," she inquired as she tapped her menu to order the cream of tomato soup, "…have you apologised yet?"
Severus stiffened next to her. "I fail to see why I must be the one to apologise. She was the one shrieking like a fishwife during breakfast."
Minerva sent him an exasperated glare. "We can start with the fact that you are the Headmaster, and thus should always demonstrate the better decorum. Not to mention that you are older, and thus presumably wiser."
With an irritated snap, she placed her napkin upon her lap. "Ignoring all that, of course, I will only say that Hermione had a decent reason for 'shrieking like a fishwife.' You called her insufferable no less than three times during your little spat- please do to try to find a new adjective, by the way. I do believe that your vocabulary is expansive enough to accommodate the challenge," she said as a pointed aside, and ladled a goodly amount of herb croutons into her steaming soup.
She did not flinch as the full force of Severus' ire was transferred to her, continuing in a blithe tone. "The proposal for building a computer laboratory has been her baby for the last six months, and you didn't so much as dismiss her idea, Severus, as crush it into oblivion and Vanish the resulting ash. And for what reason? Last year you were looking into the idea of putting a computer in the library. Her idea is much the same, only on a grander scale…"
"Why? Beyond the obvious difficulties with the charms required to run such a delicate Muggle object at Hogwarts, the costs are simply prohibitive…" he began viciously, but Minerva cut him off.
"As the budget falls under my purview, I'll caution you to not try and pull that song and dance on me. It can easily accommodate such expenditure, as you are well aware. Besides which, you and I both know that Filius is practically foaming at the mouth to develop the charms work, and the resulting license fees could bring in quite the windfall."
Severus continued to sulk, and she took advantage of his silence.
"I just don't understand," she murmured in a softer voice. "Six months ago, the two of you were getting on just fine, but now you nearly shout the Castle down whenever you're within earshot of each other. What happened?"
"Nothing happened!" he spat, looking truly angry for the first time.
"Then more's the pity," she shot back. "Because she fancies you, and you clearly fancy her!"
Severus glowered at her but did not challenge the assertion right away. Well, that's progress, at least. This time last week he'd be all up in arms with the suggestion that he had a liking for our Muggle Studies Professor…
Spearing a piece of meat far harder than necessary, Severus finally hissed, "I think it very clear what Professor Granger's feelings towards me are. And even if I was foolish enough to carry some sort of amorous regard for her, I am not only her supervisor, but her former professor, and a great deal older than her. Don't try to paint the situation into something simple."
Minerva rolled her eyes. "Amorous regard? Oh, come off that load of rot. With sentiment like that, it's little wonder you've been forced to furiously sublimate these last three months." Mocking his tone, she ploughed on. "Furthermore, I can perform her evaluations, most women in the UK under the age of forty are former students of yours, and when you are eighty and she sixty, nary an eyebrow will be raised at the vast age difference between the two of you."
"It's not that simple," he repeated again through clenched teeth.
"Codswallop," she said succinctly. She shifted, however, and again gentled her tone. "Severus, don't make the same mistake as I did and assume that just because a matter of the heart is difficult, doesn't mean that it's not worth trying to work out."
Again, he said nothing to her words, but point made, Minerva began to eat her supper, relishing the rare quiet. After several more minutes of half-heartily poking at his food, Severus rose from the table.
Minerva glanced up at the tall, black-haired man who was gazing down at her, wondering if he would ever be able to move beyond his past. "There is another reason to apologise to her, of course."
"And what, Madame, would that be?"
She held his gaze steadily. "Because if you are going to threaten someone with sacking, it's best to do so in private, lest you utterly humiliate them. You very nearly made her cry in front of the entire school."
Minerva was relieved to see that he flinched a little at that last bit of information. "I need to get ready for the staff meeting," he finally mumbled, glancing away.
"You do that. And please, do try to keep the shouting to a minimum tonight. Some of us have rather bad headaches."
"That time of the month?" he responded with a sneer.
She matched his expression with a scowl. "Severus Tobias Snape, don't you dare get shirty with me. I am not above leaving you hairballs in your bed if you continue with that puerile, disrespectful nonsense." With that, Minerva sharply cancelled the Muffliato Charm, figuring that anything else that needed to be said should be heard by all.
Severus closed his eyes momentarily, regaining a touch of his normally cool composure. "Cease your meddling, Minerva, and eat your supper. You didn't have enough at breakfast to nourish a grindylow."
He flounced off, and Minerva sighed deeply. Just when I want to box him about the ears, he says something almost… nice.
Everyone was on edge as they came into the staff room. Thankfully, the first part of the meeting went off with a minimum of fuss. Hermione was not in her regular chair near the head of the table, but that did not surprise Minerva at all; instead, she was perched on one of the stools near the back, half hidden by a trailing ficus.
The problem came when it was time to discuss the most recent proposals of the various curriculum committees and school improvement panels. Not only was Hermione on the majority of the groups, she normally acted as the spokesperson for them, or at the very least, asked enough questions to stimulate a productive discussion amongst the staff members.
She didn't say a word.
And without her typical contributions- or rather, poking and prodding- any attempt at discussion fell utterly flat. They limped through the first three groups- a painful process that only seem to inflame Severus' temper further- and were moving onto the fourth panel when Minerva noticed that Hermione was not only refusing to participate but also neglecting her usual habit of record taking.
Instead, she was knitting. It was a poor job of it, but the needles did appear sharper than strictly necessary.
Alas, if there was anything that Severus abhorred, it was staff multi-tasking in meetings; like his classes, he demanded that everyone pay close attention for the entire duration or risk his considerable ire. Oh, Hermione, did this have to be the one time you resorted to juvenile tactics? Minerva mentally sighed, just as the Headmaster's attention was drawn by the flash of metal and yarn.
"Professor Granger, do you now hold yourself exempt from the usual etiquette of our meetings?
She deliberately took her time in finishing the row before glancing up. "No," Hermione replied, voice flat. "I simply know how little you value or want my opinions. Accordingly, I decided to occupy myself with something at least marginally productive." Without waiting for his response, she went back to the knitting.
The action served as the straw that broke the camel's back. Minerva saw Severus' face turn a genuinely alarming shade of puce and one of the veins on his temple begin to pulse in a manner that boded only ill. Having known the daft pillock since the age of eleven, she knew that he was mere seconds away from saying something horribly unforgivable; frantically praying that he had gotten out of the habit casting a shielding charm during staff meetings, Minerva hit him with her strongest silenco and stood, letting her magic flare about her.
In the standard order of things- that is to say, had Albus not been a secretive, conniving twat who had buggered things up beyond belief- she would have been the current Headmistress. It was a fact that Severus had readily acknowledged once the dust of the final battle had settled, offering to step aside to restore the previous hierarchy. She had declined, knowing that the only way to repair his reputation was for him to stay Headmaster. The choice had given her one unexpected perk, however- the occasional ability to successfully pull rank on him.
Letting that mantle of power settle over her, she gazed at Severus. "Enough," she intoned into the crackling quiet. I will not let you ruin this! He glared back at her but did not dare disobey the unspoken edict.
"This meeting has concluded."
No one so much as twitched a muscle until Severus gave a low snarl and made for the back exit; as soon as he had done so, Hermione rose and left from the main door.
"If," Minerva said, addressing the rest of the staff, "…I catch any of you gossiping, or otherwise speaking in a fashion that does not behove your position as fine educators in this institution, I will make you most sincerely regret it. Is that understood?"
Glowering at each person in turn- and other than Filius and Pomona, she had taught them all and was well aware of how to intimidate- she made sure that there was no mistaking the promise in her words.
"You are dismissed," she announced crisply, and remained standing in place until the majority of staff had filed out, leaving only Poppy, Pomona, Neville, and Filius gathered around the main table. With a wave of his wand, Filius put up a powerful anti-eavesdropping charm.
"So," the petite professor asked, "…is this to be a council of war?"
"Perhaps." Minerva sat gracelessly, feeling a touch shaky now that the worst of it was over.
"I think that the first thing that we need to determine is whether or not anything can be salvaged from this debacle, or if we are merely attempting to make sure the entire Castle isn't going to go up in flames when the two of them finally duke it out," Neville stated firmly.
Poppy nodded in agreement. "I can't speak for anyone else, but I do believe that there is hope… if we do a bit of creative bodgering. Mind you, I'm not normally one for meddling, but I can't see any other way to make this work. There is no question that if this continues much longer, we'll be short both a Muggle Studies Professor and Headmaster."
A general chorus of agreement met her statement.
"I still say that we stun them, strip them, and shove them into the nearest broom closet," Pomona exclaimed, thumping a hand down on the table for emphasis.
"My dear, as much as you are our acknowledged expert concerning more earthy matters, you must admit that it is more complicated than that," Minerva said dryly.
"No, it's not," the other woman countered. "This is all about sex, or the lack thereof. If the two of them got that part straightened out, the rest would follow."
"It's not a half bad notion," Poppy murmured. "Assuming we could do it in such a way that they couldn't escape, hurt each other, and were forced to actually talk things out rather than scream like petulant toddlers in need of a spanking."
"And," Filius said with a dark chuckle, "…we must do so without getting caught in the process. I can only imagine what Severus would do if he caught us conspiring against him again."
Neville took a deep breath, appearing nervous for the first time. "I concur with Pomona, and also took the liberty of speaking with George Weasley this afternoon…"
Several hours later, Hermione ghosted down one of the empty corridors on her first circuit of evening rounds. She hoped that for once, the students would be smart enough to stay either in their common rooms or not get caught out; it would be damn near intolerable to have to take a student up to the Headmaster for something discipline related.
On the plus side, she thought to herself, I can personally deliver my letter of resignation should that unlucky event occur… The thought of leaving Hogwarts- of not just abandoning her friends, but her dream position- made her feel sick, but likewise, the notion of staying and continuing this wretched dance with the Headmaster was unbearable.
She still wasn't sure how the proceedings had devolved so rapidly; her plan, inasmuch as she had one, was to steer clear of the Headmaster for several weeks until she was in better command of her emotions and wouldn't give herself away. That particular notion had been blown to shreds when Hermione had received her proposal back a fortnight later, dripping with enough red ink that it looked like it had been sent through an abattoir.
The attack on her work had been deeply personal; in addition to the scathing commentary on the proposal, Snape had also nit-picked her grammar, use of language and in a final, petty diatribe, her penmanship. It had been such a return to the Snape of her youth that she at first had been unable to do anything but stare at in shocked horror.
Three days later she had sent him an amended technology proposal, firmly rebutting his dubious claims by citing studies from American, Canadian and Dutch magical communities. Hermione had also taken the time to get the document proofed by none other than Luna Lovegood, who despite her dreamy nature was the biggest grammatical pedant she had ever meet.
It too was returned, and Hermione had decided to bite the bullet and confront Snape personally; she didn't think that he wouldn't dare be that rude in person.
She was very, very wrong.
If there was an upside to this entire fracas, it was that Snape's vile behaviour had effectively killed her feelings for him, leaving behind only anger and hurt. She didn't know why he had turned so nasty- did he really find her that repellent?- and could only assume that he had somehow discovered that she had fancied him and objected to that notion strongly.
What an absolute mess, Hermione thought with a sigh. Pity I don't have a time turner to go back and do things differently…
An odd, muffled thump from further down the dark hallway drew her attention, and she squinted, trying to make out the source of the noise. While no movement caught her eye, there was a strange oblong white box lying in the middle of the corridor. Cautiously, Hermione sent out several detection charms. When they revealed nothing amiss, she walked over.
It was a Weasley Wizarding Wheezes Patented Daydream Charm- the deluxe version, according to the packaging. 'FULFIL ALL YOUR PIRATICAL FANTASIES' the cover of the box blared in an obnoxious orange script. 'NOW WITH FORTY PERCENT MORE BATTLES!'
"Oh, bother. How on earth did this get here?" she muttered and peered behind the statue where it had apparently fallen from. Two more boxes were shoved behind the marble base, and she pulled them out, noting that they were similar items from the joke shop.
Reckoning that a student must have hidden them there, she scoured the area for other contraband. Finding nothing, she tucked the boxes under her arm and started for the staff closet where such items were stored until they were destroyed.
This close to the end of the term, the closet was positively stuffed to the gills with everything from dung bombs to love potions, and the only place to wedge the boxes in was the upper corner- well out Hermione's reach. Grimacing, she carefully started to levitate them to the open area, careful not to jar the precariously stacked shelves.
A woollen whisper was the only warning she received before a dark shape pounced.
"What are you doing here?" The low, menacing hiss and iron hand on her shoulder scared her badly enough that she yipped, concentration wildly faltering. Predictably, the floating boxes jerked upward, knocked over a row of bottles. The resulting cascade of contraband pelted Hermione for several seconds, eventually covering her feet in the accumulated evidence of student mischief.
Slowly, she turned and glared at the Headmaster, feeling a cold trickle as something soaked into her shoe.
"I was attempting to do my job," she responded through gritted teeth, determined to not lose her cool. "During my rounds, I found several boxes of Daydream Charms in the hallway and came here to secure them."
He glowered at that, apparently having no ready rejoinder. In the half-light of the hallway, Snape was a man of complete contrasts, the indigo, flowing fabric of his robes and pale alabaster perfection of skin marking him indelibly as a creature of the night. Her heart, ever a traitorous thing, began to beat at triple time. Hermione was both chagrined and furious to find that she still found him dangerously attractive.
In a failing bid to distract herself, Hermione reached down and began clean the mess surrounding her. "And just what exactly are you doing here?"
"I received a report that Peeves was attempting to break into the closet," he told her shortly, making no move to help.
The action- or rather, his lack thereof- angered her, and Hermione felt her temper begin to fray dangerously. "Well, as you can see, it wasn't Peeves, it was me." As she straightened up, she felt the crinkle of parchment in her robes and made a split second decision. Pulling the letter of resignation out, she thrust it at him belligerently. "Nevertheless, your trip isn't completely wasted."
Narrowed black eyes examined the letter in her hand, but again, he made no move forward. The air around them seemed to thicken, and it took Hermione a moment to realise that it wasn't just her imagination; a curiously heavy current of magic was filling the small space. Snape stiffened at the same time she did, ebony wand whipping out.
Then the heavy black door slammed shut, and with a flash of blue, disappeared entirely.
They both lunged forward, but it was of no use; there was nothing but a blank brick space in front of them.
"What did you do?" he bellowed, wand shooting sparks as he sent a barrage of magic towards the vanished door.
"Nothing! You're the bloody Headmaster- you should know what's going on!" Hermione froze as the air danced with visible magic, a feeling of utter dread filling her.
The acrid smell of something burning reached them, and Snape grabbed at her frantically, yanking her to his chest and throwing up a shield charm. Hermione didn't have a chance to protest; with a single, deafening pop, the world exploded into white all around them.
A/N- Muwhahaha!
My huge and heartfelt thanks for all of the favs, follows and comments over the past week; I've never had a story gain this much attention with the first posting, and it totally blew me away. Merci beaucoup, Brightki, pgoodrichboggs, worrywart, sevslave1, lena1987, irononmaiden, Rockergy, Amarenima Redwood, meg527, Nachtwens, weatherwings, Genevieve Darcy Granger, marzipan4, Blue night fairy, Karli1252, Cate Tyler, GreyBunny, Hanable-13, windyshoes as well as several guests. I cannot sat thank you enough for your words of support!
For all of you Snape fans out there, the 2016 Live Journal Snape Showcase is currently open and accepting entries. Some of the best fun I've had in this fandom has come from participating in the various LJ fests, and if you've been looking to dip your toes into writing, this is a great place to start. It's super supportive community, and entries don't have to be long- the minimum is 1000 words. There is also the option to produce art if that is your jam! The stories aren't due until 3 December, and you don't have to be a member of LJ to join. Check it out and come have fun with us!
Lemons arrive in the next chapter; I'll also be posting an update to 'A Derailed Train of Thought' sometime later today or tomorrow. And yes, a new chapter of 'Hallelujah' is likewise forthcoming!
Finally, quick reader poll... let's say there is a hypothetical situation in which one half of our favourite couple just happens to be a swashbuckling pirate and the other is forced into the role of virginal damsel in distress. Which one is Snape, and which one is Granger? Am doing some fiddling and it seems only fair that my lovely readers get to choose!
