A/N- Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews. I was overwhelmed with the response in the alerts and favourite sections too!
So here is the bane of my existence, Chapter 2. I will never be happy with this but thanks to my wonderful volunteer betas goldiechik and worrywart I am confident enough to let you read it.
PLEASE READ- *As a great deal of this chapter is Snape's point of view it seemed crazy to put all thoughts in either italics or ''. I tried it, it seemed wrong. So throughout this chapter the only thoughts which will be italicised will be those which take place in or around actual dialogue.
* There is no smut in this chapter
*My Snape is a little more approachable/ softer than I would like (I like my Snape's hard ;-D) purely because although this story will be a decent length( like Snape ;-D) it is not going to be an epic beast(unlike Snape ;-D) and I really want to get to the good stuff soon.
Once again thank you goldiechik and worrywart so, so much! Xx Any mistakes are my own as a result of ignoring good advice.
This is my first attempt at fanfiction ever…this is my first attempt at creative writing in about 8 years too. So please be gentle.
NOT FOR YOUNG UNS'- THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT (THE NICE KIND NOT THE ICK KIND)
DISCLAIMER- I DO NOT OWN ANY OF HARRY POTTER…NOT HIS TOE, HIS LEFT EAR, NADA. I ALSO DO NOT OWN SNAPE OR ALAN RICKMAN DESPITE THAT BEING MY ULTIMATE GOAL IN LIFE. I MAKE NO MONEY FROM THIS, IT IS PURELY FOR MY OWN (AND HOPEFULLY SOME OTHER PEOPLE'S ENTERTAINMENT. JKR IS THE GOD OF THE POTTERVERSE AND I AM A HUMBLE FAN HAVING A BIT OF FUN.
x~x
Dear Gods, the last three months have positively dragged by. Say what you want about the Dark Lord but at least he kept things interesting, Professor Severus Snape thought as he sat in the Great Hall of Hogwarts experiencing the same scene he was forced to endure every morning. One would expect that I would positively thrive on boredom and peace after spending the vast majority of my adult life as a spy, carrying out the orders of two opposing commanders. That, however, is most certainly not the case. For now I have nothing to distract me from the bleak outlook that is my future; a future where nothing ever changes or improves, a future where I will be as miserable and alone as I am now. I am faced with the same disapproving colleagues year after year, only communicating with me when absolutely necessary. Murdering their precious, infallible Dumbledore and then spending a year as the most vicious and evil headmaster ever known has quite possibly affected my popularity, he ruminated. Forced to endure dining with those aforementioned loathsome colleagues, every meal of every day, where again, I am only spoken to out of necessity. The same mind-numbingly simple potions to teach the obstreperous little fools known as students. Despite the student body changing each year, the overall impression they leave is the same as every year group who has come before them.
Despite my distaste for teaching in a more general capacity, there are usually one or two students who seem worthy of imparting some of my knowledge and experience on. Those students are ordinarily quiet, polite, and intelligent individuals who have shown inspired thinking over the years. Sadly, teenagers like this are a rare commodity indeed and I have not been aware of any such student for several years. Hermione Granger has the necessary intellect and has shown inspired thinking over the years but never in potions. She also, sadly, finds it extremely difficult to know when to stop talking. I did once enjoy a discussion with her concerning Defence Against the Dark Arts. She was of the opinion that the course should contain knowledge of antidotes to some of the more dangerous potions. For a few minutes during one of her many long-winded points I did consider how she was perhaps worthy of my time; possibly assisting her in improving her potions skills would be less painful than I had previously considered. Then I remembered that she was the Gryffindor Princess, one-third of the infamous Golden Trio and although I did begin to enjoy discussing the issue of dark potions with her, she began waffling on about bloody Potter. That is when I made the decision to actively avoid her at all costs. She was a typical Gryffindor, worrying loyally about her perfidious little friend and bravely attempting to discuss it with me, a man who detested the person in question.
I was not surprised when she returned to Hogwarts after the war. Another year for Miss Granger to indulge her lust for academia. One final year that will allow her to hide behind her books before being forced to become better acquainted with the outside world. Minerva would have a hissy fit if she heard me say that Miss Granger the Gryffindor War Hero is not well acquainted with the outside world he thought maliciously. I must keep that in mind the next time I feel like baiting McGonagall. Obviously Miss Granger has witnessed horrors no person should ever have to see, let alone before they have reached adulthood, however her experience of the outside world is not typical. There will be no horcrux-hunting or bloody battles following her graduation, only the horrors of society. Miss Granger will struggle to find her place outside of an academic setting; her books keep people at arms-length whether this is actually her intention or not. With regards to using textbooks as a barrier or shield, I cannot criticise as I was the same before my unfortunate foray into darkness. Constantly seeking knowledge and finding solace only in books and cleverness.
No, there was nobody in the whole blasted castle worthy of his valuable expertise, Snape thought bitterly. Hermione Granger was the best of a bad bunch. He looked up from his porridge and found his dark eyes landing on the student currently occupying his thoughts. He had to admit, he did enjoy seeing her so lost without the rest of her little crew. His lip curled in triumph as he reminded himself that Harry Potter had in fact left school and was never coming back. He observed her intently, drumming his fingers methodically on the table-top. He watched as she stared at her own porridge, stirring it continuously. Pity she failed to keep her stirs in potions so calm and well-paced he scoffed. Suddenly she stopped and began stirring in the opposite direction. Strange, he mused, has Miss Granger developed some kind of obsessive-compulsive disorder? When she did the same again he began to count the stirs. Interesting, eight stirs clockwise, six stirs anti-clockwise. The same stirs required for tomorrow's brewing session.
He recalled an incident last week where he commented on her desperate need to be first in everything causing her to stir her potion like an old woman making fudge. She had glared up at him and gritted her teeth as a blush crept up her cheeks; he had smirked sardonically in response, thinking he had succeeded in embarrassing her.
"Do not be disheartened Miss Granger, it seems you have found your calling." He continued sarcastically. "Shall I provide a letter of recommendation for you? I must say that Honeydukes are not to whom I usually direct such letters to, however I am sure it will improve your chances." He offered with mock pride as his eyes glittered spitefully.
He had been slightly shocked when she had returned to her potion, seemingly unaffected and paid him no mind.
"Perhaps you did not hear my kind offer Miss. Granger?" he had asked with faux innocence.
She had looked up at him with a spectacular smile on her face, "Oh I do apologise Sir, I was concentrating on my work. Yes, a letter of recommendation would be appreciated. Could you leave the recipients space blank please? I have so many options and other letters of recommendation that I will have to see if I can fit yours in somewhere," she murmured distractedly as she tucked an unruly curl behind her ear and returned to her work.
That moment last week had been a triumph. He decided to not even address her blatant sarcasm and disrespect because he had enjoyed her retort so much. Yes, she was certainly the most interesting sparring partner of all the students. If he was honest, she was more of a challenge to rile up than any staff members. Gods how depressing had his life become if his most interesting encounters were with a Know-It-All Gryffindor who set his teeth on edge? His only remotely interesting companion was one whose company he detested.
So she was working on her potions stirring during breakfast, he thought as he watched her small hand grip the spoon gently. The evil side of Snape couldn't help but delight in her lack of natural ability driving her to obvious distraction. On the other hand, the teacher in him couldn't help but be pleased with her. Pleased that she cared enough about his class to worry, pleased that she obviously cared what he thought and took his criticism on board. He was most pleased with the fact that she seemed to have ditched her beloved books and was attempting to solve this problem practically.
He watched as she dropped her spoon back in the bowl with a sigh and got up to leave. Oh dear, does Hogwarts golden girl have issues he thought cruelly as he noticed how despondent she seemed. He sobered as he considered that she might have some kind of eating disorder and that he was obligated to care. It was something Severus had experienced in his youth; his mother had struggled with low self-esteem and went through phases of refusing to eat. It was truly horrifying to watch a person waste away by their own hand; he decided rather selfishly, that he refused to witness such horror again. He got up and swept out of the hall, scanning the area for a head of bushy hair. As he walked up the first floor stairs whilst brushing his knuckles along the banister, he found her, tucked away to the side, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed.
"Miss Granger!" he barked
She jumped and opened her eyes but seemed to relax when she spotted him. Curious, most students are relaxed until they notice my presence not the other way round, he thought.
"Yes, Sir?" she queried from her hiding place in the shadows. He crooked his finger at her and beckoned her to him silently, his grim expression leaving no doubt that disobedience was not an option.
As she began to move towards him, he took the opportunity to study her closely. She did not appear unwell; her skin was a healthy colour, her legs looked slim but shapely and she filled her uniform well. Granted she was slim but she did not appear to have lost much weight since the beginning of term; a little perhaps, but not enough to warrant concern.
"Yes Sir?" she asked politely but with a degree of wariness attached.
"Miss Granger, please do not get any insane notion of kindness from what I am about to discuss with you. I could not care less if you chose to never eat or drink again and waste away in your blasted tower," he drawled lazily and without a flicker of concern on his face. "As a teacher it is my… responsibility," he began with disgust, "to consider students welfare and ensure they do not drop dead. So let us pretend we are both invested in your well-being and investigate why you deemed it unnecessary to eat this morning?
Gods, he was such a bastard. It must be so tiring constantly being disgusted yet seemingly uninterested in everything and everyone around him, she thought.
Gods, she was such a stubborn little shit. She did not even bat an eyelid whereas most students would be cowering in fear or bursting into tears by now, he thought.
He raised an eyebrow hoping it would motivate her to answer his question so he could finally just be alone. She just raised one of her delicate eyebrows right back at him and seemed to ponder her options.
"Well, well, well," he smirked. "Looks like you have forgotten the sole purpose of your miserable life. Remember? No? Then let me refresh your memory. I believe it is to always answer and ask as many questions as physically possible without keeling over from lack of oxygen," he explained to her condescendingly.
"Well true to form then, Sir, may I ask you a couple of questions before I give you my answer?" She paused extremely briefly before continuing with a gracious smile. "Yes? Excellent. What did you have for breakfast this morning, Sir?" She stared at him inquisitively.
He could tell she was slightly dangerous this morning. She seemed reckless, weary and angry. Not a good combination for any Gryffindor to feel when dealing with the Head of Slytherin House, particularly those with a temper like Miss Granger had been known to have.
"Porridge but I hardly see-" he began to glare menacingly at her.
"Forgive the interruption, Sir, but I feel it would be best if we wrap this up before one of us runs out of oxygen," she whispered in mock concern and with a very serious look of worry on her face. "Why did you select porridge, Sir?"
"Because," he began dangerously whilst grinding his teeth, "some ignorant little do-gooder managed to convince the house-elves that they required a leisure period, once a week." He paused and she opened her mouth to interrupt. "Which means, " he cut her off by raising his hand in front of her face and continuing to talk, "that breakfast this morning was prepared by a staff member and we were therefore limited to either toast or porridge."
"How come you didn't have toast?" she asked genuinely interested.
"Not that it is any of your business Miss Granger but once my toast has turned the same colour as my robes I find it inedible." He suppressed a shiver as he remembered the blackened bread which had crunched at the slightest touch.
"I usually have toast," she offered before continuing longingly, "but I cannot eat toast that is any darker than that perfect golden shade, covered in lovely melted butter..."she trailed off and then snapped back to reality. " Sorry Sir, I'm a bit hungry." She bit her lip and blushed furiously.
"Yes well try not to devour your lip," he mocked. As tempting as it looks, he thought. Where the hell did that come from Snape? You need a willing woman…or some toast, quickly.
"How poetic of you, the Gryffindor Princess will only eat golden toast? Shall we all run around collecting foodstuffs in your house colours so you get the attention you so desperately crave?" he spat out nastily, trying to recover from the shock he felt at his disgusting thoughts about her pouty lower lip.
"No…I'm just saying. Anyway…Sir," the 'sir' was sneered with mock-politeness, "I usually have toast but for the same reason as yourself I found that this was not an option. Who was responsible for breakfast this morning anyway?" she asked as she absent-mindedly twirled a curl around her index finger.
"I believe it was Professor Trelawney." He stated professionally even though he wanted to ask how she could not tell by the ridiculous amount of herbs and spices in the porridge; it tasted like one of Trelawney's bloody incense sticks.
"Eugh! Well, that explains why the porridge tasted as bad as her classroom smells…minus the sherry of course," she muttered as she stared out of the window. "You think she would foresee that bread once heated will toast until blackened and be perfectly able to remove said toast before it catches fire," she snorted.
Hermione Granger just amused me, twice. What the hell is going on? Do not show any sign of amusement, it would be entirely unprofessional and…just far too nice.
"Miss Granger?" he attempted to sound disgusted as he brought her back from her reverie but was disappointed to hear a hint of mirth in his tone.
"Hmm," she murmured absentmindedly before snapping her attention away from the window and back to her Professor, "Sorry Sir, where was I…oh yes. The toast was inedible so I choose the porridge, which was marginally better, but still awful. Considering I don't particularly care for porridge even when cooked to perfection, it was a struggle to eat," she rattled off only pausing to draw breath. "Anyway Sir, I seriously doubt you ate much breakfast this morning unless you have the ability to switch your taste buds off so…I believe I was originally attempting to highlight that my not eating is nothing to be concerned with, whether only out of a sense of duty to the school or not, and that tomorrow I will not have the same issue." She finally finished with a smile which was not unkind.
There is certainly something going on with Miss Granger, he thought as he watched her warily. She has always been partial to lengthy unnecessary dialogue however; she does not usually say the first thing that pops in to her head. Her answers are usually much more measured and well thought out than that verbal diarrhoea I was just exposed to about our comparable breakfast habits. I cannot subject myself to her company any longer; perhaps I will point out to McGonagall that Miss Granger is having trouble functioning normally. Well normal has always been a bit of a push for her he thought with a smile, but there is most definitely something amiss.
"Good, now that Porridge-gate is over perhaps you could kindly stop talking so I can hear myself think and take yourself away from the general vicinity of my person, far away, Miss Granger." He said rubbing his forehead, signalling an oncoming headache.
"Yes Sir," she said quietly so as not to aggravate him further. He watched her walk briskly away from him as she shrugged her bag over her shoulder and only relaxed when she was out of sight and more-importantly ear-range.
That girl is insufferable. Her intelligence and academic ambition are unrivalled here at Hogwarts. He began to walk the corridors, heading as far away as possible from the great hall and the unbearable noise escaping from its open doors. She is so frustrating; every time I consider giving her some assistance with her potions skills she exasperates me beyond belief, and I decide I cannot stand the sight of her. At times she can be so quiet and dignified, her responses can be measured and calculated with shocking cunning worthy of the most consummate Slytherin; but what use is any of that when she will not stop befriending dunderheads or suddenly talking at a rate which would make a Quick –Quotes Quill implode! Bloody Gryffindors, why are they always so annoying? Can they ever just slow down. Impassioned speeches, sharing everything, holding nothing back; I suppose their infamous bravery will not allow them the treachery of privacy.
'Complete disclosure' Lily used to call it. Lily was the same as Miss Granger in this respect. Actually no that is not accurate; Lily was worse. She too, would speak quickly when she was stressed or distracted, but that was nothing compared to when she was upset or angry. I could never stick around long enough to find out what calmed her down. Despite the fact that I was utterly enraptured by her, her incessant chattering when she was in one of those moods was just too much to handle. However, she would calm down, my headache would pass and we would wander the grounds discussing anything and everything at a normal pace. She could be so rational and gentle sometimes, like she selected the superior qualities from a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff, respectively, rather than being the stereotypical Gryffindor she ultimately was. Miss Granger was similar to Lily in many ways, both the good and the bad aspects of Lily's personality. Lily would be pleased to know Harry had a friend to mother him and show him the kindness he grew up without, that was comforting. Severus, personally, did not care about Potter's welfare in the slightest; the boy was a slight improvement on his cruel father but was still an insolent little shit when he was Hogwarts. The fact that he had a decent friend and role model in Miss Granger only released Severus even further from the sense of duty he felt towards protecting Lily's only child.
Sometimes, Severus thought, sometimes, I seriously consider myself unlucky to have survived this war. I did not expect to, nor was I prepared to live. The peace I had felt as I slipped into death was cruelly snatched away from me. That brief feeling of serenity was the most settled and content I had ever felt. Voldemort did such a thorough job even the pain was short-lived. I mean nobody could have…should have lived through having their throat sliced by the most powerful dark wizard who ever lived and then being attacked by his giant venomous pet snake. Nobody except me, or perhaps The-Boy-Who-Never-Gave-It-Up-And-Died he thought with a snort. No I had most certainly died, he conceded, but bloody Albus and his bloody meddling just had to get involved. Even in the Afterlife he could not resist controlling me. He controlled almost every aspect of my life and decided that he would control my death, or as it turned out my almost-death.
Once the pain stopped and I was able to see and hear I was not surprised to find myself faced with Albus, who with the classic sentimentality of a Gryffindor, saw fit to launch into a heart-warming speech about how proud he was of me. About how I had truly repented for any of the misdeeds of my youth, was how he put it, I believe. The misdeeds of my youth? I did not spray-paint a neighbour's car, I pledged allegiance to a monster and carried out horrific acts. I caused the death of the only true friend I have ever known and for those reasons I was most surprised to find myself not burning in the fiery pits of hell. That was certainly my first instinct, however once Albus started spouting all his usual nonsense about the power of love I considered that perhaps I was in hell. That certainly made sense. I was being punished for my heinous behaviour by having to spend an eternity listening to the man drone on and on about the greater ruddy good. All we need now, I had thought, is for Potter, either one would suffice as a hellish companion, or even worse both Potters, Black and Lupin to appear and I would be nicely set up for an existence of sheer misery. That, however, was thankfully not the case. I remember hearing footsteps and groaning anxiously wondering who I was to suffer now. When Lily swept into view I remember being suddenly sure I was in hell, for the guilt I had carried my whole life was painfully compounded into one instant gut wrenching reaction when I saw her. She was here to punish me for letting her down so grievously.
"Remind me never to fall out with you again," she said with a smirk. "I know I hurt your feelings when I refused to be friends with somebody who called me a Mudblood but there was no need to have me killed, Severus." I don't quite remember my comeback and I certainly could not recreate it even with the memory but what I can tell you is that it was the strangest noise ever made by man or beast.
"Severus, I am joking," she said in a kind voice crouching down to where he still lay on the floor. "You must realise by now that the prophecy was indeed about Harry? I am almost positive that Voldemort would have conveniently removed me from Harry's life at some point. You did not know at the time who it involved, I do not see it as a personal attack." She stood back up, "Well, are you just going to lie there all day? I do have other people to concern myself with right now, there is a battle going on," she huffed with a flick of her hair.
"Lily…I…how can I…-" he attempted.
"Oh for goodness sake Severus, spit it out. You never had a problem listening to the sound of your own voice before why would you now?" she interrupted trying to stifle a smile.
He slowly stood, noticing that for the first time in years he felt truly healthy. There was no pain or weariness, the only pain he was experiencing was emotional. "Lily, I am sorry," he began to pace before her whilst running his fingers repeatedly through his hair. "There is no excuse for my behaviour, I was a foolish young man at the time, and I only hope that it will offer you some comfort to know that had I been aware of the effect my behaviour would have on you and your own I would never have…"
"Save it Severus; I know of the wrongs you have committed but I also know of all the good you have done. I was a bad friend to you and I am sorry for that. I should have forgiven you, perhaps if I had…" she trailed off. "What you have done in my memory…all you have done for Harry, well, I find myself in a very forgiving mood." She smiled reassuringly.
He looked at her, shocked that she could forgive him for all the harm he had caused. He began to wonder why she was with him and where he actually was. He seemed to be in a grand hall but everything was tinged with soft lighting and warmth, there were no objects only himself, Lily and…well Dumbledore had slinked off so only himself and Lily remained.
"Where am I?" he asked uncomfortable with not having the answers for once.
"Hmm, I suppose you could call this a place of limbo... or the entrance to the Afterlife? Not quite sure. I do know why you are here but I am needed elsewhere, I am being called," she said sadly.
"Will I see you when you return? I have so much I need to say to you-"
"Severus, we have said all that needs to be said, I need to watch over Harry now, I am sure Dumbledore will be along to assist you but-"
"Harry? Is he…alive?" he gulped nervously.
"Yes he is, you're not that lucky Severus. Getting a second chance at life and bumping off your most hated student in one day." She laughed and looked at him fondly but then the light in her eyes diminished. "You could have been kinder to him…I know you were putting on an act but…I wish he had grown up knowing the real you… the one I was lucky enough to call a friend."
"That person does not exist anymore; only the man I have become remains, sadly," he quirked with a sad but genuine smile.
"I do not believe that to be true. He is just…lost. You have a chance to find him. Embrace life Severus, you are finally free. Do not turn away those who care for you or whose company you enjoy no matter how difficult you find socialising. Oh and I'd steer clear of derogatory remarks if you do manage to make some friends along the way."
"I do not make friends," he ground out; gods she was still a pain in the arse.
"Or…what shall we say then…acquaintances?"
He nodded curtly at her. "Thank you for your forgiveness; I do not deserve such a kindness."
She merely rolled her eyes and laughed as she turned and walked slowly but determinedly away from him.
His meeting with Lily had surprised him, he reminisced as he made his way along the corridor that led to his office. He had not expected forgiveness or kindness. He was also surprised to note that he did not feel the same around her as he had done in his youth. Whether or not that was because he had wronged her and felt he could not possibly be so bold as to be in love with her or he had grown out of his adoration he would never know. All he knew was that now when he thought of her it was with the fondness one thinks of family or friends. He did not feel the same undying devotion; he did not believe that his love for her would never allow him to love another. His sparkling personality and dislike of people would never allow him to love another, not any kind of loyalty to a dead woman. He unwarded his office door and once again considered that perhaps things would have been better if he had remained in that strange limbo-like place; everything here was brighter, louder and more painful. That place had been so calm and peaceful; the closest thing on earth to it that he had experienced was Hogwarts during the summer holidays or his favourite journal section in the bookstore of Hogsmeade. Alas, it was not to be. After Lily had left him Dumbledore had returned and offered him a bloody sweet. He had refused him as he always did in life but then Dumbledore the sneaky old bastard that he was had goaded him;
"Oh Severus my boy, if you cannot enjoy a little confectionery now that you are dead and cannot rot your teeth, you will find this place most unsatisfactory." He had joked, holding out his bag of sherbet bloody lemons.
"Sherbet Lemons…howoriginal Headmaster." Severus had sneered as he grudgingly plucked a sweet from the bag.
"Severus, I have always thought that a little sweetness in your life would do wonders for your temper, bare that in mind until we meet again my boy," he had said with a wink.
"Where are you going?" I had asked as I tossed the infernal sweet in my mouth. It was not even enjoyable, it was as bitter as sucking a real lemon.
"Oh I am not going far. It is you who has one more journey to make. Please try to enjoy it Severus," he said sadly.
"Hmmm what now, another mission for your loyal spy? Where will this journey take me?" I asked bitterly; the man was still infuriating, and I had never forgiven him for asking me to kill him.
"I cannot answer that dear boy, none of us ever know where the journey of life takes us. Just try to enjoy the ride." He had twinkled obstinately at me and waved.
Everything had faded to black and when I awoke, I was lying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. My robes were torn and bloody but no injuries remained. I had slowly stumbled through the tunnel and by the time I arrived back in Hogwarts the battle was over. The-Boy-Who-Lived-Despite-My-Wishes had survived, Voldemort was gone, Albus was gone and I had never felt more lost.
Severus shook his head as if hoping to shake off the memory of his resurrection and walked towards his desk. Yes, nothing much had changed, only now I have no purpose, he thought. Life was not the ride Dumbledore believed it to be. Cheers Albus, a miserable stretch of boredom ahead of me before I find peace again. His headache had persisted despite putting as much distance between himself and Miss Granger as possible. Probably hunger he thought with a snort. Ironic, worrying about a student's eating habits and the outcome of their health whilst not even considering my own. He tore off his outer robes and rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, threw himself into his chair and groaned placing a hand over his eyes as he flung his head back. Why do I assign so much homework? He thought as he leaned forward, prepared to mark a stack of essays. He was surprised to notice an item on his desk, which had no reason to be there, it was one of the kitchens trays with a cover over it.
"Artie!" he barked
"Yes Sir?" a slightly less excitable than normal house-elf asked as it appeared with a pop.
"What is this? Where did it come from and why? My wards were untouched which means you delivered it, who prepared this tray?"
"Forgive me Master, I prepared it. The Bossy One made me do it!"
"The Bossy One?" Snape sneered in confusion, feeling satisfied as Artie began shuffling nervously from foot to foot.
"The Bossy One, Sir. She always tells us house-elves what to do, tells us to ask for time off and sick pennies? She is not very good at knitting and is a silly girl, but she is kind and has good heart, Artie knows it; the late and great Dobby the Free Elf, told us Sir!"
Oh good god what was I thinking. Bloody Granger, bloody Gryffindor…probably thinks I am going to braid her disastrous frizz and listen to her talk about boys now. Why did I show any interest?
"That will be all Artie." He said suddenly feeling exhausted.
"Yes Master, should Artie punish himself?"
"No Artie you did nothing wrong, leave the punishment to me." He smirked evilly
"Yes Sir…sorry Sir…oh poor silly Bossy One…I warned her…" he muttered nervously before disappearing with a pop.
Let's see what the silly little Know-It -All has provided, probably some fancy foreign breakfast food or bleeding muggle Pop Tarts. Why must she insist on showing off? She can never just keep things simple he thought bitterly as he reached for the tray.
But Severus Snape was pleasantly surprised when he lifted the cover only to find toast cooked to perfection with lovely melting butter under a very complex stasis and toasting charm. There was a note beside the plate,
Sir,
I apologise that it comes in Gryffindor gold, however unless you have dramatically changed the colour scheme of your wardrobe since this morning I would imagine you will find it edible.
H.G
Although he was incredulous that she felt it appropriate to provide him with breakfast and leave such an overly familiar note he could not help but be amused. As he breathed in the delicious scent he found himself feeling reluctantly glad that Hermione Granger was such an interfering little madam.
A/N- I don't want to beg for reviews but this is one chapter I would really appreciate them for. I am very keen to hear any constructive feedback (I like the nice stuff best :-D)
Next Chapter- Hermione faces the consequences of teasing Professor Snape and why does she stay behind after class? An agreement is reached between Hermione and her Professor.
