Hey Guys! Chapter 2 is up! Forgive me for any spelling or grammar, I was rushed this chapter and I'd rather get it up now than have you all wait until next week! Enjoy!
It had now been several days into the summer; Hermione lay relaxed on her bed reading up on the subjects she had missed while chasing after Voldemort's horcruxes. She sighed gently as she turned the page of Magical Creatures and Their Habits. She had noticed she'd been having difficulty concentrating on her work as of late. The source of her distraction? Well, he was downstairs brewing potions in her basement. Her thoughts strayed to him every once in a while, she had made little progress in attempting to get him to speak with her but she had noticed his renewed obsession with potions. She peaked in on him from time to time and watched, amazed as he twirled around the room going from one simmering pot to another. The fumes were quite awful but they never seemed to disturb him. She had also noticed the man barely ate. She would wave her wand and have food appear for him but he would ignore it, continuously brewing.
She also noticed some other bad habits of his, he didn't sleep much, every since she'd brought him home he would stare out of the window at night, she hadn't seen him sleep, yet he continued his rigorous exercises without proper nutrition. She was beginning to get very worried. Dark circles formed under his eyes, as if they hadn't been dark enough already. His lips were dry and his muscles constantly twitched. She sighed again and put her book down, it was no use.
Suddenly there was a loud crash and bang from the basement. Hermione leapt up in a panic, leaving her book behind on her bed. She nearly tripped on herself rushing towards the downstairs. As she arrived down in the entry way to the basement she gasped in a cloud of black smoke.
"P-professor!" She called out, choking on the heavy fog. She continued walking in blindly until she tripped over a lump on the ground.
"Lumos!" She cried and crouched to the ground were the fog was less dense. Once she had located Severus' hand she waved her wand three times and the fog dispersed, lessened and then faded away. He was unconscious and half his face was blackened. She checked his pulse quickly, feeling a strong beat. Looking around, she spotted a small vial sitting on a shelf near the back wall. She hurried over, ignoring the way her bruised knees protested the movement. She'd have to get some carpet for the cold stone floors. Upon reaching the vial she unstoppered it and poured the lilac colored liquid down his throat. She rubbed his throat gently, coaxing the liquid down into his stomach. He gurgled once, then twice and eventually sat up quickly, coughing.
"Professor! Are you alright? What happened?" Hermione questioned unrelentingly, she rubbed his back gently without thinking. He winced slightly and pulled away from her. Embarrassed, Hermione stood up and offered him a hand, which he ignored. She felt heat rise in her cheeks and a quivering irritation in her stomach. Her eyes narrowed quickly and she set her teeth, the man didn't have to be so rude, she was just trying to help. Taking a few calm breaths while he brushed himself off, she tried again.
"Professor Snape? Is everything ok?" She asked, calmer than she had expected.
"Yes, yes, Granger, just a few improperly mixed ingredients," he mumbled irritably. He shuffled back to his desk and began cleaning up the mess the explosion had made. She wasn't satisfied and so approached him again, knowing she was pushing her luck. His small display of irritation was the most emotion he had showed all week and she wanted more.
"Are you sure you're alright, Professor? I could fetch you something if you'd like or—" He cut her off suddenly, "I'm fine Miss Granger!" His eyes were cold as they stared at her, glittering with annoyance. "If you wish to aid me further you will simply leave me be!" A little more shocked than she should have been, Hermione's eyes widened and she stepped back. He towered over her, eyes still cold and unrelenting. He seemed like he was about to add more to his rant but suddenly his mouth snapped shut and he turned abruptly away from her.
Breathing a sigh she retreating all the while hearing his quiet muttering of, "God forsaken woman, know-it-all chit always with her nose where it doesn't belong!" For some reason or another, Hermione smiled as she climbed the stairs back to the living room. Well, it wasn't a good reaction but it at least it was something. She knew he must have been embarrassed at his slip, she had noticed he'd added the ginger root to quickly to his mix, resulting in a bad chemical reaction. It was a simple mistake and could have happened to anyone, but from what she could assume about her Professor, he seemed fairly obsessive compulsive. This brought her to the conclusion that he'd been more distracted than she had thought. She remembered what Minerva had told her: not to take anything he says to heart. She knew this already from years of being his pupil, but she couldn't help the small stab to her heart as his words bruised her ego. Shrugging it off, she went to the kitchen to busy herself. She enjoyed working with her hands and though many witches and wizards had made fun of her over the years, she enjoyed cooking the old fashion muggle way. It kept her hands and mind busy.
After several hours, she had completely a lovely dinner, one she knew her Professor would not touch. She laid the food out on the kitchen table and attempted the first bite off her plate when a third rumble was heard from the basement. She rolled her eyes and decided it was about damn time he ate something. After all, he was in her care and she couldn't afford to have him stain her reputation, now could she? At least that's what she told herself. Levitating both plates, she cautiously approached the door leading to the basement and walked down quietly. She stood silently at the entrance watching him, but was having difficulty mustering up the courage to attempt conversation with the man, after all, he'd been awfully silent. Come on you idiot! You can face death itself but not a man who wont eat his dinner like a child?
"Yes, Miss Granger?" Her Professors voice startled her slightly but she recovered quickly.
"I've made some dinner, if you wa—"
"Yes, yes," he muttered quietly, he wasn't listening to her at all. She rolled her eyes once again and advanced upon him.
"Professor, your dinner." She held out the plate of steaming food in front of his nose but all he did was glance at her blankly and continue his work. She was about ready to snap at him, be damned the consequences, until her womanly sense got the better of her. He looked so thin and tired, eyes worn and hands trembling slightly. With a quick wave of her wand all his material disappeared. He turned on her slowly, eyes slit and dangerous.
She let out a breath she'd been holding in, "Professor, really, you need to eat something." He continued to stare at her venomously although, she noticed, was half hearted. And so the staring match began. It only took a couple of minutes but Hermione couldn't believe she could still lose to the man, even when he was being halfheartedly mean.
"Fine! Don't eat then, see if I care!" She growled, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. She was about to turn on her heels and leave when she heard a heavy sigh. She went to take a step when soft fingers enclosed firmly but gently around her wrist.
"You truly are insufferable, Miss Granger," He sighed with no malice. Hermione was shocked but pleased. He held her wrist a little longer than necessary, ensuring she would not leave but the extra couple of seconds made her feverish as she concentrated on his long, slender fingers touching her skin. She finally looked up at his face and flushed even harder, his eyebrow was raised at her reddening face. Hermione huffed and pulled her wrist back herself. How the man seemed to embarrass her to no end she had no idea.
Severus watched the girl huff her way around the table and instantly regretted his decision to sit and eat with her. It was evident from her response to him that she would rather not keep his company, so why she insisted on it he hadn't the faintest idea. He stared at the steak and potatoes Hermione had given him, it all smelt delicious but his stomach twisted, making him nauseous. He cut up his steak slowly, pushing the food around in his plate. He felt like a child playing with his food but he could care less, in fact, he didn't seem to care about anything anymore. He felt incredibly, horribly numb. Images of horrors and bloodshed plagued his every thought, his every dream. Sometimes in the middle of the night, he wondered if he'd be better off not living at all.
He felt old, so much older than his years. He felt tired and worn out as if he was a peace of cloth, twisted and pulled until it could take no more. Thought after thought swirled through his mind in the quiet that hung over the two as they ate.
Hermione felt uneasy sitting on other side of the potions table, she could tell he wasn't eating and for the life of her could not think of anything to say. She watched him in misery hoping to whoever was listening that he would eat something, he wouldn't last the next week in her care if he didn't. And just like that, an idea came to mind.
"Professor?" She asked tentatively. He raised his head and pained black eyes are what she saw. The expression made her heart fall into her stomach and if she could have done anything in that moment it would be to touch him, comfort him, but she knew that was unacceptable. The next second, the look had vanished and a cold impassiveness replaced it.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" He asked, voice attempting bored but passed as defensive. "I was just wondering," voice pleasant, "I saw you reading the theory of beetle tusks and peenickle string…?" She let herself trail off and waited with bated breath.
"Yes," Snape said softly, cautiously. His eyes softened and turned into question. "That is correct, I do believe those two in combination, although rare, will amount to astronomical benefits for the wizarding community." She watched him cautiously while he spoke and was amazed as he began playing more vehemently with his food.
"Well, Professor, I believe more in the alternate theory of beetle tusks and vehemoth sling. I think the combination would spike a rather interestin—" He cut her off smoothly.
"Preposterous!" He exclaimed and dug into his meat with more aggression, and much to her amazement, he began to eat. "That combination could be absolutely leathal—" This time it was Hermione's turn to cut him off.
"Ah, but only if the doses are regulated in negative amounts, if measured properly…" And so the conversation went on. Personally, she believed the same theory he did, but as she argued, Severus' plate began to empty.
She smiled slightly to herself as she watched him debate with her, his eyes sparkled when he made a point and turned into slits as he considered her own.
"Well then," she said lightly, "I believe you've won this time, Professor." She leaned off the table and picked up his empty plate along with her own. And so did I, she thought happily and perhaps a little smugly. She registered the small amount of shock on his face as she cleared the table and felt pride bubble in her chest. She felt him stare after her as she left the basement and a warm, tight ball settled in her belly.
Over the course of several more days she'd noticed a distinct change in her Professors habits, but only if she were there to trick him into doing it. She understood the hardship; the depression he was going through, having gone through some periods of it herself and also knew that distraction was the best way to cure it. What amazed her more was that on the odd occasion, he would seek her out in the living room, simply to sit and read with her company. Of course she never mentioned this to him directly but it warmed her heart whenever the rare occasion occurred. Eventually, small chatter began when trickery or distraction was not needed, and the more they talked, the more Hermione fell. And she fell hard. The man was so interesting, so intelligent and diligent. He was everything she had wanted in a partner. Ron had shown some interest in her in the past but, regretfully, she didn't feel the same way. He was fun and goofy, he was her best friend and nothing would change that.
"Miss Granger," a soft voice carried out to her in the darkness. Startled, Hermione bolted up right, she had fallen asleep with a book in her lap.
"Oh, Professor, sorry, did you need something?" At that, she could have sworn she saw him flinch, but the lighting was too dim to tell.
"It's quite late, I doubt you'd choose the," at this he sneered at the chair she had been sitting in, "comfort of this chair to your own bed?" He was right and she was a little touched he went out of his way to wake her up.
"Thanks, Professor," Hermione said with a yawn. She packed up her blanket and trudged up the stairs with Snape pulling up the rear.
"You are a witch, are you not?" He suddenly asked her, and she whipped around, a little confused. "Of course…" She said slowly, he gestured at her blanket and it suddenly dawned on her. "Yes, I could use a charm for warmth, but this… this belonged to my mother," She said gently, patting the blanket in her arms. Unexpectedly, tears sprung to her eyes at the thought of her mother.
"Goodnight, Professor," She squeaked out before locking herself in her room.
For the umpteenth time Severus wondered where in Gods name her parents were. Assuming the worst, as he always did, he assumed they had died. The strangest thing happened; he felt a small rush of pity for the girl. So consumed by his own fate, sometimes it was easy to forget the loss of others. Being muggle born he was not surprised her parents would have perished amongst the rest. Quietly, he retreated to his own bedroom, supposedly her parent's room and realized for once, how much the girl had done for him. He didn't feel grateful, he felt guilty. He wasn't used to others doing things out of their way for him, it always made him uncomfortable. And with those troubling thoughts, he attempted another sleepless night.
Hermione lay in her bed and cursed herself for her weakness, her parents were happy, they were better off without her and all the trouble the wizarding world would cause them. She stood up and walked to her full-length mirror, playing with her long, curling hair as she gazed at her reflection. Closing her eyes, she rubbed her neck gently, imagining they were his hands. She imaged his soft, pale skin against hers, his beautiful white teeth as they bit her neck playfully. Hermione shivered were she stood caught in her imagination. Her fingers moved to her lips were she touched them gently, imagining they were his lips, soft, or maybe they'd be hard? She didn't know, but one thing was for sure, she wanted to find out. Her fingers continued to travel around her collarbone, down towards her breasts were she cupped them gently, all the while imagining him close, imagining his heat and breath on her neck… Her eyes fluttered open lazily and she stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were half closed, glittering with lust, her skin was warm and pink, flushed were she had imagined his hands being. Her nightshirt opened slightly, showing one full breast as it peaked out of the material. There was no doubt in her mind she wanted him, she wanted his soul, his troubles… his body. Suddenly a stupid, crazy idea popped into her head. One she knew would most likely end in serious consequence but… be damned; she was going to seduce Severus Snape.
Once again, I do apologize for any obvious spelling or grammar; hopefully I will have more time to revise in future chapters! Please review and tell me what you think! Thanks!