Knowing Miss Granger
Chapter 3: February: Suitably Beflowerd
February 14th, evening.
"You must be joking."
"No, I'm not joking. Hold still! Honestly, you're worse than a little boy sometimes!"
"I'm not wearing it Miss Granger! Now, remove it from my person!"
She crinkled her nose and cast him a disapproving look. "Severus, listen, you agreed to go and in doing so, you agreed to the obligations involved in the undertaking! HOLD STILL!"
"FINE." Severus said, bellowing at her insolence while crossing his arms in front of his chest. He let out a solid "hrumpf!" as Hermione surveyed him with satisfaction. The robes themselves were a gift from her, a tangible birthday present she said. He could not begrudge her the fact that they were fairly dashing and styled to his liking. Made of fine silks and velvet, they were dyed the colour of port and were not without elegance. She knew his affinity for buttons as well and his attire was quite sufficiently supplied. He admired the handsome silver embroidery at the cuffs and collars; however, she was currently ruining the outfit, in his opinion, by affixing an irritatingly pink rose boutonnière to the left breast of the coat.
She gave the flower one final tweak and exclaimed, "heavens Severus! You look positively debonair."
"Oh goody. Am I suitably beflowered now?" He said, frowning down at the painfully cheery bud swimming in baby's breath.
"Yes, yes you are. You know, I don't believe I've ever seen you in anything but black....well, other than those ghastly green robes you insist on wearing to the Quidditch games. Now this," she said gesturing at his outfit, "this colour really suits you. Black has a tendency to make you appear rather washed out and menacing…these have quite the opposite effect."
"Yes, obviously I'm a horribly inept malcontent with questionable taste outside of your influence," he said, rolling his eyes and offering her an expression halfway between a sneer and a smirk.
"I can read you a little better than you think you know. The irritable Professor Snape maneuver doesn't affect me so easily anymore." She looked at him with innocent eyes…he didn't believe them for a second.
He sighed and proffered his arm to her; "Shall we now…Miss Granger?"
She returned his sigh and took his arm, "still no 'Hermione'?"
"All things in their own time."
"Yes, well, I can't really begrudge you that. Just look at the progress you've already made. Admit it, you've enjoyed the past month, having someone around every now and then."
"It has been…slightly less horrible than I would have originally surmised," he said as he led them down the corridors of the school.
Hermione placed her hand upon her chest, feigning shock. "My! High praise indeed!"
As they entered the Great Hall, Hermione gasped at the sight, "it's beautiful, Severus, it's an absolute fantasy!"
The Great Hall had been transformed into a sugarcoated wonderland. Many small tables lit by the glow of fairy lights ran the perimeter of the room. A great wooden floor occupied the space usually reserved for the house tables and several couples were already whirling in time upon it to the tinkling strains of the music that wafted through the chamber. The enchanted ceiling swirled with the rich colors of a dusky sunset, while the constellations glittered in the recesses of those heavens already blooming into night. The great, stone walls shimmered white like sugared icing. Large red and pink hearts drifted overhead lazily carried about by flocks of delicate snowy doves. Roses and Peonies seemed to engulf every surface. The blush colored glow of the stars and candlelight threw graceful shadows across the room with each dip and twirl of the dancers.
As Hermione and Severus walked towards the staff table, soft murmurs could be heard drifting through the attendees. Severus' ears perked to one particular discussion...
"Is that Professor Snape?"
"Couldn't be, he's not done up like the angel of death!"
"Besides, he's got a woman on his arm, can't be Snape!"
"That's no woman! That's Professor Granger!"
"Professor Granger?! Blimey! You don't suppose those two are…"
"…Are what? You mean shagging? Oi! Thanks for that mental image. Obliviate me later alright? Anyway, surely not, I mean, surely not! She may not be…well, exactly young anymore, but she's not bad to look at. …And Snape? Severus 'I hate everyone all the time, always,' Snape? He's cursed her. I know it. That's Imperius if I've ever seen it!"
Severus made a mental note as he passed the group of boys. Greegison, Carrowly, and ah yes, Mr. Lettingtin… Gryffindors, 5th years, Tuesdays, Double Potions: humiliate and terrify.
Severus and Hermione settled themselves into their usual seats with the other members of the teaching staff. Headmistress Minerva McGonagall pursed her lips and surveyed the pair. "Professor Snape! Miss Granger!" She'd always referred to Hermione as such, even with her accumulating years as the History of Magic Professor. It had become a term of endearment between them, not simply a name. "Miss Granger, you look lovely…and Severus, I must say, you cut a rather fine figure yourself." She raised her eyebrows at him and gave a wink.
Severus reached for the punch cup at his place, hoping against hope whomever had filled the glass also had the courtesy to spike it.
"Thank you Minerva! It was no small trial, but he does look nice doesn't he?" Hermione was admiring her handiwork as Severus gave her a sneer and took a swig of his drink. "Of course, the scowl didn't want to miss out on the fun," she said, poking at him with her impudence yet again.
"Well, I think it's wonderful you've decided to attend Severus. I never expect you at these events, it's a lovely surprise."
"I don't plan to make it habitual Minerva."
"Pay him no mind. I think you'll see that from this point on, he becomes a familiar fixture." Hermione smiled at Snape, rather absorbed in his cup or ignoring her, he didn't respond; though his face still indicated he might find swallowing a platter of sea urchins more agreeable than the evening's events. She turned from him and looked out at the crush of students and staff weaving their way across the dance floor. Though she loved dancing, she rarely joined in and something in her wondered why. "Severus, I'd love to dance if you wouldn't mind indulging me." Hermione rose from her seat and looked at him expectantly.
He sat there feeling more than a bit put upon and thought, indulge you? All I do is indulge you! This past month has been nothing more than my acquiescence to your every request! He wanted to say no. He'd rather sit there and continue to sulk and sip at his punch, unlaced as it was; it still seemed the better option.
Hermione's shoulders slumped a little as he refused to be moved. "Severus? You…you can dance can't you? If you've never learned or, oh, perhaps it's your war wounds...I never even considered that. I'm sorry, it was presumptuous of me..."
As she continued to prattle, a needling little voice began to poke at Severus.
~What's so wrong with dancing with the chit? Do you want her to think you're an arthritic old man, a bitter, ancient cripple? Or maybe you'd rather have her think you're just inept? At the very least, show her a bit of her own game. Have a little fun with the pretty girl.~
Fine, you intrusive prat, but only to prove a point...
"Miss Granger, please quit your addlepated ramblings and give me your hand."
With a look of eager surprise she placed her hand firmly in his and he swept her gracefully to the dance floor.
As the music began to play, Severus began to move, drawing his hand around Hermione's waist pulling her close. She gasped as he took her other hand in his and began to lead her around the dance floor as if it was what he was born to do. He moved with deft, deliberate steps and a fluidity she had not expected, prompting her body into languid dips and smooth, silken twirls. Her dress billowed like the blooming of a bud and his robes flowed about him as if they were wine swirling in a glass. The surrounding crowd had cleared, allowing them to paint along the surface of the floor, lithe and liquid and alive with movement.
"I had no idea! You can dance! You can really, REALLY dance!" Hermione exclaimed in delight.
"I can do a great many things of which you have no idea…Miss Granger." He said, lowering her body into a final elegant dip as the music began to fade.
A slight shiver ran up her spine as his cool breath rushed against the flushed expanse of her neck.
"…Definitely shagging her." He heard from the unmistakable maw of Mr. Lettingtin before the entire hall erupted into thunderous applause.
AN: Oh my. Well, he proved his point didn't he? I had a few questions in a couple of reviews, so I thought I'd post the answers in case anyone else was left to wonder…as I think they're excellent questions. I will do the same for any subsequent questions too if that's agreeable. :)
Fizzabella: "Hermione has been teaching at Hogwarts for 12 to 14 years? Twice the amount of time she was Severus' student?" My time frame is slightly broader than yours. I had figured Hermione's tenure between 14 and 20 years, leaning towards the later. I felt it really helped to establish her place as a professor, thus pushing the role of her as a student firmly out of the picture. Also, I feel that given her dialog and demeanor, she'd need to be at least that old and that comfortable in her position to respond to Severus the way she does.
Arabella Lee Smith: "wouldn't it be 'theorem became proof'?" I thought about this while I was writing the story and actually back and forthed a few times. The reason I ended up phrasing it like I did is because the theorem can't be established without the proof. The proof can exist though, and disprove the theorem...just as potion ingredients can exist, but if used incorrectly, the potion itself fails. Once the proof is shown to be true however, the theorem becomes fact…thereby, proof makes Theorem…leading me to "proof became theorem in the bottom of a cauldron." That may be clear as mud and totally backwards in fact. I was never any good at math. What led me to that metaphor, heaven only knows!
"What sort of variation on veriteaserum is he making, I wonder?" As far as the potion, the Latin name translates to "bend the will" which is essentially what it does. It doesn't take away choice, but it heavily influences it, sometimes with its own vocalizations, (denoted by the ~~) though sometimes it just shows up through actions…and, bless Severus, it's an argumentative little brew with a mind of its own, as later chapters will continue to prove!
Thank you all for the reviews. I will always do my best to respond to each one with a heartfelt thank you and to answer any questions!