CHAPTER FOUR
By some incomprehensible stroke of luck, Hermione made it through the rest of the school week, including Friday's Potions class, without earning another detention. Feeling a bit wrong-footed by her unusual good fortune, she lingered in the dungeon classroom for several minutes after they had been dismissed, expecting Snape to suddenly regain his senses and rectify his error. She suspected that he had begun to rethink his tactics after her confrontation the other night, but she refused, even after the previous evening's startling introspection, to verbally admit that she didn't actually want him to.
"Is there a problem, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, having watched the girl's exaggeratedly slow movements from behind his dark curtain of hair.
She turned to face him and shook her head, a pink hue creeping across her cheeks, discernible even in the dreary lamp-light. "No, sir."
He studied the witch for a moment, idly wondering what was causing her apparent discomfort, before endeavoring to get rid of her. "Might I suggest, then, that you quicken your pace? Surely, your presence is missed somewhere within the castle — the library, perhaps."
The heat on her face flared as Hermione slipped her book sack over her shoulder and dropped her gaze to the floor, feeling like an utter fool. "Yes, sir."
The wizard smirked as he watched her head for the door. "Oh, and, Miss Granger?" he called in a silky, almost taunting voice. "I'll need your disciplinary card back sometime this term."
Without daring to respond, the Head Girl rushed out of the Potions laboratory, her mind so preoccupied with what his parting words implied that she nearly trampled the group of fourth-years loitering in the hallway, waiting for permission, or perhaps courage, to enter the classroom. She didn't slow down until she was safely ensconced in the Gryffindor common room, where she decided that she was now quite glad she wouldn't be returning to the dungeons that evening.
After dinner, Hermione decided to spend a portion of her detention-free hours visiting with her Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. She was keenly aware that she had been spending the majority of her time lately with the adult residents of Hogwarts rather than with her friends, but she shoved that particular thought to the back of her mind. She was in desperate need of some mature advice on her current predicament and she knew Remus would be just the person to give it to her.
In the intermingling years since that fateful, Dementor-riddled ride aboard the Hogwarts express, she had discovered that the last remaining Marauder had a highly developed ability to read people — having to constantly decipher whether or not you were likely to be persecuted for afflictions beyond your control tend to do that to a person. Luckily for them, that same insight had proved immensely helpful to the Order. Where Snape had infiltrated the Death Eaters to weaken Voldemort's defense from the inside, Lupin had sought out allies from amongst the unlikeliest sources to bolster the Order's offense. In the end, the war would not have been won without either of their efforts.
Presently, Hermione hoped that he'd be able to put his keen and penetrating mind to the task of reading between the lines of Snape's cryptic playbook. She hurried to the third floor, and when she found the classroom dark and empty, proceeded to Remus' office and knocked on the door that led to his private study. Normally, students weren't allowed within a teacher's living quarters, for obvious reasons — as well acquainted as she had become with Professor McGonagall over the years, the Head Girl still didn't know where the older woman's rooms even were — but Remus Lupin fell into a different category. While he was both her teacher and an authority figure within the castle, he was also a dear friend, and though, she had never considered the former werewolf the father figure that Harry now did, she had come to think of him as somewhat of a confidante.
When her first knock went unanswered, she rapped on the wood a little harder, hoping that he wasn't out for the night. Remus had been dating Nymphadora Tonks for nearly a year, and Hermione knew that the Auror didn't like spending time at the castle for fear of causing undermining rumors amongst the students. Thankfully, after her second knock, the door opened and the slightly crumpled wizard smiled warmly at her.
"Good evening, Hermione."
She easily returned his smile. "Hi. Are you busy? I was hoping to have a little chat."
He opened the door widely and beckoned her through. "Come on in. I was just trying to catch up on some of my grading."
"Maybe you should start assigning detentions," she suggested with an impish grin as she followed him into the study.
Remus chuckled and crossed the fire-lit room to the tea service on his desk. "Would you care for some tea?" he asked, refilling his own mug.
Hermione sat down on the familiar sofa, tucking one leg under her, and nodded. "That sounds heavenly."
With a wink, he poured a second cup and joined her on the couch. "So how has your week been?"
Holding the mug up to her lips, she considered the question for a moment, enjoying the spicy, floral aroma of the Darjeeling blend. "Interesting," she finally admitted before taking a sip.
He didn't seem surprised. "Really? How so?"
Hermione shook her head. She wasn't quite sure how to explain. "The issue with Professor Snape has… taken a rather odd turn." That was surely the understatement of the year.
The man chuckled. "Has it? And what has Severus done now?"
Taking his opening for what it was, she quickly recounted the past few incidents that had left her perplexed, describing in detail the exchanges she had kept secret from her friends. For Remus' part, he listened attentively, interrupting only to summon the tea pot and refill their mugs or to clarify something she had said, and by the end of her account, he appeared highly amused.
She sat back and sipped her tea again, watching him mull over the information, but after a few minutes without a response, suspense got the better of her. "So what do you make of it?"
"Well, it's hard to say, really," he said slowly, staring at the crackling logs in the fire. "Severus is a rather... unique man." Hermione snorted, and he smiled at her. "But I do have a few suspicions."
She set her mug on the coffee table and leaned towards him, clearly intrigued. "Such as?"
Remus followed suit and put his teacup down beside hers, his expression unusually guarded. "First, let me ask you, Hermione, what's your opinion of him, given the present circumstances?"
She swallowed somewhat nervously. "Well, I respect him a great deal, you know, even though he's been such a git. He risked a lot for our side during the war, after all, and he's a rather brilliant Potions Master."
The wizard's hazel eyes glittered with amusement at her dispassionate reply. He had long since suspected that there was something more to her feelings than just run-of-the-mill respect. No woman of her intelligence would be so thoroughly rattled by Snape's obviously ill-founded taunts without there being deeper-rooted emotions at play. "I agree," he replied. "But that's not the type of opinion I was referring to."
The girl's cheeks flushed slightly and she suddenly became engrossed in the state of her cuticles. When she didn't respond, he smiled fondly at her bowed head. "Come now, Hermione. We're both adults here. You're of age and will be finishing school in a few months. And I'd like to hope that, by now, you know you can trust me with anything."
She looked up and met his gaze. "I know I can, Remus. It's just a hard question to answer. I don't really know how I feel." She took a deep breath. "I started out the year respecting him like I do all my teachers. Then, of course, I loathed him for picking on me the way that he has."
Another chuckle. "Of course. And what about now?"
"Now?" The witch sighed in annoyance, mainly with herself. "Now I'm nothing short of hopelessly fascinated by him."
"Fascinated?" Remus asked with a bemused, lopsided grin.
She nodded. "Everything about him intrigues me, not just his recent behavior. I enjoy his sarcastic wit, his self-assuredness, his unquestionable intelligence. I find myself utterly, and at times, regrettably, mesmerized by his very presence."
"You fancy him," he clarified, not at all surprised by the girl's confession.
Hermione hid her now scarlet cheeks behind her hands and nodded again. She did, Gods help her. She fancied the greasy bat.
Lupin's grin took on a smug, almost wolfish quality, reminiscent of his days as Moony. "I suspected as much."
She dropped her hands and stared at the wizard. "Suspected? How could you? I've barely just figured it out for myself."
"Yes, but the people involved are usually the last to know," he replied, taking up his tea cup again. "To an overly curious bystander, though, it was quite obvious that you've developed a, shall we say, fondness for Severus, despite your rather adamant claims that he infuriates you."
"That's just it! He does infuriate me, beyond belief, and I revel in every bloody minute of it! I've never had anyone challenge me the way he does." She sighed dramatically and threw her head into her lap. "Oh, Gods, this is so ridiculous! Not only is he twenty years older than me, but he's been my teacher since I was eleven, for Merlin's sake!"
He smirked at the younger Gryffindor's uncharacteristic theatrics. "You've seemed to have forgotten the fact that he's a brooding, mean-spirited bastard most of the time, too," he teased, trying to alleviate her embarrassment. The distressed lines on her forehead did fade as a small grin stole across her features and before long, they were both laughing.
Trying to catch her breath and organize her thoughts, Hermione retrieved her own tea and held the cup up to her face, breathing in the calming steam again as she stared into the fire. "Am I losing it, Remus? Is this the craziest thing you've ever heard?"
"Far from it, I'm afraid," he said with a gentle sigh. "Granted, it's a little out there, considering whom we're talking about, but I think I can understand it."
She turned to him with a curious expression and knew that she'd never fully appreciated the man's friendship more than she did at that moment. "Really? Because I can't."
He chuckled and sat his now empty mug down again. "Despite all of Severus' many faults, and believe me, there are many — probably more than either of us will ever know about — he's a good man deep down. And aside from your obvious differences, I think that the two of you could actually make a good match. I can't even begin to comprehend the things you could accomplish together, brilliant as you both are."
The Muggle-born's resulting smile had an underlying sadness to it like a smile one might give after hearing a joke during a loved one's eulogy. "Sweet of you to say, really, but all for naught, don't you think? It's not as if he'd ever regard my affection with anything other than disdain, and quite possibly, ridicule." She sighed and drained the remnants of her tea, wishing it were some sort of miracle, ego-boosting, heart-numbing potion instead. Then again, if it were a potion, he would've been the one to brew it, and she'd never request such a thing from him. She sighed again, annoyed with her own circular, nonsensical musings.
"Actually, I believe you're mistaken on that point," Remus replied. "In fact, I'm almost positive that it's quite the opposite that's been causing his peculiar behavior as of late."
Hermione's brow furrowed. "Meaning what, exactly?" She was too mentally exhausted to interpret that last bit on her own.
"Meaning, I've been keeping a close eye on him since our last discussion and you'd be surprised by the number of times I've noticed him watching you."
"Really?" she asked, her voice rising an octave on its own accord. "Watching how? Like he was plotting his next move or... or what? Was he sneering?"
Remus patted the near-hysterical girl on the arm. This whole thing was really starting to take its toll on her. "Calm down, love. He's just been watching you, intently, but not really in an obvious way. I can't be sure, of course, but if I had to guess, I'd say that Severus had developed an interest in you that's not strictly academic. And if that's the case, then I'm sure that he doesn't have the slightest clue how to deal with those types of feelings either."
"So he's torturing me into insanity?" she asked incredulously, unable to comprehend the possibility that the Slytherin of her recent, obsessive thoughts might return her interest.
The former werewolf couldn't help but laugh at the witch's expression, a rather colorful blend of surprise and indignation with a sprinkle of longing mixed in for good measure. "You have to see his point of view in all this, Hermione. If he has, in fact, formed an attraction to you, then it must be practically unbearable for him." He raised his hand to stifle her defensive retort. "You're his student, first and foremost, and Severus is a proud man, not like that fool Lockhart who bedded nearly every witch above the age of consent during his short tenure here. I'd imagine that he finds his fondness for you bordering on immoral. You're a brilliant, beautiful young woman, which I'm sure makes him feel that he could never deserve you. He's an ex-Death Eater, after all, and more than a bit emotionally stunted." Remus sighed regretfully, knowing that he and his friends probably had a great deal to do with both of those things. "Top all that off with the daily reminder that you're best friends with his arch enemy's son... Well, surely you can see how this might be hard for him."
Hermione looked away, staring into the fire for a minute as she tried to process her friend's words. There certainly was a ring of truth to them. If it were possible for Snape to fancy her in that way, then those were most likely the type of mental hurdles he'd be facing. They made her own look far less imposing in comparison. "You'd make a good psychiatrist, Remus."
He raised his brow in question, obviously having no clue what a "psychiatrist" was, and she shook her head. "Never mind, I just meant that I'd nearly forgotten how perceptive you can be. I can definitely see your point."
"It's a complex situation, and like I said before, Severus is a complicated man."
"So what am I supposed to do? I don't think I can continue playing this game with him all year, but I can hardly confront him about such a thing. If you're off the mark, I'll end up with proper detentions for the rest of term, probably with Filch."
Remus chuckled again. "That's a strong possibility, which is why it's hard to say, really, what you should do. I think the proper thing would be to wait until you're officially no longer his student, but at the rate you two are going, I doubt if either of you'd make it to June alive."
A slow, vindictive grin spread across the Head Girl's face. "Correction: He wouldn't make it to June alive, and I'd miss graduation because I'd be sent to Azkaban on murder charges. Of course, if a single member of the Wizengamot was ever a student of his, I'd get off scot-free." They laughed, each knowing that both those statements were undoubtedly true.
"In the end," the Defense professor surmised as he stood, collecting their mugs and Scourgifing them with a flick of his wand, "you have to have this conversation with Severus."
Hermione sighed and extracted herself from the sofa. "I was afraid you'd say that."
After he had walked the distracted witch out and bade her good night, Remus found it all but impossible to resume the grading he had been doing before her visit. With a sigh, he gave up trying and settled into the sofa cushions, watching the slowly-dying embers in the hearth as he contemplated exactly what he had just set in motion.
A relationship, only recently foreseeable, forming between a Gryffindor student barely of age and a Slytherin teacher nearly two decades her senior was certainly unorthodox, but it wasn't unthinkable, especially not in the magical realm where people generally lived into their hundred and fifties. Considering the Muggle-born's level of maturity, it was hardly surprising that she be attracted to an older wizard. Had it been Harry who started swooning over, say, Rolanda Hooch, Remus would've been the first to talk the boy out of it, and for more reasons than the fact that Hooch was a devout lesbian. But Hermione needed a partner who could operate on the same level as she, and that wasn't going to be found in any of the current seventh-years.
No, age wouldn't be the main catalyst for the epic controversy that the healed lycanthrope knew was coming. It'd undoubtedly be the fact that curly-haired witch was one of the highly revered members of the Golden Trio while Snape, though a prized member of the Order, was still publicly reviled as a Dark wizard. Most of the wizarding world, and sadly, the majority of his personal acquaintances, would view such a union as a tragic loss of one of their brightest and most promising stars.
Remus snorted. He knew that the fiery little Head Girl would be livid with this assumption and he didn't blame her. Like he had told her, he truly believed that Severus was a good man and he had more than enough collaborating evidence to that end. The cantankerous wizard had saved his life many times over, even though he had hated him since childhood, and it was high time that the favor was returned. If that meant encouraging Hermione's affections in the face of the drama that it would inevitably cause, then so be it. It wouldn't be the first time he had caused a scandal at the school.