Heart Shaped Box, Nirvana

After a week, Hermione stopped pestering Snape to go up to lunch with the staff. School would be officially starting the next day so she gave up and decided to make her peace with the fact that he would never be willingly social. It pleased her to no end, however, that he no longer tried to insist that she go up and eat with them either. He still snapped at her over ridiculously small things, still growled most of his answers and still looked at her in that patronizing way if an idea she had wasn't what he considered "what I expect from a witch of your intellect." But that meant that he expected a great deal from her. And that in itself was a great compliment coming from him. She had started figuring out how to translate what he said.

"Do I look like I need a snack?" spoken with one raven eyebrow raised and the oo in look extended far longer than necessary meant, "Pumpkin juice and a sandwich, please!"

"Miss Granger, this might just manage to pass for decent work," with both brows up and emphasis on the 'might' meant, "Why Hermione, you did a wonderful job on this."

"Your hair looks slightly less heinous than normal today, Miss Granger," as his eyes widened slightly and his nostrils flared meant "You are looking rather lovely today, Hermione."

"Do not ever touch my quills again," said with a scowl meant, "Do not ever touch my quills again." He was still Snape, after all.

But they had fallen into a curious kind of piece. He was still himself, but he was more...well, more.

The more time they spent together the more she discovered about him. There was so much that he had kept hidden from the world out of necessity. Getting him to talk about any of it was like pulling teeth, but that meant Hermione was perfect for the job. Her parents were dentists, after all. The more they talked the more she appreciated his dry sense of humor. They understood each other in a way that neither of them had ever expected. She could even make him laugh. When his guard was down, one very well placed, very dry joke could make him throw his head back in laughter. It was such a wonderful thing to see. If the first year students saw him like this, they wouldn't be quite so frightened of the Professor. Which was probably why he made sure to never let them see it.

Hermione had plenty of time to watch him as they worked together. Out in the hallways or the courtyard, he stooped, shoulders bent in a look that reminded her vaguely of a bat. But with her, in the comfort of his class room, he started to stand a little straighter. She'd never noticed how tall he was, or how broad his shoulders. The loose robes left any actual physical outline to the imagination, but watching him heave huge cauldrons around led her to believe that he wasn't a scrawny man by any means.

She wondered idly once or twice if she had a crush on him. She respected him immensely, she trusted him implicitly, she admired him more than any living man. He was funny, intelligent, and unintentionally chivalrous in his own way. He wasn't exactly a handsome man, but then, Ron hadn't been vying for any cover shots either. Severus had a kind of dark charm. If it wasn't for the sallowness of his skin, the dark rings under his eyes, she might say he fell under the striking category. Not someone you would glance at and call good-looking, but a face that would hold your attention. To her it had become familiar, comforting. In a prickly brusk sort of way. Of course, it was hard to entertain romantic thoughts about a man who looked like he hadn't washed his hair any time this century, but Hermione had her own theories about that, ones she intended to test out sometime soon.

So did she have a crush on him?

Maybe. A schoolgirl crush? Hardly. She hadn't been an innocent school girl to idolize a teacher in a long time. And except for that unearthly ridiculous fancy she had for Lockheart, she didn't see herself as the kind of woman to throw her heart toward the nearest authority figure in her life. Was it a fantasy built around the amazing and selfless things he'd done for the Order and the entire wizarding world? Possibly. He was a wonderful man, whether he wanted to admit it or not. But Harry was a wonderful man too and she certainly didn't have any romantic feelings for Harry.

It was possible that she just liked him for him. Exactly as he was. Coarse, sarcastic, sometimes belligerent. The good along with the bad. She understood him, and that went a long way to realizing what sort of man he was. And the more she got to know of that man, the more she liked.

Of course, he would never see her as anything more than a brainy ex student.

Right?

That night, Severus checked the hall outside his rooms, and then unlocked the door. He was distracted and he hated being distracted. He was unsettled and he hated being unsettled. And it was all because of that damned Hermione Granger. She was drawing him out when he didn't want to be drawn out! He had just gotten his life back in order and she was throwing it into chaos. He craved her insight on things. He respected her opinion. And no matter how many times he repeated his mantra of 'she's young enough to be your daughter, Sev,' he couldn't help but appreciate her beauty. He never had been one to fall for physical beauty. But she was funny- damnit she was funny- and intelligent and every so often he found his eyes drawn to the heave of her chest as she got impassioned about some idea or another. To the long line of her legs as she moved her robes out of the way to sit down. It was impossible not to notice her as a woman.

He rubbed his eyes tiredly and tossed his robes over the chair. A wave of his wand turned on the muggle CD player beside his bed. No one knew his perchance for muggle music- and he intended to keep it that way. The song that came on was Heart Shaped Box, a song by a strangely good muggle band that seemed to fit his situation perfectly. With a sigh, he ran his hands through his hair and paced. He needed to get a grip on himself. Just because she was being nice to him did not give him free rein to covet her. She was a beautiful woman just coming into the prime of her life. He was older yes, but more importantly he was weary. Weary of life.

And none of the rest of that mattered because she would never, ever look at him the way he looked at her. Sure she said she admired the things he had done, and she trusted him. But he would always be her snarky ex potions teacher to her.

Right?

He pulled off his black t shirt and had the first two buttons of his slacks undone when he heard screaming in the hall. He froze. That voice- it was Hermione!

All of his adult life, Severus had lived my one cardinal rule when it came to emergency situations. No matter what was going on, no matter how bad it got, he always took a moment to analyze. Just that split second to figure out what was going on and what the best course of action was. In his line of work it had saved his life- and the lives of others- many times. It was what allowed him to switch seemingly seamlessly between roles as he'd played double agent. He never got caught off guard. Even in the midst of chaos, those around him only saw what he wanted them to see.

For the first time in over a decade, Snape did not take stock of the situation before he reacted.