Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…
Summary: "And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own.
Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on. A Matter of Need Chapter Four
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Hermione banged into his classroom, nearly knocking the door off its hinges. She swept past Snape, ignoring him, and dumped her bag on the desk before ripping it open and pulling out her books and parchment. She put them on the table with more force than necessary and dropped her bag on the floor then kicked it under the bench out of the way.
"Bad day, Miss Granger?"
She snorted and continued to pull her ingredients out of the cupboard. She whipped around to take them back to her desk and bumped into Snape. He plucked the vials and bottles out of her hand and placed each one carefully on the desk.
"What are you doing?"
"Stopping you from blowing us up. I am not letting you brew a complex and dangerous potion whilst your concentration is clearly elsewhere."
"But-" She sighed and let her arms hang limply at her sides. "Sorry."
She dropped down on one of the stools. Snape eyed her before starting to place the ingredients and equipment back where they belonged.
"I can't believe him!" she burst out eventually. Snape turned to look at her but she continued as if she was oblivious to his presence. "He could have said it was over, he could have talked to me, but no… I had to find out like that. If he had just said something instead of me finding him there with that slut practically having sex in the corridor. All the times he could have just came to me and talked things over… then we wouldn't be in this mess…"
"Who was it?"
"What?"
"The other woman?"
She couldn't help but look at him sharply, surprise mingled with disbelief, but she replied, "Sally-Ann Perks. A Hufflepuff in my year."
"Well, that must be exciting for our Mr Weasley," Snape said sarcastically.
"It's just- Wait? How did you know?"
"That you are – were – attached to Weasley? I have eyes, Miss Granger, ears, and an unfortunately unavoidable position in the staff meetings. Teachers gossip too," he said, traces of disgust in his voice. He closed the cupboard door and turned to face her. "McGonagall is blind where you and your friends are concerned, and sees fit to bore the rest of us with mindless babble about how absolutely brilliant you all are."
"Yet you must have been listening to know about us," Hermione countered.
"It's hard not to," Snape said dryly.
Hermione sighed and folded her arms on the table and rested her head on them. "I'm doomed to live a long and lonely life," came her muffled voice. Snape snorted. "Oh, I am sorry sir. That was rather tactless of me," she added acerbically.
Snape was caught off guard by her snipe at his personal life. What personal life? came that annoying voice from the back of his mind.
"Have you ever though that some of the boys in this school just can't handle you?"
Hermione looked up at him with bleary eyes. "What?"
"The position of intellectual supremacy is not an easy thing for the male ego to compete with. Perhaps you are just… too smart for them."
Hermione blinked. "Great."
"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Miss Granger."
"I forgot, that's your thing, isn't it?"
Snape frowned. "Follow me."
Uh oh. "Why?" she asked suspiciously.
He shot her his patented 'look' and she scrambled to follow. She wasn't going to make his temper worse than it already was. He led her through his office and into... his private quarters.
"Sir?"
"Sit."
His tone left no room for argument so she perched on one of the large chairs at the side of the fire. She was curious, of course, but it felt wrong to look around at what was his. His private place.
Instead, she watched him by the stove, preparing two mugs of steaming liquid. He opened a tin and pulled out a dark blue slab. He placed one of the mugs down on the coffee table in front of her and next to it laid down what turned out to be Honeydukes' finest dark chocolate. After retrieving his own mug he took the chair opposite.
"I don't want to sound rude but… why?"
"Whilst it is one thing to have the brightest student in the school on the warpath after her ex-boyfriend, it is another to let her do so when she is fuelled by rampant hormones," he said blandly. "I'm confident you could come up with some… inventive curses by now, and I'm not entirely sure that Madam Pomfrey would want to cure him if she knew what he had done."
"Since when have you wanted to protect a Weasley?"
"I would love nothing better than you to blow those idiots to smithereens but there is a small matter of your conscience. Plus the paperwork's terrible."
Hermione snorted into her drink and laughed. Snape eyed her warily and took a sip of his drink, stunned by her reaction.
"Are you okay?"
"What? Not used to making people laugh?" she replied eventually.
"Surprisingly, no."
Hermione grinned at him and brought her mug to her lips. As she swallowed the liquid she recognised an unfamiliar taste in the coffee.
"What have you put in it?"
"Specialised pain reliever. I've been told that menstrual cramps are horrible," he added with a faint smirk.
"You- But- I'm not sure whether to hex you or thank you," she said weakly.
"Both, probably, but I'd rather you thank me."
"And the chocolate?"
"Simply the best feel-good food in the known world. Apparently."
"Then you don't eat enough of it," she said grumpily.
"With all the lemon drops the Headmaster plies me with, I have no room for it."
Hermione found herself laughing again, not helped by the comical look of his bland expression. She hiccupped and the coffee splashed over the side of her cup and into her lap. She jumped up, somehow managing to keep the obscenities silent, and pulled her wet clothes away from her body.
"I- I think I'd better go."
Snape nodded and stood up. He couldn't help but watch as she unfastened her robes and began to slip them off. He determinedly studied the rug on the floor, but Hermione had seen him.
He moved over to the door and held it open for her and she passed, careful not to let her robes drip on him.
"Thank you, sir. Goodnight."
She began to walk down the corridor that led to the stairs but froze when she heard a voice call back.
"Goodnight, Miss Granger."
And then he was gone.
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Snape departed from the corridor in unusual haste, trying desperately to get the images out of his mind. He shook his head, not that it worked, and grimaced into the night. He was so absorbed in thoughts that he was trying not to think about that he nearly ran into someone stood at the window.
"What do you think you are doing, walking around the school at this time of night?" he snapped.
Slowly, the person turned so he could see her upset expression, eyes distant and melancholy.
"Miss Granger."
"Professor."
"So, what are you doing?"
"Thinking of the most painful way to nail Ron's balls to a post. Not necessarily whilst he's attached," she replied blandly.
Snape was caught off guard by her frankness and, for a moment, was rendered speechless. Wrong, he though, not a flame of anguish, but female vindictiveness. God help Weasley. Or not.
"What has he done now?" Why the hell am I asking this? Merlin! I need to get back to my quarters before I get seen.
He began to walk and Hermione joined him, staring ahead in contemplation. She opened her mouth, froze, then shot Snape a sceptical sideways glance.
"Why do you ask? I mean, you don't really want to know, do you?"
"I must be tired. It would appear that my mouth spoke without engaging with my brain first," he said flatly.
"Thanks." They carried on walking, down the stairs, round a corner. "You know he won't talk to me now. He is such a child at times."
"Wonderful."
"Well you asked!"
"I didn't mean it."
Hermione glowered at him and they carried on walking, down the main staircase, down into the dungeons. "Well let him try to shag everything in the school, I don't care."
"It appears you do."
"You aren't making my fuming any easier," she said darkly.
"If it makes you feel any better, I just found Weasley and that other girl with their tonsils down each others' throats," he said, "and deducted fifty points."
"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" she asked incredulously.
"Well, it makes me feel better. I also gave them both detention with Filch."
"Why thank you," she drawled sarcastically.
Snape paused to take down the wards and unlocked the door. He glanced at Hermione, frowned, pushed the door open and stepped inside.
"Are you coming in or not? Or will I have to listen to more teenage angst and stories of a broken heart?"
"I'm sorry if you are the only person I can talk to," she murmured as she slipped in and closed the door.
"Really?"
"What?"
"The only one you can talk to."
She could feel the blush rising in her cheeks. "They're all so busy now, with everything. There's not enough time to talk that much," she said, her voice returning to the bossy tones of yesteryear.
"Why do you defend them?"
"They're my friends."
"And yet here you are."
"Well, Harry has so much on his plate right now, and he's spending time with Ginny. And it seems you know what Ron's doing," she added, and began to pace the room in front of the large bookshelf that lined a whole wall. Hermione could feel him stood close behind her, and continued without looking at him, "I'd feel stupid going to Dumbledore and McGonagall is so busy too. Besides, it's not like I've got much to talk about."
"You seem to be talking an awful lot now," he muttered.
"Yeah well… I'm just scared," she whispered. She was waiting for taunting, a caustic comment at least, but none came. She rotated so her back was no longer directed to Snape. "We are in a war. I know that I'm probably going to die and that my parents are targets. My best friend is the only thing standing between us and destruction, and we don't seem to be doing anything about it." She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed heavily. "Tell me something good. Tell me its all going to be okay."
"You already know the truth," he replied softly. He could see the desperation for comfort in her eyes, begging him for some reassurance.
"Then lie to me," she pleaded in a voice barely audible.
"We are definitely going to win the war. No one will be killed apart from the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. All those on the side of evil who survive will be sent to Azkaban and receive the punishment they deserve. We will all rejoice, together, then go on to live long full and happy lives."
Hermione looked away and shook her head, biting her bottom lip.
"It's not fair."
"No, it's not. One thing I do know, though," he said, coming closer and lifting her chin so she met his eyes, "is that you are a brave, intelligent young woman. Dumbledore has protection spells around your parents' house and work place. Despite what it may look like, the Order is working, but it is such a difficult and large operation and we cannot rush into any confrontations."
"But what if my parents aren't at home or work? And how long do we have before we have an inevitable confrontation? And how can you call me brave?" she added in a quieter voice.
"Bravery is courage in the face of adversity, is being in a situation, seeing the possibilities, and doing something even though the outcome may not be good for you to benefit someone else. Don't look away," he said and, once again, lifted her chin. She shied away so he held her there and said, "You have a right to be scared and you should be, but all you need to concentrate on now is continuing with your studies, keeping out of trouble and letting us do our jobs. Okay?"
She nodded. His hand remained cupping her cheek. She stepped forward, merely out of impulse rather than rational thought.
"No," he said, but only half-heartedly. "We can't."
"Why not?"
"It wouldn't be right." He noted the lack of enthusiasm in his voice.
That was when he felt it. The spark. The jolt that ran through his body, the shock that surged through his skin.
She was the one.
Rendered speechless, he froze.
She pressed closer still. Now he could feel her body on his, closer, warmth, delicious scent, intoxicating.
Then, he didn't know how, he was kissing her and she was kissing back. Hair tangled in hands, hands roaming bodies.
Hermione groaned into the kiss, a kiss like never before. Hungry, passionate, fierce. She felt herself being backed up against the wall, the cool stone a stark contrast to his warm body. A small part of her brain was processing what was going on, a small part telling her this was wrong, but being overpowered by the part that was enjoying it.
Snape pulled back but didn't relinquish his hold around her. Her cheeks were red but her eyes danced with an intense flame, the most alive they had looked in a long time.
"I-"
She didn't know what to say. Didn't want to say anything.
Snape continued to look at her. What had he done? He was a professor at the school, and he had just taken advantage of that position. He stepped back and his arms fell to his side. He shook his head; no words would come out.
The Oracle said he would know, but that didn't matter. He had just kissed a student. Kissing students is wrong. Very wrong. Yet, according to the Oracle, right. He ran a hand through his hair. Why were the fates playing with him?
He glanced at Hermione, the person that was to love him and be loved in return. She looked petrified but he couldn't find any words to speak. Then her eyes became focused on a point over his shoulder and her jaw almost dropped.
Snape followed her gaze into the fire. The fire in which Dumbledore's head was floating.
"I think now would be a good time to see you in my office."
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Sorry if the formatting is a bit wonky – I have to go and finish off college work, instead of faffing about… Thanks for reading and reviewing! See you next Wednesday. :)