A/N: Well, shucks. I just noticed a rather annoying mistake in this. Ah well, it's not detrimental to the story, so I'm going to leave it be. Perhaps I'll overhaul this someday and remedy the fact.
I think I finally have a good idea of where I want this to go, and perhaps even have either a possible sequel or another story that could stand on its own in mind.
Again, sorry for the wait, but I hope you enjoy! This is a series of setting changes.
XOX
Severus Snape was not a fool.
There was no way he was going to let this teenager get to him. It was with this in mind that he decided he would absolutely not talk to her this evening. He even went as far as asking Filch to oversee the detention for him claiming a stack of ungraded papers as his reason.
And yet, in a small, locked away part of his mind, he was sincerely disappointed in the prospect of not being able to verbally spar with her again.
Hermione sat at dinner feeling very awkward after the kiss gone wrong with Ron. While she still didn't and couldn't like him more than a friend, she was terrified of losing his friendship. What was worse, being the worrisome person she was, she was afraid of a strain on her relationship with Harry as well. The only comfort for her was knowing she had Ginny's support.
Conversation tiptoed around Quidditch and minor class assignments. Ron sat determinedly next to Harry, avoiding Hermione at all costs. Harry tried to mend the broken bridges by asking questions to the both of them, but Ron would only answer in one or two word sentences. Ginny was frustrated at her brother and tried kicking him under the table, but that only resulted in getting Ron mad at her and leaving the table mumbling under his breath.
Hermione sighed and excused herself from Harry and Ginny saying she had to go finish a paper before heading off to her second detention. She hurried off in hopes that nobody saw the look of desperation and loss in her eyes.
Harry and Ginny exchanged exasperated looks, sighed, and went back to their dinner and lighter conversation that included winks and flirtation.
XOX
Hermione made her way to the dungeons fully prepared for whatever lay ahead of her. She was not going to offer any information and answer with the barest of replies. Then, following this detention, she was going to put it all behind her and try to forget ever even considering him to be anything more than a sarcastic professor.
Taking a deep breath, she knocked sharply on the dungeon door three times. After an exceptionally long minute the door creaked open to reveal a slimy Filch instead of Snape.
Quickly trying to conceal her surprise, she said, "Good evening, Mr. Filch. I'm here for a detention with Professor Snape."
Filch chuckled maliciously under his breath. "Well, girl, he's passed the detention off to me." Hermione tried not to let her face drop at hearing this, no matter how strong her resolve had been. "No more cauldron scrubbing for you; no, you'll be cleaning out the Owlery without magic.
Hermione recoiled at the very idea and begrudgingly followed Filch up towards the other end of the castle.
XOX
The Potions Master watched her face closely during her interaction with the caretaker. The look on her face . . . was it due to not spending detention with him, or to the task she had at hand? It was surely the latter . . .
Snape sat down at his desk to grade the stack of papers he really did have and found that he could not concentrate. Bushy hair continually popped into his mind's eye and the confident voice of a young woman played over and over again like a broken record. "Yes, I've always defended you" . . . "forgiveness and mercy" . . . "How could you not?" He decided a short walk to the teacher's lounge might clear his mind a bit.
The walk was a rather short one relative to the size of the castle. He met no one on his way and for that he was thankful. He entered the teacher's lounge to find only Minerva McGonagall sitting on one of the comfier lounge chairs reading a book. He raised his eyebrow and commented, "No papers to grade, Minerva?"
She looked up from what she was reading and replied, "Surprisingly, none at the time. Currently all of my classes are working on very long term projects with minor assignments in between that can be graded by a self-grading quill." She smiled. "It's actually rather nice. I can catch up on my romance novels."
Snape gave a repulsive look at the thought of Minerva reading romance novels. "Surely you aren't serious. Do you mean to tell me you read those two knut slutty romance 'novels'?"
Professor McGonagall looked insulted at the statement. "Severus, I do not read any of the slutty kind. There are some very deep, thought provoking stories out there that have elements of romance that I find to be very endearing."
The man snorted. "Meaning you 'aww' and cry over them."
"Does it matter?" Minerva smiled mischievously. "You know, Severus, perhaps one of these books would do you some good. It could bring out your sensitive side. Who knows, you might even feel compelled to find a nice, intelligent witch out there." She let the sentence hang inconclusively.
After pushing the sudden image of Granger from his mind, he sent a look at the Transfiguration professor that stated quite obviously that he was not looking for a witch and would most certainly not read any of her books. However, Severus Snape was just not as quick as Minerva McGonagall. She always could read him like a book, even in school.
"Or, perhaps, Severus, you already have a young witch in mind." Snape jerked at the emphasis she placed on "young." He met her gaze and found those same darn stars twinkling in her eyes that were ever present in Dumbledore's. That woman had to be taking lessons, both in eye twinkling and omniscience.
XOX
With the common room empty for the night, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley enjoyed a peaceful late night snog free of homework (or Hermione's nagging for that matter) hovering over their heads. So engrossed in each other, they didn't notice the redhead at the top of the stairs look on wistfully before going to bed to ponder about what he wanted and could not have, or the brunette who came in very late with the same forlorn look and thoughts etched on her face.
