Disclaimer: See Chapter One.
A/N: Another chapter, because I love you guys!
Chapter 7 - Temper, Temper
"Mr, Goyle! Kindly put Mr. Potter down, and for the love of Merlin stop moving so I can change your legs back. No--don't get up, a pair of eels isn't going to get you far... Honestly, do I have to stun you to get you to listen? There, Mr. Goyle, you are fine, so you can stop planning your revenge." Minerva knew she had to get these kids out of her classroom, or there would be hell to pay with Albus by the time she was through with them. "For next class I want four feet on the proper way to turn a quill into an eel, and Mr. Potter, you can also write two feet on proper wand safety technique in the classroom. Now get out!"
The terrified class needed no further encouragement. In less than a minute, the last student was out the door, and McGonagall collapsed into her chair, throwing her head into her hands and groaning disgustedly as she felt wisps of hair trailing out of her frazzled bun to tickle her nose. She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. 'Ah, silence is a treasure.'
"You do realize you made me look like the nice teacher today."
'That has just been swallowed whole by a skinny, greasy sea urchin.'
"I believe that would be Filius," she countered, head still in hands. She sighed, adding reluctantly, "Hello, Severus. I feel it is my duty to warn you that if you irritate me in any way I will turn you into the fluffiest, most adorable mini-poodle to walk the earth." She cracked open one eye and peered up at him. "And frankly, to irritate me right now all you need do is stand there and breathe."
The potions master smirked. "Then I better make myself useful." He glided behind her and began gently massaging her shoulders.
She slumped onto the desk. "Ah, darling boy, just for that I'll expend my frustration on Albus instead."
The soothing hands paused. "Dare I ask what happened?"
Minerva growled. "Your little prize ferret Slytherin made a crack about Miss Granger." She leaned back against his arms and craned her head up to look at him. "I swear, Severus, if there was any proof, anything at all to link him to Hermione..."
"Well, there is one eye-witness, but seeing as she's currently breezing through the seventies I don't see what can be done." Severus scowled darkly. "But don't think that means I don't want to rip his filthy hands off. It's a pity Albus isn't more open-minded about punishment." He carefully pulled back the wisps of hair, teasing her bun back to its normal pristine condition. Minerva smiled.
"Tell me again, where exactly did you learn to do women's hair?"
A sharp intake of breath. "Where do you think? She could never do anything with it." He moved away from her back and sat down in a nearby chair. "At first I would just brush it for her, she liked the way it felt. Then one day, after listening to her complaints about how impossible it was to get her hair to do anything, I commented that it shouldn't be a problem for someone capable of brewing potions that masters hesitate to try." He stretched his legs, ignoring Minerva's snort of "Typical male," continuing, "So, naturally, she snapped, 'Well, if it's so simple why don't you show me how it's done?' So... I did." He smirked. "I told her it was simple. Of course, after that she made me do her hair all the time: for 'the safety of the brewing process', of course."
Minerva grinned. "You do realize she probably planned that entire interaction specifically to get you to play her hairdresser?"
He lazily raised an eyebrow, commenting, "You do realize you're speaking to a Slytherin, right? We both got what we wanted."
Rolling her eyes, she asked, "And what, exactly, did you want?"
His eyes darkened. "Her."
They sat silently for several minutes, before Minerva leaned over, gently laying her hand on his arm. "She will return, Severus."
With a feral growl, he roughly pushed her hand away, responding, "You don't know that." He met her eyes, adding desperately, "It's not that simple."
She glanced away. "No," she agreed quietly, "I suppose it is not."
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Three weeks later, Hermione hurried toward their makeshift lab (she had been a bit disconcerted to realize she had seen it before; it was the room she had found herself in upon traveling to this time), feeling strangely out of sorts.
She shook her head, trying to reason herself out of her depression. If she was honest with herself, she felt more at home here than she ever had in 1997. Harry and Ron were wonderful, but there were often times when she felt them look at her like she was a creature from another planet, and it wasn't because of her gender, just her personality. Here she had Remus, who was the brother she'd never had. She knew she would do anything for him, and vice versa. Not to mention that here she also had Severus, who she had grown awfully close to in the short time since the forging of their truce.
Severus... Her mind wandered as she strode through the halls. In some ways, it was impossible to believe he and her former professor were one and the same. Both Snapes were sarcastic and abrupt, prone to solitude, but Severus's hard edges lacked the sharpness of his future self. He had a great sense of humor, and was an amazing listener.
She had never before met someone with whom she felt such a strong intellectual connection. Even Remus, as much as she loved him, did not fit her so perfectly. At times it felt like they shared one mind, bouncing ideas back and forth until they almost finished each other's sentences. She no longer associated him with her surly potions master; even when she forced her mind to make the connection it was hazy, unreal. She was here now, and in this time there was no "Bastard Professor Snape," just Severus, even if he was perfectly capable of being a bastard in his own right. Severus, with his amazing dark eyes that studied you so carefully... 'His eyes look like his voice sounds,' she thought, 'dark and smooth and deep...'
So deep in thought was she that she had walked into the lab and stood there, staring blankly at the cauldron containing their work, for several seconds before his voice snapped her back to the present.
"What earth-shattering problem or social issue has you so engrossed, Hermione?" he teased gently. "More house elves to free?"
She turned to him with a smile. "Shut up," she retorted, but the response had no bite to it. Her lips curved into an impish smile as she added, "Since you're so curious, I'll tell you that the puzzle of earth-shattering importance that I was pondering so intently was you."
He was silent for a moment, face blank, as he tried to formulate a reply. "What exactly is it about me that bothers you?" he asked finally, guardedly.
She stood next to him and gently touched his shoulder. "I didn't mean it like that!" she exclaimed. "It's just that--you're an interesting guy, Severus." She turned his head to force him to look at her. "You know, 'tall, dark, mysterious,' and all that rot."
His lips formed a hesitant smile. "Yes, I'm an enigma," he agreed sardonically.
She gave his shoulder a playful nudge. "Why don't you show anyone else this side of you, Sev? You're a great guy, and everyone thinks..." her voice trailed off as she realized her tactlessness.
"Don't stop there, I know what 'everyone' thinks," he said dryly. His lips curved into what she had come to recognize as his playful expression as he added, "As for my behavior around others, let's just say that I'm very discerning when it comes to bestowing the considerable gift of my excellent company on anyone." His face fell slightly as he finished his sentence, and she knew something had struck a nerve. He quickly added, "So, where are we with this Dream Draught? I know we added the newt's tail, but I don't remember if we got through the adder's tongue or..." his voice faded away, distracted, as he bent over the cauldron.
Recognizing the obvious hint, Hermione obediently set herself to the task at hand. They were working on a potion that, if brewed correctly, promised excellent dreams showing the dreamer's deepest desire. It was devilishly difficult, and they worked in silent concentration for several hours.
"There!" Hermione exclaimed triumphantly, setting down her spoon with a clang. "Now we need to make sure it continues to boil for another two hours." Suddenly shy, she turned timidly to Severus. "If you have other things you need to do, I'll stay and watch it," she offered.
He sneered. "As if I'm going to leave you alone in my lab." Hermione recognized this as the closest thing to an admission of his enjoyment that he was capable of giving.
They plopped themselves onto the squashy couch across the room and Hermione curled up against Severus's shoulder. Nuzzling her head in his chest, she murmured, "So sleepy..."
Severus could hardly breathe as he stared at the top of her head. He slowly reached out his hand and began, ever so gently, to stroke her frizzy curls. "Stayed up reading again, did you? Why don't you rest for a bit, then?" he suggested, hoping his voice was steady. "We have a couple hours, and I can keep watch for a while."
She tilted her head up towards him and gave him a bleary smile. "Thanks, Sev'rus," she mumbled before cuddling against him. He cautiously stretched his arm around her, and she gave a small, contented sigh. Holding her close, he ran the fingers of his other hand through her hair, marveling at the fascinating wiry texture.
He leaned back against the couch and began thinking over the last few weeks. When he'd bargained for a truce in exchange for the chance to work together, he hadn't imagined he would find such a great friend in the process. He wondered if this was what having a soulmate felt like; someone who understood you better than you did yourself, who seemed to share your mind and you didn't mind at all--in fact, he loved it! He loved that she trusted him enough to confide her problems, and he'd begun to open up to her, to his utter shock. It was nice not to have to deal with everything alone anymore, he mused. He shook his head in bemusement; friendship made him awfully syrupy.
The more time they spent together, the more he came to believe that his friends were idiots. They were fighting a war to get rid of people like this? Hermione was smarter than them! Not to say she was perfect; she knew the real him and she still wanted to spend time with him. If that wasn't a symptom of something that necessitated a trip to St. Mungo's, he didn't know what was. He stared down at the sleeping figure, bemused. He brushed an errant strand of hair from her face, and his hand shook in shock as she leaned into his touch, turning the gesture into a caress. In a whisper, he summoned a book from the table, and began to read, one hand still running through her hair. They stayed like that for two hours, until Severus reluctantly shook her, whispering, "Hermione, the potion's done."
She slowly sat up, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. "Hmmm?" she mumbled.
He couldn't help a small smile at the look of drowsy confusion on her face. "I said, sleepyhead, that the potion is ready." He teasingly tousled her hair, earning him a half-hearted glare. He snorted. "Pathetic," he commented, "That look wouldn't have frightened a six-year-old."
She unfurled herself from the couch, stretching like a cat as she ignored his commentary. He studied her intently, the way her shirt tightened across her chest as she stretched her arms behind her... Suddenly feeling very warm, he cleared his throat. Standing up, he strode over to the potion and ladled some into a test tube. "Perfect color," he commented, studying the clear purple hue.
Hermione appeared beside him. "Looks good. What's the next step?" she asked.
He consulted the book. "It needs to sit for at least two days, then we add the rest of the ingredients." They grinned triumphantly at each other. Hermione casually checked her watch, then froze as she saw the time.
"Severus! If we don't hurry, we'll miss dinner; we've been in here for five hours!"
He nodded obediently, and they both quickly packed up their things. Neither wanted their time together to end yet, so they slowly walked to the Great Hall, chatting about their potion, and discussing their classes.
They were in the middle of a joint diatribe about Divination when they entered the Great Hall. Immediately after crossing the threshold Severus came to an abrupt halt, so sudden that Hermione continued on several steps before realizing he was no longer with her. She turned around. "Severus! Are you waiting for an engraved invitation or..." Her voice trailed off and her eyes widened as she caught sight of him. 'Oh God.'
Severus was standing in the Great Hall with absolutely no clothes on. He met her eyes for a second, and she could see a plethora of emotions run through him: humiliation, defeat, anger, and finally utter betrayal. His face hardened into its customary mask and he spun around and fled the hall.
Hermione paused, at a loss. She wanted to follow him, to comfort him, but she knew he would not want her around at least until he managed to cover himself. If he let her, though, she could transfigure some school robes for him; she was reasonably sure his transfiguration skills would not be strong enough to manage a convincing facsimile, and she wasn't going to make him go all the way to the dungeons for robes when she could help! She started after him.
One locating charm later, she found him in the empty Charms classroom. She quietly stepped in. "Are you okay?"
He whirled around at the sound of her voice. She flinched; she had been right, his version of school robes still looked much more like the parchment they had just been than any sort of clothing. He noticed her staring, and his expression became, if possible, even darker. "What's wrong? Did you not get a good enough look earlier?"
Bright red, she said nervously, "I just wanted to see if you needed any help--"
"That's rich, Granger. You and your little friends can't even leave me to my humiliation? You have to come rub it in my face? Get out of here!"
She cringed, then took a small step closer. "Severus, I'm sorry--"
"What in the world makes you think I have any interest in what you feel?" He was literally trembling with rage. "You had your fun. It was a perfect plan: spend some time with the greasy git, get him to lower his guard, then the games begin." He stepped closer, seething. "I should have trusted my friends, they certainly knew what they were talking about! 'Never trust a Muggle or a Mudblood more than you would trust a dog. They can't--'"
His diatribe was preempted by her fist crashing into his jaw. He staggered backward, his hand reaching up to his face in shock. He stared at her angrily, reaching for his wand, only to hear "Petrificus Totalus!" and find himself flying to the ground. The next thing he knew was the sound of her voice in his ear.
"You utter jackass. How dare you! Before you begin spouting that sort of propaganda you should understand what it means. How dare you speak of trust--you, who would just assume, after all the time we've spent together, that I would do something like this. I thought you were better than that, Severus, I really did. If my heritage is such a cross for you to bear, then I assure you, I will make sure you never need deal with me again." He wished her voice would return to her previous hard, angry tones, because he didn't think he could stand listening to her choke on her tears knowing he had caused them.
She flicked her wand, and he found himself able to move. "Get up," she spat, and he obeyed soundlessly. He winced as she aimed her wand at him, relaxing as she altered his transfigured robes into something much closer to actual clothing. With a forbidding expression on her face, she turned and headed for the door. Without looking back, she commented, "I am sure my presence is an affront to your senses, so I will be going. I have a Maraudian homocide to care of, anyway. If you ever realize what a bastard you have been... well, you know where to find me, but be aware that I will be inclined to hex first and ask questions later.
She slammed the door, and headed toward Gryffindor Tower. 'If Remus was in on this, I'm going to kill him.'
A/N: Two chapters in one night! I think that deserves a review!
