Happy Easter Day, everyone. LL x
Severus had avoided her.
Or left her until last.
He grimaced against the thought. No. He wasn't interested in the insufferable Gryffindor, despite the fact that the rest of the school clearly was.
Flitwick still droned on.
Severus' eyes rose slowly and fell on the Granger girl. She was no longer looking at high table. Her glazed expression was now fixed on the middle distance beyond the Ravenclaws, her arms crossed before her.
Of everyone here, hers would be the most fascinating, the most detailed mind to delve into. He knew that.
Perhaps just a little glimpse ...
Severus' face twitched and an overwhelming curiosity filled him. He tried to swallow it back. He'd had no hesitation in reading the others' thoughts, why was he prevaricating over this one?
He couldn't.
He had to.
It seemed rather that he couldn't not. And so, not taking his eyes from the intelligent face of the young witch, Severus entered her thoughts.
... According to Flamel's book the hex only works on those of a noble heart, meaning that would render the counter-curse ineffective. 'Principles of Sorcery' has a case dating back to the 13th Century – will look it up later. Must check ready for the lesson. Should have time after this.
Severus sneered and contemplated withdrawing from her mind. How predictably pretentious and dry she was.
But then her thoughts shifted.
Potions tomorrow. Nearly the last. Wolfsbane. Better bloody get it right this time. Couldn't bear it if I cocked it up again.
Severus tensed. The girl's thoughts grew more vivid – the setting was familiar. She was imagining herself in his dungeon. A scene was playing out in her mind and Severus was seeing through her eyes.
She was standing at the back of the classroom, stirring the potion in her cauldron. Glancing up, her Potions Master was walking around, pointing disparaging fingers into the cauldrons of her fellow students. Then he turned and started his slow walk towards her.
Severus was watching flinched. In Granger's mind, he was sure to criticise her. Perhaps she would answer back, hurl abuse at him. After all, it was her fantasy; she could imagine what she wanted. He was not sure he wanted to stay to listen, but the scene was too compelling to abandon.
Snape walked up to Hermione's cauldron and peered in. He sniffed and picked up a spoon to stir the contents.
"Consistency is good. Colour appropriate. A satisfactory job, Miss Granger."
At High Table, Severus raised an eyebrow in surprise at his measured response.
Hermione was smiling broadly and a glow of feeling passed into him; she was clearly delighted with his compliment. "Thank you, Professor. I've been working very hard to get it right and reading up on alternative methods of preparation."
"Clearly your hard work has paid off."
Severus sneered. He couldn't imagine speaking to her like this in real life, but in her fantasy his voice somehow seemed right.
The fantasy continued.
"You have always been a very ... conscientious ... student, Miss Granger."
Conscientious? Surely he hadn't actually said that to a student?
"Is that the closest thing to a compliment I'm ever going to get, Professor?"
Snape smirked slightly but did not give her a direct response. "You will soon be leaving this place, Miss Granger."
"Yes."
"Not a moment too soon, I should imagine. The world awaits you."
It was she who smirked now. "Hogwarts has certainly provided me with plenty of memories."
"Many of which you will wish to forget."
"Yes." She turned and fixed him with her eyes. "But not all."
Severus, absorbing the workings of her mind, noticed that all the other students had suddenly disappeared. They were alone in the classroom. The conversation was utterly hypnotic. There was a sense of expectation between them which made his pulse quicken and his throat dry.
"I suppose you forget about most of your students after they have left, Professor." She was looking at him intently and had taken a small step towards him.
He too stepped closer to her. "Most ... but not all."
The girl was breathing rapidly now. She was staring up at him. His face was noble, elegant, his dark eyes staring into her, his hair thick and glossy.
Do I look like that? Severus wondered.
With a barely masked intake of breath, Hermione turned away, back to her cauldron. There was a stillness, a heavy anticipation in the air. He felt her tension so acutely that every hair on his own body stood on edge. He moved behind her, so close that his breath could be felt on her ear. And then, with idle sensuality, his hands came up and were placed on her arms. Slowly, he drew them up, slowly. Her eyes closed and her head fell back with a sigh, revealing the creamy flesh of her neck for him.
Severus could not move. He was aghast, terrified ... thrilled at what he was seeing through her mind. And mixed into this was the undeniable wave of pure lust, both hers and his. His own breath was being pulled in as rapidly as the girl's in the fantasy. He could not leave it now.
Hermione's hand reached back to hold his head, pulling it down to her neck. He needed little invitation. His mouth descended to the skin and he kissed her throat, deeply and sensually. "Severus..." came the word, floated out onto the air around them. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her slender, taut body back against his. In her imaginings, Hermione bumped against a hard protuberance between his legs, rubbing against it with deliberate seduction.
Severus flinched. He knew his own desire was rising hard under the table.
His hands now moved up, cupping her lush breasts, running his fingers over the prominent nipples. One of her hands clasped onto his, pressing it harder against her. She moaned, a soft moan of complete abandon. "I've wanted this ... you ... Professor … I've wanted you for so long ... I didn't dare hope ..."
"Yes, yes, at last, Hermione ... I've waited for you ... now ... now ..."
He drew one hand up, turning her head to meet his mouth. She opened her lips and he plunged his down onto them. The force of their passion transmitted through her mind. His other hand was down, questing lower, reaching under her skirt, seeking –
"And that concludes the academic and departmental report of 1998-99. I am sure you will agree, it has been a busy and productive year. Thank you for your attention."
Flitwick had finished. Immediately, there was a loud scraping of chairs as the students and staff roused themselves. Severus' connection with Hermione was lost.
Everyone in the hall was moving, gabbling, released at last from their stupor.
All except two people, sitting stock still.
Hermione Granger remained at the Gryffindor table, staring ahead of her. Severus Snape sat rigid in his seat at high-table.
As the hall thinned out, his gaze remained on her. And, slowly, her head turned and she looked directly at him.
:-)
Now, I did say this was the last intrusion, but I did NOT say this was the end of the story. It's up to you. I could stop here if you like. What do you reckon? ;-)
