Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter etc. I am only messing with the characters.
Author's Note: Yes, this chapter is long, long, long overdue. Oh well. Sorry. Forgive me? I hope you like this new chapter! It's quite good.
Chapter Eight - Uncontrolled
The look on Snape's face after I said this was unreadable. He had just parted his lips to speak when there was a knock at the door. Snape started and I thought I saw him lose a grip on his book, but he caught himself. He crossed the classroom and opened the door.
It was Malfoy.
Now, I'm not sure if you're aware of this or not, but I despise Malfoy. He is extremely dimwitted, and entirely too smug. His handsome face is always contorted into this odd look, like something is constantly confusing him and he tries to make everyone feel beneath him. This annoys me. What annoys me more is the fact that Snape actually seems to like Malfoy.
When Malfoy saw me he narrowed his eyes slightly, the trademark look he seemed to save specially for me. I had no idea what to do. Leaving would leave Snape in an awkward position, so I stayed where I was and didn't say a word.
"Professor, sir," Malfoy said in his usual drawl, "Can I speak with you?" He glanced at me, sniffed a bit, and added, "Alone?"
Snape hesitated. I could imagine he felt torn between accepting Malfoy's request and continuing our conversation. Or maybe he didn't want to continue our conversation at all, and wanted to think of a good way to end it without Malfoy knowing what was going on.
"Miss Granger…this detention is over. You'll be here tomorrow night at eight o'clock."
That was all. It was over. I silently cursed Malfoy and left the room, silent but sure.
I didn't tell Harry or Ron about what had happened during my detention later that night. Something about it was much too personal to put into words. I wondered what they would think of it if I did tell them. I didn't think they would understand. I remained silent.
During lessons the next day, I began to drift more than normal. Nothing made sense to me anymore. It seemed as if my life had turned completely upside down. I thought of the look Snape had given me the night before, the slight flicker of his eyes as they landed on mine. He scared me, and I didn't like that.
Ever since I was a small girl, I have always conquered what I did not understand. To fully grasp something and to nurture the knowledge had always been a beautiful thing to me, and I did not want this opportunity to be any different. Why hadn't I ever thought of him like this before? He was a book to me, a book that was locked away in a secret chest to which I didn't have the key. I wanted to find it.
"Miss Granger!" a voice squeaked, and I jumped, startled.
Professor Flitwick was standing on his usual tower of books, staring at me as if he could not believe his eyes. I must admit that I felt quite bad. I sat up straight in my seat and said, "Yes, Professor?"
"Miss Granger. Thank you for returning back to Earth," Flitwick said slowly. A Ravenclaw in the back of the room laughed out loud.
"I'm sorry sir."
"Yes, I daresay you are." He cleared his throat and said, "Miss Granger, can you tell me the proper way to wave your wand to cast a Pigmentation Charm?"
Later on that night I made sure all my homework was completed before heading to Professor Snape's classroom for detention. I was quite nervous. I didn't know what he would say or how he would act, but I wanted to be as prepared as possible. My mind was still teeming with questions to ask him.
Before opening Snape's classroom door, I knocked timidly. I heard the cold, "Come in," and I opened the door and shuffled into the room. Closing the door securely behind me, I turned to look at Snape.
He was sitting at his desk as usual, but he wasn't grading papers tonight. As a matter of fact, there was nothing on his desk at all but a small inkbottle and a quill on the top right corner.
"Good evening, Miss Granger," he said quietly. His hands were folded together neatly on his desk, and he was completely still, watching me intently. My heartbeat quickened.
"G-good evening, Professor Snape," I responded.
"Sit down."
The order rang sharp through the air. It had a poisonous ring to it, deadly and fluid. I sat at a table in front of his desk. My hands were shaking uncontrollably. I hid them by folding my arms.
Why was I so afraid? There was nothing Snape could physically do to me, nothing to hurt me badly, anyway. I didn't do anything wrong last night. I simply told him how I felt in a respectful way.
"Tonight," Snape began, "You will not be writing lines or scrubbing desks. I have something new in store for you."
I tried to swallow but noticed my mouth was dry. Something new?
"What do you want me to do?" I asked quietly.
"Well, I think we need to discuss a thing or two."
He stood up, pushing his chair in perfectly with the desk. My stomach lurched.
"I want you to know that our…conversation last night did not go unnoticed." He paused and then sighed slightly: an almost inaudible sound, but it released the tiniest bit of pressure, and I relaxed a little in spite of myself.
"I'm sorry, sir. It was out of place for me to say that to you."
He slowly began to pace a little, a nervous habit he must have. That is, if Professor Snape got nervous.
"No. I said it too. That's what you're not understanding."
He stopped pacing and looked at me.
"I keep trying to tell you that I apologize for my atrocious behavior. But to be perfectly honest with you, I'm not sorry at all."
My heart was thumping quickly and I couldn't find words. I didn't understand what was going on and what had caused this. He was still cold, prickly Professor Snape, but I was seeing something else.
"You do fascinate me, Miss Granger. You always have." Silence. I couldn't even find the will to say thank you. He walked to my desk and brushed the back of his hand over my left cheek.
I shivered. I wasn't quite sure if I was comfortable with this, I felt like a girl, a little girl that had no idea what was going on. It seemed like he had no self-control. This wasn't like Snape at all.
I didn't say anything. It seemed that remaining silent was my best option right now.
"Stand up."
Another order. I stood, blindly, almost bashfully. I looked at my feet. A part of me actually wanted what was happening, another part of me was so afraid. I felt dirty.
"Look at me."
I obliged. Something about him was irresistible, like you couldn't deny what he wanted. I wanted to think I saw more in him than a cold hearted man. He suddenly had a sad look on his face, like he regretted something. It was gone the moment it came.
"Miss Granger," he said quietly. "You're…"
He trailed off before finishing his sentence. I felt hot; it was so hot in his classroom.
"I'm…?" I said, lightly. He looked troubled.
"I feel wrong." Snape said this simply, but it wasn't a simple statement. Then, seemingly abandoning all pretenses, he stepped closer to me, closer and closer until our bodies almost met.
I struggled to breathe properly. I backed up, and he kept coming closer, he wouldn't get the hint…
I couldn't say anything, I didn't want to yell, there was something about this that felt good, somewhere in the lonely corners of my mind, I liked it…
I was against the front wall of the classroom, and he was almost towering over me. He touched my face again, softly, making a lazy trail across my cheek. His breathing was ragged.
"Professor…" I mumbled.
"Shh."
His hand snaked around to the back of my neck and he pushed my face up to his, hard. His lips met mine, a sort of slight linger until it was a desperate need, he wouldn't let go of my neck but I wasn't really straining to get away. Something about this fascinated me, something about this made me want more and I felt the need to pull him as close to me as possible.
He suddenly pulled away from me, a ravenous look on his face. He traced my lips with his thumb. I was motionless, letting emotions I had never felt before overtake me.
"You…you have to go," he said, almost too quiet for me to hear.
"What?" I said, taken aback. I was too nervous to touch him, but I felt like I wanted to.
"Don't. Don't speak. Don't say anything. Just leave." He pulled himself away from me and walked away, up the stairs and into his office, and slammed the door shut.
To be continued. (I promise.)
Reviews are appreciated.
