After DADA the next day, Hermione stayed behind to return Professor Snape's book. She had been watching him even more than usual throughout the class, just basking in the knowledge that he was the Half Blood Prince. She had always had a great deal of respect for the Potions Professor, but this was different. Snape had probably written in that book when he was a student (There was no way he had chosen that nickname as an adult). And yet, he had clearly had such an amazing intuition about Potions that he was correcting the textbook! In fact, he was probably better with Potions than his own Potions Professor. He certainly was now. And to add to that, he had invented spells too. She didn't even know that was possible!
Hermione waited until the last student had left the room, carefully packing her bag as slowly as she could, before walking toward the Professor's desk. He was gathering his notes and their essays on resisting the Imperius Curse and studiously avoiding her gaze.
"Professor," she began hesitantly.
"What is it Granger?" he drawled.
"I only wanted to return your book." She pulled the text from her bag and held it out to him. At that, he looked up at her and accepted the book. "Thank you for lending it to me."
"Yes, well, had I known how long it would take you to read it, I would have supplied you with a summary instead." He had returned to his packing, not looking at her. She knew he expected her to leave.
"I'm sorry, Professor. I meant to return it the other night, but it slipped my mind. But I've actually read it twice and made an outline in that time."
"An overachiever as always, Granger. What do you want? A treat?" Hermione was so stung by his rudeness that she lashed out without thinking.
"No, sir. Your enjoyable presence is more than enough reward." He froze and she felt herself blanch. Did I really just say that?! Severus Snape looked up at her slowly and she was surprised to see his amusement.
"I knew there must be a reason you were spending so much time with me, but I thought you were a masochist," he responded wryly. Hermione was stunned. Was he actually joking with her? Whether it was wise or not, she found herself playing along.
"I must be." He raised an eyebrow at her and the subtle suggestion made her blush. She suddenly felt the need to change the subject. "That book was fascinating. I never realized how involved Potions Theory was." At that, Snape set down his papers and leaned against the desk.
"Did you imagine that the rare, exotic ingredients we use in class were chosen arbitrarily?" Hermione blushed.
"Well, no. I mean… I realized that there were reasons each ingredient was used, but I never realized how many different things must be considered when choosing the ingredients. I mean… just looking at the relationships between different things and how one ingredient can have a completely different effect when paired with one thing than with another. It's amazing."
"Indeed it is, Miss Granger."
"Why have we never studied this in class?"
"Ah," Snape began sadly, "Unfortunately, we have to focus on teaching you what you will be tested on in your OWLS and NEWTS and cannot waste time on trivial things like your education." Hermione frowned in confusion. "You may be a big fan of standardized testing, Miss Granger, but I can assure you I am not. The OWLS and NEWTS do not actually test the students' knowledge or intelligence, but rather his or her ability to parrot information. Hence your exceptional results." It was as if he had slapped her in the face.
"But, surely if we do well on those exams it is because we understand the material…"
"No. It is only that you have memorized the specific information that they want you to memorize. Your NEWTS cannot test your actual understanding of the subject. Unfortunately, the Ministry decided long ago that students should be evaluated based on a system that can be used across the board to compare all students from all schools to each other. And this has meant more or less a standardized curriculum. Which only means that I am unable to waste your time filling your little brains with interesting tidbits like Potions Theory. After all, it's far more important for you to know how to brew a love potion. "
She had never thought of it like that.
Snape seemed to remember himself and looked away from her, gathering his papers once more and effectively dismissing her.
Over the weeks leading up to Slughorn's Christmas party Hermione saw a lot less of her Potions Professor. He had given her access to his private lab and allowed her the freedom to come and go as she pleased. This flexibility made things a lot easier on Hermione, giving her the ability to work when she had less homework and spend time on her studies when she had assignments due or tests to study for. It also meant that she only saw the Potions Master in class.
Fortunately, he still stuck to his part of the bargain. Every time she entered his lab, there was a list of potions to be brewed alongside a new assignment. When she returned the next time, she would leave the completed assignment. When she finished a book, she would leave it in the lab and find it replaced with a new one the next time she came. She missed his presence in the lab, however, and wanted desperately to learn more of his own insight.
She was thrilled when he started returning her essays with comments. Rather than his usual scything remarks about being a know-it-all and spewing words verbatim or putting in too much description, he argued with her interpretations and added new ideas of his own which were always brilliant.
And yet, she still missed him.
Christmas break was coming up fast and Hermione was actually not looking forward to leaving the castle. She wished there were some way she could spend the break here with Professor Snape. But that was silly.
Unfortunately, Slughorn's party did eventually come and Hermione had to face the inevitable date with Cormac. It's just for one night, she promised herself.
This party had somehow become the talk of the school and—aside from the whole Cormac thing—Hermione was actually starting to get excited about it. For one thing, there was actually a good chance that Professor Snape would be there.
It was with this in mind that Hermione picked out the dress she would wear. It was a trifle more daring than her other options and—she hoped—more mature. The dark green velvet cut a deep V down the bodice, exposing a tasteful amount of cleavage and there was no seam where the skirt began, leaving a smooth expanse of fabric all the way down to the hem just above her knees. The bodice had long, fitted sleeves and was molded to her frame, clinging to her breasts and hugging her hips while showing off her slender waist. The skirt flared subtly beneath her hips and danced around her thighs with its tantalizing softness. She had chosen green with the excuse that it was a Christmas color, but especially because it might provoke a certain dark professor.
She had tamed her hair and pulled it up to expose her long neck, which she emphasized with a necklace that had been her mother's: a small, dark ruby encased in gold and hung from a golden chain.
When she headed down to the Common Room, Cormac was already there waiting. One look at her and his eyes practically bugged out of his head. Oh no, she thought, he probably thinks I've dressed up for him.
Looking out on this exceedingly boring affair, Severus had to ask himself why he had even bothered to show up. He had been swaying back and forth between coming and staying ever since the invitations had been sent out. Even an hour ago he had told himself he would not suffer through it, yet here he stood. Perhaps it was the allure of champagne, or the relief of the winter break, or the chill of his dungeon bedroom. Or… perhaps… if he was absolutely honest with himself… it was a certain bushy haired know-it-all whom he had been avoiding for weeks.
Severus did not want to think about the fact that he wanted to see her. The truth was… he missed her. Reading her essays had been almost like a conversation between them and he had to admit that he enjoyed it immensely. That was the only thing. There was no one else around with whom he could discuss such things in such depth. Except Horace. But he didn't count. Well there was that… and the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about the way she had felt underneath him that day in the lab. Or the erotic way she had moaned when he woke her in the hallway, looking right into his eyes as if he had done that to her.
Stop it! This is completely unacceptable! Two glasses of champagne is not nearly enough to justify these thoughts. Severus had tried so hard over the last few weeks to block thoughts of her from his mind, but it was no good. He wanted her. That was easy enough to understand. He had rationalized it to the perfection of a mathematical equation. She was a very attractive woman—GIRL!—and she was intelligent enough to have interesting conversations with him. She was not vain like so many other women he knew, yet she was undeniably beautiful in a unique sort of way. She did not waste her time dating the boys her age, none of whom could ever keep up with her. And she was so innocent and selfless in a completely unassuming way that left him feeling dirty and low.
Picking up a third glass of champagne, he continued to scan the room, scowling. She's not coming. Feeling like a fool, Severus was about to leave when the object of his idle thoughts stepped through the curtained entryway and his heart stopped. The angel in front of him was not a schoolgirl looking for attention from her professor. She was a stunning, confident woman attracting the attention of everyone in the room.
From his vantage point in a dark corner, he watched her look around, taking in all of the gaudy decorations with mild amusement. She seemed to be looking for someone. Her date? He hoped to hell she hadn't brought Weasley.
At that moment Cormac McLaggen stepped in behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist, whisking her off toward a group of his friends. Severus felt the glass break in his hand. McLaggen?! Of all the dunderheaded twits she could have chosen, him?! He was the king of the dunderheads! What was it with her and her penchant for brainless Quidditch players?!
He had been naïve to think that Hermione Granger was a discerning judge of character. Look at her two best friends for Merlin's sake! He had only wanted to believe she was better than that because he liked to think that he had good tastes. But he had been wrong. She was as shallow as any other schoolgirl twit!
She was wearing green.
And still looking around for someone, despite clinging to McMeatball's arm.
Stop it! You're being pathetic! But Severus couldn't tear his eyes away from her lush figure and the way the soft velvet of her dress showed off her every curve. Hermione pulled away from McLaggen, perhaps to find Potter, and he got a glimpse of her deep V-neck and the lush, full breasts exposed by it. He found himself walking toward her as she poured herself some punch.
"Slytherin green?" he rumbled when he was close behind her. She whipped around and he watched her face flush. Once again he followed the blush down her neck and was pleased to see that it did go down further than that. You're staring, he caught himself, and glanced back to her face. She was oddly fidgety now. Had he frightened her? "How does your date feel about that?" She blinked at him, her lips parted just slightly in confusion. Gods her mouth was inviting!
"Feel about what?" she asked softly.
"About you sporting his rival's colors." At that, her pretty little chin turned up and she smiled a little mischievously.
"They're Christmas colors, Professor," she declared. Then she raked him with her cinnamon eyes. "Where is your holiday spirit?" Severus barely caught the question as he had just noticed the beautiful ruby necklace and how it drew attention to her delicate collarbone and neck. He longed to kiss that neck. Realizing he had been staring again, Severus tried to recover.
"I think you have more than enough for the both of us, Miss Granger," he purred. She blushed beautifully, accentuating the red of her necklace. This close, the fabric of her dress looked to soft that it was almost more than he could bear not to touch it.
At that moment the Meathead decided to reclaim his prize. Completely ignoring his professor, McLaggen slipped an arm around Hermione's waist. Severus could have murdered him right then and there. His hand was running over her waist and hip as he inquired as to why she had slipped away from him.
Severus was just about to intervene when Horace called out from behind him. "Look who's under the mistletoe! Giver a good one McLaggen my boy!" He caught Granger's horrified expression before McLaggen whipped her around and pressed his lips hard to hers. Her gasp of shock when the boy pulled away sent a jolt through Severus's body. He decided to leave before he did something he regretted, only to find himself rooted to the spot. At first he was completely in shock and couldn't imagine who had cursed him without his knowledge.
Then it hit him: enchanted mistletoe. It wasn't just over Granger and McLaggen. It was over Granger and himself! The girl seemed to realize this at the same moment because McLaggen had backed away and she still hadn't moved. They made eye contact, both their fears confirmed. And yet, there was something in the expression she turned on him that sent shivers of desire running through his body. Could it be?
Horace exploded with laughter. "Looks like Miss Granger's snared herself a Snape!" Severus turned his most evil glare on the man. "Oh come on, Severus! It's just a bit of innocent holiday fun!" But Severus had no intention of touching Granger here. Instead he drew his wand and lit the damned mistletoe on fire in such an impressive display that he had to yank the girl out from under it as the burning pieces fell. And then he swept away.
What do you think? 8}