A/N: http://www. roselocator. com/rose_locator/roses/english_roses/471_gentle_ (3 spaces)
Just thought I would add this in here, even though I know the majority of you are going to roll your eyes at me. However, the confusion lost me a reviewer in the last chapter.
Hermione is white.
Please, please, stifle your gasps. She is also an English, Muggle-born witch. Please, then, don't be offended if I don't have her follow the culture of the Chinese, Portuguese, ect. I have no issue with her hyphenating her last name or anything else. In fact, she isn't even in a relationship right now, so she is just conjecturing.
If this has caused you confusion, I apologize.
Also, several reviewers asked for more of my impressions of our dearest Mr. Rickman.
His voice really does sound like that, but in person, he is rather soft spoken, in a velvet over bare skin sort of way. His hands were very soft, and he smelled deliciously clean. With his Yale prof outfit, he wore a pair of awesome dark with white strips socks, which, for some reason, made us fangirls very happy.
I saw the fish scarf.
And we were sitting in the row in front of Jeremy Irons.
Last, but not least, love to my beta and BP'r, Liongirl and shuldham, and I apologize for the obscene amount of fluff that worked its way into this chapter. And much notice has been given to 'Snape's Song.' Sound of Your Voice, by Brickman. I made this into a ringtone. If anyone would like it, shoot me an email.
Playlist: http://www .youtube. com/view_play_list?p=4AE2736E3F45FEC8 (2 spaces)
Author Fail: For those of you who tried to access the playlist and couldn't, sorry. My fault! It seems when you make a playlist, you need to actually ADD the movies to make it work. Youtube is not, in fact, psychic. Sorry! Problem fixed.
Chapter Ten
It was a Hogsmeade weekend for the older students, and Hermione was torn.
She was excited to get a start on her Christmas shopping – even if it was still October – and to have some free time. She was, however, going to be mostly on her own supervising the other students as Head Girl since Harry had finally asked Ginny to accompany him for the day, and Ron and Lorrell were going to have their first outing outside the castle as well.
"Luna!" Hermione called out as she walked along the busy street.
"How are you today, Hermione?"
"I'm good, Luna. I was wondering, if you aren't doing anything this morning, would you like to do a bit of shopping with me?"
Luna frowned as the girls headed down the path out of the castle. "Oh, I'm sorry, Hermione. I promised Neville I would meet him. I can see if he would like you to come, if you want."
Hermione smiled at her friend, wondering if she knew how much Neville liked her. "No, Luna. You two go on and have a great day."
"Would you like to meet up for dinner at the Three Broomsticks later?"
"That would be wonderful. I'll get Ginny and Lorrell as well. About five o'clock so that we can get a start back up to the castle after?" Hermione asked.
"Sound great," Luna said. "I'll see you later!"
Hermione waved as the blonde went in search of Neville. Even Luna was busy. Now she really was on her own. Oh well. At least she didn't have to worry about anyone seeing their gifts.
She thought of who she had to buy for: Harry, Ron, Ginny, Minerva, Arthur and Molly, Neville, and Luna. Perhaps Lorrell as well. And maybe something for Professor Snape, along with the baubles she bought for her other professors each year.
Ron would be easy. Broom polish and, since he was in a relationship again with someone who wasn't herself, lip balm. Perhaps she would make her own and put some anti-inflammatory in it as well.
Harry…what do you get the boy who can buy himself whatever he wants? She wasn't trying to mother him, but he really could use a planner. Then again, Ginny helped with that. What about a familiar? Harry had Hedwig, but he had never had a pet. Maybe she would look for a pygmy puff like Ginny's. Even their pets could have babies…
Ginny? Ginny needed an owl. That girl was constantly sending letters to people, and Pig was, well, Pig.
Minerva was a scary one to think about. She had gone from being Professor to Headmistress and her employer. There was that robe at Madame Malkin's, the rich blue with ribbon trim, and surely Madam Malkin would have Minerva's measurements. Hermione could send an owl…
Arthur and Molly. Now there was a special couple. They were people who always welcomed her and had proclaimed her part of the family. She didn't know what their wants were, but she knew what their needs were. She decided she was going to share a bit of her inheritance with them, just like how Harry had given his Triwizard Tournament winnings to the twins. There was still going to be enough left over to last more than her and her children's lifetimes, if not many more.
Neville would get the updated Goshawk's Guide to Herbology. Hermione would knit a parka for Luna. Lorrell had just mentioned how she still hadn't tasted much of their food, like jelly babies, digestive biscuits, or treacle. She would buy her a few things and talk to Dobby about making the friends a meal.
Hermione had no idea for Professor Snape. He would just have to wait until later. And she needed to check with Minerva to make sure he even celebrated Christmas. That would be a horrible faux pas.
Speaking of the good professor, she saw him now eyeing some students near Fred and George's shop with a scowl set on his face. A few days had passed since she had spent the evening waiting for him to return. She hadn't spoken to him, but seeing him at the High Table the next morning was more of a relief than she cared to think about. Hermione had no idea what had transpired at the meeting, but he seemed to be none the worse for wear. Still, perhaps he would want to accompany her this evening. The common room was going to be chaos after everyone returned, and she would surely be looking for some solitude.
"Good day, Professor!" she said merrily, walking up to him outside the store while ignoring the strange looks the startled students gave her upon seeing her address their nemesis.
"Is it? I hadn't noticed."
"Seems to be so far. No one has stolen anything and been caught, no one has ventured into the Shrieking Shack, and I've only had one snogging couple down in the alley by Zonko's."
"Happy day indeed," he told her, giving her the same wary eye the students had.
"Would it brighten your spirits to join me tonight? Same time, same place?"
He looked at her quizzically. "You've never asked in person before."
She smirked at him, a bit exasperated. "I beg your pardon, sir, for breaking protocol. Excuse me, please."
Hermione ducked into the new Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes shop, and not a moment passed before his pocket grew warm. Rolling his eyes, he read the message.
Tonight, same time, same place?
Smart arse. He returned his missive.
If it pleases you.
Hermione smiled at the message.
Well, it does.
His lips quirked faintly.
So be it then.
"Eh, you talking to your boyfriend there, Hermione? Clever use for those Galleons, ain't it, Fred?"
"You said it, George."
Hermione told them primly, "I am not talking to my boyfriend, and you two had better not get any ideas!"
By the time she left the store, Professor Snape was gone. She thought back on her brief Galleon texting. Had she really just said that? Told him it pleased her to have him there? Well it did, she supposed. She enjoyed his company.
There. She said it. She enjoyed his company. And perhaps the looks she caught from him once every so often after she finished a piece he particularly enjoyed. But she wasn't admitting that quite yet.
Hermione walked to the Three Broomsticks, grinning from ear to ear.
After she passed, Professor Snape slipped out of the nearby alley. She clearly hadn't seen him, which was intended.
He was a stupid fool. She hadn't even done anything really. What? Given him some kind words? Waited for him after a meeting? Told him she appreciated his company? That would barely pass for friendship for most people.
Then why was his heart pounding?
With a scowl, he headed for The Hog's Head.
~~HGSS~~
Entering the Three Broomsticks, Hermione quickly spotted the girls in a corner, already chatting animatedly.
Hermione was happy to be a witch as she sat down at the table, trying to imagine what all of their purchases would look like around the table if they had not been shrunk. She was pleased that she had had the foresight to send the blue pygmy puff and the beautiful barn owl up to the castle ahead of her. She had been able to procure everything she needed on this trip – except something for Professor Snape – and she happily related this to the girls.
"Christmas shopping?" exclaimed Ginny. "You've finished your Christmas shopping? It isn't for two months!"
"Yes, but we only have one other Hogsmeade weekend beforehand, and everyone will be doing their shopping then. I didn't have to fight crowds, and I got exactly what I wanted."
"Well, bully for you," said Lorrell.
Circe, she was a good fit for Ron. Determined to get to know her better, Hermione repressed a retort and asked her, "How was the date with Ron?"
"Oh my God, fabulous. We went and checked out the new brooms at the Quidditch shop. I think I might ask for one for Christmas since I can ride now. And I bought a bunch of bitchin' stuff from Fred and George. Those Extendable Ears? Way cool. I'm so going to spy on my sister now. And Ron is so much fun!"
"I'm glad you two enjoyed yourselves," said Luna. "Neville and I went looking in Dervish and Banges. We heard they had a snarfblat, but it turned out to be just a bubble pipe."
"Better luck next time, Luna," said Ginny with a grin.
"Ginny," said Lorrell, turning to regard the redhead, "Ron completely has your hair, and I love it."
"Actually, we all have my parents' hair, and it's atrocious."
"No way! I love Ron's hair! I'm totally for gingers. And he is one sexy ginger. I cannot get enough of his chest hair."
"And other things I don't need to be hearing!" said Ginny forcefully. "What you do or do not do, I don't care. But I don't want to hear about it."
Hermione was listening to Lorrell. It was good that someone was enjoying the aspects of him that drove her bonkers. The red hair made her nauseous, she still only used her broom when necessary, and she only spied on someone out of necessity.
She was completely and utterly pleased she was no longer with Ron. She was pretty sure Ron felt the same way.
Hermione was so thankful she hadn't slept with him. It would have been like sleeping with her brother…if she had had a brother, anyways. Not exactly the way to lose your virginity. She shuddered at the thought.
"And how was Harry, Ginny?" asked Hermione with a knowing smile. "I haven't seen you two all day."
Ginny unconsciously ran a hand over her hair, trying to smooth it. "It went well, it was good. We, um, went for a walk around town. Browsed Honeyduke's, of course…"
"Ron and I went to Honeyduke's!" interrupted Lorrell. "He actually kissed me behind the stand of sugar quills!"
"Harry and I used the face-changing masks from Fred and George, and he cornered me in the alley by Zonko's!" giggled Ginny.
"That was you?" yelled Hermione. "You broke my perfect record! You were the only couple I had to break up today! Honestly, couldn't you have waited until you returned to the castle?"
"No," said Ginny, completely seriously.
Hermione just rubbed her face and ignored her friends.
Her mind wandered as she listened to the girls talk about their day. It sounded like they all had had a marvelous time. They were giggling together, sharing stories like, "He opened the door at every store!" or "He was totally rubbing my thigh at the teahouse!"
What stories could she share of her day? "I got to break up you two snogging, I spent the majority of the time alone, and the highlight of my day was chatting with Professor Snape." She was half tempted to tell them just for the looks on their faces.
She shouldn't be throwing a pity party for herself, even in her mind. Harry and Ginny could have been dating for a year already, if Harry wasn't so blasted slow. And Luna and Neville were just adorable. How could she be angry with anyone who was as cute as they were? And Ron and Lorrell…well, she did like Lorrell. Hermione still didn't know her real well, but the girl was open and friendly. She was always game if someone wanted to do something. She wasn't real great at paying back favors, and Hermione was pretty sure she wouldn't trust her with life or death information, but she enjoyed having fun evenings with the blonde American, and she kept Ron out of her hair, for which she was profoundly grateful.
~~HGSS~~
Professor Snape had tossed back his quick drink at The Hog's Head and then began escorting students back to the castle. The teachers were bringing them back in shifts, and Aurors were patrolling the town to keep out any unwanted visitors. Safety was still a major concern, even though they tried to keep the extra security out of sight as much as possible.
After returning to his quarters, Snape found himself at a loss. Nothing he did kept his mind occupied. He tried books, research, grading, and chess. The best he gained was a few moments of interest before his mind went back to the same train of thought.
She sought me out. She wants to see me tonight. She all but admitted she enjoyed my company. But I shouldn't be doing this. I cannot feel this way. She is a student. A wisp of a girl. Hermione deserves none of this. Of me. She is patient. She is kind. She is beautiful. She is everything a woman should be and I? I am…
I am no one.
His thoughts could not tear themselves away. As much as he was tortured over the thought of her, it was like a bruise you couldn't help but touch. It was much more than just a physical attraction – although now just the scent of warm vanilla reminded him of just how attracted he was. Nimue, but he was a perverted wretch.
He was…he was old. And ugly. And mean. Hadn't she just watched him nearly strangle her best friend?
It wasn't that he felt he didn't deserve her. Or, well, something at least. After all these years, he knew that Fate had something in store for him. If he didn't, he would have given up to the grave many years ago. However, the most he was hoping for now was a quick and painless death, much like Dumbledore. His affairs, what little there were of them, were in order, with most of his belongings going to the school. What else did he have?
No, it wasn't that he didn't deserve a reward. It was that there was no reason for her to be saddled with him. His salvation should come in the form of an Avada Kedavra, not a vibrant young woman. She did nothing wrong. Gods, he had watched her for over six years now. Every rule she broke was for the greater good of wizarding kind. She had helped bumbling Potter not only live, but outwit the Dark Lord. The wizard that no one could seem to kill. She was brilliant. She was young. She shouldn't be entertaining the company of one such as him.
But she did, didn't she? She was seeking him out, not the other way around. Hermione was obviously concerned for his safety, and she had no qualms about speaking her mind to him. What was it she had said to force him to go?
"Severus Snape, if you don't go out that door this instant, I am going straight to the headmistress!"
He chuckled. Clever of her to pick up on the one living person in the castle who's authority he still respected.
Hang on. She had called him Severus.
Severus. Severus Snape. He played it over and over again in his mind. He liked his name the way she pronounced it, with all the syllables clearly spoken. Her lovely, lilting, alto voice. So precise, so…Hermione.
Miss Granger, he chided himself.
Oh, bollocks it. She was Hermione. If there was one person he swore he would never lie to, it was himself. He just…he couldn't go through with divulging his feelings. What a pathetic image that made. And never, upon pain of death, would she ever want to know. Hell, he couldn't even think about wanting to have a relationship with himself. But even if it were the case, he could not act on his desire. If he truly cared for her, he could not do this to her.
Oh, but how he wanted to.
But she was a student, and he her professor. To most, he was a Death Eater, while she was a promising bringer of the Light. They were complete opposites in the minds of the populace, the majority not realizing the things they had in common. Their need for solitude and acceptance. A love of books, and an unwillingness to change to please others. No matter when an intimacy occurred between them, it would always be taboo. Men like him were supposed to grow old alone and bitter and make others feel better about themselves.
Snape walked up to his mirror to take in his visage for a final time. Freshly showered, best day robes – which looked like every other pair – and his cravat neatly tied. He pulled on the cuffs of his starched white shirt and smoothed the wrinkles from his already wrinkle-free jacket.
Grabbing one last thing before leaving the room, he made a noise of disgust to himself and shut the door on his way to meet Hermione.
~~HGSS~~
Hermione ran the rest of the way to the door of the Room of Requirement and burst through the other side, slightly out of breath with rosy pink cheeks.
"I am so sorry! I tried to get away, and, I swear, if they asked me one more time to sit down and play Gobstones, I was going to snap."
She noticed Dobby had already come and gone as she put her music book on the piano bench. She wasn't that late, was she? She sat in the other chair to briefly grab something for a dinner that wasn't greasy or from Honeyduke's, and then she looked up and noticed her piano. Sandwich forgotten, she rose up and walked to the edge of the piano, unabashedly sticking her nose in the vase of three beautiful pink roses.
After a long inhalation, she exclaimed, "These are lovely! Were they here when you arrived?"
"No," he said simply.
"Did Dobby bring them?"
"No."
Hermione looked at him, confused.
"Did you bring them?"
"Perhaps," he said, not looking at her.
She smiled a shy but pleased grin. "A simple yes would be nice."
Snape shrugged nonchalantly. "I needed some petals for a potion and figured I could spare a few for the whims of a young woman. They are, after all, called 'Gentle Hermione.'"
He failed to mention that any flower would have sufficed, but he had picked those after Professor Sprout had told him the name. She had decided to plant them in her new planters made by their namesake.
He also failed to mention how many he had destroyed in his anger and indecision. Only when he was down to three roses left had he decided to bring them to her.
But just because she was helping him with his slumber.
Not as any kind of a gift or an act of courting. He was not pursuing her, and she would never be receptive.
"Really?" she asked, grinning fully now. "I only hear my name mentioned in mythology and Shakespeare's 'A Winter's Tale.' They really are lovely, sir. You have excellent taste, even if they are just for a potion."
He shrugged again and picked a piece of nonexistent lint from his jacket, partially regretting his impulse to bring the flowers to her, not wishing to call attention to himself.
Quirking her lips, Hermione made a decision. Walking over to him quickly, giving him no chance to escape, she leaned down and quickly wrapped her arms around him in a brief squeeze before standing up again and walking to the piano.
Snape was frozen. "And just what are you doing, Miss Granger?"
"Thanking you." It was her turn to shrug. "I'm a hugger, just ask my other friends. And if you don't like it, I wouldn't do anything nice for me."
"I'll keep that in mind," he said out loud. Inside, his mind said nothing, idly spinning its wheels as he attempted to perfectly remember that brief, sweet, and innocent embrace. He should have chastised her. Should have questioned her impertinence, thinking she could just touch him. Her professor! But he found it difficult to say no to the glass of sauvignon after being spoon-fed swill for so long.
"So," she said, changing topics, "How do you feel about Japan?"
"For this evening, I assume?"
"You assume correctly," she said. She finished her sandwich and flipped open the book at her piano. "I'm going to play some Keiko Matsui for you tonight. I'll play 'Water Lily,' 'Light Above the Trees,' 'Distance,' and 'Be with Me.'" Without more preamble, she opened to the correct page and began to play. (1)
He looked skeptically at her. "What? No music lesson?"
"I thought you grew bored with my chatter," she said in a slightly frosty tone.
"Not necessarily," he hedged. "You may chatter, if you wish."
She thought to herself that she had never smiled in front of him so much before. Perhaps his increased rest was improving his attitude. The circles under his eyes had faded somewhat, and Hermione had a brief mental image of him reclining, relaxed in bed, drifting off to sleep that joined the soft smile gracing her features.
The delicate notes of the piano filled the air around her, the light romantic tone breathing away the tension that had briefly arisen. The music was tentative, but trusting. A first touch between the intrigued.
"Even though Yamaha started making pianos in Japan in 1899, piano composition didn't become widespread in Japan until after the second World War. I think it was mostly due to the increased Western influence. The Japanese have always been very careful about keeping their cultural identity, so once the new instruments and musical theory became known, it had to be tweaked to fit in with their culture. Rentaro Taki was one of the first piano composers at the turn of the century…Am I boring you?" she asked suddenly with a worried look on her face.
"Surprisingly, no. Please continue." (2)
"Oh. Alright then. Um, some of the first Japanese music was called Gagaku, or court music, and was strictly instrumental. After that came Noh, which was more peasant music and was vocal as well as instrumental. During the Azuchi-Momoyama Period, several more instruments were added that increased in popularity during the Edo period. But piano wasn't introduced until after the Meiji Restoration." Hermione paused for a moment to flip the page as her more somber music became momentarily restless. The sounds of the hammer and pedals tinkled through the room, and true to the composition's title, the light could be heard dancing through the trees, splaying on the soft, green forest floor.
"Japanese musical theory was wholly derived from Chinese musical theory, which dates back to at least the fifth century B.C. In Chinese musical theory, the five tones of the musical scale, called a pentatonic scale, were intimately related to all the other 'fives' based on the five material agents: the directions, the seasons, organs, animals, et cetera. The five material agents were a sophisticated theory of change: all change, including musical change, was governed by the relationship of the five material agents – wood, fire, earth, metal, and water – either as they engendered one another or conquered one another. These two possible relationships – the sequence of the five material agents as they either engender or conquer – in part governed the sequence of notes in the scale. In addition, the five material agents were collapsed in a larger notion of yang and yin, the male –creation – and female – completion – principles of change in the universe. Likewise, the pentatonic scale was divided into a male scale and a female scale, or ryo and ritsu in Japanese."
She paused after her second song to demonstrate the pentatonic scale on the black keys of her piano.
"And where are you quoting that from?" he asked her.
Hermione sighed but started playing "Distance" anyway. (3) "I am paraphrasing an online lecture from the Washington State University in World Anthropology."
"I take it you took this course over the summer?"
"Perhaps," she told him.
"A simple yes would be nice," he drily responded.
She fought a smirk while looking at her piano. "Yes. During my summers, I often catch up on Muggle education and will occasionally enroll in a summer course."
"See?" he asked. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
"You wouldn't know, would you?" she told him with a laugh. "You never give straight answers."
Snape looked at her and told her, "I'm a creature of habit."
"Well," she said in a teasing tone, "let's see if some of those habits can change."
If only you knew, he thought.
"So. Japan. There are many composers, of course, such as Ryuichi Sakamoto or Kentaro Noda, but I only have a book by Keiko Matsui, who is a modern pianist. She blends Eastern and Western music with smooth jazz, as you can hear. Much of her repertoire is something I would expect to hear in an elevator, but I adore her solo piano compositions. She takes some of her other pieces and distills them down to just the essential melodies, and it's very relaxing."
Hermione began the last song (4), which she explained was her favorite of the group, and then she told him, "Ron and Harry are very put out with you, you know."
"And what atrocities have I committed this time?" Snape could only imagine what indignities those two imbeciles could conjure in their free time. There was no doubt that he had been…less than fair to them in the past, but he knew that nothing untoward had occurred recently. Outside of him strangling Potter in class.
"I let you listen to me play," she stated simply.
He shrugged a little, though inwardly he was surprised. "The significance being?"
"I won't let them," Hermione told him, continuing to play.
He brushed aside the implications of that for a moment and concentrated on a more pressing issue. "They know you play for me?"
"Of course. They're my best friends. I tell them everything. Eventually, at least."
"Do they know why?" he asked, suddenly self-conscious.
She gave a little nod. "The basics, anyway. They know you have trouble sleeping and that this helps. You needn't worry about them thinking less of you, sir. Harry has Voldemort in his head. He knows all about sleep struggles."
Snape frowned. "They haven't said anything to me."
She finished her piece and raised a look to him. "Do you expect them to?"
"Of course. I fully expect the little brats to storm my classroom, wands drawn, accusing me of sullying their friend's honor and integrity."
She barked out a short laugh. "Well, you came pretty close, but it has already been handled. I'm not sure which shocked them more, however. When I told them that you were perfectly amiable, or when Ron asked what we do and I told him I give you a striptease on the piano."
His heart actually stopped beating, and he swallowed loudly as his mind raced to proffer an image of what that would look like. Hermione giving him a seductive smile as the strap of a chemise fell off her shoulder, grabbing the edge of the flowing skirt, raising it just a little higher, giving him a peep of…
The chit was literally going to kill him.
"Relax," she said, misinterpreting his 'deer in the headlights' look. "He knew I was kidding. In due course. I would never tell them anything that would threaten your position here or…elsewhere, or my position as Head Girl. Only the two boys know, and they have been completely faithful. I can't promise they won't look at you strangely in class, however."
"I trust you, Miss Granger," he said, surprising them both.
"I'm glad," she said quietly. "I've always trusted you, sir, so I am glad we are on equal footing. Do you mind if I play one last song?"
Somehow, he found his voice. "By all means."
Snape was beginning to notice her true favorite songs. These were the ones that merely mentioning would light up her eyes like a Charm and that she needed no music to play. Like any other recipe or instruction, the repetition had engraved them in her mind.
"This is called 'Her Most Beautiful Smile,' and it's by Taro Iwashiro. It's actually from an anime, but it's wonderful. It's an enchanting piece, and I think it really demonstrates that music is made up of the silence as well as the notes. If there were no pauses, we couldn't appreciate the melodies." She blushed at him – very prettily, in his opinion. "Sorry, sometimes I can get carried away." Hermione shyly glanced over at him from under her lashes.
He took in her whole picture. The perfect roses, the same color as her pretty cheeks. The sleek black piano with her delicate fingers resting on it, and her curly brown hair framing those toffee-colored eyes. He felt her take his breath away. He did not think he had ever been the cause of such a lovely woman's blush.
He waved his hand for her to continue, not trusting himself to speak, and she began her song.
Hermione began the slow and delicate music, with its hesitant and pregnant pauses. She softly smiled as she played, remembering a few of the happy moments from her past. Receiving her piano, her Hogwarts letter, seeing her friends after recovering from the basilisk. Coming down the stairs to see Viktor, her first kiss with Ron, and chatting with Severus on the snow-covered steps in Hogsmeade.
Severus now, was he?
Yes, he was, she told herself. He is a friend now. Whether he liked it or not.
Thinking about his reaction if she were to tell him her thoughts, she reflexively allowed her smile to remain.
"That one is yours," he said suddenly and softly.
"My what?" she asked, distracted from her musings as she continued to play.
"Your most beautiful smile."
Circe, but she blushed to her toenails. She looked at him and saw that look. That burning gaze she had only seen directed at herself, with the shimmering eyes and intense features. "Thank you," she managed. "I was thinking about you actually."
"No need for false compliments," he said shortly, the look quickly turning into a glower.
"No, I was, honest. I was thinking that I consider you a friend of mine now, and you are just going to have to deal with the consequences." So much for secrets. "You're the one who should be considered dishonest."
"How so?" he asked, worried that she would see straight through him, to what he most desperately wanted to hide.
"A compliment on my smile from the man who considered beaver teeth to make no difference in my appearance?" she said with her arms crossed, challenging him.
"Yes, well, things change," he admitted, smirking at her challenging posture.
"Yes, they do. And I must consider that your most beautiful smile then, since that's all you have given me."
He fought it. He could honestly say he fought it, but in the end, he grinned just a little wider as he turned to let his hair cover the majority of his face.
"I can still see you."
He smiled a little more and crossed his arms and legs in defense.
"Well, now your knee and your chest are missing, but I can still see you smiling, Professor. You have to try harder than that," she told him in that adorably cheeky voice. He really was quite handsome when he smiled, and that thought sent a shiver through her.
He let out a snort of what was almost laughter before tossing her a fake smile.
Her laughter was loud and bright as it rang out in the large room. "Lovely, but we still have some room for improvement. Perhaps I will start handing out homework with my lectures, purely to practice for next year, of course."
"Yes, well," he said a bit testily after showing more of himself than he cared to, "the moment you start assigning detentions, I quit."
"Rest assured, sir. As long as you continue to behave, there will be no detention."
Chit.
Hermione watched his eyes shining with his internal laughter at her banter. She was almost proud of him for not becoming upset with her gentle teasing. Severus was proving to her a hypothesis she had had for quite some time. Somewhere in there was a different part of him that he never got to show. He was so caged in by his upbringing, by his own errors, and yes, by Dumbledore, that now he was locked into the role he must play, and he couldn't change it, even if he wished to. His position as a spy was too precarious, and he couldn't risk any changes that might draw the attention of the Dark Lord. But in here…in here, he could relax. He was sleeping better, he was comfrotable enough to eat with her, and he could unlock little doors of himself that had been kept under lock and key.
They stared at each other until Hermione broke the mood. If he kept looking at her in that fashion, she was going to do something she might come to regret. She was becoming far too interested in him and treating him in a less than professional manner. "I really must be going, can't tarnish my Head Girl reputation, but, sir?" she said quickly. "I just wanted you to know, anything that happens in here doesn't leave this room. I wouldn't violate your trust in me, and…and I don't mind being here. If you need someone. Sir."
He solemnly nodded at her, and she gathered her things. She gave him a questioning look and reached for one of the roses. He nodded again, and she smiled as she selected one to carry with her.
It was a long while that evening before Snape left the room. Even longer before he was able to find sleep. Many things ran through his mind. She had made him smile. She had taken his flower. She thought of him as a friend. His last friend had been her best friend's mother, and that hadn't ended so well. Perhaps it was time to give it another chance.
Once sleep did come, he dreamed of roses…and her smile.
Hermione was quite the opposite. She practically ran back to her room. She quickly transfigured a small vase for her flower and cast Disillusionment and Stasis charms on it. She wanted to see it, but she wasn't prepared for all the questions.
She lay in bed, and, with actions unknowingly mirroring his from a few weeks past, she lightly brushed her breast, soft as the rose petals, as her fingers found the sweet spot deep inside. She thought hard on strong arms, coal black eyes, and the look her gave her – was it a look of want? And if she sighed a little 'Severus' as she came, there was no one there to hear her.
And she knew just what to get him for Christmas.
Next week's teaser: She leaned over her chair, surprised at her daring, and took his long pale fingers in hers.