Disclaimers: I do not own anything from the books of Harry Potter and I'm certainly not making any money from this story. Everything you might recognise belongs to J K Rowling, her editor and Warner Bros. (Though as far as I know, the plot, and some minor characters, are mine.)
Summary: One usually says that "bright minds think the same", but do they listen to their hearts – especially when the minds are as stubborn as those of Severus Snape and Hermione Granger?
Author's notes: Thanks for all the reviews and all your support. I'm truly happy that you liked the argument. It was really funny to write, especially since when you have a real argument you tend to come up with these comments far too late, but when you write it, you don't have emotions running high, but instead you do have time to think.
Another thing, some of you have wondered about me and my writing so here comes a very short biography. (Don't read it if you aren't interested.) I'm 20 years old (or very soon at least) and this is my first fanfiction ever. I haven't written a story since I was forced to in school when I was about eleven, but after reading some (or quite a few) fics about Snape and Hermione I got inspiration for this one. I normally don't like to let people read what I've written since I feel like they are judging my thoughts, but this is different since you don't know me. Anyway, I've really only got one major writer's block during this and that was when writing chapter nineteen, but on the other hand I can't come up with any ideas for a story that isn't fanfiction. I don't know how I'm able to update once a week except for that I really love the characters and find them lovely to write plus I spend more time in front of the computer than my family thinks appropriate. Finally, I've always liked imagining things and getting all this response makes my wander on clouds – thank you to all who has reviewed.
amelie – thank you for the lovely review and the kind words! I'll contact you about the betaing and thank you for asking.
bluedecor – I don't think I've seen that film. Which one is it?
bootyful77 – I hope I'll make you happy soon ;-).
Candy04 – Thanks for the review. I'm sorry that I'm slow (I've got maths to do), but my plan is to start reading your story this weekend.
Erica Dawn – Thank you so much for the review. I won't try it, I promise. I normally stay inside during storms. (Which is the lightening capital, but the way? – Please forgive my ignorance.) I've thought about that as well, but it still doesn't explain why his mother's name isn't on the book.
FireKidd – Yes, I have, thank you.
GuardGirl2 – Thank you. I think the theory is very probable, especially when one adds all the other arguments for Snape still being good that I've been given.
Hinoshi – I never told you what he did the other nights – that's up to your imagination, ;-).
Heroviallain- What is "hm" supposed to mean?
Humanity74 – I've only got one thing to say; sometimes dreams come true. (I think you might like this.)
ListenHere! – I'm glad I've made you enjoy the pairing.
MeowMix91 – Thank you for your kind words!
Nada Batu – You're so clever. Of course it has something to do with her special room – Harry knocks on the door in the Gryffindor common room, hence no need to walk up the stairs. Oh, and I'll contact you about the betaing. (Thanks for asking.)
Nathifa Femi – Nervous about people's reactions.
OboeWitch6263 – Here's another chapter. I hope it'll placate you. I'm not into the Polyjuice Potion theory myself, but I definitely still think he's good.
Portkeys Miss-Mione – Thanks for explaining – I now understand what you meant – and thanks for the review.
Rouge07 – Are you by any chance from a French speaking country?
Snuffle's Girl – Of course a girl can dream. To answer you musings; I think he simply forgot it in his classroom when he switched classrooms in tHBP. He probably had it in the cupboard to keep it safe to begin with – hewould never lend a student a book if they didn't have one.
Tesmoname – Thanks for your encouraging words. They made me really happy. Thanks for explaining your penname. I don't want to be a spoilsport (so please don't hate me), but I think the translation should be "pour ton coeur" (for your heart). I love your name, but I think it's a mixture of French, Italian and Latin and means something in the lines of "something (I can't translate it) my love"
Bright Minds Think the Same
Chapter twenty one – To Speak without Thinking
Severus glared out over the Great hall. Damn her! Damn that little curious Pandora! Why did she have to provoke him? He cursed the day he had given her that first detention. Couldn't she just be quiet so that he could pretend that she was someone else or, even better, not there at all. Not that he would be able to, not that he really wanted to, but at the moment it was a calming thought.
A voice finally broke through his inner raging. "Severus." the headmaster called for the fifth time as the Potions mater's eyes left the young woman at the Gryffindor table, signalling that he was listening. "Miss Granger seems to have thoroughly distracted you." he noted, a small smile playing somewhere under his moustache. "What difference of opinion can have caused the emotions to run this high?" He peered at the younger man over the rim of his half-moon spectacles.
"The impertinent woman does not know her place. She constantly questions everything; risking ruining all the previous work on the potion we are working on." he answered, clearly still angry.
"I see; and you, of course, had nothing to do with it." Professor Dumbledore agreed.
"She is supposed to obey me. She shall do as I instruct her."
"Of course, of course. You are perfectly right, Severus, Miss Granger needs to learn not to question her superiors," he said and then added as an afterthought, "but if she didn't, she wouldn't quite be our Miss Granger, would she?" Snape simply glared at Dumbledore before he rose from the table and swept out of the Great hall, leaving most of his dinner untouched behind.
He stalked down to his classroom once again, his mind still occupied with thoughts of the argument they had had. He slammed the door closed behind him, cursing the way Hermione managed to get under his skin. And damned be Dumbledore! Why did the old man have to agree with him? He was supposed to argue against him, giving him the right to continue ranting. The headmaster's words caused him to feel slightly uneasy, perhaps he was slightly at fault, but he quickly made himself snap out of it.
Slamming his tools and ingredients down slightly harder that was strictly necessary, he proceeded to continue with the potion they had worked on before the stupid witch had felt it necessary to question him and the methods of centuries.
A few minutes later he was again cursing, but this time over the potion. He knew exactly how to make it and with practiced movements he normally never had any problem getting the right texture and colour, today however, he was chopping the roots just slightly too hard and stirring the solution just a little too fast. The potion was a few shades too dark and he cursed this art he had decided to dedicate his life to. It did not take well to temperament – anger, happiness, sadness… every feeling could influence the potion. He added some marigolds and watched as the potion became a rather thick, purple mass.
"Damn her!" he all but shouted at the empty classroom as the cauldron hit the opposite wall when his temper got the better of him. The concoction was beyond saving anyway and the outburst made him feel slightly better about the whole situation. Breathing heavily, he flung himself down in his chair and pulled out his wand to clean up the mess. When done, he sunk back in the chair. Perhaps the methods of centuries had their drawbacks. It was hopeless to brew this potion if you were anything but perfectly calm, perhaps… He rose and started to prepare a new batch. Perhaps Hermione's suggestion could work after all. Not that he really wanted to believe so, but it couldn't be worse than the catastrophe he had just banished.
Hermione was positively distracted during classes with Flitwick and McGonagall. She was so distracted that Professor McGonagall finally ended the lesson half an hour early to prevent her from causing any harm. Back in Gryffindor Tower she was unable to concentrate on her homework. At nine o'clock she finally gave in and went to bed, but soon found out that this was a rather stupid decision. She lay raging during a long time, angry at the stupid, awful, infuriating man, but slowly her mind turned in another direction.
Perhaps Severus – Professor Snape – had been right. Perhaps she had been wrong and risked to blow up the cauldron and even the school. But even if that was the case, which was highly unlikely, there was no need for him to get so angry or for being so rude to her. But, what if he'd only been worried? And she had called him some rather awful things as well. And as Ron and Harry had pointed out, he'd neither given her detention nor deducted any points. That really was unusual, but she had had a point. She sighed into the darkness. But even so, she had been unnecessary nasty. He was after all her instructor. And what was it that he had said? You know nothing about my feelings. What was that supposed to mean? Had she really offended him that deeply? She knew she shouldn't have said the things she had. She suddenly had trouble breathing and she felt strangled by her sheets.
She threw them aside and practically jumped out of bed, breathing heavily. She quickly glanced at the watch, three o'clock in the morning. Well, it couldn't be helped, she needed air, she needed to think and she needed to decide what to do about the argument.
She quickly dressed in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. As she left the room, she threw on a knee-long, grey cardigan though in her hurry to get away, she forgot to put anything on her feet.
She hurried through the hallways. She needed to get outside. She felt slightly claustrophobic and again she could hardly breathe. Her bare feet got frozen by the cold stone floor, but she didn't take any notice. Finally, she saw the enormous wooden doors and picked up her pace even more. Her guilt made her feel slightly nauseous and she took a couple of deep breaths before she slowly opened one of the doors just enough to slip outside, but when she had, she stopped dead. On top of the low stair sat Severus, looking out over the lake and seemingly deep in thought. She had absolutely no idea how to begin. She needed to apologise, that she knew, but her musings hadn't taken her so far as to decide what to say. Before she realised what she was doing, she heard herself speak softly. "It doesn't rain."
"I know." he replied, his deep voice sending shivers up her spine. He still hadn't taken his eyes of the lake, hardly visible in the darkness.
It had been completely impossible to fall asleep. At first he had been angry, but it had faded unusually quickly, only to be replaced with what could only be described as guilt. He had never meant to yell at her, it was simply too much. Every time they were together it was getting increasingly hard to maintain his façade and so he had snapped at her that morning more out of desperation than of anger. His conscience had tormented him all night and he felt a strong urge to take her in his arms and whisper how deeply, truly sorry he was against her hair. Damn her, there he was again. That would be the third time he apologised to Hermione. What was the woman doing to him? He had finally not been able to take it any longer and had fled his rooms. He'd been sitting on the stair for about half an hour when she turned up.
After what felt like an eternity, but probably only was a minute at the most, he turned to look at her, standing against one of the doors. "Tonight there are other things keeping me awake." He took her in as she left the door and sat down beside him, leaving a space about a foot between their bodies.
She sat in silence as did he and the minutes ticked by. He suddenly noticed her shiver and realised that she wasn't wearing a cloak and that her feet were bare. "Stupid witch," he said gently, "you can't walk around without cloak and shoes in November. Come her before you freeze to death."
To her great surprise, he made room for her between his legs and when she had sat down, glad for the part of his cloak that covered the step, he wrapped his arms and cloak around her, pulling her towards his chest. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, trying to give her some of his warmth and get her circulation going. She relaxed and leant deeper into his embrace as she let her head fall back to rest against his chest.
She was tracing patterns on his left knee as she finally gathered enough courage to speak. "I'm so sorry that I yelled at you. It was uncalled for. You were right; I should have taken your advice in consideration and even if I have my own ideas, there is no need to get angry." she said shyly, glad that the darkness hid her blush.
"I am sorry as well. I overreacted, I should have let you finish before I formed an opinion and as you said, there was no reason to get so upset." Well, he had done it, he had apologised to her again. That put her on the receiving end of half of the apologies he'd ever uttered, but somehow, having her in his arms again made up for it. "So, Miss Granger, have you brewed any rule breaking potions from your new book?"
"They are only against the rules if I brew them and someone knows about it, so I will refrain from answering that question." she answered teasingly.
"Insolent woman, I really should tell Dumbledore to get rid of that confused piece of cloth which calls itself a Sorting hat." Her soft laughter filled the darkness and his deeper one soon mingled with hers.
When her laughter had subdued, she sighed contently and snuggled closer to his body. She had missed their conversations and extra time together during the week and this felt so right. She wanted to stay like this, preferably forever. Before she was able to stop herself, she turned around so that they faced each other, noses almost touching, and spoke. "I love the time we spend together. I love to talk to you. I think… I think I'm falling in love with you, I think I have for a long time now." Oh God, what had she done? It had just slipped out of her, but she knew that it was true. She had tried to deny it for so long and simply could not do it any longer, not when they were alone together like this.
What had she said? That she was… falling I love with him? How was that possible? Surely that couldn't be true? There was no way that his… Could it really be? No, no one could hold that kind of emotion for him. It must be something else that she simply mistook for love. Respect? Admiration perhaps? Well, he certainly whished that she felt those things for him; he definitely felt that way about her. But there was no way to mistake those feelings from those of falling in love, he should know because he had come to realise that that was exactly what he was doing. He probably had since that detention all those weeks ago after which he had been unable to rid his mind of the image of her. He could hear his blood pound in his ears as his pulse quickened and his breathing became slightly erratic.
They were so close, time appeared to stop and nothing but he seemed to exist. His warm breath blew over her face and she tilted her head, placing one hand on his chest. Her heart hammered against her chest and her cheeks burnt.
He willed himself to breathe as he unconsciously cupped her cheek. He pulled her closer to him and as he lowered his head towards hers, he saw the moon glitter in her eyes, capturing his gaze.
Their lips brushed against the other's so softly they hardly touched at all. He caressed her cheek as he tightened his arm around her at the same time as she turned around fully, moving the hand that wasn't placed on his chest to the spot where his hair met his neck. While two hearts beat in a rapid harmony, he put more pressure behind his kiss and felt her respond by parting her lips slightly, slightly. She felt the feather light caress of his tongue on her bottom lip and parted her lips to allow him entrance. He accepted her invitation and slowly, softly deepened the kiss.
Her heart pounded and her cheeks flushed as they kissed. It was truly amazing. She'd never felt anything similar to the way she was feeling now. She was certain that she was floating, first high in the air and then deep down in the ocean. She couldn't decide if she wanted to cry or laugh. She wanted nothing but being close to him, being held by him. Her fingers entwined in his hair and she felt his tongue caress her mouth, tasting her. She leaned into their kiss, savouring the feeling of it, of him and of simply being together.
However mature she was, he could tell that this was quite new to her and so he guided her gently through the kiss. And gods above and bellow, it was absolutely wonderful. He could feel blood rush to his cheeks. Her scent enclosed him as effectively as her arms and he never wanted to leave this place ever again. Her uncertainty made him hold her protectively against his body caressing her cheek again. Merlin, she was falling in love with him. He could hardly believe what was happening. Surely this must all be a wonderful, wonderful dream. He savoured every moment of their experience, wanting to remember every detail.
When they finally broke apart they were both slightly dizzy, but he still held her a she sunk back in a more comfortable position, leant up against his chest. He closed his eyes, trying to regain his breath as he pulled her close as if afraid she might disappear when he opened his eyes again. "I've come to think that the same can be said about me." he whispered quietly in her ear. Merlin, why had he said that out loud? She was never supposed to know that. Damn, damn, damn! What should he do? He was just about to snap at her when she turned her head around again and looked into his eyes.
She answered softly, breathlessly, "Actually, I think I've already fallen." He nuzzled his nose in her hair, again inhaling her scent, as he embraced her tightly. He felt her pull his hand to her lips and place a soft kiss on his fingers. He answered hers with a tender one of his own on the top of her head.
Her heart was slowly calming down, but her cheeks still burnt. For the first tie in her life, none of her thoughts were coherent, in fact her mind hardly worked at all, and she took a deep breath, hoping to regain her senses. As the haze she was in slowly left its hold of her, she spoke, "Can I come to the library tomorrow night, or well tonight actually since it's past midnight?" she asked, letting her thumb play across his knuckles.
"You don't have to ask." he whispered against her hair. "I will look forward to it."
They spent the remaining hours of the night on top of the staircase, his arms around her. They spoke little, simply enjoying the closeness and the feeling of being there together. Hermione continued to caress and play with his hands and he rested his chin against the top of her head again, occasionally brushing an escaping lock from her face. They didn't leave their comfortable position until the sun had risen and the school above them was waking for the new day.
Author's notes: Well, that's it! (The kiss, NOT the story unless you think that it should end like this, though I certainly don't – I've got more plans.) No one woke up and found themselves dreaming and no one interrupted them. Anyway, I hope you thought them ready by now and that you liked it. Though I've said it before and I'll say it again; nothing ever is as easy as it seems.