Hello! Bear with me while I fall back in love with Sevmione, and my story. No beta, mistakes are my own. Thank you and happy reading.
That one sentence replayed itself in his mind that night. It feels like home. Home was a funny, faraway concept for Severus. His childhood home had been anything but loving, complete with abusive father and mentally ill mother. Not often did his thoughts turn to them, it was discomfiting that they did so now. He was feeling emotional tonight, worn. The only place he had ever possibly felt at home was with Lily, even that was brief and ultimately false.
Suddenly, he longed to know what home felt like. Things were getting dangerous again, his feelings constantly trying to overrule logic. The wizard forced his mind down other avenues. They hadn't made much progress on the potion today, but things were looking promising. Refilling the empty glass on the desk, Severus leaned back into his chair.
Hermione had waited until the strong, even footfalls disappeared entirely before slumping against the door. He had to think her a fool. She hadn't meant to say any of it. The words poured unbidden from her mouth before she could stop them. Her professor had swiftly blanked the confused expression from his face, but Hermione had seen it, nonetheless. She sat in her room; loneliness overwhelmed by her embarrassment. It would be entirely unsurprising to receive an owl from the man with some excuse for removing her from the task. Although, he had said he enjoyed the evening. A warm glow accompanied that thought, for a few months ago she wouldn't have imagined the way she felt for him let alone he enjoying her company. Feeling decidedly quieted, the girl bathed and slept.
Tuesday passed easily for Hermione, for she had returned to the Room of Requirement in search of the Half-Blood Prince's book and been successful. The tattered potions book felt like gold in her hands, though she didn't dare take it anywhere other than her dorm. As she gazed over the spiky handwriting, an idea began to form. She knew the Professor's birthday was coming up, Dumbledore had always insisted on turning the great hall into a mess of candles and balloons- something which even the Potions Master could not escape. She wanted to do something nice for him, to show her…appreciation for him. That was it. Admiration, respect. He had given her an incredible opportunity after all, not to mention gifted her with dreamless sleep potions. The plan was risky, he would either like it or not. If he didn't, things could get ugly.
Tuesday night found Severus wandering the corridors, only half focusing on patrolling them. A young Gryffindor couple were lucky enough to blend into the shadows as the distracted Professor stalked past. His feet had carried him to Hermione's little corner of the castle, entirely unintentionally. The faint golden glow told him she was still awake. The idea that she was still up was comforting, it eased the cold of the lonely night. He wondered what she was doing. Perhaps, curled up in the sunken armchair or hunched over her desk, writing notes in studious cursive. His mind wandered somewhere primal, imagining her in bed. He had never seen her bedroom, which allowed his mind to create a four-poster bed covered in luxurious black silk. Or maybe maroon. She seemed to like red. He wondered what she slept in. A lacy nightgown seemed farfetched, but the image caused a deep ache. More likely, an ugly oversized t-shirt. The ache grew worse. After struggling through the last hour of his patrol, Severus Snape gave in. It had been a long time since he had relieved himself, turmoil successfully quelling any urges over the past years. He allowed himself to turn the shower to hot, forced himself to go slow. Bathed in the feeling, so long forgotten. Drawing a final deep breath, the wizard closed his eyes and pictured Hermione.
Finally, after what seemed like an age, she was back in the potion's classroom. Ginny had tried to bring up the subject of her strange behaviour again, but she had begged off, promising an explanation later. She was simply going to have to figure out something to say. The potions room was warm, the sconces lit once more. The professor sat at his desk, looking over his notes. He didn't say anything at first and when he finally looked up at her, she could have sworn she saw something new in his dark eyes. They spent the next three hours trying to incorporate the purple dye from the moss to the fermented bacteria. Hermione's hair frizzed up like a curly halo, Severus' stuck to the edge of his cheeks. After a final attempt ended in a second of Hermione's shirts being accidentally tye-dyed, the Potions professor held up a hand.
"That is it. I'm not sure about you Ms Granger, but I for one have had quite enough and am going to stop before my remaining brain cells excavate themselves through my ears."
Hermione grinned, "Agreed, Professor. I can't afford to lose anymore shirts."
Frowning for a moment, he pointed his wand at her shirt and murmured a spell. The purple swiftly removed itself from her person and tucked itself neatly back into the glass vial. Hermione looked up at him in surprise.
"Wow! What spell is that sir?"
"My adaptation of one of Dumbledore's spells. It comes in handy for spills."
"You are very clever, Professor". Hermione said the words softly, as if they might offend him.
"That is a matter of perspective but thank you. Tea?"
"Yes, please. If you don't mind."
He started off to leave the room when the witch behind him piped up,
"Where are we going?"
"My rooms, Ms Granger. Unless you are set on taking tea in the potions classroom."
At the thought of seeing his rooms, Hermione's heart began to race. She doubted many, if any, students had been in them despite his long-standing status as head of Slytherin house. Once they had descended what felt like hundreds of steps, he stopped before an ebony door. As he opened the door, she was hit by his earthy smell. This time, it was combined with the smell of old leather books and firewhisky. It was heady, stirring strong feelings in the pit of her stomach. Entering the room, the young witch keenly observed her surroundings.
Each piece of furniture was made from dark ebony wood, much like the door. His bookcase put hers to shame, it was all and more than she could have imagined. There was everything from shiny new copies to original manuscripts. Hermione's eyes were wider than saucers, her jaw dropped in awe. Behind her, Severus quietly bathed in her reaction. She reached out a hand towards a thick, gold leafed book before remembering where she was.
"Go on. That one won't bite."
"That one?"
"The top shelf is where I keep my more exotic volumes."
"I'm afraid to touch anything, some of these are so old."
"I trust your ability to handle a book Ms Granger, I know you are experienced in the act of doing so."
Hermione flashed him a grin before turning to take in the room once more, there wasn't much to it. The large bookcase, desk, and chair took up much of the room, as well as two dark green armchairs strategically placed before the unlit fire. They looked untouched. Aside from the bookcase, the room was impersonal. There were no loving touches, or little pieces of home. Only one other door existed in the room, closed. It probably led to his bedroom, she decided. Hermione knew teachers were required in the great hall at meals so didn't have need to cook for themselves. Choosing an armchair, she sat down.
Severus glanced over at the witch sitting in the armchair. He had never felt ashamed in front of his colleagues when they forced themselves upon him for a visit, but after being surrounded by the homeliness of Hermione's rooms, his own felt strangely inadequate.
"May I use my wand to light the fire? I'm afraid I've no matches here."
Hermione blushed, thinking back on their time in the cabin.
"I'm sorry I made you wait so long that night. It must have been annoying."
"Not particularly, although my toes did need a while to recover from the hypothermia"
The witch looked up at him, unable to tell if he was serious. He flashed her a quick grin. Her heart sped up once more. When he smiled, the deep lines in his face dispersed. His teeth were surprisingly white, for some reason she had expected otherwise. He looked handsome. But then, she supposed, to her he always did.
Once the tea had been poured and fire lit, Severus gestured to the bookcase
"Well, pick one, then"
"May I really?"
"Yes, you really may"
Unable to contain herself, the girl leapt from the chair and retrieved the same gold leafed book she had eyed earlier. It was a tome on the history of magic in Egypt, covering everything from gods to cat familiars. For the next two hours, the pair read in comfortable silence, unknowingly filling each other's hearts.