After two days under the watchful supervision of Snape, you were exhausted. As promised, he had let you teach the younger years and except for Seamus Finnigan's cauldron exploding in his face, it had gone well. You seemed to have a silent agreement that you wouldn't talk about anything that was happening outside of the classroom during the workday.

It was now Friday, last period, sixth-year NEWT students. They were all hormones and bravado but Snape had total control of them. You had a different perspective of his teaching now you were on the other side of the desk. No longer his pupil you admired his intelligence and his succinct guidance. However, niggling away at you was his need to be feared; he would never show pupils a sign of weakness. Even though it would help him gain more of their respect, though he didn't see it that way. In fact, he wouldn't hear it when you brought it up with him. Stubborn.

You watched as he explained and quizzed the pupils on the Draught of Living Death potion, then set them off on their task of trying to brew it for the first time. You watched on in amusement as Sopophorous beans were catapulted across desks. Snape must have seen the smirk on your face as he came up behind you, "I'm surprised you're not desperate to tell them the better method."

You shrugged, "It's important they experiment. They're NEWT level now, it's not good enough to just follow instructions blindly." His reaction was one of surprise and you rolled your eyes at him, "You've only seen me teach the younger ones, they need a more nurturing hand, but I'm not as soft as you think I am."

A hand shot up.

"May I?" You asked and he nodded his head in permission.

"Professor, l/n, I'm gonna end up choppin' my finger off because of this." The lanky redhead boy moaned, his friends laughed at him and sent their beans pinging.

"Then be very careful with your knife. Don't worry anyway, I'm sure between Professor Snape and me, we can reattach a finger or two." You waved in mock nonchalance. He laughed nervously and his bean flew across the table again. Catching it in both hands you handed it back to him.

The poor boy blushed and smiled at you, "Professor Lockhart is so lucky." Teenage boys had the subtlety of an elephant you thought as he looked down your top, "Don't you think he's a bit old for you, Professor l/n?" You scrunched your face up in protest, now blushing yourself but Snape got there before you.

"Mr. Higgins!" Snape hissed behind you; It made your spine tingle. "Watch your mouth AND your eye-line or you'll find yourself off this course. Do you understand?" The displeasure at the boy's display was evident and it attracted the attention of the rest of the class, though they didn't dare utter a word about it in front of their Professor.

"Yes, Professor Snape." He replied dully, dropping his head to look at the ingredients on his desk. Redder now that he'd been chastised. Snape walked back to the front of the classroom, eyeing the student's efforts as he went.

The rest of the class passed without issue. Not one pupil managed to brew the potion, though that was not surprising; it was only their first attempt. They rushed out of the classroom after groaning about the sheer amount of homework Snape had set them, but it was finally the weekend! You heard whispers carry down the corridor, talk of Lockhart, you, and now Snape. Brilliant.

You closed the door shut, sighed, and turned, leaning your back against the door. "I could have handled Higgins, you know?" You tried to tell him confidently.

Snape was clearing up parchments. He didn't bother to raise his head when you spoke, "I'm sure, " he nipped. You rubbed at your forehead, he was so irritating! What is your problem?

"Are you doubting me?" You questioned, your arms crossed at your chest.

"I may have many doubts about you Miss, l/n, but as I have seen first hand, handling yourself isn't a problem. What is a problem is a student of mine being distracted, whatever that distraction may be." His eyes scanned your body. Now, who's distracted, Professor Snape?

You pulled your eyes away from him, huffed, and stepped away from the door. "They're teenagers, they can't help their hormones, I'm sure you remember that. Besides, you're telling me that when you came to Hogwarts, at what? 23-24? You didn't have a few students try to sweet talk you?"

He stared at you, an unfamiliar look forming on his face. "Do I look like the type of teacher people would sweet talk?" He dropped some books on his desk which shot dust into the air - "And I was 21."

You raised your eyebrow, "Impressive...and you never know." Shrugging your shoulders you started walking towards the desk.

"Seeing as you seem to know everything, why don't you tell me? What interest did your airhead school friends have in me, exactly?" His stare was harsh, as was his tone. You had obviously struck a nerve.

You laughed "Airheads? Wow. Rude, Severus. I hope you excluded your present company in that assessment and as for which ones...I'm sure you could have told me that for yourself." The look on his face told you that he knew what you were talking about.

"This is a highly inappropriate conversation." He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a folder full of parchments, "These need to be marked for Monday."

"Sure" It came out as a huff but you didn't care. Grabbing the folder you knew that conversation was over for the day, "9 pm tomorrow night?"

"Fine." Don't sound so excited.

You walked to the door, opened it, and then found yourself hesitating to leave, Snape looked up after not hearing the door shut. "Is something the matter, Miss l/n?"

You looked at him, he was like you, you could see it. Broken but hiding behind a façade. You shook your head and left.

Snape stared at the Potions classroom door. He was meant to be creating distance between the two of you but every time it felt like it was working something started pulling you back. Had you really not learned that he was trouble? Did accosting you in a dark hallway really not give you a reason to be afraid of him? He thought back to two nights ago; your sweet breath mixing with his own and your chest pressed into him. It shouldn't have happened but being that close to you had weakened his resolve when it came to making you hate him.

He sat at his desk and stared at the spot you had taken to sitting yourself on when you were talking to the class. You had ignored his complaints about sitting there and carried on regardless. It had taken all his resolve not to stare at your backside while he marked the dull assignments his third-years had handed in.

His suspicions were fading but hadn't gone, if you were playing a role, you were playing it exceptionally well. A grimace etched itself into his pale skin; he was the last person to judge someone for their lies and deceit. Vibrations of irritation pulsed through him, he marched out the classroom and up to the main part of the castle, his robes billowing behind. He avoided students as best he could and knocked on a classroom door, it opened within a few seconds.

"Minerva, good afternoon. May I have a word?"