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Disclaimer: I don't own anything that looks familiar to the world of Harry Potter.
The next few days passed in a blur for Hermione with her time split between lessons and the continued construction of her miniature Hogwarts model. Minerva had agreed to the idea of auctioning the model for a sum which would be channelled towards providing a fund for students who needed financial aid. Hermione was a bit nervous because she wasn't sure if anyone would buy it. But Minerva had assured her it was worth trying since some of the alumni were quite wealthy.
Her classes had already ended for the day and she was in the staffroom, sitting at the far corner while working on the model. Pomona and Flitwick had come by to help her at different times but now she was quite alone. It was approaching dinnertime so most of them had either returned to their rooms or were preparing to join the students in the Great Hall. She knew she should head back soon. Snape had accosted her earlier in the day and more or less ordered her to have dinner with him.
"Have dinner with me?" asked Snape. "Come to my office at 7 p.m. Dress comfortably."
Without waiting for her reply, he strode off towards the dungeons. Hermione felt rather miffed that he assumed she would want to even have dinner with him alone but she was a little curious as to why he had invited her for dinner. In his office, too.
She packed up and went back to her rooms. After freshening up and changing into comfortable clothing, she wrapped her cloak around her just as a precaution before grabbing her bag and making her way to the dungeons via the very same deserted stairwell.
This time, she checked there were no students or Slytherins milling about the dungeons before stepping out of the passageway and rapping quickly on Snape's office door.
His voice came from within immediately. "Enter."
She stepped in and untied her cloak, tossing it over her arm as the door shut softly behind her. Snape was packing some stuff into boxes and straightened upon her entry.
"Hello," said Hermione. She immediately noticed he was wearing a long-sleeved green and white t-shirt over maroon slacks. "A bit too early for Christmas, isn't it?"
"Any day could feel like Christmas if one felt like it." Snape's eyes roved over her, taking in her printed t-shirt and plain pyjama bottoms. "I don't recall inviting you to … sleep over at my place." He dragged out the last part of this sentence as if he had never actually said something similar aloud before.
Hermione felt a warmth creep up her neck. "You said to dress comfortably so here I am."
He had moved over to a large tapestry and tapped it with his wand. "Well, I hope you don't have the intention of making yourself too comfortable in my … rooms."
Yet again, Hermione felt a little bothered. "Certainly not."
She followed him as he pushed a door she hadn't noticed behind the tapestry and slipped through. "Don't you think you should have waited for my response without assuming I would really want to dine with you in the dark?" asked Hermione huffily as she set her bag down on the floor and hooked her cloak on the rack.
"It's hardly dark in here." He waved his wand and the light bulbs glowed even brighter than they already were, so much so that Hermione thought she might need a pair of sunglasses. "Happy now?"
"Is this how you secretly tan your body without going to the beach?"
"I'm not sure which part of my body you are referring to. The parts generally visible for viewing are undoubtedly lacking any … tan."
"It's just a joke." She huffed and sat down on the armchair. Snape's lip curled in amusement as he disappeared behind a doorway.
"This looks smaller than my living room." There was a faint smell of food coming from within.
"You speak as if it's your first time here in my parlour." His voice came in reply.
"I hardly hang about your parlour. I always go straight in. Feels like a first visit all over again."
"Are you seeking an invitation to explore the inner areas?"
"Hardly. Don't flatter yourself. I'm sure no guest would be interested in what lies beyond the parlour."
"I don't make a habit of inviting unwanted guests over that frequently."
"I'll take my leave then. Thanks for wasting my time." Hermione stood up and made to leave.
"Sit down."
She didn't know how he knew she was standing but she sat back down anyway. "Are you cooking?"
"I was. Almost done now."
"Surprising. I thought you'd get the elves to supply something."
"I'm perfectly capable of handling my own food when I have the rare guest." He came back out again, a tray of food hovering in mid-air behind him. He set the dishes on the table and took a seat opposite her, spreading his arms out. "You may help yourself as you please."
For a brief moment, Hermione wondered if he meant she should help herself to the food or to him? For now that she could see him clearly in brighter lighting, he was quite the refreshing sight in something other than the usual black. And she could see the broadness of his shoulders as it narrowed down to his waist before the rest of his body was hidden by the table. All so vivid when he was devoid of his usual stuffy uniform.
"What now?" Snape frowned when she didn't say anything.
Hermione closed her gaping mouth. "You have quite the body under all those layers of clothing."
"Still going on about my body, I see." Snape sneered.
"You're wearing something different. The colour combination of the t-shirt and pants, however," paused Hermione, wrinkling her nose.
"You're quite the icon of fashion in your get-up."
Hermione grinned as she helped herself to servings of what looked like rice, roasted vegetables and some gravy she hadn't seen before.
"That's lamb curry," said Snape, serving himself after Hermione had taken what she wanted.
"Right. At least the colour combination of the food goes well together." Hermione spooned a mouthful and chewed. "Your cooking is surprisingly good."
"Why would it be surprising? It's requires much less skill as compared to brewing a perfect potion."
She rolled her eyes. "Show-off."
"I am good in many things. But I admit I'm not well-versed in the area of … fashion."
"That has always been evident."
Snape's eyes narrowed. "And what do you mean by that?"
"You're always in the same outfit every day of the year. I can't even figure out where your buttons start and end because everything is in black."
"Why would it matter to you where my buttons start and end?"
Hermione's cheek turned pink. "I just meant to say your shirt and outer coat are indistinguishable from each other."
"Potions is a messy subject with so many dunderheads around. If I wore any other colour, I'd have to go shopping far too regularly for my liking."
"But surely you have outer clothing in different colours?"
"Are you seeking an invitation to check the wonders of my wardrobe?"
"I'm just asking," replied Hermione, flustered. She cleared her throat. "Do I at least get the honour of knowing what was so important that we needed to dine in the dungeons? Just the two of us?"
"I need you to do me a favour."
"So this is what this is." She waved her hand over the table in a circular motion.
"For the next two months, I'll need someone to stand in for my classes on certain days. Not every day. But about one to two classes every fortnight."
"So you're bribing me then?"
"Yes and no. Minerva suggested you would be the most suitable candidate."
"Not Dujardin?"
Snape's cheek twitched at the mention of the French witch. "While she graduated top of her batch at Beauxbatons, similar to your academic achievements at Hogwarts …" then he paused. "I'm certain even if you didn't possess the confidence to teach Potions, you would at least emulate me if you really needed to. It's relatively similar to how you have always memorised books from cover to cover."
"So you actually think I've memorised the way you teach your classes?"
"Subconsciously, yes. For instance, if you were to teach the first years how to brew the Draught of Living Death, I'm sure you would find yourself referring to how I taught you back when you were in your first year."
"You have too much confidence in my memories. Besides, I wouldn't bully the students like how you did all those years."
"You remember well then."
Hermione tried to do her best mimicry of Snape. "'Insufferable know-it-all.'"
His lip curled in the corner. "If you weren't literally jumping on the balls of your feet just to answer every single one of my questions, you wouldn't have been so insufferable."
"But you asked a question and I knew the answer."
"It wouldn't matter, Granger. If you notice, I often call upon a random student to answer my question. In that pattern, I would have eventually called upon you to answer a question. And if you had been able to answer it word-for-word like how it is written in the text, I would have known that you did do your readings. While your other professors may have appreciated your … unbidden enthusiasm for their subjects, I did not."
"Whatever it may be, you were horribly mean to all of us."
Snape sighed. "I might be a great Occlumens but that doesn't mean that I could have always prevented The Dark Lord from viewing my mind. While I never allowed him to penetrate into the depths of my mind and all the secrets I carried, it was far easier to have memories of … terrorising students to show him if he wanted to see what I did daily. It would have been rather suspicious if I had been overly fond of the boy who caused his downfall many years ago or even a muggle-born."
Hermione considered this for a moment. "So you mean to say you did it on purpose?"
"Yes and no. I had to keep up a certain appearance about myself. And any attachment would have only made me more vulnerable so I might have actively said those … cruel words to create a distance between myself and those I needed to protect." He paused. "I apologise for my words though I daresay I was merely stating the facts."
"Rather harshly," retorted Hermione.
Snape smiled.
"I am aware about the classes, by the way. Minerva mentioned them to me when I talked to her a few days ago. I just didn't expect it would be so soon," said Hermione.
"The first one would be tomorrow, in fact."
Hermione choked on her food, tears forming in her eyes. Snape reached out to thump her on the back as she clutched at her chest. She shook her head wildly. "I'm not mentally prepared!"
Snape's hand moved from her back to her forearm in a swift motion. "If there is anyone I know who would be prepared, it is you. You may very well be the only person other than me who could teach several subjects. There is no cause for any worry on your part. In fact, I'll show you the syllabus later so you feel more assured."
But Hermione had drifted off in the middle of his verbal reassurances. Her mind was distracted by the heat from his palm, the way his fingers wrapped around her bare arm as if it was a natural resting place and the gentleness with which his thumb stroked her skin in the most comforting manner.