Chapter 11


'Severus, are you listening?'

He would very much like to not be listening in any case, but well, yes, he is listening. Partly, though he may be, he is listening to the professor next to him. His eyes may be focused on the other one, and a portion of his thoughts may be on that other one, but his ears have not all of a sudden blocked themselves off to the incoming stimulus of words that are directed towards him. He would not be able to call himself himself, if that were the current case.

'I am,' he answers in a low tone.

With that carefully chosen tone, he is deeply hoping that his colleague would carry on as she were, talking as she were, and paying nothing of attention to his eyes, and thus not using them as a guide to assume about his attention towards her. To put it simply, he would like for her to keep talking about her summer tales in unwanted excess, and so, keep ignoring the option of getting input from him. In doing that, she will leave him free to roam about in his thoughts, about the girl.

'Oh, well, in that case, I was telling you about my sister, wasn't I?'

'You were,' he answers her once again, not changing the level of his tone one bit.

And what does he know, his tone does encourage the woman to keep on as she was. A relief it is for him, that, because once again, he is free to allow part of his thoughts to return to the girl who left a reasonable impression on him of herself before the end of last term. Now, (and this is immensely important) while he would not go as far as to say that his opinion of her has changed in any significant way, he can, however, say that she did make a print of an impression on him, when she pushed him, to make the angry escape away from him.

There she is, his eyes carefully confirm. She's where his eyes last left her, although…

She seems to be worried about something, because she has looked around her at least three times already. Three hastily paced times, she rotated her entire head and most of her upper body, to search around her, but not once, did she happen to look just even a miscalculated angle too close to where he is. That in itself is not a startling revelation to him, no. In fact, he sees her behaviour as strategic. He recognises it as that, actually, and as it is, he has more than enough reason to believe that she's avoiding him.

His proof is that already on three separate occasions, this one being the fourth, she just 'happened' to not look his way, when he was pointedly looking her way.

If the natural effect wasn't of someone looking around, when pointedly being looked at, he would somewhat (at this moment, specifically) be inclined to believe that she is in fact not avoiding him. The way things have been, however… The collective amount of times, in the last six Potions lessons of her fourth year, how she didn't look his way, even as he addressed them as a class. His small appearance at the Order Headquarters towards the end of the summer, was also such a time where she refused to acknowledge him with her eyes.

Hmpf!

She may think that she is fooling him, but he is no fool. She ought to know that. Least of all, he is no fool to the tactics of children, who just months ago, still craved to have his approval.

'I wonder, Miss Granger…' he softly mutters to himself, still following her movements with his eyes.

'What was that, Severus?' the woman next to him mistakenly takes his words to be for her.

Clearly, she did not hear the name Granger, otherwise she would not have thought that he was talking to her. Although, on the other hand, that is an incorrect assumption, seeing as whether she heard the spoken name or not, she still would be curious to know what he said. In either event, he will still have to give the woman an answer to distract her away from him and his thoughts once again.

'I wonder, I said,' he repeats, deliberately leaving out the name of the person that his eyes are on.

'Well, as I said before,' his colleague readily answers him, apparently so self-absorbed that she cannot distinguish that his interest have nothing to do with her tale. 'It shouldn't come as a surprise to you that my sister would go through with living in a Muggle neighbourhood, Severus. She is who she is, and truly, nothing should make you wonder about her. She is fully capable of breaking her wand, if she desires to, that one.'

Why she has to repeat that, paraphrased, he has no idea, when he already heard her the first time that she said it, and most importantly, when his wonders has nothing to do with her at all. His wonder is solely directed at the restless girl at the Gryffindor table, and if she has some sort of notion about him in her head, that is worse than that which she had of him before, or if she's simply terrified of him for bearing the mark of the Dark Lord. Why does she avoid him so, then, if it's none of those?

'Hmm,' is the only thing that sounds from him after his short silence.

He means it for it to be an answer for the one talking to him, and also a form of no longer continuing his contemplation on the subject of Miss Granger. At some point or another during the term, they are bound to meet, alone, and so until then, he will take his eyes off her, thus dispelling her from his thoughts. That is, if the next time that his eyes accidentally find her figure again, his mind is not activated to bring her into his thoughts.


26Chapters


The first week passed.

At last.

How it passed, he cannot say, because between the foul Ministry woman, Umbridge, and Albus calling him for private meetings at least once every two days, in the hours that not even ghosts find pleasant to be active, it felt like each day had morphed into a singular millennium in its time. He honestly doesn't know how the days, Monday to Friday, passed to allow Saturday a chance at life, although, he is not complaining about it. He is, in fact, very grateful that he is allowed this fine day, this fine Saturday, to step outside of the castle walls.

Not often, does he submit himself to the pleasure of walking around the grounds for leisure's sake, except, since the unintentional joint forces of Albus and Umbridge against the peace of his soul, he couldn't resist the urge to submit.

Truly, the need is great this morning. It has been great from the moment that his eyes opened this morning, for the hour that he has been outside on the school grounds, and even now, as he is heading back inside the confining castle walls, the need remains great. There has always been one thing or another that presented itself as a priority in his life, more than his most secret desires. Never has he really given himself the grace to fully see to his secret desires, or even the basest of his wants. Not even into his adult years, did he.

Various priorities in his life, always managed to push his desires to the side.

At one point, his forced priority had been simply getting by in life, and then once he began school, it had been surviving the life situation at school. After he left school, it changed to burying himself in the more distinguished parts of potions and the dark arts, which much sooner than he would have liked, led to the priority of making stupid decisions, that he thought would gain him real favour…

Oh, he had been stupid then. Pathetic, quite honestly, if he is being truthful with himself.

The pathetic part of himself that sought validation and acceptance in the favour of others, especially those that he saw to be powerful above himself, is mostly the reason that he despises it when students make it a point to try and impress him. There is nothing wrong with ambition, that he will admit, however, when the likes of overzealous students do their best to gain validation from him, his mind always takes him back to his own pathetic state when he was younger, and how that has cost him until this very day.

The thing that he is not, to this day, able to communicate to his students when they do their best to try and impress him, is that in wanting to impress him, they could easily slip and fall into something that would haunt the rest of their days. Miss Granger especially, he would like to make understand that attempting to impress him, is precisely the thing that used to irritate him the most about her. Used to, because from the very last time that they were in a room together by themselves, something about her changed, and so far, he is more pressed to believe that she no longer cares for his approval.

That bothers him not one bit. On the contrary, it has left a small print on him, not even to make him respect her, but enough to make him wonder what she thinks of him now. Perhaps what goes through her mind about him now, is that she cannot be bothered to receive the praise of someone who serves the Dark Lord. When she precisely began her elves campaign, showing her dislike for all forced servitude and her perceived injustice, of course she probably will find it repulsive to be associated with the approval of someone evil.

Nonetheless, those are not thoughts that he should be thinking about at the moment.

He should rather think about whatever decadent confectionary he might be able to find in the kitchen this time of the morning, in the three hours before Saturday morning breakfast. As a good close to silent and peaceful leisure time, a danish, he believes. Inspired by the thought of that particular piece of food, he allows his feet to carry him in the way that he is to go. Once he realises that he has rather taken the long way around to the kitchen, it is too late to keep from seeing a cat run out from around a corner and then a second later, a student running after the cat, from around the same corner.

'Crookshanks, wait!' the student calls.

He's heard that name before, and definitely that urgent voice as well, which is why instead of stopping to wonder why she's running after the cat, he carries on walking, while they carry on with their cat and mouse game. Or should he say, their human and cat game. As they disappear from his sight completely, he unaffectedly continues in his steps, all the more determined to get to the kitchen to enjoy his breakfast before the rest of the castle begins to wake up.

It's odd, though, that he's not got it in his mind to wonder about her after seeing her.

Perhaps, for the fleeting sight of her, his mind could not really register her presence. It is no problem anyhow, because it doesn't disturb his movement. Without thinking of her, he easily turns his first corner. As he turns around the corner, he discovers the girl with her cat making a show of struggling from her hold.

Slightly curious, this second time of running into her, he pauses to watch the scene before him. The unprepared and uncharacteristic nature of what he is witnessing, something so outside of the usual students arguing, or being overly close with their oral parts attached to each other's, makes sure to make him remain where he is.

Quite literally, it's an endearing thing to see her struggle with her cat until she gives up the struggle, and lays it down on the floor. Apparently happy to be free, cat scurries away from her reach. It makes him smile, especially when she maintains one last time that she only wanted to show the cat something related to a magical thing that she finally perfected. He silently observes as she takes out her wand and waves it around her. She clearly says something, her moving lips say that much, but he doesn't hear what it is that she says. Following her display, a series of butterflies appear in the form of an arc on her side, and then they start flapping in a circle around her.

Would his eyes take a look at that!

Very few people in their lives as students, will ever understand that conjuring anything seemingly from air, is a limited art that requires a small storing ritual beforehand, and because he is seeing her conjure up live butterflies around her, he is, honestly, impressed. There is no other way to describe the awe that is expanding his chest, and slowing down his breathing, than to admit that he is impressed. He is not impressed by her skill per se, no. Her ability and skill is rather something that he is able to believe of her, which is to say that the thing that has him impressed, is that for one who always shows off her knowledge, this is unlike her.

To show something as magnificent as that, to a cat, with no else one around to applaud her for her excellent work, is different. So different, that yet another inkling of a print, is formed within him, concerning her.

That's the second print, he realises, and with that realisation, he wonders if maybe, he's getting too close to the girl, or she to him. Two prints on him, are a bit too familiar for a teacher and student relationship, are they not? Should he step away to regain the healthily distant connection that he once had with her presence? Magic knows that it would certainly be in his favour to go on about his way, leaving Miss Granger in the place where she had been before. Before he can fully give room to the little questioning part of himself, however, the cat looks on at the flapping insects with keen interest and then moves to rub itself against her bent leg, looking for attention, and there...

Right there.

That picture.

Seeing the cat's reaction now, after it had pushed itself away from her, to return once she produced a marvel of wonder, he could honestly just laugh a sturdy flow of sound. All the questions about being too close to discovering her as a human and not as an irritating student, disappear from his mind the moment that she absently reaches out to stroke her cat while maintaining her spell in place. Oh, he would laugh. He would laugh, because the Muggle notion of gravity, is simply a deception. Gravity makes one believe that since one is walking upright, able to make their body remain attached to the ground with perfect balance, they are in control of where to go, when to go, how to go, and yet here is.

He thought that he had power over the situation, able to walk away from it at any time that he chose, only, he lingered too long.

The sneak sight of a cat and its owner interacting, that's what has him touched beyond anything that he has felt in a few months. For that reason, he all of a sudden feels possessive and selfish. Possessive in that he's the one to witness this thing happening, and selfish in that he feels the undisputed right to claim this memory as his own.

It's decided, that will be his memory from now on, in all its endearing state.

It has nothing to do with the individual beings within the memory, it's rather just a memory that he's going to keep to himself. The value in what he just saw, touched him greatly. To think that he'd thought that a danish would be the perfect way to end his morning of relaxation. This is enough for him, although he will still take the danish to go with it.

This memory, he absolutely takes it as his own, and just as everything that he considers his own, he will attach it to his emotions. He is, after all, a man primarily dependent on the strong emotions that stand out most in his otherwise mundanely bleak life.


26Chapters


By the end of week two, he's had it up to here with that Umbridge woman. While he is on the subject of thinking about what he's had it up to here with, he's had it with wondering about Potter too. There remains the issue of Miss Granger doing her all to avoid him within his classroom and outside it as well, however, that is not as much a priority as the other two are. Miss Granger, until such a time as his binding to her compels him to seek her out, he will allow her whatever she wills, because for the moment, Dolores Umbridge and Harry Potter are the one stinking up his nostrils.

The boy particularly, he has seen how very different he has become. The details were told him through a third party, who had heard it from the Dark Lord himself, and so, he cannot confirm that they are all that accurate to the letter. Although, going by the event of details that were told to him, he can that way assume with near certainty, that the boy has never quite recovered from seeing someone that he knew die right in front of his eyes. That could be a plausible reason for the change in Potter, because otherwise, the knowledge of his godfather alive and away from Azkaban, should be enough to make him feel at peace in a sense.

He's had enough with wondering about the boy, though, seeing as he has no particular feelings of care and love for him. It's only by virtue of being Lily's son that Potter has unfortunately inherited his protection and shelter. It is definitely not from the goodness of his heart.

In the case of Umbridge… Oh, if he could stun her with a stunner that lasts until the entire school year is over. More than Quirrell had given him a bad feeling, Umbridge is in her own category. With the Ministry on her side, and her going around as though she is the very founder of the school, and so fitting in that capacity to makes decisions concerning staff and students alike, he really wishes that he could stuff her in trunk, lock it and then send her aboard the Hogwarts Express, for her to find herself in Muggle London. It would surely make his life less… Well, less of something, her absence will make him. And wonders it will do, that is for sure.


26Chapters


Since the school term began, the hardest for him so far, has to have been week number three. With simply everything, that week has been difficult. Honestly, between Order assignments and maintaining his composure in the presence of the Dark Lord, so as not give himself away, he felt at his most weak yet. And that was not even taking into account his forced servitude alongside Black and Lupin. Lupin, he has been able to stomach, but Black…

Sighing in the most silent of ways, he attempts to get his thought away from the previous week. There's torture in recalling the summary now, so he will not get into thinking about the actual things that he has had to put up with during last week. Also, there's another thing weighing his lungs down in the middle of this fourth week, and…

He should simply say that at present, the smallest flickers of his binding to Miss Granger is starting to touch him. If he is being honest, atop all the things that are happening with him, he doesn't have time to waste time in going to her. At this point, he is highly uninterested in her brewing for him, neither can he, in any way, accept more burden than he is already carrying. The problem unfortunately, is the gaping difference between what he cares for, and what he magically got himself into. He will have to do something about that, even if it means being the one to approach the girl avoiding him.


26Chapters


He is no stranger to be shut aside for doing the wrong at the most inopportune of times, but enough now, this is enough now. Just enough. He has put this off for long enough. He's also waited for her long enough, but she did nothing about it.

Part of it, part of why she has not come to him, he knows, has to do with how she shoved him the previous term. All of it doesn't matter to him anymore, if it ever did, because he is only interested in getting out of his binding to her. Only she has the power to release him, unfortunately, and that is the reason that he is currently walking from the staff table, down to her table.

His eyes remain specifically on her, in a way hoping to keep her pinned at the table until he arrives to talk to her. It his belief that if he chooses somewhere with just the two of them, she will most likely feel threatened, which is why he needs to speak to her in the Great Hall, during breakfast, with many students around to make her feel safe. Reaching directly opposite where she is sitting, he switches his eyes to look at Potter on her right side. By looking at Potter, he ensuring his presence being announced, without doing it himself. Once Potter looks at him, he will surely alert the other two on his right.

'Snape,' Potter slowly acknowledges upon seeing him

Not that he expected Potter to do more than disrespect him by omitting his professional title, but still, he raises both of his eyebrows in challenge at the blatant audacity.

'I mean...' Potter begins to correct himself, 'Professor Snape.'

'Potter,' he slowly says the name, taking the chance to make someone else but himself feel miserable for a change. 'Learn to mind only what concerns you.'

'You're looking at me,' Potter coldly returns through a hard expression.

Why yes, he looked at Potter, only so Potter could announce his presence to the one that he is looking for. He is not so daft as to directly look at her, who has been avoiding him all this time, without making his presence known first. Now that Potter has announced his presence to her, whether she chooses to accept that or not, he can turn his eyes back to her, and stare at her, knowing that the two boys who constantly surround her, are bound to get her to look at him, without him doing it himself.

'Hermione.'

Weasley urgently nudges her, because she has so far refused to look up from her nearly empty plate of porridge.

'What Ronald?' she coldly cries, something a little too aggressively, as though she knows exactly what is going on around her, but will do just fine to keep ignoring it.

'It's Snape,' he hisses in response.

Still, Miss Granger continues to physically behave as though that means nothing to her, and well, that is all well and fine with him. He too would like it very much if he wasn't here silently begging her to release him from the binding that he got himself into. It is simply a matter of him not being able to. At least, not for a very long amount of time, before he comes looking for her again.

'Hermione,' Weasley stresses, shaking her shoulder a little bit. 'Did you hear me? It's Snape.'

There is something in her immediate facial response that says she heard him perfectly the first time, but it's the cold tone asking, 'What about him?' that confirms his observation.

'He's looking at you,' he tells her, 'That's what!'

Honestly, with the callous way that she is acting, he is nearly expecting her to ask, 'So what?' and then run off and away from all of them. What surprises him -about himself, that is- is his patience with her through all of this. He understands that there is a small magical pull (it is merely started to itch), but this is not ordinarily him. His patience with her is minimally astounding, that for a moment, he wonders if the memory that he has of her, is coming into play at the moment.

He would very much prefer -and appreciate- it if that is not that case, because that memory is not a personal one of his, because she is in it. Basically, it is unrelated to her as a person, and it should have no right to insert itself into situations that are likely to get him to favour her. That is not why he stored the memory, and it is definitely not what he wants it to serve as. That is private, a memory that he has, and it is not to be used by his head, whenever it sees fit.

He looks right at her, feeling a mixture of confusion and irritation. Surely her ability as a witch has not advanced so much that she can produce patience from him. Has it?

His confusion continues to weigh more within him than his irritation, as she moves her head to the side just a little bit, and then only she looks up. She looks up at Weasley, though, not him.

Why, the nerve of her!

'Over there, Hermione,' Weasley's finger shows in the direction that she ought to be looking in.

It takes longer than a second, but eventually, she does look at him. It's not a surprise that she is not surprised to find him looking at her, although, he surprises himself by expecting to hear her say, 'Professor,' only to then remember that since she has clearly been avoiding him, she will not initiate anything with him.

The. Nerve.

The girl is really going to… Her hard expression, obviously fixed to tell him that she is not going to give him more than he requires, is enough to communicate that she is really going to make him be the one to speak first. Well, if it means being free of her, he might as well do it in a way that will cut her inside.

'Your timetable, Miss Granger,' he says, mimicking the cold tone that she has taken to using.

Almost immediately, she quickly moves to work on something next to her, searches for something in there, pulls it out and once she straightens up, she hands parchment over to him. Accepting it, he smoothly runs his eyes over it, to find that it's just and as he expected that it to be. Unlike last year, where the students were afforded many more free periods for the benefit of including the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons pupils, this year's free periods have been reduced significantly. But yes, free periods, she still has.

'You obviously have open periods,' he points out.

That is what he calls bait.

And she deserves to be baited.

What he wants her to understand, or rather, interpret, is that he apparently cannot understand why she hasn't come to construct a brewing schedule with him yet. Putting the real fact that he has mentally already circled the free days and periods that match his on her timetable, he only wants her to believe that he is looking for her to come back. In reality, he is only baiting her to refuse his 'offer,' which will free him from his binding, also giving him a chance to make her feel miserable in the process.

For all of the patience that she has pulled out of him, he wants to rub it in her face that he knew the day would come, when she would not want to continue with him, and he would taunt her for the lazy failure that she proved to be.

She responds with nothing, however. Absolutely nothing, and that irritates him. Had she held out her hand to get her timetable back, it would be something else, but this… Silence, no reaction, no strengthened facial expression... It's irritating. Irritating, because what is she? Who is this, that he is looking at? All right, she has been avoiding him, but to keep silent this way, as though she is afraid to say the wrong thing? Who is she suddenly? Where is the upset and disturbed girl who awed him with her stamina, when she pushed him and his mark out of her sight?

He cannot bear to look at her anymore. Not when she doesn't have the strength to look him in the eyes and tell him that she has no intention of continuing with him.

'How unsurprising,' he says, searching for a way to get a reaction out of her.

The reaction that he receives, is a frown, for the smallest amount of time. And then, unannounced, her face changes, taking on the very look of anger that she gave him back then.

'I knew this day would come,' he says to her, taking advantage of the anger showing on her face. 'I knew that you would be afraid to speak the words that we both know you are itching to say.'

Another frown, more of a scowl, really, is what she answers him with, but she should know that she has no reason to look at him as though he is committing a crime against her, when she is the one ignoring him as though he does not exist. While he would normally be glad that she is ignoring him, when she holds his freedom in her speech, he does not appreciate her ignoring him. This is madness with her. He will need for this to end once and for all, so that he will only have to deal with her in the classroom.

'What are you waiting for? Say what you need to say, Miss Granger!'

After he speaks the last of his words, more than before, she heightens her look of anger, just before she suddenly rises from her seat, grabs her bag and then turns on all of them to walk away. As he is quite unable to fully accept that she just left him without giving up her brewing first, he blankly stares after her for a moment.

This girl.