That night, Snape lay in his bed staring blankly into the void of his pitch black room. For Merlin's sake, it had only been a few days and he was already attached to the girl. He'd even been able to let himself forget his past and the debt he had yet to repay, if only for a few fleeting moments. But he knew it couldn't last. He didn't deserve redemption in any form, and he most definitely was not going to receive it from a child--especially not one of his students!
But Snape was forced to admit to himself that Hermione was no longer a child. She was already seventeen, and technically she was eighteen due to her experiences with the time turner. She no longer looked like a child either, he thought with a shudder. Mentally he chided himself. Was he really so desperate for human contact that he would allow himself to lust after the first girl who came close to him, even a student? And she hadn't even come to his home of her own free will! In his heart, Snape wanted so badly to at least play a father figure, to teach her, to speak with her and hear her response. But Hermione had too much of an effect on him. Perhaps anyone would have done this to him. Snape decided that he wasn't worthy of human relationships, and deemed himself unable to cope with even the most casual friendship. This had gone on too long. It was time to shut off Herm---the Granger girl.
The next morning, Hermione came down to breakfast as usual, but Snape didn't even bother to look at her over the rim of the Daily Prophet. She sensed something was wrong and asked him about it.
"Everything is fine, Miss Granger," he answered curtly, even harshly. Minny peeked around a corner and frowned at him, then looked to Hermione. They exchanged a confused glance. Hermione chose to ignore his harshness and sat down to eat.
"So, are we going to continue work with telepathy today?" she asked, testing the waters. He ignored her, and her jaw clenched.
"Severus, what is wrong with you this morning?" She was beginning to get angry. [I am Professor Snape to you, Miss Granger.] His voice sounded so cold in her head, and she wanted desperately to scream her current thoughts into the back of his mind.
[Fine, Professor Snape] she snapped mockingly, relishing the twitch in his hand. He hadn't thought she'd master telepathy so quickly. The girl really was a marvel. [Perhaps you are not as I had thought you were.] Snape looked up at her in reaction to the comment, and raised an eyebrow questioningly. [One would think that a star student was intelligent enough not to make ridiculous assumptions about her professors, especially when she is imposing on them in their own homes.]
[I thought you might have a soul underneath all of that arrogance, hostility, and bitterness, Professor Snape. Hell, I even thought I might get to like you. For the last few days, I did like you. Why were you nice to me, Snape? Because my parents are dead? I don't need to be babied by anyone, especially not a cold, heartless bastard like you. I'll remember not to assume next time that even people like you are human.] Hermione rose sharply from the table and left Snape sitting there, slightly bewildered and very unhappy with himself.
"Minny does not know what Master told Miss in her mind, but Master was obviously very stupid," snapped Minny, suddenly emerging from around the corner. "It is very stupid of Master to insult his friends." Snape was in no mood to listen to anyone, not even Minny.
"She is not my friend," he snapped. "I have none." He, too, left, taking a concealed flight of stairs down to his basement. He needed to be completely alone.
~~~~~~
Hermione was in her room, crying into one of her pillows. Why did this man's approval matter to her? He was Snape, the greasy, horrible potions master who had terrorized her for years. How had he hurt her so? She had expected this kind of behavior from the beginning, but she had let him disarm her. It had been a mistake.
But a nagging part of her told her she had not been mistaken in trusting Snape. Minny's conversation with her also resurfaced in her thoughts. Why was Snape trying to cut her off? Did he really think so poorly of her, or was it all a ruse to push her away? Confused, Hermione rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling once again. She asked herself once more just why this man's opinion mattered to her at all. And then she knew.
"Oh my God," she whispered aloud. "I'm falling for Professor Snape." Where had those emotions come from? Hermione tried to remember her classes with him, and realized that she'd always paid a little more attention to Snape than to her other professors when he lectured--and it wasn't because she feared his wrath. She had never admitted to herself that she enjoyed watching him glide across the classroom, his robes billowing behind him. Hermione had always relished the silky sounds of his voice, had always imagined how seductive it could be once purged of its customary malice. Of course, Snape could never return the sentiment. The most she could hope for was his friendship, and at this point even that seemed highly unlikely.
~~~~
Snape was facing a similar dilemma in the privacy of his basement, similar to the dungeons of Hogwarts. He was absentmindedly brewing a headache potion for himself, unable to help dwelling on Hermione. The hurt in her eyes this morning had crushed him, and her telepathic chewing-out had deflated the confidence and hope he had regained while back at home. He had even snapped at Minny! Snape hated himself. Hermione had even admitted to liking him during her time here--the first time anyone had ever said that to him. What had he done? Snape put his head in his hands, eaten away by guilt and self loathing.
Suddenly Snape was interrupted from his mental self-torture by something far worse. Gritting his teeth in pain, Snape shoved his left sleeve up to his elbow, revealing an angrily burning Dark Mark. "Oh shit," thought Snape. "Here we go again."
But Snape was forced to admit to himself that Hermione was no longer a child. She was already seventeen, and technically she was eighteen due to her experiences with the time turner. She no longer looked like a child either, he thought with a shudder. Mentally he chided himself. Was he really so desperate for human contact that he would allow himself to lust after the first girl who came close to him, even a student? And she hadn't even come to his home of her own free will! In his heart, Snape wanted so badly to at least play a father figure, to teach her, to speak with her and hear her response. But Hermione had too much of an effect on him. Perhaps anyone would have done this to him. Snape decided that he wasn't worthy of human relationships, and deemed himself unable to cope with even the most casual friendship. This had gone on too long. It was time to shut off Herm---the Granger girl.
The next morning, Hermione came down to breakfast as usual, but Snape didn't even bother to look at her over the rim of the Daily Prophet. She sensed something was wrong and asked him about it.
"Everything is fine, Miss Granger," he answered curtly, even harshly. Minny peeked around a corner and frowned at him, then looked to Hermione. They exchanged a confused glance. Hermione chose to ignore his harshness and sat down to eat.
"So, are we going to continue work with telepathy today?" she asked, testing the waters. He ignored her, and her jaw clenched.
"Severus, what is wrong with you this morning?" She was beginning to get angry. [I am Professor Snape to you, Miss Granger.] His voice sounded so cold in her head, and she wanted desperately to scream her current thoughts into the back of his mind.
[Fine, Professor Snape] she snapped mockingly, relishing the twitch in his hand. He hadn't thought she'd master telepathy so quickly. The girl really was a marvel. [Perhaps you are not as I had thought you were.] Snape looked up at her in reaction to the comment, and raised an eyebrow questioningly. [One would think that a star student was intelligent enough not to make ridiculous assumptions about her professors, especially when she is imposing on them in their own homes.]
[I thought you might have a soul underneath all of that arrogance, hostility, and bitterness, Professor Snape. Hell, I even thought I might get to like you. For the last few days, I did like you. Why were you nice to me, Snape? Because my parents are dead? I don't need to be babied by anyone, especially not a cold, heartless bastard like you. I'll remember not to assume next time that even people like you are human.] Hermione rose sharply from the table and left Snape sitting there, slightly bewildered and very unhappy with himself.
"Minny does not know what Master told Miss in her mind, but Master was obviously very stupid," snapped Minny, suddenly emerging from around the corner. "It is very stupid of Master to insult his friends." Snape was in no mood to listen to anyone, not even Minny.
"She is not my friend," he snapped. "I have none." He, too, left, taking a concealed flight of stairs down to his basement. He needed to be completely alone.
~~~~~~
Hermione was in her room, crying into one of her pillows. Why did this man's approval matter to her? He was Snape, the greasy, horrible potions master who had terrorized her for years. How had he hurt her so? She had expected this kind of behavior from the beginning, but she had let him disarm her. It had been a mistake.
But a nagging part of her told her she had not been mistaken in trusting Snape. Minny's conversation with her also resurfaced in her thoughts. Why was Snape trying to cut her off? Did he really think so poorly of her, or was it all a ruse to push her away? Confused, Hermione rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling once again. She asked herself once more just why this man's opinion mattered to her at all. And then she knew.
"Oh my God," she whispered aloud. "I'm falling for Professor Snape." Where had those emotions come from? Hermione tried to remember her classes with him, and realized that she'd always paid a little more attention to Snape than to her other professors when he lectured--and it wasn't because she feared his wrath. She had never admitted to herself that she enjoyed watching him glide across the classroom, his robes billowing behind him. Hermione had always relished the silky sounds of his voice, had always imagined how seductive it could be once purged of its customary malice. Of course, Snape could never return the sentiment. The most she could hope for was his friendship, and at this point even that seemed highly unlikely.
~~~~
Snape was facing a similar dilemma in the privacy of his basement, similar to the dungeons of Hogwarts. He was absentmindedly brewing a headache potion for himself, unable to help dwelling on Hermione. The hurt in her eyes this morning had crushed him, and her telepathic chewing-out had deflated the confidence and hope he had regained while back at home. He had even snapped at Minny! Snape hated himself. Hermione had even admitted to liking him during her time here--the first time anyone had ever said that to him. What had he done? Snape put his head in his hands, eaten away by guilt and self loathing.
Suddenly Snape was interrupted from his mental self-torture by something far worse. Gritting his teeth in pain, Snape shoved his left sleeve up to his elbow, revealing an angrily burning Dark Mark. "Oh shit," thought Snape. "Here we go again."