For weeks after that night, Hermione and Severus never mentioned what had
passed between them. Crookshanks routinely lectured Hermione, and Minny
seemed to be annoyed with her master. They did, however, seem to settle
into a comfortable friendship, and Hermione continued to learn at a
breakneck pace. Snape taught her things about potions that were beyond a
university student's comprehension, yet Hermione picked them up with ease.
He glowed with typical teacher pride, but he was starting to see her as his
equal rather than as his student-and Snape treated her that way. Hermione's
magic was mostly performed without a wand now, although she used it to
intensify her spells and give her a sense of security. Unfortunately, quick
as he was, Snape was having a hard time accessing his own power source.
Every day, he sat with Hermione and reached into himself, looking for a
resource that he knew was there but could not be found. He searched through
the dark, labyrinthine corridors of his mind, searching fruitlessly for the
power he sought. Little did he know he was looking in the wrong place:
magic does not originate in the mind, but in the heart. He did have an edge
over Hermione in something else, though-wizard's chess.
Of course, his advantage probably wouldn't last very long. They played every night, arguing spiritedly back and forth as their pieces gleefully mutilated each other. Hermione's wit was sharpening, and she was soon a match for Snape in any conversation, as well as in the art of sarcasm. Each time they played, Hermione came closer to defeating him, and he thought proudly that even Ron Weasley would never be a match for her next year-and Weasley played a mean game of wizard's chess. As they played, they also talked about everything under the sun, from issues in the wizarding world to the merits of muggle literature. She was as fond of poetry as he, and she contentedly devoured his volumes of Coleridge, Shakespeare and Poe. She also picked up most of the novelists, going through Thackeray's "Vanity Fair" in a shocking two days. They never tired of each other's company, and always ended their 'arguments' on an amiable note. Crookshanks always made a spectacle of deliberating over which of them he'd sleep with for the night. Hermione always caught the hint but wouldn't say anything. She wondered what Snape thought of the cat's antics.
Hermione had no idea how good she was for Snape. He smiled more, slept better.nightmares no longer plagued him so intensely, although sometimes he'd still wake in a cold sweat. He didn't scream in his sleep anymore. Intellectually she was an unparalleled joy. But now he felt a new kind of guilt-guilt because he allowed himself to relish her company and also because he knew he wanted something more. But she'd forced him to remain her friend through his debt to her, eliminating any possibility of retreat. Severus Snape never broke his promises, and so he couldn't break away from Hermione Granger.
Summer was soon two thirds over, and Snape could not grasp his magic at the source. This was considerably frustrating for him, but Hermione remained unwaveringly patient.
One night, Crookshanks had an idea. [Hermione, what Severus needs is something to scare him badly enough to find the magic automatically. What would make him concerned enough to do that?]
[I don't know, Crookshanks. I just don't know,] she replied after thinking for a while, but Crookshanks already knew. When Hermione finally fell asleep, he went to pay a visit to Minny.
Hermione would kick herself later for not noticing when her coffee tasted a little funny a few mornings later. But, trusting Minny's cooking, she drank it despite its 'off' quality. Snape seemed fine with his. Moments later, she was writhing on the floor, biting back screams of pain. She felt warm, strong arms lifting her and carrying her, then felt herself being placed on something soft, presumably a bed. Finally the pain was too strong for her and she slipped into unconsciousness. The last thing she saw was Snape's concerned face. His eyes crackled with a blue-black energy, shining with an unguarded torrent of emotion.
Of course, his advantage probably wouldn't last very long. They played every night, arguing spiritedly back and forth as their pieces gleefully mutilated each other. Hermione's wit was sharpening, and she was soon a match for Snape in any conversation, as well as in the art of sarcasm. Each time they played, Hermione came closer to defeating him, and he thought proudly that even Ron Weasley would never be a match for her next year-and Weasley played a mean game of wizard's chess. As they played, they also talked about everything under the sun, from issues in the wizarding world to the merits of muggle literature. She was as fond of poetry as he, and she contentedly devoured his volumes of Coleridge, Shakespeare and Poe. She also picked up most of the novelists, going through Thackeray's "Vanity Fair" in a shocking two days. They never tired of each other's company, and always ended their 'arguments' on an amiable note. Crookshanks always made a spectacle of deliberating over which of them he'd sleep with for the night. Hermione always caught the hint but wouldn't say anything. She wondered what Snape thought of the cat's antics.
Hermione had no idea how good she was for Snape. He smiled more, slept better.nightmares no longer plagued him so intensely, although sometimes he'd still wake in a cold sweat. He didn't scream in his sleep anymore. Intellectually she was an unparalleled joy. But now he felt a new kind of guilt-guilt because he allowed himself to relish her company and also because he knew he wanted something more. But she'd forced him to remain her friend through his debt to her, eliminating any possibility of retreat. Severus Snape never broke his promises, and so he couldn't break away from Hermione Granger.
Summer was soon two thirds over, and Snape could not grasp his magic at the source. This was considerably frustrating for him, but Hermione remained unwaveringly patient.
One night, Crookshanks had an idea. [Hermione, what Severus needs is something to scare him badly enough to find the magic automatically. What would make him concerned enough to do that?]
[I don't know, Crookshanks. I just don't know,] she replied after thinking for a while, but Crookshanks already knew. When Hermione finally fell asleep, he went to pay a visit to Minny.
Hermione would kick herself later for not noticing when her coffee tasted a little funny a few mornings later. But, trusting Minny's cooking, she drank it despite its 'off' quality. Snape seemed fine with his. Moments later, she was writhing on the floor, biting back screams of pain. She felt warm, strong arms lifting her and carrying her, then felt herself being placed on something soft, presumably a bed. Finally the pain was too strong for her and she slipped into unconsciousness. The last thing she saw was Snape's concerned face. His eyes crackled with a blue-black energy, shining with an unguarded torrent of emotion.