Disclaimer: I do not own this or any other universe, but I like to live in them anways.
I'm really sorry that I am such an idiot, but I made a couple of transportational errors in the previous chapter. They have now been corrected, but I know I rarely go back and read these, so I better just tell you what they were: firstly, Hermione walks to her office, not Apparates, and doesn't bring her wand, secondly, she portkeys into the library. Those are the big ones that have impact on the story. I really need to finish editing this, post it, because I still have all my gifts to wrap and its almost midnight. Damn. Please give me a present even if you hate it and REVIEW;) And also, have a great Christmas and holiday.
Hermione yawned and stretched, arching her back until the stiffness from sitting hunched over was pulled lout of her muscles. She chuckled a little, thinking of how many times she had gone back to her room at Hogwarts and been unable to find a comfortable spot on her bed because she'd spent the entire day seated and researching. It had taken her rather a while to realize she simply had to take breaks and walk around the library, which of itself was interesting. In fact, all wizarding buildings still seemed something of a novelty to her. She gazed around at the place that felt like home to her, that just felt *right* whenever she was there. Although it did tend to shift around a rather lot. Over to her right, next to an enormous dark oak bookshelf, stood several suits of armor who occasionally served for an interesting chat or two. In front of her was an entire wall filled with bookshelves, and a balcony containing even more. In front of her stood a bank of ornate desks in all styles, and with as many features as can be imagined. Some had spell check features built in, others contained direct connections to the library database, which worked similarly to a muggle library's computerized one. And then there were the odder things, like the desk Hermione had mistakenly set some food down on. It had begun reading off the nutritional information. And yelling at her for it. Hermione shuddered, remembering that that day there had been someone else in the library. She wasn't sure who, but they had been wearing a dark cloak, and the hood was pulled up so that when the figure had turned to her in annoyance, it had looked disturbingly like the Ghost of Christmas Past from the muggle tale by Dickens. Speak of other people… She heard Alby's voice with rather a joyous sound to it, and the returning murmur of another. There were very few people she had ever seen Alby react to at all. In fact, only herself. Curious, though the adage about the cat filtered through her mind, she moved from the recess with the desks to the librarian's console near the main entrance. As she got closer, she heard a snippet of conversation and quickly garnered both who was speaking and who the bastard was speaking about! Pathetic, indeed. Lost all competence? Her!? She felt herself filled with outrage and before she could check herself, although she wasn't so sure she wanted to, words burst from her mouth is a soft, deadly way.
"Have I, Professor?" She hid a smile when she saw his back stiffen in recognition of her voice after a few moments. "Hm, perhaps we oughtn't go about spouting how hopeless other people are, now should we?" He had turned to face her now, an impassive look upon his face. She itched to punch it, if only to get some reaction from him. "After all, such a man as yourself should never be accused of being so inconsiderate. I was about to leave for my pathetic apartment, so if you will excuse me, I would like to collect my pathetic coat and go back to my pathetic life, where, you have no doubt decided, I live pathetically alone." She sneered at him as she tried to brush past him, having already had her belongings in her arms. She was stopped by a long fingered hand gripping her wrist. She tried to wrench free, but it was to no avail. Her wrist merely hurt the more she tried to struggle. Eventually, she desisted and glared up at her tall ex-professor's face. "What?" she snapped.
He released her wrist and stepped back to give her some space.
"I'm sorry," he said simply. "I didn't realize that you were there." Rather than having the effect of appeasing her, it did the opposite, Severus soon realized with a slight feeling of dread as storm clouds gathered on her features. He shot a Look at Alby, as he could see the man was struggling to keep himself from giggling.
"And it would have been perfectly all right if I'd never have known? If you had doubted my abilities to handle the research, you ought to have simply told me and left." She stressed the last word in hope that he would get out of her way and allow her to go.
"You looked too…well, yes, pitiable-." He was immediately cut off- by a slap. His eyes went wide as he stared at his furious former student. Her lips had tightened into a furious line and her very hair seemed to shout her anger into the otherwise silent room.
"That was definitely a mistake, Miss. Granger." His tone was low and silky, the deadly one that terrified students compared when they were later lucid to the cobra before it strikes. Suddenly, the spell was broken by Alby's voice.
"Sorry about this, but its closing time." The cheerfulness was repugnant to both occupants of the room, who were occupants no more, as Alby clapped his hands and tossed them both out of the library. It was one of the unique powers of magickal librarians to be able to toss anyone they wish out of the library and anywhere within a five mile or so radius of the place.
Severus and Hermione soon found themselves standing on a dark street corner somewhere in the midst of Muggle London facing each other with similarly shocked expressions. Although neither of them could see the other's face, as Alby had thrown Hermione's coat out along with her and it had landed, rather unfortunately, upon Severus's head. By the time he had wrestled it off, they had both regained their composure- and furor. He held the piece of cloth out to her icily, and she took it silently in an equally disdainful grasp.
"Goodbye, Professor, although I can't say that it was a pleasure meeting you." She turned away from him with a stiff incline of her head, only to realize that she had no earthly idea where she was. And her wand was back at the apartment, as she had gone to the library from work and it was pointless to bring her wand to work with her. She had also become aware of her surroundings; this was obviously not a very nice part of town, and she could hear the sound of breaking glass somewhere near by, and clanking of what sounded like a chain link of fence. The side walk was littered with stuff she had probably rather not know of, and the only light in the neighborhood seemed to be the one behind her, where presumably Snape was still standing. She felt a cool breeze whistle by, and then she heard a threatening voice from the shadows somewhere in front of her.
"Hey baby, I wouldn't be out here if I was you. You never know what might leap out of the shadows." The statement was followed by low, menacing laughter from more than one man, and she sensed movement. Hermione shrieked and ran as fast as she could back to the light and the figure standing there.
Snape was pissed. First, Granger had dared to slap him, then Alby had actually thrown him out of the library, and for no reason that he could tell. He had gathered at once that this was not a particularly nice area of town, but the girl could take care of her own damn self. He turned around and prepared to Apparate, not sparing a thought as to why she hadn't done the same, when he heard her scream, and then the sound of fast footfalls clattering toward him. He could also make out the sounds of a few pairs of heavy boots, a little further away than the girl's. He whirled back just in time to watch the girl stumble on a broken bottle and come crashing towards the cement. He leaped forward to stop her from hitting, grabbing her in time for them both to see the demented grins on several men's face's and the flash of metal in their hands. Severus's survival instincts kicked in and he Apparated them away to the first place he thought of.
Because he had never done this with another person, although he had had to do it several times himself, he miscalculated. Just a little. Instead of arriving on the doorstep of his house, he was in the chest-deep moat, as was Miss. Granger. Well, it was chest-deep to him. On the much smaller girl it was way past her head. She was struggling to gain footing and trying helplessly to hold her bag over head, not wanting its contents wet. Severus reached over and took the bag from her grasp and grabbed her by the arm, leaving her to sort of doggy paddle with one arm along with him as he strode out of the muddy water and pulled them both up onto the bank. The night air was cooler than in day, but it was still quite warm, luckily for them both. Hermione was sputtering and gagging from the water she had inadvertently swallowed, but that didn't stop her from giving him the death glare of the century. Her clothes were soaked through…but so were his. He gave her the glare right back. Finally, she was able to breath fairly normally. Once she spoke, he wished she was still gasping for breath.
"What the fuck did you do? Are you deficient or something? And where are we? You bastard! Do you even know where we are? You could have fucking splinched us! My head could have fucking ended up in the Minister's soup and the rest of me in an igloo in Alaska, all thanks to your stupidity! Or did you try to drown me on purpose for some sick, twisted reasons of your own? Answer me!" Her voice was scratchy and it was obvious that she was beyond upset, but Severus couldn't resist.
"I would answer you, my dear, if you weren't acting like the spoiled little brat I had to teach for seven years. And if you didn't swear quite so…" he suddenly remembered something," FUCKING HELL! BLOODY FUCKING…" He trailed off in frustration, running his hand through his long black hair, accidentally flicking more water onto Hermione's already wet face. She brushed it off slowly, the eye contact making the movement seem almost life-threatening.
"What?" She made the words sound as sharp and irritated as she could.
"We…are stuck here. For tonight, at least." At her perplexed look, he realized clarification was most likely necessary. "You see, there are heavy anti-Apparition wards up on my entire estate, and the walk to get outside them would take hours. It is the middle of the night here, as well."
"Then how the fuck did we get here?" she inquired abrasively.
"A certain unique feature of the house; if someone of the family blood tries to Apparate when the wards are up but they are desperate to get in, it overrides the wards. It's very handy, but I think the house was surprised at my bringing along another person, hence the moat accident. But it also leaves us with no way to get out. Whenever this has happened to me, I stay a little while in the house and then, when I feel like it, I walk outside the wards and Apparate. Such is the plan I propose for us now." Hermione gave him a look of pure disbelief and shock.
"You have got to be kidding me. Don't you have any Floo powder?"
"Not connected to the Network."
"Take down the wards?"
"Dumbledore's."
"Broomsticks?"
"I believe my first broomstick ever might be around here somewhere. Of course, I can't couch for its reliability, but feel free-."
"Horses?"
"No."
"Car?"
"No."
"Well…what about-."
"No. Miss. Granger, you are free to walk alone. Just down that big road-."
"No wand."
"Oh, so that's why you didn't Apparate before." Then the realization of what she had said hit him. "YOU WEREN'T CARRYING YOUR WAND?!?!"
"No. No reason to at work, and you know you Portkey to the library using your card, seeing as the building moves all the time."
"You know you're staying here until it gets light? Then we will walk to the edge of the estate and get home."
She nodded, if rather sullenly. Snape nodded back and swept into the gloomy castle, set in Greece. As he entered the house, the charms he had set caused all the lights in his most-used rooms to turn on and cool air to begin circulating throughout them. However, at the moment, they were dripping on the marble floor his mother had never let him step on. He sneered and dripped some more, until he remembered that he was an adult now, and that he would have to clean it up.
"I don't keep a house elf, and don't expect me to act like one," he said brusquely. She gave him a curious look.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm rather obviously not…oh. Because they annoy me. Always too eager to do their job. They get under my skin. Like certain former Gryffindor Head Girls I could name," he replied with a significant glance at her as he muttered an accio. A small bundle of clothing flew at him and he grabbed the black cloth out of the air a moment before it hit Miss. Granger, who had turned right into it's path.
He held one of the robes out to her. The he looked at it, then looked at Granger, then looked at his robe again, then looked at the tiny girl in front of him again. He crinkled his forehead and quickly transfigured them into something more her size. And while he was at it, he made them a little more feminine as well.
Hermione smiled when he handed her the clothing, charmed by his thoughtfulness. All his earlier manner was forgotten for the moment and she looked around at the enormous receiving hall, noting the sweeping staircase straight ahead.
Snape followed her gaze, and, charmed by her smile, her earlier behavior forgotten, offered the girl his arm. She took it lightly, and he walked her up the stairs, ignoring the wet fabric of her sleeve. His own was wet anyways. They turned right, down a light pink hallway, and to the bedroom he remembered vaguely. He rarely used this house, let alone the female guest wing, but this room was where his mother had always put her favorite people. Which actually was probably a warning rather than a recommendation, but he had no other idea as to where to put the girl. He opened the door and peered into the unlit room. Unable to make out anything, he pulled out his wand to light the room, pleased with the girl's awed intake of breath until he looked around. The room was horrible! A solid mass of frills and ruffles, the enormous bed was little more than a decoration. He certainly could not think of sleeping in it. The entire room was decorated, in a disgusting attempt at unity, in an unrelenting shade of eye-smarting pink, and the walls held lurid pictures of such sickly sweet scenes as fat cherubs winging about on surrealistic clouds and virginal unicorns riding into colored breezes. He nearly gagged, but decided not to offend Hermione's taste. Although he wasn't so sure that he gave a damn if she liked this.
"Well, once you have changed- and feel free to freshen up or what have you, meet me down in the Entrance Chamber and I will show you to the kitchen. An hour should suffice." Wondering what had changed him back to the stiffly formal person, Hermione nodded mutely and closed the door as he exited. The first order of business was to get out of these wet things. She stripped as she looked around at the ghastly room where she would be spending the night. It was so overdone, she felt like she would suffocate from the oppressive frizzles that bedecked the room. Thank goodness Professor Snape had taken her horrified gasp for one of awe, although she was rather surprised that he was so proud of this room. Well, different strokes for different folks, she thought as she wandered idly through the door on her left to inspect the bath room. It too was the same eye-smarting pink, and the tub was made of a slick material that felt wrong to her skin. Still, she wanted a bath, so she ran the water and found a washcloth and soap. Drying her hair while looking in the mirror, she was rather shocked when it began to speak.
"So, you're the one. Severus hasn't brought anyone here since he inherited this house. At least we don't get dirty with disuse, seeing as how he was at least thoughtful enough to put annual cleaning charms on. You're pretty enough, I suppose. Pureblood, of course. You'll have to do." Hermione was speechless for several reasons, the first one being that she had never known that a mirror could sound so snobby.
"I most certainly am not 'pureblood'" she answered indignantly.
"Oh. Mudblood, are we? Well, you never know, Severus may actually plan on keeping you around for a bit until he finds someone…suitable." Hermione's skin crawled at hearing the blatant prejudice and she backed out of the room. On the other side of the room was a wardrobe, a dark wood thing which spat words out at her.
"Running away, are we? Perhaps it's that thin blood of yours. You know, there has never been someone as lowly as you in this room."
"We aren't so sure we like this arrangement, Mudblood." The nightstand chipped in in a similarly supercilious tone. Hermione pulled her robe tighter around her and turned in a circle, wondering where the next attack would come from.
"You won't last long here, with him. And I'd be very careful when I shut my eyes tonight; no one in this house likes your sort," the door spoke menacingly. Hermione would have laughed if they weren't all so convincing. It was all too much like that day that she had stood in the center of a circle of bloodthirsty Death Eaters. Praying that this was worth it, that Harry and Ron would get the time they needed. The cherubic face of the large picture on the wall turned vicious and snarled at her, and Hermione, whose nerves had decayed in the basement research room, just ran out of the room. But there were pictures on all the walls, all chanting the same words along the lines of "filthy mudblood, go home." Hermione couldn't help but give a scream, pressing herself against the slender portion of the wall that contained no portraits, eyes wide with fear.
Severus exited the room as soon as he could, muttering a quick spell to mop up the water they had dripped on the floor. He walked down the hall to the family portion of the house, finally getting to his bedroom. He refused to take the master bedroom. That would always be his father's, and he would never be his father. He stripped the wet clothing from his body and strode into the bathroom for a quick shower. A few minutes later, he was drying his hair and dressing in clothes more suitable for dinner, remembering to transfigure something for her. The robes has simply been a quick solution. Just as he was about to check the clock that stood on his bedside table to see how much longer he had until he was to meet Hermione, he heard her scream. He ran as fast as he could down the hall, straining his ears to find a clue as to what had caused her to react so. It wasn't difficult. He could hear the threats and chants his paintings were throwing at the poor girl. He had to wonder what had caused him to be so stupid as to place a Mud…muggleborn girl in a wing his that his parents and their associates had favoured. Then again, there wasn't a place here that wouldn't react to Hermione like this. Except for his rooms. By this time had had reached the girl, driven flat against the all by the insults, eyes darting wildly for an escape. As he approached, he heard the immediate extinction of all sound save Hermione's harsh breathing. He slowed down once he was near her, trying to be as non-threatening as possible.
"They were- they were… Never mind. Never mind." Hermione struggled to regain her composure, eventually succeeding with typical Gryffindor perseverance.
"It's all right. They're terrible bigots, but the situation has never come up. I try to avoid this place as often as I can, so I've never gotten around to replacing these ghastly furnishings. He felt a picture sneer at him behind his back, and he incinerated it without a second thought, grabbing Hermione's arm and pulling her, shock-still, away from the smoldering ruin. As they walked, he felt her begin to relax and begin a normal breathing pattern.
"Still, I overreacted. After we eat, I'm sure I can just go back there and rectify things." Sure, although her heart was racing at the very thought of having to face the accusing, sneering voices again.
"Most certainly not. You will be staying in my rooms. They are, unfortunately, the only rooms in the house, including other than bedrooms, which do not contain purist furnishings." Hermione stopped stock still and looked at him with confusion, revulsion, and…fear (?) in her eyes.
He arched an eyebrow at her and smirked. "I will take the rooms across from the hall. She nodded, quickly tailoring her features to read only polite interest in whatever he was saying. Severus suppressed a smile. When they got to the top of the stairs, he paused to tell her that he would show her his rooms, where he had transfigured something more suitable for eating dinner in.
Hermione closed the door after Severus Snape once again, still feeling a little insecure as she looked at the room. It was sparsely furnished, dominated by a gorgeous wooden four poster with heavy draperies. One window overlooked a forest and a lake she could vaguely make out in the scanty moonlight. The lighting was of elegant candle sconces in the walls, and they lit interesting, but not intimidating, shadows on the remaining furniture; the large desk and the table beside the bed. She also noted a wardrobe that looked nothing like the one in her former room stationed in a corner. It was a little odd that although he obviously owned the house, and was equally obviously the only person who lived in it, that he did not have the master bedroom, but he had always been strange. She stared down at the bundle of clothing in her hand and shrugged, figuring she might as well change quickly and not keep him waiting. Him...she had never thought she would react to her former Potions Master as she had. Even in her terror, when he had come running to her rescue, with the top two buttons of his shirt undone, she could not help but, well, check him out. He was just so gorgeous! Dressed casually, but perfectly again, in black cotton pants and a white collared shirt, she may have been frightened beyond belief when he had told her where she was sleeping, but that certainly didn't mean she hadn't considered it. She looked at herself in the full length mirror which appeared as she turned around looking for one. Her hair was all right, though it would be frizzy without end since she had no brush. She didn't really care about her makeup, but the outfit he had transfigured for her was wonderful. With a short sleeved top and a calf-length skirt, the entire ensemble was a very complementary shade of cream. He had even remembered a pair of matching high heels. She smiled at herself, and then realized that she really wanted a toothbrush. The door to the bathroom opened by itself, and Hermione stared at it a moment, wary. Still, it wasn't as though she was unfamiliar with taking risks, and this was a very small one in the grand scheme of things. She walked into the bathroom, admiring the style and elegance of the distribution of furnishings, before her gaze fell upon the counter and the toothbrush and paste that lay there next to a splendid hairbrush. She grinned and quickly finished getting ready for dinner, then walked quickly out to the Entrance Chamber, he had called it. She enjoyed the feeling of sweeping down the grand staircase.
He waited for the girl. He hated waiting, but he supposed it was his fault, since he had so unfeelingly subjected her to that. Luckily, she took as short a time as she could, and he rather enjoyed the sight of her sweeping down the stairs in the clothes he had conjured for her. He offered her his arm again, and she took it with a smile. They walked to the kitchen, through various rooms that he gave passing commentary on. At last, and not without small grumbles issuing from both of their stomachs, they reached the kitchen. Severus paused, unsure as to whether she wanted to make something for herself. When she just looked at him, waiting for instructions, he spoke.
"Miss. Granger, I'm afraid that I am not much of a cook. It is simply not a skill a bachelor who lives at Hogwarts need attain, and I usually make do with a simple meal, like a sandwich."
Hermione smiled. "Unfortunately, I have no great culinary skills either. The extent of my cooking lies about in the sandwich range, too, so we shall just make do with that. If you can make a salad, I can do the sandwiches, and all will be fine." Severus nodded his agreement and went in search of a serving bowl and some lettuce. Thankfully, the kitchen was amply supplied since the charms he sued kept things delightfully fresh for great lengths of time. In just a few moments, they sat down at the kitchen table with ham and cheese sandwiches on rolls and a delicious salad with cucumbers and a light, tangy dressing of which Hermione much approved. Snape smiled as she took a bite and expressed her enjoyment, explaining that he liked to make his own. The one thing he could do, seeing how close it was to potions brewing. They then launched into a conversation about the applications of potions and the abilities used to make them outside of their traditional ways. He was amazed to find her so intelligent and capable conversationalist. In fact, he rarely had the patience to spend an hour and a half talking to anyone, let alone a former student. But such a time it was, and he looked up from finally putting the now clean dishes away to see her stifling a yawn while nodding to a point he was making about the eccentricities of certain British wizarding notions. He caught her eye pointedly, and she blushed.
"I suppose I ought to turn in. I'm not really used to late nights, I usually just finish work, eat dinner and go to bed." She stopped, close-lipped, after this, as though she had said too much and was now painfully regretting her disclosure. His next words served to put her at ease.
"As, lately, have I. Come, let's go upstairs." They walked away, the lights extinguishing themselves as they exited; engrossed in the conversation his observation had interrupted. They stood, still talking, outside her door for a bit, until Hermione yawned again. Snape smiled a little and stepped back with a quiet goodnight, and entered his rooms opposite to hers. Hermione changed into the robe he had originally transfigured for her; it would return to its form 24 hours after the spell had been cast if he had used the most logical time limit. She drew the thick black draperies and turned down the covers with a little bit of trouble, as she was so short. She hopped into bed and snuggled between the covers, inhaling the scent of freshly laundered sheets, and a hint of musk that was him. She drifted off into the most untroubled, pleasant sleep she had had for almost two years. About an hour later, Hermione awoke to find a ghost hovering over the bed, smiling cruelly at her as ghostly blood dripped from its bony fingers. It was unmistakably a Snape, and unmistakably furious. This time, Hermione didn't even fight the urge to scream, and it was shrill and piercing and definitely penetrated the sleep of the man in the room across the hall.
*evil theme music plays, then turns startlingly into the song "Christmas Don't Delay" by Alvin and the Chipmunks* Hm, well, I hope you liked that, I know that I really have a lot of fun writing this story. I will have even more fun if I get lots of nice or any reviews. I feel so proud of myself, posting a chapter for each of my stories today. Well, I wanted to let y'all know that I was ecstatic about the reviews I got!
Veresna Ussep: Thank you so much for the encouragement. The muses are happy-dancing with sugar plums.
Elluxion: Wow, now the muses are going into shocks from all the delicious sugar they ingested from you lovely review, thanks!
Claribel: And here is the updateJ
MadAboutHarry: Yeah, it was a little plot bunny that bit the muses, and I'm glad you enjoy it.
Deritine: Oh dear! Hope you're okay; I know how that can feel when an author does that to me…but its so *fun*. *pouts* Well, here is the next bit, and hopefully very soon for you.
Clarity: Glad you like it and here it is.
JANET YOU ARE CONSPICUOSLY ABSENT FROM THIS LIST. UNLESS YOU ARE WRITING RAVEN MOOOORE, YOU ARE IN…er, its Christmas. Just going to keep telling myself that.