1 Disclaimer: Don't own anything, not making any money, no infringement
intended. I just love these characters too much to leave them alone.
1.1 Rating: R for language
Summary: Hermione finds comfort from an unexpected source after Ron breaks up with her. Takes place 7th year, two months before the Trio graduate from Hogwarts. Severus/Hermione.
2
3 Rebound
by Auror Borealis
Chapter 3
Hermione paid no attention as Professor Binns droned on in History of Magic. She hadn't, now, for several years. She had known all the material Binns covered, and more, by the end of her third year. She usually used the time to study for another class, but today she toyed with her quill and stared off into space, her mind full. No one noticed; almost everyone in the room was doing the same thing. Eyes were glazed with boredom, heads drooped as students struggled to stay awake. It was an excellent opportunity to simply think.
It amazed Hermione how quickly she was recovering from the shock of Ron's defection. Was it only last night? Somehow, it seemed longer. The pain was far less than it had been even this morning. Her pride was sorely wounded, but her heart felt as though Madam Pomfrey had waved her wand over it. She found her thoughts drifting away from Ron and turning towards her encounter the night before with Professor Snape.
Harry hadn't asked where she spent the night, and she hadn't volunteered the information. She had, in fact, slept on the sofa in Professor McGonagall's private sitting room, after Snape had awakened her head of house. McGonagall asked her no questions. She simply thanked Professor Snape, waved her wand, conjuring blankets and pillows, and told Hermione that should she wish to talk, she would be happy to listen. Overcome by the kindness she felt that her disregard of school rules had not merited, she quietly cried herself to sleep.
But Snape didn't deliver her to McGonagall immediately. He had risen from his desk and walked to his office, and she followed. He waved her into a chair and pointed his wand at the fireplace, and the bleak room filled with the softening glow of firelight, the chill lessening immediately. Snape's lips moved soundlessly, and a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits appeared on his desk. He selected a small flask from a cabinet, poured a cup for her, added a few drops from the flask, and handed it to her.
"Thank you, Professor," she whispered, wondering what could be in it, and if she should drink it. Courtesy left her no choice.
"Drink. Then you may talk, if you wish." Rather than seating himself behind this desk, larger and more formidable than the one in the Potions classroom, he took the chair beside her, and watched as she sipped the strong, steaming brew. Right away, she felt more composed, less wretched than before. Hermione was distracted from her misery by wonder. Snape was being nice to her. Ron had dumped her, and now Snape was being nice to her. She wondered how many more shocks the night had in store for her.
Snape stared into the flames while Hermione drank her tea. She found the silence soothing rather than unnerving; quite the opposite of what she would have expected. She felt emboldened to look around his office. She had been here before, during her second year at Hogwarts. On that occasion, she had not been invited. A twinge of guilt assailed her, but was quickly banished; Hermione suspected that that might be the result of whatever Snape had added to her tea. She had slipped in here to pilfer boomslang skin so that she, Harry, and Ron could make Polyjuice potion. Funny, it didn't hurt to think of him just then. Ron. She tested the name again. Ron. Nope, nothing.
"It's a numbing potion, quite a mild one," he said, as if reading her mind. This startled her a bit; it seemed like the sort of thing Dumbledore would do. In fact, sitting in this spartan office felt quite a bit like being in the Headmaster's domain, minus the phoenix and a great deal of light. "It's used to relieve undue stress, at least temporarily. Not wise to take it on a regular basis, but it can be very helpful sometimes."
"Thank you very much," she said, meaning it.
"Is there anything you might wish to tell me?" he asked.
She shook her head. She was feeling much better, but the thought of confiding in Snape, especially on such a personal matter, was not a concept her brain could process.
"I thought not. I, however, have something to say to you." She looked up, suddenly tense.
"Listen well," he continued, "for I shall only say this once. And if you are tempted to repeat it, I shall deny every word." Hermione nodded, her eyes widening.
"You are a lovely, intelligent, altogether remarkable young woman, Miss Granger." She almost dropped the empty teacup. Snape removed it gently from her hands and set it on the desk. "If Weasley does not appreciate you, the loss is truly his own."
He stood and extended his hand to her, a courtly gesture with practical motivation. She was too stunned to move without assistance. "I think it is time you went to bed. No, no, I don't mean to send you to your dormitory. Tomorrow you will have to face it, but not, I think, tonight. Professor McGonagall fawns shamelessly upon you – didn't you know that? I'm sure she would be delighted to be awakened in the middle of the night and called upon to give you shelter from your adolescent crises." The sarcasm had reasserted itself in his voice. Did he regret that astonishing compliment? she wondered. She still couldn't believe he had even uttered it. Lovely, intelligent, remarkable. Quite a change from annoying, a show- off, and a know-it-all. He didn't need to worry that she would repeat his words. There was no chance that anyone would believe her.
In the midst of one of Professor Binns' most boring lectures yet, Hermione thought of another Hogwarts professor, and gave a little sigh.
End of Part 3
1.1 Rating: R for language
Summary: Hermione finds comfort from an unexpected source after Ron breaks up with her. Takes place 7th year, two months before the Trio graduate from Hogwarts. Severus/Hermione.
2
3 Rebound
by Auror Borealis
Chapter 3
Hermione paid no attention as Professor Binns droned on in History of Magic. She hadn't, now, for several years. She had known all the material Binns covered, and more, by the end of her third year. She usually used the time to study for another class, but today she toyed with her quill and stared off into space, her mind full. No one noticed; almost everyone in the room was doing the same thing. Eyes were glazed with boredom, heads drooped as students struggled to stay awake. It was an excellent opportunity to simply think.
It amazed Hermione how quickly she was recovering from the shock of Ron's defection. Was it only last night? Somehow, it seemed longer. The pain was far less than it had been even this morning. Her pride was sorely wounded, but her heart felt as though Madam Pomfrey had waved her wand over it. She found her thoughts drifting away from Ron and turning towards her encounter the night before with Professor Snape.
Harry hadn't asked where she spent the night, and she hadn't volunteered the information. She had, in fact, slept on the sofa in Professor McGonagall's private sitting room, after Snape had awakened her head of house. McGonagall asked her no questions. She simply thanked Professor Snape, waved her wand, conjuring blankets and pillows, and told Hermione that should she wish to talk, she would be happy to listen. Overcome by the kindness she felt that her disregard of school rules had not merited, she quietly cried herself to sleep.
But Snape didn't deliver her to McGonagall immediately. He had risen from his desk and walked to his office, and she followed. He waved her into a chair and pointed his wand at the fireplace, and the bleak room filled with the softening glow of firelight, the chill lessening immediately. Snape's lips moved soundlessly, and a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits appeared on his desk. He selected a small flask from a cabinet, poured a cup for her, added a few drops from the flask, and handed it to her.
"Thank you, Professor," she whispered, wondering what could be in it, and if she should drink it. Courtesy left her no choice.
"Drink. Then you may talk, if you wish." Rather than seating himself behind this desk, larger and more formidable than the one in the Potions classroom, he took the chair beside her, and watched as she sipped the strong, steaming brew. Right away, she felt more composed, less wretched than before. Hermione was distracted from her misery by wonder. Snape was being nice to her. Ron had dumped her, and now Snape was being nice to her. She wondered how many more shocks the night had in store for her.
Snape stared into the flames while Hermione drank her tea. She found the silence soothing rather than unnerving; quite the opposite of what she would have expected. She felt emboldened to look around his office. She had been here before, during her second year at Hogwarts. On that occasion, she had not been invited. A twinge of guilt assailed her, but was quickly banished; Hermione suspected that that might be the result of whatever Snape had added to her tea. She had slipped in here to pilfer boomslang skin so that she, Harry, and Ron could make Polyjuice potion. Funny, it didn't hurt to think of him just then. Ron. She tested the name again. Ron. Nope, nothing.
"It's a numbing potion, quite a mild one," he said, as if reading her mind. This startled her a bit; it seemed like the sort of thing Dumbledore would do. In fact, sitting in this spartan office felt quite a bit like being in the Headmaster's domain, minus the phoenix and a great deal of light. "It's used to relieve undue stress, at least temporarily. Not wise to take it on a regular basis, but it can be very helpful sometimes."
"Thank you very much," she said, meaning it.
"Is there anything you might wish to tell me?" he asked.
She shook her head. She was feeling much better, but the thought of confiding in Snape, especially on such a personal matter, was not a concept her brain could process.
"I thought not. I, however, have something to say to you." She looked up, suddenly tense.
"Listen well," he continued, "for I shall only say this once. And if you are tempted to repeat it, I shall deny every word." Hermione nodded, her eyes widening.
"You are a lovely, intelligent, altogether remarkable young woman, Miss Granger." She almost dropped the empty teacup. Snape removed it gently from her hands and set it on the desk. "If Weasley does not appreciate you, the loss is truly his own."
He stood and extended his hand to her, a courtly gesture with practical motivation. She was too stunned to move without assistance. "I think it is time you went to bed. No, no, I don't mean to send you to your dormitory. Tomorrow you will have to face it, but not, I think, tonight. Professor McGonagall fawns shamelessly upon you – didn't you know that? I'm sure she would be delighted to be awakened in the middle of the night and called upon to give you shelter from your adolescent crises." The sarcasm had reasserted itself in his voice. Did he regret that astonishing compliment? she wondered. She still couldn't believe he had even uttered it. Lovely, intelligent, remarkable. Quite a change from annoying, a show- off, and a know-it-all. He didn't need to worry that she would repeat his words. There was no chance that anyone would believe her.
In the midst of one of Professor Binns' most boring lectures yet, Hermione thought of another Hogwarts professor, and gave a little sigh.
End of Part 3
