Take a Sad Song and Make it Better is something of a songfic. I just thought that 'Hey Jude' by the Beatles belonged in a Snape/Hermione fic. I do not own the Beatles, any of their songs, or JKR's HP world; that, I just manipulate. Fun, fun! Teacher-Student relations on the way, so if you don't like that kinda stuff, that's what your back button was made for.
Severus Snape was pissed, to say the least. Oh sure, he was happy that Voldemort was finally gone for good, and the world could move on without such fear. He would remain civil for that reason, at least. But this party... As soon as the news had spread that Harry Potter had finally saved the world in his seventh year, just as all those Muggles who somehow found out about him had guessed, Dumbledore announced a formal party. All faculty attended, and were encouraged this time even to dance with the students.
Hey, Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better
Snape was actually quite fond of Beatles tunes. This one, however, seemed always to rub him the wrong way. What also didn't help this time was having Hermione Granger dancing with him. He'd been carefully avoiding most every student, only dancing when Dumbledore's frown reached him. Since Hermione was head girl, Dumbledore would no sooner let Snape avoid this dance than revive Voldemort.
She was awfully close to him. Far too close for comfort. Ability and courtesy kept their eye contact, and Snape was having trouble reading what was there. Frustrating, that, since he was supposed to be so great at such a thing. Was there mischief in that twinkle? Delight? For a split second her eyes left his and flickered over to her partners in crime. Ah, of course. There must have been some kind of bet on whether the greasy git would actually dance with the Gryffindor know-it-all.
Hey, Jude, don't be afraid
You were made to go out and get her
The minute you let her under your skin
Then you begin to make it better
Under his hands she moved, graceful by his lead. The thought of her talents there and in his classroom returned. She was, in fact, talented in every class, except for that year she took Divination. The rumors floating about after that had been hilarious, although he had to admit he himself wasn't particularly fond of that class or Trelawney.
That damn twinkle was still there when Hermione's eyes returned. Conflicting emotion coursed through him. Anger and frustration always came when he didn't know just what was going on... but really he had no problem with the girl. She was probably the smartest student he'd ever had the pleasure to teach - hold the phone! Pleasure to teach? Where did that thought come from?
And any time you feel the pain, hey, Jude, refrain
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders
For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool
By making his world a little colder
Snape would have sneered at the song, had Hermione not been staring solidly at him. Delight and mischief had been joined by about a hundred other emotions, and they were difficult to distinguish. Ha, she was just as confused as he.
da da da da, da da da da
Hey, Jude! Don't let me down
You have found her, now go and get her
Remember, to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better
Suddenly Snape found himself contemplating the existence of Fate. Ironic, considering he had just been mentally bashing a Seer. Now all he considered was the fact he could hardly breathe.
So let it out and let it in, hey, Jude, begin
You're waiting for someone to perform with
And don't you know that it's just you, hey, Jude,
You'll do, the movement you need is on your shoulder
Holy hell. Was it possible he didn't imagine that? That pressure, there, from her hand on shoulder? Those eyes, he told himself. Look there for the answer. And, yes, he found the answer: she knew the song. She was singing it behind those eyes and, more importantly, dedicating it to him. That may have been what she was doing all along...
Then she was humming.
da da da da, da da da da, yeah
Eye contact held. On one hand he was proud at her nerve, and yet, at the same time, it enraged him.
Hey, Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her under your skin
Then you begin to make it better
better, better, better, better, better, oh yeah!
Oh, what the hell. The song still had half its length left. He may as well enjoy it, even if it wasn't appropriate to continue afterward. That's when he would have to end this. But would he really refuse to make it better?
da da da da da da da, da da da da, hey jude...