Snape looked over at Hermione. She had not spoken a single word all night. He had her looking up the properties of Mandrake root, and penning each down, as well as the proven success rate. Every five lines or so, she would stop and bite at her fingernails. Something was worrying at her.
"Miss Granger, if you do not desist, you won't have any fingers left." At the sound of his voice, Hermione started, spraying ink on her shirt.
"Oh no!"
She stared in dismay at the ink running down her white button up shirt. Abruptly, a pale hand with a black kerchief was wiping away the ink. The ghostly touch was exciting, and she fought back a moan of pleasure. Wait! This was Snape who was touching her! Looking up, her brown eyes met his deep black orbs.
"Is there some reason you are being so jumpy, Miss Granger?" Blushing furiously, Hermione wanted to lie and say there was not. That she was just being silly. Most certainly she was not excited by the feel of his hand as it wiped the cloth over her nipple!
"Not a good one, no," was what she finally settled on. Snape stopped mopping up the ink for a moment.
"Then what is your reason?"
"I. . . I was just trying to think how to tell my friends. . . about my parents." Snape wiped away the last trace of ink, and pulled back his hand. Hermione fought the urge to beg him to touch her again. He was Snape! Why was she so excited by him?
"Perhaps you should simply start at the beginning, and then talk through to end?"
"But what will they think of me? I haven't lied, per se, but I haven't told them everything, either."
"If they are the friends you have made them out to be, Miss Granger, I doubt they will care," Snape drawled. He studied Hermione for a moment, and added, "However, given how easily Mr. Weasley seems to turn on you when you attempt to protect himself or Potter, I understand your reservation. And considering Potter has a foolish tendency to side with Weasley, this only makes your situation worse."
Hermione was silent. At first she had been furious, but she knew he was right. That was why she was so afraid, wasn't it? Harry and Ron often acted like fair-weather friends, and she had no one else. Oh no, she could not cry now! Not in front of Snape again!
"Miss Granger, if they are the friends you believe them to be, they will understand. If not, there are other people-"
"No there isn't anyone else! That's why I'm Harry and Ron's friend in the first place! No one else wanted me. . . and some days I'm not sure even they want me."
Now she was crying, and no silly handkechief was going to help stay her tears. Everything in her life had just slid down into an abyss, and she had no safety net to save herself. Burying her face in her hands, Hermione hoped Snape would not get angry at her for her lack of control.
Suddenly she was enveloped by darkness, and the darkness smelled faintly of the ingredients Snape had been handling before he had startled her. Gentle hands, with Snape's ghostly touch, caressed her back and hair. Snape must be holding her, Hermione realized. Without thinking, she cuddled against him.
"Miss Granger, I should not have said what I did. What you need now is comfort, not worry. Perhaps-" Snape stopped as Hermione placed her lips on his cheek.
"Thank you, Professor. I-I think I should go now."
"Yes, you should." Snape pushed Hermione away. She grabbed her bag, and raced out of the classroom, cheeks burning. Had she just kissed Snape? Of her own violation? Oh God, how was she going to face anyone now?
"Miss Granger, if you do not desist, you won't have any fingers left." At the sound of his voice, Hermione started, spraying ink on her shirt.
"Oh no!"
She stared in dismay at the ink running down her white button up shirt. Abruptly, a pale hand with a black kerchief was wiping away the ink. The ghostly touch was exciting, and she fought back a moan of pleasure. Wait! This was Snape who was touching her! Looking up, her brown eyes met his deep black orbs.
"Is there some reason you are being so jumpy, Miss Granger?" Blushing furiously, Hermione wanted to lie and say there was not. That she was just being silly. Most certainly she was not excited by the feel of his hand as it wiped the cloth over her nipple!
"Not a good one, no," was what she finally settled on. Snape stopped mopping up the ink for a moment.
"Then what is your reason?"
"I. . . I was just trying to think how to tell my friends. . . about my parents." Snape wiped away the last trace of ink, and pulled back his hand. Hermione fought the urge to beg him to touch her again. He was Snape! Why was she so excited by him?
"Perhaps you should simply start at the beginning, and then talk through to end?"
"But what will they think of me? I haven't lied, per se, but I haven't told them everything, either."
"If they are the friends you have made them out to be, Miss Granger, I doubt they will care," Snape drawled. He studied Hermione for a moment, and added, "However, given how easily Mr. Weasley seems to turn on you when you attempt to protect himself or Potter, I understand your reservation. And considering Potter has a foolish tendency to side with Weasley, this only makes your situation worse."
Hermione was silent. At first she had been furious, but she knew he was right. That was why she was so afraid, wasn't it? Harry and Ron often acted like fair-weather friends, and she had no one else. Oh no, she could not cry now! Not in front of Snape again!
"Miss Granger, if they are the friends you believe them to be, they will understand. If not, there are other people-"
"No there isn't anyone else! That's why I'm Harry and Ron's friend in the first place! No one else wanted me. . . and some days I'm not sure even they want me."
Now she was crying, and no silly handkechief was going to help stay her tears. Everything in her life had just slid down into an abyss, and she had no safety net to save herself. Burying her face in her hands, Hermione hoped Snape would not get angry at her for her lack of control.
Suddenly she was enveloped by darkness, and the darkness smelled faintly of the ingredients Snape had been handling before he had startled her. Gentle hands, with Snape's ghostly touch, caressed her back and hair. Snape must be holding her, Hermione realized. Without thinking, she cuddled against him.
"Miss Granger, I should not have said what I did. What you need now is comfort, not worry. Perhaps-" Snape stopped as Hermione placed her lips on his cheek.
"Thank you, Professor. I-I think I should go now."
"Yes, you should." Snape pushed Hermione away. She grabbed her bag, and raced out of the classroom, cheeks burning. Had she just kissed Snape? Of her own violation? Oh God, how was she going to face anyone now?