Disclaimer: see chapter 1.
Help! by Katta (KET on ff.net) (katta_t2002@yahoo.co.uk)
Chapter 2
In fact, Snape didn't go to Knockturn Alley the day after, or for many weeks after that. For at three o'clock that morning, his Dark Mark began to throb once again. He grabbed his Death Eater robes and ran towards the edge of the Hogwarts' ground with a feeling of heavy foreboding. The meeting turned out to be one of the worst yet. Voldemort, now strong and bloodthirsty, decided to indulge in a few games with captured wizards and muggles, which sickened Snape to the core. And if that wasn't enough, Malfoy sidled up and issued a veiled and sinister threat. 'You know I don't trust your conversion, but now I have the perfect weapon to use against you - your own flesh and blood!' Since Snape had no living relatives nearer than second cousins, he had no idea what this was meant to imply, but he also had no doubt that Malfoy had something very unpleasant in mind.
However, the meeting proved fruitful for the Cause, because Voldemort let slip some of his intentions, which enabled Dumbledore to put a plan of action into practice. Some weeks later, Harry Potter entered the Forbidden Forest as bait with the aurors close behind. Not close enough as it turned out, for Harry was forced to fight the final battle on his own. But, as predicted by many omens and seers (even Professor Trelawney), Harry won the day. And the assembled Hogwarts' faculty, aurors and Harry's friends arrived in the clearing to find Harry bending over the dead body of Voldemort in an echo of his adventure with the unicorns in his first year.
The battle having been won, Harry and his friends, who had missed their exams were awarded their NEWTs on the basis of the last year's course work (Hermione getting A++ in every subject), and went off to university. Harry Potter settled for escaping his fame in Britain by taking up a quidditch scholarship at an American university.
Snape retired back into obscurity and when term started again, he was still there at Hogwarts teaching the same old syllabus to students as idiotic as ever. True, there was no Longbottom and no Potter/Weasley/Granger trio to annoy him, but his mood did not lighten appreciably.
Dumbledore watched Snape with concern. Finally, at about Easter time, he decided to make his move. He invited Snape up to his office. Snape approached cautiously - he had no doubt that the invitation was a prelude to something unpleasant and he was soon proved right. Dumbledore popped a cream scone in his mouth and said, 'Severus, my dear friend, have you considered making a career move at all?' 'What career move? Who would have me?' 'Oh, don't be so negative. Your research is very well regarded and you have published widely. Any university department would be keen to have you.' 'But would I be keen to have them?' 'I don't know but I think you should give it a try. A fresh start. Turn over a new leaf. I'm not expecting you to take any irrevocable decisions straight away. I'd simply offering you a year's sabbatical from here to try something else. If it doesn't work out you can always come back.' 'Try what?' said Snape rather rudely, even to his own ears. 'Well, I've spoken with Professor Mordon at Magical College, Oxford. They would be glad to have you as a visiting fellow for a year.' 'Magical College, Oxford .' Despite himself, Snape was flattered. It was his own college and one of the very best. 'That's settled then. You can start in the Michaelmas term. That will give me plenty of time to find a temporary replacement here. And - oh - you will promise to try your best not to rub too many people up the wrong way, won't you.'
***
Snape wasn't afterwards quite clear what he'd said that had implied agreement, but once Dumbledore had got an idea in his mind, he was unstoppable. So the next September found Snape in his new rooms in Magical College, unpacking books.
He was just filling the last shelf when there was a knock at the door. 'Come in,' he shouted and a tall wizard don entered. 'My name is Pevensey. I'm the head of the Potions Department. You must be Professor Snape. You come with very high recommendations from my old friend Dumbledore,' he said - rather nervously, Snape thought. Snape remembered teaching a Hufflepuff called Pevensey some years previously and thought it might be this man's son or nephew. Obviously his reputation had gone before him. Or, if the man had a long enough memory, he would recall the first round of Death Eater trials. Snape sighed inwardly. A fresh start, Dumbledore had said, but there was clearly no such thing. However, he had promised Albus he would try his best, so try he would.
'I'm Snape,' he said in what for him was a very civil tone. Pevensey blinked but was clearly determined not to be put off. 'How are you settling in? Rooms fine? Everything all right? I see you have your house elf with you.' Piggy had just darted across the room. 'Anything you want to ask?' Pevensey was beginning to feel rather uncomfortable under the man's stare and was greatly relieved that they hadn't assigned him any students for pastoral care. 'Yes, there is something I wanted to ask, as a matter of fact. I know that I am to lecture the first and third years. I've already prepared the first term's lectures. But I see from the scroll you sent that I am to take tutorials for the second year students. What does that involve?' 'Ah yes,' said Pevensey. 'The second years, in addition to their normal course, do an assessed research project. We are each responsible for about four of them. They'll come and see you about once a fortnight to report on their progress. At the end of the year, the projects are assessed by an examining panel. If you tell your secretary, Mrs Snigglewort, what times you have set aside for tutorials, she'll make sure they make appointments. It isn't usually too onerous a task. We've given you some students that should be able work fairly independently. '
Snape detected a certain evasiveness in what Pevensey was saying, but was unsure why the man would be lying. 'Here is a list of your tutees', said Pevensey more uncomfortable than ever. Snape reached out to take the scroll and studied the names. Three of them were unknown to him and the third was . Hermione Granger. 'I know Miss Granger - I taught her at Hogwarts - but I have never heard of the others, ' he said slowly. 'Yes, well, the others are Americans as a matter of fact. Very bright. Certain to turn in very good projects without any - ahhr - help.' Snape was beginning to guess at the reason for the man's embarrassment. 'And Miss Granger?' he prompted. 'Ehr, well, her idea for a project falls squarely within your area of expertise, so we thought .' He petered out. Snape had guessed it now - they had tried to give him students whom he had never heard of and who had never heard of him, because they suspected that no one who had been to Hogwarts would accept him as a tutor. But Miss Granger had unwittingly chosen a topic that was so clearly 'his' that they couldn't assign her to anyone else, without it looking like an insult. 'Oh course, if you'd rather not tutor someone you know .' began Pevensey. 'No, no, that's fine,' said Snape. 'Of course, the students can also ask to change tutors.' 'Oh.' Snape decided that Miss Granger would be certain ask to change tutors as soon as she heard that she had been assigned to him. For some reason he couldn't quite fathom, this made him feel unaccountably disappointed.
***
Snape told Mrs Snigglewort that he would hold tutorials between 6 and 7pm. That would give him something to do between the end of lectures and before he could decently break out the whisky, he thought. (He wasn't sure why breaking out the whisky had recently become such an important part of his day). Also it was a sufficiently awkward time to discourage the tutees as far as possible.
So sure had he been that Miss Granger would ask for another tutor, that he was extremely surprised to find her name down for the 6-7pm slot on the first Friday of term. After a few moments thought, he decided that she must have thought it necessary to come and tell him in person why she was changing tutors. That would be the Gryffindor thing to do! And so he had not prepared anything for her project when he heard that strange double knock on his door at 6pm precisely. It was only with great difficulty that he managed to hide his astonishment when she presented him with the plans for her project.
Hermione had, of course, prepared the plan thoroughly. Snape recognised immediately that her ideas were interesting. Challenging, yet achievable by a second year student. And she had already done a great deal of background reading. He covered his confusion by adopting his normal gruff manner, but she clearly saw nothing unusual in that. Having already seen two of the other tutees, he was able to improvise a plan for reporting to him that sounded as if it had been well thought through, and Hermione went away satisfied.
And so it was that Hermione went to see Snape once a fortnight to discuss the project, and Snape, despite himself, became more and more interested in her work, not to mention more and more interested in her. In truth, he looked forward to their meetings. If it had been any other student, he would have been satisfied with the work she had already done on the project by Christmas, but he managed to spin it out until halfway through the Lent term. Finally, even Snape ran out of ideas for further research in the area and had to admit this. He gave her no explicit praise, but he did say, honestly, that the project was innovative enough to form the basis for a published article. Rather timidly, Hermione asked him if he would comment on a draft, if she rewrote it for publication. And so their meetings continued, albeit less frequently, until she had a highly polished paper to send off to the British Journal of Potions as soon as the project had been assessed.
***
The exam papers had all been marked. All the examination boards were finished. The assessed projects had all been handed in. It was the end of term. Outside in the quadrangle, the students were celebrating noisily. Snape stood in his room looking at his books and the few other belongings he had brought. Time to pack! He wasn't sure where he would be going in the autumn. The year had gone rather well, he thought. The lectures required no actual interaction with students and had been the easiest part. He'd held his tongue in staff meetings and had not fallen out with any of the faculty. His research had been going well. And the tutorials - well, they had all turned in projects anyway. He realised Dumbledore was right - he could leave Hogwarts for a university post if he wanted to.
Snape had no real doubt that Albus was trying to winkle him out of Hogwarts, whether for Snape's own good or because he had finally got fed up with his teaching style, or a combination of both. But short of actually sacking him, Snape couldn't see how it could be done against his will, and he didn't think Albus would sack him. And it was Snape's instinct to scuttle back to the safety and obscurity of Hogwarts. He didn't think he had the optimism and self-confidence for fresh starts. He was deep in such thoughts when that strange double knock came at his door. Miss Granger! What was she doing here? Slightly reluctantly he let her in.
Hermione was ready for the end of term ball. With an unusual rush of vanity, she had spent all afternoon getting ready, doing her hair, applying makeup and adjusting the stunning ball gown she had bought on a whim. Then, just as she was leaving she suddenly remembered that she wanted to retrieve the duplicate copy of her project from Snape. As she explained her errand, she became embarrassingly aware that Snape was looking at her with amazement. Hermione, who had by no means forgotten her seventh year dream, smiled inwardly and pulled herself up to her full height. 'Ehhr, Miss Granger, you will be late for your escort if you do not hurry', said Snape awkwardly, while fervently wishing she wouldn't go anywhere at all. Hermione deflated slightly. 'I haven't got an escort. No one asked me, but I decided that I would go on my own', she said ending on a defiant note. 'Who are you going with, sir?' she added, staring straight at an invite propped on Snape's mantelpiece. 'I'm not going', said Snape while simultaneously turning to follow her line of vision. It was the first time he had seen the invite. Mrs Snigglewort, damn the woman. She mothered him worse than Piggy! 'Why .', began Hermione. 'I'm not going', said Snape with finality. 'Please accompany me', begged Hermione, astonished at her own courage. 'I said I was going on my own, but I wasn't really looking forward to it .'
Snape looked at the beautiful woman before him and felt his resolve weaken. 'I haven't got the right clothes', he said doubtfully. 'All you need is a set of dress robes. I'm sure you've got that!' 'Well, yes, but .' He had suddenly run out of excuses. 'Just don't expect me to dance', he grunted. It took Hermione a moment to realise she had won, and then she clapped her hands with delight.
***
Snape needn't have worried about having to dance with Hermione. As soon as she walked into the ball, she was surrounded by young men who wanted nothing more than to dance with this beautiful woman. Snape stood in a corner, drank too much and wondered how she could bear to dance with them when they had previously ignored her and omitted to ask her to come to the ball with them. If he had had more experience in such matters he would have recognised that he was jealous. And so, when several hours later, Hermione approached him to ask if he wouldn't dance even just the once, he grabbed her rather savagely and led her onto the dance floor.
She had picked a waltz - traditional enough that Snape ought to recognise it while easy enough for her to follow without having been taught ballroom dancing. And to her delight she discovered that Snape was rather a good dancer. She moved closer to him, while trying desperately not to tread on his toes. He held her tightly, unaware just how close he was pulling her, suddenly aware of a desperate desire for her. Suddenly, she missed the rhythm slightly and fell against him. They both became simultaneously aware that her hip was grinding against his groin and that there could be no doubt of his erection. Startled Hermione looked up into his eyes and smiled.
Snape panicked. In one movement he let go of her and stalked out of the room without a single glance back.
Help! by Katta (KET on ff.net) (katta_t2002@yahoo.co.uk)
Chapter 2
In fact, Snape didn't go to Knockturn Alley the day after, or for many weeks after that. For at three o'clock that morning, his Dark Mark began to throb once again. He grabbed his Death Eater robes and ran towards the edge of the Hogwarts' ground with a feeling of heavy foreboding. The meeting turned out to be one of the worst yet. Voldemort, now strong and bloodthirsty, decided to indulge in a few games with captured wizards and muggles, which sickened Snape to the core. And if that wasn't enough, Malfoy sidled up and issued a veiled and sinister threat. 'You know I don't trust your conversion, but now I have the perfect weapon to use against you - your own flesh and blood!' Since Snape had no living relatives nearer than second cousins, he had no idea what this was meant to imply, but he also had no doubt that Malfoy had something very unpleasant in mind.
However, the meeting proved fruitful for the Cause, because Voldemort let slip some of his intentions, which enabled Dumbledore to put a plan of action into practice. Some weeks later, Harry Potter entered the Forbidden Forest as bait with the aurors close behind. Not close enough as it turned out, for Harry was forced to fight the final battle on his own. But, as predicted by many omens and seers (even Professor Trelawney), Harry won the day. And the assembled Hogwarts' faculty, aurors and Harry's friends arrived in the clearing to find Harry bending over the dead body of Voldemort in an echo of his adventure with the unicorns in his first year.
The battle having been won, Harry and his friends, who had missed their exams were awarded their NEWTs on the basis of the last year's course work (Hermione getting A++ in every subject), and went off to university. Harry Potter settled for escaping his fame in Britain by taking up a quidditch scholarship at an American university.
Snape retired back into obscurity and when term started again, he was still there at Hogwarts teaching the same old syllabus to students as idiotic as ever. True, there was no Longbottom and no Potter/Weasley/Granger trio to annoy him, but his mood did not lighten appreciably.
Dumbledore watched Snape with concern. Finally, at about Easter time, he decided to make his move. He invited Snape up to his office. Snape approached cautiously - he had no doubt that the invitation was a prelude to something unpleasant and he was soon proved right. Dumbledore popped a cream scone in his mouth and said, 'Severus, my dear friend, have you considered making a career move at all?' 'What career move? Who would have me?' 'Oh, don't be so negative. Your research is very well regarded and you have published widely. Any university department would be keen to have you.' 'But would I be keen to have them?' 'I don't know but I think you should give it a try. A fresh start. Turn over a new leaf. I'm not expecting you to take any irrevocable decisions straight away. I'd simply offering you a year's sabbatical from here to try something else. If it doesn't work out you can always come back.' 'Try what?' said Snape rather rudely, even to his own ears. 'Well, I've spoken with Professor Mordon at Magical College, Oxford. They would be glad to have you as a visiting fellow for a year.' 'Magical College, Oxford .' Despite himself, Snape was flattered. It was his own college and one of the very best. 'That's settled then. You can start in the Michaelmas term. That will give me plenty of time to find a temporary replacement here. And - oh - you will promise to try your best not to rub too many people up the wrong way, won't you.'
***
Snape wasn't afterwards quite clear what he'd said that had implied agreement, but once Dumbledore had got an idea in his mind, he was unstoppable. So the next September found Snape in his new rooms in Magical College, unpacking books.
He was just filling the last shelf when there was a knock at the door. 'Come in,' he shouted and a tall wizard don entered. 'My name is Pevensey. I'm the head of the Potions Department. You must be Professor Snape. You come with very high recommendations from my old friend Dumbledore,' he said - rather nervously, Snape thought. Snape remembered teaching a Hufflepuff called Pevensey some years previously and thought it might be this man's son or nephew. Obviously his reputation had gone before him. Or, if the man had a long enough memory, he would recall the first round of Death Eater trials. Snape sighed inwardly. A fresh start, Dumbledore had said, but there was clearly no such thing. However, he had promised Albus he would try his best, so try he would.
'I'm Snape,' he said in what for him was a very civil tone. Pevensey blinked but was clearly determined not to be put off. 'How are you settling in? Rooms fine? Everything all right? I see you have your house elf with you.' Piggy had just darted across the room. 'Anything you want to ask?' Pevensey was beginning to feel rather uncomfortable under the man's stare and was greatly relieved that they hadn't assigned him any students for pastoral care. 'Yes, there is something I wanted to ask, as a matter of fact. I know that I am to lecture the first and third years. I've already prepared the first term's lectures. But I see from the scroll you sent that I am to take tutorials for the second year students. What does that involve?' 'Ah yes,' said Pevensey. 'The second years, in addition to their normal course, do an assessed research project. We are each responsible for about four of them. They'll come and see you about once a fortnight to report on their progress. At the end of the year, the projects are assessed by an examining panel. If you tell your secretary, Mrs Snigglewort, what times you have set aside for tutorials, she'll make sure they make appointments. It isn't usually too onerous a task. We've given you some students that should be able work fairly independently. '
Snape detected a certain evasiveness in what Pevensey was saying, but was unsure why the man would be lying. 'Here is a list of your tutees', said Pevensey more uncomfortable than ever. Snape reached out to take the scroll and studied the names. Three of them were unknown to him and the third was . Hermione Granger. 'I know Miss Granger - I taught her at Hogwarts - but I have never heard of the others, ' he said slowly. 'Yes, well, the others are Americans as a matter of fact. Very bright. Certain to turn in very good projects without any - ahhr - help.' Snape was beginning to guess at the reason for the man's embarrassment. 'And Miss Granger?' he prompted. 'Ehr, well, her idea for a project falls squarely within your area of expertise, so we thought .' He petered out. Snape had guessed it now - they had tried to give him students whom he had never heard of and who had never heard of him, because they suspected that no one who had been to Hogwarts would accept him as a tutor. But Miss Granger had unwittingly chosen a topic that was so clearly 'his' that they couldn't assign her to anyone else, without it looking like an insult. 'Oh course, if you'd rather not tutor someone you know .' began Pevensey. 'No, no, that's fine,' said Snape. 'Of course, the students can also ask to change tutors.' 'Oh.' Snape decided that Miss Granger would be certain ask to change tutors as soon as she heard that she had been assigned to him. For some reason he couldn't quite fathom, this made him feel unaccountably disappointed.
***
Snape told Mrs Snigglewort that he would hold tutorials between 6 and 7pm. That would give him something to do between the end of lectures and before he could decently break out the whisky, he thought. (He wasn't sure why breaking out the whisky had recently become such an important part of his day). Also it was a sufficiently awkward time to discourage the tutees as far as possible.
So sure had he been that Miss Granger would ask for another tutor, that he was extremely surprised to find her name down for the 6-7pm slot on the first Friday of term. After a few moments thought, he decided that she must have thought it necessary to come and tell him in person why she was changing tutors. That would be the Gryffindor thing to do! And so he had not prepared anything for her project when he heard that strange double knock on his door at 6pm precisely. It was only with great difficulty that he managed to hide his astonishment when she presented him with the plans for her project.
Hermione had, of course, prepared the plan thoroughly. Snape recognised immediately that her ideas were interesting. Challenging, yet achievable by a second year student. And she had already done a great deal of background reading. He covered his confusion by adopting his normal gruff manner, but she clearly saw nothing unusual in that. Having already seen two of the other tutees, he was able to improvise a plan for reporting to him that sounded as if it had been well thought through, and Hermione went away satisfied.
And so it was that Hermione went to see Snape once a fortnight to discuss the project, and Snape, despite himself, became more and more interested in her work, not to mention more and more interested in her. In truth, he looked forward to their meetings. If it had been any other student, he would have been satisfied with the work she had already done on the project by Christmas, but he managed to spin it out until halfway through the Lent term. Finally, even Snape ran out of ideas for further research in the area and had to admit this. He gave her no explicit praise, but he did say, honestly, that the project was innovative enough to form the basis for a published article. Rather timidly, Hermione asked him if he would comment on a draft, if she rewrote it for publication. And so their meetings continued, albeit less frequently, until she had a highly polished paper to send off to the British Journal of Potions as soon as the project had been assessed.
***
The exam papers had all been marked. All the examination boards were finished. The assessed projects had all been handed in. It was the end of term. Outside in the quadrangle, the students were celebrating noisily. Snape stood in his room looking at his books and the few other belongings he had brought. Time to pack! He wasn't sure where he would be going in the autumn. The year had gone rather well, he thought. The lectures required no actual interaction with students and had been the easiest part. He'd held his tongue in staff meetings and had not fallen out with any of the faculty. His research had been going well. And the tutorials - well, they had all turned in projects anyway. He realised Dumbledore was right - he could leave Hogwarts for a university post if he wanted to.
Snape had no real doubt that Albus was trying to winkle him out of Hogwarts, whether for Snape's own good or because he had finally got fed up with his teaching style, or a combination of both. But short of actually sacking him, Snape couldn't see how it could be done against his will, and he didn't think Albus would sack him. And it was Snape's instinct to scuttle back to the safety and obscurity of Hogwarts. He didn't think he had the optimism and self-confidence for fresh starts. He was deep in such thoughts when that strange double knock came at his door. Miss Granger! What was she doing here? Slightly reluctantly he let her in.
Hermione was ready for the end of term ball. With an unusual rush of vanity, she had spent all afternoon getting ready, doing her hair, applying makeup and adjusting the stunning ball gown she had bought on a whim. Then, just as she was leaving she suddenly remembered that she wanted to retrieve the duplicate copy of her project from Snape. As she explained her errand, she became embarrassingly aware that Snape was looking at her with amazement. Hermione, who had by no means forgotten her seventh year dream, smiled inwardly and pulled herself up to her full height. 'Ehhr, Miss Granger, you will be late for your escort if you do not hurry', said Snape awkwardly, while fervently wishing she wouldn't go anywhere at all. Hermione deflated slightly. 'I haven't got an escort. No one asked me, but I decided that I would go on my own', she said ending on a defiant note. 'Who are you going with, sir?' she added, staring straight at an invite propped on Snape's mantelpiece. 'I'm not going', said Snape while simultaneously turning to follow her line of vision. It was the first time he had seen the invite. Mrs Snigglewort, damn the woman. She mothered him worse than Piggy! 'Why .', began Hermione. 'I'm not going', said Snape with finality. 'Please accompany me', begged Hermione, astonished at her own courage. 'I said I was going on my own, but I wasn't really looking forward to it .'
Snape looked at the beautiful woman before him and felt his resolve weaken. 'I haven't got the right clothes', he said doubtfully. 'All you need is a set of dress robes. I'm sure you've got that!' 'Well, yes, but .' He had suddenly run out of excuses. 'Just don't expect me to dance', he grunted. It took Hermione a moment to realise she had won, and then she clapped her hands with delight.
***
Snape needn't have worried about having to dance with Hermione. As soon as she walked into the ball, she was surrounded by young men who wanted nothing more than to dance with this beautiful woman. Snape stood in a corner, drank too much and wondered how she could bear to dance with them when they had previously ignored her and omitted to ask her to come to the ball with them. If he had had more experience in such matters he would have recognised that he was jealous. And so, when several hours later, Hermione approached him to ask if he wouldn't dance even just the once, he grabbed her rather savagely and led her onto the dance floor.
She had picked a waltz - traditional enough that Snape ought to recognise it while easy enough for her to follow without having been taught ballroom dancing. And to her delight she discovered that Snape was rather a good dancer. She moved closer to him, while trying desperately not to tread on his toes. He held her tightly, unaware just how close he was pulling her, suddenly aware of a desperate desire for her. Suddenly, she missed the rhythm slightly and fell against him. They both became simultaneously aware that her hip was grinding against his groin and that there could be no doubt of his erection. Startled Hermione looked up into his eyes and smiled.
Snape panicked. In one movement he let go of her and stalked out of the room without a single glance back.