4
Hours past. And then days. Days turned to weeks, and weeks into months. And months into a year and a half. And still, their search yielded no results. Their pages were filled with notes on every topic; none relating to that at hand, however.
Every day they would meet, now including weekends. And from nine until one they would search and search, four hours of work. Now they never spoke; they merely glanced at each other if they were passing in an isle of the tall bookshelves. Hermione had become someone she had never thought she could become; a cold, almost heartless person. Her students were no longer as precious to her, and she was more willing to give detentions and take away points for undesirable behavior. The same mistakes were always made, class after class, and she began to see why her partner, Severus Snape, was as cold as he was. Her after-school work was now the only haven she had. A place of quiet and contemplation, and of almost bliss. Severus seemed to think so, too.
He no longer seemed to snarl at her entrance for dinner and breakfast; his insults came in dribs and drabs, not in steady courses of hate. He had seemed to accept the situation as it was, questioning as he may be.
His thoughts were no longer of his hardship and dealing with an arrogant child- they had turned to a trust of his colleague, almost, although he would not admit it, a type of respect for her work. He would watch her all the time, and he knew she could feel his gaze. He would shadow her, always trying to find that one flaw that he could mock, that he could curse. To give himself that leverage that had always kept him above all people he had encountered. His psychology had left him only one defense… keeping him above all others. Everyone he knew had a flaw, something he could gnaw at, tear at, until that person broke down, admitting him as the superior. But he was not interested in his mind.
He was interested in Hermione's.
For all their work together, how long had it been… a year and a half… he had not yet found that one flaw, the kink in her amour.
He was beaten.
And it scared him. It scared him so much that some days he thought of calling off their partnership, making himself scarce. But he never did. For if he was to do that, Hermione would sense something. She would come after him, and he might do something he would regret. Something he could not take back. For it was now, now—now above every other time that he realized he was feeling something he had never felt before. A feeling of longing. And lust. Something about her had sparked something in him.
And he needed her.
Little did he know, Hermione was confused too.
She needed him.
Hours past. And then days. Days turned to weeks, and weeks into months. And months into a year and a half. And still, their search yielded no results. Their pages were filled with notes on every topic; none relating to that at hand, however.
Every day they would meet, now including weekends. And from nine until one they would search and search, four hours of work. Now they never spoke; they merely glanced at each other if they were passing in an isle of the tall bookshelves. Hermione had become someone she had never thought she could become; a cold, almost heartless person. Her students were no longer as precious to her, and she was more willing to give detentions and take away points for undesirable behavior. The same mistakes were always made, class after class, and she began to see why her partner, Severus Snape, was as cold as he was. Her after-school work was now the only haven she had. A place of quiet and contemplation, and of almost bliss. Severus seemed to think so, too.
He no longer seemed to snarl at her entrance for dinner and breakfast; his insults came in dribs and drabs, not in steady courses of hate. He had seemed to accept the situation as it was, questioning as he may be.
His thoughts were no longer of his hardship and dealing with an arrogant child- they had turned to a trust of his colleague, almost, although he would not admit it, a type of respect for her work. He would watch her all the time, and he knew she could feel his gaze. He would shadow her, always trying to find that one flaw that he could mock, that he could curse. To give himself that leverage that had always kept him above all people he had encountered. His psychology had left him only one defense… keeping him above all others. Everyone he knew had a flaw, something he could gnaw at, tear at, until that person broke down, admitting him as the superior. But he was not interested in his mind.
He was interested in Hermione's.
For all their work together, how long had it been… a year and a half… he had not yet found that one flaw, the kink in her amour.
He was beaten.
And it scared him. It scared him so much that some days he thought of calling off their partnership, making himself scarce. But he never did. For if he was to do that, Hermione would sense something. She would come after him, and he might do something he would regret. Something he could not take back. For it was now, now—now above every other time that he realized he was feeling something he had never felt before. A feeling of longing. And lust. Something about her had sparked something in him.
And he needed her.
Little did he know, Hermione was confused too.
She needed him.