A/N Sorry it's been so long, I have had a lot of work to do.
Oh yeah a reviewer asked me a question last chapter, the answer is that
English is my first language and I actually do live in England. I do
however have problems with grammar; it's pretty much an unavoidable thing.
Hopefully this chapter should be a lot better. As always read and review,
enjoy (
Dance for Me by Hermia LaFaye
Professor Snape had for the last few weeks been having intensive dance lessons with Madam Swann. He was glad for the extra attention the dance instructor was giving him as it had been a number of years since he had danced.
The reason he had even learned to dance in the first place was one particularly mad quidditch captain back in his fourth year, who, upon reading of the strength and flexibility that dancers possessed, made it mandatory that all the quidditch team attend lessons. At that time the Slytherin team were the laughing stock of the school, they hadn't won a game in over three seasons let alone the house cup, which they hadn't won in years. So the suggestion to do dance wasn't met with much resistance as the team were at the point where they were willing to try anything.
Snape had never felt so stupid in his life when he had first started attending the lessons, along with his team mates and the taunts they received on the field were almost unbearable. But the Slytherin team had the last laugh in the end. They won the cup that year in a resounding victory against Ravenclaw. It may have been a burst of rather good luck or it may have been the team's new training regime. Whatever it was, the team, after seeing the new turn around in their fortunes, weren't willing to rock the boat by giving up anything they were doing. So it remained, until Snape left school, he had dance lessons as part of his quidditch training. Over time, he had gained great respect for dance and the rigorous discipline undertaken by the pupils to achieve their goal.
Even though he never intended to carry it on after he had left Hogwarts, he found the training he had undergone very useful in perfecting the silent glide he used when moving through Hogwarts corridors.
But his school days were over twenty years behind him and Madam Swann understood that Snape was not as young as he once was. So taking this into consideration she had made his part the easiest of the play. His part consisted mostly of sitting on a large throne on the upper part of the stage looking menacing. When he was dancing, if it could be called that, his moves were mostly pedestrian moves such as walking, gliding and running. He also acted as a glorified bar for Hermione whose part was very intricate indeed, putting the focus of the audience on her. But when it was required that they interact Snape was to lift Hermione and move around the stage with her imitating her movements, which were deliberate and slow.
Professor Snape sat in his rooms, his whole body ached in places where he didn't even realise he had muscles. Massaging his neck he proceeded to pen the letter which he had been putting off for the last few nights, it was only under the threat of Madam Swann that he was writing it. Giving it to his owl he instructed the bird to take it to Hermione Grangers room. Watching grimly as the bird flew off he sat down in his favourite chair by the fire and began to gather himself in his thoughts.
The dreams that had started after he had watched Hermione dance in the Great Hall had recently become more and more vivid and surprisingly passionate. He would often find himself waking up after one of these dreams in a cold sweat, her name on his lips. His potions classes were becoming something of a miniature torture session. He would find himself watching her as she moved about the classroom. He now knew that she bit her lip when she concentrated, that she smiled slightly to herself when a potion she was working on went right and that when she was mad she had a wit and fury that could rival his own. But what most amazed him was her determination to succeed, the all out drive that allowed her to carry on against insurmountable odds. She was captivating and he knew that with the added pressure of working in such close quarters with her, it would only be a matter of time before he cracked.
He was snapped out of his revere by the soft flapping of his owl's wings as she flew back in the room. Approaching Orwell, he untied the note which was attached to her right talon. Sitting back down, but not before giving Orwell a cracker, he unfolded the note and began to read it.
It read, 'Professor Snape, Will meet you at the aforementioned time in the dance studio, Hermione Granger'. Simple, straightforward and to the point, just like her.
Snape sighed and cursed the entity that decided to mess with his mind in such a manner, tomorrow was going to be very difficult indeed.
Hermione walked into the dance studio, her kit bag bouncing at her side. She was half an hour early for the rehearsal, but Hermione being who she was, felt that she needed to arrive this early to warm up.
Dressed in her red dance sweats she dumped her bag beside the mirrors and began to jog around the room to get the blood flowing to her muscles. After about five minutes of this, she felt warmer and her muscles began to feel looser, so readying herself at the bar she began the process of stretching herself out. It was fifteen minutes later and feeling a slight sense of painful euphoria she sat down and faced the mirrors. Reaching into her kit bag she pulled out a very tattered pair of Pointe shoes and began to pull them on. She laced them up and then pulling herself up to old wooden barre which ran about an inch parallel to the floor, she jammed her feet into the small space between the barre and the mirror so that the bottom of her feet were resting on the bar. Then she began to pull herself back until her feet were stretched to their furthermost arching point, she stayed that way until Professor Snape walked in.
Professor Snape stood at the entrance to the studio; he had been watching her for the past few minutes doing only Merlin knows what. She had her feet jammed into the space between the barre and the mirror. He shook his head at her actions and walked into the dance studio,
"Ms Granger" he said in greeting
Hermione whipped her head round and her eyes came to rest on the face that had been haunting her dreams for the past month. Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open slightly as images from her sleep began to invade her head.
As this went on Severus stared at Hermione in confusion, she was regarding him in the manner of a goldfish and that unnerved him slightly.
"Ms Granger" he snapped "Whilst I'm sure your goldfish impressions amuse your less than intelligent housemates, they do not amuse me"
Hermione snapping out of her trance glared at him,
"May I remind you Professor, it was those so called less than intelligent housemates that made the difference between life and death for many people less than six months ago?"
Severus turned to face her, anger burning in his eyes, ready to release his full wrath upon Hermione who stood there a challenge evident in her eyes. He quickly realised if he was going to retaliate, she was going to give as good as she got.
He drew in a breath and narrowed his eyes; Madam Swann chose that exact moment to enter the studio.
Madam Swann walked slowly across the studio and regarded the scene before her. One of her best pupils looking fit to kill and one Potions Professor who was about to burst. She smiled inwardly, maybe Albus was right. But that aside, she had a rehearsal to run.
Dance for Me by Hermia LaFaye
Professor Snape had for the last few weeks been having intensive dance lessons with Madam Swann. He was glad for the extra attention the dance instructor was giving him as it had been a number of years since he had danced.
The reason he had even learned to dance in the first place was one particularly mad quidditch captain back in his fourth year, who, upon reading of the strength and flexibility that dancers possessed, made it mandatory that all the quidditch team attend lessons. At that time the Slytherin team were the laughing stock of the school, they hadn't won a game in over three seasons let alone the house cup, which they hadn't won in years. So the suggestion to do dance wasn't met with much resistance as the team were at the point where they were willing to try anything.
Snape had never felt so stupid in his life when he had first started attending the lessons, along with his team mates and the taunts they received on the field were almost unbearable. But the Slytherin team had the last laugh in the end. They won the cup that year in a resounding victory against Ravenclaw. It may have been a burst of rather good luck or it may have been the team's new training regime. Whatever it was, the team, after seeing the new turn around in their fortunes, weren't willing to rock the boat by giving up anything they were doing. So it remained, until Snape left school, he had dance lessons as part of his quidditch training. Over time, he had gained great respect for dance and the rigorous discipline undertaken by the pupils to achieve their goal.
Even though he never intended to carry it on after he had left Hogwarts, he found the training he had undergone very useful in perfecting the silent glide he used when moving through Hogwarts corridors.
But his school days were over twenty years behind him and Madam Swann understood that Snape was not as young as he once was. So taking this into consideration she had made his part the easiest of the play. His part consisted mostly of sitting on a large throne on the upper part of the stage looking menacing. When he was dancing, if it could be called that, his moves were mostly pedestrian moves such as walking, gliding and running. He also acted as a glorified bar for Hermione whose part was very intricate indeed, putting the focus of the audience on her. But when it was required that they interact Snape was to lift Hermione and move around the stage with her imitating her movements, which were deliberate and slow.
Professor Snape sat in his rooms, his whole body ached in places where he didn't even realise he had muscles. Massaging his neck he proceeded to pen the letter which he had been putting off for the last few nights, it was only under the threat of Madam Swann that he was writing it. Giving it to his owl he instructed the bird to take it to Hermione Grangers room. Watching grimly as the bird flew off he sat down in his favourite chair by the fire and began to gather himself in his thoughts.
The dreams that had started after he had watched Hermione dance in the Great Hall had recently become more and more vivid and surprisingly passionate. He would often find himself waking up after one of these dreams in a cold sweat, her name on his lips. His potions classes were becoming something of a miniature torture session. He would find himself watching her as she moved about the classroom. He now knew that she bit her lip when she concentrated, that she smiled slightly to herself when a potion she was working on went right and that when she was mad she had a wit and fury that could rival his own. But what most amazed him was her determination to succeed, the all out drive that allowed her to carry on against insurmountable odds. She was captivating and he knew that with the added pressure of working in such close quarters with her, it would only be a matter of time before he cracked.
He was snapped out of his revere by the soft flapping of his owl's wings as she flew back in the room. Approaching Orwell, he untied the note which was attached to her right talon. Sitting back down, but not before giving Orwell a cracker, he unfolded the note and began to read it.
It read, 'Professor Snape, Will meet you at the aforementioned time in the dance studio, Hermione Granger'. Simple, straightforward and to the point, just like her.
Snape sighed and cursed the entity that decided to mess with his mind in such a manner, tomorrow was going to be very difficult indeed.
Hermione walked into the dance studio, her kit bag bouncing at her side. She was half an hour early for the rehearsal, but Hermione being who she was, felt that she needed to arrive this early to warm up.
Dressed in her red dance sweats she dumped her bag beside the mirrors and began to jog around the room to get the blood flowing to her muscles. After about five minutes of this, she felt warmer and her muscles began to feel looser, so readying herself at the bar she began the process of stretching herself out. It was fifteen minutes later and feeling a slight sense of painful euphoria she sat down and faced the mirrors. Reaching into her kit bag she pulled out a very tattered pair of Pointe shoes and began to pull them on. She laced them up and then pulling herself up to old wooden barre which ran about an inch parallel to the floor, she jammed her feet into the small space between the barre and the mirror so that the bottom of her feet were resting on the bar. Then she began to pull herself back until her feet were stretched to their furthermost arching point, she stayed that way until Professor Snape walked in.
Professor Snape stood at the entrance to the studio; he had been watching her for the past few minutes doing only Merlin knows what. She had her feet jammed into the space between the barre and the mirror. He shook his head at her actions and walked into the dance studio,
"Ms Granger" he said in greeting
Hermione whipped her head round and her eyes came to rest on the face that had been haunting her dreams for the past month. Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open slightly as images from her sleep began to invade her head.
As this went on Severus stared at Hermione in confusion, she was regarding him in the manner of a goldfish and that unnerved him slightly.
"Ms Granger" he snapped "Whilst I'm sure your goldfish impressions amuse your less than intelligent housemates, they do not amuse me"
Hermione snapping out of her trance glared at him,
"May I remind you Professor, it was those so called less than intelligent housemates that made the difference between life and death for many people less than six months ago?"
Severus turned to face her, anger burning in his eyes, ready to release his full wrath upon Hermione who stood there a challenge evident in her eyes. He quickly realised if he was going to retaliate, she was going to give as good as she got.
He drew in a breath and narrowed his eyes; Madam Swann chose that exact moment to enter the studio.
Madam Swann walked slowly across the studio and regarded the scene before her. One of her best pupils looking fit to kill and one Potions Professor who was about to burst. She smiled inwardly, maybe Albus was right. But that aside, she had a rehearsal to run.