AN: You know the drill. Disclaimer in Chapter One. I hope I don't have to
say it anymore. Many thanks to all who reviewed.
CHAPTER FOUR
Speaking Terms
"Laurel essence," Hermione muttered at the tapestry before her, and it lifted itself away from the wall for her. Unwarding the door, Hermione entered her private chambers, only to find a deep green envelope waiting for her on her desk.
She winced, narrowing her eyes at it and wishing for once that she could actually incinerate the thing with sheer willpower. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she grabbed it, inspecting the envelope, which was crafted of fine paper - if one could call it paper.
"Snape," she mumbled as she saw the neat, precise but angular handwriting on the front addressing it to her, and the Slytherin seal stamped in the silver wax on the back. Hermione slit it open with a fingernail and pulled out a small note, on Snape's personal stationery.
Absently, Hermione noted that he must have ordered some recently; she'd never before seen stationery like this from him.
HG, Hermione read, sending a pang of nostalgia through her,
There are words that need to be said between us, regarding our last meeting. Please do me the honour of your presence in my office at four o'clock pm tomorrow afternoon, following your classes.
SS.
Hermione sighed and grabbed a quill off the stand on her desk, along with a sheet of her own personal stationery.
I will be there.
H.
Enclosing it in her own envelope, scrawling SS across the front rather than his actual name, Hermione flipped it over and stamped her own seal upon it - her initials, HEG, in the Gryffindor colours. Unfortunately, she had not yet had the time to acquire the Gryffindor stamp and had to use her personal one.
With a silent prayer that the use of her personal seal would not be misinterpreted, Hermione sent it off by Floo.
"Professor Snape's chambers!" she said, and the envelope disappeared in a puff of flame.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Snape poured himself another glass of Ogden's Firewhiskey, downing it all in one gulp.
Why did that woman have to be so damn - well, so damn HER?
He sighed and poured himself another glass, but paused before swallowing this one down as well. He didn't ordinarily drink, he realised. It was the stress of seeing HER again, he was sure of it.
What if she didn't feel it anymore? What if the spell had been broken? What if...
Snape drowned the questions in the glass of whiskey, and stopped himself before he could pour another glass.
He had to admit, he'd been almost pleasantly surprised - as he was sure had been Hermione's intention, that was how her mind worked - when he'd found that she had gotten herself that degree in Alchemy.
She always was your best student, said that annoying little voice inside of him. You knew she'd do great things. You just wanted to do them with her. Immediately, Snape decided to screw the hangover he was sure he'd have in the morning, and he silenced the voice within with another three glasses of whiskey in a row.
Still, she'd left the Aurory - he had known that almost the moment it happened, that was how it had been between the two of them back then. She was still on "reserve", she insisted, she just didn't want to do it full time. He was glad; Hermione should have used her mind rather than putting all of her spells to use. Even if she had chosen Arithmancy over Alchemy, he would have been glad.
But not as glad.
Damn, that voice was back again. Snape frowned and poured himself another glass of Firewhiskey.
Interrupting him, a deep burgundy envelope appeared in a flash through the fireplace.
She must have gotten the note, he thought, snatching the envelope out of midair. Quickly slitting the seal, Snape just barely noticed that it was Hermione's personal seal. She must not have had time to pick up the Gryffindor stamp yet, he reasoned, and pulled out the disappointingly short note.
But thank the gods, she would speak to him.
He left the untouched glass of fresh Firewhiskey and retreated into his bedchambers. He even found a bottle of that potion for hangovers that he kept.
And for once, his dreams wouldn't be haunted by Voldemort.
AN: I know, I know, I made our dear Sevvie quite OOC, but you'll see why, quite soon.
CHAPTER FOUR
Speaking Terms
"Laurel essence," Hermione muttered at the tapestry before her, and it lifted itself away from the wall for her. Unwarding the door, Hermione entered her private chambers, only to find a deep green envelope waiting for her on her desk.
She winced, narrowing her eyes at it and wishing for once that she could actually incinerate the thing with sheer willpower. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she grabbed it, inspecting the envelope, which was crafted of fine paper - if one could call it paper.
"Snape," she mumbled as she saw the neat, precise but angular handwriting on the front addressing it to her, and the Slytherin seal stamped in the silver wax on the back. Hermione slit it open with a fingernail and pulled out a small note, on Snape's personal stationery.
Absently, Hermione noted that he must have ordered some recently; she'd never before seen stationery like this from him.
HG, Hermione read, sending a pang of nostalgia through her,
There are words that need to be said between us, regarding our last meeting. Please do me the honour of your presence in my office at four o'clock pm tomorrow afternoon, following your classes.
SS.
Hermione sighed and grabbed a quill off the stand on her desk, along with a sheet of her own personal stationery.
I will be there.
H.
Enclosing it in her own envelope, scrawling SS across the front rather than his actual name, Hermione flipped it over and stamped her own seal upon it - her initials, HEG, in the Gryffindor colours. Unfortunately, she had not yet had the time to acquire the Gryffindor stamp and had to use her personal one.
With a silent prayer that the use of her personal seal would not be misinterpreted, Hermione sent it off by Floo.
"Professor Snape's chambers!" she said, and the envelope disappeared in a puff of flame.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Snape poured himself another glass of Ogden's Firewhiskey, downing it all in one gulp.
Why did that woman have to be so damn - well, so damn HER?
He sighed and poured himself another glass, but paused before swallowing this one down as well. He didn't ordinarily drink, he realised. It was the stress of seeing HER again, he was sure of it.
What if she didn't feel it anymore? What if the spell had been broken? What if...
Snape drowned the questions in the glass of whiskey, and stopped himself before he could pour another glass.
He had to admit, he'd been almost pleasantly surprised - as he was sure had been Hermione's intention, that was how her mind worked - when he'd found that she had gotten herself that degree in Alchemy.
She always was your best student, said that annoying little voice inside of him. You knew she'd do great things. You just wanted to do them with her. Immediately, Snape decided to screw the hangover he was sure he'd have in the morning, and he silenced the voice within with another three glasses of whiskey in a row.
Still, she'd left the Aurory - he had known that almost the moment it happened, that was how it had been between the two of them back then. She was still on "reserve", she insisted, she just didn't want to do it full time. He was glad; Hermione should have used her mind rather than putting all of her spells to use. Even if she had chosen Arithmancy over Alchemy, he would have been glad.
But not as glad.
Damn, that voice was back again. Snape frowned and poured himself another glass of Firewhiskey.
Interrupting him, a deep burgundy envelope appeared in a flash through the fireplace.
She must have gotten the note, he thought, snatching the envelope out of midair. Quickly slitting the seal, Snape just barely noticed that it was Hermione's personal seal. She must not have had time to pick up the Gryffindor stamp yet, he reasoned, and pulled out the disappointingly short note.
But thank the gods, she would speak to him.
He left the untouched glass of fresh Firewhiskey and retreated into his bedchambers. He even found a bottle of that potion for hangovers that he kept.
And for once, his dreams wouldn't be haunted by Voldemort.
AN: I know, I know, I made our dear Sevvie quite OOC, but you'll see why, quite soon.