A/N - I am having so much fun with these PWP? chapters. It is a totally
different experience to the intensity of writing to a plot and a tight
plan. It's far lazier for one thing! I hope they're not too frivolous for
you all but I wanted to share them in the hope you guys enjoy them half as
much as I enjoy writing them.
Addendum Four
"shall be devoured by the fire of his jealousy" Zaphaniah 1:18
(About three weeks after Snape moving into Hermione's parent's house and just before the fateful book throwing incident.)
Snape had wondered into the upstairs kitchen to make some coffee. It still felt odd to have to make his own coffee with that weird kettle contraption. If he were at Hogwarts or at his own home, the House Elves would have brought him the best coffee available in the world in a silver service. The coffee Hermione bought at that thing called a grocery store was very good by Muggle standards but not comparable to the blends usually available to him.
It was actually his nose that had led him upstairs. Hermione was baking biscuits and she was a good cook. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised, she was good at potions and potions were far harder than baking biscuits and cakes seemed to be. The whole concept of cooking was foreign to him. He had never cooked in his life. He had always had House Elves at his constant disposal.
The kitchen smelled of rich chocolate and spices. It was heavenly. She smiled cheerfully at him and said, "help yourself to some biscuits, they're still warm". She was happily bustling around mixing and chopping, and a thick strand of her hair kept falling out of its band.
She watched him surreptitiously as he sat down wordlessly at the table and helped himself to a warm biscuit off the tray. He ate it in about 3 bites. It was a large biscuit; thick and the size of a man's palm. Hermione smiled to herself as she prepared another tray to go into the oven. His appetite was difficult to really tempt. He would eat anything put in front of him as long as it wasn't Muggle 'junk' food. He refused point blank to eat that. However, if she didn't make a point of cooking 3 proper meals a day and making treats like these biscuits, she knew that he would probably skip more meals than he ate. Without someone reminding him to eat, he could get lost in thought or some book and go an entire day without eating or drinking. He refused to eat prepared or frozen food either. She bought fresh food of the best quality and cooked it carefully. Fortunately she found cooking easy and quite enjoyed doing it anyway. She could have said, 'tough luck' and let him starve for being so picky and he would have deserved it but for some reason she just couldn't.
She knew perfectly well that Snape would like those biscuits. They were made with 70% cocoa chocolate and crammed with good quality dried fruit. The first time Snape had picked up a store bought biscuit in her kitchen he had taken one bite, wrinkled his large hawkish nose slightly and put the rest in the bin. "Harry and Ron love those biscuits," she had said to him at the time with amusement.
"They would," he had replied sardonically with a look of utter contempt on his harsh features. That had made her even more amused.
Hermione sat down at the table while she waited for the latest batch to come out of the oven. She began eating a fresh biscuit herself. By the time she had nibbled her way through one biscuit, Snape had eaten six - all in the same three-large-bite pattern. She would have questioned whether he was actually tasting them at all but she knew if they were the packaged chocolate chip biscuits that Harry and Ron loved, he would not have touched them at all even if he were starving.
Hermione felt quite pleased. It was one of her missions to feed him up a bit. He always looked so pale and hungry and whip-thin. If he kept eating those rich biscuits at that rate, she would achieve her aim faster than she hoped. She knew he could eat them until the cows came home and he'd never get fat but perhaps he wouldn't look quite so skinny and starved either. She made a mental note to keep a big biscuit jar full of these cookies permanently near the kettle where he could find them and help himself. She often wondered if other hungry looking people would have this effect on her and she doubted it. If it had been Harry or Ron who were so picky about their food, she would have let them waste away. Then again, neither Harry nor Ron would ever be that picky about food. If it was edible, they'd eat it. They were terribly easy to please. She loved them for it. If she had put the Frankfurt and Baked Bean rugby dinner they both loved in front of Snape, he would have turned up his large nose at it. Hermione almost giggled at the thought of the expression on his face if she had tried it.
Snape suddenly frowned mid-chew. "Are Harry and Ron coming here today?" he asked suspiciously, after swallowing. He immediately took another bite of his seventh biscuit.
"Yes, later this afternoon. Ron wants to see some more of my DVDs. I got some new ones the other day. Harry is coming over too," Hermione said cheerfully, knowing he'd be displeased at the news.
Snape scowled and even stopped chewing for a moment. He glanced at the kitchen clock. "When exactly?" he demanded.
"In about an hour," she replied, checking the time herself. "Harry finishes training then and Ron will be finished at the Auror Academy."
Snape's scowl grew deeper and he slouched his thin frame over the table. "I should have known when you were baking that those two were coming here," he muttered resentfully.
"If you keep eating all those biscuits, they won't get any of them anyway," she pointed out without any real rancor as he helped himself to another. She wondered that he didn't already feel violently ill. The biscuits were very rich.
"These biscuits would be wasted on those two anyway," he said disdainfully. "Give them those dreadful dry, hard, tasteless Muggle things you buy," he added unapologetically before taking another bite.
"I'm making myself some tea. Do you want some coffee?" she offered, getting up hurriedly to hide her amusement at his sulks.
He nodded and dusted the biscuit crumbs from his slender hands. "Are they going to be here half the night?" he asked sullenly.
"Nah, I doubt it. Harry has training and Ron has Auror Academy tomorrow again," she said, putting a cup of strong plunger coffee in front of him. He drank it black and without sugar. "That's going to taste foul after all those sweet biscuits," she observed.
Snape took a sip. He hated that she was right but wasn't going to admit it. He drank it before it got cold. He examined the mug with approval. It was good china, not as fine as the Snape family china or that used for the staff at Hogwarts but still good quality. At least it wasn't that dreadful, thick pottery. He refused to drink out of thick mugs or cups.
Having eaten everything worth eating in sight, Snape retired back to his rooms downstairs. He had no intention of coming back up later when Harry and Ron were there. Besides, they usually had pizza or something equally dreadful for dinner when they got together so he was glad he'd eaten as many biscuits as he'd wanted.
He heard Harry's deep tones and Ron's slightly lighter ones less than half an hour later. They were all talking nineteen to the dozen. With a grimace, he went and lay down on his bed with a book.
Hermione was glad as always to see her friends. They camped out in front of the flat screen TV with a good supply of junk food and 3 huge pizzas (of which the boys ate all but the 2 pieces Hermione had). Hermione had the new Charles Angels II movie on DVD which Hermione thought was hilarious. The boys just wanted to see Cameron Diaz, Lucy Liu and Drew Barrymore in sexy outfits.
The movie was funny and the 3 friends had a great time, cheering the unrealistic fight scenes and envying the dirt bikes. "I want a dirt bike," Harry muttered.
"Me too," Hermione agreed, her eyes glued to the screen during the stunts.
"I want Cameron Diaz," Ron said frankly.
Hermione elbowed him. "You wouldn't say that if Padma were here!" she objected sternly.
Ron's eyes grew wide. "Of course not! You won't tell her I said that, will you?" he asked anxiously.
"No," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
Snape heard the laughter from upstairs and glowered at the ceiling. It seemed his resentment of the bold, bad trio had only grown in the past month rather than receding as it should when he was no longer their teacher. He still bitterly hated Harry's father James and that hatred had spilled onto his son because the boy reminded him so strongly of James. Harry had gotten away with too much at Hogwarts just like his damn father. Snape's hooded eyes burned with anger as he pushed away the memories that he did not want to relive yet again. Ron he simply felt contempt for. The Weasleys were pure bloods and an old wizarding family but had fallen onto hard times. He did not hold that against them but Ron had gone on to become friends with Harry and his family consequently became a second family for the son of his oldest and most bitter enemy. He could not forgive them for that.
However, he did not understand why his antipathy had grown rather than lessened now that neither Harry nor Ron were his students anymore. Once he was no longer Hermione's guardian, he need never have anything to do with any of them again.
A burst of laughter over his head pulled him out of his reverie. It was Gryffindor laugher - loud and carefree. It was an alien sound to him. He had not heard it in either his own home nor in the Slytherin House growing up. He certainly did not hear it amongst the Death Eaters. It grated on his nerves. It seemed excessive to him, he did not understand it.
He got up from his bed and paced beside his bed. What was bothering him? Why was he so edgy? It couldn't just be because Harry and Ron were here. Why was their presence bothering him so much?
"What's Snape doing?" Ron asked upstairs at around that point.
"Either prowling, pacing or scowling," Hermione predicted, quite accurately.
"Or all three," Harry grinned.
"Most likely," Hermione agreed with a laugh.
"I can't get my head around the idea of having to live in the same house as Snape," Ron said, shaking his fiery head.
"It's an experience," Hermione agreed with a nod.
"Does he ever talk to you?" Ron asked curiously.
"Rarely," she replied honestly.
"Remember how much trouble he was always trying to get us in?" Ron said with a glare in the general direction of the floor.
"I think we did just fine on our own!" Hermione said with a laugh.
"He hated me. He still does," Harry said matter-of-factly.
"He hated your father," Hermione corrected him.
"In effect, it was the same thing," Harry argued. Hermione sighed at the truth of that.
Snape finally decided he couldn't stay downstairs anymore. He kicked off his boots and prowled quietly up the stairs on the pretext of getting a late night snack. From the top of the stairs he could see the backs of their heads on the couch as they watched something puzzling on that Muggle TV-thing that seemed to involve some pretty, scantily clad girls being very violent. Hermione's head was resting against Harry's messy black mop and Ron's bright head was on her other side, leaning against her shoulder. His mouth tightened. If they were just friends, why did they need so much physical contact? It wasn't natural. Slytherin friends (if they could be called 'friends' rather than alliances) did not involve any form of touching. Slytherins kept their distance and their dignity. The only time Slytherins touched each other were those in sexual relationships. The trio's affection made every muscle in Snape's body tense. It made him feel light-headed and nauseous.
Abruptly he turned and went back downstairs before they realized he was there. With a sudden shock he realized what his problem was. It was sexual jealousy, pure and simple. Ever since that night at Hogwarts where he had ended up with a painful and prolonged hard on after their confrontation in her room, he had been unable to view Hermione the same way - as just another student or ex-student. Snape had been around long enough to understand that sexual chemistry had no rhyme or reason. He didn't choose to be so strongly sexually attracted to Hermione. In fact, he wished it would just go away. However, wishing would not make it happen.
He paced in the sitting room area of his suite; tension making his slim, tall frame taunt. His dark eyes darted around the room like a trapped animal looking for an escape. He was worried. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to continue to hide his feelings from her living in such close proximity. He heard another burst of laughter from above. His lips thinned. He wanted to go upstairs and make a scene so that Ron and Harry had to leave. His lean face twisted into a scornful sneer as he contemplated how the two boys played up to her, both competing for her attention. What Snape could not recognize in his jealous state was that the bond the trio shared had more to do with the sort of deep friendship between people who have risked their lives for each other than with anything sexual at all.
Finally Harry and Ron left at around 10pm and Snape could relax. He went and lay on his bed but he did not go to sleep for long, long time.
Addendum Four
"shall be devoured by the fire of his jealousy" Zaphaniah 1:18
(About three weeks after Snape moving into Hermione's parent's house and just before the fateful book throwing incident.)
Snape had wondered into the upstairs kitchen to make some coffee. It still felt odd to have to make his own coffee with that weird kettle contraption. If he were at Hogwarts or at his own home, the House Elves would have brought him the best coffee available in the world in a silver service. The coffee Hermione bought at that thing called a grocery store was very good by Muggle standards but not comparable to the blends usually available to him.
It was actually his nose that had led him upstairs. Hermione was baking biscuits and she was a good cook. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised, she was good at potions and potions were far harder than baking biscuits and cakes seemed to be. The whole concept of cooking was foreign to him. He had never cooked in his life. He had always had House Elves at his constant disposal.
The kitchen smelled of rich chocolate and spices. It was heavenly. She smiled cheerfully at him and said, "help yourself to some biscuits, they're still warm". She was happily bustling around mixing and chopping, and a thick strand of her hair kept falling out of its band.
She watched him surreptitiously as he sat down wordlessly at the table and helped himself to a warm biscuit off the tray. He ate it in about 3 bites. It was a large biscuit; thick and the size of a man's palm. Hermione smiled to herself as she prepared another tray to go into the oven. His appetite was difficult to really tempt. He would eat anything put in front of him as long as it wasn't Muggle 'junk' food. He refused point blank to eat that. However, if she didn't make a point of cooking 3 proper meals a day and making treats like these biscuits, she knew that he would probably skip more meals than he ate. Without someone reminding him to eat, he could get lost in thought or some book and go an entire day without eating or drinking. He refused to eat prepared or frozen food either. She bought fresh food of the best quality and cooked it carefully. Fortunately she found cooking easy and quite enjoyed doing it anyway. She could have said, 'tough luck' and let him starve for being so picky and he would have deserved it but for some reason she just couldn't.
She knew perfectly well that Snape would like those biscuits. They were made with 70% cocoa chocolate and crammed with good quality dried fruit. The first time Snape had picked up a store bought biscuit in her kitchen he had taken one bite, wrinkled his large hawkish nose slightly and put the rest in the bin. "Harry and Ron love those biscuits," she had said to him at the time with amusement.
"They would," he had replied sardonically with a look of utter contempt on his harsh features. That had made her even more amused.
Hermione sat down at the table while she waited for the latest batch to come out of the oven. She began eating a fresh biscuit herself. By the time she had nibbled her way through one biscuit, Snape had eaten six - all in the same three-large-bite pattern. She would have questioned whether he was actually tasting them at all but she knew if they were the packaged chocolate chip biscuits that Harry and Ron loved, he would not have touched them at all even if he were starving.
Hermione felt quite pleased. It was one of her missions to feed him up a bit. He always looked so pale and hungry and whip-thin. If he kept eating those rich biscuits at that rate, she would achieve her aim faster than she hoped. She knew he could eat them until the cows came home and he'd never get fat but perhaps he wouldn't look quite so skinny and starved either. She made a mental note to keep a big biscuit jar full of these cookies permanently near the kettle where he could find them and help himself. She often wondered if other hungry looking people would have this effect on her and she doubted it. If it had been Harry or Ron who were so picky about their food, she would have let them waste away. Then again, neither Harry nor Ron would ever be that picky about food. If it was edible, they'd eat it. They were terribly easy to please. She loved them for it. If she had put the Frankfurt and Baked Bean rugby dinner they both loved in front of Snape, he would have turned up his large nose at it. Hermione almost giggled at the thought of the expression on his face if she had tried it.
Snape suddenly frowned mid-chew. "Are Harry and Ron coming here today?" he asked suspiciously, after swallowing. He immediately took another bite of his seventh biscuit.
"Yes, later this afternoon. Ron wants to see some more of my DVDs. I got some new ones the other day. Harry is coming over too," Hermione said cheerfully, knowing he'd be displeased at the news.
Snape scowled and even stopped chewing for a moment. He glanced at the kitchen clock. "When exactly?" he demanded.
"In about an hour," she replied, checking the time herself. "Harry finishes training then and Ron will be finished at the Auror Academy."
Snape's scowl grew deeper and he slouched his thin frame over the table. "I should have known when you were baking that those two were coming here," he muttered resentfully.
"If you keep eating all those biscuits, they won't get any of them anyway," she pointed out without any real rancor as he helped himself to another. She wondered that he didn't already feel violently ill. The biscuits were very rich.
"These biscuits would be wasted on those two anyway," he said disdainfully. "Give them those dreadful dry, hard, tasteless Muggle things you buy," he added unapologetically before taking another bite.
"I'm making myself some tea. Do you want some coffee?" she offered, getting up hurriedly to hide her amusement at his sulks.
He nodded and dusted the biscuit crumbs from his slender hands. "Are they going to be here half the night?" he asked sullenly.
"Nah, I doubt it. Harry has training and Ron has Auror Academy tomorrow again," she said, putting a cup of strong plunger coffee in front of him. He drank it black and without sugar. "That's going to taste foul after all those sweet biscuits," she observed.
Snape took a sip. He hated that she was right but wasn't going to admit it. He drank it before it got cold. He examined the mug with approval. It was good china, not as fine as the Snape family china or that used for the staff at Hogwarts but still good quality. At least it wasn't that dreadful, thick pottery. He refused to drink out of thick mugs or cups.
Having eaten everything worth eating in sight, Snape retired back to his rooms downstairs. He had no intention of coming back up later when Harry and Ron were there. Besides, they usually had pizza or something equally dreadful for dinner when they got together so he was glad he'd eaten as many biscuits as he'd wanted.
He heard Harry's deep tones and Ron's slightly lighter ones less than half an hour later. They were all talking nineteen to the dozen. With a grimace, he went and lay down on his bed with a book.
Hermione was glad as always to see her friends. They camped out in front of the flat screen TV with a good supply of junk food and 3 huge pizzas (of which the boys ate all but the 2 pieces Hermione had). Hermione had the new Charles Angels II movie on DVD which Hermione thought was hilarious. The boys just wanted to see Cameron Diaz, Lucy Liu and Drew Barrymore in sexy outfits.
The movie was funny and the 3 friends had a great time, cheering the unrealistic fight scenes and envying the dirt bikes. "I want a dirt bike," Harry muttered.
"Me too," Hermione agreed, her eyes glued to the screen during the stunts.
"I want Cameron Diaz," Ron said frankly.
Hermione elbowed him. "You wouldn't say that if Padma were here!" she objected sternly.
Ron's eyes grew wide. "Of course not! You won't tell her I said that, will you?" he asked anxiously.
"No," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
Snape heard the laughter from upstairs and glowered at the ceiling. It seemed his resentment of the bold, bad trio had only grown in the past month rather than receding as it should when he was no longer their teacher. He still bitterly hated Harry's father James and that hatred had spilled onto his son because the boy reminded him so strongly of James. Harry had gotten away with too much at Hogwarts just like his damn father. Snape's hooded eyes burned with anger as he pushed away the memories that he did not want to relive yet again. Ron he simply felt contempt for. The Weasleys were pure bloods and an old wizarding family but had fallen onto hard times. He did not hold that against them but Ron had gone on to become friends with Harry and his family consequently became a second family for the son of his oldest and most bitter enemy. He could not forgive them for that.
However, he did not understand why his antipathy had grown rather than lessened now that neither Harry nor Ron were his students anymore. Once he was no longer Hermione's guardian, he need never have anything to do with any of them again.
A burst of laughter over his head pulled him out of his reverie. It was Gryffindor laugher - loud and carefree. It was an alien sound to him. He had not heard it in either his own home nor in the Slytherin House growing up. He certainly did not hear it amongst the Death Eaters. It grated on his nerves. It seemed excessive to him, he did not understand it.
He got up from his bed and paced beside his bed. What was bothering him? Why was he so edgy? It couldn't just be because Harry and Ron were here. Why was their presence bothering him so much?
"What's Snape doing?" Ron asked upstairs at around that point.
"Either prowling, pacing or scowling," Hermione predicted, quite accurately.
"Or all three," Harry grinned.
"Most likely," Hermione agreed with a laugh.
"I can't get my head around the idea of having to live in the same house as Snape," Ron said, shaking his fiery head.
"It's an experience," Hermione agreed with a nod.
"Does he ever talk to you?" Ron asked curiously.
"Rarely," she replied honestly.
"Remember how much trouble he was always trying to get us in?" Ron said with a glare in the general direction of the floor.
"I think we did just fine on our own!" Hermione said with a laugh.
"He hated me. He still does," Harry said matter-of-factly.
"He hated your father," Hermione corrected him.
"In effect, it was the same thing," Harry argued. Hermione sighed at the truth of that.
Snape finally decided he couldn't stay downstairs anymore. He kicked off his boots and prowled quietly up the stairs on the pretext of getting a late night snack. From the top of the stairs he could see the backs of their heads on the couch as they watched something puzzling on that Muggle TV-thing that seemed to involve some pretty, scantily clad girls being very violent. Hermione's head was resting against Harry's messy black mop and Ron's bright head was on her other side, leaning against her shoulder. His mouth tightened. If they were just friends, why did they need so much physical contact? It wasn't natural. Slytherin friends (if they could be called 'friends' rather than alliances) did not involve any form of touching. Slytherins kept their distance and their dignity. The only time Slytherins touched each other were those in sexual relationships. The trio's affection made every muscle in Snape's body tense. It made him feel light-headed and nauseous.
Abruptly he turned and went back downstairs before they realized he was there. With a sudden shock he realized what his problem was. It was sexual jealousy, pure and simple. Ever since that night at Hogwarts where he had ended up with a painful and prolonged hard on after their confrontation in her room, he had been unable to view Hermione the same way - as just another student or ex-student. Snape had been around long enough to understand that sexual chemistry had no rhyme or reason. He didn't choose to be so strongly sexually attracted to Hermione. In fact, he wished it would just go away. However, wishing would not make it happen.
He paced in the sitting room area of his suite; tension making his slim, tall frame taunt. His dark eyes darted around the room like a trapped animal looking for an escape. He was worried. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to continue to hide his feelings from her living in such close proximity. He heard another burst of laughter from above. His lips thinned. He wanted to go upstairs and make a scene so that Ron and Harry had to leave. His lean face twisted into a scornful sneer as he contemplated how the two boys played up to her, both competing for her attention. What Snape could not recognize in his jealous state was that the bond the trio shared had more to do with the sort of deep friendship between people who have risked their lives for each other than with anything sexual at all.
Finally Harry and Ron left at around 10pm and Snape could relax. He went and lay on his bed but he did not go to sleep for long, long time.
