I donated all characters to the "J.K needs a book" fund. Nah, I lie!
As Hagrid's cockrel began to crow, Severus Snape began to stir, his room gradually coming into focus. He recalled what had happened last night, and wished he could go back to sleep again, for fear of having to run into Miss Granger again. He wondered if she had realised anything between them, or whether this entire happening was just one way. Did she know? Was she feeling the same? Though Severus couldn't possibly know, the problem, answer and solution lay in a bed in the Gryffindor tower, staring at her ceiling.
Sitting down at the table, Dumbledore immediately sensed the tension between Snape and Hermione, though it wasn't the usual dislike there had once been but a feeling of coyness and confusion. There was only one way to find out what was going on and that was to ask the two people involved but how much would they divulge? With Severus to his immediate right, Dumbledore struck up a conversation, planning on leading any topics towards Miss Granger.
"So, Severus, I understand you have been teaching your classes how to make a polyjuice potion?" Dumbledore began.
"Yes, Headmaster," responded Snape, saying nothing more than he needed to.
"If I remember rightly, Miss Granger made a particularly fine one in her second year, concluding in Mr Weasley and Mr Potter entering your house tower." Dumbledore chuckled, though watched Snape's reaction carefully. There was no answer and Snape's face gave nothing away. "How are you getting on with Miss Granger, Severus?" persued Dumbledore.
"We are civilised, as I planned to be, but there was never an love lost, was there?" Dumbledore traced bitterness in Snape's voice and it suddenly became clear. Snape and Miss Granger had forged an attraction, it seemed. Was this a good or bad thing, though? Dumbledore began to rack his mind. One the one hand, Hermione could entirely good for Severus as he could for her, he would be happy and she would have someone to confide her grief in, but on the other hand, was she not too young, too unsure about herself for this kind of thing? Dumbledore concluded that it was a good thing, and would try to give it a push in the right direction, and see where that took them.
Hermione marked the essays on boggarts as she sat drinking a glass of butterbeer in the staffroom. She hadn't run into Snape that day at all which she was finding quite agreeable because every time she encountered him, it left her feeling bare, and unsure of herself and her thoughts. At that point, Professor Dumbledore walked in, smiled at her and sat down, indicating that he would like to speak with her. Hermione set down the essays immediately, giving Dumbledore her full attention.
"Miss Granger, I have been thinking and have come to the conclusion, it would be in the best interest of the students, and yourself of course, if instead of teaching Defense against the dark arts all week, you were to teach some potions lessons as well, and Professor Snape shall teach some Defense lessons. It is only a trial and I believe it will be helpful as different children learn in different ways, some learning better with certain teachers. Is that ok with you?"
Hermione's heart began to sink, she knew where this was going, "Yes, of course, Professor Dumbledore."
"Great," said Dumbledore triumphantly, "I shall leave it to you and Professor Snape to arrange which lessons will be taught by whom. Good day Miss Granger." He bowed and glided out of the room, leaving Hermione to sigh in resignation.
Glancing nervously around, at nothing in particular, Hermione crept down the stairs leading to the dungeon, in which potions was taught. She hadn't been down her since her last year in Hogwarts, and potions, even then, hadn't been pleasant for anyone other than those chosen for Slytherin. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door, and when the deep, disdainful voice beckoned her in, she entered, not knowing what to expect.
"Professor Snape, I presume Professor Dumbledore has been to see you about his trial teaching plan?" Hermione said, trying to sound confident, which under the circumstances, came off quite well.
"Miss Granger, your presumption is true, and since I am doing nothing of importance, I shall arrange things with you now, if only to get the bothersome task out of the way," He scowled. Hermione said nothing in return, only pulled up a chair to his desk, hoping he wouldn't be this unpleasant for the whole hour.
"Also, I was wondering if, and only if you had the time, you would show me some of the most advanced potions you know, just for g-g-good measure?" Hermione began to stammer as his eyes, dark and bottomless, directed themselves into hers.
"I'm sure it could be arranged," Snape replied, his voice devoid of any emotions, which Hermione found worse than dealing with his unhappiness. As they discussed when they would teach each subject, and what they would teach, Hermione wondered what had made him so dark, so unhappy, so needy. She had never been a fan of Severus's but was his nature due to something deeper? She couldn't help but guess, until she was startled by Snape, hitting his head on a shelf bearing ingredients, and a trickle of blood ran down the side of his face. Finding a piece of cloth and dipping it in water, she walked briskly towards Snape,and without thinking, caught hold of his chin and began to wipe the blood away, not realising what she was doing until their eyes met. She slowly put the cloth down, and turned to Severus.
"You should get that checked out by Madame Pompfrey," and with that, put her head down, walked out of the room, leaving Snape with his mouth hanging open in surprise.
How could I have not realised what she was doing? Hermione pondered, getting angry with herself, realising she had brought back all those old feelings to herself. What was even more worrying was that Snape hadn't said anything, he had just stood there, looking shocked, as shocked as she felt when she cottoned on to what she had proceeded with. Hermione relived the embarrassment, without trying to, it being a natural instinct. Quite obviously, the solution was to never look at Snape again, no matter how impossible.
On the other end, Snape was just as shocked and confused as Hermione. He had felt her hand on his face, and he had watched her gaze upon him, fixated and concerned. It hadn't been defiant or proud like he had known her to be before, it had been warm, kind, and had left him with a sense of longing for more. Snape cursed Dumbledore and his silly ideas and the memory of Hermione's smooth skin had caressed his, how he had experienced the scent of lavender, one of those natural skin lotions no doubt, that Miss Granger had always had the knack of making. When she had caught herself though, she had closed all the doors just opened though, and left him, feeling more alone than he had ever felt before.
Dumbledore had found out what had happened in the dungeons from a portrait of his old friend, Armando, who had moved frames to keep an eye out from Dumbledore. He was thorougly pleased with the way things had gone and set to putting phase two into action.
***
"A masked ball?" The girls squealed with excitement at such a prospect.
"Yes, you heard me correctly," Dumbledore's voice boomed out over the Great Hall, "You will all be able to go to Hogsmeades, those in years one or two, with your house leader, and choose your masks and outfits. I hope you will enjoy it. You have a fortnight to prepare and to ask a partner if you so wish. Enjoy your day!" And with that, he strode out, signalling the end of breakfast, and the beginning of lessons.
Hermione's potions class, fourth years, and considerably hormonal, were finding it hard to concentrate, which Hermione had no problem with because she felt exactly the same way.
"Ok, class, you may pack away, regardless of the ten minutes left, but its only this once!" She knew when she had been defeated, not only by the class but by herself as well. A couple of girls, Thaila and Sabriel, stood whispering in the corner, looking Hermione's way. Sabriel, who reminded Hermione of herself in some ways, other than the gossiping trait Sabriel had picked up, approached Hermione and smiled.
"Professor Granger, are you going to the ball?" She asked.
"Well, I expect so, though I have no idea what kind of mask I will have," returned Hermione, not bothering to surpress the smile.
"I want to be a butterfly, I think but I don't think I'll ask anybody to go with me. I'd be too shy!" Sabriel went on. Hermione liked Sabriel, considered her as one of the best students. She frowned, thinking about whether she would ask, or be asked to the ball, deciding she would not ask anybody. Sabriel broke her thoughts. "Are you ok, Professor?"
"Fine" said Hermione, replacing her smile. "I don't believe I will ask anyone either."
"What about if Professor Snape asked you, would you go with him then?" and it was only when Sabriel left the classroom that Hermione realised Sabriel had mentioned his name, as if she already knew something Hermione didn't.
*Keep reviewing people! Hope you like this Chapter*
As Hagrid's cockrel began to crow, Severus Snape began to stir, his room gradually coming into focus. He recalled what had happened last night, and wished he could go back to sleep again, for fear of having to run into Miss Granger again. He wondered if she had realised anything between them, or whether this entire happening was just one way. Did she know? Was she feeling the same? Though Severus couldn't possibly know, the problem, answer and solution lay in a bed in the Gryffindor tower, staring at her ceiling.
Sitting down at the table, Dumbledore immediately sensed the tension between Snape and Hermione, though it wasn't the usual dislike there had once been but a feeling of coyness and confusion. There was only one way to find out what was going on and that was to ask the two people involved but how much would they divulge? With Severus to his immediate right, Dumbledore struck up a conversation, planning on leading any topics towards Miss Granger.
"So, Severus, I understand you have been teaching your classes how to make a polyjuice potion?" Dumbledore began.
"Yes, Headmaster," responded Snape, saying nothing more than he needed to.
"If I remember rightly, Miss Granger made a particularly fine one in her second year, concluding in Mr Weasley and Mr Potter entering your house tower." Dumbledore chuckled, though watched Snape's reaction carefully. There was no answer and Snape's face gave nothing away. "How are you getting on with Miss Granger, Severus?" persued Dumbledore.
"We are civilised, as I planned to be, but there was never an love lost, was there?" Dumbledore traced bitterness in Snape's voice and it suddenly became clear. Snape and Miss Granger had forged an attraction, it seemed. Was this a good or bad thing, though? Dumbledore began to rack his mind. One the one hand, Hermione could entirely good for Severus as he could for her, he would be happy and she would have someone to confide her grief in, but on the other hand, was she not too young, too unsure about herself for this kind of thing? Dumbledore concluded that it was a good thing, and would try to give it a push in the right direction, and see where that took them.
Hermione marked the essays on boggarts as she sat drinking a glass of butterbeer in the staffroom. She hadn't run into Snape that day at all which she was finding quite agreeable because every time she encountered him, it left her feeling bare, and unsure of herself and her thoughts. At that point, Professor Dumbledore walked in, smiled at her and sat down, indicating that he would like to speak with her. Hermione set down the essays immediately, giving Dumbledore her full attention.
"Miss Granger, I have been thinking and have come to the conclusion, it would be in the best interest of the students, and yourself of course, if instead of teaching Defense against the dark arts all week, you were to teach some potions lessons as well, and Professor Snape shall teach some Defense lessons. It is only a trial and I believe it will be helpful as different children learn in different ways, some learning better with certain teachers. Is that ok with you?"
Hermione's heart began to sink, she knew where this was going, "Yes, of course, Professor Dumbledore."
"Great," said Dumbledore triumphantly, "I shall leave it to you and Professor Snape to arrange which lessons will be taught by whom. Good day Miss Granger." He bowed and glided out of the room, leaving Hermione to sigh in resignation.
Glancing nervously around, at nothing in particular, Hermione crept down the stairs leading to the dungeon, in which potions was taught. She hadn't been down her since her last year in Hogwarts, and potions, even then, hadn't been pleasant for anyone other than those chosen for Slytherin. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door, and when the deep, disdainful voice beckoned her in, she entered, not knowing what to expect.
"Professor Snape, I presume Professor Dumbledore has been to see you about his trial teaching plan?" Hermione said, trying to sound confident, which under the circumstances, came off quite well.
"Miss Granger, your presumption is true, and since I am doing nothing of importance, I shall arrange things with you now, if only to get the bothersome task out of the way," He scowled. Hermione said nothing in return, only pulled up a chair to his desk, hoping he wouldn't be this unpleasant for the whole hour.
"Also, I was wondering if, and only if you had the time, you would show me some of the most advanced potions you know, just for g-g-good measure?" Hermione began to stammer as his eyes, dark and bottomless, directed themselves into hers.
"I'm sure it could be arranged," Snape replied, his voice devoid of any emotions, which Hermione found worse than dealing with his unhappiness. As they discussed when they would teach each subject, and what they would teach, Hermione wondered what had made him so dark, so unhappy, so needy. She had never been a fan of Severus's but was his nature due to something deeper? She couldn't help but guess, until she was startled by Snape, hitting his head on a shelf bearing ingredients, and a trickle of blood ran down the side of his face. Finding a piece of cloth and dipping it in water, she walked briskly towards Snape,and without thinking, caught hold of his chin and began to wipe the blood away, not realising what she was doing until their eyes met. She slowly put the cloth down, and turned to Severus.
"You should get that checked out by Madame Pompfrey," and with that, put her head down, walked out of the room, leaving Snape with his mouth hanging open in surprise.
How could I have not realised what she was doing? Hermione pondered, getting angry with herself, realising she had brought back all those old feelings to herself. What was even more worrying was that Snape hadn't said anything, he had just stood there, looking shocked, as shocked as she felt when she cottoned on to what she had proceeded with. Hermione relived the embarrassment, without trying to, it being a natural instinct. Quite obviously, the solution was to never look at Snape again, no matter how impossible.
On the other end, Snape was just as shocked and confused as Hermione. He had felt her hand on his face, and he had watched her gaze upon him, fixated and concerned. It hadn't been defiant or proud like he had known her to be before, it had been warm, kind, and had left him with a sense of longing for more. Snape cursed Dumbledore and his silly ideas and the memory of Hermione's smooth skin had caressed his, how he had experienced the scent of lavender, one of those natural skin lotions no doubt, that Miss Granger had always had the knack of making. When she had caught herself though, she had closed all the doors just opened though, and left him, feeling more alone than he had ever felt before.
Dumbledore had found out what had happened in the dungeons from a portrait of his old friend, Armando, who had moved frames to keep an eye out from Dumbledore. He was thorougly pleased with the way things had gone and set to putting phase two into action.
***
"A masked ball?" The girls squealed with excitement at such a prospect.
"Yes, you heard me correctly," Dumbledore's voice boomed out over the Great Hall, "You will all be able to go to Hogsmeades, those in years one or two, with your house leader, and choose your masks and outfits. I hope you will enjoy it. You have a fortnight to prepare and to ask a partner if you so wish. Enjoy your day!" And with that, he strode out, signalling the end of breakfast, and the beginning of lessons.
Hermione's potions class, fourth years, and considerably hormonal, were finding it hard to concentrate, which Hermione had no problem with because she felt exactly the same way.
"Ok, class, you may pack away, regardless of the ten minutes left, but its only this once!" She knew when she had been defeated, not only by the class but by herself as well. A couple of girls, Thaila and Sabriel, stood whispering in the corner, looking Hermione's way. Sabriel, who reminded Hermione of herself in some ways, other than the gossiping trait Sabriel had picked up, approached Hermione and smiled.
"Professor Granger, are you going to the ball?" She asked.
"Well, I expect so, though I have no idea what kind of mask I will have," returned Hermione, not bothering to surpress the smile.
"I want to be a butterfly, I think but I don't think I'll ask anybody to go with me. I'd be too shy!" Sabriel went on. Hermione liked Sabriel, considered her as one of the best students. She frowned, thinking about whether she would ask, or be asked to the ball, deciding she would not ask anybody. Sabriel broke her thoughts. "Are you ok, Professor?"
"Fine" said Hermione, replacing her smile. "I don't believe I will ask anyone either."
"What about if Professor Snape asked you, would you go with him then?" and it was only when Sabriel left the classroom that Hermione realised Sabriel had mentioned his name, as if she already knew something Hermione didn't.
*Keep reviewing people! Hope you like this Chapter*