Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K.Rowling~
A/N: I got bored last night while trying to get to sleep, and decided to write a very short fic about Serverus' thoughts on Hermione. If the thought of Hermione and Snape makes you squick, then I advise you don't read it.
Rated for implications.
Unwanted Emotions
And there she was, seated at the table furthest away from everyone. Instead of fellow classmates to keep her company while she worked, she kept piles of books scattered around her. To one who also rejected humankind for books, it seemed almost as if the leather-bound pages were a security blanket. People were discouraged from intelligence, preferring to laugh and play outside in the sun. He knew that she liked that arrangement, too. No one would disturb her while she worked, save for the rare remark from the odd student who lingered around to grab a book they needed while they rushed their already overdue homework. She could bury herself in books all day and find herself satisfied beyond anything else at the end of the day .
Ah, if only I could show her physical satisfaction, mused the pale observer from his shadowy corner in the restricted section of the library. He had been visiting the library frequently in the past couple of weeks with the knowledge that she would be there. His prized student. The student who he dreamt about. The student who he yearned for. The student who, one day, would be his.
A sour chuckle almost gave his position away. Dreaming and lusting did not make reality. No, he knew from past experiences that wishing and wishing and wishing something would happen or something could be undone was futile. All you did was damage your soul even further. The only means of repairing yourself was by building stone walls up around yourself, closely followed by steel shields. Nerves of ice. A cool and calm disposition. A personality which struck fear into the hearts of the lesser so they would turn and flee away from you rather than come to you for advice when they were hurting.
Oh, how he wished the girl with the tumbling curls would approach him for advice.
And there he was dreaming again. Annoyed that he could so easily be sucked back into his fantasy world, the man whirled to face the bookshelf and quickly scanned the titles of the books. He wasn't looking for anything in particular - other than the girl - but the logical side of his brain told him that he might as well pick something up for a light read while he was at it.
Happily his eye landed on a particular book he had enjoyed reading. Glad to have something to keep his mind off her, he extended a pale, bony hand upwards to pluck the said book from the shelf. As he reached up, he felt the back of his long, flowing robes being twitched as someone walked past him a little too closely. Putting on his most fearsome snarl, the man whirled around and stalked down the gangway, dark robes billowing out behind him.
However, he soon stopped short when he realised who had brushed past him. It was none other than the fascinating female he had been watching only a few moments ago. Not wanting to go back to his cold chambers without hearing her sweet feminine voice, he resumed his swift movements until he was practically breathing down her neck.
"Hermione Granger," he said his softest, yet deadliest, tone.
Obviously she hadn't realised he was there in the first place, because as soon as he had spoken she let out an unplanned squeak of surprise, nearly dropping the book she had only just picked up. Her eyes were wide with startlement and when they were trained on him, it was all he could do not to dive forward and press his mouth against her lips.
She looked beautiful when she was frightened.
"P-professor Snape?" she stammered, clutching the book to her chest as if it were a shield. Smothering a smile of amusement, Snape waited for a few long seconds, simply staring down into her eyes to further his intimidation of her. Ever so slowly, his gaze lowered down to her chest so he could read the title of the book she was clinging to. When his lazy stare eventually slid back to her face, there was a delightful flush in her cheeks.
"You have a good taste in authors, Granger." He continued, never letting his dark eyes move from her hazel ones. "I would suggest looking at Mills after you're done with him."
Snape very slightly nodded his head at the stunned girl, turned around and walked back the way he came, elegant fingers liberating the volume he wished to read later on that evening. He ignored Madam Pince's hard stare as he strode out of the library; she annoyed him to no end and he avoided her as often as it was in his power.
Although it was highly difficult not to turn around and say goodbye to his beloved Hermione, Snape managed to get out of the door in one piece. Making sure no one was around, he let a secretive smile curve his lips upwards. He hadn't needed to look at Hermione before he left like he usually did - he knew that as he had exited his back was being burnt by the intensity of her bewildered stare. He had given her a mere glimpse of what the true Severus Snape was like inside, and he was beginning to wonder if she had liked.
As he climbed down the elegantly carved stairs leading to his icy sanctuary, Snape allowed the flicker of a smile to turn into a chuckle of glee. A thought had occurred to him, and he liked it.
Perhaps my little bookworm will come crawling to me after all.
~fin~