Chpt3: All At Once.
He swept towards her, cloak billowing slightly as he moved, and slammed his hands onto the small table she was at. "What the hell are you doing here again" he snarled at her, strands of his straight, black hair falling over his face.
"Excuse me?" she asked, as innocently as she could possibly manage. "Don't toy with me." // That is exactly what I am intent on doing, Snape. // She thought, before smiling sweetly, and saying:
"I thought I might have a butterbeer. Would you care to join me, Mr Snape?"
He narrowed his eyes, and his face seemed to contort painfully. Hermione could almost see the thoughts running through his head with lightning speed, as he sought out a way in which to deal with her. He straightened, and stared down at her, his form looming above her like a tall, black pillar. He sneered.
Oh, the most daring heart would crumble with one of those looks, as he made your very core feel inadequate and insignificant. "No, Miss Gates, I would not." She stood up, and faced him, his cold eyes boring into hers as she resisted the desperate urge to flinch, and look away. After a moment, he stiffly nodded his farewell, and departed. // Did I just do that? // She collapsed back into the chair, her hands trembling. // Did I just stand up there and face him? Snape, of all people, what the hell is going on?!! //
All thoughts of butterbeer forgotten, she found herself standing, and stepping out into the darkened street. She had the vague idea of making her way back into Honeydukes, and back to school, but something stopped her.
Hermione paused, her hand outstretched towards the shop's door-handle, and one foot on the low step that was at its entrance.
He was there, she could feel it. She could sense him, everywhere. She turned around, and squinted her eyes, trying to find him in the shadows. "Where are you, Snape." She breathed, to herself, and let out a high pitched shriek when the reply came into her ear, directly beside her. "Where do you think?" A few people who were still outside shopping looked up at her, and she tried to smile, pretending to shrug it off.
He was right there, inches away, his cold breath on her face as she shied away from him.
"What do you want?!" She squealed, taking a tentative step back.
He stepped towards her again.
"I'm trying to figure out," he paused, his lips twisting slightly, "I'm trying to figure out why you are such an inadequate liar, and whether you thought that I might actually fall for your contorted tales."
"What.." "What am I talking about? You know exactly what, but I don't think I'm going to do anything about it on this occasion. You see, there is absolutely no record that a witch by the name of Heather Gates has ever existed, and I find mirages rather intriguing."
"You have obviously made a mistake, I suggest that you."
// What the hell is going on! // Hermione found herself thinking once more. He had suddenly leaned forward, and caught her mouth in his, before biting hard on her bottom lip. She sharply pulled away, and stumbled backwards.
"Oh my God! Professor!" She cried, her eyes becoming ever wider.
"Shut up." He said, grabbing her wrist, and apparating them both into a part of the village that she didn't recognise.
"I don't think I'm going to kill you, you know." He cooed into her ear, gripping her jaw in his hand. "Not right now, anyway."
He swept towards her, cloak billowing slightly as he moved, and slammed his hands onto the small table she was at. "What the hell are you doing here again" he snarled at her, strands of his straight, black hair falling over his face.
"Excuse me?" she asked, as innocently as she could possibly manage. "Don't toy with me." // That is exactly what I am intent on doing, Snape. // She thought, before smiling sweetly, and saying:
"I thought I might have a butterbeer. Would you care to join me, Mr Snape?"
He narrowed his eyes, and his face seemed to contort painfully. Hermione could almost see the thoughts running through his head with lightning speed, as he sought out a way in which to deal with her. He straightened, and stared down at her, his form looming above her like a tall, black pillar. He sneered.
Oh, the most daring heart would crumble with one of those looks, as he made your very core feel inadequate and insignificant. "No, Miss Gates, I would not." She stood up, and faced him, his cold eyes boring into hers as she resisted the desperate urge to flinch, and look away. After a moment, he stiffly nodded his farewell, and departed. // Did I just do that? // She collapsed back into the chair, her hands trembling. // Did I just stand up there and face him? Snape, of all people, what the hell is going on?!! //
All thoughts of butterbeer forgotten, she found herself standing, and stepping out into the darkened street. She had the vague idea of making her way back into Honeydukes, and back to school, but something stopped her.
Hermione paused, her hand outstretched towards the shop's door-handle, and one foot on the low step that was at its entrance.
He was there, she could feel it. She could sense him, everywhere. She turned around, and squinted her eyes, trying to find him in the shadows. "Where are you, Snape." She breathed, to herself, and let out a high pitched shriek when the reply came into her ear, directly beside her. "Where do you think?" A few people who were still outside shopping looked up at her, and she tried to smile, pretending to shrug it off.
He was right there, inches away, his cold breath on her face as she shied away from him.
"What do you want?!" She squealed, taking a tentative step back.
He stepped towards her again.
"I'm trying to figure out," he paused, his lips twisting slightly, "I'm trying to figure out why you are such an inadequate liar, and whether you thought that I might actually fall for your contorted tales."
"What.." "What am I talking about? You know exactly what, but I don't think I'm going to do anything about it on this occasion. You see, there is absolutely no record that a witch by the name of Heather Gates has ever existed, and I find mirages rather intriguing."
"You have obviously made a mistake, I suggest that you."
// What the hell is going on! // Hermione found herself thinking once more. He had suddenly leaned forward, and caught her mouth in his, before biting hard on her bottom lip. She sharply pulled away, and stumbled backwards.
"Oh my God! Professor!" She cried, her eyes becoming ever wider.
"Shut up." He said, grabbing her wrist, and apparating them both into a part of the village that she didn't recognise.
"I don't think I'm going to kill you, you know." He cooed into her ear, gripping her jaw in his hand. "Not right now, anyway."