Follow My Way
3- Distraction
***
"And hope in those squeaky clean eyes
You'll get chilly receptions everywhere you go
Blinded with desire - guess the season is on" -"Teenage Wildlife" David Bowie
***
She was running again, her heart beating painfully in her chest. Behind her someone was in pursuit, their footsteps clumsier than hers. Her footsteps made no sounds against the forest floor, nor did they on the grass as she burst onto Hogwarts grounds.
Bare feet touched the dew touched grass sending a chill through her and a smile to her lips. There was no fear as she glanced over her shoulder at the man behind her, it only caused her smile to widen. There was challenge in his gaze, he exuded arrogance that his longer strides would overcome her in the end. Hermione struggled to hold in her laughter. Surely he knew she wasn't trying to escape him?
Rounding the edge of the lake she changed their course toward the distant greenhouses and the sleeping gardens. A slight breeze stirred, fanning the runners with balmy air and ruffling the already short fabric of Hermione's skirt. She was closing in on her destination, well ahead of him when the moon caught her eye.
Beautiful.
The luminous disc was just short of full, but it dominated the sky and put the millions of tiny stars to shame. So familiar the moon looked, she realized as she came to the iron gate of the closed garden. Pushing the thought from her mind as she pushed the barred gate open and walked through. The moon could never live up to the pure earthy beauty of what was laid out before her.
The high stone walls were completely covered with vines, most full of tightly closed roses in the darkest of colors. The perfect lawn wasn't marred with a walkway, but a natural one was created by artfully placed fruit-trees, each perfectly kept and heavy with their seasonal burden. Awe stopped her in her tracks and with that she lost her advantage. Instantly sure hands were on her waist and warm breath was on her neck.
"20 Points from Gryffindor, Ms. Granger," the silky voice purred close to her ear. "I do believe that you wanted to be caught."
Turning so that she faced him, Hermione looked up into his dark eyes. "Was there ever any question, Proffessor?"
The growl that escaped his throat made her breath catch in her throat. Before she could speak again his mouth roughly claimed hers, while his cool hands found their way to her bare back. Her toes dug into the grass as one hand gripped her hips and lowered her down onto the grass. With a subtle push of her powers they both found themselves unclothed and exposed to the other.
Breaking the kiss, Snape inclined an eyebrow at the girl beneath him. "You're a very presumptous girl, using your magic in such a way."
Smiling cattily, Hermione slowley shifted her hips beneath him. "I wouldn't call it presumptous... more like impatient?"
"Indeed," he drawled in response, stopping her hip movement with one long fingered hand. Biting her lip Hermione kept his gaze as his fingers caressed her hip before fanning then across her pelvic bone. Tensing her toes, she tried not to make a sound as he pressed one finger into the wetness between her thighs. "Patience is a virtue, didn't your mother ever teach that?"
"No," she murmmered as he claimed her mouth with another searing kiss, pressing her into the damp grass. Grasping his shoulders as he skillfuly teased her with his tongue and fingers, she let out a broken moan into his mouth. Somewhere in the back of her brain something was screaming at her to stop, that what she was doing was wrong and that she needed to think. It was impossible to think with the way he was touching her, but she couldn't shake the feeling of dread.
With resolve she opened her eyes, ready to voice her worry… and caught sight of the high ceiling above her. The moon had vanished along with the garden, the grass and.... Snape. With a sight she jerked the heavy blankets up over her head and yelled, "You're losing your mind, Granger."
It had all been a dream, a very realistic dream. Her body was humming with the desire the images had caused, she was painfully aware of the way her nightshirt rubbed across her chest with each breath. Reaching a hand down into her panties she found that she was very wet, and sensitive to the touch. It was all her over-active imaginations fault. Her imagination, that blasted casement, and if Snape was her dream lover it had to be chalked up to extreme sexual repression.
Extreme.
Why else would her dream lover manifest itself as Severus Snape, oily git and bane of her teenaged existence? It was insanity, there was no other explanation for it. Yet as she trudged out of bed to run herself a cold shower, she wasn't able to push the images she's dreamt out of her mind.
***
Fawkes coughed pathetically as the last feather fell from his tail usually majestic tail, the final insult of a burning day. Contrary to the Phoenix's downcast appearance, the room was brightly lit and comfortable. The Headmaster sat at his cluttered desk regarding the younger professor with ill-concealed enjoyment.
"So the casement opened for Ms. Granger, that is a surprise." Dumbledore took in this information with interest. "In fact I tried once again to open the fickle object this morning, to no avail. It appears to be very selective with its prophecy."
Across the desk Snape was frowning darkly, not half as amused as the headmaster with the events of the previous evening. "Did you happen to see the manner of the prophecy, Severus?"
Snape snorted.
"Unfortunately, the casement snapped closed before I was able to discern the things intent. The girl was even less forthcoming."
The headmaster's eyes lit up to twinkle merrily. "Perhaps she will talk about it, now that she's had time to digest the information. Am I correct in assuming that you'll be meeting her this afternoon?"
Snape nodded, a pained look coming to his face. "I sent her a message this morning which was promptly returned, stating that she would indeed meet me at midday "
"Perhaps you should take her to the gardens," Dumbledore said, picking a lemon drop from the crystal dish on his desk. The dish was a permanent accessory on the desk, self-refilling no doubt. Perfect for the grinning old man who clearly knew something he was withholding.
Forcing a stiff smile he regarded the headmasters smiling eyes. "Hardly, I spent my required time in Sprouts domain last night."
"She means well in her nutrition advice, Severus," he chided. "You could show Miss Granger the fruit trees, I dare say she's never seen much more than the greenhouses. A shame, really."
/Show her the fruit trees and see the image of her writhing euphorically on the grass superimposed/
"She can ask Sprout for a tour any day she wants, there are more pressing matters at hand." Meeting the elder mans eyes, Snape spoke in a low tone. "Arabella was a powerful Magus, Albus. To allow Miss Granger to remain ignorant of the commodity she possesses veritably signs her life away."
"She is not one to give up without a fight. No, I think Miss Granger will be an apt pupil as is her way."
A dark scowl crept across Snape's face. "That, is exactly what I dread."
Behind them the Headmasters familiar let out the last of its breath and burst unceremoniously into flames.
***
Outside, the summer sun filled the air with lazy warmth. Turning her face toward the sun she resembled a spring flower aching for light. The lawn that stretched from the huge front door of the castle was empty of people and the only noise to be heard was the rush of the gentle breeze through the trees.
Framed in the open door, Severus Snape sized up the girl sitting on the lawn in anticipation of the conversation to come. She looked remarkably recovered since the last time he had spoken to her, not angry or blushing or assaulting his person. Hermione didn't seem to notice him at all, she sat with her legs folded under her and her back to him. In stark contrast to his severe black summer robes she wore a Muggle summer-dress of crimson and gold flowers. How very subconsciously Gryffindor.
Severus approached her leisurely, his steps on the grass were silent and he reached her side without attracting her attention. She was lost in thought, he realized as he saw her calm expression. Her eyes were closed against the light and a small smile was curving her lips. Clearing his throat with forced ire at finding her so completely wrapped up in her own mind; he was rewarded with a widening of her eyes and a blush as she pulled herself to her feet.
"How did you sneak up on me like that, I didn't sense your presence at all." Her voice was more confident than he remembered. "I didn't last night, either."
Motioning for her to join him in walking, Severus led her out onto the grounds. "My need for stealth should be apparent, Ms. Granger, though my means are not out of the ordinary." Then with the razor edge, 'You could remain undetected in a similar way if you focused your mind more."
Hermione fell into step easily with her long legged stride. She was barefoot, he noticed as the breeze stirred the long skirt of her dress. Turning his gaze skyward, he narrowed his eyes against the brightness of the sun and listened as she spoke.
"The more I turn what I've gathered around in my head, the more I feel as though I'm missing a strategic foundation piece of the puzzle." The breeze pushed her waist length hair around with invisible fingers, she paused long enough to tie it back before she continued, her mind clearly running faster than her mouth. "These words instantly bond with the person who they are given to, but what's the limit? What stops everyone from going around and forcing them out to make other more powerful? Or creating an army of magically enhanced soldiers?"
"You have the uncanny ability to pick through scarce information and make coherent worries, Miss Granger," he mused in an unnerving tone. Hermione blushed slightly under the scrutiny of his dark eyes, curious. The blush rarely left her cheeks. "You've hit on a major issue of worry in your thinking, however speaking of that would be getting ahead of myself. The foundation of your knowledge in this matter, as you put it, is missing a substantial amount."
For once he had the distinct impression that he had a one up on her, giving him no small amount of satisfaction.
"The first thing you should know is that there is a limit of four words that a person can know."
Hermione nodded absently and asked, "What if a person learns more?"
"That is a situation that has not arisen for centuries, Miss Granger. To know four words is to know ultimate power, whereas five would be to burn. The human body can not withstand the amount of power held in more than four words."
Pausing, his voice took on the tone of a lecturer. "The magic would destroy the body from the inside out, starting with the mental capacity. Depending on the word this process of combustion could occur in an instant or slowly over a period of days. Yet, the end result is always the same."
"What about non-humans?" she ventured after a moment of thought.
Severus nodded, his expression never changing from his ever-present frown. "It's the same for all with the capability for magic. Elves, trolls, and goblins… the end result is the same. Their bodies are all destroyed by the magic given time."
"It would take something more than the body, then."
"That is beyond the grasp of even the most accomplished wizard. The words themselves vary in power and those who seek them learn to discern the weak from the strong. This can only be found out by careful tracing of word origins, many ancients made it their life work."
Coming to the lake they stopped and admired the calm water in silence. Savoring the slight breeze that came off the water on his face, Snape watched as Hermione bit her lip idly. A weak habit, akin to biting ones nails. He could practically hear her thinking and formulating a new onslaught of questions. It was irritatingly reminiscent of her days seated three rows back in the dungeon. He wondered if she knew how threatening it could be to know that someone could click together clues so easily when others spent their entire lives in making the same connections.
"Ms. Granger, you're going to give yourself a headache if you keep up on that path," he said sharply and without humor, getting her attention immediately. "The origins of the words are unknown and the squid is not going to toss you the answers, no matter how hard you look at the water. The facts might yield some answers if looked at correctly, but it's a puzzle that hundreds have attempted. All have failed.
Seeing her eyes harden he knew she'd taken his words for what they were, a challenge to her intellect. Raising her nose slightly she graced him with a frosty look worthy of Minerva McGonagall. "You've yet to tell me all the facts."
Lowering his voice he spoke in a cold tone. "Your attention span is hardly conductive to any information, though if you could make an effort to listen I will tell you what you need to know. Unless you think listening isn't necessary?"
Rewarded with another glare, Snape continued as though he was speaking to a wayward first year. "Single words are only comprised of a certain amount of power, thus the effect they have when received is to accentuate a talent or latent ability. Though there are no books on this subject matter there is documentation of Muggles who come into the possession of a word and then find themselves to have a talent for singing, or to charm people into trusting them."
"Though hardly dangerous many words have died out when ignorance led their owners to be burned or hung despite the fact that they possessed nothing but a talent." Sneering he said, "No Muggle has possessed more than a single word in three centuries. Ability is heightened past simple talent with a second word, they in essence become a genius for anything they put their mind to."
Overhead clouds covered the sun, casting dark shadows across the grass and sending a chill through Hermione. Idly rubbing her arm, she tried not to slouch and give Snape the satisfaction of tearing her down again. The good mood the sun had cast on her cold-shower-chilled skin was fading fast. In its place was a smoldering dislike for the disagreeable potions master, undermined by the constant distraction of her dream.
The casements dream.
If they walked any further they'd be veering toward the gardens, something that she wasn't willing to deal with at this point. The gardens, his proximity, his voice… She was acutely aware of how sexy his voice would be when he wasn't sneering at her, which shouldn't truly be a distraction since Snape had two modes. Sneer and… well sneer… No, super-bastard-sneer.
Her attention was drifting and from the glare he sent her it was obvious that he was as unhappy with the situation. /Good/, she thought with some satisfaction as he motioned her back toward the school with a mocking motion.
"Seeing as though you're attentions have waned we'll save this for another day," he pronounced with an arctic chill. "Unless you have no further need of tutoring on this topic?"
"There are no books on the subject, how else would I gather what I need to know?" She asked, genuine confusion marring her features. Biting back a bark of laughter, Snape gave the girl a hard look until she had the decency to blush. Blush harder, that is.
"Oh," she said, sheepish as his meaning dawned on her.
/Stupid arse, I should know better than to expect anything but sarcasm. Damn distracting psyche./
"If you're quite finished, I have other matters that need my attention." With a curt nod Snape turned to leave her at the entrance, but was stopped as she reached out and brushed her hand against the fabric of his sleeve.
Turning, he looked at her questioningly and a bit annoyed. Seeing that she had his attention, Hermione smiled softly, pushing her distractions aside. "Thank you… for your time Professor.'
Something akin to confusion flashed through his eyes as he searched her face, though it was instantly replaced with the stoic mask that seemed to be an essential part of the man. Then with another nod, he said, "You're welcome" before disappearing into the castle.
Hermione smiled slightly to herself as she wandered back toward the lake. The heat in her cheeks had receded for the first time since she'd woken up, and found herself dreaming about her former teacher. Her mind had other things to dissect now that she had the base knowledge that she needed to assimilate what was happening to her.
Words. Talents. Casements. Prophecies. Moonflowers. Sex dreams about a raving bastard…
Pushing that last thought as far to the back of her mind as she could, something that Ron had said to her a long time ago floated to the surface.
"Life is like a bludger," he said with more than a little reverence, while Harry was healing up in the hospital wing from an adventure gone wrong. "When you're just minding your business it's likely to fly by and smack you in the head."
Quidditch wisdom that actually applied to life. She'd apparently gotten too much sun.
***
Authors Note: Sorry, that took ages! Been distracted by working full time this summer, and between working and sleeping there just has not been any energy for much else. So after the wait you really don't get much action, just more build up. Please don't beat me!
Again, this was only edited by myself (Thanks to Leelee for giving me the go, anyway). So if anything is grossly wrong, throw rocks. Next part we get some movement, promise!
Thanks for reading!
-Dee
3- Distraction
***
"And hope in those squeaky clean eyes
You'll get chilly receptions everywhere you go
Blinded with desire - guess the season is on" -"Teenage Wildlife" David Bowie
***
She was running again, her heart beating painfully in her chest. Behind her someone was in pursuit, their footsteps clumsier than hers. Her footsteps made no sounds against the forest floor, nor did they on the grass as she burst onto Hogwarts grounds.
Bare feet touched the dew touched grass sending a chill through her and a smile to her lips. There was no fear as she glanced over her shoulder at the man behind her, it only caused her smile to widen. There was challenge in his gaze, he exuded arrogance that his longer strides would overcome her in the end. Hermione struggled to hold in her laughter. Surely he knew she wasn't trying to escape him?
Rounding the edge of the lake she changed their course toward the distant greenhouses and the sleeping gardens. A slight breeze stirred, fanning the runners with balmy air and ruffling the already short fabric of Hermione's skirt. She was closing in on her destination, well ahead of him when the moon caught her eye.
Beautiful.
The luminous disc was just short of full, but it dominated the sky and put the millions of tiny stars to shame. So familiar the moon looked, she realized as she came to the iron gate of the closed garden. Pushing the thought from her mind as she pushed the barred gate open and walked through. The moon could never live up to the pure earthy beauty of what was laid out before her.
The high stone walls were completely covered with vines, most full of tightly closed roses in the darkest of colors. The perfect lawn wasn't marred with a walkway, but a natural one was created by artfully placed fruit-trees, each perfectly kept and heavy with their seasonal burden. Awe stopped her in her tracks and with that she lost her advantage. Instantly sure hands were on her waist and warm breath was on her neck.
"20 Points from Gryffindor, Ms. Granger," the silky voice purred close to her ear. "I do believe that you wanted to be caught."
Turning so that she faced him, Hermione looked up into his dark eyes. "Was there ever any question, Proffessor?"
The growl that escaped his throat made her breath catch in her throat. Before she could speak again his mouth roughly claimed hers, while his cool hands found their way to her bare back. Her toes dug into the grass as one hand gripped her hips and lowered her down onto the grass. With a subtle push of her powers they both found themselves unclothed and exposed to the other.
Breaking the kiss, Snape inclined an eyebrow at the girl beneath him. "You're a very presumptous girl, using your magic in such a way."
Smiling cattily, Hermione slowley shifted her hips beneath him. "I wouldn't call it presumptous... more like impatient?"
"Indeed," he drawled in response, stopping her hip movement with one long fingered hand. Biting her lip Hermione kept his gaze as his fingers caressed her hip before fanning then across her pelvic bone. Tensing her toes, she tried not to make a sound as he pressed one finger into the wetness between her thighs. "Patience is a virtue, didn't your mother ever teach that?"
"No," she murmmered as he claimed her mouth with another searing kiss, pressing her into the damp grass. Grasping his shoulders as he skillfuly teased her with his tongue and fingers, she let out a broken moan into his mouth. Somewhere in the back of her brain something was screaming at her to stop, that what she was doing was wrong and that she needed to think. It was impossible to think with the way he was touching her, but she couldn't shake the feeling of dread.
With resolve she opened her eyes, ready to voice her worry… and caught sight of the high ceiling above her. The moon had vanished along with the garden, the grass and.... Snape. With a sight she jerked the heavy blankets up over her head and yelled, "You're losing your mind, Granger."
It had all been a dream, a very realistic dream. Her body was humming with the desire the images had caused, she was painfully aware of the way her nightshirt rubbed across her chest with each breath. Reaching a hand down into her panties she found that she was very wet, and sensitive to the touch. It was all her over-active imaginations fault. Her imagination, that blasted casement, and if Snape was her dream lover it had to be chalked up to extreme sexual repression.
Extreme.
Why else would her dream lover manifest itself as Severus Snape, oily git and bane of her teenaged existence? It was insanity, there was no other explanation for it. Yet as she trudged out of bed to run herself a cold shower, she wasn't able to push the images she's dreamt out of her mind.
***
Fawkes coughed pathetically as the last feather fell from his tail usually majestic tail, the final insult of a burning day. Contrary to the Phoenix's downcast appearance, the room was brightly lit and comfortable. The Headmaster sat at his cluttered desk regarding the younger professor with ill-concealed enjoyment.
"So the casement opened for Ms. Granger, that is a surprise." Dumbledore took in this information with interest. "In fact I tried once again to open the fickle object this morning, to no avail. It appears to be very selective with its prophecy."
Across the desk Snape was frowning darkly, not half as amused as the headmaster with the events of the previous evening. "Did you happen to see the manner of the prophecy, Severus?"
Snape snorted.
"Unfortunately, the casement snapped closed before I was able to discern the things intent. The girl was even less forthcoming."
The headmaster's eyes lit up to twinkle merrily. "Perhaps she will talk about it, now that she's had time to digest the information. Am I correct in assuming that you'll be meeting her this afternoon?"
Snape nodded, a pained look coming to his face. "I sent her a message this morning which was promptly returned, stating that she would indeed meet me at midday "
"Perhaps you should take her to the gardens," Dumbledore said, picking a lemon drop from the crystal dish on his desk. The dish was a permanent accessory on the desk, self-refilling no doubt. Perfect for the grinning old man who clearly knew something he was withholding.
Forcing a stiff smile he regarded the headmasters smiling eyes. "Hardly, I spent my required time in Sprouts domain last night."
"She means well in her nutrition advice, Severus," he chided. "You could show Miss Granger the fruit trees, I dare say she's never seen much more than the greenhouses. A shame, really."
/Show her the fruit trees and see the image of her writhing euphorically on the grass superimposed/
"She can ask Sprout for a tour any day she wants, there are more pressing matters at hand." Meeting the elder mans eyes, Snape spoke in a low tone. "Arabella was a powerful Magus, Albus. To allow Miss Granger to remain ignorant of the commodity she possesses veritably signs her life away."
"She is not one to give up without a fight. No, I think Miss Granger will be an apt pupil as is her way."
A dark scowl crept across Snape's face. "That, is exactly what I dread."
Behind them the Headmasters familiar let out the last of its breath and burst unceremoniously into flames.
***
Outside, the summer sun filled the air with lazy warmth. Turning her face toward the sun she resembled a spring flower aching for light. The lawn that stretched from the huge front door of the castle was empty of people and the only noise to be heard was the rush of the gentle breeze through the trees.
Framed in the open door, Severus Snape sized up the girl sitting on the lawn in anticipation of the conversation to come. She looked remarkably recovered since the last time he had spoken to her, not angry or blushing or assaulting his person. Hermione didn't seem to notice him at all, she sat with her legs folded under her and her back to him. In stark contrast to his severe black summer robes she wore a Muggle summer-dress of crimson and gold flowers. How very subconsciously Gryffindor.
Severus approached her leisurely, his steps on the grass were silent and he reached her side without attracting her attention. She was lost in thought, he realized as he saw her calm expression. Her eyes were closed against the light and a small smile was curving her lips. Clearing his throat with forced ire at finding her so completely wrapped up in her own mind; he was rewarded with a widening of her eyes and a blush as she pulled herself to her feet.
"How did you sneak up on me like that, I didn't sense your presence at all." Her voice was more confident than he remembered. "I didn't last night, either."
Motioning for her to join him in walking, Severus led her out onto the grounds. "My need for stealth should be apparent, Ms. Granger, though my means are not out of the ordinary." Then with the razor edge, 'You could remain undetected in a similar way if you focused your mind more."
Hermione fell into step easily with her long legged stride. She was barefoot, he noticed as the breeze stirred the long skirt of her dress. Turning his gaze skyward, he narrowed his eyes against the brightness of the sun and listened as she spoke.
"The more I turn what I've gathered around in my head, the more I feel as though I'm missing a strategic foundation piece of the puzzle." The breeze pushed her waist length hair around with invisible fingers, she paused long enough to tie it back before she continued, her mind clearly running faster than her mouth. "These words instantly bond with the person who they are given to, but what's the limit? What stops everyone from going around and forcing them out to make other more powerful? Or creating an army of magically enhanced soldiers?"
"You have the uncanny ability to pick through scarce information and make coherent worries, Miss Granger," he mused in an unnerving tone. Hermione blushed slightly under the scrutiny of his dark eyes, curious. The blush rarely left her cheeks. "You've hit on a major issue of worry in your thinking, however speaking of that would be getting ahead of myself. The foundation of your knowledge in this matter, as you put it, is missing a substantial amount."
For once he had the distinct impression that he had a one up on her, giving him no small amount of satisfaction.
"The first thing you should know is that there is a limit of four words that a person can know."
Hermione nodded absently and asked, "What if a person learns more?"
"That is a situation that has not arisen for centuries, Miss Granger. To know four words is to know ultimate power, whereas five would be to burn. The human body can not withstand the amount of power held in more than four words."
Pausing, his voice took on the tone of a lecturer. "The magic would destroy the body from the inside out, starting with the mental capacity. Depending on the word this process of combustion could occur in an instant or slowly over a period of days. Yet, the end result is always the same."
"What about non-humans?" she ventured after a moment of thought.
Severus nodded, his expression never changing from his ever-present frown. "It's the same for all with the capability for magic. Elves, trolls, and goblins… the end result is the same. Their bodies are all destroyed by the magic given time."
"It would take something more than the body, then."
"That is beyond the grasp of even the most accomplished wizard. The words themselves vary in power and those who seek them learn to discern the weak from the strong. This can only be found out by careful tracing of word origins, many ancients made it their life work."
Coming to the lake they stopped and admired the calm water in silence. Savoring the slight breeze that came off the water on his face, Snape watched as Hermione bit her lip idly. A weak habit, akin to biting ones nails. He could practically hear her thinking and formulating a new onslaught of questions. It was irritatingly reminiscent of her days seated three rows back in the dungeon. He wondered if she knew how threatening it could be to know that someone could click together clues so easily when others spent their entire lives in making the same connections.
"Ms. Granger, you're going to give yourself a headache if you keep up on that path," he said sharply and without humor, getting her attention immediately. "The origins of the words are unknown and the squid is not going to toss you the answers, no matter how hard you look at the water. The facts might yield some answers if looked at correctly, but it's a puzzle that hundreds have attempted. All have failed.
Seeing her eyes harden he knew she'd taken his words for what they were, a challenge to her intellect. Raising her nose slightly she graced him with a frosty look worthy of Minerva McGonagall. "You've yet to tell me all the facts."
Lowering his voice he spoke in a cold tone. "Your attention span is hardly conductive to any information, though if you could make an effort to listen I will tell you what you need to know. Unless you think listening isn't necessary?"
Rewarded with another glare, Snape continued as though he was speaking to a wayward first year. "Single words are only comprised of a certain amount of power, thus the effect they have when received is to accentuate a talent or latent ability. Though there are no books on this subject matter there is documentation of Muggles who come into the possession of a word and then find themselves to have a talent for singing, or to charm people into trusting them."
"Though hardly dangerous many words have died out when ignorance led their owners to be burned or hung despite the fact that they possessed nothing but a talent." Sneering he said, "No Muggle has possessed more than a single word in three centuries. Ability is heightened past simple talent with a second word, they in essence become a genius for anything they put their mind to."
Overhead clouds covered the sun, casting dark shadows across the grass and sending a chill through Hermione. Idly rubbing her arm, she tried not to slouch and give Snape the satisfaction of tearing her down again. The good mood the sun had cast on her cold-shower-chilled skin was fading fast. In its place was a smoldering dislike for the disagreeable potions master, undermined by the constant distraction of her dream.
The casements dream.
If they walked any further they'd be veering toward the gardens, something that she wasn't willing to deal with at this point. The gardens, his proximity, his voice… She was acutely aware of how sexy his voice would be when he wasn't sneering at her, which shouldn't truly be a distraction since Snape had two modes. Sneer and… well sneer… No, super-bastard-sneer.
Her attention was drifting and from the glare he sent her it was obvious that he was as unhappy with the situation. /Good/, she thought with some satisfaction as he motioned her back toward the school with a mocking motion.
"Seeing as though you're attentions have waned we'll save this for another day," he pronounced with an arctic chill. "Unless you have no further need of tutoring on this topic?"
"There are no books on the subject, how else would I gather what I need to know?" She asked, genuine confusion marring her features. Biting back a bark of laughter, Snape gave the girl a hard look until she had the decency to blush. Blush harder, that is.
"Oh," she said, sheepish as his meaning dawned on her.
/Stupid arse, I should know better than to expect anything but sarcasm. Damn distracting psyche./
"If you're quite finished, I have other matters that need my attention." With a curt nod Snape turned to leave her at the entrance, but was stopped as she reached out and brushed her hand against the fabric of his sleeve.
Turning, he looked at her questioningly and a bit annoyed. Seeing that she had his attention, Hermione smiled softly, pushing her distractions aside. "Thank you… for your time Professor.'
Something akin to confusion flashed through his eyes as he searched her face, though it was instantly replaced with the stoic mask that seemed to be an essential part of the man. Then with another nod, he said, "You're welcome" before disappearing into the castle.
Hermione smiled slightly to herself as she wandered back toward the lake. The heat in her cheeks had receded for the first time since she'd woken up, and found herself dreaming about her former teacher. Her mind had other things to dissect now that she had the base knowledge that she needed to assimilate what was happening to her.
Words. Talents. Casements. Prophecies. Moonflowers. Sex dreams about a raving bastard…
Pushing that last thought as far to the back of her mind as she could, something that Ron had said to her a long time ago floated to the surface.
"Life is like a bludger," he said with more than a little reverence, while Harry was healing up in the hospital wing from an adventure gone wrong. "When you're just minding your business it's likely to fly by and smack you in the head."
Quidditch wisdom that actually applied to life. She'd apparently gotten too much sun.
***
Authors Note: Sorry, that took ages! Been distracted by working full time this summer, and between working and sleeping there just has not been any energy for much else. So after the wait you really don't get much action, just more build up. Please don't beat me!
Again, this was only edited by myself (Thanks to Leelee for giving me the go, anyway). So if anything is grossly wrong, throw rocks. Next part we get some movement, promise!
Thanks for reading!
-Dee
