Chapter two
Severus escorted her to a table and poured her a drink. Firewhiskey, no less.
She raised the glass to him in mute query.
"You are not a student here anymore, Miss Granger."
"Then, Severus, perhaps you could call me Hermione," she said, feeling greatly daring.
"Hermione, then. You were about to tell me why you did nothing to attract my attention during the course of last week. I must say I was surprised that Lavender and Parvati didn't persuade you to turn up to classes in tight clothing and your robe unbuttoned."
"I do wonder where you get your information from, because of course, that is exactly what they tried to persuade me to do. You were quite right, of course, that telling Ron amounted to telling the whole of Hogwarts. The girls took it as some sort of challenge and decided to help me out."
She sipped at her Firewhiskey and grimaced. It really didn't taste very nice at all.
"Lavender and Parvati turned up first. You should have seen it. They have boxes and boxes of make up, potions, lotions, books on glamours and charms to attract the most resistant wizard. You could barely move in my room for all the clutter they brought with them.
"They spent ages trying to straighten my hair. I told them it was a lost cause, but they were determined to succeed."
Professor Snape inspected her hair with the eye of a professional. "Sanglise's Patented Hair Straightener I presume?"
She nodded. "I will give them credit for that, they did manage to find something that worked. But the rest of it?" She shuddered. "I ended up squashed into a bra that pushed my breasts up so high they could keep my ears warm, a shirt two sizes to small for me which was practically unbuttoned down to the waist, and a skirt so short you couldn't dignify it with the name - it was a belt."
She took another sip of Firewhiskey. The second taste wasn't so bad. Maybe it was growing on her.
It had been a disaster. She had ended up looking like a refugee from Knockturn Alley, and not a particularly attractive one at that. She had turned to the girls and said, "Remind me again, why this is going to work?"
They had thought she was just being shy and had tried to reassure her that she looked good. "Bless you for lying," she said, "But that's not the point anyway. I wouldn't want to get a man on these terms."
They had difficulty in understanding her point at first, until she translated it into terms they could relate to. "Lavender, when you go out to buy a pair of shoes, do you buy the first pair that you see?"
"No," she said, puzzled. "I look at all the shoes in the shop, and then try some and choose which look best."
"Actually," said Parvati dryly, "She tries on all the shoes in the shop, goes to another four shops, and then comes back to the first shop to buy the pair she first tried one." They both giggled.
"Well, that's my point. Don't you think you should spend as much if not more of your time choosing a man than you do on choosing a pair of shoes to match your robes?"
They had both nodded. "So what do you want in a man?" Hermione asked.
"I like blonds," said Lavender.
"Like Malfoy?"
They had wrinkled their noses up at that. "Ew, no, he's an arrogant little tosser. You can't like him, Lavender?" said Parvati
"God, no! Can you imagine having to put up with his obnoxious attitude all the time? It doesn't matter how pretty he is, he's not worth the aggravation," she replied.
"So you're saying personality is important, as well as looks?"
They looked puzzled for a moment, and then more thoughtful. "I suppose so," said Lavender slowly, "I hadn't thought of it like that before. You know how you say someone has a nice personality when what you mean is that they have face like a smacked arse, it tends to skew your thinking on whether you want a nice personality or not."
"And, if you ask me," continued Hermione, "you don't want to be going out with the sort of boy who has just picked up the first available pair of shoes, do you? You want someone who has really thought about what they want and has had the good taste to pick out the best pair of shoes available."
They nodded.
"So, on that basis, do I really want to turn up to Potions looking like a cheap pair of shoes?"
They had reluctantly conceded the point, but looked very disappointed at the thought of not working their magic and transforming Hermione from bookworm to siren in an afternoon.
"On the other hand, I really think I need to look my best for the graduation ball, don't I girls?"
They had brightened at that. The girls had spent the rest of the day trying out different outfits. Hermione usually despised fashion and make-up, but by the end of the afternoon she had felt a reluctant admiration for the sheer attention to detail and effort that the girls had put in. Despite herself she had enjoyed their time together, and regretted a little that she hadn't made more of an effort to get to know the two of them.
The results had been, if not the stunning transformation they had hoped for, a subtle shift into womanhood. Hermione had been very pleased with the results and, in the end, so had Lavender and Parvati. She hoped that Professor Snape had been pleased too; she certainly seemed to have held his attention for the last hour or so, and that was better than she had hoped for.
"So, continue," he said.
"There I was, with a broad expanse of flesh on view, and all I could think about was how cold the potion's classroom was, and how attractive goosebumps are. So I told them that I wasn't going to double potions dressed like a prostitute. I also pointed out that, whilst these tactics worked on 18 year old boys, did they really believe they would work on you?"
"And their answer was?"
"Probably not."
"I'm relieved to hear it."
"Not to mention that one of your little Slytherins was bound to have tried it on at least once, if only in the hope of getting better marks in class. I wouldn't want to be unoriginal, you know."
He smiled faintly. Some of his Slytherins had indeed tried that, sometimes for less innocent reasons than improving their marks, and over the years he had developed a whole range of very nasty tactics designed to put them off sex in general and him in particular for a very long time. He had been looking forward to trying them on a Gryffindor.
"What would you have done, if I had tried that?"
"I think I would have admired the view for an entire lesson, thus giving you cause to hope that you were being successful, and then reported you to Porfessor McGonagall for being inappropriately dressed. I am sure her disappointment would have been very hard to bear." He paused.
"Dare I hope that you have been a good influence on Miss Brown and Miss Patil. There dress seems to be a little more restrained than usual?"
"Perhaps."
"And this is of course wholly unrelated to the fact that two of your competitors had selected them as their targets?"
It was actually, but Hermione decided to take the credit anyway. Professor Snape would only admire her cunning.
She smiled mysteriously - she hoped - and murmured, "You may think that, I couldn't possibly comment."
He smiled back. "I believe you had a string of advisors last week. What other help were you offered?" he laid a faint stress on the word help that led her to believe that he held the same views as her on the quality of the advice offered.
"That would probably be Pansy."
"What had Miss Parkinson to say for herself?"
Hermione had not been surprised when Pansy had offered her help in Project Snare Snape as she had called it; she had been shocked. For a Slytherin to be actually talking to a Gryffindor without using the phrase mudblood was surprising in its own right, but to find that the girl actually wanted to help, well, Hermione could be forgiven for wondering what was the catch.
Apparently there wasn't one. Pansy was filled with a desire to help her fellow man. Hermione took that to mean that Slytherin had taken an interest and Draco was probably running a book.
Still, she was prepared to listen to advice no matter from what source it came. Part of being a scholar was being able to assess the weight that should be given to a particular text; she felt sure the same skills would allow her to spot any but the most subtle deception.
That was before she heard the advice that Pansy had to offer.
"Ah," said Severus. "I can guess at her recommendations."
"Can you, indeed?"
"The same technique she has used on Draco to such good effect over the years;Flattery laid on with a trowel. Why didn't you try that technique? I might have enjoyed that."
"Yes, perhaps a little too much?" she replied dryly. "You would see through it, of course. Although I could be merely saying that to flatter you," she paused to allow him to appreciate the delicate irony and the even more delicate compliment. "There is a more serious point of course. I didn't think you would appreciate a doormat; and I wouldn't appreciate being one."
"And you explained all this to Pansy?"
"Yes, I explained it all to Pansy. And loaned her several of my more radical feminist books."
"And does this explain Draco's face being slapped earlier in the evening?"
"I believe it does. Which makes the whole evening worthwhile in itself, don't you think?"
Professor Snape said nothing in reply, but he didn't have to. His smile said it all.
"You have caused a stir this week. No one else seems to have been slapped, so can I assume that was the last of your advisers?"
"Malfoy did offer to sell me a couple of bottles of lust potion to slip into your drink this evening."
"Good god. How insulting."
"I thought so, as if you would be so stupid as to not notice."
"I meant, how insulting that the little ferret thought you couldn't produce a lust potion of your own. Your grades exceeded his by a considerable margine."
Hermione was taken aback. After all this time, Severus Snape had just complimented her work. She didn't think she would have been more shocked if he had wandered up to her and said, "How about it, you and me?"
"Blimey," she said. "You just said something nice to me."
Severus escorted her to a table and poured her a drink. Firewhiskey, no less.
She raised the glass to him in mute query.
"You are not a student here anymore, Miss Granger."
"Then, Severus, perhaps you could call me Hermione," she said, feeling greatly daring.
"Hermione, then. You were about to tell me why you did nothing to attract my attention during the course of last week. I must say I was surprised that Lavender and Parvati didn't persuade you to turn up to classes in tight clothing and your robe unbuttoned."
"I do wonder where you get your information from, because of course, that is exactly what they tried to persuade me to do. You were quite right, of course, that telling Ron amounted to telling the whole of Hogwarts. The girls took it as some sort of challenge and decided to help me out."
She sipped at her Firewhiskey and grimaced. It really didn't taste very nice at all.
"Lavender and Parvati turned up first. You should have seen it. They have boxes and boxes of make up, potions, lotions, books on glamours and charms to attract the most resistant wizard. You could barely move in my room for all the clutter they brought with them.
"They spent ages trying to straighten my hair. I told them it was a lost cause, but they were determined to succeed."
Professor Snape inspected her hair with the eye of a professional. "Sanglise's Patented Hair Straightener I presume?"
She nodded. "I will give them credit for that, they did manage to find something that worked. But the rest of it?" She shuddered. "I ended up squashed into a bra that pushed my breasts up so high they could keep my ears warm, a shirt two sizes to small for me which was practically unbuttoned down to the waist, and a skirt so short you couldn't dignify it with the name - it was a belt."
She took another sip of Firewhiskey. The second taste wasn't so bad. Maybe it was growing on her.
It had been a disaster. She had ended up looking like a refugee from Knockturn Alley, and not a particularly attractive one at that. She had turned to the girls and said, "Remind me again, why this is going to work?"
They had thought she was just being shy and had tried to reassure her that she looked good. "Bless you for lying," she said, "But that's not the point anyway. I wouldn't want to get a man on these terms."
They had difficulty in understanding her point at first, until she translated it into terms they could relate to. "Lavender, when you go out to buy a pair of shoes, do you buy the first pair that you see?"
"No," she said, puzzled. "I look at all the shoes in the shop, and then try some and choose which look best."
"Actually," said Parvati dryly, "She tries on all the shoes in the shop, goes to another four shops, and then comes back to the first shop to buy the pair she first tried one." They both giggled.
"Well, that's my point. Don't you think you should spend as much if not more of your time choosing a man than you do on choosing a pair of shoes to match your robes?"
They had both nodded. "So what do you want in a man?" Hermione asked.
"I like blonds," said Lavender.
"Like Malfoy?"
They had wrinkled their noses up at that. "Ew, no, he's an arrogant little tosser. You can't like him, Lavender?" said Parvati
"God, no! Can you imagine having to put up with his obnoxious attitude all the time? It doesn't matter how pretty he is, he's not worth the aggravation," she replied.
"So you're saying personality is important, as well as looks?"
They looked puzzled for a moment, and then more thoughtful. "I suppose so," said Lavender slowly, "I hadn't thought of it like that before. You know how you say someone has a nice personality when what you mean is that they have face like a smacked arse, it tends to skew your thinking on whether you want a nice personality or not."
"And, if you ask me," continued Hermione, "you don't want to be going out with the sort of boy who has just picked up the first available pair of shoes, do you? You want someone who has really thought about what they want and has had the good taste to pick out the best pair of shoes available."
They nodded.
"So, on that basis, do I really want to turn up to Potions looking like a cheap pair of shoes?"
They had reluctantly conceded the point, but looked very disappointed at the thought of not working their magic and transforming Hermione from bookworm to siren in an afternoon.
"On the other hand, I really think I need to look my best for the graduation ball, don't I girls?"
They had brightened at that. The girls had spent the rest of the day trying out different outfits. Hermione usually despised fashion and make-up, but by the end of the afternoon she had felt a reluctant admiration for the sheer attention to detail and effort that the girls had put in. Despite herself she had enjoyed their time together, and regretted a little that she hadn't made more of an effort to get to know the two of them.
The results had been, if not the stunning transformation they had hoped for, a subtle shift into womanhood. Hermione had been very pleased with the results and, in the end, so had Lavender and Parvati. She hoped that Professor Snape had been pleased too; she certainly seemed to have held his attention for the last hour or so, and that was better than she had hoped for.
"So, continue," he said.
"There I was, with a broad expanse of flesh on view, and all I could think about was how cold the potion's classroom was, and how attractive goosebumps are. So I told them that I wasn't going to double potions dressed like a prostitute. I also pointed out that, whilst these tactics worked on 18 year old boys, did they really believe they would work on you?"
"And their answer was?"
"Probably not."
"I'm relieved to hear it."
"Not to mention that one of your little Slytherins was bound to have tried it on at least once, if only in the hope of getting better marks in class. I wouldn't want to be unoriginal, you know."
He smiled faintly. Some of his Slytherins had indeed tried that, sometimes for less innocent reasons than improving their marks, and over the years he had developed a whole range of very nasty tactics designed to put them off sex in general and him in particular for a very long time. He had been looking forward to trying them on a Gryffindor.
"What would you have done, if I had tried that?"
"I think I would have admired the view for an entire lesson, thus giving you cause to hope that you were being successful, and then reported you to Porfessor McGonagall for being inappropriately dressed. I am sure her disappointment would have been very hard to bear." He paused.
"Dare I hope that you have been a good influence on Miss Brown and Miss Patil. There dress seems to be a little more restrained than usual?"
"Perhaps."
"And this is of course wholly unrelated to the fact that two of your competitors had selected them as their targets?"
It was actually, but Hermione decided to take the credit anyway. Professor Snape would only admire her cunning.
She smiled mysteriously - she hoped - and murmured, "You may think that, I couldn't possibly comment."
He smiled back. "I believe you had a string of advisors last week. What other help were you offered?" he laid a faint stress on the word help that led her to believe that he held the same views as her on the quality of the advice offered.
"That would probably be Pansy."
"What had Miss Parkinson to say for herself?"
Hermione had not been surprised when Pansy had offered her help in Project Snare Snape as she had called it; she had been shocked. For a Slytherin to be actually talking to a Gryffindor without using the phrase mudblood was surprising in its own right, but to find that the girl actually wanted to help, well, Hermione could be forgiven for wondering what was the catch.
Apparently there wasn't one. Pansy was filled with a desire to help her fellow man. Hermione took that to mean that Slytherin had taken an interest and Draco was probably running a book.
Still, she was prepared to listen to advice no matter from what source it came. Part of being a scholar was being able to assess the weight that should be given to a particular text; she felt sure the same skills would allow her to spot any but the most subtle deception.
That was before she heard the advice that Pansy had to offer.
"Ah," said Severus. "I can guess at her recommendations."
"Can you, indeed?"
"The same technique she has used on Draco to such good effect over the years;Flattery laid on with a trowel. Why didn't you try that technique? I might have enjoyed that."
"Yes, perhaps a little too much?" she replied dryly. "You would see through it, of course. Although I could be merely saying that to flatter you," she paused to allow him to appreciate the delicate irony and the even more delicate compliment. "There is a more serious point of course. I didn't think you would appreciate a doormat; and I wouldn't appreciate being one."
"And you explained all this to Pansy?"
"Yes, I explained it all to Pansy. And loaned her several of my more radical feminist books."
"And does this explain Draco's face being slapped earlier in the evening?"
"I believe it does. Which makes the whole evening worthwhile in itself, don't you think?"
Professor Snape said nothing in reply, but he didn't have to. His smile said it all.
"You have caused a stir this week. No one else seems to have been slapped, so can I assume that was the last of your advisers?"
"Malfoy did offer to sell me a couple of bottles of lust potion to slip into your drink this evening."
"Good god. How insulting."
"I thought so, as if you would be so stupid as to not notice."
"I meant, how insulting that the little ferret thought you couldn't produce a lust potion of your own. Your grades exceeded his by a considerable margine."
Hermione was taken aback. After all this time, Severus Snape had just complimented her work. She didn't think she would have been more shocked if he had wandered up to her and said, "How about it, you and me?"
"Blimey," she said. "You just said something nice to me."