Severus - she could now call him Severus to his face and not merely to
herself- looked a little shifty for a moment, but then conceded the point.
"I wonder if someone slipped something into my drink earlier."
She smiled, adding with a little acid in her voice. "Of course, that is something that you would have to get used to: compliments without the aid of potions."
He assumed an air of thoughtfulness. "I suppose I could make the sacrifice, provided that there would be some sort of quid pro quo."
Hermione stiffened. She hoped he wasn't suggesting anything obviously crude. He noticed her uneasiness, and added softly. "I just meant that you should feel free to pay me compliments in return."
She tentatively covered his hand with hers, and simply said, "Sorry." His faint look of surprise became more pronounced when she added warmly, "And of course I would pay you compliments. That goes without saying."
Awkwardly he changed the subject. "So who else volunteered to help you?"
"Harry and Ron were full of advice." She smiled fondly at the memory. "Harry offered what should be the best advice of all - just to be myself. Which, whilst it is true, is about the most useless thing anyone can ever say. I mean what bloody help is that - just be yourself? If that was all that it took, you would have been falling over yourself to ask me out already, and the bet wouldn't even be necessary. At least Lavender and Parvarti had something constructive to say, even Draco was more useful."
Severus snorted. He was obviously happy to hear something to Harry's disadvantage. "And young Mr Weasley?"
"He actually made the most sense."
She didn't think that Severus needed to know that Ron's reaction had been one of complete horror. "What the hell do you think you are playing at, chasing that Greasy Git? For god's sake, Hermione, don't do anything so thick. He'll make your life a living hell, and you'll probably be mentally scarred for life. It really isn't worth it, just to win some stupid bet."
Hermione continued, "He pointed out that the bet was a silly idea. And I thought, he's right. What did I really want? To win the bet or to actually persuade you that I was worth taking seriously? Ron thought that you would know about the silly bet one way or another. And I thought that if you did, it didn't take a genius to work out that you would be insulted if you thought that was the reason behind me asking you to dance. Not to mention the fact that you would be very likely to demonstrate just how unhappy you were with the situation in the most humiliating manner possible. And quite right too; if someone did it to me, I would be livid."
The smile on Severus's face was neither pretty nor pleasant. "Oh, yes," he said. "You would have regretted it for a very long time."
Hermione felt her insides lurch oddly. She found that feral smile to be very sexy, although she was obviously pleased that it wasn't directed at her personally at the moment.
Something of her glazed-eyed contemplation registered with Severus. A faint flush mounted his cheeks - whether embarrassment or something else, she couldn't tell - and his hand moved restlessly beneath hers.
"Miss Granger," he said. "I am not a very nice man. You would do better with someone of your own age and probably your own house."
"Not according to Pansy," she said cheerfully. "She says, and I think we can take her word for it, that Gryffindor men, boys, call them what you will, are universally dreadful in bed. I would like to have an orgasm sometime before I'm forty you know, preferably more than once. Perhaps even two in the same night?"
He snorted.
"Can you imagine," she continued blithely, "the sheer hell of trying to explain to one of them that, yes, the woman is supposed to enjoy sex as well; and no, just because they can wank for fifteen minutes doesn't mean that they are the last of the red hot lovers; and no, they aren't getting a blow job on the basis that they will last longer the second time, because quite frankly even if they managed to double ten seconds their performance is clearly still going to be inadequate."
Severus was by now openly laughing, a sight guaranteed to strike terror into the heart of any Hufflepuff and most of Gryffiindor.
"Frankly I don't have the time or patience to train one of them up. I need some time to get on with my reading you know."
"You seem to be setting very high standards," he said, "are you sure I would be able to live up to them."
"Well maybe not the first time, because they're usually dreadfully, but after that? Oh, yes," she breathed, "absolutely certain."
He smirked and patted her hand. "Have you considered that this might be some passing phase? A teenage crush? Like Professor Lockhart, for instance."
She looked daggers at him. "Well, judging from the behaviour of Lavender and Parvarti. " at his quizzical glance she conceded the point, "All right, and me - when I was 12, for heaven's sake - if I was in the grips of a crush I would believe you to be wonderfully handsome and the paragon of all virtues. I hardly think you are a knight in shining armour, and I am sure I would have noticed if you had a white horse tethered outside."
His face had darkened once the word handsome passed her lips, so she tightened her grip on his hands, and continued, "You aren't tall, dark and handsome, but I'm no raving beauty either. I think it's better to be tall, dark and interesting. You say you aren't a nice man; I agree, in many ways you're not. You have an evil temper and a tendency to bully people. If you haven't managed to bully me in seven years, when you were in a position of authority over me, how much less likely is it that you'll manage it now. Believe me, the first time you snap at me, and we both know that there will be a first time, I will snap back."
"Why on earth would you want to take up with me if I am so bad-tempered?" he sneered.
"Precisely because you are so bad tempered. I've got a temper of my own you know, just ask Malfoy, he has the scars to prove it. I want someone who isn't frightened of me, who will stand up to me and refuse to be bullied. I have nightmares where I wake up in ten years time, married to Ron, and still having to do all his thinking for him. I don't want to turn into Molly Weasley and have some shambling idiot of a husband who says nothing but yes dear. I would rather be having spirited discussions on the meaning of life, the contents of Ars Alchemica and precisely whose bloody fault it is that some domestic disaster has happened. Obviously it would be your fault, but I expect you would be stubborn and refuse to admit it."
"The Gryffindor boys frightened of you, are they?"
"Terrified, mostly, unless they want me to do their homework for them; then they manage to overcome their shyness quite nicely."
He looked puzzled. "But surely you enjoyed helping your fellow Gryffindors; you certainly seemed to spend a lot of time helping Longbottom. Didn't Minerva say something about you wanting to be a teacher?"
"Bloody typical!" Hermione wasn't pleased. "Harry got fifteen minutes worth of career advice, and Professor McGonagall practically offering to start a war to get him to be an Auror. I barely got five minutes, and she told me that if I was a very good girl and did as I was told I could be a teacher. I would rather poke my eyes out with a blunt wand than be a teacher," she stopped suddenly, realising just how much she was insulting Severus, and added wryly, "No offence."
"None taken. I feel like that myself most days."
"I'm not surprised. Teaching Neville must have been a strain."
"You ought to know, you spent most of your potions lessons teaching him, despite my express instructions."
"Self defence," she said darkly. "That, and of course, good old Hermione could be relied upon to help out anyone who needed it. I mean, you think you had problems. I had to sit next to him every bloody lesson. I never had time to be frightened of you, you know, I was too busy worrying what Neville was going to do next. Now he really was scary. The number of times I had to stop him blowing us all up! Neville is a sweet boy, but he should never been allowed to take potions at NEWT level."
"I agree. I told Dumbledore he was a danger over and over again, but all he did was twinkle at me and then ordered me to take him anyway."
"Bastard," she said.
"Not a member of the Dumbledore Appreciation Society?" he said in mock- surprise. "I thought membership was compulsory for Gryffindors?"
"You'd be surprised. Harry and Ron aren't entirely thick, you know, and it doesn't take a genius to start wondering precisely why the only wizard Voldemort is allegedly afraid of is tucked away safely whilst an eleven year old boy faces Quirrell on his own."
Severus said nothing, but his glance was eloquent. Silence descended for while, not precisely awkward, but she was aware that his decision could go either way. She hoped that she had done enough to shake him out of his preconceptions about Gryffindors in general, and her in particular.
"Hermione," he said, "would you like to meet for lunch at some point in the summer holidays?"
She resisted the urge to squeal with excitement - grown up, she thought, I must remember to be grown up - and simply replied, "That would be very pleasant, Severus. Perhaps you could owl me with a date?"
He nodded.
"There's just one other thing, Severus. A favour, I'd like to ask."
The next day the students milled around aimlessly, reluctant to board the train that would take them away from Hogwarts to begin their lives as adults. Hermione hadn't seen the boys on her way to bed the night before, and they had been so busy packing and saying their farewells this morning that she hadn't had the chance to tell them that she had - to put it bluntly - pulled last night. And she wasn't sure that she would have told them, even if she had had the chance. This was going to be fun.
They were about to find out the hard way.
Harry and Ron were astounded to see the tall, thin figure of Professor Snape making his way across the platform. The crowds of departing pupils parted before him, the habit of terror he had implanted in them still holding good despite their emancipation.
They were even more astounded when Hermione moved towards him. Although their conversation couldn't be heard over the chatter, the nature of their discussion was clear when he bent and kissed her hand.
Draco watched in open-mouthed horror as Professor Snape escorted Hermione across a suddenly silent platform to settle her in her compartment. Severus didn't stay to watch the train depart - when she had asked him to come down and see her off in the morning he had put his foot down on that point, determined not to look like a lovelorn fool. He had been surprisingly easy to persuade though, and she rather thought he was enjoying the stir he was causing. Severus, she filed away for future reference, is a bit of a drama queen. Although, to be fair, anyone could have worked that out from the way he flounced into potion's classes.
Harry and Ron looked at each other in astonishment, and then bolted into the train, eager to hear quite how she had managed to pull that off. She refused to answer any of their questions and sat calmly reading the paper, resolutely ignoring them with a faint smile playing across her lips.
Shortly after the train pulled out of the station, Draco put his head round the compartment door. "I don't know how you did it, Granger, but you did it. I should have known you had something up your sleeve when you made that side-bet. Here," and he thrust a bag of galleons at her with very bad grace.
"How much did you win, Hermione," asked Ron in amazement.
"500 galleons."
"Wow," said Ron.
Draco winced at the mention of the money. "Come on, Granger, give. How did you manage to get Snape down here this morning? Did you use your womanly charms?"
"It's simple, Draco. I just told him about the bet, and pointed out that 500 galleons would buy a very extravagant lunch. Congratulations, Draco - you just paid for our first date! Honesty is the best policy, you know."
He just shook his head. "You and Snape against the world. God help the world!"
She smiled, adding with a little acid in her voice. "Of course, that is something that you would have to get used to: compliments without the aid of potions."
He assumed an air of thoughtfulness. "I suppose I could make the sacrifice, provided that there would be some sort of quid pro quo."
Hermione stiffened. She hoped he wasn't suggesting anything obviously crude. He noticed her uneasiness, and added softly. "I just meant that you should feel free to pay me compliments in return."
She tentatively covered his hand with hers, and simply said, "Sorry." His faint look of surprise became more pronounced when she added warmly, "And of course I would pay you compliments. That goes without saying."
Awkwardly he changed the subject. "So who else volunteered to help you?"
"Harry and Ron were full of advice." She smiled fondly at the memory. "Harry offered what should be the best advice of all - just to be myself. Which, whilst it is true, is about the most useless thing anyone can ever say. I mean what bloody help is that - just be yourself? If that was all that it took, you would have been falling over yourself to ask me out already, and the bet wouldn't even be necessary. At least Lavender and Parvarti had something constructive to say, even Draco was more useful."
Severus snorted. He was obviously happy to hear something to Harry's disadvantage. "And young Mr Weasley?"
"He actually made the most sense."
She didn't think that Severus needed to know that Ron's reaction had been one of complete horror. "What the hell do you think you are playing at, chasing that Greasy Git? For god's sake, Hermione, don't do anything so thick. He'll make your life a living hell, and you'll probably be mentally scarred for life. It really isn't worth it, just to win some stupid bet."
Hermione continued, "He pointed out that the bet was a silly idea. And I thought, he's right. What did I really want? To win the bet or to actually persuade you that I was worth taking seriously? Ron thought that you would know about the silly bet one way or another. And I thought that if you did, it didn't take a genius to work out that you would be insulted if you thought that was the reason behind me asking you to dance. Not to mention the fact that you would be very likely to demonstrate just how unhappy you were with the situation in the most humiliating manner possible. And quite right too; if someone did it to me, I would be livid."
The smile on Severus's face was neither pretty nor pleasant. "Oh, yes," he said. "You would have regretted it for a very long time."
Hermione felt her insides lurch oddly. She found that feral smile to be very sexy, although she was obviously pleased that it wasn't directed at her personally at the moment.
Something of her glazed-eyed contemplation registered with Severus. A faint flush mounted his cheeks - whether embarrassment or something else, she couldn't tell - and his hand moved restlessly beneath hers.
"Miss Granger," he said. "I am not a very nice man. You would do better with someone of your own age and probably your own house."
"Not according to Pansy," she said cheerfully. "She says, and I think we can take her word for it, that Gryffindor men, boys, call them what you will, are universally dreadful in bed. I would like to have an orgasm sometime before I'm forty you know, preferably more than once. Perhaps even two in the same night?"
He snorted.
"Can you imagine," she continued blithely, "the sheer hell of trying to explain to one of them that, yes, the woman is supposed to enjoy sex as well; and no, just because they can wank for fifteen minutes doesn't mean that they are the last of the red hot lovers; and no, they aren't getting a blow job on the basis that they will last longer the second time, because quite frankly even if they managed to double ten seconds their performance is clearly still going to be inadequate."
Severus was by now openly laughing, a sight guaranteed to strike terror into the heart of any Hufflepuff and most of Gryffiindor.
"Frankly I don't have the time or patience to train one of them up. I need some time to get on with my reading you know."
"You seem to be setting very high standards," he said, "are you sure I would be able to live up to them."
"Well maybe not the first time, because they're usually dreadfully, but after that? Oh, yes," she breathed, "absolutely certain."
He smirked and patted her hand. "Have you considered that this might be some passing phase? A teenage crush? Like Professor Lockhart, for instance."
She looked daggers at him. "Well, judging from the behaviour of Lavender and Parvarti. " at his quizzical glance she conceded the point, "All right, and me - when I was 12, for heaven's sake - if I was in the grips of a crush I would believe you to be wonderfully handsome and the paragon of all virtues. I hardly think you are a knight in shining armour, and I am sure I would have noticed if you had a white horse tethered outside."
His face had darkened once the word handsome passed her lips, so she tightened her grip on his hands, and continued, "You aren't tall, dark and handsome, but I'm no raving beauty either. I think it's better to be tall, dark and interesting. You say you aren't a nice man; I agree, in many ways you're not. You have an evil temper and a tendency to bully people. If you haven't managed to bully me in seven years, when you were in a position of authority over me, how much less likely is it that you'll manage it now. Believe me, the first time you snap at me, and we both know that there will be a first time, I will snap back."
"Why on earth would you want to take up with me if I am so bad-tempered?" he sneered.
"Precisely because you are so bad tempered. I've got a temper of my own you know, just ask Malfoy, he has the scars to prove it. I want someone who isn't frightened of me, who will stand up to me and refuse to be bullied. I have nightmares where I wake up in ten years time, married to Ron, and still having to do all his thinking for him. I don't want to turn into Molly Weasley and have some shambling idiot of a husband who says nothing but yes dear. I would rather be having spirited discussions on the meaning of life, the contents of Ars Alchemica and precisely whose bloody fault it is that some domestic disaster has happened. Obviously it would be your fault, but I expect you would be stubborn and refuse to admit it."
"The Gryffindor boys frightened of you, are they?"
"Terrified, mostly, unless they want me to do their homework for them; then they manage to overcome their shyness quite nicely."
He looked puzzled. "But surely you enjoyed helping your fellow Gryffindors; you certainly seemed to spend a lot of time helping Longbottom. Didn't Minerva say something about you wanting to be a teacher?"
"Bloody typical!" Hermione wasn't pleased. "Harry got fifteen minutes worth of career advice, and Professor McGonagall practically offering to start a war to get him to be an Auror. I barely got five minutes, and she told me that if I was a very good girl and did as I was told I could be a teacher. I would rather poke my eyes out with a blunt wand than be a teacher," she stopped suddenly, realising just how much she was insulting Severus, and added wryly, "No offence."
"None taken. I feel like that myself most days."
"I'm not surprised. Teaching Neville must have been a strain."
"You ought to know, you spent most of your potions lessons teaching him, despite my express instructions."
"Self defence," she said darkly. "That, and of course, good old Hermione could be relied upon to help out anyone who needed it. I mean, you think you had problems. I had to sit next to him every bloody lesson. I never had time to be frightened of you, you know, I was too busy worrying what Neville was going to do next. Now he really was scary. The number of times I had to stop him blowing us all up! Neville is a sweet boy, but he should never been allowed to take potions at NEWT level."
"I agree. I told Dumbledore he was a danger over and over again, but all he did was twinkle at me and then ordered me to take him anyway."
"Bastard," she said.
"Not a member of the Dumbledore Appreciation Society?" he said in mock- surprise. "I thought membership was compulsory for Gryffindors?"
"You'd be surprised. Harry and Ron aren't entirely thick, you know, and it doesn't take a genius to start wondering precisely why the only wizard Voldemort is allegedly afraid of is tucked away safely whilst an eleven year old boy faces Quirrell on his own."
Severus said nothing, but his glance was eloquent. Silence descended for while, not precisely awkward, but she was aware that his decision could go either way. She hoped that she had done enough to shake him out of his preconceptions about Gryffindors in general, and her in particular.
"Hermione," he said, "would you like to meet for lunch at some point in the summer holidays?"
She resisted the urge to squeal with excitement - grown up, she thought, I must remember to be grown up - and simply replied, "That would be very pleasant, Severus. Perhaps you could owl me with a date?"
He nodded.
"There's just one other thing, Severus. A favour, I'd like to ask."
The next day the students milled around aimlessly, reluctant to board the train that would take them away from Hogwarts to begin their lives as adults. Hermione hadn't seen the boys on her way to bed the night before, and they had been so busy packing and saying their farewells this morning that she hadn't had the chance to tell them that she had - to put it bluntly - pulled last night. And she wasn't sure that she would have told them, even if she had had the chance. This was going to be fun.
They were about to find out the hard way.
Harry and Ron were astounded to see the tall, thin figure of Professor Snape making his way across the platform. The crowds of departing pupils parted before him, the habit of terror he had implanted in them still holding good despite their emancipation.
They were even more astounded when Hermione moved towards him. Although their conversation couldn't be heard over the chatter, the nature of their discussion was clear when he bent and kissed her hand.
Draco watched in open-mouthed horror as Professor Snape escorted Hermione across a suddenly silent platform to settle her in her compartment. Severus didn't stay to watch the train depart - when she had asked him to come down and see her off in the morning he had put his foot down on that point, determined not to look like a lovelorn fool. He had been surprisingly easy to persuade though, and she rather thought he was enjoying the stir he was causing. Severus, she filed away for future reference, is a bit of a drama queen. Although, to be fair, anyone could have worked that out from the way he flounced into potion's classes.
Harry and Ron looked at each other in astonishment, and then bolted into the train, eager to hear quite how she had managed to pull that off. She refused to answer any of their questions and sat calmly reading the paper, resolutely ignoring them with a faint smile playing across her lips.
Shortly after the train pulled out of the station, Draco put his head round the compartment door. "I don't know how you did it, Granger, but you did it. I should have known you had something up your sleeve when you made that side-bet. Here," and he thrust a bag of galleons at her with very bad grace.
"How much did you win, Hermione," asked Ron in amazement.
"500 galleons."
"Wow," said Ron.
Draco winced at the mention of the money. "Come on, Granger, give. How did you manage to get Snape down here this morning? Did you use your womanly charms?"
"It's simple, Draco. I just told him about the bet, and pointed out that 500 galleons would buy a very extravagant lunch. Congratulations, Draco - you just paid for our first date! Honesty is the best policy, you know."
He just shook his head. "You and Snape against the world. God help the world!"