Diclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, I only own the story that JK Rowling inspired in me. Constructive criticism and reviews always welcome
Chapter 2
Two weeks later, Snape was still in the foulest mood that any of his students could ever remember. He was snapping at everyone for any reason and no reason at all. He was even yelling at Slytherin students and had deducted a whopping fifty points from his own house just because Marty Goodfellow had mistakenly used two unicorn hairs in his potion rather just one. Everyone, including most of the other teachers, had taken to going out of their way to avoid Snape at all costs, going near him only if it was absolutely imperative to do so; even then speaking to him almost always ended badly.
No one knew for sure why he was in such a constant rage but people had started to make their guesses. Considering Snape became so infuriated every time he looked at Hermione Granger that he all but smoked at the temples, whispers around the castle grounds gossiped that his cranky state was due to her presence. Everyone began to assume that he was simply resentful once again that he had not been chosen as the professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was a well known fact that he longed to teach it and he never hesitated to make snide comments about whoever held the position from one year to the next. Strangely, he had not yet uttered a word about Professor Granger but he had been seen to grow pale at the mere mention of her name and had given two Slytherins and one Ravenclaw detention for discussing her class during Snape's Potions lab.
People were only partly right though. Of course Snape was disgusted that he had been denied the position again. He didn't know what drove him to continuously apply every time there was an opening but he did hope that one year Dumbledore would change his mind, so not landing the position had angered him greatly. It was so much more than that though. So very much more.
Hermione bloody Granger, Snape thought for possibly the millionth time as he headed to the teacher's common room one Friday afternoon. Is it not insult enough that no one can see that I am meant to teach that class? Hermione Granger! That… That…
"That Mudblood," he spat as he pushed the door open. "It's disgusting."
He paced in front of the fireplace, restless with anger. He tried to calm himself down by mentally listing the ingredients in his private stores. Usually the concentration of this exercise helped him to relax but he couldn't stop seeing her face on that first night in the Great Hall when she had glanced at him with one raised eyebrow, the smug little bitch. She had greeted him with a cool voice and it had taken all his efforts to resist the urge to slap the smirk right off her face.
"I would really like you to stop," a voice suddenly said.
Startled, Snape spun around and reached for his wand. Once he saw who it was, he had to resist the urge to grab his wand anyway. Angry that she had frightened him, he sneered and asked, "Stop what, Miss Granger?"
"Professor," she replied.
"I beg your pardon?" Snape retorted.
"Not Miss Granger. Professor Granger. Or have you forgotten?" Hermione never would have antagonized him when she was his student out of respect and more significantly, fear. However, now she considered herself his equal even if he did have years of experience over her. She supposed that at the young age of 22 she should probably still make some attempts at showing him a little respect but she figured he had never bothered to try all those times that he had made snide remarks when she was in his Potions class.
"Oh no, Hermione, trust me when I say that I would be hard pressed to forget your…" Snape seethed for a moment before continuing, "your position."
Hermione smiled but clenched her hands into tense fists. "Well Severus, I'm glad that you're comfortable enough to be on a first name basis." She smiled a little wider as she saw the anger flashing in his eyes at the use of his given name. "And what I would like you to stop is the glaring. I'm getting rather fed up of turning around to see you glowering at me every second of the day."
Snape began to open his mouth to snap at her but she carried on without giving him the opportunity. "I'm truly sorry if Dumbledore has ignored your request to take over my class yet again, but frankly it's not my fault nor is it my concern. Regardless of your feelings about that, I'm still your colleague and I think it would be best if you deal with it. It's not good for the students to see so much blatant disregard for me. As teachers here we should present a slightly more united front, don't you think?"
Snape closed his eyes against the sea of red that was swimming in front of his vision and willed himself to breathe. Don't strangle her, don't strangle her, don't strangle her, he kept repeating in his mind.
"Oh Miss Gr- Hermione. Perhaps you expect that I shall throw you a party in honor of your appointment to Professor of the Defense Against the Dark Arts. Be happy that glaring is all I do."
Without another word, he swept out of the common room and headed for the dungeons, muttering unspeakable things to himself as he went. Hermione rolled her eyes and sat on the couch. She really was enjoying her new job.
She looked at the fire with a smile on her face. Then rather abruptly, her grin started to fade. She really didn't want to constantly be at odds with Snape. For one thing, it was stressful to be the source of so much of someone's anger, bitterness, and resentment. For another, despite his obvious dislike of her in the past and his cruelty to his students, Hermione had always admired him. He may not have been the kindest teacher she had ever had, but he was undeniably intelligent, meticulous, and a hard worker. All three traits were qualities that Hermione had always valued both in herself and in others. If she was to be perfectly honest, he was the best potions master she had ever heard of in at least a century.
Twirling her hair idly in her fingers as she watched the flames flicker and cast shadows on the stone walls of the common room, Hermione wondered if perhaps the game of taunting each other had gone on long enough and if it was now time to attempt a peace treaty. She decided that indeed it was, but the real question was not "if" but rather "how". How on earth would she convince Snape that it was time to bury the hatchet?