A/N: Hello people, I'm so glad I'm getting reviews! This is making me happy…but yeah, if you don't like these slashes at all, then why are you reading this? You should be off in your own stupid little RW/HG, HG/DM, HP/HG slashed worlds. I would like to dedicate this story to my two best friends, who had several comments about this that I find amusing, well here they are:  "WHY?!?"  "You are a flaming weirdo!" "That's just sick." "WHY??" "Do you realize how perverted you are?" "WHY??" "He's like, in his forties or something!" "WHY?" (Yeah, you get the picture, but anyway, I am doing this because I CAN! Plus, I, for one, think I am a substantially good writer, therefore not making it a crappy HGSS! Ok, now read!)

Chapter 3: Uncomfortably Comfortable

Several weeks had passed by since that first day of Potions, when Snape and her had locked eyes. She shuddered; did she really need to think about that? One thing that had caught her curiosity, though, she was not sure what to do about it. He looked like he doodled. He now rarely prowled around the classroom until the very end, to comment on how horrible our potions looked, although hers he never found anything wrong with. He would stand behind her for a long time before striding over to the terrified Neville, who he could not believe had passed his Potions OWL.

He always seems to be drawing, why is that? He's not doodling D's or anything on people's papers, but on blank parchment. What is he doing? Ginny says he never does things like that in her class; he only seems to do this in our sixth year class. One time Harry and Ron came in late, and he didn't even blink an eye. What is wrong with that man?

Hermione could only have time for such thoughts in Potions, always aware of his eyes on her as she worked. Was he just trying to catch her making a mistake to take points off? She did not know, but the amount of homework he gave them did not seem to be altered by his new moods.

"Hermione! Wait up!" Harry ran to catch up with her as she walked to the library, as usual.

"Oh, hi, Harry. What's up?"

"Oh, I just thought I'd come up and work on homework with you," he said casually.

"No, you may not copy!"

"I wasn't planning too! I'm a sixth year now, I think I can write most of my essays myself."

"Fine then." And they entered the library and chose a quiet table in the corner so as not to be disturbed. And then they set out their books, dipped their quills into the inkwells, and began to write…

Snape had just finished with his first year class, laughing at how stupid they all were. He loved terrifying them the most, setting up the fear that would follow them through the rest of their years at Hogwarts. Then his mind drifted onto Hermione Granger, which it hadn't done for the past several weeks.

Did he think of her as intelligent? Worthy of such time put into thinking about her? He did not know. It was slightly unnerving to him that he was middle-aged, only about 36 years old, thinking about a 16 year old girl, well, woman was more of what she was now. Regardless of the increased toughness of sixth year Potions, Hermione was going through it like she was half asleep. He pondered why everything was so easy for her. A muggle-born with that much intelligence? He did not think it was possible. 

But it was. He doubted any other kid her age in the Muggle world had an once of intelligence comparable to her. Maybe he was wrong in thinking all Muggle-borns were stupid, slow, and lacking in magical skills. Hermione was very skilled, especially in Charms, (which Snape admired because Charms had never been his strong subject). 

He sipped at the now lukewarm fire whisky he had placed on his desk, untouched through these thoughts. Maybe he was going crazy, the Cruciatus Curse performed on him many times by the Dark Lord might have affected his mind somehow, that he was thinking of his students in an inappropriate way. He rose and realized that he now had to perform his hall-patrol duties tonight. He smiled; maybe he'd catch a student out of bed and give them detention. That was his favorite part of the job, everything else about it he hated, and it was a waste of his time. 

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Hermione and Harry had worked late into the evening on their homework, Ron had joined them later, and now they realized that Madame Pince had not noticed them, and that the library was deserted.

"Harry, Herm, we were supposed to be in the Gryffindor Tower twenty minutes ago!" Frantic, they shoved their homework into the schoolbags and broke at a dead run to the common room. Unfortunately, Hermione had forgotten the trick step and her foot sunk in, Harry and Ron well ahead of her, not noticing her absence. She tried yanking her foot out, but it was hard with her heavy schoolbag; she dropped it.

The bag landed with a loud thud before rolling down the staircase, bumping into the sides with echoing bangs before coming to a halt at the bottom. Hermione froze, if the teachers heard that, she was dead.

And she heard footsteps coming down the corridor to the stairs, she yanked with all her might, but the trick stair just would not let her foot come out. Her heart beating fast in her chest, she waited for the person to discover her and punish her for being out of bed.

Snape had sullenly started his patrols, bored out of his mind that no one was around for him to give detention to. He made his way around in the dark, he knew where to go with depending on a light. He had heard a noise, and was coming to investigate. That was until he crashed into something soft and his foot sank into the telltale trick stair. He gave a grunt of surprise, and he heard a gasp very close to him. He felt a warm body against his, (the staircase was not very wide) and no matter where he turned, he still was pressed against the person. He gave a growl of annoyance and yanked out his wand.

"Lumos!"  And Hermione Granger appeared in front of his face, very close to it in fact. They were just inches away from each other, he could smell her, she smelled like lavender. 

"Hermione! I mean, Miss Granger! What in the bloody hell are you doing??" He hissed.

"Trying to get my foot out of this stair, Professor!" she said angrily.

"Five points for speaking like that to me, and detention!" he shot back.

"Sir?" she said, apparently, oblivious to loss of points and detention.

"What?!" Suddenly she put a hand on his chest, as if to lengthen the distance between them in these close quarters. It was warm, he felt through his robes, and he stopped moving, his eyes on her.

"Um, we need to get out of this stair, so will you just help me?" he laughed to himself. Me, help a student? Yeah right. I'll just get myself out and leave her to fend for herself. I have never helped a student; this will not be the first time.

But he realized that he would have to help her, he couldn't get himself out without twisting his ankle. So, with slight hesitation, wrapped his arms around her waist, dropping his glowing wand, and pulled as hard as he could, her foot came free finally, and he set her down as if she was a feather. His wand had, in his quick disposal of it, had clattered down the stairs, leaving them in the dark again.

Hermione was glad it was dark; she was blushing more scarlet that anything Ron had ever come close to.

Snape finally had enough space to get himself out of the step. Hermione was staring stupidly at him in the darkness. He brushed pashed her down the stairs to find his wand, Hermione close behind him.

"Must you follow me like a shadow? Go to your dormitories!"

"Sir, I dropped my book bag, I have to find it," came the meek reply. Then she kneeled down and picked something up, this caught Snape by surprise, and he tripped over her and they both fell on top of each other. Hermione did not think this night could get any stranger; first they had been stuck on the trick stair, comfortably close, and now Snape had fallen on top of her. This had to be the weirdest thing that had ever happened, if someone came upon them now, they would get a very wrong idea.

Snape, caught in a state of shock, gave a gasp for air; the fall had knocked the wind out of him. He felt Hermione's heart beating against his chest, her body shaking under him. He scrambled up and grabbed his wand, still glowing, off the floor several feet away. He glanced over at Hermione; she had pulled herself into a sitting position, staring at him in interest. He saw her book bag and grabbed it, shoving it into her arms; his hand brushed against hers. Hermione's hand tingled. Snape coughed uncomfortably.

"Get…to…. your…. dormitory…now…" He said weakly, and Hermione dashed away as fast as she could, leaving an uncomfortable and confused Snape alone in his small orb of light. 'Nox,' he whispered, and with a swish of his robes he strode off in the opposite direction in the dark.

A/N: Kinda long, but yeah. A somewhat humorous chapter with situations between Snape and Hermione. I am assuming cough that Lily and James married when they were 20, so 16 years later (Hermione's age) makes Snape 36 years old, since he was in their same year, ok? And the spiral staircase is supposed to be about three feet wide. Neways, review!