Something to Worry About
Disclaimer: I didn't own them before. Don't now. Go figure.
A/N: See end of chapter.
~
"Do I need a what?!" He asked.
"I asked, Professor, whether you needed an assistant." Her expression was one of exasperation. He stared, looked at the bottle, then looked back at her.
"Am I pissed?" he asked curiously, to no one in particular.
Hermione shut the door behind her, closing it tightly. She plopped down across from him in much the same way he had earlier. "You haven't been alone long enough to get pissed."
"Oh. That makes sense."
She was quiet.
He thought about it. His responsibilities were most definitely enough to warrant an assistant.
"Did Albus put you up to this?"
"What?"
He looked at her appraisingly. "Did that batty old fruitcake put you up to this? Is this some joke?"
"God, Snape, pull the stick out of your arse for two minutes, will you?! I saw you yesterday after your second-year class."
"And?" he asked defensively.
Her eyes widened. "I didn't know if you were asleep or dead at your desk. How much sleep are you getting, Professor?"
Not enough. "That's none of your concern. Why do you care, anyway, Granger?"
She sighed. Because I'm a sucker for hopeless causes. "Because it's not like you to act this way. Is it getting worse?"
"I told you, my activities are none of your concern!"
"They most certainly are when they put the Order in danger!" she countered. Angered, she continued. "I can guarantee that if I've noticed an aberration in your behavior, a junior Death Eater has. What if Draco were to tell Dear Old Dad that Professor Snape is cracking under the strain?!"
He sobered. She was right of course. But he'd never tell her that.
*
"Miss Granger, I told you to mince that gingerroot, not dice! Do you not know the difference or are you just hard of hearing?"
It had been two weeks. And she was ready to kill him. To just choke the life out of him and then use various body parts in Dark Potions. Powder his fingernail, mash his eyeballs, flay his-
Wait. Don't go there. That's way too personal.
She veritably growled as he insulted her.
With a renewed vigor, she minced her gingerroot; practically paper thin. She shot him a withering look that would have made Voldemort wince and cringe. He didn't notice.
When she was finished, she continued on to the next task: grinding laurel into a fine powder. After three minutes, she heard a huff from behind her.
"You're not grinding that fine enough!"
That was it.
"FINE!" She slammed the mortar and pestle down with a resounding crash and whirled to face him. Steam practically curled from her ears.
"If you're so damned intent on perfection, you should bloody well do it yourself, you great bloody BAT!"
"Miss Granger! You will not speak to me in such a manner!"
She stepped forward until she was nose-to-nose with her professor. "WELL THEN GIVE ME A BLOODY BREAK OR YOU CAN BLOODY WELL SOD THE BLOODY HELL OFF!" she bellowed.
He blinked. No one had ever bellowed at him before. Except for his mother. And father. And Minerva, once… but that was a total misunderstanding. And she was drunk… But back to the fact that Hermione Granger was nose-to-nose with him. And she had the most appealing facial features.
Without thinking, he bent his face to hers and kissed her. She froze. He broke away in surprise. Had he just-? Had he just kissed Hermione? Had he just kissed a student? His best student? His assistant?
She stared at him, still frozen.
"M-Miss Granger, I-"
He never finished.
Mostly because she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.
~
A/N: I know, short, but I wanted the cliffhanger… And it's only chapter two.
Thanks to my reviewers, more soon. :o)
/Gavin\