Snape Gets His
Disclaimer: I hereby disclaim, confusedly and at length, that I have ever understood why it is necessary to have disclaimers. Okay, yes, they are necessary, but I really dislike it. I'm not going to steal another person's intellectual property, not only because I want to write all of my own stuff and would hate to even have a sniff of someone else's ideas in one of my original pieces, but because plagiarism is stupid. With the rate of successful litigation cases today, you're best to just stay away from another person's stuff. But , really, some companies take it too far. I mean, you can get sued for writing a copyrighted term down. Well here- Harry Potter. Woo. Hogwarts. Ooh, scary. I'm saying a copyrighted term. Take that, Warner Bros. Oops, that's also copyrighted.
Sorry, but I just get annoyed by all that crap.
Notes: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. This chapter is a bit longer, and also Snape begins to Get His in it. Trust me, next chapter, he really is going to have his ass kicked. I hope I did Hermione okay- it's hard to picture her doing certain things as an adult, but I did my best.
Chapter Six
Snape sat up, sweat beading the lines of his brow. As his eyes took in the darkness, he realised that he had fallen asleep in front of the fire place again. Fire place, not fire- never a fire to warm the hearth in this particular part of the dungeons.
Dungeons, Snape reflected, as his posture relaxed from its ramrod- straight position. Just the place, really. He couldn't have asked for a more fitting set of lodgings. Snape half-smiled, remembering. No, he really couldn't have asked- he had only been eleven when he had been placed in them, a twisted soul even then.
Snape didn't fool himself. Every part of his life, he had chosen. Every damned part. Certainly, his parents had been slightly cold when he was a child- they had been upper-class, middle-aged, and English. All people of such a type, raised in an era of logic instead of emotions, regarding child-bearing as an investment rather than a blessing, were cold. They could have been worse.
Certainly, at the time in which he had joined it, the House of Slytherin was a true snakes' nest, full of calculation and guile, where children became cold hearts instead of sweethearts. It was no secret that Voldemort had found the greater part of his supporters in the graduates of Slytherin House. But there had been those who had graduated with quite clean consciences, and gone on to succeed with ways no more underhanded than understanding the game of life better than others. And Slytherin had been a Dark house long before Severus Snape had been sorted into it- the Sorting Hat had known what it was doing.
No. There was not even a chance for blame amongst his comrades in the Dark. He had joined Voldemort with very little encouragement, of his own free and calculated will. It had just taken him a little time to see that those who lusted after power through such means as joining the Dark Lord were the most powerless of all.
No-one had stayed his hand while he had watched countless innocents die. No-one had forced him to keep going when he had begun to wake up every morning, screaming. No-one had controlled his actions as he calculatedly poisoned his beloved art of potions by inventing wonderful little concoctions with new and ingenious ways of prolonging death, controlling agony; ensnare the mind and bewitch the senses, indeed. No-one had made him do all the things that he relived in his dreams every single night.
He had no-one to blame except his own sweet self.
Which he did, quite liberally, every night. And hated himself all the more for it, for his weakness in regretting that which could not be changed.
But here was something puzzling. He had fallen asleep, not unusual in itself, this time of evening. He had dreamed, again not at all unusual, as his sleeping hours were often more active than his wakeful ones- another reason for embracing insomnia. In his dream, however, he had been overwhelmed by a feeling of peace. The demons which usually haunted him had all been gradually chased away, pushed aside by a comforting hand. He had a feeling that he had been... embraced, enveloped by warmth. He had cried, something that he had not done since a child. And with the tears had come a feeling of being purged, being comforted, if not forgiven. It was as if he had been held by the night. It was the most wonderful feeling he had experienced in a very long time.
It was also very unsettling. Though Snape despised the self-pity and regret that visited him each night, he knew that it was just. The things he had done deserved no forgiveness, no pity. He could do what he could to atone for his deeds, but there could be no hope for forgiveness. Such a feeling was a poison in his soul, and the self-disgust for wanting to accept such forgiveness was harsher than anything that had come before.
With a curse, he stood, and began to pace the room. The initial feeling of strangeness that had come when he rescued the girl had not resided with knowing what was wrong with him. Dumbledore had warned him that this new- thing, curse, whatever it was- would be affecting his moods, but he hadn't expected this. The dream had felt so real. It was difficult to assure himself that he had just been experiencing that girl- Ailie's- emotions. The little wench. Well, this was obviously his punishment for saving her. He supposed he deserved no less.
Another wave of feeling washed over him. This time it was different, something he had never really experienced before, something he couldn't define. He liked it all the less for it. A growl sounded deep in his chest. He couldn't handle this any more.
Perhaps a patrol of the corridors would help him purge these emotions.
***
Hermione stayed until Ailie was ready for bed. She tried not to show it, but she was extremely worried for her friend.
And extremely angry at Severus Snape.
Ailie had never really said anything about the night her parents had died. In fact, the only reason Hermione knew that they had died was through Dumbledore's explanation. Tonight, however, the walls she had built up had been washed away, the story flowing from her with her tears. Hermione was glad- it had surely done Ailie good to at least talk about how she was feeling.
That Ailie hated Snape with a passion was undoubted. Hermione could understand- to Ailie, Snape was part of the group that had done this to her. She could also appreciate what Snape had risked to save Ailie. After all, he had done it before, in her presence, some years ago. Hermione knew that Severus Snape was a hero of sorts.
However, Hermione also knew that he was a cruel bastard, and everything Ailie had told her seemed to confirm it quite well. To imprison a girl, lock her hands beneath the sheets and take away her power of speech, just after she had gone through the ordeal she had, was cruel and also stupid. Hermione, who had done the required psychology course for her teaching diploma, and had pursued the subject further for fun, was aware of the psychological after-effects of trauma. Surely Snape, with all his own personal experience in that area, could have comprehended what he was doing to the girl. There was no excuse- he was just being the cruel bully he was.
But that wasn't the real reason for Hermione's anger. Seeing her friend tonight, all but embodied with the spirit of Severus Snape, Hermione had been truly scared. If Ailie and Snape were truly linked by blood, who knew what sort of experiences Snape could have passed on to her? Snape had done some terrible things in his time, things that Ailie probably wouldn't be able to handle right now, having just been on the receiving end.
Surely there was something the man could have done to prevent this. The whole situation reeked of his usual carelessness of other people's feelings. Having been in his classroom for seven years of her childhood, Hermione was still under the impression that Snape, while a bastard, was at least an amazingly intelligent bastard. She had no doubt that he could find a cure for whatever this thing was that linked him and Ailie. He had ruled his class like a god for seven years, seemingly knowing everything there was to know about potions, and Hermione held on to the childhood belief that he could find the cure if he wanted to.
No, it the fault lay at his feet if Ailie suffered. He was the one with the knowledge of wizard magic. He was the one that had stood idly by for the past two weeks, not even visiting the girl he had rescued; not even checking if his accidental 'soul mate' was okay.
Before Ailie had agreed to go to bed, she had muttered something that had given Hermione an idea. Ailie had talked about getting her revenge on Snape, something which, although perhaps desirable, Hermione knew was impractical. Where did revenge get anyone? But the remark had given rise to the question- why were they just sitting around? If Snape wasn't doing anything about the situation, at least Hermione could. She had the vast library of Hogwarts at her fingertips, and the libraries at the British Wizard Museum were only a short walk to Hogsmeade and an apparation away. They hadn't even looked for an answer before they gave up on one.
With the bright spark of an idea in her mind, Hermione decided to head for the library. Dumbledore had kindly informed her that access after hours was quite acceptable for teachers, dispelling her former worries. There had never been a chance for sleep for Hermione once she had an idea in her head, and there wouldn't be now that she finally knew she had work to do.
Making sure that Ailie was asleep, Hermione slipped out of the door, darting into her own rooms for a pad of paper and a pen. She could begin by making a list of all the books likely to help- that would be a start, at least for tonight.
Out of habit, Hermione cast an invisibility spell on herself and her belongings, enjoying the quiet of the night. She decided to wander a little, before heading for the library, to enjoy the glint of moonlight on the wintry landscape through the windows. Besides, being the last night before term, there was a chance that some students would risk reprimand to say a private goodbye to their sweethearts, and the Christmas spirit would lead to more high-jinks than usual. It couldn't hurt to do a brief patrol of the corridors.
Turning a corner, Hermione smiled. Bingo. Two students- third-years, by the looks of them- were enjoying a quiet moment behind one of the statues. From the other direction- Hermione was interested to note that it was the direction leading to the dungeons- they would have been invisible, but approaching from Gryffindor Tower they were in clear sight. Obviously, they were counting on no-one but grumpy Snape to be wandering about at this time of night.
Hermione's smile widened as she decided to play a trick on them. Giving them the scare of their lives might just prevent them from choosing a little nighttime rendezvous next time they were desperate to might. It was also a bit of fun.
As quietly as she could, Hermione walked up to the pair, huddled together behind the statue. She got close enough to breathe on them before speaking.
'Boo,' she said, quietly. The whisper reverberated in the still night.
Both students shrieked gratifyingly as Hermione undid the invisibility charm on her, looking about as scared as a couple of students caught necking by a teacher could be.
'All right, you two. I can take a guess as to why you're out here, but I'm sorry to say that we can't let you guys wander about out here at night, no matter how much you're going to miss each other.' With the look of extreme shock fading from their countenances, the two students watched Hermione apprehensively. She smiled at them. 'Five points from each of your houses, and off to bed. Go on,' she added, when the relieved pair hesitated.
'Twenty points. Each.' The threatening undertone shattered the stillness in the corridor, and Hermione turned, just as startled as the students.
'Bed. Now,' said Snape, approaching from the direction of the Gryffindor Tower. The two words were less an instruction than an underlying threat as to what would happen if he was disobeyed.
The two students scuttled off in opposite directions. Hermione sighed, mentally counting to ten. This was the second time Severus Snape had corrected her actions.
'That will be five points from their houses. Each,' she corrected, as Snape began to sweep past her.
'What?' His tone was one of disbelief.
'They were my students. They will be punished according to my orders,' Hermione stated, in as firm a voice as she could manage. Snape was doing his level best to glare her down, and even with almost eight years' experience in it Hermione was having trouble not wanting to whimper and run away.
'Miss Granger,' Snape began, a sneer evident in the words. 'While your loyalty to your fellow Gryffindors is... heartening, the children were out of bounds after curfew, and needed to be reminded that such behaviour is unacceptable.' Snape briefly looked her up and down. 'As is yours. I will escort you back to your quarters.'
Hermione drew a sharp breath. Ailie had told her that she was letting Snape walk over her, but he had never done something as unbelievably patronising as this.
'Those two students were Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw,' she said, as he turned to go. he turned back sharply.
'What?' Snape turned on her. He was at least two meters away, and yet strangely Hermione felt like she needed to step back. She fought it.
'I was not favouring my house, Professor Snape. Those two students were from two entirely different houses to that from which I graduated over a year ago.' She clenched her jaw briefly, fighting the instinct to back off under his glare. 'I, like you, have now graduated from this school. And I, like you, do not favour students.' Hermione stared straight into the black pools of Snape's eyes, willing him to take her up on it. After the initial reaction to his commanding tone, Hermione's body was filled with fear-driven adrenaline, and she was well on the way to working it into anger. Just say that I favour Gryffindor students, Snape, she thought. Just dare me to do it.
Snape, however, merely raised an eyebrow.
'Therefore I say it is only five points, from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff,' Hermione finished. Seeing the flicker of anger through Snape's dark eyes, she swallowed. Enough bravery for tonight. 'Now, if you will excuse me, I was on my way to the library.'
'Then I will wait.' Snape crossed his arms. 'And it will be twenty points from each of those houses, Miss Granger,' he added, in a deliberately condescending tone, 'I believe that you would be wise to bend to my experience on these matters. After all you are still a student-' he paused, 'teacher.'
Hermione bit down on her lip in anger. His threat was clear; try to face up to him and he would do something to sabotage her teaching degree. Well, there were other ways to skin a cat. She would simply make sure that she saw those two students doing something that warranted fifteen points each, tomorrow.
'If you wish to stand around in the cold waiting for a colleague to complete a night's research, it is no concern of mine, Professor Snape. Just make sure you don't get in my way.' Another flash of anger sliced through Snape's eyes, and Hermione knew she had pushed too far. Perhaps if she had backed down, he would have left her alone, but now he had the look in his eyes that he always had when he was going to make someone's life hell.
Hermione turned on her heel and headed for the library before she could start to imagine what that something was.
***
The next few hours proved Hermione right. Snape didn't hover, didn't interfere. He simply leant against the wall and stared at her, ruining any chance at concentration. Hermione had always been a self-conscious girl, and being under Snape's stare was unsettling at the best of times. This was even discounting the new edge in his gaze, something which disturbed her more. As she had walked towards the library, Hermione had felt Snape's stare every step of the way. He had never looked at her like that when she was a student, his glares being much more cold-hearted. Somehow, Hermione could sense that cold didn't have very much with the way he was staring at her now. She had finally stood up to him as a woman, and he was punishing her for it by finally treating her as one.
It wasn't that his gaze was offensive. Hermione couldn't imagine the arrogant Potions Master stooping so low as sexual harassment. He simply seemed to take all of her in, assessing her. From the glimpses she had got of his face, the summation wasn't particularly flattering. And that was a part of his calculated plan.
The unwavering gaze also prevented Hermione from relaxing into the work as she would normally have done. With every movement, feeling the assessing eyes on her, Hermione also assessed. Only half-consciously, Hermione found herself wondering if she was graceful enough, if her limbs were awkward, if the way she held her quill looked strange.
It was as thorough a punishment as she had ever received.
After two hours, with very little work done, Hermione was tired of the tension. Snape was determined to ruin her evening, and he had succeeded. As she rose and gathered her things, she tried to console herself with the thought that she wouldn't have worked longer than that anyway. It didn't make her feel better as Snape proceeded to follow her as she left for her rooms.
As she turned a corner and was momentarily out of his sight, Hermione was struck by a sudden idea. Quickly, she charmed herself invisible, and grinned. It would serve him right to lose her.
She stood and watched as Snape rounded the corner. Her smile faded somewhat when Snape showed no surprise at her disappearance. He stopped, dark eyes glittering in the moonlight, and raised an eyebrow.
'Miss Granger, there is no need to behave like a child,' he said in a normal tone of voice, casually leaning against the wall.
When Hermione didn't reply, he continued, 'Though your ability with invisibility charms is no doubt admirable, Miss Granger, there was nowhere else for you to have gone in this corridor. Your usual logical faculties seem to have failed you, undoubtedly along with your apparent maturity. I, however, have no patience for childish displays.'
'Childish!' The disbelieving word burst from her before she could stop it. Hermione gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth, realising that that was precisely what Snape had been angling for. He began to walk purposefully toward her, and Hermione sighed. Snape had that look on his face again- the look that said that if she annoyed him any further, he would ensure she would regret it. Deftly she removed the invisibility charm, before he could reach her.
'I am capable of walking to my rooms alone, Professor Snape.'
'Indeed.' Snape let his sneering gaze wander over her. Hermione bit back a sigh of frustration, turned on her heel and stomped all the way to her room, uncaring of what Snape thought.
When she finally got to her door, she opened it with a wave of her wand and stormed inside. The door closed with a very satisfactory slam, but it didn't quite block out the amused look on Snape's face.
Hermione lay back on her bed. What an infuriating man. No, he didn't deserve to be called a man. He was too cold, too controlled for that. He reminded her of a time when she was eight, and playing with her older, male cousins. She had pestered them all day to play with her, refusing to accept 'no' as an answer. Eventually, the frustrated boys had begun to tease her, in such a way as to make her properly aware of her lack of age, height or strength in comparison to them. She had ended up running to her mother, thoroughly humiliated. They had known just which buttons to push to make her feel helpless, and worthless. Just like he had.
Tears welled behind Hermione's closed eyelids, but she refused to let them go any further. Crying over the acts of that man was the way of a child.
No, she would simply find a way for him to never do that again.
***
Snape strolled slowly back to his rooms, feeling strangely satisfied. It had never been his intention to hurt Miss Granger, but he had to admit that he was gratified by her childish anger. It was not often he was able to prompt such a strong response from someone usually so adult, so quiet.
Snape did not consider himself a bully. He knew that taking pleasure in others' humiliation was perhaps the act of one, but his intention had never been to humiliate the girl. At least, not much. He had wanted more to irritate her, just as she irritated him by her indignation and lenience. Five points and a smile was not even a subtle reprimand, and was no deterrent to those two students. Roaming at night, even within the well- protected halls of Hogwarts, was simply not safe, especially now. It angered him that the girl he whose name had been used in the staffroom for seven years as an epitome of intelligence and maturity should have no awareness of the dangers of these times. But perhaps it shouldn't have surprised him- she had been, after all, involved in almost every scrap that Potter and Weasley had been in during their years at Hogwarts, escapades which had endangered theirs and others lives. It shouldn't be surprising that the child was still soft-hearted.
She was no longer a child, however, as she had pointed out. It was annoying how these things changed. He would have brought up the issue of employing ex-students with Albus but the old wizard would surely have given him one of those Looks, and Snape always got a headache from those Looks. Besides, the headmaster would bring up the all-too apt point that most of the teachers were ex-students anyway, and ignore Snape's point entirely, and if Snape tried to explain at all Dumbledore would give him another type of look which would say plainer than words that he knew Snape disliked change, and that change was what the world was all about, and that Snape would just have to get used to it as part of his, Dumbledore's, Let's-Get- Severus-Out-Of-His-Shell exercise.
No, Hermione Granger was now a grown woman. The problem was, for a grown woman, she certainly acted like a child. The thoughts of a child- yes! She still jumped to conclusions, still obeyed that stupid, unswerving loyalty. Just like the night she had raised her wand to him in defence of Sirius Black. He had to admit now that, perhaps, she had prevented him from injuring an innocent man, but she had had no call to do so. And Black had got away. Perhaps the man hadn't killed Potter's parents; Snape didn't really care. Snape knew what Black was, and that was a certain type of creature that would always be dangerous to his fellow man, perhaps because of his own Gryffindor stupidity. Just like Granger.
Snape eased himself to lay back on his bed. well, perhaps he had taught the Granger girl a lesson tonight. He hoped so. Not just for his own pleasure, the pleasure of being avenged for her impudence. No. The girl had too much heart. She had to learn to ignore it, or she wouldn't survive too well in these times.
Snape sighed, and with a word dispelled the lights floating around the room. With open eyes he tried to get some sleep.
***
The next morning, Hermione decided not to have breakfast with Ailie, as she occasionally did. She wanted to have breakfast with Ailie. It would be a pleasant start to the day. But she decided against it, simply because she wanted to so much. It would mean that she was avoiding Severus Snape, and that was a move of which she didn't want to make a habit.
With squared shoulders, she entered the hall, nearly groaned when she saw that her seat would be directly opposite Snape's, and calmly walked over to sit. She smiled at her companions, accepted the tea-pot and began her meal as best she could. It was difficult, considering her appetite had fled as soon as she had seen Snape. She felt almost as she had done whilst in school, waiting for Snape to punish her for something she had done. Anxiously, Hermione looked up, expecting to see him glaring at her as he had done last night. He wasn't. He was performing his usual breakfast motions, sipping at his tea and ignoring his food. He wasn't even aware she was there.
Hermione cursed herself for her foolishness. Of course he hadn't noticed. To him, last night had been yet another punishment of a recalcitrant student. It wouldn't even have been an extreme punishment. He probably didn't even remember what he had done.
A blush crept over Hermione's cheeks, and she bit the inside of her cheek. Damn him! How could his behaviour of last night still affect her this morning? Even now, he was making her aware of just how childish and unimportant she was.
As she helped organise the children to be transported to the train, Hermione found herself dwelling on the incident. The Slytherins were at their worst, not listening to anything she said, trying to play last tricks and last insults on their fellow students. By lunchtime, Hermione felt drained, and ever more angry at Snape and his favouritism.
Stomping her way to her rooms, Hermione couldn't get past the unfairness of it all. Severus Snape had always favoured his house. In every aspect of school life Slytherins acted as though they had the right to rule over everyone else, and all because of that man. Because of his attitude to his precious Slytherins, everyone else had to suffer, had to be wary of those wearing silver and green simply because they would do anything they wished. Draco Malfoy was a case in point- by the time he had hit fifteen, no girl would risk being alone with him, especially not the little ones. Luckily, the boy had grown up a little before they graduated, otherwise Ron would have beaten seven kinds of hell out of him on graduation day.
'Aargh!' Hermione let out an unladylike snort, and tossed some floo powder into the fireplace, calling Ailie's name. After a second, there was a knock on the door, and Hermione opened it to see her friend outside. She smiled.
'You can come in through the fireplace, you know,' she said.
Ailie shuddered. 'No, thank you. The last time was bad enough.' The trip through the floo system to her rooms that first time had been a rather traumatic experience for the Wiccan, and one she had no wish to repeat.
'I was wondering if you would like to have lunch with me,' Hermione asked, leading the way to some arm-chairs.
Ailie nodded. She and Hermione often shared meals; it was something to break up the tedium of being trapped in her rooms all day. Her seclusion was set to cease that evening, however, when her 'arrival' would be announced before dinner, and the two 'cousins' would have their reunion.
The food was quickly set out on Hermione's table, sent there by a flick of Hermione's wand that never ceased to amaze Ailie. Hermione had never quite got over her revulsion of the enslavement of house-elves, but food preparation was the one area where she gave way.
As she sipped at her chicken broth, Ailie noted how distracted her friend was. Hermione almost ignored her food, instead playing anxiously with her napkin. Not one to wait for an explanation, Ailie set down her spoon, and eyed her friend.
'Okay. What's wrong?'
'Um.' Hermione put down her napkin and looked her friend in the eye. 'Well, last night I had an idea about what to do about your problem with Professor Snape. Not the revenge problem,' she said quickly, seeing the eager look on Ailie's face. 'I thought perhaps there might be a way to control how much he gets to you. Maybe some sort of meditation.' Ailie nodded.
'I've been considering that. I mean, usually what is required for absolute self-knowledge is quite a while in a trance, with others to help. But I've been so different lately... I didn't think I could achieve that.'
Hermione's brow furrowed. 'Perhaps. Maybe what's blocking you at the moment is the fact that his blood is a wizard's blood- maybe it's confusing your skills. We'd have to talk to Professor Dumbledore-'
Ailie cut her off. 'Is that really what's been bothering you? I had a feeling you were upset.'
Hermione sighed. 'Sorry. I got a new idea.' She shrugged, and refocussed. 'When I was going to the library, I caught two students hiding behind a statue.'
'Hiding?' Ailie was confused. Hermione blushed. She had never got over her sensitivity of such things.
'You know, meeting... privately.'
'Oh. They were having sex?'
'No!' Hermione's blush became a flame on her skin. 'They were only third years!'
The girl across from her shrugged. 'Where I come from, you begin to have sex when you feel you want to. There's no rule that tells you when you're ready.'
Hermione shot her a serious look. 'They were kissing.'
'Oh. So?'
'Well, I've explained before that students aren't allowed out of the dormitories after curfew. Hogwarts can be a dangerous place at night. So I decided to scare them. I sneaked up on them and said 'boo.''
''Boo'?'
Hermione smiled. Sometimes the cultural gap between herself and her friend was surprising. 'Yes. It's a word that is used to startle someone. Usually said by ghosts, who sneak up to scare people.'
'Okay.'
'Well, I took five points each from them and was just abbot to send them on their way when Snape snuck up on me.'
'Pah.'
'Yes.' Hermione got up and began to pace the room, her anger returning. 'He's just so irritating! He wouldn't let me take the points from the children- he did it instead, and took twenty instead of five. Then he ordered me to go to bed!' Ailie raised an eyebrow, and Hermione ran her hands through her hair. 'Well, I tried to tell him that I was a teacher too, now, and that he couldn't do that, but he just ignored me! He followed me all the way to the library and stared at me while I worked- for two hours!' Ailie again raised her eyebrow. Interesting, that.
Hermione walked over to the fireplace, and leant on the mantelpiece. 'I got hardly any work done, and he insisted on walking me to my rooms. So I played a trick on him, and then he called me a child, and took me to my room anyway, and this morning he acted as though nothing had happened!'
With a frustrated noise, Hermione sat heavily on the couch, picking up a cushion to play with. 'I just wish he would treat me as a human being. He goes around favouring all of his horrid students, and then accuses me of favouritism! I just wish I could- could make him feel that way, somehow.'
Ailie moved to sit beside her friend. 'This is why you need to help me get him back, Herm. That overstuffed ape need to be taught a lesson.'
'But how?' Hermione turned hopeless eyes to Ailie. 'He's a very intelligent man, Ailie. He'd know if we were up to something, and he's able to detect all poisons- though we couldn't do that, of course-' A light dawned in Hermione's eyes. 'Wait! What would you say Snape hates most of all?'
'Apart from me?' Ailie frowned. 'I don't know. I hardly know the man, Hermione.'
'But you're linked. You must be able to tell something- you've been acting like him all week.'
'Well...' Ailie considered. In the past week, she had definitely not been herself, and there was only one other person she could have been. She thought back on all the odd things she had done. 'He hates warmth, had doesn't like to talk, and he doesn't like sweets. I never get annoyed by people laughing, but I think he does. I think he just hates everything nice.'
'Exactly.' Hermione smiled to herself. 'He hates everything that's good- everything that would make a normal person happy. In fact, he'd probably hate it if he was happy. It's brilliant!' Hermione caught the eye of her puzzled friend, and explained, 'we can't do anything to harm him, because that is wrong. I mean, we might want to, but we can't physically harm him. And we can't do anything to torture him, either, for the same reason. We're bound by law. But no-one can do anything to us if we do something to make him happy.'
'I don't want to make him happy. He is a-' Ailie trailed off in Gaelic, and Hermione waited for her to finish.
'But it won't make him happy, Ailie, don't you see?' Hermione got up and began to fish through her bookcase. 'Now... no, not that one. Which one did I see it in? I'd forgotten about that, but we wouldn't need to go that far...'
Ailie waited patiently for her friend to come back. It was not the first time that Hermione had gone off into her own little world, while pursuing an idea, and Ailie knew it would be explained in time.
'Here! Excellent.' Hermione flourished a red-bound book. It was quite thin, out-of-place in Hermione's collection of great tomes.
'Molly Weasley gave me this one Christmas. My friend Ron's mum,' she explained briefly, as she sat down. 'Now...' Quickly, Hermione leafed through the book, pausing here and there to consider a spell. 'I think one of these will do.' She bookmarked the pages, and turned to Ailie.
'If Snape hates things that usually make people happy, all we have to do to torture him is make him experience them. This book is full of comforting spells, spells that give you good dreams, potions to reveal your innermost desires, all that kind of stuff.' She smiled. 'Fairly useful for a teenage girl.'
'So what will we do?'
'Well, we will just choose a spell that will irritate him through pleasure. There's a potion here-' Hermione showed Ailie one of the bookmarked pages- 'that will make him feel generally happy all day, which I think will annoy him no end.'
'What about the other page?'
'That one's a little harsher. It's a dream potion. It would make him have a very lucid dream. It doesn't really explain the effects that well, so I thought the other potion would be a bit better.'
Knowing her friend's soft heart, Ailie reached for the book. 'I'll just have a quick look at that one, if you don't mind.'
Hermione waited patiently while her friend examined the spell, watching a slow smile creep across the girl's face.
'Oh, yes. We must do this one, Herm. The other one just isn't enough.'
Hermione shook her head. 'I can't do that. It's too much- we'll get in trouble.'
Ailie gave her an assessing look, rather like that which Snape had been giving her the night before. It made Hermione shiver. 'Hermione, you have to get over this concept that you are a defenceless little schoolgirl here. You are a grown woman, and a teacher in this school. If you want to play a trick on Snape, I'm sure no one will think the worse of you for it.'
'Ailie,' Hermione began. Her friend's voice had been to much like Snape's, and had had the effect of a slap in the face. 'It is precisely because I am a teacher here that I can't allow this. I'm supposed to be behaving like a responsible adult. I can't believe I even considered this.' She got up and paced the room. 'I'm doing exactly what Snape accused me of.'
Ailie watched her friend pace, and sighed. She had been so close to a good plan. Perhaps she still was. Wisely, the Wiccan decided to let the subject lie- for now.
***
The feeling of reserve that had sprung up between the two girls quickly faded as Ailie made her appearance in Hogwarts for the first official time. Hermione introduced her to the rest of the staff before dinner, acting like a delighted cousin, and soon the part took over. She found it difficult to stay angry at Ailie for long.
Dinner went well, especially because Snape was absent from it. Hermione was delighted with Ailie's reception, and her earliest fears that playing her cousin would put a strain on their friendship were shown to be unfounded, as the other girl showed every appearance of being able to take care of herself.
As the dinner ended, Hermione decided that it would be a good time to continue researching ways to help Ailie. The other girl seemed able to take care of herself, although at times she was all too silent for Hermione's liking. The sooner they found a way to control these Snapish moods, the better.
As she walked down the moonlit corridor, Hermione smiled. It would soon be Christmas, and she had a promise from Harry that he would visit with her. She would have to visit her parents, of course, but that could be done by floo. In fact, considering the fact that Ailie would be here also, it wouldn't be a bad idea for them to come to her for once- they could even have a real Christmas dinner in her rooms...
These pleasant thoughts were interrupted by an annoyed cough. Hermione looked up to see Snape, not a metre away from her. Well, it served him right to feel ignored, for once.
She made to move on, but Snape stopped her with a hand on her arm.
'Miss Granger, I believe we discussed last night that the two students caught in the corridors would be punished according to my guidelines?'
You can believe whatever you like, Hermione thought stubbornly, but merely put on a look of polite concern. 'Yes?'
'I will take that as an agreement. Why, then, may I ask were the two students' houses awarded an unaccounted for fifteen points, each, this morning?'
Hermione considered a moment. He has no power over me, I can do anything I wish, without his permission. 'I believe the two students may have done something to deserve those points, Professor.'
'You believe,' Snape sneered. 'You believe wrongly. In fact, I would go so far as to say that you just lied. I would say that those students were awarded points for nothing at all.'
'What an interesting theory. Now, if you will excuse me-'
Snape's hold on her arm tightened. 'No, I don't believe I will, Miss Granger. Why did you disobey my orders?'
'You can't give me orders,' Hermione whispered, a part of her terrified at her own daring.
'What?'
Hermione summoned up the anger of the night before. He can't do this to you, Hermione. You're not his student, not any more. 'I said you can't give me orders, Professor Snape. Did your hearing fail you?'
Snape sneered. 'No. Perhaps I was expecting too much that a mere child would be able to recognise when one of her superiors was attempting to educate her on proper punishment for recalcitrant pupils.'
'Superiors?' Hermione snorted, then bit her lip when Snape's hold tightened even more. 'I was on my way to the library, Professor Snape, if you would be so kind as to let me go.'
Without a word, Snape released her, so quickly that he almost pushed her over. Hermione continued on her way with as much speed as she could manage without running.
Only when she neared the haven of the library did she realise that Snape was following her again. Irritated, she turned to face him.
'I have no need of your protection, Professor. You may go.'
'Now who is giving the orders?' One ebony eyebrow raised mockingly.
'I wasn't giving you an order,' Hermione sighed with frustration. 'I merely want to be able to study in peace, without you looming over me like an overgrown bat!' At this, Hermione thought she saw a spark of amusement deep within his black eyes. It was gone too quickly to tell.
'This is a school, Miss Granger, in which we are both members of staff. It is not just you who might wish to make use of the library.'
Hermione might have blushed, had she not known that his words were a ruse. He had been heading in the opposite direction when they had come across each other.
She turned and entered the library, determined to ignore him, a plan which worked for ten seconds or so. Though they sat at different tables, Hermione felt Snape's presence as though he was sitting in front of her. Every time she looked up, that basilisk stare confronted hers.
'Snape, if you have nothing to do, you may leave. Or you could help me with my research.' Irritated beyond reason, Hermione was past fear. Having a screaming match with the man would be better than this quiet torture.
'My name is Professor Snape, Miss Granger, and I can assure you I have no interest in whatever you are doing.' Snape leant back on his chair, looking down the strong line of his nose at her.
Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. She had graduated a year and a half ago, and the man still wanted her to call him professor. Even the headmaster had insisted that she call him Albus, though she had yet to do so, feeling uncomfortable at the prospect. But it was a sign of mutual respect, one that Snape was obviously too petty to offer.
'Of course you don't have an interest. You don't have an interest in anything. No, of course you wouldn't care that I'm currently researching some way for you and Ailie to get out of this mess you put her in.'
'I put that girl nowhere, Miss Granger, aside from in a safe place. And I can assure you, child, I would be able to find a cure for this 'mess', as you call it, without your... inestimable faculties.' Snape put such an emphasis on the word 'inestimable' as to make it an euphemism.
It was too much. 'My name is Hermione Granger. Not 'Miss Granger', not even just 'child'. My name is Hermione.' Hermione glared at Snape, angered further by his lack of reaction. That he could be so utterly bloodless was the most frustrating aspect of all- he batted her down with a cruel word, yet didn't seem to care about the reaction he elicited. At least a real villain cared enough to want to wound their victim- Snape didn't seem to even notice.
Hermione decided it was time to see how far his uncaring attitude would go. 'I am a member of staff in this school, and therefore apt to call you whatever I want, Snape! No detentions for me if I call you a heartless old hermit, or tell you to shove your perfect potions advice where the sun doesn't shine. When will you get that into your thick skull!' Hermione stood, putting her hands on her hips.
'I just can't believe your arrogance. Perhaps maybe I should, after seven years of it, but somehow I thought that perhaps, maybe, behind that exterior of disdain, bias and sheer bloody-mindedness you would turn out to be half as intelligent as I thought you would be!'
'Intelligence?' Snape looked her up and down with that darkly assessing gaze of his, and sneered. 'Had I but known your utter lack of it then your position at this school might never have occurred. That a girl so reputedly astute could discover two students in the middle of the night-'
'Oh, get over it.' Hermione walked around the table, advancing on the shadowy figure in front of her. 'Believe it or not, Snape, your ideas for punishments are more apt to cause students to break the rules, rather than follow them, just to spite you. You have absolutely no idea of how the students of this school think. When I think of all the times Harry and Ron and I did something, just for the knowledge that you would hate it... All students react that way to you. I don't believe you care.' Hermione ran her hands through her hair, and glared at him. 'You glory in not caring about anything, pushing buttons for the fun of it. You play with the lives of children, Snape. Your absurd favouritism of your sappy little Slytherins has led to that house producing the most malignant, pathetic and inhuman graduates around today, and yet you accuse me of favouritism! Hah!' Her laugh was without humour. Snape was now glaring at her, but Hermione could not stop the flow of thoughts she had kept safely guarded for seven long years.
She sat on the table nearest Snape, and looked into his eyes. 'Your hypocrisy is astounding, and you don't seem to care who notices it. Or could it be that you don't even notice what a hypocrite you are?'
Snape rose before her, and Hermione almost gasped. A look was on his face that Hermione had never seen before, not even when she had tied him up in her third year.
Dark eyes looked down at her, fathomless. 'Hypocrite?' Snape smiled evilly. 'You wish to talk about double-standards, Miss Granger? Your idiotic Gryffindor loyalty has long prevented you from seeing how truly incompetent many of your house are. That you would hang about with Potter and Weasley, letting them steal from your essays, letting them cheat from your papers, and you criticise me for producing pathetic human specimens? You practically gave birth to their incompetence. Why, compared to the likes of Longbottom, with whom you spent almost your entire potions career, the graduates of Slytherin House-'
Hermione stood, facing him down. She felt as though she had been slapped. 'Don't you dare insult my friends! Compared to the students in your house, they're damned near saints! And don't you dare use the behaviour of others to excuse that of those you trained. The Slytherins in my year were the most disgusting, insulting, twisted people I've ever met.' She gave Snape a look of disgust. 'Behaviour. Harry and Ron may have cheated off my work once in a while, but in Slytherin, that was accepted form! Draco Malfoy barely managed to scrape up some dregs of human feeling by the time he left, despite the monster you wanted him to be. And Crabbe and Goyle were damned near rapists!'
Snape shot her a look filled with pure hate, but Hermione withstood it. 'Your pathetic little Gryffindor defence is useless against me, Miss Granger. Be assured, though I have done things I regret in the past, not one occurred after the time you were five.'
'Well, that just shows how truly sad your case is, doesn't it,' said Hermione, slowly coming down from her fountain of anger.
Snape, sensing that her tone held pity, sneered once more. 'Soft- hearted infant.'
'I am not an infant, Snape, and I will not tolerate being treated like one. You may have been able to play out your sick little torture games on me when I was in your classes, but it will happen no more. I am no longer under your control. And I am no child.'
Snape let his gaze wander over her, making Hermione feel ill at ease. When he looked back at her, his eyes showed distaste.
'No, you're not.' His tone clearly implied that, grown woman or child, there was nothing in front of him to interest him.
Hermione swallowed, aware that she was in deep water. 'Good night, Snape.' She turned with as much dignity as she could muster, before she gave in to the urge to slap him.
On her way to the door, she realised belatedly that they had had an audience. In fact, many of the staff stood crowded around the open library door, Dumbledore among them. Her cheeks flamed, but she carried on throughout the door.
None of the other professors said a word, but as she passed McGonagall, the older woman slipped her arm through Hermione's, and began to walk beside her.
'I've been wanting to tell him off like that for years,' the old witch said, a smile in her voice. 'Sappy little Slytherins, indeed. I would have said far worse, and still been on the mark.'
Hermione looked down as they continued walking, The enormity of what she had just done was beginning to sink in. 'Oh, my God.'
McGonagall patted her arm. 'I wouldn't worry about it too much, Hermione. Severus Snape is an irritable old bat, and gets told off for it far less often than he needs to. He probably enjoyed it.'
Hermione looked at her old transfiguration professor, and seriously doubted her words. The only thing Snape would enjoy where she was concerned would be her departure from the school in disgrace, she was sure.
Disclaimer: I hereby disclaim, confusedly and at length, that I have ever understood why it is necessary to have disclaimers. Okay, yes, they are necessary, but I really dislike it. I'm not going to steal another person's intellectual property, not only because I want to write all of my own stuff and would hate to even have a sniff of someone else's ideas in one of my original pieces, but because plagiarism is stupid. With the rate of successful litigation cases today, you're best to just stay away from another person's stuff. But , really, some companies take it too far. I mean, you can get sued for writing a copyrighted term down. Well here- Harry Potter. Woo. Hogwarts. Ooh, scary. I'm saying a copyrighted term. Take that, Warner Bros. Oops, that's also copyrighted.
Sorry, but I just get annoyed by all that crap.
Notes: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. This chapter is a bit longer, and also Snape begins to Get His in it. Trust me, next chapter, he really is going to have his ass kicked. I hope I did Hermione okay- it's hard to picture her doing certain things as an adult, but I did my best.
Chapter Six
Snape sat up, sweat beading the lines of his brow. As his eyes took in the darkness, he realised that he had fallen asleep in front of the fire place again. Fire place, not fire- never a fire to warm the hearth in this particular part of the dungeons.
Dungeons, Snape reflected, as his posture relaxed from its ramrod- straight position. Just the place, really. He couldn't have asked for a more fitting set of lodgings. Snape half-smiled, remembering. No, he really couldn't have asked- he had only been eleven when he had been placed in them, a twisted soul even then.
Snape didn't fool himself. Every part of his life, he had chosen. Every damned part. Certainly, his parents had been slightly cold when he was a child- they had been upper-class, middle-aged, and English. All people of such a type, raised in an era of logic instead of emotions, regarding child-bearing as an investment rather than a blessing, were cold. They could have been worse.
Certainly, at the time in which he had joined it, the House of Slytherin was a true snakes' nest, full of calculation and guile, where children became cold hearts instead of sweethearts. It was no secret that Voldemort had found the greater part of his supporters in the graduates of Slytherin House. But there had been those who had graduated with quite clean consciences, and gone on to succeed with ways no more underhanded than understanding the game of life better than others. And Slytherin had been a Dark house long before Severus Snape had been sorted into it- the Sorting Hat had known what it was doing.
No. There was not even a chance for blame amongst his comrades in the Dark. He had joined Voldemort with very little encouragement, of his own free and calculated will. It had just taken him a little time to see that those who lusted after power through such means as joining the Dark Lord were the most powerless of all.
No-one had stayed his hand while he had watched countless innocents die. No-one had forced him to keep going when he had begun to wake up every morning, screaming. No-one had controlled his actions as he calculatedly poisoned his beloved art of potions by inventing wonderful little concoctions with new and ingenious ways of prolonging death, controlling agony; ensnare the mind and bewitch the senses, indeed. No-one had made him do all the things that he relived in his dreams every single night.
He had no-one to blame except his own sweet self.
Which he did, quite liberally, every night. And hated himself all the more for it, for his weakness in regretting that which could not be changed.
But here was something puzzling. He had fallen asleep, not unusual in itself, this time of evening. He had dreamed, again not at all unusual, as his sleeping hours were often more active than his wakeful ones- another reason for embracing insomnia. In his dream, however, he had been overwhelmed by a feeling of peace. The demons which usually haunted him had all been gradually chased away, pushed aside by a comforting hand. He had a feeling that he had been... embraced, enveloped by warmth. He had cried, something that he had not done since a child. And with the tears had come a feeling of being purged, being comforted, if not forgiven. It was as if he had been held by the night. It was the most wonderful feeling he had experienced in a very long time.
It was also very unsettling. Though Snape despised the self-pity and regret that visited him each night, he knew that it was just. The things he had done deserved no forgiveness, no pity. He could do what he could to atone for his deeds, but there could be no hope for forgiveness. Such a feeling was a poison in his soul, and the self-disgust for wanting to accept such forgiveness was harsher than anything that had come before.
With a curse, he stood, and began to pace the room. The initial feeling of strangeness that had come when he rescued the girl had not resided with knowing what was wrong with him. Dumbledore had warned him that this new- thing, curse, whatever it was- would be affecting his moods, but he hadn't expected this. The dream had felt so real. It was difficult to assure himself that he had just been experiencing that girl- Ailie's- emotions. The little wench. Well, this was obviously his punishment for saving her. He supposed he deserved no less.
Another wave of feeling washed over him. This time it was different, something he had never really experienced before, something he couldn't define. He liked it all the less for it. A growl sounded deep in his chest. He couldn't handle this any more.
Perhaps a patrol of the corridors would help him purge these emotions.
***
Hermione stayed until Ailie was ready for bed. She tried not to show it, but she was extremely worried for her friend.
And extremely angry at Severus Snape.
Ailie had never really said anything about the night her parents had died. In fact, the only reason Hermione knew that they had died was through Dumbledore's explanation. Tonight, however, the walls she had built up had been washed away, the story flowing from her with her tears. Hermione was glad- it had surely done Ailie good to at least talk about how she was feeling.
That Ailie hated Snape with a passion was undoubted. Hermione could understand- to Ailie, Snape was part of the group that had done this to her. She could also appreciate what Snape had risked to save Ailie. After all, he had done it before, in her presence, some years ago. Hermione knew that Severus Snape was a hero of sorts.
However, Hermione also knew that he was a cruel bastard, and everything Ailie had told her seemed to confirm it quite well. To imprison a girl, lock her hands beneath the sheets and take away her power of speech, just after she had gone through the ordeal she had, was cruel and also stupid. Hermione, who had done the required psychology course for her teaching diploma, and had pursued the subject further for fun, was aware of the psychological after-effects of trauma. Surely Snape, with all his own personal experience in that area, could have comprehended what he was doing to the girl. There was no excuse- he was just being the cruel bully he was.
But that wasn't the real reason for Hermione's anger. Seeing her friend tonight, all but embodied with the spirit of Severus Snape, Hermione had been truly scared. If Ailie and Snape were truly linked by blood, who knew what sort of experiences Snape could have passed on to her? Snape had done some terrible things in his time, things that Ailie probably wouldn't be able to handle right now, having just been on the receiving end.
Surely there was something the man could have done to prevent this. The whole situation reeked of his usual carelessness of other people's feelings. Having been in his classroom for seven years of her childhood, Hermione was still under the impression that Snape, while a bastard, was at least an amazingly intelligent bastard. She had no doubt that he could find a cure for whatever this thing was that linked him and Ailie. He had ruled his class like a god for seven years, seemingly knowing everything there was to know about potions, and Hermione held on to the childhood belief that he could find the cure if he wanted to.
No, it the fault lay at his feet if Ailie suffered. He was the one with the knowledge of wizard magic. He was the one that had stood idly by for the past two weeks, not even visiting the girl he had rescued; not even checking if his accidental 'soul mate' was okay.
Before Ailie had agreed to go to bed, she had muttered something that had given Hermione an idea. Ailie had talked about getting her revenge on Snape, something which, although perhaps desirable, Hermione knew was impractical. Where did revenge get anyone? But the remark had given rise to the question- why were they just sitting around? If Snape wasn't doing anything about the situation, at least Hermione could. She had the vast library of Hogwarts at her fingertips, and the libraries at the British Wizard Museum were only a short walk to Hogsmeade and an apparation away. They hadn't even looked for an answer before they gave up on one.
With the bright spark of an idea in her mind, Hermione decided to head for the library. Dumbledore had kindly informed her that access after hours was quite acceptable for teachers, dispelling her former worries. There had never been a chance for sleep for Hermione once she had an idea in her head, and there wouldn't be now that she finally knew she had work to do.
Making sure that Ailie was asleep, Hermione slipped out of the door, darting into her own rooms for a pad of paper and a pen. She could begin by making a list of all the books likely to help- that would be a start, at least for tonight.
Out of habit, Hermione cast an invisibility spell on herself and her belongings, enjoying the quiet of the night. She decided to wander a little, before heading for the library, to enjoy the glint of moonlight on the wintry landscape through the windows. Besides, being the last night before term, there was a chance that some students would risk reprimand to say a private goodbye to their sweethearts, and the Christmas spirit would lead to more high-jinks than usual. It couldn't hurt to do a brief patrol of the corridors.
Turning a corner, Hermione smiled. Bingo. Two students- third-years, by the looks of them- were enjoying a quiet moment behind one of the statues. From the other direction- Hermione was interested to note that it was the direction leading to the dungeons- they would have been invisible, but approaching from Gryffindor Tower they were in clear sight. Obviously, they were counting on no-one but grumpy Snape to be wandering about at this time of night.
Hermione's smile widened as she decided to play a trick on them. Giving them the scare of their lives might just prevent them from choosing a little nighttime rendezvous next time they were desperate to might. It was also a bit of fun.
As quietly as she could, Hermione walked up to the pair, huddled together behind the statue. She got close enough to breathe on them before speaking.
'Boo,' she said, quietly. The whisper reverberated in the still night.
Both students shrieked gratifyingly as Hermione undid the invisibility charm on her, looking about as scared as a couple of students caught necking by a teacher could be.
'All right, you two. I can take a guess as to why you're out here, but I'm sorry to say that we can't let you guys wander about out here at night, no matter how much you're going to miss each other.' With the look of extreme shock fading from their countenances, the two students watched Hermione apprehensively. She smiled at them. 'Five points from each of your houses, and off to bed. Go on,' she added, when the relieved pair hesitated.
'Twenty points. Each.' The threatening undertone shattered the stillness in the corridor, and Hermione turned, just as startled as the students.
'Bed. Now,' said Snape, approaching from the direction of the Gryffindor Tower. The two words were less an instruction than an underlying threat as to what would happen if he was disobeyed.
The two students scuttled off in opposite directions. Hermione sighed, mentally counting to ten. This was the second time Severus Snape had corrected her actions.
'That will be five points from their houses. Each,' she corrected, as Snape began to sweep past her.
'What?' His tone was one of disbelief.
'They were my students. They will be punished according to my orders,' Hermione stated, in as firm a voice as she could manage. Snape was doing his level best to glare her down, and even with almost eight years' experience in it Hermione was having trouble not wanting to whimper and run away.
'Miss Granger,' Snape began, a sneer evident in the words. 'While your loyalty to your fellow Gryffindors is... heartening, the children were out of bounds after curfew, and needed to be reminded that such behaviour is unacceptable.' Snape briefly looked her up and down. 'As is yours. I will escort you back to your quarters.'
Hermione drew a sharp breath. Ailie had told her that she was letting Snape walk over her, but he had never done something as unbelievably patronising as this.
'Those two students were Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw,' she said, as he turned to go. he turned back sharply.
'What?' Snape turned on her. He was at least two meters away, and yet strangely Hermione felt like she needed to step back. She fought it.
'I was not favouring my house, Professor Snape. Those two students were from two entirely different houses to that from which I graduated over a year ago.' She clenched her jaw briefly, fighting the instinct to back off under his glare. 'I, like you, have now graduated from this school. And I, like you, do not favour students.' Hermione stared straight into the black pools of Snape's eyes, willing him to take her up on it. After the initial reaction to his commanding tone, Hermione's body was filled with fear-driven adrenaline, and she was well on the way to working it into anger. Just say that I favour Gryffindor students, Snape, she thought. Just dare me to do it.
Snape, however, merely raised an eyebrow.
'Therefore I say it is only five points, from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff,' Hermione finished. Seeing the flicker of anger through Snape's dark eyes, she swallowed. Enough bravery for tonight. 'Now, if you will excuse me, I was on my way to the library.'
'Then I will wait.' Snape crossed his arms. 'And it will be twenty points from each of those houses, Miss Granger,' he added, in a deliberately condescending tone, 'I believe that you would be wise to bend to my experience on these matters. After all you are still a student-' he paused, 'teacher.'
Hermione bit down on her lip in anger. His threat was clear; try to face up to him and he would do something to sabotage her teaching degree. Well, there were other ways to skin a cat. She would simply make sure that she saw those two students doing something that warranted fifteen points each, tomorrow.
'If you wish to stand around in the cold waiting for a colleague to complete a night's research, it is no concern of mine, Professor Snape. Just make sure you don't get in my way.' Another flash of anger sliced through Snape's eyes, and Hermione knew she had pushed too far. Perhaps if she had backed down, he would have left her alone, but now he had the look in his eyes that he always had when he was going to make someone's life hell.
Hermione turned on her heel and headed for the library before she could start to imagine what that something was.
***
The next few hours proved Hermione right. Snape didn't hover, didn't interfere. He simply leant against the wall and stared at her, ruining any chance at concentration. Hermione had always been a self-conscious girl, and being under Snape's stare was unsettling at the best of times. This was even discounting the new edge in his gaze, something which disturbed her more. As she had walked towards the library, Hermione had felt Snape's stare every step of the way. He had never looked at her like that when she was a student, his glares being much more cold-hearted. Somehow, Hermione could sense that cold didn't have very much with the way he was staring at her now. She had finally stood up to him as a woman, and he was punishing her for it by finally treating her as one.
It wasn't that his gaze was offensive. Hermione couldn't imagine the arrogant Potions Master stooping so low as sexual harassment. He simply seemed to take all of her in, assessing her. From the glimpses she had got of his face, the summation wasn't particularly flattering. And that was a part of his calculated plan.
The unwavering gaze also prevented Hermione from relaxing into the work as she would normally have done. With every movement, feeling the assessing eyes on her, Hermione also assessed. Only half-consciously, Hermione found herself wondering if she was graceful enough, if her limbs were awkward, if the way she held her quill looked strange.
It was as thorough a punishment as she had ever received.
After two hours, with very little work done, Hermione was tired of the tension. Snape was determined to ruin her evening, and he had succeeded. As she rose and gathered her things, she tried to console herself with the thought that she wouldn't have worked longer than that anyway. It didn't make her feel better as Snape proceeded to follow her as she left for her rooms.
As she turned a corner and was momentarily out of his sight, Hermione was struck by a sudden idea. Quickly, she charmed herself invisible, and grinned. It would serve him right to lose her.
She stood and watched as Snape rounded the corner. Her smile faded somewhat when Snape showed no surprise at her disappearance. He stopped, dark eyes glittering in the moonlight, and raised an eyebrow.
'Miss Granger, there is no need to behave like a child,' he said in a normal tone of voice, casually leaning against the wall.
When Hermione didn't reply, he continued, 'Though your ability with invisibility charms is no doubt admirable, Miss Granger, there was nowhere else for you to have gone in this corridor. Your usual logical faculties seem to have failed you, undoubtedly along with your apparent maturity. I, however, have no patience for childish displays.'
'Childish!' The disbelieving word burst from her before she could stop it. Hermione gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth, realising that that was precisely what Snape had been angling for. He began to walk purposefully toward her, and Hermione sighed. Snape had that look on his face again- the look that said that if she annoyed him any further, he would ensure she would regret it. Deftly she removed the invisibility charm, before he could reach her.
'I am capable of walking to my rooms alone, Professor Snape.'
'Indeed.' Snape let his sneering gaze wander over her. Hermione bit back a sigh of frustration, turned on her heel and stomped all the way to her room, uncaring of what Snape thought.
When she finally got to her door, she opened it with a wave of her wand and stormed inside. The door closed with a very satisfactory slam, but it didn't quite block out the amused look on Snape's face.
Hermione lay back on her bed. What an infuriating man. No, he didn't deserve to be called a man. He was too cold, too controlled for that. He reminded her of a time when she was eight, and playing with her older, male cousins. She had pestered them all day to play with her, refusing to accept 'no' as an answer. Eventually, the frustrated boys had begun to tease her, in such a way as to make her properly aware of her lack of age, height or strength in comparison to them. She had ended up running to her mother, thoroughly humiliated. They had known just which buttons to push to make her feel helpless, and worthless. Just like he had.
Tears welled behind Hermione's closed eyelids, but she refused to let them go any further. Crying over the acts of that man was the way of a child.
No, she would simply find a way for him to never do that again.
***
Snape strolled slowly back to his rooms, feeling strangely satisfied. It had never been his intention to hurt Miss Granger, but he had to admit that he was gratified by her childish anger. It was not often he was able to prompt such a strong response from someone usually so adult, so quiet.
Snape did not consider himself a bully. He knew that taking pleasure in others' humiliation was perhaps the act of one, but his intention had never been to humiliate the girl. At least, not much. He had wanted more to irritate her, just as she irritated him by her indignation and lenience. Five points and a smile was not even a subtle reprimand, and was no deterrent to those two students. Roaming at night, even within the well- protected halls of Hogwarts, was simply not safe, especially now. It angered him that the girl he whose name had been used in the staffroom for seven years as an epitome of intelligence and maturity should have no awareness of the dangers of these times. But perhaps it shouldn't have surprised him- she had been, after all, involved in almost every scrap that Potter and Weasley had been in during their years at Hogwarts, escapades which had endangered theirs and others lives. It shouldn't be surprising that the child was still soft-hearted.
She was no longer a child, however, as she had pointed out. It was annoying how these things changed. He would have brought up the issue of employing ex-students with Albus but the old wizard would surely have given him one of those Looks, and Snape always got a headache from those Looks. Besides, the headmaster would bring up the all-too apt point that most of the teachers were ex-students anyway, and ignore Snape's point entirely, and if Snape tried to explain at all Dumbledore would give him another type of look which would say plainer than words that he knew Snape disliked change, and that change was what the world was all about, and that Snape would just have to get used to it as part of his, Dumbledore's, Let's-Get- Severus-Out-Of-His-Shell exercise.
No, Hermione Granger was now a grown woman. The problem was, for a grown woman, she certainly acted like a child. The thoughts of a child- yes! She still jumped to conclusions, still obeyed that stupid, unswerving loyalty. Just like the night she had raised her wand to him in defence of Sirius Black. He had to admit now that, perhaps, she had prevented him from injuring an innocent man, but she had had no call to do so. And Black had got away. Perhaps the man hadn't killed Potter's parents; Snape didn't really care. Snape knew what Black was, and that was a certain type of creature that would always be dangerous to his fellow man, perhaps because of his own Gryffindor stupidity. Just like Granger.
Snape eased himself to lay back on his bed. well, perhaps he had taught the Granger girl a lesson tonight. He hoped so. Not just for his own pleasure, the pleasure of being avenged for her impudence. No. The girl had too much heart. She had to learn to ignore it, or she wouldn't survive too well in these times.
Snape sighed, and with a word dispelled the lights floating around the room. With open eyes he tried to get some sleep.
***
The next morning, Hermione decided not to have breakfast with Ailie, as she occasionally did. She wanted to have breakfast with Ailie. It would be a pleasant start to the day. But she decided against it, simply because she wanted to so much. It would mean that she was avoiding Severus Snape, and that was a move of which she didn't want to make a habit.
With squared shoulders, she entered the hall, nearly groaned when she saw that her seat would be directly opposite Snape's, and calmly walked over to sit. She smiled at her companions, accepted the tea-pot and began her meal as best she could. It was difficult, considering her appetite had fled as soon as she had seen Snape. She felt almost as she had done whilst in school, waiting for Snape to punish her for something she had done. Anxiously, Hermione looked up, expecting to see him glaring at her as he had done last night. He wasn't. He was performing his usual breakfast motions, sipping at his tea and ignoring his food. He wasn't even aware she was there.
Hermione cursed herself for her foolishness. Of course he hadn't noticed. To him, last night had been yet another punishment of a recalcitrant student. It wouldn't even have been an extreme punishment. He probably didn't even remember what he had done.
A blush crept over Hermione's cheeks, and she bit the inside of her cheek. Damn him! How could his behaviour of last night still affect her this morning? Even now, he was making her aware of just how childish and unimportant she was.
As she helped organise the children to be transported to the train, Hermione found herself dwelling on the incident. The Slytherins were at their worst, not listening to anything she said, trying to play last tricks and last insults on their fellow students. By lunchtime, Hermione felt drained, and ever more angry at Snape and his favouritism.
Stomping her way to her rooms, Hermione couldn't get past the unfairness of it all. Severus Snape had always favoured his house. In every aspect of school life Slytherins acted as though they had the right to rule over everyone else, and all because of that man. Because of his attitude to his precious Slytherins, everyone else had to suffer, had to be wary of those wearing silver and green simply because they would do anything they wished. Draco Malfoy was a case in point- by the time he had hit fifteen, no girl would risk being alone with him, especially not the little ones. Luckily, the boy had grown up a little before they graduated, otherwise Ron would have beaten seven kinds of hell out of him on graduation day.
'Aargh!' Hermione let out an unladylike snort, and tossed some floo powder into the fireplace, calling Ailie's name. After a second, there was a knock on the door, and Hermione opened it to see her friend outside. She smiled.
'You can come in through the fireplace, you know,' she said.
Ailie shuddered. 'No, thank you. The last time was bad enough.' The trip through the floo system to her rooms that first time had been a rather traumatic experience for the Wiccan, and one she had no wish to repeat.
'I was wondering if you would like to have lunch with me,' Hermione asked, leading the way to some arm-chairs.
Ailie nodded. She and Hermione often shared meals; it was something to break up the tedium of being trapped in her rooms all day. Her seclusion was set to cease that evening, however, when her 'arrival' would be announced before dinner, and the two 'cousins' would have their reunion.
The food was quickly set out on Hermione's table, sent there by a flick of Hermione's wand that never ceased to amaze Ailie. Hermione had never quite got over her revulsion of the enslavement of house-elves, but food preparation was the one area where she gave way.
As she sipped at her chicken broth, Ailie noted how distracted her friend was. Hermione almost ignored her food, instead playing anxiously with her napkin. Not one to wait for an explanation, Ailie set down her spoon, and eyed her friend.
'Okay. What's wrong?'
'Um.' Hermione put down her napkin and looked her friend in the eye. 'Well, last night I had an idea about what to do about your problem with Professor Snape. Not the revenge problem,' she said quickly, seeing the eager look on Ailie's face. 'I thought perhaps there might be a way to control how much he gets to you. Maybe some sort of meditation.' Ailie nodded.
'I've been considering that. I mean, usually what is required for absolute self-knowledge is quite a while in a trance, with others to help. But I've been so different lately... I didn't think I could achieve that.'
Hermione's brow furrowed. 'Perhaps. Maybe what's blocking you at the moment is the fact that his blood is a wizard's blood- maybe it's confusing your skills. We'd have to talk to Professor Dumbledore-'
Ailie cut her off. 'Is that really what's been bothering you? I had a feeling you were upset.'
Hermione sighed. 'Sorry. I got a new idea.' She shrugged, and refocussed. 'When I was going to the library, I caught two students hiding behind a statue.'
'Hiding?' Ailie was confused. Hermione blushed. She had never got over her sensitivity of such things.
'You know, meeting... privately.'
'Oh. They were having sex?'
'No!' Hermione's blush became a flame on her skin. 'They were only third years!'
The girl across from her shrugged. 'Where I come from, you begin to have sex when you feel you want to. There's no rule that tells you when you're ready.'
Hermione shot her a serious look. 'They were kissing.'
'Oh. So?'
'Well, I've explained before that students aren't allowed out of the dormitories after curfew. Hogwarts can be a dangerous place at night. So I decided to scare them. I sneaked up on them and said 'boo.''
''Boo'?'
Hermione smiled. Sometimes the cultural gap between herself and her friend was surprising. 'Yes. It's a word that is used to startle someone. Usually said by ghosts, who sneak up to scare people.'
'Okay.'
'Well, I took five points each from them and was just abbot to send them on their way when Snape snuck up on me.'
'Pah.'
'Yes.' Hermione got up and began to pace the room, her anger returning. 'He's just so irritating! He wouldn't let me take the points from the children- he did it instead, and took twenty instead of five. Then he ordered me to go to bed!' Ailie raised an eyebrow, and Hermione ran her hands through her hair. 'Well, I tried to tell him that I was a teacher too, now, and that he couldn't do that, but he just ignored me! He followed me all the way to the library and stared at me while I worked- for two hours!' Ailie again raised her eyebrow. Interesting, that.
Hermione walked over to the fireplace, and leant on the mantelpiece. 'I got hardly any work done, and he insisted on walking me to my rooms. So I played a trick on him, and then he called me a child, and took me to my room anyway, and this morning he acted as though nothing had happened!'
With a frustrated noise, Hermione sat heavily on the couch, picking up a cushion to play with. 'I just wish he would treat me as a human being. He goes around favouring all of his horrid students, and then accuses me of favouritism! I just wish I could- could make him feel that way, somehow.'
Ailie moved to sit beside her friend. 'This is why you need to help me get him back, Herm. That overstuffed ape need to be taught a lesson.'
'But how?' Hermione turned hopeless eyes to Ailie. 'He's a very intelligent man, Ailie. He'd know if we were up to something, and he's able to detect all poisons- though we couldn't do that, of course-' A light dawned in Hermione's eyes. 'Wait! What would you say Snape hates most of all?'
'Apart from me?' Ailie frowned. 'I don't know. I hardly know the man, Hermione.'
'But you're linked. You must be able to tell something- you've been acting like him all week.'
'Well...' Ailie considered. In the past week, she had definitely not been herself, and there was only one other person she could have been. She thought back on all the odd things she had done. 'He hates warmth, had doesn't like to talk, and he doesn't like sweets. I never get annoyed by people laughing, but I think he does. I think he just hates everything nice.'
'Exactly.' Hermione smiled to herself. 'He hates everything that's good- everything that would make a normal person happy. In fact, he'd probably hate it if he was happy. It's brilliant!' Hermione caught the eye of her puzzled friend, and explained, 'we can't do anything to harm him, because that is wrong. I mean, we might want to, but we can't physically harm him. And we can't do anything to torture him, either, for the same reason. We're bound by law. But no-one can do anything to us if we do something to make him happy.'
'I don't want to make him happy. He is a-' Ailie trailed off in Gaelic, and Hermione waited for her to finish.
'But it won't make him happy, Ailie, don't you see?' Hermione got up and began to fish through her bookcase. 'Now... no, not that one. Which one did I see it in? I'd forgotten about that, but we wouldn't need to go that far...'
Ailie waited patiently for her friend to come back. It was not the first time that Hermione had gone off into her own little world, while pursuing an idea, and Ailie knew it would be explained in time.
'Here! Excellent.' Hermione flourished a red-bound book. It was quite thin, out-of-place in Hermione's collection of great tomes.
'Molly Weasley gave me this one Christmas. My friend Ron's mum,' she explained briefly, as she sat down. 'Now...' Quickly, Hermione leafed through the book, pausing here and there to consider a spell. 'I think one of these will do.' She bookmarked the pages, and turned to Ailie.
'If Snape hates things that usually make people happy, all we have to do to torture him is make him experience them. This book is full of comforting spells, spells that give you good dreams, potions to reveal your innermost desires, all that kind of stuff.' She smiled. 'Fairly useful for a teenage girl.'
'So what will we do?'
'Well, we will just choose a spell that will irritate him through pleasure. There's a potion here-' Hermione showed Ailie one of the bookmarked pages- 'that will make him feel generally happy all day, which I think will annoy him no end.'
'What about the other page?'
'That one's a little harsher. It's a dream potion. It would make him have a very lucid dream. It doesn't really explain the effects that well, so I thought the other potion would be a bit better.'
Knowing her friend's soft heart, Ailie reached for the book. 'I'll just have a quick look at that one, if you don't mind.'
Hermione waited patiently while her friend examined the spell, watching a slow smile creep across the girl's face.
'Oh, yes. We must do this one, Herm. The other one just isn't enough.'
Hermione shook her head. 'I can't do that. It's too much- we'll get in trouble.'
Ailie gave her an assessing look, rather like that which Snape had been giving her the night before. It made Hermione shiver. 'Hermione, you have to get over this concept that you are a defenceless little schoolgirl here. You are a grown woman, and a teacher in this school. If you want to play a trick on Snape, I'm sure no one will think the worse of you for it.'
'Ailie,' Hermione began. Her friend's voice had been to much like Snape's, and had had the effect of a slap in the face. 'It is precisely because I am a teacher here that I can't allow this. I'm supposed to be behaving like a responsible adult. I can't believe I even considered this.' She got up and paced the room. 'I'm doing exactly what Snape accused me of.'
Ailie watched her friend pace, and sighed. She had been so close to a good plan. Perhaps she still was. Wisely, the Wiccan decided to let the subject lie- for now.
***
The feeling of reserve that had sprung up between the two girls quickly faded as Ailie made her appearance in Hogwarts for the first official time. Hermione introduced her to the rest of the staff before dinner, acting like a delighted cousin, and soon the part took over. She found it difficult to stay angry at Ailie for long.
Dinner went well, especially because Snape was absent from it. Hermione was delighted with Ailie's reception, and her earliest fears that playing her cousin would put a strain on their friendship were shown to be unfounded, as the other girl showed every appearance of being able to take care of herself.
As the dinner ended, Hermione decided that it would be a good time to continue researching ways to help Ailie. The other girl seemed able to take care of herself, although at times she was all too silent for Hermione's liking. The sooner they found a way to control these Snapish moods, the better.
As she walked down the moonlit corridor, Hermione smiled. It would soon be Christmas, and she had a promise from Harry that he would visit with her. She would have to visit her parents, of course, but that could be done by floo. In fact, considering the fact that Ailie would be here also, it wouldn't be a bad idea for them to come to her for once- they could even have a real Christmas dinner in her rooms...
These pleasant thoughts were interrupted by an annoyed cough. Hermione looked up to see Snape, not a metre away from her. Well, it served him right to feel ignored, for once.
She made to move on, but Snape stopped her with a hand on her arm.
'Miss Granger, I believe we discussed last night that the two students caught in the corridors would be punished according to my guidelines?'
You can believe whatever you like, Hermione thought stubbornly, but merely put on a look of polite concern. 'Yes?'
'I will take that as an agreement. Why, then, may I ask were the two students' houses awarded an unaccounted for fifteen points, each, this morning?'
Hermione considered a moment. He has no power over me, I can do anything I wish, without his permission. 'I believe the two students may have done something to deserve those points, Professor.'
'You believe,' Snape sneered. 'You believe wrongly. In fact, I would go so far as to say that you just lied. I would say that those students were awarded points for nothing at all.'
'What an interesting theory. Now, if you will excuse me-'
Snape's hold on her arm tightened. 'No, I don't believe I will, Miss Granger. Why did you disobey my orders?'
'You can't give me orders,' Hermione whispered, a part of her terrified at her own daring.
'What?'
Hermione summoned up the anger of the night before. He can't do this to you, Hermione. You're not his student, not any more. 'I said you can't give me orders, Professor Snape. Did your hearing fail you?'
Snape sneered. 'No. Perhaps I was expecting too much that a mere child would be able to recognise when one of her superiors was attempting to educate her on proper punishment for recalcitrant pupils.'
'Superiors?' Hermione snorted, then bit her lip when Snape's hold tightened even more. 'I was on my way to the library, Professor Snape, if you would be so kind as to let me go.'
Without a word, Snape released her, so quickly that he almost pushed her over. Hermione continued on her way with as much speed as she could manage without running.
Only when she neared the haven of the library did she realise that Snape was following her again. Irritated, she turned to face him.
'I have no need of your protection, Professor. You may go.'
'Now who is giving the orders?' One ebony eyebrow raised mockingly.
'I wasn't giving you an order,' Hermione sighed with frustration. 'I merely want to be able to study in peace, without you looming over me like an overgrown bat!' At this, Hermione thought she saw a spark of amusement deep within his black eyes. It was gone too quickly to tell.
'This is a school, Miss Granger, in which we are both members of staff. It is not just you who might wish to make use of the library.'
Hermione might have blushed, had she not known that his words were a ruse. He had been heading in the opposite direction when they had come across each other.
She turned and entered the library, determined to ignore him, a plan which worked for ten seconds or so. Though they sat at different tables, Hermione felt Snape's presence as though he was sitting in front of her. Every time she looked up, that basilisk stare confronted hers.
'Snape, if you have nothing to do, you may leave. Or you could help me with my research.' Irritated beyond reason, Hermione was past fear. Having a screaming match with the man would be better than this quiet torture.
'My name is Professor Snape, Miss Granger, and I can assure you I have no interest in whatever you are doing.' Snape leant back on his chair, looking down the strong line of his nose at her.
Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. She had graduated a year and a half ago, and the man still wanted her to call him professor. Even the headmaster had insisted that she call him Albus, though she had yet to do so, feeling uncomfortable at the prospect. But it was a sign of mutual respect, one that Snape was obviously too petty to offer.
'Of course you don't have an interest. You don't have an interest in anything. No, of course you wouldn't care that I'm currently researching some way for you and Ailie to get out of this mess you put her in.'
'I put that girl nowhere, Miss Granger, aside from in a safe place. And I can assure you, child, I would be able to find a cure for this 'mess', as you call it, without your... inestimable faculties.' Snape put such an emphasis on the word 'inestimable' as to make it an euphemism.
It was too much. 'My name is Hermione Granger. Not 'Miss Granger', not even just 'child'. My name is Hermione.' Hermione glared at Snape, angered further by his lack of reaction. That he could be so utterly bloodless was the most frustrating aspect of all- he batted her down with a cruel word, yet didn't seem to care about the reaction he elicited. At least a real villain cared enough to want to wound their victim- Snape didn't seem to even notice.
Hermione decided it was time to see how far his uncaring attitude would go. 'I am a member of staff in this school, and therefore apt to call you whatever I want, Snape! No detentions for me if I call you a heartless old hermit, or tell you to shove your perfect potions advice where the sun doesn't shine. When will you get that into your thick skull!' Hermione stood, putting her hands on her hips.
'I just can't believe your arrogance. Perhaps maybe I should, after seven years of it, but somehow I thought that perhaps, maybe, behind that exterior of disdain, bias and sheer bloody-mindedness you would turn out to be half as intelligent as I thought you would be!'
'Intelligence?' Snape looked her up and down with that darkly assessing gaze of his, and sneered. 'Had I but known your utter lack of it then your position at this school might never have occurred. That a girl so reputedly astute could discover two students in the middle of the night-'
'Oh, get over it.' Hermione walked around the table, advancing on the shadowy figure in front of her. 'Believe it or not, Snape, your ideas for punishments are more apt to cause students to break the rules, rather than follow them, just to spite you. You have absolutely no idea of how the students of this school think. When I think of all the times Harry and Ron and I did something, just for the knowledge that you would hate it... All students react that way to you. I don't believe you care.' Hermione ran her hands through her hair, and glared at him. 'You glory in not caring about anything, pushing buttons for the fun of it. You play with the lives of children, Snape. Your absurd favouritism of your sappy little Slytherins has led to that house producing the most malignant, pathetic and inhuman graduates around today, and yet you accuse me of favouritism! Hah!' Her laugh was without humour. Snape was now glaring at her, but Hermione could not stop the flow of thoughts she had kept safely guarded for seven long years.
She sat on the table nearest Snape, and looked into his eyes. 'Your hypocrisy is astounding, and you don't seem to care who notices it. Or could it be that you don't even notice what a hypocrite you are?'
Snape rose before her, and Hermione almost gasped. A look was on his face that Hermione had never seen before, not even when she had tied him up in her third year.
Dark eyes looked down at her, fathomless. 'Hypocrite?' Snape smiled evilly. 'You wish to talk about double-standards, Miss Granger? Your idiotic Gryffindor loyalty has long prevented you from seeing how truly incompetent many of your house are. That you would hang about with Potter and Weasley, letting them steal from your essays, letting them cheat from your papers, and you criticise me for producing pathetic human specimens? You practically gave birth to their incompetence. Why, compared to the likes of Longbottom, with whom you spent almost your entire potions career, the graduates of Slytherin House-'
Hermione stood, facing him down. She felt as though she had been slapped. 'Don't you dare insult my friends! Compared to the students in your house, they're damned near saints! And don't you dare use the behaviour of others to excuse that of those you trained. The Slytherins in my year were the most disgusting, insulting, twisted people I've ever met.' She gave Snape a look of disgust. 'Behaviour. Harry and Ron may have cheated off my work once in a while, but in Slytherin, that was accepted form! Draco Malfoy barely managed to scrape up some dregs of human feeling by the time he left, despite the monster you wanted him to be. And Crabbe and Goyle were damned near rapists!'
Snape shot her a look filled with pure hate, but Hermione withstood it. 'Your pathetic little Gryffindor defence is useless against me, Miss Granger. Be assured, though I have done things I regret in the past, not one occurred after the time you were five.'
'Well, that just shows how truly sad your case is, doesn't it,' said Hermione, slowly coming down from her fountain of anger.
Snape, sensing that her tone held pity, sneered once more. 'Soft- hearted infant.'
'I am not an infant, Snape, and I will not tolerate being treated like one. You may have been able to play out your sick little torture games on me when I was in your classes, but it will happen no more. I am no longer under your control. And I am no child.'
Snape let his gaze wander over her, making Hermione feel ill at ease. When he looked back at her, his eyes showed distaste.
'No, you're not.' His tone clearly implied that, grown woman or child, there was nothing in front of him to interest him.
Hermione swallowed, aware that she was in deep water. 'Good night, Snape.' She turned with as much dignity as she could muster, before she gave in to the urge to slap him.
On her way to the door, she realised belatedly that they had had an audience. In fact, many of the staff stood crowded around the open library door, Dumbledore among them. Her cheeks flamed, but she carried on throughout the door.
None of the other professors said a word, but as she passed McGonagall, the older woman slipped her arm through Hermione's, and began to walk beside her.
'I've been wanting to tell him off like that for years,' the old witch said, a smile in her voice. 'Sappy little Slytherins, indeed. I would have said far worse, and still been on the mark.'
Hermione looked down as they continued walking, The enormity of what she had just done was beginning to sink in. 'Oh, my God.'
McGonagall patted her arm. 'I wouldn't worry about it too much, Hermione. Severus Snape is an irritable old bat, and gets told off for it far less often than he needs to. He probably enjoyed it.'
Hermione looked at her old transfiguration professor, and seriously doubted her words. The only thing Snape would enjoy where she was concerned would be her departure from the school in disgrace, she was sure.