Disclaimer: Rabbit, rabbit, who's got the chicken. Disclaimers are silly,
and so is this 'un.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It was a surprise to Hermione when she woke up and saw that Snape was asleep. Somehow, she didn't imagine that the man ever slept. He seemed too... controlled for sleep. Maybe she had hoped that he would be too tortured by nightmares.
She shook her head at the thought. In some ways, he was right, she berated herself. Not in every sense, but there were times when 'infant' was an appropriate label for her. What, exactly, did she expect? Did she really, somewhere deep down in her little mind, imagine that the dark potions master spent his nights torturing himself over past deeds, repenting and repenting again, the everlasting hero? That was really how she was the child. She was waiting for his white horse to show up.
She sighed and rubbed her forehead. She wondered if there ever would come a time when she didn't think in fairytales.
Across from her, Snape's eyes snapped open. Startlement transformed into a sneer under her gaze.
'Something interesting, Granger?' he asked. Hermione sat up. If she ever needed a reminder that he was no hero, Snape was sure to provide her with one.
'Absolutely nothing is interesting, Snape,' she said, turning away.
Snape's eyes narrowed at her, but she ignored it. 'Have you thought of a way out of here yet?'
Behind her, Snape shook his head. 'Miss Granger,' he began, derision firmly implanted in his tone, 'if you had not got us into this situation in the first place, I would not be required to find a solution.'
Hermione didn't bother to hide the disdain on her face as she turned back around.
'Enough,' she said, glaring at him. 'Let's get this out of the way, shall we? I am plainly the one responsible for our predicament, or at least as you see it. Now, you, poor put-upon Snape, have to somehow put your undoubtedly immense mind power to get us out of it, because I, despite graduating the top of my class with a mark three points higher than your own- I checked- am completely incompetent compared to your massive intellect. All of this is my fault, just like everything else, despite the fact that I am just a filthy little mudblood wh-'
'Stop now, infant, before you say something you might regret.' Snape folded his arms over his chest. 'As ever, I see that you have failed to check your information before spouting off like the Gryffindor you are. I am so unendurably *tired* of your constant need for care and reassurance!' His fists clenched at his sides as he glared at her. 'Do you honestly expect me to pamper you with empty compliment, like everyone around you has ever done, Hermione? I apologise, but for someone to receive compliment from me, they actually have to earn it. I am not your- your keeper! Neither am I one to tolerate such a needy tendency such as your academic career seems to have been formed in!'
The words cut deeply, as he intended, and Hermione had to restrain herself from hitting back physically. 'Damn you, Snape. You have no idea how my mind works because you've never bothered to bloody well observe it. You- you-'
Snape sneered at her. 'Go on,' he taunted disdainfully.
'You-' Words failing her, Hermione descended into a few choice Gaelic phrases that she had heard Ailie using. They seemed the most appropriate.
Snape laughed at her. 'Still couldn't find the grown-up words, could you? Ever the appropriate little girl. Oh, Minerva, if only you could see your perfect little favourite now.'
Instinctively, Hermione reached for her wand and pointed it at him. She just had time to register the snarl on his face before she launched a curse at him. As soon as she did, however, she was stunned: Snape's limbs clamped together and his mouth clamped shut, just as the curse commanded.
The two looked at each other in surprise for a moment, before Hermione decided to try another spell, just in case that one was a fluke. A cushion behind Snape turned from fuschia pink to blue. Her eyes widened.
'Miss Granger,' Snape said, his voice muffled from having to speak from curse-clenched teeth, 'are you trying to tell me that your wand has worked all along?' Hermione glared at him.
'Did you really think I spent an hour walking around this room without testing to see if my wand could get me out of it? I don't trust you quite that much, Snape,' she sneered. 'It didn't work on the walls, so I assumed it worked as little as yours did.'
Hermione paced back and forth several times, trying to get her head into order. Determinedly, she pushed aside the fury from the recently ended argument, striving for focus. Her wand worked. It may not have the ability to release them from this chamber, but it worked. Quickly, she cast a few measurement spells, attempting to determine the strength of magic used in the room. Her business prevented her from seeing the approving look in Snape's eyes.
It wasn't difficult to determine that, while the room was surrounded by magic, there were no spells operative in the room itself. Hermione sighed in relief. It was unlikely that they were being observed- there simply would have been some sign.
First things first. A few counter-spells showed that there were no invisible doorways or any simple sort of locking spells on the room. With a frown, Hermione tried out every counter-curse she knew that was pertinent to imprisonment. None of them worked. It wasn't less than she expected, but at least she knew for certain that this was no ordinary room.
Needing to think, Hermione quickly transfigured a few of the pillows into quills and parchment, and cleared herself a stable space on the seat in the middle of the room. Notes, she needed to make some notes, sort her thoughts out...
After a few minutes, a cough alerted her to the fact that Snape was still bound by her curse, and looking rather uncomfortable. Looking up, Hermione sighed and released him with a wave of her wand, paying him no further attention as she turned back to her notes.
It was a relief to be lost in the world of words once more, to escape, at least mentally. By the time she had finished, she had noted down all the peculiarities of the room, and anything else she could think of. The stark facts of the situation were easier to comprehend when put in an orderly list like this; the use of the milk jug as some kind of portkey, the room's apparent imperviousness to magic, the fact that Snape's wand was disabled while hers was not. At the end of the list, Hermione jotted down any familiar elements to the situation, any enchantments she knew of that could have caused it.
Another cough and the appearance of two pale feet in front of her alerted her to the fact that Snape, apparently, was bored.
'Yes?' she said, looking up.
'Some parchment and a quill, if you please,' he commanded, raising an eyebrow.
Hermione felt a bitter taste in her mouth as she frowned up at him. 'Sorry to disappoint you, but I think I can handle this by my needy self.'
Snape sighed. 'Miss Granger, as loathe as we both are to admit it, we are in this together. We will have to, unfortunately, work together.'
Hermione closed her eyes for a second in irritation, then quickly transfigured some more parchment and writing implements for him to use. She set them on the floor and returned to her work, ignoring him once more.
The two worked in silence for a while before another discreet cough sounded from Snape's direction, and Hermione looked up once more. She was pleased to note that he looked distinctly uncomfortable.
'I trust that you have performed detector charms,' he said with a slight grimace. 'I would like to look at the results. If- you would be so kind,' he added, the words coming out with all the ease of a rusted hinge opening. Silently, Hermione replicated her notes and handed them over the centre seat. Snape nodded his thanks, settling down to read them while leaning against the seat.
After a while, the scribblings on his notes caught Hermione's eye, and she looked up at him.
'Would you mind if I had a look?' she asked quietly. Snape silently handed the pages over, and Hermione flicked through them with a frown of concentration. As she finished reading them, she began to muse out loud. A thought struck her.
'You said before that we had to work together,' she said, the half- formed thought spoken more to herself than to him. Snape looked up. 'Wasn't Dumbledore saying that to us, just- well, it must be yesterday, now?'
A spark of interest flashed through Snape's eyes. 'I had considered the possibility that some- members of the Hogwarts staff may have put us in this position, yes,' he answered. Something about his tone and the way he looked made Hermione look behind her, to the plush cushions of the seat behind her. They certainly were opulent, for a jail cell. And their costumes- Snape seemed uneasy about them when he had said that- something about their mode of dress, the cushions, the room...
The realisation made her grin to herself. 'Oh no,' she said, without thinking. 'They can't think that I'll have sex with you in this room. It's just too pink.' Horrified, she flashed a look at Snape as a blush worked its steady way up her cheeks. She was disturbed to see a thoughtful look in his eye.
'Too pink?' he asked.
'Yes, well...' Hermione coughed, not liking the way the conversation was going. It was difficult to think about what he really thought of her, as stated in that horrible letter, when they were working together so companionably. 'Pink- it's not really the best colour.'
Snape nodded, and, as if sensing her discomfort, turned back to his notes.
To distract herself, Hermione looked once more around the room. Tea, they needed tea. It was a great way to clear thoughts. Though it was impossible to simply conjure some out of the air- it took a great amount of energy and concentration to create something so complex out of nothing- she could transfigure the ingredients from their surroundings and brew some. Quickly, she got up and busied herself around the room, conjuring a small fire and setting about preparations. After a while, Snape looked up to watch her, his expression distant. Thinking perhaps he was mulling over their problem, Hermione simply set the tea things on the seat they were both using as a desk, pouring out two mugs and placing one in front of him.
He stared at it a moment. 'How domestic.' Almost the instant he said it, however, he looked up and shook his head in apology. 'Sorry. Thank you.'
Nonplussed by the strange situation, Hermione merely nodded and sipped her tea.
Silence again flowed between them, though this time it was not as filled with anger as before. Hermione frowned in concentration as she looked over her notes. There was something here, just out of reach of her mind. The underwire of her bra dug into her side as she shifted position, and unthinkingly, she transfigured it into a more comfortable one. She noticed her arms felt cold, so she changed the strange vest into a comfy sweater, and turned the trousers into something far more suitable; nights of studying in cold rooms without time to spare had got her into the habit of simply transfiguring her clothes to suit, and she did it unthinkingly. After a few minutes, however, she felt Snape's gaze on her, and looked up. He was staring at her, eyes wide.
'How did you do that?' he asked.
'What?' she said, following his eyes down to her clothes. 'Oh, this, Transfiguration. It's a form of magic, remember?'
'Good.' He stood, and indicated his own clothes with a look. Hermione ignored him, and turned back to her work.
'Miss Granger,' Snape said, his voice dangerously low. Smiling, Hermione continued to ignore him, even as he walked around the seat to step closer. The situation was funny, really. Why not enjoy his discomfort? By the time his feet got in her range of peripheral vision, she could almost taste the irritation radiating from him. Finally, she looked up.
Snape glared down at her. 'Miss Granger,' he said, 'de-robe me *now*.'
Hermione looked up at him for a second before bursting into laughter. She was pleasantly surprised to see that a hint of a blush tinged his pale cheeks before he stormed off to the other side of the room.
'Why, Professor Snape, you only had to ask,' she gasped, in between giggles. Oh, if only Harry and Ron could have heard that.
Seeing his real discomfort as she calmed down, Hermione shrugged and threw a transfiguration charm at his back, turning the ludicrous outfit into his usual black robes. It wasn't as though she liked the other outfit, anyway.
Snape turned back around, his face impassive. 'Thank you,' he said.
***
At the end of the day, a lot of notes had been made, and they were no closer to finding a solution to their problem. Hermione felt as though she was living in a void. The hours passed by slowly, accompanied with the change of light she was used to in the outside world, but there were no windows for it to possibly show through. How could there be such a change without a source of light? She had mentioned it to Snape, but he had no idea, either.
Another factor was food. It seemed as though they both got tired in the usual way, but never thirsty or hungry. Even drinking the tea had been strange, more of a sensation in her head than in her stomach.
By the time it got dark, habit dictated sleep. The light from Hermione's wand was not enough for the both of them to work by, and besides, there was nothing left for them to work on. Hermione felt that they had all the facts, but there was something essential missing. This was all too familiar.
When she yawned, Snape suggested that they get some sleep. They crept onto their opposite sides of the room, and Hermione turned out the light. She wondered how many hours it would be until dawn arrived, feeling that she would possibly see every one of them.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. You're all wonderful and I love you. Just a few replies- Kiki-0303: Yes, Hermione is offensive. I did it on purpose and never fear, she's going to feel terrible soon enough. (Besides, she's 19. 19-year-olds do say a lot of crap sometimes). Snakecharmer: Thank you for reviewing even when you were tired. I really do appreciate it! HeavenStone: The setting's colours irritated me, too, but they were supposed to. The reason for it all is on its way. SlytherinQueen87: Yes, I thought it was funny picturing Snape stuck in a pink room. I can't imagine a worse torture, myself. Meow, Dawn and Usuu Bishouji: Thank you for reviewing and for all the compliments. I don't deserve them, but I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It was a surprise to Hermione when she woke up and saw that Snape was asleep. Somehow, she didn't imagine that the man ever slept. He seemed too... controlled for sleep. Maybe she had hoped that he would be too tortured by nightmares.
She shook her head at the thought. In some ways, he was right, she berated herself. Not in every sense, but there were times when 'infant' was an appropriate label for her. What, exactly, did she expect? Did she really, somewhere deep down in her little mind, imagine that the dark potions master spent his nights torturing himself over past deeds, repenting and repenting again, the everlasting hero? That was really how she was the child. She was waiting for his white horse to show up.
She sighed and rubbed her forehead. She wondered if there ever would come a time when she didn't think in fairytales.
Across from her, Snape's eyes snapped open. Startlement transformed into a sneer under her gaze.
'Something interesting, Granger?' he asked. Hermione sat up. If she ever needed a reminder that he was no hero, Snape was sure to provide her with one.
'Absolutely nothing is interesting, Snape,' she said, turning away.
Snape's eyes narrowed at her, but she ignored it. 'Have you thought of a way out of here yet?'
Behind her, Snape shook his head. 'Miss Granger,' he began, derision firmly implanted in his tone, 'if you had not got us into this situation in the first place, I would not be required to find a solution.'
Hermione didn't bother to hide the disdain on her face as she turned back around.
'Enough,' she said, glaring at him. 'Let's get this out of the way, shall we? I am plainly the one responsible for our predicament, or at least as you see it. Now, you, poor put-upon Snape, have to somehow put your undoubtedly immense mind power to get us out of it, because I, despite graduating the top of my class with a mark three points higher than your own- I checked- am completely incompetent compared to your massive intellect. All of this is my fault, just like everything else, despite the fact that I am just a filthy little mudblood wh-'
'Stop now, infant, before you say something you might regret.' Snape folded his arms over his chest. 'As ever, I see that you have failed to check your information before spouting off like the Gryffindor you are. I am so unendurably *tired* of your constant need for care and reassurance!' His fists clenched at his sides as he glared at her. 'Do you honestly expect me to pamper you with empty compliment, like everyone around you has ever done, Hermione? I apologise, but for someone to receive compliment from me, they actually have to earn it. I am not your- your keeper! Neither am I one to tolerate such a needy tendency such as your academic career seems to have been formed in!'
The words cut deeply, as he intended, and Hermione had to restrain herself from hitting back physically. 'Damn you, Snape. You have no idea how my mind works because you've never bothered to bloody well observe it. You- you-'
Snape sneered at her. 'Go on,' he taunted disdainfully.
'You-' Words failing her, Hermione descended into a few choice Gaelic phrases that she had heard Ailie using. They seemed the most appropriate.
Snape laughed at her. 'Still couldn't find the grown-up words, could you? Ever the appropriate little girl. Oh, Minerva, if only you could see your perfect little favourite now.'
Instinctively, Hermione reached for her wand and pointed it at him. She just had time to register the snarl on his face before she launched a curse at him. As soon as she did, however, she was stunned: Snape's limbs clamped together and his mouth clamped shut, just as the curse commanded.
The two looked at each other in surprise for a moment, before Hermione decided to try another spell, just in case that one was a fluke. A cushion behind Snape turned from fuschia pink to blue. Her eyes widened.
'Miss Granger,' Snape said, his voice muffled from having to speak from curse-clenched teeth, 'are you trying to tell me that your wand has worked all along?' Hermione glared at him.
'Did you really think I spent an hour walking around this room without testing to see if my wand could get me out of it? I don't trust you quite that much, Snape,' she sneered. 'It didn't work on the walls, so I assumed it worked as little as yours did.'
Hermione paced back and forth several times, trying to get her head into order. Determinedly, she pushed aside the fury from the recently ended argument, striving for focus. Her wand worked. It may not have the ability to release them from this chamber, but it worked. Quickly, she cast a few measurement spells, attempting to determine the strength of magic used in the room. Her business prevented her from seeing the approving look in Snape's eyes.
It wasn't difficult to determine that, while the room was surrounded by magic, there were no spells operative in the room itself. Hermione sighed in relief. It was unlikely that they were being observed- there simply would have been some sign.
First things first. A few counter-spells showed that there were no invisible doorways or any simple sort of locking spells on the room. With a frown, Hermione tried out every counter-curse she knew that was pertinent to imprisonment. None of them worked. It wasn't less than she expected, but at least she knew for certain that this was no ordinary room.
Needing to think, Hermione quickly transfigured a few of the pillows into quills and parchment, and cleared herself a stable space on the seat in the middle of the room. Notes, she needed to make some notes, sort her thoughts out...
After a few minutes, a cough alerted her to the fact that Snape was still bound by her curse, and looking rather uncomfortable. Looking up, Hermione sighed and released him with a wave of her wand, paying him no further attention as she turned back to her notes.
It was a relief to be lost in the world of words once more, to escape, at least mentally. By the time she had finished, she had noted down all the peculiarities of the room, and anything else she could think of. The stark facts of the situation were easier to comprehend when put in an orderly list like this; the use of the milk jug as some kind of portkey, the room's apparent imperviousness to magic, the fact that Snape's wand was disabled while hers was not. At the end of the list, Hermione jotted down any familiar elements to the situation, any enchantments she knew of that could have caused it.
Another cough and the appearance of two pale feet in front of her alerted her to the fact that Snape, apparently, was bored.
'Yes?' she said, looking up.
'Some parchment and a quill, if you please,' he commanded, raising an eyebrow.
Hermione felt a bitter taste in her mouth as she frowned up at him. 'Sorry to disappoint you, but I think I can handle this by my needy self.'
Snape sighed. 'Miss Granger, as loathe as we both are to admit it, we are in this together. We will have to, unfortunately, work together.'
Hermione closed her eyes for a second in irritation, then quickly transfigured some more parchment and writing implements for him to use. She set them on the floor and returned to her work, ignoring him once more.
The two worked in silence for a while before another discreet cough sounded from Snape's direction, and Hermione looked up once more. She was pleased to note that he looked distinctly uncomfortable.
'I trust that you have performed detector charms,' he said with a slight grimace. 'I would like to look at the results. If- you would be so kind,' he added, the words coming out with all the ease of a rusted hinge opening. Silently, Hermione replicated her notes and handed them over the centre seat. Snape nodded his thanks, settling down to read them while leaning against the seat.
After a while, the scribblings on his notes caught Hermione's eye, and she looked up at him.
'Would you mind if I had a look?' she asked quietly. Snape silently handed the pages over, and Hermione flicked through them with a frown of concentration. As she finished reading them, she began to muse out loud. A thought struck her.
'You said before that we had to work together,' she said, the half- formed thought spoken more to herself than to him. Snape looked up. 'Wasn't Dumbledore saying that to us, just- well, it must be yesterday, now?'
A spark of interest flashed through Snape's eyes. 'I had considered the possibility that some- members of the Hogwarts staff may have put us in this position, yes,' he answered. Something about his tone and the way he looked made Hermione look behind her, to the plush cushions of the seat behind her. They certainly were opulent, for a jail cell. And their costumes- Snape seemed uneasy about them when he had said that- something about their mode of dress, the cushions, the room...
The realisation made her grin to herself. 'Oh no,' she said, without thinking. 'They can't think that I'll have sex with you in this room. It's just too pink.' Horrified, she flashed a look at Snape as a blush worked its steady way up her cheeks. She was disturbed to see a thoughtful look in his eye.
'Too pink?' he asked.
'Yes, well...' Hermione coughed, not liking the way the conversation was going. It was difficult to think about what he really thought of her, as stated in that horrible letter, when they were working together so companionably. 'Pink- it's not really the best colour.'
Snape nodded, and, as if sensing her discomfort, turned back to his notes.
To distract herself, Hermione looked once more around the room. Tea, they needed tea. It was a great way to clear thoughts. Though it was impossible to simply conjure some out of the air- it took a great amount of energy and concentration to create something so complex out of nothing- she could transfigure the ingredients from their surroundings and brew some. Quickly, she got up and busied herself around the room, conjuring a small fire and setting about preparations. After a while, Snape looked up to watch her, his expression distant. Thinking perhaps he was mulling over their problem, Hermione simply set the tea things on the seat they were both using as a desk, pouring out two mugs and placing one in front of him.
He stared at it a moment. 'How domestic.' Almost the instant he said it, however, he looked up and shook his head in apology. 'Sorry. Thank you.'
Nonplussed by the strange situation, Hermione merely nodded and sipped her tea.
Silence again flowed between them, though this time it was not as filled with anger as before. Hermione frowned in concentration as she looked over her notes. There was something here, just out of reach of her mind. The underwire of her bra dug into her side as she shifted position, and unthinkingly, she transfigured it into a more comfortable one. She noticed her arms felt cold, so she changed the strange vest into a comfy sweater, and turned the trousers into something far more suitable; nights of studying in cold rooms without time to spare had got her into the habit of simply transfiguring her clothes to suit, and she did it unthinkingly. After a few minutes, however, she felt Snape's gaze on her, and looked up. He was staring at her, eyes wide.
'How did you do that?' he asked.
'What?' she said, following his eyes down to her clothes. 'Oh, this, Transfiguration. It's a form of magic, remember?'
'Good.' He stood, and indicated his own clothes with a look. Hermione ignored him, and turned back to her work.
'Miss Granger,' Snape said, his voice dangerously low. Smiling, Hermione continued to ignore him, even as he walked around the seat to step closer. The situation was funny, really. Why not enjoy his discomfort? By the time his feet got in her range of peripheral vision, she could almost taste the irritation radiating from him. Finally, she looked up.
Snape glared down at her. 'Miss Granger,' he said, 'de-robe me *now*.'
Hermione looked up at him for a second before bursting into laughter. She was pleasantly surprised to see that a hint of a blush tinged his pale cheeks before he stormed off to the other side of the room.
'Why, Professor Snape, you only had to ask,' she gasped, in between giggles. Oh, if only Harry and Ron could have heard that.
Seeing his real discomfort as she calmed down, Hermione shrugged and threw a transfiguration charm at his back, turning the ludicrous outfit into his usual black robes. It wasn't as though she liked the other outfit, anyway.
Snape turned back around, his face impassive. 'Thank you,' he said.
***
At the end of the day, a lot of notes had been made, and they were no closer to finding a solution to their problem. Hermione felt as though she was living in a void. The hours passed by slowly, accompanied with the change of light she was used to in the outside world, but there were no windows for it to possibly show through. How could there be such a change without a source of light? She had mentioned it to Snape, but he had no idea, either.
Another factor was food. It seemed as though they both got tired in the usual way, but never thirsty or hungry. Even drinking the tea had been strange, more of a sensation in her head than in her stomach.
By the time it got dark, habit dictated sleep. The light from Hermione's wand was not enough for the both of them to work by, and besides, there was nothing left for them to work on. Hermione felt that they had all the facts, but there was something essential missing. This was all too familiar.
When she yawned, Snape suggested that they get some sleep. They crept onto their opposite sides of the room, and Hermione turned out the light. She wondered how many hours it would be until dawn arrived, feeling that she would possibly see every one of them.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. You're all wonderful and I love you. Just a few replies- Kiki-0303: Yes, Hermione is offensive. I did it on purpose and never fear, she's going to feel terrible soon enough. (Besides, she's 19. 19-year-olds do say a lot of crap sometimes). Snakecharmer: Thank you for reviewing even when you were tired. I really do appreciate it! HeavenStone: The setting's colours irritated me, too, but they were supposed to. The reason for it all is on its way. SlytherinQueen87: Yes, I thought it was funny picturing Snape stuck in a pink room. I can't imagine a worse torture, myself. Meow, Dawn and Usuu Bishouji: Thank you for reviewing and for all the compliments. I don't deserve them, but I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter.