Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to
return ( although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. If there are any beta readers who wouldn't mind giving some constructive crits I would really appreciate it.
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed. A Snape and Hermione story which may change rating, depending upon the reviews and bunnies.
Thankyou for the reviews, promise to keep the word count up from now on. Will update regularly.especially if bunnies are well fed.hint hint ;o)
Big hug to Eternal Queen- just for being a sweetie! Hope the last chapter sorted out a few questions.
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ssssssssssss
"Professor Snape!" she cried, heartwrenchingly, her hand grasping the door frame for support as her world suddenly began to spin. At his sudden movement towards her, her consciousness gave up the fight and she descended into a black faint.
Severus swore and raced to catch her before she bashed her head against the stone of the door jamb or the wood of the floor. Picking her up gently he carried his unconscious burden to his bed and gently laid her upon the covers. Shit, he thought, why the bloody hell did it have to be her? Of all the people it could have been, she was probably the most embarrassing, well nearly he thought, a vision of Millicent Bulstrode flashing before his eyes. Seating himself on the side of the bed next to her he gazed finally upon his lover's face, noticing the red marks at her nape, the fullness of her lips, her rapid and shallow breaths drawing his attentions lower. He had no right, she was not his voluntarily, he told himself, and so he rose angrily to fetch a cold compress from the bathroom.
Hermione opened her eyes and for a split second she forgot what had distressed her. The sound of running water was followed by the click of bootheels across the floor towards her. She lifted her eyes to look into the ice cold visage of her former teacher and remembered. Her dismay was written across her face, and she flinched as he extended his hand towards her, trying to hand her the flannel for her forehead.
"I can't say I'm very impressed with the situation either Miss Granger", he drawled, "but, I believe that we need to talk about it. I shall be in the other room when you feel well enough to discuss this." he finished, and turning on his heel he strode to the door and out into the sitting room. Hermione watched as the light from the reawakened fire and a few candles flooded the room, leaving her in the semi darkness of Professor Snape's bedroom.
The shock was beginning to wear off and her emotions crashed about her, tumbling in waves, making no sense to her. Relief at finally knowing was tempered with the horror of knowing who he was. Anger at his identity was mixed with surprise and incredulation that he could possibly be the man of her dreams..literally. I need to wake up, I need to get away from here, a mantra began in her mind. She could not face him, not now, not ever. She sincerely hoped that she had not indeed travelled through time, because at least then she would have a chance of evading him for the rest of her life. God, how would he react if he thought her a student still, would he demand the talk he currently seemed to think was necessary? How would her schoolgirl self have handled it? With her head still trying to understand if she had created a temporal paradox, her heart finally got the message to her sleeping self that it was time for her to wake up and get her out of this mess, and with a slightly queasy action, Hermione slid between worlds and back into her own room...safe.
He had not slept well, after waiting for her to emerge from his bedroom, he had been furious to find she had vanished without the confrontation he had been building up to. He consequently spent the night mourning the fact that he had lost her, trying to forget the remains of her scent on his pillow and the feel of her skin under his lips. He had not been shocked, he realised, some part of him had already guessed her identity, but he had decided that he really did not want to know. He had been a coward, preferring to keep them both ignorant, but he had known. He wasn't sure when he had first realised, whether it was her scent, hardly changed from her school days, or a quality in her sighs and gasps of pleasure. Not that he had heard that sort of sound emanating from her during her schooldays, he smiled wryly at the thought. There was just something, some identifying trait that meant he knew, in his heart he knew. He ran the thought round in his mind, he had not been shocked, not disappointed, not even angry, just....just humiliated, he realised. A deep pain had exploded within him at the look on her face, her loathing radiating from her, his anger had been reserved for himself.
"Hermione," he moaned to himself, "I'm sorry I couldn't be someone else for you.", and at last, as the morninglight edged over the horizon, he drifted into a fitful sleep.
Hermione's feelings were still a jumble, still fighting to find a supremacy. She was hurt, was angry, was disappointed, and yet, she also felt relieved to know him, the surprise was still there and a wonder. She remembered his gentleness, his passion, the way he could make her feel, and she found herself wondering if she could ever find that with someonelse. Pulling herself out of her extremely untidy bed she pulled back her curtains with a flourish. She had to find out, and to do that she needed a boyfriend, no she corrected herself mentally, she needed a man.
In the event she spoke to Cassandra, it was more thorough than getting psychiatric treatment and a great deal cheaper than attending all those dating clubs. "Are you entirely serious?" Cassandra whispered, "Do you realise how rare it is to find a man like that? Girl, go and get him! I mean, how bad can he be if he is so great between the sheets?"
"You have no idea" Hermione responded her misery evident in her voice, "He made my life hell, insulted me, picked on me, was truly horrible, mean and nasty, all through my school life. He had greasy hair, a hooked nose and bad teeth, he was perhaps the most repulsive person I knew and most definitely the most disagreeable. I must be mad to even contemplate what you are suggesting!" she moaned, holding her head in her hands.
It had been three days, or more importantly two nights with the next one only a few hours away, since she had had her revelation. She had spent the previous nights desparately trying to prevent herself ending up back in his rooms. She was not ready to face him, and had no idea of his current opinion of her either. She was a Gryffindor with no courage, the irony escaped her for the moment.
Cassandra grinned down at her, but composed herself to reply,
"Honey, you're a woman, you're allowed to revise your opinion. In fact I think it is obligatory when it comes to men, although most find it is a good opinion that changes to bad." She grinned wryly. "You just like to be different. Well here is your chance. He might have been all the things you say he was, but he is also all the things he made you feel, all the passion, all the tears. He deserves a chance Hermione, and so my dear, do you." She murmured comfortingly, putting her arm around the shaking girl and giving her a quick squeeze.
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ss
It had taken some time to get to this point, she thought, but she was now ready. Smoothing her hands over her hips, Hermione made sure she looked perfectly composed before slipping into bed. She drifted quickly to sleep and found herself drawn to his rooms just as she had hoped she would be. Quickly crossing the room she saw the light from his reading candle spilling under the door, calling to her like a beacon. Slowly opening the door she gazed at him sitting in his chair before the fire, a book open on his lap. He closed it purposefully and looked up at her, his face carefully blank, showing none of the emotion she was now sure he was capable of.
"Severus," she whispered, "Severus, can we talk?"
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. If there are any beta readers who wouldn't mind giving some constructive crits I would really appreciate it.
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed. A Snape and Hermione story which may change rating, depending upon the reviews and bunnies.
Thankyou for the reviews, promise to keep the word count up from now on. Will update regularly.especially if bunnies are well fed.hint hint ;o)
Big hug to Eternal Queen- just for being a sweetie! Hope the last chapter sorted out a few questions.
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ssssssssssss
"Professor Snape!" she cried, heartwrenchingly, her hand grasping the door frame for support as her world suddenly began to spin. At his sudden movement towards her, her consciousness gave up the fight and she descended into a black faint.
Severus swore and raced to catch her before she bashed her head against the stone of the door jamb or the wood of the floor. Picking her up gently he carried his unconscious burden to his bed and gently laid her upon the covers. Shit, he thought, why the bloody hell did it have to be her? Of all the people it could have been, she was probably the most embarrassing, well nearly he thought, a vision of Millicent Bulstrode flashing before his eyes. Seating himself on the side of the bed next to her he gazed finally upon his lover's face, noticing the red marks at her nape, the fullness of her lips, her rapid and shallow breaths drawing his attentions lower. He had no right, she was not his voluntarily, he told himself, and so he rose angrily to fetch a cold compress from the bathroom.
Hermione opened her eyes and for a split second she forgot what had distressed her. The sound of running water was followed by the click of bootheels across the floor towards her. She lifted her eyes to look into the ice cold visage of her former teacher and remembered. Her dismay was written across her face, and she flinched as he extended his hand towards her, trying to hand her the flannel for her forehead.
"I can't say I'm very impressed with the situation either Miss Granger", he drawled, "but, I believe that we need to talk about it. I shall be in the other room when you feel well enough to discuss this." he finished, and turning on his heel he strode to the door and out into the sitting room. Hermione watched as the light from the reawakened fire and a few candles flooded the room, leaving her in the semi darkness of Professor Snape's bedroom.
The shock was beginning to wear off and her emotions crashed about her, tumbling in waves, making no sense to her. Relief at finally knowing was tempered with the horror of knowing who he was. Anger at his identity was mixed with surprise and incredulation that he could possibly be the man of her dreams..literally. I need to wake up, I need to get away from here, a mantra began in her mind. She could not face him, not now, not ever. She sincerely hoped that she had not indeed travelled through time, because at least then she would have a chance of evading him for the rest of her life. God, how would he react if he thought her a student still, would he demand the talk he currently seemed to think was necessary? How would her schoolgirl self have handled it? With her head still trying to understand if she had created a temporal paradox, her heart finally got the message to her sleeping self that it was time for her to wake up and get her out of this mess, and with a slightly queasy action, Hermione slid between worlds and back into her own room...safe.
He had not slept well, after waiting for her to emerge from his bedroom, he had been furious to find she had vanished without the confrontation he had been building up to. He consequently spent the night mourning the fact that he had lost her, trying to forget the remains of her scent on his pillow and the feel of her skin under his lips. He had not been shocked, he realised, some part of him had already guessed her identity, but he had decided that he really did not want to know. He had been a coward, preferring to keep them both ignorant, but he had known. He wasn't sure when he had first realised, whether it was her scent, hardly changed from her school days, or a quality in her sighs and gasps of pleasure. Not that he had heard that sort of sound emanating from her during her schooldays, he smiled wryly at the thought. There was just something, some identifying trait that meant he knew, in his heart he knew. He ran the thought round in his mind, he had not been shocked, not disappointed, not even angry, just....just humiliated, he realised. A deep pain had exploded within him at the look on her face, her loathing radiating from her, his anger had been reserved for himself.
"Hermione," he moaned to himself, "I'm sorry I couldn't be someone else for you.", and at last, as the morninglight edged over the horizon, he drifted into a fitful sleep.
Hermione's feelings were still a jumble, still fighting to find a supremacy. She was hurt, was angry, was disappointed, and yet, she also felt relieved to know him, the surprise was still there and a wonder. She remembered his gentleness, his passion, the way he could make her feel, and she found herself wondering if she could ever find that with someonelse. Pulling herself out of her extremely untidy bed she pulled back her curtains with a flourish. She had to find out, and to do that she needed a boyfriend, no she corrected herself mentally, she needed a man.
In the event she spoke to Cassandra, it was more thorough than getting psychiatric treatment and a great deal cheaper than attending all those dating clubs. "Are you entirely serious?" Cassandra whispered, "Do you realise how rare it is to find a man like that? Girl, go and get him! I mean, how bad can he be if he is so great between the sheets?"
"You have no idea" Hermione responded her misery evident in her voice, "He made my life hell, insulted me, picked on me, was truly horrible, mean and nasty, all through my school life. He had greasy hair, a hooked nose and bad teeth, he was perhaps the most repulsive person I knew and most definitely the most disagreeable. I must be mad to even contemplate what you are suggesting!" she moaned, holding her head in her hands.
It had been three days, or more importantly two nights with the next one only a few hours away, since she had had her revelation. She had spent the previous nights desparately trying to prevent herself ending up back in his rooms. She was not ready to face him, and had no idea of his current opinion of her either. She was a Gryffindor with no courage, the irony escaped her for the moment.
Cassandra grinned down at her, but composed herself to reply,
"Honey, you're a woman, you're allowed to revise your opinion. In fact I think it is obligatory when it comes to men, although most find it is a good opinion that changes to bad." She grinned wryly. "You just like to be different. Well here is your chance. He might have been all the things you say he was, but he is also all the things he made you feel, all the passion, all the tears. He deserves a chance Hermione, and so my dear, do you." She murmured comfortingly, putting her arm around the shaking girl and giving her a quick squeeze.
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ss
It had taken some time to get to this point, she thought, but she was now ready. Smoothing her hands over her hips, Hermione made sure she looked perfectly composed before slipping into bed. She drifted quickly to sleep and found herself drawn to his rooms just as she had hoped she would be. Quickly crossing the room she saw the light from his reading candle spilling under the door, calling to her like a beacon. Slowly opening the door she gazed at him sitting in his chair before the fire, a book open on his lap. He closed it purposefully and looked up at her, his face carefully blank, showing none of the emotion she was now sure he was capable of.
"Severus," she whispered, "Severus, can we talk?"