Story Title: Obsession
Chapter Title: Ethic (3/3)
Chapter Rating: PG-13 - for cursing on Hermione's part, the girl has quite a mouth, and mind, on her in this story.
Author's Notes: Well, it's over. Not a long journey, but one nevertheless. I have decided to write a sequel to this short story. I definitely liked the set up this story will provide me for the second part. The first chapter of that should be posted in the next couple of weeks, I hope. Thanks to everyone who reviewed "Obsession" on it's original posting. Also, I noticed that I did not use Severus' name anywhere through out the story, not even his last name. I amended that in this chapter. I used his last name once to make Hermione's point. I hope that this story was enjoyed by all. -Danielle
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I
blow out another huff of irritation. How dare he do this to me? I
glaze over one time, now, I somehow deserve to scrub cauldrons and
dust old bookselves.
"That wasn't the first time
you've allowed your mind to venture into the field of forbidden
thought. . ."
I pause, "Where did that thought
come from?"
"It's true. You can't keep your
attention focused solely on your Potions assignments in his
class, can you?" the voice riduculed.
"No,"
I reply aloud. My fingers shoot up to my lips to pull the word back
in. He cannot hear me talking to myself. He'll think I've lost my
mind. He already believes me to be an imbecile, he does not need
further cause to question my intelligence.
"No what, Miss
Granger?" a sultry drawl inquires from the adjacent
study.
Dammit! I lightly smack my forehead, "Nothing
Professor."
"Then perhaps, you should keep your idle
utterances to yourself. Are you finished yet?" he asks
impatiently.
"Not yet, almost. I am working on the last
cauldron," I answer.
I hear him sigh heavily, "Well
please put a bit more effort into hurrying. I do have other things to
do besides punishing you. If you had been more attentive to your
cauldron, and had not been wasteful in the process, we would not be
here. What exactly is "almost"?"
"I've
just begun the last cauldron. After that, I'm done."
I
hear him sigh again, " And how long do you believe it will take
you to finish?"
"10, maybe 20 minutes. The leftover
potion is quite sticky. Most of it has hardened already. I think it
is," I breathe in the odor of the grubby cauldron, "Actually,
I don't know what it is. I'll clean it up though."
I
stop and wonder if I sound like a ninny babbling on. I decide that I
will sound that way to him no matter what I am saying.
The
legs of the sturdy desk chair scrapes against the floor. I am sure
that he has charmed them not to scratch his precious floor. He
would not like his perfection ruined.
I can hardly distinguish
the light sound of his footsteps from the quiet, soothing swish of
his teaching robes. My heart climbs out of my chest to knock against
my teeth when I realize that he's entered the laboratory. I can feel
his inky eyes on me, calculating, always, calculating.
"Bring
the last cauldrom to me MIss Granger," he commands in a hushed,
resigned tone, "I will take care of it."
I squeeze
my eyes shut and keep my back to him. "Breathe," I think to
myself. My hands move to support the large cauldron on either side of
its substanial width. I stiffen my muscles, and heft the cast iron
monstrosity into the air. I wimper at its weight, and square my
shoulders to steady myself.
"Are you able to carry it,"
he interupts my valiant efforts.
I grunt in response, managing
to choke out a meek "No."
"All right then. Set
it back down. I'll take care of it there."
I drop the
weighty cauldron back on the tabletop, none to gently, and he waltzs
around me, frowning, "Do try to be more careful Miss Granger.
You could have damaged my cauldron."
I glare up at him. I
nearly have a bloody stroke attempting to pick up something that
weighs more than a small child, and all he can think of is his
pot???
"And yourself, of course," he adds
indulgently.
I force my teeth into a grin, gripping the
table's edge to stave the release of any sarcastic comments. "Of
course," I coo in return, gritting my teeth slightly.
At
least I can say that I have spent time alone with him, away from the
curious students and staff. I can say that for a heartbeat, he saw
only me, even if he was in a mood, and insulting me. For a brief
moment, he was truly mine, though he may not know it.
A smooth
wave of his hand revealed his wand from the inner left pocket of his
outer robe. "Stand aside," he orders.
I obey
immediately, sliding over a few steps to give him direct access to
the cauldron in question.
He draws the wand through the air,
creating dazzling trails of of blue, yellow, and green. A misty fog
forms, descending upon the cauldron after glimmering a few more
moments in the open air.
My ears register a nearly inaudible
gasp of amazement and wonder at the beauty of the scene before me, I
then recognize the voice as my own, flushing instantly.
He
looks over at me, smirking smugly. Damn him.
"I take it,
you're impressed?"
"I. . .um, well, yes. I suppose,"
I sniff noncommittally to try and salvage my thin appearance of
nonchalance, to no avail. He already knew the truth.
He smirks
again and looks into the cauldron to survey his work. I peer in too,
to have a look for myself.
No trace of the thick, sticky
substance remained in the pot. "Hrmm, well done," I
offer.
He glances at me, sneering, "Indeed. Since the
last task is complete, you may go now. Learn to stay focused in class
from now on."
I nod and walk toward the doorway leading
to the office. I stop short when I hear the office's outer door
open.
"Severus?" a female voice calls out, "I
thought we were going to meet for drinks in Hogsmeade. Severus?"
"In
here," he replies behind me.
I flick my eyes back over my
shoulder, and to the doorway in front of me to see a blonde goddess
stroll through.
"Oh hello," the goddess says to me.
"Severus," she mumured seductively. She walks to him, past
me, as if I am nothing, pulling him into her arms before anointing
his parted lips with a demure kiss. She kindly glances back at me,
not yet releasing her prize, "I don't believe we've met. I'm
Catherine. Catherine Sullivan."
He coughs to clear his
throat, "Miss Granger, this is my finacee."
I know
that I am staring, I try to soften my gaze, but my eyes refuse to
cooperate. "Hi," I mutter.
"It's always nice to
meet Severus' students," the blonde informs me, pressing her
pouting lips against his pale, right cheek. "You are a student,
aren't you?"
Before I can answer, she goes on, snaring
the attention meant for me, "By the coloring of that tie, I'd
say you were a Ravenclaw. Am I correct?" She peers up at her
finacee innocently, as if on cue.
"You are correct
Catherine," he assures her. "You may go now, MIss
Granger."
I sniff once more, turning on my low, stacked
heels, exiting with as much grace that I can muster through my fog of
anger. Finacee?!? He's mine!
I reach for the cool steel
of the office's outer door knob. His words to her float to me, "I
must apologize Sweetheart. I had work to do. It slipped my mind to
owl you. Allow me to make it up to you. My tongue, has been in great
need of, exercise."
I do not miss the obvious suggestio
in his offer, nor do I miss the high-pitched giggle the flaxen doll
emits. Bitch.
I snatch the door open, walk through, and slam
it shut as hard as I can on their lust. I know that he will wish to
speak with me tomorrow, but I don't care. I'll simply undress him
with my mind as I always do.
I chuckle to myself, and scowl at
the group of Third Year Slytherin students eyeing me as I stomp down
the hallway.
"Oh yes," I vow silently, "Slytherin
shall have a new Mrs. Head of House, and it won't be a twit named
Catherine. I shall have him if it means that the most unfortunate
accident happens to one Miss Catherine Sullivan, or my name isn't
Hermione Granger. . . -Snape.
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The
End
