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