Disclaimers 'n' Stuff:

I do not own these characters, nor did I create the universe in which they live or the magic that they use. All I do is flesh them out a little.

I am also very much NOT British in any way, shape, or form, so if I'm not entirely accurate with anything, I apologize in advance. I do have one Brit friend (thanks much, Davenport!!) so hopefully I didn't botch too much of it.

Read on, enjoy, and please leave some constructive criticism!

Nicole sat up with a start, realizing that her fingertips were starting to go numb. Taking the vial in her hand, she realized that she had been depending on Snape to bring her the potion. Where was he, anyway? If she was taking the potion now, shouldn't he? And… yes, she should apologize for throwing that glass at him, although the thought of it terrified her. She slid to her feet, still in a nightgown, and slowly opened the door to the study. As soon as the door was fully open, Nicole stopped in her tracks, gaping.

Professor Snape had fallen asleep on his couch. He looked strange, less scary, without his coat. Nicole padded softly to the big chair across from Snape and sat down. Now she was faced with a dilemma: wake the teacher and face his wrath, or let him sleep and risk endangering him. Nicole looked at her sleeping professor, and felt a twinge of… something. She felt like she was seeing him for the first time. He looked so different without a scowl on his face, all sprawled out on the couch. His clothes, without his coat, looked out of place on him. The first few buttons on his white dress shirt were unbuttoned, one sleeve rolled up, and it seemed almost scandalous to see so much of his skin. Nicole felt as if she was intruding on Snape's privacy. In a way, she supposed she was.

A hitch in Snape's breathing made Nicole jump. What if it was because he hadn't taken the potion? Nicole looked at the vial in her hand, then back at Snape. She had to wake him. Nicole stood, took a step towards Snape, then stopped. This was going to be hell. She knew he was going to look at her like she was worthless, and insult her, and use that tone of voice that made her feel so small. But if she didn't wake him…

"Professor?" she started quietly. The corner of his mouth twitched once, but nothing else. Nicole was clutching the vial so hard her knuckles were white. "Professor? Professor Snape, you have to wake up."

When Snape woke, he woke suddenly. Within a second he had swung his body to a seated position and crossed his arms, looking up at her with his usual expression. "Yes, Miss Archer?"

Nicole felt her eyes moisten, but she swallowed hard and forced her voice to be steady. "I think you should take some of this." She held out the vial in an unsteady hand. He took it from her, a different expression on his face than she had ever seen. Probably because of what she had done. "Professor, before anything else… I want to apologize." Nicole's eyes were locked on the professor's coat, on the floor. It really did have a lot of buttons. "I'm really sorry for what I did last night. It was stupid… I feel really stupid. I know you don't like me being here, and the way I acted… It doesn't help anything."

She looked up into Snape's intense black eyes. He looked contemplative, and said nothing for a second. Then, in a completely neutral tone of voice, he said, "I understand." Nicole wasn't sure how to respond. Her confusion turned to dread when Snape continued, "Please, sit down." Snape looked down at himself, as if noticing where he was for the first time. "I have something to attend to, but I shall return." She sat in his chair, looking at the floor as he rose and started to move about, her stomach sinking to her knees.

-

Snape's thoughts raced as one hand buttoned up the sleeve on the opposite arm. How many students would have just let him sleep? Especially with the outburst that had occurred the previous night, Snape wouldn't have expected this from Archer. It was probably the girl's stupid Griffindor courage that spurred her actions. He was grateful that he had only rolled up one sleeve, as well. While the Dark Mark couldn't be activated, it hadn't faded since the downfall of the Dark Lord. He shrugged, stretched his arms, and tugged a little bit at his shirt so that the white extended just beyond the black of his coat. Archer had seen him at his most vulnerable moment, while he slept, and he noted that it didn't feel as bad as he would have expected. Perhaps Dumbledore had a point. Perhaps Severus had overreacted. What was the Headmaster's advice? Be nice… small talk… something about not treating her like she was in class. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door again and stepped inside.

Archer was looking down into her lap; Snape doubted that she knew he was in the room. He took out his wand and muttered, "Incendio," and the girl's head snapped up at the exact moment the fireplace lit up. Her gaze found his, and Snape saw the fear in her eyes. He could see her visibly tense, as if she was about to leap from the chair. Be nice, he told himself. It had been a long time since he had been anything but the snarky Potions master. "I thought a fire might… brighten the room." Feeling foolish, Snape sat on the couch stiffly. Raising his voice slightly, he barked, "We require breakfast."

A House-elf Apparated almost instantly, squeaking, "What is you wanting, sir?"

"I'll have a plate of bacon and eggs and… Miss Archer?" Snape looked at her pointedly.

"Uh, I… I'm not really…"

"Miss Archer, I insist. You have not eaten well recently." He paused, gauging her expression. Nice, he thought. "Please?"

The girl's expression was cloudy. Snape wasn't sure what that indicated, but he thought it a good sign that a second later Archer ordered toast and jam. When the House-elf left, a silence fell over the two of them. The cheery crackling of the fire made the stillness even worse. Snape knew that Archer wasn't going to say anything unless he did, but his mind was blank. What was there to talk about?

"Professor, is something wrong?"

Snape realized that he had been staring straight at Archer. "No. I simply cannot think of how to start a conversation." The girl's face contorted into an expression that Snape could not possibly interpret. "Are you alright, Miss Archer?"

"You want to talk with me?"

"Well, it's preferable to sitting in silence. If we will be confined in these chambers for another week and a half, we may as well make the best of it instead of fighting. Don't you agree?"

Before Nicole could speak, the House-elf showed up with their food. Hunger pangs twisted her stomach. She should have asked for something more than toast, but she had no idea that Snape would be so mild with her. After the House-elf left, she asked quietly, "Are you sure you don't mind eating with me, Professor?"

"Miss Archer," Snape began in his usual tone, but when he saw the girl visibly flinch, he finally broke down. "I have been worried sick about you. I would be very glad to see you eat something." He saw the surprise on Archer's face. Speaking so freely twisted Snape's stomach, but he reminded himself that this was a special situation. His classroom manner was not appropriate here; Dumbledore was right about that, at least. "I apologize for being so abrupt with you. Old habits are, after all, difficult to break. Perhaps you would be so kind as to help show me a less… abrasive manner." Snape filled his mouth with a forkful of eggs and waited for a response.

Nicole could hardly believe her ears. It sounded like her professor was asking her to be friends. Or something. Her mouth was dry. "I'm not sure what to say, Professor."

"Then it appears as if we are stuck." Both of them ate quietly for about a minute before a thought occurred to Snape. Small talk. "So, why did you take Advanced Potions?"

"Why?"

Instead of the irritation that Archer's repetition would cause, Snape was merely glad to hear her talk to him. "Yes, Miss Archer. Why. You are the only Griffindor in my class, and as your actions have demonstrated, not overly skilled at Potions." By the expression on Archer's face, Snape feared that his voice may have been overly harsh. "Did I say something wrong?"

Nicole's eyes on her plate, she shrugged.

"I do not understand. I'm trying to have a pleasant chat with you."

"It seems like you're insulting me, that's all."

Snape felt something inside of him crack. "Will you please not take me so damned seriously?" he snapped, exasperated. To Snape's complete surprise, a smile broke across Archer's face. "What?" he snapped again, but this time with less force. "I don't always intend to frighten, you know. My life's ambition is not to intimidate my students."

Nicole dared to say, quietly, "It's hard to believe that, Professor."

"You truly think that of me?" asked Snape. When she somberly nodded, it finally struck Snape how he had been treating her: like a first-year student, trembling in his classroom. That would stop right here, he decided. "Well then, why don't we make an arrangement." Snape saw Nicole's expression drop by a fraction; she probably expected a snide remark. "Whenever I am overly unpleasant, you should kick me."

Nicole nearly dropped her toast, she laughed so hard.

"I should what?"

"You ask me to clarify so often that I fear your hearing is impaired," Snape said, but he was smiling.

"I couldn't kick you! Jeez…"

The silence that followed while both ate was a comfortable one, punctuated by the occasional eye contact and smile.

When the House-elf Apparated to take their plates, it also delivered a note from Dumbledore. Snape read it while Nicole tried not to look too curious. She was glad of the change in events, and hoped it wasn't just temporary.

Severus, I hope things have been better. Did you take my advice? Let me know all about it when you have a moment. Snape smirked at that; as if he had anything but spare time. The teachers have been covering your classes by turns, each picking up what he or she can. Professor Sprout covered your first-year class and had an interesting experience with melted cauldrons. Minerva had some trouble with the sixth and seventh years regarding your absence. Apparently, there is a rumor going around that you poisoned Miss Archer, or that the two of you are engaged in less-than-appropriate relations while quarantined. Where do kids come up with these things? Regardless, I just thought that you should be updated about the goings-on in the school. –Albus

"What?" Nicole asked, seeing Snape chuckle. To her surprise, he held the parchment out towards her.

"Go on, read it."

Nicole took it and sped through it. Snape watched her eyes thoughtfully. She read quickly, he noticed. Her eyes jumped from phrase to phrase, and in a few seconds she was staring up at him.

"Inappropriate relations?"

"Indeed."

"Do they think we're…?"

"I would suppose so."

Nicole smiled. "Well, of course!" She saw Snape's eyes widen for an instant before her sarcasm struck her. "Of course that's why I poisoned myself! So I could spend the time with the love of my life, despite the fact that he's my Professor, over twice my age, and…"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Are you insinuating that I am not an Adonis?"

"Oh, Professor Snape, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways!"

While Nicole's pronouncement was overly flowery and exaggeratedly dramatic, the soft, velvety response that reached her ears sent a warm tingle down her spine: "I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight, for the ends of Being and ideal Grace."

Snape's eyes pierced her, and as the silence returned Nicole felt warm and runny inside. Sometimes his voice was amazing. "You know that whole poem?"

Snape tilted his head slightly, and continued, "I love thee to the level of everyday's most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for right; I love thee purely, as they turn from praise." Nicole's eyes were glued to his, her mouth slightly agape. The tingling in her body had snaked down between her legs. She felt like running away, or approaching him, or doing anything but just sit there under his paralyzing gaze, with that voice… "I love thee with the passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose with my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life, and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death."

Nicole felt her cheeks flush a bright pink when she finally broke the eye contact. She felt like she had been shaken from a trance or awakened from a coma. "That was… amazing, Professor, but… but you shouldn't talk like that, it'll be… it won't help the rumors, I guess." She smiled weakly up at him, feeling something like embarrassment and not knowing why.

"No, I suppose it won't." Snape paused, propped his chin on his right hand. "I didn't know you appreciated poetry, Miss Archer." Snape still had that queer, searching expression on his face. He didn't realize that she would appreciate just about anything if he had said it in that tone of voice.

Immediately after she had that thought, her mind recoiled. This was the same greasy Potions teacher she had been hiding from just a few hours ago! Ugh! But he was looking at her almost expectantly. Poetry. They were talking about poetry. "I haven't read much of it. In fact, I had never heard the rest of that poem until you said it just now. I do know a few stanzas of the Raven, but I guess everyone does. You know, 'once upon a midnight dreary,' and all that."

"What interests do you have, if not poetry?"

"Why do you ask?"

Snape shrugged lightly. "Honestly? I'm bored."

"Uhm… well, I don't know what you have to do down here. I mean, it's your place, you should know what kind of things you have."

Snape smiled, very slightly. Archer was babbling, but he actually enjoyed it. "What do you and your friends do, when trying to bide the time?"

"I'm not sure if you'd be too interested in what we do, Professor. It's kinda kid's stuff."

"Try me. I might surprise you."

Nicole smiled. First, his demeanor, then the poetry, and now he wants to spend quality time with her? Professor Snape was certainly full of surprises today.