Sorry for taking an extra day! Hope you like this chapter! Thank you everyone for your reviews!
Also, a big thanks to everyone who went searching for my plot bunny!
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Chapter Thirty-Eight
Hermione's breath was coming in short, sharp gasps as she realized that she was lying not on the stone cold floor of the corridor as she should have been, but the thin chest of Severus Snape. Scrambling, she tried to pick herself up, only to get her hands caught in his cloak, which was tangled on the floor beside them. Falling again, she landed, a small "oof" coming from the Potions Master.
"Careful, Miss Granger," he murmured, his arms coming back to rest on her arms, stilling her before she could make another bad attempt at sitting up. So she stilled, her chest pressed against the Professor. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and she was shocked by the amusement that was hidden in the dark tunnels of his.
"I… I'm sorry." She whispered, shaking. An amused Professor Snape was probably more dangerous then an angry Professor Snape. Their eyes caught again, along with her breath. Her eyes flicked down, and before she could stop herself, she found herself examining his lips. They were thin, most likely from being pressed together in a grim line, or pulled back into a snarl. Her breathing hitched as she suddenly imagined kissing those lips. She found herself horrified that she would think about that, but strangely not repulsed.
She tried to tear her thoughts away from such an idea, but couldn't manage it until he spoke again. "Perhaps you could kindly remove yourself from my chest?" He asked. "Slowly, this time." A smile seemed to flick through his expression, yet never quite making it to his mouth.
With his guiding, she raised herself up, moving off him and leaving him sprawled across the hard floor. She sat up, twisting around to look at him. "Are you hurt, sir?" She asked softly.
He also sat up, running his hands down his chest in their usual manner. "No, I appear to be fine. Perhaps my ego is a little bruised."
She offered him a small smile. "But it was I who was… 'storming about the castle', I believe was how you put it." To her surprise, she was rewarded with an upward quirk of his lips. She felt heat rush to her cheeks and she remembered almost wanting to know what it was like to kiss those lips. Quickly, she turned her head, hoping he either wouldn't notice her blush, or would take it as blushing about the entire incident.
"You are right, Miss Granger, you certainly were." His voice did not seem quite as accusing as it usually did. "Might I ask where you were in such a hurry to?"
"Gryffindor Tower, sir." She replied simply. "It is nearly after curfew."
"As you have reminded me on several occasions, Miss Granger, curfew does not apply to you." She watched an eyebrow arched and his lips twitch again, to her irritation. She was even more so irritated by the irrational thought that rushed through her mind.
"Yes, sir, I am. However, other students are not, and I wish to attempt to save them from trouble." She informed him, silently adding that he was the trouble she wished for them to avoid.
"Right, Miss Granger." He whispered, his eyes searching hers again. Desperately, she wished he could look away. More then ever lately, she understood what Harry had told her about feeling like the Professor could look straight into his soul and see everything. She hoped to all Hell that he couldn't do that – she'd hate for him to see the inappropriate thoughts she'd had.
If he had managed to invade her mind without her knowledge, he did not show it. Instead, he rose gracefully to his legs, standing to his full height, before surprising Hermione once again by reaching down and offering her his hands, to help her to her feet. She gratefully accepted, and noticed the callous on his palm as his hands closed around hers.
His hands stayed holding hers until she was steady on her feet. "What are you doing, sir?" she asked, hoping to sound innocent. "You are not scheduled to do rounds this evening." A perfect arching of right brow told her that he was shocked that she knew when he was booked for rounds and not – but no other moment betrayed that shock. "I've access to the staffroom, sir. The rounds are posted there; I also need to know when I'm on duty."
"Of course you are, Miss Granger." Snape replied smoothly. "Not that it is any of your business, I was, like you, searching for students. However, I assure you that I had entirely different intentions."
"I knew there was a reason I had to protect the students tonight." Words came spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth as soon as they'd slipped out.
A chuckle met her words, much to her disbelief. "Quite correct, Miss Granger. Would that also happen to be the reason you've made yourself scarce from my chambers this week? Protection?"
Heat once again rushed to her cheeks. She'd already felt bad about missing her study, and thinking at one stage it was perhaps for the better, considering the state of the Potions Master. However, she was quite surprised to learn that he had clearly noted her absence. "No, Professor. It's just that my NEWTs are approaching, quite fast, as I'm sure you know." Words came tumbling out of her mouth, trying to find an excuse that her Professor might accept. "I've wanted to come and continue my study…"
"Yes, of course, NEWTs," Professor Snape's lips pressed together in a thin line, showing his displeasure. Hermione couldn't help but wonder about just what it was that he was displeased with? The upcoming exams for the entire school, or her lack of time spent in his chambers. Surely it couldn't have been the last.
To break the silence, which was almost uncomfortable, that had settled over the pair of them in the dimly lit corridor, Hermione leant down and began to pick up her books which had scattered themselves during the collision. The appearance of a long, pale hand in her line of vision told her that the Professor was also helping her. Once or twice they both reached for the same book at the same time, before both turning away from it, offering the other the chance to pick it up.
"Ladies first, Miss Granger," he murmured smoothly, after the third time, picking up another. Blushing, Hermione picked up the final book before standing, this time deciding to tuck the books into her book bag. Professor Snape stood at the same time, holding out her copy of Advanced Charms.
"Thank you, sir," she whispered, taking the book from him, allowing his eyes to catch hers. Big mistake, she thought, as his eyes held hers, once again seeming to search her soul. "I – I should keep going," she stuttered out, trying to look away.
"Perhaps you need escorting, Miss Granger, if only to see that you avoid any further accidents. Some people mightn't be as… kind as I." Hermione nearly laughed at this, the idea of Professor Snape calling himself kind. But she accepted the offer of an escort, nodding her head in shock and beginning to walk down the hall towards her room.
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Minerva McGonagall watched the retreated pair with growing interest. She had seen part of the encounter, draw by the female squeal that could be heard three corridors away. Rushing quickly to the source of the sound, she had been quite shocked to see Severus Snape and Hermione Granger laying on the floor of the corridor, seemingly fallen there.
Half of her was ready to rush in and save the Gryffindor from whatever Hell the grumpy Potions Master was about to give her (for she'd heard more then enough about the state of the man's temper the past few weeks), but another half of her reminded her of what happened last time she had rushed in to save someone. Unconsciously, she rubbed her chest with a hand, trying not to think of the five stunners that had hit her there two years ago.
So she'd stayed in the shadows, watching as the pair detangled themselves from each other and sat for a few moments in the corridor. Thankfully, despite the hushed voices they were using, her hearing was still sharp enough to capture some of the conversation they had engaged themselves in.
Her senses had pricked to alert when she heard Severus say "Would that also happen to be the reason you've made yourself scarce from my chambers this week?" Hermione Granger was visiting Severus Snape in his private chambers after class hours? She certainly couldn't have been visiting them during class hours.
Thankfully, Hermione had mentioned something about study, which worked to douse any disgusting ideas that had formed in the Headmistress's mind about what Hermione might have been doing in the man's chambers. But what study would she have been doing there, that she couldn't do in the Hogwart's School library?
With a troubled mind, Minerva continued on her original route, wondering what was happening. Severus Snape would have probably killed a student for bowling him over how Hermione clearly had. Yet he had not, instead politely inquiring as to where the witch was off to, followed by why she had not visited him. Minerva shook her head. Severus allowed no one into his private chambers. The few times he had visited him there before the unfortunate incident with Hermione getting ill, he had quite plain that though she was Headmistress, she was not welcome in his private quarters.
Minerva had watched Severus closely ever since she had left Hermione in his care, despite hardly catching a glimpse of the man during that time. After she had left, Severus had seemed not different, except his temper seemed to flare up more easily, and he had begun to attend the meals in the Great Hall more regularly then he had once upon a time. Minerva had had no idea that the young Gryffindor might have been spending time with him outside of the class.
Even though there were only two weeks until the Seventh-Years commenced their NEWTs, after seeing the gentle way Severus had dealt with Hermione just then, Minerva thought it best that she should have a talk with the Potions Master of Hogwarts sometime very soon.
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Snape returned to his dungeons straight after he had finished escorting Hermione Granger to the Gryffindor Common Room. He had asked her about her plans after school, and she had admitted with fear that she still had almost no idea. The only comfort he could find her in words was the thought that no matter what, the young witch could not possibly make the same mistakes he had upon ending his education at the grand castle.
Standing out of sight of the portrait of the Fat Lady to bid goodbye to Miss Granger, Snape had felt an unexplainable urge to invite the young witch down to his chambers to do some studying tonight. After the amusement he had felt after their tumbling in the corridor, he did not feel ready to retreat to his cold dungeons.
Thankfully, he had managed to resist this somewhat frightening urge, and after wishing Miss Granger the best of luck with her studies, he had swept off. Why he had wished her luck was beyond him – he knew that the talented witch did not need the luck, and also, he just simply did not wish students luck without making them tremble in fear at the way he said it. A small feeling of glee rose in him as he remembered the many students he had managed to terrorize over his years.
Yet Miss Granger, it seemed, was not terrified of him, not anymore. Oh, he knew that she had been in her earlier years of the castle, but not anymore. He couldn't help but feel that the time she had spent down in his rooms had caused that feeling to vanish, and he wasn't entirely sure if he was happy about that, or not.
Stripping himself of his black cloak, he settled onto the couch in his private rooms. He gave a snort. Not that they were so private anymore. Well, before this week, they had not been. Now he feared that they would return to their usual cold, empty state. The more he thought about it, the more the fear of such an idea grew.
He tried to tell himself that he was just being silly, and that he could welcome anyone into his chambers if it meant a distraction from the thoughts that threatened to plague him when he was left alone at the end of a long day. Even though he knew that more often then not these days, those thoughts were not of what might have happened during those two years that he could not remember, but of a someone.
Growling, he summoned a book from his impressive collection, catching it and opening it. A second later, a tumbler of firewhiskey was cradled in one hand as the book lay open in his lap. Though he had read every book in his library more then once, he did enjoy indulging himself in a random one at times, reabsorbing the information that was stored in a filing cabinet at the back of his mind. Idly, he wondered if Hermione did the same thing.
Flicking through the book, Snape's attention was a caught by a piece of parchment that sat between the pages. Pulling it out, he saw that it was covered in writing and symbols in Miss Granger's hand writing. Reading what she written, what she had proposed, Snape caught his hands running across the paper in a gently caress that he only allowed himself when dealing with the most delicate, or dangerous potion ingredient, or a new and very important book.
Looking down at his fingers, at the parchment, examining the sensations that were washing over him, something inside him snapped. He dropped the paper, picked up his tumbler of firewhiskey and hurled it at one stone wall.
"Fucking hell," he whispered, his eyes looking at the glass glinting on the dungeon floor, but seeing something completely different. It can't be true¸ he thought.
He couldn't be. There was no way….
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Well, that was interesting, lol. I think.
A conversation between Minerva and Snape next… I think…. --Looks at plot bunny for confirmation-- He knows better then I!
Oh, and the strange parts of this chapter can be blamed on a song I'm listening to at the moment, one I downloaded from Alan Rickman site… it's Alan Rickman singing about being a fish named Joe and doing something intelligent… It's really pretty damn funny. Anyone want to know more? Ask away :-)