A/N: I profusely apologize to those people who saw the first version of this that included my outline for the story. I hope finding out my plan for the ending doesn't ruin it for you.Besides, you're all smart readers, surely you can figure out what going to happen even without my notes tacked on the end!Hope this is worth the wait, and the stupid mistake.
Chapter Six--Plots
Listening to Flitwick chatter on about decorating the Great Hall for Valentine's Day had reminded Severus that that damned holiday was soon approaching. Although, this year he hoped he wouldn't be stalking the halls in search of hormone crazy teenagers who fancied themselves in love to the point that they broke curfew. He hoped to spend it with Hermione. He would take her to dinner, and then maybe a moonlit broom ride, or perhaps, a carriage enchanted to fly. Some bauble from Diagon Alley would suffice in earning her gratitude. And maybe…he hoped that if he could create the perfect romantic atmosphere then she would reward him with her affections. He mulled over the idea all day, interrupted only by Dumbledore asking him to pass the salt at dinner, and the arrival of Hermione, herself, later that night.
"I did it," she announced immediately after stepping out of the fireplace.
"Did what?" he asked sharply. He hated when people started conversations as if they were in the middle of them rather than at the beginning. He may be able to read minds, but that didn't mean he particularly liked to do it all the time. It was much easier if people would just tell him what they meant from the start.
"I quit my job," she said. Oh that. Yes, he had told her that she should, hadn't he. He wasn't known for giving good advice, mainly because most people were too frightened to ask him for it in the first place. It felt strangely satisfying to know that she trusted his judgment enough to follow it.
"What now?" he asked.
"I don't know," she said, leaning back into the couch and sighing deeply. "Maybe I could get a job at the Ministry. I certainly have enough contacts there between Mr. Weasley, Percy, Ron, and Harry. Surely one of them could set up an interview with someone, maybe in Developmental Potions." He shook his head.
"I'm sure they could get you an interview but you would need to finish an apprenticeship before they would seriously consider you."
"Oh." She looked disappointed and worried, chewing on her bottom lip and staring at her hands. Another annoying twinge of guilt assailed him. He had been the one to put her in this mess, but there was no way he would offer to take her on again. He would accept her under him in only one fashion, and it would not be as his apprentice. But he could certainly steer her away from potions altogether.
"Are you certain potions are what you want to do anyway? You excelled in all your classes. I think maybe you chose potions because I was the one professor that never openly sang your praises."
"And now?" she said, teasing him, and scooting closer. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him.
"I never could carry a tune." He angled his mouth over hers, kissing her.
This time he managed to work his hand up under her shirt, caressing her through her bra before she put an end to things. She pulled her lips from his, and gently guided his hand back down and from under her shirt, while he took the opportunity to explore her neck with his tongue.
"I have to go," she said, stifling a giggle as he hit a ticklish spot.
"No, you don't," he protested. "You told me that you quit your job. You have nowhere to be in the morning. I don't have class until 10. We have all night."
But she pulled away anyway. Standing up, she straightened her robes and smoothed her hair.
"I have a lot to do tomorrow precisely because I quit my job. There are contacts to be made, research to be done, opportunities to be explored."
"Don't go," he said, reaching for her hand while waving goodbye to the last shred of his dignity.
"I really should" He sighed the sigh of the defeated, dropping her hand.
"Goodnight then," he said curtly, ignoring the hurt look on her face.
"Goodnight. I'll see you later this week." There wasn't a question mark at the end of her statement, but it was a rather hesitant period. He nodded, and she leaned down and kissed his cheek. She walked to the fireplace, and he watched as she disappeared in a flash of green fire.
He should have known better than to ever engage in this sort of nonsense. He was worse than any of the students he found hiding in alcoves and behind rosebushes. He had lost control of this situation, and he didn't like it. Action needed to be taken. On second thought, he didn't think that a romantic evening for Valentine's Day would be enough. He had romanced her. He had offered comfort and advice while she sobbed into his shoulder. He had ignored her purple eyebrows and blue skin. Surely, he had gone above and beyond the duty of the average suitor, (he refused to use the term boyfriend,) and yet he had nothing to show for it. She might as well be Minerva or Sprout for all the action he saw.
Okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, he realized. He cringed at the thought of cuddling up to McGonagall, and the thought of kissing her made his stomach turn. But he was only a man, and previously a very lonely one at that. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. Except of course, he reminded himself, that he would have to do anything and everything it would take because he refused to entertain the alternative. He had spent enough time alone in his dungeons in the last twenty years. There had been no women, not even the possibility of a woman down there with him until Hermione. And if he was truthful with himself, he didn't want another woman, (even if there were to be another woman, which there wasn't.) He wanted Hermione.
But it appeared that his charm and winning personality would not be enough to win her over. He hated to think about it, but he might have to resort to insidious measures to win her over. Subterfuge had worked when he wanted her to quit her apprenticeship, and he felt certain that it would work again.
But what to do, what to do?
A love potion would be too obvious since she had spent a considerable amount of time studying potions. She would recognize one too easily for his purposes. The inspiration hit. A cupid, that might just work. Hit with an arrow, she would be falling all over him with declarations of love, and he hoped demonstrations.
'Well, so much for being sneaky and manipulative,' Hermione thought as she tumbled through the green flames. He had been insistent, and she couldn't ignore the hurt and angry look on his face when she rejected him. It hadn't been easy to leave, but it would have been harder to stay. Hermione had been uneasy about this relationship from the start. At first, because of the improper nature of it, the imbalance of power between master and apprentice. Afterwards, when that particular barrier was removed it was because she was afraid of being hurt. He was an exacting and demanding man. He could be cold and cutting, not the kind of person you simply handed your heart to on a whim. But he had proven that he had depths unforeseen until recently. Never in her wildest imagination would she have imagined him holding and comforting her.
'Rocking her blues away literally and figuratively,' she thought with a wicked grin. He had offered her support, and had resisted the urge to hex her obnoxious friends. And he clearly wanted her.
Valentine's Day loomed larger in her vision than before. She would need something particularly special, so that he would realize her feelings for him. Why couldn't he understand that she was scared? Her entire life had fallen to pieces in little less than a month. She no longer had a job or any sort of career path to speak of, she found herself dating her former professor to the shock and horror of her friends, and now said boyfriend was pressuring her to take the relationship farther faster than she was ready for. What was a girl to do?
The obvious answer of course was to consume large amounts of chocolate; it wasn't just good for Dementors. Hermione broke into her emergency stash of chocolate frogs while contemplating the matter of Severus and Valentine's Day. And then suddenly the perfect idea came to her. She smiled, catching her last frog before he could jump away. She may not have a job, but she would have her man.
Standing in front of Professor McGonagall the next day, Hermione began to doubt the validity of her plan. What had seemed so clear to her the night before had dulled to something more hazy, especially when confronted with her former, but still very stern, Transfiguration professor.
"I'm not quite sure I understand what you're asking, Miss Granger," McGonagall said, motioning for Hermione to sit. The older woman seated herself behind her desk, while Hermione took the chair usually reserved for wrong-doers and those with failing grades. She had never sat in this chair, not even after some of her and her friends' more daring escapades.
"I want you to let Professor Snape out of chaperoning the next Hogsmeade weekend," she stated in what she hoped was a professional tone.
"Yes, yes, I understand what you are asking. What I don't comprehend is why."
"He complains about having to do it. He tries his hardest to insure that the students have no fun. And besides that he is a decorated war hero, who deserves a break from the dunderheads he is forced to teach everyday."
"You of all people should be used to his complaining by now. And as a teacher of this school, he is required to share in the responsibilities over the students, which includes Hogsmeade weekends. Now why do you really want him out of this?"
"Valentine's Day is coming up and I wanted to surprise him with a nice day—a student free day. Technically the holiday is on Thursday but he'll have classes and will most likely be crabby, but if he found out he didn't have to accompany the upper forms to Hogsmeade…well, I think it would be a nice present. And I need a really great present at the moment."
"And why is that?" Professor McGonagall asked. Hermione hesitated in answering. What if Severus found out she was asking McGonagall for advice on their relationship? Would he ever forgive her?
But she really did need help. She had consulted her romance novels and had come up short. It seemed that many romantic heroines were all too happy to heave their breasts and fan the flames of love, (or was that lust?) Not one of them wanted to wait until they had discovered whether or not their prospective lover had any dark secrets, such as did he chew with his mouth open? But then again she was just plain old Hermione, (the women in the books always seemed to have exotic names like Estrella or Cassandra,) and her tiny breasts barely registered as such, let alone did any heaving. The women in these books all seemed helpless, dim, and oh so happy for the Lord of the Manor to save them. She certainly wasn't any of those three. She had helped defeat the Dark Lord, enjoyed more than just romantic walks on the beach, and though Severus had plenty of dark secrets in his past, he was no Lord and he had no manor house.
So, after a deep breath she told her.
"Ah, it all makes sense now," McGonagall said when she finished. Hermione looked at her perplexed. What made sense exactly? She was just as befuddled as before.
"I think you're going about it the right way. I'll let him off the hook this time, but only if you promise me something," Minerva continued.
"Anything!" Hermione said, relieved to hear she was going down the right path.
"Excellent. I'm so glad to hear that." Hermione looked a little worried after hearing her professor's request, but she reminded herself that it was for Severus, it was for Severus.