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Chapter Seventeen
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Hermione squeaked in shock, quickly double checking her surroundings. **Yep, I'm *really* not in the hallway anymore,** she thought with a slightly hysterical giggle. "How did I do that?" she asked aloud, which of course promptly started a silent argument with herself.
//Apparation, duh!//
Hermione's eyes widened, and she shook her head in denial. "You can't *do* that at Hogwarts," she protested.
//Well, how the bloody else do you explain it?//
She couldn't. She freely admitted that. She didn't know how she'd done what she'd done. Nope, no clue whatsoever! She supposed it didn't really matter. There was bound to be *someone* at Hogwarts who could tell her.
**Oh, God!** "I attacked a Professor!" Hermione groaned, stifling the sound quickly as she finally became aware of the normal noises of people within the library. She sank to the floor, backing herself up into the corner, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms tightly around her legs. She didn't really care where she was right now, only where she would be very shortly -- on Hogwarts Express headed home. She was sure of it. She groaned again, stifling a sob. Her parents would be *so* disappointed in her.
Even with provocation -- and Hermione could admit, in hindsight, she hadn't been provoked, not really -- attacking a Professor was simply *not* something you did without grave consequences. Professor Snape would have to watch his back constantly if it weren't. She almost giggled at that thought, and she began to wonder if she'd completely lost her mind. Giggling? Now? When her life was falling apart?
She didn't know how long she sat there, ignoring the muted sounds coming from the main section of the library, tears streaming down her face, but she suddenly realized she wasn't alone anymore. She jerked her head up, gasping as she saw Professor Snape looming above her, his expression as stern as she'd ever seen it, arms folded firmly across his chest.
"I don't know how I did it!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet and hastily wiping the telltale evidence of tears from her face.
Professor Snape snorted. Hermione didn't know whether she had actually amused him, or if he thought she was an idiot, but either way, she wasn't happy with the reaction. She didn't like being laughed at.
"If *I* were you," he snarled, "I'd be far more worried about the punishment for having physically attacked a Professor of Hogwarts."
**Okay, that's it! It's official! He's an overbearing, conceited . . . *git*!** "What do you think the tears were for?" she snapped back, anger overcoming the last bits of fear she had of this man, the dreaded potions Professor. She was expelled anyway, what did she care if she pissed him off royally!
She delighted in the flash of emotion that lit his eyes, the angry stiffening of his posture. She even delighted in the threatening step forward he made in her direction.
He sneered down at her. "You acted without thinking, embarrassing yourself beyond measure," he retorted.
"You are so full of yourself, thinking I'd believe that rot!" she interrupted, her voice rising in volume and pitch. "You thought, bookworm, know-it-all, *Mudblood*, *Granger* was crying in the restricted section of the library because she couldn't figure out how she'd done something she shouldn't have been able to do!" A thrill shot through her as she watched Professor Snape's jaw dropped -- *slightly* -- at her vulgar use of the word mudblood. She felt brave. She felt *powerful*. She'd reached the end of everything and now she had nothing left to lose.
"Miss *Granger*!" Professor Snape snapped, now standing only inches from her, forcing her to crane her neck back in order to meet his look eye to eye -- and look him in the eyes she did. She wasn't about to back down now. "First of all, 50 points from Gryffindor for *daring* to screech in profound disrespect to a Professor. Secondly, 10 points from Gryffindor for use of *that* term. Thirdly, do not *ever* dare to assume you know what I'm thinking. You do not have the insight to do so correctly."
Hermione gaped up at Snape . . . her *fiance*. He was taking *house points*?! Of all the--
"Consider yourself fortunate that I do not assign you detention with Filch for the remained of your school career."
"Oh, get over it, *Professor*," she retorted angrily, her eyes narrowing -- though they threatened to fill with more tears at the less than subtle reminder that she wouldn't be finishing school at all. "I'll be expelled for what I did. Threats of house points and detention aren't exactly going to throw me."
"Typical Gryffindor," he sneered, "not caring about--
"Don't you *dare* bring houses into this!--" Hermione couldn't believe she was trying to talk *over* Professor Snape. It was official. She really *had* lost her mind.
"--anything or *anyone*--
"--We both know this isn't about *houses* or--"
"--beyond their need to act like--"
"--*bravery*. It's about being--"
"--foolhardy *idiots*!"
"made fun of!"
Silence descended rather abruptly and the two of them found themselves blinking at each other in shock. At least Hermione *thought* the expression on Professor Snape's face was shock. She scowled back at him. How *dare* he accuse her of that *rot*! She'd spent most of her years here at school trying to keep Harry and Ron from acting rashly, and now he was--
"Being made fun of?" Snape demanded, interrupting her angry mental tirade. "What the devil are you talking about?"
"Oh, come on, Professor. Don't tell me you don't know exactly what's going to happen as soon as it gets out that not only have we been "roped" into a marriage agreement, but that *Professor* Trelawney tried to seduce you after that."
Encouraged, although she wasn't certain she should be, by Professor Snape's lack of response . . . coupled with an expression that fell short of murderous -- **Stunned?** -- Hermione continued. "I knew from the beginning, Sir, that student reaction to this wasn't *exactly* going to be all positive -- no insult intended --"
"None taken," Professor Snape surprised her by saying, rather absently actually. What surprised her even more was the amused smirk that followed the comment.
"Right. Anyway. I'd expected a fair amount of teasing and taunting. What I didn't count on, was having to also put up with the types of comments that Professor Trelawney's attempt will cause."
"And just what kinds of comments would those be?" Professor Snape drawled, sarcasm once again thick. "I cannot see why anything her actions cause could possibly be considered worse than any other teasing you may receive," he finished, his tone and expression both highly doubtful, his smirk remaining firmly in place.
**Why you *smug* bastard! You'll regret that!** "Fine," Hermione replied sweetly. "Then I suppose you won't mind when I start snogging Ron Weasley at dinner in the Great Hall tonight." Hermione felt *great* satisfaction watching a split second of shock shoot across the professor's face like lightening. "And you, of course, won't mind the comments that *may* provoke."
"Do it," Snape hissed venomously, "and you'll regret you *ever* set foot inside Hogwarts, Miss Granger. Real marriage agreement or not, I will *not* be made a fool of!"
Hermione smiled, the attempt a little sad. "And now we understand one another. I don't enjoy being in that position either, Professor."
Professor Snape simply stared at her for several long moments, long enough that Hermione began to wonder if she had actually rendered the man speechless. It was certainly an enticing thought. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be.
"I see your point, Miss Granger," he said stiffly. "We do, indeed, understand each other." He paused, frowning, looking quite torn, equal measures of puzzlement and impatience warring across his features. With a slight huff, he continued, and Hermione's eyes widened disbelievingly.
She couldn't believe what she was hearing! Professor *Snape* had said *that* to Professor Trelawney? Well, come to think of it, she could easily believe he'd said that about the so-called seer, he was definitely mean enough to do it. What was *really* incredible was the fact that, unwanted as it was, he had *defended* his position in their unique 'relationship'. After *that* display, there would be no whispers of, 'Granger can't even keep the man her *parents* caught for her'. Or worse yet, 'Granger can't even keep the greasy potions professor'. Of course, she now, also, wouldn't have to listen to the not-so-subtle innuendo that she must be *incredibly* bad in bed. That would have been the absolute worst. She had *never*, not in her entire life, been so singularly grateful to any one person!
Hermione almost grinned. Reality, however, once again intruded on her brief second of happiness. She sighed instead. "It's probably a moot point anyway. I *did* attack Professor Trelawney, technically unprovoked. There's no way around that."
Professor Snape's expression turned thoughtful and then speculative, stirring incredible curiosity inside Hermione. She was *dying* to know what he was thinking about. She didn't dare ask, remaining silent only by firmly biting her lip. She jumped when he growled . . . *literally* growled.
"There might be," he admitted, sounding like the words had been torn from him most unwillingly.
Intrigued, scared, curious, *terrified*, daring to hope, Hermione clapped, finally grinning. She bounced up just enough to plant a quick kiss on Professor Snape's cheek. "Thank you!" she exclaimed.
Professor Snape's eyes widened, his smirk turning almost instantly to a scowl.
Hermione took a step back in horrified shock. "I shouldn't have done that," she squeaked.
"Follow me," Snape snarled, spinning around and sweeping out of the restricted section.
Hermione quickly followed, blushing, but just as happy that the surly professor hadn't spoken of what she'd just done. She was embarrassed enough that she'd done it in the first place. Being berated about impulsive behavior like an irresponsible first year would have been just too much.
TBC
Kiristeen
Feedback: it does a writer good. : )~
Kiristeen@kiristeen.com
Chapter Seventeen
**********
Hermione squeaked in shock, quickly double checking her surroundings. **Yep, I'm *really* not in the hallway anymore,** she thought with a slightly hysterical giggle. "How did I do that?" she asked aloud, which of course promptly started a silent argument with herself.
//Apparation, duh!//
Hermione's eyes widened, and she shook her head in denial. "You can't *do* that at Hogwarts," she protested.
//Well, how the bloody else do you explain it?//
She couldn't. She freely admitted that. She didn't know how she'd done what she'd done. Nope, no clue whatsoever! She supposed it didn't really matter. There was bound to be *someone* at Hogwarts who could tell her.
**Oh, God!** "I attacked a Professor!" Hermione groaned, stifling the sound quickly as she finally became aware of the normal noises of people within the library. She sank to the floor, backing herself up into the corner, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms tightly around her legs. She didn't really care where she was right now, only where she would be very shortly -- on Hogwarts Express headed home. She was sure of it. She groaned again, stifling a sob. Her parents would be *so* disappointed in her.
Even with provocation -- and Hermione could admit, in hindsight, she hadn't been provoked, not really -- attacking a Professor was simply *not* something you did without grave consequences. Professor Snape would have to watch his back constantly if it weren't. She almost giggled at that thought, and she began to wonder if she'd completely lost her mind. Giggling? Now? When her life was falling apart?
She didn't know how long she sat there, ignoring the muted sounds coming from the main section of the library, tears streaming down her face, but she suddenly realized she wasn't alone anymore. She jerked her head up, gasping as she saw Professor Snape looming above her, his expression as stern as she'd ever seen it, arms folded firmly across his chest.
"I don't know how I did it!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet and hastily wiping the telltale evidence of tears from her face.
Professor Snape snorted. Hermione didn't know whether she had actually amused him, or if he thought she was an idiot, but either way, she wasn't happy with the reaction. She didn't like being laughed at.
"If *I* were you," he snarled, "I'd be far more worried about the punishment for having physically attacked a Professor of Hogwarts."
**Okay, that's it! It's official! He's an overbearing, conceited . . . *git*!** "What do you think the tears were for?" she snapped back, anger overcoming the last bits of fear she had of this man, the dreaded potions Professor. She was expelled anyway, what did she care if she pissed him off royally!
She delighted in the flash of emotion that lit his eyes, the angry stiffening of his posture. She even delighted in the threatening step forward he made in her direction.
He sneered down at her. "You acted without thinking, embarrassing yourself beyond measure," he retorted.
"You are so full of yourself, thinking I'd believe that rot!" she interrupted, her voice rising in volume and pitch. "You thought, bookworm, know-it-all, *Mudblood*, *Granger* was crying in the restricted section of the library because she couldn't figure out how she'd done something she shouldn't have been able to do!" A thrill shot through her as she watched Professor Snape's jaw dropped -- *slightly* -- at her vulgar use of the word mudblood. She felt brave. She felt *powerful*. She'd reached the end of everything and now she had nothing left to lose.
"Miss *Granger*!" Professor Snape snapped, now standing only inches from her, forcing her to crane her neck back in order to meet his look eye to eye -- and look him in the eyes she did. She wasn't about to back down now. "First of all, 50 points from Gryffindor for *daring* to screech in profound disrespect to a Professor. Secondly, 10 points from Gryffindor for use of *that* term. Thirdly, do not *ever* dare to assume you know what I'm thinking. You do not have the insight to do so correctly."
Hermione gaped up at Snape . . . her *fiance*. He was taking *house points*?! Of all the--
"Consider yourself fortunate that I do not assign you detention with Filch for the remained of your school career."
"Oh, get over it, *Professor*," she retorted angrily, her eyes narrowing -- though they threatened to fill with more tears at the less than subtle reminder that she wouldn't be finishing school at all. "I'll be expelled for what I did. Threats of house points and detention aren't exactly going to throw me."
"Typical Gryffindor," he sneered, "not caring about--
"Don't you *dare* bring houses into this!--" Hermione couldn't believe she was trying to talk *over* Professor Snape. It was official. She really *had* lost her mind.
"--anything or *anyone*--
"--We both know this isn't about *houses* or--"
"--beyond their need to act like--"
"--*bravery*. It's about being--"
"--foolhardy *idiots*!"
"made fun of!"
Silence descended rather abruptly and the two of them found themselves blinking at each other in shock. At least Hermione *thought* the expression on Professor Snape's face was shock. She scowled back at him. How *dare* he accuse her of that *rot*! She'd spent most of her years here at school trying to keep Harry and Ron from acting rashly, and now he was--
"Being made fun of?" Snape demanded, interrupting her angry mental tirade. "What the devil are you talking about?"
"Oh, come on, Professor. Don't tell me you don't know exactly what's going to happen as soon as it gets out that not only have we been "roped" into a marriage agreement, but that *Professor* Trelawney tried to seduce you after that."
Encouraged, although she wasn't certain she should be, by Professor Snape's lack of response . . . coupled with an expression that fell short of murderous -- **Stunned?** -- Hermione continued. "I knew from the beginning, Sir, that student reaction to this wasn't *exactly* going to be all positive -- no insult intended --"
"None taken," Professor Snape surprised her by saying, rather absently actually. What surprised her even more was the amused smirk that followed the comment.
"Right. Anyway. I'd expected a fair amount of teasing and taunting. What I didn't count on, was having to also put up with the types of comments that Professor Trelawney's attempt will cause."
"And just what kinds of comments would those be?" Professor Snape drawled, sarcasm once again thick. "I cannot see why anything her actions cause could possibly be considered worse than any other teasing you may receive," he finished, his tone and expression both highly doubtful, his smirk remaining firmly in place.
**Why you *smug* bastard! You'll regret that!** "Fine," Hermione replied sweetly. "Then I suppose you won't mind when I start snogging Ron Weasley at dinner in the Great Hall tonight." Hermione felt *great* satisfaction watching a split second of shock shoot across the professor's face like lightening. "And you, of course, won't mind the comments that *may* provoke."
"Do it," Snape hissed venomously, "and you'll regret you *ever* set foot inside Hogwarts, Miss Granger. Real marriage agreement or not, I will *not* be made a fool of!"
Hermione smiled, the attempt a little sad. "And now we understand one another. I don't enjoy being in that position either, Professor."
Professor Snape simply stared at her for several long moments, long enough that Hermione began to wonder if she had actually rendered the man speechless. It was certainly an enticing thought. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be.
"I see your point, Miss Granger," he said stiffly. "We do, indeed, understand each other." He paused, frowning, looking quite torn, equal measures of puzzlement and impatience warring across his features. With a slight huff, he continued, and Hermione's eyes widened disbelievingly.
She couldn't believe what she was hearing! Professor *Snape* had said *that* to Professor Trelawney? Well, come to think of it, she could easily believe he'd said that about the so-called seer, he was definitely mean enough to do it. What was *really* incredible was the fact that, unwanted as it was, he had *defended* his position in their unique 'relationship'. After *that* display, there would be no whispers of, 'Granger can't even keep the man her *parents* caught for her'. Or worse yet, 'Granger can't even keep the greasy potions professor'. Of course, she now, also, wouldn't have to listen to the not-so-subtle innuendo that she must be *incredibly* bad in bed. That would have been the absolute worst. She had *never*, not in her entire life, been so singularly grateful to any one person!
Hermione almost grinned. Reality, however, once again intruded on her brief second of happiness. She sighed instead. "It's probably a moot point anyway. I *did* attack Professor Trelawney, technically unprovoked. There's no way around that."
Professor Snape's expression turned thoughtful and then speculative, stirring incredible curiosity inside Hermione. She was *dying* to know what he was thinking about. She didn't dare ask, remaining silent only by firmly biting her lip. She jumped when he growled . . . *literally* growled.
"There might be," he admitted, sounding like the words had been torn from him most unwillingly.
Intrigued, scared, curious, *terrified*, daring to hope, Hermione clapped, finally grinning. She bounced up just enough to plant a quick kiss on Professor Snape's cheek. "Thank you!" she exclaimed.
Professor Snape's eyes widened, his smirk turning almost instantly to a scowl.
Hermione took a step back in horrified shock. "I shouldn't have done that," she squeaked.
"Follow me," Snape snarled, spinning around and sweeping out of the restricted section.
Hermione quickly followed, blushing, but just as happy that the surly professor hadn't spoken of what she'd just done. She was embarrassed enough that she'd done it in the first place. Being berated about impulsive behavior like an irresponsible first year would have been just too much.
TBC
Kiristeen
Feedback: it does a writer good. : )~
Kiristeen@kiristeen.com
