After four nights at Ron's house trying to avoid Ron as much as possible by always being attached to Ginny, Hermione was finally at Hogwarts. She threw herself onto her brand new Head Girl's large four-poster bed, closed her eyes and groaned.
She had been talked into staying with the Weasleys for a few days and between avoiding Ron and not thinking about Professor Snape, she was exhausted. Albus had approved of her staying, but had made a pointed comment about how Professor Snape would have to reschedule their meeting if she wasn't going to come straight there. She didn't know how to tell him that she wouldn't be meeting with Professor Snape, because she knew there'd be questions she definitely couldn't answer, however satisfying it would be to make Albus Dumbledore blush.
"Well actually sir, I won't be meeting Professor Snape to talk about the Malfoy situation. Why? Oh, because I fucked him. I also cried out his name as he brought me to orgasm with that amazing tongue of his. So you can probably see why it'd be a little awkward. What? Do I want a Lemon Drop? That's very kind of you, sir."
She snorted, half in amusement, half in despair.
She'd seen her parents and it had indeed been hell. Mr and Mrs Weasley and dragged Harry and Ron out to play in the arcade nearby to give them some privacy, completely ignoring Hermione's 'don't leave me' gestures. Arthur had been thrilled when Harry had shown him how to play 'House of the Dead' and Ron had spent his time there wading through a giant stick of Candyfloss. He'd been covered in it when she'd found him, and the pink had really clashed with his hair.
Left alone in her parents' hotel room, she'd tried to explain the situation in a variety of different ways. In the end she'd gone for being blunt and completely truthful. She even told them exactly how she'd found Crookshanks and that if they stayed in their house, she'd come home to find them like that one day.
Her father had talked about calling the police and her mum had been all teary, but eventually she had made them see sense. It had been easier than she'd expected actually, but a comment from her mum soon explained why.
"That lovely headmaster of yours came to visit again, just before you got here. Brought that professor who looks a bit like a vampire," she'd said. "They were remarkably helpful. Told us you were going to be Head Girl this year."
Albus had told them where he was going to hide them, but had told them not to tell Hermione, much to her curiosity and frustration. Severus Snape had told them he'd take her to visit them once they were settled in. However, he was still a bastard.
Plus, it really didn't sound like him.
The headmaster had told them that they were in danger but had left it to Hermione to explain, which Hermione thought had been pretty crappy of him. It wouldn't have taken much to explain the situation to them himself to save her the hell of her parents just not getting it.
She had a good mind to magically confiscate all his Lemon Drops as a punishment. That'd teach him. Or maybe give him a nervous breakdown of some sort, but still, it would serve him right.
She turned over on her bed, burying her head in her squishy pillows. Being Head Girl had its advantages. She had her own rooms at the top of Gryffindor tower and could feel the magic in them, which told her there would be enough protective charms on the room to make her safe from even Voldemort himself. Maybe especially Voldemort.
She wondered if Albus had made her Head Girl just because he could make her safer that way. She had fewer restrictions, being able to patrol the halls at night if she so wished. She was even allowed into the restricted section of the library, which had been her biggest thrill in getting the post.
She closed her eyes and wished she could just fall asleep fully dressed. She hadn't slept at the Weasley's – sharing a room with Ginny had been hell. Apparently the entire Weasley family snored and it was testament to how frazzled her nerves were that she only thought of using a silencing spell after she'd left their house.
She didn't even have the energy to explore her little set of rooms, but really couldn't allow herself to fall asleep. The rest of the students weren't back for another week, but Harry, Ron and Ginny had accompanied her to school early and she'd promised to meet them downstairs for a game of cards.
If it was Snap they were playing, she was going to go straight back to her rooms to hide. Her head couldn't handle all that exploding...
How on earth was she supposed to do this? Draco would be looking for ways to hurt her at every turn, and she somehow had to make him into a nice person. Draco Malfoy! It just wasn't going to happen. Even if suddenly decided to embrace fluffy bunnies and rainbows and turned against Voldemort, he'd have to go into hiding himself. He'd be in even more danger than she was. Why would he even consider doing that? It was completely pointless even trying. But she had to.
There was a knock on the door.
"Mione!"
As she walked towards the door, she noticed a small black button to the side right of it. She hadn't noticed it before, being too exhausted to take anything in when she'd practically crawled into her Head Girl's quarters and flopped onto the bed.
"Hang on, Ron."
She scrambled off the bed and padded over to the door. She reached out and pressed the button, hoping it wouldn't cause Ron to fall down a trapdoor or anything.
It didn't. As she pressed it, the door disappeared and she could see Ron standing there, in jeans and a t-shirt that said, "I'm With Stupid". No one knew who 'stupid' was meant to be, but Hermione hoped that Draco and his gang never caught sight of it, or they'd never hear the end of it. Last Christmas George had thought it highly amusing to enchant all of Harry's t-shirts to flash the word 'stupid' intermittently in large writing. He really hadn't been amused.
None of the students were wearing their school robes while it was still technically the holidays and it was interesting to see what the Weasleys called 'normal' clothes.
Very sci-fi, she thought, walking through the doorway and smiling at Ron.
"Ouch!" she yelped, walking into something solid. She rubbed her nose and glowered at the door.
I bet Snape did this, she thought viciously. The bastard.
"Erm... what are you doing in there?" Ron asked, pressing his ear to... well, it must have been the door. The invisible door.
"Neat trick," she muttered, waving her wand to open the door that wasn't there. As it swung open, it suddenly became visible again.
"Now that's better than one of those Muggle spy hole things," she said, still rubbing her sore nose.
"It's not even term yet and you've already gone off your rocker," Ron said, looking confused. "Bet you've been studying for your NEWTS all the time you haven't been with me over the summer, haven't you?"
She had, but that wasn't the point.
"Do you have any idea how much we have to know for each of our NEWTS, Ron? I was reading over the syllabus for Charms and for that subject alone we have to..."
"Alright, alright!" Ron said, grabbing her hand and pulling her down the stairs with him. "Lecture me when the term starts. It's still the holidays."
"Are you telling me you haven't opened one book? All summer?" Hermione asked, incredulously. She'd read all the books they'd be working on this term, and more. "How do you pass anything?!"
"I've got a very clever girlfriend who forces me to study," Ron said smiling and pecking her on the lips.
She smiled weakly.
After six games of Rummy and four games of Exploding Snap, Hermione felt she was entitled to tear herself away from the boys and Ginny for the night. She kissed Ron goodnight, keeping her eyes open this time to stop her mind doing anything scary; and hugged Harry, who squeezed her shoulder and told her to yell if she needed anything.
Ginny blew her a kiss, before returning to a very intense game of 'Exploding Solitaire.'
After warding her door with every possible charm she could think of, wishing she dared to ask Professor Snape about that charm he'd used, she explored her new chambers.
They were small, but made up for that with their beauty. There were three rooms; a bathroom, a bedroom and a very small sitting room. Her bathroom had a large, sunken bathtub, which made Hermione long to fill it and sink into some incredibly warm and frothy water. The tiny living room had shelves for her books and a Muggle television and DVD player in the corner.
Albus Dumbledore, you are an amazing man, she thought to herself as she noticed that a few of Albus' own collection of DVDs had been put next to the television. She wondered how many people knew about the Headmaster's love of movies and how many would faint in shock at the bizarre sight of him actually using a DVD player. It was like your mum being able to program the VCR – it just didn't seem right.
She put her old favourite 'Dirty Dancing' into the DVD player and curled up on the squidgy sofa. Who would have guessed Albus Dumbledore was a 'Dirty Dancing' fan? She wondered if he knew any of the moves...
Scary thought.
She rested her head on one of the plush cushions. Now this was the life...
An incessant pecking noise at her window woke her up. She growled at it to go away and leave her in peace, before slowly dragging herself to her feet. A quick glance at the television screen told her that the film had long since finished and the goosebumps on her arms told her she should have conjured a blanket, or at least have cast some sort of warming charm before she'd got settled. God, she was cold.
"Alright, alright," she muttered, opening the window and letting even more cold air in. Trust Scotland to still be bloody freezing in the summer.
When the owl didn't fly in, she growled in annoyance. What on earth was it doing, just hovering out there? She put her hand through the open window and a tingle traveled up her arm.
Ah, magic.
The owl thankfully dropped the note into Hermione's hand the moment she stuck it out, then flew away with a disgruntled hoot.
Come to the dungeons immediately after breakfast tomorrow.
S.SShort and to the point. She wondered what he wanted. Did he want to apologize for what had happened? No... that wasn't very likely, was it? A very un-Snape-like thing to do. Hell would probably freeze over first. Mind you, it was pretty cold at the moment...
Was he going to yell at her? Now that was much more likely. A few snide and snarky comments and he'd probably be much more at ease with the situation. Not that he'd seemed ill at ease; he'd just been... cold.
She wondered if there was any chance he wanted to make love again and tried to decide if she'd even want to.
Of course she wouldn't. Why would she? It was a mistake. A one-time thing. Emotions had been high. Very sexy chests, and thighs, and arms had been within touching distance...
Gah!
She quickly put the thoughts out of her head with a snort. He had obviously regretted what had happened between them; so much so that he had barely even been civil to her as she left his house.
Bastard, bastard, bastard.
She'd slept with her teacher. And enjoyed it. And now she was as confused as hell and it was all his fault! Part of her hated him and part of her felt so sorry for him. And part of her wanted him to get very, very naked.
And part of her wanted to tattoo 'Bastard' on his forehead... Hmm... tempting.
He'd been so different when they'd been at his house alone together. He'd been more... human. He'd let her see a little piece of him and left her wanting more. Then he'd closed his mind like a large, Snape-shaped hardback book, trapping her fingers in it as he did so.
She picked up a cushion off the sofa and screamed into it, before throwing it back down and storming through to her bedroom. She stripped off every stitch of clothing and searched through her case for a t-shirt to sleep in, shivering with the cold.
Bugger him, she thought. I'm going to go to bed and stop thinking about him.
"Miss Granger?"
She yelped, snatched the cover up off her bed and quickly wrapped it around herself. The voice was coming from the doorway of her living room and it sounded like...
No. It couldn't be.
How had he managed to get past all the wards she knew Albus would have set up for her?
It the few seconds it took for her to recover from the shock and to decide that she really wasn't still asleep on the sofa, the door had opened. There in the doorway stood the unmoving form of her Potions Master, his wand out and pointed at her.
The bastard.
He actually looked even more intimidating than he usually did, down in his dungeons. His face was hard and his eyes flashed. It had been days since she'd seen him last; days she'd had to tell herself that she didn't care that he'd been so cold with her.
And she still didn't care. Really.
His eyes landed on Hermione and he lowered his wand slightly.
"What is wrong, Miss Granger?" he asked, his voice silky and smooth.
"Wrong?" she asked, pulling the cover tighter around herself. He wasn't going to get to her.
What on earth was he doing here?
"Your emotions were high. You screamed." His tone was impatient and he didn't come any closer to her, speaking to her from the doorway.
"My emotions?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide. There was no way he could have known she was thinking about him...?
He sighed and slid his wand back into his pocket.
"I erected a warning system, or rather the headmaster did. When you are scared or your emotions are high, I am alerted."
"Alerted how?" she asked, feeling apprehensive. Okay, she was in danger, but wasn't this a little extreme?
"I feel what you're feeling, but only when your emotions reach a certain level."
An awful thought occurred to Herimone.
"Every emotion?" she asked quietly, biting her lip.
Severus winced, knowing what she was asking.
"Yes, every emotion. I haven't come up with a way to cut out other... erroneous emotions."
Hermione groaned, sitting on the bed in the center of the room and leaning forward so her hair swung forward to cover her face.
"The only emotions I felt were frustration and a little fear," Severus tried to reassure her. "I overreacted, I suppose. Or it is too sensitive. I don't know – this charm is new to me."
He hated not knowing anything and made up his mind to do something awful to Albus Dumbledore. Maybe give him horns and a pointy Devil's tail that would only be removed when he had participated in copious amounts of sex with Filch. And Mrs Norris. A very sexy threesome...
He pulled a disgusted face.
"How did you know I screamed?" she asked, suspiciously.
"At a certain level of emotion, I can hear you speak. It's all part of the charm."
"Is this really necessary, Professor?" she asked, wishing she'd waited an extra two minutes to get undressed. It was difficult to talk to the man when she was dressed like this. Didn't he notice she was sitting talking to him, wrapped in nothing but a red and gold bedcover?
Severus had most definitely noticed. He was having trouble concentrating on what she was saying every time the sheet slipped just a little lower...
He looked at her face, ordering his eyes to go no lower.
Except his eyes were so traitorous when they wanted to be. If the sheet would slip just half an inch further...
"Professor?"
Severus blinked. Oh, she'd asked him something.
"The protective charm was Albus' idea, Miss Granger," Severus assured her, not wanting her to think he'd used the charm to spy on her. "He chose to attach it to me because he thought that I would be preferable to either him, or Professor McGonagall."
"Oh," she said, stupidly. "Right..."
"If you would rather it was attached to one of your other professors it can be arranged."
Hermione thought about Dumbledore feeling how she felt when she got horny in bed at night and shuddered. That was just wrong. Or Professor McGonagall, with her serious face and her strong sense of propriety. God, no.
"No, it's okay," she said after a minute.
It was not even slightly okay. In fact, it was the least okay thing that had ever happened to her. She was going to have to talk to Albus.
Severus couldn't decide whether to be relieved or annoyed. He hadn't wanted to be near the girl, and now he could feel her every time she was annoyed or upset. He was near her constantly and had no choice in the matter.
Thank Merlin it was only when she was in these quarters – he wasn't sure he could cope with that all day, every day. He could feel her a lot more than he'd let on. He'd felt her nostalgia a few hours earlier and her happiness as she'd settled down on the sofa. He'd even sensed she was cold when she woke up a few minutes earlier and had forced himself to suppress the urge to conjure her a warm blanket.
He winced, realizing that he'd probably woken her up with his owl. Not everyone had insomnia and stalked about all night, he reminded himself.
He'd have to have a word with Albus about having the charm made a little less sensitive. He was sure that even Albus would see how inappropriate this situation was if the charm couldn't be altered.
"If you could refrain from having bouts of hysteria until I have had a chance to speak to Professor Dumbledore, it would be much appreciated," Severus said, coldly, before sweeping out of her bedroom.
Hermione followed him, still clinging tightly to her cover. He'd gone.
"Bastard," she muttered under her breath.
How had he got in? There was no fire and no one could Apparate on Hogwarts grounds. She ran her hands over the shelves and walls, feeling for a breech in the protective charms and finding none.
Bloody Severus Snape.
The bastard.
