Chapter 7: Weaknesses define us

Severus sat there, completely transfixed by the young witch in front of him. He sat in a comfortable black chair, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. Never before had he ever felt the need to listen to someone speak. Her words were spellbinding and he couldn't help but nod and comment at the appropriate times.

"When I was eleven, and got the letter that I was going to come here, my mum nearly died. She couldn't believe it. She is probably the most down-to-earth, serious person I have ever known... and for her to think that there was an entire society of witches and wizards out there seemed preposterous to her." Hermione said, speaking of her childhood.

"I see where you get it from then." Snape said, interrupting.

"Hmm?"

"Oh, you are so serious sometimes. And you're so damn practical. I now know that you received that particular trait from your mother." He said, hoping she'd continue her story.

"And you're not those things?" Hermione said, cocking her head to the side, and staring at him.

"I never said I wasn't." She smiled at this and went on with her anecdote.

"Well, my father acted completely different. He told my mother, 'Now Karen dear; she's a young, smart girl. I know that this whole thing may seem a little hokey... but if it's true, it means that our wonderful little girl could have the chance that so many in our world are deprived of even knowing'. The idea that I would gain an education that my peers would not was what won my mother over. My dad, he created all these fantasies and plans for me as a witch. After my first year he was asking me how to solve ordinary problems such as traffic and laundry. I found it quite amusing." She began to laugh at this point. Tears began to well up in her eyes. Memories, especially about her parents, who she saw so rarely, were especially hard for her to tell.

"You don't have to tell me any more." He said, seeing her slight show of emotion. He looked away, knowing that she did not want him to see her cry. Hermione quickly wiped the few stray tears away and put a smile on.

"Why don't you tell me a little about you?" She urged him.

"There is nothing interesting about me." He said, closing the subject.

"Professor, I'm sorry, but if we are going to be forced to spend all this time together, until we solve why we've been meeting, than I think a little bit about ourselves may help." She said, logically.

He pondered this for a moment, knowing she was right. He feared letting people into his past, because it was a dark place. He definitely didn't want a young, arrogantly smart student of his to know anything. She gave him a look, pleading him with her eyes to tell her something. Severus sighed melodramatically, and then he spoke.

"I was born to two parents. A witch mother and a muggle father. We did not live happily ever after. The end." He said, trying his hardest not to be his bad-tempered self.

Hermione simply nodded, not wanting to push him farther into seclusion. She thought that their dreams did not normally last this long and wondered why this one seemed to drag on.

"I've decided to be a healer when I graduate." She said, breaking the silence.

"Mhhmm. No teacher positions in your future? No more clinging to the books you so love?" He asked teasingly.

"I thought about that actually. If I were to be a teacher, I'd want to be a potions master. But I wouldn't want you to be out of a job." She replied, poking fun at him.

"Oh, that would never happen. Although you are smart, you could never match my level of intelligence." Severus said, smirking and puffing out his chest.

"Oh, my. My," Hermione said. "Why don't you pull that hubris of yours back in for a while?" She flashed him a smile. Severus scowled.

Hermione thought to herself, was she really successfully flirting with Professor Snape?

IIII

Grading papers, although tedious, was one of his favorite activities. Knowing that those smart aleck children failed was a great feeling. All of those young brats were just like the hundreds of peers who teased and ridiculed him in his youth, for merely being different. As far as Severus' knowledge went, it was supposed to be a good thing to be different.

For a moment his eyes settled in the distance. He wondered for a moment what Hermione's paper would say had she still been in his third year class, and wrote a paper about the effects of Veritaserum. Snape shook his head vigorously, trying to stop a daydream from starting. He could not stress to himself how dangerous it was to think about Granger in a way that was unlike a student. Not to mention the fact that it was Hermione Granger. She just happened to be one of the remaining causes to his deep unhappiness at Hogwarts.

IIII

The quill moved quickly over the parchment as though it needed no help from her hand. Her thoughts were pouring out onto the page as though they would never end. Hermione's hand began to cramp and as she slowed down, she began to re-read what she had written. Another list of things she had to do. Number one just happened to be: Find a way to get Professor Snape to speak of his past. After that she just scribbled about doing more research regarding the idea of dreamscapes.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Lavender's voice rang in her ears. "Always turning to books... one day they won't be able to help you..." She knew that Lavender had been right, but she continued to cling to her books. They provided a safe haven. The library was her sanctuary. A place only she seemed to be where she would always find knowledge and protection. What more could she ask for? Oh she could ask for a lot, she decided. Loneliness consumed her. Of course she had Harry, Ron, and Ginny. But they did not fulfill the part of her that needed to be understood as a girl.. no woman. It was so confusing to her. Becoming something that she couldn't really investigate. Hermione could always ask her mum, but knowing her sensible mother, she would receive an answer that reached the quality of a textbook: purely scientific. She needed something that would tell her how to act, how to solve tribulations. And lately, how to erase feelings for a man that she didn't dare think about. He was a man that would ultimately hurt her.

Snape's image flashed in her mind. He would scoff at her if he even knew what she was thinking about. He would be disgusted that a person so undeserving of his attention clung to it for her own sake. He would smirk in that evil, Slytherin way, and possibly laugh. Tell her that she was simply being a child and to become an adult.

Her quill began to write again. Last on her list: Change His view of me. How she would succeed in this, or even how she would attempt this, did not seem important at the moment.

IIII

Class began with the slamming of the dungeon door, and Harry and Ron groaned to know that another horrible Potions lesson was about to begin. Hermione was indifferent. She talked harmoniously with the two boys before Professor Snape walked to the front of class. As he raised his hand, asking for stillness, the room suddenly became quiet. Ron and Harry exchanged looks of dreariness. Hermione tried her hardest not to smile at the man commanding the silence.

Everyone slowly began to pull their heavy books from their bags, knowing that another difficult task was about to be set. As they all rustled endlessly, Snape began to write on the board.

Today's assignment:

The Sleeping Draught

Hermione finally settled with her book in front of her and a piece of spare parchment, just in case, when she glanced at the board. Her face became contorted with surprise. She finally controlled her facial expressions when she let her eyes roam the area for Snape. There he was, sitting calmly at his desk watching her. When their eyes met, Hermione smiled, and again he purely indicated agreement.