Chapter 26: Awkward Aftermath

Hermione's mouth felt almost disgustingly dry as she slowly descended the narrow stairs leading to the underground dungeons. It was a bitterly cold winter morning, but she nevertheless felt so awfully hot that the fitted, white blouse she was wearing underneath her grey jumper was practically glued to the skin of her back. The closer she got to that gloomy classroom she knew all too well, the harder her heart was pounding against her ribs.

His strong arms were wrapped around her torso so tightly that she could barely even breathe, and her mind was so overstimulated by the countless emotions it was trying to experience all at once that she really could not feel anything but paralysing numbness at first.

It had been two whole days since she had last seen the Potions Master. She still did not know what had got into her, still could not believe the way she had acted and spoken to him like he was a complete idiot and not her teacher. But after her conversation with Ginny, she had begun to desperately cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, he did really like her, too; that maybe, just maybe, they could really have something. And so, when he had then started to talk about how their kiss had been nothing but a grave misstep on his part, she had simply lost it. Never before had she been that upset in her life; however, in retrospect, she did feel a bit bad about her behaviour. But then again, she did not – after all, it had somehow worked, right?

When she finally broke, she certainly did not do so quietly. Violent sobs of pure relief started to ripple through her body, she simply could not help it, and he just held her. He held her for what felt like an eternity. Gently rocking back and forth, he soothingly whispered sweet nothings into her ear as his fingers played with the curls of her hair.

Before long, she arrived at the Potions classroom. As she sat down in her usual spot in the first row, she wiped the sweaty palms of her hands on the coarse fabric of her skirt. She did not know why she was so nervous. They were okay, weren't they?

Without warning, the protective bubble of silence that surrounded them was suddenly shattered by the school bell, making both of them jump. Within a matter of mere seconds, footsteps and loud chatter could be heard coming from the adjacent corridor. They made eye contact, and by the looks on each other's faces, it was clear that they both knew it would not be long before the first pupils would start to pour into the room.

"You need to leave!" he urged croakingly, pushing her towards the exit.

"But –"

"Not now, please!" he pleaded, his eyes wide open in shock. "Just go!"

She was completely taken aback by his frightened expression. Never in the almost seven years that she had known this man – a man who had spent two decades witnessing the absolute worst humanity had to offer under constant threats to his own life – had she ever seen him look scared before.

Until now.

And so, after another short moment of hesitation, she hurriedly turned around and bolted out the backdoor leading to his office.

When he finally entered the room, Hermione immediately tensed up. He looked the same as always, whirling robes and all, but she nevertheless could hardly bare to look at him. Her nerves were just that bad.

The black-haired man, on the other hand, did not seem bothered by her at all. In fact, he did not even shoot a single glance in her direction as he sat down at his desk.

"Today, you will be brewing the Invisibility Potion using the instructions which can be found on page 178 of your books," he said in that deliciously low voice of his, not even waiting for the teenagers to quiet down. "As always, additional directions can be found on the blackboard. You may start."

As Hermione walked to the supply closet to gather the needed ingredients, she could not help but feel a bit disappointed. She did not really know what she had expected – it obviously was not like he could just snog her in front of the whole class – but he had not acknowledged her at all, and that made her feel incredibly insecure. Maybe he was also just feeling a bit nervous, she tried telling herself.

Back at her work station, she started setting up her cauldron. She felt a bit silly for what she thought next; however, for only a split second, she was afraid that this had all been nothing but a dream, that he did not really like her back and that they perhaps had never even kissed, that it had all just been in her head. But slipping her right hand into the pocket of her skirt, she was quickly able to feel the rough edges of the tiny piece of paper he had sent to her the previous night, and so she knew that she had not been imagining any of this. Her head still somewhat filled with anxiousness and self-doubt, she began to brew.

The following day, she tried to go see him but could not find him anywhere – he was not in his classroom, his office or even his quarters, and he also did not attend a single meal in the Great Hall. By asking around, she soon found out that all of his classes had been cancelled for the day. Little by little, panic began to arise inside her; and the knowing gaze of her younger best friend also did not do anything to help the situation.

By the time it was midnight a few hours later, Hermione felt terribly tired; however, she still could not seem to fall asleep. Her mind just kept thinking of one horrible scenario after another: had she not left fast enough, causing a student to see her and report them? Had he changed his mind about their relationship and simply left without a word? Or perhaps none of this had anything to do with her at all and one of the few Death Eaters yet to be apprehended had decided to take their revenge on the traitor?

But just when she thought she was going to go completely insane with worry, a small school owl came flying into her suite through a window she had accidentally left opened, carrying nothing but a very short message:

Is me being out on unofficial Hogwarts business for just one day really such a great cause for concern?

A tingling feeling slowly spread through her chest. It was such a simple note, really, just one sentence. But even so, her heart felt incredibly happy knowing he cared enough to realise that his unexplained absence would alarm her. Reassured, she laid back down on her bed, and it did not take long before sleep overtook her, his letter still clenched in her hand.

About thirty minutes into the lesson, she could see him stand up out of the corners of her eyes, but she pretended not to notice. As she continued to concentrate on her potion, he slowly went around the room, checking everyone's progress and criticising their brewing.

Always the perfectionist, Hermione was working so diligently that she soon forgot about him making his rounds; and so when his large hand then suddenly found its way onto the small of her back, she had to quite literally bite her tongue to keep herself from yelping in surprise. Unbeknownst to her, her jumper and blouse had both ridden up, exposing some of her skin to his touch. The feeling of his fingers brushing against her was titillating.

Concerned, her eyes darted across the room, but everybody else was so focused on their work that they did not seem to notice how indecently close their professor had got to their classmate. She internally thanked the gods that only those students who were actually interested in Potions were still taking the subject in year seven – because there was no way that there would not have been some wandering eyes from a bored pupil or two in any pre-O.W.L. grade. Especially Harry and Ron, in their ever-suspicious nature, would have certainly caused a ruckus at such a sight. Fortunately, after already having witnessed their fair share of tragedies, both of them had long ago given up on their aspirations to become Aurors, and so they had dropped the class the previous year.

Severus slowly leaned forward until his chest met one of her shoulders, making her breathing hitch. His cheek was almost touching hers as he leisurely inspected the contents of her rusted cauldron.

"Perfect," he whispered, quiet enough so that only she could hear. "As always."

And with that, he pulled back and walked off, leaving behind nothing but a flustered Hermione as well as a burning sensation where his hand had caressed her.

When she entered the wizard's office about three hours later, she found him sitting at his large desk, with several scrolls of parchment surrounding him from all sides. At first, he did not even seem to notice her. His long, black robes draped over the back of his chair, he was wearing nothing but a long-sleeved dress shirt as he was completely immersed in writing whatever on the paper in front of him.

Having covertly observed him for a few seconds, Hermione eventually took another step into the room, and it was only then that he sensed her presence. Lifting his head, he looked at her with an oddly inscrutable face.

"Hello."

"Hi," she answered softly, painfully aware of her blazing red cheeks. "How are you today?"

"I am fine," he said, a strange twinkling in his dark eyes. "What about you?"

"I'm good."

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence.

"Well," Severus then cleared his voice. "I am just grading some essays from the sixth-years at the moment. Would you perhaps like to help me with that?"

"Okay."

And so, Hermione sat down, pulled up one of the scrolls and began the task. However, only a few minutes later, whilst they were both scribbling away, he suddenly spoke up again.

"And later, would you perhaps like to join me for supper in my rooms?" he asked calmly, his eyes never once leaving the parchment in front of him.

A faint smile appeared on her face. "Okay."