"Miss Granger." Black inky eyes looking up at the pale, milky white skinned girl who stood before him, parchment clutched in her small, slender hand. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He questioned with a sneer, dropping his quill on his desk with an almost silent clatter.
"Nothing is wrong, Sir." Pink lips smiled sweetly at him as she dropped the rolled up parchment on his desk silently. "Just handing in my homework before class, Sir."
"It better not be a foot over length like last bloody time. I have better things to do with my life than read the ramblings of your mind on a subject I am more than well schooled in." Unrolling the parchment to peruse over it, he sighed haughtily. A fucking foot and a half over the allocated measurement, why did she have to fucking rub him the wrong fucking way all of the time.
"How many times have I asked you to keep your homework to the allotted length?" He snapped at her, coal black hair falling into his eyes, annoyance etched into his voice.
"Let's see, every school week for the past seven years. I will leave that to your great mind to work out how often that is." She smiled sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes a little too forcefully.
"And tell me, why do you continue to go against the grain and hand me oversized parchment week after bloody week?" The frustration was apparent as he slammed his fists hard on his desk, causing the brown-haired witch to jump backward in fright.
"Is it better to not write more than to not write enough?" She cocked her head to the side innocently.
He didn't even answer her, in one swift move her tore the extra length off the parchment, rolled it into a tight ball and threw it with force across the classroom; it landed with silence a few feet away from them.
Hermione's face fell, did he just destroy her homework!? Her mouth opened and closed a few times but only a small-strangled yelp managed to find its way out. She had nothing to say.
"You know what? I am not even going to read it. I am just going to mark it right here, right now."
He plucked his quill back up off the desk, dipping it into the blood-red ink and angrily penning a large 100/100 Across her parchment with such force, the tip of the quill almost tore the paper beneath it.
"You didn't even read it!" She protested with a stamp of her small, leather-clad foot, showing her frustrations. "And you destroyed half of it. That was my conclusion on the Sleep Potion we brewed last class," She said matter of factly, looking at him with disbelief in her eyes.
"I didn't have to read it, Miss Granger," He deadpanned, black eyes flicking to meet her brown ones filled with anger and frustrations over what he had just done.
"What's the point of reading the bloody thing? We all know it will be fucking perfect as always and I would waste my time reading it just to give you the coveted you so desperately seek to fill the empty void in your life that was left by your friends. To give you the perfect mark that you so desire to elevate you above your peers, and boost your already over-inflated ego." He sneered at her with ferocity. She looked almost offended.
"I'm so sorry my perfection to my work bothers you," She snapped hard at him.
"And I'm so sorry that I have no redeeming qualities what so ever. I'm so sorry that I am such a terrible person and I have done wretched things in my life. I am so sorry that Hermione fucking Granger doesn't want help when she is so clearly troubled. You are right, I have no redeeming qualities and I have done nary a fucking thing nice in my life, and you know what, I don't fucking care. Clearly all of the times I saved your fucking life and the life of your so-called friends who have all but upped and deserted you meant nothing."
His breath was hard and jagged as he stood up behind his desk, glowering over the top of Hermione. She could see his chest rising and falling in quick succession; she bit her bottom lip in worry. She had seen him pissed off before, but never to this extent.
She wrinkled her nose up at the smell of whiskey hot and heavy on his breath assaulted her senses, lingering with the smell of tobacco made her want to back away, but she stood her ground, jutting her chin out defiantly at him.
"Fifty fucking points from Gryffindor for being such a snarky, rude little bitch," He spat venomously at her.
A lump formed in her throat as if she were going to cry, but she wouldn't let tears spill from her eyes, she didn't care anymore. She didn't care if she back-talked to a teacher, she didn't care if she got kicked out of the bloody school. No longer was she the doormat she had always been, no longer was she the stickler for the rules, it was time for her to live her life how she wanted to, and not how others told her how to do it.
She was quite taken aback that he had sworn at her, never, in her years of knowing him had he ever slipped in any such words. Never. Not even the time Neville spilled an entire cauldron full of Confusing Concoction all over him and for the next half an hour of the class, he had no idea who he was, or why any of them where there.
"I guess the Snarky rudeness has rubbed off of you and onto me then." She folded her arms tight across her chest, pulling self up to full height. Eyes locked onto each other in a silent battle, each willing the other to look away so they could be the victor of the battle, but neither did. Both were too pig-headed and proud to look away. Both had to have the last say.
The tension was thick in the room and for one fleeting moment, Hermione thought she was in way deeper than she ought to be and was having regrets. How could she do this, how could she speak to a professor in the tone in which she had just spoken to him in? Even if she didn't agree with the things he had done and thought his moral compass had not only been broken but also stomped into a million pieces for all of the vile and depraved things he had done.
"Fifty points from Slytherin for being such an asshole," She snapped with defiance in her eyes. It was at that moment she saw something flicker deep within his eyes, something had emerged from the lowest depths of his soul, she wasn't sure what it was but something stirred within him and she wasn't sure if she should laugh or be very, very afraid. The look that crossed his eyes only for a few seconds but it was one she had never seen before. It was one that sent an icy chill up her spine and made her balk for just a moment.
He cocked his head to the side as if processing in his brain what she had just said to him. Did the wretched bitch dare backchat and give him such attitude? She was treading on the dangerous and unstable ground right now, one wrong move and it could all be over for her. She was walking a blurred path between teacher and student, and what was right and what was wrong. To show such disrespect for him in such the capacity in which she was doing was dangerous. He would never let anyone talk to him in such a way, not now, not ever, but there was something intriguing about the girl, something familiar in the way she acted. The way she pushed the boundaries, the way she kept everything hidden inside protected and locked up tight. She reminded him of him in more ways than one. She had piqued his interest somewhat and he wanted to see how this would all play out.
Right before his eyes, the little Gryffindor cub was shedding her baby fur and emerging into the ever-powerful lioness, the lioness that would stand her ground and protect all that mattered to her and take no shit from anyone or anything. The lioness who would rule her own world and do as she pleases.
"One hundred points from Gryffindor for such defiance and rudeness beyond measure," He snapped slamming the palms of his hands against the desk, the sound of flesh on wood reverberated in the thick air that shrouded them leaning across his desk towards her.
She mimicked him, slamming her own palms on the table albeit quieter than he had offered, leaning in their noses almost touching her face arranged into a look of pure disgust mixed with disbelief and she bit her tongue hard between her teeth so as to try to stop her mouth from blurting something out without first filtering it in her mind. Nostrils flared with anger for not only him but also herself for putting herself in this situation and losing points for her house.
"One Million points from Slytherin for having a pompous, condescending, vindictive head of house," She whispered, her hot breath hitting his face as he slowly closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling of another so close to him.
The corners of his lips twitched into a smile as a deep laughed erupted from within him, still keeping their closeness.
"A million, really? He cocked a brow at her stupidity and petulance.
"Yes, A million."
"Well, aren't we lucky then that your point deductions count for nothing and mine actually do." His face contorted into an evil sneer, his ears picking up faint footsteps heading their way. He pulled himself up to full height, folded his arms across his chest just a Draco Malfoy sashayed into the room.
"We will finish this later, detention every night for the next week. That attitude and razor-sharp tongue need an adjustment and your blatant disregard for the rules honestly pain me, Miss Granger. Be here at eight tonight."
"Fine!" She bit as she turned on her heel walking to her desk and throwing herself into the chair with force, seething at what had just unfolded.
-o-o-o-o-
Severus sat in his small living room, ankles crossed and eyes closed, regretting his decision to give the little swot a detention because now it meant he had to spend even more time with the little Harlot.
He fished a small vial off of his coffee table, popped the cork and downed the small measure of vodka in one swift mouthful. He wondered if it would be socially acceptable to drink in front of a student because Merlin's hairy nutsack, he was going to need it if he had to put up with that bitch for much longer. Who did she think she was pushing the boundaries and standing up for herself?
He had turned to alcohol to help him through day-to-day life now for quite a while and he honestly didn't think he could face each day without some sort of liquor coursing through his veins and giving him some sanity to deal with everyone, but even the alcohol was having less effect when he had to deal with the little trollop that was Hermione Granger. She knew how to grind on his nerves and rub him the wrong way, he was sure that she had been practicing for years just to make his life a misery.
He was pretty sure with the amount of alcohol he was consuming, he no longer had blood in his veins, he had pure alcohol coursing through them and he was amazed he hadn't fucking burst into flames and burnt to death by now.
Casting an eye to the clock on the wall he stood up and stretched, the little bitch would be in for her detention any time soon and he should go see to her.
He was surprised to see her sitting on the edge of his desk in her uniform, legs swinging carelessly as she stared into space. Of course, she was five minutes early, she was always fucking early and it drove him mental. Why did she have to be such an overachiever? Why couldn't she just be… Normal?
"Miss Granger," His deep baritone drawled as he stepped into the room, she jumped slighting, pulled from her reverie as he strode purposefully into the room.
"Professor," she squeaked in surprise.
"Please vacate the edge of my desk, it is not for sitting on."
"Right, yes, sorry." She slid off the edge silently waiting for instruction on what to do next.
"Please, go through the shelves at the back and re-organize them. Anything out of date or anything that doesn't look right, throw it in the bin. If you are unsure about anything, just ask, I will be here marking homework."
"Oh, I am glad other people get their homework marked correctly," She smiled with total sarcasm and hatred and she instantly saw his demeanor change.
He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. Forgot one bottle, he would need the whole fucking distillery to get through just this one night. Maybe he should take to brewing alcohol instead of potions; the good Lord knew he would get more benefit from that than the potions he crafted.
"Why must you test my patience, Miss Granger? I am not in the mood to deal with you tonight, or tomorrow or any day. I have had my fill of your petulance and your blatant disregard for anyone and I just need you to act normal. Please. Just go do what I have asked and we will get along just fine. You don't need to get into a sparring match every damn time we are near one another. It doesn't suit you and it tires me so."
"I just need to keep letting you know how much I dislike you."
"I get it. I really do," His voice even and calm. "You hate me, I hate you. I am glad that is out in the open now because now we can both move on knowing we both share the same feelings for one another," he snapped a little too sarcastically.
She wanted to yell at him and to scream at him. She wanted to cry and she wanted to fall to the floor in a heap and sob and let out all that was troubling her, but she was too strong for that, instead she berated him, she tried to tear down his own self-confidence in a bid to raise her own. If the truth was to be known… Sparring with him was like a therapy for her, it released her anger and her frustrations, and he wouldn't lie, he may like it a little more than he should have. He liked the fire the girl had within her and he liked she wasn't scared and she never backed down. If anyone else had spoken to him in the same manner she had, they would have been dealt with in a heavier handed method than what he was showing her right now.
"I don't hate you," She offered.
"Really?" he quirked a single brow in question. She had a funny way of showing she didn't hate someone.
"I hate things about you, and I hate the way you treat people. I hate the way you are so abrasive and short-fused, but you have done some noble things in your time I guess." She shrugged as she sat back down on the edge of his wooden desk again.
Well, his shelves weren't getting sorted out tonight he mused as he watched the girl staring at him intently as if waiting to hear his thoughts on the matter.
"Well, well, well. Hasn't your attitude taken a sharp left turn? Last night you said I had no redeeming qualities, and now you are telling me I have done noble things in my lifetime. What is it Miss Granger, am I noble, or am I so depraved and vile that there is no redemption for my soul?"
Deep thought crossed her face for a moment. She couldn't believe she was sitting here talking to him like an equal and he to her. It was… Strange but she weirdly liked it. Perhaps she could hold a conversation with Professor Snape and he wasn't as bad as she had been led to believe.
"I don't know." She tapped her lip in deep thought for a moment, wondering if perhaps the man could be redeemed and deserved to live a life just like everyone else.
"You know what I think about you, Miss Granger?"
She tilted her head to the side in wonder as he continued on. "I think you are a scared girl who tries to be brave and put on a false façade and puff yourself up to those around you think you are stronger than you really are. I am certain that you are heartbroken your friends no longer contact you and pretend you exist. And I am positive you lie in bed at night with hot tears and heavy sobs ripping through your core. And I just know that you single-handedly blame yourself for every drop of innocent blood that was spilled in our war."
He folded his arms coolly across his chest as he watched her expression change from confusion, to realization and flash to sadness.
"Is it that obvious?" Her words a ghostly whisper to his ears.
"To me, yes. Because Miss Granger… You and I are more alike than you would think." He rested a comforting hand on her shoulder as she looked up into his eyes with uncertainty. Could she trust him, was this just a ruse to get her to open up to him so he could sneer at her and use her as the butt of his jokes? Tears pricked her eyes that for once, someone got her. Someone understood what was brewing deep beneath her surface and behind the false façade.
A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews. Thank you to the ones who pointed out I had the wrong twin who died (in my head I wrote the right one…In the story…Obviously not. And I got Occlumency and Legilimency mixed up. Please forgive me, I wrote it when I had the flu and couldn't think straight.
There also seems to be some confusion as to when this was set. It's set after the war, but Severus survived and Hermione has come back to finish her seventh year (which is not her eighth). I hope that clears that up. And Severus is no long headmaster because the ministry is no longer under Voldemorts control, so Miverva now runs the school.
I belted this chapter out in an hour, I had quite a lot of muse tonight. I hope you enjoy it.
-Aliasmel1