A/N: Here's chapter two with a bit of light smut. No Oliver in this one, but he'll be back next chapter.
Chapter 2:
She groaned, not wanting to believe this was real.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione. Really. I thought I knew what I was doing. All I had to do was drop it in, but I bloody went and messed that up. Your instructions had me second guessing myself. I figured, alright, obviously it can't be that simple… I'm sorry!" he exclaimed.
It was that bloody simple. All he literally had to do was pick up the ingredient and drop it in. He didn't have to stir, nor did he have to time it perfectly. There was a window of half an hour where he could simply drop it in. Pick it up and drop it in.
And that wasn't the worst of it. The worst part was that she now had to face Snape. He had been right, and he would hold it over her for the rest of her life (or at least the remainder of their apprenticeship). She wanted to blow Neville's brains out and then kill herself, for the alternative may as well be death.
And they said she had become a sadistic person, learning under Snape.
"It's alright, Neville. I understand where you may have been confused. It's not your fault. You do a very good job in the greenhouses, and I couldn't ask for anything more," she said, patting Neville on his back.
"I can't even imagine what the Professor's going to put you through," Neville said, moving his back against her hand as if he were a kitten. He may as well have purred for her.
Stupid boy. Thank the gods he was good at something, or else he would become the burden of the state. May as well label him as mentally handicapped. Her owl was more intelligent.
"Call him Severus, Neville. He's your colleague, and besides, what's he going to do? Take points?" she snorted. He probably would. But she wasn't going to let Neville know that. He was likely to actually commit suicide.
"He still scares me, Hermione. I don't know how you can call him that."
"I've been studying under him for four years. Those four years, before he announced his intent to retire and offered me the position, I was locked up with him day and night. During that time, Neville, he was cruel and insufferable, and he would sometimes literally curse me for my mistakes. And praise? Praise was something I came not to expect for my accomplishments. I fear not the man that strikes fear into the hearts of these students. In fact, I laugh at him," she exclaimed.
"You laugh at me?" asked a silky voice behind her.
He pulled out a chair and sat down next to her on the other side of Minerva, who had taken over the position of Headmistress when Snape announced that he wanted to continue teaching.
"I do," she confirmed, watching as Neville got up and practically ran out of the Great Hall.
Even though Neville had been a hero during the war, had saved countless of lives when at Hogwarts, and managed to be a surprisingly strict Herbology Professor, he was always reduced to that incompetent first year while around Snape.
"And pray tell, why is that?" he asked, a smirk coming onto his face.
"Hermione, don't encourage him," Minerva said, munching on French toast, her lips in a tight line.
"You're an usually cruel man who goes into the world pretending that he doesn't care what happens to his students when, in fact, you are as much of a savior of the wizarding world as Harry is, if not more. And I know for a fact that you keep tabs on particular students even when they leave Hogwarts. Also, I know for a fact that these favorites are generally not Slytherins. In fact, most of them are Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs," Hermione snarled, "and hell, you have to like me somewhat to have kept me around for four years!"
"My dear Hermione," Snape countered, "the only reason I've kept you here for these joyous four years is because I entered into a legal, binding four year agreement. If you want to speak about facts, ponder this: I am required, by school law, to take on an apprentice every twenty years, and I am approaching that mark quite soon. My options would have been to take on a complete imbecile or to pick a student who, despite not having natural ability, will work hard just to prove that she can do it without failure. The thought of having another student like you, even if it is twenty more years away, has caused me so much grief that I am taking an early retirement. Do not think for one moment that I find you enjoyable to be around because I hardly find you competent, Professor."
Ouch. Well, she had to admit that it made sense. She, in fact, had read through the school's laws per request of the governors (and also because she wanted to), and she remembered seeing that rule. She had assumed that Snape was somehow exempt, an assumption that, she realized, did not make sense.
Hermione sat there for a few seconds, shell-shocked. She had expected to win this argument, but it seemed that she would not.
"I'm finished; I'll see you during second period."
---
The third year Gryffindors and Slytherins annoyed her. There was a particular group of girls that she didn't want to teach half the time. One of them was particularly smart, and the other was particularly inept at potions making. The first girl, Mariska, was in Saint Mungo's because of severe Dragon Pox, and, suddenly, the second girl, Tally, had started failing all of her potions tests. This was not a coincidence, Hermione knew. She had done the same thing for Neville. However, the lab having to be evacuated three times in the past week because of toxic explosions was not something Hermione appreciated.
Especially not when she had to clean up the mess.
Besides that, students had all suddenly seemed to contract some sort of illness that was present only during potions class. That was not because Hermione was a cruel teacher like Snape. In fact, most of her students could openly be heard in the halls talking about how much more they enjoyed potions now. It was because they feared for their lives.
Hermione knew it was her own fault. Like Snape had not let her help Neville, she should not have let Mariska help Tally, because now the girl didn't know how to do anything. She wondered if she could brew a first year's potion. She highly doubted it.
As Hermione began to bang her head against the arm of her favorite sofa, she heard the door open.
"I see the classroom is cleaner than I left it this morning," Snape scoffed, walking into their shared rooms and standing opposite of where she was laying.
"Tally Evans," Hermione simply said, not having the courage to look at Snape.
"When Miss Hutchins comes back, perhaps you will not allow her to assist Miss Evans so much," Snape said, a dark laughter gracing his voice. "Or maybe I should build a lab off to the side to quarantine her."
"You've mocked me enough for today, Snape," Hermione said, turning her body so that her back was facing him.
That was a big no-no. It took two days into her first year of apprenticeship for Severus to poison her. It was only a week after that that she found half her textbooks destroyed. She hadn't even cleaned up the mess when she found that her potions supplies had also gone missing.
'Constant vigilance' was not something only Moody practiced. As a future potions' mistress, Hermione had lost all her trust in mankind. Snape had taught her to guard everything well and drink from her own flask. Turning your back meant that your things could be stolen- your research, your potions, your texts, your anything and everything.
"You silly girl. You will never survive teaching if you allow one student to ruin your life. You are nowhere near ready for this. I will take over your classes starting tomorrow," he growled.
Hermione jumped up immediately, the bottom of her jeans billowing since she did not have robes on. She was frustrated, but she was not ready to give up her classes. She only had a small, precious amount of time left before she had to teach on her own fulltime. Was Snape planning on giving her the boot? Maybe permanently?
No, Minerva wouldn't let him do that.
"You're an ass, Snape. I'm not letting one student ruin my life. The only one who is ruining it is you. If I come to hate the students, it's because of you," she shouted, glad to finally get that across.
Snape's face was impassive as he considered her words for a moment. Then, he grabbed her arm and yanked her up. Hermione wasn't expecting it and fell straight into his body. It took her only a split second to register that his lips were on hers and she had instinctively began to kiss him back.
She pushed him away, her lips turning into a snarl, her already flushed face becoming even redder. "I'm angry with you for being so harsh with me this morning!" she screeched.
"You deserved it, witch. You were being incorrigible. Now, silence."
He had crossed the gap between them again and began to kiss her, his tongue slipping easily between her lips, something he was very comfortable with doing. Hermione's hands remained at her side in defiance, but her tongue ran against his with the same fury his did.
She was definitely still angry with him, she confirmed, feeling herself being pushed into a bedroom with black silk sheets and deep blue walls. This wasn't the first time she was in this room which happened to be the bedroom of the man who was now kissing her neck.
Definitely angry, she said in her head once more for prosperity as his wand found their bodies and magically stripped them. Snape was not ashamed of his lanky body, his skin tight in places it should've been drooping by now, his stomach oddly toned and flat unlike her own which had a slight bump to it. His body was even paler than his face, and it glowed from the light from the adjoining room.
He was graceful as he lifted her body onto the bed, on top of the sheets. Wasting no time with frivolous exploration, Severus's hand found its way to her inner thighs as he laid next to her, kissing her lips once again.
Hermione gasped, as she always did, when Severus's hand found its way to the lips covering her opening. Her mind stopped wandering as she closed her eyes, freeing her hair of the pony tail she had been sporting with one hand, her other hand finding its way to his back. The sensation of him rubbing one long digit teasingly around her clit while kissing her furtively caused an overload of senses for her.
It did not take her long to climax, but then again, it never did with him. Just as his hand and his mouth left her body simultaneously, he positioned himself and entered her swiftly. His cock stroked her inner walls while they were still pulsing from her orgasm. He lowered his head to see himself pounding into her for only a moment before she could feel his eyes on her.
She opened her eyes as she always did, searching the depths of his soul for any trace of emotion. She knew it was pointless and resigned to closing her eyes and throwing her head back. The springs of the bed creaked from the deep strokes Snape was taking. He was fucking her into the mattress, and she loved it.
When Snape pulled out, he yanked the sheets out from underneath him and covered himself, ready for an afternoon nap.
"I'm still mad at you," Hermione said defiantly.
"I'll be sure to mull that over as you leave my room. I don't need your incessant after-babble," he said, rolling over onto his stomach, completely ignoring her.
Hermione didn't give him the pleasure of indignation. She simply got up, took her wand from the jeans that were discarded on the floor, and silently cursed a pink patch of hair onto the back of his head.
He wouldn't notice.
A/N: Voila! I hope you liked it. Right now, this story isn't doing too well with reviews and whatnot so... I dunno. We'll see how long I decide to make it.