The Half Blood Prince
Vs
The Know-All Queen
Kiss and Don't Tell
I stumble backwards. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry! I- that wasn't meant to- I didn't mean- I'm really sorry." Still backing up, I fall back on to the couch I had previously been asleep on. Why or maybe a better question is how did this get so for into the realms of surrealism? If I had woken up this morning - I glance at the clock and correct myself - yesterday morning and someone had told me that I would be playing tonsil tennis with Severus Snape, I would have had them carted off to St. Mungo's psychiatric ward. Snape is straightening his robes and looking his usual sombre self, if he could exclude the pink tinge on his cheek. Daylight breaks through the curtains in his window.
"Well," he replies. "I'm very grateful for the card and the present, Gran-," he corrects himself, "Hermione, but I do think that it's time to start getting ready for the coming day. So if you don't mind, I expect I shall see you at breakfast." He gestures toward the door. I suppose that showing his emotion in such an open manner like that was very unlike him, and in the politest way possible he was now saying 'this is a very awkward situation, so if you don't mind, can you please just piss off?'
"Right!" I say a little too brightly. "Well, Happy Birthday then, Severus." Calling each other by our surnames and pretending that nothing happened is preferable, but unfortunately completely unachievable. I move to shake hands, however after the brief encounter of an intimate kind, it seems too formal. A kiss then? No way, not after that last debacle. I settle on a hug; whilst he is as admittedly as cuddly as the Whomping Willow, it seems like the best thing to do. I give him a small hug with my head resting on his shoulder and notice his smell. It's clean. Not like anything really, just clean; it's quite unnatural. Very possibly through fear, he remains as rigid as a plank of wood and as my chin balances on his shoulder, he politely pats me on mine. "Good bye." I say and calmly walk out of his living room. I slowly close the door behind me and sprint to my chambers, at a pace that would shame an Olympian.
ooo000ooo
The door shuts behind me and for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, I once again look up at the clock; it's four in the morning. In the space of three and a half hours, I have totally ruined every conceivable chance of having a normal teaching year. I kissed him; I can't believe I kissed him. I'm stupid on a whole new level. Well I'm not stupid but it was certainly not the best way to start the school year. Giving up on everything except my friends, my family and my fire-whiskey, I decide to sleep now and think later.
ooo000ooo
The alarm wakes me up far too soon for my liking. I stumble out of bed, tie back my hair (which scarily now resembles Hagrid's so much so that I look like his long lost cousin,) and throw my robes on over my pyjamas; no one sees what's underneath them anyway. As I make my way down to the Great Hall I pass a few students who are whispering and pointing at me, wishing I had extendable ears right now. I can only presume that these are the very same students who saw me last night on my way to the dungeons miming to myself. My cheeks tinge pink and I hurry towards the Hall and take up the usual position at the end of the table. An awkward cough to my left tells me that Snape is sitting next to me.
"Morning," he says without even looking at me.
"Yes," I reply not looking at him either. "I've noticed." My usual breakfast of corn flakes and a glass of orange juice appears on the table before me, and I see Snape's lonesome black coffee has also arrived. Breakfast passes without much ado, but the uneasy tension in the air between us is so thick you could cut it with a knife. As I get out of my chair to leave so does Snape.
"I was going to say that if you move any slower you would be going backwards, but I suppose even that requires a greater velocity than you are currently travelling at," he growls at me. I purposely start to walk slower, just to annoy him. He swiftly moves to the side to over take me, and mutters, "So you think as quickly as you walk. I pity your students." Oh really Severus is that what you think? Well then, we shall see what my students make of you then.
"Actually, Severus," I say oh-so-sweetly. "I was wondering, could you stand in on one of my classes?" He stops dead in his tracks and his head whizzes round, not unlike a scene from the exorcist. He looks slightly homicidal and I almost have second thoughts about what I'm about to ask him. "It's for the N.E.W.T. students. I thought that as you had personal experience with Lor-," I stop myself from saying Voldemort's name. After killing Dumbledore, Snape had gouged the dark mark out of his forearm in Azkaban - "with the dark arts you would be the best person to ask, and maybe we could give them a demonstration duel?" I add to try to pique his interest.
"No," he says flatly
"Please?"
"I said no." Don't think you're out of this just yet Severus, I have other ways and means; I sigh loudly, heavily and very deliberately.
"Well, I suppose I could ask Ron to do it instead then." Walking past him to the corridor, I know I won't wait long for him to retaliate. That's Snape's problem; he simply cannot help himself, he always has the last word.
"Weasley?" he asks in amazement, "If you dislike your students that much, give them detention. I'm sure there will be no need to blow them to pieces with one of Weasley's spells." And there it is, the reply I knew I would get. Mentally I pat myself on the back.
"That was uncalled for; if you won't do it then I need to find someone who I can trust to perform a duel in the correct manner." I do trust Ron but after a furious row whilst we were still in a relationship, he accused me of having an affair with Viktor Krum after he discovered that we still contacted each other on a regular basis; we broke up and remained friends (well, most of the time anyway). "You duelled with Lockheart, didn't you? Do you think that I may prove to be more of a challenge then? Or maybe you think that you will be humiliated by me again. Is that why you won't duel me?" Oh gods, I just had to bring that up, didn't I? When Harry and Ron and I disarmed him a little too vigorously in the Shrieking Shack, knocking him out cold. That's it, Hermione, open your mouth a little wider, then you can fit both feet in.
"Here, 7:30," he spits and stalks away. I didn't want him to get riled up about it. Why couldn't he just agree? Probably because if you get everything you want, life still wouldn't be perfect, I chide myself.
ooo000ooo
"O.K. class, that's more or less it for our Saruday supplementary lesson. There will also be an extra study option tonight for those who would like to attend. Professor Snape and I will be performing a demonstration duel at 7:30 in the Great Hall. You are dismissed," I say, but there is none of the usual rustle of chairs and shuffling of feet. In fact, there is little noise at all. I look up from my desk an every single student is looking at me. I raise an eyebrow in question. "Are there any questions?" I ask knowing that I'm going to be besieged with the students' interrogation. I can see about ten people with raised hands, others waiting to see if their questions will be asked.
"The Potions Professor?" asks Vandisi. This is the reason why I was so surprised when she managed to out do Scrin, the new leader of the acromantula.
"Yes, the Potions Professor, Miss Vandisi. How many other Professors by the name of Snape do you know?" I reply testily.
"A demonstration duel? Will we be allowed to take part, Professor?" another student questions me.
"No you will not be taking part with me or Professor Snape, Mr. Alraque. You will be pairing off between yourselves and duelling with each other." I sigh. "I will see the rest of you at 7:30 in the Great Hall. Thank you." And I usher them out the door. This may be another idea I can put down on my ever growing list of 'Not to be done ever again, even if your life depends on it, it's such a bad idea'.