Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as she finally bottled her potion. That lesson had been... intense. Although it had only been two hours long, it had felt like much longer. She had been distracted, not focusing on her potion as she should have been, although it was still perfect at the end as she had been able to correct the small mistakes she had made while thinking of the strong presence she could feel at all times, mere metres away from her. Her heart rate had not slowed since the beginning of the lesson, the blush on her face hadn't receded and the heat in her groin had been a constant reminder of the irrational longing she felt for her potions master.
But was it really so irrational? She hadn't been able to keep herself from occasionally peeking up at him, feeling the need to know what he was doing at all times. And hadn't she sometimes caught him staring back at her, looking slightly confused, even discomposed when their eyes had met? He definitely wasn't being his usual, stoic, self...
She needed to understand him, needed to know what he was thinking! Why was he being so fair? Of course, he was still his old, sneering, snarky self, but now he was like that to the Slytherins as well! And hadn't she caught him smiling at dinner the night before? Again her stomach twisted when she remembered who he had smiled at. One day, she promised herself, that smile would be directed at her.
"Time is up" Snape said sneering again, but somehow he sounded slightly relieved. "Hand in your potions now, as pitiable as they may be." Ginny, Dean, Pansy and Draco all packed their things as quickly as possible, handed him their potions and then almost scurried out of the room, the latter sending his former favourite teacher a confused, angry glance, before slamming the door shut behind him in frustration, not noticing that Hermione was still in the classroom.
Apparently, neither did Snape. He sat himself down as the sound of the slammed door still echoed around the room, and gave a deep sigh. Hermione knew this was her opportunity. She grabbed her bottle and slowly made her way to the front, her footsteps alerting the Professor of her approach, startling him slightly. "Miss Granger! What are you still doing here?" He wasn't snarling. Why wasn't he snarling? He just looked surprised.
"Here's my potion sir." She waited for him to take it from her, and his fingers brushed hers lightly, shocking her with their softness and sending a spark straight to her crotch. Her knees almost buckled. She could have slapped herself for the ridiculous reaction she was having, but she simply couldn't help it. Snape didn't say anything, just sat there holding the bottle, until the usual glower on his face suddenly returned and he seemed to have remembered himself. "Well?" he snapped. Hermione just turned around and slowly started walking towards the door, desperate to say something, anything, but unable to think of anything to say.
She had just reached the door, feeling his gaze prickling her neck, when she remembered why it was closed. "Sir", she said, turning around. Snape's eyes darted up to hers. "Why did you treat Malfoy like the rest of us today?" There was a long pause. Snape was glaring at her again, his lip twisted, showing the disdain he clearly felt at her impertinent question. She held his gaze bravely, refusing to back down, her heart beating wildly in both fear and anticipation. She needed to discover the true man that was Severus Snape. She needed to know how he had done what he had, how he had given his whole life to save the whole of the Wizarding community. She wanted to thank him for everything he had ever done for her. But there was something else, something more... she just wanted him.
Hermione stood there for several long moments, staring into the black eyes of her Professor, wishing she could see what was going on behind them. Eventually she sighed and realised that it was impossible, he would never open up to her. He still hadn't responded to her question. So she turned from him, about to leave when suddenly he cleared his throat. She didn't dare turn around. "I am many things, Miss Granger. But I don't have favourites. Favouring Slytherins and humiliating Gryffindors was necessary during the war. Now I'm free and I will teach the way I wish to."
Hermione stood there, shocked. He had answered her question, he had opened up to her just a tiny bit, and now she knew more about him, the real him. All those years, he hadn't been a complete prejudiced bastard! A bastard, yes, but a fair one. She quickly turned back to him, smiled and said "I knew it!" and then she left the classroom quickly, knowing she would spend many more hours that evening thinking on what had happened.
...
Severus had no idea what had just happened. The lesson had been pure torture. He had been able to concentrate on nothing but Hermione Granger, the way her bushy hair had gradually been released from her bun, twining itself around her neck, the way she kept biting down on her lower lip, pulling it into her mouth and then releasing it again, the way she would regularly peek up at him through her dark lashes, blushing furiously... it had been driving him completely crazy.
And then that question, that impertinent, curious and insightful question. He hadn't known what to say. He was angry at himself for the inappropriate thoughts he had been directing at her beautiful bum retreating from his classroom, he was angry at himself for being hard. But he did know that he wanted her to be curious about him, that he wanted her to understand his motivations. And so he had answered the question as honestly as possible. He had expected her to leave after he had spoken, he had not expected the brilliant smile that had graced her lips when she had turned back to face him and he had not expected the cryptic response she had given before turning around once more and leaving the classroom, a tantalising wisp of hair the last part of her to disappear from his view.
Later that evening, Severus was once again sitting at the high table for dinner, pondering a certain bushy haired, chocolate eyed, Gryffindor. What had she meant with "I knew it!"? It didn't make sense, what had she known? Once again Professor Littleton was chattering away at his side, but he managed to drown her out, realising that he didn't care if she noticed his inattention. His gaze, thoughts and emotions were all settled on Hermione Granger at the Gryffindor table. She seemed particularly animated that evening, apparently deep in conversation with her group. However, just as she had in his potions lesson, she kept shooting furtive glances towards him, each time her eyes meeting his, causing his heart to stutter and his groin to twitch. He wasn't embarrassed that she had caught him staring each time, after all, he had caught her looking. She clearly wasn't indifferent to him. What she felt for him, Severus had no idea, but he was determined to find out.
...
Why is he staring at me? Hermione kept thinking all evening. She could feel his gaze on her constantly, and whenever she brought up enough courage to look at him, their eyes had always locked. The conversation around her was mainly uninteresting, until at one point the focus turned to Snape. Lavender told the others that apparently he had rejected the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher which he had been so obviously craving since they had begun school at Hogwarts. "But why would he even come back to Hogwarts?" Ron asked bewildered. "He's famous now... surely he could do anything with his life?" And so Hermione had ended up joining the speculative debate, always defending the Professor when someone would question his motives, but really, secretly, wishing she knew the answers to all those questions herself.
Perhaps she could find out the answers. He had, after all, answered her previous question about Malfoy, and clearly she interested him. Why else would he be watching her so incessantly? She was pleased to notice that he paid that prat Professor Littleton absolutely no attention. Once again she forced herself to look at him again, although she knew that he would catch her looking. This time when their eyes met, Hermione refused to rapidly look down again, as she had every other time that evening. She stared back at him, once again overwhelmed by the bewildering physical reaction she always seemed to have to him. The longer their eyes were connected, the darker his seemed to become and the more aroused she was. The crease between his eyes deepened and Hermione found it unbearably attractive. She had no idea how long she sat like that, staring, blushing, almost hyperventilating, but it was suddenly too much for her. She abruptly stood up, her chair making a loud scraping sound on the floor, and she hurried out of the hall, painfully aware of the surprised looks, and look, she must be receiving.
Hermione burst into the grounds through a side door and leant against the wall, breathing heavily, trying to force her heart rate to slow and her stomach to uncoil. What was happening to her? The situation felt so surreal, she had only been back in Hogwarts for a day, and yet it felt like it had been weeks of furtive glances, blushes and finally passionate stares...
She had only just managed to calm herself, when a large shadow fell over her. She recognised immediately who it belonged to, and her breathing hitched. She looked up at him, her eyes locking with his, in what now felt like an age-old ritual, and she smiled. He had sought her out, and the burst of happiness this caused her was expressed clearly on her face.
And then, with absolutely no warning, his mouth was on hers and his hands were on her arms, pinning her to the wall. His lips tugged at hers, his tongue explored her own and when she let out a loud gasp of pleasure and want, he groaned into her mouth. And then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone, leaving her gasping and aroused, leaning against the wall for the support her suddenly weak knees desperately needed.