A/N- Thanks for the fantastic responses! I have decided to keep on going with this one (the plot bunnies made me do it!), and am typing my little heart out whenever I've got the chance. Just got my results for this semester back, too. Am sooo upset! I was robbed of my HD (high distinction) for English Curriculum because of a bloody mistake (or two) on the exam (thus ended up on a Distinction…grr) and I am NOT impressed with my SOSE/History mark. I might actually go talk to the head of department, as I know I'm better than a simple 'Pass'…Not to mention the fact that our tutor had NO idea what she was doing…le sigh I. Hate. SOSE.
Anyway, on with the show…
"Dungbomb." Hermione spoke the password to her new chambers with a sigh. Her first day had been somewhat trying. After the business with Dumbledore, which was heart breaking in itself (after all, she'd loved and respected him as a mentor, only to discover that his sweet and doddering nature was a façade), Snape had stormed back towards the dungeons and she had rejoined her class, only to be met with gossip, whispers and cruel jibes. Following this, a mock-pregnancy charm was cast upon the childbearing half of the class, and the seventh years were briefed on what would be required of them for the remainder of the year.
Once released from Sexual Education hell, Hermione spent the day avoiding the stares of her peers and trying her very best to ignore the callous comments in class. She'd pointedly skipped all meals (choosing, instead, to hide in the relative safety of the library) and was relieved to be able to slip away into her private rooms whilst everyone else was at dinner.
Well, she thought as Goyle glanced up from the couch, almost everyone.
"Well, well, well…" He grinned up at her, in a friendly fashion. "Where've you been all day? Other than in classes, of course."
"Hiding." She replied, matter-of-factly, slipping down into the seat beside him.
He summoned an elf. "Please bring Miss Granger some dinner."
She rolled her eyes as the elf reappeared with a large platter of food. Famished, she ate it, then thanked her fellow Head.
"Not a problem," he responded, giving her a playful nudge. "Can't skip meals, now. You're eatin' for two, y'know."
"Oh, charming, Gregory."
He chuckled. "C'mon, Granger. Just tryin' to make you feel better. Cheer you up 'n all that…"
She sighed with a smile, and shook her head. "Sorry, Goyle…I might have found it amusing under other circumstances…" A vague recollection of the rest of the morning's events came back to her, and a slow, steady smirk spread across her lips. "Speaking of…Just how long have you been pining over our Mr Potter, hmmm?"
The Head Boy mirrored her smirk. "How long have you been pining over our Potions Prof.?"
Touché. She opened her mouth to deny it, but found that she no longer had the energy. Besides, Gregory Goyle, of all people, had all but admitted his attraction to Harry Potter. And it was nice having someone to talk to about such things... Until that moment, she hadn't realised how lonely she felt, not being able to talk freely about her feelings with Harry and Ron…
Though she barely knew Goyle, she felt comfortable and safe expressing herself…How sad it was that she couldn't say the same about her two best friends…
With a resigned shrug, she responded honestly. "A while, actually…I've been relatively aware of my..." she struggled to find an appropriate word, "...feelings, I suppose, since last year…Not that it makes a shred of difference, of course."
Goyle nodded, unfazed by her honesty. "Felt the same way meself, 'til this mornin'. You heard what they said; mutual attraction had to be present…I reckon I might be in with a bit of a chance, now." He leant backwards, folding his hands behind his head. "I didn't even know he liked men, to be honest."
Hermione smiled wearily. "I've had my suspicions…Ron was, as usual, oblivious."
He laughed and she felt some of the tension of the day fade away. Her mind began its usual process of sorting through the day's events, and, coming upon the memory of the faux-pregnancy charm, she placed her hand upon her stomach and asked; "So, which of you gets the distinct pleasure of experiencing some of the symptoms of pregnancy?"
"That would be me other 'alf." Goyle smirked. "Shoulda' heard 'im go off at that!"
She giggled. "One more thing to add to his list of things that make him different, I suppose."
They then began to discuss the merits of the subject in a more serious, academic fashion. They spoke about the new teacher of the class, McGonagall, and the pros and cons of having her lead them rather than Snape. They spoke about the importance of experiencing a mock pregnancy and child-rearing ordeal, as well as the general social skills the class would instil within them. They then moved onto a discussion about the specifics of the faux-pregnancy charm.
Hermione thought the charm was ingenious. The bearer would experience a rather rapid version of pregnancy. They would experience watered down symptoms and so forth, and would even be able to feel the 'child' growing inside, though no external signs of the ordeal would appear. As with normal pregnancy, the symptoms would vary from person to person, as would 'delivery' times. Generally, the spell would run its course after five full weeks, however, this could vary, depending on the bearer and how well they took care of themselves. 'Medical checkups' were to be performed in alternate classes, though nobody would know the gender of their child until they pulled a card from a hat after the mock birthing process - which was, of course, a series of extremely light contractions and not much else. After all, there were some things that were best left until the genuine experience.
Over the five weeks of 'gestation', the partners were required to get to know each other as closely as possible. It was this aspect of the assessment which Hermione dreaded. Professor Severus Snape wasn't exactly the most forthcoming person, nor did he seem the type to do tea and cakes and warm, lovey-dovey, chit-chat…especially not with his students! However, if it had to be done -which it did- Hermione would have to do her very best to get the man to open up to her. Which would be much easier said than done.
And so it was, then, that she found herself knocking on his office door on the next specifically designated spare.
"Enter." His voice commanded.
Pushing open the door, she did as told. "Professor Snape, I-"
"I know why you're here, Miss Granger. Shut the door and follow me."
Again, she complied without complaint. He led her into another room through a concealed doorway.
"My private quarters," he said by way of explanation, summoning tea and gesturing towards a well-worn couch. "Sit."
Feeling awkward, she smiled and accepted the proffered cup. "Thankyou, sir."
He was being awfully nice, for Snape that was, so Hermione was instantly on edge. His sneer signalled that he seemed to be able to read her thoughts -without legilimancy.
"Honestly, you silly girl, I don't bite." He refrained from adding the word 'much'.
Blushing furiously, she shook her head. "I know that, sir, but, I…" She sighed. "Forgive me, this is all just a bit awkward for me…"
"Indeed," he responded, glancing pointedly at her belly. "How are you feeling, physically?"
It had been three days since the charm had been administered, and students were beginning to complain about nausea, dizziness and faint spells.
Hermione smiled. "Nothing yet. Another day or so, I think…" She hesitated, considering things. "Unless, of course, I'm lucky enough to avoid the worst of it."
He nodded. "See me if that is not the case." After all, it wouldn't do to have the star pupil miss class for retching into the toilet.
She dipped her head in an odd combination of acknowledgement and embarrassment. "Thankyou…"
After another few moments of awkward silence, she continued. "Anyway, the task dictates that we should get to know one another somewhat." She crinkled her nose in distaste. "I find it highly inappropriate, to be honest with you, but…" She trailed off, shrugging. "There's no point fighting it now, is there?"
The look he pinned her with was sharp, and it made her skin crawl with its intensity. "What, your Gryffindor flair for fighting injustices is no more?"
She averted her gaze and struggled on with her original plan.
"I'm sorry, Professor. This shouldn't have been forced upon you...The Headmaster has quite the nerve..." She hesitated, gauging his reaction; after all, it was wrong to insult a teacher -particularly the Headmaster- in another teacher's presence. She shifted track, if only to be on the safe side. "Your situation is unfair and unjustifiable."
He snorted. Compared to previous years in Albus' service, he thought, this would be a walk in the park…
Though it was irritating and somewhat degrading, his life wasn't on the line, and he was not being asked to rape and murder in return for scraps of vital information regarding a megalomaniac wizard.
All in all, he decided, Albus could have thought of much worse...
The girl had naturally plowed onwards with her spiel.
"Still," she mused, "I can imagine how annoying it must be. I mean," she felt her face flush, "-you're an esteemed Potions Master…there are better, more important things you could be doing with your time than babysitting a seventh year."
Meeting her gaze, he rolled his eyes. "There are worse students to be babysitting, as you so eloquently put it." Taking another sip of his tea, he narrowed his eyes at her. "Repeat that to another soul -in particular Potter or Weasley- and you'll be serving detention for the remainder of your schooling career…including university."
Having just taken a sip of her own drink, Hermione fought the giggle that erupted in her throat. Had he intended that as a joke? She observed him surreptitiously over the brim of her cup, feigning another sip of tea.
His face was, as usual, impassive...Nothing gave his thoughts away. But he wasn't being scathing or cruel…and, more surprisingly, he was treating her as something akin to equal.
Perhaps these meetings wouldn't be quite so hard after all…
They spent the rest of their time discussing trivial likes and dislikes, as it was probably the safest ground to begin on. Hermione was mildly surprised to find that they shared opinions and tastes in the realm of literary and academic pursuits, in particular Muggle literature.
"Tolkien's works are rather well informed, for a Muggle…" The Slytherin was saying. "However, he, like most Muggles, embellished a few things…Pitiful, really…"
Hermione chuckled. "Put yourself in the Muggle reader's perspective, though. The world Tolkien paints is exciting and extended from any reality they know…It's that which makes his writings so popular…" She leant back into her seat. "Besides, the Wizarding World has always been rather secretive…Perhaps he was paid off to keep it extraordinarily fictional?"
This elicited a wry smirk from her usually reserved Potions professor. "An interesting theory…Though, you are not the first to think of it, and it has, to this day, remained nothing more than a conspiracy theory."
Stirring her latest cup of tea thoughtfully, Hermione shrugged. "It's plausible, though…"
Severus rolled his eyes. "Perhaps…but it doesn't change anything."
"No," the Gryffindor replied, "It doesn't…"
Somehow, she didn't think they were discussing Tolkien anymore… Setting aside her cup, she glanced at her watch and sighed. "And on that note…" she pulled herself from her seat, "I'd best head off…"
Snape nodded and rose as well. "Indeed."
Hermione sent him a nervous smile; though their morning had been remarkably pleasant, she was still uncomfortable with the situation, and with him. He had a short fuse, and she didn't want to overstep any boundaries, even accidentally. "Thankyou for the tea, sir."
"You're welcome, Miss Granger."
She ducked her head and began to make her way from his chambers. Reaching his office door, she turned back; "Oh, and sir?"
He arched an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"It was…nice talking to you today. I appreciate what you're doing for me."
Severus was somewhat surprised by the statement, and, on reflection, found that their conversation had been rather pleasant…far less excruciating than he'd anticipated, at any rate. "Quite." He eventually responded, watching her leave.
Perhaps his plan wouldn't be so hard to execute after all…
-?-
Who was this girl that had taken over her body? Hermione asked herself, as she strolled towards her next class, her time with the generally surly professor running through her head. She cringed at some of the crass comments she'd made…she blushed, realising that she'd been, on more than one occasion, openly flirting with him! Oh, she hoped he hadn't noticed…It just wouldn't do to openly seduce her teacher!
Not that he was her teacher any more though, she mused. Dumbledore had taken that away from her. Her Potions lessons were conducted separately now, by the junior Potions Professor, who didn't have anywhere near the aptitude or knowledge that Sever -Snape! possessed. She sighed at that. Perhaps, during one of their spare lessons together, she might pluck up the courage to ask for extra help…Dumbledore hadn't said that was forbidden, and she felt that the old man certainly didn't have the right to take away her scholarly privileges any more than he already had.
She quickly dismissed that train of thought; she wasn't yet ready to think of the Headmaster and his dark side.
Her musings turned, inevitably, back to her flirtings, accompanied by snippets from various recent conversations. Goyle's words, in particular, echoed in her mind.
Mutual attraction...In with a chance...
Suddenly she was wishing that the same applied to her situation. Which she knew was inappropriate and, above all, impossible.
She sighed wistfully. After all, the chance she'd been given was far more than she could have hoped for under 'normal' circumstances. That didn't make it any less wrong, mind you...it just fulfilled a little of the fantasy she'd been imagining for the past year or so...
"Knut for your thoughts?"
She was shaken from her reverie by none other than Harry Potter; one of the very people she'd been hoping to talk to at some point...Smiling, she shook her head. "Usual schoolwork musings..."
They fell into step with one another easily.
"That's my girl," he replied, "Always thinking about something constructive."
She rolled her eyes. "Actually, I was thinking about Professor Snape."
"Ah...So I should rephrase it a bit?" Harry asked. "Always thinking about problems?"
"Harry!" She swatted at his arm. "He's not a problem..."
"If you say so..."
She decided, rather wisely, to change the topic a little. "Speaking of Slytherin subterfuge... Gregory's been quite the surprise this year..."
"That he has..." Harry was rapidly turning a dark shade of red.
"Aesthetically and intellectually."
" 'Mione...please..."
She gave him a quick hug. "I mean it, Harry...I think the hat's quite right pairing you two up...You'd make a fantastic couple..."
He smiled sheepishly. "You think so?"
"I wouldn't lie to you, you know that."
"Do I?" He quipped, grinning playfully.
Hermione laughed and shook her head. "Prat."
"You love me..."
She responded by placing a hand over her heart in a melodramatic manner. "Oh, Harry Potter, I love you, but I am destined to live alone...For you-" she muffled a mock sob "-you and I suffer from the same affliction. We both prefer men."
It was his cue to swat at her, now...They continued as such until they reached their Transfiguration classroom, whereupon they fell silent and entered respectfully. McGonagall would have their heads on a platter otherwise.
Ron entered moments later, avoiding his usual table and choosing, instead, to sit beside Seamus a few rows back. He pointedly ignored Harry's attempts to get his attention throughout the lesson, then fled from the classroom before Hermione or Harry could catch him.
"What was that about?" The Boy Who Lived asked his female companion as they made their way to lunch.
Hermione shrugged, feeling somewhat hurt and confused. "Not a clue..."
"Oi! Potter, Granger! Wait up!" The two Gryffindors were vaguely surprised to discover Draco Malfoy chasing after them.
Hermione placed a cautionary hand on Harry's shoulder, but found that she needn't have bothered; clearly Goyle had already spoken to him about their war-time behaviour.
"Hurry it up then, Malfoy," The raven-haired boy spoke, "I'm starving!"
The Slytherin smirked. "That's right...You're the up-the-duff half..." He looked to Hermione. "At times like this, I'm glad I'm straight..."
"Git." Harry spat, light-heartedly. "The spell has nothing to do with my need to be fed..."
"That's true," Hermione agreed, matter-of-factly. "In fact, at this stage, you should be nauseous rather than ravenous..."
"Either way," The blonde responded, "I'm glad Patil gets the honour..."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "And how is Padma coping with it?"
"Wouldn't know, actually…" Draco replied, "Haven't spoken to her. Think she's avoiding me."
"Oh, no…"
Grey eyes sparkled at her. "It's not the end of the world, Granger…"
"But your marks-!"
"'Mione," Harry cut in, "Worry about your own results. Malfoy'll sort things out himself."
Feeling suitably chastised, Hermione dropped down at the Slytherin table across from Goyle. "Still…Padma needs to know that Malfoy's not quite the git we thought he was…"
Harry sat himself down next to the Head Boy. "That might be, but you can't go meddling…"
"I don't meddle!"
All three boys snorted at her. She scowled. "I don't." She folded her arms over her chest. "Besides, you two-" she gestured between Goyle and Malfoy, "-wouldn't know, would you?"
They shared a look. "We've taunted you enough to know what you're like, Granger." The blonde smirked, helping himself to a plate of food. "And we're more than certain that you're a meddler."
"You're prats, the lot of you."
They laughed.
Hermione sat back and watched Harry interacting with the other two, in particular Goyle. Their conversation flowed easily, and it was more than obvious that they were attracted to one another. She sighed; that was what she wanted. She wanted someone with whom she could talk about anything. She wanted someone that would be captivated by her, and that she would be captivated by in return.
This particular subject was clearly the catalyst for many of the Wizarding relationships that developed post-Hogwarts, and had probably been running for decades. After all, the divorce rate in the Wizarding world was quite low, and that could be attributed to the fact that most couples were entirely compatible with one another; something that this class ensured. Well, this was the case for everyone but her. After all, it was clear that Snape wasn't the man she'd end up with once she graduated. He was thrown into this assignment of hers without warning, and, though they had certain things in common, he was probably only deemed the most compatible staff-member for her by the hat because he was the youngest male on staff.
She wasn't naïve enough to believe that there was only one person out there for her, nor would she accept the 'soul mate' drivel that many of her peers babbled on about, but she'd once dreamed that there would be at least one boy in the school that she'd get along with well enough to date or even settle down with for a little while after they'd graduated…but that was clearly not the case, and she couldn't help feeling a little cast out for it.
"Oi, 'Mione, you alright?"
She shook herself from her reverie and smiled up at her friend. "I'm fine, Harry…Just thinking."
He looked skeptical, but accepted the answer anyway, for which she was grateful. He was a good friend, though, and would probably drill her about it later in private.
On cue, her thoughts drifted to Ron and his odd behaviour. Searching the Great Hall for his hair, she spotted him at the Hufflepuff table, pushing the food on his plate around with his fork. He glanced up and met her gaze, glowering, before turning his attentions back to his plate.
Anger boiled her blood. What was his problem? Hermione pushed herself up from her seat and made her way towards the Hufflepuff table, ignoring the enquiring looks from those around her. She was determined to get answers, whether Ron Weasley liked it or not.
"Ron," She said, approaching his side. "Can we talk?"
He craned his neck to observe her for a moment, before turning back to his friends. "Piss off."
Rage, red and raw, pulsed in Hermione's veins. "I beg your pardon?"
He turned to face her directly. "I said," he enunciated, "Piss. Off."
Seeing red, Hermione leant forward and slapped him, before swiftly turning on her heel and marching from the Hall.
From his position at the Slytherin table, Harry frowned. "I wonder what happened there?"
Wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, Draco shrugged. "I'd say that Weasel should have gotten it years ago…" He touched his own cheek, remembering Hermione's strength from their third year. "Let me tell you, that chit can hurt."
Harry half-smiled at that, remembering the same incident, before standing. "I'd best go after her…"
Goyle rose and towered above him. "I'll let you into our rooms…She's probably taken refuge in there."
Malfoy helped himself to more food. "Behave, children…" He winked at them. "Don't do anything I'd do…"
Harry blushed red, and Goyle rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Potter. Granger's had a fair head start."
The Boy Who Lived nodded. "We'll check the library on the way through…"
-?-
Hermione clenched and unclenched her fists as she stormed through the castle. How dare Ron be so awful! She'd done nothing wrong, and yet he was treating her as if she deserved to be ignored. She shouldn't have hit him, though…After all, she was Head Girl, and slapping other students was not exactly setting a good example.
She was so consumed by her thoughts that she ran straight into a tall, solid mass of robes.
"Oomph!"
"Oh, I'm so…" She trailed off, completely mortified. Before her stood none other than Professor Severus Snape, and he didn't look very pleased with her. "Sir, I'm terribly sorry…"
"Silence." He hissed, eyes narrowed. "Aside from your foolish bumbling, you recently attacked a fellow student-"
"But-"
"I said silence. Surely you're not so stupid as to not understand a simple command."
She lowered her gaze, feeling her chest constrict. And they'd had such a pleasant conversation that morning…
Seemingly satisfied with her compliance, Severus continued. "You physically attacked another student. The Headmaster has requested that I, not your Head of House, discuss this issue with you."
She raised her eyes to meet his. "Yes, sir."
"You will follow me to my office."
She nodded, and followed silently, all the while thinking that she would probably lose her badge, as well as any chance of passing Sexual Education…
They reached the office, and Snape sat behind his desk. "Sit."
She complied.
"Miss Granger," he began, "your behaviour in the Great Hall was unacceptable. 50 points have been deducted from Gryffindor as part of your punishment."
"Yes, sir."
He leant back in his seat. "You will also be required to serve detention, with me, every Friday evening for the term."
"Yes, sir."
"Have you anything to say for yourself?"
She glanced up at him. "I'm terribly sorry…I know I shouldn't have hit him…"
"However?" Snape prompted.
"He was being so cruel…I don't have any idea what I did to him to cause it…After all, this is only our third day here!" She averted her gaze, ashamed of her outburst. "I didn't expect him to be the way he was…the way he is."
Severus watched the emotions play out in the girl's eyes. She was nervous, guilty, ashamed and sad…that much was obvious in the way she spoke. But her eyes…they detailed detachment and longing…
Damn that manipulative old fool! This was all his fault!
The Weasley boy was clearly unimpressed with the Head Girl's 'choice' of partner…combine that with Potter and Goyle's seemingly successful partnership, and the red-headed, hot-tempered, Slytherin-despising teen felt betrayed by his closest friends…It was more than obvious, and would probably have been avoided, had Albus not meddled. The Granger girl might have decided to be a single-parent for the first phases of assessment…Merlin only knew.
So, going against the grain, and taking the Granger girl by surprise, Severus spoke out about his theory.
Hermione's expression darkened as the logic seeped into her brain. "Of course!" She seethed, more to herself than to Snape. "It makes sense! I mean…Harry and Goyle are, for all intents and purposes, really getting along well…Ron doesn't yet understand the fact that Malfoy and Goyle aren't quite who he thought they were…Add to that the fact that probably he thinks I'm loving being paired with a Professor…one he dislikes…" She slapped her thigh in indignation. "He probably believes all of the stupid rumours, too! 'She's been sleeping with him since third year…How else could she have gotten those grades? Nobody else does in Potions.' Or, my personal favourite, 'There's a reason she made Head Girl'. Gah! Pathetic!"
"Quite."
Her eyes widened in surprise, as though she'd completely forgotten where she was, whom she was with, and why. Cheeks burning, Hermione spluttered an apology.
Severus ignored it. "I believe I've spent enough time in your company for one day, Miss Granger." He stated, his tone crisp. "I do not think I need to remind you to keep your hands to yourself."
Feeling sheepish, and vaguely hurt by his dismissal, Hermione nodded. "I'm sorry again, sir. Enjoy the rest of your day."
He remained silent as he watched her leave.
-?-
Hermione stumbled through the rest of the day, her mind a mess. A thousand and one thoughts swirled about, almost as though they were contained in a badly organized pensieve. Professor Snape was running hot and cold with her, perplexing her to no end. Ron was being a complete prick and refused to speak to her. And Harry…well…Harry appeared concerned…but he, too, seemed to be off in a bit of a daydreaming state.
She was relieved when the last class of the day was let out, allowing her to race to her rooms and avoid her peers.
Thankfully, when she arrived, Goyle was nowhere to be seen, which meant that she could head on up to her private quarters, run herself a relaxing bath, and pretend as though she had no troubles at all.
Unfortunately, her stomach had other plans.
She was feeling nauseous…not to the state of retching quite yet…but she didn't feel good at all.
Damn stupid spell!
Running herself the bath, she eased herself into the bubbles, praying for the heat to wash away the nausea. Closing her eyes, she sighed. This year was going to be hell. Between her conflicting feelings for Snape, arguing with Ron, watching Harry fall head over heels and, most importantly, her schoolwork and NEWTS, she would be absolutely buggered. And not in the most enjoyable sense of the word, either.
She wished that she could go back, preferably to the school holidays, where she had holidayed overseas and fallen in lust with a pool boy. He was two years her senior…tall…dark…and vaguely resembling one Severus Snape. Hermione smirked to herself. She'd given him her virginity and had returned from the holiday feeling thoroughly shagged out, and quite pleased with herself. The pool boy –Jackson- had probably felt much the same way.
But, those days were over and, though she didn't regret them, Hermione knew that it would probably be a long while before she could experience that euphoria again. And, by that, she didn't mean sexual euphoria, though that had been a plus, but, rather, the euphoria of feeling attractive, of feeling wanted.
Returning from her reverie, Hermione noted that the water was beginning to grow cool, and she knew she had homework to do before she could slink back into her dreams.
Pulling herself from the water, a wave of nausea and dizziness –far stronger than their predecessors- washed over her, taking her by surprising and causing her to fall backwards. She barely missed the corner of the vanity, which would have surely knocked her unconscious.
Landing with an 'oomph' on her backside, Hermione closed her eyes and waited for the dizziness to pass. And these are watered down symptoms? She asked herself. How awful.
Feeling steadier, she pulled herself to her feet, wrapped herself in a towel, and made her way into her room.
Once dressed in her nightclothes, she summoned a house-elf and ordered a very light dinner. She wasn't certain she wanted to test her stomach just yet. A small bowl of soup arrived, with toast and juice, and she ate with caution, before turning her attentions to her homework.
An hour or so later, she yawned and stretched, savouring the feel of her muscles stretching. Perhaps it was time to retire…her stomach had been on its best behaviour, and she felt quite drained from the day she'd had…
Making the decision to go to bed early, Hermione drew back the blankets and lowered herself into the plush mattress.
She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
-?-
That Friday afternoon found her knocking on Professor Snape's door for their final allotted spare lesson of the week. She'd avoided him since the incident on Wednesday and she wasn't certain as to how this 'chat session' would go.
He opened the door, startling her from her thoughts, and ushered her inside.
"Sit." He commanded.
Apparently, they would no longer visit his quarters.
She sat, feeling a little upset at the thought, in front of his desk.
"Our topic for today shall be somewhat more personal than Wednesday's." Snape told her, sounding very much as though he was leading a class of bumbling first years.
She nodded, glad that he was still prepared to work with her for the assessment.
"We shall be discussing our histories, as it were. Birthdates, parents and siblings. And, to some degree, likes and dislikes of personal habits."
Hermione nodded again.
"For Merlin's sake Girl, are you a bloody marionette?"
His tone was not exactly cruel, but it wasn't very friendly either. Hermione felt tears well in her eyes. "I'm sorry, sir…" she replied. "I…wasn't certain you wished me to respond."
"No," he spat back, his tone laced with sarcasm, "We're here for my benefit, aren't we?"
The Gryffindor forced herself to meet his eye. "Again, sir, I apologise…I've not had the best first week back, and I didn't want to put a foot out of line." Then, after a moment's consideration, she added; "Again."
Severus observed her silently. She sat before him, wringing her hands nervously, her eyes downcast. It was a far cry from the near-comfortable conversation they'd shared only a few days earlier. He must have shaken her up a fair bit that evening…but it couldn't be helped. He wasn't about to throw away his reputation because he felt somewhat sorry for the girl.
"Perhaps, Miss Granger, you should put your brain to some use and think before you act." He smirked.
She scowled up at him. "With all due respect, sir, I've had enough time to think. And I think that you're treating me rather unfairly right now."
Her words caught up with her and she paled.
Where had that come from? She asked herself. She'd never even dreamt of giving a Professor lip before!
With a sigh, she made to apologise. It felt as though that was all she was doing these days. "Sorry, Professor…"
"No, Miss Granger, continue…" He purred, his tone deceptively calm. "You were about to tell me all about how unfair I'm being."
Blushing, Hermione averted her gaze. "It's just that, well, Wednesday morning was quite nice. Your company was…" She searched for an appropriate word, "…pleasant. And now…" She shrugged, "It feels as though you're treating me as the reason for your problems." The infamous Gryffindor courage returned, and she met his gaze defiantly. "Which is unfair, because you made a fuss about how this is all Professor Dumbledore's doing, and that you felt I was as much a victim in this as you."
Severus sat back in his seat, and steepled his fingers. "And you feel you have the right to question me?"
"No, Professor…I don't have the right…"
He arched an eyebrow. "However?"
"However," she sighed, "I'm in so much trouble this semester already that I don't think standing up to you is going to make a huge difference."
"Do you think that wise?" There was an underlying element of danger in his tone that caused Hermione to think twice before answering.
She shook her head. "Not really." Then, as an afterthought, added, "Sir."
They sat in silence from there, with Hermione still aghast over her attitude towards a Professor, and Severus intrigued by the inner-workings of the girl's mind. He –along with the rest of the staff- had seen her stressed before, but the way she was reacting to the strain now was self-destructive; an issue which bothered the Head of Slytherin.
Hermione Granger was one of Hogwarts' most promising students and, though Severus was a keen supporter of the theory that no student should be coddled, lest they never learn to tackle obstacles for themselves, he felt that, in this instance, the pressure being placed on the girl was beyond reasonable.
He inwardly cursed the Headmaster again.
Severus continued to watch as Hermione wrung her hands and inwardly chastised herself for her behaviour. He generally enjoyed watching students squirm, but felt that, unfortunately, she'd made a point earlier, and that, perhaps, their situations were quite alike.
After another moment, he spoke, attempting to maintain a calm, vaguely sympathetic demeanour. "Miss Granger, I do hope that you're quite done wallowing."
She looked up at him and nodded. "Again, Professor Snape, I apologise…I think the charm's tampering a bit with my emotions, too. Not that it's any excuse."
He furrowed his brow. "Any other symptoms?"
"Er…the nausea and dizziness is a little bad…"
He inhaled deeply, clearly frustrated. "I recall informing you that you should see me for remedies."
"I know," she admitted, "but I felt that you, ah, preferred your space…"
An amused glint flickered in his eyes. "You were afraid."
"I was not." She bristled. "The symptoms were nowhere near bad enough to take up any of your time."
"Indeed."
Ignoring the amusement and disbelief in his tone –though they were an improvement on the malice- Hermione plowed on. "At any rate, shouldn't we start discussing more 'private matters'?"
Ah, yes, he thought, where were we…?
"Very well, Miss Granger, where would you prefer we begin?"
She shrugged. "Well…you suggested the trivial information…I'll begin, shall I?"
He nodded, and she began her brief autobiography. She told him her birthday and her parents' names. She informed him that she was, at that stage, an only child, and suspected that she would remain as such. She then glossed over her favourite foods, beverages and colours, moving from there into a basic description of her hobbies.
"I love to read, Professor, as you know…I also play the piano…or, at least, attempt to…" She paused, "I also enjoy studying. I believe it was you who called me a 'Know-It-All', and I suppose it's true. I yearn for knowledge…I hate not understanding anything…" She shrugged. "And that's about it, really. I mean, I could get all girly and go on about my love of window shopping, and how I like the way we, in the Wizarding world, have the ability to zip between countries in order to do so…but, really, that's not me…" She felt her cheeks colour, "Well, not much, anyway."
Rolling his eyes, and muttering about typical women, Severus followed suit and gave her a brief –but not inaccurate- summary of his life. He, too, enjoyed reading, as she knew, and studying…He surprised her by disclosing his love of cooking. Though it wasn't dissimilar to his field (Potions making), he found the entire process relaxing and invigorating all at once. He enjoyed experimenting with ingredients and creating his own recipes. Again, if she were to breathe a word of this to any other soul…
"I know," She cut in, once again feeling comfortable in his presence. "Detention for eternity."
He eyed her seriously. "Detention with Mr Filch for eternity."
The corners of her lips quirked. "Of course, Professor."
The silence that followed was comfortable, and the two took the opportunity to observe one another covertly. Hermione noticed that, when he wasn't on edge and in a huff, his face relaxed into a rather handsome (in her opinion, at any rate) visage. His eyes were mysterious…and his skin, which she once thought sallow, was pale and smooth, with the odd wrinkle or scar barely visible. His nose made him look aristocratic and his voice…well…to Hermione it sounded like liquid velvet.
As these thoughts plagued her mind, she felt her cheeks heat up. She couldn't think of her Professor that way! She shouldn't! It was inappropriate, and she knew that, if she allowed herself to get any more attached, she would inevitably get hurt.
Severus watched the blush creep across the Gryffindor's cheeks, and frowned in concentration. What could she be thinking about? Who could she be thinking about?
He cleared his throat. She jumped.
"A knut for your thoughts, Miss Granger?" He asked, reveling in the look of sheer horror etched upon her features.
"Oh, er…I was…er…" She swallowed. "I was thinking about how inappropriate my behaviour has been these last few days…"
That made sense, she decided, gauging the Professor's reaction, and it wasn't exactly a lie…
Snape nodded. "There will be more time for that during your detention tonight." He watched her face fall. "Surely, you didn't forget?"
Forcing a smile, she shook her head. "Of course not, sir."
"Good."
-?-
Hermione arrived at her detention that night early and feeling ill. Snape gave her nausea remedies and set her to work cleaning cauldrons. He ignored her for the most part of the evening, choosing, instead, to mark homework and consult his newest Potions text. When the clock signaled that there were a mere 5 minutes before curfew, he sent Hermione from his sight. This was a pattern that lasted for the first two detentions, before he noticed her failing health during the following Monday's 'chat'.
She appeared tired and withdrawn, and he felt rather guilty for it, before quickly shifting the blame back onto the Headmaster. He knew it was a cowardly option, but, even though he and the Granger girl were getting along well enough in their forced discussion periods, he refused to sacrifice his reputation simply because he felt sorry for the girl.
Still, he would have to consider a new option for their detentions…
That Friday night, when she arrived, Severus informed her that, instead of cleaning, she would be expected to assist him with the preparation of a particular potion. It was well beyond anything required of a NEWTS level Potions student, but he felt that she would be useful and would not jeopardise the potion.
Her eyes lit up, and she took him by surprise by throwing her arms around his waist. "Thankyou, Sir. Professor Matthews keeps giving me third year tasks and I…" She trailed off, noticing their position, and sprang backwards, blushing ferociously. "I'm so sorry!"
Stiff and uncomfortable, Snape brushed the apology away. "Forget about it, Granger."
Again, she found that her mouth was working before her brain could process her own words. "It's the stupid spell…I've been feeling really clingy, lately. Craving contact…Wanting someone to-" She covered her mouth with her hand. "I'll shut up."
"I believe that would be a wise decision."
Her face reddened furiously, and Severus remembered something else she'd said.
"You said Professor Matthews was giving you third year potions work?"
Her blush disappeared as a scowl marred her features. "Yes." She hissed. "It's annoying, degrading and rather insulting. Not to mention the fact that NEWTS is this year, and I don't feel at all prepared…"
He, too, was glowering. "Have you spoken to the Headmaster?"
She snorted. "I was half expecting him to tell me that she'd make a great addition for our partnership." Dark humour laced the imitation that followed; "Why. My dear girl, Professor Matthews would be the perfect Professor to introduce to Severus…A threesome is precisely what you need!"
Though he wished to reprimand her, Severus was too busy controlling his amusement. He wouldn't laugh outright, but he had trouble controlling the smirk that had plastered itself to his face.
She flushed, and apologised, but found that she really wasn't all that sorry.
"Anyway," she continued, "Professor Dumbledore says that I should trust her."
Severus scowled. The old man had lost his mind! "Perhaps, Miss Granger, these detentions should become tutorials…I may not be allowed to teach you, officially, however, I refuse to watch another staff member ruin a promising student's chance for success."
She reeled back, flattered. "Thankyou, sir. For, er, for everything you just said." She smiled, "And, I promise, nobody will know that, deep down, you're a nice person."
He scowled at her, and she laughed.
-?-
Hermione returned to her quarters that night in the best mood she'd been in all term to date. Again, she knew she'd been flirting with the man…but at least this time she could attribute most of it to her hormones, thanks to the mock-pregnancy charm.
"Dungbomb."
She waltzed into the Heads' common room, humming to herself. Taking a seat on the couch, she summoned an elf and requested a hot chocolate accompanied by chocolate biscuits. The elf returned bearing what resembled a small chocolate-y feast. She thanked the elf and dunked the first biscuit into the beverage before ramming it into her mouth. She moaned as the biscuit dissolved on her tongue.
Chocolate, she decided, was a great substitute for sex.
Speaking of…strange noises could be heard from Goyle's room. She could only deduce that Harry had finally succumbed to the hormonal cravings caused by the spell and was spending the night with his partner. She knew that they wouldn't be doing anything overtly wicked, as all rooms were warded to prevent students from participating in the actual sex act. However, there were many things the students could do without breaking those wards and alerting the staff.
Upon thinking of such things, she felt a familiar feeling stirring in the pit of her stomach. It had been near constant for the last day or so. Oh, Gods, she needed release. Another bite of the chocolate could only relieve so much…
With a sigh, she forced herself to her feet and entered her bedroom. Placing a silencing charm over the room, she changed into her nightdress and hopped into bed. Closing her eyes, she allowed her fingers to wander, imagining they belonged to a certain Potions Master.
It wasn't long before she achieved her climax and went spiraling, contentedly, into sleep.
If only he knew…
-?-
Monday morning came by again rather quickly. Hermione rose late and summoned breakfast from an elf. She dressed lazily, noting the fluttering that had started in her belly. It was only faint, but it intrigued her nonetheless. She would tell the Professor of the newest development during their meeting that morning.
She bounded along the corridors, in a particularly good mood. Oh, how she looked forward to these meetings! Professor Snape always had something interesting to say, and she'd discovered that they had more in common than she'd ever imagined. They had little arguments every so often, but, all in all, their opinions were generally quite similar.
She knocked on his office door, and he allowed her in, moving towards the concealed entrance to his chambers, as had become their routine. She settled herself on the couch and accepted a cup of tea, ready to 'get to know' the Slytherin some more.
"How was your weekend?" She asked politely.
Their 'chats' always began awkwardly, but eased into comfortable conversation as they became reacquainted.
"It was enjoyable, surprisingly."
"Oh?" Her curiosity was piqued. "What did you do?"
"I attended a lecture in London regarding the use of Muggle medicinal herbs in Potions development."
Her eyes gleamed. "Oh, I would have loved to have been there…"
"I thought you might." He motioned to his pensieve. "Feel free to immerse yourself. Consider it part of your NEWTS tutorials."
She had the urge to hug him, but refrained. "Thankyou, sir!"
He nodded, and she moved towards the pensieve, waiting patiently for the go ahead. He nodded and she dove right in.
She watched Professor Snape take a seat and she followed suit, taking an empty seat near the aisle. She listened to the speaker, captivated by the intensity of the information. There were a few things said that she disagreed with, and made a mental note to discuss them with the Professor.
As the lecture came to an end, she prepared to leave the memory, but found that it continued. Perhaps Snape had moved to speak to the lecturer? She turned to see where he had gone, and regretted it instantly.
Before her stood the Professor, and beside him Professor Matthews. It wasn't the presence of the other Professor which unnerved her, but the position of her hands. One was entwined with his!
Feeling foolish and sick, she threw herself out of the memory.
Snape was waiting for her, anticipating an academic discussion. What he wasn't expecting was a tearful, red-faced Head Girl.
"Miss Granger?" He asked.
His only response was a muffled sob as she ran from the room.
A/N- Is all as it seems or has Hermione misinterpreted the situation? Tune in next time for the answer to this question and more!