A/N – Thank you for all of your kind reviews! I was flattered that so many of you are actually enjoying this piece. This chapter is somewhat OOC (as is the rest of the story, I suppose), however I have tried to keep it believable under the circumstances. As per usual, any feedback and constructive criticism is deeply appreciated! Oh, and I hope that everyone has a very safe and enjoyable festive season!
Severus was baffled. The girl had fled his quarters and never looked back. Now, under normal circumstances -where he took pride in intimidating and, on the odd occasion, tormenting students- her behaviour wouldn't have surprised him. However, he had been far from intimidating. For the previous three weeks he'd even been vaguely friendly with the girl, so her behaviour struck him as fairly odd.
Had he said something cruel?
No.
Had he looked at her in a sadistic fashion?
No again.
She'd emerged from the memory tearful and flustered, which meant that something at the lecture must have upset her.
He frowned.
The content had been intense, yes, but he couldn't recall anything occurring that would elicit such a negative reaction...
With an exasperated sigh, he decided to delve back into the memory. He wanted answers.
-?-
Hermione ran all the way to the Heads' rooms, tears streaming down her face.
How could she have been so stupid? She'd fallen for her Professor! She'd developed a crush over the course of the previous year, but, over the last three weeks she had allowed it to get out of hand. She'd actually allowed herself to imagine that she'd have a chance with him!
She was so stupid !
"Dungbomb." She stammered, arriving at the portrait. It swung open and she tumbled through the entrance, landing, disgracefully, in a heap in front of the couch, where the Head Boy and The Boy Who Lived had been snogging happily. Naturally, they jumped apart at her arrival.
Taking one look at her tear-stained face, Harry leapt to his feet. "Hermione, are you alright?"
She shook her head. "I'm such an idiot!"
Harry looked to Goyle for assistance.
The near behemoth moved forward and offered his fellow Head a hand. "You're not an idiot, Granger."
Her tears continued to flow, and her protest was muffled by sobs.
"I am!" She cried. "I knew this would happen, and I still let myself get swept off my feet..."
Harry was confused. Goyle, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what was going on.
"Hermione," he began, his tone gentle, "You can't 'elp the way you feel."
She looked up at him. "I can. I should have."
"Does somebody want to tell me what's going on?"
Hermione sniffled pathetically and averted her gaze. "I've developed f...feelings for P...professor Sn...Snape." She hiccupped.
"Oh." The Boy Who Lived responded lamely. "Well. That's, er, not so bad..."
Taming her emotions (Damn spell induced hormonal surges!), the Head Girl shook her head. "Not that bad?" She echoed. "Of course it is. He's a teacher. I'm a student. He's thirty-seven, and I'm eighteen." She felt the panic bubble up in her throat again. "And, what's more, he's seeing someone."
Harry pulled her into a hug, knowing that there wasn't much he could say that would help.
Hermione savoured the comfort, pulling away sheepishly once she'd calmed down. Wiping her eyes, she glanced between the boys and sighed. "Now, look," she said, forcing a watery, apologetic smile, "I've completely ruined your private time."
"Not an issue, Granger," Goyle handed her a mug of hot chocolate. "We've got all year."
She took a sip of the warm liquid, and sank back into the folds of the plush couch. "Still, I feel awful. Just because I'm doomed to spend the year alone and out-of-love, so to speak, doesn't mean I should interrupt your time together." She peered at Harry, fondly. "I'm glad you're happy, you know. The both of you." She attempted to swallow the pang of jealousy that accompanied the statement.
Her fellow Gryffindor frowned. "'Mione…you're not going to spend the year alone. And as for the out-of-love thing…"
"Harry," she pleaded, "Come off it, would you? This subject they've forced on us is nothing more than a glorified matchmaking service. Most people have been placed with someone that they can easily see themselves spending the rest of their lives with, and the others are content to spend at least a few years dating their partners before moving on…" She wiped away an errant tear, determined not to let herself get worked up again. "I was just unlucky enough to be incompatible with everyone else…It's nobody's fault that I'm the complete opposite of every other seventh year; that's just how it is. I'm not deluded enough to think that someone will decide they don't like the perfect match that's been handed to them, and will, instead, prefer me…" She sighed. "I'm happy for everyone else, really I am. I just feel somewhat left out."
Harry didn't quite know how to respond, so he chose, instead, to reach over and give her hand a squeeze. "You're the strongest girl I know, 'Mione." He eventually informed her. "You'll make it through this year...And we'll be here for you whenever you need us." He nudged his -there was no other word for it- boyfriend. "Won't we?"
The Head Boy nodded. " 'Course we will."
She swallowed the lump in her throat, and smiled tightly at the pair. "Then after this year?"
"You'll see the world!" Harry beamed, clearly excited for her. "You'll go on to be extremely successful, will find a tall, dark, handsome wizard who will find himself head over heels for you, and you'll both live happily ever after with a herd of little 'uns to keep you busy."
Laughing despite herself, Hermione crinkled her nose. "I could do without the herd of children…I'm not marrying a Weasley!"
"I don't know…" The Boy Who Lived grinned. "Charlie's quite attractive…"
That earned him a thwack from both parties. "Oi!" He glowered at his partner and nursed his arm, "What was that for?"
Goyle shook his head with a smirk. "You're mine, now, Potter. No other men for you."
Rolling his eyes with a long-suffering sigh, Harry pretended to pout. "Fine."
Hermione watched the display with a small, yet affectionate, smile. She was somewhat jealous, but also aware that Harry had made a valid point. She'd survive the year, and would most likely find happiness -or, at least, a fulfilling relationship or three- after she graduated. And, in the mean time, she had her friends.
Well, she thought, I have Harry and Goyle...and, if I really want to push my luck, I suppose I've got Malfoy as well...
Still, she missed Ron. They'd avoided each other ever since the incident in the Great Hall all those weeks ago. Apparently he and Hannah were getting along famously, and he'd made it more than clear that he didn't want anything more to do with his 'Slytherin loving' ex-friends.
With all the extra emphasis on homework, as well as the requirements of Sexual Education, Hermione'd had little time to think about the friendship she'd lost. But, on this particular morning, she found that she missed him terribly. She missed his lame jokes and his playful nature. Certainly, they'd been drifting apart since their fifth year…but to have absolutely no contact with the boy was taking its toll on her.
Perhaps she should attempt to bury the hatchet?
Of course, that might only spark more arguments…
She sighed, and the fluttering in her belly made itself known again, reminding her of another relationship -of sorts- that she had to mend.
She drained the last of the chocolate beverage from her mug, then rose.
"Where're you off to, then?"
She spun to face her best friend and his boyfriend. "I'm going to go get on with the rest of the year." She replied, hoping she sounded confident. "First stop: Professor Snape."
-?-
Severus emerged from the memory, more confused than when he'd entered it. He'd paid careful attention to everything said, and yet, he could not pinpoint anything that might have upset the Granger girl.
A timid knock sounded at his office door, and he made his way from his quarters, making certain the entrance was concealed before he allowed his 'guest' to enter.
Opening the door, he came face to face with the very object of his morning's musings. "Miss Granger," he began, his tone deceptively calm, "You've deemed yourself fit to return, I see."
She flushed, however maintained eye contact. "I apologise for earlier, Professor. I…" she hesitated, "…suffered an unexpected side-effect from the spell."
He arched an eyebrow. "Indeed?"
"Yes, sir. I should have explained myself…but I'm afraid I wasn't exactly in a stable state of mind."
He observed her for a moment, before moving aside to allow her entrance. She took a seat in front of his desk, and, out of habit, continued talking. "I rather enjoyed the lecture, though." As she remembered the content, her eyes glimmered. "It was riveting. I must say, though, I disagreed with his assumption that the Aloe-Vera plant could assist the dilution of Phoenix tears…"
"Is that so?" He asked, "Explain your reasoning."
She smiled shyly, for only a moment, before launching into her spiel.
Their discussion progressed easily from there, and Severus soon forgot about his plan to question the girl about her earlier behaviour.
It wasn't until she thanked him again for his patience and understanding -on the way out the door- that he remembered.
"Actually, Miss Granger, a word…" He gestured towards the seat she had recently vacated.
She checked her watch, "I'm sorry, sir…I have class-"
"I've already contacted Minerva and informed her that you may be late."
She sighed in resignation and sat back down.
He leant forward in his own seat, appearing almost casual. "About your behaviour earlier-"
"I thought I'd explained that."
"Not well enough."
She blanched.
"Miss Granger…" he began, tentatively. "I am quite aware of the hormonal imbalances and so forth that you are no doubt experiencing. However, I also understand that such displays as the one this morning are triggered." He leant backwards, "I would find it to be in both of our interests if you were to inform me of what triggered this morning's outburst, so that it may be avoided for the remainder of the spell."
"Oh, Professor…I can't…You wouldn't understand."
"Miss Granger," his patience was wearing thin, "I am not an ogre. I, too, suffer from emotions from time to time."
"I'm not insinuating that you don't, sir…I just don't want to bother you with my trivial problems."
"You've already done so, on more than one occasion." He responded, calmly. "This morning was simply the tip of the iceberg, as they say."
"Sir, really, I don't feel comfortable-"
He fought the urge to snap at her. If his plan to piss Albus Dumbledore off was to succeed, he would need to befriend the Granger girl, and snapping at her would not assist him in that. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, he prepared himself for the hardest part yet; "Hermione," the use of her given name clearly startled her, and he smirked. "The purpose of the past three weeks has been to instil some degree of trust in one another. I'd have hoped that, by now, you might be able to trust me as you do any other Professor."
She looked as though she were about to cry. "Sir…I do trust you. I have done so for years. And I trust you even more so this year because of the past few weeks. However…it's hard for me to disclose to anyone what's been bothering me…"
"And why is that?"
"Because, it's irrational…and inappropriate…and…urgh!" She threw her hands into the air. "I'd prefer to pretend that I'm a normal seventh year, and that what's bothering me really isn't bothering me, because I'm normal."
That barely made any sense. Each of them knew it.
"Hermione," Severus tried again, bringing out his strongest weapon. "You are no longer my student. Albus has seen to that. I know it may seem odd, but, for the remainder of the year we are to be 'friends'." He forced himself not to snarl the awkward word. "You may speak to me about anything. I will not take house-points. I will not be cruel. I will not mock you…"
Oh, yes you will. She thought, staring back at him. Or you'll banish me from your sight for eternity. She wasn't entirely sure which was worse…
"Professor Snape-"
"Severus."
"What?" She blinked.
"In private you may call me by my given name." Another exercise in trust; this time from he to her. He knew it was essential in order to bridge the gap between them.
"I couldn't-"
Merlin, this was a Gryffindor? Weren't they supposed to show a little bravado? Snape sighed. "It's not that difficult to pronounce, Girl."
"Professor-" One glance at the look on his face, and she complied. "Severus…I'm sorry…This is…awkward. I should go."
"No."
Her embarrassment dissolved into self-righteous anger. "You said it yourself; we're no longer teacher and student. You can't hold me here."
He smirked. "I could do anything I wished, actually."
Her eyes widened. She was reading far too much into that statement! "Fine." She flopped back into her seat. "You win."
"This was never a game, Hermione."
"Well then what is it? You've spent three weeks treating me as an equal, when for years I was a 'foolish child' and an 'annoying know-it-all'. Suddenly you're nice, and friendly, and caring and I just don't…" She trailed off, understanding dawning on her features. "This is to upset Professor Dumbledore, isn't it?"
"Not entirely."
She eyed him sceptically. "Of course it is. He's waiting for you to put a foot out of line so he can sack you and get that stupid woman in to take over all Potions classes." Her countenance darkened as she thought of Professor Matthews. Jealousy or no, it was a fact that that woman was an idiot. "So you're trying to establish an unlikely friendship with me, just to prove to him that he can't get rid of you that easily." It all made sense, now. She could see the light at the end of the tunnel. "So, I've been a pawn this entire time. First for him, and now for you."
Severus shook his head. "You're rather close, but not exactly correct."
She folded her hands over her chest defiantly. "Then correct me, Professor."
"The Headmaster did pull you into his game as a means to get me to either quit or do something stupid, yes. However," he held up his hand to silence her, "I am, and always have been, against using others as a means to an end. Having been in that position on far too many occasions myself, I prefer to do my own dirty work. I am furious with the Headmaster for pulling you into this, and I am not planning on 'using' you. However, I feel that a genuine friendship between us is possible. This was where the Headmaster's scheme was flawed; had he placed me with a brainless oaf for this task, I would have snapped by now. But he placed me with you; someone with whom I've discovered a lot of similarities."
"Are you trying to tell me that you genuinely want a friendship? With me?" She wasn't buying it.
He laughed lightly. "Originally, no. I wanted nothing to do with you. However, the course of the past few weeks has caused me to rethink my initial reaction. We do have a lot in common; we even share the same dark sense of humour. I believe that two very positive outcomes can come from the 'Sexual Education' debacle. One; we can work on building a friendship. Two; said positive outcome will drive Albus insane."
"You're serious?" Hermione didn't exactly know how to react. She was still reeling from the pensieve incident. Not to mention the fact that it was rather difficult -for her especially- to consider the man as anything other than her Professor; attraction to him or no.
He nodded. "Of course it will not be as simple as a first years' pact to 'be friends', but I believe it will be achievable."
"Right…" She said, "Well, then, as of Wednesday, I suggest we, ah, get reacquainted..."
She pushed herself to her feet. Just as she turned, Professor Matthews burst through the office door.
"Severus, here you are! I've been looking all over for you!" She gushed, ignoring Hermione's presence. "I simply must apologise for Saturday! It was most crass of me to have…Oh! Miss Granger! What are you doing here?"
Severus watched as the girl straightened herself to full height. "Professor Snape and I had some unfinished business to discuss." Her tone was crisp and curt. Clearly, she didn't think too much of the older witch.
Severus smothered a snort; he didn't think too much of Siobhan Matthews either.
However, he'd never seen the Head Girl act disrespectfully to any staff member…even if she despised them. (The Umbridge woman being the only exception, and he wasn't certain she counted.)
He wondered why she would suddenly give another Professor attitude now. Perhaps it was yet another side-effect of the abundance of hormones that the spell had induced.
Siobhan's eyes lit up as she replied in an overtly sweet voice; "Ah, yes, you're partners in your little baby assignment, aren't you?" She clucked, "It's so adorable…"
It was an intentional barb against the girl, Severus knew that. As did Hermione, judging by the fire in her eyes. However, her tone was as sickeningly sweet as the Professor's when she responded.
"Oh, yes. And it's rather a bonus to be considered compatible with Professor Snape. Not many people are as lucky as I."
Severus wondered exactly where that barb had come from. He knew that Siobhan was interested in him; how did she? And, furthermore, why would it bother her?
But, before he could request that she remain for further discussion, the Head Girl had bid them both good day and had practically stormed out of the room, leaving him alone with his fellow Professor.
"Oh, she's a funny little one, isn't she, Severus?"
He arched an eyebrow. "I find her to be more mature and far better company than the average 'adult' witch, actually."
He was hoping that she would take the hint.
It had been like this ever since their days at Hogwarts together. She was in his year, though had been in Hufflepuff, and had been trying to bed him since she had first laid eyes on him.
Twenty-odd years down the track, and she still hadn't let up.
"Oh, Severus," She laughed lightly, and sat on his desk, folding her legs in what he assumed was supposed to be a 'seductive' manner. "We're not all that bad…"
At that moment, he begged to differ.
"Was there something you wanted?" He asked, tersely.
She leant forward and began to toy with his top button. "What have I ever wanted, Severus?"
Placing his hand over hers, he wrenched it away. "I am not now, nor have I ever been, interested. I thought I made that perfectly clear on Saturday."
"I thought you were just playing-"
"I do not play, Siobhan. Now, kindly remove yourself from my person and my desk."
She scowled. "What have I got to do to tame you?"
"Imperio." He met her eyes. She could see he wasn't joking.
"For Merlin's sake, Severus! I don't want a relationship; just a quick fuck against the dungeon wall would suffice."
He rolled his eyes and calmly asked why it had to be him. There were many, many randy wizards gracing the pubs in Diagon Alley and in Hogsmeade; why was she so determined to bed him?
It was, apparently, because he was the most talented…or so the rumours went.
"You're a teacher," he reminded her. "You, of all people, should realise that not all rumours are true."
She batted her lashes coquettishly. "Ah, but I have it on good authority…"
He'd heard enough. "Professor Matthews, your behaviour is disgraceful. We are surrounded by hundreds of impressionable teenagers and it is up to us to set an example as to how they should behave. At this moment you are behaving no better than a fifth year in heat. I am not interested in pursuing any sort of relationship with you." He held the door open for her, signalling the end of their discussion. "Good day, Professor."
As she stormed out, he dropped back into his chair and massaged his temple.
Women!
-?-
Hermione stood by the window of her Head Girl's room, peering out over the lake. She was confused and felt rather lonely. The giant squid played about on its own, and Hermione longed to be like it; self-sufficient.
Suddenly she was alerted to another person's presence in the room. She knew, instinctively, that it was the Professor.
"You came." She said, without turning from the window.
"I did." He replied, moving to her side.
They stood in companionable silence for some time, before turning to face one another with the synchronised grace that can only be found in dreams and passé romance novels.
Suddenly they were kissing, tongues duelling in a battle that would never be won by either party. Hermione ran her fingers through Severus' hair while his hands traversed her body.
It wasn't long before he lifted her and moved to the bed. She could feel her arousal dampening her underwear. She could see his straining against his trousers.
They continued to kiss fervently, disrobing one another in a haphazard, fevered frenzy, refusing to part lips for more than a second.
Soon they were naked, and Hermione was pleading for Severus to take her.
In reality, Hermione woke from her dream, her heart pounding and a coil of tension in her belly. She groaned in frustration, and clenched her eyes shut, praying for sleep to claim her.
It would be hours before she would drift into an uneasy slumber.
-?-
Hermione spent the next few days in a bit of a haze.
Friends.
Professor Snape, the cruel, supposedly sadistic lord of the dungeons, had proposed that they befriend one another. He was being nice about it. It was rather unsettling.
Then there were her feelings for him. She was still attracted to him; an issue made worse by the spell she was under. The faux-pregnancy charm had addled her brain, it seemed. She craved him, and not always sexually. Though her dreams were getting far move vivid… When alone, she craved his scent, his voice, his intellect…Whenever she passed him in the halls, she felt giddy. It wasn't right.
It wasn't fair.
She watched the other students talking avidly about baby names and so forth, and she felt as though the Professor should be discussing similar things with her. Then she'd catch herself thinking along such lines and would feel foolish; the 'baby' wasn't real. Nothing about the stupid scenario was. Certainly, many couples had evolved into such, but it wasn't so in her case.
And it never would be. After all, the Professor was seeing Professor Matthews.
And that was something else which niggled away at Hermione's nerves. She knew it was irrational for her to appear jealous. After all, she was Snape's student…Or, rather, she had been. And he was a fair bit older than her. And he could date whomever he wished.
Musing over these things at dinner that Friday, Hermione pushed the food on her plate around with her fork.
Would she have felt any different about the situation if Snape were seeing an anonymous witch and not the near-imbecilic junior Potions Professor? She supposed it would have hurt less, had she spied him with someone that might possess an intellect…But she knew, deep down, that she'd still be jealous.
And, really, she shouldn't be.
Her thoughts continued in the same cycle, until the man in question stood behind her and requested that she 'stop her foolish daydreaming and report to detention'.
It was earlier than their scheduled detentions generally were, however she complied without complaint.
Arriving in his quarters, she waited patiently for him to start the discussion.
"You skipped Wednesday's meeting." He stated.
She averted her gaze and shrugged. "I wasn't feeling up to it."
"And this afternoon's?"
She met his gaze, knowing that the same excuse wouldn't be accepted. "I thought we'd catch up tonight."
"Hermione…" he began, a note of warning in his voice.
She sighed. He was doing that rather often, now. Using her given name, rather than surname. It unnerved her. It was still 'Granger' in public, but whenever he caught her in private, he'd always call her by name. "I'm sorry, sir…Severus. I'm uncomfortable with all of this."
He poured himself a shot of firewiskey, and brought a cup of tea forward for her. "Do you wish for me to return to my 'normal' state?"
She considered it for a moment. Would she like him to be cruel and snarky? Not really.
She shook her head.
"Good."
"I suppose."
Severus wasn't pleased with the change in the girl's demeanour. He'd spent most days observing her from the sidelines. She was becoming more withdrawn, pulling away from even the Potter brat. And he, Severus, would have no more of her self-pitying, particularly in his presence.
"Miss Granger," he began, hoping that the familiar title would catch her attention, "I will not tolerate your moping any longer."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You are no longer yourself." He said, matter-of-factly. "Whether it is because you feel more an outsider amongst your peers than ever before, or because you miss Mr. Weasley's friendship, I will not allow you to wallow in your sorrows a moment longer."
She scowled. "I am not wallowing in anything!"
Seeing that his probing, however inappropriate, was earning a fiery reaction, he continued. "Merlin's balls you aren't!" Her eyes widened at the faint profanity, and he relished the shock. "You've become as weak as a Hufflepuff."
"With all due respect-"
"So, tell me, Hermione, what is it that has brought you down, so?"
"Why must you push this?" The plea in her voice caused him to hesitate.
"Why must you fight me?"
They stared at each other in silence, and Hermione eventually gave in.
"I'm not happy with how this year has started," she admitted. "Firstly I'm ostracised from my peers because nobody in my class is compatible…then Ron hates me, because I've been paired with the king of the Slytherins himself…I get booted out of my Potions class and, as a substitute, am provided with an inept imbecile...meanwhile, I have to watch as everyone but me falls madly in like -not love, yet, at any rate- with their partners, and once again I'm left out of that…" she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Sort of."
He blinked, taken completely by surprise. "What?"
Her face flushed crimson upon realisation of her admission. "Nothing. Look, I'm just stressed. Add to that the emotional rollercoaster that this faux-pregnancy thing has got me on…" She shrugged. "I want to be normal, like everyone else. They're all enjoying playing happy families…I think that's supposed to be the point of this entire bloody exercise, actually…And, no offence, sir, but I'm not loving any of this."
He had the urge, for the briefest of moments, to embrace and comfort her. Naturally, he pushed it aside. "And here was I, beginning to believe that you were enjoying our tutorials, at least."
She gave him a watery smile. "I am. Really, I am. But then you go and change the dynamics of everything…and I'm not sure what to think."
"It can't be so hard to imagine us as friends, can it?" He asked.
She blushed. She'd been imagining him -vividly- as so much more. "No…It's just…this stupid baby thing has muddled with my ability to think rationally." Well, it wasn't exactly a lie.
"Indeed…"
"And, even though the symptoms are quite weakened, it's still a far cry from my normal state. Which has me on edge."
He'd been right, she decided, as she spoke without inhibition. Talking about everything helped. Suddenly, she felt as though the world was being lifted from her shoulders. The problem that followed, though, was her inability to stop talking.
"…And even though I know how I feel is wrong, I can't help being attracted to you…I mean, I had this stupid crush last year, but this whole situation has made it worse and…" Suddenly her mind caught up to her mouth. "Oh, Gods! Ignore that. Please."
He was looking at her incredulously. She was attracted to him. He found it difficult to believe, but, at the look of sheer mortification on her face, he knew it to be true.
Well, that explained her behaviour of late. And it also explained the way she had reacted to Siobhan that Monday.
He almost laughed out loud.
Almost.
"I'm flattered, Hermione…" He replied, finding himself in a very precarious position.
Her gaze was directed at her feet, and her cheeks were ablaze. "I know it's not appropriate for you to say any more than that, sir. Especially as you are seeing Professor Matthews."
"I'm doing no such thing!" He protested, the very thought turning his stomach.
Her eyes darted to his, to make certain that he was telling the truth.
He felt compelled to explain further. "She's made advances, yes, but I have never reciprocated the attention, I assure you."
Hermione frowned, "But, at the lecture, you were holding her hand-"
Snorting, he shook his head. "She'd demanded that I 'assist' her through the crowd…" He trailed off. Why did he feel compelled to justify his actions to a student?
"I'm sorry, sir…I just assumed…" She trailed off. "Not that it's any of my business…"
"No," he bristled, "It's not."
The silence that followed was awkward, to say the least.
After a few moments, Hermione rose to leave. "Professor, I apologise for making you uncomfortable. Thank you for listening to me. You've made me feel much better, but I fear it was at the expense of any possibility of us forming a friendship, as you'd have liked."
He nodded at her and watched her leave. As she approached the door, he called after her. "Miss Granger?"
She turned around, an eyebrow arched. "Yes, sir?"
"I really am quite flattered."
She blushed. "Thank you, sir."
He stared at the door for what felt like hours after she'd gone, his brain attempting to process the information.
She found him attractive. Him. The greasy haired, hook-nosed bat of the dungeons. It was unfathomable. And yet, he mused, it was true.
And he was genuinely flattered. After all, it certainly wasn't everyday that good-looking young women informed him that he was the object of their desires. He felt somewhat younger and rather virile, simply from the knowledge that...
His mind came crashing to a halt.
He'd thought her to be 'good-looking'. On some subconscious level, he had looked at her as something other than a student...He'd looked at her as a woman...And he'd come to the conclusion that she was physically attractive.
When had this happened? Had he been conscious of his lecherous observations at the time, he'd have resigned on the spot!
It just wasn't right to be looking at students in that fashion!
Ah, he thought to himself, But you have said so yourself; you are no longer her teacher...
He shook the thoughts from his head forcefully. He was still a Professor and she a student. Whether he taught her or not was not relevant.
An image of the girl sprang unbidden to his mind. He pictured her legs, the skin smooth and creamy. He envisioned her hips... those perfect child-bearing hips that swayed as she walked. The swell of her breasts, evident under the clingy school jumper...
Albus, damn him, had been correct when he'd said that Hermione was his usual type. She was not skin and bone, and she had a classical sort of beauty; one that did not require thick layers of make-up to catch attention. Her hair was still an untameable mess, but his was nothing to be desired, either...
Again the traitorous musings were banished to the dark recesses of his mind. They were not appropriate and, though he was now aware that they had existed since that very first encounter in the Headmaster's office, he refused to acknowledge them any longer.
Hermione -Damn it!- Miss Granger was his student and it was probably best for the both of them if he acknowledged her wishes and continued to treat her as such, rather than attempting the 'friendship' business again. It would keep them both out of trouble, at any rate.
Of course, that meant he would have to find another way to trounce his employer.
-?-
Well, Hermione thought later that evening, tucked up in her bed, his reaction could have been far worse.
He could have yelled. He could have ranted. He could have told her that he was repulsed by the notion…but, instead, he had complimented her, and had allowed her to leave with dignity.
Of course, this only made her feel more sentimental towards him.
Blast it all!
The 'baby' kicked, almost as testament to her frustration.
She sighed. At least he wasn't seeing that blasted woman. She wasn't certain whether she was relieved, though, as that meant that he was either seeing someone else, or was a rather eligible bachelor. Now, she could probably accept the fact that someone else had snapped him up, but if he were single…well…that would only bolster her fantasies more.
And that simply wouldn't do. She had humiliated and degraded herself enough already.
They were back to teacher-student titles as well, which, she supposed, was a good thing.
Or was it?
She savoured the familiarity of 'Miss Granger', but now felt a deep sense of loss that she could only attribute to 'what if' scenarios.
What if Professor Snape and I had become friends?
What if it could have developed into more?
What if...
There were hundreds of questions such as those, and an even larger number of possible outcomes in return.
Did she regret fighting his attempts to become something more than teacher and student? Should she regret it? Would it be wrong if she did?
With a sigh, Hermione rolled over, hoping to leave her problems on the other side of the bed. Sadly, she knew, life was not that simple.
-?-
On the other side of the castle, Severus Snape awoke from a steamy -yet thoroughly disturbing- dream and switched his bedside lamp on.
He knew that any attempts to return to sleep would be futile.
He glared into the light, willing it to burn the image of his dream from his mind, all the while damning a certain Gryffindor know-it-all to hell.
A/N- Okay, I hope you enjoyed this one...let me know what you thought...