Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling.
Revised, split up into chapters, and reposted on 2-4-10
The Dool Tree
Chapter 7
When she arrived in the library, Hermione was surprised to see Severus Snape, occupying one corner to which she happened to be rather partial. She wasn't sure whether to approach or to go away, upon seeing him there, but she had already disturbed his reading and he was staring at her, so she ventured to go nearer.
"Hi," she greeted him warily, not at all sure how she should attack this particular problem. Maybe he's different in this time.
She couldn't forget the letter that Lily had received from him last night that had made her cry because of the tear-stains on it.
Maybe the first war did something to him that made him really nasty, she thought to herself.
"Hello," he replied, his eyes going back to his book. As she searched him for evidence of distress that the letter implicated, she was surprised at how calm he seemed. I wonder if he always was suffering...and just hid it very well? she wondered idly as she stood there.
But she just kept standing there, and he didn't seem to intend to extend any branch of friendship.
Well, I don't care, Hermione was thinking, preparing to leave. Then he put his book down, and she noticed that his face was taut, and his eyes were focused intently on her, as if he were trying to decipher her every thought.
Eerie, she decided, thoroughly creeped out, but then he spoke:
"I don't know who you are."
"And you think I know who you are?" replied Hermione dispassionately, her irritation from breakfast surfacing and directing itself at him. Though, as soon as she said it she realized what she had said, she knew that it was quite a lie. Well, I can't exactly lay out my history to anyone, especially someone as horrid as Snape. Even if I weren't forbidden...what if he used it against me?
"I think you know more about me than I know about you," Severus Snape replied, completely unruffled. From his demeanor, one would never suspect that he'd been so emotional in front of her the day before; instead, he was treating her as if she were a total stranger. In retrospect, all he did was take a tissue from me and say 'thanks' for it... Hermione mused.
"Why do you say that?" Hermione asked aloud.
"What do you want from me?" he countered, sitting rimrod-straight and sneering.
She shook her head. "Nothing. I don't really follow your logic, though."
He sat back in his chair. "Really. Must I elucidate? You helped me, Miss..."
"...Granger," she supplied primly.
"You were of some assistance to me, Miss Granger," he repeated, with perfect intonation, "and, moreover, you were kind. In my experience, such never come without certain expectations to follow. However, seeing as I don't know you, then I suppose you have connections to someone who does know me. Otherwise, how would you know that I have anything to offer?"
"Wait a minute," Hermione replied, sitting down in the chair next to him, "you think I was being nice yesterday because I want something from you?"
"Don't beat about the bush, Miss Granger. I don't like playing mind games with Gryffindors; your sort only thinks it can be tricky, and in the end only makes a fool of itself. Therefore, simply be blunt; it will save yourself embarrassment and myself a headache. And, since I presume that you want the services of my mind, it will be to your advantage that I don't have a headache."
"I haven't the foggiest," replied Hermione, "what you're talking about. I guess if you think in terms of barter, you make some sense, but as for myself...I don't operate that way."
He seemed crestfallen. "So you really are just an oblivious oaf who happens to think herself a knight in shining armor," he scoffed.
"You could think of it that way, yes," Hermione replied, "but in my world, Professor, that's called just being nice."
His eyes gleamed, though in delight or malice she couldn't tell. "'Professor?' Is that an example of your sterling sarcasm, Miss Granger?"
"I...oh!"
Her cheeks flushed, and he laughed.
"I see," he remarked scathingly, "that you consider all the world your classroom, and the men and women merely teachers."
"Far from it," she said, fuming, though she halfway wanted to laugh at his bastardization of Shakespeare. "Maybe a Hufflepuff scholar, but not me! One can't learn much at all from an idiot!"
"Indeed," Severus Snape replied silkily, "though that doesn't explain why you would call me 'Professor', does it?"
She sighed in exasperation and shook her head. "Maybe sometime I'll tell you, Professor," she said, though this latter time she was completely aware of herself calling him that. I just can't call him Severus. Snape would be all right, but considering how many times over the years I've corrected the boys—'Professor Snape, Harry!'—I've got no choice. I've drilled the 'Professor' in, so well that I can't just let go of it.
"I'm definitely curious," he replied carefully. "Now, are you sure there isn't some favor you're after?"
She hesitated.
"Well," she said quietly, "I'd rather like this corner. It's my favorite."
He laughed bitterly. "I heard you were new here," Severus Snape said. "You're from Australia, aren't you? Came just yesterday?"
So, he knows nothing about me, eh? Hermione thought with some amusement. He's been putting me on.
"In that case," Snape continued, "I don't believe you've been here long enough to have a 'favorite corner'. So no, I won't relinquish it. It happens to be my 'favorite corner'."
I'm really terrible at this cover-story thing, Hermione regretted, but she shoved the thought away as irrelevant.
"Then how about we share it?" She really didn't want to have to give it up, or wait until Snape left to use it; it was smack where the Potions and Arithmancy sections met, and those were the two areas for which she had to look up the most research.
He shrugged. "The table's big enough for two." With that, he moved his chair over and shoved some of the books he had open to the side.
It was thus that she began to have further interaction with Severus Snape.
. . . x . . . X . . . x . . .
Please review!
