The next few days were a constant struggle for Hermione as she wrestled with her forbidden thoughts. Each passing moment seemed to reinforce her decision to keep her feelings hidden. She had resigned herself to the notion that confessing her affection for her professor would be a grave mistake. The mere thought of giving him such leverage, allowing him more power to belittle and humiliate her, made her stomach churn with unease. She couldn't bear the idea of him using her vulnerability against her in the relentless battle of wits they engaged in daily.
Hermione's frustration grew as she struggled to keep her promise of maintaining focus in class. Despite her best efforts, her mind wandered incessantly, preoccupied with thoughts she knew she shouldn't entertain. She couldn't shake the feeling that Professor Snape must have noticed something amiss with her demeanor by now, but she adamantly refused to acknowledge it, fearing the repercussions of such an admission.
The persistent flutter of butterflies in her stomach persisted, particularly when she found herself admiring Professor Snape as he meticulously brewed potions over a hot cauldron. His focused expression, chiseled features, and commanding presence never failed to quicken her heartbeat. It was a battle of wills within her, torn between the allure of her forbidden feelings and the rational knowledge that pursuing them would only lead to trouble.
Hermione sighed in frustration as she once again found herself unable to focus on her notes. Briefly, she put her head in her hands, feeling overwhelmed by the persistence of her treacherous thoughts. With a determined effort, she willed herself to push them aside, if only for a fleeting moment, and redirect her attention to the task at hand.
When Hermione looked back up from her hands, she winced at the dark glare of her Professor. She knew she had been caught lost in thought again, and the disapproval in his expression was evident. Without further delay, she hastily picked up her quill and tried in vain to focus on writing a few more notes on the task at hand, hoping to divert his attention away from her momentary lapse.
As the final class of the day ended, Hermione stared down at her parchment, well aware that it was not enough to placate the sour man. Frowning, she watched as the class filed out, leaving her alone with her professor. She dared not speak or move from her designated desk, which had become hers over the last few weeks, anticipating what would come next.
The silence in the classroom felt heavy, tension crackling in the air as Hermione remained seated, her heart pounding with apprehension. She could feel Professor Snape's piercing gaze fixed upon her, his presence looming over her like a dark cloud. Every moment that passed felt like an eternity as she waited for him to break the silence, her mind racing with a mix of fear and uncertainty.
As Hermione watched silently, she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as Professor Snape efficiently cleaned the surfaces of the desks and meticulously put away each cauldron. The rhythmic clinks and swishes of his wand only served to accentuate the tense atmosphere in the classroom. She racked her brain for a plausible excuse, knowing all too well that this was the third day in a row she had been completely distracted. However, with each passing moment, she grew increasingly certain that he wouldn't believe a word of it.
"Are you pleased with how your apprenticeship is going so far? Have I been an adequate professor?" Professor Snape said suddenly as he approached her desk. His face was unreadable as he stared at her as if he could read every thought and emotion she had.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat as Professor Snape's voice cut through the silence, his sudden question catching her off guard. She looked up, meeting his gaze with trepidation, her stomach twisting with anxiety. His face was an enigma, betraying nothing as he fixed his penetrating stare upon her, as though he could indeed read every thought and emotion she harbored.
"Yes Professor," Hermione murmured, confused and anxious by what he was getting at. Hermione's response was barely above a whisper, her confusion and anxiety palpable. She couldn't discern his intentions, and the uncertainty gnawed at her, amplifying her discomfort in his presence.
"Then enlighten me," Professor Snape demanded sharply, his anger palpable. "Why have you been unable to focus for the last three days? I despise repeating myself, Ms. Granger. Potion-making requires all your attention, and currently, that is not what I am getting." His tone was biting, his frustration evident.
Hermione began to squirm in her seat, her discomfort evident. "I am sorry, Professor," she spoke in an almost pleading tone, her voice tinged with desperation. She hoped he would understand and give her time to quiet her relentless thoughts. Even as he stood just a few inches away from her, her treacherous thoughts had other ideas, swirling around in her mind like a turbulent storm.
Without a word, Professor Snape snatched her notes off her desk, his movements sharp and precise. He briefly scanned them, his expression unreadable. "You can write introductions longer than this," he remarked mockingly, his tone dripping with disdain. "I have seen you write up to 6 ft on any topic, so why can't you focus on your studies when it matters most?" His words cut through the air like a whip, each syllable laden with disappointment and frustration.
Hermione couldn't bear to meet his penetrating stare. She despised the feeling of disappointment washing over her, knowing she had failed to meet his expectations. With a heavy heart, she acknowledged that she needed to get her head straight or risk jeopardizing the rest of the school year.
Later that evening, Hermione nervously paced back and forth in the shared space of their living quarters. The atmosphere was tense, the air heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension. They had rounds tonight, and with her mind running rampant, Hermione dreaded the prospect. Dinner had been a quiet affair, with minimal conversation exchanged between them. Once they returned to their quarters, Severus disappeared into his study, not emerging until after curfew had passed. Hermione couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gripped her as she awaited their impending duties.
When Severus finally emerged from his study, Hermione maintained a tense silence as they made their way out of the portrait hole. Each held their wand tightly, a silent acknowledgment of the potential dangers lurking within the castle's corridors. The atmosphere between them was heavy with unresolved tension, their footsteps echoing off the cold, stone floors as they walked. The only sounds that accompanied them were the occasional creak of a distant door and the soft rustle of robes as they moved.
Professor Snape's keen ears caught a strange noise emanating from an alcove nearby. With a silent gesture, he warned Hermione to remain silent as he cautiously approached the source of the sound. Moving stealthily, he crept closer to the alcove, his wand at the ready. With a sudden flick, he cast a brilliant light into the shadows, illuminating the hidden space with stark clarity.
Hermione's eyes widened in shock at the scene before her, her cheeks flushing crimson with embarrassment. Feeling utterly mortified, she quickly took several steps back, wanting to distance herself from the awkward situation unfolding in front of her.
In the secluded alcove, two seventh-year students were caught in the midst of having sex. Startled by the sudden intrusion, they froze, their faces reddening as they met the disapproving gaze of Professor Snape. Without a word, they hastily separated, their embarrassment palpable as they realized they had been discovered in such a compromising situation.
"Detention tomorrow at 7," Professor Snape thundered darkly, his voice echoing off the stone walls of the corridor. His eyes bore into the two students, their faces flushed with embarrassment and shame. "Now get back to your dorms immediately, or I'll add on another day," he added with a menacing tone, making it clear he meant business.
Hermione winced in sympathy as the two students retreated immediately from Professor Snape's stern gaze. With a subtle nod from Snape, she fell into step behind him as they continued down the hallway, the tension from the encounter lingering in the air between them.
As they continued down the stretch of hallway, Hermione's treacherous thoughts flooded her mind with intensity. She couldn't help but imagine her professor pulling her into the alcove, his lips meeting hers in a passionate embrace. The vividness of the fantasy sent a rush of heat through her body, and she discreetly shifted her gaze away from him, fearing he might somehow sense her inappropriate desires.
Hermione gritted her teeth, her frustration mounting as she struggled to control her racing thoughts. With a mixture of determination and exasperation, she began to talk to herself in a whispered mantra, hoping to quell the relentless fantasies swirling in her mind. "It's not going to happen, Hermione," she murmured urgently, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're just an apprentice. Now stop it." She repeated the words like a mantra, willing herself to regain control over her unruly thoughts.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat as her professor abruptly halted, his piercing gaze fixated on her. Panic surged within her as she realized she must have spoken aloud, her inner turmoil inadvertently escaping her lips. Caught off guard, she turned to face him, her expression a mixture of confusion and apprehension, unsure of how he would react to her unintended confession.
"Stop what?" Professor Snape's voice was measured, his eyebrow arching with curiosity as he awaited her response.
Hermione's heart raced as she struggled to maintain her composure. The panic coursing through her veins made it difficult to think clearly. "Nothing, Professor," she stammered, her voice wavering slightly. "Just lost in thought. Shall we continue our patrol?" Her attempt to redirect their focus to their duty hung in the air, but before she could make a move, his hand closed around her arm, anchoring her in place with a firm grip.
"I know you've been hiding something from me for the last three days," Professor Snape said suddenly, his tone sharp and perceptive. "You haven't been able to focus on your work, and you haven't asked me incessant questions, which isn't like you. You can't go two seconds without having to speak or say something, so what's changed?"
Professor Snape's voice sliced through the quiet corridor, his words carrying weight and authority. Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine as she realized he had noticed her distraction. His sharp gaze bore into her, probing for answers she wasn't ready to give. She swallowed hard, trying to compose herself before responding.
"I... I'm not sure, Professor," Hermione stammered, her voice betraying her unease. "I've just been... preoccupied with some personal matters. It won't affect my work, I assure you." She hoped her vague explanation would satisfy him, but the intensity of his scrutiny told her otherwise.
"If it's so personal then why do you keep staring at me?" Professor Snape pointed out. "All through class I have caught you numerous times. I've been waiting for you to say something or ask your questions, but you don't say anything.
Hermione felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck as Professor Snape confronted her directly. She struggled to find a suitable response, her mind racing to come up with a plausible explanation.
"I... I'm sorry, Professor," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to... I mean, I'll try to focus more in class."
Her words felt feeble, even to her own ears, but she couldn't bring herself to confess the true nature of her distraction. She prayed he wouldn't press further, but his piercing gaze told her he wasn't satisfied with her evasive answer. Her feet wanted to run. Run to the safety of her quarters and lock herself away.
Professor Snape's tone was stern, his gaze penetrating as he addressed Hermione's excuse. "You said you'll focus more in class three days ago and you haven't," he reiterated, his voice carrying a hint of disappointment.
Hermione felt utterly speechless, unable to articulate the feelings and thoughts she had churning inside her. Under Professor Snape's intense scrutiny, she found herself unable to voice what was truly bothering her or conjure a plausible excuse. The weight of his gaze bore down on her like a heavy burden, and she couldn't endure it any longer. Without a word, she turned and fled down the corridor, her heart pounding in her chest. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, seeking refuge in the safety of her bedroom. Once inside, she hastily erected wards, creating a barrier between herself and the outside world, including Professor Snape. Alone in the quiet of her room, she finally allowed herself to collapse onto her bed, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.