Quid Pro Quo

Severus Snape was sulking: his arms crossed in front of his chest, his body slumped in the chair, a tiny scowl marking his face as he stared distantly off to his left side, resembling nothing more than a petulant little boy. Minerva sighed. "Severus, I thought I made it clear that you were required to attend the dinner last night." His only response was a noncommittal grunt, forcing a little smile upon her face in spite of the situation. In the Headmistress' eyes, Severus Snape would always be a reflection of the little misanthropic first year she had first met those many years ago. "Mr. Snape, please remind me why you felt that the mandatory attendance did not apply to you." His head snapped up in attention when she addressed him, his face a fleeting mask of contrition.

"It's Professor, now, Headmistress, unless you are alluding to a termination of my position on the grounds of missing a dinner?" he asked innocently with a twisted smile.

She huffed. "Professor, indeed! I don't recall any professors that I've witnessed sitting and pouting in the corner of my office or deliberately disobeying a Headmistress' request. What sort of example are you setting for the children in your house, hmm?"

"I am not pouting!" he shouted a little too enthusiastically and demonstrated her point by further sliding down in the chair with a snort.

"Indeed." She fought valiantly to withhold her chuckle – only a peek of an indulgent grin displayed itself. After a while, a comfortable silence settled upon the two as she continued to observe him, and he continued to mutter incoherently under his breath.

"Something came up," he finally stated with a grumble.

"Oh?"

"Issues... with my apprentice."

"She seemed to be able to adhere to my request. She showed up with Professor Lupin and his wife, Tonks, if my memory is correct."

"Yes, well, I'm sure she did," he spat out derisively.

Long used to his cryptic manner of speaking, Minerva gave Severus a few moments to explain his meaning. When nothing more was said, she prompted, "What sort of issues, my boy?"

"I'd rather not get into it, if you don't mind," he groused, not meeting her eyes.

"Hmmm, I see. You won't object if I invite her to this impromptu meeting, then, I assume? Perhaps she can better explain?"

"By all means, Headmistress," Snape growled with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Minerva gracefully rose to her feet and gingerly maneuvered her way around her desk to the fireplace, noticing the younger wizard's narrowed eyes following her every movement. Slowly, she extracted the Floo powder from within its porcelain container and tossed it into the fire with the words, "Hermione Granger," pretending not to notice the contemptuous snort that issued from behind her. As she leaned into the fire to retrieve his apprentice, Severus took the opportunity to adjust his posture and place a more intimidating scowl upon his features.

Moments later, McGonagall pulled herself away from the fireplace to make room for the younger witch to step through. The younger witch who looked decidedly frazzled and slightly frightened. Snape stood and flashed her a predatory grin, watching with undisguised glee as the color drained from her face.

Minerva took a few minutes to observe this interaction with fascination before she said kindly, "Please, take a seat, Hermione. Would you like some tea?"

"N...no thank you," the apprentice stammered, her eyes still locked with the narrowed eyes of the older wizard. The Headmistress frowned at Severus, wordlessly conveying to him to cease his customary bullying tactics as she summoned forth a chair for her former Gryffindor. Snape merely shot Minerva another innocent look in response.

Ignoring him, she spoke to Hermione, who was currently taking the seat offered to her beside the Potions master, her expression flushed with uncertainty. "Dear, please tell me how you have been? How is the apprenticeship going?" Here, McGonagall noticed a questioning glance that the younger witch sent to Severus, so the Headmistress quickly added, "Don't look at him, Hermione. Please, just ignore his presence for the time being." At this, the wizard snorted loudly.

Hermione found herself fidgeting as she looked up to her former Head of House, who was presently standing and leaning back against her desk. "Uhm... well, I think everything's going all right. We... erm... we had a few bumps, but I think we've smoothed them out?" Again, she stole a quick glance to the sour man seated to her right and was rewarded with yet another obnoxious snort.

"Right, right. Well, Severus was just telling me you and he had met with a few issues last night preceding the dinner, and though he won't explain this problem, he seems to think it excused him from attending the feast. I asked you here to see if you could clarify to me what happened, so that I might better address this concern. I, of course, expect the two of you," and here she glared openly at Snape, "to get along amicably."

"I... Well, that is," Hermione began haltingly. "We had a bit of a disagreement, and..."

"She molested me," stated Severus matter-of-factly. His expression was shuttered.

"I did not!" the younger witch shrieked in terror, her eyes darting between her two former professors frantically. The memory of the photograph Hermione had recently discovered surged to the front of her mind, unbidden. She felt a deep, heart-wrenching pain that he would insinuate that she would have been capable of committing such an atrocious act – that he would even remotely compare her attempts at healing to that. Her palms began to tremble in sudden shame. Did he really think that was what I was doing?

"Severus!" shouted Minerva angrily. "That is quite unnecessary! There will be no outlandish accusations in this office!"

Snape shrugged indifferently as he leveled a dark stare at the Headmistress.

Watching the exchange, Hermione stammered, "I–I... He was hurt, Professor McGonagall, and I thought..."

Minerva blinked, the words rousing her from her reflections. "Hurt, Hermione? How?"

"Yes, please explain, Miss Granger," drawled the wizard as he leaned back in his chair and spitefully began to examine his fingernails thoughtfully. Both witches turned to glare at him.

"H–He... I didn't mean to...I mean, I did mean to, but not so hard, I swear!" Hermione pleaded.

"She slapped me," he clarified.

"Well, yes, all right, I did slap him..."

"Hard," he amended.

"That's enough, Severus! Let her speak!" scolded Minerva as she focused her attention back to the apprentice. "Go on, dear."

"I did. I slapped him. I'm terribly sorry...it was awfully disrespectful. I'm really, really sorry!"

As Minerva drew in a breath to further question the young woman, Snape interrupted with a smooth tone, "That's not all she did."

"I don't need your commentary, Severus! Let her speak! If you recall, I gave you a chance to tell your side of the tale, and you wasted it!" hissed the Headmistress. Again, the wizard gave a dismissive shrug. She looked again to Hermione with an expression that urged the young witch to continue.

"I...IkickedhimbetweenthelegsreallyhardandhegotsickandI'msorry!" the apprentice cried out in one breath as she leapt to her feet.

"What?"

"I was scared, but that's no excuse, I know! I... He came at me..."

"I did not!" howled Snape as he vaulted from his chair. Minerva hushed him violently.

"He came at you, dear?"

"Well, I mean... I slapped him, and he fell, and then he said, 'How dare you,'" Hermione did her best to impersonate her employer before continuing, "And he started walking toward me, and I just... I kicked him. I'm sorry. I take full responsibility." Hermione sighed and proudly pushed out her chin, looking for all the world as though she would willingly march to the gallows for her sin.

McGonagall had a deep frown etched into her face as she gazed at the brave young witch before her. "Well, I am certainly disappointed in your actions, Hermione..."

"Ah, she has more to tell," interrupted Snape with a sly grin.

Hermione shot him a nasty look and then winced as she said, "I... I Side-Along Apparated the both of us, and he was...well, he was sick, because of... of..."

"The assault," Snape calmly offered.

"Yes, and... it made him more sick. And he fell because he was dizzy, you see, and hit his head on the gates...the, the gates here at Hogwarts, you know, and it cut his head, and he passed out, and I, uhm... I was scared, and I couldn't get him into the castle, and I asked Remus to help." Here, she paused briefly at the sight of the malicious glare directed at her from the wizard before continuing, "So, so Remus and I, we...I used up all my energy to Side-Along! He, he Moblicorpused Professor Snape, and we took him to the Potions classroom, and I thought I could heal him because...because he wouldn't want anyone to know! I know he wouldn't! I was trying to protect his privacy." Snape snorted loudly once again, throwing Hermione off track for a moment before she could once again pick up the thread of her plea. "So I told Remus to go home and get Tonks because she was waiting on him, you know, and I... I found some potions there to, uh... to heal the bruising from when I slapped him and... and... well... Deflating Draught for the, uhm... the, the swelling... and I applied... cream for the pain to... toallaffectedareas!" The last part of her speech ran together quickly as she threw herself back in her chair, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks freely.

Snape smirked satisfactorily, returning to his seat, and motioned at Hermione as though this explained his absence from the dinner, and subsequent behavior, perfectly. The Headmistress peered at both her former students in absolute shocked silence. For moments, the only sign of life was that her mouth opened and closed in perfect demonstration of a fish. Severus' smirk grew into a smile that inched its way to larger proportions by the second, becoming more sinister and dangerous as the minutes passed by.

Finally, Minerva found her voice. "Miss Granger, your actions were deplorable! I thought I could expect better of you!" Snape perched on the edge of his seat, his joy no longer contained by a smile alone; it had graduated into a fully villainous grin. "However," and here Snape's expression fell as McGonagall shifted her gaze to him, "I would like to know where you two were when this happened. Why did you have to Apparate at all?"

The wizard made a short, sharp noise at the young woman beside him, trying in vain to wordlessly convey to her that she should remain silent, yet she ignored him. "Because he took me to the Malfoys, Professor. He didn't say where we were going, just said I had to go. When we got there, I wanted to leave, but he said to stay. He offered another apprenticeship to Pansy Malfoy, and it all happened so quickly because I think one of the Malfoys drugged me...or us, I don't know."

"What?" the older witch shrieked. She stared at the wizard with an expression of pure, undiluted rage.

"Now, Headmistress, it really is not quite as terrible as Miss Granger makes it..."

"Severus Snape," she growled. "How dare you take Miss Granger, of all people, to the Malfoy home unprotected..."

"Unprotected?" he roared. "She was fully protected! I did not let her out of my sight for..."

"Enough!" Minerva shouted. She placed a hand over her eyes in exasperation.

A tinny voice suddenly piped up, "If I may, Minerva, the lady's actions certainly warrant legal action. If ever a student disrespected me..."

"Shut up!" all three shouted in unison at the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black.

"Well, I never! A pox on the whole lot of you!" he cried out before disappearing from his frame. A few nervous titters were heard throughout the office from the remaining portrait figures as they looked on.

Snape resumed his sulking position, slumped down in his chair with arms crossed over his chest and a pouting expression, glaring down at his shoes. Hermione tried desperately to wipe away her tears.

"I just don't know what to do with you two," sighed Minerva. "I'm deeply disappointed in your behavior, both of you." She paused. "I'm at a loss right now, to be quite honest. Though you both may act like it, you aren't children anymore, and this can't be resolved with detentions, docking of house points, or even expulsion." She shook her head. "Both of you leave my office. There will be punishments, but I need time to think on it. If you both insist on acting like children, you will be punished like children. Go."

She watched them stroll out of the room in silence. "Oh, and Severus?"

Both turned, but it was Snape who replied, "Yes, Headmistress?"

"There will be no other apprentices."

***

Hermione walked briskly beside her employer through the dark corridors of the dungeons. Despite his attempts to subtly shake her off, she had followed him, intent on resolving this issue that created an impregnable barrier between them. Indignation swelled between the two, a passionate anger that embraced them both more and more tightly with each step they took. Finally, she could keep quiet no longer.

"You...you arrogant bastard!"

He halted abruptly and glared down at her from his impressive height, but held his tongue. Further encouraged, she roared, "I meant it when I apologized! I..."

But he silently interrupted her impeding rant by quickly advancing in her direction, a dangerous glint surfacing in those black eyes. Her heart rate tripled in speed as she was backed up against the cold wall; her breath hitched in her throat.

He continued to stare down at her pensively, cocking his head to the side as though she were an intriguing potions ingredient, an object to be studied, rather than a human being. Hermione felt a sharp twinge of claustrophobia under his scrutiny as he edged even closer still, closing the space between them rapidly. She could smell his scent, feel the heat his body radiated. She could also feel the surging power that sparked around his figure, as well as his fierce, masculine energy that circulated around the tiny hallway, drowning her.

"What do you want from me?" he asked in a quiet, silky tone. The pitch, the timbre of his voice melted away her thoughts, her anger, but not her fear. In the Headmistress' office, mere moments ago, he was a cheeky, disdainful, insufferable, immature, cocky semblance of a whining child. Now, the guise was gone, and she shakily stood before a commanding, compelling, potent man – and where she expected terror to flood her veins, she instead felt a rush of primal attraction overwhelming her instinctual fear. His body was flush against hers now, and while her breathing had become ragged, his remained detestably steady.

She winced as she heard the word escape her mouth: "Bastard."

He chuckled: a pleasant, low, rumbling laugh. His knee inched upwards, prying apart her legs carefully. Seductively. "Quid pro quo, Miss Granger?" he whispered into her ear, pressing her shoulders back against the wall, holding her captive with not only his body, but also his voice.

Too dazed to attempt to decipher his question, she merely nodded. He held her attention as she watched, entranced and confused, his tongue sweep over his lips suggestively. She found herself slightly aroused under his lustful gaze, this dangerous, unpredictable, powerful man that she felt she knew – felt as though she had shared his emotional past in some way... He laughed again, though the tone of it changed perceptibly – it seemed malicious, suddenly.

She stared into his eyes, seeking for some tell-tale sign that would express his mood, his thoughts. But they were blank. Cold. Shuttered. Much like the image of him as a child that haunted her dreams. Now came the terror, washing over her every sense, the horrifying realization that...

"This is what you want, Granger?" His voice dripped with revulsion.

No, this is wrong: something, everything, is horribly, terribly wrong! she screamed internally. She opened her mouth to try and explain, to attempt to reverse the dynamic that now played out before her – but her words were soundless.

Smiling malevolently at her, he retreated slowly, silently mouthing the words, "Quid pro quo."

Author's Note – Loads of gratitude to the amazing, gifted, magical Angel Mischa for tirelessly sifting through the mounds of mistakes to get this polished chapter to you – and also heaps of thank yous to the always-deserving, wonderful, talented Amsev for late night chats and plot discussions. Without these two, this story would not exist.

Also, this chapter is probably the first that has no warnings attached to it. If I've overlooked something that needed a warning, please let me know. I figure that those of you who stuck with this tale after the last chapter, well, this chapter should seem G-rated.

Pffft. Warnings, who needs warnings?

Up Next: Pansy enters stage left.