Coming Out

Hermione found it odd to suddenly have her life back to normal. Once Andrene left, Hermione returned to classes, study, and hanging out with Ron and Harry as she always did. Well, it wasn't all the same. A month had passed since Andrene left, and Hermione was beginning to suspect Harry was insane when he said Professor Snape in any way cared for her. While Professor Snape had never been exactly pleasant to her in class, now he was an absolute terror. If she volunteered to answer one of his questions he berated her for doing so. If she refused to raise her hand, then she was met with various versions of the phrase "Can it be possible that such a ridiculously easy question has finally stumped Gryffindor's resident know-it-all?" Knowing that her Professor could not acknowledge the softer relationship that they had shared during her troubles, Hermione was nevertheless unprepared for a Potions master who seemed to exist only to make her life a living hell. He was particularly cruel to her if she showed Harry any attention and when Hermione tried reading his feelings she got an inexplicable mix of anger and jealousy. Surely he wasn't jealous of Harry? That was insane! Harry was his nephew's boyfriend, didn't he know that? Hmmm...something was going on, and she'd better get to the bottom of it. After one particularly hateful Potions class, Hermione told Harry to meet her in the room of requirement after dinner and bring his boyfriend along.

When Harry and Draco arrived, they found a pacing, scowling Hermione. She barely took the time to hit the door with the appropriate safeguards before rounding on Draco.

"Draco, does your uncle know about you and Harry?" she put forth with all seriousness.

"Well...he knows what the Order knows...I'm supposedly roping Harry into a relationship for the Death Eaters, so I can spy in addition to Snape," Draco said evasively.

"You mean to tell me you've never told your own uncle the relationship itself isn't a fake?" Hermione asked with a growl.

"The subject never came up, really..."

"Draco Malfoy! You adore your uncle--I know you do. He's the reason you joined the Order in the first place. I simply cannot believe you'd keep such a thing from him!" Hermione exclaimed.

"And exactly what bloody business is it of yours? I know you fancy Snape, and Harry has this ridiculous theory that he fancies you as well, but quite frankly, I just don't see it. The way he's been treating you in class lately...oh, bloody fuck!" Draco's eyes suddenly went wide in surprise.

"'Oh, bloody fuck' sums it up nicely. I didn't figure out what the problem was until today. Professor Snape gets particularly horrid if I so much as look at Harry in class. It hadn't occurred to me he wouldn't already know how ridiculous the idea was."

"You're going to have to tell him, Draco," Harry interjected.

"Tell him? Why do I have to tell him? He's the only real family I feel like I have, Harry, other than you. What if he throws a fit? What if he can't deal with 'actually gay' Draco when I tell him it's not just a Slytherin ploy?" Though Draco's tone was light, there was honest worry in his blue eyes.

"Draco," Harry said softly, "Snape is your family--along with me. I don't think you're giving him enough credit. He's going to figure it out at some point. Besides, if I'm right about how he feels about Hermione, he may be so relieved I'm not shagging Hermione, he won't be too upset that I'm shagging you!" Harry finished with a grin.

With a resigned sigh, Draco agreed to talk with Snape the next day.

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Draco was as good as his word and had the proposed talk with his uncle the following evening. Severus didn't throw a fit, he simply appeared utterly confounded. When he eventually found his voice, he assured Draco he couldn't be arsed whom his nephew dated and asked Draco what the devil it had to do with him? In short, he acted his normal snarky self and Draco was pleased with the whole conversation.

Hermione was less pleased with the conversation when Harry told her about it. Though she was happy Draco had nothing to worry about where his uncle was concerned, she'd been rather hoping to get some clue of the stubborn man's feelings for her, if he indeed had any other than exasperation. Deciding there was nothing to be done until seeing how her Professor behaved next potions class, Hermione passed the time in a flurry of worry and studying.

Hermione's next Potions class was an eye opener, indeed. While it was true her Professor made the occasional snarky remark, the remarks themselves held none of the venom of the previous month. Looking up from stirring her potion of the day, Hermione caught him watching her. Their gaze held for but a moment before he dropped his eyes to the papers he'd been grading. She couldn't quite read his emotions--the wall of protectiveness she'd found so comforting was back in place. Though she practiced daily, her skills were growing at a snail's pace and she continued to have difficulty reading anything but the strongest of emotions from the secretive man. Well, she thought to herself with a mental smirk, I know one thing I can do.

When class ended, Hermione told Harry to go ahead, then took an unusually long time tidying her station and packing her knapsack. The final student to leave, when Hermione reached the door she paused to address her Professor. "Sir," she called, "I had a question about the last homework assignment. Could you spare a moment?"

Standing before his desk, he stared at her for a minute before replying. "I suspect, Miss Granger, you will hardly leave me a moment's peace until I answer whatever niggling question is keeping you awake nights," he replied in a world-weary voice.

Closing the classroom door, Hermione secured it with both locking and silencing charms before abandoning her knapsack and approaching Professor Snape. Severus gasped audibly when she wrapped her arms about his waist in a firm hug, resting her head against his chest. He moved to give her an awkward pat, but ended up resting one hand softly against her shoulder. Hermione could feel his warm breath stirring her hair. Twice she heard his sharp intake of breath, as if he intended to speak--yet he remained silent. Indulging herself for what seemed like an age, Hermione at last released her Potions Professor. She paused to look up at him, smiling warmly, then retrieved her knapsack and left the classroom. Severus again failed to manage one word in the entire exchange. Staring after her, Severus heard Hermione greet Ron and Harry through the now open classroom door. Good, the thrice-damned boys had waited for her. Miss Granger wasn't safe alone in Slytherin territory; Severus was a little surprised the boys had shown that much insight. It was dangerous for her to have stayed after class at all.

"Did you manage to wring any answers out of the git?" Ron hissed.

"I don't know why you even try, Hermione, when it's so obvious he hates you," added Harry.

"Oh, he eventually answers my questions," Hermione lied in an exasperated voice, "I simply have to endure eight to ten insults first."

Still standing before his desk, eyes focused on the exact point where the young witch had disappeared from his sight, Severus allowed himself a thin smile. Clever girl. The Firewalker was right; Hermione would have made a fine spy. If destiny was kind, this war would be over long before such a fate could befall the girl. Trying in vain to extinguish the memory of warm arms banding his waist, Severus began making preparations for his next class.

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The after-class hugs occurred three more times before Severus found his voice. At first, he'd been content simply to enjoy them. Now wondering why the infuriating girl was behaving in such an inexplicable manner was beginning to keep him awake nights. This could no longer be explained by gratitude, nor could he wave it off as the girl looking for intelligent conversation--as he hadn't managed one intelligent word while alone in her presence since she left his study. The more Severus Snape thought on it, the more incensed he became. There was only one reason he could see for her behavior--she must pity him. Miss Granger must see him as some poor, forlorn, travesty of a man who never received enough hugs. Impossible! He was a formidable wizard, a clever spy, and the bloody head of Slytherin for fuck's sake. He needed no woman's pity and he would not tolerate Hermione's.

Following the next Potions class, Hermione followed the same pattern as the four previous. Turning from the closed and warded classroom door, she did not find Professor Snape standing before his desk but seated, barricaded behind it. Crossing the room to stand before him, Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow and asked, "Is something amiss, Professor?"

"Why are you doing this?" he growled.

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Why is it, Miss Granger, that each and every Potions class ends with you attached to my person like a damned barnacle?" Severus almost shouted. "I will not be mocked, Miss Granger, nor am I in need of your blasted pity."

Andrene was right, the man is completely obtuse where I am concerned. "It's good you do not seek pity, sir, because I have not offered you any," she began. "I remain after class because for one brief moment I am allowed to treat you as I wish I could all the time. I'm fond of you, sir, and miss your company."

The angry flush that had swept over Severus' features slowly faded as he peered at her. His mind was whirling--of all the explanations he'd expected to hear, the one she gave was a complete surprise. The truth was he missed the chit as well--rather desperately in fact. It had driven him mad when he thought the girl cared for Potter; his heart had nearly leaped from his chest when Draco made his startling confession. Then these blasted hugs had begun again. Merlin's balls!! Knowing any sort of friendship between them was unadvisable--for a multitude of reasons--he nevertheless found the though of being at all close to her more tempting than he could withstand. Bugger it. He could never have her love--he knew that--but if this was going to be the last months of his life then he would for once in his miserable existence have a taste of something beautiful, something good. If she wanted to befriend him, then so be it. He was not so altruistic that he could thrust away even this pale happiness.

"Actually Miss Granger, I wanted to have a word with you about that. You befriended my jarvey. Perhaps the plight of a mere animal means little to you, but Turpin was quite taken with you. He's been moping about my chambers since you left and continues attempting to convince me to read that horrid children's book you shared with him. It's been quite rude of you not to have visited him," Severus declared.

Hermione had opened her mouth to defend herself when she suddenly felt his amusement. Typical. Just like her snarky Professor to blame it on the jarvey. Well, two could play this game. "Professor, I'd like nothing better than to visit your chambers. What would you suggest?"

Saucy wench. If he didn't know it was a ridiculous notion, Severus would have thought she was flirting with him. "The password to the door leading to my study is...er...Muggleborn vixen." When this garnered an amused snort from the young Gryffindor, he snapped, "Well, it's not likely to be guessed, is it?"

"No, sir," she said, trying in vain to look contrite. Muggleborn vixen, eh? Perhaps Harry is correct about this situation after all.

"Make certain you use Potter's blasted cloak, Miss Granger. I don't think I need to tell you how dangerous it is for you to be walking the dungeons alone at this time."

"I am aware, sir. I promise to be careful," Hermione said softly.

"See that you do," he snapped. "I am in no position to come racing to your rescue if you waltz into trouble. Well? You've remained long past the time required to ask me some insipid question--no matter how many times I insulted you first," he added with a smirk.

"Certainly, sir," Hermione replied, walking round his desk to stand beside him. "There is just one more thing...if you will stand, please?"

Breathing what was intended to seem a long suffering sigh; Severus stood and faced his stubborn student. "If you must."

"I must," she agreed, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing fiercely. Once again she felt his hand rest softly against her shoulder. "How many is this then?" she asked.

"Eleven," he replied automatically, inwardly cringing at how much that response implied.

Smiling into his chest, Hermione held the hug a moment longer before taking her leave.

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Evening found Severus pacing in his study. Attempting to read had been a dismal failure and he'd given it up almost immediately. He'd graded every last student essay during class time, vainly attempting to ignore the ramifications of his hasty decision to allow Miss Granger access to his study. Now he had nothing constructive to do other than pace and fret. I'm an idiot for working myself into such a state. Giving the chit the password to my study doesn't mean she's going to run down here the first chance she gets. She has class work and friends; surely she's other plans for this evening. I'm a bloody fool for even imagining her rushing down to these dreary dungeons to spend time with her bitter, bad-tempered, and--let's be quite honest here--unattractive Professor. Pausing to stare for a moment into the framed mirror hung over the study's hearth, Severus tried to regard his face objectively. Secretly, Severus rather liked his appearance. He liked his strongly chiseled features and impossibly dark eyes. Severus thought his countenance rather imposing, a good thing for both Professors and spies. He'd never had much reason to care one way or the other about what he looked like until he'd begun having all these blasted feelings for a fresh-faced young student. While Severus was happy enough with himself, he was well aware that, whatever it was your average witch was looking for, he was not it. Scowling at the mirror improved his mood. He did indeed have an impressive scowl, and while he was quite certain it was definitely not what a young witch was looking for, it was a useful expression. Giving the mirror another fierce scowl, he turned to drop gracelessly onto the sofa in an unintentionally elegant sprawl of limbs, again picking up the useless book.

That was how Hermione found him when she quietly entered his study ten minutes later--her delay caused by class work she'd sped through in order to have the remainder of the evening free. Softly closing the door behind her, she turned to find her Potions Professor--barefoot, dressed in shirtsleeves and black trousers--sprawled on the sofa in never-before-witnessed abandon, scowling at the book in his hands. Hermione's heart literally skipped a beat. If she'd possessed any lingering doubts as to whether she found this enigmatic man attractive, they were finally put to rest. It took every last bit of willpower she had not to trot over and pounce on the darkly attractive man.

"Are you going to stand there and stare at me all night," Professor Snape growled, "or are you going to take that bloody cloak off and rescue me from this horrendous book?"

"I'm a Gryffindor," Hermione said with a grin as she removed the invisibility cloak, "we are excellent at rescuing people in distress." Crossing the room to sit at his feet, she asked, "If that book is so terrible, why then are you reading it?"

"It is equally valuable to keep up on what the fools of the wizarding world are thinking as it is to keep up with the wise. Not nearly as enjoyable, but valuable nonetheless," Severus replied, handing Hermione the slim volume he'd been trying to read. It was a book of Potions theory written by a wizard named Formaldius Porcini.

Hermione took one look at the author and gave a very unladylike snort. "I heard this man speak at a symposium in London last summer. He's a complete idiot. I'm surprised you're wasting your time with anything that dolt has written. You are quite correct, sir; you're in dire need of rescuing. I imagine I arrived just in time," she finished with a grin.

The two began an in-depth discussion of the dolt in question--a discussion evolving into a discussion of Potions theory in general. When Turpin came into the room, he greeted Hermione gleefully before curling up half on his master's feet and half in Hermione's lap. He seemed content to lie blinking in the warmth of the fire and listening to his two friends talk. When Severus' clock struck midnight, Hermione was shocked she'd stayed so late. Bidding her Professor goodnight, she demanded he stand for the requisite hug before she once again donned the cloak and departed for Gryffindor tower. Tired as she was, Hermione had as much trouble falling asleep as her Professor did alone in his dungeon rooms.

It had been a most enjoyable evening, indeed.