He was Naive

I am not in his bed.

Severus Snape, that absolute git, has managed to ignore every single advance that I have made

thus far.

I'm just a tad miffed, that's all.

* * * * *

I was sitting in the Great Hall, eating breakfast and waiting for Severus to show up. It was early Saturday morning and we have an excursion planned for later. I'd had some Charms books come in, and I knew there was a tome at Flourish and Blotts that he'd been salivating over.

It had taken me my first year of teaching to come to grips with my feelings. I've never been good at not thinking, and I'm sure I've already analysed a few relationships to a painful, unromantic demise. I considered it a personal triumph for me to finally realise that I fancied Severus Snape.

(Alright, more than fancy. I think he's bloody marvellous, and I have spent the past year trying to get him to realise my affections. But, to my utter consternation, I've gotten nowhere! Nothing. Nada. Zilch to reward my efforts.)

I looked up when Severus walked through the door, and I smiled. He sat down in the empty chair to my left, and I decided it was the perfect moment for a spot of flirting. As opposed to tea.

I resisted the urge to slap myself in the face for that last thought.

I leaned in his direction and smiled coquettishly. "Are you looking forward to later, Severus?"

No answer. He cut off a pad of butter with his spoon and dumped it into his porridge.

I took my right hand and laid it on his arm. "I know there are some books that I can't wait to get my hands on." I accompanied my statement with a squeeze of said arm and batted eyelashes.

"Pass the sugar, please."

Pass the sugar? Dumbfounded, I did what he asked and passed him the sugar bowl.

I couldn't understand my utter rejection.

I refused to believe that my once being his student was the cause of my rebuff. Sure, that excuse would have worked...ahem...five years ago, when I was his student. However, two years of being colleagues should have quashed that.

I also doubted that my being a Gryffindor had anything to do with it. After all, he and Minerva get along well enough. Once joining the staff at Hogwarts, I had learned that they were actually dear friends, not the bloodthirsty rivals they pretend to be. Ah, politics.

No, I believe that there was a much droller reason for my rejection.

That handsome, bitingly sarcastic, otherwise brilliant man was really, and I mean really, that dense. Was it just a wizard thing, or were all men that blind when it came to taking a hint? To quote Rodgers and Hammerstein, 'What's a matter with the man?'

Blimey, what'd I have to do? Break into his rooms and throw myself on his bed? Oh, and maybe I should be starkers, too!

I found myself grumbling under my breath, and Severus caught me at it. (Finally, something he noticed.)

"Is something bothering you, Professor, or are you usually this petulant in the mornings?" he asked me.

In my pique, I had prepared to give a suitably scathing reply... and stopped myself. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Instead, I smiled. "Oh... I just remembered some paperwork I had to take care of," I lied. "And it's Hermione, Severus. You know that."

"Pardon me," he said, inclining his head. "Old habits die hard." He looked at me with narrowed eyes. I wondered what he was thinking. "We can postpone the trip if you have work you'd rather be doing..."

"That's all right," I answered quickly. I was not going to allow him to weasel out of this trip that easily.

* * * * *

Well, that was fun. If you please, put extra emphasis on the sarcasm.

I had never been so humiliated in my life.

We were leaving Flourish and Blotts, our arms full of new treasures, when one of those picture perfect, only-happens-in-a-chick-flic kind of moment happened. It was as if I were viewing everything from behind a surreal, glowing mist. The sun had finally broken through the fog of London and illuminated the worn stones of Diagon Alley. Colours seemed brighter and truer, and I'm sure I heard birds chirping merrily above our heads. I happened to look up at the exact moment that the sunlight caught Severus' hair, making it gleam blue-black against his pale skin. As he turned to see if I were following, I received the only genuine, true smile that he had ever given me. A smile, not a smirk! Ha!

In that moment, he was handsome. No, it wasn't in the Lockheartian sense of the word, but handsome in a way that you see a person's faults and they seem dearer for it. I felt my heart skip a beat (how sweet!), and I gave him a blushing smile in return.

I glanced up at him through my eyelashes and knew it was the proper moment to finally bare my heart to him... Was that the ground?

I fell flat on my face.

Ow.

No, really... Ow.

Where's a mediwitch when you need one?

* * * * *

We returned to Hogwarts and I was nearly in tears. I had embarrassed myself in front of the man I lov... er, greatly admire, and beyond his normal concern for a colleague, there was no sense of emotion. Nothing beyond, "You're not usually this clumsy."

Clumsy? Clumsy!

Argh!

I walked swiftly to my quarters and threw myself on the bed like a petulant teenager. Tears welled up in my eyes, and as much as I tried to hold it back, I had already begun to sniffle.

"I'm not going to cry, I'm not!" I told myself. Evidently, my body wasn't listening, for I began to cry in earnest.

Maybe I should just give up. No, not just on Snape, but on love in general. Krum was a mistake, Ron is... well, he's like my brother, as much as we tried otherwise, and I'm sure I'd only get in the way of his Quidditch groupies.

I threw a pillow off my bed, and it hit the wall with an unsatisfying thud.

"I give up!" I said to the room. "I give up!"

I wanted to rip my hair out.

I wanted to scream until the whole castle could hear me.

I wanted to shred every sentimental thought I've ever had.

I wanted to go down there and beat him until...

I stopped my rampage and looked at the mirror. My reflection seemed to be laughing at me. I was sweaty, my face was mottled in my fury, and tears had dampened my cheeks. In a fit, I pulled out my wand and pointed it at the mirror, determined to blast it to kingdom come.

I paused, looked at my reflection, and I realized I had been going about this the wrong way. Severus would have never expected subtle from me, of all people. In all of his dealings with me, I had been direct and to the point. Maybe that's why my flirting had failed. It... it wasn't me.

I lowered my wand.

There's a reason why the Gryffindor mascot is a lion. I'd had enough of this fit of melodrama.

I was going to charge down there and get what I wanted.

* * * * *

The time was ripe. It was Severus' turn for evening rounds, and I had just the perfect thing to wear... somewhere.

I had a negligee whose sole purpose was to be taken off (rather than worn), courtesy of Ginny Weasley. She had given it to me as a gag gift for my twenty-first birthday, complete with an admonition to not become a cat lady. Shortly thereafter, she learned that she wasn't the only one who could cast a Bat-Bogey hex.

I slipped on the ice-blue gown and shivered as the satin slid over my skin. I donned my professorial robes over that, stepped into my shoes, and slipped out the door.

* * * * *

Oh, bugger.

Thrice damned bugger.

I forgot one important detail in planning this excursion: Severus Snape has wards to rival Gringotts.

I was standing in the dungeon corridor, hoping nobody would come by, and seriously regretting my choice of attire.

Now, I knew better than to tamper with another wizard's wards, especially one whose paranoia was only surpassed by Moody's, so I looked for alternative means of entering. There was a painting covering his chamber door, not that it would do me much good without the password, or someone to give the password to...

Was that whistling?

I leaned over and peered down at the pastoral scene and heard a rather wolfish whistle.

"Nice view there, mum. Do you mind leaning over a bit further?"

"I beg your pardon!" I said with no small amount of outrage to the small shepherd peering at me from behind a tree.

"Just a little show?"

This painting had no idea just how close it was to destruction.

"Please?"

"No."

"O come off it, luv... how much action d'ya think I'm gettin' down 'ere anyways? You're a sight fairer than ol' greasy any day," the shepherd chuffed.

I removed my arms from their protective placement across my chest as a plan developed. "'A sight fairer,' you say." I glanced down at what I assumed was the door's guardian. "What would you do for a proper look?"

On principle, I'm generally opposed to such debasement and cheapening of the female figure (not to mention how Harry and Ron would have a heart attack if they knew), but I was desperate! I could see the shepherd salivate and nearly trip over himself in his haste to enter the foreground as quickly as possible.

"You'd do that fer me, mum?"

I loosened my grip on the front of my robes. "And your trade?" I asked again.

"I... uh... I'd let... I'd letcha through t'door!" he finally stuttered. "Yeah, and not breathe a word; swear it on me honour!"

I smirked. It may not be the most satisfactory means, but certainly the quickest. I obligingly opened my robes, and the portrait nearly fainted.

"Bless you..." he said, and the door to Severus' chambers swung open.

Men. Berks, the whole lot of them.

* * * * *

I had awakened as he was readying to leave his bedroom. I didn't know how long he had been standing there, but there was an uncharacteristic aura of dejection about him and he seemed unguarded in his actions.

"Severus?"

He stilled on his way to the door but did not turn around.

"I've been waiting for you." I hoped that he wouldn't throw me out.

"What do you want?" was his terse reply.

"I tried subtle, but gave up and decided to go for direct." It seemed that I was safe, but would he stay and hear me out?

"Answer me, witch."

He had the temerity not to understand my intentions. Was my being asleep in his bed not proof enough?

I gave him a warm smile and knew my eyes betrayed my longing.

"You."