I Saw Her Standing There

Chapter 2: I Saw Her Standing There

Unwavering black eyes glared down at Hermione. She swallowed hard and watched Snape's familiar features darken with displeasure. "I didn't realise you were at the meeting," she said.

"I wasn't," he replied. She waited for an explanation as to why he was at this particular spot, and after a moment of lip-pursing silence, he added, "I had business with the Minister."

"Oh," she said. She'd heard rumours that he worked on 'special projects' for Kingsley, but she'd never seen him at the Ministry. It seemed very clandestine to be meeting in the middle of an empty field like this, but she refrained from mentioning it.

With an air of impatience, he said, "It's a simple Scourgify charm, Miss Granger. Or have you already forgotten everything you learnt in school?"

"Sorry," she replied in a rush. A blush stole across her checks when she realised how long she'd been staring at him, her wand still pointed ridiculously at his face.

"Don't bother." He waved aside her attempts to finish the charm and completed the task himself.

She looked down, embarrassment and frustration battling for supremacy inside her mind.

Just like old times.

She hadn't seen Snape since the first anniversary of the battle at Hogwarts, when he'd received an Order of Merlin, First Class. And although she'd attended the award ceremony as a fellow recipient, she hadn't spoken to him. No one had spoken to him...no one had possessed the forbearance to so much as approach him. Not since he'd taught Defence Against the Dark Arts in her sixth year had she exchanged any words with him. She supposed it was little wonder his presence made her feel as if she were sixteen years old again.

She gestured towards the broom and said, "If you're here for the Portkey, it's been deactivated."

"It matters not," he said.

She appraised the shabby broom with a raised eyebrow, calculating its ability to support two adult riders.

In a somewhat boastful tone, he said, "I hardly require a broom to fly, Miss Granger."

The memory of a Snape-shaped hole in a window at Hogwarts entered her mind as she recalled his departure before the battle. "Yes, I had forgotten: you can fly without a broom."

"That's right," he said, openly sneering at her.

Even on a good day, she really detested being sneered at. And today had not been a good day.

"Hooray for you," she said. "Although, I hear it's easier if you open the window first." She tried to mimic his sneer.

He stared at her, his jaw hanging open.

She expected him to hurl one of his usual insults and was therefore quite surprised when his mouth snapped shut and his lips twitched.

Perhaps he's mellowed since the war. Now that the initial shock of seeing him had passed, she took a moment to consider him closer. Certainly he looked a bit different: his hair was shorter and swept back from his forehead. His features, which had always been striking in their intensity, had changed somehow...his face no longer bore the ugliness of being so frequently twisted by malice and anger. Maybe the years have softened his hatred... Maybe his personality has improved with the passage of time.

"Are you quite done gawking, Miss Granger?" he asked.

Then again, maybe not.

She flushed again and fought the urge to look away. Ignoring his question, she tried not to sound defensive and asked, "Why are you here, if not for the Portkey?"

With more patience than she'd imagined him capable of, he explained, "I saw you walking in circles and muttering to yourself. From a distance, you appeared to have been Confunded. I had little choice but to investigate."

A smile tugged at her mouth when she pictured how ridiculous she must have looked. Tilting her head, she folded her arms and regarded him anew. She had never pictured him as the sort of man who'd offer assistance to random strangers.

"I was looking for the Portkey," she explained.

His gaze flicked to the broom lying in plain sight on the ground.

"Have you considered asking a Healer to examine your vision?" he asked, and although there was sarcasm in his tone, it was mild...almost teasing.

She couldn't suppress the grin that dimpled her cheeks. Rather than hide her naïveté, she replied with the truth.

"That broom just appeared...it had been Disillusioned. A practical joke by my co-workers..."

"I see," he said. His brows drew together as he scrutinized her. He seemed to be on the verge of speaking, and she was a bit disappointed when he remained silent. He walked to the broom and scooped it from the ground.

"A rather ineffective joke, seeing how they provided a mode of transportation," he told her, holding the broom out.

"Yes." She bit her lip. There weren't many things she hated quite as much as flying.

She reached for the offending mass of wood and straw, surprised when their fingertips brushed and sent a jolt of energy up her arm. She stood transfixed for a moment, staring at his hand, lost in the sight of long, elegant fingers. Jerking her gaze away, she looked up, only to be hit by an even more shocking sensation. Too late, she realised she should have kept her focus on his hands. Dark eyes pinned her with a raw intensity that turned breathing into a complex, daunting task. She opened her mouth, desperate for air.

His gaze dipped to her parted lips. She held her breath completely. Then he bowed his head and spun away so quickly, she could do nothing but blink over the snapping of black robes before her.

What the hell was that?

She drew a steadying breath and wondered if perhaps she had been Confunded after all. Perhaps Lavender had put something on the broom...some obscure aphrodisiac that caused men and women to suddenly become aware of each other on a more primitive level. Experimentally, she gripped the broom in both hands and raised it to her nose, carefully sniffing the handle for the telltale scent of potion ingredients.

Her nose was still firmly affixed to wood when Snape turned back around. He raised both eyebrows in an expression that clearly seemed to question whether she had, in fact, gone completely mad. Lowering the broom slowly, she cleared her throat and ignored the burning in her cheeks. She could only imagine how ridiculous she had looked, standing there snorting the broom handle.

Although she'd never wanted to get away so badly, she wasn't about to add to her embarrassment by trying to fly the broom in front of him. It had been many years since she'd ridden on a broom: she'd refused the transport ever since she and Ron had flown to the Chamber of Secrets for basilisk fangs. Everyone said it was easy to pick it up again...the phrase "just like flying a broom" was coined for a reason, after all...but it was not a theory she cared to test in present company.

"Well... it was nice seeing you again, Professor Snape," she said, hoping he'd take the hint and leave.

He watched her in silence and made no attempt to move.

She chewed her lip. "Have a pleasant journey ..." she said hopefully.

After several moments, he strolled closer, stopping only when his form filled her entire line of sight. The many buttons on his coat mesmerised her, until finally, she lifted her eyes to his. "Off you go, then," she whispered.

Amusement crossed his face, making him look more handsome than she'd ever remembered, and serving to confuse her further when that completely inappropriate realisation struck her.

"Are you attempting to dismiss me, Miss Granger?" he asked, arching one slim eyebrow while angling his chin down.

"Not at all," she lied. "I'm certain you have better things to do than be waylaid by a former student."

"Quite so," he agreed. "But I would be remiss to leave aforementioned former student alone. I'll ensure you're safely away before I leave."

"Oh, that's really not necessary," she assured him. "I'll be fine. You go ahead."

Leaning closer, he smiled and whispered, "Miss Granger, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were afraid of flying."

The mocking smile was almost comforting in its familiarity. Certainly it served as a far more accurate match to her other memories of him. Her reluctance to reply caused his smile to turn into a sneer, bringing about her almost automatic response to being challenged.

"I'm not afraid," she said, despising the petulance in her voice.

His face was smug, expectant. "Prove it."

"Right," she said and gritted her teeth. She stomped to the centre of the clearing and flung one leg over the broom, wishing she'd elected to wear trousers. At least her skirt was long and flowing. Combined with her robes, she shouldn't expose herself too badly. With a grimace, she kicked the ground and rose unsteadily into the air, hoping her pride wasn't about to kill her.

Many thanks to darling Karelia for fantastic beta skills!