Thirteen

The last week in February was Severus' time to review students' grades in all subjects. It was the end of term soon, and the next one would be starting after Easter holidays. He was particularly concerned regarding the new professors. They weren't used to grading, and he was checking to see if they were being too lenient. He knew terms always got progressively worse (however marginally small) as the students grew tired of studying. So if the grades drastically improved through the year, it was a sure sign the professor wasn't doing their job correctly.

He was surprised to see Wood's classes were an array of grades. There was no bell curve. Some students had an "O" on one assignment, which then dropped to a "D" before rising back up to a passing grade. Severus was going to have to have a talk with him. Minerva's portrait might want to sit in on the meeting as well.

Adrian Pucey's grades were average, the flow normal. He appeared to be doing fine; after all, it was his second year teaching. But there was always room for a meeting to make sure they were in agreement and up to date. Bone's DADA classes were not nearly as good as Pucey's, but she was doing well for a first-time teacher. It was a difficult subject, especially now with the war over. In times of peace everyone had a false sense of security, and they saw no reason to be prepared. Fools. Someone would always rise in power, and evil usually came unexpectedly. No one read history anymore, and those that did rarely understood the cycle.

Granger's grades were spot on. She'd just left his office an hour ago and had been complaining about the lot of dunderheads they'd all become. Last term she'd been gloating about their wonderful abilities...all of them had talent in the field of Potions. Ha, now she was singing a different tune. But she was confused and thought it was her fault. Gryffindors were always so valiant, it disgusted him. She'd started the first term slower than he normally had, but then she'd picked up exceptionally fast and had now packed too much into her schedule. Because of their drop in activeness, she was going to finish far behind her goal. This wouldn't look good for her in the board review or for the students. She should readjust her schedule for the last term and finish where he normally stopped. But there would be no listening from her; she was as stubborn as he. Severus would give her until the end of the week to formulate her own plan, but then he would step in and prod her along.

Friday night, he made his way down to the dungeons and her office; educational prodding was in order. It was still comforting to walk down these dark halls. They had been his home for most of his life. He was a dark being and liked the damp smell of earth; the dim lighting was like a secure blanket, enveloping him in comfort and protecting his emotions. It was his haven.

Reaching the familiar door, he knocked and heard her soft voice call him in. Her back was to him as she was leaning over a cauldron. Her hair was tossed into a lazy ponytail, looking smart on her with the curls cascading down her back. The room was excessively hot and steamy; her robes were draped over the back of her chair at her desk. The sleeves of her white button-up were rolled, and her grey vest revealed a dark patch of sweat between her shoulder blades.

"Evening," she said, still looking into her cauldron.

He approached from behind, curious to see what she was making. The room reeked of juniper berries and raw fish. The counter she was working on was covered with scattered ingredients. Usually she was more organized. Some of the ingredients were quite volatile too. He waited until she was done dumping in the juiced hemlock roots, and she turned around. It was dangerous to interrupt someone working with fickle ingredients.

"What can I help you with, sir?" she said. He could sense she was nervous by her hands. They were her tell. Unknowingly, she would dig imaginary dirt out from underneath them.

"I've been reviewing your work ethic. These students are falling behind according to your standards. You've raised the bar far too high." He said it as politely as possible.

She turned back to her countertop and started crushing some wartcap into powder.

"I think they'll pull through," she said tartly. Obviously, he hadn't been polite enough. She continued, "They were ahead during first term, and it's normal to have a bout of doldrums. In the third term, things will pick up, I'm sure of it. Everyone will be excited for school to get out, and they'll start studying again. I remember being in school, and that was how it was for me every..."

"Not a single other person in this school remotely feels that same pull toward education as you do. Especially not at their age." The heat was getting to him; he always lost his temper in the heat...another reason he craved the cool of the dungeons. His hair was sticking to the back of his neck. "You are too dedicated to learning. These idiots are swollen in the head; they don't give a tinker's damn about their educational futures."

Granger tipped her cutting board into the cauldron angrily. A whoosh of white smoke billowed around her petite frame. Now she was hastily popping the Doxy eggs with the side of her knife. Those were dicey; she should be more careful.

"I thought I explained to you at the beginning of the year," she said as she put the popped eggs in the mix and stirred, "I know how to run a classroom. My students are bright; they just lack the proper motivation. Next term I have so much planned, it's bound to be well received. Besides, it will be quick paced, and it's sure to encourage them to keep up and not loll behind."

"But if they don't finish according to your schedule, it will reflect poorly on not only them but yourself." He was trying to help the woman! Honestly. She'd mucked up...all right, he'd mucked up her record already this year, and she didn't need more against her.

"It will appear in your permanent record," he continued, "and it may come against you in a review. I have access to it as well as all the members on the board. It's not going to look good for you. All I'm advising is that you take out a few chapters and assignments. Then if they finish ahead of schedule, it looks much better. Next year you can add more assignments." He hoped she didn't catch his reference to keeping her for next year. It wouldn't do if she thought him soft.

She was looking flustered as she chopped the Ashwinder eggs. Those were deadly. If she wasn't careful, she'd kill the both of them. The potion was a deep blue color; right now it looked like Scintillation Solution. But she should be grinding the eggs not chopping them.

"All of a sudden you're on my side? I don't understand you, Severus. You..."

At that moment she tried to put in the Ashwinder eggs. But he'd seen the mistake and grabbed them from her.

"Granger," he hissed. "You almost killed us. These should be ground, not chopped." With a wave of his wand, he emptied the cauldron and put out its fire. Immediately, the heat in the room began to drop.

She leaned over the empty cauldron in disbelief. "I can't . . . you . . . Completely uncalled for! If you hadn't been in here harassing me, I wouldn't have messed up. It's too risky to focus on two things at once. I've told you I don't agree with your advice. You are always breathing down my neck!" She was still facing the cauldron as she yelled at him.

Two things happened at once. First, he registered her activating the curse with her ranting. And second, he couldn't stop his feet from dragging him over to her. His body pressed up against her back, pinning her to the counter. His stomach rolled with excitement. She struggled, pushing against him, forcing her way out, but both his arms rested against the counter on either side of her. She was the perfect height for him. Her beautiful neck, still shiny with sweat, drew his nose in like a bee to a flower. She froze suddenly, possibly understanding what she'd said. He leaned his forehead against her bushy mane. Granger's scent was intoxicating, mixed with her perspiration.

His long nose rubbed against her skin as he was forced to breath in and out raggedly. Something he'd longed to do, and now he was too angry with her to enjoy it. She was so stubborn; he'd been around students far longer than she, and he knew a thing or two. Why was she so wary of his advice?

"What do I have to do to get you off of me?" she said through her teeth.

"Perhaps you will have to agree with me. I believe you said you didn't like my advice, and you would continue to do things your own way," he said into her neck.

She huffed and futilely tried to push him away. He couldn't budge. The room was cooling rapidly. She shivered, and it went straight to his groin. Not now, dammit. This was not the time or place for such thoughts. But the longer he stood against her body, the more he wanted to run his hands down it. He moved them to rest on her shoulders, and another chill ran down her body at his contact. Oh, how he'd longed to give her shivers. Not that he was going to admit it. It was purely a physical attraction. His body wanted her and nothing more.

Granger turned her head slightly; he found he could maneuver around her as long as his nose stayed at her neck. He moved behind her ear and found the spot where she had dabbed her glorious perfume. Without thinking, he ran his hands down her arms and back up again. With a moan, she pressed against his body, but in an entirely different way than before. Her head rolled back and rested on his shoulder.

It was too much. His lips brushed her neck, and he tasted her saltiness. Hands with minds of their own wrapped around her body, caressing her. He moved to the base of her neck, flinging her ponytail out of the way. A few strands of hair buzzed around him as his breathing increased.

Granger's hands were wandering behind her back. She grazed his erection, and he moaned. She spun around, her head held high as he kissed her under the chin and slid his tongue down to her collarbone. Granger's hands were in his hair as she responded to his touch. He knew he shouldn't be doing this. It wasn't right, but he wanted it. Severus couldn't stop himself. It was relieving to actually be doing this to her, better than what he'd imagined. He was working on her shirt. Damn these infernal buttons on the wrong side of the garment.

She unfastened his belt and was working on his zipper. When his trousers dropped to his ankles, the cold hit his legs, waking him up a bit. He realized he had no idea what to do next. Either instinct would hopefully kick in, or she would have to take the lead. She was more experienced in this field than he.

"Granger, I've never . . . " He was reluctant to tell her.

"Severus," she said softly. Her hands were on the waistband of his boxers, but stopped. "I want this. But more importantly, I want you to want me. Last time you said Lily's name. I don't want this to be a fulfillment of your needs while you're thinking of Lily."

"What do you mean?" he asked, his hands pausing on her zipper.

She shifted her head to the side, his nose sliding over to her ear.

"When we were in Finland. On the last morning, I couldn't help it. You were still asleep. And I . . . well, I could tell you were hard. And I...we, both got off."

Lily. He remembered. He'd been dreaming of Lily and had had a wet dream. Which wasn't uncommon for him. She always haunted him at night. Granger was patiently waiting for an answer of some kind, but what could he say? To him, Lily and Granger were melding into one. He wanted this physically, but he wanted it to be with Lily. He'd always wanted it to be Lily. Would he close his eyes and imagine his beautiful redhead?

"Severus?"

"I can't do this," he said, dropping his hand from her zipper.

"I see." She sounded like she would cry any second.

He tried to pull his trousers up without bending over, but his nose threatened to take her with him. "Would you just take my advice already so I can get unstuck?" he practically snarled at her, regretting it instantly.

She stiffened against him. Everything had gone from erotic to awkward in a matter of minutes. Tears slid down her throat and onto his face. Shit.

"She's dead," he tried to make her understand. "I can't get over her; it's impossible. Lily will always be perfect because she is dead. You're not her. My feelings for you are solely physical. My body's reacting to your body. Nothing more."

"Is that what you were doing with me a minute ago?" Her temper was flaring now. "You just got caught up in the passion, imagining it was her instead of me?"

He didn't answer. He didn't know what he'd been doing. Severus hadn't been himself at that moment; it was as if he'd lost control over his body. It had taken over.

With a bite of bitterness, Granger ground out her final statement, "I'll do anything you say. I'll fix my classes like you requested."

His nose lost its pull, and she hid her face while buttoning her blouse and vest.

He awkwardly pulled up his trousers and left without looking at her.

Hermione stood there, crying heavily after Severus left. The room was chilly now, and she had no idea what to do with herself. She'd offered herself to him, and he'd walked away to Lily. She knew he would save himself for that dead woman until his own death. But did he have some sort of feelings for her? He'd started the kissing; why couldn't he make up his mind? There was something more there than just physical attraction, like he'd stated. There just had to be. And she'd thought they had reached a point in their relationship that proved everything was obtainable. Yet, here she was alone, and probably for the rest of her life, because she, too, had given her heart to someone unwilling to reciprocate.

The next day, she stayed in her room instead of supporting Gryffindor against Hufflepuff at the match. No one came looking for her, not even Susan. Oddly enough, Winky brought her food without being summoned.

Her feelings regarding house-elf had changed drastically. It had been just over a year ago when she'd been fired for her union ideas. Winky had been caustic and abrupt in her service at the beginning of the school year. But as time had gone by, Hermione realized how much she admired the elf's work ethic. All the elves were dedicated to their jobs and their masters. It was nice to see such dedication and joy in an occupation.

Hermione admitted they were good at it too. While she had worked for the Ministry, she'd done extensive research on their magical abilities and properties. Amazingly their history went far beyond that of Wizarding history. They had willingly gone into enslavement and had still retained a set of rules outside their bonding to their masters. She couldn't fathom their desire to be ruled by others. But she realized as Winky gave her a cup of tea, that she didn't care anymore.

"You've changed, Winky," she remarked.

"Thank you, miss," the elf replied.

"Why?"

Winky didn't respond for a moment, straightening the books on the end table. "Winky is responsible for miss' troubles. I is setting the curse on you, and I is very sorry." The elf burst into tears and repeatedly bonked her head on the arm of the couch.

"Stop!" Hermione threw her teacup as she lunged to stop the elf from hurting herself. After several attempts, she finally succeeded.

"Will you tell me?" Hermione asked.

"You was making Winky angry when you was going on about your silly union. And then when you came to Hogwarts, I was not wanting you to ruin things for us house-elves. When you was a student, you was causing trouble for our kind. But now Winky knows you was only trying to help. I has been watching you, miss. And you is not being dealt with fairly. Winky is sorry."

"But can't you just do the counter-charm or something?" Hermione was a little put out.

"No. I cannot undo it. You must break the curse. I am bound by our code to keep from telling you the cure."

"Is there anything you can tell me?" Hermione asked.

"Winky cannot. I has been bound to be saying nothing further."

"By the headmaster? Does he know information?"

"I is ordered not to say."

"I thought so. Well, that explains a lot." Hermione was seeing where all of this was going. "Well, thank you for your honesty, Winky. And I do not hold anything against you. I just wish you hadn't been compelled to do this to me."

"Miss is not angry? Not even a little bit?"

"No. It seems odd. I should be furious with you. But I'm not. I guess I've been advocating the welfare of house-elves so long that it would just be wrong to hold anything against you. It's not in my nature." Hermione smiled a little.

"Thank you, miss." And with a snap of her fingers, Winky was gone.

After admitting her feelings to Severus and then finding out he'd known all along about her curse, she didn't dare go to Severus' office for teatime on Sunday. Her Gryffindor courage had finally faltered. The weather was fair for the end of February, so she went for a walk around the lake.

It was an awkward week. Meal times were quiet. She mostly sat with Neville. Her friend knew something wasn't right but didn't press her for information. Well, not until later in the week.

On the first Saturday in March, she was strolling through the greenhouses, collecting ingredients with Neville. It was snowing heavily outside. She'd been so foolish. All of her efforts should have been focused on solving this curse, but she'd put most of her effort into daydreaming about Severus. This curse was hell. She'd rummaged through her house-elf notes and found very little. The only significant piece of information had been regarding their lack of magical ability to kill. So she hoped that whatever she'd been cursed with would prevent her from either dying or killing others because of her big mouth.

Her old spunk for sleuthing was gone. When she'd been a student, she'd been full of energy while solving the yearly mysteries. And the problems had always been resolved by May or June. She was hoping it would happen like that again but without much effort on her part. But she knew it wouldn't. Hermione was lost in thought while pruning a basil plant.

"Tell me about it, Hermione," Neville said, startling her.

Deciding she had no one else to talk to, she explained her curse was only active while Severus was around her. And he knew how to make her say phrases that would cause trouble. Her phrases were exaggerated expressions mostly, but sometimes they weren't. Hermione knew she should have been more careful when talking, but the words just flowed so smoothly out of her mouth, she usually didn't know what she'd done until she had seen the shark-like smile on Severus' face.

"Sounds like you already know it's him who's behind it," said Neville, as he pruned a young potted rowan tree. "So my question is: why are you so attached to him?"

She rolled her eyes. Was she that obvious in her attraction?

"Listen," Neville continued. "He's been using you for a good laugh. He's twisted, you know."

Hermione gathered up the basil into a bottle. "I like him for some dumb reason. Maybe it's because I enjoy his company. I'm afraid he might only like me for a good laugh, but I have this feeling that deep down he really likes me for me. It's probably all in my head. You're right; he is twisted."

"I reckon you need to set the curse off when only he's around, aim it at him. See what happens. If you let him know you mean business, he might be more willing to dole out his information."

"I suppose you're right," she said. "Somehow he is privy to more information, and I have a feeling that Winky was more forthcoming with him than with me. He's bound to divulge it if I threaten him. But I'll only have one shot."

The next day, Hermione boldly walked into Severus' office at their scheduled teatime. He was bent over his desk shuffling through a stack of parchment. His face held a hint of surprise until he schooled his features and looked back at her behind his usual mask.

"What can I do for you, Granger?" he said, looking at his desk. It wasn't unkind.

"I'm here for tea of course. It is Sunday after all, isn't it?" she said.

"I was under the impression we'd reached an impassible point in our relationship." He was uncomfortable, and she knew it.

"To what are you referring? It was just the curse, wasn't it?" she asked innocently. Truth be told, Hermione was still hurt by his rejection. But she wanted to get to the bottom of this curse business; it was imperative.

"Er, I suppose. Regardless, I apologize for my ungentlemanly conduct."

"No need to apologize. You are entitled to your own feelings."

He looked confused but didn't respond.

"So are we going to have tea?" she asked.

He raised an eyebrow, then called Winky. Within two minutes she'd returned with a tray. They fell into a polite conversation, and Minerva pulled the weight through the awkward moments. It was as if they'd both taken a giant step backwards and returned to their original teatime meetings full of uneasy conversations and overly polite manners. The tea was finished, and Severus looked restless. She needed to activate the curse, but he hadn't pushed her along at all. Hermione was going to have to do this herself.

"So . . . wicked weather, this." She pointed to the window. "I hope it doesn't affect your wound any."

"Hmm?" he said, rubbing his neck absentmindedly. "I find the wetter weather does tend to aggravate it a bit."

"Really? Well the puncture marks look angry. I hope you're neck's not killing you because..."

"No, Granger! Don't..." Severus hissed. His eyes frantic, both hands flew to his neck.

For one wild moment, Hermione thought she'd actually taken it too far and killed him as he slid out of his chair. But he was lying on his back, spitting curse words. In an instant, she was beside him with a salve at the ready. She had to pry away his hands and rub it into his neck for several minutes. Eventually he sat up. It was nerve-wracking sitting so close together under his desk.

"I'm sorry," she said. It had been hard saying it, knowing what would happen. "I shouldn't have done that."

"I doubt you knew what you were saying. It's amazing I'm not dead."

"Actually, I did it on purpose. I've been up all night thinking it over." He glared at her then. "The curse has specific terms. Would you like to tell me about them, or shall I continue?" He stared at her with venom. "Right," she said. "I'll just continue on, then. When I use a hyperbole or idiom in my speech with you present, they actually happen. But you've known that. Wand magic is useless, and the curse has to play out, but you already knew that as well. And that is why you were amazed that you're alive. I, on the other hand, didn't know most of this for certain until last night, and the death question wasn't for certain until a few minutes ago. But I suspected you would live, you would just be in a great deal of pain. Was I right?"

He gave her a calculating look. Abruptly, he stood up and stalked to the window. She didn't rise. Her emotions were getting too worked up.

"You tried to kill me?" he asked, spinning around to look at her. "Just to see what would happen?"

"I've asked you before for information. You told me you would look into it. And on good faith, I believed you. Like a fool, I believed and trusted you, Severus Snape. I'm just as bad as Voldemort. No one should trust you. You inflict hurt and pain on them. You did it to Harry's mum, you did it to Dumbledore, you did it to Voldemort, and you did it to me. Why did I think I was more worthy than them all, that you would not betray me and leave me feeling like a fool? And I am one...I'm a stupid fool for trusting you."

She was sobbing under his desk. He turned his back on her, as if unable to watch her pitiful episode.

When she calmed down, she said, "You've lied to me, Severus. You've been doing it to me all along. Everything always points back to you except your wandwork. Winky did the deed. She confessed it to me. But regardless of whose hand did it, you've continually encouraged it. Leading me on in this farce of a friendship, thinking you liked me for me...that I meant something to you. Turns out I'm nothing but cheap entertainment. Bastard. Why don't you just confess it? Confess dammit!" In two long strides he was at the desk, roughly dragging her to her feet. She refused to look at him, his face too close for comfort.

"I couldn't tell you." His voice was raw. "I couldn't! I was having too much fun. And yes, at your expense. I wanted to play it out a bit before it was resolved. My life's been nothing but misery, and I thought I deserved some enjoyment at the expense of others. So I let it happen. And I'll admit that I even encouraged situations to blossom into slip-ups. I withheld information so I could drag out my fun. But I didn't tell you because . . . " He was at a loss of words to express himself.

"Because," she said, "you aren't use to sharing things with others. You didn't think I would want to have fun with you? I wouldn't want to join in on your secret? Think of the mischief we could have had. But no, you don't know how to share. You're afraid of opening yourself up to others, afraid I'd take the real you, the one deep inside, and lead you by the nose. I'd force you to step back and...oh shite!"

She couldn't stop her pointer finger on her left hand coming up and inserting into his right nostril. The finger was curled into a hook, and it attached itself to the inside of his nose better than a permanent sticking charm. She tugged, and his face came with it...along with a growl of pain.

"Oh, Severus," she whispered, "I'm so sorry." Warm air rushed past her finger and condensation began to build up.

"Well, undo it then," he said impatiently.

"But I don't know how. I think it has to be you this time. I accused you of not trusting me, and then we got stuck together."

He grumbled, but conceded that she was right. "All right, I trust you," he said, rolling his eyes. Nothing happened.

"You have to actually mean it," she spit out. "It's a good thing you have such a large nose, or this might get uncomfortable." He was really ticking her off. They were going to be stuck together forever because he didn't know how to trust. She jerked her hand to piss him off. It worked.

"Now you've done it," he said. "What are we supposed to do?"

"At least it's the beginning of the Easter hols. I hope two weeks is long enough for me to earn your trust." She said it sarcastically.

They glared at each other for some time before Minerva spoke up.

"You know, Severus, this is what I've been telling you the entire time. If you'd told Hermione ages ago, you two would both be much happier now."

A/N: I'm sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter out. The next few chapters will be much faster. Thanks goes out to Southern_Witch_69 for the great beta work!