Chapter 10

Chapter 10

At dinner, Severus noted that Dumbledore seemed to be paying a lot of attention to him and Hermione. He was not pleased by this development. He had suspected, since that little mini-interrogation earlier in the day, that his burgeoning friendship – or whatever it was – with Hermione might come under greater scrutiny from Dumbledore. He had hoped against hope that he was wrong, but it seemed he wasn't that fortunate.

Still, there was nothing truly wrong about what he and Hermione were doing. They were simply talking to each other and working together. She wasn't really his trainee and anyway, they were hardly more than friendly, professional acquaintances.

He ignored the little whisper in his head that said, yeah, except for the way all your blood rushes to your groin whenever you so much as think about her. He didn't have thoughts that crude, so he must not have heard himself correctly.

Hermione interrupted his brooding, asking, "You're very quiet, Severus. Are you more worried about Minerva than you've let on?"

"No," he said simply.

She didn't let it drop. "Well, then, why so quiet?" Apparently she was already developing the confidence they had so recently discussed.

Perhaps he shouldn't have been so forthcoming about that. He demurred, "I don't have anything to say, particularly."

"Right," she said, with a touch of sarcasm.

"Contrary to what you seem to think, Miss Granger, I don't generally speak just to hear the sound of my own voice," he said irritably.

Oh, she didn't like that, he saw. Sure enough, her tone was frosty when she replied, "Well, Professor Snape, perhaps you should."

He honestly had no idea what that meant, so he asked her. "What does that mean?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but then her demeanor changed, taking on a blank, shuttered look that he didn't like at all. She said calmly, "Never mind. If you're so determined to take out your bad mood on me, I think I'll go sit somewhere else." And with that, she pointed her wand at her place setting, then pointed to an empty spot near Dumbledore and – without another word – followed her dinner to her new seat.

He watched her go, shocked that she had the audacity to just walk away like that – and the dramatic wand-waving was clearly a dig at him, as well. After a moment, he snorted to himself and resumed eating his now-solitary dinner.

Confidence, indeed.

Hermione quickly regretted her melodramatics. She found she had jumped from the frying pan of Severus's bad mood into the fire of Dumbledore's avid curiosity.

She had barely asked, "May I join you, sir?" and taken her new seat, when Dumbledore dove in – although he started so benignly that it took her a few moments to realize he was interrogating her, very subtly.

"Severus in a bad mood this evening?" he asked lightly.

"When is he not?" she retorted grumpily, then realized he didn't deserve her bad mood any more than she deserved Severus's. "Sorry," she mumbled.

He just laughed and patted her hand. "It's all right. Severus has been known to have that effect on all of us at one time or another. You mustn't hold it against him. He needs all the friends he can get."

She looked at him, thinking it odd that he would say something even slightly negative about a professor to a mere apprentice. "Erm, okay," she said cautiously.

"He must be in a worse mood than usual tonight – that looked like quite a little spat you two had. Very impressive exit, my dear. Did you say the incantation aloud, or just walk away?"

Spat? That made them sound like ... lovers. Where would he have gotten that idea? She replied quietly, "I used a non-verbal spell."

He nodded approvingly. "Combined with the dramatic wand usage, that's the best choice. The perfect mix of drama and power."

She smiled modestly and shrugged. "It seemed like the right way to go. He dislikes 'foolish wand-waving,' as he likes to tell his students."

"Oh, it was excellent, my dear, it most definitely was." He paused to eat a bite or two of his chicken. After a moment, he asked nonchalantly, "I assume you're aware that he's staring daggers at us both?"

"I wouldn't know, sir. I'm ignoring him." She forced herself not to feel guilty about the half-truth. She really was ignoring him, but she was also very well aware of his eyes on her, as always.

"Well, I'm sure you two will work it out," he said reassuringly. "Just don't expect him to explicitly apologize. He's not very good at those, you know."

"Oh, but –" she stopped herself before admitting that Severus had already apologized to her once. Well, sort of ... 'I should apologize for dinner last night' was close enough. She abruptly changed the subject. "I understand you checked on Minerva. How is she?"

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, but he didn't press her to finish her thought. "Yes, I saw her earlier, with Severus, and I checked on her just a short while ago, on my way here. She's doing much better. The potion Severus gave her is working wonders already."

"Oh, that's a relief," she said, smiling genuinely. As she had said to Severus earlier, she couldn't imagine a Hogwarts without Minerva – it didn't bear thinking about.

"I'm sure she'll be back at work with you in a couple of days." He pushed aside what was left of his dinner and stood. "Well, dear, I must go. If you'll excuse me?"

He left abruptly, giving her no opportunity to say so much as good-bye.

Suddenly not very hungry, although she had eaten very little, she decided she might as well leave, too. As she headed for the door, Severus appeared at her side, walking with her toward her room.

"I didn't mean to make you mad," he said without preamble.

She wasn't ready to forgive him yet. "Yes, you did."

He didn't answer right away, and eventually she glanced at him. Returning her look with an inscrutable one of his own, he finally said, "You're right. I did."

"Why?" she asked.

"I don't know," he replied. She gave him a look. He amended, "I was in a bad mood and I took it out on you."

"You weren't in a bad mood before dinner," she pointed out. "Your mood turned in the blink of an eye, and suddenly you were picking a fight with me. What changed?"

He flushed. Instead of answering, he asked, "What did you and Dumbledore talk about?"

"At dinner?" she asked, surprised by the question. He nodded, and she asked pertly, "Why do you want to know?"

"It's relevant," he said simply.

She looked at him for a long moment, trying to figure out how her subsequent conversation with Dumbledore could be related to Severus's prior bad mood. It didn't make sense to her, so she finally relented, interested to see how he thought they were connected. "Okay, fine," she said tersely. "He saw our – disagreement – and he said I shouldn't hold it against you. He thought I made the perfect exit." She heard a hint of pride in her own voice.

Severus ignored that and remained focused on the content of Dumbledore's conversation. "Did you ... get the feeling he was fishing for information about ... you and me?"

She frowned thoughtfully. "You and me? Yes, why? Did he ask you about it, too? No, of course not, you didn't talk to him tonight."

"He did," Severus corrected her in a gentle tone. "Earlier today, when we were leaving Minerva's quarters."

"Oh," she said, then again, more emphatically, "Oh! I'm sorry, Severus. I'll stay away from now on."

She had expected him to be pleased, but his expression darkened. "Why would you do that? We're not doing anything inappropriate."

"Oh," she said, confused now. "I thought – I didn't mean to put you in an awkward position, you know. But if you aren't trying to make me stay away from you, then why ...?" She trailed off, not asking all the whys that were ringing in her head. Why did you pick a fight with me? Why are we talking about this? Why aren't we doing anything inappropriate?

"I'm just not used to having anyone scrutinize my behavior with my colleagues."

"Or your students," she supplied.

"You're not my student," he said flatly. "You're my colleague. A junior colleague, but a colleague nonetheless."

It seemed important to him, for some reason, so she nodded agreement. "Okay, I suppose I can see where you wouldn't be thrilled about Dumbledore scrutinizing us. So what do you want me to do?"

His eyes glittered suddenly, then he made them blank again. "I want you to do what you've been doing. Except for tonight. I don't want you to do that again."

"You deserved it," she pointed out.

"Perhaps I did," he admitted. "But you asked me what I want you to do, so I'm telling you that I don't want you to do that again. Not even if I deserve it."

Suddenly, she was amused. "You don't want much, do you?" she teased.

His lips twitched; he said cryptically, "If you only knew. Good night, Hermione." And, just as Dumbledore had done a short time ago, he left without giving her a chance to respond, leaving her completely bewildered about what he might have meant.

After Hermione went inside, Dumbledore reversed the Disillusionment Charm that had made him invisible to them and headed slowly back toward his own quarters.

So, Severus wanted Hermione, did he? At least, that was the most reasonable interpretation of his last remark. Especially combined with his version of an apology and the frequency with which he sought the girl out. And, of course, the informality between them as they discussed his own curiosity about them was illuminating.

In light of Severus's now-obvious feelings for Hermione, Dumbledore understood why the man had been so tersely emphatic that he was not tutoring Hermione. He also realized he would have to be far more subtle in his information-gathering. He had expected that each of them would suspect he was more interested than he tried to let on, but he hadn't anticipated that they would compare notes. As he had commented to Minerva earlier that day, he was accustomed to Severus keeping his own counsel unless forced to do otherwise.

A simple question like the one Hermione had posed could certainly not be viewed as force. Severus was as good as anyone Dumbledore knew at freezing people out with a look or a word, but he had seemed to be going out of his way to make Hermione feel comfortable. He had actually explained himself to her, something Dumbledore could rarely remember Severus doing for anyone.

Wanting Hermione must be torture for Severus, since he obviously thought he couldn't have her. Albus wondered briefly when Severus's feelings toward Hermione had changed. Not very long ago, he suspected; as recently as last spring, the younger wizard had been adamantly opposed to having her remain at Hogwarts, and he had given every indication of resenting and disliking her just as much as he did Harry Potter and all his friends.

Of course, it was also possible that Severus's opposition to her apprenticeship had been triggered by an already-burgeoning desire for her, which at that time would have been strictly off-limits. As torturous as unrequited passion could be, unrequited forbidden passion would have to be much, much worse.

Dumbledore thought about it some more, looking at it from all angles, trying to ensure that he hadn't missed some other possibility. He finally concluded that no other explanation made sense – Severus wanted Hermione, and that was all there was to it.

The problem was, knowing that Severus wanted Hermione was only half the issue. Did Hermione want Severus, too? The evidence there was murkier, although Dumbledore was fairly certain that she would be able to come up with adequate reasons to avoid him if she wanted to.

So, she at least must like Severus a little bit. He considered how he might find out just how much ...

Finally, he decided he would have to keep watching and look for opportunities to gain information. Maybe Minerva would have some ideas – Dumbledore suspected that she had more information about the pair than she had shared to date. What had she said? Their demeanor doesn't suggest business...

He would ask her to expound on that further when he stopped in to check on her tomorrow morning.