7: Revelation

Disclaimer: A.K. makes no money off J.K.'s characters.

Chapter 7: Revelation

Snape woke up disgustingly early Saturday morning. He had no one to blame but himself for having assigned a 6 a.m. detention, so naturally, he decided it was Miss Granger's fault. It seemed a good idea at the time...he could have the house-elves bring him breakfast, then sit back to comfortably interrogate her while she was out-of-sorts from having to read that essay on an empty stomach. He also reflected it was a prudent preventative measure, in case the little irritant got sick reading to her nasty old professor instead of showing off in front of whichever young buck she was trying to impress in class. Speaking of sick...

It might, indeed, be amusing to abscond with the Hangover Relief potion. (He was still a bit sore that his colleagues, theoretically friends, had tried to drag him into a potentially embarrassing conversation last night.) It would yield a lovely sense of superiority, especially considering he could do without any remedies. Three, or maybe five, firewhiskys on a more or less empty stomach about four hours ago couldn't faze him. That light, fuzzy sensation behind his eyes was just lack of sleep and minor annoyance, and the general crummy feeling was nothing a shower couldn't fix. At least, that's what he insisted internally while managing to blearily spill half a bottle of cologne on himself trying to shave, a mistake even a thorough shower couldn't quite wash off.

He hastily threw on his full professorial get-up, not wanting to look as if waking up at the crack of sparrow's fart had any adverse impact on his well-polished image. It didn't matter at the moment, since he couldn't let himself be seen emptying the warded cabinet in the infirmary reserved for remedies only teachers had access to, or be caught in transit. But he would be ready to impress, no, intimidate, that fuzzy headed know-it-all when she came to darken the other side of his desk in about twenty more minutes. He didn't care how bright she was, she wasn't going to get the better of him, and if she hadn't figured it out before now, she'd realize it the moment she walked into his office.

Severus had only taken about five bites of the breakfast the elves had brought him when he realized he'd put on his robes inside-out and forgotten to comb his hair...

Remus Lupin yawned. He probably should have gone to bed promptly at the end of his rounds, but he was feeling peckish and didn't care to sleep for only an hour or two before having to wake up for breakfast. After swinging past the kitchens, he decided to wander out the little postern door not far from one of the sets of stairs down to the dungeons. It was generally a nice, quiet place to watch the sunrise. The Astronomy Tower provided the traditional view, but he could do without the slightly dizzy feeling he got ascending it.

Good old sun, he thought fondly as he wandered along the ground floor hallway. Seeing you will mean the end of this odd week. Hopefully everyone and everything will be back to normal again.

From the corner of his eye, Remus noticed a flutter of fabric. He turned just in time to see Severus whisking off in the direction of the dungeons, looking a little furtive. That wasn't too unusual; what was odd, however, was that he looked incredibly disheveled, and...was that cologne he smelled?

Lupin didn't have the luxury of mulling this over, as his attention was immediately diverted. Somewhere around a bend in the corridor, he could hear a 'click' and soft voices. Apparently there were other early risers in the castle. He could just make out, 'good job you know how to get into that room,' and something about, 'head boy' and 'a nice broom ride.' Oh, and some giggling.

Perhaps someone hadn't gotten to bed last night... at least, not to their own bed.

If running across Snape looking like a teenager sneaking into the house the morning after wasn't sufficiently bizarre, Lupin now found himself face to face with Harry, Ginny, and...Draco? Were all three of them really sidling out the door he'd planned to use...together?

"Good morning, Professor," Harry said. His voice was just a little too calm for someone with a distinct 'cat who got the cream' gleam in his eyes. "We were just on our way for a little sunrise flight, weren't we?"

Ginny and Draco echoed him, sounding like butter wouldn't melt in their mouths.

Since when were they so friendly? There was something suspicious going on here, if only Remus could put his finger on it. None of them appeared to be under any form of duress, however. If anything, they looked quite happy, in a sleepy, satisfied sort of way. And the air seemed to almost vibrate with the scent of teenaged exuberance. Good grief... he recalled frequent pheromone clouds as part and parcel of being that age, but they seemed to have an awfully robust stock of them built up, for three people who otherwise smelled like they'd just had a nice, refreshing bath.

"Yes... seems a good morning for it, doesn't it?" he said a little uncertainly, not really being sure what sort of morning it was since he was absolutely knackered and kept getting interrupted on his way to enjoy the sunrise.

Ginny yawned and leaned on Harry. Both Harry and Draco looked at her with concern.

"We can always wait until later if you're still tired, Ginny," Draco said solicitously.

"No, I'll be fine once I get going." As they turned, Draco stumbled a little.

"Steady, Draco," Harry said, catching his blonde companion around the shoulders. "Bit shaky on your legs this morning, aren't you?"

Draco took to the stabilizing arm as if they'd been bezzy mates since day one of first year. "Nothing a little ride won't fix, Harry," he said, which unaccountably made Ginny start to giggle. They quickly took their leave of Remus and slipped out the door.

Just before it clicked shut, he could have sworn he'd heard Draco say, "Clever of you to remember those Cleansing Charms."

That was really peculiar. And a little disturbing, if he'd only let his mind wrap around it properly.

He considered asking Severus if he knew anything about all this, but stopped short of it upon seeing Hermione Granger duck into Snape's office with a substantial roll of parchment, shutting the door behind her as quickly as if she were hiding something.

Professor Lupin had the oddest feeling that, for at least the third time this week, he was definitely missing something.

There would be a sunrise over snow tomorrow to look at. For now, he really needed sleep.

Hermione made herself as neat and presentable as if she'd had all morning to wash, dress, and eat, instead of just half an hour. She wouldn't give Professor Snape the satisfaction of seeing her yawning and bedraggled. He wouldn't see her bedraggled, anyhow. Yawning might be harder to control.

She fingered the vial in her pocket and alternated between nibbling at a sticky bun and at her lower lip as she made her way down to the dungeons. Maybe it would be better to simply take the punishment and forget her curiosity, for once. As annoying as Snape could be, she did quite respect him and admire his expertise, to say nothing of his record of what she would grudgingly term heroic accomplishments during the war. She didn't like the idea of discovering anything that would tarnish her fairly flattering image of him. Yet she couldn't quite bring herself to dump the potion out.

Maybe her parents should have named her Pandora.

She knocked a little tentatively, curiosity just overcoming trepidation. She hoped whatever his kink or fetish was, it wasn't too disturbing.

"Enter," came the familiar, slightly annoyed voice.

Hermione took a quick slug of the potion, wiped her lips, and darted in.

Snape was steadying a rack of vials on a crowded table, and barely spared her a sour glance before turning to assume a seat at his desk.

"Contraceptive potions...in bulk?" she asked incredulously, recognizing the pearlescent purple stuff from the description in her textbook.

"Madam Pomfrey's had a run on it. If you think you're getting points for identifying it, you're mad. Stop stalling and read your silly essay, since you've been so eager to talk about deviant behavior this week," he snapped at her. As if he were utterly bored and had no desire to devote any more attention to her than was necessary, he picked up a quill and began wounding a poor, defenseless essay with numerous red slashes.

Hermione began to read, darting glances at him from time to time and wondering when the potion would kick in.

My, he looked... different this morning. 'Wild' wasn't quite the word... He was as formidably dressed as ever, yet still seemed ever so slightly tousled and just begging to be...

Snape noticed her voice trail off. "Did I give you leave to stop, Miss..."

He looked up too late. Her wand was out; her eyes looked glazed. 'Incarcerous!' she exclaimed, giving the spell a slight twist. He found his wrists tied behind him, ankles bound to the legs of the chair, as she cast a Silencing Charm to prevent noise from escaping the room.

"What the hell are you doing, Miss Granger...besides PREPARING TO BE EXPELLED?" Snape roared. "Untie me this instant!"

"But sir... that's not what you want," she said, sidling up behind him and slowly drawing his wand from his sleeve. "That's not what I want. Oh, no...I can't believe this," she whispered, moving to stand between his knees and curl her fingers into his hair.

"What have you done?" he choked out. He could almost taste something sugary on her breath as she leaned in close. Then, he tasted a good bit more, but it was a little difficult to analyze with all the blood rushing to his crotch and her delectable mouth playing with his until he started playing in return. Good gods...the way she was sucking on his tongue, he could feel his eyes cross behind closed lids.

"I...I brewed a potion from the little green book," she said with a sigh once they separated, her breath coming faster as she toyed with the buttons of his collar. She unfastened them slowly, stroking his neck lightly. Tickling him.

This wasn't quite how he'd envisioned finding out just what inducement the Slytherin girls had employed to secure Miss Granger's help.

Snape let out a gasp, then a strangled squeak. Every brush of her fingers against his ticklish neck shivered like little icy lightning bolts straight to his balls and cock, causing him to squirm. "I must say... you are going to go down in history as having committed the most creative misdeed ever to warrant expulsion," he said in a quivering voice. "Perhaps if you untie me immediately, I will see that your punishment is limited to daily detention for the remainder of your school career." He didn't get a chance to threaten anything more, because her mouth was now latched onto his again, reminding him rather forcefully just how much he enjoyed sticky buns.

This was going to be a problem. Somewhere in all that snogging, his 'they are all snot-nosed little brats' glasses had fallen off. He was looking at a student, but seeing womanly curves and a face that looked excited, passionate, and in no way snot-nosed or bratty. Be careful what you wish for, Clara had said. And here he was, about to be taken advantage of by a quite nice looking, of legal age, witch.

Perhaps Trelawney could learn a thing or two from Quill.

Hermione slid her hands lightly down his legs to his ankles. Resting her head on his knee, she gazed adoringly into his eyes, sighing softly as she slowly undid the buttons at the ankle of his trousers.

"What did you take...a lust potion?" Snape asked, amazed at her expression. Not to mention absolutely floored by the sensation of her breasts pressing...no, rubbing...against his shin. Good Lord. Okay, she was more than just nice-looking, judging by those.

"No... it reveals kinks and fetishes...evidently by moving the drinker to satisfy them." She loosened the bonds enough to slide off his boots and socks, making him jump as her fingers reached up the leg of his trousers. She cradled one of his long-toed, slender feet in her lap, gazing at it in awe. "You have beautiful feet, sir," she cooed, crouching to feather soft kisses over his instep and toes as her tiny fingers danced delightfully along his arch to the ball of his foot. Within seconds, the bonds were superfluous. Snape was steel hard and absolutely helpless with both arousal and laughter.

"Impossible," he managed to gasp, before dissolving in giggles again. "I only...know of one potion...hee hee...that works in that manner...stop!...it's ineffective unless the parties involved have...ah, ha, ha, eee!...a preexisting affinity...oh!...for each other." Gods, she was good at this! He knew the potion lasted all of five minutes...he'd brewed it upon request in the past. He also knew, from disappointing experience, it only worked if the persons involved at least found each other attractive. How much of him would she decide to tickle in five minutes? Could he keep from having a very embarrassing reaction if she did?

"But I... that is," she faltered as she climbed into his lap and realized just what, exactly, she was sitting on, "you're so intelligent, that's incredibly attractive, and I respect you a great deal, and oh, sod it, I fancy blokes with big noses in the worst way." She slipped her hands under his shirt and stroked his sides lightly, an act rewarded by hearing his breath escape him in a trembling, silent laugh as he desperately tossed his head, trying to escape her ministrations. "And buttons... mmm. Buttons are sexy."

Really?

Some of that potion must have been in her mouth when they kissed, because he suddenly found the idea of seducing this clever, wild beauty with his voice...and buttons...incredibly appealing. "Go ahead, my wanton little know-it-all... touch them. Caress them. Lick them, if you like," he whispered. "Let me see those pretty lips in action as you sample the mother-of-pearl ones on my shirt."

Hermione whimpered in submission, unable to resist the silky voice and pull of the fascinating fabric fastenings any longer. She nuzzled them, brushed them with her lips, tongued them, ran her teeth over the shank, reveling in the little bumping vibration of metal and thread against her incisors. It was enough to start her squirming frantically against him. She grabbed for her wand and managed to free him without removing her mouth from his neck, wanting to get her arms entirely around his body.

Since Snape couldn't give her an 'Exceeds Expectations' for nonverbal magic under very distracting circumstances, he reached for her instead. Where his hands landed was purely accidental. He was trying to push her away, he tried to convince himself, but got distracted wondering why all the boys in the school who were even remotely pubescent were wasting their time ogling Rosmerta.

Willpower, Severus! "You really need to stop. If you were discovered restraining a teacher and more, you could be expelled." And it would be really embarrassing, to say nothing of messy, to...

"Ahh...Hermione!"

Too late.

Severus stood up quickly, almost dumping her to the floor. "Turn around," he ordered shakily.

She obeyed, realizing what must have happened when he murmured a Cleansing Charm. If he's so embarrassed, why didn't he perform the charm silently? she wondered, her head swimming with the excitement of it.

"Leave. Now. Don't breathe a word of this." It would be almost impossible to look at her ever again, much less interact with her enough to administer any sort of punishment. He wasn't about to report this. After all, he didn't know if he could keep from revealing he'd wanted every minute of it from the moment she touched him, despite his protestations.

Not to mention that, pathetically, it was the most pleasure he'd ever had from any woman.

"You said we had to have an affinity for the potion to work. I'd like to explore that affinity. I NEED to." She picked up one of the vials of contraceptive potion from the rack and drained it.

Seduction, Gryffindor style. All the subtlety of a train wreck. "It's not my fault you're all worked up with no place to go! I didn't ask to be tied to a chair and pawed over," he growled, though it came out a bit less indignant than he would have liked.

"Well, I am...asking, that is."

"Stop being daft."

"Do you think I'm joking? I'm frustrated as hell, especially after a week of hearing and reading about nothing but sex, sex, and more sex, after an entire adolescence of not having it! I've read two complete compendiums of modern erotica, and I can't get it out of my head! Not to mention being over my head in people whose sole hobby is fornicating in every imaginable corner of this building! Even Neville's gone and done it!" she exclaimed piteously, thinking on how cheerful he'd been when she caught him wandering back from the greenhouse last night--even after she'd told him it would be necessary to deduct points.

"Don't bloody well talk to me about frustration! Not until you've been in that exact situation for over twenty years!"

Hermione didn't need a piano to fall on her to work out what that implied. "You're kidding."

"Unfortunately, no. And now, according to you... Oh hell. I can't even say it. It's too pathetic, falling behind Longbottom."

"You mean, we wouldn't have to worry about those prophylactic charms that are said to decrease sensation?" she asked, unaware she was licking her lips in a very anticipatory manner.

He hadn't thought of it that way. No, mustn't think of it that way. Severus, you've never given in to despair despite over two decades of consistent rejections. You've refrained from accepting a pity fuck, a prostitute (well, except for a bit of tickling, but that doesn't count), or favors in exchange for passing marks... You can resist an attractive, intelligent, incredibly randy witch who is of the age of consent...um, just because it would be unethical.

Right. Only if you throw her out NOW.

"Go eat breakfast, Miss Granger, and find someone who won't get sacked on account of your actions for your next experiment," he said flatly. If there was one sure way to stiff himself out of finally getting laid, appealing to her sense of honor would do it.

She sighed, picking up her parchment and preparing to leave. She couldn't help talking, though. As usual.

"It just seems such a waste... We've both admitted to finding each other attractive, I've been practicing all the exercises in the Green Book..."

All of them? Snape thought faintly, recalling what some of those exercises were.

"...especially the graduated insert ones, to prevent physical discomfort or embarrassment my first time. I even developed a few of my own, based on information from the books I ordered before the class started." She sighed again, quite heavily.

"You're serious, aren't you?" he asked, gaping at her.

"Of course," she continued without missing a beat. "I've gotten to the point where I can actually throw a banana about a foot with just my vaginal muscles," she said proudly.

"Do you know what this means?" Snape asked, his voice rumbling dangerously in its lowest registers.

"What, sir?" she asked innocently.

"Riddle knew exactly bugger-all about effective coercion," he said with a groan, and swept her into his arms and carried her through the door in the back of his office to his quarters.

Most of the professorial miscreants of Hogwarts crept into the Great Hall by lunch time. The relatively abstemious Quill and hardy souls McGonagall and Flitwick had managed to stagger in to breakfast to maintain appearances before the students. Otherwise their pact to get well and truly pissed together had left most of the crew unsuited to bipedal locomotion before 11:00 a.m.

"Anybody know if that antisocial bastard in the dungeon has any Hangover Relief potion?" Hooch whined weakly.

"Sweet Circe, Rolanda. Whatever did Severus do to you to warrant such an epithet?" Albus asked mildly.

"Nothing...that's probably why she's upset. He was so wound up in his 'uptight monastic of the castle' persona last night that he didn't even have the common courtesy to get blitzed in a nice, comradely fashion with the rest of us," Aurora groused.

"Now, now, not everyone's idea of a good time is getting blind drunk," Quill admonished gently.

"Just because you're ever so chipper this morning," Rolanda muttered. "Bloody 'We can get our arses out of bed for breakfast' Ravenclaws."

"Oh, go to Poppy for something and quit tormenting the whole table," Filius snapped irritably. Really, insulting his house was uncalled for. Bloody 'can't hold my liquor despite the unfortunate surname Hooch' Gryffindor!

"Poppy's out," she complained.

"There are children present," Albus warned. "I suggest you take your meals in the staff room or your quarters unless you can conduct yourselves with more propriety."

Minerva (part of the 'I showed up to breakfast, damn it' brigade) frowned. "Let's think on this a wee moment, friends... if Severus didn't stay out all night, and wasn't here for breakfast, where is he?"

"If he were a mate, he'd be brewing Hangover Relief potion," Hooch moaned, to no sympathy whatsoever.

Had Remus been present he would have mentioned seeing Severus that morning and no one would have thought any more of it, except to speculate on whom, exactly, the Potions master had been getting disheveled with last night. But since the weary Defense professor was currently sleeping the sleep of the slightly bewildered, he was in no position to provide alibis, truthful or otherwise.

"Don't you remember, Minerva? He had a detention to supervise this morning," Flitwick said with a yawn.

Minerva looked from Albus to Filius, still feeling uneasy. "Oh, aye. With Miss..." Her face froze. "What did Mr. Chance say about that spell getting people what they needed?"

Quill's report on last night's activities and Dumbledore's own extensive time spent with the Sorting Spell caused something to click in his mind. His normally cheery visage suddenly went rather wan. "Minerva... a word with you in private, if you don't mind?"

"All I know is, for years we've been saying that wizard needs to get..."

Albus and Minerva didn't wait to hear the end of Sprout's sentence. They shoved back from the table as one in a flurry of fluttering robes and chair legs screeching on the paving stones, and headed off to the dungeons.

Quill's face collapsed into a series of disbelieving wrinkles. "Oh, shite, Severus lad...you didn't...crap, you did..." With a spryness that indicated she was, indeed, keeping in shape, Clara hustled off after Albus and Minerva.

Down amidst the student tables, Harry frowned at the exchange between professors, which he had been unable to hear, and their behavior, which he couldn't interpret.

"What do you think all that was about?" he asked Ginny...who sat snuggled against Harry even while trying to soothe Draco's slightly jealous glances by mouthing endearments across the room at him.

Before she could voice her own puzzlement, Ron walked up with Luna and interrupted. "Where've you two been? And has anyone seen Hermione yet today?"

They drifted off to sleep...for just a minute or two, really. That's what it felt like. Except when Hermione's eyes drifted open, she found herself staring at a clock that read 'almost lunch time.'

"Severus, wake up," she urged him. He was like dead weight pushing her into the mattress. If he nuzzled any deeper between her breasts he'd start burrowing in.

"Mmmm," he hummed happily, nibbling his way up her neck for another long kiss.

It took a while for the liquefaction of Hermione's brain to subside once he came up for air. "It's lunchtime," she said hazily, needing a moment to recall why this was important.

He recognized that he was being asked something relating to the mouth, and promptly concluded it must pertain to kissing this angelic creature with the soft, fluffy halo once more. So he did, settling himself onto his back as he did so and pulling her atop him in a viselike embrace.

Being squished like a human teddy bear lent remarkable clarity to Hermione's thought processes. They had to get dressed and present a more teacher-student appropriate appearance...and quickly. However, getting Severus' attention for anything but another snog was proving futile. She tried a different tack. "The Headmaster is going to kill you!"

"Can't," he reasoned cheerfully. "I'm already dead. This is heaven, isn't it?"

Oh, God, she thought frantically. This must have been what happened to Merlin. If a wizard waits too long for his first shag, it erases his entire personality.

"Name the uses of dragon's blood," she snapped.

This seemed to cause something to click. He began rattling off the answer, and by number five, he noticed the clock. "Shite! I'm going to become the next teaching ghost of Hogwarts."

"Not if we get dressed, and quickly," Hermione said, grabbing her jumper and tossing him a shirt. Severus covered it with his teaching robes, since almost half the bottom buttons were popped off, and hoped he wasn't as flushed and bright eyed as she was. It would be a dead giveaway.

Hermione tried to get back into her jeans, hoping the sleepy, pleasantly dazed expression would wear off his face before anyone else could see him. They'd either know what had happened straight off or send him to Poppy to be tested for mind-altering substances.

"Wait a moment, Minerva, Albus," Clara cautioned. "Let's not burst in there like Aurors executing a raid."

"We can wait for you to catch your breath..." Minerva began, tight-lipped.

Quill narrowed her eyes at Dumbledore. 'Altais,' she mouthed at him.

Albus stared at Clara several long, significant moments. Finally, he addressed Minerva. "That is not the point. Whatever has or hasn't happened in there, I don't want a scene. We aren't saving a helpless child from a practiced lecher, nor dealing with the aftermath of a scheming young tart pursuing a lonely and susceptible man. They're both intelligent adults who've spent the better part of their lives involved in a very ugly struggle, with little opportunity to explore the more pleasant side of life. Any disciplinary action that needs to be taken will be discreet and sensible."

"I talked to Severus on the way home last night. He's been under a terribly strain lately," Clara asserted gravely. "And Miss Granger is such a very diligent student. It's entirely possible they may have had a slight emotional outburst. Pressure, you know. Not the sort of thing that would happen under normal circumstances."

Minerva was plainly trying not to let the arguments move her, though Quill's words kept bringing to mind pictures of Hermione as a skinny, fuzzy little first year bent under the weight of an overloaded book bag...reminiscent of Severus thirty years before, who had looked all the more pitiful for being underfed. "All right, we'll do it your way," she said resignedly, looking at the Headmaster.

"I daresay we will," he retorted. "After all, I haven't retired yet."

Hermione opened the door to find herself face to face with Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. She scarcely noticed Professor Quill walking by behind them...reading, as usual.

"How fortunate we've found you here, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said as he took in her appearance. Oh, dear... the look in her eyes was fairly unmistakable, though a look alone did not a conviction make. "Professor McGonagall would like to speak with you."

Dumbledore brushed past her into the office, and there was nothing she could do about it. She only hoped Severus...must try to think Professor Snape, mustn't slip up if, no, when Professor McGonagall starts asking questions...had heard the Headmaster's voice and was braced for his arrival.

Snape had heard and scrambled to present the cool, implacable front afforded by Occlumency. That is, until he saw the expression on Dumbledore's face, an expression he'd only seen one other time.

He was about to do as he had done on that occasion...namely, sink to his knees and beg leniency, though not for himself, this time...when Albus stopped him with a word.

"Have a seat, Severus."

There was no hiding anything at this point. He couldn't have used Occlumency if he'd tried, though one look at Hermione and he could have managed a truly spectacular Patronus. And somehow, in his inimitable fashion, Dumbledore saw it all.

"Severus, you've never sought proper assistance in dealing with the terrible strain of the past few years. I know it wasn't really an option before, but now I am going to have to insist that you immediately take steps to deal with your mental and emotional health. It seems clear to me that you have just experienced an inappropriate emotional outburst, and will report to infirmary promptly. You should be able to resume your duties Monday, but I must warn you: any repeat of today's outburst before Poppy certifies you completely fit again, and I will be obliged to take much stronger action. Disciplinary action."

There was no way he didn't know. The old man knew everything. He probably knew about the ruler. And yet he was sending him to the Poppy instead of presenting him with the business end of his wand.

"Thank you, sir. I assure you, there will be no more incidents of this nature," Snape finally managed quietly.

"I wouldn't fret about it too much, my boy. I believe I can guarantee that Poppy will sign off on your clean bill of mental health the morning the current seventh years graduate," Albus said. He wasn't twinkling, but his expression was optimistic as well as admonishing.

Any repeats before Poppy certified him fit... the morning of graduation?

Severus had a really odd look on his face as Dumbledore escorted him to the door and nudged him in the direction of the infirmary. It was partially that expression which had saved him. Albus could recognize the expression of someone who'd truly lost it.

In more than one sense.

Professor McGonagall knew that look.

It was a combination of the falsely contrite 'I'm going to try to save someone else by confessing to something implausible' expression she'd seen on Miss Granger during the first year Troll incident and an 'I've just been on cloud nine and only half come down' sort of look. Together, they comprised a good approximation of the patented Gryffindor Lioness expression of possessiveness, and she'd a fair idea of whom, exactly, Miss Granger had staked her claim to.

"Let's talk while we're walking, shall we?" the professor suggested. This was going to be more awkward than she thought.

But before Minerva could attack or Hermione defend, they bumped into Professor Quill. Almost literally.

"Oh, good afternoon, Professor McGonagall, Miss Granger. Such a coincidence! I was just thinking of you...Miss Granger, that is. I suppose you've already made your plans for after graduation, haven't you? You're quite the promising Ancient Runes student, and I've had it in mind to take an apprentice. I might want to retire someday, you know," she said cheerily.

McGonagall narrowed her eyes at Quill. This was an almost Albus-like tactic.

"I have put in applications at the Ministry, pending my N.E.W.T.s," Hermione said hesitantly. "Nothing I've got my heart set on, though." Ancient Runes were all very interesting, but she hadn't quite the knack for translation that made her want to do it for a living. Still, teaching wasn't an unappealing thought, especially since she'd be living at the castle...

"That's remarkable, Professor Quill," Minerva piped up, subtly shaking her head slightly at her colleague from over Miss Granger's shoulder. "I was just about to tell Miss Granger that I've been seriously considering the need to train a replacement Transfiguration Professor. After all, Albus has been talking about retirement, and it would be nice to know I have someone ready to take my place, once I've taken his."

Hermione was gobsmacked. Not that Professor McGonagall had never hinted at the idea she'd make a fine apprentice, but this was not at all where she'd thought the conversation would be going. Was it really going to be that easy?

"Miss Granger, perhaps I should make myself more clear. Are you interested in my offer of an apprenticeship?" McGonagall asked pointedly, when the only response her earlier statement yielded was rapid blinking.

"Of course, Professor McGonagall!"

"Then, you must conduct yourself especially well these last few months of the term. I know that N.E.W.T.s present a great deal of stress, but there is no excuse for unbecoming conduct. After all, should you need receive another detention such as today's, I would be forced to conclude you aren't proper apprentice material." Minerva gave her a very sharp look, indeed.

"Perhaps Miss Granger should see Madam Pomfrey periodically over the next few months...just to ensure that her emotional well-being isn't in jeopardy from the strain and whatnot," Quill suggested mildly. She had a slightly resigned look on her face, but otherwise seemed unperturbed at having missed out on an apprentice.

So it wasn't going to be that easy. Obviously, they had some clue what was going on and weren't going to let it be repeated during the school year. Hermione sighed inwardly, wondering if Se...Professor Snape...would be willing to arrange a meeting at some point in the summer. Preferably sooner rather than later.

"Yes, I do believe you should see Madam Pomfrey today," Minerva said decisively. "And mind what I said, if you're in earnest about accepting my offer."

"Certainly, Professor," Hermione promised solemnly. After all, she'd at least have her chance come autumn...assuming Professor Snape survived his encounter with the Headmaster.

"Once you are living in the castle as an apprentice, you will be obliged to do as Professor McGonagall bids, of course. Though you will have some days and evenings to yourself, between your lessons and your share of rounds and whatnot... Being a mature witch of good judgment, I'm sure you will find good company and suitable diversion during your free time," Quill said cheerily from behind her book.

Hermione decided it was better for her sanity if she convinced herself that Professor Quill hadn't winked when she said that.

Minerva decided to help Clara find an apprentice so the poor old girl could retire before going altogether barmy.

Professor Quill was staring into the pages of her latest tome/walnut crusher as Severus wandered by on his way to his mandatory 'checkup.' Of course, her peripheral vision remained excellent, as always.

"Might want to try to tone down that silly grin, Severus dear," she said mildly. "The students will think you've been letting the fumes get to you."

"You're going to blow your cover, Clara," he replied, following her advice.

"Not to anyone but you. Congratulations, by the way. Just one word of warning..."

"What would that be?"

"With regards to Gryffindors...once you turn them on, you can forget about turning them off."

Severus couldn't stop grinning all the way to the infirmary.

There was no trace of anything but a perfectly respectful student and professor as Miss Granger crossed paths with Professor Snape after a quick visit to Madam Pomfrey.

"Good day, sir. I hope you are well."

"Good day, Miss Granger. I'm afraid it appears I've gone a bit around the bend."

"What a coincidence."

"The Headmaster assures me I'll be back to normal by graduation day this year."

"The coincidences continue to accrue, Professor."

"Indeed."

"I'll be staying at the castle one week on from the end of the term. Professor McGonagall would like me to do my share towards closing up the school for the summer and select my rooms for next year... when I start my Transfiguration apprenticeship."

"Congratulations are in order, then. May I be so bold as to suggest we celebrate your new job... say, the evening after you are officially no longer a student here?"

"Yes, I think that would be entirely appropriate. Especially since we'll both be 'cured' by then."

"What are your plans for summer?"

"Well, my parents have scarcely seen me since the summer before last. Since I'll be returning here this autumn, I really think I should spend it with them."

"Perfectly reasonable. But I'm afraid it shows up the fact that I have, indeed, gone a bit mad."

"How so?"

"This will be the first summer in about sixteen years that will be entirely too long for my liking."

Author's Notes:

You have no idea how long (or how much) I agonized over the 'Will they or won't they?' question. I've never written anything student-teacher before and very nearly had Severus successfully send Hermione away. Finally, my husband looked over my shoulder at the screen and said, "She's of age, for crying out loud, and she's drooling all over him. Just put them out of their misery already!" (I think there was an implied 'especially him!' at the end of that.)

So, you can thank my man for the fact that you didn't have to wait for the epilogue (and graduation)those sillies to get together. Or blame him, if it was too silly for you.