D-E-N-I-A-L

Hello party people!

Also, this is my FIRST story, so please, be nice and helpful. Enjoy! :)

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Chapter 6: D-E-N-I-A-L

"He let you out early? That was your big reward?" Ron asked sarcastically while playing chess with Harry, "Well whoop-whoop-dee-do. I TOLD you it wouldn't be anything good!"

"Quiet, he might be just outside the door!" Harry whispered with a watchful eye, "Remember what happened LAST time you opened your big mouth?!"

"It's fine, Ron," Hermione smiled behind her Arithmancy book, "I'm rather happy and quite grateful about my reward, thank you."

"Oh you're just saying that because you think he's behind the door too!" Ron whispered harshly looking at the door suspiciously.

"No, I am truly grateful. Besides, he wouldn't be up here tonight anyway. When I left he was still marking essays in the dungeons."

"Well good! I hope the greasy git dies in there!" Ron proclaimed with new fervor.

"Ron, PLEASE try to control your tongue," Hermione commanded with a glare.

"Yeah," Harry teased giving him a playful shove, "control your tongue."

"Ron, PLEASE try to control your tongue," Ron mocked in a high pitch voice and a sour look.

Hermione rolled her eyes and disappeared behind her Arithmancy book again. Actually, she wasn't studying Arithmancy at all (she had done that earlier). Oddly enough, her thoughts were with Professor Snape! She still couldn't believe how wonderful he smelled. She supposed he'd smell quite ripe from being locked up in the dungeons with different concoctions brewing all day long. Fortunately, he didn't. She took a deep breath through her nose, remembering his scent. Ah, so good; so strong.

As her thoughts about the Potions Master continued, Hermione remembered how he smiled earlier that evening. If Hermione thought she was surprised at his scent, she nearly fainted at the sight of his smile! Not only was it a rarity to see, but also he looked rather decent when he grinned like that. He wasn't so horrible! In fact, he looked almost... handsome, just like he did when Hermione would cover him with a blanket at Grimmauld Place.

Hermione had to admit she felt a bit uneasy thinking about her professor in such a way, but she didn't feel uncomfortable enough to stop. There was just something about that man that intrigued her. She wasn't sure if it was the first year speech he gave about "bewitching the mind and ensnaring the senses," or if was the way he bravely stepped forth and shoved his Dark Mark under Fudge's nose, or even that he was constantly laying his life on the line to spy for the Order and protect the very students that hated him. Whatever it was, she admired him, and even, on some level, cared for him.

What?! Cared for him?! Good Lord, what was she thinking?! Sure, she was CONCERNED for him, but that wasn't the same as caring! Concerned just meant she somewhat looked out for him and his best interest, but caring implies emotional attachment. She did worry about him and even prayed for his well-being, but she didn't CARE about Severus Snape... did she?

Hermione felt her ears and cheeks grow hot as she thought such things about the Potions Master. God, she must be losing it. Of all the things to think about, she stumbled onto this in that massive brain of hers. Still, she couldn't help but think that perhaps this had to do with something more than...

"Uh-oh, Hermione," Harry grinned devilishly at her, "Someone's thinking dirty thoughts."

"WHAT?!" she asked in disbelief as she was snapped back into reality. She knew Harry practiced some Legilimens with Professor Snape for a little while, but she didn't know he had gotten this good! Oh crap, what was she going to do now?

The only other person that was more surprised by Harry's remark was Ron. Hermione having dirty thoughts? Not possible, unless, of course, they were about him, which, in that case, he wouldn't mind. In fact he'd prefer it. However, he had the sick feeling in his stomach that said her thoughts were not with him, and Ron couldn't afford to lose the girl he'd been pining and crushing after for over six years. Instead, he did what any other chap in his position would do: panicked.

"How can you tell?" Ron asked Harry while suspiciously eyeing Hermione.

"Her ears are red and her cheeks are flushed," Harry pointed out, "I have to admit, 'Mione, that I'm really disappointed that reading an Arithmancy book can turn you on."

Hermione gave an inward sigh on relief. Good, Harry DIDN'T know Legilimens, just too observant for his own good! She looked over at Harry with a glare that would have made Snape proud and spat, "I'm NOT thinking dirty thoughts, you dirty boys!"

"Dirty men!" Harry corrected with a grin and puffed out his chest a bit, "So what were you thinking about 'Mione?"

"Better yet, WHO were you thinking about?" Ron asked seriously.

"Nothing! No one!" Hermione insisted, "I wasn't thinking about anything except Arithmancy!"

"You know you're a bad liar," Harry observed, "Come on, we won't tell, we promise, right Ron?"

"Right, mate," Ron said trying to read Hermione's face, "You can tell us. What were you thinking about?"

"Fine," Hemrione snapped, "You want to know what I was thinking about, Ron? I'll tell you. I was fantasizing about YOU!"

"Really?!" Ron asked as his face lit up and his heart began to beat rapidly in his chest.

"Yes. You're surrounded by a group of gigantic spiders with boxing gloves as they repeatedly beat you about the face! There, is THAT what you wanted to hear?!"

"Not exactly," Ron said downcast with a small frown. Well, at least she was thinking about him. It wasn't specifically how he wanted her to envision him, but it was a start. Sooner or later she'd see him in the right light.

Ron's thoughts were broken by Harry's laughter ringing through out the common room as he chuckled, "Oh Hermione! You are too funny!"

"Oh I'm glad SOMEONE is getting a laugh out of my expense," she said snidely with a grimace.

"Seriously though, WHAT or WHO were you thinking about?" Ron asked again only this time a little aggressively.

"NOTHING!"

"We KNOW you were, Hermione!"

"Yeah, you even smiled a bit," Harry commented.

"Really, we won't tell. We swear."

"Oh Ron, I know why she's not talking. She fancies somebody and she doesn't want US to know WHO!"

"Do you think so?" Ron asked wide-eyed, praying that fellow she fancied was he.

Hermione slammed her book shut and seethed, "Harry Potter, you are absolutely..."

"RIGHT!" Harry beamed cutting her off, "See, I told you!"

"Actually, I was going to say incorrigible!"

"Well Ron, if she's getting THIS defensive, I'd say I'm probably right."

"So, who IS he?" Ron asked Hermione with narrowed eyes and jealously written all over his face.

"It's nobody!" Hermione protested again, "You BOTH are so..."

"RIGHT!" the boys exclaimed simultaneously interrupting her again.

As they burst into laughter (Ron having to force his) Hermione gave up, finding it meaningless to talk to them. It was pointless, especially if they were that riled up over a stupid accusation. Damn her body for giving her away like that! She stood up and stormed over to the stairs with her book in hand.

"Oh, come on now, 'Mione," Ron called after her in an apologetic voice.

"We were only foolin'," Harry explained.

"I know," Hermione sighed, "but I can't concentrate with you two laughing like hyenas, so, if you'll please excuse me, I'll see you in the morning!"

"Concentrate? On what?" Ron asked, "Your Arithmancy or your mystery man you won't tell us about?"

"GOOD NIGHT!" she yelled with a frustrated cry and ran up the rest of the stairs and disappeared down the hall.

When the boys heard the door to the Head Girl's private room slam shut, Harry turned to Ron and whispered, "I think she really DOES fancy some chap."

"I agree," Ron answered in a low voice, "You were right. She wouldn't have gotten that upset if she didn't."

"Who do you think it is?"

"I don't know, but we GOTTA find out who!"

"Let's not pry," Harry cautioned, "She'll tell us when she's good and ready,"

"NO!" Ron protested slamming his fist on the chest board, causing the pieces to scream and scatter, "It might be too late by then! We have to find out NOW!"

"Calm down, Ron! What's the matter with you?"

"Sorry, mate," Ron said grimly diverting his gaze to the fire, "It's just... It's just I..."

"You were hoping it was you she fancied," Harry stated watching his friend with a sympathetic look.

Ron was silent for a few moments as he stared into the fire before giving a great big sigh and said sheepishly, "Yes... I was."

"I thought you were over her already."

"I NEVER got over her, Harry, and I don't think I ever will."

"But Ron..."

"Listen Harry, whether she realizes it or not, I KNOW Hermione and I are meant for each other. It may take her a while to recognize that, but, before you know it, she'll come to me with open arms."

"Ron, I don't want you to get your hopes up, but..."

"Don't worry," Ron said cutting Harry off, "It will all work out in the end. Trust me."

Harry shook his head and sighed. Sometimes Ron could be so delusional.

"What?" Ron questioned.

"Nothing," Harry answered, "Okay, so what's the plan? We find out who this guy is, keep an eye on him, and just act surprised when she finally DOES tell us?"

"Righto!" Ron beamed, "That's what we'll do... for now. Let Operation Fancy Pants begin!"

"Fancy Pants?!"

"Well if you can think of a better name, I'd like to know."

"I think any name other than 'fancy pants' is good."

"Oh bugger off!" Ron scowled.

"Fine," Harry sighed, "let Operation Fancy Pants begin."

The boys shook hands before returning their attention to the chessboard, Ron still thinking about Hermione, hoping that she'd come to her senses soon and hold him in her arms.

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Hermione slammed the door shut as she entered her quarters. She threw the Arithmancy book on the floor and plopped down on her bed. She grabbed her pillow and buried her face into it before screaming at the top of her lungs. Well, she felt a little better, but not completely. As she began to bite at the corner of her pillow, Crookshanks opened one of his eyes lazily and watched her from one of the soft chairs in front of the fire. Seeing she was in no immediate danger, he closed his eye and curled up even tighter than before, continuing to sleep.

"No good gits!" Hermione thought and she slammed the pillow back down on her bed, "What's their problem?! Why do they HAVE to know every inch of my life! Who cares if I LIKE SEVERUS SNAPE or not?! It's not any of their business who..."

She stopped and gasped at herself before covering her mouth with her hands. Holy crap! Did she just say she LIKED SEVERUS SNAPE?! Jesus wept! She didn't even call him 'Professor Snape!' She used his first name! She sighed loudly and ran her fingers through her untamed hair. No, this wasn't right. Only first graders had crushes on their Professors! However, if he was just a Professor to her, then why didn't she call him that? But she didn't. Could that mean she saw Sever... Uh, Professor Snape as something... more? No, of course not!

"Good God, what's gotten into me?!" she quietly said to herself while shaking her head.

No, she didn't have anything feelings for Snape that extended beyond a student/ Professor relationship. She was just angry and upset which caused her not to think straight. Yes, that was it exactly! It HAD to be! Besides, she had been spending so much time with him at Grimmauld Place and detention, what else could she have thought about? Still, in the back of her mind (and maybe deep down in her heart), Hermione thought otherwise. Slowly, she remembered the way he complimented her the night before, how he looked when he slept, how he gave her a homework pass, how he smiled... Maybe Severus wasn't the monster he claimed to be, and maybe she just found out she...

"NO!" she scolded and fell back onto the bed, "Hermione, you're tired! You just need a warm bath and a good night's rest! In the morning you'll be so embarrassed you even thought such things! There's NOTHING going on with PROFESSOR Snape! You feel nothing for him, and he feels nothing for you... because you're nothing to him."

She sighed again and rolled off her bed and onto the floor with a thud. Crookshanks again opened one eye to check on her and then closed it again upon seeing that she actually chose to lie next to her bed instead of on it. Feh, silly humans. He'd never understand them. Hermione lay there for several moments before she crawled her way to the Head Girl's bathroom, hoping there was a way to indeed "wash that man right out of her hair."

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Snape took another double shot of Fire whiskey. He growled a bit as he felt it burn down his throat. He poured himself another and he breathed hard and heavily with watery eyes. He downed the alcohol again, deciding that would be his last. He only hoped he'd be able to wake up and open his eyes tomorrow morning, considering. Well, at least that damnable voice was gone! He didn't think he had too much to drink, but he left the hangover potion upon his nightstand anyway. As he got up from his favorite chair by the fire, he looked around his chambers, something that he had done since he had become a spy. One could never be too careful.

His private chambers were not what anyone would consider "Snape-like." It was very warm and elegant, with only the finest furniture to adorn it. Of course, it was all black furniture, even his bed sheets and towels were black! There was a small kitchen (which he had no idea why it was even there) that he cooked in occasionally when he didn't feel like company or dealing with those damn kids. His bathroom was all in black and white tile, which was big enough to hold a mirror, a sink, a toilet, a bathtub, and a shower.

After seeing everything was in order, Snape sat on the edge of his bed and pulled off his black boots, lining them up along the wall. He sighed as he let his robes and all of his other clothing drop to the floor and crawled under the covers of his soft bed. He sighed somewhat contently as he, for some reason, was reminded of Hermione Granger when his feather pillow was gentle against his cheek.

'I bet her skin is silky like this,' Snape thought to himself with his eyes closed in a rather tipsy state, 'Oh, yes, and she must be warm to the touch!'

Snape snapped his eyes open as he suddenly sobered up. He sat straight up in bed and looked around the room as if he was expecting to see her standing there shaking a finger at him for thinking such dirty thoughts about her.

"What the hell am I thinking?!" he asked running his fingers through his hair, "That damn whiskey is getting to me!"

Slowly, he lowered himself back down onto the bed. He rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. Why was he thinking such things? It had to be the Fire whiskey, of course. There was no other explanation. Although he had to admit that he'd always seen Hermione in a different light ever since she began covering him with a blanket as he slept while they were at Grimmauld Place. She had shown him such kindness, the first caring act someone had shown him since Dumbledore had taken him back from the Dark Side and allowed him Hogwarts' protection. Could she really care about him?

Snape cringed as he pushed the ridiculous thought from his head. No, one could ever love or care for the evil Professor Severus Snape! Wait. Love? Of all the things to think about, why did he think about love? Is it because he loves her? Now THAT is even MORE impossible than the thought of someone actually loving him! He was incapable of love. It was something that was always foreign to him. He had nothing to offer back but despair and emptiness from his cold dark world of guilt. Oh yeah, women love that!

How could he think that she cared for him? Honestly, Voldemort would start eating lemon drops before THAT ever happened. "I am the classic fool," he sighed at his silly thoughts. Nobody could ever care for him... Nobody.

As Snape put his hands behind his head he suddenly remembered the riddle Hermione had told him earlier. Ah, it was a very good riddle! He wasn't surprised she had thought of it. Despite the fact he was slightly inebriated, he decided to try and decipher it nonetheless. After all, he was a Slytherin for a reason!

'My life is measured in hours. I serve by being devoured. Thin, I am quick. Thick, I am slow. A gust of wind is my greatest foe,' he repeated to himself.

He lay there quietly on his bed for several minutes as his muddled thoughts swam in his head. Every so often they were about Hermione or Grimmauld Place, but he mainly focused on the riddle.

The flickering light from the flames in the fireplace would cast silent shadows that crept along the walls. Snape watched the shadows, making sure they were actually shadows and not things that would go "bump" in the night. The light from the fire continued to flicker and caused the shadows to dance. Slowly, a wicked grin spread across Snape's face. At last he discovered the answer to the riddle.

Quite pleased with himself, Snape grabbed his wand, got out of bed, put on a bathrobe, and walked to the kitchen and opened a cupboard over the counter. He searched it until he found exactly what he was looking for. He pulled out the object and smiled another genuine smile. Hermione was going to have quite a shock the next morning.

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Morning came too soon in the Gryffindor dormitories, well, it did for the Head Girl anyway. If Crookshanks hadn't woken up Hermione (just so he could sleep in her bed after she left), she would have slept through the day. She couldn't help it though. She had a restless night, mostly because she was trying to convince herself that she didn't like Professor Snape... in "that" way!

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at Crookshanks who was nose to nose with her purring like some motorboat.

"Well good morning to you too," she sighed and scratched him behind his ear.

Crookshanks purred and slightly drooled with delight before jumping off the bed. As Hermione sat up she stretched and squeezed her eyes shut. Ah, that felt good! She inhaled deeply through her nose expecting to smell the scents of breakfast being cooked in the kitchens, but something else entirely caught her attention...

Sandalwood and cinnamon.

Oh sweet God, Professor Snape!

Hermione's eyes snapped open and frantically darted around the room. She pulled her bed sheet up to her chin and looked for the Potions Master. Was Professor Snape there now?! WHY?! What was he doing in her room?!

"Professor Snape?" she whispered in a shaky voice, "Are you there?'"

Hermione sat in bed not making a sound as only silence greeted her ears. Where was he? Where did he go?

Suddenly, Hermione looked to her right and gasped at the sight. On her nightstand sat a long silver candle with a green wax snake spiraling up the side of it. What the heck? What was this candle doing on her nightstand? That wasn't hers. Slowly (because it was still morning), her mind began to contemplate why she'd have this candle until it suddenly hit her: Professor Snape. He figured out the riddle! Candle was the answer!

Hermione couldn't help but grin when her heart suddenly felt like it jumped into her throat. Had he actually entered her room while she was sleeping and left this snake candle on her nightstand? How else could he do it?

Hermione leaned closer to the candle and inspected it carefully. It was beautiful, the most beautiful candle she had ever seen. She reached out for the candle and skimmed a finger over the head of the snake at the tip. Suddenly, as soon as she touched it, the candle was lit. Hermione gasped and cried out in surprise before quickly withdrawing her hand. Oh, that scared her! Typical of Professor Snape though.

The little flame on the wick danced and flickered as the candle burned the scent of sandalwood and cinnamon. Ah, THAT'S why she could smell it so strongly. It was a scented candle. Ooo, how nice! Who knew Professor Snape kept scented candles in his room? The man truly was a mystery.

She inhaled deeply and sighed as she watched the smoke from the candle curl in the air. Suddenly, the smoke hung over the candle like a cloud until, oddly enough, the smoke began to curl again. Hermione watched the smoke with curiosity as it arched and twisted in the air, waiting to see what in the heck it was going to do. Finally, the smoke curled one more time until it had formed the word "Two" in cursive script.

WHAT?! Why did the smoke just write out "Two?" What in Merlin's name was THAT supposed to mean to her?! She remained silent as the "Two" hung in the air and more smoke began to curl to form another word. Hermione observed as this time the smoke spelled out "bodies." Finally, she realized what was going on: Professor Snape had charmed the candle to spell out a riddle from the smoke. Amazing!

She continued to watch with unbridled excitement as the smoke spelled out word after word until it at last said:

"Two bodies have I, though both joined as one. The stiller I stand, the faster I run."

Hermione read the riddle over and over to herself until she had finally memorized it. Suddenly, the candle was snuffed out and the smoky message was blown away by some unseen wind, leaving the clean spicy scent of the candle to linger in its wake.

"BRILLIANT!" danced Hermione as she leaped out of bed and did a little shimmy and a shake in her PJ's, much to Crookshanks content as he then took over her bed and fell asleep.

After getting her joy out of her system, Hermione practically skipped to her bathroom to prepare for the day. However, as happy as she was, there were still some questions that bothered her in the back of her mind, the major one troubling her the most: How did Professor Snape get a candle into her room?

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Yea, there's chapter 6! I hope you all liked it!

- DADA Mistress