Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Hermione Granger was not at Hogwarts, but Severus had a very good idea where she would be on a sunny Saturday morning. While most of the students and professors were enjoying the warm spring day by the lake or on the lush grounds of the school, Hermione was in a bookstore, Flourish and Blotts, to be exact. He didn't find the sight of her familiar brown hair in front of the bookshelves to be at all surprising when he stepped inside the shop to pick up his latest specially ordered Potions encyclopedia. He doubted she had ever enjoyed an unseasonably warm spring day without a book in front of her face. And, oddly enough, the thought endeared Hermione to him more than he would have liked.

Severus stepped forward to peer over her shoulder. Malicious Magic: How to Cope When It Takes One You Love and Moving On: A Guide to Accepting the Past and Enjoying the Present With Ten Easy Spells were just two of the titles on the bookshelf she was perusing. Severus frowned. He knew she was still upset over the deaths of her parents, Potter, and Weasley, not to mention a myriad of other friends during the war. However, he had no idea she was distraught enough to run to these self-help books.

"I always find that a good Dreamless Sleep potion works better than these books," he intoned softly.

Hermione whirled around to face him, obviously startled by his presence. "Professor Snape! I didn't know you were here."

"I'm picking up a book I ordered several weeks ago."

"I'm..." Hermione trailed off and gestured half-heartedly at the bookshelf.

He nodded. "Yes, well, like I said, I find that denial and a healthy dose of Dreamless Sleep works much better than building character and working through issues."

Hermione smiled before breaking into a hearty laugh. When her giggles subsided, she looked at him with shining eyes. "Thank you for that."

Severus shifted under the intensity of her gaze, annoyed that making her smile meant so much to him. He tried to blame his behavior on the novel he had found her with two nights ago. While he had felt a semblance of pity for her before then, it wasn't until the incident on the entry stairs that he had began desiring her friendship. Perhaps even more than that, Severus thought, watching her brush a lock of hair from her cheek. It wasn't every day that he interrupted an attractive young witch with a sexy novel perched in her lap.

Finally, Hermione sobered up and cleared her throat. "I think I should probably skip the self-help section and just get that new reference guide to frog entrails. I'm sure it will put me to sleep in a snap."

"Perhaps that would be for the best." He motioned toward the front of the store with a nod of his head.

She joined him, and they both strolled toward the door. For such a beautiful day, the shop certainly was busy. He noticed a knot of women bustling around a new display by the entrance. Severus snorted. "What are they about?"

Breaking away from him, Hermione ventured over to the display, reached over a short witch's head, and plucked one of the books from the stack. Moments later, she returned to him with a somewhat sheepish look on her face. "It's Des'ree Derringer's new novel," she explained, handing the hardback book to her former professor.

Severus glanced down at the cover. A shirtless wizard was passionately kissing a buxom witch while his arm was thrown out behind him, pointing a wand at an unseen enemy. "Well, perhaps you should get this to add to your... collection."

Hermione's face flushed a becoming shade of red. "No, thanks. But, since you are so interested in the genre, you may want to purchase it."

He chuckled and flipped the book over in his hand. Besides Albus, Severus was hard-pressed to remember the last time someone felt at ease enough to joke with him. "I don't believe I'll purchase it, but, judging by the gaggle of witches over there, I'm sure it would be a lucrative genre to write in."

"Definitely more lucrative than Potions," Hermione agreed.

"Or any academic area, for that matter."

"True." Hermione laughed lightly. "Perhaps I should try my hand at it. I'll never be able to fund my own research with just my salary as a professor at Hogwarts."

Severus knew her words were in jest, but he couldn't help the surge of excitement that washed through him at the very mention of Hermione relating sexual encounters in her own words. He wondered if it would be as wordy and flowing as the essays she wrote during her time as a student. Perhaps it would be too detailed, like her academic writing. Severus bit his tongue trying to hide a smile when he thought of her twelve-inch parchment description of her hero's nine-inch penis. "Seeing as how you excel at anything you put your mind to, perhaps you should."

He watched as her cheeks colored to an even darker red. "As much as I'd like to knock Des'ree Derringer off her throne, I don't think romance novels are quite my strong suit. I believe I'll stick to my more academic undertakings."

"Just imagine the Galleons you'd receive for such a bestseller."

She smiled at him. "If I ever do write something, I'll be sure to let you mark it up with that infamous red quill of yours, Professor."

Severus nearly swallowed his tongue. He had very little experience with young women, but her teasing comment had come across in a flirtatious manner. It excited him and made him nervous. He knew he'd spend his evening lying in bed with this interaction replaying in his mind, wondering what sort of wanton little tale Hermione Granger would write if she indeed wrote one. She wouldn't do it, he was sure, and even if she did, he'd never have the pleasure of marking it like he marked her overachieving essays all those years, but that didn't stop him from wishing.

"By all means, Granger," he finally replied in a dry voice. "I'd love the chance to wield my infamous red quill in the pursuit of your salacious literary glory."

She laughed at him again, turning her eyes up to look him fully in the face. "I'm glad you have a sense of humor, Professor. It seems you've been the only one to make me laugh recently."

He looked down his nose at her, affecting a look of disdain. "Oh, so I'm amusing to you now?"

"Very," she replied, biting her lower lip to keep a smile from spreading.

"There goes my reputation." He nodded at her before turning to exit the store.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione wearily leaned against the rough, stone wall and removed her shoe. She gave her aching foot a few quick squeezes before replacing the high-heeled shoe. Thankfully, the corridor was empty, and all the students were making their way toward the Great Hall for dinner. She knew the shoes were a mistake by the time she finished her first class, but the day had been so busy that she'd yet to find time to return to her room for a more comfortable pair.

Actually, the entire week had been tiresome and unending. Nightmares had plagued her dreams each night, and the lack of sleep didn't help her patience with the more difficult students. Today, especially, had been far too long and tiring.

Returning to her quarters for the evening held no comfort when she knew it would be spent worrying over whether she would be able to sleep and feeling completely alone in the void of her life. Minerva meant well, but Hermione disliked her tendency to all but force the conversation back to the events after graduation. Sometimes she just wanted to talk about anything but the people who had died.

Severus Snape was someone she'd enjoy talking to, spending more time with, but he was inaccessible. She wasn't sure how to approach him and ask if he'd like to have a cup of tea in her chambers after dinner. It was just too awkward, and despite his amiable behavior recently, Hermione wasn't sure if he'd even find such an offer agreeable. They hadn't spoken much since their impromptu meeting in Flourish and Blotts the previous week. Hermione found she missed his company more than she thought possible.

Blowing a strand of hair out of her face, she shoved her foot back into the shoe and started toward the Great Hall.

Dinner was well underway when Hermione arrived and slipped into her chair between Snape and Minerva. She was hungry, but nothing on the table looked appetizing in the least. After several long seconds of debating whether she should just get up and leave, she pulled a small bowl of soup in front of her. Hermione could feel Snape's eyes on her, but she tried to ignore him. Since the book incident, he had a tendency to make her feel awkward and embarrassed by just looking at her.

She swirled the spoon in the broth of the soup and stared at the rest of the food on the table.

"Eat something, dear. You look like you could use it," Minerva said, giving her a worried look.

Hermione felt like sinking into her seat and hiding under the table. She hated eating at the staff table on the raised platform where all the students could easily see her sulking over her meal. "I'm not really hungry," she finally replied, pushing the bowl away and picking up a piece of crusty bread.

Minerva frowned, letting her gaze linger on Hermione, as if she wanted to force her former student to eat something. Deciding against that course of action, the Headmistress turned back to her own plate.

"Have you begun it yet?"

Hermione glanced over at Snape and raised her brows in question. "Begun what?"

A faint smile was pulling at the edges of his thin mouth. "The novel."

Cursing herself for blushing in front of him again, she shook her head in an emphatic no. "I couldn't possibly. I know Potions; I know Charms; I don't know romance."

"I'm sure you could use your imagination." He dabbed his lips and placed his linen napkin on top of his half-empty plate.

She wasn't sure how he made her feel at ease and embarrassed at the same time. It was just nice to talk to someone who didn't want to rehash the events that led up to Harry's and Ron's deaths. She didn't want to heal; she didn't even think it was possible. Verbal sparring with Snape about her dubious taste in reading material was a welcome change to the hesitant conversations with all the other professors in which they all walked on eggshells, afraid they would damage her further.

Hermione shrugged and popped a piece of bread into her mouth. It was still warm, and it tasted better than she thought it would. "I don't think I'll be adding romance author to my list of titles," she replied dryly.

"Pity," he said, standing up and gathering his robes. "How will you fund your personal research then?"

She didn't have the chance to respond before he swept away and exited through the door behind the staff table. Her stomach was fluttering, but she didn't think it was hunger. Hastily eating the piece of bread in her hand, she stood and excused herself from dinner.

Hermione took her time walking back to her chambers, knowing that she'd spend the rest of the night alone and feeling sorry for herself because of it. Snape's persistence over the silly notion of her actually penning a romance novel was slowly making its way under her skin. Hermione shut the door to her rooms behind her and laughed softly to herself. Maybe I could write one, she mused, sitting down at her desk. He was right; it would be an excellent way to make some additional money for research purposes, especially since she had been itching to experiment with using potions and charms in tandem. Potions ingredients were expensive, especially if one desired high quality ones.

Pulling a blank parchment to her, she tapped a dry quill against it. Nothing. She had no ideas, no inspiration. Who was she kidding? She couldn't write a romance novel. A pile of first-year essays was sitting on the corner of her desk. She really didn't want to read any of them.

Instead of delving into the pile of parchments to be marked, she stood up and walked over to the wall of bookshelves behind her desk. The single shelf with the romance novels Snape had so easily found several days before stood out in stark contrast to everything else. Sighing to herself, she ran a finger along the spines, finally pulling out one at random. Like all the others, she had already read it, but it would get her mind off the loneliness of her solemn rooms.

A few minutes later, Hermione found herself striding across the lush lawn of Hogwarts. The dim moonlight reflecting off the dark lake was beautiful. She settled herself on a patch of grass just shy of the shore and opened the novel. She had bought it at a Muggle used bookstore, and it smelled glorious. The musty scent of old books always made Hermione feel better.

She was only three chapters into the novel when the soft sound of footsteps across the lawn caught her attention. Old habits die hard, and Hermione found her wand in her hand before she even consciously thought to pull it out. Twisting in her seated position, she saw Snape walking toward her, his robes forgotten and only an austere black frock coat in their place.

"Professor," she acknowledged, slipping her wand away.

"Miss Granger," he replied, nodding at her. "Curfew is only fifteen minutes away. Setting a bad example for the students, are we?" Hermione had noticed his tendency to switch back and forth between calling her Professor and Miss. She suspected he used the Miss when he wanted to tease or berate her. She hoped he was teasing this time.

She smiled up at him. If anyone had told her two years ago that Severus Snape would be the only person in the world who could make her smile, she would have laughed in their faces. "I was just getting some fresh air after a hard day of classes."

"The children are exceptionally stupid this year," he commented, lowering himself to the ground beside her. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, the heels of his boots digging into the edge of sand along the lakeshore. Propping himself up on arms thrown out behind him, he glanced over at the book in her hands. "Are you reading another piece of erotic fiction, Professor Granger?"

"I'm gathering information for that book you insist I write."

Snape's brows lifted fractionally. "Oh? I was under the impression that information gathering for such a novel involved more physical activity."

Hermione felt her face flush and her heartbeat speed up. She dropped her eyes to the book in her hands, turning it over to hide the ridiculous cover. "I've always been one for learning from books." Careful not to touch him, she stood and looked down at his upturned face. "I should go. I have to patrol the corridors tonight." Before she began the walk back up to the doors of the old castle, she turned back to him. "Goodnight, Professor."

Snape nodded. "Goodnight, Professor," he replied, turning his eyes to look out over the quiet lake.

Author's Note: A huge, huge thank you to moonrevel and JenF for their invaluable assistance as betas. Also, thank you to the cute tech-y guy who installed the new server in our office and got the computers back up and running with internet. What would I do all day if I couldn't go online at work?