Chapter 25

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

Thanks go to ladyinthecloak for beta reading this.

2 November 1996

Hermione could barely see where she was going, as the tears in her eyes were making her vision blurry. Ron could be such an insensitive prat. She had no idea what she'd done to offend him so. Well, she supposed she could understand that he was disappointed that she hadn't had faith in him to be in top form as Keeper during the game. She'd truly believed that all those good plays were luck brought on by Felix Felicis, not skill or coincidence. But there was something else lingering there. She wondered if Harry knew what she'd done to make Ron so angry.

Not that long ago, he'd seemed pleased that she'd mentioned wanting to ask him to Slughorn's party, but she'd seen him minutes earlier, sucking face with Lavender Brown! It was a shock, and it hurt so much. When he'd brought Lavender into the room that she'd been in while talking to Harry, she couldn't help sending her conjured birds to attack him. She knew only one reason he and that witch would have needed a private room: sex.

What had changed? She'd been so sure that he cared for her but just couldn't admit it. But hang on... If he did, what was he doing with Lavender? More sobs wracked her body and she leaned against the cold stones of the wall, sliding down its bumpy exterior to land on her arse. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. She was doing her best to help out behind the scenes with Professor Snape, so she had a lot on her plate at the moment, what with revising and all. But this thing with Ron, it was really bothering her.

"Not in your common room celebrating with the other Gryffindors?" asked a silky voice.

Oh no... It can't be. Not now. When she looked up into his wandlight, she was certain she heard a sharp intake of breath...probably because she looked so miserable. "No, sir," she muttered, recognizing her professor's voice and trying to even out her own.

"Has someone hexed you, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, stooping down to look at her more closely.

"No, I just..." She had to force herself to breathe deeply for a few moments, else she might begin to sob anew. "I'm having problems of the personal sort."

"I am not here to listen to any rubbish about schoolgirl dramatics," he said, rising brusquely.

"Well, it's not like I searched you out, is it?" she snapped angrily, having had enough of his ugliness. She didn't need his shite on top of everything else. "Take points, give me a detention, and be done with it!"

"Five points from Gryffindor then. I certainly don't appreciate your tone."

"Can't you ever just be nice?"

"Two more points. I'm not here to be nice, Miss Granger. I'm here to make certain that students are..."

"Then maybe I should rephrase that, Professor. Can't you ever be decent? I'm having a horrible evening, and you're just trying to make it worse! On purpose, I think." She sniffed loudly. "I just wanted to be alone."

"And that you happen to be in the dungeons should not draw my attention? Why else would you be here if not to see me?"

"I...what? Dungeons?" For the first time, she looked around. She'd fled so quickly and had somehow ventured down near his office. "I didn't realize..."

"Up. Come on," he said, beckoning for her to follow him.

She quickly did so and silently went where he led, wiping her tear-streaked cheeks. Was he going to give her a detention right then? She thought it possible, as he seemed to be leading her to his classroom.

To her surprise, they passed that doorway and ventured past his office to a tapestry. He lifted it and mumbled something before stepping aside. "Please, come in."

Hermione entered the small opening in the wall and was surprised to find herself in what looked like a cozy sitting room. A few shelves of books lined the walls, along with a few paintings. The chairs and chaise were plush and softly covered in the shade of black. She felt his robes brush by her a moment later. "Where is this?"

"My home while at Hogwarts," he said quietly, not looking at her. "I thought you might like a moment to compose yourself before returning to whomever had you so worked up." He strode off towards a small cabinet. "I have butterbeer if you'd like."

"I would," she said in surprise, seating herself in a chair beside his grate, taking the offering of a drink as an invitation. I can't believe he's invited me to his personal chambers. Instead of feeling uneasy, she felt very comfortable.

As he returned to take the seat across from her, he handed her one of the two bottles he held. They shared a quiet moment before he spoke. "Sometimes what we want most isn't what we get. Other things happen." He took a long sip before continuing. "I've found that by distancing oneself from nearly everything can keep a person from falling into despair." He gestured towards her. "The way you were, hurt and angry. I know those feelings well. Or I have known them in the past."

Was he trying to give her advice? She tried to imagine him being the one alone in a corridor crying over a lost love. Had he ever loved someone? It seemed surreal, but why shouldn't he have had someone in the past? She'd just never thought of the possibility that he wasn't always the cold man that he was now.

Compelled to talk to him, to know him, she said, "When I first came here to Hogwarts, I was alone...not by choice...and I hated it. I don't do lonely well."

"It gets easier as time goes by."

"Ron's just been... He and I, we've been arguing a lot, and just now, I set a small flock of birds after him. I shouldn't have done it, but it felt so good to hurt him the way he hurt me."

He sat back in his chair and looked at her thoughtfully. "It sometimes feels too good to lash out at those we are angry with. It can become a habit if you aren't careful. And sometimes... Sometimes it's too late to take back the pain you've caused...no matter how justified you felt about it at the time."

She frowned, but was glad he hadn't taken points for her admission of attacking another student. "I just...why does he have to want her? I'm the one who's been at his side all this time. How can he just shove me off like that for her?" At this, his eyes widened, and she found she couldn't look away from him. "I'm sorry. I know you said you didn't want to hear about the students' lives."

"If you repeat any of what I'm about to tell you, I shall dock a hundred points from your house and give you detention with Filch for a month..." He gave her a tight smile.

"You have my word to keep silent...as always, sir." She returned his smile. "I think I've proven trustworthy already."

"Those words you just said...I've said them before in my past as well. Suffice it to say that the woman I thought to be the one for me turned away from me. Of course, I wasn't exactly perfect back then, so some of the fault does lay on me; however, like you, I wouldn't have thought her capable of choosing someone else over me."

"Oh, I'm so sorry for you."

He held up a hand. "It was an experience that made me the person I am today. I am stronger for it. I know not to let anyone get too close, for even those you trust most can betray you in the end."

She nodded, though she hoped she'd never turn out like Professor Snape...bitter and lonely. "I'll take those words to heart, Professor."

"I doubt you will, Miss Granger, but I felt the need to say them all the same. It may not be the most appealing lifestyle, but you'll not find yourself weeping in the corridors at least."

"Please don't be offended, sir, when I say this, all right? I don't want to be alone. I want to have a life full of happiness...a secure home, a steady relationship, a job. What hurts is that I might not have it with the one person I've been pining for."

"You'll live," he said a little harshly. "You learn to adjust." Downing the last of his butterbeer, he rose and placed the bottle on the small table next to his chair.

She took another swig and did the same. "Sir, for what it's worth, I'm glad I found my way down to the dungeons. I... I appreciate the talk."

He shrugged before speaking. "You will serve detention tomorrow night, Miss Granger."

Upon hearing this, disappointment filled her. She'd thought that they'd exchanged a friendly talk, that he'd been trying to help her, and yet, the entire time he'd still planned on giving her a detention. "Yes, sir."

"Well, it's been over a week, after all, since you've come to work with me on our assignment."

At this, she smiled brightly. "Thank you. I'll see myself out."

"Good night, Miss Granger."

As she made her way back up to Gryffindor Tower, she wondered what a Severus Snape in love would be like. Who had hurt him so? Would he ever find someone again? Hermione truly hoped so.

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20 December 1996

Hermione leaned against the shadows of the stone wall, hoping she was camouflaged enough not to be seen by McLaggen, who'd been trying to find her since she'd slipped out of Slughorn's party to hide. It seemed like he had a tracking charm on her, for no matter which corridor she tried to hide in, he'd soon pass by. It's why she hadn't gone back to the common room. She certainly didn't want to see Ron and Lavender. Or even Parvati, who'd lately taken to saying things purposely that would hurt her feelings. She shouldn't have expected anything less, considering the girl was Lavender's best mate.

The profile of the person wandering the corridor came into view, and she breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't her date's bulky frame. However, she'd know this profile anyplace. But for the first time in her life, she wasn't assaulted with his normal scent...a woodsy smell that was very appealing. It seemed that the good professor had had a few drinks at Slughorn's party. She'd only seen him briefly earlier, and he'd had a tumbler in his hand, but he'd seemed normal, his dark gaze taking in every detail.

Suddenly, he stumbled slightly and began to mutter. "What the...? Who put that bloody stone there?" At this, he paused and snickered. "That little brat and the old fool's got me talking to myself. Idiots, the both of them."

Hermione stifled her laughter and wondered exactly whom he was talking about. She supposed the brat could be Harry and the old fool could be Slughorn because when she'd hidden behind a drapery at the party, she'd seen both talking to him. When he nearly stumbled again, this time having to catch his balance by grabbing the wall, she strode forward and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Profe..."

Before she could finish her sentence, she felt the tip of his wand against her throat and met a menacing glare. Her hand fell away from him as she swallowed fearfully.

Recognition lit his eyes. "You! What are you doing here? We aren't to meet until after the holidays."

"I'm hiding."

"From whom?" His eyes darted around as if trying to see her foe.

"From my date. I've been trying to avoid him."

"Why?"

"He keeps dragging me under any nearby mistletoe."

Snape lowered his wand and let out a bark of laughter, his alcohol-laced breath hitting her as he did so. She waved her hand in front of her nose to clear away the air and made a face.

"Good grief, sir."

"Most girls your age want nothing but snogs under the mistletoe, and here you are, Migg Sranger, hiding from it." He shook his head. "Weasley, is it? Not the great kisser you'd hoped, eh?"

She felt her cheeks heat and didn't comment on the drunken mispronunciation of her name. "No, I'm still angry with him. It's... McLaggen."

"That dunderhead! Ahahahahaa!"

"Sshh!" she said bossily. "What if someone hears you? Or worse, what if he hears you?" She tugged on his robes and slid a hand around his waist, forcing him to put his arm around her shoulders. "Come on. Let's get you home."

"If you don't mind, girl, I am quite incapable of... Hang on. Quite capable of handling you myself. Wait! That's not what I meant. Handling myself, thank you."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh lightly. "Don't worry, sir. I know. It's the...whatever you've had to drink."

"I didn't mean that I would handle myself," he said, suddenly stopping, his face scrunched in horror.

"What have you had to drink?"

"Slughorn had some concoction."

"I'm quite shocked to be honest. You seem too..."

"Oi! I can enjoy a few drinks the same as anyone else."

"I know, but you seem too reserved." She lowered her voice. "And I know you're on the lookout for things."

He snorted. "Draco," he muttered. "Nothing will come of anything tonight, and I've just come from the headmaster's office. He doesn't care either it seems." He shook his head and began to murmur to himself.

She thought she heard the words "dotty" and "unprepared," but couldn't be certain. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"You've not." He began walking again, more steadily. "You won't mention this, will you?"

"Do I ever mention anything?"

That was when he graced her with the most perfect smile she'd ever seen. It took years away from his own thirty-six, and he looked quite handsome. He sort of reminded her of Victor, except he was quite thinner. Was it a trick of the light? No, she could very well see the similarities...dark eyes, same type of nose, dark hair, and... "Professor, we're nearly at the staircase. Please hold on to the railway there. I don't want you to fall." Or take me down with you, she added to herself.

Luckily, they reached the bottom of the narrow stairway without accident and smoothly made their way to the tapestry that hid the entrance to his rooms.

"Here you are," she said as she watched him steady himself.

"I am... thoroughly embarrassed," he said honestly. "I don't know what's got into me. Tonight's just been..." He shook his head and gazed down at her as if seeing her for the first time, causing her heartbeat to quicken. "Do you want to come in?" he asked softly.

"I... No," she blurted. "I don't want to get back too late. Hopefully, he's gone to bed by now... or found someone else to manhandle." She wasn't certain why, but of all the time she'd been spending alone with Snape, this was the first time she'd ever felt uncomfortable. There was something in his gaze, and then him asking her to his rooms? That alone was a loaded question. What exactly did he need her for?

He nodded. "I don't blame him, Lily. I would have tried to get you under the mistletoe as well." He lifted a hand and nearly caressed her cheek before thinking better of it and disappearing behind his tapestry.

She stood there, stunned, mouth gaping open. First, he'd called her Lily. There was only one Lily that she knew: Harry's mum. Secondly, had he just flirted with her? Had he admitted that he thought her attractive enough to kiss? Puzzled and afraid suddenly, she ran back to the stairwell that would lead her to the higher floors.

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5 January 1997

Hermione walked into the castle with the other students who'd just arrived on the Hogwarts Express and deftly dodged hard snowballs Peeves had been pelting out at everyone. Before she could turn towards the stairway that would lead her up to Gryffindor Tower, Headmaster Dumbledore called out to her.

"Hello, my dear, have a nice holiday?" he asked.

"I did, sir. You?"

"Quite nice." With his good hand, he handed her two scrolls of parchment. His withered hand pointed to the shorter one. "I need you to give this to Harry for me as soon as he gets in."

"Certainly. And this one?"

"Professor Snape. I believe he's in his office just now." He smiled kindly. "You'd save an old man a long walk if you'd deliver it."

"I'll bring it to him now." She smiled, hoping she didn't reveal the trepidation she felt at seeing Professor Snape again after what had happened. "Er, do you know if Hagrid is at his hut?"

"Why, I believe so."

"I might visit him and Bu-Witherwings for a while... until Harry gets back."

"I expect he'd like that very much. Good day."

"Thank you, sir."

She placed the scrolls in her pocket and smugly looked at Lavender, who seemed shocked that the headmaster had sought Hermione out. Needing to compose herself...and make sure the Slytherins were in their common room...before going to see Professor Snape, she stood by a window and looked out.

Most of the holiday had been spent wondering what Harry and Ron had been up to. She was glad to have had the time with her parents, however, and didn't regret staying with them the entire time off. Besides, she was still very angry with Ron, and she'd be damned if she would apologize to him first. He'd started this entire mess. Another part of the holiday had been spent thinking about Severus Snape.

She'd analyzed the conversation they'd shared many times over, and she'd come to the conclusion that he'd been too impaired to realize what he'd been saying. He'd called her someone else's name, a name that she was certain belonged to her best friend's late mother. It made her feel better, for she was a little concerned that any person in a position of authority would fancy one of his charges.

And it also made her feel worse... for she'd taken to fantasizing about him. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help it. Several times she'd imagined being stuck beneath the mistletoe down a deserted corridor at Hogwarts with him coming to her rescue. Nearly each time, she imagined him to say something like, "I've been wanting to kiss you like this for weeks now." Another fantasy, a more naughty one that she thought of only in the darkest hours of night in her own bed, brought forth the scenario that she'd taken up his offer to join him in his chambers. Was it healthy for a seventeen-year-old girl to be thinking of a professor this way?

Biting her lip, she thought again of those visions she'd conjured, him leaning down to kiss her (the way she'd always wanted Ron to do), him unbuttoning his robes with that lovely smile he'd bestowed on her, him moving between her thighs and...

"Blast," she muttered. He's a Legilimens! What if he 'sees' this in my mind? She calmed herself by repeating the word "relax" a few times and breathed deeply. All she had to do was clear her mind of these thoughts, lock them away in a secret place in her mind. If they weren't on her mind, he'd never see them...not that he'd be looking into her mind anyway, but one could never be certain.

Slowly, she made her way down to the dungeons, her shoes clicking against the stone. On the way she'd met a few sneering Slytherins, mostly younger years, but no one had said a word to her. When she stopped in front of his doorway, her heart began hammering in her chest. What if he stops our association like he did when he stopped Harry's Occlumency lessons? The project we've been working so hard on will have been for nothing! Dumbledore will be so disappointed.

Knock. Knock.

"Enter," he called out.

Hermione pushed the door open and walked in. "Hello, Professor."

"Miss Granger, back from holiday I see?"

"Yes, sir." Her eyes lifted to meet his, and all the tension in her body left. He didn't seem displeased to see her. "Er, have a nice holiday?"

"As good as one can have being stuck in a castle with nine whinging children underfoot part of the time." He beckoned her closer. "And you?"

"It was nice. I spent it with my parents."

"Yes, I remember you saying you were going there. It's why we couldn't work together over the holiday." When she said nothing, he asked, "What brings you here?"

"Oh!" She dug in her pocket and found the scroll. "Professor Dumbledore asked me to give this to you. He said you'd be here now, so I came down right away."

"I wonder why he simply didn't send it in the Floo."

She shrugged. "I don't know, sir."

Without opening it, he tossed it onto his desk. "Will there be anything else?"

"Nothing else. I... Are we still on for Thursday?"

"I must apologize, but no, we aren't. Something's come up."

"Right then. When would you like me to come?"

His brow furrowed for a moment before he said, "I will have to contact you to let you know."

"Okay." She felt a little let down. Did he feel awkward and was now trying to avoid her? It had seemed, at first, that he'd not remembered what had happened. She'd hoped that perhaps with the alcohol he'd consumed, he'd awakened the next morning and hadn't remembered. She wasn't so sure now. "I'll just go then."

"Good day."

"Thanks." She turned and made her way to the door but stopped. When she turned back to face him, she saw that he was just opening the parchment. "Sir?"

"Yes?" He looked up from the scroll.

Hermione was unsure where her courage came from, but she formed the words boldly. "The reason we're not meeting Thursday, is it because of... Are you upset with me?"

Snape shook his head. "Not at all. If you must know, I've been invited to dinner for my birthday. I am unable to... decline this invitation."

She brightened. "Happy birthday then... early of course."

He smirked and waved her off with a shake of his head.

Practically skipping, she happily made her way to Hagrid's hut. For some reason, it was very important to her that they move past what had happened. And she wanted to pat herself on the back, for she hadn't thought about her silly fantasies once while in his presence.

Later that evening, alone in bed, she found herself thinking about Professor Snape again. This time he wasn't the playing the part in one of her fantasies. Harry had told her all he'd overheard the night of Slughorn's party, which put some things into prospective for her. She couldn't come out and tell Harry what she knew because then she'd have to tell the whole tale, and besides, she didn't want to betray Professor Snape that way...or have it get back to him.

She was certain now that he'd been drunkenly muttering about Draco, not Harry, and instead of Slughorn, it must have been Dumbledore to whom he was referring as the old fool. That made sense, and unlike Harry, she believed that he'd only said those things to Draco because he was spying on him. She wished she could ease Harry's mind. Hopefully, when he talked to the headmaster on the following evening, the man would let Harry know that all was well and that the professor could be trusted.

Something else had been plaguing her for the last few minutes as well. Who had invited him to dinner on the evening of his birthday? Surely it wasn't Voldemort, unless that was just a cover up. No, it seemed true. Was it a woman? Her eyes narrowed as she imagined some beautiful woman kissing him and asking him to join her in her bedroom.

Hermione's eyes widened. The feelings she felt at that moment were very familiar. She felt nearly the same way when she saw Lavender attached to Ron's face like some great bloody eel sucking the life out of him. She was jealous. Jealous and didn't quite like it. Or understand it.

How in the hell had this happened?

AN: Thanks for sticking with me, dear readers (most of you anyway). I hope you are enjoying our walk down memory lane. I'm really having fun with this part of the story. I guess the build up to a relationship is my favorite thing to read or write about.