45- Apparition Practice and an Introduction

Standard Disclaimer goes here as always.

Author's Note: I'm so glad many of you weren't upset about the "cliffie" last time. And I'm pleased that there wasn't a rousing chorus of "Ewww, that's not a good middle name for Snape!" LOL This chapter answers some of the questions you've been asking, so I hope you enjoy it! Deepest gratitude as always to my lovely Beta Goddess, Ladyofthemasque, and to SnivellusSnape for pre-reading and sounding board action. Don't forget, you can always check out my LJ for progress and other updates: http://pern-dragon.livejournal.com/ Muchos smooches to all you fab folk who read and review and make my life happy! *hugs* And off we go...

Chapter 45- Apparition Practice and and Introduction

Hermione did her best to stifle the shocked cry that threatened to burst from her mouth as they reappeared. There was an unnerving bare moment of pitch blackness before torches sputtered to life around them. Convulsively gripping Snape's arms, she glanced about wildly, realizing that they were in the corridor they had used to enter the castle after going to London. Snapping her gaze to Snape's face, she blinked in astonishment to see him grinning like a kid at her shock. Smug glee was etched in every line of his face, and she gasped, "Wha-a-at? Severus?"

One eyebrow bobbed up and down as he chuckled wickedly. "Surprise! You're the first to know. Well, besides Dumbledore of course..."

Baffled, Hermione cut in, "But, how?"

Snape sniffed, tossing his head airily. "It was all very complex, I assure you. That's why I had to meet Dumbledore before rehearsal last time. He told me what he had planned, and I had to stay after for him to cast it." He paused, once again grinning in delight. Hermione's heart fluttered at his radiant expression, making him look years younger. "We'll be popping up there in a moment, but I wanted to surprise you first." At that, his rampant grin softened, and his smile became shyer.

Hermione smiled back. Grasping all the ramifications, she let out a little laugh, squeezing his arms gently. "Oh, how wonderful for you! I can't wait to see you flitting about as the Phantom."

Snape nodded. "Indeed." He took a deep breath and exhaled heavily, obviously composing himself for rehearsal. "Now, if you're ready?"

Hermione beamed at him and nodded sharply, gripping his elbows again. Snape murmured, "Now," and they Disapparated again.

They appeared at the back of the house, cloaked in the shadows. Snape quickly let go of Hermione, but with a subtle parting caress, and Hermione stepped forward to join the other students who were trooping down the aisle toward the stage. Snape stayed in the shadows, watching in amusement as she startled Neville by bouncing up to him.

Brow furrowed, Neville queried, "Hermione? Where did you come from? You weren't outside with the rest of us..."

Tilting her chin up loftily, she said, "Oh, I was assisting Professor Snape as usual, and we just Apparated up here."

His mouth fell open in disbelief, and his head swivelled around, searching for the Potions Master. In a somewhat strangled hiss, he said, "Are you serious? How?"

Hermione cut an amused glance at him and merely said, "I'm sure Dumbledore will explain. Come on, let's get up there." With that, she surged ahead onto the stage with the rest of the milling cast, leaving Neville to gape after her in consternation. Snape stepped forward from the back, smirking to himself. As Dumbledore searched the house for him, Snape realized that he had forgotten his Phantom mask in his single-mindedness.

Dumbledore saw him and raised a hand to him, gesturing for him to join the cast. But Snape stayed where he was, calling, "I do apologize, Headmaster. It seems I have forgotten my mask. I shall go fetch it right now."

Dumbledore waved his hand and nodded, turning back to the students who needed the singing spell. Snape concentrated for a moment and Apparated to his quarters, where he took a second to adjust the erection still tightening his trousers. At his slight touch, a jolt of pleasure shot through him, and he immediately made a rash decision.

Snatching up his mask from the table by the door, he strode into his room, flinging himself onto the bed. Long fingers made short work of opening his robes and unfastening his trousers, pulling his hard cock from within. Sighing in relief, he gripped it firmly, uttering a throaty groan at the tingles of pleasure spreading from his cock throughout his body. Stroking quickly, he turned his formidable focus on the task at hand, bringing himself to a satisfying orgasm in a few short moments. Heaving a contented sigh, he cast cleansing charms on his trousers, cock, and hand, briskly tucking himself away and straightening his clothes as he picked up his mask and stood.

Passing through the bathroom to look in the mirror, he directed a wry snort at his reflection before settling himself and Apparating back up to the Hall. He arrived back in the spot he had so recently vacated, and saw the cast congregated on the stage. Eyes narrowing from the calculating grin that spread his lips, he Disapparated to join them.

Startled cries echoed in the theatre as Snape suddenly appeared in the midst of the crowd, and several of the students near him staggered away from his surprising materialization. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and smirked, casting a superior glance over the students. Everyone was goggling at him, except for Hermione and Dumbledore. Dumbledore burst out laughing, causing the students' gazes to whip from Snape to him.

"Well done, Severus. Pleased with yourself, are you?" Dumbledore grinned at Snape, arching an eyebrow in subtle reprimand.

Snape didn't bother to reply, but simply offered a mocking bow, smug smirk still firmly in place.

Draco burst out, in a rather accusatory tone, "How'd you do that?" Belatedly, and at the chiding glance from every teacher present, he tacked on a sulky, "Sir."

Snape sniffed and straightened, affecting boredom. "I Apparated, of course."

Still incensed, Draco continued, "But... you can't Apparate within Hogwarts! Everyone knows that." He whirled and scowled at the faint snort from Hermione. Hermione composed her expression into one of polite interest and refused to meet his glare.

Dumbledore answered him. "You are correct, Mr. Malfoy. However, we headmasters have certain information bequeathed to us that allowed me to adjust the school wards to let Professor Snape Apparate within the castle. It's really the best way we have for him to perform the Phantom role, as I'm sure you'll see tonight as we go on. Now, I'd like to take a moment to tell you that Professor Snape is the only one who can Apparate. I did not lift the wards from the Hall, as was done for your Apparition classes. Do not waste your time trying to Apparate; you will not succeed." With that parting admonition, he swept a stern gaze over the assembled students and said, "Now then, we are running through the whole of Act One, and through the Masquerade. If everyone would please take their places..."

There was a scrum as students all at once began dashing for their places. Snape stood where he was, watching the melee, then cocked one corner of his mouth up and disappeared. Even though it wasn't a surprise anymore, several students voiced startled cries at the sight.

In the wing, Ginny pulled Hermione by the elbow to a corner and hissed, "Merlin's balls!" Ignoring the slightly scandalized look Hermione shot her, she continued, "Did you know he could do that? That's incredible!"

Hermione grinned. "I didn't know until he surprised me tonight. That's how we got here. Wild, huh?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed. Envy oozing out of every pore, she breathed, "Man, I wish I could do that. Lucky bastard." At Hermione's smack on the arm, she blinked and said, "Oh, sorry. You know what I meant..."

Hermione snorted and they pushed forward again, peering out from the wing to watch the scene unfolding. As the music changed, and Dumbledore started shifting the sets, they raced out to take their places onstage for the next scene.

Snape was watching from his vantage point in Box Five. Although he had always felt a surge of energy when he was performing, tonight, riding on his high of excitement from surprising Hermione and the rest of the cast, he felt buoyant, and he eagerly anticipated his cue. Unknown to him, a delighted smile kept creeping across his face, evidence of the sheer fun he was having.

As the rehearsal progressed, Snape leant forward, crossing his arms on the ledge of the Box, resting his chin on his forearms, engrossed in the drama and the music playing out before him. When Hermione took the stage to sing "Think of Me," he heard footsteps approaching. Bolting upright, a scowl marred his peaceful expression, and he whipped around to glare at whomever was intruding.

Harry appeared in the doorway, coming to an abrupt halt when he spied Snape frowning at him. Lower jaw pushing forward mulishly, he growled, "Excuse me, Professor, but you're in my spot."

Snape narrowed his eyes. Although the words were passably courteous, insolence dripped from Harry's voice. Shooting to his feet and towering over the younger man, Snape sneered and said, "Watch your tone, Potter." And, with a final twitch of disdain, Snape spun and Disapparated. Harry blinked, disconcerted. Huffing in annoyance and resentment, he flung himself into the seat to await his cue.

Snape emerged at the back of the house again, pushing back his irritation with The-Boy-Who-Won't-Go-Away, and losing himself in the clear tones of Hermione's voice. Finally, the dressing room set wafted onstage, and Hermione faded away from the performance area. Snape cast Sonorus and intoned, "Bravi, bravi, bravissimi." He smiled fondly at the rapt look on Hermione's face as she looked around for the source of the voice.

When Harry arrived for "Little Lotte," Snape decided it was time to move to his next spot. Closing his eyes, he Apparated to the area behind the magic mirror, glancing quickly around at the students in the wings as they goggled at his abrupt materialization. Flashing a wicked grin, he turned back to the mirror, excitement coiling in his gut as he let himself be pulled into the role. As Harry exited the stage and the music changed ominously, Snape took a deep breath and burst forth with his song. He hadn't ended the Sonorus spell, and his voice thundered through the space, instantly drawing everyone's attention.

Hermione turned to the mirror, watching in fascination as Dumbledore's spells caused it to de-solidify and Snape's figure became clearer through the shadows within it. When Snape's hand stretched through it toward her, she eagerly gripped it and stepped through the distortion of light, following Snape as he led them through the journey to the Labyrinth Underground.

As they sang their duet, they played off each other, a synergy flowing off them in nearly palpable waves. The rest of the cast, while staring in awe, all seemed to set their teeth in determination to measure up to the sheer magnetic power that their two leads were showing. No one wanted to pale in comparison.

Snape and Hermione smoothly flowed through "Music of the Night" and "Stranger Than You Dreamt It." Even now, some of the students shuddered at Snape's ferocity when he rounded on Hermione in fury for taking his mask.

Moving through to the next scene, the sets slipped away again, and Terry and the girls entered. Snape stood with Hermione in the wing, watching for their cue. Never taking his gaze off the scene, he muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Hermione, "We'll be Apparating out there, so hold tight." She nodded and squeezed his arm in understanding. They were poised and ready to go when, out of nowhere, Dumbledore stopped the music and cried out, "Stop!" Onstage, all of the students froze, bewildered. Snape frowned, irritated at the interruption. Peering out from the wing, he saw the headmaster charging up onto the stage.

Bustling to the centre of the stage, Dumbledore roared, "Severus!"

Snape's head jerked back as if struck, and he turned a surprised and disconcerted gaze toward Hermione, who simply shrugged and blinked at him. Hastily stepping out to join Dumbledore, Snape queried, "Is something wrong?"

Dumbledore turned a beatific grin on the confused man and crowed, "On the contrary! Something is most definitely right!"

Snape glanced around at the puzzled faces, slightly relieved that even Minerva looked as perplexed as the rest of them, and said, "What do you mean?"

Dumbledore dropped to the ground, hunkering down and running his hand lightly across the floor. "Remember what I said before about not knowing what to do about the trap door?" Snape nodded quickly. Patting the floor, Dumbledore said, "Now that you can Apparate, I can put the trap door in, and you can Apparate to inside it and climb out like you're supposed to! Let me transfigure it now..." With that, he dragged his wand along the stage, drawing a large square. When he was done, he tapped the area within the outline, and it transformed into a trap door, complete with hinges on one end and a carved-out groove for a handle. Beaming triumphantly, he gripped the handle and lifted, opening the trap door to reveal... more solid floor.

Blinking, Dumbledore's grin faltered a moment before he gathered himself and coughed lightly. Repositioning himself, he aimed his wand into the blank section of floor and muttered, drawing a pattern in the air. On cue, the solid mass disappeared, leaving a large open space. Dumbledore sank onto the stage, hanging his feet in the opening, faintly humming to himself as he fashioned a staircase and adjusted the size of the space. Then, beckoning for Snape to follow, he descended, the tip of his hat eventually sinking below the surface of the stage. Snape followed, lighting his wand to inspect the area. As he spun in place, Dumbledore was adding finishing touches: smoothing the floor and walls, expanding the space, and adding some lanterns for light.

Backing against the stairs, Dumbledore looked at Snape and said, "You can Apparate here, then climb up. This should be adequate for our purposes. Would you please climb out and then Apparate back in, just to practice?" Snape inclined his head and ascended the short staircase, emerging to see a circle of curious faces peering at him. Flicking a glance at Hermione, he strode back to the wing and stopped. Visualizing the space he had just left, he Apparated back into it.

Dumbledore clapped his hands, voicing a little cheer. "Perfect! Now, let's go back and continue where we left off." With that, he beamed at Snape and climbed out to take his place in the house again. Snape rejoined the cast onstage, closing the trap door behind him. He beckoned to Hermione to join him as he strode back to the wing.

Gazing up at him curiously, she said, "What are we to do, Professor?"

"Instead of Apparating to that spot onstage, we are going to be appearing in the space underneath, then climbing out. Regardless, we'll still be Apparating. Are you quite ready, Miss Granger?"

Hermione gave an emphatic nod. "Of course, sir." Snape nodded and looked back out to see what was happening. Dumbledore was back in the house, resetting the music. Terry and the girls took their places again, and the scene began.

Gripping Hermione firmly, Snape snapped a glance at her in warning, then Apparated them to the space beneath the trap door. When they arrived, Hermione gasped at the sensation again, then turned eagerly to inspect the area that had been created right before her eyes. Her inspection was cut short when Snape spun her around, surprising her with a searing kiss. Her stunned cry was muffled by his lips, and she lost her balance as strong arms wrapped around her, pressing her against him. She scrabbled against his shoulders, trying to regain her balance, and he growled low in his throat. A tingle shot through her, ending in the slick pool still dampening her knickers.

A moment later, he released her, flashing her a grin that was both feral and playful. As he straightened away from her, he gestured upwards, indicating that they had to listen for their cue. Hermione glared at him, shaking her head in disbelief at his actions. Above them, Terry was coming to the end of his lines, and Snape began their ascent, clasping Hermione's hand and pulling her along in his wake.

When they emerged, the girls scattered, and Snape curled Hermione protectively in his arms as he led her offstage, glaring at Terry as he went. Once again in the wing, Snape gave Hermione's shoulder a quick squeeze as he released her, and she primly stepped a proper distance away from him. Onstage, the sets were shifting, leading into "Notes." Snape nodded gravely to Hermione, swept a stern gaze over the rest of the students in the vicinity, and Disapparated again. Hermione pretended not to notice the sharp glances everyone cast at her after Snape was gone. Instead, she focused on Neville, who was performing with gusto as the "Notes" scene progressed.

Luna sidled up beside Hermione. "Wow. Neville's really pulling out all the stops tonight."

Hermione spared a glance at the blonde. "What do you mean?"

Luna tilted her head toward the performers, which included Ron and Harry at this point. "He's really into it. Look at them. They all are." She paused, and both girls watched the others performing. Luna turned a dreamy smile on Hermione. "It looks like you and Professor Snape have really upped the ante. And the rest of us had better join you, or we're gonna' look dreadful." Then, Luna winked and chucked Hermione's shoulder. "Of course, that must have been what you and the professor have been talking about so much: getting us all to increase our effort. Well, I must say: well done!"

Hermione's eyes went wide in shock, mind racing with the knowledge that Luna had noticed her interactions with Snape so much. Feeling icy sweat prickling her skin, she swallowed nervously, nodding with as much nonchalance as she could muster. "Oh, thanks. Yeah, that... Well, Professor Snape wants to win this competition as much as Dumbledore, so he was very adamant that we give every rehearsal our full attention and effort. I'm just glad that it's rubbing off on everyone else." With that, she gave Luna a wan smile and turned quickly back to watch the performance again. Fortunately, Luna didn't say anything else.

"Notes" ended with Snape's magnified voice ringing through the space, and everyone scrambled for their places as the sets changed again. Hermione and Pansy jumped onto the bed as it was sliding onstage, taking care to keep the curtains of the bed closed. When the overture was finished, Hermione heard Harry, Ron, and Neville projecting from their spots in the Boxes. The scene started, and Hermione took a deep breath, turning politely to Pansy and whispering, "Ready? Give me your arm." Pansy sneered, but held her tongue, stretching her arm toward Hermione as if she were offering herself to a chopping block. Rolling her eyes, Hermione took Pansy's hand and got in position for the curtains to open.

Snape watched from the back of the house, ready for his cue. Well-practiced from decades of use, Snape's voice was menacing as he demanded, "Did I not instruct that Box Five was to be kept empty?" When Hermione reacted, and Pansy insulted her, he allowed a sinister smile to curl his lips and alter his tone as he said, "A toad, Madame? Perhaps it is you who are the toad..."

To his surprise and no little pleasure, Pansy rose to the occasion and croaked believably, acting with great presence as she performed her breakdown. Pride in a member of his House bubbled up, even as he chastised himself for not working more with Pansy before now. Just because she had done so well now did not excuse his lack of attending to his duties as Head of House. Returning his attention to laughing maniacally, he trailed off as Ron and Neville arrived onstage and Draco escorted Pansy into the wing. When they exited, and the ballet girls came out, Snape Apparated to the catwalk above the stage, noting that Terry was already in his place, securing the cable around him for his plunge.

Popping from one light to another, Snape cast threatening shadows along the backdrops onstage. Peering down, he saw Dumbledore in the wing looking up at Terry. At his decisive nod, Terry stepped off the catwalk, allowing Dumbledore to control his drop. While pandemonium reigned below him, Snape watched the sets changing, focusing on the statue behind which he was to hide. Of course, he didn't really have to be there during the whole scene, since he could just show up when he needed to for his cue, but he decided that it would be better for his characterization to be there to witness everything just as the Phantom would.

As soon as the set was complete as the roof of the opera house, he hunkered down and Apparated to the shadow behind the statue while Harry and Hermione were singing. They came to the end of their song, and Harry crooned, "Christine... Christine..."

Snape barely intoned, "Christine..." However, since he still had the Sonorus spell in effect, it was a very otherworldly sound. At that point, he ended the spell, simply listening to Harry and Hermione as they sang "All I Ask of You," allowing it to affect him as it would the Phantom, pulling him down into the welter of betrayal and despair and rage. By the time they had finished the scene and exited, Snape was seething with the Phantom's pain and fury.

He emerged from behind the statue, blazing hurt and anger. When he reached the end of his song, every person in the Hall was rooted to the ground, staring at him, completely in the thrall of his magnetism in the role. As he whirled around and mounted the statue for its intended flight to the top of the proscenium, Dumbledore scrambled to begin the set change, and cast members burst into frenetic action from all sides, rushing to their places as Snape's demented laughter rang out around them and the chandelier rocked. As he roared, "Go!" the chandelier hurtled toward Hermione, and she cringed, covering her face.

The chandelier crashed, and the music wound down. On the tail of the final note, Dumbledore closed the curtains with a whoosh, and Snape Apparated down from his position high above the stage. He stood at the back of the stage and watched as Dumbledore hurried up, waving for everyone to join them.

Dumbledore pointed his wand at the chandelier, sending it back to its position, calling, "Come along, everyone! We're going to forge on to the Masquerade. I know that when we perform you'll have an intermission, but I'd rather not take that much time tonight." He paused, beaming around at the cast. "I must say: you are all doing wonderfully well! Oh, but you've all raised the bar tonight. I can see that trophy in Hogwarts now..."

A ripple of laughter swept through the cast, and they all exchanged pleased grins. At Dumbledore's urging, everyone dispersed, taking their places for "Masquerade." Snape strode to the wing again, suppressing a smirk at the nervous expressions on several of the students' faces at having to dance again.

Dumbledore hurried over to Snape. "Severus, when you appear at the top of the stairs, would you go ahead and produce a bit of smoke, just for effect?"

Snape nodded sharply. "Certainly. Would you like me to do the same when I leave?"

Dumbledore snapped his fingers and said, "Yes! Do that." Then, patting Snape's arm in farewell, he spun and descended from the stage. Snape backed to the side wall, leaning against it casually, compartmentalizing the emotions that were still flowing through him from the role, tamping down the anger that still pulsed in his veins. While it wasn't really his, it was, and he consciously separated himself from the role again, watching the rehearsal as it progressed.

Dumbledore set the music box again, and called, "Ready?" At the multiple affirmatives that came his way, he beamed and announced, "Action!" The music began, and Ron and Neville came out to start the scene. After their exchange, the curtains opened and the Masquerade began.

Brows were furrowed in intense concentration all over the stage as everyone tried to remember the dancing as well as their parts in the singing. There were a few stumbles and bobbles, but overall, the quality of performance was better than the last time they had all rehearsed. Snape prepared himself to Apparate to the top of the staircase and wordlessly cast a trifling spell that would shoot smoke out of his wand.

It worked perfectly, and he descended the stairs through the haze. After miming ripping the ring from Hermione's necklace, he whirled, casting more smoke from his wand to surround him, and Disapparating again. From his new vantage point in the wing, he saw everyone looking from the smoke fading onstage to Dumbledore, who had shut the music box with a snap.

"Excellent! Simply astounding! Congratulations, all of you. You have improved immensely. There's really nothing else for me to say other than keep up the good work! Well done, and good night!" He clasped his hands over his belly, beaming at everyone, then gestured for them to head off to their rooms. Students broke from their final tableau and scurried into the house, buzzing with conversations.

Snape slowly stepped from the wing. Dumbledore saw him and waved a hand at him. "The smoke worked perfectly, Severus. Don't forget about that next time."

Snape inclined his head, slipping his Phantom mask from his face. "As you say. Good night." And, before Dumbledore could respond, Snape was gone.

He appeared in the corridor, startling the first students who had exited the Hall. They hurried away from him, but he remained where he was. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited, mask dangling from one long finger. Eventually, Hermione emerged, amidst her Gryffindor friends. As they approached him, Hermione and Ginny both offered grave nods, murmuring, "Professor." Harry kept his mouth shut and stared at the opposite wall, pretending he hadn't seen the tall man in black. Snape nodded in response. His face remained impassive, but his eyes softened as they lingered on Hermione. Her lips twitched in a faint smile as she passed him.

Snape fought the urge to turn his head and watch Hermione climbing the stairs. Stiffly staring ahead, he was finally rewarded with the sight of his Slytherins exiting. They blinked in surprise to see him waiting there, but they all greeted him politely. He nodded smoothly to them, gesturing that they should all continue down to the Slytherin quarters.

"Miss Parkinson, I have been remiss in my duties to you. But you have accomplished a great deal even without my assistance, for which I would like to offer my congratulations. Not only has your dedication garnered my approval, but I feel compelled to award ten points to Slytherin for your perseverance and talent." He ended his speech with an approving nod at Pansy, whose eyes widened and whose cheeks flushed at the praise.

"Thank you, Professor," she replied archly, visibly preening. Draco seemed torn between pride that his girlfriend had earned House points and envy that he hadn't been recognized for his effort.

Snape saw the struggle playing across the boy's pale face and moved to intercept the problem. "Mr. Malfoy, I would like to tender my appreciation for your assistance to your fellow Slytherins during these rehearsals. Thanks to you, both your and Miss Parkinson's accents are quite acceptable."

Draco straightened, a smug look crossing his face. Sniffing, he smoothly replied, "It was my pleasure, Professor. Thank you." Then, after a beat, while they were all descending the dungeon stairs, Draco added, "It must be handy to be able to Apparate, sir. Can't you cast the spell on anyone else?" He flashed what he hoped was a winning smile at Snape, who arched a disbelieving eyebrow at him.

"Mr. Malfoy, weren't you listening when the headmaster explained? He is the only one who knows the spell, and I am the only one on whom it has been cast." He frowned at Draco, sternly adding, "Pay attention, else I shall be forced to deduct points from my own House. And I daresay Miss Parkinson would not be pleased to see you squandering what she has worked so hard to earn." They had reached the foot of the stairs, and Snape paused, letting his warning sink in. Draco's grey eyes darkened and his wan cheeks coloured with humiliation at Snape's threat.

Gritting his teeth, Draco ground out, "Of course, sir." Then, he abruptly whirled, gesturing sharply at the girls. "Come on." Glancing back at Snape, they all muttered, "Good night, Professor," before charging off to the dorms.

Snape watched them walk away, pondering what he could do with himself now. Once he was alone again, his mind immediately went back to Hermione, replaying all that had transpired that evening. His body reacted again to the remembered sensations, and he idly thought, I could always pop into her room... Suppressing a shiver at the thrill that coursed through him at the illicit thought, he closed his eyes and Disapparated.

Arriving in his bedroom, he deftly undressed and made ready for bed. It would be an early night for him, but he had a lot to think about, and if he didn't settle himself now, he'd continue to consider a jaunt to Hermione's room. After his nightly ablutions, he stripped out of his lounge wear and slid between the sheets. Upon lying down, his body remembered his stolen interlude from earlier in the evening. Sensations flowed through him again, making his cock twitch.

I could go to her right now. It's not difficult.

About that! You had better be more careful, ol' chap! You're not a teenager anymore, no matter how much she may make you feel like one. If you're caught, you face much worse than expulsion. And what about Hermione? Do you want to ruin her education and reputation? You're the more seasoned, supposedly wiser adult here. You can't let your hormones and imagination run away with you. It would be madness and folly to Apparate into her room right now, and you know it!

Snape writhed in his bed, torn between wanting to follow his dangerous impulses and recognizing the truth his voice of reason offered. Scowling in the dark, jaw grinding in resentment, he heaved a huge sigh and caved. Slamming his fists against the mattress in what could only be described as petulance, he stared into the blackness and sucked his teeth.

Fine! I get it! There are too many unknown factors right now. If I'm to surprise Hermione, I need to gather as much information as I can. I must simply do a little reconnaissance...

With that, he rolled over, lips spreading into a calculating smile as he formulated his strategy to enter her room and plan his surprise visit.

********* ****************

Wednesday morning, Hermione checked her bag for the scroll of questions, intent on staying a moment after Potions class to ask another one. As she passed the notice board, she saw the new post about the next rehearsal.

"Friday January 16: block Raoul/ Giry scene and Notes

Actors required to attend: Harry, Professor McGonagall, Ron, Neville, Draco, Pansy, Hermione, Professor Snape, Ginny."

Spirits were high among the cast members, having had such a successful rehearsal the night before. All the same, those who were not required for the next rehearsal were looking forward to a Friday night off.

Hermione debated which question to pose if she got a chance, determining that her choice would likely be dictated by how much time she had available. Perhaps she should send him the list by owl, or turn it in with her homework... But, that would be so impersonal. No, better to ask them whenever she had the opportunity.

Potions class was uneventful except for the very start, at which Snape startled the class by Apparating to his desk at the front of the room instead of banging through the door as usual. Stifling the urge to either laugh or chide him, Hermione bit her lip and stared down at her textbook, wondering if anyone else would notice the mischief dancing in his eyes and the grin threatening to overtake him. Sneaking glances at the other students, she saw them nervously preparing their materials, unnerved by their normally grim professor apparently enjoying himself.

I'm sure they'll get over it. I mean, honestly, let the poor man have a chance to relax. He certainly deserves it!

Fortunately, Snape had enough respect for class time to not abuse his students by sneaking up on them through Apparition, and eventually the atmosphere went back to normal. When the period was over, he assigned the homework and tidied his desk, the students filing out into the corridor. Hermione pretended to take a while copying down the assignment and waited until everyone else was gone. As soon as the room was empty of other students, she snatched her scroll from her book bag and darted up to Snape's desk.

He looked up, carefully controlling his expression in case anyone happened to look through the open door again. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

Hermione flashed him a quick smile before saying, in a low voice, "I just wanted to ask you another question."

Snape's gaze snapped to the scroll, which he recognized as the very same one he had encountered in his quarters the night before. Closing his eyes to hide their impulse to roll in exasperation, he sighed. In a put-upon whisper, he said, "Very well. Proceed."

Hermione unrolled the scroll and quickly said, "I'm pretty sure I know what you don't like, after all the bushes you blasted at the Yule Ball fourth year, but I have no idea what you do like..." She glanced at his expression, which clearly said, "Get on with it," and hastily said, "What's your favourite flower?"

Snape's head jerked back and up, his chin pulling toward his throat, and his brow furrowed in perplexity. Blinking, he repeated, "Favourite flower?"

Hermione cast a swift glance over her shoulder at the open door and said, "Yes. Flower. I can't decide between carnation, gardenia, and plumeria. I really like the flowers that have definite, sweet scents, you know?"

Snape blinked again and muttered sardonically, "I do now..."

Hermione barrelled on, "So, what's yours? Surely there's some flower that you like."

Snape was silent for a moment, pondering, then he looked up at her and quietly said, "Lily. I like lilies."

Hermione beamed at him for a moment before asking, "How come?"

Snape's eyes suddenly seemed shadowed, and he looked down at his desk, absently tracing his fingers along a groove in the wood. "They remind me of someone... a friend of sorts."

Her smile faltered as her agile mind raced to a startling conclusion. Eyes widening, she breathed, "Oh. I see."

Snape looked up at Hermione, noting her comprehension. His eyes begged for understanding, and his voice was a strained murmur as he said, "She was all a lily is: pure, sweet, and of a rare beauty of spirit. No one deserved her fate."

Hermione felt a queer tightness in her chest. Her heart thundered in her ears as she whispered, "Did... did you love her?"

Snape shook his head instantly, ruefully snorting. Regret coloured his tone when he replied, "I never got the chance. Believe me, Hermione; we were just friends, and barely that once Potter came into the picture." His lips still twisted when he said "Potter," and Hermione realized afresh how deep the wounds went in his history with Harry's parents.

Extrapolating from this new information, suddenly Hermione understood how Snape could have such vehement reactions as he had to her with Harry, especially once he had begun having feelings for her. Once again, her simple desire to learn more about him had resulted in her opening an old wound. Would she ever be able to ask him the most innocuous of questions and not get a startlingly painful answer? Heart flooding with sympathy and love for the man before her, she gave him a watery smile and dared to reach across the desk to cover his hand.

He shot a glance at the door again and then turned his hand in her grasp to grip it firmly. He lifted wistful eyes to hers, and she barely whispered, "Still waters run deep... I love you, Severus Snape."

He gazed at her solemnly, love welling up in his eyes as he squeezed her hand in an almost painfully tight grip. "And I love you, Hermione." With a regretful sigh, he released her and slid his hand back, straightening in his chair. His voice regained some of its classroom tone as he said, "Run along. You'll be late, and we needn't invite speculation on your extended stay here."

She nodded gravely, rolling her scroll again and gathering her things. "Of course. So, Professor, I shall see you before rehearsal Friday, correct?"

Snape cleared his throat, affecting detachment in the wake of their unexpected emotional land mine. "Indeed. Until then, good day to you, Miss Granger."

Hermione crossed to the door, pausing on the threshold, hearing other students trooping down the corridor. "Good day to you, Professor." And, with a final affectionate look, she left.

Students began entering the classroom, and Snape shot to his feet, turning his back to them, trying to shake off the melancholy that assailed him. Determinedly shifting his mind away, he repeated to himself, Remember, carnations, gardenias, and plumerias. Those are the flowers she likes. File that away for future reference, ol' chap, as it may come in handy one day! Thus composed, he turned back to the new class.

*************** ***************

The next day, Snape went to breakfast early, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Hermione and her friends. He had already broken his fast when they arrived, and he remained only long enough to have some tea "with Hermione" before he departed. Briskly descending to his quarters again, he went over the details in his mind.

All Gryffindors have classes right after breakfast, but I have a planning period first thing. The house-elves are all busy cleaning up after breakfast. That leaves me plenty of time to explore her room without a chance of being interrupted.

Once he had retreated to his bedroom, he checked the time again, anxiously awaiting the start of the first class of the day. When it was time, he exhaled a long steadying breath and nervously tugged on his robes, as if to straighten them, even though they were as immaculate as always. Gripping his wand tightly, every nerve on edge, ready to react should his arrival go badly, he focused on an open area between her bureau and the foot of the bed and Disapparated.

Appearing in her room, he felt a thrill of triumph race over him, followed quickly by a jolt of apprehension at an unexpected hissing sound. Whirling, wand poised to strike, he saw a squash-faced ginger cat hissing at him from an armchair, bottle brush tail puffed out to three times its normal size. Pulse pounding, he froze, staring at the cat who was staring back at him.

Mentally railing at himself for forgetting about her blasted familiar, he fervently hoped that the cat wouldn't raise the hue and cry at his presence. Seconds ticked by in agonizing slowness, until finally the cat's tail returned to normal size, and his flattened ears perked up again. Snape relaxed his battle-ready posture a fraction and warily eyed the animal as it leapt lightly from the chair, padding over to him.

Crookshanks crossed to Snape, peering up at him for a moment, as if sizing him up; then he circled his feet, sniffing at his ankles. After several moments of this, during which Snape felt like he was being judged, Crookshanks sat back on his haunches and looked up at Snape, voicing a rusty yowl.

Snape gazed down at the animal, bewildered. Relief washed over him, since it seemed obvious that the cat wasn't going to attack. Still wary, he didn't move, and Crookshanks meowed again, this time leaning forward and butting his head against Snape's shin.

The errant thought that perhaps the cat had done that too many times, and that's how its face ended up so smushed wafted through his head, but he tentatively leant down, reaching toward him, still ready to snatch his hand back if the animal swiped.

Crookshanks was rubbing his face against Snape's leg, pressing so hard that his mouth was stretched as he ground his cheeks against the black fabric. Snape gingerly touched the crown of Crookshanks's head, gently raking his fingertips through the fluffy fur. The cat arched into Snape's hand, butting his head into his palm and practically throwing his body against Snape's shin. Slowly, Snape became aware of a rumbling sound, and he realized that Crookshanks was purring. He was idly amused to note that if he had shifted his leg back, the cat would surely have fallen over, so forcefully was he pressing against him. Finally relaxing, Snape scrubbed the animal with more confidence, and was rewarded with more vehement purrs.

A faint smile appeared on his face, and he murmured, "Good morning to you. I'm sorry I don't know your name, little one."

Crookshanks lifted his head and eyed Snape reproachfully, but he stopped writhing on Snape's leg and crossed to a double bowl in the corner. Pausing to look over his shoulder at the man, he pointedly twitched his whiskers at the bowl. Snape's brows rose in surprise at the obvious intelligence that the beast displayed, and he strode over to peer down at the name painted on the bowl.

"Ah. Crookshanks." Crookshanks meowed at him in response, and Snape smiled. "Well, you're a bright one, aren't you?"

The cat sneezed and began winding around Snape's feet again, purring continuously. Snape chuckled. "Indeed. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Crookshanks. I'm a friend of your mistress." Crookshanks gave a little burble and marched off, jumping onto the bed and pawing at the bedspread where it covered the pillow. Snape followed him and queried, "Is there something under there that you want?"

Crookshanks sat back on his haunches and meowed, staring up at Snape. Then, he deliberately pawed at the covers again. When Snape reached out to lift the covers from the pillow, Crookshanks rubbed his head against Snape's arm, purring again. Snape uncovered the pillow, intrigued by the cat's actions, and Crookshanks buried his face under the pillow, rooting around until he backed out with something in his teeth. Walking backwards, he dragged more of the fabric into sight, and Snape recognized the shirt he had worn to the cast party.

Eyes widening in shock, he burst out, "My shirt!" He straightened in indignation that Hermione had made off with his clothing and said, "That little minx! And to think that I had thought the house-elves had lost it." He frowned, abruptly noting that Crookshanks was kneading the shirt, purring contentedly. He stared at the cat on his shirt, images of Hermione wearing it flashing through his mind. Shaking his head, he muttered, "She's a clever witch, indeed." Crookshanks meowed. Looking sharply at the beast, he snorted at the smug expression on his face.

Smirking in amusement, Snape said, "Oh, so you agree, do you?" In response, Crookshanks stretched languorously and flopped to one side, writhing onto his back and eyeing Snape upside-down. The narcissistic entreaty was unmistakable. Chuckling at the animal's antics, Snape perched on the edge of the bed, reached out and scratched under his chin, scrubbing his bared belly. He could feel the vibrations of Crookshanks's purring under his fingers. Sarcasm dripping, he said, "Mercy, you do have such a rough life, don't you? Indeed. It's obvious how neglected and abused you are. Terrible thing, really, how you suffer..." Crookshanks didn't move; only his tail flipped from one side to the other in lazy arcs, his whole demeanour one of utter bliss.

Smiling indulgently, calmed by the peaceful feeling of petting a happy feline, Snape turned his attention to the room, gazing about. He saw her nightstand by the bed, a lamp almost blocked by the tall stack of reading material. Her desk was equally cluttered with books and parchment and bottles of ink. Quills stuck up from an empty ink bottle, listing haphazardly to one side. The bookcases along the walls were full to bursting, much like his often became before he periodically took the time to arrange and magically expand them. Her bureau had toiletries along the top, and her closet door wasn't shut tight. A clothes hamper stood by the door to her bathroom, a stray sock dangling over the edge. The armchair that Crookshanks had so recently occupied bore tell-tale signs of the animal's preference, being rather coated with cat hair. Making a mental note to avoid sitting in that chair unless he had cast a cleansing spell on it, his gaze returned to the multitude of books and magazines stacked on her nightstand and on the floor by her bed.

On closer inspection, he was intrigued to see the glossy cover of a wizarding periodical, seeing a partially obscured wizard moving in the picture. Taking careful note of how everything was arranged...so he could replace it all exactly...he lifted the books lying atop it and nearly choked in astonishment.

A nearly nude wizard waved cheekily at him, barely maintaining decency by covering himself with a scanty towel. Snape's brows shot to his hairline and his eyes nearly bugged out. Playwitch! Magazine for the Modern Witch! Bloody hell!

Suddenly, he was distracted by a swat on his now-still hand. Crookshanks had lost patience with his lack of scrubbing and had swiped at him, reminding Snape of the cat's presence. Snape jerked his hand away, too stunned by what he had found to bother with the animal. Crookshanks, sensing that he was being ignored, got to his feet and regally stalked off, tail stiff in high dudgeon. Giving up on the new human for the moment, he returned to his position on the armchair, curling into a ball and dozing off.

Snape quickly thumbed through the magazine, blinking rapidly at the succession of nude or scantily clad men in provocative poses. To spite him, his cheeks warmed in embarrassment. Swallowing against a dry throat, he slammed the covers closed, frantically looking around at her other books. Were they all like this? A quick scan sent a wave of relief over him. No.

Exhaling slowly, he peered more closely at the stacks by her bed, feeling his face burn again at the sight of several more books of erotica or plain ol'...let's not mince words here...porn. Looking at the book he had lifted to uncover the magazine, he saw that it, at least, was a more scholarly publication, but it too was all about sex. Carefully setting it back in place, he mentally shook himself.

Oh, give over. It's not like you haven't seen such things before. You've had your own collection. If she's curious, that's normal! How else is she expected to learn, especially if she's not going to experiment with anyone because of you?

A sharp, white-hot flash of jealousy burned in his chest at the thought of Hermione "experimenting" with anyone besides himself.

Really, she reads about everything else, why not this too? She's obviously not completely ignorant in this arena, so why are you so bothered?

He rose and stepped back from the bed, then realized he needed to put it back the way it was. Neatly smoothing the bedspread over the pillow after tucking his shirt under it, his wicked streak flashed up images of Hermione in bed reading about sex, looking at those naked models, and he felt his trousers get tight.

I wonder if she gets aroused by them? Does she like the way they look better than the way I look? What kinds of fantasies are these things feeding her, and how can I be sure I can measure up to them?

Giving the room a quick once-over, checking that he wasn't leaving any clue behind that he had been there, he shot one last apprehensive look at the pile of erotica and frowned.

I'll just have to figure out a way to find out if she's been reading these things a lot, and what kind of effect they've had on her.

He focused on his own rooms again, Disapparating. Crookshanks opened one eye drowsily, and, seeing that the new human was gone, yawned and went back to sleep. There wasn't anything to worry about anyway: that was the human whose scent was on the shirt under his mistress' pillow. Of course, Kneazles are good judges of character, and that man just oozed trustworthiness to Crookshanks. Besides, he gave good skritches, and anyone with long, strong fingers like that was okay in his book.