The Panty Thief Part One

Chapter 5

The Panty Thief. Part one

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Hermione was still angry when she reached her rooms on the second floor after having gone all the way to the sixth floor before remembering that she no longer stayed in Gryffindor tower. She tossed the brown parcel on her settee as she began to pace her quarters. How dare he! It took several trips around her quarters before Hermione's blood finally cooled enough for her to think clearly. She plopped down, grabbing Dumbledore's gift and tore into the brown paper, revealing the mysterious book, which she promptly dropped at her feet as realization dawned upon her.

How could I have been so foolish? she berated herself. Dumbledore had been right to warn her. It was so easy to over look the facts in the face of everything that she knew Professor Snape had done or in this case would do. It was so easy to let her guilt cloud her reason, so easy to forget who he was...

Severus Snape was a Death Eater who had gone turn-coat because of Lily Evans. Nothing else, as far as Hermione knew, had caused his change of heart: not because he had changed his ways, or because he thought what Voldemort was doing was wrong. It had all been for Lily. He hadn't even cared if the Dark Lord killed the defenceless baby Harry, only that he spared Lily. He hadn't. Lily had died for her baby as any loving mother would have done, and the Dark Lord was gone, at least for the moment. Hermione wondered how recently those events had occurred. One year ago, perhaps two?

Dumbledore had trusted Professor Snape during the war. He had trusted him with Hogwarts and the students within, but he did not trust Professor Snape with her. It gave Hermione a feeling of misgiving.

I should be avoiding everyone... I shouldn't even be here, she reminded herself, while picking the book up from beside her feet. Dumbledore is right, more so than even he knows. I need to know this, I must protect the future. And with that thought in mind, she settled herself in to study the night away, even though she was already a little drowsy. If there was one thing Hermione was best at, books were it.

It was well into the night when Professor Snape came storming into Hermione's chamber, angrier than a wet kneazle, yelling at her and berating her as he took on his Professor role and stalked around her like a vulture would a carcass.

Hermione stared wide eyed, clutching a pillow to her chest, attempting to shield her heart from his verbal attack. He told her she was insufferable, pathetic, weak and that, most of all, she was undeserving. He added that she didn't belong in the magical world, that she was a poor excuse for a witch. He even went so far as to accuse her of letting him die, of watching him die.

"My death is on your hands!" he snarled at her, spit flying from his mouth with each word as he loomed over her. Hermione clutched the maroon pillow closer, not even daring to wipe his saliva from her cheek.

"Y- you're hurt," Hermione stammered taking control of her limbs and reaching for him, as if her touch would make the bleeding from the two puncture wounds on his neck stop. It didn't.

The moment Hermione opened her arms to him, Severus collapsed on her. Whether of his own accord or from the blood loss, making it impossible for him to stand, she didn't know, but she held him all the same. She cradled him even though his anger was as hot as his blood that was quickly soaking through her clothes and staining her flesh.

"You let me die," he accused. She squeezed him tighter, wishing he would hug her back. His limbs, like the rest of his body, were just dead weight pressing down on her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Her apology was more like a plea.

"I'm still dead..." he countered.

No, you're not. The thought was a slap of awareness, and she was startled awake to the sound of someone pounding on her door.

Hermione had fallen asleep on her settee, the book still lay open in her lap. Looking out her window, she could tell that it was early morning, very early. In about an hour, the sun would break over the forest, making it a very obscene hour for someone to be knocking on her door so insistently. In the week that Hermione had been living at Hogwarts, she had not had one visitor to her quarters other than house-elves, and they were mostly quiet and would never pound on her door.

Setting the book down beside her, she hurried to the door but stalled with her fingers lightly touching the handle. What if the Aurors have come for me? she fretted. It seemed unlikely; Dumbledore wouldn't allow them to disturb one of his faculty members, not at this hour, not without warning.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

Hermione jumped back as the door shook from the violence of its assailant. She reasoned with herself that jumping out of the window was not an option and opened the door.

She screamed.

It wasn't a loud blood curdling scream, not even close, but loud enough to echo down the hall. Severus, who was as angry as he had been in her dream, recoiled in shock from her reaction but, just as quickly recovered, stepping into her quarters. He was on her before she had even finished her scream. Moving behind her, Severus covered her mouth with his hand to silence her, kicked the door shut and pinned her arms to her sides with his free arm, dragging her further into her room.

Dumbledore was right, and he tried to warn me. He's a Death Eater! Hermione started kicking and struggling with everything she had, but it was futile as her legs seemed to hit nothing but air. She managed to hit his chin with the back of her head; however, that hurt her much more than him. In response to her struggles, Severus pulled her tightly against his chest, almost painfully so.

"Stop it this instant, you insufferable chit!" he commanded.

She didn't stop. She tried to bite his hand, and Severus growled in her ear. Pulling his hand away from her mouth, he spun her around to face him, gripping her upper arms roughly.

"Explain yourself this instant," he snarled, baring his crooked teeth at her.

"Me?" Her eyes flared in righteous indignation. "Let go of me! Do you have any idea what time it is?" Hermione tried kicking him again but he pushed her back before her leg could hit its mark. She stumbled and caught herself on the settee's arm, brandishing her wand before she had completely regained her balance. She pointed it at him as he levelled his own wand at her chest.

"Do you have any idea how much time you've taken from me?" Severus bellowed.

The stinging hex died in Hermione's throat and she almost dropped her wand. Oh god! He knows...

"You have no right! No reason to enter my personal lab, to disturb my work!" he stalked up close to her, pinning her to the side of the settee so that her only escape would be to fall back onto the cushions. His physical presence and raw anger were more intense than Hermione had ever witnessed and were more than enough to frighten her into attacking. But Hermione was too relieved to notice the danger. He's still upset over that, she sighed. The feelings of dread lightened significantly but did not dissipate. He didn't have any idea about her true crime against him. Stealing time was a dramatic understatement of what she had taken from him, at least in her mind.

"And then!" he continued raging at her. "You dare to enter my chambers! To... to tuck me in like I'm some pitiful fist year!"

As in her dream, droplets of spit flew from his mouth and onto her face only this time she didn't remain unmoved. Hermione grabbed fistfuls of his robe as if her much slighter form had any chance of shaking him.

"I did no such thing!' she defended herself. "You're the one who barged into my room... in the middle of the night, no less!"

Hermione attempted to push him away from her, but Severus pushed back causing them both to fall over the arm of the settee. They hit the cushions first before rolling to the floor with a hard thud. Hermione's knees landed on Severus's chest, forcing the air from his lungs, and her feet were dangerously close to his groin.

He wanted to retaliate verbally, say something so completely mean and nasty that it would make her cry. However, from his experiences so far with this nameless witch, it was clear that she was more prone to violence than tears. Considering how easy it would be for her to kick him in an area in which he definitely did not want to be kicked, he refrained and held his tongue in check. Settling for just glaring at her while trying to breath with her entire weight on his chest, Severus could not have any idea just how many times his harsh words would make her cry. As it was, she was older now, and he was younger in this impossible situation that was pushing Hermione to the edge of patience.

At the moment she was almost too frustrated to have any room left for guilt, almost. She shifted her weight off him, seating herself crisscross on the floor, her stare downcast, watching his chest rise and fall as he took in big gulps of air. There was a dull pain in his abdomen, and he wondered whether the little slip had bruised his ribs.

As both of their anger dissipated, they realized how ridiculous it was that they were on the floor after having physically attacked each other. The silence became palpable as they both refused to look at the other one.

Hermione, being the more verbal of the two, broke the silence. "Do you always treat the new professors like this?"

It was not a question that required an answer. Severus felt ashamed of himself. He always had a hard time controlling his temper and it was always more difficult during the summer when he felt that his life was owned by the Ministry. As much as he hated teaching Potions to dunderheads, which was for Dumbledore and everything for Dumbledore was for her. He could stand it for her, but not for the Ministry. He hated feeling like their slave.

His anger made him too obvious, and, as much as he distrusted this strange witch, he knew he had to be discreet about it. He would follow her, watch her and wait until he knew for certain what she was up to. His gut told him that she was most certainly up to something, and he suspected Dumbledore was well aware. He had told him how he had seen her run from St. Mungo's.

Confronting her had been a mistake, and now Severus needed to find a way to remedy this situation, make sure that she wouldn't mention it to Dumbledore. Dumbledore would try to stop him, try to keep him busy, to distract him. But Severus would not be put off course.

Glancing to his left, he saw the book that Dumbledore had given Hermione lying on the floor after having fallen off the settee along with both of them.

"What are you doing with this?" he questioned her, picking the fallen book up.

"Reading it," Hermione told him, reaching for her book.

Severus pulled himself into a sitting position, hissing through his teeth from the pain in his ribs. He held the thick tome away from her.

"Why?" He narrowed her eyes at her. So she is hiding something.

"Because Dumbledore told me to. Now give it back," Hermione demanded, reaching out for it again.

Severus stood abruptly, ignoring the slight pain the movement caused. "Is he teaching you?"

Hermione was confused that he was suddenly angry again. "No, he can't... he wants me to learn from the book."

She stood and this time tried to forcefully grab her book from him, but he held it over his head and had the audacity to laugh at her. He reminded Hermione of a school-yard bully from her childhood. Despite the similar situation, Hermione decided not to resort to violence and refrained from kicking Severus in the shins. She had never heard him laugh before. He had a mean laugh.

"You can't learn this from a book," he told her with a mocking smile. She thought he had a mean smile as well.

"I beg to differ." She glared at him.

"Care to test what you've learned so far?" he sneered pointing his wand at her face. "I could teach you."

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Author's notes: I was hoping to post part one and part two as one long chapter but I sadly never heard back from my beta on part two, so for the sake of posting something before Christmas, I give you part one. I'm not sure when part two will be posted, as I am still looking for a new beta.