Hogwarts Online

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DISCLAIMER: i own nothing; standard disclaimers apply.

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The next week passed much as it had before, except for some changes that occurred later in the evenings, after they left the lab. They took to having tea in front of the fireplace just talking or reading. Some nights they would watch a movie.

Hermione had introduced Snape to her DVD collection and he became fascinated with movies. She told him about the cinema, and popcorn, and soda pop and about how you can see movies like this on a screen that spans the length of a stage, like a larger than life play. Snape wondered if he asked, if she would take him to the cinema. Perhaps he could research it on the internet and take her out, like a real date.

Since the morning that they shared those kisses, the way they felt around each other changed. It was both more relaxed and more charged with the tension of their attraction. Snape had thought about earlier that night, as they had sat on the couch in front of the fire with their tea, reading. He remembered taking a peek over his book and looking at Hermione – with her reading glasses on and her hair failing to behave and stay in its’ clip – he realized how easily he could become content with the scene laid out before him. He yearned to have her lay in his lap so he could stroke her hair as he read his book.

Now, as he set out his nightclothes before his shower, he wondered when, and if, he should do anything about it… this; whatever this is. Turning on the water and preparing the temperature to his liking, he wondered how much she really felt for him. He read her journal entry on her blog, and it was fairly definitive in its statement. Getting in the shower, he wondered how much of what she feels for him isn’t just loneliness. Soaping up his body, he wondered if any man who had come here to work with her and live with her as he had wouldn’t have had won some affection of hers.

Snape snorted at that thought. Lathering up his hair, he realized that if that were the case for her, then what was his excuse? He could admit to himself that he was a lonely man, craving something; what? Friendship? Companionship? He enjoys her company. She is smart, brilliant even, she enjoys many of the same things he did, she appears to have an affinity for black, and she is kind and giving with a heart of gold. Not to mention, beautiful. No, he wouldn’t have fallen for any woman he had come to stay with just out of loneliness, and he knew, deep down, that she wouldn’t just toss her affections about lightly.

After rinsing off his hair, he turned the water off and grabbed a towel and began drying himself off. Muttering a quick charm to clear the steam from the mirror, he took a moment to appraise what he saw. He was still pale, but not so sickly sallow as he used to be. His teeth were still crooked, but not yellow anymore. His hair still liked to hang limply, but it didn’t clump together and get greasy as it used to. An had had been told that his eyes were intense.

Intense probably meant scary. His nose was still too large for his face, with a crook at the bridge from being broken too many times. He was still relatively unpleasant and solitary. And he was probably too thin, he thought as he fit the towel around his waist. Sighing with resignation, he wondered why Hermione did harbor whatever feelings she had for him. He wasn’t a good looking man and even with his lack of necessity for the nastiness he used to spew, he still couldn’t win the “it’s the personality that counts” contest.

Grabbing his toothbrush, he slathered on some toothpaste and began brushing his teeth. There was no need to wonder ‘why’ when he couldn’t think of a possible answer. Programming may be logical, but why anyone would like him wasn’t. Continuing in this thought process was an exercise in futility. Spitting and rinsing, he cast a quick drying charm on his hair and went back to the bedroom to change into his pajamas.

Pulling on his black drawstring pants, he realized that he wasn’t going to get any rest right away. Maybe working on the computer for a while would clear his head. He wondered idly what would happen if he typed Neville Longbottom into Google, and had to keep himself from laughing out loud. He might just be losing his mind.

Grabbing his robe and throwing it on, he left his room and headed to the office.

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Hermione stepped out of the shower and grabbed her favorite towel and wrapped herself in it. The last week was both heaven and hell for her. Nothing else had happened since that morning, but she noticed the little touches that passed between them, usually when they were working. He’d stand a little closer to her when looking over her shoulder at some crucial point in a test on an ingredient, or he would put his hand on her wrist as they stood side by side holding their breaths while they waited for an expected reaction that would indicate success.

Or like tonight, when they were sitting in front of the fireplace with their tea, reading their books. She desperately had wanted to lay her head down in his lap and snuggle in while reading. It was so horribly domestic, and she cringed at the thought that in two weeks time, their work would be done and he would be gone. Was that what was really the problem? Was she clinging to him to avoid being alone again?

Hermione shook that thought from her head. If that were the case, she certainly could find a more agreeable man to cling on to. She could take a class at the local muggle college and make a friend or two to alleviate her loneliness. Hell, she could even get a new pet. It had been two years since Crookshanks had died. In fact, the two latter options were preferred to the idea of being intimate. And therein lays the real problem.

She could tell that the tension between them was close to exploding like a reactive potion with the flame turned up too high. And that scared the bloody shite out of her. Well, no, it excited the hell out of her AND scared the bloody shite out of her. She caught herself more than once fantasizing about her and Severus making love. Only her thoughts were all touch and smell and feeling. She never pictured how anything looked.

After combing out her hair, clipping it back, and brushing her teeth, Hermione headed into her room and stood in front of her full-length mirror. The mirror that she only used to check her outfits in. Slowly, she opened her towel and let it drop it to the floor.

This is why she never pictured anything involving herself naked. Her entire torso, front and back, and her arms down to her elbows and her legs to her knees were littered with scars. No, that wasn’t quite right. If her scars were a sound it would be a cacophony. They were woven in squiggles all over like a trove of albino snakes.

Hermione’s reflection in the mirror seemed to begin to blur when she realized that it was because her eyes filled with tears, just sitting on the rims of her lids. Quickly dabbing her eyes dry with her discarded towel, she remembered why she didn’t look at herself in the mirror anymore without clothes on. She remembered exactly why she wore ¾-sleeve to full sleeved tops and blouses. She remembered why she never wore skirts or dresses of any length without tights; never nylons or stockings.

She had only been intimate wthrethree men in her life. Her first time was her only pleasant experience which some might think odd, since most women are usually “eh” about their first times. She had met a nice muggle boy who was staying with his Aunt and Uncle on vacation over the summer. His Aunt and Uncle were her neighbors. His name was Jim.

She and Jim got along so well! They had much in common, and bot both getting ready for their last years in school. He went to a prestigious prep school up north and she was appropriately vague about the school she went to in Scotland. After the first time they kissed they promised that whatever happened, there would be no promises, no commitment. Neither needed the attachment then, but they did want each other for the time they had. Their first time was appropriately awkward, but sweet. It got better as the summer wore on. They both did cry when he left, but they both smiled, too. It was bittersweet.

Hermione began to think of her later experiences. After she went to university, she had two boyfriends. The first, William, was a disaster. They had been going out for about two months and were, as Ron would say, snogging like mad when William began to unbutton her blouse. With wild abandon, Hermione shrugged it off as their mouths and tongues were still busy with each other. His hands began to brush against her sides and then he stopped. Pushing back from her and looking down, his eyes widened in unadulterated shock and repulsion. Hermione used “from the war” as her reason for the scars when he asked her about them. Oh, he tried to be a gentleman about it and played it off. He continued with their course of action, but everything after that from him was so perfunctory. He went through the motions, finished without even caring if she had any enjoyment from the encounter, made his excuses about an earlyss, ss, got dressed, left, and she never heard from him again.

Her second boyfriend, Geoffrey, was a doll, but when it came to their first progressions to intimacy, she decided that she should be upfront about the scars, and showed him a bit of her side. Again, only answering “from the war” when asked how she got them, he seemed, while initially shocked, fine with it. She was adamant about having almost complete darkness when any clothes came off, and this went on for several months. One night, he convinced her that he wasn’t disgusted with her and insisted on more light. “Candles, darling. Just a few. It will be very romantic.” She gave in, but when she saw the look of pity and the thinly veiled expression of horror when he got the full body view, she left and never came back. She stopped trying after that.

She was terrified of possibly reliving something like that again. She didn’t blame either of them. Hell, she can’t even look at herself without feeling like she would throw up, so how could she hold it against someone else.

Severus, though, didn’t seem to show pity, or repulsion when she showed him, and he got to see the cause of it all from in her mind. He was, instead, disgusted with himself. Though that doesn’t mean he won’t be turned off if he had to see it all, laid out before him. ‘Hah!’ she thought. ‘I can see it now. Here I am; your goddess of pain!’ She just couldn’t imagine ‘why’ anyone would want her.

Pulling on her pajamas, she realized she wasn’t going to be able to even lie still while she waited for sleep to overcome her tonight. She needed a distraction. She had been slacking on keeping up with her online friends’ journals since Severus came. They had been so busy with everything else. Maybe some time online, reading about other people’s troubles will help her forget her own for a while.

Sliding on her slippers, she left her room and headed to the office.

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Snape and Hermione were each stopped facing each other about a half meter from the office door.

“I was going to work on…” “I was going to play online…” they both said over each other, which caused them to smile and let out small laughs.

Snape’s smile faded and a look of contemplation came over him. There was a definite charge in the air surrounding them and if you had a couple of wires, you could ground them between the two and probably light up Piccadilly Circus!

He looked at her, in her black satin pajamas, her face slightly flushed and her hair still damp from the shower. She really was a vision, in all of her incarnations; sleekly dressed modern woman, fiercely dedicated researcher, and rabid angel! He stared her down, his eyes changing from thoughtful, to smoldering as he made a decision. Slowly, he took a step forward, and stopped. If she wants this as well, then she needed to make a move, too.

Hermione watched the byplay on his face. She had never seen so many emotions flicker across his usually stoic face. He was a master at concealing his thoughts and keeping people at arms length and off their guard. She realized how much she fashioned herself after him after what the Malfoy’s did to her, down to the signature black wardrobe. Though at that moment she became conscious that what she had created of herself was an automaton, a mere caricature of the man he once was. He all her her to be free for once, and he was taking a step into an unknown venture. He was willing to take a chance on her. Maybe it was time for her to take a chance on herself again.

Smiling, she took a step forward, and before he could move, she took another. Overwhelmed with the faith she was giving him, Snape cleared the space between them with one long stride, gathered her into his arms, and their mouths met in a kiss that almost lit the air around them on fire.

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A/N: once again, thank you\'s to everyone who has reviewed. :)
Rei: when coding in conjunction with using a server side programming language such as php, there is a lot you have to do by hand. and when i taught professors at a local college how to create and upkeep their own websites, even though i taught them how to use dreamweaver (or ~shudder~ frontpage if that was their preference), i still made sure they understood the basics of html. if you understand what the program is doing, and what the limitations of certain tags are, then you can more effeciently use the software. so that\'s how i had hermione approach it. thanks for the review!! :)