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A Terrible Temptation
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
44
Views:
21,093
Reviews:
1048
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
44
Views:
21,093
Reviews:
1048
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
12 Grimmauld Place
A/N - I really feel like as far as HG/SS I can never really top Fire and the Rose or Last Tango in Paris, so I am not even going to try to. They did it before me and better, so this is really more of something I am doing for fun. Thanks to Kate who is getting chapters from five different stories right now and keeping up with the output mania while still writing her own stuff. (Check my recommended reading list for her wonderful stories, under the name Moaning Myrtle)
deblovesdragon, kiristeen - thank you
Brian - Someday you WILL have to learn patience. :)
Zephyr - Your wish is my command.
Helen - It\'s my favorite ship too, though I try not to play favorites. :)
Laura - You\'re welcome.
Talene - Thanks, I will update as often as possible. (by the way I like your stories too.)
Stellar Snape - Here ya go!
Chapter 2 – 12 Grimmauld Place
“Harry!” Hermione heard the pop of his arrival, bounded down the staircase and enveloped him in a hug so tight it probably cut off his air. He hugged her back, grinning; each so happy to see each other that they didn’t see Ron descending the steps until he launched himself at them and they ended up in a sprawl on the floor laughing and tangled up.
“Ron! Hermione!” He laughed. “It’s so good to see you!” They were sitting on the floor of the hallway at 12 Grimmauld Place with their arms around each other, laughing happily when Snape appeared.
“Potter! Weasley! Miss Granger!” Snape scolded and they scrambled to their feet, reduced in an instant from near adults to grubby first years. Hermione’s initial happy glow faded as she looked at Snape’s scowling face.
She no longer hated Snape, though she doubted the Professor could say the same about her and her friends since last year’s huge battle with Voldemort, when Snape had risked everything to save them all from certain death. Hermione had developed a very grudging respect for the Potions Master. Sixth year Potions had been nearly bearable, as Snape was nowhere near as harsh on the upperclassmen as he was on the younger students.
“Potter, follow me; you two, remain here.” Snape commanded and Harry rushed after him, his own shorter legs struggling to keep up with Snape’s long stride.
“Wonder what that’s about?” Ron asked, miffed at having their reunion cut short. Hermione shrugged.
“Professor Snape must have Order business with Harry.” Hermione guessed and they went back to finishing their summer homework. Or she should say that Ron went back to finishing his; Hermione had done hers in the first two weeks after school got out. Now she was merely adding another couple of feet to some extra creworkwork she was doing for McGonagall.
She was glad that despite their break-up over the summer, Ron was still her friend. She watched him run an ink-smeared hand through his hair and wondered, fondly, when boys got around to growing up.
An hour later, Harry dragged back into the room and flung himself into one of the leather armchairs with an aggravated expression.
“What’d Snape want?” Ron asked, looking up from his transfiguration essay.
“There is a plot to kill me again this year and they want me to be extra careful.” Harry rolled his eyes and slumped into his chair with a groan.
“Harry, this is serious!” Hermione protested his off-hand manner.
“Oh come on, Hermione, someone tries to kill Harry most every year.” Ron shrugged.
“I am not to go to Hogsmeade or leave the school at all for any reason.” Hermione was annoyed by his aggrieved air. He made it sound like not going to Zonko’s for a while was a huge imposition in comparison to perhaps surviving for another year.
“I am so glad we no longer have that map.” Hermione’s comment brought a storm of recriminations from the other two, but she just ignored them.
Dinner was a strained affair as Professor Snape sat sullenly at one end of the table, as far from the rest of them as possible. Fred and George kept up a running patter through most of the meal and Ron and Harry got into a discussion of Quidditch that Hermione quickly tuned out. The adults discussed some new laws the Ministry was proposing -- something mind-numbingly dull about property rights -- and Ginny was reading a book at the table. That left Hermione to her own thoughts which was a rare enough occurrence in a group of Weasleys that she savored it.
Professor Snape, she noted, sat with an invisible bubble of isolation around him. She had never known anyone so adept at keeping people at a distance. Even the twins, who would pester anyone, anytime, kept space between them. Hermione wondered if there was anyone who was allowed into the inner sanctum of the dour man’s life. She doubted it and it seemed strangely sad to her. The twins’ voices rose and she turned to listen to Fred expound on something from the joke shop.
“…And then Angelina handed me one of our Tricksy Tails and waved it at me and all I could think was ’Wow, that’s Freudian!’ ‘cause you know they do look like…”
“Fred!” Molly Weasley interrupted with a scandalized expression.
“…tails.” Fred finished lamely, to general laughter. Professor Snape ignored them all, his attention completely on the papers he was studying. Hermione wondered if he ever laughed.
Once supper was over, she watched him slip out the door, on his way back to school. She suspected that she was the only one who had even noticed his departure. He was like a shadow of a man -- not really completely there, even when he was standing in the room with you. It was the opposite of how he was in the classroom; she wondered which was the real Professor Snape and which was the mask, or were they both? Had she ever really met the real Severus Snape? She went to bed pondering that question.
The next two weeks passed quickly for Ron, Hermione, and Harry and they went from lazy days spent exploring Order Headquarters and reading in the library, to running around the house looking for all their belongings as they packed for their last year at school.
The Hogwarts Express sat gleaming and steaming in the chill September light and the happy greetings of friends re-united rang out, mingled with last-minute exhortations from parents and the hoots and howls of familiars. It was the usual deafening cacophony and Hermione stored it away for the future. This was her last September as a Hogwarts student, her last trip to the school on this train. There was a melancholy that had crept up on her standing there, but it was shaken off as she boarded and went to find a place for them all.
After all, there was a whole year ahead of her, a year with Ron and Harry and all the rest of her friends, a whole year of new things to learn.
deblovesdragon, kiristeen - thank you
Brian - Someday you WILL have to learn patience. :)
Zephyr - Your wish is my command.
Helen - It\'s my favorite ship too, though I try not to play favorites. :)
Laura - You\'re welcome.
Talene - Thanks, I will update as often as possible. (by the way I like your stories too.)
Stellar Snape - Here ya go!
Chapter 2 – 12 Grimmauld Place
“Harry!” Hermione heard the pop of his arrival, bounded down the staircase and enveloped him in a hug so tight it probably cut off his air. He hugged her back, grinning; each so happy to see each other that they didn’t see Ron descending the steps until he launched himself at them and they ended up in a sprawl on the floor laughing and tangled up.
“Ron! Hermione!” He laughed. “It’s so good to see you!” They were sitting on the floor of the hallway at 12 Grimmauld Place with their arms around each other, laughing happily when Snape appeared.
“Potter! Weasley! Miss Granger!” Snape scolded and they scrambled to their feet, reduced in an instant from near adults to grubby first years. Hermione’s initial happy glow faded as she looked at Snape’s scowling face.
She no longer hated Snape, though she doubted the Professor could say the same about her and her friends since last year’s huge battle with Voldemort, when Snape had risked everything to save them all from certain death. Hermione had developed a very grudging respect for the Potions Master. Sixth year Potions had been nearly bearable, as Snape was nowhere near as harsh on the upperclassmen as he was on the younger students.
“Potter, follow me; you two, remain here.” Snape commanded and Harry rushed after him, his own shorter legs struggling to keep up with Snape’s long stride.
“Wonder what that’s about?” Ron asked, miffed at having their reunion cut short. Hermione shrugged.
“Professor Snape must have Order business with Harry.” Hermione guessed and they went back to finishing their summer homework. Or she should say that Ron went back to finishing his; Hermione had done hers in the first two weeks after school got out. Now she was merely adding another couple of feet to some extra creworkwork she was doing for McGonagall.
She was glad that despite their break-up over the summer, Ron was still her friend. She watched him run an ink-smeared hand through his hair and wondered, fondly, when boys got around to growing up.
An hour later, Harry dragged back into the room and flung himself into one of the leather armchairs with an aggravated expression.
“What’d Snape want?” Ron asked, looking up from his transfiguration essay.
“There is a plot to kill me again this year and they want me to be extra careful.” Harry rolled his eyes and slumped into his chair with a groan.
“Harry, this is serious!” Hermione protested his off-hand manner.
“Oh come on, Hermione, someone tries to kill Harry most every year.” Ron shrugged.
“I am not to go to Hogsmeade or leave the school at all for any reason.” Hermione was annoyed by his aggrieved air. He made it sound like not going to Zonko’s for a while was a huge imposition in comparison to perhaps surviving for another year.
“I am so glad we no longer have that map.” Hermione’s comment brought a storm of recriminations from the other two, but she just ignored them.
Dinner was a strained affair as Professor Snape sat sullenly at one end of the table, as far from the rest of them as possible. Fred and George kept up a running patter through most of the meal and Ron and Harry got into a discussion of Quidditch that Hermione quickly tuned out. The adults discussed some new laws the Ministry was proposing -- something mind-numbingly dull about property rights -- and Ginny was reading a book at the table. That left Hermione to her own thoughts which was a rare enough occurrence in a group of Weasleys that she savored it.
Professor Snape, she noted, sat with an invisible bubble of isolation around him. She had never known anyone so adept at keeping people at a distance. Even the twins, who would pester anyone, anytime, kept space between them. Hermione wondered if there was anyone who was allowed into the inner sanctum of the dour man’s life. She doubted it and it seemed strangely sad to her. The twins’ voices rose and she turned to listen to Fred expound on something from the joke shop.
“…And then Angelina handed me one of our Tricksy Tails and waved it at me and all I could think was ’Wow, that’s Freudian!’ ‘cause you know they do look like…”
“Fred!” Molly Weasley interrupted with a scandalized expression.
“…tails.” Fred finished lamely, to general laughter. Professor Snape ignored them all, his attention completely on the papers he was studying. Hermione wondered if he ever laughed.
Once supper was over, she watched him slip out the door, on his way back to school. She suspected that she was the only one who had even noticed his departure. He was like a shadow of a man -- not really completely there, even when he was standing in the room with you. It was the opposite of how he was in the classroom; she wondered which was the real Professor Snape and which was the mask, or were they both? Had she ever really met the real Severus Snape? She went to bed pondering that question.
The next two weeks passed quickly for Ron, Hermione, and Harry and they went from lazy days spent exploring Order Headquarters and reading in the library, to running around the house looking for all their belongings as they packed for their last year at school.
The Hogwarts Express sat gleaming and steaming in the chill September light and the happy greetings of friends re-united rang out, mingled with last-minute exhortations from parents and the hoots and howls of familiars. It was the usual deafening cacophony and Hermione stored it away for the future. This was her last September as a Hogwarts student, her last trip to the school on this train. There was a melancholy that had crept up on her standing there, but it was shaken off as she boarded and went to find a place for them all.
After all, there was a whole year ahead of her, a year with Ron and Harry and all the rest of her friends, a whole year of new things to learn.