Beneficent Stranger
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
5,310
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
5,310
Reviews:
8
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.
Chapter Two
Beneficent Stranger
Chapter Two
Firewhiskey
The firewhiskey went down with a smooth burn that, for the moment, turned his mind from the thoughts that had driven him to the bottle in the first place. He took the time to savor the pain by closing his eyes and drawing shallow breaths. He had to do something, anything, to avoid having to ponder the words he had just read. Yet, the words were already burned into his mind as indelibly as the now dormant mark on his arm.
She had called him “dearest”.
It wasn’t that the contents of her letter surprised him. It was the certainty of the words on the paper, words that had been unsaid, until now. The letters she had written this year had made subtle references to her growing affection toward him. References he had dismissed as merely the romanticisms of a seventeen going on eighteen year old young woman who, quite naturally, idealized the man who had sponsored her.
The fact that she fancied her unknown benefactor wasn’t surprising, for she had relayed to him all of the trials, and tribulations of her adolescence. He knew about her short, romantic relationship with Ronald Weasley, and the lack of interest by the boys of her year after that. He knew that, at times, she had felt as if she were nothing more than resource material to her friends and fellow students. She had written of her envy of what she called, “the pretty girls”, although she was always quick to add that she found some of them vacuous and annoying.
In one memorable letter she wrote that she often wished that she had been fortunate enough to be born pretty and smart. He had snorted when he’d read her words, thinking, ‘Didn’t she know that she was both?’
Then again, that letter had been written after a particularly, “horrid afternoon spent in double potions, where I had to put up with Professor Snape’s purposely ignoring me and Ron’s doltish flirtation with Pansy Parkinson . Professor Snape ignored Pansy’s acting up, but took points from Gryffindor, as usual, “she had written. “He can really be a bastard sometimes!”
He had been far from offended at her choice of adjective, so far from offended in fact, that he had laughed when he’d read her words. He knew he could act the bastard at times, but old habits die hard. Besides, she had been right in describing the youngest Weasley male’s behavior, as doltish.
“One would think that he might behave in a more evenhanded manner now that V is dead, but no, he still favors those sneaky serpents! Nor does he ever relax! Heaven forbid that he actually relax, or exhibit bad posture, or even dress less like Professor Moriarty. Although, there is something about all of those buttons on that frock coat of his that I find oddly—well. I’d best not write about that, although I don’t think that it would shock you in the least. It’s just that if Ron or Harry ever got their hands on this letter and read what I just wrote, I’d never hear the end of the teasing! Besides, there is no one whom I admire more than you, my most Beneficent Stranger. I just wish the professor could be more like you, or at least how I imagine you to be.”
That had gotten his attention. The fact that she had a crush on her nasty Potions master had surprised him, and to some small degree, he was flattered.
Yes, for all of the practicality she exhibited in her school work, he knew that like all women, she desired affection. So, he gave her the affection she desired the only way he was capable of, anonymously. Although, the thought Miss Granger imagining her sponsor as a handsome, wealthy man, had always brought a sad sort of smile to his face. He had always assumed that if she ever found out the truth she would be horrified.
Not that she ever would discover the identity of her benefactor, for the terms of their contract, forbade her from seeking out the identity of her “sponsor”. So of course, he had experienced some alarm when she had started telling him that she was trying to figure out who he was. He knew that, once she had set out to accomplish a goal, she would pursue it to completion with dogged determination. In, what he knew now had been a futile effort at distracting her, he had sent her a collection of leather bound books hoping that they would keep her mind occupied enough to forego her quest.
He should have known better.
He should have seen.
Yet, she had been so clever.
Now he understood the looks she had sent his way this year. Now he understood the changed behavior toward him, the quick, tentative smiles in his direction, all disguised as the respectful glances of a student toward a teacher. He had only vaguely noticed it at the time, but now that he thought upon those moments, he saw the deeper meaning behind her actions. She had known all this time. Known, and had never said a word. Had she confronted him before now, he would have been cutting in his denial
‘How positively Slytherin of her,’ he thought
He poured himself another drink, with hands that trembled still.
What had started as an act, to assuage the guilt he felt over not being able to prevent the loss of her family, had turned into something deeper.
Her required letters to him had shown him a side of her that he had never seen, one that he found pleasing, and admirable. Her determination to prove the prejudices of their world incorrect, her innate intelligence and maturity, the buoyancy of her soul through the sea of tragedy that one so young should never have had to swim through, had raised his estimation of her in his eyes.
All of this had drawn him in, so subtly, that he was now trapped by it. Somewhere along the way, he had fallen in love with Hermione Granger. An unspoken love, which he had pledged to keep as such, for he had never thought that she would return his feelings.
Until tonight’s letter had come.
His heart leapt in his chest, and he drew a deep breath, the inrushing air warming the whiskey that lingered on his tongue. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
Tomorrow night she would be waiting for him, and he would go to her.
As this was written well before HBP it is absolutely AU. This is a re-do of the story that was originally posted. The premise hasn’t changed, I’ve merely fine tuned the chapters. Please let me know what you think. Live long and prosper, Titania
Chapter Two
Firewhiskey
The firewhiskey went down with a smooth burn that, for the moment, turned his mind from the thoughts that had driven him to the bottle in the first place. He took the time to savor the pain by closing his eyes and drawing shallow breaths. He had to do something, anything, to avoid having to ponder the words he had just read. Yet, the words were already burned into his mind as indelibly as the now dormant mark on his arm.
She had called him “dearest”.
It wasn’t that the contents of her letter surprised him. It was the certainty of the words on the paper, words that had been unsaid, until now. The letters she had written this year had made subtle references to her growing affection toward him. References he had dismissed as merely the romanticisms of a seventeen going on eighteen year old young woman who, quite naturally, idealized the man who had sponsored her.
The fact that she fancied her unknown benefactor wasn’t surprising, for she had relayed to him all of the trials, and tribulations of her adolescence. He knew about her short, romantic relationship with Ronald Weasley, and the lack of interest by the boys of her year after that. He knew that, at times, she had felt as if she were nothing more than resource material to her friends and fellow students. She had written of her envy of what she called, “the pretty girls”, although she was always quick to add that she found some of them vacuous and annoying.
In one memorable letter she wrote that she often wished that she had been fortunate enough to be born pretty and smart. He had snorted when he’d read her words, thinking, ‘Didn’t she know that she was both?’
Then again, that letter had been written after a particularly, “horrid afternoon spent in double potions, where I had to put up with Professor Snape’s purposely ignoring me and Ron’s doltish flirtation with Pansy Parkinson . Professor Snape ignored Pansy’s acting up, but took points from Gryffindor, as usual, “she had written. “He can really be a bastard sometimes!”
He had been far from offended at her choice of adjective, so far from offended in fact, that he had laughed when he’d read her words. He knew he could act the bastard at times, but old habits die hard. Besides, she had been right in describing the youngest Weasley male’s behavior, as doltish.
“One would think that he might behave in a more evenhanded manner now that V is dead, but no, he still favors those sneaky serpents! Nor does he ever relax! Heaven forbid that he actually relax, or exhibit bad posture, or even dress less like Professor Moriarty. Although, there is something about all of those buttons on that frock coat of his that I find oddly—well. I’d best not write about that, although I don’t think that it would shock you in the least. It’s just that if Ron or Harry ever got their hands on this letter and read what I just wrote, I’d never hear the end of the teasing! Besides, there is no one whom I admire more than you, my most Beneficent Stranger. I just wish the professor could be more like you, or at least how I imagine you to be.”
That had gotten his attention. The fact that she had a crush on her nasty Potions master had surprised him, and to some small degree, he was flattered.
Yes, for all of the practicality she exhibited in her school work, he knew that like all women, she desired affection. So, he gave her the affection she desired the only way he was capable of, anonymously. Although, the thought Miss Granger imagining her sponsor as a handsome, wealthy man, had always brought a sad sort of smile to his face. He had always assumed that if she ever found out the truth she would be horrified.
Not that she ever would discover the identity of her benefactor, for the terms of their contract, forbade her from seeking out the identity of her “sponsor”. So of course, he had experienced some alarm when she had started telling him that she was trying to figure out who he was. He knew that, once she had set out to accomplish a goal, she would pursue it to completion with dogged determination. In, what he knew now had been a futile effort at distracting her, he had sent her a collection of leather bound books hoping that they would keep her mind occupied enough to forego her quest.
He should have known better.
He should have seen.
Yet, she had been so clever.
Now he understood the looks she had sent his way this year. Now he understood the changed behavior toward him, the quick, tentative smiles in his direction, all disguised as the respectful glances of a student toward a teacher. He had only vaguely noticed it at the time, but now that he thought upon those moments, he saw the deeper meaning behind her actions. She had known all this time. Known, and had never said a word. Had she confronted him before now, he would have been cutting in his denial
‘How positively Slytherin of her,’ he thought
He poured himself another drink, with hands that trembled still.
What had started as an act, to assuage the guilt he felt over not being able to prevent the loss of her family, had turned into something deeper.
Her required letters to him had shown him a side of her that he had never seen, one that he found pleasing, and admirable. Her determination to prove the prejudices of their world incorrect, her innate intelligence and maturity, the buoyancy of her soul through the sea of tragedy that one so young should never have had to swim through, had raised his estimation of her in his eyes.
All of this had drawn him in, so subtly, that he was now trapped by it. Somewhere along the way, he had fallen in love with Hermione Granger. An unspoken love, which he had pledged to keep as such, for he had never thought that she would return his feelings.
Until tonight’s letter had come.
His heart leapt in his chest, and he drew a deep breath, the inrushing air warming the whiskey that lingered on his tongue. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
Tomorrow night she would be waiting for him, and he would go to her.
As this was written well before HBP it is absolutely AU. This is a re-do of the story that was originally posted. The premise hasn’t changed, I’ve merely fine tuned the chapters. Please let me know what you think. Live long and prosper, Titania