My Fair Witch

Disclaimer: Snape, Hermione, Draco are all Jo's. Unfortunately. I wish that Snape was mine.

firewall: Well, I just couldn't resist it any longer. I hope you continue to like it.

beeky63: Hello, old friend. I hope the grammers got better? I'm glad to know you like my new story.

EmmyloveDraco: LOL. Thanks. I hope you love Snape in this one. I sure do!

Dee Dee: Yes, Snape is jealous all right. But then you'll understand as the story progresses. Have you ever watched My Fair Lady? It's great, and its as close to Snape/Hermione as we're EVER going to get.

angel: Hello, and update is here!

First Rehearsals

Hermione walked into the auditorium much the same way as she did before. She was bobbing her head to the mid-nineties rave tunes that she liked to listen to. She slung her bag down where she did before. The script was poking out of her bag. She took her earpieces out and wrapped them around her stereo. She slung it on top of her bag and took her brush out of the first compartment. She brushed and gathered her hair up and put it in its customary ponytail.

“How did your date go?” a silky smooth voice asked from behind her.

Hermione turned around and looked up into the face of Severus Snape. No! She scolded herself, Steven. She almost laughed at the reason all though she felt that he had a somewhat more sinister reason for being here. Why the hell would the former Head of Slytherin be in a muggle play? Sirius Black would be laughing in his grave if he knew this. But then Sirius would shudder at the feelings that were playing about in Hermione. She gulped.

“It went well,” she said. “He gave me this.”

She pointed to her neck and there was a pure gold chain with a heart shaped pendant with a small ruby in the right of it. It was beautiful, and complimented Hermione’s skin beautifully.

“Nice piece of dress jewellery,” Snape muttered.

“Is it really any of your business whom I’m dating, Steven?” she asked, she emphasised the Steven with a leer.

He arched an eyebrow. Hermione noticed that he was wearing the same black jeans, leather boots and silk shirt. The leather jacket was discarded somewhere; he had his hair in a ponytail, the top three buttons of his shirts were undone; revealing to Hermione exactly what she couldn’t hold. Teasing bastard!

“Well, Hermione, perhaps after today’s rehearsal you might want to have dinner with me?”

Hermione gulped. Was he asking her out on a date? The drink was nice but she didn’t think she could sit through a whole dinner with him. NO! That shouldn’t be her main objection. She was dating. She had finally tamed the Slytherin Sex God Draco Malfoy to some extent, and last night he bought up the subject of living together. A situation that she would gladly accept, except for a niggle at the back of her mind.

“No,” she replied. She tried not to wilt under his gaze. She was like a plant in direct sunlight with no sign of water.

Pamela looked over at the two of them. In fact the entire group were watching the two of them. Everything they said could be heard throughout the echoing auditorium. Hermione looked around and noticed the group’s attention was on them. She was blushing.

“Why not?” Snape asked. He, too, knew the group’s attention was fully on them. He wanted it to be that way.

“Because I’m dating, Steven, I have a boyfriend.”

“A boy that doesn’t have the guts to go for an errand boy’s job,” Steven growled.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “FYI, Steven, David happens to be a clever, brave man.”

“Oh, is that his name?” Snape asked. “David?”

Hermione held her arms from under her breasts; Snape looked down and noticed what could never be his. She was most certainly a well-rounded individual.

“David happens to love me very much!” Hermione exclaimed. She turned on her heel, her ponytail whacking Snape in the chest. She sauntered over to Pamela and Jemima.

Jemima looked over at Steven, and then turned her attention back to her childhood friend. Hermione obviously had a similar problem to hers. It was something that didn’t surprise Jemima. They always seemed to have the same problems. She liked Adam, but she had a boyfriend that everyone would approve of. A boyfriend nearer her own age, and some people said, her own looks too.

“So, how is Bella?” Hermione asked.

“She’s fine,” Pamela said. “She’s getting on a bit you know. I’m thinking of giving her a home. She can’t seem to take the kids anymore.”

“Who’s Bella?” Snape asked, joining their group.

“Do you mind, Steven?” Hermione was seething. Pamela turned to Steven.

“Bella is a Boa Constrictor,” she replied. “She was devoted to Hermione. Bella used to slither out of her cage to wrap around Hermione during lessons. She went a bit dull when Hermione left. No other child seems to interest her.”

Hermione was biting the inside of her cheek. Her cheeks were burning.

“I remember when she did that,” Jemima piped up with. “Oh, she was beautiful. It’s a shame that Rob is scared of snakes.”

“I’m not,” Hermione said. “And neither is David, my boyfriend had always wanted a pet snake.”

Steven gulped and tried not to laugh. Draco Malfoy? He might be a part of the Malfoy family, but his history with serpents as a species wasn’t pleasant. What sort of lies has he been feeding Hermione?

“So, would you look after Bella, please Hermione?” Pamela asked.

“So, how do you know Hermione’s liking for this snake?” Snape asked Pamela.

“I was her teacher at Primary School,” Pamela answered. “She was the finest mind to teach even at the age of six,” Pamela took a deep breath; she took a swig of water from her bottle. “I envy the teachers that got to hone it in her adolescence. I almost offered to be her private tutor. I just couldn’t bear the thought of her being taught by other people.”

Snape turned to Hermione. She didn’t need to look at him to know that his lips would be turned up at the corners with a smirk; she didn’t need to stare at him to know his eyes were glinting, and she most certainly didn’t need to see the familiar arch of the eyebrow.

“Anyway,” Pamela said. “I need to attend to a call of nature.”

“Me too,” Jemima said. Hermione was about to follow them, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

“David likes snakes does he?” Snape asked. “Either the boy has grown a backbone but the last I saw him, which was only a week ago, he cringed at the snake buckle on my belt. In fact this Bella sounds like more my kind of pet than David’s.”

“I really have to go to the lavatory,” Hermione said coldly.

He released her and she walked to the toilets. She heard Pamela and Jemima talking.

“Oh my life!” She heard. It was Jemima’s voice. “Is Hermione lucky or what! Did you see the way that guy was looking at her?”

“Uh-huh! This is going to be fun,” Pamela said. “Oh, he’s gorgeous though. Whoever this David is she’s dating he must be an idiot.”

Hermione groaned. These two were going to cause such problems. Every theatre group had some gossipers; Pamela and Jemima were this one. They would also meddle.

“Wonder where they knew each other before?” Jemima asked. “Its obvious they do.”

“I don’t know, but he likes her a lot,” Pamela said. “I’ll bet you £20 that they’d sleep together before the end of the week.”

“£25 if they do it tonight!” Jemima exclaimed.

Hermione couldn’t believe her ears. Was Snape really THAT obvious?

“And she likes him,” Pamela said. “I could tell that by the way she reacted when he spoke. Hermione crossed her arms to form a barrier between them. She was trying to keep him away from her for a reason.”

Hermione felt like storming in the ladies and telling them both to stick their proverbial ponies in their proverbial pockets! She stormed away and walked up the stairs to the ones on the top floor. She walked in the door of the lavatory and slammed it shut. She strode angrily up to the mirror and checked her reflection.

“GREAT!” she yelled. She checked her watch, it was ten o’clock, and she had to be back down there. She was to be Eliza Doolittle, her dream role. “Funny,” she snorted to herself. “How a dream could suddenly turn into a nightmare.”

“Did you know talking to yourself is the first sign of madness,” the soft silky voice echoed in the room.

She spun around; her eyes flashed fire at him. “Why couldn’t you stay in the dungeons where you belong?” she snapped at him.

“It seems you still find the toilets as sanctuary,” Snape observed smoothly, noting with sheer delight at the blush painted on her cheeks. “You can’t always run away you know, someday the troll might get you!”

“I have more than trolls to worry about!”

He walked up to her. “Greg wants you down there now.”

“Well, I better go then!” she exclaimed. He walked up to her and tilted her chin up.

“So, you like snakes then. Explains why you’re dating one!”

“You’re impossible,” she spat. She brushed his hand aside and walked out of the door. Snape grinned at her retreating back. There was a good reason why he was here. He followed slowly. He’d take her out for dinner tonight; he would give her a perfectly valid reason. Six years teaching and watching her taught him a lot about her. His good memory was invaluable as a spy in the Dark Times, as they came to be called. Now he’d use it for pleasure.

He entered the auditorium with a smug leer on his face as he noticed that Hermione had planted herself firmly between Pamela and Jemima. He sauntered up to an empty chair gracefully. Hermione kept her eyes narrowed at him. He felt her eyes bore into him; he turned around and caught her looking at him. She quickly looked away tilting her chin proudly up in the air. He laughed silently. She was adorable when she was defiant.

“Okay,” Greg said. “Steven, Hermione, I want you up on the stage. Steven do you know the tune to ‘Why Can’t The English?’” He looked at Steven.

“I do,” he replied.

Hermione’s eyes widened. How on earth did Snape know this tune? If only Harry could see this! Snape, singing! She got up off the chair and walked up the steps to the stage. Snape followed behind keeping his eyes on Hermione’s bum.

“£30?” Jemima asked.

“You’re on,” Pamela answered.

Hermione sat down on the stage in a pose that she saw Audrey Hepburn have in the film. Steven had his script tucked away under the waist of his jeans with the shirt covering it up. He opened the script to the appropriate page to check his lines. He nodded, and took a deep breath.

“Look at her prisoner of the gutters!
Condemned by every syllable she utters!
By rights she should be taken out and hung.
For the cold blooded murder of the English tongue!”

Hermione was awestruck; he had a rough quality to his singing voice. She was reminded of a cross between Louis Armstrong and Bono from U2. She shook her head. That was too surreal for her normally logical mind.

“’OW!” Hermione screeched in perfect cockney.

“’OW!” Snape sneered. “Heavens, what a sound! It’s ‘ow and garn that keep her in her place. Not her wretched clothes and dirty face!”

Oh this is perfect for you isn’t it Snape? She fumed angrily inside herself. Only now you definitely get paid for insulting me.

“This is what the British population, calls an elementary education!”

“I think, sir, you picked a poor example!” Greg said, filling in the role of Colonel Pickering.

“Did I?” Snape asked, warming up to the role. “Hear them down in Soho square, dropping h’s everywhere, speaking English anyway they like.”

“Okay,” Greg said, “that’s enough. I want the pair of you now to sit in the corner and go through the script together.”

Hermione groaned, she got up of the stage floor and wiped the back of her clothes off. She then walked past Snape and went down the stairs. She chose a spot in the middle of the lower seating area and in the light. Snape shook his head. He followed her and sat next to her.

“This isn’t exactly the corner now, is it?” Snape asked.

“It’s good enough,” she replied starchly.

He chuckled. He sat as close to her as possible. She couldn’t edge away and she knew she couldn’t move seats; he’d just follow her for one thing. He laid his script out on his lap, and she held hers up.

“Why don’t we share?” Snape asked.

Hermione shook her head refusing to talk to him unless it was in the role of Eliza Doolittle. They started reading the script together. Snape waited for her to ask a question, she must be bursting with them right about now.

“Have you seen the film, sir?” Hermione asked.

“Steven,” he said, “and yes, but a long time ago. It was before I went to Hogwarts. My mum and dad took me when I was a boy to see it at the cinema,” he said. Hermione’s eyes widened at this piece of childhood background. She had always assumed that he had a rotten childhood.

“Oh,” was her reply. That’s a relief. If he hadn’t then she might have been forced to have invited him over to watch it. Or asked Pamela to do it.

“I wouldn’t mind watching it again,” he said. “Would this evening do, Hermione? We could order a Chinese Takeaway, my treat?”

Hermione slunk in her seat. Why didn’t Draco ask her out for this evening as well? She had no excuse except for the clichéd ‘washing my hair!’ crap.

“Oh, all right,” she sighed. “But this is research and studying only. It isn’t a date!” she exclaimed.

“LUNCH!” Greg exclaimed. “Be back in an hour!”

“We might as well lunch together to,” he said. “And this WOULD be a date.”

“As funny as I find the idea of dating Severus Snape, I’m afraid I can’t. Pam, Jem and I go to the pub,” she replied sarcastically.

“Then let me escort the three of you, never let it be said that I wasn’t a gentleman!”

“We can find our own way thank you very much. And before you ask, yes I do carry my wand with me everywhere I go!”

He got up and brushed some fly away hair from her face. He decided to give the crowd something to watch; he leant in and placed a lingering kiss on her cheek that sent Hermione’s insides to mush. She looked at him with nothing but hatred in her eyes, as she raised her hand and slapped him squarely in the face. He rubbed the cheek, as she turned around and stormed away from him.

All her display of defiance did for him, though, was make him more determined to take her away from Draco ‘Eynsford-Hill’ Malfoy.

~*~*~

Her trip to the pub did nothing to alleviate Hermione’s tempest of emotions. How dare he? How bloody dare he? What right did that bastard have in turning up out of the blue to become Mr Sex-God, after being such a slimeball for most of his life, and hit on her constantly and in full view of old friends and teachers? And more voraciously since he found out she had a boyfriend. She had to tell Draco about this.

“So,” Pam said. “What does his lips feel like?”

“I don’t wish to discuss this,” Hermione said. “Do you have a spare evening, Pam?”

“Sorry,” Pam replied. “I have to go and visit my Aunt.”

“Jemima, do you think you and Rob could come over and watch the film with me?”

“No can do,” Jemima said. “I plan on breaking up with Rob tonight. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason,” she said in a small voice sipping her coke. Great! She had to be on her own with Snape. Terrific.

Pam and Jem looked at each other and winked.

~*~*~

Thankfully the rest of the afternoon was spent doing whatever they wanted as Greg was auditioning for the other parts in the play amongst the small group. Hermione hoped Pamela would get the part of the Housekeeper, Mrs Pierce. Hermione tried to keep her distance from Snape all afternoon. It was futile. No matter how far she stood away from him she could feel his penetrating eyes gazing at her.

She willed the time to go forward. She so desperately needed some fresh air, and she needed to get away from him. At least at Hogwarts she wasn’t much in his company. Potions or Defence classes and that was it, for the main part. But here in Dickensian Square Theatre she was stuck. She could just walk out of the theatre for five minutes or so, but Snape would only follow her.

If he insisted he come over then she wouldn’t warn him of Crookshanks Jr jealous nature. If her cat had anything to do with it, then Snape would be sitting on the kitchen table. Crookshanks hated Draco sitting next to her, yet Draco was nice to her.

She sat on her own for the rest of the afternoon just reading the script. Severus decided to leave her on her own; he’d have plenty of opportunity to annoy her throughout the evening. Annoy, and seduce.

She checked her watch, it was five pm; she got up and picked up her bag. Snape walked up to her.

“Shall I escort you home?”

“I’ll be fine,” Hermione snapped.

“Where do you live?” Snape asked.

Hermione told him stiffly. She slung her bag up on her shoulder and flashed a hard look at him. “I’ll expect you around seven.”

“Seven it is,” Snape said.

~*~*~

Hermione apparated home and started tidying things up. She wasn’t a messy person, but she felt that Snape would use ANY small thing to make fun of her the next day. She plumped up the pillows, lightly dusted the visible surfaces and ran the vacuum cleaner through. She then noticed she had time to have a bath.

She ran a bath and poured some lavender and rose oils in it. She slid into the bath, grateful for the opportunity to soak. She washed her hair, and then stepped out of the bath. She put on a white cotton lacy bra, and matching knickers. She didn’t shave her legs though. She put on a pair of tights and a black silk pair of slippers she the slipped on a casual red dress. She put on some light make up.

She decided to walk into the living room, and decided not to watch the news and turned the television on to a Simpson’s repeat. It was the episode where Bart cheated on a test and got into that brain school. It was quite funny, but Hermione never really liked the Simpson’s. It bothered her that the children never grew up. She found the thought of that somewhat disturbing.

She laughed though at Bart’s philosophy. She was about to settle down and watch Fresh Prince of Bel Air, when her doorbell rang. She looked at her watch. It was only 6:30. It couldn’t be him yet?

She got up to answer the door and Snape stood there grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“Ready, Hermione?”

“Your early,” she said.

“I’ve got dinner,” Snape said, holding up the bag.

“You best come in then,” she said. She stepped aside and he walked into her flat.

A/N Pony is London Cockney for £25. It's a lyric in Only Fools And Horses. It has a Harry Potter connection... BOTH Nicholas Lyndhurst (Rodney) and Roger Lloyd Pack acted with Daniel Radcliffe. Nick play Uriah Heep in David Copperfield where Dan played the leading role... Roger Lloyd Pack was Barty Crouch Senior in GoF. Sorry, had to add in that trivia.