Judging Books By Their Cover

Hermione debated her decision for a good half hour before getting up the nerve to carry it out. So long as Madam Pomfrey didn’t catch her out of bed, and Professor Snape behaved like the man she’d seen rather than his usual unhappy self, it might work out alright. Not expecting much at all, am I? It would serve me right to get caught, performing stupid charms like this.

She found Professor Snape in his office, reading student’s papers and muttering unhappily to himself. Hermione had to work to remind herself of the Snape she knew, because the young man before her was a man she was finding it increasingly hard to hate. She might be a bookworm, but she wasn’t blind.

“Professor Snape?” she asked timidly, a little unnerved by it all.

“Ah, Miss Granger,” he said, looking up at her. “Feeling better, are we?”

“Not exactly. I thought... something strange happened and I thought you could answer some questions for me.”
He looked up at her, his eyebrow raised. “Did you, Miss Granger? Have I become your daddy or your nursemaid and not been informed of it?”

She had to stifle a giggle at the thought of him being either, especially in the appearance that she alone saw him with. It would not have done, though, to laugh. Snape never took well to it and was disinclined to help her as it was. “Severus, I…” Hermione stopped in horror, realizing what she had just called him. She opened her mouth to continue, hoping he wouldn’t notice, but it was too late.

Snape stood up from behind his desk and walked towards her, glaring. “Ten points from Gryffindor for inappropriately addressing a teacher. Now I expect you to tell me what you have gone and done. First year students waste my time and I try to be patient, but there is no excuse for you doing so, Miss Granger.”

Hermione had to look down at the floor before she was able to speak. Looking at him aroused strange sensations in her and it was not convenient for explaining such a terribly inconvenient mistake. “I tried a spell and potion from a book I found. It… makes me see everyone in a strange way.”

“Oh, I can assure you that you see everything in a strange way,” he answered quickly. “I would know. It has left me with a headache at the end of each and every class you participate in.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, exactly,” she said, frustrated and uncertain as to whether or not she should waste her time objecting to his words. “Everyone looks different. Some look older, some younger, and some just different in ways that don’t seem to make any sense at all. The spell was for understanding others, and I’m afraid it has done its job by making me see everyone as they are in spirit and not as they would normally look, which has become dreadfully confusing to me.”

“Let’s try to figure this out in a different way, shall we? How do I appear different to you?” he asked, caution in his eyes. He seemed worried that he knew exactly what she had done, though Hermione was sure the Snape everyone else saw wouldn’t have betrayed the thought. Could this be whether her current vision aided in understanding?

“I see you as you really are,” she answered simply, and the explanation went completely downhill from there.

“You look younger, sort of, and very handsome. Not that you weren’t before, because you were. I mean, you weren’t. That isn’t to say… oh, I’m going about this in a terribly bad way, aren’t I?”

Snape’s mouth seemed to curve in a slight smile, though once again she was sure it would have been better hidden were she not seeing this strange side of him. She’d never seen any smile on him though, and the sight shocked her. Was it a good thing that he found her situation so apparently humorous or did it make things even worse? He nodded slightly. “Yes, Miss Granger, very badly. Do continue, though, I might at least get some entertainment out of the situation.”

Feeling her face turn to scarlet, she tried to salvage the conversation. “I found it in a copy of Of Magical Empathy and Other Skills. I’m concerned because though I think I could grow used to this I have always been told by my professors, including yourself, that spells can cause side effects over time that sometimes do harm.”

“Overlooking the fact that the book in question is too rare to have come into your hands through any usual means for a moment,” he said, “I am pleasantly surprised that you manage to keep quiet and listen long enough to retain that bit of advice. Miss Granger, you have a terrible habit of seeming to forget valuable advice while remembering every unnecessary little fact or ingredient. Have you felt any side effects thus far?”

Hermione felt the blood rush to her face, and was certain it had to be crimson. “Not unless you consider... uh... no, so far I’ve been fine.”

“If you ask my help,” he said sternly, “then you must answer my questions.”

“I... I’m not sure I can,” she said.

“Miss Granger, I insist upon it.”

“Fine,” she said angrily. Between her anger, his insistence, and what the magic had done, Hermione found herself behaving in a most uncharacteristic way. His eyes were too deep and his lips too inviting. She stepped forward and covered his lips with hers.

Not long afterwards, Severus Snape sat in his office, deep in thought. Disturbed thought. Miss Granger had just left and he’d been given a multitude of things to think about. Foolish of him to allow his office door to be left open, but he doubted any additional warning would have allowed any more preparation for what was to come.

Earlier in the day he had thought her illness feigned. What else would he expect of someone so close to Harry Potter? She was looking at him strangely, but that too was to be expected in his mind. When she showed up in his office, his opinion hadn’t altered much. It wasn’t until she mentioned the spell, and the book which it had come from, when he had begun to fear the truth. Knowing that, after hearing her call him Severus, had thrown him into thought more troubled even than was usual for him. What did she see when she looked at him? She had said some things, but he found a hard time believing them. Nothing she did or said could be taken at face value, he felt, given the power of the spell and the shock she obviously felt because of it.

After that kiss, which he still didn’t know what to make of, Snape had felt the need for time to think. He allowed her some degree of leeway, knowing what he did about the situation. But misbehavior was misbehavior, and he would tolerate none of it. “Fifty points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger,” he had said, “for inappropriate conduct towards my person. Now leave me be while I consider all that you have said, and I will let you know when I have anything more to say on the subject.”

She had left in a hurry, apparently as disturbed by her behavior as he was. He had poured himself a drink. He considered searching for a spell or potion that would block her from seeing whatever side of him it was she saw, but quickly decided against it. It would take too long. Better to spend his effort on finding a way to reverse what she had done completely.

Still, it bothered him that she saw anything about him. Snape had worked hard at making sure that no one saw him for who he was. Yes, some knew something of him. Dumbledore thought he understood him, Minerva wanted to help him, and Voldemort believed him to be a loyal death eater. Maybe they were right about him, and maybe they weren’t. That didn’t mean he had to let them know for sure, or reveal more information than he must. Snape knew he had to stop this before Granger ruined it all.

He considered going to Dumbledore with the matter, knowing the Headmaster to be quite knowledgeable of such older spells. He then dismissed the idea, afraid that anything Hermione learned of him through it would get spread to others if he allowed more people to become involved. Better to wait, he thought. I may yet come up with a solution to this.

Sleep came slowly that night, but by the following afternoon his mind was set. He walked into the classroom at a fast pace, letting the door slam shut behind him. His students feared him already, but now more than ever he felt the need to bury a certain part of himself more deeply within. Perhaps there was no hiding from Granger’s spell, but it made him feel better to try.

“Open your texts to page one hundred and fifty seven and begin the exercise listed. Do try not to destroy anything in the process. You have exactly forty-five minutes to complete it. Oh, and Miss Granger, see me after class regarding the work you turned in.”

She nodded at his words, a strange look on her face yet again, and went straight into her work. The minutes went by slowly, dreading the conversation that might follow afterwards, but he filled his time with all the ways to deduct points from his students’ houses. Five points from Hufflepuff for a whining student who felt the assigned work too difficult – too bad he hadn’t made his voice equally difficult to hear. Another five were deducted from Ravenclaw for performing the spell badly. Ten from Gryffindor for two particularly stupid students, and even five from Slytherin for casting spells on other students while they should have been doing their assignment.

By the end of class, Snape felt much better, and his students left as quickly as they might from a dragon’s cave. Only one hung around, and when the last of the student’s voices disappeared down the hallway she approached his desk. He was pleasantly surprised at her silence. She was waiting for him to speak for once, rather than launching straight into whatever she might think.

“I have determined, Miss Granger, that the less said about your present difficulty as possible is best at the moment. When all is said and done a punishment must be decided on for what you have done, but for now I will focus merely on the solution. That may take some time, while I research the matter. You are not, under any circumstances, to try to fix this on yourself. You have done harm enough without worsening things.”

“I understand,” she said simply. Whatever else she had on her mind, she kept to herself, and left him to consider what seemed a new side of Miss Granger.