Hogwarts Online
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
14
Views:
4,583
Reviews:
39
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
14
Views:
4,583
Reviews:
39
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.
That's Who!
*
DISCLAIMER: i own nothing; standard disclaimers apply.
*
Hermione stepped out of the room and half ran downstairs. She flopped into one of the chairs, drew her wand out from her sleeve, pointed it to the fireplace, and said “Incendio,” lighting the fireplace. Her hands were shaking slightly and she hoped she could get herself under control before Snape made it downstairs. It had been roughly two years since she had seen him, the last time was at the one-year-after celebration.
‘He really does look good,’ she thought as a wry smile played on her lips. She spent many years in his class in awe of his skill and talent, though in fear of his sharp tongue. Her seventh year, spending months working with him, gave her a small insight into the man behind the scowl. When he was deep in thought, deep in the work, his entire countenance took on a different look. He appeared less imposing, but nonetheless regal. She had always tried to emulate that grace and confidence he seemed to have.
Back then, he had been so tired, so worn out, she had noticed. She was more than happy to help in any way she could. She knew that an end to the war meant an end to his torment. During her stays at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, she heard the stories of what he went through on a weekly basis to just bring back scraps of information for the Order, and she herself had had a taste of that torment during Christmas break her 7th year. A taste was all she needed to really understand the taciturn man they knew; to actually see him as a man rather than just the mean old potions master.
No one knew about what happened to her that Christmas except for her parents, Poppy Pomfrey, and Albus Dumbledore. Telling Harry and Ron would have caused them to run off and do something incredibly stupid, and as far as she was concerned, no on else had a need to know. She didn’t even like thinking about being… there. It was bad enough that she relived it at night, in her dreams.
She shook her head to clear those melancholy thoughts, and brought herself back to present. Would he like to dine in tonight or would he prefer to dine out? That was the question on her mind. She had prepared shepherd’s pie and biscuits earlier that day. The pie and biscuits could hold until tomorrow. They were prepped but not cooked yet and would only take about 20 minutes in the oven. Then again, they could have that tomorrow, so they could easily break for dinner during lab time. ‘Would he be averse to going out with me?’ she thought idly. She wondered if he’d ever been to a muggle restaurant.
She lifted her glasses off her nose and up onto her head, her book forgotten in the entrance hall, and thought up a list of places they could go eat locally if he should approve the idea of going out. Staring pensively at the fire as it danced in the grate, she didn’t notice him enter the room.
Snape looked at Hermione, her skin glowing by the firelight. He wondered how he was going to make it through the next several weeks. He seriously prayed that Potter and Weasley wouldn’t be making any visits during his time here.
After deciding she was definitely woolgathering, Snape cleared his throat to get her attention.
“Oh, I’m sorry professor. Internal debate is all. Allow me to give you a quick tour,” she said and once again smiled at him, reassuringly. Inside, her heart was beating all that much faster. She was so worried about having to teach this man.
‘She doesn’t seem to be threatened or put out by me being here,’ he thought. He wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.
“As I’m sure you can see, this is my book storage room,” she said wryly, “though most of my potions’ texts are downstairs in the lab.”
He followed as she led him through a small doorway into a living room. There was a straight lined couch and matching armchairs in grey, flanked by black end tables. A matching coffee table sat in front of the couch on a red area rug. Directly across from the couch was a fairly large entertainment center. The living room opened up into a small dining area with a small table and four chairs, separated from the kitchen by a counter. The kitchen was clean and decently sized with adequate counter room.
“This is the hub of the house,” she continued. He followed her finger as she pointed things out. “Television and stereo, dining area, kitchen, and there’s a telephone on the counter there. The fireplace is on the floo network, should you need it, but I often call out for take-away and the local Thai delivery place doesn’t have a fireplace,” she finished and tossed him a small wink at her joke.
“You have a lovely home, Miss Granger,” and he honestly meant it. It wasn’t flowery feminine, but more a good mix of feminine and masculine, and definitely in his taste of minimalism. He casually wondered if a man ever lived here, but thought it bad form to ask.
“Thank you, sir, and didn’t I already say to call me Hermione?” she lifted an eyebrow at him. “It’s been so long that I’ve been addressed formally, that I’m afraid I probably wouldn’t respond to Miss Granger quickly enough.”
“Very well, Hermione. I suppose you could drop the Professor and sir and call me Severus.”
“Thank you, Severus. Allow me to show you to the lab. You could drop off your supplies, which I’m assuming you’re carting around there,” she nodded at his satchel.
He nodded, and she led the way to a door at the opposite end of the kitchen. The door led downstairs to a basement room. The floors were white tile and the walls were clean white. It was well lit with muggle electricity, but wasn’t overly harsh like some of those electric lamps can be. There were two work stations, each about one and a half meters long, with a selection of cauldrons and tools stored underneath on shelves. There were two deep sinks side by side against one wall and several book shelves full of potions texts on another. On the third wall were large floor to ceiling cupboard doors that expanded the length of the entire wall that Snape assumed held supplies. Hermione went to stand between to two work benches, which showed there was ample room for two to walk through and not be in each other’s way.
“Which side would you prefer, Prof, er, Severus? I added a second work bench with supplies so we wouldn’t be fighting over space should we both end up down here at the same time.” She looked at him expectantly, waiting for the snarky response she was expecting. She was shocked by what she did get.
“I’d prefer this one,” he said, nodding to the table on the right, “if that is ok with you. My own lab requires a right turn, so I’d probably gravitate to that side. And you really needn’t have gone through all of this trouble.” Even though he said it, he was glad she had. He couldn’t imagine having to work at one table should they both end up down here. He was also surprised that had continued work in potions. He hadn’t heard of her working anywhere in the wizarding world, and made a note to ask her about that later. In fact, it had seemed that she had dropped off the face of the planet all together after the war, with the few exceptions of seeing her at celebrations they were required to attend those years ago.
“No problem at all. I thought we could go out to dinner this evening? Maybe take some time to discuss a workable schedule, between your web design lessons and lab time.”
“That sounds… acceptable, Hermione.” And with his face as impassive as ever, not giving Hermione a clue as to what he was really thinking, he opened the lab door and motioned for her to precede him out.
*
DISCLAIMER: i own nothing; standard disclaimers apply.
*
Hermione stepped out of the room and half ran downstairs. She flopped into one of the chairs, drew her wand out from her sleeve, pointed it to the fireplace, and said “Incendio,” lighting the fireplace. Her hands were shaking slightly and she hoped she could get herself under control before Snape made it downstairs. It had been roughly two years since she had seen him, the last time was at the one-year-after celebration.
‘He really does look good,’ she thought as a wry smile played on her lips. She spent many years in his class in awe of his skill and talent, though in fear of his sharp tongue. Her seventh year, spending months working with him, gave her a small insight into the man behind the scowl. When he was deep in thought, deep in the work, his entire countenance took on a different look. He appeared less imposing, but nonetheless regal. She had always tried to emulate that grace and confidence he seemed to have.
Back then, he had been so tired, so worn out, she had noticed. She was more than happy to help in any way she could. She knew that an end to the war meant an end to his torment. During her stays at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, she heard the stories of what he went through on a weekly basis to just bring back scraps of information for the Order, and she herself had had a taste of that torment during Christmas break her 7th year. A taste was all she needed to really understand the taciturn man they knew; to actually see him as a man rather than just the mean old potions master.
No one knew about what happened to her that Christmas except for her parents, Poppy Pomfrey, and Albus Dumbledore. Telling Harry and Ron would have caused them to run off and do something incredibly stupid, and as far as she was concerned, no on else had a need to know. She didn’t even like thinking about being… there. It was bad enough that she relived it at night, in her dreams.
She shook her head to clear those melancholy thoughts, and brought herself back to present. Would he like to dine in tonight or would he prefer to dine out? That was the question on her mind. She had prepared shepherd’s pie and biscuits earlier that day. The pie and biscuits could hold until tomorrow. They were prepped but not cooked yet and would only take about 20 minutes in the oven. Then again, they could have that tomorrow, so they could easily break for dinner during lab time. ‘Would he be averse to going out with me?’ she thought idly. She wondered if he’d ever been to a muggle restaurant.
She lifted her glasses off her nose and up onto her head, her book forgotten in the entrance hall, and thought up a list of places they could go eat locally if he should approve the idea of going out. Staring pensively at the fire as it danced in the grate, she didn’t notice him enter the room.
Snape looked at Hermione, her skin glowing by the firelight. He wondered how he was going to make it through the next several weeks. He seriously prayed that Potter and Weasley wouldn’t be making any visits during his time here.
After deciding she was definitely woolgathering, Snape cleared his throat to get her attention.
“Oh, I’m sorry professor. Internal debate is all. Allow me to give you a quick tour,” she said and once again smiled at him, reassuringly. Inside, her heart was beating all that much faster. She was so worried about having to teach this man.
‘She doesn’t seem to be threatened or put out by me being here,’ he thought. He wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.
“As I’m sure you can see, this is my book storage room,” she said wryly, “though most of my potions’ texts are downstairs in the lab.”
He followed as she led him through a small doorway into a living room. There was a straight lined couch and matching armchairs in grey, flanked by black end tables. A matching coffee table sat in front of the couch on a red area rug. Directly across from the couch was a fairly large entertainment center. The living room opened up into a small dining area with a small table and four chairs, separated from the kitchen by a counter. The kitchen was clean and decently sized with adequate counter room.
“This is the hub of the house,” she continued. He followed her finger as she pointed things out. “Television and stereo, dining area, kitchen, and there’s a telephone on the counter there. The fireplace is on the floo network, should you need it, but I often call out for take-away and the local Thai delivery place doesn’t have a fireplace,” she finished and tossed him a small wink at her joke.
“You have a lovely home, Miss Granger,” and he honestly meant it. It wasn’t flowery feminine, but more a good mix of feminine and masculine, and definitely in his taste of minimalism. He casually wondered if a man ever lived here, but thought it bad form to ask.
“Thank you, sir, and didn’t I already say to call me Hermione?” she lifted an eyebrow at him. “It’s been so long that I’ve been addressed formally, that I’m afraid I probably wouldn’t respond to Miss Granger quickly enough.”
“Very well, Hermione. I suppose you could drop the Professor and sir and call me Severus.”
“Thank you, Severus. Allow me to show you to the lab. You could drop off your supplies, which I’m assuming you’re carting around there,” she nodded at his satchel.
He nodded, and she led the way to a door at the opposite end of the kitchen. The door led downstairs to a basement room. The floors were white tile and the walls were clean white. It was well lit with muggle electricity, but wasn’t overly harsh like some of those electric lamps can be. There were two work stations, each about one and a half meters long, with a selection of cauldrons and tools stored underneath on shelves. There were two deep sinks side by side against one wall and several book shelves full of potions texts on another. On the third wall were large floor to ceiling cupboard doors that expanded the length of the entire wall that Snape assumed held supplies. Hermione went to stand between to two work benches, which showed there was ample room for two to walk through and not be in each other’s way.
“Which side would you prefer, Prof, er, Severus? I added a second work bench with supplies so we wouldn’t be fighting over space should we both end up down here at the same time.” She looked at him expectantly, waiting for the snarky response she was expecting. She was shocked by what she did get.
“I’d prefer this one,” he said, nodding to the table on the right, “if that is ok with you. My own lab requires a right turn, so I’d probably gravitate to that side. And you really needn’t have gone through all of this trouble.” Even though he said it, he was glad she had. He couldn’t imagine having to work at one table should they both end up down here. He was also surprised that had continued work in potions. He hadn’t heard of her working anywhere in the wizarding world, and made a note to ask her about that later. In fact, it had seemed that she had dropped off the face of the planet all together after the war, with the few exceptions of seeing her at celebrations they were required to attend those years ago.
“No problem at all. I thought we could go out to dinner this evening? Maybe take some time to discuss a workable schedule, between your web design lessons and lab time.”
“That sounds… acceptable, Hermione.” And with his face as impassive as ever, not giving Hermione a clue as to what he was really thinking, he opened the lab door and motioned for her to precede him out.
*