A Turn for the Better

Chapter 42 ~ Ending the Night

The ball ended, and Severus and Hermione escorted the Grangers home, Apparating with them to Muggle London. As they walked across the Hogwarts grounds, wands lit, John Granger asked Hermione to join her mother because he wished to talk to the professor alone. Hermione did so, looking back at the two men nervously as they walked side by side, Snape with his hands behind his back, listening as her father gesticulated.

"What do you suppose they are talking about, mum?" Hermione asked her mother, who glanced over her shoulder at the two, then gave her a slight smile.

"What do you think, Hermione?" she asked her daughter.

Hermione blinked in the light of her wand.

"Me?" she asked softly.

"Right in one, Hermione. Most likely your father is setting down the rules, so to speak," Jean said as Hermione clasped her hand to her face.

"Oh mum, he's probably telling him not to touch me until I'm at least thirty," Hermione whined.

Jean chuckled.

"Hermione, your father isn't that naïve. He's probably just getting the measure of your professor's motives," her mother said.

"Motives?" Hermione repeated.

"Yes. If this is just a fling, or is he working toward something lasting," she said softly.

"Oh mum, no!" Hermione hissed, starting to turn around. Jean caught her by the arm.

"Let them talk, Hermione. This is a 'man' moment," she told her daughter.

Hermione walked beside her mother, feeling as if the entire world was about to end. Her father wasn't very strong in the tact area. He could be insulting Professor Snape at this very moment. But the two men talked in low tones all the way to the gate, then joined them outside, Snape taking Jean's arm and Hermione, her father's.

They Disapparated to Muggle London. Snape bowed to Mrs. Granger and shook Mr. Granger's hand firmly. Hermione kissed both her parents good-bye.

"Get my little girl back to the castle safely, Severus," Mr. Granger said to the pale wizard, his eyes glinting just a bit with something unsaid.

Snape nodded.

"Have no worries, John. I will escort her to Gryffindor tower myself," he promised.

"Good show," John said, "and good night to both of you."

"It was a wonderful night," Jean piped in, smiling at both of them.

"Yes," John said, looking down at his wife with a bit of a smirk. "And it's not over."

Jean blushed as John swung his arm around her shoulder and solicitously escorted her into the house. They heard a giggle as the door closed, Hermione smiling after them.

Snape arched an eyebrow at the closed door then turned to Hermione, who was looking at him curiously.

"John?" she inquired.

Snape smirked.

"Heart to heart talks have ways of breaking down boundaries, Hermione," he said to her softly as he took her arm. "Now, let me get you back to Hogwarts."

With that, they Disapparated.

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"What did you and my father talk about?" Hermione asked the wizard as they walked arm and arm back towards the castle.

"A bit of this, and a bit of that," Snape said obliquely.

"You talked about me, didn't you?" she asked him directly.

Snape looked at her.

"Yes," he said softly, "among other things. Your father loves you very much. He knows of our attraction to each other, and he wanted to get the gist of things."

Hermione looked down at the ground a moment, disturbed that her father knew what was going on more than she did.

"And did you tell him?" she asked him.

"I told him what I could," Snape replied softly, "I'm not a seer. I have no idea what is ahead for us until it occurs. He settled for what I hoped would happen over time."

"And, what is it you hope will happen?" Hermione asked him.

His arm tightened around hers.

"I don't want to jinx it," he replied with a slight grin. Hermione held her wand up closer to his face and the wizard looked straight ahead.

"That's no kind of an answer," she said a bit angrily.

"It's all I can offer at the moment. Now come along. I have to get you back to Gryffindor tower," he said to her.

Hermione walked with him, struggling with her emotions. She had graduated now, and was no longer a student of Hogwarts. All she had in Gryffindor house were her things, which she'd be taking home tomorrow. She would be gone a full week, then would return to accompany Snape to meet the other Potions masters.

Then her apprenticeship would begin.

But there was no reason she had to go back to Gryffindor tower tonight.

None at all.

They entered the Entrance Hall and Snape started walking her toward the main stairwell, when Hermione stopped, refusing to go any further. Snape looked down at her.

"What's wrong, Hermione," he asked her.

Hermione's heart felt as if it were skipping beats as she steeled herself to tell him what was on her mind.

"I don't want to go to Gryffindor tower, Professor. I want to go with you, to your rooms," she said softly. "There's no excuse now. I've graduated. I can be with you. I want to be with you."

Snape looked down at her, his eyes softening.

"I'm no longer that impatient, randy young wizard you met all those years ago, Hermione. I'm not about to pounce on you just because I can," he told her gently. "There's something to be said for restraint. It makes things . . . better in the end."

Hermione frowned at him.

"Restraint? That's all we've been showing for the past several months, Professor . . . Restraint. I feel as if it's my middle name. No more restraint. I . . . I want to know . . . not to just . . . remember," she told him.

Snape's expression looked strained for a moment. Hermione pounced.

"Look, the way to the dungeons is right there . . . we just have to go down the stairs . . ." she said to him, her eyes glistening.

"Dear gods," the professor breathed, then resolutely he began pulling her up the marble staircase.

"No. This isn't fair," she said to the wizard, whose jaw was tightly clamped with determination as he pulled her along.

Hermione began to struggle, holding him back. He turned to her, his dark eyes glinting.

"All right," he growled through clenched teeth. "I see in order to keep my promise to your father, I'm going to have to do this the hard way."

Hermione let out a squeal as Snape reached down and grabbed her, slinging her over his shoulder and stalking up the stairs as she kicked her legs.

"Put me down!" Hermione cried, outraged as Snape smirked.

This was rather fun.

Snape walked up the narrow stairwell that led to the second floor and the shifting stairwells, Hermione grabbing hold of the edge of every wall to stop him, and Snape tearing her hands away.

"You're quite the little spitfire," the wizard said as they mounted the first set of shifting stairs, Hermione still kicking.

"What promise to my father?" she finally asked him, calming, her legs dangling.

Snape was quiet for a moment.

"My promise that I wouldn't take advantage of you upon our return to the castle," he said softly, "and that I would take you directly back to Gryffindor tower. I gave him my word I would."

"You wouldn't be taking advantage of me," Hermione said, "I want to be with you. How can you take advantage of someone who wants to be taken advantage of? It's simply a matter of doing what's requested of you."

"Oh, it wouldn't be that simple, I assure you, Hermione," the wizard said thickly. "Besides, we still have the Meeting of the Masters. After that, when you are settled into your rooms and your role as my apprentice, we can deal with the other matters between us."

"That's going to take forever," Hermione said, her voice cracking with disappointment as Snape changed stairwells.

Snape put her down, and took both her hands.

"Listen to me, Hermione. We have other matters to take care of, matters that right now, occupy much of my mind. When the time is right for us, I want my mind clear . . . and my focus . . ."

The wizard paused, gently running his hand down her cheek, Hermione trembling at the contact.

". . . to be solely upon you," he finished.

"But . . . but . . ." Hermione said, shaking her head.

"Just be patient a little while longer, Hermione," he said to her, "it's an important ability to develop. Patience. A sign of maturity."

Hermione blinked up at him and what her father said came back to her. That Severus Snape was not a boy and concessions would have to be made if she hoped to have a relationship with him. She didn't want him to see her as a child, and she had to admit . . . she was acting like one. But it was so hard not to say what she wanted to say and do what she wanted to do with him after waiting for so long.

But she had to try to be patient as he asked.

"All right, Professor," she said softly, taking his arm again.

Severus nodded at her soberly and said, "You should start calling me Severus, Hermione. Our teacher/student association is over, although . . . you will call me Master as well."

Both of Hermione's eyebrows rose at this. Master? He wanted her to call him "Master?"

She'd heard about things like this . . .

"Because you will be my apprentice," Snape added hastily, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. The bit of heat in her eyes already suggested she was thinking impure thoughts. They started back up the landing, Hermione letting him lead her along.

They made it to the seventh floor and walked down the corridor.

On the stairwell below, Neville was riding up, looking dreamy, a smile plastered to his face. He had just come back from escorting Luna back to Ravenclaw, but they had taken a little detour at Luna's urging and spent a few minutes snogging.

He loved kissing Luna, and apparently the witch loved kissing him . . . and touching him as well. She made him feel so . . . so . . . he couldn't describe it, but he was sure he was in love with her. Very much so. Still, she was still sixteen and he didn't pressure her for anything other than the occasional kiss. He enjoyed her company and the sense of closeness he felt when he was with her. Of course, he wanted to be closer, but Neville had very cut and dry ideas of what was proper when courting a witch. He would make no move toward intimacy until Luna was of age and was ready to go further.

Besides, the anticipation was delicious.

He hummed a few strains of the waltz they first danced to as he changed staircases, then headed down the corridor toward Gryffindor house.

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Snape and Hermione arrived at the sleeping portrait of the Fat Lady. They had been among the last to leave the ball, so by the time they returned, the halls were basically clear, although one could be sure graduates were scattered all about the castle in hiding places, finishing their night in each others' arms.

"Well, here you are, safe and sound," Snape said to the witch. "You were lovely tonight, Hermione . . . but then again, you are always lovely to me . . . even without . . . the warpaint."

"Warpaint? I hardly have on any makeup at all!" Hermione snapped at him.

Snape smirked. Hermione had spirit and he liked that she wasn't afraid to stand up to him. That was important in a relationship.

"The hour is late, it's time for you to retire," he said to the witch softly.

Hermione blinked up at him.

"At least a kiss?" she asked him softly. "One kiss at the end of the night? Or is that too much to ask of you?"

Already the hurt was apparent in her eyes. Snape looked down at her. Well, they were right in front of her house. He supposed he could allow himself one chaste kiss. Anything more would be playing with fire. She had no idea how hard it was for him not to take that left down to the dungeons with her.

"No, it's not, Hermione," he said, drawing her into his arms, and gently pressing his lips to hers. It was like molten fire where their mouths connected. Electric, stirring, both he and Hermione caught in the storm.

At last . . . some connection, some physical contact.

Snape gathered Hermione in his arms, trying not to crush her as the urge to get closer washed over him. He could have never taken her to his rooms and left her unscathed.

Hermione's entire body seemed to try to merge with the wizard holding her, kissing her, longing and desire rushing over her in a torrent. Gods, how could she be patient? How could he? Not when he made her feel like this.

They might have gone on kissing forever, except for the gasp behind them. Snape broke the kiss, his head turning and black eyes glittering as he released the panting witch.

Neville stood there, red and slightly greenish around the gills as he stared at the couple.

Snape looked back at Hermione, then lifted her hand and kissed it.

"Good night, Hermione," he said softly, a bit glad Neville had arrived when he did.

"Good night," Hermione replied, lowering her hand reluctantly and watching the wizard stride away.

"Good night, Mr. Longbottom," Snape said to the stricken Gryffindor as he passed him.

"G – good night, sir," Neville stammered, watching him walk down the hall and then turning to look at a dreamy-eyed Hermione, who had a little smile plastered to her face.

He walked up to her scowling.

"I told you I never wanted to see that!" he exclaimed.

Hermione snapped out of her dream-like state and scowled back at him.

"Shut up, Neville!" she said, punching him in the arm. "Let's just go to bed."

Neville woke up the Fat Lady and gave her the password, letting Hermione enter first, then following her up the short corridor.

"After seeing you two snog, I don't think I'll ever eat anything again," he groused, holding his stomach as Hermione smirked naughtily.

It had been quite a night.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.