Survival of the Fittest

Glaring at the bedroom door and disregarding the hunger pangs, Severus waited. He ignored his aching muscles – the ones that reminded him that he was only getting older and that it was not a good idea to sleep on any furniture made of wicker. Adjusting the duvet around his waist and scratching his forehead, he winced. His eye had swelled and had turned a purplish blue.

Hogwarts’ librarian packed one hell of a wallop. He was amazed he didn’t have the imprint of the book’s title across his cheek.

After he had collected what remained of his dignity, he had managed to find a blanket. He didn’t dare tread into the bedroom. The temptation was too great – the temptation to take what he wanted, damn the consequences.

The fire had long since extinguished, but the room was warm and full of sunlight. Severus stood up, walked to the door and opened it, expecting a wall of snow. Blinking, he shook his head in disbelief.

There was no snow, no puddles, no frigid blast of air…nothing. The weather bordered on hot. Grinding his teeth, Severus seethed – the lust for revenge against Albus simmering to a boil.

The bedroom door swung open and Hermione walked into the room, oblivious to his presence. Severus cringed. What the hell was she wearing? This had to be some kind of joke. How could she cover her womanly curves with that…that horrible plaid… swimsuit? At least, he assumed it was a swimsuit. It looked like she was wearing a blouse, stockings, and old-fashioned bloomers.

She reminded him of Minerva! Blech!

She shelved the book she had clobbered him with and turned around.

“Oh,” she murmured, “you’re still here.”

Before he could reply, she walked out of the cottage, slamming the door behind her. He wasted no time and stormed into the room, throwing the closet door open to look for his clothes.

“Bloody hell!” groaned Severus as he stared into an empty clothes cupboard. Looking around the room, Severus grumbled under his breath, repeating his mantra of revenge against Dumbledore. The naff heart-shaped bed was made and the rest of the room was immaculate. Where the hell could she have hidden his clothes?

The table near the window had been set for two, but one setting had been disturbed. Unable to resist the hunger pangs any longer, Severus sat at the table and filled his plate with fried eggs and sausages. He watched through the window as Hermione dove into the unusually blue water. She surfaced and started to swim with broad graceful strokes.

Severus grinned. This would definitely explain why her Patronus took the shape of an otter. Hermione floated on the waves, letting them carry her upon their whim. Her implicit trust in the force of nature was reflective of her personality – warm and caring.

Shoving a mouthful of eggs into his mouth, he groaned. What the hell is wrong with me? Miss Granger is anything but warm and caring.

“Bloody nuisance is what she is,” he muttered and shoved a piece of sausage into his mouth.

“She is not without her charm,” a knowing voice affirmed behind him.

The sausage lodged in his throat and his utensils clattered to his plate. Coughing and managing to swallow the sausage, Severus sputtered. “Where (gasp) the bloody (gasp) hell did you come from?”

Albus swept his periwinkle robes into his arm and sat down at the table, which promptly provided an extra plate for the visitor.

“Hogwarts, of course,” the headmaster answered while serving himself. Once he was done selecting his meal, he set the plate on the table and looked at Snape.

“Oh my!” Albus said as he pointed at Severus’ swollen eye. “What happened to you? Are you quite all right?”

Severus stared at the master manipulator of his pain and suffering, who was sitting across the table from him as though nothing were amiss. He’d noticed his injury. Did the old man not recognize his lack of clothing? Did Albus “bloody” Dumbledore really think he would magically fall for the frolicking witch outside?

“Quite all right?” repeated Severus, his voice dripping with venom. “Quite all right?”

Albus chewed his food thoughtfully and stared at him. The ruddy bat wants an answer, does he?

“Did you have some sort of accident?” Dumbledore asked before taking a sip from his goblet.

“You… I… she… I!” Severus slammed his fists on the table, rattling the plates and cutlery. The temptation to strangle Albus festered within.

“Shall I fetch Poppy?” Albus asked. “I suppose I could. I would attend to your injury but I don’t have my wand with me.”

“You… are… barmy,” growled Severus finally as he stood up, clutching the duvet around his waist. He pointed to his swollen eye and cheek. “Your librarian did this to me. She nicked my clothes and accosted me with a book last night. I have yet to find my clothes. The cupboard is empty. There isn’t a stitch of clothing anywhere in this god forsaken place.”

He walked over to the bureau and pulled the drawers out, hopeful that he was wrong. Slamming the doors shut once he realized there was no hope of ever finding his trousers, he railed at Albus. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Run around this island with no clothes on?”

Unperturbed, Albus sipped his tea and said nothing.

“And if you think I’ll ever fancy that…that Gryffindor,” he sputtered, “you have a serious mental impairment!”

Setting his cup down, Albus smiled. It was that blasted serene smile, the one that he would give the students when he was indulging them.

“I will bring some salve for your injury,” the old wizard stated as he stood up and fussed with his robes again. “I will also bring you some clothing posthaste. Please accept my sincerest apologies regarding your…lack of attire. It would appear that the cottage really does have a mind of its own. Undoubtedly, it must think you’re Silis and Hermione is Minerva. This is their honeymoon cottage after all. Silis always did have a penchant for wearing as little as possible.

“Lastly,” he continued as he gazed out the window, “I never said anything about fancying Miss Granger. I merely intended this exercise to teach the both of you to respect one another and possibly become friends.”

Severus clenched his empty fist at his side. The old man was defenseless, surely he would be unable to put up much of a fight as he choked the life from his body.

“Sadly,” Albus continued, turning and motioning to Severus’ swollen eye and cheek, “I see that this may require more time than I had originally anticipated. I shall arrange for substitutes for the library and your class. I’m sure Madam Pince won’t mind covering things while Hermione is…indisposed. Perhaps I’ll cover your classes myself.”

Severus was speechless, the fury within him blinding any rational thought he may have attained during the headmaster’s monologue. He could only watch as Albus walked into the other room. Following him, Severus saw the barmy old bat pull a pouch out of his pocket.

Floo powder! That’s how he is able to come and go as he pleases.

“I suggest you give me some Floo powder,” Severus stated threateningly as he inched closer to fireplace.

Albus peered over his spectacles and stepped into the fireplace. “Or what?”

“I shall tell the Board of Governors what you have done.”

Albus chuckled. “They gave me special dispensation to act as I’ve done.”

“I shall press charges,” Severus stated. “You are aware that what you are doing is highly illegal, are you not?”

Albus shook the Floo powder into his hand, his face glowing with mirth. “My dear boy, I am Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. I’m very aware of the law. Hogwarts, Headmasters office.” He tossed the powder at his feet and green flames engulfed him and carried him away.

Even though he knew better, Severus reached for the fire. The flame jumped angrily at his hand as if in warning. “Bloody fucking hell!” The fire died as quickly as it had sprung to life, seemingly content with the damage it had inflicted on his fingers.

Sucking his fingers, he winced and pulled them out of his mouth, somehow managing to stop himself from kicking the fireplace. The last thing he needed was a broken toe.

--

Arrogant prat! Hermione thought as she floated upon the waves. Feeling the prickle of tears, she shuddered and sighed. There was no way she was going to cry over that foul-tempered ogre. It wasn’t worth the effort.

“Sticks and stones, Professor. Sticks and stones,” she mumbled to herself.

None of this was her fault, but he didn’t give a damn. Blame me for stealing his clothes, will he? Smiling, Hermione laughed mirthlessly. That bloody wanker deserved what he got. He should have been knocked upside the head with a book ages ago, preferably with a big, thick encyclopedia.

Her thoughts did little to assuage the hurt within. He’d made his opinion very clear and any schoolgirl crushes that may have glowed in the embers of her affection were irrevocably doused. No longer wanting to dwell on her current upset, Hermione made for the shore. As she made her way out of the ocean, she saw him.

Severus was sitting on one of two rocking chairs on the porch, one leg crossed over another as he stared out over the ocean. She had to bite her lip to keep from smiling, much less laughing. He’d obviously found some clothes for he was dressed as outlandishly as she was. She’d seen more of him last night than she had cared to see – in all his naked glory. He now wore shorts and a glaringly brilliant Hawaiian shirt. His hair was pulled back and his eye was back to normal.

Hermione approached the porch cautiously, averting her gaze, intent on following her original plan – ignore him and enjoy the tropical vacation. Standing under the shower and pulling the cord to rinse the sea and sand off her body, she gasped when the cold water hit her skin. Arching her neck back and closing her eyes, she hurriedly rinsed her hair.

She probably looked like a drowned rat with her hair all stringy and her blouse and bloomers clinging to her skin. Hopefully, she would be able to find something other than tartan plaid to wear. This swimsuit wasn’t very comfortable. When she opened her eyes, she jerked back. There was a towel mere inches from her face.

“My apologies, Miss Granger,” Severus drawled. “It was not my intent to startle you. I saw that you were in need of a towel.”

Hermione eyed him warily and stepped back. Seven years under his instruction and her time back at Hogwarts had made her leery of him. “Thank you,” she replied stiffly and snatched the towel out of his hand.

“You’re welcome,” Severus said as he walked up the steps, reclaiming his spot in a rocking chair and staring back out at the ocean.

What is he up to? She stood at the bottom of the steps and glared at him. He is not going to rile me. I won’t let him. Besides, I don’t have a book with me.

“I see you finally found something to wear,” she said as humorlessly as she could. It was just too funny. What she wouldn’t give for a camera!

His eyes snapped to hers as if he had just realized he wasn’t alone. She could see the flash of anger in his eyes before he collected himself and forced a smile to his lips.

“This is the headmaster’s humor at its best,” he retorted with dripping sarcasm. “He delivered you some clothing as well. I hope you fared better than I.”

“Dumbledore was here?” she asked excitedly. “What did he say? Where are we? When do we leave? Why –”

“Yes, he was. He gloated mostly. We’re in Minerva’s honeymoon cottage. Not until we learn to get along,” he answered quickly. “I see you haven’t lost your annoying penchant for asking annoying questions and speaking out of turn.”

“And I see you have yet to realize that I am no longer your student,” she spat hotly, walking up the stairs and leaning against the rail. “Your ability to bully and intimidate me is a thing of the past.” She stared at a spot on the wall just over his shoulder, wishing her swimming apparel and hair would dry. She didn’t dare go into the cottage this wet. She’d never forgive herself if she got any of the books wet.

“Nevertheless, we are stranded here until we…learn to be…civil to one another.”

Hermione scoffed.

Severus pounced, jumping up and pinning Hermione against the railing. His breath was hot against her cheek. In vain, she pushed against his chest.

“Perhaps we should try being more than civil since just civil doesn’t appeal to you,” he whispered next to her ear.

She continued struggling against him. Gods, he feels firm. “Let me go,” she hissed.

“Are you sure you want me to do that?” he murmured against her neck. “You’re excited. Your pulse is racing.”

Must remember to breathe, she chanted over and over again as he grabbed hold of her ass and pulled her against him. He pushed his leg between hers and any protest she had died a quick and carefree death.

She could feel his breath once again, caressing the shell of her ear. Slamming her eyes shut, Hermione shuddered.

“A kiss,” he suggested softly. “Would you like me to kiss you, Miss—Hermione?” His words were both question and challenge. Her hands were no longer pushing against him. Instead they were clasping his shirt and pulling him closer.

“Or would you prefer more than a kiss?” His lips danced gently across her cheek.

It was as though he were waiting for her answer. Only when she gave the answer would he give her what she dearly yearned for. All slights, all wrongs in the past dissolved as her fantasies merged with this reality. What would be the harm of one kiss?

“A k-kiss, please,” she stuttered and turned her head, seeking his lips.

Severus chuckled as he pulled away and smoothed his hands down the front of his shirt. “I’d say that would pass as civil toward one another. If you could manage that in front of Dumbledore, we shall be able to end our confinement and go our separate ways.”

Watching him walk away, Hermione felt two things – the heat and the cold. The heat thrummed through her body, begging for more, while the cold surrounded her wounded pride. The arrogant arse!

He looked so self-assured and unaffected by almost kissing her. She was going to get even with him if it was the last thing she did.

Squaring her shoulders, Hermione walked to the door, paused, and turned around. “You want civil? I can manage that and so much more,” she purred, and then walked into the cottage.

*****

A/N – This story would not be possible without JKR. I enjoy borrowing her characters and playing with them. Thanks to my beta-reader, Kathy Rose, and Larilee for encouraging the creative process. The Lexicon rocks!