A Room in the Dungeons

Okay dokey, here's the next chapter. I think it'll be the last before Hermione is old enough to satisfy every one (especially Snape, hahahahahaha *wipes tear of mirth*) I can't decide whether I'm happy enough with this chapter. If anyone doesn't like it, review, I'll rewrite it and then there's no need to get nasty and rate it badly :( Anyway, enjoy

Snape turned to a small kitchen-like corner in his lounge room and began making himself coffee and toast. Hermione's stomach growled and she remembered she hadn't eaten since breakfast yesterday. Snape sighed and turned back to her awkwardly.
“I suppose you probably want something to eat...” He gestured to the meagre supplies in front of him.
“Um...well, if it's not too much trouble.” Buttering his own toast, Snape tossed a couple more slices in the toaster and poured another cup of coffee.
“How do you take it?” Hermione smiled a little, it was obvious from his awkward attempt at hospitality that Snape didn't entertain much.
“White, one sugar, and honey on the toast...please.” Snape complied, carefully spreading the toast with honey and cutting it. He handed her the plate and cup and gestured towards a small table with one chair, Hermione felt a stab of pity, wondering for the first time if he was lonely. Snape pulled an armchair up to the table and balanced stiffly on the edge, ignoring Hermione though they were seated directly across from each other. Hermione finished her toast and began sipping her coffee. She thought maybe her professor would be in a better mood now he'd eaten and hesitantly tried her hand at conversation.
“How did you become a teacher, sir?” Hermione was genuinely interested, Snape was talented enough to reach the top of many other professions.
“It's not a pleasant tale miss Granger. I'd rather not talk about it.” Hermione nodded, the dismissal stung a little. Snape finished his breakfast in silence and pushed the armchair back to its original position beside a large book case. He pulled out a book and began to read while Hermione sat at the table unsure of what to do. Snape glanced at the girl, looking odd sitting at his table in a formal, silk dress.
“You can read a book if you'd like, just be careful with them.” Hermione started at his voice, but nodded and made her way to the bookcase. She settled on the couch, still covered in blankets, and began to read. She looked more normal now, and Snape wished she had something to wear other than that damn dress. They sat, reading in silence, for hours. Hermione finished the book and sat thinking of the ball last night and of Viktor. She dug herself into a pit of depression, as teenagers tend to do, thinking of all the things in her life that were unsatisfactory. Snape tired of his book, and noticed the change in Hermione's demeanor. More out of boredom than genuine concern, Snape lightly eased into Hermione's mind. Not wanting to give away his presence he merely sat and watched the thoughts flowing through her mind from a distance. There was a great deal about some boy with round shoulders and a thick accent, then some more painful things about those idiot boys she hung around with. He was surprised that flashes of anger and sadness were entwined in these memories, it was obvious that Hermione was sick of being unsure whether the two saw her as a girl, or even as a friend and not just someone who helped them scrape through classes. Snape realised she was genuinely lonely and with a flashback to his teenage years felt a stab of sympathy. Snape shook himself and erased the last thought nervously, trying to turn the sympathy into pity. He sighed and couldn't help but feel the need to console her. She'd moved onto thoughts of self-hate over her appearance and personality.
“You're not ugly, Granger, and you're not boring.” Hermione looked up, startled, and Snape tried to look indifferent, returning to his book and added, “Though you are an insufferable know-it-all and have a terrible tendency of falling asleep in other people's bed.” Hermione smiled, a little perplexed. A compliment? Maybe Snape wasn't as horrible as he seemed.
“Thank you professor.” Snape ignored her and intently pretended to read his book. Hermione continued smiling until she realised he'd known what she'd been thinking. She remembered a particularly terrible lesson with Professor Moody on Occlumency, and with a gasp realised what Snape had being doing. She opened her mouth angrily, though of course knowing what she was going to say, Snape got there first.
“You can't expect me to sit here and do nothing Granger, I believe it is quite firmly your fault that we are stuck in this mess.” Hermione flushed angrily, thought back to the lesson, and expelled him from her mind.
“It's bad manners to go into someone else's mind without permission, sir.” Snape, rather than being furious looked a little puzzled and a little impressed.
“How did you do that?” Snape kept his tone carefully casual, unwilling to betray his surprise.
“Professor Moody taught us...sir.” Hermione was angry he'd been her mind while she'd been thinking about Viktor and her friends.
“It was a...relatively good effort.” Hermione felt a surge of pride, and recognised the impressed look in Snape's eyes.
“Thank you.” Hermione tried to hide a smile.
“I can teach you to control it a little better, if you wish.” Hermione's jaw dropped, it was an opportunity too good to miss.
“Sure...” Snape beckoned for her to approach his chair, and without warning he attempted to break through her mind. Hermione gasped in surprise and pushed him out with great effort. Snape smiled and with great effort on his part, congratulated her. They spent an hour honing her skills, until she could shield herself without thinking. They sat over coffee, discussing several books and articles the two had both read. Hermione couldn't believe that the sarcastic professor was becoming animated while talking, and while in debates over small points the sardonic look would appear in his eyes, it was almost pleasant when in context with the rest of his personality. They had began talking about Hermione's future and she felt all her dreams and aspirations pour out of her. Embarrassed, she expected him to sneer, but instead he nodded and began discussing ways to fulfill them. Suddenly the door swung open, and there stood a rather flustered Professor McGonagall, wand out and a pile of furniture behind her.
“Snape, I don't know what you've done to that damn Peeves, but I'm getting a little tired of having to clear half the castle's furniture every time I need to visit.” She froze as she stepped forward and saw Hermione and Snape at the table, coffees in hand.
“Good afternoon, Minerva, thank you for clearing my doorway.”
“You're welcome, Severus, but may I ask as to why a student is having coffee with you in your private quarters.” Hermione flushed, wondering if Snape was going to tell McGonagall the whole embarrassing story. Not batting an eyelid Snape shrugged.
“Miss Granger chose an unfortunate time to come and speak with me about some career aspirations of hers, and Peeves blocked the doorway while we were discussing it, I think she'll be glad to get back to her dormitory.” Hermione almost groaned as she thought of all the flaws in the story, and tried to shift herself so her dress looked less obviously formal. She gasped as she realised she was wearing a close imitation to what she normally wore, though she noticed with a suppressed smile that the jeans were much less tight than her usual ones and the shirt almost strangled her the neckline was so high.
“Of course. Sorry to shoo you out miss Granger, but I need to talk to professor Snape.” Hermione nodded and left, scooping up her shoes, now transfigured into sensible, flat sandals.
“Goodbye professor McGonagall, and thank you for your advice Professor Snape.” She caught a hint of warmth in Snape's returned smile, and felt a little dizzy as she made her way up the corridor. She couldn't stop replaying the memories from the room, his laugh and the feel of his arms around her, and a warm, fuzzy feeling filled her stomach. She laughed as she remembered him in his little black boxers, and felt a stir in the pit of her stomach. Blood rushed to her cheeks and she stifled a groan as she realised that, stupidly, she was attracted to her professor.