Blood, Sex, Love, Magic

Hermione sat at the kitchen table in the Burrow and smiled at the scene around her. Fred and George were ‘helping’ Molly with the dishes, but as she washed them and placed them on the drainer, Fred dried them and slipped each clean plate behind her back to his brother, who then put them back on the pile to wash. Ron and Harry sat at the table concentrating on the game of chess they had just started, while Arthur frowned over a Muggle crossword puzzle.



Letting her mind drift, Hermione was acutely aware that this was likely to be her last Christmas here. She had no idea what her future would bring, but it was doubtful she would be back at The Burrow any time soon. In her room sat a tightly scrolled parchment which contained her study schedule for the new term. She hadn’t looked at it yet. In fact, she had been trying hard not to even think about it, because to think about that would mean having to think about the moment she had received it from Professor Snape. Her face flushed, and she was grateful when Ginny distracted her by landing in the seat beside her and flinging her arm over her shoulders.



‘Sickle for your thoughts?’ she beamed at her. Ginny was full of the joys of the festive season, now that the war was over and she had Harry back for good, and Hermione found her enthusiasm touching.



‘You really don’t want to know,’ she replied.



Ron grinned at her. ‘She’s thinking about school of course. It’s all she ever thinks about, isn’t it?



‘It’s not school for me any more, Ron. This is my apprenticeship, my future. And I wasn’t thinking about that, actually.’ Hermione stared back at Ron indignantly.



‘So if it wasn’t school, what else had you looking so dreamy?’ Ginny wasn’t going to give up.



‘I don’t want to talk about it in front of them,’ she whispered into Ginny’s ear.



‘Oooh!’ Her friend squealed so loudly that Fred and George tired of their sport and turned to listen. ‘It’s a boy!’



‘What’s this?’ said George, sitting down beside Hermione and nudging her. ‘You’re having a baby? Didn’t know you were that sort of girl.’



‘Yeh, ’Mione. If I’d know you were that keen, I’d have let you have first choice before Angie.’ Fred slouched against the fireplace and let a slow, laviscious grin spread across his face.



Ginny scowled at her brothers and pulled Hermione up by her elbow. ‘Idiots. I meant it’s about a boy. C’mon Hermione.’ Hermione felt her face burning red as another round of raucous comments flew between the twins and the sound of a plaintive Ron followed her up the stairs.



‘But Hermione’s not interested in boys…’ he said pathetically.



***



In Ginny’s room, Hermione grabbed a large, squashy blue cushion and curled herself around it, slipping off her shoes and tucking her feet beneath her. Ginny ensconced herself at the other end of the bed. Her slim legs were clad in an old pair of Hermione’s jeans, and she stretched out lazily. She looked at Hermione and giggled slightly.



‘It’s not really a boy, is it?’ she said quietly.



‘No, it’s not.’ Hermione took a deep breath. ‘Ginny, have you noticed anything different about Professor Snape?’



‘Snape? Let me think. He’s grouchy, ugly and greasy, marches about like the world owes him a favour… nope. He’s no different!’ She laughed.



‘Well, he’s being different with me,’ she said, her brow creasing.



‘Well, maybe he has to be now that you’re going to be working for him?’ Ginny started to plait her hair idly.



‘It started before that, but he was really weird when he told me I’d got my place. It creeped me out a bit, to be honest,’ she said.



‘Merlin... What happened?’ Ginny sat forward and forgot about her hair, suddenly rapt.



‘Well, I was in the library,’ she began.



‘Of course…’ Ginny interrupted with a grin.



‘Ha ha…’ Hermione laughed. ‘Seriously, it was so odd. I was reading a book in the restricted section. I thought it would be good to do some advance research on my project, just in case I did get the apprenticeship, you know what I mean?’ Hermione caught Ginny’s eyes as they widened slightly. ‘Sorry, right… I’ll get to the point. I didn’t even hear him arrive, Gin, and suddenly I looked up and he was standing right over me. I could swear, Gin, he had his eyes closed and he… well, he looked like he was sniffing me!’ Hermione looked at her friend beseechingly.



‘That’s so gross. Are you sure?’ Ginny’s lip curled in distaste.



‘Well, I could be wrong, but I think I’ve seen him do it before. At my interview.’



Hermione slumped back against the wall and hugged the cushion tighter.



Ginny started to laugh. ‘That’s it then. You got the apprenticeship because you smell great and Malfoy stinks!’



Hermione couldn’t help but grin. ‘Don’t be silly. It wasn’t the only thing, Gin.’ She bit her lip.



‘Well, go on…’ Ginny nudged her.



‘He smiled at me.’ She closed her eyes, fully aware that her face was burning and that Ginny was probably gaping at her like a hungry fish.



The memory of Snape’s smile was the one she had tried to ignore the most. Not because it wasn’t a nice experience; far from it. And that was the problem. Snape smiled, and it lit up his face, transforming him into Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. She hadn’t been able to resist smiling back, and they had stood for more than a few seconds grinning at each other like fools, until Hermione had grabbed her scroll and ducked past him out of the library.



Hermione opened her eyes and found Ginny looking at her curiously. ‘What?’



‘I was just wondering what he sees in you, that’s all.’ She grinned cheekily.



‘What are you on about?’ Hermione was not up to speed on the hidden language of females.



‘Well, it makes total sense. Snape fancies you, of course.’ Ginny started to laugh.



‘Shut up.’ Hermione laughed and threw the cushion at her, and the conversation was suddenly forgotten in the midst of a pillow fight.



***



Back at Hogwarts, Snape was not having anywhere near as much fun. The snow had finally arrived, covering the grounds like a thick white duvet. Dumbledore had insisted they go walking together to enjoy the sparkling scenery and the crisp fresh air. Snape trudged along beside him, his hands thrust deep inside the pockets of his thick travelling cloak, as he waited for him to get to the point. Things were still a tad strained between them, and he assumed this was Dumbledore’s way of generating an opportunity for informal conversation. However, Severus was feeling less than inclined to make the first move, so they walked for a good fifteen minutes in silence, until they reached the edge of the Great Lake. The surface was frozen, and Dumbledore used his wand to melt the ice.



‘The giant squid likes to surface occasionally. I do what I can to help,’ he said amiably.



‘Indeed,’ Severus murmured through tight lips.



‘Oh, Severus.’ Dumbledore turned to him and placed a hand on his arm. ‘I was hard on you, my boy. I had no knowledge of your circumstances… I am so sorry.’



‘What are you babbling about now?’ Severus shook off Dumbledore’s hand impatiently and walked away to stare out across the lake.



‘You know of Gabriel Thantos, Severus?’ Dumbledore stood shoulder to shoulder and followed his gaze as he spoke.



‘I have heard of him, of course. He is a contemporary of Nikolai,’ he replied, turning to look at Dumbledore curiously. ‘What of him?’



‘He and I are friends, although I have not shared his company for some time. I apologise, Severus, but I needed guidance. I know little of the ways of your people, and my own resources were less than helpful. I wrote to him. In confidence, you understand.’ Dumbledore’s shoulders slumped as if resigned for a verbal onslaught.



‘He was enlightening, I take it?’ Severus snorted under his breath. Of course, Dumbledore would explore any avenue to protect his students from the resident vampire. He should have anticipated it.



‘Severus, what do you know of The Calling?’ Albus asked him.



Severus frowned. ‘The term means nothing to me.’



‘I thought as much,’ Albus sighed. ‘Come back to the castle Severus. I think you need to read this for yourself.’



***



Hermione lay in bed listening to the soft huff of Ginny’s breathing as the younger girl slept. She replayed their conversation, and her internal dialogue argued with itself.



Of course Snape must fancy me; that must be why he’s being so… different, and well, quite nice. For Snape.



That’s just ridiculous! He’s twenty years older than me, and he’s my teacher. He’s never really liked me, so why would he be interested now?



Not that it mattered either way. Hermione had never thought about any of her professors in that way, especially not Snape. Granted, she had thought Lockhart was cute, until she realised what a fraud he was. His smile had been false along, she thought ruefully. Not like Professor Snape’s.



Like a tennis match, her thoughts went back and forth until she exhausted herself. She finally fell asleep thinking of Snape’s smile and the way his nostrils flared as he inhaled her.



***



The view from the Astronomy Tower was quite something, especially so on nights like this. The moon illuminated everything with a subdued silver glow, and the snow bounced the light around, creating shadows and vistas that undulated and moved. It seemed so unreal. Severus gazed across to the Forbidden Forest, where a Thestral rose above the tree tops and flicked its wing, shaking snow from the branches of a near by fir tree and making the it stand out starkly.



Shuddering, he wrapped his cloak about him and adjusted his position. The window alcoves provided less than comfortable seating, but he didn’t bother with a cushioning charm. He wanted to feel everything. A blast of icy wind hit him, and his hair whipped about his face. Shaking his head irritably, it fell back into place, and he leaned back against the cold, stone wall.



He wanted to curse Albus for meddling, but he couldn’t find it in him. In a way, the old man had done him a favour, not that he would ever tell him that. But his news changed everything, and for the first time in a very long time, Severus was sickened by his own heritage.



He had hoped his growing attraction to Granger was normal. Well, normal in that he was male and she, most definitely, female. He had hoped that with careful planning and subtle seduction, he could convince her that being with him would be a very good idea indeed. Better, he was hoping to convince her that the idea was all hers. But now, the realisation that his feelings towards her were an innate response to his Strigoi genes made the whole thing less appealing. He would not be false with her or force her against her will, regardless of his base desires. He was not his father.



A well of emotion exploded from him as he thought of Hermione’s smile, and his thoughts became a muddle as his mother’s face swam before him, haggard and gaunt, her eyes pale and empty. He growled in frustration and cast his eyes towards the stars above him.



‘I am not my father,’ he muttered.