Kiss The Serpent

Disclaimer: Not mine...I only wish...Promise to give them back to JKR when I'm done. No money being made...again, I wish.


Chapter 5 Tuesday

The second lesson on Tuesday was Potions. Hermione was terrified to face Professor Snape across a classroom after she had taken such liberties with him.

As she approached the dungeons, her anxiety rose. How could she possibly act as though nothing had happened? She was feeling so transparent she might have been a ghost. There was no way she was going to be able to conceal the fact that there was something ‘going on’. Harry and Ron would notice, at the very least.

The air in the dungeon corridors was cool.

“Well well… hello Mudblood,” Draco Malfoy blocked her way. “All alone are we? Not very clever. Everyone else is in class already. Looks like you are going to be late.”

“Let me pass.” Her voice was calm, though her eyes flicked from side to side looking for help. They were halfway along the corridor to the Potions classroom, not far from Snape’s office, though he was likely in class already just waiting to deduct points from her for every second she was late.

“Oh no, I don’t think so. If we were to stroll in, say, five minutes late and I told the Professor you held me up, who knows what he might do to the Gryffindor house points. Won’t make you very popular, will it?” he sneered. “Oh, but then I forgot, you are already unpopular. Must be sad having only Potty and the Weasel for company. Still I’m sure you compensate them for having to put up with you.”

Hermione didn’t like his tone. “You have precisely three seconds to move out of my way or you will be requiring Madam Pomfrey’s services for the next month…IF they can find all the bits of you, that is.”

“Temper, temper. I’m not afraid of you, you little bitch. You’ll get yours, wait and see.” With a shove he pushed her against the stone wall, its rough surface dug painfully into her back, while his wiry frame pressed hard against her. “And I’ll be there, cheering.”

Hermione wished she had pulled her wand out sooner. She was suddenly aware just how vulnerable she was. With her arms pinned she couldn’t even punch him, though she desperately wished to. Panic rose in her chest, to be swiftly followed by revulsion as Draco swept an insulting hand over her left breast. His grin was feral.

“Fraternisation in the corridors is forbidden,” snapped a voice from the shadows.

Hermione’s rigid body slumped with relief.

Professor Snape had materialized in the hallway and stood glaring them.

Draco stepped away casually, releasing Hermione with an arrogant shrug. She looked at her teacher with relief in her cinnamon eyes.

“Get to class, Mr Malfoy,” Snape directed, not looking at her.

“Certainly sir, as soon as I wash my hands.” He grimaced at his hands as though they’d been contaminated. Hermione glared at him and went to move towards the classroom.

“Not you, Miss Granger.”

Draco grinned maliciously at Hermione as he sauntered off to class. His grin said clearly that she was going to be the one losing the house points.

Snape moved to where Hermione had stopped. There was ice in his voice. “You will not attend my class. You will report immediately to the Headmaster.”

Her brow furrowed in consternation. He couldn’t think that… She should never have kissed him. He clearly hated her now. She opened her mouth to object, but was cut off.

“Now, Miss Granger.”

With a small huff, she shouldered her bag and reversed direction, heading for Professor Dumbledore’s office instead. Bastard, she fumed silently. Some things never change.

It took ten minutes to reach the Gargoyle guarding the Headmaster’s stairwell. It jumped aside as soon as she said her name. Apparently she was expected.

“Ah, Miss Granger, thank you so much for coming,” she was greeted by kind eyes and a warm smile.

Hermione twisted the handle on her bag anxiously. “Professor Snape sent me, Headmaster. I think he’s kicked me out of Potions…but I’m not sure.”

“Not at all, my dear. I asked for you to be sent to me in lieu of your class with Severus. Circumstances being what they are, we must maintain appearances and we can’t have you being a student under your fiancé’s care, now can we?” he said. “Now, come in and we’ll have a little chat.”

*********

That afternoon found Hermione slumped over her books at a table in the Gryffindor common room, only half listening to Harry sound off about Malfoy. Ron was in the far corner, wiping the floor with Neville in their fourth straight game of Wizard’s chess.

Malfoy had enchanted a bit of string to behave like a snake. It spent the morning trying to wrap itself around Harry’s ankles in between worshipful bowing and hissing. If any teacher walked by, the string became limp, so no one but Potter was the wiser. The Slytherins laughed at ‘Lord Potter’ wherever he went, until he blasted the string with an Incendio and reduced it to ashes.

Harry and Draco just couldn’t leave each other alone. When Malfoy was around, Harry acted like the little snot barely existed, but once out of earshot it was ‘Malfoy this…’ and ‘Malfoy that…’ It was disturbing.

“Harry,” Hermione interrupted, looking up from her books, “you used to ignore Malfoy a lot better than this. Why are you so obsessed with him this year?”

Harry stopped mid-rant. “Obsessed? Who says I’m obsessed? I just—“

“Oh come on! It used to be out of sight, out of mind with Malfoy. Now he is all you talk about.” Hermione grinned archly. “Anyone would think you fancied him.”

It was supposed to be a joke, the type of joke they used to throw at her if she mentioned anyone more than twice, but Hermione watched in astonishment as Harry began to blush furiously.

“What is this? Of course I don’t fancy him. What a stupid thing to say! Next you’ll be telling me that I—“

“Calm down, Harry, it was a joke,” she chided, “you know - a humorous anecdote or remark intended to provoke laughter.”

“Well, it wasn’t very funny.” Harry was roughly packing up his books. “I’m going for a walk.”

Ten seconds later he was gone, leaving Hermione slightly shell-shocked. What on earth was that about? Harry used to be the first person to see the joke in things. Perhaps she would ask Ron. He would know if there was something going on that she didn’t know about.

She returned her attention to her Arithmancy equations, but thoughts of Harry niggled away in the back of her brain making it impossible to concentrate.

Sighing, she pushed the book closed and gazed out the Common Room window. Speaking of fancying people, she wondered what her inestimable fiancé was doing. Did I say fancy? I meant…um, nothing. She still couldn’t believe she had kissed him.

Hermione’s mind was awhirl with questions. She had not been able to banish the remembered sensation of his kiss and was more than half revolted by the fact that she had actually enjoyed it. Who would have thought such a vitriolic mouth might taste so good—

Hermione froze. This was a task assigned to her by the Order of the Phoenix to save a man’s life. This was no time to get emotional. Her talk with Dumbledore had been enlightening and she was no longer mad at Snape. He had let Malfoy get away with pawing her in public, but then, no one was supposed to know that there was anything between them, so he couldn’t exactly play her rescuer. She was grateful he had appeared when he did, otherwise who knows what would have happened. She shuddered at the thought. If only he hadn’t been so cold about it. How on earth does one befriend an iceberg?

With a small huff, she opened her Arithmancy book again and applied herself frantically to the contents. She determined not to think on Harry or Sever…Professor Snape anymore. She had homework to do.


*********

“Headmaster, I really don’t know how to do this!” Severus was uncomfortably aware of the number of times he had said this in the past few days.

“Nonsense, Severus. A little bit of kindness and an open mind is all you need. Have you given her flowers yet?” Albus evidently thought that was a good place to start.

Severus shook his head, shuddering slightly. “She said we didn’t need to do those things.” The relief was evident in his voice.

“Ah! You see, she understands you better than you think. She is already trying to give you what she thinks you want, and is evidently doing a good job of it.”

Severus looked at the old man thoughtfully. Is that what she was doing? Was she letting him ‘off the hook’ because she knew he was uncomfortable? The thought disturbed him.

“And so, what have you done instead?” Albus asked.

Severus groaned. “Nothing! The girl talks incessantly. She wants to discuss every tiny detail of my life. I feel like I am a specimen up for dissection.” He leaned heavily against the mantelpiece. ”And I am not completely convinced that she is sane.”

Albus looked at him in surprise. “What makes you say that?”

Severus mumbled something, scowling heavily.

“What was that? My hearing isn’t quite what it used to be.”

Severus glared at the Headmaster. Your hearing is perfectly fine, old man. You just want your pound of flesh.

“She kissed me,” he gritted again, louder this time.

Albus smiled delightedly. “Excellent! I am so glad that one of you is on the right track. You have a lot to gain from this, my boy, if you handle it correctly.”

Severus sighed deeply. “What should I do?”

“Do something for her that you think SHE might enjoy.”

“But I don’t know what—“

“Can you tell me anything about Miss Granger at all?” Albus interrupted.

“She is highly opinionated, extremely strong-willed, too intelligent for her own good, bossy, bad-tempered…”

Albus’ eyes were positively dancing with merriment as he shook his head. “Severus, I think you have missed my point. What activities would Miss Granger enjoy, do you think, based upon the type of person she is?”

Severus thought hard for several minutes before answering. “She likes books.”

“Indeed she does. Anything else?”

“She might like puzzles, if her solving of my logic puzzle in her First Year is anything to go by. So, she might enjoy games of strategy too.”

“Very good. All you have to do now is decide how you can put that knowledge into something more practical. And don’t worry, my boy, you will get better at this…with practice. By the way, have you started calling her ‘Hermione’ yet?”

Severus began to grind his teeth.

He left the Headmaster’s office more confused than when he had entered. He was supposed to do things that Miss Granger would find enjoyable so that he could believably demonstrate to the Dark Lord that the young witch was receptive to him. What he didn’t understand was why it was all so important.

His mind was still reeling from that kiss. Regardless of her motivation in doing it, it had affected him. He felt ridiculous, fixating on something that was likely of little consequence to her, but the memory burned him still. He resisted the urge to readjust his trousers. That brief moment had changed everything. She was no longer a school girl in his mind; she had taken on a woman’s form and lure. He found himself wondering what other surprises she had in store for him.

Bah! I have better things to do than play fancy’s fool with the girl.

He stalked silently back to the dungeons to check on the potion brewing in his private laboratory. Potions were relatively predictable, unlike women.


**********

A knock at the dungeon door was an unwelcome intrusion.

“Enter.” He couldn’t contain his impatience.

“Hello.”

He resisted the urge to wince. It was her, the precise source of the problem that had been spinning around in his brain for most of the day.

She came in, closing the door behind her. His office was dimly lit. A few of the candle sconces were alight, but the fireplace was cold. Hermione hated Professor Snape’s office. The walls were always half in shadow. Everywhere there were jars and bottles filled with all sorts of unspeakable things. She was always careful not to look too closely. Behind the Professor’s desk was a wall of potions in different coloured vials, each labeled in his spidery hand.

“I’ve seen the Headmaster,” Hermione told him, wrenching her gaze away from a beaker of green liquid containing a frog’s corpse.

“I hope he made more sense than when I saw him this afternoon,” he muttered bitterly, scribbling furiously on the essay he was marking.

Hermione frowned. Raising her chin, she told him the reason why she had come.

“He suggested I take some time off from classes this week so that we might continue our conversation from yesterday. Of course there is no need for me to miss lessons,” she shrugged, “but we still need to decide on what memories we need to build to make You-Know-Who believe you rather than Mr Malfoy.”

Severus put the essays aside. She always managed to cut right to the heart of things. It was true - he did need to build ‘memories’ to discredit anything Lucius might come up with. He was slightly embarrassed at how dismissive he had been of her. Despite his impatience and coldness here she was, still persisting in the attempt to discredit this wretched prophesy. She was either incredibly stupid or incredibly decent. Somehow, he knew she wasn’t stupid.

The memory of her kiss arose unbidden and his body tightened in response.

Hermione looked worried when he stood and pointed towards the door. He realised she thought he was ejecting her so he moved to hold the door open for her before leading her deeper into the dungeons. They walked down corridors that Hermione had never needed to explore before today, until they came to a stone statue. Severus tapped the stone wizard’s head and muttered the password. The heavy stone scraped aside revealing the entrance to some hidden rooms. His chambers. Hermione’s face revealed her nervousness as she followed him in.

The chambers were a complete contrast to the slimy contents of his cold and unwelcoming office. The wall sconces surged to life as they entered, and the fire burned merrily in the grate. They were in a small sitting room containing two armchairs positioned either side of a polished wooden table, directly in front of the fire. In the corner of the room was an antique writing desk, currently buried under several columns of books. The walls were covered in wood paneling…at least the bits of wall that one could see. Every available space was covered by bookshelves that reached to the high ceilings.

Severus watched as she looked around his quarters. He observed the delight on her face as she took in the vast number of books on his shelves. There was a lifetime’s collection of books here, including several tomes that would never be found in the Hogwarts Library. From the look on her face, it was her version of heaven.

He also noticed her eyeing his bedroom door with apprehension.

For a brief moment, he considered inviting her into his bedroom. The memory of a forced act of intimacy would be sufficient to satisfy both Lucius and the Dark Lord. Then he looked at her again and his sense of honour won. For some bizarre reason, the girl trusted him. Not only trusted, but was prepared to do what no other woman had ever done. She wasn’t screaming or crying about it. Nor had she demanded anything of him or of the Order. She wasn’t even treating it like a chore. Severus was baffled. Slytherins never do anything for nothing.

The chairs before the fire were waiting. With a swish of his wand, there was tea and biscuits on the table, then he sat in one armchair and waited.

“Your rooms are beautiful,” she said at last as she joined him by the fire.

He said nothing, but a small measure of tension left him. The enchanted tea service was pouring two cups of tea. He handed her one of them. The milk jug and sugar bowl hovered nearby. When she held out her cup, both cheerfully added their contents until she said “enough” and they bobbed merrily back to the tray.

Nervously she sipped the hot liquid. It burned her mouth and the cup rattled in the saucer as she replaced it.

As she always did when she was nervous, Hermione started to talk. She admired his library and asked him about some of the books she had noticed. Severus’ answers were courteous but brief leaving Hermione to fill the silences herself.

She rattled on, divulging tidbits of information about herself, and sharing funny stories, unperturbed if he answered or not. Despite himself, Severus was captivated. He had never met a student who hadn’t either hated or feared him. Now he sat in his own quarters, sharing a cup of tea and listening to this young woman make amusing small talk.

She reached for a biscuit and dipped it in her tea. Her hands were sure and delicate. They were tiny hands, in fact. She had reached her adult height but still stood at least 6 inches shorter than him. Her petite frame made him feel big in comparison, which was a pleasant change from feeling scrawny in comparison to many wizards he knew, despite his height.

The Slytherin in him realised that by aligning herself with him, she had a great deal to lose, whilst he was gaining everything. He also realised that Hermione Granger was anything but boring. She had a quick wit to match her intellect. Her flaws were the product of youth and time alone would cure those.

She sipped her tea while she talked, her voice low pitched and husky. With her friends, she had an open, warm-sounding laugh that was very pleasant to his ear. He wondered if he would ever hear that laugh for himself.

It had bothered him to see young Malfoy harassing her in the dungeons that morning and he was strangely pleased at how relieved she was to see him. The urge to tear the arrogant brat away from her had been strong, and he wondered when exactly he had become protective of the silly girl.

When he had sent her away, she had looked hurt and angry, yet she hadn’t questioned him about it. Apparently she understood his actions, which he found incredible. People happily believed the worst of him, and yet she continually gave him the benefit of the doubt. She continued to amaze him. He suppressed the desire to explain himself to her.

It occurred to him that they might have many nights like this after they were married.

Married. Severus scowled darkly. She wasn’t choosing to marry him. It was her stupid loyalty to Albus and the Order… and that Potter brat. His position as spy kept Potter safe. Hermione would do anything to protect the boy – even marry a man twice her age.

*******

Hermione saw the scowl return to his face and realised she was probably boring him to death. She trailed off into silence, and put down her teacup.

“It’s getting late, Severus.” The clock on the wall was pointing to ‘almost curfew’. HE had finally stopped wincing when she used his name, though he was yet to use hers. “May we continue this tomorrow? I still have some things I need to do before I go to bed.”

“Of course. Perhaps you might be interested in a game of chess next time?”

“Wizards Chess?” she asked, slightly horrified. She had never liked the violence in the game.

“You are under no obligation, Miss Granger.” So much for Albus’ brilliant advice.

“Oh no, I love chess, it’s just that I’m still not used to the violence of Wizards Chess,” she explained. “I have a Muggle chess set, if you like.”

“No need for that. I suppose I can ask my set to tone down its antics for one session since you have such a weak stomach.”

“Thank you, but I should warn you I’m not particularly good. I’ve never once beaten Ron. Although that might be because I get distracted by the pieces belting each other to smithereens,” she admitted. “Maybe with less distraction I might even win.”

He raised one eyebrow in challenge. “An inexperienced Gryffindor has a lot to learn about Slytherin tactics. Perhaps I’ll let you win, just to appease you. It would be the gentlemanly thing to do, I’m sure.”

“Oh really?” she asked. “You’re just saying that to save face if I DO win.”

“You’ll never know, Miss Granger.”

Severus stood up, and opened the door for her. A mischievous impulse took hold of her as she left. At the door she paused and planted a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Good night, Severus,” she whispered. Before he could either speak or pull away, she darted through the door and down the dimly lit corridor.

She walked to Gryffindor Tower wondering when exactly she had taken leave of her senses. Perhaps she had a death wish. She was playing with fire - Professor Snape was not a man to be played with or teased like she would her friends…or was he? Maybe that is exactly what he was missing from his life. Perhaps it was her job to help him loosen up and have some fun. It was worth thinking about.

Severus, on the other hand, stood motionless for several minutes in the open doorway staring into the darkness that had swallowed Hermione’s vanishing form. His brain wasn’t working at all.

That’s twice, he thought slowly as he moved back into the room, closing the door behind him. That was twice she had kissed him. If she wasn’t crazy then she must be a darn good actress. The scent of vanilla soap still lingered in the air. Except Gryffindors are hopeless liars so there must be another reason.

How odd.


************

A/N: Thank you for your wonderful reviews. I find them very helpful and encouraging. Hope this satisfied the request for more SS POV.
Please R&R!