Giving and Taking

sorry its been a while since this has been updated! i just wrote these last night, so i can\'t vouch for all the grammatical nuances, but they\'ll be fixed soon under more scrutinous revision.

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Hermione and Snape were again awkwardly quiet, just as it had been the first time. Snape slowly let Hermione down and she retrieved her panties from the floor. Neither seemed sure what to say or who should speak first. Snape pulled up his pants and started to mumble incoherently. Hermione put a hand lightly on his shoulder and told him “I won’t tell anyone, I’m sorry, it’s completely my fault”. Snape only managed to shake his head, close his eyes and try again to tell her he was sorry. As she silently left, both of them realized they weren’t sorry in the slightest.



The next three weeks were very difficult for both Hermione and Snape. They tried their best to avoid each other, and he no longer harassed her in class. In return, Hermione stopped participating. She still did her work, but was a silent perfectionist. Again, her teachers noticed and some suggested she visit the hospital wing. Hermione politely refused and blatantly lied that she was concerned about family problems at home. Nobody probed her. Even her closest friends believed her. Harry and Ron tried to make her talk but she refused. After a couple of days, they let it drop. It wasn’t worth their time or their interest. Snape was sulky but quiet. Nobody really cared to ask him what was wrong as his behavior was more or less the same.



It was the night of the annual Halloween dance. All of the students were greatly looking forward to it because it meant frantic dress dropping at Hogsmeade for the girls and the idea of seeing the girls in said dresses for the boys. Hermione had little desire to go to the dance. First, she never had anything to wear and abhorred all clothing shopping. That’s why she loved the concept of a uniform at school; everything was already planned out and ready. Also, and perhaps the biggest reason, Hermione knew she would never get a date. It was not entirely hopeless, but she truly didn’t want to spend the night with some “dorky” underclassmen: she wanted to be with someone more sophisticated. What would have surprised everyone else was that Hermione was actually a fantastic dancer. She took lessons before coming to Hogwarts and rhythm was a language she was fluent in. Her bashful nature prevented anyone from seeing this.



Hermione watched the girls in her dorm get ready. All of them fussed over their hair and makeup. She couldn’t help but be relieved that she didn’t have to deal with any of this craziness. Smiling, she sat down on her bed, tried to be as inconspicuous as possible and, of course, opened a book. Before she could finish two pages, a very bubbly Ginny Weasley bounced on her bed.



“Hermione, Hermione, why aren’t you getting ready like all of us? Where’s your dress? How are you doing your hair?”



Hermione rolled her eyes and explained for the billionth time,



“Ginny, I’m really not up to dancing. I’ve really been worried about this stuff at home and I really just want to take my mind off and relax. I didn’t even buy a dress or have a date or anything”.



But Ginny would not be dissuaded. ‘Her perkiness is a curse’, Hermione thought. Ginny jumped off the bed and started to explain wildly:



“Oh, but Hermione this is your last dance at Hogwarts…ever! You have to stop moping and distract yourself with something enjoyable for once. Who the hell cares if you have a date or not? Sure I’m bringing Harry but they’ll be loads of single guys. Come on, please? I’ll totally make you over and do your hair and everything! Please, please please!!”



Hermione did have to give her points for her persistence. Suddenly, she remembered that there was no way that Professor Snape would be caught dead at some juvenile dance and with this thought, she gave into Ginny. Ginny could not be more pleased. Immediately, she began to look through Hermione’s wardrobe and with a disgusted sigh, announced that Hermione had absolutely nothing to wear.



“Oh Ginny,” Hermione protested, “Some of these dresses are quite lovely! I’ve worn them to various lectures and symphonies!”



“Hermione, this is not one of those occasions. You’re in luck; I have this fantastic dress you’ll look hot in! You may not have a date now, but good luck staying that way when you wear this downstairs!” And in a flash, Ginny ran to her room and returned a minute later. She was clutching an incredibly small black satin dress and matching stilettos. Hermione gasped.

“What’s supposed to hold this dress up?” she asked, noticing the lack of straps anywhere. Ginny just laughed and replied simply, “You are”.



Hermione felt a little bit nervous. It was one thing going out in public in a dress, but another thing going out in a dress like that to dance in. Ginny could see that Hermione was struggling and quickly pulled out a small bottle of firewhiskey and shot glasses.



“Seriously Hermione, it’s now or never. Just go crazy!” With that encouragement, Ginny poured two overflowing shots and thrust one at Hermione. Gingerly, Hermione picked it up. “Oh, what the fuck” and downed the alcohol like a professional that she never knew was. Ginny laughed and downed hers as well. Already, the situation appeared to be more humorous and Hermione even looked forward to all the attention Ginny promised she would receive.



Ginny had already done her own makeup and hair and started at once on Hermione. She combed out Hermione’s hair and added mousse to make the curls extra wavy and voluminous. Forbidding Hermione to look in the mirror at all during this time, Ginny next began to apply the cosmetics. She put dark eye shadow and liner and heavy mascara on to give her eyes a smoky, mysterious look. Hermione was already flushed from the drink, so Ginny didn’t bother with any rouge. Last, Ginny added a deep red, ultra glossy lipstick. The transformation was utterly remarkable. Hermione had the head of a wild partier but still the clothes of a chaste school girl. Hermione begged to look in the mirror because the makeup felt foreign on her face and she wanted to see. Ginny still wouldn’t let her, but did allow her to the decency to change out of her school uniform into the slinky black dress by herself.



Taking off all her clothes, Hermione unzipped the dress and stepped into it. Nervously, she tried to tug it up but it was a little bit tight around her chest. Pissed off at her genetics for being too generous in that area, she turned around and asked Ginny for help. Ginny placed a hand on her back and told Hermione to inhale deeply and not exhale. Slowly, she managed to zipper the dress and made Hermione turn around.



The dress was tight. The curves of her waist were accented magnificently. It reached midthigh in length. In the back, her curvy ass was tightened and it accentuated Hermione’s slim legs and made her creamy skin shine in contrast. The only troublesome part was the front of the dress. It was extremely formfitting and large portion of her chest was spilling out like she was wearing a too-small corset. When she breathed, the effect was even more pronounced. Hermione was embarrassed and Ginny relished this.



“Hermione, you look hot! There isn’t a guy in this school who wouldn’t want to bang you in that. I’ve got to keep Harry away from you!”



Hermione tried to adjust the top but to no avail. Ginny giggled and slipped on her dark red halter dress. Ginny looked sexy but with not the same dramatic statement that Hermione presented. Eagerly, Ginny filled the shot glasses again and Hermione resignedly drank. She felt that wonderful relaxation sink in.



“Ginny” she laughed, “Is it okay that I’m not wearing anything under your dress…I mean not at all?” Ginny smacked her playfully and replied, “You whore, I knew you had it in you”



Hermione started feeling great. Most of it was from the booze but a lot of it came from that repressed side of her finally breaking through. She hadn’t felt like this in three weeks, since the last time her inner sex goddess came roaring out. She slipped on her stilettos, put on some perfume and added a simple silver bracelet. After another shot, Ginny and Hermione walked arm in arm down to the Great Hall.



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In another world, Professor Severus Snape sat lonely in his office. He hated this night of the year more than any other. Everybody made such a big deal about this Halloween dance, including the staff. All of them, especially Dumbledore, loved to dress up and enjoy the revelry. Hagrid had decorated the hall with the typical gigantic pumpkins and the magic sky was bewitched to be full of twinkling stars. He had never been to a dance, not that he ever would admit to wanting to go one. All the guys he knew in school were more interested in what was under the dress whereas he wanted to actually get to know the girl first. It didn’t help that he was vastly unpopular in school. Now, however, the truth was, he was still upset about what happened with Hermione. She hardly thought of him with affection but he did. She encompassed all of his thoughts and he was smitten. He needed the distance because he didn’t trust himself not to grab her and throw her into his bed. He hated himself for it but couldn’t stop his mind. Other times, he was perfectly content with watching her prowess in the classroom, by slipping furtive glances at her.



“Forget it,” he told himself, “she’s upstairs, not even thinking about you, probably dancing with some boy because that’s what she should be doing. You’re sick, this needs to stop Severus”. But it didn’t. The very idea of her dancing, even touching another boy made him boil with jealousy. Hating this night more than he ever had, Snape grabbed a huge stack of papers and dejectedly began to grade them.



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As soon as Hermione and Ginny tottered into the Great Hall, Harry and Ron were there to greet them. Both stood flabbergasted at the transformation of their bookworm, quiet friend. Ginny even had to grab Harry and whirl him around to look at her. Ron could not stop, to him, she was the most sexy woman he had ever seen. He forgot about all the girls he had ever seen. Tonight, he wanted Hermione. Too bad she didn’t feel remotely the same way, but decided to play along.



“Jeez Hermione, you look gorgeous” Ron stuttered. “Wow, what did you do to yourself?” Hermione gave a drunken laugh and told him that Ginny was fully responsible for the transformation. “Wanna dance?” Ron faltered. Laughing, Hermione obliged and they made their way to the rest of the dance. People began whispering as they passed, completely transfixed by the metamorphosis of Hermione. Nobody could comprehend that Miss Know-it-all had become Miss Show-it-all. Hermione pretended to ignore all of the attention but secretly indulged in it. This was a first for her. They got to the dance floor and Hermione threw her arms around Ron’s neck and Ron put his around her waist. It was pure fun, and Hermione didn’t worry about talking or school, she simply just felt the music and channeled her inner rhythm.



“Hermione, you can really dance” exclaimed an excited Ron. He couldn’t help stare at her body that moved so fluidly. It was amazing that she could move so well in a dress so tight. Other boys from various Houses kept trying to cut in and Hermione let them. Ron begrudgingly was shoved aside and he sat down at a nearby table. Hermione bathed in the spotlight and danced her troubles away. She couldn’t hear what people were saying about her, she just felt the music and alcohol coursing through her body.



After a while, Hermione finally noticed that Ron had sat down. She made her way over to him and sat beside him.



“What’s wrong?” she shouted, over the music. With out waiting for a reply, Hermione pulled a small flask out of her bag and took a large swig of it. She put her head on Ron’s shoulder, not caring if she was leading him on or not. Ron replied,



“You Hermione, I just don’t get you. You’re supposed to be all smart and sensible, I can’t see you like this, this isn’t you”



Hermione drunkenly turned her head to him “What do you mean this isn’t me? Good girls can have fun too. Your sister helped me out and I can’t be thankful enough. I needed this. What, am I just supposed to spend all my time in the library taking notes while everyone else gets to have fun?”



“’Mione, what I mean is that I don’t understand you. You yell at me for looking at girls, then you go all out and dress like a slut. You’re a hypocrite, I tell ya”



Even drunk, Hermione understood that. She stood up, steadied herself and slapped him hard across the face. “I’m not a slut. This was part of me all along. If you ever cared to get to know me” And with that retort, Hermione came to a sudden realization. She did know somebody all along who knew her. Both sides of her. Clutching her bag, she spun out of the Great Hall. People were whispering but nobody chased her. She chugged the rest of her firewhiskey and made her way down to the dungeons.