Judging Books By Their Cover

“What is going on with you, Hermione?”

Hermione looked up from her book to see Ron standing next to the table where she was studying. “Keep it down, Ron,” she told him. “You know Madam Pince doesn’t appreciate voices above a whisper. Now what are you talking about?”

Ron gave her a look calling her a liar, although she hadn’t really said anything that was a lie yet. “You have barely said anything to me or Harry the past couple weeks, and I don’t think you’ve been talking to Ginny either. She seems to think it’s because of a boy, but I know that can’t be true. I just want to know what is wrong so I can help.”

“Can’t be true?” She repeated, her eyebrow rising to accentuate the question. “Assuming for the moment that Ginny has a point, why couldn’t it be true?”

“Because, Mione,” he said confidently, “you just aren’t that kind of girl.”

Hermione could have said a lot of things, but her desire to keep her secret kept her temper slightly in check. Silently she closed her book, placed it and her notes in the bag she had with her, and walked away. She had just made into the hallway when she felt a hand grab her shoulder.

“Don’t just walk away,” Ron said when she turned to face him. “We’ve been friends for years. I’m worried.”

“Obviously not,” she told him. “Because obviously it can’t be a boy, which would mean I’m probably just in a weird mood lately. See? Case solved. You can stop worrying. I’m just a bookworm who will learn to value her solitude as she watches her other friends grow up and have boyfriends or girlfriends. I’m not blind, Ron. I know what Ginny said about your, shall we say, lack of experience. I know what has been going on between you and Lavender.”

“So what, you are jealous?”

Hermione stared at him, still not believing her ears. “No, I’m not. I think you and Lavender are perfect for each other, believe me. In fact, you should go find her right now and just snog until you forget all about me. You seem to have no problem doing that normally. I will go on being my unattractive self who no boy would ever want to be with, and I will be just fine.”

“I never said you were unattractive,” Ron said, trying to make up for whatever he said wrong. “You are quite pretty.”

“That’s not what you said,” she told him, pointing her finger at his face. “You said it couldn’t be a boy.”

“Bloody hell, Mione. That’s not what I meant. I just mean I think I’d know if that’s what it was.”

“Of course you would!” she almost yelled, amazed at his genius. Trying to restrain her temper was taking its toll, and Hermione found herself near tears. “As I recall, two years ago you knew automatically about Viktor Krum. That wasn’t a surprise to you at all.”

Turning away once more she felt Ron’s hand on her arm and tried to struggle her way out of his grasp. She was crying then, unable to believe Ron’s lack of sensitivity.

“Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger,” said Severus from behind them, sounding decidedly bored. “As much as it would normally amuse me to see Gryffindors fighting amongst themselves, it is hardly appropriate behavior for the halls.”

Ron let go of her arm abruptly, taking a step back. Not taking his eyes off Severus he said told Hermione they would discuss it later and walked off.

“It seems Weasley has some sense of self preservation,” said Severus, his voice so soft that only she could hear, but his expression stern enough that no one passing by would think anything of it. “I could have crucio’d him for putting his hands on you like that.”

Quickly wiping her tears away, Hermione tried to make her face look as if Severus was making her uncomfortable, although it couldn’t have been further from the truth. “It wasn’t him grabbing my arm that upset me the most.”

“Yes, I heard the last of it. I do wonder though why you have decided to turn your affection towards me when I’m sure you could have Mr. Krum rather easily.”

“Just because I can have something doesn’t mean I want it,” she answered honestly. “Besides, Ron was right about one thing.”

Severus frowned even more severely. “What is that?”

“It’s not a boy that I have a thing for,” she said teasingly. “It’s a man.”

His lips twitched as he fought back a rather boyish grin and the desire to kiss her. “That is true in some respects, Miss Granger. Although I think you bring out the young boy in me.”

“You know,” she said, trying to fight back a smile of her own, “I think I have been a bad girl.”
Severus stared at her, wondering what she was getting at but feeling himself going semi-hard from her wording.

“Have you?”

“Mhm,” she said, moistening her lips with her tongue. “I think I have earned detention tonight.”

He suppressed a groan and was growing increasingly uncomfortable. She had used the wording on purpose, and now his mind was wandering to places it didn’t need to be going when he was standing in the hallway for all to see. His robes might hide the most obvious sign of his arousal, but it was increasingly difficult to maintain a severe and disinterested facial expression. Oh, Hermione would pay for this tonight. “Be at my office at seven for your detention.”

Hermione kept her voice low, but risked a grin. “With pleasure.”

She spent much of her afternoon in study. With all that had happened, she had found herself slipping in her work. It wasn’t that she was behind – that wasn’t something Hermione would permit herself to do. Rather, she just wasn’t as ahead as she was used to, and the realization had shocked her into action. She’d done decently on her OWLs, but refused to allow her NEWTs to get away from her. She’d been disappointed by her “Exceeds Expectations” in Defense Against the Dark Arts and didn’t wish to face similar disappointment again. She sighed. Time was up, and she needed dinner, but she’d only managed to get two weeks worth of Transfiguration reading done and most of the plant descriptions for Herbology memorized. Disappointing for two and a half hours work, but there was always an hour or so before ‘detention’, she supposed.

Dinner was interesting to say the least. Ginny and Harry were both talking to her, though she couldn’t really concentrate on what they were saying. “Hermione,” she heard Harry say as he shook her arm gently.

“Hm? What?” she asked when they finally had her attention.

“I’m going with Ron to get some extra flying practice in,” said Harry, “and Ginny wanted you to study with her.”

“Sure,” Hermione said, “I can for a while at least. I have detention tonight at seven.”

Harry accepted her words and left, but Ginny was looking at her shrewdly. She waited until they were nearly to the library to say anything though. “Detention, Hermione? There is only one professor who has ever wanted to give you detention, and from what I remember there is something going on between you and that professor.”

Hermione stopped in her tracks. “What exactly are you suggesting, Ginny?”

“Oh come off it, ‘Mione,” said Ginny. “I’m not my brother, I’m not going to get angry with you or judge you because of Professor Snape. Yes, Ron told me what happened, but that doesn’t mean I agree with him. That doesn’t mean you should try to lie about it either. I see how you have been acting and I know Snape has something to do with it.”

Feeling her face heat up and knowing she was going slightly red in the face, Hermione led Ginny to a table in a back corner and brought her voice down to a whisper. “And you told him that it was over a boy. How is that supposed to encourage me to trust you?”

“It wasn’t like that,” said Ginny, her voice almost sounding like a whine. “I had to say something, and it was the best I could do without time to think of something better. He was getting too close to the truth with his guesses.”

“How do you know how close he was?” Hermione asked. “You don’t even know what is going on, and it’s certainly nothing as interesting as your vivid imagination seems to think.”

Ginny just stared at her for a moment, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “That does explain the way you’ve been walking today. Like someone who got shagged all night long. By the way, where were you last night?”

“You should have been made Slytherin, do you know that?” Hermione was rewarded with a furious glare, though she didn’t think Ginny was as angry as she was acting. Opening her books to begin study, she tried to choose her words very carefully. “I don’t know yet what is going on. I may have had a good time last night, but I still don’t know what to make of it.”

“So you did have a good time last night?” asked Ginny mischievously. “How good was it?”

“Not now, Ginny,” said Hermione, frustrated. “Let’s get some amount of studying done while we have the time.”

Some time later Hermione packed up her books and made her way to her room to drop her things off before going for detention. Ginny kept her mouth shut about Snape for the rest of their study time, much to Hermione’s relief. Arriving at Severus’ study a couple minutes early, she knocked on the door and heard his muffled invitation to enter. Walking in she saw him at his desk, grading papers which sat in several neat stacks on his desk. She smiled. He’d obviously been at work for awhile. He’d taken off his robe and thrown it over onto the couch, leaving him in his black trousers and a fitted shirt of thick black wool. It made him look so rigid and uncomfortable.

What she had told Ginny was true, she really had no idea what to make of her relationship with Severus. Could it even be called a relationship? She was torn between telling herself it didn’t matter to her and just asking him straight out. Problem was, she knew very well that it did matter to her. She wasn’t the sort of girl who slept around, shagging whoever wanted her and not thinking about consequences. At the same time, she was terrified of asking him. Severus had just begun to open up and relax around her, and Hermione couldn’t bear the idea of losing him because she had pushed things too far too fast.

He looked up from his papers momentarily, smiling at her. “I just want to finish this one, and then I’ll be a good stopping point. Make yourself comfortable.”

She nodded and smiled back at him, walking over to the desk and kissing his neck softly before selecting a book from his library and curling up on the couch. He didn’t keep her waiting long, and soon she felt him sit down beside her and wrap his arm around her waist. “Should I leave you to your book, Hermione?”

His voice was scarcely above a whisper, and spoken it such a low tone that she felt a slight chill go up her spine. That mixed with the feel of his warm breath on her neck was enough to drive any thoughts about the book out of her mind. Closing it and setting it off to the side, she turned and felt his lips on hers. It wasn’t rough, but neither was he gentle. “Missed me?” she asked him with a laugh.

Severus was quiet for a minute before answering. “Yes, Hermione, I suppose I did a little. Is that bad?”

“Perfectly normal, I think,” she told him. “I miss my friends when I don’t see them for awhile. Though we did see each other earlier.”

“Of course,” he said, his eyes going darker and expression going blank.

“Severus? What’s wrong?” Hermione asked, worried. She had said something wrong and knew it, but was at a loss as to how to fix things. He started to stand up but she put her arms around him and pulled him back down. “Why are you angry with me?”

“I have nothing to be angry with you for, Miss Granger,” he said simply. “As a friend I really couldn’t be.”

His words sunk in and Hermione realized how she’d hurt him so carelessly. “Severus, you aren’t just a friend to me. I was thinking about this earlier, and I just... I don’t know how I’m supposed to look at us. I don’t know what you want me to consider you.”

“I’m not foolish enough to think myself to be, shall we say, attractive or charismatic,” he said, refusing to look at her. “I have, however, been foolish in thinking that, for whatever bizarre reason, you didn’t mind. That maybe you could still think of me as a... I was right though. It is wrong to involve myself with a student.”

As a lover. What he had failed to say hung in the air between them, and Hermione was torn as to how to respond.

She tried analyzing the situation, but had never found that overly helpful when dealing with Severus Snape. Sighing, she pushed him back against the couch and moved to sit in his lap, straddling him. She took his face between her hands and kissed him roughly. He didn’t fight her, but neither did he allow himself to respond to her kiss. “Listen to me, Severus,” she told him. “This is nonsense. I do care about you, but I don’t know what you expect me to say to remove your doubts. I’m no fool either. I know that I am just a girl and that you are a grown man who, and don’t try lying to me about this, has been with numerous women who I probably can’t begin to compare to. I might offer some small comfort now, but why should I believe that you will not tire of me?”

“Tire of you?” he repeated slowly. “Why would I tire of you?”

“For the same reason you believe I would have slept with you and yet thought of you as nothing more than a friend,” she answered him with a slight smile.

Hermione felt his hands suddenly grip her hips, pulling her closer to him. One hand made its way up her body until it was to her head, and as Severus moved to kiss her he buried his hand in her hair and wrapped it around his fingers. She felt his need growing, and with every move he made it seemed to be his way of showing her how he felt. Minutes later she had very little clothing left on her, and Snape had muttered several spells in the direction of the doorway to ensure they were not interrupted.

Movement on the couch was awkward, and Hermione found herself moved to the floor, with their cloaks spread out beneath her and Severus between her legs. Last night Severus had taken his time, making sure Hermione was ready for him and enjoyed every minute of it. This time he felt a different need for her, and Hermione gasped as she felt him enter her. She had wanted him, but was just barely ready, and she was acutely aware of every inch of him as he pushed himself inside of her. It was rougher, nearly painful, but there was a pleasure accompanying it that could only be described as exquisite. Once more she began to raise her hips to meet each thrust, digging her nails into his back in an attempt to pull him closer to her. Her response caused him to move faster and harder, wanting her to scream for him. “Mine,” she heard him say before a particularly hard thrust, and as they finished together she could have sworn she saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes.

They lay there and she wrapped her arms around him, knowing that whatever he was feeling he needed to deal with in his own time. “Hermione,” he said finally. “It is late. You should go back before they think there is more to our detentions.”

She nodded in agreement, slowly donning her clothes as she had that morning. Before she left he pulled her to him and whispered gently. “I don’t know what we are either, Hermione. All I know is you’d tire of me long before I could ever tire of you.”