Goodnight, Demon Slayer

Goodnight, Demon Slayer
Chapter Five:
Ever Considered Being A Mime?

After she had rushed out of his rooms, Severus very much doubted that the long trip to London would be a pleasant one. He and Hermione had barely spoken since that day except in her Potions final when he had berated her once again for helping her friends. It had been very hard to keep up the appearance of being in love while the supposed object of your affection was pouting and about to complain about House Points being taken away and Gryffindor discrimination and all that.

No, Severus decided. It probably would not be a very pleasant trip at all.

There had been much discussion as to whether they would apparate or take the train, but in the end no matter how special Hermione Granger was, she would not be allowed to test for her apparation license early. Therefore, it was with a heavy heart and a feeling rather akin to nausea that Severus Snape- Potions Master, Death Eater, Double Agent, and Greasy Git dropped his bags in the entrance hall, searching out his young companion amidst the throng of students who were overly annoying on this dtheitheir last of the school year. Normally the last day of the term was when Severus was at his finest- noisy, rowdy children with cabin fever always allowed him to be showcased in all of his sharp-tongued, points-deducting glory, but this year he felt no desire to do anything of the sort. It would not stop them from making noise and acting like the stupid teenagers they were, and he knew- he REMEMBERED- that things would only get worse on the train.

The Hogwarts Express had never been a particular favorite of Severus'. Besides being singled out and never having anyone to sit with (or worse, being crammed into the general "unsavory" compartment with the other losers), he became violently motion sick when traveling by any means other than apparating. This had long been a cause of disappointment to Severus' father who had pinned all hope of having a famous Quidditch player for a son on young Severus' shoulders. He dearly hoped that he would not have to expose Hermione to his stomach's volatile nature, but as the mere thought of the train's bustling and jostling took over his psyche, he felt his insides lurch, his eyes lose focus, and he hiccupped as he swayed slightly.

He was beginning to really regret his choice to not petition the Ministy for Hermione's right to test early. In the future he may hto lto let go of his personal I-hate-Know-It-Alls grudges in the interest of keeping his lunch where he had placed it for safe keeping.

Closing his eyes and leaning against the wall, Severus prayed silently but fervently that it would all be over quickly, knowing full well today was only the beginning of what would no doubt prove to be an endless summer. And not the happy Beach Boys kind of endless summer, either.

Catching a glimpse of Severus standing against the wall on the opposite side of the room, Hermione frowned. She had known this would happen. Why on earth had she spent so much time and effort picking out the perfect shirt for him if he wasn’t going to wear it? But there he was in all of his snarky glory wearing his Batman costume- full robes even though it was almost near boiling temperature outside. Sighing heavily, she approached him with every intention of saying something, but as she neared he held up his hand in a silencing gesture.

“I will change on the train.”

But the argument... er... conversation which normally would have followed was headed off at the pass as Severus quickly pulled her backward into his arms, holding her posessively. Hemione had been confused, but she immediately understood his actions as she saw Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy, and Pansy Parkinson walk past them, staring daggers at the pair. With her inner bitch taking over, Hermione gently loosened Severus’ death grip and turned in his arms to face him. Gently, she cupped his face in one small hand and pulled him toward her, kissing him sweetly. Severus was surprised but irritatingly unwilling to break the contact. In fact, he was almost (but not quite) shocked to feel his body switch to autopilot as he ran one hand through her unceasingly messy hair and hesitantly parted her lips with his tongue. Hermione let out a tiny moan as he did so and as their tongues met, she arched her body into him, loving every single tiny sensation the contact with his body gave her (but never ever willing to admit it to anyone). Neither of them would ever be sure exactly how long the kiss lasted, but in that time every other mouth in the entrance hall had stopped working as the out of control din that had been threatening to make Severus’ ears bleed just seconds before had completely silenced.

Funny thing, neither Severus nor Hermione even seemed to notice.

“Ahem.”

Both Herm and and Severus whirled toward the source of the stern throat-clearing to face the Headmaster.

“Now Severus,” he began softly. Back to himself, Severus shot dangerous glares at the students gaping at him, and luckily most of the student body had sprung to life, not wanting to feel the wrath of an embarrassed PotionsMaster. Most were actually leaving for the thestrals as Hagrid was desperately trying to make them do, but some were standing gossiping and pointing at the embarrassed couple being scolded by the Headmaster. “If you were a student I would have to deduct House Points for such a public display,” concluded Dumbledore, that mischievous twinkle ever-present in his eyes.

“Of course, Headmaster. Just keeping up appearances,” Severus sputtered, obviously humiliated. He had never even been caught making out by a prefect when he ws a student, and now he was acting as foolishly as a Hufflepuff with extra-strength hormones. Then again, he had never had the opportunity to be caught making out during his time at Hogwarts. One of the occupational hazards of being the class reject. Hermione, however, was obviusly amused by the situation and giggled a little. Breaking free of Severus’ arms, she collected her bags.

“We’ll be more careful next time, sir,” promised Hermione.

“I’m sure you will be, my dear,” replied Dumbledore, beaming at her and sending an exaggerated wink her way.

No. That couldn’t be right. Was Dumbledore really egging her on? Eew.

She had no time to contemplate this matter, though as Severus had taken her by the elbow and was leading her out of the castle at break-neck speed. Due to his sallow complexion it was hard to notice the red creeping across his cheeks, but Hermione had spent enough time around him to see that he was mortified, though whether due to the kiss itself or being caught, she did not know.

She hoped it was the latter.

“Oh, and Severus?” called Dumbledore.

“Yes, Headmaster?”

“Do treat her well. After all, we don’t want our Head Girl to start her term completely exhausted and worn out.”

Hermione immediately felt sick, and Severus began to drag her more quickly (if that was even possible), a look of sheer panic on his face. Once inside the coach Hermione tried several times to speak but every time she was stopped dead in her tracks by one of Severus’ warning glares. In fact, the two never spoke until after Severus had secured them in a private compartment aboard the Hogwarts Express and had pulled the shade over the window looking out into the hallway of the train.

“Don’t do that!” Hermione exclaimed, horrified. “Everyone will think we’re… you know!”

“Would you prefer them to know the truth?” Severus spat. “Shall I just offer you up to Draco Malfoy now?”

Hermione sat down in a seat opposite of where Severus was standing and slumped dejectedly. It was odd, but that simple defeated gesture saddened Severus more than he would acknowledge. He had never seen Hermione defeated or pessimistic, and it was not pleasant to witness.

“No. I just- I mean… The Headmaster was thinking about me having sex!” Severus glared at her icily for several beats before cracking a smile. He had been entirely afraid that she had taken issue with the thought of having sex with him, not just that the Headmaster had been thinking about her having sex at all. But now that she had mentioned it...

“Yes,” he agreed. “That was quite unsettling.”

“No, you don’t understand!” she cried emphatically, waving her arms to the sio mao make her point. “He was thinking about me having sex which meant he was thinking about me naked! And that is one of the grossest things I could ever imagine! Dumbledore thinking about me naked!”

Severus supposed it would only be right to comfort her at that time, but somehow he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. She was so damned cute when she was flustered! The best thing to do, in Severus' opinion, would be to rattle her even further.

“Not necessarily,” drawled the Potions Master, arms folded across his chest in the way that made him look like a gigantic bat. Hermione looked confused for a moment, and then looked just plain miserable.

“What?”

Severus could have laughed out loud at the pained expression on her face as realization dawned, but instead he decided to make her squirm a bit longer, answering the question he knew she'd just answered for herself.

“Well, you don’t need to be completely naked to have sex.”

Yeah, he could have imagined bending you over a table in the Potions lab and taking you while you were still in your cute little virginal uniform, Severus thought. Oh, wait. That was me, not Dumbledore.

Hermione regarded him blankly for several moments before finally uttering a simple, heartfelt “Eew.” Severus was about to respond but was interrupted by the sudden first lurch of the train.

Immediately falling into a seat and turning green, Severus hung his head as Hermione rushed to his side.

“Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine. I just get debilitatingly motion sick,” croaked Severus. Already Hermione’s voice was too loud and he was quite sure there were at least three of her standing over him.

“Oh,” she replied nonchalantly. “Me too.” She moved to the opposite side of the compartment where she had dropped her bag and began rummaging through it, drawing forth a pill. She quickly conjured a glass of water and handed both to Severus.

“What is this?”

“Kwells. It’s a wonder drug, I swear.” Reluctantly, Severus downed the pill. After about thirty seconds, however, he began drumming his fingers on the arm of his seat.

“Nothing’s happening,” he complained.

“Nothing will for a while. It needs to dissolve into your blood stream. I took mine before we left. You should have told me. I would have given you one earlier.”

“Well, if I had known you were a Healer, perhaps I would have asked you for something,” snarled Severus, not in the mood to discuss who was at fault for his sickness.

“I’m sorry, Severus. But I was under the impression that you were a Potions Master with a specialty in healing potions.”

Her implication hung in the air as the train slowly pulled out of the station and gained momemtum. Just past the platform, Severus attempted to look up at her and answer, but the simple movement of his head made his stomach jump, and he had to close his eyes quickly to keep from vomiting on the spot.

“I can’t,” he gagged. “I can’t keep the motion sickness potions down, if you must know. They taste so horrible that as soon as I take them, I throw them up.”

“Ugh,” Hermione replied, making a face. Thank God for Muggle drugs. She was still kneeling by his side but was quite unsure how to proceed. Somehow, she figured Severus Snape was not someone who liked to be touched when not feeling well. “Do you need anything?”

“Just… can you be quiet for a while?” he pleaded. Normally such a request would have angered Hermione, but at the honestly pained look on his clammy, sweaty face, she consented.

“Alright. I’ll be over here reading if you need me.”

Severus hung his head once again, fighting the urge to revisit the food he had eaten for breakfast with all his might, and true to her word, Hermione took her place by the window and began to read. It was only a few minutes later, however, that Severus began to feel a marked improvement thanks to the Muggle pill. Still, he wasn't sure he really wanted to talk to Hermione, so he sat silently, watching her through the hair that hung across his face.

She really was a good looking girl. Not, perhaps, the most beautiful girl in the world- or even in her year, but the thoroughly unaffected air she possessed made her imperfections that much more acceptable. He had heard it said about others, but for the first time in his life Severus Snape actually believed the old adage "What you see is what you get." There was nothing false about the girl, and she was downright unapologetic for everything concerning herself- from her know-it-all intelligence right down to her unruly hair. Hermione was by no means the most self-confident witch he'd ever met, but she was the most self-aware, and that fact sat easily with him. There had been times, he knew, when she had felt bad about herself, but he had never seen anyone else, including himself, *make* her feel bad about herself with the obvious exception of the whole teeth-lengthing debacle. Such utter self-acceptance was rare in any woman, let alone a woman her age.

Girl, Severus. Not woman. Things may get a bit ackward if you start considering Hermione a woman. God knows it was hard enough to start thinking of her as a human being at all.

In her seat by the window, Hermione had begun to write inotebotebook, chewing nervously in turns on both the end of her quill and her bottom lip. As Severus watched her, wondering what on earth she was writing (it was the first day of summer holiday- couldn't she put down the quill for one bloody day?), he was surprised to see the tiny smile she had been wearing develop into a full-blown grin. Raising his head to look at her, he was amazed to feel that the nausea had completely passed.

“What are you so happy about?” he asked, trying to make himself still sound sick, but he couldn’t muster it.

“Dumbledore said I was Head Girl!”