Hogwarts Online
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
14
Views:
4,586
Reviews:
39
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
14
Views:
4,586
Reviews:
39
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The How of the What!
*
DISCLAIMER: i own nothing; standard disclaimers apply.
*
“So, BushyHairedGirl.com, ay?”
Hermione sighed and shook her head.
“That’s me. It’s my personal web site,” she admitted, before looking down at the floor.
Snape saw her closed-off stance and realized she was waiting for judgment, and probably a harsh one at that.
“This looks like a journal,” he said, looking back at the screen. “A sort of journal anyway,” this time pointing to an entry.
“Here you talk about your experience the other day on the metro where a man tried to take liberties with your backside,” his voice dropped to a tone she hadn’t heard since her school days at that one, “but here you discuss the last vote parliament made and further down you make mention of some pop culture reference, which I admit, means nothing to me.”
She looked up at him, a bit surprised at his genuine interest, rather than mocking.
“It’s called a web log, or blog for short. I can communicate whatever is on my mind on my site and others who read it can respond and discuss. See, here,” she said, getting a little excited, and with that she leaned over his shoulder, grabbing the mouse, and clicking on the comments link to her latest entry – the one about the lecherous old man on the train – which currently held 11 responses. “You can see that you weren’t the only one to be offended for my honor.”
He felt her breath across his ear and cheek as she spoke, and he could feel her front lightly grazing his back as she continued to click various links, giving an explanation of how her web site worked. A light chill ran down his spine and he hoped she didn’t notice how her closeness was affecting him.
“I also have a little section about me with a silly snapshot, though as far as the world at large is concerned, my name is Bushy Haired Girl and I’m just another muggle in London.”
Severus turned his head to the side to look at her, raising his eyebrow while the corner of his mouth twitched into a half smile. It was at this moment that Hermione noticow iow intimate this stance was. His lips were so close to hers and she could smell his woodsy, masculine scent. She had a momentary mental flash of his lips on hers, and she felt her knees shake. Slowly, she extricated herself from her posi and and smiled at him.
“It’s just a hobby, really. It’s what got me into the line of work I do now. I can work from home and earn a living, which in turn finances my potions’ projects without me having to work for the blasted ministry.”
“Well, I hope you didn’t think me too forward for taking a peek,” his voice came out a tad harsher than he intended, as he heart was still beating faster than usual. “I just came up here because I left my homework,” and at this he chuckled, calming down a bit, “and decided to grab it so I could study the codes during down times when my potion is simmering. “No “Not at all, it’s quite all right. I mean, it is on the internet, for goodness sake. It’s not like it was a secret, though I admit that I never expected anyone from our world to ever find it.”
Snape gave her a nod that he understood, and collected up his papers, relinquishing the seat back to her.
“I’ll leave you back to your, what was it… oh, yes, blog. I do believe I have some homework to do.” He gave her a small, formal bow to match the cadence of his statement, and left to go back to the lab.
After he had left, Hermione let out a sigh, and drd bad back into her seat in front of the computer. She logged into her blog’s control panel and typed a short, cryptic entry:
I like someone, but I don’t know how he feels about me. This can’t be good, can it?
She thought several minutes about it before deciding to hit submit. ‘A nap, that’s what I need,’ she thought, and with that, she td ofd off the computer and went to lie down for a while. She dreamed of spicy smells and warm breath and soft lips, before it all went black, and changed. Then it happened again, and she sat up with a jolt.
A few days later Snape found himself getting the hang of this HTML business. She had shown him the design she came up, which he found to be pleasing to the eye but not confusing and he easily figured out how she had imagined the navigation to work. Style sheets were easy, and he was impressed with the idea of setting attributes outside of the documents, which minimized the amount of coding. It also made changing the look of the entire site easier but just manipulating the style sheet.
He wasn’t as pleased with himself at his aptitude of this chore as he should have been. He gave not a small amount of the credit to Hermione. Her teaching style was excellent and she really worked hard to put the information to him in ways he can comprehend. She also didn’t have to micromanage his progress either, because while a mistake in HTML could cause the document to not render properly in the browser, nothing would explode and no one was going to get hurt, like in potions.
No, he decided, he was less than thrilled. It meant that the quicker it was done, the sooner he’d be leaving, and the fact that he felt this way came as a bit of a shock to him. Even though he was pleasantly surprised with how easily he and Hermione got along from day one, he initially just wanted to be done with the whole mess and get back to his dungeons where all of his time was his own. Now he found himself looking for ways to spend time with her outside of the teacher/student role they had in the mornings.
She left him to the lab in the afternoon, but he often returned in the evening to assist her in the process of breaking down potions ingredients. The process was interesting and her results, if positive, could change the way potion brewing was done, at least by those who wanted to advance the science, and he wanted to be able to say he was there when it happened.
This evening though, he decided to take a few minutes before heading to the lab and read her site again. He hadn’t seen it since the day he found it online, only because he hadn’t the opportunity to get to read it without her there. So after dinner, he begged off with the excuse of taking a shower, and said he’d be down to the lab afterwards. After his shower though, he went to the office, turned on the computer, and fired up the website.
The past couple of days had entries about current events that he didn’t pay much mind to, but one entry caught his eye. It was made the day he found her site.
He shut off the computer and practically skipped down the stairs.
Snape was sleeping soundly and having a wonderfully saccharine dream. He should have been disgusted with himself, but the dream him holding dream Hermione’s hand walking along some cliffs overlooking the ocean that reminded him of the Greek coast, was just too nice. Her hair was blowing wild in the breeze, and she wore a white, flowing dress that stopped just below her knees and had the thinnest straps he’d ever seen, exposing her arms and shoulders and part of her back. She looked like a goddess walking barefoot through the seaside grass. She turned and smiled at him, stopping their aimless walking. Placing her hands on his shoulders and looking deep into his eyes, she opened her mouth as if she was about to say something. Instead she screamed.
He sat up thinking how strange that was when he heard the scream again and realized it wasn’t his dream Hermione that screamed; it was the real Hermione. He scrambled out of bed in just his black draw string pajama pants and threw on his robe. He peeled off down the hallway and flung the door wide open to see her twisting and tangled in her sheets, screaming.
“Hermione, wake up.” He sat down next to her, grasping her flailing arms by her forearms to prevent his self from getting hit. “Hermione, it’s just a dream, come now, wake up.
“Miss Granger!” he bellowed in his best professor voice. It seemed to be just the trick as her eyes snapped open and he released her arms. She sat up and grasped the edges of his robe, looking panicked as she released one hand to pat his chest, then feel his neck and face.
“Professor Snape, you’re alright. I’ve done well, haven’t I? I didn’t tell them anything, so they don’t know about you. I didn’t tell!”
Snape looked at her in shock before schooling his features back. She was still in that moment between dreams and wakefulness.
“You’ve done just fine,” he said, softening his voice and stroking her hair. It was then that he noticed the deep purple under her eyes and wondered how long she’s been sleep deprived. “Shh, it’s all over now, you’re ok,” and at that, she broke down and sobbed.
He collected her in his arms and held her against himself, rocking her body, and telling her everything was going to be fine.
After a few minutes, the crying subsided, with only the occasional sob wracking her body. Taking deep breaths she collected herself and began apologizing.
“I suppose I forgot the silencing charm tonight. I’m so sorry for waking you up, Severus. And I’m so sorry for losing it there on you.” She sniffled and swiped her hands against her eyes and cheeks to dry them off.
“Silencing charm? I’m taking that this is a recurrent even, then, Hermione?” Her head dropped and she paused before answering.
“Yes,” was the whispered response. “The first time I had anyone stay over here, it was Ginny Weasely. I woke her up just the same, and put silencing charms on my door after that whenever I’ve had company. But it’s been a while since I’ve had company and we worked so late last night that I guess I just forgot.”
“I take it that these dreams are memories, correct?” She nodded the affirmative at this.
He grasped her face and lifted until her eyes met his, and in a steady voice he asked, “Who’s them?”
“Them,” was whispered and then she paused. She wanted to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. His black eyes showed nothing but concern for her, but she was still afraid. “Them, I don’t want to talk about them.”
“Please, Hermione. Tell me. Whoever they are, they can’t hurt you anymore. I’m here.”
“No, they can’t hurt me. Not physically anyway. One is dead and one is in Azkaban now and she’s a broken shell in St. Mungos.”
“Malfoy,” Severus said as if he should have known all along. “What did they do you?”
*
DISCLAIMER: i own nothing; standard disclaimers apply.
*
“So, BushyHairedGirl.com, ay?”
Hermione sighed and shook her head.
“That’s me. It’s my personal web site,” she admitted, before looking down at the floor.
Snape saw her closed-off stance and realized she was waiting for judgment, and probably a harsh one at that.
“This looks like a journal,” he said, looking back at the screen. “A sort of journal anyway,” this time pointing to an entry.
“Here you talk about your experience the other day on the metro where a man tried to take liberties with your backside,” his voice dropped to a tone she hadn’t heard since her school days at that one, “but here you discuss the last vote parliament made and further down you make mention of some pop culture reference, which I admit, means nothing to me.”
She looked up at him, a bit surprised at his genuine interest, rather than mocking.
“It’s called a web log, or blog for short. I can communicate whatever is on my mind on my site and others who read it can respond and discuss. See, here,” she said, getting a little excited, and with that she leaned over his shoulder, grabbing the mouse, and clicking on the comments link to her latest entry – the one about the lecherous old man on the train – which currently held 11 responses. “You can see that you weren’t the only one to be offended for my honor.”
He felt her breath across his ear and cheek as she spoke, and he could feel her front lightly grazing his back as she continued to click various links, giving an explanation of how her web site worked. A light chill ran down his spine and he hoped she didn’t notice how her closeness was affecting him.
“I also have a little section about me with a silly snapshot, though as far as the world at large is concerned, my name is Bushy Haired Girl and I’m just another muggle in London.”
Severus turned his head to the side to look at her, raising his eyebrow while the corner of his mouth twitched into a half smile. It was at this moment that Hermione noticow iow intimate this stance was. His lips were so close to hers and she could smell his woodsy, masculine scent. She had a momentary mental flash of his lips on hers, and she felt her knees shake. Slowly, she extricated herself from her posi and and smiled at him.
“It’s just a hobby, really. It’s what got me into the line of work I do now. I can work from home and earn a living, which in turn finances my potions’ projects without me having to work for the blasted ministry.”
“Well, I hope you didn’t think me too forward for taking a peek,” his voice came out a tad harsher than he intended, as he heart was still beating faster than usual. “I just came up here because I left my homework,” and at this he chuckled, calming down a bit, “and decided to grab it so I could study the codes during down times when my potion is simmering. “No “Not at all, it’s quite all right. I mean, it is on the internet, for goodness sake. It’s not like it was a secret, though I admit that I never expected anyone from our world to ever find it.”
Snape gave her a nod that he understood, and collected up his papers, relinquishing the seat back to her.
“I’ll leave you back to your, what was it… oh, yes, blog. I do believe I have some homework to do.” He gave her a small, formal bow to match the cadence of his statement, and left to go back to the lab.
After he had left, Hermione let out a sigh, and drd bad back into her seat in front of the computer. She logged into her blog’s control panel and typed a short, cryptic entry:
I like someone, but I don’t know how he feels about me. This can’t be good, can it?
She thought several minutes about it before deciding to hit submit. ‘A nap, that’s what I need,’ she thought, and with that, she td ofd off the computer and went to lie down for a while. She dreamed of spicy smells and warm breath and soft lips, before it all went black, and changed. Then it happened again, and she sat up with a jolt.
A few days later Snape found himself getting the hang of this HTML business. She had shown him the design she came up, which he found to be pleasing to the eye but not confusing and he easily figured out how she had imagined the navigation to work. Style sheets were easy, and he was impressed with the idea of setting attributes outside of the documents, which minimized the amount of coding. It also made changing the look of the entire site easier but just manipulating the style sheet.
He wasn’t as pleased with himself at his aptitude of this chore as he should have been. He gave not a small amount of the credit to Hermione. Her teaching style was excellent and she really worked hard to put the information to him in ways he can comprehend. She also didn’t have to micromanage his progress either, because while a mistake in HTML could cause the document to not render properly in the browser, nothing would explode and no one was going to get hurt, like in potions.
No, he decided, he was less than thrilled. It meant that the quicker it was done, the sooner he’d be leaving, and the fact that he felt this way came as a bit of a shock to him. Even though he was pleasantly surprised with how easily he and Hermione got along from day one, he initially just wanted to be done with the whole mess and get back to his dungeons where all of his time was his own. Now he found himself looking for ways to spend time with her outside of the teacher/student role they had in the mornings.
She left him to the lab in the afternoon, but he often returned in the evening to assist her in the process of breaking down potions ingredients. The process was interesting and her results, if positive, could change the way potion brewing was done, at least by those who wanted to advance the science, and he wanted to be able to say he was there when it happened.
This evening though, he decided to take a few minutes before heading to the lab and read her site again. He hadn’t seen it since the day he found it online, only because he hadn’t the opportunity to get to read it without her there. So after dinner, he begged off with the excuse of taking a shower, and said he’d be down to the lab afterwards. After his shower though, he went to the office, turned on the computer, and fired up the website.
The past couple of days had entries about current events that he didn’t pay much mind to, but one entry caught his eye. It was made the day he found her site.
He shut off the computer and practically skipped down the stairs.
Snape was sleeping soundly and having a wonderfully saccharine dream. He should have been disgusted with himself, but the dream him holding dream Hermione’s hand walking along some cliffs overlooking the ocean that reminded him of the Greek coast, was just too nice. Her hair was blowing wild in the breeze, and she wore a white, flowing dress that stopped just below her knees and had the thinnest straps he’d ever seen, exposing her arms and shoulders and part of her back. She looked like a goddess walking barefoot through the seaside grass. She turned and smiled at him, stopping their aimless walking. Placing her hands on his shoulders and looking deep into his eyes, she opened her mouth as if she was about to say something. Instead she screamed.
He sat up thinking how strange that was when he heard the scream again and realized it wasn’t his dream Hermione that screamed; it was the real Hermione. He scrambled out of bed in just his black draw string pajama pants and threw on his robe. He peeled off down the hallway and flung the door wide open to see her twisting and tangled in her sheets, screaming.
“Hermione, wake up.” He sat down next to her, grasping her flailing arms by her forearms to prevent his self from getting hit. “Hermione, it’s just a dream, come now, wake up.
“Miss Granger!” he bellowed in his best professor voice. It seemed to be just the trick as her eyes snapped open and he released her arms. She sat up and grasped the edges of his robe, looking panicked as she released one hand to pat his chest, then feel his neck and face.
“Professor Snape, you’re alright. I’ve done well, haven’t I? I didn’t tell them anything, so they don’t know about you. I didn’t tell!”
Snape looked at her in shock before schooling his features back. She was still in that moment between dreams and wakefulness.
“You’ve done just fine,” he said, softening his voice and stroking her hair. It was then that he noticed the deep purple under her eyes and wondered how long she’s been sleep deprived. “Shh, it’s all over now, you’re ok,” and at that, she broke down and sobbed.
He collected her in his arms and held her against himself, rocking her body, and telling her everything was going to be fine.
After a few minutes, the crying subsided, with only the occasional sob wracking her body. Taking deep breaths she collected herself and began apologizing.
“I suppose I forgot the silencing charm tonight. I’m so sorry for waking you up, Severus. And I’m so sorry for losing it there on you.” She sniffled and swiped her hands against her eyes and cheeks to dry them off.
“Silencing charm? I’m taking that this is a recurrent even, then, Hermione?” Her head dropped and she paused before answering.
“Yes,” was the whispered response. “The first time I had anyone stay over here, it was Ginny Weasely. I woke her up just the same, and put silencing charms on my door after that whenever I’ve had company. But it’s been a while since I’ve had company and we worked so late last night that I guess I just forgot.”
“I take it that these dreams are memories, correct?” She nodded the affirmative at this.
He grasped her face and lifted until her eyes met his, and in a steady voice he asked, “Who’s them?”
“Them,” was whispered and then she paused. She wanted to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. His black eyes showed nothing but concern for her, but she was still afraid. “Them, I don’t want to talk about them.”
“Please, Hermione. Tell me. Whoever they are, they can’t hurt you anymore. I’m here.”
“No, they can’t hurt me. Not physically anyway. One is dead and one is in Azkaban now and she’s a broken shell in St. Mungos.”
“Malfoy,” Severus said as if he should have known all along. “What did they do you?”
*