Tension in the Laboratory
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
24
Views:
25,706
Reviews:
68
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
24
Views:
25,706
Reviews:
68
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.
Thawing
Snape was quiet for a moment. At last he said, “I’ve let myself get carried away with you. Most ill-advised. It won’t-- ”
“Stop.” Hermione said. “Prof—Severus. You owe me one small favor.”
“And what is that?” Neither his tone nor the unreadable expression with which he glanced around her tiny flat inspired confidence.
“Wait here for 10 minutes.”
“I have already been waiting 30.”
“I know. I’m—I apologize for the wait. It was inconsiderate of me. It won’t happen again.”
“Indeed.” His tone was so dry it bordered on arid.
“Ten minutes!”
She leaped up, grabbed some clothes from her bedroom and disappeared into the bathroom. Ten minutes later she emerged clean, teeth brushed, hair smoothed, and in fresh clothes. She was almost surprised to see Snape still waiting for her, although his expression, if anything, was even less inviting. Still, some small hope bloomed inside her when she saw him.
She slid back onto the sofa. “So McGonagall can’t think well of you,” she said after a moment.
Now something flickered in his gaze as he seemed to reappraise her. “Quite.”
“And not anyone else, either, unless it’s You-Know-Who. Or Dumbledore.”
He gave the smallest of nods.
“And this is the kind of thing that happens often with you.”
Now his gaze was locked on her. “Daily.”
“I see.”
He didn’t say anything, but his eyes glittered.
“But doesn’t it bother you?”
“What?”
“To be hated by the people you’re risking your life to help.”
“No,” he said, his voice laced with disdain.
“Then why do it?”
He started to answer, but a strange look came over his face. “I didn’t do it for them,” he said at last.
“Then for what?”
He seemed to be trying to decide whether he should keep talking. Clearly, the conversation had strayed far beyond the script he had mentally composed.
“Maybe it’s for her?” Hermione pressed gently. “Maybe that’s why no one’s seen your Patronus in so long.”
Snape went white.
“You never told Harry about it.”
“And you won’t either!” he shot back. He began pacing around the little room like a panther in a cage. Hermione had known she would hit close to home, but she hadn’t expected this near explosion. She had never seen him so agitated before.
“I see I’m not supposed to know this,” she ventured. “I won’t tell Harry.”
“That won’t matter. You don’t know Occlumency, and I doubt you’d be much better at it than Potter.”
“You could teach me.”
He sat down on the sofa with his head in his hands and didn’t move for several seconds. Hermione wasn’t sure what to do. She raised her hand to touch him, then let her hand fall. At length, he straightened and faced her again. “I have seriously misjudged you, Hermione.” She wasn’t sure how to reply to that, especially now that he was looking deep into her eyes. She knew she should look away from those hypnotic black depths, but could not. “I knew your powers of deduction, but I never thought you would guess this much. This puts me in an awkward position.” He leaned toward her on the small sofa.
“D-don’t do it yet,” she blurted out.
“What do you think I’m going to do?”
Why was he playing games with her? “You’re going to Obliviate me, obviously,” she said.
“Yes. I’m sorry, but I don’t have a choice.” His tone, for once, was gentle, and that scared her much more than his usual jeers and jibes.
“No! Not yet.”
He sighed and mumbled something as he backed up slightly.
“What?”
“Don’t make this harder than it is.”
Anger flashed in her again. Don’t make this harder…on him? “I should lie down for you to Obliviate me?” she snapped.
“That would make it easier, yes.”
“Not yet.”
Now his face was very close to hers, really just a few inches away. “What shall I wait for?”
This time she sensed it, the play of her emotions and thoughts parading past his consciousness. “That’s not fair.” Her voice quavered. She did not want to show weakness in front of him but was unable to prevent it. Still, she couldn’t tear her eyes from his.
“Who said I was fair?”
“Not yet.”
“Then say my name.”
“S-Severus.”
“I love that endearing stammer. Say it again and I’ll think about not Obliviating you.” He trailed one long finger over her cheek and into her thick hair.
She cleared her throat, which now seemed not to be working properly. “Severus.” She hadn’t meant it to sound so breathy.
He leaned closer. “Did Potter ever kiss you? Did Weasley?”
“How about who you’ve snogged?” Hermione countered, but her voice carried little heat. She was melting…
“Tell me,” he insisted. His eyes were still locked on hers. His finger combed through her hair and began a light exploration of the outer whorl of her ear.
“Ron has,” she admitted, feeling the heat in her cheeks.
“Did you like it?”
The blush intensified. “That’s not a fair question,” she muttered, lowering her eyes.
“Look at me.”
“No.”
His finger traced her jaw before tilting it up. Now she had to look directly into those dark pools again. “Ah. That pleasant, then?”
“That’s not a nice way to find out. You should ask,” she said with some of her usual asperity.
“I never said I was nice.” And then his mouth was on hers, his lips much warmer than she had expected, his fingers still on her jaw, gently but firmly guiding her where he wanted.
“Stop.” Hermione said. “Prof—Severus. You owe me one small favor.”
“And what is that?” Neither his tone nor the unreadable expression with which he glanced around her tiny flat inspired confidence.
“Wait here for 10 minutes.”
“I have already been waiting 30.”
“I know. I’m—I apologize for the wait. It was inconsiderate of me. It won’t happen again.”
“Indeed.” His tone was so dry it bordered on arid.
“Ten minutes!”
She leaped up, grabbed some clothes from her bedroom and disappeared into the bathroom. Ten minutes later she emerged clean, teeth brushed, hair smoothed, and in fresh clothes. She was almost surprised to see Snape still waiting for her, although his expression, if anything, was even less inviting. Still, some small hope bloomed inside her when she saw him.
She slid back onto the sofa. “So McGonagall can’t think well of you,” she said after a moment.
Now something flickered in his gaze as he seemed to reappraise her. “Quite.”
“And not anyone else, either, unless it’s You-Know-Who. Or Dumbledore.”
He gave the smallest of nods.
“And this is the kind of thing that happens often with you.”
Now his gaze was locked on her. “Daily.”
“I see.”
He didn’t say anything, but his eyes glittered.
“But doesn’t it bother you?”
“What?”
“To be hated by the people you’re risking your life to help.”
“No,” he said, his voice laced with disdain.
“Then why do it?”
He started to answer, but a strange look came over his face. “I didn’t do it for them,” he said at last.
“Then for what?”
He seemed to be trying to decide whether he should keep talking. Clearly, the conversation had strayed far beyond the script he had mentally composed.
“Maybe it’s for her?” Hermione pressed gently. “Maybe that’s why no one’s seen your Patronus in so long.”
Snape went white.
“You never told Harry about it.”
“And you won’t either!” he shot back. He began pacing around the little room like a panther in a cage. Hermione had known she would hit close to home, but she hadn’t expected this near explosion. She had never seen him so agitated before.
“I see I’m not supposed to know this,” she ventured. “I won’t tell Harry.”
“That won’t matter. You don’t know Occlumency, and I doubt you’d be much better at it than Potter.”
“You could teach me.”
He sat down on the sofa with his head in his hands and didn’t move for several seconds. Hermione wasn’t sure what to do. She raised her hand to touch him, then let her hand fall. At length, he straightened and faced her again. “I have seriously misjudged you, Hermione.” She wasn’t sure how to reply to that, especially now that he was looking deep into her eyes. She knew she should look away from those hypnotic black depths, but could not. “I knew your powers of deduction, but I never thought you would guess this much. This puts me in an awkward position.” He leaned toward her on the small sofa.
“D-don’t do it yet,” she blurted out.
“What do you think I’m going to do?”
Why was he playing games with her? “You’re going to Obliviate me, obviously,” she said.
“Yes. I’m sorry, but I don’t have a choice.” His tone, for once, was gentle, and that scared her much more than his usual jeers and jibes.
“No! Not yet.”
He sighed and mumbled something as he backed up slightly.
“What?”
“Don’t make this harder than it is.”
Anger flashed in her again. Don’t make this harder…on him? “I should lie down for you to Obliviate me?” she snapped.
“That would make it easier, yes.”
“Not yet.”
Now his face was very close to hers, really just a few inches away. “What shall I wait for?”
This time she sensed it, the play of her emotions and thoughts parading past his consciousness. “That’s not fair.” Her voice quavered. She did not want to show weakness in front of him but was unable to prevent it. Still, she couldn’t tear her eyes from his.
“Who said I was fair?”
“Not yet.”
“Then say my name.”
“S-Severus.”
“I love that endearing stammer. Say it again and I’ll think about not Obliviating you.” He trailed one long finger over her cheek and into her thick hair.
She cleared her throat, which now seemed not to be working properly. “Severus.” She hadn’t meant it to sound so breathy.
He leaned closer. “Did Potter ever kiss you? Did Weasley?”
“How about who you’ve snogged?” Hermione countered, but her voice carried little heat. She was melting…
“Tell me,” he insisted. His eyes were still locked on hers. His finger combed through her hair and began a light exploration of the outer whorl of her ear.
“Ron has,” she admitted, feeling the heat in her cheeks.
“Did you like it?”
The blush intensified. “That’s not a fair question,” she muttered, lowering her eyes.
“Look at me.”
“No.”
His finger traced her jaw before tilting it up. Now she had to look directly into those dark pools again. “Ah. That pleasant, then?”
“That’s not a nice way to find out. You should ask,” she said with some of her usual asperity.
“I never said I was nice.” And then his mouth was on hers, his lips much warmer than she had expected, his fingers still on her jaw, gently but firmly guiding her where he wanted.