Is That So, Ms. Granger?

Snape’s head remained lowered over the stack of papers on his desk as the door to his office shut, followed by the sounds of small shuffling of a pair of black dress belonging to one Princess of Gryffindor.

“You wished to me, sir?” Hermione asked, rather than stated, standing awkwardly at the door as she regarded the foreboding man in black seated rather languidly behind his desk. It was nearly midnight, and she had been caught in the corridor by the feared Potions Master after firing a particularly nasty hex at Pugface Parkinson.

She shuffled nervously where she stood, raising a hand to brush a loose tendril of hair back out of her face so she could get a better view of her professor. His shoulders were relaxed, almost lazily, and he was slightly slumping in his chair, throwing off the cool and crisp perception the man usually gave off. In fact, given the semi warm lighting of his office, he almost looked human.

“Sit.” She jumped slightly at the sudden baritone voice, a blush covering her cheeks in response to her pitiful reaction.Smoothly she walked the short distance the armchair placed directly in front of his desk. Probably for intimidation purposes, she thought with an indignantly.

She sat down, crossing her ankles and resting her elbows on the armrests as she gazed expectantly at the Head of Slytherin, waiting for him to bark at her for her ‘insolence’, take off House Points, and give her a detention before sending her on her merry little way.

She waited for this, but time continued to pass. A minute… 2 minutes… 3… and then finally, after about a solid ten minutes, Snape set his quill on his desk and clasped his hands together as he raised his cold gaze to her.

She swallowed thickly, her stomach churning with nerves as she clutched the fabric of the armrests a little tighter. She wasn’t scared of him; it was the prospect of possibly being expelled for harming another student that worried her.

But the pride in her refused to let her speak up and give him her reasoning for hexing a student of his house. Instead, she merely blinked at him, waiting for him to address her first. “Care to explain why you sent Ms. Parkinson to the Infirmary?” He purred in an attempt she suspected was supposed to be demeaning.

Her amber eyes flashed in annoyance at this, but she kept her tongue in cheek and said softly, “Not particularly,” he raised an eyebrow “sir.” She added quickly, watching the eyebrow slowly fall back into place.

“Ms. Granger, your actions caused bodily harm to one of my students. Harm, by the way, strictly forbidden within the walls of this castle which could easily lead to your expulsion should it find its way to the Headmaster.” Snape watched as a flicker of hesitation etched itself onto her angelic features, causing his heart to throb painfully in his chest. “Now, let’s try this again. Why, Ms. Granger, did you find it necessary to hex Ms. Parkinson?”

He could tell she wanted to withhold her reasoning with the way she gnawed on her bottom lip, a lip he desired to suckle on and nibble on himself. “Because she was antagonizing me, sir,” she said quickly, hoping that it would be enough.

“Antagonizing you how?” Of course it wouldn’t be. This was Snape she was talking about here. Her cheeks flushed a vibrant red, lips tightening in an embarrassed grimace. “I’m waiting.” She remained slightly, lips pressed together in a tight line as she stared back at him.

He let out a breath which implied he was bored, and then slumped back against his seat. “I’m tired and have the beginnings of a headache, Ms. Granger,” lies “shall I go and fetch the Headmaster now or are you going to cooperate?”

She sat up straight, pushing herself to the edge of her seat. “No!” She cried out pleadingly before flushing an even darker crimson. “I’ll cooperate… she… she was making rather crude comments, professor.” Hermione raised her eyes to look up at the man before her, seeing that he seemed unimpressed she knew she was going to have to elaborate. “She… she told me I… I uhm…”

“Spit it out,” he sneered, managing to sound successfully annoyed. Oh, but he was far from it. This would be his chance.

“She told me I was a freak… and that freaks only had one purpose. And that was to have herself… erm... stuffed in every way possible.” Oh God this is humiliating, she hung her head in shame, worrying her bottom lip once more as she anticipated his reaction. Probably smirk and dock me points, she thought pitifully, sinking further into the cushions of the chair.

Snape regarded her coolly, saying nothing as he examined her with adoration. The not so young Gryffindor was truly mesmerizing, like a golden haired Medusa. Only she seemed to only turn one thing on him to stone. “You are no freak,” he murmured finally, rewarded with a shocked look from the young beauty before him. Her cheeks were rosy, whiskey eyes flickering with emotions of surprise and wonder.

Careful, Granger. Curiosity killed the cat. “And furthermore, you should not succumb to the words of a petty and insecure child.” She continued to gape at him. “You are a woman, Ms. Granger. A highly intelligent, talented, and promising young witch.”

Hermione was beside herself, is he actually complimenting me? She shut her mouth, clearing her throat and sitting up straighter in her seat. “No offense, Professor, but… I thought you hated me.” And then he did something that really unnerved her. He chuckled. The stoic, impersonal, seemingly inhuman Bat of the Dungeons had chuckled.

“I may be caustic and cold at times, Ms. Granger, but I am not incapable of giving credit where credit is due.” His eyes glistened with amusement, making him look considerably more attractive than he already was. Wait. What? When did she start thinking he was attractive?

Don’t lie to yourself Granger, you’ve had a crush on him for years. She blushed deeply, folding her hands in her lap as she lowered her chin a bit bashfully. “I feel many things for many people, but I would not say hatred is one of the things I feel for you in particular.”

Her eyebrows pinched together at this, and he knew it was coming. “Then what do you feel for me?” And there it was. She asked this casually, forgetting to use the formalities usually practiced whilst asking a superior a question. He leaned forward at this, resting his arms against the mahogany of his desk as he smirked at her.

“Why don’t you guess?” He purred, causing the pit of her belly to clench with desire. She was entranced by his eyes, letting them engulf her while his silken voice crashed over her in waves.

She licked her lips, which had for some odd reason gone dry, and then began to guess. “Disgust?”

“No,” he responded coolly.

She furrowed her eyebrows again. “Resentment?”

“Try again,” he cooed as the smirk on his face broadened, causing her to squirm uncomfortably before him.

“… tolerance?” His lips twitched at this.

“Getting warmer.”

“Admiration,” she breathed, unconsciously leaning in closer to him and his suddenly tempting smirk.

“Yesss.” She was breathing a bit heavier at this point, an indescribable tension filling the room as her head swam the closer she got to the seemingly unreachable man. “Go on.”

Hermione wet her lips again and continued playing the game he had set her up with. “Adoration?”

“Mmm you’re getting there,” he hummed now, her heart racing frantically in her chest.

“Fancy?” She gasped.

“More,” his fingers curled, pressing the tips into the wooden surface of his desk as he rose slightly out of his seat and closer to her.  

“Attraction!” She shouted as the feelings began to make her dizzy. She was swooning at this point.

“MORE,” he demanded, now a mere inch away from her mouth. She could feel his warm breath brush against the skin of her lips, caressing them in an oh sweet tantalizing way. She shut her eyes, shuddering slightly as she whispered.

“Love.” There was no response then, no movement, just the sound of blood rushing in her ears and the feeling of dampness between the apex of her thighs. Not to mention the erratic beating her of heart against her ribs.

Hermione waited, her breaths harsh as he felt, rather than heard, him part his lips, causing her to shiver excitedly. Was he going to kiss her? God she hoped he was going to kiss her. “And you’ve caught the Golden Snitch,” he uttered softly, each word causing a short wave of heat to brush up against her lips. And just like that, he was gone. She could no longer feel his heat. Her eyes popped open, regarding him with a completely puzzled look as he gazed at her with a cold indifference.

“Sir?” She asked in uncertainty.

“Good night, Ms. Granger.”

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Author's Note: This is my very first Snamione fic, and I promise there will be more to come. This won't be an extraordinarily long fanfiction, maybe 12 chapters at the most, but I would be pleased if you would review and inform if I should continue this or end it here. Thanks butterbutts! (no shame)

~ Tiffany