I, Snape - Chapter Ten

A Change of Pace, Part II

Snape did not come out of his chambers for lunch. Hermione knocked, but there was no answer. She found her way to the pantry easily because an invisible force blocked any corridor not leading there. She made herself an ample lunch of fruit, cheese and crackers. It felt eerie sitting all alone at the large wooden table. It was a good thing indeed that Hermione had found a copy of the Daily Prophet left over from breakfast. She even found a tin of tomato soup that she could use a heating spell on later. There were other goodies in the huge magical pantry, quite enough to keep her fed for two weeks easily without much repetition. She only wished the rest of her time could be so well spent. However, she only had packed a couple of books in her trunk, sending the majority of her library home by shrinking it and using owl post. She sincerely wished that she hadn’t been so organized and had more of her books available.

Snape’s sitting room with its towers and mountains and even an avalanche or two of books kept calling to her. She ignored its lure and spent the afternoon writing to her friends and family. It was difficult to explain exactly what had happened, so she did her best to summarize, asking her readers’ patience until they could meet face to face. Hermione made a discovery when it was time to head to the owlery. Although the Headmaster’s words had led her to believe the entire castle was off limits, if you asked nicely, it would permit you to go places you needed to go, such as the owlery. Unfortunately, her request for the library was ignored.

At dinnertime, Snape actually came and knocked on Hermione’s door. His face was drawn and pale, and he looked much more sullen than usual. She especially noticed the haunted look around his eyes. She swallowed and followed him along the path through his sitting room and to the pantry. Although the table in the pantry was large enough to sit quite a few people, she chose to sit across from him and he took no notice. Hermione felt that was a good indicator that maybe the professor was coming out of his snit. She found two bottles of butterbeer hidden behind a case of Fresca and brought them to the table along with her soup and bread.

He had carved himself some roast beef and was eating it with horseradish and pickle between two slabs of bread. Hermione studied him, eventually he noticed and sighed.

“I take it you fancy idle mealtime chatter.” He deadpanned.

“I was only wondering if you had any plans for the next two weeks?” Hermione tried to match his tone of voice, in order not to be too annoying.

Snape scratched his chin. “I might go to Hogsmeade and get pissed.” He turned back to his food, leaving Hermione fuming.

She thumped on the table. “That will not do, sir. Not do at all. Unless, of course, you bring me for company.”

Snape looked at her with barely veiled distain. Gryffindors! He picked up his sandwich and bottle of butterbeer and stalked out the door.

Hermione yelled after him, “And where are you heading to?”

He yelled back, “To eat in peace and quiet!”

Hermione sat down in a huff. He simply was not going to be allowed to leave her alone. If he went to Hogsmeade she would follow, it was as simple at that. She was his responsibility and she’d bloody well make sure he pulled up his socks or… Or he could come home to a very tidy flat! It was an idea worthy of any Slytherin, blackmail, pure and simple. Hermione sat back and tucked into her food with a much better appetite. Just be careful, Prof. Snape. I turned you into a cat and I can do much worse.

Hermione, if she were to be honest with herself, had in some ways quite enjoyed having Snape around as a cat, once she got over her initial shock of what she’d done. After all the years of his abuse, it had pleased her no end so see him stroke himself on her legs, accept belly rubs and submit himself to all other sorts of indignities in his attempt to persuade her to let him go free. She had enjoyed the power. It had excited her. And there were times when she had even toyed with him! After the first night, she actually had taken some pleasure in getting dressed and undressed in the middle of the room. She couldn’t be sure if he was watching, but if he was, she hoped he’d got an eyeful. That last night, she’d thought about him lying under her bed and it excited her so much that she brought herself off in record time. Hermione blushed. It had thrilled her even more to think that maybe, just maybe, he knew what she had been doing. She giggled. Oh yes, straight-laced old Snape, listening to the Head Girl masturbate, he probably was beside himself with, with…

She couldn’t really comprehend what had come over her. Hermione sipped her soup and drank her butterbeer, trying to analyze her conflicting feelings towards Snape. She always had had a begrudging respect for him, even if he did act immaturely with his favoritism and his blatant dislike of Harry and Gryffindor and all his other carryings on. But when he’d pushed her out of the way of the killing curse, nearly winding up dead, well, she had been grateful-- Grateful enough to fight for and succeed in him being released from Azkaban.

And somehow, after hearing about him being kicked out from Hooch’s rooms and learning that he had been her lover, she began to see him differently. She realized that he actually was a sexual being. A man with a penis, testicles and chest hair and all those other things that she’d recently in the last year or two started finding so interesting about men. Oh, he didn’t act very manly, what with the sneering and the catty remarks, but to think he’d been rejected by Hooch and then almost preyed upon by Trelawney, well, she wanted to protect him. He seemed vulnerable.

Hermione laughed. If only Harry and Ron could hear her, they would both be quite ill! Hermione finished her meal and headed back to their chambers. She could hear Snape running a bath, so she knew he hadn’t headed off to Hogsmeade without her.

She got changed for bed and then sat up and reread “Hogwarts – A History” for about the 2,000th time. Of all the books to put in her trunk, it had been sheer sentiment to keep this one. She just about had it memorized. But it served its purpose well, because she quickly fell asleep.

The screaming awakened Hermione. It sounded like a person was being murdered. Grabbing her wand, she headed to the adjoining bath. Indeed, it was coming from Snape’s room. She worried that he might have put up a complicated ward; however, a quick “Alohomora” flung open the door.

“Lumos” and she saw he was struggling against his bedding.

“Professor,” she said, fearful to get close to him. His screams increased and she leaped onto his bed and grabbed his arms to shake him awake. Yet it only caused him to start mumbling and fighting her, “Dementors, keep away. NO. Don’t touch me. Get off. Get away from me.” Hermione was uncertain whether to use an awakening spell or just slap him. In the end she found herself too nervous, what with his babbling and thrashing, to perform the spell. So she hauled back and slapped him. His head snapped back and his eyes opened to stare at what was directly in front of him -- her breasts. He stared at them, at first unseeingly, and then with some awareness. His breathing was still quite rapid and strained.

Hermione felt paralyzed by the situation she found herself in. Here she was in his bed holding his arms. Of course, if he would scream the castle down, it wasn’t her fault; however, she felt a bit embarrassed for them both. She said nothing, waiting for him to come to himself. However, he just stared at her breasts.

She looked down and gasped, realizing that he was quite naked! And in an obvious state of arousal, in fact, a rather impressive state of arousal. The sheets that were all twisted around him did absolutely nothing to cover his shaft, which was pointing directly upward at her! Hermione swallowed. It was a standoff. He staring at her breasts and she was not able to help but to notice certain things about him, like the amount of chest hair he had, not copious but pleasing, or that he had incredibly pink erect nipples, or that one could probably count his ribs, and that he had the largest cock she’d ever seen, although she’d only seen about four so far… three when having sex and a fourth by accident when staying over at the Weasleys.

So they just stayed there, frozen. Seconds slowly ticked by. Hermione noticed that his balls seemed much larger than the boys she’d been with, too. She felt a tickle in her throat and tried to clear it. Snape’s eyes flew up to her face and then, following her line of sight, down to his lap. Then for a few seconds their eyes locked before his eyes widened with mortification and shock.

“Oh Gods, what are you doing here?” He backed away from her as if she was one of his dementors.

“You were having a bad dream. You were screaming. I was worried—“

Snape grabbed his sheet and managed to cover himself. “No, I wasn’t. I wasn’t dreaming. NO. I took Dreamless Sleep—“

“You mean that unopened bottle on your nightstand?” Hermione nodded to the bedside table, which was littered by magazines and other sundry items, including an open jar of Broomstick Polish, which Hermione knew for a fact was used mostly for lubrication of a personal nature and not that kind of broomstick at all.

“Get out!” Snape yelled, going quite red in the face. “Damn you, you Mmmudblood bitch.”

Hermione scrambled off of the bed, “Sure, but do us a favor and remember to take the damn stuff! They could hear you all the way to Diagon Alley.” She got the door shut just before what sounded to be a very large book slammed against the doorframe. Hermione ran back to her room and warded both doors. She sat there, trembling in bed. And then it hit her-- the bloody nerve of him! He forgot to take his potion and he yells at her? For a second she was about to get up and continue the screaming match when she remembered the look on his face as their eyes had first met, before he realized he was naked. It had been a look of sheer hunger and longing.

Sitting back in her bed, she held her knees close to her chest and thought about it. He wanted her! Sure he did. He’d been staring at her breasts and had gotten hard. She was fairly positive he hadn’t been like that when he was screaming. No. She excited him! Hermione pressed this information to her with something akin to joy. He was so human. He probably used that polish on himself to get to sleep, forgetting to take the potion.

Hermione lay back in bed, feeling quite happy. She didn’t know why, but thinking about Snape being human, being vulnerable, wanting her like any normal male Hogwarts upperclassman would, just gave her a very warm feeling. He wasn’t so fierce, was he now? And he had nothing that she hadn’t seen before, after all bigger didn’t necessitate being better. Hermione, pleased with the recent turn of events, very peacefully fell asleep.

Snape for his part couldn’t believe what had just taken place. It was all a nightmare. He chugged down the entire bottle of the Dreamless Sleep, even though it was a triple dose bottle, and wrapped himself up in his bedding. He was upset that he’d used the M-word again. Why couldn’t he just say Muggleborn, which was the politically correct word after all? The potion did its job and shortly thereafter he was sound asleep.

The next day Hermione woke up and got herself breakfast. She then took a stroll around the grounds. The lake looked cool and inviting on a day that already was quite warm. So if Snape wasn’t going to supervise her, what was to stop her from going into Hogsmeade and purchasing a few books on her own? She walked down to the gates, only to be stopped by the same invisible force that was so apparent in the castle. Hermione stamped her foot in frustration. Professor Dumbledore’s enchantments could be quite annoying at times. Though she was quite certain that if Snape were to accompany her, she’d be able to go Hogsmeade. She wouldn’t mind the idea of getting quite pissed herself, come to think of it!

She returned to their chambers and listened to him through the connecting door. Still asleep! Well, he said not to touch anything, but she did know a spell that allowed one to turn the pages of a book without hands! It was the letter of the law, if not the spirit. She followed the little path to the worktable in the corner. She recognized the ingredients for a potion spread out on the table.

She idly noted that one of the ingredients was for veritaserum; but the other ingredients weren’t. She used a bookmark spell on the copy of Unique and Unusual Potions, which was lying there and the book automatically opened at the last page that had been read. And there she had it: Lavender Haze. And indeed lavender was an ingredient and the color of the poison. She read about it, finding it a quite unique and interesting potion. It created euphoria and death within a half hour of it’s taking. It was considered the “nectar of choice” for suicides among wizards. Strange, Snape had never taught it in class. Then again, it would be rather silly to present tense, hormonal, N.E.W.T. fearing students with a way out from it all: especially a way out that had such pleasing effects. She closed the book and proceeded to look for other books to read. She found a history of Hogsmeade that had been out-of-print for decades and looked to be rather interesting. Forgetting her need to be delicate with Snape’s feelings, she opened it and started to turn the pages. After a while, lost in the history of the nearby town, she wandered to her bed to read in a more comfortable position.

Snape woke up around noon with a horrendous headache. He staggered into the bathroom and swallowed some Willowbark tablets and pee’d. He deliberately left the seat up when he was done. He got dressed and was walking down the corridor when he spied the Know-it-all sitting in her room reading a book. He continued walking until he realized it was his book! He returned to her room.

“Miss Granger,” he said staring at the floor, not wanting to remember last night ever happened, “Do you appreciate it when people touch your person or your personal property without your permission?”

“No, Professor, I can’t say as I do.” Hermione watched him, half in shock that he wasn’t yelling at her and half in curiosity, wondering what he’d say next.

“Then why, by all the Gods, do you think I’d appreciate it?” And he walked on, leaving Hermione feeling very guilty and confused. She wanted to say something, anything, but found herself quite speechless by his strange behavior. She got up and went after him, catching up to him near the pantry.

“What is it, Miss Granger?” he snarled, still not looking at her.

“I apologize for taking your book.”

“Well, how refreshing. Apology accepted, now if you will excuse me.”

“Can’t we start over, Professor?” Hermione looked at him, hoping he’d be willing to face her. “I’m terribly sorry about everything that happened.”

He slowly looked up at her. The same empty, hungry look was there that she’d noted before. And then he smiled. It looked like his face was about to break. “Well, yes, of course. All is forgiven. You can write your family and tell them that you will be arriving home on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow. There, that’s all better now, isn’t it?” And he walked on.

A cold chill ran down her back. Hermione suddenly felt very alone, very isolated and completely baffled by the man. She had the presence of mind to call out, “Thank you, Professor Snape,” before going back to her room to pack. That afternoon she took another walk in the sunshine and wound up sitting outside of Hagrid’s hut. Even Hagrid had gone, along with his various beasts and beasties. She had a very strange feeling. She tried to imagine what Harry would say, probably something about Snape been a weird slime ball and not to worry. She was worried, but she didn’t know why.

The evening and night passed slowly, but without event. She didn’t bother writing anyone about her return since her parents had probably already left without her that morning for their vacation. She’d head home and then see if she couldn’t stay with Harry at the Weasleys for a while.

The next day when it was time to leave for the station, Hermione knocked on his door. When he answered it, Hermione realized that it was the first time she’d ever seen him unshaven. She was tempted to touch his face to see what it felt like. It looked scratchy.

“Yes, Miss Granger. Are you packed and ready to leave?”

She nodded. “Are you sure you will be fine here all by yourself?”

“I’m not staying. I’ll be taking a little holiday as Headmaster had prescribed. With the place all shut up like this, it’s simply not worth being here.” He didn’t smile, but Hermione felt slightly reassured.

“That’s good then. I was concerned. Thank you and goodbye, Professor.” She held out her hand. He looked at it for a moment before lifting his own hand in a little wave.

“And goodbye to you, little Miss Know-it-all. I can’t say that it’s been a pleasure.” He sneered and he shut the door in her face.

Stupid git! Thought Hermione as she walked out the front door of Hogwarts and down toward the gates. He had managed to ruin her holiday by keeping her there just long enough to miss her parent’s departure. But she wasn’t going to let him know that. And maybe, just maybe, she could find her parent’s itinerary and join them on the Continent, anyway.

Something was nagging at her though, some unsettled feeling. Her mind tried to put the pieces together as she walked, going over events and conversations of the past few weeks. Something, something….
 

On to Chapter Eleven
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