Love at First Sip
Hermione jumped at the sound of professor Snape entering the classroom.
“Christ!” Ron gasped, “Does he have to barge in here like that every year? Jumped right out of my chair, I did!”
“Yeah,” Hermione growled, “and onto my foot! You should be used to it by now, Ron. And get off of me!”
“Right... Sorry.” As Ron situated himself, Hermione glanced at Snape. My, was he in a mood today, even for him!
Snape cleared his throat, his beady eyes darting around the classroom. When all was quiet he said (with a bit of reluctance), “Apparently...Dumbledore thinks I should be-” with that he paused.
“Professor Snape?” Hermione asked, “He thinks you should be what?”
“Shut-up you silly girl! Did I call on you? Ten points from Gryffindor!”
Harry groaned. “Is another year of potions really necessary? It’s only the first day and he’s already docking points.”
“As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted by Miss Granger,” Snape continued with a disgusted look, “Dumbledore believes I should be easier on you twits.” He paused. “We shall have a free day. Do your homework for your other classes!”
Snape spun around, his back rigid, and walked to his desk. As he turned around he noticed a peculiar thing. The whole class, their jaws hanging and eyes wide open, stared at him in silence. Snape growled. How could Dumbledore believe these imbeciles deserved a day off? Even Miss Granger was at a loss for words. What? That babbling know-it-all was unable to speak? Impossible!
“Miss Granger! Though the dim-witted look on your face fits you perfectly, I believe I told you to DO YOUR HOMEWORK! Ten points from Gryffindor!”
With that he swept his robes around and retired at his desk to grade papers.
Typically, Harry would have been upset that Snape took only Gryffindor's points, but he was focusing all his power into not laughing. He could hear Ron snickering beside him.
“Shut-up, Ron!” he hissed, trying to control his own laughter, “You’ll get more points taken away!”
Ron looked up at Harry, tears of laughter rolling down his face, and pointed to a cartoon being drawn by magic over the writing on the board. It was a picture of Snape in a dress, skipping around in a field of flowers, a silly grin painted on his face, and heart-shaped clouds in the sky. As Harry saw the last flower being drawn he burst into fits of laughter so strong it hurt his stomach. Christ, that drawing was wrong, but it was so funny!
Hermione hushed Harry and Ron. She didn’t think this was funny at all. In fact, she needed more time to add a few pages to her wizard history report. It was bad enough that Snape was forced give them a free day, but to have the whole class laughing? Plus, she couldn’t concentrate with all that giggling! As she looked up at the board she noticed the cartoon. “Oh, no!” she gasped as she dropped her ink glass.
“What is all this racket?” Snape screamed, knocking his chair over as he stood up. “Miss Granger, surely you have not already made a mess? You were only supposed to do your homework! How could you possibly mess that up?”
“I know, sir, but...” Hermione paused. She didn’t want Snape to get even more upset with her, just because some moron decided to put that cartoon on the board! (It had been hexed to move, creating a figure of him actually skipping!) As her eyes flicked between Professor Snape and the board, trying to figure out what to say, he turned around and the whole class went silent.
The cartoon was now singing “Perhaps I’m truly in love,” an old melody about a man who falls in love with a princess.
Snape's face boiled with rage. “GET OUT!” he roared as the students stumbled out of the classroom. “Except you, Miss Granger,” he growled menacingly, “you will clean up this mess!”
“Yes professor, but-”
Hermione sighed. Apparently nothing had changed.
As Hermione made her way up the stairs, she felt a shift. “Oh, no,” she thought. The stairs were moving again. “Bugger! These stairs are so annoying!” she grumbled.
When they finally stopped shifting, she found herself at a big, black door. It looked like it was...wriggling. Wait! She knew this! It was...Oh! Halfway in height, tickle me right... It was an Agoran door! “Halfway in height tickle me right...” Hermione thought for a second, then giggled as she tickled the door near the knob. The door shuddered, then stood still.
Hermione opened the door to find a long, dark hallway lit by torches. The smell of cinnamon filled her head.
“Where does this lead?” she thought to herself. Continuing to make her way down the corridor, she caught a glimpse of a door hidden in the shadows.
“Lumos.” she said, attempting to catch a better glimpse of the door. Something about this hidden room intrigued her.
She muttered another charm to unlock the door and walked in to find a bedroom filled with potions and lots of Fire-whiskey. As she looked around she observed that the walls were pitch-black, the chairs were scarlet, and, wait a minute...were those quicksilver-colored sheets? No, they couldn’t be. Those cost a fortune. She sat down on the bed and felt the sheets. It felt like warm water was trickling over her skin and it smelled like...it smelled like...oh, she knew that smell. It was... “Snape!” Hermione gasped as she jumped off the bed. This was Snape’s room? Her breath caught as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. “Oh, no!” she squeaked.
Hermione spun around to straighten the bed, which had conveniently straightened itself. She looked around for a place to hide and decided that the wardrobe was her best bet.
As Snape climbed the stairs to his room he thought about how ridiculous it was for him to have to give the students a day off. He - sniveling Snape, ex-death eater, now spy for the Order - was letting a class of teenagers continue to dwell in idiocy!
“What is the world coming to?” he groaned, to no one in particular. He glared at the door he was now facing. “Stupid door.” he growled. Dumbledore had taken it upon himself to “lighten” Snape’s mood by moving his room to the east side of the castle.
“Severus,” Dumbledore had sighed, “You need more light in your life. I can only give you the sun.”
“Stupid sun,” he growled again. Perhaps Dumbledore thought it would be funny that Snape would have to tickle a door to get a few hours’ sleep. What got him the most, though, was the lack of protection in his temporary room. He would have to set up some barriers pretty soon before those ridiculously idiotic little kids decided to meddle with his stuff.
Snape entered his room, exhausted, and grabbed one of his whiskey bottles on the shelf. He took a couple shots, then decided to chug it straight from the bottle.
Hermione jumped as she heard a loud thud. Wondering what Snape could possibly be upset about now, she peeked through the crack in the wardrobe and saw him passed out and sprawled on the floor. He was mumbling, but what about, she couldn’t tell. She could only imagine it had something to do with when he was a death eater.
She crawled out of the closet, preparing to make a run for it, but then heard Snape give out a painful cry. It was the most pitiful sound; like a man who had lost everything.
She walked over to him and levitated him with her wand to his bed. As she lowered him down and covered him with his sheets, she couldn’t help but notice how peaceful he looked when he slept. No frown-lines. No pursed lips. His eyes flickered open. He looked around for a second until he saw her, then he did the last thing Hermione expected. He smiled.
Snape woke up to birds singing. “Damn you, Albus, you meddling crack-pot,” he groaned as he rolled out of bed. He had had the strangest dream of a girl, no, an angel...Oh, fuck, his head hurt. He’d have to find more of that potion to get rid of his hangover.
After breakfast, Snape stumbled into his classroom. He still felt like crap, and he was reasonably sure it showed. He flicked his wand at the board, where the ingredients started writing themselves. He rubbed his face and looked around at the class. They were all staring at him like he was crazy.
“Potter!” he yelled, “Show me your sample of your potion!”
“Umm...I haven't started, yet, sir. Class just began and, plus -”
“Quiet! Did I say you could speak? Five points from Gryffindor!” Snape barked. “Stupid Potter...” he thought. His nasally voice was the last thing he wanted buzzing in his ear.
“That’s it”, Hermione thought, “I’ve had it with him.”
“Professor Snape!” she huffed, “Perhaps if you spent less time drinking, you would be able to focus! What Harry is trying to explain is that you have put the wrong ingredients on the board!”
Snape sneered at Hermione, then glanced at the board. Sure enough the ingredients for the hangover potion he so desperately craved were written on the board. With a flick of his wrist the correct potion instructions were written. He leaned over and whispered into Hermione’s ear.
“Miss Granger, a word with you outside.”
Hermione shuddered. When he spoke like that, his voice sounded like velvet. It was...sexy...intriguing. “Ugh! What’s wrong with me?” Hermione thought.
She shuddered again, this time out of fear, and then followed Snape into the hallway.
“Miss Granger, I find your protesting very...trying of late. I believe that a week of detention is in order. You will come to my classroom at 7 o’clock on the dot.”
Hermione simply nodded. She was still wondering at the effect his voice had on her. As she turned around, intending to go back to class, he put his arm across her, blocking her path, and her nostrils filled with the scent of him, making her dizzy. God, he smelled good. Why had she never noticed before?
“One moment, Miss Granger.” Snape said, bringing her out of her reverie, “You seem to like answering questions. How is it that you know what I drank last night?”
Hermione’s breath caught and her heart skipped a beat. How could she tell him she hid in his room `till he passed out, then tucked him in bed? Wait...hadn’t he smiled? Didn’t he know she had been in there? No, he had been drunk beyond drunk. He wouldn’t remember anything...
“Miss Granger. Perhaps I imagined it, but did I not just ask you how you knew I was drinking?”
She looked up at him, then said, “You put the ingredients for a hang-over potion on the board. I just assumed that, judging by the state you’re in and the way you look, you have consumed a significant amount of alcohol, therefore receiving a hangover in return. I could be wrong, but I believe drinking alcohol is the only way you can get a hang-over.”
Snape stared at her for a moment, giving his best effort not to smile. After all, he did have a reputation to uphold. What would people say if they saw him smiling at a Gryffindor? But, my god, she was intelligent! “Five points from Gryffindor for acting upon assumptions!” he hissed, then stormed back into the classroom.
“Yes, sir...” Hermione said in a half-daze. She just couldn’t get over the smell of him. Plus, she had noticed a twitch in the side of her professor’s mouth, and, for some reason, she knew he had almost smiled again.