Five
After her encounter with Snape, Hermione went back to her regular routine. She fumed at him for a few days, but she soon returned to her classes, homework, and duties as Head Girl. The only time Hermione interacted with Snape was during class and Order meetings, but the interactions were kept to an almost non-existent level. Snape refused to make eye contact with her at Order meetings, despite Hermione’s vocal participation in the planning sessions, and he avoided her as much as possible in class.
During class, he would occasionally look down at the potion in Hermione’s caldron, but he never acknowledged it. He never deducted House points from her. In fact, he never said anything to her at all. This, however, did not stop him from deducting large numbers of points from her classmates. Although House points did not hold the power they once did, the Gryffindor seventh years still got angry at the principle of Snape taking away points for no real reason.
Two months slowly rolled by, and the war raged on. Disappearances were such a normal occurrence that the Daily Prophet stopped printing them. Hermione’s preoccupation with worry and the sense of impending danger, coupled with Snape shunning her, distracted her from her feelings for him. Although, because she couldn’t help herself, she still kept an eye on his appearance and tried to guess how his spying was going.
One morning, the silence between Snape and Hermione came to an end while Hermione was on her way to Potions. During her walk to class, Hermione’s mind wandered. She realized Snape hadn’t admonished her at all in the past two months. The lack of criticism seemed to have eased her stress level.
Hermione had just rounded the corner to the dungeons and was smiling inwardly, her eyes on the ground, when she walked smack into Snape. He was carrying an armful of gold cauldrons, which were blocking his view, and was heading toward the Potions classroom from the opposite direction. Snape, noticing Hermione at the last moment, attempted to avoid the collision and jumped to the side, but he lost his balance in the process, sending gold cauldrons clamouring to the floor.
“Miss Granger, you would do well to pay attention,” Snape told her angrily.
“So…r...r…y sir,” Hermione nervously stammered as she looked up from the floor. She met Snape’s eyes and was surprised to see he didn’t look nearly as angry as she thought he would. Instead of his normal fury, she saw only annoyance. The annoyance lasted only a split second before the fury Hermione was expecting appeared.
“Granger, detention! Tonight, eight o’clock,” Snape growled. “Oh, and one hundred points from Gryffindor.”
With a wave of his wand, Snape swept the fallen cauldrons back into his arms and stalked away. Hermione rushed into the classroom and slumped in the seat between Harry and Ron. She put her face in her hands and tried to regain the composure Snape had taken from her. It wasn’t even that she was upset about the detention, although she thought one hundred House points was beyond excessive. It was the closeness to him that caused her to become unnerved.
During class, Hermione cautiously brewed her potion and was careful not to cause any more trouble for herself. Thankfully, she made it through class without drawing any more attention.
At dinner, Hermione ate as fast as she could in order to have a little time for homework before she had to report to detention. It’s weird, thought Hermione as she sat alone in her room after dinner. I should be upset about this detention, but I’m not. I’m kind of excited to see him one on one. It was then that Hermione realized she had somewhat of a schoolgirl crush on her Potions professor. What is wrong with me? Why do I want to be near him? Hermione didn’t have much time to continue her line of thinking because she had to leave for detention.
She arrived at the Potions classroom slightly breathless from the anticipation of seeing Snape again. As she was about to walk into the classroom, she found herself wondering if she would be close to him during the evening. Hermione took a deep breath and pushed open the door leading to the Potions classroom where Snape was waiting.
He didn’t look up when she walked in, but she noticed he looked paler than usual. Hermione stood in the doorway for a moment, but Snape still didn’t look up. She tentatively approached his desk. He still didn’t acknowledge her, continuing to lean over his parchment. Hermione stood at the front of his desk, waiting for him to speak to her.
As Hermione stood a desk’s length away from her Potions master, she noticed his cheeks were shallower than normal and he looked almost frail. Hermione watched his long, thin fingers pass across the parchment he was leaning over. She had never noticed how strong his hands were before today. Her eyes drifted up to his face. A strand of black hair lay across his forehead and hung over his left eye. The strand of hair caught Hermione’s attention; she always thought his hair was greasy and unclean, but up close, she noticed his hair wasn’t at all greasy. It looked soft and sleek. Hermione realized the dirty look had only been the potion fumes that always hung around him in class. Hermione’s eyes travelled down to his long, angular chin then up past soft, thin lips. She paused at his nose, which was as hooked as it looked from a distance, and then drifted to his soft black eyes. Wow, thought Hermione, at this distance he is sort of handsome and much younger than I thought. Okay Hermione, get a grip; don’t act mental!
Hermione’s thoughts were interrupted when Snape finally looked up. His eyes met hers for a split second. In that brief moment, Hermione saw what she noticed those months ago in the dungeon corridors: emotion. In that split second, she saw pain, strength, and hope in his eyes. He quickly looked away.
“You will be cleaning cauldrons tonight, Miss Granger,” he said, indicating a pile of foul-smelling cauldrons with all sorts of potion ingredients caked onto their bottoms. “Get to work. Oh, and no magic,” Snape said, smirking.
Hermione went over to the pile and surveyed the scene. The rancid smell, which could only have come from first year disasters, made her wrinkle her nose up in disgust. She swore some of the substances clinging to the cauldrons were living. Oh well, she thought, there’s no avoiding it.
Hermione grabbed a scrub brush, dipped it in a bucket of soapy water that had been laid out, and began to scrub the nearest cauldron. She laboured in silence for what felt like hours, but when she looked up at the clock it read nine, a mere hour after her detention had started. Ugh, I am going to be here all night if I have to clean this whole pile. She set aside the first clean cauldron and picked up her second one. She had only just scraped off two patches of a fuzzy orange substance when she heard a gasp from Snape’s desk. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him grab his forearm and watched the little colour he had drain from his face. Snape sucked in a gulp of air, and the whooshing sound it made across his lips sounded deafening in the silent room.
Hermione wanted to say something, but the look of nervousness on Snape’s face made her think better of it, and she kept her mouth shut. Instead, she just watched him. Snape gained control of the situation and said, “Detention is over, Miss Granger. You may return to your common room.” Snape stood up and headed for the door.
Hermione didn’t know what overcame her; she jumped up and called after him. “Professor!” Snape stopped, let out a sigh, and then turned around. Hermione walked toward him, closing the distance in a few long strides. She stood in front of Snape and looked up into his eyes. He looked terrified. “I am scheduled for the last patrol in the dungeons tonight,” Hermione told him with a sheepish grin. She hoped it came across as friendly and supportive rather than how it felt, which was mental.
Snape didn’t look away. He held her gaze for a few moments before quietly replying, “Thank you,” in a cracked, nervous voice.
It was clear he was scared, but he tried hard to hide it. Hermione swore she saw him tremble slightly. She slowly and tentatively reached up and placed her hand on his bicep. Hermione’s first thought was, Wow, his biceps are stronger than I would have ever imagined. “It will be fine,” she told him, their gazes still locked.
Snape grunted an acknowledgement, which suggested he wasn’t convinced.
“Be careful,” Hermione told him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before letting go. The corner of Snape’s mouth twitched upward in an attempted half grin, and then he turned and swept out the door, his black robes billowing out behind him like the wings of a large bat.
Hermione stood alone in the dungeon room, hoping he would return unharmed.
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Snape didn’t know why he gave Granger detention. It wasn’t entirely her fault he had dropped his armful of cauldrons. His mind was wandering as he rounded the corner, and he wasn’t paying attention to what was in front of him. When he looked up, she was inches from him, and he had gotten startled, resulting in him dropping the cauldrons. He spent a split second flustered, and then he just reacted, giving her detention and taking away House points.
After the words were out, Snape couldn’t take them back. Now he would have to deal with the Gryffindor for an entire night. Hopefully he could just get through the detention without another incident between the two of them. It would be best if they could just keep their distance from each other, but somehow their paths always seemed to cross, even when Granger wasn’t trying to meddle.
As was her studious nature, Hermione arrived at detention right on time. Snape heard her come in but didn’t look up. He kept his eyes down on the parchment he was working on, hoping she would just disappear. Why did I give her a detention? Now I have to deal with her, he thought.
Earlier, in preparation for Granger’s detention, Snape had set out a towering stack of the foulest cauldrons he could find. He planned on having her clean them without magic. When she saw the pile, he wanted her to think she would be there all night. But, there was no way he was going to have her clean the whole pile: for one thing, he didn’t want to be stuck with her that long, and for another, it was just mean, even for him. He couldn’t be that mean to Granger, especially after everything that had happened with them. He had become somewhat fond of their moments together; it made him feel like less of an outcast.
Hermione entered the room, and when he didn’t look up, she walked up to his desk. Snape still didn’t look up. She continued to stand there. I guess she isn’t going away, thought Snape as he felt the girl’s presence standing over him. Time to suck it up and face her, he thought. He looked up, her soft brown doe eyes meeting his, and held her gaze. Her eyes looked so gentle and inviting; he tried to look intimidating, but he knew he failed miserably. Snape came to his senses and looked away, but he wondered if it was really friendship he had seen in her eyes. He quickly dismissed that notion. There is no way she is still interested in civility after what I have done to her, he thought. Although, the notion of a relationship with Granger was beginning to appeal to him.
Snape mentally reprimanded himself for such a foolish idea and told her to get to work cleaning the cauldrons so he didn’t have to look at her. As Hermione began her daunting task, Snape stole a glance at her. He saw the girl survey the pile, a look of defeat on her face. As she reached for a cauldron, he saw the smell hit her and her nose wrinkle with disgust. He chuckled to himself at her reaction. Poor girl; the smell is pretty bad, he thought. He quickly put a stop to his wandering mind and went back to his work.
Everything was going well until he felt the familiar burning sensation on his forearm. This is not happening, he thought. He knew a meeting would be coming, but it hadn’t even crossed his mind that it might be tonight. He had been dreading the meeting for weeks, and now that it was here he felt like a dragon was sitting on his chest. He knew this was not going to be a short meeting, nor was it going to be a painless one. Every day the Order grew more powerful, the angrier the Dark Lord got, and the more he took his anger out on his followers. It seemed each meeting was more painful for Snape than the previous one, both mentally and physically.
When he felt the burning on his forearm, Snape gave an involuntary gasp as the dread of what he had to do washed over him. He knew Granger heard him because he saw her head twitch, stealing a glance in his direction. No matter, he thought, pointless to try and hide it. He stood, told her detention was over, and headed for the door.
He was a few paces from the door when he heard her voice. He stopped, and when she didn’t continue, he turned around. Granger was walking toward him, and before he had time to think, she was standing inches from him. She told him she would be around later; he didn’t know how to react, so he thanked her. However, it came out sounding weak and terrified.
Was that an offer of help? he wondered when Hermione told him she had the last dungeon patrol. He stared at her. Then he saw her attempt at a grin. The side of her mouth curled up, causing her lips to form a lopsided line across her face. Snape smiled to himself. He thought she looked mentally challenged, which was amusing for the girl at the top of her class. He noticed the soft, smooth skin around her eyes. She hasn’t seen the physical effects of age or war yet, he thought. She’s pretty.
Adulthood had been kind to Hermione. Her hair was no longer quite as frizzy as it had been in her youth, and her robes hung nicely over her slender, womanly frame. Snape enjoyed looking at his young student. But then again, he appreciated the beauty of many of his adult students, but they had all been too stupid for his tastes. He needed a mind to match his own, so he had never felt anything beyond physical admiration for any of them, until now. Granger does have a great mind, he admitted to himself.
After Snape thanked her, he began to regret it. His reply hadn’t taken any thought, and for once it was civil instead of harsh. Why is that? he thought. I don’t want to encourage her. I should be able to do this on my own. I don’t need her to care about me. Although, it had always been nice when Albus had cared about him, he had never thought about the friendship much, until recently when he no longer had it. Somehow I always felt better after I had talked to Albus. I wonder if it could be that way with Granger, because as much as I want to handle everything myself, I’m not sure I can. At the very least, maybe I wouldn’t have to divulge personal details about Death Eater meetings to the infernal werewolf. Granger has already proven she won’t betray everything she ascertains. Maybe she could be useful for reporting back to the Order.
It had been getting harder and harder for Snape to continue with his work since Albus died. In addition to not having a friend to talk to, he also had to report directly to Lupin about his spying, and the werewolf asked a lot of questions Snape preferred left unanswered. If he let Granger in he could possibly avoid Lupin and his annoying questions. But if he pursued that course, their friendship would be open to the Dark Lord. It had been getting more difficult with each meeting to keep the Dark Lord convinced of his loyalties, and Snape knew some time soon he would have to open his mind to him. He wasn’t sure he would be able to keep an invasion under his control.
As Snape continued to gaze at his student, he noticed her hand rise and then felt it come to rest on his shoulder. It felt nice, reassuring, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Her touch and words relaxed him some, but he didn’t believe them because he had a premonition of impending pain and disaster. Time seemed to stand still for Snape; the only thing he could think about was her touch. She was telling him to be careful. She’s concerned about me, he thought. She was squeezing his arm; he hoped he would be able to block this memory from the Dark Lord tonight. She was letting go. Time seemed to be moving in slow motion; he couldn’t think about anything. Her hand was gone; he had to go. He whispered something to her but was not completely aware of what he was saying. He was in a daze. He turned and departed the room.
Snape headed outside. The cold air did him good, jolting him back to his senses; he was able to get a hold of himself before reaching the edge of school grounds. He reached the school’s border, stepped through the wards, took a deep breath, and Apparated to the Death Eaters’ meeting point.
The Dark Encounter by Justice180482
Chapter Notes: A/N: More thanks to my awesome beta Stephanie (aka VIVAvivacious) for her hard work and patience with this chapter and for putting up with multiple versions. Thanks for reading and please review it keeps me going!
Chapter Endnotes: Thanks for reading. More to come, please review.