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Written in Blood	By : Corinna Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 20663 -:- Recommendations : 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.

Chapter List
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This is going to be a longer chapter, which is very necessary to the plot. Well, aren�t all chapters necessary to the plot?

Settle down, you�re in for a long haul.
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"No, Miss Granger, three drops of hellebore. Not two, not four. And certainly not five!"
Hermione looked up from the potion she was brewing, somewhat miserably. While she had always been the best in her class (apart from Draco Malfoy) she was rapidly beginning to realize that a certain something was missing from her potion-brewing talents. The private lessons from Snape were helping, though. And she had to admit that since Professor McGonnagal�s ultimatum two weeks earlier, she had been sleeping better, and consequently performing better in the classes she was still permitted to attend. She still felt a pang of loss when she thought of Muggle Studies and Herbology, but she had to admit that neither of those was really what she wanted to focus her time and energy on. For the first three nights after she had been released from the Hospital Wing, she had tried everything she could think of to get Harry and Ron to sneak her somehow into the library, but they hadn�t budged. Harry had even resorted to hiding his invisibility cloak from her, but she couldn�t really blame them, as they were most likely under orders from McGonnagal, if not Dumbledore himself.
She turned her attention back to the Enhanced Awareness Potion she was brewing. Much more efficient and effective than the general sort of potion they�d learned earlier, it was also much harder to make. The class had not even attempted to tackle it yet, but Snape assured her it would help her immeasurably with her exam. She needed every bit of guidance Snape was giving her, albeit reluctantly.
She had to admit that she�d seen a change in the Potions Master, and certainly for the better. No longer greasy, even Ron had been forced to reduce his insults to simply "git" or find something more creative. Predictably, he merely referred to Snape as "git."
"What do you know, Ron," she had snapped the day before at breakfast. "You don�t even take potions anymore."
"He�s still a git, Hermione!" Ron protested. He had been under a lot of stress recently, with Hermione�s problems as well as his own. Under strict orders directly from Dumbledore not to add any pressure to Hermione�s workload, he had been on tenterhooks for two weeks around his best friend and girlfriend, and Harry was no help. Fiercely determined to be an Auror at whatever cost, Harry was only taking one or two subjects less than Hermione. After the seventh or eighth time Ron had tried unsuccessfully to persuade one of the towers of books that were his best friends to abandon their studies and go a round at chess or exploding snap, Ron had taken to spending more time with Dean and Seamus.
Hermione�s attention was immediately wrested back to the present as Snape swept over to her cauldron to check her progress. He stared at the simmering cerulean mass for a moment, then raised his head and pronounced it, "Excellent. Surprisingly excellent."
Hermione felt a little swoosh of excitement in her stomach. "Really, Professor?" She had been trying to master this particular potion for the better part of four days, with no success. The most she had ever gotten from Snape in the way of a complement was "mmmm," which was hardly reassuring. To hear an "excellent" from Snape was unheard-of. To perform an excellent, and she a Gryffindor, was something akin to a miracle. For the first time since the summer, she began to think she might actually pass her Potions N.E.W.T.
"I do not believe, in fact," Snape went on to her astonishment, "that I have ever seen so perfect an Enhanced Awareness Potion. Some celebration, I think, is in order." Wearing the closest thing she had ever seen to a benign smile on his face, he motioned her to the back of the classroom, turned one of the jars on his shelf to an exactly 45 degree angle, and revealed a secret door. He bowed ironically to her, and motioned her through, following closely.
She stepped out of the darkness, surprised at what she saw. She found herself in a large, spacious room decorated in emerald and sable (well, he was head of Slytherin house, after all), which looked more like a family room than anything. Large, plush chairs and a gorgeous carved writing desk were the main fixtures, and it gave her a pang to realize that no more than one of these chairs had probably ever been filled at a time for a good many years. How lonely he must be, she thought.
He gestured her to seat herself, which she did, as he swept over to a large oak dresser, and emerged after rooting inside for a few moments, with a dusty bottle. With a wave of his wand, two glasses appeared on the small table next to Hermione, which he promptly sat on the other side of. Hermione watched in fascination as Snape deftly pulled the cork out of the bottle. He poured her a glass of the stuff, which looked to be champagne. She had only tasted it a few times before, on holiday with her parents in France. She had liked it passably, but not enough to want more. This, however, she realized as she took a sip, was really good. The bubbles tickled her nose pleasantly, and she giggled as she put her glass down.
Snape�s eyes immediately fixed on her at the unexpected sound. Realizing she was merely reacting to the champagne, however, he seemed to relax. Clearing his throat, he said, "I brought you here because I wished to congratulate you." His eyes seemed to soften as he told her, "I have truly never seen a student work so hard in my class as you do. Not even that confounded Percy Weasley." He snorted in contempt.
Not quite sure how to respond to this admission, which was all but unheard-of from Snape, she sipped her champagne again, and settled for nodding.
"I did not, however, invite you back here to listen to me prattle your virtues to you." To Hermione, he looked like he was at a bit of a loss as to what to say, as the situation likely hadn�t arisen for him for some time. Knowing he had brought her back here at least partly to take her mind off work for a small while, she tentatively suggested, "Do you own a chessboard?" It was the best she could think of, despite her personal aversion to the game.
Snape sighed. "Miss Granger," he began, but Hermione cut him off quickly.
"We don�t have to play chess, Professor, I just thought�"
He held up a hand to forestall her apology. "I merely meant to warn you, Miss Granger," he said as he waved his wand and a chessboard appeared on the little table, " I a I am grossly out of practice. I am sure with the slightest effort, you could easily put me in check in a matter of minutes. I�m sure that your young Mr. Weasley has taught you maneuvers I know nothing about. I understand that he is quite the expert at chess." His mouth quirked slightly, reminding her of that long-ago night in her first year when they had though Snape was in league with Voldemort. He seemed to read her mind, saying, "I do not believe I ever complemented you on the solving of my puzzle that year. Although I admit I was more than a little put out that not only the Dark Lord, but a gaggle of first-years managed to get past every one of the traps laid for older, experienced wizards."
She blushed at the complement, and at a gesture from her Professor, began the game.
Despite his protestations, it was a very close game. She was amazed to see that he had no taste for wizard chess, instead relying on proper carved ebony and ivory pieces. They were intricately carved, with proper bodies and faces for each pi No Noting her look, he smiled. "A gift," he told her, "from my aunt, before she passed away."
The game drew to the wire, but in the end the victory went to Snape, involving a very bold pawn and an over-careful queen. Expecting an outburst similar to Ron�s she sighed, and waited. It never came. She glanced up, to see his extended hand, and took it, cautiously.
"That was well-played, Miss Granger. My condolences on your loss."
She was surprised to realize that she really did not care that she had lost. "That�s all right, Professor, it was a very good game. Perhaps next time I�ll win." The words were out of her mouth before she had considered them. Was she expecting there to be a next time? That was a bit presumptuous. Surely this was a one-time thing. She was about to apologize when he surprised her.
"Perhaps you will."
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She climbed in the portrait hole, still thinking of the enjoyable evening she had just spent in the company of Snape, of all people. As she entered the common room, she was immediately accosted by a flurry of red.
"Where have you been?" Ron demanded, grabbing her shoulders roughly. "We�ve been worried sick about you! We thought you were in Potions with Snape, but we checked his dungeon and you weren�t there! We checked the library, but Madam Pince said she hadn�t seen you all day. We thought you were dead!"
"Oh, Ron," she snapped, irritated with his mollycoddling, "do relax. I was with Professor Snape, but we weren�t in his classroom. We went to his private chambers."
Oh, that was the wrong thing to say. Ron turned red, purple, white, green, and finally red again, before gasping out, "WHAT?????? You were in Snape�s private chambers? What the�what were�why did�what did�"
Suddenly completely frustrated with him, she snapped, "We were playing chess, not that it�s any of your business. And it wouldn�t hurt you to be a bit more mature!"
She turned on her heel and stomped up to her dormitory. She heard Ron shout, "I don�t trust him, Hermione!"
The last thing he heard before her door slamming was, &;I c;I can take care of myself!"
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Her potions skills improved by leaps and bounds in the next two weeks, so much that Draco Malfoy�s face, and not his potions, turned green in class, so envious of her skills was he. It seemed that she had made some sort of breakthrough that night in Snape�s classroom. Potions now seemed more accessible, made more sense. Harry was trying valiantly to control his own jealousy of her newfound skills. It was not that she was actually performing so much better, merely that it came far more easily to her now.
Hermione was one of the people to whom few subjects came easily, the remedy for which, according to her, was simple hard work. None could ever deny that Hermione worked harder than any one else, and it paid off. She was easily the top grade in all her classes�now, Potions as well, finally topping Draco Malfoy.
Her private lessons took on an easy rhythm. Snape would assist her in his overgrown-bat sort of way, with making a very difficult potion that he had assigned her to research the day before. She would brew it, and if it were to his liking, they would retreat to his chambers and play chess. They were somewhat evenly matched on that score�some days he would win, some days she. There was none of the tension or frustration involved with playing Ron, though. They played in silence, each contemplating the next move, and analyzing the board. And no gloating followed either. There was merely the contentment of a well-matched game.
If the potion were not to his liking, she would brew it again, until it was. Then they would play chess.
She had started to purposely avoid Ron, as he had taken to snapping at her whenever he saw her outside of class, making remarks about the size of Snape�s nose, the fact that he was head of Slytherin house, etceteras. Apart from being quite annoyed by this, Hermione was confused. What did it matter who she made friends with? It wasn�t as if she were honor bound to spend every waking moment with Harry and Ron, even if they were her best friends. So I made a new friend, she thought, then realized she meant it. Severus Snape was her friend. She enjoyed his company, his wit, and his knowledge.
She was lost in contemplation of this when she literally ran into Ron. "Oh, sorry, didn�t see you there, Hermione," he said a bit loftily. "Thinking about dear old Snapey, were you? Sorry to interrupt�"
"Shove it, Ron," she snarled. She was extremely fed up with his petty feud with Snape, begun back in first year.
"Well," he said, pretending to ponder his thoughts, "I really don�t think much of your taste, Hermione. the then again, you always did have a thing for older, big-nosed, grouchy gits, didn�t you?"
He smirked at her, and went off to the Great Hall for breakfast.
She gaped at his retreating back, still trying to comprehend what he had said. Then, all of a sudden, it made sense. All of Ron�s behavior, all the jokes, and the comments. Ron was jealous. She had known that all along, of course, but she had thought that was just because she was spending more time with Snape than with him. Ron was jealous of Snape, she realized, because he thought she had a crush on him. It was enough to make her burst out laughing, causing a second-year Hufflepuff to glance at her, startled, and move quickly away.
"It all makes sense!" she shouted joyfully to the frightened second-year, who began to run. Not caring who saw her, she collapsed against the nearest wall, laughing hysterically.
"The�very�idea!" she gasped, finding it difficult to breathe. "That I�and Professor Snape�" she trailed off suddenly as something occurred to her.
"Bollocks," she told that part of herself sternly. "Bugger off." Suddenly not hungry for breakfast, she changed direction abruptly and headed back to her dormitory.
"Yerba Santa," she told the Fat Lady absentmindedly, and climbed in the now-open portrait hole. She flopped down on one of the couches to mull over this new development.
"Hello!" Ginny Weasley popped out from behind the sofa, causing Hermione to shriek and fall onto the floor.
"What are you doing here, Ginny?" she demanded.
Her friend shugged nonchalantly. "Dunno, wasn�t hungry. You?"
"Had to think about some things." Hermione sighed, and climbed back onto the couch, putting her head in her hands.
Ginny plopped down next to her, and asked her knowingly, "Is it about Snape?"
Hermione did a double-take. "How did you know that?"
Ginny shrugged again. "Well, do you need to talk?"
Hermione nodded, then shook her head, then nodded again. She gave her friend a hard look. "This is in all secrecy, right?"
"Absolutely."
Hermione sighed. "I think I might have a crush on him."
"Of course you do."
Hermione sat bolt upright, shocked. "How do you know that?"
Ginny laughed. "Hermione, I�ve been your friend for what, six years? I can tell by now!" She began ticking points off on her fingers. "You use a smoothing charm on your hair whenever you go to one of his �private lessons�, you get a dreamy look in your eyes whenever someone mentions potions, you defend Snape whenever Ron calls him a git�"
"But he isn�t a git!"
"You go to his private chambers when you finish your potions, and for heaven�s sake, Hermione, you skip to his classes! How many more reasons do you need?"
Hermione put her head back in her hands. "I don�t know. I just never�"
Ginny gently pulled her hands away from her face. She asked softly, "Do you want to tell me what�s so wonderful about him? Because from where I sit in Potions�"
Hermione furrowed her brow, then seemed to come to a decision. "All right," she said, "but you can�t tell anyone."
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Written in Blood