Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Spark	By : DivineAngel Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 20930 -:- 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
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter 5: The
Moment and The Letter

A week went by before
Hermione's next out of lesson visit to the dungeons. She knocked on
Snape's lab door after dinner and quietly opened it, slipping in and
closing it carefully. Snape had his equipment laid out on the work
bench and was sitting hunched over a book. He looked up as Hermione
entered the room and gave her a curt nod

"Hi." She
smiled and walked over to him.

"Here." Snape
passed her a book and indicated the stool opposite him, Hermione sat
down and began flicking through the pages of the ancient book. The
time passed quietly and slowly, the odd comment exchanged about clues
found or something more mundane, but mostly a heavy silence hung in
the air as the two of them went over every scrap of information
relating to the potion and Voldemort. It was almost eleven o'clock
when Snape stood up and stretched. Hermione looked up and watched him
reach up and lean back to stretch the muscles in his back and
shoulders. His lean figure was evident even through his robes and
Hermione's thoughts wandered to what he might look like in tighter
clothes, her attention was grabbed by the following thought of what
would he look like without any clothes? At that her eyes
snapped back to the open book in front of her, wide with surprise at
herself. Snape walked around the bench and paced behind Hermione. She
was acutely aware of his movements and found herself not reading, but
longing for him to move closer to her.

Hermione idly turned the
page of the book and her breath caught in her throat. There was an
illustration of a figure convulsing under the Cruciatus curse, it was
incredibly life-like, the facial expressions jerked and the head
snapped back and forth in a way that clearly demonstrated the severe
pain of the torture. A small whimper slipped from her and before she
knew it, Snape was right behind her, looking over her shoulder at
what she had found. Hermione put a shaking hand over her eyes, trying
to steady her nerves. Snape was so close, she could feel his robes
brushing hers.

He put his hand on the
bench beside her and leaned over for a better look at the book, his
face was inches from her and Hermione could feel his breath ruffling
her hair. His shoulder was almost touching hers and his groin was so
close to her hip she felt herself tense up and her heartbeat quicken
in response.

"It's nothing, just
a picture." Hermione finally managed to say, feeling Snape's
eyes on her. She dropped her hand from her eyes and turned the page,
her breath still shaking from the closeness of him. Still he didn't
speak, but remained leaning over her.

Snape was reluctant to
move away. He wanted to comfort Hermione somehow, but couldn't find
the words and was wary of any kind of physical contact. His arm was
rigid, his hand glued to the bench and every muscle felt hyper-tense.
The distance between their bodies was virtually nothing, Snape hadn't
been this close to a woman in a long time and part of him longed to
close what little distance there was. After a moment that seemed to
last forever, he wrenched himself away, filled with regret for ever
agreeing to let Hermione help him.

The rest of the evening
slipped by quickly and with great tension in the air. After only half
an hour Snape could no longer bear the difficult silence and suddenly
stood from his stool and slammed his book shut. Hermione looked up at
him, surprised by the sudden noise and movement.

"Professor?"
Snape began piling the books up, then cleared his throat.

"I think it is time
to call it a night. Thank you for your assistance, Miss Granger, I
believe you should return to your dormitory before it gets too late."
There was a distinct snarl in his words and Hermione knew it was
pointless to object. She nodded and tried to help tidy the books
away. Snape watched her for a moment, her hair swinging across her
back as she crossed the room to place the books on the bookshelf. It
was less bushy these days than when she was younger, he noticed.
Something inside him snapped back into focus, he was acutely aware
that he had been watching her and scolded himself for the lapse.
"Thank you, I will finish here, you should go." He turned
and picked up the remaining books, Hermione stopped still and looked
at him for a moment.

She wondered if she had
done something wrong, this sudden change in Snape's behaviour was
confusing to say the least. He seemed angry, frustrated and clearly
wanted her gone. She went to her stool and tucked it away under the
bench.

"Um, when should I
come back?" She asked carefully. Snape was by the bookshelves
with his back to her, his shoulders lifted as he took a deep breath.

"After dinner on
Tuesday." He answered without looking at her.

"Ok. Goodnight."
Hermione left quietly, in a state of utter confusion about what had
happened and how she felt. Her reaction to his close proximity took
her by surprise. She had been growing more fond of him since the
summer, but never thought of him sexually before. She had felt
unmistakably sexual feelings on this occasion, butterflies in her
stomach and a tingling sensation between her thighs. She walked
slowly up to Gryffindor tower, mulling over her thoughts and
feelings. No answers came to her and as she got ready for bed in the
quiet of her dormitory, she found herself more muddled than ever.

The weekend came and
Hermione pushed aside her feelings about her Professor. She sat in
the common room while Harry and Ron played wizards chess, both of
them subdued, which was pretty normal these days. The other students
were more lively, there was a steady buzz of noise and activity
around the quiet trio. A voice floated across the room to where they
sat, it was Dean.

"Let it in! It's
windy out there and it's got a letter, look." There was a sharp
breeze as someone opened the window. Hermione looked up to see a
scruffy brown owl hopping around on the table under the window, a few
people fussing around it. Dean removed the scroll from the owl's leg
and strolled over to Hermione. "Here you go 'Mione, it's for
you." He handed it to her and went back to his game of exploding
snap with Seamus. With barely a raised eyebrow from Harry or Ron,
Hermione opened the letter with little attention.

Dear Hermione,

I should have written
sooner, I'm sorry. I think I assumed it was best to let sleeping dogs
lie. But I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. It was all so
stupid, the whole thing, what happened and how I handled it
afterwards.

I want to apologise
for how I reacted, I care for you so much, Hermione, I shouldn't have
pushed you away, it wasn't your fault. I was just so afraid of the
consequences and I tried to accept responsibility by distancing
myself from you. But I realise now that I was wrong. Our relationship
is more important than that, especially now. We need to stick
together. It's been hard, since Sirius... well, I value your support,
you know that.

I can't wait to see
you at Christmas, we can talk properly and sort it all out.

Love Remus

Hermione tucked the
letter away in her pocket, blushing slightly. The memory of that
night back at Grimmauld Place came back to her and her blush
deepened. She stood up and slipped up to her dormitory to read the
letter again. She spent most of the afternoon reading it carefully
and running over the events of that night, both her encounter with
Remus and her conversation with Snape. The kiss was intoxicating and
remembering it sent a warm shiver up her spine and brought a smile to
her face. She knew she didn't have romantic feelings towards him, but
she felt connected to him somehow and the kiss they had shared had
heightened that feeling. She hoped now from his letter, that they
would be able to grow a firmer friendship and leave the awkwardness
caused by the kiss behind them.

Her thoughts turned to
Snape, she felt a growing appreciation for him as a man, a hero of
the Order, a talented potions brewer and a man deeply touched and
scarred by the trials of his life as a spy. Since the research
session the other night, Hermione had realised how attractive he was.
Not at all in a conventional way, of course, but he clearly had a
lean and athletic body under those billowing robes and his eyes were
so piercing she felt sure he could see through walls if he tried. She
knew that her reaction to him standing so close to her was more than
automatic, she had never felt that way when pressed up against Harry
or Ron. When she went out with Viktor, she had felt something
similar, indeed, there had been quiet passion between them and they
had slept together several times. But with Snape it was far more
intense, he was forbidden fruit, after all, a teacher and someone who
hadn't always been easy to trust. There was an exhilarating sense of
danger in that lingering moment of not quite contact and remembering
it now returned the tingling feeling to her body.

His reaction to that
moment had surprised Hermione at the time, but with hindsight, she
supposed it was understandable, he must have felt something that he
considered inappropriate. Hermione smiled at that, if he felt
something then he must be attracted to her. A funny sort of hope
swelled inside her and she began to feel a wonderful nervous
anticipation about seeing him in Potions on Tuesday and even more so
about being alone with him again. She carefully folded the letter and
slipped it into the back of her homework diary for safe keeping.

At breakfast on Monday,
Hermione couldn't help but glance up at Snape from time to time. He
looked as surly as ever, nursing his coffee. Maybe it was her
imagination, but she thought she caught him looking at her too.
Neither Harry or Ron had asked her about the letter and both seemed
more distant and quiet than ever. Harry poked his eggs with his fork
absently, his appetite seemingly lacking. Ron sat staring up at
Professor Sullivan, his toast in hand half way to his mouth, slowly
going cold. Hermione inwardly tutted at them both and tried to just
get on with eating and putting thoughts of what she would like to
happen with Snape out of mind.

She didn't see much of
Ron, he scurried away between lessons and at the end of the day he
left the hall after dinner just after Professor Sullivan with a
determined look on his face. Hermione watched him go and leaned close
to Harry, who was slowly making a dent in his mashed potato.

"What's Ron up to?"
She asked.

"Hmm?" Harry
looked up and followed her gaze after Ron. "Oh. I think he's
following her, he's getting a bit obsessed." Hermione rolled her
eyes. It was sad to see Ron is this state, but a bit too pathetic of
him for her to feel any real sympathy. She swore to herself that she
wouldn't get like that over Snape, not that she even had a crush on
him, of course, but just in case...

"Harry?" Her
attention turned back to him, he had returned to his food
reluctantly. "Are you ok?" He nodded silently and gave a
half smile through his food. Hermione thought it best not to push, it
hurt to see him so depressed, she wished she could magic away the
pain for him.

Tuesday came and Hermione
woke with butterflies in her stomach. She got dressed slowly, taking
care that she looked her best. Her room mates cast her questioning
looks and muttered to one another quietly, wondering what on earth
could prompt Hermione to make this unusual effort.

Across the castle, Snape
was up early as usual and was sat in his quarters trying to read his
notes kept over the long years of spying, looking for anything he had
noted about Voldemort's protective spells. But he found that he
couldn't focus. He had been staring at the same page for an hour, his
thoughts were drifting along the corridors and up staircases, to the
portrait of the Fat Lady and up into the dormitory of a certain,
incredibly bright, beautiful and sensitive young woman. His eyes
fluttered closed and he saw Hermione in her room, lying on her bed
sleeping, no, awake but with her eyes closed in pleasure. He was
kissing her neck. His eyes shot open and he stood quickly, his notes
spilling to the floor.

"Shit." He bent
to pick up the scattered parchments, they were now out of order but
he didn't have the patience to sort them out now. His thoughts had
surprised him and left him rattled. He hadn't such thoughts about a
student since Audrey Sullivan had given him a feisty attitude that he
couldn't help but respect in her final year. He pulled himself
together quickly and headed for breakfast.

Snape was early to the
Great Hall, only a few students were already there and he took his
usual seat next to Professor Sprout. The hall slowly filled, Snape
watched the door over his muesli. His spoon was half way to his lips
when he saw Hermione enter, it hung in front of him, dripping milk
into the bowl below. She looked odd, he noticed that her hair was
tied up in a loose knot, with stray tendrils brushing her neck and
shoulders, her robes were hanging just right over her curves. Had she
actually altered her appearance? Or was he simply seeing her
differently since his imagination flared earlier? He shook his head
and returned to his breakfast, he had to shake off these feelings.

Snape didn't go to the
hall for lunch, he had some sandwiches brought to his office while he
marked the second years' latest essays. They weren't up to much, as
usual. It was rare that any student below the fifth year showed any
real promise in his subject. It was downright exceptional that there
were two students in the same year who had both shown signs of a
natural aptitude towards potion-making from an early age, Draco
Malfoy and Hermione. He'd been reluctant to admit it to himself and
had been careful not to exhibit any visible signs towards her of his
belief in her abilities. He had wanted, he supposed, to test her, to
see if she would continue to develop and thrive under the exact same
conditions as his other students. Her development had continued to
impress him, she was by far the most competent student in the school
and he secretly acknowledged to himself a grudging admiration for her
continued efforts to assist Neville Longbottom. He almost wished
Longbottom had continued Potions to NEWT level, so that he could
continue to be entertained by Hermione's clever and subtle
assistance.

The lunch hour ended and
Snape left his office, entering his classroom by the side door. He
could hear rumblings outside in the corridor and knew the sixth years
were gathering at the door. After seeing that everything he would
need for the lesson was ready, he went to the door and flung it wide
with his usual flare. The small class stood waiting, a ripple of
conversation, excluding Malfoy, came to a halt as the students filed
into the room. Snape stood by the door as they entered, his eyes
fixed on Hermione and hers on him as she passed him and she turned
her head to maintain their eye contact, finally looking away with a
sexy smile as she reached her seat. Snape suppressed a smile himself
as he closed the door and stalked to the front of the classroom.

He began the lesson,
determined not to be distracted any further by thoughts of Hermione.
He did well, he thought, keeping busy with marking and answering a
few questions here and there. He kept his thoughts in check.

Hermione half-heartedly
did the set reading and took notes, she wanted to get Snape's
attention somehow, wanted him to come over to check over her work and
lean over her again. But she couldn't think how to get her way and
wasn't sure she had the nerve. Snape didn't look her way all through
the lesson and she became more and more frustrated and less focussed
on her work. The bell rang to indicate the end of the lesson and the
day. Hermione's temper was short, she didn't know why it bothered her
so much, but she wanted to get to dinner and back for her research
session with Snape as quickly as possible, desperately wanting to be
alone with him. She packed her things hurriedly, slinging her bag
over her back and following Harry from the room, making sure her hips
were swaying seductively as she left, hoping Snape was watching her
leave.

Snape stood from behind
his desk as the students disappeared out the door. His eyes were
firmly fixed on Hermione as she left, her hips had a distinct sway
that held his gaze. He tutted at himself and walked towards the door
to close it, as he approached, he noticed a piece of folded parchment
on the floor by Hermione's desk. He stooped and picked it up,
unfolded it and let his eyes run over the scrawling script. His
muscles tensed all over his body as he read the words and on seeing
the signature, 'Love Remus', he slammed his hand down hard on
the desk, the noise echoing around the empty classroom, leaving him
with a stinging palm and a scowl on his face.

AN: Ta-da! Chapter 6 on it's way, but only if you review. If not I won't know that you want more! :-)
- 4
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Spark