Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Master of the Senses	By : shsa0702 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 29786 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 11
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the affiliated characters. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Going back to work as well as returning to coaching after my most recent surgeries have left me a bit more exhausted than I’ve anticipated. I meant to finish the minor editing and rounding out the end of this chapter when time seemed to just get away from me.
SongOfMyHeart – Thanks for sticking with it and holding me accountable, it definitely got me going again to post this chapter!
ANNECIA89 – I think Snape is such a complex character, it’s hard to tell sometimes what he even wants 😊
ReaperGirl – Glad to see you enjoyed the cliffhanger, hope this helps!
Hermione spent much of that weekend laying low in her quarters. The only places within the castle that really caused her to leave for any period of time included the library and the kitchens, and even then she tried to travel during times where she felt least likely to encounter him.
The only exception Hermione made in her efforts to say incognito was just before dusk when she took time to wander the grounds. Again, she made sure to try and distance herself from the castle lest she encounter the very person she was trying to clear her mind of.
However, try as she might the memory persistently seem to come back to her again and again over the course of the next two days. It was almost like a shameful reminder of what she was to face once the week began, even though she wasn’t quite sure yet how she was going to appear in class with any sense of dignity .
It was like she was being subjected repeatedly to Snape’s creative concoction; every time Hermione felt like she had finally gotten a reprieve from humiliation the image would come swimming back into her conscience and she could feel the burning embarrassment all over again. She could only image what it would be like come Monday. How was she possibly going to face him?
It seemed however she didn’t have much of a choice when Sunday night rolled around and she was met with a familiar note, this time slipped underneath her door.
Meet in the classroom at nine ‘o clock tomorrow morning sharp. Bring a cloak and wear sturdy shoes.
~S
Although she did not require a signature at the bottom to know who the note was from, she did find herself wondering whether he had thought of his first or surname when he had signed the initial below. Hermione felt a subtle heat creeping up her neck as she was yet again reminded of the vision of his first name being torn soundlessly from her lips. She attempted to banish the thought from her mind and proceeded to her small kitchenette to make dinner.
She found herself ravenous as she had spent much of her energy wandering the more uneven terrain of the grounds and it had been a bit later than she anticipated when she had finally returned. After she had eaten and settled down to read her latest find from the library with a cup of tea in front of her fireplace, Hermione found her mind wandering as to what could possibly lay in store for her tomorrow.
Were they perhaps traveling somewhere?
Did they need to replenish some of the ingredients, or maybe they were going to the location where apothecary instruments were crafted.
Worse yet, the thought that kept returning…
Would he bring up what happened on Friday? What could she possibly say in response?
Hermione found that she had trouble concentrating on the pages of her book, and her mind kept drifting back to what her lessons would entail come tomorrow. She found herself scanning the pages mindlessly, something she did not do often if ever, and before Hermione had even noticed her head had fallen to the side as her drowsiness overcame her.
~*---*~
Waking with a jolt, Hermione glanced around groggily as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings. Her book lay open upon the floor, seemingly forgotten as it’s pages were splayed open as it had fallen. The cup of tea she had made last night sat upon the table next to her, cold and untouched.
Stiffly she sat up, turning her neck this way and that. Glancing at the fire, she took in all that remained behind the grate which was a few smoldering embers.
How long have I been sleeping?
Hermione glanced around as she stood, picking her book up off the floor and squinting at the clock above her desk.
8:50 a.m.
Merlin’s Beard, she had slept clear through the morning!
Hermione hastened to ready herself, running towards her bedroom and throwing on the nearest yet most rumpled clothing. She bound her hair back in an untidy bun and slipped on her closed-toed clogs. Running out the door she cringed as she remembered Snape’s note, and grabbed the cloak nearest the door. Unfortunately, there was no time to change her shoes if she wanted to still be on time for her lesson.
With 30 seconds to spare Hermione found herself out of breath and standing outside the door of the Potions Classroom, and she took another 10 to compose herself as best she could before entering.
Snape gave her an inquiring look as she closed the door behind her.
“Everything alright Miss Granger?”
“I apologize Sir, I…erm…was caught a bit off guard by the time.”
“So it would seem.” Snape cleared his throat uncharacteristically, and Hermione could sense the uneasy discussion making it’s way into their conversation with a silent preamble.
“Miss Granger, you would do well to stay mindful of these things in light of our recent professional relationship.” Hermione could have sworn Snape had given just the slightest of emphasis to the word professional. “It would also be beneficial for you to recollect my inclination towards attention to detail; lest you conceive an ideal of me that I’m sure would be false. I’m sure my reputation from your days here at Hogwarts with what some would describe as irritable and perhaps even unpleasant have not been long forgotten. Do not think that because the level of education has changed that you are now somehow exempt from that aspect of my personality; or worse yet draw up a notion of me that eradicates such predispositions all together.”
“Erm…yes, Master Snape.” Is this…a warning? And if so, against what exactly?
“Very well, we should not spend anymore time talking about such things as time is not something we have much to spare of today. This morning we will be recovering potions ingredients from the forbidden forest, I trust you are ready?”
Hermione held up the cloak she brought uncertainly, now regrettably wishing she had taken the time to grab the heavier traveling cloak that hung uselessly in her armoire. However, after the ambiguous conversation they had just had along with the mention of not wasting time, she thought it best to just keep her mouth shut. Opposite her, Snape was dressed in a multitude of layers, including a pair of sturdy Dragon Hide boots as well as a heavy traveling cloak.
Snape raised an eyebrow. “Then let us be off.”
As they made their way out of the castle, Hermione wound her robe around her tightly as another unusually cold day blanketed over the second week of summer in Scotland. While Hermione had enjoyed the residual heat of the sun during her walks at dusk, it’s welcoming warmth was now very much absent as the sky was gray and overcast.
Hermione struggled to keep up with Snape’s brisk pace across the grounds in her loosely fitted clogs, but she dared not say a word. It almost seemed like he was avoiding conversation, keeping just one step ahead of her which honestly wouldn’t have surprised her at all. Surely a pair of sore feet was better received than the embarrassment she would feel at asking to return to her living quarters now to retrieve something he had reminded her to bring only the night before.
As they walked Hermione was actually thankful for the silence as it allowed her to interpret their most recent, although brief, conversation before they had left. While it had not been as distinctly shameful as she had anticipated, it was uncomfortable cryptic. It felt like he didn’t want her to forget the harsh and rude Potions Master from her younger days, even though these last few weeks with him gave her the image of someone completely different. Did the thought of her being attracted to him make him uncomfortable? Or worse yet did he think she was pathetic?
Hermione ran over his words again and again until she felt like her mind was going in circles. Instead, she tried desperately to focus on the sounds of the approaching forest, and thankfully was able to allow the thoughts to leave her mind and it became blissfully quiet, even if it was only temporary.
They finally reached the outskirts of the forest, and the temperature seemed to only drop further as they entered the cover of trees. They wandered deeper into the woods until they reached a small clearing, and Snape retrieved the blindfold from his pocket once again.
“Today we will be gathering ingredients and you will be utilizing your sense of smell to correctly identify them. Miss Granger, why do you think I have begun the week by bringing you out here instead of simply remaining in the classroom?”
“Typically the fragrance of an ingredient tends to be the most potent when freshly harvested.”
“Yes Miss Granger, that is correct. Later this week we will take a look at using some of these ingredients in the classroom, as well as utilizing the sense of smell when brewing. For now I’m going to collect some samples and bring them to you.”
Hermione couldn’t help but give a quick glance around the forest, taking in her surroundings. There wasn’t much to go by; many of the plants around her served no general purpose in the area of potions.
Snape continued, “In order to block out your other senses we are going to use the blindfold, and I will be casting a silence containment charm around your person. I’m warning you that it may be a bit disconcerting to wait while I collect the samples with no external stimuli; but in order to complete this lesson you will need to exercise that particular level of trust with me once more.”
“I think the real question here Miss Granger is…do you trust me?”
The thought rose unbidden in her mind of the last time those words rang through her head, and Hermione’s breath hitched as she felt an simultaneously erotic and shameful thrill course through her body as a reminder of Friday evening.
She swallowed, forcing those thoughts to the back of her mind as she attempted to focus on the task at hand. The thoughts of a silly school girl could not afford to get in the way of something she had worked so hard the last four years to achieve.
“Yes Master Snape, I understand.”
Snape nodded in agreement, and circled around her to place the blindfold over her eyes. Hermione’s world once again went dark, and once the blindfold was tied securely in place she heard Snape’s murmured incantation.
“Continentium silencio.”
Hermione now understood Snape’s warning when he advised her that this could be uncomfortable; cut off from all sound in a world gone dark left Hermione feeling quite vulnerable indeed. Minutes passed, but without the reference of sound it was hard to decipher exactly how much time had gone by. Hermione’s skin began to prickle, but she could not tell whether it was from the cold temperature or the uneasiness of sensory deprivation.
“Miss Granger, do not be alarmed. I have returned.”
Hermione couldn’t help the small jump at the sound of his voice; it was like a boom of thunder in her isolated world.
She felt his hand alongside her elbow, and heard his voice once more.
“I’ve brought back a few samples. Focus, the first one is right here.”
A second passed before Hermione detected a slightly saccharine scent. She took a deep breath, but the scent was so faint she could barely distinguish it from the earthy aroma inside her small bubble of containment.
“Well Miss Granger?”
“It smells…sweet. But the smell is faint. Is it a type of flower?”
She could practically hear the questioning suspicion in Snape’s voice. “Perhaps, but now take your prior knowledge into consideration. What do you know of this environment? What kind of plant could survive the cool weather of this forest and level of elevation enough to produce a flower so early on in summer?”
As Hermione ran through a mental calculation of plants that could fit the bill he set standard to, the forest seemed to bloom before her in her mind’s eye. Snape was right, there were limited flowers that could produce this early in the year; especially with the curiously cold weather they had been experiencing.
“Broom and Hawthorn are able to produce blooms at this time of year, however neither are very useful in the art of potions.”
“Go on.”
“Rosa Moyesii produces it’s blooms at this time of year, but the roses don’t develop until late summer or early autumn. The forbidden forest usually doesn’t play host to many of the domestic types of flowers such as Snowdrops, Magnolias, or Daffodils.”
“Your knowledge of botanical horticulture is impressive Miss Granger. However, it still doesn’t provide an answer.”
Hermione grew frustrated, “If only the smell was a bit stronger…you mentioned that we came out today in order to experience a more well-defined scent. Unless…something is blocking the smell?”
“Well? What is your decision?”
The answer came to her subtly, like a flower cast in shade until the angle of the sun was just right.
“Break it open.”
“Come again Miss Granger?”
Hermione breathed deeply and now she could detect it; the slight earthiness she had smelled earlier was not the ground around her at all; it was actually the skin of the plant which housed it’s blooms on the inside.
“Break open the Shrivel Fig, the flowers are inside.”
There was a slight rustling, and all of a sudden an intense aroma filled her nostrils. Sweet and heady, the blossoms inside bore a strong resemblance to the smell of honey.
“You are correct, now can you tell me which potions we would use this particular ingredient in?”
Hermione breathed deeply, “It is used in Shrinking Solutions, as well as the Elixer to Induce Euphoria.”
It was almost embarrassingly clear how strong of a similarity it shared to the tangy sweet smell of the latter potion she had mentioned. Also it made quite a bit of sense; Hermione knew from her direct observation of watching Snape brew this and her research that the Elixer to Induce Euphoria must be nearly sickeningly sweet in taste.
Involuntarily Hermione let loose a small giggle, “The smell itself is almost euphoric.”
Where on earth did that come from?
Suddenly the smell was gone.
“Take a few deep breaths Miss Granger. You’ll find that many of the ingredients, especially when harvested so freshly, can cause a few of the effects that their brewed counterparts induce. Alternatively, as we discussed during the week prior we find that certain ingredients can counter-effect the most common side effects.”
Hermione felt almost light headed, and as she took a few deep breaths she swore she could smell Peppermint. She shook her head a bit as the smell, along with the giddy feeling seem to ebb away almost instantaneously.
“I suppose it makes sense. Potions are most often orally ingested by nature, but it’s only natural to assume that many can be taken in through other senses such as olfactory.”
“Take just a few more breaths Miss Granger and ready yourself for the next ingredient.”
Hermione felt her chest expand to capacity as she attempted to rid herself of any lingering smell of the Shrivel Fig, and soon she was met with another smell; right away this one came in with a strong, pungent scent.
This again contained an earthy aroma, but none of the sweetness of the last ingredient. This one had a scent almost similar to pine tree resin, but perhaps mixed with dry hay.
Hermione breathed deep once more; she was sure it was a type of grass, but which one?
It has none of the sweetness of Lemongrass, nor the sharpness of Fluxweed.
Hermione began to rule out each naturally occurring herb or grass that she could think of that could grow in the Forbidden Forest.
It can’t be Goosegrass, the scent is too damp and not earthy enough.
Hermione felt as if the scent was coating the inside of her nostrils, and she leaned back a bit to take a deeper breath to clear her head.
This scent is complex, difficult with many layers. It has a tangled or entwined nature, almost like each breath I take has a slightly different smell to it.
And suddenly, without question Hermione knew.
“It’s Knotgrass.”
“Well done Miss Granger, what gave it away?”
“The intricate nature of the scent; it’s so intertwined that it seems different yet runs a host of parallels at the same time. It’s binding nature makes it the key ingredient in Polyjuice Potion.”
Hermione flushed as she recalled the last time they had discussed the use of Knotgrass in relation to it’s binding agent. Is today purposefully meant to create more of an enigma? It seemed like our conversation about Friday was all but directly avoided, but every ingredient seems to be directly related to last week’s lesson.
“Here is the last one Miss Granger. Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Hermione felt her confidence surge through in her voice.
She heard a bit more rustling, and was met with the earthiest scent of the three ingredients. This final one had the smell of freshly turned earth mixed with compost, but it wasn’t an unpleasant scent.
“This one resides close to the ground,” Hermione began, “And requires a damp environment with a good amount of shade.”
“What information does that give you about this one?”
Hermione breathed deeply once more, and her head filled with strange nuttiness that almost made her salivate.
“It’s a mushroom,” Hermione stated, “I recognize the smell from cooking.”
“Now which mushroom to be exact?”
“Well, it doesn’t seem to have the scorched smell of a burning mushroom, and the smell is too muddy to be a Leaping Toadstool.”
“So Miss Granger, what is your final answer?”
Hermione took one last deep inhale, and was suddenly struck with a memory of her mother cooking mushrooms in the kitchen with a bit of onion and sage. But this mushroom is useless in potions, would Snape really put it past her to identify this?
“This is a Wood Blewitt, I used to eat them all the time at my mother’s house.”
“Take off your blindfold Miss Granger.”
Hermione eagerly untied the blindfold at the back but instead of being met with the familiar grey mushroom with a hint of blue in the stem, her eyes found a different sight altogether in Snape’s outstretched palm.
This mushroom had a dark purple, almost plum colored cap. What alarmed Hermione the most was the color of spots adorning the top which divulged its identity immediately.
“Death-cap.” Snape’s declaration was quiet, but unmistakably just as deadly as the fungus he held in his hand.
Hermione closed her eyes, but the image still burned in her mind as if her eyes were open.
“Most notably used in the brewing of the Death-Cap Draught, and unfortunately often mistaken for a more commonly edible mushroom unless fully ripe. Upon maturation, the cap turns from a light brown to a darkened plum with the highlighted spots which gives it’s harvesters the distinct warning.”
Almost like a omen of her disposition, a light mist began to fall upon them.
“But how can you tell the difference from scent alone, and why would you need to?” Hermione’s frustration at being wrong came through in her voice. “Any Potioneer with common sense would correctly be able to identify these mushrooms with a simple glance.”
“Most commonly Miss Granger I find that the best learning comes from realizing our mistakes. The distinction between these two plants is not so widely known due to the fact that Death-Caps only seem to sprout in locations where there seem to be a strong magical signature. This does not exempt them however from the level of danger they carry; they have in fact caused a handful of deaths from careless wizards across history. This lesson serves to show us that sometimes, mistakes can be deadly. Now, close your eyes once more.”
Careless mistakes like a false pretense of one’s personality? Hermione felt the frown on her face give way to curiosity, and she obeyed his directions without hesitation.
There. The damp earthy smell of the Death-Cap was back…but it was different. Something was missing. Hermione breathed deeply again, and it was so acute that she could barely detect it.
Just as she was taking another deep breath in the smell vanished, only to be replaced again almost immediately.
But this one was different…
Hermione breathed deeply, and detected something underlying the earthiness. It was…distinctive, almost more attractive than the previous scent.
She breathed in once more, and it was like a revelation. There. It was like a sweetness, but unlike the Shrivel Fig this one had an unnatural smell, almost like the sickly sweet candies her parents would never let her eat for fear of the havoc they would wreak on her teeth.
“This one has a sweet smell underneath the earthiness…but it’s subtle. Like it’s only there if you are expecting it.”
“Open your eyes Miss Granger.”
Hermione’s eyes fluttered open, and standing before her in each outstretched hand Snape held a mushroom. However the one in his right which was further away, the one she assumed she had smelled first, was in fact the Wood Blewitt. The left contained the Death-Cap, and Hermione could still detect the subtle sweetness radiating from this deadly fungus.
“As a Potions Master, you must always be willing to look for what your eyes can not see.”
“Yes Sir,” Hermione bowed her head, humbled by the experience.
Once more Snape’s finger lifted her chin so that their eyes connected, “Remember Miss Granger, these are the moments in which the learning is greatest. This is only a mistake if you don’t let it alter your future practices as a Potions Master. Take this knowledge, learn from it, and use it.”
Hermione gave a meek smile, and held the blindfold out towards him to take.
“Actually Miss Granger our time here in the forest is not yet complete. We have a few samples left that I could not take with me, however in order to truly utilize your sense of smell we must leave the silencing charm in place, as well as the blindfold.”
Walking through the classroom blindfolded was one thing, but the forest?
Going against her natural instincts, Hermione returned the blindfold to it’s previous place and tied it securely.
She held out her hand, her palm upturned and waiting. “I’m ready Master Snape.”
She felt his larger hand encompass her small one, and they were off once more.
The rain was beginning to increase in its intensity, and Hermione noted that it was beginning to soak through her thin cloak. She shivered as Snape’s palm grasped hers within it, and Hermione found that his was discernably warmer than her own. She tried to ignore that fact, and focused instead on her footing as the ground was growing increasingly slippery.
It was only a minute or two before they arrived at what seemed to be their first destination.
“Lean in close Miss Granger, this is an ingredient that is traditionally more difficult to harvest.”
His hand shifted from her palm to her shoulder, guiding her to lean forward until the smell drifted towards her nostrils.
“Chocolate?”
Hermione couldn’t help it as she grinned when the smell invaded her senses, and Snape let out a derisive snort.
“Try not to be so foolish and use what you’ve learned Miss Granger, is this something you would so readily ingest?”
Hermione took a deeper breath and noticed that this smell, not unlike the Death-Cap, had an underlying scent that was only noticed when she breathed deeper.
“It’s there, this scent seems…fresher. A sort of…succulence.”
“Don’t let the rain water cloud your judgement Miss Granger. Although it was not something I anticipated this morning, it is an environmental factor that you do need to take into account.”
Hermione shook her head, and in doing so a few droplets fell from her face. Hermione took another deep breath, allowing the scent to fill her lungs and overload her senses.
It smells nearly identical to chocolate, but it has an almost electrical smell to it. Almost like…
“Chocolate Frogs.”
“What was that?”
“This smells just like a Chocolate Frog.”
“And Miss Granger do you happen to know the main ingredient that constitutes the formula for this beloved childhood confection?”
“Croakoa,” Hermione breathed.
“Correct Miss Granger. While this ingredient isn’t used commonly in many Potions, Draughts, or Elixers, it still possesses some magical qualities which makes this an important piece of knowledge to retain. However it is also an ingredient that requires some process before it can be safely ingested without any adverse side-effects. Let us move onward.”
They moved more slowly this time, allowing her to follow in his wake behind him with her right hand firmly enclosed in his left, warning her if they started to tread downhill or perhaps needed to duck a bit lower for a low-hanging branch.
The rain was increasing steadily now, the droplets cold as they fell more rapidly and making the ground considerably more slick than before.
Snape let out a low grunt unexpectedly, and spoke quickly to warn her.
“Careful, there is an upturned tree ro-“
But all of the warning in the world would not have saved Hermione from the combination of the slippery ground, her unstable foot ware, and of course her lack of sight.
She felt it just as she heard him saying the words, the toe of her right foot catching on the upturned root. Hermione felt the pain in her foot simultaneously as she fell into Snape, and he grunted yet again with the unexpected impact.
“Hermione!”
As they tumbled to the ground Hermione felt the strange disorientation of falling while unable to see. She landed upon a firm surface that also had just a bit of give, and suddenly her senses were assaulted with a new assortment of smells that she was unfamiliar with.
A woodsy musk. Almost like cedar and oak combined…with an underlying mixture of…cinnamon and amber?
Hermione breathed deep into the myriad of scents again before she realized that her face was pressed deep into the confines of Snape’s traveling cloak as she lay atop him.
She attempted to scramble off of him, and in doing so noticed the well-concealed firmness of his chest that lay beneath his cloak and robes under her palms.
“I apologize Sir, I couldn’t see…the tree root…and…I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
As Hermione pushed herself off of him, he proceeded to help by attempting to steady her shoulders. However, when she placed her full weight on her right ankle she was met with a searing pain and nearly collapsed again as she cried out; this time however he was more ready.
He caught her just below the shoulder, steadying her and providing stability so that she could stand on just her left foot.
“Miss Granger, are you alright?”
His voice was calm, but there was clear concern in his expression.
“I think m-my ankle…” Hermione’s teeth started to chatter, but whether it was from the cold or from the shock of pain in her ankle she was uncertain. All she knew was without the feeling of Snape’s hand around hers to distract her senses, she had just now realized her cloak had completely soaked through and she was beginning to feel the chill deep in her bones.
As he pulled the blindfold off, Snape glanced downward and Hermione was suddenly aware of just how close she was to him.
“The forest floor is soaking wet and ice-cold, otherwise I could assess your injury here.” Her looked her up and down, and glanced upwards at the sky with a sigh of impatience. “And it seems from your attire…or lack there-of, the same could be said about your temperature and that you are drenched through as well.”
Snape pulled his own traveling cloak from his body and wrapped her shivering form within it, and with a sudden, unexpected flourish he scooped her up from underneath her legs and held her close against his chest as he started to make his way back towards the castle. If she had any heat left in her body, it would have flooded to her face with embarrassment.
He seemed to carry her with ease, holding her close against him and although the rain continued to pour Hermione caught hints of the cedar and cinnamon as she gave in to her sudden exhaustion within the confines of his cloak.
“Thank you S-sir, this really is unnecessary…”
“Actually it is quite necessary unless your plan is to spend the evening with some of our less-than-welcoming woodland inhabitants.” Snape grunted as he began a downhill trek, and Hermione snuck a glance upward. His face was etched with a strange determination which could have easily been mistaken as irritation had she not been in such close proximity.
With his traveling cloak wrapped securely around her, Hermione was able to make out the twin silver scars that she had gotten a glimpse of only the day before. Unsure of where to cast her eyes she simply closed them, and before long they had arrived back at the castle.
Both of them dripping wet, Snape carried her directly down to her residence. “You must let us in as I do not have access to your password.”
Hermione felt the shame creep up her face as she murmured, “Hogwarts, A History.”
She felt rather than heard the hitch of his contemptuous grunt in his chest, and although he hid his amusement well by not divulging a sound even he couldn’t hide the well-timed smirk that graced his features.
He set her down on the couch in front of her fireplace, and simultaneously waved his hand to wandlessly cast a roaring fire behind the grate. As his traveling cloak fell open to reveal her thin one beneath as well as the simple dress robes she had worn, she couldn’t help the shivers that racked her body. Hermione felt the heat of the fire wash over her like a warm bath, and she let out a breath of relief.
Snape knelt in front of her, face pale from the cold and hair dripping wet. He reached for her right ankle, and easily pried the damp clog from her foot. He gave the shoe a pointed look, and then turned his gaze upon her but remained silent.
“I know it was foolish, I fell asleep out here last night and lost track of time this morning. I apologize Sir.”
He let out another impatient sigh, “Well the only person you really seemed to inconvenience today Miss Granger would be yourself.”
Hermione closed her eyes in shame, but he spoke again. “See to it that you learn from this mistake, and again use this as a cautionary tale for the future. Better to have lost five minutes at the start of the day and admit to your mistakes than venture out unprepared and cost yourself the rest of your day’s education as a result.”
“Yes Sir.”
Hermione felt his fingers palpate along the edges of her ankle, and cried out as his finger found the spot that throbbed in pain.
“As I thought, definitely sprained if not a slight fracture. I can heal this, but it will be sore for at least a day or two.”
Snape pulled his wand from inside his sleeve, and ran it along the inside of her ankle, murmuring the incantation along it’s path. Hermione felt itchiness of her ankle mending itself from the inside, and resisted the urge to reach down.
“Thank you Master Snape. Again, I apologize for the inconvenience this has caused.”
Snape palpitated it once more, and seemingly satisfied he turned towards her. Hermione realized now as he crouched beside her just how intimate the setting seemed. “You should remain inside for the rest of today and be sure to keep off it as much as you can,” He murmured, and Hermione couldn’t tell if his tone held a note of exasperated apprehension or endearing frustration. “You would do well to get out of those wet clothes, the last thing you need from this is to catch cold.”
“Yes Sir.” Hermione said meekly, and for a moment the image of Snape helping her do just as he had mentioned flashed through her mind.
Snape leaned forward just a fraction more and Hermione closed her eyes in anticipation of further contact. Hermione let loose a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding as her eyelids fluttered closed, and after a moment in which she could swear she felt his warm breath against her face she opened her eyes once more only to be met with the sight of Snape gathering his cloak that was puddled on the floor behind her. He gave her one last curious look before slowly standing, turning on his heel, and exiting.
If Snape thought she was pathetic before, he must think her absolutely pitiful if not a bit bonkers now. Hermione groaned as she settled back into the couch for a long, and perhaps well-deserved evening of misery.
Please leave a review? How do you think Snape feels at this point? Always interesting to see it from the reader’s POV!
- 5
- 6
- 7
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

Master of the Senses