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A Lesson in Loyalty	By : llorolalluvia Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 5572 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters from it and I am not making any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
…*~*J*~*…
Slug Club meetings had to be the most horrendous waste of time that Hermione Granger had ever been subjected to. For the past hour and a half, they had been forced to make polite chitchat with the old ass-kisser as they dined on marginally-better-than-usual Hogwarts food. Slughorn kept going around the room talking to each student in turn about whatever it was that attracted him to them. For her, apparently, it was what exactly is a dentist.
Meanwhile, her anger was being bolstered, not only by Slughorn’s transparent desire to buddy up to all of the future Greats of the Wizard world, but by Cormac McLaggen’s more and more obvious attempts to catch her eye.
She wouldn’t look at him for the world.
Cormac McLaggen had apparently taken quite an interest in Hermione. And she could not for the life of her imagine why. Apparently, if her record was any clue, she could only attract popular, meat-headed jocks.
Hermione sighed. Harry had been preoccupied all night, so she hadn’t been able to turn to him to talk to either. She supposed he must be bummed that Ginny hadn’t come this time.
“Oh! Harry!” Slughorn began, addressing his favorite of the group once more. “I was telling Severus, you know your old Professor Snape, about your progress in Potions. Can you imagine he was shocked?!” At that, he laughed and Harry and Hermione both became far more alert.
“Well, he’s never really cared for me,” Harry said offhandedly.
“Never cared for you?!” Slughorn laughed. “What a sense of humor you have, my boy! All that modesty, too!” Harry just blushed and turned away. “What was it you did the other day? Stroke of genius! I can’t imagine what made you do it! You just have a natural instinct when it comes to potions! I couldn’t be more pleased! What was it?”
“Ehm…” Harry began awkwardly. “Well, we were brewing the Invigoration Draught…”
“That’s right! Go on Harry! Tell them what you did!”
“Ehm… Well… the directions said to stir eight times clockwise, but instead… I stirred it seven times clockwise and once counter-clockwise…” Hermione found herself glaring at her best friend.
“Yes! Brilliant! And your potion was perfect! Tell us Harry, what on Earth possessed you to do it?!”
“Ehm… Well…” Harry began. He glanced to Hermione on impulse and she looked away disapprovingly. “Instinct, I guess?” If Slughorn’s enthusiastic response was any judge, Harry’s answer had been the right one. Hermione found it all sickening. She should have been the top of the Potions class. Even Snape knew it! In fact, if Snape had still been teaching that class, Harry’s book would have been confiscated by now. With that thought, she felt a fresh surge of seething frustration.
“Tell us, Miss Granger…” Hermione bit back a groan. It was going to be a long night.

…*~*J*~*…
It was like a dream! Ron Weasley had only ever been adequate on a broomstick, yet his name was on everyone’s lips as he stole the spotlight on the field. Nothing could get past him! If she hadn’t been before, Hermione was certainly a subscriber to the Placebo Effect.
Before the game, Harry had made it seem as if he had spiked Ron’s pumpkin juice with Felix Felicis. He hadn’t, of course, but just the belief had been enough to give Ron the confidence he needed to win the game. The entire school was surprised by how well he was doing, and Hermione strained her neck to see how Professor Snape was taking his success, but could not find him anywhere. She longed to shove it in his face that Ron actually had talent without her assistance. They would beat his stupid House after all!
Back in the Gryffindor Common Room, the excitement was tangible as the Weasley twins led everyone in yet another round of their new chant, “Weasley is Our King.” Hermione was very happy for her friend. He deserved a chance to outshine Harry, as petty as that was. But she was getting a headache from all the chaos. All she really wanted to do was finish her homework.
Suddenly, Lavender Brown was in Ron’s arms and their lips were glued together. Hermione gaped in shock. This development was so completely unexpected that she didn’t know how to react. Actually, she was rather surprised by the fact that she didn’t really react at all.
Months before, she would have been horribly hurt and jealous to see Ron with another girl. In fact, she wasn’t really sure when her feelings had changed. More shocking than the sight of Lavender in his arms was the fact that she was actually happy for him. Her stomach churned to think what that could imply.
As the ruckus in the Common Room built up once again to express enthusiasm for the pairing, Hermione sunk into the background. She had far too many things on her mind to deal with all of this right now. Silently, she slipped up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory and started to prepare for bed.
She had been lying in bed looking at the ceiling for what seemed like hours before she just couldn’t take it anymore. She was in far too much emotional turmoil to stay still. What she really needed was some fresh air.
But it was late. Far past curfew. Screw the curfew! If anyone could slip past Filch it was her.
Maybe she should just try to get to sleep.
At that moment her roommates all burst into the room. They were bombarding Lavender with questions about Ron. Muffling a groan in her pillow, Hermione’s mind was made up. Silently, she slipped out of her bed and padded down to the Common Room.
The few who were still down in the Common Room were preoccupied discussing Quidditch—STILL??—so Hermione had no trouble getting through the portrait hole unnoticed.
Already it was as if her lungs had been opened up and she could breathe. She felt strangely exhilarated as she walked, barefooted, down the stairs. When she reached the bottom of that flight, she couldn’t contain herself any longer. Stepping down onto the polished floor she let her bottled up emotions out in a breakneck run.
She ran, uninterrupted, down stairs, through hallways, without any aim or chosen path. It was like freedom. She felt the emotions and stress from the past months crashing away from her like they couldn’t keep up.
She finally stopped in an unfamiliar, dark corridor on one of the upper levels, in front of a large window that overlooked the lake. The half moon was enough light to see the grounds all the way to the gate and the stars were reflected in the glassy lake. She was overcome with such a profound feeling of importance. This is what peace looks like, she thought. This is what we’re fighting for. She sunk to the floor and stretched out on her stomach, relishing the sensation of cold stone floor against her belly. The castle seemed so very large, in that moment. And she could be content to stay right there forever.

…*~*J*~*…
“Crucio!” screamed the icy voice. Voldemort was punishing one of his minions for leaking information to the other side.
“Please!” the man cried after a particularly long bout of torture, “Mercy!”
“Mercy is for the weak!” Voldemort cried as he sent the poor fool into another round of agony. “You will be the example. Fool! Only a fool would betray me for them!”
Severus watched without expression as the man was tortured mad with Cruciatus. He knew exactly what the man was feeling, yet he showed no sympathy. Even when the man was systematically disemboweled and dismembered alive, Severus did not flinch. He was a professional, after all.
It was not until he arrived back at Hogwarts that he was able to let down his shields and collapse in sympathetic agony. Years of practice was the only thing keeping him from vomiting. In his chambers, he took a Calming Draught and Strengthening Solution, before pouring himself a glass of firewhiskey.
That is what will happen to me, one day. This was the thought that he always held back until he returned to the castle. Every time, this is what he could not allow himself to think. Yet it persisted, in the back of his mind, tormenting him.
He finished the glass in a gulp and refilled it. His limbs were shaking and aching from suppressed emotion.
Deciding he needed a walk, he tossed back the remainder of the firewhiskey and left his quarters to wander the castle as he so often did on these sleepless nights. Hesitating at the door, he returned for one last thing.
The bottle.

…*~*J*~*…
They were on the floor. Her face was pressed into the cold stone by his solid weight. He moved against her with need and she turned over to face him. Before she could open her eyes, his mouth was on hers; caressing, tasting, nibbling, devouring.
Her legs were open to him and suddenly they were naked. He was pressing against her with need. She could feel it. His hands roamed her body greedily.
She wanted him. More than she wanted anything. She wanted him to take her.
And she knew he was going to.

…*~*J*~*…
There was something up ahead. His vision was a bit blurry, but he was certain there was something on the ground up ahead. It couldn’t be Mrs. Norris. No. He wasn’t drunk enough to think that curvy lump could be a cat.
It appeared to be a girl. Oh gods. He was in no state to assist her if she were hurt. Stepping closer, he could see the faint outline of the Granger girl. What the hell is she doing here?! Granger had always been the sensible one. She was the last of the damned Golden Trio that he would expect to see out after curfew (not that he hadn’t already seen all of them out after curfew with some regularity). What if she’s hurt?!
Severus stepped slowly over to her, setting his bottle shakily down as he went. She looked to be sleeping. For a moment, he was torn between wanting to dissolve in her peacefulness and wanting to throttle the naiveté right out of her. How can she look so peaceful on such a horrible night?
Her lips were parted as if in a moan. Even in the pale moonlight, he could see a flush on her face. Her hair was wilder than usual from sleep.
His eyes swept her body. It was painfully evident that she was not wearing a bra. Her breasts looked so perky and soft and he could see her hard nipples beneath the thin fabric of her top. She’s your student, Severus! You aren’t allowed to be attracted to her!
She was stretched out at his feet, looking more vulnerable and beautiful than he could ever remember seeing her, yet he did not feel stirrings of desire in this moment. Instead, he had a strange yearning to pull her to him and weep into her hair. Her peacefulness seemed like a strength he could draw from; something that he desperately needed: hope.
He crouched down next to her, with some effort, and reached for her shoulder, losing his balance and bracing his weight with a hand on the other side of her.. Wait, an inner voice said. He wasn’t sure where that voice was coming from. She’s so peaceful. Just look at her a moment.
Severus looked down at the girl. Soon he would have to wake her, and when he did he would have to be mean to her. But right now, he didn’t have the energy to be mean. He wanted to stay here, forever, in this moment of peace.

…*~*J*~*…
His mouth was on her neck. Hands in her hair. Her legs wrapped around him.
He moved against her with mounting passion. Her own emotions and sensations were growing more and more unbearable.
She had never felt anything so powerful.
As if with just one touch she would break apart in his arms.
Suddenly, his strong hand was on her shoulder, shaking. As she startled awake, their eyes met and she burst with insurmountable pleasure, letting a ragged moan escape her lips as she shook beneath him.
Reality set in like a cold, hard, stone floor and Severus Snape really was on top of her—a fact which he quickly rectified. She could feel her face flushing with humiliation, but he only looked angry. He was standing—swaying—above her and she felt the need to stand as well. The facts of the situation were coming back to her, and he did not look pleased.
“P-professor…” she began, but broke off, having no excuse to fall back on.
“Taking a nap, were we?” He raised an eyebrow in vicious mockery.
“I-I didn’t mean…”
“You and your little friends seem to think you own the school.”
“No… I just….” Hermione could not excuse her actions.
“Are the beds in Gryffindor so uncomfortable that you prefer the cold, stone floor?” He snarled. “Perhaps we should alert the Headmaster. He’ll be devastated to hear that his precious Gryffindors have not been provided with suitable mattresses.”
“I was only…”
“Fifty points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger.” He seemed to think this was not adequate, because he then added, “And detention with me tomorrow night.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered. Lowering her eyes, she caught sight of an object sitting on the ground not far behind Snape. It was a bottle. A bottle of firewhiskey. Her eyes shot to his in surprise. Her notice was not lost on him, however, and his brow creased in a deep scowl.
“Come, Granger. Back to your tower.” He turned and Hermione started to follow him. As they passed the whiskey bottle, Snape silently and wandlessly summoned it into his hand and then it disappeared. The display was quite impressive.
“Why do you always call it my tower, Professor?”
He did not answer her, and for the rest of the journey they remained silent. She didn’t dare think about the amazing sensation she had had when she had awoken from that dream. But she did wonder if he knew.
How could he not?
Snape took her right to the portrait hole and, to her surprise, called out the password. As the portrait swung open, Snape turned to leave.
“Goodnight, Professor,” Hermione murmured as he swept past her. She saw him hesitate, but he did not respond.

…*~*J*~*…
- 7
- 8
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A Lesson in Loyalty