Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Lions, Snakes, and Traitors, Oh My.	By : half_blood_princess Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 7717 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters therein. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 8
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“Professor Snape! I’m not leaving!”

No answer.

“I’m not going anywhere! You have to talk to me!”

Inside his office, Snape resisted putting his hand through his desk.

Students would begin to file in at any moment, and he wasn’t about to have a spectacle waiting for them.

He threw the door open, to Hermione’s surprise.

Grabbing her arm, he pulled her inside his office.

“I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions! It was as much you as it was me!”

“You are my student, and it doesn’t matter what you’re capable of.” He sighed, wishing he would be struck dead at any moment—anything to save him from this.

“I used to think you were this cold, unfeeling bastard. It’s when I saw you nearly die that I realized the sacrifices you’ve been making for us all along, and that you do care. You care a great deal. I don’t have any romantic notions of us having any kind of life together, but…well…you’re so much more than I believed you to be. What I can’t believe is that I’m about to say this…but I want to consider what you offered. I want to explore this. Whatever it is. Gods, you infuriate me. But you bring this heat and desire in me that no one else ever has. I need to know why. I have to.”

“We cannot do this. I won’t allow it.”

Hermione opened her mouth to speak again, but Snape cut her off.

“You daft, unbelievable girl! Dumbledore knows.”

“Oh, gods. Oh…oh…gods. How? I didn’t tell anyone a thing!”

“I told him. This is wrong.”

“You could lose your job!”

“I won’t. He still needs me to play my part. But I refuse to bring any more scandal to this institution.”

She couldn’t disagree with the last bit…and he was very important to the Cause. She blushed, and folded her arms across her chest. Hermione was beginning to feel just a bit foolish. A few tears fell down her cheeks, and she wiped them away, quickly. Hermione hated showing her weaknesses in front of anyone—let alone Snape.

Snape sighed. He saw the tears, and knew that she was blaming herself for his troubles and her feelings.

It irritated him to no end—both in the fact that he was irritated by her frustration, and that his irritation irritated him.

“I have classes in less than ten minutes. This is not the time, nor the place to discuss such things.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. Meet me back in this classroom no later than two-thirty. I assume you’ll be discreet about where you’re going if Potter and Weasley ask.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“You’ll no longer have me as your professor, Miss Granger; this, I will not budge on. Now, get out of here before my students come in and wonder why you’ve been crying.”

She nodded and left quickly.

The rest of the morning was a blur, to Hermione. She barely registered the conversation she’d had with Ginny, in which the youngest Weasley was talking about Dean Thomas and Harry—and some argument they’d had over her.

Transfiguration was uneventful, and she studied for Defense Against the Dark Arts during lunch; she couldn’t eat.

Hermione found herself outside the Potions classroom at two, but decided that would look a little too desperate and walked around the hallways for another twenty minutes, gnawing on her thumbnail and wondering what the hell she was going to say to Snape. Severus.

Two-thirty came, and she knocked softly on the Potions door, afraid to enter…secretly hoping he wasn’t there.

But the door swung open and there he stood. Her heart dropped a little.

“Prompt as usual.” He muttered, ushering her inside. The heavy door slammed shut, and she jumped.

“Professor—”

“Quiet, Granger.”

She bit her lip and looked away.

“And for goddess sake, stop chewing on your lip.”

Her eyes darted to his again, and she blushed. What was he doing to her? Surely, she was under some spell. Maybe they’d both been slipped some Amortentia when neither was looking?

“Dumbledore knows, as I said. My job is not in danger. You’re legally an adult. I’d prefer you just bugger off, but it seems like that’s not going to happen. I shouldn’t have Obliviated you. But I shouldn’t have…taken advantage of you, either. For that, I am sorry. Take note, Granger—I rarely apologize.” He stomped around the classroom, gesturing with his hands. Hermione’s eyes followed him carefully. When he noticed her gaze, he stopped and crossed his arms, scowling.

“What is it, Granger? Why are you staring at me?”

“You really mean it?”

“What?”

“You’re sorry?”

“It was the wrong course of action to take…”

“You didn’t take advantage of me. I…I wanted it. But, I accept your apology for Obliviating me. That was wrong.”

He snorted derisively.

“You don’t know what you want, Miss Granger. Seventeen-years-old, and not a clue. Don’t worry; this won’t matter in five years. When you look back on this moment, you’ll laugh and wonder what it was you saw in your greasy git of a Potions professor.”

Her face reddened even more, and she threw her hands in the air. Her frizzy mess of a mane seemed to take on the anger she felt, and flew around her face.

“Excuse me! I don’t recall you ever asking me how I feel about all of this! I may not be experienced in or know much, but I do know myself. I don’t just do things for the hell of it, Professor. And, whatever it was that sparked between us, we both felt it. I’m not just another dumb girl, so don’t treat me like one.”

“Oh, please! Spare me your romantic notions, Miss Granger. I’m not a knight in shining armor, and I certainly won’t sweep you off your feet.”

“I don’t need anyone to save me—and I’d like my feet to remain firmly planted, thank you. I’m a force to be reckoned with, and everyone here knows it. You wouldn’t have any interest in me whatsoever, if I weren’t. I push your buttons and you like it!”

“Granger,” he growled, “You’re damn right you push my buttons. What do you think is going to happen, here, exactly?” He stepped dangerously close to her, towering over her small frame. His black eyes stared right into her soul, and she shivered.

“I don’t know, but I think we should at least explore it.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes.

“What part of ‘I’m a wanted man’ don’t you understand? I could be killed at any moment.”

“So could I. Whoever betrayed you obviously knows more about the Order. I suspect they’ve told You-Know-Who everything they know about Harry…and Ron…and myself. We’re all waiting to die, by your reasoning.”

She had a point, the annoying little chit.

“I don’t know why I like you, Professor. You drive me insane. You’ve belittled me for years, and you’re not likely to stop anytime soon…but…gods be damned, I can’t help but want to kiss you right now!”

Closing the distance between them, she rose. He was still towering over her, but she looked up into his inkwell eyes, and before he could speak, she kissed him roughly.

He grabbed her by her arms and shook her gently.

“What are you doing?”

“What you won’t.”

“This can’t happen.”

“It is.”

“You bloody fool.”

“Perhaps.”

“You’re not giving up, are you?”

“Not in the least.”

“I can’t promise you anything.”

“So don’t.”

“You have to finish your NEWTs.”

“Fine.”

“Don’t expect any special treatment from me, girl.”

This time, it was her turn to snort.

He raised an eyebrow.

“If you treated me any differently than you do now, I’d wonder who stole your body in the middle of the night and replaced it with a pod person. No danger of that happening, Professor.”

“Very funny, Hermione.”

She bit her lip again. Her entire face was flushed now, and Snape rolled his eyes.

“I told you to stop biting your lip. It’s unbecoming.” He put one hand around her lower back and brought her flush against him. His other hand came to her face, and his thumb gently pulled her bottom lip out from underneath her front teeth. His hand rested then on her chin. She kissed the palm of his hand.

“What am I going to do with you?”

“Whatever you like.”

He inhaled sharply, stepping away from her.

“Go to your next class, Hermione.”

“Professor—”

“Go. Now. Or you may find that I take you up on that offer. I’m a man with much self-control, but most of that seems to go out the window where you’re concerned. For now, there will be no secret meetings, or snogging in dark hallways. Finish your classes and your NEWTs. If you still want me then, you know where I am.”

He turned away from her and once more retreated to his office, shutting the door gently this time behind him.

“All right. I will.” She said quietly, knowing he could still hear her.

_______

The next few months were relatively uneventful. She was still not allowed off of school grounds, which suited her well because she spent most of her free time studying for the NEWTs. Harry and Ron teased her relentlessly until about a month before the exams, begging for her help, as usual.

Voldemort and the Death Eaters had been unusually quiet during this time.

Hermione rarely saw Snape, as he had kept to his word and transferred her out of his Potions class. The few times they passed in the hallway or she’d seen him in the Great Hall at dinner, he refused to look at her.

She knew he was trying to distance himself, to prepare for the inevitable—surely she’d forget about him, he must have thought.

No such luck.

He invaded her dreams, almost nightly. He was the same surly Potions professor she’d known, but he was hers. And he made sure she knew he was his.

Romantic? Perhaps a little.

But the idea of being sexually dominated thrilled her. In the dreams, he took her every which way—she may have been a virgin, but she had an imagination and an insatiable curiosity about the world in which he’d let her in on.

Sometimes, she found herself fantasizing while awake.

Was this love? Or just lust?

One afternoon, Hermione was eating breakfast in the Great Hall, reading a book on the history of Dark Magic. Ginny suddenly put her hand in the middle of the page, causing Hermione to look up, startled.

“What is going on with you, Hermione?”

“Ginny, you scared me! I don’t understand? I’m studying!”

“Liar. You’re my best friend, and I know when something’s up.”

She sat down next to Hermione.

“Ron and Harry say you’ve been really preoccupied lately.”

“I just told you I’ve been studying.”

“Yes, I know. For your NEWTs. But there’s something different about you. You’re much less talkative than usual, and when your head’s always in a book, it usually means you’re processing something. You’re never in the Common Room, and you haven’t been to Hogsmeade with us in weeks.”

“I’m just nervous about the exams.”

“UGH Hermione! Come on. Who is it?”

“Beg your pardon?”

“I know it’s a guy.”

Hermione shook her head.

“You’ve finally lost it, Ginny. You know me. There’s no one.”

“Liar.” She giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re blushing. It’s a dead giveaway. Come on, ‘Mione. Give it up. Who is it?”

Hermione packed up her books and slung her rucksack over her shoulder, standing to leave.

Ginny sat, arms crossed.

“Oh, for goddess’ sake. Follow me to the ladies’. I’ll tell you, but you can’t repeat a word—to anyone.”

The redhead clapped and squealed.

“They grow up so fast!”

“Oh, shut it.” Hermione groaned.

When they finally reached the girls’ bathroom, Hermione threw her bag on the ground and checked the stalls to make sure no one was inside.

Once she was certain they were alone, she leaned against the wall and crossed her arms.

“Well? Inquiring minds want to know!”

“You have to promise…”

“I won’t tell anyone, I swear!”

“No. Not that. You have to promise you won’t judge me—and let me explain.”

“It’s not Draco Malfoy, is it?” Ginny gasped.

“Oh, goddess no! Not that weasel!”

“Thank goodness. I wouldn’t have judged you…much…just so you know.”

“Thanks for that.”

“Who, then?”

“…Professor…Snape,” she whispered.

Ginny looked shocked for a moment before bursting into laugher. Tears rolled down her freckled cheeks, and she clutched her sides. Hermione tapped her foot in irritation, and huffed. After a few minutes, Ginny finally stopped laughing and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“You really had me going for a moment there, Hermione! Come now. Who is it, really?”

“I’m serious.”

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence, and Hermione wondered if she’d made the wrong choice. Would she lose Ginny as a friend?

“You really are. Gods.”

“Yes.”

“How? When? Why? Oh, oh…I can’t believe this. You have to tell me everything, Hermione. Are you okay? Did he slip you a love potion? He is the Potions Master.”

“Circumstance. A few months ago, now. And I don’t know why. I just…I just like him. I’m fine, he didn’t slip me a potion, and he feels the same way—though he’s just as surly as ever.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“Did you kiss?”

“What? I…yes. A couple of times.”

“Oh. My. GODS!”

“SSSSHHHH, Ginny! Do you want all of Hogwarts to hear you?”

“How do you know this isn’t some ploy—that this isn’t for the Death Eaters’ benefit?”

“It’s not. I know most people don’t trust him Ginny, but I do, with my life. I have my reasons, and I can’t tell you everything. Just please believe me when I say I’m okay, and he isn’t going to hurt me.”

“How can I?”

“I don’t know. Try.” She sounded a bit like him, then; she was irritated and growing more so by the moment.

“You can’t just tell me something like this and expect me to be okay with it. He’s tortured my brother and Harry for years. And you, too!”

“I wouldn’t call it torture. More like harassment. But you’re right. He isn’t perfect, by any means. However, Harry and Ron haven’t always been exactly nice to him, either.”

“He’s a Death Eater. You know it, I know it…the whole bloody school knows it. He hates Harry, and he’s—”

“You don’t know anything about him, Ginny, so stop trying to tell me what he is or isn’t!” Hermione shouted. “I shouldn’t have told you! Gods, I’m so stupid! Just forget I said anything. And don’t you dare breathe a word of this to your brother or to Harry!”

Hermione grabbed her bag and ran out of the bathroom. Ginny called after her, but she kept running until she reached the Gryffindor dorms. Hurrying to her room, she collapsed on her bed and cried for the first time in months. She knew Ginny meant well…

It just wasn’t fair. None of it.

To top it all off, her NEWTs were in a week, her parents were officially in hiding with Arthur and Molly Weasley—which meant Voldemort was probably planning something soon, and Snape was in danger.

She sobbed into her pillow and hugged it close to her. Being unsure of the future was one of the things that Hermione hated most, but she’d be damned if she fell so low as to ask Trelawney to read her fortune.

“One more week,” she told herself. “One more week.”

______
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Lions, Snakes, and Traitors, Oh My.