I. In Which Hermione Avoids Adventure
Hermione was avoiding Harry. She had noticed that around April every year Harry began trying to save the world; which was interesting and exciting as long as she and Ron were involved, but as soon as one of them was overcome by petrification, broken limbs, madness etc. it simply became depressing, and distracted from her exams. Hermione suspected that her failure to attain perfect marks last year was directly related to Harry's most recent efforts ("We've been to the forest a hundred times before. Hagrid knows everything there. It's perfectly safe.") For last year this was possibly acceptable, since they had saved the world, or Harry had; but this year Hermione's exams mattered more than ever before, these exams would determine her entrance to St. Bartholomew's, and just this once Hermione was going to do her own studying and let Harry save the world all by himself.
The best way to avoid Harry was to study in Snape's office. Hermione had determined that whenever there was an opportunity for remarkable heroism, Snape was nowhere to be found; thus following him around was the perfect way to avoid heroics. Besides, if one treated criticism as something other than an oncoming vehicle about to smash one's rabbit-like self (i.e., if one was not Neville) Snape was actually a very good teacher. For example, if Hermione looked up from her book and asked, "How can the toenail-parings of the Serpent Chewing Upon the Root of the World possibly be an ingredient in Philter 3758?" Snape would not brush her off with "We get them mail-order, philters won't be on the exam, don't worry about it," but would in fact point out that Serpent and Wyrm were both inaccurate translations of the term megadrakaina or wingless dragon, and the Serpent Chewing Upon the Root of the World had very impressive claws or toes as well as toenails, which one might have realized if one had troubled to find a bestiary . . . No, no, Miss Granger needn't get up, she would find a perfectly adequate volume on the shelf behind her.
The only problem with studying in Snape's office was that his piercing stare was becoming a distraction. Hermione supposed that the fact that she had been almost camping in his office for two weeks straight might seem odd, but she really didn't believe he needed to glare at the backs of her textbooks all the time. Every time she looked up he seemed to be reading the titles with suspicion. On the other hand, she was currently reading the text he had assigned (well, one of the supplementary readings, if she had to be absolutely precise) and he must know what the back of his own textbook looked like by now-so maybe he was criticizing her hair. Better to stop that before he wrote her up.
"If you're looking at my hair, sir," said Hermione, "I can't do anything about it. A high-magic environment increases ambient static, and it was hopeless to begin with, anyway. I'm sorry if it's not up to the dress code, but I really can't help it."
Snape's reply was strangely incomprehensible. Hermione shrugged and returned to her book. The classification of philters was unusually arcane. Didn't the author understand basic arithmagical principles? For instance, this should be Philter 39.8.1, not 3940, unless of course the tongue of newt was a cheap substitute for eye of newt . . .
Snape was definitely staring at her. Enough was enough. Hermione decided to stare back until he explained himself.
The man could stare for a remarkably long time. Ron usually gave up after three or four minutes, and even Harry got bored eventually. Hermione realized she had never quite thought about the way Snape's eyes looked before. They had a fascinating black ring around the iris.
"There's a bit of hair on your robe. Let me get it," Snape said suddenly. (Ha! thought Hermione. I win!) Snape stood up from his chair, walked over, and touched Hermione's . . . breast. Yes, if he hadn't said something about finding a strand of hair, she would definitely think he was touching her breasts.
Hermione felt her neck turning red. She hated the way she blushed. Her ears always turned red, and her neck turned bright red, and her nose got sort of blotchy, and overall she began to look like a pink and underfed version of some obscure primate. Something had to be done immediately.
"It's, um, awfully warm in here," said Hermione, standing up quickly. "I must open a, uh, window." (She hadn't noticed how tall Snape was, either, but suddenly she seemed to be staring at his armpit. How odd.)
"We needn't stand upon ceremony, Miss Granger," said Snape. "If you truly find yourself too warm, you might simply remove your robe and spare us all the expense of heating the out-of-doors."
He had a point, actually. Hermione was opposed to wasting energy on principle, and she really was awfully warm. She removed her robe, folded it neatly, and hung it over the back of her chair. For the sake of completeness, she took off her sweater, too. Then she picked up her book and settled down again. Philter 3942, now this was interesting. What would happen if you gathered the aconite under a waning moon, instead?
Snape was still staring at her. How frustrating, and after she had already beaten him, too. Plus he was still standing over her chair, and Hermione rather objected to being stared down on. Maybe he was trying to read over her shoulder? But he must have his own copy.
"Really, Miss Granger," Snape said, "You can't possibly expect me to believe that you've been spending all this time in my office just because it's a particularly well-heated place to read about philters."
"Well . . ." Hermione answered, playing for time. Should she tell him her theory about Harry, coincidental injuries, and saving the world? Harry might get upset; he and Snape were never quite rational about each other.
"Keep your mouth open, just like that," Snape commanded. Then he kissed her.
Oh, thought Hermione. She hadn't considered this outcome, but it was a good way to avoid Harry. Damn it, she could feel her neck turning red again. Maybe if she kissed Snape hard enough he would close his eyes and not notice? She could just imagine him making sarcastic comments about pink primates.
Snape was fumbling at the buttons of her shirt. Strange, he usually seemed much more coordinated. He was going to break something at this rate . . . Yes, that was a button snapping off, at least she knew a spell to find it again . . . Hermione realized she had better remove her bra before he broke that, too. It was so nice to have the thing off; the underwire rubbed at the space between her breasts and she never could breathe right with it on.
Now he was sucking on her breasts. Hermione felt warm, but oddly motherly. Snape's eyes were shut in bliss; at least she had solved the staring problem.
Somebody was pounding on the door. Or possibly trying to knock it down-- that was a very regular thumping sound. Snape rushed behind his desk and shuffled some papers. Hermione threw her sweater at him, stuffed her bra into his bookcase, buttoned most of her remaining shirt buttons, and pulled her robe on. She hoped she had it on the right way round. And her hair-but there was never anything to be done about her hair. She was sure whoever was breaking the door down wouldn't notice if it was mussed.
Hermione opened the door, and Hagrid nearly fell into the room. "Mr. Snape!" he shouted. "I must find Hermione, have you seen her?"
"I'm right here, silly," said Hermione. "I've been studying here for days now."
"Oh . . . Nice outfit, Hermione," said Hagrid. "And your hair looks especially nice today. Look, can I talk to you in private? I've sort of found something."
Oh dear, thought Hermione. This bore every sign of a new opportunity for Harry to save the world. But Hagrid was looking at her so hopefully, she really couldn't just brush him off. "I'll be back in a few hours, sir," she told Snape, and followed Hagrid out of the office and down the hall.
On to In Which Hermione Encounters a Snake!
Preface and Contents - In Which Hermione Avoids Adventure - In Which Hermione Encounters a Snake
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