From Dire Circumstances

Chapter 3 - Acceptance...

Hermione had returned to her room not long after the moment in the dinning room, collecting a few quills and scrolls of parchment, along with her school texts, depositing them in her bag. Shouldering the bag, she went to the study in hopes to be further inspired for the more difficult essays, namely the potions one.

She walked in to find the professor sitting at his desk; all that could be heard was a scratching quill and a soft afternoon breeze rustling the curtains. 'Oh, sorry, Professor. I didn't realise... I'll just be leaving...' she started as he looked up at her from his work.

'Nonsense, you may stay. As long as you intend to keep that trap shut,' he offered courteously enough, despite the scathing remark. He gestured to the chairs by the fireplace turning back to his work and not looking up again.

'Thank you,' Hermione said softly, ignoring the insult.

She sat and pulled out her work, and for three hours neither said a word. The only sound remained as it had been before, the simple but beautiful scratching of quill on parchment. So concentrated on her work was she that the house-elves that appeared shortly after nearly frightened her out of the chair placing a tea and biscuit tray in front of her. She turned and saw Snape receiving the same treatment.

'Thank you,' she managed as the house-elf bowed low and Apparated with a pop.

She picked up a biscuit and nibbled at it thoughtfully, looking up from her essay to find that Snape was now occupying the seat adjacent to hers, teacup in one long-fingered hand and a book in the other.

'Professor, I hope you do not think it rude me asking, but, what is this place?' she asked, curiosity getting the better of her analytical mind. She had been meaning to ask at their arrival, but had been at a loss for words and decided that it was now or never.

'Not at all, Miss Granger. This is one of my homes, formally known as the Manor on Spinner's End. I have inherited various other estates, but this is the smallest and by the far the most comfortable as well as being the one I frequent most often,' he replied, without taking his eyes off the book.

'Oh,' she said quietly. 'Why this one?'

'Although the house can room up to 20 adults, I find it is the least intimidating of the others,' he said flatly.

Hermione decided to leave it there, not wanting to press her luck with this surprisingly amiable side of Snape, with the lingering chance that he would convert back to the evil Potions master she knew so well. After an hour, her essays were complete, and she cleared the small coffee table of her belongings, returning them to her bag neatly. She moved to the nearest bookshelf to be delightfully surprised by some of the selection.

Amongst the expected books, authored by witches and wizards alike, there was a vast array of what looked like Muggle books. 'Professor? Are these Muggle authors?' she exclaimed, utterly bewildered.

'Contrary to popular belief, Miss Granger, I am not an uncultured, anti-Muggle freak. I do find Muggle literature quite fascinating,' he said, sipping his tea and sparing her a brief thoughtful glance.

Hermione blushed several attractive shades of pink and pulled a book from the shelf with infinite tenderness, returning to her seat before glancing it over. Pride and the Prejudice, by Jane Austen? She gasped. Surely he didn't have that book? She opened to find it in mint condition.

Snape certainly knew how to take care of his books. Careful not to ruin the practically perfect state that it was in, Hermione began to read with enthusiasm and soon found that she had become quite consumed by the reading.

'Miss Granger?' Snape prompted an hour later.

Hermione's head snapped up immediately. 'Yes, Professor?' she asked innocently, afraid that she had already done something wrong.

'There is only one hour until dinner. Perhaps you would care to bathe and dress appropriately for the occasion?' he suggested dryly.

'What do you mean by "appropriate" dress?' she asked, wondering if her robes were now insufficient.

'Dinner has always been a formal occasion in my home. I suggest simple dress robes for dinner every evening and normal robes through the day.'

Hermione nodded, returned her book to the shelf, and grabbed her bag, fleeing the study at a fast pace. Snape watched the retreating form with mild interest. She had certainly gotten taller and seemed quite comfortable for her first day.

He pondered this for a moment, wondering why that headmaster had insisted upon him bringing her, even after they had arrived and he had Flooed straight to Dumbledore's office. He had argued for the man to exercise reason. But on his return, he saw Hermione as completely relaxed, luckily for them both.

Perhaps--just maybe, this would be a good Christmas after all? He set his book on the coffee table and went through the secret door to his room on the third floor to prepare for dinner in 30 minutes.

He pulled out some simple, black dress robes, leaving them on the bed for his own scrutiny, before going for a hot shower.