Inappropriate Hopes

Inappropriate Hopes

By Clairvoyant Snake

As I sit across from her, I can feel her eyes trail across my face; lingering just a bit longer than is termed acceptable. I can only imagine what those eyes of hers see in me. Maybe she is trying to understand me. To help me? I doubt it. She is but an angel; her heart goes to everyone.

I am not worthy of her.

I never will be. Ever.

Her soft cinnamon eyes continue their routine of trailing my eyes and face. I throw her a severe glare, hoping to get her off my case; maybe hoping that she won't pity me any longer...wasting her time, I say.

She seems to notice the look, and to my amazement she doesn't shy away.

That's a first.

She bites her lip in that 'oh so innocent' way that makes me wish to hold her and tell her my thought, my feelings, my true emotions...

But that would be inappropriate. Surely?

~~~

"Wham!" "Splash!"

The sound of a cauldron and its contents hitting the cold stone floor of the dungeons made everyone turn their heads in the direction of the perpetrator.

Hermione Granger.

Severus Snape sent her another cold glare and in his softest, most dangerous voice said, "Detention. Seven o'clock. Sharp. And twenty points from Gryffindor. You will make this potion again tonight." When he saw everyone still staring at Hermione, he snarled, "As much of a nuisance Miss Granger has proven to be, I had hoped you would not follow her example by not paying attention."

The entire class quickly turned to their cauldrons once again.

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley themselves had turned in their seats to find out what caused Hermione of all people to fail an assignment. When Professor Snape had turned his back, the two poked Hermione. One from each side. She shot them each a look asking 'What do you want?'

Ron quickly ripped a side off his parchment and scribbled the following: What the hell happened? Did Malfoy mess with your cauldron or something?

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly. Then she too wrote back to Ron.

No, Malfoy didn't do anything---for once. The cauldron just tipped over from lack of balance. You know how these old tables are...Slimy from previous classes and dented from all that cutting up of ingredients.

Ron seemed to accept this, but he hastily wrote another message. You could tell he was angry about something; what with his ears tips going all red.

But 'Mione! Snape gave you a detention for THAT!? Why didn't you speak up and say it was an accident.

She wrote:

Because he wouldn't believe me, even if I did.

~~~

Why must she torment me with those knowing eyes? Those beautiful, intelligent, knowing eyes.

She must know why I gave her that detention. She knows what she did. And it most certainly was intentional.

Maybe if I talk to her...She'll leave me at peace for once. Maybe even stop pitying me.

~~~

Hermione quietly made her way to the dungeons, careful not to disturb the taunting quietness of the halls. Most of all, she didn't want to anger Professor Snape. She had seen the troubled look on his face on more than one occasion, and she wanted to know what was wrong. Although most people, except perhaps Professor Dumbledore, could never and would never dare to notice their dear Professor Snape's emotions, Hermione was one for noticing every little detail. Even the more obscure ones. Professor Snape always showed his emotions in the utmost ironic fashion possible. A sneer equaled a smile at times; a scowl equaled submission; a nod -even the more severe or most subtle ones, showed agreement or acknowledgement. He was truly a walking puzzle. One that Hermione loved to solve and figure out.

Knocking on his hard wood door sent unwanted 'thumps' into the air. Surprisingly, it startled Hermione instead of comforting; she should've been, what with all that noise in the Gryffindor common room. A sound came from within, it was Professor Snape.

~~~

"Come in!" Professor Snape yelled at the door. He didn't raise his head from grading papers until Hermione had reached a seat and sat down. He sent her a glare, hoping that she would get too frightened than to repeat anything he said to her.

He noticed her nervously playing with the hem of her cloak, twisting it round and round her shaking fingers. Good, he thought, she's under my control.

"Now, regarding your detention," Professor Snape stopped and pretended to look down at his 'imaginary list of things for students to do for detention'. He continued, "You will help me make potions for the infirmary". Hermione looked shocked, she had thought he would have her clean all the toilets of Hogwarts---without a wand; using a toothbrush. She couldn't help but sigh from relief which granted her with Professor Snape's glare once again. But he had raised an eyebrow nonetheless. He wondered why she should be so happy to assist him; and then he realized the real reason she was here to begin with.

Setting up the cauldrons on a low boil, Professor Snape and Hermione Granger started cutting up roots and other various ingredients for a Pepper-up Potion. He decided to talk to her when she was done holding a knife and not a threat anymore.

Stirring the now boiling liquid, Professor Snape turned to look at Hermione and tried not to smile. She was anxiously waiting for him to assign her next project. She had already finished her class work.

"Miss Granger, I noticed that the little incident in my class today was most definitely not an accident. What caused you to throw your cauldron over the desk?" He asked her.

Again, Hermione bit her lip---cutely, in Professor Snape's opinion.

She answered much to his surprise, "I did it because I wanted to talk to you. Alone."

Professor Snape's eyes widened in false shock. He replied, "I know my charming good looks and personality have drawn you to me, but pray tell, Why the sudden interest? When it's been here all these seven years that you've know me?"

Hermione's eyes fluttered to the ground in embarrassment.

"Well?" Professor Snape urged on.

"It's not as if I feel bad for you or anything, but-" she stopped to look up at him, "I couldn't help noticing that you look so far away and distant all the time. I only wanted to help-"

Professor Snape cut her off abruptly, "You," he snarled, "would never want to help *me*, if you found out what I truly am! Don't try to play the almighty Gryffindor with me girl!"

Hermione opened her mouth in protest, but decided it was safer if she let him continue talking. He might even tell her something of importance, she thought vaguely.

With another snarl, Professor Snape continued with his rant, "*You* would never be able to help me. Never. My days in the war have scarred me for life and nothing, I repeat nothing or anyone can make it all go away!"

She realized what he implied. That he *couldn't* ask for help; that his situation guaranteed that every person he loved would die if his secrets -which she found out about from Harry in their fourth year- were found out by Voldemort. Unfortunate really, that the poor man had to suffer because he was helping countless wizards and witches from their deaths by sharing his stolen information to Albus Dumbledore. She felt not pity, but empathy.

For she knew how it felt to be in a war that seemed more difficult to win with every day.

But for her, at the moment, Severus Snape the person -not the teacher, -not the spy, needed her more than he was ever going to admit. And she knew that winning him over as a friend would be one the most difficult battles she would ever have to fight.

~~~