A Likely Story

Chapter 6 of A Likely Story

Severus was relieved when they arrived back at Hogwarts without mishap. He marveled inwardly at how easy it had been. He hadn't even asked her to join him. She'd taken his hand, and looked up into his eyes. He'd raised an eyebrow, and she'd nodded. Then they'd both apparated to Hogsmeade. It was both gratifying and frightening that she could understand him that way.

Potter's words still hung between them, though. He could feel her discontent. She'd obviously not considered that his motive might be so nefarious, which was surprising in itself. He puzzled, as they walked, over how to explain that he wouldn't pressure her without making it sound as though he didn't want -

"Would you like some assistance with the Wolfsbane potion?" Hermione asked suddenly, startling him, though her voice wasn't loud. He opened the door for her and she passed into the castle ahead of him. He scolded himself mentally as he tried to figure out why she thought he'd need help with something he'd done every month for four years. Perhaps she was looking for an excuse to stay? He rolled his eyes at his own hopeful dramatics.

Hermione wondered if she had offended him when he didn't respond. Of course she knew he was perfectly capable of preparing it, it was just that there were going to be so MANY people to prepare it for. She quickly stuttered out an explanation. "I mean, with all those werewolves living in the dungeons, you'll have quite a lot of it to make, won't you?"

Oh yes, Remus' newest pack. "Yes, actually, an extra pair of hands would be welcome," he answered, trying not to let his disgust register in his voice. He was pretty sure she liked Remus, though thankfully not in the same way she'd liked Lockhart. It occurred to him suddenly that he hated all her friends. Well, the youngest Weasleys were finally shedding their more juvenile tendencies, but he truly despised most of the other Gryffindors, as well as Remus, Luna Lovegood, that Abbott girl from Hufflepuff that she'd become friends with last term, and, of course, Potter. He didn't notice his lips curling into a familiar sneer. Potter, who'd nearly ruined something for him tonight that was a great deal more important than anything the boy's father had managed to muck up. He was halfway through a list of things he'd like to do to the sullen little git when he realized they'd arrived at the entrance to his classroom. He'd barely managed a whole sentence since Potter's outburst.

He opened the door for her, amazed at her self-control now that he'd registered the fact that she'd been silent for nearly the entire trip. For her part, Hermione was impressed that Severus hadn't just hexed Harry and been done with it. The thought had certainly run through her mind that a nice splinter hex in his ass might give him something else to focus on besides her - er - honor, as it were.

She knew from her extensive reading that relationships between people of varying ages were quite common in the wizarding world. 'Look at Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall,' she reasoned to herself. There were over 40 years between their ages, and no one had been caterwauling over that. They'd dated for years! 'But what if Harry's right?' The thought leapt into her brain uninvited, and she squashed it violently. Severus had barely touched her, and she supposed this was a second date, of sorts. Either way, she hoped she'd cured Harry of his presumptuous need to defend her virginity. She shook her head as she entered the Potions Master's classroom, swinging her robes from her shoulders and throwing them over a chair in a gesture of familiarity that made Severus start, until he realized that it was HER chair. The same one she'd sat in for seven years. The same one she'd thrown her cloak over when he'd kept the dungeons cold enough to warrant such a garment.

"Perhaps we should go through to the sitting room?" he asked, his voice stiff. Here again was something she could misinterpret if she chose. But after a brief moment of surprise she seemed to realize that this would be preferable to talking in the classroom. She nodded and gathered her robes again to follow him.

He'd thankfully had the house elves clean his quarters a few days ago, and his sitting room didn't get much use, serving mostly as a buffer between his office and his living quarters. It contained the fireplace he used to floo Albus, his most frequently needed Potions texts, and some furniture arranged around a small table. He summoned a house elf to bring them dinner, and was glad when Winky appeared. Winky was the least likely of all the elves to feel obligated to stay and chat.

Hermione had, predictably, made her way to the bookshelf, and he allowed himself a smile when her back was turned. He shed his outer robes and lit a fire before Winky reappeared with rather more food than two people could eat. They sat down in silence.

Hermione, still trying not to think about Harry, thought instead about exactly what she hoped to gain from this. Three weeks ago, dating had been the furthest thing from her mind. Of course, she knew what everyone had said about her in school: "If Ron doesn't marry her, no one will. She's just too smart for her own good," Lavender had commented to Moaning Myrtle and Parvati one day. Hermione had been in the second stall, and Myrtle had known it, but she'd let the Gryffindor seventh year keep talking anyway. "I mean with that frizzy hair, and her nose in a book all the time where no one can see her eyes, how does she ever expect to attract a man?" Hermione had spent another three hours in the lavatory that afternoon. And she knew Lavender wasn't the only one. The fact was that no one had ever ASKED her out on a date until Severus. Ron had taken her to Hogsmeade without Harry only during third year, when Harry couldn't go, and her date with Jonathan had been arranged by her mother. She couldn't help but think just how pathetic that was.

Which brought her around to the question of why she was in Severus Snape's private quarters eating dinner. They barely spoke, even now when he wasn't angry with her for anything. The silence was tolerable, she supposed. At least he was the type of person who wouldn't cajole her into playing chess or watching Quidditch while she was trying to read. She thought back to how nice it had felt when he'd held her at Grimmauld Place. Her stomach had done the same odd flops as when they'd danced so briefly at the convention. Hugging Harry and Ron had never felt that way. She'd gotten a similar feeling from George Weasley once, when he'd put his arms around her upon her arrival at the Burrow, but she'd found out a moment later that he was only hugging her so he could pour his newest experiment all over her hair. Needless to say she'd never felt the least bit of affection for him again.

She was startled out of her thoughts when Severus spoke. "There will be other people who think as Potter does, Hermione," he said, his eyes already focused on hers by the time she looked up. "I hope you are never one of them. I can assure you that your mind attracted my attention..." He could have left it there, but his most recent conversation with Minerva flitted through his head, and he continued before he could stop himself, "...long before I realized you were beautiful."

Minerva had taken him aside after a staff dinner earlier in the week to tell him again that he would have to be more forthright with Hermione than he was accustomed to being. She'd given him the same advice before he'd even asked Hermione to go to the convention, but apparently she thought he needed reminding. As Hermione reached over the table and slipped her hand in his, he felt a great deal of gratitude that he had a friend like Minerva, whose advice had obviously been correct once again. He squeezed her hand and smiled. He would never know it, but it was the most natural smile he'd managed yet.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered shyly, her eyes shining as she grinned back at him. Unable to eat left handed, she squeezed his hand in return and let him go grudgingly. Somehow that had answered her question as to exactly why she was eating dinner with Severus Snape.

"I've given a great deal of thought to how we might go dancing in the midst of this war," he said casually, surprised at himself for starting another conversation so quickly.

Hermione seemed pleased however, and answered, "I don't suppose I'd thought of that. There really aren't very many safe places left."

"No. And Albus discontinued the Halloween dances decades ago."

"You used to have dances? Other than the Yule Ball, I mean?"

"We never had the Yule Ball. That was a Triwizard tradition. Instead we had dances every Halloween. But one year there was a rumor that Minerva had a date, and Albus cancelled the dance to keep her from going with someone else. Of course, the official reason was that many students had lost family members that year, and the frivolity was unbecoming. He only told me later why he'd really done it." This was the longest speech he'd yet made in her presence, and Severus felt rather self-conscious about it by the time he'd fallen silent. What had possessed him to blather on like a - like a WEASLEY?

Hermione, however, didn't seem to notice. Indeed, for several moments she stared at him with a curious expression. Then she asked the question that would put things in perspective for both of them. "Was Professor Warrington teaching here then?"

At first Severus scowled at the mention of his old mentor, with whom he was still quite annoyed. Then he recalled why he was annoyed. Then it occurred to him to wonder what had possessed the old snake to try and 'help Hermione understand Slytherins.' Then he laughed. It wasn't the cold, heartless chuckle he'd placated Lucius with all those years, either. Nor was it the bitter laugh of derision that he saved for his students.

Infectious as it was, Hermione joined in, caught by the sudden understanding of the 'advice' that had been fostered on them both. Winky appeared just as they were falling silent, each with a pleased smile on their lips. The dishes were cleared away and dessert was served. "That would explain a great deal, wouldn't it?" Severus asked, his voice lighter than Hermione had ever heard it.

She nodded. "It would. Do you know, I don't think she and Professor Dumbledore are seeing each other anymore."

"No. Albus felt it was a conflict of interest, and unfortunately the Board of Governors agreed. That was a difficult year for the rest of the staff. He has since taken up with someone else on the Wizengamot. Also a conflict of interest, but there's no one with the authority to do anything about it, so he is content."

This news made the grin fade from Hermione's lips. "I wonder if Prof - er - Minerva is also content?" she asked seriously.

Severus raised an eyebrow. He would never have pegged Hermione for a matchmaker. It was more Molly's style, really. But there was a glint in her eyes that he recognized beyond a doubt. Hadn't Minerva looked exactly the same on that awful evening when she'd tried to set him up with Madam Rosmerta? What a fiasco that had been! He decided to steer the conversation elsewhere and stay far clear of that potential mess.

With a wry smile, he snapped his fingers, prepared to act on the only idea he had left if it would keep his beautiful date out of trouble. Winky appeared, and Severus stood. "Can you produce some dancing music, please Winky, and move the furniture over there?" He gestured vaguely in the direction of the far wall and offered Hermione a hand, pulling her from her chair.

The music began and Severus chuckled a bit. "What is it?" Hermione asked, feeling more breathless (thankfully) than she sounded. He waited until Winky had taken the dessert dishes and disappeared to reply.

"It just sounds like something Crouch would've listened to."

Hermione was amazed to find herself laughing once again with her one-time professor, who she had never before believed capable of it. "You're handsome when you smile," she said quietly, surprising them both. Was he really, or was she just -

"Thank you," he whispered, trying to determine if she was crazy, or, preferably, just beginning to see him differently. He was aware that he wasn't a handsome man, after all. Thrusting the thought aside, he changed his hold on her hand and put his other arm around her waist, pulling her a little closer as they began to dance. Hermione closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest, unconsciously pulling him still closer to accomplish it. Severus drew a deep breath and closed his eyes as well, tightening his arm around her waist and his hand on hers. A long time passed before either noticed how late it had become.