A Likely Story

Chapter 9 of A Likely Story

The remainder of the summer went by amiably, with both Severus and Hermione managing to avoid any weighty misunderstandings. They saw very little of Minerva, who'd elected quite suddenly to take a little holiday this year after all. And although she'd been a great deal of help to Severus, he had to admit he was grateful for a break from her advice.

With the help of the house elves and werewolves who'd joined the Order in the last few weeks, many Death Eaters were captured. Now that Severus' true loyalties were no longer in doubt, Fudge was forced to accept his testimony, making it much easier to convict them. Unfortunately this made it still more dangerous for him to be seen anywhere but Hogwarts and Grimmauld Place. The only remaining spy for the Order, whose name had yet to be revealed, had told Dumbledore that the price on Severus' head exceeded one third of the Malfoy family fortune. Naturally Albus forbade him to leave the castle for any reason.

As a result he was banging unhappily around the potions classroom while Hermione, helped by Harry, Ron and Luna, packed her belongings and took them to her dormitory at Geneva University. It was an exciting day, but she remembered to send Severus an owl as he'd requested once she was safely ensconced in her new room. She unpacked quickly, but lingered as she hung her pictures on the walls. She was laughing quietly over the only picture she had of herself and Severus. His arm was around her, his hand resting on her elbow, rather than her waist, and he was stealing glances at her. The smile that came to his face in those moments was fleeting, and as soon as he turned back to the camera it became an ambiguous look of unconcern. She found that both infuriating and endearing.

She was startled out of her thoughts by an unexpected knock at the door. Setting the picture down hastily, she drew her wand. "Who is it?"

"It's Minerva, Hermione. I'm headed back to Hogwarts and - "

Hermione flung open the door, grinning as Minerva finished. " - I thought I'd see how you were settling in before I left." Hermione took a good look at her guest. The stern expression she was accustomed to seeing was gone, chased away by a look of contentment that seemed to have settled permanently over the older woman's features. There was a smile in her eyes that Hermione hadn't seen since Harry was made the Gryffindor seeker in their first year. She invited her in, and went to the kitchenette to make tea.

They chatted for quite some time about the dormitory. Hermione hadn't been sure that she would find a place on campus at all, and was amazed at the size of the place. It was practically her own flat! The rooms were tiny, but there was a bedroom, a bathroom, the kitchenette (with only a bar, no room for a table), and a reception room big enough for a love seat and a bookshelf. It took only a few moments to drag the truth from Minerva - Warrington had pulled a few strings to get her this place. She'd have to remember to thank him.

"So how are things with you and Severus, then?" Minerva asked, perching herself carefully on a barstool. Hermione was a little concerned to notice that her green eyes were twinkling in a most familiar way. But this was her only girlfriend, really, if you didn't count Lavender and Parvati, who wouldn't have understood anyway.

"He's been very sweet recently. Really!" She added that last as a result of Minerva's skeptical expression. "When he says something nice without prompting, I've been rewarding him with kisses. Now he tells me I look pretty almost every time I see him. Well, unless I'm only wearing black robes for working in. Then he just raises an eyebrow and refrains from commenting. You've got to admit that even THAT is an improvement." They both laughed for a moment. Minerva got up to refill her teacup.

"So that's what muggle researchers call positive reinforcement, then?"

Hermione looked up, surprised. "Since when are you into muggle research?"

"I got an odd request a few years ago from an acquaintance in the field who found lab rats too expensive. He wanted me to transfigure rocks or something into white rats so he didn't have to buy them. He was doing some sort of test to get them to learn to press only the square buttons. Nothing happened when they pressed the round ones, but the square ones gave them cheese and the triangular ones gave them an electric shock."

Hermione shook her head. "Well, yes, I suppose it is a bit like that." Minerva laughed again, even more loudly, and Hermione chuckled as well. Neither one saw a scowling face disappear from the fireplace, but then, they hadn't noticed the green flames at all during their conversation. "But it's different as well," Hermione continued. "I mean, you only give the rat cheese to change its behavior, not because you enjoy giving the rat cheese."

Minerva raised an eyebrow, and Hermione rushed on, her cheeks tingeing a pretty pink. "I mean - I don't kiss him JUST to get him to be nice. I've found his sarcasm is actually funny - well, when it isn't aimed at me. And even when he isn't spouting compliments, he's always interesting to talk to. I - I've really grown to like him quite a lot," she finished quickly, her blush deepening. Minerva laughed again and assured her friend that she believed her. Indeed, she was glad that Hermione had discovered the positive aspects of Severus' personality for herself.

It was nearly dark by the time Minerva made her way back to the castle. Classes resumed in only two days, and she had much to prepare. It wasn't until Severus arrived at the welcome feast that she discovered that something was very wrong.

Severus Snape, in full professor persona, swept into the hall a scant minute before the first year students arrived, led this year by Professor Sprout. If he met anyone's eyes, Minerva didn't see it, and he certainly didn't look at her. They'd been friends for nearly 15 years, and he was acting like he had during Harry Potter's first year when the House Cup had been snatched from the Slytherins at the last moment. (He'd refused to speak to her that entire summer.)

Although his eyes never turned to Minerva, he was acutely aware of her scrutiny, and, if anything, it only angered him further. How DARE they compare him to a lab rat as though Hermione was just running some kind of sick experiment? Wonder what the greasy bat will do if I try THIS? he thought scathingly to himself, visions of hypodermic needles drifting before his eyes. He barely heard the Headmaster's speech. Not that it mattered. The daft old coot said the same thing every year. As quickly as he could, he retired to his quarters, warding his door with something extra to keep Minerva out. He just knew she would try to visit, having proved herself to be at least as meddlesome as Albus. And she would surely have ascertained that he was upset.

Upset wasn't the half of it. Three hours and half a bottle of fire whiskey later he realized that he hadn't eaten anything at dinner. He knew better than to summon a house elf. There was a good chance the sneaky old catwoman upstairs had already asked them to report on his situation to her. The only thing for it was to go to the Three Broomsticks. He was ever so slightly tipsy, and between that and his hunger, he managed to forget that he was confined to the castle. Of course, in his current emotional state, he might not have given a damn anyway. Or at least that's what he told himself much later as he stood in Albus' office, listening to the lecture he knew he deserved. No one had seen him, as it had been late, and for that he was thankful. With a full stomach, and the full use of his usually considerable faculties, he could see that he'd been very lucky, and so he weathered Albus' dire tone in silence, and excused himself when it was obvious that the Headmaster was finished with him.

Downtrodden, and no happier than he'd been before, he returned to the dungeon alone. The first two weeks of school were more miserable than any he recalled, even from his own school days. He avoided Minerva and ignored Hermione's letters. Oh, he read them. But then he carefully resealed them and left them laying on a corner of his desk, knowing that eventually Minerva would come prowling around and would see them. He'd decided, after Albus' rather impassioned scolding, that this was for the best anyway. He wasn't going to be an experiment in how to tame a Slytherin, and frankly his life was too dangerous just now for this sort of rigmarole anyway. He assuaged his pride by reminding himself of that last fact, repeating in his head that he wasn't going to pursue Hermione anymore for her own safety. He told himself it had nothing to do with the pain of overhearing her conversation with Minerva. Each day he would have himself nearly convinced by dinner. But after dinner when he walked past his desk and saw the growing pile of unanswered letters; when he passed through his sitting room where they'd danced, he had to admit that he was being delusional. Minerva finally caught him sitting in his office reading the latest letter from Hermione. She'd been busy getting settled in during her first week of term, but this weekend, she was planning to come to Hogwarts. He was trying to decide what he was going to say to her.

"I was starting to wonder if you were planning to keep office hours at all this year, Severus," Minerva commented as she appeared in the doorway. She wasn't smiling. He put down Hermione's letter, and passed a hand over his eyes.

"What can I do for you, Professor?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Minerva was not fooled. "You can explain exactly what's got you angry with me, and why you aren't writing Hermione to start. After that, we can adjourn to your sitting room and you can pour me a gillywater and massage my feet as an apology." She couldn't keep a hint of a smile from crossing her face as he looked up.

Alright, so it was funny. A slight smile graced his features as well, though he did his best to prevent it. "Damn. She's ruined me as a spy, you know," he commented, standing. "All this smiling - " he trailed off with a weary sigh. "Come on then," he said, gathering Hermione's letters and motioning for Minerva to follow him.

For years he'd kept a stash of gillywater in his quarters for these occasions, and he found it now, pouring Minerva rather more to drink than she would have requested. "I heard the lab rat comment," he said without preamble. Minerva choked on her first sip and set the glass down as he poured himself a fire whiskey, emptying the bottle. She glared at him.

"And just how long were you listening?" she demanded angrily.

"Long enough to hear her agree with you." Minerva's anger dissipated as she recognized the defeated tone in his voice. "If she wanted to experiment couldn't she have dated someone like Goyle?" he asked, his eyes glued to the tabletop. "He'd have been too dense to realize or care that she was only - "

"SHE WASN'T ONLY doing anything!" Minerva said angrily, cutting him off. "You didn't stay around for the parts you would have liked you great git! You didn't stay to hear that she liked giving the rat his cheese!" As these words tumbled out of her mouth her eyes widened, but it was too late to take them back. "Oh BUGGER!" she said, standing and turning away.

"Oh bugger is right," said a dry voice from the doorway. They both turned to see Hermione leaning, arms crossed, against the doorframe. She didn't look pleased. "Now you've upset us both, Minerva. Why don't you go back upstairs."

Minerva looked from Hermione to Severus, who was once again staring at the table on which his half-empty glass still sat. "It seems the two of you have more in common than I'd originally thought. Good night. Try to be nice to one another." She swept past Hermione, who managed a half smile in response to Minerva's surprisingly good natured words. She waited for Severus to say something after the door closed, but he remained silent. Finally she spoke.

"Do you know what I thought we'd probably talk about tonight?" she asked quietly. Something in her voice seemed to indicate that she didn't want to be interrupted, so he waited for her to continue, giving no sign that he'd heard. "I thought I'd have to apologize for pestering you with letters. Victor always said I wrote far too many letters for anyone to have time to respond to them all." Again she waited for some indication that he was paying attention. He was playing the part of the petulant child to the hilt, and she was fast growing tired of it.

"I did NOT think," she began again, raising her voice a bit, "that we'd be discussing whether or not I enjoy kissing you. I rather thought it was understood that I wouldn't have continued after that first time if I didn't enjoy it."

'Enjoying it and meaning it are two different things,' Severus thought to himself, gritting his teeth in an effort to remain silent. Her patronizing tone was doing nothing for his temper, and he was positive that SHOWING her his temper at this stage in their relationship would do nothing for their future prospects.

Hermione pursed her lips as she waited. Still he said nothing. The minutes lengthened, but before he quite had time to wonder whether or not she was still there, she spoke again. "I could apologize for what you heard, but frankly you shouldn't have been listening, and I don't think you deserve an apology. Nothing we said was meant to be derogatory in the least. If it bothers you to know that I like it when you smile, and try to find ways to get you to do it more often, then I'm sorry for that." Her voice rose steadily as she continued.

"If it upsets you to know that I love hearing that you think I'm pretty, then I'm sorry for that, too. And if I've somehow OFFENDED you by wanting to kiss you when you've been sweet to me, then I'm VERY BLOODY SORRY. I'll try not to make the same mistake again!" This exclamation was punctuated with the slamming of his office door, and mourned by the rhythm of her footsteps, retreating up the stairway.

Whatever fury he'd been holding back seemed to dissipate like vapor around him, leaving him cold as he lowered his head into his hands. That could have gone better. Apparently she had no compunction about showing him HER temper already. Maybe he should have said something? Surely anything would have been better than this?