Ordinary People

The latent causes of faction---

Severus was shaken. More than he'd care to admit, even to himself. The idea of seducing Hermione in her dormitory had been a rather appealing impulse at the time, but he obviously hadn't fully considered the potential repercussions. The worst, of course, resulting in Hermione's expulsion and his dismissal.

Maybe Hermione was right--maybe Miss Patil hadn't seen his face. And then he could slip out of Gryffindor tower unnoticed and no one would ever know that Hermione's mystery paramour was, in fact, her Potions professor.

The Gryffindor Common Room was decidedly more populated now than it had been thirty minutes ago when he'd slid through it the first time. In fact, most of the older students were present, milling about.

And in the middle of it stood Miss Patil, animatedly recounting her experience to a curious Potter and Weasley. Severus winced but lingered to catch fragments of the conversation.

"I was going up to see if Hermione wanted to go up to the Great Hall early for supper," the girl was saying, looking very distressed, "and when I walked in, there she was. In bed ... with a boy!" She sounded absolutely scandalized.

Potter's eyes widened and Weasley grinned. "Who?" he asked eagerly. Severus itched to punch the obnoxious boy.

Miss Patil shrugged. "I didn't see his face. They fell off the bed when I came in and Hermione started screaming at me to leave. Well, I wasn't going to stay around and argue. I think it's appalling. In the middle of the day like that."

"Wow ..." Potter said. "Who would have guessed?"

"I know," Miss Patil continued. "I mean, who'd she find? She's so ... mousy."

Severus' hands slowly clenched into fists.

"Be nice, Parvati," Potter chided. "Just because Hermione isn't an exotic whatever doesn't mean anything. It's nice that she's found someone who doesn't care what she looks like."

His knuckles whitened. Potter probably thought he was being kind to his friend.

"Guess she isn't being as careful about her Mystery Lover as we'd thought," Weasley said with a little laugh. "Good for 'Mione!"

"What about Hermione?" Longbottom asked the little group as he sauntered in through the portrait hole.

"Parvati caught her in her dormitory with a boy," Potter breathed. "And they were ... you know ..."

"In a compromising position," Weasley completed with a grin.

"Really?" Longbottom asked. "Huh."

"What's going on, then?" Miss Weasley joined the group, wrapping her arm around Longbottom's and giving him an adoring gaze that made Severus' stomach turn.

"Hermione's been holding out on us," Longbottom told her with a smirk. "Parvati says she just caught her with someone."

Miss Weasley's gaze brightened. "Really? Who is he?"

"Dunno," Weasley told his sister. "Parvati didn't get a clear look. Shame. Harry and I have a good bet riding with Hermione on the identity of the fellow in question."

"I did see dark hair," Miss Patil offered.

Severus sucked in his breath. Please, please don't remember my face, he prayed silently.

"And he was really, really skinny."

The group was silent for a minute. "I vaguely remember a Hufflepuff that graduated a couple of years ago who sort of looked like that, maybe," Weasley said finally. "How tall was he?"

"Tall as you, I think," Miss Patil said. "His feet were hanging off the edge of the bed, at least."

"You got an awfully detailed look for someone that didn't see his face," Potter chided.

"It's weird, the things you remember when you've been shocked beyond all reason," Miss Patil said thoughtfully.

Severus had heard enough. Miss Patil apparently hadn't seen his face and he had no interest in listening to Hermione's friends' idle speculations on the matter. Quickly and as quietly as possible, he slipped through the portrait hole and out of Gryffindor tower.

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He slept horribly that night. Dreams plagued by Miss Patil suddenly recalling his face and Dumbledore firing him in front of the entire student population kept him irritably awake and eventually, Severus didn't even bother to attempt sleep any longer. Throwing off his covers with a growl, he stalked down to his office and began marking essays once more.

Hermione hadn't come to his office that evening. She hadn't been in the lab, either, when he went to check. In fact, the last time he'd seen her had been his uncomfortable exit earlier in the afternoon. What had kept her from their studies?

Quashing down the immediate thought of, "Miss Patil remembered," Severus tried to console himself with other possibilities for Hermione's absence. Logical possibilities. Potter and Weasley were keeping her occupied. She'd recalled an assignment due the next day in some other class. Potter and/or Weasley had fallen terribly ill and she was in the Infirmary with either or both of them.

That was, of course, just wishful thinking.

With a little sigh, Severus looked down at the poor third-year essay on the properties of rowan bark that he'd fairly mutilated. Flicking back through the parchment rolls, he noticed that he'd absent-mindedly insulted and failed every single student in the third form. He wasn't usually quite that brutal--not even to the worst idiots he had to teach. Even Weasley and Longbottom received passing Potions marks on occasion.

The clock chimed five just as Severus was wondering what to do about his essays. Abandoning the forlorn rolls, Severus decided that it was late enough to go to the Great Hall for breakfast. It was also early enough that Dumbledore and the other professors would not be there yet and Severus would be left to his own devices.

Unfortunately, however, Severus found Professor Sprout sitting at the professors' table, waving at him with a cheery little grin. "You're up awfully early, Severus," she chirped.

The skin under his right eye jumped and Severus forced a smile of his own. "Marking," he grunted. "Still not finished."

Sprout nodded knowingly. "Left it to the last minute, I see? Well, you probably ought to just take the tea back to your office, then. Don't worry, take the whole pot!" And with that, she thrust the teapot into Severus' surprised hands.

"Uh ... thank you," he managed, sincere for once.

Grabbing a slice of toast for good measure, Severus left the Hall swiftly, thankful that Sprout had let him escape. Once back in his office, he began reluctantly recording his third years' essay marks, making a notation to throw them out if their final grades seemed more abysmal than usual. He would think of something to tell them later.

It was nearly seven o'clock when it occurred to Severus (in the shower, of all places) that his eight AM class was the dreaded seventh year Gryffindor-Slytherin hell. Glaring at the soap, he brutally quelled any hopeful thoughts he was having on the matter. The chance to see Hermione and make sure she was alright was outweighed by the certainty that all three of the remaining Gryffindors would be teasing her about yesterday afternoon. Not to mention the fact that, if Severus recalled anything about Parvati Patil, it was the girl's penchant for gossip; in all likelihood, the Slytherins would know as well.

Draco Malfoy would be celebrating Christmas twice this year, then.

And there was only one thing Severus could think to do. He could make sure that this class was the quietest in his teaching history and hope that speculations died down fairly quickly. It pained him to admit it, even to himself--especially to himself--but he could not shield Hermione from this. While it was incredibly unlikely that anyone had successfully guessed his identity, save the off-chance that Miss Patil had an illuminating moment, Hermione and their abortive tryst was certain to be the subject of many hallway conversations over the next couple of weeks. There was nothing he could do about that.

Deciding then, that the situation merited no further thought, Severus climbed out of the shower, noting with alarm that he'd managed to waste nearly forty minutes standing under the spray. Class was due to start in only twenty minutes and he was currently standing in the lavatory, naked and dripping water on the floor. Not good.

Severus managed to make it to the classroom with five minutes to spare. His hair was still damp, but he doubted anyone would take notice. Even if they did, no one would dare comment.

When he strode in to the room, only Malfoy and Zabini were present--no Gryffindors yet. Atypical behavior, really; Longbottom and Hermione, at least, tended to be quite early for all of their classes.

With a mental shrug, Severus did his best to feign nonchalance and began copying today's potion ingredients on the board. The scratching of quills on parchment let him know that at least one student was writing them down. Probably Zabini--for all that he managed to botch almost as many potions per year as Longbottom, he made a considerable effort in the class. His essays were verging on excellent, really.

Another few scrabblings told him that another student had probably walked in. Severus willed himself not to turn around. It didn't matter in the end; he could eavesdrop with his back turned just as well.

"Hermione ..." he heard a male voice whine. Sounded more like Weasley than Potter.

"Ron," she snapped quietly, confirming Severus' suspicions. "Leave me alone."

"Couldn't have been Oliver Wood," Weasley continued, blithely ignoring her, "Parvati said he was skinny and Wood was a broad bloke."

"Ron," again. This time, Severus could tell she was gritting her teeth. The last time he'd heard that tone come out of Hermione's mouth, she'd actually thrown her quill at him in anger--Weasley had better watch out.

The boy switched tactics. "Just tell me, 'Mione," he begged. "I won't even hold you to the essay thing."

Severus made a mental note to ask Hermione exactly what the 'essay thing' was Weasley was referring to.

"I will do no such thing," Hermione said loftily.

"Just one more hint ...?"

And that was it. Severus couldn't take any more. "Weasley, Granger!" he barked without turning around. "Ten points from Gryffindor. Keep your squabbling out of my classroom."

They fell mercifully quiet. Counting off ten silent beats, Severus finally permitted himself to face his students, most of whom were now present and in their seats.

"You know the routine," he snapped. "Brew it, bottle it, and label it properly before the end of the period. Get to work!"

The students started obediently chopping and shredding and Severus began his usual classroom prowl, up and down the rows, making sure to fix Weasley with a particularly nasty glare. Hermione, he noticed, kept her head down and worked quickly; he left her alone.

Longbottom had already started off incorrectly, slicing his arrowroot crossways instead of lengthways--his potion was going to be entirely too thick, even if he did everything else perfectly, which Severus doubted. But he passed by the boy's cauldron, knowing he would have an opportunity to berate him later.

It actually came sooner than he'd anticipated. On his fifth pass of the room, he heard Longbottom whispering something. Unable to make it out and seeing Hermione go rigid, Severus drew closer.

"Don't worry about those prats bothering you, Hermione," Longbottom was saying quickly. "I think it's great that you've found someone and I wouldn't let anyone--"

"Longbottom!" Severus roared, incensed at the continued speculation. "Fifteen points from Gryffindor! Quit playing agony aunt and get back to work," he snapped, inwardly wincing as he saw Hermione tense further. But his purpose was accomplished; Longbottom made a meek little noise and set back to further ruining his too-thick, over boiling potion.

Class continued without further incident, almost preternaturally silent. Severus winced as a blushing Longbottom sat a vial full of a chunky blue substance on his desk, labeled 'Cooling Gel' so lightly that Severus could sense the hesitancy even in the writing--he was shocked that Longbottom had managed a correct label on such a horrific attempt.

The other potions were more or less brewed correctly, in varying stages of cloudiness. Only Hermione's and, surprisingly, Zabini's had properly cleared into the expected gel. Zabini looked as shocked as everyone else as he sat his vial next to hers and they matched. "Full marks, for once, Zabini," Severus said dryly. The boy flushed but stayed silent.

Fortunately, the students cleared out of the classroom fairly quickly after turning in their assignments. Pansy Parkinson lingered for a few moments, apparently wanting to ask him a question, but a good glare in her direction sent her scurrying away. Severus sat down at his desk with a sigh, burying his head in his hands. Only two periods and he was already tired of today.

A cough startled him and Severus glanced up to see Hermione standing on the other side of his desk, regarding him appraisingly. "Severus," she said--he was surprised to hear a distinct chilliness in her tone.

He nodded in reply. "Hermione. Shouldn't you be heading to class?" Severus hoped fervently that she would take the hint; he was not up to a detailed conversation right now.

But she merely lifted an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's the lunch period," she said.

"Oh." He wondered what to say next, but she took care of that for him.

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"Parvati didn't recognize you, in case you were wondering," Hermione said, inwardly wincing at the coldness in her voice.

But why shouldn't she be irritated, really? She'd been fending off an eager crowd of people since the previous afternoon and the more she thought about it, the closer Hermione came to concluding that it was all Severus' fault in the first place. If he hadn't ...

"I'd realized that," Severus was saying. "Thank you," he said, distinctly insincerely.

Frowning, Hermione leaned across the desk a bit, actually hoping that her next words would hurt him. "I just thought I should let you know that you can stop worrying about your job or whatever."

They apparently hit their mark as Severus' face fell a bit. "Is that what you ...?" he trailed off, seemingly incredulous. "Hermione, I ..."

"And Harry and Ron don't suspect anything either, so you've got nothing--"

His face a veritable storm of emotions, Severus stood suddenly and glared at Hermione so fiercely that she broke off her insolent remark mid-sentence. "Will you stop it?" he hissed. "You're angry with me. Fine. I understand."

"I ought to be angry with you," she retorted viciously. "I have every right to be angry with you."

"Yes, you do," he snapped. "There. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Her ire waned a bit, but there was still an undercurrent in her voice as she spoke. "I'm just ... Severus, they've been at me all night and I'm running out of things to say to them. I just want ... oh, I don't know!" she broke off, frustrated with herself.

"Just ignore them," he replied.

And the anger returned, full force. "That's easy for you to say. I imagine you've got friends practically breaking your door down, begging for clues to your secret relationship, haven't you?" she asked nastily.

"No," he said softly, dangerously, "I simply sit down in my dungeons, alone, not knowing anything that's happening because the woman who professes to care deeply about me would rather sit in her room and sulk."

"Sulk?" she echoed. "Sulk?" Her voice went up a note.

"You heard me," Severus said. "You're behaving like a child, Hermione."

She laughed shortly. "I'm being childish? Who deducted twenty-five points from Gryffindor this morning simply because he couldn't bear to listen to speculation?"

"You stupid little girl," he spat, "I was trying to protect you from them."

Hermione stood ramrod straight and shot him the worst glare she could manage. "Don't you ever call me that again," she hissed.

"Then don't act like one," Severus practically shouted.

They stared at each other for a few minutes of tense silence, neither one willing to speak.

Finally, Severus opened his mouth to speak and then shut it once more, narrowing his eyes at her. "I do not wish to discuss this any longer," he eventually said.

Her eyes opened wide. "You do not ... Severus, I will not be dismissed like some silly little student."

"You are a silly little student," he snapped maliciously.

Hermione grit her teeth. "Fine," she said with a clenched jaw. "And I suppose that makes you the seductive professor taking advantage of his innocent student. How sporting of you."

Immediately, she wished she could retract her previous statement. Severus closed his eyes as if in pain.

Unwilling to see the hurt in his eyes, Hermione turned and fled the classroom.

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Hermione stood under the shower spray, wondering idly if someone could successfully drown themselves in such a manner. Perhaps it was possible and if so, she hoped maybe she could figure out the secret.

She'd gone too far in Severus' classroom and she knew it. They'd never actually discussed the fact that she was technically his student and he her professor, but that didn't give her the right to toss it back in his face like that, especially in the context she'd put it in. There was simply no excuse.

Severus was right. She had been acting childish. So angry at Ron and Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors for continuing to bother her about everything that she lashed out at the more convenient party as soon as he gave her an opening. She just hoped she hadn't permanently alienated him.

Turning off the water, Hermione dried off and changed into a fresh set of robes, sighing at her mass of wet hair but utterly unwilling to deal with it. Her original intention had been to shower and then spend the rest of the evening in her dormitory (sulking, a voice in her head whispered, sounding disturbingly like Severus), but the more she considered it, the more she wanted to seek Severus out and talk with him.

Well ... if he was still angry with her, she would be more or less talking to him as he probably wouldn't be very responsive, but she had to make the effort.

Hoping no one noticed her, Hermione made her way quickly out of the Common Room and down to Severus' office. But upon reaching the door, she saw that the room was dark and the door locked. He wasn't there.

He wasn't in the lab either.

Out of breath from her dash up to the fourth floor and then back to Gryffindor tower, Hermione had to pause for a moment before giving the Fat Lady the password. Upon climbing through the portrait hole, she made an immediate beeline for Harry and Ron, calmly playing chess by the fire.

"Harry," Hermione gasped, still panting a bit, "I need to use the map."

He turned to look at her, eyebrows raised. "Good evening to you, too, Hermione."

"Map," she repeated irritably. "I need to see it for a minute."

Harry studied her for a moment longer and then abruptly stood. "It's in my trunk. Hang on," he replied, walking toward the boys' dormitory.

Ron offered her a pleasant smile. "How are you, 'Mione?"

"I've been better," she said absently.

Looking rather uncomfortable, Ron regarded the chessboard intently. "We've been a bit rough on you lately, haven't we?"

She just continued to look at him dispassionately--that particular question did not merit a response.

"I'm sorry," he said, shifting in his seat. "About all of it. I've gone a bit overboard, I expect."

With a little chuckle, Hermione permitted herself a small smile. "A bit," she agreed. "I just want you to respect my privacy."

"Consider it respected, madam," Ron said with a wide grin. "You don't want to share your love life with the rest of us. Fine. Just one more question."

Hermione sighed. "What is it, Ron?"

"Promise me you're not sneaking out of the castle at nights to snog You-Know-Who or anything like that," he said quickly.

She was floored. Trust Ron to come up with the most off-the-wall candidate and overlook the seemingly obvious ones. "I promise," she replied, somewhat dazed.

Choosing just then to come back down the stairs, Harry was waving the map in the air. "Got it," he told her. "Why d'you need it, anyway?"

"Now, Harry," Ron chided teasingly, "you know that's an invasion of Hermione's privacy."

Even Hermione laughed at that. She took the map and spread it out on the chessboard, ignoring the protests of the pieces that she inadvertently covered with it. "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," she said, tapping the parchment with her wand and watching it come to life.

It did not take her long to find the dot she was looking for. The dot marked 'Severus Snape' was sitting rather still in a room in the dungeons, just down the corridor from Severus' office. Hermione thought for a moment and dimly recalled a rusting suit of armor in that general vicinity. It must be the entrance to his personal quarters, she realized with a little start. Tapping the map again, she wiped it clean.

Harry gave her a curious look. "Don't you want to take it with you?" he asked. "It won't give you any passwords until you need them, you know."

"I don't need passwords," she replied. She wasn't about to actually break into Severus' rooms. If all was well, he would open the door when she asked him to. And if it wasn't ...

Well, she wasn't going to think about that quite yet.

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said, trying to give both him and Ron a reassuring look as she walked back through the portrait hole.

The hallways were already clearing as she made her way back down to the dungeons--curfew was a mere hour away--and she was grateful for it. The dungeons themselves were deserted. Hermione knew that the Slytherin dormitories were somewhere around here, but she'd never cared enough to actually determine their exact location.

And she was standing in front of the half-remembered suit of armor, wondering just how she could get in. Knocking on the armor seemed rather silly, but simply speaking to it did as well. In the end, however, Hermione concluded that she really didn't have any other option.

"Severus?" she asked timidly. "Severus, are you in there?"

The armor faded away to reveal Severus leaning in a dark doorway. "What do you want?" he asked in a tired, guarded voice.

Suddenly unable to look at his face, Hermione settled for staring at his feet. They were bare, she noted absently. "I came to ... Severus, I'm sorry," she told his oddly pale toes. He must not walk outside shoeless often, she thought.

"You are?" he asked evenly.

She looked up at that, hopeful. "What I said earlier was out of line. It was unfair of me to lash out at you like that."

"It was," he agreed blandly, his face carefully blank.

"Good Lord, Severus," she exclaimed, "I love you, you know, and I don't ever want to hurt you."

"But you do." His voice was very soft and there was a flicker of uncertainty and pain in his eyes.

To her horror, Hermione felt her eyes filling with tears. "I don't mean to!" she cried. "Oh, Severus, I'm so sorry and I'd understand if you hate me now and--"

"I don't hate you, you silly girl," he said, interrupting her.

The tears were threatening to run down her cheeks by now. "You don't?" she asked, resisting the urge to sniffle.

"Of course not." His tone was slightly warmer and he relaxed in his stance minutely.

Oh, the urge to cry was overpowering, but Hermione managed to hold it at bay a little longer. "You don't?" she echoed herself dumbly.

Severus sighed. "As I have said. Hermione, perhaps you ought to come inside. It would not do for us to continue blubbering in the hallway." He stood away from the doorframe and made a little half-turn back into his quarters.

Gratified at the 'us,' Hermione followed him meekly, still biting back her tears. It was a shame that this was her first glimpse of his personal rooms. All things considered, she would have preferred such an occasion to be a happy one.

His rooms were just as she might have expected, though. Fairly spartan, but cluttered with odd bits of parchment and books laying open on the few surfaces around. The one thing that surprised her was the light. As they were in the dungeons, Hermione had expected a dim set of rooms, lit only by a flickering fireplace, but she saw several lit lamps sitting around on surfaces not occupied by books and stopped dead in front of a large window in his sitting room.

"I thought we were ..." she began, trailing off as she saw a brightly shining moon and twinkling stars winking at her from the window.

He shrugged. "I'm not particularly fond of living in the dark," he said to her unasked question. "It's charmed to look like the actual sky, rather like the ceiling in the Great Hall."

"Oh," Hermione breathed, reaching out a hand to touch the window and drawing back in shock as her fingertips encountered actual glass. "It's beautiful."

Again, a shrug. "It took me nearly a year to get the blasted thing working properly, but I don't think you came down here to discuss my failings in Charms. Other failings, perhaps, but not those."

Here came the tears again. Cursing her weakness, Hermione kept looking out the window, choosing to look at Severus' reflection in the charmed glass rather than his actual person. "Severus ..."

His reflection offered her a weak smile. "More ill-timed humor on my part, I'm afraid. I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "You have nothing to apologize for," she said tightly. "I--"

"On the contrary," he replied mildly. "I believe I owe you an apology for my actions yesterday. It was an impulse not properly thought through and it obviously caused you a great deal of stress and for that, I am sorry."

"You shouldn't have to apologize for ... yesterday," she said, as delicately as she could manage. "I mean ..." She blushed.

Severus chuckled a bit and Hermione finally began believing that maybe everything would be all right. "I wasn't apologizing for everything," he said. "And in other circumstances, I might only be apologizing for not remembering to put a Locking Charm on the door."

She laughed then, turning away from the window to see the genuine mirth in his eyes. But she sobered quickly, knowing that not everything was mended yet. "I was taking out my anger with my friends on you," she said. "Well ... mostly. And I'm sorry I didn't come down last night, but I didn't think it wise, what with--"

Cutting her off yet again, Severus gave her an understanding nod. "I know," he said. "It was irrational of me to expect you to come, and I knew it, even at the time. But sometimes it is difficult for me to recall that I must share you with the rest of the world at times."

It only took a few short steps for Hermione to be close enough to Severus to throw her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Sometimes I just want to stay here with you forever," she confessed.

His hands were on her back, moving up and down, smoothing her robes against her skin. "Hermione?" he asked, sounding suddenly insecure.

"What?" She tried to keep the fear out of her voice.

"Does it bother you that I'm your professor?"

Pulling out of his embrace a little, Hermione looked up at him with wide eyes. "Of course not!"

"It's just that ..."

It was her turn to cut him off. "Severus, I stopped thinking of you as my professor a long time ago. You're my colleague, my friend, my ... well, you know," she said with a little blush. "Professors are sort of one-dimensional creatures; they exist only to pass knowledge on to their students, in my mind. But you, Severus, you've become just a man to me."

"Just?" he asked wryly.

She resisted the urge to poke her tongue out at him and settled for simply embracing him again. "Don't tell me that you still think of me as your horrible little know-it-all student."

"I will concede that you're a horrible little know-it-all," he replied with a slight smirk that told Hermione that she was entirely forgiven and pulling her a little closer. "But no, I must confess, I haven't seen you as my student for quite a while. The realization that I haven't actually taught you much of anything for the past four years at least helped that along."

"You flatterer," she said dryly.

"What is that dreadful Muggle expression?" he asked the room in general. "'Love me or leave me.'"

She kissed his cheek. "I think I'd prefer to love you."

"I'm glad we agree on that, at least," he said, kissing her lips gently.

Giving him a cheeky grin, Hermione pulled out of his arms and looked around the room once more. "Your quarters surprise me, Severus."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I would have expected some dark, depressing hole draped in green velvet," she teased. "Somehow chintz armchairs weren't in my mental picture. Neither was a ten-foot tall window."

"I didn't have a choice about the chintz," he replied defensively. "Those came with the room. And I've already said that I have no interest in living in darkness. Contrary to popular belief, I would actually prefer to not live in the dungeons." He suddenly seemed to finally hear Hermione's previous words. "Wait ... green velvet?" he asked, pained.

She shrugged a bit. "Why not? I know the drapes in Gryffindor tower are done in velvet."

"And I've always enjoyed decorating tips from Gryffindors," he said derisively.

This time, Hermione did give into her impulse and stuck her tongue out at him.

To his credit, Severus recovered from his momentary shock rather well and responded by kissing her senseless.

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