Unlikely Connections

Chapter Six - A New Partner Cuts In

They seemed to have come to an unspoken agreement the instant they locked eyes in Potions lessons the following day. She would not hold it over him that he had taken advantage of her and acted inappropriately if he would not report to Dumbledore that she had acted inappropriately. In the barest of glances, they transmitted that neither took the other's behavior into offense and that they were both fully ready to completely ignore the fact that anything had happened.

Hermione smiled as she slid into her seat. Her smile was full of relief and probably the first smile in days that reached all the way to her eyes. Harry and Ron were both relieved to see this change in her demeanor, working its way back to the old Hermione as she hissed instructions to Neville over her cauldron.

To all the class it seemed that Professor Snape had forgotten to be hideous to Hermione. In this lapse, however, he redoubled his efforts at humiliating and infuriating the Boy-Who-Lived and his loyal guard dog Weasley. He left Harry's side only to lavish points over Malfoy and his cronies who, in the convenient absences of Snape's watchful eye, were throwing doxy droppings at the back of Ron's head. Hermione remained smiling gently throughout the entire class, with the exception of plastering an angry look on her face for Harry and Ron when she knew it was appropriate. Her relief at not being in further trouble with Snape pervaded all her actions.

However, towards the end of the Potions time period, she realized that she still had detention with him tonight. Panic began to creep in. She didn't feel that she was in a position where she could trust herself around him.

Just then, Snape swirled behind her and spoke casually. "Detention in the classroom tonight, Granger. I have lots of grunt work for you to do."

She nodded at the first part of his statement, but when he said the phrase "grunt work" her face flushed and she dropped her eyes. Lowering his voice to the point where no one else would hear, he snapped, "Oh, honestly girl, get a hold of yourself and get your mind out of my pants."

She whimpered in horror, and nearly slipped off her stool in her haste to avoid his eyes. Harry had caught her arm to save her as she slipped, and as a result, had also unintentionally caught the remark that Snape had thrown at her. Snape would not make a remark so intimate and humiliating for himself without foundation. She opened her mouth to thank him for catching her, but saw that the sharp green eyes were wide with suspicion. She knew that he had heard. Stealing a quick glance around her, she made sure no one could eavesdrop.

"Some more happenings in detention last night. Meet me in my room immediately after Potions."

Harry nodded, still glancing pointedly between Hermione and Snape. Ron muttered something about being absolutely starving, so he rushed to the Great Hall for dinner as soon as Potions was through.

"Sir," Hermione said, trying to get his attention before leaving. "Sir, I'm going to head to dinner with Harry, but I'll be back for detention afterwards."

He nodded scantly. "Six o'clock, Granger, no later."

"Yes sir," she mumbled and sped out the door with Harry in tow.

After they were two corridors away from the Potions dungeons, Harry began his interrogation. "What happened Friday night?"

"Shhhh!" Hermione whispered furiously. "Not here."

The instant they reached Gryffindor Tower, the pair sped into Hermione's single Head Girl room. Harry planted himself on her bed and looked up expectantly. "Well?"

Before she could formulate any sort of sense to her answer, the explanations tumbled out of her. She told him all about Friday, about the dreams (blushing feverishly) and about the conversation in his office the previous evening. She did NOT, however, mention the fact that much of the night's conversation had taken place with her pulse leaping and his hands on her body.

"Wow." Harry sat stunned. Then, after a long moment's silence he shuddered. "Ew. You kissed Snape. Gross."

She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose in confused frustration. "Not helping Harry."

He chuckled gently but shuddered again. "Well, that explains a lot, M'inee, but I really have no idea how exactly you expect me to help you out here."

And then it hit her. Her face lit up. She knew exactly how to figure out why her body's feelings for Snape were so confusing. It all rested on a basis of comparison. Though she couldn't really believe she was about to say it, she cleared her throat and spoke. "You can help, Harry. And I've just thought of how."

He waited again, thinking she would elaborate, but she merely sat there, pinkening in the cheeks. "I can help ...?" he prompted.

"Well," she began, "maybe you can, but I have to ask you a question. More of a favor really."

He nodded and, seeing as how he was smiling at her gently and patting her knee, she felt that she was not in danger of being laughed at for the suggestion. "Would you kiss me Harry?"

His face flushed crimson in an instant. "What?" he asked, scarcely able to believe his ears.

"That is to say, could I kiss you?" While he sat there in stunned silence, she continued nervously. "You see, I thought, I mean I think that if I were to have a basis of comparison ... you know, some **cleared throat** experience with which to ... uh ... weigh against ... you see, then I think I could gather some answer as to why I ... felt the need to ..."

In the final break of her speech, Harry turned to face her on the bed. While his face was still flushed and a bit shocked, he seemed to be considering something as he gazed at her. She had fallen silent as he watched her. He lifted a hand to her jaw, trailing a finger just under her ear, letting it trace down to her chin. As he let his finger rest there, she opened her mouth to speak.

Over top of some whispered explanation, Harry pressed his lips to hers. He took her face gently in both hands and tilted his head to move the kiss to a slightly different angle. Hermione was confused by the new sensation of kissing him. It was not like kissing Snape in the remotest. Her heart certainly didn't feel like it was going to leap out of her chest, but Harry's lips were warm and responsive against hers. And while Harry's touch didn't leave her breathless, she felt warm tingles as his hands ran down her arms.

Feeling emboldened, Hermione parted her lips and licked her tongue across his lower lip, gently asking for entrance. She felt his breath catch at the first feel of her tongue, but he parted his lips easily in response and allowed her access to his mouth. Her tongue wandered gently, picking up the pace from Harry's tenderness, and she felt something warm and wet like tears on her cheeks. She opened her eyes, not really knowing that she had closed them, and was surprised to see Harry's open as well, gazing at her as if she were the most beautiful creature on Earth.

His fingers came up to flick away the tears from her cheeks and, encouraged by the look of wonder in her eyes, he let his fingers trail down her neck as they continued to kiss. She tentatively guided him down her throat to her chest where she smoothed out his shaking hand over her breast.

She smiled against his mouth as she could feel how he trembled at this intimate touch, even when impeded by her blouse. Beneath the hand she had placed on his chest, she felt his heart skip and leap wildly. He was leaning forward towards her, propelled seemingly not of his choice. She was leaning back in response, not considering what it meant, only knowing that she felt safe with him lying over top of her like this. She could just feel the brush of the coarse material of his pant legs on the outside of her thighs.

An insistent knock sounded on the door and, startled, Hermione bolted up, throwing Harry to the floor. Hermione scrambled to her feet and swung open the door to find Ron standing with his fist poised to knock again.

Ignoring the deep flush on both their faces and the fact that Harry was sitting on the floor, he invited himself in. "What have you two been doing up here? I finished dinner a half hour ago and came back here and ..."

Hermione had gasped and whirled around to look at the clock. She shrieked, and sprinted out of the tower, calling the word "detention" behind her as Ron and Harry threw questioning looks at her back.

****

She was panting as she reached the classroom, not anxious to see the look on Snape's face when he saw her practically sprinting to detention yet again. She smirked as she remembered Snape's first chiding at her tardiness. This time it really was snogging with Potter that had made her late. The thought made her chuckle.

As if on cue, he marched into the room from the store closet, robes billowing behind him as usual. The smile on her face must have triggered his hideous instinct for cruelty, as it seemed that their unspoken agreement only extended to lessons.

"Good grief, Granger, being an airhead doesn't give one leave to waltz around with a permanently vacant smile on one's face. Now wipe off that ridiculous smirk and get out your potions kit."

Her smile disappeared instantly, to be replaced by an ugly scowl. She reluctantly removed her potions ingredients from the bag she had grabbed on her way out of Gryffindor Tower. He stationed himself at his desk, across the room from her, and didn't move. Once she had gotten out her kit, she stared at him unpleasantly, waiting for further instruction.

"You're going to be brewing a precursor potion to what we'll be working with in lessons tomorrow. You're to make enough for 30 students, do you understand?"

She mumbled, "Yes, sir," but didn't stop leering at him.

"Oh, and Granger ... do try to control yourself for once. I'm sure Potter would be much more welcoming of your clumsy fumbling than I am. I've no doubt that he has more gray matter in between his legs than in his head anyway."

Her temper flared hot and bright, covering the embarrassment of the idea that she had been 'clumsy' and 'fumbling.' Before she could stop herself, she found herself biting back. "Don't you dare speak of Harry that way! He's sweet and gentle and ..."

He interrupted smoothly. "Ah, so we have been tending to Potter's ... **cleared throat** gentleness, have we?"

The memory of Harry's hand shaking as it caressed her breast was too near the surface. She growled low in her throat. "You lousy son of a b--"

"That will do, Miss Granger. That will earn you another afternoon's torture under my tender ministries. My, my, my. That makes an entire week, Friday to Friday, under my tutelage, doesn't it? Get to work."

She opened her mouth to retort, but shut it quickly, in fear of increasing her detentions even further. She resorted to merely shooting daggers at him with her eyes.

"The directions," he said, with a wave of his wand toward the board, "are in front of you. I trust you're not so much of a dunderhead that I have to stare over your shoulder?"

"No, sir."

"Good," he snapped, and swept from the room.

Her temper burned itself out quickly, as soon as he had left. She admitted to herself that she was quite shocked that he would leave her on her own for detention, trusting that she would complete the potion correctly and clean up when she was finished. She had fully expected him to "stare over her shoulder" in order to make her even more furious.

Which, she thought angrily, he obviously does just to get back on his teacher pedestal with me. She chuckled audibly as she realized how much the previous night's events must have unnerved him.

Hermione worked quickly and efficiently, anxious to do well (and prove Snape wrong about her being an airhead) but also anxious to leave as soon as it was possible. She followed the directions with ruthless accuracy, and chuckled aloud as she reached the final two.

"Step 19. Clean the god-forsaken crap off the inside of the cauldron.

Step 20. Get out before I think of something else for you to do."

It stroked her ego, just the tiniest bit, to think that he could have a sense of humor around her. Despite the biting tone of the final direction, she knew somehow that it was intended to make her laugh.

After cleaning the "god-forsaken crap" that was the residue from the potion off the inside of the cauldron, she packed her bag carefully and headed out of the dungeon in a flounce of curls.

****