Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3
A/N: Written in response to the Granger Enchanted Valentine's Challenge. Of course, as usual, I was a little late.
Enjoy, and let me know what you think!
-IncaShine
Chapter 1
February at Hogwarts was always magical, more magical than any other month one could say. It was the only time of year that decorations that looked like Gildory Lockhart had created himself covered every corner of the school, the cuisine in the Great Hall more festive, and when Dobby decided to dress in only a diaper and his mismatched socks with the claim that he was a cupid elf. It was the only time of year that Hermione Granger hated with a passion. Everyone around her walked around like they had blinders on, only concerned about whether or not they were going to have a date to the annual St. Valentine's Day Ball. Of course she never did since Harry and Ron didn't see her as a girl, only as a walking book. Not saying that Ron didn't try, oh no. He just happened to choose the totally wrong time. An hour of missed study time, a few sloppy kisses, and a lot of fumbling gropes later he had ruined his pants and left her wholly unsatisfied. To top it off she got a 'B' on the charms test that she was supposed to be studying for when he decided to 'seduce' her.
Ron never touched her again after she blew up on him, waving the parchment with a 'B' on it in his face. Needless to say he no longer approached her if she had a book in front of her.
Her misery began on February first. Hermione thanked her lucky stars that she was in her seventh year and wouldn't have to put up with such foolishness again. Decorations were up overnight it seemed. There were little floating hearts in the hallways and pink streamers up the banisters. If you were lucky you could catch a glimpse at a few little 'Cupids' that had been darting all over the school, anxiously awaiting Valentine's Day so they could deliver warm love and cheer to all.
Even though she would never admit to doing it, she would blast a few of the hearts down if the hallway was empty. Stupid Valentines day and stupid boys. It was all stupid.
On the day of the ninth strange things began to happen.
Hermione's day started as usual at 6AM. She had just pulled the curtains around her bed when she noticed a little pink package on her night table. It was rather small, she noted. It didn't look like the box would have very much in it; but she had to remind herself that she was at Hogwarts and looks could be very deceiving. The package itself didn't look very threatening, with it's sparkling pink wrapping and frilly bow on the top, but Hermione was still was anxious. As Moody used to pound into their heads, constant vigilance.
"Oh, not again," she mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She hadn't received any 'love gifts' since her 'relationship' with Viktor, and even then everything he gave her was rather odd. How many men would give you an action figure of himself and think it was the greatest gift in the world? Having a little Viktor wasn't all that bad since he would pretend to listen when she was angry and needed to talk, but he was permanently banned to her trunk the moment she caught him checking her out as she undressed.
Cautiously Hermione reached for the small parcel. It was moderately light weight and rattled a bit as she shifted it. She gave it a nice shake for good measure. So far it hadn't exploded, and it didn't sound like it was alive. That was a good sign.
She wouldn't admit it to anyone, but she actually thought the bow on top was rather pretty, so much so that she almost felt bad about untying it to get to the contents. With a shaking hand she pulled at the bow. The bow began to come undone almost on it's own in slow motion, falling open neatly. She set it aside and pulled the top off the box.
She put her hand to her mouth and giggled. "Who on earth would send me this?"
Inside the box sat a tiny box of Sweet Hearts, the Muggle sweet of the season. They tasted like chalk, had the dumbest 'romantic' sayings on them, and were the most hideous pastel colors. If they weren't sold as a supposed food, she would have written them off as inedible.
Underneath the sweets was a small piece of parchment. Hermione pulled it out and read it. "Love is a friendship set to music. - E. Joseph Cossman"
Hermione couldn't help the small grin that came to her face. Who would send her something like this? Especially with Muggle sweets?
In her mind she made a quick catalog of the Muggle-borns that resided in Gryffindor. It wasn't much, but it was a start. Plus the few pure blood wizards that had knowledge of the Muggle world. That made her list a bit longer, but not enough to make much of a difference.
As Hermione sat through breakfast, she tried to think of who would send her Muggle sweets and a Muggle quote, both revolving around love. Things like this just did not happen to her! It was strange, it was unusual, and she was determined to get to the bottom of this before it got out of hand.
-----
On the day of the tenth, there was another parcel on her bedside, this time a bit bigger than the first. "Not more sweets," she moaned. Being the daughter of two dentists, she immediately gave the boys the box of candy hearts. Harry had seen them before and refused to eat the chalky things, but Ron thought they were the greatest invention of all time.
"Not as amazing compared to Wizarding sweets, but great Muggle invention!" he beamed, followed by him picking out the sugariest sayings and giving them to Lavender in small intervals throughout the day. Of course she squealed each time and planted a sloppy kiss on Ron's cheek. Seeing him turn as red as his hair made it worth handing over her gift.
Today's package was purple, and a shocking shade at that. It wasn't a royal purple like she preferred unfortunately. The best way to describe the color was neon. Topping it off was an equally as shocking bow, accented with glitter bits that seemed to be woven right into the fabric.
Today she didn't care about pretty. Like a kid on Christmas she ripped the paper off of the box and flung off the top. Inside sat another small box, which she opened without hesitation.
"A candy necklace!" she giggled. As a child her parents would buy her the sugar free candy jewelry sets, and in her six year old mind she was the height of fashion while she wore them. Gleefully she pulled the candy necklace out of the plastic and put it on. She felt like a kid again, and it made her feel damn good.
She was about to throw out the box when another small piece of parchment caught her eye. If I know what love is, it is because of you.
The girly girl in her melted into a puddle, but the rational part of her mind was still trying to figure out who on earth would send her such gifts? So far her findings were minimal, though she managed to cross off the older Muggle-born Gryffindors off of her list. Most of them were already seeing someone, or they were gay and seeing someone.
That left the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaw, since it was a known fact that there were never any half bloods or Muggle-borns in Slytherin. Quickly she reformulated her list and dressed to start her day.
-----
"Even though it is the time of year that everyone thinks they should have a mate, I do assure you that we will not be brewing any love potions."
Hermione watched as Professor Snape walked up and down the isles of the classroom, lecturing those seventh years that were qualified enough to take advanced potions.
He stopped as he reached the head of the classroom. "To be perfectly honest, we should be making contraceptives," he said harshly, eyeing the Slytherin corner of the room where Pansy Parkinson sat with Draco Malfoy. "In honor of the season, you will be brewing Hate Potion." He calmly sat down. "I have a feeling that it will be in high demand later in the month." Snape looked up at the class. "Begin."
Hermione wrinkled her nose. Typical Snape, making them brew a Hate Potion around Valentine's Day. That was fine with her though; a potion that breeds hatred for a season she hated most. Immediately she read the instructions that appeared on the board the moment Snape said begin and got to work.
The potion was a dreadfully easy one and Hermione finished a bit earlier than the other students. Of course Snape took notice when she placed the bottled potion on his desk and dismissed her to her seat with a simple nod. She had turned to return to her desk but Professor Snape stopped her.
"Miss Granger," he said quietly.
Hermione turned to face him. "Yes, Professor?"
"What is that you are wearing around your neck?" He craned forward a bit to examine the jewelry.
"It's a candy necklace, sir," she replied, sincerely hoping that he wouldn't take it from her.
Snape nodded. "I will tolerate your sugar quills," he said in the same low tone, "don't think I haven't noticed them. But you will remove that necklace. It's a distraction."
She frowned, clearly not understanding how it was a distraction. Instead of voicing her opinion now she would wait until that evening when she returned to assist him brew potions for Madam Pomfrey. "Yes, sir." She turned and returned to her desk, then took the necklace off and put it in her bag.
When she sat down again she pulled out her notebook and began listing all of the Muggle-borns and half-bloods she could think of, at least the ones that would possibly send her any sort of Valentine sweets.
Justin Finch-Fletchley was a candidate, since they did work closely when they were both involved in the D.A., though she doubted that he would be sending her any sweets. He was a nice boy, yes, but he had actively been pursuing a sixth year Ravenclaw with a nice smile and a killer sense of humor.
Terry Boot was also another option. He did seem to be sweet on her. She held a ray of hope that it wasn't. He was a fine person but he had a knack of getting under her skin.
Hermione sucked on the end of her sugar quill thoughtfully, shooting a glare at Professor Snape every once in a while as she gave the quill a nice long lick. She smirked at him when he raised his eyebrow at her. Over the last six months they had developed a working relationship that quickly moved from teacher/student to banter and bicker. Of course that was countered just as well with intelligent conversation that flowed just as easily as their bickering.
She glanced at her watch. The bell would sound in less than one minute. Quickly she put her notebook and quill back into her bag and pulled the necklace back out. The moment she was out of the door it would be right back around her neck Snape be damned.
The rest of Hermione's day passed quickly enough. She wasn't fond of the new Transfiguration teacher, but she didn't think anyone could fill the shoes of her mentor and head of house. Professor McGonagall had helped her out more than anyone would know. Few of the students knew this, but Hermione wasn't able to find her parents after the final battle. About six months before the battle she had discussed the possibilities with them. With the Death Eaters becoming more and more bold they came to the conclusion that they would give the appearance of going on a nice tropical summer holiday, when in all actualities they would be going to the city of Perth, Australia, where they would be staying for the duration of the war. The Order explained to them that all of their memories of Hermione and magic would be completely erased and they would be simple Muggle dentists that had no children. After a tearful goodbye Hermione saw off her parents at the airport. When the war finally concluded some members of The Order traveled to the address that they had for the Grangers, and they were nowhere to be found. She had expected them to stay in one place in Australia, not pick up and move a month after she left them there. The Order stepped in and tried their best to find the missing Grangers but it seemed that they had disappeared without a trace.
In the months since her parents had disappeared, Professor McGonagall had stepped in as a surrogate mother. It was something that Hermione was extremely grateful for. So far she had come to her more than once for advice, especially where boys were concerned. Of course, being a single woman well into her later years, she had told Hermione that boys were nothing but trouble and that she should concentrate on her studies. After the Ron experience she decided that following that advice would be for the best. Somehow Professor McGonagall had convinced Professor Snape to take her as an assistant, which brought her to the present.
Just like every night, at seven thirty on the dot Hermione walked into the potions classroom and headed toward Professor Snape's office, where she immediately tossed aside her cloak and robes on a chair like she owned the place. She then quickly tied her hair back, which she decided she had to do after a rather nasty incident during their first brewing session, and headed into his personal lab.
"Good evening, professor," she called to him as she walked through the door.
Snape, who was knee deep in notes, nodded at her in greeting. He wasn't wearing his robes this evening, just a dress shirt, slacks, and his normal boots that Hermione swore up and down he had modified so they would amplify his footsteps as he patrolled the halls, all in the name of intimidation.
When he didn't vocally respond Hermione walked up to him and peered down at his notes. "I thought we were brewing more medicinal potions for Madam Pomfrey, not trying to find a cure for acne, sir."
He scowled at her. "Poppy has requested this potion. I don't feel it falls into the medicinal category by any means, but if it will keep the woman off of my back..." He trailed off as something on the page caught his eye.
"Humph." Hermione wrinkled her nose at him. "If you are going to waste time just because you want to get the sweetest woman in the castle off of your back, that's fine with me. I, for one, will be working." With that she whipped around and went into the ingredients closet.
She was rather surprised that he hadn't responded like he usually would have. Her snarky potions professor had been kidnapped and replaced by this more mellow version, and she was determined to figure out what his problem was.
Hermione emerged from the closet with her arms full of bottles and baggies filled with the items that were needed for this evening's session. Instead of beating around the bush she dove in head first, which he reminded her on a nightly basis was a Gryffindor trait through and through.
"You know, I would figure it would be Professor Trelawny that you would want to get off your back," she commented as she fished the ginger root out of the pile. "You would think that after the Christmas party that she would have given up by now."
Snape rose an eyebrow. "Is that really what you think?"
Hermione laughed. "After you not so politely told her to jog off, I would have gotten the picture pretty quick."
He finally looked up at her. "She finally got the picture after I told her I had another witch in mind."
She wasn't quite sure why, but the comment stung. He was her professor, not some possible romantic interest. Plus, she had a secret admirer. What would a grown man want with her anyway? All future snarky comments were out the window, leaving her with nothing more than a dumb sounding 'oh'.
The idea that he had another witch in mind seemed to kill all conversation for the evening. Before either one knew it, it was close to midnight. She heard her stomach growl and tried to make some sort of noise to cover up the sound coming from the irritated organ.
Apparently it wasn't enough. She felt him behind her, almost brushing up against her, as he peeked down over her shoulder and into the cauldron that she was working with. It sent a heat through her like wildfire, and for a moment she tossed around the idea of leaning back into his chest and inhaling his scent of patchouli and other mysterious scents that were just pure Severus Snape. "That will be enough for tonight," he said. "You are hungry."
Hermione shook her head. "No, I want to finish." She continued stirring the potion. "And, for your information, I'm not hungry."
Snape shook his head as he moved to the other side of the table. "Tell me another one," he said, with a light chuckle. "After the last six months, I know your body fairly well. Normally it's about eleven that your stomach begins to growl."
"If I eat, will you let me finish the potion?" she asked. Something was definitely off. He laughed, and he was trying to care for her.
He cast a quick stasis spell on the cauldron and took her by the arm. "Yes, if you eat I will let you finish." He pulled her out of his lab and into his personal quarters, sitting her at a modest dining table. To add insult to injury he added sneered at her and added, "We can't have you falling into the cauldron and ruining the batch because you are too stubborn to eat."
For what seemed to be the millionth time that day Hermione wrinkled her nose at him as he walked away. Before she had time to ponder what was wrong with him Snape reemerged with a tray of sandwiches and tea.
"It's not much, but enough to keep you satisfied until breakfast." He sat across from her and started to serve her a cup of tea and a ham sandwich.
"So, tell me about that special witch," she said offhandedly, as if she was talking about the weather.
Snape's usual scowl returned. "I don't think that is any of your business, Miss Granger."
Instead of leaving the subject alone she continued, just to get under his skin. "Knowing you she's nothing special." She took a sip of her tea.
He slammed his hand down on the table. "I assure you she's special," he shouted. "Not that it is any of your business!"
Hermione gave him her 'I'm going to find out' stare and dropped the subject. "Why did you ask me to remove my necklace earlier?" In the back of her mind, Hermione knew she was beginning to irritate him. She found that when he was irritated he would actually give her more straight answers instead of dancing around the truth.
"As I told you in the classroom, it was a distraction."
After months of working together he had dropped his emotional walls, but Hermione could feel him putting them right back up once more. She finished her sandwich and tea, then returned to the lab to finish her work for the evening.
-----
Hermione opened her eyes and grumbled after her alarm went off. She didn't finish brewing until almost two in the morning, followed by Snape giving her an ear full about not finishing promptly, which she immediately countered that she would have finished if he wouldn't have forced her to eat. He had walked her back to her dorm in silence, walking in front of her with his robes billowing.
When they finally made it to the portrait he had attempted to offer her something in form of a goodnight but she ignored him completely and slammed the portrait in his face. She was tired, she was pissed, and she still had that nagging feeling about his 'special woman'. There was no reason for her to feel so crushed, but for some awful reason it tore at her and made her chest feel like it was being crushed in an enormous vice.
She pulled back the curtains that hung around the bed and winced as the early morning sun hit her full force. Just as she expected, there was another package next to her clock on her bedside table.
Today's was a hideous yellow color that glittered. It was wrapped in a matching yellow bow that was equally as hideous in color. The two previous looked like the sender had taken precious time to construct the frilly things, while this one looked like it was done in five seconds flat and sent away. The box itself was quite large compared to the other two she had received.
This time she took no time to admire anything about the gift and pulled the lid off of the box. Instead of any sweets there was a single china tea cup with a strange dried flower inside. Slipped in beside the cup were two small pieces of parchment that looked like someone had hastily ripped them off of a larger piece.
Hermione read the first one.
In this cup is something to help you sleep. I assure you it is not harmful. Pour boiling water over the flower and let it steep for a fragrant and relaxing tea.
After last night's fitful sleep, Hermione was grateful that her admirer would think of her sleeping habits.
She sat the first piece of parchment in the box next to the cup and read the second.
"When love is your greatest weakness, you will be the strongest person in the world."
Hermione sighed. If only that were true in her case. She had seen it happen; after all, Voldemort was defeated by love, and Harry was alive because of the love of his mother. She slipped the quote back in with the cup and other parchment and replaced the lid on the box. In the back of her mind she hoped that her night with Snape wouldn't be as turbulent as the night before. In just a matter of hours she had gone from craving his company and intelligent conversation to mildly loathing the man.
The only way to find out was to get the day over with.
-----
All Hermione wanted was one normal school day, but it seemed that the whole of Hogwarts was set on having one big love-fest. In Advanced Transfiguration Professor McGonagall's replacement had decided that they would be making decorations for the upcoming ball. To add insult to injury the woman had decided to use Hermione to demonstrate, since she was the only one in the class that had the skills advanced enough to do all of the transfigurations on the first try. Hermione didn't see what was so bloody difficult about transfiguring colored paper into lengths of paper chain. She remembered making them faster by hand as a child in primary school than some of the dunderheads in the class were doing it with their wands.
Her mood became even darker when Professor Flitwick also decided that they would be doing charms that were seasonally appropriate.
"Love is the reason for the season!" he announced brightly.
Hermione thought about asking what in Merlin's name did ancient girls getting slapped to fertility with bloody pieces of sacrificial goat skin have anything to do with love, but she bit her tongue and did what was required of her. Her grade still hurt because of that one test she failed to pass one hundred percent, and if charming hearts that would float and throw confetti every thirty seconds made the little man happy she would make an entire room of them. When the room started filling with hearts of all shapes and colors, Hermione threw a random bat that tossed small skull shaped confetti into the mix just to make herself feel better. Flitwick never suspected his prize student for a moment and immediately pointed the finger at Slytherin, which pleased her greatly.
Thankfully Firenze had something different in mind for them. Hermione hated Divination with all of her being, but having Firenze as a teacher made it bearable. He was always mysteriously soft spoken, and never made a class more exciting by scaring the students by tales of their demise.
Instead of gushing about love as the other professors seemed to do, the Centaur kept his normal schedule. For two hours they sat in a lovely recreation of the Forbidden Forest staring at the stars. Of course there were those few girls in the class that thought it was all dreadfully romantic, sitting under the stars with such a handsome creature. Lavender asked her what she thought about it, and it took everything she had not to just scream at her.
Instead she tightly smiled. "I am not into inter-species erotica, thank you very much."
After the bell rang she stood and collected her things, intending on following the rest of her classmates to the Great Hall for dinner. A cool hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned around and faced the chilly blue eyes of her professor.
"Yes, Professor?" she asked. 'Please don't tell me he heard what I told Lavender,' she thought fiercely.
She was pleasantly surprised when he didn't scold her. "Your dark mood will be lifting soon, child," he said, in his normal soft raspy voice.
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione replied, smiling kindly. "After this holiday passes I will be right as rain." She had almost made it out of the classroom when he called for her.
"Miss Granger," he said, his voice just as quiet as it was when he stood next to her.
Hermione turned to face him.
"Do not worry, I am not, as you say, into inter-species erotica either." He winked at her before going off into his own little world once more.
-----
That evening Hermione waltzed into Snape's personal lab feeling better than she had since the whole Valentine's Day fiasco had begun. "Evening, Professor," she called out to him, even though he was nowhere in sight.
Snape emerged from behind a bookcase in just his shirt and trousers. "Good evening, Miss Granger."
She took in his state of moderate undress. At least undressed for him. His coat and vest were missing, as were his boots. The pale feet that stuck out of the end of his trousers seemed to glow in the firelight, and Hermione had to stifle a giggle.
"If you are finished gawking, I have something a little different planned for this evening." That said he opened the bookcase wide enough for her to enter his private rooms.
"Please don't tell me it's something romantic," she said, sounding mildly exasperated. The vice that had a grip on her chest seemed to loosen a bit when he chuckled warmly.
"I do assure you it is not harmful, nor does it have anything to do with romance," he told her. "It has more to do with food."
Hermione stopped and looked at him like he had grown a second head. "Food?"
He nodded and offered her a small smile. "Yes, food. Have you not noticed that the fine art of brewing potions is much like the art of preparing and cooking food?"
"But what does cooking have to do with brewing potions?" she asked, skittering behind him as he walked into the small apartment kitchen.
Snape stopped abruptly and she ran into him. "Actually, nothing at all." He ran his hands through his greasy hair. "Can you not enjoy a break at least once in your life?"
Hermione's eye's widened. 'Uh oh. He's in rant mode.'
Snape started to pace back and forth across the tiny kitchen. "Day after day you come here and we brew until midnight, sometimes later. You come in on the bloody weekends too! Do you ever just rest? You are losing weight, you have constant bags under your eyes, which aren't attractive on a young witch by the way, and you are beginning to snap at people who look at you wrong!" By the time he was finished with his little tirade his hair was mussed from running his hands through it, his cheeks an abnormal shade of red (at least abnormal for him), and his black eyes had a wild look in them. "Don't think I haven't noticed, Granger."
She narrowed her eyes. "What else do you expect me to do with my life? I haven't got parents, I haven't got many friends, and the ones that I have are wrapped up with girls and Quidditch, and the only time I'm at peace is when I am making myself useful! But what would you know about that?"
He stepped closer to her, close enough to feel the heat that radiated off of her angry body. "My parents were horrible people, I have no use for friends, women have never given me a second glance, and I wasted twenty years of my life for two basket cases that fancied themselves God! If you don't learn to stop for even just a few minutes you are going to kill yourself."
Hermione held herself higher and moved in closer so she was almost nose to chest with him. "I wouldn't look twice at you either! You don't pay any mind to your personal hygiene, you always have some smart ass comment to say regardless of the situation, and you swoop around the castle like an over grown bat! Did you charm your cloak to billow behind you?"
"Stooping to petty insults!" he yelled. "Your hair is such a mess it looks like a rats nest no matter what you do to it, I'm surprised your nose isn't completely flattened into your face from the hours you keep it in books, and I still see no difference in your teeth!"
She wasn't quite sure how it happened but the next thing she knew she was pressed against the small dining table, her professor kissing her with so much passion she felt it was going to consume them both. The vice on her chest had completely released and she kissed him back, threading her hands through his hair in case he had a sudden change of heart and tried to pull away from her. When he ran his tongue over her bottom lip all rational thought was lost. The only thing that existed in the world was him and his wonderful lips, and his hands that ran down her back and gripped her waist. At that moment, she was his.
Finally he pulled away from her, panting for breath. "I think that you should return to your dorms now, Miss Granger."
Hermione looked at him, mildly confused. "I think you are right, professor." She dashed out of the apartment, almost blinded by the tears in her eyes that were beginning to run down her cheeks.
Chapter 2
For once in her life she was glad that she wasn't forced to share a room with the other girls. When she got into the room she warded the door soundly and called for an elf to bring her a kettle of water. After Dobby delivered the water to her took off her uniform and put on her comfy pajamas, the ones that her mother had gotten for her when she spent a week in the hospital with appendicitis when she was thirteen. "This better work," she said to herself.
Carefully she removed the teacup from the box. As soon as the water hit the small flower the calming aroma washed over her and her nerves finally calmed enough for her tears to stop flowing. The 'blooming' of the flower was almost fascinating to her. As the water soaked into it's dried petals it began to regain it's purple color and return to it's original shape. Her eyes moved over the parchment.
'I do assure you it is not harmful.'
'I do assure you it is not harmful.'
'I do assure you it is not harmful.'
"That greasy git!" The urge to throw the teacup was strong.
The urge to throw the teacup in his face complete with tea was strong.
After a few deep breaths Hermione composed herself and sipped the tea.
She was going to murder him. Simply murder him.
-----
Just like clockwork there was another gift at her bedside the next morning. This one wasn't as hideously wrapped as the previous packages, instead being covered in a simple blue paper that didn't sparkle or shine. Today there was no bow, which almost disappointed Hermione in a way.
Inside the box was a set of hair clips. Hermione snorted. Yes, give hair accessories to the girl that has such curly hair that the accessories would probably get lost. Upon further inspection she noticed that they weren't just accessories: they were mini replicas of ribbon candy that shimmered as the light caught them. Each row of color was marked by a different stone, in green, white, red, and pink to be exact. It was a thoughtful gift, but who on earth in the castle would be able to afford these shy of Draco Malfoy? If he was going to buy anything that glittered Pansy Parkinson would be the one wearing it, and bragging all over school that 'her Draco' treats her like a bloody princess. Even though she was sure it was Snape that sent the tea, she doubted that he would ever be able to afford such a lavish gift for her.
She pulled the small hair clasps out of the box and picked up the parchment that was underneath.
"There is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved."
"Yeah right."
It took Hermione almost until breakfast to tame her hair enough to put in the clips. Thanks to the bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion that Lavender insisted that every woman should have her hair was now in manageable curls with her bangs clipped to the side using the clips. Hermione smiled at herself in the mirror. The little improvement made her feel really good. On a whim she pulled out the small makeup bag that Lavender also insisted that she have and applied a bit of lip gloss and a hint of mascara. There. Presentable. At least she didn't feel so plain in comparison to the clips.
When she did finally enter the Great Hall she felt like a million galleons. The boys that would have never given her a second glance were actually paying attention now, and the girls that said that she was hopeless whispered to each other. She took a seat next to Ron, Ginny and Harry and started to fill her plate with her favorite breakfast treats. "Morning, guys!"
"What the hell happened to you?" Ron asked her, his mouth full of food.
Hermione pursed her lips. "Is it a crime for a girl to want to look nice once in a while?" she snapped.
Harry put a hand on her shoulder. "I think you look good."
"Yeah," Ginny added, smiling at her friend. "It's about time you started to think about yourself."
"She looks like....like...a girl!" Ron still wore a wide eyed expression.
"I am a girl, thank you for finally noticing!" Ron's reaction made Hermione lose her appetite totally and she pushed away her plate. "You found out I am a girl during fourth year, if I recall correctly. Then you screamed at me."
"Yeah, but the next day it was gone so I figured it was a glamor or something! Oww! Gin!" He ducked away from Ginny's swatting hands.
"We think you look fine, don't we Harry?" Ginny gave him the 'agree or die' look.
Harry nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. "Totally smashing."
The rest of the meal went along with few things spoken. Well, few words that interested her. Ginny, Harry, and Ron spent the entire time talking about Quidditch, which Hermione didn't care about one way or another.
From time to time she could feel someone's eyes on her. She glanced around, trying to shake the feeing. Her eyes gravitated toward the head table and for a brief moment she met Snape's. Just as quickly as the moment came about it was over. Snape leaned over and began to speak with Professor McGonagall, the glaze that had covered his dark eyes immediately going away as he spoke to the older woman.
She still wanted to kill him. Unfortunately that would have to wait, at least until after their brewing session. If they even had another one. After the way he kissed her she figured he would be a coward and push her away. His declaration of not being a coward fell on deaf ears when it came to Hermione; Severus Snape may have been a war hero, but he failed miserably when it came to matters of the heart.
'What do I care?' she asked herself. 'He's my professor and I'm just a student.'
Hermione had another reprieve from the love crazy masses in Herbology. Apparently Professor Sprout felt the same way about the holiday and decided that they would be doing something simple yet disgusting: harvesting bubotuber puss. Neville sat happily next to her.
"You look really good today, Hermione," he commented, ducking to avoid a stray bubotuber that had slipped away from another student.
She smiled. "Thank you, Neville. It's nice to hear someone say that without it sounding forced."
At her reply, Neville squeezed the bubotuber in his hand particularly hard, sending the disgusting petrol smelling pus flying. "If they had to lie then they don't know what real beauty is."
The girly girl in Hermione swooned. Looking at Neville now, she noticed exactly how much he had changed since first year. Instead of a slightly chubby tongue tied boy with no confidence, a handsome confident man with a lean body and fabulous smile sat next to her. Before she knew it butterflies were raging in her tummy.
She didn't know exactly how to reply to that, so instead she blushed and muttered a quick 'thanks'.
After class Neville offered to walk her to her Arithmancy class, which Hermione thought was odd since his next class was on the other side of the castle, and walking there would possibly cause him to be late. Instead of making any argument she smiled and took his arm, ignoring the gasps and surprised looks of the other Gryffindor that were present.
Not even half way to the Arithmancy classroom the pair was stopped by the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat.
Hermione's stomach dropped. Only one person could sound that irritated even when clearing their throat.
"Miss Granger, Mr. Longbottom."
They both turned around to face a very irate looking Potions Master. All of the confidence poor Neville had gained was suddenly gone and he just stared at Snape with his mouth trying to form words.
"Yes, Professor Snape?" Hermione stepped in and asked, trying to save Neville from any more embarrassment.
Snape's scowl became even deeper than normal. "I am sure you are both aware that it is against school policy to show public displays of affection."
Neville just nodded dumbly, while Hermione was ready to tell him that student/teacher relationships were also prohibited yet it didn't stop him from throwing her onto his kitchen table and kissing the hell out of her. She narrowed her eyes. "He was escorting me to class, sir."
He seemed to smirk, which looked like just lesser version of his scowl. "It looks like you both will be escorting yourselves to detention this evening," he said, almost looking as if he was taking great pleasure of punishing the two Gryffindors. "Longbottom, you will report to Mr. Filtch at seven. Miss Granger, you will report to the lab promptly after dinner."
"But that's not fair, sir! Why do I have to come so early?" Hermione demanded. Instantly she knew it was the wrong thing to say.
"You will also report tomorrow after dinner, Miss Granger, and twenty points for questioning my judgement of your punishment. I will see you this evening." He stepped around them and continued on his way, leaving the pair seething.
"I can't believe that he did that," Neville groaned, the confidence back now that Snape was out of range. "That git!"
Hermione sighed. "You don't have to walk me any further," she said. "I'll see you tonight in the common room after detention."
Neville shook his head and grabbed her arm. "I told you I would walk you to class, so I am going to walk you to class!" He smiled at her brightly and the tummy butterflies came back.
To add to those butterflies, her mind was reeling. Could Neville be the one who sent those gifts to her, minus the tea? But why would he skip the day the tea arrived, unless he saw the package and figured someone had beat him to the chase? She quickly put the thoughts out of her mind as they arrived at the classroom door. Her full concentration would be needed today, and she didn't think that Professor Vector would be very forgiving if she slacked off.
-----
Hermione never said a word through dinner. There was no reason for her friends to suffer because she was in a bad mood. Because of him. She shot a glance at the head table and gave Snape her best 'I loath you' look. Of course he saw it and smirked, holding up his hand and wiggling three fingers, silently telling her that her two days of detention was now bumped up to three.
In a way, she didn't see the big deal about detention other than it was going to be on her record. She spent every night with him in the dungeons regardless. 'He's up to something,' she thought.
Immediately after the food was cleared from the table Hermione dashed off to the dungeons. Knowing him he meant as soon as she finished eating and would assign her another detention for being 'late'.
Just like every other night she left her belongings in his office and tied her hair back. Snape was already in the lab when she walked in. "I am here for my detention, Professor Snape."
Snape waved his hand through the air, dismissing what she said. "I am not assigning you detention. I am just making it look like it. We will complete our brewing sessions earlier so you may retire earlier."
"Pardon?" She was rather flabbergasted. It wasn't like Professor Snape to actually care for someone who wasn't a Slytherin, or care at all for that matter.
He walked over to her and took her face in his hands. "Dark circles are not becoming on a young witch such as yourself. You need more rest." He dropped his hands. "Tonight we will be brewing contraceptive potions," he informed her as he rounded the work table. "I am betting that almost half of the seventh year and possibly a dozen sixth year girls will be beating down Poppy's door the morning after the ball." He started arranging bottles that were already set out. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to be dealing the offspring of these dunderheads anytime soon. Especially any more Longbottoms," he said tightly, glaring at her.
Hermione's mouth dropped open. "What exactly are you insinuating, sir?"
"I know you aren't one to bestow your affection on anyone other than Potter or Weasley. You looked rather cozy with Longbottom this morning," he said without looking up at her.
She slammed her hands down on the table. "So that automatically means I'm sleeping with him?"
He finally looked up. "Unless girls of this generation are any different from those of my generation, it's an easy conclusion to come to."
"Why are you being such a bastard?" she shouted. "The past two days you have been crueler than usual!"
"I never said I was nice," he countered.
"When would I have any time to have sex with Neville? I'm always here with you! If anything that means, by your twisted point of view, that we are sleeping together!"
He raised an eyebrow. "It wouldn't be entirely unheard of, you know. Masters using their assistants for sexual gratification is common place in the Wizarding world."
Hermione sighed. There was no winning an argument with Severus Snape. "Fine. Let's begin so I can leave early, and follow through with your suggestion. There are perks to having your own room, you know." She snatched a baggy of dried rue herb off of the table. "Reserve a strong bottle of this for me, would you? You know us teenage girls, always shagging everything that moves. I'd hate to have to spend nine months and six weeks with my knees together."
-----
Hermione left the dungeons at eleven, which was a lot earlier than normal. When she got into the common room Ron, Harry, and Neville were all sitting around one of the chess boards watching Ron murder a fifth year boy. Using all of the Gryffindor courage that she could muster she walked up to Neville. "Neville, will you go to the ball with me?"
For a moment Neville looked almost surprised and he adopted the mumbling slack jawed look that he normally reserved for Snape. Hermione smiled. She had expected a reaction, just not this one.
It took nearly a minute for poor Neville to recover, but when he did he gave her a near blinding smile. "Sure, Hermione! I'd be delighted to be your date!"
She returned his smile. "Great! See you in the morning!" She kissed him on the cheek and dashed to her room.
When she made it in she slammed the door and leaned on it, breathing hard. "What did I just do?" She moved to her bed and laid down, thinking about the interactions that she had with Neville over the years, how he had grown from a bumbling boy to a confident man. He wasn't bad to look at, either! At least she was guaranteed for some good intelligent conversation and some dancing. She giggled when she recalled that Harry had caught Neville dancing by himself in the boy's dorm at night, practicing so he wouldn't disappoint Professor McGonagall when it came time for the Yule Ball. Of course it didn't do much, if Ginny's complaints of aching feet had anything to say about it.
Take that, Snape.
------
The next morning Hermione's eyes immediately flew to the night table, where another gift was waiting for her. To her surprise there were two boxes today; a delightful box of pink and white and then a box wrapped totally in green. Since the pink and white one caught her eye immediately she reached for it first.
She removed the lid and a beautiful emerald ring sat inside. It was just a simple gold band with emeralds set in the metal. Who on earth would spend the money on such a lavish gift for her? Didn't this person ever wonder if she was going to just turn him down?
Instead of putting it back she slipped it onto her ring finger of her right hand. The band that looked a bit too large magically shrank to fit her dainty finger.
She looked into the box, hunting for the note that normally would be there, but there was none. Her features scrunched in confusion. Could this be a gift from a different person?
Putting the thought aside she reached for the other box, the almost ugly green one. She yanked the lid off. A bottle of potion and a piece of parchment.
She pulled the bottle out and set it on the night table, then unfolded the piece of parchment.
Here is your 'strong bottle' of contraceptive that you requested. For the love and health of every cauldron in Hogwarts, remember to take it.
-Professor Snape
"That bastard!" She balled up his note and threw it into the fireplace. She was about to put the potion back into the box when she noticed another note inside. "What else could he feel is vital to tell me?"
She opened the folded parchment and her breath caught.
"I love you - those three words have my life in them."
No way. No bloody way!
Hermione slammed her fist down on the table a few times in anger and frustration. Snape had been sending the gifts? She was his special witch? She couldn't believe that he was distracted enough to send his little love note in with the potion instead of with the ring.
She took a few deep breaths and composed herself. There was no way that she was about to let Snape know that the kneazle was out of the bag. Instead she was going to attend the ball with Neville and pray in the back of her mind that he didn't have his heart set on them being an item.
On the day of the ball, Severus Snape was going to get a piece of her mind.
That didn't take away the horrible feeling that she was almost using Neville to get back at Snape.
After she dressed she walked slowly down into the common room, hoping Neville hadn't decided to wait on her. She still needed to figure out a plan. Unfortunately, he sat on one of the plush chairs, his face lighting up as he saw her coming down the staircase. He stood and approached her. "Hermione! I'm glad you are an early riser like me. Would you like to walk to breakfast together?"
Hermione dumbly nodded, almost wanting to tell Snape to shove off so she could go on and be a regular teenage girl and date the attractive boy that had his hand lovingly on her lower back, almost as if he were guiding her to The Great Hall to eat. She was in and out of her thoughts, but she did hear bits and pieces of what he was saying.
He wanted to color coordinate their outfits for the ball?
"I think I'm going to wear green this year," she said, already imagining the robes she had gotten a few months ago in case any formal event popped up.
Neville raised an eyebrow. "Green? Isn't that a little... Slytherin?"
She shook her head. "Isn't that a little narrow minded?"
He seemed to clam up. "You're right. I'm sorry."
From that point on he was silent. When they reached the Great Hall he led her over to their usual spot and they had a silent breakfast. Hermione assumed that Neville thought he had offended her, which in a way he did. She still wouldn't give up her Gryffindor pride for anything, but after Dumbledore's death and the end of the war Professor McGonagall had pressed the issue of inter-house unity.
After breakfast Neville walked her to the potions classroom and they parted ways.
Hermione refused to look at Snape during the lesson. Possibly because she was ignoring him Snape seemed more and more intent on putting her on the spot and calling her out more than usual. It was like he never seemed to see anyone else in the room. Oddly enough Draco was the one waving his hand in the air seeking the professor's attention. If she hadn't been so angry Hermione would have been wondering exactly how the roles had gotten reversed.
At the end of the class period she approached Professor Snape's desk with her bottle of Exploding Fluid in hand. When she handed him the potion she made sure to hold her hand in a way that the little light in the room would catch the stone in the ring she wore. She watched as his eyes momentarily settled on the ring. His expression was empty and almost cold.
"That is a very pretty ring that you are wearing, Miss Granger," he said quietly.
She smiled sweetly. "You would know, wouldn't you?"
"I wouldn't know what you are talking about, Miss Granger."
"Like you wouldn't." She turned to return to her desk. "I will see you at the ball tomorrow night."
Chapter 3
As soon as the alarm clock went off Hermione darted for her night table.
Nothing.
A deep crease formed between her eyebrows. Did Snape figure out that he had screwed up yesterday and chickened out?
In a way, she was disappointed. The attention made her feel special, made her feel needed and cherished. It was a feeling that she wasn't used to, but once she learned what it felt like she soaked it in and wanted more. Even if it meant Snape making her feel that way she was still pleased. He wasn't a bad man, after all, just a bit misunderstood. Ok, very misunderstood, but that was neither here nor there. More of a matter of opinion.
Regardless, tonight was the Valentine's Ball, and she would be having a good time Snape be damned. She had a sweet and handsome man to accompany her and damn it all she was going to enjoy it. It was worth it just to see him squirm, like she had many times before when matters of the heart became the topic of conversation.
She glanced over at the clock. 9AM. That was plenty of time to soak in a bath and then fully prepare. She was going to knock their socks off tonight.
Hermione hopped out of bed and grabbed her house coat off of the bedpost, then grabbed her bath basket off of the table that sat at the foot of the bed. Todays essentials had changed a bit; lavender bubble bath with matching moisturizer to make sure she had radiant skin, an extra strength bottle of Sleekeazys, enough hair pins to tame even the rowdiest of hair, and her makeup bag.
Today was going to be a good day.
----------
"....and then I told him that we would be wearing purple and that was final!"
Hermione wanted to drown herself.
The moment she stepped into the deep tub of steaming water Lavender showed up with her bath basket in hand and slid into the next tub over. On average a little girl talk wouldn't be too terribly bad. Unfortunately Lavender took 'girl talk' as 'only Lavender talk', hence the death wish by drowning.
"Purple, Lavender?" she asked, wondering if the girl had taken into account that her name was a flower that just happened to be a pleasant shade of light purple, or if Weasley torture was the order of the day.
Lavender nodded. "Yes, purple. It is the it thing to do, you know, color coordinating for an event. That way everyone will know who your date is!"
Hermione thought the logic was a load of crap. If that were the case, then Pansy would have been Ron's date to the Yule Ball fourth year because the pink accents in his lacy dress robes would have matched Pansy's dress. Well, if he would have actually kept the lace on the robes.
"I am not sure what color Neville is wearing, but I have decided to wear green." 'Let's see what she has to say about that!'
Lavender scoffed. "Isn't that awfully Slytherin of you? I think you've been spending too much time with Snape. He's converting you."
"What is it with everyone completely ignoring Professor McGonagall and harboring ill feelings toward so called rival houses?" Hermione got out of the tub and grabbed her towel. "The war is over, not all Slytherins are bad, get over it!" She gave Lavender the harshest look she could muster as she dried off and put her robe on.
She was surprised that Lavender didn't have some sort of stupid remark to fire back. Instead the girl was quiet as Hermione packed her basket and left the bathroom. At least if she was in her own room she could get ready in her nice green robes and matching green shoes in peace. To add insult to injury she considered doing green eye makeup too. Right now she was ready to dress as the bloody Slytherin princess if she had to, just to get the point across.
When Hermione arrived in her room, her robes had already been laid out on her bed. After turning S.P.E.W. into a side project she began to enjoy the house elves, though she would never completely treat them like little slaves. Thanks to her effort to free every house elf by giving them knitwear, the only elf that would have anything to do with her was Dobby. The others were afraid that 'spewey lady' would give them hats and pamphlets if she saw them for even a split second.
She sat at her vanity and began to work on her unruly hair. Stroke after stroke of the hairbrush seemed to take her mind to other places: how would Snape react tonight? Would he react? Was he playing a prank on her? Should she call him a nasty old pervert and dash off into the night with Neville?
Dashing off into the night with Neville wouldn't be half bad, she reasoned. He was sweet, considerate, and knew a lot about herbology. Unfortunately that was one of the subjects she really didn't give two rats about. At least she would be offered something yummy to look at while he droned on about plants. Ooh! And the bonus of watching him work without a shirt in the small fields behind Hogwarts...very nice possibilities.
On the other hand there was snarky Potions Master Severus Snape. He was as ugly as sin, had a killer sense of humor (when he wasn't using his sharp tongue to rip students to shreds), but he also knew how to hold an intelligent conversation that Hermione wouldn't grow bored with. So he wasn't much to look at, but he was very intelligent.
Yummy, or intelligence. Those were the choices.
She winced as she caught a particularly nasty knot.
If only there was a way to combine those two things, intelligence and yummy. Then she would be a very satisfied girl.
Hermione looked at her reflection in the mirror and frowned. Her hair was no better than it was when she started. Ok. Plan B. Some creative wand work, a lot of pins, and a touch of hairspray later she had an elegant little updo. Not very frilly, but functional.
She spent a little more time on her makeup than she normally would. Natural was still the aim, though a nice smoky eye and a dash of color on the lips completed her night look without making her look like a streetwalker.
As she went to put on the robes she noticed another package on the night table that wasn't there before. Instead of the plain square boxes that she had been getting before this one was flat, no frills, and no paper. She wasted no time grabbing the box and pulling off the lid. Inside was a necklace that matched the ring she was wearing. It wasn't anything very large, just a simple gold chain with an emerald pendant dangling from it. Smiling, Hermione put it on. Just as she was about to toss the box into the rubbish bin, she noticed the note.
'Sex alleviates tension. Love causes it.'
Make sure you have the potion on hand tonight.
The nerve of that man!
----------
For thirty minutes Hermione waited at the entrance to the Great Hall. Neville told her that he would meet her there at eight sharp. Here it was eight thirty and the party was already raging inside, and she was all alone waiting for him. Why would he do that to her? She felt her lip begin to quiver at the thought of being stood up, by Neville of all people. Just when she was about to give up she heard rushing footsteps coming for her.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione! I got held up!" Neville stopped in front of her, heaving for breath. "I had to wait until sunset for these." He pulled a small bouquet from behind his back. Hermione wasn't quite sure what they were exactly, but they almost looked like roses, and they smelled heavenly. She lifted them to her nose and smiled.
"I think I may be able to excuse you just this once," she said with a wink, and was rewarded with a nice blush from Neville. "Are you going to escort me in, or are you going to stare all evening?"
One would think that Neville couldn't blush any deeper, but somehow he managed to turn a pleasant shade of dark red as he held out his arm for Hermione to take. "I'm glad you like the flowers. I've been growing them since September. Professor Sprout says I have an award winning plant on my hands."
"You harvested flowers off of your award winning for me?" she asked, feeling rather honored that he would do that for her.
He grinned. "A special flower for a special girl."
Her girly girl side swooned. Who would have thought that Neville could sweet talk?
Hermione allowed him to lead her to the table where Ron and Harry were sitting. "No lace this time, Ron?" she joked.
Ron looked at her with a dark expression. When Lavender said that they were coming in purple, she wasn't kidding. While she looked elegant in her purple robes with white trim, Ron looked absolutely ridiculous in his purple and white trimmed robes that could have been mistaken for a women's set if not for the space for a flower on the lapel.
Harry and Ginny on the other hand seemed to be genuinely enjoying themselves. Now that he was off of his 'Chosen One' high horse he and Ginny had grown extremely close. The rest of the world was far far away to them; they sat so close that she was almost sitting on his lap, their heads pushed together in what seemed like deep conversation, but Hermione knew better. Ginny seemed to bring out the best in the boy, and chances are they were discussing how they were going to still stay together during her last year at Hogwarts.
She and Neville sat between the two couples, looking rather awkward between the smitten couple on their left and the 'there will be a brawl any moment' couple on the right. Instead of letting it get to him Neville began to serve Hermione a plate, a little of each dish that sat in the middle of the table.
"You are going to need all of the energy you can get tonight!" he said with a grin. All action at the table seemed to stop, everyone turning to look at him. Finally he realized what he said and turned the color of the deep red table cloth. "For dancing!" he clarified quickly. "Lots and lots of dancing!"
The table erupted in laughter while Neville seemed to sink lower into his chair.
"You're gonna need energy to heal your toes after you get done dancing with him," Ginny quipped. "I swear I couldn't walk correctly for a week after the Yule Ball."
"I told you I was sorry," Neville said, almost in a whiney tone.
"Yeah, yeah," Ginny shot back, rolling her eyes and and laughing.
Hermione was rather quaint just watching the banter as she tucked in to her pasta. It wasn't the banter she preferred, but she was still quite angry at the person who provided that banter. As she ate she watched for him, wondering when he was going to show up. She was already late as it is, so for all she knew he had already come and gone, and was now in the courtyard where Professor Flitwick had charmed a rose garden, looking for people who were just trying to enjoy their Valentine's Day with their sweetheart.
Her thoughts were broken when Neville put his hand on her arm. "Would you like to dance?" he asked hopefully. "I promise I won't step on your toes. Much."
She smiled at him. "That sounds lovely." She allowed him to help her stand, then followed him out to the dance floor. The band began to play a simple waltz, one that Professor Flitwick happily announced that he had spent the entire fall term composing.
"I haven't told you that you really look lovely tonight," Neville said to her as he twirled her around.
Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Neville. I'm glad that you decided to -ouch- come to the ball with me."
He looked away meekly when she looked down at her injured toes, and offered a quiet 'sorry'. "I'm having a great time," he said, brightly.
"So - ouch- am I."
After three songs and many toe injuries (completed with just as many 'sorrys') the band had just begun to play a lovely waltz when Neville stopped. Over his shoulder, in all of his intimidating glory, stood Professor Snape. "May I cut in?"
Confident Neville once again was swept away and replaced with the meeker version saved for Snape alone. "Y-y-yes." Suddenly, like he had apparated away, Neville was gone.
Hermione stepped up to her new partner and allowed him to lead her into a slow but steady waltz. "I've never seen you dance before," she commented. Normally he stood on the sidelines, laying in wait for a couple to get a little too close before he'd swoop in and push them apart.
"There is a first time for everything, isn't there Miss Granger," he said smoothly.
"Like everything else, you do it well."
Snape snorted. "There are some things that I don't do well."
"Pick up women?" she threw out there, wanting to get a rise out of him.
"Ha ha, Miss Granger." He twirled her around, followed by a dip. "Transfiguration," he muttered.
"Pardon? I didn't quite pick that up." She grinned at him.
"Transfiguration," he said, much clearer. "When I was a student, Minerva swore that I was the worst student that she had taught in her career."
She smiled up at him. "At least there was potions."
He returned her smile, only his version looked like a lesser scowl. "Indeed, at least there was Potions."
She was beginning to like dancing with Snape. His moves were quick and confident, and not once did he smash her toes. He moved with a strange grace that she didn't think he would have outside of a potions classroom. The hand he kept on her waist was just as confident, almost to the point of possessive.
Just as she was beginning to truly enjoy herself the song ended and he stepped away from her. "May I have a word with you, in the courtyard?" He held his arm out for her.
In lieu of an answer, she took his arm and allowed herself to be led out of the Great Hall and into the courtyard rose garden.
-----------
Once in the garden he led her over to a bench, which he immediately stepped over, leaving the bench between them. Hermione wondered what was so damn important that he had to have the bench between them, almost like a barrier.
He was short and to the point. "Why are you here with Longbottom?"
Hermione wanted to slap him. "And just how is my date any of your business?" she yelled.
"He's not good enough for you!" Snape yelled back. "Don't waste your intelligence with some boy who wouldn't know monkshood from wolfsbane and can blow up a cauldron by simply looking at it!"
"Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same thing!"
"Exactly!"
She put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. "You make no sense! Neville is at the top of our class in herbology. I'd expect him to know the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane."
"It does not matter if I make sense or not, he does not deserve you!"
"And just who do you think does deserve me?"
Snape scowled at her and looked away.
"I want things to be like before," she said. Her lip began to quiver and she felt the tears beginning to form behind her eyes. "Before this Valentine's Day shit, before I started getting strange gifts every morning, before you had your eye on a 'special witch', before you kissed me and acted like nothing happened!"
Snape stormed around the bench and grabbed her by the shoulders. "That witch has been there for a year and she isn't going away now if I have any say in it," he said as he lowed his lips to hers and kissed her like he had a few nights before. "I can't go sing through the hallways that I've found my special witch, they would have me thrown in Azkaban, or possibly St. Mungos," he whispered. He wiped away the tears that had started to roll down her cheeks with one callused thumb. "Otherwise the whole world would know that the greasy bat of the dungeons captured the know-it-all of Gryffindor and doesn't plan on letting her go." He kissed her again, only more gently. "That is, if she will have me."
She wasn't quite sure what to say, so she settled on resting her head against his chest. The warm patchouli and scent that was purely him wrapped around her and calmed her nerves, and that awful feeling in her chest that kept creeping up on her when she was around him ran as soon as his lips touched hers. "So it was you that sent the packages?"
"Packages?" he asked. "I only sent you tea and mother's ring and necklace set."
Hermione pulled back. "So you didn't send me these clips? Or the sweets?"
He shook his head. "No, I had only planned on sending you something the day before the ball, which you are now wearing," he said, gesturing to the simple pendant that dangled between her breasts.
"Someone has been leaving me gifts," she said. "Every morning since the ninth. I knew you sent the tea, but the strange thing is there wasn't anything else left that morning. And each package had a quote about love, in your writing."
Snape snorted. "You of all people should know that I'm not a flowers and candy type of man."
"Exactly! That's why it confused me!" She crossed her arms and began to think. "Unless the sender managed to get their hands on one of Fred and George's new quill prototypes, that duplicates handwriting...." She tapped her foot. "But that wouldn't explain how the last sappy note got stuck in with the contraceptive potion...."
At that he laughed nervously. "I can explain that one. I was very upset with you, you know. I still have one last bottle of Firewhiskey that the Headmaster gave me before his death. Well, had." He ran his hands through his hair, something Hermione noticed he did when he was nervous around her. "I wanted to let you know that you were my special witch when I sent the ring."
She smiled at him. "And you call us the dunderheads." She reached up and kissed him lightly. "I brought it, you know."
"Pardon?"
"The last note? It told me to bring the potion."
"I didn't send that, just mother's necklace."
Hermione 'humph'ed. "I have it in any case. Is it as strong as you claim it to be?"
Snape smiled a genuine smile. "Shall we find out?" He offered his arm, which Hermione gladly took, and he led her out of the garden and in the direction of the dungeons.
---------
Two large, green tennis ball shaped eyes teared up as the couple passed in the hallway. Cautiously the diaper clad house elf emerged from behind the suit of armor and grinned. "Harry Potter's friend and the nasty Snape will be so happy! Maybe they will be making big nosed bushy haired babies for Dobby to take care of!"
He clapped his hands gleefully.
Another house elf appeared behind Dobby, a piece of sparkling purple ribbon dangling from one ear. "Did Moile do good?"
"Very good," Dobby said, nodding. "Snape will be leaving Harry Potter alone! Harry Potter will be very happy!"
Dobby took Moile's hand, and in the blink of an eye they were gone.