Chapter Text
Severus stood in the library of Grimmauld place, looking out the window. The storm was coming. It was mid august and he could not wait for this Order meeting to be done and over with. Dumbledore, his delusional all-for-greater-good puppet master, was more cryptic than ever. Not giving away more than one thing at a time. As if knowing the entire plan would change a damn thing. As if Snape had any say in how the war will play out. It infuriated him. Voldemort, his other self-serving megalomaniac master, was becoming more and more relentless. Constantly planning new missions to instill the fear into wizards and muggles alike. For the first time in many years, Snape could not wait for the summer to be over. When the school term begins, he will finally have a proper reason to excuse himself from attending the madness at the Malfoy manor. To remain at the periphery of Voldemorts schemes. He was a spy, after all. Not a fucking mercenary.
There was another reason Snape desperately wanted to turn his back on summer. He missed seeing her. Her halo of honey colored curls, that seemed to only grow longer each year. He missed seeing her laugh with her friends, and catch her eyes across the school library. She never looked away, Snape thought. Her whiskey eyes filled with that Gryffindor bravado each time they locked gazes. Almost as if she dared him to move. To do...something.
He whispered her name on a sigh.
“Hermione.”
It was around her fourth year, when he could no longer view her as a disruptive, hand waving chit who constantly ruined his lesson plan with her excessive urge to prove herself. She was no longer annoying, but inquisitive. First, Miss Granger was just an intriguing mind. Then, slowly, that intriguing mind was joined by the pretty face. Snape remembered thinking, she will probably become a woman he once dared to dream of, when he himself was nothing but a teenager. Snape was certain Miss Granger would grow into a beautiful, powerful witch. He was, as usually, right. And as usually, that was not to his own benefit.
He knew all kind of witches. Beautiful, shallow, weak, cunning, ambitious… He never seemed to care much for any of them. Now...there was one who had captured his full attention. Too bad the one who was actually becoming that rare potent combination of all he desired in a woman, was nineteen years too young. Muggleborn. Gryffindor.
The door to the dingy townhouse library creaked open and pulled him out of his reveries. Snapes head snapped up and found his eyes locked with the witch he was just thinking of. As if summoned by his rather loud thoughts of her, Hermione Granger stepped forward, not blinking, not shying away from his dark, piercing gaze. “Hello, professor.” She greeted him softly, a hint of a smile lingering on her rosy lips.
The library was rather small and murky. Darker yet with the natural light going dim from the storm clouds. Yet there she was. The whole room seemed to come alight when she was in it.
“Miss Granger” he managed to nod in reply, schooling his face into an expressionless mask.
“Enjoying the last days of the summer?” he added a bit gruffly, raising that single imperious brow.
He took a step to the side, letting her walk past him. But he could not stop his eyes from roaming down her figure, drinking in the sight in front of him. The straps on her shoulders were so thin, he could barely see them there. Her milk white skin was dusted with tiny constellations of freckles. The dress was certainly vintage, one slate of Burgundy red fabric with small buttons down the front of her gown. How very Gryffindor, indeed. It was a tight fit from her waist up, almost corset like. From the waist down however, it flared out just enough to emphasise the curve of her hips. Severus thanked the Gods, it was just long enough to cover most of her legs. Under it, she wore some leather strapped sandals, that criss-crossed their way up her silky calves and under her skirt. Snape suddenly felt hot and overdressed, even if he was sans his usual teaching robes.
“Not so much, really.” She paused by the shelves, glancing back at him.
“Honestly, I cannot wait for the term to begin. I am not one to sit idly.”
“I see. I find myself in the same position.” He drawled.
“I can only enjoy the quiet of the castle for so long, before it starts to annoy me.”
Severus almost shook his head in astonishment. Since when did he converse so easily? Disclose his personal preferences?
“Have you ran out of interesting books then, Sir?” She dared ask, her elegant fingers rifling trough dusty stacks of books on a shelf near her head.
He got so caught up in watching Miss Granger caress the book spines, he almost forgot she actually posed him another question.
“Obviously...” the reply left his mouth before he could even collect himself. He scowled immediately, annoyed at the fact he obviously could no longer uphold his usual cold, detached demeanor.
“They only publish so much of new research articles per year. Unfortunately, most of them are rubbish.”
“You mean the National Potions publication?” Looking up, she smirked.
“I have read it and can only agree. Some of the ideas they presented sound like they were written up by a fourth year, and not a bright one at that. Last year, they at least had the decency to edit it properly.”
Her voice filled with outrage, as she spoke.
Severus almost laughed. And almost choked trying to hide it.
“All right there, Professor?” She turned, a thick volume in her hand.
“Khm. Yes. Indeed, your remark.” He was still struggling to breathe normally.
“It caught me by surprise.” Then, he almost choked again, seeing what tome she held in her hands.
“That book though, Miss Granger… do you intend to actually read it?”
Hermione glanced down and saw the naked woman on the velvet cover, a mans head buried between her legs. Her cheeks blushed a lovely pink shade. The spine of the book read Sorchas guide to protective magicks, but the front cover revealed the book was not, as she hoped, about warding, but about contraception. Under the picture, a small inscription said ‘protect your pleasure from burdens of undesired motherhood’.
“Oh, Gods!” Flustered, she all but shoved the book back on the shelf.
“Gods, no! I - Well. I only read the spine and thought it was about basic warding spells.” She sighed, obviously embarrassed.
“I need to learn how to ward my parents house.”
Severus felt like he should lift her mood somehow. “Perhaps...you could start with this one instead.”
Moving closer to Hermione, he felt her eyes on him. He towered over her and instead of waiting for her to retreat, he pulled a tome from one of the top shelves. Snape was standing so close their bodies almost touched. Stretching somewhere far above her, Hermione could not hide her awe.
She knew Snape was tall, but as he stood there, wearing only black trousers, a black shirt and a matching waistcoat, she drank in the contours of his figure. The victorian teaching robes he usually wore hid away his slim, muscular build. Now a classic mans watch was glinting at his left wrist, his sleeves were rolled up and exposed pale skin stretching tightly over beautiful musculature.
Hermione felt like salivating, when his long fingers held a large, green book with a washed out inscriptions on the cover. He held it to her, catching her gaze.
“This should be just the thing to get you started.” Snapes voice was smooth as velvet.
“It was my first book on the subject, anyway. Proprietary protection, by Phineas Wantalle.”
Hermione could feel the smile blooming on her cheeks, as she took it. Their hands touched briefly and sent a jolt of electricity racing up her arm.
“Thank you, Sir. It would have taken me the rest of the summer to find it. Now I can spend it reading up on the subject instead.”
They were silent for a moment, but she could not take it. She was so overwhelmed with gratitude, she could hug him. Of course she would do no such thing - except in her head. She desperately needed another outlet.
“Please forgive me for asking, I do not know your taste in literature, but perhaps I could recommend a few books I enjoyed reading?” A shy smile tugged at her lips, as she let her gaze leave the book in her hands, searching for his eyes instead.
“They just might ease your mind for the remainder of summer silence.” Hermione held her breath.
This is the most forthcoming she had ever been in conversation with him. Books felt so intimate to her, she felt as if she had just stripped herself naked. To their, obviously mutual surprise, he replied with a curt nod, as if signaling her to go on.
She became better at reading his almost immobile expressions in the past couple of years. At least one upside to her years long crush. Crush? An obsession, more likely. But Hermione learned quickly - his eyes were so emotional, so expressive, even if the rest of him remained still. Now, he was looking at her with a mix of surprise, curiosity and weariness. No scowling or snarling at her. That, at least, was good. Feeling encouraged, she went on.
“Khm. I better get to it. “ she said lightly.
Another surprised look, but he remained silent.
Snape was observing her like she was a rare bird that might just fly off, if he as much as made a sound. Hermione took a muggle pen and a leather bound notebook from the hidden pocket of her dress. She wrote down a list of her favourite muggle novels, ranging from murder mystery, to drama and dystopian fiction.
“There you go” she said finally, straightening up and holding a piece of paper between them. Severus could not help him self, he intently brushed his fingers over her hand for the second time in just minutes, as he took the offered list.
Just as he opened his mouth to say thanks, the door of the library almost flew off its hinges, followed by two dunderheads stumbling inside. Potter and Weasley. Of course.
“Here you are ‘Mione, we should have known you would already be hauled up here with… “ Potter never got to finish the sentence, so abruptly he stopped in his tracks as he spotted no one other than Severus Snape, holding Hermione’s hand.
Severus would laugh at the comical expressions passing the two faces, but he sensed Hermione tensing up as if she was caught red handed. Brushing a thumb over her fingers in a calming gesture, he felt quite reluctant to let go.
“Thank you for your assistance, Miss Granger.” He inclined his head in her direction, and strode off.
Watching Snape leave the room, Hermione almost sighed. The library grew wide and dark without his charismatic presence filling it. She turned to her boys, still gaping at her.
“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron recovered first.
“The bloody bat of the dungeons with his hands all over you?!” The outrage in his voice grew accusatory with every word.
“Professor Snape,” she emphasized, “just helped me acquire a book I spent the entire summer looking for.“ She felt like hissing.
“I tried to thank him by writing down some interesting book suggestions. I am not the only person in the world who actually reads!” Her voice had begun to pitch higher with her growing annoyance.
Honestly, why in the world did she need to explain herself over and over again?!
Harry, ever the mediator, thought it best to pull his friends out of the library, and back downstairs.
None of them noticed the dark wizard, who stood by the door to listen. The lightning split the sky as a crooked grin spread slowly over his features.