The Burning Pen

In An Alternate Universe Someplace
by Ruth Solomon aka Ms_Figg

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 20

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 20 ~ The Prince and the Potions Mistress

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After collecting all the students’ left behind books and parchments, Professor Granger stormed out of her Potions classroom and toward the Great Hall.

Ron, who was seated at the table in front of a precarious pile of food that threatened to topple over at any moment, suddenly stopped eating and shuddered. He swallowed and looked at Severus.

”Did you feel an icy chill?” he asked, shuddering again.

”No,” Severus said, biting into a pork chop.

Her eyes narrowed, Hermione scattered a few of her own charges as she billowed through the dungeons with purpose, bumping into Crabbe and snapping at him to watch where he was walking.

”Wow,” Crabbe said to Draco as Granger passed, her face pinched in a scowl. “Professor Granger seems pissed off.”

”That’s her ‘Hunting’ scowl,” Draco said in a near-whisper, “Whoever she’s looking for is in for it. Glad it’s not me.”

”Brrrr,” Ron said, hugging himself and looking about. “If I didn’t know we were inside, I’d swear there was a storm coming.”

“Just eat, Ron,” Severus snapped, “before that mountain of food in front of you falls over and sweeps us away.”

Harry chuckled. Ron did have an awful amount of food on his plate. Sometimes Harry suspected he had a tapeworm or two. No matter how much Ron ate, he never got any bigger.

”It’s the Weasley metabolism,” he’d say between forkfuls.

Hermione turned into the Entrance Hall, stampeding a few more students as she stalked toward the main doors of the Great Hall. The students all held back and let her pass. It was unusual that the Potions mistress entered supper in such a manner. Usually she used the Teacher Entrance.

Granger was just about to rip the doors open when she was called.

”Ah, Professor Granger, a word if you please,” the voice of Albus Dumbledore rang out behind her.

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. The Headmaster would pick this time to stop her. What in the world did he want? There was a student to terrorize.

Hermione turned to see Albus smiling at her benignly, dressed in royal purple robes, his long beard braided into two plaits with matching purple bows on the end. She sighed and walked toward him.

”Yes, Headmaster?” she said with a hint of irritation.

”I noticed you were in quite a hurry to get into the Great Hall. Usually you use the Teacher’s Entrance,” the wizard said curiously.

Hermione fought the urge to blatantly roll her eyes. Albus was definitely fishing. Why didn’t he ever just ask what he wanted to know?

”Yes. A situation has arisen concerning one of our students. Something that might even require expulsion from the school,” Hermione said to him.

Both of Albus’ eyebrows rose at this.

”Expulsion? That is quite a harsh punishment, Professor Granger. Usually the worst we give is suspension,” the Headmaster said.

”If what I suspect is true, Headmaster, then the situation is so extreme that expulsion is the only possible punishment to suit the crime,” Hermione responded.

”Crime? Has someone been murdered, Professor?” Albus asked her.

”Not yet,” she said, her eyes narrowed.

The Headmaster thought she looked angry enough to do a bit of life-taking herself.

”Would you care to give me the details of this grievous infraction, Professor?” Albus asked her.

Hermione shook her head.

”No, sir. Not until I investigate and get both an explanation and a confession from the student involved,” she responded, “After which I will apprise you of the situation and give you my recommendation.”

“That is fine, Professor Granger. Just make sure that physical torture is not one of the methods used to secure the confession,” Albus said, fully aware Hermione could torture someone just as well with her words, which could be sharp and cutting as knives.

“Of course not, sir,” she responded.

”Very well. Carry on, Professor Granger,” Albus said.

”Thank you, sir,” Hermione replied, then turned with a billow of robes, walked to the entrance and pulled the doors open with a flourish.

This was quite the visual, since most of the students were now inside. The doors flung open and Hermione stormed through them, her face twisted in anger and eyes narrowed. The students unfortunate enough to be sitting off the center aisle all reflexively leaned forward over the tables as if in fear they would accidentally come into contact with her, though there was at least five feet of space on either side of the snarky Potions mistress. The entire student body fell silent.

Ron looked up and paled as Hermione’s eyes seemed to fall on him. She walked forward.

‘Oh my gods. Granger’s coming for me,” Ron hissed, “What the hell did I do? I’m not even in any of her classes! I knew that blast of cold was an omen!”

Both Harry and Severus looked up and saw Professor Granger bearing down on them, her eyes glinting.

”I don’t think she’s coming for you, Ron,” Harry whispered. “She’s looking at Severus.”

Ron let out a relieved sigh as Severus just stared at the angry witch, his heart starting to pound as she stormed up.

She looked down at him imperiously for a moment. He blinked up at her. Hermione had to force herself not to think of him on top of her, shuddering and declaring his love. This situation had nothing to do with that one.

”Mr. Snape, after supper you are to report directly to my office. Am I understood?” she snarled at him.

Severus felt a bit of tightening in his loins as her amber eyes flashed at him dangerously.

“Yes, Professor,” he replied, his voice cracking a bit.

”Be prepared to stay a while,” she snapped, stalking away.

Ron watched her go as murmuring began in the Great Hall again, everyone discussing in muted tones just how long Severus was for the world. Ron turned to Severus.

”What did you do?” he asked the pale wizard, his blue eyes wide.

”I didn’t do anything,” Severus replied, looking up at the dais. Hermione glared back at him with malice.

”You must have done something,” Ron said, “She made one of her ‘Grand Entrances.’ That usually means at least a month’s worth of detentions,” the wizard said, staring at Severus as if he would never see him again.

“I’m telling you, Ron, I didn’t do anything. At least nothing I can think of,” Severus replied, returning to his meal.

”Maybe she found out something, Sev,” Harry suggested, “Have you been doing anything sneaky? That you can get in trouble for?”

Severus shook his head.

”No. I’ve conducted myself like a proper Gryffindor,” Severus replied, thinking the only thing he did do that might be considered untoward was shag his Potions mistress. But he couldn’t get in trouble for that. She was a willing, well maybe not so willing, participant.

“Well, she’s got something on you, believe that,” Harry said, looking up at the dais. Hermione curled her lip at him. “I don’t envy you a bit.”

”I hope you got that magical cup I suggested. If I were you, I’d be so scared, my nads would have shrunk to the size of peas,” Ron said, picking up a huge turkey leg.

”Shut up, Ron,” Severus snapped at him, trying to return to his meal, but not feeling hungry any longer.

What the hell had he done?

He looked toward the dais again, but Professor Granger was eating her meal now. A salad. Severus was familiar enough with the witch through pining for her and watching her every move to know that something was truly on her mind. She only ate salads when she was stressed. Otherwise she ate quite a bit of rare meat. Ron suspected she was a werewolf, though he had no proof of it except how often she snarled at her students.

Severus picked at his peas. Whatever he was in trouble for, he’d find out later.

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When Severus showed up at Hermione’s office after supper, the witch wasn’t there yet, so he loitered outside the door. Draco Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle sauntered by, smirking at him.

”What’d you do to Granger, Snape?” Draco purred at him, slowing. “She seemed really pissed off. Looks like somebody’s going to be losing a few points. What a shame. Slytherin and Gryffindor are neck and neck for the House Cup. Still, we appreciate your efforts for our cause.”

”Get out of here, Malfoy, before I give you another set of tits,” Severus snapped at him.

Severus had given Draco breasts earlier that year after he cast a Tripping spell on Harry when his back was turned. Harry had been heading down the main stairwell and could have been badly hurt if he hadn’t grabbed the railing in time. Severus hit Draco with the hex before he could react, large triple-D gazongas filling out his robes. It took hours for them to deflate.

Draco scowled as Crabbe and Goyle both stiffened. Severus readied himself.

”Three against one, eh?” Severus said through clenched teeth, his hand flexing as if he were a gunfighter. “I’ll get at least two of you.”

Draco, Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other doubtfully. They outnumbered Severus, but the Gryffindor was fast. Not only was he fast, but he used hexes no one had ever seen before. He had made Goyle’s toenails grow one day in the corridor, with very entertaining results. They were so thick that Madame Pomfrey had to clip them back with a pair of specialized toenail clippers made for trolls.

Still, they didn’t want to back down from a single Gryffindor. They stared at each other.

”Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Goyle and Mr. Crabbe, get to your house immediately!” Professor Granger hissed.

She had walked up on them while they were focused on each other. Severus relaxed.

”Yes, Professor,” Draco replied, giving Severus one more glare before he, Crabbe and Goyle continued down the hall. Severus watched them go, then turned to find the Potions mistress glaring at him in much the same way Draco did.

”What’s this about, Professor?” Severus asked her, his dark eyes hot.

Maybe she wanted another go with him.

Hermione noticed the look in his eyes and frowned at the boys’ nerve.

”I’ll ask the questions, Mr. Snape. Now follow me,” she said walking down the corridor.

Severus followed, his eyes resting on her hips as she walked ahead of him. He felt himself hardening a little. Hermione stopped in front of the Potions classroom, unlocked the door and turned to him just in time to see his eyes quickly flick upward. Had he been watching her ass? Dear gods.

“Just get in the classroom, Mr. Snape and take your seat up front,” she snapped at him.

Severus entered the classroom and did as she asked, looking up at her curiously as she billowed around the desk and stood in front of him. She reached into her pocket, pulled out his Advanced Potions book and slammed it down on the desk.

”What is this, Mr. Snape?” she demanded.

Severus looked at it calmly.

”My Advanced Potions book, Professor,” he responded.

Hermione flipped open the book and pointed at the name written there.

”I assume the ‘Half-Blood Prince’ is you, Mr. Snape. Quite the modest title,” she said sarcastically.

”Actually, I picked it because my mother’s maiden name is Prince and my father is a Muggle, Professor,” Severus said.

Hermione looked at him.

”Are you sure, that’s why you chose such a prominent-sounding pseudonym, Mr. Snape? Or is it because you believe you are above everyone else when it comes to following long established rules and instructions. A Prince can change the rules, can’t he, Mr. Snape?”

Severus blinked at her.

”If he has the authority, I suppose so,” he responded.

”Well, you do NOT have the authority, Mr Snape! I’ve looked through that book and read the changes you’ve made to instructions for some very dangerous and volatile brews, changes that can cost lives, Mr. Snape! Your life and the life of my students! It is an asinine, irresponsible and decidedly dangerous course you have taken, young man, one which will surely result in your expulsion from not only this class, but Hogwarts itself!” she snarled at him.

Severus looked at her calmly despite her declaration.

”Why would I be expelled if the changes work?” he asked her. “Why would you have me thrown out if I’ve improved the brewing process?”

”Improved? Why you arrogant little bastard. You actually believe you can improve on potions created by masters long before you were ever born?” she asked him in disbelief, “The delusions Gryffindors have concerning their own greatness is ludicrous.”

”I don’t believe it,” Severus said quietly, “I’ve done it.”

“If you have, you did it by risking the lives of everyone around you while you ‘experimented.’ That’s tantamount to casting a random Killing curse and hoping it doesn’t hit anyone,” she said to him. “Even if you have had some small success, the end result does not justify the means by which you accomplish it. You are out of here on your ear, Mr. Snape. I will not have such a reckless student at this school!”

Severus frowned back at her now.

“Do you think I’m stupid enough to test a theory in a class full of pupils, Professor?” he asked her, his eyes now full of disdain. “I experimented on my own time, in a safe area. Alone. The only one ever at risk was me. And I knew what I was doing. I only used my findings in class after they’ve been tested and retested. I am not an idiot, and I HAVE improved the brewing process of several potions. If you try to get me expelled for that, I will fight to stay here. I am at Hogwarts not only to learn but to improve. I am going to be a Potions master. The best there ever was.”

Severus didn’t make this declaration with overblown pride, but with quiet certainty. A very sincere certainty that Hermione couldn’t help but feel.

”You’ll fight me?” she asked him softly, her eyes glittering.

”Tooth and nail,” he replied, meeting her gaze evenly. “You’ll have to prove my annotations and changes are dangerous. You won’t be able to do that, Professor, because everything in there, works. Even the spells.”

“You are an arrogant little sod, aren’t you, Mr. Snape,” Granger hissed at him.

”No. I just know what I know,” he replied, his eyes hard as diamond.

Hermione had to admit she was a bit impressed at the boy’s confidence. He wasn’t the least bit cowed about what he’d done, and defended himself without hesitation. Most students would have been apologizing and pleading with her to give them another chance. But not this young wizard. He had conviction concerning his skills.

She hated to admit it to herself, but his confidence was quite attractive.

Hermione stared at him a moment, then picked up his book, leafing through it until she located a very difficult, complex potion to brew that he had scrawled all over.

The Draught of Living Death. It was next to impossible for a novice to brew correctly the first time, even with the proper instructions. She looked at Severus with narrowed eyes.

”Come to the lab, Mr. Snape. You have brewing to do. You’d better hope your high opinion of yourself and your abilities hold true, or you will be packing your bags tonight,” she hissed at him.

Severus looked at her, a cunning look washing over his face.

”What’s in it for me if I do brew it correctly with my improvements?” he asked her.

Hermione frowned at him.

”What the hell do you mean ‘what’s in it for you?’ You don’t get expelled you idiot!” she snapped at him.

Snape still sat there.

”I could refuse to brew and force you to bring me before the Board of Governors for expulsion, then I could show them my techniques work firsthand. That would make you look rather inept, Professor Granger. Maybe even . . . a bit jealous that a student was able to improve brews you could not,” he said in a low voice.

Hermione began to shake with rage. How dare he suggest such a thing?

”It’s not that I could not improve them. I found no reason to tamper with what was already perfection,” she snapped at him, itching to give him a blast from her wand.

”If the techniques were perfection, I couldn’t have improved them, could I?” he purred at the witch.

Hermione stared at him.

”You should have been in Slytherin house,” she said to the young man.

”I have just enough scruples to have been spared that,” Severus replied silkily, looking much older than he really was at this point. “If I have indeed improved the brewing process like I claim, Professor, your instruction over the years will be considered the reason for my skills. You will receive acclaim for teaching me in such a manner I was able to forge forward on my own. The student is only as good as the teacher after all. That would be quite the quill in your cap, not to mention it will probably result in a salary increase to insure such a wonderful instructor is not wooed away by another school. I will gladly give you all the credit for my abilities . . . if there is something in it for me.”

Hermione listened to him, a bit appreciative of his calculating nature. She had never realized Severus Snape had such a manipulative streak. It was very appealing.

”What would you want, Mr. Snape? Unlimited access to my stores? Perfect marks for the rest of the year?”

Severus shook his head.

”No. Nothing as complicated as that, Professor. If I prove that I have improved the brewing technique on whatever potion you choose from that book, then I only want one thing,” he said softly.

”What?” Hermione asked him impatiently. "What is it you want, Mr. Snape?"

”You.”

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