The Burning Pen

A Turn for the Better
by Ruth Solomon

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.

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 26 ~ Snape's Christmas Gift

When Hermione finished up her work the night before the Christmas ball, and changed back into her everyday robes, Snape presented her with an envelope. It was Slytherin green and trimmed in silver. Hermione accepted it, turning it over curiously in her hands. The back of the envelope was sealed, with the initials "SS" decoratively pressed into silver wax.

"What is this, professor?" Hermione asked him.

"A simple token for the season," Snape said dismissively, although he sincerely hoped she liked his gift. After much thought, he decided it was the best present he could give her.

"A present? Oh, Professor Snape! Thank you," she said to him with a smile, irreverently ripping it open, ignoring the seal, leaving it whole.

"Your letter-opening skills leave something to be desired," the wizard said to her, but Hermione completely ignored him as she pulled out the parchment inside.

She read it and her eyes went wide.

"It's a gift certificate for . . . for . . . Cedric's Shop of Tantalizing Tomes?"

Hermione's brow wrinkled and she looked up at Snape.

"Tantalizing Tomes? Where is this?" Hermione asked him.

It is a small bookshop in Knockturn Alley. It carries titles not readily available in establishments such as Flourish and Blotts. It is where I purchase many of my own books," he said to her.

"I've never heard of it," Hermione said, staring at the certificate. Then her eyes widened. The cash value of the certificate was quite high. Too high.

"Professor, I can't possibly accept a gift this expensive from you!" she exclaimed.

Snape frowned at her.

"Miss Granger, if you are to purchase any books from Cedric's shop, then I assure you that you will need every sickle of that money. The books in that shop are quite pricey."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Professor Snape cut her off.

"Before you launch into a tirade about this, let me inform you that as your master, I will have to provide your reading material as well, and it will NOT be coming from the corner bookstore. Knowledge has its price, Miss Granger. Hopefully, the books you purchase will offset some of my other expenses. You need to come to terms about my support of you as my apprentice. This is the perfect practice. Now, I will hear no more of your complaints. You will take that certificate and spend every knut. Every sickle you fall under the full amount is a loss that goes straight to Cedric's pocket," the wizard said snarkily.

He hated wasting money of any amount.

Hermione looked down at the certificate again, biting her lip slightly, Snape eyes resting on her.

"Well, it is bad form to refuse a gift," Hermione said slowly.

"Indeed it is, Miss Granger," Snape agreed.

"So, I accept your gift, Professor, but the only thing is . . . I've never been to Knockturn Alley. I've always been told it's a place . . . a place to avoid. There are robberies, kidnappings, hexings . . ." she said hesitantly.

Snape nodded. It was true. Knockturn Alley was full of dark witches and wizards waiting for a chance to prey on the innocent and foolish. Which was another reason why he gave her the certificate. She couldn't go there alone and no reputable witch or wizard would willingly accompany her. Even been seen in Knockturn alley could sully a wizard's name.

Except when the wizard was a Potions master. There were a number of apothecary shops in Knockturn Alley that carried rare and oft illegal ingredients for brewing, although they always had to be checked for authenticity before being purchased. In fact, Snape had arranged to sell a bit of his basilisk to several of the dark shopkeepers, and of course, at a good profit . . . because it was all profit.

Hermione didn't realize it, but by killing that basilisk, she had insured that she would have the very best of instruction under Professor Snape. He intended to use most of the money the creature brought on her education. She would have the best of everything.

He planned to be strict, but very generous.

"Yes, Knockturn Alley is a very dangerous area, particularly for a witch of your age and upbringing. This is why I will be accompanying you when you go to pick out your tomes over the holiday. You will send me an owl and I will come to your home and retrieve you," the Potions master said.

"My . . . my home?" Hermione said, her heart thudding a bit.

"Yes. You do have a home, don't you, Miss Granger? Or do you have a nest . . . or roost?" he inquired a bit glibly.

"Oh. I have a home. I live with my mother and father. They're dentists," she informed him unnecessarily.

"How nice for them. You will leave me your address and send me an owl when you are ready to go," the dark wizard said.

Hermione could do nothing but nod weakly.

She was a bit nervous about this, because she hadn't yet told her mother and father that she was going to accept Professor Snape's offer of apprenticeship. The thing was, apprentices lived with their masters so as to be available whenever needed. She wasn't sure how her father would react to her living with an older man, unsupervised, but she had a feeling he wouldn't be tossing confetti. She had planned to tell them over the holiday, singing the professor's praises, then giving them a few months to get used to the idea.

But if Professor Snape showed up at her house before they got a chance to get accustomed to the idea, it couldn't turn out too well. Although Professor Snape was nowhere as dour and frightening as he was in the other timeline, he still gave off a rather sinister vibe to those not used to his presence. She knew her father would dislike him on sight, his dislike increased by the thought of him being alone with his only daughter.

Hermione was of age, but let's face it. She'd always be daddy's little girl.

But . . . but on the other hand, she would be out with the professor, beyond the confines of Hogwarts. Maybe, maybe they'd even spend the entire day together. Yes, she'd still be his student, but it would be so easy to see it as something more than him simply standing guard over her . . . to pretend he was with her because he cared about her.

"All right. I'll send you an owl, Professor, but . . . but couldn't I meet you at the gates rather than my home?" she asked him.

"Is there some problem with me coming to your home, Miss Granger?" he asked her.

Hermione colored, then thought honesty would be the best policy.

"Well, I haven't told my parents yet about the possible apprenticeship, Professor. I wanted to prepare them first before . . . before they meet you. My father . . . he's a bit protective and I don't think he'd receive you too graciously on short notice. He's likely to think . . . to think you have designs on me, ridiculous as that sounds," she said in a small voice.

Snape studied her. Obviously, Hermione's father was quite a perceptive man. He wisely didn't confirm the witch's thought of how ridiculous the idea of him having designs on her was, simply because he did have designs on her.

"Very will, Miss Granger, I will meet you outside the gates of Hogwarts at the proper time, but, I do have to meet your parents before you sign on with me. It is . . . tradition," the wizard said, "Just as you will have to meet my peers before we begin our association."

"Meet your peers? What peers, Professor?"

Hermione had never heard of this. She thought she would simply accept his apprenticeship and get right to work.

Snape sighed.

"Potions masters gather once each year to 'introduce' their new apprentices to other masters in the field, sharing their qualifications and accomplishments to date. My appearance at this gathering will be a first," he said, a rather unpleasant look on his face. "They haven't seen me since I was accepted into the field."

Snape hesitated. His acceptance into the group of masters had been quite an ordeal. You see, he had never been apprenticed to any master, but appeared under his own steam to claim a place among them. It had been quite a trial, but Snape knew they had to at least test him.

The wily young wizard had turned the tables and tested them instead, and as a result, was grudgingly admitted to their ranks. Now, he was about to ruffle their collective feathers again.

"It is more of a boasting match than anything else, each master building up their choice so as to seem as if to have found the best student to pass their knowledge on to. I would rather skip it, but again . . . it is tradition."

Hermione blinked at him. She was to be put on display? Dear gods.

"Have no fear, Miss Granger. You are more than suitable. Put it out of your mind for now. You won't be presented until after you graduate and I assure you, you will be accepted," he assured her.

There would be a bit of consternation, and maybe even a few verbal protests, but Snape knew his rights as a Potions master in good standing. His plans wouldn't be thwarted.

Hermione felt a little light-headed. First Snape would be accompanying her to Knockturn Alley, then later, he would be taking her to a gathering of other Potions masters to present her to the world. It was almost too much to take in.

"Are you all right, Miss Granger?" Snape asked her suddenly, not liking the look in her eyes.

"I'm . . . I'm fine, sir," she said tightly, "although I think I'd like to sit down."

Snape quickly retrieved a chair and helped the witch sit down, then retrieved a glass of water and gave it to her, concern on his pale face as she drank a bit of it. He took it back and set in on the counter.

Hermione took a moment to recover.

"You're going to have to toughen up, Miss Granger," Snape said to her softly. "You are moving into the adult world now. You have to be adaptable if you want to succeed."

"Yes sir," Hermione said rather weakly.

Snape thought a change of conversation was in order.

"I imagine you are ready for the Christmas ball tomorrow," he said to the witch, pulling up a stool and sitting on it.

"Ah, no. I won't be going. I'm going home tomorrow," the witch replied, looking down at her hands.

Going home? Snape had been looking forward to seeing her decked out and enjoying herself.

"You aren't going to attend the last Christmas dance at Hogwarts? Why? It is considered a very special occasion, one to be remembered for years," he said to her softly.

"I don't want to go alone. No one has asked me, and Neville is going with Luna. I just don't want to sit there alone while everyone else is enjoying themselves," she said a bit sadly.

Snape's hard heart went out to her. It was quite a sad situation for a young witch. Hermione's dedication and focus on learning had a very dismal effect on her social life. It was a shame she was ostracized for her choices. But then again, he knew precisely what it was like. He, too, went to the Christmas ball without a date. He had no choice but to be there, because he was Head Boy. If he had been given a choice, he most likely would have stayed in Slytherin house or gone home to his empty home at Spinner's End.

"I understand completely how you feel, Miss Granger. If it is any consolation, I was also alone at the Christmas dance. I had to be there, and fervently wished I wasn't."

He had been forced to watch James and Lily dancing and snogging the entire night, the hatred in his heart like boiling black bile as James looked at him with a nasty grin while he danced with Lily, holding her close. He knew Snape had been sweet on her, and knew that he had successfully stolen her away. Despite Snape being over him as Head Boy, the Gryffindor still had something that he could never touch. Something that was beyond him.

Lily.

And he flaunted that fact in his face the entire night, especially letting Snape see him taking her out into the gardens. The gardens were where students crept away to when they wanted private time . . . or better known as 'shagging time.'

It had been maddening and terrible for the young wizard, his rage almost palpable as he made his plans for Tom Riddle's ascension to power, and the death of James Potter.

A death Hermione had thwarted.

Hermione blinked at him, and realized sharing this sense of being an outcast with the dark wizard did indeed make her feel as if she could get through it.

"There will be other events and occasions, maybe even more meaningful, Miss Granger. Of that, you can be sure," he said, and she gave him a small, grateful smile.

"Thank you, Professor," she said rising.

Snape was sitting on the stool and now Hermione was the same height as he was. She looked at him, her eyes softening. Before the wizard could react, Hermione kissed him softly on one pale cheek.

"Thank you for the gift . . . for everything," she said softly, then departed his lab.

The wizard sat there for a moment, then brought his hand to the cheek her lips had grazed.

He could still feel them.

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A/N: Just a bit of development and bonding. Thanks for reading.

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