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 36 ~ Snape's Decision

The first day of class after any extended holiday was always the best vehicle for Snape's point-taking. The exuberance of the students had not yet died down and the Potions master took full advantage of it, albeit in a subdued manner. Students usually lost the most points in the first fifteen minutes, mostly for whispering to each other. He managed to wring thirty-five points from Gryffindor because of illicit communication and the lateness of three students, Neville being one of them. He had walked Luna to class and timed it badly.

He sat down next to Hermione, who shook her head slightly as Snape snapped up five points.

Add this indignity to the fact that Neville now knew Hermione liked the snarky wizard and the Gryffindor wasn't in the best of moods. Snape should be nice to him as well since he and Hermione were so close. Of course, later on after he calmed down, Neville would eventually figure out that Snape really didn't treat him too badly either, when he got right down to it.

To the class, Snape was in usual form, focused on reviewing as he usually did when they skived off a week or two.

"I am sure none of you spent your week with your noses in your Potions book, so open up to page five-hundred and seventeen and review it. You will have a quiz in . . . twenty minutes," he told them, returning to his desk. As the majority of the class groaned, Snape's dark eyes fell on Hermione, who was studiously reading. The wizard felt a little tightening of his belly.

He finally had resorted to wanking off last night, unable to calm his recurring erection any other way. He was reacting like a sixth year to the witch's admission. It was very disturbing. Snape always believed himself to be a highly disciplined man. After he brought himself to release, he retired, drinking a good amount of Dreamless draught to stave off any erotic dreams about Hermione that he was sure would come to haunt him.

He wanted a sustained, adult relationship with the witch, something based on more than physical attraction. He purposely focused on what she would be able to accomplish with his help, how fine her mind was and her potential for greatness. But last night made him realize how much she aroused him. Her innocence and honesty was like an aphrodisiac and he found himself more attracted to Hermione than ever.

And not for her mind. He was a bit concerned that he could inadvertently overstep his self-imposed boundaries if he were subjected to any more of her thoughts about them.

I don't want to stop dreaming about you, Professor. It's all I have for now.

Did the witch know how arousing those few words were to him? What they did to him . . . what they made him do in the privacy of his study?

No. She couldn't know. And it was better she didn't know. Hermione could be impulsive and he didn't want her to try and force contact between them. Snape didn't know if he could trust himself to stop if she stole even one kiss from him. Not knowing what he knew now. Uncertainty was the perfect reason for caution and restraint, but now . . . now he was certain how Hermione felt about him.

Certain she would willingly accept him.

It was heady. It was dangerous as well. They worked together closely, and were alone together for hours, undisturbed. Perhaps . . . perhaps he should release her from her detentions with him. It seemed the proper thing to do under the circumstances. It was better than losing his job . . . and there was a very real chance that could happen.

Cecila's book had indeed pegged Severus rightly in that his instinct for self-preservation would kick in if he were pushed too far by desire, but had also done so wrongly. This particular wizard didn't need to actually be immersed in the fire before he realized he could be burned. He wasn't an easy man to blindside.

In Hermione's case, he was already feeling the heat and it was making him sweat. So that self-saving instinct kicked in full force.

She had been successful, but a bit too successful, and now Snape was about to backpedal.

Hermione wouldn't be happy about this development at all.

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Hermione happily made her way down to the dungeon area, prepared to touch on how insignificant their age difference was considering how long they lived, and how he was actually quite a young wizard based on his age. How she was going to work it in was a bit of a challenge, but she'd watch for an opening.

When she entered the Potions classroom and walked back to the labs and pushed open the door, she didn't find anything set up at all. Hermione frowned at this, backed out of the lab and called for the professor.

Snape was in his office, not looking forward to telling Hermione her detention was over. He heard the witch and sighed.

"I'm in my office, Miss Granger," he called back.

He heard Hermione approaching and sighed again, steeling himself. The witch entered, stopping in front of his desk and looking bewildered.

"Professor, the lab isn't set up," she said to him.

Snape nodded.

"I know, Miss Granger. Please sit down," he told her softly.

Hermione had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach as she sat down in the chair. Snape had thoughtfully prepared it for her beforehand, strengthening it and adding a cushion. The wizard looked at her soberly. Well, it was best to be straightforward.

"Miss Granger, you will no longer be required to serve detention with me. You've adequately fulfilled your duties," he told the witch.

Hermione stared at him in disbelief.

"What? Professor, you still have a few hundred pounds of basilisk to render," she told him.

"Actually, I've lessened that amount considerably over the holidays, Miss Granger. I'll be able to finish the rest myself," he replied, watching as her face fell.

"But, but all the studying I did to improve my lab technique . . . I wanted to try out what I learned," Hermione said, trying to get him to reconsider.

"You'll have plenty of opportunities to try out your new techniques once you accept the apprenticeship. Until then, I have no need for your assistance," the dark wizard said.

Hermione began blinking, and her eyes filled with tears.

"Is it because of what I told you last night, Professor? Because if it is, I swear, I won't say anything else about it . . . anything at all," she said, her voice quavering. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I really didn't. I just . . . just wanted to let you know how I felt."

Snape felt a little ache in his chest at her plea. She hadn't done anything wrong, really. He just didn't want to be tempted to do something wrong himself.

"Hermione," he said gently, using her name. "You didn't do anything wrong. You simply told me how you felt and what you were going through. I appreciate that, I truly do. However, I think that working closely together as we do will only intensify an already volatile situation. We are here, alone, night after night. Now that I am aware of how you feel towards me, I think it best to keep our student/teacher relationship as structured as possible . . . so there are no . . . accidents."

"Accidents? What do you mean accidents?" Hermione asked him a bit angrily now.

Snape quailed a bit.

"Perhaps 'accident' was not the proper term," he said apologetically. "But the truth of the matter is, Hermione, that I cannot afford to have you in close proximity. It is too . . . too tempting to act on what I feel, what we both feel. I could lose my job."

"No. No you wouldn't. Even if something were to happen, no one but us would know," Hermione responded almost desperately.

"I would know," Snape said softly. "My purpose is to teach and protect you, Hermione, while you are a student here. I am trusted to act in your best interest and not to take advantage of you in any manner. I have always been an upstanding member of this staff and am unwilling to jeopardize my position. We are not equals, Hermione. I am in a position of power over you when you get right down to it. It would be a misuse of that power if I engaged you in any manner. And . . . and I am quite tempted to engage you. It became clear last night after you left me."

"But . . . I love working with you. I'm learning so much, and . . . and I enjoy being in your presence, Professor. Please don't do this!" Hermione implored him. "We don't have to do anything. I won't say anything else about us, our past . . . anything. Just let me keep working with you, Professor. Please."

"I can't do that in good conscience, Hermione. I'm very sorry," Snape said softly, watching as the tears began to fall. He quickly reached inside his robes pocket and removed a handkerchief, standing up and passing it to the witch.

Hermione sobbed as if her heart was breaking, and Snape felt awful. But he knew he was doing the right thing. The attraction between them was too strong and for the first time in his life, he didn't trust himself. Hermione would never turn him away if he made an advance. There were no constraints, nothing to mark the boundaries of propriety except his own discipline. Wanking off last night showed him that there was little of that when it came to Hermione Granger. It was painful for her now, but the pain would pass.

"This is for both of us, Hermione. Believe me when I say it pains me to see you so distressed. But boundaries must be maintained, no matter how unpleasant it is. Surely you can understand this," he told her gently.

"I don't want to understand it! It's not fair! All I did was tell you how I felt! Now, now you're punishing me for it. You're . . . you're so cruel!"

Snape watched as Hermione leapt out of her chair and ran out of his office, sobbing. He started to go after her, then decided it might be better to just let her go and cry herself out. Afterwards, she could think about the situation. She was a logical witch when her emotions weren't running away with her. She'd see reason.

At least, he hoped she would.

He could have just ruined everything.

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Hermione ran up the dungeon corridor, up the stairwell, into the Entrance Hall and then up the marble staircase. Her vision was blurry with tears, and she dabbed Snape's handkerchief to her eyes constantly to clear them. She ran by Filch, who didn't stop her because it wasn't yet nine o'clock so she wasn't out after curfew.

She rode the shifting stairwells up to the seventh floor and ran to Gryffindor tower. She managed to gulp the password at the Fat Lady, then entered the Common Room, her eyes red and swollen. Neville looked up from the chess game he was playing with Ron, saw her state and became instantly alarmed.

"Hermione?" he called to her.

She looked at him miserably, hesitated, then shot up the stairs to her room.

"Hermione!"

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Hermione ran into her bedroom, ripped open the drawer to her nightstand and took out the workbook.

"You were wrong!" she cried, throwing the book on the bed. "You were all wrong! You stupid, stupid book!"

The witch drew her wand and pointed it at the tome.

"Reducto!" she snarled, blasting it into shreds. She stared at the bits of parchment and leather, all that was left of her plans to get the wizard she desired. Now, he didn't want to be around her at all until school was out.

Bursting into tears again, Hermione flung herself into the bed and cried herself to sleep.

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A/N: Well, that didn't work out well, did it? In theory, everything seemed to be going as planned, but people can't all be bottlenecked into one category, and not every person reacts the same way. Perhaps, Cecila's book could be very effective much of the time, but not all of the time. Snape certainly didn't fit the mold it made for him. Ah well, Hermione, live and learn. She might have made out better if she just followed her own heart, rather than a book. Nothing in Life is ever clearly written, and it doesn't come with a how-to guide either. We all have to wing it. Thanks for reading.

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