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 46 ~ Back at Hogwarts

Hermione stretched, yawned and opened her eyes slowly. She felt rested and less achy as she rolled to her side, blinking. Then she sat straight up in the bed. Where was she?

She looked around as she pulled the scarlet and gold bedcovering from her body and slid to the edge of the queen-sized four-poster bed she found herself in. This wasn't the professor's quarters.

Then she realized that she was bathed and dressed in a long white nightgown. She stood up and lifted it, seeing she also wore clean knickers with a pad inserted neatly inside.

"Oh my gods," she breathed, blushing. "Did Professor Snape do this?"

She didn't know as she let the gown drop back. A pair of white slippers rested on the floor next to the bed and a white housecoat was draped over the chair. She slipped them on, then took in her surroundings. There was a Gryffindor standard hanging on the wall, a mirrored dresser, wardrobe, and nightstand. A plush rug lay on the cold stone floor and her wand lay on the nightstand.

She pulled open the dresser and wardrobe to find her things neatly folded and hung up. These must be her quarters. She didn't know she had her own quarters. She and the professor had never gone over the details, but it made sense. There had to be some privacy. But a little part of her was disappointed. She had hoped that her accommodations would include access to the professor's bedroom.

Still, that could be arranged.

Hermione noticed the bathroom and inspected it. A sunken tub, a separate shower and twin basins graced the tiled room. She opened the cabinet under the sink and saw a neatly stacked pile of sanitary napkins and several boxes of tampons.

Well, she wouldn't run out of those any time soon. There were also stacks of towel and wash cloths in a towel cabinet, fluffy, white and inviting. She used the loo, changed her pad, then ventured out of the bedroom and walked up and down a short hall, looking into the other rooms.

"A lab," she breathed as she turned right. It had some equipment, counters and a desk. A blackboard hung on the wall.

She never imagined she'd have her own lab. She walked back up the hall and found the study, the bookshelves already holding a few of her books. The shelves were sadly empty, especially compared to Snape's collection. But, she imagined she'd fill them in over the next four years. There was a fireplace, comfy armchair, a recliner and a large writing desk, complete with parchments, quills and ink neatly arranged.

She walked further down the hall and found a brightly painted kitchen with utensils, a stove, a cooler, ample cabinet space and a table that seated four. There was a little foyer that led in the direction of the dungeon corridor. Wow, a private entrance. Then she noticed an open doorway. Beyond it was flickering firelight. She walked to it and realized it opened on professor Snape's study.

She walked in and saw the wizard standing in front of his fireplace, a glass of amber liquid in his pale hand. He was motionless, his back to her, still dressed in the black robes he wore to the Meeting of the Master. The wizard was staring into the flames as if they held answers to questions not yet formed, but close beneath the surface.

Suddenly he spoke.

"You're awake," he said softly.

"Yes," Hermione replied, not moving yet. "What time is it now?"

"After seven in the evening. You were very tired," the wizard responded, still facing the flames.

Hermione approached him now, walking around an armchair and looking up at his profile, and the firelight that flickered over his face.

"I've been bathed and dressed," she said to him softly.

He nodded.

"Yes. I thought that would help you sleep more comfortably," he replied.

Flushing, Hermione asked, "Did . . . did you do this? Bathe me and dress me?"

Now Snape looked at her.

"No. I had several female house elves attend you," he told her, finishing his Firewhiskey and setting the empty glass down on the small table between the armchairs.

"Let me order you a meal. You must be famished. Sit down," he instructed her.

Hermione did as he asked and watched as he used the fireplace to place an order to the kitchen. He ordered tomato soup, a salad and a rare, hot roast beef sandwich for her, on sour dough bread, topped with lettuce, tomato and mustard. He also asked for pomegranate juice rather than pumpkin.

A few minutes later, two house elves appeared with her food. The wizard took the soup and salad, and Hermione took the sandwich and juice and they returned to her quarters, the wizard placing her meal on the kitchen table and pulling out the chair for her. Hermione placed the juice and sandwich on the table as he retrieved a spoon for her soup, then sat down across from her to watch her eat, a thoughtful look on his face as she started with the soup.

He let her eat for a few minutes, Hermione feeling a bit self-conscious under his quiet gaze. When she finished the soup, the Potions master spoke.

"Do you like your accommodations?" he asked the witch.

"Oh yes! They're wonderful. I didn't expect all this," she replied. "Actually, I didn't know what to expect. I thought I might have a small room off your study."

Snape smirked slightly.

"If you were a male apprentice, that is exactly what you would have had, and very sparsely furnished," he responded. "But I believed you needed accommodations that would allow you to have some independence and privacy. Besides, I don't think your parents would have appreciated the other arrangements. Particularly your father."

Hermione snorted.

"You've got that right. He would have had bugbears. So, they saw my quarters before I did?" she asked him.

Snape nodded.

"And they also saw the basilisk head," the wizard informed her.

Hermione went pale.

"You showed them the basilisk head? Why?" Hermione wanted to know, imagining what their response would have been to seeing the head of a deadly mythical creature.

"It was a very effective way of proving to them that you were capable of holding your own. If you could kill a basilisk, then you'd have no problem fending anything or anyone else off . . . in this case, that anyone being me," he said softly.

Hermione scowled.

"I'd never have to fend you off," she said, a bit of frustration in her voice at the truth of that statement. She wouldn't mind him crowding her a bit. Actually, he could crowd her all he wanted. She viciously stabbed her salad to release a little of that frustration, the cherry tomato she speared bleeding profusely. She looked at it, satisfied, before popping it into her mouth.

That little vicious stab hadn't gone unnoticed by the Potions master.

"Yes, but I know the possibility was running through your father's mind. I think the basilisk was quite reassuring, after they got over the shock," he told her.

Hermione shook her head, not sure she agreed with the professor's methods, but acknowledging they were effective if nothing else.

She took another bite of her sandwich, aware that there was a rather pregnant pause in the air as the wizard looked at her. He had something important to say. She could feel it.

Snape cleared his throat a bit. He seemed rather nervous, which wasn't usual at all.

"Hermione, now that you are officially my apprentice and situated in your rooms and ready to start your education proper, I feel there are some things I need to say to you, and some things I need to reveal concerning my conversation with your father," he said, folding his hands on the table.

"What things?" she asked him, taking a sip of the dark, rich pomegranate juice.

"I will start with your father first. The night we talked, he expressed some concerns, some very valid concerns about you and your attraction to me," Snape said. "He was relatively understanding about it, due to his own experiences with your mother. But there was an aspect that their relationship had, that any ensuing relationship between us, won't. And that is, experience. Your experience."

Hermione's brow furrowed.

"Do you mean sexual experience? I'll get better at that," she said, making the wizard shift in his chair a bit uncomfortably. She just jumped right in, didn't she?

"Ah, no. That isn't the type of experience I am referring to. The fact is, Hermione, you have never dated. You have never been with anyone your own age in a romantic manner. You haven't been socially active, and that . . . that could be a problem later on," the wizard said delicately. "I am older, more established and reserved than the young men you would normally be involved with. There are things you will miss if you pursue a relationship with me, things that . . . that could be deemed important to a young woman's development. Such as going out to clubs, or exciting parties . . . maybe raves. Nights on the town, things of that nature. Also, you've never loved and lost, or known the heartache of young love. There are so many factors to consider here . . ."

Hermione put down her sandwich.

"Are you trying to back out on me?" she asked the wizard pointedly, frowning at him.

Snape's eyes widened.

"Why, no, Hermione . . . I'm just telling you . . ."

"Nothing!" she spat at him. "Severus, I've NEVER been a party animal or a clubber. Even when impromptu parties were held here at the school I didn't attend them unless they were mandatory. I'd rather study or read. It's always been that way for me. And I didn't date because I wasn't on the same page as the rest of the school. At least, where wizards were concerned. I like conversation. Intelligent, challenging conversation. No one could give me that, not my own age. They don't find knowledge fascinating like I do, and they didn't have anything to tell me I probably didn't already know."

Snape stared at her for a moment, then tried to interject his own thoughts, but Hermione was on the soapbox now.

"Professor, I'm not attracted to you just because of our past. I've had a crush on you for at least two years. You're a brilliant wizard and . . . and there are aspects of you I find incredibly sexy. I love that you are mature and experienced. That means I probably won't have to go through the idiotic scenarios younger, less stable wizards would put me through. I love that you are reserved and disciplined . . . because . . . because it makes me feel special that you feel as you do towards me, and makes me want to see that part of you fall for me, that guard come down. You have no idea how much I want that, want you . . ."

Snape sighed inwardly. She was doing it again, fanning that flame inside him with her words, her desire

"You are going to teach me so much, Severus," she said to him softly. "I'm going to be part of your world and you're going to be part of mine. We've waded through an ocean of time to come to this point, and I'm not about to let my dad's misgivings keep me from what I want the most in this world, you. I think you've been waiting for me . . . ever since I walked through the doors of Hogwarts and you realized I truly did exist. No, I know you've been waiting for me, otherwise when I arrived in Harry's room that day, you wouldn't have been there. You marked the day in your mind and in your heart so you could protect me if I needed it. And I did. You nearly died for me, Professor, fighting a basilisk with only a sword and being bitten in the process. Most wizards would have simply tried firing spells, not jump in the way you did. And you think I'm going to give you up just because I want to go to a bloody party?"

Hermione suddenly rose from the table and walked around it, stopping next to the professor who looked up at her, his heart full from her passionate words.

"Not in this timeline, or any other," she said softly, leaning down and kissing him squarely on the lips, savoring their softness as he helplessly let her snog him, her kiss sweeter than the sweetest honey.

Hermione drew back, her eyes moist and hot as she looked at the Potions master's subtly contorted face as he attempted to hide his desire.

"Damn," she said wistfully, "I wish Aunt Flow found someone else to visit today."

Although he didn't say it out loud, Snape dearly wished the same thing as Hermione pushed the table back, settled in his lap and kissed him again.

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A/N: Had a day off from writing yesterday, so got up early and wrote this out. Thanks for reading. ***

PLEASE REVIEW "A Turn for the Better"  >>>> NEXT CHAPTER

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