Fanfic!!

[dream_labyrinth]

I woke up this morning with this little ficlet spooking around my mind, so I though I'd write it down and post it here.
A little HG/SS story, yet untitled.
Put behind cut to spare your friends pages.


He sat down on a chair and frowned at the heaps of unread letters on the small table.
This was not at all like her. She had always answered any letter that had been sent to her.
He looked around. The room was small, but comfortable. There was a bed in the corner next to the door, a desk by the window, bookshelves along the walls, framing a second door.
There was the sound of footsteps from the main door and he turned back. Her reaction was going to be interesting.

At first, he was dissapointed. She walked in reading a book and didn't even see him.
But then she looked up.

Crying in surprise, she dropped the book, staring at him.
Slightly amused, he looked her up and down. It had been a while since he had last seen her. For some reason she was wearing Muggle clothing, jeans and a T-shirt. He had to admit that there was some good to those. Hiding her legs underneath the robes would have been a waste.

His eyes turned back to her face and he frowned, the smile leaving his face.
She looked tired, exhausted. As if she hadn't slept in quite some time.
When she spoke, even her voice sounded tired. "What are you doing here?"
He waved towards the heaps of sealed envelopes on the table. "You didn't answer my letter. And I couldn't contact you by floo."
She shrugged her shoulders. "I've stopped reading the letters. And disconnected from the floo network. People who really want to talk to me need to contact my parents."

A loud noise from outside made her turn around. While she was gone, he picked up one of the letters and opened it. It was a single sheet of parchment. What do you think you are, Mudblood? If you don't stop writing that crap, we'll make you! There was more in the same tone, but he didn't feel like reading it.

"Do you always read letters that aren't addressed to you?" she asked from the door.
He looked up. "Are they all like this?"
"I don't read them anymore. I got tired of it when it started to be more than a hundred a day." Her voice was calm, betraying no anger, not any emotion.
"But why? You are one of the best researchers of potions, and..."
She laughed dryly. "These people aren't upset about my potions research, Professor! It's the novels they don't approve of."

He sank back in his chair. He had of course read all of her novels. She wrote historical novels, but put in enough reference to today to make it a very interesting read. In her last novel about the wars against the giants, he had found some hits against the Ministry and against the treatment of giants today that had amused him. Apparently, not all people had found it amusing.

Smoke coming from her hand turned his attention to a small parcel she was carrying. She dropped it and performed a quick spell to stop the burning on her hand and on the parcel, then walked over to her desk and applied some potion to the burns. It healed quickly.
All the time she didn't curse or did anything to express feelings. He couldn't believe that this was the same person who could cry over an only average result in an exam, laugh heartily at a silly joke from a friend, get angry at him for a single remark.

She turned back to face him. "Get one of these almost daily." she said with a gesture towards the blackened package on the floor. "Fortunately, none of the people has tried apparating in my room yet. Which brings us back to you."
He stared. This was so unlikely the Hermione he remembered.
He cleared his throat. "Why don't you ward your room? It was easy enough to get in."
She went over to her desk, sat down on the chair and started playing with a quill. "It is warded. But I'm not very good in that. I think it keeps some of my dear readers out, but apparently not all of them.
When did she start being sarcastic? She never had been sarcastic in his classroom.

She stifled a yawn behind her hand.
"When did you last sleep?" he asked.
She waved the question off like some nasty insect. "What are you doing here?"
He rummaged through the heap of letters, but couldn't find the one he sent. "I wanted your help with some potion I'm trying to make."
"I'm not a potions master," she said cooly, but he saw a hint of the old sparkle in her eyes.
"Maybe not, but besides me, you are one of the people who know most about potions. And you know how I work." This time he was sure to see a smile in her eyes.
"Well, I suppose I could do that."

Again she yawned.
"Not if you don't sleep. I can't have an assistant who falls asleep and falls into the cauldron." He grinned a little.
She stared. "Was that a joke?"
"No. I mean it. If you don't get some sleep first, you can't help me."
"But..." she twirled the quill in her hand, twisted it, until it broke. She dropped the pieces and blushed. "But I can't sleep."
"So? Why not?"
She waved towards the letters and the parcel on the floor. "You have gotten in here. You don't know whether any of these people will, too. And I don't want to be sleeping when they come." He could hear the fear in her voice.
"But you said you warded the apartment."
She shook her head. "Not strong enough."
"Why don't you hide it? Or put a Fidelius charm on it?"
She laughed. "And who would be my secret keeper? The Hogwarts staff has enough to worry about, and my parents are the only people I trust besides them, and they are Muggles."

"How about I stay here?" he asked.
She opened her mouth as is she wanted to say something, closed it, opened it again, closed it. She swallowed.
"Professor, that would be too much..."
He interrupted her stuttering. "No it wouldn't. I need an assistant and you are the best I could get. And I wish you wouldn't call me 'Professor'."
She bit her lip. But Mr...Snape..." She stopped. That sounded strange.
He sighed. "I have a first name, you know."
She stared down on the carpet. "Severus. Why would you do that?"
"Stay here, you mean?"
She nodded.
"Apparently, I cannot convince you to go to sleep otherwise. And I need you to get some sleep. My motives are purely egoistic, I assure you."
Taking a deep breath, she got up. "OK. I'll do it."
"Fine." He leaned back on his chair and watched her get her pyjamas, then vanish through the door that seemed to lead to the bathroom.

He heard the sound of running water and looked around a little. On a shelf behind the desk were some pictures in heavy silver frames. Her parents, Ron and Harry. Another was mostly hidden behind these. He walked over and pulled it out.

He gaped. It was a picture of himself! A simple photograph, the one that was used in most potions journals whenever he published an article. He saw himself glare up at him. Clearly he didn't like his picture taken. But she had cut it out and put it in a frame and set it up next to her family and friends!

Noises from the bathroom told him she would come back soon, and quickly he went back to his chair, sitting down comfortably and occupying his fingers by opening some of the letters. They were full of insults, written on cheap parchment in bad grammar, but he wasn't actually reading them. His thoughts circled around that picture, and about the young woman in the other room.
He dropped the letter he had in his hands and looked over to the bed. She would lie there, and he would sit next to her and make sure nobody disturbed her sleep.

She came back in and woke him from his reverie.
Without looking at him, she walked by him and slipped under the cover of her bed, pulling the sheets up to her nose. "OK. I'll sleep now. You stay there."

She closed her eyes.
Opened them again.
Turned around, turned back, moved a little to one side, then to the other, closed her eyes again, opened them.

"I can't sleep!" she announced frustrated.
He watched her intently. "But you are tired."
"But you are making me nervous."
"But I didn't even look at you.
"But you are here."

He rummaged through his pockets and found a tiny vial.
"Would you accept a sleeping draught from me?" he asked.
She hesitated, then nodded.

He went over and kneeled down beside the bed. She tried to take the vial from him,but he didn't let her. Slowly he put it up to her lips and poured the contents into her mouth. She swallowed, and smiled as the potion started working.

She closed her eyes and pulled the blanket closer around her. "Tastes sweet." she muttered, drifting off to sleep.

Carefully he bent over her, bringing his lips down to hers, kissing away a drop of the draught.
"So do you."