Chapter 13
"Your curse is a gift?" repeated Professor Snape after I'd explained everything the faeries had told me.
I nodded.
Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. "Interesting gift," he commented dryly.
The air between us was- cold. Professor Snape continued to remain very curt around me, ignoring me in class and even leaving the room when I brewed for him. But when we were working on my curse, there was no avoiding possible. Which just made everything even more awkward.
I shrugged and sighed. "I guess that means that there's no cure," I mumbled.
"And what led you to that assumption?"
"Because all ingredients of my theoretical cures are based on the fact that this is a curse," I explained. "But since it's not, none of my ideas will work. And I've never heard of anyone trying to find a cure against a gift, have you?"
Professor Snape lazily crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back against the edge of his desk. I tried not to notice his biceps beneath his white shirt, which were kind of hard to ignore.
"You never struck me as the type to give up, Granger," he said.
"I'm not giving up!" I said, "I just don't see the point in trying to find something that doesn't exist."
"That is why we're Potioneers," spoke Professor Snape clearly, "What we cannot find, we create."
I leaned against one of the students' desks and groaned in frustration. "But how I am supposed to continue my apprenticeship if I spend all of my time working on this?"
Professor Snape uncrossed his arms and grabbed a book. "We will continue as before," he said tersely, "I will give you additional classes in brewing complex potions and we will come up with the basis of your cure in the remaining time. Once you have graduated, you will have more time on your hands, although you are certainly aware-," he shot me a warning look, "-that this apprenticeship is very time consuming."
I nodded.
"And as we discussed before, you will present your work on your cure as your individual project, which will have to be submitted by the end of the last year."
"Is that enough time?" I asked worriedly, "I mean, it's not the easiest task I picked and I don't know if a few years will be enough."
"Then I suggest you get started," said Professor Snape icily and looked at the clock, "You have a few hours before dinner."
He swept out of the room before I could reply.
I bit my lip, swallowing a sigh. I felt miserable and even though I knew feeling sorry for myself was not useful at all, I was finding it very hard to stay positive. Because now, I had to start all over again. It didn't occur to me right away that what the faeries had said meant I had chosen the wrong approach for my potion. In conclusion, I'd continued going into the wrong direction for longer than necessary.
And I chastised myself for not telling Professor Snape earlier. Perhaps he could have pointed that out. But he avoided me like the plague, so- okay, it was still my own fault.
I took a seat at a table, pulled put the book I'd gotten from Professor Snape for Christmas and began reading.
****
Progress was slow. Summer arrived faster than expected. The few moments that I had outside of the lab I spent with my friends, although it still grossed me out seeing Lavender and Ron slobber all over each other. Harry and Ginny were more discreet, although only an idiot could miss the connection between them.
Which left me sometimes feeling a little jealous because they had something I never would. And if Professor Snape continued to be the iceberg he was, I would be a hundred years old by the time he'd thawed.
The NEWTs approached as well and in short, it was hell studying for them as well as keeping my apprenticeship. One afternoon, I fell asleep in the library and woke when someone tapped me on the shoulder.
"Five more minutes," I mumbled tiredly.
"I doubt Madam Pince will let you use that book as a pillow," a velvety voice met my ear.
Despite my instant shock, my eyes opened only very slowly because they felt like broken shutters that wouldn't go up. I found Professor Snape standing beside me, his face as blank as ever.
"Oh bollocks," I mumbled and straightened up. My neck cracked loudly. "What time is it?"
"Shortly past eight," came the cold reply. "You'll be missing the moonrise if you keep sleeping."
Oh great. Now I'll hear a speech about being reckless.
Yet to my surprise, Professor Snape remained silent as I gathered my things. When I turned to him, he growled, "I will walk you to your common room, to avoid any...detours."
Right. We still didn't know who the person was who'd planned my kidnapping.
I stuffed the books into my bag and followed him out of the library. The corridors were beginning to darken. The way to my dorm passed in silence and once we'd arrived at the Fat Lady, Professor Snape disappeared into the shadows.
****
During exam phase, Hogwarts turned into a hotspot for illegal cheating products and panic attacks. The younger students kept searching for help among the older students, but they were busy with their OWLs and NEWTs. The only way for me to study peacefully was when I was in Professor Snape's classroom, away from Harry and Ron, and anyone else who needed to know what had happened in 1874 with the giant clans. Who would voluntarily go into the Potions Master's classroom anyway?
Except me, of course.
Since Professor Snape still avoided me as much as possible, I had his classroom all to myself. Sometimes, I could hear him working on his Cruciatus cure in his private lab, but the door never opened.
It wasn't until the stress of the NEWTs had finally passed, that I decided to speak to him again.
So, one sunny afternoon, when everyone was enjoying the summer outside, I went to Professor Snape's office and gave his door a sharp knock.
"Sod off, Minerva!" came the sharp reply.
I furrowed my eyebrows and knocked again.
A chair was pushed back, then I heard footsteps nearing the door.
"Did you not hear me-," snapped Professor Snape and yanked the door open. He stilled when his eyes fell on me.
"Professor Snape," I said politely, "could I speak with you for a minute?"
Black eyes narrowed. He whirled around sharply, leaving the door open as he strode back to his desk. I took that as a 'yes' and followed, closing the door behind me.
"Make it quick," said Professor Snape through clenched teeth. He turned around and leaned with his hip against his desk, crossing his arms.
I took a deep breath to steady myself.
"You're avoiding me, sir," I said and forced myself to meet his steely gaze. "And I know it's because you want to keep your vampiric side under control, but perhaps we could work something out."
Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. "Such as?" he said icily. "Do you want me to hold my breath every time you're near? Perhaps wear a clip over my nose for extra precaution? Or will you bathe in that revolting perfume Miss Brown seems so fond of wearing, to hide your scent?"
"No," I said slowly, firmly keeping my voice steady. I did not have to be afraid of him. He was the one person I would trust with my life, even if sometimes his eyes could almost kill. Such as now.
"I actually had a different idea."
I folded my hands behind my back. "Maybe you should- drink my blood."
Professor Snape's mask slipped for a mere second. "Are you out of your mind?" he snapped, raising his voice in anger. "Do you know what I could do to you if I were to taste your blood? I would not rest until not a single drop was left in your body!"
"Or," I said firmly, "the opposite would happen. I've read about events when a vampire would leave his victim alone because he'd gotten what he wanted. This could be the same case."
"Such documented 'events' are just invented stories," snarled Professor Snape.
"But stories always have a true core," I objected and stepped closer. "Sir, to be frank, I'm tired of this. My apprenticeship will continue for a while and if we keep avoiding each other, then I might as well quit now. I can't learn from you if you keep running away."
"I am not running away," hissed Professor Snape. His knuckles turned white when he gripped the edge of his desk. "I am trying to keep you safe, you stupid girl!"
"Then let's just try it!" I said exasperated and threw my hands into the air. "Or do you have a better idea, sir?"
Professor Snape pressed his lips together into a thin line.
"You don't know what you're asking of me," he said tensely, "I haven't had human blood to drink in- a long time."
"Your control might be better than you think," I said, "you spend your entire time with humans and never lost control before."
Professor Snape shot me a sharp look.
"Before me," I corrected myself.
Silence filled the office. The wizard continued to stare at me with narrowed eyes, thinking. Finally, he spoke.
"It won't work if I drink your blood from a phial," he said quietly. The anger in his eyes faded, replaced by a heavy seriousness.
I swallowed thickly when I understood. He'd have to bite me.
"Okay then," I said, sounding more confident then I felt. I took another step forward. "Do you have any vulnerable body parts that I can hit in case you lose control?"
Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you do not need me to answer that."
My cheeks reddened.
The dark wizard pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Are you sure, Granger?" he said slowly and looked at me. "Because I cannot guarantee this will work."
"We won't know unless we try," I replied.
Professor Snape flicked his hand and the closed door to the hallway locked itself. "This is insane," he muttered. After taking a deep breath, he straightened up and took a step toward me, then another, until he stopped right in front of me. I remained very still, fighting to keep my breathing calm as I stared at his chest.
One arm snaked around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I swallowed when I was pressed against his firm chest and focused on the wall behind him. Professor Snape's other hand reached my jaw and gently tilted my head to the side to expose my neck.
I felt a shiver run down my spin from his touch when he brushed my hair aside.
"This might hurt a little," he said quietly. I could almost hear the tenseness in his voice as he fought to keep control.
"Okay," I whispered.
"And if I don't- stop," he breathed into my ear, his cool breath washing over my skin, "don't hesitate to attack me."
I managed a weak nod. My eyes slid shut when Professor Snape lowered his head to my neck. A moment later, I felt something sharp press against my skin. A stinging pain followed and I let out an involuntary gasp.
Professor Snape's grip tightened on me and I fought to keep still as my neck began to burn. And then suddenly, the pain vanished, replaced by a strange feeling that made my stomach tingle in arousal. My legs began to feel like jelly and I leaned further into his firm body.
As if in a trance, I tilted my head further, giving him further access to my neck.
No, stay awake Hermione- it's just the vampire venom-
I weakly managed to push against his shoulders and Professor Snape growled in response, pressing me tighter against him. The sound sounded like the deep growl of a feral animal that vibrated in his chest.
My hands fell limply down to my side and I lost the last of my control that kept me sane. My mouth parted as my breathing grew ragged. Another gasp escaped my lips when Professor Snape's teeth dug further into my flesh, but it was not painful at all.
It was- exhilarating.
No wonder no one fights the vampires, I thought dazedly, feeling my stomach churn with lust. Yet at the same time, a heavy dizziness began to take ahold of me.
Some rational part of my brain knew I was losing too much blood- but I couldn't move.
I really hadn't thought this through. And the strange part was, I didn't even care. I didn't care that I would probably end up like a shriveled-up pastry if I did not move.
I just wanted to stay like this. Even if it meant that-
A wave of magic surged through me, momentarily clearing my head. I heard the melodious cry of a swan echoing in my ears and it gave me the strength to fight off the hypnotizing effect from getting bitten.
My eyes snapped open. I lifted my knee and shoved it as hard as I could into Professor Snape's groin.
He snarled and let go of me instantly. I stumbled back against a desk, pressing a hand to my bleeding neck that began to burn instantly.
While Professor Snape did not fall over, he stilled for a moment, his black eyes fixing on me. The red blood on his lips contrasted with his pale face and long, dark hair.
Like Snow White, I thought dizzily and felt the urge to laugh. A moment later I fainted.