His Hermione
xoXOXox
Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose up to his brow and across to his temples. They had been at this for two hours and still had four paragraphs of bullshite to hash out.
She had been tenacious in her arguments, trying for fairness not just for herself but for him as well. For Salazar's sake, she had argued him into a corner about purchasing her own apprentice robes so he didn't spend more money than he already would on supplies and ingredients. He had only won that one because he employed his inner Slytherin and pulled on her Gryffindor heartstrings.
'Hermione, you will be my apprentice. This is one of those archaic joys of being a master, choosing and purchasing the robes their apprentice will wear to show their, for lack of a better word, ownership of their education. I will be the laughing stock of all the masters if they find out I did not dress you for the part. I've been laughed at enough in my life. Please, let me have this one.'
With a teary gaze, she had nodded her acquiescence and they had moved on. Now, once again, she was making his head ache.
"That is asinine, Severus. You want to take the norm and completely reverse it. I cannot in good conscience agree to that."
He huffed, dropping his hand to glare at her.
"Then do it in evil conscience."
His deadpanned tone set her hair sparking in annoyance. He was utterly beguiled by how much of her emotions her hair gave away when she wasn't paying attention.
"That is not funny, Snape."
Oh. Back to last names. He really was getting to her. Why did he get so much enjoyment out of riling her up?
"It was not meant to be, Granger. I will not take the credit or profits from anything your brilliant mind invents. Your design, your achievement."
She growled at him. Honest to Merlin growled at him.
"And I will not take advantage of your mentorship that way. It's going to be your expertise and training that gets me there."
He started to speak only to be halted by her finger pointing aggressively at his face. Cheeky little witch.
"It is your lab I will brew them in. Your ingredients I will use to create them. And your effort and time to both perfect it and patent it. Not only will your name be on the patent to acknowledge your part, you will get fifty percent of the profits of any potion I create or perfect while under your mastery pin."
He slammed his hand down, standing to loom over her.
"Absolutely not!"
Her hands slammed down next to his, her face coming dangerously close to his as she rose to match his stance.
"This is non-negotiable, Sir."
They glared at one another for what felt like ages. He watched her pant in anger right alongside him until their breaths were in sync. A flash of something passed through her eyes before she sighed. Elation at having won was short lived, however.
Lifting her eyes to his once more, he watched them turn pleading.
"Master, please."
The air that backed up in his chest and the spike of unwelcome desire that tore through him crumpled his anger into dust. Sighing himself, he closed his eyes and laid his forehead against hers.
"Twenty-five percent."
She snorted.
"Forty-five."
He groaned, bone weary from all the social output of the past few hours.
"Thirty."
"Forty."
"Thirty-five."
"Forty, Severus."
With a sigh of his own, he nodded, their brows rubbing together and sending a shiver down his spine.
"Well played, Apprentice. Forty."
He pulled back just in time to see that smile form on her face.
"Thank you, Master."
With a bow of his head, he sent the documents away for the evening.
"I think that is enough for tonight. I am not used to being this social or arguing and losing so often. Shall we pick this up again next week?"
Standing back to their full heights, she bowed her head in respect to him as she summoned her satchel.
"I'll be here. Seven again?"
He nodded.
"Alright. Good night, Professor Snape."
There was a part of him that rejected his title coming from her lips now. This had been the most frustrating and exciting two hours of his adult life. He felt awake, rejuvenated, alive. But when needs must and all that rubbish.
"Good night, Miss Granger.
xoXOXox
He was doing the usual after dinner rounds when raised voices caught his attention. Disillusioning himself, he walked on silent feet to peer around the corner. Hermione was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, hair throwing random sparks. Mr. Wesley stood opposite her, same stance, face beet red.
"Number one: It's Professor Snape, Ronald. That man fought and almost died for all of us multiple times. Show some proper respect. Number two: We broke up two weeks after the final battle because I was too frigid for your needs. You do not get a say in who I spent my personal or professional time with anymore. And three: he was the one I wanted from the very beginning. I only considered Buchanan because I didn't think Professor Snape would agree and it felt wrong to ask him to sign away another, at minimum, four years of his life to another binding contract of any kind. It isn't sudden or some rebellious act on my part. I wanted the best and he is the best."
He watched the annoying redhead run his hand through his already messy hair, hissing at her in anger. He felt his protective instincts kick in and readied himself in case he needed to step in.
"What do you think he offered for, Hermione? I know the apprentice/master contracts. Buchanan was too old to try to take liberties with certain clauses. But that greasy git isn't. He agreed so he could get his slimy hands on you!"
His eyes widened. They hadn't reached that part of the contract yet and he was dreading it as it was. What if she believed him? What if she decided not to take his offer?
"Good Godric, Ron. Have you been drinking? This is the same Professor Snape who kept his promise for the love of Harry's mum for more years than we've been alive. He is not some lecherous, handsy wizard. We haven't gotten there yet but after all the changes he has argued for my benefit, I have no doubt that one will be stricken entirely. You are being unkind to him for no reason."
Somewhere in the middle of his chest melted at her words. No hesitation. She trusted him enough to believe without speaking to him that he would protect every part of her. As her master, by the old ways, her body was his as much as her education. And Weasley was wrong about one thing. Barnaby Buchanan would absolutely have tried to keep that clause active and Hermione would never have signed that contract.
"You wait and see, 'Mione. He won't change it. It's a master's prerogative to teach and train their apprentices in their chosen art and in the ways of intimacy. He wants to fuck you, 'Mione. Probably to get back at Harry's mum and dad by hurting Harry's best friend. Mark my words."
The slap echoed off the walls, bringing the tension to a higher level than it already was. Hermione's hair was standing on end as magic coursed through it, weaving in and out. She looked like a modern day Medusa, righteous fire burning in her eyes. Her voice was pitched low, a menacing hiss of words.
"How dare you! How fucking dare you speak of him that way. Get out of my sight Ronald Weasley before I show you the new hexes I picked up along the trek from the forest of Dean to the final battle. Let's not forget, I had Bellatrix LeStrange in my head. You can't imagine what I learned while she dug around for information on the sword of Gryffindor."
Shocked from the slap, check turning red, Weasley turned and stomped off without a backwards glance. He waited until her hair calmed down and her breathing evened out before stepping back several paces and making his approaching footsteps heard. Turning the corner, he came face to face with his apprentice, tears gathering and falling like rain from her eyes.
"Miss Granger, what is the matter?"
Moving towards her, he halted, stunned, as she threw herself into his arms and sobbed. Unsure at first what to do, he carefully wrapped his arms around her and held her as gently as possible.
"I'm sorry, Professor!"
Confusion swam in his veins as he stared down at the top of her head.
"Whatever for?"
She clung tighter, as if she was afraid he would vanish from her grip.
"For setting your robes on fire and stealing your ingredients to make polyjuice and solving your riddle and believing you betrayed us and leaving you for dead in that bloody awful place. You never deserved any of that."
He stroked a hand over her hair, pulling his words carefully together.
"Miss Ganger… Hermione… look at me."
Reluctantly, she raised her head, her cheeks puffy and her eyes red from her tears.
"You thought I was the one trying to hurt Potter. You needed information you could only get from Draco. I thought it was amazing that someone so young solved my riddle. I knew then what a beautifully expansive mind you had. You were meant to think I betrayed you and you didn't have a choice but to keep going at the final battle. I never forgave you for those things because they never needed forgiving."
Her eyes welled again and Severus froze in worry that he had said the wrong thing once again. He started to try again when her whispered words reached him.
"Thank you, Severus. I'm so glad we were wrong and you lived. I would have missed you greatly."
This time it was him that had to swallow the tears. He had not cried since the night Lily was murdered but this slip of a young woman brought him to his knees with a few simple words.
"That means more than I can express, Hermione. Come. Let me walk you to your room."
Letting her go, though reluctant to do so, Severus turned and walked in companionable silence with her all the way to her door.
"Whatever happened, Hermione, it will all work itself out."
She gave him a soft smile, squeezing his hand before backing up to the portrait into her dorm.
"I know it will. Goodnight, Severus."
That felt much better than Professor Snape. With a gentle smile of his own, Severus lifted her hand and brushed her knuckles in a gentleman's farewell.
"Good night, Hermione.
With a silent swish of robes, he made his way back towards the dungeons, his mind already spinning ways he was going to make the Weasley brat pay for making his Hermione cry.
xoXOXox