Becoming Familiar with a Man of Misery

Chapter 6 ~ Confrontation

Hermione burst into laughter the moment she exited the Great Hall. The look on the Potions Master’s face at her ‘stale pussy’ comment was priceless. And Raucous was about to go into conniptions. Well, she had better hurry and get to her rooms. She wanted to be ready when the Potions Master came after her.

Hermione opened her rooms door and hurried inside. She placed several wards on the door to hold him off. She had no doubt he would force his way into her rooms if she didn’t answer. That was precisely what she wanted. She really didn’t know anything about seducing a wizard, though she didn’t want to actually do that, but she wanted to make an unmistakable impression on the snarky Potions Master. Maybe get him thinking. Plus, the argumentive advantage would be in her favor if she could put him off balance. She had no intention on letting him browbeat her.

Hermione walked into her bedroom and to her lingerie drawer. She pulled it open and searched through her nighties. She found a short white silk one that fit her nicely. She had purchased it because it felt nice against her skin. It dipped low in the front and showed her cleavage. After more rummaging she found the matching silk robe. She opened her knicker draw and took out some matching white knickers. She hurried into the shower, divestoed her clothes and hopped in, washing quickly. She dried off and dressed quickly in the gown, then brushed out her hair until it shined. She looked at herself in the mirror. She wasn’t one for makeup. She was interested in it once, until a fellow student ran out of it, and refused to leave Gryffindor Tower. The girl was pretty enough, but the make-up made her flawless. Without it, she looked very, very plain. She was a slave to the stuff. Hermione decided then and there that she wouldn’t wear it unless she was going to an affair or function.

Hermione didn’t need make-up. She looked quite enticing. The witch hurried back out into the sitting room, conjured up a mirror and practiced lying out on the sofa looking sultry. She flipped around several times trying to find the perfect pose, and still hadn’t found it when the heavy, impatient knock sounded on the door.

“Shit,” she said, causing the mirror to vanish. As an afterthought, she put a repelling spell around herself, just in case the Potions Master lost it and tried to get physical or hex her. He’d get a surprise.

“Who is it?” she called sweetly as she got on the sofa and stretched out. She lifted the robe a little so her long leg showed almost to the thigh, and tossed her hair a little. She hoped she was doing this right.

Outside the door, a scowling Professor Snape answered.

“It’s Professor Snape, Miss Granger. I want to talk to you,” he said. Raucous was perched on his shoulder. If birds could scowl, the raven would have a very black look on his face. As it were, he was staring at the door intently, planning on flying at Hermione the moment she opened it.

“Go away. I’ve talked to you all I care to,” Hermione called back at him.

Why the impertinent little guttersnipe!

“Open this door now, Miss Granger, or I’ll open it myself,” the Potions Master seethed.

“I said go away, Professor. I have no time for you,” Hermione responded, “I’m very busy. We can talk tomorrow.”

“We will talk tonight!” the irate wizard yelled back at her. He pulled out his wand and started working on her wards. Hermione heard him cursing as he tried spell after spell. Finally he got them down.

“Alohamora,” Severus said, turning the knob and stalking in, Raucous on his shoulder.

Immediately the bird launched himself at Hermione, soaring towards her and twisting in the air, claws extended, ready to lock in her hair. Hermione looked at him calmly as the bird bounced off the repelling spell and was thrown back whirling end over end across the room. The Potions Master caught him, or the bird would have been in a bad way when he hit the wall.

Severus checked the bird, who was rather dizzy. Raucous squawked weakly, his glossy head wobbling a bit as he tried to straighten out his focus.

The Potions Master lifted his black eyes at Hermione and for the first time realized how she was dressed. She had on a flimsy white robe and short nightgown. It appeared to be silk and exposed much of her legs. He was surprised to see how long they were. Hermione was quite short.

“Get out of my rooms, Professor. You were not invited in,” she said, sitting up on the sofa, letting her robe fall open. Her cleavage was quite impressive.

The Potions Master stared at her for a moment then asked, “Why are you dressed like that, Miss Granger? It is indecent.”

Hermione blinked at him in disbelief.

“I am dressed for bed, Professor, and a better question would be why are you in my rooms when I clearly told you to go away?” she shot back at him, standing up now and letting him get a good look at her.

The Potions Master went silent for a moment.

“You put fish in my room,” he accused.

“Don’t be stupid,” Hermione said, “I did no such thing.”

Stupid? Did she just call him stupid?

He snarled and stalked toward her. Hermione stood her ground. He stopped about a foot from the witch. Now he could really see her curves. He could even make out her dark nipples underneath the silk and white knickers. His black eyes swept over her, but they were full of anger.

“You did do such a thing. Why else would you have made snake sounds when you addressed Raucous? You put an illusion of a snake up in the rafters where he perches,” the Potions Master said.

“First fish, now snakes. Really Professor, why would I do such a thing,” she asked him.

“To try and get back at me you little piece of baggage,” the Potions Master snarled nastily.

“You’re not worth my time you snarky fuck,” Hermione replied, just as nastily.

She cursed at him! But he was in her rooms uninvited. This was a personal matter, nothing he could report to Albus under the guise of insubordination. He decided to go for the jugular.

“That’s not what you implied the other night when I ran your randy little ass from my classroom,” he said to her, “You implied I was worth more than a little of your time, Miss Granger.”

“Yes. But you are an idiot, Professor and a damn fool to boot. Why I should give a shit about you I have no idea? But just because I do doesn’t mean I’m going to let you abuse me. If you want a war of the Roses, Professor, I will certainly be a thorn in your pale ass. You say you don’t want me, but go out of your way to try and make me miserable, to get a rise out of me. If you really weren’t interested, you would ignore me. Leave me alone. But you’re not doing it. Why is that, Professor?”

The Professor scowled at her blackly.

“Why, Miss Granger? I’ll tell you why, you little chit. Because you’ve never known how to take no for an answer. You have a decided pattern of pushing on despite the odds of failure, worrying a no-win situation like a niffler worries a galleon. You don’t know when to quit, and I don’t feel like having you zeroing in on me like one of your cerebral challenges. I said no, and I meant no. But no is not enough for an overachiever like you. So I needed to apply myself to make sure you get the message,” he said evenly.

Hermione’s eyes flashed at him.

“No, that’s not it, Professor. It’s not that I don’t know how to take no for an answer. It’s just that I press on until I am successful, despite the odds of failure. You are afraid I will wear you down. You know I like to win, I like to beat the odds, and am very good at it.”

Hermione slipped her robe off and dropped it on the floor. The Professor’s eyes glittered.

“Put that back on, Miss Granger,” he said to her coldly, “I have no desire to be blinded.”

“You’re full of shit, Professor,” she replied, “Look at what you’re passing up, you snarky bastard.”

She spun around, her hair flying. Then she turned back to face him.

“You know something, Professor…you try to paint everyone as being pathetic, but it’s you that’s the sad case. You’re lucky anyone in this world finds you attractive, the way you cut people down and make others miserable because your life isn’t perfect. The only reason you have no joy in your life is because you won’t accept it. You are wallowing in self-pity and hiding behind your misery. You would think a man surrounded by such ugliness would make an effort to find beauty and grab hold of it to sustain him. But no, not you, you hold a constant pity party for yourself, and you force others to attend it. ‘Poor me. Voldemort tortures me. Nobody appreciates me’

Hermione actually laughed at the wizard, who was staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

“And when somebody comes to you with appreciation, who knows you are deserving of something better, you drive them away at wandpoint, unable to accept that bit of happiness you’re being offered. I used to think you were courageous, but you’re not, Professor. Sure, you can face the Dark Lord, but you are completely incapable of facing yourself. You deny you have need for companionship, for intimacy, even for love. Every living creature needs that. You are running from your own humanity, Professor, like a coward. A fucking coward. And it is a real shame because somewhere beneath all the shit you sling at everyone, there is a decent human being, or else you wouldn’t be submitting yourself to all this pain just to gather a little pittance of information here and there that might stop Voldemort, or at least slow him down until he can be killed.”

“Maybe you really can’t stand me, Professor. Maybe you even hate me, I don’t know. What I do know is that I offered you something that you dearly need in your life, because I care about you. I see you how you can be, and not as you are, though you make it so hard. I respect your mind, your brilliance. I appreciate what you give up for all of us. I tell you I want to help make your life more pleasant. I offer you the greatest gift I can give, and you are too fucking caught up in the misery you propagate daily to open up and accept something that would be good for you. You are afraid to feel anything good, Professor, anything that reminds you there is beauty in the world. As I said before you are a fucking coward, hiding behind cruelty, bitterness and pain, instead of trying to find a way to live through it, live with it.”

“I’m not going to let you bully me anymore Professor…Severus,” Hermione said, her hands on her hips,” I still feel something very strong for you, but you will not treat me like I’m nothing, when it is you working so hard to be nothing, to feel nothing, to want nothing. You will not make me feel ugly and dirty, I won’t allow you to. I’ll continue in the hope that you will fucking wake up from the nightmare you impose on yourself every minute of every day, and see me for who I am, someone who cares what happens to you and wants to see you happy. Yes, there’s a physical aspect to this. I won’t deny it. I’ve already confessed it to you, but that is part of the package. I’ve not let anyone touch me in the hopes that one day it would be you to touch me, because I feel just that strongly, but I’m not going to beg you to accept me. That’s like telling a starving man he needs to eat from the banquet in front of him, and he refuses, preferring to starve. That’s what you are, Severus. A starving man who doesn’t have sense enough to eat. You’d rather bemoan the fact you’re starving and waste away. Poor fucking Severus!”

Hermione drew a breath and frowned at him.

Now, get the fuck out of my rooms!” she said furiously, “And take that turncoat, black-hearted feather duster with you!”

The Potions Master stared at her. Never in his adult life had anyone dared to dress him down like this little witch in a silk nightie had done. His mouth opened…but there was nothing he could say. He turned with Raucous and silently exited the witch’s room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Exhausted, Hermione fell back on the sofa. She had just told off Severus Snape, called him on himself. She felt pretty damn good about it too. It had been cleansing.

Maybe now she’d see some changes in the wizard.

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A/N: Whew! That whole chapter was almost a monologue. Hermione got him told though. I wonder what Severus will do now? We’ll find out. Please review.

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The Burning Pen

Becoming Familiar with a Man of Misery
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.

CHAPTER 7

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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