Knocking lightly on the open door, Hermione took a tentative step into the classroom. "Professor?" she called out. The room was dimly lit, illuminated by little more than a few floating candles. The sconces were blown out, the eerie green glow of the dungeons ominous as always. She shivered against the constant chill, offering the man a shy smile as she stood before his desk.
The man in black did not bother to look up from the massive pile of assignments he was correcting. "Yes, Apprentice Granger, what is it now?"
She blushed, shifting her weight on the balls of her feet. "I- erm, I have a request to make, sir," she said, her voice strained.
Snape looked up at her from beneath his lashes, the corner of his lips lifting at her discomfort. He set down his quill slowly and steepled his fingers beneath his nose as he sat back in his chair, one ankle crossed over his knee. "I live to serve," he purred, arching an imperious brow at her.
Hermione's face was on fire as her blush deepened, running down her throat and beneath the neckline of her brown apprenticeship robes. She took a shaking breath and wrung her hands, her palms moist and sweaty. Here goes nothing.
"Would you care to join me for tea?" she blurted out.
A frown knit his brows. He had not been expected that. He recovered quickly, an impassive mask hiding his emotions. "Your ability to catch me off guard impresses me, Apprentice Granger," he replied smoothly. "I admit you have me intrigued by your request."
Swallowing thickly, the witch tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. "I was hoping to perhaps discuss the uses of certain magical flora in potions. I was-"
"In the library," he supplied with a smirk. "Where else would you be in your spare time?"
She caught her lip between her teeth and focused on breathing, her heart racing in her chest. She had rarely ever been quite so forward, especially with her former teachers turned colleagues. "I understand if you are otherwise occupied," she rambled, trying to save face before she made a bigger fool of herself.
The Potions' Master stood then, rearranging his pile of essays into a more ordered mess, and stepped around his desk. Standing before her, he once again raised an eyebrow. "What gave you the impression I would not be inclined to acquiesce to your demand of my time?" he asked curiously, searching her face for anything besides embarrassment. He offered her his arm and jerked his head toward the door. "Lead the way, Miss Granger."
Her heart squeezed as relief flooded through her. She let out a slow breath and curled her arm around his, her fingers gripping his wool coat. "You're always so busy," she answered bashfully. "Besides, you are not often seen consorting with colleagues, much less apprentices."
He shrugged, an elegant lift of his broad shoulders. "I have been known to make the occasional exception," he replied, his voice a soft rumble of velvet by her ear as they walked down the darkened corridor. "How could I resist the offer of such interesting conversation with the most sought-after apprentice Hogwarts has known in decades?"
Hermione pursed her lips and held back a girlish giggle. "You flatter me, sir," she responded. "What a lovely spin on 'insufferable know-it-all', you have such a way with words."
His breath was hot on her ear, his voice too close in all its richness and dark beauty. A rarity blissfully preserved from the thrice-damned snake that had nearly ended his life. "Don't I?" he murmured, a finger sliding along her jaw to lift her chin toward his face as they halted at the top of the stairs.
He observed her carefully, taking in her bright cognac eyes. Her breathing hitched as his gaze raked her, taking in every inch, his thumb on her chin just below her lip. "Tea and conversation?" he inquired. "Is that all, Apprentice Granger, or do you have an ulterior motive?"
