The Serpent's Kiss

Chapter Seven: Firewhiskey Dreams

Hermione bolted upright in her bed, breathing heavily. There was a thin sheen of cold sweat covering her body. She placed a hand over her racing heart and tried to calm herself. After several moments, her hands were still shaking, so she climbed out of bed and padded silently to the sitting room.

It was the same nightmare that she always had. Cold hands pinned her to the floor while murderous eyes glared into hers. And then the pain and the screaming and begging for it to be over. Hermione tried to put it from her mind, but it seemed like it was always there. Just waiting to devour her.

She moved to sit on the couch and realized that her professor was already there. He clutched a half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey in his hand. His eyes followed her as she sat down at the opposite end of the couch.

"It's three o'clock in the morning, Miss Granger."

Hermione tucked her feet beneath her and settled back into the cushions. She watched the fire dance in the hearth, casting odd shadows onto the room. "I ... had a nightmare."

Snape nodded and took a long swig of his drink. She eyed the sloshing liquid curiously. "Why are you drinking?"

She braced for his anger, sure that he was going to scream at her to mind her own business. But he only said, "Why not?"

Hermione was stunned at his response. Exactly how drunk was he? Deciding to press her luck, she held her breath and asked, "Is something wrong, Professor?"

She could see the anger in his gaze, but it seemed somewhat subdued. Snape let out a snort of derision and his eyes narrowed. "No, Miss Granger. Everything is just grand."

She winced inwardly when she realized what a dumb question that had been. His gaze had trapped her and she couldn't look away. "Do you think the Curse-Breakers will find anything?"

He took another swallow from the bottle. There was a long moment of silence. When he spoke, his voice was rough. "No, I don't."

Her stomach plummeted. Somewhere deep within her, Hermione had expected him to say that. But it still hurt. "So, what do we do?" she asked meekly.

"Atherton is the key to all of this. We have to find him. And then, he will answer for all of our suffering."

Hermione ran a hand through her wild hair. She felt slightly nervous at the dark expression that had settled on the man's face. She was sure that she didn't want to know what he meant by that.

She huffed, leaning forward to take the bottle from his hands. He raised a single brow at her and pulled it away before she could. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"

Hermione kept her hand held out. She rolled her eyes. "I'm of age."

He did not relent. "Yes, and you are also a student. My student."

"Technically, not right now. Term hasn't started yet."

Snape made a noise of aggravation and thrust the bottle at her. "Fine, you bloody harpy. Here."

She marveled again at this mellower Snape. That should have never worked. Not in a million years. "Thank you, sir."

He was watching her intently, so Hermione braced herself and tipped the bottle back. She'd had alcohol a few times before, but it had always been weaker than this. The liquid set her throat on fire and seared its way through her body. She spluttered and handed the bottle back to him.

"How can you drink that?" she managed to choke out.

Her professor shook his head and muttered something about lightweights. Hermione giggled and then, seeing the look on Snape's face, the giggles grew into full peals of laughter. She wasn't sure what was so funny, but every time she looked at him, she would collapse into laughter again.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was actually having a civil conversation with Severus Snape. And they were drinking together. The very notion seemed absolutely ridiculous, and yet here they were.

And then it happened. The corners of Snape's mouth turned up and he chuckled. And all Hermione could do was grin at him like an idiot, because she'd never seen him smile before.

Hermione's heart fluttered. He was so very handsome when he looked at her like that. It was a shame that he kept it hidden. "You have a very nice smile."

She flushed when he didn't respond. There was something concealed just behind the dark eyes that were now scorching her. But, for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what it was. There was a long moment where he just stared at her. And then, finally, he said, "Why don't you go to sleep, Miss Granger?"

At his words, she realized just how exhausted she was. These days, it seemed like she was always tired. She nodded her head and murmured a goodnight to her professor.

"Goodnight, Miss Granger," he said, still gazing at her strangely.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione breathed a huff of frustration. She was trying, and failing, to concentrate on the work she was doing to repair one of the corridors. The source of her difficulty was at the opposite end of the hall, patiently restoring one of the statues to its former glory.

Every few minutes she would send a glance in Snape's direction. Usually, he didn't see her watching him. But, a few times, he had caught her looking. When that happened, she would blush and quickly avert her gaze. So far, he hadn't said anything about catching her red-handed.

Hermione wanted to roll her eyes at herself. With every day that passed, she found herself becoming more and more distracted by him. Honestly, what was her problem?

She shook herself and forcibly turned herself back to her work. A moment later, Hermione heard the sound of his footsteps approaching her. He had moved directly behind her and was working on righting all of the paintings on the wall.

"How was the rest of your night, Miss Granger? Did you have any more nightmares?"

Hermione froze. She was shocked that he seemed to be asking after her welfare. "No, sir. No more nightmares."

Her professor did not look at her as he spoke. "What was it about?"

She hesitated; she didn't like to talk about that day with anyone. "It was about the night at Malfoy Manor. They're always about that night."

Now, he turned to pin her with his dark gaze. His expression was unfathomable. "I could brew you a Dreamless Sleep Potion, if you'd like."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. Did he actually care about her nightmares? "Oh, that's very kind. Thank you, but I'll be fine. They don't happen every night anymore."

When he did not speak, she cleared her throat nervously. "What about you, sir? Do you have nightmares?"

She expected him to ignore her or change the subject. But he gave the slightest shrug of his shoulder and said, "Occasionally."

For probably the first time in her life, Hermione was at a loss for words. In an attempt to change the subject, she smirked. "Did you have a hangover when you woke up this morning?"

Severus scoffed. "No, I did not."

"Do you drink often?" she wondered, that same smirk playing around her lips.

Snape glared at her, but he didn't seem to be truly angry. "Definitely not as often as I should. Especially since you came into my life."

Hermione crossed her arms across her chest and returned his mock glare. "That was uncalled for. If anything, I'm the one who should be the alcoholic."

For a moment, she worried that she had gone too far with her last comment. But then, he smiled again and her heart began to thump frantically against her chest. She wanted to keep that smile all to herself; she couldn't bear to share it.

"Get back to work, Miss Granger."

Hermione smiled. "Yes, sir."