Descendant of Merlin (Severus Snape) Book 1: Anger and Awe

Detention

I dropped him off at the infirmary and headed out of the castle. Today had been a double potions day for me, and there was still a good half hour before my next class.

Since I had extra time I decided now was as good a time as any to consider how I had been reacting towards Snape lately. I wasn't looking forward to this mental examination.

I had always admired Snape and how he carried himself. No matter how miserable or tired he seemed he always held his head high. For the first couple of years he taught at Hogwarts several students had called him a Death Eater in front of his other students. Even I was concerned about that to begin with, but Snape never let it get under his skin. He neither confirmed nor denied the allegations to us. It was none of our business as far as he was concerned.

He acted pissed off all the time, but he always seemed in control. It was as if God himself could be tearing the world apart and Snape would be the one to march up to him and demand to know what in the bloody hell he thought he was doing. I smiled as I pictured that scenario.

Then I thought about Christmas and the way Snape seemed to hypnotize me. I had barely blinked as I watched him work. As I recalled that morning I was very aware of how his robes had pulled over his back and shoulders as he leaned across his work station. I could see the muscle there when he moved despite his thinness. I was also hypersensitive to the way his long hair, in need of trimming and decent conditioner, hung in his face helter-skelter. Again my heart had this strange sensation of longing as I imagined myself brushing it out of his face.

The way he had grabbed my wrist when I tried to wipe his face made mine heat up. It had been forceful enough to make me stop, but it wasn't painful. I could feel the tension in his grip, but he held it back. Why did he hold back?

The way Lucas had talked Snape's grip was like an iron clamp that would bruise. I looked at my own wrist to find it unmarked. It was beginning to seem that perhaps Professor Snape was gentler with me than with my classmates.

When he made me cry he seemed upset with himself but unwilling to admit that. I probably would have had a stroke if he had actually apologized, but the look in his eyes had spoken volumes. He hadn't realized he came off so hatefully, and he couldn't stand the fact that I was crying. He had even brushed my tears away which I think surprised us both in equal amounts. I doubt he even understood why I was crying.

Then today when he was dragging Lucas out of his classroom and my heart was pounding; I wasn't worried about Lucas. I was concerned because Snape was going to dual. I somehow knew he could handle himself, but I figured there was a chance that Lucas might get a lucky shot in and hurt Snape. It was enough to make my breathing halt.

I like Professor Snape...I thought to myself dumbly. I like my Potions Master as more than a teacher. Hell, I am attracted to him immensely if I really want to admit it. I could even see myself bedding him in the future...Not the near future. I shivered at that realization. It wasn't a disgusted shiver; more like my body was glad my brain was finally catching up to what was going on.

I sighed. I had never been big on lying to myself so I quickly came to terms with my feelings for the dark and mysterious Professor Severus Snape. I even liked his name. What was I going to do about this now that I had admitted it to myself? I sighed but couldn't help the giddy feeling twisting in my stomach.

My next class would be starting soon so I pushed off of the stone bench I was sitting on and headed to my NEWT level Charms class. I felt more at peace having thought through what was happening inside me.

During class Lynx kept bugging me to tell her what was making me so smiley after I had been all gloomy at lunch. I told her I would tell her eventually and to trust me. Grudgingly, she agreed.

We told each other everything, but I had to see where this thing was going. My woman's intuition told me Snape was having some of the same issues as me, but I couldn't be certain that wasn't just wishful thinking. Time would tell.

At six fifty I left my dorm to head to detention. I hated to admit that I wasn't very upset about having detention with Professor Snape. As I walked down the quiet halls I was pleased to find my combat boots made no sound whatsoever. I had taken to wearing them with my uniform. It wasn't really obeying the rules, but nobody had said anything to me so I figured I would keep doing it.

I knocked on the door softly and was greeted by Snape's rich voice on the other side.

"Enter," he said. I opened the door and walked inside at one minute before seven. I smiled at my punctuality. I am a nerd at heart; maybe that's why I get along with those Ravenclaws?

"Ah Miss Fellstone, I have a set of cauldrons that were used by my third year students today that I need cleaned for my fifth years tomorrow," he said indicating the large pile of cauldrons on the floor to my left. I swallowed and walked over to them.

"No magic." I cursed mentally as he added that stipulation at the end.

"Yes Professor," I said politely and picked up the toothbrush and soap that had been sat out beside the cauldrons. Then, I grudgingly set to work stealing glances at Snape whenever I thought he wouldn't notice.

"Can I help you?" he drawled looking up from his papers. I blushed deeply. He'd noticed.

"I was wondering if you got in trouble about what happened with that Gryffindor in class today," I made up on the spot. I was curious so it wasn't a total lie. Snape grunted unhappily and went back to grading the papers on his desk.

"No, Dumbledore said he would have Minerva write a letter to the boy's mother and explain how he had behaved. Dumbledore is certain there will be no problems. He checked my wand and found that the spell I had used was for protection so it's fine," he told me. I was surprised he hadn't told me to mind my own business.

"I'm glad," I said happily with a small smile. Snape froze for a second but didn't comment. I wondered if that was a good sign or a bad one. I mentally shrugged and kept scrubbing. An hour and a half or so later I finished the last cauldron and stood up from where I had knelt on the floor. My knees hurt terribly.

"I'm finished, Professor," I said politely. He looked up, and I noticed the dark circles under his eyes. His skin had more of a grey cast to it than usual. I felt a pang in my heart looking at his gaunt features. He was obviously exhausted.

"Very well, do be more careful in class from now on," he said dismissively, but I had a Gryffindor moment and approached his desk bravely.

"Is something the matter, Sir?" I asked sincerely.

"That does not concern you," he said without looking up. His tone wasn't as cold as it should have been though so I pressed a little further.

"I still want to get to know you better," I said softly. My robes brushed the front of his desk now. He lifted his face, and my hand acted of its own mind. It reached out and brushed his hair away from his face. His eyes widened in shock, and he froze with his mouth slightly open. I'm pretty sure I had the same expression. He had been about to chastise me for poking my nose into his business I could tell, but I had stopped him.

"No," he said simply. His expression was torn, but he backed his chair up and stood. I watched him with my heart in my throat.

"Isabe—" he froze midstride as he came around his desk. Slowly he exhaled pinching the bridge of his nose to help release some of the tension. He had realized a second too late that he had started to call me by my first name. That had to mean something. The sound of my name on his lips was like music to me, and I longed to hear him say it fully.

"Yes Professor?" I asked staying very still. I didn't want to trigger one of his moods and ruin the progress that was being made right now. I had to treat him a bit like a skittish cat; move too suddenly and he will either run or attack. He sighed tiredly.

"Don't you think it's wrong to be attracted to someone you have to properly address by a title?" he asked with as much power he could muster. It didn't amount to much right now. I was almost shocked that he'd noticed what I had only just come to terms with myself, but this was Snape after all.

"I'm a Slytherin," I fought the urge to call him sir, "same as you. Since when do we obey all the rules?"