Bubble Bath

Chapter 3

By Shiv

Hermione was surprised at how well the boys were taking the news. Ron’s reaction was coloured by his absolute terror that Hermione might want to go out with him again, because he was a young man with his whole life in front of him. So, ‘better him than me’ just about summed it up, with a hint of ‘poor devil’. He never thought the day would come when he would feel some sort of sympathy of Severus Snape.  The thought of the poor sod at the mercy of Hermione had succeeded where Crucio at the hands of Lord Voldemort had left him unmoved. 

Harry’s response was a little more thoughtful. “Does this mean that we can get Malfoy after all?”

“Let me tell you about Malfoy,” she said, and proceeded to do so. She decided not to tell them about Severus’ epiphany as to the identity of the impostor. She didn’t think they were ready to hear that they were sharing a bed on a regular basis. And a sofa, a bath, a floor, a wall, his desk………

“But why would Snape want to punish him for that. Seems to me he’s done Snape a favour?” said Ron, oblivious to Hermione’s increasingly stormy expression. He suddenly realised what Harry’s frantic signalling was about, and with a hardly noticeable change of gear added, “After all you can’t deny that he’s lucky to get someone as wonderful as you, Hermione.”

She gave him a hard stare, but allowed him to wriggle off the hook. “The point is,” she continued, “I am annoyed with the little ferret because both of us very nearly got booted out of Hogwarts; and Severus is annoyed because the little ferret saw me in the bath.”

They continued to look puzzled.

“With no clothes on.”

Ah. Enlightenment dawned. She wondered what it was about men that made them oblivious to the fact that she might not be entirely happy about being seen in the bath by Draco Malfoy. First Severus, now Ron and Harry.

It was fortunate that Hermione didn’t see the affectionate glance that Ron gave her breasts. Seeing them for the first time was one of the happiest memories of their gruelling night of passion, before it all went horribly wrong.

Hermione yawned.

“You look worn out, Hermione. Why don’t you have a lie down and catch up on some sleep…” there was a nasty silence as the two boys realised why she was so tired before Harry rushed on “… and we’ll catch up with you later.”

“Good idea,” she said simply, and headed off to bed.

Ron was still cringing at the thought of Hermione and Snape, well, at it. His sympathies had swung round to Hermione now as he thought of the poor girl lying underneath the Greasy Git as he … ugh. Best not to think about it.

Harry waited until Hermione was well clear of the room before turning to Ron and saying, “Come on. I think we ought to go and see Snape.”

“Why?” said Ron, hurrying out of the Common Room after Harry.

“Revenge.”

“Revenge? I don’t think Snape will want our help in dealing with Malfoy.”

“You are an idiot sometimes, Ron. Not revenge on Malfoy. Revenge on Snape.” Harry’s smile was beatific. “Think about it. We can ask him all sorts of personal questions. We can ask him if his intentions are honourable. We can even threaten to hex him if he treats her badly and he has to put up with it.”

“You want to … you’re the idiot Harry. He’ll never stand for it.”

“He will. He has to. He has no other choice, not if he wants to keep seeing Hermione.”

Ron’s smile was, if anything, even more evil than Harry’s was. “But we’ll still get Malfoy?” he queried.

“Oh, yes. But first we have bigger fish to fry!”

Severus was not happy to be woken from his nap by the sound of knocking at the door. He was in two minds as to whether he wanted to see Hermione at the moment. He couldn’t imagine any circumstances in which he wouldn’t be pleased to see her, but dear god he needed some rest. He didn’t think that she would take a suggestion that they just cuddle up and go to sleep as anything other than a challenge, and he had no doubt he would rise to the occasion. He could take some Pepper Up potion, he supposed. Or one of the more exotic Lust Potions he just happened to have on hand in his private store.

He had just decided to settle for slipping her a sleeping potion, resting till a light lunch, and then spending the afternoon shagging - so giving him plenty of time for an early night - when he opened the door to be confronted with Potter and Weasley.

He blenched.

They obviously knew about his relationship with Hermione, and his future at Hogwarts now rested in their hands. Judging by the smiles on their faces, they were well aware of it.

He was tired, and he was off balance because he wasn’t sure that you could call two nights of passion a relationship and he wasn’t really used to being happy, but he was still Snape.

He rather thought that the outcome of this particular confrontation would determine who had the upper hand going forward. It was rather like dominant bucks clashing for the right to mate with the rest of the herd. If he won, they would accept him as Hermione’s whatever-he-ended-up-as. Boyfriend. Lover. Husband.

Husband?

If they won, he would spend the rest of his time with Hermione jockeying for position and competing for her attention.

He’d do it, but he wouldn’t like it.

Once the initial shock faded, his brain kicked back into life and one very important fact struck him – there was no way they could tell Albus without getting Hermione into trouble. In fact, the more he thought about it the more he realised that they were just a minor annoyance. There was nothing they could actually do to him.  Hermione was not likely to take their intervention in her love life very well, so they couldn’t look for support there either.

So, they’ve come down here to bluff the Head of Slytherin without any cards in their hands. He could dispose of the two of them in about half an hour, still have time for a decent nap, and be back on track for the light lunch and an afternoon with Hermione.

He smiled back and had the immense pleasure of watching their smug certainty fade. Now they were wondering what he knew, and what that they hadn’t thought of.

Perfect.

He had to give them credit though; they didn’t back down. In Harry’s case he suspected this was due more to stupidity than courage, not that there was necessarily a great deal of difference between the two. He said nothing but stood back to allow them into his quarters. He couldn’t stifle a yawn and both boys winced. Apparently they weren’t very happy at the thought of the finer details of what went on between him and Hermione. If all else failed, he could always try comparing notes with Ron. They should be heading for the door in five seconds flat.

In the interests of decent relations with Hermione, he waved them to the sofa. He couldn’t help smirking when he thought of what he had used it for the night before. Ron seemed to pick up on that because he gave the inoffensive piece of furniture a very hard stare before sitting down.

Harry, living up to Severus’ view as someone who rushed in where angels’ feared to tread, fired the opening salvo in the battle for Hermione’s heart and mind; and in Severus’ case, body.

“You’d better treat her right, you know, or you’ll have to answer to me!”

Severus wanted to ask quite what the little twerp thought he could do about it if he didn’t treat her right. Really, Harry seemed to think that polishing off Voldemort – with a lot of help from others, and the full weight of prophecy behind him – meant he was invincible. How he itched to prove him wrong. Unfortunately, Hermione would probably object if he returned Harry to the Gryffindor common room in pieces.

He wondered for a split second if it was all worth it, and then memories of the night before came flooding back. Oh yes, it definitely was worth it.

So he merely assured Harry that he had every intention of treating her well.

Taken aback by this mild response, Harry was at a loss for something to say. His mouth worked silently for a couple of seconds, and then he said, “I think it’s disgusting the way you took advantage of Hermione.”

“She started it.” The reply was infinitely childish, but rather good fun nonetheless. As he suspected, it added fuel to the flames. Harry was on the point of launching into a diatribe against his morals, his temperament and his appearance – all well deserved he suspected – when Ron interrupted.

“Don’t be daft, Harry. Hermione is perfectly capable of looking after herself. She knows what she wants, and she goes and gets it.” Ron shuddered at the memories.

“Yes, she does, doesn’t she?” Severus said with a fond note in his voice.

Severus and Ron looked at each other.

Severus was surprised to feel some sympathy for the boy. Even he had some difficulty dealing with Hermione in full flow, so he could only imagine what it had been like for the poor little sod. He had no experience, no knowledge and above all no recourse to a well-stocked potions room in case of emergency.

For his part, for the first time in his studies at Hogwarts, Ron felt a reluctant respect for Professor Snape. He had bedded Hermione and not only lived to tell the tale, but apparently had enjoyed the experience, and felt strong enough to go back for more. He supposed that dealing with Voldemort and Crucio had toughened him up, but still, that was bravery of a different kind.

He sighed. Harry was on to a loser here, and needed to be put into reverse as soon as possible. There was a reason he always beat Harry at Wizard’s Chess.

“Leave it, Harry. We’re not going to get anywhere with Snape. We didn’t think it through properly. He may not be able to hex us, because Hermione would get upset, but we can’t be nasty to him or she’ll hex us or worse.”

“You’re not as stupid as I thought,” was all that Severus said, which he thought was quite mild bearing in mind he had just been addressed as Snape. Perhaps an accommodation could be reached.

Ron shrugged. “You always get overlooked when you’re the sidekick. Overlooked and underestimated. I’m used to it by now.”

“Bloody useful though,” said Severus, with some feeling. “Tends to increase your chances of survival – you’ve always got someone to hide behind. I always used to let Lucius go first.” They both smirked at that, whilst Harry looked dim, as only Harry could. Severus felt relieved. The lad Weasley appeared to have a sense of humour and a grasp of the situation. He thought that they would at least come to an understanding, and maybe more. They could certainly have a lot of innocent fun at Harry’s expense.

Harry couldn’t quite work out how it had happened, one minute they had been barrelling down here to have a go at Snape and rub his nose in the fact that he had to be nice to them from now on, the next Ron and Snape were acting like the best of friends. He couldn’t see how it was going to get any worse.

He really should have known better; whatever gods there are in the world cannot resist a cue like that.

There came a knock at the door. Severus opened it to find Hermione, which was a relief in many ways. He didn’t fancy explaining what the boys were doing in his room to anyone else.

“I’ve missed you,” she said in a very sultry voice.

“I’ve missed you too,” he said a bit stiffly. It was embarrassing to be soppy in front of the boys. She looked a little disappointed at the coldness of her welcome, so he quickly added, “And I believe Harry and Ron have missed you too.”

She followed him through, and sat next to him on the sofa. Sod it! he thought, and held her hand. He was rewarded with a warm smile, and a quick squeeze of his fingers.

“So what have you two been up to?” she asked, in a very pointed way.

“We were just thinking of something to do to Malfoy,” Severus said. He didn’t particularly feel like standing in the way of Hermione’s wrath being vented on the boys, but tactics dictated it. They should be grateful for his distraction tactics, and grateful boys would be easier to deal with in future.

Hermione gave him a hard look, and then asked, “And what had you decided?”

There was an awkward silence as the males in the room tried to think of a punishment for Malfoy on the spur of the moment. Ron broke the silence by asking, “What had you thought of Hermione? After all, it was you he insulted, so I’m sure you have a couple of ideas of your own.”

There was no doubt that the boy was more intelligent than he was given credit for, thought Severus. That level of slithering out from trouble was worthy of a Slytherin. Of course Hermione hadn’t been deceived for one moment, but it gave them a breathing space to think of something nasty to do to Malfoy. In truth, he had been too tired to turn his mind to anything other than the urgent necessity for bed.

She let the matter drop, although the boys would have to be stupid to think that was the end of it. Severus predicted a very robust exchange of views on the matter later, in his absence.

“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “What is the worse thing that could happen to Malfoy?”

Severus thought about that for a moment, and then the answer hit him. “Of course! I have just the thing, but you will all need to play a part.”

The boys were eager to help pay back Malfoy for seven years of aggravation and were looking at Severus with open-mouthed anticipation. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

“The worst thing that could happen to young Mr Malfoy,” he said, “would be to force him to tell the truth for an entire day.”

For a second he thought that the idea was too subtle for the boys to appreciate, but judging from the evil grin that crossed Weasley’s – Ron’s, he must remember that – face, the penny had dropped without the need for prolonged and tedious explanations. Ron took a long moment to revel in the prospect before, seeing the blank look that so frequently covered Harry’s face, he explained. “Think about it, Harry. He’ll be forced to tell the truth to everyone. Can you imagine how long he’ll last when he tells Pansy or anyone else what he really thinks about them?”

Severus was mildly concerned to see the considering look that Hermione was giving him. What had he done wrong now? He had come up with a plan; Malfoy would be punished. Surely she should be happy.

He was distracted when Harry said, “But won’t that mean Malfoy will tell anyone who asks him about Hermione and ….” he swallowed hard before saying it “…. Sev ….. Professor Snape.”

“I’ll take care of that with a binding charm,” Severus said. “I’d have to do it anyway, because I don’t trust the little sod to keep quiet.”

The boys accepted that, and Harry seemed pleased to hear Draco described as a little sod where previously he had thought that Professor Snape actually liked him. It didn’t mean that he liked Snape any more than he did before, and it certainly didn’t mean that Snape liked Harry any more than he did before, but it did mean that Harry wasn’t alone in being disliked by Snape, and that Draco wasn’t the admired golden boy he had always thought. Oddly enough, it made him feel better.

“How will we get that potion into him,” Ron mused. “We can’t just slip it into his drink, Dumbledore might find out and I don’t fancy getting expelled so close to the end of my time at Hogwarts.”

There was silence for several minutes, whilst the conspirators thought.

Hermione broke the silence. “Neville.”

Ron looked at her and grinned. “Neville,” he agreed.

Severus was glad when Harry asked the question he was dying to, but couldn’t, without looking like an idiot. “What do you mean, Neville?”

Hermione threw him an irritated glance then explained. “It’s quite simple Harry. No one would be surprised if Neville had a freak accident in Potions that turned the contents of his cauldron into a truth potion. Not Veritaserum, because that could override the binding charm, something weaker. Severus can then make Draco test the potion and no one will suspect that he is being other than his usual bastard self. Result: one potion administered to the ferret.”

She was aware that the boys were looking at her in a slightly stunned way. “What?”

“You just called Professor Snape a bastard,” said Harry, breathless with admiration.

She smiled at Severus, and moved a little closer to him on the sofa. “I can call the man I love a bit of a bastard if I want; no one else gets to though.”

Severus, whose hackles had been up, found that this declaration disarmed him completely. He found this forbearance didn’t worry him as much as it should, even when Ron said cheerfully, “Don’t worry Professor, we won’t tell anyone differently.”

“Not if you want to pass your Potions Newt you won’t.” But Ron could tell his heart wasn’t in it, and merely grinned at him impertinently.

Some signal passed between Ron and Hermione, because he looked startled, then amused, before saying to Harry, “Come on, let’s go and find Neville and talk to him about this. I think he’ll need a lot of persuading and we’d better start early if we want to do it this week.”

Harry followed Ron to the door, and then turned back in surprise when he realised that Hermione wasn’t following them. He opened his mouth to speak, but fortunately realisation dawned before he managed to make himself look too stupid. He blushed bright red, stammered out a goodbye and left.

Ron rolled his eyes at Professor Snape, who tried very hard not to smile, and then shut the door.

“Alone at last,” sighed Hermione, leaning into him.

Severus looked at her a little nervously. It was probably a little early in the relationship to be able to say things like: I’m a forty year old man and not a sex machine, despite all evidence to the contrary over the last few days, and GODS I need to sleep, but please stay anyway.

“Severus,” she said, drawing his name out. “Did you mean what you just said?”

Damn it, he thought, give me a clue. Did I mean what?

Seeing his look of confusions, she explained, “About the worse thing that could happen to Malfoy was being forced to tell the truth.”

Ah.

Ooops.

He had, in a roundabout, sort of way, indicated that Slytherins were strangers to the truth, and he suspected that Hermione had strong views on the need for honesty in a relationship. So did he. Honesty was not the best policy, and that most relationships needed a certain amount of lying to survive. It was a lubricant that avoided friction, and allowed the couple to rub along together in relative harmony.

“Yes,” he said cautiously. He didn’t really want to have this discussion now; he was tired. Here it came.

“Because, of course, a relationship needs a certain amount of honesty to survive.”

He opened his mouth to disagree, when the presence of the qualifying word ‘honesty’ registered. Aware that his mouth was open, and that Hermione was watching him with amusement, he snapped it shut.

“Only a certain amount,” he ventured.

“I think so don’t you? I mean, if I ask you if my hair looks a mess the proper response is ‘not at all, dear’ even if it looks like a nest site for a flock of crows. But if I ask you if something’s wrong, you should tell me if there is.”

He nodded. He had underestimated her common sense. He took a deep breath and said, “Hermione, I want you to stay here with me, but can we please get some sleep because I’m knackered.”

“Thank god you said that,” she said, “I’m knackered myself. You’ve worn me out.”

He felt a faint tinge of pride. He’d sorted out the boys, arranged a necessary lesson in not-messing-with-the-Potions-Master for Draco, worn out a much younger lover, successfully side-stepped the issue of honesty, (note to self: never insult the hair), and was about to get some well-earned sleep, and then wake up rejuvenated to an armful of  Hermione.

On the whole, he really was rather good.

Chapter 4 >>