Fix You (Snamione) **On Going**

The Witch That Went Too Far

"Professor Snape?" Hermione called out as she entered his potion room, "Miss Granger." He acknowledged turning to face her, "I have some tasks for you, I wish for you to replenish some stocks of mine. I have 3 potions that I'm running low on in my stores; sleeping draft, confusing concoction and draft of the living death. And I have a small stack of 5th year essays for you to grade." He explained.

Hermione listened to his instructions intently and quickly got to work. "How long do I have, Professor?" She asked curiously, "take as long as you need there is no rush, I must leave as I wish to speak with Professor McGonagall about something." He nodded curtly and left Hermione to it.

Hermione began preparing the ingredients for the potions, she checked the potion stores and understood that she needed 2 vials of DOTLD, 3 sleeping drafts and 1 confusing concoction.

The first batch was brewing nicely, and Hermione stepped away to grade a few of the papers as she waited for the next stir. She was only 5 essays in when she realised she was being quite unkind with the marks she gave, but she knew Snape was testing her and she couldn't just give them all A's out of charity, some of the 5th years work were embarrassingly terrible.

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At least two hours had passed and she was only beginning the last potion on her list, she wondered to herself what on earth he had to discuss with Professor McGonagall for 2 hours, 'maybe they are having a secret love affair!' He thought to herself, and let out a small giggle.

"Is that a smile I just saw or do you have wind, Miss Granger?" A familiar voice drawled from the doorway. Hermione scowled in response at the headmaster causing him to smile at her, she had never seen him smile like that before. He looked... Happy?

"I apologise I took so long, I was going over plans for the memorial. I knew I could trust you to complete the tasks alone..." Snape explained.

"I'm just on the last potion Professor and then I will be out of your hair." Hermione explained coolly, returning to her new cold persona. She felt guilty for laughing or finding humour in anything. He sensed the internal conflict in her voice.

"You're not in my hair." He smirked looking over her shoulder at her handiwork.
Hermione froze as he combed her hair behind her ears to get a better view, his fingers still intwined in her tresses as he looked over her shoulder into the cauldron, his breathe warmly caressing her jawline.

"I think it's me that's in your hair..." He told the witch slowly, Hermione turned to scold him for his blatant sarcasm, but paused as her eyes met his. He brought his hand up to her face and traced it with his fingers, only stopping once the tip of his finger brushed her lips. "Hermione..." He whispered desperately.

Hermione brought her lips to his, she felt his stubble graze her chin.
She caught a grip of herself and pulled away quickly, noticing that he still had his eyes closed. She could still taste his lips..

"I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed in a state of panic, his eyes opened and he tried to grab her arm. "I have to go, I'm sorry." She apologised profusely and fled the room as fast as her legs could carry her.

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