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First Times: 5x2 (3/10)
Title: First Times: Snape 2, If At First You Don't Succeed
Logic dictates there must a first time for every experience. Knowing that doesn't necessarily make it any easier to get through. Severus and Spock each try 5 times. Hermione and Uhura help. (Not in the same fics, obvs,'cause I don't do crossovers.) Lightly humorous responses to an impromptu challenge inspired by an anti-First Times rant.
Pairing: Severus Snape/Hermione Granger
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: No one and nothing you recognise belong to me. All Harry Potter characters and concepts belong JK Rowling.
The pocket watch’s slow ticking taunted him.
His knees were like jelly, his bowels like water.
It was easier when he had someone else to blame; he admitted that quite freely. After he’d sealed his fate and exchanged one master for another, only to have his one bit of happiness extinguished, at least he’d had reproach and revulsion to stiffen his spine. But this time the choice had been entirely his own (not that there was any other worth considering) and he couldn’t wrap himself in a cloak of righteous hatred, or even numbing guilt, to hide what was happening.
She could have done, of course. It was perfectly in-keeping with her nature. Her pushy, pompous personality was perfect for playing suzerain to his serf.
But the only fealty she demanded was love — for himself as much as for her. Perhaps more for himself, even. In the end, his inability to comply had led to him to this moment.
There was nothing for it, then, but to start as he meant to go on.
He consulted his watch one last time before steeling his spine and entering a student-filled Hogwarts classroom for the first time since he'd failed to die.
A seemingly careless gesture caused the door to slam shut in his wake.
His robes billowing in what he hoped was a suitably impressive manner, he stalked up the aisle without acknowledging the staring eyes tracking his progress.
Silence pressed in from all sides.
At the front of the room, he spun on his heel. He stood there, wordlessly staring back at his audience, long enough to be certain their attention wouldn’t waver.
“You are here,” he began, allowing his softly voiced words to flow over the room’s inhabitants, “to study the delicate discipline and precise procedure for defending yourselves and others against the Darkest of magics.”
As they’d planned when deciding to buy the small cottage on Hogsmeade’s outskirts, he got home first. By the time Hermione arrived, looking slightly sleepy, he’d already measured and sliced all the necessary ingredients. She eyed with interest the pot bubbled ominously over a low flame, but said nothing before settling down at the broad table to watch him work.
“You’d think we hadn’t just finished a war seven years ago, for all those dunderheads charged with teaching ‘the next generation’ have done!” he groused.
When she failed to point out that at least two of those “dunderheads” were her closest friends — only nodded in sympathy, murmuring, “I’m sure you’ll do better, Severus” — he decided it was safe to go on.
“Of course, that will mean revising the entire syllabus.” A glance in her direction confirmed she was still listening attentively. Was that a smile tugging at her lips? “I mightn’t have much time to spare until it is complete.”
He turned and stalked from workbench to range. Tossing a handful of herbs into the mix, he stirred carefully until a fragrant aroma suffused the room.
She would help him ensure the needed changes would be made, of course. Her decisive, dauntless disposition made her perfect for playing paladin to his provocateur.
“You might have to learn to cook,” he said without looking away from his task.
“I expect I will,” she said, laughing as she came up behind him and wrapped her arms round his waist. “And I suppose you’ll have to teach me, then. After all, you are rather good at that.”
“Yes,” he agreed, turning in her embrace. “I suppose I am.”
Next Chapter
Snape's Next First
1 of 10
2 of 10
Logic dictates there must a first time for every experience. Knowing that doesn't necessarily make it any easier to get through. Severus and Spock each try 5 times. Hermione and Uhura help. (Not in the same fics, obvs,'cause I don't do crossovers.) Lightly humorous responses to an impromptu challenge inspired by an anti-First Times rant.
Pairing: Severus Snape/Hermione Granger
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: No one and nothing you recognise belong to me. All Harry Potter characters and concepts belong JK Rowling.
The pocket watch’s slow ticking taunted him.
His knees were like jelly, his bowels like water.
It was easier when he had someone else to blame; he admitted that quite freely. After he’d sealed his fate and exchanged one master for another, only to have his one bit of happiness extinguished, at least he’d had reproach and revulsion to stiffen his spine. But this time the choice had been entirely his own (not that there was any other worth considering) and he couldn’t wrap himself in a cloak of righteous hatred, or even numbing guilt, to hide what was happening.
She could have done, of course. It was perfectly in-keeping with her nature. Her pushy, pompous personality was perfect for playing suzerain to his serf.
But the only fealty she demanded was love — for himself as much as for her. Perhaps more for himself, even. In the end, his inability to comply had led to him to this moment.
There was nothing for it, then, but to start as he meant to go on.
He consulted his watch one last time before steeling his spine and entering a student-filled Hogwarts classroom for the first time since he'd failed to die.
A seemingly careless gesture caused the door to slam shut in his wake.
His robes billowing in what he hoped was a suitably impressive manner, he stalked up the aisle without acknowledging the staring eyes tracking his progress.
Silence pressed in from all sides.
At the front of the room, he spun on his heel. He stood there, wordlessly staring back at his audience, long enough to be certain their attention wouldn’t waver.
“You are here,” he began, allowing his softly voiced words to flow over the room’s inhabitants, “to study the delicate discipline and precise procedure for defending yourselves and others against the Darkest of magics.”
As they’d planned when deciding to buy the small cottage on Hogsmeade’s outskirts, he got home first. By the time Hermione arrived, looking slightly sleepy, he’d already measured and sliced all the necessary ingredients. She eyed with interest the pot bubbled ominously over a low flame, but said nothing before settling down at the broad table to watch him work.
“You’d think we hadn’t just finished a war seven years ago, for all those dunderheads charged with teaching ‘the next generation’ have done!” he groused.
When she failed to point out that at least two of those “dunderheads” were her closest friends — only nodded in sympathy, murmuring, “I’m sure you’ll do better, Severus” — he decided it was safe to go on.
“Of course, that will mean revising the entire syllabus.” A glance in her direction confirmed she was still listening attentively. Was that a smile tugging at her lips? “I mightn’t have much time to spare until it is complete.”
He turned and stalked from workbench to range. Tossing a handful of herbs into the mix, he stirred carefully until a fragrant aroma suffused the room.
She would help him ensure the needed changes would be made, of course. Her decisive, dauntless disposition made her perfect for playing paladin to his provocateur.
“You might have to learn to cook,” he said without looking away from his task.
“I expect I will,” she said, laughing as she came up behind him and wrapped her arms round his waist. “And I suppose you’ll have to teach me, then. After all, you are rather good at that.”
“Yes,” he agreed, turning in her embrace. “I suppose I am.”
Next Chapter
Snape's Next First
1 of 10
2 of 10