DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Prologue – A Fateful KissHermione was having a very good day. It was her birthday, her seventeenth birthday, and so far she'd received lots of presents. Of course, she didn't think that birthdays (and Christmas) were all about presents, but knew that love and friendship were the best presents one could get – but a first edition copy of 20th Century Potions still managed to make her heart speed up and her breath hitch in her throat.
Unwrapping the expensive book, she carefully examined the soft leather and the exquisite parchment.
"Hello, Earth to Hermione!" Harry waved his hand in front of her eyes, trying to get her attention, while Ron stared at him, not getting the Muggle reference.
"Hmm?" She didn't look up. She had wanted this book since the beginning of her sixth year. She had asked Professor Snape again and again to give her a pass for the restricted section of the library so that she could study it for her N.E.W.T. Advanced Potions class. Among seven other students, Hermione had chosen Potions as one of her N.E.W.T. classes, simply because she liked the subject and had hoped it would provide a bit of a challenge. And so far, the exacting Professor had not disappointed her, making the assignments more and more difficult until, at the end of her sixth year, she had to stay up one night in order to finish an essay. She had been thrilled.
"Hermione!"
"What?" she asked, finally looking up.
"I asked you if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade tonight, with Ron, Ginny and me," Harry said. "We want to celebrate your birthday."
"Sorry, I was a bit distracted, but of course I'll come," she said, still a bit absent. She opened the book and gasped. In Professor Snape's elegant handwriting was a short note written on the first page.
Miss Granger,
I hope now, that you finally own a copy of the book so obviously special to you, you will refrain from knocking at my door late at night because you feel you are not able to sleep without reading paragraph two of page 143 once again.
- Professor S. Snape
Hermione giggled. That was typically Snape. He spent more money than any reasonable person would, only to get rid of her.
"Hermione!" Ron said empathically. "I know it's your birthday, but I was trying to have a conversation with you."
Hermione looked at him, an apologetic look on her face. "I'm really sorry, Ron. I promise, I'll listen."
Ron eyed her suspiciously. She had her hand on the cover, protectively hugging the book to her chest. He could practically see her mind wandering off to whatever the book was about.
"It's only a book, Hermione!" he said, a bit miffed that she paid more attention to that stupid book than to her supposed best friend.
"It's not just a book! It's 20th Century Potions!"
She said the book title as if he was supposed to bow in front of the thing, her eyes shining with excitement. Ron just shrugged.
"Who sent it, anyway?", he asked.
"Professor Snape did," she smiled, opening the book again.
"Snape!" Ron echoed, although his tone was very different form Hermione's. "Whatever for?"
Hermione's head whipped around to look at him properly. She narrowed her eyes and snapped, "Ron, only because you don't have a sense for academics and literature doesn't mean that everyone has to be as ignorant as you are." She put the book into her bag, along with various other gifts she had received during breakfast. "And for your information, I respect Professor Snape" (-she put extra emphasis on his title-) "for his intellect and skill in potion making, and now, I'm going to thank him for the present he gave me."
Hermione stood up and wanted to turn towards the head table, but then saw that Professor Snape wasn't present yet. Determined not to sit down again, she stalked off towards the huge wooden doors that led out of the Great Hall in search of her teacher.
Just when she was about to step through the doors, she bumped into someone.
"Professor Snape!" she gasped. "I'm sorry. I wasn't looking."
"That much was obvious," he said, straightening his robes. He wanted to move on to his place, but found that his prize student was blocking the way. "You are standing in the way, Miss Granger."
"Sorry, sir. But I wanted to talk to you. About the book-"
"Miss Granger," the Potions Master interrupted. "I can only advise you to take the note seriously. I hope I will not see you in my chambers after hours again."
At his words, a couple of Ravenclaws sitting near them raised their eyebrows. Professor Snape glared at them.
"I'm sorry, sir. I promise I will not disturb you any more," Hermione said. She wasn't intimidated in the least, but that came probably from her euphoria. She still couldn't grasp the fact that she now possessed one of the best contemporary guides to brewing potions and testing their effectiveness. Her heart nearly stopped when she thought of the chapter about developing potions.
Maybe it was that thought that triggered it, maybe it was only one of those situations that people later said to be inevitable. But one way or the other, what was about to happen would change the lives of the two people who least expected it to happen.
"Sir, I just… I wanted to say… Thank you, Professor Snape," she said, and probably out of impulse, leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek.
The professor's eyes widened, and almost every sound in the Great Hall died away.
Hermione had expected Professor Snape to be furious. But he simply stared at her. Looking around, she found others staring, too. She frowned. "What-"
She was interrupted, once again, by her professor. He grabbed her arms and dragged her out of the Great Hall. He didn't let go until they were in the potions classroom. Snape pushed her towards a chair, gesturing for her to sit down, and started pacing.
"What have you done, you foolish little girl?" he asked finally, his eyes staring accusingly at her.
"What…?" Hermione was confused. "Well, I thanked you for a present, Professor."
"You kissed me!"
"On the cheek," she defended herself.
"Exactly!" he yelled, as if a quick peck on the cheek was worse than grabbing his privates in front of everyone.
"And only to say thank you," she continued.
"You really don't know, do you?" he said, and started pacing again.
"Know what?" She got more confused every minute. He didn't make sense at all, and it was Professor Snape, for Merlin's sake. He had to make sense. It was one of those Unwritten Laws of Nature that Snape knew the answer to every question, and made fun of everyone who didn't.
"Miss Granger, I'm afraid that, by the end of this month, you will be Mrs. Severus Snape."
End Prologue
A/N: This story, in case you didn't notice, is very ooc (even more so in later chapters) and partly very silly and unrealistic. Please ignore that, it's all for the sake of humour.
Apart from that, please not that this story is not beta-ed. If you detect major spelling and/or grammar mistakes, tell me and I'll fix it.
Additional Notes: I know I am writing "Less than Strangers" a the moment, but I've been hit by the curse of writer's block. I don't know if you noticed, but I've – parallel to this story – uploaded an MST of "I know what you did last summer" and I have several other ideas. I promise I will still work on LtS, but as of now, I can't. I'll have to wait till this block is over. I can, however, tell you that chapter eight of LtS will be very, very long (twice as long as the other chapters) and I will update in a few weeks (hopefully).
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