Sev's Summer Fling Chs. 1-3

[daintress]

Chapter 1 - Errands

“Ah, Severus,” Professor Dumbledore said as the staff room door opened yet again. Although this was the third interruption, there was no hint of frustration in his voice. “May I introduce Professor Kimber Alderfer. She will be teaching Muggle Studies next term.”

Severus strode forward impatiently and shook the hand of the mousy-looking woman who stood beside the headmaster. She was nearly as tall has he, and he couldn’t help but notice the closed expression on her face. Yet another new Professor who had been warned against him, he supposed. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he get back to his dungeon as quickly as possible.

He sat silently throughout the meeting. It was only a week after the end of term, and Dumbledore was already discussing who would be next year’s prefects. Severus spoke briefly on behalf of Malfoy, knowing Lucius would be irate if Draco wasn’t chosen. Dumbledore appeared to realize this as well, and hardly heard anyone else’s arguments. This decided, Severus excused himself before they could start discussing the Gryffindors, which he knew was the very next order of business.

Professor Alderfer watched her new peers in silence. Her gaze lingered a bit too long on the Potions Master before she looked back at Dumbledore and she could swear the old man winked at her as a result. Luckily she was just tanned enough to be immune to all but the most embarrassing blushes.

The trouble began for Severus only three days later with a slight knock on his office door. “Yes?” he said testily, looking up from the lesson plan he’d been revising.

Professor Alderfer entered. He smirked as he noticed that she didn’t close the door behind her. ‘Probably concerned about keeping her exit route accessible,’ he thought. He saw no reason to ruin the reputation that preceded him so conveniently. “Well, what is it, Professor?” he snapped, not bothering to lay down his quill.

“The Headmaster asked me to fetch three leaves of devil’s snare from your store room,” she began hesitantly. He was pleased to note that she didn’t try to meet his eyes.

“It is the only other door off the classroom you just came through,” he replied smoothly, sounding as though this were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yes, I noticed that. However I’ve never seen devil’s snare and could use some help identifying the correct leaves.” She sounded penitential, and he smirked again.

“I see.” His tone was insulting enough to make her set her jaw stubbornly as he swept around his desk and into the storeroom. By the time she joined him, he already had the leaves in hand. He glared at her as she took them, mumbled her thanks and fled. Only then did he allow himself to smile. That was almost as much fun as scaring first year Hufflepuffs.

Only two days later, just as Severus was congratulating himself on managing to skive off another staff dinner, she knocked on his door again. He suppressed a sigh and invited her in as warmly as he had the first time.

He kept his expression neutral as she stood near the door. She obviously had no intention of approaching his desk a second time. “The Headmaster asked me to collect you to attend dinner,” she stated. This time she looked at him warily and he graced her with another smirk.

“Tell him I’m in the middle of an important experiment and cannot be disturbed.” Severus answered, looking back down at the cauldron of liquid that was only beginning to bubble on his desk.

“I’m not going to lie for you, Professor. That’s nothing but dreamless sleep potion. I can smell it from here. If you’ll follow me?”

Severus looked up in shock just as she disappeared back out the door. She spoke softly, but in this case with great authority. It wouldn’t do for her to tell Dumbledore that he’d lied to get out of dinner. For one thing he’d never get away with it again. He swore softly to himself and extinguished the magical flame with a wave of his wand before following her out the door.

By the time they reached the Great Hall, Severus was leading. She’d nearly taken them down the wrong passage twice before he’d brushed by her impatiently. Manners be damned! If he had to go to the bloody dinner he was, at least, not going to make a spectacle of himself by walking in late.

As he ate, he thought about the new Professor. She seemed to have no knowledge of Potions ingredients, though she recognized the dreamless sleep potion perfectly. He wondered what such an obviously talent-less witch could need that potion for anyway. She could not have been involved in the last war with the Dark Lord, as she was at least 4 years too young. She would still have been in school when he’d been defeated. He was surprised out of his thoughts when she spoke to him over Professor Flitwick’s head. The Charms Professor had long since ceased to mind such things and ignored them politely.

“Severus? When you finish that potion, might I have a flask?” She didn’t sound as nervous as he thought she should, and he nearly refused her. But at that moment he felt Dumbledore’s eyes fall on him. Perhaps it would be best not to annoy the Headmaster so early in the summer.

“Certainly, PROFESSOR,” he began, purposely reminding her that they were NOT on a first name basis, “though I shall likely not have it finished tonight,” his voice was tight, and his gaze remained on Dumbledore. The old man smiled at his discomfort and Severus narrowed his eyes before looking back down at his food. She had winced at his words and he felt an empty sense of victory, which soon wore off. He stood abruptly and excused himself. He finished the potion quickly and set a flask on the desk closest to his classroom door before retiring to his quarters. Perhaps the pesky woman would leave him alone for the rest of the evening.

He was pleased to make it through the rest of the week having seen her only once in Hogsmeade. He’d worried at first that helping her pick up the books she’d dropped would encourage her to interrupt him more often. However, thus far it appeared that she was as happy to leave him alone as he was to be left alone.

Just after dusk on Saturday evening he was forcibly reminded that the new Muggle Studies Professor was the least of his worries. He hurriedly Flooed Dumbledore to let him know that he would be gone, then ran quickly across the grounds, Apparating as soon as he passed the gates.

Chapter 2 - Flying Lessons

The night's festivities were remarkably tame, and he was grateful to get away without actually having to harm anyone for once. The planning session afterward was as painful as always, however. The Dark Lord was continually disappointed that Severus had not been able to identify the wards Dumbledore had put around the Potter boy's summer abode. Severus walked back from Hogsmeade with his back bent uncharacteristically, and his eyelids half closed.

He was surprised to find that his classroom was not empty when he returned. Professor Alderfer was startled as he yanked the storeroom door open angrily. He could plainly see that she'd been through just about every jar and canister he possessed. He didn't even ask, choosing instead to hold the door open for her and glare as she came back into the classroom, looking at the floor.

"Something I can help you find?" he said finally, realizing she would offer no explanation.

"I was looking for powdered root of Asphodel," she responded sullenly. This caused his eyes to widen a bit, though she didn't notice. "I found a rat in a trap and thought it would be the best way to make it stop squeaking."

If one of his Slytherin students had fed him a line like that, Severus Snape would have given the idiot a month of detentions. Coming from the tall, thin, and shy woman before him, however, it sounded pathetically plausible. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Even Gryffindors were above anything that sickeningly good-hearted. He silently classified her as a Hufflepuff as he put a pinch of the powder into a pouch and thrust it toward her.

"Now get out," he hissed angrily. She was so taken aback that she didn't even bother to thank him before she turned. For the first time, however, she let the classroom door slam behind her. As if Severus' head didn't ache enough already! He collapsed into his bed without bothering to undress and remembered nothing until late the next morning.

Over the next two weeks she came to the Potions classroom 8 times with requests from Dumbledore to bring him ingredients, and Severus was beginning to wonder what exactly the old coot was trying to make. He was also becoming increasingly annoyed at the interruptions.

When she knocked on his door for the 9th time, he closed his eyes briefly before muttering, "Come in," in the slick tone of voice he had learned from Lucius so long ago. The tone that meant anything but what the words said. She came in anyway.

"Pardon me, Professor," she began. But he cut her off.

"You are pardoned," he retorted, standing abruptly. "What exactly do you need this time?" He was already half way to the storeroom when she recovered from his outburst and spoke.

"The Headmaster doesn't need any ingredients today, so far as I'm aware." It was the smoothest voice he'd ever heard her use, and he turned, surprised.

"Well, what is it, then?" he asked gruffly. It wasn't often that he was prevented from venting his frustration, and he didn't find it very pleasant. Thankfully her demeanor changed immediately to one of discomfort.

"Madam Hooch will be going on sabbatical next term to play reserve chaser for the Chudley Cannons, and Dumbledore has informed me that I will have to take over flying lessons." She was looking at him expectantly and he raised an eyebrow.

"I fail to see precisely how that affects me, Professor," he said coldly, resuming his seat.

"I don't know how to fly," she whispered quietly. He was surprised. Even if she was Muggle-born, she should have learned how to fly at whatever school had trained her! Now at least he knew why she was here, though he didn't find himself inclined to do anything about it, unless it was to attend her first lesson with the Slytherins to see what they would do to her.

"Minerva tells me that your first year students will eat me alive if I show up for the lesson unprepared." He smirked at this comment, realizing that Minerva would have said exactly that. "Can you teach me?" she asked quickly, catching his eye.

He couldn't help but notice that she looked a little desperate. "Minerva played chaser on her House team in school. I'm sure she'd be a better choice," he said mildly.

"Don't you think I've already asked everyone else, you insufferable git?!" she retorted angrily. To hide his surprise, he plastered an amused expression on his face and gazed up at her as she continued. "Every soul among them has an excuse to avoid it!"

This statement set off warning bells in his head, and he made a note to speak with the Headmaster about it the next day. "Fine. I'll meet you on the pitch after lunch," he said quickly. "In the meantime, I'd like to finish writing this article. If you could manage to keep yourself out of my office until then?" he asked pointedly, glancing toward the door.

She turned and left silently as he smirked at his paper. The article had been finished long ago. He sent it off with one of the school owls a few moments later and ate lunch early so as to be on the pitch when she arrived, only just beginning to wonder how she'd gotten him to agree. Had he just been startled by her odd shifts in behavior?

After sorting through the school brooms, he came up with one that looked like it would obey her relatively well. He laid it on the ground as she approached, intending to use the same method of teaching that had been so successful for Madam Hooch.

She gave him a withering look and bent to pick it up, which put him in the satisfying position of explaining to her that she had to coax it into her hand from the ground. She managed to lift off slightly and touch back down with no problem, but when he mounted his own broom and bid her follow him up toward the goal posts, she seemed hesitant.

Only ten feet off the ground, she fell. He heard the thud as her body hit the ground, and was surprised when he turned to see her already standing, and looking at him furiously as her broom sailed away. He caught it before joining her on the ground.

He smirked at her, expecting a rousing argument. When all he got was silence, he forced a more pleasant look onto his face. Her glare diminished only slightly in intensity.

"Why don't you ride once around the pitch with me to get the feel of it before we try that again," he offered resignedly. Her features took on a look of deep distrust, and he realized that now would probably not be the best time to smirk at her again. Instead he tried to smile. Finally she walked over.

"Behind you or in front?" she asked quietly.

"In front. I can hold onto you that way. No sense in having you slip off the back again." She narrowed her eyes at the faint trace of humor that had crept into his voice before mounting the broom in front of him. He put his arms around her, holding the broom in front of her, and kicked off hard from the ground.

Although he'd never been on the Quidditch team, he did have a certain finesse when it came to flying. This was the first time he'd been on the pitch since last summer. He enjoyed the feel of the wind whipping through his hair, and the sun on his face, and the woman in his arms. It was several minutes before he admitted that to himself, however. When he did, he decided immediately that this segment of the flying lesson needed to end. Now.

"This is wonderful!" she said suddenly. Her hair, pulled as usual into a bun at the nape of her neck, was starting to come undone, and it fluttered back into his face as she spoke.

"Ready to try it on your own?" he asked, already heading back down.

"Not really," she replied, turning to look at him. When their eyes met he saw her eyes widen and her lips part suddenly, as if she was surprised. They both looked away, and Severus wondered exactly what she had seen in his eyes to make her respond that way.

"Actually, yes," she amended quickly. "I think I'll be fine on my own now, thank you, Professor." She pulled her hair out of the messy bun, removing a hand from the broom for the first time, and holding her hair out of his face as they descended.

When they landed she thanked him again and insisted that he go back up to the castle alone, saying she was sure she could manage from now on. As he went back to the dungeons he wondered at his own feelings. Surely until today he had felt nothing but annoyance at her presence in the castle. Yet, he did seem to recall thinking about her a great deal since he'd met her three weeks ago. It was becoming obvious to him that this was all Albus Dumbledore's doing, the meddling old fool! Sending her into his storeroom repeatedly, telling the rest of the staff not to teach her to fly, and having her fetch him before dinner, too. He was definitely going to speak to the Headmaster first thing in the morning!

Chapter 3 - The Scheme

But yet another surprise awaited him first thing in the morning. When he had dressed and emerged from his quarters, he found her sitting across from his desk, drumming her fingers impatiently.

Secure in his surroundings, he arched an eyebrow at her. "Fall off again?" he asked humorlessly. To his surprise, she smirked at him. He decided immediately to reevaluate his impression of her as a Hufflepuff. Hufflepuffs, in his experience, do not smirk.

"I have a proposition for you, Severus," she said, ignoring his question altogether. She stood and he very nearly took a step backward when he caught the calculated gaze she fixed on him. However, Slytherins don't back down.

"By all means, continue. It's been a long time since I've been propositioned." He smirked back at her, expecting, at the very least, a fetching blush. What he got was a roll of the eyes.

"Poppy was right, you ARE a conceited bastard, aren't you?" she asked quietly. "However, you aren't far from right."

Now he was really intrigued. He gestured for her to sit and lowered himself gracefully into his own chair.

"I can't be the only one who's noticed that Dumbledore is playing us both for fools. I don't want to lose my job by refusing to do as he asks, but I'm getting rather tired of running out of the dungeons with my tail between my legs." Severus found himself rather distracted by that comment and didn't answer, choosing instead to keep his smirk firmly in place. It required somewhat more concentration than usual.

"There's got to be a way to convince the conniving old codger that we don't need to be 'fixed up'," she continued, her eyes never leaving his. He raised an eyebrow again as she fell silent. It seemed apparent that she expected HIM to come up with a way to get Dumbledore to leave them alone.

He was just about to speak when he recalled that she'd offered him a proposition. He adjusted his thinking slightly and replied, "What do you propose?" He thought he saw her flinch a bit before she responded.

"I thought if his beloved Minerva caught us kissing once or twice it would be enough to pacify his match making inclination," her voice, so confident only a moment before, was now barely more than a whisper. She averted her eyes as she spoke.

In general Severus didn't like weak women. This sudden shift in behavior, however, had him intrigued all over again. In the last three weeks her demeanor had run the gambit from meek to domineering. Perhaps a little fun, no strings attached, was exactly the way to get to know her better.

"So you'd like to pretend we took the bait? For how long, exactly?" He gazed at her intently as her head snapped up.

"We could drop the act by the time the students arrived, I'm sure." She said confidently, a smile beginning to turn the corners of her mouth. "Perhaps even have a spectacular fight before the beginning of term to keep him from trying again?"

Severus was fast beginning to classify her as a Slytherin, and a bloody good one at that. He smiled and stood, holding out his hand for her to shake. "I'll let slip at breakfast that you’re teaching me to fly again today. Ten to one he'll send someone to watch, or come himself."

Severus nodded, knowing she was right. When she'd gone, he sat back down at his desk, his intended trip to the Headmaster's office was no longer necessary. Was she trying to continue whatever had happened between them on the broom yesterday? HAD anything happened between them? He wasn't sure. But he WAS sure that this was going to be a great deal of fun.

Before he went to the pitch, he made a trip to Hogsmeade and purchased his new 'girlfriend' a broom. For this little escapade he had no doubt that she would ride with him, but after the show was over, she would still need to get good at this before the beginning of term. And nothing would irk the Slytherins like being taught by a woman who rode a school broom.

He looked discreetly around the pitch as she approached. Sure enough someone was standing just inside the trees of the Forbidden Forest, watching. He could see sunlight glinting off the person's spectacles.

He winked at her as she entered the pitch and tried to look embarrassed as he presented her with the broom. He wasn't very good at acting embarrassed, but decided whoever was watching probably knew him well enough to be suitably impressed by the gesture.

She threw an adequate fit over the broom, but when she tried to ride it, it wove from side to side a great deal. Almost he wondered if she was making it do that on purpose. But he reminded himself that she'd fallen off one just yesterday. He mounted as well and guided her back to the ground before they took off again on his broom.

This time he took more notice of the woman before him. She appeared thin, draped in her lightweight, summer robes, but as his thighs hugged hers he realized that she wasn't the beanpole he'd taken her for. He readjusted his thinking abruptly as he realized that, regardless of their scheme, he was about to make them both very uncomfortable.

"Professor," he said, pulling the broom upward sharply and hovering a bit above the goal posts. "I'm embarrassed to admit that I can't remember your first name. I would feel remarkably awkward kissing you without knowing at least that much about you."

She turned on the broom with an odd look on her face. He wasn't sure if she was angry or amused.

"I didn't peg you for the sort of man who much cared where his lips had been, Severus," she said, obviously flaunting the fact that she remembered his name perfectly.

He took the teasing well, reminding himself that the audience was waiting. "Perhaps you're right," he allowed, smirking briefly before leaning forward to kiss her. He was surprised a moment later when she pulled forcefully away and back-handed him hard.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WAS THAT FOR?" he shouted, enraged.

"PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!" she demanded loudly, turning to face forward as though she could ignore him that way. He swore and drove the broom toward the ground in a surprisingly satisfying imitation of Potter. She shrieked loudly.

When he touched down she vaulted from the broom like a pro and glared at him. "You insufferable bastard! You can't even remember my name, and you go and KISS me?"

Severus walked toward her, still carrying his broom. She shook her head angrily and spun to leave, but he caught her wrist and pulled her back. It was obvious that she was playing along when her body pressed full against his. He hadn't pulled her THAT hard. He wished for an instant that she hadn't done that.

Nevertheless, he tossed his broom to the ground, snaked his arm around her waist and kissed her again. This time he was gratified when she kissed him back. She was hesitant at first, but soon she was holding him tightly. Distantly, Severus heard the crack that could only mean someone had Disapparated at the edge of the forest, obviously thinking they weren't paying enough attention to notice.

She ended the kiss immediately with a victorious smile. "I think we got him," she said, wiping her lip with her thumb.

"It certainly appears so," he said, keeping his voice cold to hide the grating disappointment that he knew he had no business feeling. He watched as she ran back to the pitch for her new broom. She thanked him for it again, and they walked back to the castle in silence. When he turned toward the dungeon staircase, she held him back, glancing around warily. This was a heavily traveled corridor and she knew it.

"My name's Kimber," she whispered. He saw a glint in her eyes that seemed new and wondered if his kiss had affected her just a tad after all. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps.

He whispered her name back to her and gave her a lingering, though not passionate kiss. Was that his imagination, or did she look a bit disappointed as he pulled away? "I'll see you tomorrow," he said. She only nodded and he managed to get to his office without having to talk to anyone.

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