Disclaimer:J.K Rowling owns the universe of Harry Potter. I am merely borrowing a few things here and there ^_^
Author's Note:My first HP and SS/HG story. Post-Voldemort fluff set in Hermione's 7th year. Also a response to 2003 Valentine's Day Challenge on WIKTT (One Room - Survival Pack) created by Autumnmist, SilentG, and pigwidgeon37
Given The Chance
Chapter One: Trapped
"Miss Granger, I assure you," Professor Severus Snape hissed impatiently with his arms crossed over his chest. "The wall is solid and will not disappear, no matter how long you stare at it." Hermione felt her cheeks redden with humiliation as she swerved her head to glare at her Professor. It had only been five minutes since they had stumbled into the tiny four-wall room, and she was about ready to pluck his eyes out.
"Well, your sulking will do us no good," she shot back with black eyes immediately widening at her daring, and she turned away to face the wall once more as she bit her bottom lip in nervousness. It would be any second now before he-
"Ten points, Miss Granger!" Snape growled, his silky voice dripping with anger. "Don't think that just because we are now trapped in…wherever we are, you have the right to talk to me in such an impertinent manner." He glared at the back of her head of bushy brown hair, but she would not turn around. Instead, she ran her fingers across the cold, rough surface of the brick wall in front of her. They had immediately tried all types of different spells on the walls when they had fallen into the room, but nothing seemed to bring about an opening of some sort to let them out. Things didn't look any better when they had tapped their wands in all directions across the bricks, hoping beyond hope that there would be an enchanted wall, much like the one in the walled courtyard in the back of the Leady Cauldron that led to Diagon Alley. When that failed, they then proceeded to try to physically push through the walls, but it was useless. They were stuck there, for how long, they did not know. That fact alone was grating on both of their nerves, and Hermione pressed her lips to a determined line. In order to survive through the ordeal, they had to learn how to survive with each other first.
"My apologies, sir," she whispered, finally backing away from the wall, and turning, she slumped against it, lowering herself until she was sitting on the floor with her knees drawn to her chest, her arms wrapping around her legs.
Snape studied the young woman as she lay her chin dejectedly onto her knees and he sneered at her. "You are forewarned. I will not tolerate any more disrespect," he barked. "Do you understand me, Miss Granger?" Not trusting herself to speak, the young Gryffindor merely gave a nod as her Professor muttered under his breath as he wandered around the room.
How did I ever end up here with the greasy git,she thought to herself, sneaking a glance in his direction. It had happened all so suddenly, before she had any idea of what was going on. It was another quiet Potions class, and Snape had assigned them a rather difficult potion to brew: a Consilium potion, designed to enhance the drinker's ability to absorb information. If drunk prior to reading a book, one would be able to retain all the information and details; it gave a person momentary photographic memory, and it was a potion Hermione was keen on brewing perfectly. She recalled handing Neville a flask of infused powdered root of asphodel and elephant tear drops when there had been a loud, explosive bang behind her, and brown had met black when her eyes locked with Snape's just as he reached her side during his rounds around the classroom, and suddenly the two of them were falling, tumbling down a dark chute only to land in the room they now found themselves trapped in.
And they were stuck there with no idea of how to get out.
Hermione groaned inwardly. Out of all the professors, it just had to be Snape, the one teacher who was not impressed at all by her brilliance, her intelligence. It just had to be the one teacher whom she felt hated her very existence because of her friendship with the Boy-Who-Lived, more recently known as the Boy-Who-Killed-You-Know-Who. She studied Snape as he stalked this way and that in his graceful manner, his scowl cutting deep ravines into his weary face. It unnerved her, really, that her stoic professor was pacing, his black eyes betraying his nervousness; if Snape was worried, then it made Hermione ten times more so. It was only on very few occasions that Snape ever showed his anxiety, and it was not a good sign that now was one of those times.
"Shit." The hissed word startled Hermione out of her thoughts, and she straightened as she looked at her professor curiously. He glowered at her look, one which he had seen far too many times in his classroom whenever he asked a difficult question. He bit back a cutting remark and explained instead, "I can't apparate. There is a good chance we are still at Hogwarts, maybe somewhere deep below the dungeons."
"How do you know for sure?" she asked eagerly before she could stop herself and was rewarded with Snape's trademark scowl, but he frowned as he tried to answer her, and after a few more seconds, his shoulders drooped very slightly, but they drooped nonetheless.
"I hope we are," he replied simply, turning his back to her to face the opposite wall before she could see the flash of vulnerability in his countenance. He continued his pacing around the room, never once daring a glance in his student's direction, and Hermione let out a small, almost inaudible sigh.
The best they could do now was wait for someone to find them.
TBC…Next chapter should be up in a week or so ^_^
Here are the rules of the challenge:
One Room - Survival Pak:
1. Hermione and Snape are stuck in one place for 27 hours. Where and how are your choice!
2. Filch makes an appearance.
3. Someone has to burble incoherently.
4. Handcuffs have to be mentioned in the story.