Author's Note: Hello, dear reader, I'm back with the sequel to A Failure to Communicate. I must thank EliHarmonyVolkes for beta-ing this story for me and giving me very honest feedback. I learned a lot from posting my first fic, so I hope my portrayal of Severus, Charity, and Harry remains consistent and rather amusing. If you are offended that Severus' life is now filled with sensuality and humour: 1) blame the muse and 2) read a more somber story. I hope this fic makes you laugh out loud, revs you up, and piques your ire. If it does, do let me know, dear reader…it does a writer good. Before I tell you to read on, I must make my disclaimer – while I have taken these characters on a journey, they are not mine, but J.K. Rowling's. I keep hoping she'll get it into her head one day to write Severus' backstory for all of us to enjoy. Since that work is yet to come from her pen, I give you mine. Allons-y!

Chapter 1 - Tea and an Attempt at Sympathy

Their lips parted, and Charity sighed deeply. For the first time in a very long time she felt completely free and uninhibited. Truly, she felt like she could fly. Her legs were wrapped around him as she sat on the edge of the counter in his small kitchen. He was pressing his hips into her and she could feel his reaction to their kiss on the inside of her thigh. The kettle was whistling, and the billowing steam made their already heated encounter even warmer. Severus rested his forehead on hers, his long dark hair falling around her face.

"I guess I should turn that off," he remarked.

Charity quietly laughed, meeting his eyes, "Yes, that would probably be a good idea."

Severus exhaled slowly, running his hands from her waist down to her hips. Stopping there, he backed out of her embrace, and turned toward the stove. He flicked off the burner and removed the copper kettle from the cast iron grate. Something told him they weren't going to be having that proper cup of tea that had been promised.

He looked at her carefully. Their kiss left her looking tousled, but gratified. The band that held back her thick, chestnut brown hair at the base of her neck was coming loose, leaving unkempt layers falling about her round face. She was attractive – though not in a stereotypical sense. Yet she had soft, full lips, large, sincere eyes, and she elicited a response from him that he had not felt in an embarrassingly long time.

"Severus, why don't you go check on Harry?" she asked, startling him out of his wandering thoughts.

The young wizard watched her as she gracefully slipped off the kitchen counter, straightened her jumper, and took out the loosened band from her hair allowing her shoulder length locks to fall freely. Instinctively, Severus reached out and pulled her toward him as he leaned against the stove. She didn't resist. Nestling into his arm and against his hip he raised his other hand to stroke her free-flowing hair. Placing his chin lightly on top her brown waves, Severus closed his eyes. He shuddered as Charity gently ran her fingers up along the buttons of his white dress shirt resting her palm on his chest. She felt his heart beating. It was racing.

"Severus."

"Yes?" he breathed into her hair trying to regain his composure.

"Harry."

"Right!" he exclaimed with a start.

Severus offered a light peck on the top of her head, released his hold, and headed toward the hallway.

As he walked he considered her request. It had become clearer to him with each passing week that his 11-year-old charge was never far from her mind. She had become attached to Harry and Harry to her. Severus could feel the gravity of their situation. It was becoming increasingly serious. Whatever the night held in store, nothing would be the same come morning.

Charity, for her part, needed a minute to catch her breath. The taste of his tongue, his earthy scent as his lips skimmed the side of her neck, and his slightly calloused hands lightly grazing her bare skin as they found their way up under her scoop-necked aubergine jumper were not helping her to remain circumspect. Sending Severus to check on Harry gave her the time she needed to think before things got out of hand. But she had to think fast. He would be back in just a few minutes.

It wasn't like Severus had ever made any grand declarations toward her. He had never told her that he loved her; he'd never even intentionally touched her until tonight. In contrast, she knew exactly how she felt about him – she'd known that for a very long time. Over 10 years later, no matter who she took to her bed, she had never stopped thinking about him, missing him, wanting him. But he was always guarded.

Charity knew that Severus' walls were partly his own making, but they were also due to circumstance. He was, first, a Slytherin. Then he was her professor (and possible Death Eater) while she was Head Girl. And now, he was her colleague in a boarding school where everyone lived on site. If this was a mere fling for him, some way for him to fulfill his own need and loneliness, and they got caught, they'd both get fired. Dumbledore was an understanding and patient wizard, but he would not tolerate blatant impropriety in front of his students. And what about Harry? Harry! Here was this child who so desperately needed to be loved and she was ready to provide exactly that. Ever since she and Severus found him in that damned broom cupboard at the Dursley's an overwhelming desire to protect the child mounted in her. And as each day passed, Harry began to feel like he was hers, though she knew he wasn't. He was Lily's son! Lily! Sweet, beautiful, perfect, brave, dead Lily! Charity scowled at herself. She was jealous of a deceased person! A woman Severus, even after all these years, was still in love with. And now he was watching over her young son. There was no way she would win a battle with her sainted memory.

Charity walked over to the fireplace and reached into the pocket of her jeans for her wand. Feeling foolish, she realized that she had left her most important defense mechanism behind in her rooms. What was I thinking? Ah yes! Severus had called, and she came running, even though it was almost 11 pm. And all he wanted when she got there was to share a cup of tea. She could have kicked herself! Why was she letting him make a fool out of her? If Minerva had seen her heading down to the dungeons at that hour, she would not have been impressed.

Yet somewhere in between putting on the kettle and making their usual pot of tea, sympathy appeared. And in that moment, everything changed.

Severus had asked her to fetch a teapot from the cupboard. She was annoyed with him for calling her at this time of night for essentially no reason, but being a glutton for punishment, she moved to the cupboard to get the pot while he fussed with measuring the perfect amount of tea leaves. Opening the cupboard door Charity reached up and found that the pot was just out of her grasp. She was about to call for him when he came up behind her and placed his hand lightly on the small of her back, reaching up with the other to take the pot down. Severus placed the pot on the counter but left his hand in place as if it belonged there. He added some pressure to his touch causing her to quake.

Desperately trying to appear composed, Charity spun toward him, eyebrow raised. "Did you do that on purpose?" she asked suspiciously.

"Do what?" he responded half-innocently, moving his hands to either side of her and resting them on the lip of the counter.

She eyed him closely. "Come off it, Severus! Your Slytherin ways cannot fool me."

"I do not know what you are talking about!" he objected smoothly.

"Then why haven't you moved?" she asked cocking her head to one side.

Severus paused and looked deeply into her hazel eyes. "Do you want me to?" he queried.

His breath was on her face and, suddenly, she couldn't breathe. Nor could she move. Charity swallowed hard, quickly casting her eyes downward. Here she was on the threshold of having one of her greatest wishes fulfilled and her body and brain appeared to be completely malfunctioning. She was not a Gryffindor! She was intelligent, rational, factual, dispassionate, clever, and articulate. She was not brave! If she had been, she would have forced his hand long before now.

Severus straightened and took one of her hands in his. Charity had made a study of his hands – his long, strong, and sure hands. She had imagined more times than she could count what those hands could do to her and now, when the moment arrived, she was scared out of her wits!

Recognizing her reticence, Severus placed a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze to his. "Do you want me to?" he whispered.

Charity inhaled and brought her hands up to his chest. Feeling the strength of his torso beneath her fingers, she grew bold. She raised herself up on to her tiptoes so that her lips almost brushed his and replied, "You know I don't!"

That was all he needed. Severus gently moved his hand to rest along her jawline and drew her body in close to his with his other arm. He didn't rush. What would be the point? He had waited a decade to kiss her. He brought his lips down to hers and smiled as she closed her eyes and let out a short, but contented moan. Slowly and deliberately he deepened their kiss, matching her every reaction. As their kiss picked up pace, Severus weaved the tips of his fingers in her hair as her arms snaked around his body. He held her face in his hands, and continued to kiss her passionately, a low growl of satisfaction emanating from his throat. Charity was crushed against him. Her breath was hard and her heart, utterly elated. Severus pulled away to catch his breath for a second. He smirked as her voice caught with longing and frustration at his abrupt departure.

He cocked his eyebrow at her while placing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, "Well, Professor Burbage, you look thoroughly kissed!"

Charity blushed. "So do you, Professor Snape!" she teased, swatting him on the arm.

Severus chuckled and then became quiet. He was running his hands up and down her sleeves in a methodical and sensual motion. Feeling like she might swoon, Charity backed further into the counter. She held onto the sides of his shirt, wondering what he was contemplating.

"A knut for your thoughts," she probed.

"Hmmm…" he replied thoughtfully, pursing his lips together. "Then again, maybe I'm not convinced."

"Not convinced about what?" she queried.

"I'm not convinced that you've been thoroughly kissed," he replied, seductively leaning into her.

"Oh yeah?" she asked suggestively. "Why is that?"

"Because I have yet to taste your tongue."

Charity couldn't help but smirk. Severus was flirting with her shamelessly. It looked good on him and it felt so good to her. Firmly, he placed his hands on her sides and lifted her up onto the edge of the counter. From her new position, Charity's hands slipped up Severus' shoulders and past his neck, her fingers burrowing in his long, dark, wavy hair. This time, she found his mouth, running her tongue along his bottom lip, making him hitch. This time, he opened up to her. She explored him, her tongue lightly meeting his. At first her movements were tentative, but then deft, and slow, and impassioned. Charity drew back, her hands now resting on his backside. There was fire in her eyes and in her belly as she pulled him closer to her, nestling him in between her thighs. He ground into her as their mouths met and renewed their rhythm.

Severus pulled his lips from hers, slowing down their frantic pace. Leaving one hand along her jaw, Severus allowed the other to creep up underneath her jumper toward her now tender breasts. Grazing his fingers over the lace of her bra, he placed soft kisses along her jawline. Charity sighed loudly and tilted her head back, exposing her neck and collarbone to him. He obliged her silent request, gently kissing the baby soft skin beneath her chin, while his fingers moved around her back to the clasp of her bra. Brushing his lips up toward her ear, and stopping to stroke her earlobe with his tongue, Severus gave her lobe a little tug with his teeth. Charity gasped, her eyes flying open. It was all too much, and too good, and she was already very wet. Something had to give.

Blast! The kettle!

How could things not change after their kiss? If it hadn't been for the kettle releasing steam, she'd have been in Severus' bed momentarily stark naked and writhing blissfully, albeit foolishly, beneath him. Charity paused at that thought and shook her head. Slow down, Burbage!

Charity knew she needed to get a grip. She could just leave, but truthfully, she had no desire to. What she wanted was to know what he was thinking and where this was going – assuming it was going somewhere. Although she knew what he was and what he'd more than likely done in the past as a "servant" of the Dark Lord, she didn't care. A sharp chill ran up her spine. Ok, maybe she did care. That was definitely something else to consider, but not at this very moment. Right now she needed another means by which to warm up his damned damp dungeon.

Stooping down and feeling more than a little helpless without her wand, Charity placed a very dry log onto the fire grate.

"Sometimes you simply have to do things the 'ol Muggle way!" she said to the open hearth. Reconsidering her statement, Charity scoffed and added, "Or not!"

She looked intently at the logs and whispered "Incendio" at the wood. Instantly they caught fire. The flames sputtered and cackled for a moment, but quickly began to grow, offering her all of their blue and orange heat. She wrapped her arms closer to her body and stared into the flames. She loved fire. She loved its power, its beauty, and the danger it could unleash. Severus was like fire. If she wasn't careful, she was liable to get burned. Rising up from her haunches, Charity stepped back and plopped down on the couch, resting her feet on Severus' coffee table. She knew what she had to do.

Severus had been watching Charity for a few minutes. She obviously didn't realize he was standing there as her every thought was being expressed in her eyes and in her movements. He knew exactly what she had been thinking as she brushed her fingers against her lips, running them down her neck, and into the tangles at the base of her head.

Standing in the glow of the firelight, Severus took note of her figure as she fell onto the sofa. He supposed it was normal for the Professor of Muggle Studies to wear Muggle clothes, but he would have been lying if he had said that they did not look good on her – especially those curve-hugging blue jeans. Though she would definitely look better out of them. Severus shuffled his feet at that thought, bringing Charity out of her reverie. Turning toward him, Severus saw the impenetrable, almost distant expression on her face. Quietly Severus took a deep breath and walked into his sitting room.

If he were honest, he knew he deserved her cold-shoulder. He had been forward with her without being clear of his intentions. But he hadn't been intending anything, at first. When he allowed his hand to linger on her back, Charity rightly guessed, and he couldn't deny what she thought he was doing. It was just that the moment had finally presented itself, so he took it. And after their palpable reaction to one another, he'd be damned if he wouldn't take that chance again. But how was he to get her back into a snogging frame of mind? Charity didn't allow him to finish his machinations.

"How's Harry?" she inquired.

"Dead to the world," he replied with relief.

Charity smiled quickly and nodded, "That's good."

Severus saw the turn in her mood at his mention of Harry and stepped over her legs to sit down across from her on the large oak coffee table set in front of the settee. He tapped her feet with his index finger silently requesting that she put them down. She complied, allowing him an open stance. Cautiously, Severus placed his hands on her thighs. He applied some pressure to his touch and then ran his fingers gently up to the hem of her sweater. Charity didn't resist but gazed steadily at his ministrations.

"Now, where were we?" he asked softly.

Before his lips could find hers and before she lost all sense of reality once again, Charity brought her hands up to his chest and stopped his kiss. Severus closed his eyes and groaned. He was too late! He'd given her too much time to think. Damn it!

Knowing exactly what he was thinking, Charity rolled her eyes.

"Seriously, Severus?" she exclaimed, eyebrows raised, "It's not like we don't have all night!"

"All night, you say?" He quipped with a seductive grin.

"I did not mean it that way! But yes, Sev, a-l-l ni-g-h-t!" she retorted, emphasizing each consonant. Seeing his reaction to her immodesty, Charity shrugged flirtatiously, "Maybe every night, depending on how this conversa…"

Severus cut her off, shaking his head in bemusement.

"You just called me Sev."

Charity faltered and began to back away. "Oh, I…I'm sorry. That was much too familiar of me."

Severus took her hands before she could move even further away from him and held them securely.

"It's ok," he replied, "It's just that nobody has ever called me that. Not even my parents. Nobody, except…" He stopped.

"Except Lily." Charity finished his thought.

Severus looked away, pain creeping up into his eyes. Yes! Lily!

Charity was vexed! She wanted to scream. Throw things. Slap him! Why couldn't they get away from this woman? More importantly, why couldn't Severus? Her eyes began to glisten and before he could see her tears, Charity ripped her hands from his, stood up, and strode toward the door.

Severus remained seated but turned to watch her go.

"Where are you going?" he entreated, anguish filling his voice.

The young witch stopped short. What was that tone? Was it for me or the dead women? Charity exhaled, swallowing her pride. She needed to find out, for herself and for Severus. After everything they had been through recently, they owed each other that much.

Feeling her tears recede, Charity turned back toward him.

"Severus," she said as calmly as possible, "I won't go. At least…not at this very moment."

Severus swiveled toward her and held out his hand, but she remained in place. He dropped his hand like lead, resignation written all over his face.

"Severus."

He refused to look at her. She tried again.

"Severus. Look at me! Please!" she pleaded.

He jerked his head up and scowled.

"Don't give me that look!" she snorted. "If this, whatever this is, is going to go anywhere, you and I both know we need to have this out!"

Severus crossed his arms in front of his chest, and shrugged, pointing his chin and an elbow to the armchair by the fire.

"Fine," she replied. "I'll sit. But you have to promise to answer my questions and tell me the truth."

Severus resisted rolling his eyes at her. Instead he shook his head in agreement. He rubbed a hand over his eyes and then against the stubble on his cheek.

"I need a drink!" he declared.

Getting up to fetch his single malt fire whiskey, Severus refused to look at Charity. If she was angry, he was similarly frustrated – on so many levels! How did this night go downhill so quickly? They had fought before, but never like this. They also had never kissed until tonight. Was this going to happen every time they kissed? Oh Gods! He was going to be so tired tomorrow morning and not in the way he had begun to hope.

Returning to the sitting room, bottle in hand, Severus leaned down and slammed two tumblers onto the oak table. He poured two shots, grabbed one and raised it to Charity.

"Salut!" he declared.

Tossing the amber liquid back he grimaced as the burning sensation violently gripped his insides and then slowly abated. He handed Charity her share and poured himself another shot. He had never seen her drink fire whiskey, but at that moment, he didn't care. They both needed something to take the edge off.

Charity raised her glass to him and followed suit. The burn was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Charity sputtered, choked, and coughed, unable to hold back the tears from her eyes. She couldn't catch her breath and to her surprise, began to hyperventilate. Severus' eyes filled with panic as he quickly placed his now empty glass down and knelt before her.

Grabbing her shoulders firmly, he said, "Breathe, Charity. Just breathe. It'll pass."

Gradually her convulsions ceased, and her breathing normalized. Severus brought his hands to her red, puffy face and wiped the tears that had fallen with his thumbs.

"Muggle liquor burns, but not like that!" she exclaimed, nuzzling, slightly, into his touch.

Severus dropped his hands and laughed heartily. Charity, however, was indignant.

He tried to grab her hands, but she recoiled.

"Come on, you silly thing!" he cried. "Don't be mad. That was amusing."

"It most certainly was not!" she retorted with a pout, arms crossed over her chest.

"Yes it was! It's not like you were going to die. And if you were," he stopped, suddenly becoming serious, "I wouldn't let you."

"Ha! Famous last words!" she scoffed.

"No, Charity, honestly, I wouldn't."

"You wouldn't?" she inquired with surprise.

"No. I wouldn't," he said quietly. Severus looked away.

Charity groaned and closed her eyes, "Gods' Severus! Is this about Lily Potter?"

Just as the words came out of her mouth, Severus' antique Muggle clock chimed. It was midnight.