Disclaimer: The characters, settings, etc. of the Harry Potter series are not mine. I just play with them.

Severus liked to regard himself as the epitome of self control.  Years as a Death Eater had trained him well, better than any military camp could have.  Severus knew how to say no, he knew how to take control, and he knew exactly how to handle himself in every situation.

Self control, he decided, was very important quality for chaperones of the Yule ball to have.  As much as Severus enjoyed watching hundreds of miscreants squirm against each other, it took all of his power not to deduct points as he looked on. 

Some of the students were quite obviously smashed.   Some of them apparently had very little control over their hormones.  Others were quite lonely, it seemed.  They sat alone at tables in the Great Hall and made pitiful faces at their dancing peers.

He inspected the students seated at the table.  Most of them were, sadly, his better ones.  He felt sorry for them.  He knew what it was like to be shunned by the members of the opposite sex simply because they were intimidated by genius.

Severus raised an eyebrow as he eyes landed upon the sole occupant of one of the tables.  The table was hidden in the shadows. All of the floating candles occupied the space above the dance floor, and her table was too far from the floor for her to obtain much use of their light.

Using the perimeter of the room as his path, Severus stalked over to the table where she sat.  She did not notice as he crept up from behind.

"Good evening," he said softly as he came to stand directly behind her.  He saw her back stiffen in surprise.

"Hello, Severus," she replied, but made no effort to turn and look at him.  "Won't you have a seat?"

Severus sneered at her offer, and was sad that she did not see it.  It had been one of his better.  He sat beside her anyway.  "Enjoying the festivities, Professor?"

She shrugged in response, tucking a frizzy curl behind her ear.  "I just keep wondering if I looked like them when I was younger."  She gestured to the dance floor.

Severus followed her gaze and nearly laughed.  He did not remember what she had been like at the Yule ball, but he could imagine what her behavior had been.  "I'm sure you more closely resembled yourself now: sitting in the dark all alone while Potter and Weasley writhed against some of our more intellectual young women."

He was surprised to hear her laugh.  He was sure he meant to insult her, not amuse her.  "If I recall correctly, I was the only one of the three who had a good evening."

Severus frowned when she turned her brown eyes on him.  He was very disappointed to see them lit up with enjoyment.  "Did I ever tell you how much I value our time together, Professor?" he asked, hoping his sarcasm would offend her and rid her eyes of that joyful shine.

"It certainly becomes evident by the number of insults you throw at me," she paused to grin at him.  "I think your record high is about twenty.  I certainly felt the love that day."

Severus sneered.  "And what day was that Miss Granger?"

"My last as your student," she replied before turning her attentions back to the dance floor.

Severus remembered that day quite well.  The end of her seventh year had been a bit anti-climatic for that class of students.  They had all seemed to predict they were going to go out with a big bang, and when that did not come, they resorted to creating their own fireworks.

His last class of seventh years had been double potions with Gryffindor and Slytherin.  It had started out quite well.  The students were particularly well behaved, taking their exams quietly.  When they finished they all handed in their papers and seated themselves without causing the slightest bit of disturbance.  The only behavior that seemed a bit out of place was their almost choreographed and regular checking of the dungeon clocks.  He had attributed it to their eagerness to be out of his classroom.  He was sure that they were simply looking forward to never having to see him again.  If someone had asked at the time, he would have admitted that he was looking forward to their leaving too.

There had been about thirty seconds until dismissal time when all hell broke loose.  He didn't remember much of what happened.  Just, namely, that Malfoy had started going off on Potter and hexes started flying.  He remembered vaguely stepping forward to stop it all when one misdirected curse hit him, sending him flying backwards, and knocking him out cold.

When he came to, he was in his own chambers, lying on his own bed.  His head was killing him, and he could feel a damp cloth resting on his forehead.  Someone was sitting beside his bed, watching him.  He looked at the figure and frowned as she had come into focus.  "What are you doing, Miss Granger?"

"Taking care of you, Professor," she'd replied simply.  "The headmaster told me you would appreciate it."

That was when he had begun insulting her.  He hadn't stopped until she had left his quarters hours later when she was satisfied that he had returned to his usual self.

He had hated her for caring.

"That was a very long time ago, Professor," he said softly after a few moments of reverie.

"Yes, well," she paused, "you said some very choice words, Severus."

"I was ill, Miss Granger.  I imagine that if you were knocked unconscious by two unruly students only to wake up with a seventh year who had not been shy about making eyes at you playing nursemaid to you, you also would have been slightly irked."

She shrugged.  "Not if you were playing nursemaid."

Snape made no effort to hide the fact that he was flustered.  "Professor Granger, that is hardly conduct suitable to a teacher at this institution!  Do you think that I would ever say such things to a coworker?"

"If you did you might actually get some, Severus.  I'm sure you could use a good lay."   She did not even bother to look at him.  He could not believe it.  When had she become his equal?

He thought for a moment before responding.  "So, could you, I imagine.  I have noticed you looking a bit too longingly at some of the seventh year boys."

She laughed outright at this, and he glared at her profile.  How dare she bounce back from his insults and laugh so coquettishly!  How dare she point out that he needed sex and make him ponder whether or not she would be an agreeable partner!

"They aren't the ones I am looking at longingly, Severus."  She turned to face him.  "I've been looking at the same man in that manner for many years."

He felt his cheeks flush.  He refused to let her take control.  He was always in control.  Always, always, always. 

"And what of it, Miss Granger?  Did he spurn you, sending you off to a life of loneliness and teaching?  Or worse," he paused to sneer for dramatic purposes, "did he take you and then leave you, breaking your heart beyond repair in the process?"

She shook her head slowly, still smiling at him.  It was as if he could not win!  "I'd have preferred either of those to the current situation, Severus.  He is so dense that I do not think he really has even the slightest notion of my feelings for him."

He gave his coldest chuckle.  "Well, yes.  The youngest Weasley male was always a bit of a moron."

He was surprised when she sighed in a manner that displayed some exasperation.  "Why are you convinced that I am harboring romantic feelings for Harry or Ron?  Why can't I be attracted to anyone else, Severus?  Why must you be so damn certain that I have convinced myself that they are the men for me?"

Severus shuddered at her reference to them as men.  "Because Miss Granger, you hardly give any other man a single thought.  Your attentions make it quite obvious that you are romantically attached to one, if not both, of them."

"Severus!" she exclaimed, quite loudly, and stood up.  He looked around quickly to see if anyone had noticed.  Thankfully they had not.  The chaperones still looked on at the children with amusement and the children still continued to grind against each other. 

Finally he turned his gaze on her, and watched expectantly. "Yes, Professor?"

"You said it yourself!  I spent most of my seventh year making eyes at you.  You're not an idiot, Severus.  You're far from it, in fact.  But sometimes you are so oblivious that I wonder if you're worth the trouble.  I have been making eyes at you for years, Severus.  I have made discreet passes, and I have some fairly conspicuous ones, too.  Nothing seems to work with you!  So what am I supposed to do?  Show up in your rooms one night and pounce?"  When she stopped speaking, he noticed her breathing had become considerably more labored.  He really hoped she did not plan on fainting.

He considered her words before responding.  Surely, it would be quite pleasant to wake up to her pouncing on him.  And she was a very pretty woman which would probably make it all the more agreeable.  He had entertained fairly unprofessional fantasies about her a few times.  Now that it had been brought to his attention quite clearly that she had similar feelings for him, he did not know what to do.  She had given him control of the situation by demanding an answer, but Severus was at a complete loss.  He had no idea what to do or say.  He decided to go with whatever chose to tumble out of his mouth.

"Aren't I a bit old for you, Miss Granger?  Surely my experience and past exploits would put a strain on our relationship?"

He simply watched as she gave an annoyed groan, leaned forward and grabbed his face with her hands.  Her hands were quite small, he noticed, but held onto him quite well.  He stared as she leaned forward and pulled his face towards hers. 

He did not really expect her to kiss him, but he wasn't exactly disappointed when she did.

It was a nice kiss.  He made the appropriate responses to her actions.  He liked how she paid particular attention to his bottom lip.  He liked that she was a bit hesitant to slip her tongue into his mouth, and was particularly pleased when she seemed to abandon any trepidations and simply went to it.  He enjoyed the fact that there seemed to be a fair bit of passion fueling her endeavor.  He liked it very much, actually.  He could not recall the last time an attractive woman had kissed him with such fervor.

Thus, he was quite disappointed when she pulled away.  She relinquished her grasp on his cheeks and settled into her chair once more. "Professor," she said after they had spent a few moments regarding each other.  "Can I make myself any clearer?"

He snorted.  "Obviously, you could, Miss Granger.  You are yet to pounce." 

She smiled at him.  Had he gained control?  "Yes, well, just give me time," she replied and turned her attention back to the dance floor.

"Exactly how much time will you require, Miss Granger?  I am not getting any younger and if you wait too long it may become very likely that I will injure my back while partaking in, er, certain activities."  

She turned her head to glower at him.  "I will be ready as soon as you are ready to call me Hermione, and treat me like an adult and not some student whose grade lies in your hands."

Severus sneered at her, hoping it would buy him some time while he thought of a retort.  "Fine then, Hermione," he began, placing a rather acidic emphasis on her name.  "May I ask if you would be interested in joining me in my offices after the dance for a glass or two of firewhiskey?"

He watched as Hermione narrowed her eyes and stared at him for a moment or so.  After she had inspected him to her satisfaction, she offered him a small smile.  "Why, yes, Severus.  That would be quite pleasurable, I think."

He nearly smiled at her, but caught himself just in time.  "Well then, Hermione," he said, standing from his seat.  "I will see you after the dance.  I hope you enjoy the rest of this evening's festivities."

"Thank you, Severus," she said, and nodding he turned to walk away.  "I know that at least part of the evening will be quite satisfying."

Severus smiled as he continued to walk away from her.   She would see just how satisfying it would be.   Returning to the post he had vacated earlier, Snape continued to smile to himself.  It was quite wonderful to have self-control, but it was quite nice to occasionally lose control.

He imagined he would discover just how nice it was in a few short hours.