~*~
During the Middle Ages, the Charisma Amour Potion was the traditional gift given by a Potions brewer as an offer of courtship. While not difficult to brew, the prohibitive cost of the ingredients and the stamina necessary to brew the potion was proof that the brewer was financially stable and of good health and abilities.
~*~
The small phial of potion in the pocket of Hermione's robes seemed to give off a subtle heat, even though she knew that was impossible. She was nervous, and it was only her imagination playing tricks on her. She cast a sidelong look at the empty seat to her left and sighed. Severus was late for dinner, which wasn't helping her nerves at all.
"I'm surprised to see you here tonight. It's Severus's birthday, isn't it?" Pomona Sprout settled into her seat on Hermione's right. "I expected the two of you to be out celebrating."
"No," Hermione answered. "He didn't want to leave Hogwarts on a school night."
"He's never liked it when any of us to call attention to his birthday." Pomona paused and made a happy sound as roast beef and sautéed mushrooms suddenly appeared on her plate, but then she gave Hermione a sly look. "However, I felt certain he'd make an exception for you."
Hermione smiled faintly but turned her attention to her own plate without replying. The nature of her relationship with Severus Snape was a source of constant speculation by the rest of the staff, but none of them had the courage to come right out and ask about it, something that amused Severus greatly.
Severus had returned to Hogwarts to teach Potions after his release from St. Mungo's, and three years later, Professor McGonagall had hired Hermione to teach Charms when Professor Flitwick retired. To Hermione's surprise, she'd slowly become friends with Severus, finding his acerbic nature and black sense of humour far more appealing as an adult than she'd ever found it as a child. In the past few months, their friendship had evolved, and to Hermione's delight, Severus had proven to be an inventive — and very thorough — lover.
A few weeks ago, Hermione recognised that her emotions had evolved, as well. She was falling in love with Severus, but her repeated attempts at delicately making her feelings known had failed. Finally, Hermione realised that both she and Severus had such limited experience with romance that it was akin to the blind leading the blind. He teased her regularly about her "Gryffindor lack of subtlety", so she balked at simply blurting out her feelings. It was only when she'd shopped for Severus's birthday present that she'd discovered a possible solution. His copy of The History of Potions had been read to tatters, and she'd purchased a new copy as a gift. There, in the section entitled "Potions Throughout the Middle Ages", Hermione had found a description of the Charisma Amour Potion. As wizarding society had evolved, the potion had fallen out of favour and into obscurity, but Hermione had no doubt that Severus would know the potion and its meaning.
~*~
The potion required the brewer to stir the potion continuously for twenty-four hours. Magic used in the brewing process would result in a failed potion; therefore, charming a stirring rod to complete the task was impossible.
~*~
The ingredients had been horribly expensive — the equivalent of three months' salary — but Hermione hadn't hesitated. It would be worth it in the end.
She'd brewed the potion in her old bedroom to keep it secret from Severus, using the excuse of visiting her parents. Hermione had been exhausted when she'd completed the brewing, but the crystal phial now in her pocket contained a beautiful, shimmering potion.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Severus swept past and took his seat with a scowl.
"Bad day?" Hermione asked.
He hissed through his teeth. "One of the second years melted his cauldron and the table underneath. I'm uncertain which combination of ingredients the dunderhead used to turn a simple Swelling Solution into an acid with the consistency of glue, but it took longer than I anticipated to clean and repair the classroom."
"I'm sorry you've had a trying day," Hermione said. She slipped her hand into her robes pocket, fingertips stroking the phial, and her determination wavered. Perhaps this wasn't the best time to give him the potion.
No. She mentally squared her shoulders. If she waited, she'd lose her nerve completely. The Charisma Amour would go to waste, and she still wouldn't have told Severus how she felt. It was now or never, and she took a deep breath to steady her nerves.
"I have a gift for you." Smiling, Hermione quickly pulled the phial from her pocket and placed it on the table in front of Severus. "Happy birthday."
~*~
The Charisma Amour's distinctive scent of honey and nutmeg combined with its deep violet colour made it impossible to mistake for another potion, and it was customarily presented to the brewer's paramour in a public setting as another sign of serious intent. To signal that she accepted the brewer's suit, his paramour would drink the potion immediately upon receiving it. To refuse to drink the potion was also to refuse the brewer's attentions.
~*~
Severus's eyebrows shot up, and he picked up the phial, long fingers turning the faceted crystal as he held it up to eye level. Candlelight reflected through the potion, throwing violet sparkles across the table. Heart pounding, Hermione was aware that the other staff members were now watching them curiously, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from Severus.
He removed the stopper and lifted the phial to his prominent nose. His eyes widened, and he turned his head to give her a long, measuring look.
"Hermione," he said softly, "I can't—" He stopped speaking, and his gaze slid past her, down the high table and to the other staff members, who were openly listening to their conversation. His mouth tightened, and he frowned. Abruptly, he replaced the stopper and slipped the phial into the pocket of his waistcoat.
Hermione blinked.
He didn't drink it.
Stunned, she flushed, and her face suddenly felt too tight. He'd rejected her. Her lips felt numb, and she suspected her smile had become a grimace. She'd known that rejection was a possibility, but she'd been certain he returned her feelings, and she'd discounted the possibility out of hand.
How could she have been so wrong?
"Finish your dinner," Severus said, his voice quiet. "We need to talk."
She stared at him. "No," she said finally. "I don't think there's anything to talk about."
Severus stood. "Hermione," he said firmly. "Come with me."
She ducked her head and stared at the congealing meal on her plate. She heard Severus swear under his breath, and then he walked away and left the Great Hall.
~*~
The physical effects of the Charisma Amour Potion were mild, giving the woman who consumed it a feeling of well-being, but the potion was also reputed to produce vivid erotic dreams centred on the brewer.
~*~
Hermione picked at her dinner after Severus left, keeping her head down and ignoring the staff's questions about the phial and the potion it contained. At last, she set aside her napkin and calmly left the table. She forced herself to walk slowly to her quarters, but all she wanted to do was break into a run, to hide away and lick her wounds in private.
At the painting guarding her rooms, she murmured the password and went into her lounge. The House Elves had already lit the fireplace, and a flick of her wand set the candles throughout the room ablaze. She was shrugging out of her teaching robes when a movement in the corner of the room drew her attention. Instinctively, she gasped and groped for her wand as Severus rose from a wing-backed chair in front of the fire.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, a shrill edge to her voice. "You almost scared me to death."
"As I said at dinner, I need to talk to you," he replied.
He'd removed his robes before she arrived, she noted, and now wore only his black trousers, white shirt and black waistcoat.
"And as I said, there's nothing to talk about," she snapped. "I misjudged the situation. I won't make that mistake again."
He sighed and raked a hand through his long hair. "You obviously researched the customs associated with the Charisma Amour, but you didn't research the actual potion."
"Of course I did," she shot back. "How else could I have brewed it?"
He crossed the room to stand in front of her. "Not the instructions, Hermione, or the ingredients required. You failed to research the potion itself. If you had, you would have known that it was created by a male potions brewer as a gift for the female object of his affections."
"So what? I switched the traditional gender roles." Furious, Hermione placed her hands on her hips and glared up at him. "What does it matter? I thought you were more forward thinking than that."
He shook his head, laughing softly under his breath. "It's not the reversal of roles that I object to. It was drinking that potion in public. For women, the Charisma Amour produces a feeling of contentment and then erotic dreams. But for men..." He plucked the phial from his waistcoat pocket and thumbed the stopper off. Holding her gaze, he lifted the phial to his lips and drank. "For men, it produces an entirely different reaction."
Hermione opened her mouth to ask what he was talking about, when Severus reached out, grasped her right hand, and placed it on the front of his trousers.
Her eyes widened. "Oh," she said faintly.
He smirked. "Yes. Oh. For men, the Charisma Amour produces an immediate and long-lasting erection. That wasn't something I wished to experience in the Great Hall in front of the students and staff."
"So you weren't rejecting me," she said, relief sweeping over her.
His expression softened, and he pulled her into his arms. "No, I wasn't rejecting you at all. I feel— That is, my feelings for you— Hermione, I do—"
She smiled up at him. His uncharacteristic stammering said more than other men could say with volumes of poetry. "You drank the potion, Severus. I know how you feel," she said gently. Then her smile turned wicked, and she pushed her hips against his. "Long-lasting, you say? Define "long-lasting"."
He lowered his head to whisper in her ear. "Hours. I expect we'll both require medical attention before this is over."
"Then it's a good thing that Poppy swore an oath preventing her from discussing the treatment of her patients unless she has their permission," Hermione said, arching an eyebrow.
"It is," he agreed, and his tongue briefly flickered over the edge of her ear. "This is the best birthday I've ever had."
Hermione chuckled and turned her head. As her lips met his, she murmured, "Let's hope you still think that when we have to go to the infirmary."
~*~
Author's Note: Written as a gift to SSHG316 for her birthday. Special thanks to Ginny_Weasley31 for the fast and efficient beta.