Hermione Granger, the brain of the Golden Trio, the brightest witch of her generation, the newly promoted senior researcher specialized in Charms and Arithmancy in the Department of Mystery, was nervous. She was at a Muggle bar near the British Museum, a lovely place to relax for a couple pins without being recognized by wizards or witches. A nicely fit navy blue dress showed off her curves, its open-back design was not too low for her to feel uncomfortable yet low enough to present most of her smooth back. Her wild curls were put up by some complicated makeup charms she learned from Lavender. More than one man had tried to approach her but she was dressing up to attract their attentions. She dressed up with the hope to impress one man, and the said man was the reason why she was so nervous and unsettled.
Severus Snape. Just thinking about his name made her heart did the stupid flip-flop and she quickly schooled her face into calmness.
It has been three years since she worked with Severus Snape, and she finally determined to let him know about her feelings tonight. She chose this bar which they usually came to and under the decoy of celebrating her promotion，just to not draw any suspicion from him.
Checking her reflection from the window glass maybe the thirtieth time, she caught a black shadow by the side of her eye. Hermione instantly tensed up, only to realize it was not him. She let out a long breath, decided it would be a good idea to get something to drink before she drove herself into madness.
When Severus Snape spotted her, she was drinking her wine at the bar, her back turned toward him. The dark hair wizard almost stopped died on his track, and his breath hitched by what he saw.
She was breathtakingly beautiful.
With her curly hairs pulled up into a loose bun, he could get an eyeful of her smooth bare back and delectable neck. The dark navy dress served well to highlight her round curves, his hands twitched for the desire to caress the material, to see if it was as soft as it looked like.
Who did she dress up for? Severus thought with a bitter scorn. Was she going to a date after this?
His thoughts darken for the idea, he wanted to question her and hexed the lucky guy, he wanted to kiss her and claim her. He wanted, like he did more than a thousand times before, to tell her he loved her and to beg her to give him a chance.
Stop it, Snape. He took in a calming breath, forcefully shoved those thoughts into the back of his head. You were just friends, she would never look at you like that. Of course, a young, brilliant, wonderful witch liked her would never have an interest at an old and ugly wizard like him. Not to mention he was her most hateful ex-professor, it was a miracle that they could become friends. And he would never let a slip of tongue ruined his friendship again.
One thing he could do, his expression darkened further, was to give those men trying to approach her a dark murderous look to scare them off. In here she was mine.
"Hermione." He placed a hand on the small of her back in a possessive manner, silently claimed his right by her side.
"Severus!" The young witch turned around and smiled up at him, warm brown eyes shining happily and dreamily.
Dreamily? Before he could figure out what was off, Hermione reached out and cupped his face, her lips crushed to his in a fervent kiss. He was so shocked that for a moment he just froze, mouth slightly opened, hand still resting on her back. When her tongue slipped into his mouth, all higher reasoning flew away from him at light speed. Responded her kiss with a hungry groan, his right hand slid up along her spine into her hairs, left hand moved to cup her backside pulling her into his chest. Their tongues tangled in a delicious sensual dance, both forgot where they were momentarily and none noticed a dim flash of camera light came from the corner of the bar.
She tasted of wine, brown sugar, and mint, he was all too aware of the softness of her breasts against his chest, the smoothness of her bare back, his thumb drawing slow circles on her skin, intoxicated by the feeling of everything her. Yet even in his lust-haze state, he could pick up that something was off, something strange was mixing in the taste of her. He frowned, deepened the kiss to devour her and to analyze the unwanted taste, it took him a couple minutes for his desire-filled mind to realize what it was, and he immediately drew back from the kiss.
Why the hell is there Lust Potion in a Muggle drink?