Chapter Four: Trial, Error and Temptation
If that little witch thought she was going to get close to him, Severus had startling news for her. He sat under a tree, brooding and irritated at both that little vixen, as well as the Headmistress that forced him to bring the girl along.
God knew he couldn't look at her without remembering everything (or at least everything he could remember). He saw her face, flushed, her lips parted as she panted and moaned with pleasure-pleasure that he had given her. Each time he looked at her, he was horrified when he felt himself grow harder, recalling the softness, the feel of being inside of her, of touching her-the delicious sensation of the firm, yet soft skin of her backside pressed between his thighs.
It was wrong for more reasons than one. First off, she was his student. Partial student, yes, but he could remember seeing her when she'd first come to Hogwarts at the age of eleven. An innocent little thing with big, bright brown eyes, an unruly mass of bushy hair, and the know-it-all attitude of a teacher's pet, always waving her hand in the air at every question asked. He'd disliked the girl for that last bit. Severus never did care for know-it-alls-people who liked to make it plainly obvious that they were brilliant. Perhaps if she'd been more modest of her widely cultivated mind, much like himself, he may have been able to tolerate her easier, despite the fact that she was a Gryffindor.
The second reason the unintentional sexual exchange was wrong was because neither of them had known what they were doing when it had begun. That meant that it was technically against Granger's own will, not speaking anything of his own. It practically classified as rape, although Severus shuttered at the thought. He wasn't nice, he wasn't cheerful, he wasn't polite or even civil most of the time. But he was not a creep. Never would he do such a thing to a student-or to anyone without getting their consent first.
Not to mention the fact that Snape hadn't had such relations in a long time. He was getting older, more weathered, even though he hadn't hit the age of forty yet. He hadn't felt the want or the need to relieve himself of such tension in quite some time. Hell, he didn't have any sort of sexual tension within him. At least, not until that night in his dungeons.
Now, he couldn't look at her, and he could only barely stand to hear her voice. Being near to her was like being shoved inside a broom closet, suffocating slowly, painfully. And whenever they happened to brush up against each other, even lightly, fleetingly, he felt his blood begin to boil, his body wanting so desperately to fill the burning desire she unknowingly stirred within him. At the same time, his mind was keeping him in check with a simple thing called common sense.
So although the noble Gryffindor had kindly offered him a place in the warm, cozy tent with plenty of room inside, he refused to set foot within its canvas flaps. Even with as large as it was, its confines would still hold him in too close of a proximity to her. And he would not risk making a very grave mistake again.
X-X-X
She wasn't sure what time it was when she opened her eyes the next morning, but she didn't think it was too late. Warmth all around her from her blankets, Hermione stretched and slowly swung her legs from the bed to sit up. She yawned and looked around the tent, noticing that the light outside was only barely shining above the horizon, the walls of the enclosure glowing slightly golden in the morning light.
After changing her clothes and slipping on her shoes, she walked outside, wondering if Snape was already awake. She couldn't imagine him being the type of person to sleep in lazily, especially when there was work to be done. She'd half expected him to wake her up that morning and shove her out the door, barking at her that they needed to get moving straight away; that they had a lot of ground to cover still if they hoped to find the Wolfsbane and the Fanged Geranium.
He hadn't, however, and Hermione was surprised to find the man sleeping beneath the tree under which she'd left him the night before. He lay in the grass, his cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. It covered the majority of his face, and his closed eyes were only barely visible beneath the messy strands of hair that had tumbled down over his face in the night.
Her irritable, short-fused potions master now looked much more docile in his peaceful slumber, although under the light curtain of black hair, it seemed he still held some sort of alertness in case something unexpected were to take place.
Even so, Hermione thought it odd that he was still asleep. She wondered if she should wake him. They did have a lot of ground to cover and she didn't want Snape to be even surlier if he had been hoping to leave as early as possible. She frowned a little in contemplation, the decided to try it. If he got mad at her for disturbing his sleep, then she supposed that was just another thing to add to her list of offenses.
The air outside the tent was rather nippy as she walked slowly, and with measured footsteps to the tree beneath which her professor slept. She knelt beside him cautiously.
"Professor?" she whispered. "Professor Snape? Professor Snape?"
This elicited no response, and reluctantly, Hermione reached a trembling hand out to touch his shoulder. Her fingertips only barely grazed over the cloth of his cloak.
"Professor Snape, wake up."
"Expeliarmis!"
Hermione gasped and turned her head as she watched her wand fly out of her pants pocket and into the tall grass. Before she had the chance to look forward again, she found herself on her back, her hands held above her head and the tip of another's wand pressing into her jugular.
Staring up, wide-eyed, she met the pitch black pupils of an extremely dangerous man. She could tell the Killing Curse or the Cruciatus Curse was dancing upon his lips, wishing to leap forward and deal a critical blow to his victim. He could do it, and he would do it, too, if he had to. His face was so close, the tips of his hair brushed her cheeks, and she could taste his breath upon her slightly parted lips. Her heart rate thumped heavily in her breast. She was both terrified and strangely exhilarated by his swift movements, as well as his nearness.
It took a few seconds for both of them to reorient themselves to their current situation. Hermione forced her racing heart to slow and her mind to stop whirling, as if she were experiencing some sort of euphoric high. Snape's dark eyes slowly lost their threatening glare as he pulled his face back from hers, his wand no longer digging into her throat menacingly. His deadly stare slowly transformed to a look of sheer annoyance and mild disgust as he lifted himself off of her. He stood, not bothering to offer his hand to help her to her feet.
"Miss Granger, why do you feel the need to disturb my precious sleep? Couldn't whatever concerns floating around in your crowded mind have waited until I decided to wake?" Severus asked frostily.
Hermione sat up, still a bit disoriented as her eyes traveled slowly up the body of the man before her. A bit awkwardly, she met his gaze, unable to find words to answer his question. He lifted his brows, the irritation still present.
"Well?" he prompted, waiting, impatiently, for her reply.
"I-I'm sorry. I just thought... I thought you would want to leave as soon as possible," she sputtered.
"Did you think that I didn't need an adequate amount of rest before setting out again?"
Hermione's mouth opened and closed like a fish, unsure of what to say. "No, of course not. I just wasn't sure-"
"Well, I must congratulate you, Miss Granger. You managed to ruin my day once again. You're quickly replacing Potter as the bane of my existence. That's quite an accomplishment."
He glared at her, evidently done with this little game first thing in the morning. "Pack the tent away, and let's get moving. Now," he said icily.
Now sharing in his irritation, Hermione turned from Snape, flourishing her wand a few times before the tent was neatly packed away inside her extendable handbag. She turned back to face her professor stubbornly. "Alright then, so let's go!" She marched past him, starting along a trail. "What are you waiting for? The Wolfsbane and Geraniums aren't going to pick themselves you know!"
Severus scowled at her retreating figure. Arrogant, smartarse little witch. Oh, how he loathed women. Especially the young ones. Always a constant pain in his rear. Then again…everyone was a constant pain in Snape's rear.
Keeping the flame from reaching the end of his incredibly short fuse, he trudged grudgingly up the trail after her. Dear God, why him? He asked. Why him?
X-X-X
The next day passed the same as the first, and when they were ready to rest, Hermione took the tent while Severus remained outside beneath the stars like before. The next morning, it was he who awoke first, but he waited patiently (sort of) for the obviously tired girl to get her lazy butt out of bed. Once she'd rejoined the world of the living, she packed away the tent once more, and they set off, still in search of the two elusive plants.
That day, they had ventured down the other side of the mountain they'd climbed the day prior and found themselves crossing a vast expanse of grasslands. There were flowering trees scattered here and there, and many different kinds of plant life. Both of them thinking along the same lines, they searched the grasslands thoroughly, hoping to locate at least one of the two herbs they needed.
No such luck, however. Soon they were headed toward the second mountain, having found nothing of value except a nice change of scenery.
Hermione was leading again, which oddly enough, Severus had no objections to. As much as he hated smarty pants people, he had to admit that he admired her own wealth of knowledge on their jaunt across the mountains of New Zealand. She could take care of herself for the most part, being resourceful and even more knowledgeable about the land that he was (which irked him, but he was glad he didn't have to worry much about her safety).
She stopped up the path from him a ways after awhile. "What…do you find so interesting, Miss Granger?" he asked, not really interested, but exasperated by the interruption.
"Professor, look!" she exclaimed in little more than a whisper.
Severus's frown deepened, and he trudged over to her, eager to see what she'd spotted, then move on quickly.
As he stepped up behind her, Hermione found herself fixed on the most beautiful sight she'd ever laid eyes on. In the clearing on the other side of the bushes on which they stood was a heard of at least twelve winged horses, a few babies wandering among them.
She watched, captivated, as one horse spread its feathers and snickered, kicking the ground with one of its front feet. It seemed to be communicating something. Then she saw a foal, a little filly, trot up to the bigger horse. The two were mother and daughter, and Hermione found herself beyond intrigued to know how the magnificent beasts lived and communicated with one another.
The mare took off running, then jumped into the air, spreading her wings and soaring around in a single circle, stopping to hover just above her little one. The foal seemed to understand what her mother was asking for, so she, too, began to run, spreading her wings and leaping up, hoping to catch the wind and ride the current.
Unfortunately for the baby, she fell to the ground in a tangle of long, wobbly legs and mussed feathers. She only barely missed hitting her head during the fall.
The mare set all four feet on the ground and nuzzled her little babe to make sure that she was not badly injured. After a moment or two, the filly stood, seeming unscathed, suffering a blow only to her dignity. Hermione smiled wide, watching the goings on of the herd.
Snape rolled his eyes and began the trek toward their destination again. "Let's go, Granger. You can look at the pretty ponies some other time."
"Are you joking? I'll never get a chance to see something this incredible again!"
He whirled round, scowling at her. "We don't have time to be fooling around watching horses. Or in case you've forgotten, we have things we need to do."
"I know, but…Professor, how can you not be captivated by such a sight?"
He lifted his brows, but his bored, annoyed expression didn't change. "Simple. I'm not a silly. Little. Girl." He flourished his cloak in a summoning gesture. "Come. We have many more places to check."
Sighing, and with one last look at the winged mare and her filly, Hermione drug herself away from the magical scene to resume her venture with the crabby old bat. She felt a bit ashamed at being distracted by watching the horses. Snape was right, of course. They had plants to track down, a potion to make, a school and friends to return to. They didn't have time for all those leisurely stops.
The mountain they climbed next was much steeper than the first. Severus, being oddly agile, flexible and graceful for a man his age made it effortlessly up the nearly straight up climbs, his long, lean legs carrying him much further and faster than his traveling companion.
Hermione, unfortunately, wasn't having much luck keeping up with her potions master. While it was true she'd survived nearly a year in the "wild" with Harry and Ron, they'd never had to climb places like the ones she and Snape kept running into. Halfway up one stony wall, she looked to the dark man who had reached the top with little effort in mute appeal. At last she spoke up as he continued to watch her struggle.
"Aren't you going to help me?" she asked.
Severus actually smirked this time. "What's the matter, Granger? Can't keep up? Maybe you should…exercise more."
She gave him a dirty look, and said, "Just help me! Why do you have to be so cold and mean?"
His smirk grew only slightly. "That's just who I happen to be. If you don't like it, then you can leave right now. I will find the Wolfsbane and Geraniums on my own."
Hermione gave a sound similar to a growl of annoyance before trying once again to pull herself up to the rocky ledge.
As much as Severus didn't want to help her (because that meant touching her), he kneeled down and bent over when she neared the top, grabbing her arms and pulling her up. He rose to his feet as she took the last steps up to the flat place upon which he stood. Just as he went to let go, however, the edge of the ledge crumbled, and Hermione stumbled backward, about to tumble back down the mountain.
Snape grabbed her again instantly, pulling Hermione to him to keep her from falling. Hermione gasped quietly as she once again found herself in very close proximity to the dreadfully morose potions master. His black eyes bore into hers for what seemed like a long time.
Severus suddenly felt his body temperature rise at the feel of her petite form flush against him. He'd managed to bring their faces together again, until they were only an inch or so apart. They were so close, he could look right into her eyes and see exactly what she was thinking, even without the power of Legilimency.
He wasn't sure if he liked the desire he found there, deep within the honey-colored irises.
He pushed her away and turned so that she couldn't see the obvious lust he'd begun to feel once more simply because of a brief touch. What in the hell was wrong with him? Why did one glance set his heart ablaze? And why did one touch make him want to throw everything away just to make love to her?
A/N: Kay! So let me know what you think. Here comes the sexual tension. lolol And what's this about protectiveness in the next chapter? :O Find out next time! Please, please, please review!