A/N:
Thank you all so much for reading this far. I hope you're enjoying it. I wanted to share with you another author whom I've been greatly enjoying. She's also a very good friend of mine. u/9654549/Avodacosss. She's a fellow HG/SS writer and a damn good one at that, so I recommend checking her out. ;)
Also, I'm sorry to tease you (again) and leave this chapter off where I do. Patience is a virtue. ;)
XXLisa
With a soft pop, Hermione landed in front of Grimmauld place and, nervous about how her family would react to her being away all night, she ventured inside. She figured, of course, that Harry had already told them all of the details. She closed the door softly behind her, intent on avoiding everyone, and headed to her bedroom. She needed another shower and to change her clothes.
Molly met her at the top of the stairs, her hands on her round hips, and a knowing smirk playing on her face.
"Did you have a nice evening?" She asked, walking beside Hermione to her bedroom.
"I got drunk and went to sleep," she said, surprised at her blunt tone.
"Well, Ginny told us you'd found dress robes!" Hermione cringed. She'd left them in Severus' flat.
"Yes, I did. I-erm-left them by accident. Molly, I really would like a shower." She smiled apologetically and opened the door to her bedroom, disgruntled when Molly followed her inside. Hermione dug through her drawers, pulling out a long-sleeved top, a cable knit sweater, and a pair of denims. She winced when she shut the bottom drawer and her shoulder gave a particularly bad throb.
"You'll bring them here, won't you? Or are you moving in with him?"
"No! Molly, for goodness sake. I am not moving in with him. We're getting to know each other right now." Molly smiled and stepped forward to pat Hermione's cheek.
"Yes, well. If you need help with the wedding, you'll let me know?" Hermione smiled and nodded, leaning forward to place a kiss on her cheek before heading out the door to the bathroom.
She passed Ron in the hallway and he avoided her gaze with all the tact she knew him to be capable of. Which was none. With his face turned almost into the wall, he nearly ran into his mother. She heard them exchange some heated words, and disappeared into the bathroom.
The hot water eased away the tension she still felt from their activities on the laboratory floor at work. However, thinking about it again caused a tight ball of nervousness to settle in her stomach. Had they just made an arrangement to have sex that night? She laughed out loud. Of course they had. The two most meticulous people she could think of, of course they would have to fit it into their schedules.
Realizing that she'd been in the shower longer than necessary, Hermione washed and conditioned her hair and scrubbed her face and body. Once she was clean, she turned the water off and dried her body, wrapping the towel around her head while she dressed. She barely made it out of the bathroom, rubbing the towel through her hair, when Ginny came flouncing up the stairs with a letter in her hands.
"It's for you!" She said in a sing-song voice and stood there while Hermione opened it, eyeing her with a grin.
Miss Granger,
I am inclined to ask you to dinner this evening in my home before our plans later this evening. Meet me at 8pm. Use the Floo.
-SS
"It's not a raunchy love note, Ginny. He asked me to dinner."
"Er...is that what you're wearing?" Ginny asked, giving Hermione a once over. Hermione looked down at her blue jeans and patterned jumper and shrugged.
"I suppose," she replied. Next thing she knew, Ginny had her by the hand and was dragging her down the hall to her bedroom.
Hermione watched as Ginny rifled through her wardrobe. She pulled out a black satin dress, held it up to Hermione and then curled her lip and tossed it aside. Then she pulled out a dress that Hermione had borrowed from her mother years ago for afternoon tea with a friend. It was perfectly inappropriate for tea with a friend and perfectly appropriate for a date that would be ending as hers would be that night.
Hermione stripped her clothes off and slipped the dress on, ignoring Ginny's comment about 'date knickers,' and eyed herself in the mirror. The dress certainly fit her better now that she was older and able to fill it out more. The coral lace reached a few inches above her knees, nipped in at the waist, and revealed her shoulders without truly revealing them with eyelet lace. She heard a low whistle behind her and spun around.
"Hermione," Harry clapped a hand to his chest dramatically. She hadn't heard him open the door. "You look strangely beautiful."
"Get out," Ginny snapped and slammed the door in his face.
In less than an hour, Ginny had charmed Hermione's hair into more gentle waves and curles, rather than bushy ones. She'd shadowed her eyes with soft browns and golds and painted her lashes with mascara. Deciding to forgo lipstick, Ginny stepped back to admire her handy work.
"I think you're ready. But about your knickers-"
"Shut up about the knickers. The man will be seeing my underwear for the rest of our lives. It doesn't matter what I'm wearing underneath the dress." Ginny looked at her skeptically.
"Hermione, Harry usually doesn't care what my knickers look like either. But every now and then, he likes me to put something special on. It makes us both feel good. It's not just for him, it's for me too." She stopped and went to Hermione's top drawer. Hermione quite thought Ginny was very lucky they were so close.
"If you sleep with him tonight, it'll be your first time together. Don't you think something a little more special would benefit you both?" Hermione glared at her friend but finally nodded.
"Fine. You've convinced me. What about the black silk? Ron always liked those." She regretted it the moment the said it, especially when Ginny turned to her with a look if disgust.
"First of all, gross. Second of all, no. The black lace and the black lace strapless bra. You should match." Hermione sighed and Ginny left so Hermione could change into her more appropriate foundation garments.
Once the dress was resituated, she slipped on some basic black heels that she hoped like hell she could walk in. With a quick thought, Hermione dug through her sock drawer for a phial of deep purple potion. She hadn't used it since Ron and she had been together, but it had a particularly long shelf like. She slipped it into a black clutch along with extra knickers, and provisions for the morning, all shrunk to fit. She opened the door. Ginny nodded resolutely.
"Yes. You look perfect. Shit! It's five-to-eight. You have to go." Ginny dragged her down to the kitchen, through a group of their bewildered family, and shoved her into the Floo where Hermione spun away in a whirl of green flames.
Severus set the kettle to boil for tea. She would be there any moment. Onions were sautéing on the stove, filling his flat with their scent, and he chopped potatoes and autumn gourds for a curry. He hoped she liked curry. If she didn't, they would go somewhere to eat but it never occurred to him to ask. While he chopped, he contemplated his strange behavior toward her. He didn't think he had ever smiled so much as when he was with her. And to think, only a few days ago, they regarded each other with cold professionalism. Now he was snogging her dizzy and cooking her dinner.
Strange, that.
He threw in some previously chopped peppers, feeling a comfort from the sizzle they made when they hit the pan, and spooned in yellow curry paste. The smell changed from simple onion to something much for complex.
Just like potion-making.
He heard the whoosh of the fireplace, but didn't look up. She would come to him. From the sitting room, he heard a soft "oh!" And then the sound of what he thought might be rather high heels on the hard wood floor. He wrinkled his brow at that. The clicking sound of her shoes grew louder until he saw a body that could have been Hermione Granger but looked much too mature to be Hermione's Granger. He instantly hated that dress and loved it at the same time. He was sure he would love it more flung on floor. Enough of that.
"Welcome back," he said softly, returning to his chopping.
"I was under the impression that we would be going out! Merlin, that smells delicious." He was suddenly very glad that they weren't going out. He wasn't sure he wouldn't murder every make that looked at her. She leaned over the skillet and inhaled deeply and he wasn't watching how her breasts strained against that dress, for fuck's sake.
"I wasn't aware that this was a formal event," he said gruffly and she turned to him, hurt.
"Oh-you don't like it? I could go back and change if you-"
"Granger. You look fine." She didn't look convinced. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile and he stood to cross to her. He snagged her by the waist, pulling her flush against him and looked down at her. Her hair was tamer than what he usually saw and she was wearing makeup. She wouldn't look like that by the end of the night.
"I was thinking that I'm glad we're not going out. I can think of more than one man who would likely rape you on spot in that dress." She shoved away from him, rolling her eyes.
"I'm going home to change," she grumbled but he pulled her back into the crook of his arm, using the other to stir the curry in the skillet.
"I like the dress, Granger. Stay and eat, etcetera with me."
"Etcetera?" She chuckled and he nodded firmly, bringing the spoon to her lips for her to taste and eyeing her questioningly.
"Good. It definitely has potential." He smirked.
The gourds and potatoes went into the curry, along with coconut milk, and he turned up the heat so that it could simmer for a while. In the meantime, he poured them each a glass of wine. They leaned against his counter, drinking in silence for a moment.
"I thought you weren't imbibing today?" She asked, mimicking his tone from earlier. He shrugged and sipped at his wine.
"I didn't think I would be, either. But here we are." She smiled at him and chewed her bottom lip. He watched her teeth work at it, watched it swell and turn a lovely shade of pink. He wanted to chew it for her. Before he realized what he was doing, he leaned in and kissed her. He wanted to taste the wine on her lips, like he tasted the champagne on them earlier. She sighed against him and he felt her lips mold to his easily. Like they were meant to be there and he couldn't help but wonder if her body would mold to him just as easily.
Almost as if sensing his thoughts, she put her wine glass down and turned to face him fully. His arms wound around her waist and it was much differently feeling in this dress than in her usual jumper and denims. She was slender and strong beneath his hands, hands he found roaming over the fabric of the dress. It didn't hug her like he'd previously thought. Merlin, no. It caressed her body like it had been made for her and he hoped she kept this dress for the rest of their days together.
His hands found their way to her bum and he groaned when she pulled away from him.
"We still have dinner," she giggled. He hated giggling. Usually. He wanted to hear her giggle again. All in due time. He pressed another chaste kiss to her mouth and went about stirring the curry while she took a deep drink from her wine.
"I would advise against getting drunk tonight," he warned, although his tone was light. She giggled again and dammit he wasn't going to react. "I'm certainly relieved that you're not against the activities." He watched from the corner of his eye as she blushed, and collected herself coolly.
"I'm thinking of it as testing the merchandise," she said with an eyebrow quirked suggestively. He laughed out loud at that while he plated their meals. Carrying both plates, he led her to the dining room and set their meals down on the table. She out both wine glasses down and took the seat at the end, while he took the one next to her.
Hermione marveled at how good a cook he was, and when she voiced her surprise, he looked somewhat offended.
"I am a potions master," he grumbled. "Cooking and brewing are quite similar. Wouldn't you agree?"
"I suppose I'd never thought about it." They ate in silence for a few more minutes before Hermione noticed the hesitant glances Severus was throwing her.
"What?" She asked finally, putting her fork down and giving him her full attention.
"I'm just curious about something," he said, putting his own utensil down. "What happened to your parents? I'd read that you had put a memory charm on them and relocated them. But I've never heard you mention them, and you live with Potter at Headquarters." Hermione stiffened. She thought this conversation might come up, but she didn't know how soon. This was very soon. She took a slow drink from her wine glass, mentally steeling herself and calculating her response.
"After the war," she began slowly, looking down at her plate, " I went to Australia to reverse the spell. It easy was enough, I had read all about it and was confident in my abilities. We got back the country, things were good for a while. A bit uncomfortable. My parents weren't terribly thrilled that I had assaulted their minds and lied to them for seven years." Hermione smiled ruefully, but Severus didn't smile back.
"We'd been back maybe a month. I'd gone out with Harry and Ginny for drinks to celebrate their marriage. By the time I'd come back-" she stopped for a moment and bit her lip. He was watching her closely.
"By the time I'd come back, the house had been turned to rubble. There was nothing left. There were barely even bodies."
"Who-?"
"Death Eaters. The Mark was above the mess. The police were there and seemed oblivious to it. They said the stove had leaked and caught fire and caused an explosion."
"Why didn't I hear about any of this?" He was bewildered. Shocked, even. He was sure he would have heard of another Death Eater attack, no matter his alignment. Someone was sure to brag about it.
"You were in hospital, weren't you? Recovering from the snake bite."
"Granger, I-"
"It's fine. You know now. And it's fine. Can we move on?" He nodded curtly and resumed his dinner. She did as well and their silence stretched out longer.
They finished their meals and Severus cleared their plates. He offered her more wine, which she politely declined. It wouldn't do to be drunk that night. And suddenly, she was nervous. She almost wished that they had simply allowed sex to happen as it would, there on the floor at work, rather than planning it.
She felt her cheeks color when he offered her his hand and pulled her to her feet. The way he looked at her made her stomach flip and her breath catch. He watched her from under the curtain of his dark hair and then, with a slow smirk, led her into the bedroom.