A/N: So what does everyone think about this chapter (length-wise)? Before moving onto the story I would like to acknowledge several people:

Duj: Thank you for alerting me to the existence of the Harry Potter Lexicon. I had not heard of it before. I found it had wonderful information. Although I would like to point out something about your comment. JKR said that in book one Professor Snape was 35/36. We'll say 36 for my purposes. Add 6 years onto that and he would be 42. And add the six years that Hermione was gone in My story and that will equal 48. Thank you for your comment, and the vital information.

Obi-Wan's Lover: Thank you for your suggestions. I intend to bring in Hermione's past six years, as well as why Professor Snape has suddenly regressed back to his younger self. And also I wonder if you could explain to me the exact purpose of a beta, and where I would find one. I have only recently come back to this community and I don't remember ever hearing about where to find a 'beta'.

I would also like to take a moment to say Thank you to all my reviewers and readers, I love to hear from you!

Chapter 7: The Effects of Silk

Severus Snape was a man to be reckoned with. In all the years that Dumbledore had poked and prodded him, the result had always been the same. Snape would slink away, that same old scowl masking his face, and Dumbledore would let him. The old man would just have that damned twinkle in his eye. 'Bet you'd give anything to see that twinkle again though, wouldn't you.' Snape passed through the portrait hole into his new sitting room. The walls were stripped of all color, as he suspected the bedroom would be. Would he allow Granger to decorate their rooms in her Gryffindor colors? Would she allow him to decorate them in his house colors? 'Fool. Do you honestly think she will consent to stay in these chambers with you? Do you think she would willfully go to your bed!'

Snape growled in frustration as he made his way into his bedroom. As he had suspected, Albus had ordered the walls to be devoid of all color, leaving their new owners to decorate. Snape dragged a finger across the immaculately kept fireplace before turning to the king-sized bed. The house elves had brought up the bedcovers from his dungeon. He made a move toward dark green silk duvet, but ploughed into a cardboard box sending him face first into the cold cobblestone.

"What in the name of Merlin!"

He twisted his body around so that he could glare at the box properly. 'Bloody house-elves!' But before he could call one to pick it up, he noticed a small cracked picture frame. Two muggles stared up at him awkwardly, waving, beside a very pleased Hermione. This was the day she had passed her NEWTS. Snape could see her picture brandishing the results. 'She looked so happy.' Snape got to his feet, trying his best not to gaze at the photograph as he picked up the box and deposited it on his bed. It was probably the last time she had seen her parents. They had not lived to see her leave Hogwarts. 'They never stood a chance against Bellatrix.'

"Reparo" he whispered.

The frame mended itself and Snape put it aside. Along with a collection of oddly assorted muggle books, he found that Hermione had brought a few of her own personal effects. There was a collection of trophies, and round disks which Snape faintly recalled. 'Compact Disc…CD's, yes that's it'. Snape had never been one to collect the blasted things. They were too easy to break. He noticed also, among a pink silk kimono, were various masks, some tiny, some the size of his fist. He had seen these once, they were quite popular in Italy. This box clearly held her many muggle trinkets. Her old school trunk, rather ragged in his opinion, was sitting at the foot of her bed. No doubt he could find some interesting artifacts in there. Snape thought back to Potter and Weasley. 'Foolish children. Always getting into trouble, rebelling when they needed the most protection.'

He abandoned the box for a moment and allowed himself to nod off. The bed was not as hard as he would have liked it, in fact it was much too comfortable, but the weight of the past few months caught him unawares and he found it didn't matter.

Hermione found him that way, sleeping at an odd angle, on top of the duvet. The parcels in her arms suddenly felt all too heavy, so she dumped them onto the couch in the sitting room, before she returned to her bedroom. 'Our bedroom' she corrected herself. Dumbledore's words rang out in her mind. 'Who is to say Severus could not become a desirable mate.' To her shock and horror Hermione realized that some miniscule part of her agreed with the late headmaster. And she wondered, as she had so many times that day, whether this was what he had intended from the beginning.

"Merlin help me" she murmured to herself as one knee sank onto the mattress.

Hermione had never seen Snape this peaceful before. 'I've never been this close to him before.' With as much stealth as she could manage Hermione allowed herself to sit close beside him, her hair cascading over one shoulder as she reached out tentatively. She allowed a fingertip to brush against a silken strand of hair. 'What am I doing? I've gone too far! Snape is going to kill me!' Hermione bit her lip, but allowed herself to stroke the side of his face with the back of her hand. 'His skin is so cold!' Her heart stopped as she gazed down at her former potions master. His chest didn't appear to be rising or falling. Slowly she inched closer to him, her ear hovering near his mouth. She waited, praying that he had not left her while she had been out on her stupid shopping spree…

"Boo!"

Hermione soared back into the headboard before he could possibly prevent her from doing so. The result being of course, that she hit her head…hard. Hermione winced, willing herself not to cry out or shed the tears which so readily formed in her amber eyes. 'Good job Hermione'. She could have patted herself on the back, if it hadn't been for the pain, or the almost inaudible sound of Snape's deep chuckle. 'Greasy git! He wanted to scare the crap out of me.' She tried to glare in his direction, but found glaring did nothing for the pain, and allowed her unwanted tears to fall. Snape stopped chuckling then, and leaned over, a long finger sneaking around her head to touch the back of her skull. It was tender, but not fatal. She turned her attention instead to the issue of her devious ex-professor.

"You did that on purpose!" she seethed, shoving her finger into his chest.

"And who began the assault on who?" he murmured silkily.

Snape pulled back the duvet and the first black sheet, and helped her climb in. He watched in anticipation as Hermione received a simple jolt of pleasure from the texture of the sheets. 'God I love silk'

"Aren't you coming to bed?" Hermione could have smacked herself for asking.

She hadn't meant the question to leave her lips. The sliver of tenderness he had shared with her a moment ago was gone, and she could have kicked herself as his usual sneer flirted across his features. Yes, this time Hermione had gone too far. The mask he wore was back in place, as if it had never left. 'Why do you always have to ruin a good thing?' But as he looked her over, from her messy coffee colored locks to her slim form hiding beneath the covers, Hermione saw something flicker through his eyes that made her blush .

"You…want me to sleep here? With you?" He stared at her incredulously.

Hermione recognized this as the cautiousness Dumbledore had spoken of in the letter. Snape looked at her dubiously, and she knew that she had to take a chance. Dumbledore was no fool. And neither was she. The pain that had led to her tears disappeared in that instant, as she crawled toward him. The smirk playing on his lips belied the wariness in the dark depths of his eyes. She didn't dare hesitate, or give thought to her Gryffindor pride, as she reached for his hand. Snape sat quietly at the edge of the bed, and it appeared that he had no intention of crawling back into the middle of the bed with her. She thought back to the letter. 'Stubborn, he is. But I am just as stubborn.' Hermione smiled warmly into his eyes as she wrapped a small hand around his arm, and pulled.

"Professor . . . Snape? I would like nothing more than for you to come to bed…with me," she smirked. "It has been a long day. And there is much to do tomorrow" she eyed the walls purposefully.

"Miss Granger you are –" he was cut off by Hermione's fingertip resting itself on his lips.

For a moment Snape dared not move. She did not pull her finger away until she was quite satisfied he would remain silent, if not polite. But when she pulled at his arm he would not move.

"Miss Granger, I don't know what –" again he was cut off but by this time by Hermione firmly covering his mouth with her own. Snape remained still, his shock apparent in the stiffness of his limbs. And when she pulled back a smile played on her lips. Professor Snape, was no longer cold, and the mint smell of earlier in the day had been replaced by the smell of spicy pumpkin. 'I like the pumpkin much better' she mused silently.

"Hermione…Call me Hermione."

Inch by inch Hermione crawled backward, pulling Snape back with her. With each creep toward the center of the bed she rewarded him with a short kiss, until finally they were in the middle, and her fists were balled up in his robes. She spared one hand to pull back the duvet as she wriggled under. She waited, but something flashed in Snape's eyes telling her to stay alert. 'Why isn't he getting in' she wondered awkwardly anxiously.

"Relax Miss…Hermione." The corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk as he leaned over her, brushing his mouth against the corner of lips, running his tongue along the cartilage in her ear. Hermione moaned softly as he bit down on her neck, pulled him closer. Snape glanced down into her eyes then, his own clouded with desire, but suddenly alert. 'I can't do this. She's…she was my student.' It was a poor excuse for pulling away, but Snape the adult felt the need to crush the hormones of Snape the adolescent. But when he sat back on his hunches he saw the hurt and confusion flicker through her easy-to-read face. Peeling back the duvet he climbed in next to her, painfully aware of the beginning of a bulge in his pants.

"Miss Granger…Hermione," he growled in exasperation, "I. I am far too old for such a…a…a beautiful…I mean…"

But he never got to finish. Hermione nudged him, repeatedly throwing his concentration off, until he growled fiercely again and drew her into his arms. Hermione could see the battle raging behind his eyes. The man Snape had been would never allow him to care for anything or anyone. Especially not her. She was not sure what had happened to turn him back into a young man again, but she could see that the two personalities were at odds. What Hermione didn't, couldn't, realize was young Snape was very much like his future self, if not worse. As a youth Snape had been insecure, miserable, angry, distrustful, and had not been the kind of person to let anyone in. At least in the future he had gained confidence. No, this Snape was an odd combination of both his selves, with something else added in. Something he had not had before. He wrapped his arms around the slim waist of the young woman huddled against his chest. 'Hermione'