Oh I really hope you like where I'm going with this ;) Sometimes I wonder if I'm a bit of a sadist, but if I'm a writer, then that automatically makes me a Masochist... Either way, I hope you enjoy my musings :D It's the longest one yet!


Chapter 7

He was late.

He was never late.

He was late.

Why?

Did she push him too far? Was he angry with her? She paced around the lab, gathering materials for her expected assignment, Blood-Replenishing Potion.

She'd just set up to begin fifteen minutes later when he swept through the door. They both stopped what they were doing and stared at each other, she in surprise, he in...

Embarrassment?

He blushed. Severus blushed at the sight of her and stalked over to his own workstation.

She looked down at her cauldron, then back to him, perplexed. Perhaps she could get him to talk about it?

"Running late?"

He slammed a cauldron down, "Obviously."

Well that didn't work. She tried again, "Bad day?"

His hands stilled as he tensed and turned to glare at her, "If I had a bad day, whose fault would that be, Miss Granger?"

Miss Granger...Her face fell and she turned back to her workstation. She had pushed him too far. Tomorrow night was going to be awkward and he would most likely hex her before dancing with her. She watched her solution rise to a boil before adding in the granulated iron.

Several minutes passed in silence with only the occasional sound of him collecting his own ingredients and their brewing.

His voice rang out into the quiet room, making it more harsh than she'd heard in a very long time, "What, no striptease to ensnare my senses? No verbal foreplay to bewitch my mind?"

His sarcastic tone was enough to push her from anxiety to anger. She slammed her stirring stick down to the counter and turned to face him. "Do you wish for me to withdraw? I don't have to do this, you know." When he didn't reply, she continued with more barbs aimed to strike at his ego, "If you wanted your little birthday present so badly as to have someone else ask it for you, then why are you being such a complete burk at a free preview?" She finished her little confrontation with her hands on her hips.

Magic crackled through the room with his anger as he struggled to restrain himself, "How dare you! You act like a common trollop and then blame me when I act like a civilised man?" His face was tight and sneering as he stepped towards her.

She scoffed, "A trollop would have done a lot more than I did, I promise you that. All I've done is dress nicely and dropped a few innuendos, but I suppose an uptight wizard like yourself would find that overly provocative."

"Yes! I do! I find it offensive that you think you can wriggle your arse at me any time of the day. I am a teacher, for Merlin's sake. I demand respect and at least some degree of peace from someone who is supposed to be helping me."

"Offensive?" She yanked up her skirt a few inches and showed off her lavender flounces, "You find this offensive?"

Despite him stepping even closer, despite her holding her skirt up for him to see it, he would not look down to her slip. Instead he concentrated on her face and snarled, "It is inappropriate for the working environment. Clothing such as that should be reserved for the bedroom."

Her left eyebrow arched, "Oh, so if I show you a little leg in your bedroom, you'll be fine with it?"

"Yes—NO!"

He looked panicked. She verbally pounced, "Aha!"

"I mean, 'No'!"

They were closing the gap between them and were standing but a pace away from each other. He scowled and continued, "I meant to say that it is the appropriate place, not that—"

She was quickly gaining on him and his slip-ups. She smiled darkly up at him, "Your bedroom is the appropriate place for me to show off?"

He stared her down as their breathing calmed, obviously looking for the right way to answer her. Either she had been finishing his sentence or making a suggestion. He could support or refute her suggestion, even make a neutral claim to her finishing his sentence...

Something changed in his expression the moment before he uttered, "Yes," and pulled her to him for a devouring kiss.

She nearly cried with happiness and her heart was ready to race along the Circuit de Monaco. Her arms wound around his shoulders as she pulled herself flush up against his hard body. He kissed divinely, with lovely firm lips that pressed, rubbed, nipped and nibbled until her tongue delicately licked his upper lip.

He backed his head away for only a moment to give her a look of surprise before dipping back down to take her mouth in a deeper exploration. He tasted of almonds...

A loud splurt garnered their attention as both his and her potions ran amok. They sprang apart to vanish the ruined solutions with their wands. She flicked off her burner and waited for him to say something. Anything.

She heard him inhale and exhale slowly in the quiet lab.

The hard leather soles of his shoes struck loudly against the stone floor and when she looked up, he was beside her again, holding out his hand to her.

She blinked, then slipped her fingers into his warm hand and looked back up to his face.

He looked almost upset, resigned.

Was he going to make her leave?

His mouth opened and her eyes locked onto it hungrily, but he spoke with a collected voice, "Would you care for some tea...Hermione?"

Yes, her practicum was rather botched for the day, so she saw no need for them to continue there, but he was offering her tea? He kissed her like that and then formally offers her tea, as if he were merely her professor?

If he hadn't used her given name, she just might have refused out of sheer obstinacy, but his expression was growing anxious.

Anxious...Well, she couldn't have that. It had taken him far too long to kiss her in the first place.

She took a small breath and answered, "Yes, please."

He nodded and led her out of the room with her hand tucked through his bent arm, rather formally. It was rather sweet, actually. They stepped into his parlor and he threw a pinch of floo powder into his fire as she took her seat.

"The Kitchens."

A small elf head popped into the green flame and blinked in fear up at Severus. He looked down to its unspoken query and responded, "Tea."

The elf looked from him to Hermione and nodded, then left the flame to burn orange again.

Severus turned to the room and saw she'd sat in her usual chair, the one with green leather that belonged in a pub. He gave one cursory look to his favored seat across from her, then chose to occupy the wooden chair to her right.

The tea tray-bearing elf popped into the room as soon as Severus sat down and left the tray on the simple wooden butler's table between them.

At the sound of the elf's departing snap, Severus looked from her to the tray. He seemed to be confused about how to do this, so she, once again, took mercy.

"I would assume you take your tea black, but assumptions can be dangerous things." She poured the brew into the cup closest to him and then her own.

He lifted the cup to his nose and took a breath of the tea's scent. "Lemon, please." He held out his cup to her and she slid a lemon slice into his tea with the tiny tongs provided. She drank her tea black, without changing what it was meant to taste like.

They took their first sips in silence, looking every so often at each other rather shyly. The tension in the room was palpable and she was growing increasingly tired of it. Only moments ago, they'd been down each other's throats and now they couldn't sit and drink tea together without awkwardness.

When he cleared his throat but didn't say anything, she sighed and put her tea cup down. "You know? I think this is a bit ridiculous. We're adults." She stood up and stepped in front of him, took his tea and sat it down on the tray. He blinked at her, seemingly at a loss for what to do. Well, since he took up most of the chair's seat and the chair had no arms, the best way for her to proceed would be...hmm.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned down to slowly taste the tea from his mouth. She tasted bergamot on his tongue and slid her hands up to hold the sides of his face. The angle was strange and her back was starting to ache, but she didn't want to stop, not when he was letting her do this, so she stepped one leg daringly outside of his, then the other and straddled his lap to sit on him.

His hands immediately went to the bunched skirt at her bottom and played with the different fabrics gathered there. Eventually, they crept up enough to expose her slip to him and she could feel the heat of his hands on her bum as hot as the heat from his lap beneath her.

She moaned into his mouth at the feel of his hands on the satin of her slip. It was an erotic sensation, the way he played along the hidden lines of her knickers and cupped large handfuls of satin and buttocks in his grasp. His kiss became frenzied when his hand slipped down her leg and felt the top of her stockings. He pulled her hips into his tightly and groaned his passion, playing with the suspenders that helped hold her stockings up.

When his fingers skimmed bare flesh, she canted back with a cry and rolled her hips into him, pulling her shoes to their toes against the floor.

He stopped.

She took a shaky breath and looked down at him. "What is it?"

He stared at her with such a torn look on his face,

"Darling, what is it?" Her hands caressed his face along his cheeks, his jaw, down to his neck. "Have I—"

"Get up."

She looked at him in confusion, "Have I done something wrong?"

He pushed at her hips and watched her untangle herself from him. Her skirt fell on its own, but she had to pull her blouse back to rights. His eyes watched her greedily, and she'd felt his wonderful interest beneath her while she straddled him, so what was wrong?

"Sit down, please."

She bit her lip, wanting only to go back to kissing him—

"Please, Hermione." He gestured to her seat and she acquiesced. He took the opportunity to straighten his own clothes, then took a sip of his tea.

She looked down to her own cup, but couldn't make herself drink it.

"I don't know what you want." It was all she could think of to say.

He set his cup down and took a moment before he spoke.

"I want to make this as plain as I can. You—I'm not a man tempted by casual pleasures."

She blinked and looked at him, eyebrows dipping slowly, willing him to continue but not sure if she would like it.

"I'm not open, I'm not social..." He looked helplessly at her as if she could give him the right words, but she wasn't about to take over this revelation, "I'm not...into...flings."

His eyes were very carefully trying to convey something to her and she had the instinct that it wasn't for her to bugger off. He seemed to be having a hard time of saying...what she hoped he was saying.

He continued, "If we...proceed in this manner...I would like for us to go slowly. There need not be any rush."

Her eyebrows shot up at this statement, wondering just what he meant by that, but also giddy that he did want to continue down the path they'd started.

She smiled at him, tentatively, "Are you sure about tomorrow night, then? I don't want to give away the surprise, but...I imagine the word would be 'outré'."

His eyebrows took their turn running for his hairline and his eyes glittered in the afternoon light filter. He adjusted his seat in the uncomfortable chair and took another sip of his tea. He seemed to be pondering something of great importance and it didn't seem to be what type of outfit she'd be wearing.

He looked like he was swallowing something distasteful. She could only watch him and ask herself, Why?

After he was done pontificating, he responded obliquely, "I would like to see you do this small thing for me at my birthday celebration."

She frowned. Small thing? He'd emphasized that her little show was to be a small thing, both with voice and eyes. She frowned and thought through the things that could be small about this. Either he was a little kinkier than she expected and didn't think a song and dance could be provocative or...she just might have gotten something wrong along the way...

Like something rather obvious that she thought was a kept secret between her and Minerva.

Her eyes narrowed onto his slightly guilty face as she realized what exactly a small thing would be in reference to herself. "This is about my animagus, isn't it?" He looked away, confirming her suspicions. "Minerva was to keep that quiet, but apparently she doesn't know how." No wonder Minerva was looking at her so strangely. She'd been near to laughter at Hermione's inaccurate supposition. Her gaze darkened and focused on Severus, again, "Albus knows I'm a rabbit?"

He looked ready to choke on something, but responded, "I...believe so, yes."

"And when did you find out?"

His eyes slid away from hers, "Through the grapevine."

She snorted derisively, "You mean Minerva told Rolanda, who can't keep her bloody mouth shut, either."

"Hermione—"

She cut him off with a look. "Have I been making a fool of myself? Are all the staff laughing at me?" She remembered Pomona's rocking cackle and cringed.

He jumped to correct her, "No! No one is laughing at you. I rather think they wanted to get a laugh over on me, actually."

She pinned him with another look. "And you were going to let me..." Her voice rose in incredulity, "You don't even know how I interpreted Albus' hare-brained scheme, do you?"

He shook his head in denial, watching her carefully.

She stood up, slightly indignant. It was not missed on her that he'd tried to warn her before she went through with this debacle. Still, he could have told her two nights ago when she first came to him.

Unless he wanted her to do this...her way...

Her resolve solidified. If the staff could dabble in her personal affairs like this, then they were all going to watch her have the last laugh when she showed them her interpretation of a rabbit hopping out of a cake and then had her own over on them. Oh, yes, she knew exactly what to do about this. She'd have them all by the toenails, soon enough.

She was going to show them all right, as well as have herself a bit of fun. She could see herself making them all very, very uncomfortable with this. Well, except for Rolanda. Hardly anything phased her.

"All right then. I think it best for me to go, now."

He grabbed her hand as she stepped by him and she looked down to his face. It was full of anxiety, confusion...maybe even a little insecurity. She softened to him and squeezed his hand reassuringly as she leaned over to kiss his lips. Oh, it was going to be so hard to keep from doing that at anytime of the day, now. "Don't worry. We'll both show them all it's best not to mess with someone else's private affairs. They may not like the results." She winked at him and smiled, he brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles warmly.

She uncurled her fingers from his hand, caressed a finger across his chin, then left.

She had some fitting to do on her costume for tomorrow and now, she had a little gift to design for her meddling colleagues.

Oh she would show them all right. She would remind them exactly what happens when they poke at a Gryffindor. Bold and Brash weren't just pretty words.


Dun-dun-dunh! Did you like it? What do you think she's up to? Muahaha! Xoxo Dena