Hermione fidgeted on the black leather couch, keeping her mind as blank as possible to keep herself from having another panic attack. Snape had left her there alone, announcing he was going to his potions stores. On his way out of the room, she heard him mutter something about "clumsy bleeding Gryffindors," at which she assumed he was referring to the cuts and scrapes she had acquired during her attempt at escaping.

Looking around his living room, she noticed that it was, of course, dark, and the only light in the room was emanating from the fireplace. The walls were lined with nothing but multiple bookshelves, which she noted with an inward, 'Surprise, surprise...'

Asides from the couch she was sitting on, the only other piece of furniture in the room was a large, comfy looking black leather club armchair, paired with a small side table that had a glass and a bottle of Old Odgen's atop it. There wasn't even anything on his mantle other than more books and a small pot, which Hermione assumed was floo powder. There was a large dark green rug covering the expanse of the sitting area, but otherwise the floors were bare. Yes, it was precisely how she imagined their rooms would be, devoid of natural decor and filled with books.

She jumped violently when she heard the door open behind her.

Quickly turning, her hand immediately grabbed hold of the wand in her pocket before she realized it was only Snape. She sheepishly released her wand and removed her hand from her pocket slowly.

The man did not miss her reaction to his entry, which made his lip curl upward slightly. "Paranoid, Miss Granger?"

She gave him a stony look. "After spending a year in the wilderness on the run from a madman, I think I might have a right to be." With an added thought she said, "And it's not Granger anymore, sir."

He raised an intrigued eyebrow. "Indeed. Perhaps... It would be best if we began using given names with one another. This is going to be difficult enough without constantly being reminded of my position over you."

She nodded mutely, the pit of her stomach freezing over as she was once again reminded of what she had just done and what she was about to do. He stood in place silently for a moment before walking around the couch and handing two flasks to her. "Essence of Dittany for your injuries – I hope this won't be a common occurrence for you. The red vial is a personal creation, Obstaret Claritate. I'm sure you know enough Latin to guess what that means."

Hermione nodded in a distracted manner, examining the two potions as she took them from his grasp. She uncorked the Dittany began dabbing the potion at the bloody spots on her knees and elbows. The sensation of the potion working made her feel a little nauseated. She only had to wait for a few moments until she felt the tell-tale tightening of her skin. She looked at the ragged holes in the knees of her jeans and watched the scrapes slowly fade away. It was uncomfortable, but the tight feeling slowly attenuated away.

After the healing potion had finished its job, she turned her attention to the red potion, intently staring it down, as though she was trying to see every ingredient in it.

"Will I regret this?" she asked hesitantly.

There was silence for only a moment before he responded.

"Possibly."

She turned to look at him, only offering a quiet sigh.

Swallowing thickly, she uncorked the bottle with slightly shaking hands. Giving Snape one last glance, she tipped it to her lips and let the spicy sweetness of the potion run down her throat. The taste wasn't deplorable, surprisingly, but the fact that it tasted decent didn't make her feel any better. She returned her gaze to the now-empty flask, inwardly awaiting the effects of the potion.

She didn't move from her place on the couch as Snape strode over to his chair-side table and procured his glass, pouring himself a large portion of firewhiskey. It only took moments for Hermione to begin to feel a warmth start forming in her stomach. It didn't take long to slowly commence to spreading outward, reaching her chest and expanding to her extremities. Once the warmth reached behind her eyes, she felt as though her mind had been covered with a thin layer of mesh. She could still think unhindered, but details became fuzzier, out of focus. Not so important.

The warmth increased a great deal, relaxing her tensed muscles and slowly chipping way at the panic settled in her nerves. She knew what she had to do, but somehow, it wasn't that big of a deal just then. She was looking at the much bigger picture, the one that told her that once that minor inconvenience was out of the way, everything would smooth out considerably. Breaking from her thoughts, Hermione looked at the dark wizard seemingly sulking next to the fireplace.

The dancing shadows from the fire illuminated the man in a way she didn't believe she had ever seen before. His pale complexion was smooth, and she realized that he actually didn't look all that old. She knew he was only thirty-seven, which was practically a teenager in wizarding years. His shoulder-length black hair settled elegantly, barely touching his shoulders, the finer strands blowing lightly around his face from the energy of the fire. His frame was lean, but she could tell the muscle that lay underneath from years of espionage and fighting for his life. Like her, robes can make any figure deceiving.

"Professor Snape?"

He snapped his attention from his glass and the fire to her soft, questioning tone. He had apparently been deep in thought. His gaze on her only lasted a second more before he looked down, swirling his drink lightly and smoothly imbibing the rest of the glass. He then looked back up at her, smirking slightly. "I'm fairly certain it would be inappropriate for you to continue to address me as your professor, especially considering I will no longer be teaching you."

"Oh?" she asked, noting how her voice made her sound dazed. Deep in her mind, she knew if she was "sober", that statement would have caused her insurmountable alarm.

"Hnn, yes. Imagine the outrage that would ensue if people found that you were married to your professor."

Hermione nodded, understanding. Her usual self still would have raised hell, but the potion, funnily enough, helped her think more clearly and logically. She could see everything on a larger scale much more clearly. Besides, the rules in Hogwarts, A History only said that teachers couldn't pursue relationships with students if the of-age student was in one of their classes. "Private tutoring?"

He nodded almost solemnly. "It shouldn't prove difficult. The headmistress has agreed to allow you early graduation from Potions if your semester grades are up to par, and I will privately tutor you before your N.E.W.T.s. Your usual Potions period will now be a... study hall, I suppose."

Hermione only let the details skim over her mind. She already understood the situation, and she could very well see why they took the route they did. She really felt as though she should be more outraged or excited.

She decided to stand and stretch, the potion making her extending muscles groan in complete satisfaction. She let out a small moan, the sensation absolutely wonderful to her. Drawing the stretch out longer than necessary, she was aware that the potion must release endorphins on a mental and physical level. She had to force herself to stop stretching before casually walking to the fireplace with a heady feeling and began reading the titles. She ran a delicate finger over the spines of the tomes, not really paying much attention to the what the titles meant but enjoying the closeness to something comforting to her. Her inner mind tried to panic slightly at her disregard for the danger any of Snape's books probably posed, but those notions were squashed flat with her sensibility. She knew the man was no fool and probably kept his dangerous books locked away, and certainly not on his mantle.

"Hermione."

She unconsciously gasped at her name on his lips, as if it were the first time anyone had spoken her name aloud. His voice was a purring rumble, her name rolling easily from his usually sharp tongue. She slowly turned her head towards him, aware a little too late of their close proximity next to the fire. Her brown eyes locked with his onyx, and for the second time that night, Severus Snape took her by the waist and kissed her.

Unlike the kiss which sealed their lives together, however, this one was more lasting, and he took care to be slow and gentle.

'So unSnape like...'

She allowed herself to start moving her mouth back against his, still hesitant with inexperience. His lips tasted of spearmint, and she could smell the spice of his cologne. He nibbled at her lower lip with his teeth, making her gasp lightly into his mouth. Taking his opportunity, he delved his tongue between her teeth, sensually massaging her own. She felt his skillful hands slide further around her waist and pull her closer, and she was shocked to feel such a firm body pressed against hers. He emanated power and strength, which was exciting and intimidating to her at the same time. Cautiously wrapping her arms around his neck, she decided to try exploring his tongue with her own, reciprocating the sensation. The feeling was incredible, and at the moment she couldn't care less if it was the potion or not.

Hermione didn't know when it had happened, but suddenly the two of them were both in what she assumed was his darkened bedroom. She felt herself backed into the bed as he removed his lips from hers before trailing them down her along jaw and neck. His meticulous hands slowly began undoing her robes, and there was a certain concupiscence to how smoothly his fingers worked. Once he had her robes pulled away from her, he laid her back and worked on the buttons of her shirt, his fingers diligently and flawlessly making quick work of them. As he removed her shirt, he pulled back to look at her. She saw a glint of confusion in his eye, which he immediately masked by attacking her mouth once more, his hands moving to her jeans this time. Once he got the fasteners undone, she noticed that he definitely hesitated before pulling them off of her in one smooth motion.

He pulled back once more, taking in her body in only her undergarments. She immediately felt a blush creep up her cheeks as he gave her a quick look that told her something bothered him. Whatever it was, though, she didn't know, and it didn't stop him as he masterfully lifted her and unclasped her bra in one quick motion, settling her back onto the bed before she realized what he did. Her deep inner mind was screaming at her to cover herself, but, again, the bigger picture overrode, reiterating that it needed to be done. After settling that small argument with herself, she realized in vague horror that her knickers were already gone, too.

When she saw her Potions Master disrobe, she felt a slight thrill run through her, and the rest of the night seemed to melt away, as though a dream.