A/N: *checks around corner to make sure no one's throwing things at me* I know, I haven't updated for two weeks. I'm sorry! I moved, and I'm still getting used to my new job. Please don't be mad. I would have had this done earlier, but I had to look a couple things up, do some research, and make sure it was perfect. I find this the most difficult of my stories to write because I'm trying to keep them as in character as possible.
I got the idea from a date the husband and I went on at a fundraisingthing. It wasn't a professional restaurant, but it was an experience either way. And some of the most fun I've had on a date, though a bit messy. Dans Le Noir? is an actual place, and it does involve dining in complete darkness which is a lot of fun because you don't know what you're about to eat, you have to rely on your other senses, and no one cares if you forgo the knife and fork because no one sees. Though I did manage to eat a plate of risotto in the dark with my fork, though I found a few grains decided they'd rather be on my shirt. Nothing to make you feel more like a two year old...
Please review, even if you do need to yell at me for making you wait. I promise that I'll try to be quicker about it in the future.
She had seven outfits laid across her bed, and was now marching up and down, eying each one as if she were a General inspecting her troops. She finally decided that the best way to decide was to eliminate until she came down to a single one.
The first went because it was green. Wearing green on a date with a Slytherin almost seemed desperate. So that one went back into the closet.
The second went because it was red. Wearing red almost seemed as if she were trying to draw the old house lines in the sand again, and might start the day off on a hostile tone.
The third went because it was too short. She had her fun with Snape, and she didn't want to advertise that she was looking for anything like it again just yet.
The fourth went because it was too old looking. He knew she was no prude, why cover most her legs in a dumpy-looking dress?
The fifth went because it was too formal. It might give the impression she was expecting him to spend a lot of money on her, and that she was high-maintenance.
The sixth went because it was too casual. She didn't want to look as if she had no interest.
That left the final outfit- a simple, ruched black dress. It covered the bump. Sadly she had to admit that, while probably not noticeable to the casual observer, a tight outfit would reveal the small betrayal of what was underneath. While the baby was constantly on her mind, she hadn't given much thought to the fact that she was starting to grow a little until her favorite jeans started feeling a little more snug. Reluctantly she had shelved them for a looser-fitting pair, knowing they would only become more tight in the coming months. And while she didn't want to forget she was pregnant, she didn't want the baby to be the only topic of conversation, and she really didn't want Snape uncomfortably staring at it all night.
Slowly she began to get ready, forcing herself to take calming breaths every so often. Why did it feel so wrong to be going on a date with Severus Snape? Maybe it was just nerves, or maybe it felt wrong to be calling it a 'first date' when, in less than six months, she would be holding their child.
She got dressed and went to her living room to wait. Her nieces, who had been over earlier, had left a mess on the floor, and she decided to pick it up by hand. Snape had said he preferred to go out to a Muggle place, but she still tucked her wand into her purse just in case. Once she had finished cleaning she sat in her lounge chair, an open book unread on her lap, as she became progressively more nervous.
At Hogwarts Snape was also finishing getting dressed. His hair had been tied back neatly at the nape of his neck. He wore black slacks, shirt, and jacket, and debated adding a deep green tie before deciding it might look too stuffy, and it didn't really matter where they were going anyways. He had discretely polled some of the staff, as well as listened into some of the older students, and had come across an idea that he was sure would be perfect for two people who wanted to have a meaningful conversation over dinner more than anything else. He booked reservations, converted some of his gold to Muggle money, and it was soon going to be time to see if Hermione would take to his idea.
Once ready he strode through the castle, thankful that there weren't many students around to give him quizzical looks, and through the grounds until he was outside the walls of the castle. Steeling himself he Apparated to a safe point in an alley just around the corner from Hermione's house, then stalked through the twilight to her door.
She jumped up as soon as she heard the doorbell ring, straightened her dress, and walked to the door. She counted to three before opening.
"Professor," she said, looking over his outfit, sounding impressed.
"Miss Granger," he replied, though without a hint of the venom he had spat those same words with so many times. "You look lovely tonight."
"Thank you," she said, closing her door behind her. She made sure it had a locking charm on it before she tucked her wand away and turned to him.
"Shall we?" he asked, holding out an arm for her.
They walked toward the safe point in the alley. She was unable to take the silence. "Where are we going?" she asked.
"Always with the questions," he sighed, sounding slightly frustrated. "Can you not trust me?"
She felt a wave of irritation pass over her, but she let it pass. She held onto his arm as he tightened his grip on her and Apparated to another alley in London. They made sure no one was looking, then he steered her across the street and started walking along the window shops.
She didn't ask anything because she didn't want to hear a diatribe, so she just let him lead her down a few streets, past a few shops where she pointed out some interesting window displays, past a couple crowded restaurants, and finally stopping in front of their destination.
"Dans Le Noir?" she asked, reading the sign above the door. "What? Don't want to see me at all tonight?"
"I have it on good authority that it will change the way you think of food," he said, opening the door for her.
"Whose authority?"
"Minerva came here just a few months back with a 'special friend'."
She opened her mouth, but shuddered at the thought of Minerva McGonagall getting physical with anyone. She seemed so... asexual.
Inside they chose their menu, and Hermione locked up her purse. Snape got himself a glass of wine, she ordered herself a non-alcoholic cocktail while they sat. They waited for a few minutes, then a guide came to lead them to their table. Snape didn't want to touch the man, so Hermione planted her hands on his shoulders, let Snape place a hand on hers, and were led through the curtain. Immediately Hermione could hear dozens of people around them, having conversations, clinking glasses accidentally against plates they couldn't see, the misguided attempt at putting a fork to the food. She realized she was completely at the mercy of the man walking them to their table, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling, not unlike the time she and Harry followed who they thought was Bathilda Bagshot into her home. Quickly she realized that the worst the Muggle man in front of them could do was make them accidentally bump into a table or knock someone trying to take a drink, and she let the unnerved feeling pass.
The guide, who said his name was Anthony, helped them into their seats and said he'd return with their first course soon. He placed the glass of wine in front of Snape, and the drink in front of Hermione.
"This must be difficult for you, being in a dark room with complete strangers," she said, partially to know where Severus was sitting in relation to her. She felt the side of the table, it was square, and feeling the wall behind her she realized they were sitting in a corner. She placed her drink in a place that was two inches from her plate, so she'd know exactly where it was.
"It does make the other... senses more attuned," he said softly, and she could tell he was sitting to her left.
"Like what?" she asked curiously.
"There is a foursome sitting approximately twenty feet to my left. One of the men is gloating about a rather profitable business transaction he made this week. He's lying."
"Unbelievable," she said, rolling her eyes, safe in the knowledge that he couldn't see her doing so. "What, exactly, made you come to that conclusion?"
"Inflections in his voice. He is much bolder, much more boastful, now that his face cannot betray if he is telling the truth or not."
"You can hear all that, from twenty feet away, and tell his is lying?"
"It comes from years of experience hearing students lie to me about why they couldn't get their homework done, and from thinking they were sitting too far away from me for me to overhear them."
She felt her face go red when she realized a particularly racy conversation she had with Parvati Patil in their third year while in Snape's class, under that very assumption. Parvati had admitted a not-so-small crush on Professor Lupin, while Hermione had admitted that she thought Lupin was a nice man, but her crush on an older-man was not for her Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Parvati, who noticed her cheeks going pink, correctly deduced that the crush concerned the man who was teaching them a the time, called her 'nuts' and went to work chopping ingredients, never revealing the crush to anyone.
"So," she managed to sound as casual as possible. "How do you know that's not just how he talks normally? Doesn't one usually need a reference point?"
"I have a reference point," he whispered even lower. "You forget my other skills when it comes to finding out if someone is lying or not."
"Severus Snape," she hissed, sounding like a prefect. "You stay out of that Muggle's mind!"
"One can never be too careful," he said dismissively. "Especially when certain people want one dead, and a restaurant with no light would be a perfect place to do it."
She huffed and crossed her arms. "Do you honestly think some Dea... some D.E. is going to come try to assassinate you?" she muttered so low she wasn't sure if he could hear it.
"It never hurts to be too careful," he muttered back as the waiter arrived with their first course. She dropped the subject only because she was sure the waiter might overhear something they shouldn't be letting slip. Knowing where he was going must have helped, because Anthony expertly placed their food, asked if they needed any drink refills, and left.
She carefully felt the top of her food. She knew it was some kind of risotto, and thus probably something she didn't want to eat with her hands as once had Danielle tell her about. She groped for her fork and, using her other hand to feel the side of the plate, started eating. The food was good, and she could tell that whatever Snape was eating (and she could distinguish it's smell from that of her own food, his smelled good as well) he must be enjoying because he didn't sound disgusted when he spoke again.
"I heard that you are quite the stickler for the rules when it comes to your committee," he said.
"I wouldn't so much call it a stickler for rules as much as a realist. Most of the creatures that make it as far as my committee are dangerous and need to be disposed of. I'm just doing that for the safety of others," she replied.
"And how do you make the determination for a creature that you might not be so sure about? Do you give them the benefit of the doubt?"
"I try to," she snapped, irritated he was questioning her judgment. "Many of the animals that come before us are pets, loved and well cared-for. I would not put a dog to sleep because it bit someone if that someone just so happened to be breaking into his house. You have to look at the circumstances, the type of creature, and the care and setting it's being watched over in."
"And if your dear friend Hagrid should appear before you with another one of his bizarre 'friends'?"
"I love Hagrid," she said stiffly. "But I'd have to weigh his feelings against the safety of those around him. He does live at the school, with many trouble makers who don't always follow rules and guidelines set up for their own safety, and I wouldn't want anything around that might wind up killing a wayward student. If it were up to me I never would have let him breed those... things for the tournament, I don't care if they needed something else in that maze."
"You do seem to have found a balance, then, between your job and your feelings."
"Yes. Because it is my job to maintain at least the appearance of impartiality."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" he asked dangerously.
"You may have changed somewhat since the end of the war, but you cannot tell me you weren't completely biased against my old house. And, from what I've heard, still are to some degree," she replied.
"Maybe those students who live in your old house have a tendency to be more reckless and quicker to break rules, and thus earn punishments, than those students in other houses."
"Or maybe," she hissed quietly, "you have a grudge from nearly thirty years ago that you just can't get past, and you're still taking it out on those students you feel represent those who wronged you in the past because you don't seem to realize that not all Gryffindors are James Potter and Sirius Black. Let it go, Severus!"
She knew she had gone too far the moment she said it. She stared down in the direction of her plate, immediately wishing she hadn't pushed. He didn't return, he didn't make a sound, from what she could hear he didn't even move. Part of her wanted to reach out and feel him, just to make sure he didn't manage to Disapparate silently. Anthony announced himself again, cleared their plates away and placed new ones in front of them, but neither moved to start eating after he had left.
Slowly, cautiously, she felt around the corner of the table, and, half expecting to not feel anything, she reached out her hand. Her fingers made contact with fabric, and with a quick touch she knew she had found his arm, which was crossed over his chest. She brought her hand to his shoulder and rested it there, fingers absentmindedly playing with his hair.
"I'm sorry, Severus," she whispered, hoping that if he was using Legillimency on her that he knew she really meant it. "I shouldn't expect you to just get over what happened to you. Goodness knows I'll never forgive Bellatrix for what she did to me, and I'm not going to lie and say I'm sorry she's dead."
"You're entitled to your opinions about how long school grudges should be held," he muttered, still not moving.
"But that doesn't mean I should force those opinions of you."
"No one," he said, maneuvering his arm so he could take her hand in his. "Not even Potter knows the full story about what happened between us that night. I would appreciate it if you held off on passing judgment on me until such a time that you do."
"It was a spur of the moment thing. More a defense of my own house than a commentary on you and your situation. I should have been more sensitive," she replied, running her fingers lightly over his.
She heard him let out a small chuckle, and would have paid anything to see his face. "Our conversations are certainly not the same when we're not in the presence of Potter and his somewhat hot-tempered wife."
She opened her mouth to protest him calling Ginny 'hot-tempered', but shut it again when she realized that while it sounded harsh, it wasn't too far off the truth. "We don't have anyone to steer us back to the pleasant side of things," she remarked instead.
"While the conversation might not have been ideal, I enjoy the situation much better," he said, hand closing around hers.
Acting on impulse she reached over with her other hand, and as if she could see him perfectly well her fingers found his face. She guided his face down to hers, and pressed her lips to his. Kissing him in the dark, after all her other senses had been heightened by the lack of sight, was a very different situation than what she remembered from their night together. She could focus on the feeling of his lips moving against hers, smell the aura of different potions ingredients on him, hear him sigh as if he wasn't sure this moment would have come. It was one of the most sensual experiences of her life, images of their night together flashed in her brain, and part of her started yearning to re-live that night.
The conversation stayed pleasant for the rest of the meal. After their dessert, they were led back out the curtain by Anthony and stood by the lockers for a moment as their eyes got used to the visual stimulation again. Once they both felt confident in their abilities to walk without tripping over anything again they made their way out onto the street and back to the alley. He took his jacket off and wrapped it around her before Apparating them back to the safe point by her house, and she held it tightly as they walked through her neighborhood to her house.
"Here," she muttered, stripping off the jacket and handing it back to him as they walked up to her front door. "If I keep it I might as well start a collection of your jackets, seeing as I still have that one you left here that night."
"If you're that hard up for clothes, Miss Granger, you might want to reconsider working for the Ministry, which is known for paying people far less than they're worth."
"Do you want your jacket back or no?" she said in mock frustration.
"Maybe next time?" he raised an eyebrow, the only part of his face that betrayed any part of what he was thinking.
"I'd like that," she smiled. Slowly he bent his head to give her another kiss, though this was much more chaste than the one they shared at the restaurant.
"You have a very nosy neighbor," he said, nodding slightly towards the house across the street where Hermione could see the curtains opened a crack.
"She's like Harry's Aunt Petunia, prides herself in knowing everyone's business and being the first to gossip about it," she rolled her eyes.
"And I'm assuming you'll be the topic du jour tomorrow?"
"Then I might as well earn it," she muttered, pulling him down for another kiss.
If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn she saw the corners of his mouth upturned slightly when he pulled away from her.
"Next Saturday it's my turn to pick. I'm going to have a time topping eating in the complete dark," she said, not quite ready to let go of his hand.
"I look forward to it," he said, pulling away from her. "Goodnight, Hermione."
"Goodnight, Severus," she replied. She turned to unlock the door. Nosy neighbor must have closed her curtains, because when she turned to get one last look at the Potions Master he had disappeared.