Disclaimer: Read all the other ones in this story. . . . same sentiment!

Notes: I didn't want to leave you hanging so I've published up to the next SS/HG encounter. From here on in it heats up. . . . I have the ending around 18 chapters so some more heat will be injected in the very near future.

Chapter 12 Careless

Hermione stood outside Professor Snape's door promptly at 10am. She didn't even have to knock she just heard "Enter."

She opened the door and made her way in, dressed in her school robes and some comfortable shoes. She eyed his rooms and was secretly happy that he had not changed anything of her arrangement from the week before – all his potions, ingredients and she suspected clothing were still where she had put them. She smiled inwardly, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

He was seated at his desk, quill scratching something into a bit of parchment when he looked up at her. She had not entered his room timidly as he had expected, but rather with an inquisitive look on her face. Severus had hoped that his suggestion of wearing something more modest in his presence would stave the raising feeling he had in his gut when he had seen her last night, but in a way it had not. She had taken her long curly hair and tied it back, in a medieval type fashion – something reminiscent of Queen Guinevere rolled in at the sides and braded in the back – tied with a small red ribbon. It exposed her neck, which was delicate and shapely – some wild wisps of hair kissed her cheeks. . . . . he inhaled.

"You will find a book and all the ingredients you will need to prepare for the day there." He pointed to a small desk in the corner with everything she would need on it. "Read the book very carefully Miss Granger, a mistake at this stage could be bad for Professor Dumbledore."

She opened her mouth to ask why, but he raised his hand to silence her immediately. "I realize you make it your business to know everything, however there are just some things that must remain a mystery. I expect you to do your work here and give me the satisfaction of silence."

Her eyes narrowed slightly but she nodded anyway. This is going to be a great rest of the summer, she thought to herself. She moved towards the desk, it was facing him but across the room – so they had sufficient space but could still observe one another. She first took a look at the book with the potion opened in front of her. Potion of Staving, she read to herself. There was not much explanation there, just a very very complicated and extremely rare list of ingredients and preparations. She had never seen anything so complex and so time oriented. It would require almost constant supervision, particularly towards the end. . . . . it was well beyond her grade level.

Just the preparation of the ingredients would last a week, so she needed to start now. Already today she would be preparing ingredients for 8 hours. The potion would be ready just at the start of term September 15th. She could hear Professor Snape mutter under his breath and he read his mail and she shifted her eyes towards him. Something was bothering him. . . but when did it not? She started a fire under the cauldron near her and continued cutting the last of her ingredients . . . a root she could not pronounce the name of. It was getting warm and she could feel the sweat beading on her forehead, and her palms become slicker.

Severus Snape had been doing well, keeping his eyes off the girl in his lab/living space. She was far too innocent for him to look at, far too pure. . . . he needed to focus on the potion and finding someone to wed. He'd written several letters to "agencies" focused on these matters, finding a wife that would meet his standards of beauty, intelligence and . . . . leaving him alone not to be forgotten. Unfortunately, the letters he had received had not been hopeful – it was not making his day go well. To make it worse Dumbledore gave him until right before the start of term, the next Order Meeting, to find a bride. If he wasn't successful, the old codger would announce it to the entire order, ask for . . . assistance. He wanted to hit something.

He looked up to check on Hermione and saw her wiping her forehead with her robes, a soft bead of sweat trickling down her neck. It was not as though he had not had access to women and didn't take advantage of it. . . so what spell had the Granger girl put him under? Severus felt like a pubescent boy around her, the way she affected him. She is like you and then so different. . . . what do you see in her? Her sharp yelp woke him from his musings.

She'd cut herself, the knife had slipped and there was blood on the table. In a few swift strides Professor Snape was at her side but she attempted to pull her hand away, "It's just a small cut," She had said. She was not in the mood for one of his famous tirades.

Without asking he took her wrist in one hand and turned her palm up to look at the cut. He traced his rough fingers over her palm, his eyes fixed on the cut and the blood. She could not deny his touch was stimulating, that she wanted more. His sent was the same as the clothing in his trunk had been, spicy and full. He brought her hand so close to his face at one point that she though he might suck the blood from her finger.

"Do you feel ill Ms. Granger? Nausea, unsteady?" His question was matter of fact, no chiding to her surprise. He never took his eyes off her finger.

"Uh no sir, I'm fine really. . . "

"You are rather lucky I would say. Contact with this root when you have a cut can lead to sickness and then a slow painful . . . . and rather irreversible path to death. . . " his eyes fixated on hers, he pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it against her cut. "A careless thing to do Miss Granger."

There was something in his eyes, almost like he didn't want to let her go. He removed the handkerchief from her hand and without breaking eye contact with her he slowly traced a line from her wrist to her cut with his rough long .. . . and rather dexterous fingers. Her breath quickened, her body called out for more of this touch. . . and her cut disappeared.

Severus smirked at the girl's visceral reaction to his touch, curious as to whether the Princess of Gryffindor might enjoy more from him. He held her gaze a bit longer, then left her to her ingredients. "Oh Miss Granger, when you are done with that final ingredient you may leave." His voice was even and yet the way he had just dismissed her upset Hermione. She quickly turned her head down in order to avoid him looking at the flush of anger that had overcome her.

After she had cleaned her working space and left Severus rubbed his temples and sat at his desk, he was agitated. Even when she was not in the room he would glimpse her in his mind, her soft brown curls brushing against her collarbone, he way her tank tops clung to her body. . . . this didn't help his predicament any. He had to find a woman, no matter who she was she would be in danger and he would have to deal with the reality of that. . . . he ran his fingers through his raven black hair. The next meeting of the Order of the Phoenix was in 6 weeks, and then Albus would announce his embarrassing and ludicrous predicament he found himself in. On the upside the girl was an exceptional in potions, all the ingredients had been prepared to the letter, the potion to stave the dark magic creeping up Albus' arm could again be temporarily stopped. . . "Careless old man." He muttered to himself before pulling out a bottle of fire whiskey and a glass.