"Sit!" She motioned to her couch and I found myself in the most uncomfortable position ever conceived: sitting in Miss Granger's living quarters. How we'd arrived at this point I wasn't sure. One moment we'd fought over the check, her insisting she'd owed me some sort of debt like I would allow such total disregard of propriety, then she'd accepted a ride in my car, and now I sat on her couch. She disappeared in the kitchen, preparing an after dinner cup of tea, and I found myself trying to awkwardly come up with an excuse to make my departure.

"I'm actually glad you came by," she shouted through the rooms. I was confused as I always seemed to find myself in her presence, but took small comfort at hearing her move about. It was a missed annoyance when I was at my home; since she'd left there were no noises of moving about.

She came into the living room with a smile and a book. She held it out to me and I took it hesitantly. A cook book?

"I ordered it for you," she explained. "After helping me like you have and seeing how much you liked to cook…" Her words trailed off, her face taking a questioning look.

"Thank you," I mumbled unsure what to do. I had never received a gift before, ever. I opened it, perusing a couple of pages, unsure what she would have me do. "It is a subtle science, an exact art. Done properly it can bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses." I offered in way of explaining my hobby. No one other than her, this librarian, was aware of my hobby.

"I believe I've heard that before," she mused. "I'd never thought of cooking like that."

"Yes, well," I cleared my throat.

She sat down in a chair across from me. "So how many others have you helped through their… change?"

I appreciated the change of topic, answering quickly. "Only two others, they had a much harder time than you."

She smiled softly, "Maybe your just getting better at teaching."

I scoffed, "Has little to do with it. Both women were completely aware of what was happening, but it seemed to be harder on their bodies than it was yours."

She looked away from me, "So is it always women that get changed? Or are they the only ones you've offered to help?"

Seeing the direction of the conversation I felt a foreign thrill shoot through me. "No, but they were the only ones to require my assistance at the time."

"Oh, were they friends of yours to begin with? Like you and I were?" So she was trying to label, I wasn't sure if I felt relieved or disappointed, but quickly dampened any wild thoughts on the subject.

"Yes, Lily and I had been friends for years before she was bitten. The other, whom I'm sure wouldn't appreciate being named, is an acquaintance's wife." Acquaintance? Lucius was a friend, not a mere acquaintance. Wasn't he?

"So who is Lily? I've never met a Lily here." Her questions were innocent enough, but brought a bleak change in the conversation and myself.

"Lily died… a long time ago." I didn't care to go into detail with Miss Granger and found a small measure of pleasure as her tea kettle whistled.

"Come here, I have something to show you while you're here." She beckoned me follow her. She pulled the kettle from the stove and then turned leading me back toward her bedroom. I reluctantly stepped into her bedding quarters and found myself frozen in shock.

She grasped the chains above her bed, a smile upon her face. "See, I went to the hardware store and was able to get almost the same thing you have." I looked up at her, unsure as ever what to say to the blasted woman. Who kept chains in their bedroom? I knew why she had them, but if someone ever caught wind then she'd be labeled many things that had no business being associated with her name. Her face fell as we stood there in silence. "I thought I wouldn't have to bother you now that I was able to stay here on my own."

Bother? Even if she couldn't remember the nights we spent together in my basement, I had never once implied she was a bother in the light of day. She couldn't remember practically begging for my company when she was changed, allowing me to stroke her fur, giving me the chance to study a werewolf without any danger. She was never a bother!

Seeing the sad look upon her face, forced me to bite out. "They look like they could hold you."

She brightened a little, but left the room. As I followed, I glimpsed back at the bright yellow comforter, the pictures along the dressers, and her private nest taking in every detail.

She already stood in the kitchen pouring two cups of tea. I moved to retrieve my own when she turned, forcing her body into my chest. She rocked unsteadily so I grasped her shoulders. It was that moment, the sweet scent she put off, the look in her eyes that had me act as I did. Those were my only excuses as I bent pressing my lips to hers. She didn't jerk away, nor did she move. I prodded her lips with my tongue and she granted me access to her sweet taste. As I stood there, relishing in the feelings washing over me, the rush, I was unable to stop myself. Her hands came up grasping my shirt pulling at me, her tongue met mine in an intimate dance, tasting and teasing. I allowed myself the chance to wrap my arms around her, to pull her warmth against me, but then my mind stepped back into play.

We stood in her kitchen, in front of a window where anyone could see. I jerked away from her, my breathing heavy, my eyes wide with the realization of what I had just done. She stood there in shock, her lips swollen and panting. I turned from the alluring picture she made, unable to control myself if I continued to stare at the temptation she offered.

"Good night Miss Granger." I stepped quickly through the kitchen and living room, making it through the front door before I heard her response.

"Good night Professor Snape." Her husky words sent shivers of pleasure through me and rocked my determination to the core. I was determined to leave her out of this mess of Voldemort. Getting involved with me would place her as a bargaining chip to both sides, but the fascination I felt was breaking down what barriers I had placed. I retrieved the gift she'd so graciously given me then escaped through the door, my route home plagued with regrets and fantasies. I could not give in.