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Hermione harrumphed as Snape beckoned her to enter into the private space of his quarters. She followed him into a larger, cosy living area. A sofa was pushed against one side of the wall with a coffee table in front. An armchair was positioned in front of the adjacent wall. The fireplace was alight, spreading a nice warmth across the room. There was a study table and matching chair in the far corner and two doors that were closed. The remainder of the walls were covered with tall bookcases, every shelf filled to the end and some books stacked on top of others.

"It hasn't changed," she said. "But my rooms are bigger."

"I've been using these rooms since I started teaching here. Not much of a choice then since all the offices had been fully occupied." Snape gestured to an entry that Hermione hadn't noticed. "The kitchen is through this way."

Hermione had never actually had the time to take a tour around his rooms. All the other times she had been in here was spent discussing something related to the school or seeking his opinion on the Defence syllabus or how to handle certain situations with the students. Now that she was getting an actual tour, she realised how terribly intimate the whole thing was. At least, that's how it seemed in her mind.

"I promised to show you the Potions syllabus, didn't I?" Snape walked over to the desk and sorted out a few folders before extracting one. "Have a seat."

Hermione settled herself onto the sofa, trying not to sink too deeply into the soft cushions. Snape joined her, leaving a respectable distance between themselves, and slid the folder across the coffee table. She leafed through the parchments slowly, aware that he had his gaze trained on her. When she finally reached the end and raised her head, he raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Well?"

"Clear layout and concise points."

A pleased look crossed the wizard's face before it disappeared. "Any questions?"

"Yes."

"Of course." He rolled his eyes.

She hit him gently with the file and laughed. "Idiot."

Then she began asking him questions about certain parts she was not too clear about. Snape answered her queries one by one, even going as far as to explain his pedagogy. His eyes were twinkling the entire time and gave her the impression that he was amused at how they were recreating a student-teacher role, but this time she was trying to learn the art of teaching Potions from him. Hermione found herself unexplainably drawn to this version of Severus Snape who, instead of brushing her off like how he used to do, was much more patient and understanding.

When she was finally done with the questioning, Snape heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief. "That was more intense than any meeting I've had with the Board of Governors."

"What an exaggeration." Hermione laughed. "Have you got anything to drink? I'm so parched after all that talking."

He looked at her incredulously. "Was it me or you doing most of the talking?" But he stood up and headed in the direction of the kitchen. "Tea, orange juice or water?"

"Do you have anything a bit stronger? I could really do with something to knock me out or I'll be up the whole night thinking about the morning Potions class."

Snape paused in the entrance to the kitchen and he didn't hide the look of astonishment crossing his face. "Well, well. A Bénédictine, perhaps? If you drink it straight, you'll probably be flat out in a few minutes."

Hermione's mouth twisted at the name of the French liqueur. As herbal as it may be, she didn't have the mood to drink anything that reminded her of a certain Frenchwoman who was too close to Snape. Had she been the one to give him the Bénédictine? To Snape, she calmly said, "I prefer something closer to my heart. Like Firewhiskey."

"Closer to your heart? Of course, reminds me of that night you came home drunk." Snape sneered. "I have Ogden's if that's fine?"

"I was not drunk and yes, thank you."

Snape reappeared a few minutes later with one mug, two glasses and a bottle of the Firewhiskey. "I hope you don't mind if I join you."

"It's your bottle."

Snape passed the mug to Hermione. "A bit of warm water to ease your thirst."

She smiled gratefully and gulped it down while Snape poured a decent amount of Firewhiskey for both of them.

"Was it Dujardin who introduced you to the Bénédictine?" Hermione bit her lip as she mentally berated herself for being nosy.

Snape frowned. "It was Minerva. She takes it to keep herself warm on winter nights. She has yet to fully recover from the four stunners that were shot at her. Do you remember that incident?"

Hermione's eyes had widened at that information. "That was ages ago. I thought she was all clear!"

He gave a derisive snort. "That's what she had everyone believe. But Poppy told me otherwise since I had to help brew some potions for Minerva after she returned from St. Mungo's."

"I had no idea," murmured Hermione, sipping on the Firewhiskey.

"But don't go asking her. She's sensitive about it."

Hermione shook her head vigorously. "Oh, no. Of course not."

His face took on a faraway look. "When Minerva found me a little worse for wear during certain periods after I had been in the presence of the Dark L—Riddle, she forced me to take it. I cannot deny it works far better than a draught of Dreamless Sleep."

At this admission, Hermione's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You don't say?"

"The Dreamless Sleep is, after all, meant to dull the imaginative faculties of the mind to allow sleep to come over naturally. Sometimes, when weariness is bone deep or when injuries are far too painful to be numbed by magic alone, a splash of Bénédictine in the Dreamless Sleep does a fine trick."

"Have you tried using it as an ingredient in your potions?"

Snape didn't answer but raised his glass to Hermione before taking a sip as he surveyed her over the rim of his glass.

"Sneaky."

"When you reach my age, you'll understand. After years of doing the same thing, you would want to experiment and push the boundaries."

"You speak as if you are so much older than me." Hermione helped herself to another round of Firewhiskey.

"You do realise we are almost one generation apart?"

"Like what? Twenty years?" Hermione smirked. "You're wrong there."

His eyebrow rose. "In what way?"

"You would be the same age as Remus and Sirius if they were still around." Hermione shrugged. "That's probably about a 15- or 16-year difference."

"And you are wrong in that aspect. I am not the same age as them."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "How old are you then?"

"Thirty-nine this year."

Hermione did a quick mental calculation. Then she shook her head. "But you were in the same year as Remus and Sirius and –"

"Yes," interrupted Snape. "I started Hogwarts early. My mother wanted me away from my father as soon as I started showing signs of magic. The earliest I could be sent off to a boarding school was at seven years of age. Albus made an exception given our situation."

"Hmm," she murmured. "That is quite something. How did you cope with the work at such a young age? And you must have been so tiny compared to all the eleven year olds!"

"I have always been rather tall for my age." Snape paused before continuing, "And it helped that Lily was able to guide me for the first few years at Hogwarts. I kept to myself mostly. It's not something I would have wanted my peers to find out."

"Understandable." Hermione nodded. "So we've only thirteen years between us then. Not that much, I should say."

Snape's eyebrow rose. "I know for a fact that Draco is turning twenty-four this year. I assume you'd be the same age as him."

"I started 2 years late. My parents wanted me to finish at the school I was attending and then join Hogwarts the following year. Dumbledore made an exception."

"Seems he does that more frequently than one would have realised." Snape's eyes were trained on her and unmoving.

"It's my birthday tomorrow." Hermione didn't know why she suddenly wanted to share this bit of information.

He didn't respond immediately but she was keenly aware of his eyes on her. Suddenly the distance between Snape—Severus—and her didn't seem so great anymore. Thirteen years was not large by wizarding standards but it was also nothing to sneeze at. Hermione frowned. Remus and Tonks had a large age gap as well. Would it be looked upon in the same light? The people around them had been quite receptive. But that's because it's Remus, thought Hermione. Snape—Severus—was on a whole other dimension.

"-be, Granger?"

She flushed. Her thoughts had been preoccupied with other matters that she had neglected to pay attention. "Sorry, could you please repeat that?"

He smirked "I asked, if you had anything you desire, what would it be?"

"Desire?"

Hermione's mouth went dry at that word. Her heart rate accelerated and she found her concentration, once more, captured by the way Snape's muscles were taut under his t-shirt since he had an arm stretch out across the back of the sofa. His sleeves had been pushed up to the elbows sometime that evening and she could see the sinewy muscles on his forearms. She followed the V-shape of his body to his waist where a bit of skin was visible where the t-shirt had bunched up. It also didn't help matters that she had a clear view of a very snug crotch since he was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, his right ankle resting on his left knee. Even Ron didn't have much bulk at the crotch, she thought.

Snape cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow. Hermione flushed under his gaze. "I, uh -"

"Well? Your desire?"

Hermione swallowed. "Perhaps, a once in a lifetime experience."

Snape grinned. "That is quite vague. How about something tangible?"

"Tangible?" Could a tangible desire be something like a chance to run her hand over—NO. She yelled in her mind. What was wrong with her?

"Like a book, for instance."

"Book?"

"Yes, Granger. A book."

She flushed again. "Well, I've always wanted a copy of Dark Arts Through the Ages. Why do you ask?"

"I thought I could fulfil that desire of yours if I had it with me. Unfortunately, I am not in possession of that particular book." Snape looked quite put out by it that Hermione started laughing.

"Oh, it's nothing so serious. I'm sure I'll get my hands on it one day. Maybe I could lend it to you if you were also interested in that title?"

"I shall have to trouble you, then." He raised his glass to her.

"No trouble at all." Just have to stop drinking before I really commit a faux pas, she thought. She drained the last few drops in the glass and stood up. "Thank you for dinner and drinks. And some lovely conversation. I had best get going now before I end up sleeping here with you."

She bit her lip at the clumsiness of her sentence, hoping Snape wouldn't have noticed and quickly made her way to the entrance, grabbing her bag along the way. She didn't want to wait for him because she didn't trust herself to say the right things anymore.

"Granger, wait!"

Hermione was halfway out of the door and turned at the call. Snape approached her while holding up her cloak.

"You forgot this."

Hermione made to reach for it but he swung it around her body, pulling her close to him in the process. His fingers slid down the top of the cloak, leaving a cool trail against her neck. Goosebumps rose on her arms at the contact and she shivered involuntarily. He gathered the two ribbons at the top of the cloak and set about tying it securely, his eyes not leaving hers.

"I wouldn't mind if you did fall asleep here." His voice came out in a low purr, snaking its way into her ears and causing her insides to tighten in ways she hadn't realised it could.

"Oh." Hermione wished she could say something smart in response. But her brain was failing her at the moment. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Granger."

Hermione walked towards the entrance to the deserted stairwell as best as she could without seeming like she was in a hurry. She turned as she pulled the door open. Snape was leaning against the door to his office, watching her with such intensity that she felt another shiver run down her spine. Hermione fled through the door and took the stairs two at a time, not daring to breathe until she reached her rooms and collapsed onto her bed.