There was a sudden thudding at the door, which sounded like Damien Plath was trying to bludger down the whole thing using only his head. Snape started up, a familiar predatory spark in his eyes, but Hermione put her hand on his shoulder.

, she said, though not quite as strongly as he might have expected, I'll get it. It would upset him to know you're in here. He gave her an unconvincing bow, and ushered her to the door.

She opened the door, and her fiancé charged into her, nearly flattening her against the wall. She smiled in good natured toleration, but Snape saw that the patience that she possessed only a few hours before was gone. Jus' checkin', love. You look absolutely fabulous in that dress, he said, pawing eagerly a virginal 15 year old might. Snape rolled his eyes in disgust.

Hermione was mortified at being practically molested in front of her former teacher. Her pride, though somewhat diminished, was still a particularly volatile aspect to her personality, and she wished to at least keep some of it in front of Snape. She wondered idly why his opinion had become so important all of a sudden. Lord knows that she had rarely thought of him before, but suddenly, after seeing him again, she felt the odd tightness in her chest, that spread slowly down past her belly. If she was lusting after her former professor, well, then Damien was surely not sufficient enough.

Damien, stop, she snapped, in a no-nonsense voice. He immediately looked up at her, apology so earnest in his eyes, she felt ashamed. Then, she felt sickened. The way he looked at her made her feel the way that young boys look at their mothers, expectant, wanting to be spoilt, demanding, attention whores. She closed her eyes, and rubbed her temples absently as both men watched her for a response. Dame, go, I'll be out in twenty minutes. I've got to finish putting my makeup on, she said quietly, barely concealing disgust and impatience as she kissed his cheek.

Snape regarded her thoughtfully, through his sleepy eyes. Hermione Granger was finally gaining some ground, in fact, the expression in her eyes as she kissed her husband looked remarkably like hatred. She glanced up at him, and something so darkly seductive replaced it, that his breath literally became caught in his chest. He raised an eyebrow at her, but he was struggling to regain countenance. Damien nodded, happy as an idiotic clam, and trotted away.

Hermione stared after him, knowing that if she abandoned all pretenses of getting married, it would be the last stable attempt at a life she would never see again. Snape was the least stable, not to mention one of the most unpleasant men she could imagine herself entangled with. She yawned, suddenly extremely tired.

I still don't understand why you care, she began again, turning lazily back to him, rationalizing that if the wedding weren't to happen anyway, there was no need to hurry. He smirked at her, Playing persistent, are we? all right then, Miss Granger, I shall answer your question.....when you answer mine. She nodded, not thinking that because this was Snape, after all, things would never be quite as they seemed.

How did you meet your....significant other? And on what pretense are you marrying him under?, his voice even more velvet, the folds and subte hints as dark as ever. She closed her eyes and shivered, suddenly cold beneath his tone. To hear a voice as singularly melodious as his, just listening to it all day, that would be paradise. Her eyes flew open again, and she stared at him crossly, trying to force him to become repulsive to her. It of course made him more alluring.

We met at one of Harry's games, he was playing for the Griffin Grounders. I think he was beater or someone like that, something with a bat, anyway, he was handsome and charming, and extremely friendly. He didn't strike me as the athletic type, all their bristly maleness, so I didn't question his intelligence. His aversion to books and all things academic didn't really deter me. After all, Ron and Harry are about as indisposed to all things bookish as you could think of, so I was used to being the odd man out. Funny how Dame never made me feel like that, the way Ron and Harry always did, she said, finishing self consciously, suddenly aware of his almost placid gaze. His eyes raked, almost appreciatively, over her dress again. She crossed her arms over her breasts. He stopped.

So, anyway, I fell in love with him, even though he had a bed hopping period. I figured sports figures were inclined to sleep around, all those lusty wenches (this provoked an affirmative growl from her interrogator, which she chose to overlook). He proposed, a year after we had been dating, and I said yes. Why shouldn't I? I was happy, and I didn't really think of what it would mean if I married him, and up until you showed up, Snape, I doubt I would ever have, she finished, almost resentfully, her angry brown eyes boring holes into his suddenly averted stare.

She suddenly kicked up her skirt in a tornado of velvet and silk, creating a lovely ruffling sound, and stuck her boot out. He looked wryly up at her, wondering if it was an invitation or a warning. She rolled her eyes, reading his thoughts.

I'm not a lusty wench, you lecher. Anyway, I need help unlacing the bloody things. I've been trying to all afternoon, it feels like my toes've been frozen off, she said snappishly. She knew what a suggestive offer she was making, and was all too aware of his heightened discomfort, as well as a certain arousal. She was gauging him, testing the Snape infested waters to see if all was safe between them. He shook his head at length, glancing longingly at the expense of white thigh and shapely calf that disappeared as quickly as it had been revealed. She smiled indifferently, though inwardly she burned with shame. What had she been thinking, kicking up her skirt like that? Proper women just didn't do it, especially to old professors.

Oh, fuck proper women, she snapped out loud, and looked almost startled enough to fall off the chair. Snape looked equally surprised, Language, Granger. She gave him a glare capable of impaling a wand through dragon hide, Oh, shuttup Snape. I'm not in a bloody classroom anymore. I've become aware that in less than twenty minutes, I have to go out in front of friends, professors, and family, and make the announcement that I've decided to remain celibate after all. Perhaps I should just get married and save everyone the trouble.

This illicited such an angry sound from him, that it sounded feral. A cold chill ran through her, dragging across her spine; he was as unpredictable as ever, and even more dangerous. His eyes grew smokey, and he became jaded again.

Don't ever do that. Why waste what you know you have?, he asked, sounding irately self assured, You're already living a falsity, I can't understand why you would deem it worthy to continue, besides, none of them deserve you.

, she asked, despite herself. She immediately flushed when she realized he wasn't finished. He was beginning to sound dreamy, almost.

Those cretins you call friends, he replied angrily. She gave him an appreciative look, So you've noticed?. And not just now. In school, you were always there for them, and they never returned the favour. I can't blame you for pursuing a happy, normal life, Granger, but believe you me, with your talent comes immense complications, he droned, sounding as if he were teaching another inanely simple first year potion.

All right, Professor Snape, Hermione interrupted his reverie, frantic for time, as well as an honest reply, I've woven my tale, now you have to tell me the truth. Why do you care so much? Wouldn't it have been so much more amusing had my mockery at marriage failed so miserably? It would have been quite the victory for you, knowing all along it couldn't have possibly worked out.

He gave her an exasperated stare chilly enough to freeze her eyelashes. I admit that it would have been quite amusing had your marriage actually been consummated. But, seeing the student and woman you are,the fact would have eaten me alive. That's why I came, to tell you the truth you already knew, as well as to rid myself of my own guilt, he said lamely.

Hermione knew in an instant that what he had said was a blatant lie, and she was furious and shamefully flattered. She put her hands on her hips, her chest and jaw out defiantly. She raised an eyebrow at him, and threw him one of her famous glares. He looked taken aback, but still cold.

I don't believe you, Snape, she said bluntly. He shrugged, As you wish, Granger. She laughed, loudly, falsely, and with such bitterness, it startled them both. There's a simple trick to prove me wrong, she said enticingly, knowing that he would fall for it. He cocked his head, studying her with much fascination; you had to give Hermione Granger credit for being so obdurate.

Fine, fine. I'll play your silly game. What is this trick? Pulling a rabbit out of a hat?, he glowered, lowering himself back into his chair.

Kiss me, she said simply, her arms crossed in front of her chest again. He almost choked, Come again, Granger?.

She shrugged, If this was entirely self motivated, then why shouldn't you kiss me? After all, it would only sweeten the deal.

His eyes narrowed. You chit, he said menacingly, advancing upon her, this is no game, there is no deal. I've come to do you a favor, at Dumbledore's great bidding, mind you.

She was acutely aware of how close his proximity was, of how he seemed to effuse thyme, rosemary and lavender when he was angry, and how when their gazes met, it smelled almost electrical. She was breathless, and he was breathing heavily enough for both of them. It took one tiny, infinitesimally small upturn of her chin at him, her eyes glowing and his own glittering in a foreign emotion, for the two to come together.

It was, by any standard, a kiss to end all kisses.






A/N: Heehee. Fluffy and stupid, but oh so satisfying. Anyway, story's not over yet folks, so keep the reviews rollin!