By the way, I do not own one single solitary character or setting portrayed in this fic. I have no claim upon any part of the wonderful works of fiction created and owned solely by J.K. Rowling.

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In the moments before he lowered his mouth to hers, Severus felt powerless to obey the recriminations floating uselessly throughout what remained of his conscience. The innate paradox of innocence and sexuality that were Hermione far exceeded his usually formidable ability to control his emotions. He stared hypnotically at the rapid beating of her pulse at the base of her throat. Her hair, spread out like a fan around her, displayed the graceful contours of her neck and invited him to explore further.

Very few women had ever experienced Severus Snape in a soft, yet sexually persuasive moment. Hermione in her inexperience, therefore, was powerless to control her response to him as he gently massaged her neck with his mouth and tongue. When he began a passionate journey of kisses upward to her mouth, she became lost in a sea of sensations. Her one fleeting thought, before she gave in to her inability to think coherently, was that she would never desire a boy her own age again.

Although the entire exchange lasted less than a minute, for the man and woman involved, it felt timeless. Thus, by the time Severus moved his mouth to hers, for both of them the anticipation of the kiss was exceeded by what would follow it. Hermione closed her eyes and waited. It seemed as if she had been waiting for this moment forever.

Unfortunately, just as his mouth made the merest sliver of contact with hers, chimes began to sound in the background. The sound was so illusive at first, that Hermione had incorporated the beauty of it into her luxurious private reality. Severus, on the other hand, having no experience with chimes panicked. With the sudden movement and grace of a panther, he was standing over her looking as if the hounds of hell were after him.

"Severus, what?" asked Hermione in bewilderment. She raised herself up to a sitting position and held out her hand to him imploringly. "Don't. Don't stop now. Kiss me Severus, please," she asked passionately.

Severus gave her one longing look, but could no longer ignore the increasing persistence of the chiming sound that seemed to be coming from several directions. "Hermione, this is crazy! What is that noise? Take out your wand immediately!"

His tone of voice, elevated wand, and combative posture finally burst Hermione's bubble. The sound finally penetrated her brain. Rising to her feet she said, "It's the doorbell. Just ignore it."

"Excuse me, it's the door what?"

"It's a doorbell Severus! It's what muggles do when they want to visit. There's no apparating, no floo network. When people want to communicate, they either ring you by telephone or come over and ring the bell at your home. Damn! How annoying! Clearly, we are NOT at home. Why don't they just go away?"

While he didn't understand a word of her explanation, Severus proceeded to the door as the previously postponed wave of guilt penetrated his mind at last. "What the hell was I thinking," he said, as the need to extricate himself from the situation propelled him to the door. Upon reaching it, he quickly hid his wand behind his back and concentrated on operating the round piece of beveled glass protruding from the door. After successfully opening the door, he found standing before him a woman he had never seen before. Yet, there was something vaguely familiar about her.

"Well, good morning my handsome new neighbor. I bet you didn't recognize me. I hope I didn't wake you. Poupee sensed the movement inside so I decided to ring until you answered."

It was the neighbor. For some bizarre reason, she had disguised herself using a black wig and a lot of heavy black eyeliner. She looked like a hieroglyph come to life. Her sudden arrival and rapid dialogue left Severus a bit stunned as she swiftly moved around him and entered the apartment uninvited. Her ridiculous dog trailed behind her on a bejeweled leash.

Ignoring her rudeness was preferable to facing Hermione at the moment, so Severus restrained his usual temper and swallowed the caustic comments that were ready to erupt at any moment. He forced himself to assume some semblance of a pleasant countenance and said, "Yes. You do look quite different. Is it your hair?"

"Aren't you the clever one," Roxana said coyly before launching into a lengthy self-involved explanation. She presented her back to Hermione, who had quietly entered the foyer, and whose presence she had ignored completely. Severus faced Roxana, giving her the impression that she had his full attention. In reality he was watching Hermione over her shoulder.

If it had been possible, his skin would have lost what little color it had by the icy expression on the Hermione's face. She was the personification of "woman offended." Severus began to feel panicked because he did not know how to ameliorate the situation. On the one hand, he was relieved by the timely interruption of their importunate visitor. However, on the other hand, he knew his priority should be resolving the situation with Hermione. Unfortunately, his intellect seemed to have deserted him. He didn't know what to do.

Nothing in his previous experience, either personally or professionally, had prepared him for handling a romantic tangle with a woman as young as Hermione. "Women!" he thought sarcastically to himself. "And to think, less than twenty-four hours ago she was nothing more than an irritating teenager to me." Within seconds of thinking this, Severus remembered his answer to his Hermione problem. Of course it involved spending time with the hateful woman standing before him, jaws jabbering faster than a quidditch player on a new broom.

"Her mouth has not stopped moving once since her arrival," he thought in wonderment. "She's like a baby. She's all id."

If he had to spend an abundance of time with either woman, his preference was definitely Hermione, no matter how attractive the other woman was. Student or not, Hermione Granger was one of the most intelligent woman he knew. This Roxana was ridiculous. "And she's all muggle," he thought with distaste. He would rather spend time chatting with Peeves, but as he nervously met Hermione's level stare he decided that perhaps the neighbor was the better choice after all.

".....And that's why I think the black wig fools fans while the red one doesn't," concluded Roxana. She didn't even realize that neither Severus nor Hermione had taken in a tenth of what she'd said.

"My dear," began Severus silkily, flirtatiously, "It doesn't matter what color your hair is. You have other, er, attributes which cannot be disguised. While a man may not realize you're the famous actress, it would be impossible for him to ignore the fact that you outshine any woman who has the misfortune to be standing near you."

As he spoke to Roxana, Severus was sure to maintain direct eye contact with her. He didn't want to waste any time in seducing this woman. The sooner she succumbed to him, the sooner Hermione would retreat back into the parameters of their previous relationship.

He met and held Roxana's spellbound gaze. Severus knew full well that his female students considered him unattractive at best. However, somewhere around their mid-twenties, many of those who were still single pursued him ardently if given the opportunity. "I don't know what was wrong with my vision at Hogwarts," they would say. "Oh Severus, had I known then what I know now..."

"Women are such fickle creatures," he mused to himself. But when his eyes once again met Hermione's, he knew that somehow she had proven him wrong yet again. Her expressive eyes were communicating her feelings clearly, and there was nothing remotely fickle about what they were saying. So, while Roxana, chattered on self-centeredly about nothing of value, Hermione and Severus shared a gaze of mutual understanding.

Her eyes spoke of the hurt and humiliation she felt at his flirtation with another woman within minutes of sharing such a passionate embrace with her. Yet, there was something else in her eyes. "She's disappointed in me," he realized in bewildered surprise. The realization made him angry and caused him to become the victim of his primary character defect. His tendency toward arrogance quickly took over.

This chit is disappointed in me? I'm the adult here! I'm her teacher for pity's sake! If either of us has the right to feel disappointed in bad behavior it's me. She's been practically throwing herself at me since we left Hogwarts," he thought hypocritically.

"She's just like all those other little girls. There must be something wrong with the muggle water. It's made a mess of rational thinking. Woman indeed! She's no different than all the other hot-blooded adolescents, with their hormones running rampant through Hogwarts from the day they are sorted."

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. His feelings of guilt had disintegrated so rapidly he didn't have a chance to gain control over his malevolent temper. Had he been able to allow a rational thought to penetrate his tantrum, he would have realized how utterly unfair he was being to her. He also would have stopped himself from taking it all one step further.

Turning to Roxana with a sensuous smile he said, "So, what are we up to today, beautiful lady. I need to go shopping, and I was hoping that you would come to my rescue. Just before you rang the chime, I was thinking to myself that there is no one else whose taste I can truly rely on here in New York. While my colleague, the very young Ms. Susan looks well enough; she's a tad too young to satisfy a man's needs. Needless to say, I'm sure we are both relieved that you arrived on our doorstep this morning."

Severus's words, while non-specific, implied that perhaps his "colleague" had feelings for him that were immature and unrequited. His tone was biting, and Roxana unsuccessfully smothered a laugh at "Susan's" expense. Additionally, his fulsome compliments caused her to blush and simper stupidly.

"Isn't he fabulous!" she said to Hermione as she rolled her eyes in pleasure. "Oh my God! I just LOVE his accent," she said in an American schoolgirlish voice. "I can completely understand that you would have small crush my dear," she said condescendingly to Hermione.

Hermione, to her credit, did not respond. The only sign of her distress was the sudden unhealthy pallor of her skin. She simply turned around and proceeded to her bedroom closing the door softly behind her. "Was it something I said darling, or is she always that rude?" asked Roxana. Severus shrugged his shoulders in reply. He couldn't answer her directly. He was just beginning to realize that his resolution of his Hermione problem didn't leave him feeling as triumphant as he thought he would feel. Instead, he felt like an utter cad. "Bloody Hell!" he cursed to himself silently.