The first date
Hermione hadn't been surprised when no Owl arrived from Severus during her first week at home, but neither was she worried. He was no doubt calculating to the nearest minute the precise moment when anticipation would turn to worry, and would arrange for the Owl to arrive at some point in the next twelve hours. Of course, the timing would also tell her exactly how certain he was of her feelings, and how certain he thought she was of him.
She was now engaged in a cat and mouse game with the Head of Slytherin, and she was in two minds as to whether she should let him think he was winning, or point out that she had seen through his little games. The first would probably be the quicker route to bed, but only the second would win his heart. Though he would sneer at the idea that he had a heart at all, let alone one that could be won by a Gryffindor.
The Owl arrived on the Tuesday in the second week of her holidays, which was a little sooner than she expected. He had invited her for lunch on the Wednesday, and for a few minutes she was strongly tempted to send a reply saying she was busy. Twenty-four hours notice was taking a little too much for granted. However, that was a point that was better made in person.
So she had accepted, with a very pointed comment to the effect that it was fortunate he had suggested Wednesday as it was the only day she was free this week. Which she thought should translate into Slytherin as, 'I'm still interested, but don't push your luck.'
He had arranged lunch at an expensive restaurant obviously intending to spend all of the Malfoy winnings at one sitting. However, he was waiting to greet her, which was probably Slytherin for, "Who me, take advantage? You must be thinking of someone else."
It amused her, his obviously assumed air of innocence so unsuited to him. So she smiled at him a little too fondly than was perhaps wise, but was rewarded with a faint smile in return. "I'm glad you could make it, Hermione," he said. "I'm sorry it was at such short notice, but I'm afraid Dumbledore has kept me very busy."
"That's all right, Severus. I didn't have anything on this week."
The waiter was placing a napkin across her lap and handing them the menu, when he asked casually, "I thought you said you were busy all this week, apart from today."
"I lied, Severus. I lied."
The waiter took their orders, after a suitably respectful interval, to leave them sitting opposite each other slightly at a loss for conversation. He seemed to have something on his mind though, and he was looking at her with the kind of intense consideration he only levelled at her when he thought that she and the boys had been up to something.
"I know that you are only a Gryfindor, Hermione, and therefore don't appreciate the finer points about lying, but you aren't supposed to admit that you've been dishonest unless you have been caught out and there are at least three witnesses to prove it."
"That depends on why you're lying."
"I don't understand."
"I know."
He thought about that for a moment; she wasn't sure whether he filed it away for future consideration or took the point straight away - he couldn't be allowed to think that she was going to be in any way simple or predictable. The most amusing aspect of it all was that telling the truth seemed to be the best way of confusing him; he was clearly unused to it and had yet to work out a strategy to deal with it.
It was only a matter of time until he did, but until then he was mildly off- balance, and, what was more important, definitely thinking about her. She wasn't going to fit into any convenient boxes so that he could put her away when he had finished playing with her, and if he asked her what she was up to, she could tell him and she would still be able to confuse him.
So she smiled widely and raised her glass of champagne in a toast. "To Draco!"
"To Draco!" he echoed.
There was a small pause whilst the waiter brought them the first course. Hermione had chosen potage bonne femme or potato soup as her mother would have called it. Not that potato soup would have done justice to the creamy, delicately flavoured starter. Severus had chosen fish of some sort, covered in a hollandaise sauce.
The first few mouthfuls, eaten in silence, gave them both time to think of something to say. Hermione, of course, was the first to speak. "So, Severus, what will you do with your time, now that you don't have classes to teach?"
"I don't get much of a holiday," he said, "contrary to popular misconception. What with stocking up the ingredients for next year, doing an inventory to see whether anything has gone missing." here he gave her a very pointed look ". and running Albus's errands for him, there's barely a moment to myself."
"What do the other teacher's do?"
"Minerva goes off to see her sister, I think. I suppose most of the other teachers do the same. Usually it's just me left to nursemaid Albus."
"But you don't have to," she said.
"No," he said slowly. "I suppose I don't anymore. Before, I was expected by Voldemort to stay at Hogwarts to keep an eye on Albus, and I suppose I just keep on doing it out of habit."
"But you could take a day off, if you wanted?"
"Why, what did you have in mind?"
Typical Slytherin; he wanted to know what he might be letting himself in for before he agreed to anything.
"My parents have a seaside cottage, up on the Norfolk Coast. We could go there for the day, perhaps have lunch, a walk along the beach; no coffee, though."
"I hardly see myself as the sort of person to hold hands in public or go paddling, Hermione," he said softly. "What do you mean, no coffee?"
Hermion blushed faintly. "Believe me, Severus, if you tried paddling in the North Sea you would lose your toes, even in this weather. But there are some nice views from the cottage, and it's quiet." He was still looking at her, clearly determined to find out what she meant by coffee. "If a muggle asks someone back for coffee, it generally means an invitation to something else."
Oddly enough, Severus's cheeks looked a little flushed as well.
She added, "I just thought that next time, assuming there is a next time, it might be nice if lunch was conducted away from prying eyes."
"You mean Harry and Ron, who are watching us from the café across the street?"
Hermione nodded. She was impressed, although she supposed that spying tended to make you more observant and slightly suspicious of everyone. Particularly people wearing purple robes that were too large for them, crowned with a large green hat; and that was just Harry. It wasn't the best attempt at a disguise she had ever seen, which made her wonder whether the boys intended to be noticed. And they said girls were difficult to understand!
"I can see your point."
There was a sudden bustle as their first courses were removed and replaced by the main course. Hermione was mildly annoyed with herself for having mentioned coffee. She just hadn't wanted to end up in a situation where she would be badly out of her depth. She wouldn't have minded dipping her toe in the water though, and she couldn't see Severus being the sort of person to snog in public; the cottage had seemed the ideal solution. She sighed, oh well.
Severus looked, uncertain was the only way Hermione could think of to describe it, never mind how unlikely that was. Probably wondering how to turn her down gently.
"I've never been to the seaside," he said. "It might be interesting."
"It's nothing special," she said, "but you could risk me cooking lunch, and then you can sit on the patio and admire the view or, if you are feeling particularly energetic, we could go for a stroll along the cliffs. As I say the views are breathtaking, and it's very peaceful."
"Peaceful might be nice," he said wistfully.
"If you like, you could stay there," she offered. "You know, as a sort of holiday. I could stay there with you, if you liked, at least some of the time. But if you really wanted peace and quiet on your own away from Hogwarts, you could stay there on your own and I could drop in and see you from time to time. If you're not actually at Hogwarts, Dumbledore can't find you things to do. There are plenty of book to keep you amused, if you like muggles."
"And your parents won't mind?" He sounded tempted by the offer.
"I shouldn't think so; we often loan the cottage to friends."
He pushed his steak around the plate absent-mindedly. "And what will you tell them about me?"
"The truth."
He looked up in surprise. "Really? That I used to be your teacher and that you. we."
"That you used to be my teacher, that nothing untoward happened whilst you were my teacher, and that I'd like to get to know you better."
"Won't they suspect rampant . er . coffee drinking?" That was definitely a blush.
"They may; I certainly won't pretend that coffee drinking isn't the long term aim. There's no point trying to pretend otherwise."
"And they won't mind?"
"Not really, no." Her mother would no doubt lecture on the necessity of using contraception, and suggest that she ought to take things slowly until she was certain about her own feelings, but, fundamentally, she trusted her daughter to make the right decisions. She would also be there to pick up the pieces if it all went disastrously wrong, and probably hunt Severus down and slap his face for being an unfeeling brute if she thought it necessary.
Hermione definitely had her mother's temperament; something she thought should be kept from Severus for as long as possible. She had the feeling that he would run for the hills if he realised that there were two of them in the same family, and that as Hermione got older she would only get more determined.
Ron's admiration had certainly faded once he had met her mother. "Blimey," he had said, "she's even bossier than Mum." If she had known that is what it took to deter him, she would have introduced them earlier. However, she wasn't prepared to take a chance with Severus. Lull him into a false sense of security, that was the way; then, when he was hooked, the introduction to parents could be made.
"Why do I get the feeling you aren't telling me everything?" he asked wryly.
"Because I'm not?" she offered.
"That might be it." He paid careful attention to his meal for a few minutes, and then ventured, "How long is long term?"
Hermione was at a loss to understand the question for a few seconds until her brain suddenly kicked into life. Long term aim - coffee drinking. Oh.
"I don't know," she said in exasperation. "Contrary to popular opinion, I don't plan everything. I haven't got a timetable worked out: there isn't an entry in my diary going 14th to the 2st1 August - shag Severus senseless, four times a night."
"Pity." The look in his eyes made breathing a little difficult, and she suddenly felt very warm.
Mercifully, the waiters took the pause in the conversation as a signal to clear the table, and the next few minutes were spent ordering desert.
"I only ask," he said, "because I'm not very experienced at this courting business. I don't know what you expect to happen."
"I'm not very experienced at being courted, and I have absolutely no idea what will happen next. We just make it up as we go along."
Desert was insinuated before them. Hermione quickly finished her pear tart; there wasn't a lot of it, more like pear sliver. Severus caught Hermione eyeing his chocolate soufflé with longing, and offered her some. She looked at him quizzically as she reached forward to allow him to slide the spoon between her lips. "Just how it should be," he smirked. "I already have you eating out of my hand."
She ran her tongue round her lips, careful not to allow any soufflé to escape. Severus was watching in fascination. "You were saying?" she said, softly.
When he smiled, she felt an odd sort of triumph. She had made him smile, which was an achievement in itself. She seemed to be managing this flirting business reasonably well, and he seemed to be at least as uncertain as her as to what on earth they should be doing; it was rather a relief not to be confronted with a smooth Slytherin Sex God who was in control of everything.
Her mind turned to coffee drinking, and what he would be like in bed: tentative and uncertain, or . she was busy considering the possibilities so when Severus asked if he could tempt her to a coffee, her mind was definitely reposing in the gutter when she replied breathily, "Yes please."
From the smile on his face, she didn't think he was convinced by her attempt to cover up where her mind had been by blurting out, "Espresso, please."
He didn't seem to mind very much though, so she just shrugged and smiled back.
Coffee and lunch were over too quickly for her taste; she had only just begun to get a glimpse of what Severus, as opposed to Professor Snape, was like. He offered her an arm as he escorted her from the restaurant to the apparition point. There was something to be said for old-fashioned courtesy.
She was vaguely aware of their escort trailing them, but was too busy concentrating on the feel of the muscle in his arms, and the soft wool of his jacket, to give a damn. She was in a little blissful world of her own, and she wasn't going to let the boys spoil it for her.
Severus turned to her to say his farewells. He cast an eye behind them, and said softly, "I think they deserve something for their efforts, don't you?" With that, Severus-I-would-never-hold-hands-in-public-Snape, kissed her. He was tall; it was awkward, and her neck ached. It was also bloody fabulous.
She couldn't think of anything to say when he raised his head. He took one look at her wide-eyed expression and chuckled. "Perhaps the cottage isn't such a bad idea, after all." She just nodded fervently, and then he apparated away. She stood there, slightly dazed, with her hand pressed to her lips for a few moments until reality came crashing back in.
She turned sharply, fixed Ron and Harry with a glare, and stalked towards them. "I want a word with you two," she said firmly, and, grasping them by the ears she pulled them after her.
"I told you she wouldn't like it," Harry said to Ron.
"Oh, I did. I liked it very much."
Hermione hadn't been surprised when no Owl arrived from Severus during her first week at home, but neither was she worried. He was no doubt calculating to the nearest minute the precise moment when anticipation would turn to worry, and would arrange for the Owl to arrive at some point in the next twelve hours. Of course, the timing would also tell her exactly how certain he was of her feelings, and how certain he thought she was of him.
She was now engaged in a cat and mouse game with the Head of Slytherin, and she was in two minds as to whether she should let him think he was winning, or point out that she had seen through his little games. The first would probably be the quicker route to bed, but only the second would win his heart. Though he would sneer at the idea that he had a heart at all, let alone one that could be won by a Gryffindor.
The Owl arrived on the Tuesday in the second week of her holidays, which was a little sooner than she expected. He had invited her for lunch on the Wednesday, and for a few minutes she was strongly tempted to send a reply saying she was busy. Twenty-four hours notice was taking a little too much for granted. However, that was a point that was better made in person.
So she had accepted, with a very pointed comment to the effect that it was fortunate he had suggested Wednesday as it was the only day she was free this week. Which she thought should translate into Slytherin as, 'I'm still interested, but don't push your luck.'
He had arranged lunch at an expensive restaurant obviously intending to spend all of the Malfoy winnings at one sitting. However, he was waiting to greet her, which was probably Slytherin for, "Who me, take advantage? You must be thinking of someone else."
It amused her, his obviously assumed air of innocence so unsuited to him. So she smiled at him a little too fondly than was perhaps wise, but was rewarded with a faint smile in return. "I'm glad you could make it, Hermione," he said. "I'm sorry it was at such short notice, but I'm afraid Dumbledore has kept me very busy."
"That's all right, Severus. I didn't have anything on this week."
The waiter was placing a napkin across her lap and handing them the menu, when he asked casually, "I thought you said you were busy all this week, apart from today."
"I lied, Severus. I lied."
The waiter took their orders, after a suitably respectful interval, to leave them sitting opposite each other slightly at a loss for conversation. He seemed to have something on his mind though, and he was looking at her with the kind of intense consideration he only levelled at her when he thought that she and the boys had been up to something.
"I know that you are only a Gryfindor, Hermione, and therefore don't appreciate the finer points about lying, but you aren't supposed to admit that you've been dishonest unless you have been caught out and there are at least three witnesses to prove it."
"That depends on why you're lying."
"I don't understand."
"I know."
He thought about that for a moment; she wasn't sure whether he filed it away for future consideration or took the point straight away - he couldn't be allowed to think that she was going to be in any way simple or predictable. The most amusing aspect of it all was that telling the truth seemed to be the best way of confusing him; he was clearly unused to it and had yet to work out a strategy to deal with it.
It was only a matter of time until he did, but until then he was mildly off- balance, and, what was more important, definitely thinking about her. She wasn't going to fit into any convenient boxes so that he could put her away when he had finished playing with her, and if he asked her what she was up to, she could tell him and she would still be able to confuse him.
So she smiled widely and raised her glass of champagne in a toast. "To Draco!"
"To Draco!" he echoed.
There was a small pause whilst the waiter brought them the first course. Hermione had chosen potage bonne femme or potato soup as her mother would have called it. Not that potato soup would have done justice to the creamy, delicately flavoured starter. Severus had chosen fish of some sort, covered in a hollandaise sauce.
The first few mouthfuls, eaten in silence, gave them both time to think of something to say. Hermione, of course, was the first to speak. "So, Severus, what will you do with your time, now that you don't have classes to teach?"
"I don't get much of a holiday," he said, "contrary to popular misconception. What with stocking up the ingredients for next year, doing an inventory to see whether anything has gone missing." here he gave her a very pointed look ". and running Albus's errands for him, there's barely a moment to myself."
"What do the other teacher's do?"
"Minerva goes off to see her sister, I think. I suppose most of the other teachers do the same. Usually it's just me left to nursemaid Albus."
"But you don't have to," she said.
"No," he said slowly. "I suppose I don't anymore. Before, I was expected by Voldemort to stay at Hogwarts to keep an eye on Albus, and I suppose I just keep on doing it out of habit."
"But you could take a day off, if you wanted?"
"Why, what did you have in mind?"
Typical Slytherin; he wanted to know what he might be letting himself in for before he agreed to anything.
"My parents have a seaside cottage, up on the Norfolk Coast. We could go there for the day, perhaps have lunch, a walk along the beach; no coffee, though."
"I hardly see myself as the sort of person to hold hands in public or go paddling, Hermione," he said softly. "What do you mean, no coffee?"
Hermion blushed faintly. "Believe me, Severus, if you tried paddling in the North Sea you would lose your toes, even in this weather. But there are some nice views from the cottage, and it's quiet." He was still looking at her, clearly determined to find out what she meant by coffee. "If a muggle asks someone back for coffee, it generally means an invitation to something else."
Oddly enough, Severus's cheeks looked a little flushed as well.
She added, "I just thought that next time, assuming there is a next time, it might be nice if lunch was conducted away from prying eyes."
"You mean Harry and Ron, who are watching us from the café across the street?"
Hermione nodded. She was impressed, although she supposed that spying tended to make you more observant and slightly suspicious of everyone. Particularly people wearing purple robes that were too large for them, crowned with a large green hat; and that was just Harry. It wasn't the best attempt at a disguise she had ever seen, which made her wonder whether the boys intended to be noticed. And they said girls were difficult to understand!
"I can see your point."
There was a sudden bustle as their first courses were removed and replaced by the main course. Hermione was mildly annoyed with herself for having mentioned coffee. She just hadn't wanted to end up in a situation where she would be badly out of her depth. She wouldn't have minded dipping her toe in the water though, and she couldn't see Severus being the sort of person to snog in public; the cottage had seemed the ideal solution. She sighed, oh well.
Severus looked, uncertain was the only way Hermione could think of to describe it, never mind how unlikely that was. Probably wondering how to turn her down gently.
"I've never been to the seaside," he said. "It might be interesting."
"It's nothing special," she said, "but you could risk me cooking lunch, and then you can sit on the patio and admire the view or, if you are feeling particularly energetic, we could go for a stroll along the cliffs. As I say the views are breathtaking, and it's very peaceful."
"Peaceful might be nice," he said wistfully.
"If you like, you could stay there," she offered. "You know, as a sort of holiday. I could stay there with you, if you liked, at least some of the time. But if you really wanted peace and quiet on your own away from Hogwarts, you could stay there on your own and I could drop in and see you from time to time. If you're not actually at Hogwarts, Dumbledore can't find you things to do. There are plenty of book to keep you amused, if you like muggles."
"And your parents won't mind?" He sounded tempted by the offer.
"I shouldn't think so; we often loan the cottage to friends."
He pushed his steak around the plate absent-mindedly. "And what will you tell them about me?"
"The truth."
He looked up in surprise. "Really? That I used to be your teacher and that you. we."
"That you used to be my teacher, that nothing untoward happened whilst you were my teacher, and that I'd like to get to know you better."
"Won't they suspect rampant . er . coffee drinking?" That was definitely a blush.
"They may; I certainly won't pretend that coffee drinking isn't the long term aim. There's no point trying to pretend otherwise."
"And they won't mind?"
"Not really, no." Her mother would no doubt lecture on the necessity of using contraception, and suggest that she ought to take things slowly until she was certain about her own feelings, but, fundamentally, she trusted her daughter to make the right decisions. She would also be there to pick up the pieces if it all went disastrously wrong, and probably hunt Severus down and slap his face for being an unfeeling brute if she thought it necessary.
Hermione definitely had her mother's temperament; something she thought should be kept from Severus for as long as possible. She had the feeling that he would run for the hills if he realised that there were two of them in the same family, and that as Hermione got older she would only get more determined.
Ron's admiration had certainly faded once he had met her mother. "Blimey," he had said, "she's even bossier than Mum." If she had known that is what it took to deter him, she would have introduced them earlier. However, she wasn't prepared to take a chance with Severus. Lull him into a false sense of security, that was the way; then, when he was hooked, the introduction to parents could be made.
"Why do I get the feeling you aren't telling me everything?" he asked wryly.
"Because I'm not?" she offered.
"That might be it." He paid careful attention to his meal for a few minutes, and then ventured, "How long is long term?"
Hermione was at a loss to understand the question for a few seconds until her brain suddenly kicked into life. Long term aim - coffee drinking. Oh.
"I don't know," she said in exasperation. "Contrary to popular opinion, I don't plan everything. I haven't got a timetable worked out: there isn't an entry in my diary going 14th to the 2st1 August - shag Severus senseless, four times a night."
"Pity." The look in his eyes made breathing a little difficult, and she suddenly felt very warm.
Mercifully, the waiters took the pause in the conversation as a signal to clear the table, and the next few minutes were spent ordering desert.
"I only ask," he said, "because I'm not very experienced at this courting business. I don't know what you expect to happen."
"I'm not very experienced at being courted, and I have absolutely no idea what will happen next. We just make it up as we go along."
Desert was insinuated before them. Hermione quickly finished her pear tart; there wasn't a lot of it, more like pear sliver. Severus caught Hermione eyeing his chocolate soufflé with longing, and offered her some. She looked at him quizzically as she reached forward to allow him to slide the spoon between her lips. "Just how it should be," he smirked. "I already have you eating out of my hand."
She ran her tongue round her lips, careful not to allow any soufflé to escape. Severus was watching in fascination. "You were saying?" she said, softly.
When he smiled, she felt an odd sort of triumph. She had made him smile, which was an achievement in itself. She seemed to be managing this flirting business reasonably well, and he seemed to be at least as uncertain as her as to what on earth they should be doing; it was rather a relief not to be confronted with a smooth Slytherin Sex God who was in control of everything.
Her mind turned to coffee drinking, and what he would be like in bed: tentative and uncertain, or . she was busy considering the possibilities so when Severus asked if he could tempt her to a coffee, her mind was definitely reposing in the gutter when she replied breathily, "Yes please."
From the smile on his face, she didn't think he was convinced by her attempt to cover up where her mind had been by blurting out, "Espresso, please."
He didn't seem to mind very much though, so she just shrugged and smiled back.
Coffee and lunch were over too quickly for her taste; she had only just begun to get a glimpse of what Severus, as opposed to Professor Snape, was like. He offered her an arm as he escorted her from the restaurant to the apparition point. There was something to be said for old-fashioned courtesy.
She was vaguely aware of their escort trailing them, but was too busy concentrating on the feel of the muscle in his arms, and the soft wool of his jacket, to give a damn. She was in a little blissful world of her own, and she wasn't going to let the boys spoil it for her.
Severus turned to her to say his farewells. He cast an eye behind them, and said softly, "I think they deserve something for their efforts, don't you?" With that, Severus-I-would-never-hold-hands-in-public-Snape, kissed her. He was tall; it was awkward, and her neck ached. It was also bloody fabulous.
She couldn't think of anything to say when he raised his head. He took one look at her wide-eyed expression and chuckled. "Perhaps the cottage isn't such a bad idea, after all." She just nodded fervently, and then he apparated away. She stood there, slightly dazed, with her hand pressed to her lips for a few moments until reality came crashing back in.
She turned sharply, fixed Ron and Harry with a glare, and stalked towards them. "I want a word with you two," she said firmly, and, grasping them by the ears she pulled them after her.
"I told you she wouldn't like it," Harry said to Ron.
"Oh, I did. I liked it very much."