Alex descended the stairs to the entrance hall feeling pleased with herself. Lookin' good and only five minutes late. Couldn't have pulled it off without magic. She had chosen a blood-red gown, daringly low-cut. Since Snape hasn't seemed to care what I wear so far. She smirked. This ought to catch his eye. To her surprise, the potions master was nowhere in sight. She had expected to see him pacing across the tiled floor.

Alex sat down on a bench and waited. Fifteen minutes passed. He's probably having difficulty mastering the arcane mysteries of shampoo. I'll give him another five minutes. As the hand of the great clock neared the half hour mark, she paced the tiles in unconscious imitation of Snape. A few students, wandering in late for dinner, gave her curious looks. This is ridiculous. The man's always early. A thought occurred to her. Damn him, if he's bailed on me -

-----

She strode into the potions lab, slightly out of breath. It occurred to her suddenly that she had no idea where Snape's personal quarters were. Sheesh, I guess I always imagined that he just lived here, sleeping on a lab table or something. How stupid of me. "Snape," Alex yelled experimentally. Oh, yeah, this is intelligent. He probably has his apartment in one of the towers. She was about to leave the laboratory when he appeared from the direction of the storage closet. Heh. Maybe he really does live down here.

"Miss Rose. Do you want something ?" he inquired stiffly.

"Hell, yes. An explanation. Why'd you stand me up ?" Snape blinked. She noticed that he had changed into a clean robe. And washed his hair. The shoulders of his robe were stained where the inky black locks brushed against it; the ends of his hair were still damp. Thick and coarse, it had a natural wave. Dang, not bad.

"You weren't in the hall. I assumed you had changed your mind," he said coldly.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud. I was five minutes late. Five minutes ! And if I'd changed my mind for some reason, I would have let you know. Sheesh, I'm not that cruel."

"Oh." They stood awkwardly for a moment.

"Well, come on. I'm starved," Alex said brightly.

Snape led her to the Hogwarts gates and rummaged in some shrubbery. He picked up an old copper teakettle, obviously a portkey, then grabbed her hand in his with his usual lack of charm. We have got to work on your people skills, Alex thought. She was surprised when the portkey took them, not to Diagon Alley as she had expected, but to the outskirts of a small village. A neat oval sign beside the road identified the place. Chelmsford. "Oh, wow, some of my ancestors came from here," she murmured.

"Yes, I heard you telling Lucius Malfoy." He looked extremely pleased with himself. "I thought you might enjoy seeing it."

Alex gaped at him. Severus Snape, master of the grand romantic gesture ? It didn't seem possible. Then again, the name of the village was exactly the kind of odd fact that he would pick up on and remember. "When did you have time to set up a portkey ?" she asked suspiciously.

"I didn't have to. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor is from Chelmsford. It's his portkey." He smirked. "Who knows ? You two might possibly be related."

"Who knows," she repeated. She smiled up at Snape. "Let's go see the sights." She grinned. "Maybe one of my great-great-greats is haunting the place."

They crossed an arched stone bridge and entered the village. Alex took Snape's hand in hers as they crossed the river. He didn't protest. One of the first buildings they reached was a grammar school, obviously very old even by British wizarding standards, and still in use. Alex laughed with delight at the miniature quidditch goal posts, no more than thirty feet high, visible behind the school. "They start 'em young here, don't they ? Crazy sport."

"I don't know what you mean," Snape said disapprovingly. He indicated a large brass plaque on the gate post. "Chartered during the reign of King Edward the Sixth."

Alex leaned close to him, tracing a rose engraved on the plaque with her fingers. "Gods, look at that. My ancestors went to school here, probably." They strolled on down the street in the deepening twilight. To their left was a church. "St. Mary's. That's funny, I didn't think there were very many wizarding folk who were Church of England."

"I believe it's a museum now. Commemorating the witch trials." The place looked run-down, disused. The wrought iron gate creaked as Snape pushed it open enough for them to slip through. The church had been stripped of its original fittings; it was indeed a museum. There was no docent on duty. "Lumos." In the dim light from the potions master's wand, glass display cases were revealed along the walls. Alex shuddered when she saw that several of them were filled with implements of torture.

"Eew," she remarked. "I feel kinda sorry for the Dark witches. Even if they were evil."

"The witch finders used torture to extract confessions of guilt from alleged witches. But in truth, very few Dark witches or wizards were actually caught," Severus Snape told her. Alex hid a smile; he had automatically adopted a lecturing tone. "As often as not it was hapless Muggles who found themselves on the rack." He stooped to examine a display of particularly nasty-looking iron pincers and tongs, flashing her a predatory grin as she shuddered again.

"Ugh. Let's go," Alex suggested, tugging his hand. "This place is morbid. And I think it's giving you ideas," she added teasingly.

"You do scream rather prettily, Miss Rose," he leered. They left the church and wandered among the tumbledown gravestones, still holding hands. Alex ran her fingers over the inscription on a granite obelisk. "No ancestors of yours or mine would be buried in here," Snape commented in his habitual sneering tones.

Alex didn't take offense. "No, not in hallowed ground," she agreed pensively. A carved stone bench stood under a holly tree. Alex sank onto it and pulled Snape down next to her. Past the wrought iron gates, street lamps gave off a warm golden glow. The churchyard was shrouded in darkness. Snape's eyes glinted as she slipped her fingers through his hair, pulling his head down to hers. "You're cold," she murmured. Impulsively, she kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for bringing me here, Severus." He turned his head, capturing her mouth with his. His lips were warm. She melted against him as they explored her own. The kiss was slow, gentle. Alex wanted more. She nipped his lower lip with her teeth, slid her tongue into his mouth. He jerked her closer, slipping his hands under the heavy cloak she was wearing. She didn't object. Her hands stroked his neck. She turned further towards him, sliding one leg over his. Severus reached down and caressed her thigh, kissing her deeply. Roughly, this time. She could feel his heart hammering in time with hers. Alex ran her hands over his back. Dimly, it occurred to her that she was out of control. She didn't care. She wriggled closer to him, rubbing her leg against his hip. His breath came in short gasps as he cupped her breast in one hand. She moaned with pleasure, fumbling a hand down to his crotch, fondling him eagerly.

Snape groaned, slid his hands back to her shoulders. His lips pressed against her hair, an oddly chaste gesture. "Don't start something you don't intend to finish," he said hoarsely. He removed her hands gently.

Alex sighed. But I did intend to finish. Maybe. Her heart was racing. The two drew apart reluctantly. She broke the silence. "Aw. Now I suppose you're going to think all American girls are easy, huh ?" With an effort, she kept her tone light.

"One can only hope," he replied dryly, earning a giggle from Alex. "One more stop on the Chelmsford tour," Snape insisted, "come on, before you get piles from sitting on that cold stone."

The man has no tact, Alex told herself, not for the first time, as Snape pulled her off the bench and led her past the gravestones. "Sheesh, Severus, you might want to tone down the charm a bit," she said sarcastically. They exited the churchyard, the little witch smoothing her gown and hair self-consciously. They continued up the street, turned a corner, and there before them was a little whitewashed stone building with a tiled roof. Bay windows in front were adorned with red curtains. A chalkboard hung by the black-painted door, listing the day's specials. Gilded letters on a black sign-board spelled out 'The Black Horse'. "Aw, it's so cute," Alex cried. Snape rolled his eyes. Three brick steps led up to the door. They entered, getting curious looks from a few patrons at the bar. The place wasn't crowded. A middle-aged witch bustled up to them. She wore an elaborate headdress and a striped gown of a style favored by Muggle women during the reign of Henry the Eighth. Elaborate corsetry forced her ample bosom upwards, nearly to her chin. Her hips were immense, buttressed and amplified by a padded petticoat that made her skirts stand out stiffly. Her cheeks were pink, the hair visible below her headdress arranged in tight curls, an iron shade of grey. Alex couldn't help herself; her eyes kept straying to the woman's impressive cleavage. What I wouldn't give for one-tenth of that. Whoa.

"Jemima Smee, at your service. Madam Smee," she said primly. "And you are-"

It seemed introductions would be required to enter Madam Smee's establishment. "Alex -," the American witch began.

"Rose," Madam Smee finished for her, looking slightly put out at being interrupted. "And Severus Snape. Down from Hogwarts," the innkeeper added smugly. You'll be wanting dinner and a room for the night."

Alex glanced at Snape, annoyed. "Called ahead for reservations, did you ?" A room for the night ? Sheesh. Awfully sure of yourself, aren't you ? she thought.

Snape shook his head and glared at Madam Smee. "Dinner," he snarled. "Just dinner. I did not call ahead. Someone fancies herself a seer," he snapped as Madam Smee led them to a table at the back. In a corner. The plump innkeeper simpered at them before bustling away. Snape helped Alex out of her cloak before pulling out her chair for her. He removed his own cloak and took his seat with his back to the wall, glaring around at the other patrons, sizing each one up in turn.

This is becoming familiar, Alex thought. Wonder who, or what, he thinks he's going to see. "Expecting You-Know-Who to pop in for a beer ?" she asked.

He glared. "Don't. That isn't funny."

Alex looked down at the table top, embarrassed. "Sorry." Thankfully, Madam Smee chose that moment to return, carrying a small notepad and a quill.

Severus ordered for both of them. "Miss Rose will have the shepherd's pie. And for myself, the roast beef."

Madam Smee didn't write the order down. She permitted her tight smile to stretch just a bit wider as she turned the notepad around and showed it to them. Their order was already written on it in tidy script.

The potions master rolled his eyes. "And," he said significantly, "a carafe of red wine." Madam Smee blinked, then nodded curtly.

When the innkeeper returned, she carried a small tray with a carafe and one empty wine glass. A second, larger glass was filled with water. Jemima Smee placed the water glass in front of Alex. "Miss Rose is a teetotaler," she said with a note of triumph as she filled the other glass with wine and set it in front of Snape. He shot Alex a reproachful look.

"She's right," Alex told him apologetically. "At least, when I'm taking Muggle medications. No alcohol allowed."

"Insufferable busybody," Snape remarked, glowering. Madam Smee smiled her prim smile. Alex stifled a giggle as she bustled away again in a flurry of striped skirts. Fortunately their entrees were brought by a young waiter and they were spared more of the innkeeper's predictions.

The table they shared was tiny, intimate, the corner secluded. Candles gleamed. Romantic. Too bad my date is jumping out of his skin, Alex thought to herself as dinner went on. The Black Horse seemed to attract a late crowd. Each time the door swung open to admit new patrons, Snape tensed. His eyes darted about the room suspiciously. "What exactly is this Order of the Phoenix that you're involved in ?" Alex asked him casually.

He glared at her. "Who told you about that ?" he snapped.

She widened her eyes innocently. "Hagrid. Relax, he wouldn't give me any details," Alex assured him. "Well, he did say that some of the Hogwarts staff were involved. And that you're all fighting against ol' You-Know-Who."

"Oh, well, that's all right then." Snape's voice was heavy with sarcasm. "You have no idea how it comforts me, knowing that I can rely on Hagrid's discretion." The two mages sat for a moment in uncomfortable silence. "Your, um, dress," he commented, clearly looking for anything to change the subject. "Very, um, nice. Can't say that I care for that color on you, though."

Alex glanced down at her gown, surprised that he would show any interest in it. Oh, yeah, red. Gryffindor's color. She chuckled. "It was either this, or wear one of the gowns you'd seen before." Not that it matters to you, she thought. A small pendant on a long chain was her only jewelry.

"May I ?" Snape asked, indicating it.

Alex nodded. "The Rose family crest. I don't wear it often, for obvious reasons," she said with a quick, rueful grin. When she made no move to take the necklace off, he leaned across the little table to reach for it. Her heart pounded against her ribs as his knuckles brushed lightly against her breast. Snape lifted the pendant, studied it. It was silver, wrought into a perfect rose only an inch high. The rose twined through an upside-down five-pointed star, the inverted pentagram. In the wizarding world, a recognized symbol of the Dark Arts.

Snape replaced it between her breasts, his fingers lingering for a moment. His hand came up to gently stroke the side of her face. "Beautiful," he murmured, meeting her eyes.

She shivered. Gods, I want him. Snape's eyes gleamed, reflecting the candlelight. Alex smiled. Her heart was racing. "Madam Smee's prediction just might come true," she suggested lightly.

"I'd like that." He sighed and leaned back abruptly. "Unfortunately, there's something I need to get done." Alex blinked. "An, um, errand. I've put it off too long already."

Alex gave him a skeptical look. "I don't understand you," she said slowly.

"I can't explain."

"Try me."

Snape closed his eyes briefly, looking pained. "It's...business. For the Order. That's all I can say."

Alex reached for his hand. "You know, Severus, you could try trusting me, just a little." She searched his eyes. What is it with you ? He looked away.

"I think it best if I leave now." He stood, slinging his cloak over his shoulders. He tossed several galleons onto the table. "The portkey back is located on the fountain in the village square." His voice was matter-of-fact. Impersonal. "Just tap on the Latin inscription, benignus benignis. It will take you back to the gates of Hogwarts. Good evening, Miss Rose."

Alex sat for a long minute after he left the pub, blinking back tears. Pull yourself together, she told herself sharply. That wasn't about you. She shook her head, suddenly laughing. I said he was a few quarts shy of a full cauldron. I ought to listen to myself more. Alex waited a few minutes more to be sure Severus Snape had had time to leave the village. She really didn't want to run into him again. Not tonight. Finally, she pulled on her cloak and left the Black Horse.

Madam Smee confronted her at the door. "Your lover goes into great danger," she intoned theatrically.

Alex looked up at the plump witch. "He's not my lover," she said firmly. She opened the door and stepped out. "Good evening, Madam Smee."