Chapter Thirty-Five
Disclaimer: I was nowhere near the grassy knoll, I don't know who stole cookies from the cookie jar, the kid is not my son, schmaltz, schmaltz, schmaltz. J.K. owns Hogwarts and all her residents, I only own the sick ideas. Furthermore, everything in this story is fictional: any resemblance to any person, situation, etc, is completely unintentional. This is not how the world or indeed anything works; it's just the ramblings of a sick and twisted mind.
The next morning, there were several very sore heads in Hogwarts castle. Snape, having concluded that Hermione would probably remember the events of the evening as a drunken dream, if at all, had decided the best remedy for his own mind was to get thoroughly plastered himself in the hope his brain would provide him with the same explanation. It hadn't fully worked, but at least the roaring headache he woke up with took his mind off the whole thing.
Sprout, who was beginning her journey by broomstick that afternoon, had knocked tentatively at his door at around ten that morning to beg him for a hangover relief potion. Refusing to take one himself, Snape had taken great pleasure in denying her one and almost cheerily accompanying her to breakfast to ensure she had a sufficient amount of orange juice to replace the vitamins she had lost, the next best thing. If he happened to be in a good mood by afternoon, he would give her the potion as a parting present.
The two of them had arrived to find the rest of the previous evening's group already seated for breakfast, and looking rather worse for it. Snape was too tired to avoid admitting to himself that he was pleased to have to sit next to Hermione.
Around half-way through the meal, a small, fluttery owl twittered into the room, chirping loudly. A vague recollection of the creature struck Snape, but quickly made its faltering way over to Hermione, making a crash landing in her eggs. He saw her face light up in a smile.
'Pig!' Hermione reached forward and picked up the bird, petting it and cooing at it while the diminutive owl shook off the remains of her breakfast. For the first time in his life, Snape found himself jealous of a bird.
Once the owl had cleaned up, Hermione removed the small scroll attached to its leg and unrolled it.
'It's from Ron,' she smiled, 'although I think I see Ginny's hand behind this.'
'How are the two of them doing, dear?' asked McGonagall, leaning past Hooch to speak.
'Fine. Ron's inviting me to their flat next weekend. I think he and Ginny have something planned for my birthday.'
'Oh, that's nice. Will Harry be there?'
Snape frowned. The word 'birthday' disturbed him. One of the many things he attempted to avoid thinking about was how old he must have been when Hermione Granger had been kicking her way into the world. It made him feel like even more of a lecher.
'I'm sure he will. He and Ron always manage to figure something out for my birthdays, although I'm sure Ginny must have been the one to remind them. They usually leave it until about a week after.'
Hooch turned to ask Hermione something else about her letter, but at that moment Snape's hearing shut down as Hermione shifted position. Not only did the movement send a maddening waft of her perfume his way, but, apparently forgetting where she was, her thigh came to rest against his. It took him a few seconds to figure this out, of course, as his brain provided twenty other solutions for the warm, soft presence against his leg, but he couldn't avoid the conclusion in the end.
Snape closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his forehead. Now he understood the whole idea of the Victorians' obsession with ankles. It wouldn't have occurred to him before to think that one simple stretch of thigh could bring his system to a complete halt, but her thigh was so warm and soft resting against him that it made him dizzy. And that was disregarding the purely electrical sensation of having her so near anyway. It was ludicrous.
'Snape, are you okay?' A concerned question from the woman at his side and another shift that took the distraction away, and Snape was able to look up again.
'Fine,' he said curtly. 'I take it, Miss Granger, that you are in no condition to work efficiently today, after your indulgences last night.' A light snort from Minerva's direction made him look sharply down the table, but he dismissed the provocation. 'I propose, then-'
'No need to propose anything,' Hermione replied, with a grin. 'I will be fine to work today. You're right; this work is too important to put on hold because of momentary and avoidable illness. Shall we begin?'
Snape inclined his head, and they both rose. His eyebrow quirked ironically as they exited the great hall. If only he had known Miss Granger would be this easy to control after a bout of alcohol poisoning, he would have refrained from breaking up all those Gryffindor parties years ago.
As they walked down the corridor, Hermione grimaced and touched her head. Snape looked at her.
'You realise, Miss Granger, that you do have the means for making hangover relief potion at your disposal? If it will assist your input for today's research I'm certain I can refrain from my usual comments on weakness and inability to handle alcohol, much as it may cost me,' he said, his wry tone eliciting a small smile from his companion.
'Thank you for your offer, but I'm afraid I can't take one,' Hermione said. 'I took a sleeping potion in my confused state last night, and forgot the effect it can have on top of alcohol. I really shouldn't take anything else-'
She broke off to stare at Snape, who had stopped and was staring at her in alarm.
'You did what last night?' he asked.
Hermione looked at her feet, obviously chagrined. 'I know. It was stupid. All I can remember is feeling very tired and very awake when we got in last night-'
'Come. You need to go to the infirmary,' Snape said, grasping her by the arm and moving toward the sick room. His charge, however, seemed to have other ideas, and resisted.
'Snape, really, I'm okay. Poppy will have gone back to bed and anyway I don't need it. I admit it was a stupid thing to do, but I'm certainly paying the consequences for it this morning.'
Snape turned on her. 'Don't be a fool. I found you last night, evidently after you had ingested the potion, but I assumed you were blind drunk and put you in your rooms. If anything had happened to you, it would have been my responsibility.'
Hermione looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. 'I'm sorry, I didn't realise,' she said, giving his arm a squeeze. 'Thank you for taking care of me. And for not making fun of me,' she added with a smile. 'But it is my fault entirely, not yours. Even a fourth-year potions student knows not to mix potions and alcohol.' She sighed, and steered him back on track for the dungeons. 'I'm fine. If I hadn't been so exhausted from lack of sleep in the first place I would have been more responsible.'
Snape frowned. 'Why did you not sleep? he asked, then caught the wry look Hermione shot him. Ah, he thought with a tingle of satisfaction. Evidently he wasn't the only one losing sleep over certain dreams. 'Yet another of my responsibilities,' he muttered as he followed her down the corridor.
He frowned as they descended into the relative darkness of the dungeon stairs. He should have recognised the effects of a badly-mixed sedative, but he had been so preoccupied with taking advantage of the state she was in he hadn't spared a thought as to why she was in it.
Once they were down in the close, cold confines of the dungeons, it took only ten minutes of watching her wince for Snape to give in. Lavender oil was a natural cure for headaches and migraines, and also soothed other body aches. He naturally had a good supply of it in his stores, and it would take about two minutes out of his time to massage some of the oil into her temples for her. Sanity was overrated anyway.
Resignedly, he walked into the stores cupboard and retrieved a small bottle of the oil, coming to stand in front of Hermione, who was rubbing her temples with her fingers. He paused a second, then inwardly shrugged and reached forward to take her hands away.
***
Hermione watched in stunned silence as Snape poured some of the oil on to his fingers and began to massage it into her temples. If someone had told her Snape's reaction to her hangover would be caring and sympathetic, she would have laughed until she fell over. If anything, she had been grateful when he hadn't given her hell over it this morning, had been touched by his concern over her mistake with the sleeping potion, and had almost melted when she found out he'd all but put her to bed last night, which meant that the incredibly passionate 'dream' she'd thought she'd had was quite possibly reality. But 'melted' didn't even compare to the feeling she had now, as his fingers smoothed warm oil over her skin-this time she was actually sober enough to experience it.
Best of all, it was actually getting rid of her headache.
She let her eyes drift shut with a small moan as the potions master's graceful fingers worked the lavender oil into her skin. This wasn't exactly the same as crawling into his arms and attacking him with passionate kisses, but it was almost as good. She knew she should be upset or embarrassed by her behaviour the night before, what she could remember of it, but she was just to damned sleepy to care. If Snape was going to be gentleman enough to not mention it, then she could keep the memory of his taste and tongue without embarrassment. By the time his fingers finally left her skin, all she could do was sigh.
Slowly, Hermione opened her eyes and blinked. 'Thank you.'
'We will get no work done if you cannot concentrate because you are ill,' Snape said curtly, turning away. 'Today, we will work outside.'
Hermione's mouth was open in shock, but she quickly closed it. 'Are you sure I'm not the only one who's ill?'
'We need to survey Sprout's stock of plants anyway,' Snape said, gathering a couple of books and moving to stand at the door. Seeing that Hermione was still watching him in amazement, he raised an eyebrow and said, 'Despite popular rumour, Miss Granger, I am capable of appearing in sunlight without burning to ashes.' Hermione inclined her head in acceptance of the offer, and followed Snape out of the room, still slightly in shock.
***
McGonagall walked away from her balcony with a frown. If she hadn't known better, she could have sworn she'd just seen Severus Snape and Hermione Granger strolling together in the sunshine by the lake. Of course, it was difficult to tell, with the angle at which she had to lean out over the balcony to squint over at the lake- all a part of her daily exercise routine, of course, which had nothing to do with the fact that she had spied the two of them heading down the lawn together in a lakewards direction and had raced to her rooms to see if she was right. Because Minerva McGonagall would never have jumped to the conclusion that her two colleagues heading down to one of the designated romantic spots in the castle grounds meant some sort of understanding between them. And she certainly wasn't craning precariously over her balcony in the hope that she would be able to catch a glimpse of their first-
'Minerva McGonagall! What are you doing, trying to kill yourself?' a shrill voice startled her off her perch, and it was only by the quick actions of the voice's owner that she was prevented from tumbling over the stones to the grass and rock garden below. Minerva looked down. Her rooms were in the north tower; the grass was far, far below.
Patting her hair, Minerva turned around and met the reproving gaze of Poppy Pomfrey.
'I know you are a cat, Minerva, but a plunge down several storeys onto a rock garden cannot be your idea of fun,' Poppy said.
'I was gathering information,' McGonagall said huffily, still a bit startled. She moved over to the table set up on her balcony and gratefully took her seat.
'On what? How much of a splat you would make when tumbling down the side of the castle?'
Minerva glared at her colleague. 'If you're going to continue in that tone, Poppy, I will not tell you what I just saw.' She reached forward and poured herself some tea. 'Even if it does concern Severus and Hermione,' she added.
Her companion immediately became all attentiveness, pulling out a seat for herself. 'All right. You have my attention. What did you see to do with Severus and Hermione?'
'What's with Severus and Hermione?' asked a voice from the open balcony door. Both women looked up to see Madam Hooch and Professor Sprout climbing out onto the balcony.
Esmerelda Sprout gave Hooch a wry look. 'Do you need to ask? I thought we'd sorted out that they've got the hots for each other.' Hooch rolled her eyes and moved toward the table.
'Minerva just saw them doing something,' Poppy explained as the two newcomers took their seats. Minerva ignored their curious looks as she primly poured out tea for them all.
'Okay, Minerva, out with it,' Hooch said, staring at the transfigurations professor, who merely sat back and sipped her tea, a look of feigned innocence on her face.
Sprout glared at her. 'Stop dragging it out, Min. You always were such a drama queen.'
McGonagall shrugged and gave in. 'Well, I was just walking up the north corridor on the way to my rooms, and I glimpsed the two of them walking over the lawn. You'll never guess where they were heading.' Poppy raised her eyebrows, but the other two looked markedly unimpressed.
'The lake,' Hooch said, reaching forward for a biscuit. McGonagall frowned.
'We passed them on the way up here,' Sprout explained, a note of apology in her voice. 'And I wouldn't get too excited- they were deep in a conversation about funguses when we passed them.'
'Fungi,' Poppy corrected. Sprout narrowed her eyes at her.
'I'm on holiday.'
Minerva ignored the teasing. 'It is possible that they will change topic once they get down to the lake,' she suggested. 'Such a romantic setting, on a sunny day...'
Hooch snorted. 'Romantic like a sewer,' she said. 'I've never understood why the students favour it as a spot for trysts. Smells of fish. And sunshine isn't exactly an encouragement to get down and dirty, either, not when you're in view of the entire castle.'
Minerva glared at her. 'I wasn't thinking along those lines, Freya. You do have a one track mind. I was just hoping they would have time to... talk. Especially after last night.' Like a shot, the gazes of the other three women snapped up to Minerva's face, and she smiled. 'Oh, didn't I tell you? I caught Severus exiting Hermione's rooms last night, about an hour after we all got home. With his clothes rumpled. And a smile on his face.'
'Are you sure you weren't hallucinating? I've only ever seen Severus smile when he's been torturing someone,' Poppy said.
'Well, he's never got laid before,' Hooch added with a grin, 'not since we've all known him at least. Maybe he smiles then too.'
'I've known Severus Snape since he was sixteen, Freya, thank you very much,' said Sprout, 'and he doesn't smile when he's just got laid.' Hooch raised her eyebrows suggestively, and Sprout sighed. 'Don't ask me how I knew that. And no, it wasn't me.'
'So Severus was in Hermione's rooms...' Poppy said.
The other women sat back in contemplation.
'They have had a lot of time to talk in the dungeons,' Sprout said, thoughtfully.
'All that time, alone in the dark, nothing to interrupt them as they get to know each other...' Hooch said.
'Knowing the two of them, they would have done nothing but work,' Poppy answered, with a frown. 'I'm sorry to disappoint you all, but I can't see last night meaning what you all think it means. Hermione had alcohol in her system, for a start- you know how sensitive Severus is to that sort of thing. He would have considered it taking advantage of her.'
'Not like he hasn't done it before...' Sprout began, then caught Minerva's glare. 'I know, I know, that wasn't fair. So he wouldn't have taken advantage of her.'
'Not when he knew we'd all been out together,' Minerva said, nodding her head slowly. 'No, I'm afraid Poppy's right. They're no closer together today than they were weeks ago.'
'Being outside together, though- that's a good sign,' Hooch suggested. The others nodded. Silence settled over them as they each contemplated their own thoughts,
'I just wish they'd damn well get together!' Poppy exploded, making the other three jump.
'Well, I don't,' Sprout said, standing. 'Not until I get back in a few weeks, anyway. And on that note, I'd better be off.' The others stood also, and the topic of Hermione and Severus was forgotten in a flurry of goodbyes. Hooch set off with the traveller to see her off, leaving Poppy and Minerva contemplating their tea.
'I really do wish there was something we could do to hurry Severus along,' Minerva said, staring out at the cerulean sky. Poppy merely furrowed her brow thoughtfully.
***
Hermione stood in the moonlight at her window. She was taking a few moments to process the events of the day, something she desperately needed to do after the extremely odd day she had just had.
The thoughtful little massage Snape had given her that morning had removed the signs of her hangover almost completely, the feeling of his fingers having stunned the headache out of her more than anything else. It had remained stunned away for the remainder of the day, as the two of them walked around the Hogwarts grounds discussing their research so far on the project.
Following them around, however, was a feeling of... uneasiness. Hermione really couldn't pin down the feeling until it was almost lunch time, and they had headed back toward the looming castle. As they entered its doors, she had realised what it was: everything about the morning outside had simply felt wrong. She knew that Snape was trying to be considerate, but that was the problem. Considerate and Snape simply didn't gel. Neither did sunshine and Snape. Strolling and Snape. Sensitive and Snape. There were a number of 's' words that went very well with Snape, but those definitely did not. He didn't seem to be comfortable with them either, explaining the unusually plastic way he had acted all morning.
Which was why she had grabbed Snape's arm as he had headed for the hall for lunch (socialising and Snape...) and had steered him toward the dungeons, voicing the concern that all the sunshine had gone to his head and he had forgotten that they had work to do. She had even threatened him with the term 'social butterfly.'
The dungeons had, thankfully, dispersed all the strangeness of the morning, and brought out some 's' words Hermione definitely liked when it came to Snape. Sneering and Snape. Sinister and Snape. Even, when she had practiced her own particular method of driving him mad, almost seductive and Snape (but alas not quite, she sighed inwardly).
The day had taken a new turn when a visitor had appeared at the door an hour before dinner. Hermione hadn't even noticed the new presence until a pair of hands had blocked her vision and a gravelly voice had whispered, 'Guess who?' Unfortunately, Snape had made an exit from the store room at the precise moment Hermione had turned around to hug Sirius Black, who was on a brief visit to Dumbledore for the afternoon. Sirius's reaction had been his usual enthusiastic returned hug: Snape's had been a frosty glare that had turned the rather mild atmosphere in the dungeons to a bitter cold.
After a short conversation with Sirius, who explained he would be back in a week or so to finish his talks with Dumbledore and would see her at dinner anyway, the two researchers had again been left alone in the dungeons, the atmosphere somewhat more tense than that before their visitor. A rigid silence on Snape's part had begun to irk Hermione, particularly when it began to interfere with the working atmosphere that had tentatively developed between the two of them. It had given her time to ponder over what had happened the night before. If she really had attacked and passionately kissed him, as she thought she had, then why in the seven hells hadn't the man mentioned it? Though her memory was foggy, she didn't remember him resisting too much. Surely he wasn't pretending today that he hadn't liked it? The thought stirred Hermione's irritation even more.
Eventually she had brushed her hands of her work, informed Snape calmly that he could use the potion to lubricate the pole he was sitting on if it would make the look on his face go away, and went up to dinner.
She'd got to the stairs leading from the dungeon before he'd called her back. Needless to say, he had not taken the comment well. His lecture on proper respect had only irritated her more and the argument had ended with her throwing her hands up in the air and storming away.
All in all, it had been quite satisfying. Shouting and Snape was a strangely gratifying situation. Silent Snape, without the essential touch of sinister Snape, was just no fun. He was just Snape giving someone the silent treatment.
Fighting with Snape had been a rather soothing ending to a troubled day, Hermione thought as she ran her hand over the cool stone of her windowsill. Enjoying those more difficult aspects of Snape may have made her a masochist, but it also made her comfortable. In the wizard world, she had quickly learnt to be uncomfortable when people were behaving against their natures; after all, it was generally what the Dark asked people to do for power. Besides, after all these years, she doubted she could cope with a Snape that was able to walk in the sun without burning to ashes.
She always had liked vampires.
With a sigh, she walked over to her bed and began to undress, frowning slightly as she did so. Things became so very complicated around Snape. As far as she could see, there were only a few ways to deal with him, and there was definitely one that stood out from the others. She just hoped it was the right one for her.
Because Hermione had made a decision, and it was one that made being around a kind, considerate Severus Snape all the harder.
She walked over to her desk and sat, taking out a quill and parchment. It had taken her a long time to realise what she wanted to do, but now that she had, it felt like a huge pressure pressing down on her had been blown away. There was a certain sort of calm, even though there was at least as much nervousness. She was sure, however, that she had made the right decision.
Nodding her head firmly, she began to write. Like every other aspect of her life, this new decision needed research.
***
The weekend preceding her birthday, the date for her visit with Harry, Ron and Ginny, arrived quite soon for a impatient and grateful Hermione. As the weekend of her visit approached, she had noticed Snape becoming more and more distant, with something strange in his glance at her, and this made her want to leave even more. The announcement that Sirius Black would be making a visit to Hogwarts to help Dumbledore with some strategising didn't help any; Snape had watched Hermione very carefully whenever the topic of his schoolyard foe came up, making her even more self-conscious. The visit was a blessing, all things considered, she thought as she walked down the path to Hogsmeade, the impression of a very quiet Snape sitting in the dungeon of her mind.
She arrived at Ron and Ginny's at the precise time they had requested, and received the hugs of her friends with a smile. Harry and Ron did their usual bit of jeering at how old she was getting, and Ginny presented her with a very thoughtful present that the boys had obviously had no part in choosing, unless they had suddenly developed a taste in eighteenth century romance poetry and hair clips.
The four of them then moved on to a restaurant where Hermione picked at her food, and a nightclub where she watched the other three dance away until the wee hours of the morning. Though she did her best to put on a display of enjoyment, she couldn't put aside her impatience to have the evening over. She needed, for the first time in her life, to have a heart to heart with Ginny.
Finally, they headed back to the flat, sitting drinking and chatting until the boys went to bed. Ginny, who seemed to have sensed that a girly chat was on the cards, had been most helpful in ensuring the boys time in slumberland.
This left the two girls sitting on the lounge room floor, a bottle of tequila between them and the light from a single lamp and a few glowing candles giving the room an intimate feel which didn't help Hermione one bit. She bit her lip, sensing Ginny sitting with almost predatorial attention across from her.
'Ginny, if I tell you something, will you promise not to talk about it with anyone?' she asked. 'No matter how... weird it is,' she added as Ginny raised her eyebrows, 'and that means no hinting to the boys that you know something that they don't, or smiling secretively, or...'
Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Hermione, I know I may look like a bit of a ditz, but trust me: as the only daughter in my family there's no way I would have survived if I couldn't keep things to myself.'
Hermione nodded. 'Okay. Sorry. It's just, well, this is really...' Words failed her. Now that she was actually trying to tell someone about it all, it really did sound too strange to believe.
Ginny reached over and poured them out each a shot of tequila, encouraging Hermione to drink and patting her on the back as she coughed at the harsh spirits.
'Now, let me make this easier for you,' Ginny said solemnly. 'You're a lesbian, aren't you?'
Hermione's eyes widened, and she coughed harder. 'What? No! Why?'
Her friend put her hand over her mouth and giggled. 'Sorry. It wasn't like I thought you were coming on to me or anything. It's just that I've had this conversation with a few of my friends lately. I thought I'd make it a bit easier for you. I know how hard it can be to come out of the closet. You know, you haven't really had any boyfriends, at least not at school...' She spread her hands and shrugged. 'Sorry. You were saying?'
Hermione frowned. 'Actually, I guess what I want to talk about kind of has something to do with that. The no-boyfriend thing.' Ginny nodded encouragingly, and Hermione took a deep breath. This was more difficult than she had imagined - at least the other witches had forced the admission out of her.
'Well,' she began. 'There's this guy. And I sort of - like him.'
'Ooh,' Ginny said, rubbing her hands together. 'Great. Who is he? How long have you been together? Come on, I want all the goss.'
'It's not like that,' Hermione said, panicking. 'I don't *like* like him. I just, sort of, like him.'
The girl across from her looked at her quizzically. 'Uh-huh. So what's the deal?'
Hermione frowned in thought for a second, trying to think of how to put it. 'I'm really attracted to him. I can't stop thinking about him, or not just him, but his voice, or his hands. It's so *frustrating.*' She clenched her hands briefly, and looked up to see Ginny grinning at her.
'Don't know the feeling at all,' Ginny said.
'Neither do I,' Hermione muttered wryly. Ginny gave her a confused look.
'So have you done anything about it?'
'Not exactly.' Hermione looked down. She supposed they had, but at the same time they hadn't. 'It's complicated.'
'Well, you're helpful,' Ginny said. 'Does he know or not?'
Even that question had its own complications. 'I - I don't know. He- well, I guess I did, too - we kissed.'
'Then he knows. A kiss is a pretty good indicator.'
'But he can't know!' Frustration got the better of her. 'He can't possibly know what he's been putting me through! For the whole school year- all year we've been circling around each other - although some times it feels like it's just me circling him - ugh!'
Ginny's eyes lit up. 'He's at school? A student? You naughty girl.'
Hermione looked at Ginny in surprise. 'I would never behave so inappropriately with a student.'
Ginny waved her hand. 'Sorry. Again. Okay, so he's not a student. Hmm. You're not making this easy. One of the professors at your college?'
'Uh...' Hermione bit her lip. 'Not at *college*, no.' Ginny's eyes narrowed.
'Who, then? Someone in Hogsmeade?'
Hermione sighed. Obviously, this was not meant to be easy. 'No. Professor Snape. Severus Snape. From Hogwarts.' She waited for the furious shout of surprise, but none came. When she looked over at Ginny, she was surprised to see the other girl nodding her head slowly.
'That makes sense. He's a bit dark and brooding, but he's certainly intelligent enough to catch your interest.'
Hermione gaped. 'You're not completely disgusted?'
Ginny shook her head. 'Not at all. In fact, I sort of had a thing for Snape when I was going through one of my dark periods at school. I used to fantasise that I'd tied him up to a table and tortured him with feathers and silk and strategic use of whips until he-' Ginny caught Hermione's shocked look, and shrugged. 'Well, you know how it was. That wasn't half as bad as what I used to think about Lucius Malfoy.'
Hermione stared at her friend for a few moments, then sighed. 'I know that I'm going to think better of this, but my curiosity has got the better of me. What, exactly, with Lucius Malfoy...?'
'Pretty much the same thing, only I'd planned to get him to the point of breaking and leave him there, enormously frustrated.'
Hermione closed her eyes to blot out that image, and Ginny continued. 'So, you and Professor Snape? Have you done anything else other than kiss him?'
'Yes. No. Sort of... it's complicated,' Hermione said, squeezing her eyes even more tightly closed as she realised how much she was rambling. 'He gave me love bites on my neck, and I think I scratched him-'
'While you were kissing?'
'No, that was earlier. These were from the dreams-although I suppose I can't talk about that,' Hermione mused. 'It's sort of classified.'
Ginny raised an eyebrow. 'You and Snape dream about each other and it's been classified? What the hell are you doing in those dreams?'
Reaching out to play with her shot glass, Hermione grinned. 'Lots.' Ginny grinned back.
'So you've kissed, and he's somehow given you a love bite or two. What's next?'
'I want to sleep with him.' Hermione said it with determination. Ginny raised her eyebrows and nodded slowly. 'I need help.' Ginny gave her a mischievous look, and Hermione's lips quirked. 'Not in that way. I need advice.'
Her companion nodded again and poured them out each another shot. 'What do you need to know?'
Picking up her drink and sipping this time, Hermione thought for a moment. 'I need to seduce him. I don't know how.'
'Hmm,' Ginny said, downing her drink. 'Seduction's pretty easy, really. Just a case of wearing the right skirt, sending the right signals. Get him into a corner and then just leap on him.'
'Gin, I don't think that would work with Severus Snape, do you?' Hermione looked at the younger girl satirically.
'Why not?' Ginny asked. 'He's human, isn't he?' Hermione shook her head.
'It isn't that simple. If I start making moves on him he's likely to call me a silly little girl and send me away. He has a habit of doing that.'
Ginny frowned. 'Well, that makes it difficult. How about dinner?'
Hermione looked at her. 'We eat in the great hall, remember?'
'Ah.' Ginny narrowed her eyes in thought. 'It doesn't prevent you from asking him out to dinner, though?'
'No...' Hermione said, hesitantly. 'Actually, he might even do that if I asked. But it would feel wrong. He's not... a 'dating' person. I can't imagine he'd want to parade his personal life in that way. I'm not sure *I'd* want to. It could just make things more awkward.'
'Ah. You want straight seduction.'
Hermione nodded. She couldn't have put it better herself.
'Well,' Ginny began, shifting position, 'there are plenty of ways to seduce someone. It really depends on the person, and how much they want to be seduced. Escalating looks and touches, a drink after work, some quiet time together. Maybe you could get the house elves to prepare a meal for the two of you in your rooms- I hear the private rooms in Hogwarts are pretty swanky.'
'I'm not sure he'd go for that,' Hermione said. 'I could organise some research in my rooms, though...' She caught Ginny's eye, and they both giggled.
'This is insane,' Ginny said. 'Here are Hermione and Ginny, plotting how to lose Hermione's virginity to Professor Snape.' That set them both off again.
'Here's to me having sex with Snape,' Hermione said, raising her glass. This made Ginny fall over, giggling. Hermione shook her head at her friend, knowing that they were probably a little too inebriated to seriously discuss the issue. With a shrug, she helped Ginny up and the two retired for the night, making bad puns until they fell asleep.
***
Not too terribly far away, a small, dark meeting was breaking up. Snape finished washing his hands in the stone sink of the room he had been kept in for the last seven hours, and exited out to the apparating ground. Tomorrow was Sunday; perhaps even Lucifer could have a day of rest.
Disclaimer: I was nowhere near the grassy knoll, I don't know who stole cookies from the cookie jar, the kid is not my son, schmaltz, schmaltz, schmaltz. J.K. owns Hogwarts and all her residents, I only own the sick ideas. Furthermore, everything in this story is fictional: any resemblance to any person, situation, etc, is completely unintentional. This is not how the world or indeed anything works; it's just the ramblings of a sick and twisted mind.
The next morning, there were several very sore heads in Hogwarts castle. Snape, having concluded that Hermione would probably remember the events of the evening as a drunken dream, if at all, had decided the best remedy for his own mind was to get thoroughly plastered himself in the hope his brain would provide him with the same explanation. It hadn't fully worked, but at least the roaring headache he woke up with took his mind off the whole thing.
Sprout, who was beginning her journey by broomstick that afternoon, had knocked tentatively at his door at around ten that morning to beg him for a hangover relief potion. Refusing to take one himself, Snape had taken great pleasure in denying her one and almost cheerily accompanying her to breakfast to ensure she had a sufficient amount of orange juice to replace the vitamins she had lost, the next best thing. If he happened to be in a good mood by afternoon, he would give her the potion as a parting present.
The two of them had arrived to find the rest of the previous evening's group already seated for breakfast, and looking rather worse for it. Snape was too tired to avoid admitting to himself that he was pleased to have to sit next to Hermione.
Around half-way through the meal, a small, fluttery owl twittered into the room, chirping loudly. A vague recollection of the creature struck Snape, but quickly made its faltering way over to Hermione, making a crash landing in her eggs. He saw her face light up in a smile.
'Pig!' Hermione reached forward and picked up the bird, petting it and cooing at it while the diminutive owl shook off the remains of her breakfast. For the first time in his life, Snape found himself jealous of a bird.
Once the owl had cleaned up, Hermione removed the small scroll attached to its leg and unrolled it.
'It's from Ron,' she smiled, 'although I think I see Ginny's hand behind this.'
'How are the two of them doing, dear?' asked McGonagall, leaning past Hooch to speak.
'Fine. Ron's inviting me to their flat next weekend. I think he and Ginny have something planned for my birthday.'
'Oh, that's nice. Will Harry be there?'
Snape frowned. The word 'birthday' disturbed him. One of the many things he attempted to avoid thinking about was how old he must have been when Hermione Granger had been kicking her way into the world. It made him feel like even more of a lecher.
'I'm sure he will. He and Ron always manage to figure something out for my birthdays, although I'm sure Ginny must have been the one to remind them. They usually leave it until about a week after.'
Hooch turned to ask Hermione something else about her letter, but at that moment Snape's hearing shut down as Hermione shifted position. Not only did the movement send a maddening waft of her perfume his way, but, apparently forgetting where she was, her thigh came to rest against his. It took him a few seconds to figure this out, of course, as his brain provided twenty other solutions for the warm, soft presence against his leg, but he couldn't avoid the conclusion in the end.
Snape closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his forehead. Now he understood the whole idea of the Victorians' obsession with ankles. It wouldn't have occurred to him before to think that one simple stretch of thigh could bring his system to a complete halt, but her thigh was so warm and soft resting against him that it made him dizzy. And that was disregarding the purely electrical sensation of having her so near anyway. It was ludicrous.
'Snape, are you okay?' A concerned question from the woman at his side and another shift that took the distraction away, and Snape was able to look up again.
'Fine,' he said curtly. 'I take it, Miss Granger, that you are in no condition to work efficiently today, after your indulgences last night.' A light snort from Minerva's direction made him look sharply down the table, but he dismissed the provocation. 'I propose, then-'
'No need to propose anything,' Hermione replied, with a grin. 'I will be fine to work today. You're right; this work is too important to put on hold because of momentary and avoidable illness. Shall we begin?'
Snape inclined his head, and they both rose. His eyebrow quirked ironically as they exited the great hall. If only he had known Miss Granger would be this easy to control after a bout of alcohol poisoning, he would have refrained from breaking up all those Gryffindor parties years ago.
As they walked down the corridor, Hermione grimaced and touched her head. Snape looked at her.
'You realise, Miss Granger, that you do have the means for making hangover relief potion at your disposal? If it will assist your input for today's research I'm certain I can refrain from my usual comments on weakness and inability to handle alcohol, much as it may cost me,' he said, his wry tone eliciting a small smile from his companion.
'Thank you for your offer, but I'm afraid I can't take one,' Hermione said. 'I took a sleeping potion in my confused state last night, and forgot the effect it can have on top of alcohol. I really shouldn't take anything else-'
She broke off to stare at Snape, who had stopped and was staring at her in alarm.
'You did what last night?' he asked.
Hermione looked at her feet, obviously chagrined. 'I know. It was stupid. All I can remember is feeling very tired and very awake when we got in last night-'
'Come. You need to go to the infirmary,' Snape said, grasping her by the arm and moving toward the sick room. His charge, however, seemed to have other ideas, and resisted.
'Snape, really, I'm okay. Poppy will have gone back to bed and anyway I don't need it. I admit it was a stupid thing to do, but I'm certainly paying the consequences for it this morning.'
Snape turned on her. 'Don't be a fool. I found you last night, evidently after you had ingested the potion, but I assumed you were blind drunk and put you in your rooms. If anything had happened to you, it would have been my responsibility.'
Hermione looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. 'I'm sorry, I didn't realise,' she said, giving his arm a squeeze. 'Thank you for taking care of me. And for not making fun of me,' she added with a smile. 'But it is my fault entirely, not yours. Even a fourth-year potions student knows not to mix potions and alcohol.' She sighed, and steered him back on track for the dungeons. 'I'm fine. If I hadn't been so exhausted from lack of sleep in the first place I would have been more responsible.'
Snape frowned. 'Why did you not sleep? he asked, then caught the wry look Hermione shot him. Ah, he thought with a tingle of satisfaction. Evidently he wasn't the only one losing sleep over certain dreams. 'Yet another of my responsibilities,' he muttered as he followed her down the corridor.
He frowned as they descended into the relative darkness of the dungeon stairs. He should have recognised the effects of a badly-mixed sedative, but he had been so preoccupied with taking advantage of the state she was in he hadn't spared a thought as to why she was in it.
Once they were down in the close, cold confines of the dungeons, it took only ten minutes of watching her wince for Snape to give in. Lavender oil was a natural cure for headaches and migraines, and also soothed other body aches. He naturally had a good supply of it in his stores, and it would take about two minutes out of his time to massage some of the oil into her temples for her. Sanity was overrated anyway.
Resignedly, he walked into the stores cupboard and retrieved a small bottle of the oil, coming to stand in front of Hermione, who was rubbing her temples with her fingers. He paused a second, then inwardly shrugged and reached forward to take her hands away.
***
Hermione watched in stunned silence as Snape poured some of the oil on to his fingers and began to massage it into her temples. If someone had told her Snape's reaction to her hangover would be caring and sympathetic, she would have laughed until she fell over. If anything, she had been grateful when he hadn't given her hell over it this morning, had been touched by his concern over her mistake with the sleeping potion, and had almost melted when she found out he'd all but put her to bed last night, which meant that the incredibly passionate 'dream' she'd thought she'd had was quite possibly reality. But 'melted' didn't even compare to the feeling she had now, as his fingers smoothed warm oil over her skin-this time she was actually sober enough to experience it.
Best of all, it was actually getting rid of her headache.
She let her eyes drift shut with a small moan as the potions master's graceful fingers worked the lavender oil into her skin. This wasn't exactly the same as crawling into his arms and attacking him with passionate kisses, but it was almost as good. She knew she should be upset or embarrassed by her behaviour the night before, what she could remember of it, but she was just to damned sleepy to care. If Snape was going to be gentleman enough to not mention it, then she could keep the memory of his taste and tongue without embarrassment. By the time his fingers finally left her skin, all she could do was sigh.
Slowly, Hermione opened her eyes and blinked. 'Thank you.'
'We will get no work done if you cannot concentrate because you are ill,' Snape said curtly, turning away. 'Today, we will work outside.'
Hermione's mouth was open in shock, but she quickly closed it. 'Are you sure I'm not the only one who's ill?'
'We need to survey Sprout's stock of plants anyway,' Snape said, gathering a couple of books and moving to stand at the door. Seeing that Hermione was still watching him in amazement, he raised an eyebrow and said, 'Despite popular rumour, Miss Granger, I am capable of appearing in sunlight without burning to ashes.' Hermione inclined her head in acceptance of the offer, and followed Snape out of the room, still slightly in shock.
***
McGonagall walked away from her balcony with a frown. If she hadn't known better, she could have sworn she'd just seen Severus Snape and Hermione Granger strolling together in the sunshine by the lake. Of course, it was difficult to tell, with the angle at which she had to lean out over the balcony to squint over at the lake- all a part of her daily exercise routine, of course, which had nothing to do with the fact that she had spied the two of them heading down the lawn together in a lakewards direction and had raced to her rooms to see if she was right. Because Minerva McGonagall would never have jumped to the conclusion that her two colleagues heading down to one of the designated romantic spots in the castle grounds meant some sort of understanding between them. And she certainly wasn't craning precariously over her balcony in the hope that she would be able to catch a glimpse of their first-
'Minerva McGonagall! What are you doing, trying to kill yourself?' a shrill voice startled her off her perch, and it was only by the quick actions of the voice's owner that she was prevented from tumbling over the stones to the grass and rock garden below. Minerva looked down. Her rooms were in the north tower; the grass was far, far below.
Patting her hair, Minerva turned around and met the reproving gaze of Poppy Pomfrey.
'I know you are a cat, Minerva, but a plunge down several storeys onto a rock garden cannot be your idea of fun,' Poppy said.
'I was gathering information,' McGonagall said huffily, still a bit startled. She moved over to the table set up on her balcony and gratefully took her seat.
'On what? How much of a splat you would make when tumbling down the side of the castle?'
Minerva glared at her colleague. 'If you're going to continue in that tone, Poppy, I will not tell you what I just saw.' She reached forward and poured herself some tea. 'Even if it does concern Severus and Hermione,' she added.
Her companion immediately became all attentiveness, pulling out a seat for herself. 'All right. You have my attention. What did you see to do with Severus and Hermione?'
'What's with Severus and Hermione?' asked a voice from the open balcony door. Both women looked up to see Madam Hooch and Professor Sprout climbing out onto the balcony.
Esmerelda Sprout gave Hooch a wry look. 'Do you need to ask? I thought we'd sorted out that they've got the hots for each other.' Hooch rolled her eyes and moved toward the table.
'Minerva just saw them doing something,' Poppy explained as the two newcomers took their seats. Minerva ignored their curious looks as she primly poured out tea for them all.
'Okay, Minerva, out with it,' Hooch said, staring at the transfigurations professor, who merely sat back and sipped her tea, a look of feigned innocence on her face.
Sprout glared at her. 'Stop dragging it out, Min. You always were such a drama queen.'
McGonagall shrugged and gave in. 'Well, I was just walking up the north corridor on the way to my rooms, and I glimpsed the two of them walking over the lawn. You'll never guess where they were heading.' Poppy raised her eyebrows, but the other two looked markedly unimpressed.
'The lake,' Hooch said, reaching forward for a biscuit. McGonagall frowned.
'We passed them on the way up here,' Sprout explained, a note of apology in her voice. 'And I wouldn't get too excited- they were deep in a conversation about funguses when we passed them.'
'Fungi,' Poppy corrected. Sprout narrowed her eyes at her.
'I'm on holiday.'
Minerva ignored the teasing. 'It is possible that they will change topic once they get down to the lake,' she suggested. 'Such a romantic setting, on a sunny day...'
Hooch snorted. 'Romantic like a sewer,' she said. 'I've never understood why the students favour it as a spot for trysts. Smells of fish. And sunshine isn't exactly an encouragement to get down and dirty, either, not when you're in view of the entire castle.'
Minerva glared at her. 'I wasn't thinking along those lines, Freya. You do have a one track mind. I was just hoping they would have time to... talk. Especially after last night.' Like a shot, the gazes of the other three women snapped up to Minerva's face, and she smiled. 'Oh, didn't I tell you? I caught Severus exiting Hermione's rooms last night, about an hour after we all got home. With his clothes rumpled. And a smile on his face.'
'Are you sure you weren't hallucinating? I've only ever seen Severus smile when he's been torturing someone,' Poppy said.
'Well, he's never got laid before,' Hooch added with a grin, 'not since we've all known him at least. Maybe he smiles then too.'
'I've known Severus Snape since he was sixteen, Freya, thank you very much,' said Sprout, 'and he doesn't smile when he's just got laid.' Hooch raised her eyebrows suggestively, and Sprout sighed. 'Don't ask me how I knew that. And no, it wasn't me.'
'So Severus was in Hermione's rooms...' Poppy said.
The other women sat back in contemplation.
'They have had a lot of time to talk in the dungeons,' Sprout said, thoughtfully.
'All that time, alone in the dark, nothing to interrupt them as they get to know each other...' Hooch said.
'Knowing the two of them, they would have done nothing but work,' Poppy answered, with a frown. 'I'm sorry to disappoint you all, but I can't see last night meaning what you all think it means. Hermione had alcohol in her system, for a start- you know how sensitive Severus is to that sort of thing. He would have considered it taking advantage of her.'
'Not like he hasn't done it before...' Sprout began, then caught Minerva's glare. 'I know, I know, that wasn't fair. So he wouldn't have taken advantage of her.'
'Not when he knew we'd all been out together,' Minerva said, nodding her head slowly. 'No, I'm afraid Poppy's right. They're no closer together today than they were weeks ago.'
'Being outside together, though- that's a good sign,' Hooch suggested. The others nodded. Silence settled over them as they each contemplated their own thoughts,
'I just wish they'd damn well get together!' Poppy exploded, making the other three jump.
'Well, I don't,' Sprout said, standing. 'Not until I get back in a few weeks, anyway. And on that note, I'd better be off.' The others stood also, and the topic of Hermione and Severus was forgotten in a flurry of goodbyes. Hooch set off with the traveller to see her off, leaving Poppy and Minerva contemplating their tea.
'I really do wish there was something we could do to hurry Severus along,' Minerva said, staring out at the cerulean sky. Poppy merely furrowed her brow thoughtfully.
***
Hermione stood in the moonlight at her window. She was taking a few moments to process the events of the day, something she desperately needed to do after the extremely odd day she had just had.
The thoughtful little massage Snape had given her that morning had removed the signs of her hangover almost completely, the feeling of his fingers having stunned the headache out of her more than anything else. It had remained stunned away for the remainder of the day, as the two of them walked around the Hogwarts grounds discussing their research so far on the project.
Following them around, however, was a feeling of... uneasiness. Hermione really couldn't pin down the feeling until it was almost lunch time, and they had headed back toward the looming castle. As they entered its doors, she had realised what it was: everything about the morning outside had simply felt wrong. She knew that Snape was trying to be considerate, but that was the problem. Considerate and Snape simply didn't gel. Neither did sunshine and Snape. Strolling and Snape. Sensitive and Snape. There were a number of 's' words that went very well with Snape, but those definitely did not. He didn't seem to be comfortable with them either, explaining the unusually plastic way he had acted all morning.
Which was why she had grabbed Snape's arm as he had headed for the hall for lunch (socialising and Snape...) and had steered him toward the dungeons, voicing the concern that all the sunshine had gone to his head and he had forgotten that they had work to do. She had even threatened him with the term 'social butterfly.'
The dungeons had, thankfully, dispersed all the strangeness of the morning, and brought out some 's' words Hermione definitely liked when it came to Snape. Sneering and Snape. Sinister and Snape. Even, when she had practiced her own particular method of driving him mad, almost seductive and Snape (but alas not quite, she sighed inwardly).
The day had taken a new turn when a visitor had appeared at the door an hour before dinner. Hermione hadn't even noticed the new presence until a pair of hands had blocked her vision and a gravelly voice had whispered, 'Guess who?' Unfortunately, Snape had made an exit from the store room at the precise moment Hermione had turned around to hug Sirius Black, who was on a brief visit to Dumbledore for the afternoon. Sirius's reaction had been his usual enthusiastic returned hug: Snape's had been a frosty glare that had turned the rather mild atmosphere in the dungeons to a bitter cold.
After a short conversation with Sirius, who explained he would be back in a week or so to finish his talks with Dumbledore and would see her at dinner anyway, the two researchers had again been left alone in the dungeons, the atmosphere somewhat more tense than that before their visitor. A rigid silence on Snape's part had begun to irk Hermione, particularly when it began to interfere with the working atmosphere that had tentatively developed between the two of them. It had given her time to ponder over what had happened the night before. If she really had attacked and passionately kissed him, as she thought she had, then why in the seven hells hadn't the man mentioned it? Though her memory was foggy, she didn't remember him resisting too much. Surely he wasn't pretending today that he hadn't liked it? The thought stirred Hermione's irritation even more.
Eventually she had brushed her hands of her work, informed Snape calmly that he could use the potion to lubricate the pole he was sitting on if it would make the look on his face go away, and went up to dinner.
She'd got to the stairs leading from the dungeon before he'd called her back. Needless to say, he had not taken the comment well. His lecture on proper respect had only irritated her more and the argument had ended with her throwing her hands up in the air and storming away.
All in all, it had been quite satisfying. Shouting and Snape was a strangely gratifying situation. Silent Snape, without the essential touch of sinister Snape, was just no fun. He was just Snape giving someone the silent treatment.
Fighting with Snape had been a rather soothing ending to a troubled day, Hermione thought as she ran her hand over the cool stone of her windowsill. Enjoying those more difficult aspects of Snape may have made her a masochist, but it also made her comfortable. In the wizard world, she had quickly learnt to be uncomfortable when people were behaving against their natures; after all, it was generally what the Dark asked people to do for power. Besides, after all these years, she doubted she could cope with a Snape that was able to walk in the sun without burning to ashes.
She always had liked vampires.
With a sigh, she walked over to her bed and began to undress, frowning slightly as she did so. Things became so very complicated around Snape. As far as she could see, there were only a few ways to deal with him, and there was definitely one that stood out from the others. She just hoped it was the right one for her.
Because Hermione had made a decision, and it was one that made being around a kind, considerate Severus Snape all the harder.
She walked over to her desk and sat, taking out a quill and parchment. It had taken her a long time to realise what she wanted to do, but now that she had, it felt like a huge pressure pressing down on her had been blown away. There was a certain sort of calm, even though there was at least as much nervousness. She was sure, however, that she had made the right decision.
Nodding her head firmly, she began to write. Like every other aspect of her life, this new decision needed research.
***
The weekend preceding her birthday, the date for her visit with Harry, Ron and Ginny, arrived quite soon for a impatient and grateful Hermione. As the weekend of her visit approached, she had noticed Snape becoming more and more distant, with something strange in his glance at her, and this made her want to leave even more. The announcement that Sirius Black would be making a visit to Hogwarts to help Dumbledore with some strategising didn't help any; Snape had watched Hermione very carefully whenever the topic of his schoolyard foe came up, making her even more self-conscious. The visit was a blessing, all things considered, she thought as she walked down the path to Hogsmeade, the impression of a very quiet Snape sitting in the dungeon of her mind.
She arrived at Ron and Ginny's at the precise time they had requested, and received the hugs of her friends with a smile. Harry and Ron did their usual bit of jeering at how old she was getting, and Ginny presented her with a very thoughtful present that the boys had obviously had no part in choosing, unless they had suddenly developed a taste in eighteenth century romance poetry and hair clips.
The four of them then moved on to a restaurant where Hermione picked at her food, and a nightclub where she watched the other three dance away until the wee hours of the morning. Though she did her best to put on a display of enjoyment, she couldn't put aside her impatience to have the evening over. She needed, for the first time in her life, to have a heart to heart with Ginny.
Finally, they headed back to the flat, sitting drinking and chatting until the boys went to bed. Ginny, who seemed to have sensed that a girly chat was on the cards, had been most helpful in ensuring the boys time in slumberland.
This left the two girls sitting on the lounge room floor, a bottle of tequila between them and the light from a single lamp and a few glowing candles giving the room an intimate feel which didn't help Hermione one bit. She bit her lip, sensing Ginny sitting with almost predatorial attention across from her.
'Ginny, if I tell you something, will you promise not to talk about it with anyone?' she asked. 'No matter how... weird it is,' she added as Ginny raised her eyebrows, 'and that means no hinting to the boys that you know something that they don't, or smiling secretively, or...'
Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Hermione, I know I may look like a bit of a ditz, but trust me: as the only daughter in my family there's no way I would have survived if I couldn't keep things to myself.'
Hermione nodded. 'Okay. Sorry. It's just, well, this is really...' Words failed her. Now that she was actually trying to tell someone about it all, it really did sound too strange to believe.
Ginny reached over and poured them out each a shot of tequila, encouraging Hermione to drink and patting her on the back as she coughed at the harsh spirits.
'Now, let me make this easier for you,' Ginny said solemnly. 'You're a lesbian, aren't you?'
Hermione's eyes widened, and she coughed harder. 'What? No! Why?'
Her friend put her hand over her mouth and giggled. 'Sorry. It wasn't like I thought you were coming on to me or anything. It's just that I've had this conversation with a few of my friends lately. I thought I'd make it a bit easier for you. I know how hard it can be to come out of the closet. You know, you haven't really had any boyfriends, at least not at school...' She spread her hands and shrugged. 'Sorry. You were saying?'
Hermione frowned. 'Actually, I guess what I want to talk about kind of has something to do with that. The no-boyfriend thing.' Ginny nodded encouragingly, and Hermione took a deep breath. This was more difficult than she had imagined - at least the other witches had forced the admission out of her.
'Well,' she began. 'There's this guy. And I sort of - like him.'
'Ooh,' Ginny said, rubbing her hands together. 'Great. Who is he? How long have you been together? Come on, I want all the goss.'
'It's not like that,' Hermione said, panicking. 'I don't *like* like him. I just, sort of, like him.'
The girl across from her looked at her quizzically. 'Uh-huh. So what's the deal?'
Hermione frowned in thought for a second, trying to think of how to put it. 'I'm really attracted to him. I can't stop thinking about him, or not just him, but his voice, or his hands. It's so *frustrating.*' She clenched her hands briefly, and looked up to see Ginny grinning at her.
'Don't know the feeling at all,' Ginny said.
'Neither do I,' Hermione muttered wryly. Ginny gave her a confused look.
'So have you done anything about it?'
'Not exactly.' Hermione looked down. She supposed they had, but at the same time they hadn't. 'It's complicated.'
'Well, you're helpful,' Ginny said. 'Does he know or not?'
Even that question had its own complications. 'I - I don't know. He- well, I guess I did, too - we kissed.'
'Then he knows. A kiss is a pretty good indicator.'
'But he can't know!' Frustration got the better of her. 'He can't possibly know what he's been putting me through! For the whole school year- all year we've been circling around each other - although some times it feels like it's just me circling him - ugh!'
Ginny's eyes lit up. 'He's at school? A student? You naughty girl.'
Hermione looked at Ginny in surprise. 'I would never behave so inappropriately with a student.'
Ginny waved her hand. 'Sorry. Again. Okay, so he's not a student. Hmm. You're not making this easy. One of the professors at your college?'
'Uh...' Hermione bit her lip. 'Not at *college*, no.' Ginny's eyes narrowed.
'Who, then? Someone in Hogsmeade?'
Hermione sighed. Obviously, this was not meant to be easy. 'No. Professor Snape. Severus Snape. From Hogwarts.' She waited for the furious shout of surprise, but none came. When she looked over at Ginny, she was surprised to see the other girl nodding her head slowly.
'That makes sense. He's a bit dark and brooding, but he's certainly intelligent enough to catch your interest.'
Hermione gaped. 'You're not completely disgusted?'
Ginny shook her head. 'Not at all. In fact, I sort of had a thing for Snape when I was going through one of my dark periods at school. I used to fantasise that I'd tied him up to a table and tortured him with feathers and silk and strategic use of whips until he-' Ginny caught Hermione's shocked look, and shrugged. 'Well, you know how it was. That wasn't half as bad as what I used to think about Lucius Malfoy.'
Hermione stared at her friend for a few moments, then sighed. 'I know that I'm going to think better of this, but my curiosity has got the better of me. What, exactly, with Lucius Malfoy...?'
'Pretty much the same thing, only I'd planned to get him to the point of breaking and leave him there, enormously frustrated.'
Hermione closed her eyes to blot out that image, and Ginny continued. 'So, you and Professor Snape? Have you done anything else other than kiss him?'
'Yes. No. Sort of... it's complicated,' Hermione said, squeezing her eyes even more tightly closed as she realised how much she was rambling. 'He gave me love bites on my neck, and I think I scratched him-'
'While you were kissing?'
'No, that was earlier. These were from the dreams-although I suppose I can't talk about that,' Hermione mused. 'It's sort of classified.'
Ginny raised an eyebrow. 'You and Snape dream about each other and it's been classified? What the hell are you doing in those dreams?'
Reaching out to play with her shot glass, Hermione grinned. 'Lots.' Ginny grinned back.
'So you've kissed, and he's somehow given you a love bite or two. What's next?'
'I want to sleep with him.' Hermione said it with determination. Ginny raised her eyebrows and nodded slowly. 'I need help.' Ginny gave her a mischievous look, and Hermione's lips quirked. 'Not in that way. I need advice.'
Her companion nodded again and poured them out each another shot. 'What do you need to know?'
Picking up her drink and sipping this time, Hermione thought for a moment. 'I need to seduce him. I don't know how.'
'Hmm,' Ginny said, downing her drink. 'Seduction's pretty easy, really. Just a case of wearing the right skirt, sending the right signals. Get him into a corner and then just leap on him.'
'Gin, I don't think that would work with Severus Snape, do you?' Hermione looked at the younger girl satirically.
'Why not?' Ginny asked. 'He's human, isn't he?' Hermione shook her head.
'It isn't that simple. If I start making moves on him he's likely to call me a silly little girl and send me away. He has a habit of doing that.'
Ginny frowned. 'Well, that makes it difficult. How about dinner?'
Hermione looked at her. 'We eat in the great hall, remember?'
'Ah.' Ginny narrowed her eyes in thought. 'It doesn't prevent you from asking him out to dinner, though?'
'No...' Hermione said, hesitantly. 'Actually, he might even do that if I asked. But it would feel wrong. He's not... a 'dating' person. I can't imagine he'd want to parade his personal life in that way. I'm not sure *I'd* want to. It could just make things more awkward.'
'Ah. You want straight seduction.'
Hermione nodded. She couldn't have put it better herself.
'Well,' Ginny began, shifting position, 'there are plenty of ways to seduce someone. It really depends on the person, and how much they want to be seduced. Escalating looks and touches, a drink after work, some quiet time together. Maybe you could get the house elves to prepare a meal for the two of you in your rooms- I hear the private rooms in Hogwarts are pretty swanky.'
'I'm not sure he'd go for that,' Hermione said. 'I could organise some research in my rooms, though...' She caught Ginny's eye, and they both giggled.
'This is insane,' Ginny said. 'Here are Hermione and Ginny, plotting how to lose Hermione's virginity to Professor Snape.' That set them both off again.
'Here's to me having sex with Snape,' Hermione said, raising her glass. This made Ginny fall over, giggling. Hermione shook her head at her friend, knowing that they were probably a little too inebriated to seriously discuss the issue. With a shrug, she helped Ginny up and the two retired for the night, making bad puns until they fell asleep.
***
Not too terribly far away, a small, dark meeting was breaking up. Snape finished washing his hands in the stone sink of the room he had been kept in for the last seven hours, and exited out to the apparating ground. Tomorrow was Sunday; perhaps even Lucifer could have a day of rest.