A/N: Hey everybody! I've started updating my Love Actually sequel, and I think I owe it to the people who like this fic, (which still needs a title, erg, gotta work on that) to update again. I know; it's been FOREVER. But here you go anyway. I also found out I made myself laugh when I went back and reread it.

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The next day brought much in the way of embarrassment and anger and confusion for Hermione Granger. She could not believe how her dare had backfired so horribly. Oh, Harry and Ron will pay dearly for this. She was so furious with them; she could feel crackling fire in her stomach. She was sure she would never live another day by the way things went the previous day, but miraculously she walked free. Only her pride and confidence was injured that day. She had spent the entire night convincing herself that the bastard forced himself on her and wouldn't let go of her, and she had to comply or otherwise suffocate. Hermione had thoroughly complied a logical explanation of everything. She had had to pull him to the couch because she had to sit down, or she'd faint, and Snape took that the wrong way and ended up practically on top of her. She shuddered at the image. And her putting her arms around him? So she could keep herself from falling, of course. All this she was sure of, and if there was any doubt betraying her in the back of her mind, she shoved it away forcefully.

Getting dressed quickly, she grabbed her book bag and made her way to the Great Hall, hoping to get there quickly enough so she could sit somewhere away from Harry and Ron. She really did not feel like speaking to them right now. Wait. Scratch that. She didn't feel like speaking to them ever again.

"Hermione! Wait up!" two familiar voices yelled behind her, which she chose to ignore and walked even faster. Unfortunately, Harry and Ron were both very fast, especially if they were running deadbolt towards her. She heard them coming up behind her and deftly sidestepped them as they ran past. Their momentum carried past her and straight into none other than Draco Malfoy and his cronies.

"Potter! Weasel! Watch where you're bloody going!" Draco hissed, shoving them off of him. The students around them began to stop and watch, sensing a fight.

"Sorry, Malfoy, didn't see you there," Harry replied darkly.

"Then you have no use of these, Potter," Draco snapped, and grabbed Harry's glasses from his face and threw them towards the wall. Harry punched Draco square in the jaw and waited for the smash of glass. Ron ducked a swing from Goyle and slammed into Crabbe's stomach, knocking all three of them down.

Harry's glasses came floating gracefully across the air in front of his face to rest back on top of his nose. Before he and any of the other students surrounding them knew what was going on, an arm snaked around his and Ron's and yanked them away, leaving the piled Crabbe and Goyle and Draco lying there with his mouth bleeding steadily and the huge crowd of alarmed students.

Harry and Ron where pulled into the nearest door, which happened to lead to the girl's bathroom. Once in they were slammed against the wall and both alternately slapped on the face.

"What do you think you were doing!" Hermione yelled at them both, causing more shock to creep onto their faces. They had no answer, especially when a very angry young woman was yelling at them and banning all escape.

"Mione…" Ron started.

"Don't you 'Mione' me! You both are going to pay for what you did!"

"Sorry Hermione," Harry said sheepishly.

"You're not going to tell on us are you?" Ron asked.

"I won't, but you can be sure that Malfoy will," she replied curtly.

"How was the dare, Hermione?" Harry asked, changing the subject. Hermione looked at him as though she could smite him on the spot with her fiery gaze, which caused Harry to cower slightly.

"Does that mean you won't tell us?" Ron asked sheepishly.

"To hell with both of you! Do you have any idea what I went through?" she shouted at them, looking very foreboding, but it was very comical. Her tall friends smiled at her pathetic attempt to look intimidating.

"No, Mione, we don't. Could you please inform us of your devastating account?" Ron smiled playfully. Hermione raised a foot as if to kick him, but stopped midway and gave up. She was red in the face and biting her lip; they could tell she was thinking very hard about something. Finally, she sighed deeply.

"It completely backfired." Harry and Ron looked at each other, now very concerned and confused. What could have gone wrong?

"What do you mean?" Ron asked. "The handcuffs worked didn't they?"

"Oh yeah, they 'worked' all right," she spat out angrily. "Tell me, Ron, did you know why George and Fred gave you those handcuffs and their real use?"

"I dunno; I just thought they were some Muggle thing they picked up from Dad."

"Yes, but do you forget that your brothers like to play with things?" she glowered.

"Oh," was all Ron could say to that.

"You think they did something to the handcuffs?" Harry asked, a bit worried.

"Oh, nothing. They just made it into what they called a 'Love Chain', according to what Dumbledore found out from them, so you couldn't get them off unless you...kissed...the…other…person…" she gritted out angrily, turning red again. Harry and Ron said nothing for almost a full minute, staring at her, trying to compensate for their exploding brains, which were attempting to process all of that information; some of it very strange, scary, and downright wrong.

"You…you, had to…" Ron spluttered.

"Kiss him, yes. I had to kiss…that-"

"Horrible snarky evil bastard!" Harry spat out, finishing her sentence. She angrily stomped out of the girl's bathroom, with Harry and Ron following close behind her. Without warning Harry tackled Hermione and squeezed her in a tight embrace, with Ron following suit, so Hermione was now sandwiched in between.

"We're so sorry, Mione," Ron said sympathetically. Hermione only gasped.

"Well, well, well," simpered a silky voice from behind them. "My goodness, Miss Granger. You certainly have enough admirers to keep you occupied I dare say." Ron and Harry immediately let go of her, leaving her gasping for air, and stood protectively in front of her, blocking Snape's way to Hermione.

"Good evening, sir," Harry answered carefully. Snape straightened to his full height, with was still substantially more Harry, but not as much as it used to be.

"I see Miss Granger is incapable of defending herself, so she allows her love-sick pets to do her work. Very clever. Pity it won't work," Snape sneered.

"I am capable of handling my own problems and life, Professor," Hermione interrupted boldly, pushing her way in front of her friends to face him.

"Then I suppose you can also handle detention with me for an undetermined length of time with considerable…ease? Am I right, Miss Granger?" Snape replied coolly. Harry and Ron blanched; Hermione inwardly swore.

"Without a doubt in my mind, Professor," Hermione answered coolly, her face betraying nothing; she hoped. "In the meantime, Professor, you should stay away from, well, lets say, anything that might, tie you up. You know what I mean, don't you sir?" Hermione smiled prettily, while color flushed Snape's cheeks considerably. Harry and Ron couldn't help but snigger slightly.

"Do not cross me, Miss Granger, or you will sorely regret it," Snape replied, not as threatening as he'd hoped. But after all, how could one be threatening when your pale face suddenly blooms into a very seeming shade of pink? And without another word, Snape stalked away, his robes billowing after him.

"That was…interesting," Harry stated after a moment.

"Hermione, I still can't believe you had to-"

"I know what I had to do Ron! I was the one who had to be the receiving end of it, not you!" Hermione interrupted dejectedly.

"Mione?" Harry began.

"What!"

"Was it bad?" Hermione stared at him for a second, not sure what he meant.

"You don't need to ask her, Harry. You can just tell right off the bat that it was probably the same as kissing Draco's ass," Ron interjected. Harry caught on.

"Yuck. He probably had horrible breath too, and his lips were probably all cracked, and he probably didn't even know what he was doing. I mean, seriously, he probably has never kissed any woman before except his own mother!" Harry cringed, and this caused Ron and Harry to burst out laughing.

"Cut it out!" Hermione shouted suddenly. They abruptly stopped laughing.

"Why are you defending him?" Ron seethed. "Are you insane?" Harry nodded.

"No! You just have no right to say those things!" Hermione argued.

"Oh? So I guess you are going to tell us that he was the greatest you've ever had and he swept you off your feet?" Harry accused her teasingly. But instead of laughing with him, she blushed profusely.

"Are you saying-" Ron started, flabbergasted.

"I don't want to talk about it," she answered simply.

"Hermione…" they chided her in unison.

"I don't want to talk about it!" she stuttered quickly, and started walking again. They silently followed behind her, and got the point when she pointedly sat next to Neville and Ginny. Harry shrugged it off; he frankly wanted to never have to think about what they just heard ever again, for it was too wrong for words. But Ron, usually very enthusiastic about food, was distracted and only nibbled.

Long in the running had been Ron's crush on Hermione. Of course, he had never really acted upon, suspecting that their arguments over the years were a clear indicator that it would not work. Plus, he could just tell, with a slightly jealous air, that Harry had a better relationship with Hermione. It had been that way from the very beginning when they first met. And with all these things in mind, Ron was quite hopeless of ever gaining Hermione's interest.

But this new information, the perpetual failure of their dare for Hermione, wronged his poor innocent mind, made him feel very guilty, and a very strange feeling of jealousy? He didn't know why the green monster was seeping into his mind and poisoning his thoughts and feelings. But yet there it was, and the very idea that he was jealous of the Potions Professor scared him. But seeing Hermione blush like that, when Harry had joked about Snape "sweeping" her off her feet… He didn't know whether to just dismiss it as her embarrassment of the whole matter altogether, or if she was actually agreeing and did not want to actually admit that she liked kissing Snape. Nor did he know whether to go over and punch Snape or throw up. Either way, the situation was a lot for him to handle. How Harry was handling this he had no idea. Ron had always admired Harry, and thought, as he glanced over at Harry laughing with Ginny about something, that if he could conceal what he felt, or just block it, he could too.

Harry smiled as Ron looked over at him, and gave a small wave when he saw Ron was distracted. Ron snapped out of his reverie and started to tuck in. That's more like it, Harry thought to himself. He had noticed how quiet Ron was, and no doubt this whole dare matter was really making him think. Harry knew without a doubt that Ron really liked her; but he was going to kill himself if he didn't do anything about it. It was their seventh year, literally Ron's last chance to try to reconcile his past with Hermione and start something anew, possibly a relationship beyond the boundaries of "best friend". But Ron had been turned off and hurt considerably when she had gone to the Yule Ball back in fourth year with Victor Krum. Harry also was aware that Ron was insanely, (what he could tell, which was a lot) jealous ofhim and Hermione, who seemed to get along famously, who everyone thought would be together in due time. Harry supposed that they did have a good relationship, but the point was that he wanted to keep it that way. In no way was he romantically interested in Hermione; he might have been several years ago, but Hermione was not the girl that occupied his mind at the moment. He hoped that Ron would figure this out on his own, and hopefully do something about it, or realize that what he felt was not really genuine, and let it go. Feeling he had been thinking too much, and about something other than what he really needed to sort through, that thing being Hermione and her strange dare "experience", Harry turned back to Ginny to talk about Quidditch, something he knew they could both talk about and would take his mind off of Hermione's dare and Ron's predicament.

-

Snape was not looking forward to having to give detention with Hermione multiple times, but he felt revenge was within his grasp, and if he couldn't box Dumbledore over the head, he would proceed to make Hermione's life miserable by making her serve detention with him. Of course, he felt like while he made her do lots of work, he wanted to test her true potion-making ability. He was curious about the bounds of her knowledge, and, her skill of using that knowledge and applying it to actual potion making. The latter he was sure was meager and pathetic. He was also convinced that she would do everything in her power to avoid him while doing the detentions, of which he was eternally grateful. He wanted nothing but to just bark orders to her and give the occasional criticism and watch the show. No other kind of communication besides him shouting commands and her scurrying around, (which he knew she would do indefinitely, being a good student in her very blood and impossible to avoid) obeying. He supposed he could just have her make all the potions he needed to restock for Madame Pomfrey and his own private stores. Would save him some work. One thing not very many people knew about Professor Snape was the fact that he could, he would rather be lazy and lax about anything related to students (except making them miserable) and spend his time doing things he thought were much more productive and enjoyable for his part.

This then reminded of the matter and way of how he became Potions Professor, which caused to grimace at the memory. Mainly, it was because Dumbledore wanted him under his fingertips, to manipulate and watch while he spied for the Light. He was sure that in Dumbledore's deranged mind, he was some kind of son to him, in a very twisted and weird way, of which he did not welcome, and never would. But he supposed if he had not been hired, he would have been still on the Dark Side, moving up to conjure potions of devastating proportions for the Dark Lord, as well as his main duties as interrogator of prisoners and captured people. Once again, he grimaced as even more horrible memories of his past flooded in without merit and his wanting. He angrily chucked his book that he was reading across the room, where it thudded against the wall and landed conveniently on the top of the bookshelf, causing him to smirk with satisfaction. He decided he'd return to those dratted essays that were waiting on his desk. He had, obviously, assigned an essay the first essay for his lovely NEWT students, (yeah, lovely my ass...) two parchments long discussing the properties of wormwood and the most advanced uses for it in healing potions, which he knew for a fact was barely discussed in their NEWT Potions book.

Vainly trying to be enthusiastic about grading the essays, he brought over his candle to his desk (he had only one candle lit in his office, giving off just barely enough dim light to see by) and sat down and picked up his quill and red ink vial, set the vial down to his left, and held onto the quill as he gazed at the essay at the top of the pile. He dropped his quill, which fell unceremoniously to the floor under his desk, and he swore out loud. The first essay on top was none other than Miss Granger's, written in her very neat and looping letters. Why must I be tortured so? He muttered darkly to himself.

Seeing her paper had ultimately sent his thoughts in a whirlwind of visions of the previous day. The handcuffs, and the kiss… All of it came flooding back, when he had previously shoved into the back of his mind next to all his other memories that he wanted to forget. Except, this one came back, and in full force, so vivid Snape had to check the room to make sure that Miss Granger was really not in the room. He could not escape these thoughts, so he had no choice but to dwell over them until he could figure out what to do with them.

First of all, the kiss was nothing he had expected. After all, Miss Granger was only, what…seventeen? Maybe eighteen? Either way, she was young, hormonal, emotional, and strangely capable of kissing. She seemed to know what she was doing, despite being surprised. He had somewhat come upon her without warning; he had just wanted to get it over with. No you didn't, stop kidding yourself, you stupid bastard. You knew the handcuffs were gone after less than ten seconds. How else could you have put your right arm around her waist without twisting her arm? He silently berated himself and realized that they had kissed for almost two minutes after the handcuffs were gone. Now, why had he not just pulled away once he knew they were gone? Because you hadn't kissed a woman in years, and you, being a needy bastard, decided you'd take advantage of the situation and reap of the perk that came with it: a make-out session with a young woman. He slammed his fist on his desk in frustration. Why had he done that? He really was a needy bastard, and apparently a goddamn desperate one at that, prolonging a kiss with a student, a Muggleborn, named Hermione Granger, whom he despised with a passion. But what kind of passion was he talking himself into? He'd never married, of course, and of course he had been intimate with a couple women from time to time in his younger years, with all having a bad outcome or simply because he was supposed to seduce them for information. So here he was, a much older man, kissing a student roughly twenty-four hours ago, longer than necessary.

Then today, when he came upon the Muggleborn herself being squished to death (he wished) by Potter and Weasley, Hermione had made a very suggestive and provocative comment about him staying away from things that might tie him up; she was definitely talking about the handcuff incident from the day before, and before he could compose himself, he had blushed, he was sure. That, in itself, was more embarrassing than Dumbledore's interruption of their kiss, for he had been quite, occupied, and had forgotten there was someone else in the room. Oh, she would pay for that dearly. If he was unsure or doubted anything else he thought or did in the past twenty-four hours, the one thing he was sure of was that she would pay.

Sighing deeply, he tried to calm his racing heart, which he hadn't realized was beating so fast, and stripped off his outer robes down to his shirt and pants, because for some reason he was hot and somewhat sweaty. Wiping his forehead, he found his whole face was flushed. Cursing, he picked up his quill again and began to read Hermione's essay, hoping he could find something wrong and give her a lower grade. He didn't, and angrily raked an E out on the top of the paper and practically threw the essay on the floor. Shaking his head to clear his mind of Miss Granger, he moved on to the next essay, happily scrolling a D on the top of it, feeling slightly better. No more thoughts of Miss Granger. He smirked. That was the way it should be.

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A/N: Freaking crap! About 3,400 words long, not including the author notes! It has taken me days to write this, and I hope nobody falls asleep while reading it! Yes, for the HP/HG shippies, I'm sorry. For the RW/HG shippies, nothing but Ron anguish. For the HG/SS shippies, ROCK ON! FYI-See if you guys can guess what "other woman" Harry has on his mind, and DON'T forget to make some title suggestions! Anyway, if you make your way through without nodding off, please review!