10
"Rise, Severusss," the Dark Lord's hissing voice reached his ears and carefully, Snape lifted himself to a standing position. They were alone in his office, Lord Voldemort had become the unofficial Minister of Magic. His Death Eaters and sympathizers have already insidiously seated themselves in almost every department and branch of government. Severus himself had a rather lofty title as Magistrate something or other, not that he cared. The only pleasure he derived was the knowledge that the Dark Lord had unwittingly funded the very resistance against him.
"My Lord, you summoned me?" Snape replied with a delicate arch of his brow. The why was implied of course as one could not truly question Voldemort without invoking his ire. Everything had to be phrased just so and unfortunately not many Death Eaters were bright enough to catch onto that fact. But not Severus, he was a very fast learner.
Lord Voldemort seemed to be in a fair mood. Not angry, but certainly not too upset either, Snape observed. There was a chance he could escape this summons unharmed and frankly, he was quite looking forward to the delicious witch waiting for him at home. "My gift, the little mudblood, how is she?"
For a second something inside Severus seized and he wondered if the Dark Lord managed to penetrate his rather impregnable shields in his mind. He kept his face impassive, his eyes showing zero signs of his inner turmoil. "My slave is as I would expect any gift from you would be: satisfactory."
Now Voldemort laughed, although it was closer to a mad cackle coming from him. Severus fought a sneer as the sound grated on his nerves. "Good, good. I do hope you'll bring your little slave to our ball next month. Winthrop suggested a slave swap and others are rather keen on a night playing with other people's toys."
Bile rose in his throat at the thought of sharing his witch with anyone, let alone a gang of Death Eaters but he must keep up pretenses. "As you wish, my Lord," Snape drawled, not trusting himself to say anything else.
The temperature in the room seemed to change as Lord Voldemort allowed more of his annoyance to shine through. "That, unfortunately, is not the sole purpose I have summoned you here Severus. Malfoy is becoming less and less successful in his role as Ambassador. True, he did a decent job with the French but his communication with the Americans is piss poor. After the ball I want you to take charge. And I will not tolerate failure, even from you Severus. Is that clear?"
"Indeed my Lord, I will not fail you," Severus responded, playing the ever dutiful servant. Once he was dismissed he bowed low and disapparated before the Dark Lord could change his mind about letting him go. When he returned to his estate he noticed immediately that she had waited for him. A satin robe tied hastily around her waist, dark honey curls in a wild halo around her mature, feminine face and whiskey eyes, wet with worry.
"Thank goodness you're back!" She exclaimed and he could practically feel her relief washing over her. His heart twisted as she raced into his arms. "Did he hurt you?" Her voice was muffled due to her face buried in his chest.
Severus smiled softly at her concern. When was the last time, indeed if ever- that someone was truly concerned about him? Dumbledore didn't count. So much of his concern was tied to his ability to continue as a spy. Rarely did it ever stem from anything else. "No. He simply wished to give me a new mission. Which reminds me that our time is winding up. Next week is the ball and we must be prepared. I have a plan in place but the core of it involves your brilliance. Are you ready?"
"Absolutely."
It was hard to believe that this man was hers. Even now, with his strong hold on her waist, her mind kept thinking it was somehow unreal. And then he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead and everything felt much more grounded. As if he could sense that she needed reassurance. She tilted her head up, one hand reaching for his cheek. It was rough with the faintest hint of stubble. Remarkably, it suited him and with his long locks, she thought he looked even more like the character of a romantic novel. "So beautiful…."
A snort from him pulled Hermione from her trance. "Only you, my dear, would think that," Severus purred, kissing her gently as he pulled away. "I wish….." He paused, a pained expression marred his features, "Would you have ever come to me on your own? If things were different, and you met me months later at a coffee shop….."
His words were nonsensical at first, but Hermione knew what he was asking. She smoothed out the lines on his face, not wanting to see him so distressed. It was easy to assume that circumstances alone brought her to Severus. That had they won the battle at Hogwarts, this….whatever it was, never would have happened. And he would be a distant memory. Except Hermione could remember her crush. And that's why his supposed betrayal had hurt her heart so much. And then those months in his servitude and she still found herself desiring him…. "Yes, I would have come to you," she decided. "Nervous, and just a tad bit excited. My eyes are raking in your form. You surprise me because of your muggle clothing and yet, you are undeniably just as handsome and imposing as you were in the classroom."
Severus smirked, an elegant brow arching as he caught on to her little game. She blushed, assuming he'd think her silly, but was pleased to find he was going along with it. "And how long, Hermione, until your Gryffindor brashness wins out and you approach me?" He asked, his dark eyes holding a spark of….something.
"Too long, you're about to get up. I rush forward and slip on a spilled latte," she added, a soft smile.
Chuckling, Severus drew her close and she could feel the sound rumbling from deep within his chest. "My arms snake around your slim waist, protecting you from the impact with the floor. 'Quite an entrance, Miss Granger."
Deep into the story, Hermione breathes, "It's not exactly what I had planned…" A blush brightening her cheeks. "I meant to simply walk over and say hello."
"I tighten my grip, and pull you to an upright position," Severus narrated. "Leaning in closer, our gazes locked as we drink in each other. My heart is racing as the reality of a brilliant, gorgeous, young witch is pressed against me sinks in. You aren't moving away and your radiant smile invites me to say something foolish like, 'I think I prefer this better."
No words were spoken after that due to Hermione snogging him senseless. In fact, the plans for Voldemort's demise were put on the back burner completely as the lovers regaled each other with stories and shared a host of passionate embraces.
