Hermione stood at the stained glass door of Snape's new home.

He'd sold Spinner's End and escaped into the wilds of Cumbria, to a sprawling, pale-bricked house built by a Victorian tea merchant. Yes, she'd been nosy…and well, money stretched well in the far north west of England. He'd put his award from his Order of Merlin, First Class to good use.

Pulling in her courage, she rang the bell and the distant jangling sound chased the knots in her belly.

She counted her heart beats, reaching twenty five before there was the creak of an inner door. Wards chased around the seams of the outer door and she stopped herself from twisting her hands together. A direct question. He could say yes or no and then she could run away and die of mortification. And her list of eligible wizards with whom she could sleep would come into play. The sourness of that thought raced through her. Damn it, she wanted this wizard.

And…there he stood. Tall and broad shouldered and dressed in full black from head to toe. His hair was a loose and shining black curtain, curling against his shoulders. He was as pale as ever, but it was a smooth, alabaster sheen rather than something sallow and sickly. Black eyes found her.

"Miss Granger."

His voice curled around her name, dark and sure. And, oh gods, he had to say yes to her offer.

"Sir, I have a proposition for you."

"Do you?"

She jerked a nod. He was not inviting her in. That was fine. There was no one around to overhear her conversation…and it would make for a quicker get away. Just a run down the steps, over the sweep of the long drive…and away in a flick of magic

Hermione lifted her shoulders. In for a penny… "I believe that you know the gift a virgin can bestow."

A black eyebrow arched and there was a definite shine to his endless eyes. He knew. He definitely knew. "And what gift would that be, Miss Granger?" His gaze slid over her, cool and assessing. "And I would have thought that a certain Weasley would have chased that…gift."

"Chased but not caught."

His firm lips twitched up at the corner. "Indeed."

He hadn't kicked her off his property. There was hope. She clung to it. "I propose an…exchange. You relieve me of my virginity and your nature, your strong magical core, opens up the power of my own magic. Said act then adds a shine, hones your magic in return." Her heart was pounding and she was certain her face was quite red.

"And you would choose me for this honour?"

He leant against the door frame, his arms crossed, indolent and so effortlessly sexy her mouth was drying. She'd caught snatches of this man, this wizard down through the years. She thought, well, she thought she'd been mad to have a crush on the man. But…had he always been this way? Had it hidden away as he played the part of their hated professor? Was this truly Severus Snape?

"You are an incredibly powerful wizard, sir. And —as you obviously know— the more powerful the wizard as a virgin's first…lover," she stumbled over the word, feeling stupid and gauche, "the more my magic will evolve." She pulled in a breath. "I think you followed this path, sir."

"Did I?"

It was a dark rumble and he narrowed his eyes on her.

"Where did you..stumble across this information, Miss Granger?"

"A…a book. A Byzantine codex in Grimmauld Place."

He was silent for a long moment, his gaze simply fixed on her. An endless black that revealed nothing of what he was thinking.

"What is your experience?"

She blinked. Was he…was he considering…? Was he…agreeing? Gods…gods. "Umm, I…"

She was discussing her sexual history —or lack thereof— on his doorstep. It was mortifying. But she could hardly ask to go inside and sit and be comfortable. That would be more strange. This was a transaction. An exchange. Nothing more. Nothing.

"I have kissed to boys. Two wizards."

And wasn't that woeful for a young woman of nineteen?

"Krum and Weasley Six?"

"Weasley…" She pressed her fingers to her mouth to stop a burst of strained laughter escaping. She nodded. "Yes."

"Just kisses? How aroused were you? How aroused were they?"

Oh great Merlin and all his devil friends. What did this have to do with him having sex with her?

"With every touch, magic flows between us."

He unfolded his arms with slow grace and reached out a hand. One long finger traced along her jaw, from the hinge to point of her chin. A glide of air, of sensation, of warmth and the tingle of…something chasing deep, deep into her flesh. Her lips parted and she stared up at him, her heart a flurry of wild beats and the beginning of an old ache there in her belly.

"You feel that. The opening of magic, one to the other. Now think back. With those boys…"

"Nothing. Nothing like that."

Heat flooded her face at that admission. But it was true. Kissing Victor and Ron had been…nice. Sort of. Perhaps. Mainly it'd wet and handsy. Her thoughts were racing. How could it be a secret? This sharing of powers, when a simple touch from him had…bloomed within her.

"Why? Why do people say it doesn't matter, when you just…and I just…"

His lips quirked up, a dark and delicious smile that snatched at those reawakened aches. "Most magical beings are average, Miss Granger. Bland. They can hardly feel the course of their magic in their flesh. This…exchange is meant only for a witch or wizard of unique magical strength." His black eyes gleamed. "Why else would the book seek you out?"

"Seek…seek me out?"

"Indeed," he stepped aside and waved her into his light-filled hall. "The book found me at seventeen."

"Found…?"

"Come inside." His large hand was at her spine, the heat of his fingertips burning through the thin cotton of her shirt. His mouth dipped to her ear and a shiver raced over her skin. "I believe there is much we need to discuss…Hermione."