Chapter 41: In Which Inspiration Strikes
Hermione walked in the front door carrying a very large bag. As soon as Snape saw the name on it, he knew what it was. She kissed him on the forehead and headed up to his, he shook his head, our bedroom.
It was rapidly becoming their bedroom. A box of books here, a few outfits there, her pillows and blankets had all migrated to his home. More followed them each day. He had already expanded the closet and the cabinet in the bathroom. Likewise the kitchen was undergoing a similar metamorphosis. She had a favourite cast iron fry pan and two chef's knives she didn't want to work without. Her selection of hand mixed curry powders, coffees, and spice rubs all joined his considerable collection.
He followed her up to their room. "Did you get your graduation ball gown?"
She was carefully hanging it in the closet. "Yes."
"Can I see it?"
"That depends?"
He looked amused. "Depends?"
"On if you are going to the ball with me. If you are, you'll see it Tuesday night, on me. If not, then I'll show it to you now."
His inclination was to skip the ball. He didn't relish running into Longbottom or, for that matter, most of the rest of the Hogwarts staff. As he was getting ready to say, 'Show me now', a flash of inspiration hit. The ball would be a really good place to give her the ring. Good food, music, and dancing, all three of which she liked. She seemed to like the idea of getting dressed up, if the fact she got a new gown each year was anything to go by. She didn't expect him to go, so he'd get points for doing it with her. The ball sounded like a good plan.
"I'll wait for Tuesday."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Really?"
"Really. I know you like to dance, and I like to dance, so why turn up the opportunity to dance together?"
He thought the look she was giving him was suspicion, but instead she asked, "Do you have dress robes?"
"Yes, I have dress robes. They haven't been out of my closet in a while, but…" He began searching though the closet and then handed her a set of dark, almost black, forest green dress robes with a black and silver vest and tie. "I think they'll do."
She looked at them carefully. "Yes, I think they'll do as well."
She re-hung his robes and then walked to the bed. She lay down and stretched out.
"Did you do something to your hair?"
She smiled, genuinely pleased that he had noticed. "This was my one big yearly splurge. Ginny and I get together, buy our gowns, eat lunch, get our hair done, and get massaged. So yes, I got my hair cut, the style is pretty much the same, but it's a bit shorter. You should see Ginny, though. She's blonde. I'm looking forward to Monday morning and seeing what Harry has to say about that."
"Why would she dye her hair? It's beautiful the way…" He trailed off feeling a little silly.
She sat up and gave him an understanding look. "It's okay. I know you like red hair. She dyed it because blond will look better with her dress. It will be red again sometime on Wednesday most likely. Red hair really doesn't go with the gown. So for the next few days, it'll be blond."
He sat on the bed next to her, his fingers stroking her very not red hair. "I am becoming partial to brunette, as well. So, did you have a late lunch, or will you want to eat soon?"
"I'm pretty full. I was thinking of just having some popcorn later tonight, but I'll keep you company while you eat."
"I'm hungry now. How about we move to the kitchen?"
They stood and went into the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of wine, while he began prepping for dinner for one.
"Do you want help?" Hermione asked.
"No thanks. I'm so used to cooking this for just me that an extra set of hands would throw me off."
She watched him as he set his grill pan to heating, tossed up a quick salad, and seasoned a lamb chop. There was a much-practiced look to how he was moving.
"You've made this before then?"
"Probably about three times a month. It's easy. It's good. I could probably make this and a few other dishes in my sleep." He popped a frozen roll into the oven and set the chop to sear.
She took a sip of her drink. "What did you do today?"
"Selected my next project, wrote up a letter to let them know I wanted it, but would not be starting until July sixth, and named my price. Now I wait for them to see if they want me badly enough to take those terms."
"No percentage on this one?"
"No." He shook his head. "It's an interesting bit of work, but the market for dragon sedatives is extremely limited."
"Dragon sedatives?"
"Yes, the people who employ Charlie want something more effective than stunning spells, with less chance of it backfiring, and fewer bad side effects. And, if at all possible, in a form that a dragon will willingly eat."
"If at all possible..." She smirked. "While they're at it why not ask for one that the dragon will willingly dose himself with and save everyone the bother of having to drug him. Even better yet, how about you breed a docile dragon that doesn't need to be drugged?"
He flipped the lamb chop. "You'd really have to see Hagrid about that. Although I'm not sure he'd be willing to breed a docile dragon. He'd probably find them boring." Severus grabbed the roll from the oven, tossing it from hand to hand before setting it on his plate. "It should be interesting work, though. Dragons are so fiercely magical that they can… metabolize, for lack of a better word, almost all magic that comes their way. So this potion will have to be able to slip past their magical defences. The first thing I'm going to send them for testing won't have any magic at all. It will be a concentrated dose of opium, a sort of super heroin. Once I see how that works, it will be much easier to come up with a formula. Plus, for all I know, they may have overlooked a high dose sedative simply because it isn't magical."
They sat down for dinner and continued to talk about his thoughts for a Dragon Calming Draught. Towards the end of the meal she had gone fairly quiet and thoughtful. He decided to take a quick peek at her mind, and saw a white dress, but she pushed it aside, not quite ready to breach that topic, and he quickly pulled back.
"There is one thing I've been thinking about all day."
"What?" He was expecting to hear about the dress.
"Well, maybe thinking isn't the right word. Something I'd like to try on you." She smiled warmly.
"Something you'd like to try… Is this something I'm going to like?"
"Oh, I think so."
"Then by all means, try away."
"Go upstairs, get naked, and lie down. I'll join you in a minute."
He looked immensely pleased as he bounded up the stairs. Anything that involved her doing something to him upstairs and naked sounded much better than a conversation involving a wedding dress.
Hermione went to her purse and pulled out a small bottle of almond oil she had purchased after she and Ginny got their massages. She found him laying face up on the bed, hands clasped behind his head, looking very amused.
"Roll over." He did so, and she joined him on the bed, straddling his thighs. "I had the lady who worked on me teach me this spell. I've been dying to try it ever since."
"Aren't you going to take off your clothes?"
"Maybe later, I want to do a good job at this, and that will be easier to do if I don't get distracted."
He lifted his head and turned it to see her. "Wait, what exactly are you going to do to me?"
"I'm going to give you a massage. The massage witch who worked on me used a four hand spell, and I asked her to teach it to me, now I want to try it on you. Lie back down, relax, I think you'll like this."
Snape was thinking something along the lines of there were many other things he rather be doing if he was going to be in bed naked with her straddling him, but when her hands started to work their way around his left shoulder, and then another pair of hands began on his right, that train of thought quickly vanished.
"The way the spell works is that whatever you do with the one set of hands, the magical ones do on the other side. So as you can feel when I knead your bicep like this, the other side gets worked on, too. Brilliant isn't it?"
"Lovely." She continued to work on his upper arms, while he made a sound eerily reminiscent of purring.
"How do you do that?"
"My great-great-grandmother was a cat." He tensed suddenly as she reached the muscles between his shoulder blade and spine.
"Too hard?"
"A little, it's odd; it hurts but feels really good, too."
"How about this?" She pressed into a spot near the top of his shoulder blade.
He jumped a little when her fingers pressed into that spot. "Merlin! I can feel that in my shoulder and arm and jaw. What is that?"
"Your body's way of saying, 'rub me.'" She continued stroking and kneading the muscles of his shoulder until they were soft and supple, and then moved down to his mid and lower back. She enjoyed watching the way his skin flushed under her hands, and was amazed to watch the way it flushed under the invisible pressure of the spell.
"This is really brilliant to watch. I can see the depressions in your skin, but there's nothing there to make them."
"I'll have to do it to you at some point then." He sounded sleepy. She continued her ministrations. Long flowing strokes up his spine followed by shorter, deeper ones. Soft gliding finger work interspersed with kneading and rocking. As she worked, his breathing became more and more even.
She slid off his thighs to work on his buttocks and legs. Enjoying the freedom to really feel them and see them. The soft curves, the springy hair, and the firm muscles were all lovely to her hands. When she finished up with his feet half an hour later, he was snoring softly. She placed a blanket over him and went downstairs to have that bowl of popcorn.