It had started two weeks prior, when, sitting in the living room of 12 Grimmauld Place where they both lived, and had for three months, Severus had set his book down, took off his reading glasses, and, clearing his throat to break the comfortable silence that covered the room, said her name.
"Yes, Severus?" Hermione had naively responded, looking up at him from the newspaper, her only thought that he'd be quick about whatever rude comment he was going to make about her appearance or housekeeping skills so she could get back to the article. What he said, however, floored her.
"I think we should fuck."
She couldn't even say her jaw dropped open, because it didn't. She didn't move at all, in fact. She was frozen, and all she could think was that she hoped she'd a bad case of malaria and had hallucinated that.
"Pardon me?"
"I think we should fuck. We've been snowed into this bloody house for days, I'm bored, and you're pretty enough. Also, I know you look at my arse when you think I'm not looking."
That last one had been a guess, but from the red flush that quickly covered her cheeks, he'd known he was right.
"Well— I— Snape!—" she spluttered, clutching the newspaper to her chest.
He leaned forward in his seat.
"Give me one good reason why not."
She shook her head as if to clear it. "Snape! You're awful! It's true that I've… thought about it, but I don't think you've ever been nice once in your life!" she burst out.
His eyes narrowed. "I can be nice."
She scoffed, and leaned back, apparently having regained control of her wits. "Bullshit. And even if you were, I don't think I'm looking for a meaningless shag right now."
"I could change your mind," he said arrogantly, still watching her intently.
"I doubt it," she said sweetly.
"Want to bet on it?" he taunted her.
"Bet that you can't make me want to have a meaningless shag with you? I think that doesn't seem quite fair, you're guaranteed to lose."
"If I win, I want you, tied to my bed, wearing some weird kinky sex outfit. Sexy nurse would be a good laugh," he murmured, eyes darkened and still focused on hers. She squirmed a little in her seat.
"And if I win?" she asked.
"Name your terms."
"I want… I want you to recite me Shakespeare. In public."
He growled.
"Too steep a price?" she whispered, leaning forward once more, raising her eyebrows at him.
"Nothing would be, since I'm going to win. There needs to be a time limit, of course," he said softly, his voice chocolaty soft and rock hard.
"Three months?" she replied, keeping her tone light, hoping that he was taking the piss and not serious.
"I only need one."
She closed her eyes slowly, and stuck out her hand.
They shook on it.