A/N: Wow, last chapter was relative quiet. Was it that bad? Talk to me, ladies! Is this better? You know what sense is remaining...right? ;)

Chapter Six

Hermione flexed her fingers as her sweaty palms quivered. Touching him, kissing Severus had absolutely set her on fire, and he just sat there, staring at her as though he couldn't feel the flames. She knew he was the person she desired.

There hadn't been many men in her life since Ron. None, really. Only certain men fit her criteria and she wasn't going to waste her time on someone who wasn't at least a friend. Unfortunately, work and her current friends made finding new ones difficult.

But then, along came Severus.

She couldn't really pinpoint when the attraction started. She always found him intriguing when she was at school. Respect after he showed his Mark. Admiration after Voldemort was gone. But working with him showed her the man he was underneath his robes and scowl, and she found herself having quite naughty thoughts about that man as she sipped her morning tea.

Slowly as the months wore on, Hermione discovered something she hadn't even considered. She didn't just want him to take her over the desk in her office so hard that she didn't even care the papers that fell were previously in chronological order.

She wanted to talk with him. Long talks about cases, and people, and theories. In her mind, these talks would happen over merlot, with a fireplace. Or maybe on a stone path, surrounded by trees. Or in her bed, with the sun rising.

In her daydreams, Hermione began to wonder about such things like what he wore to bed, or if he had a social life, or if he really would like the scarf she knitted him that was secreted away in the bottom drawer of her overstuffed desk.

Basically, she had fallen for him. Bad.

Ron had been fun. Being with Ron was easy. But Ron had never made her feel on fire. Safe, comfortable, and contented, but not inflamed. He didn't make her yearn like the man sitting on the sofa had well before even this silly curse of Sirius'. Hermione was almost tempted to thank him, if the rambling from Severus earlier in the evening was true and not just a ploy to get her away from him.

But the kiss theyshared didn't feel like a ploy to her, and his red tinted cheeks and glazed eyes were in agreement.

Severus was mulling over the same thoughts as she. He knew there was no deception on her part. There couldn't be, as the curse wouldn't allow it. Hermione was only going to feel driven toward someone she had an affinity with and desired. Sirius must have assumed that person would be Harry. After growing up with James and assuming the boy was just like him, it made sense that he wasn't able to fathom a witch not secretly in love with Harry Potter.

But Hermione most definitely wasn't.

Hermione was in love with him, Severus Snape.

Not only was she in love with him, he was her true love. The best match for her. She could, of course, find love with another, but it was rare that someone found their true love. Nothing would come as smooth and natural as a life with your one true love. Anything less would be a love life filled with imperfect affections and hard relationships.

And Fate had destined Hermione Granger and Severus Snape to be that perfect match.

That silly wretch obviously had a twisted sense of humor.

He knew that the curse would force her to find her true love, something Sirius had more than likely overlooked. Fortunately, her love was nearby, or she quite likely would have gone insane. A counter-curse wasn't known as far as he was aware.

So here they were, true loves, sitting on his sofa. That one kiss almost completely crumbled any resistance he had built up to her. A soft spot had existed for her for years. He wasn't lying when he told her he had watched her from the time she started sitting in on Order meetings, displaying her intelligence, bravery and common sense. From the moments they would spend at Grimmauld Place, at loose ends waiting for news, sitting in the library, the only two souls to take solace in literature. He always felt they were kindred souls and it was little surprise to him that they wound up in the same profession, destined to be partners.

But what he did not expect was for her to return his sentiment. There had to be someone out there better suited for her than a washed up, greasy, cantankerous old wizard.

He thought about thanking Sirius, but punching him in the face had been a lot more satisfying. That opportunity wouldn't have come without the curse either, truthfully, so maybe he should give the man his thanks.

"Severus, are you angry with me?" she asked quietly.

His thoughts came back to the present and the woman beside him who was almost twitching in her attempt to control her body's movements. Why would he be angry with her? Ah, yes. Her little deception when he was speaking with her.

"You are under a powerful compulsion; you can't be held responsible."

"Are you going to hold me not responsible for everything I do? What if I told you I would have done it without the curse?"

"I'd assume you were lying," he told her even though he knew how the spell worked. Knowing and knowing seemed vastly different in his mind. But she deserved to have the knowledge of what had been revealed to him. "But the spell doesn't just reveal a person you desire. Hermione, do you believe in true love?"

"Yesss," she hissed, as though he had just declared his intent right then. The words resonated with her. They almost gave her some relief just by being spoken. It felt so right. "Ron," she started. "Ron wasn't my soul mate. My true love. We were compatible, but something was missing. I need that something, Severus, and everything is telling me right now I can get it from you. I'm trying damnably hard not to take you right now on this couch but if that's not what you want, I suggest drop me St. Mungo's."

She clenched her fists as he took in what she said. "This spell says we're soul mates," he told her as she nodded. "You're okay with that?"

She continued to nod. Words were becoming difficult as she fought control over her body. Tremors passed down her arms and her legs, wanting her to reach to him. "I would have done this weeks ago. Curse or no curse."

"Hermione…"

Words were lost as she reached for him, pushing him back against the armrest. Before his mind caught up with his actions, her mouth claimed, hands in his hair, taking in him like he was the air she needed to breath. He had never felt so wanted.

"Severus," she managed. "Off."

He fumbled with his clothes, wondering for the first time why he wore so many, when she became impatient, and with a quick spell, divested him of all but his trousers and underwear. His first instinct was to cover himself. When had he been bare to anyone but Poppy Pomfrey in the last twenty years? But as soon as his arms began to move, she ran one hand down his chest, nails lightly dragging against his skin, leaving red trails in their wake. He froze at the pleasure she kindled, burning across his skin. Her fingers went all the way down to his belt as she continued to kiss him senseless.

This wasn't how he had intended things to proceed. Just once he wanted the opportunity to do things properly. Get to know a woman, ask her out on a date. Take her to dinner and woo her properly. He wasn't a man as the mercy of his baser needs but he'd never been given the opportunity to display that.

"Are you sure you're ready? The curse might be satisfied with something less. If you're uncomfortable, we could go out for dinner first," he told her as she focused on his belt buckle.

Hermione looked at him, hair and eyes wild. Somehow her shirt was almost half undone and he could see the teal lace of her bra underneath. "Do you want to wait?" she asked, pulling his belt free from his trousers with one long movement. Gods, she was a vision.

"Not really," he admitted.

"Fuck now. Dinner later," she told him, leaving no room for argument.

He moaned an agreement, standing up to shake his trousers off and she pulled his pants down with them, leaving him naked in his sitting room and her still almost completely dressed.

"You're gorgeous, Severus," she told him reverently from her position seated in from on his on the sofa. Hermione slowly traced the outline of one buttock and down his thigh.

He looked down at her and tucked an errant wisp behind her ear. "I believe that's my line." Pulling her to her feet, he soon had her as naked as himself.

"Is this velvet?" Hermione asked, putting on foot up on the soft sofa.

"Probably. Circa 1950s, I'm sure. If you don't like it, we'll burn it."

"But let's christen it first," she said, voice deepened with her desire. She looked at him from over her shoulder, her hands on the back of the sofa. He had a momentary pause at her position. Then she gave her rear a wiggle and pushed it back toward him.

"Severus, please."

He stepped to her then, one steadying hand on her waist. His eyes locked to hers and if he needed confirmation, he had it. Her eyes closed in bliss as he entered her, tension ramping up for him as much as relief coursed through her body. There would be a time for tender lovemaking but this was not that time. Now was the time to be claimed.

Hermione pushed back against him, his sizable length filling her fully. She paused there a moment, both hands grabbing the back of the couch. A throaty rumble left her as he guided back out again and swiftly entered to the hilt. "Yes," she told him. "Yes."

Soon no words were spoken by either and none were needed. One hand gripped her shoulder as the other kept its position on her waist, using their leverage to bring her back to him time and time again and she pushed back against the couch to meet him. Their coupling was fast and furious, her need spilling over into him until there was nothing but the desire for completion.

Reaching her peak, she turned her head, capturing one of his fingers in her teeth and biting gently. The expected feel of her caused his own longing to crest, orgasm spilling over into her as he almost painfully gripped her and held her still. Slowly she moved against him, chest heaving, feeling her own orgasm finally fade. Her vision swam and she closed her eyes until the moment passed, giving his finger a kiss before falling against the sofa to catch her breath.

Severus grabbed his wand from where it had fallen to the floor and suddenly, the couch folded down to allow for two sated souls. He pulled her down beside him, cleansing them in the process.

"Severus?" came the slightly muffled voice.

"Hmm?"

"That was fantastic. Thank you…Severus?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you," she said simply.

"I love you too," he told her, his honest reply coming much easier and sooner than he expected. A curse will do that, he supposed.

"Severus?"

"What, Hermione?" he asked. Was she going to be one of those women who needed a heart to heart after coupling, always feeling vulnerable about his feelings?

"I'm going to fucking kill Sirius."

He smiled. His true love indeed.