Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and words belong to the brilliant J.K. Rowling and not to me.
A/N: Thank you, Moon Revel, for being such a helpful beta!
A head with lots of black, messy hair floated amidst the green flames of Hermione's fireplace, the flames shining on the green of the head's eyes so that they sparkled like jewels. Harry greeted Hermione then asked, "Are you coming to the Barking Man with us tonight, Hermione?"
"No, I will not be able to," she replied.
"It's okay, Hermione," Harry said. "Ron said you could come."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, did he now? Remind me to thank him for giving his permission!"
Harry started to shake his head but choked on some ash. Coughing it out, he said, "Really, Hermione, Ron wants you to come. I talked to him, and he's willing to work things out."
Hermione stood up from her sofa and looked incredulously at Harry. "You don't mean he is hoping we will get back together, do you?"
The emerald flames did not completely hide the flush that crept up Harry's cheeks. "I don't know, Hermione. Just come. We can still have fun—all of us together. Come with us."
"Well, even if I did want to go, I cannot," she replied. "I will be working tonight—and every Friday evening for the duration of the summer at least. Give everyone my regards."
Harry looked disappointed, but said, "Sure thing, Hermione. I guess we'll see you—er… later." Then the disembodied head vanished, and the magical flames disappeared.
Hermione entered Severus' office Friday evening, again donning flattering apparel. She wore smooth, black linen pants and a three-quarters sleeved, black, button-up blouse. The top buttons were left open, exposing a silver necklace with a silver charm that closely resembled the letter 'F' except its bars slanted downwards. It was Ansuz, the ancient runic symbol for inspiration, knowledge, and magical poetry.
She smiled at him and said cheerfully, "Hello, Severus. I hope you're doing well today?"
Severus nodded and smiled as well. "Thank you, Hermione. I am doing well enough now that you have arrived."
Hermione had started to sink into a chair, but paused—in limbo somewhere between standing and sitting. He couldn't mean… She plopped down into the chair rather ungracefully.
Severus' eyes flashed, and his smile faded. "Now that you have arrived," he continued, "we can finally begin to get a good start on these potions for the Ministry." Severus sat down in his chair. Then he heard Hermione sigh. She was looking down in her lap. Gods, she looks exquisite… He loved the fitted, black attire, accentuating her undeniably womanly body. He gazed at her surreptitiously, ready to move his eyes away when she looked up again. Shite! Something is stirring, and we are not even making the potion yet.
Hermione raised her eyes again and asked, "Are you ready to go down to the lab?"
"Actually, I need another minute," he replied.
"Shall I go on down then?"
"No, I must collect something I left in the classroom. When I return, we can walk down together."
Severus rushed out of the office, pausing once he closed the door. He had no true need to go his classroom, other than to gather his nerves and calm his raging emotions. He took a few deep breaths, leaning his head back and looking towards the ceiling on the last one, exhaling forcefully. Polite. Professional. Courteous. Calm.
Running those words like a mantra through his mind, Severus returned to his office. Hermione was startled by his sudden reappearance. She dropped a book she had been reading, taken from Severus' bookshelves.
"Stop dropping things whenever I walk into the room," he remarked with a tone of amusement.
"Oh, sorry! I hope you're not angry that I was looking at your books?"
Severus reached down to pick up the book she dropped, keeping his thumb on the page she had been looking at. "Not to worry, Hermione. How could I expect you to keep away from them? It is akin to a moth driven to flame. Or rather like a goblin to his treasure…"
He looked down at the book. Shakespeare!
Hermione said, "I was not aware that you enjoyed Muggle literature, Severus."
"Well, I certainly do. Muggles must be given credit for the creative genius of their artists, poets, and visionary thinkers. Although, there are some conspiracy theories and suspicions that Shakespeare himself was a wizard…"
He clandestinely peeked at the page number which Hermione had the old tome open to. Page 487—noted. He placed it back on the shelf.
Hermione was beaming, scanning the titles and authors represented on the shelves. Her eyes alight, she exclaimed, "You read all my favorites! Oscar Wilde, Edgar Allan Poe, Virgil, Ovid, Homer, Jane Austen, T.S. Eliot, Mark Twain… Wow!"
Severus laughed softly at her exuberance. In a teasing (but not rudely so) tone he said, "So it would seem that you are a know-it-all about even Muggle literature. How charming!"
Hermione's eyes traveled back to Severus. Her eyes glowed with intensity still, although she was no longer looking at the books which had held her infatuation. "You know," she said, "despite how much awe and wonder the wizarding world holds for someone raised in the Muggle world like me, after a while I find I wish I had someone who would understand and be interested in some of the things, like fine literature, that only the Muggle world has to offer."
"Indeed," agreed Severus. "The pure-blood mania has become nearly nonexistent since Voldemort's defeat, but the wizarding world on the whole is still far too arrogant to consider that the Muggles have anything valuable to offer."
"Perhaps we could get together on occasion to discuss our favorite works. How about it, Severus?" she asked excitedly.
Severus smirked and said wryly, "What? We already spend three evenings a week together. Perhaps we should just make our meetings a daily occurrence?"
"If you say so, Severus," she jeered back.
"Perhaps we can find time to talk about literature sometime," he said seriously. "Now, come. We must get downstairs and begin brewing."
Hermione was watching the mixture simmer. She had to allow it to do so for eleven minutes and twenty-two seconds exactly before alerting Severus that it was time to add it into the rest of the potion.
Snape was busy preparing the potion himself. He had not allowed Hermione to do much of anything. She was not sure why he even needed her help if he was just going to do it by himself!
He had said, "This is a delicate procedure, Hermione. I am afraid that you may only do some of the simpler parts at this time. I need to focus on making it correctly without cause for concern or distraction. There are a few procedural portions that still need to be fleshed out. As your training and skill increase, and when I can make these potions with complete certainty of the process, then I will have you assist more."
So she sat on the stool in the back corner of the lab, resting her arm on the counter. Hermione was bored watching the time, so she began watching Severus instead. Now, he was entertaining! She gazed in awe at how diligently, smoothly, and precisely he would handle each ingredient. His every movement was full of fluid grace. He appeared calm, confident, and in his own element. A true master at work… Hermione thought she might even be able to sense the strong connection Severus must have with the potion as he was making it, so intense with magical energy was the air surrounding him. She could not possibly doubt that he was "listening" with his senses, using his intuition to assure he took the right steps at the right moments.
He was so beautiful. It was his grace and poise—the tender way he did his work. Yet, it was much more. He was just so completely stunning! Hermione sighed deeply.
Every now and then, a strand of his dark, shiny hair would fall forward into his eyes. He would break from his flow to shove it back behind his ear with frustration. Hermione wished she could do that for him. She felt suddenly full of tenderness just watching him. His eyes were glowing. How he loved his work! He had removed his teaching robes beforehand, as they would be too hot and cumbersome, so she was able to admire the way his black trousers and black, button-up shirt were fitted to his body, and she could clearly see the outline of his tall, slender frame. And along with hands that seemed to caress everything they touched, piercing black eyes, long raven hair, a smooth and silky voice, and a killer smile that she thought rather few people had seen—well, he was just so sexy!
She wondered at why she had not ever noticed before. Perhaps because she had been in school, and the idea of finding her teacher attractive was too absurd to cross her mind. Besides, she was younger then and had still hoped that Ron would figure out how right they were for each other. She snorted. She had been too wrapped up in the postwar celebrations and mournings and then in her seventh year of school, where she not only had to revise for N.E.W.T.s but had Head Girl duties as well. That left very little time to think about who she was as a person and what kind of person would actually be good for her to be in a relationship with. And Severus had certainly never let her (nor anyone else from what she had seen) close enough to have the chance to know him. She must admit that it was Severus himself—well, the little she actually knew of Severus—and all his intrigue that played into how strongly she was attracted to him.
Suddenly, Hermione became aware she had not checked the time in way too long a period. She feared she may have ruined the whole project if she had let it sit too long… She breathed deeply in relief to see that it had only been ten and a half minutes. She was just about to tell Severus it was nearly ready when he turned around and said, "Hermione, will you kindly bring that mixture over here?"
She did, bewildered, but yet oddly unsurprised at Snape's impeccable, intuitive sense of timing. She sidled over to where he sat stirring the main potion. When she set the small cauldron down next to him, he reached to take it, and her hand brushed against his. Hermione felt a warm tingling rush through her again. Every time we touch…
She returned to the opposite counter where she had been sitting. She grabbed the stool and carried it over, setting it down right next to Severus. She sat down. When he looked at her appraisingly, she said, "I'll just watch you then, shall I?"
He nodded and, using both hands, began pouring the mixture from the small cauldron into the larger. Once again, a lock of hair framing his face fell forward, and Severus let out a frustrated growl since his hands were occupied, and he could not move it out of his way.
Without premeditated thought or hesitation, Hermione moved her arm forward and softly brushed back the recalcitrant hair, tucking it behind his ear, her fingertips gently running across his face as she did so.
He set the cauldron down rather abruptly. He turned to look at her, his eyes wide with surprise and question. They were just so close to each other… Their eyes were locked on each other's intently. Hermione licked her lips and leaned forward. Severus looked confused and conflicted. He started shaking as Hermione drew even closer to him. His hand lay on the table, and she covered it with hers. He gasped, but did not draw away. He was staring at her searchingly, his mouth open in surprise. He wanted her, she was sure of it. He would have stopped her by now otherwise! She closed her eyes when her face was just before his own. He was still shaking, but let out a soft moan when only a thin layer of air separated them. Her lips found his to be pliant and accepting.
Wham! As their lips moved and met each other's, she felt as if a fire had lit deep inside her, spreading and growing without abandon. She pressed in eagerly, wanting nothing but to live forever in this heat and passion. Severus let out an anguished cry. Worried, she began to pull away, but he wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her in closer to him. Supple lips moved together softly and slowly as they savored each other.
"Mmmmm," Hermione moaned as ecstasy flooded her core. She put her other hand around the back of Severus' neck, deepening the passion in their kiss. Suddenly, he pulled away from her completely. Hermione opened her eyes to see him staring at her, his eyes glassy and his lips trembling.
"I apologize," he said sadly, rising from his chair and walking quickly to the door.
"Severus? Wait! What's wrong?"
He stopped walking, but stood facing the door. He spoke without turning around. "I should not have let that happen. It was very unprofessional and irresponsible of me."
"But did you not want it? Did you not enjoy it?"
"I… it does not matter. You… too young…" He covered his eyes with a shaking hand. "You can not possibly . . ."
"Severus…" I love you. "I want this. I do! Please tell me you feel the same."
After a long moment, he turned back around. "Oh Gods, Hermione! I do, but I do not think this is quite right…"
"Nothing interesting ever is," she quipped. "At least, that is what Oscar Wilde once said, and I quite agree with him . . . "
Realizing she was rambling nervously, she focused her eyes on his imploringly. "Severus… please…"
Severus' eyes widened and a shadow crossed his face. He turned abruptly and headed towards the door again.
Hermione gasped aloud, tears forming. She watched with wet eyes as he reached the door, overwhelmed by soaring heights of joy turned into terrifying heights of tension. He stood with his hand on the door handle. She heard a loud exhale and watched as he stood straighter, his shoulders relaxing.
He spun suddenly, his eyes furious with passion, locking on hers with smoldering intensity. He strode swiftly to where she sat, now the one doing the shaking. He stopped just in front of her. His sparkling eyes looked down into hers, regarding her with tenderness.
He smiled indulgently and whispered, "Interesting is right. Why does wrong have to feel so good?" He quickly bent down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up to him, and kissing her again with a passion that raged consumingly now that all hesitancy was abandoned. They both gasped at the fiery intensity of their intimate kiss. He pulled her into a tighter embrace, the kiss deepening and tongues slowly swirling around each other.
After a little while, Snape pulled back slightly, gasping for air. "You take my breath away," he whispered.
Hermione smiled, blushing and eyes glittering. She turned her head, breathing across his neck and planting a kiss there. "Yes, this should be interesting," she whispered back as she laid her head against his chest, hugging him tightly.