Downside of Aging Potions- Chapter Twenty

"Kiss me kiss me kiss me!
Your tongue is like poison
so swollen it fills up my mouth."
-The Cure, The Kiss

If she didn't focus on the scotch still on his tongue and the the subtle swaying of his drunk body, it was a fairly decent kiss. For a seventeen year old drunk off his ass.

She was only vaguely aware of his hands roaming her body, his touch stumbling.

He pressed her against the nearest wall, his touch teasing and pressing for more, she knew he wanted more than just this.

And honestly, Hermione would be happy to roll under covers with him all night.

Gladly.

Then she groaned, not out of pleasure, but out of displeasure from knowing that this was wrong.

"Severus, get some sleep."

And she walked out of the room before he could stop her and she couldn't stop herself.

Back in her room, Hermione sat up on her bed, hugging her pillow, fighting her own mind.

It wasn't to supposed to feel like that. So... warm, and (dare she think it) loving. Besides, she told herself, he was drunk. D-r-u-n-k. And he was obviously unaware of anything going on.

Obviously.

With a big sigh, Hermione muttered, "Obviously, you like him..."

A skull-shattering headache was his reward for getting drunk again.

Snape sighed and swallowed the contents of the goblet (a sloppy hang-over potion) and grimaced at the taste.

She was here. Had been here, he knew.

But what in the name of hell and all it's members had happened?

He sunk into a chair as the headache started to disappear, and sighed. Maybe he'd only dreamt that she was here, or had a dream about her.

That was it.

Shuddering, he thought about what could happen had he been drunk while she were here...

And they still had resolved nothing.

Should he have just kept his mouth shut about 'separating'? With a growl, he thought, 'Probably.'

But it wasn't so wrong, was it? Technically, he was still her teacher, but she didn't seem to think so.

He himself was only forcing himself to think that way, and through much self-discipline, he was able to better than she.

But, oh, how it become steadily harder and increasingly difficult to keep from her.

Her intelligence and wit, the charm... his body turned when he thought upon her forbidden body...

But his door bursting open and a very pissed off Hermione steaming through interrupted his thoughts.

She'd done some more thinking.

Why wait?

Ramiro was right, anyway. Completely right. And she probably should've told Snape before hand, the first time he was drunk.

That's the way she saw it and he needed to see it that way as well.

For the both of them.