A/N: I missed the Granggob. So here we go…
Chapter 7
The Granggob studied the two people glaring at it.
"Don't let my presence stop you," it said, shooting them an innocent smile, and watched their glares turn into irritated scowls.
"Very funny," Severus growled and walked towards his chair, trying to shake off the feelings that his shared look with Miss Granger had elicited. "Let's get back to business."
The Granggob hooked one of its feet around the leg of Severus' chair and pulled it away before he could seat himself in it. "Actually, I think we're about done here," it said, rising from the couch.
Severus whirled around to face it. "I beg your pardon?!" he whispered fiercely. "We haven't even touched half of what we talked about last time."
"She knows enough. You can take over from here on out," the Granggob replied reassuringly.
Severus paled, then grasped the Granggob's wrist, his voice a harsh whisper. "I am not ready. You know what comes out of my mouth if I try to talk to her. I need you there to tell me when I've fucked up!"
It grinned at him. "You don't need me for that. Just watch her closely when you are talking to her. Believe me, it will show on her face if you've fucked up."
He gave an annoyed snort, but the Granggob insisted. "No, really, I mean it. If you see she's reacting strangely, think back about what you said right before you picked up on her reaction. Look at it from every angle, then contemplate how a completely insecure dimwit might perceive those words – yes, that's humans in love for you – and if even that offers no further insight, then ask her if you've just royally fucked up without noticing."
He gave her an exasperated look, but after the Granggob just kept looking at him expectantly, he understood. "You really mean this. I should just go ahead and ask her outright?"
"Yes. Why make everything so complicated and second-guess yourself? You've both been running circles around each other for months because you suffered from self-induced misunderstandings as neither of you was capable of just speaking the truth. It's time to air the closet." With that, it folded its arms across its chest and gave a satisfied nod.
Severus opened his mouth to reply when the Granggob grasped his upper arms, spun him around and pushed at his back, propelling him towards the door. "Time's up. Out you go."
When they had almost reached the door, it turned its head to look at Hermione, who had been rooted to the spot during their conversation, studying them with narrowed eyes.
"Miss Granger," it purred, "do you want to escort dear Severus here back to the castle or did you intend to stay a bit longer? I could change into something more… comfortable, if you like." It arched an eyebrow, oddly reminiscent of a certain Potions Master.
When she jumped into action and bustled out of the room, giving the Granggob a wide berth, it chuckled softly in amusement.
Hermione could have sworn that under those soft chuckles, she'd heard the Traggob whisper. "A shame."
Severus poured the amber liquid into two tumblers, placing the bottle of firewhiskey back onto the table. He picked them up and moved towards the fireplace in his living room, where Miss Granger was seated in one of the two armchairs. He held out one of the tumblers to her and she took it from him, mindful that their fingers were not touching.
He settled down into the other chair, swirling the liquid while collecting his thoughts. They had not spoken much on the way back to his quarters except to establish that they would resume their talk there. Now that they were here, though, he did not know how to start.
He cleared his throat. "I am sure you are aware that there are some differences in the… interpretation the Traggob and I have had towards why it appeared the way it appeared. I do not deny that there is a deep… attraction that I feel for you, although I cannot fathom how this came to pass."
As hard as it had been to take advice from a cheeky non-being that was nothing short of an incredible nuisance, he had taken the Granggob's advice to heart, so when he saw Granger flinch at his words, he instantly replayed them in his head. Oh.
"I did not mean to imply that there are not more than enough obvious reasons for me to find you attractive," he hastily blurted out, "it's just that we've always had a rather hostile relationship, so it did come as a big surprise to me."
He was relieved to see she had lost her pinched look. He pressed on. "Still, I need to make it clear that although a lot of what the Traggob has mentioned has made a lot of sense, we still disagree on the subject of…" he trailed off, unable to find the right words, and finished somewhat lamely "…Lily."
Hermione's chest ached when her name fell from his lips with a wistful tone. She had known that he loved her, would always love her, but to have it confirmed broke her heart a little more. She thought of how pathetic the whole situation was, her being in love with him while he loved a ghost.
Was she in love with him? It was not the first time she had pondered how she could be sure if her feelings were not some strange mixture of attraction and hero worship. It wasn't as if she had really been in love before. She had thought she had loved Ron that way, and for a while, the two of them had been an item. But before long, she had realized that she had been in love with the idea of being in love, and that Ron himself had had very little to do with it all. By then, they had been together for a couple of months and he had been more than ready to take the next step. Somehow, she had convinced herself that if they slept together, everything might fall into place. It had been a horrible mistake. When he had undressed her with fumbling fingers and wet lips, she had felt nothing except awkward, and at some point she had decided to think of her happy place and just let him get through with it. When his first thrust had ripped through her hymen, she had screamed in agony, pushing him off forcefully and clamping her hands between her legs. That had been that, as well as the end of their relationship.
What if what she felt for Snape was the same, horrible illusion? What if she fought for him all the way and then found out she did not really want him? She blanched at the thought. Maybe they both needed to find out more, to rid themselves of an obsession.
He must be having some deeper desires concerning her, otherwise the Traggob would not have taken her form, so he was probably not as averse to sleeping with her as she had thought.
Maybe they should just do it and see how it affected them. Maybe it would help them both to see clearer. At least she would know for sure how she felt.
She heard him clearing his throat and realized he was still waiting for some kind of answer to what he had told her. Looking at him, she took a deep breath. "I am well aware of how you feel for her, and how confusing it must be for you to be confronted with such a Traggob. I'm conflicted as well, to speak the truth."
His eyes showed a spark of surprise, and he motioned for her to keep talking.
"I'm not sure how much of this," she waved her hand in the air between them, "is due to fantasy and how much due to reality. I, too, cannot promise that anything the Traggob has shown for me is what I truly want."
Bracing herself to jump off a high, dangerous cliff, she forced out her next words. "I think we should have sex."
"I. Beg. Your. Pardon?"
"Our fantasies are always going to have a hold on us unless we make them a reality," she reasoned.
He opened his mouth, but could not find a fault in her logic, so he closed it again. Thinking about what she had proposed, he found himself swamped by a confusing mix of emotions, most of them not unpleasant.
He had thought about sleeping with her theoretically, but now that she was asking him to put it into practice, he found that he had to concentrate very hard to keep his hands from trembling.
He was surprised to find his voice sound as steady as ever as he replied. "Very well."
Their eyes locked, and instantly, the heat in the room turned to smoldering. Their breathing increased as they sat in their chairs, staring at each other hungrily. The tension became unbearable, and as if on a silent cue, both jumped up from their seats, lunging for each other.
She slung her arms around his neck while one of his hands slid around her waist, the other sliding into the thick strands of her hair. Their lips met and devoured each other frantically. She arched against him as she opened up to allow him to explore her mouth at leisure.
Fire raced through her body at his touch, and she was sure he was consumed by desire just as much as she was, judging from his enthusiastic responses. As she angled her hips closer to his body he groaned into her mouth before nibbling along the side of her neck.
Hot tingles spread outward from the spot and Hermione felt her knees go weak. "Oh, Merlin," she whispered, grabbing him by the hair and pulling his head up to look at him. His pupils were wide and there was a wild, slightly crazed look in his eyes.
"Take me to bed," she whispered hoarsely, and watched his eyes glaze over with desire.
"Oh yes," he rasped. As his hands moved over the swell of her bum, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Stifling a pleasurable groan as he held her in place, he proceeded towards his bedroom, trying to keep his balance while the witch in his arms kept attacking his lips with hers.
A/N: I know what you want. You know what I want. Reviews, people, tons of reviews! The more reviews, the bigger the bang ;)