Severus can hardly believe how good things are with Lily. However, sometimes being a little eager doesn't always make things go smoothly.

Twenty years later, Hermione keeps her promise to go to Severus Snape's office instead of the tower room to meet with him and talk about the spells of the tower. Just why is he so determined to reject her and to push her away?

The Enchanted Tower Room

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o 6 o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Distressing Entreaty

~Spring 1977~

They were back in the tower room. He and Lily were kissing, their shirts wide open, her bra loose, and he was leaning into her as she sat on the window ledge, her knees straddling his legs. Her hands were roaming over his body, his hands cupping one breast as the other slid under her knickers again. Boldly she tried to remove his shirt, and he smiled, helping her, dropping his shirt on the floor on top of his robes. Her blouse quickly followed. He smiled as he stared at her, gently removing her bra as she kissed his chest. Her tongue flicked at his nipple, and he gasped at the shock-like sensation. So, that's what she feels. Wow. She did it again, and the second shock made him catch his breath again. He cupped her face, kissed her, their tongues mingling, and he pulled her closer. Her hands glided on his back, down to his hips, and he grinned, his hand slid down her side and between her legs.

His fingers continued down to her knee and slowly moved back up her leg, enjoying the feeling of her squirming from his touch. His fingers found her opening, and his thumb located her sensitive spot. After a while, her breath hitched, and she moaned. He laughed softly, using his deep-throated laugh, and continued rubbing it until she started digging her nails into his skin. He straightened to watch her face as she came in his hand. He stood, letting her relax as he opened his trousers and let them fall to the floor, freeing his hardened penis. Her eyes swept down him. Severus pressed against her again, cupping her face, kissing her ardently, savoring her mouth as he rubbed himself against her wetness.

"Oh, Sev, wait…" she uttered.

"Touch me. I want to feel your hands on me again," he said in his silky drawl.

"Okay," she said as she slid her hands on his body again, one hand sliding down to touch his penis. It jerked, almost painfully, at her touch. He reached down to touch her sensitive spot, and she exclaimed, "Oh, my! Severus…?"

"Yes, Lily, love," he purred against her lips. He pulled her to her feet and eased her down onto his robes, lying on the floor, positioning himself on top of her. He kissed her again, his one free hand gliding on her skin, back to her wetness. Her hands were on him again, her body responding to his touch. She was pliant, moaning and eager.

"Merlin's balls, I need you," he said silkily, his breathing as ragged as hers. Her hand slid up his back, and he placed his tip at her opening, situated his hips, ecstatic at the wet, warm contact and pushed into her.

She cried out in pain.

He stopped, frozen, not sure what had hurt her so.

She was crying.

He lifted off her, holding himself above her, and wiped her tears away. "What did I do?" He felt like shite.

"It hurt," she said as she looked up at him apologetically and thick tears ran down her face into her hair.

Shite, I know that! "What hurt? What happened?" he asked remorsefully. At least stop crying… Please, Lily, don't cry…

Her tears were stopping, but her green eyes were still glistening with her unshed tears.

The door opened with an audible click, and he hung his head in frustration. "Don't cry, please. I'm sorry. I should have – I dunno, Lily, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It's not hurting so much anymore, but I want to stop," she said, sounding as if it were her fault.

It isn't her fault – it's mine! I hurt her. "Sure, yeah, I understand." Bugger, bugger.

Spring 1997

Hermione hurried down to his office as soon as she woke up, dressed and brushed her hair and teeth. She'd turned left at the bottom of the stairs and was practically down the third floor corridor before she realized where she was going. Chastising herself, she spun around and sprinted for the dungeons. The door opened as soon as she lifted her hand to knock.

"It's open, Miss Granger, please come inside and close the door," she heard him say from somewhere in his office. She entered the room, noticing that even though he was technically the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, his office still looked like it had when he'd taught Potions. The only difference was the jars of creatures and strange skulls interspaced between the potion ingredients. Snape sat at his desk, wearing his usual teaching robes. His lips curled into a semblance of a smile as he took in her shirt and Muggle jeans. A small cauldron of something sat on his desk and two teacups, one filled with the same silvery liquid as in the cauldron. "Mind-Clarity Potion, so that we may speak unencumbered." He pointed to the chair in front of his desk. "Sit down and drink the potion, please."

Surprised, and knowing that he must have been up all night to brew the potion since she knew that it took six hours to create, Hermione sat down and drank the offered drink. Nevertheless, even as she set her cup down, she knew that the potion wasn't helping. She knew that if he rose from his desk and walked over to her, she would have jumped to her feet and kissed him. Still, it was a bit shocking to her that even though they were away from the tower room, she still wanted to kiss him – and more. Just thinking of what he would have done if they had been in the tower and not here in his office sent a tremor of desire down her spine. Surely if the spells were only on the tower, I shouldn't feel this way about him?

"You've been going to the tower nearly every morning, haven't you?" he said, watching her as if waiting for some visual sign that the potion had begun to work.

His question was not what she'd expected. "Yes," she admitted, "and you haven't been lately, so there isn't a problem." Even in his familiar frockcoat and waistcoat, Hermione could still visualize the taut, lean muscle of his body.

"I've been spending my time with Dumbledore every morning. Not that this is any concern of yours," he stated, chastising her, then amended his tone. "His hand, it's – he's not recovering." He seemed to be scrutinizing her as if still waiting for some reaction or another.

Dumbledore's hand – the dead hand? The one Harry said he injured breaking a curse. "But surely Madam Pomfrey…?" she asked, stunned.

"No, Miss Granger, this is out of her range of knowledge," he said and then smiled when Hermione's expression must have reflected the surprise she felt at his words. "Madam Pomfrey is very skilled with accidental magic and spell reversal, and all such things inept, imbecilic students can do to one another. When it comes to the Dark Arts or curses, she refers them to me. Katie Bell, for instance, was immediately brought to me, not to the hospital wing. We are off the subject here. I had you come here to talk to you about what has been happening between you and me. There are things about this situation you do not understand."

Hermione had been listening to him, to every syllable of every smoothly spoken word, her eyes focused on his. "The Grey Lady told me the room is cursed. She said she'd set spells on the entrance to the stairs to keep people from entering, but they don't seem to work for me," Hermione said. His eyes narrowed, and he steepled his fingers together in front of him, his elbows on his desk.

Oh, those glorious fingers, she thought, watching him press his index fingers against his lips, making Hermione stare at his lips, remembering his kiss just the other evening. She rubbed her hands on her jeans, then clasped her hands together tightly on her lap.

His eyes followed her every move. "What spells?" he asked, breaking into her daydreaming.

Hermione tilted her head, her gaze not fixed on anything in particular as she tried to recall what the Grey Lady had told her, and licked her upper lip. "She'd said that the room was cursed and that the Bloody Baron had tried to use the room to trap her into marrying him. However, the room's curses didn't work on her as he'd expected. She'd said there were Beguiling, Luring and Seducing Curses that affect you the moment you begin to ascend the stairs, set there to draw you up to the room." She lifted her eyes back up to meet his, biting, then slowly releasing, her lower lip under his intense stare. Plucking up the nerve, she continued. "The room itself has Entrapment, Enticement and Ensnarement Curses and Charms. She'd said that the spells are twisted together somehow, and unless you know which charm was added to which curse, you cannot break the magic of the room – except to leave by your own will power and determination," she recited as best she could remember. Actually, with the Clarifying Potion, I seem to recall her words precisely.

His gaze left her face for a moment, and he began stroking his lower lip with his fingers. "I see," he said, still staring at her. "I believe the Bloody Baron cursed the room. He told me of the spells when I was a student."

Her eyes flicked from his lips back up to his eyes. "Then why do you go back up there?" she asked, bewildered that he'd return to a room so frequently if he knew it'd been cursed.

His eyes flicked back to her face. "The room holds fond memories for me. It's been a place of solitude and serenity for me for years. I knew of the curses on the room but assumed that they only activated when I was in the room with someone else, someone of the opposite sex." His dark eyes were riveted on her soft brown ones as his index fingers moved across his lower lip, making Hermione's pulse quicken. "Beguiling, Luring and Seducing Curses, that makes sense why…"

Hermione had a hard time keeping her attention on their discussion instead of watching his fingers stroke his lip. "But what I don't understand is why?" she asked, confused, forcing herself to look him in the eye again. Hermione felt squirmy, shifting in her chair as she watched him, and licked her lips again. "The Grey Lady put spells on the portal to the stairs to make it resistant when she was alive – here at the school. She'd placed Dissuading and Repulsing Charms on the barrier to prevent others from getting in. The spells were – are to make people resist being drawn to the tower stairs, to resist the pull of the allure. But they didn't work on me and apparently not on you either." Without realizing it, her eyes had traveled down the buttons of his coat. He cleared his throat, and her eyes darted up to his instantly.

His dark eyes focused intently on hers as he interlaced his fingers, moving his hands under his chin. "I don't recall feeling such spells on the portal to the stairs," he stated.

"I do, I think… I'm not sure, but since you and I – since we've – you know," she said, blushing, dropping her eyes to the surface of his desk, "been kissing…" She was staring at his mouth again and quickly looked up and saw his eyebrow arch. "Okay, snogging. Well, sometimes I have these doubts – reservations, just before I push my way through the wall to get to the stairs." She noticed his head snapped up off his hands, and his eyes momentarily widened. "What? You sense it too?"

"You said 'push through the wall,' correct? As if you are pushing yourself through the stone?" he asked. His eyes darted down to her chest and then slowly rose to her face. "Is that what you feel? Is that the barrier?"

"No – maybe. The Grey Lady said that you cannot pass the portal onto the stairs unless you are meant to be together, unless you are soul mates or destined for each other," Hermione recalled. His eyebrow arched again at her words. "Only I wasn't with anyone when I went through the portal."

"I was…" One of his thumbs began stroking his lip as Snape seemed to be contemplating her words. "I passed through the portal with someone. But if the portal only allows you to enter when you are with someone you are destined for, how did you get in? Why didn't the resistance spells work?" His gaze traveled down her front slowly as he spoke, then flicked back up quickly. "That first morning, was this your first time in the tower room?"

"First time, sir?" she asked. "Up in the tower room that day when you were there? No, that was my third actually."

"Were you with anyone your first time?" he asked, rubbing his thumb across his lower lip again.

Hermione was transfixed watching the gentle caress of his lip, remembering the feel of his thumb on her…

"Miss Granger?"

"Huh? Oh! No, sir, I was alone both times," she said, feeling her cheeks growing warm. Pay attention. What's the matter with me? I'm lusting after Snape!

"Nevertheless, you passed the portal onto the stairs alone. Are you sure you heard the Grey Lady correctly? I have passed the portal many times, unencumbered," he said.

Hermione nodded. "That's what she said: unless you are meant to be together, unless you are soul mates or destined for each other…"

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes scrutinizing her. "So, you're implying that somehow you and I are destined for each other, is that it? Really, that's a stretch. How did you even find the tower in the first place?"

"Well, I'd been in the room at the base of the tower before, my first year, when Harry, Ron and I saved the Philosopher's Stone." He snorted at her comment and her brows furrowed briefly. "I remembered the room. It was the one with all the flying keys, and it intrigued me. I wanted to go back this year and see it again…" Suddenly, she remembered something she'd forgotten. "I had leaned against the wall when we were looking at the keys! My shoulders had sunk in a bit! I think my hand may have, too. I'd immediately stood up, thinking I'd lost my footing… but my mind was on getting the right key for the door, so I must have unknowingly stepped away from the obscured entrance to the stairs. I've been affected by the spells since my first year! Only, Harry and Ron were with me then." She looked up at him, astounded, and his eyes flicked back to her face. "But if I am destined to be with either Harry or Ron, why am I – I mean why am I drawn up to the room to be with you? Why is it you and me?"

"That seems to be the question I am trying to resolve: Why this is happening between you and me?" He swore suddenly, rising and turning to the shelves behind him. He returned to the desk, holding a small vial. "Tea, please," he said aloud as if to the walls. Immediately, a house-elf arrived carrying a teapot, leaving the steaming teapot on the desk, and promptly disappeared. Snape poured the tea into the cups on his desk, then added a several drops of the potion from the vial into each cup. "It's a Calming Ascetic to quell libidinousness."

"Libidinousness, sir?" she asked, tearing her eyes away from his hands to look up at his face.

"Yes, Miss Granger, libidinousness: full of sexual lust, lustful, lewdness, lasciviousness… Have you or have you not been staring at me, undressing me with your eyes?" He picked up his cup as her mouth dropped open. "Drink it, please."

How in bloody dragons did he know? Wait. He's drinking Calming Ascetic? He needed a potion because – is that why he's been staring at me? Lasciviousness. "Sir, I was wondering," she said, picking up her own cup, "if you knew about the room, the secret entrance, why didn't you use the room when you tried to stop Professor Quirrell from taking the stone?" She sipped the tea, crinkling her nose at how the potion altered the flavor of the Pekoe tea blend.

"Pardon me?" he asked.

"I saw you limping the day before Harry's first Quidditch match. You'd been bitten, or hurt, by Hagrid's three-headed dog, Fluffy. If there was another way in, then why didn't you just go around the dog?"

"The wounds on my leg were from feeding the blasted beast with Hagrid," Snape replied, snarling. "He was concerned that his precious pet should have sufficient food and water. I'd had just enough time to pull him away before that beast scratched me."

"But the door – the one in the corridor – why didn't Professor Quirrell just use that one?" she asked.

"Because he didn't know about it. From what I understand you have to want to go to the tower room to find the door," he replied. "Neither Professor McGonagall nor Dumbledore knew about the door nor could they see it when passing."

"But if you have to want to get in to go to the tower room, you have to know that it's there," she surmised. "I chanced upon it by accident when I wanted an easier way back out from the room at the base of the tower… Oh! I'd already been up to the tower room." She looked up at Snape. The urges she'd been ignoring seemed quite a bit lessened, although not altogether gone. "Sir, I thought that Love Charms and Love Potions were forbidden at school. The books that contain them are in the Restricted Section."

"They are," he said, sounding slightly more relaxed, "and yes, Professor Dumbledore had the books refiled in the Restricted Section when he became Headmaster. Many think it was Dexter Fortescue or Dumbledore that forbade the learning of Love Spells and Potions at Hogwarts. It wasn't. It was Rowena Ravenclaw. Now, I understand why." Hermione tilted her head, confused, and he shook his head. "The Grey Lady attended school during Rowena Ravenclaw's last few years of teaching. If the Grey Lady was in fact the reason the tower room was cursed and if she did place the restraining spells on the entrance to the stairs, then it falls to reason that this secret entrance to the tower was secured as well. Still, none of this tells me how to disable the spells we seem to be affected by."

"We?"

"Yes, Miss Granger, we – you and me. I've obviously been under their influence as well. Please, stay away from the tower. Exercise your will power and determination, but do not meet me up there. At least until I can figure out these spells and disband them. Please, stay away."

~ TBC ~