About A Potions Master

Chapter 11

By Pigwidgeon37

It was lucky indeed that both her hands were imprisoned, and that she was so very wary of anything she might do to offend or hurt him again. Otherwise, she might have been tempted to break the tension by backing away from the sheer amount of sizzling masculinity that was coiling around her now. Not that she disliked it; it wasn't unpleasant. But it was nearness, and she felt naked and insecure, and Hermione Granger hated being insecure. She wanted to be in control… Yes, she thought, Ginny was right. Of course. This is exactly it. I’m dead afraid of making a gaffe, of being ridiculous, of letting somebody come close to me. But if I back out now, I know that, this time, he will be really hurt. Just this once, try not to be an idiot, Granger. You know you’ll feel awful if you botch this. Give him an answer. No need to pull a Lavender, but neither a Beatrice. Try, just be yourself. Without your usual saucy-vixen demeanour.

She raised her head and saw the flicker of insecurity in his eyes. Her heart jumped, and when it came down, it landed full force on top of the saucy vixen, knocking her out cold. “This is… a difficult question, Severus,” she said pensively. “I think that first we should decide whether to take a theoretical or a practical approach.”

Nefertiti decided that the weight of two trembling hands on her back was definitely too much, stood up and wandered away from the two useless humans, who didn't pay her attention and had begun to emit very strange scents indeed. She lay down again at a few feet's distance, and scrutinized them with eyes that had seen the gardens of Thebes in full blossom.

Her sudden departure had made Hermione's right hand glide into Severus’s left entirely of its own volition, and he was now stroking her palm with his thumb.

“Yes,” he said, “I agree. But the practical approach does seem far more interesting.”

His eyes briefly strayed away from her face and came to rest on Nefertiti, who was resting there, front paws curled up under her body, immobile, gazing… And inspiration hit.

Trying to keep his voice as even as possible, so as to not betray the exultation he was feeling, because after all he wanted to trap her, he said, “I doubt whether I could teach you anything useful you don’t yet know about potions. But…I remember a single spectacular failure in your otherwise splendid career in potion-making. Maybe you want to wipe out that stain?”

Despite herself, Hermione felt her hackles rise. “I never… that is simply not true!” she said, blushing against her will.

“Oh, yes, it is,” he smiled. “You might have forgotten it, but I have not.”

She frowned at him, trying to remember. “Well, I never… Whatever. If there really was such a… a failure, yes, I want to repeat that very recipe and do it right.”

“I would have expected no less, Hermione. Are you sure? No backing out?”

“What a strange question to ask. No, of course I won’t back out.”

‘Click’ made the trap, and the mouse was caught. “Then I suggest that you ask for a three weeks’ leave of absence from the Ministry,” he said silkily. “You have been working there for more than three years, and, knowing you, I am sure you never took a single day off.”

She was so flabbergasted that she didn't even notice the movement of his hands that slowly glided up her arms towards her shoulders. “What… I can’t… I mean, I can take three weeks off, but why…” Then it began to dawn on her. “Severus, I didn’t botch the Poly… how on earth would you know about that?”

Only then did she feel the hands carefully caressing her shoulders. A second later, cognition hit her over the head, quite hard. Not that she minded, because if that meant what she thought it meant… He wants me to remain here for three weeks, she thought, still a little incredulous, he just used this little ruse to lure me into staying, to be sure I can’t say no.

Without waiting for his answer, she said, cautiously, “But however you came by that information, you are… right as far as the potion is concerned. I should have known that it didn’t allow transformation into an animal.” Because that is something you can’t know, Severus, can you, that I didn't add the cat hair deliberately. No way you could know that.

His hands on her shoulders came to a standstill and squeezed lightly. “So, do you accept my proposition?”

“Yes, but—”

“Shouldn’t we somehow confirm this deal?” he said, drawing her a little nearer.

“Yes, but—oh, sorry!” she exclaimed, because she had stumbled over his left leg.

He caught her and pulled her closer still, so that she was now standing directly in front of him, between his legs, their bodies almost, but not quite, touching. The height of the workbench, on which he was still perching, was considerably less than the length of his legs, so that their faces were almost on equal level. Again, it was the light pressure of his hands that kept her there, prevented her from fleeing the intensity of the moment. I’m going to kiss Professor Snape! she thought wildly. For seven years I feared him, three days ago I bought him, well, got him as a present, and now I kiss—

When she felt his lips touch hers, she wasn’t exactly angry about this interruption of her thoughts. It was a relatively chaste kiss, his hands remained on her shoulders, stroking and kneading them, and her own hands rose to land on his upper arms, first tentatively, then a little bolder, stroking first, then holding and finally clenching… Oh, this feels good, who would have thought his lips could do this, after all that sneering and smirking, who said that he might have some kissing potential, Ginny I think, Ginny you have no idea how right you were, those lips are so soft and… oh, it doesn’t have to feel as if a slug were invading your mouth when he uses his tongue I knew it I knew it I knew they all did it wrong and there was a way it could feel right oh please God please let this never end…

**°°**°°**

He needed all the self-control he was capable of to not crush her against himself and to prevent his hands from roaming all over her body. It was already a miracle that they had arrived this far, considering how the day had started, and he had every intention not to jeopardize their still-frail understanding. She had consented to stay at the Manor for three weeks, so he had time enough to take a slow approach—no need to frighten her. She was a very inexperienced kisser, but the lack of expertise was more than outweighed by the passion she radiated. Probably there had been a few snogs with boys—egotistic puppies, he thought, thinking only of themselves and how to get their hands under her skirts as quickly as possible. No tongue technique, no sensibility. He had been well aware of her ever-so-slight hesitation when his tongue slid between her lips. But then she had relaxed immediately, and now her hands were holding on to his arms as if for dear life. To caress her ear with his thumb couldn’t be too much, could it? Definitely not. But if she continued to make that soft, moaning sound he really couldn’t be held responsible for his actions anymore…

Very gently, with one last, playful tug at her lower lip, he ended the kiss. “This was certainly the most pleasant way of concluding a deal we could have thought of,” he muttered, playing with a strand of hair that had escaped her chignon.

She smiled and nodded. “Do you think I might finish my sentence now?”

“Unless you were going to say something unpleasant…”

“Not really, no. I just meant to point out that today is 15 August, and school starts on 1 September. Those are seventeen days, eighteen if we start today. We need twenty-one, though.”

“I’m sure I will be able to arrange something with Albus. Given the importance of the matter, he’ll see that my presence here is required and allow me to return here as soon as I’ve finished my afternoon classes. Acantha Sinistra can step in for me, as far as my Head-of-House duties are concerned. Any other worries?” he asked, cupping her cheek.

She leaned into the caress. “Only just one. Crookshanks?”

“Ah,” he said, “Of course, Crookshanks. Is there any reason for not taking him here?”

Looking at him pensively, she rubbed her cheek against his palm. “I’m not sure… he tends to be a little temperamental in unknown surroundings. And maybe he doesn't get along with Nefertiti.”

“The house is certainly big enough to keep them apart, in case there should be any hostilities. So that doesn't seem to be a major problem.”

“And… your mother?”

Compliments, my dear. You certainly have the most astonishing presence of mind. I bet that most women would have forgotten that. But then, you are unique… “What about my mother?” Call me a sadist, but I simply have to do this, it’s too much fun.

Her eyes wide with apprehension, she said, “Well, she won’t be too happy…”

“Wouldn’t she?”

For an instant, insecurity flickered over her face. “Well, no, considering…”

“Considering what, Miss Granger? Considering that you seem to get along splendidly when I’m not in the same room?”

If that's how she’ll always look when she’s afraid I might be angry, then Merlin help me—I will never be able to be angry with her. Her lower lip… look how it trembles… don’t kiss her now, Severus, don’t kiss her now…

She swallowed, hard, and then once more. Her eyes grew suspiciously bright. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have…I really didn't mean to…to make fun of you. I just wanted for your mother to end the charade, as I didn’t feel it was my place to tell you. You must be furious…”

To his own surprise, he wasn't. He didn't feel ridiculous, or angry, or even annoyed. Miss Granger, what a relaxing effect you are having on me… “I don't think so. But just to make sure, we might try another kiss. A mere test, you know.”

“Scientific,” she said, her lip still slightly quivering. But the desperation had left her face, and a smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Entirely,” he confirmed gravely and pulled her close again.

**°°**°°**

“How have you been, darling?” The Boy Who Lived asked his loving wife, tracing his finger along her thigh. “No need to ask whether you missed me,” he added with a grin and a movement of his head indicating the trail of clothing that ran from the bed towards the entrance door.

“Not bad, all in all,” she said. “Listen, Harry, I have to tell you something.”

“We’re having a baby!” he exclaimed, eyes a-light.

“No,” she laughed, “Not yet. I thought it was clear that I wanted to finish my studies first.”

“Of course, and I don’t have a problem with waiting for another year. I just thought it might have… well, happened, and I certainly wouldn't have been angry.”

“These things don’t just happen, Harry. Not with the potion I’ve taken.”

Speaking of potions… she didn't feel so convinced anymore that she had done the right thing. This morning, her mother had given her a terrible tongue-lashing about squandering money that wasn’t her own. Three hundred galleons weren't a trifle… of course, Harry had enough money; his, no their, Gringott’s vault was so stuffed with coins that there was hardly any place left to stand on. But all the same… And for Snape to boot…

“So what did you want to tell me, love?” he inquired.

“Um… is there anything I could do to make you really, really angry with me?”

He looked at her in surprise. “Gin, what's got into you? The only time I ever saw you that subdued was when you confessed you had invited the Dursleys to our wedding, and even then I wasn’t angry. Well, not for long anyway.”

“Mmh… yes, that was bad. But seriously: is there anything—”

“I don’t think so, Gin, I really don’t think so,” he said, pulling her closer. “I’ve done lots of really stupid things in my life, so who am I to judge?”

That sounded promising, she thought. “Okay, so let's put your magnanimity to the test. First, I spent three hundred galleons.”

He frowned at her. “You know that I don’t care for the money,” he said, “So what’s the big problem? As long as you spent it for something you liked…”

“Well, yes, in a manner of speaking. I certainly want Hermione to be happy, so the answer is yes. Definitely.”

“Hermione? How does she come in? Her birthday is more than a month away! What did you buy her, anyway?”

“Snape.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I bought her Severus Snape.”

“Are you sure I shouldn’t call the mediwizards, darling? I heard that they have very nice apartments at St. Mungo's.”

So she told him. Harry's eyes grew larger and larger.

“You know that Ron is going to murder you, don’t you?” he said, when she had finished.

“Harry, not even Ron, pigheaded as he may be, can still bear Snape a grudge! It's been three years since you graduated, there was the war, Snape has proved his value and his courage often enough!”

“That is not the problem, my darling,” he said, patting her derriere, “He's going to kill you because he's in love with Hermione.”

“Then what’s he doing in Africa?” she asked sensibly. “If he thought she’d be waiting for him until he returns he is an idiot, Harry. He's my brother, and I love him dearly, but not only is it egoistic, not to say arrogant, to expect such a thing, I’m also convinced that he and Hermione aren't right for each other. She'd reduce him to tiny little crumbs within a month, and they’d hate each other.”

“Basically, I agree with you. She's too bright and too serious for him. They make wonderful friends, but a relationship or marriage would lead them right into a catastrophe. Although I must say that I have my doubts about Snape as well… I mean, he has changed, I saw him at Hogwarts when Albus asked me to come and referee their last Quidditch match. He was civil, he didn't fight with Sirius, and he even smiled… Who knows. Besides, I got better fish to fry right now than to think about Snape's love life. My own, for example…”

**°°**°°**

Cassandra Snape was enjoying her walk through the grounds. All in all, she thought, things weren't going too bad. Hermione was a very likeable girl, and if she had needed any further proof for the brilliance of her mind, the conversation between Hadrian and Miss Granger would have convinced her. She was well-mannered and of very agreeable temperament. Certainly a match for Severus, but not too strong-minded to be hard with him where he didn't need it. Yes, those two might get along splendidly, provided they succeeded in clarifying the awkward situation that had arisen this morning. A little kiss, maybe…

Probably she would seek him out in his laboratory, or rather in the library? No, rather the laboratory, after all she must get her tutoring. Severus, please be sensible, just this one time! I warned her off apologizing, I pointed out how dangerous it might be, so I suppose she will do it. Warn a Gryffindor, and he’ll rush right in, before you can even finish your sentence. I just hope you’re interested enough to accept her apology. And lucid enough to see that she didn't want to hurt you… I wish I were an animagus, so I could change into my animal form and spy… just to make sure… Knowing my luck, I would probably be a tiger and frighten her to death, if came wandering into the laboratory.

But then, she had an idea. If they were really in the laboratory, she might have a look through the windows. No, it was too ridiculous. Not to mention embarrassing. Cassandra Snape, aged eighty-seven, one of the most prominent members of the British wizarding society, grande dame extraordinaire, kneeling in the grass to spy on her own son, to see whether he was able to get himself a girlfriend? They might see her… well, no. If they were fighting, they would not look upwards to the windows, and if they were kissing, they would look even less. It could be done…

“After all,” she told herself, “you have a reputation for being eccentric. So why not live up to it?”

She was already near the house and quickened her pace. The laboratory windows were in the south and east walls, but those walls were three feet thick—she could peer inside and maybe even open one of the windows, just an inch or so, so she could listen… just for a moment, to make sure…

Crouching down on the grass, careful to remain hidden behind the corner, she glanced inside. Nobody there. But she couldn't see the whole room, so maybe they were just standing in the part that was out of her view… she drew her wand and whispered, “Alo—”

“Mother,” said a silky voice from behind her, “since when have you taken to cleaning the windows?”