I Never Thought It Would Be You

Chapter 5: The Spirits of Lovers Past - 18 March 2004

By Pigwidgeon37

“Yes,” Hermione said, sinking into the depths of an armchair in Snape's quarters in the dungeons, “I definitely need a brandy now. For purely medicinal purposes.”

“Of course,” he said, winking at her. “Stay where you are, I’ll just get the glasses.”

Hermione snuggled against the backrest of her chair and gave the room a thorough look-over. Apparently, the last traces of Miss Lucy Herbane had been cleared out rather hurriedly. He had even changed the upholstery of the chairs… Deep in thought, she let her fingers glide over the fabric. It was dark green velvet again, just like in old times… Then, her fingers encountered an obstacle, wedged between the right armrest and the seat. Hermione frowned and delved her fingers into the cleft. After a few seconds of struggle, she pulled out a…

“Oh!” he said, putting the tumblers on the table with a horrified look, “I wasn’t aware…”

“Pink thongs, Sev? She used to wear pink thongs? What horrible taste!”

“Well, yes,” he admitted, “I didn’t like them, either. But who cares about the wrapping when the contents are so edible?”

“ Sev, when exactly did you turn from a stern Potions Master into a dirty old man?”

“Oh, I don't know,” he said, laughing, and handed her a glass of brandy. “Maybe it was just some catching-up I had to do. And, speaking of dirty, you’re not exactly an innocent, Hermione, are you? How many lovers did you have?”

“When? Last week?” she asked pertly, letting the undergarment flutter to the floor.

“You know exactly what I mean. From the first to the last. How many? Cheers, by the way.” He raised his glass. “To chastity!”

Hermione snorted. “To chastity! I’ll tell you,” she said after the first sip, “if you tell me.”

He was swirling the brandy around in his glass. “That seems only fair. You start, though. Number one-who, when and how?”

“Oh, god!” she said, and giggled. “One more thing before we start: this is to remain absolutely secret, understood? Including the solemn promise to not take belated vengeance on any of the lovers.”

Snape leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs, the glass cupped in both hands. “That sounds terribly suspicious. But I promise. Go on, who was number one?”

“Oh, you’re going to hate this! Remus Lupin.”

“ Lupin? When? Where?”

“You remember your promise? No vengeance, no crusades?”

“Yes, of course,” he said irritably. “Don’t be irrational, I’m not going to flay him.”

She cast him a doubtful look. “If you say so… after he had returned, before Christmas in my seventh year. When we all believed Sirius was dead. It was more consolation than sex-he really needed it, poor man.”

“A Gryffindor pity-shag,” he said, shaking his head. “What a memorable first time.”

“More compassion than pity. And it wasn’t bad. Your turn, Sev. First time?”

“During the summer holidays preceding my sixth year. With… well, I’m not sure who exactly was first.”

Hermione's eyes went wide. “Would you care to explain?”

“Not really. But since you’re asking… we had all gone to the South of France, Lucius, Narcissa, Lucius’s cousin Drusilla and I. Drugs and lots of wine on the beach, complete with campfire. It was the early seventies,” he said apologetically.

“ Sev, that's disgusting!”

“I assure you that it wasn’t. Quite the contrary, actually. When you're finished with your act of puritan outrage, will you continue?”

“I can’t believe it! Did you and Lucius… I mean, did you…”

“Just a bit of groping, nothing more. We’re both straight.” She was still staring at him, open-mouthed. “Come now, Hermione! That was thirty years ago! Besides, you wanted to know.”

She closed her mouth and nodded, then took a deep gulp of brandy. “Give me another one,” she said, “I think I need it. Okay, number two. Ah, yes. That was during the week after the N.E.W.T.s, when Ron thought he might not be gay. Boy, was I sore the next day! He really tried his best, but it was really, really abysmal. Not something I particularly like to remember. Your second time?” She glanced at him and saw that his expression had become gloomy. His arms were forming a solid barrier in front of him, and he had leaned back into his chair and crossed his legs. “Sev? Anything the matter?” He merely shook his head, but remained silent. “Severus, what-” Then it dawned on her. Of course, he had joined the Death Eaters before his seventh year. They had talked about his past very often, but the memories resurfacing now couldn’t be pleasant.

Hermione put down her glass, rose and went over to him. Kneeling down next to his chair she held out her hand. “Sev, let’s end this game, shall we? It merely hurts you, instead of being fun. You’re my friend, and I love you, whatever you did so many years ago.”

Some minutes passed before he took her hand, brought it up to his face and kissed it. “I know,” he muttered. “And I’m sorry for having ruined your evening.”

“On the contrary, Severus, on the contrary. It was, and still is, a wonderful evening. And I’m glad to have you back.”