Life Is but a Dream

Chapter 30

Life Is but a Dream

Author's Note: I want to apologize to all of you loyal readers who have waited so long for me to continue this story. After seeing the eighth movie, I had a very hard time getting past Snape's death. Alan Rickman was too good at his job, and I walked away believing Snape was dead and he could only ever have loved Lily. It took many years and many many well written works of SS/HG fan fiction to convince me to keep writing. But now it has been so long, I fear the story will have been forgotten. So please forgive me for keeping you all waiting so long. It is still not complete, but I am about half-way between here and the finish line. With a little bit of luck and some encouraging reviews, I'm confident that it will NOT take me another four years to finish.

I want to thank my beta, JenGeorge, for sticking with me after all these years. I would also like to thank my other beta, SheBringsMeWater, for giving me a professional and more objective opinion. They both have added their insight and made it a much better story. SheBringsMeWater was a Quarter Finalist in the NaNoWriMo competition a couple of years back. Her novel "Parisian By Heart" is available for sale on Amazon.

Of course, it all belongs to the amazing J. K. Rowling. I make no money from the writing and sharing of this story.

The following Saturday evening found Kingsley and Snape sitting face to face in Kingsley's living room as he tried to get Snape interested in helping him open his dream restaurant.

"But what if the word gets out that I'm helping you?" asked Snape as he sipped the cognac that Kingsley had so generously provided. "Your business would dry up faster than an alcohol-based potion over a high flame."

"We'll just have to keep it a secret."

Snape rolled his eyes.

"And you were a spy for how long?" Kingsley couldn't resist a little poke. "Look, you don't have to set foot in the place. You just have to develop the potions. They can be delivered by owl. No one need ever know who my supplier is."

"Actually, I have an idea that might solve that problem," Snape admitted with a sly smile.

"If anyone can come up with a good cover story, you can."

"If anyone asks, tell them that your contributor is a published author who wishes to stay out of the limelight. The author of this new Potions text at Hogwarts fits that description. I imagine that many people will assume that he is your mysterious Potions expert. If you don't elaborate, they will be none the wiser."

"And if memory serves, I won't be lying. Are many people aware that you had several articles published in the trades when you were at Hogwarts?"

"You have an excellent memory, Kingsley. I'm impressed. But I imagine that most people have forgotten such trivia after all these years."

"Let's hope so, for both our sakes."

"Now that a suitable cover has been devised, what sort of potion effects did you have in mind?"

"Well, for starters," Kingsley elaborated with a flourish, "they would all have to be odorless and colorless, of course."

"Do I look like a mountain troll to you?" Snape barked with great irritation. "Of course, odorless and colorless."

Kingsley smirked. He so enjoyed yanking Snape's chain. "And all of the effects would need to be temporary so that if a customer likes the effect, he will keep coming back again and again."

"You want to get people hooked on your food?" Snape glared in alarm. "I refuse to make anything addictive. That would be completely illegal. One stint in Azkaban was quite enough, if you don't mind."

"Quite so." Kingsley raised his hand in a calming gesture. "But a pleasant and enjoyable effect does not have to be addictive for someone to want to experience it more than once. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I suppose."

"Just like a fine wine or rich chocolate."

"You still haven't given me any specifics."

"Well, I'm not sure. I don't know what the possibilities are."

Snape's patience was wearing thin. "Tell me what you want and I'll tell you if I think it's possible. Just keep in mind that I'll need time to devote to the developmental stage."

"How about some sort of energy potion like Pepper-up."

"Why would you need me to come up with something that already exists?"

"Pepper-up has a strong flavor. The trick would be to make it odorless and colorless."

"No problem. What else?"

"Perhaps something that would make someone funnier, give them a better sense of humor, make them the life of the party."

Snape shrugged as he swished the cognac around in his snifter. "It's possible, I suppose, although it would be more efficacious to dose all in attendance with a mirth potion of sorts."

"That would only be possible if the party happened in the restaurant." Kingsley furrowed his brow, deep in thought for a moment. "I know – how about a potion that would have a delayed reaction to take away the appetite for a few days to help the customer lose weight?"

"Only a moron would open a restaurant that would discourage people from eating."

Ignoring Snape's jibe, Kingsley forged ahead. He was on a roll, and even Snape couldn't douse his excitement. "Or something to help improve vision?"

"Why don't you ask me to find a cure for the common cold while I'm at it?"

"What about a penis enlargement potion?"

"Why would someone want to pay for a potion when they could use an engorgement charm for free?"

"I see your point. How about a penis stiffening potion?"

"An erectile dysfunction eradication potion?"

"If we give it a name like that, no one will buy it because they won't have a clue what it is."

"A Stiffy Potion, then." Severus snorted. "So much for the family dining experience."

"Did I say I want this to be a family establishment?"

"Sex sells better than anything else, I suppose."

"Actually, my goal is to make money." Kingsley rubbed his fingers against his thumb suggestively.

"Then why don't you skip this whole restaurant idea, become a Madam, and open a brothel?"

The soon-to-be-former Minister kicked back his head and let loose a deep guffaw. He slapped Snape on the shoulder. "And deprive myself of your pleasant company and congenial sense of humor? Never."

"Perhaps I could become one of your regular customers." Snape raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly in an effort to look suave.

Kingsley raised his own eyebrow, gave his long-time friend an appraising look, and let out a snort. "Somehow, I just can't picture you with a..."

"A whore?" Snape's voice dripped with disdain.

"I was going to say a 'lady of the evening.'"

"You needn't mince words with me, Kingsley."

"But," poked the Minister playfully, "I can imagine you with one particular bushy-haired, former student."

Snape's demeanor immediately swerved into hostility. "What is it with you people?! Does everyone at the Ministry assume that there is something going on between us? We are FRIENDS. End. Of. Story."

"Calm down, Severus." Kingsley placed a reassuring hand on Snape's shoulder, but it was instantly and summarily shrugged off. "We care about you. That's all. Believe it or not, there are still people in this world who would love to see you happy. Hermione especially. She cares deeply for you."

Snape's look softened. He took a slow and steadying breath before replying. "And it is because I return her feelings that friends are all we can ever be. Now, shouldn't we be focusing on the task at hand?" A touch of impatience had returned to his voice. "There are more subtle ways to enhance the sexual experience than a – what was it? Oh, yes, a Stiffy Potion, you know."

Kingsley shook his head in defeat. The man could turn his emotions on and off like a Muggle light switch. "Yeah." He pondered for a moment as he refocused his mind on the restaurant. "Could you come up with something that would perk up a lady's breasts?"

"A glamour spell can achieve that already."

"That only changes the appearance," Kingsley reminded him, "not the actual feel of the breast."

"You sound as if you speak from experience."

"None of us are as young as we used to be, Severus, not even you."

Snape pretended not to hear his host's comment. "Speaking of feeling... a heightened sensitivity of the nerve endings has the potential to do wonders."

"Heightened nerves? Could you localize the effect?"

"Perhaps. I would need time to experiment."

"Well, if you need a pair of guinea pigs for that one, just let me know. I'm sure I could talk my wife into sacrificing herself in the name of science, especially if I sacrificed with her." Kingsley laughed heartily as he conjured the scene in his mind.

Snape cringed as a similar scene invaded his vivid imagination. "We could banter ideas about like this for hours, and as much as I enjoy your company," he drawled with just a hint of sarcasm, "I must admit that I have more important matters to attend to. Make me a list, and I'll see what I can do."

"Okay. If you don't mind, I'll ask a few friends for ideas. It might be good to get input from future customers."

Snape nodded.

"I should be able to get back with you in a few days, Severus."

"Just send me an owl," Snape said with a flip of his wrist as the two men stood, and Snape headed for Kingsley's Floo. "Oh, and thanks for the drink, old man."

"Anytime, Severus, anytime."

*****

Snape spent the remainder of the afternoon coming up with his own ideas on interesting and entertaining effects his potions could have on Kingsley's customers. He also researched ways to hide and counteract the more offensive flavors that some potion ingredients produced.

As he slid into the bed that night, he closed his eyes with a sense of anticipation that he had not felt in a very long time...

"Let's dine in tonight, shall we, love?"

Hermione's deviant grin gave her away. "Lie perfectly still." She rose up to her hands and knees and positioned herself over his body. "It's my turn now."

*****

Sunday morning Hermione awoke refreshed and... satisfied from the most exquisitely erotic dream she had ever experienced. She lay in bed staring at the floating dust specks as they danced in between the shards of sunlight that peeked through her blinds. She loathed the idea of getting out of bed for fear of losing the details of her perfect dream. But as she lay there recalling her other dreams of Severus Snape, she could still remember every detail. It was amazing, as if she had lived it. No morphing of forms or dissolving from one scene to the next, no impossible scenarios or unimaginable creatures. The dreams she had with her beloved professor looked and felt like real life. They were so real in fact that she knew she had climaxed twice last night. No wonder she felt so satisfied, so loved, so treasured.

How would she ever face him at dinner this evening?

***

Sunday afternoon found Severus knocking at Hermione's door under cover of his Disillusionment Charm. Hugo greeted him as usual and led him into the kitchen to see his mom and decide which potion they would work on.

Snape found Miss Granger wearing dark slacks and a long-sleeve plain white blouse buttoned up to her neck line. Her hair was simply pulled back at the nape of her neck, and she only had the barest of make-up on. But she was still the most beautiful sight Snape had ever laid eyes on. The warmth in her eyes as she turned to greet him was unmistakable. Just like the warmth he had felt from her in his dreams.

How would he ever make it through this evening?

He took a deep breath to regain a modicum of composure. Then he leaned in to kiss her lightly on the cheek.

"Right on time as always." She smiled up at him.

"Punctuality was essential in my previous line of work."

"Teaching?"

"Death Eating."

"Ah, yes, I imagine that Voldemort didn't like being kept waiting."

Snape huffed. "Tardiness was severely punished, and if you didn't show up at all..."

"Let me guess, you had better be dead or in hospital."

"Precisely." They both chuckled.

"Well, at least you can joke about it now." Hermione smiled wistfully and gazed into his eyes. She thought about his endless sacrifices and his current standing in the wizarding world thanks to those very sacrifices. The injustice of it all made her shudder. She knew he didn't like to lament about his past. As her mind cast about for a change of subject, Professor Snape saved her the trouble.

"Speaking of not showing up, where's Rose?"

"She said that she needed the Hogwarts library to finish her assignments, but I think she just wants to spend more time with her friends."

"Her loss!" Hugo thrust his own copy of the new Potions book into Professor Snape's hand and grinned. "So, what are we going to brew this time?" he asked with unbridled enthusiasm.

Although Rose's voluntary absence weighed heavily on all three of them, they let the matter rest and enjoyed themselves. Pepper-Up was the assignment for today, and Hugo pulled it off without any mishaps, leaving Hermione beaming with pride over the contents of his cauldron.

"Perhaps we should bottle this so I can take it to Madam Pomfrey in the morning," Hermione suggested.

"She always did need a constant supply of that particular potion. Hogwarts students were famous for burning the candle at both ends," admitted Severus. "I guess some things never change."

"You want to take my potion to Hogwarts?" Hugo's eyes grew wide. "Do you really think it's good enough?"

"I couldn't brew better myself." Severus smiled at the boy.

"Wicked! I'm actually good at something. Something magical. And I don't even have a wand yet!"

"I'm proud of you, son." Hermione mussed his hair. "You'll do fine at Hogwarts."

They all helped move the finished food into the dining room and enjoyed the meal. Then Hugo occupied himself on the computer while Professor Snape helped Hermione clean up. She had been watching him all through dinner. His delicate hand movements... his lips as he chewed and talked. Oh, how she wanted to feel those lips explore her body! She tugged hard at her high collar. She was thankful for the distraction of dirty dishes, and she decided that she should occupy her hands so he wouldn't see them shaking from the nerves that were now strung so tight they could snap at any moment. Oh, if only Hugo weren't here. She would have taken him right here on the kitchen table – consequences be damned!

As she stood over the sink, washing the pots and pans in the Muggle way, he couldn't help but covet her exposed neck. Even though her loosened collar still sat high, that special spot just behind her ear stood exposed. A few tendrils of hair had escaped their tie but not enough to obscure the view or, he imagined, the scent.

His voice had made her shudder in his dream last night. Would it work here, now, in the kitchen? He knew he shouldn't. Hugo was just in the next room. What would he think if he saw them? He resolved then and there that he wouldn't actually touch her, but he just had to find out.

Slowly, with a stealth honed from years of spying, Snape crept up behind Miss Granger and leaned down close to her ear. He inhaled slowly, deeply, blissfully enjoying the scent. "You could use magic..."

Suddenly, soap suds, hot water, a sponge and a blue china plate sailed into the air, and Hermione let out a shriek to wake the dead. The plate hit the floor and shattered as she spun and grabbed Professor Snape's lapels. She glared at him with mock incredulity, her face covered in red blotches. "Don't ever sneak up on me like that! You scared the CRAP out of me!"

Snape tipped his head back and laughed a deep, relaxed, joyous laugh, and wrapped his arms around her in a light, comforting manner. When their eyes met, they were both smiling. "I apologize. It won't happen again."

Just then, Hugo came running into the room. "What was that? I heard a scream and a crash?" He looked down at the shattered plate. "What happened?" He stared wide eyed at his mother wrapped in Professor Snape's arms. "Mum, are you alright?"

Snape awkwardly loosened his grip and stepped away. So much for romance. In a way, this little incident was a good thing. It broke the tension that had been building between them all evening. At least now, he could relax and be himself again.

"Professor Snape snuck up behind me and startled me, that's all, love." Hermione pulled her wand from her sleeve and repaired the plate, then she levitated it back into the sink. "No harm done." She used a still sudsy hand to ruffle his hair.

"Aw, mum!" Hugo ran back into the family room.

After quietly finishing the dishes, Miss Granger and Snape sat at the kitchen table and talked about the case. He filled her in on the information he had gathered from his interviews with various people. They came to the conclusion that Umbridge was looking more and more like the culprit with each new bit of evidence. But something in Snape's gut told him that there was more here than appeared on the surface.

Since they still didn't have enough to convict her, they would just have to keep digging.

As Snape got up to take his leave, he mentioned his meeting with Kingsley. As he did so, his delicious dream from the night before replayed itself in his mind. These dreams he had been having with Miss Granger were always so vivid. And his memories of them never faded. It was as if he were living two separate lives with her. In one he kept her at arm's length, in the other they found comfort, passion, and most importantly, love in each other's arms. He much preferred the dream reality and wondered with great angst if the two would ever merge.

His heart ached with the thought as he donned his traveling cloak. He stooped to give Hugo a hug. Then he rose and gazed into Miss Granger's hungry eyes. Oh, how he longed to claim her with his lips, his hands, his body.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly in another attempt to regain his control. But with the memory of his most recent dream right on the surface of his consciousness, he couldn't help but reach his hand up to her face. He kept his touch feather light, trying only to make contact with the peach fuzz on her cheek. It was almost more than he could bear.

Hermione felt her heart almost explode in her chest as Professor Snape reached up to caress her cheek. When his fingertips just barely grazed the surface, she inhaled quickly, and her eyelids fluttered closed. Just like that dream I had last night... that exquisitely real dream. Her hand rose up to join his, but he was already pulling away. Her eyes popped open as she silently begged him to stay, but he had already begun to disappear before her eyes.

The door creaked open just enough for him to slip through, and he was gone.

Outside, unnoticed, a rather large beetle clung to the window frame beside the front door, watching the scene play out.