Drumming Song

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"As I move my feet towards your body, I can hear its beat. It fills my head up and gets louder and louder. There's a drumming noise inside my head that starts when you're around. I swear that you could hear it. It makes such an almighty sound. Louder than sirens. Louder than bells. Sweeter than heaven and hotter than hell." (Drumming Song, by Florence and the Machine)

Despite her best intentions and Snape's best wishes, Hermione had gotten very little sleep the previous evening; it was becoming a rather disturbing pattern. After re-reading his letter for what felt like, and probably had been, the millionth time, she finally fell asleep, only to wake a few hours later to get ready for class. She walked down to the dungeons, accompanied by Harry and Ron, with a strange feeling of apprehension working its way up to her throat; it made her feel as if she would vomit at any second. The feeling was getting old, but this time, it was laced with the slightly giddy feeling she got whenever she remembered Severus' words. He wanted to be with her. She had no idea what to expect publicly from Severus that morning but figured he would most likely ignore her and let the awkward tension between them fester. Needless to say, Hermione was a little less than thrilled with the prospect of spending yet another class period struggling to stay calm with her professor in the room. However, they were making progress. He had agreed that they would need to have a serious discussion. She had been trying to get him to do that for weeks. At least this time, it would be voluntary on his part.

As soon as she was settled in the classroom, Hermione began working on the assignment written on the board before Snape even had a chance to look at her, fearing that any eye contact with him would break her resolve not to think of him and his letter. It seemed to be helping; she quickly felt the familiar tug of the pleasure she derived from academic success as she chopped and stirred her ingredients. In that moment, she almost forgot that the object of her affections was in the room with her. The nausea went away, and she was relaxed. She felt good. Hermione was so immersed in her work, stirring the cauldron in front of her relentlessly, that she didn't notice Snape's presence behind her until he reached to wrap his hand around her own and whispered darkly in her ear.

"Miss Granger, you want your potion to succeed, do you not?" The timbre of his voice turned Hermione's legs into jelly; how did she let him just sneak up on her like that? She struggled to support herself with one hand on the table next to them and appear unaffected by even his most innocent of words. But were they innocent? He had given her no indication of his intentions in his letter. Maybe she didn't know what she was getting herself into by starting something with Severus Snape. Did he know what his voice did to her? Was he trying to get this very reaction from her? At that point, Hermione didn't really care. She just wanted him to keep talking.

"Y-yes, Professor," she managed to stammer in response, just as his hand began to move over hers, guiding her in stirring the potion. Her breath hitched in her throat as she considered that every student's attention could very well be on her and Snape. She looked frantically around the classroom, her head turning wildly, until she was satisfactorily convinced that this wasn't the case. Surely, he wouldn't have been so bold in his actions while anyone was watching. He was the epitome of discretion. Hermione relaxed somewhat after this realization.

The man himself broke her concentration once more when he chuckled after seeing her paranoid reaction to his attentions. Her focus was brought back solely to him as he began to speak again.

"Then you should take care to practice more patience when you work. The full strength of a potion can't be forced out mechanically. You need to coax it out, develop its full characteristics with your reverent devotion. You should stir more slowly... yes, like that, Miss Granger. Romance the potion, if you will. I assure you that the results will be to your liking. I take it that I'll be seeing you this evening for dinner? I've decided that a change of venue might be welcome and appropriate, after spending so much time here. Albus thinks it's a wonderful idea, you know. He said that it was about time we celebrated your achievements, and I most readily agreed. What do you think he'd say if he knew what you really wanted to celebrate, Miss Granger?"

Hermione's mind was reeling as Snape continued to speak to her. She never would have expected anything like this from him. It was true that he expressed a desire for her, but his physical manifestations of it were scarce. He was so reserved around her. What caused him to change now? Was he trying to scare her? Make her rethink her acceptance of him? She was overanalyzing; she knew it, and it seemed as though Severus did as well. She was brought back to reality by his voice once again.

"Is this plan agreeable, Miss Granger?"

All Hermione could do was nod her head slowly in agreement. In fact, at that moment, she probably would have agreed to anything he asked. Having his answer, he left her alone with her assignment, breathless and in shock that he would stand so noticeably close to her with other students present. Hermione could think of it as nothing less than a close call.

She quickly gazed back down into the liquid simmering beneath her hand, her face flushed from more than one kind of heat. Snape was right; her potion was glowing just a little bit brighter when she turned it in at the end of the lesson. She moved away from his desk to leave and noticed the laughter in his eyes as he observed her discomfort. She gathered her things and headed towards the door with Harry and Ron but quickly looked back at Severus, hoping that he would realize how much the words of his letter meant to her, no matter how much he had tried to distance himself from her with them. He discerned the meaning behind her earnest glance and nodded silently in response as Hermione was whisked out the door by her two friends, who were eager to get out of the dungeons as quickly as possible. It appeared as though things were going to be just as difficult as she imagined.

*******

Hermione stood in her room about an hour before her dinner with Severus, staring at her wardrobe.

"Why didn't I bring anything remotely attractive to school?" She berated herself as she tossed her uniform, jeans, sweatshirts, tee shirts, oversized sweaters, and sensible shoes aside. "Oh right... because I didn't really plan on coming to school to seduce Professor Snape, let alone go on an actual date with him."

Within the context of their "social experiment," Hermione didn't exactly know what to call their dinner. She chuckled at the thought of him referring to it as some sort of individualized test observation or associate meeting. Regardless, they were going to dinner away from Hogwarts. They were going to talk, presumably about things unrelated to her independent study. In her books, it was a date. Hermione continued to muse to herself as she ransacked her closet and dresser, looking for something suitable for the evening. Only after all of her clothes were strewn about the floor, a thought struck her.

"Damn... Well, I guess I'm not taking Transfiguration for nothing. I'll just fix something up to look semi-decent." Although others may have called Hermione crazy for talking to herself while alone in her room, she found that it significantly calmed her nerves. However loath she was to admit it, Hermione was incredibly nervous for that evening's dinner. She desperately wanted things to go well, for there to be some semblance of normalcy between her and Severus.

She continued to sift through the piles of clothes that now engulfed her room until she found one of the unnecessary sundresses that her mother always insisted on sending with her to school. She could hardly believe she was finally going to use one after the five years she spent convincing her mum that they were just wasting valuable packing space that she could have filled with more books. She hung the dress on the back of her closet door next to the pair of shoes she decided were somewhat suitable for Transfiguration and stepped back as she envisioned what she wanted them to look like. Hermione closed her eyes and muttered a few well-timed spells, opening her eyes after she felt the magic leave her wand.

"Perfect."

She slipped into the dress and smiled proudly at her reflection before throwing her cloak on over it and taming her unruly curls into a somewhat manageable twist. She walked towards her fireplace, threw in a handful of Floo powder, and stepped into the green flames as she screamed, "Severus Snape's study!"

She recovered quickly after being launched out of Snape's fireplace and smiled as she noticed the pile of pillows he had placed there to break her fall. She called out to alert him of her presence, in case he wasn't fully prepared for her arrival, and sat in his more than comfortable leather chair to wait for him. She sighed contentedly as she closed her eyes before a familiar baritone drawl addressed her from across the room.

"Enjoying yourself, Miss Granger?" he asked as he walked towards her, slowly noticing how she seemed to relax at the sound of his voice. He smirked inwardly as he remembered their morning conversation.

"Oh, very much so... Professor."

Something about reclining in Snape's chair waiting to surprise him with her rather provocative choice of apparel, all while using his proper title, excited Hermione to no end, and she raised her head to look at him. The view she found drained every ounce of confidence her mind or body had ever known. She knew she was staring but couldn't help it, entirely entranced by the man before her. He was leaning against the mantle of his fireplace in what Hermione noticed to be much more form-fitting black trousers, with the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to the elbows and enough buttons undone from his collar to be deemed slightly inappropriate for work. His appearance was simple and clean, effectively displaying the body the billowing robes of his daily wardrobe hid.

"Severus, you look fantastic. I mean, your teaching attire certainly suits you... but... God." Hermione found herself lost for words as she sat upright in the chair, suddenly nervous and self conscious under his gaze. She certainly hadn't intended to tell him how wonderful he looked. She had already let her guard down significantly in Potions that morning and didn't want to give him yet another glimpse of just how much he affected her. No doubt the Slytherin in him would somehow find a way in which to use it against her. She stared down at her hands when she felt him move closer to her and noticed that they were slightly shaking.

"Yes, well, there's no way I could possibly teach with you ogling me through the entire class; you'd never be able to complete an assignment, and believe me, I wouldn't enjoy it. Also, as you're well aware, I have no desire to present myself in a remotely attractive manner to my students; I prefer to enforce an atmosphere of fear and silence. Shall we be off, then?" He took her hand, helping her out of the chair, and instructed her to hold onto him as they suddenly Apparated together from the castle. The instant they arrived, Hermione turned to him in astonishment.

"Wait... We just... but you... in Hogwarts: A History..." Hermione stammered, completely frustrated by her hindered ability to construct coherent sentences with Severus near her.

"Hermione, calm down. Dumbledore and I can both Apparate in and out of Hogwarts. It seemed a natural exception to make, considering there are some evenings that I'm not physically able to travel back to the castle after my meetings with the Dark Lord," Severus explained as he stroked her back softly, knowing that any mention of his meetings with Voldemort discomforted her.

"Oh, yes. Well, I suppose that does make a great deal of sense. It appears, then, that you and Dumbledore have made Hogwarts history. Well done, Severus," she mocked, in an attempt to prove to herself that she wasn't as completely awkward that evening as she had imagined.

As they ventured further down the dimly lit street, Hermione realized that she actually was every bit as awkward as she imagined, having to practically skip in order keep up the pace that Severus' long strides set for them. Her left hand unceasingly darted in and out of the pocket of her cloak as she battled with herself to garner the courage to grasp his hand within hers as they strolled towards their destination. She didn't know if Severus was the hand-holding type, but some innate sense told her that he wasn't. Ultimately, she decided that it would be less embarrassing to not touch him at all and resigned herself to follow him blindly to their destination in silence, hoping that she would at least get a good meal out of their date.

Hermione's mind corrected itself immediately, remembering Severus' insistence that everything that occurred between them was a part of his "social experiment." It wasn't a date. She cringed as she thought of the issues she must have, still being attracted to someone who clearly stated his aversion to anything romantic. Wasn't that what she wanted? Someone romantic to sweep her off her feet? Hermione hardly knew anymore.

Suddenly, she looked up, noticing that Severus was no longer beside her. She turned around to see him several paces behind her, stopped in front of a lovely restaurant that shone like a beacon in the midst of the twilight's darkness. He raised a questioning eyebrow at her, which only heightened her mortification and caused her to become even more agitated by the way the evening was progressing.

"Severus, you don't get to look at me like that. Not now, not tonight. And before you ask or just let yourself into my mind, I'll be honest. I was thinking... about us. It upsets me, because I know that no matter what I ask you, you won't answer. So I apologize if I seem a little tense and distracted. I just don't know what to make of all this, and I'm trying to figure it out as best I can."

"Hermione," he replied softly as she retraced her steps back to his side. "I will answer any question you ask of me, if it is in my power. You know there are many things I cannot tell you, even if I desire to, at least until the war is over. I will be honest with you now, when at all possible. You have my word. It was never my intent to frustrate you."

"Now that I don't believe," she replied, laughing. "All we've done is attempt to frustrate each other as much as possible! You can't deny it, Severus. Your little stunt this morning in class all but deems my point infallible."

"Again, Hermione, you confuse my motives. I was merely instructing you in bettering your brewing skills. It's not my fault that you seem incapable of controlling yourself in my class."

Even from the way his eyes shone as he taunted her, she knew he was lying but didn't feel like arguing the matter with him now; it was getting cold, and she was starving.

"Keep trying to convince yourself of that, Severus. Now can we please just get something to eat?"

"As you wish," he answered, ushering her through the door and to the table he had reserved for them.

"The surprises never stop with you, do they, Severus? I never would have pegged you as the fancy-dinner-by-candlelight type." She smiled in amusement as she imagined him reading poetry in a room filled with roses and found it slightly unnerving.

"Nor would I. But as you would probably expect of me, my incredibly particular tastes also encompass the realms of the culinary. It just so happens that this establishment meets my standards. I took the liberty of ordering before we arrived. I hope you enjoy lobster." He stepped behind her to remove her cloak and hung it on the rack behind their table.

"It's one of my favorites. I'm really looking forward to it, Severus. So, I was hoping that our conversation this evening could be more informal, less work related. Would that be alright with you?" She stood rifling through her bag, trying to find her mirror, when she realized the silence that followed her question.

"Severus..."

She looked up to see him staring at her, entirely confused until she remembered what she was wearing. She had been right; the dress was perfect. Its halter straps revealed the toned plane of her back, while the plunging neckline showed enough cleavage to be considered only mildly inappropriate. The hem cut off right above her knee, subtly featuring the length of her legs. To top it all off, the dress was fashioned out of green satin, Severus' House color. She knew it would drive him crazy, considering that he had already exhibited his proclivity for the color in the table settings of the dinners he had prepared for them while she had been working on her potion. It showed off her best features, but left much to the imagination; it was classy and tasteful. From the way Severus' eyes raked over her body, she felt like a present wrapped in a giant, luxurious, Slytherin bow. Her complexion went florid as she sat at the table, more confident and self-conscious than she had ever been before.

She gave him a moment to collect himself before breaking the growing tension between them. "Severus, why don't you sit down so we can talk?"

"Oh, yes... Yes, of course. What would you like to discuss, Hermione?" he replied, shaking his head before sitting down as if he had just been arguing with himself.

"Oh, I don't know, Severus, anything really. I don't know what I'm allowed to ask you; I want to know whatever you can tell me. How did you end up where you are now?" Hermione wished she could have taken those words back the second they left her lips, and he winced. She knew the memories of his past were incredibly painful.

"Hermione, there are many things I cannot tell you about my past and many details I don't wish to share with you. It is not because I don't want to trust you but because I want to spare you the burden of my suffering. I have no doubt you would internalize my pain as your own, and I won't have you endure that for me. My childhood, not surprisingly, was an unhappy one. My father was not a nice man and constantly channeled the rage he felt into his treatment of my mother and me, something neither of us deserved. My mother was a brilliant woman but never had the courage to stand up to him, weathering his abuse in silence. The knowledge that there was nothing I could do to help her tore me apart; I would have done anything for her if I could have. The day I received my letter from Hogwarts was the happiest of my life. It was my freedom, the refuge from the anger which bound me to the house I would never call a home. But the happiness I sought was not to be found at Hogwarts, a consequence of my cursed love for..." Severus hesitated for a brief moment, closing his eyes slowly before continuing. "... Potions. Clearly, my luck hasn't changed. But that doesn't matter anymore. I would ask about your childhood, but seeing as you've spent most of it here at Hogwarts, with most of it being written about in the Daily Prophet, there isn't much I don't know."

Hermione sat in stunned silence, desperately thinking of something to say that would lighten the quickly darkening mood of their date. There would be time to discover his past later, after the war was won, but now was neither the time nor the place. In directing the conversation towards her, he had made it clear that he wished to leave his past alone.

"Severus, I'm so sorry. No one should have to go through something like that so young. But on a more lighthearted note, I've thought of a question that has always fascinated me. If you were given the choice, what form would you like your Patronus to take? I'm rather happy with my own, but I think it would be nice if it were a monkey. For some reason, I've always liked monkeys. You know, the little, jumpy ones. They're adorable." Hermione was babbling again and, for once, didn't care. She just needed to change the subject and decided to have some fun at his expense while she was at it to make things interesting. After all, he hadn't he had his fun with her earlier that morning?

"Well, I've never given it much thought, really. You certainly do overanalyze things, don't you, Hermione? I don't think I could imagine you with a monkey for a Patronus. It wouldn't suit you. A fox, on the other hand, would be perfectly appropriate, especially after that clever little trick you pulled with the Veritaserum." Severus smirked as he evaded her question, but Hermione wasn't quite ready to give up.

"Fine, then. If you get to come up with one for me, I can pick one for you: a bunny." She wished more than anything to be able to read his mind as Severus registered what had just happened.

"My Patronus most certainly would not be a bunny. Those vile creatures don't deserve such regard!"

Hermione giggled at his response, motivated to egg him on further. "But don't you love bunnies, Snape-y-kins? They're so cute and fluffy!"

"No, I do not love bunnies. Do I seem to be the kind of person who would enjoy things commonly labeled as cute and fluffy? Not only are those animals the source of one of the most horrendous Muggle clichés of all time, in reference to the magical world, they're not even cute; they're twitchy, for God's sake! And what's with all the fucking carrots? What do bunnies need such good eye sight for, anyway? The existence of their species is completely unnecessary, and I'm sure that people could get their cute and fluffy fix elsewhere, like with a pillow. Pillows are useful, bunnies are not. Bunnies are...did you just call me Snape-y-kins?" Severus stopped mid-rant to glare at Hermione as he fully absorbed her previous statement. If it was his intention to intimidate her, he had grossly miscalculated her reaction. He could do nothing but watch her burst into laughter. His belief that she should have been sorted into Slytherin was solidified; her penchant for revenge was significant.

"I did, Severus. I'm just trying out some pet names I'm considering. You know, lots of couples have them. Snape-y-kins is my personal favorite, but if you don't like it, we could always go with Sevviepoo or Snapelfluff or Snape-a-doodle or Severpuss or..."

"No. No pet names, Hermione. My given name will be more than appropriate. Oh, wonderful, our food has arrived." Severus delighted in the silence that accompanied their meal, as both of them were far too preoccupied with eating to carry on a decent conversation.

After they finished, Severus and Hermione Apparated back to the entrance of the castle, standing in silence, each waiting for the other to speak.

"I know I may have made tonight incredibly uncomfortable for you, Severus," Hermione began, "but I want to thank you for a fantastic evening. And thank you for being so honest with me; I know it was hard for you, and I appreciate it very much. I should be getting back to my room. I'll see you tomorrow, Severus." She began moving away from him, but he caught her by the hand and brought her back to him.

"You... you were beautiful tonight, Hermione; breathtaking. I should have told you that before. Hermione, you know how much I would like to be with you. Starting this with you is one of the most selfish things I've ever done. But I meant what I said about wanting nothing more than your happiness. Please reconsider your affections. I...I'm going to hurt you, you know," he said softly as his hand moved from her wrist to her cheek, wiping away the tears that were beginning to fall from her eyes. "I'm not going to be able to stop it, and it's going to kill me." The light left his eyes as the words he had been meaning to say all along spilled out.

"Severus, you wouldn't hurt me. You might not know it, but I do." She covered his hand with her own, gazing into his eyes, trying once again to see what was going through his mind.

"Hermione, you don't, you can't understand. I..."

"Shhh. It's going to be alright. You won't be anything like your father. You won't hurt me. I trust you."

"You shouldn't," was the only reply he could manage before Hermione leant forward to kiss him.

The kiss was just like their first, her lips seeking to give him the comfort he needed as the energy of her passion flowed into him. Severus felt as if he could have stayed in that moment forever but found himself wanting more, something different, something he knew he shouldn't have been thinking. He backed away quickly, angered by his own thoughts and emotions. He had prided himself on his ability not to care. He couldn't begin feeling now.

"Hermione, stop. We can't do this now. You'll only convince me of what I want. I'm not ready to be sure. I can't think when I'm around you; the effect you have on me is unexplainable. It's too much; you're going to push me too far. I want to give you so much more than I have to offer, but I'm only going to cause you pain. I know you don't believe me now, but in time you will. You will think I've betrayed you and hate me for what I've done. I would rather die than live with you thinking I've deceived you. If you're smart, you'll stay away from me." He leaned against the wall behind him, trying not to be swayed by the concern revealed in Hermione's face.

"Severus, you don't frighten me. I want to be with you, you want to be with me, and that's all that matters. We can make this work. We will make this work. You're not the man you think you are. When I look at you, I see so much more. Please don't fight me, just let me be a part of your life; that's all I want. I can handle myself."

"I need to go, Hermione. I'm sorry. I will see you tomorrow morning in class. Thank you for accommodating me this evening." With that, he Apparated to his chambers; he wouldn't have been able to bear turning his back on her and walking slowly away.

Hermione remained outside, alone and confused in the dark. No matter how much Severus denied it, she knew that he cared for her and couldn't understand why he was constantly pulling her in then pushing her away. She thought on what he had said as she climbed the staircases that led to the Gryffindor common room and her bed. She couldn't bring herself to believe what he had said, that he would hurt her. She couldn't understand why he continually brought it up, unless it was a means of scaring her away, but found herself wondering if there was some truth to his words.

Surely, he couldn't be so certain. Could he?