Hades and Persephone

::clears throat:: Well, another chapter. I hope you all enjoy. Some of this is based on the Hades/Persephone myth, and I thought of it on my own...no infringement on anyone else who used Snape and Hermione as Hades and Persephone and wrote it in their wonderful stories.

Hugs to Shanastay for being a wonderful beta.

Chapter 18- Hades and Persephone

Hermione spent much of the afternoon and early evening trying to figure out what she should wear to such an auspicious occasion as an actual "date" with Severus Snape. She could dress down in Muggle jeans and a jumper. Or she could dress "up" like before in one of the still-transfigured dresses from Draco's wedding. After trying many different things on and transfiguring a few more articles of clothing, she felt awkward in everything she owned.

And she had one agonizingly large headache. The characteristic cramps and other vile symptoms had only made their appearance later in the afternoon.

It seemed fitting enough.

So, rather than choose anything too suggestive that would make the man overly aroused, as she was not planning on letting anything happen just yet, she ended up with a brown skirt and a fuzzy off-white sweater. It was still attractive enough, with the knee-length skirt and high slit in the side, but it also covered herself a little bit more on the top so that he would not get too many ideas while at dinner.

Not that she thought said "ideas" were going to be trouble.

It was a quarter past seven when she was rushing out the front gates, knowing that this was certainly not the way to impress Severus, in any relationship. Showing up late was something that seemed to grate on his nerves more than anything. It would usually do the same to her, too, but today she just did not care if she was a little late or not.

"It's about time," said his deep voice.

She stopped in her tracks, turning to her right to find him sitting on a stone bench there, arms crossed over his chest. Damn him and his unchangeable condescending ways. "You're lucky I even came."

"And what is that supposed to mean to me, Miss Granger?" he asked.

Hermione raised a curious brow. "Shall I go back to my chambers and not allow you entrance? And then you'll see what it should mean to you."

"You are very testy tonight," he said.

"If you are allowed to be testy, so am I," she said. "It works both ways."

He nodded his head slightly and appeared as though he were trying to suppress a smile from forming on his lips. "Shall we... Hermione?"

Hermione looked at his offered arm and had to do a double take, looking up at his face for a few fleeting seconds before back at his arm. She had never, ever expected him to extend such a simple courtesy toward her (or anyone for that matter) even if she were his date for the evening. Just the fact that he would do something only the perfect gentleman would do was astounding enough. But to have it extended toward her was something completely different.

She took the few steps over to him, sliding her arm between his and his body, resting her hand on the crook of his elbow. He seemed to let out a thankful sigh that she had accepted the gesture and relaxed the tenseness in his arm in such a way that the hold rested against his body now as it should.

"I didn't bring my wand," she said. "So be forewarned."

"You trust so much in me?" he asked.

Hermione looked up at him. "Shouldn't I?"

"No one ever has," he replied. "Why should I think people would start now?"

"There was never an instance that I didn't trust you," she said.

"Never?" he asked. "You never had any doubts about loyalty after... Dumbledore...?"

Hermione sighed, adjusting her hold on his arm as they walked. "For an instant, perhaps. But you had a chance to hurt Harry as he was throwing curses at you afterward. You didn't. You had your one chance after all these years of hating him and his father, to at least get one satisfying blow in. You didn't. That said more to me than anything else."

He grunted and shook his head, looking forward. She took the opportunity to look at his profile, noting that he seemed different. Not in a bad sense, either. He seemed relaxed, almost laid back in her presence, not as on edge as he normally was, or as impassive and nasty as he usually was.

Perhaps this was completely normal for him to be taking a woman out for dinner. It could have been entirely possible, and Hermione knew she should have never thought otherwise about him. Just because he was not what one would see as classically handsome, surely there were plenty of women out there that had found him attractive in other ways.

Merlin knew that there were Death Eater women out there just perfect for his often times sadistic nature. She had, admittedly, only been a student before, and he could have had many trysts before she even came to know him as a teacher, as well as after. He was a secretive man, after all.

As Hermione looked closer, though, she noticed that his jaw was clenched horribly tight, as though it were the only thing keeping him from showing what he really felt. It certainly belied his relaxed nature, especially when he swallowed harshly... one attribute of nervousness she had noticed him do only a few times before.

"Where are we going, Severus?" she asked.

"Away," he replied.

"Can't you just give me a straight answer for once?"

He shook his head. "Is it so difficult for you to understand that I may want it to be a bit of a surprise, Hermione?"

"N-no," she said. "Sorry. I just like to be prepared."

"Some mystery is good," he replied. He pulled her to the side of the road and proceeded to explain to her that where they were going required Side-Along Apparition, since she had no idea where she should be concentrating on. Before she even had a chance to change her grasp on him, she felt the familiar pull at her waist, a few odd swirls in front of her. When her sight came back to her, she glanced around quickly, the overwhelming scent of flowers finding her nose.

"Flowers?" she asked.

"The Kew Gardens," he said.

Hermione raised a brow of concern. "Muggle London, Severus? I am surprised."

"The gardens are closed to the Muggle world until the morning," he said.

"So we're breaking and entering?" she asked.

"You're a witch, Miss Granger," he said flatly. "And when has anything as inconsequential as locks or rules stopped you from doing something?"

"I suppose you're right," she said, looking around the dark grounds again. From the scent of the air, she would have guessed they were somewhere around roses, but she was uncertain until he drew out his wand and waved it about, charming the bushes and trees around them to ignite in soft yellow light. It was not candlelight. Actually, it looked more like millions of tiny lightning bugs giving them the light.

"I thought we were going to dinner," she said.

He chuckled. "So little faith."

"You mean to tell me that you, of all people, planned a picnic?" she said as he extracted a small basket from his frock coat. This certainly was not a date she would have ever thought she would be on with Severus Snape. Maybe, if they did venture into Muggle London, they could have had dinner and then gone to the Tower of London. Or perhaps he could have taken her to some place with a grim, but interesting, past. That was what she had expected. She could have never expected something so thoughtful, nor so... romantic... from a man like him.

"You don't like it."

That was said in more of a statement than a question or an insult, even. And he sounded particularly sheepish about it. Who the bloody hell was this man standing in front of her? Hermione knew she deserved it. She had been the one who started this whole thing with her insatiable curiosity, and wanted to get to know him better. Here he was, truly trying his hardest to show her a decent time without being nasty or brooding, and there she was questioning him and his motives.

"No, no!" she said quickly, placing her hand on his arm to stop it from reaching for his wand to end the charm on the plants. "Severus, I love it. I just didn't expect it from you."

"You haven't expected a lot of things from me," he replied.

Hermione nodded. "Perhaps I should not judge a book by its cover."

The corner of his mouth lifted in a small, lopsided smile.

"Shall we sit?"

Hermione followed his lead as he drew out what looked to be a small towel and charmed it to grow much larger so that they could both sit down. She sat down carefully, curling her legs up at her side and leaning her weight over onto the palm of her hand in the most ladylike fashion she could manage.

He followed her, sitting just far enough away that he would not have to touch her. She thought it odd after the past few times around him, pushing himself on her, that he would not sit closer, but only shrugged it off.

She decided she should not have any preconceived notions about him, or what he was really like. He was not going to let her know anything about him or do anything unless he damn well pleased to do so.

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Severus sat quietly, watching her in the glowing light of the small grove.

He really had no idea where he should go from here. The book he had read with ideas for dates had only gotten him up to this point.

Right now he was just thankful he had made it this far, and had chosen a decent place to go. What would she say if she knew that this was the first evening out with a woman he had ever orchestrated? Or that she was even the first female that he had ever found the courage to ask out to dinner? She would probably laugh at him in disbelief. She had already done it when she found out that they were to have a picnic out here this evening; what would stop her from doing it again?

He had never been so nervous in his life, and he found that funny. Not only had he faced things and lived through things so horrible that some people would never be able to imagine, but he lived through two wars and being a double agent. Day in and day out for years, he had the constant threat hanging over his head that someone would be there to kill him because his secret was out. He had to worry then.

After a while, though, it had not weighed so much on his mind. This date, however, brought the first time he had ever been asked to kill someone by the Dark Lord himself back into harsh reality. He was frightened beyond anything he had felt before. And what he found more frightening was that he was comparing a date with Hermione to a murder.

He felt like an awkward teenager again. No, not a teenager. He had never really grown out of his social awkwardness, especially around women. The awkward teen had only grown into an awkward, lonely man.

Why had he even asked her to come? And why the hell was she playing along with him? Certainly all those things she said last night, allowing him... teasing him... was all an act? There was nothing, this beautiful, young, powerful witch could possibly see in him... the old, sallow-skinned Greasy Git.

She brushed a few strands of hair that had fallen in her face behind an ear, the gold in the honey-brown hair catching the light, and turned her face to look at him. "Are you going to feed me?"

Smooth, Snape. Really smooth.

He enlarged the basket of things to its former size. He hoped the house-elves had made something decent enough. Inside, it looked like a pretty simple dinner. Bread, cheese, fruit. And a red wine.

Very French, he thought.

She followed his gaze and looked into the basket, helping him remove the things inside, stopping for a moment to look at him questioningly.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Dobby packed this for you," she said.

"How do you know?"

Hermione chuckled and pulled out a large round fruit. "Pomegranate. My favorite fruit. He keeps them fresh for me because they're so hard to find in Scotland. Did he pack this for you?"

"He did." He nodded. There was no point in lying now.

She smiled and set the hard fruit aside. He busied himself uncorking the bottle of wine and pouring it into the pewter goblets he found in the basket. Hermione pushed the wicker contraption away, arranging the packages of food and then letting out a long sigh. When everything was settled again, and he had passed her a goblet of wine, he felt more at ease with her. She was not going to laugh him. Perhaps she really did care for him?

He reached over and picked up the hard fruit, considering it carefully. "I've never had one before. I've used it in certain potions before, but never had the fruit."

Hermione glanced at his hand. "They're messy, but when I was on holiday with my mother and father in Greece, I fell in love with them."

"I find the connotations of the fruit oddly unsettling, though, in our present situation," he said.

She chuckled and met his eyes. "I hadn't thought of that until now."

"Does it bother you?" he asked.

"Does what bother me?"

"The myths surrounding this fruit?" he asked. "It's the fruit Eve supposedly gave Adam in the Bible."

Hermione grinned. "Why would they? I think the Greek myth is very fitting, though."

"I did not kidnap you," he said flatly.

"No," she said. "But you're as close to Hades as I'm going to get."

"Persephone would not eat, though, because she hated him so," he replied.

"But she would eat the pomegranate," she said.

He sighed and appraised the fruit carefully. "They say Hades giving Persephone the seeds and her eating them are the act of their eternal consummation."

She blushed deeply at that and looked away from him. After a moment, she looked back at him, straight into his eyes. "It's a good thing I don't have a mother who will not allow the change of seasons if I don't return to her."

Did that mean what he thought it did?

"Hermione," he began, but paused when she shifted closer to him.

She sighed, "This isn't some dream or some horrible joke or bet on my part, Severus. This is real. I am real. And as insane as I must be to have ever started considering this with you, I am considering this, and I don't really care what others might think."

He was silent, looking into her brown eyes, trying to ascertain if she was really telling the truth. What he found there was not what he had hoped. He had hoped he would see the lie that she was spinning, so that he could push her away and never speak to her again. What he did see was the truth of her words, right down to the Gryffindor passion there in her expression.

"Don't just stare at me, Severus," she said quietly. "You act as though no one has ever said this to you."

"No one ever has," he replied bitterly.

Hermione smiled softly and whispered again, "Then they were foolish."

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One more author note, to keep in mind for the future:

Most SS/HG stories I read, Snape is certainly not a virgin, and he is also nearly always quite experienced in the ways of sexual goings on. Sure there may be fanon 'facts' to back up Severus raping Muggles and Mudbloods when with other Death Eaters, but I don't think he would have ever done that even in JKR's wildest dreams. I think, being the secretive, socially awkward man that he is, he would have had limited, if no, sexual experience at all. That notion is what I will be operating on from here on out.