24: Rung Eleven – Her

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24: Rung Eleven – Her

September 30th, 7:05 pm

I'm sitting on the edge of my settee when a knock sounds at the door.

Thank Circe he got my owl!

Running a nervous hand over my hair, I stand to open it.

"Professor Snape. Please, come in."

His nod is small, his expression neutral. "Professor Granger."

As he moves past me in a swirl of black robes, I take a deep breath.

Right. You can get past this. Awkwardness is to be expected.

Turning towards him, I find he's staring at the photo of me with my parents that rests upon the mantle.

"Thank you for agreeing to postpone our meeting until this time. I'm afraid the party for Tonks went on far longer than anyone expected, and I wanted to run a few more calculations before we spoke."

A deft arm movement spins the heavy robes from his body as he spins to face me before moving to hang them on the coat rack. "The results from St. Mungo's are too critical to put off for any longer. In fact, I was willing to make any necessary sacrifice in order to meet today."

"Yes. Yes, of course."

Especially with the news I have!

I move to the settee and gesture to the temporary table I'd transfigured to sit in front of it. "I've correlated the results you sent me yesterday with the earlier data collected by Healer Shoredom."

He settles beside me to my left, not overly close or distant, and I catch a hint of vetiver from his movement.

It's enough to speed my heart.

Fighting to keep my voice steady, I begin. "It actually appears to be for the better that we held off on our research a bit because we've been able to obtain two months' worth of control-group data. Using the questionnaire, we now have a very good idea as to the baseline relief offered by regular Wolfsbane Potion."

I stop and shuffle through the stack of parchments directly in front of me to pull out the appropriate results. They're third from the top, but I fumble about a bit hoping he'll fill the silence.

He doesn't.

Why isn't he saying anything?

"It's good that we collected data for two full moons," I repeat, "because there are small variances in the subjects' results. With only one month's worth of data, we wouldn't have been as sure of the precision of the answers – after all, we're dealing with people's subjective assessments, not something we can accurately measure with an instrument. The extra month allows us to say that the results may vary slightly from person to person, but that each person remains consistent in their assessment."

"Good – I would hate to think that our delay brought nothing of value."

He speaks! And he doesn't sound angry or defensive, thank the goddess.

He gestures towards the parchments. "What exactly are the baseline numbers?"

"For now we can look at the averages for the group. Physically, their transformation-pain level was seventy-one percent out of a highest level of one hundred, and their transformation-discomfort level seventy-seven percent. So they're still experiencing a great deal of both using traditional Wolfsbane. Mentally, they understood that they are human fifty-seven percent of the time and could think rationally forty-nine percent of the time. Therefore, Wolfsbane is a bit more successful in this area, but there's still a great deal of room for improvement."

He looks directly at me. "And how does this correlate with the latest findings from Healer Shoredom?" Even his voice seems a bit more interested now.

As he should be! This project is already a success!

Glancing down at the numbers I double-checked only this afternoon, I can barely contain my joy. "We'll have to collect more data over the next few months, but, Severus, it looks so promising!"

As I turn fully towards him with a large smile, I catch him watching me intently, a slightly surprised look on his face.

"Do go on."

"Well, look here." I hold out the parchment with my right hand so that it hovers between us, and he grasps the other edge with his left to steady it. Using my left hand to point, I say, "See – it's fabulous! With our Wolfsbane variant, pain and discomfort are down to sixty-three percent and fifty-nine percent respectively. And their ability to remember they're human rose to seventy-one percent with rational thought reaching sixty-seven percent. These are significant changes, and we haven't even altered the incantations yet!"

Our reputations will be made with this!

Still holding the parchment between us, he nods and raises his right index finger to tap at his lips.

How I've missed that gesture!

And it has nothing to do with the lips or the fingers involved?

I squirm a bit as my knickers dampen. And when he turns more fully towards me, I'm not sure which is more responsible for the thrum of warmth to pass through my body – the brush of his knee against mine or his smile.

As at our last research meeting of three months ago, the smile transforms his face. Yet there are small changes as well. His eyes seem less haunted. Caught in his gaze, I'm suddenly physically aware of his presence. His body hums with energy, as it always does, but it has a ... a healthier feeling to it ... somehow less ... anxious, less knotted.

As if he's somehow even more alive.

My physicality reacts with a shiver as the fine hairs rise along my arms and across the back of my neck.

His smile shades slightly into a smirk and then he's gesturing at the parchment. "But these calculations are not predictions of the future; therefore, you cannot be using Arithmancy."

"You're right; I'm not. It's Muggle maths – statistics. I couldn't find anything of the sort in Arithmancy or Astronomy for comparing sets of numbers to determine improvements – it's as if such research has never been done before."

Eyebrow quirked, his voice sounds amused. "I think you will find that the Wizarding world is infamously slow to change. Most tend to accept the status quo instead of striving for true innovation, and unfortunately, researchers are not immune to suffering from such a bias." He pauses to tap thoughtfully away at his reddening lips while his left hand drifts towards his lap, pulling the parchment and my hand with it.

Once the backs of my fingers brush the top of his right thigh, I pull my hand away. But not before the contact causes a flash of tingling to sweep straight to my core. None of this is helped by the fact that the fingers of his left hand veritably stroke the now resting piece of paper.

When he turns his intense gaze upon me again, it takes a few extra seconds for his words to register. "Your work on solving large numbers of multiple equations is going to revolutionize Arithmancy. I would expect that the process will eventually be denominated in your favor since you have succeeded in far surpassing anything Marchwood's work could have accomplished."

Severus thinks that highly of my work?

My shock must be showing because he chuckles a bit before answering, "You must know that I find you highly intelligent, Hermione."

The expression on his face makes my already speedy pulse erratic.

Goddess!

I jump up to pace in front of the fireplace. "Severus, I can't do this anymore! As crucial as these results are, as important as this meeting is, I can't ..."

We may actually be able to have 'our' version of a happy relationship, and even if we can't, we're not going to be able to work together if we don't sort through this.

So do it, Granger!

He's silent, watching me, always watching me these days with such intensity in his eyes.

I stop and turn to face him. Biting at my lower lip nervously, I'm not really aware of my action until I notice how markedly he's staring at my mouth. "Severus, I know."

"You know." His voice is flat.

"I know what I want us to be."

He quirks an eyebrow, but the rest of his face seems stiff.

I let it out of me in one breathless rush. "I want us to be more than colleagues."

He remains frozen for stretched moments, then, almost faster than my brain can process, he's in front of me.

My world narrows to a dizzying swirl of black wool and pale skin.

His hand hovers, not yet touching. Voice low, rumbling, he asks, "Hermione, are you certain? I ... need for you to be certain."

Sliding one hand up to hook behind his neck, I smile. "I'm more than certain, Severus. I'm utterly positive." I pull him the rest of the way to me.

As upon the previous two occasions, the kiss begins softly, teasingly, lips skating over each other to retreat slightly and return time and time again. One of his hands spreads across my lower back, and I feel the tips of his fingers dig into me slightly, pulling me closer. The other tangles in my hair, holding my head without hindering movement. I wrap my free arm around him and enjoy the feel of my breasts pressed tightly to his chest.

Then I open my mouth and brush him with my tongue so that his comes out to stroke mine. Fire flies through me – a flame to my clitoris, which is beginning to demand stimulation. I whimper a bit and cant my hips towards him, feeling his erection against my stomach. His dark chuckle of pleasure shivers through me.

Circe!

I pull back and capture his dark eyes long enough to gasp out, "No ladder this time, no stone wall, or too-small settee – I want you, and I want you on a bed, Severus."