Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen...

Hermione stared at the clean sheet of paper and resisted the urge to just doodle on the page. What was the use? She'd been staring at it for half an hour, hoping for inspiration to strike. She felt her deadline approaching. Ginny and Molly would understand, but Fred and George would nag her incessantly, and she doubted that Molly would take too kindly to her killing the twins.

Her stomach growled, a victim of neglect. She still had yet to do any substantial grocery shopping, and the bite of roasted pork she'd had last night had done little to tide her over.

The telltale popping sound of Apparition destroyed what little concentration she had, and she pitied whichever Weasley had dared to interrupt her creative solitude. Hopefully, it was one of the twins. That way she'd be rid of one of them by the time her deadline rolled around.

She closed the notebook, disgusted with herself. Even after reviewing the notes for Harry and Ginny, she was still having a difficult time getting a grasp on it. She'd changed the outline so many times she didn't even recognize the characters.

A soft knock on the door ended her pity-party, and she stood to answer it. She'd been expecting a Weasley, not a single-red-rose-toting ex-Professor. "Oh... hello." He swooped down, and she stepped aside to allow him admittance. She really had little choice. It was either stand still and let him kiss her or let him in.

"Are you all right?" he asked, stepping into the spacious living area and twirling the red rose between his fingers. "You opened your notebook half an hour ago, and you haven't written a thing."

"Are you spying on me?" She placed a hand on her hip in typical Molly-is-annoyed fashion.

Severus shoved the rose at her as if it would protect him. The fragrance of the bloom tickled her senses. "What do you think?" he returned, moving away and observing her new surroundings.

Of course he was. Spying is what he did best. It was in his nature. She should be angry with him, but she wasn't. After all, she didn't punish Crookshanks when he left the fruits of his hunt on her front step. It was his nature to hunt. She couldn't reprimand Severus for spying on her.

"Perhaps a restraining order isn't such a bad idea after all," she murmured defiantly.

Ignoring her comment, Severus moved about the room, fingering the dormant fireplace mantle as if checking for dust. Her traitorous libido couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked in the trousers and shirt he wore.

"Shush," she whispered softly.

"I didn't say anything," he replied, his opaque gaze capturing her cinnamon one.

"Never mind." She cleared her throat and moved toward her worktable. Actually it wasn't her worktable. It was more along the lines of a torture device. She'd lost count of how many times she'd banged her head on the blasted thing.

"You never answered my question. Are you all right?" Severus rested his arm on the mantle and waited for her answer.

The heat of tears prickled her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to stem the embarrassing flow. As if things couldn't get any worse. Now she was going to cry in front of Severus. She didn't know what was wrong with her. Perhaps it was the note of concern in his voice. Maybe it was her low blood sugar. Perhaps she was pre-menstrual.

Throwing her hands into the air, she sobbed. "I've lost it! I've been here for over a week, and I haven't written a bloody thing!" She grabbed hold of the notebook and shook it. "I thought this might help. It had my original outline in it, after all. But I've changed the outline of the story so much that I hardly recognize the characters anymore.

"It's pointless!" she wailed. "I'm washed out! I have permanent writer's block! What am I going to do? Fred and George have already started developing the ad campaign for this book! Molly and Ginny are waiting to proof the first three chapters, and I haven't even finished the first!" Tears of frustration flowed freely down her cheeks, tears that he dabbed at with his handkerchief.

Embarrassed, Hermione snatched the handkerchief out of his hand, quickly thanking him, and finished wiping her tears away. Her stomach growled. She hiccupped and tried to compose herself.

Severus gently extracted the notebook out of her hand and started to thumb through it. As he read over the pages, he walked into the sitting room and sat down. It took him a few minutes to get a grasp on what she was struggling with. The material was, of course, repugnant to him, seeing as the character was based on Potter, but he set his prejudice aside and attempted to help her. (Though he did have an exact copy of her notebook, he had not bothered to read this particular section.)

Hermione studied him as he read. He was dressed in trousers and a shirt that was buttoned up all the way. He looked uncomfortable. Why was he bothering with Muggle clothing? She'd grown so accustomed to seeing him in wizarding robes that she considered his current wardrobe as somewhat intrusive; however, he was handsome nonetheless. She shook the thoughts away, but new ones quickly followed.

He wasn't classically handsome. If she were to self-analyze her crush on him, she would have to admit to being a charisma junkie. He cut a dark figure... a mysterious figure... a dangerous figure. He was taboo on so many levels...older man, former professor, ex-spy, surly bastard.

She wanted him. It was just too bad that she couldn't keep him.

She had adopted an ostrich-like attitude regarding last night and his current presence. As far as she was concerned, last night didn't happen. The fact that he was sitting in front of her, cradling her notebook in his lap was a fluke, a nice fluke, but a fluke nonetheless. The clearing of his throat interrupted her musings.

"Is it possible that you are having difficulty with this story due to the fact that Potter and Miss Weasley are... not together anymore?" he asked, looking up from the notes and fixing her with a pointed stare.

The question was like being knocked upside the head, for it had been a neglected whisper in her mind for so long that she had literally forgotten about it. She jumped up and started pacing.

"If you approach your... method logically, you've written about Draco and Pansy, us, Lupin and Tonks, and Albus and Minerva... all couples who are together in one form or the other." Severus started reading again.

"But Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore..."

"Don't let their public or professional image dissuade you," Severus stated knowingly. "There are rumors that float between the portraits that they are secretly engaged. Of course, that rumor has been circulating ever since I attended Hogwarts."

"Really?" she gasped.

He nodded, abandoning her notes and watching her pace.

She stopped as if struck by inspiration. She strategically placed as much distance as she could between them. "We aren't together. I wrote The Darkest Magic well before... well... you know."

Setting the notebook down, Severus stood and stalked her. Hermione could see his intentions and countered his moves. She was not going to let him disrupt her head-in-the-sand attitude. For the first time since she'd arrived, she felt the familiar tingle of inspiration. She was on the verge of a breakthrough, and she couldn't let anything or anyone sidetrack her.

"Though I am not blameless for our... rocky beginning, I do not feel that I have done anything... morally reprehensible in my pursuit of you."

She chuckled mirthlessly. "Somehow you associated with the concept of morality strikes me as odd. Not to mention the fact that you really shouldn't 'pursue' me. I'm not interested in a relationship... with anyone at this time." He continued to advance, and she raised her hand, hopeful that would discourage him.

Mindful that nothing ever stopped him, she turned her back on him and held the rose up to her nose. "Thank you for the rose. It's lovely."

She felt the heat from his body before she felt the contact. Severus ignored personal boundaries and embraced her from behind. The feel of his maleness against her arse made her gasp. Pushing her hair to the side, he pressed his lips against her neck. "It isn't as lovely as you."

Don't turn around! the voice of sanity shouted.

Turn around! Turn around! her libido begged.

The rasp of his tongue against her skin sent a shiver racing through her body. He cupped her belly and gathered the material of her shirt as though it had a mind of its own. She was determined to resist him, like James' determination to resist Virginia.

Hermione stiffened in surprise. Creative revelations were rare, and this one was no exception. The idea was like a wildfire during a drought, spreading with the help of dry kindling and favorable winds.

Harry had pushed Ginny away for her own good. In true Ginny fashion, Ginny had pursued Harry. Ginny had asked that Hermione not include that part of her and Harry's relationship on the book, but how could she not?

Ginny had known all along that people would find the real inspiration for Hermione's novels. She'd known that people would draw comparisons and didn't want to come across as desperate. That was it! In honoring Ginny's request, she had smothered the muse. The muse wanted the truth. It craved the excitement and the difference of this book.

"That's it!" she crowed, smacking Severus' hand down and forcing her way out of his embrace.

"That's it!" she repeated, practically jumping up and down as a hopeful surge of creativity pumped through her veins. "All this time, I've been wracking my brain, trying to make this book different? Instead of the hero pursing the heroine, why not have the heroine pursue the hero!"

"I wish," Severus grumbled beneath his breath.

Ignoring his reply and sidestepping his next attempt to corner her, she rushed to the table and shuffled her papers around. She sat down, grabbed a quill and dipped it into the well. There was something about the therapeutic scratch of the quill on paper that calmed her nerves.

Severus scowled at the obvious dismissal. Her epiphany had swept her away, and he had the feeling that if he tried to seduce her now, he would undoubtedly be hexed beyond even his wildest imaginings. His ego was seriously damaged. It was as though she had forgotten he was even there.

Tapping his finger to his chin, he walked into the small kitchen and perused the cabinets for something to eat. The first cabinet he opened contained a half-eaten box of cookies and an almost empty bag of potato chips. The second and third cabinet contained nothing. He opened the refrigerator and found three diet drinks that looked about as appealing as troll droppings. He was almost afraid to open the freezer. There was no telling what wasn't there... something edible... something nutritious. Closing the freezer door after finding the remnants of a chocolate bar and ice cream, he turned to study his lover.

Hermione continued to ignore him, seemingly lost in thought as she scribbled hurriedly. She wrote like she was afraid she would forget something. Perhaps she would benefit from a Pensieve. He noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes and the way she bit her bottom lip in concentration. She looked like she'd lost weight.

His scowl turned into furious displeasure as realization dawned on him. She'd obviously been neglecting herself. Why hadn't he noticed earlier? He circled her, wanting to get her attention and chastise her for such foolishness, but she was oblivious to his presence.

She was a well-to-do witch, for Merlin's sake! She certainly could afford a house-elf. He shook his head and tsked. So, this is what his life was going to be like...left to his own devices for hours on end while she wrote her next great novel.

It was definitely something he could get used to. He smirked and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I'll be back."

She waved her hand as if trying to wave off a fly and mumbled to herself.

Severus stepped back and Disapparated.

--

Sometime during her creative burst, she'd put her head down to nap. She'd lost count of the times she'd woken with paper and drool stuck to her cheek. But there was no paper or drool. She was in bed, fully clothed. She was even under the covers.

"That's odd," she said. "I don't normally pull the covers down."

Her stomach growling was the only answer she received. Sitting up, she inhaled and smelled... breakfast! She tossed the blanket off and followed the scent. It was divine. It must be a dream. She still had yet to go grocery shopping, the week of waiting for inspiration to strike having prevented such a necessary trip.

She drew up short once she saw what awaited her.

The table was covered with a variety of dishes, impossible for just one person to eat. She would have licked her lips expectantly, but the effect was ruined by a certain someone whom she had chosen to ignore sitting at the head of the table. He was thumbing through her notebook, his pen hovering over the pages.

Her pleasant, lazy-morning dream had turned into a rip-roaring nightmare. She must have made some kind of noise, probably a strangled growl of disbelief. He looked up and smiled.

"Good morning, Hermione," he greeted her. "Or should I say almost noon?" He closed the notebook. "If you wish to wait for lunch, I'm sure the house-elf will be along shortly."

She edge closer to him. Once she was in range, she grabbed her notebook, walked to the other end of the table, and sat down. Glaring at him, she piled the multitude of breakfast offerings onto her plate.

It was like being back at Hogwarts!

"I took the liberty of editing what you wrote yesterday," he said, taking a sip of his drink. "It's not much as there were very few errors to correct. I shan't meddle with the content of the story, and you'll probably have to get someone else to edit any intimate scenes between James and Virginia. Just knowing who the characters are based on makes me uneasy... even a bit nauseous."

She almost choked on her eggs. Of all the audacity! Of all the nerve! Her eyes watered as she continued to cough. She washed her food down with some juice and set her utensils down. She stared at him, trying to figure him out. Why was he still here? He was a long way from Hogwarts. Surely he had better things to do than come half way around the world for sex.

Oh wait! That's right! He wants her, not some "pale imitation." Taking a deep, somewhat-calming breath, she cleared her throat. "Thank you for the food. You should know that I have no intentions of changing my mind. So, I think it best if you leave. I haven't the time or the patience to deal with distractions right now. I've been trying to write this particular story for well over a year now, and I've finally gotten the break that I needed."

Hermione held her breath and waited, not knowing what to expect next. She watched her former lover carefully. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and placed it on the table. She jumped when he stood, but she stayed where she was. She folded her hands in her lap and looked straight ahead. She didn't know how she had managed when he stopped right next to her and brushed her hair away from her cheek.

His lips were warm against her skin, and she felt a spike of desire lance through her.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," he whispered and stepped back. "Once I return, I shall woo you in a manner befitting my regard." Before she could respond, he Disapparated.

There were multiple pops of Apparition, but she soon realized that it wasn't Severus returning, but that of the breakfast food leaving the table, only to be replaced with lunch.

She nibbled on the inside of her cheek and sighed, disappointment slowly creeping into her bright outlook.

--

TBC

Author's Notes: Dang it! I swear the story is complete. I had to split the last chapter into two because it was just too big. Please accept my apologies for the delay. Son started school, and my hands are pitching a fit because I've been typing too much. Who knew second grade homework was going to be so difficult? Thanks to all who have left reviews. Words cannot express my appreciation.