13- Detention with the Phantom

Standard Disclaimer goes here.

Secondary disclaimer goes here: All lyrics quoted from the Phantom of the Opera in this story are sole property of the composers. I just love them and enjoy making the HP characters sing them.

Chapter 13- Detention with the Phantom

Saturday morning, Hermione ventured into the common room to find Ron and Ginny playing Wizard's Chess. Harry was nowhere to be seen. The swift, knowing look that passed between the siblings was enough to warn Hermione that Harry was being difficult. They both gave her overly bright smiles as they stood, moving to flank her.

"Morning, 'Mione! Ready for breakfast? I could eat a hippogriff, I'm so starved!" Ron gently gripped her elbow and pushed her toward the portrait hole. Ginny rolled her eyes at Ron's exaggeration.

"Yeah, well, make sure you don't let Buckbeak hear you say that... So, Hermione, did you like your costumes last night?" Ginny was clearly determined to steer Hermione's thoughts to topics other than Harry's whereabouts.

Hermione sighed, both in annoyance over Harry's childish behaviour, and with affection for her friends' attempts to soften the blow. She stopped and resisted the persistent tug of the two herding her toward the portrait hole. "Listen you two. I'm not glass. I won't break." She smiled patiently at the redheads, noting their identical expressions of anxiety. "Let me guess: Harry's sulking in bed and refuses to see me, even though he was the one who wanted to talk so badly."

Ron's shoulders sagged and she knew she was right. Looking calculatingly at Ron, she added, "And you're supposed to smuggle up breakfast for him, right?" She swallowed a laugh at Ron's hasty gulp and shook her head as he sheepishly raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, eyes darting all around.

Ginny planted her hands on her hips indignantly, and glared at Ron. "Ronald Weasley! You are not going to steal food for that great prat, are you?" she said, warningly.

Hermione snorted at the clear sides being taken and held up her hands, one in front of each of them. Ron's ears were pink and Ginny's brown eyes were snapping. "Stop it. Both of you. It's bad enough Harry's acting like a child, I don't need you two to start bickering. Ron, I know how he is. I've known him as long as you have. Ginny, I don't care if Ron sneaks him breakfast. At least I won't have to try to eat with him glaring at me the whole time. When he calms down, I'll be more than happy to talk to him. Besides, you should really hear my side too." She cast a sidelong glance at Ron as she said the last bit, knowing that Harry had undoubtedly spilled his guts to Ron about everything. Ron jumped, and Hermione knew the shot hit home. Dropping her hands to her sides, she huffed and said, "Come on, let's go eat."

She stepped toward the portrait hole and Ron and Ginny fell into step behind her. Ginny grimaced at Ron and favoured him with a smart thump on the back of his head. Ron gaped in protest, but refrained from making any noise as he didn't want Hermione to yell at him. Instead, he rubbed his head and glowered at Ginny, pointing at her, and then shaking a fist in her direction. She rolled her eyes haughtily and flicked her fingers at him in a clear gesture that meant, "Talk to the hand."

Hermione knew that some exchange was occurring between the two siblings, but didn't care to address it. She brooded over Harry's reaction all the way to the Great Hall.

The three of them were fairly back to normal, eating and chatting about their costumes. Hermione was surprised to hear that one of the coming rehearsals would be a transfiguration lesson for each actor, teaching them how to do their own spells for costume changes. Ginny looked at her, confused.

"You mean, Dumbledore didn't tell you that? He told all of us after he went through everyone's costumes."

Hermione shrugged and opined, "Well, I was late, and then as soon as he finished with me, he started immediately on Professor Snape, since we were behind schedule at that point. I guess it just slipped his mind."

Ginny squinted at Hermione, even more confused. "How were you late? You sat by the door the whole evening!"

Hermione's lips thinned in remembered annoyance and her eyes darkened. Ron and Ginny exchanged surprised glances and Ron murmured, "So, uh, I guess maybe you should tell us your side..."

Hermione looked up at them eyeing her intently. She sniffed primly and began, "I was here the whole evening, and when Harry was done, he came over to tell me Dumbledore was ready for me. He was pretty rude about it, but I told him he looked good in his costume anyway, 'cause he did..." Her eyes flashed and her jaw clenched. "Then, he just... grabbed me and dragged me outside the doorway! He said he missed me and kissed me again. I was so angry! I couldn't believe him. I pushed him off me and went off on him again." She sighed, weary of the drama. "So, by the time I went back in to Dumbledore, Harry had made me late. He was disappointed and said he thought I would have taken the responsibility seriously." Ginny and Ron gasped in indignant defence of Hermione. "I thought I was going to be in more trouble, but..." She trailed off, suddenly unwilling to finish that statement, and reveal that Snape had lied on her behalf.

"But what?" prodded Ginny.

Hermione shook herself and retorted hastily, "Nothing. He didn't say anything else. I apologized. I just couldn't believe that Harry would make me late for Dumbledore just to persist when he already knew I would talk to him today! I mean, what if Dumbledore had seen him kissing me in the corridor right then? Or what if Professor Snape had caught us again?!" She trailed off again, noticing the looks of horror and consternation on their faces, but it was a faint niggling idea that distracted her.

What if Snape had caught us again? He was right behind me when I went into the Hall. Could he have seen us? But, if he did, why didn't he punish us again? ... But, he didn't look angry when I looked at him. He seemed... amused? About what? She felt like cold water had oozed through her gut as she pondered. Could he have seen me yelling at Harry? That might explain the amusement. But... why did he lie to Dumbledore? I can't figure that out!

She shook herself from her musings and quirked her eyebrows knowingly at the others, who were still reacting to the idea of how awful it would have been if either the headmaster or Snape had caught them again. They were silent for a few moments, and then Hermione saw Ron try to surreptitiously wrap some toast in a handkerchief and stuff it in his pocket. Snorting at his lack of stealth, she pulled out her wand and shrank the parcel into a square inch. Ron yelped at the feeling of the bundle shrinking in his pocket and glanced wildly about.

Hermione smirked at him and he looked abashed. "Honestly, Ron, you're a wizard, use your head!" She chuckled at his embarrassed expression and said, "Go on, fix him a proper plate. I'll shrink it for you if you want. He may be acting like a prat, but going hungry won't make it any better."

Ginny looked at Ron in disdain, but refrained from comment since Hermione was being magnanimous. Ron hastily piled a plate with eggs, sausages, bacon, potatoes, and toast. He hesitated only a moment before he reached for a pitcher of pumpkin juice. Glancing imploringly at Hermione, he inclined his head at the pitcher. She rolled her eyes and nodded, casting a charm to seal the pitcher and keep the juice from spilling. Once Ron had everything piled in one spot, she shrank the lot of it and watched Ron furtively shove it into his pockets.

"Thanks, 'Mione. You're the best. I think I remember the counterspells. If I don't, Harry should." He stood, brushing crumbs from his lap. Leaning across the table, perilously close to knocking over a bowl of porridge, he covered Hermione's hand with his and whispered, "I'm glad you told me your side. I'm sorry he's acting like this, but..." His face suddenly creased into a lopsided grin and he winked. "Hey, it's not his fault that you're a girl to fall hard for." He squeezed her hand as Ginny giggled and he waved jauntily as he left.

Hermione sat, slightly dazed by the brazen compliment. She glared at Ginny from the corner of her eye before succumbing to the giggle that was bubbling up. It felt good to laugh. She and Ginny giggled in waves. As soon as one would start to subside, the other one would grin and wink, and it would set them off again. Hermione ignored the curious looks from other students, some smiling at the infectious laughter.

But, she couldn't ignore the sudden tingle she felt on her neck and turned to see Snape watching her. The laughter died on her lips. Ginny saw her wide-eyed gaze and followed it to its destination, her mirth guttering out like a candle flame. She cleared her throat and looked at her food.

Hermione gazed at Snape, reminded of her curious thoughts earlier. Her amused expression turned thoughtful, and she couldn't look away from the endless inky depths of her Potion Master's eyes. She watched him holding her gaze, felt the raw power exuding from him, and felt the roiling in her stomach again in reaction. Her pulse sped up and a flush crept up her neck to her cheeks.

His eyes narrowed, and she felt an odd whoosh, like a breeze in her mind. Startled, she blinked and looked away. The stirring disappeared. Once again faced with her physical reaction to Snape, she tried to quiet her pounding heart, to slow her hastened breathing. Beside her, Ginny watched her, concerned. She nudged her friend to get her attention.

"Hey, 'Mione, what say we get out of here. You look like Snape still has you pretty rattled."

Hermione heard the warning bells go off in her head. "Uh, yeah. It was pretty awful. Sure, let's go." She stood, pointedly avoiding looking back at Snape. Mustn't give Ginny anything to figure out!

The two girls departed quickly, heading back to the common room to begin their homework.

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Snape walked into the Great Hall through the staff door and saw Hermione laughing with Ginny Weasley. Her other cohorts were absent. Trying to stifle the surge of hope he felt that their absence meant what he thought it meant, he took his seat and served himself, unceasingly gazing at the girls. Potter must still be angry. Good. Arrogant boy needs to learn that he won't always get what he wants.

A bare moment after he entered and sat, Hermione turned to look at him. More calmly than he felt, he held her gaze, unblinking. Ginny turned and saw Snape staring at Hermione and looked away quickly. Snape was intrigued by the curious, thoughtful look in Hermione's eyes. When he saw her blushing, he couldn't stand it any longer and, eyes narrowed in concentration, he stabbed into her mind, using Legilimency.

He was surprised at how easy it was to gain access to her mind, then realized it was easier because her mind was focused on him. He saw her view of him when she had whirled on him the night before, when he had surprised her by excusing her to Dumbledore. He read her shocked and confused thoughts. He was about to delve into her other images of him from the night before, which were all hovering about, but she blinked and looked away, effectively cutting him off.

His eyes widened again as he came back to himself. Struggling between shame that he had invaded her head again and frustration that he hadn't been able to see more, he kept his gaze locked on her, hoping she would look at him again, so he could have another chance. He was both disappointed and relieved when she stood and left with the younger girl.

Dumbledore would have my head if he had any idea I did that. He inclined his head, letting his hair fall forward to shield his face as he ate. His thoughts were on Hermione as he mechanically ate his breakfast, wondering why so many images of him were swimming in her head. Absently, he pushed away from the table and retreated to his dungeons.

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Hermione went about her business the rest of the weekend, acting as if everything was normal, even though Harry was still behaving like a spoilt child and ignoring her. At least he had given up boycotting meals and sat in the Great Hall with the rest of them after that first breakfast. That he purposely took a seat several spaces away from her, putting Ron and Ginny between them, didn't surprise Hermione. She simply put on a civil face and ignored the situation. Frankly, she was exasperated with his attitude. In her opinion, the drama should stay on the stage... which was where she was certain to face more, all things considered!

Hermione made a conscious effort to not look at Snape during meals. She knew that she would get drawn into those ebony tunnels and she was afraid that someone would figure out how she felt. And with her relationship with Harry already strained, and affecting her relationship with Ron too, she didn't dare give anyone a chance to discover something else objectionable about her! But, her decision had no effect on the buzzing she felt whenever Snape was present. She knew when he entered the Hall because she could feel it. It was like she was a Muggle radio tuned to his frequency, and the static began whenever he was in the same room. Add to that the tingle that slid over her when he watched her, and she was hyper-aware of him at all times.

Meals became an exercise in control. Ignoring Harry's attitude and ignoring the thrum of her body under Snape's watchful eye required strength of discipline that Hermione hadn't used before. However, her ability to focus so single-mindedly on her studies helped her adapt quickly. She was both relieved and frustrated that she didn't have Harry and Ron to distract her as usual. It was easier to focus without them as distractions, but instead they were one of the things she had to focus on ignoring!

As the weekend wore on, she spent more time on her own, since Ron spent more time with Harry than her. She snorted to herself. It's like Harry got Ron in the divorce! Smirking at the ridiculous nature of it all, she put away her books, contented to be two full weeks ahead in all of her classes. The only problem was, now that she had no school work, she didn't know what to do with herself. Usually, Sunday evenings were spent spending time with the boys and helping them prepare for Monday, since they usually had put too much off practicing Quidditch over the weekend.

Her mind wandered to Monday. Her homework was complete...a full two and a half times the required length, of course...and she was ahead in the readings. Maybe there'll be a rehearsal. Suddenly she frowned, remembering the detention she had to serve the next night. I hope there isn't a rehearsal after all, or I'll have to miss it. Then again, since Snape and I would both be needed, Dumbledore might just make him reschedule it if there is a rehearsal.

Hermione frowned, wondering what she would have to do for detention. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of being alone with Snape again. The memories of everything that had happened the last couple of times she had been in the classroom washed over her. Just stay calm and professional. No more staring at him or talking back. Just go and do whatever is assigned and get out.

Images of Snape in his Phantom costume paraded in her head. Again she felt the rush of warmth cascading over her. Musing over how different Snape looked in his costume, she opened her music box to practice softly. As she listened, she heard each actor's voice in her head over the recorded one. Once the Phantom began, she bit her lip at the ripple that ran through her centre.

Gods, it's not fair for Snape to have such a seductive voice! How did I manage to not notice it before? ...

Wonderful, I'm a Snape addict! She snorted at herself, ruefully.

Honestly, why did you have to choose the most unlikely person to fall for? He's old enough to be your father; he's your professor; he's horridly rude and sarcastic; he's not handsome; all extremely good reasons for him to be off limits! ...

It's so true that what's forbidden is more tempting. The more I know I can't have him, and can't even try to get him, the more I want him!

Hermione tightened her hands into fists and slammed them onto the bed in frustration. She noticed that she had completely ignored the music in favour of her thoughts. Realizing that she wasn't going to be able to focus on it, she closed the music box and got ready for bed. With a resigned sigh, she crawled into bed with her latest acquisition from the Restricted Section of the library, intent on immersing herself in magical theory until she felt tired enough to sleep.

It worked, to a certain degree. Every once in a while, she would find herself rehashing one of several thoughts, the most frequent ones being, "What am I going to have to do at detention?," "Why did Snape lie for me?," and "Did he see me and Harry fighting?" Eventually, she nodded off, and the book slid from her hands. Her dreams were a tumult of images of Snape and Harry and the Phantom of the Opera.

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Monday went by a little easier for Hermione. She had got used to ignoring Harry and Snape at meals, and it was easy to ignore Harry in class, since they weren't supposed to talk anyway. However, she did catch Harry surreptitiously glancing at her during dinner a few times. Idly, she wondered if he was finally getting over himself. Her question was answered when, as she looked at the time during dinner and got up to leave, to get to her detention on time, Harry called to her. Surprised, Hermione looked at him.

Harry looked uncomfortable, and his cheeks were red. He was having trouble meeting her eyes, but he got up anyway. Stepping closer to her, he shoved his hands in his pockets and stammered, "Hermione, I just wanted to say I'm sorry you got in trouble and got detention. I hope it won't be too bad. I wish I could serve it for you. Look, I know I've been a right bastard lately, but... I want to be friends again." He finally looked at her, his green eyes wistful.

Hermione smiled gently at Harry and said, "Harry, I've been your friend the whole time. I don't want to be late, so I'll have to talk to you later. But, I'm glad you're talking to me again." She offered him her hand, and his face split into a grateful smile as he grasped her hand in his.

"I am too, 'Mione. Um, good luck with Snape." He grimaced and squeezed her hand before releasing it and smiling shyly at her again.

Hermione smirked and shrugged. "Thanks. See you later." She spun and hurried from the Hall toward the dungeon. When she arrived at the classroom door, she paused to collect herself. Relax. Just be calm and respectful and professional. It can't be anything worse than gross... Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.

"Enter."

Opening the door with a shaking hand, she stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. She took measured steps to the front of the room and stopped in front of Snape's desk.

He had stopped himself from raising his head when she entered, contenting himself with peering up through his hair, covertly watching her. When she was standing silently in front of his desk, he straightened in his seat and looked at her.

"Miss Granger, how fortunate it is that you were not late for this appointment." His lips twitched before settling into a line, but even that line was not as hard as usual. Hermione stared at him, taken aback by his gibe. She didn't know how to respond.

She managed a non-committal, "Yes, sir."

Snape gazed at her, drinking her in. Hermione shifted uneasily on her feet, feeling the blush suffusing her face. After a few silent, tense moments, she felt as if she would scream if nothing was said. As she was about to blurt something out, Snape sniffed and drawled, "You are aware, I'm sure, of why you received this detention..."

Hermione, embarrassed, looked down and stammered, "Yes, sir. I was... we were... that is, Harry and I... well, I was engaged in conduct unbecoming a student, particularly one who has been accorded the position of Head Girl."

Snape scowled blackly. "Indeed. Miss Granger, you were the one who insisted that you are an adult. Groping another student in the hallway is not mature behaviour."

Hermione hung her head even more. "Yes, sir."

"Very well then. Now, am I correct in assuming that such a puerile display will never happen again?"

Hermione was puzzled by his tone of voice. He was imposing and severe, but then it seemed as if there were an undercurrent of amused satisfaction. Curious, she looked up as she answered, "Yes, sir. That is correct."

He was glaring down his nose at her, one eyebrow arched. Once again, Hermione thought she saw a sparkle of humour in his obsidian eyes. His lip curled faintly and he began straightening his desk. In a low murmur, he sighed, "Excellent."

Silence reigned for a few moments, with Snape absently toying with the parchment on his desk and Hermione once again shifting uneasily. Snape glanced up at the uncomfortable girl and smirked. He preferred having the upper hand and could tell she was off-balance. Curiosity and apprehension nearly poured off her.

Finally, he leant back in his chair and said, silkily, "Miss Granger, you look as if you'll burst if you don't ask whatever is on your mind. In that case, to save you further embarrassment, you have permission to speak."

Hermione inhaled sharply, about to ask the burning question of why he had lied to Dumbledore, but at the last second, she thought better of it and paused. Snape's eyebrows rose as he watched her, a smug smile quirking his lips. Hermione straightened her shoulders and said politely, "Professor, what am I to do for detention?"

Snape's smile vanished, and his brow furrowed. He wasn't expecting that. He had been certain she would ask him about the little fiction he told Dumbledore. After seeing that image in her mind, he thought it must have been gnawing at her, and he was completely surprised that she didn't take the opportunity he gave her. Recovering from that minor shock, he rapidly glanced about the room.

There were the cauldrons in the corner that could be cleaned. His books could be dusted and straightened. She could actually be helpful in brewing potions if necessary. But, he didn't like being thrown for a loop, and he wanted to regain the advantage of keeping her off-balance. Sweeping his gaze over his desk, he was struck with an idea.

Brilliant!

"Well, Miss Granger, as you so amply demonstrated at our first meeting, you know the play from memory. I, having lacked the opportunity you had, do not. Therefore, as we are certain to have a read-through for Act Two later this week, I wish to be prepared. I have already made progress myself, but it will undoubtedly be beneficial to have someone with which to practice. You will perform your role with me tonight to help me learn mine."

Throughout his speech, Hermione went from relief that she wasn't going to have to scrub cauldrons, to a twinge of disappointment that she wouldn't get to see his books, to a surge of excitement that she would be practicing the play with her sexy-voiced Potions Master, to sick dread that she would embarrass herself again like a randy teenager.

Snape watched the play of emotions across her face and was satisfied with the result. Pointing one long graceful finger at the seat in front of him, he opened a drawer and withdrew the music box and script. Hermione sank into the seat, her legs trembling. She swallowed against her suddenly dry throat and tried to slow her racing pulse.

"I believe I have learnt up to 'Don Juan Triumphant.' It's there that I may not have it completely memorized yet. I will begin where my parts are, and your assignment is to not only perform your part, but also stop me if I make a mistake." He smirked at the goggle-eyed look of incredulity she gave him. In a low rumbling tone, he added, "Miss Granger, you will not offend me if you are following my instructions. If you do not correct me when necessary, I may be forced to change your assignment to one rather less intellectual." He nodded pointedly at the stack of cauldrons and quirked one corner of his mouth at her meaningfully. She glanced in their direction and wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Looking back at Snape, still rather sceptically, she narrowed her eyes and muttered, "Yes, sir."

He smiled faintly and turned his attention to the music box, adjusting dials and toggles. When he opened it, it began at "Why So Silent." He leant back in his chair and looked intently at Hermione as he sang. She jumped when he barked out, "Your chains are still mine. You will sing for me!" Once the swirl of music ended after that part, he reached out and forwarded to his next part.

They listened to Giry reading the beginning of the "note" until the Phantom cut in to continue. Hermione suppressed a shiver at the echoing sound of Snape's voice in the empty dungeon as he sang the rest of the "note."

Snape felt as if he were aiming his voice at her, especially during the line, "She knows, though, should she wish to excel she has much still to learn, if pride will let her return to me, her teacher, her teacher..." His finely honed powers of observation detected the minute ripple that Hermione fought to conceal. He was enjoying the power rush of affecting her so much.

He moved to forward the music to his next part, but paused. He looked speculatively at Hermione, who was suddenly even more nervous under his gaze. Nodding to himself, he adjusted the dials and turned purposefully to Hermione.

"I was going to skip to the duet in the graveyard, but I have reconsidered. Miss Granger, if you would begin where Christine leaves the rehearsal and goes to the graveyard, it would provide the proper lead-up to the scene." He paused a moment, then inquired, "Ready?"

Hermione nodded mutely, swallowing and clearing her throat. Snape inclined his head and opened the box. Hermione softly sang, "In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came... That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name..." She eyed her professor warily as he settled back to listen to her. His elbows rested on the arms of his chair and he steepled his fingers in front of him, leaning back but levelling his gaze at Hermione.

The music changed and Hermione murmured the introduction to "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again." She sat up straight in her chair for better breath control and perched on the edge of her seat. She gave herself over to the pathos of the song, feeling the melancholy of the words. As the song progressed, her voice swelled along with the music. Finally, as she neared the end, her voice waned again, becoming even softer and sadder.

Snape watched her sing, transfixed by the beauty of her voice and the effortless command she had over it. His eyes darkened with feeling in response to the amount of poignancy she poured into the song. By the time she reached the end, he felt as if he were being buoyed along in a rush of emotion, and he sat forward in his chair to respond. His voice was a gentle caress as he sang, "Wandering child, so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance..."

Hermione focused on him raptly, singing, "Angel or father, friend or Phantom, who is it there staring?" in a bewildered tone.

Snape intensified his tone to a hypnotic murmur, "Have you forgotten your Angel?"

Breathlessly, Hermione pleaded, "Angel, oh speak! What endless longings echo in this whisper?"

Neither blinked as they continued, hearing the recording of Raoul joining in the song. Snape felt the electric connection between them again and focused on reaching Hermione with his voice.

Hermione felt the tingles fluttering in her stomach and wanted nothing more than to cross the short distance between them and deposit herself in his arms. When Snape began the mesmeric lure, "I am your Angel of Music. Come to me, Angel of Music," Hermione felt her breath catch and struggled to compose herself.

When the recorded Raoul confronted the Phantom, Hermione saw Snape's face darken and grow cold. He glared at her through narrowed eyes as he recited the taunts and jeers. Hermione managed to choke out the appropriate protests when needed, but her heart beat wildly and she felt tense with apprehension at the closed, hateful expression on Snape's face. She cringed at his fury when he roared, "So be it! Now let it be war upon you both!"

Mechanically, Snape reached for the box, forwarding it just a bit. He paused the music and glanced at Hermione. "The next part is not on the recording." He handed Hermione the script and pointed to the appropriate part. She nodded hastily and looked down at the page as he sang, "I'm here, the Phantom of the Opera" several times. After a few times, Hermione glanced up at Snape and he nodded. She looked down and read the lines. Then, Snape finished that scene with his short verse. Extending his hand toward Hermione, he nodded to her. She gave him the script back and exhaled gustily.

Adjusting the music box yet again, Snape turned a smouldering look on Hermione. She made a rapid calculation in her head and realized that they were to "Point of No Return."

Snape saw her face go pale and her eyes widen before she flushed anew. He felt the simmering desire within him and hoped he could keep it under control. He slowly sat back in his chair as the recorded Piangi sang her cue line.

She closed her eyes a moment as she sang, "No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy." But she opened them and looked shyly at Snape as she sang the following line, "No dreams within her heart but dreams of love."

Snape's chest tightened at her look. The recording Passarino spoke and Snape rasped back. Then, he sat straight in his chair, like Hermione was doing, and belted out his opening lines.

"You have come here in pursuit of your deepest urge, in pursuit of that wish, which till now has been silent, silent... I have brought you, that our passions may fuse and merge - in your mind you've already succumbed to me, dropped all defences, completely succumbed to me - now you are here with me: no second thoughts, you've decided, decided... Past the point of no return - no backward glances: the games we've played till now are at an end... Past all thought of 'if' or 'when' - no use resisting: abandon thought, and let the dream descend...

What raging fire shall Flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies before us? Past the point of no return, the final threshold - what warm, unspoken secrets will we learn? Beyond the point of no return..."

Snape's velvet voice wrapped around the words and Hermione felt drugged by their sultry promise. The crisp way he had enunciated "sweet seduction" had made a rush of heat flash over her. She felt a warm wetness pooling between her thighs. Her eyes closed halfway as she sang her response.

"You have brought me to that moment where words run dry, to that moment where speech disappears into silence, silence... I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why... In my mind, I've already imagined our bodies entwining defenceless and silent - and now I am here with you: no second thoughts, I've decided, decided... Past the point of no return - no going back now: our passion-play has now, at last, begun... Past all thought of right or wrong - one final question: how long should we two wait, before we're one?

When will the blood begin to race, the sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames, at last, consume us?"

Hermione's body had shifted involuntarily and leant toward Snape as she had drawled, "bodies entwining, defenceless and silent." Snape's breath caught as he felt the drawing in his loins in response. His voice was thick with suppressed desire as he joined her to sing together.

"Past the point of no return, the final threshold - the bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn... We've passed the point of no return..."

The music slowed and changed, and they sat, immobile, staring into each other's eyes, reading the passion in them. As the music continued, it was the point at which the Phantom sings "All I Ask of You," but Snape didn't come in on time. Hermione was jarred from her reverie by the lack of what she was expecting.

She jumped, blinking rapidly. Abashed, she looked down, straightening back away from Snape. As soon as she reacted, Snape was jolted back to reality as well. He scowled and shut the music box, resting his hand on it as he tilted his head forward, looking to the side, hiding his face behind his hair. He felt the heat rising in his face and knew he was flushed. Discomfited by the throbbing erection in his lap and the blood pounding in his face, he busied himself with the script, making a show of thumbing through it to the correct page. He then reset the music box before clearing his throat and choking out, "That's as far as I've got. I need to learn the rest from here."

Hermione, grasping at normality, retorted briskly, "Certainly, sir. You've done amazingly well so far. You didn't make a single mistake." She paused before adding, "But that's to be expected from someone as talented as you."

Snape glanced at her sharply, once again disconcerted by her compliment. He really didn't know how to respond to one reasonably. Biting back a sarcastic, defensive comment, he cleared his throat again and managed a stiff, "Thank you, Miss Granger. I do try." He flashed her a dignified, yet embarrassed look as he nodded acknowledgement.

Hermione felt her heart throb at the endearing combination of sophisticated man and shy boy she saw in her Professor. She smiled warmly at him, grateful that he had managed to actually take a compliment this time, rather than denying it as usual.

Snape started the music again, and this time, with the script in front of him, he chimed in to sing, "Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime.. Lead me, save me from my solitude..." He looked up through his lashes at Hermione, his head still bowed to the page. Her expression was tender and a faint smile hovered on her lips. Snape was entranced as he continued, "Say you want me with you, here beside you... Anywhere you go, let me go too – Christine that's all I ask of..." He trailed off as the recording took over. Again they locked gazes, souls bared, until the recording came to "Down Once More."

Snape dragged his eyes from Hermione's and read through his song, glancing back up at her every few words. He struggled to address her harshly as his role demanded. By the time the music came to "Beyond the Lake," he had distanced himself enough from his burning desire to focus on the script.

Hermione saw him retreating into himself and wanted to cry out to stop him. But, she reasoned with herself that it was for the best, and did her best to tamp down the ardour she felt. Her struggle to do so helped her effectively sing her disgust to the Phantom. Still, she was reluctant to meet Snape's gaze as she said the hateful lines.

Snape doggedly persisted in his performance of the song with a harsh, cold attitude. After the warmth and passion of their previous song, he hated to lose the sensations it evoked, but knew it was necessary, for far more reasons than just that the play required it.

Hermione steeled herself to sing, "This haunted face holds no horror for me now. It's in your soul that the true distortion lies." She cringed inwardly at the venom in the words. It tore her soul to see Snape's jaw clench and his eyes become hard and flinty in response. She could feel him closing off again, like he had when he had returned with his Death Eater garb. He took a deep breath and sat back in his seat. His voice was poisonous as he sang his lines to Raoul.

The tension in the dungeon skyrocketed, but this time it wasn't alluring and seductive. This tension spoke of a barely concealed rage against the character of Raoul. Hermione felt cold sweat trickling down her neck at the white-hot fury underneath Snape's performance. His voice was a hoarse rasp by the time he ground out, "You try my patience. Make your choice!"

Hermione's heart was in her mouth and her stomach was in knots as she answered, "Pitiful creature of darkness... What kind of life have you known? God give me courage to show you: you are not alone." Her skin tingled with the knowledge that in the play, she would be kissing Snape at that moment. Her eyes were wide when Snape bored his gaze into her. She quailed under the black fury pouring off him. Finally, as the music swelled and changed, he tore his gaze away and stared sullenly at the script as he muttered his lines.

Then, he bellowed, "Go now! Go now and leave me!" His voice cracked under the strain and he slumped in his chair, looking defeated. Hermione wanted to rush to him and comfort him, but forced herself to stay in her chair, rigid. His voice was a fragile likeness of its previous robust self as he lilted his lines. Then, he choked out, "Christine, I love you." Hermione's hands clenched in empathy.

Finally, he gathered himself, and his voice once again resounded through the dungeon, vibrant but destroyed. Once the music faded away, Snape reached out and gently shut the box. Hermione watched his chest rising and falling as he breathed deeply.

In the heavy silence that followed, Hermione struggled to find something appropriate to say. Seeing Snape slumped back in his chair, eyes closed, she was hit with an inspiration. Tentatively, she whispered, "Professor?"

Snape opened his eyes, but they didn't snap with their usual annoyance. Wearily, he asked, "What is it, Miss Granger?"

"Well, sir, it just seemed as if your throat might be dry and giving you trouble, so I wanted to suggest a short break to have some tea." She paused, seeing that he was not going to respond yet, and hurried on. "Actually, that reminds me of that tonic I mentioned at the first read-through. I know you said you'd prefer your potions, but if you haven't brewed anything suitable just yet, my tonic may help in the meantime."

A faint spark of interest glowed in his eyes as he inquired, "Just what is in this tonic of yours?" His voice held a modicum of sneering suspicion, and Hermione was thankful that he seemed to be recovering and returning to normal.

Briskly, she replied, "Nothing unusual. Simply tea, lemon, and honey. Shall I summon a house-elf, sir?" She regarded him with a carefully schooled expression of polite detachment.

Snape raised an eyebrow and snorted. He waved his wand languidly and a tea service appeared on his desk, complete with lemon and honey. Smirking pointedly at Hermione, he waved his hand over it and drawled, "I don't believe that's necessary, Miss Granger. I am a Potions Master. As you can see, I am quite capable of acquiring your ingredients."

He poured two cups of steaming tea and gestured for her to join him at his desk. Trembling at the idea of being closer to him, she moved her chair beside his desk on the dais and sat. Politely, Snape handed her a cup and saucer. She took it with a murmured thanks.

She was flustered by his proximity and didn't know what to do. Nervously sitting, still as a rock, she was chagrined to see Snape roll his eyes and stare at her, aggrieved. Exasperated, he spoke. "Well, Miss Granger, are you ever going to relate your precious recipe? Is there a particular proportion to be had amongst the ingredients? Or is this just your excuse to have tea with your professor?" His lip curled as he favoured her with a sardonic look. Hermione flushed at his sarcasm and hastily set down her tea to hide the shaking of her hands.

"No, sir! I mean, yes, I'll share the recipe. There really isn't much of one. The tea needs to be hot, and you add a couple of spoonfuls of honey to coat your throat and soothe it, and you add a slice of lemon for taste and reviving energy." Nervously lecturing, she suited actions to words and prepared Snape's cup of tea for him. When she was done, she looked up to see him staring at her with a mixture of consternation and smug amusement. Pretending suspicion, he lifted the teacup to his nose and inhaled the aroma, swirling the tea. Narrowing his eyes at her and hiding a smile behind his cup, he pinned her with an intense gaze as he carefully sipped.

Hermione sat, quivering with apprehension, unsure of how to take his almost teasing behaviour. Owl-eyed, she watched him sample the tea. She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding when he lowered his cup and gestured toward her in a silent toast.

"Well done, Miss Granger. A successful brew to rival your potions. Cheers."

Hermione nearly gaped in surprise at his compliment. Fazed by the unexpected raillery, she studiously focused on preparing her tea, avoiding his gaze. Once it was done, she glanced at Snape over the rim of her teacup as she sipped its soothing contents.

An unexpectedly comfortable silence fell. They sat and drank their tea almost companionably. Snape felt himself relaxing and thought ruefully how domestic it all seemed when Hermione had prepared his tea for him. It was the first time in a very long time that someone else had seen to his needs and comfort. A yearning he didn't know existed made itself known. He finished his tea and sat back, musing. Hermione reached for his cup and prepared a second helping. Snape stared at her, taken aback by her initiative.

Bemused, he rumbled, "You don't even know if I want another cup. What possessed you to do that?"

Hermione blushed and stammered, in a low voice, "I-I don't know if you want another cup. But... I thought it would be nice, just in case." She sipped again from her cup, hiding her reddened face.

Snape felt a warmth expanding in his chest. He smiled that rusty, genuine smile at her and said softly, "Thank you, Hermione."

Hermione felt like she was about to explode with excitement. He just called me Hermione! Gods, my name never sounded so good... She lowered her teacup and beamed at him. There was an awkward moment, and then Snape tore his gaze from hers and drank a bit more.

The silence was now charged with emotion. Unsure of how to deal with it, Snape reverted to familiar duty and opened the script to the parts he needed to learn. Lightly, he said, "In an effort to keep from negating the benefits of your tonic, I believe I'll just recite the lines now, and you can follow along to make sure I'm getting them right." He slid the tea service out of the way and pushed the script in front of Hermione.

Hermione quickly reached for the script and moved her teacup to the side. Politely, she said, "Ready, sir."

Snape rested his forehead against his hand and closed his eyes as he recited the lines from memory. Every so often, he would ask for a hint, and Hermione would provide the first few words. In between his lines, she recited the others. Without the rich music and the emotion imbued in their singing, even "All I Ask of You" was bearable.

Periodically, Snape would repeat what the stage directions said as well, listing the events or actions to happen in the play. Thus, it was that Snape worked his way through the script to the climax, where he glibly recited the fact that Hermione would kiss him after her lines. It wasn't until the words were out of his mouth that he realized what he had done. It had finally been spoken aloud.

He froze and glanced up at Hermione, who was struggling to keep a professional expression and wishing she didn't blush so much. She noticed Snape looking at her and met his gaze with a defiant toss of her hair, her chin tilted up more than usual.

Snape blinked. He wanted so much to kiss her, but he dreaded the revulsion she was sure to show at the thought. He looked down, bitterly resenting the position he was in. He noticed Hermione wringing her hands agitatedly and miserably bit out, "I'm sorry you have to suffer through this, Miss Granger. Rest assured, I shall strive to make things as comfortable for you as possible. I'm sure Dumbledore will allow us to skip that until it is absolutely necessary for performance." His cheeks were hot and he shook his hair forward to cloak his face.

Hermione was stunned at his speech. Panicking slightly at the thought of not being allowed to kiss him for months, she desperately cast about for a solution to her problem. Struck, she determinedly said, "Professor?"

Snape flicked a glance at her and retorted acidly, "What now, Miss Granger?"

Hermione gathered her courage and gazed at Snape loftily. "Really, Professor, I thought we were going to approach this as adults." Snape blinked at her, stunned at her tone and words.

Icily, he spat, "Explain yourself."

Hermione took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "We are both adults here, and we can behave professionally. If you insist on treating a simple kiss as if it were a torture not to be endured, you'll just be perpetuating a ridiculous stereotype along with the rest of the cast. Isn't it a valid technique to take ownership of something used to insult and hurt and turn it around to make it something innocuous? I can see how well it worked with transfiguring your Death Eater garments."

Snape squinted at her, clearly puzzled, but intrigued. He flicked his fingers at her and said, "Go on."

Hermione drew courage from her success so far and continued, blithely. "Well, sir, wouldn't it take the wind out of everyone's sails if we were already comfortable with the necessary interactions before they had the chance to try to taunt us about it?" She took a deep breath and took the plunge. "We could practice the kiss, so it becomes second nature to perform it as easily as we would perform anything else. Then it would be no big deal..." She trailed off, hoping against hope that he wouldn't blow up at her and kick her out. It took every ounce of discipline she had to hold his questioning gaze.

Snape couldn't believe his ears. She wants to practice kissing? Did she put a hallucinogen in my tea? Can she possibly be serious? He saw the nervous tension in her frame and stared at her, dumbfounded. She brashly gazed back at him, no trace of backing down in her eyes. He began to wonder if he could really have such good fortune.

Cautiously, he nodded, seeing her exhale slowly in relief. He was surprised again to see the hungry sparkle in her eyes. Hoping his voice wouldn't betray his nervousness, he stood and remarked, "Very well. In that case, I believe we should stand." He held his hand out to her and felt his chest tighten as she slipped her smooth hand into his.

She locked her gaze with his as she stood, stepping away from the desk and standing in front of him. Her voice was husky as she breathed, "So... I finish my lines and I reach up and... and kiss you. The script says it's supposed to last a long time..."

Snape's eyes were hooded, and he purred, "Yes, it does, doesn't it?"

She stepped close to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body, and stretched her hand up to rest on his shoulder. She licked her lips and swallowed. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up toward him. He was still too tall, so she slid her hand up into his hair behind his ear and pulled him down to meet her.

Snape's breath caught as he felt her fingers winding through his hair. He was humming with sensation, and felt her gentle tug to pull him toward her. He lowered his head and heard a roaring in his ears as her lips touched his.

Her lips were as soft and pliant under his as they had been under his finger weeks ago. He could feel them trembling against his. He realized he had closed his eyes and snapped them open to see her reaction. Her eyes were closed. He suppressed a groan as her body melted against him. Her hand tightened spasmodically in his hair and she tilted her head to the side, pressing her lips harder against his. He nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt her tongue flicking against his shut lips. He knew he should be pulling away, reprimanding her for such behaviour, but his body had a mind of its own and it wasn't obeying his voice of reason.

Hermione marvelled at her audacity. Almost cringing at her own brashness, she expected to be shoved away and raged at, but that didn't happen. Emboldened by the positive reception so far, she parted her lips and lightly touched his with her tongue. He stiffened, but didn't draw back. Exulting in her success, she slid her other hand up his hard chest and around his shoulder, adding it to her grip in his hair. Moulding her body to his, she pulled his head tighter to hers and prodded his lips with her tongue, begging entrance.

Snape felt her hands on him, her soft, warm figure fitted against his body, and felt his mind spinning out of control. When her tongue slipped along the seam of his lips, he relaxed, letting her gain entrance. His tongue tentatively met hers and gently tasted her. Unbidden, his hands lifted to wrap around her. His hands splayed against her back, holding her close, he responded to her kiss with his own.

Hermione was almost faint with delight. That warm puddle between her thighs expanded as sizzling tingles shot through her. His hands were on her body, and he was kissing her back, exploring her as she was him. She nestled closer to him, her belly melting against his hips. That was when she felt the searing heat of the hard lump trapped between them. She gasped.

Snape came to his senses when he heard and felt Hermione's gasp. Panicking, he wrenched himself away from her, grabbing her hands and removing them from his head. Panting with shock and lust, he pushed her away from him. He realized he was hard for her, and wildly spun away from her, leaning forward onto his desk. Terrified that she knew, he gasped out, "Go. Return to your Tower. Detention is over."

Hermione was aghast. How could things crumble so quickly? Shaking with desire, she grasped the chair back for support. She didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay with him and kiss him again. When she didn't move, Snape whipped his head around and pinned her with a manic glare. "I said go! Now!"

Frightened by the look in his eyes, she whirled and ran from the dungeon and up the stairs to her room. Her body was singing with the electricity between her and Snape. She was virtually vibrating with need and desire.

Panting with exertion and passion, she cried out, startled, when she hit something and tumbled to the floor outside her door.