The Salmon Mousse

Happy holidays!!!

Many thanks this yuletide season to my awesome betas, kittylefish and Persevero.

And, of course, I've no claim to the Harry Potter universe, nor am I profiting financially from writing this story.

Chapter Eight - The Salmon Mousse

Cursing the Ministry's Anti-Disapparation wards, Hermione scurried down Diagon Alley to the Leaky Cauldron, her sensible shoes clattering loudly as they smacked the pavement. She glanced at her watch. 6:35! Shit, she only had twenty-five minutes before the blasted book club meeting! Well, at least the brisk walk would give her a chance to work off some of the nervous energy that had been dogging her all day. Hopefully, Severus wouldn't have given her up as a lost cause now that she was so horribly late.

She huffed irritably. She'd planned to leave the Ministry earlier, but the head of the Unspeakables simply wouldn't stop rambling on about the specifications for the project to integrate organisational charms into their department. Honestly, couldn't they trust her to review the twenty-page request they'd sent and ask appropriate questions? It was bad enough that the team had requested a preliminary presentation so that they could begin implementing her suggestions immediately. The schedule was aggressive to begin with, and the presentation would guarantee that she worked through the weekend. Normally, she wouldn't be irritated at the prospect, but she wanted her weekends free now that there was someone with whom she wanted to spend them.

Finally, the Cauldron was in sight, and she slowed her pace a bit so as not to arrive entirely out of breath. Her heart was racing. She was embarrassed to admit that, ever since Severus had rendered her senseless in her hallway, she'd spent hours pondering their tentative relationship. What would the future hold for them? How would he react the next time he saw her? Would they return to that awkward stage where they weren't quite sure how to behave around one another? Gods, she hoped not. This giddy and uncertain phase of a new relationship was absolutely foreign to her; she and Ron had immediately gone from a then-strained friendship to nearly married. Their grief, turmoil, and euphoria following the war had left no room for post-first-date jitters.

She flittered into the Cauldron, wishing she could school her face into that mask of indifference Severus had perfected so that, perhaps, the entire Wizarding world wouldn't realise she was a bundle of nerves. Oh, thank gods, Severus was sitting at their usual booth, and he smiled as he rose to greet her.

“I am so sorry to keep you waiting. The meeting went on considerably longer than I expected."

Severus hugged her briefly and pressed a quick, discreet kiss to her forehead before ushering her into her seat. “It really wasn't a problem. Your letter indicated you might be late, but I decided to arrive early anyway and brought something to occupy me,” he said, gesturing to a stack of red-flecked essays. “Essays always go down better with a pint. I'd just finished them when you arrived.”

"Have you eaten yet?" she asked, craning her neck to see if she could catch Tom's attention.

“I placed two orders for lamb shanks about thirty minutes ago. Tom said he'd keep them under a Warming Charm until you arrived.”

No sooner had he spoken than Tom arrived at the table, levitating their plates and a pear cider for Hermione. Her stomach growled audibly as he set the plates down, and Hermione tucked into her meal with gusto. She swirled the first cut of lamb in the redcurrant and rosemary sauce and couldn't help closing her eyes as she relished the taste. She'd skipped lunch again, and the lamb was absolutely divine.

She sighed happily as she swallowed her first bite, and she opened her eyes to find Severus frozen, knife and fork in hand, as he stared at her. She noted the slightest bit of pink on his cheeks as he averted his eyes and began carefully sawing his meal into precise cubes. Squirming a bit in her seat, she stopped gawking at his hands and returned to her meal.

"So," Severus said as he speared a cube of lamb, "Are you looking forward to our bit of rebellion this evening?"

"Of course!" Hermione replied with a grin. "Though we never quite settled the question of which of us would critique the book and who would defend it. Shall we toss a coin?"

Severus's eyes narrowed. He'd hoped she would just forget this little detail so he could slip naturally into the role of antagonist.

Two hurriedly consumed meals, one cider, one beer, and one flip of a galleon later, their fates were decided. He suppressed a shudder as he reached for his cloak. It took every bit of his self-control not to sulk at having lost the coin toss. Stupid, lust-ridden affection. Only for Hermione would he defend the worthless piece of trash entitled, The Witches of Gilford.

With just a few moments to spare, Severus and Hermione arrived at Flourish and Blotts and took their places at the front of the room. Severus conjured a podium ostensibly for propping up their notes but more for shielding his nether regions from the prurient gaze of Eunice Greengrass. He suppressed another shudder. This bloody book club couldn't end soon enough. Granted, he thought, glancing at the woman standing next to him, it's paid off in some respects. Still, he wondered how he would survive several more weeks with the twittering mass of busybodies seated before them.

"Hello, I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Severus Snape. We'll be presenting this week."

Oh, gods, Severus moaned to himself, looking out at the crowd of witches perched on the edges of their seats. So this is what Hermione meant when she was talking about public adoration of war heroes. Oh, he recalled that some witch or another had commented during the first meeting on having two war heroes in the club, but he hadn't quite comprehended what it meant to the group. They seemed absolutely enraptured with them. He had never spoken to a group that listened so intently to the speaker. Hell, he was doing well to have three-fourths of his students fully engaged when he lectured. The focused attention was a bit unnerving; he was certainly not accustomed to being on display like this.

Hermione continued, "According to Matilda Broomshanks' thoughtful description during the first meeting, Flourish and Blotts put a lot of time and research into creating this book club, particularly focusing on the shortcomings of Muggle book clubs. Severus and I want to do our part to help make sure this book club is as well-rounded and true to form as possible. I did some research of my own, speaking with several individuals who have participated in book clubs. One of the major points they emphasised is that the meetings typically include quite a bit of healthy debate amongst members regarding the merits and shortcomings of the text."

The witches stared at Hermione blankly.

Severus continued, "In other words, people critique various aspects of the book. One person offers their opinion while someone else might disagree, engendering a lively discussion." More blank stares. What the bloody hell was wrong with these witches? He got a livelier response from terrified first-years when he demanded they explain the differences in the use of fresh versus coagulated dragon's blood. Surely the crowd's brains weren't so addled that they needed to be SHOWN how to critique something.

"For example, I might say," Hermione began, dramatically turning to face Severus, "I thought that the character development in this story was rather weak. We only find out about the motivations or back story of Nigel Reese."

Severus swallowed not a small amount of bile and countered, "Oh, but surely none of the other characters are as fascinating as Nigel Reese. Why would the author waste print giving each of them a tedious background for the reader to wade through?"

"Well, I would have liked to learn more about the Widow Coursely, for example. How old is she? How long has it been since her husband died? Did she and her husband have any children?"

Severus silently applauded her choice. No one could fault her for displaying interest in that particular character. He retorted, "Nonsense. Those kinds of details would only be interesting if she served a larger role in the plot. She only appears in two chapters, so it's not necessary to include her history. However, I'll concede it might be beneficial to have more information on SOME characters. Nigel seems quite interested in Nora Gallagher, the innkeeper's daughter. She has appeared in nearly every chapter to date. It might be interesting to know more about her."

Hermione turned to face the club again and explained, "As you saw, I criticised the author's characterisation. Severus countered with his own thoughts, though he did concede some truth to my argument. The point of this debate isn't to cause disagreement, but for everyone to examine their own reactions to the book more closely and to open up discussion."

Gods, she was sexy in pedantic-teacher mode. Severus glanced down to confirm that he was indeed shielded by the podium. Taking a deep breath, he surveyed the faces of the book club members. Several of the book's staunchest supporters looked like they'd swallowed a Snitch. Most of the crowd, however, wore the same blank expressions as they had before their little mock criticism. A few witches, though, wore thoughtful expressions. Ah, well, if the witches weren't going to volunteer, it was time to prod them a bit. Severus selected one of the pensive-looking witches and glanced at Hermione's list of target topics.

"Well, to get the discussion started, let's begin with a couple of open-ended questions and see where that takes us, shall we?" Severus said as politely as he could manage. "Let's continue our analysis of the characterisation with some questions directed towards individuals who presented some of the early chapters in the book. Ms Merriweather and Ms Abbott, when you presented chapters three and four, you were both very excited about the cast of characters the author was introducing. What are your thoughts on the characters now that you've read over half the book?"

Hermione watched Severus's part in the presentation with amusement. They'd determined that neither could be openly hostile towards the book or its many flaws if they wanted to remain blameless for any ensuing riots. So instead, Severus was the picture of congeniality, a role he wore like a ratty hand-me-down jacket that was already two sizes too small.

"Well," Flora Merriweather began tentatively, "I was quite excited that we would be reading a story full of witches to whom I could relate. But I suppose that I have been a bit disappointed." She sighed. "I still love the way Richmond Greenleaf describes the scenery of the town, and I occasionally find Nigel Reese rather amusing. But I must admit many of the witches in the book seem a bit dim.”

"Dim!" Gertrude Robinson interjected. "Dim is too kind a word for the witches of Gilford! This book makes it sound like us rural witches are all morons who can't tell our arse from a tea kettle. Why, I'd have stopped reading the book if the Compulsion Charms didn't force me."

Several witches nodded their heads in agreement, but none volunteered additional comments. Hermione decided to prompt Ms Abbott for her thoughts. "Ms Abbott, what did you make of the characterisation as the story progressed?"

"Oh, I think it's perfect. Why, if the author focused more on the other characters, then we might not hear as much about Nigel Reese! I think I agree with Mr Snape," Eustace Abbott answered.

Severus winced as the woman associated his good name with praise for that pompous dunderhead. If this continued, he would have no need to consume a Puking Pastille in order to spill his dinner.

After Eustace's comment, the room exploded with responses.

Mary Dragonfire stated, "Oh, I think I agree with Flora and Gertrude. I thought the characters were quite one-dimensional. It seems the only reason the author created them was so they could be enamoured of Nigel Reese."

Eunice Greengrass clamoured, "And where are the men in this town? It seems to be all women except for Nigel Reese!"

"If I never hear about Nigel Reese again, it will still be too soon," Estelle Louper exclaimed.

Severus's mouth twitched ever so slightly. Their little coup was going quite well. The group's loathing for the book was just beginning to simmer. He glanced at Hermione proudly. It seemed she was correct in her assessment that there were other club members who were as disgusted as they were. Matilda Broomshanks glowered at them from the back of the room.

Ethel Brummitch chattered nervously, wringing her hands, "Well, I still love the book and all its characters, but I've had a nightmare with The Witches of Gilford Cookbook! I was so very excited about the cookbook, too! I tried one of the recipes, and we had to take my little grandson to St Mungo's for food poisoning! They said that the charms to cook the meat were inadequate!"

Martha Higgensbottom gasped in horror at her friend's revelation, clearly offended by the harsh criticism of her beloved book and its accompanying recipes. She sniped, glaring at Hermione, "Well, I don't think the chapter titles are very evocative at all, Ms Granger. But, regardless, this book has changed my life: Nigel Reese's mission has touched and inspired me."

Hermione suppressed a smirk at Martha's attempt to goad her. Honestly, she regularly argued points nose-to-nose with Lucius Malfoy. Martha was about as intimidating as Lucius's little toe. She had just opened her mouth to respond when Gloria Swampwater interjected, "Inspired you to do what? Fanny about at Ministry luncheons bragging about the latest recipe you've tried?"

"Oh! How DARE you! I'll have you know my salmon mousse was VERY well received!" Martha retorted.

Gloria snorted in response. "Well, you're certainly a big hit with the Apothecary! The first two times you brought in dishes from The Witches of Gilford Cookbook, they sold out of Digestive Potion within an hour. They said they'd not had such a run on any potion since that rumour during the war that Death Eaters had poisoned the beef bourguignon in the Ministry canteen. They've even asked for a warning owl from the department any time you announce you're bringing a treat so they can begin brewing in advance of the rush."

"Well, I never!" Martha raged.

"No, apparently you do quite a bit!" Gloria chortled.

Hermione glanced anxiously at Severus. They really ought to intervene before things got ugly; their plan to encourage dissent just short of full revolt would unravel if Martha Higgensbottom flew off the handle at this point in the meeting. If they let these two witches continue, they'd surely draw wands soon. But if Hermione interrupted, Martha's anger would be fuelled rather than quelled.

Thankfully, Severus caught Hermione's panicked expression and interrupted condescendingly, "Now, now, ladies. Perhaps we can limit our criticism to the book rather than our personal lives."

Martha's feathers were still noticeably ruffled as she settled back into her seat with a petulant scowl, but it seemed her outrage had been reduced from a boil to a simmer.

"We've covered the characterisation and now recipes in detail. Perhaps we could move on to some of the other literary elements: theme, imagery, plot, or setting. Shall we perhaps tackle the plot next?" Hermione suggested.

This time the witches needed no prodding to contribute. Hermione watched as the discussion see-sawed between the ardent defenders of the book versus a growing crowd of detractors.

Bessie Thompson grumbled, "Gods forbid, what did this town do before Nigel Reese showed up? My twelve-year-old grandson is a better wizard than him."

"Surely that can't be true! Why, some of his solutions are so ingenious! I would never have thought to use Accio when I'd accidentally added the wrong ingredient to my baking," Delphinia Appleblossom contended.

The expressions of several witches clearly betrayed their thoughts of Delphinia's intellect.

"Well, I say it's no wonder the town is small. By the sound of it, they all starved before Nigel arrived," Narcissa Smith declared.

"Why, I think the idea of a Ministry Outreach Official is just wonderful. I know we'd love to have someone like Nigel around to help us. Our village pub could certainly use a round of his charms," Muriel Malone exclaimed.

"How on earth can you possibly take his position seriously? Ministry Outreach Official? MOO? He's clearly poking fun at rural witches again," Gertrude Robinson exclaimed.

Hermione exchanged a quick, conspiratorial glance with Severus against a backdrop of now constant complaining and bickering from the witches. Victory, it seemed, was theirs. She glanced at her watch. Goodness! Only five minutes left! She nudged Severus and pointed at her watch. The corner of his mouthed twitched slightly before he returned his gaze to the crowd.

"That chapter about the Jarvey who had taken up residence in the neighbouring Muggle town's church and wouldn't leave until Nigel recited bawdy limericks? That was a bit much. I could have gone a lifetime without that creep spouting off all the words that rhyme with 'hunt,'" Mary Dragonfire said as she cringed.

"Let me tell you, if someone came into my house and told me flat out that I was casting the wrong charms for cleaning my great-grandmother's china, I'd string them up by their bollocks!" Estelle Louper exclaimed.

And with that comment, Matilda Broomshanks called an end to the meeting with a look that could melt cauldrons. Every bit of Hermione's concentration was spent trying desperately to keep a straight face. She and Severus gathered their belongings while the crowd continued chattering. Severus Vanished his conjured podium, and they began making their way through the crowd towards the door. Along the way, several witches stopped to thank them for encouraging the open discussion; against such initial praise for the book, they'd been hesitant to voice their criticism.

Finally, the two of them made their way through the crowd to Diagon Alley. Severus turned to see a near-blinding smile upon Hermione's face.

Looking up at Severus, she asked, "Shall we grab a pint to toast our victory?"

"Absolutely," Severus replied with a grin that nearly matched hers.

Gods, but he was handsome when he actually smiled. "Will the pub across the street from my building do?"

"Certainly."

"Shall we Apparate to the alleyway, then?"

"I'll see you there."

In the manner of men the world over, Severus made a beeline for the pub the second his Apparation was complete. He was just about to exit the alleyway when he felt a hand tugging at the back of his robes. He turned to see Hermione looking at him expectantly, one corner of her lower lip tucked between her teeth.

"Severus, please? I've wanted to kiss you all night."

He could scarcely deny her request, since he'd been itching to do the same. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he pressed his lips to hers. He'd intended the kiss to be a brief expression of his feelings for the witch. Instead, it swiftly ignited like a spark in dry kindling after he felt her tongue flicker against his lower lip. Merlin, he'd never known snogging alone to be so exhilarating. No wonder the little brats were always sneaking off to every corner of the castle.

Her hands scrabbled to grab the back of his cloak, and she suddenly found herself pressed against the wall of her building. What was it with Severus and walls? Oh, but the bricks pressing against her back felt unbelievably good. Her mind flashed an image of Severus, pants tangled around his ankles with her legs wrapped around his waist as he drove into her.

Unable to restrain herself, she pulled him flush against her and wrapped a leg around his. She felt her arousal ratchet impossibly higher as his hardness pressed against her. She hadn't doubted that he was aroused, but feeling him was quite another matter altogether.

Severus emitted a strangled moan and struggled to disengage himself. He visibly strained to regain his composure, panting and staring at her with a lustful craziness in his eyes that she'd never managed to inspire in anyone else. She would have been flattered if she weren't choking on her disappointment.

"Merlin, Granger, settle down. I don't fancy having our first shag in an alleyway."

"Granger? When the hell have you ever called me 'Granger'?"

"It sounded better. Besides, I'm not sure I could say your given name and 'shag' in the same sentence without embarrassing myself."

Hermione snorted. "You know, my flat is right there," she said, gesturing upwards.

"Your sense of urgency is certainly flattering, but I believe we have some matters to discuss before we take things upstairs," he replied imperiously.

His tone was a bit more authoritative than she liked; that little habit would clearly have to be addressed later. Though he was certainly welcome to adopt that tone once they took matters upstairs. Gods, his voice did things to her nether regions that were simply indecent. She nodded, tugged her clothing back into place, and cast several quick Transfiguration spells before they quit the alley for the pub. Pausing to admire the sight of Severus in denim, she pocketed her wand and clutched his arm before they crossed the street and walked into the pub.

"Just give me a moment to duck into the Ladies. I'll come and find you."

Severus nodded and wandered off to find a table. The pub was absurdly busy for a Tuesday night. He ordered a beer, a pear cider, and some baked Brie and settled in to wait for Hermione.

Their drinks were delivered, and he savoured the first swallow of beer. Buggering hell. What the bloody hell was taking her so long? Hopefully she would return before he lost his nerve. Not that he was remotely sure how to even begin this ridiculous conversation with Hermione. Hell, he himself still needed convincing that delaying physical gratification was a good idea. How could he manage to convince Hermione? Merlin knew, he had wanted to rip her knickers off back in that bloody alleyway.

Hermione returned from the Ladies and slid into the booth across from him.

"I don't want to sleep with you," Severus blurted.

Hermione's eyebrows nearly touched her hairline.

"Yet," he clarified in a panic. "I don't want to sleep with you yet." He nervously took a long swig of beer.

"Look, you may find this difficult to believe,” he said with a wry grin. “But this relationship business doesn't exactly come naturally to me. I've had flings here and there in the past but nothing more involved. And I am hoping this could be something a little more substantial than several rolls in the hay."

Hermione nodded, listening attentively while she reached for her cider.

"It's just.... this won't be simple, for either of us, I suspect. I'm sure I'll manage to cock things up royally while I'm figuring out how to behave properly, and I won't risk cursing our long-term chances by insinuating a closeness that we don't yet share. Contrary to popular belief, I am not entirely ignorant when it comes to women, and I know better than to introduce that intimacy before we're ready."

Hermione was surprised at this level of honesty from the man. Shit, he was genuinely serious about this, and it was clear that he was waiting uncomfortably for her response. Hermione replied with furrowed brow, "I suppose I can see how waiting would be best. Besides, how will I ever get you to behave if I don't have the promise of sex to lure you?"

She grinned a bit more evilly than Severus thought her capable. Suddenly his pants were a bit too tight... again.

"So, exactly how long do you plan on torturing me?" she asked with a saucy grin.

"I'll have you know, it will be just as painful for me as it is for you."

"No, seriously," she deadpanned. "How long will we wait?"

"I don't know... a month or two?"

"I suppose that's tolerable. So, tell me about these flings, will you?" Gods, she loved teasing him. It was a joy to see him so flustered.

Severus looked decidedly panicked as he glanced over his shoulder and, miraculously, saw their food. "Oh look, our food's on its way. We're here to celebrate, aren't we? Shall we toast our success?" he said, raising his glass. Hopefully she would forget her impertinent little question.

And toast their success they did. Now that the uncomfortable emotional bit was out of the way, they laughed until their sides hurt as they recounted the presentation and speculated on how the meetings might be a bit more tolerable in the future.

Hermione leaned heavily against Severus as they walked back to her flat. Other than dinner and the Brie, she really hadn't eaten all that much today. Perhaps having three pints over the course of the evening was a bit much.

"Will I see you this weekend?” she asked, stumbling a bit as she turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry, but I have that Potions-Charms conference in Brussels. Would you like to come with me? I've heard the conference itself is booked, but I'm sure I'll have free time. There are a couple of lectures I'd thought about skipping anyway," Severus responded, holding the door as they entered her building.

Hermione sighed as she pressed the button for the lift. She had known her project was going to throw a spanner in things. "The offer is extremely tempting, but during my meeting earlier, my presentation to the Unspeakables was bumped up to Monday. I'll need access to the Ministry's libraries to prepare, and I'm afraid Apparating back and forth to the continent would be a bit too draining. Besides, I'm not sure you'd survive the weekend with your upstanding morals intact."

"Behave, wench," he growled. "Are you free tomorrow or Thursday night?"

"I am free Thursday," she replied, stepping into the lift. "But don't you have rounds that night?"

"I do, but they don't start until nine-thirty. Would you like to meet for dinner in Hogsmeade? There's a new Indian restaurant I'd like to try. Sprout keeps extolling the wonders of their vindaloo."

"That sounds lovely.”

“Could you meet me at the Hogwarts gates at five?”

She agreed and began removing the wards on her flat. "Would you like to come in? It's a platonic invitation, of course."

"I've stayed out a bit too late already. It's nearly midnight," he replied, wondering how he'd manage to end their outing with any shred of dignity.

"I'll see you on Thursday, then," she said as she stepped closer to him.

"Thursday it is," Severus said before he delivered a kiss that would normally be considered chaste but which still lit up her toes. She whimpered, and he chuckled before giving her another quick peck. He Disapparated with a twisted grin.

Hermione yawned as she recast the wards on her flat. Wasn't she naughty, keeping the professor out after hours? Grumbling, she realised that their self-imposed, or rather Severus-imposed, chastity was just as well. It wasn't as if their blasted schedules were likely to accommodate anything more than a frantic quickie any time between now and the end of June. Her project was sure to occupy nearly all of her free time for the next month, at which point Severus would be inundated with work for the annual OWLs and NEWTs. They'd be lucky to see each other with their clothes on, much less off.

She meandered to her bedroom to begin preparing for bed. She was brushing her teeth when she was assailed with the memory of their heated snogging session in the alleyway. She had never been quite as, um, eager as she was with Severus. It seemed they had chemistry in spades.

She sighed with resignation and crawled into bed. She begrudgingly admitted that she understood his point that, especially given their near-catastrophic date the week before, they clearly needed to establish a bit more emotional intimacy before they progressed much further in physical intimacy. They were excellent friends, but as soon as the conversation steered towards anything too personal, Severus had a tendency to scuttle back into his shell. She supposed it was his years of spying, amongst other things, that left him reluctant to reveal anything. Still, it was annoying, at best, when she asked Severus an innocent question about his youth to find herself suddenly revealing the story of how, over the summer hols one year, her cousin had climbed the chestnut tree in the village square and hung ALL of Hermione's bras on its topmost branches. She'd nearly broken the ban on underage magic when she had found out what Rebecca had done. She still had nightmares about running down the street, braless of course, only to find that her aunt had summoned the fire department to rescue her undergarments. But what was even worse, she couldn't recall how Severus had managed to connive her into telling that most embarrassing story. No more cider for her, it seemed.

Honestly, though, she wasn't sure how she would survive his presence while continuously reining in her rampaging libido. She'd have to come up with some way to block out her thoughts of just how wonderful it felt to have his body pressed against her. Blocking my thoughts, hmmm, she thought before surrendering to a fit of giggles that had her laughing out loud and clutching her sides after several minutes. So that would be, what, Hypno-Libido? Crotchlumency? She wiped the tears from her eyes as her laughter waned.

Finally turning off the lights, Hermione settled under the covers. Crookshanks hopped up for a bit of attention. He curled against her and purred, and she lazily petted him as she drifted off to sleep.

Crotchlumency (noun) - the practice of occluding one's mind so as to avoid inappropriate thoughts of a sexual nature. Frequent examples include thoughts of Argus Filch or Minerva McGonagall in their skivvies.

Happy holidays again. The next chapter is circulating in betaland.