Chapter 9

This Time

Chapter 9

I'm just another mistake

That you're not gonna make

Another Mistake - Evan and Jaron

Severus cast the Warming Charm again, then pulled the dark blue hooded jacket more tightly around himself. The sun was rising in the east, slowly lightening the sky, dispelling the mist which floated just above the surface of the lake. It was November first, a fine autumn Saturday morning; later today, he had Quidditch practice, for their first game was in two weeks, against Hufflepuff. Normally, the thought of practice gave him a thrill of anticipation, but today, his heart was heavy.

In a life marked by perpetual self-loathing, he had seldom hated himself more.

She had set him alight with madness in her flimsy genie costume, flirting and teasing...not maliciously, but with the innocence of a kitten playing with a ball of wool.

You're the fool at fault for this insanity! the snide voice in his head informed him.

Ignoring the voice, he replayed that moment when he'd slipped the leash of reality...when he had seen the edge of the gryphon tattoo at the small of her back...and the unreality had not ended until they tore themselves apart well past the one o'clock curfew, both aroused beyond bearing from their kisses and caresses.

And she was the one responsible for that, the relentless critic within reminded him. She was burdened with the responsibility of acting as an adult because you were entirely lost in lust and beyond the call of reason!

His prick stirred again at the memory, for he had clearly felt the warmth of her quim against his leg, pressed as it had been between her thighs. As they had clung and kissed behind the mocking jack-o-lantern, he had wanted nothing more than to bury himself within her, over and again, to expel the lunacy of desire in the rush of his seed within her body.

Severus closed his eyes. Now what the fuck was he supposed to do? How could he resume his everyday life as Adin Prince after that performance with Hermione Granger? What would she expect of him now? Would she want him to sit with her at meals and in classes, hold her hand as they walked down the corridors, and cuddle with her in an armchair in the common room? Would she expect him to be her boyfriend? His lip curled in self-derision.

As if.

Don't be a bigger dunderhead that you already are, arse! the scornful adult Severus in his head thundered. No one has ever had any use for you in such a capacity.

It was true, of course. There had been women...bed mates, transitory, emotionless affairs, but never had he loved or been loved...not since Lily, and then, only unequally, in different ways and with divergent intentions. He thought of her now with scarcely a pang, his first and only love...but the scars would always be with him.

Why? a traitorous, younger voice whispered, and he found himself far more willing to listen to it than to his older self. Adin never knew Lily Evans...never loved her...bears no emotional trauma as a result of his loss of her friendship.

'Shut the fuck up,' he snarled out loud, suddenly finding himself at odds with both of the voices vying for his cooperation. He lunged to his feet and began to walk, his mind whirling furiously.

He had been sidetracked by the dubious joys of adolescence: befriending the likes of Neville Longbottom; playing Quidditch with Potter and Weasley, neither of whom would have stood for his presence on their precious team if they had the least notion of whom he really was; frolicking at a bloody masked ball like an imbecile, snogging and groping a teenaged girl as if it were either wise or proper for him to do so.

What had he been thinking? He was Severus Snape, a pathetic excuse for a man who couldn't even keep himself in emotional check long enough to complete the research to regain his own body and his own reality.

What's so special about that reality? the younger, renegade voice whispered softly. What's wrong with this one?

He went still, staring with unseeing eyes across the school grounds as the question rattled about in his mind. Then he began to walk again, giving his head a shake for good measure. His stomach rumbled, and he realised he was trudging back towards the castle. No wonder he was plagued with ridiculous notions...he was starving. His seventeen-year-old body informed him that if he was going to insist upon being awake at this ungodly hour, then it would require sustenance. He reflected that few of the students in the upper years would rise to attend the meal after the debauchery of the previous night. He and Hermione had certainly not been the only ones to succumb to the lure of anonymous intrigue; there would undoubtedly be, at the very least, emotional fallout today from the happenings of last night. He grinned in amusement; it would be fun to watch the bloodshed.

And as for his problems, all he needed was a good plan...and he had not spent the best part of twenty-five years intimately associated with the denizens of Slytherin House without picking up a pointer or two on how to manipulate a situation to his best advantage. He had no wish to hurt Hermione...he would gladly take a curse for her, to keep her from harm...but it was his duty to protect her from himself, as well, was it not? Surely he could find a way to extract himself from the situation without exposing Hermione to lasting injury.

Feelings, as he well knew, were easily hurt, but soon mended...after a fashion.

He was deep in his Potions homework when she found him in their library alcove, and she had to speak to him twice before he looked up.

'Hi,' he said, standing courteously, glad to see that she was wearing jeans and a bulky jumper in an unflattering shade of orange. It would be an excellent thing if they could manage a day with no accidental tattoo sightings.

'Hi,' she replied, looking a bit self-conscious. 'I didn't see you at lunch ...'

'I wasn't hungry,' he lied, conscious of the cake crumbs in his pockets. Actually, he had loaded up on extras before leaving breakfast.

'Oh,' she said, looking as if she felt rather wrong-footed.

Ignoring the pounding of his heart and the inner voice that bade him to snatch her up and pick right up where they had left off the night before, Severus took pity on her and pushed a stack of parchment slightly to one side, providing a place for her to set down her books. With averted eyes and a shy smile, she took him up on his invitation and sat down.

Immediately, he set his plan in action, resuming his seat and speaking to her in tones dripping with sincerity.

'Hermione, I'm so sorry about last night...I hope you can forgive me and we can still be friends.'

She raised too-wide brown eyes to his face, and for a moment, he was distracted by her slightly swollen lips, still bruised, as were his own, by the mutual violence of the precious night's kisses. 'What do you mean?' she asked, drawing his focus away from her mouth.

'I was out to have a good time,' he said. 'I'm not looking for a girlfriend...and I respect you too much to have been mucking about with you.' Doggedly, he kept his eyes on her face, trying to gauge her mood, hoping that he had been correct in his estimation of her reaction.

She bridled, her lips pressed tight, and tossed her hair before flipping open her Ancient Runes text. 'Did you think I was looking for a boyfriend?' she demanded in a high, brittle voice. 'I don't have time for one.'

He felt a flash of disappointment...did she really have no further use for him? Had their time together meant so little to her?

You can't say I didn't tell you so, his adult voice informed him.

Still, he was relieved...she wasn't going to make a scene, and she was at least going to pretend not to be mad at him. He leapt from his seat and began to shove his books into his bag. 'Great!' he said. 'I've got Quidditch practice, so I'll see you later.'

He fled the alcove, almost certain that she followed his retreat with reproachful eyes. As he strode through the hallways, the ever-present turmoil filled his chest with emotion. No matter what action he took to deal with the Hermione problem, it seemed there was always some new difficulty to further complicate his life. In its way, trying to avoid having a relationship with Hermione Granger was every bit as difficult...and as treacherous...as being Dumbledore's spy amongst the minions of the Dark Lord.

Dean and Ron had their heads together in the changing room when Severus arrived for Quidditch practice, and they were all too willing to lay their woes on Adin, who had proved to be the giver of good advice in the past.

'... and it was Padma, all the time,' Dean moaned, banging his head against the wall in frustration. 'And Parvati was all tangled up with some Slytherin bloke...that handsome one, Zabini!'

Severus traded looks with Ron, and the ginger-haired wizard said tentatively to Dean, 'You snogged her sister, mate...she might've forgiven you for someone else ... but her own sister?' He shook his head regretfully.

Dean scowled at him. 'Well at least I didn't get caught out with a fourth-year,' he goaded.

Severus snorted derisively. 'A fourth-year?'

Ron turned his back on them both and pulled his Quidditch robes over his head. 'You should've seen the way she filled out that cocoanut bra!' he snapped.

Severus blanched. The girl in the grass skirt had been a fourth-year? Circe's knickers! That had been a near miss...rather too near for comfort. Good thing Hermione's tattoo had put in an appearance at just the right time ...

'You should've set up a place to meet,' Potter said, appearing beside the lockers, his Firebolt in hand. 'That's what Ginny said we should do, and it worked out fine.'

Dean traded a droll look with Severus; everyone knew Ginny kept Potter on a very short leash.

'That reminds me,' Severus said, 'we had a flutter on how Neville's night would turn out...have you asked him?'

Ron and Potter laughed, and Dean groaned and cradled his face in his hands. 'I didn't have to ask him,' he muttered, rubbing at his eyes. 'He wouldn't shut up...we didn't go to sleep until after five o'clock.'

Severus chuckled. 'In other words, you owe me a Galleon?'

'He didn't snog one girl,' Dean said, digging into his pocket and slapping a Galleon in Severus' extended hand, 'he snogged three.'

The team began to move out the door to the Quidditch pitch, and Severus followed, his Nimbus 3000 resting on his shoulder. 'Who were the girls?' he asked, genuinely curious.

'Not a Gryffindor in the bunch!' Ron said with a smirk. 'He snogged Millicent Bulstrode from Slytherin ...'

Severus' estimation of Neville's personal courage climbed a few notches; not many blokes would have the balls to kiss even a heavily disguised Miss Bulstrode.

'And Susan Bones from Hufflepuff,' Dean added.

'And Luna,' Potter finished for them. 'She was on to Ginny about it all the way through lunch,' he added darkly. 'I couldn't help overhearing them.'

'Good show, Neville,' Severus murmured to himself, kicking off to begin practice with a grin. As occurs in the glorious world of a seventeen-year-old boy, the troubles which had plagued him thirty minutes before had faded away to a whisper at the back of his mind, and he was gleeful in his enjoyment of this camaraderie.

At dinner that night, the Gryffindor table was still buzzing with the aftermath of the happenings at the ball. To Severus' discomfort, Potter and Ron took it into their heads to question Hermione.

'Which costume were you in again?' Ron asked her between huge bites of shepherd's pie.

'Never mind, Ronald,' Hermione responded tightly, keeping her eyes on her sprouts.

'You told me you were dressed like a harem girl,' Lavender said, stirring the pot spitefully.

Ron gaped, providing them all with a view of partially masticated potatoes. 'That was you?' he said thickly.

Potter frowned. 'I saw you,' he said. 'You danced the whole night with some bloke in a fancy green coat.'

'Who was it, Hermione?' Ron asked, pouring another goblet of pumpkin juice.

Severus froze, darting a glance at her from the corner of his eyes, but she was ignoring him, now cutting up her sprouts into tiny pieces, as if preparing them for a potion.

'I don't know,' she said stoically.

'I saw you outside with him,' Lavender said, keeping the cauldron boiling.

Hermione looked up sharply. 'What were you doing outside?' she inquired pointedly.

Lavender laughed with a malicious glance at Ron. 'I was getting a breath of fresh air,' she said.

'With Terry Boot?' Ron demanded angrily.

Hermione began eating again with some semblance of relief when Ron and Lavender began their loud squabbling, and Severus watched her with a mixture of admiration and relief. She would not permit her friends to bully her into talking when she wasn't interested in sharing...and she had saved him from some uncomfortable questioning by Potter and Ron. He would have flashed her a smile of thanks, but she did not deign to look at him.

'That's interesting,' Jared said, leaning towards Severus and speaking in a confidential tone. 'She went outside with someone ...'

Severus glared at him. 'What are you on about?' he demanded roughly.

Jared blinked his placid hazel eyes. 'Hermione,' Jared said cautiously, watching Severus' face. 'She's very nice, and terribly clever, and I was getting on with her very well before ...'

'Before getting pissed and taking liberties?' Severus said acidly.

Jared sighed noisily. 'That was unfortunate,' he admitted. 'It won't happen again. I shall have to go slowly with her,' he declared. 'Be patient and understanding ...'

Severus sneered at him. 'Do you think she'll be stupid enough to fall for that act?' he hissed.

'It will be no act,' Jared responded seriously. 'I would very much like to make her my girlfriend.'

Severus slammed his fork onto the table and stood. 'Allison wants to be your girlfriend, numbskull. Why don't you try looking at what's right under your nose?' he snarled before stalking away, reminding himself that it was none of his business if every seventh-year male in the entire school decided to pursue Hermione Granger.

His plan had delivered him from Hermione's reproaches, but it had not provided for his comfort beyond that initial reprieve, he realised as the November days passed and the breach between them lingered. She occasionally showed her face in their shared study alcove, but she was all business, actually studying and working on her homework and responding to his conversational overtures only as they pertained to their assignments. Her manner towards him in the Special Studies class was cordial, if cool, a marked difference from the warmth she demonstrated to Jared, who was making good on his plan of wooing her, a course of action which was making not only Severus miserable, but Allison as well.

'Did you enjoy the masked ball?' he asked Allison in desperation, when he saw her watching Jared and Hermione with tear-filled blue eyes.

'Not really,' Allison said. 'The boys who asked me to dance were all rather stupid.' She looked up into his face. 'I can't abide stupid boys.'

Edging away from her, he dipped his head and began to scribble in his notes. 'I can appreciate that,' he temporised, wondering how he had inherited the mantle of Allison's appeaser. Jared had been Allison's friend since they were children...why wasn't he supporting her spirits? Because Jared was an unfeeling git, Severus decided, and the git had no business trying to chat up Hermione, who deserved better.

Snap out of it, he chided himself, striding out of the classroom when the bell rang. She can be with anyone she wants, as long as it isn't me.

The next Saturday was Hogsmeade day. The students were lively at breakfast in anticipation of the treat.

'Are you coming, mate?' Dean asked as he and Neville pulled on their hats and gloves against the bitter wind.

Severus turned his shoulder so he would not have to watch Jared hovering solicitously over Hermione and shook his head, causing his fringe to fall into his eyes. He had kept his hair trimmed about his ears and along his collar, but he had allowed the fringe to grow out, finding it useful, at times, for hiding his eyes. As long as he kept it clean, he saw no danger in it increasing Adin's resemblance to Severus Snape.

'I'm staying,' he answered Dean, breathing an internal sigh of relief as he saw Hermione leaving the Great Hall with Jared following her. 'Homework,' he added vaguely, knowing his mates would wonder at his reasons.

At last, the Gryffindors cleared out, and he poured another cup of coffee, forcing himself to think about his Arithmancy essay rather than the snug fit of Hermione's jeans ...

'Good morning, Adin.'

He started, splashing a bit of hot coffee on his hand. 'Is there a problem?' he hissed at Luna, darting his eyes from side-to-side to see who was watching them.

'Yes,' she responded sadly, sitting down beside him and fastening her protuberant eyes on his face.

He swallowed nervously. 'What?' he bit out.

'Neville,' Luna said despondently.

'Longbottom?' he asked, beginning to feel that he and Luna were not having the same conversation.

'Yes,' she agreed.

'Well?' he said. 'What's the problem with Neville?'

'He kissed me,' Luna said, obviously unhappy.

'I'm sorry if you didn't like it,' he said, beginning to display his exasperation, 'but what do you expect me to do about it?'

'Oh no,' Luna said, 'I liked it very much...it was my very first kiss.'

He sighed heavily. 'I don't understand what you want, Luna,' he said.

'You're his friend,' Luna explained. 'I want to know if he liked kissing Susan and Millicent as much as he liked kissing me.'

He stared at her. 'You want me to do what?'

'Ask him who he likes and tell me,' Luna said simply.

Severus didn't bother to answer her; instead, he stood up abruptly and stalked away, pulling on his gloves as he went. Yes, he had worn his cloak down to breakfast, just in case he decided to go to Hogsmeade, after all. He hurried out into the icy air, intent on catching up to Hermione and her escort.

He had avoided the previous two Hogsmeade visits, but he had been at war with himself all morning about this one.

It's the perfect time to talk to her away from school, he thought.

You're not interested in talking to her, his adult self argued. You want to get your hands on her arse.

He scowled as he strode along the lane to Hogsmeade, keeping a keen eye out for his quarry. He didn't want to touch her. Even if he did dream about her every bloody night, he knew he dared not touch her. He just wanted to make sure that Jared didn't touch her. Jared was clearly unworthy of her, wasn't he?

Nodding curtly in response to the greetings he received from other students, he continued on until he spotted Hermione on the pavement outside Scrivenshaft's, with Jared in attendance. They entered the shop, and Severus glared at the door, debating whether or not to enter. Deciding that Jared could do little mischief in a crowded quill shop, he leant a shoulder against the empty shop-front across from Scrivenshaft's and waited.

Soon, the two emerged, and Hermione saw him. She looked directly at him before turning away and continuing on down the street to Honeydukes; from there, Severus trailed her and Jared to Dervish and Banges, then to Gladrags. As she exited each shop, Hermione met his eyes. He smirked; obviously, the lady had no objections to him trailing her on her Hogsmeade date...she was making no protest at all.

Finally, at noon, she led Jared to the Three Broomsticks, just in time for lunch. Severus' stomach growled as he followed them into the pub, and seeing Jared guide Hermione to a cosy table for two, he grabbed a chair and dragged it between them.

'I'm famished,' he said cheerfully.

'Adin,' Jared said, 'I'm not sure there's room for ...'

'I won't take up much room,' Severus assured the other boy. 'Just budge up a bit.' He pushed Jared's chair away from the table and turned to smile at Hermione. 'Isn't this nice?'

She was giggling too much to answer him.

On Sunday afternoon in their study alcove, she wasn't nearly so accommodating.

She walked in and set her bag on the table, watching him with a very serious expression. Her impossibly bushy hair was bound in a pony-tail, and today she wore jeans with a thin aqua jumper, woven of a material that looked so soft he longed to smooth his hands over it. Rather than sitting, she looked down into his face, her brow knit in puzzlement.

'You don't want me,' she said musingly, 'but you follow me all over Hogsmeade like some sort of stalker and sit yourself between me and a boy who might be interested in being my boyfriend. What do you mean by it?'

Severus opened his mouth to refute her, but Adin's thought was the first one spoken.

'I never said I don't want you,' he answered levelly.

She moved quickly, sliding into the empty chair and leaning earnestly towards him. 'Then, why?'

His inner adult was shouting instructions, but he was not attending. She was right beside him, her body clothed in softness that was crying out for his touch, the puff of her peppermint breath fanning over his face, inciting him to seek its source. Now, he moved quickly, leaning into the neutral zone separating them, watching her dark lashes sweep down as her eyes closed a fraction of a second before his lips found hers.

She raised a hand to his face, fingertips ghosting over his cheek before trailing over his neck in search of his hair. When her fingers laced in those strands, he reached for her, his hands closing on the silky softness of the pale blue sweater and smoothing down her back, then up again. The sensation was divine, the tactile feast of unbelievable softness over the undeniably lush curves of the body beneath. The very thought pulled a growl from him, and he was urging her with insistent hands from her chair to his lap, never releasing her lips, until he had her where he wanted her, her bottom feeling exactly right as it squirmed atop his aching prick.

What passed then was perhaps the longest kiss in the history of adolescence...certainly in the experience of one Severus Snape, whose protests had been entirely subsumed to the desires of Adin Prince, who needed the girl in his arms more than the next breath drawn into his lungs through his overlarge nose. She fed this notion with her entirely too enthusiastic response to their kiss, which she had bloody well brought upon herself by having the nerve to show up alone, wearing that jumper and looking at him just so ...

His hands, having mapped every dip and curve from her nape to her waist, as if making a topographical study for the benefit of a blind man, slid to her front, intent upon making the trip up her tummy to her ribcage, and from thence to the promised land of the breasts pressed enticingly to his chest...but she caught then at his wrists and broke their kiss, looking into his face with such slumberous, passion-smudged eyes that he wanted nothing but to kiss her again.

'Then why?' she asked again, her voice sounding thick, as if she were speaking through treacle.

Severus looked at her, this brilliant, ardent witch in his arms, and knew he had never wanted anything as he wanted her. 'I'm too old for you,' he admitted sadly, his own voice sounding every bit as husky as hers had done.

He knew he had answered incorrectly when she pulled away from him to stand on her feet, a frown puckering her brow as she struggled to surface from the river of lethargy they had created betwixt them. 'Too old?' she repeated. 'Are you even eighteen yet?'

The heat began to recede from his brain in time with the stiffness leaving his cock; he sat straighter in his chair and tilted his head, allowing the fringe to fall into his eyes. 'That's not the point,' he muttered, sounding exactly like a teenaged boy whose reasoning has been turned back on him.

It was alarming how quickly a female could make the transition from purely shaggable to entirely avoidable. Her hands settled on her hips, where lately his hands had rested, and the delicious, sultry tone disappeared from her voice. 'What's the matter with you?' she demanded, her eyes overly bright and her lips twisted, as if against severe pain.

His arousal having subsided to the point that he could stand again, Severus lurched to his feet and shoved his books into his bag willy-nilly. Adin had forced him to kiss the girl, and Severus forced him to flee from her. What was it going to be? Who got to decide?

'I don't need this,' he snarled and stormed away from her, his confusion at a crisis point.