Three

Hermione stepped into the sun-lit street. Immediately, she was accosted by the noises of a busy place just after rush hour. She walked the short distance to the café where she would meet Severus and his contact. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted from the open door of a bakery and mingled with car fumes, the breeze from the sea, and an indistinguishable bouquet of other smells that formed the aroma of the city. She hummed a little tune as she crossed the street, and her step became a little springier. Les Danaïdes was right around the next corner.

Rounding the corner, she could see Severus through the window of the café. Today, he was wearing a white shirt. It looked gorgeous on him, especially in contrast to his black hair. He was talking to a woman. A very pretty woman. Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. He had never mentioned that his contact was female. From what Hermione could see from a distance, she was very slim with even features, large eyes, and straight auburn hair that fell in a lustrous sheen down to her waist. They were talking, and Severus slightly inclined his head, laughing at something she said.

Severus was laughing. With a very pretty woman. Hermione's stomach clenched, then she took a deep breath and walked inside.

She knew that her "bonjour" came out a tad frosty. The woman smiled at her. 'Right, I'd better be going. Remember, not before three this afternoon. If you need anything else, you know where to find me.' She rose and gave Severus a quick peck on each cheek, waved at Hermione and left.

Hermione glared after her.

'There isn't much going on in this city that she doesn't know,' Severus said.

'She's very pretty.'

Severus was watching Hermione closely. 'She is also very much in love with her husband.'

'And I'd want to know that because...?' Hermione snapped.

Severus didn't respond; only a tiny smile quickly flitted across his face.

'So, what's not before three this afternoon?' Hermione asked.

'The chance to meet the man who happens to have a book that very much resembles the one you're looking for,' Severus replied.

'Just like that?'

'Not quite. He's a scholar who occasionally parts with one of his books. He acquired a number of volumes a few days ago, and it seems, according to Martine's sources, yours might be among them.'

'This seems almost too easy. I've been looking for weeks, everywhere, and suddenly the book just turns up.' Hermione did her best not to sound petulant.

'As I said, there isn't much going on in this place Martine doesn't know or couldn't find out.'

'Martine, huh? Good friend of yours?' Hermione tried interrogation level one: polite enquiry, not too interested, the way she had used it often at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It didn't work.

Severus's mouth was twitching again. 'Not that good. You wouldn't want her as an enemy, though.'

'Right.' Hermione paused, then asked, 'Are you busy this morning?'

'I could take a day off. Was there anything particular you had in mind?'

Like getting you naked? Hermione quickly dispelled the delectable images her thought produced, wondering if Severus would mind. 'I... Would you show me your books?'

Severus hesitated a few seconds, then said, 'I suppose I could do that.'

'Do you live far from here?'

'It's a ten minute walk. Shall we?'

Hermione nodded. Together, they left the café and headed for Severus's flat.

The weather was warm again, and the city bristled with colours and activity while the soft breeze reminded them that the sea wasn't far. Hermione's step had become springy again.

Severus lived in what looked like a fairly quiet residential area. His flat was on the top floor of a neo-classical building. He unlocked the door and led the way into a long corridor; at the end of it, a stair leading further up was visible. As soon as she entered the flat, Hermione felt a familiar shift in the air. She turned to Severus. 'There's magic all over the place.'

'Of course there is. What did you expect?'

'But I thought you had gone Muggle.'

Severus stared at her as if she had suddenly grown another head. 'Why on earth would I want to live as a Muggle? Our abilities are a gift; I'd be a fool not to use them. Besides, what did you think I do for a living? Drive a bus?'

He had a point. 'What do you do for a living?'

'I'm a Potions master, remember? I brew for the local wizarding hospital and a number of apothecaries, especially the more complicated potions, and I work with two Healers on a number of new developments. I have a lab upstairs.' He pointed to the stairs at the end of the corridor; his face had become animated while he talked.

Now, it was Hermione who stared. 'You really do like potions, don't you?'

'Yes. I always have, and now I can do the more interesting stuff.'

She nodded, remembering his old book. It made perfect sense. Then another thought occurred to her.

'How come nobody found out about you? she asked. 'The war and everything must have been in the French wizarding papers, as well.'

'I'm not daft enough to use my real name.'

Of course, it figured. 'Right. The books?'

'Through there.' He gestured to a door on his right.

Walking through it, Hermione found herself standing in a large, high-ceilinged living room. Sunlight was flooding in from two tall windows on one wall. The desk standing under one of them was strewn with papers, books, and quills. All the other walls were lined with overflowing bookcases that stretched from floor to ceiling. The centre of the room was occupied by a large and comfy looking leather couch, a matching armchair, and a low wooden table. The atmosphere was warm and cosy, making Hermione feel right at home. She couldn't take her eyes off the bookshelves.

'The Collection is over there.' Severus pointed to the left corner. 'Coffee? Or tea?'

'Tea, please, with milk. I've been longing for a decent cuppa since I stepped off the train,' Hermione answered.

'I know what you mean.' With that, he disappeared.

Hermione walked over to the shelf he had indicated. His collection was about the same size as hers, but he had more foreign books, and some of the volumes looked very old.

By the time Severus returned with two steaming mugs, Hermione was sitting cross-legged on the floor, engrossed in a book of exquisite drawings.

Severus placed the mugs on the table and walked over to her. 'You could sit on the couch, you know. It isn't cursed.'

Hermione looked up to find him smiling at her. Her heart did a little leap at the sight. She got up and pointed at another book. 'That's a first edition, isn't it?'

'Yes, one of only three copies left. The others were destroyed by the authorities shortly after their publication.'

'Honestly, governments are so predictable it's almost boring.' She walked over to the couch, Severus in her wake.

'On the upside, one can hardly ever be disappointed. Is that why you stopped working for the Ministry?'

'That, and because they're a bunch of pricks who can't find their own arses without a map.'

'I see. No love lost, then.' There was a clear note of respect in Severus's voice and the way he looked at her.

'None whatsoever.' Hermione took a sip of tea. 'Oh, this is excellent.'

'Thank you. Have you looked at chapter four? There's some intriguing stuff there.'

Hermione turned to the chapter in question. 'That is... interesting.' She tilted the book sideways and squinted at the drawing again. 'Can you even do that?'

'If you're flexible.' Severus bent over the book as well.

'You'd have to be very flexible,' Hermione pointed out. Severus was sitting so close to her, she could feel his body heat. He smelled very nice again. Experimentally, she leaned against him, her head on his shoulder.

His arm came round her waist, and they continued to look through the book together. A few pages later, she put her hand on his chest and started to draw little circles with her thumb. In response, his own thumb begun to make a similar pattern on her belly, sending pleasant little shivers all the way down to her toes.

When they had finished looking through the book, Hermione's hand went to the side of Severus's neck, lightly stroking up and down; she stretched her head up and touched her mouth to his. His lips were warm and smooth; it didn't take long before their tongues found out that they still liked to tangle with each other. Repeatedly.

After a while, Severus's lips moved to her neck; she tilted her head to give him better access, and felt his hand sneak under her t-shirt, caressing her bare belly and slowly creeping upwards.

'Shit,' she exclaimed.

Severus raised his head from her neck. 'That isn't the reaction I was aiming for.'

Hermione wordlessly pointed to the clock on one of the shelves.

'Fuck.' They both scrambled up at the same time and bumped their heads, landing in an undignified tangle on the couch again.

'Ow. Sorry. You all right?'

'Yes, sorry.'

This time they managed to get up. Hermione grabbed her bag and Severus a jacket before they rushed downstairs to the bus stop.

They were lucky to catch a bus just as it was about to leave.

'Where are we going?'

'Noailles.'

They fell silent as the bus left the city centre, making its way into a different area. When they got off the bus, the window displays and signs on the shops had changed. Many of them were in Arabic letters, and the shops were selling hummus and bulgur rather than crêpes and baguettes. The whole area felt more Northern African then French, and Hermione would have loved nothing better than to go and explore, but they were late as it was.

Severus stopped in front of a small tea-room. 'Let me do the talking.'

'Why? Don't you think I can take care of myself?'

Severus looked confused for a second. 'Of course you can. That's not the point. Martine has vouched for me, not for you.'

'Oh, right.'

Inside, groups of men were sitting around tables, drinking tea from small glasses. Some of them were talking, some were reading newspapers, some were playing a board game. All heads turned to Hermione when they entered but quickly went back to what they were doing when Severus levelled a glare at them. He stepped up to the counter and asked the man behind something in a language Hermione couldn't understand. He nodded and pointed to a table in the back corner of the room. Severus walked over there, asking Hermione with the merest inclination of his head to follow him.

A young, black-haired man sat there, reading a book. When Severus approached him, he stood up, and the two men shook hands. Motioning for Severus and Hermione to follow him, he disappeared through a doorway that was closed off with a beaded curtain from the main room. They descended a few steps into a long corridor. Rounding a corner, they found themselves in another corridor, darker than the first but just as long, sloping steadily downward, leading them further beneath the building. After what seemed to Hermione like a very long time, they stopped in front of a stretch of blank wall. Their guide murmured something, making a wooden door appear. He nodded once, gesturing for Severus and Hermione to step inside. Behind the door was a spacious, well-lit room, its walls covered with overflowing bookshelves. In the middle of it stood a large, dark desk. The man sitting behind it, bent over a scroll of parchment, appeared to be very, very old. Hermione suspected he must be the oldest person she'd ever met, if his age was what his appearance seemed to suggest, but then it was hard to tell with wizards. He was clad in a set of pristine white robes, his head covered with a black scarf. His face was wrinkled, the skin stretched over his cheekbones; his eyes when he looked up at them were of a keen and lively intelligence. The two men exchanged what seemed to be a respectful greeting. After a conversation, in what Hermione had meanwhile identified as Arabic, the old wizard stood up and limped over to one of the shelves. He took down a book, wrapped in cloth. Severus gestured to Hermione to take a look. She stepped over to them and peered inside the cloth, her heart beating rapidly. She saw an ancient book, bound in black leather. There were the beautiful arabesques on the cover, the Malfoy crest, and some runes woven artfully into it. 'It looks like the right one,' she said.

Severus didn't give a sign that he had heard her; a rapid exchange between him and the other man followed, during the course of which both repeatedly pointed at the book. Finally, Severus turned to Hermione and said, 'Two-hundred-and-fifty Eurogalleons.'

Hermione pulled the money out of her bag and handed it to Severus, who gave it to their business partner. With a further flourish of words, the two men shook hands before the old man opened the door with a wave of his hand. They had barely stepped through it when it vanished noiselessly, leaving only a stretch of blank wall behind.

The younger man had been waiting to escort them back upstairs. A few yards into the street, Severus stopped and handed Hermione the wrapped book. She beamed at him. 'I can't believe we've got it. I'll still have to confirm that it's genuine, but I'm almost sure. Thank you so much!' She put his arms around him and kissed him.

Severus kissed her back for a few seconds before he peeled her arms off him. 'Much as I like this, my reputation around this area will be ruined if you behave like that, and I need to be able to come here again to buy potions ingredients.'

Hermione narrowed her eyes. 'Your reputation? What exactly was that last bit of conversation about?'

Severus's mouth was twitching again. 'He congratulated me on the beauty of my wife but said you looked like a handful.'

'Your... A handful, eh? You'd better watch it!' She started grinning as well.

'Or what?'

'Or else.' She cuffed his upper arm lightly.

'Oh, now I'm scared.'

'You'd better be.' Now, they were both laughing. It was the first time Hermione had ever heard Severus laugh. It was a lovely sound; a warm feeling started to spread through her.

While they were waiting for the bus to take them back to the city centre, she said, 'I didn't know you spoke Arabic.'

'Some of the oldest potions texts are in Arabic, and I like to be able to look at the original since translations tend to be garbled.'

'I know. That's why I learned Latin, so that I could read the originals of some of the older Charms books.'

Sitting on the bus, Hermione realised that now that they had found the book, Severus had no reason to agree to meeting her again. Her stomach clenched at the thought.

'Look, can I buy you dinner? As a thank you for all your help with the book? I'd never have been able to get it so quickly without you. I know it sounds awfully touristy, but I've wanted to try a Bouillabaisse, and maybe you know a good place for it and would like to come?'

'I'd love to have dinner with you. How do you feel about cooking?' Severus asked.

'Cooking?' Hermione had no idea what he was on about.

'Most of the stuff they sell as Bouillabaisse in restaurants is rather horrible. Why don't we get some fish and make our own? I've a fairly decent recipe at home,' he clarified.

Hermione beamed at him. 'Sounds perfect!'

'There's a market near my flat this afternoon. They should have everything we need,' Severus said.

A number of enticing smells wafted under their noses as they walked through the rows of stalls displaying freshly caught fish and seafood, all kinds of fruits and vegetables, meat, various kinds of cheese, wine, or freshly baked bread.

Hermione watched as Severus chose the fish, vegetables and herbs with care...the same concentration on his face she remembered from her Potions lessons. He picked up a bunch of thyme and held it up to his impressive nose. Obviously satisfied with the result, he turned it around and inspected it closely before he ripped off one of the leaves. After he had rubbed it between his thumb and his forefinger, he smelled it again.

He held out the bunch to Hermione. 'Smell this.'

'Smells good.'

'It does. You can buy ready made bouquets garnis, but I prefer to make my own.'

He bought the thyme together with a number of other herbs. Hermione usually hated shopping for food, but this was fun: the colours, the smells, and the man at her side. They picked up some fresh bread as well, then Severus asked, 'What would you like for dessert?'

How about a Potions master? Hermione thought but said, 'Anything you'd recommend?'

He looked at her with a rather hungry expression on his face that made her insides turn to jelly. 'Let's get some of the strawberries; they look delicious.'

*****

Back at the flat, Severus disappeared into the kitchen while Hermione took the book out of her bag to check it. She unwrapped it and put it in front of her on the low table. Running her wand over it a few times, she frowned and tried again. It was Malfoy's book. Still, something felt off. She picked it up, flipped through it, and weighed in her hand. Judging by its size, it should have been heavier. She ran her wand over it again with the same result. A third attempt with different spells produced no different outcome. She turned the book in her hands and was reminded by a low rumble from her stomach that her last meal had been breakfast. Still, what was up with the book? Had she missed something obvious? She ran her fingers along the seams of the binding. Nothing. Rubbing her tired eyes, Hermione decided to postpone the question. The book wasn't going anywhere, and the kitchen with a certain wizard in it seemed to be the better place for now. She wrapped the book in the cloth again and put it back into her bag before she walked over into the kitchen.

Severus was busy chopping tomatoes when she came in.

'All right?'

'I don't know. The scans confirm that it is Malfoy's book, but something feels off about it, though I can't put my finger on it.'

'Do you want me to take a look?' Severus offered.

'That would be great. Another pair of eyes never hurts. But let's eat first. What can I do?' Hermione asked.

'You could peel the onions,' he said, handing her the vegetables.

Hermione nodded and set to work. Severus moved on to clean the fish, heat olive oil in a pot with a wave of his wand, and peel cloves of garlic.

Hermione's eyes followed his hands as they moved, cut, stirred. His fingers were long and elegant and worked with the same meticulous precision she had seen so many years ago when he was working with Potions ingredients. Come to think of it, they had felt very nice on her belly a few hours ago as well...

'Hermione?' Her eyes snapped back to Severus's face.

'Yes?'

'I really need those onions.'

Hermione saw her knife lying forgotten next to a half-peeled onion. 'Erm... Sorry, got distracted.'

'I noticed,' Severus said. 'Why don't you just relax and let me cook?' He pointed his wand at the neglected onions; they obediently soared out of their skins and onto his cutting board where he quickly diced them before throwing them into the sizzling oil.

'Sorry, cooking isn't really my forte,' Hermione mumbled.

'I'd never have guessed.'

Hermione continued to watch him work. 'Why do you do so much of this by hand? Wouldn't it be easier to simply use your wand?'

'Because some things need to be done manually to achieve the best results. It takes more time, but it's worth the effort.'

'So, no foolish wand-waving in cooking either,' Hermione said with a smile.

For a moment, Severus looked puzzled. 'Oh, that. That seems such a long time ago. But, yes, that's one way of putting it.'

*****

'This looks gorgeous.' Hermione watched as Severus levitated the opened bottle of wine onto the table. A bowl of steaming broth sat next to a basket with freshly cut bread and a smaller bowl of rouille. The fish, seafood, vegetables, and potatoes were neatly arranged onto a large platter and kept under a warming charm. The delicious aroma of herbs and spices reminded her how hungry she was.

They began with the broth, accompanied by slices of bread with rouille. After they had finished their first course, they ate their way through the fish and vegetables.

Hermione lay down her fork with a little sigh. 'That was absolutely delicious. You're a marvellous cook.'

'Thank you. Shall we take our dessert up to the roof garden? It should still be warm enough.'

'You have a roof garden?'

'Upstairs.'

'Excellent. That means I get to see your lab, as well.' Hermione took the two glasses and a new bottle of wine and went for the stairs.

'You might be disappointed,' Severus muttered, following her with the bowl of strawberries.

At the top of the stairs, she found herself in a small, well-kept potions lab. A row of clean cauldrons stood on a ledge over a washbasin. Two of the other walls were lined with shelves of jars and glasses in which all kinds of potions ingredients were visible. The middle of the room was taken up by a workbench, its surface empty and clean. Hermione looked around; no gently simmering cauldrons with interestingly wafting fumes, no scrolls of parchment with notes on his latest experiments, no mysterious ingredients on the table ready to be tipped into a simmering cauldron. It actually was a bit of a letdown.

The roof garden more than made up for it. It was so tiny that a small bench and an even smaller table took up all the space, but the view over the city was spectacular. They sat quietly for a bit, drinking their wine and nibbling at the strawberries until Hermione moved closer to Severus. Leaning against him, she held one of the red fruits up to his mouth. He picked it delicately from her fingertips and then held one out in turn for her. When Hermione took it, she kept his two fingers in her mouth and started to gently swirl her tongue around them.

Severus pulled his fingers slowly out of her mouth and bent over to her. He tasted of wine and strawberries as he pulled her closer to him. She brought one of her hands up to stroke the nape of his neck while his fingers gently combed through her bushy mane. She broke the kiss to feed him another strawberry; in turn, he offered her a sip of wine before their lips met again.

His hand found its way back under her shirt and continued to stroke her where he had left off that afternoon, slowly moving upwards and sending pleasant little shivers through Hermione, which pooled in her lower belly. Severus placed little kisses on the corner of her mouth, along her jaw and her temple before he proceeded to nibble at her earlobe. His hand was now stroking her breast through the lacy fabric of her bra, which produced a little sigh from her. Good thing this morning she had chosen the prettier of the two bras she had brought with her.

"This morning" seemed like a very long time ago after a day of running around. In the same clothes. And in much warmer weather than she was used to at this time of year. Ew.

'Look, this is all very nice, but I feel a bit sticky...'

Severus stiffened in an instant. He withdrew his hand and moved away from her as far as the small bench allowed. 'If you want to go back to your hotel, just say so. You don't have to feel you have to repay me or something.'

Hermione glared at him. 'There's no need to insult me. If you want me to leave, just say it,' she snapped.

Severus stared at her, expressions she couldn't read quickly flitting over his face. Finally, he said, 'I don't want you to leave.'

'Fine. I said I'm feeling a bit sticky. What I meant was, I'm feeling a bit sticky.'

'Sorry.' His voice was so low, she could barely hear him.

'It's getting cold out here.' Hermione stood up and gathered their glasses; the mood was ruined, anyway. She didn't wait to see if Severus followed her.

Downstairs, she slammed the glasses on the kitchen counter so hard that one of them broke. With an absent wave of her hand, she restored it to its original form. How could anyone so brilliant be such a bloody idiot? Or so insecure, which didn't make him any less of an idiot.

'Sorry.'

Without a word, she stalked past him, gathered her bag and left, taking care to bang the door behind her.

Her anger lasted until she stood in the empty street, realising that she would never see him again. Her job was done; she had the book. Tomorrow, she would return to London, hand the book over to Lucius Malfoy, and get on with her life. It was better this way.

Rain started to fall. Not a soft spring drizzle but a veritable downpour. She ducked into the next entrance. She watched the drops falling in rapid succession, splashing on the pavement and producing little torrents before they settled down into a puddle. The puddles looked inky-black in the rain-dimmed streetlights. Inky-black like a pair of eyes. Eyes that could hold a whole room full of grown men in check. Eyes that glittered with intelligence and amusement. Eyes that had just looked at her with a longing so intense that just thinking about it had her catch her breath.

Hermione turned and ran back the way she had just come. By the time she reached Severus's building, she was completely drenched. She climbed the five flights of stairs and started pounding at his door. When he opened the door and saw her standing there, Severus's face lit up.

'You're an idiot,' she said, putting her arms around him.

He pulled her close, cold and dripping as she was and just held her for a moment.

'I do have a bathroom, you know,' he whispered in her ear.

'With a shower?'

'Mmh.'

'Care to join me?'

*****

In the bathroom, they stood in front of the shower cubicle looking at each other, neither of them moving a finger until Hermione slowly ran her hand up Severus's chest and started to unbutton his shirt, kissing and stroking every inch of skin she exposed. Judging by the little noises he was making, he seemed to liked it.

In return, he pulled her shirt up. She helpfully stretched her arms upward so that he could pull it over her head, leaving her clad only in her bra and jeans. She could feel his eyes caressing her skin before his hands followed, making her tingle all over.

Hermione pushed his shirt off his shoulders, leaving his upper torso bare, then she quickly unclasped her bra. Severus's hands cupping her breasts felt wonderful. Her nipples perked up under his attention before he pulled her into his arms once more.

His mouth on hers felt every bit as good as it had before, as did his hands roaming over her bare back.

'This is wonderful, but I really do want that shower,' she mumbled into his ear a considerable while later.

'I know.' With a wave of his hand, the rest of their clothes disappeared. Hermione gasped as she felt his naked body against hers. Maybe that shower could wait, after all.

Severus reached around her to turn on the water. It felt pleasantly warm, running down her body. She stretched under it to relax her tense muscles; Severus's mouth on her neck and shoulder helped considerably to relieve any remaining tension.

A very nice smell was drifting into her nose, an enticing mixture of something herbal and lemony.

'Mmmh, very nice. What's that?'

'Shampoo and shower gel.'

'I don't think I have ever smelled anything similar before.' Gentle hands were shampooing her hair and massaging her scalp. She almost purred.

'It's my own mixture.' He proceeded to wash her body, especially her breasts, which seemed to need a lot of attention. Hot wetness was pooling between her legs; judging from what was pressing into her backside, Severus seemed to be enjoying the shower, as well. For a second, she wondered if he had ever done this before, remembering the things Harry had told her. She quickly forgot what she was thinking as his teeth nibbled at her earlobe.

His hands spread shower gel over her belly, moving up her sides before they went down again and finally reached the place where she wanted them so urgently. Nimble fingers teased, stroked and explored. Hermione moaned and pressed her bum against him.

She felt him nudging her legs apart. She happily obliged, bending forward a bit and bracing her hands on the shower wall. It took them a bit of fumbling, making her think that there were probably better places to be doing this, then all thought was quickly lost as she felt him push slowly inside her. He remained still for a moment, then started to move slowly while his thumb stroked her between the legs. It felt wonderful, making her moan with delight.

Soon, she was pushing back against him. 'Harder!'

The request was repeated a few times, and then she was drowning in sensation.

Her legs were shaking when she became aware of the tiles beneath her feet again, and her skin felt wrinkly from the water that was still pouring down on them. Behind her, Severus was breathing heavily, his arm still around her.

She leaned back against him, yawning.

Severus briefly nuzzled her neck. 'Bed?'

'Excellent.'

A/N: Eurogalleons are my invention, assuming that the wizarding world has adopted a similar system of currencies as the Muggle one. According to JKR, one Galleon roughly equals five Pounds. The sum Hermione pays is based on the assumption that the exchange rate of Galleons to Eurogalleons would be similar to that of the British Pound to the Euro.

Many thanks to Melusin, Anogete and Chivalric for their fabulous beta and alpha reading skills.