Chapter Three: Explorations and Explanations

Disclaimer: The characters and settings belong to JKR. I'm just taking them out for a wee picnic.

Chapter Three: Explorations and Explanations

"So, how's my competition behaving?" Harry asked as he wiped the last dinner dish.

"Snape? He actually sat down and had a coffee today. Didn't say much except to complain about the espresso he ordered." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Sounds about right. Do you think he'll join you tomorrow?"

"No idea. But I'll ask him again. You never know, Harry, he might sweep me off my feet and take me back to his place to seduce me." She grinned as her would-be suitor snorted. "Okay, okay, chance would be a fine thing. Can you imagine Snape trying to seduce anyone?"

"Hermione, that's not something I want to imagine! Stop it!"

"You're just afraid I'll find he has something you haven't. You know I've always admired his mind... and his courage... and his loyalty... and that voice..."

"Keep that up and I might start fancying him myself," Harry warned with a waggle of his eyebrows. "Oi. Don't laugh. Wizarding society doesn't see anything wrong with that, you know."

"No, Harry. It's the thought of you and Snape." Hermione collapsed onto the couch, laughing, then suddenly stopped and stared at Harry with a speculative gleam in her eye.

"What? You don't really think I would..."

"No. But," she purred, "I bet it would be hot to watch!"

"Hermione Jane Granger! If your mother could hear you now, she'd be mortified! Wash your mouth out, woman!"

Hermione bent over double again in mirth. "You're so easy to wind up, Potter. You should have seen your face!" She just managed to catch the cushion he tried to whack her with before it connected.

"Bloody hell. I have no idea why I even want to be your boyfriend." Harry twisted his grip and pushed the cushion behind the still-giggling witch's head as he straddled her on the couch, hands on either side of her head. Faces mere inches apart, he swallowed hard as their eyes met in the sudden, charged silence.

"I don't know either," she whispered, warm breath caressing his face.

"Because you're brilliant, caring, honest, brave..." His lips barely touched hers, a promise, nothing more. "And so beautiful." Harry stood, his arousal clearly evident to them both, looked down, and quirked his lips in a rueful smile. "I think I'd better go upstairs, now. Good night, love."

Hermione slumped back and sighed as the door closed behind him. Matching his passion would be surprisingly easy, but she knew if she did, there would be too many questions left unanswered, possibilities unexplored. For despite her flippant words, she could not remove the idea of Severus Snape as something more than just a sour ex-teacher from her imagination. The almost-smile she had caught on his face as she had teased him that morning had left her wanting more.

Frowning, the young woman shook her head. Fancying two men at the same time was something other girls had problems with, not Hermione Granger. Especially when one of them was supremely unaware of her interest. Damn you, Potter. If you hadn't teased me about Snape being your rival, I would never have begun thinking about him in that way. It'll be all your own fault if I decide I prefer him. That settled, she headed upstairs to bed.

Harry did not make an appearance at breakfast, having left the house early. Hermione suspected it was not extra diligence on his part that took him to work so early, but appreciated the time to think anyway. Such was the state of Hermione's mind as she sat at her customary table at the cafe, she didn't notice Snape approaching until he had seated himself and beckoned to the waitress. His scowl forbade her from commenting while she watched him take the first sip of his latte. Smiling at the faint relaxation in the lines of his forehead as the exquisite brew worked its magic, she broke her muffin into two pieces and, taking half herself, pushed the plate with the other half over to Snape's side of the table. His raised brow was met with a smile and a shrug as she took a bite of her portion.

"That was not necessary," he told her after he had finished every last crumb on the plate. "But thank you."

"You're welcome, sir," she replied.

A pained look crossed his face at her words. "Snape will do. The honorific is unnecessary, Miss Granger."

Hermione decided to risk chasing the touchy wizard away. "Hermione will be fine, Severus. I'm not really all that fond of formalities, anyway."

"So I've noticed." His lips quirked into that almost-smile again as he indicated her plate and stood to leave. He paused as if to say something but merely tipped his head slightly. "Good day, Hermione."

"Good day, Severus," she replied.

A visit to the Indian takeaway around the corner from Grimmauld Place served to provide dinner that evening. Hermione had far too much to think about to bother with cooking. She had quickly showered and dressed in jeans and a brief top with her hair pulled loosely into a ponytail. Expecting Harry home any moment, she refreshed the Warming Charm on the food and set out the plates and cutlery. Unaccustomed as she was to the sensation of butterflies in her stomach, she had opened the wine already and was pouring her second glass of fortification when the object of her anxiety walked through the door.

"Hi." His nervous smile met hers.

"Hi. Curry for dinner," she said brightly. "Go and make yourself presentable, and I'll pour you a drink."

"Okay. Be right back." The rapid thump of footsteps on the stairs reminded Hermione of how much had changed in the previous week. When before she would have been rolling her eyes at her housemate's rowdiness, now she struggled not to think of how he would be stripping off his clothes and standing naked under the shower. Such imaginings would have previously had her snorting at her own boldness. Now, her body heated as she wondered what would happen if she went upstairs and knocked on the bathroom door. A muffled whimper escaped her when the door opened and bare feet padded along to his room. He was naked but for a towel. Naked, and only one floor above. Did she dare?

"Here, I brought your wine." His door was partly open.

"Hang on. I'm not decent!" Harry lunged for the towel he had tossed onto the bed.

Hermione grasped her wand and Summoned the towel. Grinning, she teased. "Here, come and get it."

"Hermione!" Harry crossed his hands in front of his groin and groaned as she deliberately allowed her eyes to travel the length of his body, which was responding to her scrutiny with a mind of its own. "You're embarrassing me!"

"You weren't embarrassed a few days ago. What's changed, Harry?" It was amazing how much a little wine helped.

"This." He raised his hands to reveal the hard truth of her effect on him. "I can't help it, Herm. When you look at me like that..."

Hermione dragged her eyes upwards to meet the green of his. Stepping closer, she dropped the towel on the floor and reached for his hand. Placing it flat on her chest between her breasts, she smiled. "Feel what you do to me, Harry."

"It's beating so fast. And your skin is so soft." Slowly and deliberately, he allowed his fingers to drift lower until they caressed the swell of her breast beneath her tank top. Her response was evident through the thin fabric, uninhibited by any undergarment. "Oh, gods, Hermione, I need to see you."

Mind fuzzy with desire, Hermione took the hem of her top and pulled it over her head. Exposing herself for the first time to the young man she had known for ten years, she blushed.

"Beautiful." He traced a path down to one of her rosy nipples and explored the difference in texture, forgetting his own arousal until he felt her hands exploring it in turn. Reality returned with a bracing slap to remind him of his promise. "No, love. I gave you a month. We need to wait. I want us to be sure this is what we want."

Hermione reluctantly withdrew and stepped back. Breathing heavily, she nodded. "You're right. I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to tease."

"S'okay. I wasn't complaining." He looked down at his still rampant erection with a rueful grin. "And neither was he, but do you think you can put your top back on, or I'll never get my jeans zipped up."

Smiling, she covered herself and left him to dress. The tell-tale sound of the bathroom door closing again brought another flush to her cheeks as Hermione realised exactly how Harry was dealing with his problem.

Dinner was surprisingly convivial, despite the hormones simmering in the air. Both managed to reign in their errant libidos long enough to converse about the day's work.

"What did Snape do today?" Harry asked as he settled onto the couch.

"Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you. He actually sat down without being asked and ordered a coffee. I even shared my muffin with him." Hermione grinned as she sat beside Harry. "And you'll never guess what happened next."

"You made a date for dinner? I might have known you were only toying with me upstairs. Your affections lie elsewhere, I can tell."

Hermione whacked him on the arm. "Don't be such a prat! I called him sir, and he told me to just use Snape, so I ended up calling him Severus. And he didn't hex me! He still didn't say much though, simply drank his coffee and left."

"That's a major advance, you know, Hermione. Remember how most of the other teachers at Hogwarts called him Professor Snape and not Severus. Perhaps he does fancy you." Harry studied her face. "You definitely fancy him, though. I can see it in the way your eyes shine when you talk about him. I was only joking about him being competition, you know."

"I know, Harry. But it's your fault I can see him in that way. If you hadn't mentioned it..." She sighed and took his hands. "About upstairs. Do you think it means anything, or are we both simply frustrated? I mean... when did you last... you know...?"

"Have sex?" Harry helped her out.

"Yes. And not what you just did upstairs."

His reddened cheeks belied any words of denial. "Oh. You noticed. I sort of hoped you wouldn't."

Hermione giggled. "I left you with an erection that almost looked painful, and you immediately scuttled into the bathroom and spent several minutes in there. What was I supposed to think?"

"You have a good point. Okay, I admit it; Harry Potter is a right tosser. What's new? Any of the Weasleys could have told you that."

Hermione reined in her imagination before continuing. "So, Harry. You didn't answer my question. How long ago was it?"

"You really want to know? Two years."

"I thought you must have... Not that blonde you brought home last year? Or the brunette?"

"No. No-one since Ginny. I think she ruined my confidence for a while. And you?"

"Same. Only Ron, and he wasn't very good."

"Ouch. Poor you. So you're desperate, huh?"

"No more desperate than you, Potter. Maybe I'll have to seduce Severus Snape and have you for afters?"

"Oh, don't make promises you can't keep, Granger."

"I really think you do fancy Snape as well, Harry."

"Maybe you're the one who has competition, Hermione." Harry's laughter lingered in the room long after he had gone upstairs to bed.

Over the next week, Hermione found concentrating on work was the only solution to the endless dilemma scrambling her brain. The two dark-haired wizards in her life rarely left her thoughts. There had been no further intimate episodes with Harry, as he gallantly tried to give her space to make up her mind. Their friendship remained steadfast however, and plenty of teasing about the other's state of frustration was to be heard over dinner.

Snape had become a regular customer at the café, sharing a muffin and coffee with Hermione during the week. He seldom attempted conversation, seemingly content to spend a few minutes in her company each morning. Occasionally, she would ask about his latest Potions research, to be rewarded with a succinct summary of the inadequacies of St Mungo's, but one Friday Snape changed the rules.

"Tell me, Hermione, now you've succeeded in enticing me here to your table, what do you want to know?" He carefully placed his cup down as he awaited her reply.

"Pardon?"

"While I appreciate your forbearance, I've noticed you have appeared to be about to ask a question on several occasions over the last week. I repeat, what do you want to know?"

"Nothing." Her attempt at denying her curiosity failed dismally in the face of his sceptical eyebrow. "Anything... everything. Dammit, stop smirking at me. Of course I'm curious. You spent years protecting us, even though you didn't like us; you saved our lives on many occasions and even managed to teach us at the same time. You nearly died, but survived, then you disappeared for three years. You, Severus Snape, are..."

"Enough. Don't idealise me, young lady. I simply did what had to be done, and what I had Vowed to do. I'm no hero."

His bitter tone sliced into Hermione's heart. "No. You're just a man. Human, like everyone else." She reached over and placed her hand on his, feeling the faint tremble as he struggled for control.

"Human," he murmured. "I remember hearing that once when I was in St Mungo's. There was someone who used to come..." He shook his head as if to dispel the memories. "I must have been hallucinating while I was unconscious. No-one would have been there." Snape looked up to meet warm, brown eyes and flushed cheeks.

Hermione smiled as his startled expression revealed his sudden understanding.

"It was you. You were there! You stroked my face and talked to me and held my hand." He bowed his head and gazed at his empty cup.

"No. Harry held your hand, Severus. He was there, too."

"And Weasley, I suppose."

"No. Ronald wouldn't come." Her own bitterness pervaded her words.

"Why did you and Potter..."

"Visit you? We hated the thought of you lying there alone after all you had done."

"No. Your Gryffindor sense of honour would have inevitably led you to my bedside; I have no doubt of that. But you touched me. Talked to me. You touched my bloody nose!" He looked up again as he remembered and scowled. "Why the hell were you stroking my nose, woman?"

"I'd read some Muggle books about caring for a patient in a coma. They all stressed how important touching and talking to the patient was. Even though you were unconscious, there was a chance you could still hear and feel what we did. It seemed the right thing to do. I'm sorry if it disturbed you."

His bark of laughter startled her. "Typical know-it-all. Using Muggle techniques in a wizarding hospital. No wonder the Healers never said anything about your visits. Don't apologise. I had not remembered you being there, just a feeling of comfort. I never knew whether it was real or not. But my nose?"

Hermione shrugged. "It was the most obvious part to stroke, and besides, I liked it. When you were lying there so pale and silent it was the one thing that was still you. I think stroking it comforted me as much as it did you." She smiled at his incredulous expression.

"Just my luck. The only visitors I get while I'm unconscious, and one has a nose obsession. And Potter held my hand. I'm not sure whether I really want to know why."

"Simple. I told him to. It was hold your hand or stroke your face. Between you and me, I think once he realised no-one else would know, he quite enjoyed it. But he'd never admit it." She grinned at Severus's grimace of distaste and glanced down at their still-joined hands. "I suppose I'll have to make do with your hand now instead of your nose."

"Indeed." Severus's long-suffering sigh was belied by the lack of any attempt to remove his hand from hers. "I have one further question, however, if I may?"

"Of course. But remember, I haven't had my turn at asking you questions yet."

"I'm sure you won't allow me to escape that fate. I was curious as to why you stopped visiting once I had woken. Surely Potter is not more of the Gryffindor than you, Hermione?"

Hermione blushed. "Unfortunately, I have to admit he was. When we arrived that day and I heard you berating the Healer, I couldn't face you and left Harry to go in alone. I'm so sorry." It was her turn to stare at her cup.

Severus turned his hand under hers and squeezed. "Do you know why I was so angry when I woke, Hermione? No-one would tell me who the angel was who had cared for me while I was unconscious. They implied I had been imagining your touch and your voice. By the time Potter walked through the door, I had begun believing it myself. He never mentioned your visits, just sat and mumbled a few words, then left."

The young witch felt moisture gather in her eyes as she admitted, "That was my fault. I asked them not to mention our visits. I was afraid you'd be embarrassed to know we'd seen you like that, and I wanted to spare you that at least. It was enough to know you were awake and recovering. Then soon after that you disappeared."

"It appears I owe you both a debt of gratitude. If there is anything..."

Hermione lifted her finger to his lips. "Hush. You owe us nothing. But we'd be honoured if you would join us for dinner one evening. I'm sure Harry would like to meet you again and have a chance to speak coherently. He does do that from time to time, you know."

"I'll consider your invitation, Hermione. For now, I must be on my way." He stood, and for the first time a genuine smile lit his face. Taking her hand and brushing surprisingly warm lips across it, he nodded and walked away, leaving the young woman staring at her own hand in wonder.

"He's a right gentleman, that one, luv. I'd 'ang onto him if I were you," advised the plump waitress who was clearing the next table.

"Oh, I shall," Hermione murmured, half to herself.

A/N: Written as a gift for southern_witch_69 in the 2010 SSHG Exchange on LiveJournal.

Many thanks to my beta, karelia.