Chapter Five: Close Encounters

Disclaimer: The characters belong to JKR. I'm just using them for a bit of practice.

Chapter Five: Close Encounters

Hermione paced back and forth across her bedroom as she dissected the day's revelations one by one. Never one to be disorganised, she finally sat at her desk and took out paper and pen to make notes.

FACTS

7. Sidney is talented, witty, has a sharp tongue and knows how to use it, but also has a wicked sense of humour. He's sexy.

Hermione stopped writing. There it was in black and white, non-erasable (to a Muggle) ink. It's one thing to think it, but now I've written it down it must be true. I really think he's sexy. He's not remotely good-looking, even as Sidney, with that lank hair and oversized nose. Not to mention the teeth. What's wrong with me?

Giving up the analysis of her appalling taste, Hermione added a new sub-heading.

PROBABILITIES

3. His classes will be hell. (Note: What is he teaching this year?)

If we go ahead with the last painting, how will I ever look him in the eye again, knowing he's seen every part of me? Up close and personal. How do I stop blushing in class? I can just see it. "Miss Granger, ten points from Gryffindor for inappropriate facial colouring in class."

She sighed and wrote her final list.

QUESTIONS

3. Should I write to him after school starts?

She dropped her head onto her arms and groaned. After several minutes of slow-breathing exercises and relaxation techniques, Hermione took up her pen once more.

4. Why do I want to?

Carefully folding the paper into quarters, she tucked it into her pocket and made her way downstairs to find out what was for dinner.

***

"Hermione! There's a phone call for you!" Jean Granger called up the stairs the next morning.

"What? At this hour?" Hermione dragged herself out of bed, grabbed her dressing gown, and grumbled down the stairs. Picking up the phone, she said, "Yes?" in her less-than-accommodating voice.

"Not a morning person then?" asked Snape.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't expect it to be you on the phone."

"No matter. Something has come up that needs my urgent attention. I won't be able to paint this morning. Consider it a paid half day off. That is, if you were planning on coming at all."

She could not miss the hint of uncertainty in his question, even over the telephone. "Of course I was planning on turning up today. And you don't need to pay me. As it happens, I have some errands to run as well. I have no other plans this evening, so I could stay later if necessary. When do you want me?" Oops. Bad choice of words. She definitely heard a sharp intake of breath at the other end of the line. Very bad choice.

"Two will be fine. I'll see you then." He hung up without any further ado.

Hermione wandered into the kitchen to check the time. Bloody six o'clock! What was he thinking? Although, if he recognised the area code on my phone number, he would assume I'd have to be up this early to get to his place on time. Still, an hour or so more sleep wouldn't go amiss.

Blowing a kiss at her mother as she headed back up to her bed, Hermione decided she would use her unexpected free time for a trip to Diagon Alley for school supplies. Thanks to Snape's generous wages and prompt payment in cash every Friday afternoon, she had more than enough saved for the necessary supplies.

Three hours later, Hermione passed through the Leaky Cauldron with an efficient schedule organised to cover exchanging her money at Gringott's and visits to Flourish and Blott's for the required textbooks and Madam Malkin's for new school robes. Much as she disliked spending hard-earned Galleons on robes only needed for one year, her sixth year set was decidedly tatty and a little tight in certain places. Transfiguration would never last the entire school year, so new robes it would have to be. Her last stop would be Slug and Jiggers for the necessary ingredients to stock up her depleted Potions kit.

After a slight altercation with the security goblins at the bank, who were determined not to let one of her ilk back through their hallowed doors, Hermione jostled her way through the crowd to the bookshop, not noticing the man clad entirely in black who had entered the shop just before her arrival.

***

Snape swore as the incompetent assistant led him towards the back of the shop. The urgent Floo from the Headmistress that morning to advise him of the flooding in the dungeons from Peeves's latest chicanery had added to the headache pounding since the early hours. Unrequited desire thrummed through his body, leaving him tense, irritable, and not the least enthralled with a last minute dash to Diagon Alley to replace essential texts and ingredients for the first week's classes.

A flash of bright blue sleeve caught his eye as he collected the needed items from the shelves. Turning, he spotted a delicate, pale hand reaching for a book in the next aisle. Something about the hand seemed very familiar: the smooth skin, the angle of the thumb, the shape of the nails, but before he could consider it any longer the stammering young wizard from the shop interrupted. By the time he had finished explaining that, no, he did not want the latest Gilderoy Lockhart, Clashing With Centaurs, the hand and its owner had disappeared.

Paying for his purchases, Snape strode along the alley, managing to avoid the stares of the gormless and inadequate, and those of his students as well, by keeping his head down and his eyes straight ahead. An unfortunate half an hour taking tea with Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, "But we insist, Severus, dear," delayed his plans, but he reached his final stop with plenty of time to spare.

The apothecary was almost deserted, most customers having departed for food establishments. While he was awaiting his order, Snape perused the shelves for any new or rare ingredients. Once again, a glimpse of blue attracted his attention, and there was that hand again. Rounding the corner of the shelves, Snape stopped short as the bushy, brown hair and book-laden bag revealed the owner of the appendage. Hermione Granger. No wonder the hand was familiar; he'd seen it waving in his face for six endless years. There she was, Potter's know-it-all handmaiden, guaranteed to set his teeth on edge as soon as she opened her mouth. Fucking brilliant. Just what I need to really complete my morning.

But before he had so much as a chance to snarl, the girl nodded acknowledgement and disappeared without uttering a word. Odd. Sneering at the doxy wings instead, Snape collected his purchases and made his way home without any further contemplation of Granger or her hands.

***

Bugger, bugger, bollocks... shite! Why didn't it occur to me his urgent task might involve appearing in Diagon Alley? Lucky I escaped without speaking, or he'd have put two and two together. Luckier I'm not wearing anything he's seen before today. Reminds me. Better change before I Apparate to the studio. Mind you, seeing him there answered one question. By the look of the glare on his face, he's not planning to be any more pleasant to us this year than he has ever been. Still, I'll have Sidney to imagine whenever he's stalking around the classroom like an overgrown crow. I know his little secret; he's actually a decent human being under all those scowls, with emotions, desires, and a conscience. Wouldn't mind finding out what else is under those robes, but I suppose that is a little inappropriate.

Hermione stashed her purchases in her school trunk, showered, and quickly changed into a different set of clothes. Grabbing a sandwich on the way past the kitchen, she applied her usual Glamour and left a note for her parents not to expect her home for dinner.

Snape was finishing his own lunch when she arrived at the studio quarter of an hour early. Flicking the switch on the kettle, she lifted a mug in question, receiving a brief smile and a nod in return.

"Everything okay?" she asked, once she had eaten half her sandwich.

He looked up. "Nothing to be concerned about. I just had a small problem with supplies. It's all sorted out now."

"Did you finish yesterday's painting?"

"Almost. A few finishing touches and it will be done." He waved to a covered easel in the corner.

Lifting the cloth, Hermione studied the canvas. "That's amazing. You've really captured the difference between innocence and desire, and yet each nuance is so subtle. This is the best so far. All you need now is the final painting." She watched his face, noting the almost surgical precision in the way he had schooled his features. Come on, Snape, don't go all spy on me now. I want to know what you're thinking. "I'll just go and change, shall I?"

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but simply nodded.

While Hermione was in the bathroom, Snape moved the large bed he had shifted into the back room to the centre of the floor and smoothed the blue silk coverlet, carefully chosen to match his model's eyes. Once he was satisfied with the position of the bed and the placement of the pillows, he set up his easel and paints.

Hermione dropped her robe over a nearby chair and crawled onto the bed until she was lying in the centre. "What position would you like me in?" Not again. Terminal foot-in-mouth disease, Granger.

Snape winced. "I would prefer you to position yourself in whichever way you feel appropriate, Grace. I'd rather not..." He averted his eyes as she placed a pillow beneath her head and shoulders, raised her left knee and allowed it to fall sideways, and bent her right knee a little. The slight elevation of her body kept the curve of her breasts natural, with the rosy peaks crinkled in anticipation. Snape's breathing quickened as he finally looked up and beheld the centre of a woman's femininity: lush, moist, and waiting. With trembling hands, he chose a brush.

At least he left the smock off today. Maybe he should have used it. That must be really uncomfortable. Still, he seems to be concentrating on the canvas now he's over the initial shock. I should be grateful I can't see what he can. It's bad enough knowing how much he can see. If only I didn't feel so damned moist...

Hermione let her eyes drift over her professor's intent expression. Despite his obvious arousal, he seemed to have immersed himself in the process of transferring what he saw onto the canvas before him. Lost in contemplation of his agile hands at work, she startled when he spoke.

"You're not making this easy, Grace."

With a shake of her head, Hermione focussed on his face. Dilated pupils and flushed cheeks met her perusal. "Pardon?"

"You've changed your position. I doubt you really want me to paint you quite so..." He groaned and turned away.

She glanced down. As she had allowed her wayward imagination to come up with a variety of more interesting activities for his hands, her knees had drifted apart, revealing far more of her inner secrets than the merest hint of intimate flesh she had anticipated. Matching his face flame for flame she drew her knees back into the original position. "Sorry, my mind drifted off."

Snape took a few deep breaths while he adjusted his trousers, then resumed painting. "Don't apologise. It is my self-control that is lacking."

You wouldn't say that if you knew what I had been thinking, Professor. Just as well you think I'm a Muggle. A little Legilimency there and I would have been in big trouble.

"No thanks to my lack of concentration. I promise I'll pay attention," she replied. "Just paint fast, will you, Sidney."

A few hours, several adjustments of his trousers, and a few self-directed imprecations later, he laid his brush down for the last time. "That's going to have to suffice. I can't... Excuse me." He strode stiffly out of the room without further explanation.

Hermione watched him walk through to the bathroom and close the door firmly behind him. A stifled groan followed by absolute silence left her puzzled for only a moment or two.

Oh, Merlin, a Silencing Charm. Is he doing what I think he's doing? Have I reduced Severus Snape to this?

Get a hold of yourself, Granger. Put your robe on and make a pot of tea. He'll need it after the afternoon you've put him through.

After only a few short minutes, Snape joined her in the kitchen.

"I'm sorry. I had to use the facilities," he said, failing to make eye contact.

Is that what they call it nowadays? "No problem. I'll just get dressed while you pour."

Allowing Snape to believe she knew nothing of his activities in the bathroom, she rapidly dressed and stowed her robe in her bag.

"So, do I get to see the painting so far?" she asked as she picked up her cup.

"No. I'd rather you didn't at this stage," he replied. Shifting from foot to foot, he hesitated. "Grace, I'm sorry, but I've made a decision."

Sitting down, she watched his face as he continued. As usual, he revealed nothing.

"This will be our last session. I have enough to finish the paintings for the exhibition, and I believe it would be in both our interests to terminate our agreement today. Of course, I will pay you for the rest of next week as originally agreed."

"I see." No I don't.

"No, you don't."

What is he, some kind of mind reader?

Fuck, he didn't just use Legilimency on me, did he? No, I'm sure I'd have noticed. And been thrown out by now... or hexed... or...

"Grace, please, look at me."

Not on your life. I'm not that foolish.

"I can't go on like this. You know the effect you have on me. It's unprofessional and inappropriate. It must stop."

"So, you'll just finish the paintings by memory alone?" She lifted her head and dared to meet his eyes.

"I doubt I will forget any details, Grace." It was his turn to avoid eye contact.

It's for the best. A few days apart might be enough to prevent him recognising me back at Hogwarts, although I'd better keep my head down in the classroom. "Will you let me know when the exhibition is on?"

"Of course. Leave me your address. I presume that was your mother I spoke to this morning? Does she even know what you have been doing all summer?"

"She does. And she approves." Hermione lifted her chin. "Our family has no hang-ups about nudity."

"I suppose she's the one who imbued you with your convictions on feminism."

Hermione nodded. "She'll pass on any messages or letters when I'm back at school."

He winced. "I didn't need to be reminded of that, Grace."

"Sorry. I'd better go. It's been an enlightening experience working with you, Sidney. I look forward to seeing the end result of all our work." She reached up and brushed his expressionless cheek with her lips. "Thank you."

Hermione did not see his face crumple as she left or hear the shatter of the teacup as it hit the wall.

***

A/N: This was written for the TPP Every Flavour Auction for shalimar1981. Thanks to karelia, who betaed this chapter.

Sorry about the delay in posting. It couldn't be helped.