Chapter Sixteen: Kisses

Disclaimer: Still not mine. Still getting grubby...

Chapter Sixteen: Kisses

 

 

"It was only a kiss!"

 

"What do you mean 'It was only a kiss'?  It was a kiss, for Merlin's sake!  It looked pretty damned serious to me.  And what was all that about Hogsmeade?  Are you two really together?  I thought... I thought..."

 

"No.  We're not.  It's just for appearances, all right.  Keep your hair on; anyone would think you were jealous."

 

"Of course I'm bloody jealous!  Oh, fuck...  I didn't mean to say that.  Forget it."  Face flaming, Neville rushed down the corridor, stumbling a little on the hem of his robes as he rounded the corner.

 

"Jealous?  Of whom?"  Draco Malfoy frowned as he watched his Potions partner flee.  "Of whom, Neville?"

 

***

 

Hermione kept her hand on her wand as she turned towards the shadows.

 

"Now, Hermione Granger!"  The voice was definitely familiar, yet oddly sinister.

 

"Luna?"  A muffled giggle was the only reply.  Peering into the dark, Hermione withdrew her wand.  "Lumos! What on earth are you up to?  And what's with the spooky hissing?  You really had me going there for a moment."

 

Luna Lovegood grinned and twirled the butterbeer corks on her necklace.  "I was practising."

 

"Practising what?  You're not thinking of starting a secret society and taking over the world, are you, Luna?  Because if you are, I don't want to know.  My life is quite complicated enough as it is."  Hermione dumped her bag on the floor and leaned against the cool, stone wall.

 

"No, nothing that exciting.  I was trying out my scary voice.  Dad said we're going to Portugal to hunt Wibbing Plimples at Christmas."

 

"Wibbling Pimples?  Sounds revolting.  I'd look in the fourth-year dorms; there's bound to be plenty there."  Hermione managed to keep a perfectly straight face as her friend frowned and shook her head.

 

"No, Hermione, Wibbing Plimples.  Apparently, if you show any fear or anxiety, they vanish.  I thought if I sounded scary, I might be more likely to catch one."

 

Hermione nodded, feeling guilty about her flippant comment in the face of Luna's earnest explanation.  "I see.  Well, you certainly had me worried, so I think you're on the right track.  What did you want me for anyway?"

 

"No, silly, you wanted me.  Mandy told me you were looking for me earlier."

 

"Oh, of course.  I just wondered whether you'd help me with something on Saturday..."

 

***

Snape chewed slowly, smothering his anxiety in a thick layer of disdain.

 

"Hungry today, Severus?  Been using up too much energy at night, then?"  

 

Hooch's wink made him feel slightly queasy, nothing to do, of course, with the six sausages and three helpings of eggs he had eaten while lingering at the breakfast table.  "Exercise?"

What does she know?  Have those portraits been gossiping after all?  And where's that bloody owl?

 

"All those patrols you insist on doing.  Can't be healthy to be traipsing the corridors at night like you do.  I'm sure the students won't destroy the school if you had a night off." 

 

Snape's internal alert level dropped a few notches as he sneered at the Flying instructor.  "Some of us actually care about the welfare of the students and the school, Rolanda."  With a curt nod, he pushed his chair back and stood, abandoning hope of a letter from Grace.  As gracefully as he could, considering his rather overfull stomach, he stalked from the Great Hall. 

 

Two days and no reply.  She's never taken that long since I discovered she was a witch.

 

I'm a fool.  Waiting around for a bloody letter from a woman who won't even reveal her name.  For all I know, she's tired of the game she is playing and has moved on to taunt someone new.

 

Hermione watched the slump of his shoulders as he left the room, a wrinkle worrying her brow, the letter carefully hidden in her bag burning a hole in her conscience.  Damn!  I'll have to send it this morning and put him out of his misery.  So much for increasing his anticipation, the daft bugger has turned all negative on me.

 

"Hey, 'Mione, are you coming?" Ron called. 

 

"No.  I believe she's waiting for her boyfriend."  The scowl on Neville's face looked as out of place as a house-elf at Buckingham Palace.

 

Ginny Weasley's eyes narrowed as she scented victory.  Despite all her promises of discretion, Hermione had refused to reveal the name of her lover.  "And who would that be, Neville?"

 

Neville nodded towards the handsome blond walking over to the Gryffindor table. 

 

"Malfoy?  He's Hermione's boyfriend?  I don't believe it."

 

"See for yourself."  Neville startled as another blonde appeared beside him.  "Oh, hi, Luna.  What's up?"

 

Luna's dreamy expression faded as she took his arm.  "I thought you could take me to Hogsmeade today, Neville.  We haven't had a good chat for ages."

 

Neville's eyes widened to match Luna's as she steered him away from his despair.  "But..."

 

"It'll be fine, Neville.  Just wait and see.  Now, where do you want to go first?  I heard Honeydukes has made a special batch of sugar quills encrusted with wrackspurt saliva.  Gives you a lovely buzz while you eat them."

 

Puzzled at the odd pairings she had witnessed, Ginny resolved to watch closely for developments.  Something was up, and Molly's daughter was determined to discover what it was.

 

***

 

"You don't have to hang around me all day, Granger, you know.  I can take care of myself."

 

"Stop your grumbling, Draco.  You're supposed to be finding a quiet spot to ravish me senseless.  At least look as if you're enjoying my company."  Hermione checked her watch.  Just bear with me another twenty minutes, Draco, and you'll find it was all worth while.  Oh, fuck, there's that Parkinson bitch.  Time to activate Subplan A.

 

"Granger... why are you looking at me like that?  You're not going to...mmph...

 

"Dammit, I wish you'd warn me before you did that!"  Draco pulled away from Hermione's embrace just in time to spot the departing backs of his Slytherin housemates.  "Oh... thanks."

 

"You're welcome."

 

"Isn't there any other way to distract them?"  Even his whine was cute.

 

"Not convincingly.  Unless you wanted them to catch me with my hand on your..."

 

Draco winced.  "No, no need for that.  Kissing is fine.  Just don't look you're enjoying yourself quite so much, will you?"

 

Hermione smirked.  "But, Draco, honey, you know how my blood is on fire for you... how you melt my defences and send my body into raptures with your very presence."

 

"I think she's been sniffing too much of your cologne, Malfoy.  It's addled her brains."  Blaise chuckled as he walked past.  "I'd make yourselves scarce; Millie's coming back this way.  I think she's trying to catch you two out, but she never was particularly subtle."

 

"Where are you off to?" Draco asked.

 

"Just a little errand.  You can have Hermione all to yourself for a while."  He winked at the pair and disappeared around a corner.  A distinct pop heralded his departure from Hogsmeade.

 

"Come on, Draco."  Hermione tugged at his arm.

 

"Where are you taking me, woman?  I warn you, if you think for one moment I'm going into a private room with you just for appearances..."

 

Oh, for Merlin's sake.  He really does think he's irresistible.  Cute maybe, but not irresistible.  "Just trust me for once, dammit!  Hurry, or bloody Millicent Bulstrode will follow us."

 

"Isn't that the general idea?"

 

"Don't be any denser than you have to be, Malfoy, or I'm leaving you to the vultures. Now. Come. On!"

 

"All right.  All right."  He held his hands up in surrender.  "You're in charge."

 

"About time you saw things my way."  Hermione led him back down the path towards Hogwarts, checking her watch again as they walked.

 

"Make up your mind.  I thought we were supposed to be seen together to protect my reputation."

 

"We've been seen together by at least a dozen people, including Pansy and her cronies.  That's enough for now.  Ah, there they are."

 

Ahead, on the path to the Shrieking Shack, Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom were involved in a heated discussion.

 

"I see yours is as cantankerous as mine, Luna."  Hermione's cheerful greeting had both young men staring at her, looking for her second head.

 

"Not the most co-operative date I've had," Luna replied.  "Still, at least he's here."

 

"What's going on?"  Neville looked from witch to witch, then blushed as he met Draco's equally confused eyes.

 

"You two are what's going on.  You need time to talk away from the gossips at the school.  We've given you both alibis; now we're going to make ourselves scarce for a couple of hours or so.  What you two do with that time is completely up to you."  Hermione smiled at the two wizards and linked arms with Luna.  "Shall we go for a stroll around the lake?  No-one will notice us there."

 

"Yes, let's.  Maybe we can spot some Nargles in the mistletoe at the edge of the forest."

 

Waving goodbye to Draco and Neville, the two young women headed for a peaceful, if a little chilly, walk around the lake.

 

***

 

Blaise returned from his unauthorised trip to London two hours later uncomfortable in body and spirit.  While the idea of a trip to the gallery where Snape's paintings were showing had been exciting and a little wicked, the reality of the exhibition had played havoc with his heart. 

 

He stood before the doors to the exhibition, the words, Woman: Unveiled, already drawing a response from his groin.  Guilt warred with desire, and the baser emotion won as he entered the gallery.  The blue eyes and dark hair of the woman in the paintings was both a relief and a torment as he slowly circled the room, drinking in images of her breasts and naked skin until he reached the final two paintings. 

 

"Oh, Merlin, what have I done?" he whispered as he felt the passion radiate from the canvas, his intrusion into the intimacy between artist and model all the more profane for their ignorance of his presence.  "It's true.  They love each other."

 

Shoulders slumped, weary of his own foolishness, Blaise Zabini finally snuffed out the small spark of hope he had clung to. 

 

Each step heavy with despondency, Blaise made his way back to Hogwarts.  He didn't see the two girls until the voice he least wanted to hear spoke.

 

"Hey, Blaise.  Wait for us!"  Hermione's breath was visible in little puffs as she hurried to catch up.

 

He closed his eyes and hoped his blush would be assumed due to the cold air and exertion.  "Hi.  What have you done with Draco?"

 

"Left him with Neville at the Shrieking Shack."  Hermione waved vaguely back in the direction they had come.  "We're staying out of sight for a while.  

"By the way, this is Luna Lovegood.  Luna, Blaise Zabini, my Potions partner and friend.  I don't know whether you know each other."

 

Blaise summoned the remnants of his self-esteem and bowed over Luna's hand with a smile.  "How have I not been introduced to such a fair lady before?"

 

"Oh, it's probably just because my hair colour is very rare.  Only the Lovegoods and Malfoys seem to produce such blonde hair, although theirs tends more to silvery.  Do you like it?"  Luna smiled at the handsome Slytherin and tilted her head as she awaited a reply.

 

Her matter-of-fact reply demanded only one response.  "It is exquisite."

 

"Thanks."  Luna turned to Hermione.  "Do you think we've given the boys long enough yet?  I really have to go and work on my scary voice some more."

 

"Go ahead.  They should be fine now.  I think we can assume they'll use their discretion on their return to school.  Thanks for your help."

 

"No problem.  Nice to meet you, Blaise.  I'll see you around."

 

He nodded.  "No doubt.  Goodbye, Luna."  He watched her skipping up the path to Hogwarts and smiled.

 

"She's a lovely person, Blaise." 

 

"I'm sure she is, Hermione." 

 

"Would you consider...?"  She met his eyes and flinched at the pain she saw within.

 

"Not yet, Hermione.  I need some time." He shrugged and looked away.

 

"I'm sorry.  I didn't mean..."

 

"It's okay.  It's really not your problem."  Stiffening his shoulders, he continued.  "Talking about problems, have you told Snape yet?"  Her gasp warned him a split second before a voice snarled behind him.

 

"Told me what, Mr Zabini?"  Snape's eyes however, pinned Hermione to the spot.

 

"Er... nothing... just a Potions question... It'll keep..."  Without stopping to see if her answer had been sufficient, Hermione fled.

 

Blaise watched the woman of both their desires leave and turned to Snape, who stared after her with a frown.

 

"Mr Zabini, if you know anything I should know, now is the time to share." 

 

"I could never betray a lady's confidence, sir.  However, I suggest it might be in your best interest to pay a little more attention to Miss Granger."

 

Snape remained silent, staring after the young witch long after Blaise had left.

***

"Oh, look who it is, girls.  Mr Macho and his studly friend.  They appear to have lost their girlfriends somewhere.  Dumped Granger for Longbottom, have you, Malfoy?  Knew a common tart like that wouldn't hold your interest long."  Pansy stood with her hands on her hips, sneering with her two friends. "Perhaps it's time you tried a real woman?"

"Now, look here..."  Neville bristled.

"Allow me, Neville."  Draco stepped forward, lifting his nose even higher than Pansy's.  "For your information, Hermione Granger has more brains in her little finger, more sensitivity in her left toenail, and more class in the hair on her head than you three have combined.  And furthermore, I doubt any of you have an inkling of how a real woman would behave, given you act like the bunch of catty schoolgirls you are." He turned and offered an elbow to an astounded Neville.  "Come along, Neville.  We have better things to do than waste valuable time here."

"Go on, then.  Find some place to snog, you poofs!"

A glint appeared in Draco's eye as he remembered the lesson learned from a very Gryffindor witch.  Spinning Neville into his arms, he placed one hand on each of the other wizard's shoulders and closed the distance between their lips.  Neville's grunt of surprise opened his mouth a little, much to Draco's advantage as he plundered the sweetness of another young man's lips.  After a few seconds, the Gryffindor in Neville took charge, and his tongue replied, twisting and dancing with Draco's as they ground their hips against each other despite their horrified witnesses.

"Ewwww!" Pansy stared, feet rooted to the spot until Millicent's greater bulk managed to drag her away from the scene.

Draco prolonged the kiss long after the girls had left, finally pulling away, reluctant and panting, to stare at a grinning Neville.  He smirked and nodded towards the direction their tormentors had taken.  "Think that did the trick?"

"I don't know.  We'd better carry on in case they come back," Neville replied as he took a handful of Draco's robes and pushed him up against the wall of the corridor they had been accosted in.

"Mmm. A sound plan.  Where were we?" Draco reached down between their bodies.  "There?"

Bloody hell.  Even Longbottom is getting more than I am.  Ten points to Slytherin for making a Gryffindor squeal, Malfoy. Ignoring the oblivious couple, Snape continued to his quarters, thoughts only on the letter he had received from a disgruntled owl while chaperoning at Hogsmeade. Fear and anticipation had stayed his hand from opening it until he reached the privacy of his own rooms.

Finally, the door closed on the bustle and clamour of students returning from a day of imbibing sugary treats and butterbeer. Snape stilled and listened for a few moments to the glorious sound of silence, then scowled at the faint tremor of his fingers as he slit the seal on the envelope.

Dearest Severus,

My fault entirely.

And yet, as I sit here at my desk writing to you, I wonder anew at this connection, this relationship we share. Is it purely sexual? Did the fertile soil of bare skin and intimate exposure yield a crop of passion and desire alone?

I hope not.

Passion without love is a rose with no scent. All show and colour, but no depth.

I like to think our many and varied discourses on subjects dear to our hearts bore the sweet fruit of love and affection and friendship to balance the heat which ignites when we touch.

While I admit I dream of your naked skin beside me, under me, inside me... inside me, I also imagine sitting entwined together on a couch reading, sharing ideas, debating philosophy, and dare I say, even politics and religion. The simple joy of sharing a meal.

I miss that.

I miss you.

Love,

G

***

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" She looked up to find Blaise standing beside her chair, anxiety clouding his usually serene brow.

"May I have a word?"

"Of course." Pushing a pile of books and parchment to one side, Hermione pulled out the seat beside her.

"No. Somewhere else." Blaise looked around the library, quiet on a post-Hogsmeade Sunday morning.

"All right. Let's go for a walk outside. It's not so cold today."

"Actually, I was thinking of our usual spot in the old Charms classroom, but outside will work."

"Blaise, you're worrying me. What's wrong?" Hermione left her belongings spread over the table and followed him from the room.

"Nothing... and everything." He shook his head and offered no further explanation until they were well away from prying ears. Leading her to a quiet courtyard, Blaise indicated a stone bench and sat down.

"Well?" Hermione sat beside him, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "What is it?"

"Promise you won't hate me?" All of Blaise's self-confidence had evaporated.

"Of course I won't hate you. I'm your friend. Please, tell me."

He bowed his head and flashed a thin smile. "I know I shouldn't have done it, but I couldn't resist. The opportunity was too... there."

Hermione patted his hand. "You've lost me, Blaise. What opportunity?"

"I Apparated to London yesterday and went to the gallery."

"The gall..."

"That's where you both were at the weekend. Where was the exhibition?"

"London.  At a gallery in Bankside."

"You went to Snape's exhibition?" She paled. "You saw the paintings?"

He nodded.

"All of them? Even..."

"Every single one." His cheeks were scarlet, but he pressed on. "They were magnificent. You were... are magnificent." He reached up with his free hand and brushed her cheek. "Gods, you're beautiful."

"Blaise... I... Severus..."

He pressed a finger to her lips. "Hush. I know. I could see it in the paintings. The expression on your face, the loving detail with which he formed each brush stroke. Dammit, Hermione, I could bloody well feel the love between you. It was only paint and canvas, but I could feel it."

Moisture gathered in the corner of her eye, drawn by the intensity of emotion in the dark-skinned wizard's face. She watched him swallow and sigh.

"Don't cry; you're too beautiful to cry over my bruised feelings. I dug this hole, and I'll have to Transfigure myself some earth to fill it."

Despite herself, Hermione giggled. "Why do you always have to make light of everything?"

He curved his lips, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "I have to laugh or I'd cry, and tears don't suit my elegant Zabini persona."

"Oh, Blaise, you're one in a million. Some witch is going to be very lucky to have you one day."

"That's what my mother always says. Come on, let's get inside before we freeze."

***

The owl alighting on Hermione Granger's plate looked disturbingly familiar to Snape as he poured his third coffee for the morning. Shaking the ridiculous notion from his brain – most owls looked the same, after all – he continued his breakfast without allowing any further contemplation of the Gryffindor know-it-all to impinge on his cheerful mood.

Pocketing the letter with a minimum of fuss, Hermione ignored Ginny's eager glances. It was a simple matter of mentioning the Quidditch Cup standings, and she was free to leave unnoticed.

Grace,

I'm writing this while reclining on my lonely bed, once again naked and aching for you. How did you bring me to this? I used to have such control over my baser urges until you appeared in my studio and destroyed all my adolescent notions of love and desire and passion.

I used to see love as an angry emotion: possessive, jealous, bitter... I had no time for it, having been struck down by its duplicity once before.

It was you, Grace, who taught me about love. The simple act of brewing a cup of tea made to please the palate of the one you care about most. And, yes, a shared meal, conversation, even arguments, knowing a disagreement in philosophy does not alter one's emotions.

Waking up to find you still beside me last weekend, I discovered a joy so sublime I cannot describe it in mere ink and parchment.

Never doubt my desire for your touch – your body – is only a physical metaphor for the need my mind, heart, and soul has for you.

Make it soon,

I beg you,

S.

***

Snape sat at his desk once the class had commenced brewing and no obvious mishaps were in the making. Nodding at Draco Malfoy, who had his partner well in hand, in more ways than one, he cast his gaze over the rest of the students. Potter and Weasley appeared to be working doggedly over their cauldrons. Three months of no assistance from Miss Granger was beginning to pay off.

Granger herself appeared inordinately content. Not so young Zabini beside her, whose frequent pained glances left him in danger of losing his usual position as the unchallenged sophisticate of Slytherin.

Snape found his thoughts turning back, inevitably, to Grace. He imagined her expression upon receiving the letter he had penned the evening before and, without conscious thought, began sketching her face in red ink on the unfortunate student's essay before him.

Damn! What was I thinking? Just as he reached for his wand to siphon off the extra ink, Snape paused. It's her face. What if I...?

With swift and sure strokes, Snape added Grace's hair to the sketch. But instead of the long, straight, dark locks he was accustomed to drawing, his quill created a mass of curls reaching below her shoulders. A whispered spell, and her eyes were changed to an indeterminate hazel and the hair to brown.

Snape stared at the sketch, comprehension dawning slowly but undeniably. He looked up to find two rich, brown eyes staring at him from beneath a mass of bushy curls.

Fuck!

***

A/N: This was written for shalimar1981 for the TPP Every Flavour Auction. I have Karelia for a beta. Aren't I lucky?