Chapter 4

These characters belong to JKR

Master of Enchantment

Chapter 4

Hermione knew before she opened her eyes that she had a monumental hangover. One does not live a generally liquor-free life, then engage in a night of unfettered drinking, without paying a price.

Her first clue was the dull pounding of her head and the generally queasy feeling in her stomach, but she really knew she was in for a rough morning when the bed suddenly shifted beneath her body. If the bed was going to roil about like a ship at sea, she might as well move to the floor. Preferably, the floor by the toilet, just in case.

Bravely, she opened one eye, to see how her head was going to react to daylight. What light she could see was too bloody bright, but there was something blocking it. Squinting her one open eye, she managed to focus on the object between her eye and the morning light. When her vision finally conveyed its message to her brain, that Severus Snape was looming over her in her bed, she had been giving him a one-eyed stare for several seconds. Somewhat belatedly, her body jumped involuntarily, and her hands scrabbled for the bedclothes, trying vainly to pull them up to her chin. The sudden movement was a bad idea; she closed her eyes against the increased pain behind them and said, "Good morning, Professor Snape."

"I hate to disillusion you, Miss Granger, but morning was quite a while ago."

She could hear the sneer, even if she couldn't see it. "Would it be rude to ask why you're in my bed?" she asked, putting a hand to her aching brow.

"Technically, I am on your bed, not in your bed. I would be happy to make the adjustment, however, if it is necessary to your well-being."

Hermione clenched her teeth and dared to open both eyes in a painful squint. She was dimly surprised to see him wearing a short-sleeved dark green shirt, unbuttoned over his bare chest, and dark green swimming trunks, with a tiny pattern of silver snakes on the fabric. As her eyes traveled up to his face, she found that he was staring at the thin straps and low neckline of her white silk chemise.

"Do you MIND?" she demanded, trying again to tug the sheet higher on her body, only to find her attempts foiled by his body weight on the bedclothes.

"Come, Miss Granger, I'm sure you learned at Hogwarts that turnabout is fair play," he drawled, letting his eyes travel insolently from her breasts to her face. "Or were you not staring at my chest a moment ago?"

Her answer to that comment was an exclamation of frustration and another fruitless tug at the sheet. In defeat, she scooted farther down the bed, covering herself more completely, and then put her hands to her aching head.

"What do you call that garment?" he inquired idly.

"Entirely insufficient, apparently," she muttered, rolling to her left and giving him her back. "Go away, I feel sick."

"Am I to understand that you have no use for this hangover antidote?"

Hermione rolled back to face him, quickly enough to make her head swim sickeningly for a moment. Going in and out of focus, she could see the stoppered bottle, held in his long fingers. Mutely, she held out her hand.

Snape held the bottle just out of her reach, an inquiring lift to his brow.

"Please." She really hated to whine.

"Please what?"

Smug bastard. "Please give me the damn bottle before I throw up on you."

The bottle fell onto the bed and rolled toward her. Hermione popped the stopper and upended the bottle over her mouth, going so far as to lick the residue from the stopper. Immediately, she began to feel better.

Having watched this performance with amusement, Snape took the bottle and stopper back from her and rose from the edge of the bed. "I feel quite certain now that you will not expire from your hangover, Miss Granger. If you decide to venture out-of-doors today, I have left a sunscreen potion on the terrace table for you."

Hermione pushed herself up on her elbows, amazed at how quickly the potion worked to relieve her symptoms. "It's Hermione, Severus," she said softly, looking up at him with a shy smile.

The corner of his mouth quirked, like an involuntary twitch. "Get out of bed, girl, it's time for lunch," he said, going out the French doors, down the steps, and heading toward the water.

Hermione swung her legs over the side of the bed. Tonks' bed was empty and there was no sign of her. The terry cloth robes they had commandeered from the pool changing rooms lay in a wadded heap on the dresser. With abrupt clarity, the events – and discussion – of the night before came back to her now-sober mind.

With narrowed eyes, she stared out the open French doors at the beach, now crowded with blankets peopled by Muggle holiday-makers. It was a good thing Snape had left the room before she remembered just how furious she was with him.

Seething with anger, Hermione shut the French doors and snapped the drapes closed with a jerk of her wrist. Then she headed for the shower. Snape was going to hear everything she thought about his insufferable behavior over the last three years. She didn't care if they never spoke to one another again afterwards, as long as she was able to tell him exactly what she thought about him first.

The pelting spray of the shower washed the angry tears from her cheeks, as it cleansed her body of the chlorine from the swimming pool. She wished she could as easily rinse him out from under her skin and down the drain.

Severus settled himself on the beach chair, under the umbrella Lupin had set up for their use. The darkened spectacles Tonks had provided softened the glare of light on the water significantly, and he was able to sit quietly and ignore the Muggle children paddling about in the shallows, while keeping an eye on the doors to Hermione's room.

Where had he ever gotten the impression that he was in control of this situation? What brain fever had led him to believe that he could begin to control Hermione Granger? He couldn't even control himself.

A less restrained man would pull at his hair in frustration, but Severus' manner gave no indication of his inner turmoil. He felt divided. His most familiar self was within him, the rigidly curbed, emotionally stunted, calculating Professor Snape, sneering and contemptuous – but it was as if the volume had been turned down on him. Gaining dominance now was the Holiday Severus, who lived outside the context of Professor Snape's world. Holiday Severus was permitted to express emotions other than disgust and disdain. Holiday Severus could relate to other people in a non-defensive manner, because Holiday Severus would never see those people again. Holiday Severus was allowed to attempt new leisure activities, because it didn't matter what strangers thought about him. Holiday Severus was a jolly chap, comparatively speaking, but there was a serious problem with the emergence of Holiday Severus on this get-away: Holiday Severus had never met anyone who knew Professor Snape, and Severus had always meant to keep it that way.

After all, What Happened on Holiday, Stayed on Holiday.

And why did Tonks have to bring up the Enchantment last night? If Albus Dumbledore wasn't behind that little conversational gambit, then Severus' espionage instincts were failing him.

Severus had known, upon reflection, what had happened with Hermione in the kitchen at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, on that night three years before – Dumbledore could use the epithet "Special Circumstances," but Severus knew it was the Enchantment. In the intervening time, Severus had tried to convince himself that it was something else, something less decisive, that he had felt with her when she'd embraced him. Each passing day since she returned to Hogwarts belied this self-evasion. Every time she drew too near, he could feel the kinetic energy produced by her proximity. In the continuity of his everyday life, he had been able to evade the truth, but outside the context of his familiar world, he could see it clearly: Here, in the person of Hermione Granger, was his incontrovertible destiny. He had believed he could live to the end of his life without allowing another person inside his protective shell. Now he was being proved wrong by a chit of a girl. Not just the girl – surely he could have walked away from the girl – but the magic was beyond question.

The worst part of it all was that now Hermione knew about it. She was sharp; more intelligent than any other person Severus had ever known, with the possible exception of himself. With the information she had been given last night, she would be able to nail his arse to the proverbial wall.

And he might even deserve it.

His resolve to repel Hermione, to hold her at arm's length, was crumbling. Holiday Severus could have a divine affair with the delectable Miss Granger over the next two days – but Miss Granger was going back to Hogwarts with Professor Snape, who did not relax his personal guard for anyone, not ever. Either Holiday Severus was going to have to take a damper, or Professor Snape was going to have to take a personal, emotional risk.

This was not a simple matter of choosing between a holiday fling and something more serious. He was lying to himself if he believed that he had a choice in the matter.

Severus became agitated and a pained grimace crossed his face as the truth crashed in on him. He could either submit to the imperative of the magic or try to walk away from it. The hell of the dilemma was that any decision he made would affect not only himself, but would also affect Hermione. If he chose to continue his life alone, then he was condemning her to the same fate. She had felt the power between them – it was undoubtedly the reason why she returned from Bulgaria without having married that Quidditch player, Krum. Neither he nor Hermione would ever be able to touch another lover without comparing the experience to the impact of the Enchantment.

Severus' rash decision to make this trip was looking more and more like his undoing. He had lived nearly twenty years of his life in a dance with the Dark Lord, but this was the hazard to which he would lose his life-as-he-knew-it.

It would fall to him, then, to make the best decision he could make for both of them, and may the gods have mercy on their souls.

Severus was distracted from his cogitations when Hermione stepped out onto the terrace. Her hair was twisted up on her head again; she was wearing a basic one piece swimsuit, in Gryffindor crimson, with a matching sarong tied around her waist and knotted at the hip. The sarong left one lovely leg bare. She had been more naked the night before in her underwear, but this was the sight he had come to the shore to see – sod the ocean. He watched as she picked up the sunscreen potion and swallowed it. He saw her turn, as Lupin came out of the other room onto the adjoining terrace. Hermione greeted Lupin, who was dressed as Severus was, in swim trunks and an open shirt. Lupin was also wearing the darkened glasses Tonks had provided for them, and he handed Hermione her pair, which she promptly put on. Severus could see that they were laughing together, and he felt a stab of jealousy. Oh, Merlin, he was well and truly screwed if the sight of her laughing with the werewolf could make him feel this way. With a snarled oath, he stood and strode off down the beach, away from the inns dotting the shore, his expression at once forbidding and forlorn.

Hermione looked down at the beachfront and saw Snape heading away from the holiday-makers inhabiting the blankets spread on the sand around their big beach umbrella. For a moment, she allowed her gaze to linger on his retreating figure, and then she looked away from him.

"Remus?" she said.

Lupin was in the act of swinging his long legs over the terrace rail to join her. "Yes?"

"Where is Tonks?"

Lupin pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head and rolled his eyes. "Have you ever heard of a Muggle activity called parasailing?"

Hermione's eyes grew wide in alarm as she copied his move and pushed her sunglasses up as well. "Is she insane?"

"I refused to accompany her, so she called me an old stick-in-the-mud and flounced off without me. You should have seen Severus' face when she invited him to go with her. That was almost worth the price of admission."

Laughing with him, Hermione sat down at the umbrella-shaded table and patted the seat beside her. "Sit down with me, Remus; I want to talk to you."

Lupin accepted her invitation and smiled at her with his usual warmth. "Yes, I think he likes you."

Without responding to this sally, Hermione said, "That's not what I want to talk to you about."

Lupin slumped a bit in his seat and his expression became wary. "What is it, then?"

Hermione decided to just take the plunge. "I think Tonks fancies you, and I know you fancy her, and neither one of you is doing anything about it."

Lupin looked away from her, gazing out across the sand to the horizon. "Hermione, I know that you are fond of me and fond of 'Dora. I am asking you, as a friend, not to interfere between us."

Hermione pursed her lips and regarded his profile, as he continued to look out to sea. "Why should I keep quiet about it, Remus? I know for a fact that you were the one who pointed Harry in the right direction with Ginny. And, that you made sure Luna Lovegood turned up at the Longbottom's party when Ron was having such a tough time." Hermione slapped the table top with one hand. "You have meddled on behalf of your friends more than once; it's about time somebody did the same for you."

Lupin turned his head and faced her. She saw such sadness in his eyes that she reached out and took his hand. With some difficulty, he said, "Hermione, I love her. Love her in the let's-get-married-and-have-lots-of-sex-and-babies kind of way."

"Then what's the problem..."

"No, listen to me. I am a werewolf. Yes, I've got the potion, but it doesn't change what I am. How could I ever ask a woman to make that part of her life? How could I? Especially if I love her?" His voice was down to a whisper and his head was now bowed.

Hermione resisted the urge to thump his hard head and said impatiently, "Don't you think that the woman in question is capable of making that decision for herself? Don't you think you could treat her like an adult and quit making decisions that affect BOTH of you without consulting her?" She wished very much that Severus Snape was present to hear this part of the conversation.

Lupin looked up in surprise at her exasperated tone. "What makes you think she would even want me? I don't think –"

Hermione interrupted him. "Remus, she told me last night that you are gorgeous and that you could have anyone you want. She believes you don't fancy her because you are such a gentleman to her." Trying to choose her words carefully, she continued, "We've all seen the way you act with the women you date. Give Tonks a taste of that, Remus."

Lupin began to look somewhat alarmed. "But I didn't love those women, Hermione. It's easy to be charming and to chat a girl up, when it really doesn't matter..."

"What's the worst thing that could happen, Remus?" she asked, as patiently as she could.

"She could laugh at me. No, I could stand that – but what if she never wanted to see me again?" He looked up solemnly. "The way things are now, I can see her as often as I like, whenever she's free. We hang out, we drink, we dance, we talk about things – it's perfect."

In exasperation, Hermione changed tactics. "What would you do if she took up with another man?"

Lupin stared at her in horror. "Has she?"

Hermione allowed herself a little smile of satisfaction at his change of demeanor. With a shrug, she said, "What if she has? You don't intend to do anything about it, and a girl has needs..."

Lupin stood so suddenly that his heavy wrought iron chair fell over with a loud crash. "Who is it? Tell me, Hermione. So help me –"

Hermione watched him as he reflexively reached for his wand, glowering at her in a challenging way, his eyes blazing. All of the pathetic whinging was over, and he was a wizard with a wand and a witch to watch over. She stood too and gave him a dazzling smile.

"Excellent! That was brilliant, Remus. Now, take that attitude off and go find your witch. I believe she is attempting flight without a broomstick." She waved in the vague direction of the other hotels, down the crowded side of the beach.

"Did you say that just to make me mad?" Lupin demanded, somewhere between asperity and amusement.

"I said it to make a point. Hell's bells, Remus, how are you ever going to get to the sex and babies part if you never even kiss her?"

She watched the expressions flit across Lupin's face as he considered her words. Normally, she was kinder and more patient with her friends, but right now, she was viewing Lupin as just another man who would not commit to a definite course of action; she was quite fed up with it.

"She said I was gorgeous?" he asked, apparently repeating the one piece of information that made no sense to him.

"Gorgeous," Hermione confirmed with finality.

With a sudden, exuberant smile, Remus grabbed Hermione in a quick hug, and swung her in a circle before putting her down. Without another word, he tucked his Disillusioned wand in his swim trunks at the small of his back and headed off to find Tonks.

Severus was walking back toward the inn when the terrace came into view. Lupin and Hermione were sitting with their heads together, holding hands. Severus increased his pace, keeping them in sight. Wouldn't it be ironic, if after all of his agonizing, she chose the werewolf over him? His lip lifted in an ugly snarl as he considered the possibility. Remus Lupin had been a handsome boy with popular friends, when Severus had been a scrawny, unappealing boy with no friends at all. Lupin had grown into a prematurely grey, battle-scarred man, who had still maintained some of his youthful good looks; Severus, on the other hand, had grown into a tall, angular, ill-favored man, who had only marginally improved from his unprepossessing youth.

As he bore down upon them, Severus saw Lupin shoot to his feet in a menacing way. If Severus had been within striking distance, he would have jinxed the bastard from behind for such threatening behavior. Almost immediately, though, Hermione was on her feet; Severus knew a moment of gratification as he waited for Hermione to turn her wand on Lupin. She did not attack him, but waved him off, it seemed, in a dismissive way. Not as satisfying as a good curse, but it would do, Severus thought. It pleased him to see her send Lupin about his business.

When Lupin caught Hermione up into his arms and twirled her around, Severus felt his jaw drop in consternation. The fury that filled him literally made him see red. Completely disregarding the dangers of being seen by a Muggle, he Disapparated.

Hermione was watching Lupin striding off when Snape Apparated right in front of her, startling a scream from her. The ferocity in his face made her take a step back, even as she was glancing quickly around to see if a Muggle had witnessed his appearance.

"What are you playing at?" she hissed at him. "You could have been seen!"

Snape controlled himself with a visible effort and ground out, "I would like to speak with you in private, if you please."

Incensed, Hermione flung back at him, "I wouldn't go into a room alone with you if you paid me!"

"You didn't even WAIT for a room alone with Lupin before you threw yourself at him! What's the matter, Miss Granger? Do we mere mortal men lack the bestial appeal of that savage wolf?"

Hermione stepped up to his hateful, insulting face and slapped him as hard as she could. Without waiting for his reaction, she ran into her room and closed the French doors with a pane-rattling slam.

Snape stood immobile on the terrace with the imprint of her hand on his cheek, feeling like an utter fool. He saw Hermione grasp the draperies in her hand and close them against him. With a grim determination, he righted the wrought iron chair Lupin had upset and seated himself facing the closed French doors, his back to the beach front.

Perhaps an hour of his surveillance had passed when he heard an approach from behind him – the strangest noises, really. He turned his head and saw Lupin and Tonks making slow progress toward the room Snape and Lupin were sharing. Slow because they were snogging and groping one another in a remarkably revolting public display. He wondered briefly if they would give up the fight and just shag right there in the sand, but he was relieved to see them make it up the terrace steps to the doors of the other room. As they fumbled their way indoors, Snape was confounded when Tonks looked directly at him, jerked her head toward Hermione's closed door, and then disappeared as Lupin kicked the door shut behind him.

Severus was conscious of a sensation as if the entire situation was spiraling out of his control with ever-accelerating speed. No longer was he agonizing over the choice he had to make; it was painfully clear to him that the choice had been made. His frenzy of possessiveness, ignited by the sight of Lupin giving Hermione a brotherly hug, told its own tale. If he were honest with himself – a distasteful exercise which he avoided whenever possible – he had to admit that the possessive feelings had been with him for three years, now. He had managed those feelings with an ironclad discipline until Hermione had arrived at Hogwarts and been in and out of his presence every day. How appalling that his self-control, which had stood him in such good stead for so long, was insignificant in the face of the dominion of the Enchantment.

He had not survived two wars with the greatest Dark Wizard of all time without learning some lessons about bowing to a superior force. He would have her, but he was still Slytherin enough to want it to be on his own terms. Would he have to brave the wounded Gryffindor lioness in her lair, or would circumstances enable him to achieve a more covert rapprochement? Resolutely, he began to gather the tatters of his pride and settled in to wait her out.

Patience was not an issue for him; some potions simply took longer to brew than others did.

A/N: The line, "get married and have lots of sex and babies," is shamelessly lifted from the divine mouth of Alan Rickman is the delightful film, Love Actually.