Six

A/N: Hello awesome readers! I'm afraid you'll have to wait one more chapter to solve the mystery of Harry's knapsack, but I trust this chapter will be suitably distracting. I'm having such fun writing this! I've already finished chapter eleven, and ready to start on twelve. I am updating pretty quickly, so make sure you don't miss a chapter. Sloppy kisses to everyone who has taken a moment to review.

Disclaimer: They are not mine, I only take them out to play.

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Hermione was a trifle shocked when Steven led her over to a navy blue car parked on the street, unlocked it with the click of a button on some device held in his hand, and opened the passenger side door for her like a gentleman. As he settled in behind the wheel, she recovered enough to find her voice.

"You drive?" She tried to keep the shock out of her voice but was only moderately successful.

"But of course." He pulled the car out into traffic with grace and skill. "I may not have much experience with...hmm...dating, but I assure you I am not pants at everything."

"I never thought you were," she hastened to reassure him. "I was only a little surprised. I don't drive at all."

"Really? I find that rather difficult to believe. Why did you never learn?"

"Oh, I don't know. When the time came, I was very busy with schoolwork and such. It never seemed all that important."

Steven accepted this with no further question and she was glad of it. There was no way to explain to him that witches had other ways to travel, or that when she might have been learning to drive, she was embroiled in a wizarding war.

"I could teach you sometime. If you'd like."

"I would enjoy that, Steven. Thank you."

By the time this conversation was finished, they had arrived at the restaurant, Lalibela.

"Oh," she breathed, as he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and guided her inside. "It's an Ethiopian restaurant."

"I hope that's all right. Do you like Ethiopian food?"

"Never had it, but I've always wanted to try it."

"Well, it will be a little adventure for you then."

The place was fairly casual. With its cream-colored walls and shiny woodwork, it looked more like a nice pub than an ethnic restaurant. The aroma of the food was spicy and exotic, making her mouth water.

The food wasn't the only thing making her mouth water. Severus sat across from her at a small, intimate table for two. He had on another one of his turtleneck sweaters, this one a deep burgundy. His neck must be badly scarred by Nagini's fangs if he so consistently covered it up. Though she felt sorry he felt it necessary, she wasn't complaining. The soft knit clung to his form, showing off every muscle of his trim frame. She'd never been attracted to the big, body-building type, but Steven's more lithe frame was very distracting indeed.

"Will you trust me to order for you?" he inquired politely.

A little overwhelmed by a menu filled with things she had never heard of, Hermione readily agreed. While she would never allow any man to make all her decisions for her, it was rather sexy to have Steven order for them both with quiet assurance.

He was certainly not the unmannered heathen Minerva had described. Was this quietly charming man the result of Lucious Malfoy's work, or had his manners improved in his years living as Steven the Muggle? He still wore his emotions on his sleeve, as he demonstrated earlier in the evening. But he was so strikingly different than her former professor, it was difficult to remember they were the same man.

She never would have imagined the fastidious Severus Snape going to a restaurant where one ate with one's hands. When the food arrived, he did exactly that, with a grace and tidiness she never would have imagined. Their food arrived on one gigantic communal plate, an equally large flatbread with different piles of delicious smelling food scattered over it. One broke off a bite of bread, scooped up a bit of something, and popped the lot in one's mouth. Hermione was not quite as neat as her companion. It was little wonder. She was constantly distracted by his strong hands as they ate, as well as his lips as he delicately cleaned off the tip of a finger.

In her defense, Steven seemed equally distracted by her. His dark eyes watched her bring her fingers to her mouth to consume another spicy morsel. No, she would never have thought that Snape would pick a restaurant like this. Instead of it being messing and embarrassing, as she had feared it would be, the meal was romantic, erotic even. As Steven slipped another finger into his mouth and sucked gently, she felt a sensual shiver that ran all the way to her toes.

The conversation was light until the meal was nearly at an end. Over a last drink, Steven grew a little pensive.

"What is it?" she asked softly.

He looked at her with an expression of slight anxiety. "You read me far too easily. Marta always says that I can keep a secret like nobody's business but I can't hide my emotions to save my soul."

"Nothing wrong with that," she reassured him. "It's rather nice for a girl to have a good idea where she stands with someone."

He chuckled at that. "How kind of you to turn my fault into a virtue. Please feel free to do so with all of my many faults."

"Not so many, I dare say," Hermione murmured.

The man actually lowered his eyes and blushed slightly at that. The sight of Severus Snape blushing made her want to snog him silly and give him something to truly blush about. She'd never really been the aggressor in a potential relationship, if aggressor was the right word. Never set out to woo a man. Settled for dropping hints and trying to look good. It never occurred to her that being the instigator would be such a turn on for her. She wiggled in her seat a little as she waited for Steven to speak.

"There's something I should tell you about myself...hmm...if we are going to see each other. But I find myself...concerned."

Reaching out, she covered his hand in her own and squeezed gently. She knew all too well what he wanted to confess. A past obliterated. Life memories which only went back five years. There was no way she could tell him that she already knew. She was unwilling to make her own confession this soon in the relationship as well, and she had much more to hide.

"Steven, we aren't in a hurry here. The truth is, we don't know each other that well yet. If we did, we never would have had that misunderstanding earlier." He blushed again at that, but she ignored it and continued. "I have things I should tell you as well...before things get too serious. I'd feel better if we got to know each other a little better before I went rattling all my skeletons out of the closet. Why don't we carry on for now, and when you feel comfortable telling me about yourself, I'll be ready to listen."

"You are really the most amazing creature I have ever met," he murmured.

"I find you rather amazing as well."

They left the restaurant shortly after that. Hermione's head spun for a moment when he insisted on driving her home. There were so many things that could go wrong, and a sudden introduction to magical events could have serious results for the Wizard who had lost his memory. In the end, she relented. Her flat was on a Muggle street at the edge of a wizarding neighborhood. It should be safe enough.

He walked her to her door and then stood staring down at her, a slight look of anxiety on his dear face.

"Steven, have you ever kissed anyone before?"

"Not until you," came the whispered reply.

"Why don't you give it a try?" she whispered back.

"I don't know what I'm doing." A frustrated huff of breath.

"It's not brain surgery, Steven. Certainly, it takes a little practice, like anything worth doing. But it's kind of like practicing to eat chocolate cake."

He leaned down, so slowly, stopping with his mouth a scarce inch from her own.

"Cake?" he breathed against her lips.

"Yes, you might not eat it perfectly correctly the first time, but you still get cake."

One of his hands came up to cup the back of her head and the other wrapped softly around her waist. Hermione brought both hands up to his temples to clutch them in his hair. Then his mouth was on hers, lips parted, moist and hot against her mouth, moving with hesitant slowness. She responded immediately, her tongue darting into his mouth to slide against his and lick at his palate. When her tongue retreated, his followed, mimicking her actions with devastating effect. She groaned into his mouth and his arms suddenly tightened around her, squeezing her into his body so tightly that she could feel the hard length of his arousal pressing into her stomach.

As if suddenly concerned about the obvious proof of his excitement, he tried to back his hips away from her, but Hermione was having none of that. Sliding her hands down his back, she gripped his tight, denim-clad arse and tugged him back against her. He pressed his hard cock to her with a throaty moan that made certain parts of her anatomy clench in reaction. He was big, by the feel of him. She longed to have that hard length pounding into her, but it was too soon. A virgin should be wooed, petted, made out with. They should take all the steps he had missed when he was young, so that when the big event finally arrived, he was ready for anything.

His mouth was becoming more skilled by the second. At first, he had only mimicked her own actions. Now, he was expanding his repertoire as he explored and tasted her. Hermione's entire body trembled in reaction, her toes curled, her heart pounded. It was all she could do to ignore her mission to take things slowly and not drag him bodily into her flat and straight to her bed.

Eventually, the desperate need for air forced them to stop. Hermione wound her arms around his waist, leaned against his chest, and listened to his thundering heart. His arms remained around her and he leaned his face into the hair on the top of her head.

"That was...hmm...unprecedented," he murmured into her hair.

Lifting up, he placed one palm under her chin and raised her face to him. His gaze traveled with clear affection as he studied her eyes, her mouth, and the soft swell of her breasts at the neckline of her sundress.

A tiny worry wrinkled the flesh between his eyebrows. "Was it...hmm...was I..."

"Fabulous," she said with complete honesty. "Your first real kiss and you curled my toes. Good Lord, Steven, when you get a little more practice, I'll be a puddle at your feet."

He grinned at her, relief and pleasure shining from his face. "You truly are the most amazing creature. When shall I see you again?"

"I'll be studying again with Harry on Friday. Perhaps you would like to come here? I could cook us dinner."

"I'd be delighted."

Then he kissed her again. It was shorter this time, and more tender, but no less devastating to her senses. When he bid her goodnight, again he kissed her hand, this time with an open mouth and a slow, deliberate swipe of his tongue. She trembled again and watched him from her open doorway until he returned to his car and drove out of sight.

Once inside, she flopped on her sofa, feeling boneless and as if she still wasn't getting enough oxygen to her brain. Even with no experience at all, the man was sex on legs. It would take an iron will not to rush this. She had to, though. There was no way she was going to go the full Monty with him before she confessed the magical side of her life. If that drove him away, so be it. She had to be honest if she stood any chance of having a real relationship with the man. Wouldn't that be something? Having him waiting at home when she was done for the day. Snuggling on the sofa smooching while he asked her about her day and told her about his. Having real conversations instead of boring dissertations on Quidditch.

So distracted was she by the thought, Hermione almost forgot her promise to go see Harry and find out about the weird fascination Steven had with Harry's knapsack. Taking a moment to fix her hair, she headed for the floo. Harry teased her enough already, she didn't want to show up looking like she'd just been snogged within an inch of her life.