A Spot Of Trouble

An unholy amount of thanx to Dryad!

A Spot Of Trouble

Legs stretched out and ankles crossed, Hermione was seated under a shady tree upon a well-worn pine bench. Her dazed mind was trying to organise all the events that had occurred today while she slowly lapped away at a vanilla and peach swirl ice cream, from Fortescue's.

She had arrived early under the guise of making a good impression. And even as she sat alone with her icy treat, she managed a blush at the memory of her unforgettable introduction. Now that she thought about it with more attention, she was absolutely horrified. He had been forced to alert her to his presence as she had been wriggling around in his lap totally oblivious to his person.

Hermione groaned heavily with embarrassment.

Maybe that was why he had kissed her out of the blue like that? Had she given him some kind of signal with her actions? Surely he would have noticed from her shriek and embarrassment, that she had not noticed he was there.

'That kiss,' she thought as she closed her eyes inhaling deeply, the cool ice cream sliding around on her tongue. That kiss had been unlike anything she had ever experienced. Tender. Tentative even, then demanding. So demanding that in the end, it had consumed her. It had swallowed her whole, wrapping her up in the most breathtaking experience of her life. And it had taken her breath away, that much was for sure.

Sighing softly in confusion about what to make of this new development in her life, she finished her cone, dusted herself off and headed back to the ministry for an unwanted conversation.

"OF ALL THE IDIOTIC AND IMMATURE... WHATEVER POSESSED YOU?... HOW YOU MANAGE TO RUN A BUSINESS?.. "

Hermione heard snippet's of a one-sided argument when she stepped into the room and the first thing she thought was, 'Poor Neville'.

She could hear Severus doing his pumpkin pie at some poor sod, but couldn't see Severus anywhere. She did a double take when she heard the word business, so that had ruled out Neville who was obviously avoiding coming anywhere near whatever was taking place at the moment. Just then she saw a large bookcase swing open to reveal a very pissed off Snape, two totally cowed looking Weasley's and what looked like a state of the art potions lab. She had wondered where he had located that.

Apparently the Weasley twins Fred and George. Had heard that Snape would be heading up a new department in the MoM (via Dad) and decided that they were feeling a little mischievous.

And as mischief-makers do, they brainstormed and experimented for at least a week before they came up with their latest invention.

Inkling ink.

It truly was a crafty piece of magic; it would give those working with it, the need to do something. And they had decided to make that decision for the users of the ink. By adding pheromones, which would make them open to some rather lusty, urges.

The boys had managed to create a potion that replicated both male and female Pheromones and seeing as how the gland that detects the pheromones, which is called the Vomero Nasal Organ. Is separated from the organ in the nose, that is responsible for scent, they would be able to slip it by their ex-Potions Master's keen nose undetected.

So all they had done after that was come up with three nifty charms, to be able to use the pheromones without the person or persons in question becoming suspicious.

The first step to ensure this was to apply a binding charm. To avoid having the potion separate from the ink; this had to be applied as soon as they came into contact. The next and the final step was the trickiest. As it consisted of two charms, that had to be cast simultaneously with equal strength. One of them was what produced the inkling; it was a simple charm. Much like what happened to muggles, if they came across Hogwarts. They would have to turn off an iron, oven or maybe even a tap. It was irrelevant what it happened to be, they just had to do something.

The other was a time-release charm, which was why you had to be careful to cast them with equal strength because if you weren't, someone with the frantic need to do something, without something to do, would probably go insane. Needless to say you would have a huge mess on your hands.

The way it worked was quite ingenious actually. You dipped your quill in the ink and used it as per usual. When the slow release started to go off after a period of time. You would start to get your inkling. It would be a subtle change so you wouldn't notice. You would just start feeling like you should be doing something. Combine the unnoticed urge, with the fact that you're breathing in all those Pheromones at the same time. Of which more are being released as time goes on and there you have it, Inkling ink.

The twins figured they'd be doing the greasy bat a bit of a favour; it wasn't as if he could actually attract a witch with his winning personality.

To say Severus hadn't seen it as a favour was to say the least. The only reason he had been enlightened at all was due to those idiot boys finding Hermione was the one working with him and had blanched in horror at their realisation. They had then torn out of Arthur's office like sparks from a wand, to try and prevent them from using their custom made ink.

Suffice to say things hadn't turned out to well for Fred and George.

Hermione was currently sitting in one of the armchairs by the fire, Severus across from her with Fred and George occupying the two in the middle.

Once she was brought up to speed by a confession from the twins. Hermione had been absolutely mortified and couldn't figure out which was worse. The fact they had done something so stupid and thoughtless. Or the fact they actually knew, what had happened.

She didn't even know where to start. With her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, she had decided that today was forever going to be, the worst day of her life. She had managed a huge feat in gaining the acknowledgement of the ever stoic, Severus Snape. Even after she had made a fool of herself when she arrived. And now. Now she really did look like an idiot and they had done it. It was their entire fault. All because they had wanted to what? Have a laugh at Severus' expense.

Poor Severus, no wonder he had done his pastie; he was probably horrified that she had kissed him. Not to mention the fact that he was their main target that much was evident, as they hadn't known she would be working here. Come to think of it, they didn't even inquire or care about whom the witch involved would be. To her that seemed cruel and extremely low on their part. How dare they?

The man had suffered through Merlin knew what, risking his life for their own. He had walked a very fine line indeed between the light and dark, to keep them ahead in the game. She wasn't stupid, she had a fair idea of what death-eaters were capable of and expected to do. She knew to maintain his role; he would have had to do some pretty disconcerting things, she wasn't that naïve. It was no wonder why he was so snappish and terse with them all the time. Well not with his colleagues, but still he would have been put through a tremendous amount of stress and been under an extreme, wealth of pressure.

And this was how they saw fit to repay him for his sacrifices? This was the treatment he garnered for his efforts? Humiliation! Embarrassment! What for, detention's and a few cutting remarks? She was shrieking internally now.

Hermione stood up abruptly shocking the three males before her; she came to stand in front of the two culprits with her back to the fireplace allowing it to lend her an a vengeful glow. Eyes blazing ferociously with scorn, hands clenched into fists at her sides. Nails cutting into her palms, her back straight and stern as she managed to make them shrink in their chairs, fearful of what was to come from the picture she made.

Barely opening her mouth she hissed. "Careless. Cruel. Ungrateful. Immature boys, that's what you are. You make me sick the both of you. I don't know how you can call me friend" She swiftly pulled her wand out, gave her wrist a subtle flick and the sound of the boys receiving a simultaneous slap resounded through the room. She sheathed her wand back up her sleeve, nodded tersely to Severus by way of good evening and strode off into the lift.

Once the lift doors closed Fred started, "we really are,"

"truly sorry Professor," George finished.

Severus rose to his full imposing height and sneered leaning in, as he said, "I am not the loving, loyal friend that you have just hurt and humiliated. I suggest you save all your apologies for Hermione, if she ever sees fit to look at you again." He leaned in even closer looking very serious at the boys, who had unconsciously leaned back further in their chairs. "You will not mention this to anyone. Do you understand? Good. Don't think you've heard the last of this though." Here he straightened up and folded his arms with a sinister smirk. " After all. Revenge is a dish best served cold, is it not?"

Fred and George looked absolutely horrified at his last statement, "revenge". Oooh, they were definitely on a pitch full of bludges with no beater.

"Now get out of my sight, before I change my mind and hex you six ways from Sunday this instant," Severus barked out and then watched in amusement as the two boys scrabbled to get out of the room and away from his presence as quick as they could.

Severus quickly turned to the fireplace grabbed a hand full of powder and shouted "Baker's Delight." Before stepping into the floo.

Twenty seconds later the greenhouse door opened just a crack and Neville's wide, nervous little eye darted around the area. Before he flung the door open with great vigour and hurled himself towards the elevator as quick as his pudgy little legs could carry him.

Severus was determined to catch up to Hermione. He knew it would take her a while in the lift but he didn't want to risk missing her. So he flooed into an abandoned bakery a few blocks up. The ministry had commandeered it for emergency purposes in case they fell under attack. The tiny little shop had been barren apart from a few benches the fireplace and an extreme amount of dust. Which was doing a good job at irritating his sensitive nose. He carefully moved over to the window less he disturb any more particles. Just in time to see Hermione burst through the phone booth door with as much vigour as she had left the room with a few minutes earlier.

He cast a quick notice me not charm and strode quickly along so he wouldn't lose her. Severus had been surprised to find out that after graduating Hermione had bought and moved into her own flat. Severus hadn't laid eyes on her since her graduation until this morning. Now that he had it, he wasn't about to give up his opportunity to know where she was. He had kept at least five meters behind her in case she felt the magic near by; she had slowed in her gait now obviously having walked out her initial anger and was now strolling along with-ease. He noticed that they had been walking for quite a while and briefly wondered why she hadn't apparated before swiftly concluding that she was probably worried about splinching herself, which had worked to his advantage so he wasn't complaining.

They had now made what must be their last turn, as he could see her looking up, smiling at the middle townhouse in a set of three. It was the only one out of the set that looked well loved, the face of her home was painted in a cross between a Tuscan and heritage pink colour. The balcony railing which was wrought iron, was curling around in the pattern of creeping ivy and had been painted a rich heritage green 'almost Slytherin green,' he thought. Severus noted that in the terracotta planter boxes upon the railing, was a mixture of cooking herbs and spices along with some basic healing herbs.

Severus' eyes snapped up to the French doors on the top floor because they had been opened with force. She was still hanging onto the doorknobs when she thrust herself outward into the area of the balcony, while breathing in the breezy fresh air Mother Nature had to offer. The white fine lace curtains hitching a ride, out the doorway upon her gift, making Hermione look every bit the goddess he believed her to be. He viewed her as she tilted her features towards the heavens to try and catch the last touch of warmth from the afternoon sun. He had to leave. He had to get out of there now, lest his resolve fail him. And he didn't think she would be able to take much more today.

Severus apparated home to Snape Manor. One of his favourite rooms in the grand dwelling was the library; he had often found himself in this room the way he was now. He leaned back in the arm's crook of a much-loved chestnut brown, long leather sofa. He remembered fondly, a time when he was but a small child of five or six. How he used to make up his own little games counting all the buttons. They had been sewn in a sporadic diamond pattern across the surface.

Now though, as he reclined upon his dearly loved Chesterfield, he was not interested in counting the buttons. Seated so one of his lean silk pyjama-clad legs was stretched out languidly across the sofa, with the other slightly bent resting upon the plush carpeted surface. He lay comfortably against a few airy cushions, propped up just the right amount to be able to sip upon his brandy with ease.

This always happened when he had a few drinks. The thoughts he had want to escape were always the ones that persisted on coming forth. How could they not though? How could he not want to think such things? When it was these thoughts he had wanted to torture himself with; to think about 'her'.

He would never forget today. How she had been so passionate in her explanation trying to make him see that she was right, that she knew, that she was on the brink of figuring it out. The sparkling intelligence that had shone through her eye's as she defended her reasoning. The way her hands gestured frantically in a dance of their own, hypnotising his mind into watching the elegant flow of her movements, making him unable to tear his eyes away from them. How some of her wayward tresses had fallen down to frame an already perfect picture. The quill that had sat comfortably tucked away in her locks so she could work with ease was waiting patiently. Obediently. Cocooned in a vanilla scented, honey brown heaven until it would be needed again.

He knew it wasn't the effects of the Weasley's ink that had made him view her like that, for he viewed her that way all the time.

"Hermione." He caressed her name with a whisper from his lips; just the weight of the word was enough to make his chest hurt and his groin ache.

Even though her response had been induced, it didn't change the fact that he had experienced her responses.

The way she had gazed at him with wonders and questions in her eyes. He casually trailed light-fingered touches down his neck and chest, hissing as he dragged a nail over one of his nipples. The way she had sought out the touch of his hand and willingly leant into it eyes closed with trust as he caressed her cheek. He allowed his hands more pressure as he ran them down his stomach. How she had looked into his eyes after that, searching his very soul for answers. He gently teased his erection with nimble fingers. The sweet scent and feel of her warm abating breaths against his features.

He grasped himself firmly after he released his pulsing member. When she had shyly met his mouth with her warm swelling lips. Holding it tightly he pumped himself fiercely. And that sweet aroma, of vanilla that had wrapped around him when she had pulled upon his hair closer drawing him closer into her. The way it felt to feel her warm and responding body under his hands. He exploded hot sticky come up the front of his torso. He had held onto her for his life, thinking that if he were to lose her touch, he may very well wither away and die.

Somewhere through his lust filled foggy mind, he registered that he had brought himself to climax at the mere thought of his beautiful goddess. Before his body took over his mind and demanded his sleep, he succumbed willingly with a contented smile playing about his lips.