The Days When Passion Burns

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Inspiration for this belongs to Vanityfair who wrote this brilliant list on her LiveJournal at the first of the year. JKR owns the universe.

7 Days, 6 Hours, 20 Minutes

Severus had spent the majority of the next day preparing for his date with Hermione Granger, his last hope of finding a girlfriend before New Year's Eve. He had to admit that even without that deadline, he was somewhat attracted to her. Hell, in the deepest recesses of his mind he'd wanted to shag the living daylights out of her last New Year's Eve. Unfortunately, the fact remained that outside of teaching the girl for six years and meeting with her a few times to exchange information before the Dark Lord was killed, he really didn't know much about Hermione Granger at all.

However, from their brief conversation last evening, she was already more appealing than most of the other witches that he'd been out with over the last few weeks. Perhaps, since she obviously knew about the list already, they could work together to convince this simple piece of Charmed parchment that they were involved in a brief, serious relationship... in only the next seven days.

"Bloody hell!" Severus yelled as he realized the absurdity of that train of thought. There was no way this was going to work!

Rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hands in an effort to alleviate the dull ache that was now growing behind his eyes, Severus attempted to calm himself. He had only a few minutes until he was due to leave to pick up his dinner date. It had taken some considerable doing, but he had finally secured them reservations for dinner. It was, after all, Christmas Eve. Apparently that date meant that people – lots of people – enjoyed eating out at restaurants and celebrating.

He hadn't even bothered trying to make reservations for tomorrow night. The very idea that the girl would be joining him for another date, especially on Christmas Day, was almost absurd. Although, if he was truly interested in seeking her help in accomplishing this final task, he really didn't have any other choice but to see her after tonight.

He stopped by his desk and took a final glance at his list of resolutions. Since returning from Potter's Christmas party last night and ensuring that the other two items were indeed crossed out, he'd not looked. He just had to make sure one last time that his efforts tonight were going to the right item... that something hadn't come uncrossed.

That wouldn't really happen, would it? he wondered, briefly.

There it was, the only item not crossed out:

3. Find a girlfriend. And keep her. Preferably without the use of chains or the Imperius Curse – though chains might be fun. (Chains for her, not me.)

In his recent efforts to find a girlfriend, the longest he'd dated any of the women had been five days, and that had not satisfied the enchanted parchment. He had considered trying to date them longer to see if it qualified as "keeping her," but he had not found a woman that he'd been interested in and could tolerate being around for that long. Most of them were undereducated woman, more interested in their looks and social status than in anything worth talking about.

He could already hear the jeers and laughing when the wizarding world learned how he, Severus Snape, lost his magic. There was no chance the contract could be satisfied by dating a woman, any woman, for a mere seven days, he was certain.

He cursed himself for not having the patience to continue dating any women, especially with so much at risk. Though he'd done extensive research, he had no idea what it would take to satisfy this final item. His eyes fleeted over the words "chains" again, before he decided that was unlikely. It specifically said "without the use of chains or the Imperius Curse." Hmm... but what if he used chains and the Imperius Curse? If he could get away with chaining the girl up for a night of kinky sex – after all, he'd written "chains might be fun" – then he would be able to get away with casting an Imperio. Then again, the charmed parchment was like a ruddy solicitor and was unlikely to let him off with a technicality, so reluctantly he had to concede that neither was going to work.

After all, he'd found loop-holes for a few of the other resolutions. Why the hell couldn't he find one for this?

For the last few months, Severus had been under the delusion that real feelings must be involved to satisfy the contract. It was the entire term "girlfriend" that was hanging him up. Did that mean that he had to love her? Or that she had to love him? Unlikely, he decided, although mutual feelings of affection would likely be necessary. That could equate into varying levels of attraction; unfortunately with the previous dates, all of those levels of attraction soon left sometime during their date as they got to know one another. Severus had little tolerance for women who didn't possess any intellect, and most women had little tolerance for his... erm... wit.

Many times when he'd stared at his list, he'd wondered what it was that originally possessed him to include Miss Granger ... Hermione ... in so many of the original resolutions anyways. This was one of the small threads he was now clinging to; perhaps it had to be her. Yes, it was ridiculous, but stranger things had happened, he thought, and seeing as how Albus Dumbledore was involved...

The constant thinking in circles was intensifying his headache, and he realized that he was due to meet Hermione very soon. He decided that there would be time to give himself a migraine later, so he collected his winter cloak before setting out for the old Black residence.

He appeared on the doorsteps of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, at precisely six o'clock and knocked firmly on the door. He, unlike other members of the Order, remembered the obnoxious painting of Mrs. Black that hung in the hallway, and he was trying to make a somewhat decent impression on his date.

The door opened and he was surprised to be greeted by the tall and gangly red-head. The young man glowered at him slightly before opening the door wide enough to allow Severus entry into the house, then stepping in front of him, not allowing him to go any further than the entryway.

"Good evening, Mr. Weasley," Severus said.

"Snape," Ron replied.

"I'm here to escort..."

"I know why you're here," the younger wizard said, cutting Snape off.

"I see," Severus said with a scowl that he had once reserved solely for intimidating Longbottom.

"I'm not your student any longer, and if you think that you can go around trying to bully Hermione the same way that you did all of us in school, then you've got another think coming."

Deciding that he wasn't going to take this or any other kind of abuse, Severus closed the distance between himself and Weasley with a single stride. Leaning his face mere inches from his prey, he hissed, "You have no right to judge me, Weasley. Nor to even hint that I would treat my date in such a way. Keep your comments and your threats to yourself, or you will learn very quickly what I am truly capable of."

"What is going on down here?"

Severus stepped back from the wizard to see that Hermione had come down the stairs and was now assessing the situation before her. "Nothing, I assure you. I was just letting your friend here know that you are in safe hands."

Ron snorted.

"I'll be fine, Ron," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Don't wait up."

She turned and stepped towards Severus, and took his arm before he could get a good look at her. "Shall we?"

Severus nodded, ignoring the warning looks given by the other person in the small entryway, and led the young woman out through the door.

*** ~~~ *** ~~~ *** ~~~ ***

Their date was starting out as uncomfortably as possible.

The maitre d' recognized the former Potions professor the moment the couple entered the restaurant. "Ah, Mister Snape, we had your reservation for six o'clock. When you did not arrive I had to give your table away to another couple. If you don't mind waiting, I'm sure we can find you something," the man simpered, insincerely.

"I made the reservation for six-thirty," Severus argued.

"Well, it is here in our books for six, Mister Snape."

Severus recognized the little whelp. He was a former student who had melted at least one cauldron every quarter, and thus had faced the former Potions master's wrath on multiple occasions. No wonder he was giving him such a hard time.

Torn between wanting to tear the boy limb from limb and trying to rein in his temper in order to impress his date, Severus finally settled for a growl. Then, with a Galleon, he asked if the maitre d' could possibly squeeze them in someplace.

And squeeze them in he did.

In the tiniest table in back – near the kitchens, of course.

Groaning at the obvious cliché, Severus bit back the retort while his date stifled a giggle. "I trust you are enjoying yourself, Hermione?" he asked as they were seated.

"I am."

And with that, their date began.

The table to which they had been escorted was indeed small. Severus could hardly keep his feet off of Hermione's. The tops of his knees brushed the underside of the tabletop, and he had to be careful not to tip the entire table over. Not to mention that their plates, cutlery, and glasses barely fit on the table. He had no idea how it was going to accommodate anything else. Although, he assured himself, that was often where magic came into play.

The beginning of their date had been somewhat awkward. Severus could not get the idea out of his head that he was indeed sitting in one of the finest dining establishments in wizarding London with a lovely young witch, having a pleasant conversation, when not more than three years ago she had been sitting in his classroom manically waving her hand, barely able to keep her mouth shut.

Hermione wore a deep burgundy robe that fell slightly off of her shoulders and dipped down, accentuating her breast line. (And Severus had quite a time of it to not stare obviously at said breast line.) Despite his dislike for her House colors, Severus had to admit that the color suited her skin tones and brought out the golden hues in her hair. Her hair was pulled up loosely on top of her head with stray curls that rested on her shoulders. The fact that she wore only a slight amount of make-up to highlight the features she already had, unlike many of the witches he'd recently met, was hugely in her favor.

Appearance-wise, Hermione Granger was more than satisfactory.

The conversation, too, was pleasant. After stumbling through a few "Professors" and "Miss Grangers," they were able to find some common ground on the latest in Potions and Defense research, his fields of interest, and Charms and Transfiguration, which were hers.

After a lengthy conversation about the latest in the study of the defense of Unforgivables, Severus was left wondering if Hermione had revised for their date to try to impress him, or if she truly was that well versed in the subjects, even post-school. When he asked her this, she asked him how much he studied on latest theory on maintaining long-term Transfigurations.

As she was taking a bite of her chocolate mousse, he leaned cautiously over the table and spoke in a hushed voice, "You said that this evening you would explain what has happened, Hermione. You have yet to do that. I have several questions for you."

He watched, almost transfixed, as a satisfied look overcame Hermione as she swallowed the bite of pudding in her mouth. She smiled, obviously noticing his interest. Sitting back, Severus took a sip of his coffee, feigning indifference.

"Where do you wish me to start, Severus?" Hermione asked. She had obviously been waiting for him to bring up the subject.

"Why don't you start with how you learned the location of my Secret-Kept house?"

"Well," she began, after taking a deep breath and looking at him. "While you were in the coma at St. Mungo's, I was there to see you everyday."

At this confession, she took a drink of her own coffee, but immediately continued with her story when Severus did not react. He'd already heard that bit of information from Lupin at Potter's Christmas party last night.

"There were Aurors standing guard outside your door, and then I overheard Scrimgeour talking about how they could probably get away with having a trial without you even being conscious. Everyone would want Dumbledore's killer locked up and off of the streets." She stopped and waited for his reaction, uncertain if he would yell or if he'd expected her to say these things.

Noticing this, Severus motioned his hand waving her to continue. "It comes as no surprise. Go on."

"I went to Minerva's office and spoke with her to see if she knew of any way that we could help you. She didn't, but just as she was speaking, Dumbledore's portrait interrupted her. While Dumbledore was talking, we were again interrupted by the Board of Governors. You see, I had stopped by without an appointment and Minerva had become so caught up in our discussion that she had lost track of time..."

"The point, Hermione," Snape reprimanded, in an effort to put her back on track.

"Oh, yes. Sorry. Anyhow, some members of the Board of Governors came by to tour the grounds and speak with the new teachers. So, she left me there to speak with the portrait. The battle had only been a few days before and people were still recovering, otherwise I think that Minerva would've said something and retrieved the information that I did," she seemed to hastily explain. "The portrait of Dumbledore couldn't give me much information other than that he'd left a Last Will and Testament. He'd not wanted anyone to find it until after Harry had killed Voldemort, but the Will would exonerate you."

"And of course, you found this document."

"Of course."

"And he wrote in there the location of my house? I do have a hard time believing that, Hermione, as it seems that there was only one person ever at my house, and the Will was read by many persons."

"Well, there was the Will and a letter. They were both in the same location, but if one didn't think to look for them they never would've found them."

"And where, pray tell, did you find them?"

"In the Mirror of Erised," she said with a smirk. "I desired to find Dumbledore's Will, so that part was easy. Just like with Harry and the Philosopher's Stone, I looked in the mirror and saw that the legal document was suddenly sticking out of my pocket. But on a whim, I then desired to see if there was something else that could help you."

"Ah, I see. And that second letter must have held the address," Severus deduced.

"Yes. I'm sorry for invading your privacy like that, going to your house while you were in the coma. But I needed access to the house to gather some of the evidence for your trial. Even with Dumbledore's Will, Scrimgeour was pushing to have your trial as soon as possible. He had Harry as an eyewitness. They didn't want your testimony. And as I get reminded so very often... this isn't the Muggle world."

"No, it is not," Severus said in a firm tone. "So, you obviously found the evidence you needed for my acquittal."

"Well, seeing as you're presently sitting here and not in a dingy little cell in Azkaban, that would be the rational deduction."

"You are entirely too smug for your own good," Severus said without much conviction.

Hermione grinned impertinently, then went on to tell him about the nuisances of the trial – sealed details he couldn't have heard from other sources or read about in the old issues of the Daily Prophet. It was a rather odd situation to be in, he admitted, to have been acquitted of a crime and never having had to be present for the trial. Truth be told, he'd not wanted to hear about it before. He'd wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and the memory of his involvement in Albus Dumbledore's murder. The fact that most people were too scared to approach him, had played strongly in his favor as to why he'd not been harassed over this issue.

Severus watched Hermione as she sipped on her coffee. Listening to her outline how she had saved him while he'd been unconscious caused a mixture of feelings to rise up within him. No, this wasn't new. He knew that all of this had happened. He'd been told before. He knew that Hermione had somehow found her way into his house. He'd learned just last night that she'd spent nearly every waking moment at his bedside while he'd been in a coma. But having her confirm all of this to him was a bit overwhelming.

He narrowed his eyes at her as his emotions continued to swirl.

"What else did you want to know?" Hermione asked.

He looked at her for a long moment. "Being direct now, are you?"

"Well, yes. It seems to be the most logical thing. No reason to hold things back."

"Of course. Since you are offering yourself to me..." The corner of his lip quirked up as his voice trailed off suggestively.

"For much longer than you've known, Severus," she said with a cheeky grin.

"In that case, perhaps we should take this someplace else," he said. He scooted his chair out from the table, but before he could stand, he was stopped when a familiar-looking witch approached their table. Trimmed like a tree, the woman wore bright red and green robes with a large gold bow tied round the waist. She had another golden bow tied in her bouffant hair. And dangling from her earlobes, Severus could swear that he saw tiny little packages with flashing lights. And was that gold eyeshadow?

"Oh, Severus!" the shrill voice proclaimed.

"Deirdre," he groaned as he closed his eyes. He could swear that he could almost hear Hermione attempting to stifle a giggle.

"I thought that was you! I was sitting over there with my brother and I turned to him and said, 'I bet that's Severus Snape over there.' And lo and behold here you are!"

"Yes, here I am," he mumbled. This time Hermione did giggle, and Severus lightly kicked her under the table and glared at her. His dinner companion sucked on her lower lip and attempted to look abashed while Severus turned his attention back to the intruder.

"Well, Severus, it's just lucky that I saw you! For some reason I haven't been able to get an owl to you. My correspondences keep coming back unopened. I just cannot understand why. But I wanted to see you. I heard about your," she leaned in closer to the table and spoke a bit softer, although her voice was still rather shrill and Severus was certain that nearly half the restaurant could hear her, "you know, your addiction. I wanted to see if I could help you out. I ran into Margery and she told me how you... well, you tried to get her to use chains. Well, she's not into that kinky stuff, but I'm more than willing. In fact, if you wanted to make a threesome out of the deal..." Deirdre said while winking at Hermione.

At this, Severus jumped up from his chair, bumping the overcrowded table as he did so, and ever so eloquently tipping the table and its contents onto Hermione's lap.

Hermione, in turn, jumped as the remaining coffee, wine, and pudding fell onto her.

"I am not a sex addict!" Severus spat at Deirdre. "There is a reason that your letters have gone unopened. You are, perhaps, one of the most annoying little tarts that I've ever been forced to acquaint myself with. I had to take several potions just to keep from killing myself before, during, and after each evening in your horrible presence. Now, get out, before I do something that I truly regret. There is a lady here who is a lady and who does require my attention!"

Appearing highly affronted, Deirdre stomped her foot and huffed as she stormed off. That was when Severus heard the little tinkling bells on the woman's shoes.

Several waiters were rushing towards their table, all brandishing their wands and attempting to clear up the mess. Both Severus and Hermione had their wands out as well, and several flicks later, the table was set to rights and the majority of the damage had been cleared up.

Hermione, however, was obviously still not happy. Despite, or more likely in spite of, all the foolish wand-waving by three inept waiters, her robes were still covered in what had been left on their table. Now, even she couldn't get the mess to come off her robes without removing the robes entirely.

To make matters worse, they had drawn the attention of nearly every occupant in the vicinity. All eyes were waiting to see what would occur next in this drama that was more interesting than the latest episode of The Days When Passion Burns, a serial on the Wizarding Wireless Network that was listened to every afternoon, by nearly every house-witch in wizarding Europe.

His young date looked lost and undecided between tears, anger, and a slight mix of humor. Attempting to remedy the situation, Severus quickly flicked his wand. After conjuring a privacy screen around the area of their table, he took a step towards Hermione.

"Stay back, please," she said, as she took a step away and held her hand up to him.

"Hermione..." he began.

"Please tell me that you didn't actually shag that woman, Severus," she interrupted.

"Quiet!" he hissed, turning his head and peering around the screen. It may block sight, but certainly not sound.

"Bloody hell! Muffliato!" she said, pointing her wand at the screen. "It's your stupid spell!"

He looked at her at a loss for words, until she spoke again a moment later. "Now, tell me that you didn't actually shag that woman. Derdrie, DeeDee, Deirdre, whatever her name was!"

"That, my dear, is none of your damn business."

"Like hell it isn't!"

"Might I suggest that we take this conversation elsewhere, as that spell you cast only works to muffle the sounds, it will do little to shut out your shouting."

"Fine."

Hermione had her cloak on in a trice and stormed past the privacy screen.

Severus hastily settled the tab and followed her out of the restaurant, uncertain whether it was better to take her back to his place, like he had planned, or just escort her home. No matter what, he couldn't get it out of his head that this was yet another failed attempt at getting a girlfriend. He wondered what life would be like living as a Muggle and for a brief moment ran through a few choice modes of suicide.

"Are you going to answer my question, Severus?" Hermione asked once they were outside the restaurant.

"Yes, I did. But you need to understand the precarious situation that I am in, Hermione. If I don't complete my list by..."

"Sod your list, Severus! You do realize that finding a girlfriend and keeping her does not include shagging every woman that you come in contact with, don't you? Haven't you figured it out yet?"

"What are you blathering about, woman?"

She took a deep breath and exhaled. "It's freezing out here, Severus. I would like to go home now, please," she said, her voice suddenly much calmer.

"Hermione, if you know how to complete that last item on the list, I'd appreciate it if you'd just tell me. I'm running out of time here." He tried to hide the desperation in his voice, but quite frankly at this point Severus hardly cared.

"You can either escort me home now, Severus, or I will Apparate myself. Make your decision now."

Out of options, Severus linked his arm through Hermione's and they disappeared from the pavement, reappearing on the stoop of number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Hermione opened the door and stepped inside. She turned to him before she disappeared within the old house and said, "Be here tomorrow at noon."

"I am not spending Christmas with Potter."

"Either be here or you will find yourself without my help. The clock is counting down, Severus, as I'm sure that you're plainly aware. If you'd prefer, however, I'm sure that if you hurry you may still be able to catch that lovely Miss Deirdre back at the restaurant."

Severus glowered at her. "Tomorrow at noon. Good evening, Hermione," he said dutifully through gritted teeth.

"Good night," she said before shutting the door.

The last thoughts he had before Disapparating was that she had better be telling the truth about knowing how to complete the last item, and she had better tell him how to do it first thing tomorrow so they could get on with it. Otherwise Severus had to make some new plans about either how to live life as a Muggle (he gave an involuntary shudder) or brewing a suicide potion so that he could get out of this hellish existence.

A/N: Well, I had written most of the ending of this story but wasn't happy with the way it was going. So, like a good little writer, I trashed it. Sorry. Not a total surprise. But that means that I lied. Really, that shouldn't surprise you. This is not the last chapter. The next chapter is not the last chapter. I have rewritten most of the final chapter, though, and I really like it. So, at least I know where we're going. :)

As always, thanks to my excellent betas, JuneW and SnarkyRoxy!