Shakespeare, Act 2

Shakespeare, Act 2

Snape awoke the next morning feeling satisfied with his plan to wait out the spell and much more comfortable with his attraction to Miss Granger. He had dreamed of her. In his dreams, she had indeed returned his affections. A smug smirk crossed his face. Several times. Typically, if he dreamed at all, the visions were guilt-ridden night terrors that would curl the toes of full grown wizards. Hermione evoked dreams of soft, supple skin pressed against his own, and tender, whispered words that caressed his ears while gentle hands caressed his skin.

In his youth, Snape had yearned for a true, loving relationship. He had believed that particular wish was abandoned long ago. Now, the spell had reawakened this desire and offered a glimmer of hope. He mused over Miss Granger's formidable intelligence, the curiosity sparkling in her eyes, and her passion for knowledge – qualities that must have planted her in his subconscious desires. Just perhaps, she would help him make his long suppressed wish become reality.

Speculation, however appealing, would not get him to Minerva's office before she left for the Great Hall. Before he could leave his rooms, however, he had a bit of a "situation" to resolve. Reluctantly leaving the warm confines of his dreams' haven, Snape quickly headed toward the loo. He really was running out of time.

With his morning ablutions, including a very cold shower, finished as quickly as possible, Snape left for Minerva's office to request her assistance. He made it as far as the Entrance Hall when he stopped cold. Hermione Granger was meandering slowly across the hall, apparently lost in her own thoughts.

He was certain she had not yet noticed him, but he was more than aware of the tingling sensation of the spell's magic flooding through him again. Frozen, he was unable to retreat and unwilling to close the gap between them. Snape threw all of his formidable energies into the usually simple task of keeping his distance from the young woman and trying to keep his mouth shut.

When Hermione was just a few feet away from Snape, she finally noticed him. As soon as she looked up, their eyes locked. The magic surged. Snape strained to hold it back, his face contorting with the exertion.

"Minerva has just explained your predicament to me, Professor," she said, still closing the gap between them inch by inch. "I am so sorry for my behavior in town yesterday. I do hope you will forgive me."

Internally, Snape sighed defeat. Is it too much to ask that she would have just continued through the Hall without noticing me? Outwardly, however, the spell broke through his resistance. His hand reached forward of its own accord to grasp hers. He drew it to his chest, pulling her closer to him.

"'The miserable have no other medicine but only hope.' Hermione, my love, the fault is entirely my own," he purred in his silkiest voice, all the while trying to plead with his eyes for her to take mercy on him. "Your beauty simply overwhelms my sensibilities." Ugh, back to the Shakespeare. The gods obviously hate me. Now please, woman, just leave and end this humiliating spectacle.

Hermione seemed to understand, at least to some degree, his unspoken plea. As he began speaking, the young woman scanned their surroundings. She pulled her hand from his chest, along with his own, and forcibly led him across the Hall. They stepped into a rarely used corridor, away from the prying eyes and ears of his students and colleagues. Snape silently thanked her for her sensibility.

"More Shakespeare, Professor? That was one of many aspects of the curse Minerva seemed at a loss to explain." She shot him a wry grin. "Perhaps the quote, 'The better part of valour is discretion,' will please your current sensibilities?" she quipped, obviously amused with herself.

The humorous intent of her question neither escaped nor amused Snape, but under the influence of the spell's power, he was limited in his response. He wanted nothing more than to hotly declare that he saw nothing humorous about his current affliction. Instead, he found himself firmly pulling the young woman to him. He was barely able to suppress a groan of pleasure as he felt her luscious curves press against the length of his body.

He caressed the soft skin of her cheek as he looked down at her. "'The lady doth protest too much, me thinks'," he quoted with a smirk, reaching to bury his hand in her silky curls. He leaned close to scatter feather-soft kisses down her earlobe and across her jaw line.

Snape knew the spell was intensifying, but was no longer sure he even wanted to resist. She smelled of a delicious blend of lavender and vanilla. Her body felt so right flush against his, and her hair was so soft. Why not allow himself to enjoy this moment? She would certainly blame the spell for his actions and wouldn't hold him accountable once the spell wore off.

When he looked down at her again, he immediately regretted such thoughts. For just a moment, she gently leaned her head back into his hand, but her eyes looked so sad as she gazed up at him. Then she took a small step back. He immediately missed her warmth, even though she was less than a foot away.

"Professor, I think it would be best if I go. You are under a very powerful love spell. Neither your words nor actions are under your control. I do not yet know the details of this curse, or how I became involved, but I do know that you are not acting of your own free will on your true feelings. I do hope you will not hold this against me in the future. I did not intend to cause you further trouble."

She doesn't know the details? Minerva didn't explain that the spell causes my genuine feelings to emerge? Damn it, Minerva! You could have made it at least a little easier for me! But no! You're going to make me explain this to Miss Granger myself when the spell wears off. And if I say so much as a word about your meddlesome ways, you'll just grin and spout some rot about how it's better this way! Ruddy wench!

Even as the thoughts were screaming in his mind, his hand sprung into action. It slid down over Hermione's cheek and cupped her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. His other hand still clutched her hand.

"'Doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love'," he quoted, allowing the spell to bring forth the response it deemed appropriate. Then, in a strong surge of will, he attempted to force at least a little explanation of his predicament through the spell's restraints. "My dearest heart, I beg you: Search your brilliant mind, then search your heart. Sinus amor cupido declaro."

Snape sagged from the amount of effort required to utter something not of the curse's making, but did not release his grip on the young woman. He hoped she would grasp his meaning.

Hermione simply stared at him, speechless, as the seconds passed by.

"'My love's more richer than my tongue'," he finally said softly. Only then did he release her.

Hermione seemed to snap out of her stupor. "I will do my research, Professor, as you have requested. I hope that if I stay clear of the castle until the curse has run its course, you will suffer less. However, I do ask that you at least give me the opportunity to discuss the results of my research with you. I will give you a week. If I have not seen you at the week's end, I will return to find you."

Snape gave a slight bow. "It would be my dearest pleasure, m'lady," he replied, before brushing a brief open-mouthed kiss to the palm of her hand. I should have expected no less. I asked her to research the curse. Of course Know-It-All Granger would want to discuss any information she finds. I can only hope that she does find the explanation. I'm not sure I can admit I have been harboring concealed affections.

Hermione understood the implied dismissal. She gently pulled her hand free and walked to the door. Pausing to glance over her shoulder, she seemed to search his face for additional information. Her expression did not reveal whether she found what she was looking for. After a few moments, she turned and left.

Snape stood in the empty passage, exhausted by his struggle with the curse. Even though he had been unable to restrain the flowery endearments and physical reactions, he had made his point. For the moment, he was simply pleased that the confrontation was ended.

A/N:

"The miserable have no other medicine but only hope" is from Measure for Measure, Act III, Scene I.

"The better part of valour is discretion" is from King Henry IV, Part 2, Act V, Scene IV.

"The lady doth protest too much, me thinks" is from Hamlet, Act III, Scene II.

"Doubt that the sun doth move... " is from Hamlet, Act II, Scene II.

"My love's more richer than my tongue" is from King Lear, Act I, Scene I.

Thank you to all of you who have stuck with this story. I apologize for the delay in the updates. Unfortunately, real life decided to interfere for awhile. This will, thankfully, be the end of Shakespeare's interference. I've never done as much research for a fanfiction as I've done looking up all of the quotes for this story. I just couldn't contain my glee over the thought of making Snape quote some of Shakespeare's most gushing overtures. I had to share them with you. Only one more chapter to go.