Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Any characters, places, etc. you recognise belong to J. K. Rowling. Many thanks to her for creating this magnificent world in the first place. No copyright infringement is intended.

Huge thanks to Anogete for betaing this.

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Severus Snape settled down in his favourite armchair before the crackling fire and placed the glass of Firewhisky and the proofs of Between Fascination and Threat: the Dark Arts, the book he had co-written with Minerva McGonagall, on the table next to him. It was an evening in early October, and already the first storm of the year was howling around his house.

He had bought the modest cottage at the seaside after the war. He loved the sea and had always wanted to live near it. The house was standing on a hill far away from the next village, so that there was hardly any chance of people accidentally walking in on him. It had been completely derelict when he bought it, but over the last year he had put a lot of work into it and improved it quite a bit. He had also managed to reconstruct part of his extensive library that had been lost when his old house at Spinner's End burnt down, courtesy of some overzealous Aurors. Of course, the Ministry had been extremely sorry about the incident after his name had been cleared.

Apart from Hogwarts, the little farmhouse had become the closest thing resembling a home Snape had ever had, and he loved it dearly. He spent all the school holidays here and generally came whenever he wasn't needed at the school, or when he needed to get away from it. Recently, he had found that to be the case rather often.

Taking up the stack of paper, he tried very hard not to think about that night a few weeks ago. Yet, he couldn't get the vision of Hermione sprawled on the bed, naked and with bright eyes, out of his head. The image of Lucius's perfect mouth and elegant body naked on the same bed, his glorious hair spread out over the pillow, sent a pleasant shiver through Severus's body as well. It was a new and completely unexpected sensation. He wondered what it would mean to explore this.

He remembered the few occasions he had seen Hermione after the war, at Ministry functions and at Draco's wedding. He had always known that she was a bright, very powerful witch, but then he had noticed for the first time how nice and curvaceous her body had become and that, though she wasn't pretty in the conventional sense, she had grown into an extremely attractive woman.

Clearly, Lucius Malfoy had noticed, too. Snape wondered once more what had brought these two together. He knew Hermione had been engaged to Ron Weasley. He had thought it a pity that she should waste herself on him, but had expected them to get married sooner or later.

Obviously, that hadn't happened. But that still didn't explain her and Malfoy, who once had stood for everything she despised, and who wouldn't have as much as looked at her a few years ago. Well, looked at her maybe, as Lucius had always appreciated an attractive woman, regardless of his prejudices against Muggle-borns, but he would have made sure that the look went unnoticed. Contrary to what many people believed of him, Lucius had loved Narcissa very much and been faithful to her. His cruelties were reserved for his enemies and those he deemed unworthy.

Snape put down the stack of paper and reached for his glass. It was no good. Regardless, how much he brooded over it, he couldn't have her because she was involved with the closest thing to a friend he had. How ironic that it had taken that strange night to realise that he indeed did want her.

Snape had always found self-pity a rather useless emotion. Shaking his head, he tried to concentrate on reading again, when a brief flashing of orange light alerted him to the fact that someone had just crossed the first perimeter of wards around his property, those merely set up as a signal for him when someone was approaching the house. He had used stronger wards to secure the cottage itself as there were enough people out there who still would have preferred to see him dead.

He stood up, grabbed his wand, and quickly moved to the door. When someone knocked, he carefully opened it and found himself face to face with Hermione Granger.

"Miss Granger," he said stiffly. "How did you find me?"

"Good evening...Professor McGonagall told me when I couldn't reach you at the castle."

He urgently needed to have a talk with Minerva about the meaning of privacy. An awkward silence stretched between him and Hermione, while the rain was pouring down, and a cold draught was finding its way through the open door into the house.

"Well, as you are here, you might as well come in." Snape invited her reluctantly, but didn't bother to offer her a drink. The sooner she left again the better.

"Thank you." Hermione now stood in his living room, looking around her, her heavy woollen cloak dripping from the rain, her face flushed and her hair dishevelled from the wind. Again, an unbidden memory raced through Snape's mind. He pushed it away quickly and drawled, "Take off that cloak before it ruins my carpet entirely."

"Thank you," Hermione said again and put her cloak over the back of a chair.

Once more, neither seemed to find anything to say.

"So, is there a reason why you are here, Miss Granger, or did you fancy a stroll at the seaside in the beautiful weather?" Severus finally snarled.

"I thought we had got past 'Miss Granger'," Hermione replied, avoiding his question.

"I don't like to repeat myself, and I have better things to do with my evening, so stop prevaricating and tell me why you came."

Hermione was quiet for a while, and just as Snape was about to let her know in no uncertain terms that he didn't want her here, she asked softly, "Why?"

"Why what?" he snapped back, wondering what she was talking about.

"Why wouldn't you kiss me?"

He hadn't expected that particular question. A brief look of surprise crossed his face before he pulled himself together and drawled, "Surely you can figure out such a trivial thing for yourself."

But Hermione was not a student anymore and would not be intimidated. "If it is so trivial, then maybe you could explain it to me."

He was not getting out of this conversation. "Kissing, Miss Granger, is a very intimate act and should be reserved for people who are truly close to each other," he said silkily.

"What!?" She stared incredulously at him. "You could... I mean... you had no problem... and kissing is too intimate for you!?"

"A kiss is not something to be distributed indiscriminately and lightly. Kissing is an art, like music or potion making. It requires passion, skill and dedication. If done properly, its power is remarkable. It can bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses utterly. No two kisses are the same, and a single kiss can leave a lasting and unforgettable impression. It can be an end in itself, glorious, rewarding, and all-consuming, a special and intimate act two people choose to share with each other. But then, I do not expect someone like you to understand the more subtle nuances of human intimacy, Miss Granger," Snape replied.

Hermione had become totally entranced by his speech, his dark voice caressing her like silk, when his last sentence registered. "Someone like me? What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped.

"Are you really so daft that I need to spell it out to you?"

"Please do." Hermione was becoming angrier by the second.

Snape drew a breath, knowing exactly where and how to strike. "Someone who cheats on the man she is engaged to with a Death Eater. Someone who does Malfoy's bidding and gets involved in his ploys."

Hermione stared at him. "Drawing conclusions quickly, are you? Not that it's any of your business, but Ron cheated on me. And I am not doing anyone's bidding. And Lucius is not a Death Eater!" she yelled.

"He was, at any rate. But, of course now, being seen with a Muggle-born fits his image perfectly. How convenient that you just happened to be available." Snape sneered.

"People change. You should know that," Hermione spat back.

He snorted. "Make no mistake, Lucius Malfoy is still a very dangerous man. And you are just a pretty asset to his reformed image." He assessed Hermione's expression and saw that his comment had hit its mark. He continued, "And so he made you play a little game, seduce me."

Hermione shook her head. "No, it was my idea."

"Yours?" Severus glared at her.

Hermione hesitated slightly, and though she was still angry, she made up her mind that in this case the truth might be the best approach. "That night, it was my birthday and the whole thing was to be a kind of present for me. I... I had always wanted a threesome, and I was kind of curious about you."

Snape was livid now. "You were curious about me? You planned this," he roared, "and I was a bloody present?"

All of a sudden he realised he had been there before, playing a game he couldn't win. Lily. Hermione reminded him so much of her. Beautiful, clever, and kind. Hermione was not as kind, she was fiercer and had a different kind of beauty, but she was every bit as alluring. And he couldn't have her, just as he couldn't have Lily who ended up with James Potter. Handsome, popular, wealthy, and a pure-blood with a confidence bordering on arrogance. In short, everything he was not. Just like Lucius Malfoy. It seemed history was about to repeat itself with a vengeance. This time, his rival was also his friend, and the woman in question had seen fit to have a little tryst with him. Snape's attention returned to the present just in time to hear Hermione's next sentence.

"You could have walked away any time. It's not as if we put you under Imperius or tied you to the bed and had our way with you." Despite the fact that they were in the middle of a heated argument, Hermione found that particular idea rather tempting.

"Did it ever occur to you to tell me about your idea?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione had the grace to look sheepish. "Lucius said you would probably say no, if we gave you time to think it through. And that it would be more fun if it was a surprise."

Snape couldn't believe what he was hearing and something snapped. "And when exactly did you become Malfoy's Mudblood whore!" he yelled.

He felt a sudden sharp pain as something hit his cheek. Hermione hadn't even bothered to draw her wand and had slapped him, Muggle-fashion, and Severus Snape found out that a hand could sting a lot more than a hex.

He stood in the middle of his living room, seeing how much damage he had done with his insult, and despite his own hurt and anger, it didn't feel good. And he saw something else for which he didn't require any of his Legilimency skills. "Merlin, you are in love with him," he said softly.

All fury suddenly gone, Hermione wearily raised her head, her eyes glistening with tears. "And what's it to you? What do you care?"

Snape crossed the room and now stood before her. "Hermione, I... "

She shook her head. "Don't... just don't."

He awkwardly raised a hand and pushed a strand of hair back from her face.

At the surprisingly tender gesture, Hermione lifted her head and looked questioningly into his black eyes. "You don't know anything."

"Why don't you tell me then," he suggested, a bit uncertain.

Hermione hesitated a moment before she started, her voice wobbly. "When the war was over, when You-know...when Voldemort was finally gone, things were supposed to get better, you know. But there was just this great empty void inside me. My parents, so many of my friends, they were all dead."

Severus nodded; he knew that too many had died, and that Hermione had lost a lot of people close to her.

Her voice a little steadier she continued. "There didn't seem anything meaningful to do anymore, and there was hardly anyone left. Only Ron, we had always been friends, and it seemed so obvious that we would become a couple. It was nice, at first. I mean, it was never like earth shattering, blinding love or anything. But it was good not to be alone, it was comforting. "

Severus fought back a sudden rush of protectiveness towards her as he became aware of how young she still was, and that she had seen far too much for her age.

Hermione swallowed hard. "And then... then I found out that Ron had been cheating on me for some time with his old girlfriend, Lavender. He... he said he needed someone less... someone warmer, someone who was a real woman, that what I could give him wasn't enough."

Snape found it highly doubtful that the little weasel had used so many words and had a good mind to introduce Ron to an Unforgivable, but he said nothing.

"It was horrible, I felt so alone and there was no one to talk to in the evenings, on weekends. It seemed everybody had a life but me. And then I met Lucius."

Severus wasn't too sure he wanted to hear about that particular part, still he let Hermione continue.

"He makes me feel good, like no one's ever done before, he's kind and intelligent, and he, well, he sort of woke me up, you know."

"I see." He knew exactly in what way Lucius had woken up Hermione, having observed the evidence himself.

"Do you really believe what you said earlier, that he is just using me?" Hermione asked, anxiously searching in his face for an answer he couldn't give her because he simply didn't know. Lucius would do whatever suited his current purpose, yet he was also capable of genuine emotion.

It would have been so easy to lie to her, one way or another, especially for him, but Snape chose not to. He shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. "That's a question only Lucius can answer."

In a gesture meant as comfort and reassurance, he briefly stroked her hair.

Hermione stood motionless, looking at him for a long time. Then she said in a very small voice, "Kiss me? Please."

Despite his better judgement he cupped her cheek in his palm. He stroked his thumb over her lips, and then slid his hand to the back of her head, unhurriedly lowering his lips to hers. He briefly flicked his tongue over her bottom lip, and she willingly opened her mouth to him. Their tongues began a slow and sensual dance. Severus moaned into her mouth and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him, needing to feel her body against his. Hermione kissed him back fervently, her hands dived into his hair, and she melted eagerly against him. Desire raced through Snape as he felt her breasts pressing into his chest, and he ran his hands up and down her back. She responded with a little whimper and deepened the kiss.

They were so engrossed in each other that neither noticed the brief orange flashing of the wards.

"Isn't that an enticing little tableau," a familiar voice drawled.

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A/N: "...bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses" is a paraphrase from Snape's speech (the speech) in Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, p. 150, UK edition.