Ensnaring The Senses

Disclaimer: This story's universe and characters were created by J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from it, and no copyright infringement is intended.

The following Monday, Snape was seated in his office, his mind contemplating his mentorship of Miss Granger. The girl had just left his office after the meeting they had that afternoon.

Snape had arranged to meet with Miss Granger every Monday and Thursday for the duration of the summer. In the meeting that day, Snape had outlined a design for her training. She would demonstrate her knowledge of each potion taught at each year level. She would know what the potion was used for, why each ingredient was used, what its effects were, and how to spot where students went wrong when making them.

Most of this would be a review for Miss Granger as she was admittedly brilliant enough to remember the slightest details, even from the potions she had studied way back in her first and second years. It would not take long for the review, and after that, he would set her to the task of helping him make the medicinal potions that Poppy often needed for students injured or ill in the hospital wing.

Snape sneered at the thought of how little appreciation potions usually received when they were so useful and always needed. There had always been vast amounts of demands on him as the Potions master. It had never seemed to ease up, even when Slughorn instructed the Potions classes for two years. If Miss Granger were to successfully take on the role of the Potions professor, she would need to be more than capable of handling the seemingly continuous need for her to make potions for others.

Although the Potions apprentice would have a lot of work to do already, Snape would also be teaching her how to make brews so complicated that even your average wizard with a N.E.W.T. in Potions dare not attempt them. She must learn to be diligent and disciplined with her skills, and the constant brewing of difficult potions would aid the process. All this work would be sufficient enough for her to serve as an adequate Potions professor, yet Snape had decided to teach her even more...

Sure, Miss Granger had always annoyed him with her need to draw attention in class to the fact that she knew everything. Intellect was a virtue no doubt, one that had been his crux during the years he spent as a spy. It had been her need to make a show of it that had irritated the hell out of him. It reminded him of bloody arrogant James Potter and his friends who flaunted their intellect and skills around the block. Yes, Severus Snape despised arrogance.

However, Miss Granger had astonishingly surprised him. Her intellect was incontestable, he had to admit. She was not the top of her class every year for nothing. Yet, she did not seem as eager these last couple years to make an ostentatious show of it all. Her intellect was real, primal, delectable. He savored such purity of mind in another person. And so, each Thursday lesson would be used to teach Miss Granger to use her knowledge as a base on which to build and develop the skill to improve and create potions on her own. She had desired to expand her knowledge beyond what was required, and so Snape would show her his art.

Snape kicked back and leaned his chair on its back legs, his hands behind his head. If the bookworm could free herself from her need of "how-to's," and she could betray her loyalty to the standard instructions, she had the potential to become a master of the art herself. He had not intended to go so far with his apprentice, but after learning of Miss Granger's strong appreciation for the subject, he was anxious to see if she could turn that passion into masterful skill. Truthfully, he did not think the girl had the capabilities of closing her inquisitive mind to the "rules" and opening it to intuition and insight. However, he was determined to at least allow her to try.

It was Wednesday evening and the day of Harry's eighteenth birthday. There would be a party at the Burrow with all of the Weasleys, most of the Order, and some of their old school friends in attendance. Hermione was excited for the celebration and was looking forward to a fun time with all her friends. There was, however, one person she was not looking forward to seeing... Hermione sighed, resolute in the decision she had made, and Apparated outside the front door of the Burrow.

The party was in full swing, and Harry was quite jubilant. Hermione could not help but grin too when she saw how Harry's smile reached his eyes and heard his laughter as he talked to each of the guests. He had not had the chance to have birthday parties growing up, and the only one he did have had been marred by wretched news of Voldemort's gruesome doings in the wizarding world.

Bill and Fleur, having just celebrated their first wedding anniversary, were off in a dark corner, sneaking lingering kisses whenever they thought no one was paying any attention to them. And Hermione tried not to. Ginny and Hermione still secretly called Fleur Phlegm because she was just as snotty and self-assured as she ever was. Thankfully, they only saw Bill and Fleur at get-togethers like this. The newlyweds both worked long hours at Gringotts, and they shared a flat down in London.

Remus and Tonks were sitting together on a divan in another corner of the room, holding hands and laughing, while their son, Teddy, a Metamorphmagus like Tonks, changed his hair color from pink to black to green and back to pink again. Hermione smiled. She really felt very happy for the couple. Each of them deserved to have the chance to be in love and have peace in life. Gods know that Remus Lupin was the only one of his Marauder friends to get that chance!

Tonks had nearly died during the confrontation with Voldemort. She had spent two months in St. Mungo's recovering from the combined hexes of two different Death Eaters. Tonks was no longer considered a novice Auror and was one of the Aurors leading Harry and Ron's training.

Remus Lupin headed a new office at the Ministry. Working hard to establish positive relations between wizards and werewolves, he fought the legislation that prevented werewolves from being allowed to work in whatever fields they were otherwise qualified to work in. Remus had some success already, having started a society: AWWERE...Association for Werewolf and Wizard Essential Relations of Equality.

Molly was busying about, frantically attempting to get enough plates and silverware together for everyone. Arthur was helping her by taking the food out to the large table outside where everyone would be eating dinner.

Neville and Luna had come to the party as well. From the occasional glances they stole at each other when the other was not looking, Hermione wondered if they might become a couple soon. She would ask Luna about it if she got the chance to talk to her later.

Two other couples were in attendance at the party. The guest of honor himself had his arm locked around Ginny's shoulder, a wide grin on both of their faces. They had been back together since the original celebration of Voldemort's defeat. Hermione was quite delighted with her friends' romance. At least they were proof that there was true love in this world.

The last couple in the room was not so happy together. Well, the happiness was only one-sided anyway. The unhappy person wanted to end their status as a couple. She didn't love him.

Hermione felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist from behind. She looked down to see the freckle-covered arms and cringed as a voice in her ear said, "Hey, 'Mione!"

Ron noticed Hermione's withdraw from his embrace and turned her around to look at him. "What's the matter? Are you okay?"

Hermione sighed. "Listen, Ron. I need to talk to you. Will you come take a walk with me?"

Ron's expression of concern changed to one of uncertainty and curiosity. "Er, sure. Let's go around the garden."

As they walked, Hermione remained silent, wringing her hands as she prepared to speak. Ron's apprehension became more and more apparent as her reluctance to speak continued, but he waited for her to say whatever it was she had on her mind. Obviously thinking she must be upset and in need of comforting, he reached out and put his arm around her shoulder.

Hermione stopped short and spun around so that Ron's arm was no longer around her. "I'm sorry, Ron, but I don't think we should be together anymore." There, it was out.

From the look on his face, she knew that he had not expected this. "What? Why?" He stepped closer to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "You can't be serious, Hermione?"

She nodded, finding that her voice was unable to rise to its normal pitch. "I am."

Ron growled, the hurt and anger evident in his eyes. Hermione felt tears welling up in her own eyes. She didn't want to hurt Ron, but she knew she needed to do this. She said, "Ron, I really am sorry. I just don't feel that this is right for us..."

Hermione had not finished explaining, but Ron cut in, "I can't believe this, Hermione! Haven't you been pining after me since our fourth year? Finally, you have me and you want to just let it go like I don't even matter to you after all?" His breathing was heavy, and he let go of Hermione's shoulders and clenched his fists at his sides.

Hermione was tempted to point out that it was Ron who had done all the pining, but instead she said, "Ron, of course you matter to me. You are one of my best friends. I..."

"Friends?" The word was a whisper.

Hermione rushed on, not wanting Ron to keep interrupting her, "Yes, Ron. I love you as my friend, my very best, and I think we made a terrible mistake getting together. I didn't know it before we tried it, but now I know that we are not meant to be together. I know you are upset, Ron, and I hope that you can forgive me for this."

Ron glared at her and took a deep breath. His eyes still angry, his voice low and deep, he said, "I don't know, Hermione. You're asking an awful lot, considering I thought that for the past several months we were perfectly happy together. Not two weeks ago you were snogging me to high heaven! Can't you see how I feel about you? What changed?"

Hermione was silent for a few moments. She reached out to touch Ron's arm in comfort, but he pulled it back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why?"

"I wish this didn't have to be so uncomfortable. Please try to understand. It's what's best for us," Hermione finally said.

"Bloody Hell, Hermione! That's it?" He glared. "That's all I get?"

Hermione stood up tall and looked Ron in the eyes, willing him to see the truth of her words. "I really did not want to hurt you, Ron. It's hard to explain why, but I just don't see you in a romantic way anymore."

Ron gave her one last scowl and turned away, walking quickly back to the door and slamming it behind him as he went inside. Hermione stood out by the garden and cried silently for a few minutes. She really could not express why her feelings for Ron had changed exactly. She just knew that lately she could not stand his caresses and touches, and she felt no spark whatsoever when kissing him. She missed him as her friend.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione went back inside, determined to keep her demeanor happy for Harry's sake. Ron had glared at her often throughout the dinner and the cake eating, but most everyone was too involved in the celebrations to notice.

After cake, the celebrations continued for quite awhile longer. Firewhisky was making its rounds, introducing itself to all the guests, and meeting with Ron on more than one occasion. During this time, Ginny came over to Hermione and gestured for her to follow her to her room. Hermione obliged, and when Ginny had shut her door behind them, she whirled around to face Hermione with a hurt look on her face.

"Hermione, how could you do this to Ron? I can't believe you broke up with him! What were you thinking?" Her voice was hard and accusing.

"I was thinking about how this kind of relationship isn't good for us, and now I am thinking how perfectly anticipated it is that you have so candidly taken his side." Shouldn't Ginny have given her the benefit of the doubt as her friend? Listen first, yell later?

It was amazing how icy the voice of a person fuming with anger could be. "I am your friend, Hermione, but I am not going to take kindly to you hurting my brother. I saw the looks he was giving you at dinner. You hurt him deeply, Hermione. You should have broken things off from the get-go if you realized you didn't have romantic feelings for him. How does it take you several months to realize your feelings are wrong? Just last month you told me you loved him! What is wrong with you?"

Hermione looked away and started walking to the door. She was not in the mood to hear any of what Ginny had to say. But, the first step made everything too real. She was losing too much. Hermione stopped and turned and said, "Ginny, I'm sorry. I'm not sure why my feelings changed, but they have. Perhaps I wanted to believe they were there and tried it for too long. This may have cost me Ron's friendship. I don't want to lose yours too!"

Ginny ignored Hermione's pleading look. "Whatever, Hermione. I need to go back downstairs before Harry misses me. You see, I actually care about my boyfriend, and I would never do anything to hurt him."

She sauntered out of the room, walking right past Hermione who was standing still, aghast at her friend's cruelty. Losing two friends was two too many, and she did not want to stick around any longer in case Harry caught on to what was going on. She did not know if he would be mad at her too, but she knew he would be mad if she stayed and her drama ruined his party. Hermione walked quietly downstairs and made her way to the Apparition point outside.

She was home in an instant, and she collapsed upon her bed, weary with emotional drain and tears shed. After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, she realized she would never get to sleep if she could not take her mind off of Ron. She needed to be well-rested for her Potions lesson the next day. Snape had promised to show her how potion-making was an art and how he worked to enhance his potions. It felt like having the lucky chance to unveil carefully cloaked, treasured secrets.

Hermione kicked her feet out of the sheets and rolled herself over onto her stomach, burying her face in the crook of her arm and hiding the smile there. Having such an intelligent, ingenious mentor? She could not wait for her lesson. It was a strange feeling. Even though Snape's name was cleared and she felt she had the freedom to really respect him, it still felt a little strange to enjoy being in his presence because of how often he had been cold and cruel to her in the past.

He might still be cold and cruel, but she had seen snippets of another side of him. A side that could possibly enjoy himself, could laugh, could feel passion...as those who were truly alive always did. She admitted to herself that she was curious about who he was inside. Thoughts of Severus Snape still on her mind, Hermione finally drifted off to sleep.

Hermione arrived on time for her lesson with Professor Snape. He noticed the dark rings under her eyes and the tension she carried in her shoulders. Hermione had not slept well the night before. Then, Harry had sent her a Howler that had her in tears all morning. She had been miserable all day thinking about how the three people she loved most were all angry with her.

Hermione knew that Ginny had probably fancied becoming sisters-in-law one day. She knew that Harry had fancied the happy notion of himself with Ginny and Ron with Hermione. Bloody Perfection. Harry clung to everything that made him happy, and Hermione knew he could get very upset if anything changed the sources of happiness he relied on to get by. Still, she wished they would understand. Ron had a right to be angry with her, but not Harry and Ginny too.

Hermione looked bad enough that Snape sourly remarked that she was nowhere fit enough to be able to handle the work for that day and that he was wrong to assume she could take it on.

Hermione was incensed. After all she had been through in the last day, she needed this! Frankly, this lesson was the only thing keeping her from shaking, crying, and pulling out chunks of her still fairly bushy hair. Hermione rounded on Snape, glaring at him, and said, "Sir, you already agreed you would give me these lessons, and you cannot go back on that now without even letting me have a go at it! I did have a restless night, yes, but I guarantee you, sir, that it shall not impact the energy and effort I will put into this work."

Snape snorted and said, "Do not disappoint me, Miss Granger. Come..." He led her through a door at the back of the Potions office that was to be hers, which led to the Potions lab. There was a workspace cleared with a cauldron, a set of brass scales, and the necessary ingredients set on the side. There was one chair, and Snape gestured for Hermione to sit in it.

"Miss Granger, can you guess at which potion you will be making?"

Hermione took note of the ingredients, including roots already chopped and beans already squashed...their juice contained in a decanter next to them. "Yes, sir! These are all the ingredients needed to produce the Draught of Living Death!" Her excitement faltered, and she said, "But, sir, I already know this potion. We made it in N.E.W.T.s with Professor Slughorn."

Snape sneered at her. "Miss Granger, I am fully aware of that fact. Now, if it pleases you, I will explain to you what you are going to do."

"Certainly. Please continue."

"Now, you are going to attempt to forget the instructions for this potion, which may be an impossibility as they are undoubtedly forever scribed in your mind," he said, and his mouth twitched. "You are going to attempt to find a way to make this potion better using your intuition. The best way to begin is to make sure you are completely relaxed...

"Now, I want you to close your eyes and take slow, deep breaths," he continued, his voice growing soft. "I want you to gently tighten the muscles in your feet. Tighten them only for a moment, and then allow them relax."

Hermione had her eyes closed, and she let his soft voice overcome her. She let him guide her as he had her relax each body part, one by one, from her feet up to the back of her head. His voice was velvety, and she felt like it was caressing each part of her body as she let all the tension out. She was floating....

"Continue to breathe slowly and deeply. Start making the potion and let your senses experience everything you do. Watch how each ingredient changes the color and consistency of the potion. Listen to the crackling of the fire as you light it underneath the cauldron. Listen as the potion bubbles and boils. Breathe slowly. Let the fragrances and fumes consume you. Breathe them in. They are strong enough to taste...."

Hermione was slowly stirring the potion counter-clockwise, feeling the weight of it against the spoon that swept through it. Bewitching the mind. Ensnaring the senses. The aromas from the sopophorous beans and the earthy roots intoxicated her. The almost pale pink potion swirled around the spoon as if in a dance. Suddenly, she felt a hand close around hers. Snape had come up behind her, his right hand covering hers as she stirred, and his left hand pressed gently against her lower back. She gasped as she felt a surge of strong heat flow through her body. She was tingling, and the rush led her even further into her altered state of mind.

Snape's voice was whispering into her ear. "Feel it, Miss Granger. Stir slowly, just like that. Feel what the potion wants. What does it require?"

Snape kept his hand upon hers, but he did not move it. Hermione continued to stir the potion, when suddenly the potion seemed to want to be pushed the other way. Impulsively, she stirred it once clockwise. The soft pink potion started to become clear, shimmering with an opalescent glitter. She gasped.

"Very good, Miss Granger," Snape said smoothly into her ear. He released her hand and stood up straight, but Hermione could still feel his warmth flowing through her.

Flushed, Hermione turned to look at Snape and said, "This potion... it is nearly unheard of for it to progress beyond a pale, but still opaque, pink! This became clear so quickly and easily, and it is shimmering! The opalescent gleam could only mean that it has a refined purity to it that would pretty much negate any of the potion's potential defects...like leaving the drinker immune to a restorative draught!"

Severus Snape gave her the tiniest of smiles and nodded his head, "Very good indeed. Very well then, your apprenticeship shall include more lessons like this one, starting next Thursday. There is more, and you will want to understand the principles, I am sure. On Monday , we will continue reviewing the classroom potions. Afterwards, I will have you begin assisting me with that Ministry project I mentioned last week."

Hermione was flushed with excitement. She felt she had been very successful in this endeavor, and for the first time, Professor Snape actually seemed pleased with her work. She stammered over her words as she said, "Oh, I...er, I look... I am looking forward to it." Then, more as an afterthought, she added, "Sir."

"Have a biscuit," he said, offering a tin full of them. "I find it helpful to eat something after working with a potion this way. Otherwise, you may soon start to feel as if you were that spoon you stirred with and as if the potion is surrounding you, pushing and pulling against you, leaving you disoriented. You need to bring yourself back from that connection."

She took the biscuit gratefully, her mind latching onto the words "pushing and pulling." The potion had felt like ocean tides, ebbing and flowing. She had indeed felt the pushing and the pulling within herself. Finally, the push had become forceful, and she had moved the spoon the other direction. Push and pull. Ebb and flow. Need and release. There was an erotic feeling to it, almost a spiritual quality. Hermione looked over at the dark-haired man who was busying himself by removing the contents of the cauldron and bottling them. Hermione swallowed the last of her biscuit, took a deep breath, and said, "Thank you very much for my lesson today, Professor. I look forward to Monday. Good evening."

Turning from the shelf where he had just delicately placed the bottle filled with perfect Draught of Living Death, he nodded and said, "Monday then, Miss Granger."

She exited quickly. Just outside the castle doors, she paused, panting slightly. She still felt jittery and flustered. It must be the aftereffects of the potion-making. I should have had another biscuit.

Hermione sat down on the steps for a few minutes, breathing in the light of the warm, summer sun, before making her way past the gates and Apparating home.

A/N: Thank you for reading. Muchos kudos to my beta, Moon Revel!