Allure Beyond the Tower Walls

The Enchanted Tower Room

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Allure Beyond the Tower Walls

~Spring 1997~

She tried to stay away. She tried to stop staring at him. Harry thought she'd finally come around and was beginning to suspect Professor Snape of all the horrid things he accused Severus of. That wasn't the reason at all. She couldn't stop thinking about him. She daydreamed about him in the prefect's bathroom and frequently when she was reading or revising. At meals whenever their eyes met, he turned his head, but she knew he'd been watching her. In class, he avoided direct eye contact as much as possible, but she knew that he watched her every move. He would always stop behind her in class when he walked around the room as they practiced defensive spells. He avoided her between classes, making sure that they did not run into each other in the corridors. However, a few times when she did pass him, he walked so close that his robes brushed against her, and the momentary contact made her catch her breath each time. It was torture.

Hermione was still using the mild Sleeping Draught nightly, but Severus haunted her dreams. She envisioned his body, his lean muscled body leaning over her, his deft fingers and artistic mouth creating sensations in her she doubted anyone else could match. In her dreams, she could almost feel him, sense him, and her desire to return to the tower grew. She was feeling as restless and randy as Lavender Brown. In addition, every morning she struggled against her desire to seek him out, to go to their private room in the tower, using all her will power and determination to stay in bed and study until breakfast. Moreover, in the hours when he had his office hours posted, she purposefully went to the library to read. Still, she sought out the tower in the evenings occasionally, greatly disappointed that Severus wasn't with her. The calm serenity of the room did little to quiet her urges to seek him out.

*

Hermione woke up with a start from a rather vivid dream, gasping. Regardless of how she tried, she couldn't fall back to sleep. She tried reading, but she couldn't concentrate on the words. Restless, antsy, she rolled out of bed, changed her knickers and pulled on her skirt and a light jumper, slipped into her shoes and headed down to the common room. As soon she appeared, Kippy Disapparated, returning seconds later with a large cup of his Pekoe tea. Severus' preferred blend – and now mine, too. Gods, what else do we have in common? I hardly know the man. I know he's brilliant, stoic and brave. I know he risks himself spying on Voldemort. He's clever, strong, capable... but I have no idea of his interests except for the Dark Arts, Potions and... potions. She laughed as she scrambled through the portrait hole and walked down the corridor. I don't know anything about him.

She tried to recall anything and everything about Severus Snape as she walked. All she could come up with was that she respected him, admired him, wished that she knew him better and wished they were friendlier with each other. She stopped suddenly, realizing where she stood. "The door... Please... No, I shouldn't. I promised." She looked around. The castle was silent, peaceful. "Please let me in," she said softly, reaching for the handle and slipping into the room. She slowly circled the room, attentive for the resistance spells, trying to discern what they might be. The urge to leave was there, feelings of self-doubt and denial of her own feelings toward Severus but also doubt in regards of his desire for her. She felt somewhat repulsed by her wantonness and embarrassed to be seeking out the portal. Nevertheless, they were not as strong as the alluring draw she felt to go up the stairs. Could the Bloody Baron have been a stronger wizard than the Grey Lady had been? Is that why her spells aren't as effective? Hermione easily found and pushed her way through the obscured portal.

Once she felt the texture of the sandy stone on her skin, all doubts immediately faded, and she began to crave Severus' touch, his hands on her body, his fingers making her quiver and her heart race. She resisted the urge to run up the stairs, to hurry up and meet him with each step she took. She could almost visualize his dark eyes looking at her lustfully, and her heart started to pound in anticipation as she forced herself to ascend the stairs slowly. When she finally placed her hand on the latch, Hermione knew that if he was in there regardless of how much self-control she usually had, seeing him, one touch of his hand, and she would give into him, completely unrestrained.

The room was empty when she entered. Sighing, Hermione walked over to the window and perched herself on the windowsill, staring out at the dark midnight blue sky. The trees were black, the mountain crest a rugged line on the horizon. She sipped her tea, feeling serene, quiet, and peaceful as she leaned her back against the stone with her shoulder against the glass. Even the dark velvety textures looked beautiful as she gazed at the view. She set her large cup at her feet when she'd finished her tea, noting that the sky was just beginning to lighten slightly.

Hermione sighed heavily when she realized that the predawn colors had faded and he hadn't come. A sense of disappointment and emptiness hit her, and she picked up her cup to leave. She glanced up at the arch above the door and noticed that the stone was smooth. The words – the writing – it's not there. She turned to scan the room, contemplating the reason why. Severus showed me the words the first time we were here together, and they were there the second time, I know it. He pointed it out to me just before he kissed me. Her fingers automatically rose to touch her lips, and she closed her eyes as she remembered his first two kisses. Oh, Merlin, he can kiss, she thought, releasing her breath slowly. So passionate – demanding, yes, I'd have guessed that of him – but not the skill he has at making me so weak in the knees or my head spin. Who would have thought he could do that? She reached for the latch and was surprised when the door opened easily. Is it because I'm alone? she wondered as she scurried down the stairs and left the tower.

She was just about to ascend the stairs to go up to her common room when Professor Snape came walking down. Hermione stood frozen on the first step, watching his robes billow, framing his lean body in his black frock coat and trousers. Her breathing became deeper the closer he walked until he was literally standing on the step above her. He looked over her shoulder, and a fiercely dark look flashed on his face. "You were in the tower, weren't you, Miss Granger?"

Hermione was caught off guard by his rough manner. "Yes, sir, I was. I thought, well... I had the urge to go there..."

"Regardless of the consequences? Have you no self-control?" he asked waspishly.

"I don't know? I felt like it." Hermione backed up, her step faltered, and she fell, crying out in pain as her bum landed on the floor. Her ankle was throbbing as she tried to move her legs, and she cried out in pain when she touched her right heel to the floor.

Snape was kneeling in front of her in seconds, reaching for her ankle. His eyes darted up her leg, freezing for a second, then shot up to her face, and Hermione suddenly realized her skirt had ridden up her legs because of the position in which she'd landed. She blushed, knowing that he must have seen her green lace knickers and tried, unsuccessfully, to tug her skirt down.

"Relax, I just want to evaluate your ankle," he said a bit curtly. He removed her shoe, slipped off her sock and gently began to palpate her ankle, turning her foot carefully from side to side, up and down, then around. His fingers, however painful his gentle probing was, sent shivers down her leg. His eyes kept darting up to her face as he evaluated her reactions, momentarily flicking occasionally where she was holding the hem of her skirt between her legs.

She couldn't take her eyes off him, either staring at his face and his dark eyes or at his hands, secretly wishing they would slip and move higher up her leg. She bit her lip, thankful he couldn't read her mind.

With what seemed to be a simple flick of his wand, the pain lessened somewhat. "It's only a sprain," he said as he aimed his wand again and uttered healing charm. When he was done, he finally looked up at her with concern. "Try and stand," he said, extending his hand and helping her rise. She stood on her good foot, trying to keep as much pressure off her injured one as much as possible. "Can you walk?"

"I think so," she replied taking a tentative step. It hurt and she nearly stumbled again.

Snape reacted quickly, grabbing her arms to keep her from falling and helped ease her back to the floor. "This may hurt a bit," he said as he conjured a support for her ankle. He took her hands and helped her to her feet again. With an easiness that surprised her, he lifted her into his arms and carried her up the steps. "So, please explain to me why in Merlin's name did you disobey my request and return to the room?" he asked. "Why would you risk going there when you knew that I'd force myself on you?"

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her and laid her head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent. "Because I wanted to," she said, realizing that every time he asked the same question she found it impossibly hard to explain. "I just wanted to... It's the spells isn't it – I keep returning because I'm now cursed."

"Shite." He looked down at her, turned, kicked open a door, and carried her inside an old, unused office. He set her down on one of the chairs and Summoned the other chair from behind the desk and sat. "Yes, it is. I had hoped that since you haven't been going up to the room as long as I have that it would have been easier for you to resist. But I see it in your eyes. You can't, can you?"

She shook her head and he lowered his. "I'm getting nowhere with these spells, and I cannot stress the importance of keeping our distance." He looked at her foot and grimaced. "You'll need ice for that and will need to stay off it for a day. I'll have your friends come to get you," he said abruptly and rose.

"You're going to leave me here?" she asked, offended by his actions.

Snape leaned down, his hands landing on the armrests of her chair, his face merely inches from hers. He opened his mouth to respond and then kissed her. Her arms encircled his neck, and he pulled her from the chair, his tongue thrusting into her mouth as he deepened the kiss. Her mind swirled, and her knees weakened as she clung to him, desperately eager for him.

Suddenly, he pushed her away from him, setting her roughly back into the chair. His breathing was as ragged as hers, his dark eyes staring at her with lust, and he turned his head, the tic in his cheek indicating that he was clenching his jaws. He walked away saying, "Yes, Miss Granger, I have to. I'll send your friends down to assist you."

~Spring 1977~

"But why do you associate with them?" Lily asked, standing with her back to him, looking over the grounds, her hands rubbing her arms as he approached. She turned around, looking up at him, her green eyes still reflecting the hurt and embarrassment from Mulciber's Antlers Hex and Rosier's Hooves Jinx.

It hadn't taken Lupin and Black very long to reverse the spells, but Lily's favoring her right foot, so it must still bother her. Instead of going to the library as her note had said she would after class, she'd taken the west corridor on the fourth floor and had gone up to the west battlements. Probably to think – or fume over it most likely, he'd supposed.

Severus had followed her, sealing off the stairs that led up to the battlements with a Repelling Charm interwoven with a Forgetfulness Curse before he'd continued after her. At least we will be alone for a while, until someone or a teacher happens to figure out the spells, he'd thought to himself as he ran up the stairs. He saw the humiliation and hurt in her eyes when she'd turned to look at him, and swore softly to himself, Shite. "They're in my house, Lily. I have to get along with them," he replied. "Besides your Patronus is a doe. He was teasing you..."

"About my blood! My heritage! He and Avery and Rosier and that tart Cherine and – her – her friend..." Lily stammered angrily. "They hate me! And for nothing. For no good reason – they just hate me."

"They don't' hate you, they don't really know you," he said, trying to console her. "Okay, they don't try to know you... but that's not my fault, and I can't change their opinions."

"Do you even try?" she exclaimed, raising her voice at him. "Sev, you never stand up to them. You just stand there and scowl – at me?"

Scowling at her? If I was scowling, it was at Black. "I was watching Black to see what he'd do, Lily. He was standing right behind to you," Severus tried to explain. "For all I know he and Potter were going to retaliate."

"They didn't," she snapped, obviously still hurt.

"Only because Professor Bullmier saw what Avery and Rosier did and put them in detention." Severus scuffed his shoe on the rough stones. Damn Black.

Lily swept her hand in the direction of the stairs. "Sev, they are awful, and they have so much animosity towards me, Deborah, and Leanne – not to mention anyone else in my house – regardless of their heritage."

"And your lot's any better towards Slytherin?" he asked, annoyed.

"You could try and get along better," she retorted.

Yeah, right! Get along with the Gryffindor four. "Pettigrew is such a wet weed, and Black is nothing more than a bit of a lad and thinks he's so posh. And Potter – don't get me started on Potter," Severus replied defensively. "And what's up with Lupin? Why is he sick the day after every full moon? Or haven't you tried tracking his monthly recurrences. It's always on the day of a full moon, Lily." He hated this argument, but there was no stopping it now.

"Don't – don't you dare. It's not the same! They don't hate you simply because of your birth!" Lily admonished him.

"No, they hate me because of – let me count: my name, skin tone, my hair, my eye color, my nose, my house, my intelligence, my skill at Potions, my knowledge of hexes, curses and jinxes, and my clothes... I could go on. You're the only one in your house that's nice!" he snarled.

"That's not true and you know it," she said defensively.

"Name one Gryffindor that doesn't hate me just for being in Slytherin? Or one that doesn't hate me because I know Dark Arts?" he asked. "You can't can you?"

"Deborah doesn't hate you," she replied beseechingly.

"Yeah, then why does she run away whenever I approach you two or cower from me and slip away if I come anywhere near her in the corridors or library?" he asked, crossing his arms. "She's afraid of me, and I've never done anything to her. The last time all I wanted to do was to return the rubber she'd dropped, but she ran away from me. I'd have done better if I'd simply thrown it at her."

Lily tilted her head. "Wasn't Avery with you then?"

"No, Lily, he wasn't. He was several paces ahead and walking back to our common room. I saw her drop the rubber as she left class after Avery and Rosier had left the classroom. They were in front of her – I was behind," he explained, frustrated. "Still she reacted as if I was going to curse her."

"Sev, she misunderstood," Lily said, defending her friend.

"Yeah. 'Hey, you dropped this' is really easy to misunderstand," he said sarcastically. "Lily, I'm sorry, really I am." He placed a hand on her arm, looking at her, hoping that this time she'd understand. "It's hard enough having to be on guard from Potter, Black and groupies. I just can't make enemies in my own house, too. I wouldn't be able to eat, sleep or revise in peace. I can't watch my back round the clock. Besides, aren't you always saying how thin I am?" He lowered his head so they were eye level. "If I ostracized my own housemates, I'd waste away from lack of food and sleep. Or be living in the hospital wing." He pulled her to him in a hug. "Besides, Black had you all right again before I could do it. Please, believe me, if I was scowling, it was at him, not you. I wanted to be the one to change you back. Although, you were really cute with antlers and hooves."

"Oh... you..." she uttered, giving a halfhearted pat on his back. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Whatever you like," he replied, tipping her face up so he could kiss her.

~Spring 1997~

Hermione had left Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and as usual, she'd headed for the library. She'd been angry with Snape for giving the class an essay on the Extermination Spells simply because she'd quoted Magical Creatures Great and Small when she'd named the three primary creatures the spell was intended for. He'd made it even harder for her to concentrate on the spell, Erronious Exterminae, used to primarily to defend against Acromantula, and large shelled creatures like Seacumtula, the highland Entomonida, by standing right in front of her desk when he'd allowed her to answer the question. It'd taken all her concentration to not ogle him in class and keep her eyes on his face, instead of roaming her gaze on his body. And he'd done that on purpose! She knew that she'd answered his question correctly, but he'd waspishly given them an essay, warning her as she'd passed by him as she was leaving the classroom, not to plagiarize any of the books that explained the spell or she'd get a detention.

It had been a rough day in Snape's class anyway with Ron and Harry going on about Draco and his supposed plans to destroy the school. Rubbish! She knew he was a bully, but a Death Eater, come on. But she was not going to go traipsing by the Room of Requirement simply on the off chance Draco was using the room.

She had just topped the stairs onto the fourth floor when she saw Neville cornered by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Neville, his arms full of books and parchments, was unable to brandish his wand in defense. Hermione'd fired off a quick Expelliarmus and a Stunning Spell to protect her friend, which, unfortunately, had been seen by Snape.

Hermione entered the dungeons following dinner with a false sense of bravado. She knew that few students, other than the Slytherins would be roaming the corridors down here, but after her attack on Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, it was better to be safe and walk confidently and quickly than make oneself an easy target. She was glad when she reached the door to his office to serve her detention with Professor Snape unnoticed. She had no idea how Snape would react if she were late due to being hexed, cursed or jinxed, and she didn't want to find out either.

As before, the door opened the moment she raised her hand up to knock. "It's open, Miss Granger, come in," he called out. Hermione briefly wondered how he was so sure it was her and not a Slytherin seeking him during his office hours. Yeah, right! What could possibly be so traumatic or urgent that a student would seek him out for advice? Can you imagine having to ask him for anything personal? Slytherins must be pretty self-reliant, she thought as she entered the room and stood by his desk.

The small cauldron, a steaming teapot and a vial all sat on his desk with two teacups. "Sit." He set his quill down, ladled some of the Mind-Clarity Potion into the teacup, and pushed it over to her. "Drink, please."

Suppressing a smile, Hermione drank the beverage. The silvery liquid had hardly any taste at all. She watched him as he continued to grade papers, her eyes focused on the manner in which he held his quill.

"When you are finished, I want you to drink the Calming Ascetic. And please, stop staring at my hand," he said, dipping his quill in his inkwell, not bothering to look up at her.

Hermione finished the cup and poured herself some tea. "How many drops, sir?" she asked.

"Three should be enough," he replied, looking at her without raising his head, "if I'm guessing your weight accurately."

Well, he should know, she assumed as she added the clear drops to her tea. Once finished, she sat back and waited, noticing that he was biting on one side of his bottom lip as he wrote, making his soft lip pucker ever so slightly...

"Miss Granger, you're staring at me," he snapped, and her eyes locked with his expectantly. "Now, can you please tell me why you Stunned Mr. Goyle and knocked Mr. Malfoy across the corridor today?"

"Yes, sir," she said, trying to keep from getting lost in his dark eyes. "They were going to cast a curse or something on Neville. Neville had just looked up at Goyle and Malfoy. Malfoy was still laughing at him – it's possible that Goyle may have caused Neville to drop his things in the first place – but that's speculation because it looked like Neville had just finished collecting his things off the floor. I could tell because he had them all jumbled in his arms, and was still straightening up, when Goyle began to swish his wand and Malfoy pulled his wand out of his pocket. Neville didn't have his wand out or anything; it was still in his left pocket, grip down... Anyway, I simply reacted to protect a friend from unfriendly fire, sir." Well, at least the Mind-Clarity Potion is working.

Snape sat back and crossed his arms, his eyes darting from her face to her chest and back, twice as he considered her explanation. "Reasonable... But still no excuse to attack students in the school corridors," he said and held up his hand to stop her from interrupting him, "even if you are correct and they were about to attack Mr. Longbottom without provocation. I assume that as a sixth year you are capable of correcting first years' papers?"

Hermione looked up at him, gobsmacked. "Yes, sir, I could..."

"Fine. Just the corrections, Miss Granger, I will grade them," he said, sliding a stack of parchments to her and handing her a quill.

The detention wasn't too bad. However, every now and again, she'd peek up at Severus, watching him slyly and return to her grading. Several times she'd catch his gaze, and her cheeks warmed each time. "Do you find me particularly fascinating, Miss Granger, or is it my dashing good looks?" he asked sarcastically.

"I don't – well, yes, I do find you interesting – in a rather appealing way, and you're not an unattractive guy, Professor," she replied truthfully. "I think you have an appealing look..." Bugger, did he give me Veritaserum, too? I can't lie to him...

"Ridiculous," he snapped.

"No! Really, I don't! I mean – I do!" she exclaimed. "If you'd pull your hair back more, maybe wash it occasionally – you'd be rather nice looking..."

"I was being..."

"That's another thing," she continued, undaunted. "I like your face. You've incredible eyes and your lips... If you smiled occasionally, maybe stop scowling so much – you're an attractive bloke when you smile, and you carry yourself well, you look good in your clothes..." And out of them... "It's just you simply push people away."

"If you're finished with my physical assessment," he said sharply. He sat back looking at her, his eyes roaming her unabashedly. After a while, he bent back over his papers. "You may go, Miss Granger."

"I'd like to finish. I'm more than half way through," she started to say as he looked up at her, his eyes staring at her questioningly. "If it's all right with you, that is."

"Why would you choose to stay?" he asked, dipping his quill in the red ink.

"I'm finding your company to be... comfortable; you intrigue me. I – I'm enjoying being here with you," she stammered.

"Infatuation, curiosity or respect," he sneered, his eyes studying her. "Do you expect me to believe that you like being here with me in my office?" he asked with a sweep of his hand. She was just about to answer him when he cut her off. "Why? What possible reason have I ever given you to like me?"

Her mouth closed, and she stared at him as if confounded.

"Yes, I see, very well articulated. You don't know me. I know you far better than you know me, and I can't see this ..." he faltered. "I cannot have you involved with me at this time."

"Sir, what if I wanted to be? I mean, what if I wanted to get to know you?" she asked, but he shook his head.

"You may finish the papers, Miss Granger. After that, you are to go."

Hermione picked up the quill and continued checking over the essays. Nevertheless, every few seconds, and every time she dipped her quill, her eyes strayed over to him, occasionally catching his gaze for a brief few seconds. When she was nearly done with her pile, he stood and walked over to her chair. "Come on, get up," he said as if annoyed. "I cannot concentrate with you staring at me, and the potions are wearing off. Time for you to go," he said as she rose to leave. He escorted her to the door, his hand on the small of her back; however, once there he waited, his hand on the latch. "Come again tomorrow. You can finish then," he said, opening the door.

She looked at him, but his expression was unreadable to her. "Same time then?"

"No. Yes, all right, come here in the morning instead of the tower," he said, opening the door. "It would be preferable."

~ T B C ~>

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Author's Note:

I owe a huge thank you to my beta, Southern_Witch_69, her for all her help and support. Thanks to her infinite patience with me, I actually have something readable for you.