21- The Play and Dessert

Standard disclaimer goes here.

Author's Note: I hope all you folks out there who are desperately yearning for lemons can make do with this chapter, even though the real lemons are ever-elusive. LOL!!

Chapter 21- The Play and Dessert

When Snape and Hermione Apparated to the theatre, they appeared very close to a throng of people milling about out front. It was only through Snape's quick reflexes that they didn't bump into anyone while invisible and cause confusion. Snape had his wand in his right hand, and his left hand was entwined with Hermione's right. As soon as they arrived, he noticed that a couple was about to run into them and hastily yanked Hermione toward him and backwards. Hermione, taken unawares by the abrupt tug, flailed wildly, teetering on her heels, and fell against Snape, who promptly wrapped his arms around her to keep her upright. Thus it was that Hermione was pressed hard against Snape's chest and his arms were wrapped around her, his hands splayed across her chest and belly. Somehow, both managed to keep quiet.

As soon as she felt steady on her feet again, Hermione clapped her hands over Snape's, feeling the quivering in her stomach at the feel of his strong hands very near her breasts. Snape tried at once to pull away, but Hermione held on firmly, tilting her head back and hissing, "Over there. We have to get to those shadows to become visible again. Are you ready?"

Snape nodded, then realized that she couldn't see him and quietly grunted an affirmative, once again trying to regain possession of his hands. Hermione wrapped her fingers around his hands and sighed as she let them drop to her sides, pulling him behind her as she wended her way to the shadows. Once there, she quickly spun around and slid her hands along Snape's arms and over his chest, slipping her fingers up to his neck. Snape stiffened in surprise at her touch and backed away, only to find himself up against a wall. He cursed the fact that she was invisible, because he couldn't get a read on what she might do, but a part of him revelled in the heightened sensations caused by the lack of seeing her. His body responded to the forbidden excitement and allure of being so anonymous while with Hermione.

Hermione felt Snape's reluctance in his posture, but she pressed the issue, delighting in the daring impulse. She anchored one hand against the back of his neck and lightly walked her other fingers over his jaw line to his lips, which thinned and trembled under her touch. With a throaty giggle, she pulled Snape's resisting head down to her and kissed him full on the lips, pressing her body against his.

Snape's mind was reeling. He was being thoroughly kissed by someone he couldn't even see, and no one could see how much he was enjoying it either! A low groan emerged from his throat as he gave in and began kissing Hermione back. He felt a tightening in his loins at her faint moan of delight. After a few moments of passionate snogging, Snape fought to regain his senses and pulled back resolutely.

Gasping, he said, "Hermione, we have to stop. It's time to get our seats for the play. And we have to control ourselves! We cannot allow anything to show in our memories in the Pensieve! Now, I must reverse the concealment charm. Are you ready?"

Hermione voiced an inarticulate noise of impatience and annoyance. Sighing deeply, she composed herself and trailed her fingertips along Snape's invisible lips. She grinned at his involuntary attempt to nip her fingers. Finally, she muttered, "Fine. I'm ready." In her mind, she was screaming, I'm ready for everything! I'm ready for you! She slid her hands down his chest and lightly twined her fingers with his again as he cast the charm. They shimmered into view, cloaked in the shadows.

As soon as they were visible again, Snape squeezed her hand and urged her toward the theatre. Resignedly, Hermione turned and strode toward the doors, with Snape beside her, holding her hand. They made their way into the theatre, offering their tickets to the usher, who showed them to their seats. Snape gazed alertly about him, taking in the décor and the size of the theatre. He realized that they had extremely good seats and reminded himself to thank the Grangers again for their efforts. He guided Hermione to her seat and held her coat for her to slide out of it. He was hard pressed to keep his hands to himself at the sight of her smooth skin and the delectable nape of her neck. Hermione took the coat from him and laid it against the back of her seat.

Snape heard an usher offering him the programme and took one. He turned to sit and was met with the sight of Hermione's thigh peeking through the slit in her dress. Sinking weakly into his seat, he couldn't take his eyes off her leg. She had sat down, and crossed her right leg over her left, causing the slit to spread across her right thigh, showing off the top of her smoky stocking clasped in the suspender. A tiny triangle of creamy flesh was visible above the stocking.

Hermione was absorbed in looking at her programme and didn't realize what effect she was inadvertently having on Snape. After a few beats, she turned to mention something in the programme and saw Snape's expression. He looked rather dazed, and his black eyes were crackling with heat. He even had faint spots of colour burning on his cheeks. Hermione's eyebrows rose and her mouth formed an "o" of astonishment. She followed his gaze and realized just how exposed she was. Gasping in chagrin, she quickly uncrossed her legs, smoothing her skirt. She felt herself flushing in embarrassment, but that turned to calculating amusement as she looked again at Snape. He had shaken his head violently and his eyes darted everywhere but at her. Clearing his throat savagely, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his programme conspicuously in his lap.

Hermione smirked to herself. The theatre was filling up quickly and people had taken seats on either side of them. She decided to have mercy on the poor man and affected interest in her programme again until he had regained his composure.

Snape mentally berated himself for his base reactions to Hermione. Good gods, man! Get a grip! You haven't been this out of control in... ever! You have an assignment and you must focus on it. Ignore temptation. You've always managed to stay focused before! Of course, you've never quite been faced with this kind of temptation before either. Bloody hell... I'm so going to lose my job... Snape cradled his face in his hands and closed his eyes, suppressing a groan. Disconsolately, he peered at Hermione and murmured, "Once the play starts, be sure to look at everything onstage, even if it's not the focus of the scene. Dumbledore needs to be able to see the whole set. And, every time it changes, look at everything again. Is that clear?"

Hermione turned solemn eyes on Snape and nodded gravely. Snape continued, in a low hiss, "Remember, he will be able to see everything we see. So, please, if you value your education and care for me to keep my job, please don't let anything slip!" He gazed at her meaningfully. Hermione looked at him, owl-eyed, and nodded again. The lights began to dim and the buzz of conversation in the theatre turned into a susurrus of whispers. Snape sat back in his seat and firmly turned his attention to the stage. Hermione glanced at him one last time before following suit.

The lights went down and the play began. It was fairly easy to focus on it for a while, since it was rather overwhelming, especially with being so close to the stage. Snape had to consciously think about blinking every time his eyes began to water. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. He felt like he was caught up with the swell of music and the current of emotions, and his chest felt like it would burst with enjoyment. Hermione chanced a glance at him, on pretence of leaning over to comment on a costume, and saw the rapt light in his dark eyes. Snape barely registered her whisper, almost mesmerized by the performance.

Hermione saw how much Snape was enjoying the play and sat back again, inordinately pleased. She gazed about with a huge grin on her face, trying to keep herself from mouthing along with the songs. Eventually, it came to the scene with the magic mirror, and Snape leant forward in his seat, staring hard at the stage. As soon as he heard the Phantom start his song, he jerked, sitting rigidly, his expression one of intense concentration. Hermione couldn't help but glance at him as he reacted so physically, and the fleeting thought that if he could "burn with the heat of his eyes," the whole stage would be aflame, so intently was he eyeing the performance.

As the play progressed through to "Music of the Night," Snape completely forgot about everyone else in the theatre, including Hermione. He was so absorbed in the performance, imagining himself in the role, recording the way the Phantom moved and gestured, that he could almost feel himself inhabiting the body of the actor onstage. As the song ended, he slowly sank back in his seat, but he never took his eyes off the Phantom. When the scene changed to the point where Christine snatched the mask off the Phantom, Snape gripped the arms of his seat so hard his knuckles turned white, and he scowled fiercely, breathing harshly in empathy. Hermione started at his vehement response and flicked a wary glance at him before hastily focusing on the play again. Eventually he relaxed again, thoughtfully watching the scenes with "Notes" and "Prima Donna."

When "Il Muto" began, he gracefully leant his chin on two long slender fingers, bemusedly gazing at the scene. When the Phantom's voice echoed throughout the theatre, he rapidly darted his gaze around, a small smile hovering on his lips. As the scene progressed, he smirked maliciously along with the Phantom's laughter and eyed the swinging chandelier. But, when Carlotta left the stage and the ballet began, his smirk faded and he regarded the shadows with growing seriousness. Hermione glanced at Snape again as the garrotted body of Buquet fell from the ceiling and saw his closed, bleak expression.

Christine and Raoul escaped to the roof, and eventually began "All I Ask of You." Hermione sternly kept herself from looking at Snape again, but she furtively snuck her hand over the arm of the seat to nestle in his.

Snape was seething as he watched the scene with Christine and Raoul, thinking about Hermione and Potter. He froze in panic at the feel of her soft hand creeping into his. Frantically, he kept his eyes on the stage, refusing to glance down at her hand in his. What the hell does she think she's doing? She's going to get us in trouble! Just don't look, and maybe she'll move it soon. Has she lost her senses? He forced himself to pay attention to the play, and not to her warm fingers snug in his hand.

As the song continued, and Christine sang, "Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime . . . say the word and I will follow you . . ." Hermione squeezed Snape's hand firmly, hoping to get the point across. Then, when Christine and Raoul kissed, she not only squeezed his hand, but she also rubbed her thumb across the edge of his thumb and forefinger, caressing him lightly.

Snape felt her ministrations and noted the timing of them. His heart thumped oddly in response, and his throat tightened. Stoically, he managed to keep his eyes on the stage, pretending Hermione was not wreaking havoc with his emotions. As Christine and Raoul left the stage and the Phantom sang his betrayal, Hermione gripped Snape's hand tightly. He swallowed thickly, blinking. Then, when the scene ended with the chandelier falling at Christine's feet, Hermione furtively slipped her hand from his to applaud the end of Act One. Snape immediately began applauding as well, grateful that she had released him. As the house lights came back up for intermission, Snape allowed himself to look at Hermione.

In a low voice, he murmured, "I understand your appreciation of the play now. It was already quite interesting as we've been reading and listening to it, but seeing it in action... It's extraordinary." He felt his lips widening into a beatific smile and found he couldn't stop himself. But, the answering smile from Hermione reconciled him to his lack of control. She beamed up at him, her eyes twinkling.

With a saucy tilt of her head, she lilted, "See, I told you it wouldn't be so bad, having to see the play with me..."

Snape arched one eyebrow in mock severity, before he let his faint scowl dissolve into a secretive smouldering look. His lip curling, he purred, "Indeed, it has been most... revealing."

Hermione's breath caught at the sultry note in his voice, and her eyes widened. Inexorably, she glanced down at her thigh, remembering how exposed she had been and how Snape had reacted. Her eyes darted to the programme in his lap before she looked back up at him through her lashes, flushing. Snape smirked.

In a husky whisper, Hermione said, "So, I suppose Dumbledore has no need to see intermission, wouldn't you say?" Snape saw the devilish gleam in her eye.

Warily, he retorted, "I should say not. Why do you ask?" His eyes narrowed on her shrewdly.

Casually, Hermione arched her back, stretching, thrusting her chest forward as she re-crossed her legs, once again allowing the slit to open over her thigh. She stretched her arms out wide and let her right arm drop behind Snape in his seat. Languidly, she glanced over at him and saw him gazing at her, his posture rigid, his eyes hungrily travelling across her chest and down over her thigh before creeping back up again. Enjoying herself hugely, Hermione lightly grazed her fingers along the back of Snape's neck and revelled in the shudder that swept over him as he closed his eyes.

Snape was reeling again. Merlin help me! This slip of a girl is a bloody vixen! That's it. I'm going to put some things into MY Pensieve before we go to Dumbledore, just to be safe... Hmm... Well, in that case... Snape came to a decision and opened his eyes, pinning Hermione with a stare that engulfed her in blazing heat and desire. She gasped and blinked rapidly.

Snape surreptitiously glanced around and saw that the people who had been seated around them were all gone, no doubt at the loo or in the lobby buying merchandise. When he looked back at Hermione, she noticed that his gaze had become almost predatory, and she suppressed a shiver, feeling a throb in the vicinity of her knickers. He leant toward her and stopped just millimetres from her ear, his nose brushing against her curls. Hermione could feel his warm breath against her ear, and her eyes closed involuntarily as he spoke.

In a deep, velvet purr, he said, "No, indeed. There are certainly things that Dumbledore does not need to see. Intermission is one of them..." Hermione jumped as she felt his gentle fingertips teasing the triangle of flesh above her stocking, coupled with the tickling sensations of his nose nuzzling her ear and neck. Her eyes flew open and she barely contained a squeak as he nipped along the cord of her neck, bathing it with hot breath, while his hand deftly smoothed the silky material of her stocking, cupping her knee as he came to it.

Snape's mind was screaming that he was going too far, but his body was disagreeing vehemently. He could feel Hermione's pulse racing under his lips and he smiled against her soft skin. The heady aroma of her perfume filled his nose, adding to the welter of sensations and thoughts spinning through him. He heard her shallow, halting breaths and lifted his lips to her ear again, breathing, "Is anything amiss, Miss Granger?" Hermione exhaled on a low note of longing and frustration. Snape heard the other patrons returning and gave a low, throaty chuckle before he retreated to his seat, sliding his hand along her leg again on its way back over the arm to his side. Hermione closed her eyes and swallowed harshly at the vibrations his laughter had sent across the sensitive shell of her ear. Blinking rapidly to focus her eyesight, she dazedly dragged her arm back from behind Snape and let her hands fall limply into her lap.

Snape leant back in his seat languorously, extremely satisfied with Hermione's reactions. A faint smirk hovered on his lips and he gazed at the stage from under hooded lids. He felt the tingle on his cheek that signalled Hermione staring at him and casually turned to her, affecting innocent inquiry. He raised his eyebrows at her as she pinned him with an intense glare.

Hermione was squirming in her seat, uncomfortably aware of how soaked her knickers were after Snape's surprising turnabout. Glancing irritably about at the rest of the theatre, realizing that Act Two was about to start, Hermione narrowed her eyes dangerously at Snape and muttered, "Touché." Tilting her chin up at a haughty angle, she sat back in her seat and buried her nose in her programme. Snape's smirk widened as he watched her eyes and noted that they weren't moving as she ostensibly "read" her programme. The lights dimmed, and he focused once again on the stage as the second act began.

Both Snape and Hermione were dazzled by the spectacle of the Masquerade. Their tête-à-tête was forgotten in the dizzying display in front of them. Snape leant forward in his seat, as if drawn to the performance. As the second "Notes" scene began, Snape sank back into his seat, his eyes darting between the actors as they sang their respective parts. When Christine finally cried out in her frustration, Snape scowled blackly, glaring at Raoul. Hermione was so absorbed in the scene, since she would be performing it, that she didn't even glance at Snape to see his reaction.

Both were silently engrossed in the play as it progressed through the rehearsal of "Don Juan" to Christine's trek to the graveyard. As the scene built, with the confrontation between Raoul and the Phantom seemingly imminent, Hermione snuck a glance at Snape, only to see him hunched forward in his seat, his elbows on his knees, glaring menacingly at the stage. She was impressed by his obvious focus as he stared intently at the Phantom shooting fireballs at Raoul and causing the lightning and flames to flare onstage. Then, as the scene came to an end, Snape pursed his lips and relaxed back into his seat, one finger thoughtfully tracing his mouth.

Hermione cast her attention back to the play as the scene that was not included in the recording began. Soon after that, "Don Juan" began, leading up to "Point of No Return." Hermione shifted discreetly in her seat, doggedly keeping her eyes on the performance, when all she wanted to do was look longingly at Snape.

Snape was once again caught up in the play. He gazed at the performers, a rapt light shining in his impossibly black eyes. When "Point of No Return" began, he unknowingly heaved a long sigh. Hermione heard him, but avoided looking. Then, when the song changed and the Phantom offered Christine a ring, Hermione was startled by Snape's sharp gasp, followed by an explosive exhalation. Flicking her gaze toward him, she noticed that his hands were balled into tight fists on his knees. When Christine finally pulled the Phantom's mask off and the audience could see his face, Snape backed into his seat forcefully, staring in wide-eyed fascination and horror at the gruesome sight. In her peripheral vision, Hermione saw him absently lift his hand to his face, grazing across the area that would be affected by the glamour.

Hermione's attention was drawn back to the performance as the culminating scene in the Phantom's dungeon began. She focused keenly on the interplay between Christine and the Phantom, cataloguing their actions and movements for future reference. When Raoul arrived, and the Phantom secured him in the noose, Hermione glanced again at Snape, to see him watching the actors, completely still, like a statue. She could barely tell he was breathing, and he was hardly even blinking. Her pulse sped up as the climax neared, and when Christine finally kissed the Phantom, her stomach clenched before roiling agitatedly.

Furtively glancing at Snape, she saw his hands gripping so tightly that they were trembling, but they relaxed as the kiss went on, until his fists opened into limp hands drooping over his kneecaps as the kiss ended. She could see his chest rising and falling like a bellows as he breathed heavily in the wake of the climax.

The final few minutes of the play wound down, bittersweet, until the Phantom disappeared and the mob arrived in his lair. Then, the curtain closed on the final image of Meg kneeling by the throne with the Phantom's mask in her hand, reflecting light all over the theatre. Applause erupted around them, and Snape clapped fiercely. As the curtain opened for the cast's curtain call, Snape instinctively shot to his feet, applauding vigorously. Hermione smiled to herself as she joined him and many of the rest of the audience in the standing ovation. Snape showed no signs of slowing as the cast made their way off the stage after their bows, preferring to applaud until they were all completely out of sight and the audience had begun filing out of the theatre. Then, he stopped clapping and sighed deeply, almost reverently, as he took one last, long look around him.

"Amazing," he said, in a voice barely above a whisper.

When he turned to Hermione, his eyes were glittering and his expression was one of someone who had been deeply moved. Hermione smiled gently up at him and reached out to grip his arm. He glanced down, surprised at her touch, and seemed to come to his senses again. Politely, he picked up her coat and held it for her to put on. Hermione flashed a dazzling smile at him and murmured, "Thank you," as she turned to slip into the coat.

Glancing over her shoulder at him, she saw him courteously gesture for her to precede him out of the row. As she exited the row and turned to him, he offered his arm to her with a courtly bow and a small smile. Twinkling at him, Hermione slipped her hand inside his elbow and enjoyed being swept up the aisle on his arm. She kept casting admiring glances up at him, devouring his dashing ensemble and aristocratic air. Without having to discuss it, they strode directly to the spot where they had become visible again and ensconced themselves in the shadows.

Snape withdrew his wand and pulled Hermione against him, wrapping his other arm around her and gazing down into her upturned face. Hermione was taken aback by his initiative, but her surprise dissolved into pleasure at the warmth of his lean frame against her. She smiled as his velvet voice murmured the charm and they disappeared from view. In the darkness, she felt them Apparate.

She voiced a faint squeal of delight to find them back in front of the fireplace in her living room instead of on her front step. A low chuckle sounded above her head and Snape cast the reversal. Hermione backed away a step to look up at Snape in the dim light from the dying embers left in the fireplace. He was staring at her intently, his lips almost quirked up in a smile. His eyebrow arched once and he purred, "Surprise."

Hermione giggled and flashed him that dazzling smile he so enjoyed. Tilting her head, she raised one eyebrow as she grabbed his hand and pulled him out to the foyer, where she placed a finger to her lips and shook her head, flicking her eyes at the stairs. Snape glanced up the stairs and back to her, his solemn expression belied by his dancing eyes as he helped her out of her coat. She quietly hung it up in the closet in the foyer. Grabbing his hand again, she pulled him into the kitchen and carefully shut the door behind her. Snape walked slowly through the kitchen, gazing about him interestedly. Hermione leant against the door, watching him hungrily, admiring his elegant posture and graceful movements. Snape ended up at the sink, where he slowly turned and leant back against the counter, his black eyes coming to rest on Hermione across the kitchen, eyeing him.

They locked gazes for a moment, devouring each other, as if etching the image of the other into their minds, never to be forgotten. Hermione found herself breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling noticeably, and she saw Snape's gaze drop to her cleavage, his jaw throbbing as he ground his teeth.

In a faint voice, Hermione managed to gasp out, "Mum said dessert was in the fridge. Would you like a snack before bedtime?" She smiled shakily at him, suddenly aware of her damp knickers again.

Snape noticed her trembling and smoothly answered, "That would be lovely," trying to maintain some semblance of normality. Hermione nodded and pushed herself off the door to cross to the refrigerator. She opened the door and bent down, peering inside. Snape felt a throb in his groin as he eyed her, her dress tight across her backside and riding up the back of her smoky-hued legs, above her knees.

Hermione moved something and then voiced an inarticulate cry of delight. Hastily standing up, she spun on Snape, holding a bowl and beaming. She crossed to the small table against the wall and placed the bowl on it, excitedly turning and retrieving two smaller bowls and spoons as well. Snape watched her, curious about what sort of food would engender such a rapturous response. Hermione pulled the chairs away from the table and gestured for Snape to come sit. Her eyes sparkled and her grin was infectious as she looked at him.

One eyebrow arching in inquiry, Snape lifted his chin in her direction and asked, "What is it?"

Hermione breathed, "My favourite!"

Rolling his eyes at such an evasive answer, Snape began unbuttoning his opera coat, striding toward the table. Hermione's eyes goggled at him and her grin faltered a moment before she caught herself and smiled again, colour rising in her cheeks. Snape's lip curled in a wicked smirk as he shrugged out of his coat, folding it neatly and draping it across the back of his chair before gracefully sinking into it. Hermione seemed to wilt into her seat, looking slightly dazed as Snape began to undo his cuffs, turning them up twice. Then, when he undid the button on his collar, Hermione swallowed nervously, her eyes almost as black as Snape's, so dilated were her pupils. Snape was thoroughly enjoying the effect he was having on her and leant back languidly in his chair, watching her from under hooded lids. Once again affecting polite interest, he asked, "And what exactly is your favourite?"

Hermione's face plainly showed the rush of answers that wanted to come out, mainly, "You! You're my favourite!" but she swallowed thickly and rasped, "Chocolate mousse, with cherries and whipped cream on top."

Snape leant forward slightly, interested in the dessert, remembering how delicious dinner had been. He looked into the bowl and saw the rich colour of the mousse, topped by the mound of whipped cream. Several maraschino cherries with stems were clustered on top, shining brightly in the light. In a conversational tone, Snape ventured, "So you like chocolate?"

Hermione nodded vigorously. "I don't know anyone who doesn't! But I love the mousse. It has such a divinely rich taste and the texture is so smooth and light. But it's even better with the whipped cream and cherries to complement it!" She chewed on her lower lip, eyeing the mousse with a hungry expression similar to the one she had been casting at Snape earlier. Snape bit back a snort of amusement.

Sitting back in his chair, he raised his hands in mock defence, as if warding her off. "By all means, don't let me stand in the way of your rendezvous with the mousse." He favoured her with a sardonic smirk.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him in pique. He was making fun of her! Fine, then. Be that way. We'll see how superior you act in a minute... Hermione huffed haughtily at him and reached into the bowl to lift out a cherry. Pinning him with an intense stare, she slowly brought the cream-covered cherry to her mouth, slipping her tongue out to lightly lick the whipped cream off it. Snape's smirk vanished with comical haste. He shifted in his seat, jaw line twitching, eyes glued to Hermione's tongue.

Hermione exaggerated every movement as she licked the cherry clean, letting her lids droop in decadent delight. Once the cherry was clean, she gently sucked it into her mouth, closing her lips around the stem. Just to torment Snape further, she let it slip out of her mouth with a slight "pop" and then resumed her ministrations. Finally, she sucked it into her mouth and bit the fruit from the stem. As she jerked the stem from her lips, Snape jumped. Hermione closed her eyes in sensual enjoyment as she chewed the cherry and swallowed. Sighing in contentment, she opened her eyes and smirked at Snape. His hands were gripping the table edge, and he was breathing shallowly, looking very agitated.

In a falsely bright voice, Hermione remarked, "I prefer the cherries with the stems. They provide food and entertainment." Snape blinked rapidly. Hermione smiled sweetly at him and whispered, "Watch." She put the stem in her mouth and held his gaze as she worked her jaw. After several moments of concentration on Hermione's part and tense observation on Snape's part, Hermione's lips widened into a wicked grin and she lifted her fingers to her lips, pulling out the cherry stem. Triumphantly presenting it to a bewildered Snape, she trilled, "Ta da!"

Snape looked at the cherry stem on her palm. It was now tied in a knot. He glanced up at her in dumb amazement. His mind was feverishly trying to handle the sensory and informational overload. As he grappled with her unusual accomplishment, that riotous voice in his head shouted, Merlin's bloody balls! Just think what else she could do with her tongue! Snape closed his eyes, trying to control the manic urge to lunge across the table and teach her other tricks to do with her tongue. Finally opening his eyes again, he stoically composed himself and murmured, "Very... intriguing."

Hermione stifled a giggle and reached into the bowl, snagging another cherry. Lifting it, she extended her hand toward Snape, purring, "Want a taste?"

Snape arched an eyebrow at her in unmistakable warning, exhaling fiercely through his nose. His eyes burned with his desire for "a taste." He eyed the fruit a moment and then snorted in a sudden fit of amusement. Hermione was taken aback by his rapid mood shift and her brow furrowed, puzzled. Her outstretched hand dropping just slightly, she asked, "What's so funny?"

Snape's lips were twitching, holding back his laughter. Struck with a wicked impulse, he leant over the table toward Hermione, closing in on her. She looked at him, startled and wary. He grabbed her hand and pulled it between their faces, pointedly looking at it. Then he moved it out of the way and leant closer to Hermione, his voice a low growl in her ear.

"Do you realize you have just offered me your cherry?"

Hermione gasped and stiffened. She yanked her hand from his grasp and backed away from his rumbling laugh. Without thinking, she shoved the cream-covered cherry into his mouth, smearing it across his lips, pushing him backward. She felt a rush of satisfaction at his expression of startled surprise and the abrupt end of his chuckle. Then, realizing what she had just done, her eyes flew wide open and she froze, afraid of his reaction.

Snape backed slowly away from Hermione and sank back into his seat. He serenely reached up to pull the stem from the fruit in his mouth, tossing it to the table. Methodically, he chewed and swallowed. Then, his tongue snaked out to lick the whipped cream from his lips. His eyes never left Hermione's as he purred, "Delicious."

Hermione shakily sat back down. Trembling, she silently dished up two bowls of mousse, sliding one across the table to Snape. Her gaze fluttered up to him and back down to her bowl. They ate in silence for a few moments. Then, Snape, high on the rush of adrenaline, endorphins, and other heady sex hormones, spoke.

In that same light, conversational tone, he commented, "I have heard that some people say chocolate is better than sex..." He gazed at Hermione through his lashes, idly licking mousse from his spoon.

Hermione flushed, feeling a tingle in her centre at Snape's voice uttering the word "sex." She glanced about, flustered, and muttered, "I wouldn't know."

Snape snapped to attention. Virgin! that voice screamed in his head. He was suddenly overcome with a wave of shame and remorse for his crass comment earlier. He dropped the bowl onto the table with a clatter and savagely cleared his throat. Heat suffused his face as he writhed in embarrassment. What the hell do you think you're doing? You really are pushing it...

He shot to his feet, startling Hermione. Snatching his bowl and spoon and rushing to the sink, he rinsed them with the energy borne of self-castigation. Determinedly not looking at Hermione again, Snape said, in a politely cool voice of indifference, "Your mother is quite an accomplished cook. Dessert was just as wonderful as dinner. I must remember to convey my gratitude in the morning." He turned off the water and doggedly strode to his chair, picking up his coat. "Speaking of which, morning will be here sooner than we might like, so I believe it is time to retire."

Hermione was watching him mutely, bewildered by his complete mood shifts. Slowly, she stood, picking up the bowl and placing it back in the refrigerator. Snape grabbed her bowl, dropped his coat again, and proceeded to rinse her bowl like he did his. Hermione leant against the refrigerator, baffled at his behaviour and worried. Tentatively, she ventured, "Are you okay?"

Snape straightened and his hands stilled. He gazed up at the ceiling and then dropped his chin to his chest, defeated. Resuming his vigorous scrubbing, he rumbled, "No. Once again, I must apologize. I was completely out of line, and I am disgusted with myself for my lack of couth. I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry I offended you." His shoulders drooped and he shut off the water resignedly, but he didn't turn around.

Hermione crossed to him and gently laid her hand on his shoulder. He shuddered and pulled away, spinning to face her. Hermione noted the white-knuckled grip he had on the countertop and looked up into his grim face. His expression was bleak with self-loathing and he wouldn't meet her eyes.

Hermione tried to catch his eye, but he kept turning his head, avoiding her. She whispered, "Severus." Snape's eyes closed and his brow furrowed in pain. Hermione stepped closer to him, almost against him, trapping him against the counter. She reached up and gently cupped his cheek in her hand. He started and tried to back away, but she wouldn't let him. She made a "tsk" noise with her tongue and sternly said, "Severus, look at me." Snape miserably faced her.

In a low but strong voice, she said, "I'm fine. You didn't offend me." Snape rolled his eyes and snorted in disbelief. Hermione eyed him severely and gripped his chin, forcing him to look her in the eye again. "Fine, if you won't believe that... I forgive you. Is that what you needed to hear?" She saw the shame in his eyes and smiled gently in reassurance. "I forgive you. For whatever you mistakenly think you did to need it. I'm fine. Please, let's not let such a wonderful evening be spoilt, ending like this." Snape's jaw was throbbing fiercely; she felt it under her hand. Knowing his propensity to wallow in his suffering, she made a decision.

"Let it end like this..." She lifted her other hand and slid it along his hair to the back of his head. His eyes were stunned as she pulled his head down and she stretched up to meet him. She kissed him. It wasn't the deep, passionate snogging from in the shadows before the play. It was a sweet, healing benison of trust and affection. She held him until she felt the stiffness in his posture dissolve. Finally, he slid his hands around her, crushing her in a vehement embrace. He pulled away from her kiss to bury his face in her neck. Hermione smiled and murmured, "Yes, I much prefer this ending..." She felt Snape's bark of amazed laughter.

He trailed his hands deftly across her back, caressing her shoulders tenderly. He pulled back and regarded her in wonder before he enveloped her in his arms again, tucking her head under his chin. He kissed her hair and whispered, "Thank you, Hermione. You don't know how much I needed to know what it was like to be forgiven."

He inhaled the intoxicating scent of her hair and her perfume and rained kisses on her, her hair, her ears, her neck, her shoulders, her jaw, and finally her mouth. When he claimed her lips in a searing kiss, Hermione could feel the change in his demeanour. He was no longer closed off and miserable. Pleased that he was no longer blaming himself, she responded to his kiss with heat.

Their kiss turned into a long, slow, sensual, probing exploration of each other. Snape tasted the chocolate on her tongue and sighed in bliss. Hermione revelled in the shuddering warmth that seemed to end up collecting in her knickers. After several minutes, Snape felt like sobbing in relief that he had found Hermione, and that she had managed to find him.

Him. The real him. Not the Potions Master persona he put on for everyone to see. She saw through that and understood parts of him that he didn't even fully comprehend. How could she have known the right things to say and do otherwise? Regretfully, he realized that they had to get some sleep before the tour the next morning. He pulled away from Hermione and slid his hands into the hair at the base of her skull. He felt the hairpins and smiled faintly as he systematically rooted them out, collecting them on the counter beside them. Finally, once they were all out, he gently released Hermione's hair from its twist and finger-combed her curly tresses over her bare shoulders. She watched him with eyes glazed in pleasure.

He smiled at her. "There's my bushy-haired Gryffindor..." Hermione's heart thumped at his words. She gazed up at him, rapt, her breath catching. Snape grazed his fingers over her hair, smirking indulgently at her shiver. In a velvet purr, he said, "It's past your curfew..." Resolutely, he clasped her hands in his and pulled her away from the counter. Deftly snagging his coat, he guided her to the kitchen door. She gazed at him reproachfully. His eyes twinkling, he tilted his head toward the door and placed one long slender finger to his lips, imitating her gesture when they had arrived.

He led the way out and up the stairs, Hermione trailing wistfully behind him. Between their doors, they stopped, facing one another. Snape glanced down the hall at the Grangers' closed door. Inclining his head toward Hermione, he spun and opened his door quietly. He turned and regarded her from the doorway. In a faint whisper, he said, "Good night. Sweet dreams." Then, giving her one last smouldering look, he closed the door between them, leaving Hermione standing in the hallway.

Hermione sighed. Resignedly, she moped into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her makeup off before going to bed. Exiting the bathroom, she tiptoed to Snape's door, listening hard. She couldn't hear anything, and she couldn't tell if there was light coming from under the door or not. Mouth twisting in a moue of disappointment, she turned off the hall light and retreated to her bedroom.