Hermione Granger smiled at the memory of her and Harry’s first kiss. Her smile faded as she also remembered all the trouble it had caused her. Professor Snape had disappeared for many months after that; they had said it was because of his health. Hermione knew he wasn’t gone forever. He returned by the beginning of March, and insisted that she keep learning new things from him, keep working at potions together. But Harry maintained that she stay away, so Hermione did, and finally the persistence stopped and Snape left her alone.
He was always watching, though, and during April, Harry and Severus got into a squabble in the hallway; just words, but both wands were drawn. She never learned what they were fighting about. This only made her worry about Harry all the more. She was certain Harry wanted Severus gone one way or the other, even if he didn’t believe he was a threat. She didn’t think she wanted him gone; she did care deeply for him, and she pitied him. All that time they spent together… she had cared for him, but her love for Harry was much older. She had broken Snape’s heart, and she wasn’t sure if she could forgive herself for that. It was almost as if she had betrayed him. Now he scared her though, with the deaths, the threats. She didn’t feel safe with him around anymore.
Severus’ and Harry’s encounter had made Hermione nervous. Harry insisted they were safe but she felt both she and Harry were in danger while Severus still watched them. So Hermione kept their engagement in a secret, using the necklace as a sign of their love, while in her locked dress drawer was a ring. She never took it out; just knowing it was there was enough. As finals drew near, Hermione realized she would have to meet with the Potions Master. It was crucial to prepare the students the best way she could. If it weren’t for her dedication to the students she wouldn’t have thought twice about meeting him. So Hermione had sent him an owl, and they were to meet tonight, around five. She had dinner at seven with Harry, so she wouldn’t be longer then an hour or so. At least that was her hope.
She wondered what was going to happen tonight, what would he say? Would he hate her? She wouldn’t blame him if he did; she deserved to be hated for what she did to him. Certainly he didn’t trust her, maybe he would even try to hurt her. She had to be careful. She imagined possibly the worst scenarios, before she decided to get ready for her date. She thought she should dress beforehand in case the meeting ran later then she hoped. She gazed thoughtfully at herself in the mirror.
She had decided to wear her favorite dress; the black dress with red seams and white lace outlining the top of the dress, her middle, and the straps. The bottom of the dress flowed around her legs, barely touching the top of her feet. She adjusted the thick loose straps, but they kept falling hopelessly off the top of her shoulder. She pulled part of her frizzy hair back into a small bun while the rest fell across her back and over her shoulders.
She kept staring at her reflection, twirling a strand of hair around her finger over and over again. She was so nervous; she hadn’t even considered Severus seeing her like this. She decided to wear her black cloak over her dress. Then she went back to pacing and twirling her hair. After a few minutes she heard the door to her classroom open. It was Harry. Hermione was so grateful to see him before she went, even if he couldn’t come with her.
“You look great,” he said, kissing her forehead. She collapsed into his arms, where she was safe if only for a minute.
“I’m scared Harry,” she said, her head resting on his chest.
“Don’t be, he won’t do anything to you while I’m here,” he replied, running his fingers through her hair. Hermione just nodded resting comfortably in his arms.
“You have to go now,” he said, pulling her away, “you’ll be okay.” He kissed her reassuringly.
“I suppose,” she murmured, pulling her cloak tightly around her, folding her arms over the top.
“I’ll come to get you at seven,” he said, finally letting go of her hand. She nodded, placing all of her heart in that sentence.
The walk down to the dungeons took forever; each step was a lifetime. She had no idea how to get through this meeting. She ran her hand over her books and papers, clutching them tight like when she was in school. She held them close to her like the little girl she was many years ago; they gave her comfort, something she could count on. Everything in the books was true, were fact, things she could place her life on. Relationships and emotions were never like that, they were changing, cruel, and they lied. She had finally made her way to the dungeon door and taking a deep breath swung it open. She held her head high, her body poised, but her heart shook with fear. He would know she was scared, he would know. When she entered the room, he offered to take her cloak immediately, which she had no choice but to reluctantly give up, revealing the seductive dress underneath.
“Hermione, please, have a seat,” invited Severus, pulling out a chair for her like a gentleman. She sat down and thanked him warmly but on the inside she was still shaking, and she knew he could see it. If he could see her fear, he didn’t show it, smoothly setting a glass of wine in front of her. She looked at it, taking it in her hand, swirling the wine around. She wondered if it were poisoned or drugged.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not going to poison you,” insisted Severus, sitting next to her, she blushed, and shook her head taking large drink hoping he was right.
She pulled out all her work and plans for finals, student assessments, aligning everything neatly. She had already thought of her game plan earlier, she was going to agree with everything he said. Even if she would normally disagree she decided it would be much easier if she agreed and she got out of there. She took another long drink of her wine, hoping it would calm her nerves, and it seemed to. She felt more relaxed; her inhibitions seemed to loosen.
“So would you like to start with the assessments or lessons?” she asked, meeting his eyes, somewhat entranced. Her body tingled, and she rubbed the goose bumps off her arms, pulling her eyes away. She blushed, taking another sip of wine.
“Is that really why you are here? Or is it that you have come to see me. You forget that I can see your very thoughts, and that I know what is in your soul.” He helped her to her feet, and she couldn’t resist, there was something in him that she wanted. She didn’t seem to care that this wasn’t why she came, or that Harry was somewhere very close. The feelings of passion she once felt had come back in a rush, either by his touch or his voice or maybe in his words. Whatever it was it had found Hermione lost in a wave of fervor, her thoughts lingering on his every word.
“In your mind you’ve already given yourself to me, you are even now surrendering to me again. Hermione, this game we’ve played ends here. Neither you nor I were made for foolish games; games are for the simple, like Mr. Potter. You and I are not simple.” He turned her around, so her back was to his chest, and he held her hands it his, crossing them over her stomach. Her body shivered with and old feeling returning, and she was sure this was what she wanted. “No use in fighting it now, now you can be free.” He turned her back around facing him, softly touching her cheek, “What is it that we will be together? What fiery longing has been dormant in our separation?”
Hermione stared breathlessly at him; this was what she wanted, this obsession. She wanted to mingle with the dark insanity he had brought her. She wanted his touch, the passion more than anything or anyone in the world. This was something Harry simply didn’t have, though the truth was that Harry was very far from her mind. “You have brought me to this place where words and logic make no sense,” she breathed. “For once I take rapture in my loss of thought because it’s with you that I’m lost. I fall in love with this moment when speech falls victim to silence. I came here, not really knowing the reason why. Yet in my mind, I’ve imagined our bodies as one. Now I’m here with no resistance, no looking back because all I need is standing here.” The straps of her dress had fallen down again, and she had no intention of pushing them back up. He kissed her hand, looking at her covetously. She smiled mischievously, continuing to lead him back. “We are past the point of answers and reason. We no longer belong in the age of morals and wickedness; real life has just begun.”
As much as she wanted him to, he didn’t kiss her, just held her, moving his hands across her body seductively. She closed her eyes, placing her hands over his, resting her head in his chest. She felt intoxicated, but free; for once she didn’t feel constricted by the ways of love and lust. It all made sense now, nothing in the world was worth what she felt now, not Harry, not the students, not potions.
He lifted her chin upwards, to meet his eyes. “Say you’ll love me. Say you’ll always be mine. Save me from my seclusion. That is what I ask of you.”
“Hermione!” yelled Harry from the dungeon door. She turned to look at him, and then looked back to where she was in Severus’s arms. Reality hit her like a hard brick, and she physically reeled at its hard blow. She swayed but Severus caught her tightly in his arms. The wine had been tampered with; he had given her a lust potion. She tried to pull away but it was too late, he already had her trapped, holding her close to him. All this had hit Hermione hard; she had the will to faint but not here, not now. The look on Harry’s face was pained and she would have done anything to fix it, but now it was too late. She had made a grave mistake.