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Despite how all the other “treatments”
had turned out, Severus had been very skeptical when
Hermione first informed him they’d be attending a board
gaming club meeting for his next treatment a couple weeks
later. He hadn’t really known what one was, actually;
though he’d certainly played and even enjoyed the occasional
game of Wizard Chess with Albus, in general his life had
given him little opportunity for what most people considered
“recreational activities.”
But chess was only the beginning,
Hermione had informed him. There were hundreds of excellent
and intelligent games to be played, and supposedly a variety
of interesting folks with whom to play them. She’d piqued
his interest with phrases like “better than chess” and “the
hobby of choice for intelligent people,” but when pressed
had admitted that her motivation for suggesting the outing
was to allow him to meet and interact with new people who
had no preconceived ideas about him. After extracting a
promise from Hermione that she would not attempt to drag him
a second time if he did not like it, Severus had agreed to
accompany her to a meeting of the Leeds Leisure Gaming
Society.
He’d been pleasantly surprised. The
group’s regular members had welcomed the newcomers warmly,
shaking their hands and smiling at “Hermione and Severus”,
as she’d introduced them. It had been more years than he
could remember since he’d last been introduced to someone
who did not already know of him. He had always been Severus
Snape, “feared Potions Master” or Severus Snape, “former
Death Eater”. But here, he was just plain Severus Snape.
Hermione had been correct in that there
hadn’t been a dunderhead among them. Even the lone child in
the group, a gangly teenage girl named Brigid, had been well
mannered though slightly precocious. Severus had found
little difficulty in being quietly sociable.
And much to his surprise, he’d had
fun. Many of the games were fascinating and allowed him
to stretch his brain for the first time since the war, and
under far more relaxed circumstances. Hermione had steered
him away from the games that assumed one had knowledge of
muggle sports; instead they settled the fictional island of
Catan and managed competing railways in Empire Builder.
Severus had been disappointed when the group called the
meeting to an end; he’d found himself wanting to try many
more of the other games. Well, perhaps he’d allow Hermione
to talk him into attending the next session after all.
But now, Severus had a different sort
of outing to prepare for. One that made him far more
nervous. Tonight, Hermione was taking him to a night club.
“It is obvious you’re making
progress,” she’d told him. “So I think it’s time to
increase the stakes.”
Those words had been Severus’ first
indication that he might not be thrilled with her next idea.
Not that he’d particularly liked any of her ideas
at first, but that was beside the point.
“I think you’re ready for some
higher density interpersonal interactions, to expand upon
the results of your independent study.”
Severus wasn’t sure how Hermione had
known that he’d even bothered with her ‘private exercises,’
but then again she had said she would assume he’d done them,
so he did not mention it. He’d just listened to her rattle
off the many benefits of attending a muggle dance club, most
of which seemed to focus on his interacting with the
opposite gender in a physical and personal sense.
Apparently Hermione had decided he wasn’t gay as well;
amusing, since she must have done so after she sent him
several items of homosexual interest as part of the
pornography lesson. It was a bit of a mystery, but not one
Severus worried overly much about.
“You don’t have to know how to
dance, Severus. Muggle social dancing isn’t much more than
rhythmic gyrations, after all!” She’d dismissed his
insistence that he did not dance and had brooked no
refusal.
So now here he was, in his quarters,
taking more care with his physical appearance than he could
ever remember having done. Hermione had informed him that
people dress up and try to look their best when they go out
dancing, in order to attract the opposite sex or to outshine
those other members of their own. Severus held no illusions
about his own appearance, but his newly-formed sense of
pride refused to allow him to go underdressed; he had no
wish to be mocked by persons of either gender. He’d
washed his hair thrice to remove the oil as best he could,
and had chosen a simple but well tailored black shirt and
trousers for the occasion. There was little he could do to
improve his face, he bemoaned silently as he fastened the
last few buttons of the round shirt collar, but at least the
room would be dark. Or so Hermione had assured him.
Hermione was already waiting for him in
the staff room when he arrived at the designated time. He
gulped as he took in her … appearance. She’d done something
rather miraculous with her hair. It was pinned up high in a
mass of curls, with only a gentle ringlet dangling down
along each cheek. Her neck was bare, save for a very thin
gold chain bearing a locket that rested right above her
breasts. Her breasts, he noted with more than a little
pleasure, were not completely covered by the swooping
neckline of her black gown (if there was enough fabric in
the frock to constitute a gown, that is.) The bodice was
held up either by magic or by the two slivers of black
thread at her shoulders; the skirt extended only to the
middle of her thighs, revealing a length of legs that
inspired some rather inappropriate thoughts about how they
would feel wrapped around his waist.
If Hermione had been a student, Severus
would have deducted points from Gryffindor and sent her to
her dormitory to cover herself. As she was no longer his
student, he merely gulped again and wondered fleetingly if
she might ask him to dance as well. “Good evening, Miss
Granger.”
“I thought we’d dispensed with the
formalities at game night, Severus. Since we are now,
effectively, colleagues I see no reason to bring them back.
If that’s all right with you?”
Severus nodded. He liked the way his
name rolled off her lips. “That will be acceptable.”
Hermione looked him over, much the same
way he’d just done her, except her brow was furrowed and she
did not appear to be aroused by his appearance.
“Hmmm… Maybe you should unbutton your
collar, to look a little more relaxed… but no, I think it
works fine the way you have it. Just one thing, I think.”
Hermione reached into her handbag and pulled out what looked
like a small black loop. “Come here, I want to try
something. Now, turn around.”
Severus did as she asked and felt her
come close behind him. Her hands gently gathered his hair,
her fingers brushing the side of his neck as they secured
his hair with the fastening. He gritted his teeth, willing
his body not to respond to what had amounted to the closest
personal contact he’d had since he was a teenager. He
thought about Sibyll Trelawney; that cooled his ardor quite
rapidly.
“Women love a man with a pony tail,”
announced Hermione sagely as she circled him to admire her
handiwork.
Severus grimaced. “I seriously doubt a
change in hairstyle will suddenly cause women to find me
attractive.”
“Perhaps not, but there is a certain
kind of woman who prefers her men to be a little, well,
rough around the edges,” clarified Hermione. “I would be
very surprised if at least one woman at the club tonight
doesn’t make eyes at you.”
Ah, but it wouldn’t surprise me
a bit, thought Severus as they made their now familiar
way through the floo to Diagon Alley.
Severus resisted the urge to rest his
hand along the small of Hermione’s back as they entered the
Club Richie. The large room was dimly lit overall, but
flashing colored lights illuminated the sizeable dance floor
in the center. The club was densely populated; some people
were dancing in couples or groups, others gathered at small
tables or at the great bar in the back of the room.
Severus felt a rush of panic at being
surrounded by so many strangers. He looked down at
Hermione, who seemed to sense his discomfiture. “Why don’t
you sit down over there and get used to the surroundings?
I’ll fetch us some drinks. Do you want anything in
particular?”
He shook his head. “I doubt they have
Ogdens, so just bring me something strong.”
“I’ll be right back,” she nodded.
Severus seated himself at the empty table she’d indicated
and then watched her walk towards the bar until she
disappeared into the crowd. Only then did he begin
observing the club’s other patrons.
There was a group of young women
sitting a couple of tables away, laughing over a bottle of
wine. Severus estimated their ages to be mid to late
twenties. They were an attractive lot, each with long hair
covering their back and wrapping over their shoulders to
rest gently on their breasts. He wondered why they hadn’t
yet been claimed by the various men in the room.
Severus’ eyes wandered about the room
again. He was not the oldest man in attendance; he noted at
least one older couple wrapped together on the dance floor,
and a man old enough to be his father sitting with a girl
young enough to be his daughter across the room. A group of
boys barely out of the classroom appeared to be chatting up
a pair of pretty young girls on the dance floor. Had he
ever been that young?
“Here we are,” chirped Hermione as she
placed an old-fashioned glass before him on the table. “I
thought you might enjoy a scotch. I noticed you looking at
the some of the ladies over there. Have you decided who
you’ll ask to dance yet?”
What? “Who I’ll ask to
dance?” Severus raised his eyebrows. “I thought the ladies
were supposed to be banging down my proverbial door, the way
you told it earlier!”
“That’s putting a little too strongly,
Severus. Liberated as today’s women are, they are much more
likely to smile and wink at you to show their interest than
to actually approach you themselves.”
“No one is going to smile or
wink at me, Miss.- Hermione!” Severus’ eyes narrowed, as
Hermione seemed to be smirking at him. “And you’re a fool
if you think so.”
“Hmmm…” Hermione looked away from him,
gazing off toward some of the other tables. She squinted a
bit. “Look over there, Severus. Two tables away. Red
hair, short skirt, long jacket.”
“Why?”
“She’s checking you out,” replied
Hermione, casually. “I told you some women like the black
and mysterious look.”
“She is not,” Severus started to say as
he turned to look and found himself staring into the eyes of
one of the women he’d been admiring earlier. The girl
blushed prettily as their eyes met, but her gaze remained
steady. Severus tipped his head formally in her direction
then turned back to a grinning Hermione. “She smiled at
me!”
Hermione laughed. “I told you so! You
should ask her to dance!”
“But…” he looked toward the girl
again. She was still watching him. No matter. “I cannot
leave you here alone. It would be unseemly.”
“I’ll be fine,” assured Hermione. “I
don’t need a chaperone, after all! I may even find a
partner of my own.”
Severus didn’t like that idea but
merely glared in response.
“Oh, go on! She won’t bite, I’m sure.
Think of it as part of your assignment, if you must!”
“If you insist,” he muttered,
standing. With a last glance back at Hermione, Severus made
his way over to the table where the comely redhead was
seated with her friends. He surreptitiously noted the way
couples on the dance floor were dancing in order to utilize
that information later. The lady watched, smiling, as he
approached.
“Well, hello there,” she greeted him
flirtatiously. “I was wondering if you’d ever gather the
courage to come over.”
“Good evening,” replied Severus as he
stood next to her chair. As an afterthought he acknowledged
the other ladies seated at the table with a nod. He chose
not to address the issue of courage.
“Joanna, you might as well drag him off
to the dance floor, it’s gotten a bit crowded here at the
table,” remarked one of her companions.
Joanna stood and took his hand.
“Sounds like a brilliant idea to me. Shall we?”
“I should warn you that I’m rather out
of practice,” cautioned Severus as he found himself led out
to the dance floor.
“That’s all right, I can teach you
whatever you need to know.” Was it his imagination or had
she winked at him again? These muggle women certainly were
brazen!
They stopped in a small open spot near
the center of the dance floor. Joanna moved close in front
of him and, placing her arms around his neck, pulled him
close up against her. Severus recalled the other dancers’
technique as he placed his arms around her waist.
The excessive closeness made him feel
uncomfortable and he held himself stiffly for a few moments,
but his body had other ideas. It reacted very quickly to
the close proximity of feminine flesh as Joanna swayed
against him. The breasts that pressed against his chest
seemed to burn through his shirt and he could almost feel
where the swell of her derriere began under where his hands
gently rested. If Joanna noticed his arousal, she was not
complaining; her fingers were massaging the back of his neck
softly and she seemed content to rest her head against his
collarbone.
“I haven’t seen you here before,”
commented Joanna as they swayed softly to the music. “First
time?”
You have no idea, thought
Severus. “Yes, a colleague suggested the outing.”
“A colleague?” repeated Joanna. “The
pretty girl I saw you sitting with? I must confess at first
I worried that you might already be spoken for.”
“Definitely not,” Severus replied
firmly, reminding himself that there could never be anything
between himself and Hermione despite his own strong desire
to drag her to his rooms and shag her senseless. Then
again, with the soft loveliness of Joanna currently in his
arms, his desire for Hermione’s delectable body was happy to
stand by the wayside.
The two danced some more silently.
Severus closed his eyes and concentrated on memorizing the
feel of a woman in his arms. After a few minutes of
delight, his reverie was interrupted when Joanna spoke
again.
“So, where do you and your colleague
work?”
“At a school up North,” he replied.
Joanna sighed. “You’re far from home
then? Pity. I was hoping you’d make it a habit of coming
here and keeping me company.”
“I do come to London periodically. I’m
sure I could patronize this establishment again, if I had a
reason to.” And repeating this experience seemed as good a
reason as any to Severus.
“I guess I’ll just have to give you a
reason then,” teased Joanna, her fingers still tickling the
back of his neck with their light brushes. “You know I’m
called Joanna, but I still don’t know your name.”
“Severus,” he informed her. “Severus
Snape.”
“Severus,” she repeated. “I like
that. Unusual and elegant. I must confess I’d have been
disappointed if you’d turned out to have a normal name, like
John or Harry.”
Severus fought back the habitual scowl
threatening to intrude before assuring her, “Definitely not
Harry!” He pulled her closer; he could get used to this.
When they headed back to Severus’ table
for a short break from dancing, Hermione was sitting with an
overly muscular young man wearing a plain T-shirt that was
far too tight and nursing a beer.
“Severus,” Hermione greeted him with a
smile. “This is John. He was kind enough to buy me a
drink. Why don’t you and your friend join us?”
Severus and Joanna shared a sly grin
upon hearing Hermione’s new companion’s name. “Joanna, this
is Hermione Granger, the librarian at my school. Hermione,
this is Joanna. . .” He realized he did not know her
surname.
“Nice to meet you,” greeted Joanna,
extending her hand to Hermione. “I’m the office manager at
a chiropody firm.”
“Good to meet you, Joanna.” Severus
watched as the two women exchanged small talk for several
minutes, enjoying the feel of Joanna’s hand in his own.
Hermione’s beau however seemed less than pleased by their
intrusion; he sat silently glowering and looking away.
After several minutes, John stood and
took Hermione’s hand. “Let’s dance, shall we? I’m getting
restless from all this sitting around.”
“All right,” agreed Hermione, standing
to join him. “You two have fun, and we’ll catch up with you
later.”
“Alone at last!” Joanna scooted her
chair closer to Severus’ and rested her head on his shoulder
again. “Figuratively speaking.”
Severus allowed himself to put an arm
around her shoulder and they sat together talking for
several minutes before deciding to dance again.
Joanna stifled a yawn. “It’s getting
late. I should probably be getting home.”
“Oh.” Severus tried not to show his
disappointment. Despite also being fatigued, he didn’t want
the evening to end.
He heard a chuckle. Joanna was smiling
coyly. “You’re welcome to join me, of course.”
Good heavens! She was inviting him
home. How incredibly forward! In one of the movies
Hermione’d sent him, a girl had invited a man home from a
club such as this one and then she’d subjected him to a
plethora of fleshy delights! Severus could scarcely believe
his good fortune.
“I’d like that,” he smiled in a way he
hoped was flirtatious yet not desperate. “Although I must
first tell Hermione she’ll have to find her own way home.”
Severus tried to mask his excitement as
he scanned the crowd for Hermione. He saw her standing with
John next to the bar, the younger man’s arm over her
shoulder. “There she is. You wait here; I’ll go tell her
we’re leaving.”
Severus knew there was something off
about Hermione almost immediately. Whether it was her
uncommonly vapid expression, the way she seemed not to
notice John’s hand reaching down her neckline, or the
dreadful cry of “Snapey!” that she let out at his approach
didn’t matter; he knew something was amiss.
“Miss Granger, are you drunk?” he
asked, instinctively reverting to his professorial mode.
“How many drinks have you had, girl?”
Hermione motioned as if counting on her
fingers, then held up two. “Three!” She giggled and then
reached up to tweak Severus’ nose. “Did anyone ever tell
you what they say about the size of a man’s nose?”
Severus whirled towards John. “Three
drinks shouldn’t make her this incompetent! Not three
normal ones in any case. What did you give her?”
John sneered in challenge, his arm
pulling Hermione tighter against him. “What’s it to you,
mate? You’ve got your own date.”
Another look at Hermione’s dazed
countenance convinced Severus that she was in no condition
to be left alone with this buffoon. He pulled himself up to
his full height and loomed over John as if he were an errant
student. “Unhand her, immediately. As she is obviously too
drunk to see herself home, I will do so myself.”
“She’s not drunk, she’s enjoying
herself. Aren’t you, Hermione?” John gave the breast under
his hand a little squeeze. Hermione just giggled.
This was not normal behavior, even for
a drunk person. Severus began to suspect John of more than
just plying her with alcohol. The antagonistic look in
John’s eye convinced him. But how could he find out for
sure? It wasn’t as if he carried veritaserum in his pocket,
nor could he whip out his wand and hex the cad while in a
room full of muggles! And John was definitely too big for
Severus to take down with standard fisticuffs. He quickly
considered several alternative ways to extract Hermione from
the oaf’s clutches and finally settled on a primitive but
relatively discreet method of torture he’d seen one of
Voldemort’s followers utilize. Discretion was important
when in a crowd of muggles.
Severus turned as if to walk away, then
whipped back around, fluidly grabbing John by parts that
should never be manhandled and squeezing with all his might.
John yelped, knocking Hermione to the ground as he doubled
over in pain.
“What. Did. You. Give. Her?” Severus
softly enunciated as he squeezed.
“Roofie,” he gasped, trying to pull
away from Severus’ grip on his groin. “It won’t hurt her, I
just wanted some fun.”
Severus let go, shoving John with his
other hand. “Come near her again, and I’ll kill you.”
Direct, and to the point.
John scrambled away as Severus helped
Hermione off the floor and guided her back to where Joanna
was now having a conversation with one of her friends from
the table. Several of the club’s patrons watched them walk
by curiously, but none commented.
“That bastard gave her something called
‘Roofie’, I’m going to have to take her home,” apologized
Severus. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to take you up on your
offer this evening after all.”
Joanna gasped, one hand flying to cover
her mouth. Her friend looked horrified and interjected, “A
roofie? I’ve heard of those. They call it the ‘date rape’
drug because the victim forgets what happened to them.”
“How scary! Thank goodness you were
here to stop him! I don’t even want to think of what
would have happened if she’d been alone.” Joanna
shuddered. “You’d better get her home, or better yet to
hospital! Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, I can manage. You wanted to be
getting home anyway.” Severus turned to her friend. He
wanted to make sure Joanna wasn’t assaulted on her way home,
but didn’t know of a non-wizarding way to escort her with
Hermione in tow. He fabricated an excuse. “Can you see her
home safely? I’m afraid my vehicle seats only two.”
“Of course, she can come with us,”
replied the friend, nodding.
“You just worry about getting your
friend home safely. Here,” Joanna pulled a card out of her
handbag and handed it to Severus. “Just ring me up next
time you’re in town and we’ll pick up where we left off.”
Joanna was truly a fine woman. He
smiled shyly at her. “I will. Be seeing you.”
Once out of the public eye, Severus
apparated himself and Hermione to the edge of the Hogwarts
grounds. She had not stopped playing with the buttons on
his shirt since they’d left the nightclub; Severus assumed
that the drug must have aphrodisiacal qualities as well as
amnesiac ones, for this behavior was totally out of
character for the young woman. He snorted when he heard her
giggle about “so many buttons.”
He’d managed to steer Hermione halfway
to the infirmary before he remembered that Poppy had gone
away for the weekend to visit family. He’d just have to
deal with this on his own. He pondered the drug she’d been
administered. Roofie… roofie… he’d had no experience with
potions of this type. As such, he decided the best thing to
do was to observe and see if the effects would wear off on
their own. He never considered taking her to a muggle
hospital, and thought he’d prefer to observe her for awhile
and see if he could avoid taking her to St. Mungo’s and
facing the questions there.
Severus guided Hermione into one of the
hospital beds and pulled a chair close beside her. He could
see that despite the giddiness and provocative behavior
brought on by the drug she was beginning to tire; so Severus
waited quietly for her to fall asleep before he allowed his
own eyes to close as well. He was awakened sharply by the
frantic sound of Hermione’s voice.
“I’m sorry! Ron, I’m so sorry!” She
repeated the words over and over, her eyes still closed.
Severus wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or delirious, and he
had no idea what she was sorry about. He found though that
he didn’t like seeing her so upset, so he gingerly took her
hand. She squeezed it tightly in response. “I didn’t mean
for it to end that way, please forgive me!”
Severus tried to calm her down without
waking her. The effort was awkward, since comforting people
was unaccustomed act for him. “Shhh, it’s all right.”
”No, it’s not all right! I said ‘no’
and then you died!”
“It will be all right,” Severus moved
closer, out of his chair to sit on the edge of her bed. He
found himself reaching forward with his other hand to gently
smooth the hair back from her face, then stilled as she
grabbed his hand, pulling it to her lips.
“Let me make it right,” she urged,
planting kisses on his hand.
Make what right? Severus tried to make
sense of her words but discovered that he couldn’t think
through the distraction of her lips against his palm. His
body had other ideas. He tried to pull back, but Hermione’s
eyes flew open and she held his hand tightly. She stared
through him with foggy eyes, eyes that were focused not on
himself, but more likely on the image in her mind.
She sat up, reaching for his cheek with
her free hand. “Ron, let me make love to you now!” And she
leaned forward to press her lips against his.
Severus found himself unable to move;
his eyes closed of their own volition and his body trembled
under the feel of Hermione’s hand on his cheek and her
tongue gently licking against his lower lip. He sat
motionless, just feeling, while Hermione moaned, trying to
coax his lips apart. It was too amazing to resist, and he
found himself groaning in surrender. Her grip on his hand
eased and he raised both hands to cup her face as he
returned the kiss, feasting in the sheer delight of it.
Their hands stroked each other’s faces tenderly as they
drank of each other’s tongues, and Severus felt a desire and
arousal beyond anything he’d experienced yet. He wanted to
peel off her clothes, piece by piece, and taste every inch
of her body before burying himself in her again and again.
“I’m sorry, Ron. . .” she murmured
against Severus’ mouth.
What was he doing, Severus
berated himself. Hermione was drugged for Merlin’s
sake and here he was taking an unforgivable advantage of
her. He pulled away harshly. “No, I can’t do this!”
“Ron?” Hermione was looking at him
with the saddest of eyes. “Don’t you want me anymore? I
need to make it up to you!”
Suddenly Severus understood what
Hermione was trying to make up for. She’d never given
herself to Ron, and she couldn’t forgive herself for it.
And now, somehow, the effect of the drugs caused her to
mistake him for Ron, so she was offering herself to him. He
wanted her badly, but even he wouldn’t stoop so low as to
make love with someone who thought he was another.
Instead, with a kindness he didn’t know
he had, he leaned forward to kiss her softly and chastely
one last time. “There’s no need, Hermione. I forgive you.”
“What?”
“I forgive you, Hermione. It’s time
for you to let me go.” Severus tried not to think about the
dubious ethics of impersonating her dead boyfriend. He only
hoped his actions would help cure her of her demons the way
she’d helped him tackle his own.
“Oh.” Hermione seemed surprised, but
then smiled. “All right, then. Goodbye, Ron. I love
you.” And then she lay back down, fast asleep.
Severus watched her tenderly for
several minutes to ensure that she was really asleep this
time. He tried, unsuccessfully, not to dwell on the amazing
kiss they’d just shared. Then, with a painful sigh and a
glance back to her, he went to the lavatory to deal with the
throbbing ache between his legs.
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