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Stolen from Snape	By : AngelaBlythe Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 10077 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter 1
- 1
PART I

Four hours ago Snape had come
back to the dungeons after a meeting with McGonagall to find his supply closet
open, unguarded, and missing a single, rare ingredient � Essence of
Jasperweed.� There were maybe three people
in the whole school who could have opened his supply cabinet � his private supply cabinet � and not have
alerted his protection charms.� One was
Minerva McGonagall.� She would do no
such thing.� The second was Fidelus
Flitwick.� Why did he need Essence of
Jasperweed?� He was a Charms
Master!� Because of the complexity of
the charms, hexes, and curses protecting his private supply closet, Snape knew
that no other staff member � aside from McGonagall, Flitwick, and himself � had
the expertise, the finesse, the raw talent, to break the protective
spells.� The third and final person was
a student, and his only true suspect � Hermione Granger.

And why not?� She�d stolen from him before!� Her second year she�d stolen an ingredient
with the aid of a Potter-Weasley supplied distraction.� But that was from his classroom cabinet, and he only put cautionary charms on that so
dopes like Longbottom wouldn�t accidentally kill themselves while walking
in.� They were simple, maybe fifth
year-level.� But his private cabinet had
Death Eater-level protective spells cast on it.� And Granger had been the only student to successfully steal from
him in the past...

Anger had the best of his
control now, and though he realized � if caught � he could be fired for this
outrageously inappropriate act, he kept himself hidden, in the darkest corner �
silent and still.� In his wrathful state
he thought to retrieve what was stolen from him and then confront the Mudblood
Granger bitch about it.� The plan was
flawed, for when his anger cooled � and he couldn�t find any trace of the
Jasperweed � he was most definitely in more of a predicament than he�d thought
he�d be.

He was trapped in the Head
Girl�s room.

In a dark corner.

Under an Invisibility Cloak.

Granger had walked in on him
while he was sorting through her potions ingredients in her cabinet.� He quickly darted into the dark corner and
threw on his Invisibility Cloak, willing himself to be as silent as he could
even as his heart beat fast and irregular.�
He couldn�t stand being caught by that damned Mudblood, and honestly
didn�t know how he�d fare in a duel with her.�
That might be what scared him the most.�
He didn�t really know � NO ONE really knew � how good she was until she
did something to impress the hell out of them.

She yawned and pulled a pin
out of her hair, sticking it in her mouth and scratching the back of her head
as she unloaded her book bag on her desk.�
With a quick charm she Banished the hairpin to her vanity � it landed
with a clink next to her brushes.� He
didn�t know she OWNED brushes...� With
another great yawn she began unbuttoning her now wrinkled school shirt.� She kicked her shoes off into her closet,
tossed her socks into her clothes hamper (they disappeared to be cleaned by
house elves) and began walking directly towards him.� This was most likely a side of Granger no one had ever seen �
hair tasseled, shirt unbuttoned (Snape gasped at the youthful beauty of her
honey skin and the generous swell of her chest), and completely unguarded.

Granger grabbed a wrapped box
from the seat he was hiding behind and sat in the maroon and gold chair.� Gingerly, she opened the card atop it and
read aloud, �Happy Birthday, Hermione.�

She obviously knew who sent it
without it being signed, for she jumped up and rushed with it into her
bathroom.� Snape knew he should
leave.� He should leave now while he
wouldn�t be caught.� But something kept
him planted in his spot, unable (but more than that, unwilling) to move.� Curiosity killed the cat � this he
knew.� But...would it kill the bat?

Snape was beginning to feel
rather sly.� In fact, a small smirk was
sneaking onto his face.� This � if what was happening was indeed what he thought was happening � could be the
ultimate thing to hold over Granger and her partner in crime�s head.� He hoped so much that it was Potter.� He was ready to laugh aloud at his own
cleverness and golden opportunity when the bathroom door opened and Hermione
Granger walked out in a white bathrobe and a towel perched atop her head.� With a flick of her wand a machine in the
corner began to emit a soothing, slow music.

Hermione smiled and sat
herself at her vanity.� Snape � having
never seen any sort of ritual as this � watched with fascination as Granger let
the towel out of her hair and soaked up the excess dampness with it.� She ran a comb through her hair several
times, wincing as she ran into tangles and occasionally spraying her hair with
some mixture to help along the process.�
Done with that, she sighed and rubbed her eyes.� Rising from the vanity, Granger opened a
drawer from the cabinet Snape had been searching and pulled out two handles,
preformed a Switching Spell, and put the old handles back in the drawer.

Ingenious!� The reason Snape couldn�t find the Essence
of Jasperweed in that cabinet was it wasn�t in that EXACT cabinet.� ...But only an advanced witch or wizard
would be able to choreograph that sort of complex spell.� No seventh year would be able to...� Just how smart was the Granger girl?

Instead of his hidden
Jasperweed, Granger pulled out a wine glass.�
Leaning forward, Snape saw there were at least thirty bottles of wine in
her hidden little cabinet � lined up against the doors, stacked on each
other.� This was a major violation of
the school rules.� But he smiled smartly
when he noted that his collection was ten times that of hers.

She sighed quietly as she
popped the cork on a half-empty bottle and poured the shimmering liquid into
the glass.� Taking a deep breath of the
wine smell, she spun the liquid and drank a small sip.� She closed her eyes and sighed.� She shut the cabinet and took the glass with
her to the vanity, sipping from it lightly.

Snape had to shake himself out
of shock while Granger applied make-up to her face.� Who was this girl?� This woman?� What was going on here?� Taking a moment to analyze what he was
seeing, Snape reflected back.� A bossy
know-it-all whose best friends were Potter and Weasley (WHY?!), sorted into
Gryffindor (but maybe only because she was a Mudblood � as a pureblood could
she have been a Slytherin?), Head Girl (but breaking all the rules � wine,
stealing from him), the best potions student he�d ever taught, and possibly the
brightest witch of her age � Miss Hermione Granger was nearly perfect.

And one of the most beautiful
women he�d ever seen.

Snape swallowed hard as he looked
at Granger again.� She had done
something to her hair � turning it from a ball of fluffy fuzz to a mass of
silky, large, smooth curls that wound down her back.� Her eyes were wide and dark, and her pale skin shone in the
moonlight.� He knew he shouldn�t think
of her like that � he�d never thought of her like that before.� Or any student for that matter.� But Granger � Hermione � was different.� Brilliant.�
Beautiful.� Powerful.

There was a light knock on the
door and Granger stiffened.� A flick of
her wand and the room was dark, lit by only a few, dull candles.� Snape felt himself wishing, hoping, praying
it wasn�t Potter.� He didn�t know why.� Was this competition again?� He did
know that he didn�t want Potter to have her.� She was too good for him, for one thing.� For another...well, for another...he...

Perhaps, at that moment,
everything slowed down to several thousand times slower than the regular
passage of time.� Hermione turned, back
to the door, and unknotted the tie of her robe.� Snape swallowed hard as he saw what had been in the box.

�Nothing�s gonna change my
world...� Images of broken light which
dance before me like a million eyes, they call me on and on across the
universe...�⁽¹⁾ sang the machine quietly in the corner.

Her chest was cased in a peach
colored corset, white lace tied up the front and mother-of-pearl clasps held up
her creamy, slinky undergarments.�
White, smooth stockings ended mid-thigh, haphazardly clipped to the
corset.� As she walked to open the door,
Snape noticed the click of impossibly high heals.� Snape wished, for just one moment, that he was Harry Potter, and
Hermione Granger was opening the door for him.�
She looked so perfect, so innocent � yet completely sensual.

She took several deep breaths
before she opened the door, and Snape�s heart raged with jealousy as Harry
Potter walked through the doorway.� His
stupid, messy black hair, insufferable smirk � Snape made a mental note to be
completely vicious to Potter the next time he saw him.

�Hermione...� Potter whispered,
his eyes wide.

She smiled at him, blushing a
little.� �Do you like it?�

Potter snorted, running his
hand through his hair.� �Like it?� You�re gorgeous.� Beautiful.� Sexy.� You look fantastic.�

Hermione smiled up at him
adoringly.� Then, taking his hand, stood
on her toes to kiss him.� Snape didn�t
think he could take this.� His gut was
being wrenched from him at this moment.�
He rather wished he were dead.

�Hermione,� Potter said
abruptly, putting his hand over her lips.�
She plopped down on her heals, eyes confused.� �I have to tell you something.�

She nodded.

�I...this is really hard.� Can we sit?�

�Harry?� she asked, her voice
scared.� �What�s wrong?�

Snape watched angrily as
Potter led her to the bed and they sat, his hand still in hers. ��Hermione,� Potter began.� �You know how I feel about you ��

�And you know how I feel about
you.�
Harry, I love ��

�Please!� Hermione, don�t make this any harder...than
it already is.�� Snape frowned as
Hermione�s bright face turned dark.� �I
saw Cho today.�� Hermione�s face barely
registered her surprise.� Her eyes
did.� �When I went to Hogsmeade we
started talking...and, well, we�re going to give it another go.�

Hermione�s face was blank with
fury.� �Get out,� she said quietly,
standing and wrapping her arms about her waist.� �Just go, Harry.�

�Hermione...� he pleaded
softly.� �Don�t do this.�� He stepped forward and put his hand on her
arm.� �I still love you...�

She nodded, not facing
him.� �I just want to be alone,� she
murmured.

�Okay,� Potter said
softly.� He sighed.� Then he walked out of the room, closing the
door quietly behind him.

Hermione was still for a few
moments.� Her eyes were closed, and she
wasn�t crying.� But when she opened her
eyes, Snape was witness to a horrible, terrifying anger that seemed to burn off
Hermione�s very skin.� Reaching towards
her vanity, her wand practically rocketed to her outstretched hand.� With long, angry strides, Hermione stalked
to the door, eyes blazing.� But when she
reached the door she merely collapsed against it and pounded on it with one
hand.� She slid down, her cheek pressed
against the wood, and two silent tears fell from her eyes.

�Bastard,� she whispered.� And for a few moments she just sat there,
tears falling down her face, looking so utterly miserable that Snape wanted to
throw off his cloak and...and, well, he didn�t really know what...

Slowly, she got down on hands
and knees and pushed herself to a standing position.� Heels still clicking softly, she wobbled to the cabinet and
proceeded to down the nearly-empty bottle of white wine in one swallow...

...And then threw the empty
bottle, with surprising force, against what she thought was an unoccupied wall,
but was actually Severus Snape�s forehead.

PART II

A soft guitar wafted through Snape�s
conscious.� His head hurt like a son of
a bitch, and he had a sneaking suspicion he was concussed, because of the way
he couldn�t seem to focus...

Attempting to clear his head,
Snape rose a little, but was immediately pushed down into the feathery softness
of the bed he was lying in.� �Do lie
down, Professor,� a soft, nervous voice said.�
�I believe you�re concussed, but, fortunately, I�ve got a Restorative
Draft in my supplies.�

That was most certainly NOT
Madam Pomfrey.� Crooking his neck he saw
Hermione Granger (who had thrown on a silky, quite short, robe) measuring an
off-orange-colored liquid into a wooden cup.�
She clicked her way over to him and tipped the cup to his lips, holding
the back of his head.� She looked into
his eyes imploringly as he drank.� After
he�d finished it she sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.� For a long time she said nothing, and her
potion worked with speed.� Snape closed
his eyes and remained motionless, letting the warm, healing sensation calm him.

When he reopened his eyes he
unfortunately opened his mouth as well.�
�Miss Granger, clothe your self properly immediately.�

At this, Hermione went a
little pink.� But she stood, frowned
over him, and replied in a biting tone, �Why?�
You�ve already seen it all anyway.�

With a huff she walked to her
cabinet and poured herself a generous amount of wine.� �What are you doing here, Professor?� she asked him softly.� �I�d rather like to do this,� she motioned
to the wine, �alone.�

Snape rose and threw his legs
over the edge of her four-poster.� She
wasn�t looking at him anymore, but facing the window, letting the light bathe
her and her blood-red glass of wine.� He
wasn�t sure what made him say anything after that.� He wasn�t sure what had gotten into him � he hoped it was the
potion having disturbing side affects.�
She took a large sip of wine and sighed, tilting her head towards
him.� �Unless you want a glass.� I�ve got some wonderful �79 � �

�I�ll have a glass of what
you�re drinking,� he said, perhaps more sharply then he intended.� She gave him a blank look � he couldn�t even
see her thoughts through it.� Then she
Summoned a glass and poured it nearly as full as hers.

�Have a seat, sir,� she said,
a chair zooming out of the corner of the room to meet an equally speedy
glass-top table.� She sat in one chair,
moonlight streaming on her in a single column.�
Then she crossed her long, honey-tanned legs and regarded him with her
deep brown eyes.

At first he wobbled, but he
made his way gracefully to the table and sat on the comfortable chair she�d
provided for him.� The wine was a fine
variety, not sharp or bitter, but smooth and comfortable � something close
friends might drink.� Hermione kept eye
contact with him, but Snape knew better to try and use Occlemency or Legilemency
on her.� He wasn�t positive it would
work anyway.� So they sat in a
semi-awkward silence for several minutes.�
Hermione continued to drink heavily from her glass.

�I�ve decided,� she said
slowly, carefully choosing her words Snape saw, �that I don�t care why you were
in my rooms.� In fact, I really don�t
want you to tell me.� I�m not going to
say or do anything about it.� I�m not
going to hang it over your head or blackmail you.� If you try to Obliviate me we might have to duel.� However...��
She said this with some dark mirth in her eyes.� �I�m not in the mood.�� She paused for a long drink, finishing her
cup and pouring dutifully from the newly opened bottle.� �Would you like another glass?� she asked.

Snape looked down at his
glass.� It was as empty as hers.� He offered it to her and didn�t say a word
to her diatribe.� �Teenage drama...� she
said musingly.� �How excruciatingly
disgusting it must be for you to walk down the halls and know half the students
don�t even bathe after fucking one another. �That they plow into each other with the fervor of rutting
pigs...and don�t even wash their fucking
hands...�� She snorted and took a long
drink.

Snape couldn�t have agreed
more, however.

�How pathetic I must seem,�
she mused to herself.� �I�m twenty,� she
said sharply.� �Did they tell you
that?�� She snorted derisively.� �Twenty!�
Illegal Time-Turner use for three and a half years will do that to a
girl.� I could be married.� I could be divorced already!� I keep telling myself, �N.E.W.T.s and you�re
done, Hermione!�� Only a few more
months!�� But the truth is, it�s always
going to be just a few more months or a few more drinks or a few more years or
a few more pages...� Nothing has been
right for a very long time...�

Snape regarded her with hooded
eyes.� She spoke the truth.� The unadulterated truth.� It was always just a little more.� He�d felt that way pretty much his whole
life.� It didn�t really surprise him to
think that Hermione felt similarly.�
They had so many other things in common.

She clicked her tongue inside
her mouth and cocked an eyebrow.� �At
any rate,� she continued, a bit more controlled.� �Both of us have a lot to lose if this �incident� becomes public.� So let�s just let bygones be bygones, get
drunk, and fuck.�

Snape had never felt the
sensation of wine coming out his nose, but with that last remark he was sure
he�d come very close.� He coughed into
the back of his wrist and set his half-empty wine glass on the table.

�Excuse me,� he said slowly,
his voice a little gravelly.� He cleared
his throat and gave Hermione a serious look from across the glass-top
table.� She gazed at him over her
loosely-held wine, her lips pursed with certainty.� He couldn�t deny that she looked amazingly alluring with her legs
crossed, a hint of her garter showing underneath her silken robe.� The curvy lines of her neck and shoulders,
playing down to her bust, and the swerving influx of her waist were a more than
welcome sight.

�Aren�t you afraid I�ll hurt
you?� he said smoothly, regaining his composure.� �I�m a criminal, you know.�
A traitor.� A murderer.�

She raised an eyebrow and took
a light sip of wine.� �You were cleared
of those charges, Professor.�

Snape exhaled through his
nose.� �So I was...so I was...�

For a while she merely stared
at him, her chocolaty eyes looking almost black in the dim light.� Then she finished off her wine glass (her
third or forth � Snape had lost count) and stood, letting her silky robe slide
off her shoulders.� For a moment she
just looked, her hips cocked to the side and her lips pursed.� She seemed to be considering him, not
undressing him, but certainly attempting to assess him.� Her eyes grazed over his broad shoulders,
slim hips, and long legs.� She took in
his fingers and his mouth, then brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes
and strutted over to him.

Slowly, Snape set down his
wine glass down on the table and uncrossed his legs, then reminded himself to
thank the gods for his amazing luck.�
She was staring him down lustily, one high-heeled foot on either side of
his.� He ran his eyes up from her knees
to the tops of her breasts, finally to her lips, and then her eyes.� Her steady fingers ran down his neck, and
electric shocks jolted under his skin.�
After she had unbuttoned the top few clasps on his coat, she hooked her
finger underneath it and pulled him up.

Hermione�s eyes never left his
and her hand snuck its way down his shoulders and arm to take hold of his
hand.� She led him to her bed once more,
a feral look in her lust-heavy eyes.�
She wasn�t rough, but she was demanding as pushed him down on the bed
and leapt gracefully atop him, her face so close to his he could feel the heat
of her wine-soaked breath.� Snape let
out a soft hiss and closed his eyes in ecstasy as she ground herself against
the already straining bulge on his pants.�
Her nose brushed his; her silky lips against his cheek for a soft moment
before he snapped his head to the side and captured her mouth in an
electrifying kiss.

He heard her moan, and felt
her experienced fingers make quick work of his outer coat.� He sat up, her legs still straddling him, as
she helped him out of his coat and white undershirt.� Snape kicked his shoes off as artfully as he could, and found
himself � once again � poised under her, pressed into the soft bedding as she
ground her hips against his.� Every
connection built up the fire burning under his skin.� It somehow comforted him to know that Hermione Granger was
experienced in this sort of thing.�
Snape was by no means a virgin, but physical contact of the romantic
sort was few and far between for him.�
Hermione, obviously a beautiful, attractive young witch, seemed to have
passion and experience working in her favor.�
And the fact that Snape didn�t want to have to worry about her being
emotionally attached to him was another thing he was thankful for.

Somewhere in their foreplay,
Hermione had managed to loosen her corset enough so that Snape could slide it
over her shoulders and head.� For a
moment, Snape took in the glorious sight of her.� Perched on his hips, her hands resting on her own thighs, Snape
gazed at her beautifully round breasts, admiring how the candles made her skin
glow.� And she even had the modesty to
give a small smile and stare at the blank space beside his head, her cheeks a
little rosy.

Snape took this moment to flip
her on her back higher on the bed.� She
bit her lip tenderly as she looked up at him, her foot running up and down his
calf.� Her smell was driving Snape
crazy.� His finely tuned nose picked up
her skin, the slight chamomile and jasmine scent of her soap, the heavy, sweet
alcohol on her breath, the freshly laundered sheets�� She kissed him with fervor, with abandon, their naked chests
pressed against each other.� She touched
him like she wanted him, like she needed him, like she was devastatingly
attracted to him.� The rhythm of their
hips slowed to an ocean rocking as he felt her fingers travel lower to unbutton
his pants.

He planted hot, searing kisses
down her neck, finally taking her fresh, budding nipple into his mouth. �She arched beneath him, her breathy moaning
urging him on.� The taste of her skin,
the measure of her breathing, the sound of her moans all fueled the fire
underneath his skin.� He felt like a
phoenix, burning, smoldering, preparing to explode and be reborn anew.� Snape took great pleasure in sliding his
fingers under the elastic of her panties and sliding them down her legs.� Her stockings were falling down since the
removal of her corset and the straps that held them up, but Snape left them
where they were and shucked off his pants and boxers.

She looked at him the same as
before, the heat and urgency in her eyes made him want to taunt her.� Snape smirked darkly as he listed to her
hiss � a sharp intake of breath � as he rubbed her clit softly with his long
fingers.� Her hips bucked slightly, and
she clenched the bed sheets in her fists, eyes screwed shut.� He played for a while, making her moan,
wetting his fingers with her juices.

�Yessss,� she slurred as he
positioned the head of his manhood at her entrance.

When he pushed in he thought
the friction would kill him.� She locked
her legs around his waist, Snape growled in frustration.� It took every ounce of his control to begin
moving in and out.� She was warm and
tight, and more than enthusiastic.� Hermione
was keeping with his rhythm, kissing him with the energy of youth, and digging
her nails � ever so lightly � into the scarred flesh of his back.

�Professor,� she whined softly
into his ear.� �Harder.� Pleassssse��

And he didn�t need to be told
more than once.� He drove into her, and
drove all his frustrations, all his worries, all his annoyances out.� Her moaning grew louder, and the nails in
his back dug in deeper.� He could tell
by her breathing, by the way her eyelids fluttered that she was close.

�Please,� she whispered
urgently.� �Now.� Yes, there.�
Oh, my God, please, now.�

Her muscles grew taunt and she
clung onto him desperately, a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead.� Snape gripped her harshly and kissed her,
his tongue plunging into her mouth as she moaned.� When he knew she couldn�t take any more Snape felt her inner
muscles grip him tightly.� He came
slightly afterwards in a wave of unexpected blinding lights and euphoria.

Slowly, his mind refocused and
his breathing became steadier.� Hermione
was still clutching to him, her nails not quite so deep into his back.� He let her breathing steady, the pants of
air on his chest cooling him slightly.�
Then he did something that surprised even him.� He kissed her forehead, her nose, and both her cheeks before
giving her another searing kiss on her trembling lips.� He then rolled over, wrapping her in his
arms and holding her close as her breathing slowed and her eyes closed.

Severus Snape lay awake for a
long, long time after that, feeling Hermione�s heart beat against his and
finally reaching over to pull blankets over the both of them.� When he thought about all the possible
outcomes he would have expected for tonight, this was certainly in the realm of
impossibility.� Part of him wondered if it
was simply an elaborate wet dream.� Part
of him wondered what emptiness he would find if he woke up.� Snape looked down on Hermione�s sleeping
face.� Her lips were curled in a slight
smile.� Even in sleep she was
perfect.� He ran his fingers through her
silky curls and inhaled the light scent of jasmine.

It was then that Snape
realized something quite miraculous was happening.� Snape was quite content at the moment.� Calm.� Even�happy.� It was more than this thought that scared
him, but the thought of losing this happiness was terrifying.� He�d had so little joy in his life it was
hard to imagine that in the morning, when she woke up, Hermione was probably
never going to look at him like she did last night.� She would never allow him to touch her, kiss her�nothing.�

PART III

Hermione Granger never really
had hangovers.� Sometimes her stomach
felt a little queasy, but she never vomited or had pounding headaches like some
of her friends.� So that morning she
felt perfectly relaxed and healthy as she woke up.� That is, until the events of last night came rushing up to meet
her.

She inwardly gave herself a
slap in the face as she crawled out of bed, braving a sleeping Snape in the
process.� She considered just picking up
some clothes and leaving.� He could wake
up and feel no guilt or uncertainty as he got dressed and left.� Snape probably thought she was a disgusting
tramp after last night.� All the events
came up to her so quickly she could barely process them.� She didn�t want to know, or remember.

Hermione slipped on Snape�s
white, button-down undershirt and a pair of clean underwear, throwing the
stockings to the far side of the room.�
Then she sat herself at the glass-top table and crossed her legs,
looking speculatively at the sleeping Snape.�
His pale skin and dark hair contrasted with the muted green of her
sheets.� She remembered the devastating
skill of his fingers and squirmed a little in her seat.� He looked about a thousand years younger as
he slept.� There wasn�t a smirk or frown
or sneer on his face.� His eyes weren�t
manic or sarcastic or hypercritical.� He
wasn�t uptight or edgy in his sleep.� He
was downright handsome, in her opinion.

She yawned, scratching the
nape of her neck and running her hands through her hair.� She supposed she looked like an absolute
train wreck, but as she glanced in the mirror, she found that she actually was
quite sexy this morning.� Hermione
smirked a little.

It wasn�t just that Snape was
still asleep in her bed, it was that Hermione rather liked that he was asleep
in her bed.� Last night had been
confusing and terrible and wonderful and beautiful.� Her feelings for Harry had always been uncertain.� But he�d shown interest, shown her that he
could get over Cho and make a proper girlfriend out of her.� No more broom closets and secret
rendezvous�a real relationship.� She
really hated him for a moment there.�
She might have actually harmed him�but he was still her friend.� Too many years of friendship laid the
groundwork for their relationship to just throw it all away.� But Hermione wasn�t good with rejection.

It was almost certain
rejection with Snape.� He was old enough
to be her father.� He was moody and
horrid and cruel.� But Hermione had a feeling
he purposefully let all his negative characteristics overshadow his positive
ones.� He was intelligent � brilliant,
really.� He was strong-minded,
determined, willful, and well-read.� And
passionate.� She chuckled lightly.� Yes, he certainly was at that.� A finger pressed to her lips as she
considered him.� Ultimately, it would be
up to Snape.� She couldn�t make him want
her.� Honestly, how often would he be
around to throw wine bottles at and seduce in the same night?

Hermione resolved to see this
one through.� She summoned some hot
coffee, croissants, and fruit from the kitchens, arranging them on the table
before her.� Then she plucked one of the
books from her �To-Read� list off the shelf and slid her reading glasses onto
the bridge of her nose.� She would wait.

As it turned out, though, she
didn�t have to wait too long�

She was just filling up her
second cup of coffee when Snape began to rouse from his sleep.� He looked around a bit frantically at first
until his eyes found hers.� He regarded her
carefully, noting his shirt and her book.�
His eyes narrowed as he threw off the sheets and walked � unabashedly
nude � around the bed to his boxers.� He
slipped them on, his eyes still on her as she watched him, and came around to
the table and sat opposite her.

�Good morning,� she said
pleasantly, looking at him over her reading glasses.� �Breakfast?�

He grunted.� Apparently, Snape wasn�t a morning person
like Hermione was.� Unexpectedly, an owl
flew through the window and landed on the table.� It carried the Daily Prophet.�
Hermione reached over into her boudoir and flipped the bird a Sickle as
Snape unfolded the paper and filled up a cup of coffee, dipping his croissant
in it.

Hermione studied him for a
moment as the owl flapped out of the room.�
He snorted loudly.� �Can you
believe the rubbish that passes for news these days?� he asked lightly.� He tipped the paper so she could read the
headline.� �World�s most dangerous
criminal instructing your children.�

Hermione raised an
eyebrow.� �Indeed,� she said
softly.� �Pass the cream, please.�

He pushed it across the table
in her direction, eyes never leaving the paper.� Hermione smiled as she poured cream liberally into her coffee,
watching as it swirled into tan.
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Stolen from Snape

PART I

PART II

PART III