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And They Didn\'t Live Happily Ever After	By : ElizabethStump Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 90306 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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
- 29
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"And They Didn't Live Happily Ever After"

Chapter Thirty
“Teach Me Tonight"
Recommended songs to listen to during the dance lesson:
"Nuages" (recommend the performance by Django Reinhardt and Stephane Grappelli)
"He's Funny That Way"
"Embraceable You"
"Manoir de Mes Reves" (recommend the performance by Django Reinhardt and Stephane Grappelli)
"Teach Me Tonight" (recommend performances by Ann Hampton Calloway, Dinah Washington, Ella Fitzgerald or Chaka Khan)
Other slow big band or old standards of a slow and romantic nature may be used to “enhance” the mood.
For a little visual inspiration, I quickly put together a video of photos mixed with the fanart posted so far to the song “Nuages”:
http://atdlhea-betz.tumblr.com/post/130888943890/just-a-little-mood-music-while-severus-teaches

Disclaimer: I just borrow the concepts and characters, I don't own them. May Miss Rowling continue to let us toy with her playthings.

============

Ascending the inner atrium steps of the Red Ginseng building, Hermione wondered if maybe she should have worn different shoes. While getting dressed, she had decided that if she was going to learn how to dance it might as well be in dress heels, since she'd be wearing a pair on the night of her anniversary. As she silently cursed to herself, annoyed at how the heel of her left shoe kept finding all the spots in which to lodge itself on her walk from her flat, Hermione was forced to take one step back and wiggle her foot to freedom once again.

"There's a reason why sensible shoes are sensible," the frustrated witch groused under her breath.

Once standing in front of Calleo's door, she let out one long relaxing breath. Beyond the door lay Hermione's wonderland. At night, she would replay her latest visit in her head over and over as she drifted off to sleep. She momentarily pondered what memories she would walk away with tonight.

Knock-Knock. Knock-Knock.

Calleo opened the door and welcomed her inside.

"It's good to see you again, Hermione." Severus meant it sincerely, though he hated to admit it to himself. He bowed slightly as Hermione entered his flat.

Severus could have dispensed with such a silly and old-fashioned gesture by now, but he enjoyed watching her bashful demeanor when he employed his most formal and gentlemanly manners.

Hermione always felt a little flustered by some of the little things he did for her. She wanted to tell him it wasn't necessary for him to be so formal with her, but she basked in the attentions Calleo gave her. It was those small things that added to the illusion of her place away from reality.

As Severus helped Hermione with her cloak, he noted that she seemed a little bit taller; his suspicions were confirmed when he caught sight of her shoes. Once her cloak was put away, they sat on the settee for a while, allowing Hermione to unwind for a bit.

"And how has your week been?" Severus asked, knowing it was nothing as bad as the previous week.

Slumping against the back of the settee, Hermione closed her eyes, tipped back her head and dramatically exhaled, "Jesus, Merlin and Circe! What have I done to offend the Fates to be saddled with Trevor Spawn?"

"That good? Tell me how you really feel," the dark-haired wizard dryly remarked.

Hermione began laughing, feeling the tension release from Calleo's lighthearted jibe. "Oh," she sighed once more. "Thank you. I needed that." She beamed a warm smile at him, reaching across the settee and squeezing his hand in appreciation.

"That's what I'm here for." He enjoyed the momentary contact that she initiated.

"You wouldn't begin to believe the week I've had," the witch exclaimed.

"Try me," he countered.

"Well, we had a shipment of jacaranda dew come in, and the clumsy dolt spilled it all over my lab," she began explaining. Calleo winced noticeably. "Well, after he tracked his precious boots through it and left sticky footprints all over the place, I was tempted to tell him he had to clean up the whole lab… with no magic."

Severus chuckled heartily, realizing Hermione sounded just like him in the Staff Room when talking about Longbottom or the Weasley twins. He could empathize with the many times his Potions classroom had been temporarily ruined, covered in Merlin knew what sort of odd goo that some student had concocted in a moment of careless stupidity.

"It's going to be a week before I can walk through my own lab without needing to apply an anti-sticking charm to the bottom of my shoes. I just pray I remember to end the charm before walking back to my office, or I'll fall down arse over elbow in the hall. No number of Scourgifys and cleaning solutions will make it come up any faster until the dew dries and dissipates. No wonder just about every adhesion paste out there has this stuff in it."

'And people wondered why I was in such a bad mood all those years while putting up with those redheaded twin devils and Mr. "Oops" Longbottom,' Severus thought to himself.

"It is a very effective adhesive ingredient, though I might recommend using nail polish remover to get rid of it," Severus advised her.

"Nail polish remover?"

"Well, the dew is used as a bonding agent in nail polish to prevent chipping," he mentioned offhandedly, remembering how much Miss Brown complained about how she couldn't get the jacaranda dew off her hands when she had first started working with it.

"Really?" she asked, looking at Calleo quizzically.

'Damn, did I just tip my hand too much?' the wizard thought, as he began to wonder if he had said too much.

"Or so I've been told," he added, hoping to throw her off his scent for the time being. The Potions master was not ready to reveal his identity yet. As much as he would like to get on with the business of obtaining his freedom, there was some solace in Hermione's visits that made staying in England a few weeks longer that much more bearable.

"I never would have thought of that. Thank you," Hermione said, smiling at him once more. "So then after that, the tedious twit botches three batches testing wool of bat. I mean, how can anyone not be able to do it correctly, especially anyone that was able to get into a N.E.W.T. level class to begin with?" Hermione said with a shake of her head.

"He shows up at the stroke of nine, and he's out the door before the clock finishes chiming five," she continued on her rant in a civil tone, too tired to raise her voice. "So I'm left there to finish up what he hasn't cocked up during the day, double-checking every test he has done to make sure he isn't going to be the reason for a mass outbreak of poisoning from common potions."

"Why don’t you just recommend his removal?" Severus advised her.

"I would, but my yearly review is coming up, and it will be solely based on whether I can train this bumbling... incompetent... daft... narcissistic imbecile. It's been two years since I've had a raise, and I am more than deserving of one. Last year, my boss said it wasn’t in the budget, but to 'keep up the good work.' Fat lie that was. She got a brand new custom carved oak desk. I hope she gets splinters in her arse from it the next time Mr. Spawn is banging her on it," Hermione said rather tartly.

Severus continued to chuckle through her tirade. "Oh dear," he said with as much sympathy as he could muster, until he realized it gave him a little pleasure to know he had not been the only one to suffer fools where Potions are concerned.

"Then during lunch yesterday, my friend tells me after a rather spectacular rant, that I sound just like my old Potions professor," she added with emphasis, in a not very complimentary way.

Severus stopped chuckling. Sitting up a little straighter while trying to remain jovial, he asked, "How so?"

"Let's see, I called Mr. Spawn an impudent little shit – though I doubt my Potions professor would ever use such language."

'Only when the students were not around,' Severus thought.

"Then I referred to him as an imbecilic, puerile nitwit," Hermione said smiling at her own remark. "A vacuous, sycophantic cretin, and – my favorite – an incompetent moron who would better serve the Ministry by standing in the corner as a cloak rack."

Severus laughed wholeheartedly. "I think he would have been rather proud of you for that last remark you made, based on your previous descriptions of him." He rather liked that last remark, and would have to remember it next time he had to deal with the extremely dim, who periodically plagued his life.

He was amazed. She had a rather sharp tongue when thoroughly provoked, but then, so did he, and he was much more easily provoked than most. Still, he was unsettled by the notion that Ginny was dropping blatant hints about him behind his back, when he had made it clear that he was going to set the pace of his own unveiling. Severus wondered if Draco put his lover up to it, or if it was a spur of the moment comment. During his meeting with Ginny earlier that day, the redheaded witch had made no mention of that part of her Wednesday lunch with Hermione. He pondered why she had left out that detail.

"Well, you are here now, safe from the Trevor Spawns of the world. And you say he has an apprenticeship lined up next spring? With whom?" Severus queried, curious as to who would be saddled with such a clueless oaf, or willing to take him on at the right price.

"Albert Dobmeir," Hermione answered glumly. "You know I owled him twice for an apprenticeship. The first time, he didn't even respond to my owl. The second time, he said that he wasn't going to be taking on any apprentices for the next ten years. All of a sudden, he changed his mind, and not even three years later. I think a few Galleons had greased his palm in order to change his mind; that, and Mr. Spawn's pure-blood connections that he so frequently tells me about."

Severus knew Albert Dobmeir personally under his real identity, and even had a correspondence with the man under his nom de guerre. He hated thinking that someone as incompetent as Mr. Spawn was going to be given a chance to study under a great master of Dobmeir's capabilities. Bribes were not exactly something Dobmeir accepted to take on an apprentice either. He would have to owl the man to find out more.

"We are not sure of the reasons behind Mr. Dobmeir accepting Mr. Spawn as an apprentice," Severus said in defense of his colleague – while trying to remain impartially speculative, "but I'm sure there was a valid reason why he suddenly changed his mind." He wondered if Calpurnia Fudge might have had a hand in Dobmeir's refusal of Hermione's application for an apprenticeship.

"After this past week, I could use another trip to the spa for another massage," Hermione mused aloud, rolling her neck in order to help relax the muscles.

"When was the last time you went?" Severus asked, knowing exactly when she had gone.

"Last Saturday. A friend took me as a treat." Hermione brought her hand up to her neck, and began rubbing at the knot of tension that began building since Monday.

Severus wasn't sure if this was Hermione's way of hinting she'd like another neck massage, consciously or unconsciously, or if she was merely trying to self-alleviate some of the muscle tension. Either way, Severus was more than happy to help her and hopefully get another peek down the front of her blouse.

"Would you like another neck rub?" Severus asked, hoping not to sound too eager nor too disinterested.

"I wouldn't want to impose. You're cooking dinner for me, and then dance lessons later. Really, Calleo, you'll spoil me!" Hermione protested playfully.

"No trouble at all. If it's any consolation, I have very few clients now who ask for massage anymore," he explained. Katherine Bigelow was the last regular client to whom Severus would give massages, and he didn't want to lose his hand strength once again. "It's a way for me to stay in practice."

Hermione shrugged in a non-committal manner. "You're twisting my arm, Calleo. But if you really insist…" She flashed him a mischievous smile, letting him know the facetiousness of her statement, then added so that there would be no misunderstanding, "Yes, that would be heaven. Please."

Severus rose and walked behind the settee. Once he placed his hands on her shoulders, he immediately dug his hands into the knots of tension, nailing the trigger points, making her shoulders involuntarily seize and her breath shudder with pleasure on the verge of pain.

"Are you toying with me, Hermione?" he purred in a low and dangerous voice, yet keeping his tone equally playful. He accentuated his remark by digging his thumbs into the key area where Hermione’s upper Trapezius, Splenius capitus and the Rhomboideus minor met parallel to the second thoracic vertebra. Severus was rewarded with her stilted incoherent grunts due to the pain, but he knew that she would soon experience the release of pleasurable endorphins throughout her system.

When Calleo's fingers dug into her flesh, it felt like daggers being driven into her skin, but the tingling rush made it worth the moment of pain she endured as her breath hitched.

Once she found her breath, she groaned in half-misery and half-delight, "Are you angry with me for toying with you? If not, I'd hate to see what you could do with those hands if I upset you."

"Am I hurting you?" he asked gently, realizing he may have played a little too rough with Hermione.

"I'm just so tense, but I know you have to sometimes do a little intense pressure to get things loosened up," she said, still half-grunting. "The few times I have gotten a massage, I always have deep tissue work done in order to get the muscles to relax at all."

"Then I shall endeavor to do my best to cause as little pain as possible. I hope I wasn't too rough in my play with you," he admitted.

Hermione hummed a little. "I know it was all in jest. I did tease you a little, though, setting the tone, so it was entirely my fault," she confessed.

Severus flattened the heel of his hand along the top of her shoulder to spread the pressure along the muscle, while still hoping to cause it to relax.

"What muscle is that, that I can feel all the way down to the middle of my back, when you first pressed your thumbs?" the curious witch asked.

"Rhomboideus minor," Severus informed her. "I'm surprised you don't know. If you want to become a Potions mistress, one of the things you must learn is every muscle, bone, organ, tendon, artery, lymph and nerve in the human body." Then added at the last moment, "Or so I was told by a Potions master once."

There was a mutual silence as he continued to work on Hermione's neck and shoulders until the major knots had been loosened. Unfortunately for Severus, the cut of her blouse did not afford him any views down her front.

As he rested his hands on her shoulders, Severus asked, "How is that? Better?"

Craning her neck back to look at him, she grabbed his hand and rested her cheek along the back of his hand. Giving a soft smile, she said gently, "Yes. Thank you."

He studied her serene face and the look of contented happiness on her face. It tore at his heart that she would never look at him that way once he revealed his true identity to her. Severus Snape had made many women smile the same smile Hermione was wearing, but none just for the pleasure of his company; they were dreamy smiles caused by a few orgasms and some sexual gratification.

In need of a moment to collect his thoughts, Severus said, "I was just about to begin dinner. Why don't you read for a bit? I have a few Potions journals and the latest Eccentric Elixirs for you to read."

Something flashed across Hermione's face. Severus couldn't pinpoint the emotion, until she spoke.

"Do you need any help in the kitchen?" the witch asked, something akin to hope in her eyes.

"I don't want to bother you. You've been on your feet all day dealing with the likes of Trevor Spawn. You are here as my guest, and as such, you should relax," he replied. Severus knew Hermione did all the cooking at home, and he did not want to burden her with more cooking on the one night a week she could count on to rest.

"Could I at least keep you company?" she asked a bit more directly.

"But of course."

Frankly speaking, there was nothing for Hermione to do in the kitchen but watch. Severus had prepared everything before she had arrived, so that all he had to do was begin cooking. Once the water was boiling, Severus put in the rice and covered it, to let it simmer as he prepared the main entrée and vegetables. Unwrapping the trout fillets, he was pleased Marf had found fresh trout at the fishmonger's stall earlier that day.

Hermione stood, resting her hip against the kitchen counter’s edge, with a glass of Riesling in one hand while the other hand and arm rested across her stomach. Studying Calleo, she watched his fluid movements as with one hand he put a pat of butter in a large pan followed by a drizzle of olive oil, while the other hand was dusting the trout fillet with flour and coating it with egg before dredging it through the finely crushed pecans. Once the pecan-encrusted fillets were sautéing in the pan, he started sautéing the finely julienned carrots and slender haricot verts in a separate pan. He seemed so engrossed in such a simple thing as cooking, as if all his attention was focused on the cooker and nothing else. She smiled, watching his hands rhythmically shake the pan of vegetables back and forth with a slight jerk, stirring and flipping them without the use of a spoon or spatula.

"How do you do that?" Hermione asked.

"Do what?"

"Get the vegetables in the pan to flip without using a utensil?"

"It's all a matter of the rhythm," the dark-haired wizard explained. "Come here, and I'll show you."

Setting her wineglass down, Hermione edged over towards Calleo. He gently placed his hands on her hips and guided her to stand right in front of the pan in his spot, while he positioned himself right behind her.

"Here," he directed her, the edge of his Bauta mask brushing against a stray curl. Letting only a couple points along his body to make contact with hers, Severus guided her wrists to grab the pan's handle. He then placed his hand on top of hers and began moving the pan back and forth, keeping the vegetables moving along the bottom.

"The trick," he instructed, delighting in the feather touch of her skin against his, "is when you bring it back, it has to be a gentle jerk to cause the food to slide up and arc back into he pan. Like this," he said, demonstrating as he guided Hermione's movements.

The colorful mix of green and orange vegetables gracefully lifted from the surface of the pan to land back into the lightly browning butter.

"I did it," she crowed. "Or rather I did it with your help." Hermione felt a little triumphant thrill pass through her, knowing that she had done something new correctly the first time. With Calleo standing behind her, the thrill was gone and in its presence was the sensation of his body touching her at key points: her hand, her arm, a small spot along her back and her hip.

Severus did not miss how she subtly pressed her body against his, increasing the contact. He could have responded in kind by pressing himself and his growing erection against her, eventually pinning her against the cooker. If he didn't take control over his own body soon, he'd have her blouse open and skirt hitched up to her waist in no time flat.

Pulling away from her in order to regain control while under the pretense of fetching his own glass of wine, he said, "Those fillets look like they are ready to be flipped. Now you try it."

Hermione's body ached at the sudden loss of Calleo's body next to hers. Swallowing to regain her composure, she then looked at him with uncertainty. "Both fillets? At the same time?"

"You can do it." He tipped his wineglass at her. "I have faith in you."

"And who eats the one that winds up on the floor?"

Severus chuckled spontaneously. "We'll split it," he compromised, not really wanting to eat anything that had been picked up off the floor.

"Deal. Okay, here we go," she announced dramatically, taking an exaggerated stance as if she was about to leap over the Gringotts building in a single bound.

The first fillet landed beautifully back into the pan; the other one didn't fare quite as well, but at least half of it made it back into the pan. The other half had been thrown across the cooker top; this half was unsalvageable, as some of it had landed in the flame which was still sautéing the vegetables.

"This is your fault, you know," she ribbed him.

"Thankfully I got large fillets, or we would have starved," he joked back in kind.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, her head bent in repentance, her lower lip jutting out in half-seriousness.

"It was a rather complicated maneuver. One fillet was enough for a novice to handle, but two is very advanced cooking. I'm sorry to have put you on the spot," he said, equally penitent.

"I never would have tried unless you encouraged me to. I will have to practice at home."

Moving back to the side, Hermione let Calleo finish cooking what was left of their dinner.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As they ate, Hermione told Calleo about her trip into Muggle London, and how the world she grew up in now seemed overwhelming and strange to her. He asked a few questions about the bookstore she went to, before their talk turned to the play Hermione had seen last Saturday night.

"Have you ever seen 'Merlin and Morgan: The Lost Years'?" Hermione asked, hoping he had, in order to be able to discuss the play.

"Yes, a couple of times, actually. Once when I was very young, and another time about a decade ago. How well was it done?" Severus asked, sincerely curious.

"Well, the actor who played Merlin was a bit of a ham, but considering this was an amateur production, I was willing to let it go," the brunette conceded. "I could not see these actors in this play if this was produced in the West End of London."

"West End of London?"

"The heart of the Muggle theater district. My mother used to take me to see musicals with her when I was younger, though once I got my Hogwarts letter, I rarely went with her." Hermione sighed and sipped her wine, looking a bit contemplative. "I miss that." She shook her head. "Sorry, lost in old memories. At least I'll be seeing my parents this Sunday."

"Oh? Has it been a while?" Severus asked.

"Too long, actually," she said sadly, as she used her fork to push around a few grains of rice that had escaped the neat pile she had corralled on one corner of her plate. "I used to see them more often, but marrying into my husband's rather large family has put demands on my free time. Just when I recover from one of the family gatherings, it's time for another," Hermione said with an air of exasperation.

"Taxing?"

"To say the least," she said without hesitation. "But one of my good friends is my sister-in-law, who is married to another good friend of mine. As long as they're there, it's easier to deal with, or at least escape for a bit from the onslaught of unruly urchins and the raucous noise of almost thirty in-laws, wives and children."

Severus sat back in his seat and gave a low whistle. He’d had no idea Ginny's brothers had been so... busy. Order meetings with that many Weasleys, and the mother hen known as Molly, during the last days of the war was bad enough to endure, but to add to the mix all the wives and moppets? He didn't even want to fathom either the noise level or the damage from such a gathering.

"But back to the more pleasant subject of the play," Hermione said, steering the conversation back to the previous topic. "Tell me, how much of the play do you think is based on fact versus conjecture and literary license?"

Such an analysis had never occurred to Severus. He took the play on pure entertainment value, dismissing it as a piece of cultural frippery, but he did have a few of his own ideas that tied into the play.

"Hmmm, I haven't given it much thought, but now that you mention it… From what I remember, judging on what little actual historical documentation survived, Merlin and Morgana's relationship was based more on collusion to prevent Muggles from banishing the old ways as Christianity swept through the British Isles, rather than the more public façade they had which was adversarial."

"Really? Why the façade? In the play, it culminated in a battle of wills and who had out-maneuvered whom in the long run," Hermione asked, truly intrigued about Calleo's viewpoint, forgetting about her food for the moment. "If in actuality they worked together secretly, what is the purpose for being in opposite camps?"

"Think about it," Severus said, swirling his wine in his glass. "Christianity is a patriarchal-based religion, and the ways of the goddess are considered a threat to the male authority of the church. If you have Morgana play herself as the villain and Merlin in the role of hero, you set yourself up so that if Merlin is the victor, he is a man with just as much credibility as any male priest. But if Morgana was to work with Merlin as an equal, then you have to battle ideology in which the church has its own views of 'woman as the corrupter.' You then have to deal with a new generation that will turn its back on the ancient ways, once Christianity weaves itself into the culture within a few generations, if the female is portrayed as the equal of the male. Christianity is not the only religion to adopt rituals and folklore of the local people. The wizarding world had to adopt a few of its own from Christianity in order to survive, including a patriarchal society structure. If we lived fifteen-hundred years ago, a witch would have as many rights and privileges as any wizard, and in some ways was more revered due to the goddess religion and the ability to create life."

Severus took a long swallow of wine as his mood turned sour. "Now witches are treated these days as more like cattle, kept to breed heirs to carry on a family name, traded like livestock in order to gain prestige through alliances and money. Sometimes the sons as well." He knew he was starting to sound bitter, and decided to lighten the tone. "But I am waxing maudlin.

"So I've been informed you want to take dancing lessons. I'm surprised you didn't ask me directly," Severus said, trying his best not to sound accusatory, though slightly hurt that she did not ask him herself.

"Well," Hermione began, looking down at her plate, feeling somewhat abashed, "you've been so kind. I really didn't want to impose myself on you. You cook me dinner and listen to me complain about my husband and job. I didn't want to put you on the spot and make you feel pressured to agree to something you didn't want to do."

It was just as he thought, but it felt even better to hear it from Hermione directly. Was Hermione always this considerate of others, or was it merely the persona of Calleo that inspired her to be so thoughtful? Severus briefly wondered if Hermione would be this considerate to him if she knew who he really was. The cynic in him thought there would be a disparity in her treatment towards each persona, but another part of him believed she would treat Calleo and Severus with equal courteousness.

"Of course it is no bother to me." Severus paused and momentarily contemplated what he felt compelled to say next and the reasons behind it. He had spent most of last Saturday night suppressing his thoughts on the matter, and Sunday afternoon in internal struggle with whether he could admit it to himself, much less Hermione. In the end, when weighing the criteria for such a remark, the pessimist in him had decided to concede the point. Hermione no longer seemed like a client to him, and there were times when the thought of how to use her to his advantage slipped from the forefront of his mind. As a matter of honesty, the raven-haired wizard allowed himself to say the phrase that came naturally to others, but not to him. "That's what friends are for."

Hermione's eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and affection. "I view you as a friend as well."

"I'm glad you consider me your friend, as I consider you mine," Severus replied with a courteous nod of his head.

The devil that sat on his shoulder, the same one that kept him alive as a spy, praised him for saying what he did, as the witch would feel even more endeared to him. But deep down, a small part of him hoped that Hermione would not throw away such a remark once she knew his identity, viewing it as manipulation in the end. Of course it was manipulation, but it was also the truth.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sitting on the couch, while waiting for dinner to settle before starting dance lessons, Severus was just about to pour a cup of his latest tea blend for Hermione.

"Since you seem to have a very discerning nose, let's see how well you do when other herbs are blended into a base of mint," Severus challenged her with a certain amount of prematurely triumphant glee.

The Potions master recalled Hermione's remarks about the smell of the cassoulet interfering with her deciphering the scents in his cologne. With mint as the base, it would most likely overpower most of the other herbs, rendering them unidentifiable to most. It was a bit underhanded, but so far Severus had not been able to stump Hermione's nose yet.

"Well, that depends on what type of mint you used, Calleo," she rallied to her own defense, jutting her chin out ever so slightly in defiance. Hermione was feeling rather confident that night.

"We shall see how well you fare tonight. Shall we make a wager if I succeed and you fail to name every herb in my tea?" he asked, hoping she would take the bait, knowing how Gryffindors rarely back down from a challenge.

"Only if you are willing to make a wager of your own if you lose and I do name every herb. And none of this infinitesimal pinch of something, a quantity so minute that no one – not even a Potions master – could discern its presence," Hermione clarified, knowing never to enter a bet without covering some of the loopholes that could occur.

"Fair enough. What shall we wager?" he purred in a seductive tone.

A chill raced up Hermione's spine in anticipation of what he might request. She was frightened it might be something a little risqué like a kiss, yet a part of her grew anxious in anticipation that he might ask exactly that and maybe more.

"How about if I win, you make us something chocolaty for dessert?" Hermione proposed, knowing it was a very safe and mutually satisfying reward. They could both enjoy the end result of the wager if she won. "That is, if you have any chocolate."

"Deal," Severus answered without hesitation. "I have chocolate, not to worry. And if I win and you miss just… one …herb, you must come to dinner next Thursday night and wear a blindfold the entire time you are here."

"What?" Hermione said in amused shock.

"You heard what I said. Sometimes it gets a bit tiring wearing a full-face all evening long," he explained.

"You could always wear a half-mask," Hermione advised.

"In time I may, but not yet."

"Do you wear a half-mask for other clients?"

"For some. It depends on the situation." Severus saw the momentary look of dejection in her eye, realizing that he wore a more revealing mask for others, but not her. He reached his hand across the settee and with the edge of his index finger, raised her chin to look at him. "Patience," was all he said on the matter.

Hermione pulled her chin from his touch, trying to regain control of her emotions, one of which was jealousy. She knew she was being silly, but for the fact that other women had seen more of his face than she had, Hermione felt like she had been deprived of something others had had.

"Do other women see you without your mask?" Hermione knew she sounded possessive and petty, but she wanted to know.

"No." It was a simple and gentle reply meant to soothe her. "So, do we have an accord?"

Thinking about it, it actually sounded a bit daring and potentially erotic. Spending the whole evening deprived of sight and at Calleo's mercy, reliant upon his kindness, could prove an interesting adventure after all.

One question came to mind, though Hermione knew she should have more. "What about dance lessons? Will I be blindfolded during them too?"

"Absolutely." When her mouth dropped in mock protest, Severus added, "You will not be needing to watch your own feet while you dance. It should be something done by feel anyway. Consider it a way to learn to trust your dance partner."

Snorting in response, Hermione quickly replied, "That's easy for you to say. Your partner never dropped you during a dip."

"Who did that?!?" Severus had a strong feeling he knew who would be so bumbling.

"My husband,” she said darkly. “And it was at our wedding reception during our 'first dance.' One thing is for certain, I'll never forget it." She shook her head. "I just hope Rogina is teaching my husband to not step on my toes this time." Hermione groaned in memory of the pain and humiliation.

"I shall do my best to prepare you so that he won't step on your toes. You never did say if you agree to the terms of the bet," he reminded her.

"Deal," she agreed, holding out her hand to shake his.

After shaking her hand in agreement, Severus picked up the teapot and poured Hermione a full cup. He handed it to her before sitting back and awaiting the opportunity to gloat to himself.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione couldn't believe she missed borage in the tea, but in her own little way, it was a thrilling prospect to lose and spend next evening blindfolded in the company of Calleo. Still, Hermione had a craving for something chocolate to nibble on after the wonderful dinner her host had prepared.

"Has your dinner settled enough for you to begin lessons?" Severus asked.

"Yes. Actually, it was fortuitous that I ruined half of one of the fillets. If I ate a whole one, I think I'd be too stuffed to do any dancing tonight," she said glibly.

Severus extended his hand to help Hermione rise from the couch, and escorted her to the middle of the floor. With a swish and a few flicks of his wand, all the furniture, except for the settee and the low table in front of it, folded itself up against the wall, giving the two dancers the maximum amount of floor space.

Severus Snape had not spent eighteen years as a teacher without knowing that each lesson must have a lesson plan. The previous night, he had listened to many songs and selected each one based on the progression of the lesson. He had selected instrumental versions of songs only, so the singing would not interfere with his instruction or any conversation.

"Lesson number one," he began, making sure he did not fall back into his usual acerbic teaching voice. "Where the man goes, the lady must follow."

"That's a rather sexist statement," she joked.

Rather than be annoyed, Severus allowed her that one quip, enjoying the fact that she did not revert into her typical bookworm behavior. That sort of attitude would only remind him of his days as her professor. He was no longer her professor, but he was still teaching her. The context and place was wholly different, and their relationship now was different as well.

"If you are done fooling around, we can get on with your dance lessons. Or would you prefer your husband to step on your toes all night long?" he joked back in kind.

"Sorry." Hermione squared her shoulders, ready to learn.

Severus went through the simple motions of the box step, eventually having Hermione mirroring his feet movements. When he felt she had mastered them enough, he announced, "Now we'll try this with music."

While swishing his wand, he said, "Programme number one." From the mantle, Miss Brown's music box began to play a slow song.

He stepped up to Hermione and gently grasped her right hand with his left, while slipping his right hand around her waist to rest on her back.

Hermione stiffened momentarily, trying to control the shudder that wanted to overtake her body. "Sorry," she muttered weakly. She lifted her head to look into Calleo's eyes through his mask. "My husband hasn't touched me since that big fight we had." She dropped her eyes "I'm just…" Letting the comment die on her lips, Hermione tried to blink back the tears.

"It's alright. We'll go slow," he assured her with a soft and calming voice.

Though they were almost arm's length away from each other, there was a crackling field of energy between them.

"Remember to begin with your right foot," the wizard quietly reminded her. "Ready?"

Severus stepped forward and was matched with Hermione's movement backwards. They stepped sideways in tandem followed by Hermione moving forward and Severus backwards. Back to square one, they repeated the same sequence of movements over and over.

As Hermione grew comfortable with the steps, she began to notice the soft warmth of Calleo's hand holding hers firmly and tenderly at the same time. He held hers with a certain grace, not awkward or hard like Ron had as if he was clutching his broomstick, but as if her hand was a piece of fine china; too loose and it might drop, too tight and it might crack. With his hand on her back, she could feel the subtle flexing of his fingers to guide her to and fro, finally understanding how a man was supposed to lead a woman in a dance, signaling where she should move without words.

The song progressed and Severus drew Hermione closer to himself, minimizing the distance between them until they were a hand's width apart. He positioned Hermione so that her feet slid between his as they moved. Moving back and forth, he could feel his calf brush up against hers, making him want to draw her even closer.

The witch and the wizard were so wrapped up in the sensation of being so close to one another, they almost missed the fact that the song had ended, the music box waiting for Severus' next instruction as he programmed it.

Hermione slowly took a step back, realizing just how easily she could take one step closer and be in Calleo's arms.

"That was very good," Severus remarked in a sensuously deep voice that made Hermione's stomach clench at the many ways that could be interpreted. "We'll learn how to turn together now."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The lesson progressed quickly. By the time they needed to rest, Hermione had mastered how to turn and be spun around, ducking under Calleo's arm.

"Shall we take a rest and have some dessert?" Severus asked, awaiting Hermione's expression when she saw it.

"You planned dessert?"

"Of course! I thought we might dance a bit before having some," he replied. "Please." The dark-haired wizard motioned to the settee.

Hermione and Calleo sat as a fresh pot of Earl Grey tea and a cherry chocolate-chocolate cherry cake appeared on the table in front of them.

"Ungh!" she whinged. "You had chocolate planned for dessert anyway? If I had known that, I would have asked for something different for the wager!" Hermione protested.

"You'll just have to be more careful when placing a wager with me next time," he warned her playfully. "Figure it this way: we both got what we wanted. You have your chocolate, and I have you blindfolded for our next Thursday evening."

Severus served up tea and a large slice of cake for Hermione, knowing from experience that when it came to chocolate for most witches, rarely was there such a thing as too much chocolate.

Hermione eyed the slice that Calleo was handing her, her mouth salivating at the sight of the glazed cherries atop the dark, rich chocolate cake. As she took her first bite, she thought she had died and gone to the next ethereal plane of existence. The chocolate cake had cherries mixed into the cake as well as a layer of cherries on top, and there was a bottom layer of fudgy candied chocolate.

In response to her primal groan of appreciation, Severus remarked with a smile, "I'm sorry you don't care for it. I'll take it back to the kitchen and get you something else." He made a mock grab for her plate.
Hermione gave a small grunt of protest, as her mouth was full of cake. After swallowing quickly and taking a short sip of tea, she said, "You'll do no such thing. This cake is absolutely divine. It's so moist, and the flavor is superb. And the chocolate bottom is pure decadence."

"Thank you." He bowed his head slightly in gratitude of her praise. 'Yes, cooking does have the side benefit of praise that Potions making does not.'

"We seem to be making good progress, but can I learn the tango, swing and foxtrot within the next three weeks?" Hermione asked, worried that she wouldn't be prepared at all for her anniversary. "That's just three more evenings."

"As I mentioned before, you could come on other nights. Though I might recommend we agree on a night before you come, as I may be out if you show up unannounced," Severus replied, remembering how Miss Brown wanted to work a few nights in order to get ahead in their work. "I know I mentioned you could stop by anytime on those nights before, but there's been a slight change in my schedule recently. You are still welcome to stop by and see if I'm here anyway."

"What nights are you usually free?" Hermione remembered which nights, but didn't want to presume it was the same nights he mentioned before.

"Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays."

After a moment of running through her mental schedule, Hermione asked, "Would next Monday be all right?"

"Yes, that would be fine."

"What time shall I come?"

"Any time after six would be agreeable with me, though I would prefer to know when you will show up."

Thinking on how her Tuesdays evenings were now booked with counseling sessions and her usual Thursday night with Calleo, Hermione came to a decision. "Does nine o'clock work for you or is that too late?" She would have said seven, but she knew if she instantly dropped her late nights at the office from four days a week to two, Madam Dushka would be on her case, ignoring the fact that Mr. Spawn never stayed a minute past five.

"Nine o'clock is agreeable, though if we meet that late we'll have to concentrate on dancing alone, leaving our dinners and conversations for only Thursdays."

"I would come sooner, but for the fact that Trevor Spawn is about as useful as teats on a Centaur, and for the fact I'm to be starting marriage counseling next Tuesday evening; I'll need to stay late to catch up on work," Hermione explained rather glumly.

Severus found humor in her analogy in Mr. Spawn's usefulness. "Then we shall make the most of your lessons on Monday night."

They tipped their teacups in a semi-toast to their new arrangement.

By the time Severus was halfway through his slice, Hermione had polished off her cake and was sipping tea, looking as content as a cat with a belly full of cream lying on a cushion in front of a warm fire. He felt rather content himself as well, but he knew that as soon as Hermione was gone and out the door, he would begin to doubt his own growing feelings towards her. Under the scrutiny of Draco, Ginny and his employer, he felt compelled to deny any feelings of warmth towards her. To the visions of Albus and Minerva, and even his own reflection, he felt like he must behave in his usual manner and deny the fact that he did have a heart. But faced with her here in his flat, somehow the personas of Calleo and Severus were beginning to blur together. His dry wit was coming through with greater frequency, along with his more brutally honest opinions. The gigolo persona of Calleo seemed to come to him with greater ease with each meeting, politeness and patience becoming a more natural part of his behavior.

While she was in his presence, he felt more like himself than he had in ages. There was no expectation of him to be his sarcastically acerbic self, a persona grown out of frustration from teaching and his days as a spy to maintain his cover as a loyal follower of Voldemort. That persona also grew from the bitterness of walking the same halls he did as a teenager, while being degraded and teased by the likes of James Potter and Sirius Black; each corridor had brought back suppressed memories of humiliation daily.

Now, in the privacy of his flat with Hermione sitting next to him, memories of being called "greasy git" and "dungeon bat" were far away. Instead, he felt appreciated and welcomed for who he was now, not rejected for his past and fierce reputation as a ruthless professor. Just as Hermione could feel no expectations demanded of her during her evenings with him, he was beginning to feel the same way with her. He knew that once he took off his mask, old habits and preconceptions would fall back into place, and Hermione would no longer feel at ease with him like she was at that very moment. That could have been the reason why Severus was drawing out the time before he revealed himself to her. Whatever the case, these were the green and pleasant days of their blooming friendship.

Once the cake had been eaten and the tea finished, they continued with their lesson.

"Are you ready to learn how to be dipped?" Severus asked.

"I don't know if I'll ever be ready," Hermione stated with wariness. "Just don't drop me."

"I promise I won't drop you. You just have to trust me." As he led her back to the middle of the floor, he asked, "Do you trust me?"

Hermione stepped up to him, placing her right hand in his left and her left hand on his shoulder, lightly pressing her body against him. She beamed a smile at him as she said, "Implicitly."

The music began with a flick of Severus' wand, and a slow tune began to play.

As they moved about the floor, Hermione turned her head and tucked it next to the crook of his neck, laying it against his chest as Calleo drew his left hand closer to their bodies and pulled her closer with his other hand around her waist.

She could smell his cologne, though it was very faint tonight. Hermione had to restrain the impulse to nuzzle her cheek and nose against his chest. Being held this close, she could feel the hard planes of his body and she felt far removed from the world while enveloped in his arms. As they moved, she could feel the movement of his leg next to and between hers. Every move they made together seemed as if they moved with the same purpose. Dancing with Ron was never like this; it was more like battling with an uncooperative broomstick. But with Calleo, it seemed as though it was the most natural thing in the world, and being in any man's arms before had never felt so right as that moment. Her head began to swim with thoughts of taking things from a platonic to a completely different level all together. Though she had sworn never to be unfaithful to Ron, the idea was certainly beginning to become attractive to her. Hermione glanced up and saw that Calleo's neck was very close, so close that if she moved her head just a little, she could rub her nose and cheek along that little bit of flesh that enticed her. She wondered what his skin would taste like. Drunk on the heady sensation of being so close to Calleo and the scent of him, Hermione pondered if she could deal with the guilt of her own infidelity.

Severus reveled at the feel of Hermione pressed willingly against him as they danced. His feet moved of their own accord, while his mind warred with his body to behave. He could feel himself harden at Hermione's soft form, molded along his, her breasts pressed against his chest and one finger on her hand unconsciously stroking the top of his shoulder, the imperceptible nuzzling of her cheek against him. His hand tightened around her waist further, noting the taper and wanting to drop his hand further down to explore the curve of her hip. A stray curl of her hair that wandered under the edge of his mask brushed against his chin. The raven-haired man wanted to take the curl and bury his nose in it, followed by the entire mass of her mane.

Somewhere deep in the recesses of Severus' brain, the spy part of him spoke up, 'Keep this up and you'll shag her before the night's through. Do that and you can kiss your chance for escape goodbye. Either restrain yourself or reveal yourself. She'll be mortified if she realized after the fact that she fucked Professor Severus Snape.' He wanted the voice in his head to go away, but he knew the voice was right. Things were getting too cozy, and it was time for a slight change of pace.

"Are you ready to be dipped? Just relax," he instructed her.

Hermione's body stiffened. "I'm not sure. I'll try."

Severus turned her, moving his left hand up her back for support while keeping a hold around her waist with his right. In a moment of panic, based on her previous experience with Ron, Hermione stiffened even more. Losing her footing due to her body going completely rigid, her feet started to scrabble, and she grabbed frantically at Calleo's shirt as he began to dip her.

From the unexpected weight of Hermione's flailing body in his arms and the fact that she was pitching over at an alarming rate while clutching onto him, Severus felt his own footing go.

They went down spectacularly in a heap of arms and legs. During the fall, everything seemed to go into slow motion for Severus. During the trip down, he was able to get one hand free to cushion the fall while holding Hermione tighter and turning her sideways so he would not fall directly on top of her. Hermione squeaked in fright.

"OOMPH!" Severus felt his breath leave him upon impact. He hoped he didn’t sprain his wrist upon landing.

When they both opened their eyes, Severus was partially sprawled on top of Hermione.

"That was not how it was supposed to go," he dryly commented. "I've seen pregnant hippogriffs make a better landing."

Hermione burst out into gales of laughter. The mood was so completely broken, but Calleo's comment was said in such a way that she found funny, and she was whooping in stitches.

Her laughter was infectious enough to make Severus laugh as well, as he moved off her and onto his side. He was now propped up on one elbow looking down on her still sprawled on the floor, their legs still slightly intertwined.

As he gazed down at her, he knew he had never felt such an overpowering urge to kiss anyone. She lay before him, face flushed from laughing, her eyes bright. As he reached one hand to move an errant lock of hair from her cheek, her eyes suddenly became intense and heavily lidded with desire. Her pupils were dilated, making her eyes look larger, while her mouth parted and her tongue moistened her lips.

There was a pleasant tightness and fluttering in his stomach; he hadn't felt a sensation like that since the first time he rode a broom successfully. Severus wondered if he should just rip his mask off and kiss her, or just get up and offer her a hand to get up off the floor. Would she kiss Severus? She would kiss Calleo, but he doubted she would kiss her old teacher. He could easily imagine himself ravaging her right there and then on the floor, making her beg and plead for him to take her. It was his doubt that propelled him to stand upright.

"You didn't relax," he reminded her as he helped her up.

"At least you didn’t drop me. We just fell… together." Then she giggled some more as she rose.

They tried it one more time and succeeded. The song ended, and Hermione noticed the time. It was getting late.

"One more song, and then I must go," she said with a hint of sadness.

He nodded. Just then, Severus realized he hadn't picked out enough songs and needed one more. As he waved his wand, he said, "Select random song, slow, foxtrot."

As the chanteuse's husky and suggestive voice filled the tense silence between the two dancers, they were both wrapped in their own thoughts, silently reflecting on the lyrics.

"Did you say I've got a lot to learn?
Well, don't think, I'm tryin' not to learn
Since this is the perfect spot to learn
Oh, teach me tonight!"

'What was it that Mum called it? Oh yes, radio syndrome,' Hermione thought.

Wendy Granger had a theory that Hermione was finding some merit to. Hermione's mother told her when she was younger, every time she found a new boyfriend, the radio seemed filled with songs of love. When Mrs. Granger broke up with the boy, nothing but songs about heartache and lost love filled the airwaves. Whatever intense emotion Wendy Granger experienced in her youth, it seemed the radio played nothing but songs that reflected her mood.

Now Hermione was listening to words encouraging her to beg Calleo to teach her the ways of passion. She'd had that particular fantasy play many times in her head, it just wasn't until tonight that she had seriously considered making that fantasy a reality.

She clutched Calleo's shoulder a little tighter in order to keep her hand from straying to his neck or his hair.

Severus damned himself for not having enough songs selected. Now he knew why he programmed songs to play without the words. The song currently playing was almost lascivious in its connotations. And for the fact it reminded him of the fact that he was once her professor did not help the matter. But the smoky voice of the woman – imploring her lover to instruct her in the ways of making love – had a suggestive power over him, helped along by Hermione clutched tightly to him.

The song was short enough to prevent them from thinking too much, or from acting once the thinking stopped and hormones began dictating actions.

Hermione stepped away from Calleo and smoothed down her skirt in nervousness, knowing that if she did not part now she might not make it home with her self-respect intact.

"You're a very good teacher," she breathed.

It was Severus' turn to laugh lightly. "Now that is something I have never heard."

"Well, you are," Hermione insisted. "Even if we did fall. But if I hadn't frozen up, then we probably wouldn't have." Glancing at the clock on the mantle, her brow furrowed.

"You have to go." Severus wasn't sure if he was just repeating what she was thinking, or it was a command for her to leave before he lost control of his senses and did something rash.

"Yes," she breathed. "Dinner was lovely, as always. Dessert was especially delectable." She hummed to herself, then sighed regretfully. "The evening always flies by when I'm here."

"Yes, it does. But we have Monday to look forward to." He studied the way her hands clasped each other until the knuckles were almost white.

Severus fetched her cloak.

As he slipped the royal blue cloak over her shoulders, admiring the color on her, Severus casually mentioned, "Miss Brown has finally settled on a name for that cologne you commented on last week. It's called Haunt."

Hermione was right. The cologne being put up for display in the apothecary window was the same one she smelled on Calleo. She wondered if Calleo had told Lavender what she had said the previous week. It was a very strong coincidence.

Once he had helped her with her cloak, she turned and said wistfully, "Until Monday night."

Severus grasped her hand and bowed low, kissing her hand tenderly. "Until Monday."

Hermione felt like her skin was white-hot where his lips met her hand. She held her breath, and her head spun. Once Calleo released her hand, she turned to leave before temptation proved itself too great to resist.

The door closed behind her, and Hermione let out a sigh. Smiling broadly to herself, a tune from one of her mother's favorite musicals came to mind. She began singing to herself, “I could have danced all night, I could have danced all night, and still have begged for more.”

As she lazily waltzed down the flight of stairs and passed the door on the third floor, still singing, Hermione was oblivious to the gray eye peering through the crack in the door.

============

A/N: If you have ever had a jacaranda tree on your property, you know what I am talking about. It's a sub-tropical tree with beautiful lavender flowering in the late spring. While the tree is in bloom, a sticky "mist" falls that settles on everything. I used to park my car underneath one at my parent's home and had this sticky "dew" all over my windshield (which practically blinded me when driving into the sun). No matter how many times I washed my windshield with all matter of cleaning solutions NOTHING would take it off. The dew is basically aphid shit and takes forever to remove from glass, paint, everything. It almost has to wear off. I do NOT recommend using nail polish remover for removing aphid shit.
Haricot verts are skinny green beans.
For the complete lyrics of "Teach Me Tonight", visit: http://www.alex-blue-pages.com/teachme.htm Lyrics by: Sammy Cahn. Music by: Gene de Paul.
From "My Fair Lady": "I could have danced all night, I could have danced all night, and still have begged for more." written by Frederick Loewe and lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner.
Severus was kind enough to share with me his secret cherry chocolate-chocolate cherry cake recipe. Since he figures few of you are skilled enough to know how to make a cake from scratch, he has given me the shortcut recipe.

Chocolate Cherry Cake
(Chocolate candy glaze recipe listed below)

1 box of chocolate cake mix
2 21oz. cans of cherry pie filling (one for the batter and one for topping)
4 eggs
1 Tablespoon of vanilla extract

Mix and bake the cake according to package directions, using the eggs, vanilla, cake mix, and one can of cherry pie filling. Remove from oven and place on a cooling rack bottom up. When cake is cool, pour candied chocolate glaze over the surface of the cake and smooth so it is an even layer. When chocolate has hardened, flip over onto a serving plate so the hardened chocolate is on the bottom, and top with the second can of cherry pie filling. Serve.

Fudgy Candied Chocolate Glaze

1 stick butter (1/4 lb, or 4oz.)
2 cups (16oz) granulated sugar (caster sugar in UK)
1/2 cup (4oz) whole milk (not low fat or it won't solidify)
1 12oz. bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips (recommend using a good brand, such as Ghiradelli or Guittard's available in the U.S.)

Bring butter, sugar and milk to a boil. Let boil rapidly for two minutes. You may let it boil for three if you want a harder chocolate bottom. Turn off heat and stir in chocolate chips until all melted and smooth. Pour over cake immediately before it starts to set.

B/N: Well, you accomplished what you set out to do…I am positively squirming in my chair! The tension in here is settling like that mist off the tree…how’s about another chapter that will hopefully bring a bit of resolution, even if it’s only a kiss? *Whew!*
~ Horserider
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And They Didn\'t Live Happily Ever After