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Talk Dirty To Me	By : onecelestialbeing Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 20443 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter and it's characters, nor do I make any money from this sordid little fic :)

Chapter List
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"J?"

"T?"

'T' snapped his book shut and set it down with a soft thump.

"I suppose this evening has already met its end now that you've put a face to the name."

Hermione realised that she had been rudely gawking, and pressed her face into a more dignified expression.

"Well, now, there's no need to be hasty," she replied lightly, slipping out of her coat and draping it round the back of her chair. "I must say, this is a surprise, but not exactly unpleasant. After all, it was, err, a few words that had me captivated before I had a physical appearance to go by. So why would I up and leave now?"

"Let me see," he replied, extending one hand to tick off each of his points. "Shall I start before, during, or post war?"

Right then, a waiter came over to hand them menus. Hermione accepted hers with a smile, her dinner companion accepting his with a bit of gruff.

"If you feel the need to walk down memory lane again, by all means. I won't stop you," Hermione stated, flipping open her menu and peering down at it. "But one charm of the past is just that—it's the past. To be frank, I'm more interested in this delicious looking noodle dish. I've always said I would try it but never did, mostly because I have a bad habit of always ordering the same thing. Have you ever tried this?"

She held up her menu to her partner and pointed to the dish in question. His brows knitted together as he scrutinised the tiny print next to her scarlet painted nail.

"No, I haven't," he admitted reluctantly, "but I suppose there's a first time for everything."

"There is...isn't there," Hermione murmured, hoping the unintentional double entendre was not lost on him.

Once their orders had been placed and the starters set down, part of which included a couple of beers, the two sat in awkward silence. Their beer had been served still in its can with a glass set over the top, and Hermione began methodically dismantling everything. Two black eyes were intently focused on the pale, fizzy liquid being poured into the glass, never leaving even as she took a long drag and set the glass back down.

"So...Severus," she began, hesitantly. "Do you mind if I call you by your first name?"

"Not at all," he replied with a small nod, eyes downcast as he now poured his own drink. "Hermione."

She smiled at that. "You're looking well."

"As opposed to...?"

"Before," she answered simply. It wasn't exactly polite to point out how the man used to have a wraithlike appearance. He was still pale as the white paper serviette beneath his fingertips, and it was hard to tell if he was still rail-thin, but the lines of stress that once creased his mouth and forehead seemed to have completely vanished.

Picking up her beer to take another pull, Hermione tried to figure out why a man who had no problem uttering the dirtiest, most sinfully delicious things to her on the internet was now having trouble with looking her directly in the eye. Severus Snape appeared more interested in his beer...the menu....even the bottle of soy sauce to his right. Well, if he was going to avoid her, she could use the opportunity to further appraise him.

Severus' face was definitely not gaunt as it had been before, but there was suddenly a bit of colour staining his cheeks. His hair was still the same, if not a bit longer, and she credited him for not having one hint of grey. Whatever he did, Hermione made a mental note to ask for tips, as she had begun seeing a few streaks since twenty-five.

OK, enough was enough. She was getting fed up with watching Severus looking at something over her shoulder, the wall, anywhere except her face. He never had a problem staring her down when they were at Hogwarts!

You ninny; he's probably embarrassed because of those things he said to you, not knowing that you were his former student! Hermione reminded herself.

Now it was her turn to feel ashamed. Perhaps he had been expecting someone else—someone that was definitely not an ex-pupil.

"I'm sorry if you were disappointed," Hermione apologised. "It's clear that you're uncomfortable with this. Since I suggested that we meet, I'll pay for dinner and then we can part ways and never speak of this day again."

Severus' eyes met hers; somehow he managed to look offended and sheepish at the same time.

"I believe it's safe to say that only one of us is disappointed," he replied. "I admit that surprised is a better description of what I'm experiencing, but disappointment is not one of them."

"Oh! Well..."

"Would you still like to cut our evening short?"

"I'm not disappointed, and what I would like is to continue this evening," Hermione stated firmly, before Severus had the chance to protest. "Especially since I'm spending it with a man who left me with a gaped mouth and my stomach filled with fiery little butterflies, all by use of a few words. Sorry, my analogies are rubbish, but hopefully it gives you an idea of what I mean."

Severus gave a noncommittal hum, but at least he no longer looked as if he was ready to jump up from the table and run screaming into the night.

"You know, you have a twin that works at the Ministry," Hermione added casually, trying to bring levity to the conversation. Her lips curved into a smile as she thought about the wizard she just mentioned. "The only difference is he's about fifteen years younger, wears t-shirts with bands on them that I've never heard of, and has a penchant for £90 trainers. Oh, and he and Tonks are friends."

"Who in their right mind would pay that much for a bit of rubber and cloth?" Severus muttered, visibly relaxing as he folded both hands and placed them down on the table. "Figures this odd young man would cling to the first nutter he sees; I'm surprised that clumsy witch still has her head attached."

Surreptitiously taking in Severus' appearance again, Hermione noted that he still retained his penchant for wearing all black; black jacket, a black overcoat folded on the chair next to him, and what she was sure were black trousers hidden beneath the table. A hint of a crisp, snowy white collar was the only thing peeking out from his jacket. It was odd not seeing him in his buttoned up attire or wizard's robes, but it wasn't as if one could roam a Muggle area without calling attention to oneself while wearing such garments.

Little did Hermione know that she had already been given the once over, and that was before she made it to the table. Severus had peeked from around his book to hone in on the shapely feminine form, which was mostly concealed by a beige trench coat yet displayed a flash of blue whenever she moved. He had watched closely as the young woman searchingly scanned the area. The back of her head told of an attempt that had been made to calm a riot of curls, yet the springy tresses managed to escape the clutches of a gold hair clasp at the nape of her neck. When the woman finally turned around and revealed her face, Severus had been floored to see none other than Hermione Granger. She looked nearly the same as she had the last time he'd seen her. Truthfully speaking, she was more than just easy on the eyes, a fact Severus was able to admit to himself without feeling like a lecher now that she was no longer an underage swotty thorn-in-his-side.

At first, Severus panicked inwardly. He thought about fleeing, but Apparating with a loud pop right out of the restaurant would cause some consternation among the wait staff. By the time he began formulating another plan while hiding behind his book, Hermione had walked right up on him.

"So I'm curious—"

"You, curious?" Severus interrupted dryly with a snort. "Impossible."

"Ha ha," Hermione mocked, even though her brown eyes shone with amusement. "What made you choose this place?"

Severus arched an eyebrow. "I was so sure you were going to ask me how I'd managed to land on a website dedicated to helping lonely people meet for bouts of casual sex."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Magk is for more than just that," she protested. "It's for people to meet so they can—"

"Shag. Have a one-off. Fuck with no strings attached."

There was something about the way the word 'fuck' rolled around his tongue and dripped from thin yet perfectly shaped lips that made Hermione's insides clench. Not to mention that he was smirking at her, as if visions of acting out that very word with her was running through his mind.

"All right, I guess you have a point," Hermione laughed, forcing herself to focus. "But I'm still curious as to what made you choose this restaurant. It's sort of a funny coincidence; I've come in here more times than I can count. But mostly for takeaway when I didn't feel like cooking."

"Seems as though we both have that in common," Severus confided, looking away from her to glance around the dining room. "This is actually my first time sitting down to eat; usually I pick up my food and return home. The old man downstairs thinks he's funny, asked me if I ever cooked and did I know my way around the supermarket. Then he said never mind, that my many visits would singularly help to keep his business afloat and I could order takeaway whenever I wanted."

"We both have that in common. He once pulled out a few notes and told me to take it for groceries," Hermione reminisced, shaking her head. "I suppose I've been here one too many times for takeaway. But in my defence, after a long work week and I cannot be arsed to heat up and choke down more leftovers. I don't know how he does it; can't remember your name to save his life but he'll remember your face, as well as the last time he saw you."

"Yes, and he'll remind you of your last visit," Severus continued. "I suppose I could have chosen another restaurant where we'd have to put on airs and graces just to get in the front door, but the food is never nearly as good. Not unless you enjoy a piece of chicken that's big as a Snitch. Now that I think about it, a Snitch might be easier to chew."

"I've been to one of those restaurants with my parents. Let me tell you, the waiters there know how to pour in on. But the food was crap and while the puddings looked good...let's just say the smashed packet of biscuits that my friend found in her desk one morning tasted better."

"How appetising."

"Hey, crumbled teacakes were better than that tasteless chocolate gateau. How you ruin a chocolate gateau is beyond me, but, what can you do. But since you brought it up, just how did you come to get on Magk?"

"Would you believe me if I say that it was not intentional?" he asked in between sips of beer.

"...maybe?"

Hermione half-expected him to take offence; Severus did just the opposite and gave her another smirk.

"It's true," he replied, reaching across the table to pick up Hermione's beer can. Refilling her glass, and then his from his own can, Severus seemed to be carefully choosing his words. "You were the first and only I've engaged with on Magk. It was purely by accident that I'd stumbled onto there, but after digging around a bit, I found some most intriguing photographs..."

"You found the nude section," Hermione grimaced, thinking back to the many things she'd seen which cannot be unseen. One was a penis that resembled a wonky courgette, and the world didn't have enough bleach for her to scrub her eyes of the image. "Found and lingered."

"I never claimed to be a saint," Severus told her, sounding unrepentant. "I have eyes, the pictures were there. If they weren't meant to be seen, then their owners would have never displayed them. Not that any of the photographs were anything to write home about. By the way, I believe the young lady sitting over there has been trying to get your attention for the past fifteen minutes.”

Severus gave a small nod. Frowning, Hermione peered over her shoulder to find a dark-haired witch and her male companion sitting across the dining room. Mina was blatantly staring in Hermione and Severus' direction, but didn’t appear remotely abashed at having been caught. Instead, she smoothly turned back around and resumed her conversation with David.

“A deftly executed move,” Severus murmured. “Was she to be your escape plan in case ‘T’ happened to be the bogeyman?”

Hermione bit her lip to stifle a laugh. “Something like that. Will you excuse me for a moment? I need to...”

“Powder your nose?” he finished euphemistically for her, his lips twitching as if suppressing a smile. “By all means, take your time.”

Hermione smiled apologetically and rose from the table. The Ladies was downstairs and seconds after dashing inside, the door reopened and closed.

“So, what’s the plan?” Mina asked, leaning over the basin to peer in the mirror. “Do we need to play your knight in shining armour? Or do things seem promising?”

“I think we can skip the theatrics for tonight,” Hermione replied, watching Mina fiddling with her curls. “To be honest, I’m a bit shocked because I know him.”

Mina turned away from the mirror. “What? How?”

“He used to be my professor.”

The perplexed look on Mina’s face rapidly switched into one of knowing, and her grin was far too wide for Hermione’s comfort.

“I knew you looked comfortable over there, like you wanted to launch yourself across the table and sit on his lap. He was your teacher? Wow.” She began chortling. “Aren’t you glad I made you shave your legs?”

“Mina!” Hermione snapped, now looking in the mirror herself and rearranging her hair clasp. “First off, I don’t even know if he sees me that way, much less how he feels after finding out that who he’s been talking to all this time has been his former irritating student. Secondly, we haven’t seen one another in, let me think, nine or so years? Not to mention he’ll think I’m a total slag if I go home with him after one date.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Mina exhaled, holding out a hand. “Listen, Little Miss Morals, if anything he’ll think just the opposite, and that’s before brushing the gathered dust off your bits. Besides, when have you ever backed down from anything?”

“This is...different.”

“Like hell it is. Listen, I’m not telling you to take off your knickers and put them over his head, although if you do, you owe me for making you put on the good ones. But if your evening should come to that—and I hope so, because your vibrator wrote me and told me that he’s knackered and is going on holiday just to get away from you—so be it.”

Hermione opted to ignore that comment. Realising that she needed the bathroom for more than just sleuthing purposes, she slipped into a stall while Mina continued chattering away.

“I don’t know what you’re so particular for,” her voice carried through the closed stall. “One date, one hundred dates, what does it matter? If you two do hit it off so well, eventually you’d get to it, yeah? So why wait?”

“Who even said I wanted to go that far?” Hermione grumbled, slipping out of the stall and walking to the sinks.

There went that damned knowing look reappearing on Mina’s face. Hermione turned off the taps and dried her hands, but not before flicking a bit of water at her friend.

“OK, since we’re feigning ignorance to that flicker of lust in your eyes,” Mina replied after using the back of her hand to dry her cheek. “But I’ll keep my wards lowered just in case you need to Apparate to my flat in the middle of the night. You know, in case your bloke turns out to be a freak that has a bin bag of toenail and hair clippings stashed away somewhere.”

“Shut up, Mina.”

“Ooh, even worse—what if it’s a wheelie bin full of toenails?”

Hermione stalked out of the bathroom without another word, tuning out the sound of Mina’s cackling.

“Everything all right?” Severus asked when she slipped back into her chair.

“Besides the fact that I’m going to seriously injure my friend?” Hermione replied, distractedly nibbling on the appetisers that had grown lukewarm. “Fine, everything’s fine.”

“Fine, even though you’re plotting her demise?”

“In my defence, she warranted that.”

“Sweet and unsuspecting on the outside, but still that long streak of vicious,” Severus chuckled, plucking one of the prawn toasts from the plate between them and taking a small bite. “Care to divulge?”

“Had this been any other night, I’d say no,” Hermione admitted, reaching for her beer, “but unconventional as this night is, I don’t think playing coy will get me anywhere.”

“I seem to remember once telling you that I’m not one to stand on formality.”

“Yes, I know, but you must promise to not think poorly of me.”

“You have my word, Hermione.”

Hermione took a deep breath. “My friend, and I’m using that word lightly right now, seems to think that I want to leave with you. She also said I’d thank her later for making me shave my legs and for wearing frilly knickers.”

Was she seeing things, or did his Adam’s apple bob a little as he swallowed hard upon hearing that comment about her knickers? Nope...there was definitely a strange flicker in his eyes. Perhaps Mina had been onto something...

“How frilly are they?” he finally asked with just a hint of suggestiveness.

Oh, he was definitely flirting with her.

Well, this is surreal.

“I think you might have to be the judge of that,” Hermione replied before she could catch herself.

And you are definitely flirting back.

“Does that mean you plan to show me?”

There was a monumental moment of dithering as Hermione pondered her answer. If she said no, then she might be missing out on what could turn out to be an intriguing night. That, she would surely regret. If she said yes, she risked the idea of giving Severus the wrong idea. Although, how much of a wrong idea could she give him considering their many licentious exchanges?

“If I agree, will you hold it against me?” asked Hermione cautiously.

“If you agree, I’ll hold you against me. How does that sound?”

Hermione knew not where this sudden roguish side of Severus came from, but it was damn sure leaving her flustered. There was no way she could go home to her cold, lonely bed. Not with the way he was looking at her, as if able to see right through her dress. Ordinarily she would have been offended, but now? She felt as if his dark eyes were penetrating the knit material covering her breasts, going through her bra, and catching a full glimpse of her erect nipples.

“Have you finished?” Severus was now asking, gesturing to the dish of half-eaten starters, “or should we have our dinner wrapped up?”

Hermione looked down at the plate of prawn toasts, sighing when she remembered that their main dishes still hadn't been served. “To be honest, I don’t think I can take another bite.”

Severus seemed amused by that comment, most likely because he knew why Hermione was so frazzled. He drew no further attention to it; instead, he summoned a waiter and had their dinner packaged in takeaway containers. Once the bill had been settled, they both rose from the table. In a fit of chivalry, Severus helped her into her coat, before putting on his own. They had to pass the table Mina and David were sitting at, and Hermione purposely walked faster, trying to avoid her friend’s gleaming eye.

Of course, the uncouth bint let out a sort of whoop as the two descended the stairs, one that Hermione clearly understood.

I’m going to kill her. I swear, I’m going to kill her. But not tonight.

“Where are you taking me?” Hermione asked once she and Severus were standing on the pavement in front of the restaurant.

“Someplace where I can put your thighs over my shoulder, where no one can hear you scream,” he replied evenly, shifting the bag containing their food to one hand while adjusting his black scarf around his neck. “And trust me, you’ll be doing a lot of that.”

Hermione shivered, yet knew it had nothing to do with the cool autumn air swirling about her exposed ankles.

“You sound rather sure,” she murmured, slipping her arm through his when he held his out.

“I could be making it all up,” Severus suggested, to which Hermione scoffed.

“You don’t make things up,” she balked. “It’s sort of ironic; usually the cocksure ones are the ones who always fall short. How do I know that you are the sort to speak beguilingly of passion from a distance and then fail to deliver when given the chance?”

“And to think you just referred to me as cocky,” he snorted. “I suppose you’ll have to come with me to find out.”

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” Hermione pointed out. Between Severus’ long legs and his fast gait, she had to put forth an effort to keep up with him. “It looks like we’re headed towards the tube.”

“Quite the opposite, Miss Gr—Hermione.”

“Nice save.”

“As I was saying, I hope you aren’t opposed to Apparition?”

“So long as I don’t have to get on a broomstick, I’m fine.”

“You'll be riding something, just not a broomstick." That comment made her chest grow warm, and it lingered as Severus continued talking. "Still opposed to flying, I see.”

“How do you know I don’t like flying?”

“Pfft, really, Hermione,” he scoffed. “Give me a bit of credit, at the very least.”

Hermione tightened her hold on Severus’ arms, enjoying the feel of his woollen coat beneath her fingertips. She was still trying to wrap her head around the idea that she was going home with him for a night of... well, sex, she knew, but some niggling thought at the back of her mind kept gleefully pointing out that she might be for more. In any event, it was disconcerting yet not unpleasant to be so close to a man that had rearranged her brain in a rather unconventional manner.

It was a shame she couldn’t tell what Severus was thinking; he was smoothly walking down the street as if he and Hermione had done so together on a regular basis, as if they were a steady couple that had gone out for the evening instead of just becoming reacquainted.

“Do you often take strange women home with you?” asked Hermione jovially, even though her question was partially serious.

“A better question would be ‘do I often take women home’, to which the answer is no,” Severus told her. “You’d be the first, although the strange part still holds.”

“Hey!” Hermione cried, lightly tugging on his arm. A quick look up at his face and she saw that Severus' lips were curved; he was goading her. “I’m not that strange.”

“The lady protest too much.”

“If I admit to being strange, will you tell me where we’re going?” she bargained.

“My home in Kennington,” Severus finally answered, staring down at Hermione to see if she had any objection. “I should warn you, it’s nothing glamorous.”

“If it’s glamour you’re looking for, then you should never visit my house,” Hermione replied. “Besides the books I have strewn about, everything is a resting surface for Duchess. I should call it her house instead of mine.”

“Oh yes, the feline that saw fit to drape herself across the keyboard in the middle of our conversation,” Severus drawled. “I meant it when I said your familiar was welcome at my house. Right here should suffice.”

Severus stopped walking. Hermione noticed they were standing in a dark, deserted area, away from the lampposts. She had minimal warning before his arm tightened round hers, and her stomach gave a lurch as they Apparated out of place.
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Talk Dirty To Me