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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
- 44
- 45
- 46
"And They Didn't Live Happily Ever After"

Chapter Forty-Five
“The Best Friend Is The One Who In Wishing Me Well Wishes It For My Sake”

Disclaimer: Disclaimer? Yeah, sure. Why not? Rowling owns it all, and I'm not making any money off of this. Happy now?

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Severus opened the door, and Hermione rushed to embrace him. She threw her arms around him, and buried her head in his chest.

“I'm happy to see you too,” Severus remarked drolly, swishing his wand to shut the door.

Her head still pressed firmly against Severus' chest, Hermione began to laugh as the tension began to ebb away. Keeping her arms about him, she inhaled and felt safe in the familiar scent that was uniquely Severus.

After exhaling a large sigh of relief, Hermione lifted her head up and smiled sheepishly. “I hope your weekend was better than mine.”

“If this is the sort of greeting I get after a bad weekend — please forgive me for saying — I hope next weekend is equally torturous,” the raven-haired wizard teased.

As they made their way to the settee, Hermione laughed at his comment, and clutched Severus' arm lightly to show her appreciation of his ability to put her at ease.

“Never have I so looked forward to the weekend coming to an end quite like this. Rarely have I looked forward to Monday morning work as a chance to escape,” she said dramatically, and conjured a handkerchief with which to mop her brow and the back of her neck.

Severus gave Marf the signal to serve refreshments. A large pitcher of chilled lemonade, two glasses, and a bucket of ice appeared on the low table in front of them.

Before Severus had a chance to serve up a glass of lemonade for Hermione, she sat forward and asked if he would like ice in his glass. Momentarily stunned that for once someone was making the effort to serve him in this environment, he finally answered with a nod of his head.

Accepting the glass with a smile and a “thank you,” Severus sat back and enjoyed a little hospitality thrown his way.

“Would you like me cast another Cooling Charm for you?” Severus offered as Hermione poured a glass for herself.

“No, thank you,” Hermione declined. ”Maybe another Cooling Charm when we are dancing, would be nice.”

They sat for a moment in silence drinking their beverages, the heat of the day having worn out both of them. Hermione was recuperating from the weekend more than from the heat.

It was still very hot on Monday, but not as sweltering as it had been the previous day. Ginny's surprise birthday party that year had just happened to fall on the hottest day ever recorded in England. It was a few degrees cooler out in Devon where the Burrow was located versus London, but the oppressive heat had made everything wilt at the party, including the guests.

Hermione and Ginny, still upset over the way Molly had interfered with their lives, braved the heat to go hide out in the shed, with the benefit of some cold drinks and some Cooling Charms. It was easier to avoid Molly than confront her, especially at Ginny's party, as that would cause a familial rift. Unfortunately, the overbearing Weasley matron sent one of her sons to fetch the birthday girl and the brunette witch. Hermione had been tempted to give Molly a piece of her mind, but it was too hot and too much bother to confront her mother-in-law on issues that were moot by this point; the wedding was long past. If Molly began nagging her in the future, Hermione would surely be tempted to verbally lay into the older witch.

Hermione noticed that even Harry and Ron were hiding out in the attic and had to be dragged downstairs to join the celebration. Once the cake was cut, and presents opened, Hermione begged off the rest of the party by feigning a visit by the ‘Old Crone.’

It was when she had reached the sanctuary of her own home that Hermione suddenly remembered she needed to take her weekly potion. She normally would have taken it that morning, but having to sleep out on the couch had thrown her off her weekly habit of taking it first thing when she awoke Sunday morning. Rummaging through the cabinet, she found her potion and noticed by the weekly color coding that her menstrual cycle should have started by now. A quick check of the calendar proved that she was late.

Panic and bile rose in Hermione's throat. She calmed herself by recalling that the only time she’d had sex with Ron during this cycle was that one night after she had that erotic dream of Severus; this quickly eased her mind that maybe she just skipped her cycle due to stress. Ron had not even climaxed that night, so pregnancy was unlikely. To be sure, Hermione cast a charm she had learned during her seventh year, and confirmed she was not pregnant.

By the time Monday rolled around, Hermione could not wait to go back to the office and lose herself in her work. Even Mr. Spawn, after losing his apprenticeship, seemed a bit more bearable. His ego had been knocked down a few notches, as there was now no apprenticeship to look forward to. By the time Monday evening came, Hermione could not wait to escape to Severus' for a while to unwind and find comfort by his presence alone.

The amicable silence was broken when Severus asked, “Would you care to tell me about your weekend?”

Severus had received an owl from Draco in the middle of the day, informing him that Hermione might be in a mood to match Ginny's. The younger wizard had taken the whole day off to spend it in his flat with Ginny, celebrating her birthday in private, and had sent the note off to Severus while Ginny took a midday nap. The Potions master was aware of some of the gross details of the weekend concerning Ginny's party at the Burrow, but nothing more.

“Do you really want to hear in excruciating detail my account of suffering through the Dinner Party From Hell Saturday night, and then being forced to socialize with my manipulative mother-in-law yesterday at a birthday party?” Hermione asked dryly.

“When you put it that way, of course not.”

“To retell it would be to relive it. The only highlight of the weekend was dress shopping with a friend, and buying a couple of very nice dresses; however, I doubt you want to hear about the latest fashions, despite how much of my backside was exposed Saturday night, or how my husband complained about how revealing my dress was.” She tried to raise one brow to accentuate her point, but as Hermione lacked that particular skill, she wound up looking more wide-eyed than sarcastic.

Severus smirked. “If you are talking about wearing something revealing, then I am not adverse to listening in detail to what your dress looks like. You can skip the part about your husband's complaining,” he added indifferently. To add sincerity to his first comment, he scooted a little closer to Hermione and lightly stroked her hand that was resting along the back of the settee.

Hermione ducked her head down and blushed.

There were moments when Hermione would revel in the sexual overtures Severus made towards her, and she would mentally roll around in them like a dog on the summer grass. Then there were times, like this, when she felt completely inexperienced and out of her depth. Though Hermione was no virgin, she certainly had never fully experienced her burgeoning femininity until she had met Severus in this particular arrangement. It was only in the past several weeks that she began to understand the power of her own sexuality, and how that power ebbed and flowed between witch and wizard in the play of words and actions.

A feeling of confidence stole over Hermione. Playing the demure tease, she lifted her eyes to Severus', which lay hidden behind his half-mask, and coyly replied, “Maybe I'll just have to wear the dress sometime so you can judge for yourself if my husband had cause to be upset.”

Hermione could not believe she was forward enough to say such things, but something about Severus brought a level of ease that made her say things she would not normally utter.

Severus rose from the settee and extended his hand to Hermione, knowing if they did not start lessons soon, the temptation between them would mount once more. It was better to be concentrating on dancing and the vision of Hermione's backside in a revealing dress, then to sit next to her and be tempted to just remove her clothes and find out what her backside looked like with no clothes on.

Besides, Saturday's visit at the spa was only just five days away.

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

Thursday night could not come soon enough for Hermione and Severus.

Willingly robbed of sight for the night, Hermione let the familiar hand on her back and arm guide her to her dinner seat. This was part of the Thursday night ritual Hermione looked forward to. Severus would disappear into the kitchen and bring out some savory dish he had prepared, and Hermione's faith that men could do more than just eat food would be restored once more.

As Mrs. Weasley waited with anticipation to learn what Severus had prepared, she inhaled, hoping to detect a whiff of tonight's menu. The only thing she could smell were flowers. Smelling the air once more, she identified the scent as gardenia.

Smiling to herself, Hermione recalled the symbolism behind that particular flower. It had two meanings, and she wondered which one applied, or perhaps if Severus intended to use it because of both meanings.

'Which of the two does he mean? Does Severus truly think I'm lovely? Or does he have a secret love – for me?' She felt a contented warmth glow inside of her, flattered that Severus could mean either one.

Hermione heard Severus return with the food and place the dishes down on the table. There was the sound of scraping and sloshing. Hermione was tempted to peek, as Severus had not put a charm on her blindfold this time, but she refrained.

“I thought that since it has been so hot lately, we'd have a cold dinner tonight,” Severus announced. “I have a chilled soup, so if you'll allow me, I'll place a charm to protect your clothes in case you spill.”

Hermione gratefully accepted his offer.

Taking a sip of the soup, she said with surprise, “This is gazpacho!”

“Correct,” Severus replied. “I'm surprised you recognized the dish. This is not exactly a common soup in England.”

Of course Hermione recognized the soup. It tasted just like Ginny's gazpacho. “Where did you learn this dish, then?” she queried.

“My mother came from Spain, so of course there were some recipes she taught to me.”

“Really? What other ones?” Hermione asked, wondering what other dishes Ginny may have learned from Severus.

“Paella, chicken in sherry sauce, a few casseroles. Simple food, really.” Severus was pleased that Hermione seemed interested in learning more about him, especially since he knew Hermione better than she did of him.

“Did your mother teach you how to make that wonderful mango chutney you served with the lamb last week?” Hermione was really surprised that his mother was from another country, but she supposed that explained Severus' dark features. She guessed that the light skin probably came from his father's side.

“No, I experimented with a few chutney recipes before refining it to the one you had last week,” he informed her.

“Will you share your recipe with me?” Hermione asked. Reaching out her hand, she found Severus' and stroked it lightly to help convince him if he was hesitant to share it.

“I can make a copy of it for you, but if you wish to make your own, you will have to do it soon. Mango season will last only one more month. After that you will have to wait until next May before you will have a chance to make it.” Severus pondered an idea, then decided to make the offer anyway. “Perhaps if you come over some weekend before mango season ends, I can help you prepare and can a batch of your own.”

It was a very attractive offer to Hermione. She wondered if she could get out of going to one of Ron's Quidditch games with the lie that she had errands to run all day long, or perhaps she could come on a Sunday and spend the afternoon with Severus instead of staying home and doing all the housework while Ron avoided chores.

“Thank you, I think I would like that very much. Maybe in a couple of weeks. I'll have to check when I can get away.” Hermione did not bother to hide her enthusiastic smile.

Severus and Hermione began to eat the cold poached salmon that he served with a chilled cucumber-dill sauce. Hermione ate a little slower than normally, as she was deprived of sight and had to maneuver her food onto her fork while blindfolded.

While Hermione was happily talking away, Severus quietly aimed his wand at the mirror he had carefully positioned so that he could see Hermione and himself in the reflection. He had already cast the Concupisco Aliquid Charm on the silvered glass; all he needed to do was activate the charm to see Hermione's physical desires reflected in the mirror.

At first nothing happened. It merely showed Hermione eating and talking happily with Severus. He wasn't even sure he had cast the charm correctly until he remembered that the charm would show all physical desires, not just ones of a sexual nature. To test to see if the charm really was in affect, the raven-haired wizard reached out and lightly stroked the top of Hermione's hand, curling one finger underneath to graze her inner wrist.

The mirror shimmered momentarily. Severus watched the mirror, transfixed by the sight of himself kissing his way up Hermione's arm to bury his face at the base of her neck. It truly was a feat in concentration to hold a conversation with the witch sitting across from him while he watched her carnal desires played out in front of him in the looking glass across the room.

At one point, Hermione noticed Severus seemed a little distracted. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, it's just that I'm feeling a bit warm. If you don't mind, I think I may unbutton another button on my shirt and roll up my sleeves. I think the heat is bothering me a little. Or shall I cast another Cooling Charm?” he offered.

Severus watched as the mirror version of Hermione began unbuttoning his shirt with haste, practically ripping it off his body in the process, while placing hungry kisses along his chest, progressing lower and lower towards the waistband of his trousers.

“Actually, I think a Cooling Charm would be a good idea,” Hermione replied, distracting Severus with her reply.

Severus turned to look at Hermione, but when his gaze returned to the mirror, the vision had changed to show the witch fanning herself in an attempt to cool down. In order to be able to finish his dinner without incident or doing something to embarrass himself, he turned off the charm on the mirror. Perhaps while they danced he could have the charm on, but then he decided it might be a bad idea to be so distracted that he would do something as foolish as stepping on Hermione's toes because he was too busy gawking at the mirror. It seemed his brain could not function properly while watching erotic images of him and the object of his own desires in compromising positions.

Focusing back on Hermione, he asked her how her Tuesday night counseling session went. She told him that it was nothing of note, other than painful and uneventful.

In turn, Hermione asked how his week had been, hoping that Severus would not view this as prying, but sincere interest in him.

He weighed the option of telling Hermione honestly about his meeting the day before with Calpurnia Fudge. Severus had listened to her prattle on about a masked Halloween Ball she had had the brilliance to come up with, and how the past cotillion season was just a complete disappointment, and perhaps a masked ball would make up for it.

Instead, Severus decided to be vague and slightly evasive. “It has been uneventful so far.”

He could have told Hermione about some hasty research he had done that week regarding temporary hair dye, but shelved that topic for another night.

“I'm sorry if I seem like I am being nosy. I won't ask you again,” Hermione apologized.

“No, you weren't being nosy. If there was anything of interest, I would have shared it with you. But some things I cannot tell you at this point. Perhaps later,” Severus said somberly. “Patience.”

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

Hermione wondered if the salmon did not agree with her. She had been feeling a little off since they moved from the dinner table to the settee. And she suddenly felt a little tired, but chalked it up to the heat and long-term stress of the past several weeks.

Since dinner had been a light affair, they rested only for a little while before starting dance lessons. Into the third song of the evening, Hermione knew she was definitely not feeling well, but soldiered on until she noticed a familiar sensation.

“Excuse me. I really need to go to the toilet.” Hermione let Severus guide her to the bathroom door, and she rushed inside.

Once the door was shut, Hermione ripped off her blindfold. She knew exactly why she was feeling tired and unwell.

“Brilliant,” she muttered mutinously to herself. 'The Old Crone would have to come for a visit right now.'

Fortunately for Hermione, Severus had a well-stocked bathroom to meet his female clients’ needs.

After taking care of herself, Hermione looked about the counter for a bottle of A Little Witch's Best Friend. Hermione always kept a supply at home for herself, but she was not at home, and her period had come when she had expected to have skipped until next month. Just her luck, he didn’t have this particular potion.

While in the bathroom, there was a moment when Hermione weighed the option of emerging without her blindfold on, but in her current state, she did not want to change the status quo. Besides, she was the sort of person who never peeked at her presents before Christmas, and she enjoyed the anticipation of the day when Severus would finally take his mask off for her.

Severus wondered if Hermione was all right, as she seemed to practically run into the bathroom. When she emerged, she was looking a little pale and peaked.

“All you all right?” he asked with concern, escorting a weary blindfolded Hermione to the settee.

She hated it when her period would come. The fatigue would suddenly overtake her once it started. Usually, Hermione just wanted to curl up in bed and go to sleep after taking her cramping relief potion, which she would have to do without tonight until she could make it home. But she didn't want to go home so quickly and leave Severus. There was only this night and one more meeting before her anniversary.

“I think I'd better rest right now.” Then, remembering that raspberry leaf extract was one of the major ingredients in A Little Witch's Best Friend, she asked, “Would it be too much bother to ask for a cup of raspberry leaf tea?”

Severus understood completely. He could now see why she looked put out. After all, he was versed in Anatomy and Potions, and served for many years as Head of Slytherin. In that position, he often dealt with young witches during their cycles who had required discreet permission slips to suddenly go the infirmary. Hermione shifted uncomfortably on the settee and pressed her hands and arms along her abdomen.

“I'll fetch you some tea myself,” he announced, and went into the kitchen.

As Severus placed the kettle on the cooker, he summoned Marf.

“Yes, master?” the house-elf warbled.

“Please go out to Mrs. Weasley and ask if there is any potion you can fetch for her,” he said quietly so that Hermione would not overhear him speaking to the house-elf.

Marf disappeared and Severus remained in the kitchen until the tea was ready. With his experience over the years, the Potions master was comfortable with the idea of women's bodily functions. However, he knew that witches preferred to keep things discreet, as most wizards tended to have a horrific aversion to this singular aspect of women.

When Marf returned to the kitchen, Severus went back out to the main room with a fresh pot of raspberry tea. An empty bottle of A Little Witch's Best Friend was on the low table, and Hermione was curled up on her side on the small settee.

Upon hearing Severus return, Hermione sat up and apologized this time for lying down.

Severus stood before her and held out his hand. “Stand.”

Hermione said pleadingly, “I really would love to, but I'm not feeling quite up to any more dancing right now.”

Severus continued standing in front of her and said gently once more: “Stand.”

Reluctantly, Hermione blindly reached out her hand, and let him help her up.

Turning around, Severus flicked his wand, and his bed unfolded itself from against the wall. Guiding her to the bed, he gently commanded her to lie down and rest.

Hermione let her shoes slip from her feet as she curled up on Severus' bed, listening to her friend go back to the low table and pour her a cup of raspberry leaf tea.

After sitting up momentarily to take a sip of hot tea, she lay back down and smiled weakly in the general direction of Severus. “Thank you.”

Severus set the cup of tea on his bedside table, and moved around to the other side of the bed to sit next to Hermione.

Hermione rolled over so she could at least reach out and touch Severus, and went back into a fetal position.

“Has the potion helped?” the Potions master asked.

“It helps with the cramps, but does nothing to relieve the fatigue that happens that first day,” she answered.

“Have you tried taking it with an Invigoration Draught?” he asked, curious to the effects of combining the two different potions.

“I tried that once, but swear I'll never try that again.” She groaned just from the memory of it.

“What were the effects of taking both potions?” Severus asked, now truly intrigued. It had been a while since he had a good Potions problem to contend with.

“You know how when people are suffering from trauma and bleeding, they are given a sedative and not a stimulant?”

“Yes...” he prompted her.

“There is a reason why. Anything to increase circulation and metabolic rate tends to encourage more bleeding. And the Invigoration Draught tends to counter many of the pain-killing properties in A Little Witch's Best Friend,” Hermione explained.

“Well, what ingredients are in A Little Witch's Best Friend?” he asked.

“Raspberry leaf extract, black cohosh, chamomile, shepherd's purse, woodruff... I can't remember the rest. This potion usually sedates me enough so that I don't feel the pain, but makes me where I'm a little muddled,” she admitted.

Severus cast a Summoning Charm to retrieve the empty bottle, and reviewed over the list of ingredients.

Hermione just enjoyed the feeling of lying down on a nice, comfortable bed, and could sense Severus on the bed next to her. She started to drift off when she heard Severus snort and huff a few times.

“What's the matter?” Hermione asked, knowing there was something bothering him.

“Tell me: Is this the only potion on the market for feminine complaints of this nature?” the Potions master asked.

“I don't know. It's what Madam Pomfrey always gave me at school,” she replied, too groggy from the potion to pretend Severus would not know that she was referring to the healer at Hogwarts. “There are a few others, but the list of ingredients tends to be the same, so I stay with this brand, because I'm familiar with it.”

Severus gave another snort of disgust. 'No wonder some of my female students looked like they were in a potion-induced haze,' he thought. Now he wished he had paid more attention to what Poppy doled out to the students.

“It's no wonder you want to curl up and go to sleep after taking this. It's mostly a sedative and analgesic. This potion lists that it includes chamomile, but does not list if it uses Roman or German chamomile. And it states thyme, but doesn't say which variety of thyme it uses. And once again for marjoram, wild or otherwise. Why it does not include balm is beyond me. At least there is storkbill in this inadequate potion.”

Hermione hummed to acknowledge she heard Severus. She laid there quietly absorbing his self-lecture on what was wrong with A Little Witch's Best Friend, listening to the sound of his voice and finding comfort in the way it lulled her into a more restful state.

“A tonic that would relieve a witch for such problems should have elecampne,” the Potions master continued with his rant. “And not to mention mugwort and parsley,” he added.

“You'd think a Potions mistress would come up with something better,” Hermione mumbled drowsily into her pillow. “Something that relieves the pain while keeping you alert.”

“Considering the small ratio of Potions mistresses to Potions masters, I'm not surprised one hasn't gotten around to it,” he commented.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, suddenly feeling a little more alert with Severus' last statement.

“When you applied for all those Potions apprenticeships, how many were masters and how many were mistresses?”

Hermione had never noted the number of Potions mistresses she had owled for an apprenticeship. Now that she thought about it, there were only two out of thirty who were witches. “About twenty-eight masters and two mistresses.”

Severus hummed in agreement, accentuating his point. “Looking from this ingredient list, I would guess a wizard created this potion roughly based on a list of complaints written down by a witch with no regard to researching any herbs that would actually help her ailment. There are other herbs that would treat the problem without drugging a witch into such a stupor that she wouldn't care she was in a fog, unless that was the Potions master's intention.”

“Well, anyone who could come up with a better elixir that could take care of the pain with none of the drowsiness would make a small fortune,” Hermione said sleepily before drifting off, enveloped in the scent of Severus that permeated his bed clothes and pillow. She tried to remember to ask Severus why there weren't more Potion mistresses, but was asleep before she could ask her question.

In her journey to the dream world, she reached out and draped her arm over Severus' thigh.

Startled by the contact, he wondered what Hermione was doing, but soon realized that she had gone to sleep. He stretched out a tentative hand and stroked her back and side. Hermione's innate response was to snuggle closer to the stimulus. Gazing down at her prone form curled up against his leg and hip, he realized this was the first time she had ever been on or near his bed. This was not what he had hoped for when finally getting Hermione into his bed, but there was a certain level of contentment gained from seeing her like this. For a moment, he idly thought it would not be so bad to go to sleep every night with her in his bed like this, only to wake up to the same simple, yet fulfilling scene.

There was the temptation to lie down next to her and let their bodies mold into one another. The probability that Hermione would cuddle up and spoon against him was likely.

'Patience,' he told himself. He had asked for it from Hermione when she asked about his life earlier that night, and he would have to exercise it with pursuing Hermione. It wasn't so much chasing after this witch, but waiting for her to come to her decision clearly. The witch had asked for a little patience from him as well, and he would wait. If the reward to reap was a willing and guilt-free Hermione in his bed, then he would gladly wait.

“Marf,” Severus called out quietly.

The house-elf appeared next to the bed, eagerness brimming in his large eyes.

“Please go to my office at work and fetch me my copy of Lakshmi's Gifts to All Women. It's a green leather-bound tome written in Sanskrit. You'll find it on the bookshelf to the right of the door on the second shelf from the top,” he carefully instructed Marf. “And there is one other book I want you to fetch for me, Madame Repeter's Guide to New World Plants. It's on the shelf just below the other book.”

He knew exactly where those particular books would be, as he had referenced them recently when researching the natural lubrication potion for witches he had just developed.

Marf returned quickly and handed him the books, careful not to wake up his master's guest.

Severus began leafing through the two books, looking up the properties of certain herbs that he thought might help Hermione. To think that something so ineffective had been on the market for so long without a better potion coming along astounded him. He was surprised that Miss Brown had not approached him with the prospect of creating a more effective elixir that would ease the pain and cramping, while allowing the witch to stay alert. If Miss Brown was not so set to get this new product line of temporary hair dyes tested and ready by September first, he would drop that project.

It was that damned masked Halloween ball that had put some of his other research on hold while developing an array of colors one could apply to the hair and easily wash out with no trace. There were charms one could do to change the color of one's hair, but charms, especially for the less than talented, were unpredictable and could fail at the most inconvenient times; at worst, the color would be far from the one desired and the charm irreversible. Miss Brown wanted a huge selection of colors available in time so that people could get robes and dresses to match their masks and colored hair.

After a few hours, Hermione began to stir. She still had an arm draped over his thigh, and his buttocks were getting a little sore from sitting in the same spot for so long. He could have removed Hermione's hand, but he instead chose to sit and continue to feel her snuggled up alongside of him.

Noticing her blindfold had skewed slightly, Severus summoned his mask with his wand, as he had the freedom of not wearing one that night so far. He could easily guess that Hermione would wake and not remember where she was, or why she was wearing a blindfold.

Hermione felt so comfortable and relaxed as she awoke. Fluttering her eyes open, she wondered why it was so dark, but then felt the blindfold over her eyes. She was about to reach up and remove it, but then remembered why she was wearing it.

Severus watched Hermione's movements and her momentary disorientation. He decided to have a bit of fun with her.

“Good morning,” he said warmly.

“WHAT?” Hermione shouted and bolted upright in bed.

Severus chuckled that he had gotten the effect he had been shooting for. In order to show her a little mercy, he said, “Don't worry, it's only ten-thirty.”

“Ten-thirty in the morning? Oh, no! I'm late for work, and Ron will wonder where I've been and—” she began rambling, ready to rip off her blindfold and run out the door.

“I'm joking. It's not morning,” Severus assured her, placing a calming hand over hers which was reaching for the blindfold. “It's still Thursday night. It's ten-thirty in the evening,” he informed her, still amused at her panicked reaction.

Severus felt rather pleased with himself that he had given her a little harmless teasing that resulted in such a reaction; it made up for the lost bet and teasing she had given him the previous week. Of course, he would still try and see her secretly at the spa in a few days.

“Ooh!” the witch huffed in irritation. Hermione flopped back down on the bed. Rolling back on her side, she blindly reached out for Severus' leg; and when she found it, she gave him a light smack on the leg. “That's for playing such a cruel joke on me,” she scolded him.

Severus could have easily straddled her and pinned her down, restraining her so that she could not assault him anymore. It would be too easy to return the playful slap with more roughhousing, but that would be testing the limits of his restraint. It was already too tempting with Hermione lying there in his bed blindfolded. A flick of his wand and she could be laid out nude, spread-eagle on his bed.

Of course he wouldn't do that, unless she asked him to.

Severus decided that his resolve was wearing thin, and it was better to send Hermione away for the night than suffer from his unfulfilled desires tempting him to be rash.

“You should go home and rest,” he told her.

Severus retrieved her cloak while Hermione sat up and blindly smoothed herself down; knowing her clothes probably looked a bit rumpled.

Once her cloak was on, Hermione turned and embraced Severus. “I still had a lovely time, despite...” She paused, hugging him tighter. “Thank you. I'm sorry I fell asleep on you once more.”

“Don't worry about that. I still had your company as you slept,” he said quietly.

'Only one more meeting left,' they both thought.

“Until Monday,” Severus said.

“Until Monday.”
============

A/N: Thanks to GinnyW for the chapter title suggestion, a quote from Aristotle. And thanks to my betas (in random order): Horserider, JuneW, and Ginny. And extra round of thanks to GinnyW and okon (cocoachristy) for being my sounding boards as I write each chapter.

According to records, on Sunday August 10, 2003, it was 38.5 Celsius (101.3 F) in Kent.
Concupisco: (Latin) to covet, aim at, desire eagerly.
Aliquid : (Latin) someone, somebody, something.
The herbal property differences between Roman chamomile (Anthemis nobilis) and German chamomile (Matricaria chamomilla) is that German chamomile is an antiphilogistic (an agent which reduces inflammation), and a calmative; while Roman chamomile does not have those properties. The Roman and German chamomiles are both anodynes (an agent that soothes or relives pain) and antispasmodics. (“The Herb Book” by John Lust.)
According to “The Herb Book,” mother of thyme (Thymus serpyllum) has been used to relieve painful menstruation; whereas garden thyme (Thymus vulgarus) is commonly for throat and bronchial problems, and a warm infusion promotes perspiration.
Sweet marjoram (Majorana hortensis) is good for gastritis; while wild marjoram (Origanium vulgare) has antispasmodic and calmative properties, along with many others. It is noted in “The Herb Book” that wild marjoram will help relieve abdominal cramps in women, and will regulate a woman's menstrual cycle “if taken three or four days before the regular time.”
Balm has been noted to have antispasmodic, calmative, and emmenagogue (an agent that promotes menstrual flow) properties. Storkbill has been used to treat difficult or excessive menstruation. (“The Herb Book”)
“Lakshmi, the meek, docile wife of Vishnu and a fertility goddess in her own right.” http://sangha.net/hinduism.htm
Peter is the French word for fart. I remember when I took a year of college French (oh, so long ago) that when we used the word “répéte”, we were stressed to use the proper vowel pronunciation. Otherwise, if we asked someone to “répétez” (repeat) what they had just said, and didn't use the proper pronunciation, it sounded like we asked someone to “repetez” (fart again). So of course I had to throw that in somehow. Of course, one cannot read that word and not think of Le Petomane. http://www.johnbarber.com/pujol.html And yes, Mel Brooks did swipe that name for the movie “Blazing Saddles” and used it for his character, Gov. Le Petomaine.
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And They Didn\'t Live Happily Ever After