Old fic repost (Love Potion no. 9, ch 1-2)
Mar. 2nd, 2009 12:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
redorchidsMy first ever fanfic. Read it and weep. :-D
Chapter 1 - Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures
Hermione Granger was annoyed. Very annoyed. Slamming the door to her room, she began pacing the floor. Every now and then she made little angry noises and said things like "that idiot, that stupid bloody idiot!"
The reason for her irritation was - as usual - a certain Mr Ronald Weasley. She'd been trying to gain his attentions for almost three years now and she was still unsuccessful. She didn't like failure. As a matter of fact, she hated it, but at the same time, Ron's reluctance to ask her out seemed only to make him more interesting. He wasn't just a boy she fancied anymore, he was a challenge...
With a groan of despair, she sat down in a comfy armchair next to the fire. Some serious thinking needed to be done. She kind of knew that Ron actually did like her, his jealousy had certainly increased over the years for one thing. She could now barely speak to another guy without Ron being cross with her afterwards. She'd tried to use this jealousy to make him realise he liked her, with abysmal results. She groaned again and put her head in her hands as she thought about the Harry fiasco.
It had seemed like such a good idea at first. She was to make Ron think that she had fallen in love with Harry to spur him into "being a man and taking what he wants in a true caveman-like way," as Ginny had put it. Ginny had insisted that this would work, claiming that the nature of the Weasley man was somewhat barbaric and that they thus never wanted anything that somebody else didn't already want. Hermione thought this to be extremely childish, but then again - she had to remind herself - the only girl Ron had been obviously interested in during their time at Hogwarts was Fleur Delacour - the poster girl for unattainable and universally desired beauty if ever there was one. And she must admit that this seemed indeed to be running in the family. Fleur was presently engaged to Bill, the eldest Weasley brother. The twins - having earned a decent pile of gold on their joke shop - dated only models (Muggle and magical), with a preference for tall, Scandinavian-looking blondes with generous cup-sizes. Percy, having dumped Penelope Clearwater after graduating from Hogwarts, was courting a more "suitable" girl - Fiona Lestrange, second cousin of Bellatrix's husband, with a sizable dowry and connections to boot. Arthur had in his young days - Ginny told her - apparently been quite the stud of Gryffindor House, only noticing Molly when one of his friends told him he wanted to marry her. Even Ginny seemed to have some of this in her, Hermione thought bemused. She was still in love with Harry, a dream she shared with most girls at Hogwarts, and her intense social life was - Hermione suspected - only a way to try and capture his interest. So far, she'd been unsuccessful. Harry, unlike the Weasleys, wouldn't dream of trying to take a girl away from some other guy, and in the constantly depressed state he was in at present, he seemed to have lost the interest for romance altogether. After all, when you know that the odds that you're going to die pretty shortly are over fifty percent, you might hesitate to get romantically involved for fear of hurting your new girlfriend. "At least if you're a decent guy like Harry," Hermione thought. "Ron would probably want to make the most of his time and shag every pretty girl at Hogwarts." She sighed and started rubbing her temples to ease the headache which so frequently visited her these days.
The plan had been simple enough: make Ron think that you're in love with Harry and have him come claim you. Hermione had been very much against the term "claim," thinking it was outdated and very sexist, but Ginny had convinced her that letting the man think he was the powerful party seducing the helpless girl was the only way of capturing a Weasley man. "And," she had reminded her with a sly grin, "it's not like Ron will have the actual power since you're doing all the scheming." Sure enough, but there was still a little voice in the back of Hermione's head asking her if the prize would indeed be worth the effort even if she did win...
The carrying-out of the plan had been a disaster. Harry had been very confused, Ron had been furious with both of them, taking his jealousy to new heights. Hermione had been quite sure of her success for a while, when things were smashing left and right in the Gryffindor common room, but Ron - showing an "unparalleled degree of immaturity, even for a Weasley," as Ginny had put it - had taken the game one step further, making out with Parvati Patil right in front of her, to make her jealous in turn. The tension had been such that Harry had been forced to take Ron off the Quidditch team until he cooled down a bit. It had not been a fun couple of months, that was to be sure, and one of the most worrying parts was that Hermione suspected her scheming to have worked a little too well - Harry was now throwing her weird looks from time to time...
Hermione gave another loud groan and then got to her feet. She was going to succeed. She always did. She just had to. An idea occurred to her. She didn't like it at first, it wasn't a very honest way to achieve her goal, but then again... "Desperate times calls for desperate measures," Hermione said softly to herself. She opened the door next to her bookshelf and walked into the adjoining rooms of the Head Boy. Harry wasn't there, she'd seen him only a little while ago in the Gryffindor common room, staring into the fire. She went over to his trunk and picked up the silvery invisibility cloak. The fabric was so soft it felt like dry water between her fingers. She chuckled at the contradiction, then went back into her own rooms, put the cloak around her, exited her chambers and made way for the dungeons.
***
The stone clapped softly against her shoes as Hermione made her way down the many staircases. The dungeons were dark as usual, and felt even more so, as they acquired a certain menacing glow at night, the torches on the walls turning their flames from a golden red to a cold blue colour. Not a sound was heard except for what little she herself made. The corridors were deserted, and she smirked, remembering how this was no doubt partly due to the little prank some Gryffindor fifth-years had played on Mrs Norris a couple of days back - attaching a hundred bells to her fur with a permanent Sticking Charm and putting an effective end to her bad habit of sneaking up on students without warning. McGonagall still hadn't managed to get them off her (Hermione strongly suspected that this wasn't because of lack of talent) and Filch was morose.
At the door of the Potions Lab, she whispered a soft "Alohomora" and the door swung open without a sound. She entered and started to look through the bookshelf, knowing that what she wanted must be in there somewhere. After about two minutes, she found it and pulled a large book with a deep red cover off the shelf. She excitedly started to look through the index when...
"Miss Granger, pray tell me what on earth you think you're doing."
She spun around, shock making her heart beat at twice its normal speed. The soft, cold voice had come from the far corner, where she knew the door to Snape's private chambers was hidden. She suppressed a long line of ugly words that sped through her mind. Then something hit her - she was still covered by the invisibility cloak. How on earth had he known it was her? As if he had read her thoughts, he advanced toward her and said:
"Now, now, don't be so shocked. Only very few students would come here past midnight looking for a book. Even fewer have easy access to Potter's admirable invisibility cloak. And - a smirk touched his lips - I could smell your horrid perfume from across the room."
He was right in front of her now and she stood paralysed as he slowly lifted his hand and pushed the hood from over her head. His other hand, in the meantime, was raised to her chest and unfastened the clasp that held the cloak together. With a swift movement, he swept it off her and she looked up into his eyes, which were dancing with sadistic pleasure.
"I..." - somehow she couldn't seem to find her voice - ... "I just needed to check a fact about the proprieties of Mandrake root, sir. For a special Herbology project."
She bit her tongue in anger, hearing how unconvincing her excuse was. His lip curled again.
"Indeed. Then pray tell me why you’re holding Legends of Love, which contains no information of the sort, when you know my personal library better than most students. You know very well that I'm not a fool to be trifled with Miss Granger, don't lie to me."
His eyes were cold and she felt them bore into her with unbearable intensity.
"Now tell me, Miss Granger, and please remember that I'm a sufficiently capable Legilimens to detect a lie - what did you need the book for?"
She could think of nothing but to give him an honest answer.
"I wanted to use one of the potions in it, professor."
His gaze did not relent.
"That, my dear, is perfectly evident. Which one?"
"The True Heart Revealed," she said, her voice having been reduced to a whisper.
His eyes gave a small blink of surprise and then the cold humour was back.
"Indeed? Mr Weasley is still keeping the little wits he has about him then?
She blushed scarlet with embarrassment and anger and lowered her eyes. God, how would she ever get out of this one?
Her blushing silence seemed to amuse him even more, and he said in a mocking tone:
"You are aware of the particularity of this Love Potion, I'm sure. I see your arrogance hasn't diminished one bit over the years... The attentions of Mr Krum obviously gave you some quite ridiculous ideas of your own charm and, "he smirked, "beauty."
His words deflated her anger and she felt tears burn behind her eyes. Maybe she was wrong after all... maybe Ron actually didn't like her... The voice at the back of her head told her not to be silly. She felt her anger return as she lifted her head and looked him straight in the eyes.
"I believe that's none of your concern, sir. Take ten points from Gryffindor if you like for me being out past curfew, I don't care. Good night."
And with that, she snatched the Invisibility cloak from his hand and ran out of the dungeons toward Gryffindor tower, the red book clasped beneath her arm.
***
Severus Snape watched the door to his potions lab close with a small bang and let out a small laugh. So, Miss Granger was going to brew a Love Potion to snare the reluctant Mr Weasley... He shook his head. Why she was so hung up on that disgusting little red-head, he'd never understand. It wasn't like he was handsome, and he didn't have a tenth of her intelligence or talent. He supposed Hermione was a girl who liked fixer-uppers, though he doubted she'd be content with the outcome of this particular object. The girl, for all her annoying little habits, was his best student in over ten years, and it was really a shame to waste all that potential on a moronic nobody like Ron Weasley. Well well, her path to realisation might prove an entertaining one, he chuckled to himself.
"Be careful what you wish for, Miss Granger," he whispered softly into the dark, before turning back to his own chambers for a good night's sleep.
***
Hermione's anger was subdued somewhat by the exhaustion which can only be brought by climbing an excessive amount of stairs. When she came back to her rooms, it had faded to sheer determination. Ignoring her tiredness, she sat down in an armchair in front of the fire and turned to the deep red book. She opened the beautifully carved leather cover and let her fingers run over the smooth parchment. The book smelled wonderful, a mix of musk and something else she couldn't identify. It reminded her of something... or maybe someone? "Oh well, it doesn't matter," she thought with a sigh and turned the pages until she found the potion she'd been looking for.
TRUE HEART REVEALED
The potion which reveals the true heart is a most potent one and should only be attempted by an experienced potions-brewer."
She read this with a smile. As top of her class in Advanced Potions, that shouldn't be a problem.
"It takes three days and three nights to prepare, during which time the brewer must abstain from all forms of sexual stimulation in order not to risk contaminating the potion's purity. In its purest state, the potion will reveal only the most tender and chaste of loving emotions. Should it be contaminated (which will show in the colour, being more or less red), the potion will also reveal emotions of a less noble nature. The "True Heart Revealed" is a somewhat uncommon love potion in the sense that it does not create feelings - it only reveals those that already exist in the person who drinks it. If the drinker harbours true, loving feelings for another person, which might be unknown even to him/herself, these feelings will manifest themselves, being impossible to conceal when faced with the object of their desire. If, on the other hand, no loving feelings exist, the potion will be without effect. The "True Heart Revealed" (invented in 1432 by the formidable witch Laetitia Veritas during an experiment with truth-love potion hybrids) can thus not be used to ensnare the heart of a person indifferent to the person who wishes to do so - only ensure affections and wishes hidden from view to be fulfilled.
The effect on the drinker lasts for seven days. The potion, once brewed, is completely clear, odourless and without taste. Since this is a complex truth-love potion to induce sincerity, it cannot be forced on its drinker. It is imperative that the drinker takes the potion out of his/her own free will, knowing fully well what he/she is doing. If the drinker is forced or tricked into taking the potion, it'll lose its effects.
Ingredients and mode of preparation..."
Hermione stopped reading for a second and sat back to contemplate what she'd just read. It was just the potion she needed. She was dead tired of trying to filter out some kind of genuine tender feelings through all of Ron's petty jealousy. Under the effects of this potion, he'd have to be sincere and show some of his more noble feelings... She closed her eyes and let herself be swept away by fantasies of Ron kissing her hand lovingly... Ron reading a poem while looking into her smiling eyes... Ron waltzing with her on a ballroom floor... Ron -
She opened her eyes with a snap. "Crap," she thought, looking back to check the book again. To her horror, there it was: "It is imperative that the drinker takes the potion out of his/hers own free will...” Oh Lord, that would be a big problem. There was absolutely NO way that Ronald Weasley - Gryffindor macho-stud - would consent to drink a love-truth potion to prove his feelings for her. She might as well buy new skates for a mini-break in hell as brew this potion.
And yet, this potion was what she wanted. She didn't want to put Ron under a common love potion, since that would be about as honest as to put an auto-fetch charm on the Snitch in a game of Quidditch. She didn't want to win him like that. It'd be wrong. Very wrong... Her desperation rose within her again, almost bringing tears to her eyes. She sat, staring into space, for a long time, ransacking her brain for a way to solve this problem.
It was well past midnight when she suddenly jumped to her feet and ran into her bedroom. There, she almost fell into her big trunk in her eagerness, looking desperately, searching and finally... with a huge smile on her lips, Hermione took out a very thick, leather-bound book. The cover was green and silver with handsome carvings and engrossed letters. She let her finger caress the smooth leather and felt a shiver of excitement going through her, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. She popped herself on her bed and took parchment and quill from a drawer in her bedside table. She smiled again as she opened the book and let her eyes sweep over the title
Advanced Potion Transfiguration - Modelling Potions to Your Will
by Severus Snape, Hogwarts Potion Master
"Well well, professor. Who would have thought you'd be of such consequence to my love life?" Hermione said with an ironic smirk, turning the page.
Chapter 2 - Strange Events, Stranger Feelings
Hermione started brewing her -slightly modified- potion the very next day. She went up to her room to check on it and add ingredients at every break, warding off Ron's and Harry's questions with period-related excuses. The first two days passed without incident and as Wednesday night came, the potion was on its last leg, only needing to mature on low fire for another twenty hours. Hermione became fascinated by how the sun made the crystal-clear liquid sparkle, as if there were stars floating around in it, and didn't hear the soft knock on her door.
"What are you doing?"
The question made her jump, and she turned quickly around, meeting the curious gaze of Ginny Weasley, who was standing by the door.
"Oh, nothing important," she smiled. "Just an experiment I'm doing for extra potions credits, that's all. Figured I should get ahead a little... what?!" she exclaimed as Ginny let out a laugh.
"Get ahead a little? Seriously Hermione, I'd be surprised if that potion you're brewing is even required for NEWT-level. It's more likely to be something you'd be asked to perform in your last year of an apprenticeship!"
Hermione smiled, not wanting to let her friend know just how much on target she really was. She decided to change the subject.
"So, Ginny, what's going on? How's everything with Dean?"
Ginny blushed a bit before she let out a quiet "fine" and then promptly went over to Hermione's couch and grabbed some chocolates that were on the table.
"Actually, we broke up," she confessed after eating half the box. She looked a bit upset and Hermione sat down next to her, asking her what went wrong.
"Well, I don't know really. I thought everything was going on just fine. And then today, he just starts screaming out of nowhere how I was a crappy girlfriend and that I was only using him to have an excuse to be in his dormitory so I could flirt with Harry, and now that Harry wasn’t in there any more, I’d probably dump him anyway... Oh, and a lot of crap about me being ugly and awful in bed, quite a bit of name-calling... - I think "pathetic botuber pus-covered banshee" was my favourite, you must admit that's rather creative - hmm, am I forgetting anything? Oh yes, there was some screaming about me moaning the wrong name in bed, some more about the way I mess up his hair and some general nastiness. According to him, I'm apparently the worst girlfriend in the world since Vendetta Austère castrated her boyfriend with a Severing Charm and then used his privates in a Stamina-boasting potion for her lover back in 1834." She gave a weak smile, and Hermione could tell that she wasn't as unaffected by Dean's words as she pretended to be.
"Did you really moan Harry's name when you were in bed?" she asked.
"Only once!... or maybe two... or three or seven times more... but why does everybody have to make such a big deal out of it?! I mean, it's just my subconscious working, it doesn't MEAN anything!”
"Oh, come on Ginny!" Hermione snapped "You know you're really in love with Harry and only dated Dean to make him jealous. Seriously, from the way you've been acting when all three of you are together, I'm only surprised that Dean didn't dump you several months ago!”
Ginny's face started to turn red the way it usually did when she got angry, and for a moment, it looked like she would say something really mean. She glared at Hermione, who glared back and then she put her head in her hands and burst into tears. Hermione quickly sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders in order to comfort her crying friend.
"Ginny, listen to me," she said, now in a softer voice." You'll never be able to have a good relationship with another guy if you don't put Harry out of your mind, and you'll never have one with Harry until you stop going after other guys. He's not a Weasley you know, it's not his style to try and steal somebody else's girlfriend..."
Ginny turned her streamed face towards her.
"But then what should I do?" she asked.
"Well, that depends. I'm not really an expert on these matters, but I think you must start by deciding who you really want. Start with Harry and Dean - how do you really feel about them?”
Ginny went silent for a while, and when she spoke, she turned her eyes away, seemingly speaking to her hands.
"Well, I actually really like Dean. He's funny, and smart and pretty sexy, you know. I like being with him, and he is quite good in bed, and he's interesting and listens to me when I speak and is a generally good boyfriend... But then Harry... you know how I feel about him, Hermione! I just can't help it. When he walks in the room or talks to me or -worst of all- smiles, my body just seems to detach from my brain somehow. I can hear myself talking back, acting normal and everything like a weak echo from somewhere far off, and all I can really hear is my heart beating and all I can think about is how badly I just want to grab him and kiss him. I dream about him almost every night, feeling his hands and lips on my skin, looking into those amazing green eyes and running my fingers through his hair... I've made love to him a thousand times in my mind, and every time I see him, it just gets worse. Seriously, the only thing that’s been keeping me from going into his room and just jumping him while he's in bed this past year is the fact that my brother was sleeping in the bed next to him, and even if he seems to be in favour of me dating his best friend, I think he'd go pretty hysterical if he found said friend in the midst of shagging his baby sister thirty feet away from his own bed... And now Harry has his own room and it’s even worse! How will I be able to stay away from him now?" She looked at her friend pleadingly "Really Hermione, what should I do?"
Hermione jerked a little at the question and tried to get her mind to concentrate on giving an answer. It seemed her mind was more interested in letting her body go all warm with sexual tension however. Ginny's words stirred something in her and she felt like invisible hands were caressing her lower back, making her heart beat slightly faster and a flush spread to her cheeks. Her mouth felt strangely dry and she swallowed twice before speaking.
"If you really want my advice, I think you should just come clean to Harry and tell him what you feel. He's pretty shy so don't wait for him to take the first step, just get him alone and kiss him senseless. You're a Gryffindor for God's sake! Show some courage!”
"Says the Gryffindor who's been mooning over my brother for over three years without daring to tell him how she feels!" Ginny exclaimed with a laugh "Don't you think you should take your own advice perhaps?"
"Actually, I'm working on that," Hermione blushed and hurried to get Ginny out of her rooms before the red-head could question her on her course of action. After closing the door behind her friend, she gave a deep sigh and went into her bedroom, practically falling on top of her bed. Thoughts swirled around in her head before she finally fell asleep, still fully dressed and on top of the covers.
***
Her sleep was troubled that night. She dreamt she was in a dark room where she couldn't see anything, only feel that there was another person close to her. A man, rather tall, standing behind her and pressing his hard front to her back. She felt him breathe close to her ear, lifting her hair with one hand to nuzzle at her neck, while the other came around her waist from behind and slowly made its way up across her stomach and chest to cup one of her breasts. She felt her legs go weak and her breathing ragged as the unknown man explored her body with his soft hands, spreading little fires all over it. She let out a soft moan and pressed harder against him, feeling the bulge beneath his robes.
She wanted to turn around and face him, her lips aching to meet his, but he wouldn't let her. He kept her firmly in place with the hand caressing her breasts and circling her nipples. The other hand undid her robes and started to explore her soft skin with experienced movements, going in circles down over her stomach and hips, caressing her butt and thighs, making her grow faint with the want for him. He whispered something in her ear which her dizzy brain couldn't decipher and she only registered the deep melody in his husky voice, which made her heart beat faster still.
She felt his movements becoming more determined as he spread her legs and started to play with her soft folds, tilting her head to kiss her neck and shoulder at the same time. She moaned again and moved against him, trying to reach the buttons of his robes behind her back, desperate to get them off him and feel his skin against hers. He wouldn't let her undress him, and capturing her searching hands with one of his own, he placed them over her head, tying them to soft, silk ropes which seemed to hang from the ceiling. With her body now stretched to its best advantage, he let his hands move over her again, making her cry out with pleasure as he drove her towards her climax. He pressed hard against her as her body shook and, grabbing her thrashing head and pulling it back towards him, he silenced her moans with a deep, passionate kiss, wrestling her tongue with the soft velvet of his own, drinking her desire...
Hermione awoke with a start and tried to calm her body and get her breathing to return to normal. The dream played over and over as soon as she closed her eyes and she hurried to get out of bed, drenching her face in cool water from her nightstand.
As she stood there, letting the water run down her skin and put out the fires still burning there, she suddenly stiffened and then hurried into her other room. On her desk, the potion was simmering serenely, and a sharp gasp escaped her mouth as she noticed it had turned from silvery crystal to the deep pink colour of a spring rose's first blooms...
***
Despite the now less-than-clear colour of her potion, Hermione decided to use it. "After all," she thought, "maybe a little passion wouldn't be so bad." A smile played on her lips as she thought back on the dream that night. If only she could have seen the man's face! She imagined it had been Ron, but then the Ron in her dream had felt so mature, so experienced... "Oh, you're being silly," she told herself. "Of course it was Ron in your dream. There isn't anybody else you fancy so why would your subconscious use anybody but him?"
With a sigh, she put a phial of potion in the pocket of her robes, taking it with her to breakfast.
***
First class that day was Potions and Hermione was - for once in her life - actually late. She'd hung back at the breakfast table, talking to Ron, who already showed signs of increased interest. Finally, he got up, saying he'd better get to Divination or Trelawney would predict his death for an additional half-hour, and walked off towards the North Tower. Hermione had remained in her seat for a couple of minutes, feeling giddy and successful, until she realised, with a sinking feeling, that she was going to be late for Snape. She broke into a run and arrived at the classroom as Snape was already closing the door.
"Miss Granger, you'd want to be a bit more careful," Snape said to her in a dangerously soft voice as he started to close the door behind her, standing so close she could almost feel his breath on her face. "Next time, I just might slip and let this heavy, oak door close on those delicate fingers of yours." He took hold of her hand and lifted it so that their eyes met through the gaps between her fingers as he softly let his index finger follow the outline of each of them in turn, paralysing her with his intense eyes. She felt her breath growing faster and was aware of how hard her heart beat in her chest when BANG! He let the door slam shut, grabbing her hand with an almost painful grip at the same time. Hermione jumped and let out a yelp of shock, which brought the whole class's attention to her where she stood, holding her hands to her chest, watching Snape walk nonchalantly to his desk. She saw him sit down and turn his eyes on the class.
"Miss Granger, if you're not by your cauldron in ten seconds, I'm going to give you detention for delaying my class. Move!"
The cold sneer in his voice was definitely back. She took a deep breath to get control over herself again and swiftly walked to her seat where Neville cast her a worried glance. She pretended not to notice, fixing her eyes on the ingredients before her and started to measure up lacewings on her scale.
***
The lesson that followed was just like Potions with Snape usually was. He bullied Neville some and smirked when the boy dropped his bottle of dragon blood onto the floor, taking 5 points from Gryffindor. He also managed to award Harry zero points for his potion, claiming that the colour was turquoise and not aquamarine and gave him an additional detention with Filch for answering back to one of Draco Malfoy's many insults.
Hermione worked quietly the entire time, trying to block out any sound and focus entirely on her potion. Her wand was trembling - she could still feel Snape's smooth skin against her sensitive fingers. She didn't look towards the teacher's desk all class, but she felt as though those dark eyes never left her, that they followed her every movement and registered every bit of her discomfort. He was making her feel extremely uncomfortable and she was scared to do anything else that might annoy him. In her confusion, she forgot to watch out for the green sparks flying in all directions from Neville's cauldron. One of them made contact with the smooth surface of her own potion, and without warning, the whole thing exploded, spraying Hermione, Neville and five people close to them with the brilliantly aquamarine liquid of Sleeping Potion. Hermione only had time to see Snape curse and run from his desk before the world blackened and she fell to the floor...
***
When she opened her eyes again, the world was still dark. She looked around her and realised that she was in the hospital wing, which confused her for a second until the memory of the exploding potion came back to her. She immediately started to fret about what Snape would do to punish her. She could see his smug smile before her, telling her that her mark would be lowered for the semester. Her thoughts went in more and more depressed circles when they were interrupted by someone taking her hand and squeezing it gently.
She turned her head to see who was there and met worried, deep-green eyes. She smiled faintly and saw the other face respond with a small smile of its own.
"Welcome back, Hermione," Harry said in a soft voice, lifting her hand to his face and pressing it against his cheek. "I was worried about you." He moved her hand against his soft skin and turned his head to place a kiss in her palm. She felt her throat thicken, and when she spoke, her voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.
"I feel just fine, Harry. There's no need for you to worry about me. Seriously, it was just a stupid sleeping potion..."
Trying to reassure him, she let her fingers move over his cheek and into his hair, playing with some silky strands and massaging the back of his head. He drew a sharp breath and she felt a tremble going through him. "He's really upset!" she thought, anxiously.
"Really Harry, I'm quite all right. Just calm down, please!" she pleaded.
His eyes met hers and she noticed a burning glow deep inside them. He moved closer, sitting down next to her on the bed, and leaned down to push some stray curls from her face.
"When I saw you fall to the floor, my insides just froze, Hermione. I know it's stupid, but you looked just like Sirius when he fell through that damned veil! Even the expression on your face was the same, that look of surprise... not realising..." His voice was trembling now and she could see his eyes getting shinier, could see the tears he was fighting to keep back... He leaned even closer, so that he came to rest his forehead against hers, his fingers caressing her cheek and her hair as if they were moving on their own accord... His voice shook even more as he continued.
"I thought you were dead --- and it was the worst moment of my life. It... it was like a thousand Dementors had come for me at once... and I... I just couldn't think... It hurt so much Hermione! I thought nothing could hurt more than it did when Sirius died, but I was wrong... so wrong! Watching you fall, it was beyond torture, beyond the pain of Cruciatus or possession... It was just unbearable. Oh God, I'm so happy you're not dead!"
Tears started to run from his eyes and she pulled him up next to her on the bed and into a hug, stroking him in comfort.
"Hush Harry, I'm alright... shh... I'm just fine, I promise..." she whispered in his ear, trying to ease his pain, trying to get him to calm down and see that there was nothing to worry about.
He hugged her tighter and then came back to rest his head against her forehead, looking deep into her eyes and caressing her face.
"You're alive... you're really here..." he mumbled, touching every part of her face like he wanted to make sure she wasn't just an illusion. "Thank God, you’re still here... losing you... I just can't... I just love you too much Hermione..."
And then he kissed her, bending his head and taking her lips with a passion she'd never suspected in him. She felt his tears wet her face as he entangled both his hands in her curls and pulled her to him to deepen the kiss. She could feel his need and desperation to prove to himself that she was really there, and her heart went out to him. Her head started to twirl and she felt dizzy and confused and touched that he cared so much about her. Her hands buried themselves in his already messy black hair and she kissed him back, opening her heart and pouring all her love into their kiss, trying to bring him back to the light.
After several minutes, the desperation faded from his touch and his kisses became softer, more lingering. He slowly explored her mouth with his tongue and then broke their connection after a last, soft kiss. They stared into each other's eyes, amazed by the kiss they'd just shared and the feelings that had seemed to flow between two connected hearts. Hermione did not know how long they stayed like that. She was brutally pulled back to reality by the sudden sound of footsteps, walking up the stone steps to the Hospital Wing. She looked back at Harry and saw him smile softly before he whispered "Bye Hermione" and slid quietly from the bed, disappearing under his invisibility cloak and moving quietly down the corridor towards the exit.
She saw the door slid open and close with a soft "thud". Seconds later it opened again, and a dark figure made its way purposefully towards her bed.
***
Hermione heard the steps come closer and turned her head to the side, pretending to be asleep. She was still too stunned by what had just passed between her and Harry to talk to somebody else. Also, the steps had suggested an adult and she really didn't feel like talking to any of the teachers right now - it was probably just Professor Dumbledore coming to check on her anyway...
She felt the person come to a stop next to her bed, and with a small shock, she felt her blanket slowly being pulled off her. Cool night air stroked her body and she gave an involuntary shiver as her skin reacted to the cold air. Pretending to wake up, she turned her head slowly and met the eyes of her Potions professor.
"Good evening, Miss Granger," he said in his dangerously soft voice. "I figured that the effects of the potion you splattered yourself with this morning should have worn off by now. After all, the other students were fit to go back to their normal activities by dinner."
Hermione didn't know what to say to that. She was freezing and so she sat up, trying to reach the blanket, which was now at her feet, and pull it back to her chin. Before she could reach it, two strong hands pressed her back against the mattress, leaving the blanket at the end of the bed.
"I wasn't finished, Miss Granger," he said, as he leaned over her, holding her down. "It's considered common courtesy in the wizarding world to keep still and quiet until the person who talks to you has had his say." His lip curled. "But then again, as a Muggle-born, I guess you wouldn't be too familiar with the more civilised ways of address and conversation... interesting to know that even an irksome little know-it-all such as yourself has its limits..."
Hermione felt a pang of emotion at the comment. Tears welled up behind her eyes but she forced them back. She would not give Snape the satisfaction of knowing that he'd hurt her. She looked up at him defiantly.
"If you don't mind, Professor, I would very much like to have my blanket back and go to sleep. I don't think Madam Pomfrey will approve if I get a cold and you'd probably want to release me as well - holding one of your students down on a bed in the middle of the night isn't exactly proper behaviour, now is it?"
Anger flashed in his eyes, and in one swift movement, he took hold of her wrists and pinned them down above her head with one hand as he traced the soft skin of her inner arm with one long finger.
"Not proper behaviour, you say?" he said in silky tones. He was leaning closer to her now, black fire burning in his eyes, and she felt a rich, musky scent surround her. "Well, I don't think you should be the one to talk, considering your embarrassing attempt at seduction in my class earlier today. Your body betrays you at every turn - it's pathetic really how little control you have over it..."
As if he wanted to prove his point, he let his finger follow her arm and slide over the soft fabric of her thin nightgown down along her side. She felt her breathing become more difficult and closed her eyes, desperate to fight the heat he was bringing forth in her skin, putting all her forces into appearing indifferent to his touch. "Really," she thought, "what on earth is he talking about? I haven't done anything to him! God, what a repulsing thought! I was still a bit excited about Ron this morning, that's all..."
She took in a sharp breath and her eyes snapped open when his hand suddenly came to circle her nipple and then cup her breast firmly.
"Professor!" she croaked, twisting her body, trying to get her hands free. "Stop this! You've got it all wrong! I wouldn't want your hands on me if you were the last man on earth! Let me go!"
The look in his eyes grew even more intense and she felt branded by the way his gaze swept over her body. His voice was dripping with sarcasm as he said, "Oh yes, I can see that by the way your heart positively pounds in your chest and your nipples harden at my touch." He bent his head down to her right ear and lowered his voice to a soft whisper. "I know the female body Miss Granger. Make no mistake, if I wanted to, I could -with very little effort - make you beg for me to take you right here in this bed, with the risk of Madam Pomfrey or any other teacher walking in at any moment."
His right hand started to play with her nipple and she let out a moan, her body arching to press against his hand seemingly of its own accord. He chuckled and let his hand move lower, tracing intricate figures on her stomach and thighs. She felt her body move and arch to his touch, yearning for the delicious fire his fingers lit in her skin. Her head was spinning out of control and she couldn't seem to think at all. She gasped as a finger brushed against her most sensitive point, rubbing it lightly through the fabric. She tried to speak, but only moans of pleasure escaped her, making Snape's breathing quicken along with his touch.
Then, as suddenly as he'd grabbed her in the first place, his hands left her and he stood up, looking down at her with a wicked smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"I think I've got the point across," he said coldly. "Don't play with fire, Miss Granger, or you might just find your self consumed by it. Luckily for you, I don't find you nearly attractive enough to prove that statement to you"
He started walking towards the door, when he turned and shot her one last look
"Oh, and you have detention tomorrow night at eight because of your abysmal handling of your Sleeping Potion. I'll see you in my office then. Good night."
And with those words, he walked out of the hospital wing, leaving Hermione in her bed trembling from unfulfilled desire and wondering what in hell had just happened.
***
"What the hell just happened?!"
The same thought went through the minds of three people in a very short space of time.
Harry was walking up the stairs to the astronomy tower, feeling like he needed some cool air to clear his head. What in the name of Merlin had got into him back there? He'd just snogged his best friend! What on earth had made him do it?
He reached the top of the tower and sat down in an alcove in the stone wall, looking out over the grounds and up at the stars in the sky. He felt very confused. Confused about the fact that he'd just kissed Hermione. Confused because of what he'd felt when doing it, and most confused about the way she'd kissed him back…
He drew a deep breath and let the memory wash over him. It had been his first kiss since Cho surprised him under the mistletoe just before Christmas in his fifth year – now a little more than a year ago – and he had to admit that the kiss he'd shared with Hermione had been completely different from that. "Well," he thought, "not entirely different, there always seems to be tears involved somehow..." He sighed, but realised that he didn't feel embarrassed by the fact that he'd cried in front of her. Lying there next to her, feeling her soft breathing and her nice smell had made him feel better than he had felt for a very long time. He trusted her... and he loved her. Being so completely honest had been a cleansing experience, like dark shadows were poured out of him. And then the kiss...
Harry closed his eyes and remembered the feel of her lips against his, softly moving, her tongue caressing his... He could still taste her in his mouth and the memory brought a smile to his lips. He still couldn't understand why he'd done it, he'd just felt such an incredible need to at the time, he just couldn't explain it...
And the feelings it had brought with it! Kissing Cho had made him feel a bit tingly and uncomfortable (but he guessed the discomfort was mainly because she'd been crying) and afterwards he'd felt both a bit shocked and a bit elated. His body had been excited and unpredictable around Cho, blushing and hardening and doing other embarrassing things that he had been desperate to hide from her. Kissing Hermione had been completely different. It had felt as though his heart was filling with joy and light was soaring through his body and soul. It was pure and glorious and mystical and it left him feeling incredibly strong. It was like the exact opposite of a Dementor attack, making him forget all that was dark and pulling him into a bright, happy world through the connection of their hearts.
She loved him. He knew - he'd felt it. He was surer of this than of anything - he'd felt her love for him in their kiss, in her touch, in the incredible connection that had been forged between them. She loved him, and he knew he loved her back - he'd even said it to her...
He opened his eyes, staring up into the heavens, searching for some answer up in the diamond-covered sky. He knew they loved each other, but he was unsure what that meant. Was she supposed to be his girlfriend now? God, Ron would kill him! It'd been hard enough to convince him of his disinterest in Hermione last time around. If he -Harry- actually started dating her after this, Ron would go ballistic! And he wasn't even sure he wanted Hermione for his girlfriend... He tried thinking of snogging her the way Seamus and Lavender usually carried on (Harry thought it looked more like sex with your clothes on than kissing) and immediately felt weird. Their kiss had had an almost unearthly feeling to it, a touch of the sublime which didn't match with common physical attraction...
"And here I thought you were only friends," an angry, sarcastic voice interrupted his thoughts. He snapped his head around, meeting the accusing gaze, directed at him from an alcove twenty feet away. Not knowing what to do or how to respond, he simply held that gaze while the other stood up and started walking towards him...
***
Severus Snape closed the door to his chambers with a loud "bang" and leant heavily against it, trying to take control over his body. He tried closing his eyes and breathing deeply, but immediately saw her body flash before his eyes and felt her enticing smell fill his nostrils. This was no good. He swiftly walked into the bathroom and stepped, without even bothering to take his robes off, into a freezing shower.
When he came out, his body had gone back to normal and his mind seemed to be functioning again. He sighed with relief as he got rid of his wet clothes with a wave of his wand and slipped into a deep-green bathrobe. Slowly, he sat into a comfortable chair in front of the fire and conjured a silver goblet filled with a rich red wine onto the table next to him. He brought it to his lips and enjoyed its full taste and smooth texture. Then he set to work, determined to figure out just what the annoying little Miss Granger had done to poison his system against him...
***
Hermione lay completely shocked in her bed in the hospital wing as she watched Snape walk out of the room, looking like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Her body was still burning with unsated desire, but as she heard the door slam shut behind him, the feelings were quickly replaced by a rising shame and she hurried to pull the blanket over her body.
She was mortified by the way her body had responded to him, how she'd been utterly unable to control it. He was right, she was pathetic - no wonder he'd seized the opportunity to use her weakness against her now that she'd handed him the weapon so willingly. God! What mustn't he think of her! A weak, pathetic little girl, making unconscious passes at her much older professor. How he must despise her now! She'd worked so hard over the years to try and gain his respect, and now she'd made sure that she'd never have it. A tear trickled down her cheek as she thought of how he might use this against her. Snide comments she could bear, but she didn't know if she could handle him letting her secret "slip" at the Slytherin table one morning at breakfast and be made the laughing stock of Hogwarts... The shame would be hers alone to carry - he'd shown his dislike for her too many times for her to even question his sincerity. He'd made it quite clear tonight that he'd only suffered touching her to prove his point - that she was a pathetic little girl who couldn't even control her own body.
And then there was Harry... What had happened to him to make him all of a sudden kiss her like that? Did he love her beyond the love for a friend? Was it all her fault because of her stupid plot to try to get Ron to like her? Was Harry under the influence of the potion as well? God, she hoped not! Ginny would kill her - unless Ron beat her to it - if Harry decided he wanted her for a girlfriend. So many people would get hurt, including Harry, because it was Ron she wanted for a boyfriend! It had always been Ron... or had it? Suddenly, she wasn't too sure anymore. Pictures flashed before her eyes: brown eyes, black eyes, green eyes, a hand covering hers on the breakfast table, lips tasting hers, masculine scent embracing her, light shining from her heart, red hair blowing in the wind, white teeth flashing her a smile, a hand cupping her breast, a soft voice in her ear, an ache burning in her loins, tears wetting her face, lips touching her forehead, soft fingers drawing figures on her inner thighs...
"God what a mess!" she groaned, pushing her head into her pillow, trying to suffocate the swirling thoughts in her head.
Next part
Chapter 1 - Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures
Hermione Granger was annoyed. Very annoyed. Slamming the door to her room, she began pacing the floor. Every now and then she made little angry noises and said things like "that idiot, that stupid bloody idiot!"
The reason for her irritation was - as usual - a certain Mr Ronald Weasley. She'd been trying to gain his attentions for almost three years now and she was still unsuccessful. She didn't like failure. As a matter of fact, she hated it, but at the same time, Ron's reluctance to ask her out seemed only to make him more interesting. He wasn't just a boy she fancied anymore, he was a challenge...
With a groan of despair, she sat down in a comfy armchair next to the fire. Some serious thinking needed to be done. She kind of knew that Ron actually did like her, his jealousy had certainly increased over the years for one thing. She could now barely speak to another guy without Ron being cross with her afterwards. She'd tried to use this jealousy to make him realise he liked her, with abysmal results. She groaned again and put her head in her hands as she thought about the Harry fiasco.
It had seemed like such a good idea at first. She was to make Ron think that she had fallen in love with Harry to spur him into "being a man and taking what he wants in a true caveman-like way," as Ginny had put it. Ginny had insisted that this would work, claiming that the nature of the Weasley man was somewhat barbaric and that they thus never wanted anything that somebody else didn't already want. Hermione thought this to be extremely childish, but then again - she had to remind herself - the only girl Ron had been obviously interested in during their time at Hogwarts was Fleur Delacour - the poster girl for unattainable and universally desired beauty if ever there was one. And she must admit that this seemed indeed to be running in the family. Fleur was presently engaged to Bill, the eldest Weasley brother. The twins - having earned a decent pile of gold on their joke shop - dated only models (Muggle and magical), with a preference for tall, Scandinavian-looking blondes with generous cup-sizes. Percy, having dumped Penelope Clearwater after graduating from Hogwarts, was courting a more "suitable" girl - Fiona Lestrange, second cousin of Bellatrix's husband, with a sizable dowry and connections to boot. Arthur had in his young days - Ginny told her - apparently been quite the stud of Gryffindor House, only noticing Molly when one of his friends told him he wanted to marry her. Even Ginny seemed to have some of this in her, Hermione thought bemused. She was still in love with Harry, a dream she shared with most girls at Hogwarts, and her intense social life was - Hermione suspected - only a way to try and capture his interest. So far, she'd been unsuccessful. Harry, unlike the Weasleys, wouldn't dream of trying to take a girl away from some other guy, and in the constantly depressed state he was in at present, he seemed to have lost the interest for romance altogether. After all, when you know that the odds that you're going to die pretty shortly are over fifty percent, you might hesitate to get romantically involved for fear of hurting your new girlfriend. "At least if you're a decent guy like Harry," Hermione thought. "Ron would probably want to make the most of his time and shag every pretty girl at Hogwarts." She sighed and started rubbing her temples to ease the headache which so frequently visited her these days.
The plan had been simple enough: make Ron think that you're in love with Harry and have him come claim you. Hermione had been very much against the term "claim," thinking it was outdated and very sexist, but Ginny had convinced her that letting the man think he was the powerful party seducing the helpless girl was the only way of capturing a Weasley man. "And," she had reminded her with a sly grin, "it's not like Ron will have the actual power since you're doing all the scheming." Sure enough, but there was still a little voice in the back of Hermione's head asking her if the prize would indeed be worth the effort even if she did win...
The carrying-out of the plan had been a disaster. Harry had been very confused, Ron had been furious with both of them, taking his jealousy to new heights. Hermione had been quite sure of her success for a while, when things were smashing left and right in the Gryffindor common room, but Ron - showing an "unparalleled degree of immaturity, even for a Weasley," as Ginny had put it - had taken the game one step further, making out with Parvati Patil right in front of her, to make her jealous in turn. The tension had been such that Harry had been forced to take Ron off the Quidditch team until he cooled down a bit. It had not been a fun couple of months, that was to be sure, and one of the most worrying parts was that Hermione suspected her scheming to have worked a little too well - Harry was now throwing her weird looks from time to time...
Hermione gave another loud groan and then got to her feet. She was going to succeed. She always did. She just had to. An idea occurred to her. She didn't like it at first, it wasn't a very honest way to achieve her goal, but then again... "Desperate times calls for desperate measures," Hermione said softly to herself. She opened the door next to her bookshelf and walked into the adjoining rooms of the Head Boy. Harry wasn't there, she'd seen him only a little while ago in the Gryffindor common room, staring into the fire. She went over to his trunk and picked up the silvery invisibility cloak. The fabric was so soft it felt like dry water between her fingers. She chuckled at the contradiction, then went back into her own rooms, put the cloak around her, exited her chambers and made way for the dungeons.
***
The stone clapped softly against her shoes as Hermione made her way down the many staircases. The dungeons were dark as usual, and felt even more so, as they acquired a certain menacing glow at night, the torches on the walls turning their flames from a golden red to a cold blue colour. Not a sound was heard except for what little she herself made. The corridors were deserted, and she smirked, remembering how this was no doubt partly due to the little prank some Gryffindor fifth-years had played on Mrs Norris a couple of days back - attaching a hundred bells to her fur with a permanent Sticking Charm and putting an effective end to her bad habit of sneaking up on students without warning. McGonagall still hadn't managed to get them off her (Hermione strongly suspected that this wasn't because of lack of talent) and Filch was morose.
At the door of the Potions Lab, she whispered a soft "Alohomora" and the door swung open without a sound. She entered and started to look through the bookshelf, knowing that what she wanted must be in there somewhere. After about two minutes, she found it and pulled a large book with a deep red cover off the shelf. She excitedly started to look through the index when...
"Miss Granger, pray tell me what on earth you think you're doing."
She spun around, shock making her heart beat at twice its normal speed. The soft, cold voice had come from the far corner, where she knew the door to Snape's private chambers was hidden. She suppressed a long line of ugly words that sped through her mind. Then something hit her - she was still covered by the invisibility cloak. How on earth had he known it was her? As if he had read her thoughts, he advanced toward her and said:
"Now, now, don't be so shocked. Only very few students would come here past midnight looking for a book. Even fewer have easy access to Potter's admirable invisibility cloak. And - a smirk touched his lips - I could smell your horrid perfume from across the room."
He was right in front of her now and she stood paralysed as he slowly lifted his hand and pushed the hood from over her head. His other hand, in the meantime, was raised to her chest and unfastened the clasp that held the cloak together. With a swift movement, he swept it off her and she looked up into his eyes, which were dancing with sadistic pleasure.
"I..." - somehow she couldn't seem to find her voice - ... "I just needed to check a fact about the proprieties of Mandrake root, sir. For a special Herbology project."
She bit her tongue in anger, hearing how unconvincing her excuse was. His lip curled again.
"Indeed. Then pray tell me why you’re holding Legends of Love, which contains no information of the sort, when you know my personal library better than most students. You know very well that I'm not a fool to be trifled with Miss Granger, don't lie to me."
His eyes were cold and she felt them bore into her with unbearable intensity.
"Now tell me, Miss Granger, and please remember that I'm a sufficiently capable Legilimens to detect a lie - what did you need the book for?"
She could think of nothing but to give him an honest answer.
"I wanted to use one of the potions in it, professor."
His gaze did not relent.
"That, my dear, is perfectly evident. Which one?"
"The True Heart Revealed," she said, her voice having been reduced to a whisper.
His eyes gave a small blink of surprise and then the cold humour was back.
"Indeed? Mr Weasley is still keeping the little wits he has about him then?
She blushed scarlet with embarrassment and anger and lowered her eyes. God, how would she ever get out of this one?
Her blushing silence seemed to amuse him even more, and he said in a mocking tone:
"You are aware of the particularity of this Love Potion, I'm sure. I see your arrogance hasn't diminished one bit over the years... The attentions of Mr Krum obviously gave you some quite ridiculous ideas of your own charm and, "he smirked, "beauty."
His words deflated her anger and she felt tears burn behind her eyes. Maybe she was wrong after all... maybe Ron actually didn't like her... The voice at the back of her head told her not to be silly. She felt her anger return as she lifted her head and looked him straight in the eyes.
"I believe that's none of your concern, sir. Take ten points from Gryffindor if you like for me being out past curfew, I don't care. Good night."
And with that, she snatched the Invisibility cloak from his hand and ran out of the dungeons toward Gryffindor tower, the red book clasped beneath her arm.
***
Severus Snape watched the door to his potions lab close with a small bang and let out a small laugh. So, Miss Granger was going to brew a Love Potion to snare the reluctant Mr Weasley... He shook his head. Why she was so hung up on that disgusting little red-head, he'd never understand. It wasn't like he was handsome, and he didn't have a tenth of her intelligence or talent. He supposed Hermione was a girl who liked fixer-uppers, though he doubted she'd be content with the outcome of this particular object. The girl, for all her annoying little habits, was his best student in over ten years, and it was really a shame to waste all that potential on a moronic nobody like Ron Weasley. Well well, her path to realisation might prove an entertaining one, he chuckled to himself.
"Be careful what you wish for, Miss Granger," he whispered softly into the dark, before turning back to his own chambers for a good night's sleep.
***
Hermione's anger was subdued somewhat by the exhaustion which can only be brought by climbing an excessive amount of stairs. When she came back to her rooms, it had faded to sheer determination. Ignoring her tiredness, she sat down in an armchair in front of the fire and turned to the deep red book. She opened the beautifully carved leather cover and let her fingers run over the smooth parchment. The book smelled wonderful, a mix of musk and something else she couldn't identify. It reminded her of something... or maybe someone? "Oh well, it doesn't matter," she thought with a sigh and turned the pages until she found the potion she'd been looking for.
TRUE HEART REVEALED
The potion which reveals the true heart is a most potent one and should only be attempted by an experienced potions-brewer."
She read this with a smile. As top of her class in Advanced Potions, that shouldn't be a problem.
"It takes three days and three nights to prepare, during which time the brewer must abstain from all forms of sexual stimulation in order not to risk contaminating the potion's purity. In its purest state, the potion will reveal only the most tender and chaste of loving emotions. Should it be contaminated (which will show in the colour, being more or less red), the potion will also reveal emotions of a less noble nature. The "True Heart Revealed" is a somewhat uncommon love potion in the sense that it does not create feelings - it only reveals those that already exist in the person who drinks it. If the drinker harbours true, loving feelings for another person, which might be unknown even to him/herself, these feelings will manifest themselves, being impossible to conceal when faced with the object of their desire. If, on the other hand, no loving feelings exist, the potion will be without effect. The "True Heart Revealed" (invented in 1432 by the formidable witch Laetitia Veritas during an experiment with truth-love potion hybrids) can thus not be used to ensnare the heart of a person indifferent to the person who wishes to do so - only ensure affections and wishes hidden from view to be fulfilled.
The effect on the drinker lasts for seven days. The potion, once brewed, is completely clear, odourless and without taste. Since this is a complex truth-love potion to induce sincerity, it cannot be forced on its drinker. It is imperative that the drinker takes the potion out of his/her own free will, knowing fully well what he/she is doing. If the drinker is forced or tricked into taking the potion, it'll lose its effects.
Ingredients and mode of preparation..."
Hermione stopped reading for a second and sat back to contemplate what she'd just read. It was just the potion she needed. She was dead tired of trying to filter out some kind of genuine tender feelings through all of Ron's petty jealousy. Under the effects of this potion, he'd have to be sincere and show some of his more noble feelings... She closed her eyes and let herself be swept away by fantasies of Ron kissing her hand lovingly... Ron reading a poem while looking into her smiling eyes... Ron waltzing with her on a ballroom floor... Ron -
She opened her eyes with a snap. "Crap," she thought, looking back to check the book again. To her horror, there it was: "It is imperative that the drinker takes the potion out of his/hers own free will...” Oh Lord, that would be a big problem. There was absolutely NO way that Ronald Weasley - Gryffindor macho-stud - would consent to drink a love-truth potion to prove his feelings for her. She might as well buy new skates for a mini-break in hell as brew this potion.
And yet, this potion was what she wanted. She didn't want to put Ron under a common love potion, since that would be about as honest as to put an auto-fetch charm on the Snitch in a game of Quidditch. She didn't want to win him like that. It'd be wrong. Very wrong... Her desperation rose within her again, almost bringing tears to her eyes. She sat, staring into space, for a long time, ransacking her brain for a way to solve this problem.
It was well past midnight when she suddenly jumped to her feet and ran into her bedroom. There, she almost fell into her big trunk in her eagerness, looking desperately, searching and finally... with a huge smile on her lips, Hermione took out a very thick, leather-bound book. The cover was green and silver with handsome carvings and engrossed letters. She let her finger caress the smooth leather and felt a shiver of excitement going through her, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. She popped herself on her bed and took parchment and quill from a drawer in her bedside table. She smiled again as she opened the book and let her eyes sweep over the title
Advanced Potion Transfiguration - Modelling Potions to Your Will
by Severus Snape, Hogwarts Potion Master
"Well well, professor. Who would have thought you'd be of such consequence to my love life?" Hermione said with an ironic smirk, turning the page.
Chapter 2 - Strange Events, Stranger Feelings
Hermione started brewing her -slightly modified- potion the very next day. She went up to her room to check on it and add ingredients at every break, warding off Ron's and Harry's questions with period-related excuses. The first two days passed without incident and as Wednesday night came, the potion was on its last leg, only needing to mature on low fire for another twenty hours. Hermione became fascinated by how the sun made the crystal-clear liquid sparkle, as if there were stars floating around in it, and didn't hear the soft knock on her door.
"What are you doing?"
The question made her jump, and she turned quickly around, meeting the curious gaze of Ginny Weasley, who was standing by the door.
"Oh, nothing important," she smiled. "Just an experiment I'm doing for extra potions credits, that's all. Figured I should get ahead a little... what?!" she exclaimed as Ginny let out a laugh.
"Get ahead a little? Seriously Hermione, I'd be surprised if that potion you're brewing is even required for NEWT-level. It's more likely to be something you'd be asked to perform in your last year of an apprenticeship!"
Hermione smiled, not wanting to let her friend know just how much on target she really was. She decided to change the subject.
"So, Ginny, what's going on? How's everything with Dean?"
Ginny blushed a bit before she let out a quiet "fine" and then promptly went over to Hermione's couch and grabbed some chocolates that were on the table.
"Actually, we broke up," she confessed after eating half the box. She looked a bit upset and Hermione sat down next to her, asking her what went wrong.
"Well, I don't know really. I thought everything was going on just fine. And then today, he just starts screaming out of nowhere how I was a crappy girlfriend and that I was only using him to have an excuse to be in his dormitory so I could flirt with Harry, and now that Harry wasn’t in there any more, I’d probably dump him anyway... Oh, and a lot of crap about me being ugly and awful in bed, quite a bit of name-calling... - I think "pathetic botuber pus-covered banshee" was my favourite, you must admit that's rather creative - hmm, am I forgetting anything? Oh yes, there was some screaming about me moaning the wrong name in bed, some more about the way I mess up his hair and some general nastiness. According to him, I'm apparently the worst girlfriend in the world since Vendetta Austère castrated her boyfriend with a Severing Charm and then used his privates in a Stamina-boasting potion for her lover back in 1834." She gave a weak smile, and Hermione could tell that she wasn't as unaffected by Dean's words as she pretended to be.
"Did you really moan Harry's name when you were in bed?" she asked.
"Only once!... or maybe two... or three or seven times more... but why does everybody have to make such a big deal out of it?! I mean, it's just my subconscious working, it doesn't MEAN anything!”
"Oh, come on Ginny!" Hermione snapped "You know you're really in love with Harry and only dated Dean to make him jealous. Seriously, from the way you've been acting when all three of you are together, I'm only surprised that Dean didn't dump you several months ago!”
Ginny's face started to turn red the way it usually did when she got angry, and for a moment, it looked like she would say something really mean. She glared at Hermione, who glared back and then she put her head in her hands and burst into tears. Hermione quickly sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders in order to comfort her crying friend.
"Ginny, listen to me," she said, now in a softer voice." You'll never be able to have a good relationship with another guy if you don't put Harry out of your mind, and you'll never have one with Harry until you stop going after other guys. He's not a Weasley you know, it's not his style to try and steal somebody else's girlfriend..."
Ginny turned her streamed face towards her.
"But then what should I do?" she asked.
"Well, that depends. I'm not really an expert on these matters, but I think you must start by deciding who you really want. Start with Harry and Dean - how do you really feel about them?”
Ginny went silent for a while, and when she spoke, she turned her eyes away, seemingly speaking to her hands.
"Well, I actually really like Dean. He's funny, and smart and pretty sexy, you know. I like being with him, and he is quite good in bed, and he's interesting and listens to me when I speak and is a generally good boyfriend... But then Harry... you know how I feel about him, Hermione! I just can't help it. When he walks in the room or talks to me or -worst of all- smiles, my body just seems to detach from my brain somehow. I can hear myself talking back, acting normal and everything like a weak echo from somewhere far off, and all I can really hear is my heart beating and all I can think about is how badly I just want to grab him and kiss him. I dream about him almost every night, feeling his hands and lips on my skin, looking into those amazing green eyes and running my fingers through his hair... I've made love to him a thousand times in my mind, and every time I see him, it just gets worse. Seriously, the only thing that’s been keeping me from going into his room and just jumping him while he's in bed this past year is the fact that my brother was sleeping in the bed next to him, and even if he seems to be in favour of me dating his best friend, I think he'd go pretty hysterical if he found said friend in the midst of shagging his baby sister thirty feet away from his own bed... And now Harry has his own room and it’s even worse! How will I be able to stay away from him now?" She looked at her friend pleadingly "Really Hermione, what should I do?"
Hermione jerked a little at the question and tried to get her mind to concentrate on giving an answer. It seemed her mind was more interested in letting her body go all warm with sexual tension however. Ginny's words stirred something in her and she felt like invisible hands were caressing her lower back, making her heart beat slightly faster and a flush spread to her cheeks. Her mouth felt strangely dry and she swallowed twice before speaking.
"If you really want my advice, I think you should just come clean to Harry and tell him what you feel. He's pretty shy so don't wait for him to take the first step, just get him alone and kiss him senseless. You're a Gryffindor for God's sake! Show some courage!”
"Says the Gryffindor who's been mooning over my brother for over three years without daring to tell him how she feels!" Ginny exclaimed with a laugh "Don't you think you should take your own advice perhaps?"
"Actually, I'm working on that," Hermione blushed and hurried to get Ginny out of her rooms before the red-head could question her on her course of action. After closing the door behind her friend, she gave a deep sigh and went into her bedroom, practically falling on top of her bed. Thoughts swirled around in her head before she finally fell asleep, still fully dressed and on top of the covers.
***
Her sleep was troubled that night. She dreamt she was in a dark room where she couldn't see anything, only feel that there was another person close to her. A man, rather tall, standing behind her and pressing his hard front to her back. She felt him breathe close to her ear, lifting her hair with one hand to nuzzle at her neck, while the other came around her waist from behind and slowly made its way up across her stomach and chest to cup one of her breasts. She felt her legs go weak and her breathing ragged as the unknown man explored her body with his soft hands, spreading little fires all over it. She let out a soft moan and pressed harder against him, feeling the bulge beneath his robes.
She wanted to turn around and face him, her lips aching to meet his, but he wouldn't let her. He kept her firmly in place with the hand caressing her breasts and circling her nipples. The other hand undid her robes and started to explore her soft skin with experienced movements, going in circles down over her stomach and hips, caressing her butt and thighs, making her grow faint with the want for him. He whispered something in her ear which her dizzy brain couldn't decipher and she only registered the deep melody in his husky voice, which made her heart beat faster still.
She felt his movements becoming more determined as he spread her legs and started to play with her soft folds, tilting her head to kiss her neck and shoulder at the same time. She moaned again and moved against him, trying to reach the buttons of his robes behind her back, desperate to get them off him and feel his skin against hers. He wouldn't let her undress him, and capturing her searching hands with one of his own, he placed them over her head, tying them to soft, silk ropes which seemed to hang from the ceiling. With her body now stretched to its best advantage, he let his hands move over her again, making her cry out with pleasure as he drove her towards her climax. He pressed hard against her as her body shook and, grabbing her thrashing head and pulling it back towards him, he silenced her moans with a deep, passionate kiss, wrestling her tongue with the soft velvet of his own, drinking her desire...
Hermione awoke with a start and tried to calm her body and get her breathing to return to normal. The dream played over and over as soon as she closed her eyes and she hurried to get out of bed, drenching her face in cool water from her nightstand.
As she stood there, letting the water run down her skin and put out the fires still burning there, she suddenly stiffened and then hurried into her other room. On her desk, the potion was simmering serenely, and a sharp gasp escaped her mouth as she noticed it had turned from silvery crystal to the deep pink colour of a spring rose's first blooms...
***
Despite the now less-than-clear colour of her potion, Hermione decided to use it. "After all," she thought, "maybe a little passion wouldn't be so bad." A smile played on her lips as she thought back on the dream that night. If only she could have seen the man's face! She imagined it had been Ron, but then the Ron in her dream had felt so mature, so experienced... "Oh, you're being silly," she told herself. "Of course it was Ron in your dream. There isn't anybody else you fancy so why would your subconscious use anybody but him?"
With a sigh, she put a phial of potion in the pocket of her robes, taking it with her to breakfast.
***
First class that day was Potions and Hermione was - for once in her life - actually late. She'd hung back at the breakfast table, talking to Ron, who already showed signs of increased interest. Finally, he got up, saying he'd better get to Divination or Trelawney would predict his death for an additional half-hour, and walked off towards the North Tower. Hermione had remained in her seat for a couple of minutes, feeling giddy and successful, until she realised, with a sinking feeling, that she was going to be late for Snape. She broke into a run and arrived at the classroom as Snape was already closing the door.
"Miss Granger, you'd want to be a bit more careful," Snape said to her in a dangerously soft voice as he started to close the door behind her, standing so close she could almost feel his breath on her face. "Next time, I just might slip and let this heavy, oak door close on those delicate fingers of yours." He took hold of her hand and lifted it so that their eyes met through the gaps between her fingers as he softly let his index finger follow the outline of each of them in turn, paralysing her with his intense eyes. She felt her breath growing faster and was aware of how hard her heart beat in her chest when BANG! He let the door slam shut, grabbing her hand with an almost painful grip at the same time. Hermione jumped and let out a yelp of shock, which brought the whole class's attention to her where she stood, holding her hands to her chest, watching Snape walk nonchalantly to his desk. She saw him sit down and turn his eyes on the class.
"Miss Granger, if you're not by your cauldron in ten seconds, I'm going to give you detention for delaying my class. Move!"
The cold sneer in his voice was definitely back. She took a deep breath to get control over herself again and swiftly walked to her seat where Neville cast her a worried glance. She pretended not to notice, fixing her eyes on the ingredients before her and started to measure up lacewings on her scale.
***
The lesson that followed was just like Potions with Snape usually was. He bullied Neville some and smirked when the boy dropped his bottle of dragon blood onto the floor, taking 5 points from Gryffindor. He also managed to award Harry zero points for his potion, claiming that the colour was turquoise and not aquamarine and gave him an additional detention with Filch for answering back to one of Draco Malfoy's many insults.
Hermione worked quietly the entire time, trying to block out any sound and focus entirely on her potion. Her wand was trembling - she could still feel Snape's smooth skin against her sensitive fingers. She didn't look towards the teacher's desk all class, but she felt as though those dark eyes never left her, that they followed her every movement and registered every bit of her discomfort. He was making her feel extremely uncomfortable and she was scared to do anything else that might annoy him. In her confusion, she forgot to watch out for the green sparks flying in all directions from Neville's cauldron. One of them made contact with the smooth surface of her own potion, and without warning, the whole thing exploded, spraying Hermione, Neville and five people close to them with the brilliantly aquamarine liquid of Sleeping Potion. Hermione only had time to see Snape curse and run from his desk before the world blackened and she fell to the floor...
***
When she opened her eyes again, the world was still dark. She looked around her and realised that she was in the hospital wing, which confused her for a second until the memory of the exploding potion came back to her. She immediately started to fret about what Snape would do to punish her. She could see his smug smile before her, telling her that her mark would be lowered for the semester. Her thoughts went in more and more depressed circles when they were interrupted by someone taking her hand and squeezing it gently.
She turned her head to see who was there and met worried, deep-green eyes. She smiled faintly and saw the other face respond with a small smile of its own.
"Welcome back, Hermione," Harry said in a soft voice, lifting her hand to his face and pressing it against his cheek. "I was worried about you." He moved her hand against his soft skin and turned his head to place a kiss in her palm. She felt her throat thicken, and when she spoke, her voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.
"I feel just fine, Harry. There's no need for you to worry about me. Seriously, it was just a stupid sleeping potion..."
Trying to reassure him, she let her fingers move over his cheek and into his hair, playing with some silky strands and massaging the back of his head. He drew a sharp breath and she felt a tremble going through him. "He's really upset!" she thought, anxiously.
"Really Harry, I'm quite all right. Just calm down, please!" she pleaded.
His eyes met hers and she noticed a burning glow deep inside them. He moved closer, sitting down next to her on the bed, and leaned down to push some stray curls from her face.
"When I saw you fall to the floor, my insides just froze, Hermione. I know it's stupid, but you looked just like Sirius when he fell through that damned veil! Even the expression on your face was the same, that look of surprise... not realising..." His voice was trembling now and she could see his eyes getting shinier, could see the tears he was fighting to keep back... He leaned even closer, so that he came to rest his forehead against hers, his fingers caressing her cheek and her hair as if they were moving on their own accord... His voice shook even more as he continued.
"I thought you were dead --- and it was the worst moment of my life. It... it was like a thousand Dementors had come for me at once... and I... I just couldn't think... It hurt so much Hermione! I thought nothing could hurt more than it did when Sirius died, but I was wrong... so wrong! Watching you fall, it was beyond torture, beyond the pain of Cruciatus or possession... It was just unbearable. Oh God, I'm so happy you're not dead!"
Tears started to run from his eyes and she pulled him up next to her on the bed and into a hug, stroking him in comfort.
"Hush Harry, I'm alright... shh... I'm just fine, I promise..." she whispered in his ear, trying to ease his pain, trying to get him to calm down and see that there was nothing to worry about.
He hugged her tighter and then came back to rest his head against her forehead, looking deep into her eyes and caressing her face.
"You're alive... you're really here..." he mumbled, touching every part of her face like he wanted to make sure she wasn't just an illusion. "Thank God, you’re still here... losing you... I just can't... I just love you too much Hermione..."
And then he kissed her, bending his head and taking her lips with a passion she'd never suspected in him. She felt his tears wet her face as he entangled both his hands in her curls and pulled her to him to deepen the kiss. She could feel his need and desperation to prove to himself that she was really there, and her heart went out to him. Her head started to twirl and she felt dizzy and confused and touched that he cared so much about her. Her hands buried themselves in his already messy black hair and she kissed him back, opening her heart and pouring all her love into their kiss, trying to bring him back to the light.
After several minutes, the desperation faded from his touch and his kisses became softer, more lingering. He slowly explored her mouth with his tongue and then broke their connection after a last, soft kiss. They stared into each other's eyes, amazed by the kiss they'd just shared and the feelings that had seemed to flow between two connected hearts. Hermione did not know how long they stayed like that. She was brutally pulled back to reality by the sudden sound of footsteps, walking up the stone steps to the Hospital Wing. She looked back at Harry and saw him smile softly before he whispered "Bye Hermione" and slid quietly from the bed, disappearing under his invisibility cloak and moving quietly down the corridor towards the exit.
She saw the door slid open and close with a soft "thud". Seconds later it opened again, and a dark figure made its way purposefully towards her bed.
***
Hermione heard the steps come closer and turned her head to the side, pretending to be asleep. She was still too stunned by what had just passed between her and Harry to talk to somebody else. Also, the steps had suggested an adult and she really didn't feel like talking to any of the teachers right now - it was probably just Professor Dumbledore coming to check on her anyway...
She felt the person come to a stop next to her bed, and with a small shock, she felt her blanket slowly being pulled off her. Cool night air stroked her body and she gave an involuntary shiver as her skin reacted to the cold air. Pretending to wake up, she turned her head slowly and met the eyes of her Potions professor.
"Good evening, Miss Granger," he said in his dangerously soft voice. "I figured that the effects of the potion you splattered yourself with this morning should have worn off by now. After all, the other students were fit to go back to their normal activities by dinner."
Hermione didn't know what to say to that. She was freezing and so she sat up, trying to reach the blanket, which was now at her feet, and pull it back to her chin. Before she could reach it, two strong hands pressed her back against the mattress, leaving the blanket at the end of the bed.
"I wasn't finished, Miss Granger," he said, as he leaned over her, holding her down. "It's considered common courtesy in the wizarding world to keep still and quiet until the person who talks to you has had his say." His lip curled. "But then again, as a Muggle-born, I guess you wouldn't be too familiar with the more civilised ways of address and conversation... interesting to know that even an irksome little know-it-all such as yourself has its limits..."
Hermione felt a pang of emotion at the comment. Tears welled up behind her eyes but she forced them back. She would not give Snape the satisfaction of knowing that he'd hurt her. She looked up at him defiantly.
"If you don't mind, Professor, I would very much like to have my blanket back and go to sleep. I don't think Madam Pomfrey will approve if I get a cold and you'd probably want to release me as well - holding one of your students down on a bed in the middle of the night isn't exactly proper behaviour, now is it?"
Anger flashed in his eyes, and in one swift movement, he took hold of her wrists and pinned them down above her head with one hand as he traced the soft skin of her inner arm with one long finger.
"Not proper behaviour, you say?" he said in silky tones. He was leaning closer to her now, black fire burning in his eyes, and she felt a rich, musky scent surround her. "Well, I don't think you should be the one to talk, considering your embarrassing attempt at seduction in my class earlier today. Your body betrays you at every turn - it's pathetic really how little control you have over it..."
As if he wanted to prove his point, he let his finger follow her arm and slide over the soft fabric of her thin nightgown down along her side. She felt her breathing become more difficult and closed her eyes, desperate to fight the heat he was bringing forth in her skin, putting all her forces into appearing indifferent to his touch. "Really," she thought, "what on earth is he talking about? I haven't done anything to him! God, what a repulsing thought! I was still a bit excited about Ron this morning, that's all..."
She took in a sharp breath and her eyes snapped open when his hand suddenly came to circle her nipple and then cup her breast firmly.
"Professor!" she croaked, twisting her body, trying to get her hands free. "Stop this! You've got it all wrong! I wouldn't want your hands on me if you were the last man on earth! Let me go!"
The look in his eyes grew even more intense and she felt branded by the way his gaze swept over her body. His voice was dripping with sarcasm as he said, "Oh yes, I can see that by the way your heart positively pounds in your chest and your nipples harden at my touch." He bent his head down to her right ear and lowered his voice to a soft whisper. "I know the female body Miss Granger. Make no mistake, if I wanted to, I could -with very little effort - make you beg for me to take you right here in this bed, with the risk of Madam Pomfrey or any other teacher walking in at any moment."
His right hand started to play with her nipple and she let out a moan, her body arching to press against his hand seemingly of its own accord. He chuckled and let his hand move lower, tracing intricate figures on her stomach and thighs. She felt her body move and arch to his touch, yearning for the delicious fire his fingers lit in her skin. Her head was spinning out of control and she couldn't seem to think at all. She gasped as a finger brushed against her most sensitive point, rubbing it lightly through the fabric. She tried to speak, but only moans of pleasure escaped her, making Snape's breathing quicken along with his touch.
Then, as suddenly as he'd grabbed her in the first place, his hands left her and he stood up, looking down at her with a wicked smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"I think I've got the point across," he said coldly. "Don't play with fire, Miss Granger, or you might just find your self consumed by it. Luckily for you, I don't find you nearly attractive enough to prove that statement to you"
He started walking towards the door, when he turned and shot her one last look
"Oh, and you have detention tomorrow night at eight because of your abysmal handling of your Sleeping Potion. I'll see you in my office then. Good night."
And with those words, he walked out of the hospital wing, leaving Hermione in her bed trembling from unfulfilled desire and wondering what in hell had just happened.
***
"What the hell just happened?!"
The same thought went through the minds of three people in a very short space of time.
Harry was walking up the stairs to the astronomy tower, feeling like he needed some cool air to clear his head. What in the name of Merlin had got into him back there? He'd just snogged his best friend! What on earth had made him do it?
He reached the top of the tower and sat down in an alcove in the stone wall, looking out over the grounds and up at the stars in the sky. He felt very confused. Confused about the fact that he'd just kissed Hermione. Confused because of what he'd felt when doing it, and most confused about the way she'd kissed him back…
He drew a deep breath and let the memory wash over him. It had been his first kiss since Cho surprised him under the mistletoe just before Christmas in his fifth year – now a little more than a year ago – and he had to admit that the kiss he'd shared with Hermione had been completely different from that. "Well," he thought, "not entirely different, there always seems to be tears involved somehow..." He sighed, but realised that he didn't feel embarrassed by the fact that he'd cried in front of her. Lying there next to her, feeling her soft breathing and her nice smell had made him feel better than he had felt for a very long time. He trusted her... and he loved her. Being so completely honest had been a cleansing experience, like dark shadows were poured out of him. And then the kiss...
Harry closed his eyes and remembered the feel of her lips against his, softly moving, her tongue caressing his... He could still taste her in his mouth and the memory brought a smile to his lips. He still couldn't understand why he'd done it, he'd just felt such an incredible need to at the time, he just couldn't explain it...
And the feelings it had brought with it! Kissing Cho had made him feel a bit tingly and uncomfortable (but he guessed the discomfort was mainly because she'd been crying) and afterwards he'd felt both a bit shocked and a bit elated. His body had been excited and unpredictable around Cho, blushing and hardening and doing other embarrassing things that he had been desperate to hide from her. Kissing Hermione had been completely different. It had felt as though his heart was filling with joy and light was soaring through his body and soul. It was pure and glorious and mystical and it left him feeling incredibly strong. It was like the exact opposite of a Dementor attack, making him forget all that was dark and pulling him into a bright, happy world through the connection of their hearts.
She loved him. He knew - he'd felt it. He was surer of this than of anything - he'd felt her love for him in their kiss, in her touch, in the incredible connection that had been forged between them. She loved him, and he knew he loved her back - he'd even said it to her...
He opened his eyes, staring up into the heavens, searching for some answer up in the diamond-covered sky. He knew they loved each other, but he was unsure what that meant. Was she supposed to be his girlfriend now? God, Ron would kill him! It'd been hard enough to convince him of his disinterest in Hermione last time around. If he -Harry- actually started dating her after this, Ron would go ballistic! And he wasn't even sure he wanted Hermione for his girlfriend... He tried thinking of snogging her the way Seamus and Lavender usually carried on (Harry thought it looked more like sex with your clothes on than kissing) and immediately felt weird. Their kiss had had an almost unearthly feeling to it, a touch of the sublime which didn't match with common physical attraction...
"And here I thought you were only friends," an angry, sarcastic voice interrupted his thoughts. He snapped his head around, meeting the accusing gaze, directed at him from an alcove twenty feet away. Not knowing what to do or how to respond, he simply held that gaze while the other stood up and started walking towards him...
***
Severus Snape closed the door to his chambers with a loud "bang" and leant heavily against it, trying to take control over his body. He tried closing his eyes and breathing deeply, but immediately saw her body flash before his eyes and felt her enticing smell fill his nostrils. This was no good. He swiftly walked into the bathroom and stepped, without even bothering to take his robes off, into a freezing shower.
When he came out, his body had gone back to normal and his mind seemed to be functioning again. He sighed with relief as he got rid of his wet clothes with a wave of his wand and slipped into a deep-green bathrobe. Slowly, he sat into a comfortable chair in front of the fire and conjured a silver goblet filled with a rich red wine onto the table next to him. He brought it to his lips and enjoyed its full taste and smooth texture. Then he set to work, determined to figure out just what the annoying little Miss Granger had done to poison his system against him...
***
Hermione lay completely shocked in her bed in the hospital wing as she watched Snape walk out of the room, looking like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Her body was still burning with unsated desire, but as she heard the door slam shut behind him, the feelings were quickly replaced by a rising shame and she hurried to pull the blanket over her body.
She was mortified by the way her body had responded to him, how she'd been utterly unable to control it. He was right, she was pathetic - no wonder he'd seized the opportunity to use her weakness against her now that she'd handed him the weapon so willingly. God! What mustn't he think of her! A weak, pathetic little girl, making unconscious passes at her much older professor. How he must despise her now! She'd worked so hard over the years to try and gain his respect, and now she'd made sure that she'd never have it. A tear trickled down her cheek as she thought of how he might use this against her. Snide comments she could bear, but she didn't know if she could handle him letting her secret "slip" at the Slytherin table one morning at breakfast and be made the laughing stock of Hogwarts... The shame would be hers alone to carry - he'd shown his dislike for her too many times for her to even question his sincerity. He'd made it quite clear tonight that he'd only suffered touching her to prove his point - that she was a pathetic little girl who couldn't even control her own body.
And then there was Harry... What had happened to him to make him all of a sudden kiss her like that? Did he love her beyond the love for a friend? Was it all her fault because of her stupid plot to try to get Ron to like her? Was Harry under the influence of the potion as well? God, she hoped not! Ginny would kill her - unless Ron beat her to it - if Harry decided he wanted her for a girlfriend. So many people would get hurt, including Harry, because it was Ron she wanted for a boyfriend! It had always been Ron... or had it? Suddenly, she wasn't too sure anymore. Pictures flashed before her eyes: brown eyes, black eyes, green eyes, a hand covering hers on the breakfast table, lips tasting hers, masculine scent embracing her, light shining from her heart, red hair blowing in the wind, white teeth flashing her a smile, a hand cupping her breast, a soft voice in her ear, an ache burning in her loins, tears wetting her face, lips touching her forehead, soft fingers drawing figures on her inner thighs...
"God what a mess!" she groaned, pushing her head into her pillow, trying to suffocate the swirling thoughts in her head.
Next part
