Tension in the Laboratory

Snape didn’t say anything in reply, so Hermione was inclined to believe he would broach the topic again, in his usual fashion, when the issue came to a head. She suppressed a groan at the thought.

“We’ll go see Dumbledore in a moment,” he continued. “He’s the keeper of the secrets.”

“Yours or everyone’s?”

“Both, I rather think.”

“Who keeps his?”

Snape opened his eyes and gave her what she used to think of as an unreadable glance but now realized was a quick assessment.

“You ask the right questions,” he said after a second, closing his eyes again, “but make certain you want to hear the answers.”

Hermione didn’t answer. She shivered in his embrace, wondering what he felt for her. Snape tucked her more securely against his side and began sliding his fingers through her hair, which felt good, and comforting.

“It’s been a long time for me,” he said, apropos of nothing. His words, barely above a whisper, seemed to echo in the little room. “I’ve been wanting you a long time. Perhaps today has...disappointed you. If you want to stop this now, I’ll understand. I’ll Obliviate you as painlessly as possible. And I’ll never speak of it again.”

Hermione’s thoughts raced. “I don’t want to stop,” she said faintly. But how could she trust him? And what did he want her for? If only she could get past that wall of reserve…

The fingers in her hair stilled, then began to gently rub her scalp with more purpose. He turned toward her. She opened her eyes and saw that his were fixed on her.

“I’m going to regret this, but we must go to Dumbledore right away.”

“Regret it?”

He rolled back on top of her. “Regret it,” he said, getting his knees between hers and letting her feel the length of his still-hard cock pressing into her swollenness. “But you must understand one thing.” He was still giving her the stare. She jerked her head in acknowledgment. “You might become--exasperated with me. I’m a Slytherin, and I’ll always be true to my nature. You know what I mean.” He leaned closer. “But whatever may happen between us, I will be there when you need me.”

What did that mean?

He rolled off her and began pulling on his clothes. Over his shoulder, he remarked, off hand, “Aren’t you getting dressed? If we’re to see Dumbledore, we should do it right away.”

“So you can have your Unbreakable Vows?” She couldn’t help a note of cynicism from creeping into her voice.

“Yes.” He drew out the “s”. She tossed a mutinous glance over her shoulder at him as she pulled on her knickers. “And by all means, get more of those. They’re quite lovely.”

She launched herself over the bed, furious. “Let’s get one thing straight,” she couldn’t help spitting out, “if you’re going to mock me, or—-"

He pulled her up by her shoulders and ground his mouth down on hers. Then he lifted her a bit and put his mouth slightly lower, keeping her suspended in the air, her arms pinned to her sides, making her squirm with outrage and pleasure as he did what he liked to her thrust-out breasts. He lifted his head, his lips a color red she didn’t often see, his breath coming fast. “I said I liked them,” he said with careful enunciation. “Lace would be nice, too. Am I being perfectly clear?”

She nodded desperately. He released her and turned away. Addressing his trousers as he zipped them, he said, “It would please me if you would tuck away your, er, pleasant distractions for the time being and we could take care of this little piece of business.”

“All right.” She couldn’t tell if she should be outraged, happy, or nervous. She pulled on her clothes, glanced in the wardrobe mirror, sighed impatiently, and pulled her unruly locks into a bun.

“Don’t.”

She nearly jumped. “What?”

“Don’t put it up. I like it down.”

“Am I supposed to entertain your every preference?” she bit out.

“I certainly hope so.” The tone was so deadpan, Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. She dropped her hair and held up her wand for a smoothing charm. Snape took her arm with authority and within moments, they were outside Dumbledore’s office.

“Come in,” Dumbledore’s voice intoned in response to Snape’s rapid knock. “Oh, it’s you, Severus. What can I do for you?” He smiled at Hermione. “And you, Miss Granger. Always a pleasure. Terrific game for Gryffindor.”

What? Oh, right. Quidditch. Bloody game. “It was a brilliant match, sir.” She caught Snape rolling his eyes.

“Dumbledore,” Snape broke in with little grace, “I need you to witness an Unbreakable Vow.”

Dumbledore’s expression didn’t change, but Hermione felt the force of his penetrating eyes. “Perhaps we’d better speak in private for a moment. Miss Granger, if you don’t mind overmuch, would you please step outside for a moment?”

Reluctantly, Hermione headed out the door, which shut with finality behind her. After a moment of fuming, she pressed her ear to its heavy oaken surface. To her surprise, she could make out some sound.

“...all about, Severus?”

“I told you...Unbreakable Vow.” Snape’s voice came through too low to register for her.

“May I ask for what?”

Again, the low tone.

“I see.” There was a lengthy pause, during which Hermione became suddenly panicky that they might pull open the door and see her. “And have you thought about other...vows?”

Snape’s voice was unintelligible, but the urgency of the tone was not.

“You’re paying that debt already,” Dumbledore said severely. “Now is the time to think of the living.”

Snape said something very quietly then and he spoke for a longer time than Hermione expected.

“Are you certain that that is the best way?”

“I’m certain, Dumbledore.” That, she heard clearly. “If she agrees.”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

At that, Hermione backed quickly away from the door and pretended to be engrossed with the wall hangings.

Snape opened the door. “Your acting skills need improving if I’m to teach you Occlumency,” he said. When Hermione glared, he seemed to remember himself. “Please come back in.” She brushed by him. Dumbledore was still smiling at her paternally.

“Hermione,” Snape said, beginning to pace, “I think we should make this a more formal arrangement.”

She was baffled. “More formal arrangement?” she parroted.

His words tumbled out. “We can make it a wedding, In secret, of course. No one must know. Except Dumbledore.”

She couldn’t believe it, especially after the painful awkwardness of just several minutes ago, the aftermath of which her body was still feeling. “You really want to marry me? After—" She broke off, remembering Dumbledore’s presence and feeling a furious blush rise from her collar.

Snape cast an anxious glance at Dumbledore. Unwillingly, he started to lower himself to one knee.

“Don’t!” Hermione croaked.

He straightened with obvious relief, but took her hand in his. “Hermione. What can I say to persuade you to marry me?”