A Terrible Temptation

A/N - Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you everybody who has been reviewing and sending me the sweetest nicest e-mails! All the bribes worked I have gotten a lot of writing done and for those who have been hounding me to do a Marriage Challenge fic, well darn you all (you know who you are) I started one. I hate you all. lol! You guys kept mentioning it and I kept thinking how everything had been done adn done well, and then...an idea hit me. Big sigh. It will be awile before I start posting it, I have a lot of work to do on it first. Thanks to Kate for putting up with my bullying!

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/whenikissedtheteacher/ - This is WIKTT the Snape/Hermione fanfiction group that I send my notices to. Best gals and guys on the planet!


Chapter 23 – Tempting Fate

Hermione received the first letter a week after the inexplicable change in Harry. A week of crying herself to sleep and trying to batter her mind against memories so nebulous that she began to wonder if she had imagined the whole thing. Harry looked shifty-eyed whenever she tried to talk to him about the past few weeks and she noticed a definite cooling in Ron’s demeanor towards Harry as time passed that she found perplexing. Something had happened, she knew that, what she didn’t understand was what.

That day had beemplempletely ordinary until bedtime when one of the school owls showed up at her window and scratched to be let in. She opened the window and the dignified creature shot her a reproachful look and extended a leg to her. Mystified by the after hours delivery, Hermione offered the owl a treat that it haughtily refused as she took the letter from it.

It was creamy vellum with emerald ink writing on the front in handwriting that she didn’t recognize and just her name “Hermione” in elegant swirls across the front. The seal was silver wax with a green man’s face pressed into it. Hermione unfolded the crackling parchment with curiosity eating her alive. There was no signature, just a poem written in the same emerald ink.


She\'s a danger mortal,
All unsuspicious--full of charms unconscious,
Like a sweet perfumed rose--a snare of nature,
Within whose petals Cupid lurks in ambush!
He who has seen her smile has known perfection,
--Instilling inriflrifles grace\'s essence,
Divinity in every careless gesture;
Not Venus\' self can mount her conch blown sea-ward,
As she can step into her chaise a porteurs,
Nor Dian fleet across the woods spring-flowered,
Light as my Lady o\'er the stones of Paris!.


Hermione read it over again and again, puzzling it out until illumination dawned. It was a love letter. She sat down on her bed in a daze. She had never received a love letter before, hadn’t known that she was capable of inspiring a boy to send her one. It was flattering, it was romantic, it was baffling.

Whoever could have sent it? She thought instantly of Harry but dismissed it immediately. Not with the way he was behaving. Ron? No, he would have sent her a quote from Quidditch Quarterly, not something so elegant and beautiful. She didn’t recognize the passage. She supposed that it could be original, but the mention of Paris made her re-think that. No, it had to be a quote, but from where?

She would be spending some more time in the library tomorrow. She had a mystery to solve.

Ron was sitting in one of Snape’s overstuffed emerald-green chairs, his feet on the coffee table. He had a cup of tea in one hand and a biscuit in the other. Saturday had dawned bright and clear and Ron had snuck off to visit the Potions professor, still furious with Harry.

“He thinks she will just forget and get over it, he’s convinced it is just some fluke, or maybe his stunning good looks have just blinded her.” Ron spat out contemptuously.

“Weasley, you know that from an outside perspective his opinion is the logical one.” Snape replied with a touch of asperity, Ron quirked an eyebrow at him in amusement. Snape was always trying to talk himself out of being happy; should he ever just agree placidly, Ron would faint.

“From an outside perspective you and I ought to hate each other.” Ron pointed out and nibbled on his biscuit.

“From an outside perspective we do.” Snape reminded him and Ron nodded back to him.

“Precisely -- an outside perspective is bollocks.” Snape chuckled at Ron’s smug retort and they tacitly agreed to change the subject. Ron knew that Snape was sending letters to Hermione and that it was some sort of a testing of the waters to see if she was really interested. He thought that the direct approach, basically snogging her senseless, was a far better idea, but Snape pointed out a few problems with that plan.

While she might have been interested in snogging Harry, neither Ron nor Snape were positive that she would be up for snogging the Professor. Then there was the student teacher problem. Dumbledore would execute Snape, spy or not, if he were to lay a hand on a student no matter how willing she might be.

Ron agreed in theory with Snape’s caution but feared that in practice Hermione would hex his balls off when she found out what he had been up to. Snape winced and agreed that it was a possibility but in comparison to the sure knowledge that the most powerful wizard in the world would come up with new and imaginative hexes just for him if he were caught with Hermione, he decided to take the slightly safer path.

Ron thought that Snape getting caught with his hand up Hermione’s knickers was highly unlikely. He figured the Slytherin Head of House had to be slightly sneakier than the ex-Gryffindor Headmaster, but Snape had merely shaken his head and cited old age and treachery over youth and energy any day. Ron thought about the wizard who had defeated Grindelwald and decided that perhaps Snape was right not to risk it.

Minerva watched Miss Granger practicing the transformation with a critical eye. The girl was getting better at it every day. Her transformations were growing smoother and more complete. When first she began to practice, she would lose concentration and end up sort of half and half, looking remarkably like she had during her second year after the Polyjuice incident.

That her star pupil’s animagus form turned out to be a cat hadn’t surprised Minerva in the slightest. The girl’s curiosity was legendary and unless it had been a bookworm, Minerva couldn’t think of anything more appropriate. Hermione, now a fluffy, longhaired feline with wide brown eyes and inky colored paws, looked up at Minerva with a smug expression and Minerva applauded.

“Well done, Miss Granger.” She approved. “We will have to call convocation for you soon.” Minerva added with a small smirk. Yes, that would flush him out, wouldn’t it? He couldn’t ignore that.

Miss Granger flowed into her original form.

“Convocation?” Hermione asked, her curiosity following after Minerva’s bait like a hungry trout.

“Oh aye, Miss Granger. There are a great many cats in this castle; they all will have to meet you and decide what your ranking will be.” Minerva bustled about, putting away books and papers as she talked, mostly to hide the amusement sparkling in her eyes.

“My ranking?” Her curiosity was gnawing at her. If there was one thing that Hermione Granger couldn’t stand it was not knowing something.

“Indeed. The cats here have a very formalized community -- territories, ranking, all things that you will have to learn.” It was a magic word to Hermione, learning. She nodded eagerly and Minerva watched her head off to her dorm room with a very satisfied smile. Letters were all very well, really, but to really get to know someone you needed to spend time with them.

Minerva intended that Severus should spend a little time with Miss Granger. Minerva had no doubts that a man as self-controlled as he was would be able to restrain any physical urges until she had graduated, but that was months away and the girl was pretty enough in her own way. If Minerva didn’t do something and soon, the girl would be snapped up by some earnest and clumsy boy to be made miserable for the rest of her life.

Minerva McGonagall had no intention of allowing that to happen.