Playing the Game

Disclaimer: All hail JK Rowling who owns these characters. I have just borrowed them for some fun.

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Chapter 3. A Kiss is Just a Kiss


Hermione hummed quietly to herself as she made her way to the Arithmancy classroom. She was only half thinking about her research project “Zero: the emptiness of death or the full circle of life?” Arithmancy was a fascinating plunge into the world of numbers and their magical significance and function. But today her thoughts were, uncharacteristically for her, focused on something other than her reading and her studies. She was once again thinking about him. Severus Snape.

She knew that he was deliberately avoiding her, stupid man. How on earth was she going to prove to him that they could be so perfect together…well, actually she wanted to prove it to herself as well. Her confidence was simmering nicely and her plan was in action. How to put a Slytherin off his game? Why, by being honest with him, it’s the last thing he’d understand!

Her turbulent thoughts swirled around the taciturn Potions Master. It was true: she’d had five years to decide what to do with her feelings. Stupid feelings! Why couldn’t you settle on someone a little more attainable? He wasn’t handsome by any stretch of the imagination, but there was something about him. The fact that she couldn’t describe or understand it annoyed her enormously. It had started with a moment in third year, that moment when she had caught her first glimpse of something special in him. Something he so rarely showed others.

That moment at the Whomping Willow, in which he chose to shield her and the boys, whom he hated most, from poor Remus as he transformed. Severus hadn’t even thought about it, instinctively stepping in front of them, his body the only shield between them and the werewolf. He wasn’t even armed, since Harry had deprived him of his wand, yet Severus hadn’t hesitated. Just like he hadn’t hesitated during the war. How many times had he been there when he was needed, at huge risk to himself? And how many times had he just disappeared again behind the wall of sarcasm and insults when it was all over? Yet his actions were noble and courageous. He had a great sense of honour, when he wasn’t hiding behind his self-imposed barriers.

Something in him reached out to her. She wasn’t intimidated by the barriers he constructed around himself with acerbic comments and menacing looks. She knew perfectly well why he did it when he was spying for the Order, although she wasn’t sure why he had continued with it after Voldemort’s fall. It was puzzling. He was an unhappy man, but she had plans to change that.

He had barely spoken to her, or any of the Order, once the fighting was all done. She supposed it wasn’t as though he felt he had any friends amongst them. Instead he had returned to Hogwarts, locked himself in his dungeon laboratory and, Minerva had later told her, apparently given up on life in general. Blasted feelings, for settling on such a complicated man.

The fact that he was avoiding her told her at least that he wasn’t completely immune to her. Still, she sighed, he was obviously trying to prove himself unmoved by her declaration of intent…or war? She smiled to herself. Well, a little thing like his resistance was not going to put her off. She hadn’t been sorted into Gryffindor for nothing: loyalty, passion, courage – she had all of those in abundance, and when you add love to the mix…

Love? Was that what this was? Hermione sighed. She’d never been in love, not really. There was something about the dratted man that compelled her, but she had to be practical and acknowledge that she couldn’t very well be in love with a man she hardly knew, could she? She just wanted a chance to explore this and see where it took them. The fact that he wasn’t co-operating was a minor problem, but she was confident she could deal with it.

If only he’d play the game and give them both a chance to win. Well, perhaps she ought to add stubbornness to the mix of qualities, because she fully intended to make him! He’d see in the end that it was best for both of them. After all, he was the most disagreeable, difficult, non-communicative, abrupt, unfriendly, bitter…dratted, DRATTED feelings! Why not choose Harry, or even Remus? At least they LIKED her!

The hardest part of all is that one never knew what Severus was thinking. He hid his thoughts well, he suppressed his feelings with a vengeance, and he never revealed anything more than strictly necessary. All in all it was like seducing a stone. She wasn’t even sure if he liked her…like that! I mean, she knew she wasn’t beautiful, but she’d managed to capture that one little kiss at the Quidditch game and he hadn’t exactly spat in her face. In fact, it had more than surprised her by causing an intense ache between her legs that she hadn’t quite been prepared for. She’d beat a hasty retreat before she melted in a puddle, all from one chaste little kiss that he hadn’t even participated in. Oh, to be kissed properly! She shivered slightly and couldn’t suppress the smile that reached her lips.

Well, maybe that was the next point of attack. Maybe she needed to involve him in some extracurricular lip-locking and ascertain for certain whether he had any interest in her at all. Even desire was a starting point of a sort. And the wonderful thing about men is that they had difficulty hiding that sort of interest. Her smile broadened. She just had to be in close enough proximity to be certain.

***

Christmas had come once again to Hogwarts. Outside the castle and grounds were blanketed in several feet of snow. The students had gone home for the holiday season and the staff were taking advantage of their absence to indulge in a little Christmas cheer. The house elves had prepared special Christmas crackers that set off mini bursts of fireworks when pulled, and sang Christmas carols in tinny, magical voices.

Professor Flitwick had charmed the doors of the Great Hall to boom out “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” every time they opened. Severus noticed one of the students closest to the doors soon chocked it open in desperation after several of them had repeatedly spat eggnog over their friends in surprise when someone entered the hall.

The feast had been magnificent as usual. There was an abundance of roasted meats and vegetables with thick rich gravy, turkey and cranberry sauce, Christmas pudding, crumpets, trifle, and, of course Christmas cake.

Unfortunately it was too cold outside to lose himself in the gardens as he preferred to do at these social events. Instead, Severus kept to the High Table, listening to the idle conversations around him rather than participating. He noticed that Granger and Potter sat together as usual. Granger kept shooting him glances when she thought he wasn’t watching, and it made him feel unsettled, as though there was something being planned that he had no hand in. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation.

Deciding that perhaps a turn about the room might help dislodge the confusing feelings, Severus got up from the table and silently moved amongst the students, making very certain not to walk anywhere near the mistletoe. He had found himself cornered there by a rather tipsy Rolanda Hooch some years back. It wasn’t one of his finer moments, and certainly not one he wanted to repeat with the brown-haired vixen that haunted his dreams at night. At least, he didn’t think he wanted to repeat it.

The thought of Granger sighing her pleasure into his mouth had his body going hard again. What was it about her that tormented him so?

Silly girl didn’t know what was good for her. She hadn’t shown any sign of desisting in this ridiculous idea of him being a romantic interest. Apart from the 20 years and a lifetime of dark magic that stood between them, he was quite certain that Potter should very likely trounce him if he even entertained the idea. Not that Boy Wonder would get very far, Severus thought darkly, but I wouldn’t mind the opportunity to hex him into next week. If nothing else it would distract him from where his thoughts kept wandering unbidden.

He glanced up to the Head Table and watched his nemesis mutter something to Potter as she got up from the table. At the risk of her cornering him, Severus decided, now that dinner was over and the festivities had begun, it was time he was leaving. Time to escape to the solitude of his dungeon quarters. He watched carefully as she passed behind one of the dozen Christmas trees that Hagrid brought in every year, and after several minutes of making certain he couldn’t see her amongst the crowd, he made good his escape.

On silent feet, he strode through the entrance hall and into the deserted corridors only to discover Granger standing in the doorway that lead to his dungeon sanctuary. It was too late to change direction so he decided to tough it out. Maybe he could intimidate her into leaving him alone?

“Since you are making no attempt to be less predictable, I can only assume you weren’t serious in your attempt to escape” she commented idly.

“Where on earth did you come from?”

She grinned at him and wordlessly held up Potter’s Invisibility Cloak.

“I see, not so certain of your charms then, Professor Granger?”

“Oh, do call me Hermione. It’s awfully irritating when you use that title.”

He resisted the urge to smile. So it irritated her? Excellent.

“I have a gift for you. Two, actually.” She actually blushed under his gaze.

“I do not need your gifts, Professor”

“I’m giving you this because I want you to have something that makes you think of me” and she pressed a large flat package into his hand. He looked down at it. As if she needed any extra assistance in invading his thoughts.

“Open it” she urged him

For some reason that Severus could not fathom, he did as she instructed. He undid the golden ribbons and paper to reveal an exquisite hand-stitched shirt in the finest ivory linen. Each pearly button was delicately monogrammed with an entwined “SS”. The fabric itself felt like water between his fingers. It was a beautiful and very personal gift.

She simply stood and watched him roll the fabric of the shirt through his fingers. It would be a very sensual shirt to wear. Severus had little experience with kindness and, for once, he did not know what to say to her.

“Would you like your second gift now?” she asked almost mischievously. She was obviously pleased by his reaction to the first one.

Severus neither agreed nor disagreed, but he did look to her hands again only to find them sliding up the length of his chest to tangle in his hair. He had just one second in which he registered her intent before his opportunity to act was lost. She kissed him.

It was unlike any kiss he had ever received. Her mouth was warm and generous against his, her face tilting sideways to allow her lips to make full contact. Her fingers were generating a tingling heat that slithered from the base of his skull where her hands held his head firmly in place, down his spine towards his sex, which was currently responding with interest.

She pressed her body up against his, trapping her gift between them, leaning heavily into his erection. Severus could not think straight to move away. He passively allowed her to lie against his length while she teased and tantalised his senses with nibbling, seeking kisses that stole his breath away. The torment was almost unbearable. His arms went around her involuntarily, gathering her up in his arms as he sought to deepen the kiss himself.

Hermione’s lips opened against his in invitation. Her tongue flicked against his upper lip, taunting him, tempting him. Her willing mouth welcomed his tongue, tasting him fully before returning the favour. They were caught up in spiraling pleasure that lost all sense of time and place. Severus vaguely registered how snugly her body fit into his, and how comfortable it felt to hold her there.

When they finally pulled apart, they were both slightly breathless. Hermione smoothed out the forgotten shirt and folded it.

“It’s charmed to resist creasing so it always looks fresh.” she observed, to no-one in particular. Then she looked up at him. “Would you like to continue this in your chambers?” It was more direct than he had expected her to be.

Severus’ senses were returning to him, as were his suspicions. There was usually a catch when a woman wanted to sleep with him.

“Is that your gift then?” he sneered “Do you usually give your body away for Christmas? Perhaps I am not interested in recycled presents.”

It took a moment for her to register the insult.

Severus watched the barrier come crashing down over her previously open and expressive features. When she finally spoke her voice was low and choked.

“I must be crazy to think that you could ever—, I’ll have you know that I’m—” she broke off, struggling to find the words, “I must really be in love with you to let you get away with such an appalling accusation. Either way, I think it might be best if I leave before I am tempted to teach you a thing or two about hexes!”

She tossed the beautiful shirt in his face and hissed, “Merry Christmas, you miserable prat,” and stormed off in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower.

Severus looked once again at the precious gift he held in his hands, and resisted the unusual urge to go after her. The shirt smelled of violets.