A Terrible Temptation

A/N – Anyone who knows anything about the feline reproductive system knows that it is not a pleasant experience for the female cat. Even if either one of them was so inclined; she most certainly wouldn’t let him near her again – EVER! So, sorry kids, no kitty smut in this story. LOL Thanks again to the inimitable Kate, without whose beta-ing skills I would suck completely. I love all my reviewers they are fuzzy bunnies of delight. (I NEED to get more sleep)


Chapter 34 – If Wishes Were Horses…


Severus stood over Draco as he added the last ingredient and forced an indulgent smile to his face as the potion was correctly finished. Draco was capable if not brilliant and Severus was therefore not forced to act too falsely when he was teaching him. At least the boy made no egregious errors that required Severus to cover for him.

Hermione was brilliant however and it was increasingly hard to ignore and ridicule her in class. He was at least soothed by the knowledge that she knew the truth of his heart even as he scolded her for helping Longbottom and deducted points.

Longbottom was looking at him with that mournful puppy expression and Severus wondered if the boy deliberately did things to incense him. Could there be anything more annoying than a pathetic lump of a boy looking at you like some small furry animal in distress? He sighed internally wishing there was something he could do to simply make the boy vanish. Looking at him was a constant reminder of his past and of his many failures. Why did the boy have to look so much like Frank?

“Goyle, I do not remember telling you to dihe she slugs.” He sneered at the younger boy and then pretended not to see Goyle’s lab partner switching out his slugs for properly sliced ones from her own supply. Goyle’s father had once put him under Crucio for a scathing note sent home with the boy’s less than stellar grades. He had remembered ever after that the sons of Voldemort’s loyal followers did not fail Potions.

He sniped at Weasley for a moment’s inattention to his cauldron and the boy gave him a baleful stare that was far less convincing than it once was. Ron did better when he pretended indifference or despondency; his hatred was not well rehearsed enough. He paused behind Hermione for only the briefest of moments to assure himself that she had as usual created a flawless potion.

Even so, that brief instant of nearness was enough to disorder his soul. The constant aching need for her was hardest to overcome while he was teaching. The combination of her closeness and the requirements of their respective positions made the pretense agonizing.

He moved past her and Hermione released the breath she had been holding. Two widely separate incidents of kissing him and her body had already come to a state of addiction. Every moment he was near she could feel the electric tingle across her skin and the way her body wanted to lean towards his. She was an iron filing drawn towards his magnetic presence. Her mouth would go dry, her hands would shake just the tiniest bit as she fought the urge to reach for him and under her robes her body would respond to his pheromones with embarrassing results.

His velvet-smooth voice rolled over them as he gave the instructions for the next part of the potion. Even as she listened and obeyed, her mind was replaying that voice whispering her name in the Library. She was almost trembling with suppressed desire by the end of class, her panties soaked through and her lip chewed to shreds.

Thank God that she would soon graduate; she was unsure how much longer she could fight the desperate hunger that he aroused in her. She blushed slightly at her own thoughts. When had she turned from a self-controlled intellect into this bundle of primal needs and fierce wants?
“Hermione, you want to go to Hogsmeade this weekend with me and Lavender?” Ron asked, waking her from her thoughts.

“Sure Ron, it sounds great.” Yeah, spending time with the Siamese twins -- look, they’re attached at the mouth -- was her idea of great fun. Still, Harry would spend the weekend wrapped around Ginny and that was equally un-fun to watch. Thinking about it, she and Severus talked a lot during their few trysts; Harry never seemed to say much of anything around Ginny as his mouth was always occupied by her tongue.

Hermione recognized the touch of bitterness for what it was. She was jealous of her friends and how they could pursue their hearts\' desires ly wly while she had to make do with letters and the occasional sneaked kiss. It was aggravating and she wasn’t sure who she wanted to kill more, Voldemort for making it impossible for Severus to declare his love for a Muggle-born or Dumbledore for his Victorian prudery and suddenly discovered ethics. He married McGonagall, for crying out loud; he must have a clue how hard it was to love someone with this much of an age difference, why couldn’t he make it easier on them instead of harder?

“Earth to Hermione, come in Hermione!” Harry’s voice broke into her angry mental rant and she looked up in surprise to realize she was in the Common Room with no memory of how she got there. Ginny was busily twining herself around Harry and he seemed oblivious to how much of a private act he was performing in public.

“Sorry, Harry, my mind was drifting.” She flashed a weak smile and Harry gave her a hard look.

“Are you alright?” She knew what he was asking really, was Severus being mean to her? She sighed and wished she could tell Harry off, but she couldn’t with Ginny there, her hand down his shirt and her face nuzzling his neck. Harry was wrapped just as tightly around the sixth-year girl and Hermione was suddenly fed up.

“I’m fine, I would just like to be able to talk to two of my best friends without having you stopping to snog every other sentence.” She growled and Ginny flushed while Harry looked startled. They both looked horribly embarrassed and Hermione felt a pang of remorse. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I’m sorry.” Hermione relented and the two of them nodded. They did however, move apart and sit cuddled but not quite so closely as before.

“I am sorry Hermione, I didn’t think about how it must be for you to watch us all the time when you don’t have a boyfriend of your own.” Ginny’s attempt at an apology only served to make Hermione angry again. Harry winced and that didn’t help at all either.

“You know, I have letters to write.” Hermione marched upstairs; she would cry for a while and then write Severus an impassioned love letter and she would feel much better. Really.


Ron sprawled in the gold armchair and sipped at his tea desultorily. He was heartbroken and despondent, but Snape wasn’t laughing at his juvenile display, something that made Ron feel deeply grateful.

“Let me see if I understand, Weasley. You took her to dinner in Hogsmeade, talked about the future, argued over her hypothetical line of cosmetics and stormed out only stopping to pay the bill?” Ron winced at Severus’ dry recital of his disastrous evening.

“I might have had a little too much wine.” Ron mumbled as he took another sip of tea.

“I would say that was a given. At least you didn’t leave her to pick up the tab.” Snape replied with a lowered brow that made Ron squirm. “Are you serious about making it up to her?” He asked and Ron nodded franticly.

“I love her. I was a complete idiot and I must fix it somehow!”

“All right, you will have to start by groveling in a significant fashion, in a way that approximates the seriousness of your crime.” Ron looked at Snape in dawning horror.

“How significant?” He asked.

“Publicly and completely reciprocal. As you humiliated her, so you must redeem yourself and be humiliated.” Each word made Ron cringe and Snape’s reasonable tone and sympathetic expression cushioned the blow not a whit.

“Any ideas how I might go about humiliating myself?” Ron asked weakly.

“I would start with flowers, candy and abject apologies on your knees, combined with eternal vows to drink only tea in her presence from now on.” Snape grimaced at him and Ron knew that his inability to maintain his wits after three glasses of red wine on an empty stomach was going to cost him far more than the aching head he had woken up with that morning.

“Did I thank you for the Hangover potion yet?” Ron asked with a small wince at the memory of his horrible morning.

“Only about thirty times, Weasley.” Snape’s voice was amused rather than nasty and Ron grinned at him. Sometimes the best friend to have was a Potions Master, especially one who had seen enough of the world to know how to redeem a few youthful mistakes. Ron looked at the sallow skinned dark-eyed man before him and was suddenly very glad indeed that he had learned to see beyond the surface of things. Black and white were clear and easy colors but they were also very limiting; it was in the shades of gray that life was lived.