Through the Looking Glass ~ COMPLETED

Chapter 54 ~ Sealing the Deal

Snape stood in his study, his black eyes resting on the lumpy, threadbare green sofa. He’d given Hermione’s counterpart quite the workout on that piece of furniture. Hermione shifted in his arms and he looked at her consideringly.

He could put her on the sofa. It had been Scourgified of fluids after all. She’d never know what dirty little acts he’d done on it. Hell, she was lucky he was willing to do that much. Her falling asleep like this was a terrible imposition. He could put her on the floor before the hearth—

The wizard scowled.

As inconvenient as this was, Hermione had worked hard for him, and most likely the reason she was so exhausted was because of that fact. The least he could do was provide her with a proper place to rest. Unfortunately for the Potions master, there was only one truly comfortable piece of furniture in his quarters.

His bed.

Which meant that Hermione’s comfort would be his discomfort. He would have to either take the lumpy sofa himself, or one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. Frowning, he carried the witch into his bedroom. Bending carefully, he managed to pull the sheets back and carefully laid Hermione in his bed on her back. He studied her for a moment then removed her trainers and socks, tucking the socks into the trainers and setting them on the floor beside his four-poster. At least her feet would be comfortable.

He saw she wore jeans under her robes, but decided against removing her outer garments. Instead, he pulled the covers over her and stood there for several moments, just watching her breathe. His face was contorted slightly as he looked at the witch in his bed. She was alone, in his rooms. His mind shifted back to her night with his counterpart and he quickly billowed from the room, plopping down in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace in his study, the flames reflected in his eyes as he brooded.

Starting and running an apothecary shop was going to be more difficult than he imagined. It appeared that he wouldn’t be able to just brew potions and sell them. There was so much more to do. He could afford to fail, of course, but he would rather succeed. It would be a welcome change to build something successful from the ground up, something that not only satisfied his obsession with potions, but would bring returns. Hermione had done one hell of a job getting all the information he needed, circumventing the apothecary shops themselves. If it had been him, he would have been skulking about for months, spying.

It was what he was used to after all.

Apparently, Hermione had recognized the flaw in that plan. She was bookish after all, and believed books could provide all the answers for an inquisitive mind. In this case, she’d been right. Rather than waste time asking questions, she went directly to the source and compiled an amazing amount of truly helpful information in a very short period of time.

Snape’s eyelids began to droop, and he twisted in the armchair slightly, trying to get more comfortable. His last thought was how brilliant Hermione Granger truly was.


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The wizard awoke about three hours later. He roused, his body cramped and aching from the armchair. He needed to piss. Snape stood up, stretched out the kinks and quietly walked into his bedroom. He stopped when he saw Hermione lying on top of the covers, still asleep, but not in the condition of dress she was in when he placed her in the bed. .

The witch had wrestled off her robes and her jeans, and now lay dressed only in a pair of white cotton knickers and her bra and t-shirt, her brown hair wild around her head as she slept in a semi-fetal position, facing him.

Snape blinked at her, his eyes resting on her bare legs. He swallowed, then entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He opened the lower half of his robes, pulled down the front of his briefs and took out his slightly hardened cock. It seemed he had not been unaffected by Hermione’s state of half-dress. Grimacing, he pissed, shook off, then flushed the loo. He rearranged his clothing, washed his hands and exited the bathroom, promising himself not to look at the witch again as he passed through.

He was almost out the door when he heard Hermione call him in a frightened little voice.

”Professor, what am I doing here?” the witch asked.

Snape turned to find Hermione sitting up in his bed, the covers drawn around her. Her jeans were still on the floor, however. She must have awakened when he flushed the loo, saw she was in an unfamiliar place and was half-dressed.

That realization must have made her heart race a little.

”You were sleeping,” the Potion master replied. “You fell asleep in my office and refused to awaken. I might have thought you’d been slipped the Draught of the Dead potion if I didn’t know better. Rather than Ennervate you, I simply put you to bed.”

Hermione blinked at him, then asked in a small voice, “Did you—you remove my clothing?”

Snape’s eyes glittered wickedly. He couldn’t help himself.

”Miss Granger, do you think I would do such a thing?”

”I don’t know. You might have, to make me more comfortable.”

Snape knew he shouldn’t say what he was driven to say next, but he did anyway.

”If I remove a woman’s clothes, Miss Granger, it’s not to make her more comfortable, believe me,” he purred. “Now, go back to sleep. It’s too late to return to Gryffindor tower.”

He started to leave the room.

“But where are you sleeping, professor?” she asked him.

”In the study. Now, go back to sleep, Miss Granger.”

Snape left the bedroom.

Hermione sat there, now looking about the sparse room. It was so much different than the one the alternate Snape resided it. There was nothing but a bed, a dresser, a wardrobe and a wooden chair here. Nothing hung on the walls except two torches, and there were no floor coverings. It sort of looked like a furnished dungeon cell.

Hermione lay back down, closing her eyes, aware of the firmness of the mattress. It only had a little give. Well, it figured a hard man would have a hard bed. But the pillows were nice and soft and the thread count of the sheets was high. So there was some comfort among the meagerness of the surroundings.

She lay there for more than thirty-minutes, tossing and turning, unable to fall back to sleep. Her brown eyes rested on the open bedroom door and the firelight flickering around the sill. She wondered if the Potions master was asleep. Slowly, she slipped out of bed and pulled on her jeans. She padded to the door and peeked around it.

Professor Snape wasn’t asleep. He was sitting in front of the fire, staring into the flames. He had a glass in one hand. She noticed he looked a bit angry, not that he didn’t always look angry about something.

“I find it incomprehensible that a witch as brilliant as you are, Miss Granger, cannot follow a simple directive,” Snape said, not looking her way. “I told you to go back to sleep.”

Hermione was a bit shocked he knew she was there, but the dark wizard was extremely aware of her presence. It was why he was frowning.

”I tried to go back to sleep,” Hermione said. “I can’t. I’m in an unfamiliar place.”

”My potions office isn’t a usual place, and you feel asleep just fine in there,” the wizard snapped at her. “You aren’t trying hard enough.”

Hermione walked into the study and sat down in the other armchair.

”How can I ‘try’ to sleep? I can’t force myself? It’s natural. You can’t force what comes naturally,” she told the Potions master.

Now Snape looked at her, his head cocked slightly and one eyebrow lifted. Hermione felt her heart skip a beat as the reality of her situation suddenly dawned on her. She was alone in the middle of the night in professor Severus Snape’s private quarters, only mere paces from his bedroom.

”Really, Miss Granger? Perhaps you can give me another example of what can’t be forced?” he purred at her. “Since you insist on further infringing on my personal time, I might as well be entertained by your Gryffindorisms.”

Hermione frowned.

”Gryffindorisms? What are you talking about?” she demanded.

Snape smirked slightly and took another sip of his Firewhiskey.

”From the inception of this school, Gryffindors have been rambling off various incarnations of the same insipid set of erroneous premises and words-to-live-by for centuries. Ridiculous premises such as the statement you just made,” the wizard said with a sniff.

”What?” Hermione growled, frowning.

Snape idly playing with his glass for a moment as Hermione seethed.

”You certainly can force what comes naturally if you apply enough effort,” the dark wizard informed her.

”If you force something, how can it come naturally?” Hermione argued. “There’s been an outside influence if you interfere and try and direct it. In that case, even if you are successful at making something happen, it doesn’t happen naturally. It’s unnatural because it didn’t happen on its own.”

Snape studied her for a moment, his eyes slowly sliding over the witch from head to toe before he turned his head back toward the fire, his lips pressed together tightly.

”Well? What do you have to say about that, professor?” Hermione pushed, wanting an answer.

Still staring at the fire, Snape responded to her goading. She seemed to enjoy a good argument. But Snape wasn’t the kind of wizard to argue for very long.

”You are too young and inexperienced to debate me on this, Miss Granger. I suggest you back down or I’ll be forced to show you an example of the premise. I am not a man to waste words and ‘tell’ when I can take action and ‘show’ how something works,” Snape said softly.

“Oh, I suppose with magic, right?” Hermione asked a bit witheringly. “That’s really ‘natural.’ “

”No. Not with magic, Miss Granger,” Snape replied. “Manipulation with magic is not the answer to everything. Still, I suggest you pull your feet away from the fire before it burns you.”

”I have never been ‘burned’ in a debate, professor,” Hermione said indignantly, completely misconstruing what Snape meant. “If you can prove your premise, then prove it!”

Snape now looked at her again.

”An ‘experiment’ then, Miss Granger? It would require your participation if I am to prove my point,” he told her.

“All right,” Hermione agreed. “What do I have to do?”

Snape considered her. Well, she had refused to back down, so he was well within his rights to demonstrate his point.

“Stand up,” he said quietly.

Hermione did so. The Potions master also stood.

”Face me,” he ordered.

Hermione did, staring up at the wizard.

”Now, when I walk forward, I want you to react honestly,” he purred, taking a step forward and invading the witch’s space. Hermione swallowed and stepped back from him. Snape advanced again, slowly closing the distance between them, and again Hermione stepped back. They continued this little dance until Hermione found herself against the book covered wall, unable to retreat further. Snape closed the distance between them, placing a pale hand on either side of Hermione, trapping her between his arms. Hermione’s heart was pounding at his closeness.

“Now, you have to admit I forced you to back against the wall, correct, Miss Granger?” he said to her, his voice like silk.

”Yes,” Hermione nearly whispered, feeling as if she couldn’t draw a deep breath.

“Now, let’s see what comes naturally,” Snape breathed, lowering his head and capturing Hermione’s lips with his own.

At first, Hermione stiffened, but her stiffness didn’t last as Snape’s kiss took over, gentle and sensual, his mouth shifting against hers seductively, just as compelling as the kiss of his counterpart. She began to return the kiss, only to feel him slightly pulling back. She followed, pressing her lips against his, but feeling him withdrawing. Hermione wasn’t about to let the kiss end so soon, so pursued his mouth, eyes closed, moving forward.

Finally, Snape pulled away completely and Hermione’s eyes flew open.

They were back in front of the armchairs. Snape gave her a small smirk, although his black eyes were glinting at her.

”My point proven, Miss Granger,” he purred. “You did what came naturally after I forced the situation.”

Hermione stared at him.

”You—you kiss just as good as your counterpart,” she breathed.

“I wouldn’t know,” Snape replied, eyeing the smitten witch.

”You do, believe me,” Hermione said, feeling as if a legion of dragons were flying about in her belly, spouting flames.

”Fine, I believe you,” Snape said, sitting down again. Hermione just stood there, looking at him. “And I believe I’ve won the argument.”

Hermione wasn’t thinking about the argument. She was thinking about his kiss. And how much she wouldn’t mind another one or two . . . or ten. Would the professor be interested in a snogging session?

Oh, but she couldn’t ask him that, could she? No. She didn’t have the nerve. Maybe she could find another way to let him know she was interested in more kisses.

”Um, professor—I’m not sure I’ve gotten the gist of the premise. Maybe we could do another experiment?”

Snape looked up at her, then his face contorted.

“Miss Granger, if you are attracted to me, or would like me to continue to kiss you, simply say so. I prefer directness to coy games,” he told her. “Also, there is a marked difference between myself and the Snape that you engaged. I don’t consider intimacy ‘business as usual’ whether simple kisses or sex. I don’t appreciate being used and cast aside, as your counterpart found out. If this is just a momentary weakness or something you don’t wish to continue, then it’s best we refrain completely.”

Hermione stared at him.

”What? You want a relationship with me?” she asked him, unable to believe it.

”If possible. I don’t know that it is, but what I don’t want is a night of intimate contact and then nothing, or to see you on the arm of some young wizard afterwards. If you are playing wizard-tag, then it’s best you leave me out of the game. As I said, I’m too old for games, Miss Granger.”

”Wizard tag? I’ve never done that. The only wizard I’ve been with is you—I mean your alternate you—“

Hermione suddenly blushed.

Snape stared up at her from the armchair, then said softly, “Miss Gran—Hermione, I may not be as attractive or ‘good’ as my counterpart, but I would never treat you as callously as he did. I may not as pleasant as other men, or as social, but I am something that many men are not in this world—true. And it isn’t reciprocal. It isn’t something I dole out as I see fit. It is my nature, my strength in the face of all adversity. All I ask in return, Hermione, is your honesty and consideration of my feelings. That is all I need. If for some reason you find our association unpleasant, all you’ll need to do is tell me, and I will release you.”

Hermione looked down at this world’s professor Snape, with his lank hair, big nose and harsh features. Suddenly, he seemed far more attractive than his silky-haired counterpart. It had nothing to do with looks and demeanor at all. This Severus Snape actually had a heart he was willing to invest. All the good looks in the world couldn’t trump that.

“Could we take it slow?” Hermione asked him plaintively.

This wasn’t a case of extra credit after all. She wasn’t doing as the Romans did in this situation. There were lines being crossed, chances being taken. She was attracted to the professor, but a little scared. She didn’t want to be hurt again.

”As slow as you wish,” Snape replied, a bit pleased that Hermione didn’t want to just leap into his bed, as pleasant as that would be. Anything good was worth waiting for. A proper courtship was in order, despite both their histories with their alternate selves. This was the real world, and in the real world there were rules made more to their liking.

“All right, then,” Hermione said softly. “We can seal the deal with a kiss.”

Snape stood up and drew the witch gently into his arms.

”With a few kisses, I think,” he replied, lowering his mouth to hers.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.