Through the Looking Glass ~ COMPLETED

Chapter 58 ~ Dinner

Snape was a decent cook and for tonight’s meal he prepared a small beef roast
with gravy, accompanied by roast potatoes, sweet peas and carrots. For dessert
he made treacle tarts. He noticed Hermione seemed partial to them while at Hogwarts.

It wasn’t a fancy meal, but at least it met Hermione’s nutritional requirements
for him. Besides, Hermione proved to be of such a frugal nature, Snape had a
feeling that if he served anything extravagant, like prawns for example, he’d
get a lecture. Tonight wasn’t the night for lectures. Simple was safer.

Over the months, Snape had added thirty pounds and was no longer the gaunt
wizard of former times. He was still lean, but a healthy weight.

Snape showered and washed his hair thoroughly in anticipation of his night with
Hermione. He was a bit nervous about engaging the young woman. This was the
first time in his life that he was going to be with a witch that meant something
to him, and it promised to be much different than his occasional dalliances with
prostitutes or drunken women he’d picked up in some pub.

He loved Hermione and much of his worry was that he might become too passionate.
The gods knew that despite his appearance of control, there were evenings where
he wanted to throw control out of the turret window and let Hermione’s desire
take him over. It had been a rather desperate fight on his part, although
Hermione was never the wiser.

He would have to maintain control, to think. He couldn’t just let animal lust
take him over. What he felt for Hermione was more than that, and he wanted to be
sure she knew it. The “L” word hadn’t come up, but she would need to hear it
from him tonight, and she would. His greatest hope was that her feelings were
reciprocal—that she would say she loved him as well.

Not since Lily Evans had Severus felt such a strong desire for a witch, and that
had ended painfully. Actually, it hadn’t ended until Voldemort’s departure.
Snape’s loyalty to a deceased witch that didn’t love him back led him to protect
her son, Harry, as if he were his own. But Harry wasn’t his own—he was the son
of his nemesis, James Potter.

It had been a twisted existence, and the Potions master often told himself he
was insane during those dark times, but despite those feelings, he continued
until the threat to Harry Potter was past. He would have died for him, if
necessary.

If not for the appearance and engagement with alternate Hermione, Snape might
have continued to pine for Lily Potter and not been open to the possibility of a
decent relationship with this world’s Hermione. True, his relationship with her
counterpart was one of opportunity, but that wasn’t the case with the Gryffindor
witch.

Hermione was the first person in his life who truly cared for him, and showed it
fiercely. She was protective, opinionated and outspoken. She sincerely wished to
be with him. Her affections were real and affecting. Anytime Snape took Hermione
into his arms and her lips met his, it was electric, something that thrilled and
swelled his once cold heart.

So this was what happiness felt like.

Now tonight would be the consummation, when they came together physically. Snape
felt since he was the one with more sexual experience, it was up to him to make
sure it would be a good experience for Hermione. He didn’t want to drive her
off. He wanted her happy and satisfied with him in every way. So it wouldn’t be
sex as usual. There would have to be restraint, at least in the beginning.

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As she readied herself to spend the night with Severus, Hermione was feeling a
bit of her own performance anxiety. Snape had been with her counterpart, and
Hermione had no doubt that she had been quite talented and experienced
concerning sex. Hermione’s experience with Gryffindor Snape had been good, but
once she deconstructed it, she found it very one-sided. He had handled
everything and basically dominated her in bed. She hadn’t really done anything
but be there and experience the pleasure. She was sure if it had been her
counterpart, she would have been much more aggressive.

And there was the concern. What if she wasn’t’ good? What if Severus found her
lacking when it came to intimacy? What if he wanted her to do something she’d
never done? Would she freeze up? Would she say no? And would he take it as a
rejection or believe she was frigid? The wizard she was in love with had
experience. She didn’t. How could they be true equals if she couldn’t keep up
with him in the bedroom?

Then she remembered something Gryffindor Snape had told her before they had sex:

There are women who men take and forget, and then there are women they take
and can’t get out of their heads. The women who are forever remembered and
longed for.

And he had told her the secret to being one of those women. But she couldn’t
remember it exactly. Luckily, she had a small Pensieve, perfect for small
memories. After sifting through several bags, Hermione located the small blue
bowl, sat down on the edge of her bed and quickly removed her memories with her
wand tip.

She took a deep breath, then stared down into the swirling silver liquid. She
found herself once again in Gryffindor Snape’s bedroom, only this time not as a
participant, but an observer. It was a bit jarring to see herself and the
alternate Snape lying naked in bed together, but she stoically sucked it up and
got through it, listening intently to his advice.

In the end, “Turnabout is fair play” was the gist of it.

Hermione let out a sigh as she exited the Pensieve. Alternate Snape had been a
wonderful sexual partner physically, but Hermione felt he had left her empty
emotionally. And he had. He felt no connection to her at all afterwards. It had
been “business as usual.”

But the advice he gave her concerning men was something she could carry with her
all her days.

At least he had given her that much.

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Snape had just set the main meal out on the table when Hermione arrived,
knocking on his door. She had let herself into the shop and walked the narrow
flight of stairs up to his apartment. Her heart was racing and she did her best
to appear calm.

Snape drew a deep breath and opened the door, looking down at the woman who
moved him more than any other in existences. Hermione was dressed in a nice,
blue robe and her wild hair was suitably tamed for the occasion, having more
curl than bushiness. She had made herself up demurely with just a touch of eye
makeup and lipstick, and had a small carryall bag in her hand, which Snape
quickly took.

”Punctual as ever,” he said softly, kissing her lightly then escorting her in
and closing the door.

Hermione watched as he set the carryall on the floor near the sofa. She felt as
if she couldn’t move as he turned back toward her. He looked rather concerned
since she hadn’t spoken at all.

”Are you all right, Hermione?” he asked her, catching one of her hands. It was
almost as cold as ice. The wizard placed another warm, pale hand around it,
rubbing gently.

”My gods, you feel as if you’ve been out in the dead of winter. Come, sit down
at the table,” Snape said solicitously, guiding Hermione to the dinner spread
and pulling out her chair. She sat down rather stiffly.

Snape cast a small warming spell on the food to keep it from going cold while he
made Hermione a strong cup of hot tea to warm and relax her. From his little
spice/potions rack he added just a touch of mint-flavored Replenishing potion to
shore her up a bit. He pressed the cup into her hand.

”You take your time and drink that,” he told her, sitting down across from
Hermione.

She robotically brought the cup to her lips as Snape began to tell her about all
of the people who kept knocking on the shop door during the evening, and how he
finally had the shop rise up from the ground to keep the curious from disturbing
him.

”Actually, the shop is up on two legs right now,” he told her as she began to
relax.

”Is it?” she asked him, speaking her first words since arriving. “I didn’t feel
any movement.”

Snape smirked at her.

”That’s part of its magic. Nothing inside is at all disturbed when it moves. It
could be running top speed and unless we were at the windows, we wouldn’t know
it.”

Both of Hermione’s eyebrows rose at this revelation.

”So, it could run away with us and we wouldn’t know? That’s not exactly
comforting, Severus,” she said, looking around the apartment and out of one of
the windows. They weren’t moving now.

Snape chuckled.

”It won’t go anywhere unless I order it, Hermione. Don’t worry, we won’t
suddenly be carried off, I promise you,” he said with a smirk.

Feeling more relaxed by his conversation and the spiked tea, Hermione looked at
dinner, then up at him.

”You cooked this?” she asked him.

”Yes,” he replied shortly, watching as Hermione cut into the roast and inserted
a piece into her mouth. She chewed critically, then swallowed and smiled at him.

”That’s rather good,” she said, cutting into a roast potato and swirling a piece
in the rich brown gravy made from scratch.

”Of course it’s good,” Snape replied, cutting and spearing a piece of meat
himself. “I am a Potions master after all. If I can brew potions which require
proper measures of ingredients and precise heating, I can certainly cook savory
meals.”

He popped the sliver of meat into his mouth and chewed, arching an eyebrow at
Hermione, who smiled at him.

”Such modesty,” she said sarcastically, eating a few peas. They were tender,
sweet and flavorful.

Snape’s big nose wrinkled a bit.

”Ah, Modesty,” he purred at her. “The gentle art of enhancing your charm by
pretending not to be aware of it. I’m afraid that’s not me. Charm be damned. If
you’ve got it, you’ve got it.”

Hermione laughed out loud.

”You’re incorrigible,” she told him, totally relaxed now. Snape’s normalcy was
like a balm to her. They began to talk about future plans for the shop over the
meal, Hermione’s excitement more than evident.

”We’re going to have to put out monthly schedules that give the dates and times
the shop will be in what town. It’s going to take a bit of work to get it right,
because customers will need to be able to pick up their orders, unless we
provide owl post service. I’m sure we can get a good deal on it,” she chattered
as Snape listened.

”We can add our own owlery,” the wizard said shortly as Hermione’s eyes lit up.

”Yes! That’s a wonderful idea! And owls need little feeding as they prefer to
hunt their own food when possible,” she replied as Snape retrieved dessert.
Treacle tarts and cold milk. Hermione looked at the tarts, impressed.

”You made these too?” she asked him.

Snape nodded, then said, “My mother’s recipe.”

Hermione fell silent for a moment. She knew his terrible story of how his Muggle
father killed his mother, then himself. She never imagined there were normal
times when Eileen Snape baked for her family. One usually didn’t think about
such things when there was such tragedy. She reverently took a bite of the tart,
savoring the flaky pastry and sweet blend of oats, ginger, lemon and golden
syrup.

”It’s absolutely delicious, Severus,” Hermione said, drinking some milk.

”It was my favorite dessert as a boy,” he replied, his black eyes a bit distant.

Hermione looked at him sympathetically, knowing he had few pleasant memories of
his childhood. Most of them seemed to revolve around Harry’s mother, when they
were friends. They had been very close at one time, Lily helping him with charms
and Severus helping her with potions. He had told Hermione their friendship
ended abruptly, but never told her exactly what happened.

The rest of his life had been awful, although he never complained about it. But,
he did show Hermione some of the scars on his back when she felt them through
his robes one evening when they were snogging. He unbuttoned the first few
buttons of his robes, turned and pulled them down over his shoulder, showing the
criss-crossed scars on his pale upper back. Hermione had cried when she saw
them, and clutched him as if he were going to melt away.

”Don’t cry, Hermione,” Snape had murmured, drawing his robes back up again, then
turning and taking her into his arms, stroking her hair gently as she sobbed. No
one had ever shown such empathy for what he’d gone through for the Greater Good,
and it endeared Hermione to him even more. “What’s done is done, and I don’t
have to suffer any longer now that the Dark Lord has moved on.”

Hermione then railed against Dumbledore for several minutes, demanding to know
why he didn’t do more to protect him. Snape explained there was nothing that
could be done without arousing suspicion. Hermione refused to believe that, and
her opinion of the deceased Headmaster was significantly lowered, despite the
fact that Albus had done the best he could considering the circumstances.

In fact, he had just been about to go and retrieve Marvalo Gaunt’s ring, which
was hidden in the ruins of his home. It was a gold ring with the Peverell coat
of arms etched into a black stone. Albus believed it held one of Voldemort’s
Horcruxes. But he never got a chance to put his plans into action. Destiny had
another larger plan this time.

Snape and Hermione finished their meal, collected the dishes and washed them
Muggle style, a huge water fight breaking out that soaked the both of them and
ended in quite a hot snogging session as Snape attempted to kiss Hermione into
submission.

The struggle for domination ended in the living room with both of them on the
sofa. Hermione won the struggle, lying atop the wizard and snogging him until he
breathlessly gave in, then letting him up. Snape pulled at his wet robes, then
pulled out his wand to dry the both of them off. He dried his own robes first,
then pointed his wand at Hermione, who suddenly shook her head.

”No, I’ll just take them off,” she said to the wizard, then stood up. She began
to work at her fasteners.

Snape watched her, expecting her usual t-shirt and jeans beneath her robes.
Hermione unfastened her robes and took a deep breath—

”It’s now or never,” she thought to herself as she whipped her robes open and
let them slide down her arms and to the floor.

Snape stiffened as he looked at her. She was dressed in a short, Slytherin green
silk nightie that stopped mid thigh and clung to her like a second skin, flaring
at her hips. Her bare shoulders were visible, thin straps holding it on. Her
cleavage was mouth-wateringly displayed.

All he could do was blink. He certainly hadn’t expected this.

”I—I thought I’d take some initiative,” Hermione said softly. She was still in
her socks and trainers, but it did nothing to take away from the effect as far
as Snape was concerned.

”Let’s hear it for initiative,” the wizard replied, before catching her hand and
pulling her into his lap. Hermione gasped as he yanked her feet up and proceeded
to remove her trainers and socks, dropping them to the floor, then gathering her
into his arms.

”You are—exquisite,” Snape breathed, covering her mouth with his own.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.