Kiss The Serpent

Disclaimer: Have transfigured J K Rowlings characters for the duration. Don’t own anything here but the plot…and I’m not even sure I own the plot.

A/N: This story is Pre-HBP. Sorry but I cannot live in a world without Dumbledore, so that makes this AU. Technically all fanfic is AU though (IMO) so there you have it.


Chapter 6 Wednesday
On Wednesday morning, Hermione found Ginny Weasley lying in wait as she made her way to breakfast.

“Are you avoiding me, Hermione?” she asked bluntly.

“Hi Ginny! Of course I’m not. Whatever makes you think that?” Hermione continued to make her way to the Great Hall.

“Oh, nothing in particular,“ huffed Ginny, catching up to walk alongside her friend. “Only that you were nowhere to be found on the Hogwarts Express, you are never in your room at night, I haven’t seen you at all in the Common Room and this is the first time I’ve spoken you since we came back to school.”

Hermione’s laugh had an edge to it. “Sorry, Gin, things have been a bit busy lately.” There is the understatement of the year.

“Well, I know you are getting ready for your NEWTs and all, but I thought you might remember I was alive …occasionally.” Something was evidently bothering Ginny.

“I really am sorry. If it’s any consolation, we had to go to a —er— meeting,” Hermione swiftly checked to see who might be listening, “the night before school started. So it wasn’t that I was avoiding you on the train. I wasn’t actually on the train!”

“Well that doesn’t explain why I can’t find you at night,” Ginny complained. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for ages.”

Hermione chewed her lower lip. How could she possible explain that she was spending all her free time getting to know her brand new fiancé, and that this fiancé was none other than Professor Snape? Ginny would have a fit.

“I’m spending a lot of time on a special project. It’s a bit tricky and takes a lot of my spare time. I’ll tell you all about it once it’s a bit further along. Right now, it’s all a bit complicated.’

Ginny looked curious, but placated. “All right, but you have to come to Hogsmeade with me on the weekend, so that we can catch up,” she pouted.

Hogsmeade? Hermione flicked over her mental schedule – this weekend she had to get married. Nope, no room for anything else on the agenda.

“Sorry, Ginny, but I have loads of work to do. I wasn’t planning on going to the village this weekend. I actually have to go away for a few days – it’s to do with my project. There are some problems that need my attention.”

Ginny looked even more annoyed, and then shrugged. “OK, but you have to have breakfast with me today. I want to tell you what happened while we were at home for the holidays.”

Hermione smiled and allowed her to lead the way to the Great Hall. Ginny wouldn’t be put off for long, and she wasn’t looking forward to the day when she had to tell her that she was going to be Mrs Snape.

She had Ancient Runes this morning, which would get her out of having to linger too long with her inquisitive friend, and then she had a library period with the boys just before lunch. She made a mental note to remind them not to say anything to Ginny about the fiasco at the meeting before she had a chance to explain it herself…and before she had to explain to all of them why she had gone ahead with the plan anyway.

************

As Hermione, Harry and Ron left the library after their study period, Draco Malfoy stepped out of nowhere and positioned himself in the middle of the corridor. He was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. It wasn’t accidental. Hermione went to brush past him.

“Ugh! Don’t touch me, Mudblood. I’d rather not have to use a cleaning charm before my next class.” He recoiled with a scowl.

Hermione rolled her eyes and ignored him. At least this time, they weren’t alone. She wasn’t anxious for a repeat of their last encounter.

“Besides, if you touch me, I’d have to hex you,” he drawled, “and I wouldn’t want to spoil His plan.”

She stopped at the emphasis on ‘his’.

“And what exactly does that mean, ferret?” Ron glowered at the blond Slytherin.

Draco raised his eyebrows and looked down his nose at them. “When the time comes, there will be those of us who know, and those of you who don’t.”

“He is talking rubbish…as usual,” Harry dismissed, tugging on Ron’s arm and moving forward again.

Side-stepping Ron, Draco moved directly into Harry’s path so that Harry collided with him. Harry went first red then white. The two boys stood nose to nose, glaring at each other.

“That’s what you think. My father tells me everything. I’d watch my back, if I were you. You’ll need it!” Draco sneered. He seemed delighted at the thought.

Ignoring him, Hermione walked away followed closely by Ron. This time she gripped her wand, just in case. What on earth was Malfoy going on about? The only things his father was involved with also concerned You-Know-Who. There was no way that Mr Malfoy would tell Draco about the Dark Lord’s plans, was there? Perhaps she would speak to Severus about it.

Harry had not moved. Draco was still blocking his path.

As the others disappeared from view, Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Ah, Pot-head, lost your entourage, have we?”

“Shut it, ferret.”

“Make me,” taunted Draco. “But then you are such a big girly hero, you’d probably want to kiss it all better afterwards.”

Harry went pink again.

Draco noticed. “Ooh! Seems I hit a nerve. What’s the matter, scarhead, batting for the other team are we? Does Weaselby know? Or is he your girlfriend now? That must make the Mudblood your handbag!” Derisive laughter echoed in the corridor.

Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it right in Draco’s face. “Shut it, Malfoy, unless you fancy being a bit of Trelawney’s crockery for good.”

“Oh, I am so scared,” Draco drawled in a bored voice. “The big, bad Potter’s got his girly wand pointed at me.”

Blowing a string of kisses into the air, Draco backed away bowing, Crabbe and Goyle at his heels. He held his arms held wide, as though daring Harry to take his best shot. A moment later, he vanished around the corner, whistling as he went.

Harry was left shaking with anger and embarrassment.


***********

Hermione realised the time was coming when she would have to tell Ron and Harry. It was better that they hear it from her rather than from someone else. Not that anyone else knew, of course, just the Headmaster so far. She figured the Order hadn’t been informed yet, because no-one had sent any owls, or any Howlers, and no-one had told the boys.

She went to dinner in the Great Hall, lost in her thoughts. Rounding a corner she ran headlong into a solid figure and almost lost her footing.

“Miss Granger.”

No one else ever used her name in that tone of voice.

“Professor.”

Severus stared at her, as though her were engaged in an internal debate.

“Miss Granger, I am planning to take a walk by the lake this evening after dinner.”

Small talk from the Professor. Was that an invitation or just an attempt at conversation?

Tentatively she offered, “I hear the lake is beautiful at night, sir.”

Severus’ expression never wavered. “It is, Miss Granger, although one must be wary of the Thestrals as Hagrid allows them to roam freely at night.”

Ok, perhaps this was just conversation then, she decided.

“I see. Well, they probably enjoy the freedom and fresh air.”

He looked like he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Indeed, Miss Granger. You look like you might benefit from the fresh air also.”

It WAS an invitation. She could have screamed in frustration. It was so Slytherin! Why couldn’t he just ask rather than dance about it? Unless he thought she’d say no. Which was just daft, she had foolishly agreed to everything else he had suggested.

Stifling her annoyance, she smiled up at the Professor. “I would, sir. Perhaps you would like some company? I would offer to protect you from the Thestrals, but as I cannot see them I fear it is you who would have to protect me.”

Severus blinked once before replying. “Indeed, Miss Granger. Aren’t you concerned that I might be tempted to feed you to them instead?”

“Not at all. Then you would be forced to begin this courting ritual all over again with someone else. I’m sure you have much better things to do than that.” It took great effort to keep the smile off her face. “Besides, I’m sure the sight of you holding my hand will probably be enough to scare away the fiercest of beasts”.

If he was surprised by her teasing, he didn’t show it. “You may be right, in which case I shall do my utmost to prevent you from becoming their next meal,” he deadpanned.

Did that mean he would look after her…or that he was prepared to hold her hand? Her stomach lurched. “I’d appreciate that, sir.”

He nodded and moved away, disappearing swiftly from view.

As the last of Snape’s cloak disappeared around the corner, Ron and Harry appeared and pounced on Hermione.

“What did the old git want?” Ron demanded.

Here is your opportunity, girl.

“Honestly, Ronald,” Hermione sighed, “must you speak about him like that?”

“Why not, Hermione? It’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything,” Ron said sarcastically.

Hermione looked at them in silence. It took a minute for the silence to translate into Actually he IS my boyfriend you stupid, great lumps. Ron’s face fell.

“You didn’t,” he pleaded. “Please, tell me you didn’t!”

“What choice did I have, Ron? His life is at stake. I’d do it for you too, or you, Harry. I’d do it for anyone in the Order if it would help bring down Voldemort,” she turned to the dark-haired boy standing silently beside his friend. “It’s not about…sex,” Gods, why did I have to stumble over that word, “it’s about doing the right thing.”

“When?” Harry’s voice was tight.

“We are supposed to be getting married on Sunday, then he has a week before Mr Malfoy acts.”

“That’s only four days away!” Ron was disgusted. Hermione reached out and grabbed his arm.

“Ron, I know you will find this hard to believe, but apart from being enormously stubborn, he has been very decent to be around. He’s actually treating me like a human being. He hasn’t insulted me once,” she declared softly, surprised to realise that it was actually true.

Ron and Harry exchanged skeptical glances.

“I’m not asking you to like it. To be truthful, I’m still not certain that I like it myself,” Hermione admitted, “but I AM asking you to respect my decision. Please, I don’t want to lose my two best friends over this.”

“You won’t lose us, Hermione,” Harry declared. “We’ll still be here for you long after he is gone.”

Hermione smiled unsteadily at them. “Thank you. And besides, who was to say you would have liked my first lover anyway? You didn’t like Viktor either!”

They all laughed, although it was a strangely forced sound.

************

Dinner was a quiet affair, with each of them lost in their thoughts. Ginny had joined them, sitting next to Harry, but was holding a rather one-way conversation with him. Harry was at his monosyllabic best.

Hermione schooled herself not to sneak glances at the High Table but found it difficult to resist. Only four days to go. Four days until she would be married to …him. He was turning out to be rather different than she had expected. Whilst the same in essentials she had discovered other layers to the enigma that was Severus Snape. He showed the perfect manners of a gentleman, he had shown her courtesy, even humour in his own trademark fashion. He had ceased insulting her, had even accepted her kisses.

Kisses.

Glancing again at the High Table, her heart jolted. Only four days until she slept with him, sharing intimacies she had only read about in books. She certainly had never imagined that he would be her first lover, and before she even finished school.

Out of the corner of her eye she observed him eating. He was deft and methodical, his long, elegant fingers delicate in their precise movements – the product of being a Potions Master. He had marvelous attention to detail. Would that transfer into other things too? She bit her lip softly.

He raised his fork to his mouth. His lips were thin and cruel-looking, and yet she couldn’t help but recall how they had felt when she had kissed him. They didn’t feel cruel. They were warm and smooth. And tasted amazing.

Suddenly, his head lifted and he met her gaze. She gulped down a mouthful of pumpkin juice and looked away. It wouldn’t do to be caught gazing at her teacher in such a way, even by him! Especially by him.

When the meal was over, Hermione watched Severus sweep out into the Entrance Hall. After a couple of minutes, she made her own discreet exit, smoothing her skirt with slightly damp palms as she went.

She found him standing on the steps, looking out over the grounds towards the lake. He looked up as she joined him, and by wordless agreement they began to walk across the lawns to the path that would take them to the water’s edge and beyond the sight of any accidental onlookers.

The night was incredibly still. The reflection of the crescent moon was bright in the black water of the lake. There was hardly a breeze to ripple its surface. Occasionally a long tentacle would hover above the surface, slapping playfully at fireflies and billywigs as they played in the night air.

After several minutes of comfortable silence, she asked him the question at the forefront of her mind. “Does Hagrid really let the Thestrals out at night?”

Hermione wished the moon was brighter because she could have sworn she saw a smile cross his features before he turned his head away.

“Have you been thinking about that all evening? What happened to that famous Gryffindor courage?”

“There is courage and there is foolhardiness, Severus. I hope I am not foolish enough to face an adversary that I can’t even see.”

“Wise words, Miss Granger. Actually Hagrid does let the Thestrals out at night, but they are confined to the Forbidden Forest. You are safe.”

From them, at least, the thought came unbidden.

“Oh, does this mean you won’t be needing to hold my hand then, sir?” she teased with mock disappointment.

Severus gave her an odd look, but ignored the question. It appeared he wasn’t used to teasing after all.

They walked on in silence. Hermione’s gaze settled on the lake. He was somehow different this evening. More relaxed. Hermione wondered what might have happened to cause such a change. He was being positively civil! Distracted by him, she caught her foot on a loose stone. In surprise she grasped at the nearest thing to prevent herself falling and found herself clutching Severus arm. He raised one black eyebrow.

“Sorry,” she apologised, snatching her hands back, “I lost my footing.”

He gave her that odd look again. “Perhaps you should take my hand, Miss Granger, to save me the trouble of having to carry you back to the castle when you sprain your ankle. I have no desire to play Lancelot to your Guinevere.” The words were sarcastic but they lacked their usual heat.

Without waiting for permission, he grasped her hand securely and continued walking. To an onlooker, they were just two more shadows in the night.

His hand was warm and gentle. It felt strange to be wandering along the lakes edge holding hands with a man who, less than a week ago, did not speak to her except to ridicule. It was an unexpectedly intimate connection.

Hermione felt awkward. She was painfully conscious of his hand holding hers. He was so tall, he made her feel slightly defenseless, and yet somehow she felt safe in his company. An imposing figure, yet he blended easily into the shadows of the night. Only his pale skin glowed strangely in the dim moonlight, his expression unreadable.

They walked that way for half an hour, exchanging occasional comments but mostly just enjoying the night. Then Hermione remembered she had something to ask him.

“Severus, how much does Draco know?”

“Malfoy?” Severus looked askance. “Nothing of consequence, I imagine. Why?”

Hermione related Draco’s taunts. “Is it possible that Mr Malfoy actually tells him things of importance? Do you think he also knows about the prophecy and his father’s plans for you?”

Severus stared out over the lake, contemplating how much he could safely reveal.

“Malfoy is not in the Dark Lord’s confidence, although I understand it is Lucius’ wish that he take the Dark Mark - after graduation, when he is free to respond to any summons he may be given,” he evaded.

“But Mr Malfoy could still be telling him things about their plans, couldn’t he? He might know more about all this than we do.”

Severus shrugged as though the idea was insignificant. “I shall speak to him at some point. If he knows anything, I’ll find out.” It occurred to him that this was not altogether a bad idea, not that she needed to know that, of course. He would find some time to speak to Draco and find out exactly what he did know. It might prove useful.

Hermione turned her attention back to the lake. She would have liked to discuss it further but Severus’ dismissal was clear.

It occurred to Hermione on the walk back that tonight would be the perfect opportunity for him to kiss her as part of their memory-making exercise. Perhaps she should suggest it. They had shared a perfectly pleasant, even romantic, walk. He was holding her hand. Yes, she decided, it is the perfect chance for him to kiss me, except that he probably won’t.

Now why did that make her feel so disappointed? I can’t believe I actually want him to kiss me! When did that happen? Hermione started to dread the possibility that he might kiss her and discover she liked it, almost as much as she dreaded the possibility that he didn’t like her enough to kiss her at all.

She would have been surprised to discover that his thoughts were heading in a similar direction.

It is almost time to return. She has kissed me twice already. Will she do the same tonight? Severus was already aware that Hermione was the more tactile of the two of them, not to mention the fact that she was being asked to marry a man 20 years her senior. Until last week, he had been simply her teacher. Perhaps it was appropriate to allow her to dictate the speed at which any physical intimacy progressed – notwithstanding the fact that they would be consummating their marriage on Sunday.

He tried to resist the involuntary tightening in his gut. The thought made his mouth go dry.

As they reached the steps to the castle, they paused. Severus did not release her hand, and she looked up at him expectantly.

Am I supposed to say something? he wondered. It never even occurred to him to kiss her.

He bowed over her hand and wished her good night. He did not see her eyes cloud over in frustration. When he straightened, she had a polite smile fixed on her face.

She opened her mouth to say something, but obviously thought better of it. Instead she wished him good evening and withdrew her hand from his.

Watching her retreat into the castle, he was astonished to discover that he was disappointed. He suddenly missed the warmth of her hand in his. She hadn’t kissed him goodnight and he found himself wishing she had.

Severus shook his head against the thought. You are getting daft, old man. She isn’t doing this because she likes you. She’s doing it because she’s a ridiculous Gryffindor – she’d marry the Giant Squid if Albus told her doing so would save it from the Dark Lord’s clutches.

The bitter thought wrapped itself around the softening in his chest and pierced him like a spike. With a scowl, he banished all thoughts of soft brown eyes and with his normal silent grace, stalked back to his dungeon chambers.

*****************
A/N: My apologies to Wartcap who insists that Severus doesn’t stalk…

Thanks to everyone who reviewed previous chapters. You make my day. I try to email people personally if I can in reply. My apologies if you don't get one!
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