The Seduction Game

Disclaimer: All of the Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling/Warnerbros. I am making no money.

Right, another chapter at last... Sorry it\'s been so long, please give me some feedback on this! :)
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Severus looked up, but not at her. His gaze stared into the night and the view of the Spanish mountains as he said: “Excuse me?”

He couldn’t bring himself to believe she’d meant what he thought she’d meant. If she had... No. It wasn’t possible. He wouldn’t allow himself to even hope for it.

“I wondered if yours does,” said Hermione quietly, looking out into the night along with him.

Severus forced a smile. “You are wondering if my tongue works magic,” he said in a voice filled with the convidence and calm he didn’t possess.

She nodded, but didn’t speak.

For a moment, he debated on whether or not to actually show her what kind of magic his tongue could work. But his common sense and rational being worked against him, and at long last he simply asked: “Why would you ask me such a thing, Hermione?”

She didn’t seem to take too fondly to the question. Naturally, thought Severus, who would enjoy having to answer a question like that? And although he feared her answer, he was still quietly enjoying her shyness in the matter.

“I believe I have accomplished my goal,” he said after a short while of silence.

“What’s that?” asked Hermione.

“To stifle the unstoppable mouth of Hermione Granger.”

She laughed. “You haven’t, really,” she said. “I was just wondering what to answer you.”

“Is it so difft tot to answer a simple question?”

“Why don’t you tell me? You didn’t answer mine, after all.”

“Your little tongue question?” he smirked.

“Yes,” she said with a grin, “my tongue question.”

“I believe,” he said, stretching his back slightly - sitting there on the floor wasn’t exactly comfortable, “that I cannot for myself judge the magic of my tongue.”

“Why not?”

“It will not work on me, Hermione.”

She laughed again, the sound was intoxicating. Severus loved her laughter. “I should think your tongue is a lot more magical than Lucius’s though,” she said.

“I will not argue with you,” he said.

“Good, I wouldn’t have let you. I know the kind of magic Lucius’s tongue works, and it’s no good.”

He smiled. She was certainly strong about it, already she was joking about what he had nearly done to her. She didn’t seem too inflicted by the incident.

“But I asked,” she continued quietly, “because I do NOT know what kind of magic your tongue works.”

“I do believe the scotch has gone to your head,” said Severus.

“So what if it has? I’m not an idiot, though I may be a bit blurred.”

“A bit?” he repeated. “That is an understatement.”

“You’re blurred yourself, Professor,” said Hermione. “You know that?”

“Me? I never get drunk.”

She laughed. “Of course you do. Contrary to certain beliefs, you’re not immune to the world around you.”

“No, I am not,” agreed Severus. “Not to all of it. But I am certainly more immune than you,” he added as her head fell heavily against the wall of the Manor, “you seem completely pissed.”

“I’m not pissed,” she smiled, rubbing the back of her head. “Really. I’m just tired, I’ve had a very - special - encounter tonight, and I’m sitting on a porch drinking scotch with my former Professor. I think that qualifies for a bit of special behaviour, don’t you?”

“I suppose,” he nodded. “As long as you don’t mind portraying that special behaviour in front of the earlier mentioned former Professor, then I will not contradict you.”

“Good. And I don’t mind,” she added, turning her head to look at him. “Actually, I rather enjoy portraying unusual behaviour in front of my former Professor - it emphasizes the fact that you are indeed no longer any teacher I have to hand in potions to.”

He smirked. “You’re on dangerous grounds, Hermione,” he said in a deep voice.

“Why?” she smiled.

“You are challenging my authority,” he replied. “We have already decided earlier that my authority is gold to me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Professor,” she said in mock care. “From now on I shall treat you with the respect and authority you deserve!”

“Good,” he said in a voice of pretend stricktness. “Now, I have a matter at hand which needs to be discussed.”

“Really? What might that be?”

“I believe I answered your question in the end,” said Severus, “regarding my legendary magical tongue. But you never really answered my original question in return.”

“Which was?”

“Why did you ask your little tongue question in the first place, Hermione?”

She fell silent again, the seriousness dawning upon them once more.

“Although I enjoyed stiffling your mouth, Miss Granger,” said Severus, “I would love to get an answer to my question.”

“I suppose,” she began at last, “to be honest, that I was hoping for something to take my mind off Lucius. Or maybe, rather, something to show me that not all ex Death Eaters were like him. That not everything’s black and white, you know?”

“And that has what, exactly, to do with my tongue?”

He looked at her, and noticed that she was blushing. Yet she didn’t take her gaze away from his as she spoke: “You said you couldn’t judge the magic of your tongue by yourself, naturally enough. I was trying to say that I wanted to judge it myself.”

His guess had been right. He couldn’t believe it. She HAD meant what he’d thought she had meant, and she was willing. She was practically offering herself to him, blissfully unaware of the consequences.

Back out now, Severus, he told himself, before it goes too far.

Yet he couldn’t. He’d wanted this since Hermione had been in her seventh year, and throughout that year he had convinced himself that she was too young and innocent to handle him. Of course she was, and furthermore - he didn’t deserve her, even if she wanted him in return.

Yet... Who was he to argue, when she was the one making the offer?

“Is that so?” he said at last, in a mere whisper.

She nodded. He leaned in closer to her, but hesitated. It wasn’t right, not at all. She’d just been abused by what had once been his closest friend, a man he had on countless occasions compared himself to and wished to be like.

She must have noticed his hesitation, for she whispered: “You are not Lucius.”

That was all it took, his sense and reason was thrown aside. He leaned in, his left hand stroked her cheek and cupped her face as he bent down and caught her lips with his, their eyes closing.

She tasted everything he had ever anticipated, and more. Exploring her soft lips, he dared to dart his tongue out and taste her bottom lip, only to be met by an approving moan from Hermione. It was an encouragement as much as anything, and when her lips parted Severus willingly entered, his tongue meeting hers and gently exploring every inch of her mouth.

Their kiss grew more passionate, Hermione’s hands moved out and snaked their way around Severus’s shoulders, caressing his neck and hair with her fingers. He pulled her closer, inhaling the scent and taste of her, wanting more.

At last, she broke the kiss, drawing breath as she did so. Their faces were inches apart.

“It’s a different kind of magic,” she smiled.

“What kind?” he asked.

“The good one,” she replied, her eyes sparkling. “The kind I like, the kind I was hoping for.” Moving slightly, she settled herself under his arm and leaneainsainst his chest, taking his hands in hers as she did so.

He’d never felt this pleased. She, Hermione Granger, was there, in his arms, encouraging him to embrace her.

He smiled and released his hands from hers, putting his right around her waist while his left travelled up along her bare arm to her neck and throat, caressing it gently.

“Mmm,” she said in a mere whisper, closing her eyes.

He drew a big breath. Of course, she wasn’t exactly sober. The tiredness that came over her now was a result of her blurred state, as she’d so modestly called it. Severus could demand nothing of her and so, settling with what he had gotten tonight - her approval, her wanton and her perfect kiss - he let her drift to sleep in his arms.

* * *

Hermione awoke, the first sensation springing to her mind being a painful headache.

She knew whenever she got a bit too much to drink, she didn’t necessarily behave undecent, she just became a bit careless and melancholic.
Thoughts of the night before reached her as she sat up in her bed.

Lucius. His hands all over her, craving and demanding, frightening... How could she have been so stupid? She cursed herself for her naïvity, but then recalled what had happened - Professor Snape.

Severus Snape, who’d even refused her to call him Severus, although she’d allowed him to call her Hermione. Her former Professor who’d come to the rescue and saved her from being raped by his former friend Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione stood up from her bed. She was still wearing her dress from the night before, which suggested she hadn’t gotten herself into her bed.

Again - Professor Snape.

She remembered it now. The talk in his room, on his porch...

Hermione couldn’t help but smiling at the thought of discussing his “magical tongue” over and over again. It had been magical. They’d kissed.

Oh dear. She’d kissed Severus Snape. Or rather, he’d kissed her, but she’d asked him to do so. And then...

She remembered, to her relief, that nothing else had happened. She’d made herself comfortable in his arms, falling asleep due to the alcohol. He’d taken care of her, it seemed, brought her to her room and put her to bed, without being so improper that he’d undressed her.

He’d simply layed her down in her bed, covered her with the sheets and left her to her happy sleep. The work of a true gentleman.

She smiled and made her way to her bathroom. Staring at herself in the mirror she shuddered. Her hair was as bushy as it had ever been, from both Lucius’s violent actions and her sleep. Her make-up didn’t look too good now, and she was visually tired.

She rubbed her eyes sleepily and splashed some water in her face, then brushed her teeth and took a quick shower. It really woke her up, and following the shower she took a quick hangover potion to take care of her head before she was to make her way to breakfast.

She got dressed and made to leave her room, when something on her nightstand caught her eye.

A envelope, on which it said the words, “Hermione Granger”.

Smiling, Hermione walked over and opened the envelope. Professor Snape had probably written her a letter explaining last night and how she had ended up in her own bed. Even the more gentleman, she thought.

She pulled out the parchment and began reading it with joy.

The joy, however, soon turned into a feeling of discomfort evolving deep in the pit of her stomach as she realized who the note was from. With trembling hands, she read it:


Dear Miss Hermione Granger,

I am sorry for the encounter we found ourselves having last night. I think I would have been able to rectify your impression of me - and even improve it - had it not been for my dear friend Seves uns unwelcomed appearance. He interrupted what could have been a most intriguing evening.

Not to worry. I sincerely promise you, Hermione, I will ensure that the evening will indeed take placnd wnd without failure. There is still a lot I feel you owe me.

Prepare yourself to welcome my return.

Yours truly,
Lucius Malfoy


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There we are! Reviews, I\'d love some... Seem Lucius isn\'t quite finished yet....