WLTM

Hermione could hardly sleep on the Friday before her date. She lay in bed, watching shadows caused by car lights as they passed. Not only was she excited and nervous about meeting her soul mate, she had also started working on the bezoar project with Severus.



She thought about today in the lab and realised that they had worked well together. Severus was methodical and they had discussed in intricate detail each aspect of the process before finally acting on it, noting the positive and negative reactions. His movements were graceful, almost fluid as he added the various compounds. His eyes stayed alert to the changes within the cauldron, waiting for the optimum moment. Hermione sighed deeply. She felt she would always be in awe of his skills and ability and could never tire of watching him work.



Restlessly, she plumped up her pillow and pushed her curly head into it, forcing her eyes to close and her mind to still until she fell into a fitful sleep.



****



Severus was reading and drinking Firewhisky. He often found himself like this, in his chair in front of the fire. It could have been a night like any other, but it wasn’t. He couldn’t concentrate and his thoughts were a jumble he couldn’t fit together.



Tomorrow he would meet his soul mate and he had cold feet. In the space of the last few hours, he had convinced himself that Valentine Passiflora was a charlatan of the first order and had used her straight talking manner to hoodwink him into believing she knew her stuff.



How could he - Severus Snape, ex-Potions Master, ex-Deatheater, surly, sullen and sulky, not to mention snarky and sarcastic, with very little in the way of a bedside manner – how could he possible merit having a soul mate? It was too preposterous for words. Why would any woman who was worth anything look at him as a potential life partner, one half to make a whole? Severus was seriously regretting not cancelling his third appointment.



In addition to his plague of self-doubt, Severus found himself thinking about Hermione more than was usual. Working on the bezoar elixir had excited her and her enthusiasm was contagious. He smiled as he remembered her relief when he told her the first stage was complete and looked to have been a success. Her amber eyes had been bright, her mouth turned up a little smugly. Over the course of the afternoon her hair had escaped the elastic band it had been tied in and had hung in long, curled lengths around her face. She had to hook it behind her ears and more than once he had caught himself watching her as she did so.



He was aware he had become fond of her and he hoped her weekend was all she hoped it would be. Because he had a feeling his would be a farce.





****



Late on Saturday afternoon, Hermione was walking along the busy street where Valentine had her office. Following her instructions, however, Hermione walked passed the door and into the ‘phone box just adjacent to it, her holdall clutched tightly in her sweaty hand.



She was early and took the opportunity to check her appearance in the glass door. Her hair was glossy and smooth and she was wearing a little more make-up than usual. She was wearing her cream linen Capri pants and pale blue gypsy top. She had teamed this with her gold strappy sandals and her denim jacket. Not knowing where she was going had made her wardrobe decisions even harder so she had packed an evening dress and a warm fleece, plus her jeans and trainers, just in case.



A two-pence coin started to glow blue on the shelf beside the ‘phone and Hermione nervously touched it with her finger. The familiar and thoroughly unpleasant feeling of being pulled from behind her navel hit her and she felt herself spinning and falling for quite some time until she fell gracefully, feet first, onto a wide expanse of lawn.



Hermione was a little disorientated and took a deep breath, looking out onto a vista of formal gardens as far as her eye could see. She heard a pop and turned around quickly. A house elf stood formally, his hands clasped in front of himself and bowed slowly.



‘You must be Miss Granger, ‘ his voice was old and gravely but his diction perfect.



Hermione smiled. ‘That’s me. And you are?’



‘Hopkins, ma’am, here to serve, ‘ he bowed again and Hermione grinned as she saw his greying hair, smoothed and slicked across the top of his head tidily.



‘Nice to meet you, Hopkins. Do you know what I’m meant to do now?’ she smiled at him as he straightened himself.



‘Indeed ma’am, if you would follow me to your room. Dinner will be served in your private dining room in precisely one hour.’ Hopkins stepped forward and took Hermione’s bag, shrinking it so he could carry it comfortably and she walked after him, her eyes curious.



As they walked across the lawn and around a line of topiary conifers, Hermione gasped. Previously hidden from her view was a large Manor House with a Georgian frontage, the door flanked with two pillars of yellow stone. It was stunning. The interior didn’t disappoint her either and her room was actually a suite of rooms, a double bedroom with an en-suite bathroom, tiled from floor to ceiling in pale marble with gold fittings and to her delight, a dining area set in a window recess and a large lounge with a huge marble fireplace. To Hermione’s delight, a full library could be accessed from her lounge containing both muggle and magical reading materials. Only one room appeared to be locked and she assumed it was a cupboard. Hermione glanced at the clock and went to run herself a bath, her stomach doing back flips. In an hour, she would meet him and she couldn’t wait.



****



Severus was dressed in a new suit he had purchased for the weekend. The jacket was black and long, almost a tail- coat but with squared edges. His shirt was white and crisp and he decided to forego his tie. Since his encounter with Nagini, anything too constricting around his neck was decidedly uncomfortable. He fastened his Slytherin cufflinks, checked his appearance a little in the mirror and smoothed his hair with his hands. A lump formed in his throat as his eyes lingered on his own face. A face only a mother could love, he grimaced. He closed his eyes and swallowed, hoping there was Firewhisky in the dining room. He opened the door leading into the lounge and walked through into the dining area. His heart stopped. She was there.



Standing with a glass of champagne in her hand was a slim, chestnut haired beauty. Her back was to him as she looked out of the window and his gaze lingered on her red, satin dress, it’s scooped back skimming the top of her hips and hanging softly over her rounded buttocks. Her hair was pinned on her head to one side, revealing a slim and graceful neck. Severus could just make out the side of her face, her smooth peachy skin and her soft mouth as she went to sip her champagne. Severus’s mouth went dry. Gods, she was beautiful. Part of him wanted to turn and walk away. She would be so shocked to see what Valentine had matched her with. But instead he found courage he would have attributed more to a Gryffindor and stepped towards her.



‘Good evening, ‘ he murmured.



Hermione turned and smiled at him widely.



‘Hello, Severus,’ she said softly.







******





OOOOHHH!!!! Didn\'t see that coming... LMAO!!! Questions questions.... ho hum...