A Meeting of More than Minds

DISCLAIMER: Guess what – I’m not JKR and these characters are not mine.

Many had expected that the war against Voldemort would have been over by the time Harry Potter left Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry had, indeed grown into a formidably strong and potent Wizard but for each year that passed, not only did Harry become more powerful but Voldemort seemed to become more cunning too.

Whereas at school Harry had been directly confronted with Voldemort every year now it was less frequent – although the amount of subtle strikes from Death Eaters increased more than ever – putting an ever increasing onus on the Ministry of Magic and of course on the Order of the Phoenix.

Now two years later Harry was holed up in Grimmauld Place almost permanently. Ron was working surprisingly enough as a Mediwitch at St Mungo’s and Hermione was working in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office with Arthur Weasley. Whilst she was thoroughly bored by her job in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office it at least allowed Hermione free time to devote to the Order.

Her role in the Order was mainly covert, behind the scenes type jobs. As one of Harry Potter’s best friends she couldn’t be exposed to any situations that would leave her liable to capture by Voldemort’s supporters according to Dumbledore. Ron was deemed to be relatively safe living in residences at St Mungo’s, but Hermione having few other options was residing at Grimmauld Place.

It was a busy house, people coming and going at all hours of the day and night, doors slamming, stairs creaking and the kettle never seemed to stop whistling.

Hermione had always been a light sleeper anyway and if she was awoken once the sun had risen she had no chance of getting back to sleep again. At times like this she would busy herself as best she could. Quite often this would be, making meticulous notes from hastily dumped penseives of busy Order members or brewing always needed basic potions such as headache remedy or tracking potions.

One such day Hermione had awoken suddenly by the banging of the front door as it closed. Looking at the clock on her bedside table Hermione groaned slightly as she saw it was just past 4 o’clock in the morning. Lying in bed she listened for more mont int in the house. She could hear none and determined that it had been someone leaving rather than entering the house. Deciding as always that it was not worth lying there fruitlessly trying to get another hour of sleep, she climbed out of bed. Yawning and stretching Hermione decided that a cup offee fee was in order.

She padded down the stairs, avoiding the creaky ones as best she could and walked into the kitchen. It wasn’t until she lit the flame under the kettle with her wand that she became aware she was not alone.

“You are up early.” Came the cool, matter of fact tones of Severus Snape.

Hermione jumped a little at his voice, but instantly recognising it as his, did not feel alarmed and continued preparing her coffee. “I thought someone had gone out, not come in. You must have been creeping about!” she joked.

Hermione was grinning widely as she turned to face him, “How very Slytherin of you Severus!” Her smile froze as she saw his face darken with proverbial thunder.

“Miss Granger, amusing though your immature jokes may be to your childish friends I and the rest of the adult world, find them to be nothing more than irritating.”

Hermione stepped back, her smile gone now and her face clearly displaying the shock she felt inside.

“I…but I…”

“Oh please Miss Granger, enough of the poor attempt at incredulity. Let’s just try to get on with the matters in hand shall we?”

Hermione was utterly bewildered as he billowed away from her. Never had she expected to get any reaction from him – let alone one that was so full of anger and hatred. She had assumed that over time he had at least accepted her as a fellow order member and a human being. It seemed she was wrong and he really did loathe her as much as he had done when she was but an irritating first year at Hogwarts.

Slowly she returned to her task, a small shake of her head the only accompaniment to the feelings of hurt that were henceforth quickly suppressed.

………veraveraveral days had passed without Hermione seeing Snape. Enough time for her to reflect and then dwell on the events and then become insanely angry at him and his bombastic nature. Fortunately it was also enough time for her feelings to subside into a general feeling of resentment, quickly followed by a desire to sort things out.

Therefore, when Snape next returned to Grimmauld Place, Hermione cornered him at the first opportunity. Which just so happened to be in the kitchen again as he was pouring himself a cup of coffee

“Professor Snape,” began Hermione, her tone formal, head held high, gaze levelled at his, “I have come to apologize.”

“How very Gryffindor of you Miss Granger.” Snape replied his voice measured and even and heavily coawithwith sarcasm. “Unfortunately – for you – I do not accept it.”

Hermione looked at him wide eyed and incredulous, clearly and foolishly not anticipating his response. “What?!” she spluttered.

“As you quite rightly pointed out, I am a Slytherin. It would seem unlikely then, that I would have any desire to make you feel better about yourself.” He said acidly.

“That’s not fair…” began Hermione indignantly.

Snape interrupted her with a condescending look and an over emphasised shrug of his shoulders “Life is not fair Miss Granger, as I would have expected an intelligent woman such as you to have worked out by now.”

Hermione opened her mouth and then a second later promptly sit ait again. She repeated the process twice more, her expression angry then surprised and finally puzzled. He’d called her intelligent. And a woman. She was both of course, but to have Snape make any reference to her being other than the derogatory remarks he had made whilst she was at school, was frankly quite shocking.

Snape seemed to think it odd odd too because for a fleeting moment she caught a reflection of her own surprise in his eyes. Quickly though he resumed his usual demeanour although his scowl was more incidental than deliberate now as he waited for her response.

“Anyway” said Hermione desperate to fill the uneasy silence that hung between them. If Snape felt uncomfortable with the silence, he did not show it. Hermione however was acutely embarrassed, ane dee desperately tried to fill it now, “Anyway, erm. I’m…I’m sorry.” She began falteringly.

Snape’s scowl turned to an amused smirk, “So you said Miss Granger.” He intoned simply and then leaning against the counter top he folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at her.

He was baiting her she knew, but she couldn’t stop herself from biting.

“Why do you have to be so bloody obstinate Snape?”

“Not Severus anymore?” he said, his tone silky in it’s portrayal of surprise.

“Look,” Hermione said taking a deep breath to calm herself but still ending up speaking through partially gritted teeth, “We have to work together, we see each other every weekend. Can we not just try to get along?”

“Oh please Miss Granger” said Snape, back to his acerbic self now, “I think you’ll find that we will get along just fine - as long as you keep out of my way that is.”

Hermione stared at him in disbelief, “I can’t believe I thought you were different to this.”

Snape frowned, “Different Miss Granger?”

Hermione huffed and then and scowled at him her face flushing in frustration and anger. “Yes, different. Different as in not the same sadistic bastard that you were in school!”

Snape’s glare grew icy. “Oh, I assure you Miss Granger, I am not sadistic. I don’t enjoy seeing others in pain….I just don’t care.”

Hermione let out a little gasp at his words, and suddenly and uncontrollably her eyes began to brim with tears.

Snape was apparently unmoved by her welling distress, “And that brings us to the point of this” he said, his tone low and dangerous, “Why. Should. You?”
“Fuck you Snape!” Hermione choked out, her voice little more than a strangled whisper as she turned on her heel and hurriedly left the room.

Moments later Snape heard her footsteps clattering up the stairs

Sitting down at the kitchen table he allowed himself a smug smile. Pulling the ink stand and a pile of blank parchment towards him, he settled down to write. As he did though, he found his mind wandering, replaying that little scene with Hermione over again. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, something that made him prickle in discomfort. Pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind he dipped a quill into his ink pot began to write. Only a drop of ink and a hesitant, meaningless line marked the parchment as his mind began to wander again. Now though it wandered further, replaying encounters with her not just from today, or that week, but over the past two years ever since she had left school and begun to work for the Order.

Hermione Granger, irritating know it all, bushy haired annoyance, the bane of his life. She was just the same, only not a student now. Except he realised suddenly, none of those words actually applied to her anymore. Yes her hair was frizzy and untamed at the best of times, but when he thought of it he only envisioned how it framed her pretty face cascaded over slim shoulders almost reaching the valley of her bottom. Snape flushed slightly at the thought of Hermione’s bottom, what it would look like naked, with the very ends of her hair just touching it. And as he pictured this more images crept into his head. Images that he had ignored and pushed aside for some time if truth be told. Images that it seemed his mind had tucked safely away. Out of sight out of mind. Now though the thoughts came unbidden, Snape not quite managing to even try to suppress them. His mind recalled the image of her smiling when she made reference to him being a Slytherin and he felt a little jolt as if the earth had shifted below him. What if she hadn’t been laughing at him? What if that smile he pictured now was smiling at him, not mocking, not discounting him…just smiling at him?

For a long time Severus sat contemplating. Every memory of her was evoked, every word, look, gesture examined, and at the end of it Severus Snape was thoroughly bewildered.

She’d hated him in school; he’d felt it radiate from her every pore. She had expected things of him and been disappointed. He was not a good teacher and he had revelled in hurting her, keeping her in her place. She had tried to respect him he knew that. Truth be told, she had probably achieved that. She saw the good in people. Also then she saw the bad in people. Towards the end of her schooling she had pitied him…and that was the real reason he couldn’t tolerate her. He felt her compassion, saw her forgiveness in her eyes whenever he looked at her. No matter how nasty he had been he couldn’t prevent her pity. Her condescending, patronising, pathetic school girl pity. That was why he hated her, or at least hated her to look at him anyway. He didn’t hate her of course. He hated what she stood for. He hated the fact that despite her intelligence, her lack of propegardgard for the fickle requirements of appearance she would succeed.

Whenever she was in his presence of late she couldn’t look him in the eye, as much a sign of a guilty conscience as her sideways looks when she thought he wasn’t looking were a mark of her disdain of him. She was a bright intelligent thing, young and full of life. But what she had said, the way she had looked at him. What did it mean? Another trick to try to seek revenge on the years of embarrassment she had endured from him? That was not truly a characteristic he expected from Hermione. He had always imagined her anger towards him, expected it and perhaps been glad of it, but she was not vindictive. She was not like him.

Not in that way at least he mused.

Sitting there at the kitchen table he regarded the age worn surface, its cracks and scratches and the patina of decades of wear and dirt and polish.

Some things are older than time.

He didn’t know where that thought came from, but as soon as it appeared it left again, to be replaced with another,

Ask her.

Ask her? Ask her what?

But he knew. He didn’t know exactly what to ask her, what he was going to say of course, but he did know that he had to find out if that silly tiny glimmer of something…(hope? desire?)…at the back of his mind meant anything at all.


……….


He found Hermione in the shed at the rear of Grimmauld Place. It had been adapted to be used as a potion’s lab and she was stood over a simmering cauldron, no doubt brewing the headache potion she was scheduled to.

He stopped a metre or so away from her, knowing she could see him in her periphery.

Slowly she turned to look at him and he noticed she kept her gaze level, her tone detached when she spoke.

“Come to have another go at me Professor Snape? Well, I’m sorry; I don’t think I’m in the mood for that. In fact, as I am no longer your student I don’t actually have to put up with your abject rudeness. So, if you would kindly leave I should like to get on with what I am doing.”

Snape didn’t move.

Hermione stood with her back to him for a long minute, but despite her resolve he could see her shoulders tremble slightly with emotion.

“Miss Granger…Hermione…” he began.

“No!” she cried as she whirled angrily on him, her hair flying about her flushed face. “I’ve had enough…just go will you!”

She didn’t meet his eye but he saw the determined jaw, the injured and defensive look in her eye as she turned quickly back to her cauldron.

Snape looked at her, the smtwintwinge of regret pricking at the back of his mind outweighed by the need for preservation of dignity. He was about to walk away when he noticed how tense she was. He felt a crackle of pressure radiate from her, and saw the tightness in her shoulders. He paused and watched her for a moment, his anxiety growing as she stirred the potion a little too quickly. Soon its contents began to slosh audibly against the walls of the cauldron and Snape saw a spark of orange flame as a drop of the muddy coloured potion hit the flames below.

Quickly now Snape came up behind Hermione, he dared not pull her hand from the potion in case he startled her into spilling the lot on herself, nor could he act on the potion itself – he had not a clue what it was. Instead he placed his hands firmly upon her upper arms and leaned in close to her to stop her jerking away from him suddenly. His plan worked he noted ruefully as Hermione froze at his touch.

Seconds went by as they stood silently still. The potion in the cauldron bubbled thickly and began to froth at the edges as if about to over boil.

Snape muttered quietly and the flames subsided and then flickered out. He could feel Hermione’s body move slightly beneath his hands as she breathed in and out, her breaths harsh and rapid with shock, or fear or some other such emotion.

“I’m sorry” Snape said quietly, “I did not mean to startle you. I was worried about the potion...” he trailed off as Hermione nodded her head slightly.

“Its okay” she whispered, her words barely audible. Pulling away from him she kept her head lowered and he knew then. Right there in that moment it all became painfully clear.

They stood, he looking down at her frowning as realisation washed over him. She avoiding his gaze and staring at her feet as a blush crept over her face.

Hermione could hardly breathe as a slim finger came into contact with the base of her neck and slid slowly up her heated flesh. Her chin was gently hooked and raised until her eyes met his.

“What is going on Miss Granger?” he said quietly, a mixture of menace and becoming in his voice as if he were lulling the unsuspecting into evil clutches.

Hermione’s mouth went dry as she stared at him, losing all sense of time; unable to tear her eyes from his. She shook her head, suddenly becoming aware of the tension and slight discomfort in her neck, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, I think you do, Miss Granger” Snape replied, his voice warm and velvety and entrancing as he released her chin, sliding his thumb slowly down her neck. He smiled as he passed the last few inches of her throat and felt the involuntary swallow. Taking her shoulder in his free hand now he pulled her into him as his thumb moved further down her inflamed skin, pausing where it met the fabric of her robe and then moving upward, tracing the hem of its neckline.

Hermione let out a tiny cry and Snape’s eyes searched hers. Her lips parted unconsciously as he dipped his head to hers. Capturing her lips with his he kissed her, softly at first their lips met, smoothed across each other fleetingly, touching and rubbing gently. She heard a low groan emanate from Snape and her own arousal inflamed her further. Turning in his arms she pressed her body against his and deepened the kiss. Lips parted and tongues entwined as Hermione’s hands began to tentatively explore Snape’s torso. Small hands worked their way deftly under his cloak, aroundtonstons and layers of clothing, pulling and twisting and loosening until suddenly she found bare skin. She pulled away from him, her face flushed and her eyes glazed.

Snape was staring intently at her, his eyes boring into hers. Hermione swallowed and then licked her lips nervously. Was she doing it wrong?

Suddenly he smiled and before Hermione could react he bent to kiss her deeply again. Now his hands moved over her body and his mouth followed as he pushed aside clothing. “I’ve wanted you for so long Hermione” he muttered as he kissed her clavicle and unzipped the back of her robe.

“Mm?” she murmured back as she helped him slide the offending garment down over her shoulders
“Ye
“Yessss” he hissed as she ran her hands down his torso and down further to run her hands across the bulge in his trousers.

“You hid it…ah…well” she gasped as slid her bra off and took a nipple in his mouth, sucking gently as he rubbed his thumb over the other.

She got no response for a while as Snape sucked and licked and gently bit her nipples, all the while his hands moving across her body, pulling off her robe exploring the skin that he exposed as he went.

As Snape finally ridded her completely of her clothes he pushed her back onto the workbench behind her. Slowly, steadily he stroked down her body, his palm cares her her stomach, fingers sweeping across thighs, lips and tongue following their own path across her hip and down her inner thigh.

When he touched her there, in that most private of places Hermione let out a little cry. Looking up his eyes met hers and he smirked. A warm, knowing smirk; one that meant something other than she was accustomed to from him. She grinned and giggled a little, her head spinning in delight at this much unexpected turn of event.

Her giggle turned to a gasp as she felt his finger push past her wetness and into her. She let out a long sigh and threw her head back as Snape caressed her. She felt herself grow warm and her hips began to move a little in sync with the fingers that thrust in and out of her. Hermione felt him come closer to hpushpush her thighs further apart, push her back onto the bench until she lay flat. Eyes closed, she leaned back on her elbows and caught her lip between her teeth. Moments later she snapped them open as she felt a new wetness against her own. Looking down she saw Snape’s head between her legs, his hair falling over his face and obscuring her vision of the tongue that was apparently responsible for the sudden and intense feeling of pleasure that now washed over her.

“Ohhh” she gasped as his tongue flicked across her clitoris. Back and forth, back and forth before gently sucking and blowing and biting and repeating over and over again randomly, wonderfully. Hermione moved her hand down to Snape and pushed his hair aside so she could see him. He glanced up at her, his nose buried in her curls and she felt, rather than saw him grin. Seconds later she felt his rhythm iase ase and she tightened her grip in his hair as she began to spiral into orgasm. The heat rose in her and she began to feel dizzy, desperately arching her hips, pushing herself further against his fingers and tongue as she held her breath in anticipation. And when her orgasm came her cry of pleasure was long and soft, as she shuddered and clawed her hand in his hair.

Panting she felt him pull away from her and allowed her fingers tip fip from his hair, her hand to fall to her side. She watched him lazily, her pleasure slowing her, hypnotizing her as he shrugged his cloak off and fumbled with his trouser buttons with one hand, all the while continuing to touch her intimately with his other hand still.

When he was ready, as he pulled her hips closer to the edge of the table, Hermione rose up again on her elbows. She watched as he entered her slowly, her eyes flicking from his hardness to his eyes and back again before finally flickering in pleasure as he slid fully into her. They were still for a moment, as he adjusted to her warmth, her to his girth. Then, their eyes met and he began to move inside her. He moved slowly at first, their hips matching a rhythm, fingers entwined, eyes locked. Snape moaned and his mouth twisted into a parody of pain. “Hermione…” he whispered hoarsely bending to kiss her deeply, his hands leaving hers to support her back.

He let out a groan and Hermione wrapped one arm around his neck, using the other to support herself in this half sitting position. Slamming her hips into his she hissed, “Fuck me Severus, fuck me!”

“Ahh…” Snape groaned, “Hermione….” He looked at her imploringly, desperately trying to hold back as he slid into her again and again.

“Please…please…oh…Severus…” Hermione implored, thrusting back at him as she felt her own heat rising again. She knew he was close, but more than anything she wanted this, she wanted him, and the force of their coupling was like a light to her own touch paper.

She felt his strokes lengthen, him almost pulling out of her completely before slamming back into her again. Over and over he thrust into her and Hermione flung back her head, and as she cried out with the force of her second orgasm she felt his cock pause inside her before thrusting again, fast and shallow as he came deep inside of her. With his release he let out a moan as low and guttural as to be animalistic, and as their eyes met again Hermione did indeed see a feral glint in his eye. Snape leant his head against her shoulder as his thrusts slowed, holding her tightly to him he kissed her deeply, his tongue warm and slow and luxurious against hers.

Panting and sweating they regarded each other through their orgasmic haze.

“My back hurts” muttered Hermione eventually with a small sheepish grin.

Snape pulled her up to a sitting position and rubbed it gently as he held her close.

Silence fell upon them and for a while they stayed like that, embracing as their exposed skin cooled. Eventually Snape retrieved his cloak from the floor and wrapped it around Hermione’s nakedness before adjusting his own clothing until he was fully dressed again. Hermione watched in amusement as he did so, realising that whilst she herself had been naked under his gaze she had seen litmoremore than a glance of a nipple and his navel.

Catching her glance and appearing to read her mind Snape spoke quietly as he helped her to her feet and held her closely again, “Perhaps next time it will be somewhere more comfortable, somewhere where I can hang my clothes up.”

Hermione looked incredulously at him and then to the rumpled pile on the floor that was her discarded clothes. She was about to make a sharp retort when she caught the ghost of a smile on Snape’s face.

She stopped in her tracks and smiled up and him, raising her eyebrows in mock disapproval as he did, “Next time?”

They stood like that for a moment or two, her smiling coyly, him with the obligatory raised eyebrow and hint of a smirk. This time though, Hermione detected something different to his custom sneering demeanour. Something quite different indeed.

~fin~