Confessions

Author’s Note: This is an old story that’s been posted elsewhere. I’m thinking of getting back into writing this ship and continuing it if I can make time. Any ideas where you’d like it to go?
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I believe the anti-litigation charm goes here: Hermione, Harry, Snape and all other recognizable things from the Potterverse belong to JK Rowling.
Although the story doesn't depend on it, I think it makes more sense if Voldemort is already out of the picture when this occurs.
HG/SS.
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"Miss Granger! What in Merlin's name is wrong with you?"
Professor Snape finally lost his temper with the precocious 7th year who was his independent study pupil as she knocked over yet another vial, this time of rosemary. He tugged at her arm, causing her to tense up even further as he pulled her away from the cauldron. "Just stop. Your carelessness is going to injure us both.” He cast a stasis charm over the cauldron and turned to her, his mouth twisting contemptuously. “I will finish this potion myself and you can come back tomorrow and begin again."

Hermione sighed as Snape crossed to the cabinet to replace the vial she had spilled. Her independent study had started out so well, but for the last couple of weeks she hadn't been able to concentrate at all.

Snape set the vial on his desk and turned to face her. "You realize this is unacceptable, Miss Granger, do you not?” She nodded and he kept his expression carefully neutral. “For the last week you've gotten clumsier and clumsier. I'm starting to think Mr. Longbottom is tutoring you instead of the other way around."

Frustrated, Hermione snapped, "Professor, I could finish the potion if you would just..." Her voice trailed off. How in the world was she supposed to explain herself?

"Yes, Miss Granger? Are you suggesting that I am somehow responsible for your having no more presence of mind than a first-year Hufflepuff?" Snape's deep voice dripped with sarcasm at her attempt to make an excuse. "Well, by all means, please tell me. What can I do to rid us of your erratic behavior?"

Hermione stared at him a moment, trying to gauge his reaction to what she was going to say. "Just...leave the room and let me do it alone. Please."

Snape incredulously raised a thin black eyebrow at her. "Miss Granger, surely you see that insisting I vacate the premises while you work defeats the purpose of doing an independent research project with me."

"It's going to defeat the purpose anyway if I shake uncontrollably every time I see you!" Hermione moved so that a chair shielded her from her Potions Professor. As much as she dreaded it, she was going to have to explain what was wrong or fail her project.

Severus sighed and sat down behind his desk. He knew his gruff manner intimidated many students, but Miss Granger had always appeared to handle his moodiness well enough. Actually, her words surprised him. He'd believed them to be getting along remarkably well. She'd even laughed occasionally at his sarcastic humor. Once he'd given her sufficiently challenging work, she'd actually stopped being a know-it-all. He had been shocked by how much he was enjoying working with her. Visceral disappointment laced through him and he fought the instinct to strike out against her, willing himself to be polite.
"Miss Granger, I apologize if I have been overly harsh with you. I did not intend to frighten you to the point you could not work properly. I..."
He stopped as Hermione was shaking her head, her hand on her forehead as if some thought pained her. "Professor, you misunderstand me." Snape was taken aback at the unusual quiver in her voice and the nervousness in her eyes as she looked at him. "Being nice to me does not help the situation." His eyes narrowed as he waited for her to continue.

Hermione gathered her courage. 'Gryffindor bravery,' she thought, closing her eyes. She didn't want to see his expression. "I’m not afraid of your temper. It is not fear that makes me tremble when I am alone with you, Professor."

Severus felt the blood still in his veins. 'Good Merlin,' he thought. 'She can't possibly mean...' But the blush creeping over Hermione's throat and face gave her away.

"Oh." Severus exhaled, feeling the strangeness of the situation intensely. "I see."

Hermione opened her eyes but still did not look directly at him. "I promise you that I have tried my best to control this and am incredibly sorry, sir. I have not been weaving childish daydreams about you; I think my body has a mind of its own." Severus felt his face flame like a schoolboy’s at the thought of her body responding to him, and he swore faintly under his breath, grateful the laboratory was overcast with shadows.
A slightly frantic sob escaped her. "I’ve tried so hard to overcome my...reaction...to you. I had no intention of ever burdening you with my silliness." Hermione steeled herself against the humiliation. "I asked Madame Pomfrey for something to make it go away, but her draught was not successful at all. The few times you inadvertently touched me after I took it I swear it made matters worse. It only managed—very temporarily—to keep you from invading my sleep."

'Merlin,' he thought again. 'Dreams? About...me?' He gripped the side of the desk to keep his imagination from exploring that enticing notion in lurid detail. "So Madame Pomfrey is aware...?"

"No, no sir. I would never…” Her voice was desperate, making Severus acutely aware how difficult this was for her. He heard her take a calming breath. “As it is spring, there is an epidemic of hormonal teenage girls. She merely thought that I was pining for Harry. Everyone does for some absurd reason, as if I'm enough of a dolt to think we'd suit." Hermione's tone revealed her frustration at the common assumption. "But this time I saw no usefulness in correcting her."

Stunned at the turn the conversation had taken and surprised at her level-headed rejection of the adored Mr. Potter, some corner of Severus' addled brain thanked Merlin that Madame Pomfrey remained ignorant of this situation. She would have tormented him for months. "There are stronger potions than those available in the infirmary, Miss Granger,” he said, his voice quiet. “You could have asked me from the beginning."

Her head jerked to look at him in surprise. He looked dazed, and she could tell he was actually trying to be helpful. The tension in her face and chest relaxed as she realized he was not going to berate her or throw her out. 'In for a penny, in for a pound,' Hermione thought. She chuckled faintly. "Be glad I lacked the courage to speak to you directly, Professor. A potion was the last thing I was thinking of asking you for." Snape's answering chuckle, deep in his throat, sent a frisson of desire across her shoulders. She realized he was as embarassed as she, and handling it almost the same way. 'See? Well- matched,' her traitorous brain told her.

Severus's brain was betraying him as well. He knew his curiosity about Miss Granger's feelings was inappropriate for a teacher to feel about a pupil. ‘The potion didn't work,' he mused. He had brewed the potion to cure unrequited crushes himself and he knew it had worked on other students. It should have been more than sufficient to put an end to a schoolgirl's interest in a teacher twenty years her senior. The only explanation was barely conceivable.... His blood turned hot as he realized she was not merely exhibiting the hormonal side effects of an adolescent crush, but was fighting a real and forbidden attraction to a man years older and more experienced, with a remarkably acerbic personality and very little patience. No wonder she was so rattled.

He stood and moved around the desk, drawn to her in spite of knowing that proximity would intensify the situation and make them both more uncomfortable. The compulsion to soothe her overcame him. His voice was soft and low, both in response to the intimacy of the conversation and to mask his nervousness. "Miss Granger, you cannot imagine how much your confession has moved me.” Hermione met his eyes for the first time then, and the embarrassment and affection in them stopped him in his tracks. He took a shaky breath. “I am honored that a woman as extraordinary as you would consider me worthy of her attention."

Hermione eyes widened at the compliment. The erotic timbre of his voice made her blood race, and her breathing quickened as he moved even closer to her. "You know that I cannot touch you as you are my student,” he murmurred, and she nodded. “I know that Albus has told you of my..." Severus paused, searching for the right word. "History. You must realize I have extraordinary self-control.” He paused again, watching the reactions play across her face as she adjusted to her professor speaking to her as a man, not as a teacher. “I have never allowed myself to think of you as the beautiful and passionate woman you so obviously are, but at the moment, resisting the desire you have aroused in me is as difficult as any challenge I can ever remember facing." Severus felt a shiver of desire in his spine as Hermione gasped at his words, her eyes closing in unexpected pleasure.

He moved to stand behind her, satisfied to see her clutch at the back of the chair when she felt his breath against the back of her neck. His voice was silky, as tactile as the contact he continued to deny her. "My imagination accosts me with what dreams might have kept you awake, writhing in your bed, longing for my touch." Hermione fought the urge to cry out at the intimacy of his words. She hadn't dared to consider that he might be excited by the knowledge that she wanted him. Heat coursed through her body as his voice wrapped around her. "My memory seeks images of you in my laboratory, reviewing every lapse of concentration, each tremor of those exquisite hands, for some indiciation of what precise thoughts might have distracted you from your work. You shall exact your revenge upon me for your sleeplessness, for there is little doubt that I will lie awake in my bed tonight, tormented by the raging passion you have so surprisingly unleashed." Severus took a shaky breath.

Although he was not touching her, Hermione could sense his closeness and fought to keep herself from pressing against him as his voice again caressed her. "I will brew you a potion, Hermione.” He stopped when a small cry escaped her lips at the sound of her first name.
“Hermione,” he whispered again, and she sobbed slightly, tilting her head toward him and he dug his nails into his palms to keep from reaching out to her. “I will brew you a draught to ensure that you are able to rest and complete your study, although it is likely that by the time it is completed, I will need the potion as much as you do.” She smiled, her eyes still closed. Her saw her inhale through her nose and knew she was aware of his scent. “But because Pomfrey's concoction was not successful, you must decide what kind of potion you wish to take, what outcome you would like to achieve. I can make you despise me..."

Hermione’s eyes floew open and she turned her head so she could see him standing behind her. "No! I could not bear..."

"Shhh." His eyes glinted at her quick and fervent response. "You must not make this decision rashly. I can make you despise me. I can make you utterly apathetic towards me. I can make you feel revulsion at the mere thought of physical contact with me. Or I can give you something temporary, something that will prevent you from dreaming, along with something to dampen your physical response so it does not distract you for the coming weeks, until you are no longer my student. What I cannot do is what the potion you took from the infirmary was intended to do: make you feel only friendship for me. What is between us right now is too strong. I can only tranform the emotions into different ones or make you less aware of them; I cannot change their intensity. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded. Her mind swirled as she realized he was offering her the choice to act on her feelings after her graduation or to be rid of her attraction altogether. Her body throbbed with need for him. "I understand." She breathed deeply to steady herself and turned to face him. "You know precisely the effect your words have had on me, don't you?"

His eyes flashed with the faintest trace of a smile. "Of course I do, Miss Granger.” He let the smile court his lips and she returned it with a wide one of her own, relieved beyond imagination at the change in their relationship. “I must admit, I had never thought to experience so satisfying a merger of Slytherin cunning with Gryffindor honesty. Although," he raised an eyebrow at her again, "perhaps satisfying is not precisely the correct word. Shall we say...stimulating?"

His mild humor broke the remaining tension and she laughed lightly. She smiled up at him, her eyes longing. Wrapping her arms around herself as if to restrict her hands, she pleaded,"I want to touch you desperately." Severus sucked in his breath through clenched teeth, ripping his eyes from her and slamming them shut against the wave of desire.

"Gods, Hermione." Inexperienced as she was, realizing the power she had over him stunned her. "Are you trying to seduce me and get me fired?"

"No!" She couldn't tell if he was joking or beginning to doubt her motives. "I swear it. I'm leaving now. I'm going to bed."

Severus groaned, and she realized that everything was sexually charged between them. 'Dear Merlin. I hope the potion he makes works or we won't last a week,' she thought, stepping back and gathering her things.

"I can give you something to let you sleep tonight," he commented, his back still turned to her.

She smiled to herself. "No." He turned to look at her in slight surprise. "What I am feeling right now is something that I rather want to savor as long as possible, Severus." Her use of his given name provoked another glint of fire in his dark eyes. "Good night."

And she disappeared through the door, leaving him wondering if his imagination could have conjured it all.