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Seven Minutes in Heaven by StormySkize [Reviews - 86]


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A/N: This story was written for the HG/SS Story Exchange on LiveJournal. It was written for Snapedreamer who requested a story in which Hermione had a crush on Snape and Snape used Legilimency to read her mind. She also requested something on the "fluffy" side. Because of this, Snape may be a bit OOC, especially at the end of the story.

Disclaimer: All characters of Potterverse belong to the incomparable J. K. Rowling and sundry others that aren’t me. Only the plot is mine. I write for the sheer joy of playing with such wonderful and diverse characters and settings. The only payments I receive are the comments posted by people who read and enjoy my story.

Special thanks to JuJuJenn, my favourite beta reader and one of my three best friends. She had to explain the game Seven Minutes in Heaven to me. She made many invaluable suggestions, and she is always there to rein me in when the purple prose starts to fly off my keyboard. Thanks, baby.


Seven Minutes in Heaven


Severus Snape was grumbling as he followed Minerva McGonagall out of the castle and towards the Apparition point outside the gates.

“I won’t be welcomed there,” Snape said.

“Nonsense,” Minerva replied.

“I’m a social pariah or have you forgotten? I’m a Death Eater and a traitor. I pull the wings off flies and kick puppies every morning before breakfast. I killed Albus Dumbledore, the most beloved wizard in the whole world.”

“You’re no more a traitor than I am, Severus Snape,” Minerva said turning to face the taller wizard. “You were a counterintelligence agent for the Order of the Phoenix, forced to pose as a Death Eater.

“Albus was dying, slowly and painfully, and he knew it. He saw an opportunity for his death to make a difference in the fight against the Dark Lord. Albus trusted you – and only you – to help him make that difference. I know how difficult it was for you to do what had to be done.”

“You’re the only one, then,” Snape said.

“That’s not true. You were absolved of any charges of wrong-doing by the Wizengamot.”

“That doesn’t stop the rumour and the innuendo, though, does it?” Snape asked scornfully.

“Since when have you ever cared what other people thought or said about you?” Minerva challenged him.

“Has it ever occurred to you that even I get tired of the whispers and the pointing fingers?” he asked in a weary tone.

“If you won’t stand up to the gossip-mongers, Severus, you’ll be hiding away in your dungeons for the rest of your life! I refuse to watch that happen,” she insisted.

“This is absurd, Minerva! I’m forty-five years old. I don’t go to children’s birthday parties!”

“You do when you lose a bet to me, Severus,” Minerva said. “You entered into the wager knowing full well what the consequences would be were you to lose. You’ve lost and now it’s time to pay the piper.”

“I’ll gladly ‘pay the piper,’” Snape snarled. “How much will it cost me to buy my way out of this charade?”

“Oh, I doubt we’ll be playing Charades,” the older woman said.

They arrived at the Apparition point, and Snape made one more appeal to McGonagall’s better nature.

“Fifty Galleons?” he asked.

“Very tempting,” Minerva said, “but watching you play Pin the Horn on the Unicorn is worth much more to me than fifty Galleons.”

“You’ll pay for this indignity, Minerva,” Snape said as he prepared to Apparate.

“That’s what you always say.”

With two soft pops, they were gone.


When they arrived at Harry’s house on Grimmauld Place, Minerva laid a hand on Snape’s arm.

“Remember, Severus, you have to wish Harry a happy birthday, you have to be reasonably polite to the other guests, and you have to participate in at least three of the party games.”

“Am I allowed to get drunk first?” he sneered.

“You can have all the Firewhisky you want. In spite of the fact that you think of them as children, all the guests here tonight are adults. I doubt that pumpkin juice will be the drink of choice. After all, Harry is twenty-five now, and the Dark Lord has been dead for five years. It’s a double celebration.”

“Oh, I’m just bubbling over with joy,” Snape said with a deep scowl on his face.


An hour later, he had made the rounds through the throngs of people crowding the living and sitting rooms of the old Black house. He had felt Minerva’s eyes on him as he drifted from one group of people to another. He exchanged greetings with Remus Lupin and Mad-eye Moody, among others. He endured a kiss on the cheek from Nymphadora Tonks and Molly Weasley. He shook Potter’s hand and wished him a happy birthday, though the words nearly stuck in his throat. He’d even nodded a greeting to Longbottom. Now, he was standing in a relatively quiet corner, pretending to listen as Arthur Weasley regaled him with tales of every smile, burp, and fart his newest grandchild had managed to produce in his first three months of life.

“Excuse me,” Snape said to Arthur, keeping in mind the terms of the wager. He had to be reasonably polite to the guests. He doubted that telling the new Minister of Magic to go bugger himself would qualify as polite.

The Firewhisky was starting to have its desired effect, however; he was beginning to feel a bit muzzy-headed.

Two or three more drinks and I’ll be ready for the party games, he thought as he drained the last of the glass containing his third drink and set off toward the bar to order a fourth. As he moved away from the bar, he noticed that Arthur now had Hagrid’s ear. He was quite content to leave the two of them alone and find another corner in which to attempt to blend into the background.


“Attention! Attention, everyone!” Harry’s voice rose above the general babble in the room. Gradually the hubbub died down, and everyone turned toward Harry to hear what he had to say.

“First off, I want to thank everyone for coming to my party. This is the first real birthday party I’ve ever had, and I really appreciate it.”

There was much cheering and applause at this comment.

“Second, I’ve been told that as the guest of honour it’s up to me to get the festivities going. I thought we’d start with a nice game of Pin the Horn on the Unicorn.”

There were a few groans at that, but Harry held up a hand. “I know it’s kind of a kids’ game, but I never got to play it when I was kid. And, since it is my birthday, I hope you’ll all indulge me.”

It was decided to play in rounds. The guests were divided into two groups. The group that got the greatest number of unicorn horns positioned, more or less, in the right place would win the first round. That group would then be divided again, and so on until only two people were left. They would go, ‘horn to horn’ to determine the winner. Snape was only too pleased to be counted among the group that lost in the first round. He’d acquitted himself rather well, considering the amount of alcohol he’d consumed, by pinning the horn on the unicorn’s bottom lip. Others in his group, notably Hagrid, who’d pinned the horn somewhere in the vicinity of the unicorn’s hind end, hadn’t come anywhere as close as he had, which explained why they’d lost.

He went and got himself another drink as the winning group split again to continue the contest. He was a bit surprised to see Hermione Granger end up the ultimate winner in the game. He was standing nearby when he heard her explaining to Remus Lupin that her Arithmancy skills accounted for her ability to be able to so accurately place the horn in the right spot, even when blindfolded.

And half-hammered, Snape noted to himself as he observed Granger downing a large glass of Firewhisky. Not that I’m in a position to judge. The Firewhisky is the only thing keeping this travesty tolerable.

The next game the group played was Musical Chairs. Without being too obvious about it, Snape was able to eliminate himself pretty early on.

Although her Arithmancy skills were formidable, Miss Granger’s musical skills were sadly lacking. She was eliminated very soon after he was. She sidled up next to him at the bar that had been set up in the corner and ordered another Firewhisky.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Professor Snape?” she asked.

“No,” he replied.

“I was rather surprised to see you here,” she said. “In spite of the work that you and Harry did together to defeat the Dark Lord, you two have never gotten on.”

“You have a talent for understatement, Miss Granger,” Snape said with a sardonic twist to his lip.

“Why did you even bother to come, then?” she enquired.

“I lost a bet,” Snape replied baldly.

“You should know better than to bet against Minerva,” Hermione replied with a soft chuckle. She picked up her drink and took a long sip.

“How do you know it was to Minerva?” Snape asked, his curiosity aroused.

“I’ve lost my share of bets to her since I left Hogwarts,” Hermione replied. “That woman will bet on anything, and I swear she sweetens her tea with Felix Felicis. She’s the damn luckiest witch I’ve ever met.”

“I’ve been losing to her for more than twenty years,” Snape said with a scowl. “I’ve never considered she may be cheating.”

“I was just whinging, Professor. I’m sure she doesn’t cheat,” Hermione said. She took another sip of her drink, and turned to look at how the game of Musical Chairs was progressing.

Snape, glancing sideways through narrowed eyes, couldn’t help but notice how well put-together Miss Granger looked tonight. Her usually-bushy brown hair had been pulled back in a neat-looking chignon that rested on the nape of her neck, although a few stray tendrils framed her face quite fetchingly. Her robes, in a deep amber-bronze colour, were flattering to both her figure and her colouring.

“Oh, look,” Hermione said, pointing with her glass towards the centre of the large parlour. “Hagrid has won the game of Musical Chairs.”

“Probably because no one wants to try to wrestle a chair away from him,” Snape said as he sipped at his own drink.

Hermione laughed. “You could be right.”

Harry next announced a game of Push the Peanut. Snape decided that nothing, not even Minerva’s wrath, was worth the indignity of getting down on his hands and knees and pushing a peanut across the floor with his nose. He ordered another drink instead. He noted that Miss Granger also skipped this game and remained standing next to him at the bar. He ordered another Firewhisky and handed it to her.

“Oh, thanks,” Hermione said. They continued to stand in what Snape considered to be a rather companionable silence, sipping their drinks, watching the progress of the game, and making only occasional comments.

“Weasley won this one,” Snape commented, mostly just to see how Miss Granger would react. If he recalled correctly, they’d had some kind of romantic relationship.

“Ron’s had lots of practice putting his nose where it doesn’t belong,” Hermione replied with a soft snort.

Snape made no comment.


The next game was called Pass the Potato. Again, Snape couldn’t imagine participating in a game that required one to hold a potato under one’s chin and then move it into position under someone else’s chin without using one’s hands. He continued to lean against the edge of the bar. By now, he’d had two additional glasses of Firewhisky and was teetering quite close to the edge of complete inebriation. Miss Granger had matched him drink for drink, and Snape had to grudgingly admire her capacity.

Then she started giggling, a sound that would normally have set his teeth on edge. Tonight, however, the alcohol seemed to have decreased his noise sensitivity. He looked to where she was pointing and almost…almost…giggled himself.

Nymphadora Tonks, all five feet, three inches of her, was trying to pass the potato tucked under her chin to Hagrid. The problem was that Hagrid’s chin was about two feet over her head. It seemed more likely that the potato would end up wedged into his navel. Finally, it occurred to Hagrid that he might have better luck if he knelt down. This brought the two of them closer in relative height, and might have solved the problem had Tonks been able to push the potato through, under, or inside of Hagrid’s large, bushy and somewhat unkempt beard. After a few more attempts at burrowing around, Tonks spit out a mouthful of beard and gave up.

This left Remus Lupin and Ginny Weasley as the game’s winners.

After the whistles and cat calls died down, Harry once again asked for everyone’s attention.

“This last game we’re going to play is called Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

There were more whistles and much stamping of feet, most notably from George and Fred.

Hermione just groaned.

“I’ve never heard of that game,” Snape said. “Do you know what it entails, Miss Granger?”

“Yes,” she said, but made no effort to explain. Instead, Snape noted, she shot daggers at the Weasley prat.

“Since this is, thankfully, the last game of the evening, I am required to play,” Snape said.

“Terms of the bet with Minerva?” Hermione asked, turning back to look at him.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Snape replied. “I am required to participate in three party games. This will be my third and when it’s over, I will have fulfilled all the terms of the bet, and I will be free to leave.” He quickly downed another Firewhisky.

“I see,” Hermione said.

“You said you are familiar with the game. How is it played?”

“It’s just a silly Muggle game, usually played by adolescents. Two people are required to spend seven minutes alone together in a closet, or a closed room – really any place private.”

“That’s it?” Snape asked.

“Well, sometimes the couples are required to perform some harmless little task, like exchange an article of clothing, or tell each other a knock-knock joke, or some such thing.”

“That doesn’t seem too onerous, though I don’t know any knock-knock jokes,” he said seriously.

“I can teach you one, if you’d like. They’re quite simple.”

“I know the format,” Snape explained. “I meant I don’t know any in particular.”

“Can you yodel?” Hermione asked.

“Excuse me?” Snape was sure he must have misunderstood. What did yodelling have to do with knock-knock jokes?

“Can you yodel?” Hermione repeated. “It’s a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question, Professor.”

“In that case then, the answer is, ‘no.’”

“Knock-knock,” Hermione said.

“Who’s there?” Snape replied.

“Little old lady.”

“Little old lady who?”

“I thought you told me you couldn’t yodel,” Hermione said, and then she laughed.

It took Snape a moment to process the words, but then he chuckled.

“Are all knock-knock jokes so silly?” he asked.

“Actually, most of them are a lot sillier than that,” she replied.

“How are the couples for the game determined?” Snape wanted to know.

“It depends. Sometimes the host of the party will pair people off. Sometimes you draw lots or cut cards. I’m not sure how it’ll happen here, but it looks like we’re about to find out,” Hermione said as she nodded towards Harry.

Harry and Ron had been talking together. Harry was shaking his head, and Ron seemed to be trying to make some point or another. Finally, Harry shrugged his shoulders and then nodded.

Ron grinned and drew out his wand.

“Okay…we’re ready to start,” Harry said. “I’m sure all of you know how the game is played, and if you don’t, it’s quite simple. Two people are sent off to spend seven minutes alone. Ron’s been kind enough to charm the small sitting room over there,” he waved towards a closed door right off the parlour, “to lock itself when the couple enters, and to not open until the seven minutes are up.”

Snape grimaced a bit, but in reality, he wasn’t displeased that he had foresworn the other two games in favour of this one. Being locked in a room with Nymphadora or Minerva wouldn’t be his favourite way to pass seven minutes, but at least his dignity would be preserved. A large glass of Firewhisky would make the time pass even quicker. He ordered a double to be served as soon as his name was announced.

Hermione was also instructing the barkeep to serve her a double as soon as her name was called. “And I’ll have a double now to tide me over until then,” she said. She took the proffered glass and took a long swallow.

“At that rate, Miss Granger, you’ll be too drunk to participate,” Snape warned.

“I can’t be drunk enough,” Hermione countered. “If I passed out right now, Ron would still find a way to get me into that room.”

“You think this ‘game’ was his idea, then?” Snape asked.

“I’m sure of it. He can’t seem to understand that I’m not interested in him anymore.”

Snape digested this information for a moment.

“Have you told him this?” Snape asked.

“Several times,” Hermione assured him. “I even told him I was interested in someone else. He refuses to be discouraged.”

Before Snape could comment further, Harry once again called for everyone’s attention.

“Okay, folks, we’re ready to start. Would everyone please just stand still, or sit still, wherever you are at this moment.”

Anyone who was moving about the room stopped.

“We’ve decided that the best way to pair people off is simply to have each person go into the room with the nearest member of the opposite sex. For instance, I’m standing closest to Ginny, so she and I will be paired off. Remus is closest to Tonks, and so on.”

Snape looked around the room. Arthur and Molly Weasley were sitting side by side on a small sofa. Fred and George were standing near the Patil twins. Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher were sitting in arm chairs that had been pulled in front of the fire. All in all, it looked like those who were already couples would be paired off.

The notable exceptions were Minerva and Hagrid, who had both happened to approach the buffet table at the same time, and, of course, he and Miss Granger.

As far as he was concerned, being paired with Hermione Granger wasn’t the worst fate that could have befallen him.

“Is everyone agreed to this arrangement?” Harry asked. “Once you agree, there’s no changing your mind.” He smiled as he said that. “And if you don’t agree, Ron and I will pick a partner for you.”

Snape expected Miss Granger to object to being paired off with him. He suspected that Weasley expected her to object as well. Or perhaps the prat was expecting that Snape would object to being paired off with her. Either way, Weasley was looking quite smug.

Hermione turned to Snape and arched a brow at him.

Snape shrugged and then nodded, almost imperceptibly.

There were no dissenting voices.

“Brilliant,” said Harry.

Snape laughed to himself as he watched Weasley’s face fall. There was now little doubt that the berk would have paired himself off with the witch standing next to him.

Harry then held up a small glass bowl that held several slips of folded parchment.

“As you enter the room, each couple will draw one of these slips,” he said. “In addition to the seven minute time restriction, the couple must complete the instructions on the slip before the room will release them. It could be a long night for some of you!”

Everyone laughed at that.

“We’ll start with the couple nearest the charmed room and work our way out to the furthest corner.”

Snape looked around. It appeared that he and Miss Granger would be the last couple to enter the room.

“Remus and Tonks are first,” Harry said.

Remus reached into the bowl and drew a slip of parchment out. He unfolded it, read it, and then showed it to Tonks. She smiled.

“Do I read it out loud?” Remus asked.

Harry and Ron conferred for a moment. Then Harry spoke. “No. Just do what it says, and then you’ll read it when you come out.”

Remus nodded, and he and Tonks ducked into the designated room.

A large hourglass appeared on a small table in front of the door, and the sand started trickling through.

Seven minutes later, the hourglass disappeared, and the door to the sitting room swung open.

Remus stepped out, carrying his shoes, socks, and jacket. Tonks followed him out. She was carrying her sandals, the scarf she’d been wearing as a belt, and a pair of frilly lace knickers.

There were whistles and cheers.

“Go on and read the slip,” Harry said.

Remus cleared his throat. “Remove three articles of clothing. Things that normally come in pairs, such as shoes, count as only one article. Explain your choices.

“Well, I guess shoes and socks are obvious,” Remus said. “And once Nymphadora removed her knickers, I found it was getting rather warm in there, so I no longer needed my jacket, either.”

“All I can say,” Tonks said with a grin, “is that I’m glad I was wearing a belt, or I’d’ve come out of the room starkers. I wasn’t wearing anything under this dress except my knickers.” She held up the scrap of lace and waved it.

Fred and George hooted with laughter. Hagrid guffawed. Arthur blushed. Snape just smirked.

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, you’re next,” Harry said.

Molly reached into the bowl and pulled out a slip. She read it and showed it to her husband, and then the two of them went into the room. The door closed, and the hourglass appeared again. When they came out, Molly read the slip of paper.

“Give each other a three minute back massage. Clothing is optional.”

Arthur blushed again. Molly grinned. The twins made gagging noises.

And so it continued. Couples went into the room, and couples came out seven minutes later. Some were blushing, some were giggling, but no one seemed to find the various tasks too unpleasant. The tasks themselves were relatively innocuous. The removal of three articles of clothing repeated itself. Tell each other a childhood secret showed up twice as well. Snape noticed that Hermione had been correct about at least two of the tasks; George and Parvati came out of the room wearing each other’s shoes, and Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom were both giggling when they repeated their knock-knock jokes. The most personal task was to give each other three kisses; it was also the most frequently repeated task.

Hagrid and Minerva got that one. When they emerged from the room, Hagrid had lipstick prints on his forehead and on the back of each hand. The choice of where to place the required three kisses appeared to be at the discretion of the couple. Fred and Padma emerged looking a bit dishevelled. If there were lipstick prints anywhere, they weren’t in evidence, and no one was indiscreet enough to ask to see them.

Finally, Hermione and Snape were the last couple. They each picked up a glass of Firewhisky and approached Harry to get their instructions. Hermione noticed Ron muttering over the bowl that held the parchment slips.

She reached in and realised that only one slip remained. She pulled it out, unfolded the paper, read it, and then shot Ron a murderous glare. He glared back at her.

She lifted her chin defiantly, and then grabbed Snape’s hand and pulled him into the room without showing him what was written on the paper.

As the door closed behind them, Hermione dropped Snape’s hand, and then lifted her glass to her lips. She chugged back the entire drink and then threw the glass against the fireplace, where it shattered spectacularly.

Then she groaned. “I’m going to kill Ron for this.”

“How bad can it be?” Snape asked. “It appears you’re wearing more clothes than Nymphadora was, and I certainly wouldn’t embarrass myself were I to remove three articles of clothing.”

“Wrong task,” Hermione said.

“When I was a child, I was afraid of the dark. What’s your secret?” he asked.

“I had a pacifier until I was five. That’s why I had an overbite,” Hermione said with a smile. “However, that’s not the task either.”

Snape put his glass down. He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, using his thumbs to work at a large knot of muscles between her shoulder blades. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind a short back rub, either,” he said.

“If you ever want to leave off teaching at Hogwarts, you could open a massage parlour,” Hermione said as she leaned back into Snape’s strong hands and moaned softly. “That feels incredible.”

She enjoyed his touch for a few more moments and then moved away. “Too bad that’s not the task, either.”

“Knock-knock?” Snape said hopefully.

“Not even close.”

Snape scowled. “Our task is the kisses, isn’t it?” he asked.

“In spades,” Hermione confirmed.

“What do you mean?” Snape said. There was a suspicious glint in his eyes.

The liquor had finally hit Hermione. She was swaying a bit on her feet, and her eyes were slightly glazed.

“Fuck Ron Weasley,” she muttered.

“No, thank you, Miss Granger,” Snape said with a smirk. “I don’t know Weasley’s sexual orientation, but I am strictly heterosexual. And if I understand your disagreement with him, your fucking him would be exactly what he’s angling for.”

“The bastard knows how I feel,” she said. Her words were starting to slur a little. “He added that last line on purpose, the bloody arsehole!”

“Let me see that,” Snape said, holding out his hand.

Hermione shook her head. “He knows how I feel,” she repeated.

Snape scowled and pulled the piece of parchment from Hermione’s grasp. His scowl deepened as he read:

“Give each other three kisses, for a total of six kisses.”

There was a space, and then another line appeared under the first.

“All kisses must be on the lips. Open mouths are mandatory, as are tongues.”

“None of the other couples had this proviso,” Snape said with a snarl.

“Oh, well spotted, Professor,” Hermione snarled back. “I told you that Ron added that last line to the task.”

“So, Weasley thinks that by forcing you to kiss me, you will better appreciate his kisses?”

“Not exactly,” Hermione mumbled.

“Then what, exactly, did he hope to accomplish?” Snape demanded.

“He knows how I feel about you. He’s forcing me because he knows I’ll be embarrassed,” Hermione said.

Snape knew that most of his students hated him. He didn’t particularly care. But he also knew that Miss Granger had defended him to Potter and Weasley on more than one occasion.

He and she had even worked together over the past several years on improvements to the Wolfsbane Potion, among other projects. She’d always treated him with respect. At the very least, she’d been polite, oft times more polite than he’d been to her.

He was surprised to discover that the knowledge that she disliked him to that extent actually bothered him.

“Is the prospect of kissing me that repugnant?” Snape said. “I didn’t realise you hated me that much, Miss Granger.”

“I don’t hate you at all,” Hermione said.

Then she clapped her hands over her mouth. “Shit! Me and my big mouth,” she muttered.

“You don’t hate me?” Snape asked.

“Is our seven minutes up yet?” Hermione asked, rattling the door knob.

“You know we won’t be allowed to leave the room until we fulfil the conditions of the task,” Snape said.

“You’re a very powerful wizard,” Hermione said, turning to face him. “Surely you can break whatever spell a pathetic wizard like Ron Weasley has placed on the door!”

“Given enough time, I might be able to. It seems easier to just perform the task,” he said, approaching Hermione as she leaned back against the door.

“I can’t,” Hermione said, pushing away from the door.

“Are you going to drink this?” she asked picking up his half-empty glass from the table where he’d placed it.

“No,” he said. Then he reached over and plucked the glass from her hand. “And neither are you. You’ve had quite enough to drink.”

“I haven’t had nearly enough,” she said under her breath. “Not if I’m going to kiss you.”

“You said you didn’t hate me,” Snape reminded her.

“I don’t,” Hermione agreed. And then she blushed.

“How old are you, Miss Granger?” Snape asked. “You must be around Potter’s age as you and he were in the same class.”

“I’m a bit older than he is, actually. I’ll be twenty-six in September.”

“In all your twenty-six years, haven’t you ever kissed someone you didn’t particularly like, or weren’t especially attracted to?” he asked.

“I kept kissing Ron for a long time after he lost his attraction,” she said with a frown.

“Then I fail to understand why you won’t simply kiss me so that we can get out of here!” Snape said sharply.

“Maybe because I know you don’t want to kiss me!” Hermione shouted.

“The prospect of kissing you is not without its appeal, though I’ll admit I’d not seriously considered it before now,” Snape said.

“Well, I have,” she said and then clapped her hands over her mouth again.

Only Snape’s many years as a spy and the necessity of having to hide his reactions, no matter what, kept his mouth from dropping open.

He pulled his wand from his sleeve. He pointed it at Hermione and looked her in the eye.

Legilimens,” he said in a soft voice.

He slipped into her mind easily. He was startled by what he discovered. It seemed that Miss Granger was harbouring a tendre for him, and she had been for a number of years. In a moment of regrettable honesty, she had confessed her feelings to the Weasley prat.

Snape pulled back from her mind and broke eye contact.

“I had no idea…” he began.

“You had no right to pry into my mind!” Hermione shouted at him.

“I could apologise, but I wouldn’t mean it, so why bother?” Snape said.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“Why have you never said anything to me about your…feelings?” Snape asked.

“Why would I give you such a weapon over me?” Hermione retorted.

“You believe I would use such knowledge to hurt or humiliate you?”

“Wouldn’t you? That’s what Ron’s been doing for years!”

“I am not Weasley!” Snape nearly shouted.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Hermione shouted back.

Snape drew a deep breath to calm himself down before he spoke again.

“How has Weasley used this knowledge against you?” Snape wanted to know.

“He didn’t understand that I couldn’t have just a physical relationship with him. I needed more than a quick shag and a pat on the arse.”

“I understand your dilemma completely.” Snape responded. “While the idea of a sexual encounter is appealing, there should be more to a relationship; things like common interests, shared experiences, and good conversation.”

“That’s what I told Ron. And that’s how we ended up in this mess.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Ron and I dated during our seventh year and for part of the year after that, during the war. He was always dragging me off to ‘be alone.’” Hermione was blushing again.

“He wanted to have sex with you,” Snape supplied.

“Yes! The shagging was okay, though I’m sure he got more out of it than I did. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, just…”

“Unsatisfying?” Snape supplied.

“Completely. I might have been able to tolerate that if there’d been anything else between us, but there wasn’t. I tried to tell him that I needed someone I could talk to. I told him I could never have any kind of permanent relationship if it was based solely on sex.”

“Weasley was not a conversationalist, I gather,” Snape said in his driest tone.

“The only thing Ron ever wanted to talk about was sex and Quidditch,” Hermione said. “Or, rather, Quidditch and sex. The things that interested me didn’t even make his list.”

“We’ve had a number of conversations over the past five years,” Snape said. “I don’t recall that any of them were about sex or Quidditch.”

“I tried to explain my needs to him, but he just didn’t understand.”

“Your needs were apparently not very important to him. Is that why you broke it off?”

“Well, that, and finding him shagging Lavender Brown,” Hermione said.

“He was cheating on you?”

“He said she ‘caught him unawares,’ but it seemed to me he was rather involved for someone caught ‘unawares.’”

“I can understand why you’d not want to be further involved with him,” Snape said. “He was apparently a lousy lover, he had no interests outside of Quidditch and the aforementioned lousy sex, and he was a lousy lover who was unfaithful to the woman he claimed to love. It’s no surprise you were upset.”

“I wasn’t actually as upset as I pretended to be. I…I knew I didn’t love him. I mean, I loved him as a friend, but I didn’t love him the way a woman is supposed to love a man. He wanted us to get back together, but I wouldn’t let him near me.”

“But he pursued you anyway?”

“He never stopped panting after me, right up till the night before the Final Battle. By then, I’d had all I could stand. That’s when I told him that I cared for someone else. He asked me who it was. He kept after me and after me. I finally told him it was you.”

“He didn’t take that news well, I’m sure.”

“He…he thought that we’d already…well…actually I led him to believe that we’d already….”

“Why would you want him to believe that?” Snape asked.

“So he’d leave me alone!” she cried out. “Things have never been right between us since then. Especially since...”

“Yes?” he prompted.

“Well…since there’s never been any indication of any kind of relationship between you and me, he thinks I was lying to him.”

“Weren’t you?” Snape scoffed.

“I gave him a wrong impression about our physical relationship. I admit that. But, I wasn’t lying about my feelings for you. And I never told him that you returned my feelings, he just assumed that.”

“So, Weasley arranged for you and me to be stuck here in this room. He thought that forcing you to kiss me would humiliate you because he believed you’d been lying to him about a relationship between us.”

She hung her head. “Yes, and I’m sorry, Professor Snape. You’ve been drawn into a fight that doesn’t concern you.”

“Yes, well…it certainly isn’t the first time.”

They stood for a few minutes, not speaking, each thinking about what had been revealed.

Finally, Hermione broke the silence.

“I apologise if this knowledge makes you uncomfortable. I would never have burdened you with my feelings if Ron hadn’t forced us together.”

“I’m not uncomfortable with the knowledge, Miss Granger. I’m merely surprised. You’ve done a good job of hiding your attraction.”

“I knew that if you discovered my feelings, you would endeavour to keep your distance from me. You might have even refused to work with me anymore. I…I couldn’t have borne that. I have truly enjoyed working with you. I have especially enjoyed the occasional conversations we had about things other than Potions. I took what I could get,” she said. “That’s why I’m going to hex Ron into next week! He’s forced this out into the open, and now you’ll never want to work with me again.”

“Why are you so sure I would have rejected any overtures you might have made?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t you have?”

Snape pondered his answer for a moment.

“In the past, before the fall of the Dark Lord, I admit that I might have been insensitive to your emotions. I walked a very difficult path back then. I never allowed myself to believe, or even hope, that someday I would be able to have a normal relationship with a witch. My position was such that anyone close to me would have been in as much danger as I myself was. Therefore, I kept everyone at arm’s length.

“Once the Dark Lord was gone, and my position in the Order was revealed, I discovered that I had done too good a job of keeping everyone away, and there was no one who would have considered becoming close to me.”

“I would have.” Hermione spoke in a quiet tone. She lowered her head as though preparing for a physical blow.

“Miss Granger,” Snape said. He reached out and put his finger under her chin, lifting her head so that he could see her face; and, more importantly, so that she could see his.

“Miss Granger…Hermione…I am flattered by this revelation.”

“You are?” Hermione looked astounded.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You’re a very powerful witch. You have a brilliant mind. You’re well-read and articulate. You’re lovely to look upon…”

Hermione blinked a couple of times. “You think I’m…I’m lovely?”

“Has no one ever told you so?” Snape asked.

Hermione just shook her head.

“Not even Weasley, who professes to love you?” Snape asked with a sneer.

“He just said I had nice tits.”

Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth, yet again, and a bright pink blush filled her face with colour.

Snape chuckled. “I’m not a bit surprised he couldn’t see beyond your chest.”

“Oh, he saw beyond my chest,” Hermione said with a touch of sarcasm, “but he wasn’t looking to my ‘brilliant mind.’”

“I’m sure he wasn’t,” Snape said.

“I can’t believe I’m discussing this with you,” Hermione said.

“Well, alcohol does tend to loosen one’s inhibitions…”

“And one’s tongue,” Hermione added.

“To be sure. That is why I seldom drink. My life has often depended on my ability to keep my wits about me,” he explained. “Tonight, however, I made an exception.”

“I know you may find this hard to believe, considering the amount of alcohol I’ve imbibed tonight, but I usually don’t drink much at all,” Hermione said.

“I did notice that you seemed to be over-indulging a bit. I needed to fortify myself to get through the ordeal of being ‘nice’ to Potter. What’s your excuse?”

“I needed to fortify myself to get through the ordeal of being in the same room with Ron. I knew he was still angry with me. I didn’t expect him to carry things this far, though.”

“He has been angry with you since before the Final Battle?” Snape asked.

“Yes.”

There was another short period of silence, and then Snape spoke again.

“How long have you had these…feelings for me?” he wanted to know.

“Since the end of my fifth year. I think it was just sort of a crush back then. You were the spy, the dashing double agent…”

Snape gave a snort. “Oh, please. I have never been dashing.”

“I was sixteen. Believe me, I thought you were dashing.” She smiled, then continued speaking.

“Ron and I sort of danced around our feeling all through sixth year. He was a bit more enthusiastic than I was, though. We went out all through seventh year, and part of the next year as well. I tried to get past my feelings for you, but I never really did. Ron just kept pushing me and pushing me, though. He nearly drove me mad!

“Then the war ended. Voldemort was dead, and you didn’t have to hide anymore. When we started working together on the Wolfsbane Potion, all the feelings I’d tried to get past came back. They were stronger this time, though, and I knew it wasn’t just a schoolgirl crush. I came to know you in a different way. You weren’t my teacher anymore; we were almost equals,” she said.

“You’re as talented at Potions as you are at Arithmancy or Charms. I may not have said it, but I wouldn’t have worked with you had I not considered you my equal,” Snape assured her.

“I appreciate knowing that, sir,” Hermione replied.

“As equals, perhaps you would care to address me by my given name?”

“You want me to call you Severus?” Hermione asked.

“That is my given name, though there have been times I’ve wished my parents had given it to someone else,” Snape said wryly.

Hermione laughed. “I know what you mean…Severus.”

“That wasn’t so difficult, was it, Hermione?”

“Oh, Merlin, I hope I’ve not fallen into a drunken stupor and am dreaming this,” Hermione said as she sat on the edge of a small settee and dropped her head into her hands.

Snape sat beside her on the settee and took her hand in his.

“I assure you, Hermione, you are quite awake. I doubt that you’re even very drunk anymore. We have been in here for quite some time.”

“How long, do you think?” Hermione asked.

“Nearly an hour, I’d guess,” Snape replied.

“I wonder how long they’ll leave us in here before they come to check on us,” Hermione remarked.

“We could complete the task and simply walk out the door,” Snape suggested.

“I…I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of kissing you,” Hermione said. “I’ve dreamed about it. I’ve even fantasised about it.”

Apparently there was still some alcohol in her system – she would never have had the courage to tell him these things if there weren’t.

“Then I fail to understand your reticence now,” he said.

“I don’t want you to kiss me because you have to! I want you to kiss me because you want to.” She was blushing again.

Snape was starting to find her blushes quite appealing.

Snape lifted Hermione’s hand to his lips and brushed a soft kiss across the back of it.

“I wouldn’t have dared to dream that you would welcome my kisses, Hermione,” he said in a quiet tone.

“I would have, but not because of some stupid game!” she cried.

“The game may be the catalyst,” he said, “but be assured that were I not amenable, nothing short of the Imperius Curse could force me to do something I was not willing to do.”

“You…you want to kiss me? Truly?”

“Truly.”

Snape lifted his hand to cup her cheek. He brushed his thumb across her lips, tracing their softness. He leaned toward her and smiled as her breath hitched, and her eyes drifted closed. His mouth moved over hers, and then his lips pressed against hers. He heard her sigh, and her lips moved under his, softening and opening slightly, inviting him inside.

He used his tongue to lightly trace her lips. They were soft and full. He dipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting the silky smoothness of the inside of her lip. Her tongue touched his lightly and drew back quickly.

Snape lifted his mouth from hers. Her eyes opened, and she looked at him.

“Sweet,” he murmured.

Then he dipped his head and captured her lips once again. She was less tentative this time. When his tongue ventured into the sweet moistness of her mouth, she opened her lips a bit more to allow him greater access.

When they broke apart this time, they were both breathing heavily.

This time it was Hermione’s hand that lifted to cup Severus’s cheek. She raised her lips to his, nipping his bottom lip gently before she used her tongue to soothe the slight sting.

“This is so much better,” she sighed, and then she kissed him once more, her tongue slipping across his slightly opened lips to tease his.

Severus lifted his mouth from hers.

“Better than what, Hermione?” he asked in a ragged whisper.

“Better than any dream or fantasy,” she breathed.

“Better than Ron?” Snape teased.

“Ron who?” Hermione asked with a smile.

Severus leaned back on the small settee. He pulled her down so that she was lying atop him, their bodies touching at cheek, and chest, and hips. He knew she could feel his hardness, and he smiled when he heard her draw in a sharp breath.

“Did you ever fantasise about this?” he asked as he moved his hips against hers, rubbing his erection against her mons.

“I…I…” She was blushing again.

“You have, haven’t you?” Severus asked as he ran his hands lightly up and down her back. “You’ve thought of me as you touched yourself, haven’t you?”

Hermione worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

Then she nodded.

Severus groaned and drew her even closer.

“Are you angry?” she asked.

“I’ve never thought of myself as someone a beautiful young witch would fantasise over,” he said as he kissed along her jaw line. “I’m flattered; I’m awed; I’m excited – I’m definitely not angry.”

He kissed her again, deeper this time. He used his lips, his tongue, and his teeth to feast upon her mouth.

They broke apart only long enough for each of them to draw a breath, and then they kissed again.

“So much wasted time,” Hermione said when the kiss ended. “We could have been doing this five years ago, if I’d only spoken sooner.”

“Five years ago, I would have rejected the opportunity that presented itself tonight. I would have rejected you.”

“Why?”

“Because back then, I would never have believed you could feel anything for me except hatred, contempt, and loathing.”

“I never felt those things for you!” she protested.

“I felt them for myself. It has taken me this long to realise that I was ascribing my own emotions to everyone else,” he explained.

“I’m glad then, that I never told you how I felt.”

“We must thank Weasley for being such an arse,” Snape said.

Hermione laughed. “Yes, we must. He hoped to humiliate me and prove me a liar. Instead, he helped precipitate the very relationship he was sure did not exist!”

“The Muggles have a very good idiom that describes that,” Snape said.

“Yes?”

“Yes. He was hoist with his own petard.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him that, though I doubt he’ll know what a petard is,” Hermione said with a grin.

“Why are we talking about Weasley when we could be kissing?” Snape asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Neither do I,” he said and covered her mouth, once again, with his own.

When their lips parted this time, the door to the sitting room swung open.


Hermione and Severus pulled away from each other and jumped to their feet just as Minerva, Harry, and Ron entered the room.

“Hermione!” Harry exclaimed. “Are you all right?”

“Of course I am,” Hermione replied, straightening her robes and lifting a hand to her hair to tuck a stray tendril behind her ear.

“As am I, Minerva,” Snape said, “so don’t bother fussing over me.” He, too, was smoothing down his robes.

“As if I would,” Minerva said tartly, but the little worry lines between her eyebrows seemed to smooth out as she observed that neither Severus nor Hermione seemed to be hurt in any way.

“We were about to call in Bill Weasley,” Harry said. “We couldn’t figure out why the door wouldn’t open.”

“Why didn’t you ask Ron?” Hermione asked as she turned and glared at the wizard in question.

“I don’t know why the door wouldn’t open,” Ron said in a defensive tone. “Did you complete your task?”

“Mr. Weasley did not, apparently, tell you what task we were required to complete,” Snape said through clenched teeth.

“He said he didn’t know. But none of the tasks were that difficult.” Harry seemed genuinely puzzled. “What took you so long, then?” Harry asked. “Didn’t you know any knock-knock jokes?”

“You lying sack of dragon shit!” Hermione said, pulling out her wand and aiming it at Ron. “I’m going to hang your balls from your ears!”

Ron looked stricken and ducked behind Harry.

Both Minerva and Harry looked shocked by Hermione’s words.

“Now, now, Hermione,” Severus said, reaching out and grasping her wand arm. “We were going to thank him, remember?”

“I am going to thank him,” Hermione assured Severus, bestowing a radiant smile upon him. “I’ll thank him right after he’s discharged from St. Mungo’s!”

Snape laughed, causing Harry to look even more shocked.

“What’s going on, Hermione?” Harry asked. “Even if you got the three kisses one, you could’ve just kissed him on the cheek or the forehead or even on the back of his hand like Minerva did to Hagrid.”

Hermione retrieved the slip of parchment from the table by the settee and handed it to Harry.

After Harry read it, he handed it to Minerva.

“That can’t be right,” Harry said. “None of the slips had anything like that on them.”

“Ron added that last line after he realised that it was Severus and me who were going to be coupled off.”

She turned her attention to Ron, who was still hovering behind Harry.

“Isn’t that right, Ronald?” Hermione asked.

Harry turned to face Ron.

“But why, Ron? Why would you want Hermione and Snape to kiss like that?”

“It was just a joke,” Ron mumbled.

Hermione looked to Severus, as though asking his permission to explain.

Snape nodded, and Hermione turned back to Harry.

“I’ve been in love with Severus for years, Harry,” she said.

“What! In love? With him?”

“Yes. When Ron and I broke up, I told him that it was because I was in love with someone else. I told him who it was, and I allowed him to believe that Severus and I were in a relationship. Well, that was more than five years ago, and there’s never been any indication of a relationship between us, because Severus didn’t know that I was in love with him. Ron thought I was lying to him. He used the game to get back at me. If Severus and I were in a relationship, then the requirement would have been easy to meet. If we weren’t in a relationship – if I’d been lying, as he suspected – then I would be stuck in this room with Snape and I’d be forced to kiss him intimately in order to get out. Either way, he thought I would be embarrassed,” she said.

“But, the door opened on its own; that means you must have…”

“Hermione and I have been talking about our purported relationship,” Snape said.

Harry wasn’t sure what surprised him more; hearing Snape calling Hermione by her first name, or hearing him talk about a relationship with her. Both of them creeped him out.

Talking wouldn’t have opened the door,” Harry said.

“After we talked, we decided to fulfil the requirement of the game. We’d been trapped in this room for a while and wanted to leave.”

“You snogged him?” Ron cried. “That’s disgusting!”

“No…what you did was disgusting!” Hermione shouted at him. “Your actions were designed to humiliate me – and you didn’t even stop to think that it would humiliate Severus as well. You were deliberately cruel.”

“I never meant to be cruel,” Ron said. “I just thought you’d rather be with me than with him.”

“I don’t love you, Ron. I never loved you the way you wanted me to,” Hermione said.

“But…but…we were together.” He was the one blushing now.

“I made a mistake,” Hermione said. “I thought that if I was with you, I would get over my feelings for Severus, but I didn’t. And our being ‘together’ didn’t seem to stop you from shagging Lavender, or have you forgotten that?”

Some of what Hermione was saying finally seemed to penetrate the delusional fog in which Ron had been operating for so long. He looked at Hermione and realised that he was never going to get her back.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I was wrong to be shagging Lavender when I was supposed to be going out with you, and I’m sorry for what I did tonight.”

“You owe Severus an apology as well,” Hermione insisted.

Weasley looked like he was about to be ill, and Snape, in what was a rare moment indeed, took pity on the prat.

“No apology is necessary or desired, Weasley,” Snape interjected before Ron could say anything. “Your malapropos comportment has actually produced a serendipitous residuum. I am, therefore, inclined to be magnanimous and eschew retribution. However, should you ever again demonstrate such blatant contumeliousness towards Hermione, or me, you will rue the day.”

“What’d he say?” Ron said to the room at large.

Hermione smiled. “He said you’re forgiven, but if you ever try something like this again, he’ll kick your arse.”

“Close enough,” Snape agreed.

“Well,” said Minerva, speaking for the first time since she’d entered the room, “I’m glad that’s settled. It seems that you have now fulfilled the terms of our wager, Severus, and your debt is hereby discharged.”

Snape merely nodded.

“Well, I guess the party’s over,” Harry said. “Everyone else has gone home.”

“How long have we been in here, anyway?” Hermione wanted to know.

“An hour and ten minutes,” Minerva said, looking at her watch.

Hermione smiled and said, “Well, then, it seems that Severus and I have invented a new party game.”

Severus wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

“Indeed, we have,” he agreed. “I think we’ll call it Seventy Minutes in Heaven.”

And then, heedless of the others in the room, he kissed her.


Terminus


"He was hoist with his own petard," is from Shakespeare, specifically Hamlet, act III, scene 4, lines 206 and 207. It literally means to be blown up (hoist) with one’s own mine or bomb (petard).































































Seven Minutes in Heaven by StormySkize [Reviews - 86]


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