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The Scientist by neelix [Reviews - 2]

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When he looked back, years later, Severus was hard pressed to pinpoint the change in his relationship with Hermione. He did remember that when she had started as his apprentice, it had been against his better judgement. Minerva had put him over a barrel because he had told her the month before that his workload was too great. Rather than reducing his working hours, she had thrust Hermione in his direction, and he was forever indebted to her.

After the war and the subsequent celebrations, most of which he managed to ignore, Severus Snape had returned to Hogwarts with the intention of making just enough money to retire on comfortably. He had had his eye on a Spanish villa, or perhaps a cottage on one of the smaller Greek islands. He just wanted somewhere to hide out indefinitely, and to live out his days in peaceful anonymity.

Minerva had badgered him about it no end. She pleaded with him to live his life and not let it peter out into a lonely, isolated existence. She had been right, much to his chagrin, and she would often remind him of how she saved his life while bouncing his youngest on her knee. Severus would curse his bad luck that he was surrounded by women who loved to prove him wrong.

******

Hermione’s scent lingered long after she had left the room, and it was this that first alerted Severus to her charms. A mix of vanilla and roses, sometimes with a hint of musk, it had taken Severus some time to realise where the aroma was coming from. Then one day he had walked past her to reach the shelf of ingredients behind the workbench, and the had scent assailed his nostrils, teasing him and tempting him to inhale deeply. His mouth had started to water slightly, and his eyes had fallen on her in amazement when he realised that such a wonderful fragrance was coming from his apprentice.

It was also at that moment that he had noticed her hair was no longer bushy, but rather silky and wavy. The colour had surprised him, too. In his mind he had remembered her as being quite mousey, not chestnut with copper highlights and golden shimmers as the light hit it. It was quite a surprise.

******

After their wedding, Hermione teased him mercilessly about the summer in the Potions store, when he had almost seduced her by stripping off in the summer heat. Severus humoured her, but his memory was somewhat different. He recalled that she had practically fainted in the heat until she had finally requested to remove the ridiculously thick robes. Why she hadn’t just removed them he couldn’t imagine, but as she shrugged them from her shoulders, her blouse had gaped open slightly at the front, and he had been treated to a view of her creamy breasts, encased in simple white lace. She had breathed out a relieved gasp, and he had caught a hint of peppermint mixed with her usual scent. The combination of aroma and the view of her body had forced him to retreat up the ladder to hide his slightly growing erection, and he had chastened himself for entertaining impure thoughts of her. This was Hermione Granger, ex-student and now his Apprentice. Anything else would have been highly inappropriate.

The heat in the potions store had affected him eventually, and he had followed her lead, removing his heavy jacket and hanging it beside her robes on the hook on the back of the door. Her scent had permeated the fabric of the robes, and he had pretended to take his time hanging his jacket, just so he had more opportunity to inhale deeply. He had closed his eyes and allowed himself to indulge for a moment, then brought himself back to the present. He had turned to ask her about the origins of the fragrance, but she was staring at him, with her breath coming in short bursts, causing her breasts to rise and fall. His erection had started to grow again as he stared at her, and he had to climb up the ladder without asking his question so that she wouldn’t notice his arousal.


******

She kept staring at him. He didn’t know how long she had been doing it, but on more than one occasion he had glanced up at her to find her staring straight at him, sometimes with her mouth slightly open and her cheeks a little flushed. And so he had decided to test her by looking at her more often. She really should have been concentrating on her work, but every single time he looked up, her eyes had been on him. He had challenged her on one occasion, asking if everything was well. She had stammered a little and stumbled over her words, shocked that he had spoken to her. Afterwards, she had averted her eyes, and he had noticed that she stopped staring as often. He had been shocked to realise that he was disappointed.


******


They had shared a dance at the Yule Ball, a tradition that Minerva had insisted on after the war. He could still feel her in his arms when he closed his eyes, and he knew he was smitten.

Then she had left him at Christmas to visit her parents. That was what it had felt like, that she had left him. He knew she would return, but as she bade him goodbye, he had continued to stir his potion, raising his hand in a non-committal wave, so that she wouldn’t see the emotion etched on his face or recognise the gut-wrenching pain that was gripping his stomach.

The door had closed with a soft click, and he had dropped the ladle, turned out the fire beneath his cauldron and walked to the Floo. Minerva had listened with patient attentiveness to his mumbled musings about his Apprentice. To his shock and delight, she hadn’t beaten him around the head with her broom, but had encouraged him to pursue matters. Whatever they may be.

Hermione had bought him a Christmas gift of a book and a small marble pestle and mortar, which had been delivered by Shinty, his house-elf, first thing on Christmas morning. Neatly packaged and wrapped with green and silver paper, a hand-written gift tag showed a smiling Santa Claus. It had been the only indication that Christmas had arrived in the dungeons. He had stared at it for some time, running his fingers lightly across her writing. He had liked the way she had written his name, her softly rounded letter ‘S’, and the small kiss she had placed after her own name. He had taken the tag from the parcel carefully and tucked it into the pocket of his jacket, and then painstakingly unfastened the sticky tape.

She had thought about him, he had said over and over to himself. She had thought about him.


******

He couldn’t contain his happiness to see her back in the lab. She had smiled at him, and he had smiled back at her, making stilted conversation just so he could hear her speak. She hadn't fully responded to him, and had seemed distracted. But she was staring at him again, and Minerva had assured him that this was a good thing.

She looked lovely, he had mused as he stared at her. He had been so tempted to walk over and take her in his arms, to inhale the scent he had longed for and missed so much. He had been at a loss.

‘I am going for tea, Hermione. I shall return shortly,’ he had murmured, needing to get away from her before he lost his head.

He had paced his sitting room for a while before finally Flooing Minerva for advice. The direct approach had been suggested, yet Severus hadn’t felt so scared in his life. What if Minerva was wrong?

He had waited almost all afternoon, gathering his courage and watching her. The tension in the lab had been palpable, and as his eyes met Hermione’s for the umpteenth time, he had known. He had seen it in her face. Her eyes had been wide and her pupils large, her breathing had been laboured, and she had run her tongue prettily across her bottom lip. He knew, and so he had asked her. He had shocked himself, and startled her, because she had dropped her ladle and stared at him open-mouthed.

But thank the gods; she had wanted him to kiss her. He remembered it, even now. Her lips had been soft and warm under his, and her mouth had opened gently to let his tongue probe her sweet wetness. She had tasted delicious, the kiss had been heady, and he had held her gently, burying his fingers into her curls. His nostrils had been assaulted by her enticing perfume, and he had realised it must come from something she was using to tame her chestnut locks.

And as they had finally come up for air, she had smiled at him dazzlingly, and he had felt the world shift beneath his feet.




The Scientist by neelix [Reviews - 2]

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