Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine...well, except for the band and the host. The others belong to the brilliant J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this. I simply want you to enjoy!!!



The Chair




Well excuse me,

But I think you've got my chair.

Hermione wasn't sure what compelled her to walk into the dimly lit, smoky bar in Hogsmeade that night. All she knew was that she was lonely, tired of being pushed aside by her friends, and in great need of a strong drink. So, she slipped into a little red dress that hadn't been worn in two years, twisted her curly hair up in the back of her head, and apparated to the Blue Cork Lounge for some jazz and martinis.

"Will you be dining alone this evening, miss?" the host at the door asked, flashing her a somewhat sympathetic smile from behind his bushy white mustache.

"Yes, thank you," she answered, following the man's slow, deliberate gait through the maze of candle-lit tables filled with couples of all ages, smoking thin cigarettes and sipping glasses of wine and martinis.

"Here you are," he said, pulling a chair out for her at a table near the front of the stage.

She took the offered seat and smiled up at him.

"May I ask who's performing tonight?"

"A young lady by the name of Angelique DeGracerio," he answered, sitting a small menu on the table in front of her. "Very talented."

"Thank you," she said, flipping open the menu. The host slipped away, leaving Hermione to browse the menu, alone with her thoughts of whether to order the Cosmopolitan or a simple glass of wine. She didn't even notice the man dressed head to toe in black come up behind her, not until he spoke.

"Excuse me, but I believe you are in my seat."

Her head snapped up at the low, silky voice coming from behind her right shoulder. She turned in her seat and started back in surprise.

"Professor Snape?" she asked, standing up and nearly stumbling over the chair legs in her haste.

"Miss Granger." He simply looked down at her with those deep black pools God dared to give him for eyes, a slight smirk gracing his thin pink lips. He swirled off his cloak and draped it over his right arm, ruffling his shoulder length black hair in the process.

"I'm sorry, sir, but did you say I was in your chair?"

"Yes," he said, sitting down in the empty seat to her left.

No that one's not taken,

I don't mind if you sit here.

I'll be glad to share.

She stared down at him, mouth agape.

"Erm, do you want me to leave?"

"No, the seat you have been sitting in is not taken. You may stay if you wish."

She sat down silently, still unable to tear her eyes away from the man who used to scare the living shit out of her in school. Yet here he was, looking like a normal human being instead of the overgrown bat she had always thought him, and treating her like a real person for the very first time. She was dumbstruck.

"Miss Granger, are you planning on staring at me all night?" he asked, ripping her out of her thoughts.

She shook her head and blushed, tearing her eyes away from him and on to the candle flickering lightly in the middle of the table.

"I'm sorry sir, it's just that, well..."

He chuckled.

"Ah yes, you're trying to picture me as the overgrown bat, am I correct?"

She shrugged, the blush deepening on her cheeks.

"You can't believe the 'greasy git' actually left his dungeons and is out for real food instead of the human blood he usually has for dinner, right Miss Granger?"

"Please sir, don't think that!" she exclaimed, looking up at him in alarm. She was shocked to see an amused smile on his face. He had been playing with her... She found herself captivated by that smile, a smile that took at least ten years from his face. He looked radiant, beautiful, and absolutely desirable. "What the hell?!"

"Excuse me?" he asked, raising one elegantly arched eyebrow at her.

"I'm sorry, I just had this thought..." she trailed off, embarrassed. "Never mind." She took a deep breath and looked back up at him, grinning. "I honestly have to say that I never expected you to have a sense of humor."

He shrugged, opening the menu Hermione had previously been browsing.

"There are a lot of things you would be surprised to learn, Miss Granger."

"Would it be too much for you to call me Hermione?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him. "After all, it looks like we will be dining together tonight."

She could see his eyes crinkle at that, the only part of his face she could see from behind the menu.

"Very well, Hermione," he said, looking back down at the menu.

She sighed, exasperated, then reached across the table and pulled the menu down so that she could see his entire face.

"May I call you Severus?"

"Of course," he said, pulling the menu from her grasp and focusing on its pages once more.

Yeah it's usually,

Packed here on Friday nights.

They sat in silence for a few moments until Hermione couldn't stand it anymore. The silence was becoming uncomfortable.

"So, at the risk of sounding cliched, do you come here often?" she asked, leaning back in her seat.

He looked up at her, folding the menu in the process. A small smile graced his lips.

"I come every Friday for the live jazz," he answered. He looked around slowly, then met her eyes once more. "It's usually filled to the brim on Fridays."

"Looks like I got lucky then, finding a seat. I didn't have a reservation."

Just then the band entered the stage. Four middle-aged men and a young girl, probably Hermione's age, with cropped black hair and wearing a figure-hugging blue dress. She couldn't help but flick her eyes over to Severus to see just what his reaction to the scantily clad girl would be. She was shocked to find his eyes resting on her own face, an unreadable expression on his face. She cleared her throat uncomfortably and shifted her gaze back to the band. They struck up a slow, mournful tune, the girl's throaty, smoky voice blending perfectly with the piano and other instruments. She closed her eyes instinctively at the first notes, losing herself for a moment in the music.


Oh if you don't mind

Could I talk you out of a light?

When she opened her eyes she noticed Severus with a thin cigarette in his fingers, searching fruitlessly in his many pockets for a lighter. She grinned, fished a silver lighter from her own purse, then flicked the switch, holding the small flame out in front of her.

"Need a light?" she asked, grinning coyly at him. He grinned, then took the lighter from her, flicking it again to re-start the flame, then bringing the cigarette to his lips and puffing on it a bit to light the end. When it was glowing a smoldering red, he handed the lighter back to her, a small tendril of smoke snaking from the end of the cigarette and grazing lightly over her cheek like a caress.

He leaned back in the chair and pulled a long drag, blowing the smoke carelessly to the side. He looked back at her and tapped the cigarette on the edge of a crystal ashtray, ashes dropping in small heaps into the concave dish.

Well thank you

Could I drink you a buy?

Aw listen to me,

What I mean is can I buy you a drink?

Anything you please.

"Thank you," he said, bringing the cigarette to his lips once more.

"You're welcome," she said, unable to stop herself from watching as he opened his mouth and slowly expelled his breath in the form of ribbons of thin white smoke.

He motioned a waiter to their table and looked expectantly at her.

"Could I buy you a drink for your troubles?"

"It was hardly trouble, Severus," she said, shaking her head.

He shrugged and stamped out the cigarette in the ashtray.

"You helped an old man succumb to his one vice," he said, grinning boyishly at her. "I think that calls for an alcoholic reward."

She laughed lightly at his jibe at himself, marveling inwardly at this complete turn-around of a man.

"Cosmopolitan," she told the waiter, who nodded at her and turned to Severus.

"And for you sir?"

"Scotch."

Hermione watched as the waiter pulled a wand from his pocket, waved it over the table, then spoke aloud their drink orders. A pink Cosmopolitan appeared in front of Hermione, a tumbler full of ice and amber liquid in front of Severus.

"Will you be ordering dinner this evening?"

Hermione shook her head at Severus, who simply nodded and waved the waiter off to another table.

"No dinner?" he asked, raising that same eyebrow at her. God, she wished she could do that.

"No, I just wanted to get a few drinks tonight," she answered, closing her eyes and taking a small sip of the drink. She sighed in contentment as it slid down her throat. "Thank you so much for the drink."


Oh you're welcome,

Well I don't think I caught your name.

Are you waiting for someone to meet you here, well,

that makes two of us.

Glad you came.

He waved a long, slim hand carelessly at her, then took a long drink out of the tumbler.

"Think nothing of it," he said, dipping a finger into his glass and swirling the ice around and around the cup, small tinkling noises invading Hermione's ears even over the sound of the music. He pulled the finger from the glass, shook it slightly, then brought it to his mouth and sucked the liquid off. Hermione gulped, her eyes widening slightly at that. "Are you supposed to meet someone here tonight?"

"Oh, no," she said, looking down at her drink and running her finger around the edge. "I just needed some time away."

He smiled warmly at her, then took another drink of his Scotch.

"That makes two of us," he said, sitting the glass on the white cloth and folding his arms over the table.

She grinned at him.

"Well then, I'm glad you came."

He laughed lightly at her, a warm, smooth sound that soothed the tension from her body and made her want to lay back and just listen to him talk.

"Me too," he said, reaching across the table for her hand.

No I don't know the name of the band but they're good,

aren't they would you like to dance?

She started back in surprise, nearly yanking her hand out from under his before calming herself down a bit. She knew she was blushing, but his warm skin felt too nice over her cold hand. And God knew it had been far too long since she had been touched. How long had it been? A year? Two? She wasn't sure. All she was sure of was that her former Professor was sitting across a small table from her in a very romantic restaurant, that he looked gorgeous, that he was holding her hand......and that she didn't mind in the least.

She looked up at him and smiled shyly. At that moment the band struck up a slow, romantic tune. She watched as Severus looked over at the band, then back at her, before standing up and extending his hand to her once more.

"Would you like to dance?"

She sat dumbstruck for a moment, before placing her hand in his, standing up, and following him out onto the empty dance floor. She could feel the eyes of everyone else in the room on them as he brought her around to face him before placing his right hand on her waist and pulling her close to his body. She slid her left hand up his arm and around the back of his shoulder, allowing herself the luxury of sliding a lock of his silky hair through her fingers. She smiled up at him, and then they started to move. He brought her in a small circle, never taking his eyes from hers, a look of pure delight on his handsome face.

She found herself spellbound as he whirled her around the floor. Their eyes were locked together as if by a magnet, and she could almost swear that he kept pulling her closer, moving his fingers slowly over her back as if trying not to let her notice what he was doing. She let an easy smile cover her face before deliberately snaking her arm further around his body, pulling him closer so that their bodies were flush together, his heartbeat thumping softly against her chest. He smiled appreciatively down at her, running his hand softly over the exposed skin of her back and sending chills racing down her spine and goosebumps rocketing over her arms.

Yeah I like this song too,

It reminds me of you and me baby,

Do you think there's a chance?

That later on, I could drive you home?
No I don't mind at all.

"Mmmm, I love this song," Hermione whispered, leaning her head against his chest and closing her eyes. He leaned down so that his lips were against her ear.

"So do I," he whispered, sending another wave of chills through her body. "It makes me think of you, Hermione."

She pulled back and looked up at him, wonder in her eyes.

"It does?" she asked, smiling. "Why is that?"

He smiled lightly before reaching up and running his fingers through the hair framing her face, then placing her head back on his shoulder. He leaned down to her ear again.

"Listen to the words," he whispered, running his fingers down her arm. "She sings of passion, desire, yearning," He let the words float into the air before speaking again. "Lust," His voice deeper and huskier now... "Fire," He ran his lips smoothly over Hermione's ear... "Hunger."

He pulled back and brought a finger under Hermione's chin, raising it slowly so that she met his eyes. Hers were clouded with desire, a pink blush to her cheeks. His eyes were sparking with the same desire, and his lips were full and pink, just begging to be kissed. She couldn't have resisted if she tried as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, fireworks exploding inside of her as they kissed. He moved his lips slowly, passionately over hers, tentatively running his tongue along the crease in her lips. She opened her mouth to him and succumbed as he explored every ridge with his soft, seeking tongue. After what felt like only seconds he pulled away, his cheeks flushed with passion.

"I don't suppose you would allow me to take you home this evening?" he asked, question in his eyes.

She smiled coyly at him, then stood on her toes and brought her mouth to his in another hungry kiss.

"Does that answer your question?" she asked against his lips. She felt him smile.

Oh I like you too, and to tell you the truth,

That wasn't my chair after all.

Moments later they were walking out the door, his arm slung protectively around her shoulders, hers around his waist, neither of them willing to let the other go. They walked slowly down the cobbled streets, rarely passing other couples on their way back to the castle. They didn't speak. They simply walked, stopping every now and then to share a passionate kiss in some darkened alcove.

He pulled her into one of these and pressed her up against his chest, wrapping his cloak around her and hugging her close before bring his mouth down to claim hers in a slow battle of seeking lips and tongue. He pulled back and smiled down at her.

"I have a confession to make," he whispered, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

"What's that?" she asked, running her fingers over the exposed skin of his collarbone.

"You remember how I told you that you were in my chair?"

"Of course."

He grinned and placed a small kiss on her nose.

"Well, as it turns out, that wasn't my chair after all. I simply couldn't resist you sitting there all alone, looking so beautiful in that red dress."

She smiled, then reached up and pulled his mouth down to hers.

After a few moments they drew back, twined their fingers together, and headed back down the street in complete silence. The stars twinkled silently overhead, their footsteps echoing loudly through the empty streets as they walked. They didn't speak. They simply walked......

Oh I like you too, and to tell you the truth,

That wasn't my chair after all.