Disclaimer: All recognisable characters and places in this story are borrowed from the works by J.K. Rowling and copyrighted by her and her corporate affiliates. I intend no disrespect (quite the contrary) and no commercial use of this work is intended nor is any revenue being made from it.

This is a response to the WIKTT’s Bar challenge.
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Hermione walked into the bar. The others were already there, and she made her way to them, apologizing for being late.


“The fifth years' essays. I can’t help thinking about what Vector must have thought about us when we were new to Arithmancy, some of the silly theories those dunderheads concoct…..” Hermione waved her hand in expiration.


“There, there,” Luna said. “Forget work for a moment, Hermione. It’s girls’ night out and my choice of place. How do you like it?”


Hermione looked around the rather large, but poorly lit room, which was already half-full, even though it was still rather early. She took in some of the other guests and nodded to herself.


“Well, Luna, I’d say it is definitely your sort of place.”


“We thought as much,” Ginny said, “but the Moonshine over Maudlin is really great. You should try it, I feel pleasantly drunk already and I’ve still only eaten the garnish.”


Hermione looked at Ginny’s big glass, half-filled with deep golden liquor and decorated with a stunningly green frog, which breathed heavily.


“Don’t,” Tonks said, “that frog spit makes your head ache no end the day after. Here have my Days of Wine and Roses instead, it was a bit too cute for my taste.”


She pushed the flowery drink into Hermione’s hands. It tasted like a mixture of perfume and champagne and Hermione resigned to sipping it while watching Tonks order a beer for herself.


“To another Thursday night in the company of the brave and beautiful,” Luna said and lifted her glass of Potionmaster’s gin and pumpkin juice.


“Cheers!”


“So what is the topic for tonight Luna,” Ginny said, taking a swig at her drink.


“Tonight’s topic will be “The five senses”. May I remind you, ladies, no off-topic discussions or the errant party will have to pay the next round.”


“Agreed,” they chorused.


This was their usual ritual. Every second Thursday they would come together, taking turns to decide what place to go to. The topic thing had come up when they realized that the evenings out were becoming too alike. They all started with each of the girls retelling her favorite war memory, then continued with everyone, except Luna of course, complaining of being single and ended with each of them telling her worst war memory and Ginny having to be mobilicorpus’ed back to her flat. About a year back, they decided this was not going to work and rather than giving up their Thursday nights, they had introduced “The Topic”. You could discuss anything as long as you could somehow connect it to “The Topic”. It forced creativity and had made their evenings a lot more varied. They still talked about the war and about men, but each time from a different angle.


“I am completely bereft of my senses,” Tonks said halfway down her beer. “If I don’t get a man soon I’m sure my sense of dignity will finally decompose and I’ll beg Kingsley to take me on the office floor. I don’t care if he’s married.”


“You shouldn’t complain,” Ginny said sternly, “at least you work with a man so you can smell him, hear him and see him. Consider my work, women, women and even more women.”


“That’s staff, what about the patients?” Luna said.


“Professional ethics, my dear,” Ginny sighed, “as a healer I will not allow myself to think of my male patients as potential partners.” “You see,” she added, as she realised she would probably be considered somewhat off-topic.


The others shook their heads.


“Fine.” Ginny sighed and ordered another round.


“At least you two do not have to give up your beauty sleep for the dubious pleasure of seeing hormone-crazed teenagers trying to exchange bodily fluids and having to stem the tide of their unmotivated enthusiasm by sending them back to their beds, alone.” Hermione said curtly, sipping a Virgin’s Prayer. “And your ears are not regularly assaulted by the agonizing of the odd fifteen year-old air head as her heart has been permanently broken, because she happened to smell another girls perfume on the school robe of her, generously spotted, beloved.”


“Really, Hermione,” Luna chided, “your potential for sarcasm is approaching Snapely levels. How is the old bat by the way?”


“As always, I suppose.” Hermione said with what she hoped would sound as indifference and continued to give the others an update of all their other common acquaintances currently at Hogwarts.

Ginny ordered yet another Moonlight over Maudlin, since the frog on her second one had leapt away, Hermione ordered a new Days of Wine and Roses.


“How can you drink that sickly stuff?” Tonks asked.


“Don’t know,” Hermione grinned, picking up the fresh rosebud and sticking it into her hair. “Maybe if I drink enough of it, I’ll forget my own Days of Bad Coffee and Teaching.”


“Be careful, Hermione,” Luna warned, “or you’ll be trundling down to the dungeon tomorrow begging Snape for a hang-over cure. That stuff is a lot stronger than it tastes.”


“Talk about the devil!” Tonks whispered, as the door of the bar opened and the familiar, black-robed shape of Severus Snape appeared. He nodded politely at each of them as he reached the bar.


“Miss Tonks, Dr Weasley, Professor Granger, Mrs. Potter.”


Tonks nodded, Ginny did some sort of sitting curtsey, Hermione mumbled a vague “Hello” and Luna smiled broadly saluting him with her glass.
When Snape had retreated to the furthest corner of the room with his Old Ogden’s, Ginny quietly said:


“Now, that’s at least a man no woman with her senses intact would want.”


“Why not?” Luna said, still smiling.


“Really, Luna, he is the ugliest man I’ve ever known. Imagine awakening to the sight of that big nose on the pillow next to you.” Ginny shivered.


“True, he’s no beauty,” Luna shook back her blond mane and emptied her drink, “but sight is only one sense out of five, Ginny. Besides he moves well, I like graceful men.”


Hermione squirmed a bit on her bar stool. What was Luna up to? Defending Snape from vicious verbal attacks was usually Hermione’s prerogative. She felt a bit miffed. Tonks spoke up.


“He has a great voice. I wonder if he can sing?”


“How can you say he has a great voice?” Ginny stared at Tonks in disbelief. “Ominous, I could buy, powerful yes, but it gives me the shivers.” She took another sip at her drink, licking the back of the frog first.


“But imagine that silky sneer whispering indecent suggestions in your ear,” Tonks drawled and nudged Hermione in the ribs. “Put a bag over his head and let him talk to me, I’d say. Or do that muggle thing you told us about Hermione, tellatio sex or whatever it was called.”


“Telephone sex,” Hermione said, blushing a bit as she took a big gulp of her sparkling rose-garden of a drink. She felt thankful that Luna had chosen a badly lit place. That one struck a little too close to home. He certainly did have a suggestive voice; like a cello, she’d often thought, capable of the harshest sounds as well as the sweetest melodies.


“Well we all know about your weakness for basses,” Hermione retorted.


“I like tenors,” Ginny volunteered.


“You know you really should date Colin Creevey, he has a lovely tenor,” Luna said.


“Don’t start that again.” Ginny swayed a bit, as she waved a warning finger.


“He smells good.” Luna stretched out a hand to the bartender to get a refill of her glass.


“Colin?” Hermione looked questioningly at Luna while ordering a Violet Sunday.


“No, Snape of course.”


“And just how would you know that?” Hermione realized she had sounded a bit jealous. Damn, I’m losing it, she thought. That floral fizz really was a bit stronger than she had anticipated.


“I used to sniff him in class, whenever he came close enough,” Luna continued, seemingly oblivious to any specific nuances in Hermione’s voice. “His scent is rather discreet but very male, I think.”


“I won’t tell Harry you said that or you’ll be out of sex for a week at least,” Tonks chided.


“Serves her right, smug Mrsh. I-can get-all I-want-whenever-I-wants-it.” Ginny’s speech was getting a bit slurred and Tonks resolutely lifted the frog off the glass, before Ginny could lick it again.


“I’ll get you back to your flat tonight,” Tonks said dryly, “but honestly, Ginny, it is a bit early for it still.”


“I’m not drunk,” Ginny sulked, “my tongue ish jusht a bit anesthetished by that lovely frog.”


“I’ll get you a Lizard’s Plunge instead,” Tonks said, patting Ginny’s shoulder. “Anyone else?”


Everyone nodded. The lizard was red and tasted vaguely like liquorice.


“Is your sense of taste gone, too?” Hermione asked Luna two-thirds down her drink.

They had talked about Luna’s recent trip to Paris and Ginny’s disastrous date with a Spanish wizard. Hermione had been grateful for the change of focus. Severus Snape did smell good if you could get close enough to get a sniff. She seldom did. Teaching at the same school meant meeting every day, but it did, unfortunately, not mean intimacy. He probably didn’t even know she fancied him. She hoped that he didn’t know. No one knew, but she was beginning to think that Luna might suspect something. She peered across the room. Snape was sitting alone at his table. Maybe she should just pass him by, on her way to the loo, venture some smart comment? Only she wasn’t exactly good at that sort of thing. She quickly averted her eyes, as he stirred in his seat. Who knew what arts he had learnt as a spy, perhaps he could sense her looking at him. Then maybe he knew. She blushed at the thought and downed the remainder of her drink. Tonks’ voice cut through her private ponderings.


“Earth calling Professor Granger!”


“Sorry, Tonks, where were we?”


“You have the final vote, Mione, do you want to hear this juicy piece of information or not?” Ginny said leeringly, her voice already improved, now that the frogs were gone.


“Don’t call me that! And of course I want to hear it, do you even have to ask?” Hermione emptied her glass, she was getting quite drunk and she had no idea of what this conversation was all about.


“Bad girl, Hermione, I’d say you’re just as lewd over the greasy old git as those two ladies. I am the only one with good taste around here.”


“Says the woman who has bedded arch sissy Draco Malfoy,” Tonks said, as she reached out to prevent Ginny from falling off the stool.


“A girl makes one little mistake,” Ginny complained.


“Come on, I want to hear the juicy stuff,” Luna interrupted.


“Professor Snape,” Ginny made an artful pause. Whether she did to make sure she had everyone’s attention or just because she also was quite drunk, Hermione couldn’t tell. Ginny started again.
“Professor Snape doesn’t feel too bad.” Ginny waited patiently until Tonks had stopped coughing after choking on her new beer.


“He was my patient after that awful attack on the first-year anniversary of the victory. I was an apprentice then, so I cleaned him up when he came in. Pale like death, but then, who would notice the difference? I thought, I’d wash his hair. But, blimey, it looked greasy the minute after I’d left the room. “


“Like combing Harry then,” Luna said lovingly, “really nice exercise, but utterly futile.”


“Yeah, but he has sort of a nice texture to his hair, really soft. And,” Ginny leaned forward, regaining her balance at the very last minute, “his body is almost hairless.” She giggled and took a big gulp of her umpteenth frog drink.


“Yew!” Tonks wrinkled her nose. “That’s girlish. Men should be hairy all over.”


“Like Kingsley?” Hermione asked acidly while trying to catch the attention of the barman.


Tonks nodded.


“Yeah, everywhere but on his head.” She fell silent, staring at her empty glass. “I love him,” she suddenly wailed. “Why is he married to that stupid bitch? I’m going to die an old maid.”


Luna patted her arm.


“No you’re not. You’ll find someone.”


“I want someone hairy,” Tonks sobbed.


Hermione wondered exactly when Tonks had gone from sober to her usual, completely boozed “I-love–a-married-man” state. Fine with me, she thought, as long as Tonks’ liking of Snape’s voice didn’t lead her to take any action Hermione wouldn’t complain. Tonks in action was frightfully efficient and usually successful, Kingsley being the exception. A typical case of “I only want what I cannot get”, Hermione thought. But then again, who was she to say anything on that subject. She glanced towards the far corner. Snape was still there. Hermione wondered if he was drunk, too. Maybe if she approached him now that he was off-guard? But then again, when was Severus Snape ever off-guard? They had been colleagues for over a year now and she hadn’t even qualified for calling him Severus yet. Bloody, vexing man, why did he have to be so remote?


-“I remember that night,” Luna said, suddenly serious. “The first year anniversary, I mean.”


They all nodded. They all remembered it.


“Stop it now,” Ginny said sternly. “No more war discussions, we are having a nice night out and besides, today’s topic is the five senses.”


“Really?” Tonks said. “I had almost started thinking it was Professor Snape.”


Hermione opened her mouth to protest but was beaten to it by Luna.


“Ginny is right, the five senses it is. Professor Snape is only an example of a man that assaults them all. Let me recap: Looks bad, sounds good, smells good, feels good. That leaves taste then,” Luna said briskly.


“If anyone of you tells me you know what Professor Snape tastes like, I’m going to throw up,” Ginny said, before she emptied her glass.


“Don’t be stupid Ginny, if you throw up it will be because you’ve kissed far too many frogs tonight,” Luna said disapprovingly.


“Yeah,” Ginny leered, “it’s intoxicating. Pity they never turn into princes, though.”


Luna turned to Hermione smiling in that cunning way which, Hermione knew only too well, meant trouble. Luna looked sober enough but Hermione could see the slight squint which gave her away.


“You haven’t been all that eloquent tonight, Hermione. It’s your turn now. What does Professor Severus Snape, the fabled bat of the Hogwarts’ dungeon taste like? “


“How would I know?” Hermione sulked.


“Well don’t just sit there, find out!” Luna said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “You’re supposed to be the know-it-all.”


“What do you want me to do? Go up to him and take a bite?” Hermione stared at the robed back on the other side of the room. Come to think of it, that wasn’t such a bad idea, she thought.


“No, kiss him, you fool.”


“Yeah, kiss him,” Ginny said, “and then come back and tell us what it was like. If you puke on the floor, you won’t have to tell. We’ll know anyway,” she added thoughtfully resting her head on the table.


“No, I can’t do that,” Hermione croaked, “he’ll hex me straight into oblivion.”


“Where are your guts, girl? Are you the Head of Gryffindor or not?” Luna teased.


“He’s a Slytherin, Luna,” Tonks said, shifting her glassy stare from Luna to Hermione. “He’ll take advantage of the situation. That’s what Slytherins do. Don’t forget to take a paper bag with you.”


“You’re a disgraceful bunch,” Hermione complained as she slid down to the floor, not very gracefully, but at least she landed on her feet.


“We just need to know,” Luna giggled.


“Knowledge is a good thing,” Tonks added, pushing Hermione. “Go get him.”


She wasn’t going to do what they’d said, Hermione thought, of course not. She might be drunk but she wasn’t suicidal. She would just go over and say hello. Maybe ask him if he’d care to apparate back to Hogwarts with her, so they could walk the last bit together. Or buy him a drink, perhaps. But then again, what if Tonks was right?

The bar was crowded now and she kept bumping into people, as she made her way towards the far end and that alluring black shape. He had his back turned to her. She maneuvered herself all the way up to his chair. He didn’t turn and he didn’t stir and she could see that he had several empty glasses in front of him.
So close, she thought as she watched his hair gleam in the flickering candle-light.

Soft, Ginny had said. Hermione felt her fingers itch to touch him. She leaned down and inhaled his scent. He smelled clean and dark and very, very male. She couldn’t, he’d hex her, but then again, maybe….

Gingerly she put her hands on his shoulders and ran them up through his hair. She felt his body stiffen and he turned to face her, slowly, not with his usual whiplash speed.


“Professor Granger?” he said, his deep voice sounding surprised rather than angry.


“You smell good,” Hermione said dreamily.


Severus Snape cocked his eyebrow and stared at her in disbelief.


“You feel good, too,” Hermione ventured. She felt him relax a bit as her hands moved back down to his shoulders.


“You are drunk, Professor Granger,” he said stiffly.


“A bit,” Hermione admitted and immediately stumbled in her attempt to round his chair. He caught her before she fell and instead she slid down into his lap.


“Professor Granger, stop this now,” he hissed softly, but he didn’t push her away.


Slightly encouraged by this Hermione said, “And you sound great!” She rested her forehead against his. Throwing all caution overboard she decided to continue:


“I just want to know what you taste like.”


Before he could retort she caught his lips in a kiss. She felt his body go rigid. Damn it, she thought, I am a dead woman. She pulled back and looked sheepishly into his bottomless black eyes.


“I’m sorry, she whispered, it’s just….”


It was then she felt his arms come up around her, drawing her closer and as their lips met a second time she probed his mouth with her tongue, languidly tasting his.


When they finally broke the kiss, Hermione could hear the hysterical laughter from her friends across the room. She ignored them, at least they would have something to talk about on Thursday a fortnight from now. Looking straight at the man in front of her, she frowned and kissed the tip of his nose.


“You don’t look too good,” she told him rudely, “but I can live with four out of five.”


He silenced her with another kiss.