Work Text:
“Do we really have to go?” asked Hermione while Ginny put mascara on her eyelashes skillfully.
“Yes,” the younger girl answered impatiently. “We have this conversation every year.” She stretched the skin around the left eye a little. “Now, shut up and stop moving! Or I’ll mess this up.”
Hermione decided to NOT roll her eyes at her friend as she didn’t fancy meeting her early demise by messing up the make-up the ginger had been putting on her for almost an hour.
“I don’t understand why you act like we drag you to a torture chamber and leave you with hungry lions! It’s just a bloody ball.”
Hermione did roll her eyes at this, and she was lucky enough that Ginny chose that moment to finish with her eyelashes. At the ripe age of twenty-seven Hermione still despised crowded public events where she had to smile despite the horrible circumstances surrounding the cause of the said event and pretend that their lives had not been fucked by a bloodthirsty monster and they hadn’t basically been left to fend for themselves when they were mere children.
“I don’t see how anyone can stomach celebrating the day we lost so many people. It should be Memorial Day, not Victory Day.
This time it was Ginny who rolled her eyes. “And every year I tell you, I agree. But it’s not like we can do anything about it.”
“We don’t have to attend, you know?”
Ginny sent her a glare, looking much like her mother. “I’m married to the reason there is a Victory Day, and you are a high-ranking Ministry official. Refusing to attend could hurt your career.”
Hermione huffed. She knew all of these. She just wanted to whine a little as this was the only way to let her frustration out. “Fine.”
When they were about to finish getting ready, Harry called from downstairs. “We’ll be late if we don’t leave right now!”
“Shut up!” Ginny shouted back. “We’re coming!”
If Hermione didn’t know how much these two loved each other, she would think they despised each other with the way they interacted sometimes.
“I love you, too!” came the cheeky response of Harry and Hermione couldn’t fight the smile that took over her face. She was so happy to see her best friend forming the family he always wanted.
“Ron is going to lose his shit when he sees you like this.”
“Ginny,” said Hermione warningly. She didn’t want to talk about Ron.
“What?” she exclaimed defensively. “I’ll never understand why he let you go.”
He didn’t. Hermione and Ron decided – together – that they were better off friends than lovers. “It was a mutual decision.”
However, that didn’t stop Ron from acting like a prat from time to time and getting jealous of Hermione.
“Yeah, my brother is an idiot.”
Hermione laughed at how little it took Ginny to start roasting her brothers – especially Ron.
“Now, never mind Ron, let’s go before Harry runs out of patience and decides to come for us.”
As much as she hated these balls, it didn’t prevent her from dressing as chic as possible. She didn’t have many occasions to dress up fancily so she took the opportunity to flatter herself a little.
The gown she chose to wear was deep blue with subtle sparkles scattered all over the tulle skirt. The corset hugged her torso perfectly and the low V-cut neckline accentuated her bosom.
She felt sexy in it. And she was looking to draw a particular wizard’s attention with it.
The ballroom was crowded – filled with polite yet insincere smiles and inane chatter. She tried to avoid talking to people as she approached the table assigned to them. Neville, Ron and Luna were already sitting and talking to each other animatedly. Ginny and Harry also took their seats right after her.
“I hate these balls!” Hermione protested while she sat down.
“Stop complaining like a child!” snapped Ginny. Harry snickered next to them. “It’s always the same,” he said. “Every year we drag you here, and every year you complain until you get your first dance.”
Hermione felt her ears burn as she blushed deeply. She never noticed before that she stopped complaining after she had danced with him . “It has nothing to do with the dance,” she tried to defend herself. “It’s because by the time I have my first dance, I realize you stopped listening to my complaints.”
“Sure,” Neville said, smirking. When did he learn to smirk like that? “It has nothing to do with the dance or your dance partner.”
Oh . Was she that obvious? She needed to rectify that. She could actually feel Ron’s eyes burning holes to her side as she fidgeted in her chair.
She sent a nasty glare in Neville’s direction. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Neville chuckled softly in response.
Then, thankfully, the topic of the conversation shifted to something else and Hermione busied herself with watching the room. Ron attempted to talk to her and compliment her looks a few times but she knew things could escalate if she allowed him to go further so she shot his attempts down.
It didn’t take her long to find the man she had been looking for since she arrived. He was trying to hide in a corner, scowling at people who dared to approach him. Hermione snorted involuntarily at seeing him in his usual mood.
His elegant black dress robes clung to his decently-toned frame. He even made an effort on his hair as it didn’t look greasy at all. She had to admit he looked dashing. Sexy.
His black eyes glazed over the ballroom and settled on her, making her heart rate go up. The intensity of his gaze took her breath away. He raised his champagne glass subtly in salute and Hermione responded with her own glass. She saw the small quirk on his lips before he turned away.
“Is there a handsome wizard that catches your eye, Hermione?” asked Ginny.
“Ginny,” Hermione growled. Her friend seemed unable to let go of Hermione’s ‘single status’ as she made it her mission to find Hermione a wizard. She saw from the corner of her eye that Ron tensed up. “No,” she said sharply, glaring at Ginny.
“Come on,” the ginger replied, pushing forward. “It’s time to end your chronic loneliness.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m not lonely.” And it was true. She was not.
Neville butted in. “You’ve been single for seven years.”
“Not you too, Neville!” she protested. “I’m happy the way things are, okay? I don’t need to find some wizard.” Her tone indicated the end of the topic.
Finally, as all the guests arrived, the opening dance was led by Kingsley and his wife. Other couples started to join soon after.
“He is coming for your customary first dance,” whispered Neville into Hermione’s ear. She looked up to see Professor Snape striding towards her with confident steps. He looked into her eyes, ignoring everyone else at the table. Slightly owing his head, he held out his hand.
“Would you do me the honour, Ms Granger?”
Hermione’s insides started to swarm with anticipation. She was the only one who ever noticed the slight difference between Ms from Miss when he addressed her. She smiled politely and placed her hand in his. “Please, lead the way, Professor.”
It was their small tradition to dance to the first song at every ball they attended together. It had been initiated by him the first time, seven years ago, and they had never missed a strike in all these years. They only ever danced to one song – to Hermione’s great disappointment – but it was enough to make her happy every time.
Power radiated off of him and Hermione was mesmerized by his musky scent mixed with herbs. The way he carried himself with such gracefulness always sent shivers down her spine, making the muscles on her lower belly tighten. The way his hand held hers burned her with growing passion, putting every nerve in her body on edge.
When they positioned themselves to start dancing, the intense desire in his eyes was almost overwhelming her senses. He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Hermione pressed her body slightly to his, not being able to resist his allure, like a moth drawn to light. The slight caress of his fingers on her back was almost her undoing. She couldn’t help the whimper leaving her parted lips. The smug smirk on his face told her just how much he was aware of the effect he had on her.
“How is your evening going, Ms Granger?” he drawled. Hermione tried very hard not to whimper this time as his deep silky voice sent pleasurable tingles into her body.
“Adequate,” she replied, trying to keep a steady voice and failing miserably. “How is yours?”
“Horrendous,” came his reply.
Hermione laughed. She loved how he hated these balls as much as she did – if not more. “I’m not a big fan of these balls either.”
“I’m aware,” he said, his voice going even deeper.
This time she couldn’t stop the shiver. Oh. The things his voice did to her.
His smirk grew to a self-satisfied smug look. As the song drew closer to its end, he bent his head down, moving his mouth closer to her ears. His breath tickled Hermione’s cheek softly, making her body heat go up. “Have a nice evening, Ms Granger,” he whispered and Hermione couldn’t reply as the closeness of his body to her and the warmth of his breath consumed her whole. At the last beat of the song, Severus took a step back and left her, going back to his corner of the ballroom. Hermione felt the loss immediately and the desire to seek his touch heightened within her.
Going back to her friends was difficult as she wanted nothing but to be in his arms again.
“You enjoyed touching the greasy git, then?” asked Ron nastily as she took her seat.
Anger started to flow through her veins as she balled her hands into fists to prevent herself from reaching for her wand. “There is only one git in this room, Ronald, and let me inform you that it’s not Professor Snape.”
Ron blushed as his face morphed into anger. Ginny saw the coming explosion and stood from her seat. “Let’s go outside, Ron!” she half shouted. Ron didn’t even look in his sister's direction but Ginny somehow managed to drag him out of his chair.
“I think he is jealous,” Neville started slowly, “because he thinks Snape fancies you.”
Her head snapped up to Neville, her blood running cold this time. “What?”
Neville opened his mouth but Luna answered her across the table. “It’s just the way he looks at you,” she said. “It’s like he hasn’t eaten in days and you’re the most delicious food in the world.”
Hermione gaped at her friends. Did they really think that?
“And—” Neville added, taking advantage of her stunned silence. “—you’re the only person other than Minerva that he dances with.
“Don’t be absurd!” Hermione said. She was having difficulty breathing.
Neville just shrugged in response and Luna turned back to watching the ceiling to observe some obscure made-up creature.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Hermione announced and took off.
She cast her eyes down to avoid talking to anybody as her feet carried her to the bathroom. She was about to push the door open when someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her to a dark corner. Her wand was in her hand in an instant. The spell she was about to cast died on her lips when she caught the musky scent. A low whisper tingled in her ear. “It’s me.”
Relaxing instantly, she turned in his arms to immediately lose herself in the deep black pools she loved dearly.
“You scared me, Severus.”
He looked sheepish. “I’m sorry, my love.”
She smiled sweetly, rising on her toes and kissing him gently on the bottom of his chin. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” he replied. “Tell me what the idiot did to make you so flustered.”
Hermione frowned as she remembered Ron’s words. “It’s just him running his mouth as usual, nothing worth telling.”
Severus raised an eyebrow, clearly wanting to press the issue but Hermione reached one of her fingers to his eyebrows and smoothed them.
“But—” she said, “—it has come to my attention that some people have noticed the way you look at me. They’re becoming suspicious, I think.”
Now, he raised the other eyebrow. “Who?”
“Neville and Luna,” she replied. “And I’m pretty sure Harry started to notice some things too.”
“Longbottom and Potter?” he asked bewildered. “The Boy Wonder and Longbottom?”
Hermione sent him a glare. “Be nice, Severus, they are my friends.”
“Well you have the worst taste in people,” he said, jokingly. “Look who you’re married to.”
“I married an amazing man, I’ll have you know,” she said defensively, her face flushed with fierceness.
Severus reached for her lips and captured them for a few seconds before releasing them with a sigh. She liked to lose herself in her husband’s arms. A little more than seven years ago, she wouldn’t have believed that she could be so happy with Severus Snape of all people/
Right after the war, Hermione had gone back to retrieve her parents from Australia and the Granger family had returned to their home in London to find a group of escaped Death Eaters there, waiting to take revenge on the ‘Mudblood friend of Harry Potter’. Severus had been the person to respond to her call for help and the sole reason her parents were still alive. In order to show her gratitude, Hermione had thrown herself into Severus’s case with the Wizangamot and she had made sure – with the help of Harry – he was exonerated of all charges against him. During this whole process, they had formed a tentative friendship first, and a relationship later. They were still going strong after all these years.
“Do you want to tell them?” he asked, slightly troubled.
Oh, yes, there is a slight problem with our relationship . None of her friends knew they had been together for seven years, let alone married. When they first got together, they had decided to hide their relationship to protect Severus’s already fragile and controversial reputation in the Wizarding World. Later, they had just kept it that way because they enjoyed being away from people’s prying eyes. The only people who knew about their marriage were Kingsley – who officiated their marriage, her parents – who would have killed her if she had gotten married without their knowledge, and Minerva – who would do the same to Severus as Hermione’s parents. They were truly happy with the way things are.
She bit her lip, watching Severus cast his eyes to her lips with hunger in his eyes. “Not necessarily,” she replied hesitatingly. “We’ve been so happy like this for years. I think I’m used to the comfort it provides us. But soon we may not have a choice.” Her friends were growing way too suspicious for her liking.
Severus nodded. “The only person I care about already knows about us. So the decision is up to you. I’m alright with anything you decide.”
Hermione tightened her hold on him. He was more compassionate and understanding than she could have ever guessed prior to knowing him. She knew he must have hated the idea of the backlash they were most likely to receive if they announced their marriage to her friends now.
“We’ll talk about it further when we’re home,” she said. They needed a more detailed and well-thought-out discussion.
“Yes,” he replied. “When we are leaving?” He whispered the last part into her ear, his voice sultry. Hermione tried to not get distracted by the desire pooled between her thighs. “Let’s go now,” he said with his most seductive voice, grabbing her bum.
“We have to stay a bit longer. Don’t be impatient.”
“It’s your fault,” he said, “If you hadn’t worn this damned perfect dress, driving me crazy all night, I would probably have had more patience before I could devour you.”
Hermione smirked deviously. She had chosen this specific dress because she knew how much he loved it. “If you can behave for half an hour, I promise you, there will be no sleeping tonight.”
With that, she stepped back and whispered “I love you,” while she retreated to the ballroom. Severus watched her go, hungrily, his eyes full of promises of a passionate night – or two.