Characters are property of J.K. Rowling and the Harry Potter Universe. Thankfully, she allows me to borrow them for a bit of fun.

A Lesson in Cabbages and Gobstones

...

Hermione Granger was on her knees in one of the dusty storerooms of Prince and Pestle looking for a missing crate of Chinese Chomping Cabbages. Illuminated wand in hand, she moved through the cramped space, examining the labels plastered across the slats as she went. When she had agreed to follow Severus Snape from Hogwarts to earn a Mastery certification in Potions, she had not imagined it would involve crawling through the bowels of an aged shop in Hogsmeade.

"You wanted practical experience," she told herself as she scooted along on the seat of her denims. "You certainly got it."

...

Severus had decided to leave Hogwarts shortly after agreeing to supervise Hermione's formal training, and only through her incessant pestering and the unfortunate hiring of a Ministry Potioneer named Hubert Hornbuckle—whom Severus found incompetent, if not entirely useless—did he allow her to tag along.

As she crawled along batting cobwebs out of her face, Hermione remembered how tedious the adjustment had been for them both. Severus was clearly not accustomed to having someone underfoot all the time, and she had not been prepared to deal with his perpetually foul disposition.

Even so, they had somehow managed to endure.

...

Two years had passed since Severus had decided to open up shop for himself, and she was only six months shy of going before a panel of witches and wizards from Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers for consideration. Hermione could not deny that she had learned a great deal from the man, but despite that fact, she failed to see how fetching ingredients from a dark crawl space would make her appreciate the subtle science involved.

"Like he would do this if he didn't have an understudy…" she griped as she wriggled between two large boxes. "He'd summon the thing…"

...

On the other side of the boxes, Hermione stopped to survey the newest section of the cellar. She had never managed to make it this far back until now, especially since Snape kept the more commonly used ingredients near the entrance. This section was just as dark and just as cramped, and exactly as in the previous sections, there was not a single head of Chinese Chomping Cabbage.

"Where else, Granger? The cellar, of course…" Hermione told the dank darkness, trying her level best to imitate the gruff inflection Severus had used not minutes before. "In the cellar my arse…"

...

Hermione sat in the dark crawl space, debating the pros and cons of giving up and allowing Severus to fetch his cabbages for himself, completely unaware of the large and fiercely territorial rat running along the support beams overhead. The beast sprang from above, narrowly missing her head on its descent, and bounced off the floor.

Out of fright or instinct—Hermione was not sure in the heat of the moment—she launched a stunning jinx at the rodent, blasting it airborne. The startled rat toppled end over end before landing supine atop a box, its lifeless eyes fixed on its assailant.

Seconds later Severus's voice rang down through the ceiling, his voice agitated. "What in God's name are you doing down there?"

...

"I might've killed a rat, I think," she called back. Hermione poked the limp rat with her wand, which was apparently all it needed regain consciousness. The unfortunate thing jumped up on all fours and scurried away with a squeal into the safety of the shadows. "Oh, thank heavens. I didn't kill it after all."

"Hermione, enough with the blasted rat!"

"Alright, alright…" she answered, feeling a convenient lie take shape. "I've only just found your cabbages."

...

Fortunately for Hermione it was not a lie after all.

In her haste to determine the condition of the silly rat, she had not noticed the contents of the crate that had broken the poor thing's landing.

"Aha! Found you." Hermione gave the crate a triumphant smack, disrupting not only the dust atop but the cabbages as well. Several of the densely-leaved plants released a rather puny snarl and tried to nip halfheartedly at her fingers between the wooden slats. "Now to get you back out of this hole."

She would not emerge with the crate for another seven minutes.

...

"What took so long?" Severus had not even bothered to turn as he spoke, his head bent inches from the potions reference he was reading.

The crate hit the floor with a loud thunk.

"The state of your materials is what." Hermione hoped he would not be able to detect how slightly out of breath she was from the endeavor nor the cobwebs that had hitched a ride in her curls. "A person could lose their way in that mess of a storeroom."

Severus finally looked up and his expression one that carried all the sweetness of soured milk. "Clearly."

...

Hermione felt her face redden, and she turned to open the crate before he could find satisfaction. You walked right into that one, she admitted silently as she pried the lid off.

"How many of these do you need?" Hermione asked, eager to draw his attention elsewhere.

"One."

"Why didn't you say you only needed one, Severus Snape?" She snatched one of the cabbages from the crate, slamming it on the table. The produce whined in protest as it rolled downside up.

"You never asked, Hermione Granger," he replied, examining the vegetable. "And for the best. This one is spoiled."

...

"You clearly said cabbages not cabbage. There is a difference." Severus gave her a vexed look, and she quickly changed course again. "That point aside, I think they all might be a touch off."

Hermione picked up another head cabbage at random, and as if on cue, the wilted vegetable she held gave a sputtered heave in her hands, a purple leafy tongue dropping out of its presumed mouth. That is absolutely disgusting. She dropped the dying, green-grey plant back into the crate. "This was a complete waste of time. I don't suppose you have any more stashed away?"

"No." Severus drew his wand, and the defective produce, crate and all, disappeared. "That was the last of it in the shop."

...

And this is why I should do the inventory, Hermione almost said but supposed that would only put him in a worse mood. "We could try Dogweed and Deathcap," she suggested instead, giving the workroom clock a quick check. It was nearing midnight. "They won't be open at this hour, obviously. We'll have to wait until morning."

Severus went back to his cauldron, paying her suggestion no mind. "If I wait until morning the potion will be inadequate."

"Planning on Apparating across continents for a head of cabbage?" Hermione shot him a

skeptical look and plopped herself atop a nearby stool. "That is dedication, even for you."

"Don't be absurd." Severus cast a sideways glance in her direction and extinguished the flame beneath the cauldron. "I should have everything we need at home. The potion will have to be finished there."

...

"We're going to Spinner's End?" Hermione's voice was thick with disbelief.

Severus fixed her with a look, then turned away to siphon the partially completed potion into a few large phials. "Is that a problem for you?"

She tried to hide her sudden surprise. "No, of course not. It's just that you've never invited me into your private lab."

"See that you don't make me regret it," he replied after a moment, and Hermione could have sworn she saw his lips curl a fraction of an inch upward.

It might have been a smile had it belonged to anyone else.

"We have ten minutes to get these over flame again." Severus stoppered the final phial, stowed it in his satchel, then seized Hermione's hand. "Don't let go, Granger. I haven't the time to put you back together."

...

Half a breath later, Hermione's feet connected awkwardly with the floor of Severus's parlor and she lurched forward to catch her balance.

"I've heard putting one's head between the knees helps with vertigo," she heard Snape suggest, his tone heavy with amusement.

"Thank you," Hermione managed to grind out, righting herself and her hair. "I'm fine, though a simple warning would have been appreciated."

"Right." Severus cleared his throat and turned for the staircase. "The lab is this way, and be wary of the steps. They're steep."

"Duly noted." She smiled in spite of herself and his sarcasm. "After you"

...

Hermione descended the stairs, and the cellar quickly came into view. As cluttered as it was dim, she could see the outline of a heap that stood nearly as tall as the ceiling. There were all manner of boxes, some covered with tarps while others were haphazardly closed with tape.

"What is all of that stuff?" she asked before she could control her curiosity.

Severus Snape had never been known for having patience, and he certainly had none for those who pried. That in mind, it came as quite a shock when he simply said, "What's left of my childhood."

...

Severus said nothing else as he led her toward a closed door standing on the other side of the room. The door swung open of its own volition, revealing a room that could not have been more different than its counterpart. Whereas the previous room looked as if there had been a cyclone inside, the lab could not have been more immaculate.

Hundreds of ingredients sat in clearly-labeled containers that had been meticulously organized and obsessively maintained. Each bottle, each phial and each instrument had its proper place and it was obvious that their owner made sure they stayed there.

...

"Do remember to breathe," Severus said. "I'd rather not have to dispose of a body tonight if I can help it."

Hermione was abruptly reminded that she was standing with her mouth agape. "I'm sorry, but this is impressive. How long did it take you to build this collection?"

"Longer than you've been alive." He shouldered past her, heading toward a large work table.

She followed him, intently glancing at the shelves as she passed. "I'd believe that. You've created quite the workspace."

"Work being the keyword," Severus was quick to say, a touch impatient. "We've plenty to do, remember?"

...

All she wanted to do was peruse the shelves, but she relented nonetheless. "Right, what do you need me to do?"

"The copper cauldrons are over there." Severus handed her the phials from his satchel, and stalked away. "Fetch one, and put those over high heat. I'll be back momentarily."

She did as she was told, and Severus disappeared through another adjoining door. Several loud bangs and thumps later, he returned with a Chomping Cabbage under his arm and an obscenely long knife in his hand.

Hermione balked at the knife. "It's a vegetable for goodness sake. Not a dragon."

...

Severus regarded the knife for a moment and shrugged. "They put up less of a fight when they're chopped in half."

He had not been wrong about that. With one fell swoop the cabbage had been reduced to half-shredded fodder.

"The cabbage is the final binding agent for the bruising balm," he told her as he carefully selected the leaves to be added to the mortar. "Once added to the mixture, we'll have an hour of uninterrupted simmering."

"That's plenty of time to have a look around," Hermione hinted, smiling at him for good measure.

Severus sighed. "If you must."

...

Hermione was out of her seat before he had managed to grind the first leaf to paste, heading for the large bookcase containing a plethora of tomes. They had ensnared her interest above everything, with their cracked spines and unknown titles. She removed a particularly ancient-looking volume and leafed carefully through its brittle pages before replacing it.

Suddenly, Hermione's eye was caught by something that seemed out of place in a house belonging to Severus Snape. She took the mahogany box with wrought iron hinges from the shelf and opened it. "I never figured you for a Gobstones player, Severus."

...

Severus spun around in a fashion that would have set his cloak to flapping had he been wearing it. "What are you talking about?"

Hermione snapped the lid shut and pointed the box at him to punctuate the words. "You have a Gobstones set tucked between your books."

"That doesn't belong in here," he told her, frowning. "Put it in the other room with the rest of the storage."

"No," she said, the notion of simply casting it aside seeming tragically unfair. "I think I'd like to play."

Severus gave her a genuinely curious look. "Have you lost your mind?"

...

"I can see no reason not to play."

"Because it's a child's game, perhaps? " Severus's frown deepened, and he made to turn away. "Besides I have work to finish."

"You said it yourself the next brewing phase takes an hour of uninterrupted simmering. We have time," she insisted. When he looked as though he would have liked to protest, Hermione tossed the box in his direction.

Severus snatched it out of the air before it tumbled to the ground and scowled.

"You and I both need a break," she said. "Besides, I've never played and would like to learn."

...

That seemed to catch his attention, and for a moment he almost looked as though he was considering the idea. "After all your years at Hogwarts, you have never played?

"I watched others play, but never played myself," she admitted, and when his face took on an amused expression she frowned. "What? I was busy."

Severus studied her for a moment, his head cocked to the side. "Busy or awful?"

"Busy, I can assure you. Like you said, it's a child's game. How hard could it be?"

"If it were easy, more people would do it," Severus said.

...

Hermione scoffed. "That is your response for nearly everything, potions and Gobstones alike."

"Only when it's the truth," Severus replied, turning toward an unused table. With one sweep of his wand, its size tripled to accommodate their game.

"You are comparing potions to Gobstones?" She asked.

"In a sense," Severus answered. Hermione watched as he began to dislodge the various spheres from the case one by one. "They both require concentration and a fair amount of skill, neither of which can be taught. They're innate gifts, those qualities."

"That shouldn't be too difficult, then."

He nearly smiled outright at that.

...

When the playing circle was spelled upon the table, Hermione was beginning to believe she would soon receive more than she bargained for. Severus placed each stone in what she presumed to be the right spot, sometimes adjusting one this way and that before he was satisfied.

It was oddly nerve-racking, but fascinating all the same.

"You seem to know your way around a Gobstone table," she observed.

"I have done this a few times." Severus checked the clock hanging in the work room. "We have a little less than fifty minutes. I'll go first; to show you how, of course."

...

"My stones are red, yours are green, understand?" Hermione nodded, and Severus continued. "The key to the game is to obviously knock the opponent's stones from the circle. If you move your stones too quickly, you risk losing what could be an invaluable asset further along in the game." He flicked one of his stones lightly, and it rolled a few inches toward a green stone belonging to Hermione. "Your move, Granger."

"This seems easy enough." Hermione struck the stone closest to her as hard as her thumb would allow. It spiraled toward one of Severus's but missed it entirely.

...

Severus shook his head. "How unfortunate, though I can't say that I am surprised. Subtlety has never been a strong suit of yours."

"You missed as well," Hermione was quick to remind him.

"On the contrary, I never meant to hit a single stone belonging to you." Severus selected another gobstone, one directly in the center of his playing area, and gave it a small push to the right. It rolled directly between two of her stones and stopped. "It's all about planning and solid strategy."

"How much strategy can honestly be involved?"

"More than you care to acknowledge, clearly."

...

"For instance," Severus continued, "if you try to target that stone I just moved, you run the risk of knocking your own stones from the board. That would not be a wise move on your part."

"Because I would be down a playing stone, right?"

Severus nodded. "When they're gone, they're gone. It's easy to disadvantage yourself early on, especially if you're inexperienced."

Hermione gave one of her stones a nudge. The thing barely moved, and she frowned. "This game shouldn't be this difficult."

"As I said, the skills can't be taught."

"And I suppose it comes naturally to you?"

...

"My mother was the Gobstone captain at Hogwarts." Severus moved strategically around the table to examine the playing surface. After a few moments of bending and inspecting he decided on a large stone containing viscous red goo and gave it a hard flick. It connected expertly with a green stone some distance away, sending it out of the playing zone and toward Hermione. "It is safe to say it runs in my blood," he admitted as the green stone began to spew.

As per the rules of the game, the green eruption splattered over Hermione's front in a steady stream.

...

"This is a new shirt, Severus Snape!" Hermione held the fabric away from her body, lest the green muck bleed through onto her skin. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Severus shrugged, not bothering to hide the beginnings of a smile curling the corners of his mouth. "Oops."

Annoyance taking over, Hermione picked up a red stone and hurled at him. It bounced off his chest, only to land at his feet. The closest stone belonging to her erupted green.

"Cheating results in a point deduction and subsequent sliming."

"You're hilarious," she snapped. "You could have told me that."

...

Retrieving her wand, Hermione recited a simple siphoning spell that should have cleared away the slime. When it remained, even after the third attempt, she gave Severus a sharp glare. "Is this some sort of joke?"

"This particular set of stones has a special disadvantage," he replied.

She had scant knowledge of Gobstones and its various rules and forms, but it did not take her long to figure out exactly the special disadvantage was.

"You complete arse. The liquid can't be removed until game play ends, can it?"

"Unless you intend to take the shirt off entirely, I'm afraid not."

...

Hermione had not expected to hear the touch of suggestion in the statement, least of all from him. She looked away, her face reddening at the thought.

Severus laughed at that.

It was a deep, guttural sound that caused her stomach to clench, though she could not decide if it was nerves or something far more visceral. When she ventured another look at him, his face was perfectly indifferent, but his eyes gave him away. He was waiting for a reaction.

He is testing me, Hermione thought, only to have an idea come to her, brazen as it was foolish.

...

As if on their own accord, Hermione's fingers went to the buttons and one by one she unfastened them. The ruined shirt slid from her shoulders and pooled on the floor at her feet, revealing a white, sleeveless, cashmere undershirt.

The garment was nothing of spectacular fashion, but it was revealing with its deep neckline.

Severus's tongue darted out from between his lips to wet them, an involuntary action and hardly perceptible, but it sent a mixture of elation and satisfaction through her nonetheless.

She smiled, surprised at her own boldness and his reaction. "I do believe it's your move."

...

Severus appraised her for a moment, the ghost of a smile playing across his features. After a fleeting glance at the table, he gave his shooting stone a hard flick with his forefinger and thumb and it barreled forward with enough force to strike one of hers, sending it to teeter on the edge of the spelled circle.

"Do not tempt me." He looked up at her, smiling. It was not exactly a leer, but it was enough to cause her breath to hitch in her throat. "You're out of your league, and you're running out of clothes to discard."

...

"Well, perhaps you should actually teach me how to play instead of just having your way with me."

The regret of having said the words was immediate. The double entendre had not been obvious in her mind, but as it hung suspended between them there was no escaping it.

"It is your form," Severus said, taking pity on her.

"My form?"

"Yes." His eyes raked over her body, and he shook his head. "With your body type you should be lithe."

"I'm afraid I don't under—"

"For God's sake," he said, rolling his eyes. "Hush, and let me show you."

...

"This is right." She could feel his arm snake down hers to guide the placement of her wrist, but was hardly cognizant of anything else. "Right there…"

"Like this?"

He was directly behind her now, one hand on her wrist the other bracing himself on opposite side of the table. "You're too rigid. Loosen up so the motion is fluid."

That was the understatement of the century.

Hermione relaxed a little only to feel his breath glance across her shoulder left exposed by the sleeveless undershirt she wore. "Further," he said and leaned forward, pressing against her back. "Like this."

...

"What do you see?" Severus asked. He had to have been right next to her ear. Hermione could almost feel his mouth moving against the line of her jaw as he spoke. "Can you visualize it? Can you see how the moves will play out?"

"I… yes..." She heard the words come out of her mouth, but her thoughts were trained on his close proximity.

"Show me." This time there was no mistaking it, no denying the slight touch of his lips upon her jaw as his mellifluous voice crept into her thoughts. "Show me what you want to happen."

...

"Teach me," Hermione whispered, as though the words were clandestine.

"Teach you?" Severus pulled her upright, brushing the hair from her shoulder. His fingers lingered on the thin straps of her shirt. "Was I not?"

"I want you to show me," Hermione continued, feeling his hand move from the table to a loop in her denims. "I want to do it right the first time."

"As you wish, but you have to do as I say." There was a mischievous turn to his voice that had not been there before. It was enough to make her head spin.

...

"Don't move unless I tell you," Severus warned. His right hand was suddenly over hers, and the left hand was guiding her other to the edge of the table, locking it firmly in place. "Concentration is everything. Without it, there is no need to even attempt this." He bent down, and whispered into her ear. "Are you concentrating?"

All she could manage was a nod, but apparently, it was enough. "Form is key. Bend with me," he said as he used his torso to lay hers nearly upon the table. "Your line of sight should be level with the field."

...

"Is it not a foul to lie on the table?" She had only said it in jest, but Severus took it for it was: A chance to prove a point.

His left hand moved from hers, sliding across the table's edge until it was between her stomach and the table itself. "Do you feel my touch?"

"That depends on where I'm supposed to feel it."

Severus raised an eyebrow at that, allowing a single finger to trace along the edge of her denims. "I was referring to here."

Hermione tensed, the air abruptly expelling from her lungs. "I can now."

...

"Minimal space between the body and the playing table is the sign of good form, especially at the professional level." Severus suddenly plucked upward on her zipper, and she jerked, her backside brushing against his pelvis. "Enough space to fit a finger, maybe two. Don't forget that."

Hermione forced her eyes shut, a futile attempt to slow the droning thump of her pulse in her ears. "Right, two fingers."

"By keeping the body as close to the playing table without touching you minimize what?"

His words went in one ear and out the other, the question lost in the moment.

...

"Come now…" he whispered, inching closer to her ear as he spoke. "This should be easy for you."

A tiny little sound erupted from Hermione's lips, a cross between a sigh and something far more salacious.

"That's not the right answer, unfortunately." The words slid over her like satin, and she could feel her body respond against her better judgment. "It's to prevent error. To make the motions more controlled, more deliberate. You can clearly see what you are capable of doing, and if you are skilled enough, you can detect your opponent's weaknesses and use them to your benefit."

...

Severus stood at full height, the hand that previously found Hermione's zipper splayed flat on her back. "Are you comfortable standing like this?"

Hermione did not completely trust herself to say something coherent, so she said nothing, choosing instead to nod. At that, his hand slipped further down her back, and the other still resting on her right hand moved to her shoulder. "This position gives you proper access to the playing field. It should be comfortable, easy to repeat again and again as the game progresses. It should become second nature, innate for those who enjoy play regularly."

...

Severus walked around the table and stopped directly across from her. Hermione's eyes followed him every step, watching as he shed his outer jacket and tossed it across the back of a chair. He regarded her carefully, unwaveringly, his index finger stroking his lower lip as though lost deep in thought.

"Come here," he said finally. "Get into position."

Hermione's stomach took a roll forward. It was difficult to tell if the flutter was out of nervousness or excitement. "And if I can't?"

There was an unmistakable yet deliberately wicked gleam to his eyes. "Then I shall show you again."

...

Hermione walked around the table, highly aware of his calculated stare. One hand on the table's edge and the other extended as though about to play a stone, she stooped over the playing surface, edging as close to the table as possible without touching. After a few moments she stilled her movements.

He was behind her again, appraising her efforts. "Almost. There is one issue."

The question was on the tip of her tongue, but Severus placed his palm on the inside of her thigh, moving her leg a fraction of an inch before she could ask. "This is balanced."

...

His hand inched slowly upward before he moved it entirely and stepped back. "We'll only need two stones for this exercise," he went on, and all but two of the spheres floated back into the case. "I want you to claim my final piece, the red stone."

"Claim it?"

"Take control, prevent me from gaining the upper hand." He flashed an arrogant look, one that was meant to addle, if not entice, and Hermione hesitated.

"Don't squander my indulgence." His voice was quiet, like the waters of the Black lake, and just as dangerous. "Put me where you want me."

...

Hermione's first attempt missed by a mile, and the green gobstone shot off the edge of the table. She watched as Snape retrieved it, a look of victory flashing across his features.

"Strike one," he deadpanned, placing the stone back in its spot. "Two more and you're mine."

Ignoring him and the wayward heat that crept across her face, Hermione gave the stone a strong, solid flick. It missed again, though only by a few inches.

Severus was suddenly at her ear, his breath hot as he whispered. "What a pity, though it's almost as if you want to lose."

...

"You're cheating."

Severus looked momentarily scandalized, then his arms curled around her waist. He pulled her around, and Hermione unexpectedly felt her feet leave the ground and her bottom connect with the surface of the table as he sat her down again. "What if I am?"

Hermione tried to answer, but Severus's fingers clamped down on her hips, and he drew her toward him

She forgot the thought entirely.

One hand migrated down her thigh where it hooked behind her knee, drawing one of her legs around his waist. The other fisted in her hair, none too gently. "Answer me."

...

"You're afraid." Hermione did not know what compelled her to call him out, but she relished the inexplicable thrill that came as a result.

"How easily you forget to whom you are speaking." His voice was menacing, but it was his fingers knotting in her hair, exposing the hollow of her throat with a determined tug, that caused her pulse to quicken. "What, exactly, am I supposed to be afraid of?" His breath danced across her neck as he spoke, and she shivered. "Surely you can't mean yourself."

"You are afraid of losing," she challenged. "You can't stand the thought."

...

"Oh, my dear," Severus said. There was a sudden, fleeting softness to his features as he tilted his chin, his lips coming within dangerous distance of hers. "You are delusional."

A single finger ran over the line of her jaw and down her neck before deliciously, agonizingly retracing its path.

It was all Hermione could do, caught between the strange combination of stimulation and bravado, to suppress the mewling cry bubbling in her throat. She grasped tenuously to what was left of her self-control, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him.

"Say it..." Severus hissed. "Yield to me."

...

Something inside of her snapped at the look of calculation and cunning that swept across his face.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She sounded short of breath even to her own ears; it was not likely to go unnoticed by him.

Severus lowered the hand still knotted in her hair, bringing her head down with it. Then his mouth was on the side of her neck, nipping languidly at the sensitive flesh.

Hermione's heart lurched, all of the blood rushing to it in one adrenaline-fueled burst, and she bit down hard on her lip, tasting blood, to muffle a cry.

...

His mouth left her neck, and she openly moaned like some shameless tart, desperate for him to continue.

"What's this?" Severus mused, and as if it were some perverse experiment, he bit down on her neck again. This time it was hard enough to leave a mark.

The delicious ache between her thighs increased tenfold, and she wrapped her other leg around his waist, fighting the urge to undulate her pelvis against his groin.

"Ah, it appears I've struck a nerve."

"Bastard…"

His head dipped again, coming to rest above the valley between her breasts. "Shall I strike it again?"

...

The game was forgotten after that, their stones and inhibitions cast aside like forgotten trinkets.

Everything going on around them was unimportant, and therefore disappeared. In the corner, the potion which they had went to such great lengths to brew spoiled, but neither potioneers paid that any mind.

The two of them gave in to their passions, each being a weakness to the other, and as the sounds of prurience and table legs scraping across the floor echoed indecently off the walls, they could not have cared less that both stones, red and green alike, had tumbled to the floor.

Author's Notes: First and foremost, I need to thank three people. The first being Teddy Radiator for providing a fantastic prompt during the SSHG Newbie Fest. This story was written for her. Secondly and thirdly are Thorned Huntressand Meladara who not only listened to me whine when the words wouldn't work, but were also there to share in the delight when they did. This shines because of them.

Of course, there are all of you. I want to thank, from the bottom of my little depraved heart, those of you follow every single story, review every single chapter, and are just generally awesome human beings. Happy reading to you, and as always, reviews are welcomed and greatly appreciated.

Teddy Radiator's prompt: Severus and Hermione have been working together amicably, but something wild and passionate erupts between them one night. What is it, what do they do about it, and what is the aftermath of it?