A/N: This is my entry in the Hermione Smut Fest on Live Journal. Make sure to head on over there and show them your love. Lots of wonderful entries, all starring your favourite bookworm.

I own nothing except the story. The characters are all JK's, I am merely playing in her sandbox.

A big heartfelt thank you to araeofsomething my beta and gloryandfame for her eyes and ears.

Without further ado...

The old rusty bell chimed as she entered the dark shop at the end of the alley. The small apothecary was dark and musty with the smell of dying or dead things kept in mason jars. Herbs and other plants hung from the rafters and the termite eaten wood creaked beneath her loafers. The clank of the door closing startled her for a moment before she straightened her coat and remembered who she was and why she was here.

She moved as silently as she could through the small aisles of the store looking for the ingredients she needed for the potion. A rare and exotic text had spoken of a remedy for her malady and she hoped above all hope that she would find the elusive ingredients here. The smell of herbs and spices assaulted her senses and she was reminded of her days as a student at Hogwarts. It seemed like so long ago since she had wandered the hallowed halls of that magical place. Everything seemed so long ago to Hermione. The war had changed everyone, and not for the better in some instances.

For Hermione, she had been left with scars, both emotional and physical that would continue to haunt her to this day. Intimacy had been almost impossible. She could see the disgust in Ron's eyes as his cock went flaccid when he viewed her that first time she trembled nude in his presence. She couldn't blame him; he had been a child. He didn't know what his rejection would do to her.

In the decade since she had finished school and secured a high paying career as a private consultant for ministry muggle relations. It kept her behind the scenes and well paid. It was what she wanted but it had left her lonely.

She fingered the small sideboard, her finger lifting up the top layer of dust as she pondered her fate.

"Will you be dusting the entire shop? If so, I can fetch you a more suitable instrument." The deep voice came from behind her and she turned quickly bumping into the sideboard and then falling forward into the open arms of the shop keeper. Holding her by the elbows she froze at the contact before lifting her eyes to meet those of her former professor, Severus Snape.

"Miss Granger, what a...unexpected pleasure to see you," he smirked as he helped put her back to rights. With a wave of his hand the items that had been tipped over righted themselves on the table. Straightening his jacket he stood at his full height and looked down at her. The light from behind him kept his face hidden but she swore she almost saw his eyebrow arch at her.

"Professor, thank you, I mean, I'm sorry, you startled me," she righted herself and stepped out from in front of him and walked towards the front counter. She pulled at the collar of her turtleneck as if on instinct. Old habits die hard, she knew he couldn't see her well in the dim light of the store, she still feared his open derision.

He walked around to behind the counter, his movements as fluid as when he dominated his classroom.

"What brings you to my shop Miss Granger or have you married?" he asked as he crossed his arms and watched her openly.

She shuffled from foot to foot and nervously tucked an errant curl into the bun at the base of her neck. "It's still Granger," she said.

Severus Snape watched his former student. He could tell she was hiding something. Years of experience in subterfuge had trained him to not only hide from other but to also tell when someone was doing the same. He had not heard much about the girl after the war. He had spent a few months in hospital recovering from his injuries and another six months in prison awaiting the ministry and their decision to clear his name. Evidence presented by Kingsley and Arthur Weasley had helped clear his name, that and the living will that Dumbledore had left had made it clear that Severus Snape was always working for the Order.

The public however had not been that forgiving. He had found solace in his potions and purchased an apothecary from an old associate that was far from wizarding London. However, there was a saying that the world is a village and into his village walked one of his former students, one that didn't resemble the harridan student he once taught but instead a beautiful young woman.

Using his years of training he pressed slightly into her thoughts, just a brief caress and was surprised to see what she was there to buy. This would mean that she wished to remove something from either her person or that of another. It was highly dangerous to attempt this kind of magical balm but he could sense the desperation in her eyes as they darted from side to side in search of the needed ingredients.

"Would you like some tea Miss Granger? It isn't often that I get to see any of my former charges," he said, his voice calm and soothing. He wanted her to relax so that he could find out just what she wanted to accomplish.

He motioned with his arm to the back of the shop. She looked at him for a moment then nodded, pulling her satchel closer to her side she stepped around the glass display and followed him into his office. The shop had a loft apartment above the shop and an office behind the store. He pointed his wand to the sign at the front of the store and it switched to off. It was twilight, and knowing his clientele there would be no more for the day. It was Friday night and it usually was quiet all weekend. Most of his work was mail order except for the occasional visitor like the lovely Miss Granger.

He motioned for her to take a seat and he worked to set the kettle on. He pulled a bottle of plum brandy from his stores and infused the newly brewed tea with just a dash of the rich liquor. It was the end of autumn and the temperatures always dropped in the evening hours.

He set the steaming cup in front of her on his desk and lit the grate in the hearth. He could hear rather than see her removing her gloves to pick up the dainty cup of tea. He stoked the wood in the grate and waited for it to roar to life. Replacing the poker, he rounded his desk and took a seat across from her.

Waiting until he had seen her take a few sips of the brew he picked up his own cup and joined her. Setting his cup down, he simply watched her until she finally made eye contact with him.

He worked his finger over a particularly worn knot on the top of his desk and waited. He knew it would not take her long to say something. He had taught her for years and knew that while she might not raise her hand, a question was certainly brewing beneath the surface.

"Is this your shop?"

And there it was.

He smiled and took another drink from his cup. He had added a bit more brandy to his own cup and enjoyed the lingering smoky taste on his tongue and the warmth as it coated his throat. The colder nights meant more pain for the aging wizard. Adjusting his cravat he sat back and put his cup down.

"Yes Miss Granger, this is my shop," he said.

"It's...well, it's...interesting," she lied, trying to find something nice to say of the crumbling façade.

The office they were in was nothing like the front of the store. He allowed himself comfort and luxury in his living space. The chairs were soft leather, the carpet a dark wine color, while the desk was a rich cherry wood. It was completely at odds with the front of the store that served a purpose. The air of mystery allowed for a certain kind of discerning customer who was more than likely to pay more for his silence than the actual ingredients he sold. Others simply stayed away which served him fine. His days were mainly devoted to reading and brewing, except for today.

Today she was here.

Why was she here?

"What can I help you find Miss Granger?"

"I was just looking really, nothing in particular," she said shifting slightly in her chair. This had been a mistake, she couldn't tell him what she wanted, he would know.

He arched an eyebrow and cocked his head slightly, thinking on her response.

"I think I should go," she stood quickly and felt the effects of the tea and she swayed slightly.

"Have a seat Miss Granger; it would seem that you are what muggles call a 'lightweight' when it comes to imbibing alcohol. Tell me, have you eaten?"

She sat down hard on the soft chair and felt the whoosh of air from the soft leather. "Well I worked through lunch and just thought I would have a pot noodle when I returned home."

"So you apparated here or took a portkey?"

"I apparated twice to get here, I was told that this was..." her voice trailed off, she had said too much already. She wondered if he had infused her drink with veritaserum as well as brandy.

"That you could what Miss Granger?" he pushed, his long finger playing around the rim of his cup as he watched for her reaction.

She knew she'd been caught. She thought about lying but knew it would be futile to try and deceive someone like Snape.

"I was told this was the place that I could find ingredients that are not readily available elsewhere," she wouldn't say more.

He scoffed lightly and pursed his lips a bit as he leaned back into his chair, his arms crossing at his chest.

He was familiar with his shop's reputation which was why he was so surprised to see her. He was sure she was expecting the same surly and snarky man he had been so long ago, but he just didn't want to be that man anymore. He had gotten a new lease on life and regardless of whether the wizarding world wanted him or not he was here to stay. It had not been easy. His convalescence and incarceration had been difficult and trying. In Azkaban he had been beaten daily by those that thought him a traitor to the Dark Lord. Once outside he was spat on and ran almost completely out of town by the salacious articles in the Prophet. It didn't help that there was no use for a washed up spy or a former teacher. Hogwarts would remain closed for almost five years before it would open again. Now a decade after the final battle, there were still those trying to rebuild, Severus was just one of those poor unfortunate souls. Had it not been for his incomparable potion skills his life would have taken another route all together after the war.

Although, looking at the former student that sat across from him, he knew he was not the only one that was still trying to rebuild.

He didn't want to push her, so he returned to his initial question.

"Have dinner with me," he said as he stood.

Hermione's eyes widened at the invitation and her mouth gaped open for a moment before closing it loudly. She wondered why he would extend such an invitation.

"Ummm..." she murmured and then decided that it wouldn't be that bad to eat, if she was honest, she was hungry and maybe if she simply ate with him she could bring up the subject of what she needed to brew her balm.

Grabbing his long coat off a hook by the door he turned to her and extended his arm, "shall we go?"

"Yes," she said as she donned her gloves again and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm.

They didn't apparate; they instead walked along the deserted road outside his shop. The street lights were dim but the light of the moon was strong enough to illuminate even the darkest of corners in the old mill town. It had gotten colder and she found herself grateful for his presence next to her.

They walked for a few minutes in silence; the only sound was their steps and the occasional passing car. It had rained and the sound of the tires against the pavement was soothing to Hermione.

Hermione was just beginning to think about how long it had been since she'd walked with anyone let alone a man when he stopped walking and motioned them into an old pub. The Spanish style tavern was named La Paloma and Severus seemed at ease within its dimly lit walls.

The hostess, an older woman with long dark hair and hooped gold earrings sat them in back booth. They had a clear view of the lone guitar player than strummed his guitar amidst the clinking of glasses and the din of hushed voices from the bar patrons.

Hermione removed her gloves and her coat but made sure her sweater covered her neck at all times.

"You should really wear your hair down Miss Granger," he said nonchalantly not looking up from the menu he was perusing.

"Uh...really? I mean, it was not always my best feature, I mean, I was often told it was frizzy and unmanageable," she said as she touched the bun tentatively checking to see if it was still in place.

"That's nonsense, I would imagine that it has taken on a much more grown up look to it, go ahead, remove the pins."

She found herself obeying. She made to use her wand when he stopped her by touching his long finger to her wrist.

"No magic, use your hands," he said. His voice was low and soothing. He held her wrist for a moment, his thumb rubbing her pulse point and her breath caught in her throat.

She didn't know why, maybe years of having done so as a student had her obeying him. She dug in her thick hair bun and one by one she extracted each and every pin that held her mane in place.

"Now, run your fingers through it," he said, sipping from the glass of sangria the hostess had bought to the table, his eyes never leaving hers.

She knew what running her fingers through her hair would do and she paused for a moment.

"Go on, dig your fingers into that luscious mane and let your inner lioness free," he smiled as he bought the glass to his lips again. She blushed under his gaze and found herself digging her fingers deep into the hair at the base of her neck and feeling that delicious sensation of relaxation that only came at the end of a long day.

She closed her eyes and couldn't help the moan that escaped from her lips before recovering quickly and embarrassing herself further.

"I'm sorry," she found herself apologizing. It didn't help that Snape had not taken his eyes off her the entire time.

"Don't, it was mesmerizing," he said. His voice had taken on a rougher quality. She figured it was the wine or the smoky room.

Severus watched her as she tucked some of her free curls behind her ears and peered down at the menu in front of her. He ate here often and used the excuse of reading to properly observe her. It was obvious to him that she was not comfortable with her own body, let alone her own beauty. It was if she was unaware of just how beautiful she was.

This would not suffice.

He motioned for Elena the waitress and ordered for both of them. To his surprise Granger did not protest instead attempted to hide a small smile. It was obvious she had never been treated with any chivalry. He would remedy this as well. He didn't know why but he was intrigued with his former pupil.

Setting aside his menu he leaned in and spoke in sotto voice to his former student.

"Is there a man in your life Miss Granger? Or a woman?"

She faltered at his question and shook her head, unable to find the words to respond to his query. He'd always been direct as her professor; she wasn't surprised he was like this in his every day dealings.

"Good, I don't wish to step on any toes as they say," he said.

"I-I don't understand," she asked confused.

"I wish to wine and dine you and take you to my bed. I would hate for there to be any impediments," he said straightening up and emptying his glass.

He sat and waited. He watched as the emotions played out on her face, he could almost see the thoughts and feel her trepidation and excitement as it rolled off her in waves. The increase in the rise and fall of her chest told him he'd hit a spot. She was more than interested, she was aroused.

"It shouldn't be difficult to comprehend Miss Granger, I am a man, you are a beautiful woman, why shouldn't we drink and fuck?"

"I-I-m not that type of woman Professor...I mean Snape..."

"Severus, please call me Severus. I have often wondered what it would sound like rolling off that lovely tongue of yours," he smirked at the color that rose in her cheeks. He didn't need to read her mind to know she was titillated. He could almost smell the arousal coming off her, she was so tightly wound he wondered how she was even able to sit down.

"Whatever you want me to call you; I find your proposal indecent!"

She made to stand but his hand on her thigh stopped her, she could feel the heat radiate from where it rested.

"Don't be silly girl, you know you don't want to leave," he said. He leaned in closer to her in the booth and whispered into her ear, "I can smell the arousal coming off of you, I'm sure if I let my hand wander a little higher I would find your knickers moist with need," he finished by lightly squeezing her thigh.

His words made her falter and she sat back against the back of the booth, her breath ragged and her mind dizzy. He was right, she was intrigued by his bold proposal but she was also terrified. Surely if he saw what Ron had seen that night so many years ago, he would be just a disgusted and leave running never to be seen again.

This was a man however, a man that had seen the darkest of humanity, surely he wouldn't let some physical deformity stop him. It was now or never, she might as well take the bull by the horns.