AN: This takes place about a year and a half after the end of the war. Rating is for fade to black. It will be three short chapters, about 9K words total.

I do not own any of the characters, they belong to JK Rowling. I also may have paraphrased Trent Reznor at least once. If you spot it I will be seriously impressed.

The classroom door flew open with a bang, and Severus Snape swept inside. A quick Homenum Revelio confirmed the room was empty. He spun around in an angry blur of black robes and left the room, using his magic to pull the door shut behind him. He stalked down the dungeon corridor to the next room. This door, like the others before it, crashed open at his wandless, nonverbal command. This room, like the others, was empty.

It was not the proper way to go about searching for the two Hufflepuff fifth years who snuck out after hours, but he was more focused on venting his irritation than finding anyone. And if they were hiding out in an empty room in the dungeons, and the noise scared the little dimwits, all the better.

The non-appearance of the two boys after dinner probably would have gone unnoticed, but it was the winter holiday and most students were away from the castle. At least one who remained was either upset or bored enough to tattle on their two housemates. The staff was forced to proceed as if the students were injured or in danger until they were found, but Severus was sure the boys were up to some mischief when they thought no one would notice their absence.

As he banged the door open on yet another empty room, Severus knew he really wasn't in a position to judge, given what he was doing - and who with - when the Headmistress found him in the library not twenty minutes earlier. Of course, no one was supposed to be in the library that late. But he was a Professor, not some besotted teenager. How many times had he caught students doing the same thing? It was practically a hobby. He knew better. This search was only a temporary reprieve from having to face Minerva and formally explain himself, and he had no idea what the hell he was going to say.

"Ah, Severus!" came the voice of Professor Flitwick, accompanied by the small man's rapid steps to catch up. "Minerva asked me to let you know we found the missing students. It seems Mr. Collins decided to transfigure himself to be permanently taller, and was a bit too successful. Mr. Andrews was attempting to undo the damage, but he only managed to shorten Mr. Collins' arms. He's in the hospital wing. You should have a look, it's really quite the sight."

"Very well. Thank you Fillius," Severus said with a nod, turning to escape back to his room.

"Oh, I'm forgetting - the Headmistress asked to see you in her office. She said to wait for her and she'll be along as soon as she is done."

Severus felt his stomach sink. He had really hoped to avoid talking about what happened in the library - forever, preferably - but at least tonight. He had too much to think about after everything that was said before Minerva stumbled onto them. He couldn't focus on figuring out what to say to Minerva, when the person he really needed to see was Professor Granger.

The walk to Minerva's office took him close to the Arithmancy classroom, and he was disappointed to find it empty. Hermione Granger spent the previous school year, the first after the war ended, preparing to take her N.E.W.T.s and doing an internship with Septima Vector. At the end of the year, perhaps feeling she'd found a worthy replacement, Vector gave her notice. After a perfunctory search over the summer, Hermione was selected for the position of Arithmancy Professor. At a few weeks shy of twenty, she was the youngest person ever to become a full professor at Hogwarts. The previous record holder was Severus, who became a professor at twenty one.

If she wasn't in her classroom, did that mean she was sent to Minerva's office as well? Sodding hell, this just keeps getting better.

He shut the classroom door and continued to the Headmistress's office. When he arrived it was empty - at least of anyone living. The damn portraits were there - a few sleeping, most studying him with interest.

"Good evening, Headmaster," said Phineas Nigellus, the title he insisted on using ever since Severus held the post. Severus only glared at him, too annoyed with the whole situation to once again correct a bloody painting.

He hated being back in this room. It was where he spent so many awful hours during his year as Headmaster. It hadn't even been two years, but it seemed like a lifetime had passed since then. Initially, Severus sat in a chair in front of Minerva's desk, but that put him opposite the worst portrait of all. Dumbledore appeared to be sleeping, but Severus still didn't like looking at it. He got up and started pacing between the fire and the large lake window, a familiar path. As the minutes ticked by, he started to think Minerva left him alone there intentionally, just to torture him.

Severus knew it really shouldn't get to him. He'd experienced far worse than a chastisement from Minerva McGonagall. So why did it bother him so much? Perhaps because it was embarrassingly ordinary? No, he thought, this would be ordinary for a couple of infatuated Ravenclaws - not two professors. He realized that it really bothered him because getting caught was not something Severus Snape did, ever. And far more importantly, it bothered him because all of this was an absurd distraction when he really needed to talk to Hermione - if he could figure out what in Merlin's name to say to her.

As the minutes ticked by and he paced the floor, Severus found himself thinking back on the events that led up that night. He had no idea how this was going to end, but he knew exactly how it started.

The first time was a cliche. It was the summer after Hermione finished her N.E.W.T.s. They were at Grimmauld Place, and Potter had just formally announced his inevitable engagement to Ginevra Weasley. Severus was only there because it started as an Order meeting. He was only drinking with the others because the old house had some terribly good elvish wine, and he was certain Sirius Black would have hated the idea of Severus Snape drinking it.

Rather than engaging in the loud recounts of bravery or childhood embarrassment from various members of the Weasley family, Hermione started asking Severus about extension charms and their effect on potion ingredients. It turned into an in-depth conversation that belied the drunken revelry taking place around them. When the Weasley story telling devolved into loud singing, conversation became impossible. Severus and Hermione took their drinks and slipped out to continue their conversation in the library.

Potter must have put a refilling charm on the wine glasses he gave to his guests. As Severus and Hermione discussed different classes of ingredients and the inferior quality of Hogwarts' textbooks, they both lost track of how much wine they were consuming. In retrospect, he kept drinking because being alone with her made him slightly nervous. Perhaps she had the same problem.

They drifted from textbooks to the wizarding world's complete lack of understanding of Muggle history. Her cheeks had grown quite pink, and he knew he was talking louder than usual. They were sitting in armchairs in front of the library fireplace, their endless drinks on a table between them. She jumped up, excited to show him a ridiculously error ridden text from the Black shelves. As she retrieved the book, it was oddly endearing to watch her struggle with the complexity of walking. She sat on the arm of his chair instead of back in her own, so she could point out the most absurd passages.

In his wine muddled state, he took the book and began reading aloud from the section on Muggle transportation. "Muggle autos are powered by small rectangular boxes called 'ate-racks', which are inserted into an opening next to the steering circle," he read, causing the witch on the arm of his chair to erupt into giggles.

As he read on, the wine also encouraged him to take on an affected, pureblood accent, and Hermione's giggles increased until she was nearly in tears. It was terribly contagious, and Severus found himself smiling for the first time in an eternity.

"Some autos include harnesses attached to the seats. This is because passengers may become frightened at high speeds and must be secured to prevent them from escaping...Infants and pets are placed in a drawer across from the front seat. Elderly, or otherwise infirm adults, are locked in a large box at the back-"

"No!" she cut in, setting her drink back down with a little too much force. "It does not say that, you're making things up! I've read that page and I'd remember."

"I did not," he responded, quickly flipping to a different page. "Your memory has simply failed you."

"Where? Show me."

He glanced at the book, feigning innocence. "Oh look, I've lost the page."

"Give it to me, I'll find it," she demanded, reaching for the book, her hand sliding over his as she took it from his grasp.

He let her flip and search the pages for a moment before he confessed. "Alright, I may have made up the part about shoving grandma in the boot, but babies in glove compartments was definitely in there."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and glared, closing the book with a snap. Then she thought for a moment, shaking her head. "They really don't know about car seats? Every child rides in them, how could the author miss that entirely?"

"This book was written in the 60s, Miss Granger, they didn't have car seats then," he said as he retrieved his glass of wine from the table.

"What? Really? But how did they move small children?"

"You put them in the glove-"

"Oh stop," - she gave him a harmless swat on the arm - "you did no such thing!"

"Fine. You carried them, in your lap."

She looked horrified. "God that's even more frightening." She watched the fire, thinking for a moment. "Maybe they should have used the glovebox."

Hermione looked so serious when she said it that Severus actually laughed.

Her look of concern turned into a wide grin. "Wow, I don't think I've ever heard you laugh before."

"You haven't seen me grade papers then."

She sighed, still grinning at him. "I'd argue but I spent a lot of time grading Arithmancy papers last year - although those just made me want to cry."

"I would think you'd be accustomed to it after revising your friends' assignments."

"I didn't-"

"Of course you did," he interrupted. "I could always tell when you'd been in there."

She gave him a small shrug of admission. "And did my papers make you laugh?"

"No, I was too busy weeping over how excessively long they were."

"They were not excessive, they were thorough."

"They were swotty and pedantic."

She huffed and narrowed her eyes. "The word pedantic is pedantic."

He shook his head. "That doesn't even make sense."

"It makes plenty of sense," she insisted, setting the book on the side table.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"It...it definitely does...I just don't remember what we were talking about."

He gave her a half smile and finished his drink. He held up the glass and they both watched it refill.

The pause gave Severus a moment of clarity - when had she slid into his lap? How did he get his arm around her without realizing? Apparently she was experiencing the same thing, because an awkward silence descended as they both avoided eye contact. Severus set the cursed glass down next to hers on the side table. He moved, intending to sit up and guide her off his lap, but the damned wine decided he actually meant to pull his arm tighter around her waist. The wine must have offered her even worse suggestions, because she moved her hand to his chest and curled her fingers in the material of his frock coat. They stared at each other, frozen for one long moment, before his eyes flicked to her lips. Perhaps she was thinking the same thing, because that's when she kissed him.

It was like the moment an ingredient is added to a potion that entirely changes its fundamental nature. The contact traveled from his mouth to his spine and out to his limbs. It was a wonderful tingle that spread all the way to his fingertips - and certain other appendages. Severus didn't even consider resisting. He returned the kiss, pulling her to him completely. He tasted the wine on her lips, and had the fuzzy thought that he should drink more often, if this was the result.

She moved her hand to his shoulder, and the other to the back of his head. In a way, her touching his hair was more surprising than having her tongue in his mouth. No one ever touched his hair. Severus' hands didn't want to rest in one spot, moving from her waist to her shoulders and down her arms. When they both needed to breathe he moved his attention to her neck, eliciting exquisite little sounds from her.

Hermione ran her hands from his head to his shoulders and chest, moving in a rhythmic pawing in time with her breathing. His traitorous hands kept trying to slip under the hem of her jumper, but with some effort he was able to keep them strictly above her waist. Then she grabbed one of his hands and moved it to her chest. Well, alright then.

They went on like that, lost in each other's touch and oblivious to the outside world, until she finally slid out of his lap and pulled him up, leading him by the hand to the door. They separated as soon as they were in the hall, but there was no one around. The lack of loud singing and laughter indicated the others had gone to sleep.

Hermione moved towards the stairs and gestured silently for him to follow, but Severus shook his head. "We should both get some sleep," he whispered, ignoring how her face fell. "Goodnight, Miss Granger," he added, giving her a bow and turning to leave before he had a chance to talk himself into following her up the stairs.

Severus didn't claim any high moral standing for ending it there. He didn't care that she was weeks out from being his student, or that they would likely soon be working together. He didn't care that they were in the Black family house - if anything that was an incentive. He didn't even remember at the time that she was twenty years younger than him.

He stopped it because she was drunk, and he was certain a sober Hermione Granger would never have touched Severus Snape. She was undoubtedly just lonely. Two of her friends were getting married. She had something with the Weasley boy right after the war, but that ended sometime in the last school year. Severus was many things, but taking advantage of an inebriated girl's bad decision making was not one of them.

At least, not any more than he already had.