He let his hand wander up her back into the lovely curly mess her hair was after apparition and allowed his fingers to sink into the silkiness, cupping the back of her head and she looked utterly adorable, not understanding, it seemed, what he was planning, wanting to do.
He couldn't describe the exact feeling he had when her lips touched his for the first time but he had to close his eyes and let the sentiments overwhelm him. Had to memorise it in case she ran screaming the next second. He had to taste as much of her as he could and feel as much of her as he could and he held her tightly against him and he felt her clutching his back and opening her mouth to him. He could sense her giving into the kiss and internally, a little bit of him jumped up and down for joy and slapped his own back for kissing her — but that feeling was gone a second later, or the blink of an eye later when she put more pressure in the kiss and her tongue swept into his mouth and a sweet nothing of a sound escaped her throat.
She wanted this, he realised. Just as much as he wanted it, she wanted it and this was the wrong kind of kissing for...if there was a wrong kind of kissing and she seemed to enjoy the rather forceful way of doing it. Her hands were sneaking up to his shoulders and his one hand, the one not cupping the back of her head, sneaked down towards her delicious looking bum.
Suddenly, she pulled her lips from his and the warmth of her tongue playing with his was deeply missed. Her eyes were wide and open again and she looked at him, her breathing laboured.
"Snape..."
"Granger, stop thinking," he growled and pulled her back to him, knowing this was the chance for the kiss she ought to be given now. There would be — he hoped — more time for a kiss like the one they had just shared. This one should — he hoped — win her over. Make her understand that he, at least, wanted to get to know her better. Didn't want her staying away from him.
He wanted to make her understand that she was the only anchor that had kept him in Diagon Alley earlier. Without her, he would have apparated away as quickly as possible, even risking splinching himself. He wanted her to know, and hoped he could let her know without telling her, that she had been the one he had trusted there. She was the one he wanted around. Not anyone else. Her. All of them had gone insane, it seemed and she was the one who saw him for who he was. She knew the truth and she knew him. He just hoped he could convey this much.
Slowly, he cupped her face in his hands and brushed his thumbs along her soft skin as he pulled her lips closer and bent down and brushed his lips over hers slowly, fleetingly, gently, softly. He could see how her eyes were open and the surprise in her eyes and he watched as they fluttered close as he touched her lips with his again, as he let the tip of his tongue sneak out of his mouth and brush against her lower lip. He heard her sigh as he pulled her lower lip between his lips.
He kissed her slowly. He played with her, yes, but only for her pleasure and for his. He would otherwise never play with her. After this, after her answering him with her own tongue and lips and teeth, he knew he wouldn't have to listen to the Weasley boy at all. He would do all in his power to never hurt her.
A woman who could kiss him like this — a woman who did kiss him like this — deserved nothing but the best protection and the most he could give.
.
Her head was spinning and her breath came raggedly. Her lungs felt on fire and her skin tingled. Her lips burned and all of her muscles seemed to be completely loose or relaxed or non-existant.
She couldn't remember to have ever been kissed like this. What Snape had just done was...basically making love to her mouth. Or the lower portion of her face. She was dizzy. Overwhelmed and...then again, she could feel herself thinking with a clarity she hadn't felt for a long time.
He wasn't playing with her. He wasn't toying her.
Or if he did, he was a damn good kisser and a damn good actor to boot. No. Nobody could be so cruel and least of all him. Strange how perception could change during a short span of time but she wasn't sure whether she could state one single time when he had deliberately hurt anyone — since coming to live as Muggle that was. Certainly not before.
Somehow, she found herself smiling a little awkwardly at him.
"I, erm," she licked her lips absent-mindedly, his taste lingering on them and tingling from the pressure and the soft caresses and...everything.
"Yes, Granger?" he growled.
"I...just..." she took a deep breath. "I think...I nee..."
"Yes?"
"Are you..." she stopped herself again. What a ridiculous thing to do. Being snogged basically within an inch of her life, those two kisses being more exciting that the entire half hour or so with the idiot Ian...Shite. "I, Snape, I have to think," she said rushedly. "And George's coming over later and...I..." she sighed. "I, erm, will email you later? Or call? Would that be okay? I mean..."
He had the audacity to smile at her. Not smirking, not sneering, just smiling. As he had before and it completely unarmed her. All of her.
"Call, Granger," he said and his smile vanished ever so sightly.
"I will. After George leaves? It might be late though, I wouldn't want to disturb you and all..."
"If you don't want to call, don't call," he said stiffly. "But I will be up quite late," he mumbled the last part and she had difficulty even hearing him.
"I will call then," she said. "Erm, talk to you later then?"
He nodded shortly and she smiled at him now. "Thank you for..." she nodded. "Thanks it was...Oh for heaven's sake."
Hermione rushed into his arms again and pressed her lips on his once more. It was awkward and it was stiff and it was weird but after a moment, there was the familiarity, the wonderful pressure, the dreadful excitement again. Mixed, this time, however, with the guilt she felt over...Ian. Stupid her. Stupid, stupid, stupid her.
She pulled away, drank in the sight of him standing there with his eyes still closed and his tongue sweeping out to lick his own lips and apparated without saying another awkward word.
.
She was confused, he could tell. Hell, he was confused. He had just gone and kissed a woman. Without thinking about it for months and without worshipping her from afar or being worshipped by her from afar for a while before. And she had kissed back. Silly woman. Silly woman had him. It had been the sweetest kisses and it had confirmed all that he had thought possible. He would, could, one day, love her. He knew he would, just as he knew that his name was Severus Tobias Snape and that he needed to wipe that silly grin of his face before he faced Eleanor to show her a few magic tricks with the wand. Otherwise, he would never hear the end of it. Eleanor would know and Eleanor would find out the last details if he let anything show.
Stupid, silly grin on his face.
87. The Rhetorical Question
The rhetorical question is something of a cousin to the hypophora. While the hypophora asks a question and then answers it immediately, a rhetorical question is one on which the answer is merely implied. Is is used effectively in the following example from John Milton: 'For what can war but endless war breed?' Hypophora offers the writer an opportunity to tell readers something they don't know; a rhetorical question gives the writer an opportunity to highlight something readers do know.
(McGuigan, 2007)
"Why are you smiling like that?" Harry asked without preamble. Just came straight out and said it. Not letting her one minute to compose herself.
Some time during the apparition back to London, the smile had sneaked onto her face. Snape had kissed her. Twice. She had kissed him once. Snape had smiled at her. Snape had kissed her. Snape had hugged her. Snape had held her. Snape had kissed her. Twice. Snape had kissed back when she had kissed him. Snape was a brilliant kisser. Snape had kissed her. Snape had kissed her because...she didn't know why exactly but he hadn't done it to toy with her. He hadn't done it to mess with her head. He had wanted to kiss her and he wanted her to call him. His face had fallen when she had tried to wriggle her way out of it.
Awkward. It had been awkward. Not during the kisses. No. Even her over-active mind had stopped for two seconds or minutes or twenty minutes or so during those kisses but when they had stopped kissing, it had been awkward. It would be awkward. Any new kind of relationship, she had thought rationally, would be like this, started out this way.
Relationship?
She had gasped then and had almost lost her footing.
No matter though, she had thought as she had unwarded the door and unlocked it, she would see. She wouldn't get her hopes up. But one or two of those kisses once in a while, or every day, or every hour, wouldn't really come amiss. Would definitely not be unwelcome. Certainly not. Not at all. Never.
And that had put the smile on her face. Stupid, silly smile that she obviously still wore when Harry and Ted and Ron saw her.
"I'm not smiling," she said, smiling.
"Why are you grimacing then?" asked Ron, his eyes almost twinkling.
"Apparition," she said, smiling still. "George will come over..."
"He's in the kitchen. He said he expected you here sooner..." Ron grinned outright now. "And he told us who you were with as well. Well, no, Luna did that. Did you know those two...?"
"He told you?" she gulped.
Harry nodded and slowly a grin spread on his face as well. "I think I know that kind of smile, Ronald," he said in a mock-Hermione-tone.
"Oh stop it," she laughed now. "I know. And yes, you don't have to ask further. Snape kissed me."
"Hand me the two galleons then," Ron told Harry with a smirk.
"Snape kissed you? He did? Really? You didn't kiss one another, you didn't kiss him, he kissed you? He was the one..." Harry asked, obviously clutching the last straw.
She laughed, shaking her head. "He kissed me. And I will not answer anything more. Seriously. And don't go around telling people."
"Hermione!" Luna came bouncing out of the kitchen, radish-earrings dangling from her wars, half-hidden by her long, blonde hair. "Wow, there are a lot of Geengles surrounding you," she came towards her, waving her fingers through the air as if she wanted to get through a few flies surrounding Hermione.
"I do?" she laughed. This was too funny. All of it. Her lips tingled. Her skin burned where he had touched her and she could almost feel his arms still around her.
"Yes, George, look, so many Geengles," she turned around and seemed to smile softly at George Weasley who blushed slightly and before Hermione could blink, he had his arm wrapped around the little blonde and smirked at Hermione.
"Isn't she marvellous? What's this I hear about Snape? Kissing you? Snape can kiss?"
"Leave it be, I bet he's a wonderful kisser. He always had a few Nargles around him. Just as you have, love," she smiled at George. "And since you're a wonderful kisser, this only leaves one conclusion."
George bent down and with a gentle smile Hermione had never seen on his face, he kissed her. An odd match, she thought, but that was based on love and adoration. That much was obvious. She smiled at them and smiled at herself and just felt ready to fly. It would all, somehow, work out.
If Luna and George could make it work, she saw absolutely no doubt why she and Snape shouldn't.
.
"You're smiling," Eleanor stated with a wry smirk as she put a cup of tea in front of Severus. Damn. He thought he had wiped it off his face and had even left his mobile phone at home. He didn't want to wait for her to call because she wouldn't. And wasn't it rather unmanly of him for wanting her to call him?
He couldn't wait to talk to her and that was stupid. He wanted to get to know her. He wanted to know her hopes for the future, he wanted to know what she dreamed off at night and during the day. He wanted to...his smile had grown again. Had gone silly and stupid. And his thinking had gone silly and stupid. Maybe she had somehow sucked her brain out while kissing her. Not the Dementor's kiss but Granger's kiss. Would fit though, wouldn't he? Oh but he knew that she would appreciate his mind...
"Am I?" he asked, forcing his face back into a neutral, unsmiling mask. But then, remembered something. "I've acquired a new wand," he explained and put the polished, beautiful piece of wood on her kitchen table.
"Really? And does it work?" she smiled proudly at him.
"Sit," he ordered and picked up his wand again, waving it in the direction of her stove and the kettle boiled immediately and flew over to her so she could pluck it out of the air.
"Wonderful!" she exclaimed. "It really works? You're really a fully grown wizard again? You can do everything? The way you used to? With this stick-thing?"
He nodded and put it on the table again. He would grow addicted to it if he held it for too long, he knew. And he'd rather probably get addicted to...not thinking about her now. He was talking to Eleanor.
"Oh that's just..." she rushed around the table, reaching for her back immediately and pressing her hand against it before she pulled him up and hugged him. Tightly. He liked the hug but it wasn't...oh, he wasn't thinking about her. "But you're not going away now, are you?" she asked, muffled against his shoulder.
"No," he said. "I won't move away, I won't go away. I can't go back there," he said seriously.
She pulled back and looked at him quizzically.
"So the wand wasn't the reason why you smiled then?"
He smiled again. Granger came back to him in his mind. Smiling and kissing him and telling him she would call him. A little awkwardly, yes, but she would. He knew she would.
"No," he said and the silly, stupid smile reappeared on his face.
"Oh?" she asked, smirking. "Then? Miss Granger?"
Slowly, ever so slowly, he nodded again and he couldn't stop smiling.
.
She was glad when George and Luna had left at a reasonable time, both so besotted with one another that there wasn't any doubt in anyone's mind about what they were up to afterwards. She was glad when the two of them left and she was even gladder when she could disappear to her room with only a few smirks from her boys. She hadn't expected them to be so lovely about it. Honestly, betting on who would be kissing whom first? Smiling because she was smiling? She would have bet that one or the other would be completely freaking out about it but — no. They were there. Steady and smiling and smirking and just accepting. Odd, that, but she appreciated it. And she knew, deep down, that if this entire thing wouldn't play out the way she wanted it to play out, one of them would console her huggingly while the other would go out hunting for Snape's balls. Somehow, that thought comforted her.
