Taught to Wed

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Taught to Wed

Chapter 7 - The Kiss

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Severus sat back in his chair. The things he had just witnessed were quite surprising. He could maybe almost understand her checking out his arse. He was a rather fit gentleman. However, the idea that she had seen him in the nude disturbed him. He had absolutely no clue as to how she could have seen him. Focusing on what little of Hermione's memory he now had for his own, he let out a groan. Of all the times for her to have seen him, it had to have been that night.

Severus was not normally a man who overindulged in spirits; after all, a dulled mind could lead to a very dead body given his lifestyle. Yet, on occasion things happened that required a good stiff drink or ten. Seeing Mrs. Norris in the throes of passion with one oversized half-breed kneazle was one of those things.

Upon waking from an alcohol-induced sleep, his head pounding and his stomach feeling as though it were churning butter out of its contents, Severus had groaned and made his way to the potions storeroom. It wasn't until he had taken the hangover relief potion that he realized he was naked. He didn't remember undressing, but he very well could have, he must have, whilst drunk. Fortunate for him, his private quarters were attached to his office, which contained the storeroom. Thus insuring no embarrassment, as there was no one for him to encounter either on the way there or back to his quarters.

The question was; what was it that Miss Granger had been up to in his office? He understood that his state of mind at the time had him focused on one thing, retrieving the potion. His vision had been blurry and thus he hadn't noticed her as he walked into the storeroom.

Perplexed and curiosity getting the better of him, Severus stood up and made his way to the fireplace. Tossing in a handful of Floo powder he said, "Hermione Granger's room." He stuck his head into the now burning green fireplace. "Miss Granger," he called out.

Hermione stepped out of her bathroom, dressed in a towel, "Yes, Professor," she said frowning at the fireplace and her potion master's floating green head.

"I have an important question to ask of you," he primly stated.

"Well ask already, I would like to take my bath this millennium," she snapped.

"What were you doing in my office that evening you saw me in - well all of me?" he responded, feeling flustered at the question.

"I went to retrieve Crookshanks who happened to dart into your open classroom and office. I was just turning to leave when you walked in. Now is that all, or would you rather me stand here in my towel all night?" Hermione huffily replied.

"Thank you, Miss Granger, for filling me in on the situation," Severus said, "Go-"

"Well, I never would have had to fill you in on it if you hadn't invaded my mind," she snapped.

"Miss Granger, need I remind you that you willingly entered into the Legilimency and that you were the one who failed to remove the memory? One that you most obviously are not comfortable sharing?"

"Oh, sod off," she replied, turning around and walking into the bathroom slamming the door behind her.

Severus sighed and pulled out off the fireplace. Serves you right, old man. Did you really need to ask her that? Did it really matter that much? There was one other question that he had wanted to ask; however, her reaction completely negated his need to ask it. Did you like what you saw?

*****

Hermione could not believe the nerve of Professor Snape. Popping into her fireplace and asking questions about something as embarrassing as that. At least he hadn't asked when it was a fresh memory. Granted it had happened less than a year ago, over Christmas holidays her sixth year, it was still incredibly embarrassing for her. It's probably just as embarrassing for him, she mused to herself.

She had been fortunate enough to push him out before it was too late. What if he had found out that he had turned her on? Granted they were now engaged, well at least as far as Lucius Malfoy and the rest of his guests that had been there Friday night were concerned. She knew it was just him protecting her life, and that if things went as planned, there would be no need for them to follow through. That if Voldemort attacked before June, or if the Order decided to take the initiative and attack first, and that the side of good won, her life would be safe.

Hermione resigned herself to the fact that her potions master would never feel the same about her as she did him. However, the question of the vision was still up in the air. Was it some sort of divine intervention from the powers that be that had allowed her response? Or was it something else entirely? And if it were the latter, who or what was behind it? These were all questions that needed to be answered, however, there would be plenty of time for her to get down to the answers.

*****

The rest of the week flew by faster than anyone could have hoped. Well, except for Draco. He hoped for just the opposite. He had wanted the week to drag on for all eternity. Using his Slytherin cunning he had finagled a way to keep Ron occupied while he impersonated him. On top of that, he bribed one of the house elves to obtain some of the Weasel's clothing for him. What he received were a pair of trousers that looked like they had at least five previous owners, knowing the Weasleys that most likely was the case, and a well-worn red jumper with a big golden 'R'. Tacky, if you asked him.

*****

Ron was excited, nervous, brave, and frightened all at once. Quite amazing for someone who believed that one could only experience one emotion at a time. It seems the one with the emotional capacity of a teaspoon had grown up.

"Do I look ok?" Ron asked, smoothing his hair down for the hundredth time that morning.

"You look fine," Harry assured him. "It's just a walk around the lake. You make it sound like you were going to the Yule Ball or something."

"It feels like it though," Ron said, laughing nervously. "I mean, what if she takes one look at me and walks away?"

"She's not going to do that," Harry said, grinning. "I know Cho well enough that she wouldn't do a thing like that. Not to mention she really likes you."

"Really, you're not just saying that?"

"Relax, Ron. Now go and have a good time. I have to get to Hogsmeade," Harry said, becoming a little nervous, too.

"Oi, Harry. It's only Bill. It's not like it's a date, and he's going to bite your head off. Can you not give me any more motivational speeches when you are in need of them yourself?" Ron said grinning.

"No, we'll keep giving each other motivation. What are friends for?" Harry said. "Now I really have to go. Tell me how it goes later."

"Same goes for you."

"Er... yeah. Will do," Harry mumbled as he walked out of their dormitory.

*****

Hermione sat meditating in the Astronomy Tower. She had needed an escape after the hellish week she had. An escape from the lie she'd been living for the past week. Wishing it weren't a lie. She hoped that by the time the boys were back, that she'd be able to tell them and maybe even Ginny and Neville about what had happened. She'd just leave out the Veritaserum research. No, that wouldn't work. One of them would ask how I was able to lie. And then I'd have to tell them everything. Hermione groaned in frustration. I'll never be able to tell them. They'll never understand.

Giving up on that train of thought, Hermione focused her energy to another endeavor. She was going to become an animagus. McGonagall was encouraging her to do so. She said that she had potential. Though in order to do so she would need to spend copious numbers of hours meditating uninterrupted. Hence another reason to come all the way to the Astronomy Tower on a Saturday afternoon. Essentially she would have to clear her mind of everything and only focus on becoming the animal she was inside.

She couldn't focus on any single animal she just had to focus on, as McGonagall said, her true form. Not everyone could change form, and thus many people didn't want to spend the time on it just to be disappointed. Others didn't really find a need to be able to change form. It really wasn't a practical thing to do for everyone, especially if your animal was something large or dangerous. However, those who had taken the time for it, and been successful, found it helpful to no end.

*****

Harry found Bill sitting at a small table in the back of the Three Broomsticks. He nervously made his way to the table. "Uh, hello, Bill," he said, sitting down in the other chair at the table.

"Hullo, Harry," Bill grinned. "You're all nervous again. You really need to work on that. Especially when you have nothing to be nervous about."

"I know," Harry said, looking down at the table. "I just can't help it. I mean I haven't really ever talked about this sort of thing before."

"Sure you have, you told Ron," Bill said, "and that wasn't hard, now was it?"

"Well, no. But I think he knew already," Harry said, a little confused.

"Ron is perceptive. Tell you a secret," Bill said leaning forward, "he knew I was before I did."

"He did?" Harry choked out, "but how?"

"He's a good judge of character... well most of the time," Bill said, chuckling.

"Only most of the time?"

"Yeah, he sometimes lets his own feelings about a person cloud his perception. But enough about Ron, let's order something and then we can talk about you," Bill said, motioning over Madam Rosmerta. They both ordered a butterbeer. They sat in silence until Madam Rosmerta delivered the drinks. After Harry took his first sip, Bill broke the silence, "What made you realize you might be gay?"

"Well I don't like girls," Harry replied. "Well I mean as anything more than friends."

"Have you ever tried to be? Have you ever kissed a girl?"

"Yeah. In fifth year I tried dating Cho, but nothing she did made any sense to me. And then she kissed me and it was fun, but it just didn't feel right. It felt good, but not right. Am I rambling again?" Harry looked worriedly at Bill.

"No, you're not rambling," Bill chuckled. "Have you ever kissed a guy before?"

"No. I just know I don't like girls. I'm not even sure I like guys. I mean I really liked Cho and wanted to be more than friends with her, but it never worked, and-"

"Harry, calm down. You're hyperventilating. Take a drink of your butterbeer," Bill sat quietly while Harry took a drink. "Now, is there anyone that you're interested in?"

Harry's face twisted in fear, "There is, but I can't tell you who."

"That's fine. It is a guy, though?" Harry nodded. "How do you feel when you think about him?"

Harry paused for a minute, "I feel good. Sometimes it feels like I'm flying. Other times I don't feel so good. I don't think he likes me. But I want him to."

"Hmm," Bill started, "you should try kissing him."

"What?" Harry sputtered, nearly choking on the butterbeer. "How am I supposed to do that? Just go up to him and say 'Hey, I know we've always hated each other, but I don't anymore and I want to kiss you.' Not bloody likely."

"Malfoy? You like Malfoy, Harry?" Bill said grinning.

"Yes, I mean no, I mean. I said that out loud?" Harry said, shock spreading across his face.

"No, you didn't say it out loud. It was just a guess. Besides I don't know of anyone else you 'hate'," Bill said.

"Now you see why I can't kiss him."

"Actually, I think that's even more reason to kiss him. Besides, anyone who spends that much time on their hair, has to be gay," Bill winked.

"Oh," Harry said sheepishly.

"Kiss him, and let me know how it goes, ok?" Bill looked at his watch. "I have to get going. It was nice talking with you, Harry. And don't hesitate to write me again, especially if you have any other questions. Think of me as your own personal Agony Aunt," Bill said, resting his hand on Harry's arm. "Take care."

"Thanks, Bill," Harry said. He sat there for a few minutes reflecting after Bill left, before heading back to the castle.

*****

Draco pulled on the gaudy red jumper. I can't believe I'm doing this. Father owes me for this. Looking into the mirror, Draco cringed. The Weasel's clothes were too big for him and clashed with his pale skin and light hair. Here goes. Draco grabbed the hairs and stuck them into the potion. He gave it a quick stir before drinking down half the bottle. He wasn't sure if that would be enough, but he was quickly reassured when he felt the potion start its work, feeling the changes beginning.

Something wasn't right though. The hair was too long, and the wrong color. It was brown, bushy and reaching almost all the way down his back. His facial features became very soft and feminine. His body filled out into that of a female, curvy and he had breasts. His body was far from perfect, but it was soft and it was Granger's. Draco let out a scream. This couldn't possibly be happening. This is just wrong.

Draco was half tempted to spend the next hour curled up in bed, but decided he didn't want to soil his bed with Granger smell. Not that she smelled bad. No, she smelled nice. Like lavender and honeysuckle. He just didn't want his bed smelling like it; though the idea did set of a traitorous little thought, I wonder if I can get a bit of Harry's hair.

Still, being the ambitious Slytherin that he is, Draco decided that he had to go on and follow through with the mission. He'd just have to yell at his father about it later. If there was one thing Draco was good at, it was playing the spoiled brat. His father was going to pay big time for this. Another smirk played across his now feminine features, speaking of payment, pulling at the neck of the oversize jumper Draco took a few moments to take in the curve of Hermione's breasts; the opportunity too good to pass up.

Draco began his trek from the Slytherin dormitories to Gryffindor Tower. How do they walk? he wondered to himself as the hips kept throwing him slightly off balance. As he passed the potions classroom he heard Snape call out, "Miss Granger, I would like to have a word with you."

Draco kept walking, realizing that Snape was calling out to him, but in no way eager to see his house head whilst in this form.

"Miss Granger! A Word. Now."

Draco turned around and looked at the potions master with an expression of incredulity. "We have not got all day, Miss Granger, if you could stop gawking and come have a seat in my office."

Draco struggled for a moment to gather his voice to the correct pitch, "Yes, Professor," his voice cracking on the last syllable. He followed the potions master in through the potions classroom and into Snape's office.

"Have a seat," Snape said motioning towards the same seat Hermione had sat in several nights before. Draco obliged. Snape stood leaning against the front of the desk, a mere foot away from the confused boy. "May I inquire as to why you are wearing the clothes of your housemate?"

Draco inwardly groaned. How was he going to explain this one? "Well, you see, Professor," Yes, keep stalling. Think, think, think! What would Granger say? What outrageously Gryffindor excuse would she come up with? "Harry, Ron and I thought it would be funny to exchange clothes today. Though Harry's wearing robes over his outfit."

"I assume Potter is wearing your clothing, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, not believing for a minute that this was really the case.

"That would be correct sir," Draco said, his voice cracking once more. Bloody hell, Malfoy, who do you think you're fooling?

"That is a sight I would pay to see," Snape said smirking.

"You'd pay to see Potter dressed in drag?" Draco shouted.

"No, *Miss Granger*. I would not pay to see *Potter* dressed in drag, as you so ineloquently put it. However, I would pay to see him humiliated," Snape said, a glimmer of recognition flickering through his eye.

"Oh," was all Draco managed to get out, as his professor was moving closer to him.

"Miss Granger, did I mention that you look lovely today?" Snape said almost leering.

"Um, thank you?" Draco squeaked out, squirming nervously in his seat. What in Merlin's name is he doing? Draco was frozen in place as his professor's lips lightly brushed against his own.