What Should Have Been

{3}

Severus felt the pressure of lips against his own, and immediately his eyes closed tight to enjoy the feeling. The motion felt so familiar with her in his arms, and her soft hands were in common places. He wrapped his arms around her, quickly keeping her there and reveling in the feeling of a woman against him.

Everything ended all too quickly as Hermione pulled back with a heavy gasp.

"I'm so sorry."

But she had nothing to apologize for, as every nerve in Severus' body was lit with fire blazing harshly. Senses were evanescent with the dull feel of her lips still on his own.

"That was ridiculous, quite honestly. Of course I would feel nothing if I haven't fallen in love with you to my recollection," she muttered on, now pacing in front of the stunned man.

He wasn't quite sure why he was the only one who felt the sparks, the only one who seemed to have emotions so vividly induced into his being. There was so much stirring in his heart, he felt alive again, as if all the years left from his mind were still there, even though he knew they were not. It was just so strong! Hadn't she felt that?

"Nothing?" He inquired aloud.

"Placid and... dull? I apologize if that's offensive."

In his mind, Severus wanted to outright yell at her for such a blatant disrespect, yet he couldn't bare to do it. She looked so frustrated, and he felt completely torn.

"Not at all. Quite the... same on my end."

She snorted.

"What have we gotten ourselves into? Did you know you got me a cat?"

"A blasted feline? Me?" The potions master said in disgust. "And how do you know that we got ourselves into," he gestured around them, "This."

Her pacing ceased as her doe-brown eyes looked at him with wonder.

"I don't. If someone did this intentionally then we must discover who."

"Obviously," he drawled, attempting to mask the hurt in her avoiding tone.

Did Hermione seriously feel nothing from their interaction? Had it been this way before? Severus wouldn't be surprised if he was the first to fall, the first to give up everything in order to be with her. He had always been an "all or nothing" man. Now his curiosity was at an all time high, yet he knew his answers would only be found in what others knew until they could get their memories returned. Then a thought came to him.

"Come," he commanded and pulled her into his flat, startling the young witch. A little tug guided her towards the potions room, two seats conjuring for them both. He plopped her into a chair and then threw open a few of his annotated texts.

"Is this your script?" He pointed out a few separate examples with his long fingers as he leaned over her, taking in her intoxicating scent. Merlin, she smelled wonderfully.

How on earth had he been able to snag such a talented and quite beautiful witch? The idea baffled him, and while he was sure now that everything around him was really happening, he wanted it again. Though the witch next to him did not look so convinced.

"We must have spent a lot of time here, all my notes have dates," she almost laughed.

"Insufferable know-it-all."

"Why did you ever insist on calling me that?"

He raised an imperious eyebrow, as if the question merely should have been rhetorical.

"You must be kidding, Hermione." He wasn't entirely sure they were allowed the addressing of first names, yet there seemed to be no hesitation from her.