This is the last one! Thank you, lovely readers. Enjoy!

The Tea Room – Level three, Ministry of Magic, 2000.

Hermione Granger pushes through the door marked 'Staff only' and makes a beeline for the sink.

"Bloody misogynistic twits!" she mutters, glad that there is no one present so early in the morning. "Bag of dicks, the lot of them!"

Lowering her voice, she grabs a clean cup from the top cupboard and sneers, "'Hello pretty lady, I've got a tiny penis and no balls to speak of, and because of that, I'm getting promoted before you!' Honestly!"

"Honestly, indeed."

She drops the cup and shrieks, whipping around in surprise. "You!"

Severus Snape lounges against the closed door and smirks. "Me."

"Oh, god," Hermione squeaks, too flustered to wave her wand towards the broken cup on the floor. Snape advances, one eyebrow lifted. One nonchalant wave of his hand has the cup repaired and in her grasp again.

There should be things to say other than 'oh, god,' but Hermione is at a loss. Truly, the only thing running through her mind is –

"It's been a year!" And damn, does he look good. She tosses her head, attempting to regain her equilibrium.

He shrugs his shoulders, the movement so graceful and fluid that she huffs. Trust the striking, arresting man to even shrug in a manner that screams of sex.

"Yes," he agrees simply.

"What are you doing here?"

He tuts and she wavers. Severus Snape has never truly unleashed himself on her before – every other time she's seen him alone, somewhat unguarded, has been due to her own devices. Truth be told, she rather used to like springing herself on him – watching that delectable, tight arse dancing in the kitchen at the Burrow, or making sure he was well aware that she wasn't a little girl anymore one morning three years ago in Grimmauld Place.

The tall wizard takes another step towards her. "Should I not be asking you the same thing?"

Hermione falters. "I was… erm… ah…"

"Attempting to evade a bag of dicks?" he supplies in a helpful tone, black eyes glittering as he draws out each word.

"Well, when you put it that way…" she mumbles, suddenly flustered. "Yes. They're on level four, and I wanted a coffee in peace." Drawing on what's left of her courage, she looks him in the eye and demands, "And what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be working –"

"On level two, yes." He takes the cup and leans around her, setting it back on the counter. Both draw breath simultaneously as the front of his robes graze her chest.

She harrumphs and places two small hands on her hips, her breasts jutting out as she scowls, though it lessens when his gaze flickers downwards then back to her face. "I was going to say that, you know."

"Were you?"

One more step and their bodies are so close that she could close the distance now and finally feel for herself how soft the buttoned, black robes that adorn his body are. Sure that such a thing would be tempting fate, Hermione shifts awkwardly on her feet and tucks a stray curl behind her ear.

"That doesn't answer my question."

His eyes soften. "No, it doesn't. I thought… I thought you might be here."

"What?"

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

"No, I heard you," she dismisses. "It was more of an exclamation. You know, because it's been a year." When it seems that no response will come from the smirking man, she crosses her arms. "I still have your coat!"

"I know," he says softly. His tone makes her blink with surprise, and then she offers him a small smile which he returns almost immediately. She likes this… whatever it is. "I came to get it back."

"Oh…" Disappointment reigns. "Really? Is that all?"

"In a manner of speaking…"

"Oh?"

"Are you capable of saying anything other than 'oh'?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Well, finish what you were going to say."

"Ah. …"

"Well?" she prods, tilting her head with a grin. "Hmm?"

Suddenly hesitant and almost ungainly, the man who has haunted her dreams for years swallows thickly and nods. His lips scrunch up and he glowers with concentration as he blurts out, "Iwantedtoaskyoutobringmycoattodinner. Oh, bollocks. I wanted to ask –" He gives a short, mortified humph and steps back.

In the face of her warm and welcoming smile, he turns to flee the room but Hermione, in a fit of brilliance, reaches out and holds onto his robes. So soft...

"I'd love to," she declares winningly, morning coffee and misogynistic bosses completely forgotten. "I'd really, really love to."

After a stunned, quick bark of laughter, Severus sobers and nods again. "Right… right. Well… all right, then. Good."

"Oh, and Severus?" Hermione calls after he has bowed awkwardly and headed for the door. He pauses and looks at her over his shoulder, just the hint of a true smile on his lips.

"Take me dancing."

She will remember his bright red flush of pleasure for years to come.

The End!