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Give To Me	By : Rikka Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2639 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Give To Me: ch 1-12
- 1
Give To Me
By: Rikka
A/N: I have combined all the chapters so far into one for adult-fanfiction.org, mainly because while fanfiction.net seems to have no issue with my formatting, aff.net does, and it was much quicker for me to reformat it in one go instead of 12 pieces. (I'm lazy, so shoot me) Anyway, I hope you enjoy, please do review if you do!

Chapter 1 - Hints
In the beginning, Severus Snape was his usual self. While he considered Hermione’s project to be a promising one, and while he considered Miss. Granger to be an exceptionally bright student, he was not inclined to make either admission. But after over a month of working together, in his room, Snape had slowly opened up. Hermione’s…no, Miss. Granger’s, constant efforts at getting to know him, her constant optimism, were beginning to crack through his neutral and sometimes, if he was honest with himself, even snarky exterior. He found himself starting to look forward to their time together. Not only because it fascinated him to see her eyes brighten and her speech quicken every time she got another step closer to her goal, but because slowly, through their increasingly personal conversations, Severus Snape had gotten to know a student. Not just any student, but young Potter’s upstart know-it-all friend. Though, thought Snape, she isn’t so much of a know-it-all, as much as she is a want-to-know-it-all.
This leaves him where he is now, confused as to the amount of investment he feels towards Hermione. Her research project, that is.
“Are you feeling all right?” Snape was pulled out of his revelry by a soft voice and concerned eyes.
“I’m fine.” He found himself snapping. “You’d do well to pay attention to things which are your business. Such as your potion--which looks about to boil over!” Why am I suddenly so angry with the girl, he thought, seeing her confused and hurt face. Biting her lower lip in the way that he knew always meant she was thinking hard, but would soon have plenty to say, Snape suddenly found that he was irrationally fearful. Of what??
“I think you can finish these steps on your own. I have some…things…to attend to in my office,” he turned to leave the room, but was stopped by a delicate hand on his arm. His heart raced, and his arm started tingling from the touch as he stared at her delicate fingers…
Jerking his arm away, a horrified look on his face, he muttered an “excuse me,” and flew out of the room, robes flapping, leaving a very confused Hermione Granger standing with her arm outstretched.
After finishing her work for the day, Hermione went back to her room to think. She was so lost in thought she didn’t notice when dinner time came and went, nor did she notice when Harry and Ron came knocking on her door, concerned.
The next day in Potions class, Hermione was still distracted, and much to the surprise of everyone in the class, especially Harry and Ron, she found herself losing twenty points from Gryffindor via clumsiness, not to mention the hush that fell over the class every time Snape lit into Hermione for something she had done. By the end of class, she was ready to cry, Snape had a killer headache, Harry and Ron were thoroughly worried, and Draco Malfoy had a huge grin on his face.
So Granger has a thing for Snape, he thought, grinning wickedly to himself as he walked to Crabbe and Goyle, putting his arm around the former. “So guys…”
Before Harry or Ron could say anything to Hermione, she had burst from the classroom, and by the time they threw their notebooks into their bags and hurried to the hall, she was nowhere to be found.
“Blast,” they said at the same time, not seeing Snape behind them.
“Five points from Gryffindor,” he snapped, adding, “Stop loitering in the hall and get to wherever you need to be,” before storming off.
“Was it just me, or did it seem like the stick up Snape’s ass grew overnight?” Ron asked Harry.
“Grew? You mean grew thorns and started twisting around up there,” Harry said. They giggled, and headed to Divinations.
The next few times Hermione and Snape worked together, they did so in silence. Hermione thought she might burst if she didn’t say something, but judging by the look on Snape’s face she thought he might burst if she did. The tension in the room was unbearable when Hermione gripped a glass tube so tightly it shattered in her hand. She stared, dumbfounded at the sight of her own blood, and then looked up to Snape, asking “help me?”
He had been attempting to ignore her; attempting to ignore the smell of her perfume as she moved about the tables, from the storeroom to her cauldron, the way her hair waved around her back, the way she held her wand, the crease in between her eyes when she was concentrating, her soft voice as she read aloud ingredients and directions, thinking to the room. With one quick glance he realized what she had done and he was at her side, ever so carefully grasping her hand (so soft...) in one of his while pointing his wand at it with the other. He muttered a few words, and the glass came out of her hand, repaired itself, and then the bleeding stopped and her skin healed. She continued to stare down at her hand, held so reverently in his, for a good thirty seconds after he had finished his healing of her injury. Suddenly she was painfully aware of the musky scent of him, of books and tea and something else distinctively...him. His chest was moving in the corner of her vision, and she was hypnotized by sudden thoughts of the body that lay under the robes and behind the mask. She was afraid to move, afraid to blink, afraid that if she did she would lose something from her mind forever that she was just putting together.
“Better?” he asked, breaking the silence, but making no attempt to remove his hand. She was so warm to touch, and he hadn’t touched someone in so long. He was so content just being this near the girl, feeling her body so close to his; he drew in a quick breath when she finally brought her eyes up to his. He never wanted to look away. She took in a breath, readying herself to say something, but he stopped her with a finger on her lips. “Shh,” he whispered, allowing his hand to cup her chin, and she leaned into his hand for a moment before kissing his palm, so lightly that if he hadn’t seen it he might have been able to chalk it up to his imagination.
And suddenly she was gone, in a swirl of robe and a slam of the door, and he was left standing, his arm up where her face had been only moments ago.
Chapter 2 - Realizations
Hermione ran straight out, staring at her feet, concentrating just on keeping one in front of the other. Her thoughts were racing so quickly that she couldn’t really grasp any of them, and she almost didn’t notice Malfoy coming down the hall.
“What’s the hurry, Granger? You ought to watch where you’re going, I’d hate for you to have an accident!” he called at her as she bustled by, but she didn’t even pause. Oh, I’m going to have fun with this. Poor little mudblood, swooning over the head of Slytherin House, he snickered to himself, and then walked into the potions classroom. “Professor Snape?” he inquired, seeing Snape staring off at something...someone who was no longer in the room.
Hermione wasn’t herself, this much Harry and Ron realized. She barely said a word to them in the common room, didn’t chastise them for playing chess instead of studying for a potions exam, and as far as they could tell, she hadn’t eaten in three days.
If she knew what they were thinking, she would have to agree. After the day where she cut her hand in Snape’s room, she had barely said two words to anyone, even Harry and Ron. She wasn’t sure about anything anymore, and she certainly wasn’t sure enough about anything enough to talk to her to best friends about it yet. Some things are best left to stew, her mother always said, and for the first time Hermione understood how that could be true. She was so tense she felt like her skin could crack and she could seep out, and just sneak off to hide in some dark cleft in a wall within Hogwarts until her brain made up its mind what it was on about.
If Hermione had ever envisioned herself having a relationship of any significance other than friendship, it had never gone past holding hands, even in her head. Not to say that she was completely sheltered; she knew what went on in certain “hidden” hallways of Hogwarts, but she herself had never really had the time nor inclination to go any…farther, either in her head, or with herself. Suddenly, she found herself wondering about that feeling in her hand, and other places, when she touched Prof...Severus...the other day. She wondered if it was just hormones, after all, or if there was...something...there.
She lay back on her bed, thinking of him. Why am I thinking about him? She wondered for a minute, and then it hit her, everything she had been avoiding really admitting to herself for the past few weeks; she actually was attracted to him. She was attracted to someone, not just anyone, but Professor Snape, Most Hated Professor, and Greasy Git Extraordinaire. For some reason, the thought didn’t make her cringe, or sob, or run. The thought made her feel...safe. The same feeling she felt when he healed her hand; the same feeling, she realized, that she had whenever in his company as of late.
He’ll never return such an obviously schoolgirl crush...will he? She pondered to herself, staring blankly at her potions text in the common room of Gryffindor. Is it just a schoolgirl crush? Or is this...something more...real? Absentmindedly, she flipped through a few pages, landing on the one for Veritaserum. I wonder...but who would I get to ask?
“Looking for some truths, Granger?” a voice came from behind her. Startled, she turned around to see Draco Malfoy sneering over her shoulder. Why is he always in the right place at the wrong time? It’s almost uncanny! “I’d expect a good girl such as yourself to know how to find it without the help of...potions?” he added, watching her eyes for any reaction.
“What are you doing in here, Malfoy?” she hissed, irritated at her train of thought being interrupted. By no less than the person she least wanted to deal with now, or any other time.
“Just poking around, really. Was planning on studying for my potions exam, but I couldn’t find a suitable partner.” He said, emphasizing his words. Hermione couldn’t help but blush, and Malfoy snickered to himself. Like playing a bloody violin, he thought. He grabbed the book from her hands and started flipping through the pages. “Let’s see…ah, yes, Love Potion. Say, you’re good in potions; want to help me brew some up?”
Hermione wasn’t sure what to react to first; the fact that Draco had snatched her book straight from her hands, the fact that he admitted that she was good in something, or the fact that he was asking her for help...even if it was for help with something strictly forbidden at Hogwarts.
“I suggest you give her that book back and leave, Malfoy.” Ron growled from somewhere behind Hermione.
“Why don’t you mind your own business, Weasley? Did it ever occur to you that Granger and I might have something...important...to talk about, without you butting your nose in?” Malfoy looked at Ron, and then leered at Hermione from head to toe, knowing full well Ron was about ready to bite his...head off.
“You best be leaving before they have to levitate you to hospital on your way to Slytherin,” Ron said, taking a few steps forward. Draco put his hands up at this, and started backing off.
“We’ll talk again when your friend isn’t around, eh Granger?” he said, then slipped out through a painting in the wall behind Hermione, just brushing up against Ron enough to nudge him out of the way.
“What, exactly, do you think you were doing just then?” Hermione asked Ron, turning on him, anger apparent in her eyes. Ron actually looked surprised at this; he thought she would be grateful he had gotten rid of Malfoy for her. Hermione started to understand the underlying reason for Ron to be acting in such a way. You silly git! Why have you let this go on so long?
“Ron, you and I need to have a long talk some day,” she stated before storming off. Of course Ron loved her, as a friend of course, and in that capacity he wanted to protect and care after her; but is it something more?
At one point, she would have jumped at the thought that Ron wanted more than just friendship with her. It was just too bad he hadn’t realized it sooner. Why is it too bad? Do I really have feelings for... She allowed her mind to wander as she roamed the halls. She was so busy contemplating all that had gone on in her life in the past few weeks; no, months if she were to be completely honest; she didn’t notice what direction she was headed. Suddenly she was standing outside the potions classroom, wanting nothing more than to open the door and slip through.
Chapter 3 - Touched
He knew she was standing outside of his door; his wards alerted him, and he walked out into the classroom, waiting. After a few minutes he walked to the door and was about to open it when she finally walked in. She jumped a bit to see him standing so close to the door, but it was the look on her face that made him want to…what? What do you think you can you do, scoop her into your arms and take her to bed? You fool...you damned old fool. Yet...her face so plainly said everything he had been feeling for the past few weeks; confusion, conflict, consternation, and…fear.
He took a step back at her fear; suddenly he wasn’t quite sure of what he wanted and he felt quite trapped with Hermione between himself and the exit. Well, if he was completely honest with himself he knew what he wanted; but he wasn’t quite...something...yet. Oh to be absolved of my damned fate of being lonely... He only knew that it was taking every ounce of self-control in his body to keep him from reaching out and just touching her. Any kind of contact would leave him sated; any kind of contact would leave him wanting for more. He remembered how it felt to touch her before, how she had so gently kissed his hand; only looking at her right now was almost painful. Damned if you do it seems, and damned if you don’t. Her eyes were staring up at him, and her expression changed to one he couldn’t read as she took a step towards him. Why does this feel so right? Oh please don’t stand so close to me...
Why is he staring at me like that? Hermione searched his face, subconsciously reaching out to grasp his hand when he stepped away. When her fingers met his she found herself being pulled to him, his arms wrapping themselves around her body, pulling her tightly into him. Her head fit in the crook under his chin, and his hands rubbed her back through her robes so hard she thought she t t bruise. It was almost as if…he doesn’t think I’m really here...oh, Gods. That feels so good.
Hermione found herself restlessly writhing against him; it was all she could do not to crawl into his robes. Half of her wanted to flee and half of her wanted him to wrap himself around her and never let her go. “Mmm,” she moaned as one of his legs found its way between her thighs. The sound of her oh please let that be because of me brought Severus back to reality, and he gripped her shoulders, pushing her out to arms length. She frowned, looking up at him, practically pouting, her lips slightly parted, silently screaming to be kissed. To what God or Devil do I owe for having such a creature before me? He meant to tell her they needed to stop; he meant to remind her of who he was, and of the lines of propriety they currently seemed to be blurring.
“Let’s move this someplace more...private,” he heard himself saying, oh you weak, pathetically lonely fool. A slight smile crept onto her face before she replied to his breathy suggestion.
“Um, your rooms are around here, no?” she asked, biting her lower lip as she clasped her hand once more around his. Ohgodsohgodsohgodsohgods don’t let go of me I may fall down...
Severus brought her into his rooms, and with a flick of his wand lit the fire in the fireplace. For a moment he stood there, his back to her but her hand in his, hesitating. “We should talk...” he was silenced by a hand on his back. She turned him around, and brought a finger up to his lips.
“Shh...” she said, smiling. What am I doing? What the hell do I think I am doing? “We can talk all you want later. But right now all I want is for you to be kissing me.”
He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her, but then stopped a half inch from her face as if questioning her, making sure one last time. She leaned up and kissed him lightly on the lips in answer. His eyes closed and he savored the feeling of her skin touching his, electrifying to his senses her touch, scent, sound as she panted in his ear. And suddenly she wasn’t just panting in his ear, and he moaned as she licked his ear, heat spreading through his body. He turned his head, wrapping his fingers in her hair, and brought her lips to hers, kissing her so hard and passionately they both didn’t realize they were on the bed until Hermione pulled away, gasping for breath, her lips red and swollen from the kiss. She looked at him, with – what, love?? – in her eyes, and leaned over for another kiss as she began stripping off her robes. He helped her, his hands exploring each new area as it was uncovered, frustrated when he encountered under clothes beneath the robes.
She sat up next to him, pulling at his robes and whimpering. He took the hint and started taking his off, and she threw each item to the floor as soon as it was removed from his body. “Touch me,” she whispered, bringing his hands to her breast. He stared at her smooth skin, touching her as though she were delicate; treasure this, Severus, it may never happen again. She ground herself on him as he pinched and stroked, moaning, just wanting as much of her skin to touch his as possible. She brought her face up to his for another kiss, and his hands made their way to her buttocks, down her thighs as far as they could go before wandering back up her hips, around to her stomach and up to her shoulders.
She began kissing her way down his neck, licking and sucking and nipping, treasuring him so tactile under her tongue. Everything about him was so beautiful; she found one of his nipples and started playing with it in her mouth, and at his moan she brought her hips down so her legs were straddling one of his thighs, rubbing against him so she realized she still had underwear on. “Mmm, less clothes now,” she muttered against his chest, willing herself to move.
They both td atd at the sound of an alarm. “Damn!” he muttered. A student was outside the door of his classroom. Someone knocked, and then
both heard the unmistakable sound of Draco Malfoy calling, “Professor Snape? Are you here?”
Chapter 4 - Cursed
In a flurry of robes and nerves they both quickly dressed, and before Hermione could say one word Snape muttered something under his breath, pointed his wand at the fireplace, gave her a quick hard kiss, and shoved her through...
...right into her bedroom, where Ron and Harry were sitting, waiting for her.
“Hermione! What the bloody hell?! Where are you coming from?” Ron exclaimed, standing up from the bed. Hermione looked at them in shock, her heart racing at the thought of being caught.
“Um, nowhere.” At the look of utter disbelieve, and four eyebrows shooting straight for the ceiling, Hermione said quickly, “I had a quick meeting with Snape and he sent me back quickly so I could get back and start his reading.”
“Snape? Did you a favor?” Ron said, looking at Harry confused.
“You must be wearing off on him with the amount of work you two have done lately,” Harry said, thinking Hermione has got to be the worst liar at Hogwart’s. What’s really going on?
“Yes, that’s right. Ah...Harry, could you leave Ron and I alone for a bit?” she asked her other friend with pleading eyes. Harry stood up, brushed off the front of his pants in an exaggerated gesture, and waltzed out with a wink at Hermione. She paused for a moment before continuing. “Ron, there is something we both need to get off our chests, I think, but first I just want to say that I know you didn’t mean to insult me earlier...”
“Me, insult you? How??” Ron asked; his eyebrows rose crookedly to the ceiling in complete confusion. Patience, girl, Hermione steeled herself, and sat down cross-legged on the bed, patting the spot in front of her. Ron dutifully sat across from her, and she drew in a deep breath before continuing.
“I was insulted that you thought I needed you to ‘rescue’ me from Malfoy. I was insulted that you have no faith in me; that even after all we’ve been through together you don’t think I can hold my own against that miserable prick. I was insulted, to tell the truth, that your ‘defense’ of me was a blatant battle of testosterone between you and Malfoy, and trust me when I say that I’m putting that as politely as possible. You really didn’t need to; no, don’t interrupt me please,” she said as Ron opened his mouth to speak. Looking in his eyes, she continued. “You really didn’t need to step in. I can handle Draco Malfoy just fine. What I can’t handle is the thought that there is something between us, unspoken, which has the potentiality of ripping us apart as friends. Is there something you need to talk about with me, Ron?” Hermione put her hand on Ron’s and gave it a squeeze of support. For a brief moment Hermione remembered other skin she had just been in closer contact with, but she pushed that out of her head quickly. One thing at a time, one thing at a time...
Ron stared down at her hand for a few moments, gathering his thoughts before answering. He thought of all what they’d been through together, of the time he made her cry and had to save her from the troll, and of the puppy dog eyes she had given him for almost three years. When did she stop? He mused, silently cursing himself for being so dense. Do I really want Hermione, or am I just upset at the thought that someone other than me could have her? Well you can’t have your cake and eat it too, Weasley, so you better make up your mind...
“I just; I thought maybe; blast, I was just being selfish. Hermione, you’re my best friend, you and Harry, and well...I guess I’m a bit possessive of you. It’s like; I knew you first. And for some reason I thought, you’d be there, waiting, or something. I’m sorry I’m so daft. I don’t want to ruin our friendship over me being utterly stupid and blind. I’m not sure how I feel towards you right now, other than as a friend, and it’s not fair of me to ask anything of you if I’m not completely sorted out.” He finished, staring down at her hand still.
“Ron, look at me.” She said, bringing his face up with a finger beneath his chin. “You and Harry, you’re my best friends. That’s just it, though; it doesn’t go any father than that, for either of you, and I wouldn’t want it to. What we have isn’t worth risking...”
“I understand,” he said, standing up shakily. “Well, I should get going; potions exam tomorrow and I swore to Harry we would study together.” With jerky movements he went towards the door, his hands twitching from the sudden adrenalin rush. Well, you got your answer at least, he thought, putting his hand on the doorknob and pausing. Why do I suddenly feel like pummeling someone into a bloody pulp?
“I love you, Hermione,” he said, opening the door and pausing. “You’re the best friend anyone could hope for. Don’t ever let me make you think I feel differently.”
Hermione waited for the door to completely close before she lay down on the bed, kicking off her shoes. “Why does everything always have to be so complicated?” she asked the ceiling. “What am I going to do?” she continued, her thoughts moving to Snape...Severus...and how delightful he felt against her.
She pulled her hand inside her robes, touching her collarbones, her nipples as he had done just an hour before. She remembered how her fingers tingled as they roamed over his body, how he made her entire being heat up with his touch. His warm skin full of soft angles and hard curves had imprinted on her mind, and a small, urgent voice within her was screaming for more. Testing herself, she rubbed around her nipples, slowly, making them harden, and then pinched herself as hard as she could. Ohgods...and she instantly felt blood and need pulsing between her thighs.
Her first small taste of him had left her wanting more, yet at the same time there were too many feelings and reactions shooting through her head and body adrenalin-fast, so that her rational brain hadn’t caught up with her body yet. She wanted to pretend it was him touching her, wanted to make her skin light up as it had done under his touch, but her body was impatient. Her fingernails scratched skin as she snaked her hand down, underneath all her layers to the wetness between her thighs.
Quickly, roughly she began rubbing, harder and faster as intensity built up within her. Her thighs tensed up, her stomach muscles aching as she silently twisted flicked slapped rubbed herself, the need for pleasure overriding all other thoughts as she began sweating. Finally she shoved three fingers inside herself, leaving her thumb on her clit, rubbing and thrusting in uneven, desperate motions, riding her hand until she came. She sat up in bed with the strength of the orgasm, her knees bending and pelvic muscles contracting, shaking with an image of him behind her eyes she held herself up on waves of pleasure as long as she could, slowly letting down the intensity of her hand before falling back onto the bed, panting.
In his rooms, quite a few floors away, Severus Snape was having quite a similar experience with himself. Leaning against the doorframe to his bathroom he thought about her as he slipped his hand into his pants. In his head he saw her as she was a week before in his classroom, brows furrowed over some complex problem she was working on, only to look up to see him and flash a brilliant smile. The memory of her hair entwined in his fingers, her skin as it touched his body...“Ohh, Hermione,” he said out loud as he came, sinking to his knees and hugging the doorframe as though it could offer him solace. You’ve cursed yourself, you know.
Chapter 5 - Encounter
He knew she was there, but he didn’t move. Her hand felt his neck, sliding down under his shirt to his chest, raking through the slight chest hair there....she began weaving a pattering with her fingers, in ever widening circles, until she touched one of his nipples...she kept just barely brushing against them, just enough to be not enough...
She wasn't sure if he had just said "more," or if she only imagined him to, but she pinched both his nipples before spinning his chair around, grinding her crotch against his knee as she brought her head over to his for a kiss. His hands slid down her naked body, finding her buttocks, and one finger began tracing the crack, up and down, farther in each time as she sucked on his earlobe and began the task of unbuttoning his robes.
“So many buttons,” she said, growling in frustration, her fingers fumbling along his top layer. She began tugging at his clothes in exasperation; finally, she bit her top lip, her bottom jutting out wet and pink, and at the pleading look in her almond-shaped eyes his finger found its way between her thighs. “Oh!” she said, leaning against his hand, momentarily distracted. He rubbed nonchalantly for a few moments, allowing his finger to just brush against her sensitive skin before bringing a drop of her wetness up to his lips to taste.
“Delicious,” he murmured, and allowed her to pull him from his chair and finish stripping him. At his sudden nakedness she paused; she wanted to memorize every bit of his body, wanted to appreciate his every detail. She knew how he had felt through robes, but nothing compared to seeing him before her. In that moment every part of him was beauty incarnate. He saw her eyes raking over his body, saw her lips slightly parted, tongue between her teeth; saw the utter lust in every one of her movements, and knew that she really wanted him...that no matter what he might think about himself, to her, he was desirable. For a brief moment he thought back on all their time together, of the occasional brushed hand, accidental meetings of elbows, of how over time the space between them had gotten more...intimate. Give me my sin...
Coming out of her own revelry, seeing him lost in thought brought a smile to her lips. She watched his face a moment, as he took in her body, but he was somewhere farther away. “Where are you?” she asked, reaching out and tracing a finger along his shoulder, down his arm.
“I’m right here,” he said, jerking his eyes to hers as she began licking her way down his body; he was almost afraid to touch her then, afraid if he did whatever spell would be broken and he would wake up, alone. Any lingering insecurity he felt towards himself was swept away with her tongue, and he tilted his head to look down on her and smile.
He ran his hands down her shoulders, then up her neck, such creamy skin under his touch she was velvet, and she vibrated beneath his fingers. He cupped his hands under her chin, and brought her face up towards his, leaning down to meet her halfway in a kiss.
Oh, what a kiss...
Tongues twisting, teeth scraping, lips and mouth sucking as skin on skin they made their way to the bed, hands roaming over hot skin, never breaking contact with each other before Hermione found herself laying on the bed, Severus on top of her, pausing to catch his breath.
“Are you sure?” he whispered, looking into her eyes for any sign of doubt. She stared back at him, and in answer, brought his face back down to hers, bringing one thigh up to rub against the growing hardness between his legs. Without any more ado, he gently entered her, slowly, and watched her face as she bit her lip. Pulling out a bit, he waited until she nodded, then entered her again, slowly allowing her to warm up to the idea of him. She moaned, scratching her fingernails along his back, urging him on. He slowly began to find a pace, thrusting as gently as he could until she started gasping, bringing herself up to meet him each time. He sped up, faster, harder, her slightly frustrated moans egging him on.
He kept kissing her, wanting to feel her tongue in his mouth, his teeth under her tongue, her breasts and stomach rubbing against him as he kept on, waiting for each encouragement from her.
Her eyes smiled at him, her bottom lip clutched between her teeth as she stared at him, thrusting with him, in tune with him, staring in his eyes with as much concentration as when she was hanging on his every word in class. Her eyes were dark with lust, her brows slightly furrowed, her lips slightly curved upwards; he memorized her like this, in pleasure, in pain, not wanting to ever forget her or this experience with her. He pushed out of his head all thoughts of consequences, all thoughts of the morning, instead feeling only the moment, not thinking, not analyzing.
Hermione didn’t need to push any thoughts out of her head; they were gone the moment he entered her, and all she could think of, see, smell, feel was him. She finally understood...and she was in more pleasure then ever before in her life. She felt him quicken, and in his concentration his mouth lost contact with hers. She clumsily brought her lips up to his neck, biting and sucking for a few moments until she felt her orgasm start to build, pressure starting in her belly, her thighs, then exploding through her entire body. And then an entirely new feeling inside her as he went over the edge with her name across his lips. She felt her muscles relaxing, and her brain slowly started to turn back on.
He collapsed on top of her, still inside her, his mouth gently spreading kisses across the crook of her neck. He wanted to say something, but words failed him, and she felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin. Her arms came up around his back, and they lay there, contented, until they both fell asleep.
“Have you seen Hermione?” Ron asked Harry in the Gryffindore common room.
“Not for hours. Suppose she’s in the library. N.E.W.T.s are seven months away, after all.” Harry said with a grin.
Neither noticed Draco Malfoy in an invisibility cloak, slipping out through the same painting he had come through the day prior.
“I’ll bet I know where she is,” he said to himself, snickering, and headed in the direction of the dungeons.
Chapter 6 - Discovered
The door to the potions classroom was unwarded, much to Draco’s glee. He slipped in the room in shoes spelled to be soundless, and noticed a set of robes neatly folded beside the door. Tsk, tsk, so careless Granger. I thought you were smarter than that. Well, I know what ole Snape was thinking with at least...he thought, glancing towards the doorway to Snape’s office, and presumably, his private rooms. After pondering for a few moments, he picked up the robes and walked to the office door. It was locked, yet also unwarded, and a quick Alohamora allowed him entry. Quickly placing her robes on the desk in Snape’s office, he exited the rooms, his chest beating far too fast for his own comfort. Down, boy he reminded himself; yet couldn’t help but imagine what was going on in the next room. He distracted his errant track of mind by assuring himself of the shock they would both have when they found the robes. Wish I could be there to see it, he thought remorsefully, heading back to Slytherin with a smirk on his face and a gleam in his eyes.
Hermione was vaguely aware of something warm and hard atop of her. Nice, very nice, she thought, her mind drifting somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. For a few moments she enjoyed the vague feelings, comforted, before slipping back into unconsciousness.
Severus was dreaming of a quick-minded goddess, of perhaps one of the few people who didn’t flinch when he came near, and though he felt himself waking he fought to stay asleep. Is this what contentment feels like? He wondered, coming out of slumber and realizing he was sleeping on-and in-something warm and soft. Hermione, he opened his eyes to see her face, peaceful next to his. He took in the sprinkling of freckles on her cheeks, noticed how her eyelashes went from brown to blonde at the tips; her lips twitched almost imperceptivity in her sleep, and his eyes made their way down her neck, to her collar bone, and her breasts...
Suddenly he was very awake, and wanted nothing more than for her to wake up as well. He shifted slightly, and she moaned in her sleep. “Severus...” she muttered, not waking up.
“I’m right here,” he said, touching her lips with his fingers. Her eyes flew open, and she looked at him in shock. For a brief, frightening moment he thought maybe she regretted what had happened, but then those lips moved into a smile, and she spoke.
“I could get used to waking up like this,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.
“You should go back to your rooms, don’t you think?” he asked, kissing her neck.
“Mmm...” she said as he moved to her lips. “I should. It wouldn’t do to be out past curfew. I might get caught by a nasty professor and be sentenced to a weeks worth detention scrubbing cauldrons in his dungeons,” she said, her eyes smiling.
“Why you insolent little wench!” he said, smiling, “I’ll have to correct the error of your ways,” he said, and furiously began kissing her.
“Oh, please do,” she said, her hands teasing whatever skin she could reach. Who are you? She asked herself as she gave in to the feeling of him once more, and once more...
Dawn came after a very long night, and Severus went out to his classrooms to retrieve her discarded robes. He stopped in the doorway to his office, spotting them sitting on his desk. “Where did you say you left them?” he asked, his heartbeat quickening.
“Next to the door of the classroom. Why?” she said, walking up behind him and looking to see what he was staring at. “Oh,” was all she could think of to say, and she quickly scanned her head to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. “I came in, I took my robes off, and I left them right by the door before coming to your office.” She stated flatly, dread creeping up her spine.
“It would seem,” he hissed, “as though I neglected to ward my classroom last night in all my distraction,” he shot a piercing glare at her, and she felt his blame on her shoulders. She didn’t want to break eye contact, but suddenly she wanted nothing more than to be back in her room in Gryffindor, and so wordlessly she walked to the desk and dressed, feeling his eyes on her the entire time. She didn’t turn around and she walked out of his office, slamming the door behind her, and walking carefully out of the classroom before she allowed herself to start running back to her rooms.
Once there, she turned the bath on scalding and got in, scrubbing herself off. “Who the hell does he think he is?” she asked no one in particular. Gods, what have I done? I slept with Severus. Snape. I slept with Professor Snape. And oh Gods, if I didnt ent enjoy it. He was so...free. Relaxed. Almost happy. Well, I suppose that particular act makes everyone relaxed. It wasn’t my fault he didn’t put his bloody wards up. Who the hell moved my robes? She continued thinking, and somewhere in the back of her brain she remembered the comments Malfoy had made to her when he had snuck into their common room. She quickly abandoned that idea, not wanting to believe that he knew. Oh how will I look at Harry and Ron?
Back in his rooms, Professor Severus Snape was quite undone. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat down on the bed, inhaling her scent that lingered on his sheets.
“Bloody hell!” he yelled, and threw his glass across the room where it shattered and splashed against a bookshelf.
Chapter 7 - Fear
“Severus,” Albus Dumbledore’s face appeared in Severus’ fireplace with a *pop*.
“Yes, Albus?” he replied, scowling. He knew that Albus was only ever amused by his holy scowls as opposed to intimidated as many of the snts,nts, but he scowled nonetheless.
“Come to my office immediately,” Albus said, and while there was the familiar twinkle in his eyes, Severus could feel the weight behind the words. What has happened now? He wondered, not permitting himself to think that someone could have told the Headmaster about his indiscretions of the previous night. With a flap of cape, he marched to Dumbledore’s office, not even stopping to take points off of students who could never quite get out of his way fast enough.
*****
Hermione walked slowly to breakfast, her footsteps heavy with trepidation. She paused outside the doors to the great hall for a moment, and then walked in, her eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of recognition, any facial expression that would perhaps give away the identity of the person who moved her robes.
Across the hall, Draco was trying very, very hard not to laugh out loud when he saw the bushy-haired girl walk in, her lips a tight line across a colorless face (is that fear, Granger?), tired circles under her eyes. Guess she had a busy night, he thought, and then allowed his mind to wander to the subject of her and her...paramour...for a few moments. He caught himself just before she looked in his direction, quickly turning to tell his two dunderheaded bodyguards that he had forgotten something in his room and would see them in class.
Hermione noticed that Draco left the room like a bat out of hell soon after she entered. Guess it wasn’t him, after all. If it were, I’m sure he would have at least attempted a slight gloat before taking off. The only thing she could do was wait. And the only that irritated Hermione more than not knowing something was waiting to find out. She fussed with her food, occasionally looking up at the head table to see if Severus had come in; he hadn’t, and she felt a pang of regret and guilt as she pushed her plate away from her and stood to leave.
“Hey ‘Mione! Where were you last night?” she heard Ron ask.
Hermione’s heart jumped into her throat for a second, before Harry added, “Yeah, we wanted to ask your help with something but you were no where to be found. Not even in the library!”
“I was working on my project in the dungeons and I, uh, sort of fell asleep.” She answered, avoiding looking at Harry in his eyes. He is too perceptive for his own good sometimes! Ron started laughing, and something along the lines of “Hermione...dungeons...shackles...sleeping...” came out, but it was too garbled for her to make sense of. Maybe that’s for the best. Shackles? Hmm…no! stop that! How can you even think that water ter how cold he was this morning? She battled internally with herself, but he was so warm last night...
Her struggle must have been apparent on her face, because Harry waved a hand in front of it. “Are you in there, Hermione? You seem...tired.” Harry said, searching her face.
And how! Sore too, come to think of it, she thought, blushing, but instead answered, “I am a bit tired. Was having a problem getting some of my theories to work last night and-“
“You? You had problems getting something to work?” Ron interrupted, but before the grin on his face could get any larger Hermione shot him a deadly glare. Cor, she reminds me of Snape when she does that, he thought, and quickly wiped any signs of amusement off his face. “Well, it’s just, you know, you normally get things right on the first try...” Ron backpedaled.
“Well, except for that whole polyjuice episode...” Harry added, quickly shielding his chest from the playful punch Hermione threw in his direction. “Hey now, there’s no reason to get violent now,” he said, pinning her arms at her side and pulling her in for a hug.
“Let go of me, Harry!” she said, half-struggling against her much larger friend’s frame. Why do the boys get so big, argh!
Severus walked into the dining room just in time to see Hermione pulled into Potter’s embrace. He bristled at the implied intimacy between the two, and cringed at the slight pang of jealousy he felt towards they boy until he noticed that Hermione seemed to be struggling. Walking quickly towards them as the Weasley boy joined in by starting to tickle her, he growled under his breath.
“Release her at once, Mr. Potter,” he said in his most intimidating voice. “You and Mr. Weasley can come to detention tonight promptly at 7pm.” He added, and with a brief look at Hermione, stormed out of the room, forgetting his growling stomach.
Are they all territorial wankers? Good Gods, she thought, straightening her hair and starting to walk away. “Don’t worry boys,” she called over her shoulder, “I’m sure he won’t be too hard on you tonight,” and with that, she walked out of the dining room. Harry and Ron just stared at each other for a second, before sitting down to start a food-filled conversation about Quiddich.
*****
The note hadn’t been in her bag before potions. Which meant that someone must have slipped it in there at some point during potions.
Hermione-
I know what you did last night.
3rd corridor on the right past the potions room.
Midnight.
Tell anyone and your secret will be all over school faster than you can say “Quiddich.”
Sincerely,
Your Blackmailer
Damn, damn, damn! Hermione was fed up with cryptic messages after being friends with Harry and Ron for six years, she was fed up with complicated plans and sneaking around the grounds at night, and she was most definitely already sick of whoever this idiot was who fancied themselves a blackmailer. And I don’t even know their terms yet. Well, it’s not as though I’m going to like whatever they have in store for me.
The rest of the day went a little faster than Hermione would have preferred, and almost before she had time to rethink whether or not she should tell Severus or not, it was time for her to go meet with her “blackmailer.”
She was at the potions door, and she kept walking; one corridor, two, three...she walked down it, curving around and down (funny, I never noticed this before tonight) until it opened up into a great room with high ceilings. In the center of the room was a small table set for two, complete with candles and wine.
“Glad you could make it,” a voice said from the far corner of the room.
“Who’s there?” she said, walking towards the voice. “And what do you want!”
Stepping out of the shadows, Draco smiled. “Why, I want you, of course!”
Chapter 8 - Terms
Hermione almost stifled her laugh. Not quite, though. Draco frowned at her response to his (who is he kidding?) serious statement of intent. At his “What’s so funny?” she actually started laughing.
“Oh, just the thought of you, Mr. Deatheater-To-Be, blackmailing me! What are you going to do, make me drink wine and eat food until I agree to whatever sick and twisted terms I’m sure you’ve come up with?”
“Hmm, I’ll tell you the terms after we’ve eaten, I never negotiate on an empty stomach.” Draco responded, indicating she join him at the table.
With a rather audible sigh Hermione slumped down to a dinner of...well, she wasn’t quite sure what it was, exactly; some kind of fish on top of green potatoes. The color made her cringe, but it tasted fine, and she was so nervous she hadn’t noticed that she had gotten hungry in the anticipation of this meeting.
She attempted a few times to bring Draco to the point of the meeting, but he refused to speak with her about that yet, and would swiftly change the subject to something she was interested in, so well in fact that she didn’t even notice the first few times he did it. Damn, he was good.
“More wine?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
“Yes, thank you. What’s with the look you’re giving me?” she answered him.
“I didn’t envision Ms. Perfect Priss to be a big drinker, is all.” he said, refilling her glass.
She paused to take a sip before answering him. “Just because I do well in school and actually, on occasion, take the time to study does not mean that I am a complete stick in the mud!”
“Well, I knew that from the little show I got the other night of you and Snape!” Draco sneered, rubbing his hand along the neck of the wine bottle in a very...suggestive manner. Hermione could feel herself blushing, so she looked down and took another sip of wine. “How far down does that blush go, I wonder? Maybe I should ask Snape; think he would share with me?”
“Get to the point of this charade before I tire of you mocking me, Draco. You and I both know I could hex your bits off before you could even cross your legs,” Hermione snapped, indicating the wand she had pointed at him under the table.
“Fine, fine, no need to get snippy with me. Anyway, the terms are something I’m sure you can deal with. I need your help-don’t you dare laugh or I’ll hex your bits off-in pissing off the poofter I like to call dad. Of course, as a fringe benefit, I’ll also piss off Potty and Weasel, so this is generally a win-win situation for me. You have your own boyfriend who you can’t exactly tell anyone about, so this won’t be that big of a deal. I just need you to pretend…to be my girlfriend.” Draco smirked at her, “And maybe a few other things we can work out later,” he smiled, refilling both their wine glasses.
“Why the hell would you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? You do realize that short of pissing off your father, he would probably have me killed the moment he got wind of it? Or did you not think that far ahead?”
“Drat, you’re right. Wouldn’t want Hogwart’s best pupil going and getting herself killed by a bunch of nasty Deatheaters. Hmm. Lets see. What else do you have that I want...” There was no mistaking the nasty gleam in Draco’s eyes, and Hermione steeled herself for what she knew was sure to be either demoralizing, or embarrassing, or both. Draco looked at his watch before answering her silent question. “All I want is a normal conversation with you, and maybe a foot rub. Right now. There’s a sofa over near the door.” He answered, standing up and collecting their wine glasses and bottle.
Hermione snorted. “What? That can’t be it. There has to be something...something...more!”
“Disappointed? What makes you think that I would want to embarrass my Uncle Sev, anyway? I’m enjoying your company; let’s keep it that way.” he set down the glasses on the end table next to the sofa and sat down lengthwise, wiggling his toes in her general direction. “Foot rub! Now!” he snapped, smiling.
Once again Hermione was shocked by Draco complimenting her, but she quickly recovered and sat down to rub his feet. Maybe he’s not so bad... she thought to herself, as they continued to chat for the next few hours, until they were both quite tired. Neither noticed two sets of eyes peeking at them from the doorway.
“Thank you for a lovely evening, Hermione. I’ll clean up here; you should go to bed, I’m sure you still have homework or reading to do,” Draco said, holding his arms out as though he was going to hug her. Hermione eyed him suspiciously before joining his embrace, and she wasn’t at all surprised when she felt his hand on her ass. Two can play at this, she thought.
“I had a lovely time as well, who knew you were such a suave fellow,” she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I hope we can do this again,” and with that, she brought his face to hers for a nice, long kiss. When Draco’s hands made their way to her breasts, she broke it off, and stalked out of the room without a backwards glance.
“Damn.” He said after her, his reaction to her something that he really could no longer deny, either to himself or to anyone else who was in the room. He sat down and finished his glass of wine and didn’t notice when the two sets of eyes that had been watching him stalked off.
Chapter 9 - Introspection
Severus Snape noticed the empty work bench as he walked out of the dungeons towards Dumbledore’s office and felt a pang of regret. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he missed the girl. Young woman, he silently corrected himself. It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen her in such a very long time; it was more that he missed her because somewhere on that y-chromosome of his, he knew that he was in trouble the next time he saw her. Why should I be worried? It is she who was so careless leaving her things laying about for anyone to find. Then again, I didn’t ward the classroom. Gods, who would have remembered to do anything after seeing her naked…
He was past the point of feeling resentful for Hermione’s invasion into his life. He had never been a touchy-feely, hug-giving, let’s-share-our-feelings kind of guy, and as much as he tried to tell himself that was how he liked it, there was a part of him that really yearned for something as simple as basic intimacy. Not even sex, though the sex was magnificent, but just the comfortable silences he shared with Hermione while they worked along side one another; the way she would sometimes jump ahead in a train of thought he was having (and as much as he would scold her and remind her what a know-it-all she was, that had to be one of her most fantastic qualities), and of course, the fact that she was a hot tart in bed helped a bit, too.
Normally, he stayed safe from ever getting too...involved...with a student. He did this as simply as possible; he refused to think of them as anything other than students. He may have the occasional fantasy about them (the man is human) but always, with their Hogwarts robes on, always on the grounds of Hogwarts, and they always called him “Professor.” Hermione had gotten through his finely-honed defense mechanism by breaking out of his preconceived notions of what students were, and how they behaved around him. He had done research projects with students before, but they generally could never get over their initial, throw-back to first-year fear of him. Hermione hadn’t been scared of him since some time halfway through fifth year, and as frustrating as that was when she didn’t seem to mind his threats, scowls, and temper tantrums in class, it was a gift to him when they were working side by side in his lab. Never before had a student met him on such an equal playing field. So slowly, in his head, she began to switch from “student” to “lab partner.” And after that, as much as he tried to ignore it, she went from “lab partner” to “young woman,” at which point he knew he was doomed.
When he tried to think back to her first year, all he could remember was a bushy-haired girl who insisted on raising her hand for every question. It was easy for him to dissociate that Hermione with the one he knew now; she had finally tamed both the hair and the habit of answering every question. He could even compartmentalize the Hermione he saw in class from the one he worked with in lab, but he couldn’t separate the one in his bed from the one who he shared so many quality hours debating, talking, and experimenting with. Maybe it was because that was how he had gotten to know her, but to separate further would be...crude?
He wondered how she saw him, though. Was this a silly school girl crush on a professor? Or did she actually see something in him? He had thought she might, but self-doubting was one of Severus’s favorite pastimes. It was almost pathetic how he attempted to distance himself so from everyone around him yet jumped like a little lost puppy whenever Dumbledore snapped his fingers; when would he erase the guilt and feel free to finally live his life? How smart is it to be dragging Hermione into your life? Suddenly he felt very guilty. It wasn’t fair of him to allow her to get attached, was it? What if one of these days Voldemort got bored with watching him squirm? Where would she be then? No, I’m going to be selfish for once in this Godsforsaken life.
He decided that he would figure things out as they came along. Suddenly he realized he was almost at Dumbledore’s office, so he tried to shake random thoughts from his head. Sometimes I think that man is psychic.
The gargoyle moved away for him after he snapped the password (cherry sno-cone, honestly, does he do this to drive me crazy?) and he stomped the stairs to Dumbledore’s office. Good Gods, he is the epitome of wizard packrat behavior.
“Ah, Severus, thank you for coming here so soon. It seems we have something that needs to be dealt with that young Mr. Malfoy here has brought to my attention,” Dumbledore said, indicating Severus take a seat. For a moment he felt his stomach flip-flop, but he quickly pushed the sensation out of his body and sat, clasping his hands in his lap.
“Draco, why don’t you tell Professor Snape what you told me,” Dumbledore said, holding out a candy dish for both of his guests. After briefly shaking his head, Draco began to tell his story.
Chapter 10 – It’s Raining Men
When it rained, it poured. Well, not really poured, since she wasn’t actually attracted to Draco. But it had been fun messing with his head. I should have kissed more boys, she thought, before questioning, before what? Now? Will I not be kissing boys in the future? Get a grip. So you’ve slept with him. It’s not like you each professed undying love. It’s not like there’s a ring on my finger. Hermione was for probably one of the few times in her life staring at an open book, yet not reading it. The previous night with Draco had been...surprisingly fun! Who knew he had it in him to be anything less than a narcissistic prig? Of course, she was just attempting to think about something else, for a change. The only thing she had thought about over the past couple days had been, well, Snape, and she was beginning to feel like a fool for fawning so. Yet why should I? I shared something with him I haven’t shared with anyone else before. I shouldn’t feel guilty for that.
Yet, he hadn’t exactly been a saint the next day. Of course, she could probably let him know all about Draco and he would calm down; and that’s exactly what I’ll do. Grinning, she began walking to class, and anyone who saw her probably wondered what the big, silly grin was all about.
After a potion-free day of floating through classes, Hermione found herself staring at the ceiling until she realized that she was far too wired to even begin to think about sleep. Knowing she would get more work done in the library, she grabbed her bag and left, hurrying towards the library with an urgency not just of the need to get work done, but also because somewhere in the back of her head she might have had thoughts of stopping by the potions lab for a quick...chat wit with Severus.
So intent she was on getting to the library without letting her brain think about what could happen later, she didn’t hear the rustle of robes around the corner. So oblivious she was that when a hand reached out and pulled her into a crevice in the wall, she didn’t even think to call out. Stumbling over whoever's foot, she landed hard on her back, and before she could react to the pain a wet cloth was placed over her mouth, and she plunged into blackness.
Through the fog in her head, she could hear two slightly familiar male voices, yet she was unable to place them before blackness overcame her vision.
Hermione was awake, but she hadn’t let that on yet. Beneath her she could feel something soft, and around her face she felt a blindfold. She realized she must be in a full body-bind, since she couldn’t even move.
“How much are we getting paid for this?” she
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