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To Gild the Lily	By : FlamingSilverTempest Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 8222 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Harry Potter world. They belong to JKR and I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Truth that Lies at the bottom of a Bottle
- 1
My first SS/HG and its.. well not the average for the ship. Read on... and review! ;o)

The Truth that lies at the Bottom of a Bottle

            How much had he drunk? God knows because she was sanding in front of him, long red hair falling about her shoulders, rousing him gently from his alcoholic stupor. Her soft hands brushed the hair from his face. ‘Severus? Can you hear me?’

            ‘Lily! Oh god, you’re here…’ he fumbled the words as he tried to stand, to hold her. She was as radiant and beautiful as he remembered her. ‘Love, I’m sorry. If you only knew.’

            She helped him to his feet. He reeked of whiskey and was none to steady standing. ‘No, Severus, it’s-’

            But his lips cut off her words as he took them in a forceful kiss. Her lips bruised under the crush of his and she tried to stop him. Her protest was all for nothing though as he tightened his arms around her and she felt tears on her cheeks as he began to whisper a desperate litany of apologies and love to her through the kiss, his voice thick with emotion. It was like a dam inside him had broken and years of remorse and passion was now pouring out and the force of it bowled her over. For a brief moment she forgot herself and kissed him back. It had been so long since she’d been kissed, touched.

            The response from him was heartbreaking when she joined the kiss. More tears fell, he gave a strangled sigh that almost became a sob and he backed her up against the bookcase behind them, cushioning her head with his hand as he pressed his full length against her.

            His hands tugged at the tie of her dress as he kissed her neck, burying his face in the hair that he loved so much. ‘Been waiting so long, please my darling…’ he whispered so tenderly she could not refuse him, though knew she should. He untied her dress and she unbuttoned his trousers. Both garments fell to the floor and he was once again upon her, kissing her collarbones, the swell of her breasts while grinding his hips into hers. Despite herself she weakened with arousal and reached round to cup his backside. Quickly he pulled her knickers aside and hooked one of her legs over his hip before thrusting deeply into the heaven of her body. ‘Oh god Lily… needed you… loved you always…’ he gasped as he thrust into her still drunk and his head spinning as pleasure overtook reason.

She was not ready for him and he hurt her. ‘Severus please…’ she moaned trying to bring his head up to look at him but he nuzzled further into the hollow of her neck as he pulled them gracelessly to the floor.

‘Love you…always you… always,’ he groaned as he began to thrust in earnest, desperate for the release he had never had, the bliss he’d always wanted. She winced in pain as the carpet chafed her back and he gripped her waist tightly as he came to crisis deep inside her, and promptly passed out atop her.

Well this is awkward, thought Hermione as she struggled to breathe under the snoring wizard.

<><><><><><><>

The following morning Severus regained consciousness very reluctantly. His head was throbbing and his stomach lurched. Opening one eye he sat up slightly and found himself in his bedroom though could not remember turning in. He had dreamt though and the emotional hangover he felt far out weighed the pain of the physical. Only in his dreams could he get anywhere close to the woman he used to love, always to have the image and feeling ripped from him upon waking. Though this morning he felt more drained than usual. He slumped back on the pillows and glanced at the small carriage clock at his bedside that told him he’d over slept to the tune of half past one in the afternoon. Curiously though there was a still warm cup of tea next to the clock. Propping himself up properly this time he brought the cup to his nose. The murky contents smelled clean and vaguely of peppermint and willow bark. A tincture, one of his own making, for his head and stomach which were immediately soothed as he sipped the tea. But… who?

A soft clatter from somewhere in the direction of his kitchen answered his question. How could he have forgotten? He was supposed to have had dinner with Hermione last night. Far less annoying as an adult, she and Severus had struck up a friendship, of proximity at first at various academic events and the like as she asserted her fierce intelligence on the outdated thinkers currently in charge and challenged established traditions. Soon their acquaintanceship developed in its own right and they enjoyed the rare satisfaction of talking to someone with a comparable intellect. And he had missed dinner last night.

Had she lived it would have been his loves birthday. Once the fact had struck him he was fit for nothing but firewhiskey last night. He should have owled Hermione. He would make it up to her.

He slowly dressed, still feeling shaky but the tea was helping. Why were there carpet burns on his knees? Did he fall over last night? With each stair he descended the feeling of guilt increased. Rounding the corner into the living room, his spirits sank further as he saw that she had tided up. Not the he was overly messy domestically but books did have a tendency to pile up by his armchair. Perhaps teacups did find themselves in unusual places sometimes. But the small, book crowded living room positively gleamed and even now he could hear her clattering around the kitchen. No doubt that would be a spotless as the living room.

Not overly familiar with the feeling of sheepishness Severus pushed the kitchen door open and saw Hermione washing dishes in the sink. Long skirts today, which swung like a bell as she moved paired with a plain white shirt, cuffs rolled up as she cleaned his crockery. A pot of some sort of stew was gently bubbling on the stove and she turned to him, with a look of apprehension that seemed out of place given the scene of domestic bliss.

‘Good morning’, she said nervously.

‘Good afternoon’, he corrected. ‘I missed dinner, I’m sorry. Did you come over this morning?’

She shook her head. ‘No, I came to find you last night when you didn’t show up. I got this feeling, and I was worried. I found you passed out in the chair. And I… well, I put you to bed.’ Why did she seem so uncomfortable? ‘Severus, do you remember what happened last night at all?’ she asked, drying her hands on a dishtowel.

‘I remembered, it was... a friends birthday. She’s dead. I remember drinking. I should have let you know I would break our arrangement.’

Hermione sat with him at the table and put another cup of the restorative tea in front of him. She looked like she was steeling herself to say something. What had he said? If she had found him in that state he was sure he would have managed to put his foot in it somehow.

‘It was Lily Potters birthday wasn’t it?’ she asked, looking down at the table.

The bottom fell out of his stomach and he spluttered on his tea. ‘How did you know?’ he asked through coughing.

‘I think you were very drunk, you were so out of it. I think you mistook me for…’ She trailed off, unable to complete the sentence. Unable to tell him that he had forced himself upon her and though she knew it was not she he saw or sought she had let him carry on just to feel him touch her. How do you tell a man twice your age, who used to teach you no less that you were in love with him?

The fog of last night slowly cleared and Severus regained the memory of what they had done. What he had done to her. He suddenly pushed away from the table, knocking over his chair and went back into the living room furious at himself. Hermione remained at the table in shocked silence. This was a situation on a knife edge and she wasn’t going to make it worse by questioning him. It didn’t take a genius to work out what he was feeling. She just hoped she would get the chance to say that she was not offended.

He paced the living room. ‘How could you let me… I didn’t know…’ In his energetic raging a book fell from it’s already precarious position on a bookcase and rolled into his path. He kicked it with incredible force into the wall where it left a dent.

‘Severus please’, she said softly from the doorway, ‘I underst-‘

‘No Hermione!’ he thundered, the anger in his voice making her jump, though it was directed at himself. ‘What I did was unforgivable so don’t even try to justify it. I was being stupidly self-indulgent and clearly out of my mind and should never have done… that to you. You should leave. You are a dear friend but I can’t bear to think of my hurting you like that’.

‘You didn’t hurt me. Not really.’ Her voice was small and tentative in the face of his furor.

He sank into the chair and rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. ‘That is not the point. I could have. I was out of control. That can never happen again. I wont let it and you should not stay here any longer, for your own good.’

If only she could tell him she longed to hold him again. As unorthodox as their first intimacy had been she wanted more. The heartbreak of being mistaken for a dead woman did not affect her as much as maybe it should. She knew the scars on his heart may never heal but she thought if given the chance, they might fade with a little love. He was reaching out for contact. Last night proved as much but women were not exactly queuing up for him. Who could expect a heart to heal if no one new cared for and nurtured it? You heal when you are needed. You learn to feel again when someone wants you and no one had needed or wanted Severus Snape for years. Over their time together she had seen how closed off he had become emotionally. She couldn’t exactly blame him. The one time he had reached out to someone he had been manipulated by that declaration for the next 16 years. No wonder he was as closed off as he was. Maybe now the time was right. Though he would not admit it in a million years. It may take a bold gesture to get him to see the truth of things. ‘Never ever again?’

Her questioning tone made him look up. ‘What do you mean?’

Ok Courage, get ready to be screwed to that sticking place she thought. ‘Severus you are a blind fool sometimes’. Her sweet smile completely disarmed him. As she crossed the room he leaned back into the chair and when she hitched up her skirts and straddled his lap, took his face in her hands and kissed him she may as well have hit him with a stunning spell foursquare in the chest. For a moment he didn’t know what to do with the woman on his lap but she persisted in her kissing, keeping his lips captured in hers and tightening her hold on him with her legs. Then he melted, wrapping his hands around her and holding her tight to him. She smiled into the kiss and deepened it, moving her hands across his back and shoulders, molding her hands to him. He sighed at the intimacy of the contact. It was something he’d not felt in years and now he was feeling it he didn’t know how he could stop. Long dead emotion welled up inside him and he felt tears falling down his cheeks against his will. She was so soft and utterly giving herself to him in this kiss he was undone by it and glad he was safe in a chair for it no doubt would have knocked him off his feet.

            He was kissing her back! Her heart would have done backflips in celebration were it able. He was holding her waist and tentatively moving his hands to her hips. She moved her lips in sync with his, drawing him into the tenderness of her feelings for him, enveloping him in her love. He sighed as she drew back for breath, still gently holding his lower lip between hers. She tenderly wiped away the tears from his cheeks and captured his mouth with hers once more, pressing her whole body to his this time. He seemed open to her but she sensed that he would not be the one to take things to the next level. No matter. She would happily take the lead. She adored the way his lips felt under hers. He needed a shave and his stubble glinted with the first signs of silver but it only served to make him more beautiful to her. His hands were large and she could feel that he knew what to do with a woman. That knowledge just needed to be unlocked and she was happy to lead the way.

            She could feel his arousal between them. His cock had been growing steadily harder as she continued to kiss him. So now she rolled her hips forward, putting pressure on the firming flesh and reveled in the groan she brought from him. He arched into the chair a little, just hinting at a desire to thrust up into her, the ghost of a movement. She was not a tease though, and as intimate as she hoped they would become simplicity was what her body craved.

She reached between them and unbuttoned his trousers, untangling his impressive erection from the fabric of his undergarments. He pulled away from the kiss and looked up at her, almost in wonder.

‘Do you really want…?’ he trailed off.

‘I really want.’ He took her skirts and drew them up to her hips for her as her hand levered his now desperate cock towards the warm space between her thighs. With a deft twist of her thumb she had pulled her knickers aside and slid the head of him between the soft wet lips of her cunt. He let his head fall back and pulled in a heavy, labored breath as she slid him back and forth between her legs, teasing them both and covering him in her juices. The feeling was heartbreaking. And then she sank slowly onto him until he was in her to the hilt. She stayed still for a moment, letting them adjust to the feeling and to her surprise it was he who began to move, slowly thrusting up further, lifting her up and making her smile.

‘I need you Severus’, she moaned as they tighten their hold on one another.

Unable to bear the tenderness in her voice he buried his face into the hollow of her neck, kissing her collarbone. ‘Thank you’, he replied as he found an easy rhythm with her body he thought he’d forgotten.

*@*@*@*@*@

She is astounding. I do not deserve her. Not then and certainly not now. She doesn’t ask anything and she never makes a fuss. She knows better than most what I’m like. For some reason this doesn’t matter to her. She is happy. I cannot believe I am doing this to her. Just because she is not her.

            I can never tell her or anyone. Even if I get over it and stop doing it, she can never know. And if I cant stop it… well I’ll just have to deal with that when it happens. If the guilt of taking her in my drunken sleep is bad it is nothing compared to what I sometimes do when I am sober.

            She is coming towards me now with that warm smile and the glint in her eye that means I’m in for a wonderful evening. I wave my hand, she thinks to lock the wards of the house while we are still in possession of our senses. And that’s true, the wards do lock. But something else happens too. A glamour charm for my eyes only. She straddles my lap like she did the first time and I run my fingers through her hair. Hair that has gone from brown to red. A silky deep red. Like a girl I used to know.
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To Gild the Lily