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The Yule Ball	By : Lucreace Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 12558 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I make no money from these words

Chapter List
- 1-The Yule Ball
- 1
Hermione leaned against the side of the Great Hall and watched the dancers twirl round and round. The huge tree took centre place on the dais at the front of the room. It was trimmed to perfection as it always was but the cheer was a little lost on her. Even the twinkling lights and the dancing decorations did little to lift her mood. She nursed a glass of red, the same one she’d had all night, and let out a sigh. The bitter sweet memories of this time of year always made her melancholy. Always at Christmas, when everyone else was wrapped up in their families and their loved ones did she feel the keen sting of loss. She wasn’t even sure why she bothered coming to these events really. Perhaps it was to keep Minerva’s nose out of her business. The well-meaning headmistress was insistent that she keep a public profile and if she hid for too long, she’d start meddling.
The witch meant well and it wasn’t as though she was a complete hermit. Since she’d started working at the ministry, she found her life revolved around her work. She knew it probably wasn’t healthy and that she should make more of an effort to get out but she loved what she did. Most of it was office based but when she did manage to get out in the field on a case, it was so exciting. Her team was currently working on finding the location of the last pocket of Death Eaters. They’d made a break through a couple of days ago and the thought of going after them finally sent a shiver through her.
Her eyes swept the room once more; so many colours swirled from the dancers on the floor. A myriad of colours painting the hall with joy as the couples turned and twisted skilfully. Dancing wasn’t something she had much patience for. While Ron had been alive, they’d danced together with abandon but now, now he was gone she couldn’t conjure the enthusiasm for it. The thought of someone else’s arms around her was just… well it wouldn’t feel right. Even a year on from his death, she still felt the keen sting of loss. She took a small sip of the red liquid and turned her eyes away, trying to banish the memories from her mind.
“Come now Granger, it can’t be that bad.” Ah, here it came, the verbal sparring that was a sort of tradition between her and her erstwhile potions professor. She looked up into cold black eyes and snorted.
“I don’t see you joining the dancers.” Her retort was lame and he knew it. The raised brow and the arrogant flick of his head gave it away.
“I thought I was the chief mope at these functions but I find that you’re putting even me to shame, even I manage to drink until I can bear it.” He raised his wine glass and joined her in leaning against the wall and scowling at everyone who walked by. She looked over him sidelong and he smirked under her scrutiny. He was tall, yet not as tall as she remembered and had he bothered to wash that oily hair? He hadn’t made any effort to change his usual dour garb. Still, she could smell the cologne he wore, subtle sandalwood, it put her in mind of something but she couldn’t quite remember what it was.
She raised her glass with his and smirked, “To Christmas then?” He nodded, clinked his glass on hers before sipping the wine.
Her eyes turned back to the dancers and she let out a small sigh. Despite the fact she hated them all, the music was off, the colours were gaudy and half of them were too busy fondling or snogging each other to really dance, she was jealous. She scratched the side of her head with a long finger and shook her head, she must be getting sentimental.
“Do you wish to dance Granger?”
“Are you offering Snape?” she asked back, knowing full well that he would never condescend to do so himself.
“There’s a lad over there that’s been staring at you all evening, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind doing so.” There was a smirk on his face and she shook her head.
“If he wants to dance, he can come and bloody ask me,” she snapped back. She took another sip of wine and straightened up somewhat. Despite her rebuttal, she looked over at the boy. That’s all he was, nothing more than sixteen if she had to guess and that was far too young for her tastes. “Besides, he’s far too young!”
“Interested in older men now are we?”
Hermione nearly spat her mouthful of wine over him as he raised a brow. Was he flirting with her? She rather thought he was. “Older than twelve!” she snapped back before she could think any further on the subject of Professor Snape flirting.
“Then how about that fellow over there?” He indicated another student who looked a little too green for her liking.
“He’d likely puke down my back and quite frankly, that’s an experience I would like to avoid,” she replied.
“You really are hard to please…” he muttered as he took another sip of wine. “I’m afraid the rest of the crowd are either otherwise engaged or ancient.”
“Oh come now, not all of them are ancient, I think I’d settle on merely decrepit…” This time, it was her who raised a brow and he who looked to be choking on his wine. “Unless you care to prove to me that you haven’t yet reached that stage?”
“You want me to turn you round that floor?” his narrowed eyes gave nothing away and she flushed a little.
“Why not? No one else is going to ask and I do believe you have a point to prove, old man.” Her mouth tugged into a smile as he took her glass from her and placed it on the table beside him. He didn’t say anything else merely took her hand and led her to the dancefloor. Once there, he placed a firm hand on her waist, the other he held gently. When the band struck up the next tune, she found herself moving around the floor in time with the other dancers.
The ability of the dark man who held her so firmly came as a surprise and it wasn’t long before she was relaxed and enjoying the turns and twists of the dance. Although he kept the distance between them sensible and chaste, she couldn’t help feel a surge of warmth at his proximity. His scent, not only the sandalwood but his own musky maleness engulfed her senses and she found her breathing quickening.
“Now who is getting too old for dancing?” he whispered as he dipped her into a spin.
“Pardon?” she asked as she stepped a little closer to him. “I didn’t hear what you said.”
“Liar,” he snorted. She smirked, giving herself away but noted that he didn’t pull away when she’d moved in. The song slowed and she found that instead of parting and returning to the side of the floor like they should have, he continued to hold her. The touch of his hand on the small of her back supported her more than she realised and slowly, tentatively, she laid her head on his shoulder. When he didn’t pull away, she slipped her arms up his back and relaxed. The dancing turned into a slow rocking that had their bodies moving in unison.
The music stopped and after a pause that was a little longer than strictly necessary, she reluctantly pulled away. He kept his hand on the small of her back and guided her back to their leaning spot. Once there, she took her glass of wine and took a sip, just to cool her flaming cheeks, she told herself.
“Well?” he said. She looked across at him and noted his smug expression. Her smile crept back onto her face and she nodded.
“Not bad for an old duffer!” she replied before taking another sip of wine. He rolled his eyes dramatically and drained his glass. A laugh escaped her lips and she shook her head, “It was lovely Severus. I’ve not danced like that for a long time.”
“First name terms now are we?”
“I’ve not been your student for a few years now; it seems a bit ridiculous if you ask me.” He conceded her point and she too drained her glass.
“So then, Hermione, what do you plan to do for the rest of the detestable evening?”
“Leaving.” She placed her glass down on the table and shrugged. An unnamed emotion flickered through his dark eyes for a moment before he nodded.
“I see.”
She looked him up and down and smirked, “Well, are you coming with me or is this party so enthralling that you can’t tear yourself away?” Hermione didn’t wait to see the look on his face or to see whether he followed her. She strode forwards towards the door and left the kids and teachers to their revelry. When she reached the main entrance, she paused and took a deep breath. Sure footsteps behind her made her pause. What the hell was she doing? She ran a hand over her face and through her thick hair, pushing it back from her face. As soon as he’d caught up to her, she darted out the door and into the cold air, maybe that would clear her thoughts.
After a moment, she stopped and shivered, her evening gown wasn’t the best gear to be walking around in the cold. The sky was clear and the night was still. “Where are we going?” he asked as he drew alongside her.
“I don’t know,” she replied.
“Hermione-“ She cut him off with a gesture and shook her head. A shiver passed through her and she folded her arms over her chest. In less than a moment, he’d engulfed her in his arms, “Silly girl,” he whispered into her hair. A small smile crossed her face and she let herself be held for a long moment. When she tried to pull back, he held on to her for a moment.
“What are we doing Severus?” she whispered. Somehow, between the Great Hall and here, she’d lost her way. She glanced up and caught his black eyes, an unknown emotion glittered in them and she swallowed hard. His embrace was far more comforting than she could imagine, his scent hit her once more and her legs began to tremble. The way his black hair fell over his face, the feeling of his rough woollen frock coat under the tips of her fingers and the way his wine-sweet breath tickled her cheek was enough to make her flush. The realisation that she desired this man hit her and she returned his embrace.
“I don’t know Hermione,” he replied softly. Carefully, with a shaking hand, she reached up and ran the tips of her icy fingers along his cheek, “Merlin! You’re freezing!” he cursed. She couldn’t help but giggle.
“Get me to the apparition point and I’ll take us home.” Her point was emphasised by a delighted squeeze that she placed on his waist.
“Home?”
“My flat’s going to be damned cold now.”
“And what am I to do about that?” he asked. She began to argue the point but her tucked her hand under his arm and led her away from the castle.
“I’ll make coffee for a start.”
“And then?”
“We’ll drink it.”
“Obviously…”
“I’m sure we’ll talk and I have a nice blanket which we can keep warm under.” Hermione said. They’d reached the gates and she stopped him with a squeeze on his bicep. She caught his eyes again when he turned to face her and that trembling in the back of her knees started all over again. How had she never noticed the depths of those eyes before? Her eyes flicked down his face to his thin lips, her own parted slightly. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat. She tiled her head a little in order to get a better view of his striking features, his nose was large, true and maybe his skin was a little pale but the emotion rolling through his eyes left her shaking.
“Come on, you’re shaking with cold, get us there quickly,” he hissed. The bite of his words was taken out by the firm squeeze he gave her hand. She shook her head, clearing it of the thoughts that rocketed through her and focused on her home. Releasing the magic, a crack sounded and they stood in the centre of her flat.
Her flat was cold, dark and she had to admit, rather forbidding. A quick flick of her wand had the lights up and she took a step back reluctantly. His arms around her were warm and the cold soon flooded in where his body had been pressed against hers. At least the place was tidy.
“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll get us some coffee.” She scooted out the room and into the kitchen before she could say another word. Now they were in the light and out of the heady atmosphere of the Great Hall, she flushed with embarrassment. What in Merlin’s name was she thinking? The kettle flicked off and she poured the drinks. Still, conversation with Severus was never a bad thing, she thought as she carried the coffee through to her small living room.
“Your flat is freezing,” Severus said as she handed him the coffee. He’d already found the blanket she had mentioned before and pulled it over his legs. Hermione nodded and joined him underneath it.
“I very rarely spend time here,” she shrugged as she wrapped cold fingers around her mug. She noted that he did the same as he took another sweeping look around the place. There were no Christmas decorations up, not much of anything at all really; it was sparse and clinical now she thought about it.
“Where were you planning to spend the holidays?” he asked.
“Here, well, between here and work really.” He raised a brow at this admission, “Oh come now, I can’t imagine your rooms in the dungeon being festooned with trimmings and other such nonsense.”
“No, the castle does it for me,” he replied drily.
“And I can see you find that a terrible nuisance.” She sipped her coffee and stole a sidelong glance at him. She noted the smirk grow at the corner of his mouth, which he covered hastily with his mug. “Truth is, I’m at a loss what to do this year.”
“Oh?”
“Without my parents, Ron or Harry around, I figured I’d just work through it. Sounds pathetic now I think about it.”
“It’s how I spend most of mine,” he replied, “There’s nothing pathetic about it.” He spoke confidently yet his eyes looked troubled. Slowly, the realisation that he may be as lonely as she was hit her and she placed her mug to the side. He looked down at her and her heart lurched. Her pulse quickened and she knew she had to use every drop of her courage to get through this first barrier. Taking his hand in hers, she gave it a soft squeeze. He laced his fingers between hers and just looked at her. His intense gaze made her shift her weight in a way that was not too dissimilar to how it made her feel in class.
The look in his eyes reflected hers and she realised, without a doubt, that he desired her. His eyes flicked over her face, focused on her mouth for a moment before finding her gaze once more. Slowly, the distance between them closed and her lips brushed against his. They were soft and moist, the sensation of them on hers sent a gentle tingle down her spine and when he pulled back an inch, she found she wanted more.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he mumbled under his breath. Hermione answered by kissing him again. This time, her hand came up to caress his cheek. The skin was cool and smooth under her hand. Slowly, she pushed it into his fine, black hair, holding it just behind his ear. His movements became explorative too and she knew he wanted to examine her as she’d begun to do so with him.
Breaking the kiss a moment, she whispered, “It’s alright, I think we both want this.” With that, his hands were in her hair, holding the nape of her neck while his tongue probed her lips. She yielded instantly, granting him access to her mouth. His taste engulfed her senses, coffee, wine and something else, something unique, something that must be him and him alone. It was intoxicating. Her tongue curled around his, anxious to consume more of his sweetness. She wanted to take all he had to offer her and by the way his mouth moved over hers, he was of a like mind.
This time, he was the one to pull away. Her eyes ravaged his face and she noted that he was flushed and a little short of breath. Her heart pounded in her ears, “What are we doing?” he whispered. A flicker of uncertainty crossed his usually confident face and she brushed her hand over his cheek once more.
“I can’t say, but I don’t want to stop.” She silenced his response with her mouth, once more taking all she could from his sweet lips.
A hand crept to her shoulder and drew her closer. Finding herself pressed against his chest, she kept their mouths together, not wanting to part just yet. His unique flavour flooded her once more and she shifted to find the best angle in which to plunder his mouth. The scent of his clothes hit her as she moved, sandalwood and masculinity washed over her, sending a shiver straight to her centre. Hands circled her waist and shifted her, pulling her into his lap.
“You still don’t want to stop?” He asked when he surfaced for a breath.
“Oh no. I could go on kissing you like this for a very long time,” she replied. He placed a gentle kiss on her neck, nibbling as he descended to her collarbone. Those long fingers twinned in her hair and she gasped as his wet tongue suckled on her skin.
“I may not be able to stop if this continues.”
Moving so her knees were either side of his narrow hips she grinned, “Me neither,” she replied. All traces of uncertainty had left his face, replaced with a look of wolfish lust. She felt as though he were about to devour her and a wave shocked through her. His hands dropped to her bum and she wiggled against him.
Hands plucked at the buttons of his coat as she resumed her assault on his mouth. It wasn’t one sided. He found the zip of her dress and tugged it down as she pulled open the neck of his collar. Her mouth was on his neck, nibbling and sucking as he to her. It was here that she discovered the extent of his desire and lust. Nudging her crotch as she moved, his erection sent a clear message. She bumped against it and he let out a gasp.
Slowly, she eased off him and got to her feet. His expression was shielded by his black hair but she managed to catch the look of disappointment as she rose. Holding out her hand, he took it and she led him silently to her bedroom. “My couch isn’t going to be the best place for this.”
A smirk curled up the edges of his usually harsh mouth and he nodded. Not needing a further prompt, Hermione placed her hand on his chest and urged him backwards to the bed. As she moved, the dress she wore slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet. Stepping out of it, she saw his eyes widen at the sight of her in nothing but her underwear. “Now this is hardly fair!” she said as he sank onto the edge of the bed.
“What do you mean?” he frowned.
“I’m hardly wearing anything and you’re still dressed.” Her hands began working on the buttons of his coat once more. He batted her hand away and did the job himself. Seconds later, he was shirtless and looking at her expectantly. Hermione took a moment to admire him, he was lean, not particularly muscular but the strength was evident in his wiry body. He was scarred, most of them white and faded now and a smattering of black hair covered his chest and descended beneath the belt of his trousers. “Those too!” she pointed insistently. He rolled his eyes at her and rose.
“Ever the bossy one…” he muttered as he flicked his belt loose, “I must insist you lose the shoes,” he added as he worked at the button. She complied with his request and slipped out of her heels. His trousers joined the rest of his clothing on the floor and she raised a brow. His black satin underwear wasn’t what she’d been expecting and she smirked. She didn’t know what she had been expecting but that wasn’t it! “Get over here,” he insisted.
“Don’t have to tell me twice…” she answered and strode over to him. His arms curled around her and she found herself gently placed on the bed. His warmth engulfed her once more and their mouths collided. Curling her hands around his shoulders, she pulled him close against her, writhing up as his body covered hers. “Merlin, you smell wonderful,” she whispered as his scent hit her once more. He snorted at her compliment but didn’t dispute it.
Then his hands began to wander over her body. He shifted to the side of her and began his explorations. She watched with a curious eye as he gently ran his palms down her shoulders and arms and then back up again. The hairs on her arms stood on end and she shivered. It had nothing to do with the cold air. His hand cupped her breast, still hidden in her bra and she sighed. As he pinched her nipple between his fingers, her teeth tingled and a jolt hit her core. Unable to keep her hands to herself, she brought hers up and began her own explorations. Doing her best to find his sensitive spots, she ran her nails over his back, delighting in the sharp intake of breath he made.
“Does that feel good?” she whispered. He grunted a response and fumbled with the hook of her bra. Rising slightly, she allowed him easier access and the garment fell away moment later. His mouth replaced his fingers and it was her turn to groan.
“Tell me,” he purred in that rich dark brown voice of his, “Does that feel good?” She smiled as he used her own question against her and nodded. The throbbing between her thighs intensified and she arched against him.
“Make love to me…” she hissed.
His smile was wolfish and his hand moved to slip beneath the waistband of her knickers. A finger slid into her cleft, finding her slick, “You’re certainly ready for me,” he said. The smirk on his face gave him away. Determined to make her point clear, she slipped her hand into his shorts and nodded when her hand contacted his hardness.
“As are you…” The look on his face changed from wolfish to needy. He tugged her knickers down as she removed the last of his clothes. His cock sprang free and it was her time to smirk. She attempted to sit but a hand on her chest had her back on the soft mattress. He crawled between her knees and picked up his wand, waving it wordlessly over her belly.
“It’s been a while,” he said calmly.
She placed her arms around his waist and drew him to her mouth slowly, “Me too.” She caught his mouth once more, reassuring him with her kisses. As he leaned forward, a familiar pressure built between her thighs. Merlin, was she really about to let him into her? She was. Relaxing a little, she reached between them and guided him into her. Next thing she felt was him filling her. He let out a sigh and they lay there, lips locked together, as she became accustomed to his length within her.
Slowly, achingly slowly, he began to withdraw. The shiver of him moving inside her had her breath hitching and her heart thudding against her chest. Her hand brushed her cheek as their lips parted. His breath brushed the sensitive skin of her neck and his scent consumed her. Keeping the slow pace, he moved forward again, filling her once more. “Feels good,” she murmured. She wanted to express her thoughts yet the use of mere words made that difficult. Instead, she wrapped her legs around his waist and encouraged him to move with her.
“You’re so slick…” his words were as lame as hers and she smiled. Arms now around his waist, she arched into his lazy thrusts, wanting more yet savouring the tang that his movements sent through her. When he leaned up on his elbows, she saw the look of desire in his eyes and she swallowed hard.
“Move with me,” she said. A quick nod and he began to move a little quicker. The soft sounds of his breathing and the scent of his skin made her writhe a little more. His cock sent waves through her, right down to the tips of her toes and she groaned when he caught her mouth once more. His tongue thrust into her mouth just as he thrust into her body.
The familiar build of tension began at the base of her spine as he picked up further speed. His grunts had turned to moans. His hair tickled her cheek and she squeezed her thighs around him. Every small movement sent another wave through her; she knew she was getting close. The sounds from her own lips she barely recognised as hers. Hands curled into his hair and pulled it into a tail as her hips rose and fell to meet his. She clenched around him and he hissed.
“Do that again I’ll come,” he whispered. He didn’t slow. The tension ran up her legs and she bucked a little. His thrusting became erratic and she knew he spoke true.
“Come then,” she groaned. Her own release was a couple of thrusts away. Moments later, the tension began spiralling out of control. Building until she thought she would cramp up and ruin the moment. Instead, her muscles twinged, pulsed and she was free. A cry was torn from her lips; She could feel everything, his every movement deep within her. Nothing mattered but the place where they joined and the rippling sensation of her orgasm. As she floated on the verge of oblivion, she heard his shout, felt his cock pulse and he burst deep within her.
Moments later, he collapsed beside her. Breath heaving and mind swimming, she knew he was in a similar state of passion. When her breathing returned to normal, she turned to look into his black eyes. “That was amazing,” she whispered before placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.
A smile brushed his mouth and he scooped her into his arms, “Yes, it was.”
She pulled the blanket over them so the cold air wouldn’t chill their flesh too much and wrapped an arm over his chest. Leaning her head on his shoulder she sniggered. “Not bad for an old man!”
“I believe the endearment was decrepit.” He kissed the top of her head and she chuckled.
“I believe it was,” she nodded as her eyes drift shut.
“Tired Granger?” he snorted.
“Resting my eyes…” she replied. Her lips pressed to his cheek as he chuckled.
“I should leave you to your rest.”
“Don’t think about going anywhere.” She opened an eye and ran a hand over his chest slowly. “It’s cold and I need you to keep me warm.” He seemed to appreciate what she said as his arms curled around her further. They lapsed into silence and soon, his breathing became even and regular, letting her know he had drifted off into a doze. Her own slumber wasn’t far behind but before she fell into the realm of sleep, she wondered whether the ball hadn’t been so bad after all.
- 1
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The Yule Ball