Seeing her for the first time | By : Mumka Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 1247 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: Student-Prof |
The presence of an ending, signifies the existence of a beginning.
So when Severus Snape awoke in a bright, white void, he heard the voice of God. Or rather, not God, but the Metatron--- His Presence.
"Have I died?" he asked, stupidly.
"No," replied the Metatron, which was a voice that surrounded Severus. "You are in a place between the Heavens and the Earth."
"Splendid," he thought hastily.
"Indeed. I should think so. The Almighty wishes to grant you a boon. In honour of your bravery for saving hundreds of innocent souls, you may choose one reward before descending to Earth."
Severus thought for a moment. When one is in the throes of living, one had thousands of impossible wishes. But now that he was dead, he hadn't a single one. He considered real hard and then made his request.
"I wish to forget all of it. The war, Harry Potter, the Headmaster, the Death Eaters...the Dark Lord...all of it."
The Metatron nodded.
Severus' body filled with an incredible sense of peace. He closed his eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
-x-x-x-
Severus Snape woke up in a hospital bed in the Hogwarts Infirmary. There was Madame Pomfrey, but she was ages older than he remembered her as a boy at Hogwarts. There was also Professor Mcgonagall and a few other students his age gathered around him.
One looked unnervingly like his old nemesis James Potter, except wore round glasses and sported green eyes. The other was a red head---a Weasley, no doubt. The third was a young woman with wild, curly hair, and the saddest expression he'd ever seen. It made his heart skip a beat, because no other girls were saddened by his downfall. In fact, he was sure most would be happy to see him gone from the face of the Earth.
She was very pretty, and so in peril, he wanted to comfort her.
But who were his peers and why had they come down to visit him? Where was his old friend Lucius?
He sat up darting his eyes around the room.
"Oh Severus, lie down now," Madame Pomfrey said, "You must rest."
Since when had they moved to first name basis?
"Professor Snape, are you alright?" the young woman mumbled.
Professor?
He asked for a mirror and looked at himself. No he was no longer a boy, he was a man well in his prime. Clearly he had forgotten what had transpired these past few years. Or had it been more? He was clearly an educator at Hogwarts now and these were the new students.
There were some looks exchanged and apologies asked for. Severus, of course, gave them freely, for he had no idea what had transpired and felt it best to keep the peace with these people.
Time had passed and Severus was discharged from the hospital wing and allowed to walk around the school. Clearly, there had been a war here---one he thankfully did not remember. The entire school was destroyed to shreds. Students walked the halls like ghouls---most carrying their packed up trunks and heading out the door to the Hogwarts Express.
He supposed he could go home as well, to Spinner's End.
He descended to his dungeon-rooms and began to pack his trunk full of clothes and items he did not recognize. Ah yes, he learned that he had been the school's Potions Professor, and later, a Dark Arts Professor. It was fitting--- Potions had been his best subject. But he never really liked teaching, or children. Life had worked out for him in mysterious ways.
Just as he was about to quit the premises, a soft knock at the door resounded. He opened the door, and there she was: the curly haired witch with the sad expression.
"Good afternoon Professor," she said timidly, "You-you're leaving?"
"Yes," he said, his voice catching in his throat. Why did she have to look at him so pitifully with those brown, wanting eyes of hers?
"Did you need something?"
"No, well...yes," she mumbled. "I was hoping you could give me some help on passing my NEWTS examinations, sir."
"Wouldn't it be best to ask Professor Slughorn?"
"He doesn't teach here anymore."
Of course, Severus thought dismally, Slughorn had taught here when he was a young lad. "Shouldn't you be returning to your family?" he asked.
She shook her head, her face once again growing solemn. "I don't have anywhere to go."
"Ah, I see," he said, voice breaking. The poor thing. And then, without thinking, added, "I also have no family."
"Oh."
"But I will help you."
"Really? I mean, thank you, thank you sir."
Sir. He shuddered. Would he ever get used to it? He reached over and shook her hand. It seemed most appropriate, until she flinched away, gave him a quick smile and ran back down the corridor. He stood there for some time, then closed the door.
He gasped for breath. Had he...done something wrong? He could have sworn he saw flashes of fear running wild through her eyes as he touched her. It was a harmless gesture from one person to anouther. But surely, he couldn't have grown into a loathsome adult?
-x-x-x-
Hermione wondered if she, in fact, had made the right choice in approaching Professor Snape for help. She had asked for help from her Charms and Transfiguration Professors to prepare for the NEWTS, when they were finally reinstated after the war. She figured it was better to keep her nose in the books instead of dwelling on the horrors of the war and the loss of her parents. Reading always calmed her down, and her studies would keep her busy.
All her Professors had been kind enough to offer their help. But Professor Snape, something was odd about him. She did not expect him to come to life after think he had died in the Shrieking Shack. But she certainly did not expect him to reach out and touch her hand. He never touched anyone, not ever.
And his eyes, they were watching her so softly and intently. From the moment he awoke in the Infirmary, she saw it, and now---again. It was an attraction, a fascination with her. She'd seen in when her friends looked at their crushes, and now again in the eyes of Hogwarts' most revered and fearsome man.
It sent shivers up her spine. It was a bad idea. But perhaps she had just imagined it, because she too was harbouring feelings towards him. It was a secret she didn't dare tell Harry or Ron. There was no need to because it was a silly fascination with one's professor, and nothing that had any evidence of eventually coming to fruition.
Until today.
She sank into her bed and held her pillow tight. The windows of the dorm rooms had been blasted to smithereens and one wall was completely destroyed. She was the only girl who was sleeping here tonight. All her other friends had already left home, and Harry was sleeping in the boys' dorms across the hall.
She closed her eyes and listened to the noise of the wind in her ears.
That night, she fell into uneasy slumber. She dreamt of herself appearing in front of Professor Snape's quarters at night, and him opening the door for her. His body and the entire scene were a haze, but some features stood out clearly. She dreamt of his large, black eyes, and his pained expression and the soft caress of his thin fingers along her cheek and neck. She heard him whispering her name as his lips drew closer to hers. And she.... did not pull away.
She awoke in a hot flush: sweaty and aroused. The cold night air nipped at her skin through her nightgown. It was too cold here and too lonely. Wrapping herself in a cardigan, she grabbed a fuel lamp off her nightstand, lit it up and slipped out of the dorms.
Down the stairs she went, her body shivering and disturbed. She needed to warm up immediately. The Gryffindor rooms were of no help as furniture had been destroyed and tossed all about that she couldn't see the fireplace that kept her toasty during those long nights.
There had to be a fireplace below, in the library. She picked up her pace and ran there as fast as she could.
It was frightening to be alone in the halls of the castle at night. Noises stirred around her. Hermione held her wand in her hands and tried to focus her eyes forwards.
She came to a halt at the library door, sighed and opened them with an Alohamora.
There, to her surprise, was a bright light by the reading sofas in the corner. She approached slowly to see a hot fire lit up and a tall figure standing by it, warming its hands.
"H-hello?" she called out.
The figure turned and she screamed.
"Professor S-Snape. It's you."
He stared at her. "Do I know you?"
"Y-yes. G-Granger, Hermione G-Granger," she stuttered.
It was odd that he did not know who she was, like he had lost his memory after his tryst with Voldemort.
"Ah. Hermione," he said slowly, then corrected himself. "Miss Granger. Is there anything I can do for you."
"Uh, no no, I was just...walking."
"Walking," he inquired. "Alone. At night?"
"Couldn't sleep." She rubbed her hands together quietly under her cardigan and crossed her shiverring thighs together.
He smiled disarmingly. "If it's warmth you're seeking, come stand by the fire."
She slowly walked over and bent down, bringing her hands to the flames. A soft groan escaped her mouth. So warm, so good. He noticed it and she blushed hot pink. She touched her cheeks and rubbed her thighs over her nightgown, trying to warm them as well.
"Better?" he asked.
"Much."
"Good." There was a low growl to his voice, and when she met his eyes, saw he had been watching her very intently, just as he had the night in his classroom.
If you could imagine the darkness in a pitch black room, then you would know the shade of his eyes. And within them flickered small, yellow dancing flames. He was not so old and bat-like as Harry and Ron had described him, in fact, he couldn't have been over fourty. It was just that he was very pale, and very thin and had large bags under his eyes. His hair had been washed and was hanging limply down his back, and it showed the edge of a firm jawline. If he had rested and eaten, Hermione was sure he could become quite pleasant to the eye. And when he smiled. Oh when he smiled, for a brief moment, he looked handsome.
"Miss Granger," he warned, a tease to his voice. "You are staring at me."
She ripped her eyes away. He chuckled darkly and turned away.
What was she thinking, being so obvious in her spying? She wanted to look at him, no doubt, but she shouldn't.
He was her Professor. She was his student. It could never be. Professor Mcgonagall would have something to say to it. It was all the dream and the fact that she was lonely, and sad and afraid and needed to escape the thoughts clouding her mind.
"This afternoon," he began. "When we had spoken, you seemed afraid of me. Might I ask...why?"
"I- I’m not afraid," she said. "Just startled."
"If there is something that I had done, I would prefer to know of it now before we begin working together," he said.
"Nothing specific. Normally, you- I'm not used to a Professor touching my hand."
"Would you prefer I didn't. Touch you," he asked, his face sincere.
She shook her head. "No."
"I apologize. It will not happen again-"
"-no. You can touch me," she stuttered. "I mean, my hand. There was nothing untoward. It simply caught me off guard."
"Ah," he said. "Very well."
-x-x-x-
He was beginning to think that perhaps this was a poor idea---tutoring Miss Granger. She was clearly lying, he knew that much to be true, and he couldn't help but imagine what a horrible person he must have been that she was afraid of him.
What about the rest of the staff? The students? Had they shared her opinions?
Either way, she didn't have to like him for him to tutor her. It was nothing personal. He was simply doing the job that he had been hired to do. And both Professor Mcgonagall, who asked him to call her Minerva, and the rest of the staff were all to willing to help her out.
It was better than sitting around, twiddling his fingers. The poor witch was clearly distressed, even though he couldn't understand why, and he didn't know how else to spend his time. And the way she was looking at him was...unnerving to say the least.
Sure he was well into his thirties, but mentally, he still felt a seventh year student. It seemed only yesterday we was heading off to classes himself and spitting fire at his nemesis James Potter and his cronies. And today, today he was expected to fill big (and fearsome) shoes of Hogwarts' most hated Potions Professor.
And now, now he was experience feelings for a girl twice his junior. A girl he viscerally felt was his equal, but logically realized was below him in age and experience. Unlucky for him, he had never been one to think logically, at least not in his youth. He was driven by emotion and instinct.
Perhaps his older counterpart would be able to talk himself out of his actions, but the young Severus inside him was burning with a slow, pesky flame for the young woman in the nightdress.
She had big, intelligent brown eyes. He always liked a smart witch. And her lips were very plump, he wanted nothing more than to kiss them. And, he admitted, her nightgown left little to his imagination. He could see the faint outline of her nipples beneath the fabric and the dip of the top revealing her chest.
He had tried to joke it off, but it didn't stop his body from burning up and growing hard at the thought of her without the nightgown.
But it could never be. He was her professor. She was his student. And even if he felt her peer, he was clearly her elder.
"I should be off on my rounds," he said with an air of sternness. "Will you be alright?"
"Yes, I believe so," she said.
"Good night, Miss Granger."
With that, he strode out of the library as quickly as he could, leaving her by the fire. A cold plunge in the boys' lavatories would do him well now. He could not, would not think of Hermione Granger.
He was, as he realized, also a liar.
-x-x-x-
Her name on his lips sounded like torment---like he was forcing himself to speak it aloud.
“Miss Granger, try and cut smaller and stay closer to the stalk,” Professor Snape instructed. He grasped his own knife firmly and demonstrated how he was turning a blade of Gillyweed into a pulp-like mush with a quick motion.
If it had been the Old Snape, he would have deducted at least five House Points from her and made a nasty comment, but this New Snape was fairly gentle and kind in his methods.
Hermione began to follow his example.
“And please, relax your shoulders,” he said. The feeling of his hand on her back was sudden and she winced in pain.
“M-my finger,” she said, wrapping it in the hem of her skirt. A small, red bloodstain began to form on the fabric.
She did say she was alright with him touching her, just didn’t realize it would happen so soon.
“Let me.” Snape dissapeared into his stores and reappeared with a vial.
“Wound-cleaning Potion. Personal recipe.” He let her dip her finger into the vial and rub some on her hand.
“Thank you,” she said, watching the cut turn skin-tone again. “Professor, why are you being so kind?”
“You expect me to act any different?”
“You had not been before.”
“That was before,” he said after considerable time. “The Gillyweed?”
“Yes,” she stammered and went back to the cutting station.
“Perhaps I should finish the rest. To prevent more injuries. If you could take the pestle and begin on the beetle wings?”
“Right.”
“In my back room.”
She brushed past him on the way to his stores, looking for the item. It was a mess, items all over the floor, but it was clear the professor took some time to tidy the place before her lesson.
She unbuttoned the top potion of her shirt, wishing she had forgone the uniform and worn a t-shirt and her jeans. She was practically sweltering. It was so out of character for her.
She had been dreaming again last night of the one person she should not have been, and had even considered skipping today’s lesson to help bring herself to her senses. But she’d be a fool for skipping out on preparation for the NEWTS; the alternative was, just pacing around the empty halls of Hogwarts.
Snape was not wearing his usual teaching robes. He had opted for a pair of trousers and lighter, spring robes over his dress shirt. She could hardly recognize him at all, like he had been switched. And his hair, it looked like he had cut it so it grazed just the nape of his neck. Nothing she could have imagined in her student days. Snape looked almost...normal.
“Do you require assistance?” He appeared in the doorway.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been here before-”
“-because you’re a student,” he said, a pang of guilt to his tone.
Good thing he reminded her, she thought with a laugh. The Old Snape would never allow her in his back rooms.
“Right. I forgot.” He moved a tall ladder aside, reached down, and pulled out the appropriate items.
“Do you remember much of anything these past few years, sir?” she asked brazenly.
“Some.”
“Do you remember what sort of professor you were?”
His lips curved into a knowing grin. “Not the good kind, judging by your reactions.”
She laughed quickly. “You would have deducted me at least fifty House Points for being here.” She calmed. His expression was blank. “You know. As punishment. Because it is restricted for students.”
He swirled the pestle around the bowl in a rhythm. “Must I punish you then?” he asked. Probably meant as an innocent matter of fact statement, but it came out completely the opposite. No matter how controlled and straight his voice was, the hot smell emanating from him and the size of his pupils spoke a different dialogue.
“Maybe reward me for following directions?” she suggested meekly.
“Hmm,” he growled. “Most appropriate. We’ll do it your way.”
Hermione’s knees wobbled. She steadied herself on the edge of a shelf.
“Miss Granger?”
“Professor.”
He was closer now, and the mortar and pestle set down on a nearby stool. “Misss Grangerrr.” His voice low and husky---barely above a whisper. A lump in his throat bobbed as he positioned himself before her, one hand on the shelf.
“Oh,” she breathed, unable to control how fast her heart was throbbing in her chest. “I-”
“Yes?”
“I-” she said stupidly, trying to finish the sentence as his lips hovered dangerously close to hers.
“Youuu...” his voice trailed off in the space between them and his breath swam into hers.
Hot and wet, his lips pressed into hers and he moaned against her. Then drawing back, he cupped the back of her head, fingers laced in her hair and kissed her even firmer.
Her arms turned to jelly, and she fell backwards against the shelf and he fell right into her. His chest was heavy against her and she could feel his desire hard against her belly. Over and over, he kissed her, and she was unable---unable to resist.
“Oh,” she moaned again. “Professor Snape.”
“Severus,” he corrected. “Just call me-Severus. Please.”
“Severus,” she said awkwardly. “Oh my.”
“Stop?” He paused, breathing heavy on her.
She shuddered. “N-no. Don’t,” her voice wanting. “Again.”
“Cauldron.” He groaned as she bravely put on hand on his back and drew him in. “Yesss.”
And then, bit down on her mouth, sucking her lips, moaning like he had just eaten the most delectable meal and urging himself against her, rubbing his member against her core.
She was helpless, losing control and all at once, starkly aware of exactly what was happening. And she didn’t want any of it to stop.
That, until a loud rap against the door startled them both.
“Oh,” she said a touch more firmly and pushed him back.
He stepped away, panting and brushing his hair back. Clothes rumpled, hair in disarray, he quickly adjusted himself and ran into the classroom.
“Yes.”
The voice behind the door was muffled. “Miss Granger?” Clearly, Mcgonagall.
“Yes Professor,” she called out, adjusting herself and rushing out of the backroom.
He had just opened the door and the Professor stepped inside. “You are twenty minutes late for our lesson.”
“I am so sorry-”
“-It is my fault,” Severus said quickly, his eyes looking guilty, like he was a boy scolded by his mother rather than a grown man talking to his colleague. “I have asked Miss Granger to redo a specifically difficult portion of the recipe that required additional time.”
She looked back and forth between the two, her look more knowing than was comfortable for Hermione. “I see,” she said finally. “Do try and keep watch of the time. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
Hermione felt like she could have deducted her House Points in the past, but now, that was probably useless. “I’m sorry professor. I will try and work more diligently next time.”
She picked up her book bag and flashed Severus- Professor Snape a quick smile. “Thank you sir.” And then dashed out the door.
-x-x-x-
After the events that had transpired in his classroom, and the clear look of disapproval in Minerva’s eyes, Severus felt guilty. Not for what he did, but for he had not felt while doing it, and for his lack of remorse after the fact.
It felt good, so good to have been kissed by Hermione. He had imagined it briefly, but it was nothing compared to the actual event.
He had acted completely out of gut-instinct, and not like his older self would have done, and he enjoyed every scorching-hot second of it. And if given the chance, would do it again.
He should have been guilty because she was his student, and he had clearly taken advantage of the situation, but she was not unwilling to engage. Still he couldn’t let it happen again.
He’d owl her tonight, asking for her to meet him in the Kitchens where the elves would keep them in check. Or maybe he’d ask Minerva to oversee the operation. He couldn’t trust himself around her, not after what had transpired between them. And if she was before him again, he would want to go even further.
He shouldn’t, because he was not a seventh year teenager. He was an adult. He was not sure how adults acted, but he now knew for certain how they didn’t act.
He sent for his owl, and he penned out the letter to Hermione and then he Apparated down to the Three Broomsticks Pub.
It was legal for him to drink now, and Rosmerta would not refuse him a spiked Butterbeer, or even, a Firewhiskey. He laughed. Look at himself, a grown man who is rationalizing alcohol intake.
Rosmerta had nearly fainted when she saw him, and rushed for a giant hug, her breasts squeezing into him as she did so. He liked that. Some things didn’t change since boyhood.
After some quick questions about his state, she poured him a giant tumbler of Firewhiskey and peppered him with a million questions. How was he? Did Voldemort come back? Because if he did, she’d kick his ass to the Veil and back. Would he stay at Hogwarts? How was Minerva?
Severus told all, leaving out the bits about tutoring Hermione. The Firewhiskey flowed freely.
By the time he had stepped out the door, he was well foxed.
The streets of Hogsmeade stood empty, save for a few patrons heading home. And it was dark.
Severus Apparated back to the castle grounds and made his slow descent to his chambers. He was well merry now, and even the ghosts of Hogwarts had chided him as he stumbled through the corridors singing and yelling like a petulant teenager.
They must have thought the old sod was going mad. And he was, in a way.
He stumbled into the Courtyard. The moon was high and the stars were bright. Without the towers to obscure them, he had a clear view of the cosmos, and it brought a tear to his unwilling eye.
“Gods, I love being alive,” he cried, and fell on the ground.
He was an adult. He was free. Free to do anything he wanted.
And it was the best night of his life. And he’d need a good amount of Pepper Up Potion.
-x-x-x-
Hermione couldn’t believe what she had just done. She had snogged the Potions Professor. Where was the world coming to?
She was so lonely, so wanting, and he had been so gentle and unnervingly kind to her. And the kiss felt like absolute Heaven.
She had kissed Viktor Krum before at the Yule Ball, and Ron during the battle, both those were both clumsy and boyish kisses. This- this was the kiss of a grown man. But not one she imagined she’d ever have.
And she wanted more. But she couldn’t, because he was her senior and she was his student. The barrier was broken and she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to just see him as such.
He asked her to call him Severus. She was mad. Absolutely mad.
His owl arrived suddenly and unexpectedly. She tore open the envelope and read the quickly penned note.
Miss Granger,
I believe it would be most effective to move our lessons to the kitchens. There is more space there and more light. If you would be so accommodating as to join me there tomorrow, I would be most appreciative.
Professor Snape
She laughed. He couldn’t have been more gentleman-like in his writing. Professor Snape had been swapped, certainly. The world had gone mad.
He was trying to move their lessons to a more public spot. He didn’t trust himself around her. He probably felt guilty for cornering her as he did. But it was nothing further from the truth. She wanted to kiss him just as much as he did. She was willing, and she didn’t care that he was older than her or her professor. That barrier had broken the moment his lips touched her. No, before then. Long before then.
If being wrong felt so right, then damn her.
She was too lonely to be alone, and too tired to care about propriety. She had survived the war, for Merlin’s sake, and half her friends had died. She had no one here to comfort her. Ron was gone. Harry had left this morning. They said they would invite her to join them at the Burrow after the funeral, but never did, because Molly Weasley didn’t want Ron’s girlfriend sleeping in the same house as her son.
And Severus, he was the only one to show her some level of affection...even fleeting. She wanted to be held, to be kissed, to be caressed. She wanted to feel something.
And she knew he wanted it too, but was embarrassed.
She knew just how to fix it. She would tell him. Tell him that she wanted him back just as much as he wanted her.
She would tell him tonight.
She didn’t have any Liquid Courage, but she did know about the secret stash of Firewhiskey in the girls’ dorms. Taking a large swig, she felt her body heat up.
She had changed her clothes, just in case, and grabbed the oil lamp and headed down to his rooms.
When she got there, she sucked in her breath and knocked on the door. She had no plan besides just talking to him and telling him the truth. She hoped it would be enough.
He didn’t answer the first time, so she knocked again. “It’s me,” she said.
This time, the door slowly opened and Snape stood on the doorstep. He was dishevelled and dressed in a long shirt and loose pants and house slippers. His eyes gave him away instantly, trailing up her body.
“May I come in?”
He stepped aside.
They walked to his chambers, located beside his storage room.
Inside, she sat on the small armchair near the fire while he sat in the larger one. Behind him, his bed sheets lay tousled on the mattress. His entire room smelled like him. And it drove her feral.
-x-x-x-
It was a mistake letting her in at this hour of night. But Severus had a full day of making mistakes behind him, thus was well experienced in the matter.
He had spent so long being alone: the loser boy, the unwanted son, the target of ridicule, the friend but never the lover. Now there was a woman in his room, a woman who wanted him and only him. He’d seen the fire in her eyes---the blatant desire. And Gods, it was like throwing a slab of meat into a pool of hungry mermaids.
She had been so soft today, so gentle with him. She wanted him and only him. It was clear by the way she kissed him back. And he was starved for some affection.
She was so beautiful, so lovely. Her hair, her skin, her mouth--- he loved all of it. It was wrong, but if this was wrong, he did not want to be right.
And now, she had come to him.
He gripped the edge of his chair, wishing he had not taken the Pepper Up potion after all and had some buzz left in him.
“You have received my letter?”
“Yes,” she said. “And I agree to meet in the kitchens for tomorrow.”
“Very well,” he said. “Is that all you came to say?”
She let out a long sigh. “Sever... sir-”
“Severus, is fine.”
“Severus, I don’t want there to be any unspoken words between us.” Her fingers looped together in an adorably bashful way. “What happened this afternoon between us. The kiss.”
“Yes.”
She looked up at him. “I do not regret it. I wanted you to know.”
He nodded. “I know,” he drawled.
“If you wish to move the lessons to the kitchens because of that, I understand. But I wanted you to know that I was not opposed. Not in the slightest.”
He spoke in a calculated manner, because he felt every word needed to be made clear before he did what he was about to do. “I am your professor. You are my student.”
“I understand.”
“What we are doing is wrong according to the laws of this school.”
“But not to the age laws of the Wizarding World,” she added.
“Correct. But although the circumstances are as such, it is still not right for me to encourage this. As your professor.” The statement itself was oddly humorous: him dressed in pyjamas in his bedroom.
“You wish to say, you do not want to kiss me anymore?” she asked.
“I want to. But it is still improper.”
“For whom? Severus or Professor Snape?” she leaned back, spreading out in the chair. Her eyes glistened provocatively. “Whoever the old Professor was, you are not him. Otherwise you would have sent me away. Otherwise you would have never touched me.”
He nodded. She was clever.
“You are correct. I am not quite fully myself.”
“You don’t remember me at all?”
He looked at her. “The day in the infirmary. It was like I saw you for the first time. I don’t understand it completely. But it is the truth.”
“You don’t remember me being your student?”
He shook his head.
“And the War? Harry Potter? Fred and George? Dumbledore?”
He shook his head again.
“Voldemort?”
“Only in mention.”
She thought for a moment. “That changes many things.”
His heart skipped a beat. “But not your feelings towards me.”
“Not them.”
He nodded. “Good.”
“And for you?” she asked.
“Not for me.”
She came to him now, and knelt by his side, her breath laden with Firewhiskey. “I want to spend the night with you.”
How delightful she was. He took his chance to draw his hands to her waist and pull her in, but she quickly resisted.
“No,” she warned. “You’ve had your chance to take me. Now, it will be on my terms.”
He groaned in frustration but was obedient. Besides, he was starting to like this bossy witch.
She stood by the bed now and removed her hair from its fastenings. He watched in awe as it fell in wild curls over her back and shoulders. She shook it out and pulled the elastic over her wrist.
She was shaking, he could see it in her legs. Wobbling like a doe as she started to fiddle with the buttons on her cardigan.
Severus, this Severus, was a virgin, but perhaps the older one was not. And it was that older self that whispered to him that he should give the witch some encouragement.
“Mmm,” he moaned. “Good. You have...beautiful hair.”
She smiled, bashfully. “You think so?”
“I know so,” he said as lowly as he could.
She blushed so very prettily.
“Take off your jacket,” he instructed. “Come to me.”
“Not all at once,” she said quickly.
Slowly, button by button, she removed the cardigan, letting the pink, knit fabric slide off her shoulders.
She was standing now in her trousers and a light, long sleeved shirt. He licked his lips, looking at the outline of her legs, her hips. He enjoyed a good jean.
“You are beautiful.” He had used the adjective before, but he was at present, running out of unique and creative compliments. His brain was starting to feel mushy and overwhelmed with the smells and sounds surrounding him.
“Would you....like me to take off my shirt.”
He nodded. Oh, would he ever.
-x-x-x-
The Firewhiskey was doing its magic for sure. That and the way Severus was looking at her, so hungrily, so steadily. He watched her every move like a hawk.
And when he talked to her, she could hear the uneasy rust in his voice. It was clear that she had an effect on him. That she had power over him....
It was intoxicating.
“Take off your shirt,” he repeated.
“I decide that,” she commanded. “You can have me, but only when I say so.”
It was a bossy thing to say, but he didn’t appear to mind. He only nodded, eyes sparkling.
“If you wish for me to take off my shirt, you take off yours first,” she instructed.
“Very well.”
He slipped the fabric over his head, revealing the thin outline of a pronounced set of abs----or rather what they had been if he weren’t so thin. Still, there were ridges and bends that were so deliciously wet with his sweat, and gashes and scars beneath the trail of hairs along the middle of his body.
“Do you...like...how I look?” he asked hesitantly.
She nodded and he swallowed down the rest of his words.
It was her turn now.
She turned around, feeling a bit bashful. She’d never been naked before a man before. Not even Ron or Harry or Viktor had seen her as such. Some propriety had to be kept.
She unbuttoned her jeans and slipped them down her legs, and along with them, came her panties.
She heard her suck in his breath. And she kept going. Finally, tossing the garments to the side, she let her shirt cover the back on her body and began to unfasten the buttons.
“Hermione.” His voice, a desperate whisper.
She heard him stand up and come closer. “Oh Hermione....”
“Ssstop,” she said, hiding herself with her hands.
“Hermione,” he said a touch more firmly.
“If you want this, you must sit down,” she instructed.
“Hermione,” he warned.
“Sit. Down.”
She listened as he stepped back and the armchair groaned beneath his weight.
“Thank you,” she said, calming her beating heart.
Next was her shirt. She slipped it over her body. And then, she began to unfasten her bra.
Behind her, Severus stirred in the chair. She heard hands trailing over his body, and she imagined what exactly they were feeling for.
“Oh.” He moaned softly, as the straps of her bra slid over her shoulders and the entire article tossed aside towards the jeans and the shirt. She heard his running his hand up and down and groaning in response.
“Do you enjoy this?”
“Yess,” he said, a touch too quickly.
The encouragement was clearly getting to her head more than the Firewhiskey ever was.
She made her way to the bed, and settled on her knees on top of the sheets. She had touched herself before in the shower, clumsily of course, but it would have to do. She was hot, and ready, and she’d already gone so far.
She ran her hands down her neck, over her nipples and along her stomach and down her legs, stopping at the most sensitive parts. Then, spreading her knees, she dipped one finger between her legs and began to make magic.
-x-x-x-
She was torturing him.
Severus was already hot and hard and everything opposite of what he had been in the grave some days prior. And Gods, he wanted her. Why must she have been so bloody bossy at a time like this.
He watched her now, taking her finger between her legs. Whatever kind of memory loss he had, it certainly had not affected this.
His body reacted in turn, twitching and rolling with desire. A hot ball was making its way down the tracks in his stomach and into his cock, which swelled and grew inside his pants. He felt as though it might explode if he did not touch her skin, if he did not draw even an inch closer.
“Hermione,” he said slowly. He’d have to be cunning about it. Somehow, that seemed like a skill he’d have as well. “Can I come closer?”
She ignored him, moaning softly as her fingers continued their dance between her legs.
“I am coming closer,” he stated.
He rose from the chair and paced towards her. Sensing him, she froze and sucked in her breath.
“Keep going.”
“S-say please.”
He chuckled. Even now she was continuing to boss him about. “Please,” he said, his voice as desperate as he could allow it.
“Alright.”
He leaned in, smelling her hair, her neck, her earlobe. He placed his hands on her shoulders and she shuddered.
“May I?”
“Yes.”
He knelt on the bed behind her, his cock resting in the hollow of her back. She shivered again.
“Oh Gods, Hermione. You are so perfect.”
He pressed himself into her and placed his hands over hers. “Show me,” he asked, kissing her neck.
It was all coming back to him now, the passion, the game that lovers play, the game older than time itself. He had played it before, with whom he did not know, but he knew for certain that there had been women in Older Severus’ life. And he whispered a silent thank you.
Her skin was hot and her core was wet. He ran his own fingers over the sensitive skin on her womanhood and listened to the shattered gasps of her breath as he did so.
“I-I’ve never done this before,” she warned.
He kissed her. “I have,” he purred. “Can I lead now?”
She nodded. She lost her control. And he was all the more happy to take it.
-x-x-x-
She was told to move forwards on the bed and he was sitting behind her, his fingers moving steadily along her core. His other hand was teasing her breast, squeezing her nipple softly and then, with her permission, with more force.
“Is this good?”
“Harder,” she replied. He obeyed.
She didn’t know that was a trick she could try for her pleasure, but it felt wonderful. She’d have to try it someday on her own.
“I didn’t know you could do that...”
“Mhm,” he said, “and now?”
“Yes.”
His fingers moved in their own way along her centre. He flicked her, teasing her nib until she was practically squealing with pleasure and abandon. Cauldron, if she had done this during her student days, she certainly would not be able to study a single passage in Potions Moste Potente.
“I love to hear you,” he said, chuckling. “Those sounds, those moans.” He suckled her neck, pulling her skin into his mouth. “Hermione, you will be the undoing of me.”
“I am a fast learner,” she retorted.
“Yes. You are. But there is more.” He urged her to spread her legs. “Move with me.”
She felt his member on her buttocks, trailing down the middle as he thrust himself along her making deliciously wild noises. When he moved too far forwards, she pushed him back, faster and faster until she noted it was too rough for her.
He Summoned something out of his drawers and spread the slick liquid over her backside. It was better now, with the lubricant there.
“Is there...more?” she whined, grinding against his cock.
“Oh yes.” He paused. “I’ll just start with the tip.”
He positioned himself and pushed himself in. She gasped.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not ...exactly.”
“And now?” He pulled out slightly and she bit her lip and sighed. “I’ll take it as a yes.”
He went slow, letting her stretch around him. And when she gave the word, he went deeper. She moaned, taking him in inch by inch until the soft tissue of his balls nestled at her backside.
“So good,” he hissed.
“Can you use your fingers again?”
He did, teasing her as he pushed into her over and over again. They found their rhythm and Hermione was unable to control anything she said thereafter. And neither was he. Speaking in incoherent mumbles peppered between the sound of their bodies crying out in pleasure, he rode her fast and faster.
-x-x-x-
He was getting so close now, and her cries did nothing to stop the throbbing of his balls. Gods, he wanted to come inside her. Just the thought of it sent him reeling and her pounded her behind hard.
She sighed in surprise and turned her head. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were rolling into the back of her head.
“Severuss-” She grunted and yelled. “Oh Severus...”
He had this much power over her pleasure, it had unlocked something wicked in him. He stopped, pulled himself out and pressed his lips on hers.
“Can you do something for me?” he begged.
“Yes-”
He turned around, so his cock rested at the tip of her mouth and he was burred in the soft hair of her womanhood. “Swallow me,” he said. “Please.”
Her lips curled around the head of his cock and he groaned. In return, he pressed his mouth on her core, licking and sucking her folds . And he did so until she had cried out and bit her mouth down on his cock. He screamed and his cum spilled out of him, all down the side of her face and into her mouth.
He turned to her wiping her with the edge of her sheets.
“I’m sorry-”
He hissed in pain and chuckled. “I suppose I’ve moved too quickly for a first time.”
“That was...oh....,” she said bashfully.
“You were wonderful,” he kissed her, over and over again.
“Maybe let’s try that,” she said. “Later.”
“As you wish,” he whispered back, capturing her lips.
-x-x-x-
She lay in bed as he searched for the appropriate potions in his stores for his member and for her soreness. Downing the glass, Hermione lay back as the soreness between her legs subsided.
“Well?” he asked, finally emerging and wearing a pair of pants. “Are you satisfied?”
“Very,” she nodded.
“You have surprised me, Miss Granger,” he said sternly. It earned him a little, nervous laugh.
“I have surprised myself.” She dug her face in the pillow. “Turn off the lights.”
“What will the headmistress say?” he said with a tut-tut. “Students out of bed.”
“That we shall see,” she said in a rusty voice. “And I am in bed.”
He laughed, smacking her behind through the sheets and giving her a kiss. He folded the clothes and lay then on the armchair with a flick of his wand, and climbed under the sheets with her, nestling himself in the nook on her neck, and fell into an easy sleep.
The fire was the only light in the room. Severus charmed it just so it burnt out at five in the morning. Life was good.
-x-x-x-
The headmistress was in an even more contemplating mood at next afternoon’s lesson.
“You have not been in your rooms last night,” she said as Hermione placed the next glass of water on the table for transfiguration into a block of ice.
“It was cold,” she said, equally coldly and froze the liquid before her.
“And so, you have decided to take up lodging in other quarters.”
“Yes Professor.”
She hummed. “Would those lodging happen to be in the dungeons?”
Hermione sent a crack through the ice with her wand. “Yes.”
“Would those lodgings happen to be in the Potions classroom?”
“Professor.”
“Miss Granger,” she said. “Engaging in relations with an educator is strictly forbidden.”
Hermione swallowed. “I know.”
She drew in a breath. “However, because Hogwarts does not have a Headmaster at the moment, and because the school year finishes in four weeks, I do not have the power to reprimand you.” She continued. “And because I have no definite proof, I cannot even administer a consequence. But you should still know, I am displeased with your behaviour.”
“You do not wish to tutor me?” Hermione asked quickly.
“I will tutor you. Because you are a gifted witch, Miss Granger. And because I trust you and see great success in your future. But I do not approve of your personal actions.” She met her eye. “Do not let me ever find evidence of your indiscretions or I will have to act as Head of House. Even if the House simply has one member.”
Hermione smiled. “Thank you Professor.”
“Focus.”
-x-x-x-
Severus had been finished his breakfast when Minerva found him in the Great Hall. A look passed between them and she settled down in the chair beside his.
“I have spoken to Miss Granger yesterday.”
“Yes.”
“And now, I must speak to you. Not as your colleague, but as your friend,” she said. “You do understand the consequences of your actions.”
“Perhaps, not well enough-” he taunted.
“Severus Tobias Snape. I have seen you in all but training breeches, do not test me,” she said darkly. “If you have compromised my best student’s integrity for your own folly I will never forgive you.”
“I assure you, Minerva, I do not intend anything of the sort,” he said equally firmly. “My relations with Miss Granger are strictly consensual until she decides she no longer wants them.”
“Do you promise to end the matter if she chooses to?”
“Do you intend to steer her in that direction.”
Minerva laughed heartily. “I am wise enough to know Miss Granger cannot be steered in any way she does not wish to. But she is young and impressionable. I do not wish for her heart to be broken.”
“And it will not be.” Severus crossed his heart. “I give you my word.”
“You will give more than your word. You will give your promise that you will allow Hermione to apply to any apprenticeship she chooses after graduation and you will ensure she finishes her degree.”
“That I cannot promise,” he said swiftly. “Hermione and I do not make each other do anything.”
Her face darkened. “Severus if the girl throws her future away because of lust I will knock down your doors and sink my own fangs into your neck.”
He banged his fist on the table. “Do not threaten me, witch. That I will wish the very best for her will be my word to her as a gentleman. But the coercion of her into a path she may or may not wish to take is not a promise I will give. She is an adult and she will do as she pleases.”
“Very well. We agree to disagree,” Minerva said tersely.
He was in a sour mood the entire afternoon. It had not passed Hermione by and she joined him by his side for a late dinner in the Three Broomsticks.
“Have you spoken to Professor Mcgonagall?” she reasoned.
Severus’ fists clenched and softened. She nodded.
“I see.”
“What do you see?”
“She does not approve of our connection,” she said between bites of food. “She told me as much.”
Severus sighed, lowering his glass of ale, and taking her hands. “Hermione. Do you enjoy being with me?”
She nodded. “I do.”
“Because if you do not, you must tell me. I promise that I will not be a burden at your side-”
“Oh Severus,” she said softly. “You are not a burden. You are as much my choice, as any. And if others do not approve of it, that will be my burden to bear just the same.” She smiled. “I choose you.”
He brought her fingers to his lips. “And I--you.”
-x-x-x-
Hermione graduated at the end of June. It was a short ceremony, featuring only her, Minerva, Severus, Hagrid and the other professors still left in the school. Ron and Harry had been invited too along with the Weasleys and the other Gryffindors.
They held the party in the Burrow to celebrate, with Molly cooking for the lot and George entertaining with his Wizarding Wheezes. There were questions that were kept quiet, but shared in whispers behind closed doors. Why hadn’t Hermione agreed to join them at the Burrow months ago? Why had she chosen to stay at Hogwarts? What was her business with Snape?
But then Minerva brought out the last of the elven wine (which, dear reader, is known for being extra strong), and the questions ceased.
“Ppprofessor Snitch had the nnnnerve to live and he had the nnnnerve to come here,” Ron slurred. “Will he ever bugger off?”
“Whocares?” Harry finally said. “Maybe ’iz time to move on Ron. Y’r mum’s forgiven him and so h’z Hermione-”
They watched Hermione and Snape sitting at the adult table, laughing with the rest of the family. They looked well merry and cozy, and Ron swore he saw Hermione’s hand grazing his knee and him pecking her behind the ear. They had been seated at the kids table with Lavender’s little cousins and the distant Weasley nephews so had a good view of the passing show. Thankfully they were able to sneak some booze over in their plastic cups and get to join in the fun.
“Tha’zz who I’m worried about! Mione ssstuck in that sssschool with the sod!”
“What do you mean by that, Mr Weasley?” The voice nearly knocked the lads off their chairs. It was Professor Snitch in the flesh and he was hovering over them.
“W-Well that we haven’t heard of Hermione for monthesss,” Ron stuttered, sobering up. “Sir, I don’t know what kind of wwwork you’re making her do back there and- oh bloody hell, I saw her hand on your leg.”
“Continueeeeee,” Snape drawled, his face glowing redder by the second. He was well pissed himself, and had positioned his hand on a tree to keep himself steady.
“You wereeee touching her!” Ron continued. “You wereee taking y’rr liberties with the lassss.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Snape laughed dryly. “Troll for percccception. Well done boy, weeeeeeell done.”
“Ha ha, yourself,” Ron drawled, wobbling on his feet. “There is no ’u’ in Huurrrmionnnee.”
“But there isss a ’u’ in imBUcile-”
The cousins and nephews at the table covered their mouths and giggled. “Look, Uncle Ron is going to jump Mr Snape!”
Some of them clapped their hands and cheered and whistled. “Get him Uncle Ronny!”
“Indeed Uncleee Ronnnyyy,” Snape slurred. “Let’s see what they t’ch ya in the Auror Academyy.”
Ron was up now, and he had reached for his wand. “Y’r on!”
The kids grew wild!
“Yeah! Kick his ass Uncle Ron!”
“Show him, Mr Snape!”
Harry had grown white and had passed out under the table from all the wine. The hope was on the red head.
Snape reached for his wand. “On guard!”
-x-x-x-
“Good Gillyweed, what’s going on back there?” Molly Weasley cried, looking over to the kids table.
“Oh my Gods,” Hermione whispered, wishing she could melt in a puddle of shame. Severus was going to duel Ron Weasley. Severus, greatest duel master of the century, Snape versus Ron, straight off the school bench, Weasley. Both pissed of course and both raving like hungry werewolves. “I better get my...Severus.”
By now, the kids had made a circle round the pair. Harry was still under the table.
The men stood in front of each other on a tablecloth, wands at the ready.
“Y’r goal is to disARM, not KILL!” Severus commanded, spitting into Ron’s face.
“SHHHUDDUP!” Ron said, poking himself in the eye and wincing.
“Shut it! Both of you!” Hermione said, getting into the thick of it.
“Move aside, m’ dear,” Severus said. “I’ll handle this.”
“You can’t even handle yourself! Stop it!”
“Too late!” Ron cried. “He’sss gonna pay for dishonoring my best friendddsss seggsualityyy.”
“Ronald Weasley!” cried his mother.
“Steppp aside,” Severus said, shoving Hermione off the tablecloth.
Severus’ wand movements were slick and proper. Even pissed drunk he gave a good duelling stance. The only problem was, his wand was a nearby kabob skewer from Mr Weasley’s BBQ.
A few of the cousins and nephews exchanged glances. “Go Mr Snape! Kick Uncle Ron’s ass!”
They did the show off, turned and walked back ten steps in opposite directions. Hermione held her breath. When the men had turned, that’s when she noticed that Severus had the fake wand and Ron’s was very, very real.
“Stop! No!” she cried, but the spells had already been cast.
“Experilarmuss!”
“Stufipyy!!”
Magic shot in one direction and Severus was knocked backwards into the wall.
“Severus!” she cried, rushing over to his side.
The kids cheered and ran to tackle Uncle Ron. Severus lay on the floor and didn’t dare move.
“Severus!” she cried more urgently. “Ron! I’ll never forgive you, you idiot!”
The whole of the Weasleys had gathered round now and were glaring at Severus. Molly rushed in with a wet towel.
“Severus!” “Ronald Weasley!” “Mum?” Harry!” “Harry?” “Severus!”
“Ugh,” Severus mumbled weakly. “M’ dear.” He was met with a sobering smack across the cheek.
“You dunderhead,” Hermione cried, tears in her eyes. “What were the both of you thinking?” She pulled him in for a big hug.
Next Molly Weasley dragged her son over. “Ronald Weasley you will offer an apology to your Professor-”
“-Mum-”
“-not mum! Apologize!”
Ron darkened. “Sorry Mr Snape.”
“Good.”
When the man had been brought to his senses, the first thing he said was, “I have an announcement to makeee-”
And everybody listened. Hermione had to hold up her drunken partner with one hand. A nearby tree steadied him from the other side. Severus asked for a glass of wine. He was given a glass of water.
He Summoned over a spoon and clinked the glass.
“I juss want to say,” he said, looking into Hermione’s eyes. “That I....LOVE....this WITCH. And I want E’RRYBODY to know it. Thass alll. Lower me down.”
And everyone exchanged glances and laughed and cheered, especially the children, who just liked to make plenty of noise.
Hermione rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help cracking a smile in return and giving him a gentle peck on the head.
It was a merry day, one filled with joy and laughter and a whole lot of Weasleys.
You might wish to know what had happened later? Hermione did apply for a Master in Arithmancy and Severus finally quit his teaching post and went into private practice.
He eventually opened his own Potion’s Shop called ’Lacewing Potions’, just like he’d always wanted to.
Hermione ended up working for the Ministry and made a few significant changes in the laws concerning House Elf Treatment.
They eventually were married. Severus and Hermione sent Minerva a giant bottle of Firewhiskey and invited her to the ceremony. She came. She cried. She kissed them both and wished them all the best. They had two beautiful daughters and they did not name them after anyone in particular. Minerva really wished one to be named after the late Tonks and the other after the late Lavender Brown, but that was never happening. Not over Severus and Hermione’s dead bodies.
And they lived happily. Ever. After.
~And so it goes~
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