Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Unintentional Inveiglement	By : onecelestialbeing Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 130141 -:- Recommendations : 8 -:- Currently Reading : 30
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter and it's characters and making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
A/N: Sooo, I haven't even replied to the reviews of the last chapter because a wench named Hurricane Sandy came into town and messed stuff up all over NY (where I am) NJ, and a slew of other places. Power was out and all of that mess, but everyone is fine on my end. Sadly I can't say the same for a lot of other families. I hope everyone that was affected is okay!

But on a lighter note, I will STILL be replying to those reviews, because I get a kick out of talking filth to all of you lovely people, and I love it when you dirty talk back, roar!!! Hope you enjoy this chapter, sorry the last one was late!! Now come on, let's see some more of those reviews and naughty talk, you all know what I like ;)

Snape awoke with a start, feeling something soft and warm weighing down his chest. Only when he opened his eyes did he take notice of the top of a frizzy-curled head beneath his nose, the messy strands tickling it and his chin.

He had nearly forgotten that the young witch was in his bed, and it was a good thing that his memory was instantly refreshed, else things might not have been so good for her. Snape still wasn't used to someone sleeping next to him, especially considering that the illicit presence belonged to Hermione Granger.

At some point throughout the night, Hermione ended up completely draped over Snape, using the wizard's thin chest as her pillow. It was evident that she'd been lying in the position for some time, as her cheek felt almost scalding against him, and if she were to move her head they would most likely peel apart.

Feeling her body rise and fall with each intake of breath, Snape found that his hand was right between her shoulder blades, a tangle of curls draped over it and his forearm. He had no problem with remaining in their intimate position, yet his fit-to-bursting bladder said otherwise. Plucking Hermione's hair away from his lips and slipping from beneath her arm, Severus collected his wand and moved out of bed, forgoing underpants as he stepped into his trousers.

It was still early; too early for anyone to be awake. Still, Snape was in and out of the bathroom, quickly returning to his room. Hermione had turned over onto her back yet was still asleep, her arms and legs were fanned out and draped over on his side of the bed.

Kicking off his trousers and getting back into bed, Snape moved Hermione's arm from his pillow, folding it across her abdomen. She never moved or opened an eye, merely inhaling deeply and raising both arms above head. The rumpled sheets were twisted about and low on her hips, leaving her upper body exposed.

When Hermione raised both of her arms up to loosely hug the pillow beneath her, it was nearly akin to a subconscious effort at completely opening herself to Severus. Her small, girlish breasts rode high on her chest, the dark pink nipples puckering slightly when they touched cool air.

Severus had perched on his side, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of Hermione's outstretched body next to him. Like a child that was trying to steal a biscuit off a plate, Severus reached over to Hermione, unable to resist cupping one of those small mounds in his hand. Intently watching her face, Hermione's eyes never faltered, and she remained asleep, even after Severus' thumb brushed against her nipple.

He felt like the worst sort of lecher, molesting the naked girl in the midst of sleep. But damn if her body wasn't tempting him. Severus found himself completely drawn to the witch. It wasn't as if he'd ever found himself contemplating what lie beneath the shapeless, oversized school robes, or those horrid striped jumpers that she seemed to own so many of. But there was definitely something about Hermione lying naked next to him, so vulnerable in her sleep and open for his taking, that it lured the wizard in.

Continuing to palm and knead her left breast, Severus also took the time to completely look at the witch. It had been different when she was awake, as Hermione had an uncanny habit of staring directly back at him, as if she had no fear. Severus didn't want her to be scared of him, yet he still had trouble getting used to being completely disrobed in front of Hermione, especially beneath the weight of her curious brown eyes.

In the dim morning light he was unable to see the smatter of freckles that were across her nose. Hermione's perfectly formed lips were slightly parted, and Severus let go of her breast to trace one long finger over her cupid's bow, moving onto the full curve of her bottom lip. Trailing a path down to her throat, his hand curling around the slender column of flesh, Severus let his thumb slip into the hallowed notch at the base of her throat, traveling alone the line of her softly jutting collarbone.

Severus hadn't been lying when he said that he didn't notice the prominent angry-looking scar that marred Hermione's otherwise unblemished skin. It was obvious that she became very uncomfortable whenever she thought he was looking at it, but Severus had so many of his own scars that even Hermione's long singular one didn't faze him.

He let his fingers travel along the length of that scar, trailing over to where it ended down on her slender ribcage. Shaking his head, Severus found himself becoming disgusted. It was one thing for his own peers to have to fight a battle that had begun even before Hermione and her friends were born, but to have children being subjected to the cruelness of the dark side was unconscionable. Hermione shouldn't have that scar across her chest, just like she nor her friends should have had to fight the Death Eaters down in the bowels of the Ministry. None of the students should have had to fall beneath the sadistic whims of the pig-faced, pink covered Umbridge. Each occurrence was anything but moot, and they were all just the tip of the iceberg.

Severus had fought long and hard to keep Umbridge from outright killing the students, most often at great peril to himself had his position been discovered. While he knew that it was best everyone know what they were up against, knowing about what had gone on behind the walls of Hogwarts was just a prelude to the madness; there had been no question about it-the Dark Lord would do far worse then use blood-letting quills on children. Voldemort held no sense of decency, and thought nothing of maiming and killing children purely in the name of his twisted plans.

Hermione had been just one another casualty, and Snape was sorry to say that she'd gotten off easy. A curse that left her with a ugly scar was by far a less severe repercussion considering some of the more horrific things he viewed with his own eyes. He had in fact witnessed Hermione crying when she thought no one was looking, curled up in the corner of Hogwarts' library, clutching her angry-red scarred hand to her chest as silent tears poured down her cheeks, falling onto the pages of their vulture-like librarian's precious books.

The girl accepted a punishment that had been borne out of an attempt to help and protect others. Even then he'd been unable to take his eyes off the young witch that bore her pain in silence, yet fought with her friends anyway, despite knowing the danger they were walking into. Severus had seen the fear in her eyes, all the while the rest of her face remained unperturbed.

He didn't know whether to berate Granger for her foolishness, or applaud her for her bravery.

A brave fool or not, it was obvious that she was fighting for her life, as well as her friends'. To be so young and have such ideals impressed him, especially when long before the Golden Trio had ever come to Hogwarts, Snape faced a definite uncertainty, not knowing what the future held. He still didn't know, and optimism had never been a word in his vocabulary.

While he would never actually verbalize it, time and time again Snape had wondered if he was going to come out of his double-life in one piece. In the off chance that he didn't get killed, he knew that he would never be normal, relatively speaking at least. Who the hell could live a normal life after experiencing the horrors he had, day in and out?

Whatever was the reason for Hermione's tenaciousness, it was surely something to be commended. While he did his best to protect the three teenagers as well as countless others, all without their knowledge, Severus was growing weary, mentally if not physically.

Hermione turned her head again, this time facing Severus. Sighing softy in her sleep, her head settled in the nest of thick curls gathered at her shoulder. It was amazing to him the way the little witch always looked so peaceful, so unaffected in the midst of her slumber. A part of him hoped that she would always retain a bit of that innocence, which so many managed to lose as a result of growing older and becoming jaded at life in general. Of course, that calm face had the ability to turn up and sneer with the best of them, but Severus sincerely hoped that Hermione wouldn't come out of it all with a bitter countenance.

Hermione mumbled incoherently, and Severus was about to move his hand from her chest when she fell silent again. Resuming his caresses, he traced along the line of her narrow rib cage, his fingertips sliding between the shallow grooves of each rib. Hermione's warm skin prickled beneath his touch, the downy hair covering her skin rising to attention.

Feeling almost drunk from merely touching the witch, Severus moved his hand lower, spanning his palm over her soft, flat stomach, pausing once to dip his middle finger into her navel.

Could he remember touching anything so soft? It felt nearly criminal to drag his Potions-calloused hands across her delicate skin. On top of that, he felt like a twisted somnophiliac, becoming aroused as he continued to caress a sleeping Hermione. He didn't want to stop, desperate to let his hand slide down the rounded curve of her abdomen and settle at the small, sparse triangle of hair covering her sex.

But Severus refused to go that far, preferring to have Hermione's coherent approval before taking such liberties. Touching her breasts and stomach wasn't all that different, yet Severus resolved to keep his hand above her waist, unless she awoke and bade for him to touch her, in which case he would gladly stroke and tease Hermione's delicate flesh until she was begging for more.

The little bud of her clitoris was one of his favorite parts to touch. When it became engorged it peeked from beneath its reddened hood, poking out and begging to be kissed and licked. Severus had been only too happy to oblige, as the sight of that little knob was pure torment.

A spell that he had never used but was familiar with suddenly came to mind. Moving closer, Severus held the tip of his wand above Hermione's chest, non-verbally placing the spell upon her. It was a few minutes before she gave the faintest of reactions, the tiniest furrow appearing between her eyebrows, giving away that something was happening.

His magic was powerful enough that he could have said the spell aloud or cast it non-verbally, and either way would have given the same effect. Lowering the wand to her stomach, Severus continued to watch as Hermione began a slow writhing, tossing her head back and forth against the pillow.

Because she was asleep, Severus knew that she wouldn't be able to put a name as to what was happening to her, but the closest description of the spell was akin to little flickers of pleasure, not unlike a warm tongue or fingers caressing against wherever the caster directed.

Previously Severus had no use for the spell, but he had watched it being performed on a fully-clothed witch, by a wizard in a place that had been created for those who had different tastes when it came sex. The witch had all but come apart at the seams, begging to be allowed to reach her release, and each time she was about to go over the edge, the wizard pulled back his wand. The witch proceeded to beg and scream and plead, clutching onto the sides of the table that she'd been strapped down onto.

Severus hadn't wanted to visit that paragon of baseness, but had done so anyway, merely to assuage and form some sort of common ground with the wizards that he'd gone around with after graduating from Hogwarts.

After the festivities were over with, most of the men had gone off with their witch for the night, something that Severus refused to partake in. He did, however, seek out the wizard that he'd watched earlier, hating to be beholden to anyone yet asking him about the spell anyway. The wizard had been a coarse sort of gentleman yet finely dressed, and was eager to share his knowledge. He'd also let his ice-blue eyes rove over Severus' black-robed form, as if wondering if the young man would be willing to spend a couple hours with him. Before he could utter the thought, Severus curtly thanked him and walked away.

Like always, Severus thoroughly researched the spell, finding ways to tweak it until it suited him. He'd only shared it with one other person, Lucius Malfoy, who reported that it worked perfectly-almost too perfectly. His wife had enjoyed herself so much that she'd nearly been too worn out for her husband.

That had been well over ten years ago. But judging by the way Hermione was thrashing about, the spell obviously was still highly effective.

Her nipples were now two tightly puckered little buds, and the young witch kept arching her back, thrusting her torso into the air as if it were able to give her some sort of reprieve. Hermione had been quiet for the most part, merely wriggling about, causing the sheet to become trapped beneath her and fall mid-thigh. Yet when the dark length of wood in Severus' hand moved over those clenched thighs, did a soft moan escape from her lips.

A burlesque dancer or the like would have known how to smoothly move her body to her advantage. Yet that didn't matter; Hermione's inexperienced gyrating was more than enough for Severus to become immensely aroused, and soon his erect cock was brushing against his thigh.

Hermione's back remained pressed against the mattress, but still deep in the throes of her agitated stupor, her hips continued arching up, the muscles in her belly, thighs and arse clenching and releasing as though she were ready for the torment to end.

Magically-induced strokes continued to wash over her flushed skin. The triangle of hair between her legs was visible through the dim lighting, and Severus lowered his wand until it was inches away from the short curls, allowing his spell to manifest itself into her most intimate parts.

Almost immediately Hermione let out a broken sob, and she went limp against the mattress. Even with the duvet covering the rest of her legs, Severus could tell that Hermione's feet were rubbing against the bed and trying to find purchase, as her hands were doing the same around the pillow beneath her head.

He was amazed that she hadn't woken up by that point, as the spell was obviously working its magic, growing stronger with each pass of his wand. One last pass that went from Hermione's neck down to her thighs was all it took for the spell to linger until Severus removed it. The throbbing in his groin became more intense as he watched Hermione writhing and mewling about, their arousal almost matching in intensity.

Shit, he thought, realizing that the spell had backfired against him.

Severus didn't know what compelled him to use the archaic spell on the unsuspecting young witch, but one thing was for sure-he wanted to wake her up by parting those trembling thighs and sliding into her slick heat. But that was too close to taking her without Hermione giving him permission. True, it was bad enough that he was using magic on her without her knowledge, but even Severus, who had done some questionable things in his time, had limits.

By then Hermione had kicked the sheet completely off her body, and had her head thrown back, baring the delicate curve of her neck and the swell of her breast. She was feverishly mumbling, her words soon growing more coherent. It was almost as if Hermione was having an intense erotic dream, judging by the way she kept stringing together nonsensical words, the only thing understood being yes! and Severus' name.

Severus resolved to keep his wand in hand, hoping that it would force him to keep him from outright touching Hermione. But the temptation was great; if he was unable to sink into her soft heat, then at the very least he wanted to wrap his lips around one of those pebbled nipples.

She was now slowly thrusting her hips as if her body was actually being filled, her moans becoming less hushed and more lustful. If Hermione became any louder she would wake up the rest of the house, and most likely herself, and Severus would have had to explain just how she'd gotten under the influence of the erotic spell.

The next forceful push of Hermione's hips into the air was Severus' undoing. Letting his wand fall somewhere among the rumpled bed clothes, he hovered by Hermione's side, letting one hand smooth over her trembling stomach, gliding up to cup each breast and play with both nipples. Hermione still never opened her eyes, but seemed to gain a bit of relief from his touch, as her desperate whimpers somewhat settled down.

Just one little touch, he told himself, painstakingly sliding his fingertips along Hermione's body, until he met the cleft between her legs. All it took was a brief upstroke to feel the moisture seeping from her entrance and clinging to her outer lips, threatening to leave a generous-sized wet spot on the bed.

Quietly groaning when he brought his hand to his mouth, getting a strong whiff of the sweet musk before licking Hermione's juices from his fingers, Severus continued to pluck and tweak her nipples, all the while taking his cock into the other hand.

There was no way in hell that he would be able to go to sleep with the almost painful erection. Although Severus knew he probably deserved it, seeing as how he'd been the one to cast the spell on Hermione. All the while she continued arching her body up to meet his hand, thrusting her breasts into the warm, calloused palm that cupped the soft flesh.

The tighter Severus gripped his fist around his cock, the more voraciously his other hand moved over Hermione's torso until she was trembling from head to toe. Her moans were getting louder, and Severus knew that he had two options-either end the spell or cover her mouth.

Opting for the latter, he ran his hand over Hermione' s bared neck, allowing his fingertips to brush her chin before pressing a tapered forefinger between her lips. Almost immediately did she clamp down on the lone digit, wrapping her lips and tongue around it. Soft lips pursed and tongue moving around his finger just like they had done to his cock only the day before, Snape felt his knees buckle from the unexpected yet intense sensation.

For a man that had what he deemed to be enough experience when it came to matters of the flesh, he was thoroughly flummoxed by the fact that Hermione was able to throw him off balance with her novice touches. Even worse was the fact that she was unaware of what she was doing.

Severus knew that he had been right on point to put a partial stopper in Hermione's loud cries as her body was trembling against him, obviously on the edge of reaching climax. It was an erotic sight to behold, watching the young witch teetering ever so precariously on the brink of release, all by the sole benefit of wand work.

The faster he stroked himself, the more Severus wished that it was Hermione's warm, pliable tongue grazing the head of his cock instead of his fingertip. That thought alone send a fresh surge of arousal through his loins, and a trail of his own sticky juices pooled in his palm, slickening his skin.

Skilled fingertips pressed onto the sensitive patch on the underside of his erection, and Severus let out a sharp gust of air, at the same time Hermione began breathing hard against his hand, although her mouth never ceased its sucking.

Both hands continued moving in tandem with one another, his finger against Hermione's tongue and his fist firmly gripping cock. One, two, three more strokes of his hand and Severus grunted loudly, fighting back a feral groan as his hips jerkily thrust forward until he spilled into his hand.

Through his daze Severus registered that his hand stopped moving against Hermione's mouth, but her moans were managing to escape around it. He knew he had to end the spell, because if she came in her sleep, no doubt everyone would know. As much as he hated to do so, as he desperately wanted to see Hermione break completely apart, Severus pried his hand from her lips and awkwardly reached across the bed to fumble around for his wand.

Once the spell was ended, Hermione's moans gradually tapered off, although her lingering arousal made her continue to writhe against the sheets. Severus was astounded when Hermione let out what sounded like a whimper, as if she was consciously aware of just having been denied an orgasm.

He would make it up to her, that much was for sure. And there was no telling how Hermione would feel upon waking; most likely still aroused and anxious, yet unaware as to why that was.

Using his wand to clean and dry his right hand, Severus settled back onto the bed. He looked over at Hermione, who was still slightly thrashing about, although most of the tension seemed to have drained from her limbs. She was still softly calling out his name as she fell back into a less fitful sleep.

"Harry, what the bloody hell is wrong with Hermione?" Ron asked his friend in a fierce whisper.

Harry, who was perched in an armchair perusing a Quidditch magazine, peeked over at Hermione and bit back a laugh.

"Dunno, but maybe you should make an effort to not annoy her," he replied.

Hermione heard the entire exchange yet kept her head buried in her own book. Ever since parting ways with Snape that morning, she'd been antsy and unsettled, and didn't know why. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; even Severus appeared to have slept well. Yet for some unknown reason the witch felt as if she were an unlit fuse, with someone menacingly holding a match next to it.

She honestly hadn't meant to snap at Ronald; but he was tap-dancing on her first, last, and spare nerve, and it was all she could do to not outright scream at him, knowing that she would regret the outburst. But even she doubted that yelling at her friend would be cathartic.

No matter what she did, Hermione continued feeling wound up. There was no feasible explanation as to why she felt temperamental, either. Considering how she had spent the previous night, remembering the way Severus took her apart from the inside out and completely rearranged her head, Hermione figured that she ought to be in a state of utmost relaxation. But no, the smallest thing seemed to set her off, as if she were in the throes of a severe case of PMS.

The morning hadn't started off all that different, relatively speaking, considering that she had woken up next to Severus. Hermione awoke to find herself draped over the wizard, and he had seemed quite comfortable with his arm throws over her waist. Before Hermione left his room, Severus cupped her cheek and brushed his lips against her forehead.

It wasn't until she was in the midst of bathing and changing that Hermione had the distinct impression that something wasn't right. It felt as if she were missing something, only she didn't know what that something was.

Whatever it was, it had her feeling like a crazy person at the moment, and Hermione needed something to take her nerves off edge. Their schoolbooks hadn't been sent to Grimmauld Place yet, and she didn't even have that as an excuse to go escape to her room.

Another idea struck, and Hermione summoned a Muggle ballpoint pen and paper, deciding to write a letter to her parents. Their contact had been sporadic at best, purely to make sure that no unwanted attention was being drawn to the Grangers. Still, Hermione vowed to stay in touch as much as she was able to.

Filling up five sheets of paper front to back, and wondering if she should have used parchment instead, Hermione folded up her missive and tucked it in between the pages of her book.

"Finished writing your story, have you?" Ron asked, looking up from the magazine that Harry had given him.

"Be quiet," Hermione shot back. "When did your mum say they were coming by to bring our school books?"

"Honestly, Hermione, are books the only thing you can think of right now?" the redhead asked in an aggrieved tone. "School doesn't start for another two weeks; can't we at least finish out the holiday without having to see anything dealing with Potions or Ancient Runes?"

"Oh, because a Quidditch magazine is so much better?"

"Will you both give it a rest?" Harry piped in. "The last thing I feel like hearing is you two bickering."

"What?" Hermione asked, aghast. "I was the one minding my business, but Ronald here is the one that started bothering me!"

"Ron, leave Hermione alone," Harry quipped, sounding like a parent that was trying to muster up patience with a child that wanted sweets for breakfast.

"What did I do?"

Ron still had his hands thrown up in despair as Hermione shook her head, rising from the sofa and stepping over him. Figuring that perhaps she needed to be alone before she ended up losing her temper, she made her way upstairs to her bedroom.

Even thought it was only five in the afternoon, Hermione lay across her bed, leaving her book by her side. Now that she'd written the letter to her parents, she found herself wondering how they were doing. Mr Weasley was usually the one that would pass Hermione's letters onto her parents, knowing how to do so unobtrusively. The last time she'd written to them was three weeks ago, and that was only because she'd nagged her way into having her letter sent.

Her parents, and Crookshanks, whom she asked repeatedly about in her last letter, were faring well, and that somewhat put Hermione at ease. They hadn't exactly been thrilled about spending the entire summer away from their only child, but understood that it was essential to keep her safe.

She ignored the fact that her parents would become apoplectic had they known about how their daughter was spending her nights, especially considering that her dad was most likely only a few years older than the Potions master.

Sometimes it was easy to forget about their age difference, or the fact that her lover was also her teacher. She definitely didn't think about either fact once they were naked, clinging to one another beneath the sheets. He wasn't Snape, the callous Potions professor; he was Severus, who had scars covering his back and chest yet still had the softest skin she'd ever touched, and calluses on his fingers that felt just right whenever they moved across her body.

For the most part the wizard continued to remain reserved and withdrawn, never volunteering his thoughts or the like, yet in his own conventional way Hermione understood that he'd somewhat let her in. Severus never seemed like the type to remain in the company of others for longer than was necessary, much less allow another into his personal space. There had been a few times when Hermione tried to push her luck and in what she thought was an innocent tone, questioned him about one thing or another. All it had taken was a mere arch of an eyebrow and that damned look in Severus' black eyes for her to fall silent.

Severus was still very much like a steel door that one could bang at and pummel until they grew tired, yet would only open if the person on the other end allowed it to. But even the most unyielding of steel doors had a weak point, even if it was the size of a pinpoint.

Hermione's bad mood last throughout the rest of the day. She was hot and bothered, only it had taken the form of being downright unreasonable, and she ended up snapping at Ron again and even Harry once as a result.

Snape, like always, remained in the shadows when he lurked about the house, yet upon overhearing Hermione soundly chastising the tactless redhead for the umpteenth time, he found himself soundlessly chuckling.

He knew the reason behind Hermione's capricious behavior. And he would have sought to remedy the situation that morning, only she managed to oversleep and woke up right before Ron and Harry emerged from their rooms. Snape had to shake Hermione by the shoulder a few times to rouse her, and when her eyes finally opened she sat up, frizzy curls hanging into her face and looking completely befuddled. Realizing the time, Hermione had bolted from the bed and dressed in a hurry, even though it was obvious that she would have preferred to remain in his room. Yet there was the unspoken agreement that the two would reconvene later that night, and Hermione dragged herself out of the bedroom to begin her day.

It was well after dinner when the house finally fell silent. All day there was a slight tension humming throughout the air, as if even the walls of Grimmauld Place sensed Hermione's agitation. Ron and Harry had begun tiptoeing around the bushy-haired witch, and both of them even prepared supper together in a collaborative effort to soothe her nerves.

Somehow even Ron knew to not ask if she was expecting her monthly, knowing that he risked the chance of Hermione's head completely spinning around, before popping off her neck and running after him with teeth bared and snapping.

The warm meal seemed to make her a bit more agreeable, and dinner passed without a hitch. An hour later, however, was a different story.

Ron and Harry both knew that Hermione always took a bath right before bed, and would usually leave the bathroom free for her. She never asked for much, nor complained when they spent an hour in the there, even if she had to go use the bathroom on the floor where Sirius' mother's old bedroom was next to. Hermione never liked going on that end of the house as Kreacher tended to lurk near his mistress's room, and even if the snarling house-elf wasn't around, she swore that she could still hear something moving about on the floor.

Therefore when Hermione began going through the preparations of preparing her bath, she already had her robe on, toilet kit and wand in hand, and a towel over her arm. She was just about to open her bedroom door to step out into the hallway when she heard another door slam in the distance, and heaved a loud sigh when she saw the bathroom light pouring out through the bottom crack.

"Are you going to be long?" she asked after knocking.

"Yeah," Ron answered, his voice muffled from the other side. "Go use the other one!"

"Ron! You know I don't like going downstairs at night!" Hermione huffed, thinking about how Kreacher tried to trip her the night before. She positively refused to go anywhere near that bathroom. "Why didn't you go downstairs? You knew I was about to take a bath!"

"Aww Hermione!" he called back. "It won't kill you this once to go use the other lav! Unless you want to wait!"

"Ronald!"

"Hermione, go away! I'm concentrating!"

"Hope you don't flush away the last of your brain cells," Hermione muttered under her breath, stalking back to her room.

She was just about to shove the door open when she felt as if someone was staring at her. Turning her head she found that Snape was indeed at the bottom of the steps across the hallway, beckoning her over with one long finger. Casting one last angry look at the shut bathroom door behind her, Hermione quietly walked over to Snape, following up the steps behind him.

Snape stopped walking once they were standing in the middle of the dimly lit hallway, his eyes blatantly appraising Hermione's robe-covered figure. "Don't you know when you argue with a daft person you end up with two idiots instead of one?" he finally asked.

"No...what?"

"Miss Granger. Assuming that you haven't lost your remaining brain cells rowing with that daft boy, surely you'll be able to take your much demanded bath up here."

Hermione swallowed hard, realizing that she must have sounded ridiculous shouting at Ron through the bathroom door. She definitely didn't know that Severus had heard the entire thing and felt a bit foolish. Foolish wasn't the only way she felt; already her and Ron's little spat had been forgotten about, now that Severus' tall form was hovering over her. Even the disgruntled look on his gaunt face did little to put her off.

Almost immediately Hermione was compelled to press herself against the wizard, nearly dropping her towel and toilet kit in the process. Now understanding just why she felt cross and anxious all day, Hermione felt a low throbbing between her legs, and was nearly desperate for Severus to untie the sash of her robe and pull her naked body against him.

Severus was only too eager to comply, and lowered his head to brush his lips against Hermione's. Her towel, wand, and toilet kit all fell onto the floor with a soft thump right before her hands wove through his lank black hair. Hermione proceeded to kiss him as if she hadn't just left his company that morning, her lips hungrily moving over his mouth and neck.

"Touch me," she whispered, hurriedly untying her robe and pressing herself against Severus. He fell back against the wall from the sudden force, yet kept his hand in place when Hermione began tugging on it.

"Are you forgetting where we are, Miss Granger?" he asked in a low, rumbling baritone that as of late made butterflies race about in her stomach.

"No, and why the Miss Granger?" she said plaintively, burying her face into Severus' chest and nuzzling her nose against the pristine white linen.

Severus reached around to the back of Hermione's head, grabbing onto the curls that had been gathered up into a sloppy bun and tilting her head back. "You know I won't call you anything but Miss Granger outside of those four walls," he told her, curtly nodding towards his bedroom, " and you seem to forget that keeping quiet isn't one of your strong points."

Hermione felt like pouting, aware that disappointment was all over her face. Severus, like always, displayed no trace of emotion, yet his eyes were focused on the sliver of naked skin peeking from between the front opening of her robe.

"I'll be quiet, I promise," she told him, reaching towards Severus' wrist again bringing it to the middle of their bodies. His face continued to remain impassive even as those long fingers carded through her pubic hair, lightly circling around her clitoris. He watched as Hermione's eyes slid shut, her teeth coming down into her bottom lip as she began writhing against his hand. She still held onto his wrist, letting go only when it was apparent that he wasn't going to stop.

It wasn't easy trying to contain her moans, not when Severus knew how to perfectly titillate her body. Hermione knew that she probably looked silly, standing there pressed up against Severus, forcing him back into the wall with robe dangled open, but she didn't care. Spreading her legs further apart, Hermione urged his hand to slide further into her damp folds, nearly losing control when one finger slipped up into her body.

Hermione's knees buckled and she had to grab onto Severus to keep from falling. Her hips continued writhing against the teasing hand, and it was all she could do to not scream when his thumb found her clit.

"I thought you needed to go shower?" Hermione heard Severus ask. Opening her eyes she began to speak, clamping her lips shut when the slowly pistoning finger inside her shifted and pressed into a spot that made her tremble.

Sod the shower! Hermione thought, the need to come her only pressing issue at that moment. She was in an awkward stance, her knees knocking into Severus as she kept the entire length of her entire body against him, her fingers were clutching onto his shirtsleeves. It was hard to ignore his growing erection as it poked her in the belly, and it was obvious that the wizard was enjoying himself. Except a second later Severus removed his hand from between Hermione's trembling thighs, laying both palms on her shoulders and urging her to stand back.

"Are you mad?" she spat accusingly, her unsatisfied body humming with arousal as she glared at the wizard whose calm demeanor ran against her fury.

"Go take your shower, Miss Granger," he told her, his firm tone clearly stating for Hermione to not challenge him.

If Hermione could have gotten away with it, she told herself that she would pinch Severus on the hand or step right on top of his black boot-covered foot, childish as it sounded.

Why is he being so difficult?! she screamed internally.

That's what had been missing all day, she suddenly realized with perfect clarity. Hermione became aroused whenever she thought about Severus touching her, but it had never been to the point where her skin felt as if it were too tight for her body. His hands had been on the brink of assuaging the ache that had taken over, only when he stopped the ache intensified and it made her insides painfully clench.

The lust kindled in his eyes was obvious, yet the reason for Severus putting their activities on hold was not. Hermione refused to be swayed, and bending to retrieve belongings that lay in a heap at their feet, she rose and grabbed Severus' left hand, attempting to tug him down the hall.

"Come on," she frowned when Severus didn't budge, as he used his weight to root himself into place. "You told me to go take my shower, remember?"

"Last I remember, you were beneath my tutelage for Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts once; am I to assume that you need lessons in the art of using a flannel?"

"For the love of Merlin, I have no idea why you're being so onerous-actually, I have an idea, but never mind that," Hermione replied, her fingers still curled around Severus' hand. "But can you just please come with me, this once?"

Severus continued to look at the pleading witch yet followed her, curious to see what she had in mind as she led them to the bathroom. Hermione didn't waste any time shutting and locking the door behind them and casting a Silencing Charm.

"You know that won't work if that insipid house-elf is around," Severus told her.

"I know," Hermione said. "But at least it'll work on Ron and Harry, not that I plan on letting them hear anything."

With that, Hermione slipped out of her robe, unashamedly standing completely naked before Severus. Briefly wondering when the hell she became so bold, Hermione shivered as she walked across the cold tiled floor to turn on the shower, testing the water to see if it was hot.

"Is this why you brought me in here with you?" Severus asked from his place by the bathroom door, "to watch you bathe? Or perhaps you were in need of a squire?"

He wasn't all that troubled; the sight of Hermione's pert, bare bottom as she leaned over the edge of the tub to fiddle with the faucet was most pleasing to his eye.

"You've pegged me right," she said, leaning up and turning around. "I need a henchman in black suit and only you will do. But for now, take that off and get in with me."

Nice, Hermione, very subtle.

Oh, sod being subtle! Did you not notice the lagoon between your legs? That isn't sweat, dear girl.

Even as Hermione stood there arguing with herself, her eyes grew wide with shock when Severus yanked the tails of his shirt out from his trousers, and slowly unfastened the small buttons lining the placket.

"Close your mouth, Hermione," Severus drawled once he was completely naked, placing a hand at the small of her back to push her towards the now hot and steaming shower.

"I'm sorry, I just can't believe you actually agreed."

The two were now enclosed in the shower space that was just big enough, and the comfortably hot water pelted down on their skin.

Severus grunted what sounded like assent to Hermione's last statement, and pushed his now soaked black hair away from his face. It was different looking at his naked body in the dim light of the bathroom, yet it was enough for Hermione to see everything. Severus no longer tried to conceal the Dark Mark on his left forearm, and after awhile Hermione's eyes stopped going towards it.

"You should know this begs the question," Severus began as he took the soap and began lathering up with brisk, purposeful movements, "as to if this is a thinly veiled attempt to see if I'll run at the sight of soap and water."

Hermione rolled her eyes and fought back a laugh. "Now that's a ridiculous idea if I've ever heard one. I know that you bathe, and wash your hair, and brush your teeth. I think I would notice if you hadn't, considering the fact that I've kissed you and slept next to you all week."

When Severus became silent again, Hermione wondered if she said too much. The two continued going through the motions of washing, yet Hermione didn't forget her initial reason for luring Severus into the bathroom with her. She definitely wanted to finish what they started out in the hallway, yet it seemed that he was merely interested in literally showering with her.

The unspoken query must have been glaringly obvious on her face, because Severus wrapped one wet arm around Hermione's waist and pulled her closer.

"I know what you want," he murmured. "I'm just curious to see how long you'll stand here for without asking for it, or at the very least, taking it."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up on her head. Her next move shocked even her, as she dropped to her knees, disregarding the water pelting down on top of her head, and took Severus' now flaccid cock into her mouth.

He smelled like the soap they'd just used and even through the shower water she was able to taste his personal essence. When he was fully erect, Hermione wrapped her hands around either of Severus' slender legs to balance herself, using momentum to continue guiding him into her mouth.

Severus barely made a noise as Hermione's lips and tongue worked over his flesh, but the firm grip his hand had on her hair was enough for her to know that he approved. Finally he let out a hoarse grunt and the other hand also came down on her head.

Hermione felt that familiar pulse between her legs again, shocked that she was getting off by Severus' slim hips writhing and bucking against her face, his hands pulling her onto his cock, stopping just short of making her gag. When he had enough of her mouth, Severus let go of Hermione's hair and yanked her up on her feet. Her legs were a bit numb from being crouched down for so long, but it didn't make a difference when she was suddenly picked up and had her back pressed against the cool tiles of the wall.

Instinctively wrapping her legs around Severus' waist and arms around his neck, Hermione felt him guide her down onto his cock, letting out a sharp gasp as she was filled swiftly. He slid into her so easily that Hermione knew she was soaking wet, not to mention the way the new position made him go deeper than before.

Intense was the only way to describe what she was feeling. Hermione's arms were tightening around Severus' neck, and his wet hair continuously brushed against her cheek as he pushed up into her body. He had both hands on her arse, slowly pulling Hermione down to meet each thrust.

Because of the wall Hermione was unable to throw her head back, and relented to biting down on her lip to keep from screaming. Every part of her, inside and out, was being stimulated, and Severus was easily controlling her body's movement from the way he held onto her behind. But when he began to go faster she nearly lost her head, letting out the faintest of whimpers and squeals.

He was relentless, alternating between a slow, circular grinding of his hips and a straightforward pumping motion. It wasn't long before Hermione's walls were clamping down and convulsing around him. Severus had to give it to her; she managed to remain quiet, even if she was breathing so hard that she was in danger of inhaling the water that still poured from the showerhead.

Hermione only lost her composure when Severus lightly bit down at the juncture of her neck, his teeth sending a jolt right to her clitoris. Between being driven up the wall by his forceful, relentless thrusts, Hermione easily came apart once more, her shrill cries threatening to ring out in the bathroom had Severus not swiftly covered her mouth with his.

Short fingernails dug into and clawed at Severus' shoulders, although neither registered it. Severus was too caught up in the feel of Hermione's tight tunnel clasping onto his cock, and desperate to feel more, his own fingers nearly became embedded into her soft behind as he fucked her harder.

There was no other word for it. Severus was completely taking Hermione apart, every last bit of coherency being driven out of her body by his pistoning cock. His mouth was still on hers and Hermione sounded as if she were about to sob from the magnitude of it all. Even Severus was having a hard time holding out, and erupted deep inside her body much sooner than he wanted to. His legs nearly grew weak from the forceful release, and he had to keep Hermione pressed against the wall to make sure that they both didn't fall.

When Hermione was finally lowered to the floor, her entire body continued to tremble, and she clung gratefully to the arms that were still around her waist.

Severus said nothing as he stared at the witch, who still looked completely dazed. Her hair had come partially undone, and her lips were a bit puffy from the brutal assault he'd laid against them with his own.

Hermione seemed to have momentarily lost her ability to speak. Even after they'd rinsed off again and got out of the shower, she remained closed-mouth until they were both dry, naked, and beneath the duvet in Severus' room.

"I don't feel like a raving lunatic anymore," she chuckled listlessly. "Maybe I just needed you to sort me out from the start."

"Does this mean I'll be attacked in the hallway whenever you get your knickers in a twist?" Severus asked, tracing around Hermione's nipple with his fingertips.

"Perhaps," she yawned. Hermione wondered if she would always feel so sleepy after sex. One thing was for sure; she definitely felt a lot more relaxed compared to when she first woke up that morning.

Severus had used his wand to dry her hair, and Hermione hoped that it would take less than a slew of drastic measures to comb it out in the morning. Either way, she was completely unconcerned for the moment, sleep being the more pressing priority.

A/N: I was asked to do a shower scene, hopefully you like? You should know that I had to *ahem* ask an expert about that one, and then accidentally said the word 'cock' over dinner. I have never backtracked so much in my life as I did yesterday evening.
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Unintentional Inveiglement