Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 131978 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 30
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money from writing these stories.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
A/N: Thank you all for your continued support! Hope that chapter got your waters flowing! ;-) Magic Words- I am sorry that I had to skip over the house condoms and D2 revisit but I didn’t want to be too repetitive. Mary— there is some more domesticity coming your way, can’t guarantee it’ll be laundry or cooking though. And for everyone who keeps asking about the red scarf— well I suppose eventually it’s going to have to resurface. Just not quite yet. Of course there’s plenty more of deliciously sinful testing to come. I’m so glad everyone loves the Wonder Water, and to clear up any discrepancies, it’s a one use type of thing! (thanks for mentioning it, BAFan.) Thank you all so much for the reviews! Hope this chapter lives up to its hype! And Bkd (and everyone else who is asking) I hope that this chapter delivers a bit more of the domesticity you’re looking for! This is a 20,000 word chapter, so hopefully it’ll make up for the long pause between updates! More soon! Keep reviewing!
                She’d found herself back in the bathroom sooner than she’d cared for, but realized that there was no sense in delaying the inevitable. The Wonder Water had left her body more than spent; two intense orgasms in such a brief period of time made her overran her body with fatigue. But as a bright young witch with a keen sense of nosing about she quickly found a stash of chilled pepper upper potions in George’s icebox. She was pleased with her little discovery, more so that she’d thought to look, after all any good inventor was bound to have them tucked away and George was a genius. Hermione had never been a fan of the taste or the immediate way her fingers would jitter after immediately downing it, but after she calmed the shaking in her hand she returned to her colleague and her employer. They were odd terms to give to the unlikely pair; even though George was paying her she had difficulty seeing him as anything more than Ron’s older brother and a friend. Severus, on the other hand, it was impossible to imagine him in any way that wasn’t as her professor. And she tried not to give his sexual lessons too much thought because even though he’d been technically teaching her, it took their teacher-student relationship to a whole new level.
                Hermione tried not to think about the way they’d clung to one another, or the way she’d clung to him, the tender stroking of his hand up and down her back. Reading too much into any one gesture was bound to start a fight. So she focused instead on what George was saying as he carefully explained that he would have to tamper with the Wonder Water a bit more to ensure that it stopped when the fun was over. It made her nervous to think they would have to retest it, but for the moment she was wound up on pepper upper potion and pure sexual energy. Her hair was still wet, she hadn’t bothered with a drying charm; it reminded her of the way he’d pulled her up and out of the water, holding her close against his frame. She was losing the battle of keeping her mind away from those thoughts when George nodded to the box of products. “Go ahead, Hermione, pick us out something else then.”
                Still a bit too terrified of the ordinary looking yellow rubber duck she picked up another bottle. “Bursting Bath Bubbles,” she read, the label printed in a bright and shiny blue. “Now edible.” This made her bite her lower lip as she walked the bottle over to George. Unscrewing the cap as she had with the wonder water she was careful letting the scent waft toward her. Hermione wrinkled her nose. “Smells like— like— almost like Red Hots.”
                George thumbed through the ledger. “Red Hots?”
                “A muggle sweet if memory serves, one of Albus Dumbledore’s prized favorites because of the face that one made after unsuspectingly ingesting one.”
                “They’re a bit like cinnamon, only not,” Hermione added and then frowned. She had never been a fan and did not like the prospect of bathing in liquid lollies. “What does it say it’s meant to do, George?”
                He’d paused at a page in the ledger and was skimming over it. “Pour into bathtub for a little extra zing. You and your partner will indeed spice up bathtub with these bursting bath bubbles.” George flipped the page. “Says there’s also a choc version, Hermione will you—”
                “Yes, yes,” she said and began to rifle through the box, finding an identical bottle of Bursting Bath Bubbles. The difference being that the bottle she currently held had a brown cap whereas the other bottle had had a red one. “I’ve got it. Now, which do we try first?” She wasn’t particularly keen to try either, but that had been her sentiments regarding nearly every product that they’d encountered thus far. Though she had been rather pleased with the Lip ‘N’ Tongue Liberator, even if it hadn’t felt as good as Severus’s tongue.
                “Let’s go with the one you opened first.” He handed the bottle back to Hermione and nodded toward the empty brass tub. Taking the bottle she walked over and tilted it on its side. A lone reddish bubble escaped from the mouth of the bottle and floated to the floor of the basin, settling there for a moment before bursting and leaving a little red ring in its wake. She frowned. Perhaps the product was unfinished or a dud. And then she felt a rumbling, as if the brass basin was vibrating, clanking against the tiled floor of George’s bathroom.
                “Oh goodness,” she said watching as the little red ring seemed to grow, spreading outward and up the walls of the tub. It looked as if a million bubbles had suddenly burst into existence from thin air, filling the tub well beyond the edges; mountains of reddish bubbles of all sizes piled nearly as tall as she stood. “Well this is…interesting,” she said and then turned her head to look at George. “Should we add water? Or— what do you think?”
                George shrugged. “Hop in, you too, Severus. And we’ll just wait and see what happens.”
                The logic which George applied to their current situation didn’t bode well with her but seeing that she had little choice in the matter otherwise, Hermione lifted one leg up and then paused, remembering that she still donned her robe. Shrugging out of it she climbed into the brass bathtub, hundreds of little red bubbles popping against her skin as she did. “Oh!” she cried, each pop feeling a bit like a tiny slap to her flesh. “They sting!” she cried as she shifted her body through the mounds of bubbles. “Like a little snap popping against your skin— oh!” Bubbles were crunching beneath her feet and all up and down her legs. Standing in the tub with the bubbles surrounding her she was covered nearly up to her breasts and was terrified to sink down. The bubbles continued to snap and sting all around her. As they were bursting she noticed two things; the first being that the bubbles were not dissipating, in fact they seemed to be multiplying. And the second was that the tub was slowly beginning to fill with a heated liquid, presumably some sort of fluid from the burst bubbles.
                “George!” she cried, feeling the water heating her skin as it rose up to her shins. “This is— ooh! Ouch! This is really unpleasant— ugh! Ow!” she cried, feeling one particularly large bubble burst against the side of her breast. Between smelling strongly like Red Hot candies and being stung as if they were lolli wasps, Hermione was desperate to escape the bubbled mass that seemed to be growing as if it were intent on consuming her. “I’m getting out— oh!” she could feel her feet practically burning up as if the water was filled with little fire ants slowly gnawing away at her skin. Raising her leg to climb back over the tub only caused more of the bubbles to burst, snapping all over her skin and stinging her further.
                She could not longer see either of them as the bubbles had risen up over her head and despite them continually popping they only continued to grow. Her chest was heaving and she could feel herself panicking as the water in the tub rose higher, now drenching her up to her knees. The stinging sensation was penetrating the skin on her legs and she was whimpering as she scrabbled to pull herself out of the tub and break through the bubbles. Two firm arms were suddenly around her midsection and she was being lifted up over the wall of the brass basin, her feet dragging over the tub lip.
                Hermione was carried, her body still practically on fire, and she felt her arms wrap around the soft terrycloth of a robed figure before being pushed back under a spray of freezing cold but largely refreshing water. She sobbed as the stinging sensations subsided and her skin began to cool, no longer feeling as if she were going to erupt like the bubbles had been. Her head fell forward against the firm warmth of his chest and she trembled with her arms still clinging desperately to him.
                “Can you stand on your own?” his voice was low.
                She slowly lifted her head from his chest and realized that his frame was shivering slightly, no doubt from plunging himself under the frigid waters with her. Even though he still wore his robe she could see that he was uncomfortable. Sniffling, she nodded her head and released her arms from around him, tipping her head back into the icy spray. “I’m alright,” she said with a shaky breath. Within moments the ice water of the shower was no longer refreshing, and she quickly stepped out from the spray, taking the fresh warm towel that he offered her. His wand was drawn and he was muttering a drying charm, first over her and then over himself.
                “If she’s alright, a little help please?” George’s voice was pinched, on the edge of exasperation as he blasted containment charm after containment charm at the enormous mass of cinnamon bubbles that had taken over half the bathroom. Every charm he blasted seemed to spur loose a few more of the bubbles, and they were multiplying faster than he could restrain them.
                Severus tipped her chin up and gazed down into her eyes. “Are you alright?” he asked, searching her eyes.
                “Now that I’m not being snapped to death and burned alive, yes I think so,” she said with a weak hesitant smile. He did not return the smile, only nodded before sweeping over to where George stood and began blasting charms at the mass of bubbles alongside the ginger-haired wizard. Hermione watched from the edge of the shower as they struggled with the bubbles and their exponential multiplicity but after a time they managed to contain them completely. “The icy water seemed to rid them from me, maybe we ought to shoot a spray of cold water at it?” she suggested, the towel tied firmly around her still trembling figure.
                “It’s better than nothing,” said George who used his wand to transfigure the icy showerhead and draw it close to him like a fireman’s house. Within seconds of blasting the mass of bubbles they shriveled, popped and were no more. “Bloody hell,” he said with eyes wide in disbelief. “Hermione, I’m so sorry, are you alright?”
                She nodded her head. After all it wasn’t his fault that the product had gone awry. She couldn’t be mad at him, she had signed up for the job and knew the risks with testing new products. “Yes, George, I’m fine. I mean, I don’t see any lasting welts or burns or anything.”
                Severus turned to face her, walking toward her with his wand drawn. “Remove your towel,” he said with a stern voice. Though it wasn’t demeaning or even frightening, Hermione still found herself trembling at his command. She did as he said and pulled the towel away from her figure, watching nervously as he paced around her, looking up and down every inch of her body, his wand emitting a faint purple glow at the tip as he moved. She gasped when she felt his palm sweep down the length of her spine and over her right buttocks, curving around between her legs. His palm dragged up over her smooth mound, continuing its journey up her torso until he’d brushed her breasts. Severus drew his hand back and nodded at her. She quickly drew the towel back around her figure, biting her lower lip as she looked up at him. “Your skin appears to be unharmed, feels normal, doesn’t seem to have any lingering effects of that bubbled monstrosity.”
                “I think I see what Fred was trying to do,” George said reading through the ledger. “But he must have made the formula too strong,” he frowned and then picked up the cinnamon bubble bottle. “With a fraction of the formula, the bubbles should pop slowly, leaving a warm liquid to bath in, the occasional bubble zinging against the skin like a lover’s snap. I think.” He paused. “Severus, do you think this formula could be tinkered a bit?” he asked.
                Severus moved over to the ledger and mulled it over. “Perhaps,” he said simply and then crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you intend to have us try the other bottle? Before you do I wish to see the formulaic notes for it.”
                Hermione shuddered. She was not keen to have a repeat experience, especially not if the bubbles were chocolate. She couldn’t fathom what sort of havoc could occur. With a tremble in her legs she walked over to where they stood and leaned over George’s shoulder. “I don’t know if—”
                “The formula seems quite different for this set, Miss Granger.” Severus’ voice was not terribly reassuring to her ear, but what he said next seemed to strike her dumb. “If you wish I’ll try it first.”
                She could feel her heart thudding in her chest and while she longed to attribute it to the frightening experience she’d just undergone, a part of her couldn’t deny that his chivalrous offer wasn’t getting to her. Nodding her head she stepped back and stared at the tub. “Alright.” It was all she could manage to say. Hermione watched as he took the bottle and walked over to the tub, uncapping it as she had, and tilting it onto its side.
                The bottle of chocolate scented bubbles poured very differently; a thunderous rush of tiny dark brown bubbles racing out and down into the basin. Hermione watched in awe as the bubbles expanded, quickly filling the tub, each one uniformed in size, slightly larger than a golf ball, translucent and sweetly scented. When the tub was full to the lip the bubbles stacked themselves in drifts making it look like chocolate bubble snow before capping off about a foot above the tub’s edge.
                Severus poked a slender finger at one of the bubbles, quirking his lips to the side when it did not pop. Plucking it up between his fingers he squeezed it, practically flattening it between his index and thumb before it burst in a gooey plop of chocolate against his hand. Drawing his palm up beneath his nose he inhaled with caution, nodding his head. “It smells like chocolate,” he announced and then with a hesitant swipe of his tongue, he tasted the syrupy mess. “When it acts like a duck…”
                “What?” George titled his head to the side, clearly confused by Severus’ analogy.
                Hermione couldn’t help but smirk a bit. Despite it all she was amused by his sarcastic wit. “He’s saying it’s chocolate, safe to eat, George.” She said. And then she forced her lips shut, feeling a giggle about to burst forth from her mouth. She’d inadvertently become a translator; she’d never realized she could so fluently speak Snape. She turned her eyes back to Severus, watching as he shed his robe and tried to step up into the tub. The bubbles did not part for him nor snap on contact, and it was only when he had both feet planted in the tub did they start to burst under the weight of his body.
                Little splashes of chocolate erupted here and there, filling the tub with a thick sticky syrup. Hermione rushed forward a little too late as she saw him lose his footing, but his hands were thankfully quicker and he caught himself, hovering with great strain to keep from having fallen flat on his ass. As he sank down Hermione bit her lower lip; he was literally easing himself into a bath of chocolate. “Should— should I join him?”
                “Yeah, so far it seems ok. Hop in with him and play around a bit, see if you can have a go, it’ll be useless if it’s too thick or sticky for sex.”
                George’s words made her cheeks flush fully scarlet. She would never get used to the casual order to go and fuck Severus Snape. Or for him to fuck her. While her body loved the idea, her mind was still stuck on him being an authority figure. A reserved man whom she respected that just happened to have the loveliest cock that she had ever encountered. As she approached the tub she noted that he was seated in the basin, covered up to his ribs in the chocolate while several large mounds of bubbles still remained. Hermione took her time climbing up into tub, her feet sinking easily down into the sticky syrup. She’d never taken a bath in pure chocolate before. It was almost like tepid hot fudge, caught somewhere between ice cream syrup and straight up melted chocolate. An idea struck her as she settled down into the tub, her legs straddled on either side of his. “If this were heated…” she trailed off, looking at George.
                “You think it would make things easier?” George called without looking at them.
                Hermione bit her lower lip. “I don’t know about easier, but what girl wouldn’t want a luxurious soak in heated chocolate? You’d have to be cautious of how hot of course, but I mean…” she blushed. “There’s something rather tempting about being in a tub full of heated thick chocolate with your lover.” She couldn’t bring herself to look Severus in the eye as she said this. While they weren’t technically lovers, she supposed it was sort of applicable. What she wouldn’t give to fill his lovely tub back at Spinner’s End with heated chocolate and feel his hands spreading it all over her body. The chocolate level in the tub was rising, nearly up to his neck, now gently coating her breasts and she bit back a tiny moan. “I mean this is fine for now, but just imagine, George…the possibilities.”
                “I’ll make a note of it, Hermione. Go ahead and see if you two can’t have a go then.”
                She was settled over his lap but hadn’t properly sank down to feel if he was hard enough for sex. She knew that the male body had limits and operated in a different fashion from her own body. Her hands were slippery, now easily coated with the syrupy chocolate as the tub was now completely full of it, though a good bit of bubbles still rested on the surface. “Are you…” she trailed off, leaning forward not wanting to have to say it aloud. It was embarrassing enough to think about it, regardless of how much it turned her on. And while she supposed he wasn’t so old as to be easily put out, she couldn’t help but wonder if it took him longer to restimulate naturally because of his age. It called into question a whole slew of factors, like the self control he so rigorously held over himself when receiving pleasure and what things stimulated him quicker than others.
                The chocolate lapped gently against the back of her shoulders and she wished she’d had the good sense to pin up her hair, knowing that it was now being dipped in the syrup. She could feel his legs against hers and dared to lower her body just a bit, receiving her answer to the question he’d chose to ignore. Hermione pressed one hand down into the chocolate, feeling the substance envelope her like a sticky dream and she closed her mouth, the moan echoing behind her closed lips. It was satiny and rich, slippery and sticky all at once. Her hand curled around the rigid length of his cock, the chocolate acting like a lubricant as she stoked him. He bit back a hiss and she closed her eyes. “I think this is going to feel very different,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
                Hermione tried to lift her hips to guide herself over his shaft but slipped forward, her torso falling against his. Chocolate splashed around them and it was now dripping fully into her hair as well as his. She couldn’t help herself as she licked her lips; he looked ravishing covered in the rich brown velvet, a stark contrast to his pale skin. She could feel herself blushing from the thought, worried that he might be able to read her mind.
                The syrupy liquid tasted like thick rich silky chocolate, as if someone had taken her favorite bar and liquidated it; so much thicker than drinking cocoa but yet smooth and satiny like being in a pool of satin sheets that were also clinging to her skin. Both hands were now covered as she pressed on his shoulders trying to pull herself upright but he was as slippery and as sticky as she was and she only succeeded in sliding further against him.
                “It is very slippery, Mr. Weasley,” Severus said, remaining completely still beneath her.
                “You could help,” she huffed, trying to no avail to grip his shoulders properly. Again she licked her lips, catching the taste of it on her tongue more fully. “Oh, George!” she cried. “It tastes…ooh…it tastes wonderful,” she murmured and drew her fingers up to her mouth, slowly licking each one clean.
                “It did say edible,” George said, his quill scratching away in the ledger.
                “You should try it…” her voice was sultry and she blushed. She hadn’t meant to sound so wanton, but there was something about tasting the chocolate that made her eager to have him taste it too. Hermione ground her hips downward, sending little rippling waves of chocolate all around them, little dabs and dribbles splashing up onto his neck and into his hair. “Here…” she purred, holding her index finger against his lips. She pouted when he did not pull her finger into his mouth. Pressing the pad of her chocolate covered finger against the center of his mouth she traced his lower lip and then up around his cupid’s bow until his lips were covered with chocolate. “You look delectable.” Again she blushed, bowing her head a bit, realizing she sounded like a strumpet in heat.
                “Mr. Weasley I believe your chocolate is aphrodisiacally enhanced,” he said simply, remaining completely still beneath her.
                Hermione was wriggling her hips in his lap, trying to slide her body upward so that she could sink down onto his shaft; longing to be filled by him while feeling the deliciously sinful sultry satin of the chocolate that enveloped her. “Just taste it…” her purr was low and desperate as she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his jaw, smearing a bit of chocolate on his skin. “Ooh, Merlin,” she murmured. “It tastes even better against your skin.” Hearing what she’d said as if someone else had said it she quickly pulled her head back which resulted in her sliding backward and almost off his legs completely, only his knees bent up, catching her. She leaned back against the tops of his thighs, using his legs like the back of a chair as she slid down into his lap, one hand beneath the satiny chocolate now guiding his cock to her entrance.
                She could feel his body going stiff as she began to ease her weight onto him; the way the chocolate glided around making everything about the encounter especially slick only caused her to moan. Before she closed her own eyes, she noted that his had closed; the telltale sign that he was struggling to maintain his composure. In the back of her mind she realized the chocolate bath bubbles turned liquid must have been spiked with some sort of lusty augmentation because she had never felt more strongly drawn to him than she did in that moment. Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if he was feeling the same or if perhaps he knew what was happening to her and thus had refused to taste the chocolate.
                But her logical mind was quickly losing purchase against her lust driven body as she sank all the way down onto his length, unable and unwilling to suppress the moan that she uttered. Fully astride his lap with his cock buried to the hilt up inside of her, Hermione opened her eyes, her lids only rising halfway. His brow was furrowed; his eyelids clenched tightly shut and a grin spread across her lips. “Touch me…” she whispered, both hands reaching forward under the chocolate to pull his arms up to her breasts. It seemed that he could not resist his own urges and her at the same time for she found very little resistance as she placed his chocolate coated palms against her breasts.
                Being submerged in a tub of liquid chocolate made gliding up and down on his shaft both easier and harder at the same time. It took more effort to properly propel her body upright but she sank down that much faster and slid down his length. The delicious squelching sound of her body plunging down into the chocolate filled her ears and she could have sworn he tensed his fingers, gripping her breasts even if it was only for a moment. Hermione no longer cared that he was resting, and was most likely going to burst a blood vessel from straining so hard against his natural urges. In that moment all she could focus on was being coated in the thick luxurious chocolate with his thick luxurious cock sliding in and out of her tight core.
                Surges of heat filled her body as she let her head fall back, her chocolate soaked hair clinging to the back of her neck and falling heavily down over his legs. Her eyes fell closed as she gave into the sensations of sheer ecstasy; riding up and down in his lap with the slick syrup between her back and his legs easing the friction between their skin. She could feel his hands, clenching and unclenching against her breasts and she whimpered, little bubbles popping around her, splashing her with more bits of the liquid heaven. Her reverie was burst by the sound of George’s voice and she let her head fall sideways long enough to glance in his general direction. He was gazing intently down into the ledger, writing as fast as ever, and had asked something about friction.
                She heard Severus’ voice respond, mostly because it was suddenly right by her ear; he’d shifted forward their torsos now touching in places. “It glides just fine.” His voice was terse and terribly pinched. But he had felt the need to move, or had shifted inadvertently; either way there was more of him to touch and she took that as an invitation, tugging her chocolate soaked fingers through his hair. He growled but did not pull away from her when she did. Hermione couldn’t say for sure that it was all to blame on the aphrodisiac of the chocolate. She had been having dreams about him that had been driving her wild; and to suddenly find herself so overwhelmed with pleasure made it difficult to restrain those baser urges.
                It was nearly impossible to suppress the urge to thrust her lips forward and kiss him but somehow she managed. His hands were still against her breasts and she could feel the heat spiraling inside of her as she slid up and down his length, sliding down harder with every downward slip of her hips; her moans and groans punctuating each move. The telltale tightening of her walls around his slippery cock signaled the edge of her release and she was teetering on the precipice of orgasm, the chocolate only melting against her heated skin as she sank down hard and fast on his shaft.
                A deep guttural groan resounded from Severus and it seemed to be her undoing; her walls clenching in sudden spastic waves against his pulsating rod of velvety chocolate-covered flesh. Her head fell forward against his shoulder; chocolate splashing everywhere as she quaked and quivered in his lap. His body was trembling beneath hers and she felt him, if only a bit, release as well. “My god…” she panted, her voice scratchy. Hermione could not bring herself to lift her head from his body, the intense sticky and heated sensations overwhelming and consuming her entire body.
                Severus ran his fingers through her hair and it caused her to gasp, her head drawing upward to meet his gaze as she did. That familiar yet unrecognizable swirl of emotions flitted through his eyes for the briefest of seconds before he shut his lids and let out a deep, audible sigh. Again George’s voice interrupted whatever moment it was they’d been having.
                “Good then?” he chortled.
                Hermione, despite being covered fully in chocolate, knew that her cheeks were red with embarrassment. “It seems to be quite luxurious, George,” she muttered, finding her voice. “I daresay that you’ll have many a desperate witch flocking to the shop once word gets out of what this is really like.”
                If Severus agreed or disagreed he kept his opinion to himself. She was slightly put out when he began to shift beneath her, sliding his knees down into the chocolate, nearly causing her to fall deeper into the tub. She watched as he hoisted himself up to a standing position, careful to balance himself fully before reaching both hands forward in her direction. She was stunned to say the least but sheepishly put her sticky chocolate-coated hands in his and allowed him to pull her upright. Hermione wobbled a bit on her feet but his firm hand on her shoulder kept her from falling. She was grateful in that moment that most of her face was smeared with chocolate, hopefully hiding her blushing cheeks.
                “You two can shower off if you like, actually, yeah, let’s do it that way rather than using wands, make sure it comes off as easily as it goes on.” George gestured to the elongated shower wall. “I’ll pop down to the workshop and see if I can’t find a few things to modify those cinnamon bubbles,” and without another word he’d left the room.
                Severus stepped out of the tub first, his slow, deliberate movements ensuring that he remained upright despite the slippery substance in which he was covered. Hermione had begun to lift her leg up over the ledge when he placed his hand on her shoulder, steadying her so that she could easily climb out of the tub. Again she blushed, and nodded toward the shower. George had modified the standard shower in his flat’s bathroom to a long run of showers along the far wall; several heads mounted at evenly spaced intervals, some of which had benches and chairs beneath them. Moving cautiously over to the first showerhead that did not have a chair or bench beneath it, she fiddled with the faucet. She shrieked as a blast of pink steam came gushing from the showerhead. Jumping back, her heart was racing. “Oh dear,” she said, gazing at each of the various shaped showerheads. “How are we—”
                “Come here, Miss Granger,” he said, standing at the far opposite end of the shower run. She realized it was the tap he had shoved her under after the burning bubble incident. Hermione took carefully placed steps toward him, leaving chocolate footprints in her wake until she was standing just beside his equally coated body. Her eyes raked over him, a temptation too good to resist, noting the way his bony figure appeared even more defined dipped in the luxurious syrup. When her eyes met his, she bowed her head, realizing that he’d been staring at her as she visually outlined his body. “If you’re finished having quite the look…” he nodded at the showerhead.
                The lower petal of her lip was mashed between her teeth and she slowly shook her head. “Not if it’s going to be cold.”
                Severus rolled his eyes. “It’s an ordinary shower, Miss Granger. The cold water was running because you were literally burning up,” he explained.
                “Oh,” she muttered and then frowned again.
                “Go on then,” he said, his hand nudging the space between her shoulder blades, pushing her forward under the showerhead.
                Did he mean for her to go first? Hermione was about to turn and offer him the shower instead but his arm reached over her shoulder, tugging the faucet head to the left. A spray of heated, well-pressurized water spilled down onto her head and she quickly closed her eyes. She didn’t dare move, any further forward and she would have been pressed against the wall, and she had the distinct impression if she backed up she’d back right into his body. That notion made her body heat all over again; the immediate throbbing between her legs increasing tenfold when she thought about the fact that they were both naked while showering together. It wasn’t as if anything would become of it; she had to focus her mind. After all he was going to insist they be professional. And it wasn’t as if he had given her any reason to think he would ever be anything but, regardless of whether they were in the workshop or not.
                His hands were gripping her shoulders before she could think on it or even make a sound. Hermione found herself spun around, facing him with the heated spray now rushing down her back. “Close your eyes, Miss Granger,” he said. His voice was calm, as if it were the most natural thing to be covered in chocolate post coitus and sharing a hot shower. Severus slid his hands up either side of her slender neck, tilting her head back into the spray and she closed her eyes as he did. The feeling of water pelting down against her face was more pleasant than she had expected. She suspected it was enhanced by his fingers tangling through her hair. Only they weren’t tangling, they were gently stroking her locks; washing her locks free of the chocolate.
                Her lips parted as if to speak but she quickly pressed them together, thinking better of it. There was no sense in asking him what he was doing; he was only likely to reply with a sarcastic answer. She kept her eyes closed and her mouth shut, just savoring the sensation of his fingers in her hair. Hermione was certain that unless George had some sort of hair product that needed testing she was unlikely to ever feel such a treat again.
                “It could stand shampoo but will do for now,” he said, his hands slowly tracing back down the column of her neck, resting momentarily on her shoulders before shifting her to the side, trading places with her beneath the spray. He was a good two heads taller than her and easily tipped his own head back into the deluge of water, letting the little bit of chocolate that had splashed his locks rinse out. Hermione blinked back droplets of water from her eyelashes and then gazed at his body, noting that although the water was helping he was still sticky and tinted brown in places.
                “Soap, I think,” she said, realizing that she as well was still quite covered in the chocolate. It took her a few tries before she was able to forcibly summon a bar of soap from some hidden location within George’s bathroom. Clutching the bar in her hand she held it out to him, expecting that he would take it and scrub himself free of any remaining syrup. Her body stiffened when his fingers lingered against hers, idly stroking the bar for a moment. When he took the soap from her hand she nearly breathed a sigh of relief except she quickly found herself once again under the spray of the shower.
                “Turn around,” he said without preamble. He did not wait for her to comply before turning her face into the spray and pushing her head forward so that her hair hung over her shoulders, clinging and curing around the tops of her breasts. Water was now streaming directly down her spine and despite the way her legs were beginning to tremble it felt good. And then she felt his hands; his rough slightly calloused, large hands, circling and shifting around her back. Sweeping up and down her sides and over the top of her shoulders, spreading soapy lather over her skin. Her breath hitched in her throat when he began to rub her breasts, soap bubbles now covering her front and backside. She whimpered when his hands slid down her torso, leaving her nipples stiffened and unattended.
                Hermione couldn’t speak. She couldn’t think; what on earth was he trying to do to her? Forcing her mind to focus she kept her eyes open, staring at the drab tiles of the shower wall. His hands had migrated, now circling around her legs and between her thighs; so familiar a touch as if she were not a woman and he were not a man. It made her shudder when she felt his fingers glide over her womanhood, though he did not linger. “Ooh,” she moaned quietly, unable to help herself. But if he took notice he kept silent, not slowing or stopping his ministrations until her body was completely covered in the soapy lather. Again his hands turned her in the spray, this time slowly spinning her around and around until she was rinsed free of all the suds.
                Her wide eyes gazed up at him, disbelieving; and so terribly aroused that she thought she might melt into a puddle at his feet. She caught his eyes and blushed, noting how intently he stared at her. “Yes?” she whispered, her voice pinching off into a squeak.
                “Are you going to step out and let me finish? You’re quite thoroughly cleaned.”
                The pit of her stomach clenched tight like a rock sinking to the bottom of a very shallow pond. Hermione dumbly nodded her head; struck silent by his request. It hadn’t been callous or even cold, simply a question and a statement. Stepping out from beneath the spray she suddenly felt very vulnerable and snatched for a towel as quickly as she could find one. She kept her eyes away from the shower as she dried off and donned her robe; not truly understanding why he had taken such efforts to assist her with washing. It had felt so brilliant and yet he’d been quite clinical about the process. Though his touches had felt so gentle and intimate; it was driving her mad.
                It felt likes ages passed before Severus finished in the shower; emerging chocolate free and wrapped from his waist down in a towel. He dressed in his robe and then turned to the bathroom door, staring out through it. They waited in silence for George to return. When he did Hermione felt the tension in the room ease slightly, but it didn’t do much for the coven of butterflies that had taken flight in her stomach. Or the slick heat that was still burning between her thighs. She tried not to think about either as she walked over to the sink counter and peered once more into the box of products.
                “What did you have in mind next?” she asked quietly.
                “Something that will give Severus a break, if you need one,” George said, turning his eyes to the dark-haired wizard. “Though I brought a few Lustipops up just in case,” he patted the back pocket of his jeans. “Just pick something out and we’ll see if it’s doable.” Severus gave a slight shrug of his shoulders, prompting George to nod at Hermione.
                She had been picking up various products from within the box, still too perturbed by the rubber duck to look at it properly, when her hand glided over a small box. “How about this one?” she asked, holding the box in her hand. It was white, virtually non-descript save for the precisely printed red letters across the front. “It says— Lover’s Soap.”
                George began flipping through the ledger, looking for notes on the product. Hermione could only imagine how Severus was feeling. He had mentioned at least once that it was nothing more than a job, and although she supposed their line of work technically made them lovers, she couldn’t believe that he would be pleased thinking of them as such. Lovers implied that they were intimate with one another on a level that was more than just physical; though she certainly experienced hints of that; the way he’d assisted her in the shower moments ago coming immediately to mind.
                “Lover’s soap. Make getting your intimate bits squeaky clean a sensual experience for you and your lover” said George. “Then there’s a note off to the side that says milk, dove, glove.”
                “What?” Hermione asked.
                “Look in the box and see if there’s a glove. Or a dove.” He shrugged.
                Hermione looked back into the box, shuffling bottles and toys around; pushing tubes to one side until she’d thoroughly searched the box. “No glove or birds in here, George.” She hadn’t actually expected to find a dove, perhaps a toy one like the creepy rubber duck, but in so far as she could see there wasn’t anything even remotely close. “So now what?”
                George shrugged his shoulders. “Let me clear out the brass tub—” he paused a moment and then shook his head. “No, I think this one is probably better served with a test in the shower.” He handed the box back to Hermione and then took his seat once more on the stool. The little cardboard flaps were easily plied open and she had no trouble in slipping the bar of soap from its box. At first it appeared to be an ordinary bar of soap; save for its peculiar shape. White and smelling faintly like a fresh bar of soap ought to, she held it in her hand and stared at it. Shaped a bit like a disfigured hand she shrugged and moved over toward the shower.
                “Will you get the water going?”
                Severus nodded and then shrugged out of his robe. Back to the shower with him, and this time she imagined it would be just as intimate. The thought caused her to shiver, which she masked by shifting her weight from foot to foot as if debating over the soap and its intentions. Out of habit she began to chew on her lower lip but thinking of the way he’d touched her lips the night before, when demonstrating to her the finer points of how to properly deliver fellatio, she stopped. He was practically under her skin, even her bad habits had her body betraying her. She could hear the water running behind her. Turning with the bar of soap in hand she slipped, albeit awkwardly, out of her robe and stepped into the small space they had shared but moments ago.
                There was truly no reason for them to be pressed together; the shower run was wide enough, though she supposed that standing side by side to test a soap product that would clearly involve rubbing one another seemed a little silly. She could once again feel the butterflies in her stomach; turning and flipping and driving her mad. Being pressed so close to him brought back that familiar intimacy he had displayed before, seldom as the occasions had been. The night when he’d eased her into her first experience with anal sex, and the way he’d massaged her back before guiding her through her first encounter with fellatio; those tender moments gave his proximity a familiarity, making it feel intimate. It was intimacy; the thing that he seemed to shy away from a great deal, but she craved it deeply. And it wasn’t until that moment that she realized she craved it all the more because it was him.
                Her mind didn’t have time to think on the ridiculous conclusion she’d just drawn because his hands were bracing her shoulders and his eyes were searching hers. “If you’re too worn down from the last product—”
                “No, no I’m fine,” she insisted. It was peculiar, albeit pleasant, that he seemed so concerned; though there had been another dreadfully unpleasant experiment gone wrong to contend with. She was rather enjoying the change of mood, compared to his usual sarcasms and acerbic tongue it was a field day. “I just, thinking is all…”
                “Try not to over think, Miss Granger, it leads you to the worst possible conclusions,” he said and then let his hands slide down from her shoulders, falling to rest at his sides. It hadn’t taken long for the bubble of his pleasant behavior to burst, but it was almost comforting in a way to have him being more like himself. She knew he was right; the more she thought on it the more she would try and read into it, and supplant notions that were merely her mind’s creation.
                “Right,” she muttered and then curled her fingers around the bar of soap. Hermione stepped forward, noting how he stepped back just slightly as she did. They were both under the spray more fully and she pressed the bar of soap against the front of his shoulder. As the soap made contact with his skin she noted the little heart shaped bubbles that formed in the lather, lingering against his arm as she swept her way down the length of his limb. “That’s cute,” she said, receiving a grunt in return for her comment. She forced herself not to sigh. It wouldn’t do to show annoyance at his responses; half the time he gave none and she supposed she was meant to be grateful that he’d responded at all. “Little heart shaped bubbles so far,” she called to George, wondering if he could hear them properly over the spray of the shower.
                “Is your hand tingling?” Severus asked, drawing her attention back to him.
                “No, wait, a little,” she said, frowning. Hermione pulled her hand back from his arm and gazed in surprise at her palm. The bar of soap had vanished. Only it hadn’t vanished so much as it had absorbed into her skin, the filmy whiteness of it visible just beneath the surface of her palm; little heart imprints now lining her fingers. “Oh my,” she said and then pressed her hand flat against his chest. “Does it tingle when I do that?”
                “A little,” he said. Severus stood watching her, and it made her insides quiver. They were only pressed together in a heated shower, after all, and naturally her body was in a mood most treacherous. With slow sweeping circles she began to rub her hand all over his chest, leaving a trail of white foamy heart-shaped bubbles in her wake. He drew in a short sharp breath when she passed over one of his nipples. Her eyes were wide, gazing at him expectantly. “Feels like a pulse,” he said. “The soap must be engineered to respond to erogenous zones.”
                “Alright…” she trailed off. Hermione knew where the erogenous zones on her body were and imagined they would be mostly the same on his; though a part of her couldn’t help but wonder if they were slightly different on the male anatomy. She felt foolish asking such a question and already she could feel the sting of blush in her cheek. “Should I—”
                “Continue whatever it was you were planning to do, Miss Granger.” He said. His voice was flat, though not nearly as annoyed as she’d expected. He could be difficult at the best of times. She should have been pleased with his permission to do as she had intended; and that should have sparked sexually mischievous thoughts in her mind only she found herself still ruminating on erogenous zones and their differences in the male and female body.
                “I want to try something,” she announced and then pulled her hand back from his torso. She didn’t wait to see if he would nod his head or even watch her as she did. “Here,” she said and turned around, stepping back until her backside was pressed flush against his front. Hermione leaned her head back against the dip of his collarbone, her wet curls now clinging to his skin. “Give me your hand,” she said, waiting with baited breath. She expected him to push her away or at the very least question her. But when he moved his arm against her waist and offered up his hand she grinned, thankful he couldn’t see her face. “Lace your fingers over mine,” she said. She held out the hand that had been infused with the lover’s soap.
                His fingers were long and elegant and although he’d touched her a great deal before this was the first time that she’d ever felt his fingers twined with hers. They were bony but not skeletal; feeling just right pressed overtop her hand. Hermione repressed the urge to moan; she was content. Their bodies were aligned in a fashion most intimate, his hand now clutching hers like a proper lover; it was bliss. Her mind was moving in slow motion as she savored the sensation of how intimately their bodies were joined; and he wasn’t even pressed inside of her.
                “Miss Granger?” his voice stirred her from that moment of delicious bliss.
                “Yes, sorry, I was thinking again,” she confessed. But he did not pull his hand away. “I’m going to move my hand, I’m hoping that the soap has a similar effect, just want to see if having your hand to add additional pressure will increase the effect or perhaps even transfer some of the soap to you.” She thought she sounded very scientific, even though her voice was trembling slightly.
                “Very well.” They were words of consent. He wasn’t berating her for being sentimental or trying to make the task something more than it was; so far she was off to a good start. Hermione pressed her palm against the center of her chest, pressing down onto her flesh just a bit and he echoed the pressure, making her feel as if she could melt upward into her own palm. Little tingly sensations spread over her skin and already she could feel her body heating; a furnace burning strong between her legs as her mind roved over the possibilities.
                “Okay…” she exhaled and then slowly began to move her hand over her right breast; fluid sweeping circles that built a fluffy white lather of bubbly hearts. When her palm and his fingertips grazed her nipple she inhaled sharply; it was as he had described. A pulse of pleasure that jolted into her body through her skin and down to her core. Hermione’s head lulled back a bit more, the back of her crown now resting against the top of his shoulder. She closed her eyes. Circle after circle, she massaged her breast until it was completely covered in the foamy white hearts, slowly dragging her hand with his atop it to her left breast. His fingers were slightly longer than hers and the fleshy pads of his fingertips touched her skin as she began to trace ovals and figure-eights around the soft pliable tissue of her bosom. Another series of pulses swam through her body; and she could feel her legs starting to tremble.
                Hermione leaned back a bit more, the soft but firm feeling of his body behind her letting her body relax as she did. He wasn’t overly muscular; strong enough to lift her soaking wet from a bathtub that much he’d proven. And he wasn’t particularly round; a small rounding of his middle that seemed perfectly natural to her, slender legs but sturdy on his feet; his body was a wonderland that she desperately wanted to explore. But in that moment she was content to be leaning back against it; with the heated spray of the shower sliding down over her skin, intensifying the sensations of being pressed against him all the more. She guided his hand along, sweeping back and forth over her breasts, circling the outer edge of her areola sin such a way that his fingertips brushed her stiffening nipples with every stroke.
                The faintest hint of cream titillated her nostrils; like a pleasant non-descript baked good warmed and ready and doused in ice cream. Her eyelids fluttered as she continued to ease her hand over her body, up and down the space between her breasts, ever shift of her arm letting the tips of his fingers touch lower and lower until he was teasing the top of her bare mound. She knew it was her own hand with his situated atop it and for the most part her own touch but there was something wildly erotic about feeling the way his hand extended over hers; knowing that he was touching her.
                “I wonder if it’s mild enough for…” she trailed off, her voice a breathy whisper. She hadn’t realized just how much her breasts had been heaving; the touch of her hand laced with his and the soap leaving her insides burning hot. Already she could feel the heat between her thighs, igniting the pilot light in her core. She was melting just thinking about it; the prospect of being touched by him, however minimally it was, made her legs tremble again.
                Hermione had expected him to pull his hand away; to reprimand her or at the very least to make a verbal protest of some sort. But he remained silent, his fingers still laced over hers and she all but squealed in delight, harshly swallowing the sound that threatened to escape her lips. Guiding their hands down over her mound she spread her legs apart, water sluicing down over them as she began to rub slow, firm circles over her mound, curing her fingers just enough to feel the tips of his fingers brushing her lips. It was an intimate caress; her palm cupping her mound, his hand mimicking hers. She was losing herself in the repetitive motion; her hips arching back against him, grinding against his body.
                The pressure his fingers exerted down on hers was gradually building until she felt that he was guiding her hand. He was now stroking their twined fingers through her slick folds, rubbing his fingertips against the delicate nerve bundle of her womanhood. Little white heart bubbles covered her sex and she shuddered feeling a pulse of pure pleasure shock her center. Her body was begging for more as she rocked back against him; the feeling of his flesh against hers with the steamy water streaming down over them making her pant that much harder. Soap had never felt so good. Hermione was grinding in a firm rhythm, her head lulled completely back against him, eyes now closed. But his fingers continued to move; squeezing her sex, rubbing her clit, the soap foaming around their joined hands and she could feel herself edging closer and closer to release.
                The pad of his middle finger was rubbing circles around her clit; she was no longer guiding the movement of their hands. A single shift of his hand brought their twined fingers between her folds, the heel of his palm now grinding into her clit. She gasped and then groaned as his middle finger dipped into the liquid of her core; curling against her inner walls. Hermione came suddenly; mewling breathlessly as her body shuddered her release. Her quivering figure collapsed back against his body but his other arm was drawn around her midsection before she could fall.
                “It would seem it is mild enough,” he said. His voice caused her eyes to shoot open. With a slight tilt of her head she found herself gazing up into his piercing stare. They were still pressed together, her still leaning quite heavily on him, their hands still joined; his other arm still around her waist. The loss of contact was dreadful. While he did not push her away he stepped back, releasing her in every way as he pressed his back against the tiles of the shower wall. Hermione was bereft; beside herself with how very exposed she suddenly felt.
                She crossed one arm over her breasts, turning around to face him. Without meaning to bring their bodies close once more she stepped forward into the spray, shivering as the little white heart bubbles washed away. It was impossible not to notice the way his cock hung semi erect between his thighs. And with water streaming down his torso it made the pronounced lightning bolt of pubic hair that much more prominent. She was tempted to ask George for more of the depilatory just to keep him from looking so absurd; though there was hardly anything absurd about the way his cock seemed to slowly grow under her gaze. “Should I…er, should we…” she placed her still soapy hand against his lower abdomen. A bunch of heart bubbles blossomed against his skin and hung around the creases where his thighs joined his torso.
                Severus held her gaze. “If you must.”
                He reminded her of the plumbing in her childhood home; running hot and cold, and completely unpredictable. One moment he was sensually caressing her body, giving into the pleasures that she had so desperately sought from him and the next he was standoffish and aloof, clinical and reserved. She couldn’t make sense of him, though she figured it was best if she stopped trying. Hermione nodded her head and began to move her hand down, gently massaging the thatch of curls above his cock. His erection twitched, filling and firming until it was upright against his torso and she was massaging over the velvety steel rod.
                His hiss made her pause and for a moment she worried that the soap bubbles were irritating him or stinging him. But when she glanced up at his features her lips curled into a smile. He had hissed because it had jolted pleasure through him as it had through her when she’d been touched. Only he was trying to resist it. Hermione let her soapy hand slide down the length of his shaft without curling around it until she was cupping his balls. Resuming her circularly squeezing massages, she grinned when his hips bucked forward; a physical reaction that even he wasn’t strong enough to withhold. Leaning forward she brought her lips to his chest, just resting her mouth against his skin as her fingers continued to curl and flex around his balls; heart-shaped soap bubbles rising all around his midsection.
                She could feel him his frame shuddering; the desperate need to hold it all in slowly coming undone. Hermione slipped her fingers slowly back, rubbing the sudsy hearts between his cheeks, her lips parting to place feather light kisses against his pectoral muscles as she heard him groan. It was a choked sound as if he was forcing himself to be silent, but she’d still heard it and that made all the difference in the world. And then there was the hand; his fingers threading through her hair and she sighed against his skin. But he was pulling her head up from his chest, his other hand gripping her soapy wrist like a vice, pulling it back from between his legs. His eyes looked stormy; a dark swirl of something wicked and lusty, some carnal beast that he was clearly struggling to contain.
                “That will be enough of that,” he rasped, his voice sounding like gravel.
                She should have been terrified but instead his coarse sound sent a shiver through her body and her hips rolled forward. He had quite the effect on her regardless of the fact that she had been sated a few moments ago. He had turned from her, letting the spray of the showerhead wash down over his torso before turning the faucet off. Hermione shook free the remaining bubbly hearts from her hand and within moments the little imprints beneath her skin faded and her palm stopped tingling.
                “So it’s mild then?” George asked, looking up when he heard the water stop. “No trouble with…” he gestured at them.
                “No, it was fine, for both of us,” she said with a weak smile on her lips. “Perfectly mild, didn’t irritate, in fact it stimulates a good bit.”
                “The heart-shaped bubbles are strictly novel,” Severus added, drying himself off with a towel before donning his robe.
                Hermione could still see the way his cock strained, despite his best efforts to hide it beneath his robe. At least she could volunteer them to test an intercourse product next if one remained. She knew that he would have his release that way whether he wanted it or not. While she loathed him for his ridiculous self control she knew what being worked up without release was like and didn’t wish it on anyone, not even him. “What else have you got, George?” she asked.
                “Well, if you two didn’t—”
                “We did not.” Severus said.
                “But he’s ready to go,” Hermione said moving to stand beside him. Severus said nothing, nor did he deign to look in her direction. She wondered if she had overstepped by announcing it but after a moment decided that she didn’t care. She was ready to move on and play again. The orgasm she’d experience in the shower with her hand and his joined together had been blissful but not nearly as strong as the ones she had experienced with other sorts of stimulation.
                “Oh, alright,” said George. “Well, um, the Shower of Love might be worth a go,” he said with a sheepish grin crossing his face.
                “The shower of love?” she repeated, the word alone sending a thrilling zap to her core.
                “Another shower, Mr. Weasley?” Severus said. She could hear the slight irritation in his voice.
                “Oh, it’s not just any shower, Severus, it’s— well, come back over to the shower run,” he said moving over to the wall of showerheads. George pointed to a shower in the middle of the row of showerheads; beneath this one rested an odd looking table. Hermione stepped up beside it and frowned. Upon closer inspection it wasn’t a table at all but rather a makeshift mattress like the one they had transfigured in the workshop. Only it looked a bit like a waterbed mattress and was no larger than the twin bed in Severus’ bedroom at Spinner’s End. Already she didn’t like the look of it. The bed, if she could call it that, made her stomach turn upside down, but looking up at the showerhead made it that much worse. The enormous ovoid metal head was polished a shiny metallic red and appeared to have an assortment of tiny holes of all shapes and sizes scattered across its surface.
                “So you want us to have sex. On a bed. In the shower.” She found herself saying without even realizing that she’d stopped thinking and started speaking.
                “Essentially, yes.” Said George. “Fred had the showerhead all worked out, but I imagine there’s only so much a person can enjoy its various functions will standing up,” he shrugged his shoulders and gave a little grin. “I’ve always fancied the notion of being cuddled up in bed with your lover and rather than having to give up that comfort to go have a rousing bout of steamy shower sex…well, that the shower should come to you. I think with this— though the bed isn’t so much a bed as a makeshift bed…” he trailed off. “You get the idea. I can worry about the logistical marketing of it later. First you two need to work through the cycle.”
                “Cycle?” she asked.
                “I’ve programmed it to rotate through the various functions of the showerhead. Fred’s original design included a remote of sorts but that seemed cumbersome. So for now, when you press a certain button a pre-programmed cycle of effects works itself for a pre-determined amount of time.”
                Hermione stole a glance at Severus. He was looking stoic as ever, his face passive, his arms crossed over his chest. If he were annoyed or displeased he wasn’t giving any indication. She didn’t find herself particularly annoyed or displeased though a bit nervous. Rolling around in a bed and having sex was definitely an activity reserved for lovers and while she knew they were only testing things she didn’t need another reason for her mind and body to betray her logical senses.
                Severus had already stepped over to the makeshift bed and was sitting on its edge; appearing to be of the persuasion that the sooner they started the sooner it would be over. Hermione slipped out of her robe, handing it to George before joining him; their thighs touching as she sat beside him. She tried not to think about how similar it was to the bed she’d laid in the night he’d held her close and guided his cock into her ass for the first time. But the image and the sensations crept into her mind unbidden and she could feel a low burn starting to build in her core. The mattress was wobbly, not quite like a waterbed but not firm like a regular mattress either. She wondered if this had been George’s best attempt at making intercourse in the shower easier or if the transfiguration had simply gone wrong.
                “Lie back,” said Severus. Hermione found herself obeying without even thinking; her body hopping to please him. With her legs curled up she eased her body down into the shifting mattress, laying on her side in a ball, waiting to see if he would push her onto her back or spoon behind her as he had done that night in his room. It was almost too much to hope for as she watched him shed his robe and slide down onto the bed beside her, leaning up awkwardly over her body without really touching her.
                “Right, well, I’m going to start the cycle and you two can just sort of go at it however you find it to be most comfortable. Or have a bit of a roll around, see if you can manage a few different positions,” George suggested and then reached up over them to tweak the large ovoid showerhead. Immediately a gush of hot steamy water came pelting down on them. It startled her and she blinked her eyes several times before turning fully onto her back, gazing upward at Severus.
                “Well, this should prove interesting,” she whispered, his body blocking some of the heated spray. The pressure that was raining down over their skin was intense; almost like little bullets made of bursting hot water. Her hair was quickly soaking through, not that she’d had a chance to properly dry the curly mass after their last encounter. It felt slightly awkward; lying back on something comfy with water pouring down over her, though the heat of the water seemed to keep her body intrigued, her hips subtly rocking upward as he knelt between her thighs and lined his body over hers. She could feel the swollen head of his cock at her entrance and she shivered, despite the heat of the water and despite the close proximity of their bodies.
                Severus leaned down; his body touching hers, their chests pressing together as he rested his forearms on either side of her head; pinning her in a fashion to the makeshift mattress beneath. Hermione closed her eyes and tried to focus. The overwhelming desire to reach her hands up and tangle her fingers into his hair was almost too much to resist; the urge to press her lips to his and kiss him fully niggling at her in the worst way possible. She gasped aloud, eyes open and gazing up at him when he pushed himself fully into her without preamble or announcement.
                Hermione was certain she’d never be used to the way he so casually insinuated himself into her throbbing core; the way his cock stretched and filled her, his balls pressed firmly against the globes of her ass. That delicious moment where he held himself buried to the hilt deep inside of her was over all too quickly as she felt him pulling out of her, his hips working hard to drive a steady but firm rhythm. The way he held himself up; the weight of his body resting on his forearms, lined their bodies together perfectly, skin touching skin all the way up their torsos. His hips were churning; every stroke sending a punctuated jolt of pleasure up into her core as the thatch of shaped curls that still covered his pubic mound brushed idly against her clit.
                Her body was shielded from most of the spray but she could feel the water pooling around her as she lie on the makeshift mattress; keeping her skin heated as she undulated beneath him. She imagined that this was what it was like to have sex on the beach in a shallow of water, only without the sand or the delicious scent of the nearby ocean. His wet locks fell forward over his face in stringy stands, dripping onto her cheeks the water from above as with every thrust. Her hands reached up and wrapped around his back; drawing him even further down onto her body; the delicious sensation of his weight upon hers making her gasp. She was surprised when he did not resist being pressed so close to her body, but instead continued pumping his shaft into her core.
                “Turn onto your side,” he panted, his voice clearly pinched.
                For a moment Hermione hadn’t registered that he was actually giving her a command. And then she felt a rush of cool air across her chest; their bodies parting leaving her open and exposed. He’d pulled himself up from her, his cock withdrawn from her heat and she whimpered. Severus placed his hand on her hip and gripped her, pulling over onto her side as he skillfully slid over her figure and settled behind her. “Draw your leg up,” he said, without waiting for her to respond. He tugged her thigh until she’d draped her leg up and over his as she had done when they’d been together in his bed.
                Hermione bit her lower lip, her body tensing as she felt his erection sliding along between her legs. “Relax,” his voice was still strained as he hissed against the back of her ear. “I wouldn’t do that here.” He reassured her. To say she was completely relieved would have been a lie. For while she feared the sting of un-lubricated anal sex, the thought of how well he filled her was thrilling. The memories of what it had been like that night in his bed made her muscles clench as she felt the head of his cock pressing at her slick folds once more.
                She had never had sex in a spooning position, save for the way he’d spooned her to take her anal virginity. The feel of his body pressed firmly against hers made her moan, though she tried to do so quietly. His shaft pressed into her, his hips now rotating a slow but deep rhythm and she choked back a groan of feral pleasure. The way the head of his cock brushed against her sensitive g-spot with every thrust made her writhe against him, her bum wriggling back as if trying to draw him forward into her further.
                The pelting drops of heated water seemed to shift then; going from blasting pressurized spray to a cooler and more moderate flow; almost like being under a tepid waterfall. She was covered suddenly in the milder water, groaning as she arched back against him. It was a peculiar blend of sensations; the water pouring down over her skin giving her goosepimples as it was quite a bit chillier than what she’d felt before, all while pleasure soared through her with every slam of his cock inside her quivering core.
                Hermione’s walls were beginning to quake; already she had found herself nearing the edge of delicious release when she felt him still inside of her. Wrenching her head back to gaze up the length of his jaw she whimpered in protest when one hand draped over ribs and began to massage her breasts. “Easy…” he growled against her ear.
                “Why did you stop?” she whined, trying to grind her hips back, desperate for him to start moving inside of her again.
                “You’ve practically pushed me back off the edge, you’re grinding so forcefully,” he said, fingers still tweaking and pinching at her nipples.
                If what he said was true she couldn’t actualize it let alone apologize for it as a particularly rough pinch against her pebbled flesh sent a jolt of searing pleasure straight to her clit. Hermione began to quake, one hand darting down between her thighs to rub furiously at the swollen bud. She came hard, jerking and shaking against him, feeling him tighten the grip of his arm around her ribs. The chilled water seemed that much colder as she began to unwind from her peak and now her body was shivering against him.
                “Move,” he said, pushing her over onto her stomach. With her frame still reeling from her orgasm it did not take much to fall forward onto her chest. Her limbs were wobbly but she felt his hands gripping her ass and pulling her rear up into the air. “Bend your knees a bit, Miss Granger,” his voice was once again pinched and she could feel his cock sliding through her folds, teasing her clit with the tip of his head. And again without warning he pushed into her; her lips parting to cry; a raw sound escaping her throat.
                What had been chilly on her back was once more searing; little drops of hot water, only thicker than water and melting into her skin. “Fuck…” she hissed, craning her neck up to the showerhead. It looked like red oil or perhaps some sort of lava dripping down at random slow intervals onto her flesh. Each droplet made her hiss but it set her body aflame; her core clenching against him every time a new spot settled onto her flesh. She wondered if he could feel it too; the way the heated water seemed to spread over her skin and then melt into her. “Oh…god…” she moaned, rolling her hips back to meet him as he continued to pump into her; a bit more steady of a rhythm than the one he’d used when they were on their sides.
                Hermione realized as her body was rising up off the soaked makeshift mattress that she was woefully inexperienced when it came to the various ways in which she could have sex. They’d been at it on the wet bed under the shower and already he’d had her in three different positions, two of which were new to her. His cock seemed relentless as he pumped into her backside, this new angle not allowing him in quite as deep but making up for it in the force he was able to pound her with. She trembled, feeling her body rock forward with each thrust; little flickers of pleasure dancing up and down her spine.
                A shrill squeak tore from her lips as an icy cold dot fell onto the back of her neck. Hermione’s head lifted up to gaze at the showerhead and for the life of her she swore it was snowing. “Fuck,” she hissed feeling tiny little flakes settling all over her skin. The heat beneath her from the previous fallen water and the natural warmth of his body behind her made the little flakes bare such a sharp contrast that each one made her twitch.
                “Come here,” his voice was a low growl, his hips slipping back from hers as her body convulsed. Several of the large chilly flakes landing all over her spine. Hermione was being rolled over onto her back before she could properly respond to him. And then she was being pulled up into his lap. He had crossed his legs and for a moment she warbled against him, but his hands situated against her hips and pulled her down onto his shaft and she groaned; head falling forward against his neck as she did. “Wrap your legs around my back,” he grunted, his voice even more terse than before. Hermione knew he had to be approaching some sort of breaking point. She complied; one of her heels digging into the soft flesh of his ass as he began to thrust upward into her. Her other leg rested atop her calf, crossed behind him and she threw her arms around his shoulders to keep from pitching them both backward.
                Severus had drawn his arms around her slight frame; holding her close as he continued to rock up into her. It was the most intimate position she had yet to experience with him; even more so than when they’d been pressed into the spooning position. She clung to him as if releasing him would topple them both over; but she could not longer feel as much of the strange snowy downfall from the showerhead, pulling so close to him. And the new angle at which he penetrated her was deep; hitting a spot far inside her core that made her whimper with every punctuating thrust. “Oh, oh, oh,” she whimpered and then forced her lips together, burying her nose against his neck. Their bodies were soaked; heated and slipping against one another from the downpour of the shower which was now melting against their skin.
                She was burning up inside; every thrust stoking the internal flame of her core and she was certain she was going to come with his name on her lips. Hermione forced her lips shut, feeling her walls clenching against his cock; and she heard him groan, slowing his pace just a bit. She whimpered in protest, digging the heel of her foot further into the supple flesh off his ass, as if begging him for more. A gush of heated water came rushing down over them both and in the shock of the temperature and consistency change she pitched forward; knocking Severus back into the bed. He growled, his cock slipping from her, landing pinched between their bodies.
                “I’m sorry…” she panted, chest heaving up and down as she laid splayed across his body; the deluge of hot water pouring down over them. It was almost like being caught under a very large heated hose, nothing at all like a shower yet not entirely unpleasant. She had been so close to finding her release and if his grunts and groans had been any indication so had he. But now he rested awkwardly beneath her; their bodies touching in various places, but he was no longer inside of her. The water stopped and Hermione suddenly felt very cold. “Is that it then?” she called to George, quickly scrambling up from Severus’ body, trying to find warmth.
                “Five different things, for one cycle, was it long enough? I can turn it back on if you like,” George offered.
                “That will not be necessary, Mr. Weasley.” Severus was now standing, wandlessly and wordlessly drying his body before sliding back into his robe, having moved out from the shower run. “It was more than sufficient to test whatever it was you were hoping to learn from it.”
                “Was it easier?” he asked, his eyes once again in the ledger, hand scrawling notes on its pages.
                “By comparison to simply fucking in a shower without the assistance of a surface?” Severus asked plainly. “I do not know that I would say easier, but it does provide a myriad of options in regards to positions. With a bed like surface there are limitless positions you can tangle into, and the overall effect of the ever-changing water from above wasn’t intolerable.”
                Hermione had found her robe, but had neglected to dry her hair and her curls were now dripping wet down the back of it, soaking the material through. She sighed and leaned her head over to the side of her body, gathering her hair in her hands and wringing it out. Trickles of water splattered to the floor and she swore her locks still smelled faintly of chocolate.
                “Hermione, how was the shifting water?” George asked.
                “The one that felt like snow was really startling, especially coming after that— was it oil? Or whatever it was, hot and melting into your skin turned suddenly cold and snowy I think my body felt like it was short circuiting.” She confessed with a blush. George frantically scribbled down her responses, and gestured to the box on the sink. “More?” she said incredulously, surprised at how she’d said it.
                “If you’re too tired we can call it a night,” he said and lifted his head from the ledger.
                “Miss Granger?” Severus asked her, arms crossed over his chest.
                She was still a bit put off at not having finished from their wildly intimate bouts of sex in the shower, but she supposed if they tested more products then she would be given a second chance to finish. She just wasn’t sure how much more her aching body could take. Nodding her head she moved over to the box. “I’m fine, maybe just a bit of a break first, George? I mean if that’s alright.”
                “Yeah, sure, why don’t you two go have a sit out in the living room. I’ll pop down to the workshop, I’ve got a few things I can tinker with. Unless you’re hungry? Are either of you hungry?”
                Food was the last thing on her mind. She shook her head. She was not surprised when Severus also declined the offer of sustenance; she’d rarely seen the man eat. Wishing she had slippers, Hermione shuffled toward the door and out into the little hallway. She planted herself into one of the armchairs and sighed, drawing her arms around her for warmth, still feeling a bit chilled.
                The blast of flames in the hearth in front of her startled her and she leaped to her feet. Severus was carefully tucking his wand into the pocket of the terrycloth robe, thinking nothing of having lit the fire in the grate. “Thank you,” she muttered, feeling foolish for being startled. She did feel instantly warmer and scooted the chair closer to the flames.
                He grunted something that could have been construed as a return of gratitude had he been someone other than Severus Snape. She watched from the corner of her eye as he shifted the other armchair close to the flame and then set his frame down into its cushion. For a long while they sat in silence, watching George disappear down into the workshop.
                But the silence nagged at Hermione and before long she found herself desperate for conversation. “How are you holding up?” she asked after a while longer, debating on what sort of question might actual garner a response from him. Clearly the one she had asked was not the one as he remained silent, staring into the flames. “You know I’d never been in any of those positions before,” she said.
                “It wouldn’t take an expert to know that, Miss Granger.”
                She should have been insulted, but at least he was talking. “I imagine there are others then?” she bit her lower lip, wondering if this would earn her a nasty lashing of his acerbic tongue.
                Severus scoffed. “A great many more,” he said with ease. “Most are just variations on a few basic designs, but the list is essentially endless, new adjustments and what have you.” She hung on his every word, rather fascinated at the way he spoke so casually on something that to her and a great many others was so taboo.
                “Will you teach me?” she was blurting out the question before she could help herself. The slender black eyebrow above his right eye was quirked high upon his forehead at her question and she immediately blushed and bowed her head. “Sorry,” she muttered. What on earth had she been thinking? There was a long silence that hung in the room after that and she wasn’t sure she should speak again, though she silently thanks the gods that had kept him from mocking her. The last thing she needed was Severus Snape teasing her about how she’d asked for lessons to further exploit her sexual inexperience. It was bad enough that she had gone to him for her first experience with oral sex, both giving and receiving. And for anal sex; though as it turned out she found that she enjoyed all three things immensely, anal penetration the most so far.
                The pops and crackles of the fireplace had warmed her skin and when she thought enough time had passed she lifted her head and slowly looked at him. “Do you think—”
                “Miss Granger,” he said with a sigh and then shook his head. “You talk too much.”
                She opened her mouth to protest but then closed her lips with a frown. In that instance she supposed he might be right, if she hadn’t been chattering away she might not have burst out with such a ridiculous question. But she wasn’t given any longer to dwell on the matter as George reappeared from the workshop.
                “All rested up? That was about a half,” he said and moved toward the bathroom. “I know there’s at least one more major thing I remember reading about that I’d like to get tested tonight, plus whatever else you’re both up to, I’m not in the least bit tired.” Hermione rose from the armchair and followed George back to the bathroom with Severus close behind her. “I read about them…if I can find them, and if they work, I think you’ll find them fascinating.” He said and began flipping through the ledger. “Hermione, look for a box that looks like it’s wrapped in chain link,” he said. “Or just chains in general.”
                Not at all liking the sound of what she was looking for, Hermione began to rummage around in the box. Sitting just beneath the frightful rubber duck was a small white box that was indeed painted to look as if it had been wrapped in linked chains. She hesitated as she pulled it out of the larger box, half tempted to tell George that she could find no such thing inside. But with a sigh she held up the box. “Here, I think,” she said and handed it to him.
                “Right,” he said with his telltale lopsided grin in place. “If these work…” he said lifting the little lid. “Oh well they look alright,” he said and from within drew out four round bracelets. They didn’t look much like chains; rather bubbles that were strung together, only made of some sort of wobbly plastic.
                “What are they supposed to do?” she asked.
                “Well, you put one on each arm, as high up as you can slide it, like a circlet from Greece, there are four so two for you and two for Severus,” he handed her the rings, and nodded at Severus. “And then if they work— they’ll keep you weighted underwater so that you can have sex underwater like a mermaid.”
                Hermione was once again floored by the words that had come out of his mouth. She supposed she might get a shot at another new position if nothing else, but the notion of having sex submerged underwater that was definitely something she was having difficulty wrapping her head around. At least the box hadn’t contained some sort of product that would restrain her in the water, as she had initially expected. She didn’t question the mermaid reference bit, not really wanting to think about a mermaid’s ability or lack thereof to have sexual intercourse.
                She turned to Severus and handed him two of the bubbles bands, slowly slipping her own up over either arm. They felt strange against her skin and once they were both in place she felt oddly out of sorts with herself. “I feel strange,” she said.
                “I imagine that’s the pressure charm,” George said. “You’ll feel more normal once you get in,” he gestured to the large tub that was in the center of the floor. It was only a few feet deep like the one from the Prefect’s Bathroom at Hogwarts, but it would be enough for total submersion.
                “Breathing?” she asked as she cautiously stepped toward the tub, sliding out of her robe.
                “Oh, um, hadn’t thought of that, just a bubblehead charm I guess?” he looked to Severus. “Unless you have another idea, Severus?”
                Severus shook his head. “I suppose a bubblehead charm will do.”
                While Hermione had no particular experience with the bubblehead charm she found that she trusted Severus when he mentioned it. Much like sex, she knew the basics and assumed it would be enough. Stepping over to the edge of the tub that was situated in the ground she waited for Severus to join. A few muttered words and she felt a rush of oxygen around her head. She had expected some sort of helmet to appear, but it appeared the bubble of the aptly named charm was not visible. “Is it in place?” she asked nervously.
                Severus nodded. “A modified version of the enchantment, makes seeing under the water easier,” he explained.
                She nodded her head in understanding and then sat down on the floor with her legs dangling over the water. The moment her foot touched the water’s surface she was inexplicably drawn into it, as if the water had a pull over her body, wanting to keep her under its surface. Hermione struggled for but a moment before she was pulled into the water completely and found herself fully submerged. At first she panicked, scrabbling upward toward the water’s surface, but then she remembered the bubblehead charm and found that she was breathing without issue. Severus had slipped into the water beside her and was now floating just beneath the surface, his dark locks looking like ominous seaweed as they drifted around his head.
                Hermione knew that talking in a bubblehead charm was impossible so she just nodded at him, shifting her body so that she was laying horizontally on her side beneath the water. The bands around her arm kept her balanced, like a floating weight halfway between the bottom of the tub and the top of the water’s surface. It was unlike anything she had ever felt, and she wondered for a moment how they would manage to have sex without anything against which to ground their bodies. If Severus had wondered the same thing she never would have known for his face looked impassive as always.
                His body drifted toward hers and both hands gripped her arms at the bend in her elbow. She could feel him tugging her downward, and their bodies sank together to the bottom of the tub. It reminded her more of a small swimming pool; much like the one at Hogwarts had. Hermione had never spent much time in the Prefect’s Bathroom, finding there was always duty to be done or studying to be had. His bony fingers pressed into her flesh, not unpleasant in the way that they gripped her, but she noted that he seemed to hold onto her with more of a force than he had used before. Blinking her eyes, with her own hair floating all around her head, she looked at his face and waited for him to guide her. He was floating, the bands around his arms keeping him close to the bottom of the tub while not letting him situate down against it.
                Hermione let her eyes roam over his figure; the way his slender frame seemed even thinner in the water, no black robes or even the terrycloth robe to help pad his figure. She had never thought of the man as frail; he was certainly strong enough to pull her about during the experiments, but his frame suggested the image of a man who could stand to eat more. Mentally she made a note to try and cook in his presence, with the hope that he would eat. But those thoughts drifted out of her mind as her eyes met the thatch of curls that still vaguely resembled a lightning bolt, covering the top of his pubic mound. It made her blush thinking back to that very first day of testing, the way he had so casually touched her and bowed his head to taste her nipple, stroking his fingers through what had once been her very natural pubic curls.
                She needed to ask George about how long that serum was meant to leave her softly smooth. While she was getting used to it, she wasn’t sure that she was overly fond of being as smooth as she was when she was a little girl, it just didn’t feel natural. Again her thoughts were interrupted as his hand cupped her cheek and turned her head up to look at him. Hermione felt weak under his intense gaze; those delicious dark eyes boring into her, though his face was not stern nor reprimanding. She bit her lower lip only to have the fingers that were against her cheek pluck the plump petal from her teeth. She blushed again. It was a diehard old habit that he seemed to disprove of, as he pinched her lip slightly between the pads of his fingers.
                Hermione brought both hands forward and clutched his shoulders, bringing their bodies quite close together, her nipples which had stiffened into taut little buds, pressing into his chest. Severus’s hands reached forward and brushed the mass of her hair back away from her face and she tensed slightly at his touch. Not because it felt unpleasant but because it thrilled her. His hands were rough, not uncomfortable, but hardly smooth and dainty like her own. She imagined that years of teaching Potions, and doing Merlin only knew what else, had made them that way, and every time they graced her skin she shivered. He looked displeased then, his eyes tracing her features as the curls he had brushed away from her face came drifting back around her head, flowing forward.
                It made her giggle, though she tried to check her smile; knowing that while all her life her hair had been a point of annoyance for her, it was mildly amusing to now see it be an annoyance to him. Her body was floating just a bit higher than his, moving toward the surface and she gripped his shoulders that much harder to keep from drifting away from him. She moved one hand onto his chest, leaning her head forward, her cheek brushing against his. The firm arm that wrapped around her back made her gasp, a string of bubbles escaping her mouth and surrounding them.
                Being weightless and under the water, free flowing and floating was something she found she rather enjoyed, all the more because it was forcing him to be quite physically close to her, making him touch her a great deal more than she had anticipated. His hands had slithered down her back and were now cupping her ass and she groaned, though no sound left her lips, only more bubbles. He was pulling her forward and her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, her heels locking over one another against the small of his back. Her arms clutched around his neck and her fingers threaded into the floating tendrils of his hair. His eyes met hers and glared for a moment but she did not pull her hands away.
                If he was unsettled by her touch he made no move to say so, still holding her firmly aloft against him as he moved one hand between their bodies, stroking his cock. It amazed her how quickly he had become erect, though she realized that he had not finished in their previous encounter. And then she felt the head of his cock pressing at her entrance, a peculiar sensation as he pushed his way up into her. It wasn’t painful but the natural lubrication that her body provided seemed depleted by the water. Once he began to thrust his hips, however, all thoughts whisked out of her head and she groaned, bubbles swirling around their head. He felt tight inside of her, his cock pulsing upward at a strange angle as his knees sank down and rested on the bottom of the tub.
                Hermione tightened her grip in his hair, her head falling forward as he began to buck up into her; their bodies drifting upward. It made his rhythm uneven; awkward brutal thrusts jerking her body this way and that. She clung to him that much tighter, digging her heels into his back to try and gain purchase. She cried out, a storm of bubbles raining upward to the surface of the water as he pulled his hands against her ass and rammed her forward on his cock. He was penetrating her more deeply than she’d ever felt, her body feeling as if she were on fire despite being submerged in water.
                Her head curled forward and she was panting against his neck, bubbles floating everywhere as he continued to piston his shaft into her core. Their bodies continued to drift, each thrust of his hips sending her further away from him, with his hands gripping her tightly to bring him back. Hair was floating everywhere; his black locks tangling with her chestnut frizz, looking wild in the water, though her eyes hardly had a chance to notice. She couldn’t help herself as she began to nuzzle his neck, needing to feel more, needing to cling to him. Her lips trailed against his flesh, feeling the heat of his pulse as she roved her mouth upward and then across his jaw.
                One hand remained firmly gripping her ass while the other reached up to push the mass of her hair back. Her own fingers were still tangled in his locks near the base of his neck, her nails digging up and down into his scalp. And then she pressed her lips against his; feeling a rush of air between them as she kissed him. Their bodies were rolling together, his hips bucking and banging against hers as she slipped her tongue forward into his mouth. A shock of pleasure tore through her body as he yanked her hair back, tugging a bit harder than was probably necessary; but Hermione moaned into his mouth all the same. The taste of his tongue against hers made her tremble and her walls clenched against his shaft as he thrust into her again and again, his erratic rhythm growing faster.
                He hadn’t pulled away from the kiss, his hands now both gripping the flesh of her ass so tightly she knew she’d have bruises but she didn’t care. Hermione felt dizzy; deliciously lightheaded as pulse after pulse of pleasure surged through her; their lips still joined, her tongue teasing his in circles. The water around them seemed to feed the energy of his churning hips, his balls pressing up against her underside as he began hard fast strokes, still hitting deep within her.
                Her body began to tremble; quaking almost violently beneath the water as she clung to him. She ripped her lips back from him, eyes rolling back into her head as she felt herself tip over the edge and erupt into an orgasm that tore through her. Wild hair floated all around her and she shook hard against him, nails digging into the back of his neck, her heels drumming against the base of his spine as she came. Severus’s body was jerking slightly as his own release came over him; his hands gripping her so hard that his knuckles were white.
                She collapsed against him, which sent them both sinking hard to the bottom of the tub, her lungs stinging with the unusual sensation of being under the water. Hermione closed her eyes, her head buried in the crook of his neck and then suddenly she was surging upward. She hadn’t noticed that he’d ripped the bubble bands from around her arms, but she broke the surface of the water with a gasp, thrashing about for a moment before his strong arms were around her waist, thrusting her upward onto the edge of the tub. Her ass was stinging, her cunt was throbbing and her whole body was soaked, her legs still trembling. Hermione laid back, trying to catch her breath, gazing up at the ceiling of George’s bathroom, listening to the splash of water as Severus hoisted himself out of the tub. She was panting, eyes falling closed, body still twitching lightly when he pulled her upright, turning her head left and right, before holding her by the chin and gazing hard into her eyes.
                “That was foolish, Miss Granger,” he admonished her.
                Hermione’s eyes opened wide to gaze at him. “What are you—”
                “Kissing in a bubblehead charm reduces the oxygen much more quickly,” he said with a pinch in his voice.
                She hadn’t even thought about the bubblehead charm. In the moment she had simply wanted to kiss him. And hadn’t he kissed her back? Or at the very least not pushed her away? It burned her up to hear him chastising her, but she was determined not to lose her temper with him. Drawing in several calming breaths she turned her head away from him and muttered, “Caught up in a moment, I suppose.”
                George, who had no doubt been filling the ledger with everything he could observe from above, was now standing behind them. “You two both alright? It looked like once you got the hang of things it went brilliantly.”
                “Sex is sex, Mr. Weasley, but if you are asking whether or not the bands kept us buoyant but weighted, the answer is yes.” He was on his feet, drying himself and pulling his robe around him before George could ask any further questions.
                “Great,” the redhead beamed. “If you two have had it for the night, I mean it’s nearly midnight if you’d like to go, I’ll understand, we can always sort out the rest of that box tomorrow, or take a break from the bathtub stuff if you like, there’s still heaps of other stuff downstairs that needs to be looked over.”
                “Indeed,” Severus said. He turned to Hermione and without preamble, leaned over and hauled her to her feet, holding her upright to keep her from pitching forward into his chest. He leaned close to her, his lips near her ear. “You’re going to want to clean up,” he muttered.
                Hermione had no idea what he was talking about and frowned. She disregarded the comment and used her wand to dry herself, opting instead to change into her clothes. If they were done then they were done for the evening. It was chilly and she wanted the extra warmth. Taking to a corner she slipped into her bra and shirt and began to pull on her knickers. But as she pulled them up the tiniest droplet of pink splattered into the crotch of her panties and she groaned. She had known it was coming, and then it dawned on her that Severus had been referring to her menstrual flow with his subtly whispered comment. Her cheeks flushed a furious shade of pink before she began to wonder how he had known. Had she bled on him during their encounters? Why hadn’t she seen it? It would have to wait until they returned to Spinner’s End, as George was very unlikely to have any sort of feminine products lying around.
                With a hasty goodnight, she collected her satchel of Galleons and did not wait for Severus before dashing down the stairs out into the street and disapparating. She was grateful to have arrived before he did taking a few minutes in the bathroom to right herself. It was mortifying to think that he had somehow noticed her period before she did. And then she wondered if George had noticed it too and had just been too polite to say anything. It made her sick to her stomach to think on it; adding to it the fact that she would have to tell George the next day that she would be mostly out of commission for product testing.
                Hermione desperately wanted ice cream. She always did when she was hormonal. After she’d taken care of cleaning herself up and getting settled, she’d peaked into Severus’s freezer, disappointed that there wasn’t even so much as a pint of sorbet. He was home, she’d heard him come in when she’d still been in the bathroom. A part of her wanted to apologize; though for what she wasn’t sure, and another part of her desperately wanted to demand he go out and find her some chocolate ice cream. Though she knew the likelihood of him acquiescing her request was virtually non-existent. After having paced about in the kitchen debating on what to do, she sighed and was resolved to go and at least ask him where she could go at this hour to find a pint of chocolate ice cream.
                Moving back up the hall she paused just outside of the bathroom door, seeing it ajar. She made to move quickly past, not wanting to disturb him while he was inside, but the sight she saw through the crack in the door gave her pause. Severus at the best of times was an enigmatic creature; but seeing him standing before the sink basin, reflected in the mirror above it, with a razor in hand and foam upon his face floored her. Logically she supposed the man shaved, but it had never occurred to her that the man actually took a razor and lather to his face. She was staring, her mouth slightly agape; unable to wrench her eyes from the sight before her. Naturally, every stroke of the blade was meticulous, leaving not one trace of stubble or foam in its wake, each tug of the razor across his skin slow and deliberate. It was fascinating; such a simple daily routine action, now in the hands of Severus Snape, and she found herself rooted to the spot, eyes affixed on his reflection as he shaved.
                “If you’re going to stand there and gape, perhaps you’d care to open the door to better your vantage point, Miss Granger.” His words were dry; the scintillating sarcasm he was known for. Though she noted that he never took his eyes off his own reflection, carefully stroking the blade up under his chin until every last inch of foam had been cleared from his face. “What do you want, Granger?” he asked, delicately dabbing a wash cloth against his face before turning around and pulling the bathroom door open.
                He towered over her in the doorway, eyes gazing down and immediately she felt her face flush fully. “I…” she trailed off and then cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, I just— I’ve never…well it never occurred to me that you would shave,” she said realizing exactly how foolish she sounded the moment she said it.
                Severus crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes. “And you just assumed that I maintain my looks with magic?”
                Hermione gave thought to his words, pausing before speaking. “Well, I suppose not, it would stand to reason that naturally you shave since your face is always smooth.”
                “Brilliant observation,” he muttered and brushed by her, moving back toward the kitchen.
                She followed him down the small hallway, taking a seat at the table as he began to rummage through the cabinets after putting the kettle on. “Only— I suppose I never figured you shaved because I’ve never seen so much as a five o’clock shadow upon your face, let alone a trace of stubble…most men who look as clean shaven as you do generally don’t grow facial hair—” she paused, noting the way he continued about in the kitchen, gathering two mugs and setting strainers atop them for tea. “It just looks too perfect for shaving is all, so seeing you just surprised me.”
                Severus sighed. “You are a prattling nuisance, Miss Granger.” He muttered and then set the mug down in front of her. “It isn’t chocolate or whatever it is you females tend to pine for whilst menstruating, however, I believe you will find that it will help alleviate cramping and ill-placed tempers.” Hermione was taken aback. He was making her tea to deal with her period. That simply floored her, and again the notion of her shock must have registered clearly on her face. “Don’t look so flabbergasted, this is a kindness for myself more than for you, I do not wish to have a raging hormonal woman turning the house upside down because of her menses.”
                She would have been insulted had she not realized that it was the politest way possible for him to explain that he didn’t want her to suffer. Even if he had made it sound like he was doing it solely for his own benefit. This made her smile, though she was careful to do so only once he had turned his back to her. When he poured the boiling water over the strainer and into her mug she inhaled deeply, noting that he poured his own cup. It did smell relaxing; some queer blend of herbs that immediately eased her body. It did not, however, ease her mind from its questions. “How do you manage to look so perfectly smooth?” She asked. Hermione was bold in that moment, standing from the table while her tea steeped, moving over to where he leaned against the counter.
                Hermione stood in front of him and with slightly trembling fingers reached up to touch his jaw. He flinched but did not pull back from her when she let her fingers trail down the length of his face, down under his chin and up over her cheek. His eyes stayed on her face until she lifted her fingers from his skin, letting her hand rest at her side, though she did not step back from him.
                “I suppose telling you not to be so familiar with me at this point would sound absurd,” he rolled his eyes and stepped away from the counter, pulling the strainers back from both mugs of tea. With a wave of his hand they vanished. Severus picked up both mugs, handing one to her before taking his place leaning back against the counter. He sipped from the mug of steaming herbal tea and then set it down on the counter, eyes once more meeting hers. She was close to him, but not on top of him as she had been when she dared to touch his cheek. He studied her for a moment, his lips curling into the faintest of smirks. “It is the mark of a well kept man,” he said, tilting his jaw firmly upward.
                “It just seems a little too perfect is all,” she said, the heat from the mug warming her hands.
                “Ever the nit-picking observant one,” he muttered. When she did not relent with her gaze he sighed. “If you must know, Queen Curious, I use a glamour.”
                Whatever she’d been expecting him to say, it wasn’t his sudden confession. It threw her, but only momentarily. Her immediate response was to ask why but she checked her tongue; if he had wanted to tell her why he would have told her so, she needed to be grateful for what she had learned from him in that moment. Nodding her head she sipped from the mug and tried not to sigh aloud. It was heaven in a cup; some sort of strange herbal liquid that she couldn’t quite put a finger on, but it slid down her throat with all the ease of honey and lavender without the cloying sweetness, and all the refreshing exuberance of mint without the potent sting.
                “What else do you glamour?” she asked, wondering if her curiosity would earn her a reprimand.
                Severus scoffed, again rolling his eyes as he slowly drank from the mug. “As if it’s any of your business,” he said. Hermione’s curious eyes began to roam his body, but one hand quickly tugged her chin up to meet his gaze. “Don’t ask questions that you don’t want answers to,” he said, releasing her chin and stepping away from her.
                “But I do want the answers, that’s why I ask,” she said, taking a step toward him. They were standing side by side, him still back against the counter, her close enough to touch him, but she refrained for the moment.
                “You are far too curious for your own good,” he said after a long moment of intensely holding her gaze. “I suppose if the tables were turned you would find yourself free in the tongue to answer anything that was asked of you?”
                Hermione shrugged her shoulders and sipped her mug. “I have nothing to hide, certainly not with a glamour, so sure, why not.” Severus snorted, a soft dark chuckle escaping his lips. “What?”
                “Do you amuse yourself by lying to me?”
                “I beg your pardon?” she asked, her temper flaring just a bit as she felt her cheeks go red.
                Hermione’s breath hitched in her throat as she watched him place his mug on the counter, taking a step toward her. Their bodies were now but inches apart and she felt the little hairs at the back of her neck standing on end as he leaned in to her, his lips hovering just at her ear. The hand that cupped her backside made her squeak and again he chuckled darkly. “I suppose hiding that little rosy tattoo with a glamour doesn’t count?” he asked.
                “I don’t know what you’re—”
                “Which would be all well and fine,” he said, lifting his head and stepping back from her. Severus crossed his arms over his chest, looking smug. “Had you not been so nervous the night you came into my room that you forgot to cover it up,” he said. His hand reached out, drawing their bodies close once more. “Just here…” his hand hovered over the low swell of her right arse cheek. “A rose, or a flower very similar, with red and purple petals.”
                Hermione flushed. It occurred to her then that she had forgotten to cast a glamour over the miniscule tattoo. It was no bigger than her thumb, an embarrassing blemish that she had kept hidden when they worked in the workshop. But that night she had been nervous, and hadn’t given a second thought to the fact that he might have seen it while resting behind her, stroking her ass to calm and prepare her. “Why didn’t you say something that night then?” she huffed.
                Severus chuckled again. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Miss Granger.” His patronizing tone only served to infuriate her all the more, but he spoke before she could bark at him. “Having never seen it while in the workshop, it made perfect sense that you were intent on hiding it, and it wouldn’t have made you any more at ease to bring it up that night. And since you’ve not shown it since, and I do not possess the insatiable curiosity that you do, nor do I insist on insinuating myself into your private life the way you have mine…”
                His words made her bow her head, her cheeks flushed. She hadn’t meant to be intrusive with his life, she was only trying to get to know him. But in that moment she was still stinging with the embarrassment of being called out on her lie and on her tattoo. “It’s just a tattoo—”
                “One that must have quite the story if you feel the need to hide it.” He remarked and then drained the remains of his tea.
                The proverbial light bulb clicked over her head. “I suppose that’s the other thing you glamour then,” she said, stepping toward him, her mug now empty. She placed it on the counter beside his empty mug and was standing in front of him, their bodies not quite touching. “Your…tattoo,” she whispered, eyes immediately falling to his left arm. “The tattoo that has quite the story, so you hide it.”
                She’d expected anger. She’d expected him to bark at her, to push her back and to tell her it was none of her business. Even though it had been everyone’s business when the war had happened. When he remained upright, eyes just searching hers she felt a knot tighten in her stomach, and wondered if perhaps she had tread too far into dangerous territory. Severus’ hand tugged at the sleeve of his shirt, rolling it up to his elbow. Muttering under his breath, Hermione watched in awe as the flesh on his forearm shimmered and revealed the faded, but still clearly recognizable dark mark.
                Tremulous fingers reached forward, but his voice cut her short. “Don’t.” he said. Though it wasn’t harsh. He hadn’t hollered or commanded, just a simple word.
                “You’ve touched mine,” she whispered and then gently let her fingertips brush over the faded ink.
                “Are you certain of that?” he asked, the muscles in his forearm tensing at her touch.
                “Your hands were all over my ass that night, and several times since, so yes, I’m certain,” she said, not lifting her eyes from the mark. It meant so many things, and she knew why he hid it. But seeing it up close; for the very first time since she was a little school girl fighting a war between grownups, it was breath taking in a frightening sort of way. She knew that the man standing before her, with held breath and tensed muscles, was not the same man that had taken the mark so many decades before. Her fingertips traced lightly over the outline of the ink, following its intricate pattern around until she’d touched every inch of it. Only when her palm rested over the mark, covering it from sight did he place his hand atop hers.
                “That’s enough,” he said, and lifted her hand from his. Severus pulled his sleeve down, the mark and his arm hidden once more. “You need to learn not to be so—”
                “So what, Severus?” she asked, cutting him off. She was leaning forward into him, their bodies touching, though layers of clothes kept flesh from flesh. “So bold? So curious?” Her eyes were twinkling as she leaned up toward him. Hermione’s lips hovered over his for a moment and she teetered precariously on the tips of her toes.
                “Go to your room, Miss Granger,” he said, one hand gently pushing her back. He nodded to a tin canister on the counter near the sink as he brushed by her and stepped over to the table. “Two spoons in each strainer per one cup, let it steep three minutes,” he said and without another word he swept down the hall, disappeared into his bedroom with the door closing behind him.
                Hermione was left standing in the kitchen, butterflies tearing up her stomach, her body throbbing and on fire. She couldn’t wrap her head around what had just happened, but it certainly made the prospect of living with the man that much more complicated.

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