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Getting Personal	By : OracleObscured Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 38186 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters/things/places created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money from my fan-fiction.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
A/N: Well, this chapter turned out a lot longer than intended. And I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes or awkward bits. I got inspired to up my game after reading Desert Sea's The Quickening a few days ago, and decided I needed to overhaul some sections. I was still re-writing this last night, so I haven't re-read the whole thing five or six times like I usually do. I'll come back and clean it up later.

Things start moving quickly in this chapter. Life isn't all orgiastic weekends for these two. It’s time for them to see what the other is made of. Next week’s chapter will be up on Christmas Eve. I wanted you all to share the holidays with our favorite couple.

And now on with the show.
Trelweny: Thank you for reading (and reviewing). You've hit upon the crux of the story. I won't say too much and give anything away, but sometimes people stand in their own way. Fear of rejection can be an insurmountable hurdle in some relationships.
FieryPhoenix: You have to get in line. I'm first. Thank you for the review and compliments. I don't want to say too much about what's to come, but I hope you enjoy it.
DesertSea: You are far too kind (and possibly drunk). Honestly, I think my stories are just decent (not bad but not great). I hope to keep people entertained; but your mastery of language has me drooling with awe. Inspired and daunted is exactly how I felt after reading your story. It made me want to be a better writer, but at the same time I was thinking "fuck, I’m never going to be able to write like that." I know what you mean about reviews coming at the right time and being the pick-up you need to make it through another day. I spend an insane amount of time writing, re-writing, editing (and editing my editing). I love it, but it wears me down. When you’ve re-read a chapter ten times in a row, it starts to grate on your sanity. Reviews are the truck-stop caffeine pills that keep me going. You'd better believe I’ll be reviewing every chapter you post from now on. I’m so excited.

10 — I Come From a Land Down Under
Severus watched the last of the students file out of the Great Hall. The train would be gone in less than an hour, taking with it the children who were slowly eating away his soul. The freedom coursing through his veins bordered on giddiness. Getting through that last batch of tests before the holidays was a nightmare. The students always checked out early, and he had to become an unforgiving bastard just to keep them on task.
Minerva was at the front doors, wishing everyone a happy holiday as they left; but she abandoned her post when she saw him trying to sneak down to the dungeons undetected. "Severus, you're not going to hide in your room the entire holiday, are you?"
He sighed and glanced longingly at the dungeon door. "Not the entire time, no."
"There are eight students staying behind; only one from Slytherin. We shouldn't have too much trouble keeping an eye on them."
I couldn't care less. "I'm leaving for few days."
“You are?" She studied him shrewdly over the top of her spectacles. “When will you return?”
"I should be back before Christmas."
"Where are you going?"
He gave her a look that said it was none of her business and kept his mouth shut.
"I'm not trying to pry," she said softly.
"I am accompanying someone out of the country."
"The same someone you've been seeing every weekend?"
He said nothing. She seemed to find his silence answer enough.
"Very well," McGonagall sighed. "I'll look after Miss Brunne. There's nothing sadder than a Slytherin all alone on Christmas."
Severus knew she was commenting on his own life.
"The staff will be disappointed if you don’t attend the Christmas party."
He snorted.
"It's true," she assured him. "Who else complains about the eggnog not being brewed properly then proceeds to consume the entire bowl by himself? Your drunken dancing is the highlight of every party."
Snape glared at her.
"I'm sure Pomona's forgiven for you dropping her during that dip last year."
He gritted his teeth. “You’ll have to find a new party game to entertain yourselves.” You drop one witch and they never let you forget about it.
Minerva was so curious as to what kind of witch had caught their sullen Potions master in her web. Was she a black widow with a bite as venomous as Snape’s, or had he found some innocent chit who didn’t know that sex wasn't supposed to be snarky?
"Have you gotten your new friend a nice present yet?" she asked, smiling innocently.
He'd seen that same knowing smile on Dumbledore's face a hundred times. Bloody busybodies. "No. I'd better get to Diagon Alley before the weather worsens. If you'll excuse me," he growled, turning his back on her puckered smirk and stalking away before she could respond.

__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Hermione hefted her strap over her shoulder to make sure her bag was secure. They were traveling light. Snape only had his black valise.
The night was cold and clear, but the clean air did nothing to settle her nerves. She always felt the same before setting out for Australia: excited and a little sick. While she found it soothing to have Snape holding her hand, it didn’t quell the rolling nausea in the pit of her stomach. She desperately wanted to see her parents, but it was heartbreaking to be treated like a stranger. There was a little voice in her head telling her to just forget it and run back to the safety of her bed. Snape would keep her warm. No. She shook her head. Don't assume the worst. Maybe this trip will be different.
They arrived in the alley, and she looked up at him. “Ready to go?”
“Are you?” Snape countered. She looked as if she was coming down with something. He ran his hand over the side of her face, checking her temperature.
Hermione nodded. “I’m okay. I’m just nervous.”
He kissed her forehead and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m ready when you are. Don’t splinch me.” He hadn’t let anyone Apparate him in years. The trust it required turned his stomach. But she was a careful witch; he should make it in one piece.
“I won’t splinch you,” she said with a small smile. “Hold tight. Here goes.” With a whip of her wand, they disappeared in a whirl of black wool.
Snape's ears popped as he emerged in the new environment, and he dropped his jaw to equalize the pressure. Releasing her, he discreetly felt his body to make sure all his parts had arrived with him.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’re still in one piece, Severus. I have Apparated before, you know?"
“Just double-checking.”
He looked around, blinking at the sudden appearance of the sun. They had materialized in a small desolate grove. The trees towered over them like silent sentinels. “Where are we exactly?”
Hermione took off her cloak and tucked it under her arm. “We’re just outside Castle Hill. It’s a wizarding town in Sydney.”
Snape removed his cloak as well. He was boiling. She took his hand, and they started down the well-worn path.
They wound through the trees, and Severus could make out the stark lines of a village as they approached civilization. They came out behind a slouchy brick building, and she led him around front, out into the busy street. It reminded him of Diagon Alley, but the buildings didn’t look as old, and it wasn’t as squashed and overcrowded. There were witches and wizards milling about in summer clothes, talking and laughing as they finished their last-minute shopping.
Hermione and Severus drew a few stares as they made their way through the streets. He was unsure if that was due to their age difference or their inappropriate attire. They stayed along the border of the town, gradually leaving behind the bustling business sector and crossing into an older area where the shops were detached and suffering from the symptoms of old age. They turned into a little square that was more quaint village than city center. The buildings had a Tudor appearance, dark wood framing the corners and sills. Despite the ravages of time, there was no sense of abandonment or dereliction. It had a close-knit, friendly feel that suggested neighbors and strangers alike were welcome at any doorstep.
She took him to a little inn at the end of the cul-de-sac. Its white stone walls were greying and dingy, but there were cheerful flowers growing in the window boxes and a grey-striped cat lounging in the sun like a purring welcome mat. They stepped over the cat and went inside.
The lower level seemed to be all pub. The walls were dark wood, making him feel as if he had stepped inside a cherry-paneled cave. A grey-haired woman was polishing a glass behind the bar, and she looked up when the bell above the door tinkled. A smile spread over her face. “Miss Wilkins! So good to see you again. I just finished getting your room ready.”
Hermione smiled at the woman. “Thanks, Gretchen. It's good to see you too. Is the key still on the peg?”
Gretchen looked Snape up and down, amusement twitching at the corners of her mouth. “Just where it always is. Who’s your friend?”
Hermione led him over to the bar. “This is—“
“Niccolò Prince,” he cut in. If she was going to use an alias, it would be safer if he did too. Snape held out his hand to the woman, and she set down her towel to shake it. “But everyone calls me Nick,” he lied smoothly.
Gretchen smiled, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Will you be sharing, or should I go make up the bed in 202?”
Hermione shook her head. “We’re sharing. And don’t worry, we’ll be out of your hair by Christmas Eve.”
Gretchen laughed. “Out of my hair? You know Bartholomew and I love having you. You’re our favorite guest; no one else leaves the room cleaner than when they arrived.”
Hermione grinned and pulled Snape towards the staircase. “Thanks, Gretchen. We’ll go unpack and then head out. Don’t bother saving us anything for dinner. We’ll go into the city.”
“All right, dear. Have fun,” Gretchen called after her. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Prince.”
He nodded a farewell as Hermione dragged him around the corner. She plucked a key from a nail on the wall, and they climbed the narrow, creaking staircase to the second floor. When they got to the top, Snape looked around at the three doors surrounding the little hall. She opened the second one and went in.
The room was a small garret—simple but homey. The walls were white and dimming with age, but there was a faded flower pattern painted along the top border. An old, squat dresser sat against one wall, and the brass bed sat across from it. The patchwork quilt covering the bed was the only real color in the room; everything else was plain and worn. "How did you find this place?"
"When I first started coming to Castle Hill, I stayed at the big hotel; but one night I was wandering around and stumbled over that cat outside. Gretchen’s husband, Bartholomew, came out to help me, and I wound up falling asleep in front of their fire. I've stayed here ever since. I prefer the quiet. Plus I like Gretchen and Bart. They're the kind of people who would help me if I was in trouble.”
Hermione set her bag on the dresser and opened it up to find something more comfortable to wear. She pulled out a navy blue sundress and started to take off her clothes to change.
Snape looked over, his brows perking toward his hairline as she stripped down to her bra and knickers. “What are you doing?”
“Changing. It’s nice outside. I want to enjoy it.”
“I suppose frock coats are a bit out of place now,” he muttered, running his hands over his chest.
“Aren’t you burning up?”
He nodded and started to undo his buttons. “I only have one white shirt. Do you think it’ll be cool enough?”
She looked back at him. “Is it long-sleeved?”
“It’s a normal dress shirt.”
“Just roll up the sleeves . . . and cast a cooling charm on it.”
Severus used his wand to unbutton everything then dug his white shirt out of his bag. Thank Merlin I wore cotton trousers instead of wool. He watched Hermione dashing about the room in her underwear, getting herself ready to go out. She seemed to be in a hurry. He didn’t know if she was just nervous about seeing her parents or if she was starting to panic. He slipped on his white shirt and rolled up his sleeves, leaving the buttons undone until he cooled off.
Catching her arm as she passed, Severus steered her in a wide circle so she faced him. She stared into his eyes questioningly, and he rested his hand over her heart to feel its speed. Too fast. Drawing his fingertips across her collarbone, he let his hand trail over the soft hills of her breasts. “Just give me a second here.”
Hermione smiled as his fingers tickled her skin. Her racing thoughts downshifted to a lower gear. “Are you going to pet me all day?”
“Just a touch for now. When we get back to the room later, I’ll get a taste of you too.”
She couldn’t stop grinning at the mental image. “That sound nice. You know, you look good in white.” Her hand went inside his shirt to stroke his bare chest. “You should wear it all the time.”
“And abandon my signature color?” he asked in mock horror.
“MmHm,” she hummed with a nod. “You should abandon buttons too. I like you like this.”
Her stroking strayed south to his waistband, and she grazed his placket with her palm. Snape grinned at her sneaky groping. “Don’t you dare. I have no desire to wander around Sydney with my cock loaded and ready.”
She snorted into his chest. “But you’ll be so popular.”
He shook his head, pulling her hand from his crotch to kiss her fingers. “Popularity is overrated. I prefer intimate affairs. Besides, that particular package is just for you.”
“Put a bow on it and you don’t have to get me anything else for Christmas.”
He smirked. “You should have told me that before I went shopping the other day.”
Her eyes brightened. “You bought me a present?”
“Of course I did.” He leaned down and nuzzled her ear, giving her bum a squeeze. “Good girls get the best presents.”
Hermione shivered as he kissed her ear. “You coming here with me was the best present.”
“Really? Because I happen to think you running about in your skivvies is the gift that keeps giving.”
She kissed his neck. “I’m glad you like it, but I seriously meant that. I’m really glad you’re here.”
He didn’t know what to say in response, so he just wrapped his arms around her. “I told you I would help you in whatever way I could.”
“You are,” she whispered, kissing his shoulder and then resting her cheek against it.
That itching in his chest was back. His heart was starting to leak again. And if she kept breathing on his neck like that, he was going to be touring Australia with his dick jabbing him in the gut. He kissed her cheek and slid his other hand down to her arse. “Don’t wear any knickers today. I like to think about your naked little fanny just out of sight under that skirt.”
Hermione grinned. “It is awfully warm out. I guess I could do with one less layer.”
He nudged the back of her knickers lower and tickled the top of her crack. “Tis the season.”

__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Hermione took him into muggle Sydney and pointed out the places she’d visited before. Severus held her hand and listened attentively, but he was really watching her body language. She was putting on a show. Her words said, “look how happy I am to be here,” but her posture said, “I’m going to be sick.” He was worried about her. This trip wasn’t exactly a holiday, but he had hoped seeing her parents would be a bittersweet moment that left her more healed than hurt. That didn't seem likely. At the rate she was going, she would collapse before they set eyes on the Grangers. She was getting more tense by the minute.
They wandered into a small, posh outdoor shopping center that surrounded a brick courtyard. There was a fountain at the other end and colorful beds of flowers blocking the center aisle. She took him to one of the wooden benches interspersing the median and pulled him down next to her. They sat with the fountain far off to their right, and Snape glanced around at the shoppers (unable to break the habit of checking his surroundings and noting all possible exits and threats).
“That’s their office,” she said softly.
He looked in the direction she nodded and noticed one of the plate glass windows had a large toothy smile painted above the words “Monica & Wendell Wilkins, Family Dentistry.” Snape put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to his side. “Have you ever gone in?”
She nodded without looking away from the storefront. "They've cleaned my teeth twice.”
He heard the quiver in her voice. Reaching over, he held her hand in his. “Would you like to go in now?”
Hermione shook her head. “No. It’s too hard. I usually just sit here and wait for them to come out. They should be leaving in just a little while.”
He kissed her head, brushing away the rebellious curls that tried to shoot up his nose. “All right.”
Severus watched the building with her, the shadows shifting on the walk as the afternoon wore on. Not too many people were going to the dentist just before Christmas, but he saw one family with a little girl leaving the office as a gawky teenager with a swollen jaw went in. The little girl danced about the walkway, grinning broadly and asking every passing stranger if they had any cavities. Apparently she didn’t and wanted to make sure everybody knew it. Her parents held her hands and smiled apologetically at the passing people.
The family made their way down the walkway, stopping to swing the little girl between them like a squealing monkey. Snape was glad when they left. He didn’t want to see any children when he wasn’t on the clock.
Hermione smiled up at him. “I don’t have any cavities either.”
He smirked. “Maybe you should run after your soulmate there and have a chat about the wonders of flossing.”
She kept smiling and went back to her store-spying. “I just thought I’d mention it. I wanted you to know what a good girl I am.”
He chuckled under his breath and stroked the back of her neck. “Duly noted. Did you want to bend over my lap right now so I can reward you properly?”
A blush crept up her face, and Hermione shook her head. “I’ll wait till later.”
Severus was relieved to see her smiling. Maybe she was loosening up a little now that her parents were so close. He studied the storefront for a bit and wondered what the Grangers were really like. The photos on her wall painted a pretty picture, but he didn’t know if they were honest representations or not. Posing was expected in photographs. Maybe they weren’t as happy as they appeared. They'd raised an interesting daughter, which was a plus in their favor; and they must be fairly intelligent to have a child so devoted to education. Dentistry wasn't a profession he knew much about, but he couldn't imagine what kind of people woke up one day and decided they wanted to spend the rest of their lives sticking their hands in other peoples' mouths.
The shops in the square were busy; there was no shortage of shoppers to watch. Severus listened to clips of banal chitchat as they passed. Holiday plans. Who would be at the party later. What to buy for Uncle Bob. The world as a whole bored him to tears, but he’d stay there with her until midnight if that was what she wanted. Sitting with her was pleasant under any circumstances.
Anytime he got sick of the parade of pinheads, he just went back to watching her. Her eyes stayed locked on the office, but she stroked the back of his thumb with hers; so he knew she was still aware of his presence. She looked quite pretty in her sundress, and Severus let his thoughts wander to what was under it. Or rather what wasn’t under it. Her knickers were back in the room, sitting on top of her bag. He’d taken them off her himself, making her hold up her dress while he pulled them down. That had brought a nice blush to her cheeks and a smile to her lips. Her pussy lips seemed equally pleased. He’d slid a finger through her folds to get a baseline reading. Damp but not drenched. He'd rectify that later.
Running about all day with no knickers was bound to leave her dripping. He’d kept his hands off of her so far, not wanting to confuse her mental state with one more conflicting emotion; but when they got back, he intended to pull up that dress and take a nice leisurely tour of her outback.
Leaning in a bit closer, he tried to get a whiff of her. There was too much fresh air for him to sniff out her excitement. Damn fresh air. He liked how little she wore in this weather, but the cold back home had forced them to keep each other warm. There were drawbacks to each climate.
He started to imagine her bent over that little bed back at the inn. She’d look lovely draped over some pillows, her legs spread so he could see her shiny slit. He would lick her until she came all over his face. Maybe he'd give her arse a good stretching while he feasted on her folds. She liked that.
“There they are,” Hermione whispered.
Severus jerked out of his reverie and watched as the man and woman from Hermione’s wall came to life and exited the office. Her father locked the door behind them then offered Mrs. Granger his arm. She slid her hand around his elbow, and they started back toward the main road. Hermione looked after them, a knitted expression of longing on her face.
“Come on,” he muttered, urging her up. “Let’s follow them.”
Hermione slipped her hand into Snape’s, and they tailed her parents from a safe distance. She kept her eyes on their backs, waiting for the moments when they would turn their heads and she could watch them in profile.
“Do they live nearby?” Snape asked, pacing their steps so they would't get too close.
“No, they’ve got a car somewhere.”
The couple went down the road then entered a restaurant Hermione had pointed out on the trip over. Severus looked down at her. “Feeling peckish?”
Hermione tried to peer through the window to follow their progress. “They’ll see us.”
So? “Let’s go in. We haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
He opened the door for her, and Hermione crept in, searching for her parents in all directions. A woman with menus greeted them and started to lead them over to a table.
Snape held out his hand to stop her. “Do you mind if we take that table by the window? She likes the sun.”
The hostess gave him a funny look then shrugged. “Sure.”
She took them to the table right behind the Grangers, and Snape pulled out a chair for Hermione, arranging things so she could watch her parents while she ate.
They took their seats, and Snape studied the menu while she studied the Wilkins. The waiter brought them their water, and Snape told him they’d be ready to order in a couple minutes.
Severus reached across the table and touched her hand. "Hermione."
She looked at him, snapped from her spying trance.
"Are you all right?"
She nodded and gave him a weak smile.
"What would you like to eat?"
She glanced down at the menu. "I'll have whatever you're having."
He nodded and scanned the menu. "Roast chicken and potatoes?"
"Sure," she answered absently.
"I've never had dinner with a witch's parents before."
Hermione's lips twitched into a real smile. "I think they'd like you."
He snorted and kept his voice low. "The man who's spanking and fucking their daughter?"
She bit her own laugh from her lips. "No, the intelligent and brave war hero who's helping their daughter get better."
"Ah. He does sound better than me."
Hermione shook her head, breathing out a soft laugh. "You're all those things and then some."
Severus felt her foot touch his under the table, and his skin buzzed at the bump. How did the simple tapping of her toes against his get his motor going? He slid his foot between hers and let her rub against his calf. Maybe she would work off some of that nervous tension.
The waiter came back, and Snape placed their orders. They waited for their food in silence, both of them staying quiet in an attempt to overhear her parents. Only the odd word was loud enough to reach them, but Hermione was hanging onto every syllable as if she could understand what they were saying. Severus didn’t have any objections to a quiet dinner. He just wanted to be with her. It was a bit odd to sit at a table with someone who was staring over his shoulder as if he wasn't there, but he wanted to make sure she got whatever it was she needed from this trip. If she just wanted to be close to them for a while, he would facilitate the reunion.
Hermione couldn’t really hear what was being discussed, but the soft murmur of her parents’ conversation took her back to happier times. From where Hermione sat, all she could see of her mother was her curly hair. It was just like her own, except her mum always kept hers swept back. It was still the same even after all these years. Her father was facing her, and she had a clear shot of his smiling face as he sipped his wine. He looked the same too. Maybe a little less hair and a few more wrinkles. Their conversation became more giggly, and Hermione wondered what they were talking about. Probably patients. Or maybe they were discussing holiday plans. What was Christmas like for them now? Did they go out? Did they invite over their friends? Maybe they stayed cuddled together in the house the way they used to back home.
The waiter brought her parents' food, and Hermione noted their chosen entrées. Her dad had gotten some kind of chicken dish. She couldn’t properly see her mum’s plate. Probably pasta. Did people’s tastes change when their memories had been altered? Her dad used to make a chicken Alfredo that was famous throughout the neighborhood. Did he still cook? He used to spend hours in the kitchen. On weekends he would go out and grill, leaving the house smelling of smoke when he came in.
Did her mum still paint? Did they play bridge with their friends? Did her Dad still tell those corny dentist jokes he got from 8-year-olds? Had she taken that away from them too? Were they happy here? They certainly appeared happy. She was ashamed to feel a spark of jealousy. How could they be so happy without her? Didn't they miss her at all? Didn't they have some unconscious desire for their child? Did they ever dream about her? That was what she liked to believe. Maybe every night, when they were both under the spell of Morpheus, the rooms that she’d walled off in their minds opened up and let out some memories. They were still a family in that realm.
“Hermione?” Snape muttered, joggling her leg with his. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to eat?”
She looked down. When had they brought this? Snape’s plate was already half-empty. Hermione picked up her fork and ate some of the potatoes. She barely tasted them.
Severus kept one eye on her, but he said nothing more. He wasn’t going to force feed her. She’d eat when she got hungry. Maybe pretending to have dinner with her parents was the gift she needed most this Christmas.
Hermione absently picked at her food as she watched her parents eat. It was sort of like being back home in their kitchen—except her parents were ignoring her. Her mum didn't ask her how things were going. Her dad didn't tell her any funny stories about the teeth he'd cleaned that day. This was a sad imitation of their old life. But, still, it was the closest thing she'd had to normalcy in a long time. She'd never had the nerve to sit down right next to them. Snape had gotten her a front row seat. Glancing at him, she felt guilty for not paying more attention to him. If he hadn't come along, she wouldn't have had this opportunity. She was grateful he was there with her, his leg pressed to hers under the table. She needed his steady influence. He never seemed to be in a hurry. Sometimes he became uncontrollably passionate, but even then he wasn't rushed. He just got more intense.
What would her parents think about her seeing Snape? She'd never considered it before. Would they politely ignore their age difference? Would they think she was off her rocker? Her parents were the kind of people who waited until they got to know someone before making up their mind, but Snape wasn't the kind of man any parent would expect their daughter to bring home. And if they ever found out how they'd met . . . bloody hell. Which was worse, he was my professor, or I put a sub-seeks-dom personal in the Prophet?
I guess that's not something I ever have to worry about. They don't know who I am, and they don't care that my ex-professor is spanking me every weekend. They don't know what I do for a living. They don't know where I live. They don't know that I graduated university. They don't even know I'm alive.
Severus hadn't seen her move for several minutes. Her face was becoming a mask of torment. He didn't know if she was sad or just tense. Reaching out, he put his hand over hers and stroked the back of her wrist. She met his eyes, and her expression softened. There's my sweet witch. Is this too much for you? Maybe it was more painful for her to be so close and yet still feel so far away.
Hermione barely noticed as Snape paid the check and the waiter transferred her food to a doggie bag. She was trying to memorize every millimeter of movement her parents made. They would go home soon, and she'd have to leave behind her fake family dinner. Her dad paid the check, and her mum finished her cup of coffee. It was decaf. She'd be up all night if it was regular.
Severus saw the tightening of Hermione's features as her parents rose to leave. He waited until they were out the door then took Hermione's hand and went after them.
Severus kept her hand in his and restrained her when she tried to overtake them. "Don't let them see you again so soon. They'll know we're following them if they recognize you from the restaurant."
Hermione nodded and fell into step beside him. Her parents stopped and chatted with a few people on the street, and Hermione pretended to be interested in a window display so she could catch their conversation. She couldn't make out anything except her mother's laugh.
Snape tugged her arm when her parents started to walk again, and she saw her Dad approach a white car parked on the side of the road. Her parents got in, and Severus led her past just as they were pulling away. The car slowly disappeared down the road, and she stopped walking when it was no longer visible, staring at the pinpoint on the horizon where their car had blinked out of sight.
"Did they seem happy to you?" she whispered.
Severus put his arm around her. "Yes. How was it seeing them?"
She put her hand over her stomach. "It hurts."
He pulled her in, hugging her in the middle of the sidewalk so everyone had to stream around them. "I know."
She buried her face in his cool white shirt. "They didn't even notice me."
He hugged her tighter. "They're missing out."
Hermione gave his shirt a watery smile. "What did you think of them?"
"They seemed nice." He kissed the top of her head. "Why don't you tell me about them. We'll take the scenic route back to the inn."
Hermione slipped her hand into his, and they turned around and headed back the way they'd come. "Mum wanted to be an artist when she was little. She still paints. Those two watercolors in my room are hers. Dad likes to build things, he made the frames for her paintings. And he's a really good cook. They met each other at uni."
Severus listened as she poured out her parents' life story. It was dark when she ran out of words. They sat for a while on a bench beneath a quiet grove of shade trees, and he held her in his lap until she stopped crying.
"Whether they remember it or not, you are an amazing daughter. I think they would be proud of you."
That just made the tears fall faster. Hermione hid her face in his neck.
"You take care of everyone but yourself," he whispered. "Someone needs to watch out for you."
She nodded. "You."
"Me?" He didn't know if he was the best man for the job . . . but he wanted to be.
"You're the only one who takes care of me."
He held her tighter. "I'll do the job as long as you want me."
"Thank you.” Hermione rubbed the side of his face, feeling the rough scrape of his stubble. It hurt her fingers, but she needed to make sure he was real. Sometimes the world felt like a crazy dream. “I’m so glad you answered my ad, Severus. My life was too lonely before you came along."
Merlin's balls. He bit his tongue. Was she trying to crack apart his heart?
"I know I seem sad now, but I would have been worse if you weren't here."
He nodded, taking in a slow breath to steady himself. "You are too sweet to ever have to feel that way. If I could take away your pain I would do it in a second."
Hermione smiled though her tears. "You already do."
Severus closed his eyes and pressed his face into her curly hair. "I want to be good for you."
"You are. Look how much better I am since you started coming around."
"Taking care of you is the only worthwhile thing I do."
"Don't say that," she protested, picking up her head. "Teaching is worthwhile. Education is extremely important. And you laid down your life for the wizarding world. What could be more worthwhile?"
"I don't know if I'm doing much good as a teacher. The students dread Potions, and I have the urge to clonk their empty heads together every time I read their essays."
"That doesn't make it not worthwhile."
"And,” he added before she could sugarcoat his life any further, “I didn't lay down my life for the wizarding world."
Hermione stroked his face, trying to look in his eyes. "You didn't?"
"I . . ." He didn't know if he wanted to tell her. She was the one person whose approval mattered to him. He didn't want to mar her opinion of him. "I only saved Potter because I . . . owed Lily."
The worry melted from her face, and she smiled. "I know."
"Potter told you?"
She nodded. "That doesn't make you any less brave or noble. You fought for love. Why would you think that wasn't worthy?"
He stared at her for a minute, wondering if he should tell her the truth. "Because my reasons were selfish. I was trying to assuage my guilt. I wasn't being noble; I did it to unburden my own soul."
Hermione's smile didn't waver. "If you weren't a decent human being it wouldn't have hurt you so much. Your heart is in the right place, Severus. You've just kept it in the dark for so long you think the light's not meant for you. But I know it is, because no one who sacrifices their life for another person, no matter the reasons, is selfish. You're a good man whether you want to believe it or not."
His tongue would be bleeding soon. He couldn't get his teeth out of it.
Hermione kissed his chin. "You forgive my mistakes so easily, but when it comes to yourself, you have no compassion. You're just like me. Do you think you could ever forgive yourself?”
That was a difficult question. He looked up at the clear night sky for an answer. The moon was bright, and it shone through the rustling leaves. Severus listened to the quiet wind whispering around them and the distant crash of the ocean. Although he'd come to terms with his past, he hadn't forgiven himself. The future might hold many things, but he doubted he would ever find absolution. “I don’t know.”
She nodded. “I don't know if I can forgive myself either. Maybe we can hold onto each other’s forgiveness until we’re ready for it.”
He touched the side of her face, wondering what fluke of nature had landed her in his lap. “You’d better not lose any of mine, because no one else will loan me any.”
Hermione smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “It’s safe with me.”
Severus took another deep breath. His chest suddenly felt much lighter.
Hermione rested her cheek on his shoulder and stuck her nose in his neck. She breathed in the scent of his skin, letting it transport her to her safe place. “You smell so good.”
Snape’s lips ticked up at the corners. “So do you, pet. Do you want to go back to our room and sniff each other?"
Hermione giggled silently into his shoulder then wiped the drying tears from her face with one hand. “Kiss and sniff?”
“Anything you want. Where did you want me to kiss you first?”
She grinned. “Where did you want to sniff me first?”
Snape laughed. “I believe the appropriate answer on this continent is down under.”
"In Australia that’s everywhere. You’ll have to be more specific.”
Severus tickled the side of her hip. “Everywhere was exactly what I had in mind.” He pressed his nose to her cheek. “I’m going to lay you down on the bed and start right here.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Then I’ll sniff out your most aromatic areas before tasting each one. I’ll save your pussy for last, because it smells the best.”
Hermione kissed him back. "Has anyone ever told you your balls smell like candy?"
Snape burst out laughing. "No. That's a first."
"Your dick does too. That's why I can't stop sucking on it."
“I didn’t know you had such a sweet tooth. Let’s get you back to the inn. I think we need to test out that bed before we both pass out from exhaustion.”
“I am pretty tired.”
“Too tired to scream my name?” he asked, squeezing her bum.
“I’m always ready to scream your name.” She grinned. “Plus it helps me sleep.”

__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Everything between Hermione’s thighs was drenched. She could feel the silky slip-slide of her labia with every shift of her hips. Snape’s licking had left her a drippy mess. She currently had her face in his lap, repaying the favor. His shaft swelled, giving her plenty to stroke and grip. Gods, she loved the way he felt in her hand. She’d always enjoyed driving a stick shift. Sucking his pretty purple knob into her mouth, she looked up at him and flickered her tongue over the tip.
“Okay,” he said, grimacing. “I don’t think I can get any harder.” His eyes went wide as her nimble fingers slipped behind his balls and proved him wrong. Her perineal massage spread to include his backdoor, and his dick jumped for joy in her mouth. “You’d better be careful, little girl. You’re opening Pandora’s box.”
Hermione grinned up at him. “Pandora’s box makes you very hard.”
He smirked. “Have you ever fingered another person?”
“I’ve read about it.”
Severus breathed out a raspy chuckle. “I bet you have. I think you’d better save that for another night. It’s more of a finisher for me . . . or a resurrection.”
She let go of his dick so it bounced against his abdomen with comical amplitude. “I can see that. It's trying to ascend as we speak.”
Severus swatted her hands away from his arse and pulled her up to face him. “You cheeky little monkey. Do I need to put you over my knee again?”
Hermione shook her head with a smile. Her bum was warm enough. That spanking he'd given her when they got back to the room had been a panty-wetting scorcher.
She’d always thought the phrase “aching for it” was overly dramatic, but she was literally aching for his cock. Her insides clenched at each other, desperate for him to fill the emptiness. Hermione could almost feel him moving in and out of her, and he wasn’t even pressed between her legs yet.
Severus rolled her over and ground his hips into her heat. The sound of her mewling whimpers was an inspiring soundtrack. “I’m going to pound this pretty pussy through the mattress,” he growled into her neck. “Tell me how much you want my cock.”
She couldn’t keep her hands off him. Her knees tightened around his hips, and she locked him against her. “Please fuck me, Severus. I’ve missed your cock so much.”
Snape smiled and shifted his hips around until his knob found her flooded passageway. “He missed you too, pet. He said a week is too long to go without the wet kiss of your cunt. Does your pussy agree?”
Hermione smiled and tried to force him in. He just kept tipping his flared head into her puddled passion so her sex sounded deafeningly loud. “Yes, she does.”
“Squeeze that pussy around me. Hold on tight.”
Hermione contracted her muscles and groaned as everything became more intense. “Mm!”
“That’s right,” he hissed, sinking in deeper. “Don’t let go of me.”

__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Gretchen looked up at the ceiling above their bed as the sound of squeaking bedsprings drifted from the room overhead. She grinned when she saw her husband’s expression.
Bartholomew glanced at his wife in shock. “What did you say this bloke was like?”
Gretchen burst out in silent guffaws, covering her mouth with one hand. “You know the boy who delivers the groceries?”
He smirked. “You mean the Count of the canned goods?” he asked in Transylvanian accent.
She nodded. “Picture him in 20 or 30 years.”
“Our sweet little Jane Wilkins is dating a would-be vampire?”
Gretchen shook her head. “I don’t think he was trying to pass himself off as one of the ‘children of the night.’ He just had that look. Why, what kind of man did you picture her with?”
He stared up at the ceiling as the creaking picked up speed. “Someone quiet and calm. That poor girl needs someone affectionate.”
“He sounds pretty affectionate to me.”
Bart grinned and shook his head. “Think we should tell them to keep it down?”
“No!” Gretchen looked at him in disbelief. “There’s no one else here—they’re not bothering anybody. Besides, she’d die of embarrassment.”
“You think she’s serious about him?”
“Have you ever seen her bring anyone else here in all the years we’ve known her?”
“No.”
“I’m happy for her. It sounds like she found someone she can relate to.”
“Unnnnhhhh!”
They both shook with silent laughter, and Bart took Gretchen’s hand. “Want to give ‘em a run for their money?”
Gretchen smiled and brought his fingers to her lips. “Only if you put up a silencing charm. I don’t want anyone to get jealous.”

__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Severus dropped his head to her shoulder, brushing her hair to one side so he could breathe without inhaling it. “I’m knackered, pet.”
“Me too,” she croaked.
“Do you think you can sleep?”
“Only for about a hundred years.”
“Are we going spying again tomorrow?”
“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. I know it must be boring for you to sit around with me all day staring at a building.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I came to be here for you. And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m the one with spying experience. You’re complete bollocks at it.”
Hermione smiled. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. I’m surprised you haven't been picked up for vagrancy . . . or stalking.”
“All right then, tomorrow we’ll do it your way.”
He kissed her neck. “You’ll be the star pupil at Snape’s Spy School.”
Severus rolled to his back, keeping her on his chest so she could sleep. After he’d put out the lights, she lifted up and kissed him. The soft warmth of her lips made his stomach melt.
“Night, Severus.”
“Goodnight, Hermione.”
She snuggled into his side, and he felt her eyelashes brush his chest as she closed her eyes.
Snape stayed awake for a while, listening to her breathing deepen and slow. Maybe tomorrow would be easier for her. Maybe the worst was past. He didn't want her to look so sad and lost ever again. He could never replace her parents, but if he put some effort into it, maybe he could help her find some peace with the situation. It was her enormous ability to love that was causing her pain. With a little work, maybe she would see that as a pro rather than a con.
Her sensitive nature was both her downfall and her greatest asset. She was so ready to care, but so open to all the hurt that entailed. He'd opted to close down most ports of emotion to survive, but she'd opened up every dock in the hope that an unplanned shipment would fill the hole in her heart.
In a way, her plan had worked. Her openness had left a door for him to enter through. If she hadn't set out a welcome mat inviting him him in, he never would have trusted her so easily. She never hid how much she loved being with him, and he did his best to be equally forthcoming. Sometimes it was hard for him to admit his private thoughts, but he did it for her. She needed his assurance that she was wanted.
And he did want her. He wanted her more than anything he'd wanted in a long time.
He held her tighter, stroking her back. Please let tomorrow be good day for her. Any witch who could see the virtue in his damaged soul deserved all the happiness the world had to offer.
__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Snape was perched on the same bench once more. They’d moved about all morning, pretending to shop and staking out the office from various points of the courtyard. There was a small cafe that sat diagonally to the dentists, and they had an extremely long lunch there, watching from the window. Now they’d returned to the same spot as yesterday like a pair of homing pigeons.
She’d been quiet all day, not attempting to engage him in conversation. For such a curious witch, the silence seemed wrong. If this were a real holiday she would have been bursting with excitement. She answered him whenever he asked her anything, but he could tell she was lost in her own thoughts. He certainly didn’t mind not talking, but he was concerned she was getting sucked into a spiral of sadness. Putting his arm around her, he squeezed her shoulder, getting her attention. “You all right?”
“MmHm.”
“What are you thinking about?” I never thought I’d hear myself say that.
“I was thinking about Christmases with my parents. Dad used to make dinner, and Mum would make these pretty centerpieces.”
“What do you usually do on Christmas?”
“Sometimes I stay here until New Years, but for the past few years, I’ve gone to Harry and Ginny’s. I go over around lunch when James is starting to wind down.”
“Do you enjoy that?” It didn’t sound appealing to him in the least.
She smiled and shrugged. “It’s fun. Ron comes over, and we all play with the toys. It takes my mind off things.”
He wanted to invite her to Hogwarts, but that would be complicated. Their privacy would be blown, and he didn’t want her to stay with him out of pity. She was the kind of witch who thought Christmas was about charity, and he didn’t want to be her good deed for the season.
“Do you want to come over to my place?” she asked, studying his face. “We don’t have to do anything Christmas-y if you don’t want to. We could just spend the day together.”
He arched one eyebrow in consideration. “That Christmas spanking you asked for would be more authentic if it came on the 25th. I’ll have to put in an appearance at school. Minerva’s expecting me for the feast.”
“You could come over afterward. I know Crookshanks will be glad to see you. He hates it when I make him wear the funny hats from the Christmas crackers.”
Severus snickered. “I don’t do funny hats either.”
“How about mistletoe?”
Kissing her forehead, he nodded. “I wouldn’t mind getting stuck under the mistletoe with you.” For several hours.
Hermione rested her hand on his knee and turned back to the office front. “Excellent. Then after my spanking, we can spend the day kissing each other while we listen to Christmas carols.”
He snorted. “I don’t do Christmas carols either.”
“We can shag under the Christmas tree with the wireless playing in the background,” she said, pretending she hadn't heard him. “It’ll be fun.”
“I am not shagging on the cold floor to the tune of Good King Wenceslas,” he said with a distasteful grimace.
She started giggling. It got funnier the more she tried to stop. “How about Frosty the Snowman?”
He shook his head at her contagious levity, trying to keep his controlled countenance. “Fucking to Frosty,” he muttered. “Sounds like a top forty hit.”
She suddenly stopped giggling and sat up straighter. Her parents were exiting the office. Snape kept his arm around her, rubbing his thumb over her shoulder to calm her. When her parents had gotten about a half a block away, he took her hand and they followed them just as they had the day before.
The Grangers visited a different restaurant that night, and he couldn’t get Hermione quite as close; but they had a decent view of the couple from their table in the corner.
When they followed them to their car, Hermione pulled him faster, trying to gain on them. Severus knew this was her last chance to see her parents before returning home the next morning. They walked about a broom's length behind the Wilkins like a hovering honor guard. He could see that she wanted to do or say something—hug them, get some sort of acknowledgment—but she just stood there like statue, a tight expression scrunching her face. The Wilkins got into their car none the wiser. Severus squeezed her hand, reminding her to act normal but also making sure she knew he was still there. She looked so alone.
Hermione crushed Snape's fingers with hers, binding herself to him to keep from running after her parents. Please turn around. Just look at me before you go. The red brake lights blinked as her father pulled the car into the road.
Her heart felt disconnected, a child's balloon bobbing in a hurricane. Snape held her to the earth by a threadbare string. If he let go of her now, the sky would swallow her up. Hermione followed the car’s progress until the retreating red lights were nothing more than a memory. Just like that, they were gone. Again. Come back. Please.
A single tear rolled down her cheek, and Severus wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “It's all right.”
Hermione buried her face in his chest, still seeing the crimson glow of the taillights on the insides of her eyelids.
“Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s take a walk.”

__ __ __ __ __ __ __
Severus sat with her on the bed. She was in his lap, curled into his chest, crying softly. The brass headboard was digging into his spine, but he ignored it, choosing to focus on stroking her back instead. They’d walked all the way to the beach and then, when it got dark, returned to Castle Hill.
She hadn't made a peep since her parents’ departure. Nods and head shakes were the extent of her replies. He hadn’t even known she’d been crying until they’d gotten up to the room and he saw the wet tracks streaking her face. He’d been sitting with her ever since, waiting for the shaky sobs to subside
After an hour, she gradually stilled, and Severus brushed her hair back from her face so he could clean her up with his wand. When he cleared her nasal passages the sniffling stopped and she sighed deeply.
“Thank you.”
“For what, pet?”
“Letting me cry on you.”
He stroked her head. “Are you ready to go to bed?”
“Will you kiss me first?”
A small smile twitched at his lips. “As much as you like.” Hugging her close, he placed a chaste kiss on her salty lips.
“Was that it?” Hermione asked, giving him a confused look.
“Are you up for more?”
Hermione nodded and pulled him closer. “Don’t let go of me.”
His heart jolted.Never. He knew what she meant, but his internal organs romanticized the interpretation until he was almost gagging on the sweetness in his gut. Why was his viscera so over-reactive? Settle down. She just doesn't want to be alone. Give her what she needs.
Snape ran his nose over her cheek and pecked her neck. "I'm not letting go, but I need you to tell me what kind of kiss you want. I don't want to push you after the day you've had."
Hermione closed her eyes as his breath breezed over her throat and made her skin prickle with excitement. "Do it the way you always do it. I won't be sad if you're kissing me."
The way I always do it? He'd kissed her about a thousand different ways since that first night on her couch. Slow and easy. Passionate and rough. Tongue. Lips. Teeth. There were so many variables. Turning her face to his, he looked in her eyes. He could read her thoughts if he had to, but perhaps mental invasion wasn't necessary. Softly pressing his mouth to hers, he closed his eyes. He caught her lower lip and sucked it gently. She sighed. It was a sound of relief. That was a good sign. He read her responses and translated them into his own fluent language. He hoped his kiss said more than he ever could. Although he engaged in playful banter with her, he didn't really like talking—or more specifically talking about his feelings.
Just the thought of revealing his burgeoning attachment to her made him queasy. Words could be dangerous. And unnecessary. Did he not spell out his desire for her with every hard-on? Wasn't every hug a silent "I care about you"? Did his continued presence not scream "I want to be with you"? Well, now he was speaking in tongues. Hopefully she would get the message. Don't cry anymore, love. I'll take care of you. The nobler side of him that wanted to protect and care for another person had no other outlet. She was his safe zone. Others would laugh in his face if they found out that the hated Potions master harbored any nurturing tendencies, but she accepted his softer side without a whit of mockery. It wasn't just the freedom that afforded him, it was a matter of sanity. And perhaps salvation.
Hermione slid her arm around his neck so she wouldn't slide off his lap. He was melting her like butter in the broiler. Her brain was drugged by the sweet waltz of his tongue. His breath was hot on her cheek. Every exhale was a whisper, tickling her with his ragged respiration. They were both breathing hard, struggling to get more oxygen in the close confines of the other’s face.
Severus was losing his mind one whimper at a time. If she made that sound again, he couldn't be held responsible for the reaction in his trousers. He told his dick to stay calm, but it refused to listen. It knew those lips too well to just pass by without popping up to say hello. Dammit! Stay down. She's going to think you're only after one thing. He focused on the warmth of her against him, the feel of her dress in his hands, the sweetness of her breath in his mouth. His dick still insisted on butting in. It knew what was under that dress and which spots were even warmer.
"Let's lay you down," he muttered against her lips. Maybe if her pussy wasn't perched atop his prick like a prurient parakeet, he could rein in his lower half.
Hermione kept her lips on his as he scooped her off his lap and set her to the side. They sank down until they were horizontal, her head resting on his arm. He adjusted one of the pillows to prop up his head, and she slung a leg over his hip to pull him closer.
Blast! That was even more suggestive. And she was going to feel his erection now that her dress was all rucked up around her waist. "Wait, Hermione," he mumbled, pulling back. "I need to say something.” And calm down.
Hermione stroked his cheek. “What is it?”
He took a slow breath. How could he want to say something so much but dread it with every fiber of his being? “You know what you said yesterday about me taking care of you?”
She nodded.
“I’m not sure if I know how. No one’s ever asked it of me before. Hugging you isn’t any kind of strain, but besides reassuring you, I have no idea how to take care of someone.”
She smiled. “You’re already doing it.”
“Sometimes I feel as if I’m . . .” He sighed, searching for the right words. “As if I’m an actor in my own life. There’s something surreal about it.”
Hermione nodded slowly. “I feel that way sometimes too—when I'm scared. I keep going, but . . . I'm faking it.”
So it wasn't just him. “You never have to pretend with me. I can accept anything you're feeling.”
She smiled. “I've never faked anything with you.”
“And I wouldn't want you to.”
“What about you? Am I forcing you to be someone you're not?”
“No. Not at all. It's a role I want to play, it's just . . .”
“Unfamiliar?”
“Yes. But at the same time it’s . . .”
“Like a memory you forgot you had.”
He stared at her. Yes.
“But then something reminds you that it's been inside you all along.”
Bloody hell, she did understand. “Yes.”
Hermione nodded. “That’s how I feel with you.”
His molars locked themselves in his tongue until the tightness in his throat faded. “I want to give you everything you need,” he whispered. “Just say the word. I want you to have something good to remember about this trip. Tell me what I can give you.”
Her chest buzzed with a purring warmth, her heart cuddling closer to him. Hermione didn't want to cry anymore. She knew what she needed. And apparently his dick knew too; it hadn’t flagged once during their conversation. Tightening her leg so her pussy was pressed to his bulging fly, she touched her lips to his. "I want you inside me—as close as possible. Your cock calms me down.”
Merlin's bloody balls. Was she trying to burst his zipper? Her steamy suggestion made his brain sweat. "Are you sure? You're not too sad?"
She shook her head and brushed her nose over his. "I need you, Severus. I need to know that there's still something beautiful in my life . . . something to balance all the sadness."
He stared into her honey brown eyes. No one else had ever broken his heart with a request for sex. "I may not be pretty, but I can make you feel something beautiful."
Hermione smiled and ran her hand over his chest. "You are the sexiest wizard I know."
He didn't refute her statement, but inside he was wondering how long those rose-colored glasses would skew her perception in his favor. "We'd better get you out of that pretty dress so it doesn't get ruined. Sit up for me."
Hermione reluctantly rose, leaving the warmth of his embrace. He unzipped her dress then pulled it over her head and tossed it onto the dresser. Her bra popped open, springing her breasts free. She felt his hand, but she wondered if he'd used magic. Even she couldn't get it off that easily. His fingers traced over the indentations left by the band, and a shiver slithered up her spine. Her skin felt over-sensitive. She needed to be pressed up against him—naked—the heat of his soul roasting her, his dick piercing her pussy like a spit while she was consumed by the flames of his possession.
Severus kissed her face as she tore at his clothes. She had his white button-up buttoned down in record time. She didn't even wait for him to shrug off it off before running her hands all over his chest and back. He managed to shuck his trousers and boxers as she rolled against him like a gathering storm. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end. He needed to ground himself in her body.
Hermione grunted as he rolled her onto her back and began to snog away her rational mind. He was finally naked and pressed so tightly to her she could feel him from her head to her toes. His thigh slid between hers, and she ground her pussy against it to work off some steam.
Snape's length was trapped against her hip, leaving a trail of lust all over her soft skin. He wanted to take his time with her. Beauty needed a slow buildup. He let her grind against his leg as he took her mouth. She tasted of warmth and light. It was like kissing summertime. He basked in her glow.
Hermione couldn't control her hips; they were humping him like a naughty puppy. She told them to behave, but her pussy would have none of that. It was already salivating for his cock, hungry to eat him up and suck on his bone.
The longer he left her to writhe, the sloppier her cunny’s kisses became. It started out with her lips just leaking a little juice, but now her pubic hair was drenched too; the dewy line followed her slit like a riverbed. It had overflowed all over his leg, plastering the black hairs against his skin, a pomade of pussy serum.
Severus waited until his thigh was smeared with her arousal before he approached her mound. One hand slid down her body, and he lifted his hips to cup her muff. Sweet Circe. A single finger swiped through her glossy folds, and she groaned out a cry of desperation. "Just relax, pet. I need a fresh taste of you before I go inside."
Hermione smiled as he tongued her breasts, lapping over her nipples like silk. She sank her fingers into his hair and sighed as he sucked her into the muggy heat of his mouth. She really needed him to shag her, but who could say no to that tongue? And those teeth . . . fuck! As if she wasn't wet enough already.
Hermione felt the pull travel all the way to her clit like a live wire. Her nails scraped over his scalp. She needed something to hold onto, but he was getting further away. Come back. He kissed a soft path down her belly, which only made her stomach clench to stone; she was going to need a geologist to chisel out her organs when they were done.
Severus continued his trail of kisses through her soft fur and then into the fragrant heat of her garden. The plush bulb of her clitoris was already blooming and awaiting his pruning. He lapped it in greeting, watering it with worship. She squirmed and bucked, but he never lost contact.
"Please, Severus. I really need you to fuck me now."
He looked up her body, watching her between the twin peaks of her breasts. She lifted her head and met his eyes, and he saw the loneliness hiding behind her hungry gaze. Giving her pussy one last kiss, he climbed up and pressed his heart to hers. Her arms wrapped around him, and Severus nuzzled her cheek as he wiggled into her wetlands. He slipped one arm behind her neck to cradle her head and keep her close. It took some hip shifting to get things connected without the aid of his hands, but she spread her legs wider to open the gates. He waited right at the starting line, making sure they were both comfortable before he got going. He needed to stay in the saddle for a while. Fucking away pain took time.
He kept his eyes on hers as he slowly eased inside. The brown of her irises darkened, and a needy purr hummed from her throat. When he bottomed out, she exhaled all the air in her lungs as if she'd been holding her breath. The tension left her face, and he paused to savor the moment. "Is that what you needed, pet?"
She nodded, never breaking eye contact. "I wish you were inside me all the time."
He smiled softly and kissed her cheek. "That would make teaching more pleasant."
Her hips started to move on their own accord, and she sighed out a quiet moan as the thick weight of his cock nudged her depths.
Severus pressed his lips to hers and slipped his tongue into her mouth as he began to rock inside her. He wanted to taste that next moan. She stopped her anxious writhing and locked her legs around him, pulling him even closer. Her hands clasped his back, and her nails pinched into his flesh. She must have thought she was hurting him, because she suddenly smoothed her palms over the dents as if she were rubbing salve on his wounds. The constant stroking calmed him. His mind began to drift.
Hermione's stomach finally stopped aching, and she closed her eyes to shut out the rest of the world. He was the only thing she needed now: the heavy heat of his body, the slow swipe of his tongue, the hard girth of his cock stretching her like a heavenly shaft of light. As long as he kept her filled to the brim, nothing bad could fit inside her. Her worry about her parents faded away. The pain of the past perished with every prod of his rod. Her guilt was silenced, drowned out by his soft growls.
Snape’s logic had been switched off for the night. He was running on intuition now. The primal magic of her twitching sheath opened his consciousness to new horizons. Everything made sense when he was inside her. He pulled his lips from hers so they could both catch their breath, but he was immediately winded by the expression on her face. No one had ever looked at him like that—as if she wanted every ounce of him, bitter and sweet. Why was she so accepting of him? Why didn't she see his faults? How could she be so blind?
"I'm getting close, Severus. Please go faster."
He didn't speed up. She would come soon, and he wanted it to be spectacular.
Hermione gave up trying to spur him faster with her feet. He wasn't budging from his set pace. She held onto his gaze to keep herself centered. "Don't close your eyes," she whispered, running one hand down his face.
His heart thudded like a steel hammer, sparks flying in his ventricles.
She needed his stare to invade her just as much as his penetrating sex. "You are the only person who sees me as I am . . . and you still want me."
If his hips hadn't been on auto-pilot, he would have stopped in his tracks. She'd answered his unasked questions while at the same time revealing his own sentiments. She'd just identified a major reason behind his own attraction to her. He just hadn't totally realized it until she said it. "I do want you. Every inch of you."
Hermione searched his dark eyes. How could so much fire burn in black ice? What was hiding in those dark depths? "I want all of you too."
"Are you sure about that? That's a lot of baggage for one little witch."
She smiled. "I'll just shrink it down and fit it in my pocket."
He returned her smile. "Thank you, pet. That's that nicest offer I've ever received."
"I don't mind. I like it when you smile like that. It makes me happy to see you happy."
"I am, pet. Never more so." He hissed as her muscles rippled around his shaft. "I know you're getting close. Do I need to talk you over?"
Hermione nodded. She couldn't climax unless she was totally focused. His words were the blinders she needed to stay on track. "Yes, please."
Smiling, he gave her one last peck. "I'm going to take such good care of you tonight. I’m going to fuck you till you fall asleep in my arms. This little pussy is going to be so sleepy when I'm done with it. Keep those eyes on me. I want to see that face you make when it hits you. You are so fucking beautiful when you come.”
“Please make it dirty or I’m gonna cry,” she whispered.
“Oh, pet,” he murmured, kissing her again. “No more crying tonight.” It took him a second to switch from sweet to perverted. Okay. ”Do you hear that? That’s the sound of your pussy begging me to fuck you all night long. Is all that juice dripping down between your cheeks yet? It will be once you come. So wet,” he sighed. “Nice and ready for my fingers. What do you think, should we try three? Two made you come awfully fast last time. I think you've been having some very naughty dreams about filling up that bottom. Am I right?"
“Yes, sir.”
He grinned into her hair. Sir? So that was what she wanted to hear. “I know what you’ve been thinking about, pet. You want to be my dirty little schoolgirl, don’t you? You want me hard under my teaching robes, keeping you after class for our special detentions. You can’t wait for me to tell you to lift your skirt and grab your ankles so the cane can kiss your backside. I can give you all of that, pet. I can pull down your sticky little knickers and show the class how much you love being my good girl.” Her canal streamed around him, her muscles taut with tension. It was time to put the final nail in the coffin. “Come for me, Hermione. Come for me right now, or I’m going to paddle that pussy until you scream. Do you understand me, young lady?”
Her eyes rolled back, and she shouted out a hoarse note of gratitude as she came.
Severus grinned as her pussy clenched around him. He meant every word of that. Tonight was about making sure she was taken care of. He would do whatever it took to make her feel safe, and that meant proving to her that he wanted every side of her, every facet and fantasy. Even the parts she was too embarrassed to admit yet. He would give her all of it, every heart-rending hug and every bum-tingling smack. She didn't need to hide anything from him.
"That's it," he purred, kissing her cheek as she came back down. "Let me take care of this sweet little pussy."
Hermione smiled and ran her thumb over his lower lip. "It's all yours."

__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __
"Unnnnnnnhhhh!"
Bartholomew looked up at the ceiling. "Crickey. Are they still at it?"
Gretchen snickered and checked the clock. "I've got to hand it to her, she picked a man with staying power."
"I hope his staying power isn't just limited to the bedroom. Think he'll be coming back with her in June?"
Gretchen shrugged. "Never can tell."
"If he does, I'm putting up permanent sound-dampening spells."
"I like it," Gretchen with a small smile. "It reminds me of our honeymoon."
Bart chuckled. "My stamina was legendary back then, wasn't it?"
"It wasn't your stamina that kept me coming back for more."
"No?"
"I just liked the way you were constantly pawing at me."
He slid his hand under the sheet to stroke her thigh. "I couldn't keep my hands off you. Still can't."
"You haven't pawed me in ages."
Bart grinned. "Then I'd better make up for lost time."

__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __
"Have you packed everything?" Severus asked, pulling on a black blazer. He didn't want to be freezing when they got back, but he didn’t want to be coated in sweat by the time they Apparated either.
"MmHm." Hermione twisted the sides of her hair into a barrette and clipped it closed.
Severus set his bag next to hers on the bed. "Are you sure you don't want to go see them one more time? I don't mind."
She shook her head. "I can't say goodbye again. It's too hard."
He nodded and pulled her close. "All right. Are we having lunch here?" They'd slept through breakfast.
"Sure. I'd like to see Gretchen and her husband."
They went downstairs, and Severus met Bartholomew. He was a burly fellow who looked as if he lived outdoors, his skin tan and leathery. Gretchen made them a meal fit for a king, and Snape got caught up on the local gossip. He didn't know anyone they were talking about, but he liked how friendly the couple was to Hermione. There was a parental vibe from them, which he suspected she needed more than the tiny room upstairs.
When it was time to go, Hermione hugged Gretchen and Bart goodbye. “I guess I’ll see you two in June.”
Gretchen squeezed her again. “Just send us an owl when you decide on a date. We love having you.”
Severus shook Bart’s hand. “It was nice meeting you. And,” he added quietly so Hermione wouldn't hear, “thank you for taking care of her all these years,”
Bart smiled. “No worries. You look after her when you get home.”
Severus nodded. I’m trying.
He shook hands with Gretchen too; she seemed tickled by something about him, but he couldn’t imagine what. That was the same smile Minerva had when she asked about his weekends; they seemed to know something about him that he had yet to discover.
Snape and Hermione said their last goodbyes and stepped out into the bright sunshine. The grey cat who had greeted their arrival was there to wish them farewell. They stepped over him, and he meowed at Hermione as if reminding her to have a safe trip.
They made their way back through the the busy streets, ducking into the protective cover of the woods at the edge of Castle Hill. It was a lovely afternoon, and Severus took a deep breath, getting one last hit of warm air. It was bound to be wet and miserable back home.
He checked his watch. It would be about six o'clock in the morning when they got to London. There was plenty he could get done before lunch happened again. Hermione had become too quiet, and he studied her from the corner of his eye as they followed the trail back to the Apparition point. "Are you all right?"
Hermione looked up and him and nodded. "I always feel as though I'm leaving them behind."
He took her hand. "I think you've done a better job than you realize."
It was kind of him to say so. But that didn't change the way she felt. They arrived at the clearing, and she wrapped her arm around his waist. "Do you want to do it, or do you want me to?"
He pulled her into his chest. "I'll do it. Hold on tight."
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, hiding her face. She couldn’t bear to see Australia vanish. Her parents were vanishing with it, and she felt the bond between them dissolving a little more with each departure.
The pressurization of Apparition cinched them into nothingness, and there was that moment of feeling as though she would never again take another breath; then they were popping into place down the road from her flat, and she gasped in a quiet inhale of relief as her lungs expanded. She looked around at the familiar alleyway and then up at Snape. There was hardly any light, and if she hadn't been holding onto him, she would have lost him in the dark.
He kept his arm around her as they made their way to her flat. It was bitterly cold. She'd put on a jumper before they left, but she wished she'd added her cloak. By the time they made it to her front door, she wanted to drown herself in hot cocoa and curl up in a steaming bath.
She unlocked the door, and he set down his bag next to the sofa. Good. He's staying. Hermione set her bag next to his. "Crookshanks, I'm home."
Severus took off his blazer while she brushed the flurries from her jumper and headed for the kitchen.
"Crookshanks," she called, spotting him sprawled out in his favorite square on the kitchen floor, where the sun hit first in the morning. "Did you miss me? I brought you some Australian cat treats. Gretchen says they shouldn't be too hard on your teeth." He didn't seem to care, not even lifting his head at the sound of her voice. "Crookshanks?" Hermione flipped on the kitchen light and stared at his still, orange body.
Severus heard her whisper "Crookshanks?" one last time, and knew from the change in her voice that something was wrong. In three long strides, he was at the kitchen door, arriving just in time to see her run for the sink and vomit up brunch. He looked at the motionless orange ball of fur on the floor, understanding instantly what had happened. Kneeling down, he touched one bottlebrush leg, just to be sure. Crooks was as cold as the linoleum. "I'm so sorry, Hermione."
It felt as though her stomach was turning inside out, her entire body flexing to expel the sick sorrow. She crossed her legs to avoid wetting herself with the next heave. Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax so the spasms in her belly didn't tear her apart. He touched her tensed back, lending her a soothing hand. Hermione closed her eyes and focused on the light stroking of his fingers. It took a few minutes, but her body finally gave up and unclenched.
Snape waited until she was breathing normally then quietly asked, "Do you have something we can put him in? A box perhaps?"
"There's a big empty box on my closet shelf," she whispered. Maybe if she didn't talk too loud it wouldn't be real.
Severus went to get it. He'd expected to find a cardboard box. Instead, he found a lightweight circular wooden box with a painting of a cat on it. It was the only box he could see. Taking it back to the kitchen, he held it up. "This one?"
She looked over and nodded. "I got it at a charity auction. I kept finding Crooks asleep in it."
Well he's going to be sleeping in it forever now. "Are you sure you want me to use it?"
She nodded.
Severus put his hand on her shoulder. "I'll take care of it."
"I can't look at him."
That was probably for the best. Kneeling down, Snape peeled her pet off the floor and curled his body into her kitty box. His own lunch wasn't feeling too settled at the moment. As head of Slytherin, he'd been witness to many a dead pet. Mice, rats, and toads he had no problems with. Anything bigger made him cringe. Happy Christmas, Hermione. I bet this is one holiday you’ll never forget. He couldn't leave her now. This would break her heart. One witch could only withstand so much emotional trauma in twenty-four hours. Putting the lid on the box, he took it to the front room so she wouldn't have to see it. "Okay. You can look now."
Hermione glanced back at the spot where Crooks had been. She'd never find him there again. That was his spot. She could still see an after burn of his image on the linoleum.
Snape pulled her into his arms. "What would you like to do? We could have him buried."
Hermione started to silently cry into his shirt. She didn't want to think about putting Crooks in the ground. Snape hugged her tighter and stroked her head. Something in her snapped, and she couldn't stop bawling. "He was all alone. I just left him here by himself."
Doing his best to calm her, Severus shook his head. "I don't think he suffered. His food bowl is still full. I think he waited for you to leave then came in here and went to sleep. He looked peaceful."
"I shouldn't have left him alone. I . . . I c-could have been here for him," she sobbed.
Severus kissed the top of her head. Her choked tears ripped through his heart. "Maybe he was waiting to be alone. Maybe he didn't want you to see him like that."
That actually did sound like something Crookshanks might do. Hermione clung to Snape's shirt, feeling completely out of control. Her world was falling apart. Everything she loved was slowly disappearing: her friends, her parents, her only companion.
"I have an idea," he whispered so quietly she had to calm further to hear him. "Let's take him to Hogwarts. I know Hagrid has buried several pets near his garden. I'm sure he wouldn't mind having Crookshanks. We can give him a proper send off with flowers and a nice stone marker. How does that sound?"
She nodded. "Are you going to be there?"
"Of course I'll be there. Why wouldn't I be there?"
"Everyone will see us together."
"They might. But I think Hagrid would keep our secret if we asked him to."
Hermione thought Hagrid would probably spill that secret if someone got enough alcohol in him, but she wasn't about to turn down Snape's offer. Crooks would be happy at Hogwarts. "Okay."
"If you pack some clothes, you could stay in my rooms for the rest of the holidays."
"Do you really want me to?"
He tipped up her face to look at him. "Yes, I do. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it."
"I can spend all Christmas with you?"
He smiled softly. "All Christmas."
She sniffled and nodded. "I'll go get some things."
"I'll wait in the other room. Take your time." He kissed her forehead and reluctantly released her.
She looked shaky and tired as she padded down the hall, and he kept one ear trained on her progress in case she started crying again. Snape glanced over her family photos while he waited, comparing the Grangers of the past with their current counterparts. Their carefree happiness was horrifying when you knew the fate that had yet to befall them. The girl in the felt reindeer antlers smiling at the camera had been lost somewhere along the way. He needed to do more to help her. Spanking and sex weren't enough. He wanted to see her smiling like that again.
He didn’t know if he had enough hugs to heal her heart. Maybe she needed more than that.
Maybe he did too.

A/N: 8/4/16
This chapter is now officially dedicated to my friend Desert_Sea. During the initial editing this chapter, I came upon her story, The Quickening, and was inspired to up my writing game. Although I am daunted by her mastery of words (and seemingly endless vocabulary), reading her stories makes me want to be a better writer. While I have many muses, DS is the only one who listens to my ramblings on writing and life; and for that, she deserves the highest honors. Thanks DS :)
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