Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
A/N: Thank you for the reviews! I cackle like a lunatic at your suggestions, and I really wish there was a way I could reply to you all! Anyone that is still being affected by the hurricane, you are in my thoughts and well wishes. Things are still a mess in New York, and of course we got snow. Which I am now being forced out into by He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named (le fiance). I just want my tea and computer! Is that so wrong? Anyway, hope you enjoy!! ;)

Hermione leaned back from the table and hurriedly covered her mouth, trying to hide the yawn that she was about to release from escaping. Mrs Weasley had a gimlet eye when it came to them all, and the last thing she wanted the matriarch to do was ask why Hermione looked so knackered.

A meeting for the Order had been held the next afternoon at Grimmaud Place. Lunch was prepared and eaten in a rush, and the younger wizards had been sent out of the room. As was expected, Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny weren't allowed to attend, and had to occupy themselves while the adults holed themselves down in the kitchen. Bill, Fred, and George were also present, although the twins preferred to stay upstairs with everyone else, taking great joy out of bedeviling Hermione and Ginny.

"So how are things with the git?" Fred cheerfully asked, speaking of Professor Snape. "Has he tried to hex you lot yet?"

The frowning Potions master had come out of his room for the meeting, only appearing right as the others were finishing up their meal. Mrs Weasley politely greeted Snape, while the others gave him some semblance of a muttered greeting. He still maintained little contact as possible with the group, something that no one complained about. His dark eyes never once strayed in Hermione's direction as she filed past him out of the kitchen, although she expected that.

"Terrible," Ron grumbled, still thinking of the day when the professor showed face and came down to the kitchen, nearly making him spit twice from fright. The tall redhead, who was still sulking from being chastised the day before, furtively glanced over at Hermione. She seemed to be a bit tired yet in a better mood that morning, but he was doing his best to not say something to send her over the edge again.

"I can't believe I'm actually saying this," Harry cut in, "but not that bad, to be honest. Snape doesn't really come out unless Mrs Black's portrait starts yelling her head off. So long as we try to tiptoe around the damned thing, we don't see him all that much."

"Harry's right," Hermione added. "It's actually been quiet around here; too quiet sometimes."

"Yeah, well, if I have to take stark silence and boredom over that bellyaching portrait, then give me the silence," Ron added.

"Ahh, should have told us sooner," George grinned. "Freddie and I would have sent over some entertainment for you lot!"

Ginny shook her head, laughing because she knew just what sort of 'entertainment' her brother meant. "Because the one thing they really need are Wildfire Whiz-Bangs."

"Hey sis, don't knock it till you try it," Fred replied. "We were actually working on some new WonderWitch products. Shame, Hermione, you could've been a tester for us. That way if anything went wrong, at least you'd have been in the house where no one could see you."

"Gee, thanks Fred," she said dubiously. "Normally I'd jump at the opportunity to play guinea pig for you and George, but I think it best if I sit this round out."

"You sound as if you don't trust us, Hermione," George offered with a cheeky grin. "If something were to happen, it's not as if it would last. When have we ever steered you wrong?"

"You don't really expect me to answer that, do you?"

"Hmm...maybe not."

Ron, Harry, and Ginny began laughing, all of them thinking back to when they'd each fallen victim to the twins' pranks. For the most part, all of their products had been harmless, and at times helpful, as they'd used the Puking Pastilles to their advantage on more than one occasion. Even so, with no ingredients on hand with which to make necessary antidotes for any mishaps, Hermione definitely refused to test out any Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products.

"Oh, sorry," Hermione apologised as she let out another yawn. "I think I need a nap."

"What did you do, stay up all night reading?" Ron sniggered, rolling over onto his side. He was a few inches away from Hermione on the floor in the drawing room and she stretched a leg out, nudging him in the shoulder with the tip of her trainer.

The truth was, Hermione woke up during the night when she felt Severus clutch onto her breast in the midst of sleep. At first she wondered if he was awake, judging by the way his fingertips lazily plucked and pinched at her nipple. She then knew he was definitely awake when his growing erection began pressing into her behind. Daringly she'd pushed her hips back against him, further encouraged when Severus lifted her leg to drape it over his thigh. Long fingers probed and teased her folds before he placed the tip of his cock at her entrance and slowly made his way into her body.

Hermione remembered that she had been quiet at first, her hastened breathing the only thing giving away their activities. The new position with them spooned together felt different, but when Severus' hips began churning a slow rhythm against her, his shaft rubbing and dragging along each sensitive spot, Hermione had been unable to hold back her moans of pleasure. Quickly she reached her peak, easily coming to another one when Severus directed her hand between her legs, telling Hermione to touch herself while he fucked her.

The feel of his warm breath tickling the back of her neck, her fingers stroking her clitoris coupled with his leisurely thrusting had nearly been too much, and Hermione had to bite down on her pillow to keep from outright screaming. She barely came back into herself when Severus shifted her over and pushed flat on her back. He had then hastily climbed on top of her, throwing both her legs over his shoulders before plunging back into her body. He rode the young witch relentlessly, and even though Hermione begged him to stop for a moment so she could catch her breath, Severus kept going.

By the time he finally erupted inside a trembling Hermione and lowered her legs onto the mattress, her entire body went limp and she promptly fell asleep, completely oblivious to the wet spot beneath her, or the twisted sheets around both ankles. Hours later when Hermione felt herself being shaken out of her slumber, the bed was dry and she was neatly covered with the duvet. The time had been earlier that when she usually left Severus' room, but he stated that the others were coming to Grimmauld Place that afternoon and that she needed to leave.

Hermione had felt like hell warmed over, and wanted nothing more than to curl back up against Severus and pull the duvet over her head, but knew that she had to go back to her own room. Of course, Harry and Ron hadn't noticed the fatigue on their friend's face, or if they had, didn't mention it. Hermione chalked up their unawareness to them ignoring her as a result of her attitude from the day before.

Her snippy mood was definitely gone, and she surmised that Severus literally shagged every bad feeling out of her body, but having been taken so vigorously made her want to sleep for another few hours. However, the relaxed sensation she now felt definitely outweighed her previous tense, anxiety-riddled one.

But to her chagrin, and sust as Hermione expected, sleeping on wet hair left her with an almost completely matted bun atop her head. The task of combing the knots out of her tangled curls that morning had been lengthy and arduous; even so, that still hadn't made her cross.

A loud shriek from Ginny suddenly cut through the room, and Hermione looked over to see George suppressing a grin, even though it was evident that he'd done something to his sister.

"Behave!" Ginny fussed, smoothing back her ruffled red hair. "They've been like this all week," she explained to a curious looking Harry and Hermione. Ron was unaffected by the unannounced cry, as he was used to his brothers' antics.

"Aww, Ginny, don't be like that," Fred called. He'd taken a small bottle from George, and was brandishing it in his sister's direction. "We need someone to test this out on; it won't hurt!"

"No! Last time I tried one of your potions, my hair turned pink!"

"Fine, be that way," George sniffed, pretending to be hurt. His face pulled back into a smile as he looked in Hermione's direction. "Say, Hermione-"

"Oh no, you don't!" she protested, jumping up to run out of the drawing room.

She was too slow for both wizards and George headed her off at the pass, wrapping both his long arms around her frame as Fred approached the two with the now uncorked bottle. Hermione shrieked and kicked her legs, forcefully trying to get away from the mischievous twins.

"All that fuss; I only wanted to put a little bit on the ends of one small section of your hair!" Fred explained, as if his statement was perfectly justified. "And it won't turn candy floss pink like Ginny's; at least, I don't think so. George tweaked the ingredients a bit."

Fred then paused, cocking his head to the side and holding the small blue bottle up in front of his face, scrutinizing its label.

"If you two don't let me go, I'm going to scream the house down and tell Mrs Weasley what you're up to," Hermione threatened, her nostrils flaring as she stared at a grinning Fred. George was also chuckling behind her, shaking her slightly from the movement.

"Sure you don't want to be our tester?" George asked, his voice full of mirth by her ear. "If everything goes according to plan, we'll be raking in the Galleons and we'll even offer you a bit, you know, something like royalties. Or a consolation prize."

"The only consoling I want is for you to let go of me!" Hermione shrieked.

Ron and Harry were laughing uncontrollably at the irritated look on their friends face, glad that they were no longer the ones on the receiving end of Hermione's wrath. Ginny was also giggling, happy to have her brother's attention diverted elsewhere.

"Mrs Wea-!" Hermione opened her mouth to bellow, only for George to clap one hand across her lips.

"Ssh!" he hissed. "Do you want Mum to kill us?"

"Hrmmmm!" Hermione, who was still unable to talk, buzzed angrily, and continued to thrash against George's forearm.

"Just a little..." Fred murmured, holding the filled dropper in one hand and reaching out to undo Hermione's ponytail with the other. "Oi! Ow, Hermione!" he bellowed when she kicked out again, her blue trainer covered foot catching him clear in the knee.

Hermione then kicked backwards, causing George to loosen his grasp and nearly drop her to the floor.

"You idiots!" she yelled, snatching her hair grip out of Fred's hand and securing her curls back. "Have you lost your minds?! I ought to-"

Hermione was cut short when Fred began laughing at her, sweeping her up and planting a kiss on her cheek, at the same time George tugged on her hair, making the newly placed hair grip become dislodged again.

She had just opened her mouth to scream when to her intense horror, Severus, of all people, was making his way past the drawing room, travelling cloak on over his black suit and billowing behind him. He paused for a moment, his obsidian eyes coolly sweeping over the group of carousing teens before continuing on down the hall, where the front door then slammed shut.

Damn, Hermione swore inwardly, feeling contrite as if she'd done something wrong. She was sure that Severus noticed the twins teasing her, what was sure to most definitely look ike flirting. Still, no matter how innocent their attention might be, Hermione distinctly got the idea that the older wizard hadn't been pleased. Of course, his face always made him look as if he were in a perpetual bad mood, no doubt exacerbated by the Order meeting which he had been forced to attend. Now that he'd left the house, plus factoring in that everyone else still around, Hermione was mad that she didn't have the opportunity to go after him.

Still quietly seething, Hermione stomped over to Ginny and flopped down next to her on the sofa, paying no attention to the fact that she'd jostled Harry in the process.

"Alright?" he turned to ask her, his green eyes round with mirth.

"Yes," she gritted out between clenched teeth.

After Hermione kept glaring at the twins, the two made sure to keep their antics to a minimum, at least where they concerned the bushy-haired witch. The only thing that put Hermione back in an agreeable mood was when Bill and Mrs Weasley came into the drawing room, Mr Weasley soon trailing behind, all three of them bearing sizeable brown paper-wrapped bundles.

"Your school books," Mrs Weasley announced. "That's all of them; you can go put them in your trucks," she continued, checking the names on each parcel before handing them out.

Ron grumbled loudly as he took his books from his father. Harry and Ginny didn't give much fuss, while Hermione was the only one to grin widely as if she'd just been handed a winning lottery ticket.

"Thank goodness," Hermione said, plopping down cross-legged on the drawing room floor and arranging the books in front of her. "I was going round the bend with nothing new to read." She then proceeded to tear off the paper and pull each book into her lap, eagerly rifling through the pages before tossing it down and moving onto the next.

"Mad, she is, going barmy over a stupid book," Ron grumbled, casting his to the side as if they had done him a great injustice. "Still wish we'd been able to go to Diagon Alley; it would have been nice to get out and about."

"Have you forgotten about what happened last time we let you three go out?" Mrs Weasley sharply scolded, putting both hands on her wide hips and dressing down her son with her eyes. "The whole point of you staying here is to remain safe. It's bad enough that we're letting you stay here on your own."

"Not on our own," Ron corrected. "We've been putting up with that git, Snape."

"Professor Snape, Ron," Mr Weasley told his son. "And he's doing us all a favour by staying here with you three. Poor Remus; things are getting harder and harder for him with each full moon. He finally let Tonks stick around for longer than an hour to help sort him out."

Hermione's ears perked up slightly at the mention of her old professor and the clumsy pink-haired witch. Good for Tonks, she thought. It had been obvious that Tonks fancied Lupin, but the older wizard seemed slow to catch on. Finally he noticed the young Auror and perhaps she would be able to put a smile on his usually weary, scratched-up face.

Disquieted for the remained of the Weasleys' visit, Hermione found that she was anxious for their departure. She knew that Severus still hadn't returned, as she overheard his name mentioned in conversation between the adults.

With both parents as well as Fred and George around, Ginny and Harry didn't dare skulk off to one of their more private spots in the house. The group remained in the drawing room, only leaving once to go down to the kitchen for dinner.

Fred and George left directly after the meal was done, stating that they needed to tend to some business. George kissed his mum on the cheek in an attempt to dodge the questions that immediately arose.

Time continued to trickle by, and when it began getting late, Mrs Weasley fretted about leaving Grimmauld Place. She only capitulated to returning back to the Burrow when Ron rolled his eyes and fussed that he wasn't a child, Mr Weasley at her ear also stating that the three would be fine.

Hermione couldn't believe that Mrs Weasley was telling them to get to bed while putting her coat on, as if they were still eleven-year-old children. They went upstairs anyway after telling Mr and Mrs Weasley goodnight.

Glaring at Ron and warning him to stay away from the bathroom, the redhead threw up his hands in defeat and made a grand gesture of showing Hermione that he was on the way to his bedroom. Hermione narrowed her eyes and watched as he continued on down the hallway before going into her room to collect her belongings.

Thirty minutes later, she was bathed and in her nightgown, curled up in bed with her new Arithmancy textbook. Heaving a gusty sigh, Hermione found that her focus was no greater than it had been when the house was brimming over with people. The sharp silence now merely served to agitate her further, as she continued to worry over Severus' lengthy absence.

Unless he'd come in and she hadn't heard him.

Snatching her bathrobe off from the foot of her bed and slipping into it, Hermione rose and shoved her feet into her slippers. Wand in hand, she then cracked her bedroom door open, checking to see if the hallway was clear. Gingerly stepping out, Hermione thought about going up to knock on Severus' door.

Not surprised to find that the room was empty, Hermione heard a snuffling noise at the other end of the completely darkened hallway, and it was enough to make her turn on her heel and flee downstairs. Inwardly cursing Kreacher, Hermione held out a trembling hand to light the hearth in the drawing room while simultaneously falling onto the sofa.

She felt like an idiot for running from the house-elf, but she hadn't expected for him to be lurking about at the top floor. Although, Hermione remembered how she nearly fell over him the other day, also what Severus told her running through her mind, both of which put her on edge.

Even so, thoughts of the enigma of a wizard not yet returned to Grimmauld Place made her stay put in the drawing room. Keeping her wand close by, Hermione huddled beneath her bathrobe. She lie flat on the sofa, slowly becoming mesmerized by the sight of the orange and yellow flames licking at the wood in the hearth, until she was lulled to sleep.

Curling herself into a tight ball, Hermione reluctantly opened her eyes only when she realized that she was freezing. The fire in the hearth had burned out, and as she slowly came out of her stupor, Hermione's eyes adjusted to the dim lightening, as she remembered that she had fallen asleep in a drawing room.

It was obvious that Severus hadn't returned, as he would have had to pass her on the way into the house, unless he chose to ignore Hermione and had gone straight to bed. Resignedly telling herself to go to her own bed, Hermione pushed herself upright and froze, the breath startled out of her when she caught a glimpse of two glowing eyes a few feet away from her in the darkened room.

Kreacher.

Damn! Hermione panicked. She knew he was only a house-elf, alright, a malicious house-elf, yet one that managed to come to heel only when Harry was present. Of course, the green-eyed wizard was far away from the drawing room, most likely snoring his head off at the moment.

Hermione instantly forgot about being cold. She saw was unable to think nor speak, frozen to her place on the sofa cushions when the gleaming eyes, which were the only part visible of the house-elf, began moving closer. Her heart thudded fiercely enough and Hermione knew she was about to become sick all over herself.

Right then a solitary sibilant hiss cut through the darkness, followed by what appeared to be sparks from a wand being brandished. Kreacher cursed and asserted something unintelligible under his breath, but the sound of him shuffling away was evident.

Swallowing thickly, Hermione fought to catch her breath, relief coursing throughout her body yet making her tremble in the process.

"Little fool," a livid yet blessedly welcomed voice snapped next to her. A glimmer of pale white light suddenly illuminated the drawing room, revealing the visage of an incensed Severus Snape. On top of looking furious, the wizard had a grisly appearance, as if he'd had a horrendous evening.

"Granger, you have all the sense of a Troll!" Snape continued to berate, his gaunt features twisted with anger. "You know that damned elf has it out for you; what the devil do you mean by lurking about down here on your own?"

Snape's wand was still drawn, although he now held it low in front of him and Hermione was glad that she couldn't see the outraged look on his face. Hermione hadn't forgotten about Kreacher; how could she? But a state of worriment was what kept her tethered to the drawing room, in hopes that the professor would soon return to Grimmauld Place. She had a gut feeling that something wasn't right, and on top of it all, Severus looking completely put out with her at that moment. He also definitely looked as if he'd been put through the ringer.

"I-I was worried about you," she admitted, suddenly feeling very self-conscious as the wizard glared down at her. Hermione felt small and kept her head lowered, as if she'd done something wrong. It was true that her heart had been in the right place, even if her brain had temporarily gone astray.

She found herself staring at the folded edge of Snape's travelling cloak before venturing a peek at his face, which was still mostly concealed by the dark shadows. Looking back down, her brown eyes honed in on his wand hand, only then taking in the way it was trembling slightly. Now that she felt at ease, Hermione saw that Snape's entire frame was shaky, as if he were on the verge of collapse.

Hermione definitely felt horrible at that point. Snape could barely stand on his own two feet yet he'd made it into Grimmauld Place, just in time to keep Kreacher from doing whatever it had been that he was planning. Rooting around for her own wand, Hermione held it up and was floored by the sight before her. Snape was ashen-faced, and his black hair clung limply to his head as if he'd been sweating profusely. His suit and cloak didn't detract from his appearance, as he looked positively wraith-like swaddled in the voluminous black.

Hesitantly reaching out to touch Snape's wrist, Hermione was shocked to find that his skin was cold to the touch. Her fingers curled around his wrist, trying to make him sit down on the sofa, only for the wizard to remain standing.

"Sir, you're freezing," she needlessly pointed out, lowering her wand and rubbing her fingers along his hand to emphasize her point.

"I'm well aware," he stiffly replied, keeping a firm hold on his still lit wand that was now close to Hermione's face.

"Then why don't you rest here for a minute, and I'll relight the hearth."

"Why don't you go to bed, Miss Granger? I'm sure cavorting with the redheaded duo took a lot out of you."

Is he serious? Hermione asked herself, all but throwing her hands up in exasperation. She knew that Severus had a disposition to behave the role of the consummate curmudgeon, his behavior increased by tenfold each time he was hurt. But from the little bit that she could see in the dark, it didn't appear that Severus was bleeding or otherwise injured, yet she was unable to deny the troubled look upon his haggard and drawn features.

"Fred and George didn't mean anything. It was a bit of harmless fun on their part, even if it made me want to smack them both," she continued dismissively.

Severus merely grunted in reply, and Hermione wondered if he was actually jealous. Knowing better than to get into a row with the difficult man, Hermione rose from the sofa, her hand still on Severus' wrist. He never flinched when she pushed his wand arm down, afterwards the soft white light fading into nothingness.

Severus remained silent as Hermione extinguished the light on her wand. He was, in fact, exhausted and ached from head to toe. His meeting with the Dark Lord and the rest of the Death Eaters had been mild, relatively speaking compared to past gatherings, yet still managed to still strain his already worn out body. If it were possible, it seemed that even his nails and hair were screaming in agony.

Still, for some unknown reason, Snape tried to brush off how he truly felt, not wanting Hermione to gather the extent of his distress. However, he did allow her to gently prod him out of the drawing room and up the staircase. The young witch quietly trailed behind, never once offering commentary when he paused to steady himself against the banister. If she felt him trembling when she moved closer against him, Hermione gave away nothing.

"My room is closer," she offered in a hushed tone once they reached the landing.

Her room was closer, Snape had to admit, as he didn't relish the thought of climbing another set of steps to his bedroom. He looked and felt like hell; that much was obvious if he was allowing Hermione to help him without much remonstration.

Once they were inside Hermione's bedroom, the curly-haired witch rushed to move a thick book off her bed and ushered the grimacing wizard to lie down. The soft mattress was a reprieve, and Snape gratefully allowed his weary limbs to sink down and become enveloped. He noticed from the off that Hermione's delicate and familiar scent was embedded into the duvet and pillows, something he found comforting.

Snape had just closed his bloodshot eyes when he felt a soft hand brushing across his forehead, wiping some of the moisture away. He felt hot and cold at once, perspiration making his clothes stick to his sore skin.

His ears focused on the gentle footsteps of the witch as she moved around the room; Snape soon felt a gentle heat drifting towards the bed, and knew that she'd lit the hearth. He had never been one that liked a fire at full blaze, yet it was mild enough to not stifle him more than he already was.

Careful hands removed his boots, socks, then moving onto the clasp of his travelling cloak that was still secured at his neck. Hermione was obviously trying to not put all of her weight on the distressed man, and she perched awkwardly by his side on the bed, next tackling the many buttons on his frock coat, as well as the snugly tied silken cravat.

It took a long time for her to carefully unfasten the neck adornment, and Severus would have chuckled had he not been so worn out when he heard the witch huffing in frustration as she tried to work out the complicated knot. Hermione finally worked her way down to Severus' damp linen shirt, undoing the last button when she needed him to move to pull everything from his upper body.

His eyes shot open when he suddenly felt her small hand against his, trying to remove the wand that had remained in his tight grasp the entire time. Black orbs pierced into reassuring brown ones, and soon his long fingers loosened their hold from around the polished ebony length of wood.

"You can have it back once I'm finished," Hermione told him, placing his wand next to hers on the nightstand. "I just need to get you out of these wet clothes."

Snape glared at her, yet allowed the tenacious witch to continue with disrobing him, wincing when he shifted his weight to allow her to remove the shirt, frock coat, and the dangling length of unwound cravat. His torso was damp and the warm air in the room would have been comforting, only it was a bit too bracing for comfort.

Hermione took her time trying to remove Severus' trousers, lifting his slender legs just high enough to pull to them off. A gentle warmth suddenly washed over him as Hermione cast a simple drying charm to whisk the moisture off his skin. Without uttering a word, he allowed her to draw the sheet and duvet up to his heaving chest.

"I don't have anything stronger than paracetamol, but I'll get it if you like."

Silence.

"Severus?"

"It's not likely to help. Nothing but time is going to help this."

Snape's breathing was labored from still being in pain. Hermione also heard the bitterness coloring his voice and felt utterly useless. She kept her eyes on his face as sat down, wishing that there was something she could do, yet not knowing what to do with herself.

"I didn't intend to put you out of your bed," he commented in a gravelly voice, barely able to turn his head to look at Hermione. She had taken a seat in the armchair across from the bed and was curled up on the cushions, looking as if she planned on spending the night there.

"You need the bed more than me," she replied. "And besides, I don't want to hurt you."

Severus gave a rarely heard wry laugh, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "I'm not as fragile as you believe. I won't shatter if you lie next to me."

Hermione took that as in indirect invitation to join him. Standing up, she moved closer to the bed, thinking twice before slipping the nightgown over her head. She was still hesitant as she lifted the edge of the duvet, cautiously moving into place beside Severus. His eyes were closed again, looking as if he were well on his way to sleep.

"You're still freezing; do you need me to turn up the fire?" Hermione asked, recoiling slightly when the feel of his icy skin clashed with her heated body.

"No, thank you," he answered abruptly. Perhaps too abruptly, as Hermione instantly fell silent, thinking that she'd aggravated the wizard. Severus knew that he was being more snappish than usual and felt a tinge of guilt for taking it out on Hermione, especially considering that she was once again helping him.

Even though he was feeling poorly, Snape had to admit that Hermione's naked, warmed skin felt soothing against his aching bones. Up until then he'd continued trembling, his tremors only ceasing after a few minutes of the soft witch being partially draped over him.

Hermione's head had been resting away from his shoulder, but she found that keeping her distance was difficult. Shyly, she moved in until her lips were an inch away from Severus' goose fleshed bicep. Hermione reasoned that Severus didn't pull away, either because he was still in pain, or unless he truly didn't mind the closeness. Either way, she rested her cheek against his pallid chest, slipping an arm around his thin torso. She then stretched her legs out alongside his, brushing her toes against the tops of his cold feet.

Snape found himself in no position to complain. Hermione's delicate frame felt quite cosy against him, and she didn't seem to mind his sharp joints pressing into her sensitive flesh.

As was habit, the always guarded wizard wanted to do many things, at the top of his list questioning, yet again, why the young witch was selflessly offering her succor. The baser part of his makeup wanted to turn Hermione over, tug her knickers off and bury himself into her softness. That second option was definitely out, as he was unable to so much as move a finger without wanting to scream. Still, Snape was tempted alone by Hermione's breasts, which were mashed against his chest from the witch lying on her stomach.

"Better?" she asked, her voice sounding muffled against his skin.

Severus gave a small hum of approval, although he remained still when Hermione further draped her body over his. Settling herself with her head next to his on the pillow, Severus felt a small rush when her lips brushed against his cheek.

Whatever this thing was between him and Hermione, Severus knew it wouldn't last. There were too many variables, the biggest two consisting of the ever-growing turmoil in the Wizarding world that would undoubtedly come to a head, the second being the undeniable fact that the young witch was still his student.

Even so, the feel of Hermione's body curved around his was comforting. Snape had finally become somewhat accustomed to the witch snuggling up to him. It now seemed a bit silly that he had once been discomforted by the close interaction.

Right then Hermione shifted her weight, and her naked back touched Snape's hand. He didn't realise that he'd placed an arm around Hermione until his fingertips skimmed her spine. His hand splayed across her back just as she began rubbing his chest, which managed to melt the remaining tension in his body.

Snape would never admit to Hermione just how much he enjoyed being close to her. He knew it was futile to linger over the thought of them staying in bed together for hours on end, with her messy curls spilling into his face and crook of his neck, and her single, gentle hand slowly moved over the ridges of his protruding rib cage. Still, the idea was a pleasant one, something that was rare in his life.

Hermione continued touching Severus as if she was mesmerized by the feel of him beneath her fingertips. Although his skin was now dry and finally a bit warmer, the scent of clean sweat and a second one that she still couldn't identify remained.

Sliding her hand up, Hermione idly traced over the angular curve of Severus' shoulder, curving her fingers around his wiry bicep and lightly massaging the area. The wizard grew pliable and more relaxed beneath her touch, his breathing finally evening out.

Without so many words being spoken, Hermione knew why Severus was in pain, just like she knew where he'd disappeared to for much of his day. She honestly didn't feel the need to know all the details and it was just as well; Severus wouldn't have told her anyway. It still didn't negate the fact that she felt properly contrite seeing him, once again, in a complete state of disarray.

It wasn't fair. Snape couldn't be all that bad, even if he said himself that he was. Hermione refused to believe it. True, the man might be self-servicing in his own way, and it wasn't as if she could blame him, but even if Snape wanted to disagree, there was still a noble part of him, even if it was rarely displayed.

Even though Severus was allowing her to touch him freely, Hermione hoped that he wouldn't make her stop. It seemed as if he needed the contact as much as she wanted it. Bringing her hand up to the side of his face, Hermione traced along the deep lines of stress etched into his features, sweeping her fingertips over his brow, nose, and lips.

She continued nuzzling closer until her face was on the other side of his. More to comfort than anything, Hermione placed a trail of feather light kisses along Severus' cheek, down to the underside of his jaw. Her fingers were now embedded in the lank black hair that was splayed out against her pillow.

Severus' jaw went slack when Hermione began lightly running her fingernails against his scalp. His hair smelled slightly musty, most likely from perspiring earlier when the lank black strands were sticking to his head. Hermione didn't care, and continued running her fingers through his hair, relieved when she felt Severus exhale deeply against her.

Deciding that she wanted more, while telling herself that she had to take it easy, Hermione slowly moved over Severus, chastely touching her lips to his. He didn't respond to the small pecks at first, and Hermione thought her advances weren't welcomed. Then one hand came up and languidly clutched onto a fistful of curls, intent on keeping Hermione's face close to his. Hermione's hand was also still buried in Severus' hair, her fingers carding through the slick tresses as she took her time moving her mouth against his.

Hermione had just kissed a path from Severus' chin, down the underside of his jaw when his arms came around her waist. Without a word he tugged on her, obviously wanting Hermione to move up. The bed sheets rustled softly as she moved about beneath them, coming to a rest once she was hovered over Severus' face.

Slender hands curved around both her breasts, cupping and kneading the soft flesh, running both palms over each sensitive peaks. Hermione moaned softly when Severus lifted his head slightly to lave his warm tongue over her nipple. Supporting her weight on both outstretched arms and lowering herself to make him lie back on the pillow, Hermione pushed more of her breast against Severus' mouth.

The wizard wasn't biased; he took his time kissing and licking each one until Hermione's nipples were two stiff points. The soft contact alone had her writhing against him, and soon she was rubbing her knickers covered core against his also cotton covered erection.

It hadn't taken much for Hermione to become excited. She knew that she should let Severus rest, but it seemed as if sleep was also the last thing on his mind. His dark eyes told her yes when she silently questioned him. Severus then found himself focused on the top of Hermione's curly head as she shuffled about beneath the duvet, her hands carefully slipping his underpants off his hips and down his legs, before doing the same with her knickers.

Hermione then repositioned the duvet over them both as she straddled Severus' hips, allowing his erection to nestle snugly between her folds. Just then she realized that Severus had usually taken the lead, and that left her feeling intimidated.

"Tell me what to do," Hermione urged, sounding unsure of herself.

"I need to be inside of you first," Severus told her in a patient voice.

Even though Hermione was also self-conscious about the fact that Severus had his eyes open, able to see everything with her sitting astride him, she tried to push past her nervousness. Leaning forward and placing one hand on his chest, she used the other to position him at her entrance, slowly moving into place.

Hermione tried to muffle her gasp of discomfort when Severus bottomed out within her. It felt as if the tip of his cock was trying to press all the way past her walls, and it made her insides cramp slightly. Lifting up to alleviate the intense feeling, Hermione rest both hands on Severus' chest and remain still.

"I just need a moment," she explained, her features still crumpled into a faint grimace. Severus seemed to understand and didn't rush her. Instead, his dark eyes were focused on Hermione's breasts, which only served to make her feel even more on display.

When Hermione felt ready to try again, she rocked her hips against Severus, trying to gain the pleasurable friction that she was used to. It took a few more exploratory attempts before Hermione began moving in a somewhat smooth and fruitful rhythm.

It felt good; not as good as when Severus was dominant, but it was good enough. In the back of Hermione's mind, she felt a bit irritated by the distraction of her breasts jumping about with her every movement. It seemed ridiculous to worry about that now, especially knowing that Severus had already seen, touched, and tasted every part of her body.

Her bashfulness was short lived when he reached down and spanned her waist with both hands, bending both knees and leaving his feet flat on the bed, smoothly rolling his hips up against hers. Hermione immediately threw back her head, biting down on her lip to keep the loud cry from resonating throughout her room.

Skillful, insistent hands continued moving her to Severus' will; Hermione was pushed around and thrust up into until she forgot her own name. It took every bit of her self control to not scream out when shortly after she dissolved into shudders.

When she finally came down, Severus pulled Hermione to lie flat against his chest. After guiding her head to his neck he moved his arms to the middle of her back. Hermione briefly pondered over why Severus had strategically placed her so, until he began moving inside her again. Even though she had been trying to contain her moans, she wasn't that successful at doing so, as her voice was getting louder every other minute.

Severus was moving much slower than he preferred, but perhaps it was better as Hermione soon caught onto the rhythm and moved her hips in tandem with his, pushing back to meet each of his deep thrusts.

A slow measure of push and pull had the two trembling against one another. Becoming rapidly caught up in everything, Hermione made it known that she wanted to be kissed, and planted her lips against Severus'. She now moved against him of her own volition, in complete disbelief at how utterly sensual and gratifying the feel of Severus gliding into her body was. It still hurt a bit when she moved down too far, but otherwise his cock touched and rubbed into every sensitive spot on her walls, and it sent tingles up and down her spine. Lost to the pleasure washing over her body, Hermione's hips continued rocking and gyrating, each movement becoming more frantic when she neared orgasm again.

Even though the only sounds in the room consisted of the crackling fireplace, Severus' deep breathing and Hermione's little gasps and moans, both were thinking that neither wanted that moment to end. Besides the feel of Severus inside her, Hermione enjoyed the way his arms were around her, unable to get enough of his soft, hesitant kisses. Severus also took no issue with both arms full of a soft, warm and completely naked Hermione. Also being deeply embedded in her snug, heated channel was nothing short of bliss for the wizard.

With Hermione's hands now on either side of his pillow, Severus could hear her fists pulling at the fabric, and it pleased him to know that he was able to make her become so unraveled. Whenever their kiss momentarily broke, he looked up into her passion-riddled face, noting the way Hermione's brow stayed knitted together, or the way her lips kept parting, right before her teeth bit into the bottom one to stifle her uncontrollable moans.

It was nearly his undoing when Hermione began chanting his name, over and over in a quiet tone of desperation. Suddenly her breath hitched, and her moans culminated to a high-pitched wail. Without second-guessing, Severus grabbed onto Hermione's hair and forced her face back to his, slipping his tongue into her gaped mouth.

If his limbs still ached, Severus paid it no mind. The most pressing matter at that moment was to make Hermione come apart around him again. Her tight walls continued to perfectly grip and tug his shaft. Her initial shyness had completely dissolved, and was now replaced with a raw, frantic ardor that was completely free of artifice.

Severus strongly suspected that Hermione was unaware of the way she was now begging and pleading for him to not stop. The young witch was completely distracted to remember that she was supposed to be kissing him, her senses honing in on the one thing that was driving her to the brink of climax.

Just as he thrust up into her one last time, Hermione had placed her lips back over his, only for her screams to become lost in the warm cavern of his mouth. Severus even found it difficult to contain his deep groans. The two clung tightly to one another, both trembling as Hermione's walls convulsed about his pulsating shaft.

Hermione was the first to fall slack against the wizard. His deflating erection was still tucked inside her body, yet she made no moves to change that. She continued breathily heavily against the side of Severus' neck, able to feel her heart still pounding away.

Severus' labored breathing was lost to the disarray of Hermione's curls, yet he was too knackered to bother pushing the errant strands away from his face. Thankfully Hermione had the forethought to do so, and shifted the entire mass back over one shoulder. He felt completely wrung out, as if the young witch had milked every last drop from his body when her muscles clamped down on him.

"More effective than your paracetamol; would you agree?" he asked after a while, making Hermione weakly laugh.

"I think so," she yawned, nestling her head back down on his chest.

Severus' arms were still around the increasingly drowsy witch, his fingertips languidly stroking the back of her neck. Hermione was asleep long before Severus, and missed the soft kiss he pressed into the top of her head.
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Unintentional Inveiglement