In an Alternate Universe

Chapter 14 ~ The Tree

Hermione turned, walked over to her bare dresser, created a small glass vase and put the rose in it with a bit of water. Then she turned.

”Shit!” she cried.

Severus had moved behind her and was almost right on top of her, startling the witch. Mere inches away, he looked at her, heat in his black eyes.

”Mr. Snape! Must you intrude on my personal space like this?” she said to the wizard, pushing at his chest.

He didn’t budge.

“Yes,” he said, licking his lips. “I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

Hermione sighed as the boy leaned toward her.

”All right, Mr. Snape . . .just . . . mmmmph!”

Severus latched on to her mouth like a Blood-sucking Niflick, wrapping his arms around Hermione and kissing her hard, his body pressing into hers hungrily. She could feel the hardness and length of his cock pushing against her pelvis as the young wizard hung on, attempting to bend her back over the dresser.

Gah! She couldn’t breathe!

Desperately, she pinched his side and Severus yelped, releasing her mouth but still holding on to her body. Gods, she was so round and . . .

”Severus. Snape! I do breathe air and my lips are made of flesh, not wood!” she gasped at him. “I refuse to walk around Hogwarts looking as if I had too much muggle Botox injected into my lips! Stop kissing me so hard!” she snapped at him.

”I’m . . . I’m sorry. I usually kiss better than this. It’s just that it’s you,” he breathed at her passionately. “Let me try again, please.”

His eyes were so desperate, Hermione gave in. Gods, were all young wizards so passionate? Well, this was his first time after all. He was a male, not a female. He wouldn’t be a shy and retiring virgin.

“Go ahead, Mr. Snape. But gently. Gently,” she said, closing her eyes and pursing her lips.

She waited and nothing happened, though she could feel the wizard breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling against her breasts. Hermione opened one eye.

He was staring at her.

”What?” she snapped at him, irritated by this waste of time.

”Could you say it again?” he asked her breathlessly.

She scowled at him.

”Say what?” she asked him.

”My name. You said my name. Severus. It sounded . . . wonderful to hear you say that,” he responded. “Please call me by my name, Professor. Not Mr. Snape.”

Hermione blinked at him.

”Well, if I do this, I don’t expect you to be so familiar. This might be an intimate situation, but we are not actually that intimate,” the witch responded.

”I’ll keep calling you Professor if you like, but please call me by my name,” he said to her.

“All right. Severus,” she said, and the wizard once again attacked her mouth, but much more gently, working his lips against hers sensuously. He really did know how to kiss as his grip relaxed somewhat as if realizing she wasn’t going to break away from him.

His young body moved against hers helplessly as he drank in her lips, his senses whirling. She smelled like flowers. Like Jasmine. And she was so soft, so round, so full . . . not like the young witches who felt as if they’d break in his arms. Gods, he wanted to get closer. Tentatively, he attempted to slip his tongue into Hermione’s mouth, tapping it on her closed lips. He felt them part slightly and his breathing increased as he entered that warm, wet sweet place, exploring it. He began to shudder against her, unable to hide the urgency his body felt.

Hermione was a bit impressed. Severus was a very good kisser and his ardor was becoming a bit contagious. She felt his hand slide up her back. He couldn’t feel her scars because she wore both the nightie and the house robe still. Well, he would have to feel them and see them sometime.

Maybe they would turn him off.

Hermione felt a bit of a twinge at this possibilty. The tree on her back was a large deterrent to her becoming intimate with anyone. She had been through hell, but was a strong enough woman not to let it destroy her completely. She knew not all men were brutes and could separate true attraction from soulless possession. Still, that ugly mass of scars that followed her spine and spread branches across her upper back marred her body, which already wasn’t perfect. She was certain that any potential lover would be revolted by that tree. If Severus was revolted, she’d let him go . . . but . . . that would be confirmation that she was a ruined witch. That Voldemort had truly left his mark.

“Your house robe . . . take it off,” Severus said against her mouth, “I want to touch you, Professor.”

He certainly knew what he wanted. Hermione decided to let him run with this. It wasn’t completely terrible now that he had some modicum of control, though she could feel him shaking a bit.

“Let me go,” she said softly.

Severus released her, stepping back a few inches, watching her hands as she untie the sash to her robe and opened it, revealing the Slytherin green nightie that fell mid-thigh, held up by thin straps over her shoulders. She did have large breasts, and her hips were rounded, her waist a bit thick. Her legs were very shapely and strong looking.

The young wizard let out a noise when she removed the robe and laid it on the dresser. Hermione looked at him as he fastened his eyes to her body. The expression on his face was one of . . . awe.

”You’re beautiful,” Severus breathed, “You don’t look like you’d break.”

Break?

”I’m no teenage witch, Mr. . .Severus. I’m not nubile, or thin . . .” she began.

”No, but that’s good. You’re a real woman,” he replied, cutting her off as he looked into her eyes. “I don’t have to worry with you. You’re not going to cry or push me away or . . .” he said, his soft voice quavering a bit.

Hermione couldn’t help but be moved by the young wizard’s appreciation of her. It came from his heart. These were no empty words meant to win her over. It was truly how he felt. Of course, everything he said was in relation to his own desires, but still it was clear he believed that she was everything that he wanted in a witch. Who, even a snarky Potions mistress wouldn’t find that affecting?

Hermione caught herself however.

”I will be pushing you away if you do anything untoward, Severus,” she said to the young wizard.

Severus had no idea what she meant by untoward as he moved in again, pulling her soft body against his, letting out something between a groan and a whimper as he felt the thin cloth between them. He could feel the heat of the witch’s body now, the curves of it clearly. He kissed her again, hungrily, sliding his hands up her back . . .

He stiffened. So did Hermione as he felt the scars underneath the thin silk.

He released her, stepping back.

”Turn around,” he said to her in a low voice.

Hermione looked up at him and said nothing. Let the boy see her marks, her shame. She turned around almost insolently, listening to him breathe.

Severus’ black eyes looked at the few branches that rose above the fabric of Hermione’s night gown. Raised welts, obviously from a scourge. The wizard stepped closer and Hermione closed her eyes as she felt him gently catch hold of her straps and lower them down her arms as far as they would go, revealing the head of the tree and all it’s branches. Severus pulled her night gown down to the small of her back, taking in the thick mass that made up the trunk of the tree.

He didn’t say anything and Hermione’s eyes began to glisten helplessly as the first male in ages looked upon her ruined body.

”Still want to shag your Professor?” she suddenly snapped, pain in her voice as she stood facing away from him. “As I said, I’m no lovely young thing. I’ve been marked. Scarred. Not the ‘beautiful body’ you fantasized about is it?”

Severus could hear her bitterness.

What had she gone through all those years of service? What kind of monster would do this to a witch? He scowled blackly.

”I wish we could kill Voldemort again,” he said softly, his voice full of quiet rage, “But this time, I’d want to do it myself. Kill him slowly and painfully for doing this to you, Professor. But, you’re still beautiful . . . even more so because you didn’t run from this. You continued in your service until the end. It isn’t a mass of scars, but a testament to how brave, selfless and courageous you truly are. Trees represent new life and rebirth. Overcoming death and growing stronger. That’s you, Professor and you are beautiful, believe me.”

Hermione blinked back tears as the young wizard gently moved into her back, wrapping his arms around her waist and tenderly kissing her naked shoulders, moving to her throat for a moment, his mouth soft, warm, appreciative on her skin.

”Beautiful,” he breathed, his warm breath curling against her ear.

And that was the breaking point for Hermione Granger, the point where the ice around her heart and the walls around her spirit crumbled. Of course they would be erected again, but tonight, just for one night . . . she was vulnerable to this passionate young wizard whispering in her ear.

She wanted to believe him.

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A/N: :::ducking and dodging readers’ barbs and arrows::: Hey, I know. But it’s the romantic in me. Female porn is a lot different than male porn. We need stuff like this. I know I do. Plus, I have to give Hermione a reason to be receptive to an inexperienced young wizard. That can’t be rushed. I hope you’ll still stick with me. Thanks for reading.