Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

...After Happily Ever After	By : Lissa & snowblind12 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 25757 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with Harry Potter or J.K. Rowling. I make no money off of these stories. This is just fun for me.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Chapter Sixteen
December 1998
“Miss Granger.” The cool, detached voice of the Head of Slytherin filtered through the room. “I think you need to focus on the task at hand.”
She wasn’t fooled with his cold demeanor, she knew that he was delving into her thoughts which were adamantly replaying their fucking session from the night before – purposely messing with his head as she replayed every nip, and suck, and stroke from her point of view with the utmost care. Which was probably why he was sitting behind his desk. It was also most likely why he had put his teaching robes back on over his frock coat. She successfully kept the smirk off her face. “Yes, sir.”
She straightened in her chair and redoubled her focus on the Dreamless Sleep they were brewing for Madame Pomphrey’s stores. Well, Lizzie was pretty much doing all the work, which she did feel a little guilty about. She didn’t miss the sour look Ron threw at her over his shoulder, she gave him a small, friendly smile. She was trying very hard to keep the peace with him.
“Where are we?” She murmured under her breath and Lizzie snorted at her.
“Step six.” She hissed back. “Are you going to return to your daydream or can I get you to powder some asphodel petals and grab some essence of nettle from the store room? We’re both out.”
“Yes, of course.” She threw some dried asphodel petals into her mortar and quickly ground them into powder. “Here’s this, I’ll be right back.”
She moved between the desks efficiently, knowing right where she was going. She never noticed Snape quietly move through the room to follow her with an evil glint in his eye. She almost shrieked when she turned around to find him blocking the door for the store room. She glanced behind him to see everyone focused on their work. He muttered an incantation she didn’t recognize and a silencing charm and lunged at her. “Professor!” She squealed softly as he devoured her lips. “Someone will see,” she protested.
“No one will see, anyone that looks will see us talking through the open door.” He argued as his lips trailed a fiery line along her jaw.
“You’ve lost your mind!” She laughed, trying to set the jar of nettle down. He took it from her quivering fingers and placed it down without incident all the while maintaining contact with the column of her ivory throat. She groaned and wrapped her arms around his middle, not sure if she wanted to pull him closer or push him away. She was feeling instantly light headed. He pulled her firmly to his chest and returned to her mouth, she sighed against his lips and melted into the hard planes of his chest. The kiss became more tender and less insistent. Memories from the previous night making her ardor glow. He caressed her back lightly through her robes and she smoothed her hands delicately over his chest, loving the way his skin trembled beneath her touch. “You’re making me mental,” she breathed, trying to press every inch of herself against him.
“You throwing images at me of everything we did last night while I’m trying to teach is making me mental.” He growled in her ear, nipping the sensitive lobe. “Besides, I love making you crazy.”
She whimpered in her throat and then sighed, tilting her head back in abandon as he lapped the tingling hallow of her throat. “Ah,” she breathed, palming up his back and dipping her head back to him as his lips nipped across a shoulder. “Oh, gods. Severus. I love you,” she whispered, running her teeth along the underside of his jaw. She said it without thinking. Said it without meaning to. She had been thinking it for days, weeks even, always making sure she kept it away from the forefront of her mind when she knew he liked to slip in and look from time to time. She’d been so careful with the sentiment that she could hardly believe it slipped out unintentionally. She knew he wasn’t ready to hear it. She was mortified. More so when he stiffened perceptively.
Instead of responding with something…anything, he pulled abruptly away from her, leaving Hermione breathless with embarrassment, her arms outstretched as if she were still holding him. A cold feeling tingled down her spine. He didn’t look at her as he mumbled something about getting back to class before they were missed as he exited the cupboard before her, the enchantment on the doorway broken. All she could do was nod stiffly and find her way back to her desk, face blazing and hands shaking.
“Where’s the nettle?” Lizzie griped when she settled back into her seat, trembling.
“Oh,” Hermione was dismayed. Her shock was such she’d left the damn jar of nettle in the stores. “I’m sorry Lizzie,” she whispered, trying to keep tears at bay. She watched as the girl huffed and stormed off to the cupboard. I will not cry, I did nothing wrong. I didn’t deserve that reaction even if it was a surprise. I can’t believe I told him I love him. What was I thinking? It’s too soon, he’s going to think I’m some silly little girl who throws declarations of love around like flower petals during a bridal procession. Oh. My. God. Why the hell am I thinking about weddings? She dropped her face into her palms, stifling a horrified sob that threatened to break free. She had been too vulnerable lately, her emotions bubbling too near the surface.
“Hey!” Lizzie had just got back from the store room. “Hermione, what’s the matter?” She kept her voice low, but both Ron and Harry turned in their seats to look at her, concern on both their faces.
“I-I’m, sorry,” she muttered, air starting to hitch in her chest, eyes widening in realization a panic attack was fast approaching. “I, I have to go.” She raised her voice. “Professor?”
“Miss Granger?” Snape’s voice was low, cold. It only made her want to cry more. Was it really so terrible to be told that you are loved?
“May I please be excused?” Her voice trembled with every syllable and many of her classmates turned to look at her with surprise. Malfoy even looked up with some semblance of concern on his face.
There was a long pause where Hermione dared to look up, keeping her hands up to hide her face as best she could. Snape was erasing the board manually, something he never did, his back to her.
“Is your potion complete?”
Lizzie quickly tossed in the nettle and nodded at Hermione, eyes wide with concern. “Yes, sir.” The sob hitched in her throat, her stomach clenching as if it was going to eject her lunch that was just barely digesting. She had to get out of there, now. Or she was going to explode. “Please, sir,” She pleaded after about thirty solid seconds of silence, tears spilling hot.
What have I done, what have I done. Oh, my God. She sucked in a slow breath, trying to keep the cloying alarm at bay. Why wasn’t he answering her? He’s probably more shocked then you are, give him a moment. The longer he took, the more freaked she started to feel – so much so she knew she was going to have a full-blown panic attack. She leapt from her seat, not bothering to grab her things, and made a beeline straight for his office door to disappear into her chambers – without his permission.
“Miss Granger, that will be a detention.” She paused in shock at the door, no longer able to breathe. The panic of the moment clawing at her insides, her all-encompassing grief form the last month only fueling the fire.
Hermione’s eyes flew to meet his and her heart shattered at the look on his face. It was guarded, eyes blazing with an emotion she didn’t understand…almost distrustful. Did he think she had lied to him? More white hot tears streaked her face. “I’ll take the detention, sir.” She gasped out with no feeling and pushed into his office and through the door to her bedchamber…the one she had only been in once. She locked, warded, and put a silencing charm on the door behind her and threw herself face down on her bed, allowing the dam to burst completely. Instead of sounds, a high-pitched keen broke through with barely any force behind it. She was suffocating. She couldn’t breathe. Tears tracked wetly down her cheeks and she rolled to her back, attempting to force her racing mind to slow, instructing herself to pull in a breath. It wouldn’t come, and blackness engulfed her.
Lizzie exchanged guarded glances with Harry and Ron through the remaining fifteen minutes of class. Their teacher looked…quite upset. Hermione had been so frantic to escape that she had taken a detention in order to flee. Why Snape hadn’t given her permission when she was obviously so distraught pegged her as a bit cruel. It was obvious something happened, but she hadn’t seen them anywhere near each other the entire double period.
“Sir?” Lizzie questioned, raising her hand.
“Miss Williams?” Snape returned, not looking at her. That was odd in and of itself.
“I’m concerned about Hermione, may I please check on her?”
“No.”
Lizzie did a double take, attempting to make eye contact with him. He deliberately avoided her gaze. Ron growled under his breath, his worry rising tenfold. Lizzie gave him a look to keep quiet, but Snape had already heard.
“Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley,” he drawled. Then addressed the class. “If you are cleaned up, you are dismissed.”
Lizzie bolted to his office door. “Where do you think you’re going, Miss Williams?” Snape demanded.
“You said if our things were put away we could leave.” She spun and glared at him, keeping one hand on his office door. “I want to check on my friend, she was upset.”
“I will check on Miss Granger as soon as everyone has cleared out.” His tone left no room for argument. “Leave her things,” he said baldly when she started packing up Hermione’s bag.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Lizzie snarled. The class gasped as a collective whole and Draco actually straightened and looked like he was about to put himself between the little blonde and the deathly glare their professor was giving her.
“Fifty points from Hufflepuff, Miss Williams, and a week of detentions, I think.”
Lizzie was so angry, she was shaking visibly. Ron and Harry quickly flanked the girl and grabbed her things, dragging her from the room before any more damage could be done. Harry threw a reproachful glare over his shoulder at the oblivious Potions Master. While all this was taking place, most of the room cleared out. Draco being the only one left in his room. He stared at his Godfather incomprehensively.
“Good day, Draco,” he snarled, indicating he wanted the boy to leave.
“Sir, are you really going to check on Granger? If not…I-I could?” Snape raised an incredulous eyebrow at him, and Draco hastily threw his bag on his shoulders. “Or…not,” he muttered and scooted quickly out the room.
Snape sat down heavily at his desk, the stress of the last fifteen minutes causing his hands to shake. What was she playing at? Severus. I love you. What the bloody fuck! Women didn’t fall in love with Severus Snape. Ever. He had thirty-seven years to test that theory – it hadn’t proved false until this moment. Suddenly, the weight of what had truly just conspired slammed into him and he groaned, dropping his head into his fists. Severus. I love you. He had pulled away. Severus. I love you. Left her the moment she expressed something that made him uncomfortable. He’d given her a bloody detention when her devastation to his reaction had overwhelmed her. Severus. I love you. She’d had her arms around him, had been nipping his jaw, making him crazy with want for her. She had been caught up in a moment and had been unguarded and vulnerable with him…Severus. I love you…and he had all but attacked her. Because he was bloody terrified of her. Him. The man who had single handedly duped the greatest dark wizard known to man. Him. The man who had played a double agent for over sixteen years. Him. The man who had beat death by the sweat on his teeth. Terrified of a nineteen-year-old girl with big brown eyes, soft, perfect lips, and the dulcet Earthiness of a wood nymph.
And instead of returning her affection – which he had longed to do for weeks now – he had shattered her heart in seconds with no words at all. What was worse – he wasn’t anywhere near ready to try and fix it.
Hermione came to and was extremely disoriented. It was pitch black in the room and her heart instantly leapt with fear. Feeling for her wand, which she was grateful to find in the pocket of her robes, she muttered, “Lumos.”
The tip of her wand glowed a bright white-blue and she aimed it around the room. Oh. She was in her chambers off Snape’s office. Then the afternoon came back to her and a fresh wave of horror washed over her. She bit her bottom lip and let the pain of it help ground her. When the panic she had felt ebbing up her throat was stifled, she sat up slowly.
“Incendio.” She shot a flame into the grate of the beautiful ornate fire place, realizing it was the first time a fire had been lit in it. She directed her wand at the candelabras and they blazed to life, warming the small room. Setting down her wand, she scrubbed her face with the heels of her hands before checking her watch, it was well after dinner. She was bloody starving. Quietly, she crossed her room and cracked her door. Much to her relief, Snape was not at his desk, she opened it more widely to notice her book bag and things were sitting on the opposite side. She grabbed them and tossed them into her room. She then cautiously peeked out his already ajar office door, the classroom was empty. She quickly sprinted back into her room, grabbed her wand, doused all fire, and literally ran into the corridor.
Hermione was relieved to make it out of the dungeons without seeing him. She cut across the great hall to the kitchens to pilfer a snack and then headed up to her Head Girl chambers. She took a long hot shower, not able to help the tears she cried while the hot water washed away her tension and cleared her mind. What was she supposed to do now? Tell him she wouldn’t say it again until he was ready? Ask him to forget it happened? What if he pushed her away permanently? The thought made her nauseous. He was the best thing in her life. She truly was in love with him.
She cleaned her teeth meticulously and dabbed some moisturizer on her face after wiping the steam from her mirror with the palm of her hand. She inspected herself critically. Her wide eyes looked tired, the purple rings underneath made her look older than her nineteen years. Her lips were turned down. Her freckles stood out more prominently as her skin was far too pale. Her cheeks bones seemed higher and more distinct. Her hair was dripping from the shower, the ringlets pulled to waves with the weight of the water. She removed the towel from herself to study her body. She had yet to regain the weight she had lost in the wake of her parent’s deaths. Her collar bones stood out pronounced. She could count four ribs on each side and her hip bones jutted sharply against the plane of her belly. If she was honest with herself, she was probably too thin, but she had to admit that she liked the way her collar bones stood out, she had always thought collar bones were sexy. She sighed.
She knew Severus desired her. The power of being able to turn him on left her heady sometimes. Why she was scrutinizing herself so much left her feeling a bit bewildered. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and used her wand to dry her hair.
Knowing he had left for rounds at seven, she decided it was probably best to get back to the dungeon. Perhaps she would light a fire in his room and study while she waited for him. They obviously needed to talk.
Quickly dressing in her night things and then donning her school robe, she gathered her clothes for the next day. Just as she was about to pull open her door, there was a knock. Her heart leapt into her throat in anticipation, but she was disappointed when she opened the door to find Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Lizzie behind it.
“Hermione!” Harry exclaimed, pushing past her.
“Are you okay?” Lizzie embraced her friend tightly while Ginny and Ron slipped into the room behind her.
“What happened this afternoon?” Ron demanded.
Hermione looked at her four closest friends with watery eyes, grateful for their concern, but knowing she was nowhere near ready to discuss what happened. Instead, she gave them a brief answer.
“Severus and I had a row,” she said carefully. “It’ll be okay, I was just really overwhelmed and needed to get out of there before I broke down completely in front of the entire class.”
Four sets of eyes bore into her disbelievingly. “You were super upset,” Lizzie said quietly. “Snape was angry. He took fifty points from Hufflepuff and gave me a week worth of detentions because I asked to check in on you.”
Hermione was flabbergasted. “I’ll talk to him, that wasn’t fair.”
“No, it was,” Ron let out a dry laugh. “Pretty sure she said something along that lines of what the hell is the matter with you when he refused to let her go.”
Hermione gaped at the blonde.
“Hermione,” Harry spoke quietly for the first time since he greeted her at the door. “He gave you a detention because you asked to be excused and when he didn’t answer you, you fled. Everyone in the class could tell you were upset. I’m sure most people thought you were having an emotional moment in light of everything you’ve been through the past month, but … well. Hermione, what happened?”
Hermione searched her best friend’s eyes before sighing.
“I’m just not ready to talk about it. I’ll tell you after we’ve had a chance to work things out. I’m going to head back down there now. He’ll be back from rounds around eleven. I have some studying to do, anyhow. I pretty much slept the rest of the afternoon and evening away,” she neglected to tell them she had passed out while having a panic attack.
“You want me to walk with you?” Lizzie asked.
“No,” Hermione shook her head. “I just need to be alone for a while. To…process.”
Her friends, while reluctant, finally agreed, all giving her hugs before leaving the room and heading to their respective dorms. Hermione locked up room and started back towards the dungeons. She arrived without meeting anyone. He’d left a fire blazing in the hearth in his office. She turned to his room, determined to wait for him so they could talk, but stopped cold. A piece of parchment was pinned to his door, his thick, bold handwriting clear.
Miss Granger,
I will ward your door when I come back from rounds. Have a pleasant evening.
Professor Snape
“No,” she whispered, breath catching in her throat. She reached out and tried the handle. It was locked. She pulled out her want. “Alohomora.” It stayed locked. She took two steps back in shock, not wanting to believe. He was shutting her out.
No panic this time, just grief. She fell to her knees, hand still resting on the locked handle of his chamber door. This isn’t happening.
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...After Happily Ever After