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The Fantasy Book	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 44517 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 17
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- 19
A/N: With the encouragement of LadyxEmpire, I have managed to revisit this where I left it. Hopefully some more updates coming over the next week! Thanks for all your continued support and reviews, readers!

The bath water was pleasurably hot. It was strange; the large white porcelain tub. It wasn’t something she expected him to possess. She’d taken the time to procure one in his private hospital room but she supposed aside from her fantasies it didn’t really suit his character to have a Victorian style bathtub in his bathroom. Bathtubs of that caliber were designed for relaxation; for long luxurious bubbly soaks in searing hot water with scented candles and a water pillow. But there she sat; her knees tucked beneath her, unsure as to what exactly this fantasy would entail.

            Hermione stared at him; eyes alight with curiosity as he knelt beside the top. She frowned at first; he did not appear to be joining her in the deliciously hot water. With a wave of his hand over the water she watched in awe as bubbles filled the tub, the scent of a sweet warm wood wafting to her nostrils. His voice seemed to float to her from a distance and she noticed then that he had moved to the end of the tub; still kneeling outside it, only this time he was leaning on the edge. “Come here,” he called again and waited.

            She moved gently allowing her legs to unfurl from beneath her. The tub was long enough to accommodate her body fully stretched out and as she shifted until her head was close to where he rested. She was overwhelmed with the tempting notion to simply close her eyes and drift off into a peaceful slumber. The water was moving gently; swirling around as if being stirred. Her eyes were half-lidded as she leaned toward him.

            “Lean your head back,” he said; his lips close to her ear. Against the curved lip up the tub he had placed a soft pillow; shining as if it was composed of satin. She rested her neck back against it; a soft mewl of pleasure escaping her lips as she lay back in the bubbles. Severus reached his hands into the tub and cupped water between them. “Close your eyes…” he whispered and watched as Hermione’s eyes floated closed.

            Water cascaded gently over her head; soaking her hair. Again he poured a handful of water over her tresses and she reveled in the feeling of the hot water trickling through her hair; gliding over her scalp. The sensation of her tresses being lifted from off her neck felt stunning as his fingers threaded into her hair; nails moving lightly over her skin. She moaned; it felt exquisite. He was slowly massaging her scalp with each gentle stroke of his fingers; the shampoo bubbling and tingling in a pleasant manner.

            He was nearly sending her into a sensual overload coma with his titillating nails massaging her scalp, the warm bubbles dancing about her skin, the hot water soaking away the aches of the previous few hours, the sweet but heady scent of the wood wafting to her nostrils as she drifted lazily in and out of consciousness. It wasn’t until she felt the warm water cascading once more through her hair that she opened her eyes. He was still kneeling on the floor, leaning over the edge of the tub, gently stroking his fingers through her hair, rinsing the last bit of shampoo from her tresses.

            His face looked careworn as it had when she had sat with him day after day in the private hospital room. But it caused a slight smile to grace her lips watching the man concentrate as he smoothed his hands over her hair. The shampoo was long gone but she suspected he was enjoying the feeling. It was strange, but not unpleasant as she relaxed in the bathtub. “This is…nice…” she said with a slightly sloppy grin on her face.

            It was a rare but pleasurable sight as he returned the smile; though his was far more subtle. “The nicest sensual luxury a man can provide a woman…” his voice was idle as he continued to stroke her hair. “And you have always had lovely hair.”

            She couldn’t feel the blush in her cheek from the warmth of the water but noted that his smile grew just a little bit broader. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment but opened them when she felt his hand leave her hair. The loss of contact was an unpleasant sensation and responding with her baser senses she whimpered and sat upright. He chuckled; a low rumbling sound that reverberated through his chest; a warm welcoming sound as she noted the man stepping around to the side of the tub. She couldn’t recall if he’d bothered to redress before washing her hair or not, but he appeared now before her, naked as they had been in his bed. His legs were long and lean; sturdy muscular thighs supporting his body as he slowly lifted one leg up over the high edge of the tub and then the other.

            Severus sank down into the water with his knees at his chest, feet flat on the bottom of the tub. He nodded to her and then beckoned her forward with a simple gesture. Hermione shifted her body slightly and moved toward him. As she did he extended his legs filling the length of the tub and she found her body lay atop his; her head coming to rest on his chest. He leaned back against the edge of the tub and wrapped an arm around her back. “You fit as I imagined you would,” he said softly.

            “Hmm?” she asked, tilting her head up to gaze at him.

            “In my fantasy…” he said. “Lying like this with your head just so,” he brought his hand gently to the back of her head and titled her head ever so slightly so that she was resting against his pectoral muscle. This time she felt the blush creep into her cheek and did her best not to show it. “I may be a selfish lover, Hermione Granger, but I am a sensual pleaser. I find there is no greater thing a man can do for a woman than to please her senses, and often my…fantasies…involve such things,” he said but then quickly added. “That is not to say, however, that I do not have other fantasies that are of a more sexual nature.”

            “You are a man,” she murmured and felt her lips pull into a smile. Once again his hand was stroking idly through her hair. “You must let me return the favor…” she said, eyes fluttering open and closed as she rested against his chest.

            “You’ve returned quit enough favors for one night, I do believe,” he said.

            She did not argue. It had been a long encounter and the perils of sleep were beginning to claim her; aided by the hot water, the warm and comfortable chest beneath her head and the slow rhythmic heartbeat now echoing against her ear. It was more than she could ever have hoped for; ending up in his arms in such a manner, and to find out that the idea had been his. She prayed desperately that it was not some dream she would wake from only to be greeted with disappointment and her last thoughts before the notion of slumber claimed her for its own were of how she would thank the man with one of her milder fantasies.

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The Fantasy Book