Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Broken Dreams	By : onecelestialbeing Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 34536 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I make no money from this story, own nothing of Harry Potter, haven't met any of the people (except Alan Rickman and sadly that was brief)

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
Hermione and Severus had barely gotten through the back door of her house, when Midnight streaked across the room in a dark blur, attempting to squeeze past their legs and run out into the garden. Severus set Hermione's trunk to the side, bending down and easily scooped up the wriggling ball of black fur. He tucked the writhing kitten into the crook of his elbow while Hermione firmly latched the door.

"This cat's wayward temperament is perfectly aligned with yours," Severus told her, walking into the living room and settling down in the armchair. He plunked the black kitten on his knee, one slender finger scratching the top of his furry head. Hermione turned to scowl at Severus, raising an eyebrow when she saw Midnight's outstretched head leaning appreciatively towards the caressing hand.

"And you say I spoil him," she mumbled, tossing her traveling cloak down on the sofa and walking into the kitchen. Taking a quick inventory of meager ingredients in the fridge and pantry, Hermione walked back to living room, taking up her traveling cloak and using her wand to transfigure into a Muggle-style jacket.

"I don't have a single thing to make your cake with, or anything else for that matter," she told Severus. "I have to pop out to the shops for a minute; would you like to come with? Or do you prefer to stay here?"

Severus gave a quick snort, still stroking Midnight's head and not budging an inch from the armchair. "I'm perfectly at ease right here, thank you."

"All right; I won't be long." Despite Severus being a half-blood wizard that had grown up in a Muggle neighborhood, Hermione figured he had his reasons for not wanting to come out with her. Either way she didn't mind; she could get the shopping over with and return home.

Thirty minutes later, Hermione returned home, her arms laden with bags. She had just unlocked and opened the door, her ears perked when she heard Severus' deep baritone uttering a rarely used swear word, seconds before Midnight came scampering in her direction, Severus thundering behind. He was clad in white shirtsleeves, black trousers and socks. The only thing missing was his frock coat and black teaching robes, and Severus would have looked just like he had each time he'd swept down the corridors at Hogwarts.

"Listen here, you furry little miscreant," he castigated in a firm voice, snatching Midnight up in one large hand and holding him in front of his face. "I wasn't put here to chase behind you all over creation. Now stay put before I petrify you into place!"

Hermione's eyes had gone wide with a mixture of shock and amusement, hearing Severus firmly chastise the kitten as if it was one of his students. Covering her mouth with one hand, she leaned against the wall, her shoulders shaking with suppressed, silent laughter.

"Every time your bloody cat hears the door, he goes running," he continued grumbling, placing the loudly mewing kitten on the floor. Midnight looked up at the glowering wizard before walking over to Hermione, immediately brushing up against her legs as if he was aware of his rebuke. Severus harrumphed, brusquely taking the bags out of Hermione's arms and stalking off to the kitchen.

"Meow!" Midnight cried plaintively, his blue eyes staring up at her.

"You've made Severus upset!" she hissed under her breath, giggling at the same time. "I'm not getting into trouble along with you," she laughed when he began batting his paws at her legs, beckoning to be picked up. Finally relenting when he refused to move from her feet, Hermione thought twice and carried Midnight upstairs. She found an old bin in her box room and tranfigured it into a scratching post, leaving the kitten behind to happily scratch away.

Hermione pulled her hair back and washed her hands, going downstairs to find Severus sitting in the living room with a book in hand. He briefly looked up, putting the tome down to ask if she needed help with anything. Hermione thanked Severus but told him she would be fine, and continued onward into the kitchen. She nearly laughed when she saw that he'd unpacked the shopping, leaving the paper bags in a stack to the side, all of her purchases place in neat piles on the marble countertop.

That was one thing that Hermione had always grudgingly accepted about Severus when she was a student; despite the disgusting, ominous looking things he kept in murky glass jars, his nature was fastidious as hers. In the Potions classroom, he always had everything laid out in an orderly and methodical fashion, never failing to soundly berate students that grabbed at things in a slapdash manner.

Efficiently moving about the kitchen, Hermione already had her cake in the oven and was standing at the hob. Deciding that she needed something a bit heartier than the salads and sandwiches she and Severus had eaten the day before as well as that afternoon, she'd purchased the makings for spaghetti carbonara. It was nearly done, and she began tossing leafy greens about for a rocket salad. Hermione had been so focused on her task, she didn't realize that Severus had walked into the kitchen and was quietly seated across from her.

"The cake should be done in another twenty minutes," she said, looking up from the bowl. Severus nodded, his dark eyes diligently focused on Hermione as she continued darting back and forth between the hob and the counter. The little kitchen was warm, mingling scents of parsley, garlic and chocolate filling the air and making his mouth water. He was even able to smell the delicate, vanilla aroma that exuded from Hermione's heated skin as she bustled past him. She was now stooped down and peering into the oven, seemingly unfazed by moving about beneath Severus's intense scrutiny.

"I can't remember the last time I've seen anyone cook without using magic," he mused, watching as Hermione closed the oven door and stood up. "Whenever I'm forced to cook for myself, I still reach for my wand."

"Well, this is the only way I've ever cooked," she replied, pulling a drawer open and rifling through it. "I actually tried using my wand once to crack open eggs, but got the shells mixed up with the yolk and it took me the longest to pick them out. After that, I stuck to the Muggle way."

Severus gave a snort, his head turning towards the oven when a little dinging sound rang out. Hermione slipped on an ugly pair of oven mitts that were covered with lurid embroidery, depicting what was supposed to be birds or berries, he couldn't tell, and opened the door to pull out two pans of rich, moist looking chocolate cake. "Once they finish cooling, I'll put the frosting on," she explained, testing them with a wooden pick to make sure that were baked all the way through, then sitting both pans on top of a rack.

Hermione went on to fix two plates of food, and Severus took them from her and carried them to the dining room. They had just settled down when she griped over not purchasing wine to go with their meal. Severus merely returned her lament with a smirk, using his wand to conjure two glasses and a bottle of deep, red liquid.

"Elf-made wine," he commented, filling both glasses halfway and pushing one towards Hermione. "It would be wise if you paced yourself," Severus continued after she took a tentative sip, followed by another larger one.

"This is delicious," she said, setting the glass down. "It's better than the stuff my parents used to drink."

"Yes, and if you continue drinking as if it's nothing more than water, you'll soon find yourself beneath this table."

"All right, Severus," Hermione murmured, rolling her eye yet taking one last sip before picking up her fork.

The two ate in relative silence, until both their plates were clean. Slowly but surely, the level of blood red liquid in the bottle had gone down, until it disappeared, leaving a completely buoyant feeling Hermione.

"Damn, I forgot about the cake," she swore in a sluggish voice. "I hope I can get it out of the pan without breaking it." Hermione evenly stood up from the table, her hand shooting out to hold onto the chair when she felt the multiple glasses of wine go to her head.

Severus had imbibed a slightly less amount than Hermione, yet was in complete control of his senses. Firewhisky was the only thing that rendered him completely pissed, and that was only after he'd overindulged. "What did I tell you, my little know-it-all? Didn't I say that the wine would put you on your arse?"

"Oh, why don't you bite it, Severus," Hermione shot back in an airy tone, shaking off her lightheadedness to begin the task of gathering up their dishes.

"At the rate you're going, I'll take you over my knee and do a lot more than just bite," he smoothly threatened, enjoying the way her mouth fell open. Still chuckling, Severus stood up and took the plates from Hermione's hands. "Something tells me you're going to drop these before you even make it to the door."

"I was not," she tartly replied, scornfully eyeing his full hands. "Obviously you're looking through one of Trelawney's cracked crystal balls."

Hermione was still grumbling as she followed a smirking Severus into the kitchen. "Seeing as how you're not in a fit state to hold so much as a spoon," he began after placing the dishes in the sink, "I think it best if I finish my own cake. Of course, it won't be the first time that I've had to sort out something that you were supposed to finish."

"Bugger off, Severus; I've got my wand. If I can brew potions that no one's ever heard of, I'm sure I can finish a cake without difficulty."

"Did you just tell me to bugger off, Miss Granger?"

Hermione answered Severus by quirking one eyebrow in his direction, at the same time picking her wand up from the countertop. "I believe so, Professor."

"You'll pay for that cheek later. In the meantime, settle down before you hex off your own toes." Severus deftly plucked Hermione's wands from her fingers, ignoring her protests as he shoved it into his pocket. He then rummaged in the fridge, finding the bowl of icing that she had mixed earlier and set inside to stiffen.

"Have you ever prepared a cake before?" Hermione asked flippantly, sitting down at the island and leaning forward on both elbows. Head propped up on both hands; her brown eyes were shining merrily at Severus, whom shot back one of his famous blank, lingering stares before turning to his cake.

"I wish I had a camera," she mused, tickled by the sight of Severus using his wand to place a thick layer of icing on one cake, before placing the second one on top. "I think my Dad had one lying about somewhere."

"Hermione, don't force me to bind you to your chair," Severus softly told her, his dark eyes focused down on the confection in front of him, as he masterfully moved his wand about, neatly covering the rest of the cake with the fluffy, chocolate icing.

"As if I'm daft enough to attempt something so foolish," Hermione retorted, still focused on Severus's gentle looking fingers holding onto the smooth, ebony wand. "I'd shift my weight just to get off this chair, and you'd take me down faster than I could utter out the P in Protego."

"How very clairvoyant of you, Madam Lush," Severus replied, his lip curled up in a faint smile. "Now if you'd be so kind, we'll need plates and forks. Mind that you don't break anything or knock over my cake. Between drinking all of my wine, you have the vacillating gait of a Cornish pixie."

Hermione reached across the counter, attempting to grab hold of the tip of her wand that was exposed from Severus' pocket. He instantly yanked it out of reach, quickly producing his own wand and painlessly rapping her across the knuckles with the handle. "Be a nice, little lush, Hermione. We still need those plates."

Pretending to scowl, Hermione uncurled from her position at the counter and climbed down from her chair. "You weren't complaining about my gait last night," she smirked, taking her leisurely time to walk over to an overhead cabinet, opening it and retrieving two dessert plates, "Or this morning, for that matter." She had just placed the plates, two forks and a cake knife down on the counter, when Severus grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him.

"Nor when you came apart, hovering over me with your thighs wrapped about my face," his husky voice murmured into Hermione's ear, causing a shudder to ripple through her body. Severus' fingers tightened marginally around the soft curve of her hip, before he released her with a low chuckle.

"That's not nice, Severus," she griped, her alcohol-clouded mind now flooded with memories of his talented tongue easily bringing forth her first oral induced orgasm. Hermione was completely oblivious to the fact that her breathing had suddenly grown heavy, as her fingers were tightly gripping onto Severus's forearm.

Severus was obviously deriving great pleasure at the sight of Hermione becoming so easily flustered, if the smirk on his face was an indication. "Then you should take heed of what comes out of those pert, little lips," he replied, removing her hand from his person. "Now sit down."

Hermione was still reeling as she perched on the edge of the stool. Severus cut two generous slices of the finished cake, placing it on the white ceramic plate and sliding it in front of her. "You know, I never thought I'd see you doing something so prosaic as frosting a cake," Hermione mulled, inhaling the rich scent of cocoa as she picked up a fork and took a small bite. "But I must say; this came out well."

Severus had taken his own bite and nodded in agreement. "And I'd never had anyone prepare a meal for me. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied with a shy smile. Hermione finished her cake, her brown eyes beginning to droop under the effects of the wine and robust meal.

"Go to bed, Hermione," Severus told her, positive that she was about to fall asleep right at the counter.

"But I have...I need to do the washing up," she replied in a slightly slurred voice.

"I've been known to handle the washing up before. Now go upstairs before you fall off that stool and crack your head open. I don't walk around with phials of Blood-Replenishing Potion on hand, and the sight of us Apparating to St. Mungo's would surely send the hens to a right state of blathering."

Hermione wanted to retort that she wasn't that pissed, and could stand up just fine on her own two feet. However, when she stepped down off the stool, only then did she realize the height of her incapacitation. "It doesn't count if no one knew that you did the washing up," she lofting replied with a yawn. Seeing the dark look on Severus' face, Hermione began making her way to the kitchen door. "All right, I'll go to bed," she conceded. "Thank you for tidying the kitchen.

"Yes, Hermione," he replied impatiently. "You're welcome, now go."

With a lazy smile, she turned around and ambled upstairs. Remembering that Midnight was still in the box room, Hermione opened the door to reveal the dimly lit space. Reckoning that her kitten was asleep when he didn't come out, she continued on to her bedroom.

Hermione had just stripped down to her knickers, and was in the midst of pulling on a soft t-shirt when she heard Severus' deep voice bellow out from the kitchen. Drunkenly snickering to herself, she guessed that a certain kitten had found his way out of the box room and to his favorite curmudgeonly wizard. The house fell silent after a minute, and Hermione flopped down on her bed, pulling the sheets over her legs and curling up on her side. She wanted to wait for Severus to come upstairs, yet found it difficult to keep her eyes open. Finally caving in, Hermione shut her eyes and buried her face in the pillow.

Hermione sighed in her sleep, turning over in bed to feel Severus lying next to her. Opening her eyes, she found him reclining against two pillows, shirtless and reading what looked like one of the books from her over cluttered shelf.

"Thank Merlin for small favors; I thought I was going to have to cast a charm to keep you from swallowing your own tongue," he commented dryly, lowering his book and peering over at Hermione. "It nearly sounded as if you were being asphyxiated in your sleep."

Her lips slowly stretched into a smile when Severus reached over and cupped her face with one warm, slightly calloused hand. Closing her eyes, Hermione sleepily nuzzled against the contact, kissing the palm of his hand. "You were the one that conjured up the wine," she murmured, gravitating towards his warm side and pressing her feet against his legs.

"Yes, but it was you that took it upon yourself to quaff down nearly the entire bottle- even after I suggested that you slow down."

Hermione gave a yawn, pushing Severus' arm out of her way so that she was able to rest her head on his chest. "Says the wizard that Apparated to my house, utterly reeking of firewhisky," she replied listlessly, her face now firmly pressed against his pale skin.

Severus gave Hermione's behind a light slap through the bed sheets. "Go back to sleep, my plastered little swot." Too knackered to protest, Hermione closed her eyes when she felt Severus dislodge his arm from behind her head and drape it round her shoulders. He used the other hand to balance the book on his chest, and Hermione easily dropped back off to sleep, soothed by the sound of pages being turned.

Shivering slightly in her sleep, Hermione tried curling up in an attempt to get warm. Cool air brushed across her torso, and without opening her eyes she blindly groped around to pull the sheets back over her body. It was that moment she became conscious of a slight weight upon her, the sensation of a moist, warmth enveloping her right breast.

Opening her eyes, she saw that it was still early. The sun had barely begun to rise, and her bedroom was covered in a haze of blue. Her mind still muddled with sleep, Hermione shifted to see the top of Severus' inky colored head darting about beneath her chin, his arm next to her face and his body partially curled over hers. She had been completely immersed in slumber when Severus pushed the soft material of her shirt up to bare her breasts to his gaze.

Softly shuddering at the feel of her nipple growing erect beneath Severus' swirling tongue, Hermione let out a quiet moan when his long fingers curled around the swell of her other breast and began gently kneading it.

Hermione was still weighted down and completely relaxed from her sleep, and Severus was able to easily coax her into a lull state of arousal. Quietly whimpering out her pleasure, her little fingers clumsily attempted to pull him closer. Somewhat appeased when his mouth began nipping and sucking at her nipples more voraciously, Hermione found that it was merely augmenting, yet not alleviating the throbbing that had suddenly started between her legs.

Undulating her hips against Severus, Hermione hoped that it was enough to convey where she wanted to be touched. When his hands remained above her waist, her fingers curled around the sturdy wrist that lay next to her face, futilely trying to tug it out of place.

Hermione let out an impatient huff when he refused to budge. It was a curious thing to feel completely weightless, while at the same time feeling as if every nerve ending was slowly being set aflame. The rise and fall of her hips never stopped; their motion growing more frantic and uneasy.

"Severus," Hermione quietly moaned, thrashing about and tangling the sheets beneath her. Severus shifted his weight to settle between Hermione's thighs, angling his body to keep his erection from brushing against the seat of her thin, cotton knickers. Her legs immediately came around his waist, locking them at the ankle while trying to pull him closer.

Severus maneuvered further down Hermione's body, his erection pressing into the mattress. She seemed to know that he was purposely thwarting her efforts, as her feet continued digging into his lower back, urging him to move into place. Prodding Hermione to sit up, she rose just enough to allow Severus to pull off the shirt that was bunched over her breasts. Soon as she fell back onto the pillows, her arms came around his neck, eager for him to continue.

Murmuring nonsensically, Hermione arched into Severus' warm hands, enjoying the way his fingers gently pinched at both stiffened nipples while his mouth lavished attention upon her neck. Her hips still fervidly rocked up against him, only making purchase with his stomach.

Hermione's heavy breathing filled the room, mingled with the rustling sounds of her thrashing against the bed. The seat of her knickers was damp, and her blood was racing. Clenching her legs around Severus, Hermione made one last attempt to press her body into his, when his mouth traveled down from her neck and back to her breasts.

A soft yelp erupted from her mouth when his long fingers tugged on one nipple, his teeth lightly sinking into the other. The pressure was just short of pain, yet it sent a jolt straight to the pit of her stomach, turning the low pulsation between her legs up a notch. Severus was about to pull back, thinking that Hermione cried out in pain, when her hands came down on his shoulders, desperately urging him closer. Pressing her head back in the pillow and baring her throat, Hermione's moans grew louder the more those skillful fingers plucked and pinched at her sensitive nipples.

The little prickling sensation of Severus' teeth gently capturing the other one was enough to throw her over the precipice. A feral scream tore from Hermione's mouth as she bucked and writhed beneath Severus, her fingers and toes curled up as her limbs firmly ensnared his slender form. When the last shudders of her orgasm dissolved, Hermione lay completely spent. Despite being unable to lift her legs or hips, Severus hooked his fingers beneath the elastic of her knickers and easily tugged them down and off her body.

Slowly coming to, Hermione tried to wrap her head around the fact that Severus had just made her come by merely stimulating her breasts. Her musing had been cut short when he pulled her against him, rolling them both over and positioning her body to straddle his hips. Hermione suspected that she'd grown wet, but hadn't realized the extent of it until Severus positioned his erection between her folds, easily slipping into her body.

Hissing at the sensation of being slowly penetrated, Hermione placed her hands on Severus' chest, her hair falling over her face when she looked down at him. Even through the opaque, blue light of her bedroom, she hadn't missed the glint of desire in his dark eyes. Wordlessly, Severus reached one hand up, pulling Hermione's head down to possessively kiss her. His hips simultaneously began a slow rolling, causing his cock to slide deeply within her snug heat, rubbing against her walls in a most delicious way.

Severus' lips muffled the first few moans that uncontrollably came from Hermione, until she lifted her head and moved, trying to redistribute her weight. Settling her arms on either side of his head, Hermione lowered her head to kiss him again, nearly smothering her face with his curls. Using one hand to gather the unruly mass in his fist, Severus plundered his tongue into Hermione's mouth, gently dueling with hers. He thrust up into her again, easily withdrawing another groan of pleasure.

Releasing her curls to cascade down over one shoulder, Severus placed his hands on Hermione's hips, guiding her to steadily rock against him. When her rhythm matched his, Severus glided his hands up to Hermione's breasts, cupping the warm swells. He'd slowed his thrusting, opting to let her find her own pleasure.

Without Severus pushing back inside of her, Hermione found that the sensation was less intense. Eager to find relief, her hips rocked and swirled more fervently, intently focused on the tumescent length filling and stretching her. In a fit of lust, Hermione grinded down a bit harder than before, her eyes widening when she felt his Severus' cock bottoming out. He let out a deep groan at her movements, and feeling encouraged, Hermione swiveled her body again.

Severus wasn't the only one moaning at that point; their angling caused his wiry pubic hair to brush against her distended clitoris, and coupled with the deep penetration, Hermione was clutching onto his shoulders, her walls fluttering with an impending orgasm.

Swearing underneath his breath, Severus grabbed onto Hermione's hips, franticly thrusting up into her. The more aggressive moments were enough to send Hermione flying over the edge, and she shrilly cried out Severus' name, her body trembling as her snug channel convulsed around him.

"Oh my god!" she moaned, collapsing against his chest. The two were breathing heavily, and Hermione realized that Severus hadn't climaxed, as her walls clung to his still tumescent length. Severus wrapped his arms round Hermione's body, tucking her head into his shoulder. His labored breathing tickled her ear as he began voraciously propelling into her body.

Severus' hands were now on her behind, cupping and pulling the soft, fleshy orbs against his narrow hips. Practically grinding out her name between clenched teeth, Severus' fingers bit sharply into her buttocks, his length rapidly pistoning into her warm heat. Hermione exploded into another orgasm almost instantly, her throbbing walls tightening and nearly milking every drop out of Severus. Growling out her name, Severus pulled Hermione tightly against him, his warm, labored breath grazing her ear. After a few more thrusts, his cocked pulsed and twitched, and he erupted deep into the snug crevasse of her body.

Hermione lay against Severus' chest, waiting for her breathing to return to normal. She was able to hear his heart thumping against his ribcage at her ear, it's pace soon resuming a slower beat.

Their coupling hadn't been long, yet it left them both knackered. Hermione was draped over Severus like a weak kitten, her springy curls spilling over her shoulder and dangling onto his chest, some of them tickling his lips. Feeling completely relaxed, he didn't even bother to push them out of his way. When Severus finally regained control of his own senses, his arms encircled Hermione's slim waist, his thumbs brushing against the dip in her back.

Hermione wound one arm around Severus' neck, sleepily twirling his soft hair about between her fingertips. Her eyes were shut, nearly on the way back to sleep when she heard Severus ask if she was alright. "Yes," she murmured into his chest, planting a kiss on the warm patch of skin. "I love you," she mumbled, promptly dropping off to sleep, never registering the silence of her bedroom.

Hermione was still draped over Severus when his hands ran over her back, gently prodding her awake. "Hermione," he called in a sleep logged voice. "I think you have an owl; no less a damned inconvenience at this hour."

Groaning softly, Hermione opened her eyes and forced her body into an upright position. Her room was now completely brightened with the morning sun, and she wanted to curse whomever had sent an owl and disrupted her sleep. Yawning and reaching for her shirt that was balled up and abandoned near the headboard, Hermione slipped it over her head and drifted over to the window.

Growing snappish when the little brown owl kept insistently tapping its beak at the glass, Hermione yanked the pane up, and hastily snatched the parchment from the bird. Even though she had rubbed the sleep from her eyes, her sight was still slightly blurry and Hermione had to go over each sentence three times until she was able to string each letter together to form coherent words. "Damn," she snapped, slapping the note down on her desk and scribbling a short reply. Handing it back to the owl, whom balked at not being offered a treat, only to get snapped at by the grumbling, mussed haired witch, the bird finally flew away.

"I love my best friends, I love my best friends," she chanted in a low voice, walking back over to the bed and crumpling back down next to Severus.

"Well?" he asked, propping himself up on one arm to peer down at Hermione. She drew close to Severus and curled into a little ball, laying her head on his arm to resume her broken rest.

"Ginny," she partially explained with a yawn. "It seems...I think her mum found out about Draco. She wants me to come by..." Hermione's head then lolled to the side, her mouth falling slack as she nearly dropped back off to sleep.

"And?"

"And..." Hermione sleepily attempted again, her voice trailing off. "I expect she needs me to act as a buffer. You know how her mum is."

Severus was all too familiar with Molly's pushy ways. She was one of the reasons that he refused to linger around Grimmauld Place for longer than necessary when they were working for the Order. There had been countless occasions where Severus wanted to point out that they were nearly the same age, and that his mother had already passed, and he didn't need require another. He only restrained himself out of respect for her husband, whom Severus found more affable.

"I'll go round after I wake up," Hermione murmured, snuggling down into the pillow, not even bothering to push her tousled hair out of her face.

"It must be rather urgent for Miss Weasley to send you an owl this early," Severus told her. "Perhaps it would be in your best interest to go meet with her now."

Hermione groaned despondently, flipping over to lay on her back. "I suppose you're right," she sighed, tossing the duvet off and kicking it to the foot of the bed. "Although I wasn't particularly inclined to part from your company just yet."As soon as the words left Hermione's mouth, she wished that she could take them back. She enjoyed being in his presence, but certainly didn't expect for Severus to spend all of his waking hours with her.

"Go sort things out with your friend," he merely replied, climbing off the bed and standing up. "When you're done, we can reconvene."

Hermione was still slightly resentful at their time being cut short, but knew that her friend needed her. Still, Severus made it clear that she was welcome to see him later, and she fully planned on doing so.

An hour later, Hermione Apparated to the Burrow, completely unsure about what sort of calamity she was about to walk into and unable to tamper down her anxiety. In order to ward off unwanted questions, she had to use a few well placed glamour charms on her neck to conceal the many love bites marring her skin. Right before she and Severus had parted ways, he scribbled down an address on a scrap of paper and handed it to her. Hermione had peered down at the address, frowning slightly at the unfamiliar area, yet remained silent.

Now Hermione was striding up to the Burrow, pulling her traveling cloak tighter around her shoulders as a breeze threatened to throw it apart. "Hello?" she called softly, knocking at the door and peering inside at the empty kitchen. Frowning, Hermione was about to make her way to the other side of the house, when she heard the unmistakable shrill of Ginny's voice, using language that would make even a sailor cringe.

"Ron, I'm not going to tell you again-leave me the hell alone!" Ginny snapped as she stamped down the small, crooked staircase. Marginal relief showed on her face when she looked at the door and saw Hermione standing there.

"You're barking mad if you think I'm going to leave you alone!" Ron shouted, his face an unattractive shade of red as he was hot on his sister's trail. "I still want to know what the fuck you were doing with Malfoy! Malfoy! Draco bloody Malfoy of all people!"

Ginny's brown eyes were flashing furiously, her jaw firmly set as she determinedly tried to ignore her brother's tirade. "Good morning, Hermione," she politely greeted, tugging the door open with more force than needed and urging her friend inside. "Did you have breakfast? Can I fix you some tea?"

Hermione was silently watching the sibling's exchange, her eyes going from the livid look on Ron's face, then to the forced calmness on Ginny's. "Tea would be fine, thank you," she cautiously replied, unfastening her cloak and sitting down at the narrow kitchen table.

Ron was still preoccupied with lighting into his sister, and barely acknowledged Hermione's presence. "You're selfish, Ginny!" he continued, sounding completely beside himself. "Did you stop to think how this would affect any of us? You know how the Malfoys were towards Mum and Dad; hell, have you forgotten that whole incident with the book? How could you be so stupid?"

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, you have exactly five seconds to get out of my eyesight, or I'll-" Ginny threatened in a low tone, turning away from the hob to stare her brother down.

"Or what?" Ron continued taunting. "There's nothing you can say or do now to get you out of this. Mum is upstairs, probably crying her eyes out because her only daughter is an idiot, and it's all your fault!"

"That's enough, Ronald!" Hermione sharply cut in. "You're no prize yourself, so leave Ginny alone."

"You stay out of this!" Ron shouted, his eyes still glaring daggers at his sister. "This has nothing to do with you, so mind your business."

"And just who in the bloody hell do you think you're shouting at?" Hermione shot back, standing up to round on the seething redheaded wizard. "In case you haven't noticed, my father is dead and yours is presumably at work, so you mind your tongue when addressing Ginny and I!"

"Oh, piss off Hermione!" Ron snapped back, earning loud gasps from both witches. "I don't even know why you're taking up for her, going round with that...snake! Or have you also forgotten how his aunt threw you to the floor of their drawing room, and proceeded to torture you?"

Hermione immediately blanched at the memory, her lips pressing together in a tight line. "Screw you, Ronald. You said it yourself-it was Bellatrix that tortured me, not Draco."

"Draco now, is it?" Ron sneered. "So it doesn't bother you in the least bit that your friend going round with Malfoy?"

Ginny was now pouring Hermione's tea and handed the mug over, unable to keep her hand from trembling in the process. It looked as if she was fighting to hold onto the last shreds of her composure, although her brother's insults were doing a successful job of chipping away at its vestiges.

"No, it doesn't bother me," Hermione replied icily, her fingers tightening around the ceramic handle.

"Let me guess," he sarcastically cut in. "You've probably known about them the entire time-am I right?"

"Oh, shut up Ron, just shut up!" Ginny finally exploded, letting the kettle fall back to the hob with a clatter. "I don't owe you any explanations, and neither does Hermione. All of us, you included, are of age and can do what we bloody well like. I don't need your approval to see Draco or any other bloke for that matter."

Ron opened his mouth to speak again, only stopping short when Mrs. Weasley ambled down the rickety steps, looking for all the world as if someone had singlehandedly insulted her honor. Her face screwed up even more when she saw Hermione and Ginny standing together in the kitchen. Molly's eyes immediately flashed towards the gold and emerald bracelet on her daughter's wrist, her mouth tightening before she stalked off to the other side of the house.

"You see?" Ron hissed under his breath, sounding completely apoplectic. "This is all your fault! I bet Malfoy's father is laughing his head off, going on about his son fucking that Weasley girl!"

A resounding crack filled the kitchen, with Ginny now squarely standing in front of her brother, huffing angrily.

"You hit me!" Ron yelped, holding a hand up to a bright red cheek.

"You're damn right I hit you, and I'll bloody well do it again! Who the hell do you think you're talking to?" Ginny yanked out her wand and hastily flicked the air with it, seconds later her cloak and a small handbag zooming in her direction. Hermione was still outraged by Ron's behavior, yet was silently pleased that her friend was able to easily commandeer nonverbal spells.

Just as Ginny was roughly tugging her cloak around her shoulders, all the while shooting her brother a look of pure disgust, the same brown owl that tapped on Hermione's window early that morning, flew into the kitchen. Ginny put her hand out, and the flittering ball of feathers settled onto her forefinger. "I'm going to leave with Hermione before I do something that I might regret," she told her brother, gesturing for Hermione to follow her to the door.

With all of the arguing, Hermione had barely taken one sip of her tea, and pushed the still hot mug towards the center of the kitchen table. "Come on, Ginny," she said, taking her friend by the elbow and pulling her away before she and Ron were able to continue. "Your brother needs some time to cool off; and perhaps dislodged his head from the depths of his arse."

Ron flounced out of the kitchen in a tiff as the two witches made their way outside of the house. Ginny purposefully strode towards the Apparition point, clamoring to keep her owl in her hand as he clearly wanted to freely fly about.

"You all right, Gin?" Hermione asked, cringing as their feet met with a large puddle.

"I will be," she stiffly replied, refusing to look anywhere but straight ahead of her. "Let's just go. I need to get away from here for a while."

Hermione didn't know where else to take Ginny, so she Apparated them both back to her house. They had just gotten inside when the redhead immediately burst into tears. She was so distraught that she didn't notice Midnight creeping towards them, his blue eyes curiously focused on the wildly flittering owl now sitting on Ginny's shoulder.

Once the owl flew to the safe perch of a bookshelf, Hermione put her arms around Ginny, letting her cry out her frustrations into her shoulder while she soothingly stroked her ruffled red hair. "Ugh! I could kill my brother!" she spat, her chest still heaving as she angrily wiped fallen tears off her face. "Why am I being made to feel as if I'm doing something wrong?" Ginny griped, snatching her cloak off and tossing it onto the sofa.

"You know how your brother is," Hermione offered, rolling her eyes. She sat down on the sofa, gesturing for Ginny to do the same. Anxiously running a hand through her hair, Ginny flopped down next to Hermione, still puffed up with indignation.

"You haven't even heard the worst of it," she continued, the ire evident in her brown eyes. "Before you came, he was going on about how Draco is using me, and I'm too young and too stupid to realize."

Hermione's face crumpled up in distaste, remembering how Ron had same nearly the same thing to her in their fourth year, when she'd gone to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum. "Not that I want to beat a dead horse; but Ronald doesn't exactly have an impressive dating history. Remember Lavender Brown?"

Ginny began laughing through her tears, her mind flashing back to the simpering, giggling blonde that attacked her brother's face at every whim. "If you think Lavender was bad; you should have met this other witch he brought round to the house. I honestly don't know what he saw in that one, but I don't judge. So why the hell can't he let me live my life in peace?"

"Believe me, I completely agree with you."

Jumping up from the sofa, Ginny began pacing back and forth. "Of course, you know he went on to fill Mum's head with more of his rubbish. She kept looking at me as I'd dishonored the entire Weasley family as well as our ancestors! Honestly, Hermione, they're going to drive me round the bend at the rate they're going."

"How did they find out in the first place?" Hermione asked perplexedly.

Ginny stopped pacing, standing in front of Hermione while shifting her weight from foot to foot. "One of Ron's little friends from the Auror office," she replied. "Apparently there are quite a few of them-okay more than a few-that still hold a grudge against the Malfoys. One of them saw me with Draco and they ran back and squealed, as if I'm some damned second year that got caught snogging a boy in an empty classroom."

"Now that's ridiculous," Hermione snapped. "What did everyone else say?"

"Well, this all happened this morning," Ginny replied. "Dad and Ron came home together, and of course, my big pain-in-the-arse brother nearly tripped over his own feet, rushing to go squeal to Mum. I wish he had fallen down; maybe he would've hit his head or his mouth, and would've been too focused on that instead of worrying about me."

Hermione snickered at the idea of Ron falling down, knowing that despite his twenty years of age, he was still inclined to act like a wounded five year old. "You're horrid, Ginny!"

"I mean it!" the redhead laughed, sitting back down. "But did you hear what he said about Mr. Malfoy? I swear my brother is an idiot. Fred and George didn't even give me half as much grief as Ronald when I told them that I was going to see Draco."

"Ginny, it's obvious that you fancy Draco...maybe more than just fancy him, if you're actually going through all of this in spite of your family."

"Well, of course I do," Ginny replied, heaving a sigh. "I enjoy spending time with Draco, and the only thing I regret is not being able to freely do so before, but that would've been hard with school and all. Although my insipid brother is wrong; we haven't gotten as far as he thinks."

"No?" Hermione asked, raising one eyebrow. She thought things had been pretty cut and dry by the way the two were glued to one another at Malfoy Manor.

"No, but believe me, I'm not exactly adverse to the idea," Ginny replied with a suggestive grin. "Who knew that snogging a snake would be so satisfying?"

"Oh, Ginny!" Hermione laughed, now thinking about her own Head of Slytherin House, and how they'd done more than just kissing. "I guess you have a point."

"That's putting it mildly, Hermione," she sighed. "I'm telling you, those lips of Draco's are too damned persuasive." Still smiling, Ginny thought back to the day that she and Draco were reclining on his bed, his slender yet strong form partially pinning her to the bed as he used his tongue to lead a path from her neck down to the freckles on her shoulders. "Yes, very persuasive," Ginny added with a shudder.

"I'm going to dump a bowl of ice beneath your jumper," Hermione threatened, seeing the dreamy look on her friend's face. "Before your sordid little mind starts getting away from you, do you intend on telling Draco about any of this?"

"I suppose so," Ginny replied, smiling when she saw Midnight at her feet. Hermione bent down and picked up the kitten, placing him on the sofa between her and Ginny. "All I know is, I do not feel like going back home anytime soon. Maybe I'll send Button round to Fred and George ; they have a flat above their shop and I'm always welcome to use the spare bedroom."

Hermione gave Ginny a pointed look. "I'm assuming that little agitated fluff ball of an owl is Button."

"Yeah," Ginny grinned, looking around to room to find her owl still sitting on the bookshelf ledge. "I didn't know what else to name him, but when Dad first saw him he was the one to say that he was barely bigger than a button, and the name just sort of stuck."

"That's cute. All right, before we do anything, I need breakfast, or at the very least some tea," Hermione said, now acutely aware of her empty stomach.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Ginny lamented. "I guess I did pull you from bed at an unreasonable hour."

"I don't mind," Hermione fibbed, even though part of her wished she was still in her bedroom, having a lie-in with Severus. "Now come on, let's find something to eat."
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Broken Dreams