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
- 19
- 20
- 21
A/N: Happy New Year!! I hope things are going well on everyone's end, and I owe you LOTS of lemons, so hopefully this chapter will do ;) thank you for the lovely reviews, I appreciate them all! And don't be shy, I love to hear from everyone.

The walk to Severus' bedroom, or to where Hermione assumed was his bedroom, hadn't taken that long. She followed the professor down a small, dark hallway, lingering next to what felt like a wall while she waited for him to light a candle. Snape moved around so quietly in the dark that Hermione was unable to hear him, never mind see him, until light flared across the room and showed that he was standing right next to her.

"Don't do that!" Hermione seethed after getting over her fright. "I don't understand how you can wear heavy dragon-hide boots and walk around without making a single sound."

"Years of practice," Snape said dismissively, although it was plain that he found humour in Hermione becoming jumpy as the smirk on his face gave him away. She was still glowering up at him as he walked over to her and put his hands to her waist to assist in removing her rumpled dress and strapless bra.

"Why is it so cold in your room?" Hermione asked, her teeth nearly chattering as she raised both arms when Snape brought the jumble of material up her torso. A gust of cool air swept over her feet and sent a wave of goose bumps all the way up to her thighs, making her shiver.

"Not even in my rooms for five minutes and already I'm subjected to your grousing," he murmured, pulling the dress over Hermione's head and setting it on an armchair behind him. He then silently gestured for Hermione to climb into bed, while he turned and flicked his wand across the room. Flames immediately erupted at a hearth, and soon a gentle warmth hung about in the air, chasing out the dank chill.

Snape finally stripped her of her remaining garments, and Hermione couldn't wait to get into bed. She knew she looked completely graceless as she nearly tripped over her own feet in the midst of scrambling up onto the high mattress, but she didn't care. She was completely naked and despite the fire burning across from her, she was still too cold for comfort and needed to warm up. Unashamedly giving a generous view of her entire rounded bottom to Snape, Hermione crawled to the center of the bed and immediately sought refuge beneath the thick duvet and soft sheets. Sinking back onto the pillows and leaving only her head exposed, she began peering around the room.

Snape's bedroom was adequately sized if a bit nondescript, yet it fit the wizard perfectly. There weren't many personal items, such as photographs or the like lying about, although it seemed that Severus had crammed an unending supply of books into the space. His bedside table held an unlit candle and a tatty leather bound tome, and across the room was an old looking wooden table, seemingly groaning beneath the weight of a generous-sized pile of books.

The bed she was reclining in was canopied and curtained, the material hanging down either a dark grey or blue; it was hard to tell through the murky candlelight. Of course the entire thing was three times bigger than her narrow bed back in Gryffindor Tower, and instead of the standard flannel sheets that covered the student beds, Severus had a set of soft sheets and a duvet that matched the bed curtains. Wriggling her toes among the bedding, Hermione could scarcely believe that she was in Severus Snape's bed, also in disbelief at how utterly comfortable it was. There was no way in hell that she would be able to sleep comfortably in her bed back in the dormitory from now on, not after this.

The rest of the room was still too dark for Hermione to see much of anything, although her attention was now focused on the wizard moving about at the side of the bed. He was in the midst of methodically removing his remaining clothing, and when the last stitch had been pulled off, a pale and stark naked Snape lifted the edge of the covers and climbed in beside Hermione.

Snape was in the middle of doing his best to make out what to think of the little messy haired witch in his bed, when she shifted over beneath the bed sheets and left her soft, warm side pressed against his.

You're doing it again, Snape thought to himself of his pointless silent parroting. He was the tiniest bit amazed by the sight of an equally naked Hermione in his bed, a place that up until now had been used merely to close his eyes and attempt to drown out the stressfulness of his life. The bed was more lavish than the one he had back in his home at Spinner's End, yet no amount of invitingly soft pillows and mattresses could erase the thoughts that plagued him on a daily basis.

Hermione had been a welcome, albeit temporary, distraction when they spent time together at Grimmauld Place. While at first he hadn't been sure if he planned on continuing with their improper relationship once school resumed, that uncertainty turned into a definite no once he saw her dress in her uniform, and sitting at a desk in his classroom. But now that she was in his cold, dark room, in his bed, in his mind, he found it hard to send her away. Especially when taking into consideration the way she was currently looking at him, as if she were eager for him to come next to her. It was a look of softness and innocence, with a trace of sweetness that only Hermione could display, and it sent a jolt to his stomach.

Hermione had been smiling bashfully when Snape got into bed with her. Usually they both remained naked after an ardent round of sex, and it was different to see him get into bed without any nightclothes. Out of all the things that had been running through her mind, Hermione found that she was now too shy to utter even a single word, and resorted to resting her head next to Snape's.

The silence filling the bedroom was easy, and the crackling of the hearth was comforting. Hermione cautiously slipped a hand over to Severus' side and lay it on his chest, stroking her fingertips along his ribcage when he didn't tell her to move.

Snape wasn't looking directly at her, nor was he looking completely away from her, although in the dark it was hard to tell just what he was focusing on. Yet his arm did make its way across Hermione's shoulder to pull her closer.

"Severus?" Hermione asked in a sleepy voice.

"Yes?"

"Why did you call Crookshanks 'demonic'?"

Severus' body shook slightly with laughter. "Of everything you could ask me right now, that's the question you choose?"

"I was just curious..." she trailed off, although he could feel the indisputable shape of her smiling lips against his bicep.

"Your cat is intelligent, but he's still shifty. While we're asking questions, just what the devil possessed you to go anywhere with that idiot boy?" Snape asked.

"I already told you," Hermione mumbled, feeling her cheeks heating with embarrassment. "He asked me on one of my off days, and I wasn't thinking. It's not going to happen again."

"I should hope not. I saw him hobbling out after you ran out of the corner. Next time aim...higher...no, there better not be a next time. What did the simpleton do?"

"He put his grubby paws on my waist and tried to kiss me," Hermione answered. "And there won't be a next time, promise. Not with him or anyone else."

"Do you mean willingly or unwillingly?"

Hermione's bushy head popped up and she looked at Snape seriously for a moment. "Neither. What did you think I meant?"

"Lie back down, witch," Snape told her with slight exasperation, sticking his fingers into the back of Hermione's wild curls and urging her head down onto his chest. "Eventually..." he began, before changing his mind and cutting himself off. Snape had been on the verge of pointing out that he would most definitely not be around forever, and not for a long time, going by the looks of things, but saw no reason to put a damper on the evening. Unfortunately, Hermione seemed to have known what he was getting at, for she turned her head to glare at him, almost painfully clipping him in the ribs with her chin.

"I already told you; you don't get rid of me that easily." Without another word, she then turned her head and flopped it back down onto Snape's chest.

While she still harboured worries of her own, Hermione knew that she couldn't change any of it at the moment, and did her best to not work herself up into a state. It wouldn't serve either of them any purpose, and all she would do was turn her evening sour again. No, the chips would have to fall where they may, but in the meantime, she would just enjoy Severus' company.

Both knew that they were holding back dark, unspoken sentiments, yet neither wanted to admit to them. Hermione drew her arm around Snape's torso beneath the sheets and held onto him tightly, nuzzling her face against his shoulder. His fingers continued twirling curls around at the back of her head, and eventually Hermione became relaxed again.

She continued tracing her fingers along Snape's chest, and couldn't help but notice that he seemed thinner than before. It was obvious that the professor was more peaky than usual as of late, but now that her face was a couple inches away from his, Hermione saw that his cheekbones were marginally more pronounced, and his skin was extremely pallid, as if he was sick or had been hiding in his rooms for the past month.

The man was exhausted, that much was clear. Hermione that Snape's already thin fingers were being worked to the bone, and she felt indignant on his behalf. But it wasn't as if Severus Snape was one of the house-elves at Hogwarts, where Hermione deemed their non-paying jobs to be slavery. The house-elves liked their work and didn't want to be paid for it. Snape was being paid for his work alright, and his health was taking a hit as a result.

Hermione wished there was something she could do, some way she could make things easier for the professor. But what?

She was still shocked that the two were lying in his bed together, warm and naked and pressed against one another. But experience warned her that if she were to outright offer the professor any sort of help, that he would turn her down. Of course, that had been in the very beginning of their...relationship, and she wondered how things would pan out now that there was more familiarity between the two.

Hermione would venture to say trust, but wasn't sure. Well, she knew that she trusted Snape, but wondered if the sentiment was returned. Of course, he still claimed that her judgment was faulty, and would most likely claim that she was insane to trust him. Fact remained; she did trust the professor. It wasn't something that she could announce to the world, nor to her friends, as the few times where she pointed out that perhaps Snape wasn't so bad, they firmly shot down that notion.

Yes, he had an acerbic tongue, and she would never forget the way that he completely lost his temper with her and her friends back in third year when they helped Sirius Black escape. Although...she and Ron had attacked him, and no doubt Snape had been livid about the whole ordeal, but he still saved their hides. Hermione hated to think about it, but Umbridge kept that mock syrupy smile on her face all the while basically torturing students.

Snape might have yelled at them and even threatened them, but he had never been one to outright harm anyone. Not physically, at least, but Hermione did experience hurt feelings because of the professor. She still didn't know the reasons for many of his actions, and assumed that she might never find out. At least, right at that moment, she knew that it felt right with his arm around her and his long fingers twisting about in her hair.

Several other trite questions were also running through her mind: How did Severus know when it was time to wake up? From previously looking around the room, she knew that there weren't any windows, unless they were covered up. Even if there were windows, she knew that the dungeons were literally exposed to the Black Lake, and that she would be able to see right into the murky green water.

It was no surprise that Severus kept his rooms darkened; ever since she could remember, each of his classes had been conducted in the same foreboding environment. However, under the current circumstances, the room was only lit by glowing embers at the hearth, and the darkness was welcoming. The feel of his naked, warm skin against hers didn't hurt, either.

That very thought was enough to make Hermione want to touch more than just Severus' chest, which was where her hand was currently resting. Besides the sex, Hermione had grown accustomed to sleeping beside Severus. The irony; the wizard that could talk to her without yelling, which she might have preferred compared to that silky yet sinister drawl, which never failed to turn her into a bundle of nerves, helped her to sleep better at night.

Previously, Hermione had never given much thought to share a bed with another person. Admittedly, she felt some level of security when she slept next to Severus, and while his arms were wiry, they felt just right wrapped around her. It had been torture trying to sleep on her own back at Grimmauld Place, as well as in her bed in Gryffindor Tower upon returning to Hogwarts. On more than one occasion, Hermione had woken up in the middle of the night to find herself clutching onto one of her pillows. There had even been an instance where she reached out in her sleep, only for her fingertips to meet with cat hair. Crookshanks had hissed loudly at being prodded out of his sleep, and skulked off to curl back up at the end of her bed to resume his slumber.

Now that she had finally pinned down Severus long enough to make him keep her around, Hermione dreaded the thought of returning to her empty bed back in the dormitory. But she refused to harp on that for long, not when she had her leg thrown over Severus', and her breasts pressed against his side.

Hermione busied herself with tracing her fingertips over his chest, trailing down to his stomach. She couldn't pinch one drop of fat on the wizard, and inwardly joked to herself that she should have the house-elves bring him different types of puddings every day to put some weight on him. But Hermione wouldn't dare make another joke about the professor's slight frame. The last time she had done so, he seemed irritated, and the last thing she wanted to do was unintentionally insult him.

It wasn't as if she had a problem with his wiry body. Weak was something that Severus Snape was not, as demonstrated by the many times he had already lifted her up with the ease one used to lift a book, only to shift her around to his whim. Even so, Hermione knew it was meant to tease someone for the way they look, as it wasn't something that could be helped. People had always graced her with some comment about her teeth before they had been fixed, or her hair.

Hermione never put much stock into what other people thought about her, although she could have done without the rude remarks. Surprisingly though, the hair clips Lavender had given her were still doing a good job of holding back her curls.

It most likely wouldn't have made a difference even if her hair was all over her head, as it usually tended to do. While Severus had made more than one comment about her messy curls, they hadn't sounded like outright complaints. On top of that, his hand would always find its way to the messy tendrils, allowing them to slip between his fingertips.

Right then his hand was at the back of her head, although it had gone still. Hermione was still in the midst of caressing his chest and stomach, sometimes running her fingertips over the sinews of his left thigh. Severus remained silent as Hermione continued her slow perusal of his body, and it felt as if it was becoming more relaxed beneath her touch.

A quick trip of her hand moving to the center of Severus' thighs showed that other parts of him weren't quite so relaxed. Hermione thought it stupid to feel shy after everything they had already done together, especially after the countless times that she had begged Severus to touch her or kiss her. Despite her shyness, she allowed her hand to curve over the erection that had begun poking at her wrist, gently gripping its head against her palm.

Severus slowly pushed against Hermione's hand, and a soft groan came from his throat when she glided her fingers over his sac. Never ceased to become amazed by the carnal reactions she was able to pull from the usually stoic wizard, Hermione pressed her lips against his chest, tracing along the soft skin and attempting to elicit more of those groans.

Becoming worked up again, Hermione shifted beneath the covers to straddle Severus. Using one hand to support her weight while keeping the other continuously moving over his cock, she placed open-mouthed kisses into his skin, causing him to jerk when her tongue flicked out against one flat nipple.

Severus' narrow hips continued thrashing upward, as if he was waiting for Hermione to move lower. She did just that and kept the covers over her head while moving further down on the bed. Soon as she closed her mouth over the swollen head of his erection, a sibilant hiss of pleasure erupted into the quiet bedroom.

The taste of her own juices remained on his skin, although it wasn't off-putting. The only thing Hermione wanted, no, needed, at that moment for was Severus to come undone for her, just as she had for him, first in the hidden alcove, and later on top of his desk.

While her lips and tongue licked and sucked at every inch of him, her hands roamed over Severus' stomach and thighs. The jerky movements of his hips combined with the stifled moans sent a rush to her head, and Hermione wondered how it would be to finish the wizard off with her mouth.

One of his hands had slipped beneath the covers and held onto the back of Hermione's neck and her head continued bobbing up and down. It was becoming warm and a bit humid with the sheets and duvet completely over her head, and Hermione was sure that her hair was beginning to swell to unimaginable proportions, but it wasn't enough to make her want to stop.

Severus had grown quite vocal, and each time his lips lunged forward to thrust into the warm cavern of the witch's mouth, his thighs gently batted the underside of Hermione's jaw. She was doing her best to ignore her gag reflex, but if he shoved himself too far into the back of her throat like he already had a couple of times...

Her worries were short-lived, as the bed sheets were suddenly lifted from her head, and a gust of cool air swept over her face. Hermione barely had the chance to sigh in relief when Severus sat up and grabbed her by the shoulders. The only thing she was able to see was a dark blur of him moving in front of her eyes as he effectively pressed her back onto the mattress and settled himself on top of her.

Hermione hadn't expected for Severus to pull her away while she was in the middle of orally pleasuring him. But typically he tended to move with a swiftness that she was becoming used to. She still wasn't thrilled by the fact that it was hard to take in the complete sight of Severus. He was partially hovered over her while his lower body remained in the cradle of her hips. The mattress creaked and groaned each time he moved, finally going silent as the wizard slid down her body and came to a halt.

She wondered if he was able to see her through the dark room, as his burning gaze was nearly palpable. Countless times, Hermione had stood beneath the glaring appraisal of the professor's eyes; when she gave one of her usual drawn out answers in class, or when he suspected that she and her friends were lying to him about something. Of course they had been, as most of their 'adventures' consisted of lying through their teeth, no matter that the ends usually justified the means. Even though Hermione had been sure that Snape had no proof at the time, there had always been some part of her that suspected that the wizard knew for certain he had been lied to. As Head of Slytherin House for so many years, even if he didn't have those generously formed nostrils, Snape would still have been master at sniffing out untruths. And it had been obvious that the professor wanted to assign them all so much detention that they would run the risk of serving it until they were grey-haired.

Each time something had transpired, she had found it hard to look Snape in the eye, knowing that the words liar, liar, liar, were most likely flashing through his head like some tawdry neon sign in a shop window that sold cheap goods, as she, Ron and Harry passed him in the halls. Hermione had always hated lying and rarely did so, purely because the guilt she felt afterwards continued to eat at her. Of course, having Ron and Harry for best friends entailed that omitting truths was part and parcel of their friendship. Certain things wouldn't have panned out without a few well-placed fibs. And certain things definitely wouldn't be taking place, such as the naked wizard who was now rubbing his erection across the apex of her thighs.

Lying beneath his silent assessment, Hermione slipped her arms around Severus and ran her fingertips along his narrow flanks. For whatever reason, he wasn't speaking, although Hermione found that she wasn't disconcerted by the silence.

The shaft of his cock was aligned with the seam of her cleft, and each time Hermione moved her hips, she could feel the underside of it grazing her clit. Wanting more friction, she pulled Severus against her and tried to direct his body against hers, only she was still wet from earlier and his cock slid down and became partially embedded in her slick heat.

"Ow," Hermione hissed while flinching at the renewed pain. Her walls were still tender from the onslaught of her and Severus' frantic coupling from earlier, and it made her dig her fingers into his side.

"Should I stop?" he asked, pulling back to relieve some of the pressure between her legs.

"No..." Hermione murmured, loosening her grip and urging Severus to continue. "I'll be fine, just don't go too fast, please."

Severus knew that he could move slowly if needed, and did just that. Sinking in to the hilt until his balls were pressed against Hermione's clenched buttocks, he felt the witch squirm uncomfortably beneath him for a second, but gradually she allowed her body to relax.

"Severus?"

Snape knew that tone, even if his name was uttered in a soft and compliant voice.

"Yes?"

"What was the spell you used earlier? You know, the one on my hands?"

Snape could hardly believe that of all times, Hermione was now choosing to ask him such a question. Despite the fact that he was deeply buried in the most intimate part of her body, in a very warm and inviting place, it hadn't stopped her proverbial swottiness from rearing its head.

Still, he was unable to resist taunting her. "What spell?"

"You know very well what sodding spell."

"Your timing is ridiculous, Hermione, do you know that?" Snape grunted, grasping onto her right thigh for leverage and slightly thrusting forward. "Could you truly not wait another thirty minutes or so before bombarding me with questions?"

Hermione had just let out a soft moan from another thrust of Severus' hips, although it wasn't enough to completely put her off her quest for knowledge of the unknown spell.

"I just want to know, is all."

Hermione might have been asking Snape to kiss her, by the way she had sweetly posed her inquiry. Trust her to wait until he was distracted by more pleasurable pursuits to ask about the intricacies of certain questionable branches of magic.

"I regret to inform you that I will not be divulging that information," he growled with another jerk of his hips.

"Severus!" Hermione moaned, sharply arching her back at the acute sensation that the action sent throughout her body. "You don't regret anything, and you know it."

Brown eyes flashed angrily up at him in the dark, although lust was clearly housed behind that anger.

"And you aren't as crafty as you believe yourself to be," he chuckled. "What were you, waiting for the opportune moment to inundate me with questions?"

Right at that moment, Snape pulled Hermione closer against him and began working his hips in slow circles, allowing his pubic bone to mash against her now engorged clitoris.

"I would never—" Hermione began, just as she cut herself off with a slight gasp. "It feels good and I want you to keep going, but it's still pinching a bit," she confessed, shrinking back to avoid some of the pain.

Snape knew that he had the tendency to behaving like an arse at times, but he was unable to behave pitilessly towards the witch, who was all soft and eagerness as she willingly lay in his bed.

"Move all the way up," he said after pulling out of her body. His cock was slick with her moisture and left traces of the sticky fluid against his thigh, yet he did his damndest to ignore that for a moment.

Once Hermione was laying back down, with most of her wild curls trapped between her and the headboard, Snape moved all the pillows from behind her head and left her lying flat. He then took one pillow and slipping a hand beneath her bum, helping Hermione to raise her hips and shoving the pillow into place. His erection was far from waning, and kneeling again between the witch's splayed thighs, he slowly pressed himself back into place.

The new angle was infinitely better, and Hermione softly inhaled as she was once more stretched and filled to completion. It only took about a dozen of those methodical thrusts before she firmly ensnared Severus' slim waist with both legs, urging him to lie closer against her and at the same time, to move faster.

Snape lowered himself until Hermione's breasts were mashed against his chest. He continued thrusting into her at a leisurely pace, enduring the soft heels that were digging and clamoring for purchase against the small of his back. Hermione's breath was hard and quick against his cheek, and even though her hair was partially obscuring her face, he could see that her lips were shaped into a small 'o'. Her fingers had been twisting themselves into the sheets on either side of the bed, but when Snape began a more forceful ingress into her body, Hermione's hastened breathing turned into high moans. Fingers that had once been white at the knuckle from gripping onto the sheets were now clutching onto fistfuls of black hair, and Snape thought that he would end up with two uneven bald patches at the rate the young witch was going.

Ignoring the pain of the threat of his hair being ripped from its roots, Snape continued ploughing into the girl, only pausing to prise her legs from around his waist to place them on his shoulders. Once Hermione's ankles were by his ears, and his hands firmly around her waist, Snape carried on with a rhythm that soon had the witch screaming to the rafters as she came apart.

Snape held off from his own release, as he intended on their second round lasting longer than the first. Hermione had gone limp beneath him from her orgasm. Although her walls still pulsated and throbbed around him, her limbs had fallen slack and her legs slid down from his shoulders, landing unceremoniously back onto the bed.

"I'm not done with you yet, witch," Snape muttered, brushing his lips against Hermione's when it looked as if she was well on her way to sleep.

"I should hope not," she replied in a relaxed voice as her hands sluggishly hands made their way to his chest.

Snape wondered if Hermione really was going to fall asleep with him still firmly embedded in her, although when he parted his lips and pressed them to hers, she opened her mouth and engaged him in an eager kiss. Their kiss was slow and deep, and Hermione's left hand crept towards the back of Severus' head, idly stroking his stringy hair while his tongue danced across hers.

"If you aren't done with me, then why are you stopping?" Hermione asked in between kisses, curling one leg around Snape's thigh and cambering her hips against his to make him continue moving.

"Chatty inside the classroom; chatty outside the classroom," he chided while sliding back to rest on his haunches. "Turn over onto your stomach."

Obeying without uttering a word, Hermione did as she was told and turned over. The pillow was still beneath her and pressing into her abdomen, only Snape grabbed her hips and pulled up onto her knees and elbows. There came a rustle of the bed clothes being shifted as he leaned over her, sliding his hands up her forearms until he reached her hands.

Hermione had been holding onto the edge of the mattress when Snape pried her hands loose, lifting and placing them to either side of her head, palm-side down against the smooth wooden headboard. Unconsciously shivering at the memory of the way he bound her hands to the castle wall, Hermione shifted her head to the side.

"Are you going to tell me now?" she asked, lifting her head up to try and look over her shoulder.

Severus couldn't help the smirk that appeared on his lips. "No, Miss Granger, I will not."

"Why not?"

Cheeky thing. "Because I have you bent before me in a most inviting position, and I can think of at least fifteen other things that I would prefer at the moment, none of which entail satisfying your swotty little curiosity."

Hermione had just opened her mouth to protest when Snape slid his fingers through the back of her hair and pressed her head back down onto the bed.

"Don't argue with me. If I told you, then you would have half of your insipid little friends fastened to varying surfaces, only because they were annoying you from making too much noise and disrupting your studies."

Hermione was silent as she pondered the professor's statement. She would never use magic against one of her friends to get her way, although there had been times where she wished they would shut up, as the only tones they knew to speak to one another with consisted of booming and boisterous. Then again, she had used a Confundus Charm against that dolt, McLaggen, during Quidditch trials...

Maybe Snape had a point.

"Now, be quiet," he told her in what she deemed his 'teacher voice'.

"Alright. And it's Hermione."

A low chuckle was heard in the dark room, although Hermione relented and fell silent. Snape began tracing his fingertips over the nape of her neck, moving down the slender column of her spine. Keeping one hand flat against the small of Hermione's back, he used the other to smooth over each rounded buttock before sliding down to her sodden cleft.

All it had taken was a hint of Snape's callused fingertips against her skin and Hermione spread her thighs with what would have been shameful alacrity, had she been bothered enough to feel embarrassed. But the idea of her naked and kneeling in Severus' bed in the dark of his bedroom was delicious and thrilling, and it made Hermione push her hips back to meet his hand while moaning her pleasure into the sheets.

Long, potions-worn digits plied and kneaded the fleshly globes of her arse, and the feel of Severus' warm palms running over her skin sent her vacillating between melting into the bed and wanting to scream for her to touch her fully.

It didn't take long for Hermione to find that Snape had, once again, secured her hands, only this time it was to his headboard. Instinctively she had tried to clutch onto something when his fingers teased her entrance, and Hermione quickly found that she wasn't able to move more than her fingertips.

She had half a mind to mutter show-off for yet another impressive display of non-verbal and wandless magic from the professor, but was too caught up in the sensations that were now taking hold of her body.

The one time she had knelt before Snape, right before he licked her to orgasm, Hermione remembered that he had referred to her as a kitten. The moans now leaving her mouth were nearly worth of her own House's blazon, and most definitely did not match those of a small cat.

At some point, Snape had moved completely behind her, and Hermione was able to feel his hooked nose grazing against the backs of her thighs. His lips and teeth lightly nipped at her quivering flesh, and four fingers brushed against her mons while the pad of his thumb teased the swollen bud.

Hermione was so worked up, she incoherently reasoned that Severus could breathe on her, and it would most likely be enough to send her over the edge.

The notion wasn't that far off. Snape's lissome thumb continued moving in maddeningly slow, tight circles around her clitoris, and soon Hermione felt herself teetering the edge of climax. Although her perception was muddled, she felt one wiry arm moving between her legs and coming to a stop at her breasts.

It was too much; the feel of Severus diddling her clit while his other hand pinched and plucked at her right nipple drove her insane with pleasure. Suddenly, his fingers pinched down hard on her nipple, and it sent a forceful jolt straight between her legs. If there had been any long nails left on Hermione's hands, they were definitely gone by now, for when she erupted into a forceful release, the headboard was the only thing her fingers were able to make purchase with.

Snape's hand was completely soaked from Hermione's release, although it didn't stop him from kneeling upright behind her and grabbing onto her waist. The witch was still trembling when he pushed back into her snug channel, and the feel of her throbbing walls made him cry out.

If Snape was holding too tightly onto her, if his sharp hipbones were uncomfortable each time he lunged forward, Hermione was too far gone to notice. Almost immediately she had begun a loud keening that would have most definitely alerted anyone within earshot that someone was enjoying themselves. Ranging between screaming and crying and cursing, Hermione fervently thrust back to meet Severus' cock, never wanting the feel of him moving inside her to end.

His moans nearly matched the wildly writhing witch's as he continued filling her with long, hard strokes. Hermione was beyond merely whimpering her pleasure into his mattress; she filled his normally cold and stark silent room with shrill, raw sounding cries that just might have been able to break glass.

Just as Snape angled his hips slightly downwards to press against another spot that he knew Hermione liked, the witch was barely able to stammer out his name before she erupted into another orgasm that made her tremble from head to toe.

"S-Severus!" she moaned, right before her legs gave out and caused her to collapse against the bed.

"Remember— you didn't want me to stop," Snape informed, although his own breath was coming short.

Hermione could barely form a coherent reply as the wizard then straddled the backs of her thighs, before fully sinking into her once more. Her hands were still bound to his damned headboard, but even if they weren't, Hermione had no intention of trying to get away. Everything felt too good, to the point where it was almost surreal.

Snape's thatch of pubic hair was firmly pressed against her behind with each of his forceful thrusts. If his bed was silent before, it certainly wasn't now, as the headboard made a short rapping noise each time it struck the wall.

Hermione wasn't the only one losing her head; Snape had rested his arms on top of hers, and his slims fingers encircled her wrists, clenching tightly each time he lunged forward. By that time, the wizard displayed that if aroused enough, he could have a filthy mouth. Soon after, his fingers were on top of Hermione's and nearly woven with her splayed and strained digits.

There were no words to describe the way Hermione felt to hear Severus uttering in her ear the things he wanted to do to her in that rich, deep voice, while his cock sensuously filled her. In between each lascivious declaration, Severus' mouth did wonderful things to her shoulder and the nape of her neck, and Hermione almost wished that she was in another position so she would able to kiss him.

"That's it; you're nearly there, aren't you?" he crooned in a baritone that sounded just a bit ragged. "Aren't you, Hermione?"

"Yess!" she hissed, feeling a ball of heat forming in the pit of her stomach. "Don't stop, please, don't stop!"

"Hadn't planning on it," Severus grunted as he picked up the pace.

Just when he wasn't sure if Hermione's screams could grow louder, he was proved wrong. His eardrums were in danger of bursting, and her body bucked so wildly that it nearly threw him off. Of course, he picked a most opportune moment to lift the binding spell off her hands, and Hermione's fingers clamped down onto his, nearly popping his knuckles out of place.

Hermione would have attacked his other hand had it not gone down to her hip, where he attempted to keep the witch lying flat on the bed. Swear words dripped from his lips and became lost into the damp, frizzy cloud of her curls, although the passion-bridled witch never noticed a thing. She was too caught up in the maelstrom of her own orgasm, as it sent her running from cold to hot, then hotter, until it was as if a furnace had been placed against her.

Screaming her throat raw until her cries ran silent, Hermione tensed beneath Snape right before more waves of pleasure ripped through her. It had become increasingly hard to breathe, but now all of her air was trapped in her chest, and Hermione didn't realise that she'd been holding her breath until her pounding heart announced its presence.

Every part of her felt as if it were throbbing and twitching; even her fingertips, ragged and uneven broken pink fingernails, and eyelashes seemed to have a pulse. Dimly registering that Severus was still thrusting into her throughout her entire climax, she suddenly felt the hand that had been holding onto her slip beneath her and around her waist.

Slim fingers were now grazing the curls at the top of her sex, before moving down a fraction of an inch. The positioning was a bit awkward but the results were plentiful; all it took was a few tugs for him to stimulate the hood of her clitoris, and again, Hermione exploded with absurd ease.

The tip of his cock had been pressing into her almost at the threshold of discomfort, but Hermione found that it was a good pain, and it heightened her orgasm.

Just as she began wondering if the wizard was taking his revenge on her through sex, perhaps planning on killing her with multiple orgasms as payback for all of the trouble she had given him over the past few years, Snape's wiry arm tightened around her body and he imperiously held onto Hermione as if he had no intention of letting go.

His narrow hips jerked and hitched against Hermione's as he furiously erupted into her body. That filthy mouth had returned, although most of his words were guttural-sounding and mingled with her name, all of them becoming muffled against her damp curls. Snape ejaculated in gush that she literally felt, and only when the pulsing of his cock waned, did he allow himself to collapse on top of her.

Hermione's throat ached and was parched from screaming. The sheets beneath her felt wet from sweat and come, and Severus' sharp-jointed knee was pressing uncomfortably into her thigh. But the feel of him wrapped around her was too good for her to think about asking him to move. His hand had moved from her waist to her breast, and it was silent enough in the room that she was able to hear the blood rushing in her ears.

Snape could feel Hermione's heart racing against the palm of his hand, although his own was doing the same. At some point they both turned onto their sides and lie pressed against one another, waiting for their panting breaths to even out. It was a toss-up as to who was more worn out, but just as Hermione found herself on the brink of sleep again, a loud snore behind her told her that Severus lost that battle.

Slim fingers traced down and over the delicate curve of Hermione's back. It was a while before she stirred awake, and another minute before she remembered that she had fallen asleep in Severus' arms. Now she was sprawled out on her stomach, and Severus' fingers, along with her frizzy curls, were tickling her bare shoulder.

Her head had been facing in the other direction, and she turned to look at Severus, finding that he was lying beside her, both of them covered with the duvet from the waist down. Although he looked like the picture of comfort as his fingers idly moved across her skin, Hermione was able to see those black eyes appraising her in the dark, and she hoped that he wasn't having second thoughts like before.

"Alright?" he asked, finally breaking the silence.

Hermione opened her mouth to answer 'yes', but her words came out sounding croaky, and she coughed to clear her throat. "Yes," she managed to get out after swallowing. "But I think I need some water."

With a small nod, Snape withdrew his hand and pushed the blankets off his legs to climb out of bed. Hermione didn't lift her head to see where he had gone, all she knew was that he had definitely left the room.

Goodness, she thought of her aching body as she turned over. Between her legs was tender, and every inch of her protested at the movement, and she got as far as rolling over onto her side. Her hair had taken a hit and was all over the pillow and her face, and Hermione weakly chuckled as she tried to imagine what she looked like. Crookshanks probably looked neater than her, and he should, considering the way he loved to tuck away in a corner and groom himself for hours. Still, she was too knackered to even lift a hand to brush the curls out of her face, and she never noticed Snape when he came back into the bedroom.

"Here," he said, sitting back down on the bed and holding out a goblet.

Hermione winced as she pushed herself upright to take the goblet. Looking around, she saw that the room was marginally brighter from a few lit candles strewn about. Gratefully accepting the drink, Hermione took a large swallow, and what she expected to be water turned out to be something else— something sweeter and stronger.

"Thank you. Elderflower wine? I would have taken you for the firewhisky sort."

"Never liked the stuff," Snape replied, moving back and arranging the pillows behind him. "Don't know how anyone willingly drinks it, to be honest. I don't relish a drink that feels like a slice of hell on the way down, only for it to feel as if it's going to rot a hole in my stomach once it's there."

"I agree, which is why I don't drink it, either."

"Your little friends do," Snape pointed out. "Makes me wonder if they were trying to prove something."

Hermione grimaced at the memory of a drunken, sweaty Ron falling into her lap, with an equally drunk and sweaty Harry laughing and standing nearby.

"Surprisingly enough, your very own Head of House gave me that bottle for Christmas."

Hermione nearly choked on the small mouthful she had just taken. Professor McGonagall gave Snape a bottle of wine? That was interesting...

"Professor McGonagall?" Hermione echoed dumbly.

"Yes, as well as the headmaster. And Slughorn, and Rosmerta."

"Madam Rosmerta? From the Three Broomsticks?"

"That would be the one."

Hermione drained her goblet and looked around for a place to sit it. Snape took it from her and levitated it over his shoulder, where it hovered and then lowered itself down to his bedside table.

"Is that so shocking? Rosmerta owns a pub and is usually in need of large quantities of sobering potions. Inebriated, bawdy customers and the like."

"Wish she had given some to Slughorn when we visited," Hermione muttered under her breath. "He spilled half his drink on top of my head."

"That's because the idiot can't hold his liquor; he never could," Snape offered with a scoff, remembering what his old Head of House used to be like on the weekend during his old school days. "Hagrid sent over a box of what I presume to be some sort of biscuits."

"If you value your teeth, you won't eat them," Hermione told him. She felt badly for pointing out the gamekeeper's poor baking skills, but it wasn't as if she was lying. Meanwhile, she was still trying to wrap her head around the idea that Madam Rosmerta as well as the other professors had given Severus Christmas presents. On top of that, he was now picking up said bottle and refilling the goblet, drawing deeply from it before handing it back to Hermione.

She could scarcely believe that she was sitting completely naked in the professor's bed, save for the sheet draped across her legs and protecting the sliver of modesty that remained, while sharing a goblet of wine. It made him seem...human, like anyone else. Normal, even, she would venture to say.

"Spit it out, Granger. Your thoughts are ruining the silence. Remember when I told you that I prefer silence in my bedroom?"

"Hermione. And I just...well, I didn't know that you and the other teachers were, you know..."

"Chummy, is what I assume you're getting at, and I suppose you are correct on some level. Although my colleagues know that I prefer solitude."

Hermione had just drained the second goblet of wine, and felt completely relaxed. She could have been a feather, drifting along the breeze in some grassy meadow, she felt so buoyant.

"So it seems that broody isn't the only hat you wear. But I guess I don't blame you for wanting a bit of privacy," she prattled on after releasing a wide yawn. "If I were you, I might have run for the hills a long time ago."

Snape remained silent as Hermione handed him the empty goblet and curled up at his side. The witch was still innocent in many other ways, and unaware of many complications in his life. As it was, he saw no reason to make her privy to such information, but her statement made him want to laugh bitterly.

There had been times where he thought about leaving everything behind, but at the end of the day, up until now, everything he had done would have been for naught. And he had never been a person to run from anything. But he was only human, and able to take so much before wondering just when he would reach his breaking point. Hermione had just turned eighteen at the start of that school term, and already she had faced more than what some adult wizards had faced their entire lives. And yet, she was still carrying on with that damnably determined Gryffindor resolve.

Part of getting through it all was to not give certain things too much thought. The future was uncertain; that much was evident. It served no purpose to dwell upon what might or might not happen, as tomorrow wasn't promised to any of them, no matter whose side they were on.

At the moment, Hermione didn't seem to be remotely fazed by any of the impending doom and gloom. She and Severus were naked as they had been an hour ago, and now the witch had slithered her way over to his side of the bed, and plopped her head down onto his duvet covered thigh.

Snape was peering down at the girl that was laying on him, her disheveled hair going every which way and surrounding her head like some sort of fuzzy halo. He wasn't smiling, although one would never actually find him smiling unless he was about to dole out punishment.

That moot point didn't matter to Hermione. She knew Severus wasn't the smile-like-a-Clabbert type, and if she had in fact come across him, grinning widely, immediately she would have suspected something. No, she was accustomed to his stern features, as well as the lank black hair that was now falling over his face as he looked down at her.

"Thinking of a way to sneak back into Gryffindor Tower?"

"No...why? Trying to get rid of me already?" she cheekily replied.

Snape gave a little snort and ran a hand through the tangle of her curls. "I assumed you would need to get back and have a proper sleep before leaving in the morning."

Hermione let out another yawn and lifted her head so Snape could free the curls trapped beneath. "I'm not going home for Christmas," she said. "And I'm not going to the Burrow with Ron and Harry. Mum and Dad wanted me to come home, but thought it might be best if I stay here...you know, in light of everything that happened this summer."

Snape said nothing, but continued carding his fingers through her hair.

"Will you be here?"

His hand paused, as if it was contingent upon him answering the question.

"I should be," he finally replied, resuming twirling the frizzy curls around his middle finger.

"Will I be able to see you?"

As much as he wanted to say no, Snape was unable to. Besides, he knew that Hermione would somehow find a way to corner him off in a classroom, or follow him until he conceded to her whims. It had been a miracle that no one noticed anything as of yet.

"I should be telling you no," he answered, "but we both know that that isn't going to happen. Do you think you will be able to remain discreet?"

Hermione looked up seriously at Severus and nodded her head. "I'll be careful," she promised.

"You had better. I must admit, I'm still curious to know how you plan on sneaking back into the dormitories."

Hermione merely curled into a tighter ball beneath the duvet, and her eyes were already sliding shut from wine and exhaustion. "I..." she trailed off after another yawn took hold. "I left my bed hangings closed; I didn't want anyone to bother Crooks."

"Your wayward familiar," Snape cut in, which Hermione ignored.

"They'll think that I'm asleep, and I can slip back inside in the morning. I just have to Disillusion myself and wait for someone to go through the portrait hole."

"It sounds as if you have everything sorted."

"For the most part," she murmured, already halfway to sleep. "Lie down with me."

Snape did as Hermione asked, and her bushy head took its usual spot on top of his chest.

"I still never pegged you for the naked and drinking wine in bed sort," she giggled sleepily into his skin.

"Why, are my host skills not up to par? Should I have offered biscuits as well?"

"Wise-arse. No, not if Hagrid's rock cakes were the only ones you have."

"Unfortunately they are, but your preference has been duly noted. Now, go to sleep. I'll wake you up in the morning."

"How the hell do you know when it's time to wake up in here? It's so dark and you can't see the sun..."

"Hermione."

"Hmm?"

Snape's hand came down in front of her face and two thin fingers pinched her lips together. "Be quiet."

She was about to reply 'alright', but between her wine-muddled mind and the long fingers holding onto her lips, Hermione mumbled some semblance of a reply before falling into a light snore.
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Unintentional Inveiglement