Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

...After Happily Ever After	By : Lissa & snowblind12 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 25739 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with Harry Potter or J.K. Rowling. I make no money off of these stories. This is just fun for me.

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
AN: Sooo...this took me a bit longer today than expect, but for me (central time zone, US, Wisconsin) it's still Monday. SO. I did not lie! LOL!

Dellaluna: Welcome and thank you for reviewing. I am truly sorry you're not finding Lizzie and Draco's story as appealing. She is my side-gig for this story, though, so no hard feelings. I know OC's are hard to get attached to. I'm very honored you gave my WIP a go. I hate WIPs, too. They frustrate the hell out of me. I will say I'm about 1/2 way done with this story. I'm enthralled with it, and I won't start a new story until this one is done. Because I have three story ideas on my "next" list, it's keeping me motivated to work on this one frequently. Not to mention all the wonderful reviews and fans keeping me going. I'm SUPER happy you dropped a line! Looking forward to more feedback from you.

BookAddict: Hello, love! Yes! It was to that point in the story that a few more people needed to know what was up... I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you for your frequent reviews, I appreciate them sooo much!

xLissaDream
Heavy lemon in this chapter...you've been warned!
Chapter Twenty
“Mm.” Lizzie breathed against his ear as Draco trailed his open mouth along her collar bone.
“This dress is exquisite.” He nipped the column of her throat relishing her groan of appreciation and the feel of her fingers digging into his hips. “Have I told you how amazing you look tonight?”
“Only about a dozen times.” She hummed, nudging his chin with her nose before angling her head to capture his lips in a hot kiss.
“Mm.” He pulled back just slightly. “Only a dozen more to go, then.”
She gave a light chuckle before taking his bottom lip with her teeth and tugging gently. “Fuck, Lizzie.” He covered her mouth with his again, pulling her questing tongue into his mouth so it swirled with his in an erotic tango. His hands slid up her torso, his thumbs brushing against the side swell of her breast. Her breath hitched in a needy whimper and she arched into him. Taking that as a sign she wanted more, he gently palmed her breast over the top of her dress. She pulled back a bit as a hiss forced its way between her teeth.
“This is okay?” Draco asked her gently, not wanting any miscommunication between them.
“More,” she begged softly, and he groaned, bringing his other hand up to paw her evenly. He flicked his thumbs over nipples that were growing hard. “Draacoo!” She whimpered, head falling back. He took the opportunity to run open mouthed kisses along her jaw, nipping gently.
They had snuck off to the library, which was rightly deserted. Deep in the stacks just outside the restricted section, they felt secluded enough to be open with each other and had spent the better part of the last hour talking. The kissing had come after, and it was exquisite.
He pushed her into a small, two-person table tucked in the shadows, encircling her waist to lift her onto the flat surface. She spread her legs so he could stand between them, but her full skirts didn’t allow for any intimate access. He nipped up her slender, creamy throat and sucked the sensitive cartilage of earlobe between his kiss-swollen lips, all the while dipping a hand down the front of her dress. When she froze against him, he knew he’d pushed too far and immediately took a step back. He rested his forehead against hers and placed both hands gently around her waist again.
“Too fast?”
“Yes,” she murmured. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he replied firmly.
“Thank you, Draco.” She met his eyes with a soft smile and he stifled a groan, her lips were puffy from their kisses, her pupils dilated with lust. He squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth – forcing his mind to think of decidedly unsexy things. Fifteen seconds later, he was feeling much more in control.
“Okay.” He cleared his throat and flopped down into one of the chairs at the table. He needed to change the subject. “So, I have a question for you.”
“Hmm?” Lizzie slid off the table and settled into the chair opposite him, reaching one hand across the flat surface. He took her fingers, lacing them with his.
“Granger and Snape…yeah?”
She didn’t have to answer him. Her eyes popped open comically wide and he snorted. “Holy. Shit. I’m right, aren’t I?”
She said nothing, face freezing into a mask of impassibility.
“Okay, okay. You don’t have to answer me, but I saw them on the dance floor earlier. I also saw McGonagall hissing at them. It correlates well with your almost slipup the other night. Oh, and he was groping her bum.” He smirked at her, one eyebrow cocked.
Lizzie swallowed audibly and dropped her gaze from his face, thoughts running frantically through her mind. Finally, she answered. “It’s not my place to say anything. You’ll have to think what you think and that’s all I have to say on the subject.” It was said in such a way he knew he should drop the subject, but he was too drunk on the knowledge to desist.
“Fucking Merlin’s saggy butt cheeks!” He roared with laughter and Lizzie sat back, pulling her hand from his, shocked with his reaction. “That frigid swot and Snape!” He threw his head back as mirth engulfed him completely. “It’s almost too good! When I think of it, they’re bloody perfect for each other, aren’t they? She’s in love with him? Gods, I can’t imagine anyone in love with Snape. He’s just so…mean. Is he in love with her, too? No – I’m sure not. I don’t think that man loves anything or anyone, including himself.”
Lizzie was watching him, her face carefully blank; his unrestrained laughter had her heart fluttering even as his words made her angry. She bit her tongue to keep herself in check.
“You’re really not going to confirm this?” He watched her carefully, he could see the mix of anger and hilarity in her eyes. “You’re not denying, either, though.”
“It’s really none of our business, Draco. Do you know how much trouble they’d get in if it were true?” She was proud of paying the doubt card. She didn’t say they were or weren’t together, but chastened him all the same. “I also think it’s unkind of you to call Hermione frigid – she’s the sweetest, warmest person I know at this school. She cares about everyone…and didn’t you tell me Snape is your Godfather? You think so little of him? You don’t think he loves you?”
Draco’s roaring flame of amusement died to embers at her words. Damn blonde beauty was right – he was being unnecessarily cruel to people that were good to him just for his own sadistic pleasure. “You’re right, Lizzie. I apologize. That wasn’t kind of me.” He sighed, this girl was too good for him. “I know Snape loves me, he’s been nothing but wonderful to me my entire life. Granger has been most accepting of me this year, as well.”
Lizzie nodded, satisfied. “It’s best you keep your observations to yourself, yeah?”
“What observations?” He gave her a coy grin. She nodded in return.
Severus handed Hermione a crystal tumbler with a finger of firewhiskey in it. She took it gratefully, eyes staring blankly into the fire roaring in his hearth. He slumped down in the leather wingback chair opposite of her with his own glass, legs stretched out in front of him with his ankles crossed, one shoulder pressed into the wing of the chair. After a moment of quiet contemplation, he threw the burning liquid back. It seared down his esophagus before hitting his stomach with a delicious spread of warmth. He closed his eyes and pressed the cool glass to his forehead.
“I’ll leave the school,” Hermione said after a few more minutes of silence. “I can take N.E.W.T.s this Spring without remaining at Hogwarts. I’m good enough of a student, I don’t need to attend classes.”
Anger engulfed him. “Like hell you will!” He growled at her. She shrank back into the expanse of the chair, startled with his vehement reaction.
“Severus, be serious!” She scolded. “This is your career we’re discussing!”
“I told you, I don’t care about my career.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t bluffing. I’m a Potions Master, I can get employment anywhere.”
“Hogwarts is your home!”
Silence. He reached for the bottle of firewhiskey and poured himself another shot. He slammed it back as quickly as the first and was startled when she held her empty glass out for a refill. He eyed her warily for a moment before leaning forward and dropping another dollop in her glass. She downed it just as quickly, and he watched her with subtle bemusement. She hadn’t even pulled a face.
“You’re familiar with the taste of firewhiskey, Miss Granger?” he drawled, humor lacing his voice.
“Don’t change the subject, Professor.” She rolled her eyes at him, he didn’t miss the emphasis on ‘Professor.’
“I’m not,” he said evasively.
“You are.” Her voice was soft, kind. She stood and set her glass on the coffee table before rounding it and taking his glass away from him. He watched her through narrowed and guarded eyes. She hiked her skirts and straddled his lap, one knee on the outside of each of his thighs. Her hands slid over his shoulders and she rested her forehead to his temple, pressing a kiss to the crest his cheek bone. He sighed deeply through his generous nose and slipped his large hands around her silk-clad torso, eyes sliding shut at her tender ministrations.
“Hermione,” he said at last. “If I have to leave Hogwarts, it would not be the end of the world for me. There’s been a lot of pain and heartache inside these walls for me. I have other options – especially with my war-hero status.” He spit the last words out in deep sarcasm. “You’re in the home stretch of your education. Not only is the completion of your N.E.W.T.s important to you, they were important to your folks – and – they’re important to me. You will not leave this school on my account.” His last sentence was said in such a tone that brooked no argument even as his hands skimmed seductively up the arch in her spine.
Her breath hitched. “Okay,” she murmured, fluttering her eyelashes against his cheek in soft butterfly kisses. She pressed herself against his chest as her fingers slid up his neck into his hair, tugging the leather cord from his masculine plait and pulling the tendrils loose. “I’ll finish the year; you’ll find a new job, but only if the Board of Directors insists you resign.”
“Mm.” He agreed, sinking his teeth gently into the soft tissue at the apex of her neck and collar bone while dragging the zipper of her dress down maddeningly slowly. Her hum of approval at the sensitive skin below his ear roared through is senses like mountain torrents.
“I’m going to miss you over break,” she whispered into his ear while his hands crept beneath the susurrating silk of her dress to cup her beautiful bum. He froze, his heart clenching. She wasn’t staying in the castle?
He gripped her waist and pulled her back. “What do you mean?”
She looked at him, lust and confusion making her eyes unfocused. “Huh?” She leaned forward, attempting to cover his mouth with her own.
“Wait, Hermione, stop.” He pushed at her hips, forcing her to stand. If he kept her close, he’d never get an answer.
“Stop?”
He almost laughed at her offended tone, but he was too upset. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes,” she said simply. “I told you I was going to the Weasely’s for Christmas.”
“You most certainly did not!” He argued, a mix of fear, anger, and sadness rising alarmedly into his chest. He didn’t want her out of this castle. “You’re not going!”
She stepped back and crossed her arms around her middle, this forced her breasts up to swell over the top of the dress, which distracted him momentarily. “What do you mean I’m ‘not going?’” she demanded.
“Stay with me.” He softened his tone quickly, he didn’t want to fight with her. He wanted to peel her out of that provocative dress slowly and deliciously and made love to her until her toes curled and she begged him to stop.
His change in mood registered immediately and need pooled in her womb. “The Weasely’s are expecting me,” she whispered. “I can’t back out now. How about I come back on the twenty-seventh. I’ll only be gone for two days. I’ll apparate back to Hogsmeade, you can meet me. We’re planning on going to Diagon Alley for Boxing Day.”
He growled, fear now the dominant emotion. “I will agree to this only if I meet you in Diagon Alley the day after tomorrow. I don’t want you out in that crowd without me.”
She sensed his fear and her heart melted. “I would love you to meet us in Diagon Alley. I’ll owl you the time and place.” She reached up to snake one arm around his neck and pulled his lips down to hers. “There’s not one other person in this world I’d rather be with on Boxing Day. I am just sad we don’t get to spend Christmas together,” she said against his lips. He sealed their mouths together, effectively ending their conversation as he finished pulling the zipper down over her bum. She pulled away and helped him pull the tight lace sleeves off her arms and slip the dress down her perfect hourglass figure. He groaned aloud as he revealed the black silk strapless bra and lacey boy shorts. The knickers clung to her rounded hips and flat belly in all the right ways. The stockings ended mid-thigh, and the effect on his prick was instantaneous when she stepped out of her skirts and he realized she was still wearing her high, strappy shoes; it went from half-mast to full salute in less than a second.
“You’re going to be the death of me, witch,” he said affectionately. Her fingers reached to deftly remove his cravat. He took over, pulling it out of the way as she quickly unbuttoned his dress shirt (his outer robes had been removed when they had entered his rooms). They both hummed their appreciation when her cool hands slid up over his heated chest to his toned deltoids, pushing the garment off his shoulders. His wrists were caught in the cuffs and she giggled as she helped him undo the cufflinks. He used a bit of wandless magic to send them to his dresser. A low rumble escaped his throat as she used his momentary distraction to capture his belt, tugging urgently with one hand while the other smoothed over his bulging placket. “Hermione,” he grunted. “Fuck.”
She purred her agreement while pulling the belt through the loops on his pants, letting it fall to the floor with little care. She moved quickly back to his fly, undoing it with unwavering confidence. “Minx!” he huffed as she shoved both his slacks and undergarments over his delicious bum before he pulled her with him, back into the chair.
She gave a small “Oompf!” of surprise before rocking her lace-clad slit against his cock for a couple beats as he neatly unhooked her bra. She whispered her approval as one set of fingers nipped and rolled a delicate peek. “Ah!”
Hermione pulled away from him, sliding down his torso and onto the floor. She removed his dress boots and socks and pulled his pants off the rest of the way before her focus honed in on his raging hard-on. She looked up at him with eyes so dark they looked like ground coffee beans in the flickering flames of the fire. He would never tire of that look – maddening desire and love – even if she gave it to him for the next two-hundred years. One slender-fingered hand encircled the base of his glans as she walked forward on her knees to settle between his legs. Her breasts and tamed mass of curls brushed his upper thighs as her clever tongue darted out to capture the drop of precum at the tip of his flared head. He grunted and slipped one hand into her hair even as her tongue danced down his length to his bollocks. She nuzzled her nose in the wrinkled skin, breathing in the scent of his all-male musk and sex before lathing one bollock generously with hot saliva. He gritted his teeth as a sharp exhale escaped through his beak.
“Fuck!” he muttered appreciatively. “Gods, love, don’t stop.” He guided her hand back to his straining cock and wrapped his much larger hand over hers, showing her what he wanted. She buzzed her acquiescence against his scrotum, turning her attentions to the opposite teste, and followed his lead. After a moment, she pulled back and used her own saliva to wet her hand before moving it back to pump his shaft more effectively before returning her attentions to his balls. His head fell back in shocked appreciation at this new approach of hers. She’s been fucking reading, I’ll put money on it. After a few more minutes, she swirled her tongue back up over his member before sucking the tip between taut lips. His hips bucked wildly and he tugged her hair with both hands, she let go of his cock with a wet pop and smirked up at him, obviously very proud of herself.
“Looking awfully pleased with yourself, young lady.” He ground out with a leer. He didn’t let his grasp of her hair go as he pulled her to her feet while standing himself. She gasped with surprise at his forcefulness as he roughly slammed his mouth to hers, eliciting a glorious sound from her throat.
“I’m not holding back, tonight. I want to push our experiences,” he muttered against her lips. “If you don’t like something, tell me to stop. I will stop immediately, I promise you. Do you understand?”
“Yes!” She gasped out before diving back in, mouth open and as needy as a newborn hatchling. He drove his tongue into her mouth, tasting her teeth and cheeks. He grabbed one side of her knickers and ripped them with little effort. She groaned, but he had the other side ripped and the scrap of fabric off her before he she could finish her lament of approval.
Her knees buckled out from underneath her, but he caught her in a bruising grip by the hips and backed her into the bed. “On your hands and knees, arse in the air.” Her heated gaze never left his as she pushed herself onto the bed. It only flicked away as she rolled, then her face reappeared over her shoulder, eyes smoldering with need. Her hair was everywhere, cascading over her shoulders, trailing over her back, skimming her breasts. He growled at the provocative picture she made, as his palm cracked down on one firm buttock; her eyes widened imperceptibly.
“Ah!” she whimpered, surprised, but she arched her back. “Again!” She panted. He smacked the other cheek before kneading both with his hands. She arched again. He gave four more sharp cracks on her backside to her surprised growls of delight. “Severus!” she exclaimed, head falling into her arms. “Gods, yes!”
He scooped his hands around her knees and flipped her to her back, shoving her legs up and apart. She bowed off the bed and cried out, hooking her hands around the back of her knees to hold her them in place. She made the most stunning picture of debauchery: young and beautiful, riots of chestnut curls, neck arched, eyes closed, mouth open in a silent hallelujah of sensation, stockinged legs ending in sexy heels, breasts barred – he was mindless with his desire for her and she squirmed with her need. He wasted no time, slipping two long fingers into her sopping channel and curling his fingers against her g-spot.
“Unngh!” She croaked, voice low and throaty. “Please!” She exhaled audibly.
“What do you want?” He taunted her, a sneer of lust clouding his features.
“More! Suck on my clit!”
He obliged with great pleasure, her juices coating his lips and chin instantly while his fingers continued their sadistic torture. He felt her legs start to tremble, her hips rocking into his ministrations. “Come for me, Hermione,” he demanded, his baritone rumbling through her core like thunder. She gave a high-pitched keen that suddenly dropped an octave and tore out of her belly. Her orgasm ripped through her like an avalanche, dragging her along in its wake. His finger movements slowed as he lapped up her release like a starving man at a banquet.
The aftershocks of her climax caused her to tremble and shake, but did not prevent her from lacing her fingers into his hair and pulling him up. He trailed his mouth over her stomach and through the valley of her breasts, pausing to worship the mountain peaks on each side before covering her lips with his in a desperate, deep, and debilitating kiss. She had thought she was mindless before, but it was no comparison to how she felt with the weight of his body and feel of his lips on hers; she could taste herself on his tongue. His warm muscle laved against hers, instantaneously reigniting the need in her belly. “I want you inside me, love,” she purred, dragging her teeth over his stubbled jaw.
He caught one leg by the knee and pulled it over his shoulder while sliding his pulsing cock into her cunt without hesitation. She mewled in delight and tilted her hips to meet his thrust, loving the angle he had her in. A few strokes and he readjusted, pulling both legs up as he pushed himself to his knees to give himself more leverage even as the position allowed him to slide deeper into her pulsing core.
He set a vicious pace, and she met him thrust for thrust. Her gasps of delight drowned out by his growls of pleasure. “Faster!” she begged.
He whipped his hips, back straining, splitting her over and over again, jolting her entire body with each brutal thrust. She sobbed with her pleasure, meeting each stroke with a tilt of her hips and a gasp of his name. The coil inside of her winding so tight she thought she couldn’t bear it a moment longer, then it burst like a fireball and scorched through her veins like fiendfyre.
His name fell from her lips in an almost silent prayer of thanks even as her pulsing muscles ripped his seed from his bollocks to coat her inner walls. “Hermione!” He choked, her name falling reverently from his lips as he found her kiss-swollen mouth with his own. She wound her arms around his shoulders and held him tightly to her while he spent himself in her warmth, wordlessly letting him know just how much she wanted him, accepted him, and loved him.
Later, they lay spent in each other’s arms, silently watching the other, eyes speaking without words. She trailed feather light fingers across the planes of his face as he swirled circles with his thumb on her hip. A light, silken sheet pulled to their waists kept the chill from permeating their bubble, their legs tangled together for nearness. “I love you,” he murmured, dropping a gentle kiss to the bridge of her nose. She snuggled closer to him, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure from the tender touch as her lips curled in a satisfied smile of contentment.
“I love you,” she whispered back. “Happy Christmas, Severus.” She nuzzled his jaw with her nose before pressing a chaste kiss to the throbbing pulse in his throat. She let her hand fall to his chest and burrowed in more closely, her head resting in the nook between his collar bone and shoulder.
“Happy Christmas, love.” It was the happiest one he’d ever had, and they hadn’t even exchanged gifts.
- 20
- 21
- 22
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

...After Happily Ever After