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Doing it for the Order Complete	By : Desert_Sea Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 72673 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters/things/places created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money from my fan-fiction.

Chapter List
- 24
- 25
- 26
A/N: Kvarta – I have a new dishwasher but I sort of hate it. Don’t get one of those ones with the stupid cutlery tray at the top (so annoying). ‘there are differences in Sev's character in each story, and at this point I have bloody hard time not to mix them up’ – that’s exactly why I don’t write more than one at a time, I have enough trouble sticking to one consistent character type as it is ;) ' I just love how his perception of "safe" do not extend to the school grounds.’ – exactly, with Death Eaters threatening to infiltrate, the safety zone is getting smaller and smaller. ‘and ready snap off the heads to anyone who separate them’ – he did give it to Dumbledore this time, not sure if it was too harsh. ‘Him humming to her is just so tender’ – I think I’d quite enjoy that . . . especially with that lovely baritone. ‘But, words are, anyway, least necessary and often least reliable way to convey a feeling.’ – Yes, most of their communication to date has been pretty well non-verbal until the last couple of chapters. It has led to some mis-communication but also, as you say, afforded a depth that is sometimes ‘indescribable.’ ‘Or I'm sending my insane creature to you’ – Nooooooo!! :D
Ali – This was your funniest review to date. I read it all in your accent (well, your made up accent in my head). ‘My little clootie dumpling’ – so of course I had to look that up – very much like a Christmas pudding? ‘Very " Orange is the New Black"’ – my God that was funny. ‘yum yum...buy me one of them Mummy’ – I don’t know where you get this stuff (are you sure you don’t write?). ‘sod Kevin Costner. Who was the guy playing the sherrif?’ – sooo good. It was like that when I first saw him too – who is that guy . . . ‘so started a (healthy?) obsession’ – if you mean staying up to all hours writing smutty stories about a fictional character he used to play, I guess so ;) ‘ambassador plying us with Ferrerro Rocher’ – yes! Come here my little sweeties! <3
OO – Thank you for the kindness and the fixes – I’m grateful that you didn’t delete my chapter until I’d managed to make them (like some other &%$##!). I’m also glad you enjoyed your scalding cup of hot chocolate, even if it came with a little flounder ;) x
Annie – ‘And how sweet of Severus to take care of Hermione when he wasnt able to play too’ – hahah, isn’t he just the perfect gentleman? ;)
I’m loving it – LOL. I’m glad you enjoyed the last chappie. I think we all get sick of being grown up on occasion, at least I do :)

Chapter 25 – Open Order

Hermione drifted in and out of sleep throughout the day. She couldn’t tell if it was an illusion created by her slightly-euphoric state of mind but his bed felt so much more comfortable than her own. And whenever she cracked her eyes open, a smile automatically crept to her lips. Sometimes he would be snoozing beside her, hands clasped across his stomach. Other times he would be reading or writing by the fire. On one occasion, she even woke up to find him simply lying on his side, watching her. And he smiled in return. And she had to kiss him.
He must have gone out at some stage because she woke to the sound of the door closing and an aroma that made her stomach growl.
Moments later he entered the bedroom, looking dashing in his usual impeccable black.
“Dinner is served.”
Scrambling out of bed, Hermione pulled on his dressing gown—the only item of clothing available, and rushed into the lounge to find the table beautifully laid and, in the centre, a steaming Shepherd’s pie with bowls of carrots and green beans.
He pulled out a chair for her, laying a crisp white napkin across her lap before taking his own seat. She really was beginning to feel like a princess. It wasn’t something she’d ever aspired to but she decided she could easily get used to it.
Holding up a bottle of red wine, he inclined his head to it. “Untainted.”
“Yes, please.” She smiled.
He proceeded to fill both glasses while Hermione helped herself to food.
She was about to take a delicious mouthful of pie when she noticed that he had his glass raised to her. She dropped her cutlery and picked up her own glass.
“To good health.” He clinked his glass against hers. And it was clear from his expression that the acknowledgement went far deeper. She nodded with an appropriate level of gravity. He’d done an exceptional job of caring for her, after all.
Taking a sip, she returned her glass to the fine lace tablecloth.
“I remembered something earlier . . . that you . . . sang to me.”
He swallowed a mouthful before responding.
“Hummed.”
“It was very . . . tuneful.”
“Obviously it wasn’t a particularly accurate memory.”
She smiled at his ability to deprecate them both, simultaneously.
“I liked it . . . Will you do it again?”
“Perhaps.”
His black eyes flickered up to hers, and she had the endearing sense that he might even be a little shy about it.
She began to eat but her gaze continually sought him out. It was as though every feature had become more chiselled and every movement more graceful. The way he held his cutlery—the way he chewed and swallowed and sipped and dabbed. It was all so absorbing.
She was suddenly overwhelmed by the need to tell him.
“You are aware that I’m quite . . . fond of you, aren’t you?”
He stopped chewing, a gleam igniting the depths of his eyes.
“More than you used to be, at least.”
“Much more.” She jabbed her fork into a green bean. “I didn’t know you.”
He snorted. “Most people like me less when they know me.”
“I’d be surprised.”
He raised his eyebrows but continued eating.
“I’d be surprised if many people have been allowed to know you very well at all,” she continued.
His chewing slowed as he appraised her over his wine glass. Taking a deep swallow, he narrowed his gaze.
“Not everyone feels the need to be an open book.”
“You think I’m an open book?”
“You are quite . . . forthright in your expressions.”
“And yet I managed to deceive a room full of highly distrustful Death Eaters? I’d say I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”
He smirked, brushing his leg against hers. “Up your . . . ‘sleeve’?”
She gave an embarrassed smile. “I said we weren’t talking about that.”
“You were the one to bring it up.”
“And I’ll be the one to shut it down.”
He gave an almost imperceptible shrug before taking another sip of wine.
“So . . . now it’s your turn.” She swivelled her fork distractedly between her fingertips. “To share your . . . feelings.”
He placed his glass down. And she instantly became self-conscious under his intense gaze.
“Feelings?”
“Yes . . . I’ve detected that you actually have some.”
He leaned toward her. “This is the happiest I’ve been in my life.”
Hermione choked. That was far more than she’d bargained for. Pressing her napkin over her mouth she did her best to recover. “I’m sorry . . . I just didn’t expect . . .”
“Honesty?”
“No . . . I mean . . . Yes.”
He resumed eating.
But she couldn’t. She’d completely lost her appetite . . . for food. It has been replaced by an all-consuming appetite for him. She wanted to eat him up, right there, lips first.
Draining her wine, she pushed her chair back and approached him. He froze with his cutlery in his hands as she lifted her leg to straddle his lap before settling herself against his groin.
“You . . . are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met,” she murmured, gazing into his impossibly black eyes. “I’m so grateful to be here with you.”
As she kissed him, she heard his cutlery clatter onto his plate before his arms were around her, one hand raking into the hair at the nape of her neck, the other pulling her pelvis into him. His kiss was powerful and passionate and laced with red wine—an intoxicating combination. She arched over him, gaining deeper access to his open mouth, her tongue probing and twining with his in a battle of mounting desires.
Before she’d even resumed her position on his lap, she sensed his member jutting up against her backside, making her feel simultaneously aroused and apologetic. She wished she could just play with it for a bit, but that would just exacerbate the torture. And she couldn’t expect him to keep servicing her with nothing in return.
Sliding her fingers through his hair, she was struck by an inspiration. Massage. She would give him a massage to provide some relief.
She broke away, panting lightly. “Do you have oil?”
“You’re asking a Potions Master if he has oil?”
“Massage oil?”
“Of couse.”
“I’d like to give you a massage . . . to help you to . . . relax.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You expect a topless massage to relax me?”
“Who said I’d be topless?”
“I did,” he rumbled darkly, yanking his dressing gown from her naked body in an impressive display of wandless magic.
Her core surged in exhilaration. She so wanted to fuck him. His head bent to her chest and he flicked his tongue out to wet the point of one nipple.
“Severus, no. This isn’t about me. I want to do this for you,” she moaned.
“This is for me,” he muttered, sucking the entire areola into his mouth.
She could already feel her pussy pumping out some serious lubrication. Gods! He had her on tap. Then he pressed her hips downward until she was grinding against the impressive bulge in his trousers. It must be pretty bloody uncomfortable for him. But for her, abrading her swollen clitoris against his straining wool-encased mound was utterly—
“If you keep doing that you’re going to make me come,” she whimpered.
“I like making you come,” he replied, emphasising the final word against her ear, causing an erotic flush to burn her cheeks.
“But I’m making your . . .” She gasped as he squeezed her nipple with his fingers. “Your trousers wet.”
“I’m aware . . . I can feel it . . . on my cock.” Another word striking directly at her core.
“Oh, Gods,” she breathed as he began thrusting upwards against her and rolling her hips rhythmically with one large hand.
She made the mistake of kissing him and the forceful probing of his tongue brought her even closer.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she was ground right up to the edge. Her head pitched backwards but he grabbed her hair, tipping it forward so he could watch her face as she came. He gradually dragged himself up and down her clitoris, teasingly, excruciatingly, watching her jaw fall open and her eyelashes flare. She’d stopped breathing. And he held her there. One second. Two. Before thrusting hard, causing the breath to explode from her in violent bursts.
“Unnhhh . . . uhhh . . . uhh.” Each bodily convulsion seemed to push another groan from the depths of her chest. Her hips jerked around in his hands as her entire pelvis seized and grabbed, adding another flow of release to the patch already soaked into his poor trouser-bound cock.
Hermione had never orgasmed like that before—by simply rubbing herself against something, even if it was something she was very fond of. It felt more erotic for the primal nature of it—like some sort of animalistic rutting or something.
But he was still very naughty. When she’d regained a little composure she tried her best to look exasperated but he simply chuckled and kissed her, which of course made all of her pretend annoyance melt away.
Then he lifted her off his lap and stood, apparently unconcerned about the wet stain on his groin.
“So am I going to get this massage or not?” he asked brusquely.
Hermione’s mouth fell open, but the spark in his eye betrayed the fact that he was clearly trying to wind her up. Ignoring the bait, she took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom.
“Oil?”
He called forth a bottle from the cabinet and handed it to her.
“If you would just lie on the bed for me, please?”
“On my front?”
“Yes.”
He looked down at the massive tent in the front of his trousers.
“Well perhaps I can transfigure the mattress into two smaller ones. You can lie in the gap and stick your—”
“I’m not sticking my dick between two mattresses.”
“I was going to say ‘nose’ actually,” she replied.
Now it was his turn to stand open-mouthed.
“I’m joking!” She reached up to touch his cheek. “I love it . . . I mean . . . I really . . . I like it . . . it suits you.”
She knew she was gabbling but she’d never ventured such a blatant insult and the word ‘love’ in quick succession and it had her flustered.
“Well, it didn’t suit you,” he retorted, before releasing the buttons of his coat and tossing it onto a chair.
He was referring to her first Histomalleus spell—when she’d deliberately tried to annoy him with her massive nose. It was actually quite cute that he hated it enough to remind her.
“So you prefer my nose as it is?”
“I prefer everything as it is.”
That was a very nice thing to say.
“What about when I enhanced my breasts?”
That appeared to challenge him. He stared at her breasts for so long that she decided to throw in a couple of breast poses to assist him.
“I still think I prefer the current ones.”
“And my buttock enhancements?”
He inhaled deeply before releasing the words in a rush. “Let’s just get on with this, shall we?”
He liked her big butt. She couldn’t help the smirk that spread across her face but he ignored it, removing his shirt, boots, trousers and boxers in quick succession before crawling onto the bed and lowering himself gently onto his front.
She liked his back, particularly the shape of it—muscular and tapered. It was going to be quite delicious to be able to touch it properly. But she couldn’t decide on the best position. She considered kneeling beside him but it didn’t seem quite right, and she wouldn’t be able to get much downward force from that angle. So she decided, instead, to sit on him. Her pussy was still wet from coming and whilst she could have cast a cleansing spell, the state in which he’d left his trousers suggested he wouldn’t mind if she sat on him as she was.
Leaning down, she grabbed her wand and cast a warming incantation on the oil bottle before crawling onto the bed and straddling him. As she sat on his lower back he made an exaggerated grunting sound.
“I’m not that heavy.” She smacked him on the bottom before slithering back to sit on it, and although his face was buried in his folded arms, she suspected he was smirking.
Pouring a little oil into her cupped hand, she placed her thumb at the base of his spine and allowed the oil to trickle onto his skin before pressing down with the heel of her hand and rolling it up a thick band of muscle along his side. He let out a genuine groan. Now it was her turn to smirk. She’d suspected that his cock wasn’t the only part of him that was as stiff as a board.
Pouring more oil onto both hands, she rubbed them together and then set to work, lifting onto her knees to press down on him as she kneaded his muscles.
“Breathe,” she commanded.
She felt him release the breath he’d been holding. There was clearly so much tension in his body, it was proving quite painful. Letting up a little, she used her thumbs to work her way up to his neck and shoulders, tying his hair up out of the way with a holding spell. He didn’t complain.
Shuffling forward, she worked down to his bicep and tricep, enjoying the feeling of rubbing the large pliant muscles through her slippery fingers. She grasped his forearm and was about to start on it when he suddenly pulled away.
“Don’t . . . touch that.”
She was taken aback. He’d been so quiet.
“Your arm?”
“My . . .” He rolled his arm over to show his Dark Mark.
“I’m sorry . . . I didn’t . . . does it hurt?”
He suddenly rolled over and grabbed her, pulling her into his arms. “Not as much as you do,” he whispered into her hair.
She wasn’t sure if he was referring to her slightly brutal massage technique or something else but she loved being in his arms and he was kissing her again. And slowly but surely, he kissed her back to sleep.
***
Hermione woke to a roar. She was disoriented for a moment and then rolled over to see Severus walking by with only a towel around his waist.
“What was that sound?”
“Quidditch match.”
She sat up. “Oh, shit, already? I must have lost track of the days? Do you need to attend?”
“I should.”
She sighed. She’d promised Harry and Ron that she would go along to watch but she didn’t really feel up to it.
“I might go back to my room while the castle is practically empty,” she said.
He looked up from where he’d started buttoning up his shirt.
“That’s . . . probably for the best.”
“Oh, I’ll be back,” she responded hurriedly. “Unless, of course . . . you’d prefer me not to?”
“Ensure you’re back by this evening,” he stated matter-of-factly, flicking the buttons closed at his wrists. “For our . . . appointment.”
A grin spread across her face. Yes. Their ‘appointment’. She could feel herself stirring already. She had a feeling it was going to be the longest, hardest and most exhausting appointment she’d ever kept. And she couldn’t wait.
***
Hermione hurried through the corridors in her transfigured outfit. It was basically just one of his black robes, long enough to drag along the ground, and nothing else. Thankfully she only encountered a couple of first years along the way and, as she’d hoped, the Gryffindor common room was totally empty when she finally padded through.
Closing the bedroom door behind her, she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well, look who’s here.”
Hermoine spun around to see Parvati leaning back on her desk chair, a quill dangling between two fingers.
“I thought everyone would be at the match,” Hermione exclaimed, pulling the robe more tightly around her.
“Nah, I decided to write some letters instead.” Parvati frowned at her. “McGonagall said you were ill in the hospital wing and not taking visitors.”
“Oh, yes,” Hermione smiled sheepishly. “I had a . . . virus . . . or something.”
“Or something?”
“Yes . . . they weren’t sure.”
Parvati tossed her quill down and swivelled to face her. “Well I might have to get myself some of that virus because, for want of a less nauseating word, you are . . . glowing.”
Hermione could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. “Really? I did have quite a lot of . . . sleep.”
Parvati’s dark eyes appraised her and Hermione could tell she was unconvinced.
“How did the dress go?”
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry Vati, you’re not going to believe it but I’ve . . . I’ve actually misplaced it.”
“Misplaced? Must have been a good night.”
“I have the money to pay for it. It was really very generous of you and I’m so sorry to have been so careless.” Hermione’s words came out in a rush.
Parvati shook her head. “I’m not that into dresses. Don’t worry about it.”
“No, really, I insist.” Hermione rushed over to her desk and opened a drawer, pulling out her money tin.
“It’s fine.” Parvati raised a hand. “Take me out to lunch or something.”
“But . . . that would never pay—”
“I eat a lot.”
Hermione smiled apologetically before dropping the money back in the tin. “If you insist. But I really am sorry.”
“Show me how sorry you are by telling me the truth.” Parvati crossed her arms with a wry grin. “Did you pick up?”
Hermione couldn’t help the smile that crept across her lips. “As a matter of fact, yes. I’ve met an amazing man.”
Parvati’s eyebrows rose noticeably at the word ‘man.’
“He’s just so . . . surprising. Tender and caring but brave and protective. I just . . . I’m quite overwhelmed by how I feel about him.”
“Sounds a little too good to be true,” Parvati muttered.
“Perhaps.”
“And rather quick wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes . . . and no.”
Parvati sighed. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where I am.”
Hermione smiled gratefully at her. “Thanks, but I really can’t imagine changing my mind. Not about this one.”
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Doing it for the Order *Complete*

Doing it for the Order Complete