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Master Mine Book 2: A Lesson in Love	By : snowblind12 & Lissa Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 16041 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter Nine
BETA love: Raynephoenix2 & sab81790
“Severus, did you get those new papers from Bronwyn Dilley that she promised to owl?” Lucius asked distractedly as he thumbed through the pile of correspondence on his desk. He was answered with silence. “Severus?” Still no answer. Lucius turned to find the man fixedly staring off into space. “Snape!”
He wasn’t sure whether to be amused or exasperated when his friend jumped slightly and refocused his gaze. “Did we get an owl from our new tax preparer?”
“Yes,” Snape answered with a slightly sheepish glance before rummaging around his desk.
“Where’s your head?” Lucius teased. He knew that Thursdays were one of the two planned submission nights with Hermione, he would be willing to bet where the man’s head was.
Snape fixed him with a look before presenting him with a large envelope. “You know where.”
“Yes, I do,” he teased. “Care to share your plans? I could use some inspiration.”
“You could watch,” Snape shrugged. “She’ll be on display tonight.”
Lucius paused momentarily, his heart leaping. Would I care to watch…what the fuck kind of question is that? “She in trouble?”
“No, we made a deal to make that poor excuse for a memorial ball more interesting.” Snape shrugged.
“More information,” Lucius demanded with a dark chuckle as he opened the heavy document and started scanning.
“She told me that I could pick a word and we’d count how many times we heard it while we were in attendance. I remember something about her hand feeding me chocolate dipped fruit, but I changed it to swats on stage.”
“The word?”
“Every time someone complimented her with the word ‘beautiful.’” Snape gave him a wicked grin.
“How many?” Lucius couldn’t help his curiosity. It would have been a wonderful way to pass the boring party…unfortunately, Juliette was (as far as he knew) strictly vanilla in the bedroom. Pity. His mind wandered to the date they had scheduled for Friday evening and sighed. One step at a time.
“Seven.”
“Only seven? She looked positively stunning!”
“I’m sure it would have been more,” Snape barked out on a laugh. “We barely stayed two hours. We didn’t even stay for the bloody dinner, let alone dance. She would have been up to fifty strikes by the end of the evening. Her arse would’ve been brick red. Not even I’m that cruel.”
“She would have loved every minute of it – especially on display. What are your plans?”
“The bull whip … on the cross.”
Lucius’ eyes widened slightly, but his lips parted in obvious arousal. Severus smirked; he knew that feeling all too well.
“Did you use the whip on her during training?” Snape asked.
It took Lucius a moment to collect his thoughts. He cleared his throat. “She took at least five licks with every implement just so she would know what they felt like, but that was not one we used outside of that perimeter. You know that I’m not that skilled with the whip. I’ll be in the audience…that will be delicious to behold.”
“I plan to use henna ink and mark her.” Snape rubbed his hands together deviously. “She certainly covets her marks.”
That statement only made Lucius sink further into memories. She certainly does… He sighed.
“Do you have anything planned for this weekend, Severus?” Lucius changed the subject as he stood abruptly from his chair and moved to the mirror that had been repositioned to the left of Hermione’s desk. He pulled the leather thong from his hair before tapping the crown of his head with his wand to remove the slight kink from the tie. He was unbuttoning the top few buttons of his dress shirt when Snape answered.
“Just working Saturday night.”
“No, you’re not,” Lucius returned. “I told you, I hired Cassius as a weekends-only floor manager. The other managers will continue to rotate weekends with him. He has to find trades if he needs a weekend off. I’m tired of being on rotating weekends, it’s been too many years of it. I turn fifty-bloody-three this Saturday – I shouldn’t have to work weekends anymore. Neither should you.”
Severus turned confused eyes on Lucius. “When did you tell me that? And how did you find someone to work every bloody weekend?”
“Pay differential. He makes fity hours of wages with his three, twelve-hour shifts. He can ask off two weekends a year. If he needs more than that, he needs to find his own coverage.”
“That’s…brilliant really.”
“Hermione.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It was Hermione’s idea,” Lucius finished his primping and turned back to Snape. “I was complaining that I was sick working the floor and that you were tired of giving up every Saturday. She suggested offering to our other current managers a pay increase for working straight weekends. Something about how Muggle hospitals have similar positions for their medi-staff.”
“Isn’t she just full of ideas…” Severus trailed off before he realized that her idea made it so that he didn’t have to work weekends anymore. He could…take her away for the weekend. Plan actual Saturday night dates…convince her to submit for him more often. A slow, predatory grin spread across his face.
“There it is,” Lucius teased knowingly. “You and I can have a life again. We’re not stuck here all the bloody time.”
“Yes. I’ve always known she was brilliant. I didn’t realize having her on the pay roll would find us with so many suggestions, however.” Snape wiped a hand down his face.
“Well, the first thing you asked her to do was to go through financials and records from the last few years. When I was muttering about how I wished I didn’t have to work most Saturdays, she agreed with me. Said it was ridiculous how many hours we work. She knows I put in ten-hour days at ME as well as my time here and she admitted she was a bit horrified when she saw how many hours a week you were putting in between office work and floor supervision.” Lucius gave a slightly exasperated shake of the head because he also knew that Snape put in as many, if not more hours at The Dungeon that he put in between both ME and The Dungeon.
“She asked if it would be alright to look at the schedules from the last few months, I had no idea why until she presented me with a half dozen options that would help cut back the amount of time you had to be on the floor. Then she pointed out how she could cut my hours, saying something like multi-billionaires shouldn’t have to put in fifty hours a week at their corporation only to put in another thirty at their side business. She cut all my floor hours.”
Snape’s eyebrows shot up. “And how did she propose we pay for this?”
“With the money she saved us on taxes.”
Snape snorted. “Of course, she did.” Then he outright laughed. “I supposed we asked for it.”
Lucius nodded, grinning. “I suppose we did. Now, back to this weekend.”
“No plans then, Malfoy,” Snape grumbled. “I suppose you have something you wished to do for your birthday?”
“Just to have a nice evening with my family.” Snape looked up at Lucius to see his eyes slightly diverted.
“Which entails?” he prompted.
“Dinner, drinks, conversation. Guests can stay overnight, and we can enjoy brunch on Sunday. Draco and Millicent. You and Hermione?” The second couple was a question, as if he wasn’t sure it was appropriate.
Snape paused, considering. “I, of course, will be there. And I think Hermione would like to attend, as well,” he answered finally in a quiet tone. “I know she misses your company. Baring that she has plans I don’t know about, we’ll be there.”
“I have one more thing to discuss with you before we proceed to the stage,” Severus said in his low, rumbling bass.
Hermione shivered against him, partly from the slight chill (she was entirely nude) and partly because of the way his voice sliced through her. She was curled protectively in his arms, having just received her instructions for the night. She was half out of her mind with terror even as the flesh between her legs was slick with arousal. She remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
“We have been invited to the Manor this weekend for Lucius’ birthday. At first, I did not think we would be able to attend due to my work expectations, but I’ve learned that I no longer work weekends.”
Hermione peeked up into his face, a small smile curving her lips. Severus had one eyebrow raised and a smirk firmly in place. “Thank you for that, Mine. I am glad to have more time to spend with you.” Her smile broadened, though she still said nothing.
“I have told Lucius that I needed to discuss our attendance with you. Would you like to join Lucius, Draco, and M at the Manor this weekend?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Excellent. Then I have a challenge for you. Would you like to hear it?”
“Yes, Master.”
“I would like you to submit to me for the weekend. Saturday from our arrival at the Manor through Sunday at midnight. A bit over twenty-four hours. Are you up for it?”
Hermione’s breath caught and her teeth came out to worry her bottom lip for a moment. Instantly, Severus knew her mind.
“Ask your questions, Pet.”
“Thank you, Master,” Hermione replied. “Will you let everyone know I will be submitting ahead of time?”
“Yes.”
“Will Draco be submitting to M?” she continued.
“I will find out and let you know.” Hermione nodded that this was acceptable.
“What if it becomes too much?”
“You use your caution safeword and we discuss what’s going on,” he instructed. He readjusted his arms around her when she snuggled in closer to him.
“What will my directives be?”
“Not to speak unless asked a question or told otherwise. To follow instructions with no questions. To submit to me sexually as well as non-sexually throughout the weekend. You serve me, Mine, but I will meet your needs.”
Severus pulled back slightly and waited for her eyes to meet his own. She studied them.
“I’m nervous, but I would like to try. Can I make a request not to be pushed too hard this first time? Perhaps we engage in things that we both know I’m comfortable with?”
“I won’t promise not to push limits, Mine,” he told her seriously, raising one hand to smooth his fingers across one cheek. She leaned into his gentle caress as her eyes fluttered in pleasure. “However, I will promise that if you say your slow word because you feel overwhelmed that we will reassess the situation and move forward in a way with both agree on. Does this sound acceptable?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good. I will let Lucius know we will plan to attend. He has requested us for dinner, to use one of our suites, and then brunch Sunday morning. This is acceptable for you?”
“Of course, Master.”
“I will also talk to M to see if she plans for Draco to submit this weekend and let you know.”
She nodded. Severus settled his lips over hers in a gentle kiss. “Very well. Now, back to tonight. Do you understand your expectations, Mine?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Do you have any questions or concerns?”
“No, Master.”
“You will follow me on your hands and knees to the stage.” He chuckled as her eyes grew wide and her cheeks flushed. He knew exactly what she was thinking. The humiliation of crawling completely nude through the club was probably the reason she started shaking slightly, but he was positive if he dipped his fingers into her center, they would slide right up her cunt with no resistance – she would be that wet.
“Kneel, Pet.” He gave her a bit of a push to help her leverage herself off of his lap and watched with extreme appreciation as her lovely form dropped into the Kneel position. He stood and, using his wand, cast a Divesto on his shirt before tapping his pants turning them into soft, supple leather. Black, of course. He had removed his shoes and socks when entering the playroom. “Look at me.”
Hermione’s eyes raised, and he watched her breath accelerate as she looked into his eyes momentarily before they draped lazily down his body. Shirtless, shoeless, and in tight black leather, Severus knew he looked good. He smirked. “Be my good girl, Mine. Or this playful demonstration will turn into a true punishment.”
“I’m always your good girl, Master,” she whispered. His heart clenched and he moved to her before bending town to place a chaste kiss on top of her head where her mass of hair was tamed into a single, thick French braid down her back.
“You are, love,” he agreed. With that, he tucked his affection under his mask of Dominance and turned to the door. “Follow, Mine.”
Hermione was trembling perceptively as she crawled after her Master, keeping her eyes locked on how incredible his arse looked in those pants and doing her best to ignore the fact that she was positive every single eye turned towards her the moment they moved from the hallway into the Dungeon’s main gathering space below stairs. She heard many compliments and light jeers in regard to her body, especially her bum and quim (exposed as they both were) while she crawled after her Master.
It seemed like an age, but probably only took about five minutes for her to reach the stage. She was slightly disappointed that Severus did not allow her to stand to move onto the stage, but she would give him no reason for punishment. Therefore, she found herself crawling up the three steps behind him and onto the platform. Light immediately illuminated them and the large, wooden St. Andrew’s Cross that was front and center. Goosebumps traversed her body and she shivered in combine terror and excitement.
“Nadu.” It was a command. She sighed internally. Master Severus in private was much warmer than public Master Severus, but he had warned her this would be the case. Even now, after all these years; even now, in this safe space he created for himself and others with his same proclivities, he felt he needed to hide behind a mask of indifference.
As she moved into Nadu, she was slightly startled at the immediate and large audience they had gathered. I suppose it’s not every day the English Wizarding population gets to see a member of the Golden Trio tied to a cross to be whipped, she thought while trying to tamp down the blush she knew was now stained into her skin from her ears to the tips of her breasts. This is mortifying…and I’m soaked. Why is my humiliation so hot?
“Stand and Wait.” Hermione complied, moving gracefully into position. There was a cat call from the audience when her breasts were shoved out as she moved her hands behind her back and a bead of aroused moisture slipped past her lower lips. The heat in her face intensified as it dripped to the stage.
“My, my, Mine,” Master Severus whispered in her ear as he circled from behind her. He reached and tipped her head up by the chin, so her eyes met his. Instantly she relaxed. Though his face remained impassive, his eyes were filled with a heat that made her toes curl. “Aren’t we excited?” Gods –she must be blushing all the way down to her toes now!
She gasped when he reached and slid his fingers through her slit. He moved behind her again and used his other hand to encircle her neck and bow her back, as his fingers spread her labia, exposing her entire sex to the crowd. “Look how excited my little whore is tonight, ladies and gentlemen.”
She felt another dollop of excitement slide, this time coating his fingers. She hissed as he slid his fingers right into her channel before curling them against her g-spot. This had not been part of the detailed instruction for the evening, and Hermione realized that her Master was improvising.
She gritted her teeth and whined in her throat when his fingers rubbed her front wall roughly. “Shall we make my little pet come?”
There was a chorus of mixed answers, some people begging him to make her flood the stage while others felt she should be denied her pleasure. Hermione whined again, louder this time.
Her Master’s movements intensified and within sixty seconds her knees were jelly and her whole body was trembling. “Beg,” he muttered seductively in her ear before bending his head and biting her shoulder sharply.
She shrieked before a litany of praises and exclamations fell from her lips without her even consciously choosing the words. The pressure of needing the loo bloomed in her womb and she knew that she would indeed ‘flood the stage’ as one person had requested.
“Please, please, Master. I need to come – may I please come? Ahhh! Master, I’m going to come, please let me come, pleasepleasepleaseplease, OH PLEASE!” Her whole body was wracked with pleasurable tremors of need, and her stomach was rock hard with her effort not to detonate.
“COME!” he commanded to the roar of a pleased audience and she exploded. Her core clenched and forcibly expelled her Master’s fingers as clear, hot liquid shot out of her, splattering the stage audibly and sluicing down her thighs. She went mindless and only knew that she must have collapsed from the intensity of her orgasm moments later when she found herself heavily leaning against his chest as he supported her with one arm around her waist.
Hermione could feel his erection pressed into her bum and he was panting lightly in her ear. “I think that when this is all over, Mine, I will fuck you as you hang from the cross. In front of everyone. I will even let you come as many times as you can. Earn it, and it will be yours.”
Hermione moaned at the words and her head lolled onto his shoulder as the headiness of the imagery he just weaved for her made her already loose muscles turn to jelly. “I will earn it, Master,” she whispered breathlessly. “Anything for you.”
She felt more than heard his pleasure rumble in his chest before he commanded her to “Wait.”
It took extreme effort to stand on her own feet, but she forced compliance. She wanted that fucking.
“My Pet, in attempts to get me to enjoy myself at the Ministry Ball this month, made a promise to me that she is fulfilling tonight.” She chuckled in her head as he told the audience a brief version of the story as to how she had earned her public whipping. He certainly seemed to enjoy the crowd’s attention, answering their questions about why her number was so low (because they barely stayed for a reasonable length of time) and what implements he had chosen and so on.
Finally, he bid her to approach him. She met his eyes only briefly; they were filled with an intensity that caused a shudder to run through her body. “Up, Mine,” he told her softly as he splayed his palm out for her to use as leverage. The cross was huge – especially with how short she was. There were platforms for her to rest her feet on and padded cuffs that would encircle her wrists and ankles. She moved into position, her back to the cross, and reached her arms up. She was stretched, her muscles elongating and her breasts being force out. Her Master tapped his wand to the wood and the cuffs encircled her. He gave her a sexy half smile before he rapped the cross again and her platform supports disappeared. Her eyes widened as there was a slight stretch; she was now hanging from her wrists with her ankles locked into place. He met her eyes knowingly. They hadn’t experimented heavily with suspension yet as they were still working their way up to more intense games as they got to know each other, and Hermione was used to his more firm and heavy hand.
“What color are you?” he asked her softly.
“Green, Master.” She promised in return.
She watched avidly as he moved away from her to a small table where the whip she had been promised was sitting with its tail soaking in henna ink. She let her gaze move back to the crowd and had to tamp down the need to grin out at the audience nervously. She could see Draco and M standing a bit further back. Draco caught her eye and grinned roguishly at her. Jonathan was not on duty tonight and he and Clarisse were to the side of the stage in one of the few chairs. Clarisse was sitting in Jonathan’s lap. Hermione watched as the Domme turned and whispered in his ear, and then she was observing one of Jonathan’s hands sliding into his Mistresses knickers and the blonde woman’s head was tilting back in ecstasy. Hermione shivered with arousal and tore her eyes away. This was when her stare clashed with another she knew well, his tall form pressing politely through the crowd as he made his way to the stage, silvery blond locks swaying as he moved. Lucius.
Her desire skyrocketed knowing he was there, knowing he was going to watch, and she couldn’t help it when she started panting lightly. Her attention moved back to her Master as he used a cloth to blot the excess ink from his tool of choice.
When her Master’s attention was turned back to her, the audience and everyone in it was pushed to the far recesses of her mind. There was only him.
“You will count, Mine. Tell me you understand.”
“I understand, Master.”
“I am not going to go light on you, but this is not a punishment.”
“Yes, Master.” Her voice was firm with no waver – she surprised herself with its strength.
He positioned himself about two and a half meters from her. “I will give three practice swings,” he told the audience, “they will not strike her. Then we shall begin.”
There was a murmur of excitement before he carefully slipped the loop of the bull whip around his wrist and grasped the handle like he would his wand. Her nervousness grew. Lucius had only used the bull whip on her once. She had taken five licks across her bum. He said he’d used medium force. It hadn’t been awful…but her Master was preparing to crisscross her breasts. The skin was much more tender – not to mention their sensitive peaks. She started to shake in earnest. Fear and trepidation mixed with extreme curiosity and arousal.
The snap of the whip caused her to gasp along with many in the audience. Hermione hadn’t been watching, she had been too caught up in her own head, it was the sound that had caught her attention. She watched him the second time. He looked dangerously beautiful. His form graceful, the force behind the blows stunningly breathtaking.
“Are you ready, Mine?”
“Y-yes, Master.” She had stuttered and there was a tittering of laughter from the audience. Her eyes moved to the spots where she knew her friends were. Draco gave her a thumbs up, Jonathan was kissing Clarisse’s neck while she moaned lowly and undulated her hips to the rhythm of his fingers, Lucius’ eyes were dark and focused on her face. She locked eyes with him briefly and his elegant brow line rose, telling her he knew she could do this.
She refocused on her Master, who was sneering indulgently at her nervousness. “You don’t sound so sure, my dear.” The laughter of the crowd increased, but Hermione stuck out her chin and pursed her lips.
“I’m ready, Master.” She was relieved when her tone was firm, and her words clear and loud enough to rise above the gathering of spectators.
He nodded once, took his stance, and raised his arm. The flick and swish of the whip was mesmerizing. The movement of his body intoxicating. She heard nothing but the rush of blood in her ears. In fact, it wasn’t until a bloom of white-hot heat blew across her chest, nicking her left nipple with an angry bite and curving atop her right breast, did she realize it had even hit.
Her gasp was ragged, and tears pooled in her eyes without her permission. It hurt. Not as bad as Lucius’ paddle, but damn close. She held her breath as her eyes spilled over, she almost didn’t understand the pull of heat that connected her affected nipple to her core. How could something so painful cause such need?
“One!” she yipped and was startled when the audience broke into applause.
The second strike was on her before she could make eye contact with her Dom. “Two!” she shrieked, immediately. The trembling of her body intensified, the second blow had wrapped around her torso, just under her breasts. Oddly curved to lick the underside of her left breast. More tears slid down her cheeks, but there was that pulling of need again, and she found herself anticipating the next strike with a fervor of desperate want.
Another strike, just like the last, but over the top of the swell of her breast instead of under. After she screamed out the number, she groaned deeply at the building of excitement. She wanted this…needed it.
“More,” she whispered, not sure if anyone would hear her. It took longer for the next strike, and she looked for her Master, trying to figure out why.
Severus was using an ink-soaked cloth to reapply the henna, his breathing slightly erratic. He watched her as he worked, relishing the whispered pleading for more that had slipped past her lips. She looked incredible. Wild. Erotic. Needy. Her hair, unable to stay tamed, was pulling itself from her braid, wisps curling around her sweaty face. Her body trembled with a mix of pain and pleasure.
He smirked as she looked down to see the crude shaping of lines across her chest. She would see it as a backwards ‘z’ shape that was slightly curved. The rusty brown lines of ink shadowed by the hot pink of welts underneath from the whip. He wondered if she would realize it was a crudely shaped ‘S’. His goal was to mark her in as close to the same spots three more times before wrapping a line of ink around her middle, directly over her belly button.
Severus’ focus was on his submissive, taking in her signals so he could meet her needs. She was all he intended to watch, nothing else mattered. He scanned her face before moving his gaze to each of her shoulders. They were pulled taut, but her face showed no discomfort. She was still trembling, but now he surmised it was from her arousal versus her apprehension. There were no visible signs that she was in any distress.

He found, oddly, that he was only very slightly aware of the audience, and all his awareness of it did was increase his ardor. While he was not a huge fan of performing publicly, Britt had had an extreme kink for open displays. Mine was no different, she liked an audience as well. He would perform in front of a crowd every time they scened if it made her as desperate for him as he knew she was becoming.
“Oh, my beautiful Pet,” he announced when she caught his gaze. She whimpered and once again whispered her pleading need for more – just another sign that she was comfortable enough in her bindings.
“Do you hear her?” he directed his question to their observers. “She needs more.” His tone was light and teasing. “Shall we give my beautiful little exhibitionist slut what she wants?”
A resounding “Yes!” flooded the space and Severus repositioned himself in his whipping stance and flicked his arm, the whip doing exactly what he commanded of it. He hit the first line almost spot on and couldn’t help his thrill when it caused Hermione’s head to tilt back as she moaned with exalted pleasure.
“Four!” she yelped on a sob.
He didn’t give her a break. He had promised if she was good, he would fuck her after – in front of everyone. He couldn’t wait to sink into her heat and make her scream her bliss.
No, Severus could not wait to show the entire room how she responded to him. How he could make her come on his cock over and over again.
“Five!” The strike was almost absent-minded but landed perfectly all the same.
He secured the next two strikes in quick succession, only waiting for her to scream out the number before preparing and assaulting her the final time.
He wasn’t sure how, but the next thing Severus knew was the sensation of sinking into to the liquid lava heat of her core up to the base of his pulsing prick.
Hermione was drenched with her arousal. He could feel it on her thighs even as it pooled and dripped on his bollocks. She squealed with his intrusion before crying out for him. Hearing her cry of “Master! Master! Yes, oh please, yes!” unleashed a fury of movement.
Severus could hear the chains that held the cuffs rattle with each brutal thrust of his cock in her cunt. Within a minute of stroking her heatedly, a deep wail of release left her. He buried his face in her neck as his hands clasped the crease of her buttocks where they met the backs of her thighs in a crushing grip. He pounded through her orgasm, feeling her juices release and trickle around his shaft, bathing him in her essence. Here, he was protected. Here, he was adored. Here, he was home.
Hermione had lost all ability to think.
She could only feel.
Feel that her shoulders were no longer strained because his pelvis was holding her weight up.
Feel the lines that scored her breasts and belly, the heat of painful pleasure of his hard-muscled chest as it abraded the supple curves of her chest.
Feel his large cock as it tunneled into her spasming pussy, causing the release he had just torn from her womb to wash over him while building her alarmingly quickly towards another peak of pleasure.
Feel the cuffs of her restraints and the unforgiving coldness of the wooden cross bite into her flesh.
Feel the strain of the muscles in her neck as it could do nothing but hang limply back, pushing her breasts more firmly into him.
Feel the sharp ache as his teeth sank into her neck.
Feel the next orgasm as it exploded in her core.
She cried her gratefulness mixed with a chorus of expletives to the rafters, her eyes rolling wildly in their sockets as her lids fluttered as though she were having a seizure. And she was – a seizure of bliss, of pleasure so intense she was sure to die from it…and what a way to fucking go.
Severus was hanging on by the thread. There was a very small voice in his mind telling him he was giving too much away – too much emotion. Letting people – guests, clients, friends, acquaintances – see how he cared for this witch. Letting them see how mindless she made him, how intense their relationship was, and how all-consuming their connection had become. But then she came for the third time since he had entered her, and her vaginal walls were so swollen from her prolonged stimulation and previous orgasms, and clamped so hard on his member that he could do nothing but throw his head back and growl ferally as his bollocks tightened and expelled his essence deep into her womb.
Severus would never know how long it took him to regain his senses. He only knew, that once he had, the wrap around curtains of the stage were closed and the audience behind them was thunderous with cat calls and applause and the distinctive sounds of other people climaxing from their own actions as they had participated in their voyeurism. He silently thanked Lucius for his quick thinking, closing the curtains had given Severus the privacy he needed.
This had been the most intense scene of his life.
Severus had to leave Hermione hanging from the cross for a moment as he moved to the table to retrieve his wand. He took in the toppled ink and the whip that had obviously been tossed, before shaking his head to clear his senses. He fixed his pants before he grabbed his wand and went back to Hermione. She was limp in her bindings her head lolled forward as her breasts roses and fell rapidly, still trying to catch her breath.
He caught her to him and tapped the wood, his magic releasing her bindings. She fell limply into his arms, moaning. Her weight, slight as it was, startled him. He was still weak from his own orgasm. Slowly, he lowered them both to the floor, arranging her in his lap as he summoned a blanket and water from the cabinet backstage. He wrapped them both in the blanket and tilted the water to her lips. Hermione drank greedily. When she finished, Severus drained the bottle with just a few deep gulps.
He tossed the empty container to the side and found his little witch staring at him wonderingly. He reached slightly trembling fingers to her face and traced her cheek bone adoringly. There were no words to be had, all he could do was lean and capture her lips in a heart-stopping, toe curling kiss.
“Severus!” Hermione called as she dashed out of his flat’s floo. “Severus!”
She heard a small crash coming from the bedroom and sprinted across the living room. They met in the doorway of the bedroom, Severus grasping her shoulders with a wild look in his eye.
“What’s the matter, Mine!?” he exclaimed in a demanding tone that brought Hermione up short. Her eyes widened and her lips fell open in shock.
“Everything is fine!” She took a step back only to realize her wizard was naked and wet, his hair (which was now brushing the tops of his shoulders) was dripping with soap.
Hermione started giggling at the realization that she had scared him – scared Severus Snape. The man in question let his hands drop from her shoulders only to raise one to wipe his face. Abruptly, he turned to head back to the en suite bathroom. She followed, still chuckling.
“Luna and Ron had their baby this afternoon!” she explained when he barked at her over his shoulder about why the hell she had come bellowing into his flat as he stepped back into the still-running water.
“And that was cause to startle me straight out of the shower?”
She pressed her fingers to her lips, trying to stifle her laughter as she settled onto the closed toilet seat. “I didn’t realize you’d be bathing,” she admitted before snorting more chortles. “You could have just answered me!”
He sighed. “You sounded like you were in trouble.”
“I’m excited! I want to go see them!” she crowed, springing back to her feet and moving to slide the patterned glass door slightly open so she could watch appreciatively while he cleansed his hard-muscled body. “Can we go after you’re dressed?”
“That’s fine, but it’s cold, Pet,” he answered without bothering to look at her. “Get in or shut the door.”
“With pleasure!” she exclaimed before sliding her wand out of her sleeve. She banished her work clothes to the bedroom before stepping into the large, marble shower and closing the door behind her.
“Oh, Gods!” Hermione breathed as she paused at the entrance of Ron and Luna’s room on the Family Birthplace floor of St. Mungo’s. Her friends were settled on the bed together, both looking lovingly at the tiny bundle of pink blankets Luna held to her breast.
Hermione carried a large, beautifully made-up basket of baby gifts in her hands. She smiled widely behind her at Severus when he stepped up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. He returned her smile with a subtle tip of his lips and searched her eyes briefly. He saw the tinge of jealousy he expected, and while he knew she would not let her friends see it, it still made him sad. This was something they had discussed before, when they discussed the trajectory of their relationship. Hermione had told him that if (for him it was just a matter of when) they decided they wanted to marry; she was not going to want to wait too long to have children. She had explained to him that while she knew love and marriage and having a family wasn’t a race by any means, she felt left out of what her closest friends and family were experiencing and was excited to “catch up”.
It had been a conversation that had made him feel as terrified as it had made him feel elated. This beautiful, young woman had looked at him and told him that when they married, she wouldn’t be able to wait to have his child grow in her womb. It had been a heady thing. Enough so, that he had been hard pressed not to take her up on the offer on the spot. He knew that it was too soon, though. Yes, he’d known of her and about her for years, but it had not even been a year since she had come back into his life, even less time since they had begun dating exclusively, and barely a month since he’d had her all to himself with no other men in the way. Not to mention the fact that he knew they still needed to discuss his insecurities about being a father. It had never been something that had piqued his interest until he discovered it was something she desired.
No, Severus had never had the ambition to be a parent like most men did. His own father had been a terrible one, and he was too much like the man to believe he could be a better one. Only this little witch had made him tentatively hope that wasn’t true.
His attention was pulled back to the scene in front of him when he felt Hermione step away from him into the room while knocking lightly on the door frame. Severus watched and half listened as the long-time friends exchanged happy greetings and nodded and murmured his own congratulations while his mind started to spin in another direction – he was nervous.
It had been years since Severus had been around an infant for any significant length of time – since Draco was young, actually. He knew that the young couple in front of him would most likely expect him to take his turn holding the tiny thing. The thought left him feeling slightly ill.
He was once again knocked out of his reveries when Hermione cooed his name in a voice that was at once ridiculous as it was arousing. “Oh, Severus!” she murmured in quiet excitement. “Isn’t she just the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”
Slowly, his gaze fixed on Hermione. When it did, it seemed as though the entire world melted away. She looked up at him with wonder-filled eyes that brimmed with tears of joy and awe. Her lips were moving slightly as her gaze trailed back down to the tiny being in her arms and one hand moved to smooth over the delicate features of the infant.
It was the most stunning – the most incredible – thing he had ever seen in his entire life. In this one moment, he knew that if he hadn’t already loved her, he would now. If seeing her with a child that was not his could feel like this, how would seeing her with his child make him feel?
Severus hungrily took in the picture; the way her hips swayed in the natural rhythm of motherhood, the way her eyes were bright with happiness even as tears of delight trickled down her cheeks. The sound of her soft voice welcoming the little girl into the world and into her very own heart sent a tingle of warmth through him. His universe narrowed down to a pinpoint where only Hermione and their potential family existed and he knew he wouldn’t be able to wait too long before making this new, intoxicating dream a very real reality.
“Severus?”
He startled just slightly when he heard his name and realized he hadn’t answered her question. “She’s lovely,” he agreed fervently before he stepped forward. He wasn’t sure who was more surprised, him or her, when he sank a hand into her curls and kissed her forehead before moving his lips to her ear. “But seeing you hold her is breathtaking.”
He felt more then heard the stutter of her breath before turning his eyes back on the Weasley couple. “Congratulations again.”
“Thanks,” Ron answered his cheeks a bit pink. “We’re very happy.”
Luna was watching him carefully and Severus felt a bit of heat pool at the crest of his cheek bones. Lovegood had always been too observant for his liking.
“Thank you, Sir,” the blonde answered. “Do you wish to know her name?”
“Of course!” Hermione answered with enthusiasm.
“Nova,” Ron reported before giving his best friend a sheepish smile. “Nova Hermione Weasley.”
Severus quickly moved his attention back to Hermione, who’s lips started to tremble due to the touching gift her friends were giving her. A fat tear tripped over her bottom left lash and quickly slid down to her chin where he couldn’t help but lean over and kiss it away.
“That’s … Oh my goodness! I don’t even know what to say.” Her voice was choked.
“Say you’ll be godmother,” Ron said in a pleading tone.
Severus had to swallow a lump in his throat when the honorific was offered, and Hermione let out a sob.
“Of course, I will!”
“Excellent!” Ron jumped from the bed and engulfed Hermione, baby and all, into his arms. “No one better!” he declared as he pulled back. He was settling back next to his wife on the edge of the bed.
“Do you want to hold her, Severus?” Hermione asked quietly after a moment of peaceful silence.
“I…” He swallowed audibly, which caused the small group of young adults to chuckle lightly.
“It’s okay, love,” Hermione began sweetly, “you won’t break her.”
Severus gave her a half-hearted glare. “It’s not that, it’s just been a very long time since I’ve held a small child. I believe Draco was the last one.”
Hermione’s mouth popped into a small ‘O’ of surprise before composing herself quickly. “Well, high time you get some practice.” That smile he so longed for all those months ago, the one he got to see almost every day now, split her face and made her eyes sparkle with affection.
He watched as she adjusted little Miss Nova in her arms, carefully cradling her head. With more confidence than he felt, Severus took the baby from his witch. Tentatively he balanced the girl in his hands (Merlin was she tiny, were they all this small?) and looked at her. Too large eyes blinked at him, clearer and more alert than he expected them to be (probably being Lovegood’s offspring was the cause). “Well, hello there. The newest Weasley princess is certainly a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” he crooned. Hermione conjured two chairs and they sat close together and watched Nova. The child blinked at him peacefully; each time her eyes closed, they took a little longer to open. Before his very eyes, she fell asleep. Severus found himself completely entranced.
When he looked up again, minutes after he realized he had been staring wonderingly at the child, it was to find Weasley and Lovegood exchanging a long, significant look. When Luna turned her protuberant sky-blue eyes on him, he was drawn into their intensity. She smiled dreamily at him.
“Will you be Nova’s godfather, Sir?”
The whole room went instantly still, and Severus felt his breath hitch in his throat. After a long minute, he stated in a disbelieving voice, “Me?”
Surprisingly, it was Ron who answered in a soft, almost embarrassed tone, repeating what he had told Hermione. “No one better.”
While touching, it didn’t prevent about a hundred questions from flitting across his mind. It wasn’t surprising that Luna was the one to silence every one of them with just a few, heart-felt sentences.

“Ron is right, Sir – there is no one better. I know no other man who protects children the way you do. You sacrificed over two decades of your life to protect not just one boy, but entire generations of young witches and wizards. We would be more than honored if you would consider protecting little Nova the way you protected all of us.”
The room went silent again. He took in the sincere faces of Ronald and Luna Weasley before his gaze moved to the woman that he intended to be the mother of his own children someday. Her eyes were dry for the first time since they stepped into the room; her stare meeting his in a mixture of agreement and pride.
“No one better,” she whispered, reaching one hand out to gently touch his face.
“Then how could I possibly refuse?”
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Master Mine Book 2: A Lesson in Love