Disclaimer: None of it's mine. Dreams of war, dreams of lies, dreams of dragon's fire is from the song Enter Sandman by Metallica and the dialogue at the end is from The Breakfast Club.
Most saw Severus Snape as a cold and heartless bastard. The bat of the dungeons.
But, cold and heartless as he might be, he loathed to leave the warmth of his bed and the comfortably warm body laying next to him.
The body laying next to him?
Shifting slightly, so that he might see the face of his sleeping companion, he drew a moan from her. She wriggled slightly, as if she could burrow into his chest; her movements causing her hair to tickle his nose.
Her particularly bushy hair.
Ah, that was right.
It was one Miss Hermione Granger who was so cuddled against him.
The previous night's events came rushing back to him.
She had taken to coming to him at night, after particularly bad dreams. Dreams of war, dreams of lies, dreams of dragon's fire. All memories played out in her sleep.
She came to him because he had them too.
Normally she would come down while he sat before the evening's fire, reading one of his many tomes. She would sit quietly, content to be near someone who shared her problems. She would rise from his couch and walk to one of his many bookshelves to pull down a volume.
They would sit in companionable silence for a few hours before he would escort her back to her common room; silence ruling all their conversations.
But the night before had been different.
Last night she had not risen and she had not traveled to the bookshelves. No, instead she had begun to talk to him.
She was hesitant at first, and his slightly risen eyebrow at her change in behavior didn't help. But she was a Gryffindor, and nothing if not persistent.
So he had conceded to her wishes and began to talk as well.
They were up, late into the night, early into the morning, just talking. Trading surprisingly witty remarks about this and that, and about each other.
She had fallen asleep mid-sentence, his sentence, and gently rested on his living room couch.
She had never fallen asleep in his chambers before.
Unsure of what to do, Snape had allowed her her sleep while he continued the reading she had interrupted when she arrived.
Less than an hour later, Severus was finished with his book but still no closer to a solution as to what to do with the young woman who had taken residence before his fire.
Sighing in resignation, Severus slowly pushed himself out of his chair, admiring how sleep relaxed Hermione's features so.
Knowing he couldn't bear to wake her to take her back to her rooms, he slipped one arm beneath her knees and one behind her back, picking her up in a way so that she was cradled against him, her head resting on his shoulder.
He was passing through the door that led into his bedroom when he realized that he could have left her to sleep on the couch and simply covered her with a blanket.
Shaking his head at himself and giving a slight smile, Severus continued into his room.
He set her down on the side of the bed he usually slept on; the idea of his sent rubbing off onto her strangely appealing. As was the idea of gathering her sent to him.
He silently pulled off her outer robe leaving her in the casual clothes the school provided for its students. In her case it was red flannel pants with strips of gold on the out side of each leg and a plain, long-sleeved white shirt. All of the houses had the same style, but every house's clothing was made of a different material. His own was silk and their shirts black while Ravenclaw had fleece pants and white and Hufflepuff made use of cotton pants and black shirts as well. Next he moved to take off her trainers and stockings, glad that she was not awake as he did so.
Gently tucking her within the covers, Severus brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead. He smiled slightly at the picture he was sure they made: the snarky potions professor and the golden girl of the school, in the same room—his bedroom.
Severus shook his head, ridding himself of the thought of what would happen if someone was to find them. He turned from her then, making his way into his bathroom so he might get ready to sleep himself.
He returned five minutes later to find her huddled within his blankets, one arm beneath her pillow, the other pulling the sheets to her chin.
Modest even in her sleep.
Severus sighed and laid himself down next to her, on top of the silver sheets she was so protective of. He wouldn't need them tonight. After all, he was wearing long black pants and long-sleeve white shirt, much the same as her own.
She turned to face him in her sleep, a slight frown on her lips and brow caused by the nightmares that plagued both their dreams.
He studied her.
Her face and the few long fingers that could be seen gripping the covers.
He fell asleep to thoughts of her.
They had begun their night's rest separated by both the many blankets he kept on his bed and their practical clothing. But now, upon waking, his chest and her own were separated by nothing more than the raw black silk of her negligee.
Severus gave a slight start when he realized what the two of them were wearing.
The sheets had moved down around their waists and he could see that her new attire end at her mid thigh, or would have had she been standing. At the moment it happened to be quite far from where it should have been. It was pure black but for the white lace at both the top and bottom. He himself had on nothing more than black silk boxers.
He had to bit his lip to keep from making any noise when he reached the conclusion that the silky touch against his leg was no fabric but in fact Hermione's leg.
But despite his best efforts, he let out a strangled moan of pleasure, waking the woman that was resting on his chest.
Hermione gave a slight start when she woke, blinking rapidly to clear her vision of a sleep induced fog. When she realized the position she was in she gave another start, but quickly released a grin when her rapid mind figured out what Severus's family house elves had done to them while they slept.
Upon her discovery she simply laid her head back onto his chest, her hand joining it to trace invisible, lazy circles.
He dared not saying anything.
That lay in that position for awhile before one of them made to move.
It was Hermione.
She lifted her head slightly, positioning herself so that she might see her professor's perpetually scowling face. She leaned closer to him and pressed her lips against the underside of his jaw.
Severus had his eyes closed as he lay, his student moving to a different position against his chest. His eyes snapped open when she pressed a kiss to his throat. Years of spying had honed his already quick reflexes, allowing him to pin the small woman under him the moment her lips left his neck.
He stared down at her, his face closed to all emotions, his eyes searching her countenance. He saw no regret. He saw no fear. He saw no remorse.
"Why?" he asked, his smooth and velvety voice devoid of the scorn and contempt it usually carried.
Hermione allowed a small smile to tug at the corner of her lips before answering.
"Because I knew you wouldn't."