Hiya,

First HP-fanfic; not much to say except that I only own the idea; read and review please!

"Do it."

"No."

"Do it!"

"No! I won't! I'm not your student anymore, you've said it yourself – you can't order me around anymore and I. WON'T. DO IT!"

She turned in a blur of hazel curls and stomped away. All he could do was sigh wistfully and stare at her perfect bottom.

"Well, dear friend, that went awesome." He heard a dry voice from the window, but he did not care to turn around – his eyes were still fixed on the behind that was rapidly distancing itself from him, clad in that sinfully burgundy dress with a black hem.

"Ah." He sighed and turned finally to look at Remus, who was leant against the window, chewing on an apple.

Today was Hermione's big day – she had passed three exams today, and had, of course, passed them all with flying colours. However, he was not interested in her Master in Potions; he had made sure himself that she'd pass it with mentions... scratch that, with jubilees. Neither was he interested in her Master in Translation, Russian and French to English – muggle studies, of course, but they meant little in the wizarding world.

What he was interested in, however, was her Animagus form which she had registered just today. He was practically anxious to see what it was, especially since really no one seemed to have even the slightest idea – not even Weasley or Potter and they already did have their animagus form, but Hermione? No one, except for Minerva – the coach – did know about the animal form of his lovely Miss Granger.

"Did you bring a present?" Remus asked absentmindedly, still nibbling on what was soon becoming no apple anymore – he nodded.

Of course, to top the day, Hermione would turn twenty-four today, well tomorrow, but why delay the party if there was reason enough to celebrate already? She was a grown woman, there was no denying it. He had made sure that his present would stand out but would not be too flashy... at least he hoped it would not stand out too much... he didn't like to stand out much.

"Why are you so intent on seeing it?" Remus wanted to know.

"I guess in the end I'm just curious..." he murmured making the werewolf quirk an eyebrow as he finished his apple... all of it.

"Curious enough to start a dispute with... lovely Miss Granger?"

Severus made a face – an expression somewhere in between guilt and embarrassment; Remus had managed to talk him into a 'Guys Night' and the wine had been delicious, too delicious actually and Severus had not been drinking anything without a protective potion for... well, forever actually. The alcohol had affected his system a lot quicker and harsher than he had anticipated – in his stupor his secret had easily been detected.

He sighed. "I'm... no good with people, you know that, especially not when... you know."

Remus smiled friendly. "When you want to know everything about the person?"

It was probably the best description of his sentiments. During the preparatory period for Hermione's Potions Degree, he had been constantly surrounded by her, continuously learning about her; he had not managed to escape her... would he have wanted to escape. But he had gotten to know so much about her...

When she was working on a potion she knew, she hummed.

When she worked on a potion that he wanted her to do and that was new to her, she constantly circled her thumb over the pads of her pointing and middle finger.

When she worked on her own inventions, she bit her lip.

When she was tired, she stretched her back more often than not.

When she was distressed, she was awfully quiet.

When she was angry, she had that 'Piss Me Off And You'll Regret It'-Face that he loved to provoke until she blew up and had yet another stimulating shouting match with him until she'd calm down.

When she was happy, she tended to sway her hips while she made her potion and be especially tolerant of his moods.

When she was in her time of month – and he knew because he had kept check of the periods in between – she was extremely volatile and blew up the very instant he'd say even just a word... and she could throw very nasty things at him.

When she was on a warpath, she liked to rant about everything.

He liked her temper, liked her moods and he liked the fact that most of the time the two of them were unbelievably compatible, there was no wish of her side to change him in whatever way and there surely was no wish of him to ever change her.

"You know," Remus spoke up, tearing him out of his concentration on the beautiful Gryffindor Princess, "I think it'd be time you'd do something about it."

"Are you insane?" he immediately hissed, checking to make sure that no one was nearby, before he stepped closer. "And make her laugh at my face? I will not be ridiculed, Lupin. There's no way she'd even consider it."

Remus smiled and shook his head. "Severus, when are you ever going to see clear? Hermione did not need the Potions Degree – she's had enough time used up with her Translation course and her transfiguration classes."

The Potions Master stopped for a moment – of course he knew that, she had had to use the time turner, illegally... more or less, to catch up with all her duties. "So what?" he growled – he hated it when he had no idea where his conversational partner was heading.

"I mean Severus that there is a chance she only decided to take that course to see you." The werewolf told him soothingly.

"Yeah, sure." He snapped. "She'd have to have planned it four years ahead, you moron! That's as if she'd have known that when she had been leaving Hogwarts! Dunderhead..."

"Severus?"

Uh!

Quickly letting go of Remus' collar, he straightened his back and looked at Hermione, who had just arrived apparently unseen – she was blushing. "I ... I don't even want to know." She cut him off when he wanted to explain – his heart sank.

"I just wanted to ask you two if you would please come? Severus especially, you promised me an experimental cake and I want to see it."

She smirked at him and he returned the gesture, glad that he seemed to be forgiven. He had read about 'Molecular Kitchen' in a muggle book that he had found in Hermione's flat once after he'd brought her back from a very intense bout of potion making – he had started to research the topic and, after a few failures including singed hair and a burnt hand, had managed to reproduce the Molecular Muggle Kitchen the wizarding way.

"Of course, Madame." He said gallantly and bowed, "please lead the way."

Shaking her head, she turned and went, and he was once again graced with the lovely view of her behind as he followed her. Grimmauld Place 12 was not the biggest of habitats but Severus had to admit that it was far bigger than Spinner's End could ever aspire to be – also, since Harry had decided to accept Sirius' last present to him, he had made it a lot more liveable.

"There she is! The birthday princess has arrived!" The Boy Who Lived Twice shouted in glee, just as Hermione descended the stairs, the two older men in tow. Hermione bowed gracefully and continued to come down the stairs.

"So ... where's the cake?" Someone shouted, a Weasley in Severus' opinion – Hermione's eyes glinted mischievously.

"Well, Master Snape told me that he wanted to give me a special cake so... Sir, I'm waiting." She turned just as he had descended and he smirked at her, reaching for a mobile table just against the wall – it was covered with cloth beneath which, he knew that a pot and most ingredients were. He removed the cloth.

"Miss Granger, as you surely know, I am a Potions Master, not a Kitchen Chef..." he started in his usual drawl, reminding himself of the speech he had given the first years. "I can bottle luck and even put a stopper to death..." he paused slightly, smirking when he caught the smirk on her lips, "but I am at a loss about what to do in the kitchen."

His hands moved on their own, his mouth rattling nothings as his minded rattled off the list of ingredients. He turned just right and the ingredients started to freeze over, he smiled – perfect.

"Now... since it is July, Miss Granger, I thought that perhaps something refreshing might be welcomed."

She quirked her brow. "Surely, professor, you have not become an Ice-maker." The witch baited – but Severus only smirked.

"It would probably be close to it." Just another drop of... perfect, the colour was just right a few more stirs and – stop.

He took the ladle out and grabbed the next best form. "Before I will release the secret on your cake, is there any flavour in particular you would want your cake to taste like?"

Severus revealed yet another stack of liquids covered under the white cloth, all of a different colour or viscosity – Hermione stepped up to him, so close, and opened the first one to take a whiff of it.

"Vanilla, professor?" she teased, he nodded benignly.

"And chocolate, and cherries, and caramel. Or perhaps Brandy – I took it from my own personal stash..."

It amazed him that through their humorous conversation, no one ever uttered a word, they all smiled at them – at him? with him? – and waited for the next retort; he felt comfortable around her and quirked an eyebrow as she went to sniff herself through the vials until she held up three of them.

"Are you sure, Miss Granger? If mixed wrongly these ingredients can become quite... volatile."

The young woman beamed at him. "I'm sure, Professor, that, seeing as you are the best Potions Master... so far... you'll mix the ingredients just right."

"So far?" he quirked an eyebrow. "Impertinent witch." But it was said without malice and his answer got some of his former students to even laugh silently. "Well, if you are so sure of it, Miss Granger, then may I ask for the vials?"

And with a dramatic bow he received the vials to his outstretched hand and carefully mixed them with the finished broth. The ladle was almost immobile at this point and he smiled at it secretly, it would be perfect.

"Herewith, Miss Granger," he poured the sticky content of the small cauldron into a glassy form and watched as the sodium-ice smoked from the sudden exposure to the warmer room, "I present your surprise cake."

There were 'oh's and 'ah's and Hermione laughed happily as she guessed what he had done – as he bowed to her, he was simply glad to be the receiver of so much joy. The singed hair and the burnt hand had surely paid off – simply to see her smile like that.

The guests were giddy of glee with the cake that crackled in their mouths and tasted of chocolate, brandy and chilly with a white, sparkling colour to it that hid the frost on top of it. Hermione herself took the first spoon and squeaked surprised when she had felt the crackling on her tongue, but when she had turned around to her former Potions Master, who had knowingly smirked at her, she had simply smiled it off and had started to laugh.

While the party went on into the wee hours of the morning, he reclined in a lounging chair with a glass of elven wine – only one, it wouldn't do to repeat old mistakes – and watched as soon the guests left and only the inner circle of her friends stayed.

"Harry! Ron! I... I really think the two of you should go to sleep!" she giggled as yet again Harold tried to balance on the tip of a broom, only to fall on his arse and try again – he'd have a lot of bruises when he'd wake up... and this time they wouldn't be from Ronald.

"Professor, help!" she called exasperated and slowly he stood up – his Madame was calling him, who was he to ignore her cry of help.

"Potter." He said in the warmest voice he could muster – they young man looked up at him almost immediately. "You must know that your father tried that very trick as well... he landed in the arms of your mother, broke her arm and in the end they fell in love." He looked pointedly at him and Ronald, then began to speak again. "Maybe you should skip the whole arm-breaking-thing and... find your room immediately."

They didn't need to be told twice.

As he turned again, he caught Hermione's eyes glittering with mirth as she quirked an eyebrow at him. He shrugged. "You wanted help, did you not? And you wanted them both in their room, or am I mistaken? Now... both is accomplished and I highly doubt that they'll be up to much more in their... constitution."

The witch shook her head but said nothing as she surveyed the room – it was surprisingly whole considering the fact that almost all of Hogwarts and the Ministry had just celebrated the brightest witch of her age within these walls. The ball room of the Black's had always impressed him but now that he saw it with so many Gryffindor colours and so many girlandes it made him realize just how... happy this room appeared to be.

Somewhere a clock chimed three – she smiled. "I'm twenty-four."

He quirked his eyebrow. "Three in the morning? My, my, Hermione, I always knew you were an early-riser but this..."

He was shot down with a gleeful glare which he returned with a friendly smirk before he neared her. "Happy Birthday, Little Otter." He smiled – remembering his puzzlement when she had sent her patronus to him the first time, he would use the endearment now and then when he was especially pleased with her. The witch blushed.

"I'm... not an otter." She murmured and before he could ask her why, her body had started shrinking and as her dress lay lifelessly on the ground he moved to lift it – surprised when he was fixed by two, golden orbs.

"Miss Granger..." he smiled as the beige snake started to wind up his arm. She looked at him expectantly, hoping maybe that he'd say something – dropping her dress, he started to stroke over the leathery skin that was now her second one. "Now who would have thought that the Gryffindor Princess would be a Snake-animagus?" he teased and she tightened her grip on his arm, he grinned. "Certainly, my dear, I would not dream of telling it anyone. Now let's carry the princess to bed."

As he took her dress again and started to fold it, she wound up his arm and around his neck where he could feel her warmth tickling his neck, she looked at him with amber eyes, gleaming almost golden and he shook his head as he smiled – really the irony of it, Hermione Granger a snake!

He was just about to climb the stairs when he was suddenly confronted with a very smug looking Remus Lupin.

"So..." he smirked, "lovely Miss Hermione got her cake... what about you?"

The suggestiveness in his voice did not go unnoticed by Severus and without even realizing it, he broke out in a sweat, his eyes darting to Hermione's golden head – did Remus not notice?

"What-" The werewolf's mouth formed a silent oh as he finally caught sight of the snake around his neck. "Well that's a lovely exemplary, where'd you get him?"

Severus' eyes narrowed at the obliviousness of the werewolf. "It's a she, you dumbass." He groaned as Remus started to coo to the snake and stroke its head. He looked up.

"Really?" he smirked then, "Well, it seems our lovely Hermione has concurrence, don't it?"

His eyes bulged out this time and he started to sweat for real – oh dear Merlin could this stupid man keep nothing to himself? Wait, was that rum?

"Are you drunk, Remus?" he asked silently, now catching a whiff of the alcoholic beverage as well – the werewolf was immediately silent and looked at him, trying to act as sober as possible, before he gave up.

"It's only Rum!" he defended and as he pushed past him, he cried. "And it's lovely Miss Hermione's birthday and... IS THAT HER DRESS?"

Severus didn't hear him anymore – he took the stairs two at a time and entered her room more hurried than he wished.

"Her-Hermione?"

The snake had coiled around his waist and was now halfway making her way up as all of a sudden Hermione sat on top of him, naked. Her beautifully shaped legs were wound around him and her chest was pressed up against his. She was flushed and breathing hard but before he could even ask a question her lips descended on his.

He was too surprised to even react; in the first moment all his mind registered was that she tasted curiously enough like cherries, that her lips were as soft as they looked and... was that her tongue? Reacting took no longer than her asking for entrance to his mouth and before she could even be properly aware of it, he had switched their positions and pinned her to the door as he vigorously mapped out her mouth.

A sinful moan escaped her and she languidly stretched herself against him, creating the most beautiful friction against his loins. Her dress dropped unceremoniously as he cupped her thighs with the hand, while the other hand reached up to tangle in the mass of her curls.

Finally coming up for air, she smiled openly at him, her chest heaving. "God and I really asked myself how to go about that. I'm glad Remus can't keep a secret unless you have him swear an oath..."

And then her lips were on his again, sweeter this time and gentler and he responded in kind savouring the feel of her against him, her sleek fingers on his shoulders, in his hair, her supple skin under his kneading fingers and her heady body right beneath his.

"Merlin, Hermione." He sighed just before nipping the skin of her throat, she called out in desperation. "What, princess," he growled darkly, "what do you want..." his descent continued until he was at one of her nipples and without further delay he sucked the rosy bud into his mouth.

Merciful gods! Her sweet cry and her arching body clouded his mind as he tasted more of her sweet flesh – finally, finally.

"Severus!" she moaned, "Severus, please... the bed."

One, two steps and she was gently placed on the bed. She looked glorious on the white sheets, stretched out like a succubus and he contented himself simply by looking at her for a few moments – a few moments too much.

Like the snake that she was, she immediately used the opening and he was divested of his clothing before he could even have seen her flick her wrist. Slowly kneeling on the edge of the bed, he crawled up to her, chasing her as she crawled up the bed backwards and finally covered her as she lay down.

The feeling of her naked skin against his surged like electricity through him as he allowed himself to roam her more openly now, breathing heavy as her own hands sought and stroke over his pale body. He was so marred... so scarred in comparison to her, who was so perfect, so iriscendant and glowing. His gentle kisses showered her skin and he worshipped every millimetre of skin that he could find, slowly moving down her body until he was finally – oh gods, finally – faced with the most beautiful sight of her pearl.

He had to have a taste of her.

"Oh gods, Severus!"

Her bucking was welcome to him, making him purr as he pinned her slender waist down with his arm – he was in charge, she was to enjoy. Giving her clitoris a rough lick, he rejoiced in the raw cry that was ripped from her throat, gods if she knew what she was doing to him with only her voice! He continued his ministrations until all of a sudden, she coiled and he knew that she was at the brink and with a push of his tongue inside her, he pushed her over the edge – she flew apart like a bomb, in shining bright colours and a hoarse cry and he gladly lapped the juices that flowed from her; nectar, pure ambrosia.

She had calmed down somewhat when he kissed his way up again until he was granted the softness of her lips again and her dancing tongue in his mouth. Hermione purred beneath him as she shifted restlessly and, giving in to the silent invitation, he gently eased into her.

He parted her easily and was glad – albeit a tiny bit jealous – that he was not her first, he wanted her passion tonight and he had educated her for so long already. But Severus knew that he was a well-endowed man and when he was completely sheathed within her, he stilled for a moment, lost in the sensation of her still pulsing walls and the sweet feeling of her tightness.

"Severus." Her soft voice called to him like a siren called a sea-man and as he looked at her, he found that, indeed, he lost himself in the sea of emotions that washed through him as they made that connection. A gentle hand came up and, with a care he had not experienced in years, stroke a strand of black hair from his face, before she kissed him softly.

He could have died there and then – not only was this a willing woman with – obviously – quite a heart, but this was Hermione, his lovely, beautiful, delectable Know-It-All. With a sigh into their kiss, he started a gentle rhythm.

It came to him as surprise and beautiful wonderment when she started rocking with him and matched his rhythm with grace and perfection seldomly seen and even as he started pounding into her, with his teeth nipping her skin, his mouth leaving marks – because now she was his – she never stopped rocking with him.

Her long arms encased him, stroke over him, pulled him close and her soft voice called his name ever so often, sometimes followed by murmurs that he did not understand completely, but he never minded.

Stamina, it seemed, was his forte for she did not crack easily but when she did, Merlin what a sight. Her walls tightened around him in spasms, heralding her breaking and when he could feel himself tightening as well, he kissed her passionately, fervently, and with a few sweeps of his thumb, she fell apart with his name on his lips. Her squeezing walls were too much for him – he had not had a woman in ages, least of all Hermione – and he emptied himself into her womb.

About to roll to the side, he was surprised when her arms wound around him and pulled him towards her where he gently lay on her, covering her like a blanket. She breathed heavily, but steadily her hands still roaming his body and stroking his back.

"Severus?" He gently looked into those soft, golden eyes that stared at him.

"What is it, darling?" he asked and kissed her temple as she smiled.

"I was wondering if you... if you would like this to stay within these walls and this night." She asked gently and if he wasn't tricked then there was an insecure undertone in her question that she had phrased so subtly that he couldn't imagine for it to be a Gryffindor to be beneath him.

Throwing all care out of the window, he shook his head. "Not for anything in the world."

And then she was on top of him, kissing him with renewed vigour and energy as she smiled the most beaming smile at him. "Thank you." She whispered over and over again, between wet and sloppy, but oh so sweet kisses.

Hours later when they lay exhausted next to each other, she curled against him with her back snugly against his chest, they watched the summer sun rise and played with each other's hands.

"Hermione!"

Around eight there was the loudest yell he had ever heard, but the witch in his bed refused to acknowledge it – she simply groaned, cuddled closer, rolled herself in a ball and hid under the blanket. Severus smiled at her behaviour and gently moved his arm around her small body, which earned him a prompt kiss on his chest.

"Herm-!"

Ronald stormed into the room and stopped upon seeing his old Professor in the bed of his best friend – Severus gave his best glare.

"Ronald, what exactly are you doing here?"

Sputtering the red-haired young man took some time to regain his composure. "Well... I could ask you the same, y'know! I mean this is Hermione's room after all! Where is she?"

Where is she? Did he not see-? Just then there was the unmistakeable shrinking of a body next to his and before he knew it a rather long, warm body slid along his – Severus quirked his brow.

"Darling, this will cause trouble..." he said nonchalantly as the snake moved out from under the blanket and gave Ronald a hard stare.

"Uh... I'll ... I'll come later." And then the red-head was out of the room, thundering down the stairs. "Harry! She's not in her room either!"

Snickering caught his attention and he realized that his beautiful witch had regained her normal form and was now perched on top of him, her giggling creating the most beautiful friction – he smirked.

"Done playing with the boys, are you, my dear?" He purred and she bit her lip as her eyes lit with lust... well, he couldn't hide.

Rocking a bit, she sighed heavenly when she finally held him within her. "Ah," she answered, "I'm done with boys if I can finally have a man."

Antsy to read your comments, so press the button... and also please inform me about spelling mistakes.

Lovelywarrior - out.