Aural Matters

By Ammarine

A/N: This was a plot bunny that was bouncing around in my head since last night, thanks to the ...erm...vivid imaginings of Betzstump on Wiktt.I didn't have the time to get this beta-ed, I loved it and thought you all may want toenjoyas soon as possible too.Hope you enjoy, and please review!

Note that Passionate Trousers is from Cassandra Claire's 'Draco Veritas' fics, and however much i wish, Hermione and Severus are not minesniff, sniff.

'Why do you love me?' The dark-haired man asked, taking a sip of his brandy

'Whatever do you mean?' His young wife asked, not answering the question.

'Why do you love me?' He repeated. He had asked her this multiple times since they had married and had never become tired of hearing her response. It was always different.

She looked up at him, standing in front of the hearth, over the top of the most recent book her best friend Ginny Weasley had lent her; Passionate Trousers. 'Do you want the short list or the long?'

'The short list. I believe I have more … pressing … matters to attend to this evening.'

Hermione stifled a snicker as her eyes skimmed over his lithe body, bathed in shadows from the fire behind him. It certainly was pressing, quite firmly, in fact, against the front of his pants. 'Hmmm, well, I'd have to say your eyes, your voice … and your fingers.'

'My eyes?'

'Yes, they're so expressive; they're like a window to your soul. I could lose myself in your eyes if I'm not careful,' Hermione said a matter-of-factly.

'And my voice?' Severus asked not breaking eye contact with his wife.

'Well,' she started, looking away as she put her book on the side table. 'It's quite a hypnotic voice and, well, and I find it quite sensual and erotic as well,' she finished, her cheeks pinking slightly. 'I-I mean, I found your lectures captivating when I was at school, but I'm sure that even if you were reading the whole bloody telephone directory, the effect would be just the same.'

Severus raised an eyebrow, but didn't reply. Instead, he went to the bookshelves and plucked a book off the bottom shelf. He made his way to his wife and pulled her to her feet, making their way to the shag-pile rug in the middle of the sitting room floor. With a mischievously evil glint in his eye, he opened the Glenfordshire fellytone directory, a present to Hermione from Arthur Weasley, cleared his throat and proceeded to read aloud.

'Abercroft, Brian. Double 0-four-three-nine-two,

Abercrombie, Alice. Double 0-seven-one-five-eight,

Abercrombie, Morgan. Double 0-three-three-five-one.'

By the time Severus had reached, 'Ashby, Jacqueline. Double 0-two-seve-three-seven,' Hermione was having trouble keeping her eyes open and desperately trying to keep from moaning.

However, Severus was not the Head of Slytherin for no reason. As the names progressed, the sexual undertones in his voice became more and more prominent and it was Hermione could do to remain standing.

At 'Dalreen, Singh. Double 0-six-nine-nine-two,' Hermione's legs could not support her weight any longer She half-fell, half-leaned against Severus. 'Please, no … no more. …You've …made …your …point,' she gasped.

'I beg to differ, my dear,' Severus said, not changing the tone of his voice. 'You see, I have not read, as you so elegantly stated, 'the whole bloody fellytone directory. I am at 'D'; there is still 'E' through 'Z' to come.'

'Mother of Merlin,' Hermione thought, 'his voice will be the death of me! Well, at least they know what to put on my tombstone;" Died, as horny as all hell, because of her husband's voice"!'

In the meantime, Severus flicked through the directory, reading aloud the occasional entry from 'E', 'F' and 'G'. At 'H', Hermione was lying on the floor and moaning loudly, having lost all abandon. Severus desperately wanted to toss the directory aside and fulfill his wife using other tools besides his voice, instead, a thought flashed through his mind. 'Let's see if I can fulfill her by my voice alone…'

"Henry, Thomas. Double O-nine-four-three-six."

Hermione writhed on the ground, sweat bespangling her brow. "Yes, oh yes, ungh!"

"Horace, John. Double O-four-six-twenty-two."

"I'm so close," she panted between laboured breaths.

By 'Robertson, Evan. Double 0-seven-six-zero-two,' Hermione's breathing was erratic and every sound uttered by those damnably wonderful lips of his sent a spark to her core and pushed her ever closer to the edge. She was fully aware that he knew what he was doing to her; it was difficult not to see the results. 'Bastard,' she muttered hoarsely.

'I doubt, my dear, that 'Robinson, Evan' is a bastard, though I believe,' he paused for a moment as he flicked ahead a few pages, 'that a 'Snape, Severus. Double 0-three-one-four-seven,' may fit the description,' he commented softly next to her ear, a smirk playing on his features. 'What do you think, my love? 'Snape, Severus. Double 0-three-one-four-seven'?'

That pushed Hermione over the edge. 'Gods! …Severus …oh, she moaned, her body being wracked by wave after crashing wave of pleasure. Severus had to use all his self-control not to take her right there, right then on their shag-pile rug.

As his wife's breathing slowly returned to normal, Severus leant back on his haunches and asked in a very casual tone, 'And, my fingers?'