Authors Note: I'm back! Again! The husband and I have had an exciting last several months which involved a big move. I have not abandoned Tomes, and will hopefully be picking up that series again very soon. In the meantime, enjoy this little story. It's a bit ooc for Severus, but lets just assume he's tamed a little with age ;)
See you all again very soon!
~C.B.
Carry Me
There comes a time in every mans life when he has to choose between what is right, and what is easy. Hermione Granger was, unfortunately, neither of these things.
He had been watching her for some time now; it was hard not to when she was directly across from him in a very quiet and empty library. Hermione was sitting head bowed over some dusty tome, hand occasionally moving across a sheet of parchment. There was a smear of ink on her wrist, but she didn't seem to notice. He did though. He always noticed, especially the little things that she did. He didn't know when his fellow professor had become so intriguing, but now it was far to late to ignore. Her little quirks were endearing, and he had memorized almost every single one. For instance, she rarely traveled the same route through the halls of Hogwarts. Though there were only so many ways, she never traveled the same way twice in one week. He suspected this was a bit of paranoia brought about by the war and he could hardly blame her, because he did the exact same thing. At dinner, she always unfolded her napkin with the greatest care before smoothing it over her things. He knew this because her seat was right beside his. Sometimes, guiltily, he wished it was his head between her thighs and his hair she was caressing instead of that damnable piece of linen. It felt perverse in the worst way imaginable, but he just couldn't stop himself.
Hermione was his former student. This in itself should have been enough to quell the strange yearnings in his heart and loins. In her youthful prime she had been a bushy headed, buck-toothed annoyance of the grandest caliber. She and her gaggle of do-gooder friends caused him endless stress migraines, and that damnable Potter had almost cost him his life. But, it was for her, for Lily, and that death he would have gladly taken infinity times over if it could mean that some piece of her would live on; Potter genes or not. Surviving had not even been a consideration, so when he'd awoken in the hospital ward of Hogwarts he'd thought he'd come back as a ghost, and that to him would have been a fate worse than death. To roam endlessly the same halls he had traveled for so many years and had longed to escape. Much to the surprise of everyone and to his chagrin, he had survived his life threatening neck wound. His recovery had been slow, and his once powerful voice had become a hoarse whisper.
When Hermione had returned to Hogwarts to become the new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, he was both intrigued and apprehensive. She had tied his record for youngest professor at Hogwarts at the tender age of twenty-one and quickly became a favorite of both the students and staff, himself included. She was just as inquisitive as always, but strangely he realized he didn't mind so much anymore. Slowly, the working relationship became something deeper. Hermione had begun to sit beside him at meals and he would wait for her after her classes. They practiced on improving his voice and though her true love was her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Hermione was just as talented with potions and started creating tonics to sooth his throat. As his voice grew stronger, so did his feelings. He enjoyed her, and she seemed to enjoy him. Over the years the feelings for Lily had been fading into a pleasant backdrop for something room for…
His thoughts were broken by a sudden swear word and the clattering of Hermione's ink pot hitting the stone floor. "Shit!" she swore again, this time through her teeth as she quickly grabbed her wand and scourgified the small puddle of ink away. As she sat up, he shot her a small smirk when he saw a rather large smear of black right across the top of her small nose. With a sigh, she wiped her ink stained hands on her black robe, "Ugh, still a klutz as always, right Severus? What a mess I am,"
Severus chuckled, "Well, I must say your sailor mouth is far more surprising than the spilling of an ink pot. What a stroke of fortune the library is empty so that no young minds can be tainted by your wicked ways."
Hermione smiled warmly at him, "Indeed, wouldn't want anyone thinking we're normal in our free time,right?"
Normal. This is what drew him to her. She thought they, he, were normal. His smirk spread to the other corner of his lips in a full smile as he reached out and wiped his thumb gently down the bridge of her nose, effectively removing most of the black ink, "I suppose," he murmured, "although, anyone who cannot notice an ink stain that big on their own face could hardly be considered normal."
The pink tinge to her cheeks was a pleasant sight, especially because Severus knew he had put it there. Although getting Hermione to blush was relatively easy, it always felt nice, and lately he had found himself trying to make this occur as often as possible: a whispered word in her ear at dinner under the guise of a sarcastic jab, or even a compliment on her hair not resembling a dust ball was often enough to do the trick. Any excuse to touch her however was welcome and he would take what he could get. It was never enough, but it would have to do.
Raising her arms above her head in a long stretch Hermione yawned,"Well, I'd imagine its long past dinner now. I'll have to ring the house elves to bring something to my room." Severus's brow furrowed imperceptibly and wordlessly he began to gather both his quills and parchment and hers. This was the part of the day he hated the most, the saying goodbye. He would trade his voice all over again for the chance to never have to say goodbye to her again. Trading it for "good morning," would be much nicer. He stood up with their things tucked under his arm and was surprised to see she hadn't moved but was looking at him through her long eyelashes. Time stood still for a few long moments, eyes locked in time. Eventually she scooted her chair out and together they walked through the library doors.
"Severus, why do you always carry my things?"
The staircase shifted below their feet and moved to the left, 'Hm, why indeed…' he thought as he turned his head to look at her, "Are you offended?" his voice was gruffer than he intended it to be, but if it bothered her she didn't let it show.
She met his gaze evenly and shrugged, her brown curls bobbing along with the movement of her shoulders, "No, but it's something you've always done. I truly do appreciate it, I was just wondering."
The staircase came to a stop and they continued the trek to Hermione's quarters. Severus carefully weighed his words before he spoke and decided it was best to not let to much be revealed, "Habit," He said simply, "I couldn't stand to see you drop anymore items and muss them up. It's just easier for me to carry them." This explanation was all rubbish of course. What he really meant was,'Because I love you. I would do anything for you. Anything.'
Hermione smiled tellingly, "Do you really want me to believe that?"
"It's the truth."
"Really now?"
Severus stopped dead in his tracks and gave her the best glare he could muster, "You are looking far to much into this Miss Granger."
Hermione's smile spread all the way into a grin, "Your eye crinkles are showing."
"Are you calling me old Miss Granger?"
"No, I just know you well. When your eye crinkles are showing it means you're trying not to smile. You're just giving me a hard time. Unless you really want me to carry my things so you're not bothered."
Damn. Severus managed the best snarl he could before turning on his heel and continuing down the hall, Hermione chuckling to herself behind him.
They finally reached her door and a painting of a large male lion resting on a boulder raised its head to look at her. Severus rolled his eyes, once a Gryffindor, always a Gryffindor.
"Bellator corvus." she said, and her door swung open.
Surprised, Severus raised an eyebrow at her, "You changed your password to 'courageous raven?'"
Hermione held out her hand and Severus handed her her parchments, "What? Upset I didn't tell you I changed it?"
"No," he smirked,"just an odd choice. I'd think something like 'fluffy bunny,' or 'ginger lover' would be more appropriate."
"I am no longer with Ronald Severus," she huffed,"you know this. We haven't been together for years."
With a soft chuckle, Severus reached for her and brushed a stray curl away from her eyes, "I know. But it is so fun to tease."
He realized, a little to late, that he may have gone to far. Never before had he touched her so intimately or with such intention. Quickly, he shoved the offending hand in his robe pocket and directed his eyes at the floor, his face taking on a mask of indifference, "Forgive me," he muttered,"Your hair was causing me a distraction. You would think after all these years you would have learned to tame that wild mess." Damn. Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut? After all these years of knowing her he still managed to make cutting jabs. What a fool he was.
"Have dinner with me." Hermione murmured.
Severus's black eye's snapped up to meet her brown. Hermione smiled kindly, turned, and walked inside her room. Realizing that she had not given him another option, he followed. The door shut and the lion who had been watching intently finally laid his head back down on his paws, tail swishing to and fro.
Soon they were eating dinner at Hermione's small coffee table while sitting on the floor. She had ordered yellow curry, one of Severus's favorites. On top of that they had had a little to much fire whisky, hence why they were both sitting cross legged beside one another, backs against the couch. Severus had to admit, he was quite a bit smashed. His black frock coat lay draped over the top of the couch and his shoes were kicked off and mixed up with Hermione's under the table.
"I think this was your true intention all along," he rumbled, "to get me piss faced."
Hermione made a pleasant humming noise before resting her head on his shoulder, "Hmm, you could be right. I've been bad."
He snorted, trying to ignore the pounding in his chest and resist from telling her how good she smelled and said seriously, "You could never be bad."
"Oh?" she moved a little to quickly and ended up catching the top of her head on his chin, "Ow! What did you move for? Don't believe me? I'll prove it to you,"Hermione scooted away from him, looked him dead in the eye and said, "Once, I wrote a paper for Harry."
Severus chuckled and shook his head, "Thats not bad at all. Expected actually"
"But," she held up her hand and poked Severus in the chest, "I answered a bunch of the questions wrong. To show him a lesson," she gave a wicked smile, "and it was a potions paper."
Severus barked out a laugh, head falling back onto the couch cushion, "I couldn't tell you which one it might have been, he was a dreadful student."
Hermione giggled, sounding much younger than her age and scooted between his legs, settled her back against his chest and placed her head once again on his shoulder, "See? I told you I could be bad." His sharp intake of breath didn't seem to phase her because she simply picked up his left hand and began inspecting his palm, tracing the lines she found with her fingers, "Sorry," she said not sounding very sorry at all,"fire whiskey makes me bold. Is this bad of me too?"
He swallowed hard, his voice much deeper that usual, "It could be if you keep that up."
She kept tracing his palm, gentler than she was before, "Why? Does this bother you?"
In this moment, Severus decided that the truth would be better than a lie. The fire whiskey clouding his mind along with the rhythmic movement of Hermione's fingers wasn't helping him conjure an acceptable excuse either, "Yes. In…certain ways." He really didn't want to elaborate any further. Though he knew Hermione was a full grown woman, he didn't know exactly how naive or experienced she was when it came to the sexual arts, and he certainly didn't want to embarrass himself or her. He wasn't the most experienced himself anyway, and that wasn't something he wanted to let her know.
She sighed and pressed her back into his chest again, her nose and lips suddenly against his neck, "Severus, would you hold me?" her breath on his skin was hot and seemed to hit him square between the legs.
Desperately fighting the urge to grab her waist and pull her against him, he managed to hoarsely whisper, "Are you sure…this is not something you would regret? We both are intoxicated Hermione; I would hate for you to not look at me the same if I do what you ask."
Her hand left his and came to gently turn his cheek so they could look at one another, "Severus, why do you always carry my things for me?"
He swallowed hard, "I already told you why,"
"No," she insisted, brown eyes unwavering and suddenly very clear, "I want the truth."
Severus shut his eyes and shook his head slowly, "Hermione,"
"Please," she touched his cheek again.
With a defeated sigh, Severus brought both of his arms to wrap tightly around her, pulling her as close to him as he possibly could, burying his face in her mass of curls, "The things you do to me," he whispered hotly in her ear,"are far more powerful than any magic the greatest witch or wizard could ever conjure. I carry your things because that is all I allow myself to do. I wouldn't just carry your things though Hermione, I would carry you, wherever you wanted to go. I would carry you across mountains, oceans, and even the afterlife. All you would have to do is say, because I am far to much a coward to ask permission."
For a moment he thought she was pulling away, but instead she turned to face him and straddle his lap. The warmth of her groin against his was unmistakable, and Severus groaned as her fingers wrapped tightly in his hair and pulled back so his face tilted up to meet hers, "Severus," she murmured, "I would let you carry me anywhere. But, allow me to carry you as well. You don't need to be alone with your feelings, because I love you," before she could finish Severus had wrapped his long fingers around the back of her neck and brought her mouth crashing down on his.
"Oh," her voice was small as his lips left her mouth and began sucking where neck met shoulder. Severus became aware that he was saying, "I love you, I love you," over and over but couldn't seem to stop himself. In between the movement of hands and lips caressing skin, Hermione had somehow managed to pull him down on top of her, removing her blouse and bra when she could manage to wriggle around his groping digits. He pulled away and yanked down her skirt, only to realize she was wearing no panties. This fact not only threw him off kilter, but she was bare and trimmed down to nothing. His member throbbed painfully.
He released a groan, "Oh you are a bad girl," as he began stripping down himself. Before he knew it, he too was naked and between her trembling legs. There would be no foreplay tonight, everything was urgent. If he didn't have her now he knew he would die. Severus positioned himself and looked down into her face, flushed and wide eyed with unmistakable excitement. "Hermione, I haven't done this in a very long time," he blurted out, "forgive me if its over to soon."
She gave him an encouraging smile and ground her hips against him, "We have all night," she said huskily, "please Severus, don't make me wait anymore."
Severus leaned down and captured her lips in an almost violent kiss, his hardness melting into her warmth and they both moaned out loud. He began to move, and she began to move, and before they knew it they were both being carried far away.