All recognizable characters belong to the great J.K. Rowling and I receive nothing from this bit of drivel.
Flames are not welcome. This is far from being a polished story, but I felt like sharing anyways.
Please do not read if you are not of legal age in your country. This isn't that in depth, but it is definitely adult.
Masquerade
Hermione Granger stood in the huge ballroom watching the people surrounding her. Harry had been whisked away by the Minister of Magic to dance with some stick thin woman, and Ron was being followed by his quidditch fans. People in brightly colored outfits and masks danced around her. Only one person caught her eye.
Determined to not stand alone for the entire dance for the 10th time running, Hermione approached the solitary figure, taking in what she could see about him. His face was covered by a black feather mask with a comically long nose, and he wore long black robes. His hair was black and long, down to his shoulders, probably a wig, part of the masquerade. Even his hands were clad in black, soft leather gloves.
The dark eyes shining out from the mask followed her progress across the hall until she stopped next to him. They both watched the revolving mass of colors before them.
"Don't you have a dance partner?" He asked, his voice reaching her easily despite the music.
"I haven't found one that keeps me interested." She answered.
"And what does it take to keep you interested?"
"Intelligent conversation, an attention span longer than three minutes, and no horrid stalker fans." Hermione huffed thinking of the other two parts of the Golden Trio.
When the music changed the stranger held out his hand. "Then allow me to try to keep you interested."
She appraised him through her feline mask and accepted his hand. Together they danced through the other couples, stepping with the music. She felt like she was being wrapped up in his robes, almost swallowed by the blackness. The intensity of his gaze held her captive.
"It surprises me that you do not have a partner for this ball, after all, it is partially in your honor." The dark man commented.
"And it surprises me what some people forget." She answered bitterly.
"Ah, but some do not." He whispered, pulling her close.
"I have seen no evidence to the contrary."
"I haven't forgotten."
"And what do you think you know?" Hermione stiffened in his arms, irritated by his tone.
"I know you." The nose of his mask lay against her cheek.
"The Profit doesn't report everything, so I hardly think you do."
"I was there." His breath hissed in her ear. "And I think I have met your requirements."
The song ended. "What?"
"Intelligent conversation, an attention span longer than three minutes, and no horrid stalker fans." He quoted. "Another dance?"
"What are you after?" Hermione demanded, matching each move of the dance.
"You."
His voice was full of desire and tickled at the back of her mind, but she couldn't quite place it. "You expect me to go off with some stranger?"
"Hardly. I expect you to go off with me."
"Quite full of yourself if you think I will." Immediately she tried to disengage from the dance.
He forced her close to his body and she could feel the heat radiating off of him. "I know you will."
Somehow they had reached the center of the dance floor and stood still. "And why is that?"
"Intelligent conversation, an attention span longer than three minutes, and no horrid stalker fans." His fingers ghosted down the side of her neck to her shoulder.
An involuntary shiver ran up her back at the touch. She had to admit she was quite intrigued by this man. "Very well. If you know me as well as you claim, you know I am hardly an easy target." Before she pulled away, she rocked her hips forward, grinding against him.
He was thrown off guard by her movement and went from semi hard to full on erect. Growling in his throat he crushed her to him, tracing her ear with the nose of his mask. Hermione took the upper hand when he was off balance and linked her hand in his, pulling him away from the crowd.
No one saw them approach the main doors and exit into the snowy night. He had, however, regained his balance and pulled her tight to his chest again. Before she could object, he disapparated them both, arriving at the end of a dark street, snow still drifting down slowly.
Another shiver went down her spine at the cold and he wrapped his robe around her, leading her up the walk to a large black door. He gestured with his hand and the door opened before them, closing firmly when they cleared the entryway.
Candles sat in sconces on the walls, spreading a wavering light over the dark surfaces of the house. Instantly she was reminded of Hogwarts.
"Who are you?" Hermione asked, keenly aware she should have asked this before entering his house.
"Does it particularly matter?" He lifted her cat mask off of her face.
"You said you know me, but do I know you?"
"Oh yes, you do, though I think you will be surprised." He slowly covered her eyes with one gloved hand, allowing her to object. When she didn't, he removed his mask and leaned down, gently brushing his lips over hers.
"I am hardly surprised by much these days... Severus." She kissed back, leaning forward into his chest.
Smiling he lowered his hand, running a finger down her neck again, pausing on her pulse which was racing. "You really are the brightest witch of your age."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, as you should know by now."
"Good, I prefer the direct approach." He dived for her lips, running his hands over every bit of her he could reach, pulling her closer for more contact.
When she finally pulling back, her eyes were wide and she was panting, looking thoroughly kissed. A dark smile was tugging at Severus' lips as he tugged on the zipper running down the side of her dress. Hermione gasped and held up her gown before it could fall.
Snape simply began kissing her again, trailing down her cheek to her neck where he nibbled her jugular. Moaning, she tilted her head, allowing easier access. He reached up one hand and pulled at her hair until the pins fell out and it cascaded down her back, longer than it had ever been in school. Burying his thin fingers in her hair, he reviled in the anticipation of possessing the young witch. He gasped when cold fingers brushed over his chest, surprised that she had managed to undo the buttons on his jacket and shirt.
"Clever girl." He purred seductively, noticing the tiny shiver that ran down her spine, raising goosebumps on her flesh and making her nipples crinkle into rosy peaks.
"You have no idea." Hermione smiled in a very Slytherin way and Severus suddenly found himself standing in just his socks.
"I do hope those robes are returned, as they are my favorite." The former potions professor tried to take back control of the situation, but once again he was thrown off guard by the grinding of her hips against his.
"I might consider it, if you manage to hold my attention for longer than three minutes." The brunette vixen promised.
Severus Snape used the last bit of brainpower he still possessed to thank his lucky stars he had decided to attend the ball. As soon as the thought flitted across his consciousness, the Gryffindor slid her body down his and did something with her mouth that resulted in him falling unceremoniously into an armchair. Despite his lack of blood to his brain, he managed to keep Hermione quite enthralled for several hours.