Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe that is all the wonderful creation of J. !
She just wanted to feel something.
It hadn't hit her straight away, the numbness. After the war everyone had been so caught up in the high of their victory, the celebrations, the grief and relief accompanied by guilt that they'd survived when others hadn't.
But a year on from the war Hermione found herself feeling numb, empty.
Everyone had started settling down and rebuilding. No more hunting horcruxes, duels and constantly watching for the sign of a Death Eater who might kill, or worse capture them.
Instead she found herself falling into the routine of waking up, sitting at her office desk, coming home, cooking dinner, seeing Ron, fucking Ron, going to sleep. It all felt so… dull.
She'd chucked Ron a few months ago. He'd done nothing wrong, quite the opposite; to most girls he'd be the perfect boyfriend. Sweet, kind, funny, he doted on her after the war, buying her flowers, asking her how she was and fantasising about the future.
She found it suffocating.
Every night she dreaded coming back to his endless conversations about nothing, his sloppy sweet kisses and worst of all the tedious love making every night, after which he rolled over, kissed her, told her how much he loved her and went to bed.
Yet she still felt nothing when she dumped him. Perhaps slight guilt at the poor puppy dog hurt look on his face but still no pain or sadness.
Instead she found herself falling into another routine but in this one she just came home, cooked dinner and went to bed on her own.
Except over the last few months she'd started to notice him.
His sarcastic comments and dark humour suddenly appealed to her and as she watched him she realised, maybe he was like her, maybe he felt numb too.
Then tonight he'd caught her eye.
She'd been sat at the table for the Order's monthly dinner, everyone's mundane chatter buzzing around her like nonsensical static, she could tune in if she wanted to but why bother?
Glancing across the table at Snape she watched as he methodically cut up his food, ignoring everyone around him just like her.
She didn't startle when he looked up, nor did she look away, instead she found herself returning the professor's stare, somehow intrigued.
His dark eyes stared out of his blank expression and she felt a strange affinity, "are you numb too?" her mind whispered.
He looked away.
She wondered if that look is what caused her current predicament as she arched her back, letting her head full back on his shoulder.
She wondered if it was what caused him to follow her into the library after dinner, to walk up behind her without a word, slide his hands around her waist and pull her back against him.
She'd been shocked at first, the strongest feeling she'd had in a long time. She found herself standing still, waiting as his fingers ghosted along the skin where her jumper met her jeans.
One hand slid up across her stomach and over her bra, she felt her breathing catch as his fingers deftly slipped into the cup, finding her nipple and twisting it deliciously between his finger tips.
She relaxed back into his body as his hand moved between playing with each breast, his dark robes seeming to encompass her, brushing the sides of her arms. His remaining hand quickly popped the button of her jeans, pulled down the zipper and moved inside. She rolled her hips forward as he teased her over the fabric of her underwear, pressing his fingers firmly over her hot quim, then tracing the edge of her underwear but never dipping inside.
She could feel his breath, which had quickened like hers, brushing the hairs on the back of her head and as she further relaxed into him, the hard evidence of his arousal pressing into her bum.
Experimentally she ground her behind into his crotch; he let out a sharp breath, moving his hips back, quickly twisting one of her nipples more harshly than before and finally slipping his hand into her underwear.
She let out a moan, distracted, as his cool fingers touched her clit, moving in deft circles over her ball of nerves. Dipping down into her hot quim, with first one then two fingers he brought her wetness back up to help rub her clit.
It was at this moment she let out her first moan, her head falling back, allowing herself to be at the completely mercy of the feelings his hands were summoning from within her.
Reading her body his fingers moved to concentrating on rubbing tight circles over her little bud as she felt herself building, her hips rocking shamelessly against his hand.
Her orgasm hit her like a truck, her body going tense, legs quivering as she arched back against him, her hands balling into fists in the side of his robes, eyes fluttering shut, mouth parting as she moaned in pleasure.
As she came down from her orgasm she realised the hand playing with her breasts had moved to flat across her stomach, holding her up as her legs trembled. Her breathing came harshly, the scent of her strong in the air and she could feel the flush across her face and chest.
Leaning down his breath bushed her ear "I hope that made you feel less numb, Miss Granger".
Startled her hands uncurled from his robes.
Removing his hand from her jeans he zipped and buttoned them up, his other hand reappearing from under her jumper, smoothing it down.
The air felt cool as he stepped away from her and without another word walked out of the room, leaving her feeling more confused but alive than she had in a long time.
Authors notes: Thanks for reading this short piece, any reviews will be greatly appreciated, I always love to hear from everyone!
I've been struggling to finish another story for months after my last post and then this little one just came to me all at once, typical!