Hello, All! It has definitely been too long since I've written something... I know.
I actually had a brand new chapter of "A State of Fire" almost ready to go and then my computer crashed and I completely lost it. Even though I have a sort of outline formulated it really bummed me out that I had to start over completely and so I am still working on it. I do, however, have a new little story here that will hopefully tide you over until then! It's short and sweet... and I hope that you enjoy it.
Thank you so much for reading!
-Carmabella
*Disclaimer- JK Rowling owns all. I own nothing.
It was very late when Severus Snape returned from the meeting with the Dark Lord and he was exhausted. He had managed to somehow escape the Cruciatus curse but he was one of the few. New Death Eater recruits had stepped forward to willingly receive the torture… desperate to prove their loyalty to their new Master.
Walking slowly from the apparition point, he shed his heavy cloak and Death Eater mask as he adjusted his eyes to the inky darkness of the quiet grounds outside of the castle.
Voldemort's younger followers, coerced by their parents or driven by their own blinding lust for power, had begun regularly turning up for the meetings. First Draco Malfoy. Then Parkinson. Zabini. Crabbe and Goyle. For each one of his students that chose to put on the ugly, sneering mask there was a stabbing pain in his chest… like the twist of a sharp knife. So young, brave and foolish, he knew that they did not understand the severity of their actions.
As he approached the castle grounds he looked up at the massive structure that had been his home and his safe haven for over half of his life. No matter what terrible disaster may befall him, he would die protecting the school and the students that slept so soundly within its walls.
Just as he was about to lower his gaze to continue into the castle and collapse into his favorite chair in the quiet safety of his chambers, a small flicker of light caught the corner of his eye.
It had happened so fast that he had almost missed it, but as he squinted hard against the darkness he saw it again. There. The astronomy tower. It wasn't much… but he could see a tiny point of light winking at him high above where he stood scowling in the courtyard.
It was a well known fact that had slowly spread around the school that the final battle was near. Instead of taking the sensible approach and staying put in their warm, safe beds, most of the student body lately opted for cavorting around the castle and its surrounding grounds past curfew; indulging in their unfulfilled desires during their last few precious weeks before the school year ended and the war began.
Unlike the rest of the faculty, who had been turning a blind eye to this sort of unseemly behavior, Snape had no qualms about breaking up these little trysts. The fact that one of the little dunderheads actually had the audacity to sneak up to the astronomy tower enraged him… and he decided to take a quick detour before retiring to his rooms. Willing to die for them or not... he would make the offending parties pay for their rule breaking as well as their utter lack of stealth and creativity.
Sweeping smoothly and silently through the empty halls of the corridors, he kept his eyes peeled for other breeches of curfew. It had been a long night and he was not in a merciful mood. Finding nothing else out of the ordinary, he finally came to the stairs that led up to the tower. Rubbing a hand across his face wearily, he cast a silencing charm that would aid him in creeping up on the deviants without giving them a chance to flee.
He came to the stop of the stairs and, drawing his wand just in case, turned a corner into the area where classes were held. It was empty. He had expected as much. The little light that he had seen had come from the balcony area that faced away from the castle… where the students could sit outside with the parchment and quills and take notes while sitting under the stars.
Snape crossed to the balcony. The filmy, almost blue light that was emanating from the nearly full moon was making it easier for him to move among the stone pillars that separated the classroom from the open space, and he stuck to the shadows, eagerly searching for the little flickering light that would guide him to his prey.
A slight sigh and a sudden little billowing of smoke caught at the edge of his vision, and he situated himself behind one of the pillars, his highly strained nose sniffing the air as a sweet, almost festive smell assaulted his nostrils. Frowning in confusion, he slowly peered around the pillar, careful not to alert whoever was on the balcony of his presence.
Cloves. He realized, seconds before he identified the person who was sitting alone under the stars. It smelled like cloves in tobacco... mixed with an underlying honeyed fragrance. Something familiar.
He knew that smell. His eyes widened and he fought to make sense of what he saw before him.
Sure enough, the source of both the sweet smelling smoke and the flickering light that he had seen from the ground was the burning-orange end of a long, clove cigarette… dangling from the small, delicate fingers of a certain muggleborn, know-it-all Gryffyndor Head Girl Princess. Hermione Granger.
Her.
He blinked, unsure of how to proceed. As the snarky professor in him tried to think of just what he would give her detention for first, the man in him acknowledged the odd and strangely erotic vision that he had stumbled onto.
He groaned inwardly. She had become impossible to ignore.
She was everywhere. In his classes. Brightening the room during the monotonous Order meetings.
Snape had long ago noticed that the bushy haired little girl that he had first met seven years ago had grown into a woman. She had grown taller over the years, and the limbs that once seemed awkward and gangly had become shapely and willowy… like a dancers.
She had also filled out quite nicely... her breasts and hips both rounded and womanly without overpowering her slight frame. Her hair was still riotous, but in the most pleasing way. It was now impossibly long… ending almost at the small of her back… and he had often imagined burying his hands in it while she worked diligently in his potions class.
Her skin. Her eyes. Her mind...
Merlin, her mind.
And her light. Her heart. Her bravery.
She was lovely.
A lovely, ever-present thorn in his side.
The last thing he needed after an evening spent with the Dark Lord was a late-night confrontation with the object of his secret, illicit desire.
She was sitting in a chair under the stars, her back to him. Her long, bare legs were crooked over the left arm of the chair at the knees, her feet dangling off of the floor. This made it so she was sitting slightly in profile to him…so could see almost half of her face illuminated by the light from the moon. She was smoking with her right hand… bringing the cigarette to her lips, and occasionally ashing it into a small white enamel ash tray that was floating next to her with the help of a handy levitation spell. She brought her left hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose between her fingers, sighing heavily, and Snape suddenly realized how much older she seemed than her eighteen years of edge.
Eighteen, the red-blooded male part of him whispered before he firmly shut him out.
Even if she was legally an adult she was still a student, and still breaking curfew. And smoking on school grounds, no less.
Still, something kept him from confronting her until after she had finished her cigarette. Even though he was by no means a regular smoker, he had been known to have one or two after he had been drinking heavily… and even though he believed it was nasty habit he found it strangely arousing to watch her wrap her mouth around the end of the cigarette, inhaling as the end of it grew a brighter, electric orange and then exhaling, the cloud of fragrant smoke billowing out from between her lips. It was almost like a ballet the way she smoked.
Finishing, she put the cigarette out in the floating ashtray, (it was not her first, he discovered,) and exhaled to blow out her last cloud of smoke before sighing heavily and leaning her head against the back of the chair.
Shaking himself from his reverie and forcing himself to ignore the way the moonlight made her skin glow, he removed the silencing charm and cleared his throat loudly.
She was on her feet before he could blink, whipping around to face him… her brown eyes wide with a mixture of guilt and startled indignation. It took her a moment to see who it was lurking in the shadows, but when he finally emerged, arms crossed and brow furrowed, she sighed and pursed her lips… her shoulders hunching slightly forward in resignation.
Then, at the same time, they both realized just what she was wearing. Or lack thereof.
He swallowed hard.
No, he thought to himself, his eyes sweeping over her body, Hermione Granger is not a little girl anymore.
Here, on the balcony of the astronomy tower in the middle of the night, alone with her potions professor… she was dressed only in a simple white dress shirt. And, from the looks of it, since it was a bit chilly… she was wearing nothing underneath. He could tell right away that the shirt was one of the uniform shirts that each of the students at Hogwarts had to wear every day. However, given that this shirt ended at her knees and that she had rolled the sleeves up multiple times to prevent them from falling over her hands, Snape could only conclude that this particular shirt belonged to a male member of the student body and did not, in fact, belong to her.
His eyes narrowed as he noted the slight fraying of the collar.
Weasley.
Suppressing the sudden, unexplainable surge of jealousy, he dragged his eyes away from her body to look up into her face. Red rimmed eyes blinked at him and she looked away, trying in vain to disguise a sniffle by forcing a cough. She had been crying.
Something turned over in his chest.
She was obviously humiliated at the prospect of seeming weak in front of her dreaded potions professor, so he walked to the edge of the balcony without saying a word, looking out over the grounds, giving her a moment to collect herself. To collect himself.
He shook himself and waited.
Severus Snape, contrary to popular belief, was not a heartless man. Far from it. Impatient, yes. Irritable, without a doubt… but Hermione was a brilliant witch and he had enough respect for her to let her pull herself together.
Not to mentioned the fact that his aforementioned heart had found its place with her... even if she wasn't aware of it.
Once he heard her sniffles subside, he turned to face her again. She had regained control of herself and was looking at him warily.
"Would you be so kind, Miss Granger, as to inform me of the reason why you are out of bed and wandering around the castle in the middle of the night dressed so… indecently?"
She sighed, raising a hand to impatiently push a few stray curls away from her face, and his keen eyes were drawn to a small splash of red that stood out against the creamy white skin of her throat. He took a step toward her and, ignoring her tiny gasp of shock, shifted the remaining heavy, fragrant curtain of her hair from one shoulder to the other, exposing two or three more angry red blemishes. His jaw tightened.
Realizing what had caught his eye, Hermione's eyes grew wide and she shook him off, scurrying to the opposite side of the wide balcony.
"Miss Granger," he began, his eyes slowly roving over her scantily clad form. He catalogued another fresh bruise on her right thigh. Filed away the fact that her lower lip was a touch more swollen than usual. Heat surged through his veins. "Speak."
Later, Hermione would not be able to figure out why she let her emotions get the best of her. Why she chose him as her confidante. Maybe it was because she was used to following this particular man's quiet commands. Maybe it was because she knew, on some level, that he wouldn't laugh at her. Maybe it was the old, familiar dark twist of desire that she felt whenever she was near him. Whatever the reason, she found her lips parting of their own accord, her words being torn from her as if she had been dosed with veritaserum.
"I was a virgin before tonight."
He blinked and swallowed hard... unsure of how to proceed. She spared him and forged ahead.
"The war is coming. Everyone knows."
He nodded stiffly... neither confirming or denying it and urging her to continue.
"I'm sure that you've noticed that the majority of the student population has been shagging all about the castle."
Again, he nodded.
She sighed, and Severus just barely caught the glint of a single tear coursing down her cheek before she impatiently dashed it away. The fingers of his left hand flexed once and then went still.
"I'm not sure if you know, but I've been seeing Ronald on and off since Yule."
Her voice wavered and she paused. He said nothing, once again giving her time to collect herself.
Oh, he knew. Of course he knew.
"It's been more off than on... since we can't seem to be in a room together for longer than ten minutes without fighting... and, well, since the very beginning... he's been very insensitive and impatient when it came to talking about...sex. I wasn't ready, and I told him so. I wasn't interested in some fumbling romp in an abandoned classroom or in an empty broom closet."
She paused, and in the ensuing silence seemed to remember just whom she was talking to.
"I'm sorry, Professor... I shouldn't be-"
"Go on, Miss Granger."
He had a feeling that he knew exactly how her story was going to end and he felt the rage rise in his throat like bile. He swallowed it. Innocent Hermione. Sweet Hermione.
He motioned for her to continue.
She stared at him silently for a moment, eyes shining... and she looked so young.
In an instant, however, she squared her shoulders and set her jaw... and there. There was the woman. No longer a girl.
Bold as brass, she crossed to her abandoned chair and retrieved the little packet of cigarettes... pulling one out and putting it between her lips. She paused, unsure, then seemed to make up her mind and offered the box to him.
He crossed to her wordlessly and plucked the box from her hand with long, slender fingers. Retrieving one and putting it to his lips, he stepped closer to her and lit hers with his wand. The bright orange of the flame turned the rich brown of her irises almost amber.
After he lit his own cigarette, he crossed back to his corner of the balcony... patiently waiting for her to continue.
She blew out a sweetly scented stream of smoke and cleared her throat.
"Once it started becoming obvious that the war was going to be happening sooner rather than later he became more... persistent... and I started running out of reasons to say no. What if I died? What if I was captured by Death Eaters? Wouldn't it be better to lose it to someone that I trusted? To someone that was supposed to love me? I didn't want to die a virgin."
She paused to inhale. Exhale.
He mimics her... trying to retain some semblance of calm.
"And who else was there but Ron? Even he barely registers the fact that I'm a girl sometimes... and we're dating. I can't even imagine what the rest of the male student body thinks."
She lowered her gaze to the school grounds below and he is dumbfounded.
He took in the rumpled sensuality of her; tousled curls, long bare legs, bruised lips.
How could she not know?
She took another deep breath and he knew immediately that this was it.
Here it comes.
"So, tonight, I decided that I was going to do it. I passed him a note at dinner telling him to meet me in the Room of Requirement at 10pm. The look on his face... he was so pleased."
Her voice broke and she stopped trying to keep the tears at bay.
"I told him to be gentle. I told him to go slowly. I thought that since he had done it before that he would know how to take care of me... how to make it less painful. He tried, I think. He would never purposefully hurt me... I know that. But he did. I was crying and he didn't notice until after it was over... and he told me that all girls cry their first time... but I didn't know... I didn't know... that it was going to be like that. That it was going to be so awful."
He felt as if he would fly into a million pieces. He hadn't previously known that it was possible to feel so many things at once... jealousy. Despair. An overwhelming surge of love and a urgent desire to maim the youngest Weasley boy until he was no longer recognizable.
Her shoulders started shaking with silent sobs and before he knew what he was doing he was crossing to her and plucking her cigarette from her fingers before casting it aside... the remains of his own long forgotten.
He wrapped her in his arms.
She stiffened, her breath coming in on a ragged gasp.
Just as he was about to step back and make a hasty, mortified escape to the dungeons she melted against him and buried her face into his chest... her sobs intensifying once again at his offer of comfort.
"Afterwards... he fell asleep. He didn't even hold me. Didn't kiss me. I... I couldn't stay there. I couldn't lay there next to him."
Her sobs lessened and softened into deep shuddering breaths. Her fingers twisted into the fabric of his cloak.
"I come up here sometimes... to be alone. I know that I shouldn't be smoking. It's a nasty habit and I don't do it often. I guess I just needed a secret, you know? Something that was only mine."
He hummed in agreement, the sweet, heady smell of her hair strong in his nose.
"After it was over I pulled on the first article of clothing that I could find and ran up here. I don't know what I was thinking... I was just so upset. God... I could have run into anyone..."
She paused and lifted her head to look into his face and their eyes met. Only then did they realize just how close they were.
He could smell the sweet scent of cloves on her breath and knew that her lips would taste just as sweet; the cloying residue left over from the cigarette that would dissolve on his tongue...
"But I ran into you."
The breathy, trusting tone of her voice caused a surge of something almost violent within him... something that he could not and did not want to name.
He tried to fight it... tried to hide it... but he knew that he had failed miserably by the widening of her eyes.
His eyes were burning into her and Hermione gasped as the positively molten heat behind them.
...Did he? Could he possibly?
Yes.
He desired her.
The realization set her very skin ablaze.
How long had she wanted this wizard? Contented herself with furtive glances and daydreams? He was her Professor. A member of the Order. She had never suspected that he thought of her as anything other than a silly little girl...
But there was no mistaking it. It was all there.
He wanted her.
The realization that she could have skipped the complete disaster that was her earlier tryst with Ron... that she could have had this wizard... this man... if she had only thought to ask nearly choked her with grief.
Her lovely, full lower lip trembled as she brought her shaking hands up to trace the planes of his face.
He leaned into her touch and she drew in a ragged breath.
"I am such a fool," she whispered brokenly.
He shook his head silently, pulling her ever closer.
"How could you have possibly known, Hermione?"
She shivered at the sound of her name coming on his lips.
"I would have chosen you. I wish that I would have-"
He silenced her with two slender fingers against her mouth.
"Hermione. Stop. You are young and you are upset. You don't know what you are saying-"
It was her turn to silence him with a brush of her fingers.
"I would have chosen you."
He shook his head and she took his face between her hands... forcing him to meet her eyes.
"Look."
He did.
In a moment, it was done. And he knew.
He slipped from her mind and when he came back to himself they were both trembling.
Without speaking, he once again used one hand to lift the heavy length of her hair away from her neck before slowly bending to press his lips against the angry red marring her skin.
With a whispered healing spell followed by a hot, wet, open mouthed kiss the mark vanished.
He repeated the process with the other two bruises and by the time he was finished Hermione was a quivering mass of need.
He slowly trailed his lips up the column of her throat before placing a tender kiss below her ear. He inhaled deeply and let out a quiet groan. This was insane. He should lend her his cloak and send her back to her room. He should let her go.
...But go where? Back to Weasley?
No. Certainly not.
Making his decision, he pulled back to look into her face. Her flushed cheeks... her labored breathing.
Merlin... he hadn't even kissed her yet.
"Choose me now, Hermione."
His voice was dark and velvet and commanding and imploring and she had never been so aroused in her entire life.
Deciding that the time for talking was long since past, Hermione slipped her hands into his hair and pulled... effectively sealing his lips with her own.
Everything was wild after that. She felt a spinning and a tugging and suddenly she was no longer on the astronomy tower but in a bedroom that she could only assume was his.
He eyed her warily but she erased his doubts by ripping his mouth open with her own.
His lips were sweet from their earlier cigarette and his tongue slipped into her mouth so expertly and she had never wanted anything so much in her life.
She pressed the length of her body against his urgently... trying desperately to get ever closer to him. Impatiently, she undid the fastener to his cloak and it fell to the floor in a pool of black.
He eagerly buried his fingers into her hair and used it for leverage, tearing his mouth away from hers to trail hot, wet kisses down her throat... pausing to trace her collarbone with his tongue.
The sound that was torn from her throat was barely human and she snaked one tentative hand between them to press her palm against the hardness straining against his trousers.
He gasped and something feral tore through him. She was all that he could see... all that he could smell... all that he could taste and it was driving him insane. She was still wearing the Weasel's shirt and he grabbed two handfuls of the material and pulled... sending buttons scattering all about the room.
Her startled gasp brought him back to his senses. Her eyes were wide and slightly fearful and he mentally kicked himself for not having a better handle on his control.
There would be plenty of time for fucking later. He needed to make this beautiful for her. Make her see how wonderful that it could be.
With him.
He kissed her softly in apology and she relaxed against him once again... giving his cock an experimental squeeze.
Gently, he pulled her hand away... kissing the inside of her wrist before sliding the tattered remains of the offending shirt off of her slim shoulders.
She was so unbearably lovely... all dips and hollows and milky, perfect skin. She was completely naked except for the tiniest pair of knickers that he had ever seen... the scrap of blue lace doing nothing to conceal her desire from him.
Slowly, methodically, he disrobed. His jacket, then his shirt... followed by his trousers, socks and shoes. She was memorized... her breath growing heavier with every article of clothing that he removed.
He was pale and scarred. Long limbed and lean-muscled. He was beautiful.
When he removed his underwear, she automatically reached out to touch his flesh...fascinated by the look and feel of him. It was long and slender with a slight upward curve... much more appealing than Ron's frightening girth.
He let her stroke once... twice... three times before he stopped her hand once again.
He smirked and Hermione found herself growing that much wetter.
"Let's get a bit more comfortable, shall we?"
He led her to the bed and laid her down gently before plunging them into another searing kiss. When they broke apart they were both panting and Hermione arched against him... desperate for more contact.
Severus slowly trailed his long fingers down her throat and along her collarbone... following with his lips and tongue and teeth until he found a nipple and sucked.
She arched again, and the mewling sounds that she was making went straight to his groin.
He had to have her soon... but first...
He inched down her body... first to the other breast and then lower... trailing kisses in his wake.
When he finally reached the tiny bit of lace he eased it down over her hips... kissing one thigh and then the other before pressing his mouth against her and whispering the same healing spell that he had used before on her neck... causing all of the discomfort that lingered from her evening with Ron to fade.
She felt a rush of clean, warm air dance across her skin and knew that he had used a charm to remove all traces of the younger boy from her body... inside and out... and she was grateful.
Using his thumbs to open her slightly, he dipped his tongue inside of her... alternating between broad sweeps and darting, flickering laps. He circled her clit once before sucking it into his mouth... repeating the process when she cried out sharply.
If she had only known that it would feel like this... that he could make her feel like this...
No matter. They had here and now.
All too soon she was on the edge of a great precipice and she instinctually knew what was coming. She reached down and pulled his face to hers.
"Now, Severus."
He dipped his head in a nod... taking a moment to line their bodies up and wrap her legs around his waist before sliding home.
And home he was. She was perfect. She was heaven. She was everything.
She looked down into her lovely face and waited until she opened her eyes and focused on him.
"Yes," she breathed, and he thrust again.
She was so tight... so hot. So perfectly, deliciously wet.
Soon, she was meeting his thrusts, arching her hips off the mattress to crash against his.
Knowing that he would not be able to last much longer, he reached his hand between them and circled her clit once between taking it between his forefinger and thumb to squeeze gently...
...And she was there... shattering into a million tiny pieces and taking him with her.
He collapsed on top of her... and she wrapped around him like a vine... Her long, lovely limbs twining about his.
Afraid that he was hurting her, he rolled to his side and pulled her with him so that she was draped across his chest as they both worked to catch their breath.
He felt ten years younger and was so unbelievably happy that he felt like laughing. It wasn't until he felt her tears against his skin that he was able to emerge from his stupor.
"Hermione?" He asked, alarmed.
She lifted her head to meet his gaze
She was smiling through her tears.
Merlin, was he ever done for.
"That was... beautiful," she whispered before touching her lips to his in a gentle kiss of promise.
In that moment he knew... without a shadow of a doubt... that he would survive this war.
As he held her while she slept he knew that he would do anything to secure himself a life with her at his side.
When he kissed her awake the next morning he knew that he would spend the rest of his days making things beautiful for her.
...Because she had chosen him.
Thanks for reading, everyone! I hope that you enjoyed it!
-C