They both looked around at the circular grey stone walls of the Astronomy Tower in surprise.
The warm night air breathed in and out of the many balconies, and the transparent domed ceiling gave a stunning view of the starred night sky, clear and inky black, dotted with sparkling constellations. Hermione let go of his arm, stepped forward and turned slowly around, appreciating the beauty of both the view and the intricate decor of the Astronomy platform, with its myriad astrological signs hewn into the stone bricks.
Severus was the first to speak.
"This is not where I had intended to land us."
"I gathered that. Although it seems this old castle has other ideas for us." Hermione responded with a small smile, looking over her shoulder at him.
They continued to stand in silence, broken only by Severus taking out his wand and casting protective wards and silencing charms around them, before securing the door at the top of the stairs. He moved to stand directly behind her, not touching her, not speaking … just breathing.
Hermione's heart was thumping strong and hard inside her chest. She had no idea what it was about this man, the Headmaster, her old and hated professor, the man whom she believed she had watched die, but in this exact moment he was her whole world. His immense magical power and sheer energy was radiating off him in waves. Was he, could he be ... nervous?
He seemed to be waiting for her to make a move, to say something.
At the top of this tower, back in the castle she loved more than any other place in the world, she was not the Minister; she was just herself, Hermione Granger. And the imposing Headmaster standing silent behind, arousing her every sense, was just a man, just a wizard like any other.
"This evening," she murmured, "you are not the Headmaster. You are not my Potions professor. You are not even that man I saw brought to his knees by the Dark and who fought his way back. Tonight, you could be just … Severus."
He didn't answer, but she heard his breath hitch behind her and become slightly more laboured.
"This evening, I am not the Minister for Magic, I am not your student. I am only Hermione. If you would like that?"
Severus took a tiny step forward, closing the remaining distance between them. His long fingers reached out to touch her long curly hair, gathering it together and draping it over one of her shoulders, baring the side of her neck. He ran his fingers softly down each of her pale, bare arms, and gripped them lightly, bringing his lips very close to her ear.
"I would. I would like that."
He touched his lips to the soft skin behind her ear, just into her hairline. Hermione felt a delicious shudder, like a magical spell, run through her body from scalp to toes, like the most blissful shower of cool water.
"What else would you like, Severus?"
He felt like his knees would buckle at her gentle use of his given name. For the first time in a very long time, he wondered exactly what it was he did want. He kept his lips at her ear.
"From the moment I saw you in the Ministry atrium tonight, looking the way you do, wearing this exquisite dress, I have wanted to do ... this."
He let his tongue flicker over the soft skin beneath her ear, enjoying her small gasp and moving down her slender neck, stopping only to kiss further down, preparing a path for his questing tongue. He, as he had imagined earlier in the evening, let his tongue and lips follow a path down her exposed spine, slowly, exquisitely slowly, igniting a trail of burning beacon flares as he travelled down her back.
When he reached the sensuous curve of her back, her grasped her hips and pulled her closer to him so he could cover the sensitive area with deep, wet kisses. Hermione felt his strong hands on her and allowed him to provide support, as she was gradually turning to jelly under his tender ministrations.
He finished licking all the way to the base of her spine, finishing with a hard kiss. He stood up and turned Hermione around to face him, holding her bare arms delicately in his hands.
She looked up into his face and his piercing eyes were burning black-hot with desire. His lips were wet from his attentions to her back. He was utterly delicious, and she looked upon him with brand new eyes, drinking in all those details, all those arresting features that she had never noticed before, from the deepest rumble of his voice to the elegant curve of his jet-black eyebrows.
"I am not a good man, Hermione. If I were, you would not be here with me now. You are too young, too important, too ... outstanding, for a man like me."
He could not rip his eyes from hers as she regarded him, clearly formulating her answer.
"I am forty years old, Severus. I am not a young woman. I know what I like, and what I don't. I have a fine life. I love my job. I love my friends like a family. Up until this evening I wouldn't have said it was missing anything. Now I am not so sure."
She reached her arms out, and rested her hands on his hips; holding on to them and moving herself slightly closer to him, as he gently stroked the flesh of her upper arms.
"I know who you are. I know what you have done, and who you have been. You have no need for shame, and you are more than enough for me. I didn't know I had a question, but I am relatively certain that you are the answer."
She couldn't wait any longer, and pulled his hips firmly against hers, tilting her head upwards and stepping on tiptoes to reach up and kiss his mouth. It was a sweet, tentative kiss, testing him, enticing him. With a groan of resolution and pleasure, he slid his arms around her and pulled himself deep into the kiss. He used his firm lips to open her mouth, and sought her tongue with his own. She was letting out little gasps as their tongues explored each other, small noises of bliss and pleasure that did nothing to quell the hardness that was currently straining once again at his trousers.
He slid his hands down to her arse, pulling her up to him, and she moved her hands up to his neck and began tugging at little handfuls of his long hair while she swiped her tongue around his mouth. She squeaked as he used her bum cheeks as leverage to lift her up slightly as he continued to kiss her into insensibility.
At length, they reluctantly pulled their lips apart and rested their foreheads together, panting in satisfaction.
"Fucking hell, Granger."
"Indeed."
She lightly mocked his tone of speech and they both smirked.
"I believe that is the first time you have ever awarded me an Outstanding, Professor."
"There is always a first time for everything. However, please be aware that I am an old man. As light as you are, I need to put you down before I drop you."
He crooked up one corner of his mouth before letting her slide slowly to the floor, brushing her deliberately against his burgeoning erection. Hermione kissed him lightly on the nose as she reacquainted her feet with the floor, and took out her wand.
"May I have your coat, please?"
He raised a questioning eyebrow at her request, but nonetheless muttered a wandless spell to unbutton his frock coat. He removed it slowly and handed the immaculately tailored black wool garment to her. Thinking that Snape looked more than sexy in just a white shirt, she tossed the coat into the air and pointed her wand at it, transfiguring it into a huge, jet black, circular sofa with squashy cushions, set dead centre in the middle of the perfectly round Astronomy Tower viewing platform.
"Impressive, Miss Granger," he drawled.
"Not bad for a bit of foolish wand waving eh? Although you will note the absence of any silly incantations. That was for your benefit."
She kissed his nose again, in a gesture of familiarity that he found strange, but pleasant.
"I appreciate your thoughtfulness."
"I thought the old man might need somewhere to rest his weary bones."
She gave him a cheeky smile, moving closer to him to recapture his lips. He caught on speedily, and was soon snogging her back as if his life depended on it.
"Impertinent little chit," he muttered through kisses, enjoying her nibbling lightly on his bottom lip as he spoke. "Insufferable little know-it-all."
"I know. But you appear to like it."
"That I do."
He held her close and kissed down from her lips to her neck. She writhed in his arms at the sheer pleasure of his mouth on the sensitive cords of her throat. He had a day's growth on his face which gave a pleasantly rough sensation as he licked and kissed all over her neck.
Her hands moved lower and she started to pull his white dress shirt loose from the waist of his trousers. She slipped her hands beneath the shirt and ran them all over his lower back and stomach, feeling some abraded skin under her fingertips, no doubt he bore more physical scars from the war than most. He groaned with pleasure, increasing the pace of his rapier tongue slicking over her collarbones.
He pushed her gently onto the circular sofa she had transfigured, laying her down on her back, keeping his lips on her the whole time. He lay by her side, slightly covering her as he slid his hand up, seeking a breast through the thin material of her beautiful dress. The feel of his large hand palming her generous breast kicked them both into a higher gear. Once he had touched, he could not remove his hand from her, and deeply passionate growls were emanating from his chest.
Hermione reached up and started to untie his cravat. Severus jerked away from her as if he had been hit by a stinging hex. He scrambled up the sofa and sat quietly against the cushions, clearly trying to calm his rapid breathing.
She was confused, but very quickly realised what the problem was. He had been comfortable disrobing to a point; he had removed his coat and enjoyed her questing hands under his shirt, but had become cold when she had attempted to remove the cravat from around his neck.
Hermione knew better than most, from first-hand visual experience of the snake's attack, what was concealed beneath the cravats he always wore tied to cover his entire neck and throat. She shuffled up the sofa towards him and placed her hand on his thigh, leaning against his strong arm.
"I have scars too, Severus. None of us walked away unscathed, be it mental or physical."
He turned to look at her, his shoulder-length raven hair hanging forward slightly obscuring his face, and his black eyes empty and fathomless.
"I am repulsive."
She cancelled the glamour on her left forearm, revealing the ugly word that Bellatrix had carved on her arm at Malfoy Manor. A cursed scar that would never fully heal; never be erased. He took her small arm in his hands and ran a long pale finger around the wound.
"I did not realise she had left her mark upon the world in such a wretched way. I am sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for. You did more than anyone else to rid the world of her and those like her. Scars are nothing more than a physical reminder of something you already know."
He sat silently, stroking her arm as if he was considering something. Slowly, with deliberate movements and an increase in the pace of his breathing, he brought his hands up to his neck and began to untie his cravat. Hermione remained silent, knowing this was not a moment for words.
He removed the cravat, tossed it to the side, and turned his body towards her. She could see some of the angry, wicked scars licking up from beneath the collar of his shirt.
"You … do the rest."
She started unbuttoning his shirt from the bottom up. As she revealed his skin, his white flesh appeared littered with a number of old, now silvered, scars. When she reached the top she pushed the fabric aside, not quite off his shoulders, just sitting on his arms as the scars from Nagini's attempted murder were revealed to her in their entirety.
"No other living soul has seen what you are now looking upon." He spoke low, and serious.
Hermione studied his neck intently and with interest. Now was not the time for sorrow, pity or recriminations. It was a truly appalling scar. So evil and extensive that she wondered how he could ever have survived the attack which put it there.
"You survived, Severus. You survived to live your life, whilst Tom Riddle is rotten in his grave. That's what this scar means."
She reached out her small hand and ran a gentle finger ever so lightly across the ragged surface of his throat. He flinched.
"It's sensitive?"
"Very."
"Painful?"
"Not really. Your touch just then was ... was a new feeling."
"May I kiss it, touch it with my lips?"
He looked at her with incredulity. He was rapidly learning to never under-estimate Hermione Granger. He gave her a barely perceptible nod.
Hermione hitched up the soft material of her dress to free her legs a little, and moved across to straddle his lap, easing him slightly into the cushioned back of the sofa. She kissed his lips, holding his shoulders.
Severus gently and tentatively returned her kiss. He was nervous about what she had asked to do, but she was clearly in no hurry and kissed him deeply and languorously. He moved his hands to the tops of her exposed thighs and rubbed her smooth skin under his fingertips, sliding his hands up higher and higher until he realised he was stroking her bare arse. The blasted witch was not wearing knickers!
"Underwear would have been an impossible notion in this dress, Professor," she whispered huskily directly into his ear, rubbing herself gently against his erection, which had sprung sharply to attention after his discovery, enjoying the feel of his large hands grasping her bum cheeks.
Hermione began to kiss down from his mouth towards his neck and felt him tense under her, but she did not recoil, determined to show her acceptance of his scars. She planted feather-light kisses onto the damaged skin, until she felt the tension release slightly. She then let her tongue slip out of her mouth and caress a silky train across the tortured flesh. He let out the most unhuman moan, and she pulled back abruptly.
"Severus! Did I hurt you?"
He seemed to be trying to gather his wits as he spluttered out his answer.
"No, not at all. Not at all. I found the sensation ... a most intensely erotic experience."
Black eyes met with hers and she could finally read the base desire contained deep within.
As if something had snapped inside both of them at the same moment, with an actual growl he tumbled her over on to her back and began to kiss her passionately, catching her lips in his and playing her tongue with his own. He reached up and roughly pulled down the shoulder of her dress, exposing a full breast to the mercy of his large hand. He kissed down her throat towards the breast, noting a nasty scar down the centre of her chest. It mattered not, he needed to taste her, immediately.
He greedily closed his mouth over her nipple, taking in as much of the surrounding areola as he could manage. He alternated between suckling her nipple and teasing the full area with his tongue. She started to writhe beneath him, needing more, more.
Pushing up on his elbow he pulled down the other side of her dress and gave the same attention to her other breast, licking it into as sharp a point as the other.
Both breathing heavily, she pushed his shirt off his shoulders and slipped it down his arms before flipping him slightly on to his back. His chest was pale and scarred, but magnificent – hard, strong and impossibly sexy. The scarring on his neck leeched down his collarbone and joined up with some of his other flesh souvenirs from the war. She ran her hands all over him, wanting to feel and soak up every inch of him. His eyes burned like coals with unconcealed desire, watching her.
She reached the soft patch of black hair at the waist of his trousers, and looked up at him questioningly, only to receive that damnable raised eyebrow in return. Taking this as a green light, she swiftly opened his trousers and reached into his pants to release his cock from what was clearly a very cramped prison. He let out another uncontrolled animal groan, which travelled straight to her core. This wizard's kisses and caresses had made her wet and desperate as she had never been before, with anyone.
Hermione gently stroked her hand over the impressive girth and length of his cock; it was like the softest velvet over the hardest steel. Who would ever have thought that the Bat of the Dungeon was packing such impressive equipment, she grinned to herself.
Severus reluctantly pushed her hand away and toppled her back over, looming above her. The midnight blue material of her dress was rucked up around her hips, and pulled down to the waist. She looked utterly debauched and he was enthralled and enchanted by her.
He moved on top of her, using his legs to nudge her thighs apart and settle himself between them. He couldn't help rocking his hips against her, feeling his hard cock brush against her wet folds.
"I cannot," he panted, not ceasing his gentle rocking which was just touching her clitoris and slowly driving her delightfully insane.
"I cannot do this. I want to, but I must not. I am not good enough for you, Hermione"
She pulled him up so that his face was close to hers and kissed his mouth deeply, feeling his cock swell with another hit of arousal against her nakedness.
"I don't know what this is, Severus, but whatever it is, I want it. I want you."
"I will not be able to control myself."
He punctuated his words with urgent, frantic kisses.
"I have not in many years come this close to losing complete hold of my control."
Another hard kiss. He wanted her so badly. He wanted more than anything else to let go and drive himself deeply inside her.
"I do not deserve you."
Severus kissed her again, hot, hard and sweating, and gritted his teeth in a vain attempt to hold on to the long-suppressed feelings that were clawing their way to the surface like a lake full of Inferi.
He felt the tip of his cock dip inside her soaking entrance. Hermione felt it too, and arched her hips for more of this delicious man. He was holding himself back even though he seemed to be aching for her as much as she was for him.
"Severus ..."
She hissed urgently in his ear, travelling her kisses down his jaw and towards the ruined skin on his throat; flickering her tongue all over the surface of his giant scar, kissing and licking, nipping with the lightest brush of her teeth.
"Fucking hell."
The feeling of her licking all over the hyper-sensitive skin of his scarred neck was like the blue-touch paper of his ardent desire had been lit.
With no possible way to control himself any further, he snapped his hips and thrust his over-aroused cock into her, cramming himself as hard into her as he possibly could. She screamed.
"Merlin! Oh fucking Merlin, do that again!"
She was begging him? This witch who felt like heaven on earth wrapped around his prick?
"Not quite Merlin," he smirked, "but I will gladly oblige you."
He pulled out as far as he could, already missing her wet warmth, before thrusting deep inside her again. And again. And once more.
She was clutching at his back, shredding his skin deliciously with her short nails. She ran her small hands down to his hips and pushed his trousers and shorts down out of the way, taking them further down his legs by using her feet, sliding them down to his ankles.
He grasped handfuls of her dress, her thighs and her hips, anything he could, as he sought to find purchase from which to make his head-spinning thrusts in to her.
Unbidden, the motion of his pistoning hips began to speed up, and he realised they were headed towards a rapid conclusion that neither of them had expected.
"This may ... this may not last long, Hermione," he panted, as he relentlessly thrust into her again and again.
She clasped his face between her hands, slick with the perspiration of their endeavours.
"I don't care. I want you. I want all of you. Now."
She pressed a messy kiss to his mouth, wisps of her hair sticking themselves to her face.
"Don't make me go there by myself, witch."
He heaved out the words through gritted teeth.
"Never."
Hermione wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, encouraging him deeper, faster, harder. He added a rotation of his hips to hit her sweet spot deep inside, stroking and stoking it to explode like a firework display inside her.
She clenched her legs around his waist, her arms around his back, her inner walls around his cock as she reached her orgasm, and he had never before heard his name … his name, screamed in such ecstasy. It sent him hurtling over the edge to join her, hot seed bursting from his aching cock in burst after burst of blissful release deep inside her.
As they slumped back against the plump cushions in satiated exhaustion, breathing heavily, Severus realised that he had just experienced sex like never before. He had truly made love, he had given and he had received not just sexual pleasure, but comfort and acceptance.
There was no way he could let this witch walk out of his life in the morning. Could he?