She was very familiar with the wards protecting his personal chambers, but she ignored her brash instinct and chose to knock and be invited in, rather than storm through. What Harry had relayed to her about their conversation was unsettling, and the thought of being on the outs with Severus made her feel panicked - which was the last thing she needed.
However, her pleasant intentions flew out of the window when he didn't answer.
She knew where his head was. He probably assumed that she hadn't been paying attention; that it had all been about her. And while she had done a lot more opening up to him than he to her, she knew the obstinate man. She knew what insecurities plagued him, had always plagued him. She could not and would not sit by while he pushed her away.
This snarky, kind, inflexible, gentle, ornery and protective man had become her best friend, not to mention her most incredible lover, and she was not going to let him slip through her fingers.
"Severus, if you don't open this door right now I'm going to blow it down!" she yelled in warning.
No answer.
Glaring, she pulled out her wand and lowered his wards, then swung the door open so roughly that it clanged against the wall.
Snape came dashing around the corner with an alarmed look on his face and his wand raised. When he saw her, he frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Granger," he growled, something he only called her when he was truly vexed with her. "I am changing my wards."
She stormed toward him. "I knocked. You're not going to ignore me, Severus."
"Clearly," he retorted. He sidestepped her and waved his hand to close and lock the door to his chambers. "As it happens, I was visiting the toilet."
Hermione felt a blush creeping up, but she held her head high. "Yes, well, you shouldn't have left me to begin with." She sounded silly even to her own ears.
Snape rubbed his face wearily and sat down in his favorite wingback chair next to the fireplace. "You exhaust me, woman." He steepled his fingers and looked up at her. "I'm not your servant. Mr. Potter was there, he could take care of you."
Hermione leaned against the back of the chair opposite his, which she had been claiming as hers of late. "Severus, honestly, what is going on in that head of yours?" She brushed her hair behind her ears and looked around sadly. "After everything… you are just going to what, abandon me?" She tried to hide the hurt she felt, but her tone was entirely too accusatory and she cursed inwardly.
He closed his eyes and gripped the arms of the chair. "Hermione," he said, searching for the right words. The last thing he wanted was to drive her back to the darkness so eager to swallow her up; but he also very much did not want to leave himself vulnerable. To be hurt again... it was unthinkable. "I have not regretted a single moment of caring for you, of helping you to overcome the mental and physical repercussions of what happened." He gazed up at her, trying to steel his heart as he took in her crushed appearance. "But today, I suddenly became an afterthought when Mr. Potter finally deigned to come to you." He tilted his head as he watched defensive anger flitter over her features. "Do you think it was pleasant for me to watch you run to him, to see you walk away with someone who didn't give a fig about you until it was convenient for him? I am the one who has given everything to you." He stopped. He was going too far, letting her have too much. He relaxed his brow and retreated to impassiveness. "You will be fine, without me."
She gaped at him. Her heart was twisting painfully in her chest. That he had been feeling all of this… she had thought she knew what he was feeling and thinking. She was wrong. She had been so very wrong. She knew, especially after her failed relationship with Ron, that one could only give so much before one crumpled under the weight of it all, never receiving anything in return.
He had been there for her at her darkest. She had given him her friendship, her body, but had she really given her all, as he had? He needed just as much healing as she, and in that moment she was convinced that despite her brokenness, she could and would give that healing to him the way he was giving it to her.
"Severus, I'm sorry." She went to him, kneeling before him. She placed her hands on his knees and bent her head to try to catch his gaze. "I've taken you for granted. You must know that I never meant to… not that not meaning to excuses it." She leaned back on her heels, feeling defeated that he wouldn't look at her. "I am sorry. It's not that I've not thought of your happiness… It's just that I need you so badly, Severus." She rose, the pressure on her knees now as she leaned against his legs and pressed a hand to his face. "I need you."
His glittering obsidian eyes lifted to meet her gaze, and she gasped at the hungry look on his face.
"Say it again," he commanded.
Heat spread from her core to her extremities. Gods, but he did something wicked to her. "I need you," she told him again, her hands inching up his thighs. "I need you."
"Again," he demanded, his hand reaching out to wrap around the nape of her neck.
"I need you," she told him breathlessly, quaking from his unendingly wicked gaze.
"Come here," he bid her, pulling her up. She climbed onto his lap, straddling him, as he slid her robes off her shoulders. "Say it again." His hands slid up under her blouse, spanning her waist and massaging.
"I need you, Severus." The words came out on a moan, her head falling back as his thumbs brushed over her hardened nipples. She grinded her hips against the firm length of him, pressed tightly to her thigh. He whipped her blouse over her head and it fell to the floor forgotten.
He cupped her flushed cheeks and instructed, "Look at me." When she obeyed, he held her chin in between his thumb and forefinger, while his free hand slid down the valley of her breasts, to the top of her skirt, and dipped into her knickers. His fingers stroked the swell of her mound, and he bit his lip as he watched her gasp in response. "Keep your eyes on me, Hermione," he told her. "And… say," he said, retrieving his wand from his robes, "it," he flicked it, and the remainder of her clothes disappeared, "again."
The chilly air hit her naked body, mingling with the heat spreading through her. Her hands clutched at his shoulders as she wiggled helplessly in his lap. A tiny mewl of need escaped her. "I need you."
Another wave of his wand and he was bare beneath her, his warm skin moulding deliciously to hers. "The thing is, my lovely witch…" He leaned forward, holding her hips. "I need you, too." His head dipped, and he pressed a kiss to the jaggedly round scar marring her collarbone.
"Severus," she whispered. She twined her fingers through his hair, watching him in awe. "I'm yours," she assured him.
He continued pressing kisses along her shoulder, to the hollow of her throat, then up her neck to her jaw. She was ready and eager as his lips enveloped hers, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as their tongues battled ardently.
She would never, ever grow tired of kissing him. The man used his tongue in ways she had thought only existed in dreams. Straddling him, kissing him deeply as her body was glued to his… she felt happier than she had in a long while.
She reached between them and took hold of his swollen cock, causing him to groan into her mouth. She broke their kiss and presented him with a devilish grin, stroking him from top to bottom. She didn't take her eyes from his, ever-aware of his previous command, as she trailed kisses down his chin to his chest, working her way down the way he had worked his way up moments ago. She could feel him holding his breath as she inched every closer to his thick arousal. Her hair feathered over his thighs as she wrapped her hand around him and lowered her mouth to the head of his velvety length, her gaze still holding his.
He groaned, the wetness of her mouth sending a jolt of electricity through him. Her wicked tongue swirled around the head of his cock, and the fire behind her eyes as she did so had a ravenous growl rumbling up from deep in his chest.
"Much more of that," he informed her sharply, "and this will be over before it's started."
She sucked him in deeply at the comment, causing a shout to escape him and his hips to come up off the chair.
Eyes blazing with uncontrolled desire, he grabbed her upper arms and guided her backward to the rug beside the coffee table. The fire crackled in front of them, mixing with the heat already steaming from their bodies, resulting in a glistening sheen of sweat on their naked limbs. He knelt between her legs, his hands caressing up over her calves and thighs. He brushed his fingers over the elaborate burn scars at her hip, and dipped his head to kiss them, as was his custom when she was naked in front of him. He knew what it was like to feel insecure, and he took great care to make her feel as if the blemishes meant nothing.
She dug her nails into his shoulders and he rose over her, staring down at her as his prick teased her entrance.
"I need you," she urged him, her hands wild over him, curling in his hair, running down his chest, clutching his arse. "Please, Severus," she begged, the ache in her voice breaking him. "Please, please."
He claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss as his hips surged forward and he sheathed himself fully in her slick heat, eagerly swallowing her moan. He drew back until just the head of his cock was inside of her, and then thrust back in as deep as he could go.
They had had sex. They had fucked. They had even made gentle love. But this… this was a claiming of souls. He marveled at the harmony of their movements, at the perfect fit of their bodies. He knew, as their eyes stayed locked and she gazed up at him in amazement, that she could feel the difference in their lovemaking.
He pulled back completely, smirking at her anguished cry of protest. He turned her to her side, and lifted her forward leg so that he ankle rested on his shoulder to better access her center. He guided himself back to her entrance and thrust inside her once more, causing her to cry out again in pleasure. He stroked her arse and then smacked it, pistoning her determinedly as she moaned and pressed her face into the rug. He grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her head to turn. "Eyes on me," he commanded, and she growled at him but locked eyes with him once more. She scratched her nails down his chest, breath coming out in short gasps.
Knowingly, he reached between her legs and slipped his middle finger into her folds, finding her throbbing clit and rubbing insistently.
"Oh!" she cried, and her nails sunk into his thigh. "Oh, I, I…"
A delighted shriek left her throat and her feminine muscles clenched around him strongly. He stroked once, twice, and released in tandem with her, a low groan escaping him. They shook together as their mutual climax echoed exquisitely throughout their bodies.
He fell to the floor beside her, and reached for her. She rolled toward him immediately, fitting herself to his side, her head on his chest. They breathed, hearts pounding, silent as each marveled at the intensity of it all.
"Merlin's pants," Hermione finally uttered breathily. She rewarded him with a kiss to his chest when he chuckled at her exclamation. She would need a clearer head to analyze what had just taken place between them, because she was pretty sure that he was falling for her, just as she had for him.
She felt mended in that moment, as if nothing could ever harm her again; as if she were a rehabilitated bird with renewed wings.
But a terrible thought loomed; a dark, inescapable voice that whispered, But when will the other shoe drop?
