The holidays were over, and the students returned. Hermione waited outside to watch the hordes of children make their way up to the castle. It was rather unsettling. In the past short week she had come to feel as if the castle belonged only to her and Severus, like their private mansion.
Snow still covered the ground, and snowballs were flying everywhere. She spotted Harry, Ron and Ginny. They didn't even seem to notice her. She had almost hoped that they wanted to reconcile, but now she realised how foolish that wish had been. She made to walk away when a hard snowball, that was more ice than snow, hit her hard on the temple.
She swayed and finally dropped face first into the snow, the coldness numbing her face in seconds. It took her a moment to get her bearings and look up at the laughter around her. Harry and Ron were among the many spectators, standing near a laughing Malfoy. How nice to see the arch enemies stand next to each other over her humiliation, she thought sarcastically.
They stopped when they noticed the blood trickling down the side of her face, but none of them stepped forward to help. Neville was the first to come over to help her up. She mumbled a thanks when he suddenly let go of her. She sank back onto her knees without the support and raised disbelieving and hurt eyes up to him, only to see him stare into another direction.
She followed his gaze and saw Severus stalk towards them with a heavy frown on his face. Neville scuttled away. The imposing man helped her to her feet, noticing quickly that the dangerously swaying girl wouldn't be able to walk anywhere. To everyone's shock, the hateful teacher suddenly picked the Gryffindor girl up gently and held her against him. She tried hard not to give her rescuer a relieved and insipid smile. She gratefully sank against his chest and closed her eyes, hoping to stop the spinning and nausea.
"Who did this?" Snape barked at the students still gawking at the scene.
Harry, Ron and Malfoy looked at each other, but neither pointed an accusing finger. They really had no clue as to whose fault it was. Neville stepped forwards bravely and said in a clear voice: "It was Ginny Weasley."
The girl in question blushed hotly, and shot an angry look the boy who had ratted her out. Her anger gave her away, that and the fact that she didn't even try to deny it.
"It's not my fault she walks through here when everyone is throwing snowballs," the youngest Weasley child defended herself.
"Detention, Weasley," Severus growled. "For a month," he added maliciously. "And fifty points from your deplorable house." Outraged mumblings met those words, and he shouted over the defiant students.
"One point to the same dratted house, for the actual loyalty you are supposed to be famous for." He looked at Neville who gave him a small nod, despite the chalky-white face he sported over being addressed by the fearsome man.
"Get inside before I change my mind and pelt the lot of you with the hardest snowballs I can produce." Snape's threat made even the Slytherins take a step backwards.
Ron jogged away, leaving Harry and Ginny behind.
Severus looked down at the now barely conscious Hermione and carried her limp body through the parting sea of students to the infirmary. He felt hot with rage and envisioned the young red-headed Weasley impaled by a gigantic icicle that just happened to fall on her out of nowhere.
He was quivering with fury, and only the burden in his arms stopped him from taking the mean girl to task personally.
"Poppy," he growled in a low voice and waited for the Nurse to appear before he relinquished the precious young woman in his arms. The scans were done quickly, and he was reassured that the damage was minimal, and she would be up and running in less than an hour.
He nodded and sat down in a chair, not caring that he would miss the feast. Poppy was aware, as well as the rest of the staff, about the actual connection between the teacher and the top student. She was one of the few who didn't tease him about it and let him sit beside his partner for as long as he wanted.
"Who was it?" were Hermione's first words when the hazy feeling and the blurry vision faded.
"I do not know," he answered, stroking her thigh. He thought it would only upset her more if she found out about her wilful attacker.
"Why do I have the feeling that that's not true?" she asked with a smile that looked brittle and made him clench his teeth in renewed anger. "You can tell me, Severus. I'm bound to find out anyway." Now she was stroking his hand to comfort him, he noticed incredulously, and forced himself to lose some of the tension that had crept up his spine.
"Weasley," he admitted when her amber met his, portraying a calm he didn't understand.
"Ron?"
"No, the girl," he grumbled.
"Hm, didn't think she hated me that much," she said with a frown, and after a little pause she just shook her head and smiled at him, the incident seemingly forgotten.
"How can you be so damn calm? The malicious girl attacked you with intention and you don't seem to give a damn. You used to be a fighter, avenging wrongs and showing everyone not to cross you. And now… now you just smile all day long," he ranted loudly, not understanding her in the least. He was filled with murderous thoughts, and she didn't care.
He had jumped off his chair during his verbal release of tension and was pacing the length of the infirmary. He was so engrossed that he didn't even notice the questioning look from Poppy or the wordless conversation the two women held.
He came to a stop by Hermione's bed again and just stared at her, uttering one word: "Why?"
"Because I've got you."
That didn't make any sense to him. "I don't understand," he admitted. "Do you want me to take revenge in your stead?" he tried.
She chuckled. "No, even though it would be interesting."
"Don't joke about this!" he barked.
"Stop shouting and come here, please," she scolded gently and patted the bed. Ungracefully, he sat. "With you in my life, I don't care what the children play at. It seems utterly insignificant, and I won't lower myself to their level and pay them back for their prank, no matter how spiteful it was."
He watched her, his frown never lessening, until he bent forward to press a harsh kiss to her lips. It was short and not an overture for more to come. He was just overwhelmed by what he felt for her, mingled with relief over not seeing her more damaged.
"Allow me to lower myself to their level," he said, and she laughed a brilliant tinkling laugh that lightened his spirits a little.
"Just don't hurt her," she said bossily. "And make sure she can't get you into trouble."
"You are talking to a master of subterfuge and stealth, my dear," he said wickedly, making her a little worried for anyone that got in his path.
"Nothing as bad as murder or maiming, I hope," she tested.
"How gaudy," he said with a playful smirk and leaned back to plan a torturous next month for Weasley's detention. Hermione shook her head at the impossible man and closed her eyes for a little rest.
Xxxx
The next month was certainly interesting, and seeing Ginny return from detention each night in tears was a nice feeling. Hermione never rubbed it in, but quietly enjoyed the sobs and various minor injuries the youngest Weasley brought back on a daily basis. The older girl hadn't meant to find pleasure in seeing Ginny suffer, but had lost her temper after being blamed by the youngest Weasley for the detentions she had to serve.
"How silly of me to accidentally get hit by an ice ball. What was I thinking?" Hermione had shot back.
Harry had been his usual unreasonable self and butted into the conversation. "Oh, come on, Hermione. You made it look worse than it was."
"Of course, I was gushing blood to make her look bad. You really are a prat, Harry Potter. You deserve to be saddled with a future harridan like Ginny," she had said and left the fuming couple behind.
McGonagall had not even tried to talk about the unfairness of the detentions that Ginny had reported, but supported her younger colleague in his decision. The Gryffindor Head-of-House had learned not to blindly trust each Gryffindor, like she had done with the Marauders. She developed a dislike for Ginny Weasley and ignored each and every complaint about the treatment from Severus, thinking the girl deserved every blister and every scrape for wilfully harming a fellow student.
No matter how deserved Ginny's detentions were, the constant death glares from the new Golden Trio were exhausting. Hermione longed to see Severus, wishing she could simply forget her worries while she pressed her face against his robes to inhale his scent.
But it wasn't to be. They had decided not to jeopardise her remaining months at Hogwarts and make her susceptible to ridicule. Their relationship was perfectly legal, but not everyone would look at the couple with the open acceptance the staff had displayed. The students could make Hermione's life a living hell, and so the two of them pretended to be strangers.
She threw sad glances at him when she saw him on his rounds or in the library. He never looked at her very long and glared evilly as he turned his back on her.
He wished to nibble on her slender neck or take her roughly behind the haunted suits of armour in the third corridor, but knew he couldn't. He tried to stay away from her to avoid temptation, and grew more and more irritated by her absence. He knew he was lonely and hated that fact; he blamed her for evoking such feelings then promptly hated himself for daring to make her responsible. It was vicious circle of blame, self-blame, fierce lust, frustration and sheer desperation.
When she knocked on the door to his quarters one night, he was about to shout at her for coming there and making it even harder for him to control himself. Just when he was about to rant, she checked the corridor before giving him a shove, making him stumble backwards.
"What the hell, woman?" he barked and watched as she magically sealed the door and put some wards up. He had a hopeful inkling as to what she came there for but didn't dare voice his thoughts.
"I've missed you. I can't believe I agreed to the stupid plan to avoid you for the rest of the school year." Hermione was breathless already, her voice husky and urgent.
Without any further ado, she latched onto him, her lips finding his in a searing kiss. As nice as kissing was, they both needed more. They lost sight of who was removing whose clothes; fabric got ripped and strewn haphazardly across the floor.
"The bed for once?" she asked and nipped his bottom lip in her eagerness to feel him.
He grunted harshly in agreement and pulled her along into his bedroom. She didn't stop to look at the décor, and he didn't give her the tour. He pushed, she bounced. He pounced, she embraced him. He pushed inside, she tightened around him in welcome.
It was by far the most furious fucking they had so far, and it took mere minutes to find completion. To his chagrin, he almost came after only a few strokes and had to reign himself in to not be the most disappointing lover she ever had. When he came, his balls gifted her with an immense amount of cum, which dripped out while they were still joined, making their loins sticky. Neither complained.
"I wish I could do it again," he lamented and rotated his groin lazily, his still semi-hard shaft making it quite pleasurable for her. She purred against him, and he smiled at the sound.
He looked down at her with a lazy smirk before stroking her hair, a simple action that still felt alien to him. He was no stranger to physical pleasure, but only those of a carnal nature. Little signs of affection did not come easily. With her, he dared to follow his instincts and let his hands or lips wander when he felt like it. So far, she had not criticised his attempts at expressing his… fondness for her.
Yes, he was completely and utterly… fond of her.
Good God, man. Broaden your vocabulary!