Little bit more M. Just a tad *grin*
Hermione woke to a mouth on her breast. For a moment, she lost herself to the sensation of a tongue curling around her nipple, to the gentle teasing of sharp teeth. She squirmed and her fingers slipped through silk-soft hair. She blinked and focused. Severus. And his very talented mouth.
He smirked up at her, his dark eyes shining. "You fell asleep on me last night, Madam Snape."
Sunlight glinted through the leaded glass to spill across the floor of his bedroom, throwing the unfamiliar room into relief. Morning. It was morning already. "What time is it?"
"Time for you to get up." With a final sweet little kiss, he rolled away from her and she flopped back into the warmth of his bed. It smelt of him and of her and she drew the scent deep into her lungs, the little frissons from his touch still at play in her flesh. She'd been hoping for more of the same. Or something else equally pleasurable.
He grinned at her. "Didn't you enjoy your wake up call?"
Hermione pushed her hair from her eyes and growled at him. "Are you always this perky?"
He lifted an eyebrow and his gaze slid over her, taking in her exposed breasts and the sheet lying loose around her hips. "I have a beautiful, naked witch in my bed. She'll be in my bed again tonight. And the next. I think I have every right to be perky."
Hermione pulled the sheet up, covering herself and he glared, before he sat up. Morning light gleamed against the alabaster skin of his back and she sucked in a quick breath. His scars. So many, interlacing, ancient and others pink and new. A tentative hand reached out to him and he stiffened under her light touch. Her fingers curled away. "I'm sorry."
"You see, I could never judge you for yours." A smile twitched at his mouth, his face in shadow. Had he forgotten too, just for a moment?
She would do for him what he had done for her. She wanted him to forget again, never to have to worry about his how he looked to her. "When you let me, I will trace and kiss and lick every single one."
He closed his eyes, his face tight and she was sorry for spoiling his mood. She doubted there had been many such happy mornings. "Severus…?"
She gasped as he pulled her into his arms, her legs tangled in the crumpled sheets, and she was forced to straddle him. He buried his face in the wildness of her hair. She didn't know what to do as he clung to her. So she rubbed her hands over his back, her fingers skimming his numerous scars and let him recover.
With a sigh, he pressed a kiss to her bared shoulder. "You are too good."
"No, I simply crave your body."
He laughed against her skin. "In time."
She pulled back, searching his face. "And you're all right with that? Not," she waved her hand and her cheeks burned, "you know, going further."
He smirked at her, his mood lightening again. "Would I like to fuck you? Gods yes. Will I? No. I'm not a boy, unable to control myself."
"No, you're the incarnation of a sex god."
A flush banded his cheeks, and she had the privilege to witness Severus Snape embarrassed. "I am still me. And you deserve my patience."
She grinned at him and pecked a kiss. "You're so sweet."
"Madam, I am not sweet."
"I beg to differ." She kissed him again. "I need to get ready."
Hermione untangled herself and tottered to her feet. She pressed a hand to his jaw. Smiling at him, her throat tightened. He deserved so much. And yes, her overwhelming need for fairness had kicked in. Severus was not a house elf, but she would do everything in her power to improve his quality of life. And she'd start with letting him know how much she appreciated him.
"Our marriage took away your freedom just when you found it for the first time. You could have been an unholy terror…but you have been unfailingly kind and honourable." She smirked at him. "You're also unbelievably good at this sex business."
He laughed, his face coming alive and the urge to kiss him and tumble back into bed stirred through her. Everything about him was so unexpected. Was this the man he should have been before two lunatics sank their claws into him?
"Away with you, witch." He swatted her backside and she yelped. "When you're ready, meet me in the sitting room. I have your timetable."
Hermione grabbed her clothes –found her wand— and darted away, naked, from his room, across the sitting room and into her own suite. She was soon in the shower, trying not to dwell on Severus and the ease with which he'd brought her to a blazing orgasm…
Cursing her wayward thoughts, she shampooed her tangled hair, the pain of unknotting it distracting her. Yes, she would discover her sex drive just as every minute had to be devoted to passing her NEWTs.
Her hair dried with a spell and fought into a manageable state –that is tied back at the neck— Hermione dug out her school clothes. Dressed, she cast a tempus charm. It was just before eight. Her stomach rumbled, but she ignored it. A glance through her beaded bag proved she was packed for every subject and she looked over herself in her long mirror. Her nose wrinkled. She was back to being a school girl.
"You look very studious, dear."
Hermione held down a groan. The last thing she needed was a magic mirror with its often unwanted opinions. "Thank you." Severus had said she was polite. It was the muggle-born in her. She couldn't ignore people, things, strange pseudo-sentient magic...
The mirror tutted at her. "Though you're married. And at school, too. Never have I-"
"I'm 19." Hermione gritted her teeth. It was going, she was getting rid of it. She hardly needed the judgement of an inanimate object, when she'd have the derision of the wholeschool.
She turned away, ignoring the comment about the shocking shortness of her skirt –it was the same as it had always been, a perfectly acceptable knee-length— and left her rooms.
Severus stood before his fireplace, staring thoughtfully into the low flames. The rising ire at the mirror was forgotten. She devoured his slim silhouette, tall and lean and dressed impeccably, he was aesthetically beautiful. My husband. And the thought gave a little swoop to her belly.
He glanced up as she crossed into his sitting room. His eyes narrowed and that guarded look was back. He didn't like her uniform either. "Today will be…trying. No doubt the Prophet has a list of those recently married. We will be front page."
Hermione winced. "Very likely." She straightened. "I'd prefer to sit with my friends, until my NEWTs are done. I think my sitting with you at the High Table would expose us more." She smirked at him. "Of course, once I'm an apprentice, I'll quite happily sit with you and fondle you under the table."
Severus snorted. "I would not be adverse to being fondled."
Hermione burst out laughing. She was truly growing to like this Severus. "And also you have no worries. I won't make these suggestions in public, or attempt to be improper with your person through the day."
"I am grateful." Severus handed across her timetable and she frowned at it. He shooed her towards her rooms. "I'll see you tonight. We have things to discuss. There's a Ministry event soon."
She rose on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. "Will you dance with me?"
"I do not dance."
She smirked at him. "You didn't use to dance."
"Go to your breakfast, insufferable witch." But there was a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. Hermione thought, for her first morning after –of sorts— it was rather a good one.
She plopped down onto a bench between Harry and Neville and began to fill her plate. She was famished. She risked a glance up to the High Table in time to see Severus slip quietly into the Headmaster's chair. He was met with silence by the other Professors and her heart turned over for him. She supposed she should be grateful they weren't trying to hex him.
"What have you got first thing, Hermione?" Neville asked, bringing her attention back to him.
She gave him a vague smile before her brain fired. "Potions. Then Defence. After lunch, Arithmancy. Ending with Muggle Studies. All doubles."
He winced in sympathy. "Is there a NEWT you're not taking?"
She stuck her tongue out at him, still buoyant. "Divination, if you must know." She waggled her fingers. "I have very little connection to my Inner Eye."
"What has you in such a good mood?" Ginny leaned around Harry. Her eyebrow lifted and she was smirking.
"I slept well."
"Of course you did…"
"Ginny." She looked around the table, the sudden realisation hitting her that those opposite were avoiding her gaze. She held down the need to curse. She had the culprit. Ron. With his lies. In the Gryffindor Tower.
Owls swooped in with the post, letters, scrolls and care packages raining down. Her Daily Prophet landed in the toast. She risked another glance up at Severus, before she unrolled the paper. He was rescuing his own copy from a selection of jams. She scanned the front page and groaned. She tried to cling to her good mood, but it vanished as the headline sank in.
Death Eater Headmaster and his School Girl Bride.
Mutterings grew from the other tables now, the Ravenclaws glaring, as more news passed to them from the Gryffindor table. Ron again. With his lies about how long her supposed relationship with Severus had been going on. No doubt, her OWL results were down to extra curricular favours now.
"It says you're 16." Harry snorted. "Everything is just lies." He threw the paper back onto the table.
"Muggle age of consent," Hermione muttered, her thumb tracing over the delicate pattern on her wedding ring. "A reminder of my blood status. Whilst still making Severus out to be a monster in the wizarding world."
Harry's hand covered hers, stopping her nervous gesture and gave her fingers a squeeze. "Remember, five Death Eaters. To a standstill. All I'm saying."
She twitched him a smile. He hadn't said anything about using the Headmaster's given name and she was relieved. She couldn't have borne his poking fun in that minute. "Let's get to Potions."
Hermione stood, and Harry, Neville and Ginny rose too. She caught Luna's bright smile as she moved around the tables to join them. Her guard. Her heart squeezed at their support.
Ron was laughing loudly, caught in an admiring ring of witches. His cold, blue eyes fixed on her and he seemed to forget his plan never to speak to her again. "Enjoying your time scraping the grease off?"
She smirked at him. "Look at my husband." Her voice was low and sure and Ron's face paled, his gaze suddenly uncertain. More than one witch was staring at Severus now, and the Headmaster was aware of it. He looked up, fierce, forbidding and utterly beautiful. Hermione's mouth twitched as a Fifth Year gasped. She'd seen it too. The change in him. The witches looked to her now and rather than disgust, something like envy moved across their faces. Her smile was quite satisfied. "And he's mine."
Ron blinked, looking around at the suddenly silent girls surrounding him. "What?"
Watching the truly execrable Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves and I had a happy little Death Eater moment to myself at the close up of the Sheriff taking off his mask… :D
Let me know what you think :)
