Next chapter, my lovelies! Oh, and for those of you who asked, The Cure, the ff I mentioned in my last chapter, is actually another story of mine. You can find it on my page : )

HG

I was utterly unprepared for her to come into my study in tears. I blinked at her, shocked, as she flung herself into her chair and sobbed. As always, she was arranged so some part of her body touched mine, even if only slightly. I was so filled with emotions, so quickly, that I didn't know what to do first. I wanted to find whatever had made her cry and blast it to oblivion. I wanted to pull her against my chest and rock her gently. I wanted to howl in triumph that she came to me with her troubles.

I did none of those things, in the end. I clasped her hand (the most I would allow myself) and asked her what was wrong.

"Mikhail," she replied simply. My blood began to boil.

"What did he do to you?" I growled, fully prepared to drain the life from the toad. She shook her head, tears still falling down her cheeks.

"Nothing. Nothing. I'm the one who..." She sobbed, pulling my entire arm to her and clutching it like a lifeline. It was the most awkward position I'd ever been in, but I couldn't bring myself to push her off.

"Sshh, Hermione, just tell me what happened. Everything is alright now."

"No its not. It won't ever be."

"What happened," I prompted again. She took a shuddering breath, clutched my arm to her chest, and started to tell me her story.

"We went to his flat. I said something about being ready to move our relationship forward...and, gods, if only I were a normal fucking person, none of this would be a problem. I wouldn't have..." She buried her face against my arm, forcing me to either go to my knees in front of her or risk loosing my limb. I chose the former. Kneeling in front of her, I brushed her wild hair away from her face with my free hand. She sniffled and looked at me with tear filled eyes. "He was only doing what he thought I wanted. He started kissing me, his tongue was in my mouth and I started to panic but I kept telling myself that this is what I'm supposed to want, and then his hands were everywhere, I kept flinching and when he finally asked why I lied and told him I was cold. He said he would w-warm me up. Then he told me to be a good girl and get on the bed." I inhaled sharply, knowing full well the effect those words would have on her. I wanted to kill the bastard for putting her through that. I could have happily strangled him with my bare hands. "I...I froze. I panicked and I was fighting to breathe and he thought I was turned on, and when I started trying to push him away finally, he must have thought I wanted to...to be rough or something. He pinned my arms down and started kissing me again." My heart twisted so sharply for her that I felt it as an actual pain in my chest. I kept my hand light on her cheek when what I really wanted to do was curl it into a fist and find that idiot so that I could put my fist through his face. "I bit his tongue," she whispered. It was so soft that I almost didn't hear it. A very small smile of pride crossed my face. Good for her. If the fumbling idiot didn't know the difference between panic and arousal, if he didn't know to make damn sure his partners wanted to struggle and weren't simply trying to escape him, a sore tongue was the least of what he deserved. "He pulled back so sharply that I fell off the bed. He was standing over me, angry, and I'm sure he was confused, and all I could think to do was escape. When I tried to go past him he grabbed me. So...so I hexed him."

She let out one final breath and then dissolved into sobs again. I continued to stroke her hair, to let her clutch my arm to her chest. I let her cry it out. These weren't silly feminine tears that I could scoff at. These were the tears of a traumatized woman needing an outlet for the emotions tearing through her. They were her only relief at that moment, and I did not begrudge her them. When her sobs finally began to quiet, I tipped her chin up so we were face to face.

"Miss Granger, are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?" I kept my voice steady and low, betraying nothing. She wiped her tears with her free hand and shook her head.

"I'm fine. A little sore from falling on the floor, and tired, so tired, but I'm fine."

I summoned a calming draught and a pain potion. I had the feeling that more minor aches and pains would show themselves now that her adrenaline was abating. I gave them to her, and she drank them without protest. Then she snuggled deeper against my arm.

"Look at me," I commanded softly. Slowly, her eyes raised to mine once more. "What hex did you hit him with? Will he need medical attention?" She looked horrified at the thought.

"Of course not! I cast the Hindrance Hex at him. He won't be able to accomplish much of anything for a few hours, but he shouldn't be harmed in any way. I just wanted the easiest way for him to be unable to stop me from leaving. I didn't want to hurt him."

"For the sake of your conscience, I'm glad. But Hermione, you would have been well within your rights to put the fear of Gryffindor into him before you left."

"But he didn't..."

"Listen to me. No matter what you said, no matter what you did, you have the right to put a stop to it at any point. You tried to get him to stop and he didn't. Misunderstanding or not, what he did was wrong. The fact that he was too stupid to notice your reluctance does not change that. And if he is too inept to be able to even kiss you without slobbering all over you, then he isn't the man you want to explore your sexuality with. You need to find someone who you can be totally comfortable with. Someone who isn't looking for a quick fumble in the dark. Someone with enough skill and experience to show you just how beautiful it can be."

"Someone like you?" Her whisper turned my blood to ice. My heart stopped, then started slamming in my chest. Is that what I was doing? Describing myself to her? Making myself the only option for her? It wasn't my intention. I craved her, but I knew that I couldn't have her. And I wanted her to be whole again, even knowing that she would have to find someone to help her get there. Even knowing that person could never be me.

"No, Hermione," I finally said. "Not me." She stared at me for a long time, looking at me with those eyes that could see right into my black soul. Our breath mingled, our hearts beat in tandem. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and my eyes followed the minute movement.

"Kiss me," she breathed. My small gasp was inaudible, but I knew she noticed. She pulled me closer by my arm, pleading with her eyes.

"Hermione," I began, ready to tell her all the reasons why I couldn't. As soon as I could remember a single damn one.

"Please. Kiss me. Show me what I should expect. Show me what I deserve." She was so beseeching, beckoning so sweetly, that I felt myself inching forward. My mind kept screaming at me that this was wrong, so wrong, but I kept hearing her last words over and over again. Show me what I deserve. She had no point of reference for that. She had never had anyone treat her with the tenderness, the respect that she deserved. She could go from one dimwitted idiot to another, and finally come to believe that their slobbering, clumsy attempts at foreplay were the only things out there.

And spirits help me, I simply wanted to kiss her. I wanted to be the one to show her all the things she'd been missing out on. Not simply to instruct her, but to cherish her. Adore her the way she was meant to be adored. Not just for her, but for me. So before I could weigh the consequences, my traitorous body had moved forward. I sat up on my knees, cradled the back of her head with my free hand, and stroked her lips ever so softly with the thumb of the hand she was clutching. I stared deeply into her eyes as I moved slowly, so slowly forward. I turned my head slightly to the side, knowing that my nose would crush hers otherwise.

After a heartbeat that seemed to last an hour, I brushed my lips across hers. It was a ghost of a touch, a whisper of contact, butterfly wings brushing her skin. Then I did it again. And a third time. I didn't allow my eyes to close until hers did. I kept watching her carefully, watching for any sign of fear or discomfort. Only when she melted against me and allowed her lids to flutter closed did I let my own eyes close in pleasure. I deepened the kiss only slightly, pressing our lips together for a few moments longer than before, keeping the pressure still light. I directed, and let her add what she wanted to the kiss. After a moment, she pressed harder against me. I slid my fingers into her hair, pulling her back just a little when she rushed. Once she relaxed into a gentle pressure, I dared to open my lips slightly and run my tongue over the curve of her bottom lip. Not some wet, messy lick, but a very soft brush of contact.

Thinking she knew what I wanted, Hermione opened her mouth to me. But instead of thrusting my tongue inside like some inept teenager, I stayed right where I was. I kept our lips pressed together, let my tongue only venture to touch her lips every so lightly. She caught on quickly, following my lead and letting her own tongue hesitantly explore my lips. When our tongues brushed, we both gasped. The contact was electrifying, hot and dizzying. She moaned, clearly feeling a pleasure that mirrored the pleasure coursing through my own body. I slid my tongue further along hers, tasting her and reveling in the touch. She clung to me, our lips moving against each other as our tongues twined and danced. It was beautiful. That is the only word to describe it. A seductive meeting of flesh and pleasure and desire. A dark tangle of emotions and needs and hopes that neither of us wanted to escape.

When she scooted forward on the chair until she was pressed against my erection, I snapped back to reality. My first urge was to say to hell with the real world and keep kissing her. But it was a fleeting impulse. My second urge was to tear myself away from her and storm off. To escape as quickly as possible. But I knew the damage such an exodus could do to her psyche. She needed to know that she'd done nothing wrong. That I wasn't pulling away because of some inadequacy on her part.

Our kiss had been everything it should be. Tender and soft, passionate and strong. She deserved better than to have it ended so abruptly. So I slowly withdrew my tongue from hers, pressed a few more soft kisses to her closed lips, and sat back. She finally opened her eyes and they were shining with some emotion that I couldn't bear to name. I caught my own breath and waited for her to do the same.

When we both returned to earth, I took my seat once more in my chair and watched her. She looked at me in awe and pressed her fingertips to her mouth as if unable to believe it. Then, a smile broke over her face. A triumphant, ecstatic smile.

"That, Miss Granger, is what you should expect. That is what you deserve." My words were roughened with desire and sounded much more evocative than I'd intended them.

"Now I know what I've been missing," she murmured, still pressing her fingers to her lips. "Severus, that was...wonderful. It was everything I could have hoped for. You...I...Would you show me more?" Her happiness almost weakened my resolve. But I held firm.

"No." Her breath caught and she searched my eyes. "That is not my place. I am glad that I was able to show you the beginnings of what you should search for, and I am glad that you enjoyed it. With the right person, you will find that all things sexual will be just as pleasurable. But I am not that person."

"But...why?"

"Miss Granger I have no intention of listing all the reasons again tonight. We have enumerated upon them before. Both of our pasts discounts us as suitable partners for each other, in addition to our current situation."

"You don't want me?" She sounded so confused, so hurt, that I ached. But I covered my pain by standing and turning to the door.

"That is not what I said. But what I do or do not want does not change the situation. Please return to your quarters. We both have hall duty in the morning."

"I'm aware of that, Severus. I'm the one who made the bloody schedules." She had stood and was facing me with an anger fueled by hurt. "You know that all of those things can be gotten past if you truly wanted to. Is this about your self deprecation? About my inexperience?" She was desperately searching for another answer, any answer that didn't involve me simply not wanting her. And I knew that if I told her the truth, she would use it to get what she wanted. I couldn't let her see how I felt.

"Please return to your quarters," I repeated in my most authoritative voice.

"Is that an order?" she hissed. I blanched. She knew that I never gave her orders. How could I, knowing how her father had treated her? I slowly shook my head, wishing things could be different.

"A suggestion, a request- but not an order. Stay here if you wish." Then I turned and walked through the door that was enchanted to lead to my room. I did not give her a chance to ask me to wait, to say anything more at all. I closed the door behind me and leaned heavily against it.