Chapter 11: Do Something for Me
Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life
I need your grace
To remind me
To find my own
-Snow Patrol, "Chasing Cars"
"Ugh!"
Hermione flopped back against the pillows of Severus' bed, her fingers gripping her hair in frustration.
"Hermione," Severus pleaded from his place safely on the other side of the room. "Please don't make this any harder..."
"You're the one making it hard, Severus!" She screamed. "You're the one who's so worked up about this!"
"Hermione, please." He rubbed his eyelids. "It's for the best."
She crawled down the bed, and Severus made an attempt to back away from her, but he could go no further with the wall at his back. Merlin, she's so fucking sexy he thought, admiring her body and her white lace bra and matching panties, look away, Snape, or you're going to come right here in your pants.
She knelt just before him at the foot of the bed, legs and lips parted in a way that made Severus' cock twitch with excitement inside his trousers. Her hair was wild and tangled, the strap of her bra hanging temptingly off one shoulder. She looked up at him through her eyelashes.
"Don't you want me, Severus?" She breathed. Oh gods, do I want you.
"You have no idea," he whispered.
"Then why won't you touch me?" she stuck out her lower lip, pouting prettily. I'm going to bite that lip, and then I'm going to...
"Hermione..." he groaned, unable to stop his hands from reaching for her.
"Please, Severus," she begged, "I want you to make love to me."
He stopped.
He couldn't do that, not yet. It'd only been a few weeks; it was too soon. And she was a virgin, he was fairly certain from the overheard encounter in the hall. And he was nearly forty-one years old, with much too much experience with the wrong people. He was sickened at the thought of taking that from her; her first time should be sweet and tender, with someone her own age.
But look at her. It took all of his being to resist her. They'd been kissing; she took off his shirt. He should have stopped it there, but he'd lost control. Now she looked upset; no, angry. He didn't trust himself, he couldn't with her. He couldn't be sure he'd be what she needed. Not with the way her hips curved in at the waist, as if he was meant to grip her there, and the way her full breasts nearly spilled from the flimsy-looking lace of her bra.
He shuddered. Get control of yourself, Snape! Keep this up and you're going to pin her to the bed and fuck her, and that'll be good for no one.
Severus closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself. But when he opened them, he found Hermione slowly sliding her bra down her arms, exposing herself to him.
Oh bloody, fucking hell.
"Hermione," he groaned again, his voice breaking. "What are you doing to me?"
She smiled coyly and he gripped the dresser, holding himself back.
"Please, Severus," she breathed, stepping off the bed. He couldn't speak, but shook his head furiously, keeping his gaze on the wall behind her, resisting the urge to reach for her breasts.
Perhaps because he was looking away, he did not notice her hand slide between them to cup him over his pants.
He inhaled sharply. "Hermione." She squeezed, and he nearly came. Look what she does to me; I'm like a bloody teenager.
With all the willpower left in him, Severus clasped her wrist and pulled her hand from him. "Hermione, please." His beg came like a sob. "Don't push it any more." She wrenched her arm from his grasp and set it on her hip.
"Fine. We won't do it... today." Severus sighed with relief and longing at her concession. She wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering in his ear. "But will you do something for me?"
"Anything." His mind was relieved, but other parts of him ached in disappointment.
Hermione sank to her knees before him, unfastening his belt and sliding his trousers over his slim hips. Before he knew what was happening, his cock was hilt-deep in her mouth and his knees were about to give way.
"Holy fuck, Hermione." His brain screamed at him to stop her, but his will was spent.
"Mmm." The little sound of pleasure reverberated through him. Severus gripped the dresser even tighter, now to keep from falling to the ground.
She licked up the underside of his shaft and he shuddered at the sensation. She worked him over, sucking, licking, swirling her tongue all around him, until he gave up trying to convince himself to make her stop. His head lay back against the wall, his hips thrusting imperceptibly in time with her movement. When she cupped and gently squeezed his balls, he groaned and bucked.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck..." He moaned in pleasure. "I'm going to come, Hermione, I'm going to..." She took hold of his hips and pulled him to her, taking him all the way in. He came violently, hips thrusting as she swallowed everything he gave.
For a long moment, he couldn't move. She slid her mouth carefully from him, massaging his thighs and hips with her warm hands. His head rested against the wall, his eyes closed and brown furrowed. Finally, he raised his head and met her eyes, which glittered with mischief.
"You're seducing me, Miss Granger," he accused.
She winked up at him. "That was the plan, professor."
XXXXX
Severus woke the morning of his forty-first birthday with Hermione in his bed and a smile on his face. They'd fallen asleep still fully dressed and wrapped up in each other, their faces close, fingers entwined. Their Friday evening had been innocent, spent lounging on the sofa, Severus preparing for classes and Hermione eagerly reading ahead in her textbooks for the new term, which began Monday.
At precisely midnight, Hermione had closed her book, leaned forward across their entwined legs, and kissed him deeply.
"Happy birthday, my love."
He started, surprised she'd even known. Having never really celebrated his birthday-aside from fourth year when Lily bought him a celebratory butterbeer in Hogsmeade-and wary of their age difference, Severus had hoped his forty-first would go unnoticed. Of course, the brightest witch of her age would have found out.
"Thank you." His reply was kind, but curt.
"I've got something for you." He could see the excited glow in her eyes. "A gift."
Severus suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "Hermione, you didn't have to..."
"Well I did!" she exclaimed brightly, pulling a large square package from beside the sofa.
"Hermione..."
"Severus.." she mocked his wary tone. "It's nothing really, just a little something I thought you might like to have." Her hands were clasped eagerly in front of her chest, and she bounced slightly on the cushions. "Open it!" she laughed.
He couldn't bring himself to deny her her joy, but he was still hesitant as he tore through the paper. Wrapped inside was a large leather-bound book, it's corners worn and frayed. The old book creaked when he turned it over to read the title.
Advanced Potion Making.
"Hermione...?" Why is she giving me an old sixth-year potions textbook?
Unless...
"No..." he whispered. It's not possible. The Room, and the fire...
But sure enough, when he opened the front cover, there it was, written in his own neat print:
This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince.
"Hermione," his voice cracked. "How did you... I thought..."
She shook her head. "It was the Room, Severus. It gave it to me."
"I thought it was destroyed?" He didn't look at her, but continued to page through the old book. His tidy handwriting covered nearly every page, crossing-out, adding, amending instructions.
"I did too. And I didn't know what I was doing, I was just worried about what to get for you for your birthday. I suppose I passed it three times... the door opened and there it was, the only thing in the room." She sighed. "Hogwarts thought you should have this back, Severus."
He let out a shaky breath as he fingered the pages. This book held a lot of memories for him, and not one of them good. The information stored between its covers, thought, was priceless. It would have taken him years of work to re-edit every potion inside.
But now, with her, this memory overwhelmed them all. He smiled at her, his breath shaky and his expression strained.
"Do you like it?"
Severus didn't answer, only set the book aside and then pulled her close and kissed her fiercely.
Now curled together in bed, Severus watched her sleep, thinking to himself that he was unsure how he'd ever lived without her. He twined his fingers in hers, marveling at the sereneness of her face, her long lashes, the tiny smattering of freckles across her nose.
"How does it feel to be so old?" She asked, her voice creaking. She smiled a devilish grin at him, her eyes still closed.
When he didn't answer, she opened one eye. "Oh c'mon, Severus. I was only joking." She playfully shoved his shoulder, and he grunted.
Her grin faded when she noticed his sour expression. He cupped her cheek, smoothing his thumb over her face. "I sometimes forget that you're only nineteen," he said seriously. "And that I'm more than twice your age." He scowled. "You should be waking up in the bed of someone much younger, much more fun."
She rolled her eyes theatrically. "Oh please, Mister World-Wise," she scoffed. "We both know there's no better place for me than with you."
Severus couldn't help but smile. "No?"
"Nope." She smiled contented. "And besides, I'm an old soul."
"That you are, my love." He rolled so that she lay above him, and soon felt himself stirring at their closeness.
"And besides," she rolled her eyes again and settling herself so that she straddled his hips. "To say I woke in your bed is only the literal account of events."
"Hermione," he warned.
"For all I know," she continued, "I should be waking in a younger man's bed. Maybe someone who is actually interested in..."
He flipped her suddenly onto her back with a growl, pushing himself hard between her thighs, proving her wrong. "Oh, I'm interested," he said huskily.
"Prove it," she challenged, jutting out her jaw.
With a great sigh, Severus let his head fall to her chest. "I can't."
"If the way you act when your cock's in my mouth is any indication, I'm certain you can."
Severus grew even more aroused at her crassness, rubbing their hips together. She moaned quietly.
"No," he moaned into her chest, "We can't. Not yet."
She exhaled sharply. "Well why not?"
He climbed off the bed, resisting the urge to crawl back between her spread legs. "I won't ruin this, Hermione," he whispered. "I won't lose you."
She rose to stand before him, taking his hand in hers. "What makes you think that sex will ruin this? What makes you think it's so frail?"
It could be that you're a young, beautiful, exciting, effortlessly sexy woman who happens to be so smart it scares me sometimes, and you somehow don't seem to know that I'm no good for you. Also, I'm an aging, self-absorbed, maniacally jealous and insanely possessive murderer who can't control my brain or my dick when you're in the room.
Severus shook his head. "Nothing, Hermione. Let's have some breakfast."
XXXXXXXXXXXX
An hour later, Severus held Hermione around the waist as she struggled to leave.
"Severus!" She giggled. "Please! I'm already late."
"Don't leave me," he murmured into her hair, fully aware of the double meaning.
"Ginny is going to wonder where I am!" She laughed as he tugged on the strap of her bag. "What are you going to do if she comes looking for me?"
"She'll never find you here."
"Severus, come on," she groaned playfully, attempting to extract herself from his hold.
"I need you." She froze at his comment, stiffening in his arms. He released her.
"What? I'm sorry, I didn't..."
"No!" she laughed, but he could hear the strain in her voice. "It's fine."
"I'm sorry, Hermione, I..."
"Ron used to say that, a lot." Severus heated at the mention of her ex. "I hated it," she told him. "It was so much pressure."
"Oh." Severus didn't know what to say. He had not lied, when he said it.
Hermione met his gaze. "But I like hearing you say it," she said finally. She held his face in her hands. "I like that you need me." She kissed him deeply, and Severus sighed, contented.
As he pulled her into him, her bag fell from her shoulder, spilling open on the kitchen floor.
"So eager!" She teased, and they both knelt to gather her belongings. They were nearly done when Severus picked up a thick piece of paper, covered in a swirling print.
"What's this?" Hermione moved to take it from him, but he moved out of her reach.
The Ministry of Magic of Great Britain cordially invites Hermione Granger and guest to attend
An Evening of Heroism
A Gala in honour of the heroes and heroines of the second Great Wizarding War
Saturday, January sixteenth
at eight o'clock in the evening
The Grand Ballroom Ministry of Magic, London
"I was going to talk to you about it," she whispered after a moment. "It's next weekend."
He nodded. "Were you trying to keep this from me?" Heroes and Heroines: surely that means Weasley will be there.
"Severus!" Her expression was indignant. "Of course not!"
"Who's your guest?" He nearly spat the question, and he hated himself for it.
"I thought I'd ask Neville to be my date, since he'll be there anyway." She whispered her response, and he realized she was afraid.
He supposed Longbottom was the least offensive choice-the least likely to pull anything on Hermione-but the look of disgust on his face betrayed him.
"Well I didn't think you'd want to go!" She snapped, snatching the invitation from his hand and shoving it deep into her bag. She stood to leave, but he grabbed her arm.
She let out a little cry as he pulled her roughly to him, their bodies flush with one another. "Want to?" he whispered huskily, "Of course I want to." He snaked a hand around her back, holding her just a little too low on her spine, pressing her against him. Her breathing quickened, and he heard his own grow ragged.
"You do?" she asked, her voice thick with desire. He watched her lips, swollen and red from kissing, and nearly growled.
"Yes," he moaned in her ear, "I want to be there with you, make everyone know that you're mine, spend the entire evening dancing close against you," he jerked her hips against his, nearly panting with want, their position oddly reminiscent of the dance he spoke of. "Of course I want to be there to curse any man who looks at you, to be the one they're all envious of." She shivered at his voice in her ear.
"Severus.." she whimpered.
"But I can't, Hermione."
"I know." Her whisper was barely audible. "But I have to go."
"I know." He dropped her arm, leaving their bodies heated and unsatisfied.
"Will Weasley be there?" She jerked away from him suddenly, scowling.
"You know he will." He growled, reaching for her again. "Severus..." Her voice was pleading, either to drop the subject or to please her body, Severus was no longer sure.
Burying his face in her neck, he whispered ashamedly; "But I will spend the entire evening thinking torcherous thoughts of you in the arms of someone else." He knew he shouldn't beg her not to go, but he ached at the thought of her dancing, laughing, touching anyone else. Especially the ginger oaf.
She stroked his back. "If it upsets you so much, I won't go."
He sighed against her. "No. Don't let my possessiveness keep you from your life. We both know I can't be a part of all of it."
"I wish you could!"
"Me too. But for now, at least, there are some things I shouldn't do. Unfortunately, showing up at a heroes ball at the Ministry is one of them." He chuckled humorlessly under his breath.
"I won't say long, and I won't dance with anyone!"
He took her by the shoulders, kissing her gently on the lips.
"I love you, Hermione."
"I love you, too."
"You'll go to the gala, and you'll have a wonderful time." He smiled, but his eyes did not.
"And you? Will you be upset with me?" She looked so genuinely concerned, his heart swelled.
"No, of course not, my love. I'll just stay here and wallow in jealousy until you return."
They both laughed, and only Severus knew the truth in his words.
