Disclaimer: I don't own HP or anything related, make money from this, or know how to reach Alan Rickman.
A/N: My beta Ozma914 is under the weather, so this had only been kinda glanced at. A certain steamy portion that makes up the majority of this chapter was requested by M. ;) We'll have a higher main-plot-ratio next time.
/\/\
Snape was gone when she woke up.
Of course, it took Hermione several minutes to figure out what time, date, and place it was. The curtains were opened to let in the light –
Hermione sat up bolt upright and searched the room. It wasn't that far past dawn, there were clothes strewn about the floor, and the sound of a running shower drifted through the cracked door to the master bath.
Breathe, Hermione. You're not trapped in some weird magical version of Groundhog Day.
She flopped back onto her pillows. Snape's pillows. Did she use the loo with him in it? Leave for her own bathroom, but risk looking like she ran off? Wait until he got out? Should she be in his rooms still? She'd never really done this before: what was the protocol for –
"I said I think you're on my trousers, Granger."
Hermione clutched her chest and looked up to see a half-dry Snape scrubbing his wet hair with a towel. All he had on was a pair of dark grey boxer briefs. Oh. Trousers. Yes.
"Oh, your trousers. Yes." She fumbled around and eventually set the clothes on the edge of the bed. After finishing with his drying, he picked them up and began going through the pockets.
"Sorry to disturb you. I did not remove everything from them as usual due to the… rushed nature in which I took them off."
Hermione blushed and watched him quietly.
"Feel free to use the master bath if you wish. I will be unoffended if you choose to use your own."
"Thanks." She didn't move. He slid on a clean pair of trousers and began doing up his belt and forty-thousand buttons. He looked up at her when he got to his belt.
"Out with it." She smiled. It was typical Snape, but lacked the full venomous intent he usually delivered.
"I was wondering… until recent, um, events, I've only ever seen you in maximum quantities of clothing. When was the last time you ran around in your underwear in front of someone? I'm not saying I mind, by the way."
"I…" An odd look passed over his face. "I am not certain. It has been a very long time, if ever."
She frowned, then smiled. She hoped he'd missed it as he looked down to begin buttoning up his shirt. He was comfortable around her. They really did have some kind of weird connection or kinship between them, beyond wanting to abolish an archaic, backward legislation like the Marriage Law.
"Miss Granger!"
"Huh?" He looked… amused.
"Quit wool-gathering and get a move on. We have things to do." He moved to leave (when had he put the boots on?), but turned back just before he reached the door.
"Oh, and, Hermione," he said with a self-satisfied sneer, "this is by no means a complaint, but I feel you should know: You're naked. The sheet slipped some time ago."
She yelled after him, but he was already out the door and probably halfway down the hall. She laughed and got up to face the day.
/\/\
The day sucked.
She could have been locked away in the glorious bliss of Snape's private library, but no, she had to be out shopping.
Ginny, of course, had mocked her relentlessly when she said as much.
She'd been ankle-deep in her notes and references pertaining to her new Conception Reduction Arithmantic Models for Pregnancy Prevention (C.R.A.M.P.P.) when she got the owl from Ginny about the next Ministry Mixer.
The simple "Hey, what are you wearing this Saturday?" message quickly snowballed out of her control. That message, as it turned out, was her second owl of the day. The first had been an intensely coded and safe-spelled missive from Harry:
"Next MMM rigged. Follow invitation, instructions, "guidelines", & "suggestions" exactly. MoM making examples. No charms, glamours, other spells, potions. Go muggle."
Looks like she wouldn't be transfiguring her little black dress robes. It would also appear that Severus couldn't cast a glamour over his scar; while he obviously did not give a skrewt's blasting ass about his looks or what people thought of them, he didn't like to invite any more discussion, conversation, or pity parties on his behalf than absolutely necessary.
And that's how Hermione ended up crammed in a women's dressing room with Ginny, in Muggle London, wearing thigh-highs and a Slytherin green "dress".
"Really, though – it's hot. I know, I know, we're here on serious business to get dresses for the Ministry yadda yadda yadda, but we can have some fun."
Hermione let out a chuckle and pulled the dress over her head. When she looked at it from a more relaxed perspective, it was kind of fun. And, well… trying on a bunch of sexy outfits after they tanked at getting dresses for the occasion did make her feel, well, nice.
"You're right, Gin." She put their discards on the return rack and collected the garments she wanted. "Now we've got to make actual progress, though."
"Ah, but technically, buying fancy underpants counts if it's what we're wearing underneath. It's still part of the outfit for the day!"
"You're not wrong. Technically."
"Technically I'm right. And I'm sure Harry will appreciate what we've done here today."
Hermione opened her mouth, but the redhead cut her off.
"Do me a favor and do not tell me anything about what Professor Snape will or will not appreciate." She paused as they paid for their things, but started again after they left the shop.
"I mean, do tell me. Because I have to know. But… I don't want to want to know, except that I do. Just tell me later after we've all processed this a little more?"
Hermione laughed and nodded. "I'm still processing myself, though I have to admit things are going well."
"Oooh," Ginny said. "And also eww. Let's try this place."
/\/\
Hermione was in the shower for the second time that day (thanks to a surprise prank from Fred and George when she and Gin stopped off at the Burrow) when Snape came looking for her; she called him into the bathroom.
He suddenly stopped in his question about where a particular reference text was. He hovered just outside the shower curtain for a moment, and she could feel a palpable tension in the air.
"Who is Victoria, and what is her 'Secret'?"
She laughed so hard she nearly choked on the water from the showerhead. She stifled it with a hand over her mouth when he jerked the shower curtain partially open.
"Explain."
"You're getting everything – and you – wet! Close it or get in!"
He actually did a double-take. Severus Snape. At her. And his hair did that little swirly billow thing. And he was staring at her with that piercing look.
"You can look in the bag. Ginny talked me into it. It was going to be a surprise, but since you're worried about it and confused and it's not that big of a deal anyway, you can go ahead and see."
He was clearly torn about whether to ignore her last statement or ignore the mystery bag. She gave a not-really-annoyed sigh and clarified.
"I was serious about the shower thing. You're getting soaked and you have been staring at me naked for the past five minutes; it's only fair, and I assume you're covered in potiony things anyway. Go look and come back."
She hadn't expected him to actually do it, but the look on his face was glorious. His mouth came open just a little, then curled into a smirk as he ran a finger over the lacy undergarments. It fell back into a straight line when he pulled out the garter belt and stockings. After he carefully put them back, his eyes snapped up to her.
It was the most intense look she'd ever seen, from him or anyone else. It was primal, animalistic, but deeply… human. He walked back to her in a few short strides, yanked the shower curtain back, and stepped in clothes and all.
She was vaguely aware of the sound of the curtain moving back and the water hitting his shirt and boots. The rest of her attention was focused on his body pushing her up against the shower wall, his hands cupping her face, and his lips searing into hers. She had never, ever, been kissed like that. It was everything she ever wrote off in those cliché romance movies and then some. She didn't know if it lasted forever, or if her perception of time slowed down.
At some point he finally broke the kiss, but didn't pull back. He gazed at her in a search for something, all the while running the pad of his thumb over her puffy lower lip. She smiled and leaned into his touch.
"I don't know what question you want to ask, but the answer is "because". Apparently any charms of a deceptive nature will be banned from the next Mixer, so Ginny and I went to get outfits for the thing that didn't require transfiguration. I was getting new underwear anyway and remembered your comment, and decided to grab them. No biggie."
His eyes darted between hers. He opened his mouth a few times before he finally settled on what to say.
"This is an unprecedented event for me. Do not undermine your own… thoughtfulness."
She gave him a reassuring, if soggy, squeeze. "You're pretty thoughtful yourself."
"Oh really?" He sneered. "I have never been described with the adjective thoughtful."
"As we speak, you're ruining your dragonhide boots just to continue talking to me. It's a day of firsts."
"Indeed."
"Have you ever had sex in a shower?"
"… No."
She'd expected some kind of sultry-toned response, but it appeared she'd caught him off guard. Or he was already off guard. Whatever.
"You want to?"
He repositioned himself slightly and dropped his hands. "Is this something you have… done… before?"
She giggled. Did I really just giggle? "No, but I've always wanted to."
She hadn't realized he'd tensed up until his shoulders relaxed. He held his right hand off to the side, palm up and fingers curled. His eyes bored into hers with a look of deep concentration and not a small amount of lust.
"I would be honored to oblige your-" his clothes vanished "-fantasy."
"Fuck, that was… I don't even-"
He cut her off with a deep kiss. Her brain was still processing the explosion of attractiveness she felt toward him – the wandless magic, the purring tone saying
"fantasy", the nakedness…
She was still in haze when he pulled back. His left hand pressed on her shoulder.
"Stay."
The hand slid with him as he dropped down on one knee. His right moved up her calf to her thigh, then lifted up her leg.
Oh. Oh my.
The leg went over his shoulder; his arm curled around it. His left hand pushed against her hip lightly, to keep it against the wall (she assumed). He did not break eye contact as his lips traveled at an agonizing slowness up her thigh.
He paused centimeters away from his end goal to stare at her. His face lit up with a satisfied smirk; his tongue slowly came out of his mouth and extended toward her.
She whimpered and flexed her hips. Please, please, please… "Please."
Shit, that last one was out loud!
He delved between her legs. She leaned her head back, eyes closed, and lost herself in the nearly overwhelming sensations: the contrast of the cool shower wall against the hot steam and his warm skin and mouth, the pressure of his hands supporting her as she twitched with pleasure every time he hit "Oh God that spot right there," the sound of the water rushing over them that didn't quite drown out the smacking sound of his suckling, the feel of his hair wrapped around her fingers (when had that happened?).
Her writhing increased as she got closer to her peak, and she realized the reason for his bent knee when she began to slouch onto it. She was close. So close. "So… close…"
He shifted, but she didn't know or care what he was doing so long as he didn't stop. His tongue thrust inside her and his nose…
I will never look at his face the same way again.
…his nose rubbed against her clit and she ground her hips and he pushed back against her to keep her from toppling them over and her hand tightened in his hair…
And he moaned against her, the sound sending a wave of vibrations that –
"Fuck! Sseveruss… Severus… I'm going to…"
– pushed her right over the edge, and hard.
He moaned again and pulled her close; she was aware of him doing more wonderful things between her legs but couldn't tell exactly what through her orgasmic haze. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he stood up, carefully lifting her legs and positioning them as he pressed her back against the wall.
"Mmm, I like where this is going."
He groaned in response and rammed into her hard, aided by the slipperiness of their wet wall and bodies. She had no idea what she was saying out loud, other than that it was an incoherent, babbling stream of nonsense. She moaned harder when his teeth dug into her shoulder, her neck, her lips; his voice, rough and strained, rumbled against her ear.
"Gods… so…" He trailed off into a moan. He punctuated his next syllables with harder, more reckless thrusts: "Her… mi… on… e…"
He spasmed and let out a deep, guttural moan as he slammed into her one final time and spilled inside her.
They stayed as they were for several minutes afterward, panting and riding out the last residual pleasure. When his legs began to shake, Severus gently slid out. He scooped her up with one arm around her shoulders and the other beneath her knees, rinsed them off in the spray of the shower, and then stepped out.
"Wulfric." The house elf popped into the room and immediately covered his eyes. "Clean this up, please. Consider this a reward for your… help… leading up to this point."
The elf's other hand went up in an attempt to stifle his laugh. Severus smirked.
"Would you like me to-"
"No! Just procure some towels."
The elf nodded and turned to the shower. Snape plodded through to Hermione's bedroom, leaving a trail of wet footprints from the bathroom to her towel-covered bed. He set her down and wrapped her now standing form in a towel.
"You didn't have to… charms…"
She slumped against him. With some difficulty, he wrapped another towel around his waist and began to dry her face and arms.
"I know." The corner of his mouth twitched upward ever so slightly when her arm reached briefly up to his chest, then fell back down. He finished drying them off and stood there for a moment, transfixed and more than a little tired. He lifted his hand and extended his index finger to gently poke her shoulder. She collapsed back onto the bed and he crawled in behind her.
"Did you just do something sweet and then playfully push me into bed?"
He summoned a pillow and throw from the top of the bed to make their sideways position more comfortable.
"No. I simply did not want to die in my sleep from being suffocated by a frizzy Gryffindor mane."
"Sure. Mmmhmm."
"Tell anyone, and I will pass out pensieves of you singing in the shower. Oh yes, Miss Granger: I heard."
She laughed lightly and leaned back against him. His arm snaked around her waist.
"I won't tell anyone about our secret snuggles, either."
"Goodnight, Miss Granger."
"It's not night. Good… nap?"
"Goodnight, Miss Granger."
"That was soo good. I just wanted to tell you before, you know, I come to my actual senses and get all flustered talking about it."
"Goodnight, Miss Granger."
"Goodnight… Snuggles."
"Witch, I will –"
"I know, I know: sixty points from Gryffindor and detention in the morning." She wiggled more snugly against him. "At least, that's what I was hoping for."
"Goodnight, Miss Granger."
"Goodnight."