Chapter 36
Surprisingly, the owl with the confirmation of his patent for Advanced Wolfsbane arrived with the breakfast post on the first teaching day of term, registering the fact that his potion was now held in Ministry Patents Office credited only to him, Professor Severus Tobias Snape. His first step as an official potions researcher had begun, and he could not help but feel a frisson of excitement, for so long an unfamiliar emotion, but becoming more usual since Hermione had entered his life. It had been on his tiny girlfriend's insistence that he had applied to patent the Wolfsbane variant, and he was now inordinately glad that he had paid heed.
At the end of his final class of the day, he stalked through the endless hallways to the head's office, requesting entrance from the gargoyle to see McGonagall, slightly disbelieving that he was actually about to serve notice on the job he had held for twenty-odd years.
She welcomed him into her office, sitting him down with a cup a tea and pushing her tartan tin of Ginger Newts across the desk towards him. He thought of the previous year, and his year of tenure in this very office, Voldemort's puppet in his reign of terror. No, he had no desire to stay at Hogwarts any longer, quite aside from his potential new business; the very walls of this castle were permeated with too many bad memories for him. He would be glad to see the last of it.
Not wishing to waste time on preamble, he pulled out the parchment on which he had tendered his resignation in writing, and passed it wordlessly and without expression to Minerva, who received it with an air of curiosity.
He watched while she read it, taking a perverse kind of pleasure in watching her eyes open wider, and her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline as she read.
When she had reached the bottom of the page, she set the parchment down on the desk between them, and clasped her wrinkled hands on top of it. She looked at him sharply over the frames of her small spectacles.
"I suppose, Severus, that there is no point to me attempting to talk you out of this decision?"
"Thankfully, none whatsoever, Minerva."
"I trust you have alternative plans for future employment?"
"I do. I shall be setting up on my own in the field of potions research, as well as taking a student through an apprenticeship and offering a brewing service for both speciality and basic potions."
He enjoyed the look that spread across her face that could only be described, rather impolitely, as gobsmacked, and seemingly unable to formulate an articulate answer, so he continued.
"I shall, as per my letter, serve a term's notice as required, leaving at the end of the school year in the summer. However I will be leaving the castle at weekends and possibly some evenings when I do not have other duties pertaining to my role as head of house, night patrol or detentions. Be assured I take my responsibilities here extremely seriously."
"I do not doubt for a second your sense of duty, Severus. If anyone can keep a full teaching job on the go whilst setting up a new business it is yourself. I will not insult you by asking if you have given this decision serious thought and consideration. What I will say, however, is that as inconvenient as it is for me to have to now start searching for a new Potions professor, it gladdens my heart to see you embracing life in this manner."
"Thank you, Minerva."
"I also suggest that you visit Poppy in the infirmary regarding the stocking of the school potions. We have been spoilt the last twenty years where you have been brewing the required stock, however Slughorn before you did not do so, and I doubt that a new professor coming in will be able to complete a full teaching schedule as well as brew the infirmary potions, at least not initially."
"Are you offering me the Hogwarts brewing contract?"
"Well of course I am, stupid boy. Who else would I trust to brew such immaculate potions, deliver them on time and who I would like to see regularly for a cup of tea and a biscuit when he personally delivers them?"
She lifted her rose-patterned tea cup delicately to her lips and gave him a smirk of such naughtiness that he could not help but return it.
"My first customer, then."
He lifted his own cup and toasted her slightly with it.
"Hogwarts is loyal to its own, Severus."
"I appreciate your faith in me."
"I have had nothing but faith in you since you stepped into the Great Hall at eleven. You have proved yourself time and time again. Smiles like the one you have on your face right now could be a tad more frequent, but och lad, we can't have everything. I shall speak with Poppy to advise that she continue to order from you in the same way she does now, only this time we'll be receiving an invoice. At least our spending on potions ingredients will go down equivalently now we won't be stocking the infirmary in-house."
Finishing his tea and leaving the office after some small talk, Severus could scarcely believe the positive outcome of his resignation. Minerva had shown faith in him, and pressed the lucrative Hogwarts infirmary contract straight into his hands. Not wanting to waste any time before telling Hermione, he headed straight back to his chambers to send her an owl. He didn't run of course, but it was a fairly close approximation.
- xxx –
Later than evening he headed up several moving flights of stairs to the infirmary, for once looking forward to seeing the Medi-Witch rather than dreading it, since he was here to discuss his potential business, and not submit to one of Madam Pomfrey's infernal check-up appointments.
As he walked down the corridor that housed the DADA classroom, office and stores, he saw Faith Burbage approaching from the opposite direction, clutching her teaching robes tightly around her as if unwilling to reveal what lay underneath.
"Severus," she smiled as they drew level with each other.
"Professor Burbage."
He inclined his head in a curt nod and did not break his stride down the flagstone floors of the dark corridor. However, before he turned left at the end he could not resist looking back to see what Faith was up to. He saw her enter the DADA classroom without knocking, and heard the door lock heavily behind her.
Avery Goldsmith was obviously her next conquest. He'd be willing to bet she had nothing or very little on under her teaching robes too, the way she was clutching at them.
Slut, he thought, the new professor was clearly shagging her way around the male teaching staff. She was not half the pleasant, modest witch her sister had been. Not for the first time, he felt a familiar stab of guilt for his treatment of Charity Burbage whilst they had been colleagues, and for the manner of her untimely death of which he was the sole living witness not currently resident in Azkaban.
He entered the doors of the hospital wing in his usual arrogantly loud manner, crashing the heavy doors against the walls behind them and stalking down the central aisle in full billow. There were a few students looking inexorably miserable in the metal-framed infirmary beds who visibly jumped at the sudden noise, and there was a lamp burning brightly in Poppy's office, revealing the medi-witch writing notes at her desk through the large glass windows that looked out over the hospital ward.
To her credit, she had not looked up as he burst through the doors; no doubt she knew who it was. Damn, he was going to have to work harder at being objectionable if she was growing immune to him. He walked towards her office and leaned nonchalantly upon the frame of the wide-open door.
"Severus," she greeted, without looking up, although he could detect a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth.
"Good evening, Madam," he drawled, not moving from his position and folding his arms.
That made her look up.
"Since when did you address me as Madam, young man?"
"I have a proposal. It seemed correct to observe the correct pleasantries." He waved a long-fingered hand, vaguely.
"A proposal?" She sat back in her chair and removed her small reading spectacles from her nose, placing them on top of the vast, hard-backed ledger that she had been writing in.
"Goodness Severus, I'm not sure my old heart could take being married to you. You would quite wear me out with all your dark brooding looks, sky-high testosterone levels and innate need for drama."
"How dare you," he said softly, his voice oozing silky threat as he stepped uninvited into the office and pulled up a wheeled chair next to the old medi-witch.
She swung around her own wheeled wooden chair to face him.
"You look happy, Severus," she observed, reaching out a hand and touching his cheek in a gesture that made him feel inexplicably pleased.
"And how can you deduce that from the temperature of my face?"
"You are entirely too cheeky, young Master Snape. I can tell a happy face when I see one. I take it the Easter holidays went well with your lady friend?"
"And you are entirely too nosey for your own good. But yes, thank you, it was ... quite pleasant."
"Quite pleasant," Madam Pomfrey scoffed with a chuckle, not at all fooled by his neutral use of language.
"I am sure that if I cast my diagnostic now, Severus, it would read tip-top hormone levels, and a sperm count rapidly replenishing itself from frequent use!"
He had the decency to blush slightly, and this did not escape the old witch's eagle eye. She nodded and smiled knowingly and indulgently, which he found rather annoying.
"Suffice to say, Poppy; that I find myself more content that I have been in a very long time."
"I am delighted to hear that. I hope that I will one day have the pleasure of meeting this young lady who has had the courage, yes courage, don't look at me like that, to draw you out of yourself. Now, let me rescue you from the awkwardness of having to talk about your feelings; if I assume correctly you are here regarding the infirmary potions order?"
"You are correct, however it is not about the half-termly order that you would normally place with me."
"I am aware of this. Minerva has advised me that you will not be stalking the halls of Hogwarts like a black wraith for much longer."
"I thought that she might."
"I was exceptionally happy to hear the news, and even happier when she advised me that you will still be stocking and brewing the infirmary's potions," Poppy smiled at him as she riffled around in a metal tray for a parchment.
"It means you will still have the pleasure of my company on a regular basis, albeit less frequently than you do now."
"Well, I'm not sure I can bear the imposition really, Severus," she teased, her eyes glinting with mischief, enjoying the slightly offended look that touched his face.
"Be away with you!" she continued, handing him the parchment, "I'm nothing but delighted. I suggest that we use the same ordering system as we do currently, using his form here, only now I will owl it to you rather than pass it to you over breakfast at the top table."
He took the parchment, folded it and put it in his pocket. He had seen many of Poppy's order forms over the years, but this blank one would be good to magically copy and send to future clients who would, hopefully, be placing large orders. He leaned forwards, resting his forearms on his knees with his hands clasped together, and fixed his eyes on the old medi-witch who had repaired his shattered body more times than he could bear to count, and always treated him with kindness and respect.
"I am very much in your debt, Poppy."
"Nonsense. I simply do my job."
"Your care of me has for many years been significantly more than just doing your job."
She blushed, and looked a little embarrassed.
"Well, maybe. You are a very special and exceptional young man."
"Thank you. For everything."
There was a moment of calm stillness between the two of them, late that night in the dimly-lit infirmary where they had shared so many hideous times, times when Severus had been fighting for his life, and Poppy had been battling to save it.
"You are most welcome, Severus. I am so proud of you."
Her eyes began to fill with tears, tears that she knew he would not allow.
"Now, tsshhh, off with you! Don't be making me emotional now; we still have a full term to work together."
"No doubt you will be inspecting my breakfast each morning to ensure I have been served the amount of eggs and bacon that you deem sufficient for me to consume," he drawled, one side of his mouth curling in a lop-sided smile.
"No doubt," she replied, in a croaky voice, only reaching for her handkerchief to dab at her watery eyes once the dark, surly wizard had left her office and was stalking silently down the middle of the infirmary to the door, which he would slam. Of course.
- xxx –
The first weekend of the new term it was not practical for Severus to leave the castle as he had a detention to supervise on the Saturday morning, night patrol that evening, and needed to be available for his Slytherins as they settled back in and prepared for exams at the end of term, so Hermione floo'ed to his chambers from the Ministry bank of commuting fireplaces on Friday evening.
She had enjoyed a lovely week back at the Weasleys' each night, travelling to and from work with Arthur and being treated to Molly's amazing home cooking. She had arrived back at the Burrow in time to spend an evening with Ginny before she returned to school in the morning, and to her credit, the youngest Weasley did not repeat any of her parents' suspicions, accepting fully that Hermione's boyfriend was a young wizard who worked at the Ministry.
Ron, George and Angelina had also been home that Sunday night, so dinner was a convivial affair with the long wooden table groaning with food and Weasleys. Ron looked pale and tired; he was putting in as many hours as he could with the Cannons, training hard so that he got selected for every match, and working overtime with the teams' manual support crew to earn extra money. Only Hermione knew that most of his earnings were going to support Keava McDonagh, who as a fellow Quidditch player could not fly due to her advancing pregnancy with Ron's child.
She couldn't say she actually felt sorry for him, after all, it was him and his wandering cock that had got him into this situation, but at least it seemed like he was doing his best to deal with the repercussions.
In a whispered conversation he told her that everything was going well, that Keava was healthy and that they'd had a magical diagnostic done on the baby that showed a strong magical signature and good health.
"So she's not a Squib," Ron beamed, as proudly as any expectant father could be.
"She?" Hermione replied.
"Yeah." He muttered, quickly. "It's going to be a little girl, a little witch."
Something in his tone of voice made her suspect that all was not well inside his head.
"Ron? Are you sure you are going to be alright with having her adopted?"
He paused, and looked up at his long-term friend, sadness in his blue eyes.
"Honestly, Hermione? I don't know. But, me and Keava, we can't raise a child. We're not even together, and neither of us want to be. This is definitely the best solution. Yeah, it definitely is."
Hermione thought that he did not sound particularly certain but decided to let the matter drop. It was Ron's decision to make in conjunction with his former one-night-stand. The whole mess was a crying shame, really, it was.
She stepped over the hearth in Severus' dungeon chambers to find them empty, not unexpectedly, however they were unusually warm and well-lit, and as she walked through to the bedroom to put her bag on the bed, she saw that a bath had been drawn and delicious smell was emanating from the full tub.
She smiled as she remembered the first time she had waited for Severus after work on a Friday and their subsequent reunion in the bathroom, and wondered if he was hinting he'd like a repeat performance. Well, she had no objection to that.
She gladly removed her work clothes, piled her hair on top of her head in a messy bun and slipped into the warm water, the thing that smelled delicious getting to work on her aching muscles straight away.
Not knowing how much time had passed, she opened her eyes from her semi-doze as Severus entered the chambers with a loud bang and a fizz of the security ward being set. He strode straight into the bathroom, clearly knowing exactly where to find his prize. Her face split unbidden into a wide smile as having already dispensed with his outer clothing and footwear, he was unbuttoning his shirt and removing his glamour as he stepped across the small bathroom towards her, leaning over the stone top of the sunken tub and dropping a kiss to her forehead.
"I am glad you are here, my darling girl."
He leaned further forwards and pressed his lips to hers, slipping his tongue between her lips and kissing her deeply and passionately, right there in an upside-down position.
My darling.
It was the most loving thing he had ever said to her, and her heart soared.
- xxx -
The following morning, having sent Severus off to the dungeon classroom to supervise his early detention with the promise of a blow-job when he returned (earning her a pained look as he stalked away from her at the denial of his new favourite pastime, wrapping his robes loosely around himself to conceal his anticipation) she lingered in bed with the Daily Prophet's advertisements section, looking for potential work premises and accommodation for Severus. The apothecary in Hogsmeade was still up for sale, and she circled it with a red muggle pen she had in her bag, it had to be worth a look. She also found a couple of empty shops that included residential accommodation in Diagon Alley, and what appeared to be a vacant hall of some kind with an integral flat above on the South Coast that she also wanted him to view.
Severus sat behind his heavy wooden desk in the potions classroom, seething with unspent arousal that his little tease of a girlfriend had provoked this morning before sending him off to supervision detention with a smile upon her face. He glared out at the two errant Gryffindor boys (of course, they would have to be Gryffindors) who had earned their Saturday morning detention after some particularly colourful language and behaviour during a potions practical making a hair restorative.
Little shits. Hermione was in his bedchamber just mere feet away from where he was currently sitting, the semi-hard erection pressing against his trousers a constant reminder of her proximity. He had set them a task of lines, rather than some hideous task preparing potions ingredients, he wanted no disgusting mess or smells to clear up today. He wanted the miscreants done and gone, so he could return to the infinitely more appealing task of viewing properties with Hermione.
After thoroughly punishing her for her earlier prick-teasing, of course.
A tortuous ninety minutes passed before he dismissed the boys, summoning their parchments to his desk and turning on his heel towards the door to his private chambers before even ensuring they had left the classroom. He had no worries they would linger, what sensible Gryffindor would tarry needlessly in Snake territory?
Sharply opening the chamber door he set a secure ward on it over his shoulder, another upon the Floo to block the connection, and entered the bedchamber, where he found Hermione in the centre of the large four-poster in her little pyjamas, pages of the Daily Prophet spread around her.
She looked up to see an unsmiling Severus Snape in full teaching mode looming above her, a fire in his black eyes, and a jolt of arousal shot through her. He really was so fucking sexy.
"Thank you," he replied, hearing her thoughts. "But I have come to collect on your promise."
He waved his wand sharply over the bed in one severe flicking motion, gathering together all the pages of the newspaper and laying it folded on the bedside table. His eyes not leaving hers for a second, he crooked his finger at her, beckoning her towards him as he arched an eyebrow in expectation. She crawled across the bed and perched on the edge where he stood, and slipped her hands between the opening of his teaching robe, undoing the lower buttons of his coat and trailing her fingers over the fastening of his trousers, feeling him hard and ready.
"Well," she replied, looking cheekily up at him, "I suppose I did promise. Poor Severus, have you been thinking about me all through your detention?"
She pressed against his erection with the flat of her hand, causing a moan of pleasure to escape him, and began to release the fastenings. He was clearly at the limit of his endurance and she dared not push him too far. Besides, she wanted him too, and quickly.
"Yes, little witch, you can be satisfied in sending me off to teach with a most inconvenient erection and thoughts only of your mouth around it," he muttered through clenched teeth.
His diatribe was cut off as she deftly scooped his hot prick and balls from his trousers, sliding them together with his shorts down his narrow hips, running her hands over the velvety-soft skin of his cock, pushing it down to expose the bulbous head, throbbing purple with desire and already dripping wet pre-cum from the slit. She licked the salty fluid from the tip, eliciting a further moan from him and gaining his hand on the back of her head, unable to keep from touching her, pressing her gently into him, encouraging her to take him fully into her mouth.
"Suck me, Hermione, my darling. Fucking Merlin, please suck me."
She sank her mouth fully down his shaft and he shouted his approval, placing his other hand on her shoulder, bare apart from the skinny strap of her sleep vest, rocking himself against her. She slipped one hand underneath his cock to cup and heft his hardening sack, and the other behind him to clutch at his bare arse cheek beneath his coat and teaching robes. Not able to resist a look upwards to catch the full visual of giving Professor Snape a blow-job, she found that the sight of his famously expressionless face contorted in ecstasy whilst still physically dressed as her teacher was as arousing to her as if his raven head was between her legs.
"I believe we need to address some of your professor and student fantasies, Miss Granger," he drawled, his voice low and sonorous, thick with arousal. "I would be ... uhh ... so good ... more than happy to oblige you."
She covered her teeth with her lips and moved her mouth faster up and down the burning hot surface of his cock, relaxing her throat in order to take him as deep as she possibly could without gagging. His hips were now thrusting involuntarily, his smooth buttocks clenching under her hand. As he began to shout and tremble, she moved her hand from his bottom and onto her wand, ready to cast her subtle little spell that evaporated the spunk from her mouth. She had not really developed a taste for that yet, it was a bit too adult-film and demeaning for her nature and liking.
He shot his load into her mouth with a final shout, frantically shaking his hips to eject every last drop, all magicked away by a split-second flick of her wand. He stroked her hair like a cat as he came down from his orgasm, before turning himself around and laying flat on his back atop the bed, breathing heavily.
She curled up next to him, unbuttoning his coat fully to allow him to breathe a little easier, stroking her hand across his shirt-covered chest when she was done, feeling the rise and fall of his lungs.
"Are you ready to go and visit premises?" she asked cheekily.
He opened one eye and glared at her.
"I do believe you are trying to kill me, Granger."
"Relax. I'm joking. I'm going to shower, then we'll go, yes?"
She scuttled off the bed and made for the bathroom, leaving him a heavy-breathing wreck on the bed, his clothing in disarray.
This witch really would be the death of him, he thought with a smile. But what a way to go.