Disclaimer: Not her, not paid, not even very good. Everything you recognize belongs to JKR.

A.N. Lemons ahead. Skip this chapter if it offends. Thanks to Sempra for corrections and encouragement.

Her Gifts

Chapter 38

The hearing was scheduled for the following Tuesday. As it was Wednesday, Hermione had a week to debate her options. She knew Umbridge was behind the inquiry, and that she would fight the betrothal all the way. She fully expected a write up in the newspaper, written by Skeeter's poison pen.

Draco made arrangements to take Pansy away for the weekend, and Lucius had agreed to accompany Narcissa on her fact-gathering weekend for her upcoming tour, so Hermione was to be alone from Friday afternoon through Sunday evening with Severus and the house-elves. She should have realized it was planned that way.

On Saturday, Hermione made her decision. She reread the Malfoy grimore, bathed herself and Severus thoroughly, changed into the white silk chemise Narcissa had given her for Christmas and excused Batin for the evening. She lit just a few candles in the room, not wanting to cast into too harsh a reality the scene about to unfold.

He lay there, so peaceful, and she lovingly caressed his hair, smiling ruefully through her tears at his beloved face. She was about to destroy her dreams, and she knew it. There would be no passionate seduction, no lingering looks or sweet, melting kisses shared. She would never get to experience the look on his face as he entered her for the first time, or how he moved as he made love. Would he have been slow and gentle or would his passion have ignited an inferno of lust, driving him on to a shattering bliss? She would only have this. She would make it as pleasant for them as she possibly could.

She lifted back the sheet, folding it down over his lower legs. She caressed his thighs, warm and firm under her hands. Removing his nightshirt, she ran her hands down his shoulders, molding his flesh, memorizing it. She kissed his chest, breathing in his natural scent that she so adored. Sitting on the bed next to him, hip to hip, she studied his hands, so familiar from years of watching him in the classroom. She sucked his fingers into her mouth, one by one, kissing his palms when she was finished. The fine, dark hairs on his forearms caught her attention, and she lingered over the feel of the soft, silky black down tickling her fingers.

The night wore on as she made gentle love to him for the first and last time. Gathering her courage around her like a cloak, she touched his penis with wonder, watching as it hardened with barely a stroke of her fingers. As the tip moistened, as she had noted before, she indulged her curiosity, dipping her head down to taste. Her tongue touched the tip and a deep, guttural moan escaped her lips. His taste was strong, like the man himself, but not unpleasant, and she licked again, sucking lightly at the head. Desiring the total experience of him, she took him completely into her mouth, running her tongue along the veins and ridges of him, feeling him grow even harder.

She straddled his body then, lying atop him, reveling in the heat generated by him. Grinding herself against his hardness, she moaned, throwing her head back in delight at the pleasurable sensations coursing through her body. Sitting up and peeling her chemise off, she picked up his hands, placing them on her breasts, rubbing his fingers against her nipples. She was wet, she could feel the moisture spreading on both of them. She could smell herself, getting more and more excited as she ground her mound against his thick, twitching shaft.

Lifting up from him, she took hold of his length, slipping it into her opening and back out, teasing herself with it, fondling her clit with it. When she started to buck more forcefully, she slipped him back into her very slippery vagina, and quickly slid all the way down. The pinch of penetration was not terribly painful, but she felt the breaking of the barrier. She utter the words of the incantation, not moving from her position. She felt the magic swirling around them, in them, bursting with so strong an energy she grew frightened.

But then it gradually subsided, and she began to rock, taking her pleasure slowly, feeling the building tension in her abdomen. She lengthened her stroke, lifting up from him and sinking back down, faster and faster, losing rhythm, losing her mind as her orgasm sent her flying over the edge. The clenching of her muscles clasping around his shaft forced Severus' climax, and she could feel the pulsing of his ejaculation as it sent his seed shooting against her cervix, making her shudder once more. She hadn't realized she was crying until she collapsed on his chest, her tears having collected on his sternum.

They weren't tears of pain, but of despair, of heartbreak. She removed her anklet and placed it in his hand. As she cast a cleansing charm, she was openly weeping for her loss. She slipped his nightshirt back on him and pulled up the sheet, then pulled her chemise back over her head. She bent down and kissed his mouth, then left the room.

She didn't see his eyes through her tears as they followed her out the door.

Severus awoke confused when the sun lit up the inside of his room. He recognized the room, having stayed in it many times in his life. He just couldn't understand why he was there or what all the odd items were laying about. He tried to sit up, but proved too weak to manage it.

"Batin!" he croaked out. The elf appeared. "Help me to the bathroom," he growled out. The elf goggled at him, shaking his head. "I must visit the bathroom," Severus demanded.

Batin summoned the urinal, laying it on the sheet beside Snape. He pulled the privacy curtains around the bed hastily.

"What am I to do with this?" Snape snapped.

"Urinate in it, sir," Batin replied. "I shall fetch Hermione for you, sir." And then he was gone.

Severus had to go, now, so he made use of the strange device the elf had left, wondering what he was to do with it when he finished.

The elf popped back in the room, grabbing the now full urinal from a bewildered Snape and crossing to the bathroom to empty it.

"I thought you said you were bringing Miss Granger," he questioned.

"She is not in her room. I will search the house," Batin replied, popping back out again.

Snape tried to adjust his position in the bed and felt the cool metal of the anklet against his wrist. Picking it up and looking at it carefully, he realized he knew this piece. His heart rose into his throat as he garnered the implications. His mind was whirling, trying to process what had happened.