Chapter Fourteen

Truth... I'm the One to Blame

Severus stared down into Hermione's caramel eyes, searching them for any flicker of doubt that would betray her hushed confession. Her gaze remained unwavering as he wished not for the first time that he had even a fraction of the skills his older self had mastered. One glimpse inside her head was all he wanted, just to know how deep her sentiment ran. One glimpse to know if she was truly ready, if she needed more time, or if she would ever be ready. He didn't mind the waiting or how they hovered in a place that crossed the line of friendship but didn't fully reach into what others speculated they were. What he hoped they would eventually become.

Feeling her hand begin a hasty retreat from where it rested just shy of too high up his thigh, he snatched his hand out to stop her, his fingers haphazardly threading over her own. Looking down at his cracked and bruised hand as it clung to hers, he soothed his thumb over her soft skin. Looking back to her eyes, he slowly turned her hand over and ran his fingers over the lines of her palm, as she had done to him countless times in the small hours of the night while they were secreted away in the library.

"Are you sure? It's only been a few months and where we are right now isn't so bad. If you need more time, I'll keep waiting," he asked, his skin heating as he continued to touch her.

He could feel her skin prickle and come alive under his ministrations. Every touch he bestowed on her he felt a ghost of it echo along himself. She remained mute as he slowly brought her arm up to his lips. When his breath whispered across her exposed skin she nodded her head, her eyes growing warm with a shining lust. He dragged his nose up the line of her veins, his lips leaving a faint trail of kisses at her wrist and in her palm.

Feeling his chest tighten and the release of a short breath, he looked over her raised hand and watched her. Hermione was shifting on the bench with desperate twitches that he felt mimicked in his cock as it pulsed to life. Catching her eye, Severus raised an expectant eyebrow as he awaited her next move.

"Yes, I'm sure," she breathed out, her head bobbing eagerly as her hips rolled on the bench again.

There was only a quick thought of pause before his mind was overridden and he found himself dropping her hand in favor of grasping her hips. He hauled her into his lap, his cock making a jerky jump upwards as her warming cunt rolled down onto him. Her head fell back at the hot friction releasing a needy moan from her throat. Her sounds made his blood burn as he involuntarily thrust his hips up to meet her rocking motion. Needing more, he tightened his grip on her, making her drag and grind along his length as she moved.

Hermione's hands traveled up his chest, moving to curl around his shoulders, before locking behind his neck and forcing his eyes to meet hers. Being locked in her soul deep gaze while her body moved above him was unlike anything he had been able to dream up over the last months while living with her. Every sigh and touch she gave him was searing itself past his skin and deep into his muscles' memory.

Her fingers wound their way through the ends of his hair turning his head up higher as she brought herself down to kiss him. It was desperate and all consuming as their mouths crashed together, her tongue impatiently coaxing his own out. He swallowed her moans as he eagerly followed her lead on what to do, his fingers pressing deeper into the softness of her hips as he worked her faster and relented his restraint to begin thrusting up to meet her.

The muted sensations of his pajama covered cock bluntly rubbing against her still covered cunt left him with a raging need to strip her bare. The drops of wetness that trickled out of her and began to dampen his clothes, had him fighting the urge to spread her out on the table and bury himself inside of her. As she writhed and moaned within his arms, he couldn't even be bothered to care that his first sexual encounter, his first kiss, was happening in the middle of the kitchen with an audience. All he cared about was the rising inferno within them both and how desperately he wanted to douse it for them both.

However his mind had another idea at the flash of a reminder about how inexperienced he was compared to her. That inexperience in the face of her already knowing him intimately had caused him to pull back from her on several occasions. His mind desperately latched on to the thought, clawing to come back to him to pierce the fog of lust that he was beginning to realize was manufactured. He tried to rip his lips away from hers but his body was still not entirely his own, the desire and need for release forcing him to bring his mouth to her neck instead.

"Don't... Stop..." Hermione begged, over the sound of someone yelling her name.

Fuck! It wasn't supposed to be like this! He screamed inside his head, his anger trying to stomp out his lust.

Severus could feel the desire growing hotter within him and the compulsion to touch and expose her grow. He continued to scream and fight himself as his hand snaked under her shirt and began to travel up the planes of her stomach, her breasts nearly within reach.

"Yes," she hissed, offering herself up to him.

The tips of his fingers grazed the underside of her breasts, his first touch of a witch's body nearly sending him back into the drugged haze as Harry yelled, "Ron, check the mail!"

Hearing the frantic shouts of their housemates brought him back to himself once more. Ripping his mouth from her neck with a feral growl, his hold on her grew punishing as he tried to still her hips.

"No, I'm so close," she whined, rubbing against him as he struggled to wrestle her off of him.

"Hermione," he panted, trying to steady himself as his cock once again jumped to meet her. "Something is wrong."

Gritting his teeth, he hefted her off of him, dropping her none too gently on the bench as he jumped up and stepped over the seat to put space between them.

"I think one of the envelopes has been tampered with. It's the only thing she's touched that we haven't, but that wouldn't explain how you were infected or why it's affecting her so badly," Harry explained in a rush, his wand quickly flicking aside mail that proved to not be the culprit.

Looking back at Hermione as she continued to rub herself off on the bench seat, her movements growing frustrated, he saw her hands go up her shirt and begin to lift it.

"Let's keep that down for now, yeah?" He said, quickly yanking her hands back out and pushing them to her sides before stepping back from her again. "One of you needs to call Kingsley," he started to instruct as she leaned from the bench to reach for him. "And get her purse," he added desperately, uncaring as he reached down to adjust himself, his cock pulsing with a throbbing ache that was driving him mad.

If she feels even a fraction of the sensitivity I do, it's a wonder she hasn't come a dozen times already.

"What did I do wrong?" Hermione asked, rubbing her thighs together as long tears rolled down her cheeks. "Please tell me, I'll make it better. I need you."

"You didn't do anything," he snapped, making her cry harder. "I'm just a bloody fool is all," he mumbled, taking an additional step back from her.

As his mind cleared his anger grew. He had often lain awake at night wondering how just a few months post Hogwarts he had become the man he had seen in his memories, a man who could call upon the Unforgivables as easily as breathing. However watching Hermione as her body betrayed her and overrode her mind, leaving her defenseless to a sexual assault, he was positive he could have used them all right then. Someone had attacked them in their own home, the one place she was supposed to feel safe and be allowed to let her guard down. They had stripped her of her hard fought need for security and it made his blood boil with wrath instead of lust.

Merlin, have mercy on their soul... he thought, as raw magic sparked from his fingertips. Because Salazar knows I won't when I find them.

"I have her purse, what am I looking for?" Harry rushed out, dumping the bag's contents onto the table.

"I've got it!" Ron shouted from the opposite end. "It was a letter addressed to you, Harry."

"Wrap it in a cloth so they can examine it at the Ministry," Harry instructed, rummaging through the unmarked vials with him.

"Will you all leave?" Hermione shrieked. "Can't you see he won't touch me if you're here and I need him. He's the only one who can make this ache go away."

"What happened to her?" Ron asked, his concern halting his movement to the fireplace as he watched her.

"My best guess is someone laced that envelope with some sort of potion to lower inhibitions," Severus answered, stepping between her and Ron, trying to preserve what he could of her modesty.

His attempt to shield her however put him directly back within her reach. No sooner had he stepped into place did she start rubbing her face and body against his shirtless stomach. Tensing at the contact as he focused on his breathing and not his weeping cock, his hand clenched at his side. His exercise in self restraint became even more difficult when her tongue came out and began to lick a wet path up his side and across his ribs. The sensation stoked the fire in his blood and warmed his body further as his eyes rolled back.

He snapped back to consciousness though as her hands grabbed ahold of his pajama bottoms and began trying to tug them down his hips.

Reaching for his wand to bind her hands and coming up empty he swore before yelling, "Will one of you restrain her?"

"Is it safe for us to touch her? She only wants you, Severus. I don't want to hurt her or make it worse," Harry asked cautiously.

"Dormitas!" Kingsley yelled from behind, a shower of lavender colored sparks leaving his wand's tip to sink into Hermione's chest.

Her body began to slump as each spark burrowed into her chest. She slowly slithered down his side, coming to lay on the bench.

Grabbing his hand, she laced her fingers through his and pulled it to her chest as she sleepily pleaded, "Don't pull away. I can't lose you again."

Reaching forward Severus brushed away the errant curls that were sticking to her sweaty forehead. With his mind out from under the influence he could feel how fevered her body had become from whatever drug their mail was laced with. Droplets of her sweat rolled down the side of her face washing away the trail of tears she had expressed before Kingsley had put her to sleep and gathering at the collar of the shirt she had slept in.

Feeling his raw, barely controlled magic still twitching from the tips of his fingers, he whispered, "Ventus Glacé."

As the cool air began to blow around her body, she sighed in her enchanted sleep and pulled his arm closer to her, nuzzling her face where their palms joined. Careful of his movements, Severus sat on the bench and positioned her head in his lap. She gave an incoherent mumble as he moved her, shaking his hand loose as she turned over to bury her face in his abdomen. She again nuzzled against him, pushing her hair out of her before wrapping her arms around his hips and settling back into her deep sleep, her breath warming his skin.

"How long will she sleep for?" He asked, looking down at her peaceful face.

"A few hours. I hope to have at least some answers for her before she wakes," Kingsley said. "What exactly happened? Ron said Hermione had been drugged and I didn't wait for more before stepping through the fireplace."

Finally looking at the Interim Minister, Severus took note of his partially dressed state and snorted. The man who hours after fighting in a war had managed to still look regal was currently standing in the kitchen barefoot, with only his trousers and undershirt on with soot spattered on the white cotton, and half his face shaved, cream still clinging to a part of his jaw.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and tried to recall every detail before speaking. Replaying the events in his head, he gestured to his right and began to paint the scene.

"Harry was over at the fireplace, getting ready to call you after losing the bet this morning. Ron was standing over him and taking the mickey out of him from the headline in Witch Weekly, this morning."

Severus could hear the rapid scratching of a quill as he spoke and the murmured instructions to Harry and Ron to pay attention because this was better than any classroom training they would receive.

Moving his hand to where the pile of mail had been dropped off, he continued, "Every morning the owls leave the post in the center of the table in a massive heap. If those rags get delivered we take bets on the headlines over chores before we begin eating. After that, Hermione scoops the mail over to her and begins to sort it by recipient. It's her morning ritual: she gets breakfast started, puts away any dishes, brews the coffee and the tea, sets the table, directs the owls from the window, and prioritizes the mail. Aside from the periodicals, she's always the first one to touch it."

At the realization his eyes snapped open. He had never noticed it before he started walking Kingsley through their morning but as he quickly recalled every morning at Grimmauld Place since she arrived, he was certain of it. No one in the house ever touched the mail before her. Harry half the time didn't even have his glasses, Ron was usually sleep eating, and he barely ate anything or spoke till after his first cup of coffee, sometimes his second if he had been up till the early hours of the morning with Hermione in the library.

"She was targeted!" Harry yelled, making Hermione jump in his lap. "Sorry," he added in a hushed whisper.

Though she was in an enchanted sleep and wouldn't wake till the spell wore off, he soothed her hair back and hummed by her ear till she settled back against him, her muscles once again relaxing.

"We can't be certain of that, don't jump to conclusions. While it is safe to say that most of Wizarding Britain knows the four of you live together, no one could have known that Hermione was the one who handled the post each morning."

"Harry it was addressed to you, I think Hermione just intercepted it," Ron reasoned.

"A likely possibility," Kingsley agreed, "but you need to keep your mind from forming theories till after interviews are conducted and the evidence gathered. Doing it now will only skew what you find to fit what you've already created.

"So Hermione was sorting the mail. What happened after that?"

With an exasperated sigh, Severus closed his eyes again and continued to replay the morning.

"She got to the bottom of the pile, which had four letters from Hogwarts. She tossed Harry's and Ron's with their stacks making a comment about Professor McGonagall still hoping they would finish their schooling. We opened the letters and they detailed that all returning fifth, sixth, and seventh years, plus those of us that are repeating any of those years would need to be re-sorted before the start of term. Fifth years are on Wednesday, sixth the following week, and so on.

"Hermione wasn't happy about it and while she was explaining the possible negative optics behind such a move, I..."

I started pulling away, he finished silently not wanting to say it aloud.

"You what?" Prompted Kingsley.

"I removed my hand from her thigh and moved down the bench a bit," he grumbled.

"So you were touching her before everything started?"

"Yes," he ground out, rolling his eyes at Harry's look of annoyance.

"So wait, are you two together?" Ron demanded.

At the same time, Harry snapped, "I told you she wasn't in the right headspace for this. She probably hopes to ease her pain by-"

"Shut the fuck up," he growled. "That is off topic to anyone who wasn't there that night. She made that abundantly clear when the papers began to speculate about it."

It hadn't taken long after his identity was confirmed by the press for rumors to begin. They were almost always together and often photographed a little too close to each other or seen being too comfortable to be considered platonic. He didn't help matters either with his protective and possessive outbursts. He had been photographed countless times over the last three months, getting into the faces of photographers and reporters who thought because of her heroine status they could trample over her privacy and personal space; physically fighting those who thought to put their hands on her; and jinxing or flat out cursing those who wouldn't leave well enough alone and would ask her to tell them about the horrific things she had seen or for details about what it had been like to be tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange or how it felt to have to kill someone to save her own life and if it had been worth it.

Of all the questions and speculations that circled them, that was the biggest one that everyone was dying to know. Not how he was twenty years younger than he had been when the second of May had started or why every document surrounding his life had been permanently sealed and moved to the Department of Mysteries. No, everyone and their kneazle wanted to know if Hermione Granger had been sleeping with former Professor and Headmaster Severus Snape and if so, for how long.

"What's off topic?" Ron asked, his annoyance at being out of the loop rising.

"Severus's return," Kingsley said sharply. "It's a closed case within the Department of Mysteries. And as everyone here is aware, including you Harry, those of us that were there are bound by the additional laws of that department to not speak of it without approval from the department head and the Minister of Magic, andas long as I'm in that office I will not. E approving its reveal."

With the subject closed down, Severus returned to his explanation of the events, his words more clipped than they were before.

"When I went to move away from her, she reached out to stop me. We agreed to not continuously hold back from each other and that's when I kissed her hand..."

Like flipping a switch, understanding dawned inside his head about how he had been drugged but to a lesser degree and the question was finally answered about why the drug seemed familiar to him.

"...And that's when the drug that contaminated the envelope was transferred to me. Whatever remained on her hands ended up on my lips and at some point I must have licked them and ingested it. It probably wasn't enough to transfer from touch to touch but you only need a drop in order to experience the euphoria it's designed to induce.

"From there things are kind of hazy. My mind was completely suppressed and my body was acting of its own volition. I imagined it to be like the Imperius Curse except no one prompts you to act, your actions are of your own sexual desires unrepressed. It creates a burning, all consuming lust and every touch and sensation is shared between the taker and their partner.

"Once the envelope is tested, the results will show a unique blend of something to lower inhibitions and a lust enhancing potion. Its unstable state will be balanced with faint traces of a modified Amorentia so the drinker, or in this case the one who's been drugged, only engages with someone who smells of what attracts them."

"Blimey, who the hell even has the skills to create something like that?" Ron asked.

Looking directly at Kingsley, he answered, "I do. I created it and would brew and sell it out of the second floor girls' bathroom when I was in school, but only to couples who were engaging in using the drug consensually. I called it, L'Amant Libéré, The Liberated Lover. And to the best of my knowledge, I'm the only person with the recipe but who knows how true that still is. Before you leave I'll get you the ingredients in the potion and the recipe for the antidote in case this wasn't isolated to just someone in the house."

Blocking out the judgmental looks on his housemates' faces, Severus unwrapped Hermione's arms from around his hips and laced her hands at the back of his neck. Hooking one arm under her legs and the other around her waist, he stood in a fluid motion and carried her from the room. Making his way to the third floor and the room directly across the hall from his, he tried to push the handle down with his elbow.

"Son of a bitch!" He swore under his breath as his skin burned.

Stretching the fingers of the hand that was wrapped around her waist, he reached for the hem of her shirt. After several failed attempts, he finally grasped the fabric and was able to pull it back far enough to expose the butt of her wand. Hooking it between his fingers he slid it out from her sleep shorts and brought it up to her limp hand. Closing his left hand around hers, he brought the tip of her wand to her door and hoped her magical signature was enough to lower her wards. When a few sparks sputtered out, he tried the door again only to receive the same results on his opposite elbow.

"At least they fucking match," he muttered. With a sigh he added, "Well then little witch, looks like you're sleeping in my bed."

Turning around and crossing the short width of the hall, he popped his own door open with one of his abused elbows. Dropping her wand on the dresser, it rolled towards the mirror coming to rest next to his. The sight was rather domestic and one he fleetingly thought he wouldn't mind seeing every morning.

Carrying her over to the unmade bed, he was thankful that Kreacher hadn't yet made his way over to his room to tidy up. Lowering her into the sheets, he pulled the duvet up to cover her and recast the cooling charm over her still warm body. As he backed away, Hermione let out a soft whimper and clutched at the sheets.

"Severus, please don't..." she murmured in distress. "Don't do this..."

"I won't," he whispered, coming back over to her unsure of what he had just promised not to do.

Even in her sleep, she somehow knew he was within her reach again and grabbed ahold of his wrist. With more force than she should have in her unconscious state she yanked him forward and pulled him down into the bed with her. Shaking her hand loose, he rolled off of her and went to slide out of the bed. As his right foot made contact with the floor, she followed him in her sleep, hooking her left leg over his and her arm across his torso.

Well, there are worse ways to spend the rest of my morning, he thought as he reached to adjust the pillows behind him.

When they would be surrounded by the old and always dusty books in the back of the Black Family Library, Hermione would often curl against him and fall into a light doze. He carried a great sense of pride in how she was never disoriented when she would wake, even when his arms would be wrapped around her or his head asleep atop of hers. Pulling what he could of the bed linens around them, he hoped that level of safety she felt with him was something he wouldn't lose.

Laying in the bed with her, Severus hesitantly wrapped his arms around her like he would if they had been on the forest green couch. The action normally came easily to him but there was something about being in bed with her that made the act feel even more intimate. In the library they could easily play it off as a friendly gesture if one of them became skittish, but in between his sheets, where he often thought of her before drifting off to sleep or while he stroked his cock to orgasm, he couldn't help but feel like this time it meant more and wished that she was aware of it happening.

Feeling his eyes grow heavy as her deep breaths lulled him back to sleep, he pressed his lips to the top of her hair and breathed in her calming, lavender vanilla scent before falling asleep with her.