I'm so sorry to keep you guys waiting! RL has been hectic! Thank you so much to everyone who has Reviewed to let me know that you care and that you're enjoying my story! Special thanks to everyone who Reviewed Chapter 13: VividVideoGeek, ACupples, Karen Bristow, lia. , awwhenley, Angela, WizardSmurf, Mel, Elliania, McKenzie Shea, lornabrownie, 24, Sobela, NeoQBirdie, Bridget Vo, Karli1252, marzipan4, Amarenima Redwood, phantomcollie, Onyx Obsidian, DracozSlytherinPrincess, Calindy, Ciule, VividVideoGeek, Aisti, Fantomette34, Pirocantha, Vaila, Snapers91, DragonIris, moon kitty 87, ZaniOne, Colormewonderful909, Whack-the-beetle, Martionmanswife, slytherinxbadxgirl, Ccurioser, and several Guests! THANK YOU SO MUCH IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME!
…*~*J*~*...
Hermione woke with a start. The room was pitch black and the air was cold and she was curled up in her husband's arms. She gasped aloud. His bare chest was pressed against her back, his arm draped over her waist, and the hard length of his morning erection was pressed into her from behind. Her cheeks warmed and she tried not to move. She didn't want to wake him.
Snape's breath was deep and even. She could feel it in her hair. But he had her in a tight embrace and she knew she'd wake him if she tried to get free. And anyway, she didn't actually want to be free. His large frame fit so perfectly around her. It was so intimate. The closeness of him made her heart beat faster as a giddy excitement coursed through her veins. My husband, she couldn't help but think, rolling her eyes at herself and marvelling at the ferocity of her biological response.
It was early morning, probably about the time she would normally wake up. But it was Saturday. Finally, it was Saturday. And she didn't feel the need to get out of bed just yet.
Hermione relaxed into her husband's arms, savouring the way her pulse was leaping and heat was collecting at the base of her spine. With him so close behind her, his erection so apparent, it was not hard to imagine him waking up and taking her that way. The thought nearly made her gasp aloud and fanned the furnace between her legs. Today was the day they would consummate this marriage. And she was ready. So ready.
A familiar scent. His wife's shampoo. It filled the air and conjured visions in his mind. The shape of his bathroom formed around him, the scorching torrent of his shower pounding hard against his aching flesh. His wife appeared, stepping naked beneath the same cascade. Soap slicked her soft, pale skin. Her soft curves. So wet. He pulled her close, turning her around to press his cock against that firm, perfect arse. Her slender, soft body felt so good...
He woke with a gasp, realizing that his wife really was in his arms and that he really was pressed up against her arse. His cock jumped and she tensed in response. Suddenly, he was wide awake. He jerked away from her, rolling onto his back, and fought the urge to pull a hand across his face. Shame and humiliation climbed up his throat, twisting the features of his face. He wanted to run from her. But worse, his cock was still hard and he still remembered the way she felt pressed tight against him. Had he been alone, he would have taken himself in hand and chased the fantasy to completion. But Granger was there beside him, awake and aware of what was happening with his body. He wanted to excuse himself. He wanted to shame her for shaming him. He wanted to roll on top of her and consummate their marriage right then and there. His cock throbbed at the thought. But he just turned away from her and resigned himself, in silence, to frustration and restless fatigue.
Hermione waited what she deemed to be a believable period of time before pretending to wake up, shift positions, and then climb slowly out of bed. She was well aware that her husband was awake and her body still thrummed with the memory of his… his penis throbbing against her. It told her that, if nothing else, his sleeping self sure wanted her. Well, it wouldn't have to wait much longer.
Hermione nodded to her professors at the head table as she sat down to breakfast. She loved breakfast on Saturdays, when most of the school was still sleeping so the room was quiet and calm, full of clarity and readiness for the day. The marmalade seemed extra sweet today, flavor bursting on her tongue as her toast crunched perfectly with every bite. Then there were the poached eggs with black pepper and the porridge, which she sweetened with honey and blueberries and cinnamon (an odd but delectable combination). She was happily munching when the post arrived with her copy of the Daily Prophet.
A Wave of Annulments
the headline read.
She dropped her spoon into the bowl. The alarming title was followed by an article detailing the first wave of annulments that had come about as a consequence of couples not fulfilling their marital contracts. Hermione's eyes went wide. No warning or anything. The couples simply hadn't fulfilled their end of the deal-they either hadn't had sex or they used contraceptive-and the whole marriage was void. She tried to swallow a mouthful of porridge only for it to stick like glue in her throat. She caught McGonagall's eye as the older witch looked over her own copy of the Prophet. Her professor's mouth became one flat line and it was clear that she had numerous opinions to voice on the matter, but she said nothing.
…*~*J*~*...
As he was already wide awake, his mind buzzing with frustration and shame, Severus finally pulled himself out of bed and got dressed for breakfast. He couldn't stop reliving the morning over and over again. Granger's obvious embarrassment and powerlessness at waking up trapped in his arms. The fact that she clearly thought it would be better to pretend to be asleep, as if he couldn't tell. How long she had lain there trapped, his cock pressed hard against her bum, he'd never know. And then his cock twitching against her in arousal. He cringed. It felt like such a horrid trespass, even if she did belong to him.
He was just turning the corner into the Great Hall when Minerva appeared, looking flustered. The woman's eyes went wide. "Severus," she snapped, reaching for his arm, "a word."
Fuck. He'd been avoiding the witch all week. She was clearly unhappy about his new nuptials and he didn't think she was planning to congratulate him.
Minerva dragged him to the side of the Entrance Hall and cast a spell to keep their conversation private. "Well," she began in a hushed, angry voice, "you have done quite a job of avoiding me." She glared at Severus who made to respond before she cut him off, poking a finger at his chest. "Now I know this situation couldn't be helped, but that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it," she snapped. Severus opened his mouth only to have her talk over him again. "Miss Granger is our brightest student; the brightest student Hogwarts has seen in a decade. She has a world of opportunity open to her. The last thing she needs is to be tied down."
"Minerva, you are aware that I did not write the law…"
"Yes, yes, I know it was not to be avoided, what with your…" she waved a hand up and down his form, "position."
"She is planning to stay at Hogwarts for an apprenticeship," Severus cut in before Minerva could say anything more. For some strange reason, he was feeling defensive. "By the time she is done, this law will certainly have been repealed."
"Yes, but a lot could happen between now and then."
"Certainly. There is a lot we hope does happen before then."
Minerva rolled her eyes, shooting him an impatient glare. "I mean…" she hissed, "that everything will change if the girl conceives."
"Oh." Severus's eyes went wide and heat pooled in his face. For a man normally so practiced at suppressing his emotional response, Severus had certainly been caught off guard.
"I have been reading all I can about the law and there doesn't appear to be any perfect method…"
"Do not concern yourself with this, Minerva. I assure you, we have a strategy." Severus could not believe he was having this conversation. And today, of all days.
"Oh! Good. Good." Minerva visibly relaxed. "Of course. Trust the two of you to come up with something." But at that her eyes grew sad and she looked up into her colleague's face. "Oh Severus," she murmured, her voice full of emotion. It made the man in question rather more than a bit uncomfortable. "She has always looked up to you."
Severus let out a bark of laughter. "That's ridiculous," he spat, not knowing what else to say.
"Don't be a fool, Severus, of course she has. The lengths she's gone to to gain your approval… I'm afraid…" Minerva trailed off, turning her eyes down and biting her lip. It was unnerving to watch such a serious witch display such emotion. "You and I both know that you are unlikely to develop… feelings… for Miss Granger," she began again. "But I am afraid she will likely fall in love with you."
"What?!"
"Oh of course she will, Severus. She is young. She's inexperienced. She's a very passionate young woman. I remember what it was like to be her age." Minerva's eyes grew cloudy as she stared off into space, seeing something that wasn't there. "Don't assume that a studious, intelligent witch is not susceptible to the siren's song of infatuation."
"Minerva," Severus choked out, "that's… don't be… ridiculous. The girl is half my age."
The older witch turned an amused grin on him at that. "Yes, and she has a history of falling for older men. Don't you remember Gilderoy?"
Severus flinched back. "Are you comparing me to that buffoon?"
"She was enamored with that buffoon. And he was about your age, wasn't he? I assure you, Severus, Miss Granger has always had the highest opinion of you." The laughter in her eyes grew cold and sad. "Which is why you need to be careful. Loving you is not easy or safe and that young woman has a history of making risky decisions for those she loves. She is, after all, a Gryffindor."
Minerva's words echoed in his mind as Severus made his way up to the head table. His young wife was still there, to his dismay. He was struck with the recollection of waking up with her in his arms. How had all of this happened? How had she somehow managed to complicate his life even more than it already was? And in only a week?
Granger lifted her eyes from a copy of the Daily Prophet as he approached. "Morning," she said without a note of embarrassment in her voice. "Have you seen this?" She handed him the paper as he took his seat. The article in question was immediately apparent.
"Merlin," he murmured under his breath. Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse.
"I know," she agreed. "It's strange, isn't it? I thought for sure it was all a ruse; just an excuse to tag us with Monitoring Charms. But if that were the case, why would they be so strict about the terms?"
Severus glanced over at her in surprise. He had come to the same conclusion about Monitoring Charms. "That was my assumption as well," he confessed, his voice confused. He should learn not to underestimate her.
"The article doesn't detail much. Mostly it lists some of the more prominent couples who were broken up as well as their scathing comments about Fudge and his brainless new policy. Then there's Fudge's argument that breaking the law is breaking the law and there are consequences, yadda yadda. The rest is mostly filler."
"Well, perhaps I will pick up on something you didn't catch," said Severus, beginning to read.
Granger snorted, much to his dismay, "You can certainly give it a try," she said, "It's quite vague. I had hoped they might detail the ways in which the couples didn't fulfill their contract, but it isn't any more specific than to say that they either abstained or used birth control. I had been toying with the idea of using a Muggle contraceptive, such as perhaps an intrauterine device. They are supposed to be among the most effective and least dangerous as far as Muggle medicine goes… but anyway it's not worth the risk."
"Mmm," Severus grunted noncommittally, reaching for a slice of toast. It occurred to him that he should tell her about his plan for that evening and what he had discovered about the law, but here was not the place for such discussion.
"Do you think it could be a distraction?" she wondered aloud. "That, perhaps, if they put on enough of a show, we won't be suspicious about the Monitoring Charm?"
"Or perhaps Fudge really does imagine that this is an effective way to unite the populace."
Granger sighed and leaned back in her chair. "I think that worries me the most," she confessed. "I mean it's one thing when you're up against a conniving villain with obvious motives. How do you fight back when it's just an imbecile with too much power making stupid mistakes?"
Severus didn't respond. He was trying to read the article but he couldn't stop thinking about what Minerva had said. It was ridiculous to imagine Granger falling in love with him. She wasn't the little third year twit she had been when she had apparently fawned after Lockheart. She had grown up so much, in so many ways, and he simply hadn't noticed. Now, she was a brilliant witch, wise in a way that came both from experience and from the curiosity that made her who she was. When all of this was said and done she would go off to do impressive things with her life and likely fall in love with an impressive young man. Just the thought caused his gut to twist with jealousy. Foolishness. But if the alternative was for her to throw her life away for him… He chose not to consider that line of thinking. It was ridiculous, anyway. Hermione Granger was far too intelligent to fall in love with him.
"Anyway, I'd best be off," said Granger, pushing back her chair, "enjoy your breakfast."
He watched her leave, tracing her form all the way down the length of the hall. She had chosen Muggle jeans today and the way they hugged her round arse and shapely legs aroused him more than he wanted to admit. He should be eagerly anticipating the night to come, excited to consummate his relationship with such a beautiful, intelligent witch. But all Severus felt was self-loathing and dread for the coming humiliation of watching the girl reluctantly submit to her professor's obvious arousal. He cringed.
In the eyes of the law, she belonged to him, but Severus knew she would never be his.
…*~*J*~*...
"So… tonight's the night," Ginny mused, her lips twitching up at one side.
"Shhh!" said Hermione, glancing around. They were wandering the corridors and no one was around, but she couldn't be too careful. "Yes. Finally."
"Wow, 'Mione. Never thought I'd see you so anxious to get under your professor."
"I know," said Hermione in a tone more of wonder than of shame. "It is strange, isn't it? I mean, this time just last week I wanted nothing to do with the man. I was worried to death over the pickle I'd gotten myself into."
Ginny's brow furrowed. "You never let on."
"Of course not," said Hermione, turning her eyes to the ground with a nervous smile. "The last thing I wanted was the rest of you feeling sorry for me."
"So, what do you think has changed, then? Now you're so keen on all this?"
"I dunno. I suppose, maybe, living with him, I've gotten to see more of the man he is than just the facade of our potions master. Plus…" she added, thoughtfully, "he looks damn good in my Gryffindor pajamas."
"What?"
The two of them giggled hysterically as Hermione related the gist of the story, without saying so much that it felt like a trespass. Odd, she mused, that she had gotten to a place in her relationship with him that she didn't want to tell his secrets to her friend.
"What I don't understand," said Ginny, as they meandered back toward Gryffindor tower, "is why he's acting so reluctant. I mean, I would have expected him to be… I dunno… creepy about it, you know?"
Hermione smiled, understanding. "I thought the same thing. But I guess it's not that surprising that we could be so wrong about him. I mean, how could we presume to know the aloof Slytherin spy so well? I doubt if I'll ever know the real Severus Snape."
"Does that bother you?"
Hermione considered. It hadn't bothered her. Not until right now. She shook her head. "It's all temporary anyway, isn't it? I mean, eventually they'll repeal this ridiculous law and we'll… go our separate ways." For some strange reason, the thought was kind of sad. She pictured her husband sitting cross-legged on their bed in her Gryffindor pajamas. It felt right, somehow. Being with him felt right.
She shook her head. That was foolishness, of course. They had only been married for a week and hadn't even had sex yet. Hell, he was a Death Eater for Merlin's sake. True, he was on the right side now, but… Or, at least… she believed he was on the right side…
"Well," said Ginny, "not if you get pregnant, you won't."
"Oh no. We've found a way around that."
"Have you?"
"Well, it's not perfect, but… we're going to use the pull out method."
"Oh gods," said Ginny, cringing and holding a hand up to Hermione, "I'm sorry I asked."
Hermione laughed. Their footsteps echoed in the deserted corridor. She needed to work on homework soon, but it was refreshing to spend some time with her friend. "Is it so weird for me to be excited?" she asked.
"Well… it's Snape, so… yes. But… it's also your first time, so… no, I think that's completely reasonable."
"I know you can't imagine it, but he really can be quite… sweet."
"Ugghh gross Hermione."
"I know, I know. But… you know… I already feel like I know him so much better, just living with him. Part of me thinks… after tonight, our relationship will be changed forever."
"Well… yeah."
"I mean… after this… even if… when they repeal the law, we'll never go back to being just teacher and student."
Ginny was silent for a moment. "Well, do you want to?"
Hermione considered. She tried to picture bumping into him somewhere public, like Diagon Alley, years from now; how awkward he'd be; how both of them would be remembering the intimate moments they had shared. "I think I'm already past that point," she admitted in a breathless voice.
"Merlin, Mione. You've got it bad."
Hermione's face grew warm. "I know. I'm an awful fool. There's no way he will ever return the sentiment, but… I have to admit I've grown rather fond of him."
"Gods," said Ginny, shaking her head. "You're the only person I know who'd be excited to shag Snape."
"I know. I can't believe it, myself."
"You'll have to tell me all about it, of course," said Ginny with a grin.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at her friend. "I don't think that's proper, Gin. He's your professor too, after all."
Hermione decided to eat her lunch in their chambers. He had finally allowed her the use of one of his desks and it was about time she made herself at home there. All of her books were still stacked on the floor and her pens and quills were scattered at the bottom of her suitcase.
She called for Dobby and asked him to bring her a sandwich before setting to work. First, she lined her books up on the surface so that their spines were visible and the edges of their pages were pressed against the wall. Perhaps later she could find a set of shelves that fit there, but for now this would have to do. Next, she set out her various pots of ink and arranged her various quills from decorative to useful. She decided the best place for her blank parchment would be one of the three drawers to the side of her chair. Perhaps the bottom drawer. So she pulled it open and froze.
From within the depths of the drawer the face of an attractive witch winked up at her from the cover of a glossy magazine. Hermione's jaw dropped. She couldn't stop herself from reaching down and yanking out the dusty red and black subscription. The witch on the front was lying on her stomach, her generous breasts pressed seductively against the black velvet of the surface beneath her. The swell of her lace-clad bum was just visible in the background as she lazily hooked and unhooked her ankles, showing off black heels. She winked at Hermione and blew kisses at her with those perfect dark red lips.
Hermione should have stuffed the magazine away, but curiosity won out. She couldn't stop herself from rifling through the pages, gawking at the busty witches smirking and waving at her seductively from each glossy page. They were all so perfect; tall and beautiful and confident with tiny waists and abs and impossibly perfect curves. They made Hermione feel young and awkward and skinny and pale.
The door swung open and she jumped, spinning around and trying to stuff the magazine behind her back. Professor Snape's eyes went wide. In three long strides, he crossed the room and reached around her to rip the magazine out of her hand. She danced out of his way as he Banished the contents of the drawer. He was fuming with rage, but he said nothing.
"S-sorry," she managed, not quite able to look him in the eye.
"You," he began, breaking off. Hermione got the impression he was trying not to say something biting and hurtful. "I…" He huffed, twisting away from her and going to his own desk. In one angry movement, he swept the parchments on top into his arms and strode toward the door. "I have work to do," he finished lamely, slamming the door on his way out.
Hermione stared after him, her cheeks hot. She cringed and ran a hand over her face in shame. "Well, that was… mortifying," she murmured to herself.
…*~*J*~*...
Severus slammed the stack of parchments down on his desk, several rolls bouncing off onto the floor, and began to pace. Could this day get any worse? She must consider him some sort of pervert by now. He almost considered just letting this marriage be annulled, rather than sleeping with her tonight. At least he wouldn't have to finish the act. He groaned aloud, running nervous fingers through his hair. None of this would have been so complicated with Nymphadora. It would have been strictly business, no judgment, no emotions. But Granger… It had only been a week and everything was in chaos.
Powerless and frustrated, Severus finally threw himself down into the chair behind his desk and decided to pour his attention into grading. It was a welcome distraction. At least for now.
He worked on grading for the rest of the day, taking a break now and then to work on lesson plans, and eventually it was time to go to dinner. He considered skipping that altogether, but he'd run out of essays to grade. And besides, he'd have to deal with Granger eventually. Perhaps it would be better to see her next out in public, where she couldn't make awkward apologies or insist on explanations. Whoever knew what a witch might do? So, finally, reluctantly, Severus made his way to the Great Hall.
He arrived late and Granger was already there, chatting happily with Filius Flitwick, which Severus found unusually annoying.
"So you can actually create new spells, then?" the girl was saying.
"Yes, indeed. That's the sort of thing you'd learn to do as a Charms apprentice."
"Really? You know, I am wanting to do an apprenticeship here."
Filius chortled happily. "Well, of course you are! And I daresay you could apprentice in any subject you wanted to. Naturally, I would be honoured if you chose Charms."
Severus tried to shut out their conversation and concentrate on eating, but he couldn't keep his attention from focusing on his wife's incessant chatter.
"Creating spells," she was saying in a wistful voice that grated on Severus's nerves. "Can you imagine? I mean it's one thing to practice magic; to bring under your command the various spells that others have created before you… but to be the one to create those spells? To call forth new magic for the first time, binding your will with words and the swish of a wand…" she trailed off, clearly overwhelmed.
Her words struck a chord inside of Severus, which only annoyed him more. She was speaking with a passion he understood all too well. Yes, it had been buried under more pressing concerns for the better part of two decades, but somehow he found that it still remained. Trust Granger to find the vulnerable places inside of him and poke at them until they bled. What was it about that girl?
"Yes," Filius was saying, his own voice full of pride. "Of course, your husband could teach you a thing or two about that." Severus choked. "As I understand it, he was writing his own spells as a sixth year here."
"What?" Granger gasped, spinning around in her seat to look at him. He shot a glare at Filius, trying to suppress his own emotional response as his neck grew uncomfortably hot.
"That's right," said the Charms professor. "He was another one who could have had his pick of apprenticeships. If only he would have turned in his assignments."
Granger turned big, shocked eyes onto him once more, gaping up at him in delighted surprise. "You… you, of all people… didn't turn in your homework?"
Filius chuckled at that. "Severus never did like to be told what to do." At that, the Charms professor hopped down off his chair and adjusted his trousers. "And speaking of homework, I've got some essays to grade. Enjoy the rest of your evening."
Granger bid her professor goodnight and turned back to her husband. "I cannot believe…" she began, but he cut her off, hiding his words behind his water goblet, his eyes peering across the room.
"Granger," he bit out in a warning tone, "you are acting entirely too cheerful."
She seemed confused for a moment, evidently having forgotten their detention together last night. But then her eyes went wide as she slouched back in her seat. "Well, how am I supposed to act, then?" she murmured. "I can't be sure as I've never been intimidated into silence before."
Severus coughed over a laugh. "No, I'm sure you haven't."
"Well, how's this, then?" she asked, keeping her face turned down to her plate and somehow seeming to shrink in her chair. He didn't miss the note of sarcasm in her voice.
"Not bad," he told her, suppressing a grin. He couldn't stop himself from adding "Perhaps you'll make a good wife, yet."
Granger made a sort of choking sound, hiding a smirk behind a sip of water. "I guess we'll find out tonight," she quipped and both of them froze. Severus didn't know how to respond. A glance at the girl told him that her face was turning red and beneath her furrowed brow he could see the beginnings of a nervous grin. Her breath began to catch on what he knew was suppressed laughter and that was the last thing they needed right now. Thinking fast, he reached out before she could lose control and caught her chin, his fingers biting into the smooth skin of her jaw as he turned her face up to his. Her eyes went wide and her lips popped open in surprise, a fact that he tried very hard not to find appealing.
"Are you finished?" he asked her, his voice ominous and deep, his eyes flickering to her empty plate on the table.
"Yes," she whispered in a breathless voice, all humor having fled.
"Then go." And at that he released her chin with a jerk of his hand and turned away from her. She paused only a moment before snatching up her bag and hurrying away. To her credit, she made a good show of trying to be brave and hiding how upset she was as she fled down the center of the room, clutching her bag to her chest, her face turned down. He watched her go with a satisfied smirk, his eyes glinting as, in his peripheral, the Slytherins pointed and snickered at his wife. It wasn't until she was out of view and he turned his attention back to his plate that he noticed Minerva watching him, clearly shocked and horrified.
…*~*J*~*...
After dinner, Severus found himself pacing in his lab. He couldn't quite bring himself to enter his bedroom yet. There weren't really any potions that needed brewing just now, but he could work on some extras, just to bide his time.
An hour passed before the door to his bedroom opened and the girl stuck her head into his lab. "Oh! There you are," she said, sounding surprised. She was waiting for him. Oh gods.
"I'm a bit busy," he growled, stirring the cauldron a little too vigorously.
"Yes, alright," she said, but she didn't close the door. Instead, she took a couple of steps into the room with him and leaned against the workbench. There was nothing lewd or suggestive about the way she leaned, but he found himself distracted by her presence anyway. And that distraction was only made worse when she began to speak. "It's Saturday…" she began awkwardly.
"Is it?"
"Yes."
They lapsed into silence. Severus tried to focus on grinding grasshopper legs, but all he could think was that now was his chance. He needed to tell her what he had found out. He needed to explain what he intended to do. Yet somehow, he couldn't seem to make the words come. She was standing so close and he could smell her shampoo. His mind wanted to think about how nice it had felt to hold her in his arms.
"How much longer will this take?" she asked him and his stomach jumped up into his throat. She was ready and willing and waiting. He could hardly bear it.
"Likely another hour or so," he told her, though that wasn't exactly true. He would be done with this batch in another ten minutes, but he didn't plan to stop there.
"Alright," she said, turning to go, "I think I'll have a bath, then." And with that she left him alone with nothing but the image of her bathing in his bathtub and only some simple brewing to distract him.
…*~*J*~*...
Hermione ran a hot, soapy bath. On impulse, she left the bathroom door open a crack. It was doubtful her husband would seize the opportunity, but she liked the idea of him knowing it was there. Slowly, sensually, she stripped out of her clothes. Already, she felt like her husband was watching. Her body pulsed with desire. She wanted nothing more than to feel his skin on her skin. At last. What had only been a week seemed to have taken a lifetime. The adjustments they'd had to make to their lives, already. The intimacy of sharing a bed and bathroom. The comfort of late night conversations with someone who was previously a stranger.
She stepped into the tub, sinking down into the hot suds with a sigh. She had been wanting to put this bathtub to use since she moved in. Of course, there were several things she'd been wanting to do since then. And finally the wait was over. He could only postpone so long. Hermione closed her eyes. Soon, they would be naked beneath the covers together; his lips on her lips; his… his body connecting with hers in pleasure, if not passion. She ached to please him; to see his shields fall down around him in the wake of ecstasy. She wanted to see the look in his eyes when their bodies connected for the very first time.
Hermione poured a little of her favorite warming body wash into her hands and lathered it into a froth before running her soapy hands all along the curves of her body. It felt so nice. She closed her eyes and pretended that her husband was the one whose hands were trailing along her skin. How could he not like how she felt? How could he not want to touch her? Her skin was soft and her slender figure had filled out in the last couple of years. She was no centerfold for a wizards' magazine, but she wasn't hideous either. Surely, he couldn't be that repulsed by her.
Hermione took her time drying off and dressing in her softest little shorts and a cotton shirt that was a little more snug than her usual sleepwear. Her hair was still piled on top of her head to keep it from getting wet in the bath, but she found that she liked the look of it that way. When she was all ready, she crawled into the bed with one of her books and arranged herself in what she hoped was an appealing way.
All that was left was to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
And pace the room.
And resist the urge to open the door and remind him what day it was. Again.
And take her hair down.
And decide she liked it better up.
And try over and over to replicate the look.
And give up and leave it down in a riot of frizzy curls.
And curl back up in bed, no longer concerned about how sexy she may or may not have looked.
And wait some more.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the door to the lab burst open and her husband appeared. She was tempted to cast a Tempus Charm, but she knew it had to be near midnight. He really had waited until the very last moment.
Snape cast her an anxious glance, his brow furrowed in what looked like a scowl. He strode to the other side of the room, taking his time unbuttoning his frock coat and hanging it in his armoire. He hesitated before removing his shirtsleeves, too. Hermione didn't budge from her place on the bed, but she did watch him over the top of her book. Her annoyance only grew as he sat in his chair and slowly undid the ties of his boots before carefully sliding them off. He never took such pains with undressing.
That done, her professor stood and faced her at last. He crossed hesitantly to the bed and looked down his nose at her, not quite meeting her eye. "I want you to know that I don't want this either," he said in a quiet voice, as if he were confessing a secret. "We wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for you…" he continued, his anger beginning to mount.
"Yes, fine," Hermione replied, coolly. At this point, she didn't even care. He had made sure to spurn her at every chance for the past week. She really should have expected this.
"Well, there's nothing for it…" he began again, taking a step toward the bed. Her eyes flickered over his bare torso in appreciation, but she tensed with nerves when he leaned a knee against the mattress. "You should… remove those," he said, gesturing to her shorts.
"What?"
"Did you want to keep them on?"
Hermione's cheeks burned, but she didn't argue. Shame poured into her as she slid off the soft garment and tossed it to the floor. Somehow, she felt even more exposed and vulnerable with her shirt still on. But then he was climbing onto the mattress and she held her breath, resisting only briefly when he kneed her legs apart. The cool dungeon air fell across her as she let her head fall back in humiliation. Merlin. He really was all business. She certainly hadn't imagined it happening this way.
His hands fumbled with the fly of his trousers, revealing button by button the pale skin and wiry black hair beneath, and she couldn't look away as he withdrew his cock. The sight of it, hard and swollen with pronounced veins and a dark pink tip, stirred the fire in her belly. Because it meant that as much as he tried to pretend otherwise, he wanted this. That had to be at least partially true.
He leaned over her, bracing his weight with one hand on the mattress, his black hair falling on either side of his face. She wanted, more than anything, for him to lean down and kiss her. Instead, he reached his other hand down to take hold of himself, awkwardly bending closer until she felt him between her legs. She flinched, surprised and ashamed by the sudden contact, but he took no notice. He was too busy pushing the head of his cock back and forth between her folds.
Oh gods! She was so wet. Severus had never been this aroused. The fact that she was wet must have meant she wanted this too. And Merlin, she looked so good beneath him, her hair spread out on his pillow, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glazed, her nipples hard beneath her snug white tee shirt, her perfect thighs spread just for him. He pushed part of the way inside of her, dismayed to feel the barrier of her virginity. He had known she was a virgin, but he hadn't ever been with a virgin before and he wasn't entirely sure how to proceed.
"This is going to hurt," her professor told her in a voice rough with arousal, "but only briefly." And then he was pushing against her and pain blossomed between her legs. She tensed up, wanting to pull away, wanting to tell him to wait, but biting her lip and being brave. "It will be easier if you relax," he told her, his voice impatient. She wanted to scowl at him, but instead she tried to do as he said.
Severus had to rock back and forth a bit, pulling out and pushing back into her in what he hoped were gentle movements. He tried not to enjoy that too much. After all, it would all end once he'd completed his task. But it felt so good and she was so wet and every instinct he had was screaming to fuck her into the mattress.
Finally, when she seemed to relax, he pushed all the way inside of her with one good thrust. Granger made a soft sound in the back of her throat, squeezing her eyes closed in pain. Fuck, she was so tight. She felt so good. He didn't want to stop. Gods, and he had never told her he was planning to stop. He could just keep going and she would never know the difference. His cock throbbed at the thought. He wanted to fuck her slowly, to stare down into her dazed face and watch her reactions as he rocked against her. He wanted her to make that little sound again. Hell, he wanted to make her cry out in ecstasy. And she wanted that, too. He knew she did. He could tell by the way her lips were parted and her eyes were glazed. She wanted him to fuck her. Fuck!
Hermione's heart was pounding in her chest. It was happening. It was actually happening. Her professor's cock was inside of her right now. They were having sex. The pain had been like nothing she could have anticipated, but another sensation was taking its place. She could feel him inside of her, so big and eager. She wanted to move against him, to please him, to feel his skin closer against her skin. She wanted to lose herself in passion with her professor. She wanted him to fuck her.
Severus pulled out of her, panting, relishing the way her brows furrowed and her mouth popped open at the sensation. It took every ounce of his willpower not to thrust right back in. But then he remembered what Minerva had said and for the first time he realized she might be right. He couldn't let Granger fall for him. She was young and naive and didn't know the whole truth. And besides, this was just business. So he stopped himself.
For a moment, she just watched him, her face flushed, waiting for and wanting him to continue, but as the seconds ticked by her eyes began to clear and she blinked up at him as he pulled away.
"Was that it?" she asked.
"All that was necessary."
"What?"
Severus couldn't meet her eye. "The Law only requires… penetration," he murmured.
"What?!"
Severus flinched back. He couldn't bear to look at her another minute. Yanking up his trousers, he held them together with one hand as he pulled away from her. Shame and desire were warring with each other in his mind. He retreated; out of the bed and straight to the bathroom, where he locked himself away. For a moment, he just stood there, panting and clenching his eyes shut in humiliation. Then he turned on the shower and ripped off his clothes, stepping beneath the hot torrent and taking himself in hand. He could still picture her face, could still feel her soft thighs… how wet she'd been. He lathered his hand up with the soap that smelled like her and pictured those cinnamon eyes clouded over with arousal and the way her sweet cunt felt wrapped around his cock. He pictured the alternative; imagined what it would have been like to fuck her right then and there, seeking nothing but his own completion. She didn't know the difference. She would have accepted that without complaint.
Severus came in a series of harsh, nearly painful spasms; his hot seed spilling across his hand. And then, as his mind cleared, the hot torrent of the shower filled his perception until he hated himself again. He clenched his eyes in an attempt not to think about what he had just done, but he couldn't escape his own reality. Not now. His wife was waiting in the other room. He couldn't avoid her forever. Sinking down to the floor of the shower, Severus let the hot water wash over him, as harsh and unforgiving as his shame.
Hermione stared at the ceiling, Her legs were spread, pain throbbing between them. She focused on the way the shadows from the fire played with the arches in the stone. There was a ringing in her ears. Somehow, in all her visions about what this night might entail, she had never imagined it going so wrong. How could he? Did he have no concept of her own humiliation? Did he hate her so much that he would wish this upon her?
Distantly, she heard the shower squeak to a halt and turned onto her side to face away from her husband. Any minute now, he would emerge, and she couldn't deal with that. Not now. She couldn't face him. What he had done… what he hadn't… it left a hollow in her chest that somehow made her feel weak and small. Somehow, she was, once again, the little girl with magically enlarged teeth, standing in a hallway, being taunted by everyone, including her professor.
She should have known.
Tears rolled down her cheek even as the door to the bathroom opened and her husband hesitated on the threshold of the room. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, knowing that he couldn't possibly think her asleep, but needing him to pretend along with her that she was. She couldn't be here with him right now. But she couldn't be anywhere else, either. So she closed her eyes and wished herself to sleep; wished herself elsewhere.
And as his weight tilted the mattress, her stiff, half-naked form refused to budge. The lights went out. The room grew quiet and heavy with all that had transpired. And the weight of it settled over them both. She heard the tink of a bottle being set on the bedside table and knew he had made his own escape. But for her, the waiting had only begun. The torture would ensue for hours to come until finally, mercifully, she welcomed the oblivion of sleep.
…*~*J*~*...
Let me know what you think ;)
:} llorolalluvia