"Miss Granger?"
She was halfway up the stairs when he spotted her, caught off guard by her presence. What was she doing back at Hogwarts? She wasn't supposed to return for another three days.
"Miss Granger," he repeated, recovering his wits somewhat. "We weren't expecting to see you so soon."
"Change of plans."
Why hadn't she turned around? She just stood there, one hand on the banister, her tone chilly. Cold? No, that wasn't it. Her voice was flat, emotionless, like she was putting a great deal of effort into maintaining her composure. Severus frowned, ascending a couple steps.
He called her name again, more softly this time. After a moment, she looked back over her shoulder, sniffling as she did so.
He'd already concluded that she was upset, but he certainly didn't expect it to affect him the way it did. One look at her tear stained face and he forgot his reservations, the need to keep his distance along with all the reasons why he should. Instead, he moved closer, so close he could see tiny drops of moisture clinging to her lashes.
"Are you all right?"
"Do I look all right?"
He shook his head. "Stupid question on my part."
"No," she said, "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to be rude, I just…"
"Bad night?"
"Bad couple of weeks, actually."
"Care to elaborate?"
"I'm not sure…"
She trailed off, glancing at the floor above them. After a moment, he heard it too, the distinct sound of footsteps headed in their direction.
"Come to my office."
Part of him expected her to refuse. Instead, she followed, strangely silent as they descended several flights of stairs. Soon enough, they made it to the dungeons, the office door closing behind them with a soft click.
"Tea?" he offered as she sat down.
"Can I have something stronger?"
Her eyes were fixed on the bottle of Firewhiskey, which had remained untouched since his overindulgence on Christmas Eve. The truths it had forced him to acknowledge, his inibility to suppress his emotions…
"I'd rather not."
"Why?"
"Giving alcohol to a student would be highly inappropriate."
"I'm not just a student," she said. "I'm an adult."
"I'm well aware of that. However…"
She rose from her chair, muttering something under her breath as she headed for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"Hogsmeade."
"Hogsmeade?" he repeated. "Why would you…"
"Because I want a drink. I'm tired of people telling me what I should or shouldn't do, saying I should act this way or that, or…"
"Miss Granger…" He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sit down."
Rebellious mood or not, she obeyed his command. Dropping back into her chair, she lowered her eyes, followed by a loud sniffle.
"One drink," he told her, grabbing the Firewhiskey before he conjured a couple glasses. He slid one across the desk, watching in consternation as she took several large swallows.
"Professor Snape?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it," he said. "Seriously, don't mention it to anyone."
"I wouldn't."
Of course she wouldn't. If there was one thing he'd learned over the past few months, it was that she could be trusted to keep her mouth shut. Could she trust him in return? That was the real question.
"So," he said, lifting the glass to his lips. "What happened?"
"You don't want to know."
"If I didn't want to know, I wouldn't have asked."
"I…" She shook her head, letting out a heavy sigh. "I broke up with Ron."
He wasn't prepared for those words, even less so for his reaction. A thrill shot through him, so sharp and intense it knocked the breath from his lungs. Somehow, he maintained his composure, lifting an eyebrow as he sipped at his drink.
"Oh? And what did Mr. Weasley do to precipitate such a reaction?"
"Nothing, really," she said. "He just wants me to be someone I'm not."
"A Weasley?"
"Exactly."
"Yes, well, that's hardly surprising. That family has always been…"
"He wanted me to get married this summer!" she interrupted. "Not only that, but to start having babies, too! He didn't even want me to come back to Hogwarts this year, did you know that? He tried his hardest to talk me out of it, then sulked about it for days!"
Severus hesitated, struggling to find a response that wasn't nasty. Fortunately, she saved him the trouble, only pausing to take another drink before she continued with her rant.
"He doesn't care. Really, he doesn't give a damn about who I am or what I want, what would make me happy. I told him I wanted to go to university and get a job before I got married, and you know what he said?"
"Something deplorable, no doubt."
"He said that all I ever think about is myself."
Severus forced himself to take several deep breaths, finishing the rest of his drink. Both of those things were intended to calm him down, though neither did much good. Not when dozens of memories flashed through his mind, reminding him how unselfish she'd always been. The way she'd returned to the Shrieking Shack when no one else had bothered, bringing him flowers at St. Mungo's when she certainly wasn't obligated to do so. Sitting at his bedside day after day, responding to all his years of nastiness with patience and compassion…
Of course, those were only his memories. He only became more infuriated as he thought about what she'd done for Weasley and Potter, overextending herself time and again for the sake of those two bumbling idiots. Honestly, who did Weasley think had gotten them through the war? Both of them… all three if he included himself… they'd be dead if not for her.
"You aren't the least bit selfish," he said. "Don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise, especially a moron like Weasley. That boy is and always has been a spoiled brat."
"He's not the only one who feels that way."
"Of course not. Heaven forbid the Weasleys learn how to stay out of each other's business."
"That's why I came back early. Ron freezing me out was one thing, but Molly and Ginny? They wouldn't even speak to me."
"Indeed? Well, both of them can sod off. So can the entire family, for that matter."
"I wouldn't say that. I mean, I still care about them…"
"But you're not one of them," he pointed out. "That's why they've chosen to punish you, not because you've done anything wrong."
"You're right."
"Yes," he said, "and so were you. Don't let them fool you into believing otherwise."
She nodded. "Breaking up with Ron wasn't easy, but it was the best thing I could've done for myself. I know it sounds awful, butI feel so… relieved."
"So do I."
"You feel relieved?"
He didn't know where the words had come from, but it was too late to take them back. Taking another sip of Firewhiskey, he searched for a response that wouldn't be too revealing.
"I do," he said, his voice casual. "It would've been a shame to see you waste your potential, which is exactly what would've happened if you'd shackled yourself to Weasley. A brilliant mind like yours…"
"You think I'm brilliant?"
He rolled his eyes, though not before he glimpsed something vulnerable in her expression. What had Weasley said to make her feel so insecure? He started to ask, only to decide that he'd be better off if he didn't know.
"Yes," he said instead. "Quite exceptional, really."
"You never seemed to think so when I was younger."
He snorted. "What I believed and what I chose to express were two different things. In any case, you were perfectly capable of padding your ego without any assistance from me."
"My ego? Was I really that bad?"
"That's a matter of perspective, I suppose. Compared to Gilderoy Lockhart? You were relatively modest."
"Gilderoy Lockh… that's awful!"
To his relief, she wasn't offended. She knew he was teasing her, her eyes dancing with amusement as she took another drink.
"How about now?" she said. "Would you say I've improved?"
He studied her more closely, wondering yet again when she'd become so beautiful. Those eyes… stunning, long lashed brown eyes, reflecting warmth, wit, and humor, not to mention one of the sharpest intellects he'd ever encountered. Her cheeks were flushed, soft brown curls tumbling over her shoulders… when had she taken her coat off? He hadn't even noticed, which seemed insane as he focused on her jumper. The way it clung to her body, accentuating her curves…
He couldn't say anything snarky. Not now. Instead, he nodded, his eyes drifting back up to her face.
"Yes, you've improved. In more ways than I can count."
She blushed, which only served to make her more attractive. "Aren't you worried about my ego?"
"At the moment? I'm not worried about anything at all."
It was true. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so at ease, mesmerized by her lips as they curved into a smile.
"You know," she said, "you've improved, too."
"Have I?"
"Yes."
He leaned forward, his eyes meeting hers. "How so?"
"Well," Hermione said, "you're not nasty anymore. I mean, you can still be a snarky git, but I don't mind that. I kind of like it, actually."
Snape nodded. "Go on."
"The way you treat me now… you listen to me, take me seriously. It's nice."
"I'm glad you think so."
"It isn't just that, though."
"No?"
"No," she said. "It's who you are. Everything you did for the war, for Harry…"
A shadow flitted across his face. "I'd rather not discuss it."
"I know. All I'm trying to say is I admire you. Your intelligence, your courage and determination… I don't imagine anyone else could have done what you did."
Snape opened his mouth and then closed it again, clearly at a loss. He was obviously uncomfortable with that level of praise, yet at the same time, she could see that he hungered for it. There was a strange look in his eyes, gratitude underscored by a hint of anguish. She couldn't put a name to it, really, but she recognized it for what it was.
"Anyway, I like who you are. That's my point. I'm not sure how it happened, but you've become my favorite…"
"Your favorite professor?" he said, reminding her of a comment she'd made before winter break.
"Not just that. My favorite person."
His eyebrows shot upward, his eyes widening as he leaned back in his chair. Had she gone too far? Maybe so, but she was tired of denying her feelings, finding ways to justify them or pretending like they didn't exist. She'd been doing that for months, and all for what? So she could force herself to stay in a relationship she didn't want to be in?
She'd made herself miserable. Not just over winter break, but for the better part of a year. Hiding her feelings, lying to herself… what was the point?
"What…" Snape hesitated, clearing his throat. "What do you mean by that?"
Of course, telling the truth wasn't any easier. She had no idea how to articulate her feelings, nor whether or not she should try. That conversation they'd had right before she'd left for winter break…
"You said it was stupid."
"Pardon?"
"That day… you know, here in your office when we…"
"When I kissed you?" he said, his voice so soft it sent a shiver up her spine.
She nodded. "You said…"
"And you said you regretted it."
"I was lying."
He shrugged. "So was I."
"So if I wanted you to do it again…"
She trailed off, half expecting him to refuse. Before she could tell him to forget it, however, he rose from his desk, walking toward her with slow, deliberate steps.
"If you what?" he said, their faces inches apart as he leaned over her chair.
"If I wanted you to do it again…"
She trailed off, gasping as his mouth covered hers. This kiss was different from the first, far more intense, her body flush against his as he lifted her to her feet. She kissed him back with equal fervor, far more intoxicated by him than all the Firewhiskey she'd consumed.
This was what it was supposed to feel like. No doubts, no questions, not even a shred of reluctance. All she wanted… all she needed…
"More," she murmured against his mouth.
He groaned, a low, animalistic sound that made her heart flutter as his hands slid down her back, pressing her against a part of him she'd never expected to feel. Breaking away from her mouth, he planted kisses up the side of her neck, making her shiver as his warm breath tickled her ear.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered.
"No."
With that, she lifted her jumper over her head, unbuttoning her jeans and kicking those off as well. She leaned back against the desk, eyes fixed on his as she reached back to unfasten her bra.
This was a terrible idea.
Severus knew that, though he couldn't seem to remember why as he looked at Hermione. She was lying across his desk, clad in nothing but her underwear. Such soft, silky skin, those perfectly rounded breasts… did she have any idea how beautiful she was?
He leaned over to kiss her again, unable to stop himself, hands skimming over her body as he tasted her mouth. Warm and sweet, underscored by a slight tang of Firewhiskey…
That last flavor brought him back to his senses somewhat, reminding him that they'd both been drinking. Of course, he was nowhere near drunk, and she'd had less than him, but still…
Still, he needed to take it slow. That would give her plenty of time to change her mind, time for him to remember why he should stop. As it was, he had yet to think of a reason, slipping off his coat and tossing it aside. Just the coat… only because it was hot… it didn't mean…
He only wanted to kiss her neck one more time, trace her ear with the tip of his tongue. That delicious shiver… he couldn't help moving lower, irresistibly drawn to a pert pink nipple. He drew it into his mouth, sucking it gently as she let out a moan.
Naturally, he couldn't stop at one breast. He gave both his full attention, using his hands and mouth to elicit a response. Whatever she seemed to like? He doubled his efforts, gratified by her soft sounds of pleasure.
Yes, he'd put an end to it soon. Just a few kisses across her stomach, one hand sliding up her thigh… try though he might, he couldn't think of a single reason why he shouldn't kiss her there, his mind going hazy as she gasped in response. Higher, higher…
It was the one place he shouldn't go. He knew that, and yet she was breathing faster now, obviously wanting him to proceed. He could feel her heat through the fabric of her underwear, his hand seeming to move of its own volition as he stroked her with the tips of his fingers.
"Please…"
Right or wrong, he couldn't refuse her. Not when she was begging him to continue, her dark eyes smoldering with need. He slid his fingers under her waistband, drawing her underwear down over her legs and tossing them aside.
Stop? There was nothing stopping him now. It took all the restraint he had to leave his clothing intact, fingers slipping inside her as she whimpered in encouragement. He moved them in a slow, gentle rhythm, then harder and faster in response to her wordless cues.
Whatever he was doing, it was clearly working. Her moans were constant now, her voice trembling with urgency. In response, he increased the speed and friction, his body aching with need as hers began to shudder.
"Professor Sna…"
He shook his head, bringing his lips to her ear. "Severus."
With that, she fell apart, quivering from head to toe as she whispered his name. He'd never imagined anything could be so erotic, all the more so as she pulled him down for a deep, passionate kiss.
Stop? He forgot what that word meant as she looked up at him with those big brown eyes, her hair hopelessly tousled, thighs parting in an unmistakable invitation. He couldn't resist her any more than he could cease to breathe on command, his hands shaking as he unbuttoned his trousers.
"Severus?"
Who the bloody hell… he whipped his head around, breath catching in his throat as he stared at the door.
"Severus!" the voice called again, so muffled he didn't recognize the speaker. "I know you're in there!"
"Get dressed," he hissed at Hermione, struggling with his buttons before he reached for his coat. She did as she was told, though it hardly made any difference. Tangled hair, lips still swollen from his kisses… even a fool would know what they'd been up to, hidden away in his office in the dead of night. It didn't help that she wasn't even supposed to be back at school – for all he knew, his visitor would assume she'd deliberately snuck in to have a tryst with him.
"In here," he said, opening the door to his quarters. "Don't come out until I say so."
She nodded, ducking into his sitting room. He made a couple more adjustments to his appearance, taking a deep breath as he opened the office door.