by Ezzie
Warning: This is definitely R -> NC-17. It's not squicky. Just explicit.
Plot Warning: You will want to read "Just A Kiss" first, for greater effect.
Hermione had been studying the Potions master for well over three years now: ever since she saw him cry at the funeral of a friend. It was after the defeat of Voldemort and everyone had been invited to the mourning ceremony and later the wake. He had tried to hide the tears as they fell, but Hermione had noticed them when she glanced briefly to where he was sitting. There was no mistaking the trail left behind by tears that had momentarily streaked down his sallow skin. When he had caught her staring, he wiped them away, gave her a look that had made her heart nearly stop and then returned his attention to the words of eulogy being given.
But since that day she had been unable to forget the raw emotion that had crossed his face and he had become a new creature in Hermione's mind. He no longer fell under the uncaring bastard category. He had earned his way into sensitive dark tortured soul; a category to which she had also placed Draco Malfoy and even Harry Potter on his worst days. There was a sort of romantic attraction about that type of man. One who would face the impossible, brave the unpredictable and then carry on with life as if nothing happened. That is until he was so overcome with emotion that he could no longer bury it under a pile of harsh words or angry stares. And that was how Hermione liked Severus Snape - overcome with emotion, vulnerable and unsure of himself or the situation at hand.
Just how he had become an object of desire in her mind, she still couldn't comprehend. She had endured another year of Advanced Potions after the funeral incident and he had been more callous than ever before. Perhaps it was payback for seeing him cry. His insults were more pointed and his criticism of her near perfect work was more frequent. He couldn't stand her, and she knew as much. But somehow, after seeing him at the funeral, Hermione had rationalized that he had reasons to be so rude to her. The cruelty had turned into fodder for her constant psychological profiling.
Then she graduated. He had, to her surprise, given her high marks and ranked her at the top of her class in Potions; but she suspected Professor Dumbledore's hand behind Snape's honesty. The lust for him had begun when she had started working with Minerva during her free time. Alone with other adults Severus Snape was a different man. Surely he was still quiet and introverted, but he was relaxed. He never eyed the other teachers with deathly stares and there was never any indication he was waiting for a lazy student to blow up the room he was sitting in.
But oh how angry he was when he would catch her staring. Sometimes, completely exhausted from hours of study at the University and then several more hours of work at Hogwarts, she would carelessly sit at the staff table and let her eyes fall on his form. Two, five, ten minutes would pass before Minerva would discreetly prod her under the table. When she would come to her senses, Hermione would see the death stares coming from Snape.
During those two years of infrequent visits to her Alma Mater he had managed to avoid being alone with her or having a conversation with her. That is until tonight when had come into the library to return a book. In her nervousness she had jumped away from his hand. It was the closest she had been to him in two years. The fantasies that ran through her mind during the day and prevented her from sleeping at night flashed before her eyes as the book, cradled in his long fingers swept past her waist and onto the shelf. Hermione's heart had jumped from her chest up into her throat. She gasped, she swooned and then she fell. Right into his arms. And then it had happened.
The first moments were full of fear. She had proceeded gently waiting for him to refuse her, but the rejection had never come. They had moved intimately close to one another and for several brief moments of universal bliss she had been in his arms. That is until something, or someone- human or otherwise - had interrupted them. She was convinced it was Peeves. But that hardly mattered as she saw him stumble to sit down. She had brought him to the brink of his emotional capacity. For the second time in her entire life, Hermione noticed Snape was completely removed from himself. She had done that to him! It had felt so good, and she wanted to continue. But how? What would inspire Severus Snape to give in to this?
He had stood from the tiny wooden chair in which he had taken refuge and collected himself. The look of hate had returned to his eyes, but Hermione had gone too far. She wasn't about to turn back and she knew her only weapon was to keep Snape off his normal path of emotional solitude. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.
"Shall we find somewhere more private then?"
A challenge. Where had the words come from? She didn't know. But the look on his face indicated that she had achieved her goal. He looked lost again and completely under her control.
Flabbergasted. Was there any other word for how he felt right now? Stupified? Afraid? Horny. Oh god, he had to push that out of his mind. She didn't really want this. Neither did he. But in any case, the library was no place to discuss what had just happened. Even in his eagerness to remove himself from her presence, he realized that much. Whatever had disrupted his moment of romantic lust - no, just lust, he decided - was still here. No use in embarrassing the girl or himself when he apologized.
He didn't trust his voice. He wasn't sure what had happened to it, but he could feel something stuck in his throat. Perhaps he was still having trouble breathing but he couldn't diagnose what was going on inside of him at the moment. He simply nodded curtly at her and used his head to motion towards the entrance of the library. She nodded in compliance, picked up her worn leather satchel from a nearby table and followed him.
Where was he going? He realized he hadn't thought of that, although they were headed generally in the direction of the dungeons. She was keeping pace with him. God, her legs were so long. He forced himself to stop thinking about it. Return to the matter at hand, Snape, he thought to himself. Would the Potions classroom or his office be suitable? Neither, he decided. Both were reminders she had once been his student and he was already feeling awful enough about this. No use in remembering her as a child. That only left one place: the dangerous confines of his own private quarters. He sped up his pace, and she was now nearly running beside him. When they came to the fork in the hallway that led to the dungeons he took a left, leading to his rooms. She had missed a beat and nearly headed towards the Potions classroom. Maybe that hadn't been such an bad idea after all, but it was too late now.
They arrived at his door, pulled out his wand and removed the secret spells that protected his private things. Snape opened the door, allowed her to walk in and then closed it behind them. Should he lock it? Would she be offended or feel trapped? Why risk it? He left he door unlocked.
She walked around, almost too eagerly, and began to study the book titles on his shelves. One of her hands came up and self-consciously pulled hair out of her eyes. It was still covered in a light film of dirt from mucking about in the library. Her form was splendid in the candle lit room. Her dark robes suited her well and he could see the curves about her waist and then her shoulders. He didn't know how long he had been staring while he let his mind rove, but he soon realized she was looking back at him. He took a deep breath to mentally shake himself free of her image.
"I would like to offer my apologies, Ms. Granger," he spoke. His voice cracked slightly before it recovered to deliver the words in his usual silky tone. Her eyebrows rose at his statement.
"Apologies? For?"
Why was she being daft? She had to know what it was he was referring to. The kiss. The kiss that still lingered on his lips; and although the smell of her saliva was now gone, it was still resident in his skin. The thought made his head spin again. He wanted to sit down, and thank god he had robes on that went below the waist.
"For what just transpired in the library. It was inappropriate of me to kiss you."
Snape thought he would die when he admitted out loud that their lips had touched. His heart was racing and he felt like he had drank a fifth of Ogden's Firewhiskey. And then her eyebrows rose again. She looked completely shocked.
"I was under the impression that I kissed you, Professor. So you've nothing to apologize for."
What? Snape muttered in his mind. She kissed me? She wanted that? And then he noticed a smile cross her face. It wasn't entirely an innocent smile either. She was enjoying seeing him in this state. The twinkle in her eyes screamed mischief. And suddenly Snape's doubts about her feelings turned into rage. His previous assumption she didn't want this was wrong. But he knew - or thought - he didn't want this. Oh god. Now she was in his rooms.
How to get rid of her? Surely she didn't mean what she said, and didn't mean what she was implying. Perhaps asking her to leave would work. No, she was too determined. After all she had gotten here hadn't she? Play along then. Push her to the point where she can realize she doesn't mean it and then she'll leave on her own. He was glad he hadn't locked the door - all to better escape through, my dear.
Hermione's heart raced when she realized that Snape thought he had kissed her. It meant she had broken through his barriers and that he wanted her. But now he was looking furious; perhaps it was the smile she couldn't help giving him. His brow furrowed and several candles went out in the room. He had never uttered a word. How had he done that? Something in Hermione's stomach turned. Was it nerves or lust? Now she couldn't tell.
And now he was walking towards her, taking slow steps. Hermione swallowed hard and took a deep breath as he drew near her. She was just a foot from a wall of books and practically trapped. He stopped when he was within her personal space and he simply stared down at her. Was this at all like the stare she had given him at the staff table? Was this revenge? Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might fail from being overtaxed. Nervous. She was definitely nervous. Maybe she had been wrong all along about what type of man he was. Maybe he wasn't soft on the inside. Perhaps he was cruel and maybe this wasn't what she wanted.
And damn her hair for falling into her face. Hermione reached up and tucked the defiant lock behind her ear. Snape grabbed her hand suddenly, making her jump, and held it tightly above her head against the books. She gasped as he leaned down just inches from her face. He looked deep into her eyes and she saw what it was that turned her stomach like this. The blackness of his pupils; they were like never ending tunnels. For a fleeting moment she wanted to be sick. She could feel his breath, and then she tasted his lips.
The second kiss was no different than the first in terms of its intensity. He was attempting to dominate the situation, yet he didn't press against her hard. His lips were supple and forgiving. She could feel the dryness that their previous kiss had left on the skin surrounding his lips, but it didn't stay that way for long. Opening and closing their mouths simultaneously they continued on this way for several moments. If she was ever going to recover from this fear she knew she had to move quickly. It was clear he was using this as a tactic to scare her away. Why else the fancy trick with the candles and the pseudo dominance game? Hermione's free hand moved around Snape's waist and she used it to pull his body completely into her. She could feel his erection and it was proof that however much he might be trying to scare her, he wanted this.
The death grip above her head released as he used both hands to slide down the sides of her body. Then he rested both of them on the underside of her ass cheeks, pulling them slightly apart. She gasped. Inside, she was slightly afraid of what he could do at this moment. He was lust hungry, she could tell, and he was trying to use it to put her off. But the taste of his lips and the feel of his body against hers was not going to let her out of this situation. She wanted it too badly and she had gotten this far hadn't she? He suddenly stopped kissing her and pulled back slightly. He then leaned over into her ear and whispered, "Is this how you pictured it Ms. Granger?"
Snape was convinced his plan was working. He ground his hips subconsciously into her while he waited for her answer. He told himself it must be adding to her thoughts that he was a sex-crazed fiend and something to avoid. Which, at this point, he had to admit to himself he was. Just get her out of the room and finish this on your own. No need to make this mistake, he told himself. So he had stopped the kiss to give her time to get out of this situation. She was panting. Good, he thought, she is afraid. However, it didn't help him at all that the hot air coming from her trembling lips was rushing across his ears and making his pants feel even tighter. She seemed to be thinking and then he felt her take a deep breath. She pressed her cheek against his and spoke.
"Yes, it is. Only you were wearing less clothes."
He felt his body stiffen uncontrollably and his hands grip her ass more tightly. She gasped again at his roughness and her hips thrust against his even harder. That was not the answer he was expecting and he didn't know what to say. He could feel her eyelashes against his face batting quickly. She was clearly nervous at the prospect of the words she had just spoken. There was hope, he felt, that all was not lost and that they could both still recover from this situation without falling deeper into the pit of desire. Snape released his hands from her and pulled away slightly. Hermione left her arms around him, seemingly determined to continue on with this game.
He reached behind his waist, gathered her hands in his and guided them up to the first buttons on his robes. Snape wasn't sure what he was doing now, discouraging her or helping her. The look of shock on her face was confusing. Was she excited because she thought he was going to go through with it, or was she scared to death? Regardless, her hands just sat there on his chest after he let go. She wasn't attempting to undo the buttons or tear his robes open. Ah good, he thought, she is beginning to realize she should stop.
"Well Ms. Granger? I believe this is your fantasy. Are you going to get on with it?"
His words were intentionally harsh. He wanted her to hate him, to back off, to flee in fear. Then he could blame himself for what happened, and not her. And he wished to god she would leave now. This pressure in his groin was turning into pain and he needed to fix that problem.
She had spoken the words, again not knowing where they came from. And for the third time in the night she had taken control of the situation, put him on guard and seen - rather felt - how insecure and unsure he was. Hermione was convinced he wanted her. What else could explain the way he held her, touched her, and kissed her. And now he was going to take her up on this fantasy, daring her to undress him. But that's what he wanted, what he was expecting. Why let him have his way so easily? Why give in?
With shaking hands she unbuttoned the top of his robes. There were only a few more complicated buttons to go. Each one seemed to take so unbearably long to pull from the loop that they were threaded through. She could feel Snape staring at her. His stare bore into her forehead and she couldn't dare think of looking up. His chest was rising and falling quickly beneath her fingers. And then finally the last button was undone. She slipped her hands underneath his robe, over his shoulders and then slipped it off of him. It fell into a heap of blackness at his feet.
And just as her subconscious began celebrating at this accomplishment she realized she was nowhere near his naked chest. He had on a thick black overcoat and some sort of white collared shirt underneath. She quickly went to the buttons on the overcoat and undid them. All the while she could feel his stare. He wasn't helping her at all. Gods, there must be thirty buttons on the garment. Hermione was losing her will, quickly as she fumbled. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She was afraid she was losing her nerve. Even her arms were tired from reaching up to undo the buttons. Finally when they were all undone she pushed her hands underneath the thick fabric, up to his shoulders again and pushed the cloth back. But it hung. Crap. What did she forget?
Snape cleared his throat and held up his arms. There were five tiny buttons at the cuffs. She looked up at him and saw a playful smirk, and then he undid the buttons himself. He was helping now? Okay, yes this was much better, Hermione decided. He let the thick fabric fall to the floor at his feet the way his robe had. And now she was left only with a soft, thin white button-up shirt. It clung to him so beautifully, showing off his broad chest. It was light enough that she could see the outline of his pectoral muscles. In a single move of impatience she put her hands on his waist and yanked up on the shirt. It felt like a combination of fine linen and silk.
Brief thoughts of Muggle movies where women wore men's shirts as semi-feminine lingerie flowed through her mind. It was now a secondary goal to take this shirt with her when this was all done. Hermione figured she could sleep every night in it for the rest of her life and be the happiest woman alive. But Snape seemed to flinch when she pulled hard on the soft fabric. Only the sides had been freed from his pants, and a thick voice interrupted her train of thought.
"Careful."
It wasn't an admonishment, more like careful guidance. It must be expensive. He then pulled his shirt out the rest of the way for her. But now what? She was millimeters away from Snape's bare chest and he was expecting her to unbutton it. He was almost daring her to by pushing her to the point where she had no choice. He had made her admit the fantasy to him. He was in full control again and that's not what she wanted. If she were going to have Snape, she would have him her way. And in this case, that meant to take him completely by surprise.
Snape was enjoying watching the girl shake before him. He knew she would never make it all the way to undressing him. It had taken her five minutes to get through his robe, his overcoat and then to pull the sensuously fine shirt out of his pants to begin unbuttoning it. And now she was just standing there staring at the gleam of the white silk in the candlelight. He knew what she was thinking - "This is wrong. I should stop." He was just waiting for her to say it. But she never did.
Before he knew what was happening, he felt her cold fingers on bare skin underneath his shirt. She had snuck her hands up around his waist and walked in close to him all the while running her fingers up his back. Her touch was so gentle and so foreign that he felt his breath shudder in his chest. She came as close as she could so she could reach all the way up his back, and when she had done so she then softly caressed the area between his shoulder blades, down his spine and around to his chest. Her lips opened slightly as she palmed his pectoral muscles and then ran both hands down his abs. Hermione's face seemed to brighten as she felt the old, but well maintained muscles beneath the skin. And it was only then that he realized this was encouraging her and that he didn't want her to stop.
Her hands slid further down to his bellybutton and then stopped. She looked up into his eyes and he knew he had betrayed his emotions to her at that moment. He was breathing heavily and he couldn't have made one of his infamous sneers to save his life. Her eyes were so beautiful. He couldn't stop staring into them. She had a slight smile on her face and her eyebrows raised as he felt her finger slide just below the waistline of his pants. Was she asking permission? She pretended to fumble slightly, hoping to get a reaction. The only one he could give was to reach up and begin unbuttoning his shirt. Her smile grew and she now used both hands to undo the buttons on the front of his pants.
Hermione was elated. Snape was now shaking under her touch, undoing the last bits of clothing that separated her from his bare chest. And she had surprised him, again. The game was almost too much fun but she knew it would quickly escalate. Once he was naked, there was no turning back. Strategy would no longer be necessary and they would dive into the more intimate throws of passion. There would be no doubt that either of them wanted this.
When the last button on his pants was undone, Hermione timidly reached up and put her fingers underneath the waist of his pants to pull them down.
Snape's hands shot down and grabbed her wrists. She raised her head and stared into his eyes. He had completely undone all the buttons on his white shirt and his chest stood exposed before her now. For some reason she couldn't explain, her mouth began to water.
"Ms. Granger. For what it's worth, I will not be offended if you wish to stop."
Had he felt her apprehension? Maybe he had felt it all along. Maybe this isn't what she wanted? Of course it was! This is what she had been dreaming of for years. Here he was in her control. And god, his chest was right in front of her. Her eyes left his face and stared at the light dusting of black hair. She wanted so badly to touch it, but he still had her hands. She had only one option.
Hermione leaned forward and brushed her lips against his sternum. The skin was so smooth and soft that she wondered if they would even get farther in this interlude. A woman could spend an entire day adoring this area of flesh. Snape's chest rose quickly under her touch and it was obvious he was enjoying this as much as she was. His grip loosened and when she made the move to pull her arms free, he didn't stop her. While continuing to kiss his chest, Hermione's hands came up under the shirt to his shoulders and pulled it off his body.
"Ms. Granger."
She heard him, but didn't respond. She was too busy taking in the pale skin with her eyes. The perfectly sculpted chest with just a slight hint of definition in his abdominal area, the tiny scar above his left nipple where it looked like he'd been cut by a knife, a mole on his left side right about where his appendix would be, and a freckle above his bellybutton. His nipples were a soft brown. Were they as sensitive as hers? Would he be offended if she outright touched them? Hermione decided that it would be best to approach that issue indirectly: she ran her palms over them, eliciting a quick inhale on his part. Yes, they must be sensitive. From there she ran her palms over his shoulders, remarking the beauty of the definition his collarbone made.
"Ms. Granger?"
Yes, she heard the voice again and paid no attention. She was in heaven, in a trance, in another dimension. This almost didn't seem real. Her hands moved down his arms, to his elbows. She had fantasized so often about how beautifully sculpted his muscles must be, and she was not disappointed. She could feel where the muscle attached to the bones and their heavy definition beneath the lean skin. She pulled back slightly to get a better look, her eyes briefly glancing down at the open pants she had abandoned suddenly. A sense of loss overcame her. There was too much to discover and she felt helpless at the fact she couldn't do it all at once. Her eyes then followed her touched from his elbows to the top of his hands and then she flipped them over and saw It.
It. It had never been there in her fantasies, she was stupid to have forgotten it. It - his link to the Death Eaters; the heavy black mark that scarred his forearm and her memories. A rush of sickness came over her briefly as her hands moved back up his arms and her thumb timidly rubbed the Dark Mark. She stared at it in all its ugliness. Never before had she seen one so up close, not even Draco's when he had showed it to her. It was so hideous, this thing. She must have been staring forever. It felt like forever anyway.
"Hermione?"
He said her name. Oh god, he'd been trying to get her attention for the past five minutes while she adored his nakedness. Was this what he was trying to avoid? Had she ruined the moment? She raised her head.
"Yes?"
"I will understand if you don't wish to continue." Snape's voice was almost lovingly gentle. He had no doubt been expecting her reaction. Hermione wanted to kick herself for not envisioning this. Had she prepared herself properly, it would be nothing to her. Now she was distracted.
"I have wanted this... I mean... you... too long to stop now. I just hadn't expected... I mean I know you had... I just... I've never seen it up close before. That's all."
There was a virtual Quidditch match going on Snape's head. His attention was like a Quaffle and it was being passed between lust, denial, rage, and now horror as the object of his desire stared upon the Dark Mark that linked him with his past. She had admitted she wanted him and no woman had ever looked at him this way. No single set of eyes had examined his naked body the way she had. She adored him. She wanted him. It was a singular moment of realization that Snape couldn't push aside. He was half naked with his pants undone and this beautiful Goddess was stuck on his Dark Mark. Damn! Snape would have never thought Voldemort could interfere with his sex life three years after his death. Maybe that was the real meaning of immortality. Snape had few doubts at this moment that Voldemort had achieved it.
He wanted to say something to break the tension and to draw her back to the present. If he just continued undressing, she would probably be offended. If he undressed her, she might push him away. What if she was repulsed now? Say something Severus. Anything.
"He is dead Hermione. He is gone."
She nodded. Good, he hadn't said anything to make her cry. She looked up at him and smiled and continued to run her hands up his arms again. Hermione's fingers locked behind his head and pulled him down into a kiss. Immediately her tongue probed his mouth and her body clung to his. In an instant, all the horrid thoughts he had been contemplating disappeared and were lost in her taste again. She moaned slightly when his arms wrapped around her body. Fingers dived into his hair, wrapped around his ears, ran down his neck. The sensations were overwhelming. God, he even had his eyes closed. This was so real.
Her arms quickly left his neck to run down his chest where she slipped underneath his arms and into his pants. She cradled his ass. With a deep groan he signaled his satisfaction to her and he felt her playful smile break their kiss slightly. She paid him back for his earlier ass squeezes with one of her own while she ground her hips into him. In an instant, Snape realized there was but a tiny piece of cloth separating his painful erection from the world.
And so had Hermione. She moved away slightly and pulled his pants down. He had her face locked in a kiss so she couldn't look at her recent discovery. How did it feel to know that you were about to touch something so private that you hadn't seen before? He wondered, and he hoped he would find out later. But now he had to concentrate on not losing it all together. Her hands roamed around his hips, enjoying the definition of his bones and the trail of hair that led to his groin.
Hermione was so close. Her hands had run up his hips several times now. Each time she descended she told herself this would be the time. Just touch it. It wont hurt. You want to. She told herself these things and many others. Then entered Doubt, like a beast from Hell. What if it's not what you're expecting? What if it's awful? What if he's not hard? Why does that bother me? So what if he's not hard, you still want him right?
One of his hands left her waist. Oh no. But then it came up and cupped her left cheek in a romantic touch. Her mind milling continued.
What if Snape doesn't want this? What if he's embarrassed? Her hands continued to roam all over his chest as her mind contemplated the inevitable moment she would have to plunge in to take what she wanted. His hand left her cheek, took her right hand and moved it down. She felt the corners of his mouth perk up into a slight smile as she shuddered under his touch. His fingers interlaced around the back of hers and they both grabbed his shaft at the same time. And then his hand left hers all alone to do the exploring he must have sensed she was too timid to begin on her own.
He was hard and with great satisfaction Hermione noted he felt perfectly as she had imagined. She was just brushing the skin lightly and memorizing the outline of his... what should she call it? Oh god, what if they talked about it later? What was appropriate? Penis? That sounded too clinical. Dick? Was that too raunchy? Cock certainly had to be. She pushed the thought out of her mind. It. It was perfect in length with a very well defined head. The skin was so smooth and hot. It felt like fire beneath her fingers, and it was so hard she could feel it throbbing. How wide was he? Right. She wrapped her forefinger and her thumb around what felt like the widest point and then made a note to herself to remember later when she was alone to refer to that.
And when she had grabbed It like that, Snape had gasped and severed their kiss. He was panting heavily now, his cheek resting against hers. She continued her gentle exploration, running a finger from the base to the tip, remarking on the area just beneath the head where It was extra fleshy and soft. Snape groaned exquisitely in her ear.
And Hermione was free to look down now. And she did so. It was as red as it was hot and she let it rest gently in her palm as she looked on It for the first time with such ferocious curiosity. She began to pet the side laying against her palm softly, eliciting more moans from the lips next to her ears. She increased the speed of her petting, even daring herself to reach further down each time to feel the loose skin beneath that led to his balls.
Snape's hands, which had been wrapped around her body loosened. His right hand went up to brace himself against the bookshelf behind her. His left went down to the hand resting against him. He clumsily grabbed her fingers and wrapped them around the shaft and then he instructed her silently to stroke him.
Hermione's heart pounded wildly in her chest. Snape was beyond passion now. He wanted to feel her pleasing him and it was such an empowering feeling. Hermione watched in utter fascination as his hand gently curled around hers, moving it up and down gracefully with practiced movement. Hermione smiled to herself viciously. The thought of him doing this on his own nearly ruptured an inappropriate fit of giggles within her mind.
He finally let go, but she continued the movements as he had shown her. His other hand settled around her shoulders and he continued to pant in her ear softly. She could see the muscles in his stomach tighten and his breathing becoming heavily labored. Her hand was tiring and she didn't know if she could keep this up much longer. As she slowed, the comforting arm left her shoulder again and he wrapped his hand around her wrist, encouraging her to continue.
"Faster," he mumbled softly. She complied and only moments later her eyes beheld a beautiful spectacle as he released. The muscles in his stomach contracted several times and she heard him grunt softly in her ear. Tiny streams of pearly liquid had rained down on her hand and the floor. She smiled. She had done it and he was still panting in her ear, his arm now wrapped around her shoulder again, holding the nape of her neck with his hand.
"I don't suppose that is how your fantasy went." Snape's statement was self-biting.
Hermione pulled her head away so she could look into his eyes. His face was beyond relaxed. He looked like an angel.
"No, it wasn't. In my fantasies you're never quite that big."
Severus was floored.
----
A/N: I'm sort of ashamed that I wrote this. I don't really like this sort of thing. If you've read any of my other fanfiction you know that I avoid the intimate details. But I was intrigued by Snape's ability to be aloof, unaware and I think he would probably be completely overwhelmed by Hermione. That is what I was going for. =)
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