by Ezzie
Warning: This is definitely R -> NC-17. It's not squicky. Just explicit. PLEASE make sure you are of a proper age before reading.
Plot Warning: You will want to read "Just A Kiss" and "More Than A Kiss" first, for greater effect.
Hermione dared glance into Snape's eyes as that now familiar look of astonishment grew on his face and then despite all her better judgment, she giggled. Oh Gods, she giggled and in absolute horror she raised her unsoiled hand to cover her mouth. Her amusement was ruining his post-climax bliss and it was apparent in the dark look on his face that had morphed out of the one of shock.
- - -
Was that a... giggle? Snape had to ask himself more than once. He felt his brow furrow with practiced ease much the way it did when young girls giggled in his classroom. She was looking positively horrified now and Snape realized he must have been wearing one of his infamous death stares. It wasn't intentional of course. After all she still had one hand wrapped around him and he was feeling anything but hatred towards her. For the first time since he had fully disrobed he looked down. Her thumb was moving very slowly along his shaft, and even after such an intense release he could feel it rousing a passion in him he hadn't felt in so long.
After a few deep breaths and several seconds with his unclouded thoughts, Snape realized he was completely naked - save the trousers bunched up at his feet, his socks and his shoes. And she was, curiously enough, completely clothed. The irony was almost too much. He had overcompensated for the guilt he was feeling earlier and now he was naked, she was not and she was in total control. He sighed inwardly.
"What is it you find so amusing?" he heard himself say in a rough voice. The smile on her face had already faded moments ago, but now she looked crushed.
- - -
Hermione knew the moment he had asked the question that he wasn't really angry, but the tone of his voice reminded her all too much of the days when he would openly ridicule her looks or her work in class. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks and despite the bravery she had shown up to this point, she wanted nothing more now than to flee from him and forget any of this happened.
Staring at Snape's bare chest in front of her, Hermione began making plans for her escape. For several silent moments she calculated every move: ducking under his arm that was still propped up against the bookshelf, grabbing her bag and then heading for the door. In the middle of envisioning herself slipping out, something jumped in her hand. With horror she realized she was still holding something of his - something that clearly wasn't finished with what she had started.
Startled into reality, Hermione let go of his privates and executed her plan. Snape made no move to follow her. He had whipped his head around to watch her go and his face showed he was utterly confused as to what she was doing. Hermione tried to ignore it. With a final look back at his naked body she realized that his feet were bound together by his trousers and he had no immediate access to his wand. Snape was in no position to stop or follow her. She reached for the door handle and found herself thankful for the fact that he hadn't locked it. Was that intentional she wondered? The door slammed shut behind her, echoing her discomfort through the stone dungeon hall.
Then Hermione ran. She ran through the dungeons, up the stairs, just barely dodging Peeves and nearly tripping over a flowerpot he had thrown into the hallway. Oh, Filch would be upset about that! But Hermione didn't want to think about Filch or the flowerpot or Peeves. She wanted to get out of her skin and be someone else.
It wasn't obvious where her legs were carrying her. There were of course her quarters, but she had no desire to be there. Memories of him were there - well at least memories of her fantasizing about him were. What about the Library? The Great Hall? Gryffindor Tower? All of these reminded her of him in some way, especially Gryffindor Tower where she had spent her seventh year trying to rationalize the behavior he had just shown her. Maybe outside? It was just now turning dark and she could take a quick walk by the lake to clear her thoughts without being seen.
Hermione pushed open the heavy wooden door that led from the Great Hall to the gardens and then sprinted down a gravel path towards the lake. It was quite bright outside despite the sun having set, and with a careful glance upward she noted it was nearly the full moon - the recognition of which made her think of Professor Lupin. What was he doing now? Was he at home, perhaps with Sirius and his new wife? Maybe Harry was there as well with Ginny, Ron and Lavender. Why couldn't she be there; far away from this humiliating experience? Why had she gone through with it? He had given her so many chances to escape without question and without requiring an explanation. Snape knew precisely what would happen: an awkward or embarrassing moment after the act took place. Why hadn't she seen that coming? Probably for the same reason she had never pictured the Dark Mark on his arm - she had idealized Snape beyond all comprehension. She had let her desires paint his personality in a light that just wasn't accurate.
- - -
She slammed the door - damned girl - no, woman! She would wake up the entire castle and that was the last thing they needed. Snape didn't want to face the Headmaster after what just happened. But why had she fled? What had he done wrong? He wasn't angry with her, quite the contrary. No, she couldn't have been afraid of his anger - he had actually made an effort to show her it wasn't there. She must have been afraid of something else, but what precisely could that have been? Maybe she was embarrassed or uncomfortable. After all, how often in her life would Hermione Granger find herself holding the genitals of her former Potions Master? Snape's subconscious answered the question for her: hopefully often.
Snape looked down at himself with only half amusement when he realized that he was still hard. She had done a great job of rousing his sexual demons and they were in no way sated. He bent down, slid his underclothes up over himself and carefully put his pants back on. Without realizing it, he spent just a little more time than usual buttoning them up. His thumb occasionally brushed the soft fabric that separated the world from his hardness. A gentle moan erupted from his throat.
Damn her. She had wanted this and she had made him want it too. Then she had left, but why? Snape dragged himself mentally back into the debate. She couldn't have been embarrassed! She wasn't forced to reveal that she was so sexually deprived that she came too soon - of course with women that was never a bad thing! She had been clothed. He hadn't touched her. And she couldn't have been embarrassed of seeing him naked - she said he was what she wanted.
So what about this encounter had inspired her to flee without even a goodbye? Snape stared at the ceiling. He was still half naked.
Pointless! It was pointless, he realized, to analyze her. The only thing he knew about Hermione Granger was that she had two incredibly annoying friends, she had an exhausting personality and that at some point she had made up with Draco Malfoy. That had been a miracle considering Malfoy's apparent hatred of Mudbl... No! Muggleborns! Snape had to mentally correct himself. The slur was not something he would ever say aloud, but after seven years in Slytherin and several more as a Death Eater, even the reformed Potions Master used it in his mind occasionally. It seemed so inappropriate to use it to describe her now. But Snape could remember when Malfoy had used it several times to taunt her; taunts that would inspire earth shattering battles between Slytherin and Gryffindor.
In fact he recalled one such fight where Malfoy missed hitting Potter or Weasley or some other irritating child and had hit Granger. Her teeth had grown to a ridiculous size and he had made some passing joke about it. What had he said? Ah yes. 'I see no difference.' Snape chuckled to himself out loud and repeated the words.
"I see no difference." His voice echoed through the room and chilled his blood.
"What is it you find so amusing?" he then said. They were the last words he had said to her. That is when he realized he had sounded just like he did when he made the uncaring remark about her teeth. She had fled because she had flashbacks of his horrible treatment of her!
Snape rushed to his desk, opened a drawer and pulled out a tattered piece of parchment. He unfolded it carefully and began searching for her in the labyrinth of lines that were drawn on the paper. After the Goblet of Fire incident, Dumbledore had let him keep the map. Grateful that the castle was empty, Snape looked all over for where she might be and then he spotted her. A small dot labeled 'Hermione Granger' was moving quickly through the garden by the Great Hall. He watched her begin to follow the path down to the lake. Without thinking twice, Snape summoned the rest of his clothes and dressed quickly.
- - -
Hermione came to a gripping halt when she saw the black-cloaked man standing at the end of the path. There was little doubt in her mind that it was Snape, but how the hell had he beat her out here? When she stopped running he walked towards her, stopping a few feet away, no doubt to put her at ease. He looked non-confrontational but Hermione wasn't really sure what his intentions were. Was he so sex crazed that he couldn't wait to see her again? Would he grab her, drag her into the forest and be done with it? What a ridiculous idea! Hermione pushed it out of her mind. No, perhaps she should apologize for running out. Maybe that's all he wanted - an explanation. Maybe he was emotionally hurt.
"I'm so sorry..." she began in her most contrite voice. He never did let her finish.
"It is I who should be apologizing. For a great many things I imagine."
"You've no need to apologize for this evening. I thought I made it clear that it is what I wanted," Hermione replied. She began to shake slightly from the lukewarm breeze that was whipping through the trees nearby.
"So you did," he said and then inserted an artful pause. "However, I seem to remember there are other transgressions in my past that you've not yet forgiven. Certain... remarks. I am sorry for having said them."
Hermione looked up at the moon to hide her emotion. Did Severus Snape just apologize for all the nasty things he had ever done to her? Had he honestly remembered those comments - each of them? Somewhere, Hell had to be freezing over.
"How did you get out here so quickly and how did you know I would be here," she blurted out. Hermione couldn't think of anything else to say in response to his apology. Saying 'I forgive you' seemed so melodramatic, not to mention the fact that he should be suffering more than he seemed to be. Yes, don't let him off so easy.
"I'm sure you can figure out the answers to both of those questions. Do not avoid the subject," he said back to her with a gentle voice.
"You have the map?" Hermione asked. What a stupid question, she realized. Of course he had the map - who else would? "Never mind and forget I asked. I don't really want to know." And then she decided he needed to do the talking. What else was there for her to say?
Hermione chanced a glance in Snape's direction. He looked like a demon in this light. His pale skin reflected the rays of the moon; his deep-set eyes, crooked nose and black hair cast long shadows on his face. He was fully clothed again in his usual regalia and had added his cloak to the ensemble. She couldn't help feeling a sense of loss that all her hard work at removing those clothes had gone unrewarded. Her mind began to roam.
What was it she saw in him? He looked like the villain monster in some Muggle film she couldn't remember the name of. Had she known him from school, Snape wouldn't have had a chance with her. He was nothing like the boys she usually dated. But then again, none of them inspired panty-drenching dreams.
"That is why you left isn't it?" His voice pulled her out of contemplation.
"Yes. I suppose it is." It was a truthful answer. Hermione sighed to herself. In reality she wasn't upset, merely shocked at the tone of his voice. It was a reality check for her, and the reality scared her. "I owe you an apology also, for acting childishly after... well... you know."
"Yes well I assure you it hasn't adversely... affected... me in anyway."
'Affected'? Did she just hear that right? Was he alluding to what she thought he was? The tiny muscles between her legs contracted without her consent and it sent shivers up her spine.
"You're cold. This is ridiculous. We should go back inside." Oh god, he had no idea that those few words had 'affected' her so greatly.
Hermione nodded and turned to go.
'No. It's much faster this way. Come here," Snape said, holding out a hand to her. Hermione didn't know quite what to think of this gesture. Were they going for a stroll in the forest? Reluctantly, she took his hand.
- - -
She had shivered when he dropped the subtle hint. He knew she would never say anything like 'I forgive you' so the next best thing was to let her know he still wanted to explore her fantasies. Her response had been perfect. Snape had never been so excited to see a young Gryffindor tremble at the sound of his words and although it was trembling of a different kind, it was no less satisfying.
He held her hand and for a brief moment took in the sight of her in this light. The dusty brown hair, clear pale skin and deep brown eyes. Her hand was so soft against his except for a few slight abnormalities that he attributed to the remnants of their previous encounter. The muscles in his face fought to prevent a very prideful smile from forming. He wrapped her other hand around his waist, covered her in his cloak and then Apparated back to his quarters.
Snape looked down to find her hugging him and a look of shock on her face.
"How did you... you can't!" Hermione protested.
"I beg to differ. It seems that even the finest of Hogwarts minds have yet to realize you can Apparate within the grounds. How do you think the House Elves do it?"
"I guess I just... Well I..."
Gods, she was so beautiful when she stammered. Snape wasn't even listening to her excuses. He was recalling an incident months ago at dinner when Sinistra had asked her about some insolent boy she was dating. Hermione had similarly stumbled over the words and nervously glanced in his direction. All the while she went explaining how it was nothing, that the boy had wanted something more serious but she wanted someone older. Someone mature. Someone seasoned. He had chalked the conversation up to meddlesome gossip - a phenomenon common between the female staff. Oh what an idiot he was. How could he have missed all the tell tale signs of an enamored woman?
He put his thumb to her lips to stop her incessant explanations - a much better alternative to the harsh words that floated through is mind. Hermione looked up into his eyes and he thought his heart might stop beating.
"Hermione. I meant it when I said I was sorry for the things I've said in the past."
"Even the one about my teeth?" She replied playfully while taking the hand near her face into hers.
Her voice sounded so sensuous and it made the semi-erect creature in his pants jump to full life again. She was standing just close enough to feel it and a guilty smile grew on her face. The next thing he knew she was rubbing him again, through his pants. Snape's head spun and he was forced to close his eyes and look towards the ceiling to keep composed. Did she have any idea what this did to him? And that he wanted nothing more than to just rip off his clothes and release? It didn't even matter if she participated; the fire inside of him was so great now that he felt he might burst. He heard himself moan and just seconds later felt her undoing his pants again.
This time, when she pulled his pants down, she took hold of him right away and began her massage. If she kept this up, this encounter would be short lived like the last one. Surely she had greater ambitions than this? Snape grabbed her wrist and pulled it away, opting instead to bring her palms to his face to plant kisses there.
"I don't believe in repeat performances of that kind," he whispered.
- - -
Didn't he know all she wanted to do was explore every inch of his body? If that meant seeing him release over and over again without him touching her, that would be ok. Now he was denying her that dream. But his lips against her palms felt heavenly. The wet supple skin brushed against her lifelines his tongue traced along them. Moments later she realized she was panting; and from what? Little kisses on a completely innocent place? Well maybe it wasn't so innocent. Nothing innocent could elicit this response from her body.
He pulled her hands apart and placed them around his neck. His lips descended upon hers and once again Hermione seemed lost in the feel of his pointed tongue in her mouth. His taste and his scent aroused her to indescribable heights. She could smell him when she breathed in through her nose and taste him when he exhaled slightly through his mouth.
Snape moved one hand down her back, lifted up her robe and began to pull the soft cotton shirt out of her pants. Hermione was reminded of the white shirt he was wearing - the one she would have for her own. A subconscious thought process began working on the plot to acquire it.
When Snape reached bare skin, he ran his hand up her shirt. His hand was so large it nearly covered the entirety of her back. The mere touch of his hand to her back was like electricity shooting through her and unfamiliar warmth filled her mind and body.
Hermione was so enraptured by this kiss and his touch that she didn't notice he was undoing her pants and her robe. His unoccupied hand then pushed her robe off of her shoulders, and her hands came down to let it fall to the floor. Then Snape's hand descended from her back, into her pants. If he meant to get down there, she would need to undo some buttons. He broke the kiss momentarily as she reached down. Crap! They were already undone! How did he do that?
The amused expression on his face said all. He had used a spell, but before she could ask which one he had resumed probing her mouth.
- - -
Snape didn't really want to continue their previous game of cat and mouse psychological sex warfare, but he could easily see how effective the art of surprise was. She clearly hadn't considered using magic to undress him, so when she was becoming more naked by the second without realizing it, she was startled. The look on her face was precious and Snape found it erotic.
He reached all the way down Hermione's pants and underneath her panties. The skin of her ass was soft and hard at the same time. He cupped her right cheek with his right hand. It fit so perfectly. She squirmed against him as he adjusted his grip and the tips of his fingers came dangerously close to her arousal points. Snape slightly winced in pain as the open flaps of her pants dug into the erection now trapped between them.
He didn't want to move. He wanted to stay in this position forever. There was no greater pleasure than the feel of a woman that wanted him under his touch. It was an even greater feeling than brewing difficult potions, belittling the children of his enemies, or defeating Voldemort. He took a deep breath and could smell her through his mouth. The warm air drifted from her oral cavity slipped into his throat and up into his nostrils. If there was a heaven then he hoped it smelled like her.
Her. An hour ago he hated her. An hour ago he would have never dreamed of pursuing this. How had his emotions changed so greatly? Was this merely the buildup of hormones in an old man desiring greatly for comfort, closeness, and an erotic adventure? Afterwards what would happen? What would she want to pursue then? Had her fantasies included anything beyond sex? And if they did would he want to be a part of them?
She was moving again. Her arms had come undone from around his neck and were now pushing her pants and underwear off. With amazing ease she kicked off her shoes and soon was standing naked from the waist down. She held him in a kiss so that he couldn't look down at her. There was no way for him to take in her beauty with his eyes. Did she really want him to touch her? The doubtful thoughts entered his mind again. How could a man be so conflicted about this? All he knew was that he couldn't move. Snape had managed to put his other hand on her back, but they seemed to be glued there.
- - -
He had surprised her by undoing her pants and her robe without her knowing it. It was obvious he wanted her naked, but now that she was standing there without her pants on, he was just holding her. His hands hadn't moved. He'd made no move to pull away from the kiss to look at her. Maybe he was teasing her. Hermione knew just what to do about that. She broke the kiss suddenly and pulled away so that his hands had to release her. He stood there looking puzzled, his pants open and his beautiful organ exposed.
Hermione lifted the cotton shirt she was wearing up over her head and then took her bra off. For the first few moments she was afraid to look at Snape. What if he found the sight of her repulsive? What if she wasn't what he was expecting? When she looked up into his face, Hermione thought she might faint. His eyes were wide open and the expression on his face was like that of a child. She had never seen him so relaxed. But still he didn't move. He simply looked her up and down. And then she heard him moan. It wasn't an intentional moan, she knew that much. It was an accident of sorts. Snape blushed and then ran a hand through his greasy looking hair.
Hermione had to stifle another giggle that surely would have ruined the moment. Instead she allowed herself to smile reassuringly at the man in front of her. He was no longer Snape the greasy git Professor, Snape the Death Eater, or Snape the nemesis of Harry Potter. He was Severus, the object of her desires. And he was no longer the idealized version of Severus Snape. He was just a man.
When Hermione took hold of his hands, he was trembling. She attributed it to a rush of male hormones and over excitement. She would never guess that he was actually nervous. His hands rested, at her command, on her hips and their kissing resumed. But even the kiss had changed. It no longer portrayed a sex-crazed man. It was the kiss of a man who wanted to enjoy every moment of what was about to happen. It was slow, sensual and caring. It made some part of Hermione's brain ponder what would happen after they were finished.
Snape's fingers were calloused and rough. This was another thing Hermione had never envisioned about him. Surely she had pondered the long tapered fingers many times before, but never once had she considered their texture or how they might actually feel against her. He moved slowly, his older hands gently dragging up her sides towards her neck and eventually down to her ass. Hermione gathered he must really like that part of her body. The rough feel of his clothes was heaven against her stomach and breasts. This much she had imagined - being pressed against the heavy black cloth. Snape's cloak just barely covered her nakedness as he reached around her body. Hermione tried to visualize what they looked like together and found the resulting thoughts to be extremely arousing; she tried to get closer by lifting one foot and wrapping it around his leg.
Snape responded by lifting Hermione in the air and wrapping her legs around his waist. He did it with such ease that she couldn't help but wonder if he was using a spell of some kind. It hardly mattered. She now felt the fabric of his cloak against the outsides of her legs and the rough feel of his robes on the insides. He broke the kiss and left a trail of saliva down the path her trachea made and into the small alcove formed by her collarbones. From this position she could smell his hair, which did not come off as greasy at all. It was more like a mix of cedar and sweat. Surprisingly arousing at the moment in fact.
Hermione felt she knew what was coming next. Snape seemed to lift her in the air just a tad bit more so he could begin kissing below her neck. One of her hands found itself tangled in a mess of black hair, as if to control the movements of his head when it was necessary to do so. The two hands that were cradled underneath her began climbing upwards and she knew at that moment that Snape was levitating her with a spell. God, why hadn't she thought of that? Snape's hands then found their way up her sides, caressed her belly and then cupped underneath her breasts. He leaned back a bit to look at them up close and then his lips descended upon her left nipple. Hermione threw her head back when the soft, wet lips met her skin. And then...
KNOCK KNOCK
They both froze. Hermione felt Snape's lips moving and a small gust of breath ran across her nipple. She was too terrified to really understand what he was doing. Her first thoughts were to get dressed quickly, somehow, before that door opened. Was it still unlocked? He had Apparated out of here before and probably hadn't thought to lock the door. Hermione panicked and squirmed beneath him, but she couldn't move. She wanted to shout 'let me down' but that would only alert whoever was on the other side of the door. Snape wrapped both arms around her and lowered her body enough to whisper in her ear.
"SSH. And don't move," he said.
He then made sure every part of her body was covered with his cloak - a move that Hermione would only appreciate later when she relived the moments they had together.
"Snape!" followed by KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK "I know you're in there!"
Hermione's body tensed up as she heard the doorknob turn. She could feel one of Snape's thumbs caressing her back reassuringly. In walked Sirius Black.
----
A/N: My muse visited me today, but she was kind of shakey though. She must have a cold - I know I do. I apologize for grammatical mistakes. I didn't have it beta-read. I couldn't bring myself to ask someone to look over something so... smutty. :( But I kind of like what Hermione and Snape are up to mentally, so I wrote it down. Enjoy. Feel free to point criticism in my direction. There will be one more installment. I promise the ending will be fullfilling.
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