"Cause love and loving are two different things"

Severus' hand slid from Hemione's cheek to tangle itself in the wild curls at the nape of her neck. He moved his fingers gently, caressing her, as he looked deeply into her eyes. Her eyes rolled briefly, and closed. He carefully leaned forward and brushed her nose with his, urging her to meet his gaze. She looked quickly from his eyes to his mouth and back again, inviting him, but too shy to initiate. He moved to take her bottom lip in his own and sucked gently. Of their own accord her arms came up to wrap themselves around his neck. She moaned softly and as her mouth opened to let the light sound escape, he deepened the kiss.

She knew how to kiss. She had done enough snogging with various members of her class in darkened classrooms after curfew. This was different though. The boys in her class would immediately begin checking out her tonsils. There was no such invasion into her mouth from him. A little tentatively she decided to test the waters.

Carefully she reached, tasting his mouth. He returned the gesture in kind and soon they were pushing and pulling, one mouth from the other. Teasing and taking. He giving no more than she offered.

At some point they moved to the floor, though how they got there, she did not recall. Gazing up at him, she reached out with uncertain hands. By firelight she learned every angle of his face. She traveled slowly. Fingers grazed his eyebrows and moved down the bridge of his nose, only to be caught gently by his teeth. The back of her hand continued up his jaw to his cheek, roughened slightly with a near-day old beard. Her mouth traced the same path as her hand, and continued further. She paused to nip carefully at the lobe of his ear before tasting her way down his neck.

Here she stopped and found herself at a loss. Her eyes searched him out again, pleading his for help. He smiled gently and traced the outline of one full, perfect lip with his thumb before claiming her mouth with his.

Slowly his hands began to move, and as they moved, his mouth quickly followed suit. As she had learned his face, he memorized her body. He saw the wonder in her eyes, heard the increasingly frequent gasps that escaped from deep within her, and felt her passion build. He tasted, licked, nibbled, and worked her into a frenzy. Her back arched, her hands clenched his shoulders in frustration; trying to grab what she could sense was floating just out of reach. When she could take no more, he tested her, worked her, and sent her spiraling to what her body was crying for. He rose slightly and moved up to look at her face. Her head was thrown back, eyes closed, and her mouth formed a perfect O of surprise.

Slowly she returned to herself and opened her eyes. The contented look was followed by a knitting of her brows. She chewed delicately on her bottom lip, not sure how to proceed. He rolled then and she found herself above him. She leaned into him and began kissing him. Unsure of herself, she made no move to deepen the embrace.

He resumed the role she was most familiar with. He became her teacher. His hands covered hers, guided her in the curriculum that was his body. Teaching her the touches, caresses, and strokes. She learned knowledge of his anatomy that no written word could provide. Taste, smell, and the sound her lessons brought from him. Eventually his hands left hers and returned to her body. Once again, the duel began. One to the other, give and take.

He carefully guided her over him. Although she now held the position of power, he saw fear flash briefly in her eyes; only to be pushed back, trust taking its place.

She lifted her hips and guided him into her. Neither moved, neither breathed. She was, once again, clearly confused as how to proceed. She tried moving straight up and down, bouncing like a ball.

"That's clearly not right," she thought. Not sure of where to put her hands and what to do with her body, she looked to him for help. He bailed her out once again, and began the next lesson. He pushed her back until she sat upright, bracing her hands on his chest. He placed a long hand on either hip. "Dance," he directed her.

She struggled to wrap her mind around that one word, to puzzle it's meaning. "Dance for me, Hermione," and as his voice wrapped her in velvet, she began to dance. She imagined the driving beat of the music and ground her hips in time. The beat grew in intensity. He knew the song as well.

He watched her as the music played itself across her face, a tune heard only by two hearts. Her head was thrown back, eyes closed. She moved in wild abandon. The tempo increased and the words grew desperate. Allowing himself one last look at the dancer she had become, he threw his own head back against the floor, closed his eyes and together they heard their bodies sing.

She collapsed against him and the tempo slowed. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled to his side. She snuggled against him. He murmered something and a blanket was lowered over them. Another incoherent sound and 2 pillows appeared. A third and the floor under them softened. By firelight they lay entwined.

You set your sights far too low

She finally broke the silence. "What now?"

His eyes widened at this. "Excuse me??"

"What now?"

The question clearly obviously distressed him. His reaction sent fear straight to her heart.

He rolled to his back and covered his eyes with his arm. "Hermione, even I need a little time to… um… recover a bit."

"Gods, Severus, you truly are a git at times. I don't mean what's next with that; I mean what's next with us? Obviously I understand that this has to be kept quiet. You don't want to be seen as being with me. Where do we go from here?"

He was clearly getting angry now. "I thought I made it perfectly clear. There will be no sneaking around, no pretending we don't exist. If you are not prepared to see this through, then we have made a grievous mistake, Miss Granger."

By this time they were both sitting up on the floor, glaring at each other.

"Oh, it's Miss Granger, is it? Well listen up you dolt. For your information, I was only thinking of you. Trying to spare you the humiliation of having to be seen with me. I haven't got a reputation for being too bright lately. I'm sure people will be wondering whatever possessed you to take up with the likes of me." Her lower lip had begun to quiver.

"Hermione, listen to me." She looked at the floor and gathered the blanket tightly around herself. "Listen to me. Do you want to be seen with a former Deatheater?" Her eyes flew to his face. "Does that thought bother you??"

"No, of course not." She moved closer to him, and curled up on his lap.

"I didn't think so. Ever the brave Gryffindor. Why ever would you think that the reverse could be true? You have got to trust my actions. These actions will not include hiding the fact that we are, indeed, a we. I told you once tonight that there would be no poetic statements on bended knee. This extends to no strolling through the halls arm in arm, holding hands under the dinner table, or snogging in the Gryffindor common room. There will also be no doubt as to where my heart now lies and I refuse to play silly games to hide that fact."

"Now if you don't mind, it's been a long night and I am very tired." He layed down on his side and faced the fire. Blinking back tears, she rose to her feet and looked around for the PJ top she had been wearing. Pulling it on over her head, she moved toward the door.

He sighed heavily from the floor. "Hermione," he spat out, clearly annoyed with her once again.

"Yes," she answered, her voice quivering slightly.

"Will you lie down and please go to sleep?" he asked softly. She could hear he was smiling.

She quietly sighed in relief, returned to him, and lowered herself into his arms. Curled around one another, wrapped warmly in the blanket, bathed in firelight, they slept.