Spoilers: Order of the Phoenix
Story based on Elyse Camille's picture Craving.
I had to go away. Trust Albus to find a way to throw in a celebration when nothing calls for it. It should have been the Leaving Feast for the Dream Team of Potter, Weasley and Granger. It had turned into a gigantic chaos, where interpellations fused from one side of the Great Hall to the other side and laughter rang and everybody smiled. Everybody but me, naturally, brooding as usual. So I left.
Now I'm in the dark corridors. I can still hear the laughter behind me, but it seems very far. Then I hear a soft voice, something I wouldn't even have dreamed of hearing:
"Professor?"
I turn slowly and she's here, truly here, standing in front of me, in a gown of dark green velvet. If someone had told me earlier that only a Gryffindor could wear so well the Slytherin green, I would have laughed to make my ribs hurt. But now I don't laugh, because there is this vision in front of me. She had proven everybody wrong in her fourth year, showing she could be beautiful. And she proves it again tonight.
Something, somewhere, is not fair. I left the celebration because I wanted to avoid her. And she followed me outside. A wink of fate? My heart aches just by looking at her. She doesn't know, I made sure of that. I didn't want her to laugh at me and ridicule me. But now that she's looking at me, I'm not so sure that I chose right.
Slowly, carefully, as if she fears a rebuke, she says:
"Severus?"
My name on her lips is my undoing. I take one step, one giant step to close the distance between us, and I pull her in my arms. She doesn't fight me, she just looks up at me and smiles. Oh, I just love the light in her eyes, the light that tells me I made the move she couldn't bring herself to make.
I raise my hand to her cheek; that's all I can allow myself, I have no right to do more. But she smiles again and leans in my touch, half-closing her eyes. I can't hold any longer. My hand slides to cradle her neck and I lean forward to kiss her.
Surprise could not begin to describe what I feel when she entangles her fingers in my hair, pulling my head closer to hers, pressing her lips to mine. Her kiss matches mine in fierceness and I lose completely my restraint. There is no way I can resist her and I don't even intend to try.
I knew nothing of love until I met her. I knew nothing of craving until I tasted her lips. Now I know what love is. It's staring at me in the face just right now. Love has the face of Hermione Granger. Now I know what craving is. Craving has the same sweet, tangy taste as her lips. Each time I have to stop kissing her to breathe, I feel the urge to kiss her again. I crave for her touch, for her lips on mine, for her hands on my shoulders, for her in my arms.
I wonder how I lasted so long without her. I yearn for her, only her, and in her eyes, I can see she feels the same. I know there is danger outside and that we both are privileged targets, but in the light of her smile, I forget the danger, I forget everything in her kiss, everything but her.
