Chapter 13   The After-The-First-Time Morning

Severus Snape realised that he had not been dreaming.  It was still dark, perhaps four AM, and some hours yet until dawn. This was real. Hermione Granger lay snuggled against his side, her leg over his, her mouth slightly open.  She slept like the child she still was. But she made love like the woman she had obviously become, and he was exhausted. He had resisted sleep, listening to her regular breathing slow as she sank into slumber, unwilling to drift off and to find out that, like his other dreams, this ecstatic night was only a figment of his imagination.

She sighed and curled into his shoulder. She's probably still sore.  He murmured a healing charm, put his other arm around her and brushed his lips against her forehead.  Breathing her sweet breath, he slept.

Hermione buried her face in the pillow.  Her bladder was full, and she knew she had to get up; she slitted her eyes and saw light in the window.  Not her window.

She started to sit up, but a heavy arm anchored her to the bed.  I didn't dream it. This is Severus Snape's bedchamber; I'm in his bed – with him… She turned her head to look at him.  Snape's face was different: he looked peaceful, even the deep scowl line between his brows seemed to have smoothed somewhat, and he was smiling slightly.  She smiled back, and put her nose against his jaw.

"Mmmrhh," he mumbled, pulling her closer.

Oh, gods, Archibald's awake, the Slytherin Snake has arisen; the marvellous toy is wound up. Bathroom first.

"Severus, love, I have to go to the loo.  Let me up."

He murmured something that sounded like "…damned tiny bladders," and released her, rolling over and cocooning himself in the comforter.

Hermione used the toilet and washed her face and hands.

I'm going to be late to class, but how often does one have an after-the-first-time morning?

Severus passed her on his way to the bathroom.  "Keep the bed warm for me, will you?"

She got back into bed on his side, burying her nose in his warm male smell on the sheets and pillows. She stretched luxuriously.  He returned and climbed into bed with her.  She put her arms around him, and he pillowed his head on her breast, took her hand and put it on his erect penis

. "Tell me, Severus."

"Anything, love."  He put his hand over hers and moved the loose, china-silk skin up and down on the shaft.

" Does it never let you rest?"

He laughed.  "We men have this thing that is always in search of a snug harbour, always needing attention.  It has quite a mind of its own."  He ran his hand over her stomach.  "You were rather sore last night, so I applied a healing charm."  He touched a gentle finger to her soft folds.  "How do you feel?"

Hermione kissed his face, his neck, and his ears. "Much better," she whispered, "although I think that I shall have to walk carefully today."

Severus drew her head down to his and kissed her thoroughly.  He pulled the comforter up over them.

They barely made it to class.  The Advanced Transfigurations, which Hermione was auditing, had just begun.  Minerva McGonagall lifted an eyebrow as Hermione, in her formal robes, hurried to her seat and sat down gingerly. Someone's made a decision, she thought, and smiled her feline smile.  Had she been in her Animagus form, she would have put her whiskers forward and switched her tail.  To her credit, Hermione paid attention scrupulously.  Good habits remain in spite of everything, thought Minerva.

Snape's Potions Class did not go as smoothly.  He stalked into the room, as usual, but seemed to have an abstracted air, which his class of Ravenclaws immediately noted.  Whispers began:  "What's the matter with Snape?"  "Think he's sick?"  "Maybe we won't get detention."  Their hopes were in vain, Professor Snape pulled himself together and was as relentless as ever.  But there were the whispers…

Somehow the morning passed, and as she left the classroom, Hermione saw Snape heading down the hall towards her, his cloak billowing.  He nodded gravely to her, and together they walked to the Great Hall for luncheon.

Dame Angharad took her seat next to Professor Flitwick, and helped herself to soup, bread and fruit.  Filius Flitwick, trying to decide between a cheese and cucumber sandwich on brown bread or a cold chicken salad, looked up, stared, and then turned to the Runes Mistress:

 "Dame Angharad, do you see what I see?"

"I see what I see, Professor, and that is two very happy people."

"Whoever would have thought it?  He looks like a different man."

"Not at all," answered the Druid.  "Himself has always been the same under his cloak of sorrow; he has exchanged it for joy."

~*~

Severus backed out from underneath the laboratory bench, stood up and dusted himself off.  He held a padded package containing rice-paper filters made in China to his exact specifications.

Hermione turned around from the distilling apparatus she was constructing:  "Oh, good!  You've found them!"

Snape undid the package carefully and handed her one of the pale brown filters.  "Damn Longbottom," he grumped. "I merely asked him to straighten out the shelves under the benches, and he's got everything helter-skelter.  It will take me a week to get it right."

 He stalked over to a simmering cauldron; bent over it, then poked a ladle in carefully, nodded and regulated the heat.  They worked in companionable silence, as they always had, asking questions and exchanging observations as necessary.  There was a rhythm to their working together, Hermione observed; they knew each other so well that she could pass in back of him as he dissected a salamander and wordlessly hand him a haemostat; he could glance at her at the exact instant that she looked up at him, and with a nod indicate that she should add the pinch of whatever substance she held in her hands, or not add it.

The dinner chimes rang, and Hermione put down her wand, held her hands to the small of her back and stretched.  Two large, strong, warm hands positioned themselves on her back, and Severus rubbed her tight muscles until they loosened.  She leaned back against him.

"Thank you," she smiled, and turned around to put her arms around his waist and look up at him. How lovely it is to work with him, she thought, and told him so.

He put his chin on top of her head.  "I am not good with words," Severus said.  "What I want to say, and forgive me if I stumble, is that you are my fulfilment of pride and accomplishment.  I know I've said that badly, but I hope you know what I mean."  "Also," he continued, "as much as I may have subjected you to my fierce temper and perfectionism over the years, I knew you were strong, so strong that you could take it and use it, and so you have."

Hermione released him and stepped back so she could look at him directly.  "I understand," said she. "Even when you were at your most atrocious, I've had the comfort of knowing that when we worked together, we were of one mind, the best of companions."

"You will reduce me to slobbering tears, and ruin the illusion of the terrifying Potions Master," he said.  "Let us get cleaned up and go down to dinner."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears.  "As you will me, and spoil the persona of the know-it-all Gryffindor," she said, rummaging vainly in the pocket of her robe for a handkerchief.

"By Hermes Trismegistus, I shall turn your sleeve into nettles if you wipe your eyes on it!" he scolded.  "Why do women cry when they are happy?"

Hermione stifled a giggle.  "Very well, I shall not use my sleeve as a handkerchief."  She paused.  "I shall use yours."   In the face of his outraged splutters, she seized the full sleeve of his robe, wiped her eyes and prepared to blow her nose, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

He levelled his most intimidating glare on her.  "How dare—"

"Peace!" cried she.  "I was only teasing!"  She passed her hand over his sleeve and the tears dried, as well as some potions splatters that had landed there earlier.

Severus looked at her, flabbergasted.  "You did it," he whispered.  "Without your wand. Is there no end to the surprises you have in store for me?"

"Well, you have surprised me time and time again," she countered.  "I have had the most excellent of teachers, you know."

With that, they summoned the house-elves to clean up the laboratory.