Hermione's sense of triumph didn't last long. It was replaced in fairly
short order by the sense that she was completely in over her depth.
She wasn't a virgin, the war had tended to concentrate everyone's minds in the direction of sex. This didn't mean that she was well versed in the art of seduction thought. All it had taken to get Ron into bed was the simple question, "Look do you want to die a virgin, because I don't?" Apparently he had been so impressed with the line that he had used to great success several times himself, mainly on Hufflepuffs. No self-respecting Slytherin would admit to being a virgin, and no self-respecting Ravenclaw would say anything other than, "Given the choices available to me, yes!"
He hadn't been very good the first time, but she had made him keep going until he got it right, despite his complaints that he hadn't expected sex to be conducted as though it were a NEWT. For a couple of days after that he had given her a very wide berth with a wild look in his eyes, but he calmed down a little when she informed him that she had only been using him for sex. Occasionally she would catch him giving her looks of bewilderment, but now he had a girlfriend he seemed less jumpy.
Hermione thought that his girlfriend had a lot to thank her for. By the tenth time he was actually getting to be quite good.
Having now secured Severus's agreement to being seduced, she had absolutely no idea how to go about it. Running from the room in terror was not an option, however tempting it might seem at the moment. She was a Gryffindor. She was brave. She also thought Severus would never forgive her. It certainly wasn't the action of the mature, sensible adult she had been trying to argue she should be treated as.
Severus was looking at her oddly. Obviously she had to do something, and quickly. She wrapped a towel round herself. She took a deep breath, stepped closer to the tub, and picked up the backscrubber. Then she hurled it through the bathroom door, being rewarded with a loud crash, and leaned over Severus for their first kiss.
It was everything she had hoped for. All those stupid Romances that Lavender spent her time reading were right after all - after Ron she had doubted it - there were butterflies in her stomach. It turned out that the books were also right about a whole range of other things. Her knees actually went weak, and she tipped over into the bath. Severus didn't seem to mind the company.
He muttered, "I think you broke my mirror."
"Bugger your mirror."
"Good point, well made."
Very little was said for the next few minutes, which passed in a very satisfying fashion. Severus very kindly helped Hermione out of her wet towel. As he pointed out, it wasn't very sensible to wear it in the bath, and Hermione had always prided herself on being sensible.
It landed on the bathroom floor with a squelch. Hermione briefly stopped exploring Severus's mouth with her tongue to comment that there was going to be a hell of a mess for the houselves to clear up.
"Bugger the houselves," he said.
"Good point, well made." Hermione, devoted campaigner of house elf rights had for once decided that there was something more important than equality and freedom - what Ron would call a bloody good knobbing. And whilst Hermione had a wholly unsuspected romantic streak, she was bright enough to realise that that was what she wanted. Romance in the form of flowers and chocolates would be very welcome - a point she intended to make very clear to Severus in due course - but right now she had more important matters in hand.
Very much to hand.
Severus had his head tipped back on the edge of the bath, and was drawing in desperate breaths through his open mouth.
"Do you like that, Severus?" she asked in what she hoped was a sultry tone.
He opened one eye, fixed her with his best potions master glare and replied, "If you could refrain from asking questions when the answer should be obvious to even the meanest intellect I would be very grateful, Miss Granger." It would have been more impressive if he hadn't been badly out of breath.
She stopped what she was doing.
Both eyes opened. Little Slytherin brain cells were clearly ticking over behind those glittering eyes. Should she be worried? He smirked. She definitely ought to be worried.
Then he was rolling her underneath him as a great wave of water surged out of the tub, and fitting his body to her and then in her. There was a few crowded moments before they found the best way to move together.
She rather expected him to pay her back in kind, but it seemed that if this had been his intention he had changed his mind. For which mercy much thanks, she thought vaguely before giving up thinking up completely.
She had expected him to make love like he made his potions, with quiet intensity and careful attention to detail. Instead, he was passionate and wild, with hands that wandered everywhere, and a mouth that had attached itself to her neck with an enthusiasm that was going to leave marks.
She came just before he did, and as they lay their in the afterglow they became aware of just how chilly the water had become, and just how little of it was left in the bath.
He huffed at the hair that was dangling in his face, so she tucked it back behind his ear. He leaned forward again and half-whispered half-growled in her ear, "Did you like that, Hermione?"
She toyed with the idea of saying something witty, but, based on her limited experiences with Ron, this was probably not the time to make a joke so she contented herself with heartfelt assurances. "You were absolutely fcuking fabulous, Severus."
He levered himself out of the bath, and then gave her a helping hand out. They surveyed the wreck of the room ruefully. There were sopping towels everywhere, little cotton islands in a sea of water.
"It's way past curfew," he said, "and you should be in bed."
"I know," she said, picking up her clothes, trying to work out the best way back to Gryffindor Tower.
He moved across to her, plucked the clothes from her hands, and threw them across the room where they landed in a puddle.
"I didn't say whose bed, now did I?
She wasn't a virgin, the war had tended to concentrate everyone's minds in the direction of sex. This didn't mean that she was well versed in the art of seduction thought. All it had taken to get Ron into bed was the simple question, "Look do you want to die a virgin, because I don't?" Apparently he had been so impressed with the line that he had used to great success several times himself, mainly on Hufflepuffs. No self-respecting Slytherin would admit to being a virgin, and no self-respecting Ravenclaw would say anything other than, "Given the choices available to me, yes!"
He hadn't been very good the first time, but she had made him keep going until he got it right, despite his complaints that he hadn't expected sex to be conducted as though it were a NEWT. For a couple of days after that he had given her a very wide berth with a wild look in his eyes, but he calmed down a little when she informed him that she had only been using him for sex. Occasionally she would catch him giving her looks of bewilderment, but now he had a girlfriend he seemed less jumpy.
Hermione thought that his girlfriend had a lot to thank her for. By the tenth time he was actually getting to be quite good.
Having now secured Severus's agreement to being seduced, she had absolutely no idea how to go about it. Running from the room in terror was not an option, however tempting it might seem at the moment. She was a Gryffindor. She was brave. She also thought Severus would never forgive her. It certainly wasn't the action of the mature, sensible adult she had been trying to argue she should be treated as.
Severus was looking at her oddly. Obviously she had to do something, and quickly. She wrapped a towel round herself. She took a deep breath, stepped closer to the tub, and picked up the backscrubber. Then she hurled it through the bathroom door, being rewarded with a loud crash, and leaned over Severus for their first kiss.
It was everything she had hoped for. All those stupid Romances that Lavender spent her time reading were right after all - after Ron she had doubted it - there were butterflies in her stomach. It turned out that the books were also right about a whole range of other things. Her knees actually went weak, and she tipped over into the bath. Severus didn't seem to mind the company.
He muttered, "I think you broke my mirror."
"Bugger your mirror."
"Good point, well made."
Very little was said for the next few minutes, which passed in a very satisfying fashion. Severus very kindly helped Hermione out of her wet towel. As he pointed out, it wasn't very sensible to wear it in the bath, and Hermione had always prided herself on being sensible.
It landed on the bathroom floor with a squelch. Hermione briefly stopped exploring Severus's mouth with her tongue to comment that there was going to be a hell of a mess for the houselves to clear up.
"Bugger the houselves," he said.
"Good point, well made." Hermione, devoted campaigner of house elf rights had for once decided that there was something more important than equality and freedom - what Ron would call a bloody good knobbing. And whilst Hermione had a wholly unsuspected romantic streak, she was bright enough to realise that that was what she wanted. Romance in the form of flowers and chocolates would be very welcome - a point she intended to make very clear to Severus in due course - but right now she had more important matters in hand.
Very much to hand.
Severus had his head tipped back on the edge of the bath, and was drawing in desperate breaths through his open mouth.
"Do you like that, Severus?" she asked in what she hoped was a sultry tone.
He opened one eye, fixed her with his best potions master glare and replied, "If you could refrain from asking questions when the answer should be obvious to even the meanest intellect I would be very grateful, Miss Granger." It would have been more impressive if he hadn't been badly out of breath.
She stopped what she was doing.
Both eyes opened. Little Slytherin brain cells were clearly ticking over behind those glittering eyes. Should she be worried? He smirked. She definitely ought to be worried.
Then he was rolling her underneath him as a great wave of water surged out of the tub, and fitting his body to her and then in her. There was a few crowded moments before they found the best way to move together.
She rather expected him to pay her back in kind, but it seemed that if this had been his intention he had changed his mind. For which mercy much thanks, she thought vaguely before giving up thinking up completely.
She had expected him to make love like he made his potions, with quiet intensity and careful attention to detail. Instead, he was passionate and wild, with hands that wandered everywhere, and a mouth that had attached itself to her neck with an enthusiasm that was going to leave marks.
She came just before he did, and as they lay their in the afterglow they became aware of just how chilly the water had become, and just how little of it was left in the bath.
He huffed at the hair that was dangling in his face, so she tucked it back behind his ear. He leaned forward again and half-whispered half-growled in her ear, "Did you like that, Hermione?"
She toyed with the idea of saying something witty, but, based on her limited experiences with Ron, this was probably not the time to make a joke so she contented herself with heartfelt assurances. "You were absolutely fcuking fabulous, Severus."
He levered himself out of the bath, and then gave her a helping hand out. They surveyed the wreck of the room ruefully. There were sopping towels everywhere, little cotton islands in a sea of water.
"It's way past curfew," he said, "and you should be in bed."
"I know," she said, picking up her clothes, trying to work out the best way back to Gryffindor Tower.
He moved across to her, plucked the clothes from her hands, and threw them across the room where they landed in a puddle.
"I didn't say whose bed, now did I?
