Moon River
Chapter Two
-
Light. Blistering, white light. Infuriatingly bright white light was searing at her eyelids.
Groaning, Hermione wiped at her eyes, and when she drew her hands away they were covered in
eye makeup.
Now where was she that she could not keep up her regimen of makeup removal, exfoliation and
moisturization?
She sat up quickly, glancing around. She was in a room unfamiliar to her. Large windows gazed
out to the sea, and gauzy white curtains fanned in the breeze. In fact, everything in the room, it
seemed, was blindingly white. The only thing that relieved her eyes was the light, oaken floor and
her black dress, thrown onto the floor in a haphazard heap, her shoes nearby. Oh Gods. Where
were her underwear...? They weren't on her...
Next to her, the man from the bar was sound asleep, softly snoring. Ah....so that's where she
was. Now she remembered. Gods, he was an Adonis. Why had he picked her up at Moon River
last night? His shoulders were broad, and muscular...so that's how he'd been able to pick her up
and throw her into bed last night. She blushed as she remembered.
His back was laced with scars...she wondered what they were from. Gently, she traced them with
the tip of her finger, not knowing that in his slumbered mind, she was curing him of his past. She
ran her fingers through his soft, black, fine hair. It was shiny, probably healthier than her own.
Speaking of her hair...it felt nappy. She felt hot and sweaty and there was a distinct stickiness
between her legs and on her thighs. Ahh. The not-so-joyous afterness of sex. They certainly
didn't tend to cover this part in the novels. Being careful not to wake him, Hermione wrapped
herself up in the sheet, leaving him covered in the feather down coverlet. After carefully climbing
out of the bed, she quietly tiptoed out of the room.
The house was vast. It took her several tries of opening doors and tiptoe-ing around to find the
bathroom. But when she did, was she ever glad. The shower was very, VERY nice...it had seven
different heads at staggered levels, blasting jets of hot water, it seemed, everywhere it was
needed. Using her wand, she conjured up shampoo, conditioner, and soap - just the bare basics.
She was sore, very sore...five years of chastity had reduced her to near-virgin status, or so it
seemed. She didn't feel like casting a pain-relief charm though. The pain, she thought, was kind
of a reminder of her erotic frolics.
She giggled. Last night...what she remembered anyhow...was mind-blowing. It was far different
from the dutiful sex she'd offered to Ron. It was sensuous, multiple-orgasms sex. And she didn't
even know his name.
You wanted excitement, Hermione Granger, she thought. And excitement was certainly what you
got, girl!
---
After showering, Hermione went back into the bedroom, still wrapped in the sheet, to seek out
her mysterious lover. However, she found he wasn't there. One of his button-up shirts lay on the
bed, along with a pair of his trousers. A note. "Put this on. I doubt you want to parade around
in an evening dress."
Smiling, she slipped on the shirt, and then put on the trousers. They fit her rather nice, she
thought, giggling at the sight of herself in the mirror. The pants were far too long, trailing the
floor, and she stepped on them when she walked. The shirt's arms went past her fingertips, and
pulled tight across her bust.
"Hello?" she called, stepping out into the hall. Her voice echoed.
"Down here! First right at the bottom of the stairs, my dear."
"All right," she called back, beginning to descend the stairs. She was slightly nervous about
seeing him for the first time after their night of passion. It had to happen sometime, though. She
was famished, and beginning to get light-headed. When had she last eaten...? Had she eaten at all
yesterday?
Why was the staircase moving?
She blacked out and fell down the last four steps.
---
Hearing her tumble down the stairs, the man she had spent the night with came running out of the
dining room. "Oh no," he groaned. He ran to her, checking her for any obvious signs of injuries.
Finding none, he concluded she had fainted. Conjuring up a cold, damp washcloth, he began to
wipe her brow, hoping to revive her.
He had begun to feel slightly nervous when he suddenly heard a distinct moan escape her lips. He
breathed a sigh of relief. One thing he certainly did not want was a terribly injured young woman
on his hands.
Laying the washcloth across her brow, he stroked her hair. "Wake, my dear. You've had a fall."
"I what?" she moaned, her eyes still closed. "Oh, man. My bum hurts."
The man softly chuckled. "You haven't sprained your ankle, like the women do in the books?"
"No, I think I just have a large bruise on my arse."
They both had a good laugh over this. She sighed, opening her eyes, to stare at the high, templed
ceiling. "This is so beautiful. I'm not sure when I've ever felt more at peace." She looked at him
directly now. "I..." She stopped suddenly.
"What's wrong?" he asked, looking at her, concerned.
"Who...who...who are you?" She stuttered, quickly buttoning up her shirt to her neck.
"Is that important?" he asked, nuzzling her neck.
She quickly pushed him off. "Do you know who I am?"
"A most adept lover?"
"No." she said flatly. "I am Hermione Granger, former Head Girl at Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry. I currently own my own business. And you, sir, are Severus Snape,
Potions Master and Deputy Headmaster at the same school I attended."
He sat and stared with his eyes wide.
"And now..." she said carefully, "I think I should collect my things and take my leave."
---
A/N - will he let her leave, or beg her to stay, or something else? ...dun dun dun... review!
-Alicia Jennings, who graduates THIS SUNDAY
PS I don't know what's up with the format...I hope this chapter is better than the last.
Chapter Two
-
Light. Blistering, white light. Infuriatingly bright white light was searing at her eyelids.
Groaning, Hermione wiped at her eyes, and when she drew her hands away they were covered in
eye makeup.
Now where was she that she could not keep up her regimen of makeup removal, exfoliation and
moisturization?
She sat up quickly, glancing around. She was in a room unfamiliar to her. Large windows gazed
out to the sea, and gauzy white curtains fanned in the breeze. In fact, everything in the room, it
seemed, was blindingly white. The only thing that relieved her eyes was the light, oaken floor and
her black dress, thrown onto the floor in a haphazard heap, her shoes nearby. Oh Gods. Where
were her underwear...? They weren't on her...
Next to her, the man from the bar was sound asleep, softly snoring. Ah....so that's where she
was. Now she remembered. Gods, he was an Adonis. Why had he picked her up at Moon River
last night? His shoulders were broad, and muscular...so that's how he'd been able to pick her up
and throw her into bed last night. She blushed as she remembered.
His back was laced with scars...she wondered what they were from. Gently, she traced them with
the tip of her finger, not knowing that in his slumbered mind, she was curing him of his past. She
ran her fingers through his soft, black, fine hair. It was shiny, probably healthier than her own.
Speaking of her hair...it felt nappy. She felt hot and sweaty and there was a distinct stickiness
between her legs and on her thighs. Ahh. The not-so-joyous afterness of sex. They certainly
didn't tend to cover this part in the novels. Being careful not to wake him, Hermione wrapped
herself up in the sheet, leaving him covered in the feather down coverlet. After carefully climbing
out of the bed, she quietly tiptoed out of the room.
The house was vast. It took her several tries of opening doors and tiptoe-ing around to find the
bathroom. But when she did, was she ever glad. The shower was very, VERY nice...it had seven
different heads at staggered levels, blasting jets of hot water, it seemed, everywhere it was
needed. Using her wand, she conjured up shampoo, conditioner, and soap - just the bare basics.
She was sore, very sore...five years of chastity had reduced her to near-virgin status, or so it
seemed. She didn't feel like casting a pain-relief charm though. The pain, she thought, was kind
of a reminder of her erotic frolics.
She giggled. Last night...what she remembered anyhow...was mind-blowing. It was far different
from the dutiful sex she'd offered to Ron. It was sensuous, multiple-orgasms sex. And she didn't
even know his name.
You wanted excitement, Hermione Granger, she thought. And excitement was certainly what you
got, girl!
---
After showering, Hermione went back into the bedroom, still wrapped in the sheet, to seek out
her mysterious lover. However, she found he wasn't there. One of his button-up shirts lay on the
bed, along with a pair of his trousers. A note. "Put this on. I doubt you want to parade around
in an evening dress."
Smiling, she slipped on the shirt, and then put on the trousers. They fit her rather nice, she
thought, giggling at the sight of herself in the mirror. The pants were far too long, trailing the
floor, and she stepped on them when she walked. The shirt's arms went past her fingertips, and
pulled tight across her bust.
"Hello?" she called, stepping out into the hall. Her voice echoed.
"Down here! First right at the bottom of the stairs, my dear."
"All right," she called back, beginning to descend the stairs. She was slightly nervous about
seeing him for the first time after their night of passion. It had to happen sometime, though. She
was famished, and beginning to get light-headed. When had she last eaten...? Had she eaten at all
yesterday?
Why was the staircase moving?
She blacked out and fell down the last four steps.
---
Hearing her tumble down the stairs, the man she had spent the night with came running out of the
dining room. "Oh no," he groaned. He ran to her, checking her for any obvious signs of injuries.
Finding none, he concluded she had fainted. Conjuring up a cold, damp washcloth, he began to
wipe her brow, hoping to revive her.
He had begun to feel slightly nervous when he suddenly heard a distinct moan escape her lips. He
breathed a sigh of relief. One thing he certainly did not want was a terribly injured young woman
on his hands.
Laying the washcloth across her brow, he stroked her hair. "Wake, my dear. You've had a fall."
"I what?" she moaned, her eyes still closed. "Oh, man. My bum hurts."
The man softly chuckled. "You haven't sprained your ankle, like the women do in the books?"
"No, I think I just have a large bruise on my arse."
They both had a good laugh over this. She sighed, opening her eyes, to stare at the high, templed
ceiling. "This is so beautiful. I'm not sure when I've ever felt more at peace." She looked at him
directly now. "I..." She stopped suddenly.
"What's wrong?" he asked, looking at her, concerned.
"Who...who...who are you?" She stuttered, quickly buttoning up her shirt to her neck.
"Is that important?" he asked, nuzzling her neck.
She quickly pushed him off. "Do you know who I am?"
"A most adept lover?"
"No." she said flatly. "I am Hermione Granger, former Head Girl at Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry. I currently own my own business. And you, sir, are Severus Snape,
Potions Master and Deputy Headmaster at the same school I attended."
He sat and stared with his eyes wide.
"And now..." she said carefully, "I think I should collect my things and take my leave."
---
A/N - will he let her leave, or beg her to stay, or something else? ...dun dun dun... review!
-Alicia Jennings, who graduates THIS SUNDAY
PS I don't know what's up with the format...I hope this chapter is better than the last.