Chapter Thirty Nine a path of cinders
The birthday party was perfectly wonderful. The staff had put a lot of effort into making their newest member feel welcomed and at home, and the staff room had been decorated just as nicely as if her own parents had taken care of it. The food consisted of all her favourites, care of the knowledgable house elves, and the company was at its most celubrious, care of Professor Flitwick's talents with punch.
Snape watched Hermione from a corner. He would leave soon, but he would drink in her presence for just a moment more. He felt like he was in a desert.
She had confronted him about his kissing her, and she was perfectly right. He had realised this just before he had ventured up to the staff room with his peace offering. The whole situation between them was mad, and only got worse every time he thought about it. Which was why he didn't like to think about it.
Hermione Granger was a young girl with a bright mind and an even brighter future, if nothing came along to drag her down. She was also, and today's conversation had only highlighted this for Snape, given to caring for others. There were others that would in turn care for her, and this was why he was removing himself from her presence, to allow them to do so. He was definitely going to leave... in just a minute.
Snape sighed and put down his drink as he saw Sirius Black make his way over to the birthday girl. The man put his arm around her shoulders in a friendly hug. Snape very slowly took his hand off his glass, resisting the urge to break it, and turned toward the door.
***
Hermione felt angry, but she wasn't exactly sure why. The staff of Hogwarts had certainly done their best to please her, and, if she stepped back from herself for a moment, she could certainly appreciate it. Sirius was currently doing his best to entertain her, and there was no reason she should not be entertained. It was a wonderful party.
Her anger had nothing to do with the fact that Snape had yet to show his face, or that she hadn't seen him since this afternoon. Her feeling of unease had nothing to do with him or their last conversation at all. The idea that he had subtly warned her off, lurking in the back of her mind, was not what was disturbing her.
Actually, it really wasn't any of this. Hermione was uncertain of herself. This was a rare occurrence, and it irritated her no end.
With a polite word to Sirius, Hermione excused herself from the conversation and went over to the long table which held the food and drinks for the party. The house elves had worked hard on providing all her favourite foods, but none of them really tempted her. She felt distracted, as though there was something she should be doing.
She allowed herself to move with the flow of the party, mixing in conversations until the hour grew late. Eventually, when she felt it wouldn't be noticed, she slipped out. She needed some time to think.
She was outside before she realised it was raining. Storms had always excited her, the power of them thrashing around overhead. There seemed to be some sort of magic in them - probably something Ailie could have told her about, if she had remained. Hermione shook her head, unwilling to let the memory make her sad. The rain was cold, banishing the warmth of the castle, and it only lashed against her for a second before she decided to wander within instead. The castle had corridors enough to give her time to think. She let her feet take her where they pleased, not very surprised when they led her down.
Before she realised it, she was in the potions classroom.
***
Snape stalked wearily up and down the length of his chamber. He could hear the beginnings of a fine summer storm begin to patter at his window, the sound soothing him somewhat.
The party would be nearing its end now, its participants giddy with too much spiked punch and getting friendlier by the minute. He had known Sirius Black for more years than he cared to remember, and knew that the other man was very much interested in Hermione. As much as he hated to admit it, the damned dog would be good for her. The party would be nearing its end. Everyone would be heading off to bed... He really didn't want to think about it.
In need of distraction, Snape strode over to the door. It usually calmed him to inspect his stores, the soothing rhythm of noting down the precise amount of each ingredient and the calm smell of dust around him. A walk would be better, but he didn't dare venture into the corridors upstairs at this particular moment.
The dungeon's few high windows flashed with the storm as he entered the classroom. He walked over to the wall and peered up at the grimy window, his eyes taking a few moments to adjust to the flash of light and dark outside. The storm was going at full speed now, throwing a tantrum at the sky. When he had been small, Snape had invented stories for the lightning, pretending that the ancient Greek gods were playing games across the sky. He had never told anyone that. He blinked. There seemed one shadow in this room that was darker than the rest. He blinked again, forcing his eyes to readjust, making out a dim figure against the velvet dark. His eyebrows raised as he recognised the stare reflected back at him.
So... she was here. Really, he didn't know why he was surprised.
He walked closer, noting that she appeared to be wet.
'You've been walking in the rain,' he said, his voice breaking the dim silence of the room.
She shrugged. 'Not really. I just opened the door for a walk outside when the rain got to me. It's a wonderful storm out there.'
Snape inclined his head, noting the trail of a rain drop as it left her hair and ran down her neck. 'You'll catch cold,' was all he could think of to say.
'Good thing you gave Poppy a supply of pepper-up potion.' A small smile lit her face. She shifted, her legs dangling over the edge of the desk. It was so dark in between the flashes of lightning that Snape could barely see her, the darkness embracing them both and making him feel he was almost touching her.
'I came down here to think,' Hermione explained after a moment's silence. He heard her give a small sigh. 'I don't know what to make of you, Snape.' There was a tinge of disappointment and hurt underlying her words that made Snape feel injured.
'Strange as it may seem,' he said, leaning on the desk next to her, 'I don't actually like it when you say my name that way.'
Hermione looked at him, confused. 'Snape,' he elucidated. 'One syllable, beginning with a sibilant. When you pronounce it, it sounds... bitter.' He looked away into the velvet black, slightly embarrassed at unwaringly dissecting such a part of himself.
'It's the nature of the name,' said Hermione, her voice low. 'You can't help but snap it out. But your first name...' She reached up and pushed a wet tendril of hair out of her face. 'Your first name invites gentleness. Sev-er-us...' She glanced at him, giving him a small smile. Snape felt a shiver wind its way down his spine. 'The two names together aren't a bad summation, really.'
Snape gave a short laugh. 'Next you'll be telling me I'm made of sugar and spice...' he drifted off, raising a challenging eyebrow.
She shook her head. 'It's slugs and snails, Severus. Haven't you ever read that nursery rhyme properly?' Seeing something in his face, Hermione shrugged again. 'But slugs and snails make good potions ingredients. And sugar and spice are meaningless garnish.' Her smile was gentle.
Snape looked down at her face, still slightly damp from the rain, and felt something give way inside him.
'You know, you asked me something very interesting once,' he said softly. A flash of lightning lit up the window, highlighting Hermione's wild brown hair plastered against her skin. She was beautiful; he could admit that to himself now.
Hermione smiled breathlessly, the first time she had ever really smiled for him, one of those thousand-watt smiles he had seen her bestow with careless caution on friends and strangers a thousand times. Snape reached out and smoothed a strand of hair away from her face, surprised when her eyelids lowered and she leant into his hand, turning it into a caress. He felt shaken.
She looked up at him beneath her lashes, and leant forward slightly. Snape hesitated. There was an unasked question here, but he wasn't sure how dangerous it could be to answer it. Hermione sensed his hesitation, and smiled at him reassuringly. 'A birthday present,' she whispered wetly.
Snape inhaled the scent of her, the sweet rain clinging to her own pure smell; cinnamon, nutmeg and the cool blue ocean all in one. His eyes met hers, searching each other out in the uncertain dark. 'As it's a special occasion,' he murmured, before placing his hands on her arms and pulling her to him.
When his lips tasted hers they were cool and refreshing as a glass of lemonade on a hot day. He felt her lips part beneath his, welcoming him. There seemed to be no interval between kissing her and devouring her; the instant his lips touched on hers it was like a spring had been let loose, freeing him to taste her and need her as much as he wanted.
The world seemed to close down to the feel and smell and taste of her, the warmth of her in his arms. Her hands edged their way up his shoulders, wrapping around him and urging him closer. He had no desire to resist. Having her in his arms was like a taste of heaven, feeling her so willingly pressed against him, as if her need was as great as his own.
The thought made his blood pound even harder. He shifted her in his arms, and felt Hermione's slim wet body pressed up against his, her legs wrapping themselves around him with an innocent urgency. They clung to each other like the world was falling down, trying to squeeze out every molecule between them, trying to crawl into each other. Snape felt a desperation like he had never felt before. He couldn't think enough to breathe, couldn't think enough to guide his actions, wanted, needed...
How long they remained that way he didn't know. The only acceptable messages being sent by his brain were those of the senses; the way she tasted, the way she felt. As their breathing quickened, she moved against him, and for a moment he thought she was going to push him away. She slid off the desk, pushing him backward toward the door as her hands began to roam over him.
'Bedroom,' she gasped as she broke off their kiss. 'Now.' Snape had little time to think as she pulled him back down for another mind-boggling kiss, but some form of sanity nudged him as she began to undo the buttons of his shirt.
'Hermione...' he warned, but was silenced by a nip at his collarbone.
'Now, Severus, please,' she moaned, slipping her hands into his shirt and kissing him again, removing all possibility of thought. He clutched her to him, and they began to edge toward the door to his rooms, rubbing desperately against each other.
As soon as they entered his bedroom, Hermione dragged him toward the bed, pulling him on top of her, squirming with need. Her legs wrapped themselves around him again, joining them tightly together in all the right places. Snape wanted to moan as he felt her shift beneath him and wished he could remember the charm for the removal of clothes just so he could slide into her. His head was abuzz with her kisses. Her lips seemed to drug him, yet he couldn't get enough.
Slowly, subtly, their desperation melted into something more gentle. Their kisses became longer, more inquisitive. Snape revelled at the feel of her in his arms, her hands holding him to her. He felt her lips on his neck, tickling, biting. He ran his hands over her damp hair, smoothing it back from her face and looking into her eyes. She was so beautiful, he thought, a rush of something identifiable threatening to overwhelm him. He lowered his head for a tender kiss in place of speaking.
Hunger came again, but this time with a slow burning need untinged by desperation. Snape felt Hermione's inquisitive hands slide under the hem of his shirt, moulding the skin of his back. He smiled into her mouth. The feeling she was giving him was one that could only be described as sweet. He moved his thigh, rubbing against her, and relished the little moan that reverberated through her. He shifted slightly, deliberately, and nibbled at her lip as she sighed. She returned the movement, nudging his achingly hard erection with her hip, and he bit back a growl. Her little hands slid along his skin to the front of the shirt, stretching it taut, and Snape watched amusedly as Hermione pulled back, a little frown on her forehead, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of the shirt. He pressed against her again, forcing a delightful whimper out of her, forcing her hands to contract into fists as she clutched his shirt. With a wicked glint in her eye Hermione returned the pressure, making Snape's head reel with pleasure. With a frustrated snort Hermione tugged at the two sides of his shirt, and Snape heard material tear before he felt the blissful ecstasy of her hands and lips upon his bare chest.
'Hermione...' he whispered as her hot mouth made its way up his neck. Needing her kiss, Snape ducked his head and caught her lips with his, running his hands over the length of her body desperately.
'Oh, Severus,' Hermione whispered as he moved away from her to work at the buttons of her dress, moving the skirt over her hips. Running his hands along her thighs he once again settled between her legs, and with a sigh of pleasure Hermione wrapped herself around him, enfolding him in her embrace.
'Say that again,' he whispered into her mouth, finally tugging her lovely body free of the wet dress.
'Severus,' she said, looking him in the eye. What he saw there both pleasured and frightened him. The sound of his given name on her lips sent a thrill through him that he couldn't define.
'Again,' he said roughly, running a hand down the side of her body, trailing his palm over one deliciously curved hip.
'Severusssss...' she whispered, closing her eyes in pleasure. 'Oh, Severus, Severus, please...'
Tingles went through him, hearing her entreating voice. He was dizzy, floating on a sea of pleasure. He took her lips again, felt her whisper his name. It made his head spin. She was so beautiful, so lovely, so perfect...
Her hot tongue darted into his mouth, driving him over the edge. Soon, they were free of their clothes, and Hermione's arms were wrapped around him again, cocooning him in a web of warmth. With her lips on his, Snape was incapable of anything but being engulfed in her, entranced by her, entrapped by her. Her silken legs wrapped around him, dainty feet sliding up his legs to urge his naked body closer, hands on his back pressing her to him tightly.
'Severus,' she whispered as his lips feathered kisses along her forehead, 'please...'
And then he was inside her, no time or space to wonder if this was right. It was right. Intertwined with her, caught up in her... forever.
***
Hermione shifted through the clinging folds of sleep, breathing in the scent of the man who held her. She tried to move her leg, only to find it trapped. Her eyes opened suddenly as she remembered where she was, and she smiled. Ah, yes. She rubbed her back up against the chest of the man holding her, her hips teasing his in the movement. The arm around her tightened and she heard a low growl.
'Have you never heard the phrase about poking a sleeping bear, Miss Granger?' a silken voice growled in her ear. Her smile widened.
'No,' she said, turning. 'Care to explain?' A dark smile lit her lover's face as he pulled her roughly to him and devoured her with kisses.
Hermione threw herself into the kiss, the torrent of emotion that had almost consumed her last time sweeping over her again. Never before had a simple kiss made her feel as if the world had stopped spinning. It robbed her breath from her.
She felt Snape's hand on her hip, and, wanting more contact, edged her leg over his. Ah, that was better. Why hadn't Ginny told her of the pure ecstasy of skin on skin? She would probably never want to wear clothes around Snape again.
Snape's knee crept between hers as their kisses got wilder, but Hermione wasn't having any of that. With more than a little insistence, she managed to wrap her legs around him, to feel him press against her once more.
The world descended, and Hermione felt a little part of her soul mix with his. The eternity she saw there left her breathless.
***
The beating of their hearts slowed from their frantic pace, and the room slowly came back into focus. The two lovers gradually let their holds on each other loosen, both a little startled by what had happened.
'That wasn't just sex, was it,' Hermione said in a flat tone.
It was a rhetorical question, but Severus, with the adrenaline and utter magical ecstasy still surging through his veins, felt the need to answer. 'No. That wasn't.'
'Ailie?' she asked. It took a few moments for Snape to realise what the question was.
Slowly, he nodded. Of course. Ailie's blood had been so potent when it had linked the two of them, it was to be expected that whatever now remained in his bloodstream would have a similar effect when he shared blood with someone else. It gives a whole new meaning to the term 'safe sex'... Oh, dear...
'Oh, dear,' Hermione said, her voice still without expression. The fact that she was now echoing his thoughts added weight to the conviction slowly dawning in his mind.
'Not again,' Snape said despondently.
Before he could react, Hermione had wrenched herself from his side, taking the sheet with her. With a terse command, she summoned her clothing from the floor and disappeared into the bathroom. The door closed itself behind her, leaving Snape to stare at it, rather muzzily in admiration for the obvious progress in Hermione's command of wandless magic. When he had been her age...
Oh, dear. He had just had sex with a twenty-year-old. Barely that, even. 'A birthday present' indeed. And she had been a virgin- he had not only managed to seduce a child, but an innocent one. A new achievement, even for him.
Cursing Ron Weasley for not having done the thing he had been suspecting him of all these years, Snape began to find his clothes. His mood was not improved by the state of his ragged shirt, which looked like it had had an argument with a razor-wire fence.
Hermione was still in the bathroom when he finished, and the silent accusation of the ravaged room was beginning to make him feel guilty. Mustering up his courage and reminding himself of his mature years, Snape edged toward the firmly closed door, and tapped softly.
When there was no answer, he tapped again. Drat. She was upset.
'Er- Miss Gr-' Damn. 'Hermione,' he said, hoping that she would relieve him of his misery and at least open the door. When she didn't, he was forced to continue conversing with the wooded grain of the door.
'Hermione, I'm- I have to apologise. I had no right to do what I did, and you have every right to be angry. Believe me, if I had known that- if I had remembered,' he half-said to himself. 'I really had no idea that Ailie's blood would still be as potent, and I take full responsibility for the outcome. Not that that makes it better, after all I had no right to- do what I did in the first place, and for that I must heartily apologise...'
There was no response from the room within, and Snape began to feel the ridiculousness of the situation.
'Hermione, if you would just open the door- I'm certain that we should discuss this-'
A slow suspicion began to dawn over Snape. There was an emptiness to the space behind this door, he instinctively felt. Assuring himself it was for her safety anyway, he unlocked the door with his wand, and hesitantly pushed the door open.
'Hermione... Ah.' Snape found himself standing in a bathroom that was equipped with all the necessities one could possibly need- bath, sink, shower, toilet, bathrail- but was totally and utterly devoid of the one thing necessary for him to continue his apology.
Hermione.
The birthday party was perfectly wonderful. The staff had put a lot of effort into making their newest member feel welcomed and at home, and the staff room had been decorated just as nicely as if her own parents had taken care of it. The food consisted of all her favourites, care of the knowledgable house elves, and the company was at its most celubrious, care of Professor Flitwick's talents with punch.
Snape watched Hermione from a corner. He would leave soon, but he would drink in her presence for just a moment more. He felt like he was in a desert.
She had confronted him about his kissing her, and she was perfectly right. He had realised this just before he had ventured up to the staff room with his peace offering. The whole situation between them was mad, and only got worse every time he thought about it. Which was why he didn't like to think about it.
Hermione Granger was a young girl with a bright mind and an even brighter future, if nothing came along to drag her down. She was also, and today's conversation had only highlighted this for Snape, given to caring for others. There were others that would in turn care for her, and this was why he was removing himself from her presence, to allow them to do so. He was definitely going to leave... in just a minute.
Snape sighed and put down his drink as he saw Sirius Black make his way over to the birthday girl. The man put his arm around her shoulders in a friendly hug. Snape very slowly took his hand off his glass, resisting the urge to break it, and turned toward the door.
***
Hermione felt angry, but she wasn't exactly sure why. The staff of Hogwarts had certainly done their best to please her, and, if she stepped back from herself for a moment, she could certainly appreciate it. Sirius was currently doing his best to entertain her, and there was no reason she should not be entertained. It was a wonderful party.
Her anger had nothing to do with the fact that Snape had yet to show his face, or that she hadn't seen him since this afternoon. Her feeling of unease had nothing to do with him or their last conversation at all. The idea that he had subtly warned her off, lurking in the back of her mind, was not what was disturbing her.
Actually, it really wasn't any of this. Hermione was uncertain of herself. This was a rare occurrence, and it irritated her no end.
With a polite word to Sirius, Hermione excused herself from the conversation and went over to the long table which held the food and drinks for the party. The house elves had worked hard on providing all her favourite foods, but none of them really tempted her. She felt distracted, as though there was something she should be doing.
She allowed herself to move with the flow of the party, mixing in conversations until the hour grew late. Eventually, when she felt it wouldn't be noticed, she slipped out. She needed some time to think.
She was outside before she realised it was raining. Storms had always excited her, the power of them thrashing around overhead. There seemed to be some sort of magic in them - probably something Ailie could have told her about, if she had remained. Hermione shook her head, unwilling to let the memory make her sad. The rain was cold, banishing the warmth of the castle, and it only lashed against her for a second before she decided to wander within instead. The castle had corridors enough to give her time to think. She let her feet take her where they pleased, not very surprised when they led her down.
Before she realised it, she was in the potions classroom.
***
Snape stalked wearily up and down the length of his chamber. He could hear the beginnings of a fine summer storm begin to patter at his window, the sound soothing him somewhat.
The party would be nearing its end now, its participants giddy with too much spiked punch and getting friendlier by the minute. He had known Sirius Black for more years than he cared to remember, and knew that the other man was very much interested in Hermione. As much as he hated to admit it, the damned dog would be good for her. The party would be nearing its end. Everyone would be heading off to bed... He really didn't want to think about it.
In need of distraction, Snape strode over to the door. It usually calmed him to inspect his stores, the soothing rhythm of noting down the precise amount of each ingredient and the calm smell of dust around him. A walk would be better, but he didn't dare venture into the corridors upstairs at this particular moment.
The dungeon's few high windows flashed with the storm as he entered the classroom. He walked over to the wall and peered up at the grimy window, his eyes taking a few moments to adjust to the flash of light and dark outside. The storm was going at full speed now, throwing a tantrum at the sky. When he had been small, Snape had invented stories for the lightning, pretending that the ancient Greek gods were playing games across the sky. He had never told anyone that. He blinked. There seemed one shadow in this room that was darker than the rest. He blinked again, forcing his eyes to readjust, making out a dim figure against the velvet dark. His eyebrows raised as he recognised the stare reflected back at him.
So... she was here. Really, he didn't know why he was surprised.
He walked closer, noting that she appeared to be wet.
'You've been walking in the rain,' he said, his voice breaking the dim silence of the room.
She shrugged. 'Not really. I just opened the door for a walk outside when the rain got to me. It's a wonderful storm out there.'
Snape inclined his head, noting the trail of a rain drop as it left her hair and ran down her neck. 'You'll catch cold,' was all he could think of to say.
'Good thing you gave Poppy a supply of pepper-up potion.' A small smile lit her face. She shifted, her legs dangling over the edge of the desk. It was so dark in between the flashes of lightning that Snape could barely see her, the darkness embracing them both and making him feel he was almost touching her.
'I came down here to think,' Hermione explained after a moment's silence. He heard her give a small sigh. 'I don't know what to make of you, Snape.' There was a tinge of disappointment and hurt underlying her words that made Snape feel injured.
'Strange as it may seem,' he said, leaning on the desk next to her, 'I don't actually like it when you say my name that way.'
Hermione looked at him, confused. 'Snape,' he elucidated. 'One syllable, beginning with a sibilant. When you pronounce it, it sounds... bitter.' He looked away into the velvet black, slightly embarrassed at unwaringly dissecting such a part of himself.
'It's the nature of the name,' said Hermione, her voice low. 'You can't help but snap it out. But your first name...' She reached up and pushed a wet tendril of hair out of her face. 'Your first name invites gentleness. Sev-er-us...' She glanced at him, giving him a small smile. Snape felt a shiver wind its way down his spine. 'The two names together aren't a bad summation, really.'
Snape gave a short laugh. 'Next you'll be telling me I'm made of sugar and spice...' he drifted off, raising a challenging eyebrow.
She shook her head. 'It's slugs and snails, Severus. Haven't you ever read that nursery rhyme properly?' Seeing something in his face, Hermione shrugged again. 'But slugs and snails make good potions ingredients. And sugar and spice are meaningless garnish.' Her smile was gentle.
Snape looked down at her face, still slightly damp from the rain, and felt something give way inside him.
'You know, you asked me something very interesting once,' he said softly. A flash of lightning lit up the window, highlighting Hermione's wild brown hair plastered against her skin. She was beautiful; he could admit that to himself now.
Hermione smiled breathlessly, the first time she had ever really smiled for him, one of those thousand-watt smiles he had seen her bestow with careless caution on friends and strangers a thousand times. Snape reached out and smoothed a strand of hair away from her face, surprised when her eyelids lowered and she leant into his hand, turning it into a caress. He felt shaken.
She looked up at him beneath her lashes, and leant forward slightly. Snape hesitated. There was an unasked question here, but he wasn't sure how dangerous it could be to answer it. Hermione sensed his hesitation, and smiled at him reassuringly. 'A birthday present,' she whispered wetly.
Snape inhaled the scent of her, the sweet rain clinging to her own pure smell; cinnamon, nutmeg and the cool blue ocean all in one. His eyes met hers, searching each other out in the uncertain dark. 'As it's a special occasion,' he murmured, before placing his hands on her arms and pulling her to him.
When his lips tasted hers they were cool and refreshing as a glass of lemonade on a hot day. He felt her lips part beneath his, welcoming him. There seemed to be no interval between kissing her and devouring her; the instant his lips touched on hers it was like a spring had been let loose, freeing him to taste her and need her as much as he wanted.
The world seemed to close down to the feel and smell and taste of her, the warmth of her in his arms. Her hands edged their way up his shoulders, wrapping around him and urging him closer. He had no desire to resist. Having her in his arms was like a taste of heaven, feeling her so willingly pressed against him, as if her need was as great as his own.
The thought made his blood pound even harder. He shifted her in his arms, and felt Hermione's slim wet body pressed up against his, her legs wrapping themselves around him with an innocent urgency. They clung to each other like the world was falling down, trying to squeeze out every molecule between them, trying to crawl into each other. Snape felt a desperation like he had never felt before. He couldn't think enough to breathe, couldn't think enough to guide his actions, wanted, needed...
How long they remained that way he didn't know. The only acceptable messages being sent by his brain were those of the senses; the way she tasted, the way she felt. As their breathing quickened, she moved against him, and for a moment he thought she was going to push him away. She slid off the desk, pushing him backward toward the door as her hands began to roam over him.
'Bedroom,' she gasped as she broke off their kiss. 'Now.' Snape had little time to think as she pulled him back down for another mind-boggling kiss, but some form of sanity nudged him as she began to undo the buttons of his shirt.
'Hermione...' he warned, but was silenced by a nip at his collarbone.
'Now, Severus, please,' she moaned, slipping her hands into his shirt and kissing him again, removing all possibility of thought. He clutched her to him, and they began to edge toward the door to his rooms, rubbing desperately against each other.
As soon as they entered his bedroom, Hermione dragged him toward the bed, pulling him on top of her, squirming with need. Her legs wrapped themselves around him again, joining them tightly together in all the right places. Snape wanted to moan as he felt her shift beneath him and wished he could remember the charm for the removal of clothes just so he could slide into her. His head was abuzz with her kisses. Her lips seemed to drug him, yet he couldn't get enough.
Slowly, subtly, their desperation melted into something more gentle. Their kisses became longer, more inquisitive. Snape revelled at the feel of her in his arms, her hands holding him to her. He felt her lips on his neck, tickling, biting. He ran his hands over her damp hair, smoothing it back from her face and looking into her eyes. She was so beautiful, he thought, a rush of something identifiable threatening to overwhelm him. He lowered his head for a tender kiss in place of speaking.
Hunger came again, but this time with a slow burning need untinged by desperation. Snape felt Hermione's inquisitive hands slide under the hem of his shirt, moulding the skin of his back. He smiled into her mouth. The feeling she was giving him was one that could only be described as sweet. He moved his thigh, rubbing against her, and relished the little moan that reverberated through her. He shifted slightly, deliberately, and nibbled at her lip as she sighed. She returned the movement, nudging his achingly hard erection with her hip, and he bit back a growl. Her little hands slid along his skin to the front of the shirt, stretching it taut, and Snape watched amusedly as Hermione pulled back, a little frown on her forehead, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of the shirt. He pressed against her again, forcing a delightful whimper out of her, forcing her hands to contract into fists as she clutched his shirt. With a wicked glint in her eye Hermione returned the pressure, making Snape's head reel with pleasure. With a frustrated snort Hermione tugged at the two sides of his shirt, and Snape heard material tear before he felt the blissful ecstasy of her hands and lips upon his bare chest.
'Hermione...' he whispered as her hot mouth made its way up his neck. Needing her kiss, Snape ducked his head and caught her lips with his, running his hands over the length of her body desperately.
'Oh, Severus,' Hermione whispered as he moved away from her to work at the buttons of her dress, moving the skirt over her hips. Running his hands along her thighs he once again settled between her legs, and with a sigh of pleasure Hermione wrapped herself around him, enfolding him in her embrace.
'Say that again,' he whispered into her mouth, finally tugging her lovely body free of the wet dress.
'Severus,' she said, looking him in the eye. What he saw there both pleasured and frightened him. The sound of his given name on her lips sent a thrill through him that he couldn't define.
'Again,' he said roughly, running a hand down the side of her body, trailing his palm over one deliciously curved hip.
'Severusssss...' she whispered, closing her eyes in pleasure. 'Oh, Severus, Severus, please...'
Tingles went through him, hearing her entreating voice. He was dizzy, floating on a sea of pleasure. He took her lips again, felt her whisper his name. It made his head spin. She was so beautiful, so lovely, so perfect...
Her hot tongue darted into his mouth, driving him over the edge. Soon, they were free of their clothes, and Hermione's arms were wrapped around him again, cocooning him in a web of warmth. With her lips on his, Snape was incapable of anything but being engulfed in her, entranced by her, entrapped by her. Her silken legs wrapped around him, dainty feet sliding up his legs to urge his naked body closer, hands on his back pressing her to him tightly.
'Severus,' she whispered as his lips feathered kisses along her forehead, 'please...'
And then he was inside her, no time or space to wonder if this was right. It was right. Intertwined with her, caught up in her... forever.
***
Hermione shifted through the clinging folds of sleep, breathing in the scent of the man who held her. She tried to move her leg, only to find it trapped. Her eyes opened suddenly as she remembered where she was, and she smiled. Ah, yes. She rubbed her back up against the chest of the man holding her, her hips teasing his in the movement. The arm around her tightened and she heard a low growl.
'Have you never heard the phrase about poking a sleeping bear, Miss Granger?' a silken voice growled in her ear. Her smile widened.
'No,' she said, turning. 'Care to explain?' A dark smile lit her lover's face as he pulled her roughly to him and devoured her with kisses.
Hermione threw herself into the kiss, the torrent of emotion that had almost consumed her last time sweeping over her again. Never before had a simple kiss made her feel as if the world had stopped spinning. It robbed her breath from her.
She felt Snape's hand on her hip, and, wanting more contact, edged her leg over his. Ah, that was better. Why hadn't Ginny told her of the pure ecstasy of skin on skin? She would probably never want to wear clothes around Snape again.
Snape's knee crept between hers as their kisses got wilder, but Hermione wasn't having any of that. With more than a little insistence, she managed to wrap her legs around him, to feel him press against her once more.
The world descended, and Hermione felt a little part of her soul mix with his. The eternity she saw there left her breathless.
***
The beating of their hearts slowed from their frantic pace, and the room slowly came back into focus. The two lovers gradually let their holds on each other loosen, both a little startled by what had happened.
'That wasn't just sex, was it,' Hermione said in a flat tone.
It was a rhetorical question, but Severus, with the adrenaline and utter magical ecstasy still surging through his veins, felt the need to answer. 'No. That wasn't.'
'Ailie?' she asked. It took a few moments for Snape to realise what the question was.
Slowly, he nodded. Of course. Ailie's blood had been so potent when it had linked the two of them, it was to be expected that whatever now remained in his bloodstream would have a similar effect when he shared blood with someone else. It gives a whole new meaning to the term 'safe sex'... Oh, dear...
'Oh, dear,' Hermione said, her voice still without expression. The fact that she was now echoing his thoughts added weight to the conviction slowly dawning in his mind.
'Not again,' Snape said despondently.
Before he could react, Hermione had wrenched herself from his side, taking the sheet with her. With a terse command, she summoned her clothing from the floor and disappeared into the bathroom. The door closed itself behind her, leaving Snape to stare at it, rather muzzily in admiration for the obvious progress in Hermione's command of wandless magic. When he had been her age...
Oh, dear. He had just had sex with a twenty-year-old. Barely that, even. 'A birthday present' indeed. And she had been a virgin- he had not only managed to seduce a child, but an innocent one. A new achievement, even for him.
Cursing Ron Weasley for not having done the thing he had been suspecting him of all these years, Snape began to find his clothes. His mood was not improved by the state of his ragged shirt, which looked like it had had an argument with a razor-wire fence.
Hermione was still in the bathroom when he finished, and the silent accusation of the ravaged room was beginning to make him feel guilty. Mustering up his courage and reminding himself of his mature years, Snape edged toward the firmly closed door, and tapped softly.
When there was no answer, he tapped again. Drat. She was upset.
'Er- Miss Gr-' Damn. 'Hermione,' he said, hoping that she would relieve him of his misery and at least open the door. When she didn't, he was forced to continue conversing with the wooded grain of the door.
'Hermione, I'm- I have to apologise. I had no right to do what I did, and you have every right to be angry. Believe me, if I had known that- if I had remembered,' he half-said to himself. 'I really had no idea that Ailie's blood would still be as potent, and I take full responsibility for the outcome. Not that that makes it better, after all I had no right to- do what I did in the first place, and for that I must heartily apologise...'
There was no response from the room within, and Snape began to feel the ridiculousness of the situation.
'Hermione, if you would just open the door- I'm certain that we should discuss this-'
A slow suspicion began to dawn over Snape. There was an emptiness to the space behind this door, he instinctively felt. Assuring himself it was for her safety anyway, he unlocked the door with his wand, and hesitantly pushed the door open.
'Hermione... Ah.' Snape found himself standing in a bathroom that was equipped with all the necessities one could possibly need- bath, sink, shower, toilet, bathrail- but was totally and utterly devoid of the one thing necessary for him to continue his apology.
Hermione.