Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me, all is due to the great JKR. Please
R&R in abundance.
Many apologies for not getting this uploaded sooner. My life has taken a rather busy turning. I am now the proud mother of a bouncing baby boy who is filling my every waking moment with his smiles.
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Touch guided his every move, as he stroked her, relishing the feel of her silken skin under his calloused fingertips. Hermione sighed gently, content to let him worship her, for the time being at least. The feeling of being slightly drugged increased, as her being centred on Severus, and the reality of life receded.
"Look at me, open your eyes Hermione." he grated, his large hands framing her face and holding her still under him. "Tell me, who am I Hermione. Who am I?" he questioned insistently, his desperate need to have her confirm his identity, to confirm that she was making a conscious decision to be with him, coloured his voice to a rich throaty rumble.
Hermione shivered with desire, but held his gaze, lifting her hips silently to rub against him, telling him only that she wanted him beyond all thought.
"No, I need to hear you say it! I need to know you make this choice. Who am I Hermione?" his voice thick with the strain of his control.
"Severus..." she whispered
"More!"
"You are Severus Snape."
"And.."
She smiled gently, understanding at last what he needed to hear from her.
"And you are the greasy, evil git who made my entire school life hell. You are the bully who makes Gryffindors feel awful, simply for your own amusement. You are the former death eater who gave his oath to the master of evil." she paused, keeping her eyes locked on his slightly shocked eyes. "And, you are the man who I desire more than any other. You are the bravest, most self sacrificing man I have ever known. You are the man who can make me feel a thousand conflicting emotions in the space of a heartbeat. You, Severus Snape, are the man I chose, the man I love." She paused again. Not willing to utter the words that, despite what the world thought of him, she would be proud to be with him. They were implied, and by the look in his eyes, she saw that he had heard them.
"I love you too." he murmured, as he slowly entered her, pushing deeper, never letting the intensity of their gaze diminish. Lowering his lips to hers he kissed her, sealing their unspoken pledge, binding them, each to the other.
The room was beginning to lighten, the flowered curtains letting the sun creep around their ill fitting edges. It was nearly day, and yet still he lay there, in her bed, with arms wrapped possessively around her sleeping form. A smile still lingered on his face, his mind reliving odd moments from his victory the night before. Wondering thoughts randomly threw up images of stunned colleagues when he broke the news of his impending marriage. The imagined look of horror on Minerva's face, made him chuckle, causing his sleeping lover to shift slightly in his arms. He shushed her back to sleep, letting his nose drift into her hair.
She was his; she had surrendered and in so doing had allowed him a most gracious Slytherin victory. His path had been well chosen, meticulously planned after the night of her betrayal. That hurt had been unexpected, but he had built upon his feelings, moulding them into his persona, using others perceptions of him to guide their beliefs, and ultimately to guide her actions.
It had not taken long to recover from the black despair which had descended on her betrayal. His innate Slytherin need for revenge had reared its ugly head, and his anger had seared away the despair. He had sat well into the night, plotting the path which would lead him to this point. He knew what his goal was; he just had to decide on a stratagem to persuade Hermione to reach it for herself.
The incident in the Headmaster's room had upset those plans for a while; he had never expected her to be quite so direct. His anger had not been feigned, at least not at first. Later when he had time alone, sitting before his fire, a glass of wine in his hand, he had smiled with delight at her approach. She would never make a Slytherin, he had mused, no finesse when it came to guiding the actions of another. She was most definitely a Gryffindor through and through; his Gryffindor, he smiled.
Hermione stirred, turning in his arms to snuggle against his chest, breathing in his scent as she settled contentedly back into a light doze. His Gryffindor, but he most certainly was her Slytherin, as captured by her, as she was by his arms. He stopped and gazed into her face, marvelling over the black sweep of her lashes, and wondered again if he had been too distracted to see the bigger picture. He had been so certain of his victory, he had not stopped to consider her moves in this game. For a quiet eternity he gazed at her, before pulling her close and whispering into her sleep tousled hair,
"A very satisfactory draw I believe Miss Granger."
In a quiet tower room, an old man with white hair sat, smiling into his mug of cocoa, content. Minerva looked at him askance, deeply distrustful of his innocent look.
"Well, are you going to tell me what you have meddled in now, it must be something big to generate such a smug smile?" the old witch asked, cupping her drink and sipping the hot foaming chocolate.
"Me?" the feigned innocence was not entirely convincing. "Well, I suppose I have done a little, a tiny bit" he clarified quite earnestly," of steering. But that little boat seems to be quite safe now." He snuggled into the sofa and smiled beatifically at the slightly tense witch next to him.
"Albus, please tell me you are not talking of Hermione. I'm not sure I can go through another of Severus' moods." She pulled away from him slightly, to stare over the top of her half moon spectacles, taking care not to spill her drink.
"Don't worry my dear. I'm sure that it has worked out this time. I'm not sure that they have truly realised the full ramifications of the Dreame, I mean the theory behind the practice of the spell, but, it seems to have produced the desired results." He smiled again, and waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.
"Sometimes Albus, I quite despair of you ever growing up! How can you sit there and make jokes about this. Hermione is, I presume from your suggestive attitude, back in the clutches of that man." She practically spat the last word. "Judging from his behaviour lately, I don't think it is safe for her to be anywhere near him. Not safe for anyone to be within several miles of him in fact." She grumbled. "And....."
"No Minerva," Albus sat up straight, and looked his dear friend deeply in the eyes. "It was their choice. It was made before I had any input into their course. Can you not see that? The Dreame was a manifestation of their deepest desires, it required not only the need and longing from one partner, but from both of them in order to work. They may have had trouble convincing their conscious minds to act towards the goal of each other, but they had already made and acted upon the choice their unconscious minds made. The spell was worked by them, added to and altered as they saw fit. It brought together two people who would never have thought to look to each other for the comfort they both desperately sought.
Not everyone can simply look and find a soul mate Minerva. Some have to quest for that person, to open their hearts and take the challenge."
"Well, I'm surprised he has a heart to open." Minerva said waspishly as an aside.
"Would you be so upset if Hermione was not a Gryffindor? Or would you be happier if she had fallen for someone else?"
"Yes, to both counts." She half shrieked in annoyance, her accent dropping into a thick brogue as it was wont when she was upset. "Yes, she could have had any manner of other men, she is highly intelligent, very gifted, and quite pretty, in her own way, truly excellent scholar..." Minerva's heartfelt outburst drifted to a halt, "He's probably very well suited to her isn't he." She admitted, looking up to the approval in Albus' face.
"Yes, I think their choice is admirable." He smiled at her, glad that she had seen sense though her indignation, "And, if nothing else, at least Severus should be less annoyed with the world in general."
"Tell me that is not why you encouraged this." She grinned, "Oh Albus, that poor girl, what has she let herself in for?"
"Oh, I have a feeling she knows exactly what she is doing." He murmured as he smiled smugly into his cocoa and chuckled to himself.
Deep in the pockets of his voluminous robe his questing fingers twisted the dial of the watch buried there. No need to keep it running, he decided, the spell seemed to have grown a life of its own and surely must have run its course by now. He was quite pleased with its effectiveness, even if he had been totally thrown by the potion masters choice of Dreame. It had seemed to be such a simple little spell, a basic dream, a smattering of happy thoughts and a suppressant for his infamous bad temper.
Albus wondered if it would work the same way for anyone else, or whether the effects were unique to the participants. Shame, he thought, smiling to himself, he could do with a little romance himself. As long as he could predict the route of Dreame, he thought looking over his half moon glasses at his companion, he wasn't sure how he would cope with a shock as great as Hermione's had been. His mind drifted as he pictured being enveloped in the arms of Madame Sprout. He shuddered and then chuckled quietly to himself, earning him a querying look from Minerva. Yes, if it could be directed towards a certain person, it promised to be very interesting indeed.
The End
Many many thanks to my wonderful reviewers, I am most grateful for your comments and especially for your praise (totally insecure bunny here). As always, much kudos to my beta, without you this would not have been half as readable.
Many apologies for not getting this uploaded sooner. My life has taken a rather busy turning. I am now the proud mother of a bouncing baby boy who is filling my every waking moment with his smiles.
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Touch guided his every move, as he stroked her, relishing the feel of her silken skin under his calloused fingertips. Hermione sighed gently, content to let him worship her, for the time being at least. The feeling of being slightly drugged increased, as her being centred on Severus, and the reality of life receded.
"Look at me, open your eyes Hermione." he grated, his large hands framing her face and holding her still under him. "Tell me, who am I Hermione. Who am I?" he questioned insistently, his desperate need to have her confirm his identity, to confirm that she was making a conscious decision to be with him, coloured his voice to a rich throaty rumble.
Hermione shivered with desire, but held his gaze, lifting her hips silently to rub against him, telling him only that she wanted him beyond all thought.
"No, I need to hear you say it! I need to know you make this choice. Who am I Hermione?" his voice thick with the strain of his control.
"Severus..." she whispered
"More!"
"You are Severus Snape."
"And.."
She smiled gently, understanding at last what he needed to hear from her.
"And you are the greasy, evil git who made my entire school life hell. You are the bully who makes Gryffindors feel awful, simply for your own amusement. You are the former death eater who gave his oath to the master of evil." she paused, keeping her eyes locked on his slightly shocked eyes. "And, you are the man who I desire more than any other. You are the bravest, most self sacrificing man I have ever known. You are the man who can make me feel a thousand conflicting emotions in the space of a heartbeat. You, Severus Snape, are the man I chose, the man I love." She paused again. Not willing to utter the words that, despite what the world thought of him, she would be proud to be with him. They were implied, and by the look in his eyes, she saw that he had heard them.
"I love you too." he murmured, as he slowly entered her, pushing deeper, never letting the intensity of their gaze diminish. Lowering his lips to hers he kissed her, sealing their unspoken pledge, binding them, each to the other.
The room was beginning to lighten, the flowered curtains letting the sun creep around their ill fitting edges. It was nearly day, and yet still he lay there, in her bed, with arms wrapped possessively around her sleeping form. A smile still lingered on his face, his mind reliving odd moments from his victory the night before. Wondering thoughts randomly threw up images of stunned colleagues when he broke the news of his impending marriage. The imagined look of horror on Minerva's face, made him chuckle, causing his sleeping lover to shift slightly in his arms. He shushed her back to sleep, letting his nose drift into her hair.
She was his; she had surrendered and in so doing had allowed him a most gracious Slytherin victory. His path had been well chosen, meticulously planned after the night of her betrayal. That hurt had been unexpected, but he had built upon his feelings, moulding them into his persona, using others perceptions of him to guide their beliefs, and ultimately to guide her actions.
It had not taken long to recover from the black despair which had descended on her betrayal. His innate Slytherin need for revenge had reared its ugly head, and his anger had seared away the despair. He had sat well into the night, plotting the path which would lead him to this point. He knew what his goal was; he just had to decide on a stratagem to persuade Hermione to reach it for herself.
The incident in the Headmaster's room had upset those plans for a while; he had never expected her to be quite so direct. His anger had not been feigned, at least not at first. Later when he had time alone, sitting before his fire, a glass of wine in his hand, he had smiled with delight at her approach. She would never make a Slytherin, he had mused, no finesse when it came to guiding the actions of another. She was most definitely a Gryffindor through and through; his Gryffindor, he smiled.
Hermione stirred, turning in his arms to snuggle against his chest, breathing in his scent as she settled contentedly back into a light doze. His Gryffindor, but he most certainly was her Slytherin, as captured by her, as she was by his arms. He stopped and gazed into her face, marvelling over the black sweep of her lashes, and wondered again if he had been too distracted to see the bigger picture. He had been so certain of his victory, he had not stopped to consider her moves in this game. For a quiet eternity he gazed at her, before pulling her close and whispering into her sleep tousled hair,
"A very satisfactory draw I believe Miss Granger."
In a quiet tower room, an old man with white hair sat, smiling into his mug of cocoa, content. Minerva looked at him askance, deeply distrustful of his innocent look.
"Well, are you going to tell me what you have meddled in now, it must be something big to generate such a smug smile?" the old witch asked, cupping her drink and sipping the hot foaming chocolate.
"Me?" the feigned innocence was not entirely convincing. "Well, I suppose I have done a little, a tiny bit" he clarified quite earnestly," of steering. But that little boat seems to be quite safe now." He snuggled into the sofa and smiled beatifically at the slightly tense witch next to him.
"Albus, please tell me you are not talking of Hermione. I'm not sure I can go through another of Severus' moods." She pulled away from him slightly, to stare over the top of her half moon spectacles, taking care not to spill her drink.
"Don't worry my dear. I'm sure that it has worked out this time. I'm not sure that they have truly realised the full ramifications of the Dreame, I mean the theory behind the practice of the spell, but, it seems to have produced the desired results." He smiled again, and waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.
"Sometimes Albus, I quite despair of you ever growing up! How can you sit there and make jokes about this. Hermione is, I presume from your suggestive attitude, back in the clutches of that man." She practically spat the last word. "Judging from his behaviour lately, I don't think it is safe for her to be anywhere near him. Not safe for anyone to be within several miles of him in fact." She grumbled. "And....."
"No Minerva," Albus sat up straight, and looked his dear friend deeply in the eyes. "It was their choice. It was made before I had any input into their course. Can you not see that? The Dreame was a manifestation of their deepest desires, it required not only the need and longing from one partner, but from both of them in order to work. They may have had trouble convincing their conscious minds to act towards the goal of each other, but they had already made and acted upon the choice their unconscious minds made. The spell was worked by them, added to and altered as they saw fit. It brought together two people who would never have thought to look to each other for the comfort they both desperately sought.
Not everyone can simply look and find a soul mate Minerva. Some have to quest for that person, to open their hearts and take the challenge."
"Well, I'm surprised he has a heart to open." Minerva said waspishly as an aside.
"Would you be so upset if Hermione was not a Gryffindor? Or would you be happier if she had fallen for someone else?"
"Yes, to both counts." She half shrieked in annoyance, her accent dropping into a thick brogue as it was wont when she was upset. "Yes, she could have had any manner of other men, she is highly intelligent, very gifted, and quite pretty, in her own way, truly excellent scholar..." Minerva's heartfelt outburst drifted to a halt, "He's probably very well suited to her isn't he." She admitted, looking up to the approval in Albus' face.
"Yes, I think their choice is admirable." He smiled at her, glad that she had seen sense though her indignation, "And, if nothing else, at least Severus should be less annoyed with the world in general."
"Tell me that is not why you encouraged this." She grinned, "Oh Albus, that poor girl, what has she let herself in for?"
"Oh, I have a feeling she knows exactly what she is doing." He murmured as he smiled smugly into his cocoa and chuckled to himself.
Deep in the pockets of his voluminous robe his questing fingers twisted the dial of the watch buried there. No need to keep it running, he decided, the spell seemed to have grown a life of its own and surely must have run its course by now. He was quite pleased with its effectiveness, even if he had been totally thrown by the potion masters choice of Dreame. It had seemed to be such a simple little spell, a basic dream, a smattering of happy thoughts and a suppressant for his infamous bad temper.
Albus wondered if it would work the same way for anyone else, or whether the effects were unique to the participants. Shame, he thought, smiling to himself, he could do with a little romance himself. As long as he could predict the route of Dreame, he thought looking over his half moon glasses at his companion, he wasn't sure how he would cope with a shock as great as Hermione's had been. His mind drifted as he pictured being enveloped in the arms of Madame Sprout. He shuddered and then chuckled quietly to himself, earning him a querying look from Minerva. Yes, if it could be directed towards a certain person, it promised to be very interesting indeed.
The End
Many many thanks to my wonderful reviewers, I am most grateful for your comments and especially for your praise (totally insecure bunny here). As always, much kudos to my beta, without you this would not have been half as readable.