That Certain Urge
Chapter Four
Despite the darkness, he could clearly see two figures locked in a passionate embrace. He stilled his frantically beating heart, controlled his heaving breaths as best he could under the circumstances while ignoring the muscle spasms in his calves. After a few minutes he had discerned the would-be lovers' identities neither of whom was the Head Girl which was quite fortunate for him in his current state.
He mentally pictured himself in front of a classroom. "Mr. DeWitt, Miss Armstrong, ten points from Ravenclaw each for being out after curfew. Don't even think about explaining yourselves just get back to your dormitories before I reach five and make it fifty apiece! One .. two.. three... ! "
The two Ravenclaws had begun sprinting before he got to two. Unseen by the students on the other side of the hedge was Professor Severus Snape prone and spread eagled on the ground with his clothes plastered to his body. His perspiration was beginning to cool against his skin. He had just reached a state and position where he felt no pain, even while breathing.
Had he his wand he could have just levitated back to the castle. As it was, he had left it behind in his rooms not having had any pockets to put it in. Besides, he would have felt extremely foolish holding it while he went about his business tonight. He would not forget tomorrow. He was determined to get back to the castle before sunrise on his hands and knees if necessary.
He experimented moving one bare leg and winced at the pain that bloomed and traveled its way up to his hips. One groan through gritted teeth, a rollover and an agonizing lift later, he was up on his feet more or less. His head swam. He fought the nausea down. As he made his way back to the castle he reflected on the foolishness done in anticipation of a soul-shattering good shag. He remembered a conversation a few days ago.
He had been in his private workroom sitting on a stool preparing the test potions for the NEWTs classes when he heard her call out to him from the classroom. He couldn't leave the test potion unattended so he told her to come to him. She stood by him and announced, "I've come to make arrangements for settling our game. When, where and for how long, Professor?"
"I see you've started your research already," Snape said with just a hint of approval. "Well, you may decide on the date and time and I will specify the venue and duration," Snape was not looking at her and continued to stir the potion. They then agreed to a date, time, location and duration - the Friday night before the leaving feast 7 weeks hence, 8pm, Snape's quarters with a maximum time of 24 complete and continuous hours. He put out his right hand intending to seal the agreement.
She shook her head. "I'm not finished setting the conditions, Professor. The books I've consulted were quite stringent."
"I see. You are using the unabridged set of rules. Will we need to seal the our arrangement with drops of blood?"
Hermione grinned. "I'm not reaching that far back. I'm relying on the guidelines set forth in the Articles of Gamesmanship of 1935. It is the accepted standard."
"All right. What else do you require?"
Hermione's expression turned serious. "I'm sure that you know that our lives will likely change some time this summer."
Snape nodded acknowledging without words that Voldemort was indeed planning his last confrontation with Harry Potter for the summer.
"There is a high probability that I will not escape unscathed. I will give everything I have for Harry's sake."
Snape nodded. A faint ringing alarm was beginning to sound in his head.
"Before, before then I want to give ... get something for me, just for me. I've always assumed that my goals were set - get to university, excel at university, secure a good job, find love, perhaps, some day have a family. But goals have no life of their own. They give no emotion or comfort in return. I want and need to have something that will sustain me through the dark days."
"Miss Granger, lessons are not what you are looking for are they?"
"Not exactly, sir." Hermione stepped closer towards him. "I want a memory. With your help, it will be one brimming with life, wonder and laughter."
"Life, wonder and laughter, surely those disqualify me instantly."
"You represent all of them, Professor, to me you do." Hermione smiled and ticked off on her fingers her three points. "You risk your life everyday. I can't think of anyone who knows to live in the moment more. You understand life and you know its worth. As for wonder, well, you should observe yourself sometime when you're making a potion or ... or talking on a subject that interests you. To me, wonder is not awe or even discovery, it's enthusiasm and expertise."
"I have no opinion on the first two but laughter? I barely even smile, Miss Granger."
"That's true enough. But, Professor, to be honest, I enjoyed our last game for the conversation as much as the challenge. Any game between us would not be boring. Because of that you meet my laughter criteria. I want to have our game but I also want to make a memory."
"I'm sure the game will be memorable in and of itself. Explain exactly what it is you want, Miss Granger."
"Before I go on, I need to remind you that you did agree to the second game. You can't -"
"I will decide what I can and cannot agree to. Explain."
"I will not settle for tame forfeits that only go as far as necking on the couch. I want memories of us, not the nasty professor or the know-it-all student, just a man and a woman sharing themselves, intimately, in every way."
"I do believe, Miss Granger, that, in the course of the game, we would eventually work our way to full sex at some point."
Hermione's face glowed with determination yet her eyes were full of uncertainty. "I am willing to share all of me with all of you. I want to feel life with you, share wonder with you and laugh with you."
"When one is facing possible death, it is natural to want comfort and -"
"This isn't about comfort." Hermione insisted. "I want to grab something now because I want to, not because I'm driven to do something by circumstance.".
Hermione boldly invaded his personal space. She slipped one hand inside his open robe letting it rest on his chest while the other hand found and hooked itself onto his belt. She jerked him forward off the stool only to shove him right back down hard. Behind his back she had transformed the stool into a spacious leather armchair. He was about to give her points for that amazing sleight of hand but his attention was arrested by Hermione's lips descending closer and closer to his. Any thoughts or concerns about his potion evaporated.
Her kiss when it came was hard, almost bruising trying to force his mouth to open. When he stubbornly didn't comply, her fingers gouged ever- narrowing circles around both his nipples then squeezed almost to the point of pain. He let out a strangled gasp and moaned out loud at the abrupt maneuver leaving an opening wherein her tongue plunged in taking no prisoners mercilessly teasing and probing. The kiss lasted a full three minutes after which she gazed down with serious eyes and pleaded her case.
"Because I want passion not just sex, Professor. Because I feel more in a kiss with you than with anyone else. Because, if this is what a grand passion is like, then it's the memory I want to have. Because I don't know if I will ever have another chance. So, will you? Will you make a memory with me?"
He was silent for a long time with his head down bookended by his hands. Her nerve broke, her eyes fell. In her mind his silence was rejection. "I won't hold you to the lessons, Professor. Please forget everything I said. I certainly will."
"You have given a tired old man back a piece of himself that he'd thought lost a long time ago, best left forgotten." Snape stood up straight and addressed her formally. "I would be honored to share that memory with you, Miss Granger. May our endeavor be blessed with life, wonder and laughter enough to sustain us both."
Snape felt his heart lighten as he saw the effect of his words on this remarkable creature. Her eyes downcast before were now sparkling intensely. Her face glowed with happiness instead of quiet despair. "I thought I'd asked for too much."
"You did. Perhaps it's time I, too, grabbed life with both hands before it slips away."
"Are you certain?"
"I rather like the idea of doing something I want to instead of ... of something else." Snape heard the chiming of a clock. "You should go now. Get some sleep."
"Later. I have so much research to do. I want to do my best."
Snape gently caressed a wayward tendril of cinnamon brown hair. He brought her hand to his lips, turned it palm up reverently kissed her palm then pressed their hands together palm to palm fingers against fingers. "I will hold that any fault or tarnish of our memories together will most certainly not lie with you."
"A Slytherin admitting to less than absolute confidence. I thought that was against the house rules," she said coyly then whispered. "I have a confession to make. I know I seem experienced but it's just cleverness and bravado. I've had dates and boyfriends but I've never slept with them. Please don't laugh at me. Don't tell me how disappointed you are. I give you permission to lie to my face about ... about my performance."
"Hermione, sleep well and know that our time together will be so full of patience, laughter, affection as well as pleasure that there won't be any room or cause for regrets or blame. I promise you." Snape let go of her hand and placed both of his hands on her waist and drew her to him brushing a soft kiss across her forehead. "You have a few more weeks to perfect your technique, my earnest Gryffindor."
She laughed and said saucily "Are you challenging my ingenuity, Severus?"
It felt so good to be in his arms. But it felt even better when she looked at him basking in the warmth in his eyes. She was thrilled with the knowledge that his playful, open abandon was for her and her alone.
With a final sweet kiss, she left him to redo his ruined potion. He'd left it unattended for too long.
He'd started his nightly exercising and jogging runs the following evening. As he reached the steps of Hogwarts, his body finally showed signs of recovering from his self-inflicted punishment - a 5 mile run. He wondered again what he was thinking to accomplish.
He remembered himself at eighteen - energy, enthusiasm and endless experimentation. If their responsiveness to each other was anything to go by, their next encounter would be nothing short of a rapacious marathon with the pleasures of victory and bragging rights going to the last one still conscious. And he really, really wanted to be the one to brag.
He was a Slytherin after all. House honor had to be preserved especially in private. But, more importantly, he was a man who kept his promises.