AN: ok, this chapter is made up of some minor smut and a little bit of plot and my attempt at humour. Now, the original version was a lot smuttier (is that even a word?) but in an attempt to keep the peace and observe the rules I toned it down. But, as a precaution, I upped the rating. Now, I am over 18 so I am allowed to both read and write this but if you are notor ifyou don't wish to read it, when it gets smutty, just skip ahead, I promise there isn't much. But if you'd prefer to just skip this in general, I'll leave a short description of what happened in this chapter at the beginning of the next. Ok? So, now I think my butt is officially covered, what all that basically means is read at your own discretion and please don't flame me if you don't like lemons. On another note, if you want to see the full, original, much smuttier version, it can be found at Ashwinder, under the same pen name, but you must be of age and logged in. Let me know what you think.

AN2: thanks to those who reviewed and I would just like to point out that smut is not what I usually write, so rest assured this is likely a one off thing.

Oh holy fuck. She wants to talk. She wants to talk, that can't ever be a good thing. Last time she wanted to talk it was to badger me into playing nice with a pack of wolves. Ok, they weren't exactly wolves. But in my life I have come to realise that a pack of Gryffindors is very similar to a pack of wolves and even more dangerous. Even worse, she's been away on some sort of business trip for three days. That must be it, she's decided that she does indeed want some random inbred twit instead of me. I'll kill him. Yes, when she tells me she's leaving me, I'll casually inquire as to who her new love interest is and then I'll torture, maim and kill him. I bet he's a Gryffindor. Bastard. No, damn it, Snape! Don't think like that! This is Hermione. Hermione is not like that. She would pick up on that so quickly. Obviously subtlety is the key. Yes, untraceable poisons. I'll make sure he ingests at least three, just to be on the safe side. Oh great plan, then what? She comes crawling back so she can be with someone who can effortlessly kill her? Ok, breathe. Just breathe. She'll be home soon, she said seven. I need a drink, maybe make some food. Bugger that, I'll order some food. Either way, there is no way I am going to dinner in the Great Hall tonight. Oh Gods, I think I need to move. The owl came more than three hours ago and I still haven't left my seat. I'm getting too old for this. What could we possibly need to talk about? We've only been married three months, she can't be ready to leave me already! I anticipated at least a year before she gave up and left in the middle of the night to take up a life with an intellectually stunted Quidditch player, or similar lower life form. I'll seduce her, I'll make her love me. I'll make her desperate to stay, yes. A little foolish wand waving was all it took and my rooms, no our rooms, are completely transformed. Luckily I had already been planning to give her a proper welcoming, the kind that ensured that she would never ever want to leave again. Yes, I will seduce her. Yes, and after it's over she can tell me that it was just pity sex and she is in fact leaving me. Releasing a groan of frustration I lean forward until my head is placed firmly and a little painfully on my desk. I proceed to pound both hands on the desk in a fit of mindless (and somewhat childish) rebellion.

"What are you doing?"

I still the movement of my hands and look up to see Hermione staring at me with a slightly bemused expression on her face. Perfect. Just fucking perfect. There I was, intent on seducing her, clearly demonstrating that I am far more suitable match for her than, well, anyone, showing her how sophisticated and well read I am, or something along those lines, and basically making her want to stay with me forever and ever, and she walks in while I'm having a fist fight with my desk. Brilliant.

"Uh…"

"Let me guess, the desk started it."

"Well-"

"It called you a nasty name? Do you want me to send it to bed without any dinner?"

"It's-"

"Now now, Severus. I don't want to have to separate you two, you seem to work so well together."

Oh holy fuck. She's mocking me, ok, think. Diversionary tactics. Get her mind off your childishness and away from what we have to talk about. And don't you dare think about just what that may be. Ok, come on genius, say something.

"Um, you're home early, I wasn't expecting you until seven."

Nice recovery.

"Severus, it's seven thirty."

"Yes, yes it is."

Smooth.

"Is everything ok? You seem a little-"

"Everything's fine. Are you hungry?"

"Uh, a little."

"Good, I'll order something in."

Oh holy fuck. This is getting to be beyond embarrassing. It's bad enough that she witnessed me taking out my anger on the table but when she ceases her taunting and is actually civil to me I growl at her and treat her like a dunderhead rather than my fucking wife. MY wife, dammit. Ok, it's all going to be fine, just get up and order something from the kitchen. Go on, get up. Get. Up. Off. The. Fucking. Chair. NO, stay down, she's walking towards you. No, not walking, she's practically slinking towards you. How can a woman dressed in such conservative robes look so damn desirable? She slinks her way around my desk and stops when she's standing in between my legs. She seems to contemplate me for a moment before slowly dropping to her knees in front of me. She places her hands on my thighs and slowly slides them up and down until I'm squirming in my seat. She grins wickedly, evil woman. She knows what she does to me.

"What's wrong, Severus?"

"You said you wanted to talk." I manage to choke out, my breathing seems to become a little laboured as her hands move to cup me through my pants.

"And that is a bad thing?" she asks softly while her fingers slide the zipper on my pants down.

"Well-"

"Severus, do you really want me to talk?"

I look down to see her lips are inches from the tip of my now extremely hard cock. I shake my head silently and close my eyes at the first feel of her mouth on me. She places light kisses up and down the length of my shaft while her fingers move to cup my balls. A groan escapes my lips andIattempt to force my eyes to stay open. Bugger it. My eyes fall shut as my head falls back against the top of the chair.

Ok, note to self, get a higher backed chair. That hurt like a bastard.

"Severus, what's wrong?" she asks and my eyes snap open at her worried tone.

"Nothing, well my head hurts but that's only becuase-"

"No, I mean before. What was wrong before?"

"Hermione-"

"Tell me, Severus," she practically growls, I feel my cock jump in response and stifle a groan.

"Herm-" she silences me with a single slow lick up the length of my penis. She pulls back and looks in my eye, grasping me tightly but without moving her hand.

"Tell me, Severus."

"Ulemee"

"Louder, Severus," she says in a commanding tone. I always knew that she could do that, unfortunately, in my current situation it does nothing to deflate my erection, only serving to turn me on even more. Damn this woman, she's going to fucking kill me! She slowly moves her thumb up to rub across the tip, where some moisture has begun seeping out. She spreads the liquid with her thumb and follows the same pattern with her other hand on my sac. "Louder, Severus."

"You're going to leave me."

She stills the movement of both hands and stares at me. We just stare at each other. A minute passes. Two minutes. Then she throws her head back and laughs. No, not laughs, those are bloody bellows. I scowl at her and try to find an appropriately scathing reprimand.

"It's not funny."

Hmm, not really what I was hoping for. I try to sound intimidating and instead I sound like a petulant three year old who's not being taken seriously by his fucking mother. Great, just fucking perfect. She looks like she's finally calming down, no, wait, another fit of fucking giggles. Honestly, is my pain and humiliation that amusing?

"I'm sorry, Severus."

"You don't sound very sorry."

"Are you pouting?"

"No."

"You are, you're pouting. That's so cute."

"Cute? I assure you, Hermione I may be a great many things but cute is not one of them!"

"Is that a fact?"

She's staring at me again. In her moment of gleeful giggling…wait, gleeful giggling? Oh gods, insert sarcasm here, stir three times and allow to simmer. Anyway, during her fit of giggling she had lost her balance and fallen, fairly gracelessly onto her arse. She's laying sprawled on the floor and the way in which she came to be there, well, ordinarily I would have found it both amusing and arousing, unfortunately, I am busy being indignant. As a direct result of her laughing fit, and now that she has regained her composure and resumed her little staring tactic, I have a fair view of both her face and her crotch. Conservative robes or not, they all go upwards when given a little prompting. Ugh, trying hard to fight off a vision of prompting Minerva's conservative robes up. Oh holy fuck, scarred for life. Concentrate, breathe. Just breathe through the pain.

She crawls toward me with a devilish smirk I would usually be proud of (but I find I really don't care at the moment) plastered on her face, she's crawling! Gods, my somewhat deflated erection springs back to life and she comes face to er…face with it. She kisses the tip and moves right on passed it, raising slowly and placing her palms on my thighs to gently push herself up off the ground. My mouth hangs slightly open as she begins to sink into my lap, one leg on either side of my hips, my erection lost somewhere between us. Eh, find it later.

"Severus," she draws my name out on the end of a purr, damn this woman, "if you really want me to leave-" she kisses her way up my neck and flicks her tongue across the bottom of my ear, "you know," she moves her lips across my temple and down my face, stopping at the tip of my nose, "I am ALWAYS," she grinds her hips into mine and I struggle to hold back my moan, "willing" she brushes her lips against mine, "to accommodate" her tongue plunges into my mouth, taking a full tour before retreating, "you."

"Well-"

"I best be off. I notice you were disciplining your table when I interrupted. My apologies."

She is getting up. She is no longer sitting on my lap. This is not good. I wonder if it's too old fashioned to just pick her up, throw her over my shoulder, carry her back to our chambers and shag her into submission. Reminder, her submission is not the issue. Go on, follow her. Unless you really would prefer to stay and further acquaint yourself with your desk. Wait, she's turning. Maybe she will hurry back to finish what she started.

"I'll see you around."

Ok, great, now she's gone. Well, granted, she's only in the next room. After her, fool! Why are you not moving? Move, move, move! Yes, that does usually involve standing. Good, now walk! Oh for fucks sake! Faster! No, don't bother closing your pants, just walk. There is absolutely no justifiable reason for travelling this slow when Hermione is waiting on the other side of those walls. Oh holy fuck, she's going to walk right into the middle of my planned seduction. I really don't know if that's a good thing. After her!

Right, so when I said 'after her' it was interpreted as 'barge right into her and land the both of you on your arses'. Well done.

"Uh, Hermione…"

"Severus, you actually did this?"

A cautious glance shows nothing is amiss with my planned seduction. The fire is roaring, the wine is in place, the table is set and sort of waiting for me to get my act together and order some food. I almost decide to lay the blame for this completely clichéd scene on a disobedient house elf or similar, but doubt she would believe me. Come on, a first year Hufflepuff would know better. Honestly, this scene could be found in a book titled 'An Idiot's Guide to Seduction'. Actually, I've heard they have a wide array of such titles in the Muggle world. Hey genius, really not the point! Actually, I suppose, upon closer inspection, there could be a slight problem with this scene. Really, the only problem that could be found would possibly be the fact that we are both sprawled on the floor in an entirely inappropriate position with an inordinate amount of clothing still adorning our bodies. Also, we should be closer. Much closer. Focus! She asked a question.

"Of course."

A bit delayed, but better than nothing. Too many clothes, must take action. Just lean forward and you could almost reach her breasts, provided she doesn't move. I'm leaning, I'm leaning, so far so good. Wait, she's leaning back, balancing herself on her elbows. Smiling in a way that can only be described as evil she raises a finger to beckon me closer. Pause briefly to admire the view of her robes falling slightly open and her skirt riding up teasingly before continuing. Screw this, lunge. Fumbling, fumbling. Fuck! Where the fuck is my fucking wand? Fucking buttons! Fucking conservative robes, who likes them anyway?

"Patience, Severus."

She draws her wand out of her sleeve and flicks it once, releasing the buttons of her clothes. Much better. I lean in to kiss her and gently play with her nipples. I move my mouth to her chest and draw a lazy circle around her right nipple before sucking it into my mouth.A distant banging causes me to pause. Mentally shrugging, I move my mouth to her other nipple, making sure that all my actions are teasingly slow. She's moaning. That's right, I'll show her!

"No, no, no," she moans.

I raise my head and still the movement of my hands, looking at her, more than a little offended. Huh, this is not how it's supposed to go. She hasn't even let me finish. If she would just…oh for fucks sake, what is that banging? I notice that she is no longer looking at me. I follow her gaze, slightly insulted that at the moment she's not even looking at me, and realise that the banging is in fact someone knocking on the door to my chambers. A knock on the door. A knock on the fucking door. She groans quietly and turns her eyes back to my face.

"I see your point." I swear if it's possible there is a definite pout in my voice. I hope whoever is at the door is not one of my students, it wouldn't exactly do wonders for my reputation to be found pouting with my pants down. On second thought, better to be a student than if I were to find Minerva on the other side of that door. I don't think I could handle even a glimpse of her fucking conservative robes right now, too many painful images already associated with…ugh, really don't need to go over that again.

She begins buttoning her clothes again, this is definitely not a good sign. I capture both her hands in one of mine and hold them above her head.

"Whoever it is, they can certainly wait."

"What if it's an emergency?"

"An emergency?" I release her hands and raise a questioning eyebrow, "What could possibly be more urgent than what we are currently engaged in?" I emphasise my point by easing two fingers into her and resuming my previous rhythm.

I lower my head to her breasts, sucking forcefully on one while my free hand toys idly with the other. She closes her eyes and moves her head wordlessly from side to side. Unfortunately, this is the moment our visitor chooses to begin banging on the damn door with much more ferocity and a definite increase in volume. I turn my head to glare daggers (or something equally sharp) at the door, slightly bothered by the fact that a) I cannot in fact glare daggers, and b) even if I could glare daggers, the door would have to be open for said daggers to be in any way effective. Therein lies the problem. I really want to cause grievous bodily harm to whoever is fool enough to be banging on my fucking door, however, I also have a burning desire to keep aforementioned door firmly shut and Hermione firmly wedged between my thighs.

"Apparently there is something more urgent, Severus."

"I am going to kill whoever is at that damn door. Slowly. Painfully," I say as I allow Hermione to get up, somewhat regretfully. "Don't roll your eyes, it will happen."

"And if it's Albus?"

"Oh, I will find a way."

She finishes buttoning and adjusting her clothes, smoothing down her hair (in a futile effort at taming the wild beast) before walking across the room to open the door. Please, don't let it be Minerva. Anyone but bloody Minerva.

"Harry, what are you doing here?"

Potter! Damn him! Damn him straight to…well in all honesty, I'd be satisfied with damning him to anywhere but here. As long as the anywhere involved serious, crippling pain, preferably to his genitals.

"I am so sorry Hermione, I'm gonna go ahead and assume that you and Snape were, ahem, busy…"

"Uh, yeah, we were-"

"Really not looking for details."

"Right, so, what's up? How did you even know I was home?"

"Remus sent me, and Albus sent him, I don't know how they knew, but they did. Anyway, they said not to take no answer for an answer-"

"Hence the banging?"

"Exactly, sorry about that. So, they wanted me to tell the two of you that there is a meeting of some description that the two of you need to attend at around nine in Albus' office. Ok?"

He sounds anxious to leave, good. Maybe I should go stand there, make him more uncomfortable. Maybe even get a nice, healthy amount of sarcastic taunts in before he goes. Civility is one thing. No sarcasm when Potter is around would be asking for a bloody miracle.

"Uh, sure. Who's going to be there? What's it about?"

Slowly, make sure your pants are securely fastened, really don't feel like having THAT conversation with Potter. Ok, dignity and intimidation, even though it never worked on the stupid brat. Not the point. Dignity. Ah yes, he's seen you now. He's acknowledging your existence, a nod. Very well, return the gesture. It's only polite. No, forget the nod, that's just unnatural. Scowl, yes, much better.

"Good evening, Professor."

"Potter. What is this meeting about?"

"No idea, all I know is that Remus, Minerva, Albus, Ron" bloody Weasley "and Tonks will be there and you two have to be there too."

"A thousand insincere apologies, Mr Potter, but we are unable-"

"We'll be there."

Oh holy fuck. I don't want to go to the fucking meeting. I don't want to talk to all those horrific people. I want to stay here and not talk to Hermione.

"Good to hear. Everyone will be so pleased."

"No need to get snippy, Harry."

"Never. Now, I will let you get back to whatever it was you were doing, and hope to never have to hear of the particulars. Also, while I'm here, I just thought I should point out that while the two of you may have found the joys of marital life, you both seem to be unable to understand the joys of a silencing charm…I'll see you guys later."

Ah, she is closing the door. Definitely a good thing. Bloody Potter. Finally, time to actually complete my not very well planned seduction.

"We still need to talk, Severus."

She does not turn to face me as she says this, but I notice a subtle tensing of her body, followed by a not-so-subtle tensing of mine. My mind is busy screaming instructions about a reaction consisting of a contradictory mix of indifference and caring deeply for what she needs to say. I know she doesn't expect me to feign interest, but perhaps I could try it if she wants to leave me. Perhaps I could get her to stay. Fine, I'll call that plan B. Plan A is still the seduction. No, wait, seductions take too long. Fuck the fucking seduction and just fucking do something!

I spin her around and throw her over my shoulder, ignoring her protests.

"I assure you, Hermione, there will be an abundance of time to talk later."

I walk quickly towards the bedroom so as not to give her any time to formulate a response. I kick the door open (marvelling at my masculinity in the process) and toss her (gently) onto the bed.

"Much better."

I smirk in as predatory a way as possible and kick the door shut behind me.

A shortish time later...

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

"A couple of things we need to talk about," she speaks the words softly and completely ruins my post-orgasmic state of denial. A cold feeling of dread settles somewhere in my stomach.

"Oh?"

"First, if you ever try and make me have this little 'you're going to leave me' argument of yours again I swear your balls will not survive the experience. I am not planning on leaving you so stop. Assuming. That. I. Am."

"Understood," I reply somewhat nervously.

"Second, despite your elaborate and very satisfying diversion, we still need to talk."

Damn, it didn't work then.

"Look, there is absolutely no easy way to say this."

Here it comes. I bet she's gonna say-

"I'm pregnant."

Huh. Now that I was not expecting. She can't be serious. I ease out of her body and turn her to face me, disbelief clearly written on my face. She looks a little nervous.

"Uh, surprise?" she offers weakly.

I open and close my mouth a few times and try to form words. Great. Just fucking perfect. I sincerely hope that my child is more articulate than I appear to be. Wait, my child. MY child.

Oh holy fuck.

AN: see, it wasn't that bad, was it? so, once again, sorry if you've got something against lemons (and for the duhworthy nature of the ending) but it's just a one time thing, and well, you were warned. So, PLEASE review. I'd really appreciate it.