Chapter 13

Still able to feel Professor Snape's final, unexpected kiss on her lips, Hermione walked quickly and quietly down the guest corridor until she reached her room. Just as she was about to open the door, Hermione was surprised to see her neighbour, Neville's, door spring open, and the tall boy himself appear with one arm on the doorframe, and the other firmly around the waist of one Hannah Abbott, whose mouth he was devouring as if his very survival depended on it.

"Woah!" she gasped, attempting to muffle her startled noise as soon as it escaped her mouth, and the snogging pair jumped apart in shock.

"Hermione!" began Neville, pushing a hand roughly through his messy hair. "We … um, I mean, Hannah and I …we were just …"

Hermione held up her hands to stop her friend before he started.

"It's absolutely fine, you have nothing to explain. You just startled me, that's all. I was sneaking back from the library after curfew and thought I'd managed it undisturbed. Thank Merlin it was just you two."

Both Neville and Hannah visibly slumped their shoulders in relief.

"Not that it is one bit my business, but it makes me very happy to see the two of you together," she continued, smiling at them, for they were both still beetroot-red and clearly embarrassed at being caught spending the evening together in Neville's bedchamber.

"Thanks Hermione," replied Hannah, warmly. "But I really should be getting back to my room, that's why we'd opened the door, you know … for me to leave."

"Don't let me disturb you any more than I have. I'm going to bed, immediately," Hermione said, firmly, not wanting to intrude any further on their private moment.

Nodding at her friends, she disappeared into her own room, closing the door firmly behind her and sinking down into her desk chair with relief. Had Neville and Hannah opened the bedroom door just thirty seconds earlier, they would likely have seen her being kissed gently goodnight at the end of the corridor by Professor Snape, and that discovery didn't bear thinking about. He had been reckless to do it, but she had been equally as reckless to have allowed it, however welcome it was.

They must not allow their urgent desire to get in the way of common sense, or they would both be unceremoniously removed from the school, and even though Snape had professed not to care, Hermione was sure that the loss of his employment would be just as devastating for him, as being expelled would be for her.

As for their other activities this evening, and a slow smile crept unbidden across her face at the memory, they had fully concealed themselves in the conjured alcove behind the tapestry, and it was only a moment of aberration in the final seconds that could have exposed them.

This was a dangerous game to play, and Hermione wished she didn't love it as much as she did, but the truth was, she wanted to play. The excitement, and the thrill of the forbidden, made her feel alive, made her barely remember the ghost girl that she had been when she'd first returned to Hogwarts.

She was as addicted to Severus Snape as surely as if she'd been gazing upon him in the Mirror of Erised. Thank Merlin he was not a reflection.

-xxx-

Draco took the seat next to her in Transfiguration class the following day, prompting Professor Briner to make a snide remark that he hoped the two of them would behave better than the last time he had 'permitted' them to sit together. Pansy Parkinson had also been thoroughly unimpressed, shooting daggers at Draco from the usual desk that they shared, especially when Susan Bones had entered the classroom late, and taken the only seat that was left, the one next to Pansy.

"Shall we see what Professor Sleaze is up to, today?" hissed Draco, covering his thigh, lest Hermione attempt to jab him with the sharp end of her quill again.

Nothing seemed untoward, apart from the frankly substandard teaching that the NEWT students were being forced to accept. Whether McGonagall was simply brilliant, rather than Briner being sub-par, Hermione had yet to ascertain. They were still working on animal transfigurations, and half the class were woefully behind.

Thinking that Draco was being insufferably smug, as the bell rang for the end of the lesson, which had passed without incident, Hermione turned to shoot him a look that said, 'Look, see? Nothing happened.'

"Stay behind, please Miss Abbott," Briner called, as the class began to get to their feet, gathering their books.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I don't have spare time, tonight," Hannah replied, in a quavering voice that was actually rather bold, for her.

An aggrieved look flitted briefly across the new Transfiguration professor's face.

"No time? Ah, I see Miss Abbott. It is Friday night, no doubt you have a romantic assignation of some kind? Very well. I shall just have to cope alone."

Hannah's face blazed with embarrassment, for Hermione guessed she was indeed planning on spending the evening with Neville, not that it was any of Richard Briner's business.

"That's not fair, Sir!" Hermione cried out, indignant with rage on the gentle girl's behalf. "You can't ask students about their private relationships, that's highly inappropriate."

His eyes widened at being lambasted by an outspoken pupil, but before he could say anything, Malfoy joined the verbal fray.

"Granger is right," he drawled, lazily. "Evenings are our free time, and if Abbott has other plans that mean she's unable to assist you, that doesn't give you the right to bully her about it. Back off."

Professor Briner regarded them both with narrowed eyes that were starting to look weaselly and untrustworthy.

"Detention, both of you. Tomorrow night, here in this classroom. I shall limit some of that free time you cherish so deeply. How dare either of you address me in such a manner?"

Neither Hermione nor Draco replied, lest the punishment increase, but were both fuming at being treated like children, and the teacher took advantage of their silence to goad them further.

"What a shame. Our two lovebirds detained on a Saturday evening, when no doubt they would rather be breaking school rules in hidden corners, instead."

Ginny jumped to her feet, her face flushing with anger on Hermione's behalf.

"I agree with them! For your information Hermione and Draco are not even together, so I don't know why you persist in hinting that they are, and it's none of your business if Hannah is seeing someone. For a professor to talk this way about students is disgusting, especially since we are all adults, and entitled to our own private lives!"

Briner swivelled his eyes towards the fiery young witch, as if assessing how much of a threat she posed to him.

"You will now be joining the friends whom you have so courageously defended, in detention tomorrow night, Miss Weasley," he remarked, coolly. "Now I suggest you all leave my classroom before you make things worse for yourselves."

Everyone began to pull their bags from the desktop and troop towards the door of the Transfiguration classroom, not wishing to invite further punishment. Briner rolled his eyes at Hannah in disdain, but she stood her ground, meeting his eye, expressionless, and then pointedly heading towards the door. The professor turned his gaze upon Susan, instead.

"Miss Bones, you will stay behind and assist me?"

It was a challenge, and one that Hermione knew Susan would find very difficult to resist, knowing how she felt about Professor Briner. It seemed that he also was aware of her crush; and was clearly exploiting it to create friction between her and her best friend. Both Hermione and Hannah looked at Susan, who, rather than looking torn, instead seemed rather pleased.

"Yes Sir," Susan replied, meekly. "Yes. I'll stay. That's fine."

Hannah made a quiet noise of disapproval; and stalked from the room. A few stragglers still remained, observing the strange situation. Susan left her bag on the desk and approached the front of the classroom, where Professor Briner stood on the teaching platform, as if standing in solidarity with him.

"Class is still dismissed," he announced. "I am not sure why you are all still standing here in my classroom?"

His face was full of such gloating self-satisfaction that it caused Hermione to pause, and Draco had to guide her out of the room by her elbow.

"What on earth was that?" she said, angrily, once they were safely in the hubbub of the busy corridor.

"That was the sleazy git making his move," Malfoy replied, coolly. "I've been waiting for it all week. Why do you think I sat next to you? I was convinced something would happen today and I thought you might appreciate a commentary."

"Whatever it was, its landed us both in detention."

Draco gave her maddening, confident smirk.

"And did you notice that the detention was scheduled for tomorrow, rather than tonight?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Clearly, Briner has … other plans for this evening, that would have been scuppered by supervising detention."

"What's going on?"

It was Ginny, joining their conversation, and Hannah had moved closer, too, in a small huddle outside the closed door of Professor Briner's classroom as the passing crowds began to draw away and there were only a few of them left, who were all hanging around to see just what might happen next.

"Draco believes that Richard Briner is not to be trusted," Hermione told her.

"I agree with him," Hannah cut in. "He makes me feel quite uncomfortable."

Neville arrived just as she spoke, his long legs must have carried him quickly and easily from the greenhouses in order to meet Hannah from Transfiguration, especially since they had been dawdling, and were now gossiping in the corridor.

"Same thing?" he asked Hannah.

She nodded; and it was clear that Neville and Hannah must have discussed the matter between themselves, previously.

"What's happened now?"

"I'll tell you this evening, Neville. Please, let's just get away from here and head for supper."

There were still a few students that had just left Briner's classroom also, loitering in the corridor alongside them. Suddenly, a voice rang out.

"Astoria! What are you doing here?"

It was Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin in Ginny's year, tall and tough-looking, and she was approaching a small blonde girl, also in Slytherin robes, who had arrived in the corridor, presumably from her own last lesson of the day, and was pushing open the door of the Transfiguration classroom.

The girl jumped, and turned to faced Daphne, the door held open behind her.

"Daphne! Oh, I didn't know you'd still be here. I'm doing some extra work for Professor Briner tonight. He asked me earlier, and I agreed to help."

"Like fuck you are, little sister, after what I've just seen and heard. Get away from there; and go down to the Great Hall for your dinner."

Briner materialised at the door of the classroom, Susan hovering behind him looking pissed off, and he was visibly blanching at the number of his students that were still crammed into the hallway outside.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Greengrass? What was that filth I just heard from your lips?"

"I told Astoria that she wasn't to stay and help you. She's only a fifth-former, Briner, not even sixteen until December! What kind of fucking pervert are you?"

Even Draco seemed surprised at Daphne's daring, and gave a low whistle of shock, or it could have been admiration. Briner tutted, in a maddeningly condescending manner.

"Well, well. It seems that you too, Miss Greengrass, will be joining Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, and Mr Malfoy in detention tomorrow evening. We shall be quite a crowd. Remove yourselves, all of you, immediately."

He turned to the younger girl, smiling sycophantically.

"Miss Greengrass. Thank you for remembering my request for assistance, however, I have all the help I need in the form of Miss Bones. Do enjoy your dinner."

"Am I not in detention too, Sir?" Astoria asked.

"Why, of course not! You have done nothing wrong."

Astoria seemed to consider this for a second, looking around at the angry and concerned faces of her older sister and the throng around her.

"It seems like you're a bit of a dirty old fucker, Professor. The next time your hand accidentally touches my boob when you're demonstrating the correct wand movements, I'll hex it off. And if that girl behind you has any sense, she'll run screaming from your classroom before you have a chance to do the same to her. Don't ask me to help you after hours again, I could be halfway through my roast chicken by now, if I hadn't had to come up here on a fool's errand."

Once again, the corridor fell silent, gawping at this little fifth-year who'd just given the angry wizard what-for.

"Will that be enough to get an invite to the detention party, Sir?" Astoria said, in a mock-innocent voice.

"More than adequate, Miss Greengrass," Briner hissed, "and I'll have ten points from Slytherin, in addition, for your disgusting mouth."

"Completely worth it," Astoria shot back, not missing a beat. "I'll see you tomorrow evening, Sir, what a jolly group we shall all be."

And with that, she swung her bag over her shoulder and sauntered down the corridor, with her older sister in pursuit, firing questions at the younger girl. Briner viciously slammed the door of his classroom with a dull thud of finality, and Hermione heard the heavy bolt slide across, locking himself and Susan inside. The gaggle of onlookers began to disperse, Neville putting his arm around Hannah to guide her away, and Ginny catching up with her friends, leaving only herself and Draco in the hallway. His face was an absolute picture of total shock, and sheer admiration.

"Draco?"

"I love her."

Hermione laughed.

"Astoria Greengrass? I thought you might. Fiery little thing, wasn't she? She should have been a Gryffindor with that display of suicidal bravery."

"Sixteen at Christmas, did Daphne say? Damn, that's months away."

"Aren't you seeing Pansy Parkinson?"

"For now," he retorted. "With the younger Greengrass having a mouth, looks and body like that, I may have to rethink."

"You are a nightmare, Draco Malfoy."

"How would you know, Granger?" he teased, quirking an eyebrow and finally starting to walk away down the corridor.

Hermione followed him, hoping he was heading for the Great Hall since she was bloody starving, and rather enjoying the witty repartee with the unusual Slytherin who now appeared to be her new friend.

-xxx-

She arrived in the Great Hall for supper, and Draco melted away without a word, towards the Slytherin table. Neville was in their usual place at the very end of the Gryffindor table, and unusually, Hannah was seated with him.

"Ernie's sitting with the Ravenclaws," she explained, cocking her head towards the blue table, "so I didn't think anyone would complain if I sat here for tonight. Obviously, Susan's not here."

Hannah looked most unhappy as she said this. Hermione sat down, and her dinner appeared in front of her, the roast chicken looking fantastic. A discreet glance to the teachers' table gave her the slightest flash of jet black, indicating that Snape was taking his supper in the Great Hall, also.

"Hannah's been filling me in on what happened in Transfiguration," said Neville, already eating. "I know Briner's been a problem for the last week or so. I've told her she needs to go to McGonagall about it, but she won't."

"I don't want to make a fuss, Neville!"

"You wouldn't be making a fuss," Hermione reassured. "If Briner is truly a predator, then the Headmistress should know about it."

"I don't even know that," replied Hannah. "He's never touched me, or even said anything suggestive, he just makes me feel … really uncomfortable, I suppose."

"Did you hear what that Astoria girl just said, though?" asked Neville. "She said he touched her."

"It might not be true. She may have just been shouting her mouth off to get herself into detention with us, although Merlin knows why," Hermione told him. "If he had touched her, she'd be the type to report it immediately, wouldn't you think?"

"She certainly wasn't shy, was she?" Hannah observed, wryly.

They all smiled at the memory of the small, blonde Slytherin witch, letting the surprised professor have a mouthful. It had actually been rather impressive. No wonder Draco Malfoy had declared himself in love.

"I'm worried about Susan, though," Hannah continued. "Hermione, she, um …"

"I know. She told me. The other night, when the two of you had quarrelled. Susan told me that she had a crush on the professor."

Hannah breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness. I told Neville, and I knew he wouldn't have told a soul," she replied, looking at her new boyfriend with admiring eyes that Hermione loved, seeing Neville regarded in such a manner. "I just don't believe she's thinking clearly. I've told her that I don't trust Briner, and Susan's response is that I'm just trying to dissuade her from going after him. She, um … well this bit is embarrassing …"

"Just tell her," Neville prodded, gently.

"Susan thinks that Briner fancies me over her," Hannah said, quickly, blushing. "She's jealous."

"I think that's probably true," Hermione replied. "Perhaps asking Susan to stay, after you'd declined, was some pathetic attempt to cause trouble between the two of you. Briner is a grown wizard, he can probably see that Susan fancies him."

"I'm worried he'll take advantage of her."

"If he does, McGonagall will have him out on his ear," Neville said, firmly.

"She certainly will. But, unless something happens, and either someone catches them, or Susan makes a complaint, there's nothing we can do. It sounds awful, but Susan is of age, we all are. She needs to be free to make her own mistakes."

Hannah sighed, looking resigned but unhappy.

"Are you two seeing each other tonight?" Hermione asked, keen for a subject change.

Both the quiet Hufflepuff and the shy Gryffindor smiled, a red blush creeping to both their cheeks. It really was quite endearing.

"I'll take that as a yes," she grinned. "Have a wonderful evening. I intend to stay up very late reading a novel that Madam Pince has recommended to me, and then sleep very late into the morning. Goodness, I love weekends."

"Ordering breakfast through the Floo again?" Hannah asked.

"And lunch too, if I can get away with it."

"We promise not to come knocking on your bedroom door and disturbing you with offers of Quidditch watching or lunch alerts, then," reassured Neville, grinning broadly.

Hermione returned his cheeky smile with one of her own.

That was everything covered, then. She would lock her bedroom door; and have a cast-iron alibi for not leaving her chambers until after lunch the following day. Her stomach jumped in anticipation just thinking about it.

-xxx-

Later that night, after curfew had passed, Hermione stepped through the Floo connection between their rooms, taking Snape's offered hand as she stepped over the grate and into his living room. He did not let go of her hand, and instead pulled her towards him with one smooth tug, towering over her, and bringing his hands to her face, tilting her chin to look up at him, and thumbing her cheeks gently, as he looked down at her.

"My god, girl, I cannot get enough of you."

With that as his only greeting, Snape bent his head and kissed her, once, then twice on the lips, pausing only long enough to push one hand into her hair and cup the back of her head, and to wrap the other arm around her waist, before sliding his eager tongue into her mouth, making a pleasured noise as he did so, a sound of desire, and of relief. Hermione recognised it for what it was, for she felt the same. It felt so good to be pressed against him, snogging this grown wizard as if there was nothing and nobody else in the world.

As he circled her tongue with his, causing her stomach to flip-flop with excitement, Hermione reached up and unfastened the clasp of his teaching robe, pushing it off his shoulders, and the familiar black garment fell to the floor. He pulled back and raised that eyebrow of his.

"You would strip me, witch?"

"If you would let me."

He took a sharp intake of breath, and then leant forwards, insinuating his large nose through her messy curls, making a path to her ear, where he pressed his lips close to the sensitive shell, so that Hermione could feel his hot breath tickling there.

"Oh, I will let you. Believe me."

Stepping back from her, Snape flipped his wand neatly out from his sleeve, and cast a Divesto upon his long frock coat, the many buttons unfastening themselves, and the coat flying across the room to hang itself on the coat stand.

"That garment would have taken hours for you to remove manually. From this point, I am all yours. Should you … desire me."

His eyes were flashing dangerously black, endless pools of ink that she wanted to swim naked in. He was so inherently sexual, it just flooded out of him in waves. And yet, this prize appeared to be all hers to enjoy. Oh yes, she desired him. And he knew it.

Hermione ran her hands up the front of his white shirt, and he watched every inch that they travelled with great interest. Reaching the cravat that he wore at his neck, she untied it, disassembling the complicated knot and once it was released, pulling on one end so that it slithered torturously slowly through his collar, and she dropped it to join his cloak on the floor.

Unfastening his collar button, and the two below it, she lifted her hand to his scarred neck, trailing her fingertips softly across the snake-bite scar, treating the neglected skin there to her touch and attention.

"I know you desired to talk," he began, his voice low and a little hoarse. "But I do not think I can, without taking you to my bed, first."

"I haven't talked much yet, have I?"

"How unusual for you," he remarked, smirking, taking her hand and tugging her lightly, guiding her to his bedchamber, where she had once spent the night, and the bathroom where they had once showered together.

As they entered the room, he set the fire to burn higher, giving the chilly room both heat, and a flickering, golden light, that was as alive as she felt. He then placed his wand on the bedside cabinet. Hermione drew her own, and laid it next to his, and it felt like an extraordinarily trusting gesture, on both their parts.

He then swooped in towards her, grasping the hem of her t-shirt and pulling it up and over her head, throwing it to the floor. Perhaps he wasn't to be trusted after all, she thought, with a smile. Snape sat down on the edge of the bed, drawing her to stand before him, running his hands over her stomach and waist, leaning forward to kiss the bared skin there. Hermione felt herself flinch, with both surprise and pleasure.

She placed her hands on his dark head that was bent before her, playing with his long, fine hair and drawing a gratified moan from him as she did so. Still kissing her flat belly, he fumbled with the fastening of her jeans, undoing them and pulling them down her legs with some difficulty.

"Always with the tight jeans, Granger," he complained, trailing his hands down her legs in order to take the trousers right to her ankles, holding the material steady so that she could step out of them, and he nudged them out of her way with his foot.

Allowing her to stand before him, he gazed at her, his eyes drinking their fill of her body in its charcoal grey knickers and bra, and Hermione was again grateful for her new penchant for matching underwear. Everything she'd worn previously would just have been an embarrassment in a situation like this. As it was, the grey satin and lace made her look like a grown woman, rather than a girl.

"You are exquisite", he stated, trailing his fingertips over her cleavage, pushed up slightly in the well-fitted brassiere.

"Thank you, Severus."

The use of his name grabbed his attention, and he jerked his head upwards, meeting her eyes with his endless black ones that she couldn't get enough of.

"Hermione …"

She reached forwards; and began to unfasten the rest of the small buttons on his shirt, enjoying his large hands roving over her bottom as she did so; the firm, grasping movements making her feel desired, feel like an attractive woman, not a gauche schoolgirl.

When she reached the final button, he allowed her to push the white cotton from his shoulders, and Hermione stroked the pale skin there as she did so, following the shirt's path down his arms, before he lifted his arms to remove it. He handed her the removed shirt, raising his eyebrow as if in challenge. Not losing eye contact, she took it, and threw it meaningfully onto the pile of her own discarded clothing.

"Stand up," she instructed, and he complied without question, which was a novel experience.

Remembering how she had relieved him of his trousers the previous evening behind the tapestry, Hermione easily opened the buckle of his belt, and the button and zip of his trousers, but rather than letting them drop, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his undershorts, taking them down along with the trousers in one movement, and Snape stepped out of them both.

"Efficient, Miss Granger," he remarked, standing naked before her.

She ran her hands over his chest, reacquainting herself with the lean hardness of his muscle, the sparse black hair, and the ridged scars that were to be found every few inches, pinked and ropey on his white skin, arranged in irregular patterns. He held himself tense, but nonetheless placed his arms to his sides so that she could explore his body.

"Are you ashamed of your body, Severus?" she asked, quietly, as she continued to touch him, stroking her hand down his arms, feeling his strong biceps before reaching the dark hair on his forearms.

He swallowed hard.

"It is nothing to be proud of … Hermione. I am old, and battle scarred," he replied, quietly and deeply.

"Turn around."

When he did so, she ran her hands across his back, and there were a few scars there, too. Hermione placed her lips on his shoulder blade, kissing and licking her way across to the other one, hearing his tremulous sigh of pleasure. She allowed her bare stomach to touch the skin of his spine; and ran her hands up his arms to his shoulders and massaged there.

"Merlin, girl, you are too much. The attention you show me."

He whirled around and sat back down on the bed, his erection standing up proudly, and pulled her towards him, taking hold of her knickers and edging them quickly down her legs, allowing her to step out of them and flick them away. Holding firmly to one of her hips, he pushed his spare hand between her legs, rubbing her crotch with his flat palm, looking up as if to gauge her consent and approval. It was all she could do to stop her eyes fluttering closed with the strength of feeling that jolted through her, but there was nothing more erotic than gazing into the black eyes of this powerful, and still slightly terrifying wizard.

Snape began to edge her thighs further apart, allowing him better access to her most private parts, and Hermione felt a long finger sink inside her, and a thumb start to agitate her clitoris. She must have sighed, because an intense expression took over his face.

"Does that feel good, Hermione? Tell me. Tell me that I excite you, that I know how to pleasure you. I must know."

He flickered his thumb more firmly over her clit; and smirked as she let out another moan.

"It feels so good," she admitted, honestly. "I can't believe how good it feels to have you touching me like that."

She heard a whisper that was definitely 'fucking hell.'

"Remove your brassiere. Please."

He kept up his movements between her legs as she complied, and then slid his hand around to the small of her back as she dispensed with the bra, pulling her body towards him so he could capture one in his mouth, sucking her nipple and much of her breast into his mouth as he continued to masturbate her. The feel of him doing that, as well as flickering his tongue over her nipple like a fast-flying quill, was, quite literally, fucking amazing. And Hermione Granger very rarely swore.

"Stop."

Snape stopped immediately at her words, removing his hands and mouth from her, and looking up in concern. Hermione stepped towards him, wrapping her arms around his naked shoulders.

"We have all night, for a change. There's no rush. What I'd like to do, is give you … you know … oral pleasure."

A slow, devastatingly sexy smile spread across his face.

"You want to suck my cock?"

She grinned.

"Yours words, not mine."

"I couldn't care less how you describe it, girl, so long as you are doing it."

He stood up, cradling her in his arms, and waved his hand vaguely over the bed, causing the covers to fold themselves down to the foot, leaving an invitingly fresh bed to tumble into.

"Lay down," she instructed, the irony of telling Professor Snape what to do, not lost on her.

Hermione crawled on the bed, her pale-skinned lover laying flat on his back, his penis long and hard, pointing upwards, towards his stomach. He watched her intently, waiting for her next move, and he took hold of himself, beginning a slow slide up and down the shaft, as if priming himself for her mouth. She was nervous, but she wanted to do this. There was nothing to be scared of, and in fact, the only thing she was concerned about was getting it wrong and not giving him enough pleasure. Nothing else worried her. He would never hurt her.

She leaned forwards; and placed her mouth over the head of his cock as he was touching it, swirling her tongue around the bulbous tip, which was hard, but yet also soft. Hearing a rumbling moan from him, Hermione slipped her mouth down the shaft a little, just tasting, just feeling.

Just learning.

-xxx-

Holy fucking shit, Severus was getting the first blow job of his entire fucking life.

The girl's soft lips around his cock, her tentative licks and sucks showing her inexperience, the whole situation was fucking amazing.

He didn't care how it ended, whether he came, or whether she just played around, getting herself comfortable – the fact was, a witch had her mouth around his cock, willingly, and nothing else fucking mattered.

It was a lot of internal swearing, but he didn't give a single shit.

Severus could think on how brilliant this girl was, how intelligent, how magically talented, how young, or how beautiful – but the fact still remained she was sucking his cock. He immediately understood why some wizards lost their minds over a love affair.

Right at that moment, he would have promised Hermione Granger the world, the entire fucking world, if only she would keep her mouth moving on his dick.

Removing his hand from the slow wank that he'd begun, allowing her the space to find her rhythm, he put both arms behind his head, on the pillow, feeling like a million fucking Galleons. She placed her own small hand on the base of his cock, pointing it upwards so she could slide her mouth up and down the shaft, and her sucks were feathery soft, for she probably didn't realise she could be a whole lot firmer – he wouldn't break.

Nothing could stop Severus from closing his eyes, squeezing his arse cheeks together, and groaning in pleasured torture. He'd definitely let loose with a few swear words, already. When she slipped her hand down to cup his balls as she continued to suck on him, he thought he might actually explode, but he managed to hold on to his dignity, despite his ball sack actually growing harder as she fondled it.

He didn't know how long it had been going on for. All he knew was that it was fucking bliss.

A lurch in his gut told him that he was crossing the line from highly aroused, into the warning zone of about to come. He wasn't sure if shooting his spunk down her throat would be a very pleasant experience to end her first try at oral sex, so Severus made a quick decision.

Using one hand to gently ease her off his cock, he silenced her queries by rolling her onto her back and climbing atop her, nudging her thighs apart with his knees and lining his desperate erection up with her wet little hole.

"I want to come inside you," he offered, in explanation, pushing forwards into the heat of her tight cunt that he loved so fucking much, beginning to thrust straight away – back and forth, back and forth. There was no way he could hold anything back from this girl.

Something about the trusting, innocent look in her rich brown eyes, and the pinkness of her mouth that had just been wrapped around his worthless cock, made him feel both guilty and mad with lust at the same time. Severus rolled his hips around as he fucked her, noticing that her little gasps and pants were becoming closer together, and that she had a red flush around her chest and neck. Was she …?

He continued to thrust, enjoying every in-stroke and every out-stroke. Her breathing became heavier, and her face was sweaty.

"Fucking hell, girl, are you going to come?"

"I don't know," she answered, with some difficulty. "I think so. It feels … different."

Holy shit.

Driven almost to madness by her admission, Severus grabbed one of her legs and pulled it over his hip and around his waist, opening her pussy up wider so that he could piston inside her.

"Ohhh … I can feel that … deep."

She wasn't making much sense, nor giving him any direction, so he could only go on instinct, and every instinct he had wanted to hold back his own orgasm to see if he could fuck her to her own.

Her little hands were grasping his shoulders, digging her fingers into his flesh, urging him deeper and faster. His long hair was hanging lank from his head, shaking in front of his face with the pace he was thundering into her.

"Yes … yes, just there … oh god …"

If there was anything he'd ever wanted in his whole miserable life, it was to have a witch beneath him, calling yes, yes. Hermione cried out, and then her whole body began to shake, her pussy contracting around his dick like nothing he'd ever felt before. Thrusting through it, Severus roared as his own climax spurted from the end of his cock, feeling as if it were shooting out of a cannon.

"Holy shit!" he shouted, his balls slapping against her arse, completely soaked in the wetness that was spilling from her, a mixture of both her own orgasm and his spunk, no doubt.

He was loving every wet, sweaty, flushed, exhausting moment of it.

Stroking her hair as she came down from her peak, he loved that she was gasping for breath and swearing profusely. He had done that. He, Severus, the pathetic virgin, the ugly git that no witch would look twice at; had a stunning girl panting and cursing beneath him, having just orgasmed around his cock.

Falling onto the mattress beside her; and spelling a cooling sheet up from the end of the bed to cover their hot bodies, Severus kissed her sweaty face and pushed her hair out of the way, closed his eyes, and slung one arm across her still-heaving stomach.

He wasn't sure he'd ever wipe this enormous smile from his face.

The students and staff would all be fucking terrified.