Chapter 25
Severus cast his eye over the Great Hall, feeling a mixture of annoyance and boredom. He'd quite enjoyed watching Richard Briner, the sleazy bastard, sent to bed early by Minerva after attempting to grope Miss Abbott on the dance floor. How deliciously humiliating for him. Hopefully Briner would be fired, and a more effective Transfiguration teacher could be sought.
He tried very hard not to think of his own indiscretions, with a particular student.
Filius had been dragged out from under the staff table and removed from the Great Hall by a couple of house-elves, and the new Muggle Studies professor had already proclaimed herself exhausted and headed for her chambers. Staff numbers were dwindling, and although the first to fourth years had already been sent unwillingly to their common rooms, the older students were showing no signs of slowing down. Severus wished they would all just fuck off to bed so that he had a chance of seeking Granger out whilst she was still wearing that dress.
Andrea Masters spun over to the staff table, flushed from dancing, and was handed a glass of water by Minerva.
"Having fun, Andrea?"
"Oh yes," Masters replied. "What an excellent treat for both the students and us professors!"
The bloody woman, whom he had not forgiven for having the gall to grope his cock in the corridor, had been whirling about the floor with all manner of partners, mostly seventh-year boys who looked not to believe their luck.
It was true that she looked extremely attractive tonight, even more so than she normally did, dressed in a sumptuous gown of the darkest black, so close-fitting that it clung to her every curve. But he was still not interested. In fact, the more she pushed for his attention, the more repulsive he found her.
The music changed tempo, slowing down and finally signifying that the ball might be approaching a close at some point before dawn broke.
"Now, this is more my style!" exclaimed Pomona Sprout, heaving herself from the chair and taking the offered arm of Hagrid, who was inexplicably keen on dancing, despite being so physically unsuited to it.
The gamekeeper was a damn liability on the dance floor.
"Severus?"
Andrea Masters was holding her hand out to him. He raised an eyebrow in response, to convey his complete disinterest in what she was suggesting.
"Come, Severus. You've not danced all night, apart from the first with Minerva, and I noticed that you were rather skilled. Indulge me?"
He was about to open his mouth and tell her that he fucking would not, when Minerva herself jumped in.
"Tchh, Severus! Go and dance with the woman! Andrea has not another young wizard under the age of fifty here to cut a rug with her. On my orders – off you go!"
The headmistress clapped her hands briskly to suggest that she would brook no argument. Severus unwillingly took his loathed colleague's hand and allowed her to lead him to the dance floor, where she kept tugging until they were in the very centre.
"Do we have to do this in the middle of the floor?" he muttered, as he held out his arms for a formal hold, and she stepped into them, sliding her hand too far across his shoulder and dangerously close to his neck.
"I think this is the very best place to … do it, Severus," she replied. "For the young witch that is keeping you from accepting my proposal is likely here, watching you. Let us leave her in no doubt that you belong to me, and she is nothing but a dalliance for you."
"You have a nerve."
"I do, when there is something I want."
The sooner this dance finished, and he'd extracted himself from the clutches of this bitch, the better. Damn his respect for Minerva McGonagall that he would not make a scene during the event she had organised. Andrea's hand crept further upwards, so that her fingers were on the edge of his starched cravat, knotted over his collar.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he hissed, trying to create some space between them as she did the opposite.
"Do you think we look as if we are together, Professor Snape? Do you think the students might be remarking on what a handsome couple we make?"
"I sincerely hope not."
She dug the fingernails of her other hand into his upper arm.
"Adolescent witches are notoriously jealous creatures, especially if they have imbibed too much alcohol into their precocious little stomachs. If I am correct, we should soon see a young lady running from the Great Hall in distress, her poor heart broken by the devilish Potions master."
Andrea pulled a mock-concerned face that made Severus want to slap it.
"You are ruthless, in addition to being delusional."
"No confidence in your teenage toy, Professor?"
Severus kept his eyes firmly fixed on the demon in his arms, lest his gaze should inadvertently slip towards Miss Granger and reveal their association.
-xxx-
Hermione was standing in a cluster with Neville and Hannah when the music slowed, and Hannah tugged her boyfriend to the dance floor, with apologies for leaving Hermione alone.
Waving them off, she told her friends to enjoy themselves and not worry about her, smiling at the sight of them in one another's arms, both clearly smitten with their choice of partner. Neville deserved a loving relationship more than anyone else she knew; and getting to know Hannah over this term had been wonderful – she really was a kind, warm and straightforward person.
Other couples had made their way to the dance floor, and there was a fair bit of furtive snogging and groping going on. She smiled at the sight of Professor Sprout attempting to slow-dance with Hagrid – the two of them should have been awarded points for sheer perseverance in the face of great adversity.
Swinging her eyes across the floor as she took another sip of her wine, Hermione's eyes met with a sight that caused her stomach to drop down to her feet.
Snape was dancing with Professor Masters, and the two of them were very close indeed.
"Look at Snape and Masters!" came a voice behind her.
"Are they together?" said another.
"Suppose someone's got to shag the greasy git, eh?"
"They look right together, don't they? All that black!"
All around her, students were gossiping, staring at the two teachers dancing together. Hermione's heart began to beat very fast, and she took a large slug of her wine before putting the glass down on the table, wishing she hadn't, since she was feeling rather nauseous.
"He can't take his eyes off her!"
"Would you? Masters is bloody hot."
"Well, who would have thought it? Everyone deserves love, I suppose."
Snape was slowly whirling Professor Masters around the dance floor, and his eyes were locked on hers, the gossips had not lied. Hermione could see that one of her hands was practically around his neck, in a very intimate hold.
All Hermione could think about was her birthday, when she had seen Snape snatch his hand away from Professor Masters in the Three Broomsticks. They had discussed it, afterwards. He had not elaborated on exactly what had happened; but assured her that she was the only witch he was, or ever had been, intimate with. Hermione had believed him. They had learned intimacy together, in the most breathtaking of ways. Snape had touched her in places that made her toes curl; and driven her climaxes to the highest points before allowing her to release in an explosion of bliss.
So, what was … this?
Just as Hermione felt she was about to lose her head, she was being strong-armed on to the dancefloor, swept up in a wave of black dress robes and a tight hold. In a blur, she was whirled into the throng of slow dancers, supported by a steady frame and a hard chest. She looked up.
"What on earth are you doing?"
"Rescuing you, Granger."
"Did I give any indication that I needed saving, Malfoy?"
"When you look like you're about to vomit on your own shoes, yes. That is, unless you want the entire school to know that you're in love with Snape."
"What?"
"Old news, Granger. I've known for months."
"But, what did you, how …?"
"Your words appear to have deserted you," he teased, smirking in an irritating manner as he confidently moved her around the floor to the slow music. "So, let me save you the trouble. Near the beginning of term, I was lurking in a hidden window seat in a usually empty passage. The one just off the trophy corridor. You know the one, I'm sure?"
Oh … bloody hell. The night she'd attended supper with a distinct lack of knickers.
Her face must have given away her memory of that night, as he began to chuckle, quietly.
"After you left, I managed to scuff my foot on the window ledge, and Snape heard it. He was looking everywhere for the source of the noise. I was disillusioned, but he came fucking close. I was absolutely shitting myself … with what I'd just seen."
"And what did you see?"
"Do you really want to talk about that, Granger? Frankly the less I remember of Snape's hand up your skirt, the better."
Hermione felt herself blush to the very roots of her hair.
"I saw you again, another night. And no, I'm not stalking you. The stupid bastard kissed you at the end of the guest corridor, where bloody anyone could have seen you, not just me."
"Oh, my goodness. Have you …?"
"Told anyone? I'm a nasty bastard, Granger, not fucking suicidal."
The fact that Draco was still terrified of Snape brought a smile to her lips, and Hermione felt the panicked feeling begin to lessen slightly, allowing her to stop fighting against the dance that she and Draco were engaged in.
"So, why are we dancing?"
"You were about to reveal far too much. Bloody Gryffindor, feelings written all over your face. Half the staff probably think we're together anyway, if sleazy cunt Briner had anything to do with it, so, they'll just continue to think that, if they see us dancing together. Your secret fling with the Potions master stays a secret."
"Why would you want to help me?"
He paused for a moment, and the expression on his face suggested that he was thinking hard. Suddenly, Draco slipped his arms around her back in a far more intimate hold, and moved his face nearer, making her wonder if he was about to try and kiss her.
"Because," he whispered, "I know Severus. I've known him for many years. I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. The poor bastard deserves this. I'm not sure you do, since I'm presuming that he is a psychotic deviant, but you seem happy enough."
Hermione was lost for words. He'd known, all this time, and kept it to himself, only revealing his knowledge to assist her in keeping the secret? She'd never have believed it of Draco Malfoy. She felt herself fully relax into his hold, finally.
"Should I take it that you are on board with my plan, now? I'll have you know I had to think bloody quickly."
"Thank you, Draco."
He leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead. She hadn't expected it; and was surprised that her first thought was that he smelled amazing. Her second thought was what on earth he thought he was doing, and her face must have betrayed her consternation.
"Got to keep this convincing," he quipped, winking at her.
A small, blonde girl in an aquamarine ballgown pushed her way through the crowd that were watching the dancefloor, her eyes full of tears and clearly desperate to get out of the Great Hall.
"You did tell Astoria what you were doing?"
"Of course I didn't. I didn't think of anything beyond stopping you falling over. Fuck."
"Draco! The poor girl looks distraught. I think you may have just ruined the start of something beautiful."
"I'll go and find her in a while. That'll give me time to think of an explanation that doesn't involve revealing your torrid affair with a teacher."
"Do you mind?"
"Not at all."
They both smiled, and Draco's was warm and genuine. He really was proving to be a big surprise.
-xxx-
Whilst they were dancing, however unwillingly on his part, both he and Masters watched Astoria Greengrass run from the Great Hall in tears.
"Fifth formers, Severus? How very louche, even for a Death Eater."
"You are disgusting, Mrs Rookwood."
"Not as disgusting as you, sleeping with underage girls."
"Whatever has caused Miss Greengrass distress, I can assure you it has nothing whatsoever to do with me, Andrea, and I will thank you to keep your scurrilous mouth firmly closed."
"You can protest all you want, Professor, for it would appear I have staked my claim on you tonight. None of the girls will risk trying to take what is so clearly mine. I have good relationships with my students, they like and respect me, boys and girls alike. They will not want to ruin my happiness."
"Your happiness? You have talked yourself into believing that there is something between us, and I must caution you, yet again, to desist."
"I'm sure you will come around to my way of thinking, in the end," she replied, infuriating him even further by casting her eye around the dance floor with a benign smile upon her face. "Look at all these young couples, Severus. Young people partnered with those of the same age … just as they should be."
Her words kicked him in the gut, picking at the guilt that always festered beneath the surface; guilt that he was engaging in lewd acts with a witch young enough to be his daughter. He did not answer her. Andrea was still wittering, making the kind of small talk that one would expect from a partner, and it was grinding on his last nerve.
"… and look at Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger! Minerva said there was no way the two of them could be together, that their feud went back too far, but look at them now! What an adorable couple they make."
For once, the damn witch spoke the truth. Severus looked over at Malfoy and Granger with ill grace, for they did indeed look wonderful together, although with such a prize in his arms, Malfoy would have to go some distance to embarrass himself. They were chatting, conversing easily, and the way he was holding her … it was too intimate. It wasn't lewd, he had to admit, but it just seemed closer than a standard dance hold, such as the once he was trying to keep Andrea Masters in, although she was subtly fighting him the whole time.
Get your filthy hands off her, he thought, and a jealousy that he hadn't felt for twenty years rose up from his gut and threatened to spill rancid bile into his throat.
When Draco Malfoy retained his hold on Miss Granger and twisted her into the next dance, it was easiest for Severus to stay where he was, rather than stalking off into a black cloud of indignance.
Unfortunately, Andrea Masters couldn't have been more pleased.
-xxx-
An hour later, when the ball had ended; the stragglers were being rounded up, before being ordered to their dormitories. It was finally time for the clearance on the Great Hall to start, and for Severus' night patrol to begin. Firmly bidding the other staff a good night, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the hall, in the sheer hope that the Defence professor would not attempt to follow him.
Thankfully, it appeared that Pomona Sprout had Andrea otherwise engaged in magically clearing the tables, so she was not able to leave, even if she had wanted to.
As he left the Great Hall and crossed the entrance hall, where Filch was securing the main doors, Severus was accosted by Draco Malfoy and the older Greengrass sister, who practically collided with him, such was their pace.
"Curfew has passed, Miss Greengrass, Mr Malfoy," he told them, icily, not at all keen to extend pleasantries to Draco-fucking-Malfoy at present.
"We know, Sir, I'm sorry," panted Miss Greengrass. "But my sister, she's missing!"
"Missing? Explain."
"She was upset earlier, because of him," she spat, shooting a furious glare at Draco.
"It wasn't my fault!"
"It bloody was! You took Astoria to the ball; and ended up dancing with Hermione Granger! How could you do that?"
"I told you, I had to! I was going to explain to Astoria later, that's why I was in the common room, looking for her so I could tell her everything!"
Snape raised an eyebrow, silencing their quarrel with a single gesture.
"I'm sorry, Sir," apologised Greengrass, with a small cough. "Astoria's friends told me that they hadn't seen her since she ran out of the ball, and when I returned to the Slytherin common room a short while ago, a couple of second years told me that they seen her in the passageway outside the common room entrance, crying to Professor Briner, who had his arm around her!"
"That is the actual problem, since he's already assaulted one girl this evening," Draco pointed out, rather unnecessarily.
"Professor Briner was ordered to his private rooms hours ago," Severus told the students, his mind already searching for a rational explanation.
"I don't think he stayed there. It seems he was lurking around outside the Slytherin common room instead, Sir," Greengrass told him, her agitation building.
A distressed adolescent who believed her new boyfriend to be cheating on her would make easy prey for a predatory bastard like Richard Briner, who had seen his attempts thwarted earlier, in a very humiliating public display. So, they had been in the dungeon corridor, where would they have gone next, outside? No, it was December, and far too cold for that. It was unlikely that Richard would risk anywhere inside the castle, for he may be discovered. If Briner had taken the girl, where were the places they could remain undiscovered?
To his intense shame, Severus knew exactly where Briner would have taken her.
The only place he could be guaranteed privacy with Miss Granger was to secrete her in his own quarters. In his own, private bedroom, Severus had fucked her – many, many times, in there. Yes, and her own room also, but Astoria Greengrass was a fifth-former, resident in her a shared dormitory, so that would not have been an option.
It took one predator to know another, he realised, in disgust at his own actions.
"If your sister is with Professor Briner," Severus told them, "I believe I know where they will be. Please accompany me to the Transfiguration classroom."
Daphne Greengrass looked horrified, and Malfoy looked furious. Severus spun on his heel, striding noiselessly at a great pace towards the staircase, where a rabbit warren of corridors would lead them to the one that housed the Transfiguration classroom, and thus, Briner's private quarters.
Severus realised, as he sped through the stone corridors with his cloak flying behind him and gormless portraits gaping at them, how much he missed the headmaster's privilege of Apparating within Hogwarts. The anti-Apparation wards were no fucking use in an emergency, such as this.
Draco pushed open the door of the Transfiguration classroom and they walked in, to see the room empty, and nothing untoward. Malfoy and Greengrass looked at him, helplessly, as if wondering what the hell to do next.
"Use your brains," he sneered at both students, stalking straight past them and up the two stairs of the teaching platform, to the door at the very back of the classroom – Briner's professorial quarters.
He knocked hard at the door.
"Fuck off!" came Briner's voice from inside, followed a by the unmistakeable sound of a girl's scream, quickly muffled.
"Astoria!"
There was no time to waste. Severus drew his wand and cast the strongest Bombarda he could at the door, which crumbled beneath the might of his spell, blasting the door into a dozen pieces that scattered across the floor, the final piece hanging limply from the metal door hinge, swinging pathetically.
Briner was on the bed, red-faced and sweating with his trousers at his knees and his bare arse in the air, forcing himself viciously between the legs of the younger Miss Greengrass, who appeared to be fighting him every step of the way. The upper part of her formal dress had been ripped from her body, and the skirts were askew as Briner attempted to thrust his way past the copious yards of material.
Before Severus could raise his wand to immobilise the raping scum, Malfoy had pushed past him and thrown himself at the Transfiguration professor in the manner of a Muggle brawler, knocking him off the bed and onto the stone floor, throwing wild punches anywhere that his fists could reach.
Daphne Greengrass ran to the bed and scooped up her weeping sister, pulling her to sit up and embracing her tightly, pushing her straggled hair back from her red face and kissing her. The girl neatly summoned a blanket from the end of the bed and pulled it over the younger Miss Greengrass, covering her body to preserve her modesty and provide comfort. No doubt being found in this state by her male Head of House would be almost as distressing as the attack itself.
"Enough, Draco," he said, quietly, once he had allowed Malfoy to get in a good few punches, and a stamp to Briner's groin that would have him in pain for days.
He cast Immobulus, ensuring that the bastard could not escape the justice that would surely come his way, not that he really needed to – the man was rolling in agony. He indicated with a flick of his eyes that Draco should attend to the Greengrass sisters, while he cast his doe Patronus to summon both Minerva, and Madam Pomfrey, for the girl would surely need medical assistance. The doe looked a bit feeble, but then he supposed he had not cast it for a long time, not since he had sent it to Potter, that night in the forest.
Minerva appeared within a minute, Apparating directly into the room, as was her right as headmistress.
"Severus, what is going on … oh!"
Her eyes swept the room, taking in the immobile Richard Briner on the floor, his trousers down and his bruised cock miserably exposed. They then turned to the scene on the bed – a weeping fifth-former in disarray, being comforted by her sister.
"Miss Greengrass and Mr Malfoy alerted me to her sister's disappearance, as she was in some distress after an incident at the ball," he told Minerva, shooting an angry glare at Draco. "Richard was seen by some Slytherins to be loitering in the dungeon corridor, and later comforting the younger Miss Greengrass. They had not been seen since then. Suspecting this, we made our way here, where we found Richard raping Miss Greengrass on the bed."
"He wasn't raping me, he didn't get it in!" shouted Astoria, clearly distraught. "As if I wanted that sleazy bastard inside me!"
Minerva hurried over the bed and sat down.
"Astoria, my dear, Professor Snape has summoned Madam Pomfrey, and she will be here shortly. Are you hurt?"
"Hurt pride, mostly, but yes, I have some scratches and stuff."
Pulling her arms out of the blanket, Severus could see bruises already beginning to form. Clearly his Slytherin had fought the fully-grown wizard like a wildcat. Good girl.
"But dear, why were you here? Why would you be in a professor's private quarters?"
"Stupidly, I thought Professor Briner was being nice to me. I was upset."
"Which she wouldn't have been, if you hadn't been such a complete arsehole, Draco Malfoy!" interjected Daphne.
"Miss Greengrass!" admonished Minerva, towards the older sister.
"I was going to tell her!" shot back Malfoy.
"Tell her what? That you asked her to the ball to make Hermione Granger jealous?"
"What does Miss Granger have to do with this?" asked Minerva, confused.
"Malfoy was dancing with her, when he had asked my sister to accompany him to the ball," Daphne told her, seething with anger.
"I told you, I had to dance with Granger!"
"Why? Why would you have to dance with her?" the girl shouted back.
"Because she's my friend! And because the wizard she loves was all over someone else, and if I hadn't stepped in, I don't know what she'd have done! She was distraught – it was all over her face."
Severus felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dropped down his back. Granger – in love with someone else? Who?
"Dear me, what a lot of drama the idea of love causes," Minerva observed, as the school Medi-witch entered the room and was given a brief summary of what had happened.
After seeing that Astoria Greengrass was able to stand, Pomfrey escorted her out of the room to take her to the infirmary, still wrapped in the blanket and accompanied by her sister. Minerva, who had still not spoken a word to Richard Briner, now walked over to him, the disgust on her face plain to see. She released Severus' Immobulus, and he sat up, groaning in pain.
"Get up, Richard, and pull up your trousers. To think I was willing to give you a chance, after your behaviour in the Great Hall tonight, to explain yourself. You are a disgrace to the teaching profession. You will give me your wand, and accompany me to my office, immediately, where I have summoned the Aurors and they will be waiting for you. Severus, I presume you would be willing to bear witness of rape, or attempted rape, when his case goes to trial, to prevent Astoria from having to do so?"
"I will."
"Very well, then. My office, Richard. Now."
They left the room, with Richard Briner finally getting the retribution he deserved. Granger would be delighted when he told her …
Oh.
Hermione.
He whirled around to face Draco, who was just getting off the bed from where he had been seated next to Miss Greengrass.
"Not so fast … Mr Malfoy. You have some explaining to do yourself, I believe."
"Oh, come off it, Severus," he replied, insolently. "You and I have known each other for a long time now. We've seen one another go through sheer fucking hell before the Dark Lord. We're more than teacher and student, you know that."
Severus narrowed his eyes. What did the boy know?
"Who is Miss Granger in love with?"
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Draco rolled his eyes; and had the gall to smirk at him.
"Please tell me you're not that stupid?"
They stared at each other for a long time, both breathing hard. He couldn't know. He couldn't possibly know.
"It was you," he said, quietly.
"That night in the passageway off the trophy corridor? Oh yes. And let me tell you, Severus, I fucking nearly shit myself when you heard me."
Unbidden, a small smirk crept to his lips at the thought of the terror that Draco must have felt.
"Why were you concealed there?"
"I was there first, okay? I was tucked up in the window seat, disillusioned, just enjoying some quiet time, looking out over the grounds. That was at the beginning of term, things were so new and strange, back then. We'd all just returned … after everything that had happened. I suppose I was a bit maudlin. I didn't know you were going to stand right by where I was and start fingering Granger, did I?"
Severus felt his face flush with embarrassment.
"Draco …" he warned.
"I've kept it secret, haven't I? Even when I saw you a second time, kissing her goodnight at the end of the guest corridor when I had sneaked out one night. Not exactly careful, are you?"
"If you knew just many times … just how careful we have been."
"Good for you, then, Sir," Draco smirked, with an annoyingly satisfied expression on his face.
"I trust you will continue to keep your silence? It goes without saying that were we to be discovered …"
Draco held up his hands in surrender.
"I'm not saying a word. I'd be too fucking scared to."
The boy had performed well, Severus had to admit. He had offered himself as an ally and had proved he could be trusted.
"You said she loves me," he stated, quickly, before he could regret it. "Of course, she doesn't love me. This is purely a … mutually convenient arrangement."
Draco sauntered towards the door.
"You keep telling yourself that if you want, Severus. But Granger was almost falling over with jealousy when you were dancing with Professor Masters. I'd lay a hundred Galleons on the stupid lion being in love with you, however unlikely that seems."
And he left, leaving Severus at the scene of Richard Briner's despicable crime with a heart beating out of his chest, wondering what the bloody hell he should do now.
-xxx-
Striding down the hallways, cursing the anti-Apparition wards for the second time that night, Severus finally arrived at his own quarters, opening the door with a bang and securing it behind him.
He had to go to her.
He had to know.
Opening the Floo connection between their rooms, he poked his head into the green flames, looking around the familiar guest chamber. It was empty, and he could see the bathroom door, open, so he doubted she was in there.
He did not risk stepping through. If she were not there then her door was likely unwarded, and she could arrive at any moment, not necessarily alone. It would not be a wise move. Not bothering to take off his cloak or boots, he walked out into his dungeon classroom and cast a Point Me spell. It was not an entirely reliable way of locating someone, and only worked on your closest friends or family, since you needed to invoke a 'sense' of that person, but Severus found that he got a surprisingly strong signal – a tugging in the palm of his hand that would lead him in the right direction.
Since all thoughts of his night patrol duty forgotten, it was a good thing that all the corridors he happened upon were deserted. He wouldn't have given a shit, even if they weren't, for had a witch to find.
The tug of the Point Me spell led him up several flights of stairs, along many corridors and around many corners, until he reached the base of the clock tower. Up here? It seemed so, for he was feeling the pull to climb the narrow stairs, that led to the platform behind the giant clock face at the top of the high tower.
When he reached the last step, the tugging sensation in his hand disappeared. She was standing before the clock face, peering through the gaps as if trying to look out upon the grounds beneath. A sharp wind blew through the rafters, ruffling her hair and the skirts of the exquisite ball gown that she was still wearing.
"What are you doing up here?" he called, slowly and quietly.
-xxx-
He was here.
Hermione spun around to face him, holding out an arm for him to approach her.
"It was a quiet place to go and think, clear my head from the party," she explained.
"Are you quite alright?" he asked, reaching her and taking hold of her hand.
His hands were surprisingly warm against her cold ones.
"I am fine, but Sir, I mean, Severus … Draco Malfoy. He knows."
"I am aware of this."
"You knew he knew?"
"Not until this very evening."
"Oh. Me neither. Until he danced with me."
"Why did he dance with you, Hermione?" Snape asked, pulling her towards him.
"He felt sorry for me. He thought I was jealous of seeing you dance with Professor Masters."
"And were you?"
She looked up at him, and those black eyes seemed as if they were staring into her soul. She could not lie to him, and more to the point, she didn't want to.
"Yes."
He lifted his hand, and slowly stroked three fingers gently down her cheek, ending under her chin, which he tilted to look into her eyes, as if he were about to perform Legilimency.
"Why?"
Hermione could not answer him, for she did not know the answer herself. Snape had told her there was nothing between he and Professor Masters, so why had she been jealous?
"Draco Malfoy believes you to be in love with me," he continued.
She held her breath. Oh, bloody hell. Draco thought that? And had told Snape? Was she in love with him? Oh gods … she didn't know … she might be.
"You are not to love me, Hermione."
That pushed over the edge that she needed.
"Why not?" she asked, defiantly. "Are you not worthy of love?"
"Of course I am not worthy. You know who I am, you know what I have done," he shot back, roughly.
Hermione could only stare at him, helplessly. She could honestly say that she'd never found him more attractive; looking dangerous and black-clad in his dress robes from the ball, desire in his eyes and vulnerability spilling from his heart.
She squeaked with shock as he pushed her against the stone wall of the clock tower without warning, holding her there with his hips, and he seemed to be shaking, she could feel trembling where his body touched hers.
"You do not love me, girl. Do you?"
It was a warning, a growled threat; but one in which she heard self-preservation, self-loathing and desperation.
"It's possible."
"No," he whispered, pressing his mouth to hers. "No. I cannot allow that."
Hermione allowed him to open her lips with his own, his trembling mouth seeking her kiss; searching for her response. When she slipped her tongue out and began to twirl it around his with small, inviting movements; he groaned in frustration, and a slight shake of his head.
She lifted her arms and folded them around his neck, drawing him deeper into the kiss, tangling her fingers in his already mussed hair. Snape had one arm around her shoulders, protecting her from the wall, and the other on her hip, which she began to move against him when his own hips began a grinding movement, revealing his obvious erection.
"Now," she begged, quietly. "Here."
Another groan of resignation rumbled up from his chest.
"Witch, what you do to me. What it did, seeing you in this dress and not being able to touch you. Oh, I wanted to, believe me. And now I can …"
His hand found the high split in her skirts, and he delved between her legs, finding her naked underneath.
"I trust you did not attend the ball like this?" he asked, his raised eyebrow irrepressibly sexy.
"It felt right. I hoped we would be like this … afterwards."
"Fucking hell, girl, are you trying to kill me? Open your legs."
Hermione spread her thighs a little wider and Snape took immediate advantage, sliding two fingers between her labia and starting a slow roll on her clitoris, returning his mouth to hers and swiping roughly against her lips before pushing his tongue back inside with a pleasured growl. Merlin, this man could kiss. She'd never tire of it, especially when his hand was between her legs, arousing her with his skilled touch. Her hips writhed involuntarily against his hand, and he chuckled; a dark sound that suited him well.
"Do you desire me, little girl?"
"Fuck … yes."
Snape removed his hand without warning, and she felt him fumbling with the lower buttons of his coat, and then unfastening his trousers, allowing them to drop down his legs. Goodness, they were really doing this, having sex in the chill breeze behind a giant clock face.
He lifted her right off her feet, pressing her back against the cold wall, although she suddenly didn't feel all that cold anymore.
"Put your legs round my back," he instructed, in a low growl, running his hand down the back of her bare thigh to guide her into position.
Hermione crossed her legs around his waist, and he sank himself inside her with one long thrust, sending spasms of excitement rushing through her body.
"Ohhh …" she cried, grasping his shoulders, which were still clothed in the formal black robes he had worn to the ball.
"Indeed," he replied, through a clenched jaw, before drawing out and plunging back in again, eliciting much the same response.
There was no kissing, for the professor was expending a great deal of energy both holding her up against the wall; and thrusting into her. Instead, she could look upon his face, with the grim determination of his jaw, the way his long hair bounced on his shoulders in time with his movements, and the naked desire in his black eyes.
Every thrust he made pushed deep inside her, bumping against that spot, that hidden place that only he had ever touched, edging her closer to orgasm. Hermione slipped one hand behind his neck, stroking his face as she went, insinuating her fingers into his hair and scrunching up a tight handful.
"You do not love me, do you, Granger?" he asked, keening from her touch of his sensitive scalp.
She didn't answer him.
She could not, for Hermione did not know what answer to give.
In love, with Professor Snape? A few months ago, that would have been a ludicrous idea. But now? Now, it was very hard to form a coherent answer when he was shagging her so thoroughly against the wall of the clock tower, dressed to all intents and purposes in his full teaching regalia. He was so dangerous, so compelling … so alive.
He held her tightly under her bottom, pushing upwards and into her. Again, and again, and again, releasing grunts of both effort and pleasure as he did so. Leaning forwards, he put his lips on her ear.
"Do not love me, Hermione, for I am a bad man, and I will hurt you."
She opened her mouth to protest, but he smothered her words with his lips, and swirled her disagreement away with his enticing tongue.
Hermione couldn't focus, for his unceasing rhythm had driven her so close to the cusp of her orgasm, that a few more strokes would push her over. Snape knew it too.
"Come, girl," he encouraged, speeding up his thrusts, pounding into her harder and deeper.
"Uhhh. Oh. Oh!"
"Yesss," he hissed, as her climax began. "Yes, Hermione. Come for me, come for … nnnghh!"
He let out a long groan of release as he jerked against her, spurting his own orgasm a moment after hers.
"Gods … oh god … Hermione …"
Snape's fingertips dug into her bum cheeks and the tops of her thighs as he rode out the aftershocks of an intense climax. The wind whistled around the clock face and through the rafters of the stone clock tower, and her bare shoulders began to feel cold against the wall. He remained inside her, his face buried in the side of her neck, calming his rapid breathing.
After a while, he lifted his head and looked her directly in the eyes, those black orbs still with the power to burn her soul.
"You cannot love me. Please."
He dropped his head and began to kiss her, with a lightly caressing movement that was so gentle, it made Hermione want to weep for him.