WARNINGS: Sexual situations, language
Don't stop me now, I'm having such a good time
I'm having a ball
Don't stop me now
If you wanna have a good time, just give me a call
Don't stop me now ('cause I'm having a good time)
Don't stop me now (yes, I'm havin' a good time)
I don't want to stop at all
Yeah, I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars
On a collision course
I am a satellite, I'm out of control
I am a sex machine, ready to reload
Like an atom bomb about to
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh explode
"Don't Stop Me Now" - Queen
Hermione had experienced 6 first kisses, each of which had foreshadowed the relationship (or lack thereof) to come.
There had been her very first first kiss; the fumbling touching of lips with Viktor Krum, which had ended before it had been anything more than a whisper.
There had been her first kiss with Ron, which could best be described as begrudging.
There had been her first kiss with the first man she had had sex with; a kiss that felt like drowning, each person trying to pull the other under and save themselves.
Now there was the kiss with Severus. It tasted like a challenge; it said, "I dare you." Or perhaps it was "do you dare?" The kiss was a question and a statement. It begged her to rise to the occasion.
For a moment, Severus Snape was kissing her back. He was kissing her hard, like he wanted to punish her, like she had wronged him. And then, he was thrusting her away from him, shoving her backward.
Hermione probably would have tripped over her own feet and done something utterly graceful, like fall right on her bum, but he only pushed her to arms' length. He held her by the shoulders, and she could feel the heat of his palms burning through her jacket and blouse.
His eyes, always dark, now seemed to be entirely pupil and if it wasn't her imagination, his breathing was a little heavy. Hermione could feel her heart pounding. Merlin, she wouldn't be surprised if Severus could hear heart pounding.
"Hermione…." The way he breathed her name sent a shiver down her spine. It was deep and dark, velvet rubbed backward across skin. She very much hoped he'd say it again… maybe a few times and possibly at a slightly higher decibel.
At the thought, Hermione felt herself blush. Heat suffused her face, but she held eye contact with him. After all, if she had fought in a war she could bloody well maintain eye contact with the man she had just accosted. At least, that was what she was telling herself. It was working so far.
"I need to know what this means."
The way Severus was looking at her was the way you might eye a piece of utterly decadent chocolate cake while on a strict diet. You tell yourself you'll only have one forkful, but deep down you know you won't be able to stop there. You know you'll feel guilty about the indulgence in the morning; Hell, you'll feel guilty about it five minutes after the fact, but sweet Circe you want that cake.
You are going to eat that cake.
Wild Hippogriffs couldn't stop you.
"It means nothing, and it means everything," Hermione huffed in exasperation, "Do I really have to explain? Can't we just—well, I don't want you to shut up, but how about I shut up and kiss you again?"
"I'm afraid you do… have to explain that is."
"It means nothing. You don't owe me flowers or breakfast in the morning. I won't even be here in the morning. There's no need to phone or send an owl. I won't be sitting around waiting for you to ask me on a date. It means nothing."
Hermione watched him as she spoke, choosing her words with a surgeon's precision. She had no illusions about him. He wasn't looking at her like she was irresistible cake because she was Hermione Granger.
He was looking at her that way because he was a man and she was a reasonably attractive woman, and he probably hadn't had anyone put the moves on him, so to speak, in a long, long time.
Hermione knew from experience that it felt damn good to be wanted by someone. Especially when you weren't your own biggest fan.
She also knew that sometimes, when you were starved for physical contact, you'd feast on any version that was offered.
"It means everything. I want you, Severus Snape, to take me to bed… or your sofa or possibly the kitchen counter, if you're feeling unconventional. If you tell me to leave, I will. I'll go home and read a book. What I'm trying to say is that this is about you and me, not me wanting to get laid."
Severus didn't say anything. He stared into her eyes with as much bruising force as he had used when kissing her. His eyes gave away nothing.
"I don't understand you," he finally admitted.
"You don't need to."
"This is a very bad idea," he warned, and she couldn't help wondering if he was talking to her or himself.
"Maybe."
He kissed her again. Suddenly. One moment she was at arms length and the next she was pressed against him. His lips slanted across her mouth and came down with a crashing force, a wave dragging her under. Her stomach clenched with desire. This was the forkful of cake.
He pulled away from her again, one hand tangled in her curls.
"You're going to regret this."
"Maybe." She shrugged, or did the best shrug-like motion she could while in his grip. "I'll definitely regret it if I don't."
"I'm not a saint," he warned her. Hermione snorted. She couldn't help it. In response, the corner of his mouth quirked up.
"Hush," he admonished.
"Make me," she dared.
That earned her a full and rather devilish grin. His lips collided with hers again. She slid her fingers through his hair, relishing the silkiness of the strands. He disentangled himself from her.
"Hermione…."
"What now?" The voice her head whined and for once, it and Hermione were in agreement.
"Please, don't let me hurt you." He was entirely serious. His tone breathy but pleading. She gave him a quick nod.
And then she yanked his head back down to hers, kissed him hard and bit his lower lip.
They staggered backward like two drunks coming in at 2 in the morning. They knocked into the wall, breaking their kiss long enough for Hermione to laugh. She absolutely adored his dilated eyes, tousled hair, and lack of grace.
She also was a big fan of what she could feel pressing up against her leg.
She, Hermione Jean Granger, was the cause of it, all of it, and it was bloody brilliant.
She felt powerful and in control.
She felt alive.
Hermione wasn't exactly sure where they were headed, and frankly, she didn't care. For the first time in a long, long time, she wasn't thinking. She was living in the moment and the moment was (dare she say it in conjunction with Severus Snape's name?)—fun. There was no confusion, fear, pain, or anger. There was just the taste and feel and smell of him everywhere, and it was unapologetically terrific.
Somewhere far, far away she felt a niggling of that doubt, the post-chocolate cake guilt, but she shoved it, hard, away from her.
And then she became aware of something else… a rapping.
Severus pulled away from her, apparently also becoming aware of the noise. Once his lips were no longer touching hers, Hermione was able to think again.
"I think someone is at your door," Hermione whispered, as if they were randy teenagers about to be busted.
She literally watched a change come over him. His features sort of darkened and hardened. Shields coming down, pulling tight around him. Hermione wondered if that's what she looked like at public events. Just totally closed off. It was a remarkable difference. Here was the professor she remembered from her Hogwarts days.
He let go of her and took a step back. She was a little too aware of the absence of his hands.
"There shouldn't be."
She realized that they had both, at some point in the lat 15 seconds, drawn their wands. Apparently anything even the least bit unexpected still qualified as an automatic threat for both of them.
A silent understanding passed between them.
Hermione stepped back so that she'd be concealed behind the door when he pulled it open.
Severus stepped around her and opened the door just enough for his face and part of right shoulder to be exposed. His wand was in his right hand which was braced, out of sight, on the door frame. His left hand gripped the door knob tightly. Hermione placed a hand on the back of the door, ready to shove hard if needed.
"Can I help you?" His voice was colder than ice. It was below zero at 3 a.m. cold.
"Is Hermione Granger here?"
At the sound of her name, Hermione felt the first tendrils of true fear. Before, she had been apprehensive, nervous, uncertain, but not afraid. Any remaining desire that had pooled in her stomach coalesced into thick, heavy dread. She clenched her fingers tighter around her wand.
No one should know she was here. How could they?
The voice in her head was hissing curses, both profanity and actual curses that it was suggesting she lob at whomever was on the other side of the door.
"No."
"Are you sure she isn't standing right behind that door?"
Hermione's heart stuttered to a stop before bursting back into action, thudding painfully against her breast bone.
The language the voice in her head was using got progressively darker and more creative. Several of the suggested curses would land her Azkaban.
Hermione tasted adrenaline in the back of her throat. She took a deep breathe and let it out slowly, quietly.
"Can I help you?" Severus repeated, and while Hermione would have found it hard to believe, his voice dropped another few degrees. Make that below zero at 3 a.m. plus howling wind and sleet.
She couldn't see his face but she was sure it was absolutely terrifying at that moment.
"I'm a messenger from the Ministry. I have a very important missive that must be delivered to her immediately."
This news didn't have a soothing effect.
How did someone from the ministry know she would be here? A reporter following her was one thing, but someone that worked for the Wizarding government? Especially given the changing times…..
"I'll see that she gets it." Severus held out his left hand.
"I need to deliver it to her directly to ensure she receives it."
Hermione was about to force herself to pull the door wider and step into view, but Severus placed his left hand back out of sight, behind the door, and held up a palm at her. A very clear "stop" gesture.
"You can leave the letter with me or you can take it with you and deliver it to Ms. Granger another time. Either way, you'll want to be off my front stoop in the next 60 seconds." His tone brooked no discussion. He held out his left hand again.
"Are you threatening a ministry employee?"
"Yes."
"That's really not wise Mr. Snape."
"45 seconds."
Silence stretched out and Hermione could only imagine they were having some kind of staring contest, a battle of wills.
Finally, after what felt like hours, but must have been less than 45 seconds, Severus pulled his left arm back inside, this time holding an off-white envelope.
After another few seconds, he shut the door and Hermione instantly felt magic push outward. He was expanding his wards. Instead of just covering the interior of the house, he had extended them to at least the immediate exterior.
He stared at Hermione for a long moment. She tried to figure out just how mad he was.
"I'm sorry."
He raised an eyebrow at her.
"I—I would've sworn I wasn't followed. I mean, I was on the lookout for reporters but still… I was careful."
She waited for him to yell at her… or worse, say nothing. She'd take biting sarcasm over silence any day.
"Maybe you weren't followed."
"Then how… the same reason you didn't want me to write to you? You think someone might be monitoring my owls?"
"Maybe."
He was being characteristically elusive.
Hermione bit her tongue, holding back further remarks. She squeezed her hands into fists, trying to stop the shaky feeling coursing through her as the adrenaline subsided.
He held out the letter to her. Hermione took a deep breath, as if preparing herself for a painful experience, and took it from him.
She wasn't sure she should open it here. Whatever it was, it wasn't going to be pleasant, surely, but she also couldn't imagine not reading it right now. Walking around with this undetonated bomb in her purse would be unbearable.
Biting her lower lip, she broke the seal.
Official Ministry of Magic Documentation
Passport Office
Dear Ms. Granger
We regret to inform you that someone recently tried to forge international documents, specifically a passport, in your name.
Fortunately, this forgery was discovered by diligent Ministry employees before any crimes were committed or any damage could be done to your illustrious reputation.
However, as a precaution, we will be suspending your current passport effective immediately for the duration of our investigation into this incident. A new passport will be issued to you within approximately 90 days.
Please rest assured that we do not suspect that you were in any way involved with this incident, but we do want to fully investigate the security breach and ensure that there aren't more forgeries in your name in circulation. The best way to do that is revoke any passport in the name of Hermione Jean Granger. We're sure that you understand and support this decision.
We apologize for any inconvenience but know that you support all of our endeavors to make Wizarding Britain a safer place.
Sincerely,
Zachary Sawyer
Head of the Passport Office
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So sorry for the long delay between chapters. I didn't mean to leave you hanging there. Sadly, I do not think my boss would accept "I have a fan fiction to update!" as a reason for not working. Although, admittedly, I didn't actually run it by him.
Thank you so much for all of the reviews, follows, favorites, etc. Just to respond to a few of you...
Lisa - I think maybe you saw this (the inability to "get out of Dodge" as you put it) coming. What will our girl do now? And she is being a little cavalier (in this author's humble opinion). What about Severus, the newly recovered Ron, and everyone else? Perhaps Hermione has swung a little too far the other direction... from caring too much (Letters to the Dead) to caring too little (Letters to the Living)? I'm getting there. I promise.
WizardSmurf - Hopefully there will be no more breaks! (Mini or otherwise.)
FrancineHibiscus - Thank you for spotting my slip up. You're right. It was "fake" Moody. I always thought that it was something Hermione would (and probably should) do, so I guess I just re-wrote it in my head. :)
Mundy - Thanks for following me to this story! Love that you're still on-board. Yep, definitely a different vibe. Keep in mind that we're about 10 years out. In Letters to the Dead, the war was still very fresh. Hermione was practically still in the war. Time has passed, and time can heal a lot, but those things don't always heal right. Broken bones have to be reset. So... our girl is better-ish, but probably not a shining example of mental health, as Severus would say. ;)