A/N: Hello, hello, my dearest readers, and welcome back to 'Accommodations'! First off, I profusely apologize for this long hiatus. It was completely unexpected and unwanted, but I had a couple of things in my life to deal with (breakup / moving / thesis writing / facing the very real risk that I might be out of a job after graduation, even though I'd been so certain my company would be keeping me on / job application writing / finding out that my flatmate doesn't actually have permission to rent out his room to me and thus facing the very real risk of being kicked out of here, just a short time after having moved in / job interviewing / dealing with my boss for a few more weeks who appears to hate me for finding a new job even though he was the one to kick me out of the company in the first place / the usual stuff that single women might fret over). I've been rather high-strung and occasionally been quick to anger, so I apologize to those of you who might have suffered because of that. And of course, I am immensely grateful to all of you for being as patient as you all have been! Thank you, thank you, so much!
Now, during these coming few weeks until the end of September, I will try and get as much writing time in as possible, because the job I will be starting afterwards might not allow for much time or for the peace of mind to sit down and write. I will do my utmost to keep 'Accommodations' from dying, I will promise you that. I cannot promise you, however, that another hiatus won't be coming up at some point.
Alright, then. I will not be warning you against upcoming triggers, because you know that this story contains violence and sex, so yeah. I expect you to be prepared for any unpleasantness in the future - as much as one can be prepared, anyway.
This chapter is a huge one. In fact, it's the longest chapter in the history of 'Accommodations'. My sincere thanks go out to Timelady92 for giving this beast a once-over to check for plot holes. If any of you still find any plot holes or are left with any questions, please do let me know! I will do my best to fix any plot holes (and I do so love it when you find them, I truly do!) and to answer your questions to the best of my abilities.
And finally, here we go! Do let me know your thoughts, if you will. Your feedback makes me happy.
Enjoy!
Marcella xxx
Saturday, February 7th, 1996
On top of the Astronomy tower, now so many, many nights ago, Hermione had been too surprised at the notion that Professor Snape would resort to spanking her to count properly upon the first attempt. This time, tonight, she was too out of sorts with the need for him he aroused in her that counting became something of a Herculean task. The professor had her start again a few times over, so by the end of it, Hermione was not only incapable of telling up from down, but also unable to say how many slaps her abused but happy bum had taken.
The professor had been right, of course, in implying that pain was a rather nice complement to the pleasure he saw fit to bestow upon her. Every beautiful imprint that his hands - his actual, physical hands, this time - had left upon her skin had added to the stunning picture the professor had been painting. The end result was an intense red that was outright glowing in the heat it both emitted and instilled. The slight, but ever increasing sting of pain that came with every slap had contrasted the pangs of pleasure that accompanied the professor's thrusts into her willing core. Highly sensitized as she had already been, the sensory overload had been too much for her, and she had clamped around the Potions Master's raging hardness once more. He, never one to be left behind, had been quick to follow, releasing his essence into her scorching centre.
And thus it was that they were resting together from their vigorous bout of 'detention'. Hermione still lay upside down over the sofa's backrest while the professor was standing above her, holding her legs as he withdrew, tucking himself away. Bidding her lock her legs behind his neck for a moment, he rested his hands against her sore bottom cheeks. A warmth spread through her tender flesh that had nothing to do with the heat his spanking had caused, and Hermione felt instantly better, the sensation merely slightly tinged with the pang of disappointment that came with having the Potions Master's work on her body disappear.
"This numbing charm I applied will dull the pain," the professor explained. "However, it is important for the Lord Governor to see the traces I have made upon your body, so that he will come to his own conclusions. As it is, I cannot afford to completely heal your behind, nor to clean you."
It went unspoken between them that he had no desire to clean his essence from her body either way; they were both well aware of that fact, after all. Implied as well was his reluctance to diminish the reddish glow that her globes now emitted, and Hermione struggled to hide her relief that his imprint upon her skin was not to disappear into thin air without as much as a by-your-leave.
Aiding her in righting herself into an upright position and patiently waiting for her to settle while the blood left her head to rightfully distribute itself to other parts of her body, the professor helped Hermione off the couch. At his command, Hermione set to dressing herself in her school uniform once more, and started when the knickers she had just been in the process of picking up flew from her hands. Turning around, she saw them disappear into the professor's coat pocket.
"Sir?" she queried, afraid she might have done something wrong.
"You will not be needing these anymore for the remainder of tonight's detention, Miss Granger," the Potions Master simply stated. "The same goes for your robes." At her astonished expression and her prolonged hesitation, he added, almost impatiently, "You may proceed."
Flitting into action, Hermione quickly drew her skirt up her legs, stepped into her discarded shoes, latched her bra behind her back, and pushed her arms into her blouse. In the process of buttoning up, she turned around to face Professor Snape once more.
"Now, while we wait for the Lord Governor to join us," he said, eyes travelling up the length of skin visible through the curtain of her open blouse, but gradually disappearing with every button that she eased through its respective hole, "I suggest you make certain that your shields are intact. We would not wish to show the Lord Governor more than we must, now do we, Miss Granger?"
It was all Hermione could do to hold onto the walls that never stopped surrounding her mind these days before she felt the professor's Legilimentic force slam against them.
There was no use in a full-on brute force attack against the girl's mind tonight, Severus knew. He did not assault her in order to prove that he could break in, as they both knew he did, thus tiring the girl out and leaving her vulnerable to whoever might try and Legilimize their way into her mind later. No, this was an exercise in attention. As it was, Severus applied broad pressure on the girl's mind from all sides, circling around her walls and testing them for a way in, for any nook or cranny he might exploit. He was proud to say that there were none, or at least none obvious enough for somebody as little skilled as Lucius to use and break into her mental inner sanctum. And even if Lucius should succeed in that, Severus was sufficiently certain that the girl was capable enough in Occlumency to mislead Lucius, if he were to ever make his way into the her mind, against all odds.
Thus, Severus maintained the pressure upon the girl's mental shields, simply to keep her on her toes and to maybe train her resilience and endurance this way. He made her skip about the room, fulfilling mundane tasks and rolling them back to set things to rights before Lucius arrived. Severus himself was sitting in an armchair by the fire, and the girl was just bringing him a few fingers of Odgen's, when the flames flared a venomously bright green and an imposing figure in ornate black robes and the whitest of platinum blond hair stepped through.
"Lucius," he greeted the man far more cordially than he felt, "welcome. Miss Granger was just bringing me a drink."
"Yes, I can see that," the regrettably handsome aristocrat drawled, shamelessly ogling the girl's backside. She did provide a fine sight for him, indeed, at this moment, as she was in the process of handing Severus his heavy crystal tumbler. Bending down, rather than just reaching out to him, she offered up the glass. Severus could just imagine her skirt riding up, granting Lucius, who was standing behind the girl, a full view of her knickerless bottom, still reddened from the imprints his hands had left upon her glorious globes. He could see the pureblood's pupils dilate as he fixed his eyes upon the girl's asset, so graciously displayed for his perusal.
"Would you like some, as well?" Severus offered.
"Oh, yes, old friend," Lucius drawled, "I believe I would like some of that, indeed."
A pause crept in between, heavy with the elder wizard's innuendo, them as the girl righted herself and looked at Lucius, silently waiting for his drink order.
"What are you having, Severus?" Lucius asked, ignoring the girl even though his eyes never left her figure. "To drink, I mean?"
"I am having a glass of the 1789 Odgen's that you were so generous to provide last week," Severus replied, fighting the urge to glare daggers at the presumptuous aristocrat, electing to go for a coldly polite mask of Slytherin hospitality instead.
Lucius, having accepted the offer of a glass of the precious bottle of rare firewhiskey he had left at Severus's quarters for safekeeping the previous week, settled himself in the armchair opposite his friend, his eyes following the girl as she busied herself with getting his drink. When she walked over to him, she bent down, much as she had done for Severus, to offer him the heavy tumbler. Severus knew from experience that her angle would grant Lucius ample opportunity to gain more than the hint of a glance at her cleavage. Generously more than a hint, at that.
"It is a great pleasure, I assure you, Miss Granger," Lucius drawled, "to be having you tonight."
His voice was soaked in unnecessary innuendo, as if the girl wasn't all too well aware of what would be expected of her on this fateful night. To top things off, the self-styled school governor held out his hand to the girl. Severus was once more glad to have prepared the girl for all eventualities, as she now gratefully knew to drop into a curtsy in order to kiss the Malfoy sigil ring that graced Lucius's right index finger. Taking his hand in her much smaller one, she held it as her lips pressed against the cool metal. Before she could get up again, however, a strong tug on her hand had her go sprawling to the floor, coming to land hard on her knees.
Only a small wince escaped the girl's lips, and Severus knew that even that small utterance of pain was for Lucius's benefit only. The girl had long learned to keep the outward acknowledgement of pains such as this one to herself, but it would not do to disappoint the pureblood who was only all too keen on causing the girl every discomfort. As it was, her knees would certainly be bruised.
Severus had to violently fight the urge to hex Lucius into the next millennium for making the girl kneel between his legs. As far as he was concerned, she had no business being there, and Lucius had no right to force her into that position. But alas, there was little he could do but watch and hope for the best.
In hindsight, Hermione knew that she should have been smart enough to expect such an unexpected move as the Lord Governor's pulling her to her knees between his legs. She admonished herself for her lack of foresight and was determined not to be surprised by him like this any further.
That determination flew out the window, however, as the Lord Governor did something even more preposterous by gently pushing her head to rest against one of his thighs. The soft fabric of his slacks caressed Hermione's right cheek, as did the Lord Governor's hand caress the left one, stroking the taut, young skin of her face tenderly, almost lovingly, with one hand while his other held the firewhiskey Hermione had handed him. Taking a sip every once in a while, his right hand continued to pet Hermione's cheek. He watched her for a minute or so as if making sure that she succumbed to his caresses, yielding to the position into which he had forced her, before his eyes returned to her professor. His hand would not stop in its gentle ministrations to her cheek, though, and Hermione felt strangely comforted by that. Rationally she was well aware, of course, that even this tender position was a highly dangerous one for her to find herself in with a known Death Eater and pureblood supremacist. The thought alone that she might find any sort of comfort in this was highly disconcerting, but there was nothing she could do against that fact.
She had become used to post-coital cuddles with Sirius while at Grimmauld Place, of course. He had been ever reluctant to cease touching her body, even if it was simply something as innocent as a hug, or his thigh brushing hers underneath the dinner table, or his fingers stroking her hand as he walked by her in the corridor while others were watching. But this, this position with Lord Malfoy stroking her face, appeared almost like - dare she say it? - pre-coital affection? The notion alone was unfathomable to her, and the sensation of actually experiencing it was even more so.
"I must say," she was pulled from her inner musings by the Lord Governor's voice, "I am surprised to see that physical punishment has not completely been banished from these sacred halls. I am glad."
"Well," the professor replied in his usual drawl, "there are some measures that seem to resonate better with Miss Granger than others. It was simply an issue of finding the one method that would properly... sink in."
Hermione fought the shudder at the emphasis the professor had put on those last few words, as if the innuendo would not have been obvious enough without his highlighting that particular phrase.
"And tell me, Severus," the Lord Governor queried further, "would you say that Miss Granger has learned proper oral conduct yet?"
At this question, his slate grey eyes met hers, his amusement clearly visible behind the cruel tilt of his lips, even though his eyes portrayed a curious mixture of cold interest and warm affection. Hermione's heart dropped a little at the realization that even though she might have learned to read the professor's unreadable expression to some extent, coming to understand another Slytherin's facial clues would be a whole new study in and of itself.
"Miss Granger practically begged me to instruct her after last weekend," the professor said, and Hermione could hear the degrading smirk in his voice, "so that she would not disappoint you upon your... inspection of her detention tonight."
"On her knees?" the Lord Governor asked.
"Begged or learned?"
"Both," Lord Malfoy clarified.
"Both," came the amused confirmation, and for a moment the professor's cold chuckle was joined by the man who was still busy stroking Hermione's cheek.
"I told Miss Granger, however," the Potions Master continued, "that true learning can only be gained from the best of instructors."
The Lord Governor's eyes returned to Hermione, fixing her gaze with his as if daring her to look away.
"And are you prepared, Miss Granger?" he asked. "Are you prepared to learn from the best?"
Hermione found that her voice was nowhere to be found, having disappeared somewhere under her nervousness, and was forced to nod her reply instead. Her cheek rubbed against the soft wool of the Lord Governor's trousers, and she watched in trepidation as he set his tumbler onto a side table, her eyes unable to help their curiosity. If he minded that she unlocked their gazes, he did not say so. His right hand never left her face, still stroking her tenderly, while his now empty left hand came to his crotch. Giving himself a squeeze through the fabric of his slacks, Hermione saw the outline of his already hardened cock, and swallowed thickly, as if that would cover the widening of her eyes. It did not, as the Lord Governor's self-satisfied chuckle proved.
Unable to drag her eyes away from where his hand worked on undoing the buttons of his trousers, Hermione knelt as if frozen and watched as the Lord Governor freed his cock from its fabric confinements. He indulged her, it appeared, as he tended to his length with the same measured strokes that he used to caress her cheek with the other hand. His eyes never left Hermione's face as she could feel his gaze upon her features, even though her own never left his cock.
"The first step to proper oral conduct," the Lord Governor began, "is gauging an impression of how to approach one's vis-à-vis - one's object of desire, I might also say. Careful measure needs to be taken in how... extensive one's greeting needs to be, and how deeply felt."
The innuendo behind his words left no doubt as to what Lord Malfoy was referring to: his size was rather impressive in comparison to what Hermione had come to know this far, and to perform a 'proper oral greeting' would go hand in hand with extensive use of her mouth which would be filled to and beyond capacity. While not surpassing the professor's own manhood in girth, the Lord Governor was certainly better off in length, and Hermione would have her hands - or rather, her mouth - full if she was to deal with him, which she most certainly was. Deeply felt, indeed, she thought.
"Much of the... conversation will end up needing to be played by ear, Miss Granger," he continued. "Of course, from someone as inexperienced and uninformed as you, nobody will be expecting an opera, so to say, but that doesn't mean that any slacking will be excused. There is no way one can go wrong, however, with a proper kiss."
At that, the Lord Governor's hand that had up until now been caressing her cheek slid to the nape of her neck, his fingers entwining with her locks. Exerting surprisingly gentle, but nonetheless insistent pressure, he pulled her to his cock and made her place a chaste kiss - if any such kiss could be called chaste, she thought - to the tip. Hermione's eyes flicked up to meet his gaze, and she found that Lord Malfoy's eyes were darkened with lust and something more - something that was yet to be defined, but that did not exactly settle her nerves in any way.
"After that," the Lord Governor said, "what is most important is showing eagerness to please, and displaying an ability for quick learning."
Holding his gaze for a moment longer, Hermione opened her lips and sunk down onto his cock. As her mouth engulfed the top few inches of his length, Lord Malfoy allowed a pleasured sigh to escape from his own lips. His right hand remained in her hair, but applied no pressure as he elected to let Hermione take matters into her own hands, or mouth, as it was. He picked up his tumbler from where he had deposited it in order to open his slacks, and resumed sipping on the expensive alcohol as he enjoyed her ministrations.
Hermione set to applying much of what the professor had told her to try. Maintaining suction while bobbing her head up and down the Lord Governor's cock seemed to earn his approval, if his quiet sighs were anything to go by. Feeling the Potions Master's gaze upon her back, Hermione was well aware that her performance was as much for his benefit as it was for Lord Malfoy's. After all, Professor Snape's handling of her person would most probably be based upon her ability to service the Lord Governor to his full satisfaction.
Calling the elder Malfoy 'Lord Governor' inside her head helped Hermione maintain the polite facade that would be demanded of her when dealing with the man. It would not do to slip up, regardless of how much it pained her to use the title that Lord Malfoy wrongly styled himself with.
To distract herself from that depressing thought, Hermione returned her focus full force to the job at hand. Using her tongue liberally on the underside, both for licking the length of Lord Malfoy's manhood as well as for applying pressure at that spot just underneath the head that the professor had pointed out to her, Hermione drew another few moans from the man above her. The Lord Governor was truly lost to her charms, however, when she put her teeth to it. Grazing along his shaft ever so lightly, Hermione was rewarded with a drawn-out groan and a tightening of the hand in her hair.
After that, however, things went a little pear-shaped for her.
Severus hated Lucius with all of his insubstantial, blackened heart. Jealousy ate away at his already raw nerves as he was forced to watch the girl, his girl, pleasure the man who called himself his brother. Yes, Severus hated his friend with a vengeance, hated that he had to allow the girl to suck Lucius's cock, hated how aroused he himself became from watching their performance. He remembered all too well how the girl's lips felt, firm and yet infinitely soft, as they were wrapped around his cock. Her ministrations had her delicious little bum bopping up and down as she moved her head up and down Lucius's length, ever up and down, and Severus had to stifle a groan at the memory of how her bottom cheeks would wobble when he took her from behind as he had in the store room just a few days ago, or even more recently, when he had spanked her supple flesh while buried deep inside her tight sheath.
Yes, Severus hated how hard he got at those memories. The hate made his blood burn in his veins, and he was ready to strangle Lucius, pull the girl off of him, and fuck all trace of the entitled aristocrat from her body.
Holding on with all his might to every tiny bit of restraint he could muster, Severus was almost topped over the edge when Lucius raised his gaze to meet his. The pureblood's eyes shot down to Severus's groin for just a second before flicking back to his eyes. Lucius fucking smirked. Severus now cursed the fact that he had abandoned his robes earlier, electing to sit only in his coat, which opened enough to show off the substantial bulge that had risen in his slacks.
"Much as I appreciate your ardour, Miss Granger," Lucius drawled to the girl without dropping his gaze from Severus's, "I'm afraid we will need to accelerate these proceedings a little. You see, our dear Severus here is eager for your attention once more, as there is more of your... detention that he needs to see to. And if you've thought that what you've had to deal with so far was hard - well, let's just say that Severus might yet teach you a thing or two about hardness."
Severus saw the other man's grip on the girl's head tighten, his fingers now tense where they grabbed her by her hair, just before he encouraged - that is, forced - the girl to take more of his shaft into her mouth. The girl coughed and gagged in objection, the pitiable sounds she made both arousing Severus and voicing her doubts that Lucius would fit, but the wizard proceeded to prove her wrong by stuffing his whole length down her throat. Lucius's eyes took on a gleam that told Severus exactly how much he enjoyed the girl's distress, but luckily for her, that gleam also signalled the nearness of the end to her suffering.
A few more thrusts into her abused throat and the elder Malfoy was finished, spewing half his load into her mouth and half all over her face. Chuckling through the pleasant exhaustion that came with climax, Lucius took the girl's chin between two fingers and turned her face towards the fire. The girl's back was still towards Severus, but he could see that her face was covered in long streaks of the other man's ejaculate.
"I'm afraid you've got something on your face there, Miss Granger," Lucius chuckled. "Better clean up before Severus sees, so that you may go to him all pristine and prepared to service him, don't you think?"
As if Lucius didn't turn the girl so that his 'friend' could see the evidence of his abuse, Severus snorted, hiding his rage under a layer of desperate humour.
"Yes, my Lord," was all that could be heard before Lucius's fingers, having scooped a few of the trails he had left upon the girl's face, wandered into her mouth, cutting off any further response as he 'helped' the girl clean her face.
Hermione, merely glad to have survived the ordeal that the Lord Governor's cock deep down her throat had been, almost choked on the fingers that now sought their way into her mouth. Dutifully licking them clean of the now cold seed he had spurted onto her face, she swallowed down her disgust along with every trace of his essence. She readily complied when Lord Malfoy drew her head towards his cock once more, now softening after his violent release, to clean that off as well.
Afterwards, he pushed her against his thigh once more, resuming the disturbingly tender stroking of her cheek. The gesture, no matter how unsettling, still offered some strange sense of comfort to Hermione. Even though the young witch had recently been violated by the man now tending to her - both by being forced to service him in the first place, and by the manner in which he had then forced himself on her even further -, she could not pull away from his caresses, nor did she find herself wanting to. A war between opposing emotions was raging inside of her. She was freaked out by the touch of the known enemy, the Death Eater, her abuser; but at the same time, the tenderness he bestowed upon her was more than the professor was willing or even able to offer her, and it made her feel weirdly at peace to know that a man who she had been intimate with could show her this kind of physical kindness, both before and afterwards.
Of course, that thought sent a pang of guilt through her, piercing her guts. The professor had shown her kindness earlier, as well, gently healing the abused skin of her stomach. Many times he had healed her in the most tender of manners. A voice in the back of her mind insisted, however, that he had been the one to hurt her in the first place, in every single one of those instances, as well.
"Go now, Miss Granger," the Lord Governor's voice jerked her from the strange lull his touch had eased her into, despite the pain in her throat, "go tend to Severus now. He may dispute the fact that he needs you to do so, but I guarantee you, he is very eager for your services."
Rising from her seat between Lord Malfoy's legs, Hermione ignored the protest of her knees as she straightened her legs into a standing position once more. She moved, albeit a little jerkily from having knelt in the same position for so long, over to where the professor was seated opposite the Lord Governor. There she halted, hesitant, uncertain of how to proceed.
"Go right ahead," Lord Malfoy's voice encouraged her once more, "strip for him, and you will see that your professor's wand is all ready and posed for some more... education."
Hermione began, same as she had earlier that same evening, by unbuttoning her blouse from the bottom upwards. Allowing the fabric to fall from her shoulders, her bra soon followed in its wake. The small heap of clothes was joined by her skirt before Hermione stepped out of her shoes. The professor's eyes were fixed on hers, taking everything in, Hermione knew, but giving nothing away in turn.
Instinctively, Hermione felt that the Potions Master, who had been a fervent defender (or as fervent as he ever did defend anything in her presence) of her wearing her stockings during their carnal interactions, would not object to her removing them this time. He would not give away any of his desires, no matter how seemingly irrelevant, in front of Lord Malfoy, and Hermione would not do him the disservice of simply leaving her stockings on, thus taking the choice from him and tipping the Lord Governor off to the professor's proclivities.
Turning her back to him, although it made her face the blond Slytherin in the other armchair once more, she widened her stance a little before bending over and making to remove her stockings. Rolling them down her smooth, slender legs one by one, she swayed her hips ever so slightly, so that the professor might enjoy the view of the pinkness of her nether lips, dusted with chestnut curls, peeking out through the gap between her thighs.
Having stepped out of the second stocking, Hermione turned back to the professor once more. Uncertain of whether Professor Snape would wish for her to kneel as she had done for the Lord Governor and for the professor himself earlier that same evening, she found that the seating of his armchair was too low for her to tend to him while standing. She was not that flexible, and even if she was, she feared that losing her balance while her teeth were anywhere near the Potions Master's manhood would be considered very, very bad form, indeed.
Thus she knelt, shielding the professor's groin from the Lord Governor's view. Looking up to Professor Snape, she found his eyes fixed on hers as she hesitantly made to open his trousers. Feeling the slightest nudge against her mind, she almost broke out into a relieved smile, but reigned in the urge before her facial features could run away from her. Instead, she simply nudged back against his mind in return, and released his hardened manhood from its cloth prison.
True, Lord Malfoy's cock may be longer that the professor's, but Hermione found that she preferred the Potions Master's wand by far. She felt it had more character, in a way. Of course, that might have stemmed from the fact that she was more intimately familiar with the professor's tool and infinitely more inclined to be of service to him rather than be handed off to his Death Eater crony, but it was of no matter to her. The professor's cock was beautiful, and she was prepared to worship it to his full satisfaction.
Remembering one thing that the professor had advised her to do which she had not done for the Lord Governor, Hermione stifled a conspiratorial grin that threatened to escape the iron-clad control she had over her face. Grabbing Professor Snape's length, she gave the shaft a few proper strokes before bending it out of the way and lowering her face to his privates. Keeping her gaze locked on the professor's, who was thankfully reclined far enough back that she could maintain the angle, she saw the Potions Master's pupils dilate ever so slightly as she first licked his balls, then sucked them into her mouth one by one, giving them a thorough and very wet treatment that also served in giving her poor abused throat a break.
Suck my balls, Miss Granger, indeed, she mused.
Severus could not tell if he was breathing more loudly than he should, but the girl's grin around her mouth that was currently very full of his balls told him that perhaps he was. He did not dare glance at Lucius to see if he had noticed that little fact as well, but Severus dared assume that he hadn't. Yes, Lucius was as perceptive as the next Slytherin, but he had not accomplished any vigilance near Severus's level. After all, the patriarch of the richest House of the Sacred Twenty-Eight had not needed to live and operate amongst the opposing side in this ongoing war for half his life, so his subterfuge, even though it may come naturally to Lucius, was not as honed as Severus's. All in all, a little intense breathing would not give his pleasure away, his proclivities, his weakness for the girl.
Severus was not, of course, weak for the girl, exactly. It was simply that he had taught her well in how to please and pleasure him, and she had been an ardent student, quick to learn and eager to apply her newly gained knowledge and hone her unpractised skills. Her innocence and the generosity with which she offered that innocence to him had made her a precious treasure that he was loath to part with or share in. He had always been a possessive man, but the girl and her innocence were something he found himself more reluctant to share than anything he had ever owned before.
And Nimuë be blessed, the girl knew that and indulged him as much as she could. She had offered her inexperienced mouth to him, for him to break in, as it were, to teach her, to show her. She had asked him for hints, not Lucius, and had practiced them on his cock. And now she was nibbling and licking and sucking his balls with unknown abandon, having preserved that particular technique for his manhood alone, rather than show it off to Lucius when she'd been forced to service him. That fact alone made him want to blow his load all over the hand that was still tending to his cock with long, firm, measured strokes, so that she might clean her hand off by sucking his essence from her fingers, one by one.
Merlin, Severus had not known that he might become even more aroused by thinking of what the girl might do to him while the girl was already tending to him. There was nothing and no one that could stop him now from finishing this right this instant.
"Seeing as you have already partaken in the more pleasurable of services that Miss Granger so graciously offers," Lucius broke through his excitement, effectively stalling Severus's impending climax, "I will be so bold as to assume that you are willing to share those services with an old friend, wouldn't you agree?"
Jerked out of the reverie that the girl's clever tongue had sucked him into, Severus turned his gaze upon the Slytherin in the armchair opposite his. It did not fail his notice that Lucius had his own cock in hand, pleasuring himself to the image of the girl's mouth working on Severus's privates.
"You would not mind if I were to take my joy from those pleasures as well, now, would you?" Lucius continued in that entitled drawl of his that came with the arrogance of old money and a golden crib.
"I have no objections whatsoever," Severus forced himself to lie with an indulgent smile on his lips that were willing to bite Lucius's head off for suggesting such a preposterous notion, "as long as you will make use of this salve."
Digging into a pocket on the inner side of his sleeve, Severus withdrew a vial and held it up so that Lucius might see it. He did his best to ignore the fact that he had been prepared for the very scenario that he had promised the girl would never come to pass.
"This will drown every swimmer that braves it, making even your strong seed incapable of penetrating Miss Granger's womb. You would not want Miss Granger to... catch something, I'm sure," Severus sneered. "Just let me finish this real quick, and I'll have it sent over to you."
Clutching the vial of salve in his hand, he returned his gaze to the girl, still busy tending to his balls that were slowly turning blue.
"Give your best now, Miss Granger," he advised her. "Apply everything you've learnt so far."
Lucius preened under the notion that the girl's experience of choking on his cock would be what tipped Severus off the cliff, all due to his abuse of her, but the girl's tentative, but knowing smile up at Severus around her mouth full of balls told the younger wizard that she knew better. She knew that everything she'd learned on how to please the dour Potions Master had come from the man himself.
It did not take Severus long to climax. Lucius fortunately held his mouth, and Severus was able to shut his mind to the fact that the self-styled school governor was stroking his length to the sight of the girl's glorious blowjob. Noticing how his balls drew upwards, the girl was quick to capture the tip of Severus's cock into her mouth. Giving his shaft a few more eager jerks, she swallowed everything that Severus had to offer her. It wasn't much, considering that he'd blown his load three times already that evening, but blow his load once more he did.
Not allowing himself to revel in the girl's soothing licks to his manhood that was quickly relaxing from the raging hardness it had been mere seconds before, he bade her rise to her feet. Pressing the vial into her hands, he reluctantly, but firmly sent her back to Lucius.
"My Lord," the girl said, offering the vial to Lucius, but he was having none of that.
"With your clever young hands, Miss Granger," he stated, "I am certain that you are far better suited to coat the necessary parts than I am, wouldn't you say?"
"I would not know, my Lord," the girl attempted to talk her way out of the handjob, but there was no use.
"Well, I would know, so get right to it, girl," he almost lost his patience. His temper was soothed, most fortunately, by the girl's tentative handling of his cock. The salve lubricated the paths her hand travelled along his shaft, rubbing the head ever so thoroughly on every upwards movement in order to fully coat it in the salve. Lucius smirked at Severus as the girl was once more kneeling between his knees, her eyes focused on the task at hand - most literally, this time - as if to say, 'look what I've made the girl do'.
When he got bored, he shooed her hands away and demanded she stand up.
"Turn around to face Severus, Miss Granger," he commanded. Liberally coating himself in a second layer of the salve, obviously not wanting to go to any risk, no matter what he had said to the girl before, Lucius continued, "Your professor will want to see how proficient you have become in this particular discipline, am I not right, Severus?"
Without waiting for a reply, Lucius stoppered the vial, set it down next to his by now long empty tumbler, and drew the girl backwards by the hips. Supporting her descent, he placed the tip of his manhood against her centre. The girl threw Severus one last, half-desperate, half-accusing look, as if to remind him of his vow that Lucius would not have her. It mattered little what he had vowed, though, Severus knew, other than the fact that he had made a vow in the full knowledge that he might not be able to fulfil it.
One strong tug had her seated on Lucius's lap, his cock fully sheathed inside the tightness of her cunt.
Leading her hips in a rocking movement, Lucius quickly taught the girl to ride him in reverse. The girl, ever the swift student, took to the motion within a dozen repeats, and was encouraged to continue as she did. Lucius's left arm snaked around her upper body, his hand trailing its way upwards between the girl's breasts, to push two fingers into her mouth and have her suck them, all the while pinning her body to Lucius's, effectively blocking any escape she might have been pondering. The other wandered to her lower curls. Spreading her legs open to rest on the outside of his own thighs, Lucius went to tease the small bud of nerves that sat between her now opened nether lips. The glint of the heavy sigil ring so close to the girl's centre seemed to tease Severus mercilessly, mocking him for the fact that it was a Malfoy's hand that was bringing her pleasure, wanted or not, and that it was a Malfoy's cock that was driving into a cunt that had only ever been meant for Severus, that had only ever known Severus.
He may have accused her of many things, but deep down Severus Snape knew that Hermione Granger was not a girl to sleep around on anyone, nor was she a witch who broke her promises or went back on understandings that had been found. He was certain that, up until a few minutes ago, the only cock she had ever known had been his own. That knowledge had been sacred to him, even though he may have thrown desperate accusations at the girl in order to dispel his own desperate need of her, and to have that sacrilege destroyed now by Lucius Malfoy, of all people, was an abhorrence to him.
There was nothing to be done, though. His cover needed to be protected at all costs, he knew, and the girl agreed. Her reluctance alone to be handed over to Lucius was precious to him, and her resignation to do so anyway, for him, for Severus, soothed his own ache in parting with her, sharing the treasure that was her innocence, that was her enthusiasm, that was her. It was all he had been able to do to brew the salve that would kill off Lucius's seed, leaving her receptive to his own seed alone.
"Has Severus ever instructed you in how to solve a problem that can't be solved the usual way, Miss Granger?" Lucius's question drew the Potions Master out of his musings. "Have you ever been taught how to properly use a backdoor?"
The girl's panic was clearly visible in her eyes, although the rest of her face betrayed nothing. A flick of Severus's fingers took care of that fear for her. In the relaxation of the miniscule laugh lines around her eyes Severus could see that she had felt the skin around her puckered entrance become taut. The girl felt safe in the knowledge that he had cast the earlier agreed upon Strengthening charm on her skin. She was safe from any power that Lucius might search to extract from her body, but there was nothing Severus could do to save her from the violence he might seek to exact upon her body in turn.
"I -," the girl began after Lucius had withdrawn his fingers from her mouth, hesitated as if concentrating on the constant movement of her hips upon Lucius's lap, then began anew, "I have not received any such instructions as of yet, my Lord."
"Well," Lucius drawled, obviously pleased with her reply, "it would be a pity for a mind as bright as yours, Miss Granger, not to have exhausted all the possible... approaches to a problem - wouldn't you agree?"
"And to think that Miss Granger is such a sucker for instructions," Severus supplied, knowing that, as there was no way out of what Lucius was about to do to the girl, he might as well outwardly pretend to support it.
"Would you like for me to educate you on that particular technique, Miss Granger?" Lucius offered.
"My Lord," the girl replied, neither accepting nor declining that 'offer', as neither response was necessary, and all three people in the room knew it.
"Perhaps," Severus suggested, "this might not be the best position for Miss Granger's first lesson?"
Lucius seemed to perk up at that, even more so than he had been before, if such a thing was even possible.
"You are only too correct in that assumption, Severus," he agreed. "As Miss Granger's instructor, I will of course need to see the exact moment that... understanding begins to dawn in her eyes, to know when my lesson has properly... sunk in."
Sweet Circe, Severus thought, will there be a time when this particular pun will stop being amusing to the man?
"Of course, now that Miss Granger is just getting the hang of this technique right here, there would be no sense in abandoning the lesson halfway through," Lucius said, and focused his attention on the girl's clit.
It was not enough, though, Severus could see. The girl was beyond reluctant to let loose in Lucius's presence and would not be climaxing anytime soon if he did not help things along a little.
Nudging the girl's mind with his own once more, her eyes flicked to his, and he fixed them under his stare, demanding her full attention. Once certain that he had it, he clearly intoned, "Come, Miss Granger."
And come, she did.
The professor's command sent Hermione back to Christmas, back to their encounter on the small table in the room next to hers, where she'd sat, her legs spread wide and toes curling into the professor's thighs as his words pushed her over the edge that her fingers were too inexperienced to bring her to. And while she rode the wave of pleasure the Potions Master had once more sent rolling over her, she could almost imagine that the hardness seated deep inside her centre was his, and that the fingers digging into her soft flesh belonged to him, and that they were alone in the room, just the two of them.
But then a hand reached for hers, and she had come to know those hands so well that she knew instantly, even half-immersed in her post-orgasmic haze as she still was, that they were the professor's. She allowed them to pull her to a standing position, only flinching ever so slightly as the manhood that she had been riding, still rock-hard, slipped from her folds. Grateful as Hermione was that at least the Lord Governor had not sullied her core with his ejaculate, she knew that her night was far from over, and that Lord Malfoy was far from done with her and his use of her body.
"Where do you want her?" the professor asked without preamble.
"Judging from last week," the Lord Governor's unique drawl answered, "your desk appears to be the perfect height for this sort of undertaking."
"The desk it is then," Professor Snape agreed. "Miss Granger?"
In the full knowledge that his unspoken request to accompany him to the desk was a mere formality, to project the politeness that the Lord Governor insisted upon so ardently, if only to humiliate her and the fact that she had absolutely no choice in what happened to her in these quarters, Hermione followed the slight tug on her hand to walk over to the desk that she herself had been perched on only hours earlier, when she'd languidly ridden the professor, leaning back against the smooth wood as his skilled hands worked their magic upon the shredded skin of her stomach, while some other appendage of his worked its magic a little lower, but no less effectively.
Of course, Hermione knew that there was always a choice. Her choice in this case, however, was between compliance, and risking to blow the professor's cover. It was between mellowly following whatever was demanded of her, and exposing herself to being physically or magically forced to follow them. And so she chose to do what she could to protect the Potions Master, and to protect herself from more harm than necessary.
"The same position as last week will do," the Lord Governor's words drew Hermione from her musings.
She accepted the professor's help in climbing upon the desk, even though it was not needed. That is, the help in itself was not needed; after all, the desk was not so high that Hermione would not have managed to climb it all by herself. What was needed, though, was the trusted touch of the man who had become so much more to her than simply the Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had become her mentor, her protector, her private tutor, her first.
Her first.
His touch had awakened so much inside her, more than even Angelina had managed to coax from her body, and to feel his calloused, familiar hands upon her hips as they hoisted her up to sit on the desk as if she weighed nothing, gave her a sense of comfort that lent her the strength needed to fight her very acute desire to bolt from the room, never to be seen again - at least not by the Lord Governor.
The man in question stepped in to take the position the professor had just vacated. Lord Malfoy hoisted her legs up, making Hermione fall backwards until her upper body lay down on the desk and she was forced to look up to the man who would rob her body of its last bit of innocence. Folding her legs so that her knees pressed against the outsides of her boobs, the Lord Governor spread her thighs and tilted her hips upwards for easy access. Some sort of spell made her inside writhe as they cleaned themselves, preparing for the blond wizard's entrance. Hermione felt the rigidity of his manhood bouncing against her lower cheeks as her bum was raised by her folded position to come into perfect alignment with the pureblood's cock.
Just as Lord Malfoy was about to push into her, the professor's voice cut through the tense silence, heavy with their respective panting - the Lord Governor's in excited, gleeful anticipation; Hermione's in helpless desperation to keep her cool.
"Would you like to apply more salve, Lucius?" the Potions Master offered. "After all, there is no use in taking the risk of leakage. One never knows which close-by orifices any leaked liquids might be entering."
Hermione could have kissed the man, if she thought that he would ever allow such a thing, ever. She would be eternally grateful for the professor's offer, and was ready to cry in relief when the Lord Governor accepted. She was well aware that a liberal coat of salve upon Lord Malfoy's manhood would slicken him up, thus easing his entrance into her body that was even tighter than usual with the Strengthening charm the professor had thankfully applied.
"Look at me," the commanding, icy voice penetrated Hermione's happiness in these dire circumstances. "Look at me, Miss Granger. I want to see that my lesson properly registers in that pretty little head of yours, lest your impenetrable helmet of hair impediment my teachings and I have to repeat myself. You would not want that - would you, Miss Granger?"
Hermione shook her head 'no', but when she raised her eyes, they would not fix upon the Lord Governor's glacial gaze. Instead they found and held the calm, still blackness of the professor's stare, and found comfort in it. The Potions Master was standing just behind the Lord Governor, as if unwilling to miss anything that was about to happen, even if it was to protect her as much as he could, should the need arise, and not to revel in the pain and humiliation Lord Malfoy was intent on bestowing upon her. As it was, the Lord Governor did not even notice that she did not look at him, exactly. The angle allowed Hermione to hold Professor Snape's gaze while giving the impression of looking at the man poised to penetrate her.
And penetrate her, he did.
"Watch this, Severus," Lucius said, and pushed.
The girl's face allowed for a small pang of discomfort, even though Severus knew that things must be even more painful to her than just that. Lucius, it appeared, was not satisfied with what the girl's expression showed, and pushed harder. Clever as she was, loath though Severus was to admit it, the girl caught on quickly, and her face distorted into a pained grimace.
Looking at her face and watching the emotions play upon it was strangely difficult for Severus. He had spent years standing by as strangers - mostly innocents - were being taunted, tortured, raped, killed in his presence, and he had schooled both his face as well as his soul to remain largely unfazed, departmentalizing what he saw, and reminding himself of the importance of - well, not of himself, exactly, but of his position, which was unique, in this war.
But now...
Either it was the fact that he had been out of training for more than a decade while the Dark Lord was banished into all but inexistence in the forests of Albania, or -
But the idea in and of itself was preposterous. He would not be brought to his knees, he would not forget his training, he would not lose the mask he had spent so much to perfect, just for some girl he was fucking.
Still, it was easier to watch the pained expression on the girl's face than the point where Lucius's body was vanishing into hers, claiming something that he had no right to claim, something that belonged to Severus. He wanted to curse himself for not taking precautions against this happening. Why had he waited for the girl to bring up the issue of alternative ways of copulating? Severus should have known that Lucius would exploit every last bit of the girl's body, so why had he, Severus, not made certain to have been there first? Because now he was forced to watch, or give the impression of watching, as Lucius pressed his way into the tightness that was the girl's virgin ass.
"Look at that face," Lucius panted when he was fully seated inside the girl. "Don't you just want to pound into that?"
It was beyond easy for Severus to hide the surprise at Lucius's crudeness, but a surprise it was nonetheless. The pureblood aristocrat was usually the picture of refinement. To hear him speaking so crassly now was highly unusual. Even upon those rare occasions at which he participated in the rape orgies that were the Dark Lord's revels, he held an air of aloofness about him that few could mirror.
Looking down at the girl, Severus could somewhat understand Lucius's loss of composure. Her mouth was opened in a wide 'O' that was more than inviting to a man standing above her naked form. Her breasts bouncing with every thrust that Lucius delivered into her body, combined with how taut her skin was stretched around her penetrator's cock - and yes, now Severus forced himself to spare at least a glance at the point where the two of them were merged together - painted a picture that Severus very much wanted to 'pound into', as his friend had so eloquently suggested.
But it was not for him to do the pounding. That was Lucius's privilege for once. For now. And pound, he did. Lucius worked the girl's body to the fullest degree, bouncing her about the desk until Severus feared that she would be black and blue.
The girl took it all, and admirably well composed at that. Her shields remained strong and her face continued to show the same amount of discomfort, even though Severus knew that she must feel more pain than she allowed her features to portray. In that moment, the girl's simple kind of prettiness turned into beauty in Severus's eyes, her bravery, determination, and loyalty adding to her outward attractiveness until she was the most exquisite creature Severus had ever laid eyes upon.
To talk about loyalty while the girl who had promised to be his was bounced about by a rigid cock stuck in her behind was a first for Severus, and for a moment he was surprised that there were still firsts for him to experience. But the moment passed in the blink of an eye as he remembered that the girl was nothing if not unusual, and that this might not be the last of firsts he might experience with her. Her loyalty existed not in spite of her connection with Lucius Malfoy, but because of it, and to know that he had been the one, albeit unwillingly, to force her into her current situation, and that he was the reason why she endured it as admiringly as she did, made it all the more precious to him.
"Merlin, Severus," Lucius exclaimed, panting from his exertions yet never ceasing in his ardour, "this is too tight. Too fucking tight. Fuck, I have to possess this, possess her, possess -"
He fell silent for a few precious seconds, but he was not finished, it seemed.
"Oh, Miss Granger won't let anyone come anywhere near her arse anytime soon after I'm done with her, now, will you, Miss Granger?" he continued, now erratic in his thrusting.
The girl did not reply, nor could she, it appeared; too busy was she with holding onto the table in order to reduce the bouncing she was being subjected to. Circe, Severus thought, if Lucius kept at it like this, he would have to check the girl for a concussion later.
"But if you're always this tight, Miss Granger," Lucius panted in what was probably supposed to be a conspiratorial manner, "I don't think I will ever truly be done with you."
And at that, Lucius appeared to be finished, fortunately. Pulling out of the girl's tight bottom, he aimed in the general direction of her upper body. Considering that he had come once before this night, all over the girl's face, the amount of ejaculate Lucius was spewing now was impressive. The first spurts went the furthest, hitting the girl's chin and dribbling down to pool in the hollow of her throat. The rest covered her breasts and stomach, dripping into her navel, and some even came to land in the surprisingly smooth curls between her legs.
Lucius, still milking the last of his seed from his now softening cock, turned his head to address Severus.
"Thank you for tonight's entertainment," he said. "The Odgen's was particularly fine, especially when enjoyed in combination with the other pleasures you provided so generously."
Severus inclined his head in reply, not trusting himself to speak. It seemed to be enough. Or maybe too much.
"In fact, this evening was so pleasant," the pureblood aristocrat continued, "that I might need to come back for a repeat performance."
"Anytime," Severus smoothly offered, forcing down his homicidal inclinations for now. "As long as the Odgen's of this quality keeps flowing, you will always be welcome."
Lucius was so bold as to wink at hearing that remark. As if the expensive liquor was worth buying the girl's attentions for a few hours - not that her attention would ever truly be Lucius's, but the wizard did not need to know that.
"Just let me know in advance when your presence at Hogwarts might be expected," Severus added, "so that I may make the necessary arrangements."
"Of course," Lucius replied, imperiously holding out his hand to be kissed.
The girl hastily scrambled from her position on the table to come kneeling on the floor in front of Lucius once more. Pressing her lips against the heavy sigil ring, her chin accidentally bumped against the fingers of the proffered hand - a chin that was still dripping with the wizard's ejaculate. Wasting no time, Lucius bunched her hair in his other hand, making the girl wince in pain as the strands were pulled taut and strained against their hold on her skull, and pushed his contaminated fingers into the girl's mouth. After she had dutifully sucked and licked the digits clean, Lucius wiped them dry on the fistful of hair he was still holding, and continued to use the same fistful of hair to clean his cock, leaving small traces of white in the girl's riotous, chestnut curls. Tucking himself away and straightening his robes, Lucius bid Severus a curt goodbye and was gone in a swirl of green flames.
Hermione was knackered, to say the least. So knackered was she that she did not even attempt to pick herself up from her kneeling position on the hard, cold stone floor next to the professor's desk. Luckily, she did not need to, as that task was taken from her.
Feeling herself being lifted in strong arms, her first thought went to the Potions Master's black robes that would certainly be spoilt, considering that the Lord Governor had done his utmost to coat Hermione in his seed as broadly as possible.
"Sir," she began to protest weakly, "you don't need to - please don't - I don't want to spill -"
But Professor Snape was having none of that.
"Shut up, Miss Granger," he commanded, not unkindly. "Let's get you cleaned up first."
Another coldness hit her feet when the professor next helped her stand, but it was not rough and uneven as the stone floor of his dungeon quarters, but smooth. Porcelain, Hermione dully noted. He had put her in his bathtub.
Next, a stream of pleasantly warm water hit her as the professor doused her off. When he appeared satisfied that the worst of the Lord Governor's traces had been cleaned from her body, he set to fill the bath, helping Hermione lie down and drench herself in the heavenly liquid as he poured her favoured amount of bubble bath - exceedingly too much, that is - into the tub.
"Few would have braved even attempting what you have accomplished today, Miss Granger," the professor spoke, so softly that Hermione could not be quite certain that she had not simply imagined it. "Even fewer would have fared as well as you did. You can be proud of yourself."
He had not said that he himself was proud of her, but he did not need to. Hermione preened under his high praise, and knew to hear what he could not bring himself to say. To her, his words were enough, meaning lent to them by what he left unspoken.
Through the haze of exhaustion that now robbed her body of all energy, Hermione thought to notice that the professor was taking off his coat and folding back the sleeve of his right arm to above the elbow. The gesture was so familiar to her from the horrid week not too long ago when her period had wracked her body with a formerly unknown intensity, that she was not surprised when the professor's skilled fingers dipped into the water and in between her thighs. Wincing slightly as he hit her sore folds, she sighed in relief when whispered Healing charms soothed the pains in her orifices.
Hermione soon gave herself over to the pleasures the Potions Master elicited in her body, mentally watching the ripples he caused turn into waves until they pulled her under and she drowned for just a moment, dying the glorious little death for him, just once more. She was partly surprised that her body could take another orgasm after the night she had had, but part of her had always known that her reactions were so primed for the professor's actions that she could not deny him anymore. There lay beauty in that knowledge, and Hermione felt comforted by it.
"Good girl," the professor may or may not have muttered. Hermione could not be sure. Her world had turned to a million shades of grey, interspersed with the occasional bright point of utter blackness when her eyes happened upon the Potions Master's. She wondered why she had thought earlier that the professor was incapable of showing tenderness when she was now being proven so utterly wrong. It was true, Professor Snape was rarely so outwardly affectionate as the Lord Governor had been earlier when he'd stroked her cheek. But that was simply because the professor's tenderness was of a different kind, not because it was any less, not in any way diminished, not in any way unworthy of mention. If anything, it was even more intense than what the Lord Governor had to offer, because of the closeness Hermione shared with the professor through their understanding and their relationship that came of it. Even though they were not a couple in any sense of the word, it could not be denied that Hermione belonged to him and that, in some ways, the professor belonged to her. They were one, and this rare display of his tenderness proved it once more.
"Sir?" Hermione called for his attention. "Why have you not used the salve yourself when... interacting with me?"
A short pause followed, devoid of the usual heaviness that silences in their conversations brought with them.
"I have found it not conducive to my aims," eventually came the reply.
"How so?" Hermione queried.
This time, the answer was quicker to follow.
"The nature of our positions and their relation to one another requires a certain availability that may not always be able to afford the patience needed for brewing and applying such a method of contraception," the professor explained. "Considering that there has yet to arise the need for artificial means of lubrication in our... interactions, as you call them, Miss Granger, I fail to see the necessity for using the salve that I offered the Lord Governor."
Hermione's question had not been fully answered, and the professor knew it, for he continued a few short moments later.
"There is a potion," he said. "It is rather expensive, especially in comparison to the more common version that is offered to witches. That is why I would not offer that to Lord Malfoy. It would not do to waste the resources required for said potion on the Lord Governor, nor would it do to thus imply to him that constant availability of such... services as he availed himself of tonight. On top of all that, having Lord Malfoy depend on the salve being provided will ensure that I need to be present for him to indulge in his dirty pleasures."
Hermione knew that the Potions Master was not calling her dirty, but was rather degrading the Lord Governor's disgusting joy in abusing a young student of what he claimed to be inferior descent.
Together they listened to the silence for a while. Hermione revelled in the velvety warmth surrounding her tired body, and the professor indulged her, seated on the floor next to the tub.
"Help me, sir," Hermione asked after a while.
"With what, Miss Granger?" the professor inquired.
"Help me," she repeated, "end the night on a good note."
The Potions Master appeared surprised, and Hermione supposed that he probably thought that this was what he had just attempted to do. She stood from the bath and stepped out of the tub, taking him by the hand. The simple act of entwining her fingers with his somehow seemed more intimate to her than anything they had shared prior to this moment, and if she wasn't quite mistaken, the professor felt the same way. A wave of warmth hit Hermione when a Drying spell hit her body, and she turned to smile at the Potions Master, never faltering in her steps as she led him back to his desk.
Hermione let his hand drop when she pushed herself onto the surface of the desk once more, then grabbed the professor by the waist band and drew him nearer. Her eyes were on his while she freed his cock once more, and she noted the surprise that darted across his expression before he reigned in his features.
"Miss Granger," he protested, "what are you -"
"Please," she interrupted him, "please, sir, I need you, I need this, I need to -"
And Hermione saw that the professor understood. He understood that the memory of Lucius Malfoy painfully possessing her body, robbing her poor behind of the innocence it had not been prepared to shed, much less for this particular wizard, could not be allowed to be the most recent one she had of his desk, and he complied. Gently pushing her backwards, the professor helped her lie as she had the previous week, and entered her. If either of them were surprised that he could still become hard after the exhaustions of this long, long night, neither mentioned it, as their surprise vanished underneath the wonder that was the professor's tender descent into her body.
They started out as gentle as could be, and if either of them had felt anything beyond their close mentor-ward-relationship for the other, it might have been called love making. As it was, none of that existed between them, no romantic notion of a war-torn couple in the middle of a conflict that divided the whole of Wizarding Britain in two. What shone through, however, was the professor's pride of his student, and a reluctant affection that he allowed himself for once. The emotion was almost tangible, but this, too, soon vanished as their coupling went from tender to desperate, as their movements went from rocking to rutting, and Hermione fell apart around the Potions Master's cock one last time this night. The professor had no more essence to spend, but he too gained immense enjoyment from their connection, and was left beyond satisfied, even though his body was incapable of any more orgasms for the moment.
When she had calmed down enough to hear her own breathing through the loud pounding of her heart once more, Hermione slipped from the desk and came to her knees in front of the professor. She longed to tend to him, to show him that she cared, but was held back. Confused, she looked up at him.
"You will go back to your quarters now, Miss Granger," the professor stated as his hand came to cup her cheek, taking the sting of rejection out of his dismissal, "and I will rest assured that your behind will bear the imprint of my hands for a few more hours. I told you, there is satisfaction to be gained from the knowledge that another bears your trace."
And Hermione understood once again what the professor would not say out loud. The Potions Master would be going to bed with her essence upon his manhood, and she experienced the same kind of contentment he seemed to gain, simply knowing that her scent would linger upon him for a few more hours.
"Good night, sir," she bid him after she had dressed. Despite all that she had gone through this night, her heart was light with the knowledge she had just gained. The professor wanted to smell of her.
"Good night, Miss Granger," he replied, and then she was gone from his quarters.
Coming up: Chapter Forty, wherein a crown is received.