Gods...gods.

Hermione stared up, her lips parted in shock, at the dark wizard above her. In her.

She panted, her heart a drum, the push of him into her body so strange and full, and Merlin help her, so right. He was naked against her, acres of hot and delicious skin that she wanted to clutch to her...but her hands fisted in the bedsheets. An exchange. Nothing more. And it was breaking her heart…

"Breathe slow. That's it." The endless black of his gaze held her. "No rush, lovely girl. I'm here for your pleasure."

Her eyelids fluttered at his words. He couldn't say such things… And his smooth voice was a low and quiet rumble that chased through her flesh, catching the sparks of recent orgasms. Plural. Merlin, he'd wrung them from her with such mortifying ease.

Severus swept back sweaty curls from her cheek and temple, his gaze filled with addictive black fire. She mewled at the touch, and her need betrayed her, as she pushed into his hand seeking more oh him. "Sweet witch." And a quirk of a smile tugged at lips she had, well, she'd tried to devour.

Hermione had to pull away from her impossible want. "How...many…?" Her words dried. She couldn't ask it. How many had he taken like this. Her heart squeezed in raw pain. Merlin, did she know any them?

"A gentleman never tells."

She huffed a laugh and her breathe caught at the shift, the pulse of pain and pleasure that suffused her body. Severus' hips rolled against her and the swift joy of it swept a fierce pulse of golden magic through her veins, her bones and...fuck, her hair, her sweat-tangled hair writhed against the pillows. Her magic. Her magic was flaring, growing, fucking hot in its intensity...

"You...you are no gentleman."

"You're quite right." His smirk deepened. "I am decidedly not."

He eased her hands free of the sheets, pulled them above her head and threaded his long fingers through hers, pinning her. He loomed over her, the change in angle doing, fuck, fuck...wonderful things. Her body shook, twitched, her calves wrapping around the strength of his taut thighs. Her toes curled. She fought to breathe, to keep her eyes open to stare into the black depths of his eyes, to hold him in this moment. Wanting him. Wanting all of this fucking wonderfully fearsome wizard.

He dipped his head to brush his perfect lips against her ear. Hot breath pricked her and his voice was a wicked magic all of its own. "No, I am the bastard Severus Snape. A fully dark wizard buried balls deep in the most delicious of little witches."

He drew back and his grin was shark-bright.

Merlin, he was beautiful…

"Shall I fuck you now, Hermione?"

A dark heat thickened in her flesh at his unexpectedly raw words, the flare of her magic twisting and fierce in her straining body. "Yes, Severus. Gods, yes." She arched into him, taking him deeper and he hissed. And fuck, it was fantastic to drag that need from him.

"Merlin, girl…"

"Not a girl."

"No, gods, no you're not." Eyes filled with black fire speared her, Severus' body taut and hard, the strain of his desire there in the harsh lines of his so-wanted face. "Ready, witch?"

"Just fuck me."

Severus growled, actually growled, and thrust his hips, driving his cock into her willing flesh.

Hermione cried out, arching into him, her fingers crushing his as the riot of pleasure and magic in her flesh surged. More. She needed more. She hooked her leg over his perfect backside and urged him on. "Again. Harder."

"Demanding little shrew."

"Abso-fucking-lutely."

Severus' grin was feral as he stroked forward...and did something —a twist, a turn, Merlin, something— that sparked fire through every inch of her, forcing a run of surprised curses to break free.

"Such language, Miss Granger."

Light danced at the edge of her vision, the sudden and swift promise of an orgasm tight in her flesh. Fuck, that was wrong, so wrong...and naughty...and just delicious, to want him to call her that as he fucked her.

His mouth found her ear, the length of his body hot and wanted against her straining flesh, fucking her, hard and so very, very thoroughly… "Miss Granger..."

Hermione mewled, clutching at him, the forbidden pleasures chasing through her belly, driving her to meet his fierce thrusts. His own tightened breaths were a form of a bliss. To know that she had that effect, pushing such pleasure through him. And the wild thrum of her magic wrapped around her, threaded over every nerve, charging her joy, promising, promising—

"Come for me, my wicked girl."

Hermione's whole world exploded in screaming hot light as her orgasm smashed over her. Somewhere, somewhere in that maelstrom, Severus' roar of pleasure chased after her own. And she was kissing him, lost to the perfection of his mouth as she came down from the wild rush of shared joy.

A blurry moment later and Severus was on his back with her tucked to his side. Another form of bliss. Utter bliss…

Hermione curled around him. Sated. And delightfully achy. Yes, he got the full-on Hermione's Snare, her palm over the slowing drum of his heart, her leg wrapped between his, the sweaty, naked length of her pressed from his chest to his hip. Her fingers teased through his damp chest hair and she closed her eyes.

She couldn't think about the future, about crawling out of his bed, dressing and disapparating back to the grim dank darkness of Grimmauld Place. This time. She had to store every moment. His heat. His scent, a lingering sandalwood and something else, something that still pricked at her memory. Oh, and the new and adored scent of sex with Severus Snape. The lift and fall of his chest under her palm. His strong arm wrapped around her, over her waist with his long fingers splayed over her belly. The brush of his cool hair against her temple.

"Your magic is changed, Hermione."

His voice rumbled under her ear and she committed that to her memory too, her chest burning with the need to remember everything about him.

She willed herself to look up, to place her chin on firm muscle and meet his gaze with a smirk of her own. Presenting the idea of the fierce new witch she was now supposed to be. Her magic had changed. Grown. Evolved. The smooth burn of it was a golden fire in her veins. A deep pulse of thick magic. "How was it for you? After…" She held back a wince, not wanting his first —or other lovers— shoved in her face. But it was a question a non-clingy witch would ask. So she had. However, much it pained her.

Severus teased the tangle of her hair from her face and tendrils threaded through his long fingers, wrapping around and chasing down to his wrist. "Your hair is...sentient."

Hermione's face grew hot. Her hair obviously wanted him as much as the rest of her. She willed it free. "I am finally the full Medusa."

"A fearsome witch, empowered by the goddess to petrify men?" He smirked at her. "Use your new powers...wisely."

Laughter broke from her. Merlin, she liked this true version of Severus Snape. "I promise."

"But your magic. You'll notice it bloom. Spells and potions, your execution and understanding of them and all aspects of magic itself will suddenly become...more clear. Sharper. Obvious." His gaze was soft and it wrapped a painful warmth around her heart. "You'll have a number of 'Merlin, of course!' epiphanies. Quite a few, in fact."

"And your magic now?"

Gods, she wanted to know she'd left her mark on this wizard. Fuck… That was… She closed her eyes and pressed her face to his chest again, the strong and even thud of his heart under her ear. She willed it to soothe her, even as guilt tugged at her for that thought. The grey stain of his last mark was still on the arm wrapped around her waist.

"There's a brilliance to it." Severus' voice was soft, reflective and there was a hint of awe. "I was —am— a very powerful wizard—"

"So modest…"

His laughter twitched a smile and she pressed herself tighter to him. "I am not modest. But your shine to my magic, Hermione. It's...wondrous." He tilted her face up to him again. "Beautiful." He pressed the softest of kisses to her forehead and curling tendrils of her hair chased over his hand to cling to his wrist. "Your Medusa-hair wants me again." He lifted an eyebrow, his eyes bright with...with desire. "Do you, Hermione?"

"Gods, yes."

And her mouth took his.

The summer afternoon slipped away. A golden moment of pleasure, a pleasure she thought she'd never have.

Severus Snape had been perfect.

But the exchange was over. Finished. Done.

It was time to go.

And her heart, her heart...cracked.