The Desire

The afternoon had slipped away quickly and soon it was time for the conference dinner. She wore one of her new dresses, one of Ginny's selections, a dark green one with a halter V-neck and a high waist accentuated by the golden ribbon that spilled down the front of the dress. It was floor length as appropriate in the Wizarding world but brazenly backless, showing her shoulder blades and spine all the way down to the waist, necessitating some strategic charms in place of a bra. She rather liked the effect, especially coupled with her hair pinned half up which freed her face but allowed the curls to cascade down her back. He met her in the lobby and by the way his eyes widened at the sight of her, he approved. She smiled at him and couldn't resist twirling around to show him the back as well. His nostrils were flaring when she turned back to him.

"Lovely, Miss Granger," he purred and took her hand, ghosting a kiss over her knuckles.

Something fluttered deep in her stomach. "It's Hermione, remember? You look rather dashing tonight yourself, Master Snape."

He wore black, of course, but there was something about the fabric of his outer robes that made them appear to swirl around him even when he was still, as if he was cloaked in smoke. Underneath them he wore a tight frock coat with his Master's insignia on the lapel. The fabric shimmered like a scarab carapace, in deep green and black hues depending on the light.

He smirked at her and offered her his arm. Together they made their way to the ballroom which was now set up for dinner. Most of the attendees were already busy mingling in the foyer, drinking champagne while waiting for the doors to open. There was a seating plan posted near the door. Large round tables were scattered over the floor with a podium for the organising committee. She scanned the plan for their names. Severus was seated quite close to the podium, and she almost missed the subtle flick of his wand which swapped the name of the witch he was seated next to with hers.

"Fancy that," he said blandly. "It seems I do get to escort you to the table. How fortuitous."

She giggled and agreed that it was quite fortunate indeed.

The dinner was excellent, of course, as was the company. They were seated with a renowned German Charms Master, one Curse Breaker from Bulgaria, a member of the organising committee and another Potions Master from France, and the discussion around the table was lively and interesting. Hermione hadn't felt as inspired in years. Severus was attentive, witty and seemed completely at ease in the formal setting. He made sure that she was included in the discussion, asked what she thought of the food, his dark eyes resting on her when she talked.

Finally dinner ended and the chairman called for everyone to leave the room while the tables were cleared away. She took his proffered arm, feeling oddly flustered at his proximity. A sudden need for a bathroom break made itself known and she was grateful for the distraction.

"Pardon me, I'll be right back." The wine she'd had already was making itself known in the heavy feeling in her legs and bladder.

He nodded, his eyes following her as she walked off in search of a bathroom. The three Norwegian witches she met earlier were already there, freshing up their makeup in front of the mirror.

Marit saw her first, and looked up with a smile. "Hi Hermione, how are you? Did you go to Master Snape's lecture?"

Hermione smiled in return. "Hi, yes I did, he's my old Potions professor you know. Didn't I mention that already?"

"Yes, Marit, didn't you see her sitting with him at dinner?" Sofia asked her friend, waving a powder brush around.

"Oh, yes you're right," Marit said as she checked her lipstick. "He's quite dashing, isn't he? I'd have been horribly distracted if I had to sit in his class. Those hands… and that voice…"

Hermione shook her head. "He made sure to keep everyone away at school. But you're right, he looks rather nice today, doesn't he?"

She hadn't really questioned why he had asked for her company. During the days of the conference, and the dinner, it had become obvious that he was seen rather differently in this setting compared to at Hogwarts or in Britain. Here, there was no scorn or disdain for his looks, his personality or his background. He could have had the company of any attending witch, she was sure of it. Why had he chosen her?

"He's flirting with you, isn't he?" Lise-Mari asked, looking directly at Hermione. "I saw the way he looks at you. Like he wants to either eat you or steal you away to his tower."

Hermione blushed. "No… of course not, he was my professor!"

"Uh-huh," Lise-Mari said with one of those knowing smirks that Ginny also had perfected. "And he's glaring at all the other males in the room that happen to look at you just because he corrected your essays back then."

Hermione excused herself to the bathroom and when she was done, her three new friends had already left.

There was dancing, too, once the room was cleared and the band had finished tuning their instruments. The levitating chandeliers lighting the room were slowly rotating, creating an effect not far from a Muggle disco ball as light hit the prisms from different angles.

"Would you honour me with a dance, Hermione?" he asked when the band started playing a waltz.

She flushed red as she placed her hand in his and stepped up to face him. His hand grasped her waist while her hand rested on his firm shoulder. He smelled nice, of something vaguely herbal, sandalwood and parchment. He danced well, leading her expertly around the room while holding her perhaps a little closer than necessary. Not that she minded, he was miles better than either Ron or Harry when it came to dancing, which of course wasn't too difficult.

"I've never seen you dance, Professor." She looked up at him, their height difference all the more pronounced with proximity.

He smirked at her. "You haven't had much reason to, I presume. Being friends with the Malfoys meant dancing was mandatory, and Narcissa would never allow me to get away with dancing badly. However, I've only danced at Hogwarts under duress."

The hours whizzed by without her noticing. She danced with a few other wizards who gathered the courage to ask, but noticed that Lise-Mari hadn't been far off the mark: his trademark glare kept most of the others away, and he only danced with two others, both notably older witches whom he said he knew from his own Apprenticeship and other work. Slowly the crowd thinned as people started leaving, and the two of them found a bar table in a secluded corner for a bit of a rest. He was slowly sipping a local herbal liquor while she was nursing a tonic water drink.

The whole experience had been wonderful, so far, and there was still one full day remaining of the conference plus another morning. Meeting all these new people, listening to all of the interesting lectures … and connecting with one Severus Snape. She could never have guessed that he'd be so interesting to talk to, or that he'd make her insides go all fluttery.

"Would you kiss me?" she blurted out. Shit, she hadn't meant to say that out loud.

His eyes widened. "Witch, you shouldn't start something you have no intention of finishing," he murmured but still he slowly moved closer to her. The closeness made her shiver.

"Who's to say I don't?" she retorted, looking straight into his dark eyes.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Wouldn't the youngest Mr Weasley rather disagree with that statement? I think Minerva mentioned something about you being associated with him, not that I understand why you'd settle for someone like him in the first place."

She shook her head and glowered at her glass. "He disagrees with me being here in the first place. To be honest, I couldn't care less about him right now. I don't know why we're even together."

"I see," he said slowly, sipping his glass and looking out over the mingling crowd before apparently coming to a decision. "Well, I've never been accused of being a good man, Hermione. However, I will give you until tomorrow to think this through properly."

She chased the bitter sting of disappointment over his rejection down with another sip of her drink. Did she… would she really dare to take him up on it? Would she want to, even? What was she thinking?

"I should go to bed," she murmured. "It's getting late and I want to listen to that first session tomorrow on Polish herbal porridge poultices."

He smirked. "Certainly."

He followed her to the lift where they were joined by several other conference attendees. She slipped out on the fourth floor with a shy smile at him, not wanting to give anything away to the others in the lift, and walked slowly to her room, still embarrassed by her own daring and his rejection.

Just as she was about to stick the key in the lock he grasped her arm gently, and spun her around to face him. He was close, she'd only have to lean forward a little to come into contact with the hard plane of his chest.

"Hermione…" he murmured. He raised a hand to her hair and pushed back a strand that had broken free from her updo. "You enthralled me ever since I first saw you here, now in your rightful element free from those dunderheads you associate with. I am not a good man, witch. You offer me something I very much want, and I have no wish to be noble about it."

She barely had the time to nod before his lips grazed hers, causing her to gasp despite the relative chasteness of his kiss. He withdrew and quirked an eyebrow at her, always that eyebrow, and she all but flung herself at him, pulling his head down for better access. Their lips met. One of his hands tangled in her hair while the other pulled her body close to his. She nibbled at his lower lip, requesting more, and he complied by opening up to her, his tongue seeking hers. He tasted of liquor and want and something delightfully him. She raked her fingers through his hair, marvelling over the fact that she was actually kissing him, Professor Snape, before all thought fled when he deepened the kiss again and pushed her against the wall next to her door. He broke free and started trailing kisses along her neckline, her jaw, nibbling her earlobe. She could feel his arousal against her lower belly and was sure her knickers were absolutely drenched.

After a long time he pulled back, denying her further access to his mouth. He looked delightfully ravaged, his hair mussed, lips swollen from her kisses.

"Witch, I must stop before I take you right here in the corridor," he told her. "Sleep well, Hermione."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and before she could protest he had already turned on the spot and was stalking down the hallway.

~o~o~o~o~o~

She had thought that she wouldn't be able to fall asleep after being almost ravaged in the corridor by a certain dark-haired Slytherin, but to her surprise sleep came quickly after she'd struggled out of her dress and makeup, and she woke up the next day feeling both elated and hungry for more.

There were fewer people eating breakfast than the day before, she noted, but Marit and Sofia were already there so she joined their table. She didn't see Severus anywhere which was probably good, she thought, as she didn't want to broadcast what they had done to everyone in attendance. Luckily they didn't ask any nosey questions, allowing her to focus on her scrambled eggs and toast while the others talked about their plans for the day. Elfriede Obermeier, the German Charms Master who had sat next to Severus during the dinner was speaking later that day, and they'd all agreed that her lecture on communication charms sounded very interesting.

She didn't see Severus again until lunchtime, actually, when he smirked at her just as she was carrying a tray full of various delicacies off to the Norwegian witches' table.

"Would you care to accompany me to dinner tonight, Hermione? Somewhere out in the city? I'd rather not have to mingle again tonight."

That was an easy question to answer. "I'd love to."

He nodded with what appeared to be relief. "I'll meet you in the lobby at half six then, if that is alright with you?"

"Perfect, Severus."

She rejoined her new friends who were busy discussing the virtues of long-distance communication charms, and during the rest of the day she managed to immerse herself in knowledge, research and the academic environment together with like-minded people.

~o~o~o~o~o~

That's how she found herself seated across from Severus Snape in a small but elegant restaurant, in a secluded corner that lent itself excellently to intimate discussions. She'd settled on a deep blue floor-length dress that shimmered when she walked and looked modest unless she turned too fast, showing the high slit at the side that bared half her thigh. It felt odd to dress up all the time compared to her usual outfit at work, but she found she rather liked how she looked in her new robes.

He'd asked her what she liked and then ordered for both of them, utilising a translation charm that seemed to do its job as the waiter didn't as much as bat an eyelid at the string of unintelligible phrases he uttered. The food was excellent, the wine divine, and the company utterly mesmerising. His dark eyes held her gaze, drawing her in. He'd asked her about her life, what she'd done after Hogwarts, how she enjoyed her Apprenticeship, and she'd talked through the appetiser and main course almost without stopping. Still, he didn't appear bored, to her utter bewilderment. He'd even asked relevant, probing questions when she stopped talking to draw breath, take a bite or drink some wine.

She smiled at him over her wineglass. "Well, now you know what I've been doing, but what about you?"

He shrugged and looked out over the restaurant. "Horace stayed on for a year after the war while I was recovering but was adamant to leave after that, so I promised Minerva I'd stay at Hogwarts until she could find a decent replacement. I inherited his apprentice too so if all goes well, Miss Bulstrode will be able to take over my position in about a year at the start of the following school year."

Hermione frowned. "Bulstrode… Millicent? She's not exactly the kind of person I'd have expected you to take on as an apprentice."

That eyebrow of his rose again. "Miss Bulstrode is perhaps not one to do groundbreaking research, but she is more than adequate in her role both as an Apprentice and a future Professor. She kept her head down during her school years, seeing as Misters Potter, Weasley, Longbottom and Draco Malfoy stole most of the limelight along with you of course. She always wrote concise and well researched essays and her potions were always of acceptable quality. I also happen to wish to see her succeed rather than suffer for her father's misplaced loyalties, and this Apprenticeship kept her away from an arranged marriage that would have ended in misery."

She blushed and lowered her gaze to the candle lighting up the table. "I'm sorry, of course you're right. I hope she enjoys teaching, then."

That smirk on his face again made odd things happen to her insides. "Well, she's survived thus far and seems to tolerate the little blighters better than I do, not that that is a very difficult achievement, so I still harbour the hope that I may be released sooner rather than later."

Talk returned to other topics as they finished off their entrees, such as Hogwarts and the talks from the conference. Before long, the efficient waiter had cleared away their plates and returned with dessert menus. They squabbled over translations before ordering, Hermione hoping she got it right.

His intense gaze caught her eyes again. "It seems I have you to thank for being here today, Hermione. For a long time I was unaware of your actions during that period. Not until I returned to Hogwarts was I informed by Poppy that you were the one to save me with Dittany and Blood-Replenisher, and then you had saved me again by working to clear my name during the trial." He took a deep breath. "It seems I owe you a life debt."

Her eyes started to water. "I'm so relieved that you survived," she said. "I didn't know of your true loyalties then, but there was something that didn't sit right with you being Voldemort's and I always doubted the official story. Even back then I just couldn't let you die like that but I didn't think I did enough, there was so much blood, Severus. I still have nightmares about you and Nagini sometimes." She shuddered, remembering him on the floor, deathly pale, bright red blood spurting from his throat in time with his weakening pulse until she managed to seal it with Dittany. She'd poured what was left of her meagre stash of Blood-Replenishing Potion down his throat and cast a general healing spell at him but then time had run out and she'd run off without even looking back as he lay dying on the dirty floor. Her eyes watered when she thought about it. The fact that she'd alerted Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall of his location and status didn't feel enough to atone for the fact that she'd left him to die, alone and in pain.

"I'm sorry Severus, I'm so sorry for leaving you there all alone," she choked out and hid her face in her napkin, fearing that if she let the tears fall now she'd never manage to stop, and wouldn't that be a nice way to end such a lovely dinner?

"Hermione…" He reached across the table for her hand. "Don't be sorry, Hermione. Thank you for saving me. Although I didn't wish to continue living at the time, my life has been infinitely better these past years than ever before. Now I finally have a future to look forward to."

His hand was solid, warm, callused from his brewing. Her own hand looked tiny when matched with his long fingers but the touch grounded her, pulling her back to the present.

A thought struck her. "Did you ask me out because of the life debt?" Did he feel obliged to spend time with her, to be polite and attentive?

"No, never that," he hastened to answer. "I merely wished to see more of you, to get to know the real you past Hogwarts and our respective façades. "

She smiled at him. "Good, I don't want you to feel indebted to me. You've had enough people binding you to their service, I don't want to become the next one."

He inclined his head at her but didn't let go of her hand. Instead, his thumb started tracing slow circles on the back of her hand, sending shivers of pleasure all the way down to her thigh.

Dessert were served almost without Hermione noticing, being lost in the intensity that was Severus Snape's full attention. It was completely intoxicating. Still, when she discovered the rich chocolate cake deposited on her plate she couldn't help but to declare it completely divine once she'd taken her first bite. Severus had chosen the local Strudel which was equally excellent. She forced him to taste her cake, hardly believing her own daring, feeding Hogwarts Potions Master chocolate cake from her own fork across the table, but the way his eyelids fluttered shut clearly showed he liked it. She was offered a piece of his dessert the same way, on his fork, his eyes tracing its path to her mouth as she tasted it.

"There's one thing…" she began tentatively once they were nearly done with dessert. He raised an eyebrow at her, giving her courage to continue. "During the War… we were caught and brought to Malfoy Manor, I don't know if you heard about it?" He nodded. Damn, this was still hard to talk about. She thought she'd overcome it by now but the tears were threatening to fall. "Bellatrix… she did things. I've learned to accept it but when I read your article in Hippocratic Corpus I thought that perhaps…"

His hand grasped hers again. "Hermione. If I can help you, of course I will. That article was about cursed scars, is that what you're implying?"

She nodded, still fighting tears. Damn it all, why couldn't she keep herself together? He dug around in his pockets and fished out a pristine white handkerchief which he handed to her. She took it gratefully, trying to keep herself from falling apart.

"You can show me later and I'll do what I can to help you, regardless. Bellatrix… I'm glad Molly got her, but I still sometimes wish to bring her back from the dead only to kill her again. She tortured you?"

Suddenly she was back there, in Malfoy Manor's drawing room, again. The world shrank to remembered pain, her own shrieks and Bellatrix' laughter as she was Crucio'd and cut, with Fenrir Greyback panting in anticipation somewhere behind her.

"Hermione…" a voice said, breaking through the haze of agony. "You're not there anymore. Come back to me."

Strong arms lifted her and she gradually became aware of sitting across a man's lap, his arms around her, a hand rubbing circles on her back.

"I'm sorry," she managed, mortified at breaking into pieces practically on top of Severus Snape.

"Shh, don't be, it's alright, you're safe now. Come, let us leave." Apparently he had already settled the bill. He helped her put her coat on which was a bit difficult since she refused to let go of him.

It seemed the most natural thing in the world to follow him back to his room after that. He had apparently been given one of the top suites as befitted one of the key speakers, also in the Muggle part of the hotel. He had a sitting area with cream-coloured furniture matching the golden-coloured walls, contrasted by dark wooden beams in the ceiling and the same style of furniture as in her room, although his curtains were royal blue and gold rather than red. He gestured for her to settle on the couch, and she did so after kicking off her heels which earned her a smirk. Meanwhile, he had managed to pour two glasses of cognac and handed one to her before seating himself to her left, next to her but not close enough to touch.

"Wow, your mini bar is well stocked," she commented after accepting her glass.

He shook his head and swirled the amber liquid around before dipping his considerable nose in the glass, inhaling the fumes. "No, this was a gift here at the conference from one of my French colleagues."

"This whole experience has been, sorry to say it, but, completely magical," Hermione admitted. "I've never felt less out of place anywhere, despite having to wear fancy robes all the time."

He smiled, a rather open smile that she'd never seen on his face before. "I know the feeling. I daresay that if you were to ask the other attendees many would agree with you, even about the robes."

They lapsed into silence, Hermione thinking about the whole experience and the man beside her. She had no idea what he was thinking about, but somehow she found herself resting against his side, her head on his shoulder while his arm traced intricate runes over her upper arm. He was warm and solid in that wiry way but she felt safe with him. Protected. Cherished, even, although she couldn't quite make sense of why. Somehow her own right hand had found its way across his chest. She could feel his heartbeat under her palm and all his layers of clothing, a reassuring steady beat under her hand. Somehow she must have worked on unbuttoning his frock coat without really noticing, as he suddenly inhaled sharply when her hand rested directly on his crisp cotton shirt.

His free hand came down to clasp hers, causing her to look up at him. He dipped his head down to ghost a kiss over her lips. "You want this, Hermione? I'm not a good man. I know you're in a supposed relationship, although I cannot fathom why you would choose to saddle yourself with that ginger menace. I won't offer you anything like that. No declarations of love, no relationship, nothing of the sort, only pleasure and understanding. You're a lovely young witch, Hermione. You deserve to be treated as such."

"What about you? Are you seeing anyone now, then?"

He shook his head. "No. There have been a few brief dalliances but I quickly tire of witches lured by those articles in the Prophet."

She grimaced, she knew what he meant. The paper had not known what to do with one Severus Snape, and so he truly was painted as scoundrel or saint depending on something she was yet to discern, perhaps the weather or what mood the editor's wife was in that day. Still, she'd seen his name associated with various fashionable witches, their pictures taken during Malfoy receptions or semi-mandatory Ministry events. She had no claims to this man, no right to ask for more than she already had, as even that was technically speaking taking it too far considering her own relationship status.

He dipped his head down towards her. When his mouth was almost touching hers he stilled, his breath hot against her skin. "I'd be honoured to have you, Hermione."

"Yes… Yes, Severus."

She didn't care anymore, about anything. His lips found hers again, his tongue begging for entry, his hands pulling her tight against his lean body. She opened up for him, tasting the cognac and something uniquely him on his tongue. He was hot and insistent but somehow her own need matched his, her hands tangling themselves in his hair, raking his scalp which caused a delightful growl from him. She wanted, wanted, now please thankyouverymuch. Heat was pooling in her belly, soaking her knickers. He pulled her up in his lap, his hand kneading her bum while his other hand was tangled in her hair, his thumb by her cheek. She moaned into his mouth, deepening the kiss even further, battling his tongue.

For some reason he broke free from her mouth. "Are you protected, witch?" he asked.

Oh. Right. Well, at least one of them managed to keep their head. "Yes… potion," she said and pulled his head down for another kiss.

"If you don't mind, let us relocate to the bedroom," he murmured gravelly.

She couldn't quite answer but managed to nod before squealing undignified when he hoisted her up along with him and carried her to the bedroom where he deposited her on the bed before removing his frock coat and boots. She reached for him, feeling oddly bereft when he wasn't touching her, before he descended on her again and she was lost in passion. The hard length of him was pressed against her lower stomach, the contact causing another gush of need through her body. He nibbled a trail down from her ear to her collar bone, causing goose bumps all down her spine.

"Off," she gasped in his mouth, trying to pull his shirt off his shoulders with limited success. She had to refrain from kissing him in order to manage it but couldn't resist his sharp jawline and throat. He tasted just perfect, something rich and spicy mixed with parchment and herbs.

"Bossy little witch," he murmured. She could feel his smile against her skin.

"Don't you forget it," she told him and continued her assault on his buttons.

She wasn't sure who was groaning when she managed to peel off his shirt. He was lean, with sparse black hairs on his sternum and below his navel, and some scars scattered across his chest. She couldn't resist running her hands over him, marvelling in the silky feel of his skin and the way he looked at her when she touched him. He smelled nice too, of something earthy mixed with parchment and a hint of sandalwood. She bent forward to ghost a kiss over his nipple, causing him to hiss in pleasure before he took charge again, pulling her dress over her head before flipping her down on the bed.

"Exquisite…" he murmured as he gazed down on her before his eyes snapped to hers again, smouldering with heat. "How many times should I make you come tonight, witch?"

That confused her for a second, but soon she realised that he meant exactly that as his hands seemed to be everywhere at once, mapping her body. He found spots that she had never thought to be sensitive, using hands, mouth and nose to trace her contours. She tried to pull him closer but he resisted, so she ended up stroking his arms, his back, his head instead. She could do nothing but to hold on to anything she found as he drove her mad with lust, and he hadn't even touched her breasts or anything more sensitive yet. When his left hand finally snaked up to her breast she almost sobbed in relief at the touch. He soon followed with his mouth, laving hot, open-mouthed kisses on both of her breasts, mapping out their shapes with his nose before finally tweaking one nipple between his long fingers while his mouth descended on the other one. She slung a leg over his arse in response, wanting him closer, needing more.

From absolutely nowhere an orgasm hit her when he managed to hit some sort of rhythm in his sucking of one nipple while tweaking the other, making her hips gyrate in tandem.

"That was one," he rather uselessly informed her, with the most satisfied male smirk she'd ever seen.

She reached for him, needing comfort and touch as she came down from her high. He seemed to understand and held her close, peppering her face with kisses until she'd recovered enough to seek out his lips again for a deeper kiss. She could feel his undeniable arousal against her thigh, but he was still wearing trousers just as she still had her knickers on. She started fumbling with the fly on his black slacks but had to give up.

"Off!"

"Are you a witch or aren't you?" he asked before Banishing his trousers and underwear somewhere else.

"I doubt you want to try my wandless aim right now."

When she reached down to pull off her own knickers he stopped her. "No, allow me." He started to shimmy down the bed before she had the time to properly feel him up, but her flash of disappointment was quickly forgotten under his talented hands and oh, that tongue. He did unspeakable things to her belly button, his hands circling her waist. He moved lower, his weight locking one of her legs in place while he trailed kisses down her stomach and along the edge of her knickers before slowly, way too slowly pulling them down. She eagerly helped him in his liberation efforts and had completely forgotten about feeling anxious or worried about him seeing her when he finally had her bare right in front of his face, his breath hot on her skin.

The relief when he finally touched her properly, tracing a long finger along her labia, quickly gave way to blazing hot lust when he started touching her properly. He dipped a finger into her and then pulled it out, circling her clit.

"Show me your rhythm, sweet," he murmured against her thigh.

Hesitantly she reached down to touch herself, his large finger meeting hers. She started rubbing her clit the way she liked it, and it didn't take him long to insert his own fingers into the mix and pull her hand off, sucking the moistened fingers into his mouth. His tongue twirled around her digits, lapping up her juices before releasing her. Meanwhile he had apparently perfected the rhythm she'd shown him and she could feel herself being pulled higher and higher towards another orgasm. Just as it hit she felt his hot mouth descend on her and when he sucked her clit into his mouth she shattered, howling his name, clutching at his hair with her hands as an anchor.

"Excellent, sweet."

He allowed her to pull him up again for another kiss. She could taste herself on his lips, that musky sweet slippery juice. This time she wanted to do some exploring of her own, to see what made him tick, this oddly mysterious man whom she both knew and didn't know at all. He allowed her to trace his face with her fingers, ghosting kisses over his eyebrows, his sharp jawline, his nose, but she felt him go tense when she approached his ear and he twisted out of her reach when she tried to kiss his neck. Oh… Nagini. Of course. She didn't see much scar tissue in the dim light but she could very well understand his reluctance. Kissing his mouth again in apology she then swiftly made her way down to his chest, trailing her lips to the closest flat nipple. She flicked it with her tongue which caused him to groan, his cock twitching next to her arm, almost as if in invitation. She kissed a path down his stomach while her hand started carding his coarse pubic hair. His balls happened to be in the way of her hand, so she cupped them which elicited a groan from their owner. His cock hovered nearly at eye level with her and she finally took mercy on him, wrapping a hand around the base. He was thicker than Ron's, rigid and hot to the touch. When she looked up at his face he had arranged the pillows so that he had a better view without straining his neck, and he looked completely blissed out. His eyes widened when she stuck out her tongue, not breaking eye contact, and gently licked the slit at the tip of his cock. He tasted salty of precum already, a fact that made her oddly pleased. She did affect this taciturn wizard after all.

She shifted closer. When she engulfed his dick head with her mouth his hips bucked sharply, causing his cock to hit the roof of her mouth. He'd closed his eyes and was fisting the sheets, apparently trying to stay in control. She set a slow pace, more intent on exploring him than on making him cum, her hand wrapped loosely at the base for stability. It really was a fine specimen of cock, thick and rigid, not that she had much to compare him with. There was Ron of course… and two handjobs for Viktor, and that was it in terms of Hermione Granger's sexual experience if one didn't count erotic novels. He tasted better too, clean but with that male musky scent and something that was uniquely him. She sped up gradually, almost without noticing, and tightened the grip with her hand which moved up and down his shaft to meet the movements of her mouth.

"Mercy, Granger," he groaned suddenly and pulled her off his cock. He descended on her mouth, kissing her hard, almost as if he was trying to possess her. She didn't mind his passion, though, in fact it was rather empowering to be the cause of such intense emotion.

He gentled his kiss and pulled her snug against his body, his erection poking her hip. She could feel the thrum of his heartbeat through her cheek, resting against his chest. She pulled her head back slightly to look him in the eye and raised her hand to stroke his temple, his earlobe.

"Severus, fuck me," she whispered when he made no move to, well, move.

His attention snapped back to her, like a stage lamp lighting up the scene. "I'd be honoured to," he murmured, his deep voice resonating within her, hitting a certain spot that made her pussy even wetter.

He growled again and flipped her on her back, following up immediately with a heated kiss while the hand he didn't use to support himself quickly buried itself between her legs. He let his thumb circle her clit rhythmically and slipped a finger inside again, causing her hips to arch to meet him. Another finger joined the first, causing her to gasp again and reach for his shoulders. She could feel his smile against her mouth as he nudged her legs open with his knee and settled properly between them, bracing most of his weight on one elbow. His erection brushed against her curls, causing both of them to gasp. She'd never felt as wanton before, aching with need for him to fill her.

He rubbed his length over her wet lips for lubrication before he adjusted his angle and pushed the head inside of her. It felt absolutely fantastic. He grimaced from holding back as he rocked back and forth slowly, but she couldn't resist raising her hips to meet him, encouraging him to go deeper. He smirked and lowered his head to kiss her before snapping his hips hard against her, causing her to gasp when he filled her completely.

Soon he'd set a steady rhythm, not very fast but deep. He pulled one of her knees up, hooking her leg over his elbow. The new angle allowed him to hit her g-spot and despite the rather slow rhythm it didn't take long at all for her to feel the build-up to another orgasm. She reached for him, needing an anchor, something to ground her while he steadily drove her beyond herself. She raked her nails across his upper arms and pulled him down for another kiss. Soon, faster than she'd ever expected, her orgasm hit again, that strange mixture of tension and relaxation causing her to arch her back and howl into his mouth. Nothing existed but the two of them, and she'd lost track of who was who. He soon followed, picking up the intensity while she rode out the waves of pleasure, prolonging it. He grunted and grimaced when he came deep within her just as she relaxed.

He collapsed on top of her, panting hard. She welcomed his weight on top of her and wrapped her arms around his neck, refusing to let him off. She could feel his sweat mingling with hers, his breath against her ear, slowly levelling out.

Finally he rolled off her and she grasped his hand as they lay side by side, not wanting to let go of the physical connection.

"Wow. I didn't know it could be like that."

He chuckled. "Really?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "I have no patience for bad sex, but it seems we are surprisingly compatible. Have your previous lovers really not managed to satisfy you?"

She shook her head, too dazed to think. It had never been like that with Ron, never this urgent, this strong. Ron had never bothered learning to please her and she hadn't known how to ask. He rolled towards her and kissed her forehead before casting a wandless Scourgify on them both.

"Stay the night?" he asked, looking oddly vulnerable lying naked on the white sheets.

She nodded, how could she not? After padding off to the gorgeous bathroom for a quick clean-up she made her way back to his bed, burrowing as close to him as she could. They fell asleep in a tangle of limbs.

~o~o~o~o~o~

The next morning she woke up to see him already up, dressed in one of the hotel's white bath robes, his hair wet from a shower. She felt oddly bereft of the experience of waking up next to him, but the sight of him in a bath robe was also one she'd cherish.

"Good morning," he told her, a smile evident in his voice even if his lips only twitched a little upwards.

"Morning," she admitted. She snuck off to the bathroom, once again awed by the lavish luxury provided. There was an extra bath robe available, and she gladly slipped into the fluffy white gown before padding back out to Severus who was still in the bedroom.

"Will you show me the scar, Hermione? You're still wearing a glamour?"

She nodded, hesitantly. Ron had always been grossed out by it so she usually had it covered unless she was alone, same with the ugly slash across her sternum from Dolohov in the Department of Mysteries.

"Why did you create the salve?" she asked, stalling for time.

He gestured towards his throat. "Nagini's bite, although it is not completely erased yet. Aesthetics aside, I couldn't abide with the feeling of too tight skin in places. It also served to get rid of the remains of the Dark Mark, and several other old scars. Now, show me?"

She took a deep breath and nodded. He did have good reason to need a scar healing salve, after all. He probably wouldn't judge her for her own marks, any more than she would judge him for his. She let the bath robe fall to the floor. "Finite Incantatem", she murmured. The letters were still not healed properly and stood out angrily red against her skin, some of them partially scabbed over. She clutched her arm against her stomach where the ugly rope-like scar from Dolohov also had appeared, but at least that one was properly closed.

Slowly she turned towards him and unfurled her arm from her body. He took her hand in his, her palm up, and the gentle touch of his hand was in stark contrast to the look of utter fury she saw in his face. His lips were pinched tight and he was glaring daggers at the letters, as if his gaze could kill the perpetrator by proxy.

"It's just a word," she murmured.

"Wait here," he told her, his gaze finally snapping up to meet her eyes, and he rose abruptly and stalked from the room. She felt confused, had she done something wrong?

A minute later he returned, a jar of salve in his hands. He twisted the lid off and took a dollop of it on a finger as he sat down on the bed next to her again. He took her arm gently and started smearing a thick layer of salve over the disfiguring letters. Somehow it felt even more intimate than sex, sitting naked next to him on a hotel bed while he gently and thoroughly massaged the white salve into her arm.

Gradually she became aware of a tingling sensation all along her lower arm, causing her to gasp. "Severus…" She could almost see the letters receding through the thick white paste, but surely that must be wishful thinking only.

He raised an eyebrow at her but didn't cease his ministrations. "Is it tingling? It should, that means your immune system is rejecting the curse. Since you've had it for quite some time the results won't come immediately but if you continue applying this daily you should see a marked difference within a few months. May I treat your other scar as well?"

She nodded and laid down again on the pillows, trying to keep her newly greased arm from touching the bedsheets. He appeared to drink in the sight of her naked in his bed, but whispered a spell at her arm which encased it in a transparent bandage before he started the procedure anew on the slanted scar that went from just below her clavicle, across her sternum and down under her breast. Although it had faded to a dark pink it was still ropelike and taut in places, but his gentle touch on it felt divine.

His head lowered towards her breast even as he finished rubbing the salve into her skin and wrapped it with the same bandage spell. "Hermione, you look completely delectable at the moment. I hope you don't mind too much if I ravish you?"

"By all means," she said and waved a hand vaguely in his direction. "Do continue, good sir."

He smirked up at her before his head dipped to her breast and his teeth lightly worried at her nipple. She gasped at the contact, it felt as if bolts of energy surged from her breast down to her pussy. Her hand rose to his still wet hair, keeping him in place. More, she needed more, now please thank you.

He shifted lower on the bed, trailing kisses along her stomach. His hands wandered lower, lower still. She shivered when he first touched her folds, his lips quickly following, causing her to groan from their hot, silky touch. Her hands tangled in his hair almost without her noticing. The hot flush of need rose urgently in her body and he had her howling his name in no time at all. Before she came down from her high, he quickly moved back up her body, positioning himself right before driving his hard cock into her.

"Oh!" she gasped when he filled her. "Severus…"

Her hips rose to meet him, urging him on, faster, harder, more. She ran her hands over his biceps and shoulders. This time he set a much faster pace, slamming into her deep enough to graze her cervix but the pain mixed with enough pleasure to make her want more. She wanted to see him let go. Her legs snaked up to his waist, changing up the angle to give her g-spot another rough massage.

"Severus!" Her orgasm built quickly and she gasped his name just before it hit. She could feel her inner muscles clamp down on him and apparently that was just what was needed to make him come too with a grimace.

She pulled him down on top of her again as they rode out their highs, slowly coming back to their own bodies again.

"If you don't have any pressing arrangements I will order room service for breakfast," he said and kissed her forehead. "Do you want a shower?"

"You have the best ideas, Severus Snape," she grinned.

~o~o~o~o~o~

Breakfast was lovely but she was suddenly hit by the realisation that they were due to part ways again. There weren't any other sessions, so all she needed to do was to return to her own room, pack her things, check out and make her way to the Portkey station by Floo. How could she return to the real world after this weekend?

"May I see you again?" she half whispered after she'd pulled her high heels back on for the short trek down to her room. She placed a hand on his chest, slowly tracing the pattern of his frock coat.

He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. "If you so wish, Hermione."

"Good. I do so wish." She looked up to meet his gaze.

A slow, private smile crept up over his face before he broke her line of sight by leaning forward to press a slow kiss to her forehead.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

A/N: So. There you have it. What's a girl to do when torn between should and want? What are the consequences and how do you live with yourself?

Let me know what you think!