The Excuses

She made her way down to the dungeons in the evening of the first Friday in June, feeling both nostalgic and silly in her old school uniform. It didn't fit quite right anymore, especially over her chest area. She'd wrapped a travel cloak over it all to hide it from others, should she run into someone, and she had cast the best Disillusionment and Notice-Me Not charms she could on herself since the students were still in the Castle. Filch had been waiting by the gates to let her in and hadn't recognised her other than asking for the password Severus had provided when he had clarified the details in another note. Had they done that often, arranging for someone to see him in the dungeons with Filch's help at the gates? Were they still doing it? She had to force the unbidden thoughts away, after all he wasn't interested in a relationship and she shouldn't be one to speak if he happened to see someone else. Still, she hoped he wasn't.

She knocked on his office door before opening it without waiting for a response. Taking a few steps in she still didn't see him, but assumed he was there.

"Severus, why did you want me to —"

A sharp crack startled her. He stood behind the desk, wearing his teaching robes and looking every bit the stern Potions Master she remembered from her classes. He held a riding crop, for some reason, and had snapped it against the desk. He pointed towards one of the uncomfortable-looking chairs and gestured for her to remove her travel cloak. Confused, she did as he indicated, putting the cloak over one of the chairs and sitting down in the other, adjusting her school skirt over her knees. The chair was exactly as uncomfortable as it had seemed, most likely on purpose.

"Detention, Miss Granger," he hissed, his eyes boring into hers. "You know the meaning of that, don't you?"

"What?!"

He stalked closer, behaving so much like he had when she was his student. Stopping next to his desk of his desk he put both hands down on it and leaned forward, towering over her. She'd only visited his office once or twice during her Hogwarts years, but it was as dark and ominous as she remembered. Shelves with odd, dusty specimens and musty tomes lined the walls, while his dark wooden desk stood in the centre of the room with two chairs in front of it. The room was poorly lit, a few candles casting odd shadows, making it hard to see any details.

"Miss Granger, you've been a naughty witch, haven't you? Have you been pilfering my stores again?"

"Nosir!" Heat was pooling in her belly.

He smiled in that predatory way he used to do when someone had given the wrong answer to a question.

"Oh yes," he purred. "Naughty witches who steal from their Professors and deny doing so will get spanked, Miss Granger. It's in the rule book."

"What?!" That wasn't exactly what she'd expected.

"Did you forget something, Miss Granger?" That damnable eyebrow rose again.

"I'm sorry, sir!"

He nodded. "That's better. Now don't forget it again or I'll have to add ten strokes for each time you forget to call me sir. Come here and bend over my lap."

He pulled out his own office chair next to his desk and sat down. Nerves, disbelief and rapidly mounting excitement were warring for attention but her obedient side won out. Gingerly she settled across his lap, waiting for his next move. To her surprise he began lecturing instead of anything physical. The position was slightly uncomfortable seeing as her head was below her arse but he Summoned one of the chairs for her to rest her arms and head on.

"There are two positions that are especially useful for a spanking, Miss Granger," he began. His voice was calm and detached, as if he was describing the effect of a potion ingredient. "This one happens to be my favourite, seeing as it gives very good access to all affected areas. The other would be with you standing up, bracing against my desk. That one is especially useful when using an implement, such as that crop over there. Now, what would you prefer, Miss Granger? This way, or the crop?"

Embarrassment was rising quickly, over her position, his questions, and the fact that her knickers were probably sopping wet already. "This way, sir!" she quickly answered.

He chuckled. The sound made her feel ridiculously pleased with herself, for pleasing him. What was wrong with her? "Very good. Now, naughty witches who are to receive a spanking will need to pull up their skirt. Could you do that, Miss Granger?"

With some wiggling she managed to comply without moving too much from his lap. She could smell him from there, his personal scent of earthy herbs and sandalwood.

"Very good, sweet. Now, I shall pull your knickers down. Naughty witches will get spanked on their bare bottom."

She could feel him slowly hooking his fingers in the waistband of her knickers, pulling them over her arse. The chilly dungeon air caused goosebumps to form on her flesh, but she could feel the heat of a blush on her face.

The first slap stung, making her flinch when it hit.

"Well, what do naughty witches say when they receive a spanking, hmm?"

"Ehh… Thank you, sir?"

"Very good." His hand fell again on her backside, in a slightly different spot, and again. The sharp contact stung but she guessed he wasn't using that much force.

She lost track, lost count. His hand rhythmically falling on her arse, causing her flesh to burn. The sounds, the slow throbbing feeling that slowly spread down her legs and between them. Somehow something else was shaken loose as well, all her worries and stress and fear melting away under his hand, pushed aside as the only thing that mattered was the present. After a while she noticed that he'd stopped and instead was rubbing gentle circles over her back, her legs, her arse.

"Thank you sir," she croaked and meant it.

"On your knees, sweet," he told her. "You've been a good girl, it's time for your reward."

She felt stupidly happy for his praise. Clumsily she climbed off his lap and settled on her knees in front of him still seated in his chair. He was undoing buttons, she hazily noticed, and soon he fished out his heavy dick out of its confines. He wasn't completely hard but maybe halfway there.

"You've dreamt of this, haven't you? To suck your Professor's cock?" He moved forward a bit and opened his knees so that she could settle between them.

She quickly took him in her mouth, resting her elbows on his thighs and using a hand on his shaft for assistance. He was clean and she liked the feel of his shaft in her mouth, the way the skin moved under her lips.

"Yes, sir!" she tried to say around his thick length. He chuckled at her attempt.

"Very good, Miss Granger."

She got to work. Her knees ached and her arse felt as if it was on fire but that didn't matter much. For once, the constant whirring in her brain had shut itself off. The only thing that mattered was to make him feel good. She slobbered all over his shaft and used the saliva to make her hand slick so that she could use a tighter grip on him. Her other hand had good access to his balls which seemed to appreciate the attention, making him inhale sharply. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked hard, causing his hips to buck towards her.

"I believe your detention is finished, Miss Granger," he groaned. "As will I be soon if you keep that up. May I?"

He'd pushed her off him with a hand in her hair, and now offered her some support to rise. She released him reluctantly and took his hand while he tucked his stiff cock back inside his robes. With a wave of his hand, a doorway became visible on the back wall.

"Hermione," he whispered and kissed her wetly, hungrily. He opened the door and pulled her along through a short corridor and another doorway, to his private quarters. The fire was lit, she spotted two armchairs and several bookshelves but didn't have much time to investigate as he led her through another door which opened to a short hallway with two doors. He paused in front of one of them.

"Would you mind terribly if I take you to bed?"

"Please." She reached up to kiss him in turn, wanting to prove to him that she meant it.

He flung the door open and started in on her uniform, pulling her skirt down by hand before giving up. With a wave of his wand she was naked and deposited in his large, four-poster bed. He quickly followed after another series of charms, and she pulled him down for kisses, needing him close.

Both of them groaned when he entered her, filling her up completely. This time he didn't go for gentle and slow, instead he set a furious pace as if trying to fuck her through the mattress. When he hooked one of her legs over his shoulder the change in angle caused her to completely fall apart, and that in turn allowed him to let himself go. She pulled her leg back down just as he collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily. She didn't mind, instead she pulled him closer, holding him tight as they returned to normalcy.

After a while he rolled off to the side, despite her protests. His bed was soft, comfortable, and huge. He had a dark green duvet cover which contrasted nicely against the dark wood of the bed posters and the white bedsheet. A large cabinet for clothes stood by the side of the bed with a small rug in front of it, and the other side had a window with dark green heavy curtains. A dresser stood by the foot of the bed and he had two side tables on either side of the bed, both laden with books. A fluffy grey area rug covered most of the area between the door and the bed, and she noted a pair of lambswool slippers in the corner.

"Severus?"

"What, witch?"

She bit her lip. What did she actually want to know? She had a million questions but probably wouldn't like the answers. "Do you… do that often?"

"What? Oh." He settled closer, his nose buried in her hair. "No, I don't, it has been a very long time. And before you ask, never with a student. I haven't ever felt tempted even when some of the NEWT-level witches tried to throw themselves at me. Not that it happened very often, mind you, but a few times over the years."

"Alright." That made her feel a bit better, at least until she shifted slightly and her backside stung, causing her to hiss.

"Oh, my apologies, I will see to that." He rolled away from her and started rooting around in the side table next to the bed.

She started to untangle herself from bed. "Where's your bathroom?"

"Door across the hallway." He gestured vaguely at the door.

His bathroom was large and airy, with a combined shower and bathtub and several dark wood cabinets. The floor and tub appeared to be marble, probably shaped with magic as she couldn't see any seams. The sink and countertops were a light marble, the faucets were well-polished brass and she was relieved to see that he had a regular, Muggle mirror over the sink and not a talking one. She relieved herself and washed off the worst of the stickiness in the shower.

When she returned he had her lie down on her belly so that he could rub a salve all over her backside. She winced at his first touch, her bum red and hot after his prior treatment. The salve helped, however.

"Do you want me to rub your back?" he asked when he'd put the jar away.

She shook her head and reached for him. "Not now, could you just hold me?"

He placed a light kiss on her shoulder blade. "Of course, just let me get ready." He slipped off to the bathroom too.

"What did you think?" he asked some time later. He was behind her, holding her securely against his chest, his long legs fitting along hers nicely.

"I … it's hard to say," she began slowly. "At first I was a bit scared and embarrassed but then … it was just such a relief to let everything go. I don't understand how it could be like that?"

He nodded against her hair. "It releases a lot of endorphins. You did remember the safe word, right? I didn't exactly ask you beforehand if you wanted to do it."

She nodded, her cheek rubbing against his bicep. "Yes, but it wasn't too much. I didn't feel the need to use it."

"Good."

She twisted slightly but didn't manage to turn around to look at him. "You know I trust you, right? I know you wouldn't hurt me on purpose."

His breath hitched. He didn't answer, other than by pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her temple. She thought she heard him whisper a thanks as she drifted off to sleep.

~o~o~o~o~o~

It was rather surreal to wake up in Severus Snape's bed at Hogwarts. When she turned to look at him he was already awake, on his side looking at her.

"Morning. Did you sleep well?" he asked.

She smiled. "I seem to do that with you."

"Excellent." He pressed a kiss on her forehead and excused himself to the shower.

Meanwhile, Hermione stretched and got up from the bed. Her trusted and by now rather shabby beaded bag had been left in his office the day before with her clothes, so she stole the white shirt he'd discarded on the floor the previous evening instead. It went well over her thighs and smelled of him, but she had to roll up the sleeves to free her hands. He came back in just as she had finished, with only a towel around his waist.

"That looks good on you," he commented and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her. She ran her hands over his back and up his wet hair, urging his head down for a kiss.

"I'll have to say the same." She gestured at his towel and stroked his chest, tweaking a dark nipple with her thumb.

He frowned. "I find that hard to believe, I'm not much to look at."

She wanted to kiss him everywhere to prove just how wrong he was, but other needs made themselves known and she had to excuse herself to the bathroom. Shortly thereafter they were settled in his living room with a large selection of breakfast items delivered from the kitchens. He had retrieved her bag and cloak from the office but she'd elected to keep his shirt although she had put on fresh underwear.

Daylight filtered in through a window on one of the walls. She couldn't make sense of the dimensions since they were still in the dungeons and besides the wall must be internal to the Castle, but he explained it away with magic. Apparently the Castle had seen fit to put in windows that actually showed the view from a completely different part when he returned to live in his quarters after the war, which also explained the one in his bedroom. A large mahogany dining table was stood by the window, with four chairs around it and heaps of parchment, research notes and books scattered over the surface. He had a couch and an armchair by the fireplace, and bookshelves along most of the walls. She was itching to get her sticky mitts on his books but her stomach insisted on starting with breakfast.

He eyed her sternly once they'd cleared away the breakfast items. "Get dressed, witch, if you want us to go over your notes. You are horribly distracting in my shirt."

"Awwww!"

Some time later she'd spread her notes all over his dining table and was talking about her failed attempts, while he was listening intently and making his own notes in the notebook she'd given him. He asked for more details on the charms she'd developed, the calculations and the baseline status of the patients.

Much, much later she stretched her back and stifled a yawn. She was stiff, her hand was cramped from writing, she was half buried under notes and books from his shelves and her stomach grumbled at her. A quick look at her wristwatch confirmed what her body was telling her.

"Severus?"

"Hmmm?" He looked up distractedly from where he was busy cross-referencing various texts, taking copious notes.

"We seem to have missed lunch… and probably dinner as well."

His eyebrows rose a fraction. "Is that so? Indeed it is."

They had dinner in his quarters, again brought up from the kitchen by the elves. Afterwards he insisted on a walk around the lake, saying they needed some fresh air and that they were done for the day with research despite Hermione's protests. Still, the walk was nice. The June evening was warm for Scotland with the sun still up. Birdsong and fresh flowers lined their path, and he pointed out a few that could be used for potions. Luckily they didn't encounter any students.

She stayed another night. Their lovemaking was slower but no less intense, and afterwards she drifted off to sleep, feeling safe and content in his arms.

~o~o~o~o~o~

Ron and Harry left on their secret mission, to Hermione's relief. She very firmly pushed both of them to the back of her mind, refusing to think about her boyfriend while meeting Severus. It was unclear how long they would be gone but they said to plan for at least two weeks. The only issue was that Severus was still busy with lessons as Hogwarts had another few weeks to go of term, and he still had obligations, detentions and rounds to oversee, but Millicent managed quite a lot of the workload. He also had to work on his new business, with some contract brewing and administration tasks that couldn't wait, as well as revising his textbooks.

She'd made a more official appearance at Hogwarts the next Wednesday after work, requesting entrance by the gates and greeting both Hagrid and Minerva on the way to his office. As expected, Minerva insisted that she join them at the High Table for dinner, and so she found herself seated between the Headmistress and Severus, looking out over the mass of students. There were fewer than she'd thought, apparently enrolment was still down after the war, but the numbers for next year were looking up and there was even talk of hiring extra teachers for a few of the core subjects since the classes were growing. Hogwarts could handle it, after all, there were lots of unused classrooms and staff accommodations, but getting money from the Board of Governors might be trickier.

"Would you and Harry perhaps be able to speak up for us?" Minerva asked over their sticky toffee pudding.

"Of course, if you think that would help," Hermione agreed, ignoring Severus' muttered commentary on her other side.

As Hermione and Severus rose to leave Minerva spoke up again.

"Lovely to see you, dear, I guess you'll be around a bit if you are collaborating with Severus? You're always welcome here at Hogwarts, you know."

"Thank you, Minerva," Hermione said with a smile.

They went down to his lab which had an entrance via his office, through the corridor she'd barely glimpsed during her first visit. They went down a set of stairs and opened a heavy oak door, to a large room with white-washed walls, several workspaces, fume hoods and equipment shelves. It looked almost like a Muggle lab, but with more esoteric equipment. Millicent was there already, busy brewing potions for the Infirmary. After some slightly awkward greetings, Millicent went back to her work leaving them to set up brewing stations in what appeared to be Severus' part of the lab.

"This lab is what had me agree to returning to Hogwarts," he commented as he pulled out cauldrons and chopping boards from their storage shelves.

"Yes, I can really understand that. It's amazing, Severus."

He nodded. "Of course, a lot of the equipment, reference books and ingredients are mine so I'll see what I take with me when I leave next year."

She brought out her notes again and started listing ingredients they needed. He had insisted on both brewing the standard Memory Potion for reference, and a few of the alternatives she'd tried. It was difficult at first to keep their interactions strictly professional, given that Millicent was there too, but after a while she was able to relax and focus on the brewing rather than on the man beside her. Still, she couldn't help but to marvel at his dexterity and intense focus when he chopped ingredients or stirred the cauldrons, seemingly without counting. She barely noticed when Millicent finished up her work and left, and they stayed late, not wanting to leave until the Memory Potion was at the point where it needed to sit for a day to cool down before doing the next step.

That evening she stayed with him but neither of them had energy for more than a cuddle before falling asleep. The next day was a working day so she only had time for a shared breakfast before having to leave. Luckily she'd packed a toothbrush and some underwear in her bag, and her animals had food and water available. He walked her to the gates where they shared a kiss before she was off to work again.

Announcing to the Hogwarts staff that they were involved in research made it easy to spend time together, allowing them to share weekday evenings, nights and mornings and not just meeting over the weekends. They argued potions theories, Arithmantic calculations, and who made the best chocolate mousse after having spent a messy Saturday in Hermione's flat. The research was still not exactly yielding the results she needed, but the relief of having someone as bright as Severus Snape on her side made it easier to bear. She wasn't alone, and she had someone to bounce ideas off of.

Healer Trout was elated when she brought Severus to a meeting at St Mungo's just after Hogwarts had released the students for the summer. They went through her research and the department's other work, cautiously sharing various research ideas. Hermione suspected the two wizards had reached some sort of unspoken understanding regarding contracting work after Severus was to leave Hogwarts, and idly wondered if Healer Trout had been in Slytherin.

~o~o~o~o~o~

Ron's and Harry's return from their Auror assignment, a little over three weeks after they left, threw a wrench in her weekend plans with Severus when they asked her to come to Grimmauld since it had been so long. Suddenly reality came crashing down around her. She was still, officially, seeing Ronald Bilius Weasley and had absolutely no cause to be in bed with one Severus Snape, who still claimed not to want a relationship. And when she was with Ron and Harry, it was easy enough to slip back into the role she'd had since she was twelve, the third of the Trio, Harry's best friend and Ron's girlfriend, shutting out all thoughts of Severus from her mind. She did love Ron, truly. She did. It was just… Why was it so hard? Everyone thought they should get married and start a family and Hermione didn't want to hurt him that badly by breaking up. He'd been through so much, the war, Auror training and all that.

It was nice to see them again although she missed the Hogwarts dungeons. She chatted with Harry who was a bit withdrawn and moody, clearly shaken by whatever they had been up to which he couldn't talk to them about. He and Ginny had a few weeks off and were going to visit a few places in Wizarding Europe, including Paris, Granada in Spain, and Crete. Ginny was looking forward to the beach already but Harry seemed more keen on Paris since he'd never been outside Britain until only a few years ago.

She felt obliged to follow Ron up the stairs to his room. He was almost frantic with need, saying it had been too long, while she couldn't get her body to respond. Only by closing her eyes and retreating to memories of another's hands on her body did she manage to get wet enough for it not to hurt.

She spent a long time in the shower afterwards.

~o~o~o~o~o~

Iris came bearing a letter from Marit and Sofia one evening when she actually was at her flat. Hermione almost tried to hug her owl when reading the note, out of relief. She'd never had an easy time with friendships but perhaps one or more of these three may become long-distance friends, and now they were inviting her to Amsterdam.

"Thank you," she told her bird who eyed her a bit warily, clearly expecting another physical attack. "If you would rest here tonight you could perhaps take a note back in the morning to them? I'd love to meet up with them. Oh, I also need to send a note to Luna, would you be able to start with that?"

Iris hooted and held her leg out towards her, clearly wanting to go flying again, so Hermione penned a quick note to her other friend asking if she could pet-sit for a few days.

~o~o~o~o~o~

Amsterdam was great, and above all she didn't have to deal with Ron during that time. Healer Trout had been quick to grant her a few days off, and so she could arrive Wednesday evening and stay until Sunday. Marit and Sofia waited at the International Portkey station and caught her in a hug almost before Hermione saw them. The two witches shared a flat near their work, and Hermione could sleep in the spare room since their third roommate had finished her studies and moved out. It was surprisingly easy to get along with them. They chatted and laughed together as if they'd known each others for years, not just for a few days back in February. Lise-Mari arrived Friday evening. They went to all the pubs, tried all the Dutch food, stayed up way too long chatting, and she didn't feel guilty even once for being away from her research. The other girls talked a bit about boy troubles but Hermione evaded any questions, at a loss for what to say. Sofia was feeling the pressure academically since she was due to defend her thesis in September, but Marit was on a similar schedule as Hermione with a preliminary date next May. Lise-Mari would finish in January, having a slightly different process since she studied Healing.

Luna had bought fresh groceries for her when she returned, all peopled out. Crookshanks seemed moderately pleased to have her back, and Iris hooted reproachfully at her, apparently miffed that Hermione got to travel and not her. Later that week she met up with Luna for lunch. Apparently she was planning to relocate the Quibbler office to London since she didn't need to stay close to Neville anymore, and she was also planning a trip for most of August to look for magical creatures with her father.

She tried to meet up with Severus but their schedules didn't seem to match up since he was trying to publish two Potions books before the start of term, and Hermione did feel slightly guilty over having neglected her friends in June. She saw Ron and the twins at the Leaky for an after-work pub night with Ron's Auror friends, grateful for the fact that she could excuse herself early but still be seen to make an effort. The next time he wanted to meet up she blamed her period.

~o~o~o~o~o~

Bill and Fleur invited Ron and her to Shell Cottage for a few days towards the end of July. Ginny and Harry were still out touring Europe. Summer was still holding on, an unusual heatwave causing everyone to complain about the horrible heat and seek any excuse for ice cream and picnics in the parks. It felt odd to return to the small cottage for the first time since the War, however. She'd been freshly traumatised, badly hurt and half starved last time she stayed there, but Fleur coaxed her inside with gentle hands and a soft stream of words so that she could see all the changes they'd made since Victoire arrived.

She could see Fleur looking at her, at both of them. The beautiful blonde witch didn't say anything, however.

Ron was getting increasingly handsy. He kissed her whenever he could, and if he thought Bill and Fleur weren't looking his hand would creep up to her breast, or her arse, or the inside of her thighs. She told him to stop but it didn't help much.

At night, he crawled even closer to her in the bed they shared. "It's been two weeks, Hermione. Come on, a man's got needs, you know? Can't you just let me inside just a little? I'll be quick, I promise!"

"No we can't, Ron," she snapped. "Not here, in your brother's house. I'd die of shame! You know he's got werewolf influences, I'm sure his hearing is way too good now, and both of them would smell us out."

Ron huffed. "It doesn't matter, you're my girlfriend! They know that!"

"It matters to me. Do you want me to go sleep on the couch instead, or will you go?"

"Fine," he grumbled and turned away from her, his back rigid with anger.

She enjoyed strolling along the beach, both alone and with Fleur especially. They didn't talk much, only to Victoire if the child was with them. The sea was warm enough for her to remove her sandals and walk barefoot, enjoying the feel of wet sand and water over her feet.

The last day she was suddenly reminded of something when she was taking a shower, trying to wash some of the sand out of her hair. She quickly went back to fetch her beaded bag and went to seek out the older couple. Bill and Ron were in the kitchen, discussing some Auror techniques, while Fleur was playing with Victoire nearby.

"I tried a new salve for cursed scars, Bill, maybe you would like to test it? It really worked well on mine." She dug out the jar from her bag, she'd used most of it already and her scars were mostly faded to silver. Both elder Weasleys had seen the ones on her arm when they were fresh, after all. Fleur had done some Veela magic to seal it but it hadn't worked perfectly.

Bill was immediately interested. "I haven't found anything that could counter the werewolf stain. Why do you think this would help? What's different about it?

"It's a new recipe by Professor Snape, so you know it'll work. I'm sure he would help you if you write to him, Bill. Here, try some."

She held out the jar for him. He took it cautiously and sniffed it before passing it on to Fleur.

Ron frowned. "Why would you use anything he brewed? He's an evil git. And what scars, 'Mione? I thought you'd gone to the Healers ages ago for those nasty things?"

Fleur raised an impeccable eyebrow at her brother-in-law. Hermione blushed. "No, Ron, I hid them with Glamours. But now they're pretty much gone!"

She rolled up the sleeve of her loose shirt, to show the remainder of the scar. The M and part of the B were still a bit red but the other letters were barely discernible against her skin, at least where she hadn't tanned too much as they tended towards silver.

"Still nasty," Ron said with a frown.

Bill sighed at his brother. Fleur took out a small amount of salve, and rubbed it into her husband's cheek. He frowned and raised a hand to touch the area, but Fleur swatted it away.

"It tingles?" Bill said after a while.

"Good! That means the nerves are awakening!"

"Oh, Bill!" Fleur said, beaming a smile at both Hermione and her husband.

"You should write to him, tell him I gave you a sample, I'm sure he'll send you more! Oh, and perhaps something needs tweaking for werewolf bites, you could keep a log perhaps and let him publish the results?"

She didn't notice when Ron had slipped out of the room.

~o~o~o~o~o~

It had been over a month since they last met and she was going spare. She couldn't think, couldn't focus. She'd sent Iris off with a note early in the morning but wasn't sure he'd make it. When he finally rang the doorbell she practically flung herself at him even before he had a chance to enter her flat, causing him to chuckle and push her inside so he could close and ward the door.

All her stress and worries and guilt melted away. The world shrank to him, his scent, his touch. Somehow they made it into her bedroom. She removed his clothes with a charm, leaving him stark naked on her rug, his erection poking her stomach. He reciprocated and soon she was deposited on the bed, kissing him hungrily as if to make up for lost time. He trailed kisses down her body, driving her mad with need. She tangled her hands in his inky black hair, needing him faster, closer, more.

His mouth attached itself to her clit, causing her hips to buck up. He inserted a finger and then another, curving his fingers to find just the right spot by that had her go completely spare, and then started moving them. She groaned and gave herself over to his rhythm.

Gradually she noticed what his other hand was up to. Slowly he trailed a path along her thigh, inching towards her hamstrings. He coaxed her leg higher so that the sole of her foot rested on the mattress. Slow touches gradually drifted closer to her core but not quite meeting the other hand which still kept up the same rhythm.

She almost bucked off the mattress when she felt the tip of his finger touching the most intimate, forbidden area of her arse. He didn't relent, his bodyweight kept her in place while his mouth and other fingers drove her absolutely mad. Very very slowly he inserted a finger which he must have lubed up with a wandless charm.

"Ooooh!"

The feeling of his finger in her arse was completely unexpected and she'd never have imagined it to be so… good. It was as if he lit a sparkler in there which made everything else a thousand times more intense, too. He started moving that finger in sync with the other ones buried in her pussy.

Her orgasm was so strong she saw stars, overtaking her almost without warning.

"Beautiful," he whispered as he slowly withdrew from her.

"Need you, now." She reached for him, using both arms and legs to pull him up along her body.

"Gods, yes," he groaned.

He made her come again almost as soon as he sheathed himself in her, and after that she just clung to him, accepting his furious pace as an expression of his own needs. Just as he was about to break he managed to affix his lips to her nipple which caused her to shatter again, losing coherency and her sense of self in him while he rode out his own orgasm.

She felt utterly content, now that he was with her again. Now everything was alright. Clutching one of his hands in hers she drifted off to sleep.

The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes the next morning was his eyes. He lay on his side, watching her. She scooted closer to him, wrapping herself around him, her head on his shoulder.

"Good morning, sweet."

"And to you. Did you sleep well?"

He nodded and kissed her forehead.

A thought struck her, something he still hadn't shared.

"How is your neck?"

He raised an eyebrow at her but slowly he raised his own wand towards the area and muttered an incantation. Red welts stood out angrily against his skin, almost up to his jawline. The whole area looked slightly inflamed, still, and several puncture wounds could be seen. He lay down on his back again.

"Why do you keep it hidden, still?"

"At first it was due to the lingering pain," he muttered with his eyes closed. "Then, partly, habit. A part of the venom still lingers."

Cautiously she reached out towards him and gently traced some of the wounds with a finger. He flinched but allowed her touch. The edges were raised and hard to the touch.

She kissed his jaw. "Could I review your notes? I know you're brilliant but sometimes a second pair of eyes help, you know."

He nodded slowly. "Yes… perhaps you have a different perspective from your time at St Mungo's."