A/N: There have been many things holding me up. But I hope to finish relatively soon. As you can see, we are nearing the end of the 6th book and then we will wrap up with the Deathly Hallows. Reviews keep me going. If you've held on so for long, you must be a Hufflepuff :) Thank you. As a reward, this chapter is M.

Hermione and Severus worked on weekends to hone their skills in telepathic occlumency. Whenever her classmates would ask her what her plans were, she would hint at perfecting her potions. It wasn't much of a farce; her efforts really had gone awry under Slughorn's ill-begotten teaching. She wondered if she was the only one to notice that he was not the attentive teacher that Severus had been. Had everyone else been so blinded by superficial appearances? The jolly, old man himself never gave a second thought to her extracurricular pursuit of the subject. In fact, he had clasped her on the back to laud her admirable effort. She did have to admit she was getting better. Her time spent with the master of the craft was not only focusing on occlumency, after all. Their talks would often go to whatever was deemed appropriate for winning this war.

Snape noted it had been the opportune time for training since Dumbledore was distracting Potter with information on the remaining pieces of Voldemort's soul. Hermione herself was strangely thankful that Harry was away. Even stranger, she didn't mind the distractions Lavender offered Ron. She had grown a bit proud of his efforts with other women. In the face of the ever-changing world outside, Severus' quarters felt like a comforting shelter from the storm.

During breaks, over tea and the occasional biscuit, Snape would allow further discussions he had never considered having with any other student. No student had ever afforded him such openly trusting and intellectual conversation. It really was outside of the bounds of the classroom definition of a relationship. What was she? Friend? Confidant? …Lover? The flashes of passion that sparked between their minds and bodies had him guiltily denying more. Both were hesitant to take one step further. Yet, their daily lives were outside of the realms of a traditional student-teacher relationship. And both knew there was no going back if they passed the precipice. Strange how the thought of not going back bothered neither.

Another different student-teacher standard could be said of Snape's connection to Draco, whom he viewed as not a student but his godson. Hermione had been there with Severus after his toughest moments with the tormented youth. She had even offered off-handed comments to Draco in the halls, using the sarcastic Slytherin fashion to let him know she had seen the change. It would spark a strange light in the boy's eyes that would smother itself after several moments. Both Severus and Hermione's efforts were to no avail.

In these efforts, Severus viewed Hermione as much more of an adult than he could have ever expected from her seventeen years. And his perception scared him. If she had taken part in the pureblood tradition, as Voldermort often preached, she would have been arranged with a match at the age of sixteen and wedded before her eighteenth birthday. He thanked whatever gods that she was born into the muggle world. He couldn't bear to imagine her bedded by some of the elderly purebloods he had seen at the rituals. No, it was better not to dwell on those thoughts.

Severus couldn't pinpoint the moment that it happened, he often resisted examining the darker recesses of his mind. A part of him still fought against the realization. Yes, she was instrumental in this fight, but he did not view her in the way that Voldemort viewed Draco. She was so much more than a pawn, they all were. Yet, here they were traipsing about a chessboard. If only Draco would listen to him as Hermione had. Then they could all show that snake-faced demon that the world was not his plaything.

"Sir," Hermione looked up from her book by Snape's roaring fireplace at the end of a spring evening.

"Hm?" He looked up from the opposite chair as he sipped at his tea.

"What will you do after the war?"

"…After?" He put the cup down on the table as he felt the foreign word in his mouth. He had been living each day as it came. Severus stood and walked towards the vast enchanted window in his chambers. It allowed him to forget he'd been sentenced to the dungeons for most of his life. In the darkness of that night, he contemplated the waning moon and the silence of the grounds. "Nothing comes after."

"What?"

"There is no after. Not for me. I have seen this coming from the start." His voice was cold, "I'm surprised a bright witch like you hasn't."

"How can you say that?" Hermione's brow furrowed as she stood to join him. "If you've seen this from the start as you say, then you've got to have some sort of plan in motion, haven't you?" She grasped his cold palm with her trembling fingers, "That's what the stopper in death talk was for, right?"

"That talk was for your friend Potter," Snape bit out. "Dumbledore set me to that task as well, telling me that the boy was raised for slaughter but he didn't want him to die before the battle was won. IF he didn't obtain the Philosopher's Stone he needed to have a substitution: a failsafe."

She gave an affronted gasp, "How cruel!"

"Isn't it." Snape scoffed.

Hermione regained her composure, "No matter. It doesn't matter." His eyes were glazing over as if he were already dead and crossing the river Styx. She was losing him. "Severus," she spoke beseechingly as she placed her hands on either side of his face. Good, the use of his name had brought some light back to his eyes. They were beyond titles now, weren't they? Oh, Merlin, she hoped so. "You need to live."

"Why?" He searched her eyes. "What do I have to live for at the end of this war: Being ravaged by dementors in Azkaban? Once my vows of keeping obnoxious boys with egos too big for their bodies alive are complete, I've served my purpose."

"Your purpose?" Hermione squinted.

Snape bristled.

"I'm sorry," she moved her hands lower to rest on his shoulders, "but you really can't believe that's your life's purpose, can you? I mean, you're brilliant."

He stood a bit taller, puzzlement evident in his brow.

She continued, "I would say your potential has been wasted all these years, doing something you rather didn't want to do. But, you know, you've really accomplished something great. You're keeping us all safe. Severus," she gave her head a melancholy shake, "you deserve not to serve a purpose, you deserve not to serve anyone but yourself." She looked up at him with doe's eyes, "Don't you agree?"

It was then that his lips were upon her searching for the affirmation her words had afforded him. Yes, yes, he deserved it all for the misery his life had been, for the sacrifices he had made in the name of remorse and retribution. Yes, he deserved to not have to kill when his master bade it. He deserved not to bleed and cry and fuck and die on command. He deserved to walk in a world with a beautiful girl and watch her become the ravishing woman she was certain to be. But, damn it all, "Life isn't fair." He broke from the kiss. "It won't afford you all you want and desire. It won't even afford you what you need, Hermione."

"I don't care." Hermione affirmed, "I'm not waiting on life to give me what I need, I'm going to take it." She wrapped her hands around her Professor's collar and drew him close, her breath hot on his lips, "Severus, I need you." She kissed him gently, "I've needed you for so long," she trailed her mouth along his throat.

"Hermoine," His head lulled back momentarily before he grasped her shoulders.

"Don't you push me away Severus, not after all you've done, not after all I've seen. You want this. If life won't give it to you, let me give you what you want. Forget about the damned world for a moment." She looked up at him with wet eyes, "if there is no 'after this war,' let me have you while I still can."

He kissed her softly, sorrowfully, "If you'll let me have you."

"Yes, please, Severus," a tear escaped her eye, "please."

He swept her up then, her body light as a sparrow as he carried her to his bedroom. Another fire was crackling inside as he lay her on the bed. "Hermione," his deep vibrato echoed into her collarbone. "How would you prefer-?"

"No, Severus," He curls bounced, one catching in her coy smile, "with me you are free to do as you please, you'll hear no orders from me."

He kissed her gently, "With you I'm sure I wouldn't mind it." He kissed her again. "I believe I do have some inclination as to your tastes from our occlumency trials. You will tell me if it hurts."

That last part was not a question. Hermoine swallowed her nerves with a nod.

"Good. Do tell me how everything feels Miss Granger, this is one opportunity not to stifle your voice."

She playfully swatted at his shoulder, kneeling on the bed to kiss his taller frame standing beside it. As the kiss deepened, the fingers which had deftly cast spells and brewed thousands of potions were trailing under her sweater. They moved slowly, feeling each rib, putting her to memory behind closed eyes. There, his thumb creased the bottom of her bra. "I want to see you." His half-lidded eyes met hers. She blushed and did as he desired; first removing the sweater, then teasingly unbuttoning the white undershirt and removing her red and gold tie. She finally placed her feminine hands on her pale pink bra.

"Allow me." He gave her an admiring look.

She took his hands and led them over the hooks of her bra, which he unclasped with ease.

At his swift intake of breath, she thought him to be in pain, but his face was pleasured by the sight of her. "You're beautiful."

She blushed, "Yes, well, you may have seen a bit before. I like to think they're bigger now-"

"You're perfect." He kissed her, "My apologies for not cherishing you properly before. Something I hope to rectify now." His mouth was on her, kissing around her chest but not at the peak of her pebbled breasts. The wanting was driving a heat at the core of her. She moaned when he finally placed his tongue on her nipple, teasing gently. As he did so, his hands were at the back of her skirt, feeling her pert bottom and wrapping around the backs of her thighs to bring her closer to him. His fingers trailed from under her backside, back and forth to the front of her panties. His thumb pressed at her delicate pearl.

"Ah!" She moaned at the sensation. She had touched herself many times, and imagined this very scene on several occasions as well, but it was nothing compared to the real thing.

"Feel what you do to me, Hermoine," Snape stated as he gently moved her hand from his shoulder to the heat of his erection, now tenting his robes.

"Oh, Severus," she bit her lip. "Can I see?" She had never seen one before really. She'd seen awkward teenagers fumbling with erections but she'd never seen anything like this man. And the very thought of what was beneath that robe had her salivating for some reason.

Snape smiled at the hungry look in her eye. He started down the row of buttons slowly, sensuously; he could see the eager Miss Granger itching to uncover more of him. And he was willing to oblige. Soon, his slim physique was bare before her. "I believe you've seen a bit of me as well."

"Not like this. Oh, Severus…" Hermoine marveled simply at the way he defied gravity. He was thicker than four wands together, about half the length of the one she carried with her at all times. She didn't know if she could ever look at it the same way again. Coarse black hair began at his belly button and ended where his cock began. The tip of him was a pinkish red, already leaking with the pre-cum she had read about in physiology books. She crawled over on the bed, bringing her face close to the tip of him, examining him before looking into his eyes. He seemed to know what she wanted and nodded. She licked at him and heard the most beautiful noise escape his lips. She lapped at him again earning a groan and an involuntary thrust towards her.

With that, he grasped her shoulders and moved her further up the bed. "Allow me taste you as well." She smiled and pulled off her skirt and panties with ease. "Oh, Hermoine." He breathed, and all she could do was blush. He kissed the inside of her thighs as her back was propped against the headboard. She ran her fingers through his inkwell hair as he did so, finding it pleasant between her fingers. His lips at her juncture made her cup his head in surprise at the sensation. "Mm!" she murmured, "I- I've never…"

"It's okay Hermoine, does it feel good?"

"Really good."

His laughter vibrated against her pleasantly. "Good." He continued tasting her, one hand upon her stomach and the other gently tracing her folds. For once she had no questions in her mind as she focused on the sensation. That was, until he withdrew.

She was left panting, wanting release. Again he recognized her hungry eyes, and he felt it too. He drew a hand elegantly against his lips before kissing her. "I want to be inside of you."

Hermoine had wanted this more than anything. "Yes, please, take me Severus."

He made sure she was comfortable laying with her head on the pillow before aligning himself with her entrance. He took the opportunity to use her lubrication to grind himself against her clit so she could see what she was getting into. She reacted pleasantly, back arching for more and ready for penetration. He kissed her then, their tongues tasting one another and he pressed into her slowly. She moaned against his open mouth. He looked into her eyes for a moment and she nodded lazily. He took that for affirmation as he sheathed himself completely in her warmth. He groaned against her throat at the sensation.

"Hermoine, how does it feel?" He spoke after a moment.

"So good," she panted.

He smiled and kissed her, "I'm going to move now."

She simply nodded.

He kept a leisurely pace, using his thumb to knead her as he went in and out.

She moaned in time with his rhythm, "More, give it to me, more!"

He went at her harder, willing to give her more than she could ever ask for.

He sat her ontop of him then, to lick at her breasts as he moved within her.

She moaned, "Yes, like that!" and began grinding into him in earnest.

Her heat was devouring him, her walls beginning to tighten. "I'm not going to last, Hermoine." Snape groaned into her chest.

At that very moment, she exploded on top of him, stars behind her closed eyes as she cried out his name.

He was soon to follow, placing her onto her back as he finished thrusting into her, filling her with a satisfied grunt. She had never before seen the beauty of complete abandon on her Professor's face. She suffered a keen and unexpected loss when his stoicism returned.

They both recovered their breath in the crackle of the dying fire.