These drabbles are in response to a challenge by Droxy. The whole point is to learn to write concisely (who me?) by writing scenes with no more than one hundred words. This is a post-HBP fic.

I own nothing you recognize. I simply play in JKR's universe for stress relief.

Feelings

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Hermione followed Severus into the gazebo behind the house. There was a tablecloth over the wrought iron table, which held a place setting for two. He set the basket on the table and held out the chair for Hermione to sit.

Severus opened the basket and took out grapes, cheeses, sausage, water crackers, a loaf of bread, and other picnic foods. He opened and poured the wine.

Hermione sliced the pepperjack cheese, placed it on crackers, and put the plate between them to share. Severus filled a small plate with grapes and strawberries. Hermione bit a strawberry.

"This is delightful."

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Severus finished grinding the last ingredient to a powder, the smooth moves of the pestle against the mortar a reflection of years of practice. Hermione finished writing the labels.

Setting down the mortar and pestle, Severus reached back and rubbed his neck. Hermione moved behind him.

"Neck bothering you?" she asked.

He answered in a grunt.

Strong thumbs and gentle fingers worked into the muscles of his neck, massaging out the tension and knots.

The grunt turned into a soft moan of pleasure as he felt a tingle down his spine. He bowed his head to give her better access.

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He felt the warmth of her lips against the skin below his ear. It was exquisite. A shiver of pleasure ran through him. He had hoped, but had not believed it possible.

"Hermione," he whispered.

"I couldn't resist," she said softly, "It was so tempting, I had to…."

He closed his eyes, savoring the sensation as her lips moved slowly down his neck. She wanted to touch him. He could not remember when, if ever, any woman had wanted him in this way.

Severus never considered this possibility when he saw her walk into the conference room those months ago.

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Severus caught her hand and drew Hermione in front of him. He rose from the lab stool, towering over her. She met his eyes as his head dropped to hers. In those long moments before their lips touched, she put her arms around his neck and his arms snaked around her waist. They came together in an embrace that spoke of loneliness answered, understanding, and the beginnings of emotions neither had experienced before. No pretenses, no pretending, just the warmth of another human being who truly understood. If they both allowed it, they could find together what neither had alone.

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Hermione rolled over and propped her head on her hand, looking down at him. His eyes were closed and his expression was peaceful and relaxed. He opened one eye and looked at her warily. She smiled and reached over, drawing her index finger down the length of his nose.

"It's time for confessions," she teased, "What happened to your nose?"

"I allowed Poppy Pomfrey to repair it before leaving. It had been broken several times and I had a deviated septum. It had been so long since anyone saw it without the bumps; I thought it made a good disguise.

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"Between the haircut and the change in your nose, I wasn't certain at first glance. The height was right and the way you carry yourself certainly matched up," smiled Hermione, "But, your voice gave it away completely."

"My voice?" answered Severus, looking puzzled.

"You really have no idea, do you?" she said, resting her head against his shoulder. "You have a voice that sounds like expensive black velvet feels."

"I am uncertain of what that means, but I assume this is a good thing?" he said as he kissed her forehead.

"Keep talking and you may very well find out,"

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He kept talking and found out exactly what his voice could do to her. Afterward, they were sweaty, sated, and very content. The breeze blew the drapes away from the open window and cooled their skin as they rested in each other's arms. Hermione reached down and drew the sheet over them. Before long, the only sound in the room was their breathing as it slowed into the depths of sleep.

Late in the night, they shifted positions until he lay close against her back. His arm lay across her waist, holding her against him. Sleep was peaceful and deep.

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The light coming in through the window woke him first. For once, Severus was grateful that it was Saturday and he did not have to work. He could not recall ever feeling so content as he did in this moment, spooned against Hermione's lovely backside. There was a part of him actively expressing a hope for a repeat of the activities from the night before. Hermione shifted a bit, wiggling the bare skin of that lovely backside against the hopeful part of him. It didn't take a whole lot of encouragement for two sets of hands to begin to roam.

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"We really have to go back to work tomorrow?" Hermione whined into his shoulder.

"It would raise suspicions if we both called in sick," murmured Severus, "given the number of our coworkers who have seen us together."

"Screw our coworkers," she grumbled into his shoulder.

"Technically," he continued, "as your boss, I would have to give you a written warning for an unexcused absence."

"Screw the boss," she said, giggling into his shoulder.

"My sentiments, exactly," said Severus as he began to chuckle into her hair.

Hermione laughed as she rolled on top of him.

"Your wish is my command."

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To be continued