The Ring

by Ms-Figg

Snape saves Hermione's life by giving her his ring. He also gives her something else unexpected. When Severus is presumed dead, Hermione fulfills his last wish. Alternate Universe, New History, Action, Adventure, Supernatural, OC Incest, MF, Lemons

3. Final Chapter

The Ring Final Chapter

Hermione stopped as she passed through the doors, then returned to her pack outside and retrieved her flashlight. She again passed through the doors, Raucous on her shoulder. The open entrance allowed some light to enter into the tomb. The air was stale, though fresh air was entering slowly. Hermione felt a sense of disquiet as she entered the tomb. The main chamber was circular, and opposite the entryway there were doors carved into the bedrock that led to tunnels that wound throughout the mountain forming a great labyrinth. To the right was a chamber that contained stone benches and a large stone table. The tattered remains of cushions rested on the benches. The walls themselves had strange writing all over them, and images similar to hieroglyphics. Serpents were featured prominently in the drawings, many with wings.

In the center of the chamber was a raised circular dais of stone. Carved into the sides of it were images of serpents and skulls. It was to this dais and the object that floated freely above it that Hermione's eyes were drawn. At first it appeared to be a glowing blue orb, the same hue as the blue light that emitted from the ring. Hermione drew closer and saw it wasn't an orb, but a multifaceted blue crystal. She could feel waves of powerful energy flowing off it, and began to back away when the box in her hand gave a furious pulse and seemed to pull toward the crystal.

Raucous felt the pulse of power and flew from Hermione's shoulder. He glided to the chamber room and stood on one of the stone benches, observing her silently, his beady eyes fixed on the box in her hand.

Hermione drew the box back to test if it was indeed moving toward the crystal. It was. Hermione inched forward and placed the box on the dais. The moment she let it go, the pulsating box slid by itself across the stone and centered itself beneath the glowing gem.

In the void, Snape was watching the scene unfold before him, Hermione standing before the dais colored blue by the crystal, watching the black box pulsing beneath the gem. It wouldn't be long now. His heart was pounding and the Potions Master was beginning to feel a powerful pressure around his body.

Hermione stared at the box pulsing beneath the crystal. Suddenly the ring heated up, and a beam of blue light shot from it, hitting the onyx box. The cube began to ripple and flow, the corners melting into smoothness, the top hollowing out, revealing something pale in the interior. Hermione watched as the box became a small bowl containing what looked like ash. The ring's beam ceased, and the band pulsed on her finger tightly, hurting her. She looked down at it, and the "S" shaped stone twisted open, revealing a small cavity behind it. Inside the cavity was a crimson liquid. Hermione carefully raised the ring to her nose, and smelled the slight metallic scent of fresh blood.

"Pour the blood on the ashes, Hermione," Snape breathed, watching the witch. She was smart enough to figure this out. "The blood is the life, pour it on the ashes. The ashes, Hermione."

The ashes.

Hermione looked around sharply. She had distinctly heard a silken voice say "the ashes." It sounded like the Professor's voice. Hermione looked at the blood inside the ring and made the connection. She carefully removed the ring and leaned over the dais, reaching for the bowl. She tipped the ring so the few precious drops of blood fell directly on the ash. Suddenly the ring flew out of her hand and rotated over the bowl beneath the crystal. Hermione watched as a stream of light no wider than a finger passed from the bottom of the gem, through the ring and into the bowl of ash and blood. A low hum began as the light connected with the ash.

Snape felt a tremor pass through him, then a great burning pain washed over him, golden light erupting from his body. The Potions Master writhed and screamed in agony, his voice echoing through the void impossibly loud, shaking the stars from the sky. They began to fall, streaking downward as he contorted, spinning in place as the golden flames flared outward. The spell he had cast to kill himself and Voldemort was reversing. Whereas he had felt little pain when he died, because it was a quick burst that reduced him instantly to ash, he now experienced the full force of the spell. Snape was dimly aware through his haze of pain of a powerful downward pull, the space around him fading to grayness as he fell like a blazing star himself.

Hermione watched as the bowl and the ring both lifted and floated past her, then settled on the stone floor before the dais, pulsing. She heard a great roar and looked upward, covering her ears against the noise and watched fascinated as a swirling mist appeared above the objects. It spun faster and faster, flattening into a disk. A dot of darkness appeared in the center and slowly spread. Hermione realized the dot was actually a hole that was opening wider and wider until the disk was gone and all the remained was an opening, floating in space. She could see what looked like falling stars as she looked up into the rift. Suddenly a streak of golden light fell through the hole, funneling through the ring and into the bowl of ash. Once again the bowl began to undulate, shifting shape, this time the gray ash forming a cylinder that expanded into a tall, thin, pale column, the blackness of the bowl flowing upward with partially covering it.

The column widened, then split partially up its length. Two tendrils erupted from the sides of it. The blackness of the bowl immediately covered these extremities, and flowed partially over the top of the column, which was quickly swelling like a balloon. Hermione thought it looked like a stick figure. Then she realized that the extremities were becoming defined, the ends of the tendrils splitting into five digits, the balloonish top developing angles, indentations and a large protuberance in the center. The black covering was separating into parts, the top becoming silken strands, long and flowing, the bottom staying in one piece, also long and flowing.

Hermione watched as the column transformed into the figure and visage of someone very familiar, someone she never dreamed she'd see in life again. The face was well defined now, the black hair flowing to the shoulders. A black robe draped the body, pale hands hanging loosely by its sides. The face was relaxed, the eyes closed. The hole above collapsed upon itself and disappeared, leaving Severus Snape standing in its wake.

Hermione stared at the reformed body of the Potions Master. The wizard stood there, his eyes closed. He was still as a statue, stiff and unmoving. Hermione took a cautious step toward him. Was this really Professor Snape or some kind of construct…maybe a golem?

"Professor?" she called to him, staying just out of arm's reach. He didn't respond.

"Professor!" she called louder. There was still no response, no sign of life. He was very pale…paler than usual. Actually, he looked dead on his feet.

Hermione took a deep breath and walked up to him, touching his hand. It was cold as ice. There was no life in the body. Hermione realized that what she had dreamed was actually the truth. That she had been sent to resurrect Severus, but it seemed although she brought his body back, she had not retrieved his soul. Her amber eyes filled with tears. She had come so close. Her lip trembled. She drew closer.

"I'm so sorry, Professor," she breathed, tears starting to fall. She almost had him, almost brought him back. "I've failed you." Hermione stood on her tiptoes and kissed the cold, pale cheek.

Suddenly the Professor gasped loudly, drawing air into his lungs, his gray, cold skin taking on color. Hermione gave a little shriek and stumbled back from him as his stiff body relaxed somewhat and his dark eyes opened. He was breathing heavily as if trying to draw in as much air as possible. Snape bent over slightly, placing his hands on his knees as he panted. He turned his head to look at her, still gasping slightly. Hermione noticed that the ring now rested on his finger.

"Well Miss Granger," he panted, "I knew your kiss had an arousing effect on me. I just didn't realize how much."

Hermione just stared at him, her mouth open. She was too stunned to speak.

Snape straightened and felt himself all over.

"I seem to be all here," he stated, his black eyes fixed on the witch.

He took a step toward her, and Hermione backed away from him as if he were a ghost. She was used to ghosts, but this was a bit much. This was a walking dead man. That was far more unnatural than a ghost.

Snape stopped, and scowled at her.

"Miss Granger, after all I've been through, this is not the reception I hoped to receive from you upon returning to the world of the living. Close your mouth. You look like a fish," he said snarkily.

Hermione relaxed a bit upon hearing this. It was the Professor all right.

Raucous let out a joyous caw and flew to the Professor's shoulder, preening his hair frantically between squawks.

"Hello, Raucous," the Professor said, reaching up to stroke the bird's feathers.

If Hermione had any doubts as to the reality of the wizard in front of her, Raucous' reaction dispelled them. The bird would know its former Master anywhere. She found her voice.

"Professor. How?" she asked him. "How did you manage this? No one comes back from the dead."

He looked at her and realized he had fallen back into the habit of addressing her formally. That wouldn't do...not after the intimacy they had shared. He corrected himself.

"Yes, that's true Hermione, but I wasn't dead. My life was in the blood, and sustained by the power of the ring. It acted as a stasis spell, suspending time and not allowing the blood to die as long as it was concealed inside the hollow. It kept me grounded to the corporeal world. As long as part of me lived, there was hope I could return."

He pointed at the glowing crystal.

"That," he said, "Is a crystal from the land of Atlantis. It has the ability to restore any item placed under it to its original state, providing that it was functioning properly when it was destroyed. It cannot bring the dead back to life under normal circumstances, because the spirit of life is usually fully departed. When you added my living blood to the ash of my body, you gave it the component it needed to restore me. My ancestor placed the gem here in the tomb when it became a source of feuding and bloodshed between the families. The only one who could access the tomb and the crystal was a Snape wearing the ring."

Hermione looked at him.

"But I'm not a Snape," said Hermione, leveling her amber eyes at him steadily. She couldn't believe he was really here. "Why did the ring work for me?"

The Professor smirked at her.

"The ring is an amazing instrument. It doesn't operate in the realm of linear time. Past, present and future are all one to it," he said obliquely.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Talk sense, Professor," Hermione said, scowling at him.

Snape looked at her, his dark eyes intense as they swept over her. Hermione felt a small burst of warmth in her belly at the way his eyes seemed to devour her. The wizard met her gaze.

"What I am trying to say Hermione, is that while you aren't a Snape presently…you will be," he said, a low, rather possessive growl in his voice.

---

Hermione stared at the wizard, her mouth dropping open again.

"Me? A Snape?" she said, her voice sounding odd to her own ears.

"You. A Snape. My wife to be exact," Snape replied.

"But…but…" Hermione stammered. The wizard stepped closer to her and placed one finger on her lips to quiet her. His voice was low.

"It is already established, Hermione. The ring is infallible when it comes to Snapes. You will marry me," the Potions Master said with finality. As far as he was concerned it was a done deal.

"But, suppose I don't want to marry you?" Hermione asked him, feeling a bit defiant at the Professor's claim. He had some nerve being so confident that she would accept his name.

Snape looked at her, his eyes glittering.

"After I get you into my bed Hermione, I guarantee you won't want any other wizard but me," he breathed.

Hermione, still trying to maintain control over her destiny despite the growing wetness between her thighs, started to say something else, something that wasn't true. Snape stopped her.

"I warn you, Hermione…be careful what comes out of that lovely little mouth of yours. If you try to deny that you want me, I will be forced to prove that you do. As much as I want to bury myself in your delicious body and show you exactly how much I desire you, I would prefer to deflower you in my bed back at Hogwarts in a more respectful and reverent manner, rather than taking you up against the wall of a dusty tomb in an uncontrollable burst of animal lust. So if you were about to deny your feelings for me…don't."

The Professor looked at her hungrily, his pale face set, half wanting her to go ahead and say she didn't desire him. He could see the need in her eyes already. Being back in a physical body was heady. He could almost feel the blood circulating through his veins. He was definitely feeling it flowing into his member. Taking her would be very satisfying.

Hermione saw the look in Snape's eyes and knew he meant what he said. If he even touched her, she would lose it. She wouldn't be able to stop. As much as she wanted to experience his passion, she really didn't want her first time to be in a tomb. So she swallowed down the denial she was about to spout and instead said softly, "All right, Professor…I won't."

She thought he looked a bit disappointed. She decided it would be best to get off this topic.

"Everyone will be so happy to see you, Professor," she said brightly.

Snape arched an eyebrow at her.

"So I take it my reported death has succeeded in turning my rather detestable memory into a kinder, more lovable wizard in the eyes of the wizarding world?" he said to her sarcastically. "Only such an inane and erroneous perception would make anyone happy to see me."

Hermione blanched a little. The fact was the loss of the Professor was only mourned by a handful of people. Albus, Minerva, Flitwick and a few Order members like Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks. Remus had also expressed sorrow. Ronald Weasley would have gladly danced on the Professor's grave, if he had one.

"Well, maybe not everyone, Professor. But no one is aware of what you've done for the wizarding world when you killed Voldemort. Once they know that…" she began.

"I will be deluged by well-wishers and simpering Ministry officials. The media won't leave me alone, and I won't be able to move about freely in public or have a private life. I don't think so, Hermione. Only a select few will know what I've done. I am a free wizard now. I don't want to be curtailed by becoming a public figure," Snape said.

"But Professor, you're a hero! You've single-handedly removed the most dangerous wizard in existence from the face of the earth. People should know this. You should be rewarded for your service," she breathed looking up at him. Snape gave her a grim little smile.

"You are the only reward I want, Hermione," he said. "I would not be adverse to you showing me your 'appreciation' for my heroic deeds. As for everyone else…the hell with them. Let the death of Voldemort remain a mystery."

Hermione looked at the Professor. He was such a brave wizard. A hero. She remembered him charging through the final battle with his sword in his hand, covered in blood. The Professor could have used just his magic to fight, it was certainly sufficient, but he chose to use a sword to bring himself into close contact and commit physical violence against the enemy. In addition to being a brilliant man, he was dangerous, dark and bloodthirsty. But he had shown her another side of him, one she was sure not many knew about. His hot-blooded, passionate side. Standing here black-robed, black-eyed, and black-haired, staring down at her, the Professor just reeked masculinity, maleness, power and sex, sex, sex. Hermione had to admit that knowing the wizard that rid the world of Voldemort wanted her was a very big turn on. And he didn't want her as a passing pleasure. He wanted her forever.

Gods, she was back to this again.

Snape watched Hermione closely, drinking in the way the witch's eyes expressed her emotions. He would love looking into those amber orbs when he finally took her. They were like twin suns when she was aroused, glowing with an inner fire. He wanted to see them widen, then go half-lidded with pleasure as they did last night when he gave Hermione the release she craved. But oh, it would be so much more when he could have her properly. Suddenly, he felt the overpowering urge to leave this place and return to England.

"Hermione, we can leave now. Go back to Hogwarts," he said, taking her hands and looking into her eyes meaningfully. Hermione understood. They could go back and finish what they had started in the realm of her dreams.

Raucous cawed happily. He was ready to go back home. He had enough of unicorns, hawks, wolves, snakes and whatever else this damned island held. All he wanted was his perch and three squares a day from his mistress. He was happy to see Snape, but Hermione had his heart now. He would never leave her.

"Yesss," Hermione breathed looking into his dark eyes and almost falling into them…then. "No, no I can't go back yet."

Snape scowled. "Why? You've done what you came to do," he said, clearly irritated by the possibility of a delay.

"I have to go see Peter and let him know I am all right," she said.

Peter? Who the hell was Peter? Snape's scowl darkened. Was she talking about seeing another wizard?

"Who is Peter?" he demanded, his soft voice sharp with possessiveness. Hermione heard the inflection and grinned at him.

"Not your competition, Professor," she said, now breaking out into a smile as the Potions Master relaxed at this statement. He certainly was jealous. "Peter is a seven year old boy, the son of Petra, the innkeeper, " she said.

Snape raised his eyebrow. She had only been in the village a couple of days. How did she manage to form such an attachment?

"Surely the boy will be all right, Hermione. I am anxious to get back," he pressed. Hermione's jaw set stubbornly.

"No. I promised him I would let him know I was all right. That the mountain didn't get me. We have to go to the village before we leave here," she stated firmly.

Snape's eyes swept over her. The witch's body language showed she would not be moved on this. She would be livid if he just took her to Hogwarts anyway, and that could result in her giving him a very hard time about deflowering her. He would eventually persuade her, he was sure, but he would rather have her current cooperation and willingness, rather than having to chase her and court her all over again.

"Very well," he conceded, "Come, we will go to the village and you can say your goodbyes."

Holding her hand firmly, Snape led the witch out of the tomb. He released her and turned toward the great open doors. He extended his hands and the heavy doors slowly swing shut. A loud clanking sound followed, ending with a heavy thump. The Professor turned and looked toward the Manor, the ancestral home of his people. If he chose, he could take it over and become its Lord. He was the holder of the ring after all. But he had no desire to live in the land of Mu, where an entire village of people, rather than a few dunderheaded students would fear him.

"Thinking about paying your relatives a visit, Professor?" Hermione asked him, also looking toward the Manor. She wouldn't mind seeing what they looked like.

The Professor was silent for a moment.

Finally he said, "No, Hermione. I won't intrude on them," he said shortly, "Let them continue in the way they are accustomed to." He looked at her as she hoisted her backpack on.

"It will take us about two days to make it back down the mountain. I have about one day's worth of jerky left. If we eat sparingly…" Hermione began, faltering as she saw the way Snape's eyes narrowed.

Snape looked at her as if she were insane.

"Hermione, I have no intention of hiking down this mountain and facing unicorns and gods know what else," he said, "We will apparate to the village."

Hermione looked at him. She had been doing without magic for so long, she didn't even think about his ability to apparate.

"Oh," she said softly, feeling like an idiot.

The Professor sighed and opened his arms. Hermione stepped into them. Raucous, who had been on Snape's shoulder the entire time, jumped to Hermione's and looked at the Professor expectantly. The Potions Master pulled Hermione tight against him, enjoying the feeling of her breasts mashing into him. Hermione looked up at him rather shyly, then gasped as he throbbed against her belly. Snape wasn't the least bit apologetic.

"I told you that you have an arousing effect on me, Hermione," he said, kissing her on her forehead. He didn't dare kiss her on the mouth. He wouldn't be able to stop if he started. He sighed again, a bit of frustration beneath it.

"Let's go to the village and get this out of the way quickly," the Professor growled at her, his black eyes glinting. "We have pressing business to attend to at Hogwarts."

Pulling Hermione even tighter against him, they disapparated.

---

Ozmadias shifted his footing with interest as two people emerged from the tomb. He knew in an instant that the wizard was one of the Snape family. He couldn't be anything else with his dark, silky hair, black eyes and pale skin. And that nose. Typical Snape nose, though his was rather large even by Snape standards. He watched as the wizard sealed the door and looked up at the Manor.

If he returned, there would be another shift of power. But instead, the wizard embraced the witch and disapparated, thunder echoing in their wake. Well, they were gone, and Ozmadias was officially free of spying. Thank the gods.

The great bird leapt off the mountainside and flapped strongly toward the Manor to share what he saw with the Mistress. Things would finally return to normal.

---

Snape, Hermione and Raucous apparated into the center of town, directly in front of the inn, startling passerbys with their sudden appearance. If the group's sudden arrival stopped the people of the village in their tracks, it was nothing compared to seeing a Snape in their village. No one had seen a Snape in the flesh in over a generation. The Lemurians gaped and whispered to one another, children hiding behind their mothers, mothers hiding behind their fathers, all peering at the tall, pale, black-robed wizard in their midst. Snape looked around rather majestically, his face neutral as he studied the people who studied him. Hermione looked at the gaping Lemurians, her brow furrowed.

"Why are they all staring at us?" Hermione whispered to the Potions Master.

"I'm a Snape, Hermione. One of the descendents of the original overlords who oppressed these people and treated them as little more than slaves. I imagine parents here tell children stories about us to make them behave. Something along the lines of 'the Snapes will get you if you don't watch out.' So, I am sort of the boogeyman incarnate," he said, smirking.

Hermione scowled at him.

"You act like you like being perceived as some kind of monster," she hissed at him as her amber eyes swept around the town.

"I do," he replied, striding forward toward the inn.

Hermione followed, Raucous clinging to her shoulder, squawking at the villagers and fluttering his wings rather threateningly, basking in the terror that was his former master.

Severus walked through the inn door. Petra was behind the counter, looking over her guest book. She saw a shadow fall across the floor and looked up with her best "welcome to my inn" smile, and froze in place as Snape stopped in front of the counter and looked down at her imperiously. Petra's smile faded, and fear filled her brown eyes.

Hermione followed Snape in and saw him standing at the counter terrorizing the innkeeper. She walked up and pushed his shoulder, frowning at him.

"You stop frightening Petra this instant, Professor!" she scolded.

The Professor's eyes twisted slowly towards Hermione, glinting with dark pleasure. He silently walked to one of the tables, drew out a chair and sat down. Petra's eyes followed the tall, dark wizard until he sat down, then shifted back to Hermione.

"You…you brought a Snape to the village? Hermione…this is not done. There hasn't been a Snape here in over a generation. What if he destroys our village?" she whispered at the witch.

Hermione smirked at this. The Professor might look frightening to them, but he would no sooner destroy their village than put on a tutu and dance down the main street.

"He's harmless, Petra. He only wants to leave Mu. He is the reason I went up the mountain," Hermione said to the innkeeper, who was staring at Snape. Petra looked at her openmouthed.

"This is the dead wizard you told me about?" she gasped, "How did you…did he…?"

"He wasn't quite as dead as I supposed. I resurrected him using a crystal," Hermione said.

Petra made some kind of sign over her breast at this revelation.

"You used the 'terrible crystal' to revive him? Great gods," Petra said, the horror in her eyes renewed as she looked at the Professor. At that instant, Peter walked out from the back of the inn. His eyes fell on Hermione and his entire face lit up.

"Hermione! You live!" he cried, running towards her. Then he skidded to a stop as his brown eyes fell on the Professor, who was looking at the boy with interest. Peter's eyes swept over the Professor. He didn't blanch however, and puffed out his chest bravely. Snape's eyes twinkled a bit at the little boy's courage.

"You're a Snape, aren't you?" the boy asked boldly.

"Peter!" Petra cried, horrified at her son's forwardness. The Snape might blast her boy. "Come away from him!"

The Professor looked at Petra.

"I won't hurt the boy," he said in perfect Lemurian.

Petra fell silent, but wrung her hands nervously as Snape turned back to the boy.

"Yes, I am one of the Snapes," he replied. "My name is Severus. And I suppose you are Peter."

"Yes, I am Peter. How do you know my name?" the boy asked, walking up to the table and standing opposite the Potions Master, showing no fear.

"I know it because Hermione told me we couldn't leave the island until she came to see you. You held me up," Snape replied, scowling a little at the boy with no effect.

"Well, she promised to come see me when she came down from the mountain," the boy said stubbornly. "That was before she saw you. So I come first." The child sounded a tad possessive. Snape fought back a grin as Petra looked as if she were about to faint.

"Yes, you come first," Snape agreed, looking at the boy somberly before gesturing toward Hermione, who was watching them interact, a smile on her face. She had never seen Snape interact with a child outside of Hogwarts.

"Well, there she is if you want to see her so badly. As you can tell, she is all in one piece," Snape said to the boy, one eyebrow arched.

Peter studied the Potions Master's face for a moment.

"You're not scary," the boy commented. Snape scowled at him blackly.

"I'm not, eh?" Snape said, relaxing his scowl a little.

"No. You look different, and you make mean faces. But you're not scary. You wouldn't hurt anybody without a reason. I can tell. Plus Hermione wouldn't have brought you back here if you were like that," Peter said, his eyes meeting the Professor's levelly. His mother was about to have conniptions.

"You are correct about that, Peter. I wouldn't hurt anyone without a reason," Snape agreed, "You are a very perceptive young lad. You don't let anyone make up your mind for you. That's quite commendable," Snape replied, giving the boy a small grin.

"Mama always told me not to believe everything I hear. She said I should try to find the truth out for myself," Peter said, looking at his mother proudly. Petra looked a little ashamed. Her own advice had come back to her full circle.

"Your mother is a very wise woman," Snape replied. Now Petra felt really bad. She walked from around the counter.

"May I bring you something to eat, Lord Snape?" she asked, curtseying.

Snape's black eyes fell on the stout witch.

"Yes, Petra. Some food would be excellent," he replied, giving her a slight smile. "But you do not have to address me as 'Lord' or curtsey. I am no overlord of Mu. Professor will be fine."

"Yes sir," Petra said, fighting the urge to curtsey again. Showing deference to Snapes was ingrained in her blood. "I will be back with some fish stew."

She bustled off to the kitchen to prepare the wizard some food.

Peter ran to Hermione and embraced her tightly around the waist.

"You came back!" he said, looking up at her, his brown eyes shining with gladness. Hermione stroked his hair.

"I told you I would," she said softly, leaning down and kissing him on his forehead.

Snape watched her interact with the boy, his eyes hooded. She would make a good mother.

Peter turned to Snape.

"You went to get him, didn't you?" he asked her, looking at the wizard, who stared back at him.

"Yes, I did. But I didn't know that was what I had to do," Hermione replied.

"Oh," Peter said, processing this. "I bet you were surprised."

"Yes. Yes I was Peter," she said, her eyes meeting the Professor's. Snape's eyes glinted at her hotly. Peter caught it.

"He likes you," the boy whispered. "Do you like him back?"

Hermione nodded. Peter scrutinized the Potions Master again before turning back to Hermione.

"I guess he's all right. He won't let anything bad happen to you," the boy said sagely.

"No, I don't think he will," Hermione replied softly.

The Professor had already proven that when he rescued her at the final battle. He had killed to protect her. She gave Snape a rather tender look, one that made the dark wizard's chest clutch. Gods he couldn't wait to get her alone and have her look at him like that again.

"Hermione, what happened on the mountain? Anything scary?" Peter asked her excitedly as Hermione slipped off her pack and set it on the floor. Raucous flew to the table Snape was sitting at and perched on the back of the chair across from him. He cocked his head at the Potions Master.

"So Raucous, I take it you and Hermione have ironed out your differences," Snape said to the bird in a low voice. Raucous cawed in the affirmative. "I guess you see now why I am attracted to her," the Potions Master said. Raucous eyed Hermione for a moment, then turned back to Snape and let out a noise that sounded very similar to a wolf whistle. Snape fought back a laugh.

"That is stating the obvious, Raucous. But she is also beautiful inside, don't you agree?" Snape asked him. Raucous nodded. "She'll make a fine wife," he said, looking over at the witch as she regaled Peter with tales of her adventures on the mountain. The boy was exclaiming and jumping about with excitement as she told him about the unicorns, the wolves, the wizards, the giant snake and almost being crushed by a boulder.

"Raucous! You're a hero!" Peter called over to the bird, who fluffed up his feathers proudly, before flying over to Hermione's shoulder, so he could better be heaped with the small boy's praises.

Petra returned from the kitchen, with three bowls of fish stew. She set them on the table.

"Here you go, Professor. On the house," she smiled at him.

"Thank you," he said, spooning a bit of the hot stew into his mouth. He chewed, then a look of pleasure spread across his face. He looked at Petra, who was watching him nervously.

"Madam, I must say that this is the best fish stew I have ever tasted," he said sincerely. "My deepest compliments to the chef."

Petra flushed with pleasure at receiving a compliment on her cooking from a Snape.

"Thank you, Professor," she gushed. Then her voice grew stern. "Hermione! Raucous! Come over here and eat something good for you. Three days of eating dried beef and jerky must have made you weak. Come, now! Peter let Hermione come eat," she chided.

Raucous flew over to the table and immediately moved to the bowl with the most stew in it. Hermione walked over and took the smaller bowl. Before Raucous could dive in, Snape reached across the table and switched his bowl with Hermione's. The bird squawked at him in irritation.

"You knew that bowl was Hermione's," Snape said to him. "That will fill you up good enough."

Raucous rolled his eyes at the Potions Master, but no one could tell because he had no whites to show the motion. He set about eating, picking out a juicy shrimp and swallowing it down. He squawked appreciatively at Petra.

"Why, thank you Raucous," the innkeeper replied, stroking his glossy feathers.

Hermione tucked in. Petra already knew how she felt about her cooking.

Petra watched them eat, occasionally catching the Potions Master looking at Hermione in an unmistakable way. She smiled to herself. Her initial thoughts that the wizard meant more to Hermione than the witch was letting on were confirmed. And by the way he was looking at her, he meant to possess her soon. Petra let her eyes sweep over the dark wizard. He wasn't an overly handsome man, but he was still attractive. He radiated strength and power. A bit of danger too. Quite a delicious combination. She suspected Hermione would be very happy with him. Soon they finished their meal.

"Would you like to go to your room to freshen up a bit, Hermione?" Petra asked her, producing her room key.

Before Hermione could reply, Snape said, "No. We will be leaving Mu immediately. We have much to do when we return to Hogwarts. He looked at Hermione intensely. The witch blushed. Petra grinned. The wizard was anxious to get the witch alone.

"I see," Petra replied, smiling broadly at the embarrassed Hermione as Snape rose, walked over and pulled the witch's chair out, helping her to her feet solicitously, before walking over to her backpack, picking it up and placing it on his own shoulders.

Hermione looked at him.

"I don't want anything slowing you down," he said shortly.

He said goodbye to Petra and Peter, then exited the inn. Hermione looked at the witch.

"I'm glad I met you and Peter, Petra," she said, hugging the innkeeper. Both witches' eyes were glistening. "Thank you for everything."

Petra nodded, unable to speak. She knew she would never see Hermione again.

Hermione turned to Peter and opened her arms. The little boy hugged her tightly.

"You take care of your mother and attend to your studies," Hermione said to him, ruffling his hair.

"I will, Hermione," Peter said, his little voice choking a bit. He liked the witch, even though she didn't have magic. He wished she could stay.

"Will you come back?" he asked her hopefully. Hermione looked at him and thought the truth would be best.

"No, Peter. I won't be coming back. I have my own life to live in England," she said softly.

"Ok," the boy said, "Have a nice life with the Professor."

Hermione looked at him, stunned for a moment. The boy was certainly perceptive.

"I will, Peter," she said, kissing him on the forehead and exiting the inn. Snape was standing in the middle of the street, Raucous on his shoulder, being ogled by the townspeople. He opened his arms to Hermione.

"Let's go home," he said as she moved into his arms, and he held her tightly. He looked down at the ring, which had begun to glow.

"Portis," he said.

The group disappeared, leaving the startled villagers gaping at the empty spot they left behind.

Petra and Peter were standing in the inn doorway when they departed, Peter's small arm around his mother's waist, while her arm rested on his shoulders. Peter looked up at her.

"Do you think they'll be happy, mama?" he asked the witch.

Petra looked down at him.

"Oh yes, Peter. Some people in this world are born to be together. The Professor and Hermione are two such people," she replied, smiling at him. Peter smiled back.

"I'm glad," he said simply.

Both mother and son turned and walked slowly back into the inn.

A Snape in the village. What a wonder that had been. People would talk about it for years to come.

---

Hermione, Snape and Raucous appeared in front of the main gates of Hogwarts. It was late in the evening. Probably about eight o'clock or so. Not many people would be about so close to curfew. A full moon shined down, illuminating the school grounds. The Professor released Hermione and drew in a deep, cleansing breath. He was home. Home. His pale hand touched the gates, tracing the bars. Hermione thought she saw a bit of wetness in his eyes.

"It's nice to be back, isn't it, Professor?" she asked him softly.

Snape's eyes drank in the sight of the landscape stretching beyond the gate.

"Yes. Yes it is, Hermione," he replied. Then he unwarded the gate and pushed it open, gesturing for Hermione to enter. He followed her in, closed the gate and re-warded it. Raucous took off, flying towards the castle, cawing happily.

The couple started across the grounds at a good clip, Snape taking long strides and Hermione hurrying to keep up with him. She didn't complain, however. Obviously, the wizard was happy and anxious to get to the castle.

Snape was. He hadn't realized just how much he missed Hogwarts, and even his students. They irritated him to no end, but they were his pupils, the enlarging of their minds entrusted to him. If they managed to hold on to one thought, one new idea when they left him at the end of the year, he had made a difference. He realized just how rewarding that was.

He also found he looked forward to seeing Albus and McGonagal. Most of all, he was looking forward to the shocked faces that would be plastered all over everyone when his return was announced, particularly his students'. He imagined their shock would be mixed with dismay. He hoped that the substitute had stuck to his lesson plan. If she hadn't, the students would be in for a large amount of makeup work. He hesitated.

Albus thought he was dead. He may have very well given the substitute his job permanently…and his rooms. He looked over at Hermione. Damn, if he didn't have his rooms…then he would have no place to deflower her. Then again, he could do it just as well in her rooms as his own. But he wanted to take her in his bed. His domain. He wanted her sliding between his sheets, her body writhing on his mattress, her cries of passion echoing off his walls. It shouldn't matter where he took her, he knew…but it did. He wanted to bring his woman to his bed.

He sighed.

"What's wrong, Professor?" Hermione asked him, her brow wrinkled.

He looked at her.

"I was thinking that my rooms may have been taken over by the new Potions Master," he said.

"Potions Mistress," Hermione replied, "Your replacement is a witch."

Severus scowled as he imagined his rooms filled with flowers and knickknacks, and knickers hanging in his bathroom, while perfumes and facial creams lined his dresser. His bedroom was probably repainted in pastels, and frilly coverings on his bed. This wouldn't do at all.

"I wonder if Albus has given her my position," he mused out loud. He looked at Hermione. "It could well be that I am out of a job and will have to seek employment elsewhere."

Hermione felt her belly clutch at this statement. The Professor no longer at Hogwarts? How would they…gods. She hoped he still had a position. She wanted him near her, not someplace else.

"I'm sure it will work out, Professor," she said in a comforting voice. The Professor looked at her. He could tell the idea of him not being at Hogwarts disturbed her. It was a good feeling to know she cared.

"Don't worry Hermione," he said gently, "No matter where I go, I will never be far from you."

"But I don't want you to go anywhere else!" Hermione blurted out.

Snape looked down at the witch and stopped walking. He caught her chin gently in his hand.

"You have no idea how good it makes me feel to hear you say that, Hermione," he said softly.

He allowed himself to place a soft kiss on her lips, though inwardly…he burned for her. Her admission meant so much. Knowing she felt that strongly about needing his presence made his heart swell. Damn. He wanted to be inside her so badly.

He released her chin. Hermione felt a tingling where his hand had touched her face. How much more would her body tingle beneath those hands? She felt a strong burst of desire flow through her. Snape saw it in her eyes and drew in a breath. This was torture.

"Come," he said tightly, "Let us get to the castle and get our answers."

He started striding again as Hermione fought back her feelings and followed him. Presently, the castle came into view, and Snape's eyes glittered.

"Hogwarts," he breathed.

They hurried across the grounds and walked up the stairs to the main doors. They hesitated, aware of the furor they would create if anyone was about when they walked in. The couple looked at each other.

"I hope Albus doesn't have a heart attack," Hermione said to the Potions Master. Snape arched an eyebrow.

"More than likely I will be subjected to numerous embraces while he soaks my robes with tears of joy," he replied. "Then McGonagal will finish me off, her tears and embraces punctuated with kisses."

Hermione chuckled. He was probably right. She placed her hand on the door.

"Ready?" she asked.

"When is one ever ready for assaults on their person?" he responded, staring at the door as if it were the first step to the waiting gallows. "But yes. I am ready to descend on Hogwarts."

Hermione grinned a little wickedly.

"Let me take my backpack, Professor. It will make you easier to hug." she said.

Severus scowled at her, but slipped off the backpack and handed it to her. Most likely the Headmaster would hug it too, pressing it into his back uncomfortably. Hermione slipped it on, opened the door and walked through. Snape drew a deep breath, then followed her.

He had been right. There was no one in the main hall.

"I think we'd best contact Albus through the main floo," Snape suggested. He was glad there would be no public scene.

He and Hermione walked over to the floo. The witch took a handful of floo powder from the box on the mantle and tossed it in. The flames turned green.

"The Headmaster's office," she said, then called, "Headmaster? Headmaster!"

At first there was no answer. Then a joyous "Miss Granger? Is that you?" from the Headmaster.

"Yes, sir. I'm back," she said.

"Come up!" the Headmaster replied.

Hermione looked at Severus, who had a strange look on his face. Hearing the Headmaster's voice had an effect on him, and he was trying to hide it. Hermione wasn't fooled however.

"Let's go," she said gently, "I'll go first. You hang back a little."

Snape nodded. Hermione stepped through the floo. The Professor waited several seconds, then followed her, just as two fourth years students entered the main hall. One saw the Professor as he stepped through the floo. The other didn't.

The student who did see him stopped dead in his tracks, his face going pale.

"What's wrong with you?" the other student inquired, looking at the boy's stricken face.

He lifted his hand and pointed at the floo as if that would explain it all.

"What?" the other student said impatiently.

"I…I…I saw Professor Snape. He was entering the floo," he stammered.

The other student looked at him as if he were crazy.

"The Professor's dead," he said firmly.

The shocked student looked at his friend, his blue eyes wide.

"I'm telling you, Professor Snape just walked into that floo," he said running up to it. "Look, the flames are still green. The other boy walked up and saw the green flames before they turned back to their original color.

"Hmm. Somebody went through, that's for sure. But Professor Snape? Come on, Wayne," he said.

"I'm telling you, Radcliff…Professor Snape went through that floo, and it wasn't a ghost. He was as solid as you or I. He's back," Wayne said firmly.

"I've got a galleon that says you're wrong," Radcliff said, fishing in his robes pocket and pulling out his coin. Wayne looked at him.

"Easy money. It's a bet. You'll see tomorrow. Dumbledore will be announcing his return at breakfast," the boy said, showing his own money.

"Yeah, right," Radcliff snorted. "Come on, let's get to the dorms."

The young wizard headed for the main stairwell. Wayne stared at the floo for a moment, then followed him, thinking about Potions. The new Professor had been giving them all high marks to make herself look good. With Snape back, the easy ride his students had been taking in Potions class would be over. Damn it!

---

Hermione stepped through the floo, into Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster looked up at her from behind a pile of parchments spread on his desk. His eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles. He was wearing a matching purple hat and robe, the hat high and pointed, and the ensemble was peppered with small yellow stars. He rose from behind the desk and walked up to her.

"Miss Granger…Hermione," he said in a choked voice, "We were so worried about you. I'm glad you made it back safely."

The old wizard embraced her warmly, his eyes closed. Thank the gods she made it back in one piece. He drew back from her.

"I trust you completed Severus' last request?" he asked her.

Hermione smiled broadly.

"Yes, yes I did Headmaster," she replied, turning toward the floo, as Snape stepped out of it.

Albus stared at the Potions Master, shock on his face. Then he brought his hand to his chest and started to hyperventilate.

"Headmaster!" Hermione cried.

"Albus!" Snape said, striding forward and helping the Headmaster to step back and lean against his desk. Albus was gasping desperately. Snape transformed one of the parchments into a brown paper bag. He was about to place it over the Headmaster's mouth and nose when Hermione pushed it away.

"No," she said, "Headmaster, close your mouth and cover one nostril! Breathe through the other nostril!"

Albus managed to do this. After a couple of minutes, his breathing returned to normal.

Hermione looked at Professor Snape.

"Using a paper bag causes too much carbon dioxide to return to the lungs too fast. It's better to breathe in less oxygen," she said knowledgably. She was still a know-it-all, but in this case it was a good thing.

"Severus…" The Headmaster croaked, staring at the Potions Master

"Yes, Albus. I have returned," Snape said, giving him a smirk.

The Headmaster launched himself at the dark wizard, wrapping his long arms around him and embracing him tightly. Snape's arms reflexively wrapped around the old wizard in response.

"My boy," Albus said in a broken voice, "I thought you were gone forever."

"No sir," Snape managed to grunt out as he was being crushed, "The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated."

Albus held on to him, rocking gently. Snape's black eyes shifted to Hermione pleadingly as the witch watched Albus' display of affection for his returned Potions Master with a broad smile. She let it continue for a minute more as Snape scowled at her. Then she acted.

"Headmaster, let him go. He can hardly breathe," she said, placing her hand on Albus' shoulder.

The Headmaster released Snape, who plucked at his tear-soaked robes, looking at Hermione as if to say 'I told you so." Hermione smirked.

The Headmaster stared at Snape a bit longer, then started…quickly walking over to the floo.

"I must tell Minerva!" he said joyously, grabbing a handful of floo powder.

"No!" Snape said, stepping forward, "Er, I'm sure she is resting. It can wait until tomorrow, Albus."

Albus turned to him, grinning.

"Minerva would kill me if I didn't let her know," he said, tossing the powder into the floo.

Snape rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, then his shoulders slumped in defeat.

It was all Hermione could do to keep from bursting into laughter at the consternation on the wizard's face.

"Minerva? Minerva!" Albus called.

"Yes, Albus?" the Transfigurations Professor answered him.

"Stop whatever it is you're doing and come to my office immediately. It's very important," the Headmaster coaxed.

There was silence for a moment. Then…

"Albus, I'm not in the mood tonight. I have a headache," Minerva responded. "Maybe tomorrow night."

The Headmaster looked back at Snape and Hermione, his face bright red. Hermione tried to hide her grin. Snape's face was decidedly neutral, though if one looked closely he or she would have noticed a slight upturn of his mouth on the right side. Albus leaned back down to the floo.

"It's not that," the embarrassed Headmaster hissed at her.

"I've heard that one before," Minerva replied, thoroughly unconvinced.

The Headmaster scowled.

"Minerva, get in here right now!" he seethed.

Maybe it was the edge in his voice that made the witch respond. She stepped through the floo. She was in a granny nightgown, a housecoat thrown over it, and her long hair was loose and flowing down her back. She faced Albus, not seeing the witch and wizard at first.

"Now what is so important that you feel the need to order me about like a peon?" she scolded. The Headmaster twisted her head toward Snape. Minerva let out an ear-shattering shriek that made all three clasp their hands over their ears. The witch pointed a trembling finger at Snape.

"That's Severus," she said, her voice quivering.

"Yes, my dear. He's come back to us," Albus said gently.

Minerva looked at the Headmaster for a moment, then turned back to Snape, who braced himself. She flew across the room and latched on to his neck, pulling him down in a surprisingly strong embrace.

"Severus! Oh my gods, I thought you were dead," she gushed, her tears flowing freely.

"No, Minerva. I am very much alive. Would you mind crying on my other shoulder? This one is already soaked," he said, holding the sobbing witch lightly. Minerva didn't respond and continued to drench him with tears for several minutes before pulling back from him.

She was scowling.

"How dare you just disappear for six months and not let anyone know where you were? We were worried sick. Sick I tell you. Then you have Hermione go off to gods knows where to fulfill your last request, thinking you were dead, and …." she scolded.

"I've missed you too, Minerva," the Potions Master said looking down at the witch, who stopped scolding and hugged him tightly again, before moving to Hermione and embracing her.

"I see your journey was quite successful," she said to the witch, smiling at her, then at Severus.

"Very successful," Hermione replied looking at the Potions Master also.

The Headmaster looked at Severus sternly, now that the shock and joy of seeing him in the flesh was becoming old.

"Where were you, Severus? What happened to keep you away from us for so long," Albus asked the wizard. Snape looked at him consideringly for a moment.

"Perhaps we should all sit down," he suggested. Albus returned to his desk and sat attentively, his hands folded on his desk. Minerva and Hermione took the two armchairs in front of the Headmaster, and Severus transfigured a book into another chair, then folded himself into it.

All listened attentively as the Potions Master told of the death of Voldemort, their awakening in the void, and how Voldemort was sent to Hell while he was spared because of his deed.

"They called it a 'save'," he explained to his rapt audience.

Then he told them about the beings of light, and how they couldn't take him because he wasn't 'properly' dead, and how he was trapped in the void and watched as Hermione made her journey.

Hermione was a bit shocked by this revelation. Her amber eyes narrowed at Snape as he spoke of it. When did he start watching her and how much had he seen? She'd have to ask him about that later. Hermione suspected he'd seen quite a bit. She colored.

Snape then described what his return was like, the pain he endured before returning to the corporeal world. How the spell had reversed itself and he had to endure the burning, then fell to earth. He finished with Hermione kissing and reviving him. Both the Headmaster and Minerva looked at the witch appraisingly.

"It sounds a little bit like that muggle fairytale, Snow White, but reversed. In this case the Princess awakened the Prince with a kiss," Minerva observed with a tight smile as she eyed Hermione. She suspected something more went on between these two than Severus was telling.

"Indeed it does," Albus agreed, sounding thoughtful as he looked between the Potions Master and the Spells Mistress. He hoped there was something between them. He turned to Hermione.

"Now it's your turn, Miss Granger, tell us of your journey," he said.

Hermione recounted her tale, beginning with hearing Severus' voice telling her to use the ring as a port key, meeting Peter, then his mother and taking a room at the inn. She also told them about Ketri's attack on her and how he disappeared and no one could find him.

"The ring killed him," the Professor said, his nostrils flared, "The man intended to kill you after he had his way with you. If he were simply attempting to rob you, he would have lived. The ring is very unforgiving concerning assassins and would-be murderers. It won't leave dangerous enemies alive to try again."

Hermione's eyes fell on the ring resting innocently on the Potions Master's hand. So it had killed Ketri. She hadn't known that. Still, she felt bad a man was killed because of her.

"Hermione, he would not have felt any pity for you," Snape said, divining her thoughts. "He would have raped you and killed you with a clear conscience. He was an animal of the worst sort. Don't feel guilty about his death. He wouldn't have felt guilty about yours."

The Potions Master placed a large pale hand over Hermione's small one, and squeezed it reassuringly. Albus and Minerva looked at each other. The Potions Master never initiated physical contact with anyone…yet he was doing so with Hermione. Yes, something definitely was going on here.

"Continue with your story, Hermione," the Potions Master said, his black eyes meeting hers encouragingly. She did.

She told about how Raucous saved her from the charging unicorns, and how the ring heated up in the middle of the night, waking her…but nothing else happened. Snape looked thoughtful at this. If the ring heated up, something was definitely happening. Probably Hermione wasn't aware of it. Snape could view the deeds of the ring. He would do it later, and see what happened that night.

Hermione continued, telling about the wolves, and the wizards that tried to take the ring, and the guardian that saved her. Then she described bringing the Professor's body back, and how she thought he was dead, and kissed him because she was sorry she had failed him. Snape looked at her, his black eyes soft as she described her sadness. It was at that moment he was sure the witch loved him.

She then described returning to the village, and the townspeople's reaction to Snape being in the village, and how the Potions Master met Peter and Petra. She ended with them returning to Hogwarts.

Albus looked at her. "That was quite an adventure, Miss Granger. Thank the gods you got back to us safely," he said.

"Yes, thank the gods," Minerva said, looking at Snape sternly, "You could have let her know she was going to resurrect you."

"I thought it would be too much stress, particularly if it didn't work," Snape said, trying to placate the witch. She harrumphed and crossed her arms disapprovingly.

"It was fine, Minerva. Bringing him back was a pleasant surprise," Hermione offered, hoping it would calm the witch. Minerva harrumphed again.

Silence followed as the wizards and witches looked at each other. Then Snape broached the subject he was most concerned about.

"Albus, do I still have a position here?" he asked the Headmaster.

Albus looked at him, hesitatingly.

"Your position has been filled by Professor Flintlock, Severus. I'm afraid I can't remove her without good reason," he said sadly.

Hermione's heart plummeted. No, this couldn't be happening.

"I see, Headmaster," Snape replied. Damn.

Albus looked at the parchments on his desk.

"I was just going over the student's marks in her class. I have to say Severus, that since she's been here, the pupils' marks have increased significantly. Everyone is doing extremely well," the Headmaster said, "I think she is reaching them."

Severus scowled. He knew his students. Most of them had no aptitude for Potions. It was impossible for all of them to have high marks.

"May I see those?" he asked.

"Certainly," the Headmaster said, passing him the sixth year parchments. Snape shuffled through them, his scowl growing darker. Hermione watched him. Snape looked up at the Headmaster sharply.

"Albus, I have known most of these students for several years, and am aware of their capabilities. There is no way these students could earn these kinds of marks in Potions. No way. They don't have the aptitude," he stated firmly, passing the parchments back to the Headmaster.

Albus looked at Snape with a serious expression on his kind face.

"Severus, are you suggesting that Professor Flintlock is purposely fudging the students' grades?" he asked the Potions Master.

"With my knowledge of the pupils in that class, Albus, I have to say yes. She is doing exactly that," Severus replied, his brow furrowed. "And by doing this, she is putting the students in grave danger. They will be working on potions without proper knowledge. As you know, Albus, that can be lethal."

"Yes," the Headmaster replied, frowning. "How can we prove this? If she is doing what you accuse her of, Severus, then she will be removed from the position and you can return to your classes and your rooms."

"Allow me to conduct an impromptu test in her sixth-year class, Professor. I will assign potions to be brewed and monitor the students carefully. If the majority managed to brew them properly, then I will admit I was mistaken, and Professor Flintlock has a way of imparting knowledge to the students that I am incapable of," Snape said, his black eyes glittering. "The sooner we do this, the better. Student lives are on the line."

Albus nodded, "Will tomorrow be too soon?" he asked.

"Tomorrow will be perfect," the Professor said, his eyes shifting toward Hermione. If he were correct, he could be back in his rooms within a few days. Once he was back in his rooms…

"Severus, you will stay in my guest bedroom while we investigate this situation," Albus said firmly.

"Yes Headmaster," Snape said, his eyes still on Hermione, who was looking at him with equal longing. No doubt she would accept him in her rooms tonight if he wished it. He turned to the Headmaster. "Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome Severus," the Headmaster said. Then he smiled. "I still can't believe you're back. Wait until I make the announcement that you still live. Everyone will be ecstatic."

Snape snorted. Albus still persisted in his delusion that everyone appreciated the Potions Master as much as he.

"And wait until they find out you are the wizard who killed Voldemort!" the Headmaster added happily. Snape stiffened.

"No. No, Albus. I don't want it made public. Ever," Snape practically hissed.

Albus looked at him stunned.

"Why not, Severus. You are a hero. You have done a great service to the wizarding world. You should be acknowledged and admired," he said.

Snape looked at him.

"Headmaster, I am not a wizard used to admiration. I am used to being despised and prefer it that way. It keeps the idiots away from me. I am free of Voldemort now, and can live a relatively normal life. If what I've done is made public, I will not be able to freely move through the wizarding world. My every act, my every relationship will be scrutinized, and my private life thrown across the headlines of tabloids. Everywhere I go, people will want to shake my hand or have me sign autographs. I won't be able to shop or stop in an inn for a drink, or anything. I don't want to live that way, Albus. I just want to be left alone," Snape stated firmly.

The Headmaster looked at him.

"When you put it that way, I see your point Severus. I will keep the knowledge to myself, as will Minerva," he stated, looking at his lover.

"Yes, yes I will," Minerva said.

"I know you will, Minerva," Albus said. He threw his hand out and muttered an incantation. The witch's eyes went blank for a moment as Hermione gasped.

"You obliviated her?" Hermione asked, frowning at the Headmaster. How could he?

Albus sighed. "Yes I did, Hermione. Minerva is a lovely woman who means well, but she is also a gossip. Sooner or later she would have told of Severus' deed. I've been dealing with her for over thirty years, Miss Granger. I know her. It's better this way. I've only taken out the part about Voldemort. She'll remember everything else," he said reassuringly.

Hermione didn't like it, but it probably was for the best.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Snape said as Minerva came back to herself. She blinked and stood up quickly.

"I think I should say good night," she said, moving toward the floo, "I am very tired."

"Very well my dear," Albus replied smiling at her.

Minerva bid Snape and Hermione a hasty good night, threw a handful of floo powder into the fireplace and stepped through.

The Headmaster stood up and looked from Snape to Hermione.

"I am about to retire as well," he said. "Severus, your room is down the hall, the third door on the right. If you need anything, a house elf will attend you. Goodnight. And good night Miss Granger. I am pleased to have you both back with us," he smiled at the couple, rose from his desk and exited the office.

Hermione looked at Snape, whose black eyes were fixed on her.

"So…we are back at Hogwarts," she said softly, not knowing exactly what to say to this wizard who made her insides feel as if they were made of hot pudding.

"Yes we are," he replied, "Although I am currently at a disadvantage…having no rooms of my own."

Hermione looked at him, and swallowed as she prepared to say something quite forward.

"You could always come to my rooms, Professor," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. She was offering him more than a place to sleep, and the wizard knew it. He felt a throb as he looked at her face, the expression on it a beautiful mixture of shyness and longing. Yes, he could go to her rooms, to her bed and release everything he felt for her. But a stubborn part of him still wanted her the way he imagined. In his rooms, in his domain.

"I want you in my bed, Hermione," he replied, his voice carrying a slight growl.

"Well, you could sleep on my couch," she suggested. The Professor arched an eyebrow at her.

"If I were to go to your rooms with you, Hermione, I might start out on the couch, but by morning I would be in your bed. You know that," he said softly.

Yes, she did know that. That was her entire intention.

"Yes, I do," Hermione replied, her amber eyes locked to his black ones. "That's what I want."

Snape felt himself getting an erection. He stood up, pulled Hermione to her feet and crushed her against him, possessing her mouth hungrily as she melted against him. He couldn't stop his hands from moving over her body as he tasted her warmth, her willingness to give herself to him. He pressed his organ against her, needing that contact, and the witch groaned, the sound rising from someplace deep inside her soul.

"Please, Professor…come to my rooms," Hermione gasped against his mouth. "I'm so ready."

"My…bed," the Professor managed to grunt. "Only a day or two."

"Now," Hermione hissed beginning to pull him toward the floo.

"I told Albus I'd stay here," he groaned as she edged him closer to the fireplace.

"The hell with what you told Albus, Professor. I feel as if I am going to explode if you don't take me," Hermione breathed, then realized what she had said.

Snape looked down at her, aroused by the language she used. He felt himself quaking he wanted her so bad.

"Hermione," he breathed, "Your first time, I plan to make love to you. After that I will ride you, and ride you and ride you until your toes are stuck in a perpetual curl. I promise you. Just…not tonight. It is important to me that you are in my bed when I deflower you. That your blood be on my sheets. I don't know why I feel this way, Hermione. I have never hesitated to take a woman I desired before, at whatever location that was available except my own bed. I believe it is because you are special and precious to me. I want you to be the first and only woman I take to my bed."

He allowed himself one more sweet, lustful kiss before he moved away from her, which was difficult because she was following him as he backed away. He managed to wrest free of her, picked up her pack and pushed it into her arms to keep her from grabbing him again. He hurt it was so hard.

"Go to your rooms, Hermione," he said, his black eyes meeting her heated ones. "Dream about me."

"I am fucking tired of dreams!" Hermione said loudly. "I want you!"

Fawkes, asleep on her perch, woke up, untucked her head from beneath her wing and looked at the pair, trilling softly.

Snape shushed Hermione, looking back at the doorway Albus had used to exit, thinking he might have heard the witch's passionate declaration.

"You will have more of me than you can stand, Hermione. Just be patient a little while longer," he said as the witch scowled up at him from behind her backpack. "It will be worth it, I promise you."

Hermione looked up at the Professor realizing this was just as hard for him as it was for her. He wanted to make his first time with her special. Most wizards wouldn't be so thoughtful.

"All right Professor. I can wait if you can. But if you change your mind, please come to me. I won't have a stitch of clothing on," she breathed.

The Professor closed his eyes. Hermione was quickly learning to become a temptress.

"Just go, Hermione," he croaked.

The witch gave him a rather evil smile, knowing her comment about waiting for him naked would haunt him all night long, maybe even drive him through the floo in the middle of the night. Yes, she really was learning.

"Good night, Professor," she said, grabbing a handful of floo powder and tossing it into the flames.

"My rooms," she said, stepping through the floo.

Snape stood there, breathing as if he had just run a marathon. That last comment had almost broken his resolve. The image of Hermione lying naked in her bed, waiting for him to come and take her flashed through his mind. Snape pushed it away, then turned and walked to Albus' desk. He gripped the edge of it so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

Fawkes, watching him, began to sing a soothing tune. Snape felt it wrap around him, easing him, calming him down. The quaking stopped. The Professor sighed and turned to the Phoenix.

"Thank you, Fawkes. I don't think I would have lasted left to my own devices," he said to the bird. "That young woman has an iron grip on me. She is well on her way to becoming an excellent seductress."

Fawkes rolled her eyes at the dark wizard. Even she could see he needed very little seducing when it came to Hermione.

"I saw that," Snape said, scowling at the bird.

Fawkes made a stuttered squawking noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

Snape turned and walked toward the guest room, his thoughts on the naked witch waiting in her rooms.

It was going to be a long night.

---

Hermione awoke the next morning in a bad temper. Her attempt at luring the Professor to her bed had failed miserably. When she returned the night before, she quickly removed all the sheets from her furniture and dusted as best she could without magic, trying to neaten up the place in case he came. She put fresh sheets and covers on her bed, showered and slid between the sheets, waiting. Finally she fell asleep.

Frowning, she rolled out of bed, used the loo, brushed her teeth and washed her face. She stalked back into her bedroom and hastily dressed. She wanted to be in the Great Hall when Albus announced Severus' return. She returned to the bathroom and quickly brushed her hair, then exited her rooms. As she stepped out into the dungeon hallway she found the Professor leaning against the opposite wall, looking at her. Instead of speaking to him, she started up the corridor.

Snape smirked. He knew she was furious at him for not coming to her rooms last night. He quickly caught up to the witch.

"Good morning, Hermione. Sleep well?" he asked her silkily.

Hermione felt like taking a swing at him.

Snape caught her shoulder and stopped her, spinning her to face him.

"I have something of yours," he said, reaching into his robes pocket and pulling out a wand.

Hermione's eyes widened. "My wand!" she cried taking it from him and letting out a shower of sparks. "Where did you get it?" she asked.

"I retrieved it after I sent you back to Hogwarts," he said, "It was in my pocket when I killed Voldemort. I imagined it reformed with my body. I realized I had it last night when I undressed for bed."

"Thank you so much, Professor," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

He looked at her.

"So, am I forgiven?" he asked her as she looked at her wand happily.

"Hermione looked up at him.

"Forgiven for what?" she asked, still joyful about getting her wand back. Using the school wands had been hell.

"For not coming to your rooms last night," he said in a low voice.

Hermione looked at him.

"I waited for you," she said, her amber eyes darkening a bit, "when you didn't show, I feel asleep. No dreams to comfort me."

The Professor drew closer, his face inches from hers, his black eyes intense.

"You won't have to wait for dreams much longer Hermione. It was very hard to keep from coming to you in the middle of the night. Extremely hard," he said softly. "It took all my strength and discipline."

He gave her a soft, lingering kiss.

"I only hope, Hermione, that when you do come to me, I can maintain some control," he whispered against her ear, his warm breath like a caress.

Hermione's knickers went instantly wet. The Professor was so damn sexy. She wanted him to lose control, because she was certain she would.

"Professor," she breathed as he moved back from her. Suddenly both heard a collective gasp, and turned around. A group of Slytherin students stood staring at the Professor with disbelieving eyes and open mouths. None of them said a word. They simply gaped at him. He scowled.

"What are you all staring at?" he snarled, "Go to breakfast, now! Before I take points."

The students all jumped and jetted past them, looking back in awe as they hurried toward breakfast. Hermione looked at him with a frown.

"Professor, that was terrible. They were just shocked to see you…alive," she said to him, putting her hands on her hips as the Professor smirked after the students.

"I have to restore the balance, Hermione. They haven't seen me in a while. I need to re-establish my authority," he said as they began walking. Now more students were passing, their eyes wide. None dared stop however. The Professor was glaring at each and every pupil that dared to look him in the eye.

"You really enjoy keeping them quivering, don't you Professor?" Hermione asked him.

"Definitely," he replied before shifting his eyes toward her with a wicked gleam, "But my students aren't the only ones I want quivering, Hermione."

Hermione felt such a powerful burst of warmth in her belly, she gasped.

"Professor, you have to stop talking about this. I can't take it," Hermione breathed, "I bet anyone who looks at me can tell I'm turned on."

Snape's black eyes swept over her appraisingly. Her amber eyes were glistening and heated, her lips were moist and parted, her skin had a light flush and she was perspiring slightly. Yes, she definitely looked randy.

"I see your point," he said, not making her feel any less conspicuous. "A change of subject then. I would like you to be an observer during my testing of the sixth year Potions students today," he said as they turned into the main hall and headed to breakfast. They didn't take the normal route that led through the staff member entrance. Snape wanted to make an entrance. Not so much for the students and faculty, but for the Potions Mistress. He wanted to put her off balance.

"I'll be glad to observe," Hermione replied.

"Thank you," he said as he pushed open the doors to the Great Hall and let her enter first. They walked side-by-side up the center aisle as gasp, after gasp and even a couple of shrieks rang out from the student body. As they mounted the stairs, Snape heard several groans and grinned wickedly. He was home all right, and the misery of the students upon his return was music to his ears. Now all he needed was to get his class back. The entire staff descended on him, patting his back and welcoming him as if he were a long lost child. Finally he couldn't take any more.

"As you can see I am back in one piece, a piece that will most certainly be damaged if you all continue to pound on me," he snarled, "Now kindly let me eat my breakfast."

The staff all returned to their seats, scowling a bit. Obviously the Professor's brush with death did nothing to sweeten his personality. Professor Flintlock was sitting in his chair. She was the only staff member who did not greet him, and the red-haired, green-eyed witch looked at him rather sourly as he eyed her before he turned a fork into a chair, which he placed by Hermione and sat in stiffly. That had been his spot for years. He didn't appreciate the witch occupying his seat, his classroom or his private rooms. During the meal, Professor Flintlock cut glances toward the dark, pale wizard who was the former Potions Master. He probably wanted his job back. No way. She was making out good here at Hogwarts, and she wasn't about to resign.

The witch knew Albus couldn't remove her without a good reason, so she felt relatively secure. The wizard would just have to find work elsewhere.

There was a sudden tinging sound that echoed through the hall. All eyes turned toward Dumbledore, who was standing and knocking a fork against a glass. This was his signal that he had something of importance to share. Everyone fell silent.

"Good morning, students and faculty. I would like to share some wonderful news with you. Our Spells Mistress, Miss Hermione Granger has returned from her journey…and brought back our Potions Master Severus Snape, whom we mistakenly thought dead. This is indeed a most joyous occasion. Let the Professor know how happy we are to see him, healthy and fit," the Headmaster said.

Scattered applause sounded throughout the hall, as Snape stood and scowled at each table of students maliciously. The applause was extremely short-lived. Snape sat back down and ignored Hermione's glare, smirking slightly He was back in his element.

Professor Flintlock noticed immediately how unpopular the wizard was with the students, and took this to be a good sign. They all liked her very much. It would be no contest. Plus her grading system gave the appearance that her teaching methods were superior to Professor Snape's. The Headmaster had to be impressed. She finished her breakfast in good spirits, and exited the Great Hall. She had a class soon.

Snape watched the witch go, his eyes hooded. He'd soon see just how thorough Professor Flintlock's teaching methods were.

---

Professor Flintlock had just finished taking the roll for her sixth year class, when the door to her classroom opened and in walked the Headmaster, followed by the Spells Mistress and Professor Snape. Her eyes narrowed for a moment as she eyed the former Potions Master, then widened in greeting.

"Why Headmaster, always a pleasure," she said, smiling as the Headmaster walked to the head of the class. The Professor followed as Hermione hung back a bit. This wasn't going to be pretty.

"Good afternoon, Professor," Albus said pleasantly, "This is Professor Snape, the former Potions Master here at Hogwarts." He gestured toward Snape.

"Professor," the witch said. There was a bit of coldness in her voice. Snape caught it. He nodded at the witch.

"Professor Flintlock, I was very impressed with the marks this class has been getting in the past few months since you joined us," the Headmaster said. "So impressed that I'd like a demonstration of their skills."

The Professor stiffened.

"A…a…demonstration?" she asked. This wasn't good.

"Yes," Albus replied, "I've talked Professor Snape into giving them a few random brewing assignments. Nothing too difficult, just creating a few everyday potions."

"I see," Flintlock replied, eyeing Snape, who looked at her with an arched eyebrow. "What kind of potions will you have them brew?"

"I will assign each student a different potion, more or less. Standard, of course, though those with the higher marks will have something challenging. Given their grades, I imagine the brewing will be simple enough for them," he purred at her.

"Certainly," she replied, "Of course I will be allowed to observe?"

"Ah…no," Albus said, "It would be best to have an unbiased observer, my dear. The Spell Mistress will oversee the results. She has a degree in Potions as well."

Flintlock's face clouded over. This really wasn't good.

"Headmaster, wouldn't it be more fair to wait a few days and let them prepare for such an examination?" she suggested.

"Why, Professor? Given their marks they should already be prepared," Albus said, "Do you have any reason to doubt their abilities?"

"Such as you've bumped up their marks?" Snape thought as he looked at the witch, who had gone pale.

"Ah…no sir. It's just that some students might not perform well under pressure," she replied. "I always give them a few days to prepare for tests."

"If you have taught them well, Professor, then they should be able to properly brew a potion regardless of it being a test or not," Snape said, eyeing her. "A good brewer can create a potion under stress. And with these marks, I presume they are all good brewers."

Black eyes met green eyes, and the witch knew immediately that Professor Snape suspected she was giving high marks for mediocre or even poor work. She nodded weakly.

"Well then, I'll get right to it," Snape said, walking up to the blackboard and picking up the chalk. He wrote the name of ten potions on the board, then picked up a parchment and quill. He called up the first student and gave him his potion to brew. There was no list of ingredients. The potions were simple however. The students should all know the ingredients and measurements of each. He sent the boy to the storeroom to collect his supplies. When he returned and began to set up his cauldron, Snape sent the next.

Professor Flintlock looked at the list of Potions on the board and blanched. There was no way this class was going to pull this off. Someone might get hurt, or even killed. She had an internal struggle with herself, trying to decide whether or not to admit what she had been doing. She watched as the first student heated up his cauldron, added the base and looked at his ingredients with a puzzled face. He faltered over one, then another…not knowing which to start with. He picked up a handful of lacewings and was about to add it to the base when the witch shouted.

"Don't add that! It's wrong…you'll cause an explosion. You can't add lacewing to that particular base, Fredrick," she said, defeat in her voice. "Anyway, lacewing is not even an ingredient in the potion you've been assigned. Put away your cauldron. All of you…put the cauldrons back," she said. She turned to Albus.

"Headmaster, I'm sorry. They aren't ready for this. I bumped up the marks to try to impress you," she said.

Albus frowned at her. "Professor, I'm afraid I am going to have to relieve you of your position immediately. You've put the students' lives at risk as well as been dishonest," he said firmly. "I am also afraid I cannot give you a letter of recommendation for employment in another teaching position."

The witch hung her head.

"Yes, Headmaster. I understand," she said in a small voice.

Snape breathed a small sigh of relief. He had been watching Fredrick and was prepared to stop the explosion. The witch was a cheat, but at least she had enough conscience not to allow a student to be hurt because of her cheating. That's what he had been hoping for all along. That she would confess rather than have the pupil's put in danger.

"How soon do you think you can have Professor Snape's office and rooms cleared out?" Albus asked her.

"I should be able to have everything cleared away by tomorrow evening," she replied.

"What about my creatures you removed from my office? It took me a long time to collect them. Did you destroy them?" Snape asked, his eyes glittering at her.

"No, they are in storage below the castle. I will retrieve them and replace them for you," the witch replied. The sparkle was gone in her green eyes.

Hermione watched in silence. It was terrible to see someone get fired, but the witch deserved it. Professor Snape was hard with marks, but the students worked for them. He never gave them a break. It was too dangerous to do so. They had to know what they were doing when dealing with Potions. One mistake and they could lose their lives. Today was a perfect example as to why he was so hard on his students. He wanted to make sure they could brew under pressure and wouldn't make mistakes that could kill them.

Professor Flintlock left the class with Albus. Professor Snape looked at the students imperiously. They all blanched.

"I hope you all enjoyed your ill-gotten marks," he said silkily, "because as of now all of you are borderline failures, and your marks will reflect this."

He turned to a parchment hanging on the wall. It had student names on it, with shimmering gold stars next to them. Snape ripped it off the wall, and tore it into little bits, letting the pieces fall on his desk. He then made a motion with his hand, and the pieces burst into flames that burned out, not even leaving ash.

He looked up at the pupils.

"As of now we are returning to the syllabus at the point where I departed six months ago. You will receive double assignments from now until the end of the year. I expect them to ALL be completed. I am determined to hammer some kind of knowledge into those wooden heads of yours before this course is over. Now take out your books, read chapter five and hand in a written summary at the end of class," he said. "Incomplete summaries will receive a failing grades. There will be NO partial credits in my class," he said, slamming his hand down on his desk for emphasis.

The classroom was filled with the sound of books being hurriedly opened. The Professor was back. Playtime was over.

Hermione watched as Snape reclaimed his classroom and his students, shaking her head slightly as he laid down the law. He was magnificent. His black eyes cut over to her, and he gave her a small smirk, before striding up and down the aisles, his robes billowing, looking over the shoulders of the students as he intimidated them with his closeness.

She gave him a wave and exited his classroom. His position at Hogwarts was again secure. Which meant he would soon have his rooms…, which meant he would soon have her.

Hermione felt a little pulse of desire in her belly as she thought of this. Gods she wanted him. She hoped Professor Flintlock was a fast packer.

She was.

The witch was entirely cleared out of the premises by the following afternoon. True to her word, she had restored all of Snape's horrible pickled creatures to the shelving. The Professor entered his study, relieved to find it still in the same shape and color it had been when he occupied it. All his liquor was still in the cabinet as well. Obviously, the witch didn't drink. He walked into the room most important. His bedroom. It wasn't pastel pink, though he saw some studs left in the wall where the witch had hung pictures. He looked at his four-poster king-sized bed. It was sheetless. He cast a very thorough cleaning spell on it, then turned the huge mattress over and cleaned it again. He cleaned it several times until he was satisfied all trace of the witch was removed from it.

Snape opened his wardrobe to find all his clothes neatly cleaned and hung. The same with his dresser and lower drawer. Obviously the witch had restored his rooms back to the state they were before she occupied them. That was thoughtful. Maybe she wasn't all bad. She had been rather young, and anxious to make a good impression. She just chose a dishonest way to do it. Hopefully she would learn from her experience and find work she was better suited for. Not everyone could teach.

The Professor walked into his bathroom. All of his items were restored there as well. Good, it didn't leave him much work to do. He opened the linen closet and removed his bedding, which was also cleaned. He made the bed by hand, rather than using magic, letting the silk sheets slip deliciously over his hands as he neatly spread and tucked them securely under the mattress. He then put an anti-slip charm on them, so they wouldn't pull loose and tangle around him and Hermione. He wanted nothing but skin on skin. He put pillowcases on the pillows, then covered the bed with a quilt of silver and green, of course. He had to fly the house colors for this night. He was deflowering a Gryffindor after all…and that was a bit of a coup. Snape was very house-oriented.

He sat down on the bed and bounced experimentally. His mattress was rather firm, he liked it that way. It was the perfect tautness for deflowerment. He grinned at the thought of Hermione under him. His member throbbed. He looked down at his lap.

"It won't be long now, old boy," he said.

He exited the bedroom, walked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself some cognac. He sipped the amber liquid appreciatively. He hadn't had a drink in over six months. It was delicious. He sat down in the armchair and stared into the fire idly.

Snape had wanted Hermione for five long years. He had treated her with respect the entire time, believing that one day he might have something more with her. But it was when he saved her life, and saw the gratitude in her eyes that he felt the urge to let her know he desired her. He gave her the ring, hoping that it would work for her based on his will. Then he kissed her. When she responded to him and his admission of wanting more didn't make her draw away, he knew there was a good chance that she was the one. He had written her into his will four years ago, since he had no one else he cared for who would benefit from his wealth. Albus and Minerva were both well off, and well up in years. Hermione was going to lead a promising life. His money would help her do that, even if he wasn't there to see the results.

He had left a large amount of money in trust for himself as well, in case he should manage to return. He didn't feel the least bit diminished by what he had given her, especially in lieu of what she was about to give him in a few hours. That alone was worth his entire fortune. What an amazing young woman she was. She walked into the unknown and risked everything for him, simply because he asked. But then again, she was a Gryffindor. When he made his plans to destroy Voldemort, he took her nature into account when he made his daring plan and drew up the instructions for the solicitor. Hermione had already proven she was up to adventure, her association with the dim-witted Potter and his idiot sidekick Weasley had shown that years ago. Her compassion would move her to grant a dead wizard's last wish, particularly if he had no one else to do it. Her love of a challenge sealed the deal.

Snape wasn't sure how much the ring would work for her. He knew it would transport her and protect her, though he didn't know if the Guardian would manifest for her. When it did, he knew she was destined for him. His instinct to give her the ring and the quest had been correct. That reminded him…

The Professor looked down at the ring and concentrated. The last several acts it committed were revealed to him. He watched as the Guardian manifested outside Hermione's tent under deep cover of darkness, and how it grabbed Grog's club in its mouth so the ogre couldn't bring it down on the tent and the sleeping witch within. He also saw how the Guardian pursued the ogre, cornered him in his cave and devoured him. Grog would have been a standing threat to Hermione her entire time on the mountain, intent on eating her. So the ring removed him.

Snape would share this information with Hermione over dinner tonight. He would have something light prepared. He hoped to make her relax. As ready for him as she appeared to be, there would still be nerves. He wanted her to feel safe with him, to trust him completely. Her trust was important.

After all, Snape wanted nothing more than to love her.

---

Hermione stood in front of the mirror looking at herself critically. She was wearing a thin-strapped Slytherin green and silver dress with matching pumps. Even her panties were Snape's house colors. She wore no bra. Her chestnut hair was pinned up elegantly and she wore a pair of dangling emerald and silver earrings. That was her only jewelry. The dress fit her shape nicely, flattering her curves. She spun slowly, trying to see herself at all angles.

The Professor said they would be having a late dinner together in his rooms. He didn't say anything else, but Hermione knew that tonight would be the night he would deflower her. She could see it in his eyes. Soon she would be skin to skin with him, and he would be closer to her than any man had ever been. The witch was excited and very nervous. What if she did something wrong? She didn't know anything about having sex. She only knew there was a great hunger for him gnawing at her insides, and had been for days, maybe even months. Maybe from the time he had first kissed her at the final battle, and let her know that he wanted more.

Hermione remembered when she first laid eyes on the Professor as a child. She had thought him the scariest, ugliest wizard she had ever seen. After attending his class for the first time, she added meanest to the list. But she realized after a short time that he was brilliant, and outside of Charms, Potions was her favorite class and, though she never admitted it to Harry or Ron, Professor Snape had been her favorite teacher. He was brilliant and demanding. He always had challenged her, even though she had to fight for every high mark she got in his class. She came to appreciate his caustic wit, and learned to tone herself down and listen rather than talk all the time. She found she really did learn more in his class that way. He was hard on her all the time, but she realized he had to be. Everything came so easy to her, it would have been an easy thing for her to take her brilliance for granted. The Potions Master never allowed her to do that, and made her second guess herself all the time until she learned to trust her instincts. He really had been quite an influence on her. She was trusting her instincts now…and they all said go to him.

Hermione couldn't remember exactly when she started to find the Potions Master attractive, although she knew it was in her sixth year. He wasn't handsome in the classic sense, he was more of a complete package. He had a kind of beauty about him. Strong, graceful, dangerous, intelligent, with a voice that could melt the polar ice caps. She had a small crush on him, but had never imagined that he had felt anything about her.

Five years he had wanted her. She was twenty-three now, so that meant she was a seventh year when his desire for her first began. When he kissed her at the Final Battle, Hermione realized she was still attracted to him, and very strongly so. The witch had dwelt on what could have been between them the entire six months before her journey to Mu. When the Professor came to her in her dreams, that spark of possibility she felt had quickly become a full-fledged flame. The witch knew in her heart that she loved the dark wizard. She had fallen in love with him in her dreams. And he had made it plain that he intended to marry her. Could he love her too?

Hermione looked at the clock. It was almost eight o'clock. She took one more look in the mirror and nervously smoothed her hair. It was time to go to the Professor's rooms. It was time to go to him.

---

Snape prowled his study from end to end, watching the clock impatiently. He checked the bedroom several times over to make sure it was acceptable. He had placed numerous floating candles there, and they spread a warm low glow and a light scent of sandalwood. He was dressed in his best robes, his hair brushed to silkiness and tied back in a ponytail. He checked the table several times as well, moving the candles around and setting and resetting the silverware. He didn't want to admit to himself he was nervous, but he was. He felt like an expectant adolescent. It was silly. He was the one with all the knowledge and experience. So why was his stomach all in knots?

He replumped the cushions on the sofa. He would take Hermione there after they ate, rather than directly to the bedroom. He wanted to go slow with her, savor the moments leading up to taking her, fan the flame of the slow burn they had both been feeling into a roaring fire before he unveiled her. It was almost eight o'clock. He straightened his robes and walked through his study into the Potions office so he could let her in. He stood there, bouncing on his toes nervously before he stopped himself with a curse. If he kept this up, he'd have to take a calming draught. Then came the light knock on the door, and he felt his stomach tighten. He counted mentally to three so she wouldn't know he'd been hovering by the door, then opened it.

Hermione stood there looking at him rather shyly. She was dressed in Slytherin colors. Gods, she looked beautiful, too beautiful for words. The Professor's black eyes slid over her. The dress accentuated every luscious curve of her body. He leveled his gaze at her face again, speechless.

Hermione drank in the sight of him. His robes were very nice, embroidered with serpents. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He looked very dashing.

They stood in the doorway, just staring at each other. Finally Hermione found her voice.

"Aren't you going to invite me in, Professor?" she asked him softly.

The Professor started as if woken up from a dream.

"Yes. Yes, Hermione, please come in," he said, stepping aside and letting her pass. She entered the office and turned to look at him.

"You look stunning, Hermione," he breathed as he looked at the beautiful witch in front of him, unable to believe how lucky he was that she felt as she did about him.

"Thank you," she replied, blushing slightly. "You look very handsome as well, Professor."

"Severus," he said softly, "Call me Severus, Hermione. No more 'Professor' in private. I want to hear you say my name."

"Severus," Hermione repeated as if hypnotized.

The sound of his given name on her lips shot straight to his loins. He was going to make her say his name over and over tonight. His nervousness left him immediately. He placed his hand on the small of her back.

"This way, my lady," Snape said, guiding her through the open wall to his study. He pulled the torch that closed the wall, then whispered a ward and a silencing spell. He then escorted Hermione to the table, pulled out her chair and helped her sit down, sliding the chair in closer.

"The table setting is lovely, Pro…Severus," Hermione said, admiring his handiwork.

"Thank you," he replied, sitting down across from her, his black eyes illuminated by the candlelight. "I planned a rather light dinner for us, nothing too heavy."

Here, Hermione blushed a bit. He didn't want her overeating. It might make her sluggish. Severus clapped his hands and a house elf appeared with a platter that contained two plates. On the plates were salad, an ample portion of blackened shrimp and a small crusty roll. It certainly was a light repast, but that was fine with Hermione. Her stomach was in knots anyway. She couldn't have eaten much. The elf placed a plate in front of each of them, then placed the platter under his arm and waited expectantly.

"It looks delicious," she commented. Snape's eyes were fixed on her as if she were an entrée. Hermione felt a little warmth between her legs at his intensity. Snape snapped out of it, looking first at the waiting elf, then at her.

"I wasn't sure what you preferred to drink with your meal. Would you like some wine?" he asked her. Hermione considered. She didn't want wine. She needed to be clearheaded.

"Would apple juice be all right?" she responded. Snape gave her a little smirk.

"Of course it would," he replied, then to the elf he said, "Bring us a pitcher of cold apple juice and two glasses."

"Yes sir. Right away sir," the elf said, winking out.

Hermione picked up her fork and ate a bit of salad. It was good.

"Would you like some salad dressing?" Snape asked her.

"No, this is fine," Hermione said, lowering her amber eyes to her plate. The hungry look in Severus' eyes was doing things to her. Anticipation was growing. The Potions Master was distinctly aware of every nuance her body language revealed. He licked his lips as his eyes rested on the curve of her throat. He imagined her eyes heavy lidded with pleasure as his mouth moved over it, tasting her soft skin. He was hardening. He popped a shrimp into his mouth and chewed.

The house elf returned with a large pitcher of apple juice and two glasses filled with never-melting ice. The creature set it on the table along with the two glasses, bowed and winked out again. Snape poured Hermione a glass, then himself. He passed the juice to her, and their fingers touched for just a moment, and a jolt shot through both of them at the contact. The tension was high indeed.

"Damn," Snape swore in a low voice as he stared at the witch.

"Did you feel it too, Severus?" Hermione asked, her eyes glowing.

"Yes," he replied, "Eat up." He tackled his food with vigor now. Hermione followed suit.

"By the way," Snape said, "I found out why the ring warmed up on your finger that night. It seems you were on the local ogre's dinner menu."

Hermione's eyes widened.

"There's an ogre on that mountain?" she asked, trembling a little. She had heard about ogres. They were worse than trolls. They were smaller, but much smarter.

"Not anymore," Snape replied, "The Guardian put him on its menu. Successfully I might add."

Hermione shuddered. The Guardian had eaten the ogre. She hadn't even known she was in danger. Snape looked at her.

"Don't tell me you're feeling sorry for the ogre," he said, his eyebrows lifting in mirth as if he were about to laugh at her.

"No," Hermione retorted, a bit of irritation in her voice. She was softhearted, but not that softhearted.

"Good," Snape replied, "Compassion is a wonderful quality, but it can be overdone. He would have turned you into a half-conscious Hermione pancake, sans the syrup."

Hermione shuddered again, to Snape's delight. He liked giving her the heebie-jeebies.

"That ring saved my life so many times," she said softly. Snape's eyes glittered.

"That's because to the ring, you are a Snape," he replied, possessiveness in his voice. "Its main purpose was to protect you."

Hermione looked at him curiously.

"But how did you know the ring would protect me, Severus?" she asked him.

"Hermione," he answered her softly, "I didn't know the Guardian would manifest for you. I knew the ring would transport you and protect you because it was my will."

Hermione processed this, then said, "Yes, but only a Snape could open the tomb. You said so yourself. Yet you sent me. I don't understand."

Snape sighed. He needed to make her understand how he felt about her, how he knew she was the one. He put his fork down and looked at her intensely.

"Hermione, you have been the object of my affections for several years. Somehow I felt that if anyone could open that tomb, it would be you. Call it instinct, or a premonition. I felt a connection with you. When I planned to kill Voldemort, it wasn't a definite plan. It was a last resort. Something I would do if I saw no better way. But I didn't want to die. Someone would have to bring me back, someone loyal and brave who wouldn't give up. I figured you into the equation because you are the most courageous, determined and compassionate person I know, witch or wizard. No one else on this earth would have done for me what you did. No one else would have taken up the challenge to go to an undisclosed place without magic and place something mysterious in a tomb because of a dead wizard's last request. But you did, just as I hoped you would and in the process I discovered you were indeed meant for me. If there was any doubt, our interludes in the dream realm dispelled them. You responded to me so sweetly, so passionately, as if we were meant to be together from the beginning of time."

Hermione's eyes were locked to Snape's, unable to look away or even move as he poured his heart out to her.

"I've watched you grow up from a child, Hermione. You aren't the kind of witch that easily gives herself to a wizard the way you gave yourself to me. If you were, you would have lost your virginity long ago. There aren't many twenty-three year old virgins, Hermione, and I am sure many young attractive wizards have approached you in your time. But it's me you want. There is something about me that makes you willing to be deflowered, to be possessed. You've already let me do things to you that I know no other wizard has done. I know you never had a man bring you to orgasm the way I did in that dream. It was something you wanted from me. Me alone."

The Professor leaned toward her now, his voice becoming thick with desire.

"And tonight…you've come to my rooms willingly, knowing what I want to do to you, what I will do to you, and you want me. I can see it in your eyes, feel it in your kiss, even smell and taste it on your skin. Not to mention you've told me how you feel…scolded me, been angry with me. Been impatient for me. You are the most arousing, exciting woman I have ever known, and I've known quite a few, Hermione. They were all experienced, all beautiful, but none of them has ever affected me like you do. You've held my heart in your hands for five long years without even knowing it. When I saw those deatheaters pursuing you, intent on defiling and killing you, murder was in my heart. I would have gladly died rather than have any of them put one hand on you, you were that precious to me. Are that precious to me."

Snape rose from his seat and walked around the table to Hermione's side and knelt, taking her hand and kissing it, his dark eyes full of emotion.

"Sending you to Mu was not an off-chance, Hermione. To me, it was destiny. We are destiny. You have always belonged to me, with me. I have no intention of ever letting you go. I love you."

Hermione's heart began to pound as she looked into Snape's eyes. He didn't need to tell her he loved her to get her into his bed, she was already willing. That was why she was here. The only reason he would possibly say such a thing was because he meant it. She had never heard him say anything he didn't mean. Ever. Hermione felt as if her entire insides had melted and was now pooling between her thighs. She pushed her plate away.

"Suddenly I'm not hungry, Severus," she said rather hoarsely.

The Potions Master understood. He pulled out her chair and helped her up, then led her to the sofa and sat down, pulling her on to his lap. He gazed at her a moment.

"You are so beautiful," he breathed. Slowly he unpinned her hair, letting it tumble down over her shoulders. He gazed at her again.

"Yessss," he hissed, kissing her mouth gently at first, capturing her lips between his own and sucking at them lightly. His mouth was so soft, so gentle, Hermione couldn't help responding, liquid fire rolling over her body as their lips connected. Snape moved his mouth to her chin, then her throat, sucking and nibbling lightly, causing Hermione to sigh in pleasure.

"That's right, Hermione. Let me give you pleasure," he whispered, moving back to her mouth and possessing it with a deep, penetrating kiss as he began to caress her back and sides, thrilling her with his touch. Her body was so sensitive to his touch, she started trembling with pleasure, clamping her thighs together to try and ease the intense tingling between them. Her hands went to his head, her fingers pulling at his hair gently, then sliding over his throat and shoulders, then down across his chest. She could feel well-defined musculature beneath his robes. He didn't have a shirt on under it.

"What are you wearing under your robes?" she breathed as Snape fell to her throat again.

"My silk boxers," he replied, kissing the hollow of her neck, then pulling down one of her dress straps with his teeth, and running his tongue over her shoulder.

"You taste exquisite, Hermione," he sighed as he shifted her so he could reach the other strap with his teeth, also sliding it down and kissing her other shoulder, before returning to her throat, and then her mouth. Hermione was panting now. His mouth and hands were feeling so good on her body that reality was fading fast. The room was beginning to fade out, and he was the only thing real in the entire world.

"Oh gods," she groaned into his mouth. "Severus…what are you doing to me?"

"Loving you," he replied, pulling her arms free of the straps and lowering her dress so both of her breasts were exposed. He leaned her back and buried his face between them, kissing and licking, then sliding his mouth across the swell of one as his hand grasped the other, fondling it gently, but insistently. He swirled his tongue around her nipple before sucking it into his mouth, his tongue tapping and lapping at the hardened peak as he suckled her. Hermione let her head fall back in pleasure, her hands grasping his head tightly as she groaned. She was soaked between her thighs. She wanted him to hurry.

"I can't take much more of this, Severus…how long…gods. I need you," she hissed.

"You want me now, Hermione?" he asked her, his mouth around her breast, his hand rubbing her belly slowly, "There's so much more to do before I deflower you."

"I want you inside me, now," she gasped, her head snapping forward as she pulled him from her breast, half-crazed with lust. Her eyes were absolutely on fire as she gazed at him. She was in total sex mode. She had waited long enough as it was. Snape's black eyes glittered at the ferocity on her face.

"All right, my little virgin. Foreplay can wait," he growled, standing up and carrying her toward the bedroom. "You're ready for the real thing."

---

Snape carried the half-dressed Hermione into his candlelit bedroom and set her down in the middle of the floor. He swiftly removed her dress, kneeling as he pulled it down her body, revealing her flat belly, curved hips, smooth thighs and long legs. She stepped out of them, her amber eyes glued to his face as he looked at her knickers appreciatively.

"Slytherin green," he said, looking up at her and arching an eyebrow. Hermione was so overcome with need that she couldn't reply and simply looked down at him, her eyes smoldering. Snape hooked his pale fingers on either side of the waistband, and drew her knickers down, his black eyes focused on her bush. It was neatly trimmed again. He smirked before he rose facing her, stepping back and admiring her body.

"You are perfect," he breathed as he began to unbutton his robes. Hermione's eyes were locked to his hands as they flew down the front of his garment, and the pale skin beneath was slowly revealed. She unconsciously licked her lips when he slipped his robes off and she saw his lean, muscular body for the first time. Her eyes dropped downward, looking at the huge tent in his silk boxers.

"Take them off," she said softly, her eyes fixed on his loins. "I want to see all of you, Severus."

The Potions Master obliged her, lowering his boxers and stepping out of them.

"Damn," Hermione breathed as she looked at his large, thick tool. It was standing at full attention and pointing directly at her. Snape looked down at his organ, then back at Hermione, who couldn't seem to take her eyes off it.

"Are you scared, Hermione?" he asked her softly.

She looked up at him.

"No, not scared. Maybe a little apprehensive," she replied, her voice low.

He opened his arms and she stepped into them, feeling his hardness press up against her belly. Snape embraced her gently, stroking her hair as he felt her trembling against him. He kissed her temple.

"Trust me, Hermione," he breathed before lowering his head and kissing her. He began to back her towards the bed, keeping his mouth locked to hers, exploring her heat, his tongue entwining around hers. Her mouth was so hot, so accepting. He stopped when he felt her hit the edge of the bed. He stopped kissing her and his black eyes smoldered down at her.

"You don't know how many times I've dreamed of having you like this, Hermione," he breathed, "Get into the bed, sweet."

Hermione climbed into the four-poster, followed closely by Snape. She lay down on her back, looking up at him. The Professor's eyes swept down her body, and he lay down beside her, propping himself up on his elbow, gazing into her face. He began to caress her breasts with his other hand, then slid it down her belly then through her pubic hair. Hermione shuddered.

"Part your thighs for me," he whispered, his hand playing in the soft hair of her sex.

Hermione did, and buckled as the Professor's fingers slid into her moist folds. She cried out with pleasure as Snape worked his fingers back and forth against her, massaging her nub and making her rotate her hips deliciously.

"You are so sexy, Hermione. You make me want to come just watching you," he hissed.

"Please do me, Severus," she whimpered, biting her lip as he continued to play in her sex.

Gods, he wanted to hear her say that so many times over the past five years. Now here she was, beautiful, naked and begging for him. Snape removed his hand from between her legs and licked his fingers, her amber eyes watching him. Then he rolled on top of her, his length resting between her thighs. She groaned as she felt his hardness pressing against her, so close to the place she needed him to be. She arched her body upward so his organ pressed against her harder.

"You want to feel me?" he whispered. He lowered his head and kissed her, grinding against her in small tight circles before sliding back and forth over her, driving her wild with the contact, her hips instinctively pumping against him.

Snape pulled his mouth away from hers, continuing to work his body against her as he studied her face. She was moaning, her eyes closed, her body rocking against his.

"You know what to do, don't you Hermione? Nature is taking over. You feel so good like this. Slipping inside your tight, hot body is going to be heaven…for both of us," he said to her increasing his speed as he rubbed his organ over her mound. "Open your beautiful eyes, Hermione. I want to see your fire when I take you."

Hermione's eyes flew open and looked up at Snape pleadingly as he mercilessly rubbed himself over her, arousing her to a frenzy.

"Gods, please Severus…you're torturing me. I need you," she cried out.

Snape kissed her tenderly as he worked himself against her body. He drew back from her mouth again, and said in a silky voice, "I'm not trying to torture you, Hermione. I am savoring your desire for me. You're a lovely virgin, begging me to deflower you. It's the sweetest thing I've ever heard, like a siren's song, drawing me in. I want to remember every beautiful, needful word you say to me. I want to hear you sing until I can't stand it anymore. Then, I will bury myself deep inside you and claim you as my own, Hermione."

He dropped his head and kissed her deeply again, possessing her mouth, his hands caressing her body tenderly, driving her to a higher state of need. His entire length was bathed in her juices, the air full of the scent of her arousal. He heard her cries of need, felt them vibrate into his mouth as his tongue tangled with hers over and over. A fire was burning deliciously in his loins as he held back his desire, tormenting himself as well as the witch beneath him, rolling his thickness in her wetness, hissing at the heat, anticipating her tight sleeve accepting his penetration, wrapping around his length, caressing him intimately. He wanted her in such a state that the pain of her deflowerment would be quick, her need for him overpowering it. He moved to her throat, suckling on her soft skin as she pleaded with him to take her.

"Not yet…not yet sweet, you aren't there yet," he breathed, "Keep telling me how much you need me." Hermione's arms up to this point had been wrapped around his neck. Her desperation goading her, she slid her hands over his back, feeling the ridges of the scars left from the beatings he received under Voldemort, then continuing downward, grasping at his muscled buttocks as they flexed against her. The Potions Master groaned as she pulled at him insistently, her hands sliding over the backs of his thighs, then sweeping up again.

"Your body is so strong," she whispered, trying her best to find the words that would make him break and drive into her. "I want to feel your strength, Severus. I want you to possess all of me, make me yours, claim me Severus. I've saved myself twenty-three years for you. I took on that mountain for you. You say you love me. Then show me you love me! Shag me, you bastard!"

Severus groaned against her throat and jerked against her. She had almost made him come. He looked down at her.

"I do love you, Hermione. With everything I am," he panted down at her. He was perspiring now. "I just want…I just want…" his voice faltered, his black eyes full of emotion as he looked down into her heat-filled eyes.

"You want to hear me say it…say I love you too," she gasped up at him.

"Yessss," he hissed.

"I do. Otherwise I wouldn't want you like this," she said.

"Say it, Hermione. Say you love me, damn it," Snape growled at her. "I know you do. I want the words."

He moved against her almost violently now.

"I love you, Severus," she said softly.

"Yesss," he hissed, reaching down between their bodies and positioning himself against her entrance. Without a warning, the Potions Master thrust sharply into her, his thick organ breaking her hymen and sliding deep into her hot, wet body. Hermione let out a short shriek as his length slid into her, filling her completely, then she thrust her hips upward, crying out in pleasure at his penetration.

"Oh yes, Severus…yes baby," Hermione cried, the muggle in her coming out as the wizard claimed her body. She had never felt anything so good.

Snape was speechless for a moment as he throbbed inside her, deeply embedded in her beautiful body.

"Now you're mine," he breathed as he pulled back and thrust his full length into her again, growling as he plunged into her up to his balls. He began to ride her body, giving her long, deep strokes, feeling her legs wrap around his waist, her heels digging into the small of his back as he angled his strokes and rolled his pelvis against her. He locked his mouth to hers and took her possessively, tenderly, taking all she had to give him with restraint, wanting it to be good for her. He would take care of his more ardent needs later. The first time, was her time.

And he was good to Hermione. His soft tongue ravaging her mouth contrasted deliciously with his hardness inside her. His rigid, hungry length stroking in and out of her body after all her waiting and the wanting was pure bliss. Snape was soothing the ache, replacing it with pleasure as he moved fluidly against her, his lean, pale body rippling and flowing on top of hers as he drove into the witch, jerking her gently as he hit bottom over and over. Hermione found if she tilted her hips on his downstroke her pleasure intensified, and he gasped as she applied her newfound knowledge, tightening her sleeve around him as he withdrew, giving him more friction, more contact as he re-entered her repeatedly

Snape pulled his mouth away and looked down at her, his dark eyes blazing.

"Shit, Hermione," the wizard breathed as he increased his power, "I want more of you, witch."

"Oh yes, Severus! Yes!" Hermione groaned arching into his stroke as he plunged deeper inside her, his penetration becoming more intense, more demanding. The more she gave Snape, the more he wanted. She was so beautiful, so passionate, so willing to take him deeper. His slid his hand along her smooth thigh as he buried himself in her wetness

"You want it harder? Faster?" he asked, slipping both his large, pale hands under her buttocks so he could control the movements of her hips and pulling her into his stroke, rotating her hips around him and growling with pleasure as she relinquished control to him, her cries becoming louder. Snape sped up, pumping into her faster as he gripped her buttocks, his face pressed tight against her shoulder, whispering endearments and obscenities into her ear as she gasped his name over and over, driving him into a frenzy of possession.

Lost in passion for Hermione, Snape rolled them both over so she was on top, her legs straddling him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her in place, never missing a stroke as he continued to possess her, burying himself into her tightness, his pale face contorting with lust, pleasure and fulfillment. Now it was Hermione's turn to look down into the face of her lover, her heart swelling at its changing expressions as Snape slaked his need for her. Suddenly the Potions Master stopped thrusting into her, and remained still, his swollen organ throbbing and pulsing inside her, his black eyes fixed on her expectantly.

"More,' she breathed, pulling her body up and pushing down on him, sliding his tool in and out of her body instinctively.

"Yes, that's it Hermione," Snape groaned up at her, "It's your turn to take me,"

Hermione began to thrust herself over his erection, controlling the depth and speed of his penetration. Snape loved this, watching her face as she received him, drinking in the emotions that flickered across her features, her hair falling around her face. He brushed it aside so he could see her clearly.

"Sit up," he hissed, "Ride me."

Hermione lifted herself and leaned back until she was sitting astride him, his organ buried deep inside her. She began to rise and fall on her knees, slipping over his thickness, moaning at the luscious sensation of him parting her soft inner flesh. Snape gripped her waist tightly, lifting her and pulling her back down, helping her to ride him, his black eyes focusing first where their bodies connected, watching her slide over his glistening shaft repeatedly, before they shifted to her bouncing breasts. He grasped one with his pale hand, fondling it and pulling her nipple as his eyes shifted to her face. He had never seen any woman look as lovely as Hermione did now, her moist lips parted in abandon, her amber eyes mere slits as she pierced herself with his member

"You are the most beautiful woman on earth," Snape breathed up at her, thrusting upward as she bore down on him. Hermione opened her eyes fully and looked down at him tenderly, like she had done at the inn, her eyes shining. Snape's heart swelled. He saw love in her eyes, he was certain of it.

"Hermione," he breathed, stopping her and lifting her off him. He slid from under her, not letting her lie down but placing her on her hands and knees and moving behind her, fitting himself between her legs and caressing her back before gripping her waist and entering her from behind in one long, deep stroke, his pelvis resting against her bum. She cried out as he penetrated her, her juices squishing around him.

"Beautiful," he breathed again as he started stroking her hard, ramming into Hermione hungrily, determined to make her orgasm.

"Severus!" she cried out brokenly as he pummeled her, his loins slapping against her quickly in a steady rhythm.

"I'm here, love," he hissed, plunging into her over and over, feeling her shuddering around him. "Let go. Feel me. Feel how much I love you and want you, Hermione," he said, his ardor and stroke increasing…he was losing himself in her.

Hermione was beginning to shriek as her tore into her, gripping her shoulders now, pulling her into him, grunting at the end of every powerful stroke. He was so strong, so hungry…moving in and out of her so hard and fast it was one huge blur of intense pleasure, and something was growing deep inside her, something that needed this kind of possession, and she shrieked his name as she felt herself tightening inside, intense pleasure flowing through her body and every limb, her fingers and toes coiling inward as she approached the pinnacle, Snape pounding into her, driving her closer to release.

"Oh my gods!" she shrieked, "Severus!"

He felt her going over the edge and wrapping his arm around her waist, he leaned over her back and hunched into her frantically, giving her every bit of him he could, pushing her completely into the abyss as she screamed his name and climaxed, her come rolling over him as she clamped down, squeezing his length inside her tightly, her core sucking at him. Snape desperately pressed his hand to the small of her back and barely managed to groan the contraceptive incantation before he released deep inside her hot body with a guttural cry, his balls tightening as his seed tore through him, spouting in great pulsing jets, filling her cavity to overflowing with creamy come. Snape held himself against her quaking body firmly until he emptied every drop of sperm inside her, completing his claim on the Gryffindor witch.

He kissed Hermione's back and shoulders tenderly as he loosened his grip on her waist, and gently moved her hair aside so he could press his lips to her throat, before falling to the side, dragging her down against him, still buried inside her, unwilling to withdraw, to break the connection. But she broke it when she turned in his arms to face him, her amber eyes fixed on his face, her breathing still fast, her heart still pounding in her chest. Snape looked at her a moment, then kissed her with all the passion and emotion he could muster, taking her already labored breath away and making her gasp against his mouth before she managed to pull away.

"I'm going to pass out if you keep kissing me like that," she chided him softly.

"As long as you remain naked and accessible, I'll have no complaints if you do," he replied, rubbing his big nose against hers. She smiled at him and his chest tightened.

"So, how do you like sex?" he asked her silkily, his black eyes glittering.

"It's incredible," she said, her eyes shining up at him.

Snape could have sat up in the bed and crowed. Instead he said, "You're incredible. When will you marry me?"

Hermione looked at him, startled.

"Severus…it's too soon to ask me something like that," she whispered.

"No it's not," he replied, "We both know you are going to marry me. I want you in my chambers every night. Openly. As soon as possible."

"Severus…" Hermione began.

"I swear Hermione, I will fuck an acceptance out of you if I have to," Snape growled.

Hermione burst out laughing.

"That's a horrible thing to say, Severus. Much less do," she chuckled, "An acceptance like that would be given under duress."

"Actually, I don't care what conditions it's given under, my sweet. All that matters to me is that you accept me as your husband," he said soberly, his black eyes meeting hers earnestly.

"Severus, I have no one to compare you to as a lover, but you must think you're pretty damn good to expect me to say I'll marry you after one shag," Hermione said, her eyes twinkling.

The Potions Master looked at her consideringly.

"So how many shags will it take to convince you?" he asked her, shifting a little closer as he started to swell again. He made sure to rest it against Hermione's thigh as it pulsed back to life. "Two? Ten? Fifty? If you don't marry me after fifty shags, Hermione, I'm going to run off with you like a caveman."

Hermione laughed again as Snape studied her. He pressed his erection hard against her thigh and she stopped laughing.

"I thought wizards needed time to recover," she said, frowning slightly.

Snape arched an eyebrow at her.

"We do. But the amount of time varies. In my case, I think I have quite a bit of shagging to do if I'm to get you to agree to be my wife anytime soon. It's best I get started," he said, rolling on top of her quickly, pinning her arms down.

Snape looked down at Hermione, his eyes blazing, and brought her hands together over her head, locking her wrists together with one hand, then reaching between their bodies with the other and grasping his erection. He rubbed the head up and down between her soft, folds, over her core, lubricating it in their mixed juices, making Hermione squeal and arch up against him, her eyes going hot.

"I think you'll find me quite persuasive," he breathed.

---

Hermione was sitting in the study of her mansion doing some spell research when she heard a thunder clap, followed closely by another, then another. She scowled and slipped a marker into the book, stood up and threw open the study door, stalking into the hallway and down towards the main entrance. She looked around, an eyebrow arched. Then she put her hands on her hips.

"All right you three, I heard you. Get out here now! I'm not kidding," she said.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw three shimmers pressed against the far wall, attempting to slip up the hallway.

"Severus, Alphonse, Jeremiah, I see you over there," she said, tapping her foot. "Get over here right now, young men."

Three black-haired, amber-eyed boys suddenly appeared. They were all dressed in blue jeans and t-shirts and splattered with mud. Their heads hung dejectedly as they approached their mother slowly. They lined up in front of her.

Hermione looked at them, frowning.

"Now what have I told you about apparating?" she asked them.

"That we're not supposed to do it," all three boys responded in unison.

"And why aren't you supposed to do it?" she asked them.

"Because we're too young and we might splinch," they said, again in unison. All three of their answers had a singsong quality. They had obviously recited this answer many times over the span of their eight years.

"That's right," Hermione said.

"But Mum," Severus said, his amber eyes looking at her levelly. "We've been apparating since we were five. We've never splinched. Dad said it's because it's in our blood."

"Your father also told you not to apparate either," Hermione said sternly.

"Actually, he told us not to get caught apparating," Alphonse said to Jeremiah in a low, somewhat silky voice, nudging him and smirking. Hermione heard him and sighed. Yes, that sounded exactly like something Severus would say. Very Slytherin advice to his sons.

"And what happened to your clothes?" Hermione asked them, eyeing the mud spatters and pulling out her wand.

"We were digging up some plants to dry out," Jeremiah said, brushing at the spots of dirt on his trousers.

"Yeah, to add to our stores," Alphonse said as Hermione scourgified the three of them. Her eyebrows went up.

"Stores?" she asked.

"Yes, Mum. We have our own Potions stores, like Dad's," Severus said proudly.

Hermione looked at them suspiciously.

"And just where is this Potions stores of yours located?" she asked, slightly miffed she wasn't aware of this.

"Downstairs in the cupboard, next to Dad's storeroom. He knows," Jeremiah said rather stubbornly.

Hermione scowled. She was going to talk to her husband when he came home this evening.

"Exactly what kind of plants were you digging up?" Hermione asked the triplets.

The boys looked at each other, none of them wanting to answer her. Hermione gave them her best "I'm not fooling around" look, and they folded.

"Mandrakes," all three said at once.

"What! Are you three out of your minds! You can be killed harvesting mandrakes! Their screams are lethal! What were you thinking?" Hermione yelled at them, making them wince.

"Mum, we're not that stupid. We cast a silencing spell on them before we pull them up. They only scream a couple of minutes," Severus said. "Dad told us how to do it."

Hermione was going to be a widow. And soon.

Being the only Gryffindor in a house full of prospective Slytherins was really a pain sometimes. Severus was grooming the boys in all the Slytherin ways of thinking. They were smart, secretive and resourceful. Anytime they got in trouble, they invoked the name of their father as if he were a deity of protection.

"I don't care what your father told you. You are all officially on lockdown. Now, up to your rooms and hit the books. I want a foot of parchment on the dangers of harvesting Mandrake Root and another two feet on the dangers of Apparition. Upstairs right now, march," Hermione said pointing to the stairwell.

The boys all skulked off, their hands deep in their pockets.

"I've written so many parchments on the dangers of apparition I can write one word for word by heart," Jeremiah said as they mounted the stairs, Hermione glaring after them.

"You should do what I do," Severus said, brushing his silky black hair out of his eyes, " I save the old ones and just give them to Mum over and over again. I just don't date them."

"Pretty sharp, Severus," Alphonse said, clearly impressed, arching an eyebrow at his brother speculatively.

"I know," Severus said, grinning slightly. All three boys turned on the landing, and checked to see if Hermione was still watching them. She was. They'd escape their rooms later. There were several more mandrakes to collect before they had their quota.

---

Hermione was waiting in the study when Severus apparated home from Hogwarts that evening. He knew immediately she was on the warpath when he kissed her hello, and she accepted the kiss stoically, her lips held so stiffly they felt as if they were made of wood. The Potions Master scoured his brain, trying to figure out what in the world he had done now, and how he was going to placate her. He walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a small drink, then carried it to the armchair and sat down. He took a sip of it, then looked up at his wife. After nine years of marriage and three sons, she was still beautiful, still desirable to him. Especially when her amber eyes flashed at him the way they were now. Although he definitely preferred them flashing at him when he was on top of her.

Hermione walked over and stood in front of her husband.

"Your sons were harvesting mandrake root today," she said heatedly.

Severus looked up at her. He didn't look shocked.

"Did they get a good yield?" he asked her. That was not the right response.

"I don't know if they got a good yield, Severus. The point is that harvesting Mandrake Root is dangerous," she said.

Severus arched an eyebrow at her.

"So how many sons did we lose?" he asked her, taking another sip from his glass, his black eyes sweeping over her as she stood in front of him with her arms folded. She was dressed in a wife beater and sweatpants. She must have been working out before he arrived. She'd be good and limber.

"We didn't lose any sons. That's not the point," she seethed at him.

"So I can assume they safely harvested the roots then?" he asked his wife, his black eyes meeting hers.

Hermione faltered. "Yes, they did," Hermione replied, still angry, "and they said you told them how to do it." Accusation was in her eyes.

Severus sighed.

"Hermione, my sons dig up all kinds of plants. It only made sense to teach them how to identify a mandrake plant, and how to treat it. It was better to tell them, than to let them run across one unprepared. Our sons are not idiots. They have you for a mother," he said. "As long as they know how to harvest the plants, you shouldn't be concerned. I would think you would be more concerned if they didn't know."

Hermione looked at him. Sometimes she hated his logic. Well, he pretty much blew that one out of the water. Ok, one issue down, one to go.

"And they are apparating again," she said, "when I expressly told them not to."

"Did you catch them at it?" Severus asked her, finishing his drink.

"No, but I heard them. Three thunderclaps in quick succession," she replied.

"Good enough. Did you punish them for it?" he asked her.

"Yes," Hermione said, "I always punish them for it. But they don't stop. They don't listen. I want you to talk to them."

Severus looked at her.

"I can talk to them, Hermione, but you have to remember, they are half Lemurian. Trying to keep a Lemurian child from apparating is tantamount to trying to stop a dragon from breathing fire. It's in their blood. Lemurians don't splinch," he said softly, looking up at his angry wife. He felt like doing her.

"But it's against the law, Severus," Hermione said plaintively. "We can get in trouble for it if it's found out. They have to be seventeen to apparate. You know the law."

"They only apparate on our private property, Hermione. They know better than to do it in public. What happens in the privacy of our home is no one's business," he replied, scowling a little. Hermione could be such a stickler sometimes.

"But still Severus, they are British citizens. They have to respect our laws," she said.

Severus sighed.

"Very well, Hermione. I will talk to them," he said eyeing her.

"Good. And this time no Slytherin advice about not getting caught," she said sharply.

Severus smirked.

"As you wish, wife," he replied.

"Thank you, Severus," Hermione said, leaning down to kiss the dark wizard on his cheek. She stood up and started for the study door.

"Wait, Hermione. Where are you going?" he asked her.

"To bed," she replied, looking over her shoulder at him.

Severus stood up and walked over to his wife. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close against him.

"I was hoping you might keep me company for a while. The boys are asleep, are they not?" he said silkily, pressing his lips against her temple and looking down at her, a familiar gleam in his black eyes.

"How much company?" she asked him, knowing what that gleam meant. Her husband was still sexy as hell. "Quick company? Or a long visit?" She felt him hardening against her belly, and became instantly aroused. Severus was a good lover, no matter what kind of "company" they kept.

Hermione had never wanted any other wizard since the night he deflowered her long ago. Albus married them three months later in a small ceremony on the school grounds. The couple was married for a year before Hermione became pregnant. She had been huge. When she delivered, Severus went from joy to amazement then to shock as she birthed three sons in succession. Despite the fact that Hermione herself was an only child, it seemed triplets ran in her family.

They purchased a mansion in the Shropshire area and Hermione began a small custom Spells business that really took off. Severus was still employed at Hogwarts, while he marketed his own potions and both had a nice amount of residuals coming in each month. Neither had to work, but they both enjoyed it. They were setting a good example for their sons as well. Severus, Alphonse and Jeremiah's powers began to manifest at three years of age, the first manifestation being floating house elves. The boys had levitated their babysitters and flown them around the mansion halls as if they were elf-shaped balloons.

Hermione had her hands full trying to teach the boys not to use their powers. She got them under relative control by the age of five. Of course, they still used magic, but did so quite sneakily, in the Slytherin fashion, fully supported by their father. Severus had grown up the same way, and disciplined them properly, teaching them to hide their gifts just as he had.

Severus brought his hands to Hermione's breasts and began to fondle them. He knew she loved that.

She sighed as he said, "Quick or lengthy, I don't mind…as long as we have some kind of visit, wife," and dropped his head to her throat sucking on it gently as he continued caressing her breasts, massaging their fullness and feeling her nipples harden beneath his palms. Hermione began to unbutton his robes. She was an expert at it now, able to undo the fastenings with dispatch. Her hands flew down his robes, pulling them up as she went until it was completely open. He wore his dress shirt and black pants beneath it. Severus shrugged the robe off his shoulders and backed Hermione up against the back of the armchair, leaning her back, pulling up her shirt and latching onto her breasts hungrily with his mouth as he pulled at the string that tied her sweatpants. He was going for the hot and heavy quickie, his breathing becoming harsh as he yanked her sweats down roughly, then working at the fastenings of his trousers, opening them and pulling out his swollen organ. He lifted her legs up over his arms, letting the armchair support her body, pulled her knickers aside and thrust himself inside her hard, making her gasp at the ardor of his penetration.

"Yesss," Severus hissed, staring down at her as he started stroking her hard, jerking his wife over the back of the chair rhythmically as he plunged into her, his hips pistoning between her thighs, his eyes locked to hers as she gasped and moaned.

"I love taking you," he growled, sliding through her wetness deliciously, wrapped in the soft inner folds. "Especially when you greet me pissed off after I've had a hard day. Now I'm having a harder one, Hermione. Harder and better. Can you feel it, wife?" He slammed into her making her cry out.

"You still love me?" he hissed, driving into her.

"Yes, Severus," she groaned.

"You'd better…because I'll never stop loving you," he panted, bending over her and pouring on the power. Hermione started shrieking.

---

Upstairs on the landing, three faces pressed against the polished wooden dowels of the banister, listening to their mother's cries of passion coming from the study.

"They're at it again," Severus said to his brothers, a smirk on his face.

"They're always at it," Jeremiah said, rolling his amber eyes toward the ceiling.

"I used to think Dad was beating her up when I heard her screaming," Alphonse said. "Good thing we found that book that explained what they were doing all the time. I was worried."

"He is beating her up…kind of," Severus said, his amber eyes shifting toward the study door, "but she likes it."

"Think we'll get a sister out of this one?" Jeremiah asked his brothers.

"Well, if we mixed the fertility potion right, it should take. I put in just the right amount of Mandrake Root this time, and been dosing her morning orange juice every day for the past two weeks. Let's just keep our fingers crossed," Alphonse responded.

The boys listened as their mother let out a howl, followed closely by their father's hoarse shout.

"Dad sure sounds funny at the end," Severus commented, scowling a bit

"So does Mum," Jeremiah observed, "We better get out of here. Mum will be coming out looking all starry-eyed. She'd die if she knew we heard them."

"I'm going to tell her one day, when I'm grown up," Severus said, grinning evilly.

His brothers shook their heads at him.

"You're really twisted, Severus," Alphonse said at they walked back toward their bedrooms.

"I know," Severus smirked as they headed for bed.

---

Severus lowered his wife's legs weakly, resting his body against hers as he panted. He pulled Hermione forward and planted a kiss on her lips. Both were covered in perspiration.

"Damn, that was good," he breathed at her.

"It's always good with you, Severus," Hermione replied, her amber eyes still glowing with passion.

He smiled at her.

"Gods, I love you, Hermione," he said, kissing her again. Not only was she a good wife, a good mother and a good lover…she was wonderful for his ego.

"I know," she smirked at him.

---

The three boys sat outside the infirmary, kicking their legs absently, bored to tears with waiting.

"What's taking so long? She's been in there for hours," Jeremiah hissed, plucking at his shirt.

"These things can't be rushed," Alphonse said wisely.

Severus punched him in the shoulder.

"How do you know?" he asked.

Alphonse looked at Severus reproachfully. "Because I researched it, that's how."

Severus snorted. "You're as bad as Mum is," he griped.

Suddenly the door to the infirmary opened, and their father walked out. He looked like he had been in a fight. His eyes were all red, and his hair was stuck to his head with perspiration. He looked a little gray too.

"I'll never get used to that," he muttered, then he looked at his sons.

"Well boys, you have a new baby sister. Her name is Damascus, and she's beautiful. She has your mother's hair and it looks like she will have my eyes. Thankfully, once again my nose has not been passed on to my progeny," he said, smiling at his sons as they high-fived each other.

"That's really great Dad!" the boys said, jumping up out of their seats.

"When can we see her?" Severus asked excitedly.

"Now," their father replied, "but you have to be quiet. Your mother is very tired."

All three boys nodded and followed their father in. They walked through the empty infirmary. Madame Pomfrey was standing by Hermione's bedside, smiling down at the witch and the bundle she held in her arms.

"She's absolutely beautiful, Hermione," the healer gushed.

"She is, isn't she?" Hermione replied, looking at her newborn daughter. Damascus sneezed.

"Hi Mum," three voices piped. Hermione looked up and her eyes softened as she drank in the sight of her boys.

"Hi boys," she responded, "Come see your new sister." She held the baby out so they could take a good look at her.

"She's a lot more wrinkly than I expected," Alphonse said, looking at the newborn critically before Severus elbowed him in the ribs.

"She looks like she's supposed to look," he hissed at his brother, then looked at his baby sister, softness in his eyes. "Hi Damascus, I'm your big brother Severus. You're going to have a great time with me."

"He's one of your big brothers," Jeremiah cut in, "You have three, and all of us will look out for you."

The baby gurgled.

"She likes me!" Jeremiah said joyfully.

"She was just making baby noises. She doesn't like anybody but Mum right now. She has the milk," Alphonse said. "She won't start liking us until she's like three months old and can tell differences and stuff."

"But we all look alike. How will she be able to tell the difference?" Jeremiah said.

"Don't be stupid. We don't act alike. She'll be able to tell. She's bound to be smart. She looks just like Mum. She's probably is intelligent like her too," Severus said, staring at his sister with a smile on her face.

Jeremiah studied the baby.

"She's going to boss us around, just like Mum does Dad," he said.

"Mum doesn't boss Dad around. He just lets her think she does to keep the peace," Severus said, then covered his mouth as he realized his mother heard him. Hermione raised her eyebrows at her son, then smiled.

"Dad does what Mum wants because he loves her," Alphonse said sagely, "and if he didn't, she probably wouldn't let him…"

He never got a chance to finish the sentence because two sets of pointy elbows hit him in the ribs.

Hermione and Severus looked at each other over the boys' heads, Hermione blushing a little and Severus' eyes looking a little hot. She'd never realized just how much her boys knew about her and Severus' private relationship. They needed to make sure to use the silencing spell whenever they had sex from now on. She looked down at her daughter.

Damascus had been quite a surprise. Hermione was taking precautions. She didn't know what went wrong. But Severus had been delighted she was pregnant again. He was a bit relieved when she didn't have another set of triplets however.

"All right boys," he said, "Time to let your mother rest. She'll be home tomorrow," he said.

The boys each leaned carefully over the baby and kissed Hermione goodbye, then followed their father out into the hallway. He would take them home and return to the infirmary. As they walked through the halls of Hogwarts, Severus looked down at them, his eyebrow arched.

"Boys, is there something you need to tell me?" he asked them. They looked up at him, perplexed.

"About your baby sister?" the Potions Master added, his black eyes glittering.

The three boys swallowed. Dad knew.

"Um…well. We sort of helped her along," Severus admitted.

"With a fertility potion using Mandrake Root," his father replied.

"Yes," all three boys said in unison.

"How did you know?" Jeremiah asked him, curious. They had been so careful.

"I took a sip of your mother's orange juice one morning. Her sense of taste is not acute as mine. I recognized the potion immediately. You brewed it yourselves?" he asked them, studying the boys thoughtfully.

"Yes sir," they answered. What was he going to do to them?

"Quite an accomplishment for eight year olds. A very Slytherin act as well. I take it you wanted a baby sister, because of how you brewed it." Snape said.

The boys nodded. Young Severus looked up at him.

"If you knew we were spiking Mum's orange juice, why didn't you say anything?" he asked his father.

Severus stopped walking and lifted an eyebrow at his sons.

"Well, in this case your desire coincided with mine. You see, I wanted a daughter as well," he said, giving them a small conspiratorial grin.

"We see," they replied in unison, smirking back at him.

"Are you going to tell Mum?" Jeremiah asked him, his amber eyes worried.

"No," Severus replied, "And if you are wise, boys, you won't tell her either. At least not until your sister is full grown and you live elsewhere."

The boys nodded, understanding completely. Their mother would kill them, or at least hex them. She'd been known to do that from time to time.

Severus began walking again, his hands clasped behind his back as he strode toward the main doors, his sons beside him. The boys also clasped their hands behind their backs, looking thoughtful.

All four Snapes strode out of Hogwarts, and across the grounds, headed for home and whatever new adventures life held in store for them.

THE END

---

A/N: And that is the end of "The Ring" I hope you enjoyed it. I know I skipped ahead a few years, but that's where the keyboard led me. The young Snape triplets are something else, aren't they? Lol. Maybe one day I will write about them. Please leave a final review.