A week had passed since their passionate encounter in his classroom and Severus was feeling frustrated. The almost violent explosion of their need had left him feeling both bewildered and embarrassed at the loss of his otherwise impeccable self control. But it had been amazing all the same, even now he could feel his groin begin to react at the mere memory of the sounds she had made and her evident passion for him.
It seemed incredible to him that Hermione seemed to want him as much as he wanted her. He had never in his life been as happy as he had been in the last week, despite their enforced separation. Severus had begun the term in a state of numbness. Aside from his ever present sense of guilt, he hadn't been able to feel anything since the end of the war - no joy, no sorrow, no interest. He had been numb to everything and everyone around him, going through each day like an automaton.
Until that pair of chocolate brown eyes had met his own and burned out his numbness, leaving pure sensation behind in their wake.
Even his frustration felt wonderful in comparison to that nothingness.
Severus' thoughts returned to their encounter the week before. After they had calmed down and righted their clothes after coming so spectacularly against each other, they had reluctantly agreed that things had to change. If they were going to survive the next year, they could not continue acting as they had that weekend. No more playing games and no more erotic teasing.
Severus had been so close to saying "fuck it" and taking her back into his chambers to make love to her properly, but the risk was too great. How could he begin this relationship by endangering her grades and risking an addition to his own notoriety? He had already violated the teacher/student boundary in a way which should have been unthinkable, how could he face McGonagall again if he took this any further?
The following week had been tough. Neither could help being constantly aware of the other if they were in each other's vicinity. When their eyes met, Severus still felt the same jolt of intense arousal and longing. His lessons with her were the hardest. To have to pass her by when making his rounds, instead of holding her as every fibre in his being pressed him to do, was physically painful.
They had even agreed to write fewer letters to each other - just a few a week rather than several a day. The more they connected on an intellectual and emotional level, the more their desire for physical closeness grew.
Yes, Severus felt happy for the first time in his life - he had hope, he had something to look forward to, he had Hermione's affection and passion. But he desperately needed something to distract him from his constant desire to be with her.
The opportunity for a distraction arrived in a thoroughly unwelcome form.
...
Hermione sat in her Transfiguration class trying to stop daydreaming about Severus. She needed to focus on what Professor McGonagall was saying. But she couldn't stop her mind wandering back to her phenomenal encounter with Severus the week before. The way he had pushed himself into her, caressed her, panted into her mouth, kept replaying in her mind until she was once again flushed with desire.
This last week had been one of the hardest of her life in terms of self-discipline. While she rationally understood the necessity of minimising their contact, in practice it was much more difficult than she had even anticipated. It was all she could do not to melt into a puddle when listening to his delicious voice lecture in their daily potions lesson.
As Hermione began to fantasise about what would have happened if she had refused to leave that evening, she suddenly felt a sharp twinge in her arm. Rubbing it with her other hand caused her to cry out as her nerve endings revolted against the material of her blouse being rubbed against her skin, and her heart sank as she realised her bout under Bellatrix's cruciatus was about to make its effects known again for the first time since he had arrived back at Hogwarts.
She was about to request to be excused to go to the loo so that she could wait for the twitching to pass there, when her whole body suddenly convulsed and she found herself screaming on the floor of the classroom, the worried faces of her peers gathered around above her. She couldn't think. It had never been this bad before, at least not since the days immediately following her torture, and all Hermione could do was writhe around, trying to escape the unbearable pain flashing through her body and making her limbs twitch in agony.
"Hermione, Hermione!" She could hear Harry calling her, but his voice seemed far away. She felt someone grab her shoulders, and the pain was so acute that she passed out, blissfully losing awareness of the agony and her humiliation.
When she awoke the pain was gone. It was dark, but she could see the white curtains of her bed in the hospital wing moving gently in the light breeze coming from an open window. As she slowly regained consciousness, Hermione became aware that somebody was holding her hand.
"Severus", she sighed, recognising the size and warmth of the hand engulfing hers. Her thumb gently stroked along his as a small smile tugged at her lips. She felt safe.
When she turned to face him she was surprised to see deep worry lines crossing his face. "You should have told me," he reprimanded her quietly. "I could have helped you."
"I'm sorry," she said. "With you, everything felt so new and beautiful, I didn't want to burden you."
"You could never be a burden to me," he confessed quietly, lifting her hand up to his lips to briefly place a kiss there. "I was so worried. When McGonagall told us in the staff room that you had collapsed, I didn't know what to think. I wanted to come to you immediately, but she said you were resting. It would have looked too suspicious, and you were surrounded by your friends. I had to wait." He closed his eyes as if he were still in pain, and Hermione felt her chest constrict in sympathy and sorrow that she had been the cause of his hurt.
"Please, kiss me," she whispered, the space between them suddenly felt unbearable. Severus leaned forward slowly, still holding her hand, pausing to look into her eyes before pressing his lips against hers. She breathed a sigh of relief as warmth spread into her body. His other hand came up to stroke her curls as his lips gently stroked along hers, and Hermione couldn't prevent a tear from slipping out from beneath her closed eyelid.
Severus lifted his face from hers and wiped the tear from her cheek as her eyes opened, his expression worried once again. "You're going to be alright", he said, in an attempt to comfort her.
"It's not that," she said softly, "it's this, it's us. I care about you so much, I can't bear the thought of being apart from you for all this time. I feel like I need you close to me to function."
"I know," Severus said, at a loss for how to respond, his chest tightening at hearing his own feelings expressed in her words again. They sat in silence, still holding hands, simply enjoying being near each other with no need to pretend that there was nothing going on between them.
"I should go, you need to sleep," he sighed eventually, moving as if to get up.
"No, no!" she cried and tugged him close to her again, "please, don't leave. Stay with me, just for tonight." She held the side of her blanket up in invitation, hopefully waiting for his response.
He seemed to consider her for a moment, before sighing in defeat and leaning down to take off his shoes. When he was done, he cast a silencing and a warding spell at the curtains. "I will stay until dawn," he said, before laying down in bed next to her.
"Thank you, Severus," Hermione sighed, laying her head onto his chest and snuggling into his warmth. He put one arm around her, holding her close. She wanted to kiss him again, wanted to reignite their passion from the week before, but even as her hand moved to stroke his chest, her eyes started drooping with heaviness. The attack on her nerves had exhausted her and Hermione was soon fast asleep.
Severus lay awake for a while longer, stroking her hair and staring at the dark ceiling. He had never been in such a position with a woman before, and yet nothing had ever felt more natural. No one had ever simply needed him to comfort them before, and he felt an enormous sense of gratification that Hermione seemed to need him, and only him, in that capacity.
Eventually, her deep, regular breathing and the warmth of her body pulled Severus down to join her in sleep.