This chapter is all about togetherness. Hermione and Severus find themselves with no responsibilities, no immediate concerns and plenty of time on their hands. Lots of time for talking, thinking and living ... and all that that involves.

Enjoy. xxx


They woke late the next day, and Hermione was thrilled to see he had had the foresight to order a room-service breakfast. It arrived when Severus was in the bathroom and Hermione quickly slipped the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the outside of the door after the steward had left.

She pushed the tray over beside the bed and climbed back in, buttering a piece of toast. He came out of the bathroom and saw it had arrived. "Ah, excellent."

"Thank you for sorting this. I don't think I have the energy to go downstairs."

"I doubted somehow that you would." He glanced across at her. "Don't make crumbs."

She smiled to herself. Domesticity was setting in in all its complexity. Even his little foibles, of which she was sure he had many, delighted her. She briefly wondered if she would feel the same way about them after five years.

As she ate, careful not to make any mess at all, she smiled over at him. "Severus, this is perfect. It feels to me that you have done this sort of thing before."

He looked confused. "What sort of thing?"

"Taking a woman to a hotel for the weekend."

A glimpse of his old sneer passed across his face. "I can assure you that has never been the case. This is the first time ever."

She smiled tenderly. "Well, you're very good at it."

"Well, it's hardly like making the Wolfsbane potion for the first time is it? All it requires is a simple reservation. And I have stayed in hotels alone before, on numerous occasions, both wizarding and muggle."

"One of the perks of working for the Dark Lord?" she inquired, trying to sound as humorous as possible.

He shot her a cold look. She held his eyes and raised her eyebrows, not afraid to get him to talk about that time of his life.

"I would hardly call them perks."

"And all those women?" Another cold look. "However you see that time, I suppose I at least owe them something. You're bloody good, Severus."

His tense features softened a little and he looked down. Hermione smiled ruefully. She knew men, even the most hardened, could not resist their sexual egos being stroked.

He continued more calmly. "I told you. That was all a long time ago. And there was never any emotional attachment."

"Not with any?"

"Not one." He looked up at her. "What I feel with you, what you do to me, the way you respond to me ... is a revelation ... an epiphany. It transcends anything I have ever felt before."

She smiled at him. He reached across suddenly and brought his lips crashing onto hers, forcing her mouth apart. She moaned with sudden need into him and allowed his tongue to search desperately within her. The crockery on the bed clattered loudly and they broke apart necessarily. "Oops," said Hermione. "Crumbs."

He smiled at her and with a wave of his wand had cleared the bed of all sign of the breakfast.

Severus drew her into him and she lay on his chest, running her fingers up his torso.

"But you, Miss Granger ... you are quite skilled yourself, especially for someone so young. I suppose a brilliant and famous young witch can take her pick of the most eligible ... and ineligible for that matter ... young wizards out there."

She laughed out loud. "Hardly! Believe me. I'm not sure where this supposed skill came from. I told you - it's just you ... you inspire me."

"Don't become sentimental, now." He was teasing, but then changed his tone quickly. "But ... have there been many?"

He sounded slightly nervous, but clearly wanted to know. She looked at him curiously before replying.

"No ... no, of course not. I'm not the sort of person who would sleep around. I don't need to tell you that, do I? I was still a virgin until after the war, although I admit, I'd done other things ... everything but, I suppose you could say. But, you know, I was really just too busy to think about it, and I wasn't ready. I wanted to be certain I was doing the right thing. I thought I was with Ron, and I don't regret it, but obviously that didn't work out. We only had a fully physical relationship for a couple of months. Then when we split up, I saw someone else a handful of times, but it was so wrong ... that became clear quite soon. He was a reporter for the Daily Prophet. He's moved to America now. And there was a one-night stand after I'd been out with my friends once. Not my finest hour, but, you know ... we all make mistakes. I've never seen him again, never will I hope. So there we are ... three."

He had been listening quietly. She wondered how he had taken it, and glanced up at him. He was staring straight ahead, then he spoke, quite calmly, but with a tinge of surprise lacing his voice, "That's not bad for someone who was still a virgin a few months ago."

She giggled into his chest, then looked up at him more seriously. "But not one ... not one ... was a patch on you ... god no, I mean ... what we have transcends anything I thought possible. Like you said. You have been a revelation."

He at last allowed himself to smile. He had clearly needed to have that conversation, and it seemed to her that it was a turning point in his own self-belief that he had asked and listened so freely.

They settled quietly again. She continued to run her fingers up and down his chest, lightly touching the many scars and abrasions she had become so familiar with.

"You have suffered greatly, haven't you?"

He inhaled deeply. "At times, there was considerable ... discomfort."

"Were most of these at Voldemort's hand?"

"Most."

"Why?"

"That is how he exercised control."

"But he wasn't controlling you."

"No, but I had to let him think he was."

"What warranted these?"

He laughed derisively. "Anything. The slightest hint of criticism, a failed undertaking, normally through no fault of one's own ... boredom, a whim ..."

"And did you ..."

"What?"

"Did you have to inflict pain on others?"

He paused momentarily before answering flatly, "Many times."

She fell silent. She wanted to ask how he felt about that, but feared the answer.

He looked down at her, searching her eyes. His features had tensed again. She held his gaze and tried to alleviate some of the pain the memories had clearly dredged up.

"Let me taste you."

She was surprised by his words. Her expression clearly reflected her confusion. He continued.

"The taste of you helps me forget."

He leant down to kiss her tenderly before pulling the bedclothes back and kissing down over her breasts, slowly, nipping, sucking as he went, down over her smooth flat belly. His hand parted her thighs, which fell open easily for him. A long finger swept up, finding her wet and pliant. She closed her eyes and arched off the bed towards him, desire consuming her quickly and helplessly.

He kissed over the neat hairs at the apex of her thighs and she felt him breathe onto her, evaporating some of the wetness he found there. Then another sensation, warm, firm and moist flitting into her to take in her juices, then stroking languidly up towards her swollen bud. She jerked a little and his hand came up to press on her belly and hold her down. She breathed in sharply, trying to focus on prolonging her pleasure for as long as possible. Glancing down, she saw his black head buried between her legs, sucking her in leisurely but determinedly.

His tongue was joined by a finger which quested in, stroking her walls, drawing out further pleasure. The knot in her belly twisted and a tingle started to spread over her flesh. For his sake, she wanted to last as long as possible, but his tongue, sucking, laving, probing was almost too much. Her clit throbbed and swelled under his touch, and she knew her passivity would not last much longer. Then just when she thought she could stand no more, she felt something else; something she had felt only once before, at the back of his classroom with the whole class working away before them. He had put a finger up her arse.

Her eyes shot open. God, that felt good. It was not something that she had ever been curious about before, but now that it was happening, as that first time, she wondered why she hadn't. His finger was not large enough to hurt, but stroked in and out of that deliciously tight and sensitive passage so sublimely she could not stop herself groaning loudly with delight and pushing onto it again.

She was suddenly so focused on the feeling there, that she had ignored the sensation to her clit for a while. And then, more, another finger had joined the first. This time it was accompanied by slight discomfort, as her muscles stretched to accommodate it, but still she registered it only as the deepest most pleasurable sensation. She continued to moan and press against his fingers. He moved them rhythmically but tenderly in and out of her arse, each push and release bringing her untold delight.

Then his tongue reapplied itself to its task.

"Oh god ... oh god ... too good ... too good ... don't stop ... please ... don't stop ..."

He did not.

His tongue was swirling hard around her clit now, while his fingers were still moving rhythmically within her. He encircled the ripe bud fully one final time and sucked hard, his tongue sweeping over it at the same time.

She gasped in. Her eyes flew open and her body froze. Then she shattered around him, pleasure heaving through her over and over. Words were beyond her, and she merely let out a groan of deepest rapture, reflected in her body, which refused to remain stationary, despite his attempts to press it into the bed. She jerked uncontrollably for some time, until the last droplet of pleasure had escaped her, and he had drunk it all in, in long soul-saving gulps.

When at last she had recovered, she lay gasping for breath for some time. Eventually she regained the power of speech, although only in the crudest terms. "Fucking ... fucking hell. How did you do that? How did you fucking do that?"

"Eloquent as ever, Miss Granger," he drawled.

"I don't care ... I can't ... I can't think ..." She managed to sit up and pull his head up towards her, kissing him deeply in grateful appreciation, tasting herself strongly on his mouth. She fell down onto the bed again. "Oh god, oh my god, I love you ... I love you so fucking much."

He smiled to himself before lying down beside her and pulling her in close once again.

"You know, I was dreading the end of term, when I would have to leave you. But now, I can't wait for it, to get away together. If every day is half as good as this ..."

"I may struggle to find work you know."

"You said that before. I don't know why. You're brilliant, efficient, organised; what more does an employer want?"

"Someone who wasn't one of Voldemort's Death Eaters."

"I think you've fully vindicated your reputation by now. You could do any number of things. And ... you'll be with me ... I may be able to help."

"I told you before - I will not be beholden to you."

"I don't mean financially. I mean in terms of reputation, reference, that sort of thing."

He humphed slightly.

"Anyway, you could sell your house. That would support you until you find work."

He looked down at her with admiration. "It is almost obscene for a woman of your youth to be so ridiculously wise and sensible."

She giggled a little and buried her head in his chest again. She continued to let her hands run over his body. Eventually they came to rest on a large scar on his left forearm. He flinched slightly as her fingertips ran over it.

"Sorry," she murmured with concern.

"No. I'm sorry. I like your touch – it was an instinctive reaction."

"Is that where ...?"

"Yes."

"How did you get rid of it?"

"I do not know really. It had gone before I regained consciousness. But, as with the others, I believe it simply disappeared after he was finally defeated. Although I unfortunately still have the visible memory."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not the body."

She moved over, and planted tender kisses around the area where the Dark Mark had been, finally allowing her lips to play lightly over the scar itself. No detail of the skull and snake were discernible, but the outline of the shape could still be made out.

Her lips soothed and caressed it, her tongue occasionally flitting over the rough flesh. He initially drew in a sharp breath, but his breathing steadied as she continued.

At length she moved away, back to his torso, then down, down until she found what she was seeking. He rose magnificently up to her, large and vibrant. She looked at him with clear appreciation before raising her mouth above the tip, then slowly descending, sucking her lips in hard as she took him deeper and deeper into her mouth and throat. She felt him swell further within her and heard a shuddering moan above her. Cupping his sac, she slowly pulled hard all the way up again, before releasing him with a gasp of much needed air.

She grinned up at him. He had raised himself up on the pillow to gaze down at her. She let her tongue flick visibly out, teasing him a little before swirling around the head, running it into his slit, then down over the long shaft. Her hand grabbed him lower down his length and she took the smooth round head in her lips, closing her eyes and relishing the taste and feel of it. Then not letting go she moved down again, until she had taken him fully. He groaned out in sheer delight and pushed up, although there was nothing left of him to be taken in.

Her talent at this staggered him. Despite all the women of debatable repute he had encountered in the past, none had had the capacity or skill that she had. He felt her throat constricting around him and almost sobbed with pleasure. Then she pulled her tight hot lips over his length, finally letting him pop out at the end. She inhaled with a laugh of delight.

"God, I'm in thrall to your cock. I can't get enough of it. I adore and worship it."

With that she set to proving her point. Her head moved rapidly now, and he watched her with awe as he saw her mouth and throat muscles drawing him ever further towards ecstasy. It did not take much longer for his balls to tighten irreversibly. And unable to prevent his hand from throwing itself onto her head and holding her there, he came exultantly, bursting into her throat. It was only then that she was forced to pull up a little, to prevent the copious amounts of thick white liquid from overwhelming her. Still, she swallowed hungrily, delighting in the manifestation of his pleasure and her ability to draw it from him.

Afterwards, he lay prone on the bed, his limbs splayed out to the sides, unable to move or speak, just as she had been earlier. After a time, he was able to form words. "You are ... incredible. Shame you can't take a NEWT in that particular skill, you would most certainly receive an Outstanding."

She giggled.

He smiled blearily. "How do you do it? I've never known anything like it."

"I told you. You inspire me. I've never been like that with anyone else, you know. Far from it. I mean, I knew I was OK at it, but, never really could be arsed to do it, to be honest. I just want you, in every way I can get you."

"You are more than welcome to me, anytime you like," he smirked.

She kissed him lightly then lay down and they both fell into a deep sleep.

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Hermione awoke with a start a while later, and opened her eyes suddenly to see him looking across at her. She gasped in with surprise.

"Sorry. Did I startle you?"

She was bewildered and a little distressed. "I was dreaming about you."

"Good or bad?"

"I don't know. It was bit upsetting ... disturbing. You were in the Forbidden Forest. You were lost, trying to find your way out. I was trying to get to you, to help you, guide you, but you kept turning a corner and I lost sight of you. I kept calling your name but my voice just didn't travel to you. It was so frustrating."

"I do not get lost in the Forest," he replied snidely.

"I know; it was just a dream. Anyway, it didn't end there. I kept walking, always trying to catch up with you. It shifted to Diagon Alley, but still, you kept walking, always just out of reach, out of earshot. And again, I was suddenly in a maze, you know, like in the garden of an old house, and you were turning corners ahead of me. And then suddenly, it opened out in the middle into a large garden, just a normal nice garden with a lawn, like my garden at home as a child, but still with the tall hedges around. And you were there and you ... were all of a sudden naked. You stopped at last – there was nowhere else for you to go and you turned to me. You looked surprised to see me ... and then I woke up."

He stroked her arm reassuringly. "It was just a dream. You're beginning to sound like Trelawney."

She smiled and nestled into him. "I know. Anyway, at least I found you in the end."

"Naked?" he asked sardonically.

"Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way," she smirked, using humour to dispel the unease wrought by the dream. But she could not dismiss it completely and looked up at him for reassurance.

They kissed again. Her mind at last cleared. His tongue was soothing her, caressing away her anxieties. The kiss deepened. They did not think they would ever stop, but her hand quested down and she felt him hard again. Her core ached. Through all the pleasure they had given and received that morning, he had not been inside her all day.

She sat up, drawing her leg over him and placing herself over his tip. He held her hips and guided her down onto him, unable to take his eyes off the sight of him disappearing into her. She sank down onto him fully, relishing the feel of him pushing up onto her cervix. A long moan was drawn from them both. He pushed her hips back up and she rose until he was almost fully out, then down she sank again, allowing him to stretch her tight walls exquisitely slowly. Her head fell back and she groaned out in rapture.

Her breasts swayed a little as she moved and he removed his hands from his hips to cup them tenderly, enjoying the heaviness in his palms. She moaned ever more and leaned forward a little. One of her hands came to his and moved his fingers to her nipple. He knew what she wanted and rubbed lightly over them both, delighting in seeing the dark pink buds of flesh rise to firm points before him.

She continued to rise and fall on him and he grunted as she sank down, encasing and squeezing his rigid shaft tightly as she did so. He focused on that, and his fingers stopped their ministrations for a moment. Instantly, her hands were back guiding them.

"More. Harder." Her voice was low and desperate.

He complied, taking the nipples between thumb and forefinger and pinching hard, not releasing them. He watched in awe as her eyes closed in bliss and she gasped in as the pain coursed through her body, translating only as sensation and heightening the pleasure to her core. She stopped moving for a moment and her breathing paused as she focused on the feelings emanating from her agonised breasts.

She threw her head over to look at him, her face breaking into a delirious smile. The circle of feeling was complete, through his member inside her and his hands gripping her breasts. Pain and pleasure became indistinct from each other and she knew it only as ecstatic feeling. She bit her lip, focusing on what he was drawing from her and breathed out, "So good ... so good."

She at last sighed out in perfect satisfaction and he released her nipples. She started moving again.

"How can you let me do that to you?"

"What?" she muttered, barely understanding.

"Pinch you so hard. Surely it hurts deeply."

"Yes." She looked down at him and spoke plainly. "But sometimes pain is good."

He did not reply. They were more alike than he had realised.

She rose and fell more desperately now, bringing herself and him closer to their final release. When he knew she was nearly there, his hands once more came up to twist and squeeze her nipples. She cried out through a smile, and with that came hard around him, her body shuddering as it struggled to remain upright. She leaned back to support herself and let the pleasure wash through her. She pulsed hard around his cock buried deep inside her and it was all he needed. He pushed up as far as he could go into her and felt himself explode. He cried out louder than she had ever heard him before and she felt his own limbs shaking uncontrollably under her.

Hermione collapsed on top of him, pushing her hair out of her face as she lay her head on his chest. He threw an arm over her and pinned her to him. Again, speech was impossible.

Later, she lay propped up in bed while he rested his head in her lap. He glanced up at her nipples, still red and angry from their treatment of earlier. He felt guilty.

"Are they sore?"

"Yes. I like it. It is a reminder of you."

"I don't like hurting you."

She looked down and spoke firmly. "I love you for your complexity, Severus. I am complex too. I have been through a lot. There is no black and white, as you well know. I want all you are, all you can give me. You may be surprised by what that is. So be it. Nothing is straightforward."

He looked at her with clear admiration for a moment before raising himself so that his mouth was at her breast. He gently took one of the tormented nipples in his mouth, licking and soothing it with his tongue. She ran her fingers through his hair and stroked him. He stayed there for an age, sucking, tasting, nuzzling. She knew it was his weakness. She was only too happy to indulge him.

"I could stay at your breast forever."

"I noticed."

"Do you mind?" he asked as his hand quested down between her thighs.

"No. Especially not if you do that as well."

He continued to suckle deliriously while his fingers worked their way inside and along her, finding her clit once again primed for pleasure. It was a familiar position for them, and brought great comfort and delight to both. It was not long before she came long and deep over his fingers as his mouth pulled her nipple hard into it. At length, they both lay back down.

They were silent for a while, simply lying in the thin November light, listening to the other breathe. She felt more connected to him than she could ever remember. His heart beat steadily into her head and their breathing steadied into synchronicity.

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

"You know once, we talked about when you were bitten, and what happened after that."

"Yes."

"You said some things. So much has happened since then, I had almost forgotten. You said you were essentially dead because you no longer had any meaning, any purpose. Do you remember?"

"Yes."

"But, you said something else, that something pulled you back. What did you mean by that?"

He was silent for a long while, seemingly deep in thought. "I am not sure."

She glanced up at him. "You must remember something to have said it."

"I have tried, but ... it is too indistinct. However ... I know it involved another person."

She looked away, almost fearful. He lifted her head up to his. "I think that person was you."

She lowered her gaze. Severus suddenly seemed galvanised by her desire to talk and the harmony which existed between them. He raised himself up a little, curious as to her words and their hazy understanding of what had happened.

"Hermione. I do not know how or why, but here, inside ...." He took her hand and brought it up to rest over his heart. "I came back. What, Hermione? What was it?"

She sighed deeply. So much had happened between them, that the time before they had come together had started to seem irrelevant to her. She had never before thought it significant, but now, as they lay together, so at peace, as one, she realised she had been foolish, and may have denied him something he clearly thought important.

"I have never spoken to you about that time very much. It has always been very private to me. I never thought you would want to know. In any case, what happened did not seem significant."

He was completely still and silent for an age, and she thought he would not persist. But his chest started to rise and fall rapidly beneath her and she detected a distinct quickening of his heartbeat. Then at last he spoke, so low as to be almost inaudible.

"What happened?" His voice had taken on an otherworldly quality, but his insistence was still present. She looked up and saw anxious determination on his face.

She started. "I came to see you, when they brought your body back to Hogwarts and after Harry had told me about your ... memories. I came to see you. It was a long time after you had been bitten, a long time after you had been examined. No-one detected any life in you, Severus. And ... I came to see you." She shrugged slightly, as if trying to dismiss the relevance of her statement.

"Why?"

She was suddenly struck with a realisation, for the first time. Her eyes instantly filled with tears, and she gasped her truth out. "To apologise."

He looked back at her, studying her face intently. "Tell me."

She looked at him blankly for a moment. He reiterated it firmly. "Tell me what you did."

"I ... I ... just told you ... I was wrong ... I was wrong about you ... and I said sorry."

He was still staring at her fixedly. "Go on."

"What do you mean? That's all."

"No. What else?"

"I don't understand. That is why I was there ... to say sorry."

"You did something. What did you do?" His voice was so insistent it almost scared her. She thought back, her mind struggling at first to recall the detail. But she did. She shut her eyes tight and saw it; saw herself standing over his prone, lifeless body, so cold and pale in the white light of the harsh room they had set up as a morgue. She saw herself, so close to him, looking down with such remorse, shame and sorrow on her face. She was standing, and then ...

"I ... I kissed you. I brushed your hair back with my hand, leant down to you ... and ... I kissed your forehead."

All tension and anxiety suddenly vanished from Severus' face and he looked as if he had had a moment of epiphany, as indeed he had.

"Yes," he breathed out in awed revelation.

Hermione was utterly bewildered. He looked intently at her as before, but his face was now open and giving.

"It was you," he looked at her in wonder. "You gave me meaning."

Now it was her turn to be silent as the nature of their mutual realisation sank in. She lay back onto him and breathed in. He felt his chest grow wet with her tears. Silence wrapped around them both, pushing all else away.

Then she heard herself speaking, recalling something he had said during a prior moment of what she thought was pleasured delirium. "You have said that before; 'It was you.' Is that what you meant? I gave you meaning?"

He continued in hushed reverence. "I knew it. I knew it somehow, although I did not understand how, and did not want to admit it. I felt your presence even in the darkness, even in the depths, but I needed something to cling onto, to pull me out. De profundis. Your apology, your faith in me, manifesting itself through physical contact ... through a kiss ... I grabbed onto it."

All she could do was stare at him, tears brimming out of her eyes. "Promise me you won't let go."

He stared back, his brows furrowed in wonder, a mist washing over his eyes too. "How can I? How can I ever?"

He spun her over and kissed her desperately, possessing her, encompassing her. He kissed away her tears almost painfully then returned to her mouth, tearing it open, plundering it with his tongue. Then she felt him between her legs, harder than ever, seeking his release. Immediately he thrust fully with a deep grunt of urgency. She was jolted up the bed with her own cry of satisfaction. Never had she felt so full. He moved rapidly, as if time was limited, and he would somehow lose her if he did not hurry. He held her gaze, his black eyes burning into hers.

Her soul swelled with an equal satisfaction to that being felt by her body and this transmitted itself to her muscles, poised for release. He was still moving hard, rubbing against her ripe clit with each thrust. Her body felt so complete that she gave up her pleasure faster than ever before. She cried out with wonder as it heaved its way through her, feeling her muscles pulsing around his hard shaft so deep within. He paused in his movements, although she knew he had not yet come.

He had not taken his eyes from hers and they sought within her like never before. His mouth moved and words came to her. But they were transmitted not from his lips alone, but through his eyes, his body, his very soul.

"I love you."

She absorbed them, let them sink through her, deep inside. But it was almost too much for her own fragile body and soul to comprehend. She swallowed hard. More tears fell, and it was only when he started moving again, that she remembered to breathe. He came only a few moments later with a heaving groan of complete fulfilment, his pleasure coming in long bursts, his eyes still fixed into hers. He held himself within her fully until the spasms finally left his body.

They lay afterwards, not speaking, just being.

Then some time later, it may have been minutes, it may have been hours, they neither knew nor cared, he spoke. "I have never said that to anyone in my entire life."

Hermione planted a tender kiss on his chest. She looked at him with complete acceptance for a long time, then finally she smiled sweetly up at him and spoke. "In that case, you had better practise."

He chuckled a little. She was doing to him as he had done to her, although he sensed it was just as much for reassurance on her part as it had been on his.

"I love you." He enjoyed the sound of it as much as she did and could not help a broad smile breaking out over his face. He looked down at her. "Your turn."

She grinned up at him. "I love you too."

"So be it," he said, reaching down for another kiss, before drawling deep, "How very convenient, Miss Granger."


So be it indeed.

Hope you enjoyed this one. I enjoyed writing it. xxx