So, another step closer to the end of term ...
I know a lot of you are anxiously anticipating the ball, as am I, but there are just a few little things to deal with first. I don't think I'll be spoiling anything by telling you that the ball will be in the next chapter, but I hope you find this one satisfying. I really loved writing it, and I think it contains some important and tender moments. Severus and Hermione have come a long way, but there is a certain nostalgia attached to this chapter, as you will see.
Enjoy.
Despite the spartan surroundings she now found herself in, Hermione was pleased that she was just as happy to wake up in Severus' small single bed as she had been to wake up with him in the luxurious setting of the Edinburgh hotel. As long as she was with him, it dawned on her that it did not matter where they were, and his private rooms had provided them with some of their happiest times.
They lay in the dark of the November morning, languidly caressing each other.
"So," he drawled, "two weeks – ball – one week – exams – one week – the end."
"Sounds about right. Apart from the fact that I would amend your final statement to 'the beginning', not 'the end'."
"Quite right." He smiled at her and leant down for a kiss. "Do not forget to accept the position at the Ministry today. And I will hand in my resignation."
"I'll owl the Ministry after breakfast. But, Severus, there really is no great rush to you resigning, you know. It may be more sensible to put your house on the market first. You could market it in the muggle world and the wizarding world; I'm sure it will appeal to both."
"You haven't seen my house," he drawled sardonically. "I do not wish to return here to teach after Christmas, but as I have not given half a term's notice I will probably have to for at least part of next term anyway. I suppose there is no immediate need to inform Minerva of my decision."
Hermione giggled a little.
"What?" he asked sharply.
"Minerva? I've never thought of her as Minerva. And I haven't heard you ever refer to her as such. You have shifted your perspective, Professor!"
"Don't tease me, Miss Granger."
"The last time I teased you, Professor Snape, I got the impression you rather enjoyed it."
"Hmm ..." he drawled. She had already descended so that her head rested just above the tip of his ever-growing erection. Her tongue flicked out, just about to touch the head, when she stopped and pulled back.
"Actually, we musn't be late for breakfast."
His hand immediately grabbed her hair and plunged her down again, drawling, "On the other hand, one can always last until lunch if necessary."
She smirked up at him and set about her task with relish, encouraged by the ever more satisfied groans of the man above her. With the expert skills of her tongue, lips and hands, he soon came hard into the back of her mouth, his hips rising up to thrust as fully into her as she would allow. Releasing him gently, she brought herself up and swallowed visibly before him. He had propped himself up on his elbows to gaze at her as she went about her task, but on seeing her do that, he fell back with a moan of complete satisfaction.
The saltiness of his cum was even stronger than usual as her first taste of the day, and Hermione derived a strange pleasure from knowing it would linger on her tongue throughout the morning, a constant reminder of him. With that knowledge in mind, she was able to get up, shower and rush off for a quick bite of breakfast. She had Potions that afternoon.
After breakfast she wrote a formal letter on the best piece of parchment she could find, accepting the position at the Ministry. She summoned an owl and sent it straight away. She also perused the Daily Prophet for flats she could rent, most magically concealed, although she wondered if she would prefer a straightforward Muggle dwelling. But she found a few she liked the look of and circled them, intending to ask for details as soon as possible.
Hermione was remarkably focused on her lessons. The looming exams suddenly made their presence felt and she applied herself in good Granger fashion to her work. She supposed that her complete happiness made it easier to concentrate on other matters for a change.
The morning passed easily and after lunch she found herself in the familiar position of walking to the dungeons. Her fellow students were moaning about Snape as usual, and it was Ginny for a change who piped up in his defence. "Well, whatever we think about him, he's a bloody good teacher. I know I'm not taking my NEWTs until the summer, but I think I'd have a pretty good chance of doing well in Potions even if I took it at the end of term like Hermione."
"Yeah, you're right," continued a Gryffindor boy. "No one said you had to be popular to be a good teacher. Anyway, I think he's softened up a bit recently. He must have brewed himself a happy potion. God, he even laughed out loud at supper last night. The whole hall practically choked on their shepherd's pie!"
"Maybe he's got himself a woman. Even Snape must need a good shag from time to time!" laughed another.
Hermione smiled ruefully to herself and caught Ginny's eye. Her friend raised her eyebrows.
"Who'd shag him?!" guffawed another boy.
"Oh, I don't know," said a girl. "There's something about him, you know."
"You are kidding me!?" the boy replied in complete disbelief.
"No, I agree," chipped in another girl. "He's got such a sexy voice, and there's something about that cold, calculating dismissive arrogance which is kind of hot."
"Yeah ... I know what you mean ... God, I thought I was the only one who thought that. He's got a pretty fine body too. I can just imagine undoing all those buttons ..." More and more girls were now extolling the virtues of their Potions Master. The boys looked horrified. There was nothing so intimidating to a male as a seemingly unattractive man who girls found sexy. They fell silent. The girls continued to giggle, even Ginny joined in. Eventually, they turned to Hermione.
"What do you think, Mione? Professor Snape – would you?" They waited for her answer.
She carried on walking, but as she passed them, she shrugged nonchalantly and replied, "Not my type."
With that they had arrived at the classroom. She opened the door with a smile back at them, and walked in.
After the conversation that had just taken place, Hermione thought it wise to sit near the back and placed herself at a table in the most isolated spot she could find. She was slightly disturbed by the girls' sudden declaration of their interest in her lover, but remembered, as with Ginny, that it sometimes only took one person to give credence to an attraction and the feeling spread rapidly through a group. She did not suppose the girls had been lusting after him all year.
Still, she watched them carefully when he stepped out from his rooms. There was a predictable hubbub as the girls turned to each other and giggled a little. Snape had been looking across at Hermione, but on hearing the noise turned sharply to the rest of the class.
"My my ... we are in a good mood today. Let us hope it translates into better results than the muck I have been used to receiving from you."
Hermione smirked to herself. He delivered the introduction with his usual smooth aplomb and thereafter the class set about concocting their potions. Hermione found herself again able to concentrate much more ably than usual. In fact, she was so engrossed in her work, that at one point, she even put her hand up to ask a question, her head still down examining her ingredients, completely forgetting that she had been involved in a relationship with the person she was asking the question of for the last few weeks.
"Professor Snape? Surely it would be more advisable under certain circumstances to substitute beetle wings for caterpillar spines. I mean, certain species of caterpillar can produce disadvantageous side-effects, which can severely hamper the efficiency of the resulting ..." she at last looked up. He was standing right next to her, looking down at her with a strange mixture of annoyance and amusement.
"Oh!" she stopped, her face breaking into a smile as she suddenly remembered what she had done to him when they had parted earlier. "Hello."
"You were saying, Miss Granger?"
She could not stop smiling at him, but noticed he was not returning it.
"Nothing, sir. I just got a bit carried away, that's all. The caterpillars that you have provided for us are indeed the best kind we can use."
"Of course."
"It's just, with my exams coming up and all ... my brain is working overtime."
He moved around her desk and rested one hand on it. Her breathing instantly quickened and her belly twisted. It was a delicious reminder of their earliest illicit moments together. And still they went on. Her skin was aflame with expectation.
He did not immediately move, just leaned into her, his eyes staring at her face, which she resolutely refused to turn towards him. Then she felt it; his long, agile fingers working their way under her skirt at the back. He knew she was wearing no underwear; he had watched her intently as she dressed before him that morning.
She drew in a little gasp of anticipation. His fingers were at her folds, dipping up into her then running leisurely around her clit, making her squirm around them.
He leaned into her further, his mouth a mere breath from her ear. "As I was saying, Miss Granger ... you really are an insufferable know-it-all."
With that he moved his fingers and thrust two up her arse hard and fast. He anticipated her gasp, as at the same time his other hand came up to clamp down firmly on her mouth. "Shhh," he hissed, continuing to move his fingers within her. "Will you be silent?" he asked low. She nodded, her eyes wide with pleasured surprise.
He withdrew his hand from her mouth and moved it to hers, taking her fingers and guiding them over and into his robes. They were so voluminous as to hide a manifold of sins, she had discovered, none so much as now. Her eyes widened further as, guided by his own hand, she came up against his huge naked cock, released from his trousers.
His mouth was still at her ear. "My turn," came the next hiss, the fingers in her arse twisting. She bit down on her lip to prevent any sound escaping.
Her head instinctively darted round to look at him. His eyes flashed at her and he spoke low and urgent, "Miss Granger, the contents of your cauldron are most interesting, are they not? Kindly give them your full attention."
She forced her head round to her pot of bubbling ingredients, all the while starting to move her hand up and down over the length of his rigid shaft. The skin was dry and she hoped he would not mind when she quickly released him to spit copiously onto her palm. She moved it swiftly back to rub immediately over the head and drew a soft moan from him. She moved and twisted her hand over the flesh, amazed at the hardness under her fingers. He soon gave up his own lubrication to her, as pre-cum started to ooze relentlessly out of the tip. She gathered it up, then slid her hand hard down over him, then back up, over the tip, then down again with a further firm twist.
He moaned into her ear again and she heard his words breathed into her, "Is there nothing you cannot do with utter brilliance?"
She merely smirked, but daren't take her eyes from the cauldron.
It took only a few more skilled drags along his cock for him to come. He moved his robes apart and she heard his low grunts as he spurted out. She wondered momentarily where it had all gone, but his next comment answered her question. The fingers were withdrawn from her arse, and he stepped away from her, tucking himself away quickly. He glanced down at her skirt dismissively. "You appear to have something on your skirt, Miss Granger. Please ensure you come to my lessons with clean uniform in future. Clean yourself at once. Five points from Gryffindor." With that he turned and moved to the others.
She felt momentarily affronted, not least because he had denied her an orgasm. But then she remembered all that had been said over the weekend, about control, about need, about love. And there had been many moments when he had denied himself for her. She stared at his back with utter adoration as he moved through the rows of students. In due course, they tested their potions. Hers was, naturally, the most successful once again.
"Bravo, Miss Granger. Once again, you have denied anyone else the opportunity to exhibit their own skills. And all this despite not having beetle wings. Perhaps I am not such a fool as you think!"
She merely grinned. He held her gaze a moment longer than needed, a smile playing around his mouth.
The bell rang. With a moment to spare, Hermione remembered to clean her skirt of the white smears with a charm.
Ginny came up to her. "God, he had it in for you today, didn't he? What was all that about? Lovers' tiff?"
Hermione grinned at her. "Far from it. See you later."
She picked up her books and crossed to her teacher, who was sitting at the desk writing on a parchment, his hand moving fluidly over it, producing a sensual flowing script.
He glanced at the room, but avoided eye-contact with her, ensuring everyone had left. "And you were worried I would relinquish control to you?"
She did not comment on that.
"That was interesting."
"There are few opportunities like that left to us. I thought we should take advantage while we could."
She could not disagree. She watched him filling the parchment with exquisite cursive movements.
"You know I could come just watching you write?"
He smirked and continued to move his hand over the parchment, not looking up. "Would you like to put it to the test?"
"I'd rather you put me over your desk and fucked me."
With that he at last looked up, then almost immediately lowered his head again. She waited. He did not speak again and carried on writing.
She waited.
At last he finished and slowly and deliberately rolled up the parchment and replaced the quill in its holder. Then, carefully moving a few objects off his desk, as if merely tidying after a busy day, he at last stood.
With measured footsteps he walked to her and brought a hand up to push her hair off her shoulders, watching it as it fell behind her. She was breathing so heavily she feared she would hyperventilate. He did not look her in the eye, but his head descended to the part of her neck that he had just cleared of hair and he set about assaulting the tender flesh he found there with his mouth and teeth. Her insides jerked with longing, longing which had started as soon as she had entered his classroom, and been so cruelly teased ever since. His hands came up to grab her waist and he moved her forcibly over towards his desk, backing her against it. She fell across it, knocking objects to the floor in the process. It was almost identical to their first coupling. The memory of that fired her lust so much, she started to grab frantically at his clothing. He pushed her hands away with a grunt of displeasure and responded by ripping at hers instead. He completely destroyed her shirt by tearing both sides down from the shoulders, then tugged her bra off her, breaking the clasp at the back.
Hermione merely laughed triumphantly as her lust was at last addressed.
"Fuck yes, yes ... this is it ... what I want ... you bastard ... keeping me waiting like that ... fuck me now ... fuck me so hard I scream this place down."
He had pulled her skirt down and pushed her legs apart brutally.
His hands fumbled at his buttons and he burst out, swaying up to her. She laughed with delight again on seeing it. "I love your fucking cock. Come into me now. Now! I can't wait any longer. Don't make me wait."
He pulled her forward towards him slightly, drawing a surprised gasp of slight pain from her, then gripping her hips tightly, he thrust, so deep and hard that she was forced back up the desk she had just been pulled down.
"Yes!" It had only been early morning when they had last made love, but Hermione's need was so great it felt like days. She pushed herself up, spurring him on with her desperation. "Move! Move, damn you. I want to feel you filling me, pounding me. Fuck! Don't stop, don't you fucking stop."
He could hardly believe this was the same woman as the one who had earlier been questioning his choice of ingredients so accurately and insightfully (although he would never have admitted it). The contrast in her speech and personality merely fuelled his own desire inexorably. He plunged into her harder than ever, over and over. At last, he could not maintain his silence (it had become increasingly hard to do so with her recently) and groaned out as he felt himself about to burst into her, "Hermione! My love. I love you. I love you." His voice morphed into the deepest groan as he came hard up into her.
"Fuck! I love you too. I love you too, you know I do." She grimaced with pleasure as his cock continued to plough into her again and again. "Oh god, I can feel you ... I can feel you coming into me ... ohh ... god ..." With that she joined him with her own explosion of pleasure. Her limbs disintegrated around her and she shook uncontrollably on the desk, causing more objects to tumble to the floor. By the time their bodies finally came to rest, his desk had been cleared.
"God," she gasped between pants, "if it's going to be as good as that, maybe we shouldn't leave here."
He chuckled a little at her statement before pulling out of her and adjusting his clothing. He turned away. "I can't see you tonight. I have a meeting which will run very late. It is out of the castle and I don't know when I will be back."
"Oh." A pang of disappointment shot through her. "OK." She tried to distract her mind by mending her clothing.
"Don't worry," he looked at her with mild amusement. "It is only Hogwarts business. In London. I just don't want you hanging around waiting for me."
"You know I would wait for you anywhere for as long as it took."
He moved back and kissed her. "I know. But please don't trouble yourself tonight. Besides, Filch is around later. I don't want him causing trouble for you."
She kissed him again. "As you wish. You are, after all, the one in control." She grinned up at him.
"Careful," he drawled, then his face grew more serious. "I'll miss you."
"Me too. Unbelievably."
"I think we've just created enough memories to keep us going for one night, though."
She smiled. "Maybe just one night. I haven't got class tomorrow either."
"Come to me tomorrow night."
"I will always come to you," she grinned.
He smiled back and lent down to kiss her deeply again. She groaned into his mouth as his tongue flitted around her wet warmth. He broke away. "Go now. I won't be able to let you go otherwise. You are too exquisite to part from. Go!"
She did so, reluctantly, but swiftly.
Hermione passed a lonely night. Her mind occasionally flickered with a niggling doubt – had he really gone to London on Hogwarts business? Or was there something else? But she had no reason to doubt the veracity of his words and shook the thoughts from her head.
He was at breakfast the next day and gave her a broad smile as she entered the hall. It stirred her heart so much she had to force herself to sit and not propel herself up onto high table to embrace him. Lessons were becoming increasingly intense as the exams approached, and Hermione found herself in small groups consisting only of those students sitting them in two weeks. The teachers worked them hard, and she was reminded of how much she loved academic work. She threw herself into her studies, confident that in the evenings she could retire to his bed and his body, reenergising for the next day.
That Tuesday night, she had gone to him. He had been waiting for her in his classroom, and rushed to her as soon as she turned the door handle. They were joined before they even got past the first row of desks.
The days began to tick away. Hermione was now focusing more on more on her studies, something that Severus respected and admired. She would often bring her books to the dungeons at night and sit at the desk in his small sitting room, while he sat in the armchair reading. She would become completely absorbed in her work, but when she did glance up, would often find him studying her with a look of complete delight. She would smile and return to her book. Occasionally, he would come over and plant a kiss on her head, comment on something she was studying, normally only to offer a constructive suggestion or improvement, then sit again in quiet contentment. Despite so much energy being expended on her studies, they still ensured that not an evening went by without them making love, always drawing exquisite pleasure out of each other.
Potions class was just as focused on exam preparation as other lessons, although Hermione made sure she always took a seat at the rear of the class and her teacher always spent an extra long time studying her cauldron, standing particularly close to his pupil. Anyone passing may well have heard strange little grunts and moans emerging, but luckily, no one ever did.
After a week, Hermione received an owl back from the Ministry confirming her acceptance of the position and saying how delighted they were with her decision. They would see her for work on the second of January. Hermione had also sent off for details of some flats and booked appointments to go and see them after the end of term, happy that Severus had agreed to come with her on the viewings.
And so it came to a Friday afternoon, and Hermione slowly made her way to the dungeons for the last Potions lesson she would ever have. Despite the knowledge that she and Severus were about to embark on their proper life together, she felt a deep sadness as she entered the classroom for the last time.
She was early, but he was not there. She took the time to wander around, looking carefully at all the jars, tubes and instruments on display. She remembered the first time she had come in, the way she had stuck her hand so far in the air, she thought she may dislocate her shoulder, and had been blatantly ignored by her teacher at every point. She smiled ruefully. She thought about all she had learnt, all the potions she had brewed, nearly all with great success. She thought about all the put-downs, criticisms, insults she had endured under him.
Hermione shut her eyes briefly and saw them on his desk, his body pounding into her for the first time. How had they come to that in only a few months? Did it matter?
She opened her eyes. He was standing beside his desk staring at her. His face was set straight, but she could tell he was struggling to rein in his own emotion.
She could not stop herself from rushing to him. He immediately enveloped her in his arms and pulled her in for a brutal embrace, gripping her head and angling it to plunge his tongue hard into her, in a desperate attempt to sear her onto him. She responded equally, not wanting the moment to end. Hermione could not prevent the tears from falling down her cheeks. He kissed them away. "It's alright. It's alright, my love, my heart ..."
A sob broke through her. "So much, Severus, so much here ... in this room ... I'm alright, I'm sorry, it's just ... so much has happened here. I would be sad anyway, but ..."
"I know ... I know ..." he kissed her again. "I feel it too. I don't know how I can teach this lesson."
But with that they heard voices outside and broke away rapidly. The other students entered, apparently unconcerned with finding Hermione Granger and her Potions Master standing in such close proximity.
They all sat and looked at him. They waited.
Professor Snape usually launched into an eloquent and word-perfect lecture the moment the last student was seated, but on this occasion he stood before his class completely silently.
He was staring at a point on the ground a little ahead of him, a slight frown on his face. No one spoke, unsure what the matter was. Still, they waited. His head raised a little and he met Hermione's eyes. She could do nothing for a moment, and they simply shared each other's desolation, but then, drawing on her deepest resolve, she turned up the corners of her mouth and smiled tenderly at him.
With that he inhaled sharply and spoke. "You are here for your final Potions lesson. I have nothing more to teach you. I have given you all you need to know in order to be more than successful in the exam. The rest is up to you. Whether you succeed or not will depend entirely on your own ability and perspicacity. I am happy to spend this lesson answering any questions or queries you may have."
No one spoke for a while. It was so rare for him to enter into any kind of dialogue with his students. His lessons had always consisted of him lecturing and them listening. They were amazed that he was willing to help them in such an unselfish and, at least for him, generous way.
Slowly, a hand went up and a Ravenclaw boy asked, almost timidly, "Professor Snape, could you please explain the differences occurring in the blood of different species of dragons and which potions each should be used for."
"Of course, Zachary." He started to speak. No one heard the first few sentences as they were all so shocked that he had addressed one of their number by his first name. Hermione smiled to herself. Would it have been so hard for him to have been like this a little more?
By the end of the lesson, Snape was actually sitting on the front of his desk discoursing freely over various points which may occur on the exam. Someone dared make a joke about a silly sounding name of an ingredient and he laughed along with the rest of the class. It was such a strange sound in the classroom, the students felt as if they were somewhere else.
The end of the lesson came. Snape stood and set his face straight again. "That concludes your Potions tuition for your time at Hogwarts School. I hope you will take the knowledge imparted to you here and use it wisely and for the good of all. As for the exam, you have received the best instruction for it as is humanly possible. I wish you all every success. You are dismissed."
The students stood up to leave. They started to head out, but the Ravenclaw boy who had asked the first question turned back to their teacher and approached him. Snape looked at him with confusion. The boy slowly raised his hand towards his professor. Snape looked down at it as if wondering what it was, then slowly lifted his own hand and shook it firmly.
"Thank you, sir. Goodbye for now."
"Goodbye, Zachary," replied his teacher.
One by one, all the other students came up to their Potions Master and shook his hand, thanking him for his teaching over the years. One by one, they left the classroom for the last time. All but one.
Hermione came up to him last. He could hardly look at her, but then moved his eyes to hers quickly. She could tell they were moist. The actions of the others had clearly moved him.
Hermione reached into her bag and brought something out. He looked down at it. She held it over to him. It was an apple.
"What is this?" he asked with bewilderment.
"An apple for the teacher. To say thank you."
He smiled and took the fruit. It was green with a slight red tinge on one side. He held it gently in his palm, rubbing the smooth skin with his fingers.
"Bite it," she said.
He looked up at her, but did as she commanded. She watched him intently as his teeth bit into the crisp flesh. He chewed it and a smile flickered around her mouth.
His eyes darted to hers. She was standing several feet apart from him, but it was suddenly as if she had moved to him and embraced him. He could feel her arms around him, smell her delicious aroma, her hair tickled his face, her lips kissed his neck. He felt completely at peace and loved, as he did at their most tender and intimate moments. He inhaled in wonder and looked across at her. She had not moved. There was at least three feet between them.
She was smiling enigmatically at him. "Just a little reminder of me, for the hopefully rare occasions when I cannot be with you."
"How ...?"
"I have enchanted it to contain a little of me. When you bite it, it will impart my spirit, and a little of my physical presence to you. It will never decay or be finished. Look."
He glanced down at the fruit in his hand. The bite he had taken from it had vanished and it had resealed into a complete apple once again. He smiled in wonder.
"Thank you. It is perfect. You really are a very very clever witch."
"I have been well taught."
He smiled then turned away from her. He reached under some papers on his desk and brought out a small rectangular passage wrapped in brown paper. "I have something for you too."
"Severus ..." she began, but he was holding the object out insistently. She took it and opened the paper.
Inside was a small, battered book; a manuscript of some kind, clearly ancient. She carefully opened it. Inside was copious writing, diagrams, lists, instructions, all in a small, meticulous hand; the hand of someone with a pinsharp mind.
She gasped in wonder. "What is it?"
"It is the notebook of Nicolas Flamel. Those are some of his original writings on his earliest discoveries and potions."
She could only gape and held the object in front of her with careful reverence. "But ... how did you ...?"
"An old acquaintance of mine knew of its existence and managed to procure it for me. That is where I went the other day when I told you I had a meeting on Hogwarts business. In reality I went to get this. I am sorry I had to lie about where I was going. I hope under the circumstances, you will forgive me."
"Forgive you!? Severus, it is ... more than I could ever have hoped or expected. Thank you, thank you so much."
She rushed over and kissed him deeply.
"There will be many more gifts, but that is to say thank you for all you have given me in your time here."
She laughed a little. "Three months ago, I would never have thought it possible that you would be saying that to me at this stage."
"A lot can happen in three months."
"Apparently so."
They kissed again, not wanting the moment to end. "I don't want to go," she murmured into his black robes.
"No."
"Do you think I could just stay like this tonight?"
"What? Standing in my classroom forever?"
"Yes."
He chuckled and lifted her chin up so that she was looking at him. "Filch would eventually come and sweep you away. And besides, you have to get ready for this ball tomorrow. I want you to look exquisite, as I know you will."
"Only for you."
He smirked slightly. "Only for me."
The thought of the ball and his words of encouragement finally gave her the motivation to leave the room. With a final kiss, she tucked his gift safely in her bag and, sighing deeply, stepped back from him. Then like all the other students she extended her hand towards him. "Goodbye, Professor Snape. Thank you for all the extraordinary knowledge you have imparted to me so skilfully over the years. There will never be another teacher like you."
He reached out and shook her hand. She smiled deeply at him, removed her hand from his and headed for the door. Without a look back, Hermione Granger opened it and left her last ever Potions lesson.
She did not see her teacher slump in his chair, his face crumpling and his hands coming up to bury his head in them.
Just a little moment of private vulnerability on Severus' part, no more, don't worry.
Thanks for all the lovely and eloquent reviews. They are so appreciated, as will be any you care to leave on this chapter.
Love, LL x
