Ginny, Harry, and Ron are cooking dinner. Which means Ginny and Harry are cooking dinner and carefully supervising Ron. The mood is light, if a bit apprehensive.
"What do you think the greasy old bat is doing to her up there?" Ron muses darkly to himself.
"Shut up, Ron!" Harry and Ginny say in unison.
"Really, mate, you didn't want her back." Harry says pointedly.
"I still don't! But she's our best friend and it's Snape!" He mimes puking dramatically.
"It's a bit- weird," says Harry as he drains the potatoes. "But also kind of weirdly makes sense. He's a genius. They're probably up there reading."
Ginny snorts, and almost drops the chicken.
One floor above, Hermione is most decidedly not reading. She is not even thinking, in fact. Her entire self has descended purely into the physical realm and her head is blessedly silent, incapable of coherent thought.
Severus' lips are pressed hard against hers, his hand cupping the back of her head holding her firmly in place. His lean body is pressing her down into the chaise. She can barely breathe, or move. She holds on to him, pressing her palms into his back to tell him: closer, more.
Severus is kissing firmly down Hermione's neck, deliberately scratching her soft delicate skin with his rough face. Her legs are wrapped around his hips, and when he does this, she moans and -subconsciously- parts her legs farther for him. It's a very promising reaction. Her palms are pressing against his back, holding him against her, a constant reassurance of her consent to his onslaught.
closer. more. He catches the thought with a disorganized onslaught of desire, excitement, and just a tiny tinge of fear.
He changes the tempo of his kisses from demanding to playful. "I can't get any closer to you without removing your clothes, my dear."
"Okay," she says.
He chuckles a little at her enthusiasm. "I am not going to fuck you on a chaise in Potter's library," he says.
"It's my library," she says, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of black hair behind his ear. But she's blushing scarlet at his mention of fucking. She abruptly occludes.
Downstairs in the kitchen, the conversation has taken on a more serious note. Dinner is almost ready. With little to distract her, and Snape and Hermione upstairs 'reading,' it's hard for Ginny to not be concerned.
"I feel like he's going to take her from us," she says to the boys. "When I went in the other day the floor was covered in books and pamphlets from magical Universities, and she had drawn up a list of pros and cons. There weren't ANY schools from Britain on her list."
"But Snape lives at Hogwarts," say Ron, reaching out to steal a roll. Ginny slaps his hand away with practised ease.
"Not if he wants to have Hermione," Harry says. "I'll bet McGonagall is livid."
"You think she fired him?" asks Ginny thoughtfully.
"I think he was smart enough to quit," says Harry.
Upstairs in the library, Severus sits up, taking Hermione with him so that she is in his lap. She runs her fingers across his jaw, absolutely fascinated with how rough it is. She has never felt anything like it, apart from her previous stolen moments of closeness with him.
"It's like sandpaper, isn't it?" he says, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "Do you want me to use a depilatory spell?" He knows she doesn't. But does she know? He wants to know how in touch she is with her needs and desires.
"No!" she says firmly.
"Good answer," he says, running his hands up her body from hip to armpit, grazing the sides of her breasts with his thumbs.
"I like the sandpaper," she says, sounding a little surprised at the revelation.
"I know," he says. Her neck is at the perfect angle for him to reach with his mouth. He obliges with a string of kisses that end with a sharp nip of his teeth, like an exclamation point at the end of a long sentence.
"Ow!" she says. But she is leaning into him, not pulling away. "Then why did you ask me?"
"Because I wanted to know if you knew you liked it," he says, kissing and licking the place where he bit her. "Does 'ow' mean no?"
"I- I don't know, Severus," she says. "I can't think when you're doing that."
Severus removes his lips from Hermione's neck. He grasps her hips in his hands and gently but firmly removes her from his lap, placing her next to him on the chaise. She protests with an angry growl.
"I agree," says Severus. "Unfortunately, dinner is in half an hour and I don't think it would be polite for me to show up with a raging erection."
Hermione blushes right on clue, tries not to look at his crotch, fails miserably. The bulge isn't subtle.
"When you're done ogling my cock, I have a question for you, sweetheart," he says.
Hermione buries her face in her hands. "Okay ask," she says.
Severus pulls her hands away from her face. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. Don't hide from me."
She looks at him.
He has to restrain himself from teasing her any further. "I want to ask you about your past experience with men, Hermione. You don't have to tell me anything. But knowing a little about your past experiences will help me immensely going forward."
Hermione pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, resting her chin on a knee. Takes a deep breath. Looks at Severus. "Okay," she says.
"I don't care if you're a virgin, or if you've had a thousand partners, ok? It won't change the fact that I want you, do you understand?"
"Okay," she says again. And then, "I've just had one partner. We just did it the one time."
"Were you sober? Did you consent?"
"Yes and yes," she answers.
"How was it?" Severus asks her, in the deliberately gentle tone he uses only with her.
She looks away.
"Did it hurt?" he asks.
She nods.
"Were you wet?"
She shakes her head. "I wanted to be. I thought I would get that way- you know- eventually." She stops, but Severus thinks she has more to say, so he remains quiet. She continues. "It was after the war- I just felt so numb. I felt like I was losing him- Ron- losing everyone, really. So one night I just told him I wanted to do it. I thought it would be different, I was so stupid-" she breaks off, tearing up. "Fuck! Why do I always cry and ruin everything?"
Severus already has his Handkerchief in his hand. "Your tears don't ruin anything," he says, wiping them away like he has been doing for half a year already. "Remember the first time we did this? After I was such an asshole to you? Your bravery put me to shame that day. It still does. And I want to correct you very strongly on something, Hermione, so please listen to me, hmm?"
She nods. He continues to dry her face as he talks to her. "You are not stupid. The way you lost your virginity was not stupid. You loved that boy and you were slipping away from everyone, including yourself, and you asked for his help to bring you back. You wanted him to make love to you, you wanted an intense physical experience to jolt you from the apathy you were descending into. You asked a boy you loved and trusted to give that to you. What you got was further trauma. It wasn't your fault."
"I thought it was me," Hermione says, the tears starting all over again. "I thought there was something wrong with my body that I didn't respond to him."
Severus sets aside the Handkerchief and pulls her into his lap. She is stiff at first, remaining in her fetal position. But with a little coaxing she relaxes into his chest, unwrapping her arms from around her knees and putting them around him instead. He strokes her hair until her sobs subside.
"There is nothing wrong with your body, or with you. You respond beautifully to me. Experiencing your arousal with you today was breathtaking."
"Could you tell that I was wet?" she asks, voice shaky with tears but her curiosity clearly getting the better of her.
"Of course," he says, pulling her tight against him, tucking her head under his chin.
"Could you tell that I was wet that day in your office?"
Which time? he thinks. He goes with the moment it was the most obvious to him. "When you kissed my palm, and I grabbed you by the hair?"
"You really could tell?"
"Yes. And Gods, Hermione, your reaction to me when I took you by the hair was fucking beautiful. That groan. Fuck. I was so out of line that night."
"I had the best orgasm I've ever had that night," she says.
He is suddenly rock hard, pressing into her. She clutches at him, groaning softly.
"How?" She asks. "How could you tell I was wet that day? How can you tell I am now?"
"Hmm, trade secret," he says.
Hermione gives a little snort. "Promise you'll tell me at some point."
"Sure," he says easily. "Oh, that reminds me. What was the insult you thought of that made you blush? I won't take offense, I promise."
"Oh, that," says Hermione, glad he can't see her face. "It wasn't an insult. That was the exact moment I realized I was rather fond of you. I didn't have a crush on you yet- at least- not that I was aware of. But I looked at you and the only thing that sprang to mind was that I Iiked you."
"Huh," he says. "I was really looking forward to hearing that insult."
"Sorry," she says. "I'll think of a good one the next time I'm angry with you."
"Deal," Severus says. Then, "Time for dinner, love. Stand up and let me fix you up."
Hermione disentangles herself from his embrace and stands in front of him. He straightens her clothes, using his wand to get the wrinkles out of her shirt. He casts an anti inflammatory spell on her face. Then straightens out her hair with his hands. She points to him.
"My tears and snot are all over your shirt," she says. He looks down. Takes care of it.
"Are you ready to have dinner with Harry Potter?" Hermione asks him, teasing a little.
Severus gives her one of his most withering looks as he stands up. She giggles.
"That depends," he says. "Is there liquor?"
"Yes," she says.
"Then I will muddle through."