Chapter 21
Those who remained in Grimmauld Place whilst Kingsley and Audrina went on their mission had good reason to be concerned. There was a tense atmosphere as they discussed between themselves that Kingsley probably knew far more than he was letting on regarding the sanctions and directives that had been laid down over the capture and eradication of part-humans, due to his role within the Auror Office. Most likely to avoid distressing Remus, he had quietly taken his wife and volunteered to go and fetch the baby, who was still only mere weeks old.
Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout appeared to be using Garth as a welcome distraction, playing with the little dragon as one would a pet, asking Charlie questions about the breeding programme and generally making inane small talk. Lupin had been up and down to the stove three times now, making cups of tea, and deciding that now would a good opportunity to tidy the crockery on the kitchen dresser.
Professor Snape was standing before the fire, looking as if he was either warming himself, or debating whether to jump through the Floo and escape the unbearably cloying tension in the room.
Hermione decided to put the time to good use and inspect some of the remainder of the house that was now her sole property, as she hadn't gone beyond the kitchen since she'd been gifted the entire building in Harry's will. She murmured her excuses, not that anyone was really listening, and slipped out of the kitchen door and into the long hallway that she'd last seen when she, Harry and Ron had been hiding here last year. Not for the first time, her heart ached for her lost friends, and the tragic way they had been killed. Sooner or later, the full impact of their deaths was bound to hit, she knew that, but for the moment there was so much to think about, so much to plan, in order that their loss would not have been in vain.
Ignoring the decapitated heads of the Black family house-elves that were nailed to the wall going up the stairs, she looked in the door of the main drawing room, with its threadbare old sofa in rigid wooden frames, where she'd spent a few uncomfortable nights, and the ominous Toujours Pur tapestry with its burnt-out faces of those who had 'shamed' the family.
The next room was her favourite, the library, although she had to creep past the curtained portrait of Walburga Black to reach it. One thing, if all this was ever over, she would research how to remove the painting of the odious, bigoted witch from the wall, and gleefully burn it.
Pushing open the heavy door with a loud creak; the smell of old books was apparent before she'd even stepped into the library, which was lined with dark wood bookcases built from floor to ceiling. It was not a large room, but as a home library it was a wonderful place to be. Both the tall windows had comfy window seats with cushions where one could curl up in a nook to read, and there were two large armchairs and a small but squidgy sofa set randomly around the room to encourage a reader, each with side tables on which to place books and cups of tea.
The thought that all these books were now hers, gave her a moment of great joy in the current gloom. She walked around the bookcases, there were five in total, not able to help running her fingers reverently along the leather-bound spines of these mostly old wizarding tomes. A magical library of her very own. It was almost better than the rest of the house put together.
Hermione began to pull out the books one at a time, perusing the covers and skimming the introductions before slotting it back in its place and taking out another, just drinking in the wealth of knowledge and history that her dear friend had bestowed upon her.
Engrossed in her own literary world, she did not hear the door creak open, nor the almost silent footsteps that crossed the wooden floor towards her, until he was directly behind her.
"Always to be found in the library, Granger," he drawled, his voice low and heady, standing far too close.
She stilled her hands on the shelves, where they had just replaced another book and were itching to take another. His proximity was having an instant effect on her compulsion, and she felt a now-familiar skip in her stomach, causing her to draw a sharp intake of breath.
"If in doubt, go to the library," she whispered, and he seemed to read her desire, as she felt his hands grip either side of her upper arms, and squeeze lightly.
"Do you object to me touching you?"
"No," she replied, not turning around, and her voice barely audible. "I want you to."
"I want to."
Hermione felt Professor Snape's chest against her back as he moved in behind her, sliding one arm around her body so that his hand was splayed across her belly, holding her in place, and the other hand tucked her hair behind her ear and held it there as he burrowed his long, hooked nose against it.
"Merlin knows, I cannot keep my hands from you," he whispered, enunciating each word quietly and precisely, his breath warm and tickling upon her ear. "Just having my body close to yours, eases my compulsion and quiets my mind."
She remembered their discovery that his compulsion was somewhat satisfied by contact with her, whereas hers was heightened the longer they spent together, and wondered if he had forgotten, as he pushed his hips into her bottom, and she felt the beginnings of a burgeoning erection as he ground against her, releasing almost-inaudible groans of pleasure in her ear.
His slow grind moved her against the bookcase, and the intoxicating combination of the scent of old parchment with the growing arousal that he was provoking within her making a heady mixture. He was now bending at the knees, before grinding upwards, feeling as if he was simulating fucking her devastatingly slowly from behind. She wanted more.
"Professor …"
"Not your professor," he replied, huskily against her ear.
"Severus."
"That's more like it."
She allowed her head to fall back a little on to his shoulder, meaning that his mouth was now resting on her cheek, rather than her ear, practically offering itself up to be kissed.
"Severus, I need more."
"I know you do, little witch, but we cannot, not here, and in present company."
His physical actions made a mockery of his words as her continued to rotate his groin into her arse, and allowed his tongue to trail across her cheek.
What they would have done next, Hermione had no idea, she would probably have encouraged him to take her roughly up against the bookcase, and her knickers were getting wet at the thought, but the decision was taken out of their hands by the door being creaked open and Remus Lupin entering the library. They were so closely entwined, they did not have time to extract themselves from one another before hearing his exclamation.
"What the fucking hell are you doing, Severus?"
His tone was a combination of both anguish and fury, and Snape pulled his hands and body from Hermione as quickly as he could, turning around and stalking towards the window, obviously needing his erection to dissipate before facing his colleague, which was understandable, but left her staring down Remus alone, his expression one of hurt.
"Remus," she began, "please don't worry …"
"Well, that is a problem, Hermione, because I am worried! I've suspected this, you know, ever since your first visit here together," he shot back, clearly unhappy.
"No doubt your superior sense of smell alerted you, rather than your keen and penetrating mind," Snape jeered, still facing the window with his hands in his trouser pockets. "Don't think I missed your wolfish sniffing, Lupin."
Remus ignored him, and took a step towards her, putting a protective arm around her shoulders.
"Whatever hold he has over you, Hermione, whatever he has told you, you owe him nothing. You are not a piece of meat to be …"
"Remus, please let me stop you. Please, before you say something you'll regret that could bring our fledging Order tumbling down?" she begged, placing a hand on his chest where she could feel his heartbeat thumping loudly with anxiety.
He looked down at her, and then across at Snape.
"Snape, I mean, Severus, does not treat me like a piece of meat, I can assure you. And actually, I do owe him everything, not that he would ever agree," she said, trying to get her explanation out quickly. "I was one of the three Muggle-borns not evacuated after the final battle. Dean Thomas was killed by Voldemort, Orla Roach was gifted to Yaxley to use as a personal sex slave. In order to stop the same happening to me, Severus stepped up and insisted I be given to him."
"Well, I'm sure that's all very admirable, Hermione, but that isn't much good if he's using you for his own pleasure. You do not that owe him that!"
"For fuck's sake, Lupin, just listen to the girl!" Snape growled from the window, angrily.
"It was his plan to have me known as his personal Mudblood so that I would be safe from the attentions of the other Death Eaters, not to force me into his bed. However, Voldemort cast a compulsion curse over the two of us, and at a Death Eater meeting, Severus was given a second cast, causing his compulsion to be even worse than my own."
Remus was silent.
"You are aware, of course," Snape interjected, turning away from the window and walking towards them, "of the torture an unsatisfied compulsion curse places upon the victim? But, of course you are. You are a qualified Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. I do not need to elucidate."
"He tried to fight it, Remus," Hermione continued. "He tried so hard, even causing himself great physical and mental pain to avoid taking advantage of me. Eventually, as a mutual decision, we agreed that the only way to proceed would be to deal with the effects of our curses as they arose. It is not ideal, but it is better than the alternative. I can assure you that Severus has always treated me with respect and gentleness, despite the awkwardness of what we have been forced into."
No one spoke as they allowed Remus to process the information. He looked between the two of them, awkward, apologetic, suspicious and resentful. Finally, his expression changed to one of resigned disappointment, and he allowed his shoulders to slump. Hermione stood on tiptoes, for he was even taller than Snape, and hugged him.
"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for caring, and for being willing to fight for me. I'm happy you don't need to, on this occasion, but it means more than you know, to know that you have my back."
"I am always here to protect you, Hermione," he said, pulling back and holding her by the shoulders, looking at her as if he was a concerned father.
"And in case you wish to protect me also, Lupin," Snape drawled, his eyes smirking and his hands insouciantly in his pockets, "I can advise you that Miss Granger has always treated me with respect and gentleness, too."
"Like you need it," Remus muttered. "Slytherin arsehole."
"Gryffindor prick," Snape retorted.
Hermione snorted out loud, making both wizards realise how ridiculous they sounded.
At that moment, they heard the back-garden door clatter and slam, causing them all to bolt for the library door, race down the narrow hallway and crash into to the kitchen, Remus desperate to see whether Kingsley and Audrina had returned with his son and mother-in-law.
-xxx-
"Teddy!" he cried.
Remus dashed towards Audrina, who was carrying a wrapped bundle out of which a tiny head was poking, with wisps of bright blue hair on top. His boy! His son! She held out her arms so that he could retrieve Teddy from her, cradling him to his chest and kissing his tiny, sleeping face. His eyes were filled with tears, swimming with them.
He had not seen this child since he had left Tonks at Andromeda's house, the night before the final battle. Teddy was perfect, looking for all the world like his mother, which was rightly fitting. A single tear dropped from his eye on to his son's forehead, and he softly wiped it away.
"Andromeda?" he asked the Shacklebolts, looking them both.
"She didn't want to come, Remus," replied Audrina. "We offered her a place to live, so she could stay with Teddy, but she insisted she didn't want to hide, didn't want to be on the run, when she had no need to be. She told us to tell you that she has every confidence in your ability to look after your son. She's sent all his things, from his cot to his bottles, Kingsley has it all shrunk down for you, you just need to Engorgio things when you know where you want to put them."
Kingsley placed a small bag on the table, indicating this was where Remus would find Teddy's things.
"This was the right decision," Kingsley said. "Aurors have been ordered to apprehend and cull all werewolves. It is only a matter of time before someone extends that to those with werewolf blood. There aren't many, as you know, for those afflicted by lycanthropy do not usually produce children, which makes Teddy unusual, and he will be sought, Remus, mark my words. He is safest here with you, and Andromeda is safer not having him in her custody."
He nodded, knowing that Kingsley spoke the absolute truth, but finding the reality hard to swallow feeling guilty that Andromeda had lost her husband, her daughter, and now effectively her grandson in quick succession. But Kingsley's words rang in his ears, and these were not to be taken lightly, or pushed away due to guilt or sentiment.
Culled.
Apprehended.
Sought.
Afflicted.
Ugly words that meant Remus Lupin was now unwelcome in the very world he had grown up in. He was no longer allowed to exist. He sat down at the kitchen table of a house that didn't belong to him, along with a group of people who were his only lifeline to the outside world. He wasn't going to deny it all looked rather hopeless right now, and he looked around as everyone sat themselves down, grave looks upon their faces.
Garth teetered down the table, intrigued by the new arrival, and stepped tentatively towards where Remus was cradling his baby son. The little green dragon leaned his head nearer the infant, sniffing, perhaps trying to work out if this small blue thing was food or foe.
He looked up at Remus, before turning back to Charlie, and cocked his head to one side as if asking a question.
"It's a baby, Garth. Baby. Not food. We have to look after the baby, ok?"
Garth coughed, making his whole body flinch, and a tiny puff of smoke came out of each nostril. He arranged himself fussily, like a duck settling down to nest a pile of eggs, and sat down next to Remus and Teddy, as if he had taken it upon himself to act as a very tiny guard, for this very tiny wizard.
"Remus."
It was Kingsley, his face grave and etched with concern and tiredness. He was now walking a precarious a tightrope as Severus was, and it showed. Remus currently owed his entire continued existence to Kingsley Shacklebolt keeping his whereabouts a secret every day in the Auror office.
"What are going to do at the full moon?" Kingsley asked. "You've made arrangements for yourself in the cellar here, I know, but you cannot leave Teddy whilst you are transformed. Even if there's no risk of you hurting him, he cannot be left unattended."
"The bebe can come to my cottage," Fleur offered, immediately. "When Lupin must go to the cellar, 'ee must bring Teddy to Charlie and me at Shell Cottage first. We will care for 'im while 'is father cannot."
"Fleur, that is a courageous offer, but really …"
"It's your only offer, Lupin," Charlie cut in. "Everyone else has work to go to, and Teddy can only be kept somewhere that is under a Fidelius charm. That's here, and Shell Cottage. Just accept, mate. We have to press on."
Remus felt overcome with the generosity of his colleagues – his friends. They were supporting him.
"Well, that is settled, then. Thank you, Fleur, and you too, Charlie."
He stared back down at his sleeping son, unable to believe he was holding his precious boy in his arms again.
"Shall we press on?" Pomona Sprout asked, taking an inelegant slurp from her teacup.
"Draco Malfoy," Severus said, immediately. "He has absconded from Hogwarts, taking with him the Muggle-born that had been under the control of Corban Yaxley. I cannot see how they managed to get out, but nonetheless, they have done it. In addition, Draco has found a way of blocking the conduit of his Dark Mark, which as you know, contains a variant of the Protean charm that allows Riddle to control and summon his followers."
Remus watched Severus rub the inner side of his left arm, guiltily, as he went on.
"The Dark Mark, to the best of my knowledge, does not give an exact location, but allows the brander, in this case, Voldemort, to sense whether his Marked followers are dead or alive, and from the meeting I attended, it is now clear that he can also sense whether a Mark has been damaged, but not whose it was. The Death Eaters took a year to find Igor Karkaroff when he fled in fear after the Tri-Wizard tournament, but find him they did, and they tore him limb from limb. Draco will remember this, and it seems that young Mr Malfoy has managed to block, destroy or break the connection. I can only hope that he has not cut his own arm off to achieve it."
"Or worse," Remus answered.
"I would hope that wasn't the case. If Malfoy was going to kill himself, why would he have not simply done it at school? Why go to the trouble of running away, and taking Miss Roach with him? Of course, that is only my presumption."
"I think that Draco is too big a coward to take his own life," Hermione commented, and all those who had taught Draco as his professors murmured their agreement.
"Do we think that Malfoy has come over to the Light, should we be seeking him out to recruit him?" Minerva asked.
"I think not," Severus replied. "If he finds us, then we will certainly offer him shelter, but I would suggest that young Malfoy would rather not fight for a side at all. He will want to hide, lay low, keep out of the battles, and I cannot say that I blame him, for he was forced underage into the Death Eaters, and has witnessed heinous acts within what should have been the safety of his own home. I believe we can only wait and see what happens. I merely wanted to make everyone aware of the situation."
A long conversation ensued, each member reporting any news they had heard or new developments in their places of work. Audrina Shacklebolt had filled them in on the new ward at St Mungo's that was purely for Death Eaters, much to everyone's disgust, and Fleur had advised that a huge vault had been reserved for Voldemort at Gringotts, but as yet it was still empty, and none of the goblins were any the wiser as to what was going to be stored in there. Would it be gold, treasures, or something more sinister?
"I have information," said Kingsley, reaching into the pocket of his robes and pulling out a sheaf of parchment which he passed around the table. "Here is a list of all the key departments at the Ministry. All of them, without exception, now have a Death Eater or supporter of the Dark in the top roles. However, within each of those departments, there are those who are simply biding their time, keeping their heads down, seeking either to flee, or with their ear to the ground for signs of a resistance movement they can join. There are great numbers within the Ministry that can be relied upon, when the time comes."
"When the time comes for what?" Charlie asked.
"When the times comes to reclaim our Ministry," Kingsley answered, simply. "We cannot kill Voldemort and expect everything to simply fall back into place. We have a dangerous witch at the helm in the shape of Dolores Umbridge, and I wonder if she may be even more difficult to topple than the Dark Lord himself."
"Wouldn't surprise me," snorted Minerva. "That hag will rise from the ashes like a dark pink phoenix, you mark my words."
"Well then, it seems our first and foremast task is to kill the serpent."
Severus had risen from his seat after his statement, and walked around to the other side of the table, near to the fireplace.
"I presume that task will fall to me, unless anyone else happens to come across a giant snake that contains a part of the Dark Lord's soul? No doubt I will have to attempt it during a Death Eater meeting or revel. My preferred method of destruction is Fiendfyre, but Miss Granger, Hermione, my apologies, has some Basilisk fangs which will also kill a Horcrux."
"The sword of Gryffindor can also kill a Horcrux, as its blade is permanently impregnated with Basilisk venom," Hermione added, "but it can only be wielded by a Gryffindor to whom it may present itself under conditions of valour."
"There's plenty of lions here," said Charlie, "isn't there, Remus, Minerva, Hermione? One of us ought to get it."
"Don't be flippant, Charles," Minerva admonished, but he only laughed.
"You never know, Professor," he replied, cheekily winking at her.
"Then let us leave things here," Severus announced, "since I should return Hermione to the castle."
Remus watched Hermione stand up obediently, and he wasn't sure he liked it. Although he concluded that knowing about their compulsion curse made things a little more palatable, knowing full well what they were going back to Severus' chambers to do, he felt justified in not liking it.
As the two bid the group their farewells and stepped through the Floo, and the others started to rise and gather their belongings to take their own leave, he gazed down at the small baby in his arms that was now his sole charge.
My precious son, he thought. I will not fail you.
-xxx-
Severus practically pushed Granger through the Floo connection, so desperate was he to be back in the privacy of his own office, which was in darkness, save for a huge, silvery beam of moonlight that was shining through the huge window where he often looked out over the school grounds.
Standing in the eerie, blueish light, he spun her around, clasping her face between his hands. He was close, too close, too intimate, but as usual he was being cajoled and pushed by the compulsion that was now thrumming through his loins in earnest.
"Do you still need more, Hermione?" he asked, searching her face for the answer he wanted, and his stomach lurched with pleasure when she nodded. "Will you allow me to take more? To overstep the boundaries again? To behave with you as a lover would do?"
"I would prefer it," she replied, a small smile creeping to her lips.
"I ask too much of you."
"You ask nothing at all."
He could not wait any longer. Not releasing the hold on her face, he did what he had been desperate to do again for so long. His tongue had touched her cheek in the Black library, but he wanted more, so much more. Leaning his dark head towards her, he sealed his mouth atop hers, moving his lips, feeling her begin to respond immediately. This soft little witch was responding to his kiss, and he didn't intend to waste a second of it. He felt her arms reach out and encircle his waist, pulling him to stand closer to her, to press his groin against hers.
As his growing erection felt the first touch of her body, he moaned, flickering his tongue along her lips to open her mouth for him to plunder. Rather than sink straight inside her, he began to lick along her lower lip with the very tip of his tongue, teasing slowly from one side to the other, enjoying the gasps she let out into his mouth. She stood there, her delicious mouth open to his attentions, as he trailed to her top lip and begun again, a slow flickering along it, enjoying her attempts to catch his mouth to kiss her properly.
I want her to want me, he thought, desperately.
When he reached his starting place, having licked his way all the way around her open mouth, he pulled back a little, still cupping her face, but enough to make her open her eyes to question why he had stopped. For the first time, he thought he saw genuine desire there, although he was probably seeing what he wanted to see, rather than reality.
He smiled, a rare and real smile, because he couldn't help it, and hoped it wasn't too much like a predatory old pervert.
"Tell me," he begged. "Please, tell me."
Granger returned his smile, although it was mischievous and teasing.
"Please, Sir, could I ask you to overstep the boundaries?"
Wench.
He crashed his mouth down onto the sweet lips upon which he had just lavished such care and attention, and found her little tongue there waiting for him, ready to be debauched by his own, experienced one. He swirled his tongue around hers, forcing his writhing muscle far into her mouth, licking the length of her tongue and cramming himself inside her, the noises she was making heading straight for his cock.
Letting go of her face, he slid his hands down her arms and pulled them upwards, not breaking the deep kiss, and wrapping them around his own neck, folding himself into her embrace, and she instantly pushed her hands into his hair, massaging the back of his scalp and exciting all the sensitive nerve endings there.
Her whole body now open to him, he slid his hands back down, deliberately brushing slowly over her full breasts on his way to her waist before slipping around to her back, splaying his hands across her spine, holding her close to him as he kissed her, snogging her passionately as if both their lives depended on it, which in a strange way, they did.
A cloud passed in front of the moon, throwing the room into temporary darkness, but they continued to kiss, each of their mouths open to meet the other. When moonlight filled the room again and bathed them in the ghostly blue glow, Severus could not resist sliding his hands down over her arse, squeezing, causing her to gasp in that way he loved. Emboldened, he reached under the school skirt she was still wearing and hooked his fingers in the sides of her knickers, tugging them down until her bum was bared, and squeezed the peachy globes again.
He broke the kiss, breathing heavily, and wondered if his own lips were as red and swollen as hers. Drawing his wand, he cleared his desk and applied a cushioning charm, before slipping it back into his sleeve, taking a step back and looking her up and down.
"Remove your knickers, Granger," he instructed. "They are half-down, anyway."
Severus watched her intently as she reached under her skirt and thumbed down her pants, pushing them a little way down her thighs before they dropped to the floor.
"Hand them to me."
She reached down and picked the plain black cotton knickers up from the floor, and handed them over, where he drew them to his large nose and inhaled, before rubbing the seat with his pale fingers.
"Are you aroused by kissing me?"
"Very much so."
"It seems so. Your knickers are wet, and I can smell your juices. They are quite … exquisite."
He pushed the underwear into his pocket, and directed her to lay down on the desk, guiding her from sitting on the edge, to laying completely flat, and shuffling back so that he could push her knees up and outwards, and place her feet on the desk. Her skirt fell back, and immediately her wet pussy was open to him, he could smell her from his standing position above her. She was leaking already, and he swept a finger around her vagina, scooping up her arousal and bringing it to his mouth, to see if she tasted as good he remembered.
"I am overstepping my boundaries, Hermione."
"You certainly are, Sir."
"Do you wish me to continue?"
"If you stop now I may have to Imperio you to carry on."
He smirked, returning his hands to her thighs and pushing them further apart, stroking his fingers down to her luscious cunt and splaying her labia open wide so that he could dip inside all her hot and wet parts with several fingers in different places – rolling her clitoris, tickling her inner labia and urethral opening, and around her dripping entrance.
"Ohh, shit," she gasped, pushing her head back and tilting her hips upwards to press against his fondling fingers.
"The previous time I had you across this desk, Granger, I was administering a spanking that left both of us thoroughly punished," he drawled, not letting his fingers shirk their duty of masturbating her to orgasm. "The time before that, I sat in my chair on the opposite side to where we are, licking you to what I discovered later was your first ever climax. Do you remember both those occasions?"
"Oh, fuck, yes … yes, Sir, I do …"
"Not Sir."
"Severus."
"That's better."
"And now we found ourselves here for the third time, and I cannot tell you how much pleasure it gives me, to be holding open your wet cunt and watching it redden under my touch, watching your clit swell to three times its normal size as I toy with it."
"Fucking hell," she breathed, "sometimes I think you could make me come just by talking."
He smirked. It had been said before, but not by a witch so young, so beautiful, so intelligent and so innocent as Hermione Granger.
"Shall we test that theory? I can remove my hands?"
"Don't you fucking dare," she growled, like a protective, desperate little lioness, making him chuckle.
"I shall stop for just a brief moment to remove some clothing, if that is permissible? As once I see you come, I would like very much to fuck you over my desk, right where you lay."
She didn't answer, but whined as he removed his hands from the titillation of her pussy. That made him disrobe quicker than any mere words would have done. He began to unfasten his trousers, before changing his mind. Fuck it. They were too deep already. He cast a Divesto and removed every stitch of his clothing, banishing it to his bedchamber where it would be waiting for him, neatly on a chair. He left Granger dressed in her school uniform, not even the sight of her distinctive Gryffindor jumper and tie caused him to feel guilty enough to remove it.
He'd never had any desire to lay a student over his desk and fuck her … until now.
"That was quick," she commented, as he returned his hands to their task, sliding them down her inner thighs until they reached their goal.
"I felt that expediency was needed," he smirked, now chasing her orgasm in earnest as he took hold of her clitoris with his thumb and forefinger, and used a finger from his other hand to tickle the head.
She screamed, and her hips shot upwards. He held on to her clit securely, using the digits that were holding it secure to start a tiny up-and-down wank, to go alongside the agitation he was providing to the tip.
"Please …"
"Please, what? What can I do for you, Hermione?" he asked, not ceasing his relentless masturbation of the hard, swollen bud.
"Can you … I mean, is it possible, to have sex at the same time?"
What?
He stopped touching her, and she groaned loudly.
"Do you mean, can I fuck you and frig you at the same time?"
He enjoyed the embarrassment on her face, before realising that his reply was rather coarse to a young girl who had been a virgin until very recently. He was allowing his own arousal to override his good manners and that was disrespectful.
"I apologise. That was crude. Yes, my sweet girl, it is possible. Should I presume you wish me to demonstrate?"
"Yes, please. But now. Please."
He would not tease her any longer. Giving his cock a quick shuffle with his right hand to ensure it was hard enough, which was stupid, of course it bloody was, he guided it to her soaking wet entrance, and pushed the first third inside, enjoying her incredible tightness, wholly undeserved by him, of course.
Returning his fingers to her clitoris, he put them back in the exact same position they'd been, one frigging up and down, and the other tickling the over-sensitive tip. He began to shallow-thrust, pushing himself a little deeper each time, angling his hips upwards so that the end of his cock would bump against her G-spot, giving her sensations inside as well as outside.
Granger had stopped speaking, stopped making noises, and was simply laying back with her mouth fixed open, her body rigid with sexual tension, taking in everything he was doing to her. When she came, it was going to be explosive.
Sensing she was close, he sped up his thrusts, keen to time his climax with her own. He had the skill to do it, it was all a question of precision. He was in the dominant position, controlling both their orgasms, this should be possible. Adjusting his fingers on her clit, he pulled and wiggled and rolled the pearl until it was purple, and as hard as a little rock.
"Come, beautiful girl. Come all over my cock. Let me feel you."
Her hips thrust upwards, hard and rigid, unmoving on the absolute cusp of her orgasm. He pounded into her static hips until his own were a blur, determined to climax together, and this peach was about to come like the Hogwarts Express. Severus used three fingers of one hand, frantically frigging her clit to push her screaming over the edge.
"Oh, fuck … Fuck! Severus! You … fuck! Oh, oh, ohhh …."
Her cries forced his orgasm, and as he spurted, she screamed, long and loud, squeezing his cock inside her like a vice as she achieved her release, and her vaginal walls began to pulse and contract around him, drawing out his orgasm, milking jet after jet of hot come from him, shooting out uncontrollably.
"Fucking hell," he hissed, still pounding hard. "Fucking, bloody hell."
As he began to slow his thrusts to a stop, he cupped her labia, gently stroking her folds and around her clit as she came down from her peak, still gripping his cock tightly inside her.
Hermione pushed herself to a sitting position, and he tugged her forwards so that her cunt was on the edge of the desk, meaning he could leave his dick inside her, as it had not yet softened fully. He was amazed when she placed her hands on his shoulders and behind his neck, encouraging him to drop his lips to hers, and he willingly complied, kissing her gently, and feeling her tongue enter his mouth and seek his own, allowing her to swirl it around in an altogether more subtle way than his primal snogging earlier.
"Could you take me to bed, please, Severus?" she asked, when she had thoroughly delivered her kiss.
"Are we pretending again?"
"No. We are doing what lovers do. For the duration of this curse, we are lovers, like it or not. We have no other choices here, so I found one. I chose … I choose to like it. Rather than not."
He lifted her up in one smooth movement, wrapping her legs around his waist and supporting her under her bare bum. His penis slipped out, of course, but it meant his fingers could reach down and dabble in her soaking wet pussy. Beginning the walk across the office to the panelled door of his private bedchamber, he amused himself by tickling her on her perineum, flickering between her vagina and her untouched little rear end, liking her wriggling in his arms.
"I like it too, Hermione," he replied. "I like it very, very much."
She had found a choice to make, where it seemed they had none.
Over-achieving little madam.
