Chapter 38

Hermione tumbled through the Floo connection with a sound-asleep Teddy Lupin cradled tightly in her arms, probably too tightly, since she was terrified about dropping the baby and somehow losing him halfway between Grimmauld Place and Shell Cottage. She stepped over the hearth of her kitchen and was relieved to see Remus sitting at the table; he got to his feet immediately when he saw her, holding out his arms for his sleeping son.

"Thank you, Hermione," Lupin said, gratefully, managing to skilfully extract Teddy from her grip without waking him.

"I literally just brought him home," she admitted. "It was Fleur that did most of the childcare, although Charlie did bravely step up and volunteer for the post-dinner nappy change."

"Always a stinker," he replied, smiling indulgently down at his son.

He put Teddy gently in the kitchen cradle and gestured towards the table, where he'd been drinking tea, and summoned a second mug from the dresser, pouring one for Hermione. She sat down with him, and took the drink gratefully; Remus made a great cuppa.

"How did it go with Orla? Is she ok?"

He smiled again, differently this time. Something had happened between them, Hermione was sure of it. She had suspected Remus had had an ulterior motive for following her home after she left Shell Cottage so abruptly, and had been wondering for a while now whether there was, or could possibly be, more between her two housemates than simply a necessary friendship.

"She will be fine. She's very tired, hugely emotional, and is sleeping now."

Hermione waved her hands around in frustration at what he was not telling her.

"And?"

Lupin sighed in good-natured resignation.

"We have agreed to bond. She and the baby will take my name, and the child will be presumed to be mine."

"What?"

"You heard me correctly, I believe. I did point out that having your child presumed to be a half-werewolf was not particularly protective, but apparently a rapist Death Eater for a father is worse," he confirmed, smiling wryly.

Orla had taken Seamus' idea to bond to cover the paternity of the child, which was sound and made good sense, but instead had chosen … Lupin?

From a practical point of view, Hermione had to agree with Remus, to have not just Teddy but also the new baby falling foul of the half-breed law did not seem sensible, surely it was just putting another child at risk? But then, it was probable that the child would be more at risk, were it known that Corban Yaxley was her father.

But why Remus?

Why complicate the issue by adding another problem, that of his lycanthropy?

There was no denying that the two of them had become very close in the weeks they had all lived here together. They were, to all intents and purposes, living together as a married couple anyway, sharing the domestic chores and the care of a baby. There was just the small matter of the required consummation to make a magical marriage legally binding, but that wasn't the end of the world, considering what Orla had already been through, and Remus would of course be kind and gentle. But still, surely a marriage in name only, to Seamus Finnigan, would lead to far less problems, in the long run?

"Well," she began. "I don't really know what to say. I can see the obvious pitfalls, of course, but I can also see why it would work."

"You can?"

He seemed surprised.

"Of course I can. The two of you live in a very domestic situation already."

"Apart from the sex," he interjected.

"There is that."

"I kissed her tonight," Remus admitted, although his smile began to fade a little. "She kissed me back, too."

"You did? But you don't seem happy about it?"

"Confused. Conflicted. Dora … it's so soon to be intimate with someone else."

Hermione reached for her friend's hand and clutched it with both of hers, feeling him return her squeeze.

"They're all gone, Remus. All of them. The few of us here, we are the only ones left. We can miss them desperately, of course we can, but it won't bring them back. Ever. We can only fight to carve out new lives for ourselves without those who were most dear to us. Living well does not mean they are forgotten, it just means you are not willing to waste the life you are fortunate to still have."

"She shouldn't have died, Hermione!" he shouted, pulling his hands away from hers and slamming his palm hard on the table, making her jump. "I agree with what you've said, of course I do, but Tonks shouldn't have died. She shouldn't have even been at the castle that night! She should have stayed with her mother, like I told her to! Then Teddy would still have his mum, and I would still have my wife! She didn't fucking listen to me!"

Hermione did not answer him, but allowed him to stand up forcefully from the table, kicking the wooden chair so hard that it fell over, making the baby startle, but thankfully not wake. Remus paced around the kitchen, hands raking through his dark-blond hair in frustration.

"I asked her why she had come, when I first saw her, the night of the battle," he said, bitterly. "I told her that Teddy needed her, and do you know what she told me? You need me more tonight, Remus. I tried to send her back, but she wouldn't go! And it cost her life! Loving me, cost her life! I am a danger."

"Now that's not true, and well you know it," Hermione replied, quietly. "It was Tonks' decision to join the battle, and we both know that nothing anyone said would have persuaded her to leave. You did not cause her death, either directly or otherwise."

Remus stopped pacing and sat back down, facing her.

"She chose me, Hermione. She chose me, over her son."

His face was wrought with anguish, his eyes imploring her to say that he was wrong.

"She did, Remus. She had to make an unthinkable choice, and knowing that Teddy was safe with her mother; she chose you, because she loved you."

"Then by kissing Orla, by accepting her request to bond, do I not defile that love? Does it mean that my love for her was not as great?"

"Of course not. You loved her fully, with every fibre of your being, and you will always love her. But you have a life to live, a continuing life that you must appreciate and live to the fullest, because it is a life that has been denied to most of our friends. You also have a son to raise to the best of your ability, as a mark of respect to his mother."

"It is not too soon?"

"Who is to say what is too soon? Any one of us could be dead tomorrow, Remus, we are all under threat. I say we take every moment of the life that has been gifted to us, to live for all those we held dear."

He didn't answer, but began to nod slowly, as if he desperately wanted to believe her, but wasn't quite there yet.

"Bond with Orla. Protect her with your name, accept her help with Teddy and offer her the same help in return with her own baby. When all this is over … however this war ends, if you have a chance to build a life together, well, then no one would begrudge either of you your happiness."

"She said if the world changes, I can divorce her."

"That's not something you have to think about now. Do you enjoy being with her?"

"Very much so."

"Do you, um, fancy her?"

"Despite feeling a hundred years older than her, yes."

"Severus thinks like that about me," she replied, candidly.

"Severus, eh?" he teased, leaning back in his chair with the ghost of a smile beginning under his moustache, making Hermione blush.

"He's very kind to me," she stammered.

"Hermione, I am teasing you. Take everything that you have just said to me, and apply it to yourself. I have seen you and Severus together, I have seen how he watches you when he thinks no one is looking, how he admires you. If the two of you, after all this is over, can also be happy together …"

"We are very different," she interrupted.

"I think you are more alike than you realise."

"I was his student!"

"And Orla was mine," he shot back, still smiling. "You care for him, don't you?"

Hermione felt her shoulders sag.

"I think I do."

"And that is alright," he reassured, patting her hand. "Even Slytherin bastards like Severus Snape need love."

They both laughed, despite themselves, finding humour even in the depths of despair, in this terrible new world where they both lived, a world where all those they held dear had been taken from them. Teddy really did wake up, this time, and began to holler for a late-night feed.

"Duty calls," Remus observed, getting to his feet. "And, the way you're hopping around in that chair, suggests you should let me help you."

He cast his wand at the fire, send through the shot of green flame that would burst in Snape's office, indicating one of them needed to speak to him without the need to stick their head in the fireplace, before smirking at her and heading to the cradle to collect the whimpering infant.

"Yes?" the headmaster replied, almost instantly, his head appearing in the kitchen fire.

"Hello. Can I come through?" she asked, not giving the reason, despite all three of them knowing quite clearly what the problem was.

"Of course."

His head disappeared immediately, saying nothing further, no doubt he had seen Lupin pottering around near the stove behind her, preparing Teddy's bottle.

"We'll see you tomorrow then, shall we, Hermione?" Remus asked, with a knowing look.

She smiled at him, and stepped into the fire, tumbling through the Floo connection for the second time that hour.

-xxx-

Snape had returned to his desk in the time it had taken her to bid Remus farewell and travel through the Floo, he had a ledger in front of him that he was writing in, and one of his heavy glasses of firewhisky on a coaster within easy reach.

"Good evening," he greeted, his voice deep and suggestive, or maybe she was just hearing it that way.

"Hello," she replied, approaching the desk. "I'm going to need your assistance, I'm afraid. I'm sorry if you're busy."

He looked up, and one side of his mouth crooked up in a sexy half-smile.

Sexy half-smile? Not a description that was often applied to Professor Snape, she suspected, allowing her eyes to trail down his front, seeing a small patch of black hair peeking from the top of his open shirt. His long, black hair was hanging around his ears, just skimming his shoulders, and she wanted to grab a handful of it and bring his head down roughly to kiss her …

Shit, her compulsion was building quickly now that she was here alone with him, pushing her towards him, making her mind race with all manner of inappropriate thoughts. It had been grumbling for a few hours now, while she had been at Shell Cottage, but had only started to become uncomfortable in the last minute. He had an intoxicating effect on her; his very proximity ignited her urgent physical need.

Hermione rested her fingers on the desk, unable to stop them tapping impatiently on the polished surface, such was her heightening frustration.

"You are compelled?"

"Very."

"Why did you not seek help earlier?"

"I was at Shell Cottage with … look, I will explain everything, lots has happened tonight and there is much to tell you, but first I just … I just need …" she told him, helplessly, willing him to understand that he had to ease her compulsion first.

He beckoned her to walk around to his side of the desk, pushing back his wheeled chair to create a space for her to stand in front of him, perching on the edge. He remained seated, taking hold of her hips and splaying his hands around them, squeezing, and she couldn't hold in a soft moan of relief at his familiar touch.

"You are in need," he observed, and she nodded, chewing on her lip.

Snape flicked his wand to clear the surface of his desk, and she heard him place the cushioning charm upon it.

"Remove your dress, Granger."

Hermione's stomach lurched as she pulled the soft material of her summer dress over her head and tossed it to one side, leaving her standing just in her underwear, feeling a cool breeze on her body that must be coming from an open window, somewhere in the office.

Severus feasted his eyes upon her, feeling his cock begin to harden just by looking at this little witch in her white brassiere and knickers. The bra was rather thin, and he could see the outline of her nipples beginning to become erect through the sheer fabric, and he suddenly had a wicked idea, if he could persuade her to play along?

Putting out his right hand, he summoned a luxurious, feathery quill – an implement that he never used due to it being so fucking ostentatious, like an enormous fluffy black plume of a peacock feather. Albus had bought it for him for Christmas one year, probably the old poof's idea of a joke, since he was well known to use only the plainest and simplest of quills for his research and marking.

But now? The unwanted gift was about to come in rather useful, if she would allow it.

Taking hold of the nib end, and looking her straight in the eyes, he trailed the feather end of the quill across her breasts, raising his eyebrow to question whether she would like to proceed. Granger held her shoulders back a little, pushing her breasts forwards, so he was inclined to take that as an affirmative.

He used the downy feather to stroke her bare arms and stomach, getting her used to the feel of it, before returning to her breasts.

"Lose the brassiere," he instructed, enjoying watching her put her arms behind her back and unhook it herself, before tipping forwards and spilling her breasts bare before him.

Fucking Merlin, he loved her tits. They were absolutely fucking exquisite.

He held out his hand for the garment with an expectantly raised eyebrow, and she passed the bra over, watching him drop it on top of her discarded dress. It took a fair bit of his resolve not to sniff it.

Severus then returned to his task, and her nipples were much more sensitive and receptive without their covering, for she shivered as he stroked the feather across them, backwards and forwards, tickling her hardening peaks.

Fuck, his cock was already throbbing in the tight confines of his trousers. How many years had it been since he had taken a feather to a witch? He could barely remember. He hoped she would let him do as he pleased with her. Desperately hoped.

"Lie back," he told her, in a gruff voice that sounded croaky, even to his own ear.

He stood, assisting her to seat herself on the desk and lay down on its shiny but magically-cushioned surface, slipping off her shoes for her as she did so. From his position above her, she looked like all his dreams come true; her abundant hair strewn wild and curly across his desk, pert tits begging for his attention, brown eyes full of lust and aimed solely at him. At times like this, it was very easy to forget that Granger was magically compelled.

Severus began to stroke the black plume across her upper body, eliciting sighs of pleasure, especially when he trailed back and forth over her breasts.

"Is this acceptable?" he asked, hoarsely. "I do not wish to cause you any frustration or discomfort from your compulsion."

"It's … really nice," she admitted. "It's as if my body knows that you are here, attending to me, and that seems to stop the compulsion from getting desperate."

He breathed a sigh of relief, for he was enjoying this immensely, and began to trail the feather over her covered mound, and down her thighs, continuing down her shins and under her bare feet, an action that made her gasp and twitch away from him.

"Ticklish?"

"A little."

"Relax. Bare foot tickling is not my intention. Not today, anyway."

With that, he took hold of her little white knickers, tugging them down her hips, which she obligingly lifted for him. He was struck with the idea of removing her underwear with his teeth, but though that might be too much – he needed to show at least a small amount of restraint. The knickers joined her dress and bra on his office floor.

Sitting back down in his chair, he wheeled himself forwards so that he was seated between her legs, pushing her thighs apart and receiving a fine view of her juicy pussy. Severus stroked the feather down the full length of her body, trailing it across her mons, along her inner thighs and down her outer labia, finishing at her little rear end, where he gifted an extended tickle to the rarely-touched skin and was gratified to watch her lips twitch with the new sensation.

"Do you like that, Granger?" he asked, whilst repeating the action again.

"Yes, Professor, I do. Please do it again."

"Cheeky wench," he admonished, although he did not correct her, since being addressed as Professor whilst her cunt was open in front of his face, was rather erotic.

Severus continued to tickle her genitals with the downy feather until he could see her little hole beginning to leak copious amounts of her silky arousal fluid. He set the showy quill to one side, and picked up a smaller one, a simple black crow's feather, stiff and unyielding, that he used for writing.

Holding the sharp nib safely in his hand, he extended the small feather towards her, using his other hand to open her labia wide, sliding his fingers around and under the hooded cleft, lifting it back so as to expose her clitoris to its fullest. She gasped, even before the new feather had touched her.

Delicately, he began to flicker the end of the feather back and forth directly under the hood, irritating the skin there, and then down and across her exposed clit.

"Oh, holy fuck!" Granger screamed, at the first touch, her stomach immediately contracting with the new sensation.

"You approve, then, I take it?" he drawled, circling the tiny point around her sensitive bud, earning himself a flurry of surprised gasps.

"Shit, yes … oh, fuck …"

"So eloquent," he teased, drawing the end of the feather around her inner lips, marvelling at her complete inability to keep herself still.

He loved arousing this witch, loved seeing her helpless at his touch. Severus had a fleeting thought that he really should have released his cock from the prison of his trousers first, underestimating how much of an effect her enthusiasm would have upon him. Still, he would bear it, for he was in an excellent position and was not about to remove his hands from her until she achieved the orgasm she needed, and that he wanted to provoke, and observe.

Severus trailed the feather-tip down to her urethral opening and tickled her there, enjoying watching her entire cunt flinch hard, and hearing her shout in weak protest.

"Oh! Oh, god, Sir, please don't! I'll wet myself if you carry on … there."

"I don't care," he answered, insolently, keeping up the frustrating tickle upon her private hole, noting a few drops of piss appear from it; she was out of control. "I am enjoying myself immensely."

"Gods!" she shouted, covering her face with her hands and writhing her hips as he titillated her there without mercy, causing another dribble of urine that made her squeal in frustration – his little peach needed to come.

Using his soaked fingers to splay her even wider, he took the long edge of the feather and sawed it back and forth across her clitoris, not giving the throbbing, desperate little nub a chance as he tickled and tormented it until Granger thrust her hips up hard in the air, and as she held herself rigid, on the most final cusp of her orgasm, he sped up the pace of the quill, flickering madly on her clit as she threw herself over the edge, panting wildly as her cunt contracted in climax, her hole dripping juice, as it pulsed open and closed to entice him to enter it.

Bloody Merlin, that had been the most thrilling orgasm it had ever been his great fortune to witness. Granger had just come like a fucking express train, all over his desk, his fingers, and his favourite quill, which he hoped would smell of her essence for a long time hence.

He stood, wrenching his trousers open to free his erection, before giving that up as a waste of time and simply divesting himself of all his clothes with a wandless charm before leaning over her.

"Please allow me to fuck you," he begged, kissing her breasts, reverently.

"Gladly," she replied, "but can we go in the bedroom? I need to change position."

She had barely finished her sentence before he had picked her up from the surface of the desk, wrapping her legs around his slim waist and carrying her across to his bedchamber.

They nearly didn't make it to the bed.

As he paused to magically pull the covers back, he leant her against the bedpost, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him into a deep kiss, pushing her tongue into his mouth and enticing his own out to play.

He wasn't a stupid wizard, and was not about to protest, returning Granger's kiss willingly, and thinking about how damn good it felt to snog this witch as if he were fourteen, not forty. Her kisses were like an art form, every one was different, every one left him wanting more. Severus doubted he would ever tire of the sweet taste of her mouth.

It was only when his erection, standing proudly upright, began to inadvertently sink into her juicy hole that was gradually sliding further downwards, down the bedpost, as his grip on her loosened, that his good sense returned and he hefted her into the bed, following her in and laying on his back, hoping that she would take the hint and climb aboard.

He needn't have worried. Her compulsion ensured that she would take what she needed, and she knelt over him, using her hand to insert the rounded head of his cock inside her, before seating herself fully, allowing the remainder of his prick to slide into place, squeezed blissfully tight in her hot, wet cunt.

"Oh …" she gasped, taking hold of both his hands that he had held out to her, using them as support to thrust against him, adding a rotation to her hips that he'd not felt her do before.

"Fuck me, girl," he hissed, thumping his hips upwards against her, sounding far too lascivious, but he was desperate to spill his load. "Fuck me like you mean it."

Granger doubled her pace, and he shouted out, long and loud, before flipping her onto her back, and reversing their positions.

"I cannot wait," he grimaced, plunging into her like a wizard possessed, feeling his heavy balls slap against her arse with the force of his thrusts. "Forgive me, I cannot wait … holy shit!"

Her face was flushed red against his pillows, her tits bouncing wildly as he thundered home.

Rearing up to kneel, he grabbed hold of her knees and held them apart, pushing them to the sides, watching her body shake as he fucked her, holding her tightly. He watched her face, her tits, her gaping pussy, and her hands as they closed over his, upon her knees.

"Fuck …" he heaved, slamming his final few thrusts home. "Fuck, you should be …"

He came, his mouth spurting as fast and as helplessly as his pulsing cock.

"Mine! You should … be … mine."