Hermione woke slowly, thinking at first that she was still dreaming. She'd fallen asleep, sprawled gracelessly across the bed, after spending the morning with the house elves—all eleven of them and she really didn't like thinking about it—cleaning the debris out of the cottage so that they could begin to rebuild.
She remembered toeing off her boots and lying across the foot of the bed, but he'd pulled her hips to the edge of the bed and positioned her legs over his shoulders.
Her fingers found his hair, tangling in the fine strands of it as she moaned. She was awake now, riding the rolls of building pleasure that grew with each pass of his tongue.
A long finger joined his tongue, dipping inside her, probing, flicking along those sensitive places. His nose rubbed between her folds as his lips closed just there, sucking gently. The world exploded; her eyelids fluttered.
When she could think again, he was still kneeling there between her legs. His chin was shy with her fluid, but that didn't stop her from leaning forward and dropping her feet to the floor on either side of him so that she could kiss him. His mouth taste vaguely of the tea he liked, but mostly of her own muskiness. His tongue probed her mouth the way it had probed her cunt, sending her shivering all over again. She was dripping.
"Hi," she said between kisses. He smiled against her lips, a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest. That rumble was something to die for. It vibrated through his skin and into hers, reaching in and attaching to the most feminine parts of her, making her blood rush through her veins even faster, if that was possible.
"Hi," he murmured, his lips trailing down her neck, tongue teasing the sensitive spot just below her ear, nibbling along her collarbone. She arched into him, chest pressing into is. He took it for the invitation it was, running his hands up along her sides, exploring her ribs with his fingertips until his thumbs found her nipples. They were already pebbled.
Hermione gasped, leaning into him. He unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall off the bed, then tossed her bra down on top of it and sucked a nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirled, teeth grazing ever so slightly. If he kept up like that she would come again before he was even inside her. It was like there was a direct line between the nipple and her clitoris, and she moaned. He grunted, hips twitching. He tore little gasps and moans from her, making her head fall back as he suckled.
He moaned against her, nipple now caught between his teeth. She shivered with her full body, and he released the nipple to smile up at her.
"Impossible man," she said, though it was so breathy that any implied insult was lost.
He ignored the comment, fingers teasing along the waist of her skirt before he pulled it down over her legs. He'd removed her knickers while she was sleeping. When she was spread naked above him, he sat back on his heels and looked at her. Nobody looked at her like that except for him, and it was intoxicating.
He sat forward, rising up to lick around the other nipple, nipping gently at the underside of her breast. She gasped when he blew on the wetness his tongue had left behind, and then he slipped his fingers inside her. One, and then another sliding in entirely without resistance, his thumb finding her clitoris. Rubbing gently. In and out, a rub, a hard suck at her breast. She screamed wordless release as her climax tore through her again.
She lay back bonelessly, breathing hard. This man. This man with his talented tongue and his long fingers.
When she remembered how to move, Hermione rolled on her side to face him where he'd lay down beside her on the bed. She tipped his mouth to her with a finger under his chin. She wondered how he could stand to draw out his own release like this; she went liquid all over again with a simple kiss.
He grinned against her lips when she rolled them over so that she could straddle his thighs. He groaned when she began to undo his belt, teasing his erection through his jeans as she did. She got the belt undone, the zipper down, and he surged forward, catching her mouth with his again. She kissed him back, but was more concerned with his clothes. The shirt had to go; she wanted his skin against hers.
She pulled his shirt over his head and brushed her fingertips down his chest, sucking gently on her favorite spot on his neck right next to the collarbone, below the scars left by the snake. His hips jerked beneath her, and he groaned long and low.
"Please," he whispered, gasping into her hair. If she hadn't already been soaked, that would have done it.
She left off his neck, focusing down, yanking jeans and underwear away, crouching to one side so that he could lift his hips and get his clothes clear. There was a moment of clarity between them. He was propped up on his elbows laying back on the bed, hair standing up every which way, mouth and chin still shiny with her juices, cock standing up between his legs with the tip weeping. She was on her knees beside him, breasts heaving with each breath like a bad romance novel, her hair a frizzed mess.
He reached for her, tracing a fingertip along her jaw. Her nipples hardened all over again at the touch, and her eyelids fluttered shut with the pleasure of it. This man.
"What do you do to me?" she asked. It was rhetorical, of course, be he answered anyway.
"Whatever I want." They shared a wicked grin.
"I hope so."
He pulled her forward, down onto him, her breasts soft against his chest, his cock hard against her thigh. She kissed and licked her way across his jaw, nipping here and there for the reactive jump of his cock.
"Hermione," he growled. It was almost a warning, but it just made her grin.
She lifted up, bringing her legs around so that she was straddling him again. He used one hand to steady her hip, the other to angle his cock between them, sliding home as she lowered herself. A loud keening noise escaped her throat, breaking off in a happy grunt. His head thumped back against the bed softly, his breath harsh before he gave in to a groan too.
"Fuck, witch," he said, putting his other hand on her hip and pulling her down so that she could feel the press of his pubic bone against her clit. Hermione gasped, head falling forward. She bit his shoulder a little, trying to get herself under control. No matter how many times they did this, he could always bring her to the farthest reaches of sensation. The fullness, the very physical need to move, the desire for friction, the bursting red-hot want of him.
She hummed in response to whatever he had said, and moved her legs around until she found some leverage to lift herself a bit. He helped, rocking his hips, using his hands to direct her. Pure, delicious motion. In and out, up and down. The pressure built and built.
"Ah," she gasped, but it wasn't enough. She wanted him deeper but her hips didn't stretch that far, bent as they were already. "Severus."
He moved, pulling out and rolling forward. She hissed at the absence of him, but let him move them around.
He spun her around to face away from him, dipped his fingers in to wet them, then eased the way from behind. She moaned, leaning forward with her arms braced, knees spread wide. He reared up behind her, thrusting home again from the new angle. He put his hands on her hips again, pulling her ass back into him so that he could thrust up and in. She was breathing in time with his thrusts.
"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, yes, yes—Severus!"
Severus groaned, finally allowing himself to come. He burst inside her, a rush of warmth that crawled up deep within her. Her nipples ached in the best way; she felt as though every inch of her vibrated with her heartbeat.
He reached around her, sliding his hand between her legs, and that was all it took before she followed him over the edge. She collapsed forward onto the bed, the fabric of the bedspread scratching deliciously at her nipples.
Severus pulled her to his chest after a moment, stretching out with her. He was pink and shimmering with sweat, scars standing out white and shiny. She pressed her body to his side, bringing her lips to the nearest nipple and teasing it with tongue and teeth. He gasped, but didn't do anything to stop her. Her hand found its way down, tracing the lines of his cock with her fingertips until she felt him begin to rise again.
She left off his nipple, smiling at him as she crawled down his body. She kissed her way down Severus's belly, fingers tickling the dark thatch of hair. Licking down the length of him, sucking gently at the tip. Fingertips massaging his balls as she nipped at him, watched him swell to full erection again. The smell of him was intoxicating—pure man musk, going straight to her head and then down from there.
She started small, a little bit at a time, teasing. He tried to wait her out, groaning and flexing under her, fists balling up the bedspread. He never could, though. Before long, his hands were in her hair, urging her on, guiding her head. She smiled.
Finally, she planted her hands on his hips and swallowed him in. It wasn't comfortable, but that didn't matter much. He convulsed, knees jerking, hips twitching. He wasn't in control, and it was delicious.
He came again, this time it rushed down her throat. She swallowed it down, licking all around after he finished to be sure she'd gotten it all. She liked the taste of him.
"Hermione," he groaned again, lying back as if his bones were made of mush. Still smiling, she crawled up to lay on his chest, licking her lips because she knew it would drive him mad. She was wet and wanting again, and he had better know it.
They lay there for a moment, panting slightly. He looked like he was torn between drifting off to sleep and ravishing her. She kissed the side of his neck just beneath his jaw, smirking down at him, and tucked herself into his side.
They were quiet for so long that Hermione was almost sure he'd gone to sleep. Then Severus twined his fingers with hers and guided her hand down to his cock. They stroked him together, caressing and bringing him up. They were both breathing hard.
"You must've taken something before you woke me," she said, smirking against his neck when he twisted them around so that she lay beneath him. He only smirked back at her, spreading her legs. She obediently looped her ankles around his hips as he moved forward.
He leaned over her, first sinking into her and then pressing their stomachs and chests together, lowering down until his face was over hers, breathing the same air. He braced his elbows on either side of her head and stared right into her eyes as he began to move.
She shuddered, squeezing him deliberately with inner muscles. He closed his eyes momentarily, and when he opened them again they were blazing. She smiled up and him and did it again, rolling her hips as she did. He gasped and picked up his pace, pounding into her now. She dragged her nails down his back, fueling his fervor. They both came after only a few more thrusts, screaming.
There was no question after that; they both fell asleep.
Severus woke to the sound of his wife screaming. He jerked upright, shoving her behind him, blinking confusedly because she'd already stopped shouting. His foot was tangled in the blankets, making his twist awkwardly around her. She started laughing.
"Wha?" he managed, trying to see through the dark of their bedroom.
"You're a bloody Neanderthal," Hermione said, laughing. She writhed behind him for a moment until she was out from under him. He let himself flop back onto the bed, glaring at her.
"You screamed."
"I was startled."
"By what?"
"Whom," she said in that prim way she did when she was correcting him in order to get on his nerves. He rolled his eyes.
"By whom?"
"Thorpe."
"Thorpe is sorry, sir! Mistress!"
Hermione lit her wand tip, and Severus turned to look over the side of the bed closest to where Hermione had been sleeping. Thorpe stood beside the bed wringing her ears, overlarge swamp-green eyes bulging nervously.
"What were you even doing?" Hermione asked, grabbing the nearest item of clothing, one of his t-shirts, and pulling it on. "You scared the life out of me."
"I didn't! I didn't, Mistress. I promise! That is what Thorpe was checking."
Severus blinked. The proud terror chased through him like it had done twice before. That sensation that made him want to lock Hermione in a nice, cozy suite of rooms where nothing could get at her for nine months or so, and also made him want to bring her with him everywhere to show off their impending arrival to everybody he knew.
"Next time, tell me before you do any checking, Thorpe."
"Yes, Mistress! I'm sorry, Mistress. Thorpe will slam her fingers twice in the door!"
"Don't do that," Hermione snapped.
"But Mistress—"
"I said don't do it, so don't do it."
"Yes, Mistress."
"And you," Hermione said, turning to point her finger at him now. "Stop smiling like an idiot."
Severus scowled at her. He hadn't noticed that he was smiling.
Hermione breezed out of the room, letting the door snap shut behind her. Severus let himself smile again.
"How far along, Thorpe?" he asked the elf, turning to look at her. She stood where Hermione had left her, wringing her hands now instead of her ears.
"Weeks, sir," Thorpe said. "Don't know how many. Thorpe didn't finish because the mistress woke up!"
"That's fine, Thorpe." Then he added, "Thank you," because Hermione would like that. Thorpe bobbed something that could have been a bow or a curtsy (or possibly she just lost her balance for a moment at the novelty of being thanked) and disappeared.
\\
August passed in a flash.
Draco moved in to the Malfoys' London house, gladly leaving the Manor to the Aurors after he retrieved his broomstick and some clothes. He Flooed often with questions about becoming a Healer, always writing to Severus though it was Hermione who answered the questions.
By the end of the month, the cottage was habitable, and they moved in. It was bare bones, plaster still drying on the walls, but the students were due to arrive at the castle and Severus certainly didn't want to be around for that. A clean break, a fresh start for the students; it was necessary.
"Which one's the bedroom?" Bast asked, and it broke Severus's heart a little.
"You can each have your own room, if you want," Hermione said, leading the way up the stairs. Severus stayed at the bottom for a moment, wondering if he'd failed as a father by putting his son in a position to ask that question. What the hell business did he have bringing somebody into the world if…?
"Come on, Dad!" Bast shouted down the stairs, half hanging off the railing as he looked over from the landing above. "There are almost as many rooms here as there were in Kenilworth!"
Just like that, the weight was gone.
How the hell does he do that?
He followed his family up the stairs. The landing was airy, with a big window at the top of the stairs. It looked out over the front of the house, the terrace that they'd left grassy and the beautiful stone steps that led to further grassy yard. There was nothing but Scottish moors as far as the eye could see.
The twins were insisting on sharing a room. The Weasley twins had spun tales of bunk beds, and the girls were enamored of the idea. Bast had half a mind to share a room with the girls until he realized he'd be right across the hall.
"So is this your room? Or is this your room?" Bast asked, running from one room at the back of the house to the other.
"This one," Hermione said, stepping into the master suite. They'd yet to do any spellwork on the house, so the room felt small—the room's one window looked out at the tree that had grown through the conservatory and been incorporated into the reconstructed space during reconstruction.
"You can't see anything out the window," Sofia observed.
"We'll fix that once we get settled."
"What's this room for, then?" Ellie asked, standing in the final bedroom. Severus glanced at Hermione, noting that she had a hand resting on her belly. She wasn't showing at all—they'd seen a mediwitch midwife the week before, and she was just six weeks along—but it was the knowing there was another life in there that made her do it. He'd caught himself doing the same when they settled in for sleep.
"What about if we made it a nursery for a little brother or sister?" Severus asked. "What would you think of that?"
Sofia and Elaine glanced at each other like they were considering the question, but Bast just blinked, then asked, "Can it be a brother? I've already got sisters."