Sorry again for the delay, readers! Hopefully the length will make up for my tardiness : )

The next morning, Hermione stirred, stretched, and immediately felt strong, warm arms tight around her. Unaccustomed to the pleasure of it, she snuggled closer against the firm torso pressing against her back. A deep, low rumble sounded in her ear and suddenly there were lips against her neck. She wiggled her hips experimentally and felt a rock hard length flexing against her. Suddenly his knee pressed between hers from behind to part her legs and he slid into her.

With both arms wrapped tightly around her and his face pressed against her neck, Severus slowly eased back and thrust forward again. There was no rush, no urgency in the movements. His fingers ran lightly up and down the skin of her torso, stopping to cup her breasts and then tease the top of her sex. She rolled her hips back against him, unable to do any more.

Slowly, the intensity of their union built until the sound of panting and moans filled the room. When he would have teased her longer, Hermione impatiently took matters into her own hands and slipped her fingers into the slick juncture where they were joined. It only took a few quick strokes before she was arching against him, calling his name and feeling herself clench around him uncontrollably.

Severus came immediately. The sound of his name on her lips, not spoken in derision or mocking or even casual acquaintance, but in intimate, erotic pleasure, was more than he could take. He bit down on her shoulder and let the shuddering release wash over him.

Hermione relaxed into the bed and enjoyed the feel of the breeze drying the sweat on her skin. "Well, there's one advantage of having live-in service," she said with a laugh. Rather than join her, Severus got up abruptly and searched through the bottles on his armoire. Why did he care that she reminded him they were only employer and employee? He knew there was nothing emotional or romantic between them. So why was he suddenly so angry?

She pushed herself up to sitting and looked over to where he was standing. Still naked, he turned back and went to her with a dropper in his fingers. Roughly, he pushed her hair back over her shoulder and squeezed several drops of dittony on the bite mark there.

"Put two more drops on this afternoon if it's still bothering you," he said deadpan, then went into the washroom and closed the door behind him. A moment later, Hermione heard the sounds of the shower running. She looked down at the small bottle he'd pushed into her hands and then tried to turn her head to look at the mark he'd left. She had barely even felt it, she'd been so wrapped up in her orgasm. The bite was small, just four dots where his canines had dug into her skin, and they were already disappearing because of the dittony. Was the bite what had upset him so?

She shook her head at his mood swings and refused to let it hamper her morning. She'd woken up feeling happy and secure for the first time in years, then had a fantastic orgasm, and wasn't about to allow his moodiness to affect her. Smiling, she bounced off the bed and boldly entered the bathroom. He didn't hear her until she slipped into the shower and stepped under the spray. He stopped with his hands in his hair, lather dripping down his neck and beginning to fall into his eyes. She grinned and wiped the white foam away before it could sting him. With a quick accio she summoned her recently purchased washing items to the shower with them and offered him the soap, turning her back to him.

"Would you mind?" she asked coyly. He growled at her cheek but began to wash her back anyway. Despite his resolve to be brusque and businesslike, each stroke sent his fingers skimming closer and closer to her breasts. Soon, he'd given up all pretense of disinterest and ran his slick hands over every inch of her skin that he could reach. She turned in his arms and stopped him when he would have lifted her legs around his waist. Instead, she pulled them both under the spray until the last of the suds were rinsed clean, then backed herself against the wall of the shower and beckoned him with a crook of her finger. He gladly accepted the invitation, hooking one of her legs over his arm and then bracing his hands against the wall behind her for leverage to thrust into her.

It was everything their earlier romp hadn't been. Rough and intense, both fighting and clawing their way toward climax. Hermione's nails sank into his back, scoring the skin as she urged him harder and faster. He pounded into her, spurred on by her fervor and his ever growing desperation for her. When she came, he slammed himself into her and stilled, letting her slick heat clench around him over and over again. With one final thrust, he gave into his need and spilled inside her.

Panting, their foreheads rested together. Water dripped off them, steam curled around them. Severus' eyes searched Hermione's, looking for...what? Acceptance? He already had that from her. Connection? They'd had that almost from the first. Affection? He stopped, pushing himself from the thought. He didn't want her affection. He didn't really even care what she thought about him. She could despise him for all he cared. So why was he still searching for something more in the depths of her eyes?

Disgusted with himself, he stepped back, let the water rinse over him for a moment, and then put a hand on her shoulder and pressed down. It was a move he'd done often enough during their encounters at the whorehouse that Hermione knew what he wanted. She dropped to her knees and took his semi-hard cock between her lips. Though the water had washed away most of the evidence of the sex they'd just had, she could still taste a hint of salty and sweet on him. The two of them, mingled together. She moaned a little, her body still tensing with aftershocks. He quickly grew hard in her mouth and without him having to press her, she let the tip of him slide into her throat. She stifled a satisfied smile when he gasped and his hips bucked forward. Again and again she took him deep, until he pulled back, lifted her to her feet, and bent her over. She barely had time to brace her hands against the shower wall before he slicked his cock and began pressing it into her ass.

Her body was still relaxed enough from her climax that he slid all the way inside without her feeling more than mild discomfort. When he withdrew and slammed back into her, she gasped. Not at the brutality of his thrusts- that she was accustomed to- but at the way her body clenched in reaction. They'd done this after an orgasm many times before. And while she'd come to not mind it, and maybe even enjoy it some, it had never brought her release. She waited, and when he thrust forward again, her body tightened and tingled once more. Emboldened and more than a little curious, she took one of her hands off the wall and began to stroke herself. Her body was still primed and between his onslaught and her ministrations, she rose to climax startlingly quickly. She screamed, her back bowing as the intensity of her orgasm tore through her.

Severus felt her body tense and had to grip her hips hard to keep thrusting as she came again. The feel of the scalding water beating down on his back and her squeezing him so tightly had him closing his eyes against the pleasure. He followed her into nirvana, helpless to do anything else. He didn't even try and stifle the hoarse cry that was rent from him. They stayed joined like that for long moments, aftershocks of pleasure jolting through them. Then, slowly, Severus disentangled and leaned back until he was fully under the spray of the water. Each drop that landed on his waning erection made his belly tighten and his breath catch.

Hermione straightened, a dreamy and satisfied smile on her face. When she thought her arms would work again, she poured shampoo into her hands and began to lather her hair. "Stop hogging all the water," she griped playfully, nudging him out of the way. He moved without complaint and once he was behind her, he took over the job of washing her hair. As his skilled fingers massaged her scalp, she had to lock her knees to keep them from buckling. If he kept that up, she was going to melt into a puddle of satisfied, thoroughly pleasured witch right there on the shower floor. He rinsed her hair, then added conditioner and worked his fingers through the strands. It took time and patience, but no one had ever accused Severus Snape of rushing or half-assing a job. When he had the entire length coated, he coiled her hair into a bun to let the mass soak. Then he nudged her out of the way and turned his attention to washing his body.

Feeling properly spoiled, Hermione was content to stand back and watch him. The way his long, sure fingers worked the soap into a lather. How his pale skin grew slick under his hands. The way droplets of water slid over his surprisingly defined muscles. She had seen his body many, many times. She'd even been grateful for it's youth and vigor more than once. But for the first time she was able to truly appreciate him. Who would have guessed that under all those billowing black robes was a body lean and toned enough to make a woman pant?

She thought back to the way he'd looked when she had seen him last at Hogwarts and realized just how different he appeared now. The face was still the same, black eyes, hooked nose, and crooked teeth. But it seemed that the stains that had perpetually marred his teeth were gone, and it was obvious that his hair was clean. As soon as wondered why he hadn't paid more attention to his appearance she knew the answer. They had been in the midst of a war. Playing both sides, having to carefully consider every word and action lest his part as a spy be discovered, watching over Harry and his impetuous friends (herself included), plus his regular teaching duties... She was honestly surprised he'd even had the time to put on clean robes every day, and thought the elves were probably the only reason for that. His physical appearance had probably been the furthest thing from his mind. And how could she blame him?

Now, though, he had the leisure of taking the time to properly groom himself. No wonder he'd always been so particular about folding his clothes so they didn't wrinkle and keeping himself clean and disease free. Idly, she wondered if he jogged or did yoga to keep his body so toned or if it just came naturally. The image of him in downward dog popped into her head and made her giggle. His eyes darted to her and he attempted to glower. Instead, he found himself half smiling back.

"I'm glad to see your mood's improved," she said cheekily.

Unwilling to admit what had upset him earlier, he made light of it. "And here I thought you were used to my unpleasant disposition."

"Oh I wouldn't say that. You're actually quite a lot of fun when you're not trying to project your 'Snape' persona."

He glared at her sourly. "Since I am Snape, I fail to see how it can be a persona. This is merely the way I am."

"You're trying to tell me that the Snape that went around banging doors open and barking insults at children is the real you, and that the man that massages my scalp and makes me breakfast is- what?- a show?" She shook her head, stepping under the water to rinse her hair. "I don't buy it."

"Even someone as infuriatingly cheerful as yourself would start barking insults after having to deal with insipid teenagers all day every day for more than a decade."

"Maybe," she agreed, turning off the water and stepping out of the shower. "But don't try and tell me that's the way you normally are now. I know better." He followed her out of the shower and tossed her a towel before wrapping one around himself.

"Oh really? I fail to see how you can be so sure. Up till yesterday you've only seen me immediately before and directly after sex. Maybe fucking just puts me in a good mood."

Hermione quickly buffed her body dry and then wrapped her hair turban style in the towel for it to dry. She sauntered stark naked into the bedroom. "Nope," she called back over her shoulder. "Not buying that either."

Severus had to force his eyes away from the provocative swing of her hips. "And here I thought you were bright," he drawled in his trademark baritone. She turned to him and flashed a beautiful, blinding smile.

"Why, Severus, I think that's the first real compliment you've ever given me."

"It was meant to be an insult."

"Too bad. No take-backsies." Then she skipped down the stairs and rifled through the bags of clothes they'd neglected on the floor. While he watched, one hip resting against the banister of the stairs, she slipped into a simple matching bra and panties and then put on the yellow dress he'd picked out. "Well, what do you think?" She did a little twirl, sending the hem of the skirt sweeping out and flirting with her thighs. When she stopped, it floated back down to her knees.

He'd meant to make some backhanded comment about her being barely passable. At the least he'd intended to dismiss her. Instead, he found himself striding over to her, twining his fingers deep in her damp hair, and kissing her as if he were dying of thirst and she was a wellspring. And perhaps, in a way, that was true. She gasped, surprised at first, then moaned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. When he broke the kiss, he stared down at her, enjoying the dazed look in her eyes. "Good enough to eat."

"Well," she blushed and bit her bottom lip. "I guess I'll be wearing this one a lot." She laughed and then turned to her other bags. "Where do you think I should-" she gestured to the rest of the clothing.

"There is plenty of room in my closet." He grabbed several of the bags but then stopped when a sudden thought occurred to him. "Unless you will be needing your own room, in which case-"

"No, yours is fine if you like. Hell, for the deal I'm getting, this," she gestured down her body in a sweeping motion, "is an all night buffet." Severus' expression turned black, reminded once more that nothing between them was real. "Besides, this morning was...nice." She started to look a little wistful but shook her head. The storm clouds that had gathered on his brow cleared. "I mean, the sex was good, it always is. But it was nice not to wake up alone, too. It's been a long time." Shrugging, she picked up the rest of the bags and started up the stairs. Severus followed, wondering when her last real relationship had been. He knew her dalliance with the Weasley boy hadn't lasted long. Surely she'd had other beaus after that.

"For me as well," he admitted, more candid because he wasn't facing her. Since the first war, in fact. But he didn't think she would relish the details of those brief encounters. Back in the bedroom, he set the bags down by the closet and let her arrange them how she wished. She was organized and meticulous, and in a short time his closet was half filled with feminine things. He used the time to dress himself, pretending not to have any interest in what she was doing, all the while watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"There," she said, smoothing down the skirt of her dress. "All set. How about breakfast? I happen to know that you've done enough exertion this morning to work up an appetite. I'll cook." When he inclined his head in agreement, she smiled. "Good. How do pancakes sound?"

"Delightful, I'm sure."

She cooked, humming to herself as she moved around the kitchen happily. While they ate she chattered off and on, occasionally making his lips twist up into a smile. Halfway through their meal, the post owl swooped in through the open window and dropped the paper in the butter dish. "Blasted bird!" Severus swatted at the offending owl and it nipped at his fingers. "Fuck!" A bright red welt marred his finger. "Here!" he conceded, fishing a few knuts from his pocket and dropping them in the bird's leg pouch. "Now off with you before I turn you into a bookend." The owl glared at him as if in challenge, but took off when Severus reached for his wand menacingly.

Hermione laughed at the display and plucked the paper from the butter, wiping it with her napkin before unrolling it to hand to Severus. Before she could, though, the picture on the front caught her eye. It was a flutter of lace, sheer and delicate, and then beside it... was that her face? It was. She was standing in the intimates shop next to Severus, holding up a negligee for him to see. Instantly, her face flamed. How had they been seen?

Then she read the headline and her stomach dropped.

Whoring Hermione Servicing Sex Crazed Snape?

After yesterday's breaking story about a disgraced Hermione Granger selling herself in a brothel, no one thought the muggle-born could sink any lower. Not hours after the article's publication, though, she was seen in a sex shop with none other than ex-Professor Severus Snape, whose almost-heroism and subsequent fall from grace was widely publicized. Unless the arrangement is long standing, it can only be assumed that the sketchy Snape sought out his old student to purchase her 'services' as soon as he found out the news. Though there have never been any allegations of sexual misconduct brought against the Slytherin Potions Master, this reporter is sure that his deviant sexual appetites being brought to light will unearth-

Severus watched the expressions change on Hermione's face and realized what the cover story must be about. He snatched the paper from her hand and ripped the whole thing in half. "There is nothing in this but garbage. You should know better than to put any stock in what it says."

"They don't need to say anything! They've got pictures," she choked out. Severus glanced at the top half of the torn paper. There was, indeed, a picture. The two of them looking at racy lingerie. The only way it could have been more damning was if it had caught them mid-coitus.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," he muttered. "Just ignore it. They don't-"

"Ignore it? Ignore it?! I've spent years trying to rebuild my life! Years locked away from the world, letting men fuck me, knock me around, degrade me, use me however the fuck they want, so that I could start over! I took every feasible precaution to keep anyone from ever finding out my identity specifically to keep this from ever coming out. There is no coming back from this. None. The possibility of getting a job to get out of this contract is gone. And when that's done, I'll be back to where I started. The only work I'll ever be able to get is on my back." Her voice rose and rose in anger until she was nearly hyperventilating. Anger turned to terror as her life flashed before her eyes. Everything she'd ever worked for, hoped for, dreamed for, was gone, just like that.

She shoved away from the table, and instantly her head swam. Severus rushed to her side and caught her as her knees buckled and her eyes rolled back. "Hermione? Hermione!" He laid her on the couch and when she still didn't rouse he snatched a rejuvenating potion from the cabinet and poured it down her throat. She coughed, sputtered, and her eyes fluttered open.

"Did...I pass out?" She tried to sit up but Severus pushed her back down gently.

"Indeed you did."

"Merlin's balls, that's embarrassing. I've never passed out in my entire life. I'm fine, I'm fine," she insisted, waving away his hands and sitting up. "I don't know what came over me."

"I think you have the right to lose your cool a little," he reminded her gently. She nodded and let her head fall into her hands. What the hell was she going to do?

"I...I think I need to be alone for a little while. I just need to think. Do you mind if I go upstairs or something?"

"By all means. I have several brews I must attend to today, so I'll be in my laboratory. I have some thinking to do as well."

"Oh Severus, I'm sorry. I've been thinking only of myself, and your name got dragged through the mud as well. I know how upset you were about me having been a student of yours, and of course that's the first thing they focus on."

"It's fine." He rubbed his temples tiredly. "I am used to being the sacrificial lamb on the altar of publicity. After twenty years of bad press, then the book that Skeeter woman wrote, what they have to say about me won't affect my life or business in any way."

"That doesn't make it right, or fair," she insisted.

"The world is rarely a fair place in my experience." They sat in silence for a moment before Severus rose to his feet and sent their breakfast dishes to the sink with a wave of his wand. He froze when Hermione went to his side, lifted to her tiptoes, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Thanks for everything."

"I- you're welcome," he finally managed to say while she walked slowly towards the stairs. Suddenly, he felt tied up in knots inside. He wasn't equipped to handle situations like this. His own public shaming had never bothered him much, except as an inconvenience. But she had a life she could have gone back to. A future that could have been bright and happy. Now she would be forever tarnished with her past. Worse, her association with him would only drag her further down.

He didn't even attempt to tell himself that he didn't care. That she was nothing more than a whore to him. Because even with as good as he'd gotten at lying to himself over the course of his life, there was no chance of believing that one. Despite everything that had happened between them, or maybe in a lot of ways because of it, she meant more to him. Much more. And making sure she had a chance to have a normal life some day was suddenly vitally important to him. But how? He knew almost better than anyone how impossible it was to turn back public opinion once it had pounced on it's victim.

In his lab, he let his fingers dance over his work as he put his mind to the task of how to fix the situation with Hermione. The brewing was precision work, but he'd done these potions so many times that they were second nature to him. He stirred the healing potion twice clockwise, thrice anti-clockwise, and thought about how they could deny the accusations. Because the reporting for the Daily Prophet was nearly all rumor and conjecture- dice four newt tails- there wasn't any way to hold the author or publisher accountable for lies. And even if there were, how would they -crush a dozen lacewing flies- prove the article was a falsehood when it was, in fact, mostly based in truth?

He flitted around the dozens of cauldrons dotting the lab for hours before he came up with the only solution possible. Even once he'd had the idea, he rejected it and tried to find another. When he realized there wasn't any other option, he thought of all the reasons it wouldn't work. Why Hermione would likely laugh in his face for suggesting it. Or slap him again. His cheekbone still smarted from her strike the morning before. Even still, he would have to risk her wrath. The least he could do was present the option to her and let her make the choice. Which was the lesser of two evils.