"It is…generous of you, Natasha, but I must decline," Severus said evenly.
"Really, Severus, I never pegged you as a prude."
"Nor am I one."
Hearing the unmistakable voice of Natasha Avery, Hermione stepped into the shadows outside his door before she could be seen. Hermione was still able to discern her Potions Master and his…guest from her vantage point. Natasha was sitting on Severus's bed. Hermione desperately wished Natasha was back in her chair, the irony of the wish not lost on her.
"Am I not enticing enough for you?" Natasha leaned over him and ran her fingernails from the inside of his wrist, twisting up his bare arm to his elbow. She pulled Severus's hand towards her mouth, licking her lips then kissing the tips of each of his fingers one by one. Hermione thought of state of her own fingernails after spending most of yesterday afternoon preparing Severus's garden—and blanched.
He stared at Natasha's face dispassionately. "Obviously, you are an attractive witch. No wizard would argue that fact."
"Then why decline, Severus? It would be but a taste of what I could do for you. No strings attached," she purred.
"No strings attached? I thought we agreed to be honest here."
Natasha laughed. It was a high pitched sound that reminded Hermione of bells tinkling. Hermione supposed it might sound pleasant to the right wizard. She hoped Severus was not that wizard. "Honestly, we don't have to agree to anything more than…an exploration for now, at least. An experiment to see whether we are compatible, if you will."
"An experiment," he echoed.
"You have a reputation of indulging in…unconventional things," she said with an evil smile. "It just so happens my tastes run in the same direction." She pulled his hand to her mouth again, licked her lips, and wrapped her lips around his index finger, pushing it entirely inside and drawing it out languidly, leaving a trail of lipstick behind.
He cocked an eyebrow but otherwise did not react. "And you have a reputation of indulging in…everything."
She tittered a laugh. "True," she said, "but I do have my favourite things." She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "Especially…" Hermione couldn't hear the rest. Nor did she want to. Natasha stopped whispering, but still leaned over him and nipped his ear.
"I'm afraid I must still decline," he said flatly.
"Very well, then." She pouted, sitting up straighter on the edge of the bed. "But you never answered my question. Why refuse me?" she asked.
He paused. "My reasons are my own."
"I see." Natasha rose. "Best of luck then, Severus," she said, her voice becoming somewhat colder with each word. She strode towards the door without a backward glance. Hermione ducked behind a sideboard filled with bottles of potions and stayed there, too weak in the knees to stand.
"Hermione," he called softly, once the sound of Natasha's retreat had faded into silence.
Of course he knew she was there. She convinced herself to move out of the shadows and presented herself to him in the doorway.
"Forgive me," Severus said, his velvet voice catching on the words.
"Forgive you?" Hermione walked into the room in the semidarkness.
"For not telling her the real reason I refused her."
"The real reason?" she repeated numbly.
"She will discover what it is before long. Rather who it is. Natasha's attention span is rather short, however. It is my hope that she has moved on before realizing she lost the wizard she wanted for her latest plaything to a Muggleborn." He looked down at his index finger, frowned, and silently vanished the lipstick.
"It sounds as though she was interested in more than that. Sounds like she was vying for something more permanent." Hermione tried to keep the petulance out of her voice. She didn't think she succeeded.
"Likely, as I suspected when she visited me when you two met. She desires a husband, and thinks she's found one to suit her. It doesn't matter. But Natasha can be rather…spiteful when she doesn't get her way. I would spare you that. I have no interest in reciprocating her advances; my affections lie elsewhere. I believe we spoke of this matter already…?"
"I suppose."
"Hermione…" She looked at him then, truly looked. She saw the pain in his eyes, even in the half-dark. "I will not lose you over some ill-timed attempt by a desperate witch to get in my bed."
"Severus, I—"
"Come here."
Although her heart was conflicted, her feet obeyed. As she stood at the edge of the bed, Severus looked up at her and pulled the linens open. "Let me…may I…would you?" he stumbled. "There's room."
Laying her bag on her chair, she yanked off her trainers, and crawled into the warmth with him, turning to place her back against his chest. She settled into his arms, vaguely wondering what she had tacitly agreed to. He raised his wand to lock the door.
"There seems to be enough room for me in your bed. But is there room for me in your life, Severus? What do you want?" she whispered.
"What do I want?" he chuckled. "I can't recall anyone even asking me that before." He drew her closer, pressing his arms around her more tightly. He paused for a moment, then continued, "I want…to fall asleep holding your hand—and wake up with it still in mine—for the rest of my life. I want to see your ridiculous hair spilling all over your pillow in the bed we share. I want to shape my life around yours, to craft a life together that will fulfill both of our desires." And the world fell away beneath her, granting her just enough of a fleeting, backward glance to recognize that this was the breath when everything between them changed from possible to probable. They would try. The moment left her giddy. And terrified.
He leaned towards her to kiss her hair, his velvet voice soft and trembling from behind her. "Right now, I want to make love to you. But I don't want the first time to be here, in the infirmary, and tonight, after that witch tried to seduce me." At his words, her stomach dropped. She found she couldn't speak; instead, she entwined her fingers more tightly in his as a reply.
He went on, his voice becoming steadier, "I want to make love to you in my bed—in our bed—for hours and hours on end. I want to lie with you on soft rugs in front of a fire, and kiss you until we both can no longer speak. And everything else you and I dare imagine."
She held her breath as she felt his, warm and tender, caressing her hair. He continued, "I want to make you breakfast in bed, and fill the kitchen with the smell of jasmine tea. I want to wash your hair in the shower every morning. I want to fulfill your every desire, your every wish, your every whim." She heard him swallow, as if this next admission, this confession, was hard for him. "I don't give my heart easily, Hermione. Nor am I easily distracted. But I am yours, and I will be yours for as long as you'll have me, and far past that, as well.
"Understand that nothing…no one will ever come between you and I. Not Lily Evans. And certainly not Natasha Avery."
Hermione let herself breathe again and smiled into the semidarkness. "Not even Poppy?" she teased.
He chuckled deeply. "Not even Poppy."
She rolled over to face him, and reached up to caress his face. She closed her eyes as his lips touched hers and he kissed her tenderly. She turned away from him, snuggling her back into his warmth.
"Let me hold you while you sleep," he whispered and she closed her eyes to drift away in the safety of his arms.
Hermione awoke to find herself in exactly the same position as when she fell asleep, spooned up against her Potions Master's lean frame with one of his arms under her neck and the other encircling her waist. She sensed that he was already awake, and murmured a cleansing spell for her morning mouth. "Good morning," she whispered.
"Good morning," Severus said. She rolled over to face him. His fathomless black eyes were gentle. "How did you sleep?"
"Better than I have in a long time."
"I'm glad to hear it."
She leaned closer and he kissed her gently. "We need to get you out of this bloody infirmary," she said.
"Such language from such an angel…" He took her face in his hands and kissed her thoroughly. Her stomach flipped.
"Now you're not being nice…" she said breathlessly when he was through twisting her brain into mush.
"Who me?" he said, raising an eyebrow.
"Teasing a girl like that. You should be ashamed of yourself."
"Consider me horribly abashed." He kissed her again. "Beside myself with shame."
"Regret."
"Oh, no…never, ever that," he said, smiling wickedly and running the tips of his fingers over her shirt against her nipples.
"Merlin, Severus, you have to stop. You're killing me," she moaned.
"A reprimand from the Daily Prophet's most eligible witch? I seem to remember you crawling into this bed quite on your own."
"Perhaps I was under the Imperious."
"Oh, I doubt that. I've never needed to use the Imperious on any witch before," he said with a smirk.
"I am not just any witch. And may I suggest that you don't mention any other witches while I am lying in bed next to you?"
"Jealous, are we?" he asked, raising a teasing eyebrow.
"Keep talking about them and I might use the Time Turner and erase all the witches who have ever gotten within a foot of you."
"It would be a shame to lose Poppy just because she changed a bandage or two," he mused.
"It wouldn't be the bandages that would do her in. It would be the sponge baths."
"You would deprive me of my sponge baths? When it's my favourite time of day?"
"Hmmm. I thought your favourite time of day was when I was here?" she quipped. He smiled at her like a Cheshire cat. "What?"
"I was just imaging you giving me a sponge bath."
"Severus!"
He laughed. "I suppose I'll have to suffer Poppy's until I leave."
When Hermione had finally forced herself out of his bed in the infirmary—only because it was time for Poppy to make her rounds—she Apparated to the cottage to prepare for her day. Damn, as if she could function with her thoughts in such a delightful jumble.
...I am yours, and I will be yours for as long as you'll have me, and far past that, as well…
She had forgotten to tell him about her bobcat. Fuck, she would forget how to tie her trainers if he kept saying things like that. It was the second night in a row that she had slept next to him…in his bed…in his arms. Merlin, it had been the best night of her life. And she hadn't even been awake for most of it.
OK, Hermione, get a grip. You have stuff to do today.
Pulling on her coat, she set out to walk to Hogsmeade village to purchase stores for the pantry and refrigerator. Once she brought home what they needed—he needed, she corrected herself—she had one more shopping trip to do for a somewhat of a…housewarming gift.
When she arrived at Foyles, she strode directly to the reference section. Would he remember her tease?
"Just the dictionary today, miss?" said the clerk as she placed the book at the counter to pay.
"Yes, thank you."
Now she just needed to figure out how to charm the book into the way she wanted it, and decide where to keep it hidden until she caught up to herself in time.
Hermione walked in to his room in the infirmary to find Severus standing and looking out onto the Hogwarts grounds. Had he been watching for her? Her breath caught. His lean form silhouetted by the dark window was so extraordinarily sexy. He turned when he heard her enter. "Hello."
"Hello." She smiled and walked over to stand next to him. "You look ready to go home."
"Yes," he sighed, softening it with a smile. "It has been a long road." He reached down to brush a curl away from her face.
"It has, Severus," she responded, unable to keep herself from drawing closer to him. "How have you managed to keep it straight? I mean, my past self sees you every afternoon. But I see you every night. Don't you ever get confused?"
He huffed one of those laughs she adored. "I almost kissed you as we were walking to the lake earlier today. Do you remember?" he asked, his infinitely dark eyes sparkling with amusement.
"In fact, I do. I would have liked that, you know. I feel a distinct loss from what might have been. My heart may not recover."
"Mine either. Can I make it up to you now?" he whispered, pulling her to him.
"Now, and later today, and tomorrow, and the day after that…"
It was all she was able to say before his lips were on hers.
"Hermione, have you ever taken anyone to your bed?" Severus asked, his velvet voice gentle but serious.
It was his last night in the Hogwarts infirmary. She was laying in his arms, comfortable, warm, and content. "No, Severus," she answered softly.
"So I will tell you what will happen between us tomorrow."
"Oh." It was all she could manage.
"When you are alone tomorrow, spending your morning at the cottage while I am still here, I want you in my bed. I want you there remembering everything that I am about to describe to you right now. I want you imagining all that will happen between us, and everything you will feel. I want you…preparing for me…for us…" He took her index finger and placed the tip of it in between his lips and touched it to his tongue. She got his message and flushed.
"When you arrive tomorrow night, we will have dinner and wine," he whispered. "When we have had our fill, I will take you to my bed and undress you. And when I have explored all of you, and you are begging for the rest of me, I will enter you slowly, watching every nuance on your face as we become one for the first time."
Hermione swallowed then bit her lip.
"When we have…finished there, I will fold you over the edge of my bed and claim you properly, hard and fast, gripping you by a handful of your adorable hair. The only sensations left for you will be the sound of my name on your lips and the feeling of your lover taking you from behind." His whisper had turned into a growl, wrapping itself around her belly and refusing to let her go.
A moan escaped her. "I don't want to wait," she whispered.
"I know, angel," he breathed. "I know."
He kissed her hair. "Then when we are ready, I will draw you a warm bath, and after we have enjoyed…additional pleasures there, I will carry you back to my bed where I will wrap my arms around you until we both fall asleep.
"Does that sound…all right with you?"
"Severus," she said, finally finding her voice, "it sounds perfect."