A/N: Thank you for your lovely reviews, favorites, and follows! All of those feed the hungry Muse. And thank you, dearest readers for your patience. Chapter 11 is almost polished and will be posted this week.

Warning: MATURE. Here be *LEMONS* (or what feels like an entire lemon tree). You've been warned. :)

Many thanks to my wonderful betas Catahoulaqueen, anhaas52009, and Aislin Elizabeth. This chapter would not be the same without their input. And a shout out to corvusdraconis for alerting me to rather interesting typo.

As always, thanks for reading.

-slbb

Wrapping her mind around that fact that she was very likely going to sleep with Severus the following day had kept Hermione awake the night before for what seemed like hours. His whispered words had possessed her, haunting every muscle in her body and sparking a desire she never knew she was capable of. Since tearing herself out of his infirmary bed this morning, she'd barely been able to sit still. She'd wanted to latch her aching jaw on him and not let go. Not to mention that she'd had to change her panties twice.

"…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…"

Who the hell says that?

Hermione smiled ruefully. That bastard knew exactly what he was doing to her.

At least she was at the cottage now. And, coincidentally…alone.

The pantry and refrigerator were stocked. The seedlings were watered. Everything Severus had set aside for her, she'd unpacked. The house elves had tidied up everything else…so what should she do? She wandered into his bedroom, and stood there, staring at his big, mahogany bed. Would their first time together be right there?

Merlin, it was a monstrous thing.

Different words tugged at her now, ones that were more than a suggestion, yet not quite a command: "…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…"

At one time, she would have never considered doing what he had asked her to do. At one time, if there was any…exploration of her body that was going to be done, someone else was going to be the one to do it, thank-you-very-much.

Things were a bit…different now, though. What if his suggestion calmed some of her mounting impatience that he wasn't there yet, shagging her senseless? What if it satisfied her enough to keep her from losing her mind as she waited for the day to pass? What if it taught her the tiniest bit about her own body, which might, in turn, help her please him?

Decision made, Hermione locked the door and wandlessly closed the shades, then stripped. She smiled: the Hogwarts house elves had already put linens on the bed. She pulled back the covers and climbed in, letting the cool, soft sheets and the perfect mattress surround her. Bliss. As she closed her eyes, she could still smell sandalwood there among the pillows and blankets, even though the crisp white sheets were clean.

She had never done this in her life.

All right, breathe. And think about what he told you to. Tons of people do this all the time. So it's probably a lot of fun, right?

She snuck her index finger down between her legs and jumped. Bloody hell, too cold! She put her finger in her mouth to warm it and tried again. She couldn't quite convince herself to move it around, so she felt around until she found the most sensitive place…and left it there. Hmm…that's pleasant.

Hermione closed her eyes. She called to mind Severus's urgent kisses; she imagined the weight of him pressing down on her; she pictured him there with her, that he was one the touching her…and she started to explore. Sweet Merlin, that is much better than pleasant. She started to move her finger more urgently…if only he were here gripping her hair…she felt a pulsing, a heat getting stronger…there was no way she was stopping now…gods, she was so wet, was she going to mess the clean sheets? Severus…

And then, much to her surprise, her body was turning inside out; she was collapsing inward and falling into a warm abyss. Suddenly, every muscle in her body went rigid. Oh! She bit her lip to keep herself from crying out.

She smiled as she tried to still her breath, the echoes of her climax resonating throughout her. If that's anything at all like what's going to be like when I'm with him later, it's going to be one hell of a fabulous evening. She glanced at the clock. Her past self was on her way to the cottage with Severus. It was time to leave to go back to Grimmauld Place.

And try to get her head back on straight.

A half an hour later, Hermione stared, dismayed, into the chaos that she called her bedroom. Even if I could find every piece of clothing I owned in this mess, it wouldn't matter. There's nothing here for me to wear tonight.

Natasha Avery had looked gorgeous in her frock several nights ago—even Severus had admitted it. Maybe she wasn't Natasha, but perhaps her worn out trainers and neglected jumper weren't necessarily helping matters. And they certainly wouldn't do for this evening's…festivities.

Hermione needed—okay, wanted—a frock that would rival Natasha's to welcome Severus home. Her birthday was coming up soon, and apparently Hermione had a bit of shopping to do. And Harrods opened at 10.

"This one today, miss?"

"Yes, thank you. This one will do nicely," she responded to the sales clerk as she opened her bag to locate her wallet.

Hermione had spent the better part of an hour trying on dresses. She had finally decided on one that was green, flowy and had a deep V-neck. It showed off her décolletage nicely; she thought Severus would like it—for the sixty seconds she would be wearing it before he ripped it off her. Okay, well, if they behaved themselves, it should last through dinner at least.

"Can you direct me to the lingerie section?" she asked the sales lady, trying her best not to blush.

When she found her way to the intimates, she was overwhelmed. It seemed like hundreds of overpriced bits of lace were hung in every direction. How could she choose? Women are insane. Or maybe it's the men? Merlin, is this scrap of lace even classify as a panty?

What about these red ones? Holy shit, is that the price? What if he rips—or vanishes—them? She shook her head. Get a grip, Hermione. Who gives a fuck what he does to your panties as long as he gets inside them? Okay. Well, maybe not red then…

And she went about searching for something in deep green lace.

Several hours later, Hermione Apparated to the front yard of the cottage, almost too jittery to stand.

What do I do? Do I knock? Just walk in? She decided on a compromise: knocking while opening the front door. "Severus…?" she called into the sitting room.

A slow fire moved in the fireplace, sending a warm light into the corners the small room. White orchids and white candles adorned the tables. She wandered into the adjacent room; the dining room table had been set with a white tablecloth, sterling place settings, and wine glasses. Apparently, he'd been busy preparing for her.

Severus didn't seem to be inside. She walked out the back of the cottage to find him standing near the garden. "Hermione," he said, greeting her with a soft smile. He was wearing slim black dress pants and a white long sleeve shirt. Merlin's bloody balls and all his followers, he looked…delicious. If he didn't shag her tonight, she might have to do something drastic. Like what she did earlier. Gods.

She gulped. "Hello."

"Did you do this?" he said, indicating the garden.

"I did…"

"Thank you."

A CRACK coming from inside the house startled her. He chuckled. "What—" she began.

He approached her and reached for her hand. "Let's go in."

Bolpy and three other house elves were in the kitchen placing various covered dishes and bottles of wine on the counter. "Headmaster," he said, bowing to Severus, "and Headmaster's Special Miss."

"Hello, Bolpy," Hermione said, smiling back at the bent over elf.

"You may leave the wine and the meal in here. I will serve Miss Granger. That will be all." Dismissed, the house elves bowed again and left, one by one, with loud CRACKS.

"That was nice of them."

"There are some elves bound to serve the Headmaster even if he doesn't reside at Hogwarts," he said with another slow smile.

"I see you had them bring several bottles of wine," she commented playfully.

"I wanted to have some, too," he smirked.

She huffed a laugh and took a look at the bottle. "Veuve Clicquot La Grande Dame," she said. "Sounds yummy."

"I thought we might enjoy some champagne to celebrate my release. And perhaps some other things."

"And perhaps some other things," she echoed, the ache for his touch wrapping itself around her belly and spiraling downward. Her new thong would be in a very deplorable state before long. If she didn't throw him on the table and shag him senseless before dinner, she had a lot more self-control then she ever imagined.

"Trying to blend in with the furnishings, Miss Granger?"

Hermione had wandered away from the kitchen at his insistence that she not help. She had been standing near a curtained window in the sitting room looking out into the garden while he put the final touches on their meal. She turned. Severus was approaching her with two glasses of champagne in hand and a grand smirk on his face.

"Perhaps a few Gryffindor red curtains around here might help you see me better, Professor."

"I'm afraid if you believe you will ever see red in this home, you are quite mistaken. Besides," he said, handing her a glass, "I never fail to notice you."

"So you've said," she replied with a smirk of her own.

"So I've said," he echoed, coming ever closer. "Let me also say that you look stunning this evening. Green is definitely your colour."

"Perhaps it is the dress that has charmed you. Not me."

"Perhaps the thing to do is remove your dress. Then we could test your theory. I say you will still be stunning with the dress on my floor." He pulled her into a breathless kiss. "However, I do enjoy seeing you wrapped in green," he murmured as he broke the kiss.

"Perhaps you would also enjoy seeing me wrapped in something else?" she whispered.

"I would…" He bent and kissed her neck. "And I have a suggestion for what that might be."

She closed her eyes. "I'm sure you do."

"However," he said, pulling away, "I suspect we should dine now lest we become more…distracted."

"Always telling me no," she sighed.

"Not always, angel. Not always."

The Hogwarts house elves had outdone themselves. Hermione could not decide whether the dinner or the wine was more delicious. When she had taken the last bite of her crème brulee and a final sip of champagne, she said, "That was perfect."

Severus raised an imperious eyebrow. "Perfect?"

"Yes. Perfect."

"I think you may change your mind."

"Really?" she said, raising her own eyebrow.

"There are much better things on the way." He rose from the table. "Come here." Severus offered her his outstretched hand and she took it. He helped her to standing, then he kissed her tenderly.

"You're trembling," he whispered.

"I am."

"You can change your mind at any moment."

"I know." She smiled softly at him. "I don't want to, though."

He led her to the bedroom by the hand, reaching back to unzip her dress in one languid pull. The flowy green dress pooled at her feet, and Hermione stepped out of it and tossed her heels out of the way.

He stared at her with unreadable eyes. He continued to watch her as he began to unbutton his shirt. "Let me," she whispered, closing the space between them and reaching up to take over. When his buttons were undone, she helped pull his shirt off, leaving his undershirt. He pulled it over his head. Oh…

Before Hermione could wrap her mind around the fact that he was standing in her panties and bra in front of a nearly naked Severus Snape, his lips were on hers, urgent and commanding. As he kissed her, he unbuckled his belt. She fumbled to find the button on his trousers and finally freed it; he stepped out of them and his underwear then pulled her into the bed.

Hermione laid on her back as Severus positioned himself above her, his fathomless eyes locked on hers. He cocked an eyebrow and a mischievous smile spread across his face. Hermione felt her bra unhook underneath her and she raised her own eyebrow at him. She pulled the straps halfway down her arms, leaving the rest to him. He removed her bra, brushing his fingertips against her nipples. "Exquisite," he murmured.

He glanced up at her with a gorgeous smirk and asked in his velvet voice, "So how was your afternoon, angel? Did you use that vivid imagination of yours and find yourself something to do?"

She swallowed. "I did."

"The scent of you is here," he growled, kissing a path down her belly. "Next time, I want to be here. Watching you."

"Oh." She thought she might die. Of embarrassment. Of want. Of desire. Of…all of them at once. At least that would put me out of this sweet agony.

He continued to kiss her, traveling down her body with each ghosted brush of his lips. As he reached her hips, he helped her wiggle out of the tiny bit of lace that had been the only thing left separating her skin from his. When his mouth finally reached the folds between her legs, he dragged his tongue across them, exploring her gently at first. She hitched a breath. His tongue was warm and soft; after a few moments of blissful, tender discovery, it became more urgent, pressing in to match the rhythm of her heartbeat.

He raked his hands down her inner thighs, keeping his tongue at her center. And I thought my brain turned to mush when he kissed me… Although her mind was a mess—a beautiful, godawful mess—she managed not to fidget.

"I'm going to touch you," he said, pulling away slightly.

"Please…" she begged, barely able to speak.

Then, slowly, he pushed his finger inside her warmth. She gasped and arched her back, grabbing the sheets with fists on either side. As he slipped in his second finger, she gasped again. "Fuck," escaped her lips. It was all she could take. She tried to sit up. "I want you. Now."

Severus gifted her a slow smile as he drew away. "I think…let's…" He helped her up to standing, then he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Come here," he whispered, pulling her towards his lap. She climbed on, facing him.

Hermione lowered her body onto his slowly, plummeting into the infinite dark of his eyes.

There was nothing except the sensation of him between her thighs: all else had fallen away. She wanted to fold herself into the feeling, to live within it, forever. This feeling was all she was and all she could ever become; it was as if there would never be more to her than the knowledge of how he felt inside her, this sensation of his skin dragging against hers, tugging at hers. The echo of his breath in her ear and the scent of the man she adored within her made her heart wild with joy.

"Don't. Move," he rasped though gritted teeth. He had closed his eyes momentarily, his hands grasping each of her hips at the bone, pressing hard into her flesh.

Merlin, why on earth would I move? She might choose never to move again. Everything was perfect right where she was, thank-you-very-much.

Severus opened his black eyes once more and she saw such hunger there, it made her own jaw ache with the desire for more. She lifted herself up a fraction, tilting her head back so her breasts were at his mouth. He leapt at one hungrily, his lips and tongue caressing it. After a moment, he drew back.

Calloused fingertips dug into her hips even harder than they had moments before; now those hands were slowly guiding her up and down. His flesh was dragging along hers within her, tearing all higher thought away, pulling it down and dissolving it into the warmth between her legs. Oh, Merlin, this, this was why she should move…she wanted more of him…her body, her mind, collapsed into the need to have him, all of him, now that they were one.

He shuddered as her name tore out his lips, barely discernable. "Shite, Hermione," he said raggedly. "Holy fuck." She felt his fingers release her hips and then they were in her hair, dragging her into a deep kiss.

Hermione laid down on the bed and Severus slipped into the sheets next to her, turning on his side so they were face to face. He simply stared at her.

Minutes passed as they lay together, just looking at each other, letting their breath and hearts still. Suddenly, she became desperate to express all the things she had failed to say in the last seven weeks. "I realized I've never told you…I've never said…" He just looked at her with his infinitely dark eyes, waiting for her to continue. How do people express the kind of love she felt for this man lying next to her? "I'm not sure there are words…" her voice caught and she fought the prick of tears. "I—"

"There may not be the right words, angel. Let me in. Show me."

Hermione stared at him for the briefest of moments and gave a tiny nod. "Legilimens," he whispered, almost too softly for her to hear. Apparently for him, no wand was necessary.

She felt his presence as if he were standing at the threshold of her thoughts, not pressing in, but instead waiting for her to present him with something. But what to give him? Two memories surfaced.

As Hermione opened the door to the room she knew so well, she saw him. She padded over to his bed to brush his dark hair tenderly away from his face. He didn't move. Hermione smiled sadly. Poppy must have snuck him Dreamless Sleep. When she reached for his hand everything seemed so simple, so clear. I love this man. And it doesn't matter if he loves me or not. I could never love anyone else…

Hermione was pressed his arms, her heart beating fast, her stomach flipping as he spoke. "…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…

The realization she loved him, the admission he wanted her…somehow, the two images didn't seem to be enough. But she possessed one more that might convince him of how much he meant to her.

"…no matter what I did, I couldn't protect her..."

His words.

Even though he had failed Lily, Hermione trusted Severus to protect her.

The moment Hermione needed protection…safety…she had found herself in his front yard.

And she instinctively knew what that would mean to the former Death Eater who had failed to save every other woman he had ever loved.

The memory was dangerous to share. Before pushing it to the surface, she would have to hide the ugliness that had happened right before it. As he waited at the threshold, she tried to suppress the shock, fear, and anger that permeated the memory, leaving only the comfort and relief she felt when she had opened her eyes. She gifted him a piece—not enough for him to know what had caused her to run to him—but enough to show him that for her, no place on earth felt safer than his arms.

Somewhere safe. With a fleeting prayer that she would not splinch herself, she opened her eyes to find she had Apparated to the front yard of Severus's cottage…

And then she closed the door to her thoughts.

"When did—" he whispered, his eyes widening a fraction.

"Not now," she whispered. "Just hold me."

Lulled by the champagne and comfort of his bed, Hermione had fallen asleep almost immediately. She awoke in Severus's arms surrounded by the timid sunlight streaming through the curtains, surprised she had slept past dawn. She kept herself still and listened to the steady breathing of the man curled up behind her. Sweet Merlin, please let every morning be like this one. He stirred.

"Hello," she smiled, rolling over to face him.

"Hello."

He pulled her into a tender kiss. "We didn't get through your entire plan for the evening, did we?" she said, reaching up to brush the stubble on his face with her fingertips.

He chuckled. "No, we didn't."

"Would you like to?" Last night had made her bold. And his touch had made her hungry.

Instead of answering, he kissed her. Deeply. So he's hungry, too. Severus rose from the bed and took her by the hand, pulling her up to standing. He bent slightly to kiss her deeply, his hand grabbing a handful of hair at the nape of her neck. As he broke the kiss, he swung her around to bite the side of her neck. Hermione could feel his need of her against the small of her back. "You are mine," he said in a voice that felt like silk in her ear, his matter-of-fact, commanding tone daring her to argue.

Severus swept her hair aside and bit her neck again, sending shivers down her body. Instinctively, she bent over and climbed on the bed to kneel in front of him. He growled. Still standing behind her, he dove into her, and a mangled gasp of pain and surprise escaped her lips.

The sound of her shock caused him to freeze. "Angel, did I hurt you?"

She nodded through gritted teeth. "More…." she panted. It was all she could manage.

Severus bent down low over her so his chest touched her back; one hand gripped her shoulder, dragging her body towards him, his other hand latched onto a fistful of her hair. She pulled her head away, pretending to fight against his claim on her body. At this, he seemed to lose control, and growling, he grasped her hair more tightly, staying just shy of overpowering her. He began to thrust, hard, embedding himself so deeply, she bit her lip so she wouldn't cry out. "Hermione, I—" His velvety voice, now ragged with desire, halted in a deep, low groan; she moaned his name as she welcomed both their climaxes inside her.

They collapsed next to each other on the bed. "Severus," she murmured, pushing a curl out of her eyes while fighting to regain her breath. "That was fantastic. Promise we'll do that again sometime."

"How about now?" he countered, a salacious gleam in his eyes, his breath already still. She looked in his dark eyes and gave herself over once again to the man who said he would always be hers.

An Hour Later

"How about a bath, angel?"

Hermione was laying on Severus's chest in bed, eyes closed, listening to his heart beat beneath her. Although she didn't want to move, a bath was just what she needed. "That sounds perfect," she said, smiling softly up at him.

Severus flicked his wand in the direction of the bathroom and the tub started to fill. "Aren't you tired?" she asked as he led her by the hand out of the bedroom.

He chuckled as he tenderly as he brought the palm of her hand to his lips and kissed it. "A bit. There's plenty of day left for sleep, however. Poppy kept me far longer in the infirmary than I needed to be."

"I think she just wanted to keep you there as long as possible," she teased.

"Perhaps. But you have me now. All of me." He stepped into the water, guiding her in after him and she settled herself on his lap. Now there was nothing but his kiss and the feel of the soapy water.

"You may be able to change my opinion about mornings," he murmured.

"That is the highest compliment you've ever given me, Severus."

And then, after a delicious hour, when they were finally both clean and warm, he carried her back to bed, wrapped his arms around her, and she fell blissfully asleep.

"Angel, it's time to wake up."

"Hmmm…" Hermione's eyes struggled to obey.

"Your past self will be here in an hour. So you must go. For now."

"For now," she repeated sleepily as she wiggled out of his arms. "I will miss you," she said as she gifted him a quick kiss. Pulling on his long sleeve shirt that had been on the floor, she headed to the bathroom, abandoning him in bed. Leaving him felt like she had splinched herself in half.

A few moments later, Severus appeared in the doorway. Apparently, he had felt her loss, too. "I will miss you, yet I will see you," he said.

"Just another two days. Then you'll only have me," she said, not turning from the sink.

"Hermione…" She glanced over at him and saw that he was staring at her, uncertainty in his dark eyes. "I need to ask you something."

"Anything, Severus."

"The day after tomorrow you will have caught up to yourself in time. Yet your past self doesn't have this…" He approached her and reached up to run the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, the tip of his finger tender against the skin of her scar. "The memory—"

She looked down to avoid his eyes. "It happens tomorrow."

"What happens?" he asked evenly, pulling his hand back.

She hesitated. "I shouldn't tell you," she whispered. When he didn't comment, she said, "And you don't really want to know."

"That confirms my suspicions."

"You can't interfere. It's already happened." Tears welled up in her eyes. "Besides," she added huffing a laugh despite her sadness, "you might kill him, and that would completely fuck up the timeline."

"But think how much better the timeline would be without him in it."

"Severus…"

"How do you expect me to sit idle and do nothing while knowing you are in harm's way?" he asked her sharply.

"Because you must. Just be here at the cottage when I need you. When I come to you." She walked past him to find her bag. "And give me this," she said, handing him a scrap of parchment, "and allow me to see you take it from Watch Over Me. Tell me to reread it after Ginny leaves my room."

He looked down at the ink. "Listen to me," she said, and he glanced up to meet her eye. "I have to go through this. It wasn't pleasant but…" she swallowed, "it was necessary."

"Are you certain?" he asked her softly.

"I'm sure. Otherwise I wouldn't be here with you right now."