Chapter 49: The Epitimy Of Desire

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The Grounds, Hogwarts Castle, Wizarding World...

Smoldering eyes of obsidian had been fixated upon the young witch, Hermione Granger as she made her way through the darkened corridor. There had not been a student in sight as they all had either scurried off toward the great hall and their respective common rooms. Swift steps and a steady stride saw to Severus Snape catching up to the hurrying young lass as she rounded the nearby corner. Try as he might, the anticipation of being around her had driven his thoughts all day since their parting the previous night. The more he sought to distance himself from her in a bid to get some measure of control of himself back the more intense his need for her became and it was simply unavoidable. Hermione nearly leapt out of her robes as she found herself being pulled into a nearby aclove and that hands of the rather swift moving Potions Professor had been on her body. She knew the moment she felt him press her into the cold stone wall that he'd been just as eager for her affections as she had been for his. The last few moments they shared together had been all too few and the risk of being caught together in the light of day was far too great to ignore.

"Severus..." whimpered Hermione feeling his lean ebony clad form press against her own school robed body.

"What is it about you that captivates me so?" asked Snape in something of a breathless tone.

The young witch had not known the answer to that, but she had been just as captivated by him as he'd been by her.

Quick feverish pecks against the soft flesh of her exposed neckline had been all his doing as he sought to sate his need of her in the most intimate of ways.

Hermione had known from the emboldened wizard's own words that he'd been lacking in affection since he'd been a child and even more so in terms of physical need since his celebate lifestyle had come into play. The nights he spent alone a brooding in darkness seemingly had a profound effect on him despite his iron will and he had no choice but to crumble to the force of his need once the floodgates had been let open via the arranged marriage to his young bride.

He resented the fact that he'd been no better behaved than a random six year boy in the wake of pursuing what his body desired and even less inclined to navagate the strange emotional field of which he had no prior experiance. Looking back, perhaps it was indeed a good thing that his chosen mate had been youthful in her own right as she would have less of an inclination to shun or ridicule him for his lack of ablity to control himself or the situation.

True to the identity of a young man in love, Severus Snape was becoming both reckless and bold in his approach to have even a few moments with his young wife if only to see him through the darkest parts of his day. The ever growing and steady ache within him had been so severe that he himself had not been aware of how much it had harmed him.

"Hermione." he whispered feeling the warmth of her body against his despite the nip in the air that surrounded them.

Never in his life had he ever felt nor had he ever longed for anything so much as to spend even a fraction of a second in this young witch's presence. Not even his pursuit of Lily Evans had been so obsessive as to occupy every aspect of his waking and slumbering hours as much as this young student had. Perhaps it was the stresses of the upcoming war, or the fact that he'd been carted off to Azkaban for a brief period of time that altered his perspective, either way, he would not easily give her up no matter whom made the demand.

"I've missed you." admitted Hermione enjoying the few moments she had with her husband.

"I've...missed you as well." admitted Snape.

Hermione had been delighted to here it as she turned to face him letting her back press against the cold stone in secret.

"It's been difficult to get a moment alone." she said reaching up and stroking his sallow pale cheek with one sure hand.

"Potter and Weasley seem to be growing quite obsessive." said Snape in a rather embittered tone.

"Look who's talking." replied Hermione in jest.

"My...compulsion is not at all something I wholeheartedly agreed to." replied Snape in his own defense. "It is a shameful need that I know not how to supress."

"There's nothing shameful about being in love." replied Hermione meeting his gaze.

"What you deem as "love" is not the shameful aspect of my desire for you." admitted Snape. "Everytime I see you my mind wonders into a realm of sexual depravity that would make a hormonal teen's fantasies pale in comparrison for lack of imagination."

Hermione's cheeks turned red at the implication in her husband's tone. In terms of her own desires, she herself had never experianced such need let alone the emotional aspects of her attachment to anyone other than the man before her.

As far as she'd been concerned, Severus Snape was more than adequate in terms of what she sought on a sexual level and exceeding every aspect of her imagination in terms of love.

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Snape's Quarters, Slytherin Dungeons, Hogwarts Castle, Wizarding World...

Hermione let out a gasp as Severus Snape scooped her into his waiting arms and whisked her down to the dungeons in a whirlwind of heated kisses and intense need. She had barely noticed the change in scenery as they barrled through his door and began subtracting various articles of clothing from their lust heated bodies. The desperate need to feel each other more pressing than the last time given the forced seperation due to the infernal meddling of many a Gryffindor and death eater alike. Life had no true meaning for Severus Snape before the strange days he'd been forced to wed his young student and only she had been his cause for weathering the storm of his emotions and anguished punishments alike in a bid to have her in his arms again.

Each day a new means of desire for her and the bleakness of his time as servant for two unruly masters had begun to fade away.

Soft delicate hands moved alone the often cool to the touch pale flesh of his scar riddled chest. He had smirked at the memory of her adding quite a few new scars to his vast collection in the wake of their previous passionate echanges.

Hermione had been caught off guard once more as she clung to her rather skilled lover relishing in the command he had over her inexperianced body as he proceeded to instruct her further in the art of love making. The familiar crisp white sheets surrounded them as he gently eased her into the center of his large black four poster bed. A low hiss escaped him as the pulsing of his need began to take hold and he found himself more than eager to share the experiance with his wife.

His reluctance to accept his feelings for her as a whole only contributed to his means of exhibiting his passions in a manner that only she would recognize.

Another sharp gasp and the familiar intrusion from so many nights prior had brought a state of desire out in the young witch that even she had barely any concious thought of. The rather arrogant smirk on the part of her husband as he towered above her had been quite the sight as he continued their joining locking his rough callous fingers into her soft delicate ones signaling a union unlike any they could have ever imagined.

Heated kisses and whimpered exchanges echoed into the darkened room as the hard oak head board beat against the stone wall signaling to all within earshot that the intesity of the couple's shared passion had indeed been at play.

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Time seemed to stand still as the whimpers and moans grew more frequent and the inevitable rush of release siezed the both of them blocking out all else from their collective senses and furthering the bond that had been so desperately formed between them. Hermione began to pant as sweat and heat passed between them giving way to the other worldly experiance they had acheived in the wake of their frantic coupling. She thought briefly to a time when the war would reach it's climax and the implication that it would have for them both and a small meansure of tears streamed down her young supple cheeks as the realization that she had something to lose dawned upon her. Snape for his part had remained silent as his body grew limp and he found himself rolling onto his side of the bed. His raven locks curtianed at the sides of his cheeks sticking via the moisture as his lean pale chest rose and fell via his deep breathing in the wake of the activity. The scent of jasmine had seemed to forever assault his sense of smell as he found his mind clouded with a sense of nothingness aside from the relief of having finally taken his young wife to bed after weeks of denial. Denial of his own needs as well as her quite busy schedule.

Snape continued to look up at the ceiling possibly much too afraid internally to look upon his wife and the creeping knowledge that he too had something to lose should the war progress far beyond what any of them had intended.

Without a word, Hermione quickly rolled toward him, gripping his hand as if it had been for dear life, unable to fathom another day without him as he had been unable to fathom one without her.