Hermione Granger was a qualified Potions Mistress.
She walked briskly, her travelling cloak flowing loosely over her muggle jeans and T-shirt. Two bottles of pilfered wine from Grimmauld Place in hand.
Hogwarts welcomed her warmly, the long-since repaired foundations humming under her quickened steps. She had to reach her destination before her bravery wavered.
It was foolish to think that her mentor would greet her kindly, in fact, he would likely throw her out on her arse and leave her ego bruised. But, she didn't want to celebrate this momentous occasion with anyone else.
She could never accuse Snape of being kind throughout their time together, certainly not. It couldn't even be said that he was anything but his usual snarky self, but over the last two years Hermione found herself warming to his ways.
She shook her head and focused on the movement of her feet along the dark flagstone path.
The dungeon hallways once so cold and unwelcoming seemed almost homely now. Hermione had spent the best part of two years here and they felt infinitely more comfortable than Sirius's house.
Merlin, Snape would think her mad.
Her heart thumped hard against her chest as his office door came into view.
The worst he can do is send you away. She told herself as she lifted a trembling hand to knock on the solid, dark wooden door.
Silence greeted her for a few moments and she deflated, her shoulders sagging.
Hermione shook her head disparagingly at herself.
She didn't fancy him.
No matter how much Harry might accuse her of such. He was just interesting, a fascinating conversationalist, incredibly intelligent and completely captivating.
But she did not fancy him.
"Enter," his voice finally came from beyond the door.
Hermione took a couple of steadying breaths before turning the doorknob and slipping into the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Snape stood by his desk, sans robes and Hermione did a double take at the sight of his white shirt sleeves rolled back revealing pale forearms with a scattering of dark hair.
"Hello sir," she said softly.
"Granger," he said without looking up from his task. He was measuring out ingredients and placing them into labelled jars. "I told you already, the paperwork was sent away this morning. Even you cannot expect a turnaround this quickly. It is the Ministry after all," he sneered.
Hermione let out a soft breathy laugh.
"That's not—' she started, "I thought, perhaps that, um.."
He looked up then, piercing her with his dark stare. Causing her feet to lock firmly in their place, just inside of the door.
Hermione willed herself to open her mouth and speak— she was good at that at least, adept even.
Instead, she raised the bottles of red wine and shook them lamely, a timid smile touching her lips.
"Gifts are not necessary," said Snape in a bored tone, eyes shifting back to his work.
Several small steps in quick succession brought a still trembling Hermione to stand before his desk.
"I wanted to celebrate," she said quietly, "with you."
Snape scoffed, still not looking at her.
"Granger," he said impatiently. "Tell me how to make you leave."
"Drink with me," Hermione said, sounding braver than she felt. "Then I will leave you in peace."
Silence stretched on as he continued to attend to his task, one that might have been hers up until that very morning.
If she was completely honest with herself, Hermione wasn't quite ready to part ways with her dour professor just yet.
"I nicked it from Sirius," she said, indicating the wine. "It's likely very expensive and probably good too."
Hermione could have sworn she saw the slightest twitch pull at the corner of his mouth. Then he sighed heavily and placed both palms on his desk.
"If I toast to your accomplishment," he said, jaw clenched tightly, "you will leave?"
"I swear," she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet slightly.
"Fine," he grumbled.
With a flick of his wand Snape sent two wine glasses soaring through the air until they settled on his coffee table before the roaring fire.
"Sit," snapped Snape. "I need to finish up."
Hermione skirted her away around the couch and settled into one corner. She uncorked the wine and poured two very generous measures into his ornate, crystal glasses.
She looked around the room— his room.
His current office was smaller than his previous one, the adjacent lab was snug too— meaning their work space had been very limited.
She had spent two years brushing forearms and nudging shoulders with Snape. Her bottom lip was constantly red raw and swollen from pressing it between her teeth at each unbidden contact.
Hermione sank into the forest green couch clutching her drink, taking in the dim lighting and mingled aromas of his ingredients.
Taking a sip, she had to admit the wine was very good, even if she preferred white.
She did not acknowledge that she had chosen red because she knew Snape favoured it.
"Alright," he said, approaching the couch and taking a seat at the other end. As far away as possible, he was perched stiffly, clearly uncomfortable, "to your Mastery," he said, raising his glass in a cheering motion.
"To your excellent tutelage and patience," she countered.
Snape scoffed into his glass before taking a sip. He raised both brows and then looked approvingly at the crimson liquid.
Silence filled the space between them, hanging awkwardly and bubbling. She searched her brain for a single sentence that might not attract his ire.
"Why not celebrate with your friends," he spat the word with such distaste that Hermione shuffled slightly in discomfort.
"Well," she began, "I'm none too keen on Sirius's manner and truth be told, I'm also not fond of the effect his presence has on Harry," she stated matter-of-a-factly.
She didn't want to be too candid about her distaste for Harry's godfather. If she said too much it might be difficult to face him again with a friendly attitude. So instead she would keep it under wraps and roll her eyes subtly whenever Sirius ran his eyes over her.
The tension in Grimmauld Place was palpable most days, even if Harry was completely oblivious to it all. Hermione was hard pressed to make a fuss since she had nowhere else to go.
With her parents lost somewhere in Australia and her less than impressive nest egg of gold, she was truly lucky to have a roof over her head.
Hermione looked across to Snape, he had a smug look plastered across his face as he sipped his wine silently.
"There's no need to gloat," she muttered into her glass, dropping her eyes.
Snape chuckled then, deep and dark, it was sinful and soothing at the same time and Hermione wanted more.
"Gloat? Over what?" he said in false innocence.
She crossed her legs, angling her body in his direction and pursed her lips in a knowing smile.
"Over your correct prediction of my living situation," she told him.
Although Hermione rarely complained, Snape took great pleasure in her rare outbursts about Sirius, Harry, or both housemates.
It was truly the only time she ever felt like he was mildly interested in her personal life.
"Well," he started, "I did warn you about laying with mutts."
"Oh," Hermione said, heat rising in her face again. "It's not like that, not at all. Never."
"What you do in your personal life, Granger, is of no consequence to me," Snape said sharply.
"Well," she responded curtly. "I would like it to be known that Sirius Black is not welcome in or near my bed, thank you."
There was that sound again. That delightful little laugh that seemed to vibrate through the shared couch and lodge somewhere below her breastbone. Heat was spreading through her, from his laugh, the fire burning in the grate or the wine, who knew?
"No consequence," he repeated.
Hermione sighed softly and continued to sip her wine slowly, afraid to drink it too fast in fear that he might kick her out. Then where would she be? Locked away in her small bedroom avoiding Sirius like a 'Venomous Tentacula'.
"I'll miss it here," she said forlornly. "Hogwarts I mean," she added quickly.
Snape simply hummed plainly, his face emotionless as he looked at her wine glass, likely wondering how quickly she would leave.
Hermione did not do well in awkward silences, it caused her to ramble mindlessly.
"Anywhere is better than Grimmauld Place," Hermione said darkly. "I've enjoyed this opportunity and I'm very grateful—'
"Granger," Snape said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he often did when annoyed. "That's quite enough."
"Oh," she said weakly. "I just—"
"Yes, yes," he said tiredly. "Your gratitude is noted."
Hermione wilted slightly at his exasperation. She dropped her eyes to study the glass held firmly in her hand.
"You were not as tiresome as I had anticipated," he said in a wary voice.
Her head snapped around, an excited smile spreading across her face.
"Is that a compliment sir?" she asked humorously.
"No," Snape replied pointedly.
She blushed again and in her flustered state managed to slosh some of her wine onto the couch.
"Shit," she squeaked, as quickly as she could she placed her glass on the coffee table and pulled her wand from her pocket.
"'Tergeo'," she whispered with a flick of her wand and watched as the wine stain disappeared.
Without thinking she reached for the bottle and refilled her glass.
"What do you think you are doing Granger?" Snape asked her darkly.
Hermione knew she was testing his already wafer thin patience but couldn't bring herself to leave, not yet.
"Please sir," she said pleadingly. "Don't make me leave yet. I want to celebrate this with you ."
"It's quite telling," he said.
When he didn't follow up his statement Hermione frowned, curiosity bubbling.
"What is sir?"
He took his wine glass from the table and studied it for a moment, he raised it to his lips and took a long draw before placing it back down and turning to watch her closely, a smug smile ghosting over his thin lips.
"That you would rather spend your evening with an angry ex-professor than your friends."
Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Was he implying what she thought? Did Snape think that she fancied him too? Shifting awkwardly she took a large swig of her drink, gulped it down greedily.
"Black and Potter are really that difficult to live with?" he probed.
Hermione sighed with relief, some of the tightly wound tension leaving her.
"It's been difficult," she sighed heavily. "I love Harry like a brother, but with Sirius around, he's…"
"Arrogant." Snape answered for her.
"I was going to say 'different', but yes," she replied sadly. "When he's not there it's just like old times. He's difficult to live with,— Sirius that is."
"Well, I suppose you can move on soon."
"I have no savings," she admitted. "Any money awarded to me after the war was immediately handed over to Gringotts to pay back the damage we caused. So unfortunately, until I establish myself in my career, I'm kind of stuck."
Snape didn't respond, just considered her over the rim of his glass.
"I've considered Occlumency," she said conversationally. "At the very least it could make my stay there more bearable."
His eyes narrowed slightly as his penetrating stare held her captive.
"A useful tool for dealing with unwanted guests," he said snidely.
"Do you use it regularly?" she asked, genuinely interested even if he was indirectly insulting her. "How does it feel?"
Snape sighed, adjusting his body and facing her almost fully.
"Occlumency has many benefits," he started, his tone reminiscent of her lessons with him. "The obvious being to deflect unwanted probing into one's mind. That sensation is intense and difficult to uphold. But it has other uses, such as detaching one's emotional reactions to certain situations. This is easier to achieve."
Raising her glass to her mouth again Hermione realised it was empty and refilled both again. Watching Snape intently, riveted by his words.
"Have you experienced Legilimency before?" he asked her as she topped up his glass. "Have you had your mind penetrated?"
Hermione fought a blush.
"Not that I'm aware of," she replied softly. "Would I know if I had?"
"Only exceptionally skilled Legilimens can invade one's mind without a trace," said Snape.
"Like you?" she asked boldly.
"Yes," he smirked. "Like me."
Her next question burned on the tip of her tongue but she didn't dare ask; had he probed into her mind?
"How does it feel when an inexperienced person attempts it?" she asked, shifting slightly so their knees were almost touching.
"Like a throbbing migraine," he replied. "Thick and heavy inside your mind. Whereas a skilful Legilimens can slip snugly in and wander freely without your ever having been aware."
"Can you show me?" she asked without thinking.
"I can," he said, taking another sip. "But I won't."
"You're no fun," she said, her lips pursed into a teasing smile.
"And yet my reputation for fun is renowned," said Snape, reaching out for the bottle to top up his own glass and reluctantly pouring the remainder into hers.
"There is no need for me to practise Legilimency on you Granger," he said. "You read like a book."
Hermione snapped her head to look at him, an incredulous look on her face, eyes wide.
"Even now," Snape said lazily, "your almost outrage is being overshadowed by your endless curiosity."
She giggled slightly into her wine, he might not consider himself fun but she was certainly enjoying her evening.
"All seeing, all knowing Severus Snape," she said, a little taken aback by her own bravery in using his given name.
Snape raised a brow but otherwise let it slide and Hermione wondered if she could get away with more than one use of his name this evening.
"Gryffindors," he scoffed, "you're all the same, no subtlety."
"Ah but our bravery knows no bounds right?" Hermione said, bobbing her foot slightly to brush against his shin.
"Foolishness is more apt I think."
She wilted slightly at his acidic tone, but she knew better than to take his harsh words to heart. The man rarely spoke a kind word about anyone, Hermione it seemed was now quite low on his list of favourite targets.
"So no to Occlumency then?" she asked, looking into her glass instead of at him.
He scoffed loudly and rolled his eyes, draining his glass before reaching for the second bottle.
"Surely two years have been trying enough under my tutelage," he said.
Hermione shrugged and hummed noncommittally, allowing her glass to be topped up again. She really should stop— this wine was making her far too brazen.
"I could go for more."
"I hadn't taken you for a masochist Granger," Snape said dryly.
She choked on her mouthful of wine, coughing slightly she leaned forward and placed her glass on the coffee table and attempted to catch her breath. Snape was watching her, eye's glinting with amusement.
"You leave quite enough animal dander on my belongings without coughing up a hairball," he said, clearly amused with himself.
Hermione looked at her jeans. There was a fair amount of ginger fur clinging to the fibers.
"I really want you to teach me," she pleaded, she couldn't stop herself. Anything to keep seeing him.
"And yet," he started, "you cannot compensate me for my precious time."
"I can think of a way."
Hermione slapped her hand over her mouth— too much wine. Her words hung in tense silence between them, Snape did not react.
"Ah but the mutt would miss out on sniffing around you," he teased.
"Ugh, he's— he's so conceited," Hermione replied, exasperated. "It's like he thinks every witch is just looking for the opportunity to fall into bed with him."
"I'm sure he will wear you down eventually," Snape muttered unkindly into his glass.
Hermione pursed her lips, weighing her options.
She was mildly impressed at her capacity to even consider the words forming on her tongue, yet she seemed powerless to stop them tumbling from her mouth.
"I don't want to fall into his bed," she said, unsuccessfully trying to fight off the heat rising to her face.
Snape's dark eyes were fixed on her. Studying her with such evident intensity that she could not contain her fidgeting movements.
It was difficult to sit still when he was so very close. A tiny shunt to her right would see her almost flush against him, a slight tilt of her head might see her lips pressed against his cheek.
Who had moved closer? She was sure they had started this evening at opposite ends of the couch, although it was very snug to begin with.
Knowing it was foolish, pointless and potentially dangerous, Hermione in an attempt to look casual— like a witch seeking a more comfortable position, swung her legs up on the couch behind her.
Snape did nothing to stop her. He did not dissuade her, did not flinch away, just continued to pin her mercilessly with his icy black stare.
The limited space between them was thick and heavy with a mounting tension. It could not be possible that he was unaware of it. The heady scent of their shared breaths with lingering wine was too intoxicating.
She pressed her lips to his before she could overthink it. Hermione hummed contentedly at the contact, which seemed to magnify the tension, yet sate it at the same time.
When he still hadn't reacted after a moment or two, Hermione flicked her eyes back open, mouth still firmly set against his.
He was staring at her, brow knitted together.
Shit.
Hermione pulled away quickly, licking her lips as she did. Snape said nothing, only quickly snapped his eyes from hers to her mouth and back again. Her heart was pounding wildly again, ready to break through her heaving chest.
When Hermione opened her mouth to say something— apologise, beg for forgiveness, Snape stopped her. Pressing one long finger to her lips before trailing that same hand along her cheek.
Those skilled fingers tangled into her hair, tugging slightly and caused her to gasp. Snape's thin lips were on hers, not calm and quiet this time, but harsh and bruising.
His tongue slid impatiently past her parted lips and into her mouth, eagerly seeking hers in a heated caress as his fingers continued the sting on her scalp.
She reached out and ran her fingers up his solid chest until she reached the puckered skin of his scarred neck. The contact elicited a small hiss from him, echoing into her mouth. Then his hand slipped from its grasp on her curls and onto her hip, fingers digging into her soft flesh as he pushed her T-shirt up slightly.
Hermione had no control over the wanton moans escaping her lips as his hand wandered again, slipping under the waistband of her jeans and into her knickers.
Snape moaned back at her, before releasing her tongue and sitting back slightly to look into her face.
He said nothing, just watched her closely for signs of pleasure. The angle was awkward with her body tilted towards him.
"Lay back," he muttered in a gravely, unrestrained voice, "against my chest."
Hermione twisted her body, still while Snape's hand sat idly against her sex. She leaned back gently until she felt his chest against her back and opened the top button on her jeans to aid him.
His mouth was flush with her ear as he whispered softly to her.
"Very good, now, don't be shy. I want to hear you."
She gasped as he dragged one long finger between her folds until it found her little bundle of pleasure. He circled slowly, finding a rhythm quickly that caused Hermione to squirm. His breaths were coming short and ragged against the shell of her ear and sending shivers down her spine.
"Please sir?" she begged, forgetting herself with the temptation of pleasure building steadily beneath the surface.
"Severus," he panted into her ear, guiding her to use his given name.
"Severus,' she repeated. "Severus."
Hermione groaned in agonised pleasure at the sensation of Snape— Severus's fingers slick with her arousal and gently caressing her with a lover's motion.
His other hand came to wrap around her, trailing over the tense muscles of her abdomen and blazing a path up until he came to a halt, cupping her breast firmly through her bra.
Hot breath hitched against her ear, tickling her and pulling her pleasure higher. With impatient hands Hermione pushed her jeans down her thighs to her knees giving his wandering hand better access.
She could feel his arousal growing and pressing into the small of her back and moaned loudly, squirming slightly in an attempt to create some friction for him.
"Come for me first," he whispered to her, and with that his hand slipped under the silken material of her bra and rolled her taut nipple between two adept fingers.
Her moans were loud and crude as Hermione tipped her head back onto his shoulder.
"Severus," she whispered again in a shuddering breath, "I'm going to—"
Her pleasure cut her off as her body clenched tightly under his attention, fingernails digging into his thigh as she rode her orgasm into blissful ecstasy.
Severus hummed contently into her ear, the smell of wine washing over her senses with his hot breath on her skin.
"Lovely," he said, "your sounds, lovely."
Hermione, panting hard, struggled to find the words she needed, words of praise and pleasure had vanished.
"And so wet," Snape said in a more feral tone.
"Yes," she finally managed, it wasn't much but she was pleased to find her voice as her body started its inevitable rise for pleasure again. "Severus, I want you."
"You have me," he said and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.
She sat up faster than intended and eagerly removed her jeans the rest of the way kicking her shoes off, she lifted her T-shirt quickly over her head as Severus unfastened her bra. Hermione turned in his arm until they were face to face again and kissed him longingly while she fumbled with his shirt buttons, tearing them open quickly.
Her flesh ignited when finally their bare skin was pressed together tightly. She pushed his shirt down his arms and with her undisguised need quickly unbuttoned his trousers before tugging them roughly down his hips, which he lifted in aid.
Hermione slipped down his body until she kneeled between his bare thighs, running her fingers up his pale skin until she curled her hand around the base of his rigid length. With a quick glance to Snape she sought approval.
When his legs widened slightly Hermione slipped further between them and lowered her mouth to him, kissing gently first and sliding the underside of her tongue down his length.
The musky scent of his manhood mingled with her own cherry soaked breath was further intoxicating to her already swirling mind.
Snape slipped a hand into her curls as Hermione bobbed up and down, drinking in the subtle moans and grunts as his fingers twisted tightly against her scalp.
The biting sting as he guided her movements caused her to groan wantonly around him and Severus snapped his hips slightly at the sensation before pulling her off him completely.
"Come up here." His voice was low and gravelly, infused with lust as he patted the cushion next to him.
Hermione stood up, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and sat where he had indicated.
Snape grasped her hips and urged her to lie back.
He opened her thighs wide, kneeling between them and lined himself up at her dripping entrance before pushing forward and filling her delightfully.
"Severus," Hermione moaned, reaching up and running her fingers along his tightly set jaw. "Kiss me."
His mouth met hers urgently and suppressed her cries of pleasure into muffled moans echoing between them.
Wrapping her legs snugly around his slim waist Hermione met each thrust with a roll of her hips.
With each thrust Severus jerked harder, driving Hermione further up the seat until her curls rested against the arm rest. She slipped her hand between their bodies and circled her clit, ready to fall apart again.
Toes curled in anticipation of ecstasy and her free hand gripping his shoulder ferociously she was unable to hold back her loud moans as her tongue stilled against his.
"Yes," Snape said, breaking their kiss. "Good girl, you're almost there aren't you?"
He was watching her hungrily, eyes darting from hers to her open mouth.
"Yes!" Hermione cried out, her eyes closed tightly as she could feel her walls begin to clench again in pleasure.
"Hermione," he gasped in a pleasured cry, thrusting erratically as she pulsed and came around him.
Her second orgasm took her breath away, she wasn't sure if her blurred vision was from the pleasure of finally fucking Snape or the wine they had indulged in to get to this point, but she didn't care.
Snape slumped over and wrapped his arms around her, his ragged breath hot against her sweat sheened skin.
They lay there together in a tangle of limbs until Severus slipped from her and looked into her face with a look that could almost pass for happiness.
"Congratulations to me," she muttered to nobody in particular.
Her former mentor chuckled and sat back giving her room to sit up, he cleansed them both, causing a pleasant tingling sensation on her overheated skin.
They dressed hurriedly, neither one looking to the other as they did. In the time it took for both to redress, something seemed to shift, the charged air becoming cold and unyielding.
Her eyes shifted to Snape who's grin had faded into his usual unreadable mask. Panic flared in Hermione as she watched his head dip slightly.
"That was inappropriate," Snape said, looking away from her. "My apologies."
"No no no," she said hurriedly, reaching out a trembling hand. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."
"As I said Granger, you are quite easy to read." He stood up, turned away and walked to the fireplace. "Whether or not you were a willing participant is irrelevant. I am your mentor, your teacher."
Hermione followed and took his hand in hers, looking up into his sorrowful face.
"Not anymore, as of this morning you are no longer—"
"Granger," he warned.
"Hermione," she reminded him snappily. "You would do well to remember that I am an adult Severus , I am capable of making these decisions."
With pointed deliberation she entwined their fingers and tugged on his hand encouraging him closer.
"And I have decided that I would very much like a repeat performance."
"You're drunk," he said plainly.
"You're drunk," Hermione said teasingly. "But if it makes you feel better, we can take something to sober up and I can show you again how very eager I am"
Snape chuckled softly again and gave her an almost smile.
"What now?" he asked.
Hermione looked around the tiny space. She could ask him to stay, tangled up in his sheets for the night. It was a tempting thought. But she had a better plan. She smiled wickedly at him.
His mouth twitched slightly and Hermione watched as an unfamiliar mischievous glint shimmered in his eyes.
"'Mione? That you?" Harry called up from the basement kitchen.
"Yes Harry," she called out.
"Come down here."
She hung her travelling cloak on the hook just inside the doorway and made her way along the narrow hall.
Upon opening the door into the kitchen she could see both Harry and Sirius standing at the long table which was laden with food and wine.
A banner hung behind them emblazoned with the words;
Congratulations Hermione!
Under which in smaller writing the words 'No More Snape.' glittered in gold.
She frowned at the sign and clucked her tongue impatiently.
"What's all this?" Hermione asked.
"We wanted to celebrate with you love," Sirius said, raising a glass and gracing her with a winning smile.
"Where were you?" Harry asked curiously. "We've been waiting for hours—" His words were cut off at the sight of Snape's looming presence behind her.
"Snape," Sirius spat unkindly. "What are you doing here?"
Harry looked uncomfortably to the sign behind him and seemed to fumble in his pockets for his wand.
"Potter," Snape said smoothly, "Black."
Hermione shuffled uncomfortably.
"Severus and I—"
"Severus?" Sirius snarled, his eyes narrowed into slits.
"Hermione," Snape said her name in a caress that sent a shiver running down her spine, "wanted to celebrate her accomplishment with me. We've already honoured the occasion once this evening."
Hermione could hear the smirk in his tone and could feel heat in her face.
"Hermione?" Harry questioned, looking at her with wide disbelieving eyes.
"Thank you both for the spread," she said quietly before turning to look at Snape with a smile. "Severus and I will join you shortly."
She turned on the steps and drew his hand into hers.
"You can rework that sign while we celebrate upstairs," she said without looking back over her shoulder.
"What the fuck?" She heard Sirius say as she let the door swing behind them and led Severus to the foot of the stairs which led to her bedroom.
On the first step she turned, now at eye level with the dark man. Their noses bumped as she pressed her forehead against his. The lingering scent of 'Sober Up' potion hung between them.
"Severus," she whispered.
"Yes Hermione?"
"Take me upstairs and teach me how to clear my mind?"
"With pleasure," he replied with a smirk before pressing his lips gently against hers.
Maybe she did fancy him.