He watched her, licking her lips…sucking the sticky sweetness from her fingers. His cock twitched. Severus had been spending more time at Grimmauld Place in the wake of the war. He'd also spent a lot more time in the company of Gryffindor's own Hermione Granger. The year on the run had emaciated her body but…her mind. She had sharpness to her that she hadn't possessed before. She had learned that books and application were not the same thing. She started questioning texts instead of reciting them.
Severus still took every opportunity he could to rile her up though. That darker side of him wanted to see her flushed in the face of debate. He wanted the defiance that flared in her cheeks when he pushed her. But what he really wanted…was to possess it. To hold her defiance in his grasp and watch it crumble as she fell apart.
"Miss Granger," his voice silk as he said her name, "If you insist on this line of questioning, -I- must insist that we finish this debate later."
He watched her eyes as they scanned him for any indicators of intention. Severus kept his expression blank, pushing his chair back and standing to leave. She was looking down at the sugar quill she'd been teasing him with in confusion. She'd conjured up a taste for sweets since she'd settled in at the Black family home.
"Afraid you'll lose?" she asked, raising a single eyebrow.
"Contrary to what you may believe, my schedule does not revolve around you or your friends. I have a meeting but if you'd like to finish the debate, you shall find me at Hogwarts," he said, using every syllable as an excuse to watch her expressions shift, "Unless you'd like to admit defeat now."
Her indignance raged behind her amber hues, "Over my dead body."
"I'll await your floo, then," he said with a smirk, turning to leave.
A soft knock on his door told him that his boldness had paid off. She'd come all the way here just for the yearning satisfaction of winning a debate against him. He couldn't help being smug and she couldn't leave a debate undone, it might physically harm her to do so.
However, when he opened the door, the sight that met his eyes was not what he'd been expecting. Hermione Granger was standing in front of him in what had once been a Hogwarts School Uniform. It didn't look particularly like she'd altered it. The uniforms were not made for adults and it looked downright indecent on one.
"Miss Granger…What -are- you wearing?" he asked, schooling his expression harder than he had since Voldemort's death.
It was her turn to be smug. The wicked look on her face made him want to drag her straight to his bedroom. All in good time.
"Oh just something I had, you know, lying around," she replied, raising her eyebrows, "Is there a problem, Professor?"
"Only if you want me to take you seriously. Is this some silly little attempt to throw me off in order to win your debate? Tacky, even for you Miss Granger," he said, checking his nails as if they were far more interesting than her attire.
"It's only tacky if it works. It wouldn't be the first time you underestimated me," the fire in her eyes was already igniting, "But it might just be the last."
He stepped aside to let her into the room.
"Bold, still trying to win a debate against a man that used his silver tongue to deceive for 20 years," he leaned down and whispered in her ear as she passed him, "Or is it that you enjoy being put down?"
Her head snapped so that their eyes met. He didn't intrude but it almost felt as though she was asking him to. He didn't try, he didn't need to look into her mind to know that she was practically shaking with lust. Her dilated pupils and the smell of her arousal were a dead giveaway. He smirked, Gryffindors and their lack of subtlety. Her own body betrayed her in his presence.
"And what makes you think I've given any thought to that tongue of yours?" she asked, never breaking eye contact and quirking an eyebrow.
His smirk grew, "Oh come now, Miss Granger…I'm a Potion's Master. I have an extremely keen sense of smell."
Her cheeks grew red but she didn't back down, oh he was going to enjoy this. He withdrew from her and took the seat behind his desk, motioning to the chair opposite him. He was enjoying this game far too much to give in just yet. She watched him, unblinking as she took her seat.
"Now…where were we?"
"You cannot possibly be siding with Hawthorne. The man is a drunk and hasn't published a paper worth reading in 15 years. And before that, he was subpar at best. His theory on distilled Basilisk Venom nearly killed 20 people in the trials," she was pacing in front of his desk. Her hair was wild, cheeks red, and she'd been nursing that damned Acid Pop for nearly an hour.
"Every experiment comes with its risks. If you're ever going to be an apprentice, I suggest you get used to not every trial being successful." He was standing behind the desk, palms resting on its surface.
She looked at him as if he'd just sprouted a second head.
"An apprentice?" she asked, "What do you mean?"
"I have determined that with your new found ability to think for yourself that there is a place for you as my apprentice," he said, standing up straight and clasping his hands behind his back.
"Oh my, the great and mighty Severus Snape has deigned to give me the opportunity to learn from him," she said, crossing her arms over her chest, "Let me just get down on my knees and thank Godric you've finally found me worthy."
He rounded the desk in a sweep, capturing her jaw between thumb and index finger.
"That cheek if yours is going to get you into trouble, Granger," his voice was low, barely a whisper, "Watch your mouth."
"Why would I do that, when I have you to do it for me?" she asked, defiance dripping from every letter.
"I think it's high time someone put you in your place, Granger," he said, nostrils flaring.
A small smirk played on her lips as she threw the stick of her Acid pop on the floor at his feet.
"You're going to pick that up and dispose of it properly," he hissed out.
"Make me."
That was all he needed to grab a fistful of her hair and crash his lips down against hers. It was a rough kiss that made him feel dizzy. He grounded himself in the feeling of her body against his. All the dancing they'd been doing, the months of heated debates, it was all worth it for this moment.
When he pulled away, she was breathing heavily, her lips were swollen and she looked like she was ready to melt to the floor. Perfect.
"Now…are you ready to be a good girl and do as you're told?" he asked, still holding her to him.
"What do I get if I do?"
"I may let you cum before you leave tonight," he said, tracing a finger along her jaw. He felt her shiver against him.
"And if I'm not?"
"Then you'll leave. Without what you actually came here for," he said this in her ear, his tongue reaching out to taste the lobe, his teeth raking the soft flesh. She was quivering, and he'd bet her eyes were completely rolled back.
"Y-yes," she gasped out.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good girl."
