AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
It had been years since a woman had been in Severus' arms. Unlike every other time this had occurred, this woman was awakening with him. Every other woman who had been in his arms fled the second intimacy had concluded. This one was staying, though this may be to her detriment.
He inhaled her aroma, pure femininity. Men did not tend to wear lavender perfume, or use strawberry cherry shampoo. A man's skin was also not as soft as the person in his arms. Yes, the person in his arms was a woman. Her presence gave him the peace he had given up on ever obtaining. She was so soft, so warm, so inviting, a reminder that the world was not pure drudgery. Even if he was at risk of suffocating from her wild hair becoming lodged in his throat, her presence was enough to calm the stress of the previous day.
His eyes fluttered open as he slid his body closer to hers. Her scent was driving him to distraction. If this was a dream, he never wished to awaken, not if it meant losing her.
As he held her closer and opened his eyes further, the reality of his situation sank into him. This was not a dream. He was conscious, and there was an uninvited intruder in bed beside him. Compounding matters was that she was not any intruder, but one who had broken into his quarters for the second time.
Despite his best wards, his best detection spells, and best defenses, Hermione was in his quarters, and was back in his bed, giving him the fantasy of having someone who cared for him.
His body temperature rose as he stared at her. She was sleeping as if she was in her own bed, in her own room, with her own fiancé.
What was she doing here, and how could he make sure she never invaded his life again?
"What are you doing here?" He yelled.
Hermione's eyes burst open. Her facial color drained as she met his eyes.
"Why are you in my bedroom?" He shouted.
"Your bedroom?" She glanced around before her eyes widened.
"Yes, this is my bedroom, unless you expect me to believe you have a green quilt, black satin bedsheets, and potions journals strewn about the place. What I've described hardly seems to be Mr. Weasley's decor, nor yours for that matter."
"I," she blinked before glancing down.
"You what?" he drawled.
"I, uh, am in your room."
"I believe we've established that."
"I'm here, and must've come in last night," she muttered.
He rolled his eyes. "Once again, your powers of deduction are beyond compare."
She ducked her head under the blankets before screaming. He snorted. Serves her right for breaking in.
"You have to get out of here!" She screamed.
"What?"
"You need to go!"
"Why would I need to go anywhere? This is my bed! You're the one who broke in. You need to leave now!"
"Please don't argue with me," she shook. "Just leave and pretend I was never here."
"No," he snapped. "I refuse to leave my own room because an intruder ordered me to leave. You need to leave! Now!"
"I can't." Her eyes watered. "Not while you're in the room."
"Why not?"
"Because I can't."
"Why?"
"Because," she gulped. "I'm naked."
His eyes grew as a tear trickled down her eye.
"Naked?" He answered in a softer voice.
She nodded as tears fell from her eyes.
Severus suppressed a groan. If there was one thing he despised more than a bushy haired know it all breaking into his home, it was a crying woman. He never knew the correct thing to say to comfort a weeping woman. When a woman began shedding tears, he could not expel from his mind the image of his mother huddled in a corner after a beating. It was pure misfortune that the first thing he must deal with was a distraught woman.
"Please," she answered in a small voice. "Grant me a little modesty. Please leave and don't look at me."
"I cannot leave, not without grabbing my own clothes."
"Then will you leave?"
"If I do, how do you plan to preserve your modesty? Even with magic, clothes do not materialize out of thin air."
Another tear fell from her eyes.
"Here," he left the bed and strolled towards his closet, thankful he'd worn a nightshirt. The last thing anyone needed were two naked people trying to preserve whatever dignity they had left. After scrummaging through his wardrobe, he grabbed a black buttoned up shirt and threw it to her. "Put this on."
"You want me to wear one of your shirts?" She looked at it as if he'd just handed her a headless toad.
"You are naked in my bed and you want to reserve your modesty," he argued. "This is one way of covering yourself. It is one of the largest ones I own, so it should cover you nicely."
She continued to examine it.
"Do not wrinkle it. It is difficult to iron."
She stared at him with a mix of confusion and embarrassment.
"Do not give me that look," he retorted. "You wanted to dress yourself. That shirt should cover you."
"You want me to go home to Ron while wearing one of your shirts?"
"Not necessarily. So long as you leave my quarters with your modesty intact I don't care where you go."
"Ron's going to kill me if he sees me wearing one of your shirts."
"That does not sound like something which should concern me."
"It is if he finds out I've been here and thinks you've seen me in the nude." She picked up the shirt and examined it as if it would explode.
"Why should it bother me that you are naked when you continuously break into my quarters? My only crimes are sleeping and not creating strong enough wards to keep you out."
"You know if Ron suspects us of sleeping together he'll blast you in the media along with me."
He paused, before grinding his teeth together, unwilling to concede her point. It was bad enough that she was breaking into his room. Now, she may destroy his solitary life by drawing in a horde of reporters to a scandal he never wished to be a part of. After the trial, he'd had enough unwanted publicity to last him a lifetime. Why did she need to bring in more?
"Ms. Granger," his voice was low and slow. "Was that a threat?"
"No," she squeaked.
He glared at her for a few moments before taking note of her. Once again, she appeared on the verge of tears, and this time, he was partially to blame. Like his father before him, he was intimidating a woman who was not immediately submitting to his will. Merlin, when had he grown into a bastard like Tobias?
Exhaling, he looked to the ground. Must he always give into the worst parts of himself?
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm being unreasonable. You didn't ask for this."
"No," he returned his attention to her. "I did not."
"I need you to believe that I didn't ask for this either. I don't know why I'm here."
"Do you have any possible ideas on a condition you may have developed to cause this condition?"
"No," she gestured for him to turn around.
"You must have some idea though. After all, you know whether or not you have any health ailments," he spun around, allowing her to put on the shirt.
"I promise you that if I knew anything about why I appeared here I would tell you."
"Do you often appear in people's bedroom for no reason?"
"I never have until now."
"Are you reenacting some kind of dream? Do you dream about me, leading you to appear here?"
She snorted. "Believe me, you are the last person I would ever dream about."
"Good," Severus grunted. "The last thing I would want is for you to be subjected to the nightmares of my physique."
"I had enough nightmares about you in school to last me a lifetime. I do not wish for more."
"For that, I cannot blame you."
She hummed as the bed squeaked underneath her. After a couple of moments she began, "you can look now."
He turned around. For a last minute choice of clothing, she appeared acceptable. One could only hope Ron did not take note of her change in wardrobe. The last thing he needed was for the situation to become more uncomfortable than it already was.
"What's it going to take to shut you up about this?" She asked in a quiet but strong voice.
"Oh yes, my silence," there was a gleam in his eye as his lips curled up. "Considering that you are the one in my quarters against my will, the price will be high indeed."
"I have to go home to Ron soon and I don't have much more time," she argued. "What is your price of silence?"
"First, you never enter this bedroom again."
"Deal."
"Second, I need some funds to open my own apothecary."
"How much?"
"Great question," he scratched his chin. "If I ask for too much the transfer of funds will be noticeable, so I cannot overplay my hand."
"I'll give you ten thousand galleons."
He huffed. "That will buy ten minutes, not ten years, of my silence."
"I don't have much more I can give you that won't be noticeable, at least not right now."
"You have a point. After all, the transfer of funds can't be too noticeable."
"Thank you for understanding…"
"Twenty thousand galleons."
She bit her lower lip and gulped.
"Twenty thousand galleons for my silence, with the knowledge that if this happens again I will raise my price to twenty-five thousand galleons."
"Fine," She extended her hand. "If I don't give it all to you within the next week I'll give you the rest when I become Minister of Magic."
"You seem awfully confident you'll win the election." He shook her hand.
"I'm only trailing by two points in the polls." She released him. "I can make that up and win without issue."
"Assuming you do not appear in anyone else's bedroom and need to pay them a bribe. At some point, someone will talk. You are lucky I don't want it known that you are breaking into my bedroom."
"I am not breaking into your bedroom."
"Are you asserting that for the last two nights I've become so intoxicated I've lost track of who I do and do not invite into my quarters?"
"No," she glanced to her right. "I do not understand why I am here though. It's disconcerting."
"Indeed, it is disconcerting to have your privacy invaded on a nightly basis and have not idea to the motive of the intruder."
"Look, I'll get this all worked out, I promise."
"Work it out where I will never see you again. So long as I get my twenty-thousand galleons my apothecary, and my privacy I will be happy."
"I'll do everything in my power to ensure you get all of those things."
"That's all I ask."
She glanced down at the shirt before giving him a sheepish grin. "Thank you again for the shirt. I'll give it back to you somehow."
"Just send it back via owl when you give me the note stating you've transferred the funds from your account to mine," he answered.
"I can do that," She swallowed. Then, she turned around and began making her way to the floo.
"Granger?"
She paused and turned to him.
"Good luck with Ronald," his voice was softer. "If he becomes too enraged over the shirt, don't be afraid to come to Potter or Neville. One of them will ensure you are not injured."
"Ron wouldn't hurt me."
"I would hope not," his voice was quieter.
"Thank you for the shirt, and for not yelling at me too much," she swallowed.
"If you don't want me to yell at you again leave immediately," his expression hardened. "I am already fifteen minutes late for breakfast, and I do not like missing my third cup of tea. My patience wears thin when I do not have the proper amount of tea."
"Point taken," she scurried away.
Once he heard her shout out the name of her address and leave, he put his head in his hand and groaned.
This week was already too long, and it had only just begun.