A/N: Hello! If you saw this go up on ao3 first and were wondering why it wasn't here, the answer is that I forgot.
original note: hello! it's me. i was wondering if after all these months, you'd like to read?
okay, adele reference out of the way, i am so excited for y'all to have this chapter. everyone seemed very pleased with the promise of a one bed trope, and i hope this delivers. it is a LONG one, the promise of the premise, and i can't wait to hear your thoughts. i will say that this chapter took me a bit to edit because i wrote the first draft of this fic a year and a half ago and i think my writing has come a long way since then, so i needed to go back and revise this chapter to be what i wanted and what i think the story truly deserves. i hope it lives up to your expectations.
looking at my chapter count, apparently we have one more and then the epilogue? that feels wrong. i could have sworn there were two more chapters and then the epilogue. i might split chapter ten if it's too long, i haven't decided. but either way, we're getting to the end. buckle up and enjoy the chaotic ride! this chapter is for sure where we get the rating for the fic, so you've been warned!
thanks as always to photon08 and aureliandreams for making me a better writer. and thanks to EmilyRickman for beta'ing this chapter as well! I am posting before all my betas' notes come back because I'm too excited to wait, so don't be surprised if little things get updated later.
tw that this chapter discusses scars
Okay, here we go! Ahh!
Severus let them into the room. The pronounced creak of the wooden door warped by years of atmosphere and storms on the mountain wasn't helping to dispel the anxiety that suffused the air around them.
Hermione inhaled a quick, sharp breath, and Severus closed his eyes to the obvious answer:
Of course. Of course there was only one bed.
Were the gods trying to punish him? Bring him as close as possible to the very thing he wanted knowing he would never have a chance?
Thank Merlin there was a chair in the far corner of the cozy room that he could transfigure into a bed. A small one, perhaps. It would be uncomfortable, but not more so than standing there with his former student turned schoolboy crush.
That wasn't fair; she was more than that. She had become his truest friend, and the thought of her leaving sent a pain weaving through his ribcage and wrapping around his heart, squeezing until a few tears pricked the corners of his eyes.
"Wow," he heard her whisper softly behind him as she entered the room, glancing around at the warm wood tones. "It's beautiful." Her eyes fell on the luxurious bed with the cream comforter over deep red sheets, the kind of red that looked as if it were harvested directly from a blood moon.
Hermione smiled at him and Severus' throat went dry.
"I'll start a fire," he croaked. He walked stiffly over to the grate, needing a moment of space to calm his whirling thoughts. This was not how he intended this weekend to go. He thought it would be one last hurrah—a perfect memory to send her off with and to hold close to his chest on nights he was lonely in his cold, empty home. He was losing control and he didn't like it.
Hermione looked around the room, opening the door to a large bathroom. "I'm just going to take a quick shower," she said. She looked to Severus for confirmation, but he just nodded, still facing the fireplace.
Hermione sighed and entered the room, closing the door behind her. She leaned against the heavy door and exhaled, letting herself relax her shoulders and drop the cheery smile. This was not the evening she was prepared for.
She turned on the water, letting the steam fill the room as she relaxed her muscles and tried to use the time to process the events of the day thus far. It's Severus. It'll be fine. He'll probably be more awkward than you about it.
But though she knew that Severus would never even accidentally try to put her in a position she was uncomfortable with, and though she knew he was not exactly thrilled with their current arrangements, Hermione couldn't help that her stomach fluttered and her heart beat faster at the prospect of spending a night so close to him. She wished… oh, how she wished it could be more…
But this would be enough. She could hold this close to her on nights her apprenticeship left her drained and weary, and she would know that there was at least one Potions Master out there who saw her for all she was.
Twenty minutes later, Hermione was dressed in a white knit sweater, black leggings, and warm socks. Her hair fell around her shoulders in soft, wavy ringlets, and a simple gold necklace adorned her neck, sitting just above her collarbone.
Severus' mouth fell open involuntarily. She was beautiful.
Quickly shutting it before he looked as idiotic as many of his former students, he coughed, muttered a hurried, "Excuse me," and ducked into the bathroom, swiftly closing the door.
~O~O~O~
When he emerged a while later, Severus found Hermione sitting cross-legged on the bed, a Scrabble board laid out in the center of the expansive blanket.
"I nicked it from the community room downstairs," she told him with a mischievous grin. "I thought this might be less awkward if we had something to do."
"I—it's not—I don't feel—" Severus stuttered.
Hermione raised one eyebrow and looked at him with a knowing tilt of her chin.
He huffed a laugh. "Oh, all right." He sat across from her in his long-sleeved black Henley and a pair of dark trousers. "But are you prepared to lose so thoroughly, Miss Granger?"
She looked almost affronted, delicate mouth popping open in surprise. "I am not going to lose."
"We shall see." One side of his mouth pulled up in a smirk.
"We certainly shall," she countered, raising her chin and crossing her arms.
They stared at each other, and slowly both had to bite their cheeks to avoid laughing.
Severus shook his head first, amusement breaking the tension. "Would you like to raise the stakes perhaps?" The casual shrug that accompanied the question did not match the inherent, exciting danger in those words.
"Perhaps," she agreed, equally coolly. She sucked her teeth and thought for a moment, considering it. "What would you like to bet? Winner gets the bed?"
"No." He shook his head. "You will have the bed regardless."
"Secrets, then."
"What?" he asked.
"Trade me in secrets," Hermione said. "I want to know you."
Severus hesitated, narrowing his eyes. "What about me, specifically?"
"Everything," she replied, completely genuine. "Your favorite color, favorite flower. And the things…that you maybe don't tell other people."
He thought for a moment, weighing the cost of such a bet. The possibility of being truly known.
She was leaving anyway. What would the harm be in opening up just this once?
"Deal."
Hermione tapped the letter tile against the board, thinking before she placed it down. She supported her weight on her other arm, her legs tucked up on the bed where she sat. Behind her, the fireplace limned her in a soft warm glow.
She glanced up at Severus, then flicked her eyes down to the board again.
"I know wizards age slowly, but I will die at some point, witch."
Hermione laughed and placed the tile. "I was trying to decide if it was worth doing a five-letter word if it meant having to answer a question."
"I'll go easy on you."
She rolled her eyes. "Since when?"
"Do you doubt my honor?" He raised one brow.
"Never, sir."
He winced. "Don't call me that." It wasn't stern. More of a whisper, almost pleading.
"Sorry." She looked away, biting her cheek. It was awkward for a few moments as she mentally kicked herself for reminding him of their age difference.
He coughed, taking a sip of the wine set on his bedside table. "Well, I think you owe me an answer to a question." He gestured at the tile she had just placed.
Hermione brushed her hair over her shoulder, looking at him with renewed confidence, even if she was shaking inside. The fire, the wine, the context…it was all much more intimate than she had prepared for, and as much as she wanted it, she also very much wanted to avoid embarrassing herself. "What would you like to know?"
"What is your favorite place in the world?"
She smiled sadly, nostalgia written plainly on her features. "It was my parents' house. I always felt safe there. I think that's home to me… Somewhere your heart feels safe. And wherever your home is, that's probably your favorite place, too."
Severus' own heart broke at her tone. He wished so badly that he could fix things for her. "You've tried everything, I'm sure."
She nodded. "Spent more than they really had to make sure. It's all right. They're happy. They just don't know me."
"That is a great loss," he said sincerely.
She sniffled a bit, and gave that laugh one does when they're trying not to cry. "Yes. Well it's your turn now, I believe."
The next several rounds, both of them made six-letter words, so no secrets were shared. But they watched each other closely, constantly looking and avoiding the other's gaze.
Hermione sipped her wine and asked out of the blue, "What is your favorite color?"
"It is not your turn to ask a question, Miss Granger."
"That's hardly a secret though. Unless you think the answer would surprise me."
He stared at her and answered without affect. "Baker-Miller pink."
Hermione's eyebrows rose. "Really?"
Severus' face contorted into a sarcastic look, and she could almost hear the sarcasm written there.
"It's black, isn't it?"
She could practically hear the Obviously though he didn't say it.
"Well done, Miss Granger," he drawled. "Ten points for Gryffindor."
"You giving me points would have been surprising." Her lip pulled up in a smirk.
"Mm, I couldn't be seen favoring any Muggleborn students, now could I? Even if they were the best in their year. It would have made the whole 'most loyal servant of the Dark Lord' thing a little less believable."
"Does that mean you didn't find me annoying?" she challenged, but there was no bite to her voice.
Severus rolled his eyes, taking an eccles cake from the plate they'd had sent up. "No, you were rather irritating." He grinned at her look of indignation. "But there is, perhaps, a chance that I recognized a small part of myself in your need to prove your worth in the wizarding world. That was surprisingly difficult to meet with grace." He exhaled through his nose and shook his head. "Especially when my general bad disposition was encouraged to maintain my cover."
Hermione looked at him with her head tilted just a bit. "You do continue to surprise me, Severus," she said quietly. And then her smirk returned. "Except for the color thing. I still think it could have been indigo or something similar to black." She sipped her wine. "I like to leave room to be wrong."
"You do not. And it is black. The darkest shades they have. In fact, it could be darker. Some day, some swot in Surrey will invent the blackest black there is, and that will be my favorite."
"Well see, that was an interesting answer. I stand by my choice to ask."
Severus smirked, amused by the little witch.
It went on like this for a while, sharing secrets and long-passed desires. Hermione told him that she once thought she'd like scuba diving but had been emotionally scarred from her stint underwater during the triwizard tournament. Severus told her how he'd gotten the worst bout of food poisoning he'd ever had by letting Albus make him a birthday cake, only to realize later that he'd done it on purpose to prevent the Dark Lord from celebrating Severus' birthday with a Muggle raid.
"The old bastard could have been more upfront about what he knew," Severus grumbled.
"What fun would that have been for him?" Hermione asked sarcastically, moving a Scrabble tile between her fingers with frustration, incensed on Severus' behalf.
He shrugged. "I have done a lot of bad in this world. I suppose I deserved far worse than putting up with Albus Dumbledore."
"He did make you kill him."
"You're right, he was the worst."
She smiled and he grinned back.
The fire in the hearth warmed the room and the wine in their glasses added to the effect. Hermione took off her sweater, her thin white camisole underneath revealing more than she ever had previously around him, but the mood of the evening had made her bold.
She wanted him to look.
And Severus looked. Oh, did he look. He swallowed hard, trying not to look for an obscene amount of time, but the way her breasts were pushed together in a little lace bra, the green pattern visible through her shirt... He was glad that his trousers were not so tight.
"I believe it is your question," he said with a noticeable gravel to his voice.
Hermione pushed her hair over her shoulder, the curls defying gravity and framing her heart-shaped face, and leaned in just a fraction closer to him. Her eyes locked with his.
"Who was your first kiss?"
Severus froze. She saw the immediate shuttering of his Occlumency shields and worried that she had pushed too far. But slowly, the walls came down again, his shoulders dropped, and he blinked.
"Lily."
"Really?" Hermione's eyes widened.
"Yes. It was nothing, we were hardly more than children. During the summer, sometimes Lily's mother would send the both of them out of the house and we'd get stuck taking Petunia along with us. One day, we were playing a game, and it was a dare. That's it. I don't think it would have happened otherwise."
Hermione's heart broke for him. To be so close to the one you love, but not really have them. To have a facsimile of what you want—
She shook her head to clear her thoughts. It was too similar, and that was dangerous when she was already trapped in a room with him. The moment he figured her out, he would be uncomfortable, and she didn't want that—not really.
"I have another question," she whispered, as something occurred to her, and she already half regretted starting. "But you don't have to answer."
He watched her carefully, lip pulled between her teeth, one hand nervously playing with the gold chain around her neck. He considered her carefully before slowly, deliberately placing down a three-letter word on the board. "Now I do."
She took the smallest of inhales and her free hand gripped and released the section of blanket beneath it, over and over again.
Severus didn't like seeing her so nervous. "Whatever it is, Hermione," he said gently, "you can ask me. I won't be cross."
One corner of her mouth twitched in amusement, but it quickly fell again and she looked down. She took a breath, seeming to steady herself, and looked up at him with her chin still tucked. If it weren't for whatever she was going to ask, he would think it looked flirtatious.
"Did you…ever truly believe what the Dark Lord was saying?"
Severus tilted his head; it wasn't the question he expected, but he supposed he should have known she'd ask this one eventually. He considered how much truth to give her, and couldn't get away from the feeling that she deserved it all. She was leaving soon anyway, he reminded himself, and he'd had no one to really tell about this particular topic in—well—ever.
"I think I believed in my own entitlement." He spoke in slow, measured tones, aware that she was holding her breath. "The Dark Lord had a way of making you see what you were missing as something the world was keeping from you. So I blamed everyone else for how powerless I felt. I blamed them for the love I thought I deserved. I blamed them for everything. And he provided an outlet for that."
"You do deserve love, Severus."
She said it with such conviction that his heart ached in his chest and his smile was lost by the time it reached his cheeks. "That is very kind, but it doesn't change the fact that I had a warped sense of what the world owed me. However, I did not think anyone was worse because of their blood. It's very important to me that you know that, Hermione. I did not think anyone was inferior because of their birth. If anything, I thought I was, and I hated it."
Hermione nodded, watching him intensely. "I understand."
Severus was grateful that she didn't take the time to try to convince him otherwise. He felt the dam opening and needed to get all of it out before he lost his nerve. He felt like he was under a microscope, but he forced himself to continue, though he couldn't meet her eyes.
"He promised to help make me someone I wouldn't hate anymore. For the first time, someone was pleased with me. Someone was proud of me. And not just teachers who looked the other way when Potter and his gang strung me up by my ankles on various fixtures around the school." He thumbed the edge of the tile he was holding over and over, trying not to let his emotions about his past distract him. It wasn't the time to feel those things. This was the time to share, not drown in it. "It was the first time someone was powerful enough to fight for me, and did. Or I thought he did. It was all a lie. I regret nothing more than the things I did while under his influence. And in the end, there was no one to blame but myself."
Hermione had placed her tile to the side during his speech. She seemed to be considering his words very carefully.
Finally, she asked, "So Lily wasn't your only exception?"
Severus shook his head. "Merely my first."
She nodded absent-mindedly as she absorbed everything he said. "All of that, it makes sense. It's how cults form, really—"
"I appreciate your willingness to understand," he cut her off, "but please do not make excuses for me."
"It's not an excuse," she said, meeting his eye. "I'm not saying that any of the pain he or you or any one of the Death Eaters caused was excused by it." She swallowed. "I just meant that it makes sense, how he was able to trick you and probably several of the others. I'm sure some of them really are evil and were excited to have power for the wrong reasons. But cults tend to prey on the vulnerable, and that's what you were. I'm not trying to write away your past, Severus, I promise. I wouldn't do you the disservice. I'm just trying to make sense of it all."
Severus nodded, his gaze breaking from the intensity of hers, and he looked at the Scrabble board. It seemed ages ago that they had begun such an innocent game, and now they were discussing his biggest regrets. He almost smiled to himself; leave it to Hermione Granger to turn a game into a dissection of his psyche.
"Did you love her?"
He looked up at once, meeting her eyes with something like irritation, and a scowl on his face. "I know you've seen the memories."
She shrugged. "Watching someone else live something only tells us so much. I'm asking you how you felt. Or…feel."
It was suddenly crucial to her to know. The air in the room had suddenly turned heavy, the unspoken knowledge kept somewhere behind his lips weighing down on them, and Hermione wasn't sure if it was better to be crushed by the unknown or untethered by the truth.
But she needed to know the answer.
Severus met her eyes, inky gaze both piercing and molten.
"I loved her as a boy. I never loved her as a man."
Hermione inhaled sharply.
"She was my first friend. My only friend, for a long time. Certainly the only one that saw me as worth knowing without asking for anything in return. But I am not in love with Lily Potter. I haven't been for decades."
"Have you been alone this whole time?" She didn't mean for the sadness to slip into her tone, but she couldn't help it.
They both ignored the board, the rules of the questions, pretense of the game long forgotten.
Severus shrugged. "The war didn't provide me many avenues for long-term relationships. It certainly didn't allow for anything with someone I would want to keep safe. I've found what I needed here or there in various places since then, but nothing prolonged. Even my longest arrangement through Sugar Quills was maybe six months, a few years ago. And I don't think she could say she knew very much about me by the end."
Hermione's jealousy flared in her stomach, but she tried to stamp it down and focus on what he was telling her. "Did that bother you? That she didn't know you very well?"
"I liked it that way. I prefer it that way." The corner of his mouth twitched up. "Usually."
A streak of possessiveness spurred her on. In a deep, almost rough tone, Hermione confessed, "I want to know you."
"Why?" he asked with a look of genuine surprise.
"Because I think you're worth getting to know."
Severus looked down at her. With the way she was leaning forward, her necklace hung away from her chest, brushing just at the top of her cleavage, her Muggle camisole hugging her body tighter than any wizards' robes would. Her leggings covered the length of her from hips to ankles, but they were fitted to her bum in such a way he felt he could have mapped every curve she had.
She was staring at him with open, knowing eyes, and Severus swallowed. He had to make a decision. Was he willing to push the bounds of their relationship, even if she didn't want more in the end? Even if she was leaving? Even if she was going to break his heart when she did?
The way she was looking at him…she felt some pull towards him too. That was obvious now; he couldn't deny it. It felt…it felt like they were in this together. That they wanted the same thing. Just maybe—
But she was leaving. So, what if this was all they got? So what if this was all they got? Should he deny himself something they both wanted because he was afraid to lose her? He was going to lose her anyway.
His heart clenched as his mind whirled with indecision. What if he was wrong and her interest in him started at friendship and ended at sexual chemistry and he was going to join a very exclusive club of people that knew what loving her and losing her felt like? Maybe he would open up to her and she would devour him and walk away without looking back. She could. She wasn't his and never was and this wasn't real in the ways he wished it were.
But as he held her gaze, a stronger feeling took root. Something that felt more true. Maybe the hunger and desire and need in her eyes was just as strong as in his. Maybe she was changing the rules, maybe she was tired of the game, tired of fighting it too. Maybe she wanted him just as desperately as he wanted her and maybe that didn't stop at his body and what it could give her in this moment. Maybe she saw something in his mind or in his wretched soul that she truly did find worthy.
I want to know you, she had said.
Maybe she would walk away without looking back. Or maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe she wanted to get to know him. Maybe she wanted more.
Maybe, just this once—
"Hermione…"
"I'm right here."
He leaned in quickly, and kissed her, their lips slotting together like they'd done this many times before. Severus' hand wrapped around the back of her head and cradled her neck as Hermione grabbed his arms and he pulled her on top of him.
She wrapped her legs around his hips with a desperate, frenetic energy, and leaned into him, her palms pressed to either side of his head, heart beating a painful tattoo where her ribcage pressed against his.
His fingers danced over the edges of her shirt, one finger slipping beneath the hem as heat radiated from both of them with just a simple touch. Severus moved to lift the bottom of her shirt and Hermione flinched, pulling back just a little.
"It's…I…there's a scar," she whispered timidly, closing her eyes tight.
Severus looked at her, this beautiful, breathtaking witch in front of him, ashamed of a body that she had fought and won a war in. That she had saved lives in. That she had proven herself in more times than he could count. And she felt shame over a scar.
He could not allow it.
He took one of her hands gently. "Hermione," he said in a low voice. "Look at me."
She opened her eyes slowly, but her face was still scrunched, her shoulders rounded, ready for the blow.
"I know there is a scar there," he said, still quiet. "I healed the curse wound."
Her eyes broke from his before returning, pain in her voice. "It's ugly," she said. She knew her pettiness and shallow desire to be found pretty was a turn off, but she couldn't help herself. She felt laid bare with him.
"It is not. It is a part of you." He cupped her cheek with one hand, catching the tear that was rolling down the soft skin with his thumb. "This is your body, Hermione. Do not let the man you fought live inside your skin."
Hermione felt more tears roll from her eyes unbidden. She leaned her forehead against his and exhaled shakily, huffing out a laugh, still embarrassed by her emotions. But she felt a little better.
"May I?" he asked, wanting to show her how beautiful she was.
She paused for only a moment before nodding. Severus maneuvered them so that she was kneeling while still sitting on his lap and their eyes were level, his back against the headboard.
Severus took the pads of his thumbs and gently wiped her tears away, her soft skin sending a shiver up his spine. He slowly moved both hands down until he reached the top swell of her breasts, where the beginning of her scar was just barely visible. He held her gaze, his intention clear, and slowly leaned forward, pressing his lips so lightly to the place where her soft skin met the jagged scar.
She whined a sound that was half relief, half pain, and Severus knew in that moment it was a release—that she had never been told before that she was perfect—worthy—as she was. And unfortunately for her, this was the one place that no amount of studying or ambition could change. It came from trust—faith in the person you open yourself up to not to tear you down. As much as Severus felt a flood of indignation and a desire to hex her past lover for making her doubt herself, he knew he could not change the past. He would not focus on that.
What he could do was give her every reassurance now of how devoutly he wanted to worship her body, exactly as it was.
His fingers grasped the bottom of the tight fabric around her waist and slowly peeled the shirt upwards. Hermione lifted her arms into the air to aid him, and as her hair fell back down around her shoulders, he looked into her eyes and saw they were wet with tears.
She was afraid.
He cupped her face and her eyes fluttered shut at the tenderness, teardrops rolling down her cheeks and onto his palms. Severus waited as she took a deep breath in and out and seemed to calm. When she opened her eyes again, she gave him a watery smile, and hope fluttered in his stomach.
Slowly, he lowered one hand and held it just over her scar, not touching. Seeking permission.
She nodded.
As gently as possible, he brushed against the rigid skin, tracing down to where it tapered off just above her navel. Hermione whimpered, but it wasn't pain, and he leaned in to catch her mouth with his, her passion and need pouring out of her so undiluted it almost overwhelmed him.
Hermione grasped behind his shoulders, tilting her head so his lips traversed the length of her jaw. All the while, his fingers drifted up the sides of her ribcage, coming around to cup her breasts in his hands.
He kissed the shell of her ear as his thumbs slowly circled her nipples. He exhaled a shaky sigh. "You are so beautiful."
"Severus," she breathed, hungrily bringing her mouth back to his, desperation and desire on her tongue. "Please."
"What do you want, witch? Tell me and it's yours."
She moaned into his mouth. "Please. Please let me see you."
He kissed her again and nodded.
Hermione's hands dashed to the top of his Henley and she laughed a sweet soft sound. "I always pictured this with more buttons involved."
She'd pictured him? His pride and desire soared together as he reached down and peeled the shirt over his head, desperate to feel her hands on his own scarred body.
Her eyes fell to his chest and with each line they traced, Severus' confidence waned. She could not possibly find his scars anything but repulsive. Hers were a part of her, part of her story, her heroism. His were a roadmap of bad decisions.
Hermione saw him shutting down and lifted his head to hers. Gently, slowly, she brushed her thumbs along his cheekbones and down his jaw, the barely-there shadow of a beard prickling the sensitive pads of her fingertips.
"I see you, Severus. All of you. I want it all." His eyes met hers briefly, but darted away again. She held his face and moved to catch his gaze. He obliged her, but she could see the anxiety and self-loathing in it. "I want all of you. Please don't hide from me."
A soft whine escaped his lips. The pain inside his heart was exquisite, his stomach ill. As beautiful as her acceptance was, he knew it would be fleeting. No one ever seemed to tolerate all of him for long.
Perhaps that was what made him brave now. He would lose her soon, but he would always have this night. He wouldn't have a chance to ruin it, to drive her away with his distasteful personality and scarred reputation. She'd be gone before the shine wore off.
It was safe. He could have this.
And there was little more thought than that as he pulled her mouth to his again, tasting her divine understanding, her boundless potential—drinking of it as a man dying of thirst seeks the mirage in the desert. If she was a mirage, she would be the most beautiful image to send him off.
"Severus," she moaned. And it certainly sounded real enough.
"Say it again," he begged in a gravelly voice, his eyelids fluttering closed.
"Severus." She pressed a kiss to his lips. "Severus." Another to one eye. "Severus." And the other.
"Severus," she sighed, pressing her lips to his forehead and keeping them there.
Her words, her touch, his name from her lips all grounded him. She was real. This was real. More real than his youthful passion for Lily had been. More real than any other woman who had claimed to want him, only to want something from him. Who had thought they'd known him. This was true knowing.
He could have this.
"Hermione." He kissed her again, rolling her underneath him, her skin pressed to his bare chest. He pressed kisses down between her breasts, down the length of her scar, worshipping its jagged edges and all the proof that her body had fought to seal itself and be whole again. A rush of pride went through him at the realization that the witch beneath him was a fighter, the only person who might ever truly understand what that meant the same way he did.
Hermione keened under his touch, the combination of his attentions on her physical scar and the catharsis from the emotional one becoming pleasurable in a way she hadn't expected. Her skin tingled pleasantly everywhere his lips touched, and she felt a great tension release in her chest.
Her hands reached for his trousers and he quickly unbuttoned them, kicking them off and reaching for hers next. As she lifted her hips, Severus dragged them down her legs and his breath caught.
Her lace bra had a matching pair of knickers. Delicate ribbons and cut outs, shimmering glitter embedded into fabric, all strategically crafted to adorn her perfect sex.
His mouth went dry. He looked at her face—wanton mess that she was—lying with her hair splayed out on the pillow, arms up, naked save for green and silver undergarments he couldn't possibly have been meant to see…
He needed to know.
"Are these…" He swallowed against the dryness in his throat. "Are these for me?"
She bit her lip and nodded.
Severus groaned and his cock twitched. "Are you trying to kill me, witch?" Crawling back up her body, he slotted himself between Hermione's thighs and supported himself on his elbows as he looked at her gently freckled face.
"Technically, you bought them for me, so…"
Her eyes glinted mischievously and a surge of masculine pride rushed through him. He didn't know he could feel more turned on in that moment, but a wave of possessiveness, wanting to touch her, claim her, know that she was his, dressed up for him in something he'd made happen, sent the blood straight to his cock, and he pushed forward, rubbing his covered length against the pretty knickers.
"I want you," he rasped in her ear.
"You have me," she said.
He groaned again, his teeth nipping teasingly at her earlobe as he slipped one hand down the front of her knickers.
She was soaked.
"Fuck, Hermione." His fingers dipped into the pool of liquid gathering at her entrance.
"That's for you as well," she said coyly, kissing him on the cheek.
He stole some of her arousal and rubbed it onto her clit, pressing gentle circles onto the sensitive bud. Hermione grasped his arms, body going taut beneath him as he focused her pleasure on the singular spot.
"Gods I've wanted to feel you for so long," he confessed, mesmerized as his hand moved inside her delicate knickers.
Her mouth opened on a gasp and there was fire in her gaze. "Please, Severus, I want you, I need you."
"I want to watch you fall apart for me first," he murmured against her lips. "Keep your eyes on me."
Hermione held his gaze obediently as he sped up his ministrations, the heel of his palm pressing against her clit as he dipped two fingers inside her, just far enough to tease. She mewled, pushing her hips to search for the stretch he was withholding, but he continued at the same pace, testing her patience.
After several minutes, she couldn't take it anymore.
"Inside, inside," she panted, lightheaded with anticipation.
Severus smiled and slipped two long fingers into her channel. Hermione came immediately with a gasp, her walls clenching down on his fingers, her eyes on his.
He watched as she opened her world to him completely, the vulnerability in her eyes intoxicating. It was the closest thing to trust he'd ever seen. "Beautiful," he breathed.
"Severus," she spoke quietly, a slight rasp to her voice from the force of her orgasm and moans. "Please fuck me now."
"With pleasure, witch." He kissed her and pulled her bottom lip between his teeth, and smiled. "With great pleasure."
Lifting her with one hand so her back arched, Severus slipped a hand underneath to unhook the green lacy bra. Pulling the dainty garment from her, he gazed at her chest, perfect dusky nipples sitting atop her soft breasts. It wasn't even a conscious thought as he leaned in to capture one in his mouth, his hand palming her other breast and tugging her nipple between his finger and thumb over and over again.
Hermione writhed under his touch, grasping at him desperately. She used her feet to kick down his boxers, his erection nearly getting stuck in the material. But then he was naked and lying on top of her with only her incredibly small knickers between them, more decoration than function.
Severus felt her heat along the base of his cock and groaned around her tit, biting down ever so slightly. Hermione moaned and rocked her hips, the lace adding stimulation to his hyper-sensitive skin.
His heart beat faster, his body eager to connect with hers. Kissing down her stomach with feverish need, he swiped his tongue over the tail end of her scar, knowing from experience how sensitive that could be, and settled near her hot, wet core. He kissed the junction of her hip and thigh, dragging his tongue across the top of the lace and then pulling it down with his teeth. Slowly, slowly, slowly…
Until the last scrap of fabric was out of the way.
Severus breathed her in deeply, the scent that was just Hermione and need, a clear view of soft curls covering the top of her cunt. Her lips glistened, swollen with arousal, and her clit poked out, begging to be sucked.
Severus thought he might drop dead.
He had never seen anything more perfect in his life, which felt like a ridiculous sentiment, but he felt it to his core anyway. He wasn't entirely sure where in his life he'd gone right to warrant deserving this moment, being there with her, but he didn't want to question it anymore. The fact was that Hermione Granger was begging him to fuck her, and his mouth was merely inches from her core, watering at just the sight and scent of her arousal.
He felt like the luckiest bastard in the world.
Hermione looked down towards him, waiting. Why was he hesitating? Was something wrong?
Was he having second thoughts?
Still coming off the high of what was easily one of her top five orgasms, she suddenly felt like she might cry. Why wasn't he doing anything? Was he regretting this already? He couldn't possibly still be upset about her being his former student, not after everything they'd shared. Perhaps he just found her lacking once he removed the trussed up lingerie and allure of the unknown.
Her face heated. How embarrassing. It was their first kiss all over again—he'd had a taste and was looking for a way to take off before it could lead anywhere else. Well, she refused to just lie there for him to ogle.
Feeling unfathomably small beneath his gaze, she whispered, "Severus?"
His eyes snapped to hers as he looked up at her face and found confusion there.
"If you don't want to—" she started.
"Hermione," he interrupted. "I want to. I would love to." And to illustrate the sincerity of his point, he kept his eyes on hers while he placed a chaste kiss directly onto that bundle of nerves he was dying to suck into his mouth. "I was merely in awe of the creature I have before me." Another kiss, slightly lower. "You"—another one lower—"are"—and lower…"exquisite." And he swept his tongue through her folds, tasting the liquid that had gathered from her slit.
Hermione gasped, head thrown back against the pillow as he licked her over and over like a man starved. Teasing the sensitive, thin skin near her entrance, he pushed into her, tracing her ridges and coating his tongue in her essence. He felt drunk on her taste, and his heart soared as her hands wound into his hair and she pulled him tight against her core. His nose bumped deliciously into her clit.
"Severus, I'm, I'm—"
Yes, give it to me, witch. Fuck, give it all to me, I want you, I want you, I want you.
Hermione came, shuddering against his mouth, thighs compressing his head from either side as more of her juices rushed out of her slit and down his chin. She smelled like amortentia and tasted like ambrosia and he would spend eternity drinking of her if given the chance.
Her hands grasped at his arms and he looked up to find her trying to pull him up her body. Her eyes were glazed and yet still hungry, and she was smiling at him. For him. He gave her sticky sex one more kiss and crawled up her body, caging her with his own.
He kissed her softly, letting her taste herself on his lips, still blissed out from her second orgasm. He shifted so the head of his cock was pressed against her slit—and her eyes went wide, suddenly sobering up.
Fuck. There it was, the look he had been waiting for. The smile had evaporated and her eyes were clear. Hermione hardly seemed to be breathing as she glanced down at where his cock waited to press into her.
Severus could only guess what she was thinking—two orgasms later, attraction must have seemed to fade to horror as the reality of what she was about to do hit her. Letting her bastard of a potions teacher, an ex-Death Eater, fuck her must have suddenly seemed abhorrent.
He held very still, willing his heart not to break before he could extricate himself and shatter in solitude.
She still hadn't looked back up.
Hermione tried not to let her panic show, but she knew she was failing at it. She had dreamed of this moment for weeks and suddenly felt so unprepared. What was she thinking? Her previous experience hadn't really left her with the confidence to feel she could impress him.
What if she was bad at it?
What if he left too?
Logically, she knew it was unlikely. She had wanted his approval for years, but that need had morphed into something more over the last month. Something more genuine, more equal. He was nothing like anyone she'd known… He'd shown her such tenderness, such kindness. If he took it away again after she opened up to him, after they crossed this line, surely it would crush her.
Be brave, Hermione, she pleaded with herself. He cares. Let him care.
She would try.
Severus sucked in a breath through his nose, and it brought her attention back to his face. He would not cry in front of her. He would not embarrass himself like that just because he hadn't been able to keep to the rules of their agreement. Just because he went and fell—
No.
He could not go there, not even in his mind. Not if he wished for any semblance of dignity.
"I think, perhaps, we are done for the evening?" he asked, not sure how to phrase it.
She made a strange squeaking sound in the back of her throat, and her brows furrowed as she looked at him. "Are you…do you…do you not want to? Do this?"
He searched her expression, trying to ascertain her thoughts without the use of Legilimency. He asked, equally seriously, "Do…you?"
"Yes!" she said too quickly, but that was why he believed her. "But not if you don't want to. You shouldn't feel obligated to continue if you'd rather not, you know…" She waved a hand, gesturing towards their lower halves. "With me," she added quietly.
Severus huffed a laugh of relief and looked at her. "Hermione. Please. Trust me when I say no part of this feels like an obligation." He relaxed his face, looking at her earnestly again. "But I do not want you to feel we have to continue, either. We can stop. It's all right."
"I don't want to stop," she whispered.
He searched her again as thoughts circled through his head, the push and pull of the evening making him doubt and giving him reassurance in equal measures.
As if she knew exactly what he needed at that point, her hand came up and gently rested on his cheek.
"Severus…"
It was tender and gentle, her soft hand against his skin, and he shuddered on the exhale.
There would be no coming back from this.
And then, she smiled. Small. Intimate. Just for him.
He reached between them, stroking his cock, once, twice, just to make sure amidst the emotional atmosphere that he would be ready for her, as if he could ever be ready for her, and pushed the head against her center.
Hermione's other hand came up to his face as well and she held him there as he pushed forward ever so gently. Severus watched her eyes darken as she felt the head of his cock slip past the opening and take up space inside her. He watched her intently as he pushed an inch at a time, moving back out each time to slick his cock with her fluids and ease the intrusion.
Her eyes never left his.
He slipped further into her, feeling her tight heat envelop nearly his entire length, her body perfectly ready to accept him. In, out—slick, tease. Slow, soft, he cherished her with each thrust. One more push forward and he was fully seated inside her.
Hermione gasped at the stretch and Severus tried not to lose himself as he felt her wrapped around him as completely as possible. He stilled, waiting for her to adjust. Hermione was looking at him with something like awe, and he felt his heart swell.
And then she flexed her inner muscles around him.
"Fuck," he panted. He hadn't meant to—she just felt so good. So perfect. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her curls as he willed his body to obey him. He rocked his hips once, pressing in as deeply as he could. "Fuck, Hermione." He pulled out a little, then pressed in again, holding himself still. "So fucking tight."
Her hands moved to his back and she gently dragged her nails up and down his spine. "Severus?"
"Yes?"
"Move."
He pulled his face back to hers and saw the raw desire in her eyes, knew a molten warmth was pooling in her abdomen. Onyx held amber as he dragged his cock slowly along her walls, feeling every ridge of her soft, warm core massage him until he was nearly completely withdrawn from her again.
And then he thrust back in deep.
Her eyes rolled back and she grabbed his arms forcefully, hissing a long yes as she squeezed her walls around him. Severus groaned, dipping his head to catch her lips with his own. He thrust again and again, driving her higher and higher until her voice was a soft whine and her breath came in tiny little pants underneath him.
He slowed again, teasing her and trying to calm his wild heartbeat so this wouldn't end before he wanted, rocking into her slowly. Her lips brushed his and her tongue darted out, licking the seam of his mouth. He parted his lips, allowing her entry, and felt her tentative exploration. He met her with his own as he slowly tasted the inside of her mouth, both shutting their eyes in mutual bliss.
Her hands slid over his shoulders as he continued to thrust in and out, and her thumb caught the edge of a different texture—scar tissue.
Hermione's eyes flew open, watching him as he froze above her. Her hand was dangerously close to the bite that had nearly claimed his life.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, starting to panic. She pulled her hand away, holding it out to the side in mid-air. "I'm sorry. I—"
"Hermione."
Her mouth snapped shut as she waited for his reaction. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing. Opening them again, he reached for her hand, pulling it back to him and kissing her palm before placing it ever so gently on his scar with a shuddering breath.
"I…I trust you."
Oh.
The well of emotion bubbled up inside her so quickly that she thought she'd either drown or fall over the edge. A sheen of tears coated her eyes as she looked up into the face of one of the most feared men she knew, completely open to her.
It was too much.
She started to breathe too quickly, suddenly overwhelmed by the level of intimacy she found in his gaze. She had never been looked at like that in her life. Not by anyone.
She felt seen. Cared for. Cherished. As if to punctuate her thoughts, he leaned in, gently kissing her as he released his hold on her hand, allowed her access to a part of him that she was sure without asking no one had ever been allowed to touch.
It was too much.
Two tears rolled down the sides of her face as he kissed her with a softness she didn't know was possible, and her other hand came up to his cheek, where he leaned into her palm.
It was perfect.
It was too much.
Feeling herself hyperventilating, she pulled away quickly with a gasp, her eyes flitting back and forth between his. Severus was looking at her with surprise and concern. He took a breath to speak but she placed a finger on his lips.
He stilled, watching her for some indication of what to do next.
With a violence she hadn't expected to feel, Hermione grabbed his face and pulled it towards her, kissing him hard and fisting his hair in her hands to press her face to his.
Severus groaned, thrusting once more as she bit and nipped and sucked on his lips, her tongue fighting his for dominance.
"Fuck, witch, so good. You feel so good."
His words spurred her on and she grabbed him by the arms and pushed, trying to roll them. He followed her motion, pulling her with him. She saw the surprise in his face once again as she straddled him, her fingers tracing down the corded muscles of his abdomen.
His hands traced down the sides of her ribs, catching the swell of her breasts as his thumbs moved to her nipples. Hermione felt small and delicate next to him, and the way he touched her felt as much protective as possessive.
She stared down at him with her mouth parted, rocking her hips slowly back and forth and feeling the press of his cock deep inside her. He was stretching her, filling her, claiming space inside her…
She leaned her head back and closed her eyes as the first waves of pleasure rolled through her.
"Severus," she breathed.
He tweaked her nipples, rolling his hips to match her motion. "That's right witch, take your pleasure from me."
She gasped, her walls still pulsing rhythmically around him, and leaned forward all at once. Grabbing his wrists from her breasts, she pushed them above his head and held them against the pillow. Her face was inches from his, and Severus was looking at her with surprise and arousal, his pupils blown wide, pushing his already dark irises to the edges.
Hermione pushed herself back onto his cock over and over again, kissing him just as violently as before, the tender touches giving way to rough grasping, clutching, scratching. They both held on to each other like a lifeline. Hermione kissed down the unblemished side of his neck, down to his chest, resting her head on his sternum. One hand still on his wrist, she moved the other down to her clit.
Severus moaned, and she could feel the deep resonance through her body.
"Do you want to touch your pretty little pussy for me, Hermione?"
Fuck. She clenched around him, feeling her body reaching for that peak again.
"You want more? You want to come on my cock again, you greedy little perfect girl?" He pulled his hand free from her wrist and grabbed her by the hips, grinding her against him. "Take it, Hermione. Take all of it," he rasped.
A desperate moan escaped her throat and she pressed her fingers back and forth on her clit. "More."
Severus held her still while he thrust from below, hard and fast. "That's right, feel me, let me give you what you desire."
Holding her breath, Hermione rubbed faster and faster, craning her neck to look at him as he fucked her with such control she could do nothing but accept the heady pleasure. He was stretching her, stroking himself inside her waiting body.
Delirious with the sensation, she reached to touch his scar again, timidly, brushing it gently despite the rough way he was moving them both together. She felt him suck in a ragged breath and her eyes locked on his. Reaching as much as she could while he held her, she pressed her lips towards the scar and kissed it, pulling a groan from him that was half pleasure, half pain. He pistoned in and out of her with a desperate speed.
Their eyes stayed locked as she felt her walls tighten and shock waves of pleasure radiate through her body once again. Her sex clenched around him, trying desperately to milk him, claim him, send him over the edge too. She needed it, needed him—again and again and again.
"Severus, please," she begged. "I need it. I want it, please, please, please."
"What do you want, Hermione?" He ground his words out between his teeth, trying to hold on as he drove into her sensitive channel.
"Come inside me," she whispered. "Severus, please."
"Fuck, witch, fuck, fuck, fuck—"
He wanted to, so desperately, and he also never wanted this to end.
He slammed into her hard and fast and Hermione pushed back, pulling him up by his shoulders as she moved. He understood and sat up, still connected, still buried deep as she knelt in his lap with nothing between them and kissed his lips, laved at his scar, scratched his back with such primal need Severus felt himself stop breathing. She was grinding her soft, satisfied cunt down on him, clutching his shoulders as she watched him get closer and closer to coming. He didn't want it to ever end.
She was so beautiful to him, her curls stuck to the sweat on her skin, her eyes wide, face pink with the exertion and the afterglow. And she was touching him, kissing him…maybe even loving him…for it certainly felt like the sweetest love when she grazed his scar with her fingertips and looked into his eyes, completely bare to him, and pleaded, "Please come for me, Severus."
His hand flew to her scar and pressed against it. Severus didn't miss the soft gasp from her as they leaned into each other, trapping his hand between their bodies, the other around her back, pulling her closer as her grinding helped him find the release he had only ever dreamed of.
"Hermione."
Her name was a benediction and suddenly he was filling her, and she was everywhere, and nothing could have felt more perfect, his eyes never leaving hers the whole time.
After, only the sound of their heavy breaths slowing as their hearts calmed filled the room.
They held each other still on the soft bed in the warm room, and Severus pulled his hand out from between them, wrapping both around her. Hermione followed suit, and they held each other like that, pressed close together, for a long time.
Neither was sure what would happen when they finally let go.
A/N 2: So what did we think?
Also, thanks to the 99% Invisible podcast for unknowingly giving me the material I needed to make a baker miller pink / vantablack joke in the middle of a smut chapter. Roman Mars, if there's any chance you're reading this, that one was for you. Also, in solidarity with the art world over the exclusivity of vantablack, I have to say: by reading this chapter you agree that you are not Anish Kapoor, you are in no way affiliated to Anish Kapoor, and you are not reading this fic on behalf of Anish Kapoor or an associate of Anish Kapoor.
If you are unaware of the wild history that is Anish Kapoor and the art world, I highly recommend checking out the episode called "their dark materials"!
Anish, if you DO happen to be here, I suppose you can stay.