A/N: I am so sorry for such a long delay! I've been so busy with everything, and then when I did get back to writing this, I kept arguing with myself over a particular part of this chapter. Eventually I told myself to shut up and go away, but I'm still a wee bit concerned that perhaps myself was right. So I guess we'll see what you all have to say.

Thank you all for being so patient and continuing with the story! I mentioned this in my A/N on Rumored in Love, but I absolutely adore how many of you immediately jump to my defense if someone offers a criticism - even with something as trivial as the preparation of hot chocolate. You all are awesome.

Now, make my working weekend brighter by leaving your thoughts!

Bound to Him

Chapter 47

In what seemed like the blink-of-an-eye, Hermione found herself being gently shaken awake on the morning of January first.

"Up and at, 'em, pumpkin-bear," her father smiled. "Mum's got breakfast on the table."

"Mmkay," she mumbled, pushing up from the mattress. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, yawned, and then blinked rapidly at the amount of sunlight streaming in the window. "What time is it?"

Sam smirked as he stepped back to the door. "A little before noon."

"What?" Hermione launched out of bed and ran a hand through her messy hair. "Why did you let me sleep so long?"

He shrugged as he grabbed hold of her door. "Your mother and I have only been up a few hours ourselves, and you looked too peaceful to disturb. Seeing as your professor will be here soon, though, we thought it would be a good idea for you to be fed and dressed."

As the door shut behind him, the witch hurried over to the small wardrobe where she had stored her clothes. Grabbing a pair of jeans, a blouse, and some underwear, she quickly changed out of her pajamas and began stuffing her belongings into her travel bag. It was only after she had everything packed that she contemplated the look that been on her father's face when he emphasized that she be dressed.

With a frown, she slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder and rushed down the old staircase. Depositing her bag by the front door, she moved into the kitchen.

"Good morning, dear," Jean smiled, looking up from the table. "If you need the loo, you'll have to wait a moment. Your father's in –"

"You told him, didn't you?" Hermione whispered harshly.

"Darling –"

"You told him that I…" her voice squeaked and then dropped in tone as she spoke rapidly, "…that I have feelings for Professor Snape."

Her mother sighed and set down her coffee mug. "Hermione, I don't keep secrets from him – not when they're important, and not when they're about you."

"But what if he does something?" the girl protested.

Jean shook her head sympathetically. "He won't. He's just concerned about his little girl, and he was just as distressed whenever you went to the Burrow or London with your friends. He doesn't want to see you grow up, and more importantly, he doesn't want to see you get hurt."

The witch took in a deep breath and slumped against the counter. "Professor Snape isn't going to hurt me."

"No, I don't think he would," the woman agreed, leaning back in her chair. "But that doesn't change anything. He's still your father, and it's been his job to protect you since the moment we discovered we were going to be parents. It scares him that he has no ability to keep you safe from anything in your world, and he doesn't like having to relinquish his role to someone else."

Feeling properly shamed, Hermione folded her arms against her stomach and dropped her gaze to the stone floor. At the sound of the bathroom door squeaking open a moment later, she looked behind her to the mudroom. When her father appeared in the kitchen, she quickly stepped over to him and threw her arms around his neck.

"I love you, Dad."

Samuel briefly donned an expression of surprise, but recovered after a few seconds. Wrapping his arms around his daughter, he placed a kiss on her head. "I love you, too."

After squeezing him tighter, the girl released her hold on her father and then headed into the lavatory. When she was finished, she returned to the kitchen and pulled out the chair beside her mother. She had just finished piling French toast and bacon onto her plate when there came a knock on the front door.

Her father immediately pushed his chair out from the table and strode toward the sitting room. Hermione made an effort to follow him, but halted when her mother cleared her throat and grabbed her hand.

"Eat your breakfast."

"But, Mum –"

"Eat," the woman repeated.

The witch huffed, but begrudgingly picked up her fork. "You said he wasn't going to do anything."

"And he isn't," she replied as she took a sip of her coffee. "Now, eat."

Hermione cast an anxious look toward the kitchen door before loading up her fork. When nearly five minutes had passed without either man stepping into the room, she groaned and glanced at her mother again. "What do you think they're doing?"

"Hmmm," Jean mumbled casually as she sipped her coffee, "I would suspect they're having a discussion –"

"About what?" she interrupted with wide eyes.

"Settle down, Hermione," the woman sighed. "There are some maintenance concerns regarding the cottage that we wanted his input on before we do anything, and the professor mentioned he would be bringing funds. I'm sure that required a conversation."

The girl let out a small breath of relief and took another bite of her breakfast. "Are you sure that's all they're discussing?"

"Well," she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, "I suppose your father could be attempting to appear as intimidating as possible."

"Mum!" the witch hissed, launching out of her chair and spinning toward the door. She only made it half a step before the door was pushed open, and she found herself face-to-face with her Potions professor. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she immediately felt her cheeks flush as her momentum nearly caused her to collide with him.

Snape raised one eyebrow as he eyed her with amusement. "Granger."

"Se-sir," she stammered, blinking and taking a step back from him.

"Were you finished with your…breakfast?" he smirked, glancing at the small clock on the kitchen wall that clearly displayed it was past midday.

Hermione cleared her throat and nodded. "Yes, I –"

"No, she's not," Jean interrupted, rising from the table. "Can I offer you a plate, Professor?"

"There is no need to trouble yourself," he shook his head and stepped out of the way as Sam returned to the table.

"It isn't a bother at all," the woman smiled as she moved past him toward the cupboard that held the dishes. "In fact, I insist you join us."

Severus opened his mouth to protest, but resigned himself to silence when she pointed to the table.

"Sit." When he did as instructed, Jean smiled to herself and set an empty plate in front of him. "If you think I'm about to let you escort my baby girl all the way to Scotland without putting any food in your stomach, you best think again."

Hermione groaned in embarrassment and hid her eyes as she attempted to make it through the rest of her meal. After a minute or two, the shame faded into curiosity, and she subtly glanced at the wizard sitting beside her. At seeing the sullen expression on his face as he speared a bite of French toast, she choked back a laugh and promptly choked on her own mouthful of food.

"Hermione, are you alright?"

The witch nodded as she coughed, and then blushed scarlet when she noticed that all three adults were staring at her in concern. After taking a quick sip of her orange juice, she cleared her throat and attempted a brief smile. "I'm fine."

"Are you quite certain, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, raising one eyebrow as he noted how she was rubbing her sternum and grimacing.

As she glanced up at him with wide eyes, a grin broke out on her face and she nodded emphatically. "I'm certain."

When he grunted and seemed to return his attention back to his plate, she chewed on her lip and proceeded to do the same. Her eyes happened to catch sight of the telling smirk on her mother's face, however, and they hardened into a cautioning glare until the woman looked away and sighed good-naturedly.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

An hour or so later found Hermione sniffling – as a result of both the cold air and the tearful goodbyes she had just given – as she followed closely behind the wizard into the woods. When she glanced behind her and could no longer see the cottage, much less her waving parents, she shuffled a few extra steps and slipped her arm through his.

"Thank you," she murmured, resting her head against his shoulder as they walked.

Severus cleared his throat and shifted his hold on his broom to prevent it from accidentally poking her. "I apologize that I could not allow you more time with your family, but starting late this evening, I must begin preparing the Wolfsbane or risk Lupin attempting to eat another student."

The witch snorted in spite of her horrible memories of third year and tightened her grip on his arm. "It's perfectly alright. I never actually expected to see them, so I am more than content to have spent ten days with them."

"I might believe you," he sneered softly as he assisted her over a large patch of icy, uneven ground, "if it were not for the tear tracks freezing to your face."

Hermione quickly rubbed her face with her gloved hand and then flashed him a nervous smile. "Sorry. It's still hard to leave knowing that it's highly likely that I'll never see them again. But I understand completely that it was time to go…and…well…I really did miss you."

The man looked down at her suddenly; his shock causing him to forget the first half of her statement. "What?"

"Well, I mean, I've pretty much seen you every day for the past four and a half months," she explained quietly, "and even when I don't see you, I generally know you're there… so it was just strange, I guess, not having you nearby. That, and I was worried about you."

Severus cleared his throat and frowned as he glanced back at the terrain in front of them.

"Did you have a decent holiday?" she asked a few seconds later.

Knowing full well she was probing to see if he had been further injured, he took in a deep breath and nodded. "There was a dreadfully boring party at the Malfoys followed by an even more dreadful staff celebration, which concluded in an evening drinking session with Minerva. The rest of the week was spent in meetings and catching up with my teaching duties."

Hermione smirked as she looked up at him. "You know, I used to think that you and Professor McGonagall disliked each other."

"Alert the Prophet," he sneered, "the infallible intellect of Hermione Granger has been proven faulty."

The witch rolled her eyes and leaned against him. "With the way the two of you behave in front of the students, can you blame me?"

"I suppose you're right," he sighed as they came to the edge of the trees. "No one ever wrote it in a textbook, so you couldn't possibly have known."

She huffed bitterly and pushed away from him. Spotting the telltale signs of a smirk on his face, she immediately scooped up a handful of snow and threw it in his direction. He stopped abruptly as it hit him squarely between the shoulder blades, and the girl instantly regretted doing it. She winced as he slowly began turning around and opened her mouth to fumble her way through an apology.

"Severus, I'm really sorry...erm… I don't know what I was – Ohhhhh!"

Hermione gave a startled cry when the boughs of the tree she stood beneath dumped their entire snow load on her head. She jumped about, attempting to shake snow out of her coat before more of it went down the back of her shirt.

"I trust we're quite finished with that venture?" he queried, leaning casually against his broomstick.

"Mmm-hmmm," she nodded, whimpering as she scooped an entire handful of melting snow from her neck. "That wasn't fair."

"There are many things I am known for being, Granger," he sighed as he moved out into the clearing, "but being fair isn't one of them."

She shivered slightly as cold drips of water trickled down her bare back, but blew out a confident breath as she followed him. "You have your moments."

"Hardly," he scoffed quietly. Adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he turned back to face her and then gestured to her head. "Is it manageable for you to tie back that mane? I have no wish to be blinded mid-flight."

The witch sighed and began digging through her coat pockets for a hair binder. Upon finding one, she held onto it with her teeth while gathering the curly locks spilling out from beneath her winter cap and quickly working them into a thick plait. When she finished fixing her hair, she shook out her arms and cleared her throat. "What were you and my dad discussing when you first arrived?"

He glanced at her curiously and then casually rolled his shoulders. "Upkeep."

Hermione raised one eyebrow. "Upkeep?"

"The cottage had been in my grandmother's family for quite some time, and stood uninhabited after she died in 1925 until I discovered it fifteen years ago. I updated what I had time and money to do then, but there are still a number of things that need improvement. Is that sufficient enough of an explanation for you?"

She nodded and then gave a relieved smile, which caused him to narrow his eyes in consideration.

"Is there a particular reason for thinking something else may have been the topic of discussion?"

The girl shook her head quickly. "No, not at all. Just curiosity."

"Granger," he pressed.

Hermione cleared her throat and gestured to the broom he was holding. "Are we about ready to leave, then?"

The wizard eyed her critically for several seconds before mounting the broomstick. "Would it be at all possible for you to face forward?"

"But I liked the other way," she blurted. She flushed a deep shade of crimson as soon as she realized how it sounded, and then glanced away from his penetrating gaze. "It reduced the motion sickness."

"For a witch, it is highly ridiculous the degree to which you hate heights."

"Not heights, but the moving really, really fast at said heights," she stammered. "And being able to see everything beneath you, feeling like you could fall at any moment. It was slightly better with Buckbeak, when there was actually something substantial beneath me. I practically had to keep my eyelids glued shut with the thestral last year – though I suppose it might be better now – but with a broom… yeah, I really hate it."

He sighed and then held out his hand to help steady her as she climbed onto the broom. As she adopted the same position she had ten days ago – with her limbs wrapped around his midsection and her head tucked into his shoulder – he grunted uncomfortably and shook his head. "We're going to have to work on conquering your fears of flying."

She made an unhappy groan and squeezed him tighter as he smoothly kicked off from the ground. "Why?"

"Because the day may come where you need to be able to command a broom with confidence," he grumbled, attempting to ignore the effect that the vanilla scent of her shampoo was having on his thoughts. "Honestly, witch, how is that you managed you pass flying lessons?"

"Madam Hooch grades on participation," Hermione whispered, burying her nose deeper into the folds of his cloak and smiling at the subtle smell of herbs. She then turned to rest her cheek against his chest and glanced up at his chin. "And I very pointedly did not eat before those lessons after I had to make a few impromptu runs to the loo to empty my stomach."

Vomit. Severus raised one eyebrow as he steered them higher. Vomit would be a safe enough topic to consider, wouldn't it? Keep any lecherous thoughts at bay –

"You're rather good at flying," she smiled.

You didn't hear that. Ignore her. Don't think about anything more than flying or –

"I don't mind it with you because I know you won't let me fall," she mumbled beneath her breath as she closed her eyes and relaxed.

He chanced a glance out of the corner of his eye at the girl nestled into his chest and then swallowed hesitantly. Fuck. Think about vomit, you twit.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

A few hours later, the pair spiraled into the sitting room of the Slytherin Head's quarters. The wizard set her bag on the end of the sofa and cast aside his winter cloak before sending the portkey back to its hiding spot amongst the top shelf of books.

Severus then sighed and wiped at his face. "There is not likely to be anyone in the Gryffindor common room since supper is about to be served, so you may use the Floo to return to your dormitory if you wish."

The girl swallowed hesitantly and watched as he dropped into the leather armchair, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the back of the chair. She glanced about nervously as she slowly pulled her gloves off and stuffed them in the pocket of her coat. Rubbing the back of her neck, she shifted her weight and stared at the fireplace for a few seconds.

She briefly considered dropping her bag off in her room and then heading down to the Great Hall, but dismissed that notion with a sigh. Her mother had industriously seen to the task of feeding her, and so Hermione had practically eaten more in the past week and a half than she had during all of the last term. There was also the fact that she really did not want to leave his quarters. As unbelievable as it sounded, she liked spending time with the cantankerous wizard. She liked having real conversations with him; she liked knowing that he was capable of smiling; and she honestly did like kissing him.

A blush crept onto her cheeks as she glanced towards his unmoving form. In her mind, she kept seeing the shocked expression that had been on the man's face when she kissed him in the cottage. It probably had been a blessing in disguise that he had returned to the castle instead of spending the holiday with her family. Even with him hundreds of miles away, though, she had every now and then found herself pondering whether or not he would have actually kissed her back had she not pulled away so soon.

The conversation with her mother regarding the possibility of feelings had only made things worse in that regard. She had only meant to say it in the hopes that it would give her mother time to come to terms with the idea if the war were actually to end favorably for them. As her vacation progressed, however, she had started contemplating if there could actually be something more that she felt for him or if she was just experiencing the "Knight-in-Shining-Armor" complex that her mother had mentioned.

But as she stood in front of him now, she wondered if it really mattered in the grand scheme of things. They were to be bound together for life – however short that may be – so did it really make a difference why she cared for him? If life was to be chaotic, violent, and difficult, wouldn't it make sense to seek out brief bouts of mutual enjoyment and pleasure wherever it was possible?

With her cheeks flushing an even deeper hue of red, she swallowed back her hesitation and quietly moved towards his chair. Tentatively, she touched his shoulder and perched lightly on his lap.

"Granger," he said warningly, flashing open his eyes, "what are you doing?"

Hermione ducked her head and briefly flicked her gaze to his face. "Well, I don't want to go back to my room yet, and I'm not yet hungry."

"And that explains your being on my lap how?"

"Well, I already spent the afternoon here, didn't I?" she smiled shyly before leaning into him. When she attempted to kiss him, however, he stopped her by placing two fingers on her lips.

"Granger," he spoke in a low voice. "You do not have to do this."

"I know I don't have to," she whispered, shifting her face to rest her cheek against his hand. "But I want to… and my name's Hermione."

"Gra-," he sighed loudly upon seeing her pointed stare. "Hermione, we should not –"

The witch let out a loud sigh and slumped her shoulders. "Every other girl can snog her boyfriend whenever she chooses."

Snape's eyes widened suddenly and hesitantly pulled his hand away. "Are you referring to me as your boyfriend?"

"Erm, well, no," she stammered, touching the end of her braid. "That doesn't quite suit the situation at all, does it?"

When he raised his eyebrows in exasperated confirmation, she gave half a laugh and dropped her attention to one of the buttons on his frock coat.

"What about 'significant other'?"

Severus snorted under his breath, but when he saw a disappointed glimmer in her eyes, he shrugged. "I suppose that may be acceptable."

The girl snapped her gaze to his face and let a small hopeful smile back onto her face. "So as your significant other, is it also acceptable for me to kiss you?"

When he said nothing, she let out a huff and picked at the button in frustration. "Is that how it's going to be then? Always about obligation and never about desire?"

He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes as he spoke carefully. "Hermione, other women can…ask their partner to stop at any time. Because of the binding curse… you cannot."

"I know," Hermione nodded, flattening the palm of her hand against his chest. "And I'm okay with that. I like… I like the way you make me feel."

The wizard's breath caught in his throat when he took in her candid gaze. After half a minute's pause, he placed his hand against the side of her face and stroked her warm cheek. Straightening somewhat in his chair, he reached with his other hand to remove her winter cap. As his gaze flickered between her eyes and her mouth, he gradually leaned forward and caught her lips.

The girl smiled against his mouth and slid her arms around his neck as she returned the kiss. When they finally pulled apart, she giggled softly and ran the tip of her tongue between her lips.

Snape smirked, sliding his hand to the base of her head and pulling her face closer to his. He pressed his lips to hers and then gently caught her bottom lip with his teeth. As she gasped at the new sensation, he kissed her open mouth. The witch let her eyelids flutter shut as they kissed, and she moaned involuntarily when his tongue slid along hers.

"You're good at this, too," she stammered breathlessly when they separated a minute or so later.

He shook his head slightly and snorted as he pulled the binder out of her hair. "Oh, because you have the expertise to judge it objectively."

Hermione gave a cock-eyed grin as he shook her hair loose from its braid. When he slid his fingers across her scalp, she closed her eyes and relaxed against his chest. She placed a soft kiss on his lips and then glanced up at him shyly. "But I can still judge subjectively, can't I?"

"If you must," he sighed, capturing her mouth once more. When she began tugging erratically at the buttons on her winter coat, he pulled away from her long enough to assist her in its removal.

"This one, too," she whispered with a tug on his frock coat. "Too warm."

Severus glanced at her in amusement, but did as she requested. As the article of woolen clothing fell to the floor, he wrapped one arm about her waist and cupped her cheek with the other hand. "This is what you want?"

She dragged her gaze from his lips to his eyes and then nodded slowly.

"Because I can stop now," he whispered, watching her face for any signs of hesitance. "If we go much farther, I cannot guarantee –"

The witch silenced him by pressing her lips to his. She drew back only far enough to whisper against his cheek. "I don't want to stop. I want this. Please?"

Desire flared through his veins as he gripped her hair and all but devoured her mouth. A few minutes later, she tugged away and braced her hands against the back of the chair as she shifted her position so that she was now straddling his lap. As she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against his arousal, he groaned and grabbed hold of her waist.

Placing a kiss to the base of her throat, he smirked at the shiver it produced and then raised one eyebrow. "Do you also wish to suffer through the same clumsy groping that every other girl is forced to experience?"

Hermione raked her teeth over her bottom lip and then flicked her eyes up to his. "You could skip the clumsy part."

"As you wish," he whispered, pulling the hem of her blouse out from the waistband of her jeans. As his mouth found hers once more, his hands cupped her bum before moving under her shirt and slowly drifting upwards along her bare back. By the time he had reached her bra, she was panting against his lips fisting her hands in his soft hair.

The wizard left her mouth and trailed a path down her neck at the same time he began unbuttoning her blouse. She gasped when he simultaneously nipped at her collarbone and pressed his palm against her breast. When she could think again, she shrugged out of her shirt and waited somewhat impatiently as he removed her bra. He found her mouth again and kissed her hungrily, swallowing her moans as he circled his thumbs over her nipples.

The girl slid her hands down from his shoulders to grasp the collar of his shirt. Eventually, the need to feel his skin against her heated flesh became unbearable, and she clumsily began pushing the buttons of his shirt through their holes. When she had completed the task, she wrapped one arm around his neck and pulled herself against him.

Groaning softly, Severus slipped his hands out from between their torsos and placed one at the back of her head and the other behind her thighs. In one smooth motion, he stood from the chair and carried her into the bedroom. Upon reaching the bed, he perched on the edge of the mattress and set her feet upon the floor. As she stood between his knees, she continued kissing him while he began unfastening her jeans and tugging them down her legs. She pulled away from him long enough to step out of them and pull off her socks and shoes before straddling him once again.

Once she removed his shirt the rest of the way and tossed it aside, he sank back against the mattress, pulling her down on top of him. They continued kissing for several minutes before Hermione shifted slightly and rubbed against his arousal as a result.

"Fuck!" Snape hissed, suddenly launching into a seated position and nearly causing them to knock heads.

Her heart pounding, the witch tried to gain control of her thoughts as he leaned away from her. "What? What's wrong?"

Grumbling beneath his breath, he stretched his long arms to yank open the drawer of the nightstand and dig around until his hand enclosed upon a vial of the salmon-colored contraceptive. After shoving the drawer shut, he held it out to her. "Before we completely forget ourselves, you should take this."

Nodding, the girl quickly tossed back the contents and immediately re-sought his lips.

With a pained groan, the wizard yanked his head back and grimaced as he ran his tongue over his teeth. He grabbed the empty flask from her hand and stared at it in disgust. "That is positively vile."

"I told you it tasted like death," she giggled.

He raised one eyebrow in agreement. "I thought for certain you must have been exaggerating a bit."

She shook her head as he banished the flask back to his lab, and then quietly squeaked when he rolled her onto her back.

"I am sorry, Hermione," he said softly, brushing curls out of her face as he stared down at her.

"For the taste?" she asked, confused.

He snickered in spite of himself and then shook his head. "For everything."

The witch shrugged in response and offered him a shy smile. "It's not your fault."

He swallowed in uncertainty and closed his eyes. At the feel of her fingertips on his jaw, he opened his eyes and took in the look of concern in her eyes. The desire to rid her of that absurd sentiment had him suddenly assailing her already swollen lips. With one of his hands pinned beneath her shoulder blades, he allowed the other one to slowly drift from the side of her face to cup her breast, and then to gently trace a random, spiraling path down the length of her torso and over the swell of her hip. When he leisurely stroked two long fingers over the center of her damp knickers, the corners of his mouth turned up into a smirk as she gasped loudly and arched into his hand.

"Oh, God," she whimpered, slamming her eyes shut as he kissed along her throat and continued caressing her through the cotton fabric.

When his lips reached her clavicle, he paused and glanced up at her. "Hermione."

"Hmmm?" she mumbled, fluttering open her eyelids.

"Do you trust me?"

Nodding slowly, she swallowed and touched his face again. "I trust you."

With a smile, the wizard placed a kiss to the inside of her palm before lowering his lips to her chest. After closing his mouth around one of her nipples, he slipped his hand beneath the waistband of her knickers and began gently moving against her.

Hermione closed her eyes as he continued his ministrations, half-mortified by the volume of noises tumbling out of her seemingly on their own accord, but enjoying the feeling far too much to fully care. As the pressure built and burned in her center, she dug her fingers into his shoulders and desperately began pushing back against his hand. And when he shifted his attention to her other breast, she whimpered loudly and clenched her legs about his arm. Feeling as though she could either explode or burst into tears at any given second, she turned her face and pressed her forehead into the green bedcovers.

"Please," she whispered, thrusting upwards. "Severus, please!"

Detaching himself from her nipple, he looked up to see her face contorted in agonized pleasure and felt himself grow even harder as a result. With a groan, he leaned forward, placing more weight behind the movement of his fingers, and gently ran his teeth over a spot on her neck where he had found she was particularly sensitive.

Almost immediately, the witch came apart beneath him with a muffled cry. After her body had fully collapsed onto the bed, he withdrew his hand from her knickers and placed a much softer kiss on her flushed forehead. At the action, she glanced up at him with glazed eyes and gave him a smile as she slowly touched her hand to her head. Her chest was heaving as she tried to communicate. "That was…"

He arched one eyebrow in silent question.

"…I don't know," she stammered breathlessly and shook her head. "I can't actually think."

Snape snorted softly as he rose back onto his haunches, slipping his arm out from beneath her. "Alert the Prophet."

The girl giggled quietly and breathed deeply as she propped herself up on her elbows. For a brief second she was concerned that he was leaving, but when she saw that he was only standing to remove his trousers, she took in a relieved breath and slowly moved to the center of the bed and rested her head against the pillows. When the mattress depressed slightly and he appeared above her, she quirked her lips into a smirk and raised her pelvis to aid in his removal of her underwear. "We go again?"

The man chuckled at the phrase that had so often punctuated their personal apparition, Occlumency, and defense lessons. Nodding as he settled in the cradle of her hips, he lowered his lips to hers and whispered, "We go again."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Grimacing slightly, Severus ran a hand over his face and opened his eyes. He had managed a half hour or so of sleep, but it appeared that was the extent of the rest his mind would allow him. Blowing out a low breath, he glanced at the witch beside him who had been fast asleep for some time. He smirked lightly at the chaotic state of her frizzy curls, but acknowledged the fact that had he been the one being thrust repeatedly into the mattress his hair would have fared no better.

He swallowed hesitantly at the realization that he had not been as gentle with her as he had on previous occasions, but he reassured himself with the knowledge that she had appeared to tolerate it just fine. More than fine actually, if he were basing his judgment solely upon her physical reactions to him. He had meant to keep better control of himself during the encounter, but the moment his name spilled forth from her lips in such a manner he had been consumed by the need to hear it again. And he had.

Snape narrowed his eyes in contemplation as he considered the effect the witch was beginning to have on him. He had purposely stayed away from her the past week and a half to give him the time and space to mentally distance himself, and yet within six hours of being in her presence again, he was allowing them to take yet another step down a slippery slope. They were going to have to tread even more carefully because of it. In addition to the concerns he supposed that one would have in a teacher-student relationship, there was also the bond's magic to consider.

He took in a deep breath as the girl turned over in her sleep, and the sheet attempting to cover her fell away enough for him to catch a glimpse of his name scarred over her spine. Frowning, he pushed himself up to pull the bedcovers over her bare shoulder, and then brushed a lock of hair out of her face. Thankfully, she did not wake, and he sat back, resting his elbows on his knees and his face against his interlocked fingers.

"No matter how you see her, she isn't just your student any more. She's your partner, whether you like it or not."

He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that Minerva was wholly correct when she had earlier criticized his handling of the situation, and he also knew that she had been correct in stating that Hermione was dealing with the situation remarkably well. Unbelievably well. Only four and a half months had passed since the binding, and yet she was not only coming to him willingly because she had to, but because she wanted to. Severus closed his eyes with the knowledge that he would never understand how she could be so forgiving of his transgressions against her. He certainly had never been so tolerant with any of the individuals who had caused him harm.

The soft chimes of the clock in the sitting room caught his attention, and with a sigh, he realized that it was time to begin brewing. He slid out of bed gently so as not to wake her and wandlessly accio-ed his clothing and wand to him. He froze in the midst of pulling on his boots when he heard the rustle of the sheets, but when she simply pulled the pillow to her more tightly and continued sleeping, he quickly finished tying the laces and then moved toward the door. He glanced toward the bed once more before pulling the door shut behind him and descending the staircase into his office.

He had truly meant it when he had told her that he would do whatever he could to make things easier for her. And that meant that if she wanted to pretend that they were in an actual relationship, then he would allow her that. Within reason, of course, which meant that he would just have to tighten the reigns regarding his feelings toward her. He did not wish to cause her further suffering because he had allowed his thoughts to drift somewhere inappropriate.

As he lifted his large pewter cauldron onto the stand, he groaned upon recognizing that not six hours after giving Samuel Granger his word that he would take care of his daughter, he had taken the witch into his bed. As a juvenile voice in the back of his head argued that he had successfully taken care of her twice, Snape scowled and lit the flame beneath the cauldron. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he beat down that particular connotation of the phrase, and then moved about gathering necessary supplies. He was not certain as to why the man had felt it necessary to take him aside and had spoken to him as he had about protecting the girl, but Severus trusted that Hermione knew enough to keep certain details hidden from her parents. Had she told them anything too risky, he knew that the Muggle would not have been anywhere near as courteous to him as he had been.

Removing the modified bubble charm from the herb rack, he magically transported a bundle of dried aconite into the sizeable stone mortar that he reserved only for the preparation of Lupin's Wolfsbane potion. As he carefully began crushing it into a fine dust, he allowed his mind to consider the horrible scenario of having to explain the exact nature of their binding to the girl's parents. He doubted they would ever take it well if they knew that he had been required to rape their daughter and had used his magic to painfully bind her to him in a Dark Age ritual that was originally utilized as a means of declaring ownership during the enslavement or forced marriage of women to wealthy wizards.

"Fucking hell," Snape whispered, dropping the stone pestle and staring at the wall as a mental connection was made. For months he had been racking his brain trying to figure out just how in the hell it was possible for the witch to have been granted entrance to his quarters. He had not ever given her unrestricted access, and both Minerva and Albus had assured him that neither they nor the castle itself had either.

It was in plain sight the entire fucking time! The wizard kicked the corner of his worktable as he realized the answer lie in the binding itself. He had bound her to him using his magic. It was his magic that needed to be replenished within her body to keep the bond strong. He had known the entire time that the bond had been forged in his magical signature, but he had never pieced it together that she was walking around bearing not only her own magical mark, but his as well. The castle was recognizing that his magic flowed within her and granted her entrance to his rooms because of it. He had been the one to give her permission the moment he had thrust his mark upon her.

Severus sighed loudly and gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white. He had done everything he could think of to keep Hermione from thinking that she could ever be considered his property, and the bloody school was reacting to her as though she were actually bonded to him in servitude.

As though she were my personal house-elf. He snarled as he picked up the pestle once more and began grinding the wolfsbane with more force than was needed. He was not going to tell her that. Honesty be damned, she did not need to know all of the implications of the bond.

When he had completed crushing the herbs, he sprinkled half of the powder into the boiling water and started measuring out the previously-prepared ingredients that needed to be added for the first brewing period. As he did, he continued thinking about his sudden revelation and wondering if perhaps it could explain more than just her sudden ability to move unchecked through his quarters. It had been nagging at him for a week and a half that Hermione had mentioned Lily in response to his explanation for not involving Dumbledore in the protection of her parents. It had seemed conspicuous that she would have nearly blurted it out only a few days after he revealed it to Lupin. She had been in his room when he had returned from the summoning and she had known that he had been called. It was entirely plausible that she had been eavesdropping from the stairwell - why, he did not know – but it was the most likely explanation for her knowing that he held Albus partially responsible for failing to keep the Potter family safe.

Snape probably would have been more irritated regarding her spying if it had not been for the realization that, if she had done so, it meant the Muffliato he cast had had no effect on her hearing the conversation. And if that were true, then what else could be affected by it?

"Severus?"

The wizard turned suddenly to see the girl in question stepping off of the bottom step and pausing behind his desk to rub her eyes with the back of her hand. She had pulled her hair back into rather voluminous ponytail and had dressed in a pair of pajamas that she had retrieved from her travel bag. She yawned softly as she glanced at the steam rising from the cauldron and then frowned.

"What time is it?"

He cleared his throat as he tossed in the ginger root. "I imagine it would be nearing nine by now. There is a clock on the wall should you find the need to verify."

Hermione smirked and rubbed her shoulder. "Sorry. I think my brain is still half asleep."

Grunting, he turned back to his work table and began splitting open kola nuts. When he noticed her creeping toward the cauldron out of the corner of his eye, he shook his head. "That's close enough, Granger. I cannot guarantee that the fumes have completely lost their toxicity."

"Oh," she murmured, rising up on her tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the murky brown liquid. "How long does it take before it's not?"

He returned to his work with a shrug. "Generally it requires a half-hour to an hour to dissipate to a safe enough level for inhalation. I would give it at least another forty minutes before you go standing over it."

"But you were standing over it a minute ago," she pointed out.

The man turned slightly and fixed her with a trying look. "I've been working with Wolfsbane since you were in nappies. I think I've managed enough of a tolerance that periodic two-second exposures are not going to kill me. You, on the other hand, should not press your luck."

She sighed glumly, but nodded and turned away from it. As she approached the wooden chair, it transfigured into her usual armchair seemingly of its own volition. With a sly look over her shoulder, she witnessed him slipping his wand back into his sleeve and picking up the large knife once more. Deciding that he probably would not appreciate her drawing attention to his efforts, the witch simply climbed into the chair, grimacing only briefly at the ache beginning to form in her muscles. Tucking her feet underneath her, she silently watched him work for several minutes before her thoughts began to drift to another potion to which he had apparently built a tolerance.

"Do you think we should revisit the Veritaserum lesson soon?" she asked quietly, picking at the edge of the chair.

Severus looked up from where he was dropping the diced kola nuts into the brew. As he stepped back to the table, he raised one eyebrow. "Are you comfortable with that?"

Hermione shrugged and folded her arms. "I think so, yes. Unless there's something else I could possibly say on accident that will –"

"No," he muttered. "I will not lose my temper as I did with you before."

She took in a deep breath and leaned against the corner of the chair. "Then I am fine with it."

"Then we may proceed with it tomorrow afternoon during the second brewing period," the wizard responded, turning back to the worktable and pouring a number of deceased scarab beetles into a smaller mortar.

"Do you really have to monitor this for eight hours?" she frowned.

He nodded as he began crushing the desiccated insects. "At that point, the concoction will be stable enough to set under stasis for six or so hours. The other half of the wolfsbane will then be added along with the second grouping of ingredients, and I shall be required to monitor it again for the same length of time. It will then have to be filtered to remove any remaining plant material to prevent him from poisoning himself with too concentrated a dose. While the main stock will remain under stasis for the week, each individual draught will need to simmer three hours in a silver-plated cauldron before being ingested. "

"That's insane," she gasped, shaking her head. "How can you possibly do that every month?"

"As I am doing now, I generally brew it on the week-end," Snape responded casually. "There are fewer distractions."

Hermione took in a deep breath and uncrossed her arms. "Have you ever been… called away in the midst of brewing?"

He gave a sigh and nodded. "It has occurred once. It was not at a point to remain stable under stasis, so it had to be pitched and started afresh. Luckily, it was only halfway through the first session so that only four hours were wasted on an unusable concoction and not an entire day."

"There must be an easier method somehow," she murmured pensively.

The professor snorted. "Develop one, Granger, and your fame will rival Potter's in this generation and completely obliterate his for the rest of Wizarding civilization."

She gave a small smile and shook her head. "If it's not written in a textbook, how would I ever accomplish it? Besides, you're the one with a Mastery in Potions. You develop one."

"I have enough lives on my conscience," he muttered in a low voice. "I do not need any more."

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him distribute the crushed scarabs evenly over the surface of the bubbling liquid. "What do you mean?"

Severus swallowed apprehensively as he set the mortar back upon the table and then rested both hands on the table. "Do you have any idea of the length of time it took to develop this method of preparation? Or how many volunteers lost their lives due to aconite poisoning? And I use the term 'volunteer' very loosely for there were several bouts of Ministry-enforced programs of forced participation. Or how many researchers were bitten, maimed, or killed when there was too little of the poison in the attempt? Or how many unhinged persons have exploited its existence as nothing more than a means to rid the world of lycanthropy one victim at a time and will advertise their services to desperate individuals?"

"I never thought of it that way," she whispered sadly, dropping her gaze to her lap.

He nodded in agreement and then pulled forth a chair as he sat near enough the cauldron to see over the edge.

Pulling her knees up to her chest, Hermione rested her chin atop her knees and considered the implications of his statements. The Wolfsbane potion was heralded as something next to a miracle, but she now wondered if perhaps it had killed more people than it would ever aid. The production process was so complex and so easily corrupted that the chances of a successful potion resulting from it were slim. There was no doubt either that the population of werewolves greatly outnumbered the population of witches and wizards with the skills and patience capable of producing the brew, and the former was increasing at a much greater rate than the latter.

And really it was more of a treatment than a cure anyway. She blew out a deep breath and scowled, realizing that sometimes the solution held more consequences than did the problem. It now made perfect sense to her as to why the werewolf population in general was afraid to accept the Order's offer of providing them with the potion. Why would they trust in it now when it had spelled death for so many of their brethren?

Nearly a quarter of an hour passed with her thoughts centered on the morbid subject before she began to ponder a question that had been bothering her for an entire fortnight. Glancing at the man sitting several feet away from her, she chewed on her lip as she debated whether or not he would know the answer. Finally deciding that it could not hurt to ask, she breathed deeply and then cleared her throat.

"Severus?"

The wizard turned his head just enough to acknowledge that he was giving her his attention.

"Do you know anything about thestrals?"

He narrowed his eyes in confused surprise as he hesitantly responded in the affirmative. "I know something about them, yes. However, if you are suddenly interested in adopting one, Hagrid would be a more appropriate consultant."

When she did not elaborate on her interest immediately, he gave one cautious glance toward the cauldron before turning to fully face her. At seeing the nervous expression on her face, he arched an eyebrow. "What is it you wish to know, Granger?"

Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet his gaze and she took another deep breath before answering. "Why can I see them?"