When they landed, Severus tucked the time-turner back into Minerva's desk and shut the drawer.
"Rowland will no longer be passed out in the hospital wing. We should find him," Hermione said.
"We need to find Rowland. We stopped the blast under the stands, he is no longer passed out in the hospital wing, right?" Hermione said.
Severus chewed his lower lip. "He's probably helping with cleanup. We wait—let him feel safe before we push for a confession."
"Confession? You sound certain he's guilty. From what I could tell, Rowland is a victim of Blackmail."
"I know he is your friend-"
"All we really know is that Rowland didn't blow up the stands." Hermione was interrupted by the sound of the large door swinging into the office. "We can just-"
Minerva entered, halting as Severus and Hermione stepped apart. Smirking, she strolled to her desk. "Well, I understand why the two of you would want to keep things quiet, but really, could you find no other private office?"
Hermione blushed, but Severus saved her from answering. "We were looking for you, we have information regarding tonight's attack."
He quickly explained to Minerva what they had witnessed.
"Severus, I was right next to you when the blast—" Minerva stopped herself, her eyes glancing toward her desk. "Never mind, I do not wish to know."
She hung her coat and shooed Severus out of her way so she could sit comfortable at her desk. "Lucas Rowland has a good record, the Ministry sent me his file. A sterling reputation, glowing letters of recommendation from every professor and employer."
"There must be something on him, otherwise his teaching position wouldn't be in jeopardy." Severus stated.
Hermione shook her head. "How bad could it be if Rowland still wouldn't back down? It could just be really embarrassing."
"Hermione, they called him a traitor." Severus posed. "Does that not sound like he's in with a bad crowd?"
"It could mean a "blood traitor'." Hermione replied.
"I thought you said he was muggleborn?"
Hermione had no answer to this.
Minerva broke the tension. "Hermione is right, we need to gather more evidence. Lucas has been through an ordeal like the rest of us. I will call him to my office tomorrow."
"I want to talk to him myself. The two of us, I mean, gently." Hermione said. "Let's give him a chance to tell us."
Minerva took a deep breath and exhaled. "Fine, but at least wait until the morning."
Hermione nodded.
"For now, he's still in danger." Severus shot Hermione a smug, yet slightly apologetic smirk. "Minerva, will you ask Kingsley to assign an Auror for extra security? Let's keep it clandestine, so as not to spook him."
"Severus," Hermione lamented, "innocent until proven guilty!"
Severus did not look abashed. "If he's guilty then we need to keep an eye, and if he's innocent, then he's safer this way."
They bid Minerva good evening and exited the office.
"You're proud of that one, aren't you?" Hermione said as they descended the stone steps.
"A bit." Severus conceded, glancing sideways to her. "Did I upset you?"
"Of course not, you're just following your instincts. Besides, the Head of Security outranks me—it's ultimately your call."
As they reached the bottom of the steps, a booming voice echoed through the corridor. "Professor Granger!"
Hermione pressed her lips together - she knew exactly who was jogging up to them.
Viktor was breathless, but relieved. "I haf been looking for you all over the castle. Are you hurt?"
The brawny Bulgarian clasped her shoulders, scanning her for injuries, his brow furrowed. She could practically feel the annoyance ripple off of Severus and he stood silent like a reaper behind her.
Oblivious to this animosity, Viktor turned to Severus and patted him on the shoulder sincerely. "I am relieved to see that you, too, haf not been squashed beneath the Quidditch pitch, Professor Snape."
Severus nodded politely, his face an impenetrable stone.
"We're alright, thank you for being concerned." She covered for them. "We weren't near the explosion."
"I am grateful to hear it. I am sad to say that I am leaving to go back to Bulgaria now." Viktor admitted. "May I haf a private vord vith you before I go?"
Hermione hesitated; she didn't want to be rude, but she would be if it meant protecting the lovely bubble she and Severus were in.
Severus released her from the decision. "I will wait for you at my quarters, Hermione ."
Her stomach fluttered - he had never used her given name in public before. Not to mention the blatant innuendo. She should be annoyed at the obvious marking of territory, but her mind was already imagining all the things they could do back at his quarters.
Viktor, hardly noticing what Severus has said, looked frightfully concerned. "I do not like you here, under such threats, so exposed. Why don't you come and stay with my family in Bulgaria? My family already adores you! You are quite a legend, you know."
Hermione knew immediately that she did not want to move in with Victor's family in Bulgaria, as sweet as it was. But the idea of leaving Hogwarts made her feel immediately lonely, a visceral feeling in her gut, a hollowness. Living somewhere else? Leaving Severus now, now when she'd finally broken his walls down? It was simply out of the question.
"Wow, Viktor, thank you. That is incredibly generous, but I'm sure I am safest at Hogwarts."
"That cannot be true. You vere attacked."
She found it hard to argue with that.
Viktor straightened, puffing his chest. "Then I vill be your bodyguard. Ve vill find vork that makes you happy, or you don't haf to vork at all."
To emphasize his point, Viktor took her hands in his. "I vill not let anyone harm you, Hermione."
Hermione cringed internally and released her hand. "Really, Viktor, I need to stay. Someone or some group is threatening muggleborns, threatening Hogwarts , and I intend to do something about it." She took pity on his face, once again riddled with worry.
"You always vere very brave Hermione." Viktor conceded, smiling sadly at her.
She couldn't stand to see him so sad. "Besides, don't you have Quidditch matches and things all over Europe?"
"Haven't you heard? I am retired, Hermione." He seemed to recover and find his humor. "Why do you think I am reffing a children's game?"
"Retired? But you're only 26!" Hermione said, looking him up and down. He seemed sturdy as ever, and she hadn't noticed any limping.
"Quidditch is a young man's game. I haf injuries. I am not a young mountain cat anymore." He grinned and shook his head. "Do not be sad for me, Hermoninny. I alvays knew it vould be this vay, that is why I haf given every gold coin I ever earned to my Mother to hold for me. She is a very frugal voman."
Hermione didn't know what to say. His career was over at 26, it hardly seemed fair.
"Did I also mention that she is a very good cook, especially to pretty houseguests? Or I could stay here? Perhaps Rolanda will retire soon?"
"She's 45." Hermione sighed. "But really, Viktor, you know, I can't-"
"It is alright, Hermione. I know the truth."
"You do?"
"You are in love with old sour face Snape, yes?" His tone was playful, and flooded her with relief.
She nodded, smiling despite herself. "Yes. I…find myself quite unavailable." Hermione flushed deeper at the admission.
"Vell then, Hermoninny," Viktor began, masking his disappointment with a deep, theatrical sigh, "if you vill not allow me to die heroically protecting you, then I vill leave you vith this."
He handed her a small bracelet of red and white string. "This is a Martenitsa . Bulgarian, for good luck."
Hermione rubbed her finger on the delicate pattern. "A good luck charm? Isn't that a bit muggle for you?"
Viktor scoffed good-naturedly. "Your government thinks the only magic that matters comes from a vand. Keep it on you, Hermione. I vill help me sleep better."
Hermione nodded, staring at the red and white threads of the bracelet.
Then Viktor hesitated, his voice dropping into something more intimate. "I do not know what to say in English, you will have to excuse me. тялото ми не познаваше нито миг спокойствие, откакто за последен път бях в теб."
"What does that mean?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes.
Viktor stepped back from her, his grin teasing. "It means, 'Stay safe, My Hermo-ninny, and let me know if you get tired of Old Sour Face, yes?'"
"Stay safe, Viktor." She gave him a wry smile and left him, knowing she would never tire of her 'old sour face'.
Hermione turned the corner, putting the bracelet Viktor gave her into her coat pocket. A familiar scent-spices and herbs-told her she wasn't alone.
"Eavesdropping, Severus?"
"One must be hiding to eavesdrop. I am not hiding." Severus stepped from the shadows.
"But you were listening." she teased, folding her arms and offering him a playful smile.
"I'm not sorry."
Hermione looked around before boldly taking his hand. "You handled the ex-boyfriend situation beautifully, by the way."
"I almost fed him to the Grindylows," he said darkly. But his eyes were soft and not ill-natured. "I don't have much experience with these feelings, but I trust you."
A warmth bloomed in her chest at his confession. Trust, from Severus Snape, who guarded his heart like a fortress, was no small thing.
His expression darkened before her eyes. "He may be right, you know. It isn't safe here."
"You want me to go stay with Viktor in Bulgaria?" She said, teasing.
"Of course not," he snapped. "But your safety is more important than what I want."
"I am not leaving Hogwarts." Her declaration was firm, and she saw him visibly relax, if only slightly. Then with mischief in her gaze, she threw her arms around his neck and whispered, "Besides, if I ever leave you for an international quidditch star, he won't be retired."
His teeth grazed her neck, and she laughed, covering her mouth and glancing about.
A low growl rumbled in his throat, his grip tightening at her waist. "Do not toy with me, witch, or there will be consequences."
"I can't wait."
She was rewarded with a flicker of something dark, something wicked, in his gaze before he stepped back.
Hermione lowered her voice, wary of any passersby. "Can we go back to yours?"
A moment stretched between them. Then, in an instant, they were outside his door.
Severus moved unhurriedly, hanging up their coats with deliberate ease. Hermione slipped off her shoes, feeling uncharacteristically awkward as she stood in his living room, facing the modest kitchen where he busied himself.
Rolling up the sleeves of his crisp white button-down, he loosened the collar with an air of casual intimacy, as if allowing her to witness this small, private moment was something sacred. Hermione believed it must be a rare occurrence for Severus to allow himself to be watched.
"Are you hungry?" he asked, his back still to her.
"No." Hermione said, removing her sweater so that she was down to a simple cotton shirt.
"Thirsty?" Severus went to the cupboard for a glass.
"No, thank you."
At that, he finally stilled. The air thickened, charged with something unspoken.
"Severus, I'm just happy to be alone with you."
His eyes snapped to her, and just like that, the tension that had been building between them snapped.
Severus was on her in a breath, lips claiming hers, hands mapping her shoulders, her back, anchoring her to him. She met him eagerly, pressing her hand to his jaw. She liked the way he held her body against his-cradling her like she was a rare and precious thing. The swooping sensation in her middle left her breathless.
Severus broke away, his lips red, his breathing uneven. "If we do this—" he slowed his cadence, searching her face, "—I do not want to play games, or flirt with you-"
She seized the moment, pressing a slow kiss just beneath his jaw. "But I do so love it when you flirt with me."
He tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I must know if you truly mean this, Hermione. If you are seeking some casual dalliance…I do not think I could do that."
She nearly laughed, as if she could desire anyone but him. There were no choices. Only him.
"If it's not completely obvious by now, then I apologize." She said, "I love you, Severus."
His shoulders sagged with relief as he pressed his forehead to hers.
She held him tight. "It is a terrifying thing to be known, but I want you to know every part of me—the messy, the difficult, the frightening. I want to know all of yours, too."
When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter. "I am in love with you. I am yours, for as long as you will have me."
"In that case," Hermione kissed him again, this time deeper, slower, running her tongue softly against his lips, "I'll have you now."
Severus stepped back and slipped his shirt off over his head, not bothering to unbutton it.
Hermione's attention swept over his lean, sculpted frame, his firm chest and arms, the defined muscles of his abdomen, the sharp angles of his obliques, which disappeared beneath the waist of his trousers. Damn, when did you start working out?
A flush rose to his cheeks, only adding to the eroticism of the moment. "Three years ago." Severus ran a hand through his hair, mumbling. "Had to find a new hobby after…"
Hermione wondered at her luck, following a thin trail of dark, silky hair that ran downward toward everything she desired. She could get used to this view.
"You've got to stop thinking things like that, Hermione," Severus warned, and pulled her down with him onto the couch. She landed in his lap, her body deliciously aligned with the hardening evidence of his desire.
"Never." Wasting no time, she pulled her sweater over her head, the cool dungeon air prickling her skin as she pressed her bare torso against his.
Hermione groaned aloud at the sensation of his body so close, her ass in his warm lap as she straddled him. She ran her fingers down his torso, lowering to the heat between them, running her fingers over the fabric gently. "Is this alright?"
His response was a sharp nip of his teeth at her throat. Then his mouth was on her breast, drawing a gasp from her lips as his hand palmed the other, fingers teasing, stroking, coaxing heat to the surface.
"Gods, you learn quickly." Hermione panted, arching into his touch and circled her hips against his.
Severus swiped his tongue over the bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth, hungry for her. Gods, she loved this side of him, where he seemed to lose himself in her. He groaned softly as she rubbed him, and snapped his eyes down when she went for his belt.
Severus gripped her breast harder, leaving red trails from his fingers. "Too much?"
"No, I want your hands all over me." Her skin felt hot as she tilted her hips, rubbing her clitoris on his hardness, enjoying her delicious ride.
His smirk was sinful as he flicked his tongue over her lips. "As you wish."
With a flicker of magic, their remaining clothes vanished.
Hermione's gasp echoed through the room before she laughed in delight. "Terrifying. And yet, the applications…"
"Oh, I have thought of them," Severus mused, his eyes already fixed downwards, his fingers tracing an achingly slow path along her thigh. "Are you cold?"
"No."
She took his length in her hand, savoring the weight of him, the heat, the evidence of his need. He was more than ready, his desire thick and swollen.
"Look what you do to me, Professor Granger," he purred, dipping his fingers between her thighs, teasing her with feather-light strokes.
Hermione gasped, nodding frantically, urging him on. She reached for him, wrapping her fingers around his length, stroking him with reverent hunger, even as she slid herself over his hand. It should have been too much—too intimate, too soon—but it wasn't. It was perfect. To touch him. To be touched by him.
The way he looked at her, dark eyes full of awe and wicked intent, melted her. She lost herself to the slow, deliberate glide of his fingers.
A strangled moan tore from her throat as she threw her head forward, resting against his shoulder. She forgot everything but the feel of him as his fingers sank deeper into her, stretching, filling.
Severus turned his hand inside her, rubbing his knuckles against her walls. Hermione whined, pressing her cheek to his forehead, the heat between them unbearable.
"Look at me, Hermione," he murmured, voice low and coaxing. "I love when you look at me."
Hermione leaned back with her hands on his knees, baring herself to him as he stroked her languidly. His hungry eyes melted her. and she thought she must be in the peak of pleasure. His hands, his voice, his growing cock; she reached for him again.
"No." Severus' silky voice cut in, full of control and promise. "Wait your turn."
Her breath hitched. He picked up the pace, fingers moving with exquisite precision. He watched her reaction to every flick of his fingertips, each swipe of his thumb on her clitoris. A sharp moan escaped her lips, and she nearly smacked him for the smug satisfaction curling at his mouth.
Then, to her astonishment, Severus laughed—a deep, unguarded sound that sent chills down her spine.
It was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard.
His hands encircled her hips, guiding her as she straddled him. She settled herself lightly on the tip of his cock, teasing him with small, shallow movements. She watched the flicker of restraint in his expression, the way his breath quickened with every minuscule descent.
Then, she sank fully onto him. A sharp gasp wrenched from her throat as she stilled, her body stretching to accommodate him. The burn was exquisite, the fullness overwhelming. She panted against his mouth, adjusting, reveling in the unbearable closeness.
Severus patiently allowed her to adjust to him, tracing the lines of her legs with his fingers. "You are so beautiful, Hermione."
She blushed, averting her gaze. Her breasts hovered inches from his face, her scars exposed, her body completely bare to him. And yet, he beheld her as though she were something sacred, something perfect.
To be perfect to him—that meant everything.
Severus suddenly captured her wrists in his large hands and pulled her flush against him, stealing her leverage. A strangled moan left her lips as she clutched at his shoulders, her body trembling from the effort to hold herself up.
"I mean it, Hermione," he murmured, his voice soft but unyielding. "There is nothing—and no one—I could want more."
"Severus—" she began, but he thrust up into her, burying his cock deep and cutting her off with a sharp cry.
His chuckle in her ear only stimulated her further. "That's right, come closer, dear." He earned a shudder of satisfaction from her as he pulled her hips toward his, entering her again.
He took control then, guiding her hips in slow, calculated movements, allowing himself to slide in and out of her in long, deliberate strokes. The ease with which he manipulated her body, the sheer power in his measured restraint, left her utterly undone.
Hermione whimpered as Severus hooked his arms under her legs and—Merlin—lifted her, still joined, as he stood.
Disoriented, she clung to him as he carried her across the room. The shift in angle sent waves of need through her, and she writhed against him, seeking more of him, desperate for friction.
Her back hit the mattress, and he hovered above her, his eyes roaming over her exposed and breathless form.
Severus captured her foot in his hand, bringing it to his face, pressing a slow, reverent kiss to the soft arch. Hermione squirmed at the sensation, but he held on tighter, kissing it again this time allowing his warm tongue to stroke her.
Hermione squealed but Severus only continued his slow path down her calf, his mouth worshipping every inch of her skin. When he finally settled between her thighs, eyes dark with intent, she knew—she was wholly, irrevocably his.
He pressed his lips against her slick folds, dragging his tongue and feasting on her.
She ran her fingers through his hair and held on tight as he sucked on the folds surrounding her clitoris, rolling the soft bud on his tongue.
His mouth became demanding, as if the last vestiges of his restraint were slipping away.
Hermione threw her head back, moaning breathlessly as he flicked the swollen peak with practiced precision. "Right there—just a little higher—"
A whisper of a thought slithered into her consciousness. His tongue sucked around her central bundle of nerves, careful not to apply too much pressure. Here?
Down, towards the left…a little more . Her mind answered him faithfully, face screwing up as he followed her instructions perfectly.
There, faster. The edges of her vision blurred. "Oh, Severus, I—I'm going to—"
Yes, Hermione. His voice slithered through her consciousness, dark, desperate, reverent. Please, I beg you—come on my tongue.
She shattered with a whimper, thighs trembling as she clenched her walls around his fingers, her devastating release consuming her in rhythmic, pulsing bursts. She shook, her hands in his silky hair, and she curled her body upward.
Severus groaned into her heat, drawing out every last tremor, his tongue coaxing her through the aftershocks even as she writhed above him, oversensitive and utterly spent.
Only when she lay boneless against the sheets did he finally withdraw, licking his lips as though savoring her. He stood, fisting his cock just once before settling over her, pressing the weight of his body between her thighs, stretching them open.
"It's been a long time since I-" he began.
She kissed him deeply. "I know, darling."
He flushed, of course she did. "I may not last."
"There's always the morning." She kissed his jaw and ear.
Severus smiled and tilted her face up to his, and in one slow, fluid motion, he slid back inside her.
A strangled moan left her as she received him, still riding the last small crest of her orgasm. She felt a wild, victorious feeling as he pressed his full length into her, the aching stretch of him almost too much, and somehow not nearly enough. More.
Hermione opened her eyes to find him watching her, even as his face contorted with every thrust. It was intensely erotic—to witness his unravelling.
His frustrated growl sent another shiver rolling through her. "How am I supposed to last when you think such utterly depraved things?"
Then he thrust harder, deeper, dragging a gasp from her lips and making her toes curl. Her limp body was trembling with the sensation of him. "Severus—"
"Shh, darling." His voice dropped to a dark, velvety whisper, and he framed her face with his hands. "Let me have you."
Heating under his command, she surrendered to him as he thrust harder, keeping his strong rhythm until he succumbed to the joy of her. He kissed her messily, his tongue sliding into her mouth and battling hers, full of passion and desperation. As he fell seemingly forever, downward into her body, she rolled her hips and welcomed his descent.
Severus remained wrapped in her, his hand still clutched in her hair, while she savored the weight of him on her.
He rolled off of her and slid the blankets down so she could climb inside. He wrapped her in his arms, her cheek resting on his shoulder. "May I ask how you are feeling?"
She let out a satisfied sigh. "I feel wonderful."
"Stay the night, Hermione."
A request or a command, she didn't care. "Way ahead of you."
Nestled against his chest, her leg slung over his hips, Hermione's eyes fluttered closed.
"I am much older than you, Hermione," Severus said suddenly, his voice pensive.
At her exasperated sigh, he added, "You are young, vibrant, and full of promise. You could have anything in this life. I do not wish to ever hold you back."
"You are the most remarkable wizard I have ever met," she murmured sleepily. "I think we'll be alright."
Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. "There is no need to flatter me. You have met both Dumbledore and Voldemort."
She yawned and threw her leg over his hip, both to claim him and end the debate. "I said what I said."
In seconds, she succumbed to her exhaustion. Severus, however, remained awake, whispering silent vows to the woman who had stolen his heart.