A Well-Brewed Plot

by Alisanne

Summary:

Hermione finally gets her husband to take some rest.

Title: A Well-Brewed Plot
Author: alisanne
Pairing/Characters: Severus Snape/Hermione Granger.
Challenge: Originally written as part of the hermionebigbang Phase one challenge and is based on artwork by mystkyten which can be seen HERE.
Summary: Hermione finally gets her husband to take some rest.
Genre: Romance
Rating: R
Warnings: Schmoop and, well, het. ;)
Word Count: 1010
Beta: sevfan
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

~

A Well-Brewed Plot

~

Hermione stood at the door watching Severus for several minutes. He looked exhausted. Normally, her husband would be plotting something in his Slytherin mind, he had a brain that wouldn’t quit. But recently, he’d been...almost sedate.

This new job supplying potions for St Mungo’s is going to kill him. She pursed her lips, pondering ways to get him to rest. “You look tired, Severus,” she finally said. “Why are you still up?”

Severus’ head, buried as it had been in his book, popped up, and he glared at her. “Because someone asked that I make her some Bruise-Healing Paste, and that requires concentration on my part.”

“I didn’t mean tonight,” she huffed, entering his office. “I know St Mungo’s orders take precedence. You could have waited until the weekend to make mine. I won’t need it until next week, anyway.”

“As it happens, I have other plans for the weekend,” Severus informed her silkily. “Relaxing plans. Plans that do not involve mucking about my potions lab.”

Hermione crossed her arms under her breasts, blushing as Severus’ eyes swept over her nightgown-clad form. “The Paste needs to simmer for two hours,” she reminded him, voice going husky. “Surely you could find something else to occupy your time until then, Mr. Snape?”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “Indeed, Mrs. Snape, you are correct. What did you have in mind?”

“Perhaps we need a bit of practice for the weekend,” she suggested, trailing her hand across his desk. “And then maybe a nap? I wouldn’t want to...wear you out.”

Severus was up and around the desk in a flash, his hands circling her waist to haul her close. “Wear me out?” he murmured, lips next to her cheek. “My dear, while I admit you are much younger than I, such a thing shall never happen. If need be, I am a competent Potions master, after all, not that I can imagine ever having to rely on a potion with you, Hermione.”

His thumb, circling her nipple, made her breath hitch. Hermione leaned into him. “Severus,” she moaned.

“We have an hour and fifty-two minutes left,” he whispered, leaning over and lifting her up into his arms. “Time enough for practice.”

~

Hermione woke slowly, a smile curving her lips. She stretched, her arm reaching for Severus, her eyes snapping open when she encountered cool sheets and no warm body. Bloody stubborn man.

Pressing her nose to his pillow, she inhaled his scent before sitting up and Summoning her night and dressing gowns.

“Sev--” She paused at his door, sighing as she saw him, his head resting on top of the desk, his face slack with sleep. The Bruise-Healing Paste had been decanted into vials which were lined up on the shelf. Another potion was bubbling in a copper cauldron in the corner. One whiff confirmed it was the Burn-Healing Salve she had seen on the order that had arrived from the hospital earlier that day.

Smiling gently, she walked around the back of the desk and leaned over him. When pressing a kiss to his cheek didn’t wake him, she Summoned a blanket, placing it over him. He had evidently planned a long night of brewing, probably so that he could get ahead and not have to worry over the weekend.

Glancing once again at the cauldron, a slow smile spread over her face. Perhaps she could find a way to get him his rest yet.

~

Severus yawned, then groaned. His neck was stiff, but despite that, he felt...well rested. He sat bolt upright, another pained moan coming from his throat.

Focussing on the cauldron in the corner, his eyes narrowed in consternation. It was empty!

“I finished it.” He blinked at Hermione, who sailed through the door looking fresh and, sadly, fully dressed. “The Burn-Healing Salve you were making,” she clarified, placing a cup of tea in front of him. “You were pretty tired, so I took care of it.”

“There was no need--”

“Don’t be silly.” She brushed a kiss over his forehead. “We’re partners in every way that counts. Why wouldn’t I help you? It’s a simple formula.”

“I cannot believe I slept through brewing,” Severus muttered.

Turning away, she shrugged. “Happens to the best of us. Luckily, I woke up in time. Here, have some Muscle-Relaxation Potion. It should help your neck.”

He swallowed the potion, sighing as it took effect. His brain kicking in, Severus frowned. He clearly remembered setting his wand to alarm. Something or someone had to have interfered with that. He eyed her suspiciously. “I have never slept through brewing a potion,” he repeated.

“Severus.” Her scent, as always, calmed him. “Don’t worry about it. It’s done.” She smiled. “Now, didn’t you mention something about...plans for the weekend?”

Tilting his head, Severus stared at her for a long moment before pulling her into his lap and beginning to slowly undo the buttons on her dress. “As it appears that all my potions have been miraculously brewed,” he purred, “my business plans are finished. My personal plans, however, have just begun.”

She giggled, the cheerful sounds dissolving to moans as he quickly and skilfully reduced her to a writhing heap with fingers and mouth and tongue.

By the time he lowered her onto the carpet behind his desk, she was clearly ready. Their coupling was urgent and very satisfying, and, minutes later, as they lay panting on the magically cushioned floor, he wrapped one of her curls around his finger and smiled.

Obviously she had put him under a charmed sleep, but he was hardly about to argue. It’d worked, he felt very well rested, and was now ready for a weekend of debauchery, well, as close to debauchery as he came. Still, there was the little matter of revenge; after all, she couldn’t be allowed to out Slytherin a Slytherin. Smirking, he relaxed, and, for the first time in weeks, began to plot.

~