Chapter 1: You Seemed Stressed
He looked up and saw his apprentice kneeling before him. Most would look upon this face and see the typical air of confidence she so regularly exuded, justly or not. However after 7 years as her professor and almost two as her potions mentor, there was no fooling him. It was more than apparent to Severus Snape that this young woman had something on her mind and that she had come to some sort of conclusion, albeit reluctantly. Determination shown through her eyes, yet still her shaky hands gave away her nervousness.
"Miss Granger, what are you doing?"
"You seem stressed, sir.”
"How exactly does that answer my question, Miss Granger?" He looked down his abnormally large nose at the young woman still kneeling at his feet. This was an odd position indeed. A turn of events that both piqued his interest and confused him. While Hermione was never, or rarely ever, rude nor overtly disobedient during their lessons, she had a strong backbone and an easily sparked temper that has led to more than a few spats between the two. Leaving two stubborn and passionately intelligent beings in one room for too long, it was bound to get hot awfully quick. This behaviour, however, was something different altogether. Subservient, dare he think, submissive.
"I suppose it doesn't, sir." A lovely shade of pink stretched across her face and travelled down the length of her slender neck. He waited a moment for her to continue, though it seemed she was not going to.
"Need I ask again?"
"No, sir." Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath to muster the courage to press on. "I want to," flushed with embarrassment, Hermione all but groaned at the thought that she actively put herself into this position. Literally. "I mean, what I mean to say is… I was hoping I could, that is say-"
"Spit it out, Miss Granger. You know how I feel about incomprehensible drivel." Not one to be rendered speechless throughout her school years, Hermione had found herself stammering in front of her mentor on more than one occasion since moving in, and this both pleased and annoyed him to no end. Pleased that he was capable of shutting up the insufferable know-it-all, sometimes with a mere look of questioning disapproval, and at what the awkward sputtering might indicate. Annoyed because, well idiocracy truly did irk him and his Miss Granger was not an idiot, even though her mouth might sometimes forget this fact in his presence.
"I want to help... relieve... that stress.” She finished with a meek “sir.”
Feeling like he was hit in the gut with a weak stunning spell, Severus was at a loss. She couldn’t possibly mean what he thought she meant. Could she? “Well you still cannot make a decent cup of tea worth a-”
“You are the only one who doesn’t like my tea!” Hermione spoke a bit too loudly and far too quickly considering she interrupted the man she was meant to be seducing. His left eyebrow arched so high the peak was partially covered by the hair that perpetually fell into his face. “Sir.” Nice recovery.
“Then how exactly do you plan on relieving my stress, Miss Granger?” His smirk deepened as he saw the blush spread to her chest and that was when he realized her state of dress. State of undress, rather. She was in nothing more than a thin camisole top and pajama shorts rolled up to an indecent length. It was dark in the room, but there was enough firelight to see her nipples hardening before his eyes and he felt his cock harden almost instantly, pushing against the fabric of his trousers.
Far too disconcerted to speak the words - because somehow saying what she wanted to do to him was worse than actually going through with the act - Hermione tentatively placed her right hand on the inside of his left knee. Her breath became more laboured as her adrenaline kicked in at the mere thought of touching him. Chancing a glance up to his face, looking for any form of encouragement, she was taken aback by the lack of emotion in his eyes. On the brink of pulling back and leaving, one thought stopped her from standing up and walking out. Severus Snape was a very private and closed off man with excellent control of his emotions. It was not that he didn't have emotions, as she had been learning over the last year, it was that he repressed them, hiding them from others at all times. There was not the slightest chance that her hand on the inside of his thigh would not spark any emotion, and if it had been anger or disgust, she would have been thrown from the room quicker than one could say ‘avada kedavra’. She wasn’t though. No, she was still in his private library, on the floor with her knees all but between his feet and her hand resting just above his knee. He was holding something back, and she could only pray this would play out in her favor. So she pushed onward. Keeping her eyes locked on his, Hermione rose up on her knees and increased the pressure of her touch as she allowed her hand to glide up the inside of his thigh. Then she stopped. Her hand was so close to its goal, yet she was not sure how to proceed. If she was being honest, she had not thought this far in advance, having been under the impression that she would have been dismissed prior to this point.
He caught on to her doubt and decided to apply additional pressure to persuade the young woman from the room. It was clear to him that she did not have any idea what she was getting into and most likely regretted her decision. He stood up and looked down, expecting her to rise as well as she always did in an attempt to not allow herself to appear as small in his presence. She did not climb to her feet as he anticipated. Her chest began to rise and fall even more greatly than before, at an accelerated and almost exaggerated rate, but she continued to kneel at his feet, looking up at him with eyes pleading for his approval. The innocence in her face, the want in her eyes, everything about her was calling to him to give in when he knew he should not.
Glad to not be wearing his usual frock, undoing the copious buttons would feel far too intimate, far too similar to the act of undressing even with the remaining layers beneath. No, he was only wearing his black Oxford tucked into his black slacks. He grabbed hold of his belt and stilled momentarily, watching every emotion flash across her face. He undid his belt in swift yet powerful movement, pulling it out from around his waist and allowing the tail to hang toward the ground while he kept hold of the buckle. Hermione simply stared at the belt with eyes wide in unreadable emotion. She glanced back to his waistline, then to the belt again, seemingly caught up in the reality of the moment. Here was his chance, he thought, his chance to push her away from the situation at hand and this preposterous idea completely.
“Well don’t start acting coy now. This is what you wanted, is it not? Or shall I do it myself?”
“Yes, sir. Uh, no. Sir.” Hermione reached up and tried undoing the one button that kept the trousers up on his hips. Unpracticed as she was, it was almost painful to endure but Severus was not one to save anyone from an uncomfortable situation, especially when she was to blame for her unfortunate predicament. She finally had it open and she slowly lowered the zipper, making note of how foreign it felt to do this to someone else.
Hermione placed her hand flat against the cloth covered shaft and pushed up and into his lower abdomen, not really knowing if she was attempting to provide any pleasure or simply taking a moment to explore as she prepared herself for what she was about to do. She could back out. She could stand up, apologize and leave. Severus, being the upstanding gentleman he was, would never make her do anything of this nature and she knew it, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t make the rest of her apprenticeship, and most likely her life, hell for starting something she couldn’t finish. He certainly enjoyed rubbing her face in her failures and this would easily float to the top of the list. Unacceptable. She would never give him such pleasure. Well, she certainly wanted to bring him much pleasure, but in a completely different way and on her terms.
With that she slipped a few fingers into his briefs by his hip bones and dragged the material down so that the only thing covering him was the lowest point of his shirt, and that hardly covered anything at all. Hermione was in awe. She both regretted and applauded her decision tonight for the same reason. He was massive. She didn’t know they came this big, but then again she didn’t exactly have any experience for comparison. Naturally, having been on the run for months with two young men, she stumbled upon an unwanted viewing here and there. Not to mention a time or two in at the Burrow - Fred and George truly had no shame, not that she could blame them, from what she saw. Oh, and the unfortunate times that lead her to knocking before barging into the boy’s dormitory back at school. Poor Neville was humiliated, far more than Hermione. Dean was at least modest enough to look bashful while Seamus always seemed so pleased with himself, though Hermione could not imagine why. Ridiculous schoolboys. That was just it though, wasn’t it? They were boys. This, this was what a man looked like, and while Hermione was more than happy to do whatever she could to please her mentor, there was an ever growing fear that she would not exceed his expectations, as per usual it seemed. This fear continued to grow as she watched something else growing in size as well, as if that should even be possible.
Severus was right about to suggest she leave when the words died in his throat. His eyes opened wide as her tiny hand wrapped around his girth right by the base. What was he thinking, allowing for this to get so far? He got caught up in the moment, something that only seemed to happen in her presence. His actions were meant to intimidate her, discourage her from proceeding. Not actually invite her to take control of his manhood in such a way. He should have known she would never back down from a challenge. Two slow and even pressured strokes gave him the time to collect himself and think about how to move forward. On the verge of formulating a somewhat coherent thought, Severus was ripped from his, admittedly useless, planning when the light caress of a tongue was felt under the tip, right where he was most sensitive. He almost lost himself right then. The thought of taking the back of her head and driving himself into her slammed to the forefront of his mind. The idea of shutting this woman up by giving her mouth something else to do had distracted him more times than he would ever admit, to himself included. He knew it wasn’t only he who had such thoughts, especially in the last year she attended school after the war. Older than any student to have walked the halls of Hogwarts before, the young woman had no right looking as good as she did in that uniform designed for young school girls. It was a problem. He knew half of the Slytherin house would wank to the thought of the Gryffindor Princess on her knees. Only Rowena knew what those sexually repressed Ravenclaws thought of Princess Swot, they probably got off every time she opened her mouth to answer a question.
Then she went and did the unthinkable. Taking in as much of him as she could, she destroyed any chance of leaving. He lost himself in the pleasures of her mouth. At some point his hand migrated to the back of her head and his fingers nestled into her curls and held firm. She was clearly new to this, unseasoned, inexperienced, yet absolutely divine. There was no way around it, he needed more. He needed to be as deep inside of her as physically possible. What little control he thought he had left was stripped from his conscious mind, so his body did the only thing it could. It thrusted. Hard. This poor young woman, kneeling before this man, took everything he thrusted at her. Looking back on this moment later that night, he would feel guilt for taking it too far, for pushing her too much when he knew nothing yet of her experiences nor her capabilities, but in that moment he selfishly thought of nothing more than the heavenly feeling of holding her in place around him and forcing her to take every last drop. If it wasn’t for the small gagging sound coming from below, he would have been consumed by the monumental release. Never had he needed a release so much as he had after living with such a beautiful woman for nearly two years, and never had he honestly thought it would come from anything other than his own hand. That relief was short lived as a twinge of guilt was sparked by the uncomfortable sounds coming from the woman he still held in his hand.
Barely giving himself time to process, he relinquished control of her head, allowed himself to fall from her mouth and told her to leave. An exasperated “what?” was pulled from her gut before she had time to register her own disappointment. If he had to assign a word to the look on her face, it would have been ‘broken’, but as quick as it appeared, it vanished. She schooled her features, rose to her feet with a bit of a wobble in her stiff legs and left with her head down.
What did she expect to happen next? Did she think he would pull her into his arms and cuddle with her as they read in his chair by the fireplace? No, this was better. He took her in, promised to teach her everything he knew, promised to protect her, to keep her safe. Although, that last part was to himself more than anyone else. Six years of protecting the girl led to a heavy weight on his chest whenever he saw her hurt or in immediate danger. He told himself years ago when she approached him that he would do what he could to teach her and protect her, and this is what he was doing. While it burned him to see the look for hurt on her face, he knew it was for the better. He didn’t want to encourage such behaviour from cropping up again.
Chapter 2: May I, Sir?
She couldn’t tell if he heard her or not, she saw no difference in his movements, but knowing how vigilant he was at all times, she could only assume he had indeed sensed her arrival. She paused for a moment, allowing him the time to dismiss her if he chose to. After what she felt was the appropriate amount of time, Hermione pressed farther into the room and rounded the chair as quietly as she could. She knelt before his chair once more, slightly closer than the previous night. She wasn’t sure if she was going about all of this the right way, if there even was a right way. Too late now.
“What are you doing, Miss Granger?”
“Oh, I thought that perhaps-” She scrunched up her face and shook her head slightly at her unease. She wasn’t sure why this was so hard given she had gone through with it yesterday. Perhaps it was his lack of response throughout the ordeal. There was hardly a moan of satisfaction the entire time, simply a deep grunt when she felt his warm release shoot down the back of her throat. She wasn’t sure he enjoyed it. Who’s to say she even did it right? Could one do it wrong? Probably. Best not to ask though.
"Why are you doing this?"
Her head shot up, unaware that she never continued. "It's my job to make your life better. I thought it might help. I thought you would like it.” Her head dropped down again. “That you would find it pleasurable."
"That I would find you pleasurable?" Taunting. He was taunting her. He knew it. She knew it. There was nothing she could do about it.
“Was it not?” Trying very hard not to fidget with her hands knowing it would set him off in a mood dampening fit, she bit her lip anxiously and barely heard a soft groan coming from above.
“Considering the end result, I suppose you could say it was… satisfactory.” Liar.
“Oh.” She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but that stung, even if she didn't fully believe him. Now, once again presented with an opportunity to leave, Hermione needed to steel herself and push forward, keeping her real goal in mind. “May I? Sir?”
“It will take much longer tonight.”
“More time to practice then!” She spoke quickly with almost a hint of hope, until she realized what she said and how she must have sounded to him. Shock hit her in the face and she was absolutely appalled at how pathetic she was at that very moment. How pathetically nerdy and innocent. She basically threw her inexperience in his lap and waited for him to throw it right back at her. “That isn’t what I wanted to say.”
“Oh, really? That sounded exactly like something you would say.” More taunting.
She wasn’t sure what convinced him to do it, but he stood up and began unbuttoning his shirt. Her eyes wide at what that could mean, she was frozen in place as his hands made their way down his shirt.
“Well, Miss Granger? Must I always invite you to begin?”
“Oh! No, sir.” She looked at the waistline of his trousers again and noticed the lack of belt. She unbuttoned them quicker than she had last night and let them fall. Same as yesterday, she dipped her fingers into his briefs and dragged the material down leaving him completely exposed save the open Oxford shirt covering the majority of his torso. The two have done well in respecting the privacy of the other, however there have been a few times over the course of the twenty one months that Hermione had caught sight of her mentor without his shirt, and each time has left her as breathless as the last. While it was clear he does not spend time training like she knew Krum and Oliver did with their quidditch teams, or even Harry and Ron for work as Aurors, he was no less fit and exactly her type.
Not one to indulge in gluttonous behaviour, Severus ate and slept very little, and was always moving about. His arms were large and toned in a way that only carrying crates upon crates of potions up and down flights of stairs could leave a body. Very much her type.
She has never been this close to his bare chest before. Well, save the one time she ran into him leaving the shower, but that time she was too close to see anything. The feeling, however, of his abs beneath her fingertips left her wet and wanting, not to mention distracted for days before he finally snapped her out of it. This evening gave her an opportunity to gaze upon him in all his glory and she lost herself in the sight. Very much her type, indeed. He was tall and lean, his pale skin almost glowing in the firelight, and as her gaze continued south she saw that he was very much ready for her to proceed.
So she did.
Hermione reached out and took hold of the very erect penis and swiped her thumb across the tip. As soon as she placed it in her mouth, she felt strong fingers weave through her hair and push her harder into him, making sure she was taking him deeper. She was hoping she could be a bit more in control. Hermione, Ginny and Luna had a girl’s night a few months ago and she was horrified by the level of detail as they recounted stories of their past experiences. Hermione tried desperately to replace Harry with literally anyone else when Ginny was talking. After some time to process though, she found herself thinking about doing this herself and she had just the prick in mind. She had to look at this logically, like with everything else, she did her research and she applied her findings to the situation at hand. So, she talked to Ginny a few more times, and now she had Snape’s cock firm in her hand. And mouth. What she didn’t plan for was him taking full control.
Yesterday happened so fast she couldn’t quite keep up. He began fucking her face so hard, she could only focus on keeping her jaw relaxed. Her eyes were tearing and all she heard were sounds of herself gagging every few times his cock would hit the back of her throat. He was unrelenting in his pursuit to find his own pleasure, she didn’t know what was happening until it was over. Tonight started out the same way, but Hermione was able to feel it more this time around. Her jaw hurt from having been open so wide. Her eyes were tearing, but she could also feel her nose running too and this made her all the more self-conscious.
Being as short as she was, Hermione was finding it hard to take him as deep as he obviously wanted her to, especially with him angled up as he was. Severus must have noticed this as well, because she felt him pull out of her and without letting go of her hair, he sat down in the chair behind him. This sudden movement pulled her forward a bit and she landed with one hand on the seat between his legs and the other his left hip bone.
This gave her a completely new view of what she had to work with and she flushed at the thought of not really knowing what to do with it all. Her angst must have been written all over her face because the next thing she heard was, “you’re welcome to leave, Miss Granger.”
She shook her head, not trusting her voice to speak. She moved her head in once more and took his cock in her mouth. He must have been giving her time to get used to it again, because his hand was still in her hair but he did not yet take back control of her pace. With this new position, she was able to take him deeper and she found she even enjoyed it more. She liked the feeling of his hard prick filling her throat, not noticing that when deep enough, she couldn’t quite breathe. She allowed her tongue to explore the shaft of his penis, feeling it throb as she pulled away. Before she could get too far, he gripped her hair tight again and pushed her back down. Every once in a while, when she thought he wanted to feel himself particularly deep in her, he would lift his hips up and meet her face with a hard thrust. He held her there for several seconds the first time and a bit of panic arose in her chest when she noticed she couldn’t take in a new breath. He did it again. And again. Each time, he held her in place until he felt her need to breathe. She found rather quickly that she trusted him more than she realized to not take this too far, even though this was clearly more than she thought she was signing up for in the beginning. She found this all to be particularly arousing. Having him take back the control, gave her the opportunity to try out something Luna mentioned. As he moved her face up and down on his cock, she slipped the hand she had placed on the seat palm up and she gently took hold of his balls.
The first true sound of pleasure escaped his throat and her eyes shot up to his. Whether it was the grasp she had on him or the unexpected eye contact, she wasn't sure but something pushed him over the edge and he exploded into her mouth once more.
Like yesterday, there was a moment of silence after his release. Unlike yesterday, he was much lower in his chair, and their new positioning allowed her to feel, still uncomfortable, yet slightly more at ease. She wondered if he felt a shift too, and if, in his case, he felt more vulnerable. She couldn't really imagine him ever feeling vulnerable though.
“Was yesterday the first time you performed such an act, Miss Granger?” She wasn’t sure why he was asking.
She cringed at the question. “Was it very obvious?” Please say no.
“Yes.” She waited for him to continue. Prayed he would follow up with something slightly more comforting than that bludger to the gut, but he never did. “Good night, Miss Granger.”
“Good night, sir.” Hermione walked from the room with tears in her eyes waiting to fall.
Chapter 3: My Knickers, Sir?
He heard his door open and felt her presence shift in front of him. The look on her face was a stark contrast to that which she wore all day. Suffice it to say, he was proud of her yesterday morning when she continued on as though nothing happened. Nothing was exactly what should have happened. He knew that, and while he was satisfied that they were able to move forward as normal, there was a bitter feeling in the center of his chest that he couldn’t quite shake throughout the day. Not knowing why she did what she did, nor how she was comfortable with how it ended. Then last night she came back, he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t surprised. After what he put her through, he thought she wouldn’t try again. After seeing her act as though nothing happened, he thought she moved on. Yet there she was again, on her knees looking as unsure of herself as she did the first night. The sight made his cock twitch in anticipation and he knew he wouldn’t be able to deny her. He tried to keep his memory of seeing her mouth around him out of his mind. He nearly ended lessons early yesterday when he stepped up behind her while she was brewing. The scent of her jasmine shampoo floated up and grabbed his attention when he should have been supervising her progress. He made the mistake of looking down her body and caught sight of her fuckable arse mere centimeters from his cock, thoughts of bending her over the table and sinking balls deep into her delectable body flooded his mind. Today was not much better. She barely looked at him all day, then during their afternoon brew she walked over to the supply closet and was reaching up for an ingredient that was a bit beyond her reach. Her shirt pulled itself out of her jeans, showing enough skin to once again grab his attention. What he wouldn’t have given to grab hold of her waist and run his fingers under her shirt as he held her to his chest. Without thinking about it, he walked over and grabbed the vial off the shelf with ease and lowered it into the small hand of his apprentice. They both stood like that for a moment, both holding onto the same vial, not touching each other yet not wanting to move away. It took every ounce of self control to not grab her. Eventually, right when he was about to speak, she turned so they were face to, well, chest. She whispered a soft ‘thank you, Master’ and returned to her brewing without a second glance. Once again, he pushed it all down, but now, once again, there was nowhere to run. Here she was, a third night in a row, on her knees and looking utterly delicious.
He was as surprised to see her tonight as he had been last night. While he was perhaps not quite as rough, he didn’t allow her time to adjust and he could not imagine it had been very pleasurable for her. He had given it much thought, clearly, and he knew he would not be able to deny her. He also couldn’t continue on as he was. He wanted her to be happy, but he wasn’t certain of her objective and it was because of this that he was guarded.
He continued to gaze upon her, kneeling before him as if she was waiting for his instruction, his approval. Perhaps she was. It was clear she didn’t know much about what she was doing, which begged the question even more. Why was she doing it?
He didn’t feel like playing games tonight, so he stood up, undid his belt and let his pants drop. Thinking it was easier for her, he sat back down in the chair and continued looking at her. Her face was flushed and she was breathing very heavily. Her nipples were once again visible through the thin material of her nightgown and he wanted nothing more than to pinch them, bite them. How easy it would be to lift up her gown and please himself with her in the way he truly desired. The thought made him hard and he heard her breathing hitch when she noticed him grow.
The look he gave her must have been the permission she was waiting on because she crawled over to him and instantly took his length in her mouth. She was hungry and clearly found him to be very satisfying.
She grabbed his cock in her hand and lowered her head toward the base. She pressed her tongue against his balls and licked him up to the tip. He saw as the tip of her tongue flicked against the tip of his dripping penis and when he looked up a bit more he saw that she was staring up at him, watching for his reactions. Apparently she was pleased with herself because she became more confident. He allowed her to carry on as she wanted. Enjoying her newfound confidence, he decided to not guide her in any way but still wanted to touch her. He started with his fingers in her hair as he had the last two nights, occasionally pulling, causing her to moan around him. Slowly his hands wandered down along her neck where he could actually feel his own member filling her throat. The thought of this set him on fire. Keeping his hand around her neck he started thrusting and didn’t stop until he felt his release.
He could see that she was far more pleased with herself tonight than the last two. He saw a passion in her eyes that confused him, still not understanding her motives.
Hermione stood up to leave, but stopped when he spoke. “What are you wearing, Miss Granger?”
This question confused her. “My nightgown, sir. Is there something wrong?”
“What are you wearing underneath?”
“I do not think I could make that question any more clear.” He continued to look at her and saw her face redden, darker than ever before.
“My knickers, sir?”
He began to speak ever so slowly, only to make matters worse for the flustered young woman before him. “Give them to me.”
“Sir?” Her eyes were wide in panic. This was obviously not what she was expecting and he was curious how she would proceed.
“Need I repeat myself, Miss Granger?
Slowly, Hermione lifted up her nightgown only enough to reach into her knickers and began to slowly drag them down her legs. He regretted not asking her to have done so in the beginning and would have to from now on. This was positively the most attractive movement he has ever seen her perform. Blowjob included. Watching her hands glide down her smooth legs in order to follow out his command was astonishingly sexy.
She took a step closer to him and started to reach out to him, knickers in hand. Then she froze. He could see the internal turmoil and so he turned his hand up as if to demand the garment. She stretched her arm out more and placed them delicately in his hand. When she didn’t move her hand away, he could tell she was not thrilled by this turn of events.
He sensed her hesitation and deep embarrassment. “Why are you so uncomfortable, Miss Granger?”
“Oh, um… I suppose I do not understand why.”
“Ah, well allow me to show you. This” he opened up the small, red garment in his hand so that his thumb could stroke across the inside and her face paled “is why.” Her mouth hung open in what could have only been described as terror. She closed her eyes in pure mortification and he almost felt bad. If he wasn’t feeling so great, that is. “No need to feel so bashful. This is exactly what I had hoped I would find.” Her eyes shot up. Through her chagrin, he could see the questions in her eyes. “Another time perhaps, Miss Granger. Have a good night.” She reached out to retrieve her underwear. The only response she received was a quick “no.”
Chapter 4: If You Are Good
Aside from the exchange at the end, which still baffled her, Hermione was very pleased with the results of the night before. She thought she improved significantly, though that was partially due to the freedom he allowed her. Hermione found it incredibly erotic when he took charge, regardless of the situation, so it did not come as a shock that she enjoyed him controlling the pace of her movements. However, she found it rather pleasurable as well when he responded to her, especially when she was calling the shots. It made her feel sexy. Wanted, even. As though she was truly capable of pleasing him. She hoped she would be allowed to again tonight. She was already dripping at the thought of having him, and with that she was reminded of last night. As long as he doesn’t ask for her panties again, she would be fine.
Hermione walked into the room and as with every night before, she knelt at his feet but her gaze remained down. She wasn’t really sure where to look while she waited. Looking into his eyes seemed a little intense, but she also doesn’t want her attention to wander around the room. Other than appearing disinterested, there was the very real possibility that she might become distracted by one of the many books lining the walls.
“Stand up.” Her eyes shot up to his, she was startled by the sudden command, but stood up nonetheless. He held out his hand expectantly. She looked at it questioningly. Slowly she reached out to touch him, but paused when he spoke again. “As sweet as that gesture might be, Miss Granger, that isn’t what I wanted.”
Of course, it wasn’t. Why would he ever want to hold her hand? What on earth was she thinking?
Gulping down the panic that threatened to rise up again, she brought her hands up to her hips again, thanking any deity bored enough to be watching that she chose a gown again. She slowly lowered them down her legs once more and this time she noticed how he hardened at the sight of her stripping the small piece of clothing. Understood.
She saw his eyes shine a bit more when his thumb felt the slick inside of her undergarments and she was hopeful that this was, for whatever reason, pleasing to him. “Proceed.”
She could see him bulging in his trousers and wondered if that was uncomfortable. She thought about going a bit slower than yesterday. She knelt down close to the chair and placed her hands on his knees. She began to caress the inside of his legs and chanced a look in his direction. She wanted to know what he liked, she wanted to know how to please him. She continued moving her hands over his legs, sometimes grazing across the material covering his sack, yet avoiding his hardness. She wanted to run her hands across his chest, climb into his lap and suck on his neck while she ground herself into him, but that was a leap from what they had been doing and he made no indication that he would want to progress in such a manner.
She unlinked his belt and he leaned forward to allow her to pull it out. As he did so, she thought he might kiss her, her eyes even dipped down in the direction of his mouth. He must have noticed this as she saw a smirk form on his lips. She closed her eyes briefly to push away the hurt of unspoken rejection and continued on. She unbuttoned his pants and when he lifted up his hips she pulled down everything that would get in her way.
There he was, sporting the hardest erection she had seen since she started this three nights ago. She was pleased, to say the least. She began playing with his balls in her left hand while she wiped the droplet forming with her right thumb. She felt him shudder at the touch. She loved when he actually reacted to her. It was so unnerving not really knowing what he was feeling. Continuing to play with him in her left hand, she leaned in and licked the next droplet with the tip of her tongue. She felt him suppress a groan and she looked up at him. Naturally she wanted to ask why he refused to react to her, but she knew he would not appreciate that. She gave him a few good pumps while lowering herself down. Her tongue reached out and flicked teasingly against his heavy balls before she began making her way back up slowly. Then she caught sight of her knickers in his hand and was again bewildered by this. As if to send her into a state of shock, she watched him lift her damp knickers to his face and he breathed them in before letting out a sigh in pure satisfaction. Her eyes bulged at the action and he chuckled at her expression. She has so rarely heard him laugh, it warmed her heart and nearly distracted her from what he had done seconds ago. “You smell positively divine.” Her mouth hung open at the comment, her hands frozen, no longer moving around him. He lifted his hand to her chin and closed her mouth. “Perhaps tomorrow I will tell you why this is so arousing. Or,” he ran his thumb across her bottom lip and she felt a pool of arousal in her abdomen. “If you are good, I can show you.”
She wasn’t sure what exactly he meant, but she knew she wanted to be good. She always wanted to be good for him, so she nodded, somewhat frantically and leaned in to continue. She found that she was overwhelmed with arousal and that changed her experience as well. She was so in tune with every moment, every touch. She took him as much as she could, feeling his pulsing member fill every bit of her throat. She held him there, knowing how much he enjoyed that. Then, she pulled her head up until she felt the contours of his cockhead come to the forefront of her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the tip and felt him shudder beneath her fingertips. Then she plunged down again, engulfing his entire length in her mouth. She pulled up, this time sucking as she did so and heard him hiss softly. She paused, not sure if he was happy or not with her, so she flicked her eyes up at him, saw his own filled with pure lust and continued when he dug his hand into her hair. She went back down, this time with more speed, once again enjoying the feel of him entering her throat. She bobbed up and down quicker than she had on her own before, trying to emulate how he encouraged her to move the first two nights. His breathing became a little heavier and she found she couldn’t stop. Not until he came, not until she knew that she had pleased him. Her knees stung, her throat and jaw were tired and sore, but there was no way that she was letting up until she heard that grunt of satisfaction and felt his juices flow down her throat.
Chapter 5: What Would You Like, Ms Granger?
Tonight went the same as the time before. Severus instructed Hermione to remove her undergarment, which she did with less trepidation than the night prior. She proceeded to pleasure him with increasing skill and confidence. As with anything else, she learned quickly. When turning to leave the room, she paused but only momentarily. He allowed her a few steps before his curiosity got the better of him. “Was there something else, Miss Granger?
“Oh, no, sir… Well,” she looked as unsure of herself as the first night she knelt before him. “I suppose I was wondering if-”
“I was wondering if I was good.” She seemed upset with herself for asking. After seeing the look of his face, she spoke up to clarify her inquiry. “Yesterday you said that you would tell me if I was good. That perhaps you would show me-” she cut herself off with a grimace. Talking about what they were doing was still so very uncomfortable for her, it amused him greatly. “Why it is that you, that you have been-”. Her eyes shot up to the ceiling. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought she was attempting to stop herself from tearing up, but that is very un-Granger-like. Was she waiting for him to finish the sentence for her? That was never going to happen, nor would he proceed without her wrapping up the subject matter in a beautiful blush-colored bow. “Oh bother. Why do you ask for my undergarments? And why does i- uh, why does it please you when they are, uh, as they are?” That was probably as close as it would get. He was rather pleased, but was contemplating how he wanted to answer. How best to show her. “I think I will go to bed now.”
She made it all the way to the door when he finally told her to come stand by his chair. "What would you like, Miss Granger?"
"What do you mean, sir? You asked me to stay." She hoped she didn’t sound like she was giving him lip. She was genuinely unaware of the meaning behind his question. Apparently he understood this as well, because he was not fazed by her response.
"This was the fifth night in a row you came to me and still you ask for nor seek anything in return. What do you want?"
"You needn't do anything in return, sir.” She took another step in his direction. “I want to do this for you." She meant it, he could tell she did, but he wasn’t sure why nor to what extent.
"Does that mean you do not wish for me to return the favor, or will you simply not ask for it?" If it was possible, she blushed a deeper red than he had ever seen her before. "What do you want me to do, Miss Granger?"
"I- I don't know." She didn’t realize how close she was until she felt his large hand on her leg, his slightly calloused fingers tickling the back of her knee from between her legs. She gasped at the contact and her breathing quickened to a pace reminiscent of how one would breathe after a quick sprint; fast, shallow, uneven. He was barely touching her as his hand drifted upward. His eyes never left her own. His finger nestled into the crevice where her leg met with the area no man has ever touched before. The feeling of his finger dragging along the outside of her swollen lips left her breathless. "Well, if you don't even know, then perhaps it is time for bed."
Chapter 6: I Want to Please You, Master
Hermione was painfully distracted throughout the day, but the fear of disappointing her mentor reigned her focus back in when it was needed most. She wanted to speak up last night when he sent her to bed, tell him everything she wanted him to do to her, but her voice failed her when she felt the cool air replace the feeling of his hand. Not to mention her inability to speak about sex multiplies in strength when she is in front of the man she has craved for years. The thought of him laughing at her had left her incapable of believing she stood a chance. She was still in disbelief that she has managed to accomplish as much as she has with him.
The day dragged on slowly, and suddenly it was two hours after dinner and she was freshening up to join him once more. She walked into the library wearing black shorts and a Slythern green top. As always, he barely reacted to her, so she was stunned when he spoke up before her knees landed on the carpet. In that very instant, she was terrified by the fact that he might ask for something that would require the removal of her shorts because she wasn’t sure she was capable of stripping down in front of him. Thankfully, he asked her to stand next to his chair as she had the night before.
“I want you to stand here tonight,” he began. “I want you to bend over the armrest while you pleasure me. Do you understand, Miss Granger?”
As if she was programmed to do so, she responded instantly with “yes, Master”. She was not expected to call him Master when they were out of the lab, and she rarely slipped but she assumed it was in how he asked her that caused the response. He said nothing, though she caught onto a reaction within him. He stood up and removed his trousers and his briefs in a swift motion before returning to his seat. He was harder than she thought he was when she first caught a glimpse before moving to his side. She was pleased he was hard for her, hoping it was truly because of her and not simply in anticipation of the feeling anyone would give him.
She had to lean forward to grab his dick in her hand and smiled at the increasingly familiar feeling. She let her left hand drift down more and find its way underneath while her right hand wrapped around his girth. He leaned back deeper into his chair and looked relaxed. She pumped and lightly twisted his cock in her right hand as she let her tongue glide over the top of it. She had to bend over further than she thought to bring her lips to the base. Right when she was about to encase his entire length in her mouth when she felt his hand caress the back of her leg.
She stood up, completely forgetting about her task at hand. “Please continue, Miss Granger.” She nodded silently before bending over again.
She tried focusing on what she was doing, the feeling, however, of this man’s hand grabbing the back of her calf caused her knees to buckle. Every time he dragged his nails up the back of her thigh, she would moan deeply and the throbbing member in her throat would spasm lightly in response. So, of course, he would do it again. And again.
She found she enjoyed the position very much. Not only could she enjoy the feeling of his touch on her legs, but she was able to take him deeper at this angle than she had before. She moved quicker, desperate to please him. She would occasionally pull up and swirl her tongue around the tip before plunging his cock into the deepest parts of her throat. The first time she had done so, she was rewarded with a sharp inhale.
The only downside was that she would not be able to make eye contact, which was something she thought he enjoyed because she could always feel him twitch in her mouth whenever she gazed up at him. Determined to make up for the disadvantage, Hermione was more eager than ever to please the man who sat in front of her.
She worked him the best she could, taking as much of his length as possible, holding him deep inside of her as long as she could before needing to come up for air. She was beyond aroused. As if having this man in her mouth was not arousing in and of itself, his hand roaming over the back of her leg, slowly encroaching on the area she so desperately wanted him to reach, was maddening. His hand would still and grab hold firmly when she would take him in particularly deep, and when he began to move again it was suspiciously closer to her own pleasure.
Eventually, it seemed, he let down his guard and finally threw himself into the moment. His right hand threaded his fingers into her hair, controlling the movements of her neck. His left hand had given up its attempt to remain close to her knee and began moving about aimlessly, touching every part he had access to, often grazing across her center and squeezing her cheeks. When he reached up and slipped his hand under her shorts for the first time to squeeze her tight arse, she cried out in surprise. Or she would have, had her throat not been full. She expected his hand to remove itself from under her shorts and travel down her leg again, but was pleasantly surprised when she was wrong. He continued to knead her buttcheek. His hand moved down slightly and she felt the tips of his fingers dip in between her legs. What felt warm on every other part of her body, felt cool in contrast to the heat radiating from her core. She was beyond hot and bothered, and she knew if he got any closer he would feel first hand how wet she was without needing to ask for her knickers. Lost in thought she didn’t notice when his thrust became slightly more erratic, but the pain of Severus pulling on her hair whipped her back to reality in time to feel his release.
She watched as he stood up, pulling his trousers up with him. He fastened them as he stepped around to the side of the chair and sat down on the armrest. She had never seen him do anything so uncouth. It was silly to think that sitting on an armrest was improper when that certainly never stopped her nor any of her friends, but Severus was the epitome of sophistication and refinement, at least in her eyes, and this was very out of character.
Even with him sitting before her, she was still shorter. This was the closest they had ever been eye to eye before. It was unsettling. “Have you thought about what we discussed yesterday?” She felt his hand on her leg again, working its way up.
“Yes, Master.” His hand grabbed her thigh firmly, so firmly that the suddenness pulled her forward slightly and she placed one hand on his shoulder to steady herself. The shock on her face lessened when she felt him loosen his grip and continue moving. She felt his thumb swipe up and into her shorts, grazing along the covered flesh. She wasn’t sure what noise escaped her lips, but she knew it was neither charming nor seductive. She felt herself flush at the increased temperature. Not only was she incredibly aroused but now she was also mortified at how poorly she was handling the situation she had been dreaming about since her school days. Needing to look away from his piercing gaze, she looked down and realized that she was standing between his legs with her one hand still resting on his shoulder and the other on top of his right leg. Hermione closed her eyes, trying to calm her breath when his fingers slipped underneath the material that had previously separated her most intimate part from the touch of the man before her.
“Breathe.” She hadn’t even noticed she wasn’t breathing until she felt the pain of the first gasp after holding one’s breath. He moved his fingers slowly against the outside of her slick entrance, never once coming close to pushing past her threshold. “Is this all for me, Miss Granger?” he whispered suddenly in the huskiest voice she ever heard. She nodded, not daring to open her eyes. “Say it.”
“Yes, Master.” Again, his fingers stilled at the dominant term, and she felt one finger dip in slightly, as if wanting to plunge into her but not willing to take the step. At the growl resonating from the man, she forced herself to meet his eyes.
“You needn’t call me ‘Master’, Miss Granger, not in this setting.”
“You still call me ‘Miss Granger’, sir,” she pointed out. “Besides,” Hermione paused momentarily, unsure if she should continue, and still struggling to breathe properly through his touches. “Besides, you like it when I do, and - and if something pleases you, I want - I want to please you, Master.”
Chapter 7: Do You Like When I Touch You
“I want to please you, Master.”
Severus was distracted all day. He was distracted by the woman who was walking around the lab, his lab, as if she owned it, as if she belonged. Here. With him.
“I want to please you, Master.”
Her statement replayed in his mind over and over. Unsure as to what exactly she meant, what exactly she wanted from him, he was distracted from the lesson he set her up to complete.
“I want to please you, Master.”
With him? Why would she belong here, with him? Did he want her here with him? Surely not. Naturally he was attracted to the young witch, one would be blind not to be. Merlin, blind wizards would still be attracted to her. She was positively radiant, beyond her physical beauty, her energy was magnetic, her laugh was contagious, -even though he never joined in- her intelligence was captivating, and her magical prowess was utterly bewitching, even when slightly intimidating to those opposing her. Yes, she was a magnificent witch, but - with him? It was apparent that the last week was merely messing with his thoughts. Previously, his unprofessional thoughts regarding the witch, which were plentiful, never strayed from the myriad of inappropriate ways he envisioned punishing her for her smart mouth when she wasn’t quick enough to stop herself. With him, though, here in his house and home, involved more than bending her over the chopping station when she rolled her eyes at his always pleasant and tactful feedback regarding her precision. It also involved bending her over the kitchen table after the dinner he would cook for them and before the dessert she would prepare. That actually didn’t sound too bad. The thought of licking whipped cream off her -
It wasn’t the first time she reached out to touch him. He knew Miss Granger to be a very affectionate person, he had seen it occasionally during her school years, but certainly more so after the war. It was clear that the war took a toll when death stole away those she loved. Worse even was the effect that war had on Potter, and how Miss Granger felt she needed to fawn over him. Make sure he was taking care of himself, that he was happy. He didn’t understand why she felt compelled to be always touching him when he came to visit her at school. It was as if she thought he would fade away lest she kept him within arm’s reach. Thankfully, this lessened when she moved in as his apprentice, not that he allowed Potter’s presence within his house, however he would see them whenever Potter escorted her back.
No, it wasn’t the first time she reached out. It was the first time, their recent evenings excluded, that she followed through and touched him. It was almost startling to him.
“Is everything alright, Master?”
“Do you like when I touch you here, Miss Granger?” The night proceeded similarly to the evening prior. Severus was increasingly impressed with his Miss Granger’s natural intuition on how to best satisfy him. He had given very little instruction, and also very little feedback, which he knew bothered her greatly.
He now sat in front of her on the armrest with his hand between her legs. The sounds coming from her were so enticing, so captivatingly delicious, that it was to her benefit he was already taken care of, otherwise he would have little control in stopping himself from plowing into her full force.
Even still, there was restraint on his part.
“Yes, sir” she mewled. She looked so delicate and innocent in her blue nightgown. He enjoyed the fact that she did not try to be overtly seductive in wearing little to no clothing around him. She was practical and took a pragmatic approach to all ventures in her life, sleep attire included. This didn’t bother him in the least. No, he quite enjoyed this nightgown. He enjoyed that the neckline was low enough that he could watch the blush travel from her face down to her chest when he embarrassed her. He enjoyed how he could see her nipples harden through the material when he aroused her. He enjoyed not seeing where his hands were going when he began caressing her soft legs.
“Do you want me to continue to do so?” He had decided at some point earlier that she deserved a reward, of sorts, for her good behavior lately as well as for her progressively excellent performance.
He began slowly. It was abundantly clear that she was inexperienced and, to an extent, uncomfortable with his reciprocation, but that was not because she didn’t crave it. He could see how aroused she was, he could smell it in the air.
He allowed his hands to roam over her legs, gently tickling the back of her knees, firmly gripping the inside of her thighs, occasionally grazing her damp kickers until she was visibly weak in the knees. He could feel the shaking against his hands. He pulled her closer and rested one of her arms on his shoulder. Then, he slowly reached up and hooked his thumbs into the lace. He looked at her and saw desire in her big doe eyes. There was want, innocence, concern, but most importantly for him, approval. He slowly pulled the material down her legs, leaning forward to do so. His face was so close to her chest, if this was another time or another woman, he would take advantage of the space between them and latch on. Merlin knew he wanted to. He couldn’t count the number of times he had imagined playing with, what he could only imagine as, her magnificent breasts. So young, full and pert. He wanted nothing more, but this was not the time. Besides, he feared that would be far too intimate, especially without knowing where this was all going. Where he wanted this to go.
“Yes, sir.” He had played with her, teased and tempted her for too long before he finally allowed for one finger to slip into her. She was so tight, he feared anything more would have actually hurt her. The sounds she was making though, he never wanted it to stop. He never wanted her to stop making those sounds. For him. Only for him.
“Then I shall be the only one to touch you. Do you understand, Miss Granger?” He was selfish. He had always been selfish, and this was no different. He still wasn’t sure what else he wanted, but he knew he wanted this. Her wet pussy dripped into his hand as he massaged the outside of her folds with his thumb, stroking her insides with his finger. She was a mess and he wanted to know that he was the only one who would ever make her feel this way. That he would forever be the only one to cause that face, those sounds.
“You are the only one, sir.” Yes. He knew he was. It was very clear, but hearing it was satisfying.
“Is that including yourself?” He kept moving. Pumping his finger in and out of her.
“I hear you at night, Miss Granger.” He pulled her forward slightly with the hand between her legs and leaned in. He could feel her chest against his, her breasts pushing into him as she struggled to breath. “I hear the delicious noises you make.” His face was next to hers and he whispered into her ears. “Tell me, are you thinking of me when you touch yourself?” Both of her hands on his shoulders tightened. She was embarrassed. Mortified, even. He didn’t care, in fact, he loved it. “Tell me,” he commanded.
“Ye- Yes, sir.” His hand moved torturously slow, barely moving at all.
“Yes, what, Miss Granger?” He smiled into her hair, knowing how uncomfortable she was.
“Yes, I am thinking of you, sir.” Her hands gripped tighter again, and she pulled herself into him. Her exposed neck was so close to his lips, it took all of his willpower to not lick her, to not bite down on her shoulder. He would one day. One day he would have every part of her in his mouth and he salivated at the thought. But not today.
“When?” Now he was simply being an arse, but he wanted to hear her tell him that she thought of him. He wanted to hear the words float from her beautiful lips. “Tell me.” He also thrived from the control he had over her. He never noticed it before, but thinking back over the last few months, he found it arousing to have the strong witch bend to his will.
“Yes, I am thinking of you-” her voice hitched as he began picking up the pace, “when I touch myself at night. Sir.” His fingers were dancing quicker now, he could hear her getting close. He yearned to hear her call out his name, but he wouldn’t give her that pleasure, not yet. Not tonight.
“While that pleases me greatly, Miss Granger, we’re going to run a little experiment.” He kept up the pace, but stopped stimulating her clit, preventing her from finally climaxing at his touch. “If this is what you want” his finger stroked firmly against her g-spot, “then mine will be the only fingers that bring you pleasure. From now on, I will be the only one allowed to touch you,” a quick swipe of his thumb against her clit, “unless I say otherwise. If you find that release, it is because I have determined that you have earned it. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir.” His hand stopped moving.
“Good.” She whimpered at the loss of his touch. “Now, go to bed, Miss Granger. We have much to do tomorrow.”
Chapter 8: With a Little Encouragement
“I’m not in the mood.” He had been short with her since after lunch for no apparent reason, from what she could tell. He was not angry with her, or at least he had not said as much, but he was significantly less enjoyable company today than he had been recently and Hermione really wanted to know why. She knew, however, that it was not her place to ask. She only hoped it had nothing to do with her.
“Oh.” She was disheartened to hear that he didn’t want her. It wasn’t what he said, but it was how she felt. How she often felt. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, Miss Granger. I simply have a few things on my mind.” She felt silly, knowing she was reading into it more than necessary. Although they were not together by any means, he had never said he wanted her, so perhaps she was not reading into anything. He rarely started any interaction between them further than their lessons. Maybe he didn’t want anything to do with her and he was merely allowing her these evenings to pass the time. It was possible that he was counting down the days until she left and he would have peace in his house again. “Perhaps, with a little encouragement though, - “
Her ears perked up at the statement. “Sir?” Yes. He wanted her. He wanted to continue. He wanted more.
Severus stood and placed himself on the armrest, same as he had been the last few nights. He looked at Hermione with great concentration, studying her face, looking for something, though she wasn’t sure what. His eyes drifted down her neck and landed on her chest before meeting her eyes again. While she previously thought she had caught him looking at her body, she was never quite sure. If he had been looking, it was far too subtle. This time, there was no mistaking it. “Remove your top, Miss Granger.”
“My- My top? Wh- erm, I-”
“You needn’t do anything you don’t want to, I was only thinking that it would please me greatly to see you remove your top.” That was exactly what she wanted. She wanted to please him, always.
“Oh, right. Okay. Sure.” Hermione crossed her arms and grabbed the hem of her shirt. She hesitated, briefly, then swiftly lifted the material up and over her head. After dropping the material to the floor, she kept her arms across her chest. It was obvious that he wanted to see her body, but she had never felt so exposed before and even though this could easily start a chain of events that will lead them to the end result she had been craving, it was very uncomfortable standing in front of her fully dressed mentor while wearing nothing other than her itty bitty green shorts.
“And now your shorts.” She hesitated again, reminiscent of when he first asked her to remove her knickers, perhaps more so. Hermione had not been looking at Severus, unable to meet his eyes, until his second command. The trepidation must have been written all over her face, because he spoke up again. In a most reassuring tone, one not often heard coming from Severus Snape, “I’m not going to do anything. I only want to look at you.” He didn’t smile, but his face was kind. His eyes were honest. She reached into her shorts, almost grabbing the lace of her underwear as well, but decided against it. She was halfway down her thigh when she heard him say “Slower, Miss Granger.”
Her hands were at her ankles and she was almost completely naked. She did not want to stand up and give him a full view of her body, but bending over felt even more vulnerable. As she stood up again, she watched his eyes travel up her body, following the path of her hands. “Should I-?” She had her fingers in her panties, asking if he wanted her to remove those as well, but to her surprise, he shook his head.
“I think the temptation would be far too great if you do.” She saw his eyes darker as they gazed down at her, she watched as his cock hardened at the sight of her nearly naked body. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted him to want her as she wanted him. Emboldened by his physiological responses, she stepped forward between his legs.
For the first time, she was the one to unbutton his shirt. She placed a hand on his chest exactly where she felt it the first time almost a year ago. She remembered being this close that time as well, so close her nose was almost touching his sternum. So close, if she stuck her tongue out a bit, she could lick him. She wanted to lick him. So she did. Suddenly she felt his hand pulling her hair so hard, her head was jerked back and she was staring into his lust-filled eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that since I ran into you after your shower.”
“I’m starting to think you may have orchestrated that.”
“I wish I was so bold.” She whimpered a bit at the pain of her neck being pulled back so far.
“Is this you not being bold, Miss Granger?”
She didn’t respond. Instead, she reached down to undo his belt and open his trousers. He stood up for her to push them down, and as they stood before each other, she licked him again. She giggled when he pulled on her hair again. Their eyes met and she saw signs of unidentifiable emotion. “You’re playing with fire, Miss Granger.”
“I have been known to do so.”
“Yes, I am well aware of your pyrotechnics capabilities, and my robes suffered for it.” She didn’t know that he knew it was she who had set his robe ablaze. “Something for which I have yet to punish you.” He placed his hand upon her shoulder and pushed her down to her knees. She submitted willingly with a soft smile upon her lips.
“Please, stand up, Miss Granger.” He had been resting upon the armrest, which she found to be the best positioning so far. He was situated lower than when standing fully, but also not awkwardly beneath her as when he is seated. She now stood before him, still completely bare other than the skimpy material covering the smallest amount of her. He began touching her legs, though not venturing far from her center. Teasing her, warming her up for the immense pleasure he wanted to bring her. “You were a very good girl last night.” He hooked the material with his pinky and dragged it down her legs, leaving her fully exposed before him. The ascent back was painfully slow, leaving Hermione wanting and frustrated. “I didn’t hear one sound coming from your room. Not one,” he paused as he dipped a finger into her and listened to her “moan.” He smirked at her reaction. “Do you know what I like about your body, Miss Granger?” He didn’t wait for a response. She didn't think he was really expecting one as he began drawing tiny circles across her clit. “It’s so responsive. So unfamiliar with each sensation, you react so strongly to the smallest touch.” As he spoke, he gently ran his left hand up her waist, and when he reached high enough, he guided her left arm to his shoulder, allowing her to use him as her support. His fingers danced their way back across the span of her arm. His thumb caressed the side of her breast as his hand made its way back down to her waist where it finally rested on her hip. He inserts his second finger into her incredibly tight pussy, she could feel her body stretching around him. “So willing to accommodate me.” She gasped when he began to move, stretching her more. “To meet my needs.” He slowly pulled his fingers out, and pushed them back in equally slow. “So perfect.” Again. She moaned, both at his words as well as his touch. Perfect. He thought of her, or at least her body, as perfect. Perfect for him. Her hips began moving to meet his hand as he quickened the pace at which he brought her pleasure. “Very pleasurable, indeed. I can hardly wait,” he whispered into her ear before he pulled his fingers from her body completely. “Good night, Miss Granger.”
Hermione began walking to the door with her shirt and shorts in hand, feeling frustrated, neglected and so horny that she could barely stand to look at him without either yelling or orgasming.
“I hope I needn’t repeat myself, Miss Granger.”
“No, sir” she whimpered in defeat. She didn't need to ask what he meant. If ever there was a night in which she wanted to touch herself, it was tonight.
“You were right, Miss Granger. I do prefer ‘Master’.”
Chapter 9: Tell Me You Want Me To
It had been a good day. The morning lesson went smoothly, the two discussed the idea of using arithmancy to calculate the best way to enlarge batches of the more complex potions, such as Wolfsbane. It was a riveting debate that bled into lunchtime. Distracted by the amiable conversation, Severus joined Hermione for lunch, one of the few times ever that he had chosen to do so. The conversation shifted about halfway through from potions theory to various scholastic topics. They eventually became slightly more personal, but of no real depth nor value, the most notable moments consisted of Hermione either playfully flirting or not understanding a double meaning to her words, something Severus would not have put past the bookworm to not notice.
Severus chose to step over the line they drew without discussion that had been separating their daily routine from their nightly one. He wasn’t sure what finally drove him to make this call, but he had spent far too much time contemplating her motives and knew it was time to do some digging.
“What would Mr Potter and Mr Weasley think of your behaviour here as of recent?” He kept his tone steady, not to give away anything that he may or may not have been feeling.
“Of my behaviour, sir?” It appeared at first as though she was not on the same page as he, which was noticeably unusual for the two. After a moment of deliberation, she caught up and gave thought to her response. “Well, I don’t think they would much believe it, to be honest,” she replied sheepishly. She paused again, weighing her options, deliberating how much to say. “Of what has come from my behaviour, however, well I suppose they would congratulate me.” She smiled softly, clearly pleased with herself for some reason.
“And why is that, Miss Granger?”
“Well, you see, one might say they have been privy to my interests.” She spoke slowly. Choosing her words carefully. Not providing more than that which was required to answer the question. Now he understood why people were so often frustrated with him.
“How is that?”
“Other than being two of my closest friends? Apparently, I talk in my sleep.” She took a bite of her fish, giving him an opportunity to speak, one he did not take. He knew she wouldn’t like talking about this, neither did he, but he wanted some answers or at least some understanding greater than the little he had. He knew that once he got her going, she would ramble off, much to her chagrin, too much information. “Harry heard me one night, well they both heard me plenty of times, to be frank. It seems I talk in my sleep quite often. We all do, really, but Ron” - let the rambling begin - “well, he only does when he eats too much, or not enough. Which seems to be most nights. Harry used to more during school and especially during the war. Actually, he doesn’t much anymore at all, not that I have noti-”
“What do you mean anymore? When was the last time you slept with Mr Potter?”
“What? I’ve never slept with Harry! I sleep with you! I mean, I want to sleep with you.” - and here came the answers - “Oh, Merlin, no. No no no, I mean I sleep here with you, in your bed. Your house! Godric! Here in this house with you here as well, here but not together. Obviously. Uh, Harry. Yes, Harry and I often fall asleep together on the couch while watching movies. Ginny and Ron don’t care much for them. Freaks them out a bit still, I suppose. That’s it, though. We’ve never, you know, that. I haven’t, I mean, you probably guessed that, haven’t you? I’ve wanted to. Not with him though! Nor Ron. Just with y- UGH.” Her face was vibrant red, putting the Weasley hair to shame. It was the most frighteningly adorable look, unfortunately her face was covered with both her hands and she shook her head frantically. “May I be excused until our afternoon lesson, sir?”
He wanted to push her more, he barely got anything from her, but it almost sounded as though she were on the brink of tears and the last thing he needed was a crying Granger in his kitchen. “Yes, Miss Granger. I will see you in half an hour.”
She got up without a word more and ran from the room. He heard her ascend the steps and close the door to her room. Perhaps that did not work as well as he had expected. She so often defied his expectations, there was no reason for their developing rela- situation to be different.
She definitely cried. It was hardly discernible, but it was there. He could sense the glamour charm used in an attempt to hide her swollen, red eyes. She used to cast them in the beginning of their time together to cover her scars. The one left by Dolohov from the battle in the Dept. of Mysteries and the few left by Bellatrix. It drained her magic to keep them strong all day, so he demanded she stop. She stopped hiding her physical scars but would still be casting a glamour charm every few days and it took weeks for him to find out why. He should have realized it sooner. They all suffered greatly from the war, everyone had their demons to battle, many of which resonate during the night. He was foolish to think she did not have nightmares merely because he heard nothing coming from her room at night. It took months, but eventually he got her to open up about them. She described everything. Everything that happened at school that he somehow hadn’t known, everything she could remember from the Dept. of Mysteries, everything that happened while the trio were off "camping” as she called it, what happened at Malfoy Manor, what happened during the battle at Hogwarts, her sacrifices, her loses, her pains, her fears. He promised himself that he would help her. She was broken and he would fix her. He blocked silencing charms within the house, something which greatly annoyed Miss Granger, at first. From there, they developed a routine, of sorts. He would wake her from her nightly attacks, make her tea and sit in silence until she fell asleep. After a week or two, the silence was filled with her explanations and more tears. After a month, the nightmares started later in the night, until there were a few nights that went uninterrupted. The last few months were filled with more sleep than tears, and she rarely needed magic assistance to cover the fact that she had trouble sleeping. The nightmares were almost forgotten, until now.
“You do not need to hide-”
“Please don’t.” It wasn’t harsh, but it was not the polite way she would request something of him. There was no ‘sir’, no ‘Master’. She would not speak of this any further, and he would not push her.
With a wave of her hand, a flame was lit and mixture in the cauldron started to heat. She walked by him without even a glance on her way to the ingredients against the back wall. He looked at her and tried naming the emotions festering beneath the surface. He was right about to, they were on the tip of the figurative tongue, when he stomped them back down.
“You don’t have to, Miss Granger.” She had barely stepped into the room. She paused at his words but continued to make her way over to him. She rounded his chair and knelt before him, avoiding his gaze. “You don’t have to.”
She looked up at him. There wasn’t the feeling of contentment radiating from her, he sensed no happiness nor satisfaction, and her weak smile did little to convince him otherwise.
Still on her knees, she rose up and placed her hands on his legs. “Please.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. “Please, sir. Master. I want to.” She began rubbing his legs. He didn’t want her to feel like she had to, not that he started this in the first place, but there were times, moments, in which he still felt that he was taking advantage of her. He shook his head and tried to speak again. “Please. Please let me.” Her voice was trembling. “Please, tell me to.” Her eyes were pleading with him. So much pain, so much want. He was unsure of what to do. “Please, tell me to. Please, tell me you want me to.” He saw the tear threatening to roll away. He was floored at the display of emotion. He was tempted to scoop her up and hold her, but would have been startlingly out of character. What would he have done next?
“Why?” He was so confused, so unsure of what to do.
“I want to please you, Master. Please, let me.”
“Why must I tell you to?” He looked her in the eyes, looking for the same answers as earlier. Did she want to be controlled as much as he wished to control her? She was beautifully strong willed and he enjoyed her fiery way of fighting for what she thought to be right. He would never want to damper her passion, her drive, but he would be lying if he denied finding it exorbitantly arousing to take control of her in one way or another.
“I-” She shook her head. “Please, sir.” Perhaps tonight was not about answers. “Please, tell me what you want me to do. Please. I will do anything you want.” Normally, having the witch begging on her knees would be the highlight of his week. This was sad. Not in a pathetic way. It was disheartening, but he wanted to help her. He told himself he would help her. He hoped this would help her. “Please,” she whispered.
Severus stood up and she looked hopeful. “Well, Miss Granger? Must I always invite you to begin?” She smiled at the question and shook her head. She undid his belt and lowered his trousers to the floor. He stepped out of them and sat down, still wearing his briefs. She looked at him, confused as to why he was sitting before she had access to what she needed to please him. “I think I need a little more encouragement, Miss Granger.”
She nodded, happy to help him. After standing up, she lifted her nightgown over her head. He watched her petite frame stretch as she lifted her arms up. Her breasts were perfect, perfect for his hands, his mouth. Not tonight, he had to remind himself. He grabbed her hips and pulled her forward. Startled by the unexpected movement, she nearly fell into him. He growled. His face was so close to her chest, his erection was becoming painful. He heard her giggle. It wasn’t as happy and lighthearted as the night before, but it was soft and comforting.
He felt her fingers play with his buttons. She worked her way down his chest until he was as exposed as she was. She stepped back from him and he watched as she lowered the last of her clothing down her legs. He wanted to protest. He made it clear yesterday where it would lead had she done so, but tonight was different. There was a different feeling in the air. She stepped forward again. She placed the moist cloth in his hand and placed a knee on the seat between his legs. He was not sure what she was doing, but wasn’t going to stop her. She placed her hands flat on his chest. “Please, tell me what you want me to do, Master.”
Normally, he would not bend so easily to her words, but her pout was so damn fuckable. “You know what I want, Miss Granger.” He took her chin in his hand, kept her gaze on him. “I want to watch my cock disappear into that brilliant mouth of yours, and you will not stop until you feel my seed drip down your throat.” She went to move, but he held her chin in place. “I want to hear how much you enjoy it.” His thumb brushed against her bottom lip. He gently pulled her lip down and inserted his thumb into her mouth and felt her tongue. “I want to know how much you enjoy having me fuck your pretty little face. Understood?”
He was holding her jaw in place, but he could feel her trying to nod. Her eyes were wide with surprise and lust. He removed his thumb from her mouth and released his hold on her. She ran her hands over his chest, and he was surprised to feel her plant kisses on her way down. Every few times her lips graced his skin, he could feel her tongue dip out and leave its mark. She got down to his waist and kissed his erection through their covering. She was quick to lower his briefs and ran her hands over his thighs.
Rather than starting with the tip, as she normally had done in the past, he was astounded by the sensation of his balls in her warm mouth. She kept her mouth around at least one as her tongue dipped out to caress the skin below. She began working his rod with her hand faster and he needed to stop himself from exploding. Against his will, a groan was ripped from his mouth and she responded with great appreciation. Her mouth abandoned the sack below and took in a new yet familiar resident. She lowered her face over his erection and with great care, she took him in as deep as she could. She worked feverishly, unrelenting in her quest to satisfy him. It was fast and sloppy, but all the while amazing. He took her hair into his hand and held her in place. Gone was his earlier reluctance. If this was what she wanted, he would give her all of it and more. He brought his hips up to meet her face and after only a few quick thrusts, he finished.
Without pause, or thought, he pulled her up and spun her quickly before forcefully pulling her into his chest and wrapping his left arm around her waist. She released a squeal of pleasant surprise as she landed on him. His face was in her neck, still unwilling to engage intimately. He took in her scent, breathing in deeply. His hand travelled down and without any warm up at all, his fingers were lost between her legs. She cried out. There might have been discomfort at first, but it was quickly overruled by the pleasurable sensations building in her lower abdomen. He caressed the side of her neck with his nose. She let her head fall back on his left shoulder, exposing herself to him. He had the most wonderest view of her body laid out before him, on him. He could do with her as he pleased and she wouldn’t be able to stop him, though he doubted she would even consider it.
“You are unbelievably tight, Miss Granger.”
“Mmmm” was all he got from her. He kept working her. He was equally as fast and dirty as she was with him. This was not to be confused with love-making of any sort. It was the result of two or three year’s worth of sexual tension and a shitty afternoon.
He knew the effect his voice had on her. He had seen her swoon to non-swoon worthy statements all due to his way of speech. She held onto this every word, whether they were related to potions or something more salacious. “I must admit,” he spoke, breathing heavily against her neck and she hummed in response, “I love the sight of you fucking my hand. I cannot wait to have you wrapped tight around my cock.” Her moans were becoming louder, more frequent. She was on the cusp of her first orgasm at his hand. He needed to decide quickly if this was what he wanted. He had not planned for this tonight, but he was not sure that stopping would be wise after the day they had. She clearly was not sure how he felt or what he wanted, which was entirely on purpose, but he did not want to see her struggle so much in response. “Is that what you want?”
She was breathing so heavily now, one hand gripping the armrest to their right, while her left was clutching the arm holding her in place.
“I asked you a question, Miss Granger.”
“Yes, Master!” She was speaking so loudly, not having control of her voice this close to her own release. “Yes, that’s- oh, Merlin, yes, that’s what I want.”
He still didn’t let up. He wasn’t giving enough for her to finish, but he wouldn’t give her time to calm either. Answers. “What is it that you want?” She shook her head. “Come on, tell me what you want and maybe I will give it to you.”
“I- I wa-” she shook her head. Her body was moving against his as she continued to fuck herself on his hand. He could feel his erection growing stronger again between her arse cheeks.
“Do you feel that, Miss Granger?” He lifted his hips up, pushing his impressive cock hard against her backside. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes, sir! That’s what I want!”
“You’re not being a very good girl, Miss Granger.” She whimpered and shook her head. “That is what you want, isn’t it? You want to be a good girl?” She nodded again, more frantically. He faintly heard her say yes. “Then say it. Tell me what you want!”
“I want you! I wan- uhh I- ohh mm” she was lost in her arousal, not thinking straight. “I want this. I want this with you. Please.” Her breathing was even more heavy. He needed to tighten his grip on her. “Please, please. This is what I want. Please.” His hand stilled. “No, no no. Please.” She nearly cried. “Please, I was good. Wasn’t I good? Please, Master, I told you what I want. Please.”
His hand did not move, but neither did his hold on her. He kept her in place against his chest. He didn’t know what she wanted. She could have meant so many things. She had such a hard time talking about this, he couldn’t trust her to be clear with her intentions. She kept whispering ‘please’ over and over. He didn’t want to move backwards from where they were now, but he also could not risk giving away his own position on the matter. “I told you we were running an experiment.” He heard her whimper a few more ‘no’s and ‘please’s. He loosened the grip he had on her waist and she tightened her grip in response. “That’s enough, Miss Granger. It’s time for you to retire for the night.”
Her eyes were closed as she gathered herself. She nodded as a show of understanding, but still had not moved yet. They remained like this for a few moments before he felt uncomfortable at the intimacy of it all.
Chapter 10: This Is What You Wanted
The following day was difficult. It took hours for Hermione to fall asleep after leaving the library, and even when she found sleep, it was pitiful at best. She woke an hour earlier than normal and knew there was no point in trying any longer.
She could see in his face that Severus recognized the signs of a restless night, though he refrained from saying anything.
He was stand-offish and cold, far more than two days ago when he was “not in the mood”. She wasn’t sure what was going on with him lately, but it was unsettling. Not to mention, very annoying. He was so hot and cold with her, but she knew she was towing the line with her nightly attempts to get close to him. Perhaps he was struggling to come to terms with his feelings on the matter. She simply needed to carry on.
The morning was tense. He was displeased with the level of thoroughness she gave in her answers, or the lack thereof in his opinion. He even left early, leaving her to read in the hopes that “something might actually stick and make her worth talking to.” He was in a right mood, indeed. She tried hard to not let his words bother her, but it was a fruitless attempt, as his opinions mattered very dearly to her.
The practical portion of the day was equally as strained. He was openly displeased with everything, and when he startled her, causing her to drop the eye of newt into the cauldron at the wrong time, the unfinished concoction exploded out and onto them. Thankfully, the mixture was not toxic. It was very hot, though, and not easily removed. That was when he sent her away due to her incompetence.
“Get out!” She hadn’t even stepped in the room yet. She closed the door and took two steps before freezing. “I said out, Miss Granger. Or are you completely incapable of following directions?”
She would not let herself be deterred. Yesterday did not start out great at first either, and it turned out, well it turned out frustrating in the end, but it was very pleasurable along the way there. “I can, but I want-”
“What? You want to what? To please me?” He was still upset, but tomorrow could be equally stressful unless he finds some release. She nodded. “And if I said you don’t? Would you leave?” She didn’t know how to respond. Yes, if he said she did not please him and asked for her to leave, she would go. She didn’t believe that though. Something had shifted and she knew he wanted her there, to some extent. She had hoped it was as much as she wanted to be there, and in the same capacity, but today made her second guess her ideas on the subject. “Well, you should leave then. She was making her way toward the chair when he bolted to his feet. She froze at the sudden movement and even stumbled back. He took two long strides in her direction and suddenly her back connected with the wall behind her and Severus towering over her. His hand was on her chest, at the base of the neck. “Why are you doing this?” he yelled.
“Stop it! Stop saying that.” She could see the battle of emotions behind his features. The extra firewhiskey not allowing him to keep his usual composure. His hand shifted up and rested firmly around her neck. “You don’t know-” His voice was dark and full of pain. “You can’t know that!” His left fist hit the wall above her and his grip on her tightened. She jumped at the sudden aggressiveness. Her eyes blew wide in surprise, she trembled slightly beneath him. When their eyes met again, she saw his face soften and twist with regret. He was about to pull away when she instinctively reached out and held him by his shirt.
They stared at each other. She lowered her hands, unbuttoning his shirt on their way down. “Stop it.” His voice was still dark, raspy from the alcohol, but no longer held the contempt nor command from before. “I told you to stop.” She reached the last button and right when her fingers were about to grab hold of the leather strap keeping his trousers up, the hand around her neck pulled her forward. “Fine,” his lips were centimeters from hers until the moment he pushed her back against the wall. The hand that had hit the wall above her, that had gripped her hip painfully when he pulled her in, travelled firmly up her body. She trembled beneath his touch, more out of anticipation than actual fear. Hermione, while respecting his power and strength to accomplish just about anything, did not fear this man. In fact, she trusted him more than most anyone else in her life. She wasn’t sure what to be thinking at the moment, though. He was heated, slightly inebriated and touching her in a way far more rough than ever before. He grabbed her breast and squeezed causing her to whimper at his painful grip but she didn’t cry out. “Let’s see how much you enjoy pleasing me.” He pulled her gown over her body with no resistance. When she tried to cover her chest, he grabbed her arms and held them above her head. “Why would you cover your body when it pleases me to see it? Why would you cover your body when you so clearly want me to touch it?”
He released his grip on her arms and though she let them fall, she did not return them to her chest. He unlooped his belt and pushed his pants to his ankles. There was a brief moment when she thought he would go further tonight than he allowed them in the past, and for the first time, Hermione did not want to. This was not what she wanted. She didn’t want him drunk and angry. She wanted him, but this wasn’t him. Her thoughts were interrupted when he gripped her. “I told you, I-” he shook his head. He was visibly frustrated. She placed a calming hand on his chest, reassuring him of whatever was bothering him. “Remember that this is what you wanted” he said as he pushed her down the wall and onto him.
She was relieved that he was not planning on taking her virginity in a moment of drunken anger. She assumed that this couldn’t be much worse than the first two nights when he was obviously trying to persuade her from her endeavor. She was wrong. He took out whatever grievance he had on her. He was far more rough than ever before, and because he had her pinned between himself and the wall he used for support, her head would occasionally bang back against it when met with a particularly hard thrust. He gripped the back of her neck and held her in place. He worked fast and hard, not giving her any time to catch her breath or swallow her saliva nor the tears running down her face. It took little time for him to finish. He pulled from her and she crumbled to the floor.
His eyes were wide in shock as he looked down at her. There was silence, other than an occasional sob that Hermione was not able to suppress. “I didn’t-” He shook his head, as though to deny the reality of what happened. He stumbled back from her, not meeting her eyes and looking utterly appalled by his own actions. “I’m so-”
For the first time, Severus Snape walked out first, leaving Hermione alone in his library. She sat there, on the floor clutching her nightgown to her chest, trying to rationalize what happened.
Chapter 11: Always... You
If nothing else, he was in control. Always.
Except for yesterday. He let wild thoughts get the best of him and handled it poorly.
He left a note on the door of the study they used to discuss theory telling Miss Granger that she was excused from lessons. He half expected to hear her banging on his door an hour later demanding answers. Not answers explaining his behavior from the night before, but rather to questions of magical theory. Nothing would stand between his little know-it-all and her education. Her thirst for knowledge was insatiable, something he found rather endearing in her, no matter how he may mock her for it.
There was no knocking, no questioning. He thought he heard her outside his door, but he must have imagined it.
It was dark outside. He hadn’t noticed when the sun set and night crept in. There was no fire blazing in front of him. He never lit it, not wanting the comfort brought on by the familiar heat. He deserved no comfort, not after the cruelty committed by his hands the night before.
He heard the door open. He wanted to tell her to go away, but he knew that to be pointless. She never listened before when he told her to leave. She closed the door gently and walked over to him so quietly, he thought he was imagining it. Maybe he was.
“Have you been drinking?” She asked him.
“No.” She nodded and knelt. “Don’t.” She didn’t listen. She never listened. “Why are you here?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” This bothered him. Why wouldn’t she be? Why would she, was clearly the more obvious question. The question to which he didn’t have an answer. There were plenty of reasons for why she would not be there, but he was having a difficult time finding one reason she would want to be. “I’m fine. Everything is oka-”
“It was not okay!” He said forcefully, while maintaining control of himself, too scared to let anything like that happen again.
“I didn’t say it was okay.” She spoke quickly at first, but calmed as she continued. “I was saying that everything is okay. Now. Last night was certainly not okay.” She placed a gentle hand on his knee and he stiffened at her touch. He sat up more and attempted to pull back into the chair, but she did not remove her hand. “Will you tell me what happened?”
“You were there.”
“Yes, I was, but that wasn’t what I asked.” She was calm. Very level headed considering what they were discussing. “Why were you so upset?”
“That does not pertain to you.”
“I think it does.” She said flatly. Still no malice or hatred for his cruel act, she spoke with a monotonous cadence that revealed no emotion. “I think it does pertain to me, and whatever it was clearly bothered you a great deal. Maybe if you told me-”
“I have no need to share my feelings with you.” He spat the words at her, though she still showed no signs of turning away from him. “You should leave.”
“Because you do not want me to.”
“Why did I tell you to leave if I did not want you to go?”
“You didn’t tell me to leave. You said I should go, as if it was in your opinion that leaving would be to my benefit, but you did not tell me to and I don’t think you want me to.” She paused. Waiting for him to speak, and when he did not, she continued. “Yesterday was not okay. I will neither condone nor justify your behavior, but I do hope one day you will enlighten me to what has you so torn.” He was about to speak, but she held her hand up to stop him. She lifted one finger and his entire world stopped to hear what she had to say. “You want this. I know you do, even when you are struggling to admit it. I want this too. That is why I am here.”
He turned his head from her. Rejecting the idea that she’d want him, trying to tell her that he didn’t want her. He wasn’t going to respond. He wanted to tell her that she was wrong. That he wanted nothing to do with her, but knew the words wouldn’t sound believable. He didn’t even believe it yesterday when he tried convincing himself of that, because he did want her. He wanted her but admitting it would make it all the more painful when she inevitably left him. He wanted her, but he knew she couldn’t truly want the same, regardless of her words. He felt her rise to her feet and assumed she was leaving after his rejection. When he didn’t hear her moving away from him, he looked back to see what she was doing.
She was staring at him, deep into his eyes. Looking for something, she was always looking for answers that were never going to be there. He wasn’t sure what she was going to do, he didn’t want to know. “Go. You should go.”
She smiled softly at him and nodded, but not in agreement. Without bothering to respond to his words, she lifted her shirt above her head and let it fall to the floor. He closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear to look at her. It would only remind him of what he did to her. What he might have done if he- he couldn’t think about that. He wouldn’t. He would never hurt her like that, but he did come close and he never felt so much shame for his own actions. He felt the weight of her knee press into the cushion between his legs. He opened his eyes in horror. “What are you doing?” Steadying herself with his shoulders, she lifted one knee over his leg, then did the same with her other so that she was straddling his lap. “You shouldn’t do this.” She still didn’t say anything. She only looked him in the eyes, still looking for something. “Go, before I hurt you again.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.” She was so confident. So sure of herself and her opinion of him. “You didn’t hurt me.” He gripped the chair. “I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me.”
“Yes, I did.” Parts of the night were hazy. He wasn’t as drunk as he was angry and confused. He was disoriented most of the day and into the evening. So many conflicting thoughts occupied his mind. He didn’t really remember what happened or what was said up until the time he had her pinned to the wall. Everything else was clear as Veritaserum. He remembered, “I remember,” every word, every forceful movement, every sob that left her lips. He would never forget the way she crumbled below him. He would never not feel that shame. “I scared you.”
“Don’t lie to me” he bellowed, louder than he meant to. He took a calming breath before pressing on. “I saw the look on your face. I remember the fear in your eyes. Do not tell me that I did not scare you, I know I did.”
She took one of his hands and placed it over her heart. He closed his eyes again, not trusting himself to look at her. The thought of seeing his hand on her skin again made him feel sick. “There was a moment of concern.” She paused, probably looking at him again, looking for answers. “But I trust you. I will always trust you, with every part of me.” He shook his head. She couldn’t mean that. “I’m okay.” She wasn’t. She couldn’t be. “Feel that.” Her heart beat against his hand. “I am perfectly okay. You didn’t hurt me.”
“Yes, I did.” He couldn’t believe her. He wouldn’t. He hurt her, he scared her. He knew he did. He remembered.
She slid his hand down to the breast he had grabbed yesterday. He could hear her whimpering in pain, almost expected to hear it again. “I’m okay. I want this.” She squeezed her hand on top of his. “You want this too. I’m giving it to you.” No. This wasn’t okay. It wasn’t alright that she was thinking this way. She couldn’t possibly mean it. “Please, Mas-”
“I am not your master.” He pulled his hand away from her, eyes wide. He couldn’t allow for this to continue anymore.
“But you could be. I want you to be.”
“You should go.” She needed to leave. She needed to leave before he hurt her again. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t want to last night but he did.
“Not until I please you.” She began kissing his neck, gently, lovingly.
“No, no. You can’t do this.” He gripped the armrest on both sides of him, trying to keep himself grounded. “You have to go. This is wro-” his words died when he felt her roll her hips into his. There was no stopping the groan from leaving his lips. He wasn’t fully erect, having been troubled by the entire ordeal. However, at the same time, she was straddling him half naked, telling him that she was giving herself to him. His body responded appropriately, even when his brain was trying its hardest to ignore her. “You have to stop. I don’t want this. You don’t want this.”
She looked up and tried to look him in the eyes. When he turned from her, she took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “I do want this.” She released his face and reached for both of his hands, placing both on her breasts. “You want this too, I know you do. I’m not going to force you though, I wouldn’t do that, but I want you to be honest with at least one of us.” She encouraged his hands to squeeze her breasts, same as before, but this time when she let go, she rolled her hips into him again and moaned. His body overrode his brain and squeezed her perfect breasts again. He was right, they are absolutely magnificent, absolutely perfect for him. They fit so perfectly in his hands. They were made for him, not for anyone else. He subconsciously squeezed them again and swiped a thumb across one of her nipples. She cried out softly in pleasure, but it yanked him back into reality. He pulled both of his hands from her and gripped the armrests again.
She stood up. Right as he was about to breathe out a sigh of relief, she removed her shorts. “No! No no no. You ca-”
She was straddling him again, but now he could more easily feel the warmth radiating from her. He might not have been fully erect before, but he was now. He dick could feel the warm pussy above, he wanted it. He wanted so badly to slip out his pants and right into her.
“If you aren’t going to touch me anymore, then who will?” Her hand was resting on the chair above his shoulder. “Do I pleasure myself?” Her hands slipped down between them. “Do I find someone else?” His stern gaze shot up quickly and met hers. He did not like hearing that at all. He didn’t want anyone touching her. She was his.
But she wasn't, she wasn’t his. He looked away from her again and heard a soft sigh.
She leaned in so close he could feel her breath on his neck. She started moving her hand between them. She was touching herself while straddling him. She was playing with herself while moving against his own body. The back of her hand was rubbing against his painfully restrained penis and she was making beautiful sounds, almost as heavenly as when he caused them. “Maybe I will take care of myself then,” she whispered. "It's been so long, it'll be too easy."
“Enough.” His hand shot out and stopped her from continuing. “I told you, no one touches you but me.”
“Then touch me.” He was still hesitant. He couldn’t touch her, not after last night, but he also couldn’t deny her anything. “Touch me.” She sat up a bit and placed his free hand on her breast again. “Please” she begged. His hand started moving before he made the decision to do so. He was sure to be delicate. To never hurt her again. He palmed her breast with a bit more confidence. She closed her eyes and hummed at his action. He continued to move his hand slowly, massaging her breast with as much care as he could convey. She pushed her body up and into his hand slightly, bringing her chest even closer to him. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he could not stop himself. He leaned in and kissed the skin between her breasts. He heard a soft but quick inhalation. She was surprised. So was he.
He kissed her again. “I’m so” sorry. He kissed her breast. “I didn’t” mean to. He started kissing all over the victim of his abuse from yesterday. “I would never” hurt you. He didn’t know how to apologize, but she needed to know. She needed to understand that he would never hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her the way that he did yesterday. He never wanted to be the reason she was scared. His left hand was on her lower back, holding her in place while the right was still placed between them, holding her hand. He kept kissing her. He kissed her faster, desperately switching from one breast to the other. She smiled through her gasp of surprise when his other hand began moving across the outside of her knickers. She was properly soaked. He did that. She was wet because of him. Because she wanted him. He wanted her to want him, always. He needed her to want him, only him. He would never hurt her. “I won’t” hurt you. She needed to know that. It was important that she knew that. His kisses were no longer restricted to her breast, though they always found their way back. He began kissing up her chest toward her neck. “I’m so” sorry. “Never” again. “I” promise. One kiss made it to her neck, she leaned into him, begging him for more, but he couldn’t give her that. Not yet. This was already far too intimate. He made his way back down, latching on to her breast, the one deserving of his apology. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he licked her. For months he envisioned having her in this mouth. He was never less deserving of it, but somehow it was happening. He took her nipple into his mouth and rolled it gently between his tongue and the back of his teeth. She nearly screamed, but it was the most erotic sound he had ever heard. Without even thinking about it, he lifted his hips up and pushed her down into him. He gently bit down, tugging on her nipple again as he pushed up into her.
He switched sides again, leaving open mouth kisses along the way to her other nipple. “Always'' I promise. I’ll take care of “you, always.” He moved his right hand around to her back so the left was free to take over her abandoned breast. She bucked her hips into him, begging with her body. Pleading with him to take care of her. He held her down. He could feel how wet she was through his own trousers, and he lit a fire within him. He needed her. He needed her now.
“Yes. Oh, please.” She begged. She begged for him to take care of her, but he couldn’t. Not now. Not after last night. Not without knowing.
He had been hurt before, and it caused him to make terrible decisions. She was different, he knew this and he knew that would only make it all the harder for him. He could not throw himself in like he did last time. He could not leave himself vulnerable again to be hurt. He wouldn’t. Nor would he hurt her.
They needed to stop. This needed to stop.
Both hands made their way to her hips, stopping her movements and holding her in place. He released her -lovingly- abused nipple and rested his head against her shoulder with a defeated sigh.
“No, please. No, I’m okay. I promise, I’m okay.”
He looked her in the eyes and smiled softly. “I know, but this isn’t okay.” She was about to protest, but he cut her off. “It isn’t. I shouldn’t have done what I did last night. Nor tonight. You should go.” She closed her eyes, and once again it appeared as though she was fighting off tears. He could not fathom how he came to be so vital to her happiness, even if it was only during these nights together. “You should go to sleep. There is a lot of work we need to make up.”
Chapter 12: What Happened to “Always”?
“Did you really think a simple charm like that would deter me?” He probably did. He often underestimated her, but then again, he has been known to prove his opinion of her to be correct.
“It was a rather complex ward, actually.” He stated flatly, not acknowledging how impressive it would be if she did indeed deconstruct his ‘rather complex ward’.
“And why are you setting up ‘rather complex wards’ to keep me out?” She rounded the corner of his chair and saw defeat flash across his face as she knelt down before his feet.
She looked at his hands and recalled the feeling of them on her bare back. The feeling of them massaging her breasts. She nearly moaned at the thought of him touching her again, but it was covered up by his startling words.
“We should stop.”
“What?” Her head shot up instantly, meeting his eyes. She would almost go as far as to think they looked sad. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. We should stop this. All of it.”
“Why? Everything about this is wrong
“What? What does that mean?” She truly believed she had been changing his mind. “What about this is wrong?” If only she could understand his concerns, she would be able to overcome them. Hopefully.
He looked at her as if she should be in the Janus Thickey Ward at St Mungos, as long as she was in a separate room from Lockhart. “What about this is wrong? Are you daft or are you simply ignoring the obvious?” She looked away from him, bothered by his words, and refused to answer. “I am nearly twice your age.” He continued. “I was your professor, and am now your mentor. People will think, at worst, that I took advantage of you as a child while you were in school and at best that I am taking advantage of your position as my apprentice as so many mentors have been known to do. Not to mention that I am still not widely held as acceptable company within society, whereas you are viewed as the noble heroine.” She scoffed at the last example, but he proceeded. “You might scoff, but you know it to be true. I still do not know what-”
“What happened to yesterday?” She looked back at him again, steeling herself. “What happened to “Always”? Did you not mean- Do you not want-” Her voice cut out on her. She couldn’t bring herself to speak the questions out loud. The idea that he might not want her was heartbreaking.
She didn’t realize that she had at some point climbed to her feet until she buried her face in her hands and felt her body sway. He wasn’t speaking, he was probably watching her. Observing her again.
Hermione had been certain that she was making progress. His reactions yesterday had been so raw, so passionate. Surely he had come to realize his own feelings for her as he held her. With her eyes closed, her skin still tickled from his breath as he whispered broken off apologies and promises.
He kissed her again. “I’m so-". Whatever he was, she didn’t hear, but she could sense his internal torment through his touch. He kissed her breast. “I didn’t-” kiss “I would never” kiss. She didn't need to hear the unsaid words. She knew. She knew exactly what he wanted her to know. She could hear it in the quiver of his voice, feel it through his fingers as he gripped her hip firmly to him. He would never hurt her. She knew that, she had always known that, and now he was, she hoped, coming to realize that as well.
His left hand on her lower back was firm and possessive, exactly how she expected it to be. Distracted by his frantic kissing, she gasped when suddenly his other hand began caressing the outside of her knickers. She could only imagine his elation when feeling how wet she already was from him. He did that to her. He always did. “I won’t” she heard. She wanted to tell me that she knew. That he needn’t say anything because she already knew, but she feared any response would snap him back to reality.
He began kissing her even faster, harder against her chest. He was so close to her neck now, she tilted her head to the side and leaned in, encouraging him to continue. It was no surprise when he made his way back down. He would never initiate such intimacy, not yet. One day, perhaps.
Then, all of a sudden, her world shifted. She felt his tongue caress her skin softly. Teasingly. For years she had envisioned him having his way with her, taking every last bit of her in his mouth. She couldn’t believe, especially after the day before, that he would lick her. All thought vanished when she felt his teeth graze her nipple gently. She had been trying to remain as quiet as possible, not wanting to scare him, but the sudden arousal nearly caused her to scream. He pulled down on her, and she shifted her hips down to grind on his prominent erection. This was it, this was exactly what she wanted from him. “Always'', he said. “... you, always.” She heard him.
She opened her eyes again and looked for a response. Perhaps not always then, but there was still right now, and right now she could bring immense pleasure to the wizard looking at her. If she could not have him for always, she would make sure that he would never forget tonight. “Fine.” She removed her shirt and knelt down. If he meant to argue, she deterred him when she began rubbing her palm along his increasingly hard erection. If he wanted to stop because he genuinely did not want her, she would stop, but she would not be dissuaded by futile arguments regarding society’s view on their relationship. Until he came up with a better reason, she would spend her time where she knew he wanted her.
After several minutes on her knees, Hermione pried herself off of Severus, and was delighted to hear something close to disappointment. She stood up and removed her shorts, exhilarated when she saw the fire burning in his cold eyes. Stepping up next to his chair, Hermione ran her right hand up the length of his arm. When her fingers made the way back to his hand, she took it in her own. Part of her wanted to hold his hand for as long as he allowed, but that would have brought nothing in that moment, or at least not what she wanted. So she moved his hand to rest on the back of her thigh, only slightly below her arse. “I like when you touch me, Master,” she whispered. She could have squealed when she felt his hand grip her leg firmly. She settled on smirking instead, and leaning down over the armrest. She held him in her left hand and licked up the length, from balls to tip. “I like when I can have you in my mouth.” Her voice was husky, different from normal, and she prayed he found it more sultry, seductive even. She wasn’t sure where this courage was coming from, but she needed to do something different in order to achieve different results. “I like when I feel you grab my hair,” she bobbed her head down, taking him only halfway, grazing his skin ever so lightly with her teeth on the way back up. “And, I love it” she began teasing him with the tip of her tongue, “when you take control,” she took only his tip between her lips, sucking on him like the lollipop she was forbidden to have “and make me do what you wan-”. Her words were cut off by the entirety of his cock plunging deep into her throat.
Exactly as she wanted it, he had one hand in her hair, guiding her pace as he wanted. His other hand, which had been gently touching the back of her leg, was now between her legs and two fingers were lost in her warmth. He was almost as assertive as the first few nights, whatever hesitance there was before had dissipated.
It took little time for his release to come. Unlike times before when Severus took a moment to collect himself, his attention was immediately shifted to the witch. A third finger was inserted and he began thrusting in and out at an unfamiliar pace to her. If he kept this up, there would be nothing she could do to prevent her own downfall. She has put in so much effort, trying to obey his request, but if he did not slow down, she would come undone.
Looking at him, she desperately searched for his permission and it was clear she didn’t have it. Closing her eyes and attempting to steady her breath did little for her, but relief was washed upon her when his thrusts slowed and the stimulation on her clit was finally removed.
“Eyes on me,” he growled. “I am a selfish man, Miss Granger.” He pulled her closer by the grip he had on her. It was so controlling, so demanding, so utterly arousing to be handled so forcefully by such a powerful man. “I am possessive of what I believe belongs to me.” She belonged to him. He had full possession of her heart, and he didn’t even know it yet. “I can be rather difficult, as I am sure you already know. I am stuck in my ways with little room nor want for compromise.”
“I don’t need you to compromise.” Surprised by how steady her voice was, she continued. “Not here, at least. Not with me.”
“Oh no?” He removed his fingers from her. She felt his middle finger slide back along her valley and up to fully uncharted territory. “Are you sure about this, Miss Granger?”
She felt an unexpected pressure and was almost frightened by what might come next. Obviously, inexperienced as she was, this was never something she considered. Neither of her two girl friends mentioned anything about their respective partners enjoying such a dirty affair, and as close as she was to Harry and Ron, this was never within the realm of appropriate conversation topics around the campfire.
“It’s almost not even fair to you, is it? To ask for this when I haven’t even allowed you to come. When I haven’t even fucked you properly yet.” Her attempts to stifle her moans were cast aside when his thumb began playing with her swollen clit, surely as a means to distract her from the stinging pain she felt behind her. It was impossible to know, but she had a suspicion that he barely inserted the tip of his finger into her, and the notion of any more was daunting.
Completely unable to deny her natural response to the dance his thumb was engaged in, she all but whined out a meek “Master, please.”
“What is it that you desire, Miss Granger?” She tried to respond, but little more than sounds escaped her lips. As punishment, she felt his middle finger push in slightly more. Her wide eyes met his and she couldn’t decipher the emotion he was hiding away. “Well?”
“I wa- ugh, I wa-want to please you, please, sir!”
“You already did that.” If she was not so overwhelmed by the various stimuli at hand, Hermione would have been over the moon after hearing him admit that she had pleased him. Though she was confident he did not mean it as she wanted, it was more than he had ever previously admitted.
His thumb began to increase in speed, drawing various shapes across her wet skin, sometimes pulling back to dip into her more familiar entrance while simultaneously his companion applied more pressure behind. “Why the tears? Regretting your decision to start this?” She hadn’t even known she was crying, but recognized instantly why.
“It’s difficult, so dif-difficult.”
Clearly displeased with her response, he scoffed “I told you I am a difficult man.”
Trying to make him understand was especially problematic when her brain was all clouded and fuzzy. All she could think about was how she wanted this man to finally give in and shag her, she couldn’t come up with a better response than “that isn’t what is difficult, sir.”
“Then what is?” Thinking, that’s what was difficult.
“Not allowing myself to come. I want to please you. I don’t want you to be disa- ahh hmm, disappointed in me,” she was unable to hold back any tears at this point. This was becoming more emotional than she expected and she was both mentally and physically exhausted. “But I am so close! And it has been so long,” she cried. “It’s pa-painful to not allow myself the re-release.”
"Is that what you want then?”
She whimpers a broken “I want to come.”
“Beg for it.”
“Please.” Her tears were flowing free now. She couldn’t stop them if she had tried. “Please, Master. I want to come, I- I nee- Uh! I need to come.”
“Is that all?”
“I wa- uh” She couldn’t. He asked her before, and she thought she told him, thought she made it clear until she looked back and realized how vague her answer was. “I want-” Not having been this embarrassed since the first few days, Hermione was trying to gather the courage to tell him.
He pushed his finger in deeper. “If you cannot discuss that which you desire of me, how can I trust you to handle it if it were to transpire?” Sod him for remaining so composed.
“I want- I want to-” He applied a bit more pressure. “I want you to shag me!”
There was a sense of relief. At first, she thought it was from finally admitting to her former professor and now mentor that she wanted him to shag her silly, but then she realized the lack of pressure between her cheeks. She looked up at him and knew what was coming. Shaking her head, she tried pleading with her eyes, begging him to not say it.
“Go to sleep, Miss Granger.”
“No!” She sobbed. “Please! I’ve been good, haven’t I? I’ve tried being so good for you.” She didn’t understand. She didn’t know what she was doing wrong, or what she wasn’t doing that he wanted her to do. “I said it. You told me to say it and I said it.”
“Yes, you have. You’ve been very good.” She smiled into his touch when he wiped away a few tears. “Too good.” He held the side of her face, his fingers wrapped in her hair. With her eyes closed, she felt so happy in his arms, content. Yet, with closed eyes she still knew he was about to ruin it. “Good night, Miss Granger.”
Chapter 13: Why Are You Doing This?
“Why are you so tired? Are you experiencing nightmares again?” The bags beneath her eyes had become darker over the last few days, and her skin more sallow. It was a noticeable difference between the last two days alone and it troubled Severus. It simply wouldn’t do to have a potioneer too tired to focus, something which could lead to disastrous results.
“No, sir.” Her eyes moved slowly, and he could almost see her brain taking even longer to catch up. “It’s nothing. I’ll be fine,” she continued trying to convince him. “I only need to try harder. It was my fault for losing focus.” Her curls were flung left and right as she tried to shake away the sleep.
“Why are you doing this?” Whether it was brought on by exhaustion or by the vague question, she looked at him mildly confused. “I asked you when you approached me about the apprenticeship, and I asked again a few months later. I know you were less than truthful both times, there is more to it than the shite you spewed regarding furthering your education.” He knew she wasn’t lying when he had asked, but he also knew there was more to it than she was letting on and that alone was intriguing enough for him to agree. Now though, he was still curious, perhaps more so with the last two weeks of deviant behavior, and he was no closer to getting his answer. “Why did you take on this apprenticeship when you would have been offered any job? Why put yourself through this?”
“I told you. I want to please you.” Her words were flat, but not without truth.
“No, Miss Ganger, I am not discussing that. Why did you want to apprentice under me.”
“I understood the question, sir. That is my answer.”
They had been at this for so long and neither felt like they were getting anywhere. Severus had her pinned to the wall in his library, both partially undressed. Her face was pressed lightly to the wall and her hands were held together above her head by his left. Whenever she was close to falling over the edge, he would retract his fingers and allow them a moment to roam over the rest of her.
Tonight could be the night, if only she would give him a more straightforward answer.
“Why are you doing this? Why are you putting yourself through this?”
“I told you why!” She shouted, once again in tears as she held back her release. She stomped her foot in frustration immediately after he removed his hand again.
“Is this you still always searching for the Outstanding I never gave you?” He tweaked her nipple between his fingers and she squeaked out in surprise. “Striving for it still, using any means necessary?”
“How dare you!” She yanked her arms down and away from him, turning on the spot to look him in the eyes. “I have no ulterior motive.”
“No ulterior motive? You took on a potions apprenticeship with me of all wizards, and you think I will believe that you had no ulterior motive?” He had taken a step away from her. He now had a full view of her standing there, shaking in either pure rage or unbridled sexual frustration. “You are on your knees every night trying to please me of all wizards, and you expect me to believe that you have no ulterior motive?” She looked like she could slap him. He honestly thought she was going to, but after a few calming breaths, she turned around and placed her hands back on the wall.
It was not long after that he stepped back up against her. He couldn’t deny her his touch, whether that was what she wanted or not, he wanted it. He needed it, and until she told him to stop, he wouldn’t be able to. “Tell me, what is it that you desire most? What is it that you want?” He was more soft spoken this time around, hoping to lull the answer from her.
“I want to please you.”
“That isn’t it. There must be something more.” There had to be.
“I want you.”
“To what end, Miss Granger? Once I give that for which you asked yesterday, will that satisfy your morbid curiosity? Will you leave?" ‘Me’, he almost said.
"I will never leave you!” Both stunned by her admission, Hermione looked nervously at Severus over her shoulder as he seemed rooted in place. “Not, at least, until you ask that of me."
He didn’t move. There was too much to process. He was a smart man, he knew what she was saying. What she had been saying. Frankly, he had known what she meant all along, but couldn’t accept it as true.
They stood there, awkwardly, for several minutes. Hermione must have realized that nothing would come from that night and excused herself.
Chapter 14: I Can’t Do This Anymore
When Hermione entered the library the following night, she was concerned to see Severus leaning against the mantlepiece around the fireplace. She walked right up to him, as close as she could and stared him right in the eyes.
“What do you want?” It was the same question as always, but there was something different in how he asked. He wasn’t looking for an answer, but rather asking for confirmation of the answer he already knew.
“That can’t b-”
“Severus. I want you!” Never once has Hermione spoken his name out loud, not to his face at least. “Merlin, don't you understand? I want all of you, but I know that is asking a lot. Too much even, so I would have been thankful for anything you chose to share with me. I knew I could not ask that of you two years ago, so I asked to be your apprentice, hoping it would satisfy my desire to be near you, but it only made that desire stronger. I needed to touch you, to please you. Living with you the last twenty one months has been the most incredible time of my life. Never have I ever been so deeply aroused, both intellectually and physically. However, it has also been so painfully onerous to look at you and know that you would never reciprocate any of what I am feeling, which somehow has only grown in magnitude. Sometimes- there were times when I thought I would catch a glimpse of emotion in those piercing eyes of yours, but at a second glance it would be gone and I knew that it was my own false hope leading me to see a spark of love or even lust. I so desperately yearned for either, but it was never really there, was it? I tried. I tried so hard to look pretty for you. I know I’m not beautiful, but I feel like you’re the type of man that doesn’t necessarily look for that first and maybe if I caught your attention elsewhere that my looks would be enough. That, maybe, if I could impress you enough, you would look at me differently. I tried so hard to be smart enough, but there was always something else that I didn’t know, and I tried so hard to be powerful enough, but there was always something I couldn’t do. You never looked. I always tried to keep myself together so as to not give you any reason to view me as a child still, I suppose that was the real reason I didn’t want you to know about the nightmares. I didn’t want you to think of me as a silly girl too afraid of silly memories, yet here I am crying in front of you again, all but proving I’m not worthy of you.” Hermione wiped away a few stray tears, then flattened the nonexistent wrinkles in her skirt trying to bide time to collect herself. “I would appreciate it if we could continue until the end of my term, however I know three months is a long time to deal with an awkward situation on a daily basis and I can understand your reluctance to continue, so I will leave tomorrow if you so wish.”
“No, Severus. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.” The tears have stopped, and though she was still notably saddened by the turn of events, she appeared now more dismayed and resolute. “I can’t. I’m so tired, so bloody exhausted from trying to impress you, never wanting to disappoint you. Merlin, I haven’t slept in who knows how long! Between studying and worrying, and now not even being able to relieve any of the pent up stress from being around you because you won’t let me! The infuriatingly wonderful and inappropriately salacious stress which is even worse due to my brilliant idea of seducing you. Yet another item to add to your list of my ever growing failures.” To his surprise and utter confusion, Severus heard her laughing into her hands, but quickly realized it was more in defeat than humour. “Why must you-” He heard a heavy sigh, and their eyes reconnected once more. “You make it very difficult to love you.”
She was determined to leave this time. Nothing short of a love declaration would get her to stay, not when she made a complete fool of herself. She made it halfway to the door before she heard him call out her name, but she refused to give in. “Miss Granger!” Two more steps. “Her-Hermione.” It felt like the greatest shock of her life, hearing her name. She whipped around, but he wasn’t even looking at her. He was still looking at the floor where she stood, and appeared physically uncomfortable, but she said her peace and it was his turn. His turn to be uncomfortable. His turn to be embarrassed. His turn to step up and do something about it. “When have you ever known me to allow you the last word?” He looked at her, still with no discernible expression.
“Erhm, never?” Was she supposed to ignore the fact that he called her by her first name? She’s heard him say her name, but never like this. It was always all three of her names, Hermione Jean Granger, and it was always under professional circumstances, like when he swore her in under his tutelage. That, or when he was mocking her after a particularly embarrassing article in the Daily Prophet regarding her life. Never has he ever actually addressed her as Hermione, though she supposed this was the same effect she had on him moments earlier. That was her point, after all.
“Yes, so why” he began walking over to her, “would you think it wise to walk away before hearing a response to such an illuminating monologue?”
“I, eh, I suppose I didn’t want to hear your rejection.”
He took hold of her hip and pulled her into his body. “What rejection?” In one swift motion, he second hand held her by the back of her neck and his lips crashed against her own.
Chapter 15: Epilogue
Thank you all so much for the kudos and the comments and all the love! It has truly meant the world to me knowing that so many have enjoyed reading my story. Sadly, the story is now coming to an end, but I hope you can all find a bit of pleasure in this last chapter 😘
Hermione had been in the lab for hours, attempting a complicated experiment in which she might be able to triple the size of a Wolfsbane batch without it losing any integrity. Doubling it was certainly difficult enough, but she was able to manage it eventually. The next step was clear, she needed to triple it. She knew she wasn't supposed to be in here, but she simply couldn't resist. She had a shitty week and she was unreasonably stressed out. She needed to get her mind off of everything and brewing usually helped. Besides, if she could accomplish this, something her mentor had not, she would finally be able to step outside of his shadow. She ran the numbers dozens of times, she knew she had it figured out.
She was to the left of the cauldron, cleaning up the workspace while the potion simmered for the required 23 minutes. She had been so focused on the cauldron to her right that she hadn’t heard him come back through the floo. She had not heard him come down the stairs nor enter the room. She had been so focused on the work in front of her that she completely missed the growing presence behind her. “What do you think you are doing?” She knew he was going to be upset, but hoped he would see reason.
“I finished my calculations and thought-”
“You are not supposed to be in here!”
“I’m almost done. I think I have it figured out. I needed to try! I just thought-” she paused when his hands reached around to her front and started to unbutton her shirt.
“You thought what, Ms Granger? That you could come in here whenever you please?” Her shirt fell to the floor. “What about pleasing me?” He was kissing her up and down her neck, feeling the goosebumps beneath his lips.
His tongue caressed the outside of her ear as his left hand dipped into her leggings. “I- uh- t-this isn’t a g-guh...” She wanted to tell him that this wasn’t a good time. She only had 11 minutes left before she needed to move on to the next step of the potion and she’d be damned if he got in the way.
“You still want to please me, don’t you, Ms Granger?” His fingers were already working their magic and she was close to climaxing, a few more swipes and she would come right into his hand.
“Yes.” He pulled his hand out. She should have known better. He started to push her forward, but she was able to lay on a table like she used to. “Careful! You can’t just-”
“I can do what I want.” He grabbed her hands and placed them together on the table and she felt a tingling in her palms. She didn’t need to try to move them in order to know that she wouldn’t be able to.
“Hey!” He pulled on her hips so that she had to take a step back and was then pushed down so her chest and face rested on the tabletop, her hands still stuck down on the table, not far from her head. The heat from the cauldron was close enough to burn her if she shifted accidentally. While the thought of such recklessness was arousing, the trust she had in the man to keep her safe was even more so. “Please, the potion is almost-” Everything disappeared. He vanished everything! Everything she had been working toward. “What in Godric’s name do you think you are doi-?”
“I do not appreciate your tone, Ms Granger.” He vanished the rest of her clothes. “I was going to make this good for both of us, but perhaps I will only make this good for myself if this is how you will behave.” She felt his body lean over her own, she was encased in his warmth. Not that she would dream of it, but there was a better chance of Azkaban than escaping him now. She was his. “Although, maybe after sufficient punishment, I will treat you as well, even though you have been so unbearable lately.” His fingers found her clit again and the tension in her core quickly rose as she was denied her previous release. “How many strikes do you deserve for your egregious violations?”
"Uhh…" she was already breathing heavily, making it difficult to speak. She could barely think and she already forgot what her ‘egregious violations’ were. "Five?"
"Five? Oh, no no no, I think you seriously underestimate the severity of your actions. Was I not clear that you are not to be in here unsupervised?"
"Unsupervised? Now, really. That's ridiculous. I am not a child!"
"You certainly are behaving like one, Ms Granger .” His hand removed from her, ceasing all pleasure. “Did I imagine it, or have you lost all sense of formality?"
"Ten might have sufficed before that unwarranted outburst." She rolled her eyes. Unwarranted, my as- "and you didn't answer my question, so how many shall it be now?"
"That's more like it." He stood up. “You know what to do.”
With a loud THWAP, she felt the stinging of her first strike. “One. Thank you, sir.” THWAP. “Two. Thank you, sir.” He wasn’t striking her as hard as he has in the past, and she knew why. Honestly, it was probably for the better as she was unusually sore today. THAWP! This is not what she needed though. She had been stressed all week. Everything was getting on her nerves. THWAP. “Six. Thank you, sir.” She thought brewing would take her mind off things and possibly accomplishing her goal would give her a reason to celebrate. But she was probably more anxious than when she started, and then he came and took it all away with the wave of a hand. THWAP. “Ten. Thank you, sir.” She was pissed. THWAP. She was pissed at him. THWAP. She was pissed at herself. THWAP. She wanted to cry. THWAP. She started to cry. THWAP. She couldn’t tell if it was from the pain in her ass or the accumulation of everything. THWAP. Though she knew better than to keep it all in, she couldn’t help but try to. A full breakdown was not on her books for today. THWAP. With one last strike, her resolve crumbled and she broke down.
He allowed her a moment to collect herself. “Are you ready now, Ms Granger?”
“Yes, sir.” There was no other foreplay before she felt him ram into her. It was fast and quick, and as unromantic as possible, but everything that she needed. Her climax built rapidly and she was coming undone before she had the time to process that it was happening. A few more thrust and he joined her with a satisfying grunt.
Her hands were released from the table and she stood up on wobbly legs. “Well, that was unexpected. What brought that on, Severus?”
“Do I need a reason to fuck my wife?”
"How lovely." She was unamused. “Regardless,” she closed her eyes and sighed in relief. “Thank you. I think that was exactly what I needed.”
"Yes, you seemed to be having a hard go of it lately. Speaking of which, you shouldn't be in here. You're supposed to be in bed."
"The healer said nothing of bed rest, Severus. She only said I needed to take it easyyyy-AHH." Mid word, she was scooped off her feet into her husband's arms. "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"
"You shouldn't be walking."
"Walking? Severus, I can walk one flight of stairs and down the hall!"
"No, no. I will carry you."
"My muscles need stimulation."
"I'll stimulate your muscles."
"I mean, I will massage your legs."
"That is not the same thing! They need activity, my legs need to move."
"I'll move your legs for you."
"Godric bless this child. You are going to smother this poor girl, aren't you?"
“I’ll let you smother me right now.”
“You are absolutely incorrigible.” She looked down the steps into the lab and remembered something. “You! You ruined my potion!”