He had seen it was about to happen, and had begun to rush forward with his wand drawn to try and minimize the damage. He hadn’t been fast enough, and now he was covered in the contents of Hermione Granger’s cauldron. She was surveying the damage, a distressed look on her face.
“Professor… I… How did that happen?” Hermione’s hands wiped congealed potion from her face as she stared at her cauldron and the Potions Master looked around his classroom with dismay. Surely the Gryffindor Know-It-All would not have exploded her cauldron. She had never been anything other than the perfect student, although strangely, things like this had been happening to her recently, first the spitting inkwell, then her book bag splitting of it’s own accord and scattering her books, quills and ink over the corridor, now this.
Severus Snape sighed as he heard a familiar giggling coming from underneath one of the classroom desks. With a lazy flick of his wand he shifted the desk to reveal Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode, who stopped giggling as their Potions Master cocked his eyebrow at them. Putting his nastiest scowl on his face he motioned for the two to stand.
“What did you put into Miss Granger’s cauldron?” He folded his arms carefully over his frock coat as the two girls looked at their toes silently. Severus’ scowl deepened.
“This behaviour I might expect from a first year Hufflepuff, not two seventh year Slytherins.” His eyebrow jumped upwards again. “Now tell me, what did you add to Miss Granger’s potion? Tell me NOW!”
The whole class jumped as his voice boomed across the room. Millicent Bulstrode raised her head, her eyes hovering around his chin and muttered something that only her professor heard. His eyes widened. She had added sneezewort to unfinished Felix Felicis. He hoped she had not added it just as it had started to boil, because if she had, there would be some rather serious side effects.
“Stay here, no one is to move and NO ONE is to clean any of this up… yet.” he snarled, striding across the classroom and into his office. He took a sample of the potion that was splattered on his robes before casting a quick “scourgify” on himself. Snatching a pinch of floo powder he muttered “Headmaster’s Office” and put his head into the flames.
Professor Dumbledore’s office came into view, with the old Wizard perusing an ancient looking tome at his desk. He looked up and smiled at Severus.
“Something I can do for you my boy? Shouldn’t you be in class.” Severus fought the urge to groan, he hated when Albus called him “my boy.” It just made him feel like a first year again.
“I need you in the Potions classroom. There has been an….” Severus racked his brains to think of the right word, “… incident.” Dumbledore closed his book and sat back in his chair.
“Indeed, Severus?” The old wizard played absent mindedly with a strand of his beard. “What sort of incident?” He raised his eyebrows and Severus felt like reaching out and throttling the old coot.
“A serious one, Albus. I would appreciate your presence in the potions classroom as son as possible.” With a curt nod, he pulled his head out of the flames and ran one hand through his hair. He had better go and see what other mischief his class had wrought.
Back in the classroom the seventh year Slytherins and Gryffindors seemed to be behaving well. Most had books and parchment out, quietly studying for their NEWTs. Potter and Weasley, of course, were jabbering on about Quidditch, while their bushy headed friend looked up from her Charms Textbook and tutted. Actually, Severus mused, her hair wasn’t all that bushy anymore. It had calmed somewhat over the years into soft curls that she had secured with a large tortoiseshell hairclip. It had always looked tangled in her younger days, but now her curls looked almost velvety. He wished he could touch them, feel exactly what they felt like twisting between his fingers.
Severus snorted. Silly thoughts, about a silly girl. He picked up the tray of empty vials that had been meant for the seventh years’ Felix Felicis and crossed the classroom past the Golden Trio to the store room, accidentally brushing Hermione’s hair with the back of his hand as he passed. Once inside the store room his placed the tray down and stared at the back of his hand that had touched her hair. Severus gasped. Desiderium Draught. It had to be. That was what you got if you got thus far with Felix Felicis and then added sneezewort just as the mixture started to boil. Desiderium Draught was a complex potion that used a strange and ancient magic to detect what it was that you wished for and grant it to you. Some historians thought that the old Oriental genie lamps that granted wishes were coated in a version of it. The curious thing about this potion was that it didn’t need to be ingested. Contact with the skin was enough.
Severus took a deep breath and stepped back out into the classroom, just as the Headmaster entered the room. Severus strode over to him.
“What seems to be the problem?” Dumbledore asked.
“Desiderium Draught, Headmaster. Miss Parkinson and Miss Bulstrode thought it would be funny to ruin Miss Granger’s potion. Unfortunately they added sneezewort to the Felix Felicis she was brewing… just as it was beginning to boil. The cauldron exploded and covered all of us in the substance.” The Headmaster looked at the two culprits, stood in the same place that Severus had left them, still quaking with fear.
“Severus, do you know of any antidote to this potion.” The twinkle in his eye was gone.
“None, Headmaster.” He spun around as he heard a gasp. Hermione was looking wide eyed at the dish of cherry chocolate ice cream that had appeared on top of her book. Dumbledore sighed and turned to face the class.
“The mixture that exploded all over you is Desiderium Draught.”
The class sat in silence as the Headmaster explained the effects of the Draught. Hermione looked down at the slowly melting cherry chocolate ice cream. Slowly she dipped her finger into it and put it between her lips, her favourite flavour.
Dumbledore also explained that the Draught, when made to this strength, could also bring about intense feelings of lust and he implored them to fight these urges. He didn’t want an entire class found in compromising situations in the Astronomy Tower. The paperwork it would cause would bury him for a month.
Hermione scoffed at that. No way was she silly enough to be caught up in things like that. She’d not needed men before, and she certainly wouldn’t be forced into throwing herself at someone by a potion. She moved the ice cream and turned her attention to her book.
* Desiderium - to wish
Cherry chocolate. Of course that would have been what she wished for, and was probably her favourite flavour. The cherry was sweet and innocent, but the chocolate gave it a dark undertaste. Severus let a smirk steal across his face as he lifted the glass to his lips. Hermione Granger wasn’t a little girl any more. The thoughts that he had been having over the last few months were of the woman she had become. He could just imagine her lying naked on a soft bed, stroking her breasts and beckoning to him…
He stopped himself before he could wish for something that he shouldn’t, and probably put her, and himself, in an extremely awkward situation. He put the now empty glass down and stood. It was too warm for him to be still wearing his robes. He stood and began to shed his outer layers, folding them carefully and, with a flick of his wand, putting them away. Stripped down to his shirt and trousers he sat and removed his boots and socks, putting them away, again with a wave of his wand.
His damn back was aching again. He put both hands into the small of his back and stretched, groaning as his spine creaked and cracked the aches and pains of the day out of him. He took the bottle of Armagnac from where he had left it, sat back down in the leather armchair and poured himself a generous measure.
Unbidden, that image of Hermione Granger flitted back into his mind. This time she was in his bathtub, covered in soap suds. She shook his head, trying to get the picture out of his head. The last thing he wanted to do was to wish for her here doing something... Sexual … to him. She would be horrified, disgusted, at the idea of doing anything of that nature to her evil, greasy, ugly potions master.
He couldn’t stop thinking of her. Dumbledore had said that it was a strong batch and that it would induce feelings of lust, but Severus hadn’t thought it would be anything like this. He felt himself getting hard at the idea of her taking a bath.
Suddenly he slammed his fist against the wood of the chair’s arm. He was being an idiot.
Being Head Girl had it’s perks, Hermione mused, as she sunk back into the bath. Hermione’s bathroom was a work of art. As wizarding bathrooms came, it wasn’t much, but compared to any muggle bathroom, or the bathroom she had shared with everyone else for her first six years as a student. This bathroom had a tub, again, not much by wizarding standards, but enough for Hermione. A good size tub, not with as many taps as the Prefect’s bathroom that she had used the previous year, but just enough for her. She turned off the taps that were still running and relaxed into the bubbles.
Thinking about it, she wasn’t really sure why she was taking a bath, she really had homework to do, but the warm water was lovely, and the scent of jasmine was so relaxing. She lay back, closed her eyes and let the bubbles caress her. She wished that she had a glass of wine to sip, just to make the mood even better. Mmm, yes, a lovely chilled glass of Italian white wine, a Pinot Grigio. Her favourite. She sighed, ah well, it was against the rules after all.
She opened her eyes to find a glass a third full of wine, the outside frosted by the chill of the wine, floating in front of her. She plucked the glass out of the air and took a long satisfying sip. Mmm, that was good. She let the delicious liquid slip slowly down her throat and set the glass down on the side of the bath. This was Hermione’s idea of a perfect evening in.
Severus lay on top of the sheets, sweat sticking him to the sheets and his erection tenting the silk of his pyjama bottoms. He didn’t understand how he could be so warm. He was bare-chested and he had thrown all the covers off. Absent mindedly, his hand began caressing himself through the silk, making him moan. He freed himself from the pyjama bottoms and began to stroke his shaft, imagining Hermione laying in her bed touching herself too. In his mind he saw her pump her fingers into her wet pussy, rub at her clit and pinch her own nipples in an attempt to bring herself to climax. He gasped as he moved his hand faster and faster, feeling his balls tighten up. With a strangled groan he reached his completion, spurting over his belly.
Lying alone in her room Hermione shuddered and sighed as her orgasm ripped through her, leaving her panting. She couldn’t sleep and her throat was parched. She wished she could have a glass of cold water, but the water in the taps just wasn’t cool enough. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and crossed to the dressing table. Looking into the mirror she brushed her tangled hair from her eyes.
“Come on girl, keep it together,” she muttered to herself.
“Who’s that dear?” the mirror replied sleepily. Hermione picked up the glass of cold water that had appeared in front of her, downing it so fast it almost choked her.
She would be glad when the Draught wore off. It didn’t do her any good to be kept up at night by erotic dreams of her Potions Master.
Two weeks until NEWTs. The seventh years were nervously revising every last minute. The Desiderium Draught was not helping the Gryffindor and Slytherin Potions students to concentrate in the slightest and it was showing no signs of wearing off. Hermione herself had found it extremely difficult to concentrate on her assignments and revision for two reasons. Number one, she kept having completely distracting thoughts about her potions Professor, and number two whenever she fancied something, for example a drink or a snack, it would appear hovering in front of her. She was going to have to start watching what she wished for, she had the muggle tendency to put on weight rather easily.
She got up from the book laden table in the Gryffindor common room that Harry, Ron and herself were studying at and wandered across the common room to where Crookshanks was curled up in front of the fire. Absent mindedly stroking him she yawned. She hadn’t realised quite how tired she was. It was getting late, all of the younger students had already gone to bed and there were just a few students dotted around at he tables in the common room. She waved her wand at the pile of textbooks and practise test papers that littered around her place at the table, making them stack themselves neatly and jump into her brown leather schoolbag. With a quiet “wingardium leviosa” she levitated the bag, hanging it on a hook on the wall, ready for her to start studying again on the morrow. Thanking her stars that it was Saturday tomorrow, and that she didn’t really have to get up for anything, she waved goodnight to Harry and Ron and began to climb the girls dormitory stairs. The Head Girl’s room was right at the very top of Gryffindor Tower. She trudged up the stairs, her body exhausted but her mind relatively awake.
Entering her room, she decided to pamper herself a little. Since the potion incident she had been taking a bath almost every night, something she’d not really ever done. Taking a shower was infinitely more practical than a bath, it was more efficient, wasted less water and was quicker, but she had discovered that sinking into a hot bath with bubbles at the end of a long school day was infinitely more pleasurable than jumping into the shower, it also went some way to taking her mind off the side effect of the potion. Lusting after her Potions Master felt not so bad when she was pampering herself.
The Head Girl’s room was much more luxurious than the other students’ rooms. Her bed was mahogany with deep red and gold velvet hangings, it was much bigger than the beds in the other dormitories and her comforter and pillows were rich red and gold silk. She lit the myriad of candles around the room with a wave of her wand, creating a wonderful romantic mood. She undressed quickly, hanging her robes up and throwing her shirt, underwear and socks into the laundry chute, before striding naked into the bathroom that seemed to have read her thoughts and was already running her bath. She pinned her curls up on her head and lit a stick of incense, filling the room with the scent of Japanese plum. She tested the temperature of the water with the tip of her big toe before stepping into the tub and relaxing against the side.
Her body ached all over, especially her back, from carrying her heavy schoolbag around the castle all day. She let her aches and pains seep out of her into the water as she relaxed. Images of her Potions Master crept into her mind and she let a fleeting smirk cross her face as she envisioned his hands fisted in her hair as he kissed her passionately. She let her thoughts stray to his lips, thin, but with a curve to them that was so enticing. She envisioned his lips and as she did, her tongue flicked out to wet her own. She knew that it would be very unlikely, but she wished that he would let her taste those lips someday.
She snapped out of her reverie as she felt her lips being captured in a strong, passionate kiss. A tongue slipped between her lips to caress her own and she felt hands tangling themselves in her hair. The kiss ended and she opened her eyes, only to find herself face to face with Professor Snape, still fully clothed, dripping wet and with an intense look of surprise on his face.
Severus had been enjoying a good book in his rooms. He had closed his book, put it down on the coffee table next to his armchair and stood, stretching himself out and intending to go and take a shower. The next thing he knew he was fully clothed in the Head Girl’s bathtub kissing her.
He gripped the side of the tub and pulled himself out, sending waves of soapy water cascading over the side of the tub and over the pale marble floor. He pushed his sopping hair out of his face with both hands and looked at a rather startled Hermione who was, thankfully, kept decent by the mounds of bubbles.
“Miss Granger,” he asked without meeting her gaze, “Did you wish for this?”
Hermione gulped. It was pretty obvious that she had wished for it. She closed her eyes, a blush creeping across her cheeks.
“Yes, Professor Snape, I’m afraid I did.” She looked down, waiting for the eruption of anger that was inevitable, then opened her eyes again when it didn’t come. Instead he was sitting on the stool of her vanity table, his hands kneading his forehead.
“Professor?” Hermione whispered. He looked up at her, his mask of nastiness gone. He sighed and put his head back into his hands.
“Professor?” She repeated. He sighed again.
“Miss Granger. I have been suffering from the side effects of the potion too. What I am yearning to do is expressly against school rules. Merlin only knows why, but I seem to have lost my control.” Hermione noted that his hands were shaking. She smiled, an evil thought that she could use this to her advantage snaked into her mind briefly, before she pushed it away.
“Professor, could you pass me a towel? We need to talk about this, but it’s rather difficult when I’m in the tub.” He looked up and she was holding out her hand. He turned around and found a towel rack. He pulled a bath towel from the rack and held it out to her, turning around to let her get out of the tub with some modesty. She put her hand gently on his shoulder and he turned back to her.
“Perhaps we should continue this conversation somewhere other than your bathroom, Miss Granger.” She nodded and he turned the knob on the door.
The door wouldn’t move.
The door seemed stuck. It wouldn’t move. Severus cursed, he had left his wand in his robes back in his rooms. He threw his weight against the door but to no avail.
“Ah.” He turned around at the small sound behind him. Hermione stood in the pools of water that he had caused when he had scrambled out of the tub. One arm was wrapped around herself, keeping the towel in place, the other was covering her mouth.
“What is it, Miss Granger?” Severus crossed his own arms over his soaking shirt.
“Um, I think the magic of the potion is keeping us here until you fulfil my wish. I noticed it does this when I wished for a bowl of ice cream the other day. The bowl wouldn’t go away until I ate it, then it just disappeared.”
Severus groaned. It was taking all his willpower to keep from fulfilling his own desires and being locked in this room with her was agony, especially with her clad in nothing but a towel.
“What did you wish for, Miss Granger?” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. Hermione gulped.
“ I wished I could taste your lips,” She mumbled, embarrassed, “but I thought you had already kissed me. I don’t understand why we’re still stuck in here.”
“Apparently,” Severus growled through gritted teeth, “It wasn’t enough.” He sighed. He had better get this out of the way and then get away from her before he did something that could get him fired.
He reached out his hand and stroked her cheek. Hermione shivered and gave a small gasp. Severus let his hand caress her cheek as he leaned towards her. His hair brushed her shoulders as his lips touched hers and she sank against his chest. He wrapped his arm around her waist to support her as he kissed her. She let her hands caress the back of his neck as she flicked her tongue at his lips. He moaned as she leaned into him and deepened the kiss, letting the towel drop to the floor. His back touched the bathroom door and it fell open.
Severus knew he should break the kiss and get the hell out of there, but he was unwilling to let go of the beautiful, soft fleshed woman who pulled him to her with an urgency that overcame any objections that he had. He pulled her through the door and into her bedroom. Falling back onto the silk sheets of her bed and grinding his erection into her hip.
From the way she quivered beneath him, Severus knew she had never done this before. He couldn’t just tear her virginity from her, but there was no way he could continue to deny himself the touch of this sensuous woman. He backed away from her. She sat up and looked at him, afraid that he would leave her, but he gave her a reassuring smile and simply sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace and beckoned for her to sit beside him.
Remembering that she was entirely naked, she took her robe from the back of the bathroom door and put it on, It was only a scant thing, a mere scrap of black satin, edged in silver lace and just skimming her bottom. She tied it loosely and sat down next to him, twisting to face him.
“Red or white?” he queried, his eyebrow raised.
“Red.” she replied, not really knowing what he meant, then realising when a bottle of wine and two glasses appeared in Severus’ outstretched hand.
“This ability to wish sure comes in handy.” She murmured, accepting the glass proffered to her and taking a sip of the rich dark liquid, never taking her eyes from Severus’.
Draco didn’t know what had come over him. He was a Pureblood Slytherin, and here he was playing tongue hockey with Parvati Patil. He’d always fancied her, who wouldn’t, with her deep brown eyes and silky black hair, it was just that before he would never have sullied himself by actually indulging that crush. He pulled away and stood up. Parvati looked up at him, her hair ruffled and her lips swollen.
“What’s wrong, Draco?” Her eyes were heavy with passion as she looked up at him. He groaned quietly.
“Must be the sodding potion,” he said, before pulling her up into his chest and kissing her, even more passionately than before.
Severus wriggled uncomfortably in his wet clothes. His hair and shirt were drying slowly from the heat of the fire in front of him, but the wool of his pants was still sodden. He set his glass down, closed his eyes and wished. His mahogany wand appeared in his outstretched hand. He quickly waved it and sighed with relief as the soggy feeling disappeared. He opened his eyes to find Hermione looking at him with a strange look on his face.
“Just drying myself off.” He shrugged at her as he slipped the wand into his pocket and picked up his glass. He turned to face the fire as he sipped at the wine. He had been keeping himself in check for too long and he needed her. She had set her empty glass down and it had vanished. He tipped the glass back and swallowed the remains of the rich liquid, the sediment making swirling patterns up the side of the glass. Setting it down, he slid across the sofa until he was almost on top of her. She lay back against the cushions and let her head fall back. He growled and licked his lips on seeing the exposed flesh of her neck and began to kiss it softly, relishing her gasps and whimpers of pleasure. Propping himself up with one arm he pulled her close into his chest with the other.
Breaking away from her throat he pulled away and stood up, slowly freeing his shirt tails from his belt. Hermione stood also and put her hands over his.
“Let me,” she whispered as her hands pulled the fabric loose. She pushed her hands up under the shirt and ran her hands over his belly, feeling the hardened muscle softened by the soft sprinkling of hair. Taking her hands out from his shirt, she stood on tiptoe to unbutton the top buttons, slowly making her way down his torso. When the shirt was fully open she rose up on tiptoe again to push it over his shoulders, letting the delicate fabric flutter to the ground. She didn’t notice. She was already attacking the big silver buckle of his belt. It hit the floor with a thud as she began to furiously unbutton his pants.
Then they were kissing. It was hot and passionate, they clung to each other as their bodies entwined. Not breaking the kiss, Severus began to walk backwards. Hermione walked backwards with him until she felt the bed against the back of her thighs. Slowly, Severus lay her down on the soft silk of the covers, his hand slipping up her soft, smooth leg, underneath her robe to stroke her hip. She stroked down his back coming to rest at the waistband of his boxers. Her finger stroked the rough cotton as she wriggled against him, trying to get more contact with him. Severus moaned as he felt her moving.
He took his hand from her hip and began to wriggle out of his boxers, not taking his lips from hers. Hermione couldn’t believe how good he tasted, of the wine and something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. His hair was silky and fine, not greasy, and he smelled of sandalwood. She knotted her fingers into his hair to pull him closer as his hands, finished with his boxers, moved to the knot of her robe and tugged it loose.
Severus pulled away and stood up. He was completely naked and Hermione’s eyes widened at the sight of him. He was powerfully muscled and scars tore across his pale flesh. His chest was scattered with sparse black hairs, a line of them running down his belly. She followed them downwards and her eyes widened in fear. How was that supposed to fit into her without tearing her in two.
Severus noticed the fear in her eyes and smiled. He leaned forward so that he was propping himself up, one hand on either side of her waist, and brought his face close to hers.
“Do I scare you?” he whispered. Hermione gulped, not taking her eyes from his.
“No!” Her voice came out as a breathy noise. His smile widened and his eyebrow shot upwards.
“Do you want me to?” He began to chuckle, a rich, deep noise from within his chest.
Draco didn’t know what had come over him. First he was screwing around with Parvati, now he was actually being nice to Potty and the Weasel, something he’d never dreamed of, and even more astonishingly, they were being nice to him. They all sat together in the Three Broomsticks, Butterbeers in hand, chatting amiably. There were no hissed insults, no raised voices, no hexes or curses, just friendship.
Draco was a sensitive soul really. Since Harry had defeated Voldemort and his father had been killed, he had lost his impetus for nastiness. Deep down, he mused as he supped at his drink, he’d always wished he was part of their cosy little gang. Now the Desiderium Draught had seen to it. He supposed that once the draught wore off, they’d go back to hurling hexes at each other, just as easily as they’d fling insults, but for now, he was enjoying their friendship.
Parvati rested her head on his shoulder, tired after their exertions. Draco put his arm around her shoulders and lifted the bottle to his lips.
“So,” Ron broke his musings, “Wonder where Hermione is. I’ve not seen her at all since classes ended today. She’s usually working in the common room, but she’s not there today.”
“Probably having a girlie night, Ron,” Harry had his arm lazily around Ginny, “let her be, it’s Friday night after all!”
Ron sipped at his Butterbeer. All three boys had ended up with someone. Ron had spent the earlier part of the evening having passionate sex with his better half. The only problem was, he didn’t know how the other two would take it. Ron had known since fourth year that he was different to Harry. He was gay.
Gay, but not exactly proud of it and most definitely still very much in the closet. His mother was very big on family, and kept asking if he had a girlfriend. Bill was married to Fleur and they had their first child on the way, a fact that Molly was inordinately proud of. Charlie was living with his girlfriend in Romania, Fred and George had girlfriends, even Ginny had Harry. He had Blaise Zabini, and he doubted that his mother would take it very well.
Hermione whimpered as Severus’ fingers began to stroke lower and lower. She had never felt anything like this. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and her breath caught in her throat. His fingers left tingling trails down her belly and hips as he stroked her skin. His breath was hot on her breasts. She bucked her hips up towards him and whimpered with desire as he pulled ever so slightly away from her and chuckled.
He stood back from her and watched. There she lay with her chestnut curls spread out, all tangled where he had run his hands through them. Her robe was open, exposing her to him. He noticed that her arms edged to cover herself up.
Silently he motioned for her to stand. She did as she was bidden and Severus pushed the robe from her body almost in the same motion that he knelt down. His lips explored her stomach as his fingers dug into her hips, pulling her close. Suddenly his tongue darted out to invade her belly button.
Hermione gasped for what seemed the hundredth time that night as she felt his wet muscle tasting her. He put pressure on her hips, moving her backwards, before picking her up and flinging her down onto the red silk of the bed. He covered her body with his, kissing her passionately and grinding his hardness into her thigh.
Severus rubbed at her nub with his fingertip. She was so wet, he didn’t need to wait, so he put the his tip against her and kissed her as he inched into her. Slowly he pushed completely into her, feeling her tense up around him, unused to the sensations. He stopped moving and gently laid kisses along her collarbone, letting her get accustomed to having him within her. Hermione’s breathing was ragged and hot against him. Just the feeling of her squirming against him, her soft fingertips pawing at his back, sent his mind and body into overdrive. He let go of his senses, willing time to stop so he could revel in the feel of her until the end of time.
“Move, Severus, please!” Hermione’s voice came out as a whimper, jolting him out of his reverie. He smiled down at her and his lips found hers as he began to move, ever so slowly, within her. Hermione let all the frustration that had built up within her since the Desiderium Draught had started all this out as a moan. Severus felt heavenly inside her.
As he thrust into her, Severus took his time. He kept telling himself that this was just the Draught’s side effects causing them both to lose control like this. He kept telling himself to take his time, that this might well be the one and only time he had her in his arms, the only time he would be able to kiss her. His body was longing to send control out of the window, to bring them both to completion, but he daren’t. That would mean it would be over, and he didn’t want to go.
Hermione’s moans urged him on, he could feel her clenching around him, her nails digging into his back, her breath hotter and more ragged than it had been before. Severus kept his pace agonisingly slow, feeling his release building until Hermione’s moans told him that she could take it no more. He quickened his pace and soon felt her trembling around him, his name falling from her lips over and over, calling him to completion. With a half strangled howl he slumped forwards, gathering her in his arms., He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. Holding her to his chest he crooked his finger and the bedcovers tugged themselves out from under them and covered them up.
Severus woke early to find himself completely alone in Hermione’s bed. He could smell her on the sheets and on himself. Sounds of running water and singing came from the bathroom. He eased himself up, feeling muscles that he hadn’t felt in years protest. He leant down and retrieved his pants from where they had fallen the previous night and slipped them on, not bothering with boxers, socks or shirt. He pulled his belt out from it’s loops and coiled it, playing absent mindedly with the big silver buckle.
Hermione turned the water off and reached for one of the big, soft towels. Her hair lay sopping wet down her back. She crossed to the sink and wrung the excess water out before casting a drying spell on it and pinning it haphazardly on her head. Quickly towelling herself off she loosely tied her bathrobe and pushed open the door to find Severus seated at the table, a pot of hot coffee and a tray of toast in front of him, clad only in his black trousers. Hermione licked her lips at this sight. His trousers hung low on his waist due to the absence of a belt and it showed off his delicious chest. Hermione didn’t take her eyes from his as she slipped into his lap.
As they lay together in their bed, Severus planted a kiss on his wife’s forehead. She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. They had been married for a year. No way did it feel so long.
Hermione jerked up as a deep chuckle began to shake Severus’ chest. It grew from a giggle into a hearty, booming laugh. Hermione sat upright, crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow, a trait she had learned from her husband. She waited until he had finished laughing before speaking,
“What’s so funny?” Severus struggled to rearrange his features.
“I was just thinking, love.” He reached out and pulled her back down onto his chest. “We wouldn’t be here if those two silly girls hadn’t blown up that cauldron of yours.”
Now it was Hermione’s turn to giggle.
“Well, the gods work in mysterious ways!!”