FicWad

Word Count: approximately 6,700 this section
Warnings: humiliation, angst, dirty talk, light bondage
Authors notes: underscores _ denote thoughts

Dealing


DISCLAIMER: The HP sandbox belongs to JK Rowling. Some of us just like to play in it from time to time.


"So... he's gone. Finito."

"Good riddance." His tone was troubled, though, and Hermione put a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at her.

"I'm sorry, Severus. I know he was once your friend."

"No. It's not Lucius that bothers me." He sighed, eyes filling and he drank a bit more brandy.

They were sitting at his kitchen table now, McGonagall having gotten Hermione the promised wand as well as the requested book that same afternoon and left them along with the latest Daily Prophet.

Well versed already in the basics, Hermione had rapidly read through the index of the book, and then managed to master the basic bone-knitting spell with ease, testing it on his broken fingers, first. When that seemed to work, she'd applied it to the rest of his partly healed fractures.

The spell seemed to work well enough. At least, he'd been able to stand and totter about his bedroom for a bit, before staggering and limping his way to the bathroom under his own steam. With her help he'd made his way downstairs. Another week of use and his muscles, bones and tendons would resume their normal condition.

His arm was also working now, although they could do nothing about his dislocated shoulder that he still had tied to his side.

"I'm sorry about Draco, too. He wasn't... nice. But he didn't deserve to be murdered by his own father."

Severus sighed and drank a bit more brandy.

"Would you like some shepherd's pie? There's still some left over."

"I'm fine."

"I--"

"I said I'm fine, Hermione. I don't need a nursemaid." He looked up at her. "In fact, it might be time for you to be goin--"

"I can't do that," she rapidly asserted. "For one thing, despite whatever you may think you can do, Severus, with your barely healed limbs, you are still in my care and you're still concussed. You've only been lucid for a few days and are currently prone to headaches, anxiety attacks and severe nightmares."

"Obviously, you do not know me at all."

Hermione ignored this. "And for another, Minerva did not give either of us permission to leave here. If you didn't notice, she did not get you a wand."

"I noticed."

"She knows what a stubborn man you are. And she cares for you! She doesn't want you going out and getting yourself killed. Just because Lucius Malfoy has been caught, doesn't mean there aren't others out there who wouldn't love to brag that they brought you down."

He sat back, looking at her incredulously.

"Are you quite through?"

She considered this, and then nodded. "Yes."

"Then, if you'd allow me to finish, I was not suggesting you leave this house. Merely that you leave me here to drink in peace."

"But you said it might be time for me to be going," she said softly, a look of hurt in her eyes.

"No. I hadn't finished. I was going to say that it might be time for you to be going to /bed/."

"Oh."

She looked troubled, eyed the brandy and finally nodded.

"Just... call if you need me." She got up and went down the hall and upstairs.





"You should really take a Nurofen."

"I'm fine!"

"What you are is hung over, you stubborn idiot."

"Then leave me be."

"You're in my care. How am I supposed to do that?"

"Fine," he whispered waspishly. "Then shut the bloody hell up and let me suffer in peace."

She stomped out of the room and he groaned.



He was dozing when she stomped back in half an hour later and he opened one crusty eye to look at her. "Wha--?"

"Levodolorus!

He gasped, first at her raised voice which he thought might spear right through his throbbing head, then at the sensation of tingling magic sparkling about his brain... or at least that's what it felt like. Each dying sparkle seemed to dissipate more and more pain until he was left feeling wondrously dazed and pain-free.

"Chapter 12. Pain mitigation," she said, then threw the book at him before stomping back out.


"Ow."





When she didn't come down at the smell of coffee or bangers, he called up that dinner was ready, but she remained in the tiny room that used to be his own room as a boy, door resolutely closed.

The door wouldn't lock, he knew, but then she was a witch and she had a wand, and Severus Snape was many things, but he was not stupid. He would not breach her solitude.



When she didn't come down for supper, either, he fumed.

Bloody witch! First she was in his face every moment, then...

_So why do I miss her now? Why do I want her to come down here? She was with me all the bloody time; I couldn't even fart without her knowing about it! Why should I care she doesn't want to see me now? Why do I want her down here? Just so I can see her beautiful face?_

Severus frowned at himself, then closed his eyes and swallowed, nearly choking on his food.

_Oh, that's just sodding brilliant. Now I've gone and bloody well fallen for the girl..._





He was dozy, having tried to turn onto his still painful shoulder in his sleep and woken to fuss over his position in bed when he heard the sound.

It was... thin. It sounded like kittens, or maybe the squeak of an equally small and helpless animal.

He hefted himself up, clad only in his faded boxers in deference to the heat, and moved down the hall to that oh-so-familiar room.

The sound got louder. She was whimpering.

He hurried forward and tried the door, which opened, to his surprise.

She was asleep, curled up on the small bed he remembered so well and had hated so much, and her face was crinkled with pain.

He bent, then squatted, groaning slightly at the pain and creaking from forcing his still not fully healed joints and muscles into configurations they hadn't taken in weeks. He lifted up his one good hand to stroke her face.

"Hermione."

She started, eyes opening and looking about before seeing his worried face.

"You were dreaming," he said softly.

She nodded, sitting up, then to his chagrin, began to weep, putting her face in her hands. Something in his chest suddenly felt like it was crumbling into his stomach.

He lurched forward a bit and managed to sit next to her. Before he could reach for her, she wrapped herself around his neck, holding him tightly. She was unmindful of his bad shoulder, but he said nothing, merely slipping his good arm around her and holding her.

"It's all right. It's only a dream."

She nodded, but kept crying and he sighed, gently rubbing her back with his hand.

The scent of her hair filled his sensitive nostrils, and the feel of her warm, resilient body against him made his head swim a bit. He could feel himself hardening.

"It's all right. Whatever it was, it's over," he whispered.

"No, it's not," she sobbed, then pulled back a bit. He let her. "I spent all this time caring for you and... and... then you told me to leave you a-alone..."

"I'm an ungrateful berk," he murmured, eyeing her. "An unmitigated lout who, you thought, had the temerity to throw you out without even thanking you for all you've done, all of you've had to endure."

She considered this, a little surprised at first, and then her lips quirked a bit in something like a tentative smile. "Well... yes."

He nodded, then reached up a hand to stroke back the hair from her face.

"I'm also a bloody fool, Hermione, a scared, overly proud, rapidly aging, bloody, stupid fool with addled brains to boot. You've done so much--"

He stopped to swallow past his tight throat himself and finally said simply, "Thank you. Thank you for everything you've done, and... please... forgive me."

She stared, swallowing hard. "Only if you let me remind you in future that you said that first."

To her astonishment, he took her hand in his and kissed it. "Done."

To his own astonishment, she took his face in her hands and began to kiss him.

Done indeed, he thought, before succumbing to the far fairer sex. Well done, in fact.



"Why does that hair brush bother you?" she whispered some time later, after a lengthy snogging session that had only ended after he started wincing in pain from his still-healing shoulder and she'd insisted they lay side by side.

He stilled beside her in the dimness.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't ask, I know, but--"

"No. You should. You've earned the right. I should... bloody be able to discuss these things. It's just... difficult."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"Don't give me an out, Hermione. I'm a Slytherin. I'll probably take it."

She smiled her broken smile at him. "All right, then. How about... I'll be patient?"

"That will be the day."

She mock-swatted him. "So then tell me, you great oaf."

Severus inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.

"That b-brush... my father used to use that b-b-bloody brush on me," he managed to say through grit teeth.

That was as far as he got before Hermione began to kiss him. As a distraction, he thought, it wasn't bad.

"I'm so sorry, Severus."

"It was a long time ago," he managed to say through a tight throat.

"The brain remembers. To the brain it was an instant and there it is, recalled. That's why memories can be so painful, so harmful."

"You really are the brightest witch I've ever known," he murmured.

"Just how many witches have you known? And not in the way you know Minerva or Molly."

He stilled and she watched him, her expression guileless.

"Not as many as you might think."

"Men! I'll go first then. I was married, as you know. And there was Viktor. That is the sum total of my experience."

"Viktor? Viktor Krum?"

"Yes." She sighed, blushing a bit. "He came to the funeral. We talked. He..."

"He offered you sympathy and a pity shag."

Hermione swatted him again and he winced.

"Sorry, but that was just rude."

"Is it true, though?"

She sighed again, and finally nodded. "Yes. It was only the once. I... I felt so awful, so guilty."

"He must have been very good," Severus murmured, and she stared at him. He arched his brows. "I'm only saying he must have been skilled enough to sweep you off your feet when you were grieving and... well, help you forget."

She blushed. "Well, there is that, but..."

"But what?"

"It just seems rather disrespectful."

"I'm quite sure your husband would have wanted you to go on living, not to bury yourself in books and busy-making tasks to the end of your days."

She nodded. "Yes, he would."

"There you go."

"Yes. And there you go. You're making me try to forget that you didn't answer the question, and I asked you first."

Severus lay back and contemplated the ceiling. He had not done so in quite a long time. It was scored with hex marks.

"Do women of ill repute count?"

Hermione considered this seriously, then shook her head. "Not really, no. I've nothing against prostitution, as I believe a person should have the right to say what they wish to do with their own body. However, the people who use them are, well, simply using them. For release. It's no more romantic or a basis for a relationship than any other cash transaction."

"Interesting way of looking at it."

"Well, you asked."

"Yes." He shifted to his good shoulder and looked at her seriously. "Then, by your definition, Hermione, I am still a virgin."

Her mouth fell open and when she said nothing, he found himself blushing. Irritated and blushing.

"You'll catch flies," he finally muttered, before she was able to break out of her stunned state.

"Sorry! It's just... it's hard to believe."

"Is it?"

"Well, you hear rumours about Death Eater gatherings. There are rapes in the news. Rumours of orgies and the like."

His jaw clenched. "So do I take it that you think rape qualifies?"

"No! That's neither what I said nor what I meant. What I'm getting at is that one hears these things and one thinks that if someone is a Death Eater then he or she must have--"

"Raped and murdered and taken part in orgies?"

"Well, yes. Even if the reality is far more mundane."

"Mundane."

She nodded, waiting, and to her astonishment his eyes screwed shut tight and he drew in a shaky breath.

"Then let me set the record straight for you, and only for you, and never again." He sat up and stared at the dresser as he spoke. "Yes. The Death Eaters burned and razed and destroyed Muggle homes and even Wizard homes they felt were disloyal. There were no orgies that I ever saw or was invited to. While I'm sure there were, indeed, rapes, the only one I witnessed was the punishment of a newly initiated Death Eater that got out of hand.

"The Dark Lord had promised us better-- better positions in society, a better way to live. That incident, and the fact the boy killed himself afterward out of shame, is what made me realize he lied. It was no better; it was the same sort of ugliness I'd seen all along, even worse. That was what made me turn from His service. I didn't want the next one so punished to be me. I couldn't bear the thought of... of having to live through such a humiliating indignity. I had enough humiliation growing up. So you see, when I defected, I was literally worried about saving my own arse."

He looked at her now through black tangles of hair and added in a fierce whisper, "So you, Hermione, being the only one to clap eyes on same since I was a boy -- tell me -- was it worth saving?"

She studied him. He held her gaze even when silent, angry tears began to drip down his cheeks, and she finally nodded decisively.

"Yes. The only thing more beautiful, in my opinion, is your soul, Severus."

Then she took his face in her hands and kissed him, and as he began to weep, she held him tightly.

"Thank God you saved that. Thank God."





It was the music that woke him up, that, and the worrisome sensation of warm, damp softness dragging over his bare chest.

He opened his eyes and the memories flooded in, much as they hadn't been doing the last few weeks. It made him wince in anticipation of a headache, but there was none.

The music remained, however, and he soon realized the neighbours had their wireless on again, this time it was playing a very old song indeed, a romantic tune from his mother's era.

The other thing that remained was the warm damp sensation that was now nuzzling his nipple and making him gasp.

"Hermione."

"Mm. You taste /good/."

"Hermione!" He grasped at the bedcovers with his good hand; feeling his morning erection pressing against his boxers and throbbing with each cautious lick she was giving his chest.

"Good morning," she murmured dreamily, continuing to lick across to the other nipple.

"Oh! Yes. Good morning, indeed."

"My, I see someone else is up today," she said brightly, before taking him firmly in hand.

Severus groaned. She was naked, he noted, before groaning again.

"He really is quite the morning fellow, as I've learned. Quite an impressive chap, too."

"Hermione, please."

"A request! What would you like, Mr. Snape? Coffee? Tea? A roaring good shag?"

He gasped as she stroked him through his boxers.

"I'm wet as a faucet, Severus. Do you know what I want?"

He could only stare as she stroked and then gasp as she dragged her other hand down between her own legs and touched herself. Then she waved that hand under his nose, letting him smell her sweet, fragrant musk and his head swam. He hoped that wasn't the concussion.

"Well, at least one part of you is sensible enough to know what it wants," she murmured.

He grabbed her then with his one good hand and brought her to him, kissing her hard.

It was awkward when he couldn't use one arm, but he finally managed to get them both positioned. Unfortunately, this meant he was holding himself up with his one good hand and his cock was trapped in his boxers.

"Allow me." She reached down and pushed his waistband down, releasing his rampant erection. She stroked him gently and he clenched his teeth, then winced; his jaw was still not fully healed, either.

"Hermione. Please."

She reached one hand up to stroke his face and then manoeuvred beneath him to place him at her entrance.

"Ready when you are, love."

He nodded, starting to sweat and gently pushed forward.

"Oh, God."

He could feel her wet heat gently encase the head of his prick. The sensation nearly made him hyperventilate.

"It's all right, love. You won't hurt me."

He thrust then and felt himself slide deep into her depths. It was snug and as wet as she claimed and really quite heavenly.

"God, you feel good!" she exclaimed, throwing her head back. "I love your prick, Severus. I knew it would feel... wonderful."

He groaned and began to thrust in earnest, wishing he had two free hands so at least one could touch those beautiful breasts. He angled himself a little so he could take one in his mouth.

The soft pink nipple hardened under his ministrations and he felt her arms slip around him, nails urging him on. He sucked on it, and then turned his attention to the other one. Merlin, but she was beautiful.

"Severus! Oh, fuck, Severus! /Fuck/!"

The sound of her losing control made him stiffen. He felt her spasm, tighten around him, then shudder and he felt his scrotum tighten almost painfully. Soon he was shooting convulsively within her, fighting to keep enough sense to fall to the side and keep his weight off of her.

He just managed to do that.

Unfortunately, he misjudged the bed and landed on the floor.



"Just hold still."

"That hurts."

"It's going to hurt more."

"Then what is the incentive to hold still?"

"Do you want to retain full use of that arm?"

He scowled and then screamed as she slipped his other shoulder back into place. Fortunately, Hermione had considered this possibility and put silencing charms up first.

She eyed the pain-filled eyes of her newfound lover and sighed. She idly cast the pain mitigation charm on his shoulder and murmured, "I'd best read the book to figure out how to fix the other one. It's been healing naturally and I don't dare try that manoeuvre on it, as well."

"Thank heavens you're a mediwitch." He muttered, earning himself one of those quirky smiles. "Otherwise, our sex life could kill me."

She pursed her lips and mock-smacked at his head as she bent over the bed, still naked, to rummage for the book. She idly waved her wand toward the walls, taking the silencing charms down. Then she began to peruse the healer's manual.

As punishments went, Severus thought, staring up at her bent over naked from his position on the floor, this wasn't bad. The sight of her glistening pudenda was incredibly arousing.

"This is really quite fascinating," she muttered.

"I'd say it was glorious."

"Hm?"

"Go on."

"Well, I'll have to practice a bit, but... we have time."

"We do, indeed," he agreed, still sitting on the floor and gazing at her nether lips.

She glanced back then to notice his expression, frowned and turned around, only to see his huge erection.

"You have that despite a recently dislocated shoulder and the pain of resetting it?"

"I had help," he managed to say with a sheepish expression.

"Severus Snape, so help me if I didn't love you so much, I might well strangle you."

"Good thing I'm so lovable." He smirked up at her. "Ow!"





"You're not a bad cook yourself, you know."

"This isn't cooking. It's bachelor's hash."

"You had to make rice, you had to open the tins, and you had to chop the herbs and onions and all."

"I was just grateful to have full use of both my arms again. If I were at work, I'd have brewed some potion. Since I'm here, I cooked." He lifted his wineglass to her. "You're going to be a wonderful mediwitch, Hermione. Mainly because you already are."

"Thank you. And I still think this is quite special. It may be from cans, but you knew how to throw it all together so it would be not just edible, but tasty. It's near enough to cooking as makes no difference."

"It's not like your cooking. You know how to cook a damn chicken. I'd burn the bloody thing trying to figure out how."

"Well, I still love it."

"You wouldn't if that's all you ate for days on end."

"Seriously?"

"Well, in between bowls of porridge, toast, boiled eggs, bangers, chips, and veritable gallons of coffee and tea."

"Sounds marvelous."

"You are really a very strange and wondrous girl, Hermione."

"Thank you, Severus. You are really a wonder yourself, you know."

"No. I don't."

"Well, you will."



"Oh, fuck!"

"God, yes!"

"Hermione!"

"Severus!"

"Oh, fuck me!"

"Yes!"

"Fuck me!"

"Yes!"

"FUCK ME!"

"SEVERUS!"

"FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!"

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, WOULD YE FUCK THE SODDING BASTARD, GIRL, SO THE REST OF US CAN GET SOME BLOODY SLEEP?!! SOME OF US HAVE TO WORK TOMORROW, YE KNOW!!!




"Well, that was humiliating."

"If you say so."

"You don't?"

He rolled his eyes. "If it pleases you -- welcome to the Humiliation club. The queue starts to the left."

"What's that supposed to mean? You didn't find that embarrassing?"

"Well, frankly, my dear, having the neighbours learn that I'm a normal, healthy man with a sexual appetite and a willing partner is hardly humiliating to me."

"So what is?"

He turned to look at her archly.

"Having you hold my prick whilst I moved my bowels springs to mind."

"Oh."

"Followed by having you wipe my arse," he murmured, flushing.

Hermione nodded, then shrugged. "Really, though, that's just part of nursing a patient. At least, Muggle style. If I'd my wand I could have levitated you to the toilet."

"Yes, where you'd have to levitate my naked arse onto the bowl and then levitate me back up when I was done and then scourgify my arse and bits. No, not humiliating at all!"

"Well, what do you expect?" She sneered back, annoyed. "Should I do it without looking? If I did it blindly I'd probably hang you upside down instead and then scourgify your mouth out instead of your arse! Maybe you'd prefer /that/?!"

He turned stark white, glared furiously at her, and then stalked out of the room.





When he didn't come down for breakfast, she didn't worry. Let him fume, she thought, and ate her oatmeal and drank her tea and read her book in peace.



When he didn't come down for dinner, she sighed. Well, he was a grown man, and he was no longer invalid. If he wanted dinner, he could bloody well come down or else fix his own dinner later.



When he didn't come down for tea, she marched up the stairs and began pounding on the door.

"Severus Snape, you answer me right now!"

To her astonishment, the door scraped open after a moment and he loomed over her, nearly empty brandy bottle in hand, looking, for all intents and purposes, piss drunk.

"Yes, Miss H-Hermione? What c-can I do for you? Sex, p'haps? Or wou' you like me to f-fall on my arse a-and break somethin'? You cou' fix it. Maybe I can piss on myself and you can wash me agin? Like that, would'n you?" He swayed, then leered. "Come t'think on it... mebbe I'd l-like that, too. You can wash m'big prick."

Hermione drew in a breath, pulled out her wand, waving it at him in a circular motion, and intoned, "Clarus Madidus!"

Snape shuddered as the sobering spell took full effect.

"Bloody--" he lurched to the toilet and she could hear him being sick. She waited.

The toilet flushed and the taps opened, and then shut off a few minutes later. Soon he appeared in the door, eyes red-rimmed and a little fearful.

"Hermione."

"If you're quite through feeling sorry for yourself, I put some ruddy tea out." She burst into tears and rushed to her room, slamming the door.

"...shit."



He didn't bother knocking. He couldn't bear to hear the sounds of her weeping. He felt like a part of him was dying as he heard her cry.

"Hermione."

"Just go away!"

"Hermione? Please let me apologize."

"For what? Getting drunk? You're a grown man; you can get drunk if you want. For feeling sorry for yourself? Well, that is asinine, but who am I to tell you what to do? No one, apparently." She sobbed the last bit out and buried her face in her hands again.

He swallowed, and then went to her, sat by her, pulled her into him. It made the part of him dying inside feel immeasurably better.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

She sniffed.

"You aren't no one. You've become the most important person in my life, Hermione. You saved me, helped me, healed me. I'm an idiot -- raking over old coals, trying to find a spark to start a blaze and I don't even know why. There should be nothing there to light anymore."

She issued a shuddery sigh, then pulled back from him.

"Tell me, then. Tell me what I said or did. Yell at me if you must, but don't just walk away from me and drink yourself insensible. What good does that do?"

He sighed, too.

"I think ... maybe ... that I was trying to forget."

"Go on."

He gave her a thin smile. "Stupid concussion. I know I've forgotten all sorts of things, but why didn't I forget the bad ones?"

She eyed him evenly. "Maybe it's a defense mechanism. The brain holds onto the unpleasant associations, because those are the ones that hurt us, and it's more important to remember what hurt us so it won't hurt us again."

He considered this, and then drew her to him again, holding her tightly. "Oh, Hermione. You really are a miracle."

"Honestly, Severus." But she smiled into his shoulder before pulling back to study him. She stroked his beloved face. "What is it, love? What is it that hurt you?"

"Where should I start?" he asked her earnestly. "With childhood and work my way forward? Or my miserable recovery of late and work my way back?"

"Why not start with whatever it was I said or did that made you close yourself up in your room and start trying to pickle yourself?"

He eyed her with a touch of suspicion, she noted, wondering why.

"Potter never told you, then?"

"Told me what?"

He coloured slightly. "A-about the, um, Pensieve incident?"

She frowned. "Harry did tell me you'd caught him looking at your Pensieve. He said it was why you stopped teaching him Occlumency. I told him that was a terrible breach of privacy, but he never told me what he saw, no."

"Oh."

He stood then, and went to the window, facing away from her.

"Then even more fool I. I... I thought you were referring to the Pensieve memory earlier. It... It stung a bit."

Hermione thought privately that it must have stung a hell of a lot, but only said, "I think you'd better tell me."

He nodded. "It's quite stupid really. I was 15. It was the afternoon after we'd taken our OWLs."

"Go on."

"I should have walked some other way. I knew the Gryffindors liked to lie in wait for Slytherins, especially me, but I wanted to sit by the lake. I wanted to relax. I'd just taken my OWLs and my brain felt... frazzled. I needed a change of scenery.

"So I went outside and James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew all cornered me. Lupin was there, but per usual, he did nothing. He was a prefect, but he let them harass me. They took my wand, knocked me off my feet, filled my mouth with soap. He did nothing."

Hermione sighed, shaking her head.

"Potter had been showing off to impress some girls. They were there, Lily among them. When he started to harass me, a crowd began to gather. Lily told him to stop. While she talked, they forgot me and I was able to get my wand. I should have gone away, but I was angry. I tried to hex Potter, but my hex only glanced him and he was able to fire back. He hung me upside down." He paused, voice growing tighter still. "As you can see by this house, I wasn't exactly a wealthy student. I wore my father's hand-me-downs, including his underwear. The others all laughed. They thought it was funny, me hanging there with my robes in my face, my tatty underwear displayed for all to gawk at."

"Oh, Severus..."

"She told them to put me down, and Potter would do anything so long as she asked, so he did. I might have gone, but he had to say I was lucky, that I should be grateful she had interfered. Instead, I cursed at her. I called her a Mudblood. All I could think was how bloody humiliated I felt."

"That's understandable," she said quietly.

"There was quite a crowd gathered by that time. Potter tried to get me to apologize, but he'd cast Petrificus Totalus on me. I couldn't exactly talk. She didn't want an apology, though, and she left me to their 'merciful' attentions."

He clutched at the dresser so hard the wood creaked.

"They soon had me hanging upside down again, mouth full of soap, unable to move. This time ... he cast my pants into the lake."

"Severus!"

"Then he cast me in there, too."

She waited and hanging his head, he finally sighed out, "Of course, he didn't do that right away. He made sure to turn me about in the air so that everyone there had a good look at me."

Hermione shut her eyes, feeling tears sliding down her face.

"He even levitated me closer to all the girls so they could get a better view. A live biology lesson, he called it. I was 15, Hermione. Do you know how that felt?"

She cried quietly now, and he finally turned to look at her.

"Hermione?"

She sniffed. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Severus! Here I was asking if you'd like it if I hung you upside down naked and scourgifyed your mouth..."

He managed a bitter smile. "Been there. Done that."

She went up to him and held him tightly.

"It's over now, love. It's over."

"I know it is. Then I run into one of those same classmates again. It's the first thing they think when they see me, I know it is."

"Oh, Severus!"

"I had to teach some of them, you know. I had to come back to the school just a few years later. Try and get someone to listen to you, much less respect you when you've been hanging in front of them with your bits in their face. Just try it."

"Severus..."

"Bloody hell!" He clutched at her and released a deep shuddering sigh.

Hermione said nothing. She knew, somewhere, this was an issue that would never die. Harry had his own similar issues and it saddened her that these two men she loved so strongly, if in different ways, had these grievous inner wounds that wouldn't, couldn't heal. It offended the healer in her.

She just held him and let him hold her. She hoped it would be enough.





Minerva McGonagall came again three days later, this time before breakfast and accompanied by a tired, but pleased-looking Harry Potter.

They were startled when Snape opened the door to greet them, and a bit more surprised when Hermione came over from the couch and hugged them both. Of course, if Severus had been wearing more than his pyjama bottoms and Hermione had been wearing more than his pyjama top, they might not have been so astonished.

Hermione did not seem fazed, merely suggested they wait in the kitchen whilst they changed and then, a few minutes later, dressed in jeans and tee-shirt, she astonished them again by suggesting that "Severus dear," who was equally casually dressed, if in a button-down shirt, fix their guests "some of those lovely bangers."

Harry looked the same way he'd looked his first year when he'd swallowed the snitch, and Minerva was nonplused as Hermione made them tea and asked after everyone, but managed to answer.

Once the niceties were concluded, they relayed their information that Fenrir Greyback had been, ironically enough, mistaken for a bear by a Muggle hunting enthusiast and shot. The bullet had not been silver, but then the weapon had not been a simple gun. The werewolf had been torn in half and lycanthrope or not, very few creatures survived such an injury. The rest of his band of werewolves had surrendered, rather grudgingly, to the Ministry.

Harry was smiling by the time he was done, and Hermione was glad. She had not seen him smile in far too long and she told him so.

"Well, with all this over... Ginny and I... we can get married now."

Hermione beamed. "I'm so glad."

"Congratulations, Potter."

"Thank you."

"I'll have to write Ginny."

"She'd like that. Um... I hope it's not... I..."

"Just say it, Harry."

"Well, she'd love to have you as bridesmaid, but with everything that's gone on... I've asked Remus to be my best man, so she asked Tonks. We hope that's--"

"Don't worry, Harry. It doesn't upset me. I'm glad for both of you."

He nodded, looked at Snape, swallowed, and then asked, "So... what's the news with the two of you?"

Minerva paused in the midst of her breakfast to arch a brow of her own. "Indeed. I don't believe I've seen Severus so... relaxed in the last thirty-odd years."

"I only started teaching in '81, Minerva."

"I'm including your student years, Severus."

Hermione choked a little into her tea and Harry hid a smirk behind a slight cough.

"I'm not ashamed to state that I am quite content, even happy, Headmistress," he admitted solemnly.

McGonagall smiled. "I'm so pleased, Severus. I never thought to hear those words from your mouth."

"I never knew what they meant... until now," he murmured, looking only at Hermione who swallowed, then managed a small, shy smile despite suddenly damp eyes.

Harry cleared his throat. "Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry. I'm very happy," she responded to his unanswered question.

He smiled then, a genuine smile, and reached across the table to squeeze her hand. "In that case, I'm happy for you."

He looked up to the man who had helped him so much, and tormented him so much, and added resolutely, "I'm happy for you both."

Snape's expression softened. "Thank you, Potter."

The silence in the kitchen might have lingered, but the sound of Minerva happily blowing her nose made them all jump, then settle back into their prior activities.





"Oh, God, Severus!"

"Patience, my dear. It makes the reward that much sweeter."

He was stroking his hands down her sides and then back up over her torso, drifting his fingers gently over her already hard nipples, over and over.

She was quite wet already, a slight damp spot on the bed below her pert cheeks, he noted.

She was propped on some pillows, her arms straining and tied to the bedposts. He had said something about a little payback being his due, and she'd readily agreed. Now she arched her hips at him.

"Oh, fuck! Oh, Severus!" She squirmed and moaned and begged him, unworried about the neighbours thanks to an earlier silencing charm.

"Oh, I intend to fuck you, Hermione. Believe me. I don't plan to stop until I am thoroughly tired of you. Might take ... /years/." He arched an eyebrow at her and she whimpered.

"Severus, please."

He sat back on his haunches between her spread legs. "Anything, Hermione. What would you like?"

"Touch me. Please. Touch my breasts. Touch my clit. Oh, God, Severus! Please!"

"As the lady wishes," he murmured, doing precisely as she asked, one hand on one breast, his mouth on the other, and rubbing the head of his rearing erection against her engorged clit until they both were gasping.

"Severus, fuck me! Please! I'm so wet for you!"

Without preamble, he slid down slightly and thrust right into her with one swift stroke. Hermione screamed and he found a good rhythm, hips working as his hands and mouth did, too, worshipping this woman, this beautiful, glorious woman he'd found.

Or perhaps, he thought briefly, she'd found him. It didn't bother him; he simply couldn't remember that entire time between curse and coming to and he couldn't be arsed enough to care. Voldemort was dust, and /this/, their love-making, was what mattered.

"Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!" Her legs wrapped around his waist and held him tightly.

He said nothing, finding her words an almost unbearable aphrodisiac. Never in his wildest dreams would he have believed that little Miss Prefect, the bossy little bookworm, would have such a penchant for dirty talk. Oddly enough, he found it aroused him greatly.

"Is this good?" He murmured, gently nibbling her nipple.

"GOD! YES! YES! FUCK ME! SEVERUS! GOD!"

He moved one hand down to start stroking her clit and she screamed at high volume and a flood of wetness made her channel incredibly slippery even as she tightened around him, milking out his own orgasm.

He grunted and gasped out his climax and then sighed, letting himself rest, head on her breastbone, knees supporting his lower body.

He groaned.

"Oh, Severus..." she murmured dreamily.

He looked up and smiled at her expression, before reaching for his new wand, received that afternoon courtesy of the Headmistress, and loosening her bonds. "Hermione?"

"That was quite an aphrodisiac," she admitted, slipping her arms around him and leaning them both back against the mound of pillows.

"Having your hands restrained?"

"No, what you said."

He frowned. "What was that?"

"/Years/." She reminded him with an arched brow and smile.

He thought back. "Ah. Well, I honestly don't see how I could ever tire of you, love."

Hermione blushed now. "That's the first time I've heard you use that word."

"It won't be the last, I assure you."

He took her face in his hands and kissed her brow, each of her cheeks, then gazed at her so intensely she swallowed hard.

"I plan on using it and demonstrating it, as long as you'll let me," he told her.

Happy tears filled her eyes as she smiled back at him. It was, he noted, not the broken smile he'd gotten used to seeing from her. He decided that he liked it.

"I guess I'll never stop hearing it then," she whispered.

To her touched surprise, tears filled his own eyes, but the smile he gave her back was resplendent. Then he leaned in to claim her lips and seal the promise he'd just made.


END


Completed 26 January 2006.