Eight

Hermione woke after what felt like a few hours. She was completely relaxed. The man lying pressed against her on the small bed was still there; she could feel every inch of him along her body. His breathing was heavy and regular, his chest rising and falling strongly against her back. He was still asleep.

Hermione smiled to herself and, ensuring she did not move, allowed her eyes to look around the room. It was dark now, but the dying embers of the fire cast a faint warm glow around the small chamber. It was not large and contained only a little, albeit comfortable and surprisingly opulent, furniture, but nearly every inch of available wall space was covered with books and vials and instruments. Hermione would enjoy examining them at some point, but at thid moment she could not imagine ever leaving the position she was in, pressed tight against the man still lying behind her.

She wondered what the time was. They may well have missed supper; her stomach was feeling annoyingly empty.

Severus inhaled suddenly and deeply behind her. She pressed more tightly into him, but allowed her mind a flicker of concern about how he would react when he awoke.

He hardly moved, but she could tell by the change in his breathing and tension in his muscles that he was awake. She became slightly fearful.

Then he spoke, just one word, but low and smooth as ever, an immediate balm of honey soothing her anxieties. "Hello."

She smiled warmly, her eyes shutting in relief, and replied softly, "Hello."

There was a contented silence for a while, and then his silken voice came gently to her ear again, querying in wonder, "Are you real?"

She smiled softly and paused before answering. "Only as real as you."

More silence. His hand was resting tenderly on her hip. She queried gently, "Is this as sudden as it seems?"

He took a while to answer. "No."

"In that case, you did a good job of hiding it," she smirked.

"So did you," he drawled sardonically.

Hermione smiled a little more broadly. "So when ...?"

Severus drew in a deep breath. "Sometime during the last year."

"But I hardly saw you then."

"I knew full well what you were ... going through."

"But ..." She had so much to ask, she hardly knew what to say next. But he then leaned his head to her again and stroked and kissed her.

"Shh ..."

The questions could wait. Her physical need for him overrode all others, and she turned her head to meet his. Severus brought his lips down onto hers. They were remarkably warm and tender. She opened for him immediately and he delicately, hesitantly almost, slipped his tongue into her, exploring softly around the inner edges of her warm mouth.

Unlike their first two encounters, where he had been almost detached from her as if, as was likely the case, he had been starved of affection for so long, now he opened himself completely to their mutual pleasure. His sensitivity and fluidity staggered Hermione, and she groaned longingly into his mouth. She moved back to press harder against him, and felt him rock-hard nudging at her.

Not taking his mouth from hers, he drew his hand along and under the thigh of the leg resting uppermost and lifted it slightly, moving to position himself and slowly but deliciously inching his way into her sodden opening. She was not fully expecting it, and even though he moved leisurely, she gasped in wonder as his considerable size stretched her aching walls. He started to rock in and out, still holding her leg up slightly. He was positioned perfectly within her, and with each stroke, teased her magical spot deep inside, sending jolts of building pleasure coursing through her.

His whole body was still firmly pressed against her, and now he lowered her leg and brought his hand round to nestle between her thighs. Not only did she feel herself squeezing him ever more tightly inside, but his agile fingers now moved deliciously along her wet folds, occasionally stroking up to her throbbing clit. Her muscles prepared themselves for her pleasure to rip through them. She moaned long into the room, unaware she was even doing it.

As her mind started to fog, she wondered momentarily about his skill as a lover suddenly manifesting itself with her. Surely these things did not happen by chance? But as his iron cock stroked her exquisitely and his fingers coaxed her ever closer, the question disappeared from her mind.

Her breathing came in short gasping breaths now, and she gripped the sheets around her. She never wanted him to stop. He was remarkably quiet in his efforts, totally absorbed in the pleasure he was drawing from them both. The complete peace of the moment was sublime. Snape withdrew almost fully from her, then surged along her one last time, while his fingers rubbed her expectant clit hard. Hermione's mouth drew in a final gasp and she melted, her body shuddering around his cock and fingers. Her walls clamped down on him hard and he came deep and long, his seed pulled from him time after time. He stifled a groan of delirium into her neck.

Hermione was not so restrained in her expression of the pleasure she felt, and she cried out incoherently, a wrenching gasp of ecstasy. The sound alone drew one last pulse of release from him.

Afterwards they lay again, silent, enjoying the feel of their bodies, heavy and relaxed in the aftermath of rapture.

"What now?" Hermione dared to question after some time.

He did not respond immediately. She was not sure she expected him to at all. But at length he spoke, his voice oddly formal.

"You are my student. You are here to take your exams. If we were discovered you would be expelled, I would lose my job. I need my job. You want to take your exams. We must not be discovered."

A sudden fear overtook her. She heard herself asking, uncertain why; she hardly wanted the answer, "Do you not want to carry on?"

He raised himself on an elbow and looked down at her in complete bewilderment, as if she had asked something ridiculous. She wondered what on earth he was going to say. His voice came to her, so certain as to make her feel ashamed for even suggesting it.

"I cannot let you go."

She gazed up at him and smiled gently, reaching up to capture his lips again.

He returned the kiss, then after they had finally moved apart, remained hovering above her, before speaking clinically. "I am expected at supper. If I hurry I will make it. I said I would discuss a tedious matter regarding a house ruling with Flitwick. My absence will be noted if I do not attend."

She felt him withdraw out of her with a pang of sadness. The mood in the room changed quite suddenly.

He spoke no more to her, but dressed silently and swiftly. She felt compelled to do the same. His demeanour and attitude had changed. He was withdrawing into the familiar persona of respected and feared member of staff. He hardly looked at her again, and moved to the door, declaring, "Depart no sooner than five minutes after me and ensure you leave a similar time before arriving in the hall." He turned again and walked from her. Her heart ached. She called after him.

"Is this it then? When we're not together? It's back to Miss Granger and Professor Snape?"

She did not think he would even turn around, but he moved slightly towards her, not quite able to meet her eye, and said abruptly and tersely, "Yes." With that he was gone.

Hermione sat on the little single bed, a sweeping desolation suddenly taking hold of her. Their time together had been more than she could possibly have hoped for, but the reality of their relationship, if you could even call it that, suddenly hit her hard. The exquisite erotic tension wrought by their illicit glances and fumblings could not be denied, but here in the privacy of his rooms, she realised she had enjoyed the promise of a normal life with him, and his sudden departure and eagerness to comply with the institutional regime which bound them both felt like a punch in the gut.

But her body immediately ached with his loss, and despite the frustration she felt at the situation, she knew that she would do and behave exactly as he wanted in order to have him: have him anyway she could. Before she left, she re-administered the contraceptive charm which she had been applying to herself for the last year or so, and after the amount of time he had specified, carefully and discreetly left the dungeon.

Hermione walked into supper, trying her hardest not to glance up at him. She sat with her usual friends, and for once they found Hermione good company. Her face glowed, she chatted freely and frequently punctuated the conversation with her bell-like laugh. It was a relief to them all, and Ginny in particular was delighted at her friend's new found happiness.

Hermione could see Snape out of the corner of her eye. She noticed that he too seemed to be conversing quite freely with Professor Flitwick, a rare occurrence at the best of times. She smiled secretly to herself. They so far had not made eye-contact, but the connection between them was more tangible than ever. Despite the odd nature of their parting, Hermione was still ecstatically happy.

It was only during dessert that she at last looked up long enough for there to be a moment between them. And sure enough, still talking to the professor beside him, Snape's eyes rose slowly to meet hers. Her insides jerked, but this time were accompanied by a deep warmth which spread through her body. He continued his conversation, but held her gaze for longer than she thought he would. She could not stop the corners of her mouth raising themselves into a tender smile. It was only at this point that his lips stopped moving and he remained staring only at her. He did not return her smile, but his face exhibited a gentleness she had never seen before. The glow inside her spread further.

Just then Ginny told a joke which made the table laugh out loud. Hermione took in the punch line, turned towards her friends and joined in the raucous giggling, her head falling back in glee. She did not see Snape at last allow a slight tug upwards at the corners of his mouth before returning to his dessert.

Her table got up to leave. They were all in such a good mood. Hermione tried to mimic them, but the thought of leaving his presence suddenly made her ache. Ginny linked her arm through hers, leaning in to impart some gossip about their friend's latest boyfriend, and pulled her down the hall towards the doors. Hermione felt a tug in her gut and turned her head to glance back at high-table. He was staring down the aisle as she went, his eyes fixed on her departing figure.

Hermione spent a pleasant enough evening in the Gryffindor Common Room, and admitted that her good humour allowed her to enjoy the light-hearted company of her friends for a change. But the euphoria which her relationship with her Potions Master had imbued her with was soon tempered with a feeling of emptiness which threatened to eradicate her happiness. As she lay in her lonely bed that night, thinking of him in his, the ache in her belly intensified to the point of nausea. It was a curious mixture of agonised desire and profound yearning brought about by their enforced absence.

She turned over, pulling the covers tight around her, moving her body into the exact position she had lain in together earlier. Her hollow core, so filled with him before, throbbed its need. She tried to imagine him pressing against her and closed her eyes, picturing his endless black ones burning into her soul. After a long while, she at last fell into a lonely sleep.