Chapter Eight

I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters; J. K. Rowling does. In addition, I do not make any profit from this fanfiction. Huge thank you goes to my beta – Glorioux.

Chapter Eight

Sunny Morning

Soft popping sounds, muffled voices and the tinkling of porcelain china being moved had awakened Hermione. Slowly, she opened her eyes, lifted herself onto her elbows and looked around with interest.

Quite understandably, our young witch wasn't terribly observant yesterday. You do remember that the previous night our heroine was rather intensely preoccupied otherwise. All of her attention had been centered on only on one part of the room, one piece of furniture to be precise...the bed. She had noticed nothing else in the room.

Of course, Severus Snape undertook noteworthy efforts to ensure that during the night, our witch had come to know his bed quite closely and intimately. It would be fair to say that by dawn, this bed was almost more familiar to her than her own.

Thus, with the morning sun shining enthusiastically through the glass of the old window, Hermione was curious. Her warm, amber gaze slid slowly over the ascetic interior of the Potions master's bedroom. Everything there was simple, yet practical...crisp white walls with wood finishes, rich walnut furniture. Heavy green draperies made her smile at this tribute to Slytherin House colours. Books and accessories were organized and placed with surgical precision so that nothing looked out of place. Well, except for one vivid, crimson piece of chiffon on the floor... Also, there was something beige, crumpled and vaguely familiar lying in the far corner. Hmm.

A gently opened door abruptly interrupted the witch's perusal of the bedroom. Through the narrow opening, Hermione could hear a familiar baritone hiss, "Casimir, no!" The next second, a wrinkled face peeked inside, and then promptly disappeared. The door, however, was left ajar.

"See, Master, Missy not sleeps, Missy Hermione awakes," sounded a triumphant elf's squeaky voice, followed by Severus' exasperated sigh and something almost inaudible, ending with a 'k'.

"Breakfast is ready, Master. Me keeps breakfast warm all morning. Missy Hermione eats French breakfast in bed." The elf continued his happy chirping, obviously trying to convince his master of the necessity of taking the morning meal in bed.

The highly irritated voice of one Potions master muttered, "Give me that, Casimir. You can leave now, and don't pop up here until I'll call you," indicating that his master was indeed defeated. A full minute later, the door was finally opened entirely. A peeved, dishevelled and not quite fully dressed Severus Snape, with the breakfast tray in his hands, appeared on the threshold.

Here, my friends, let us pause and visualize. I want you to savour this moment, because the picture here is truly worth a thousand words. Just imagine...our Potions master stood there topless! His hair was for once all over the place, undoubtedly due to the wild tumbling in bed the previous night. His extremely sour facial expression was entirely out of tune with the lively breakfast display he held in his hands – a tray full of goodies in glossy white china. There even was a small red rose on the side. Is it not a hilarious image?

It wasn't exactly the picture Hermione had imagined a week ago, with Severus in an apron, but it was close enough. She bit her lower lip in order to suppress hysterical giggles, which rose in her throat and threaten to escape.

The moment our sour-faced wizard shut the door and his onyx eyes focused on the young lioness, she rose to a seated position, thereby allowing the white sheet to slide down and offering him a front-row view of her nude bosoms. This change seemed to significantly improve the Potions master's mood.

The shade of a faint smile touched the corners of Severus' lips. His face lost its sourness, and he uttered, "Good morning." The heated gaze of the wizard's black eyes caressed the young witch's curves as he covered the distance between them. And then, after he sat down on the bed and carefully manoeuvred the tray to her lap with a husky whisper of "breakfast", Severus, not waiting for an answer, launched himself on the dusty pink, bare nipple, his hungry mouth closing on it.

Here my friends, I am happy to report that breakfast proved to be a rather lengthy, intense and messy affair, which satisfied both of their appetites. Casimir fortunately refrained from popping up uninvited.

Foggy Afternoon

Quite surprisingly for our golden girl, she had spent the rest of Saturday and most of Sunday at Severus' house. Even though Severus hadn't actually voiced his desire for the witch to stay, he did reveal his wishes quite boldly by ending Hermione's every attempt to leave with a passionate encounter, after which they both were unable to move for a while.

At some point, our young lioness had been reacquainted with her blue knickers. She was also presented with a white shirt and soft lounge trousers that were fitted for her with one swift move of the Potion master's hand. She wore them for the rest of her stay.

Despite the impression I may have given that our lovers only spent their time in intimate games, they did actually talk quite a lot during this weekend. Well, ahem, let's say...Hermione talked and Severus listened, offering his comments here and there. Our chatty little lioness quickly covered the entire eight years during which they had not interacted, possibly giving Severus more information about the Wizarding community that he ever wanted to be given. But that was a small price for having the young witch around, and Severus thus paid it willingly.

Of course, before long, our bookworm had found, in her opinion, the gem of the villa...the library. I am, however, fairly certain, that in Severus' opinion, the crown jewel of the villa was his potion laboratory, which he also presented to the young witch. The lab favourably impressed Hermione, exceedingly so, yet the size and the content of the library struck her much, much more forcefully.

That is where our black-haired wizard found her on Sunday afternoon after he had finished brewing a small batch of potions, which were due on Monday. She was curled comfortably facing the door on the tufted velvet settee, with her legs tucked close to her chest and her bum clad in Severus' lounge trousers. It was a view our bum-loving Potions master most certainly couldn't miss, and so he acted accordingly.

There were only three seconds before Severus' hands claimed the witch. He quickly turned her to him and sealed her mouth with a searing kiss, snatching her surprised exclamation "Severus!" right from her plump lips. The book was sent to the shelf with a wandless spell, and pretty soon they were both nude, with our Potions master nestled deeply inside his witch. They moved and groaned in unison, his hot mouth on her skin, and her soft lips on his. They kissed and bit, licked and sucked, and bit again. The tempo was increasing by the minute, and they both reached the pinnacle quite quickly.

With a satisfied groan, Severus slid onto the rug as the settee was simply too short for his long limbs. Hermione crept over to his chest, covering his hard body with her soft, pliant form. His hands sneaked around her waist and held her tightly, and they lay there silently, savouring that perfect moment in full.

Alas, my darlings, everything perfect and beautiful always eventually has to give way to something that is not so perfect. And that was precisely what had happened during a nice and, thanks to Casimir's tremendous efforts, almost romantic dinner. Our lovers were engaged in a lovely conversation when suddenly Hermione remembered that she hadn't told Severus the most momentous news. "Oh, my, I forgot to tell you, Severus. This Thursday I'll be giving the first presentation of my 'Magical Creatures' Rights' initiative. I'll have only three presentations before the Ministry heads will officially vote." A lovely blush appeared on the young witch's cheeks. "I am so nervous and inspired at the same time. If my initiative should pass, it will be the start of a new era."

If our Potions master had paid more attention, he would have noticed the intense scrutiny she was paying him. Her amber eyes were focused on him, taking in his absentminded nods and mutters of "hmm, hmm, yes, yes," while he was consuming his dinner. A faint, dark spark flared up briefly in Hermione's eyes, and she asked, "Would you like to come to the presentation, Severus?"

"Me? Why?" he answered, finally looking at her. "No, thank you. Believe me, Hermione. I barely have enough patience for the one social event a year. And this year's quota was already exceeded by my presence at the Victory Ball." His black, unfathomable eyes watched his lover for a few more minutes and then, with a slight nod, he continued with his dinner, looking perfectly unperturbed.

Our golden girl drew a long sigh. The excited blush on her face faded, and with a softly spoken, "Oh, right," she too, continued with her dinner. An uncomfortable silence settled in the air.

Since Casimir knew his master too well, he luckily was adequately prepared. The little creature masterfully drew attention to the pivotal moment of the dinner, the grand finale so to speak...the elf's magnificent crème brûlée. A delicious dessert and a delightful aperitif, which Severus himself had fished from his bar, did indeed slightly ease the tension between our lovers. The soft peals of the witch's laugher had returned, mellow chatter filled the dining room once again, and the evening regained its previous peacefulness. All seemed just fine...

An hour later when Hermione stood in front of Severus' fireplace, already wearing her crimson dress and ready to leave, Severus did not hesitate and drew her to him. He pressed his lips to her closed eyes and whispered, "Will I see you again, witch? Come over on Friday, after work, will you?" With that, the ever-stoic Potions master gave his lover one last, chaste kiss and let go of her. Our girl opened her glistening eyes and exhaled, "'till Friday, Severus."

The Floo's green flames swallowed her in the next second.

Strategies and Tactics, or a Comeback...The Malfoy Style

This early Monday morning proved to be surprising for Hermione's administrative assistant Lora. She was running a bit late and was rushing through the Ministry corridors, not paying much attention to the normal craziness around her at the start of the workweek.

In her hands, she was holding the massive stack of invitations to the presentations of her boss' law initiative. Lora had been working on them during the weekend and was quite proud of her efforts and happy with the results. The invitations were superbly produced...bright and informative in a spare, sophisticated style. She would have to drop them at the mailroom before she went to her office because Hermione insisted that it was crucial for all Ministry officials to receive the invitations first thing in the morning.

Breathless after the brisk walk, Lora was already close to the mailroom when she heard footsteps behind her and a pleasantly sounded drawl, "Miss, Miss," stopped the girl in her tracks. Intrigued, Lora abruptly turned around and collided with the firm and quite broad chest of our one and only Lord Malfoy. The impact caused all her weekend's efforts to fly from her hands.

Oh, no! The thoughts began to swirl in Lora's head, her eyes full of horror. No! The disaster, however, was not destined to happen. One elegant movement of the quickly drawn wand froze everything in mid-flight, and a moment later the neatly folded pile of papers were in Lucius' hands. He was studying their content with genuine interest.

"Mister Malfoy," whispered a flustered girl, "thank you so much, thank you," and Lora attempted to take the flyers from the blond wizard's hands. He, however, was not in a hurry to return them to her. In the millisecond of a pause, Lucius seemed to consider something.

"Lora, if I am not mistaken, right? Good morning, darling, how are you?" Lucius began a polite chat. "I am sorry, Lora, I was so clumsy, Monday morning, you know," the wizard's deep chuckle and his dashing smile made the young girl lower her eyes and lightly blush. Clearly the clumsier of the two, the girl was desperately trying to find the courage to say something daring and witty. Agh, she had seen her boss Hermione doing so many times before, but alas, Lora's brain and tongue refused to work. The wizard was too intimidating.

"What are those, dear? Ah, they are invitations to Miss Granger's presentations. How delightfully interesting. Very nicely done, Lora. Very, very nice." Lucius continued his masterful game with the goal already in his mind. Poor, unsuspecting Lora blushed a bright red colour. Never before had a wizard of Lucius Malfoy's scale and appeal complimented her so profoundly.

"Lora, darling, I meant to ask you before our collision. Could you please do me a favour and put this rose on Miss Granger's desk. I would appreciate it immensely." Lucius put a single, proudly yellow rose in the dazed girl hand. By now, Hermione's administrative assistant could only nod. The ability to utter words had left her a few minutes ago.

"Thank you, darling. I owe you now, my dear," and with that, the last accurate and decisive manoeuvre was made. "Do you need to send these, Lora?" Lucius asked, pointing at the flyers, which were still in his hands. "Yes? Oh, let me do it for you, darling. It's the least I can do for you after my unspeakable clumsiness and you kindly agreeing to do me a favour. I will put them into today's post right away, darling. Thank you again for your help. Bye. On your way now." Lord Malfoy's palm actually gave a little slap to the girl's bottom just to bring her back to reality.

Lora, still dazed and flushed, muttered, "Thank you, Mister Malfoy," and disappeared in the morning's crowd. Lucius Malfoy was left standing with his trophy in his hands. He was extremely pleased with himself, with the morning, with Lora. The huge pile of brightly coloured invitations in his hands was nothing less than the shortest way to the heart of his soon-to-be bride. As you can probably guess, my dear readers, our blond had already developed an ingenious plan and was going to implement it immediately. Only minutes later, the beautiful and slightly modified flyers had been sent to all Ministries' officials.

Lucius left the Ministry in an excellent mood. For the first time in the last two and half days, he was back on his horse. Presented with the lucky opportunity, he had made his move brilliantly and now all the players would be forced to play his game by his rules. Oh, yes! That was the game at which he was remarkably proficient...the manipulator to the core. A successful Monday morning, indeed.