She Stumbles, He Falls

Following a breakfast including neither apples nor soup (to Severus' pleasure) the two reluctant adventurers discussed plans for the day. Though 'discuss' may be too mild a word.

"I beg your pardon, Professor," Hermione continued hotly, "but you are not yet strong enough to make such a journey. I estimate it to be close to 30 miles."

"I think, Miss Granger, that I am by far the better judge of my abilities at this point. I do not mean to belittle your efforts on my behalf, but you are clearly no Mediwitch," Severus snarled in response.

"I believe that it takes more to make a 30 mile hike than centaur-headed stubbornness!" she hissed, adding a belated and insincere "sir!"

"Had you managed the foresight to bring along my wand, we would both be at home sipping a cup of tea by now." Severus' voice was dropping, low and dangerous.

"Well, the next time I feel like getting hexed by Albus Dumbledore, I'll just waltz right into his office and attempt to steal something!" Hermione's voice, on the other hand, was getting a bit high and squeaky with frustration.

"Perhaps you would care to explain how Hermione Granger, adventuress extraordinaire, managed to lose her broom?" he sneered with a disgusted snort.

"I was attacked by a hippogriff," she said flatly, "and I believe the next time I feel fool enough to try to help an ungrateful wretch like you, I shall lock myself in the Quidditch shed until the urge passes."

Though Severus was momentarily appalled by the danger she'd faced to reach him, he'd worked his anger to such a fever pitch that he was unable to check it. The knowledge that she'd been in danger, and on his account, only added fuel to the flame. "Serves you right, you stupid little girl. I am astonished that you managed to make it so far from Hogwarts without a keeper. Now, if you would stop this foolishness and transfigure me some clothes, this is one ungrateful wretch that would prefer to get home as soon as humanly possible."

"As you wish, Professor," she said in a low, tight voice. Had Ron and Harry been there, they may have warned Severus that when Hermione was arguing, you were safe enough as long as she was shouting. It was when her voice went suddenly calm that you had to watch out. They may have warned him, but probably not.

Raising her wand, it took Hermione but a moment to create a set of clothes identical to what Professor Snape habitually wore--down to the last cuff button. Identical, at least, in all ways--but one: the entire set was a shocking lavender. It was nearly the color of a unicorn's eyes. For a moment, Severus simply stood there, a vein pulsing at his temple. Facing Hermione with a glare that had caused seasoned Death Eaters to flee in terror, he slowly raised one eyebrow. Inwardly, he was startled to see his most dangerous glower had instilled no terror in the young woman. In fact, she had that pinched expression that he suspected meant she was biting back a fit of giggling.

Her eyes open wide with that patently false Gryffindor look of innocence, Hermione blinked twice at him and said in a cloying voice, "I'm so sorry, Professor! I'm afraid I'm just so young and inexperienced...I'm always getting my transfiguration of colors wrong."

Unexpectedly, Severus found his rage fled and had to stifle a chuckle himself. Refusing to alter the scowl on his face (he wasn't about to let her win that much) he nevertheless realized he was fighting a losing battle. They may indeed start back to Hogwarts today, but he was going to have to make the trip looking as Albus did in the 1970's.

They packed up the camp; Hermione reversed the charm on the pallet and re-claimed her cloak. With a wistful look around the now familiar bit of path, they began the long walk back to Hogwarts. The recent argument had made them both thoughtful and they walked together in silence.

Severus had much to consider. Without an iron will forged by the long years of war, the temptations brought on by waking up with a soft young woman wrapped securely in his arms would have been too much to ignore. He truly cared for the girl; he could never give in to his passions without being very certain where he wanted those passions to lead. Would it be such a terrible fate if he married the minx? Damn and blast! Married? When had that errant thought reared its ugly head? Trying to decide if he wanted a simple relationship with the chit; suddenly he was throwing about the word 'married.' Saint Gianna's green garter! Severus had never in his life considered marriage for the blunt reason that he never thought he'd live long enough. There were precious few elderly spies in the world. Now, at nearly 40 years of age, he was free for the first time in his life. Free of bitter and cruel parents, free of Voldemort, free of a life of subterfuge and atonement. His hand strayed to rub a place on his forearm. Yes, even free of that hated brand. Why shouldn't he now do whatever he liked? Why shouldn't he marry if he so chose?

What would it be like to be married to Hermione? He certainly would never be bored. She possessed both unmatched intellect and subtle wit; he'd become quite addicted to both during their discussions in the potions lab this last year. She was not a classic beauty, but he loved looking at her. Those expressive eyes and that riot of hair would be a constant pleasure to contemplate. Never would he forget the feeling of her warm form molded to his. Gods, but she was a tiny little thing. (Not that it mattered--all are the same height lying down.) He liked that he was so much taller than she, it made him feel strong...protective. It also made him feel like picking her up, wrapping her legs about his waist and propping her against the nearest tree. There was no doubt in his mind that there could be passion between them. But was she too...nice? As much as he admired her sweet kindness and undeniable loyalty, he wasn't a nice man. She might find this amusing now, but a young lover put up with behavior a wife would not tolerate. He was too old to play at being nice all the time, nor did he wish to. If he could find no assurance that she wouldn't expect such a thing, then this impending relationship should go no further. Until he could make absolutely certain of that fact, he would use his every ounce of willpower to prevent things between them from escalating. While he didn't think he could bear to keep her from snuggling up to him at night, if she so chose, he could damn well keep the situation from getting heated.

However, the Fates know all too well what becomes of the best laid plans of mice and men. Severus would one day bless them for it

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Hermione's mind was in an equal whirl. Distressed by the recent argument, she found herself grinding her teeth, a habit her parent's had broken her of long ago. It wasn't the argument itself that bothered her (she thought the Potions Master was wicked sexy when he was furious), but only Severus Snape, the embodiment of all things Slytherin, could have a hard on for her one moment and call her a "stupid little girl" the next! Damn and blast! Now, of course, he strode along beside her in stony silence. He was lost in thought and not giving her one clue what those thoughts might be. Glancing at him again, Hermione stifled yet another giggle. The effect of stony silence, purposeful stalk, and serious mien was altogether spoiled by the swirl of bright lavender robes. She felt that transfiguration had been rather naughty of her; but he had called her "stupid little girl" one time too many.

Hermione was feeling, for the first time in her life, a sense of power that had nothing to do with magic. Knowing that her Potions Master was obviously affected by her, she felt if she continued as she began, she would soon get what she wanted. What did she want exactly? While Hermione didn't know what that 'exactly' entailed, she knew her heart's desire. She simply wanted to be at his side. It mattered not to her whether they were discussing the world, arguing bitterly, or wrapped in each other's arms. She wanted to be with him, share his life; his dreams. She wanted to cause that fleeting warm chuckle he had let slip the previous day; Hermione felt she could dedicate the rest of her life just to making the normally dour man laugh.

Hermione knew that a life with Severus would never be easy. He would be sneaky, difficult, and volatile. He would never tell her anything was amiss unless she dragged it forcibly from him. Love with him wouldn't be poetry and roses, to say the least; it would be hard work. If there was one thing Hermione was least afraid of it was working hard. And think of the rewards! Untold hours of talk that had nothing to do with Quidditch or hair care potions. Doing research and experiments together that might change the wizarding world. Quiet evenings snuggled before a fire while reading. Not to mention she steadfastly suspected that behind the calm façade beat the heart of a deeply passionate man. What would it be like when the dam of that calm finally burst? Gods! Her nipples made an obvious appearance through her jumper just imagining that. Hoping Severus was too lost in his own thoughts to notice, she nonchalantly put her woolen cloak back on.

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Merlin's hairy arse! Is that a nipple I see before me? Bloodyfuckinghell! What could the vixen be thinking of? For heaven's sake man, she's in the middle of a blasted wood with no one around but yourself, who do you think she's thinking of?

Though he made no outward sign, said nipples were having quite the effect on Severus' thoughts as well as other assorted bits of his anatomy. Finally having acquired pants, they were uncomfortably tight at the moment; making both walking and thinking difficult.

Merlin in a sidecar! She's covering up. Why in Hades did she go and do that for? Wait a minute...covering impressive nipples is an excellent idea. We are attempting to think before pouncing. Why exactly was that? Oh yes...respect...decisions...logic...whatever. Why exactly are you, the Head of Slytherin House, being so damn logical while there are deliciously hard nipples so enticingly within reach? Blast! Damn, I can smell her. She smells delectable...ripe...oh-so-ready to be plucked. Must keep control of ridiculous hormones. I'm not a bloody teenager for fuck's sake! Must stop thinking the word fuck. Must. Stop. Fuck!

**********************************

The befuddled thoughts of both distracted travelers were interrupted when they came to the closest of the rocky hills Hermione had climbed on her way in. Hermione solicitously asked Severus if he would like to stop and camp before attempting the hill, as they'd walked through the afternoon and into the early evening. Severus declined, saying he'd rather transverse this obstacle and camp on the other side. He was more interested in working out his present frustrations with a little exercise before facing an evening with Hermione, though he wasn't about to tell her that. They climbed the hill slowly; Severus was amazingly recovered by the day of rest and Hermione's efforts, but he didn't want to tempt fate.

Fate was already tempted, but for a completely different reason.

At the crest of the hill there was a small chasm between two large rocks. It hadn't troubled Hermione on the way in as it was only about two feet across and easily stepped over. Of course, Hermione had been wearing the invisibility cloak when she traversed it the first time. The pair climbing the hill was unaware they were drawing near the favorite haunt of a Gwyllion.

Gwyllions were a type of fairy, but bore no resemblance to the cheerful little beings often lighting special events at Hogwarts. Looking vaguely like small old women, they were as mischievous as they were hideously ugly. Their preferred occupation was to lead travelers astray, however they equally liked hiding, unmoving, in rocky places and staring with a condemning glower on their frightful faces at passers by. The person who came upon this unappetizing sight unawares was usually terribly startled, which caused the Gwyllions no end of wicked amusement. The chasm Gwyllion was a little more nasty than most, thus her perch amongst dangerous footing.

In the lead, Hermione was still distracted by 'the nipple incident' when she began to step over the break at the crest of the hill. Looking down, she was indeed startled to see the sudden horrifying face, looking daggers at her. One misstep and she began to topple into the chasm.

Strong hands grasped her by the waist and pulled her roughly out of harm's way. Landing hard against Severus chest, she caught her breath a moment before she turned in his arms to thank him. The words died in her throat. Severus was looking down at her like a starving man--as if he could happily consume her.

'Oh...oh my!' was all Hermione managed to think, her mouth opening in surprise. Taking one glance at her parted lips, Severus' dam of control broke apart, his mouth descending on hers as a hawk to a dove. In all her imaginings it was never like this. Fumbled experimentation with inexperienced schoolboys had ill prepared her for the pure heat of the Potion Master's kiss. Hot. Demanding. Invading. As his hungry tongue plunged into her open mouth, the blood rushed to Hermione's ears--she could hear naught else. Eyes having drifted closed of their own accord, she couldn't see. She couldn't think. She couldn't even breathe. The world disappeared. It was as if her entire universe collapsed and was reduced to this one kiss. It was sweetly devastating.

Severus was not thinking at all. He was tasting, and with the same intense concentration he gave to his potions. Here it was... that same tangy spiciness which clung to her always. Delectable. At last thrusting his hands deep into her glorious riot of hair, with a growl, he deepened the kiss.

Not knowing heaven could get more intense, Hermione was awestruck. Both the lips joined so energetically to hers and the low predatory growl that poured into her mouth sent searing tingles down her spine and straight betwixt her legs with a sharp twitch. 'Good Gods,' she thought vaguely, 'he's only kissing me and I nearly came.' Another growl from her professor, answered by a pleading whimper of her own, and there was no more thinking on the hill crest for some time.

Temporarily sated on her mouth, Severus regretfully withdrew from it in order to explore other, long hungered-for bits of Hermione. Fastening lips and gentle teeth on her neck, he forwent the pleasure of her hair to plunge his hands beneath her cloak. Sliding his hands down her trembling back to cup her bum, he pulled her even harder against his aching arousal. Leaving one hand there, keeping Hermione tightly caged, he reached with the other to search out one of the delightful nipples he had glimpsed earlier. Hermione moaned huskily, and, with a sweet lack of experienced grace, ground her hips against him. Something about that innocent action brought Severus slightly to his senses.

Must get her naked. Must get me naked. Why did I ever want clothes... bothersome things. Hilltop. Rocks. Probable virgin. Blast! Cannot take tender virgin while propped against rocks. Besides, we want a comfortable time to explore, don't we?

Reluctantly but firmly, he drew himself away from Hermione. She whimpered in protest and tried to press back against him.

"No!" she said breathlessly.

Damn but she was a passionate little thing! It took every ounce of his strength not to prop her up on the rocks after all. However, he had things in mind that could not be accomplished on this rocky peak.

"Sweet one," he purred enticingly, "I only want to get us off these blasted rocks."

"Promise?" she asked him with all the heat of her body reflected in her eyes.

"Promise," he replied, with a rakish grin that left her no doubt of his intentions, and sent loose another hard twinge between her legs.

Later, Hermione would have no clear idea how she came to find herself on the level path below the craggy hill. Nor would she recall exactly how Severus managed to possess her wand. Her next clear recollection was of Severus removing her cloak, then transfiguring it back into the pallet before he gently laid her down. Not quite able to control his impatience, he divested himself of all but his trousers with another wave of Hermione's wand, before throwing himself down to crush her body beneath his own. Hermione's eyes widened in desire as she again saw the coveted naked chest, then they fell closed in the delight of her hands being able to explore his bare skin. At first, she kept her hands firmly confined to his bare back--as she grew braver; she lowered them to his arse, giving a tentative squeeze. Encouraged by the growl of pleasure from the mouth currently assaulting her earlobe, she continued her explorations more firmly.

Mmmmm...How was he ever going to keep himself in check long enough to make this good for her? He didn't need to ask--he knew by her untutored, if devastating, explorations, that she was indeed a virgin. The mere idea of thrusting into her innocent heat, of claiming what no man had ever before been offered, nearly made him come in his pants like a schoolboy. Gods! If she had such an effect on him now, he couldn't imagine what she might do to him with more...practice. He had to slow down lest the event end before it was started. He drew away to lie at her side, ignoring her sweet, inarticulate protests. Rubbing a hand firmly up and down her side to calm her, he gave her a gentle kiss before sliding up her jumper. Rather than showing nervousness at his intent, she gladly raised herself up so he could remove the garment. Another moment and her bra was gone, as well, before he laid her back and dropped his head to her bared breast.

Severus analyzed that breast with lips and teeth and tongue until, at last satisfied, he moved on to its twin.

Under the power of that hot, wet, talented mouth, Hermione melted into a being of inarticulate cries and growing impatience. She hadn't one scholarly thought left in her head. All she realized was that she needed more of this amazing flood of sensation. She demanded more. In an unexpected moment of bravery, she almost frantically pushed Severus to his back, and, lying atop him, she paid the same attention to his chest and small, flat nipples that he had lavished on her own. Severus was enchanted by her sudden streak of dominance, and allowed her to continue her ministrations until he thought he might go mad. Not able to take more of the sweet torture, he rolled them over again and returned to her mouth to plant a hungry kiss. A hand went to the button of her jeans.

"May I..." he rumbled against her mouth, "may I remove these?" With Hermione's equally husky affirmative, he rose to his knees and, too impatient to go more slowly, retrieved her wand. With a soft charm, she was revealed in all her naked glory. Still kneeling, he drank in the lovely vision before him for long moments.

"Hermione, you are perfection," he sighed, returning to her eager embrace. Feeling her moist heat through only the front of his trousers, his self-imposed torture reached new heights. He once again removed himself to rest closely pressed to her side and, as his lips returned to her mouth, he dropped a hand to gently squeeze her curl-covered sex. Hermione whimpered encouragingly and he dipped a long, pale finger into her soft folds. At first, he only traced a finger up and down the hot cleft, giving her time to accustom herself to his touch. Sweet heavens! She was already so wet with arousal that he could barely contain himself. To have the proof that this charming angel truly wanted him was almost more than he could bear. When she began to grind her hips against his hand, he slipped a single finger into her passage.

So hot. So tight...so deliciously tight. Knowing he could not wait long to taste her, he managed a brief dance of fingers and thumb before his mouth left hers, leaving a hungry trail of kisses down her body, meeting his hand's endeavors. Finally reaching his goal, he replaced hand with hungry mouth. He was overcome with taste and scent as he plunged his tongue into her tight channel. Delicious.

Hermione shrieked. Hours of self-exploration had never led to this intense excess of sensation. Without embarrassment, she shrieked again, instinctively raising her hips to press against that talented mouth. Tension growing, her mouth uttered an unending stream of inarticulate encouragement.

When Hermione shrieked, Severus almost came again. Damn, but he was fast running out of self-control. He needed to press into that hot, wet, heat--and soon. Patience... Patience--he must make this first taste of pleasure good for her. She was nearly there...he could feel her tension mounting. He withdrew his tongue and plunged two fingers into her. Pumping the fingers steadily, he pressed the tip of his tongue to her sensitive bud, fluttering against it.

Hermione came, screaming his name.

Returning to her side, he held her close as she dazedly recovered. When she began to press herself against him again, he spoke. "Hermione," he began in a low trembling voice, "are you quite sure this is what you want...that I am what you want? I am fast approaching a point where I will not be able to stop myself."

She looked into his eyes with all seriousness. "I am absolutely certain I want this. I want you. Please."

That 'please,' spoken in such a pleading, soft tone, was Severus' final undoing. Kneeling again, and with another murmured charm, his cumbersome trousers melted away, leaving his fierce erection revealed to Hermione's startled eyes. He remained so, allowing Hermione to look at him. He chuckled at the mixture of nervousness and undeniable hunger that graced her eyes.

"What are you thinking, dear one?" he said, with soft amusement.

Hermione was thinking that, in spite of her research in the Restricted Section, she'd possessed no idea that a man's cock could reach such proportions. Egad! She couldn't say that! But how was it ever going to fit?

"I don't want you to think me naïve, but I just don't see how we shall ever...fit? You are too...magnificent," she finished lamely.

With another chuckle, he lay himself down on her, nestling himself between her thighs. "Hermione, I assure you that we will fit quite well together. Do not worry, little one, I will show you how perfectly we will meld."

Severus kissed her deeply, returning a hand to her soft folds to prepare the way. When Hermione was again pushing against him, he positioned himself at her entrance. When he tried, straining, to push himself slowly into her tight passage, he found his way tightly barred. Trying to gently stretch her only made her whimper with discomfort against his mouth. Sometimes fast was best.

He paused, his eyes darkening a moment. "It will hurt for a moment, little one, but I promise you I shall make you forget the pain."

"Yes," she breathed.

"Yes," he echoed.

Patiently stroking her with his fingers until she again grew close to the edge of pleasure, he at last thrust in. She flinched beneath him, but he held himself still while her channel became accustomed to his hard, invading length. Continuing to stoke her button with practiced fingers, when she again began to lift against him, he allowed himself cautious thrusts into her heat.

"So tight...gods...you are so incredibly tight my love," he murmured into her ear. "You see? You fit me like a silken glove. So hot...oh gods, Hermione, I have never felt anything as perfect as your embrace."

Hermione forgot her brief, unlamented pain. Overcome by his sure, experienced movements, as well as by the low, husky voice growling his pleasure in her ear, it was but a few moments until she again screamed his name as she found release.

The tight channel convulsing around his pulsing shaft brought an end to Severus' torment, as well as his patience. With a few hard thrusts, he growled out her name as he at last emptied himself into her.

He barely had the presence of mind to transfigure them a blanket before they collapsed exhausted into each other's arms, swiftly falling asleep.