Panic and Pain

Severus woke in a panic. What had he done? What had he been thinking? Of course, he hadn't been thinking at all, at least not with his intellectual head. Now, here he was, a glorious naked woman in his arms, cock already hardening with arousal, and all the normally calm man could do was get lost in undeniable panic. He'd sworn he would give himself time to reason out the situation before toppling them over a cliff from which they could not return. Hermione was not as world-wise as he--she deserved more time to make certain of her desires, and he deserved more time to ascertain her intentions. He'd no wish of giving in to this new-found joy, only to have it yanked away when she discovered him too much a snarky git to be borne. But what was he to do now?

Severus was never at the height of sanity when emotionally bowled over. When Hermione began to stir, he reacted (in an instinctive and completely Slytherin manner) with hardly a moment's thought. It was a brash action that he would come almost immediately to regret.

Grabbing Hermione's wand, Severus clothed both of them with a whispered charm. Hermione woke and turned to him with a startled expression, which then turned to complete shock as Severus lowered the wand, pointing it between her widening eyes.

"Obliviate," he intoned.

The surprise in Hermione's eyes lived a moment longer, then gradually slid into a look of incredible blankness. Taking the moment in which she was stunned to surreptitiously change his attire to its customary morose black, he then returned her wand. A devil as black-hearted as he should never wear such a joyous color, he thought.

When Hermione's expression seemed to return to her inquisitive, normal appearance, Severus brusquely asked her to re-claim her cloak and, without waiting, began walking down the trail.

"As you wish, Professor," Hermione said quietly. He was unaware of the look she threw his retreating back. It was a glare of confusion mixed with undeniable fury.

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

Trailing behind her reluctant lover, Hermione was seething with anger. Her thoughts circled in a raging tangle. What the hell was the sneaky, Slytherin bastard thinking? Even had his ridiculous 'obliviate' worked, did he think for one moment a freshly de-flowered virgin wouldn't notice something amiss? Indeed, her tight Muggle jeans were uncomfortably rubbing against tender flesh. Not having quite caught up to her insufferable professor, she managed a muttered healing spell and her discomfort abated. Still trying to hide her seething fury, she at last caught up with Severus.

Glancing at his face, she at first saw only his outward calm. Hermione had studied the secretive man far too closely to be fooled for long. His head was slightly bowed; his muscles unusually tense. His eyes tried in vain to shield a look of undeniable pain; he refused to look at her. Hermione's rage abruptly fled. Sweet Nimune, this sneaky Slytherin--this strong, unflappable man--was completely gobsmacked. She should've known. Having little experience with men in general, she still knew this man as few others did. Severus was far more comfortable with intellect than emotion. It was little wonder he'd panicked.

Trying to calm herself, Hermione gave a small sigh and continued to study the problem. Her first impulse was to confront the stubborn man immediately, but that would never work. If he felt threatened, he'd only dig in his heels and close himself off even more. Besides, she couldn't confront him until she'd some idea of what spooked him in the first place. Was it an instinctive pushing away of emotions that confused him? Or did he truly regret the amazing night of passion they had shared? Good gods--what if it wasn't amazing to him? Sure, it was the single most inspiring night of her life; that didn't mean he felt the same. What if she'd been horrid at it? Perhaps Severus had obliviated her in order to spare her feelings because she was terrible at sex! Confused, bereft, and worried, Hermione continued in sorrowful silence.

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

Walking along zombie-like, Severus was too numb at first to think much of anything. He neither noticed Hermione's quiet sigh, nor did he note her close scrutiny. For a long time indeed, he hid away, lost in his own mind, afraid to face the consequences of his recent actions. Coming slowly back to himself; he was utterly appalled by what he'd done. It was one moment of pure cowardice that he'd pay for all his life. With one foolish choice he'd ruined all hope of a continuing relationship with Hermione. Even an obliviated woman must eventually realize she was no longer a virgin. He'd thoughtlessly stolen that sweet memory from her mind. Oh...and how sweet it had been. His precious Hermione! Now that the situation was irreparably ruined, he could see with sudden clarity how important she was to him. It was hopeless--if he confessed what he had done, she would never forgive him. If he continued to woo her, while pretending that their night of heated passion had never occurred, she was bound to find him out. She was far too intelligent to be fooled for long. Even in his distress he already ached for her. Assuming it was a fit punishment for a man as horrendously stupid as he, he unknowingly sighed and walked on.

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

Severus' quiet sigh jolted Hermione from the place in her mind where she chased her fears of sexual inadequacy. Sneaking a look at his face, she noticed he didn't look so much disappointed as desolate. The clues where small, but they were present. His body language indicated a man whose sorrow was inconsolable--definitely not the attitude of a smug Slytherin, pleased by cleverly casting an unwanted (and possibly horrid) lover aside. For the first time all morning, Hermione allowed herself to hope there was nothing lost that could not be regained. Warmed by her hope, she freed her memory to play over the extraordinary events of the night before; permitting herself a secret smile. She'd been right about the tremendous passion the reserved man kept hidden. For a long while she lost herself in provocative thoughts.

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

Damn! Why was it that now all hope was gone all he could think of was pulling her to the ground and ravishing her? He couldn't tear his mind away from remembered kisses, her hot mouth exploring his chest, the joyful triumph of finally sheathing himself in her tight heat. Her whimpering cries echoed in his mind. He could still taste her on his tongue. He was going mad.

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

She was going mad. There had been sexual tension between them before, especially that morning she had so unashamedly snuggled up to him; it had never been so bad as this. Knowing now exactly what she was missing, all she could think about was throwing him to the ground and having her wicked way with him. She ached...oh, how she ached for him. Her every distracted thought was focused on a wild array of schemes to break down his defenses and get him deep inside her, where he belonged. She didn't know how to deal with her fledgling needs. Convinced she had to confront him soon, she searched her mind for a plan.

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

As Hermione searched and Severus fretted, they came upon a small pond near the path they traveled. Giving the body of water one appraising glance, Hermione decided if she could not yet conceive of a plan, she could at least cool off her heated and aching body. Besides, a convenient excuse to get naked might help the distraught man stalking at her side to recover his sense, not to mention his passion.

"We camp here," she said in a voice that brooked no argument. "I am going to take a plunge." Her tone did not keep her stubborn Slytherin from arguing.

"Are you mad?" he asked incredulously. Her bizarre statement had knocked his silence from him. "It is far too cold for a plunge. Have a cleansing charm and be done with it."

Not to be denied, Hermione simply began removing her clothes. An odd mixture of shock, shame, and excitement stole Severus' protests. Reconciling himself to his fate, he sat on the grassy bank and refused to look at her. Not even when experiencing the Dark Lord's displeasure had he known such agony. Knowing that she was so close, so naked, and yet so untouchable, was destroying the last vestiges of his sanity.

Hermione looked up from the frigid, but necessary, water to see a look of unspeakable sorrow on his dear face. She splashed to the edge of the pond, and, remaining mostly in the water, propped her head on crossed arms at the edge of the bank.

"Professor," she called softly, "what is wrong?"

Severus risked a glance at her and, seeing she was covered, stared at her sweet face with a look of unbearable loss.

"There is nothing you can do to help me, Miss Granger," he replied in a voice so low she could barely hear him. "I have made a grave mistake and there is no way to repair it." Hermione remained unsure of his motivations until he continued. "The gods grant man a brief taste of joy and he, foolish creature that he is, throws away happiness with both hands. I do not expect you to understand, Miss Granger, and I cannot even berate you for that, as it's my own bloody fault you cannot comprehend me." He finished in such a bereft tone that Hermione's heart went out to him.

She climbed from the water to stand unashamedly nude before him. Gaping at her for a moment in surprise, Severus turned his head away in tormented confusion. "Miss Granger...please..." his voice broke. "Please cover yourself...I beg of you."

Hermione stood in a feminine pose as old as Eve, one knee bent, one hand resting on a thrust out hip, head cocked slightly to the side as she studied him. "Why?" she replied. "It's nothing you haven't seen before--and quite recently."

Completely confounded, Severus' eyes dragged themselves to hers. What on earth could she mean?

"Honestly, Severus! Do you think me a fool? I've known for some time that I was in love with the most Slytherin man of them all. Is it any surprise I thought it might be prudent to learn blocking of an Obliviate hex?"

Severus had a sudden epiphany. Hermione had realized that dealing with him might lead to a situation in which he attempted to Obliviate her. So what had this amazing creature done? Had she given up in disgust? Had she fled in terror? No, she had calmly learned to block said hex and continued to pursue him. He had long known Hermione to be as brave as a Gryffindor, and as loyal as a Hufflepuff. Her recent Arithmancy work had proved she was brighter than any Ravenclaw. Now he was enchanted to see she was as sly as a Slytherin as well. Apparently his Hermione was a goddess. All doubts fled in an instant--there was only one more piece of the puzzle he wished to know.

"Hermione, if you blocked that spell this morning, why did you wait so long to confront me?"

"Because I didn't know why you did," she said with exasperation. Her confident pose changed. She crossed her arms in a protective gesture over her bare breasts, leaving her sex still charmingly displayed. Severus made every effort to focus on her words. "I mean," she continued, "for all I knew you thought...well...I wasn't that bad last night, was I?"

It took a moment for Severus to understand her meaning. Then he both shocked and infuriated Hermione by throwing his head back and howling with uncontrollable laughter. His rich, baritone laugh echoed through the surrounding trees.

Hermione, patience finally at an end, launched herself at his chest, pushing him flat on the ground and landing atop him. Being suddenly covered in delightfully naked and wet Hermione, Severus at last stopped laughing and regarded her with blazing eyes.

"You didn't answer my question," she growled.

"I find," he purred, "that my Hermione is brilliant in ALL things."

"Oh...oh my," was all Hermione managed before he pulled her head down, crushing her lips with his own. Leaning into the kiss for what seemed like an age, Hermione eventually withdrew to attack the long line of buttons barring her from her goal.

"You insufferable, stubborn, Slytherin man!" she fussed. "We could've been doing this hours ago! You give me the most spectacular night of my entire life and then, when I wake up hoping to do it all over again, you make me wait ages! It was excruciating!"

Beginning to chuckle again, Severus was amused by both his angel's impatience and the sudden understanding of exactly why she'd decided to take a cold bath in the middle of the wood.

"Am I so amusing then?" she demanded, glaring at him.

"You, Hermione, are a goddess." His eyes seared into her own. Haste soon replaced momentary anger and, growling, Hermione returned to attacking his buttons.

"I must say that I am thoroughly enjoying your intriguing battle with my apparel, Hermione, but I find myself as impatient as you. May I remind you that you posses a wand?"

"Oh!" Giving him a look as if he hung the moon, she scrambled to her cloak. Withdrawing her wand, she disrobed the man in an instant, then stood for a long time examining him with hungry eyes. Opening her mouth to speak...she blushed and closed it again with a snap.

"Dear one, it's all right. Tell me what you want," Severus said in a calm, low voice.

"I want to touch you," she said in a halting quaver. "I want to touch you as you touched me."

"Come then," he spread his arms in welcome. "I willingly deliver myself to your explorations."

Sitting on the grass at his side, Hermione was both intrigued and trepidacious. Ever curious, she was enchanted by the easy way Severus entreated her to do as she wished. However, more than anything she wished to please him, and she was uncertain she knew how. Ah...well...this was, after all, Severus Snape; she supposed if she did something wrong he'd be sure to tell her about it. Deciding to start with more familiar ground, she began by running her hands over his black haired chest. It was delightful; an intriguing juxtaposition of hard muscle and soft skin. She could run her fingers through that fascinating hair for all eternity. Remembering his response from the night before, she leaned her head down to take a tiny nipple in her mouth. Taking a lesson from his previous treatment of her own, she kissed, licked, and (getting braver) nipped the tiny point lightly with her teeth.

Severus had watched her early explorations of his chest with burning eyes. When she began to suckle, his eyes closed in pleasure, her gentle nip brought forth a pleased growl. Sweet Arcadia! What she did to him with her tentative, yet eager attentions! Resigning himself to his fate, he vowed to recite all the potions ingredients in his supply cabinet to keep control while she learned his every inch.

Keeping her hands busy on his chest (and not yet brave enough to go to where she most wished to) Hermione raised her mouth to gently assault his neck. Beginning with the hollow of his throat, she worked her way up, around his jaw, to nibble at his earlobe. Another growl rewarded her efforts. Growing bolder, she gingerly slid the tip of her tongue into his ear. Severus groaned, and Hermione felt his hand reach up to knead at her hip. She must be doing something right! Perhaps she could...she moved to kneel between his spread legs.

Severus was hard and erect as a castle turret. When Hermione left his neck, beginning to suck and nibble a trail down his torso, his thoughts were constant stream of hope and fear. Please touch me...touch me...touch my cock...gods no...if she touches me now, this experiment is going to be embarrassingly short...sweet Merlin I shall run mad... A hand wrapped itself questioningly around his hard length. At his heartfelt groan, she began to softly, gently stroke it with excruciating slowness. His inner litany abruptly changed. Bezoar...nettle...porcupine quill...scurvygrass...lovage...asphodel...hellebore...shrivelfig...aconite...

At last brave enough to give in to her curiosity wholeheartedly, Hermione found herself captivated by the amazing object in her hand. Hard as a tree branch and soft as a rose petal, she was astounded at the way the skin moved with her hand over the hard length as she stroked. As her grip tightened, Severus cried out huskily. Eyes flying to his face, her hand halted...had she hurt him?

"Don't stop," he begged. "Please...gods...you torturous seraph...don't stop."

Hermione readily returned to her task, thrilled she pleased him. His panting breath and gravelly voice were having a startling effect on her insides. So wet that the cool air tortured, she wasn't certain how much longer she could wait to have him inside her.

He wasn't sure how much more he could endure before his control broke and he plunged inside her. What possessed him to let the minx torture him so unmercifully? She was wet...he knew she was...he could smell that extraordinary scent. Patience...control...gilly weed...armadillo bile...knotgrass...

When her hot mouth closed around the head of his cock he knew his control was at an end. He sat straight up, with a fierce "Hermione!"

Rising in alarm, Hermione's first thought was that she'd hurt him somehow. When he simply grabbed her and, lying back, dragged her up along his length to attack her mouth in a ravenous kiss, she realized he was ready for more than idle caresses. The thought prompted a moan.

Desperate to touch her, and completely beyond the power of speech, Severus' mouth ravished her lips and throat while his hands flew from her hair, down her back, to clasp her arse and grind her against him. Must get inside her...but first...

Suddenly rolling them until he was on top, Severus ground his hips against her, once, twice. Abruptly, he shimmied down her length to spread her nether lips apart with his hands and plunge his tongue into her. Hermione shrieked. In but a moment she screamed his name, coming against his mouth in a flood met by an eagerly lapping tongue. Suddenly, he loomed over her. Eyes flashing, he said one word, "goddess," as he plunged into her. Such a fever pitch of passion cannot last long. Buried in her tight heat at last, he tried to go slowly. When she bucked against him, he lost all vestiges of control, pounding into her. When she came again, trembling around him, he quickly followed her over the edge.

When he regained his senses, he was still inside her; Hermione was fast asleep, a charming smile playing about her lips. Withdrawing from her was like leaving home. Sighing, he took her wand to raise the wards that would protect them. Re-transfiguring the pallet, he gently picked her up. She woke, murmuring words too low to be understood. He laid her softly on their makeshift bed, snuggled up behind, spooning her close to his warmth.

Hermione was in heaven. Severus rested her head on one arm while he put the other around her waist, its wandering hand coming to rest tightly cupping her sex. He slid one long finger just within her folds. Hermione wondered if he meant to do more, but he just left his hand there. She realized it was an erotically possessive gesture.

"Mine," he growled softly into her hair, as if reading her thoughts.

"Yours," she agreed.

They slept.