11: Rung Five - Him

Disclaimer: Not mine. No money. Special thanks go to JKR for sanctioning HP fanfic.

Gobs of thanks go to my beta Southern Witch 69 and to my Brit-picker the amazing Saracen77.

11: Rung Five – Him

August 31st, 7:55 am

I have waited until the very last possible moment to return. If I could have arranged to make it even later, I would have, but there is the staff meeting. It is also inescapable that Slughorn will have left the potions stores in a state of disarray.

The castle taunts me by appearing much as it always has – as if the past three years never occurred and Albus stands waiting to greet me at the entrance as he did so many times before.

This time, there is no one.

Perhaps Minerva is cognizant that a substitute would only exacerbate my mourning for Albus. Perhaps she realizes that different, in this case, is preferable, better.

Walking the stone corridors, I see no one – even the ghosts are absent.

I enter the staff room a few minutes early and am assailed by an enthusiastic Minerva, who captures my arm.

“Severus! Oh, Severus, you don’t know what it means to have you back.”

I should be gracious. After all, it is her good will that keeps me from a pauper’s existence. But the pain runs deep, and walking these halls reminds me of Albus at every turn. “No, Minerva. It is I who am sure you have no idea what it means for me to be back.”

Her smile fades and her eyes turn to something beyond this room. “Just so. Just so.”

To buffer the effect of my words, I briefly touch her hand where it rests upon my forearm, and her awareness snaps back to the present just as her smile snaps back into place.

Eyes flickering to the doorway behind me, she gives me one last pat before disengaging and turning to greet the newest arrival. “Dorta! You don’t know how pleased I am to have someone with your reputation teaching DADA this year. Why Durmstrang ever let such a fine catch go is beyond me.”

Her voice fades from my notice as I enter further into the room and note that Granger has not yet arrived. She was either going to be here early to make a bold statement of fearless indifference, or she was going to avoid me for as long as possible. It appears the latter scenario is the case.

Having planned for both, I react accordingly and move to the far end of the table and lay claim to a seat. I cast a subtle Deterrence Charm on the chair beside me – it is similar to those used to keep Muggles away from magical places. This one, however, is tuned to discourage anyone not Granger.

Colleagues continue to filter into the room with Minerva greeting each individually. Finally, with one last glance towards an empty doorway, Minerva begins the meeting. All chairs are occupied but the magicked one to my left at the end of the table. Perfect.

“I would like to welcome you all to Hogwarts. We’re very proud to be opening this term with such a fine lot of teaching staff as I see here before me. Let me begin by introducing …” Minerva’s speech fades into the background – I have heard similar for the last twenty years and could recite one extemporaneously if ever called upon to do so.

I ponder how excessively tardy Granger is proving. Her perfectionism must truly be warring with her desire to avoid me. Excellent. A flustered opponent is one fully caught up in the game.

Eventually, she enters in a rush while Minerva is still seeing to the introductions. Her cheeks are flushed, her breathing quick, her hair rather wild. Her pace barely falters when she sees that the only available seat is beside me, and she settles into it swiftly.

Once she has prepared her writing implements, she worries her lower lip, seemingly lost in thought. A look of realization crosses her face, and her return to awareness leads immediately to her attention affixing upon my hands as I add milk to my tea. I slow my actions, drawing out the slow swirl of the spoon, wrapping my fingers around the cup, threading my middle finger through the handle.

The finger that was in her.

Her eyes are rather glazed when they first meet mine, but awareness soon flares, and she looks quickly away and shifts in her seat.

Interesting – is she excited?

She looks towards me again. I quirk one eyebrow as both reply and query. Flush intensified, her next restless movements cause her knee to brush mine. My cock hardens.

Indeed, she is interested.

My lips twitch, and I do nothing to hide my grin. It is time to intensify matters.

The first bite of éclair is perfectly normal. Her shoulders relax slightly. The second bite is more calculated – I ensure that an adequate amount of chocolate coats my lower lip as I maneuver the confection away from my mouth. Slowly, ever so slowly – seduction never being served by haste – I lap at the sauce and am rewarded by dual delights: its rich taste on my tongue and her reaction. The dilation of her pupils, the quickening of her breath, the flush staining her cheeks.

She is beautiful when aroused. What would she look like while riding my cock, while spread under me, while climaxing?

She touches her cheek, and my erection twitches against the soft cotton of my pants. I do nothing to hide my pleasure.

Perhaps it will not be so long before I have another bed partner.

Her eyes jerk away, and my attention follows hers to refocus on Minerva. “… will be our new Arithmancy Master. She is a Hogwarts alumnus and a distinguished war hero.” Minerva pauses to bestow a smile of approval on Granger. “But on an even happier note, allow me to lead us all in congratulating Professor Granger on her engagement to another of our young war heroes, Ronald Weasley.”

Bloody, fucking hell! How could she even conceive of such a thing?

She busies herself with accepting the congratulations of the other staff members.

My molars ache in protest, but I find myself unable to relax my jaw.

By the time she turns to me, I am able to school my features somewhat. I am not, however, able to keep my tone from displaying trenchant sardonicism. “Congratulations, Professor Granger. Although it is a pity that after having endeavored for so long to obtain this specific appellation that you would relinquish it so quickly.”

It is Minerva who answers. “Why, Severus, whoever said she was going to change her last name?”