Hermione, Grimmauld Place and kitchen table

This is the second drabble I wrote for the second challenge I was given on the Potter_Place chat for the drabble challenge on 4/26/08. This is also a one-shot, my second challenge from that night so I posted them together, not a second chapter.

Please be warned: This is racy - okay, down right explicit! It is MA(NC-17) for a very good reason. Sorry, but this is all there is. But feel free to imagine!

2.) Words used were: One of the golden trio (Hermione), Grimmauld Place and kitchen table

~~x~~

“The good thing about living here – the books – all those books. Even if I have to have kitchen duty, I still get the library to myself,” Hermione mumbled as she carried the dirty dishes to the sink. As usual, Ron had ditched out as soon as Mrs. Weasley mentioned kitchen duty, and Harry had been right on his heels. Therefore, she was alone in the kitchen. She turned around, started to collect the glasses, and felt a breeze pass her.

Turning, she saw nothing, but could have sworn something passed by her.

Shrugging, she returned to her chore, gathering the glasses and carrying them to the sink. As she set the glasses down, she was certain that she felt someone or something brush against her back.

Tuning, she only saw an empty kitchen.

She waited, listening for any sound that would give away Ron or Harry under the cloak, but the only sounds were the running water in the sink and the scratch of the scrub as it magically began to clean the dishes. Shrugging again, she picked up a sponge to wipe down the kitchen table. She nearly jumped as she felt cool hands slide under her skirt and legs in wool trousers pin her to the table. “Hey!” she cried out, but the hands gripped her tightly, pulled her back against him, and she could feel his arousal. “Stop and identify your…” she demanded just before a finger slid under her knickers, sliding along the edge. “No, don’t – Ron – no! Stop this!” A firm body pressed down on her, cupping her tightly to him and she could feel his breath on her cheek. “I said, no!” She tried kicking him, but he anticipated the move, effortlessly pinning her again.

“I most certainly am not Ronald,” a deep silky voice said from behind her, just before her hair was swept to the side and Severus kissed her neck. “But by all means – I’ll stop. Just say the word.” His fingers found her folds, circling her clitoris.

“We’ll be seen,” Hermione said in a throaty moan. His lips on her neck and his deft fingers were making her knees weak. “I thought Grimmauld Place was haunted for a moment!”

She heard him laugh softly. “No, only me, no ghost.”

“The others!” she gasped, struggling against him, only eliciting a silky chuckle from him.

“I’m no fool; I’ve warded the kitchen. I don’t want any of the occupants,” he said, tearing her knickers, “to interrupt your kitchen duties.” Hermione inhaled sharply as he tore away her kickers. “Or to miss the opportunity to indulge you,” he continued, and Hermione felt his penis slide between her legs. “Open up,” he instructed.

She spread her legs, still partly bent over the table, and he slipped inside her, his one hand still pressed to her groin, stimulating her clitoris. “Gods, I’m supposed to…”

“Yes,” he said, drawing the word out slowly.

“Clean the kitchen,” she purred.

“So do it,” Severus said smoothly, gliding in and out of her. “You’ve a wand; don’t let me stop you.”

Hermione tried. The pitcher sailed to the sink, barely catching on the edge as Severus’ fingers flicked her clit. The serving bowls sailed next, one crashing to the floor as a pleasurable jolt, which seemed to electrify every nerve she had from her knees to her chest, shot through her. “Tsk, tsk, can’t you do better than that?” he chided her, sounding amused. The last bowl fell in the sink with a crash as the sensations caused by his lovemaking climbed to a peak. “Such a lack of concentration.”

“I’m only – oh, gods! Concentrating on y-you – oh Mother of Merlin!” she stammered as her body tightened as she neared her climax.

“No, Severus,” he drawled out. “Say it.”

“Severus – oh gods, Severus!” she screamed as her orgasm overcame all thought and reason.

She could hear him come, his ragged breathing, feel the tightening of his hands as he thrust into her hard, and nearly pushed her into the table. “Merlin, girl, oh how you undo me,” he growled.

When he pulled out, she stood, turned around and hugged him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said smugly.

Suddenly the confused voice of Mrs. Weasley made them break apart. “Oh, Severus, you’re back!” she exclaimed entering the kitchen. “You don’t need to help Hermione clean up; Ron was supposed to.” She saw the serving bowl shards on the floor. “What the…?

“I startled Miss Granger,” Severus said smoothly. “So how about it, Miss Granger, are you going to give me something to eat or not?”

Hermione looked at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. Thankfully, Mrs. Weasley missed it while repairing the bowl. “And just what would you like to eat, Professor?”

‘You,’ he mouthed and then added, “Anything you’ve to offer me would be fine.”

‘Later – my room,’ she mouthed back and turned to ladle him some stew.