A Little Prep

Chapter 3 ~ A Little Prep

Both Ron and Harry were amazed when Severus strode into the Great Hall, sat down, and began to pull food toward him, piling it on his plate. He looked . . . well . . . great.

"Blimey, what happened to you?" Ron asked the wizard.

"Nothing," Severus said, helping himself to string beans.

Harry studied him.

"You're not sick anymore," he said a bit suspiciously.

"People do get better," Severus said, diving into his food.

He was so hungry he could have given Ron a run for his money. He wanted to be sure he had plenty of energy for tonight.

Hermione watched the young wizard tuck away his food. He certainly was putting it away. Maybe if she were lucky, he'd get a terrible stomach ache and she'd be able to postpone their "date."

No. It was best just to do it and get it over with.

She picked at her chicken.

Albus, who was sitting at the end of the table, noticed with interest that Severus was looking quite fit. He gave a thin smile. That could only mean one thing. The impossible oath had become possible. He looked down the table at his Potions mistress. Ah, she was picking at her food. The only time Hermione picked at her food was when something was weighing on her mind.

The Headmaster had no doubt that this particular load was none other than Severus Snape. Well, hopefully the witch would make the best of the situation. She had been alone for a long time, far too long.

Severus made quick work of his meal and stood up.

"What's the rush?" Ron asked him as Severus slung his knapsack over one shoulder.

"I have some studying I need to do," Severus replied, leaving.

Harry and Ron looked after him.

"Well, as long as he gets off on studying so much, maybe he'll be all right not shagging," Ron commented, biting into a potato.

Harry just shook his head and returned to his meal, glad his friend had recovered.

* * *

Severus quickly entered his bedroom, threw off his knapsack and securely warded his door. Then he walked over to the wardrobe and removed the bottom drawer. He reached in and felt around a bit until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out two shimmers. He pointed his wand at them.

"Finite Incantatem," he breathed.

In his hands appeared two very well-worn books. He smiled and carried them to his bed, then lay down on his stomach, looking at the titles. He had been studying these particular books in private since the end of his fifth year. He knew them cover to cover, although he had never had a chance to put any of his knowledge into practice; though goodness knows he had tried. Well, that was about to change.

What were the titles of these great books of knowledge?

The first was The Joy of Sex and the second, The Illustrated Book of Kama Sutra.

As far as Severus was concerned, they were both required reading for any intelligent wizard who wanted to master the art of shagging. The moment he began to have sexual urges concerning witches, he started studying the proper way to shag them. He was a perfectionist to the end.

He began leafing through the pages and stopped on a page that gave suggestions on how to stop premature ejaculation. It was common in young men who were just starting sexual activity. He didn't want that to happen. As he read through the chapter, he began thinking.

Hold it. He shouldn't have to worry about this. He lived in a magical world. There were magical ways to stop him up. And he already had the answer, thanks to the oath.

Severus rolled out of the bed and summoned a house-elf, sending it to the infirmary to get an extra strength bottle of Stamina Potion from Poppy. The mediwitch didn't yet know he had recovered, so she sent it down directly, figuring he was out.

Severus might have been a Gryffindor, but he was a rather shady one when it suited him.

The young wizard thanked the elf, tossed the bottle up into the air and caught it, smiling. He was well now, so most likely the potion would work on him as if he hadn't been taking it all day. Just to be on the safe side, he'd drink it just before he shagged the professor.

He was going to make tonight last as long as possible.

* * *

Hermione sat in her study, dressed in a housecoat and sipping a brandy. From time to time her brown eyes drifted to the clock on the mantle. It was after ten now, and still Severus hadn't arrived. She popped a chocolate bon-bon into her mouth. She liked how chocolate and brandy complemented each other.

If she were lucky, her randy Potions student would suffer the fate of most overly eager young men getting their first piece, and the tryst would be over almost as soon as it started. So, she decided to look relatively sexy and wore a short, Slytherin green nightie beneath her robes. She'd probably have to stand for a few kisses and artless gropes from the boy, but was relatively sure he'd want to get right to the main event. Men weren't wired for much foreplay. Sometimes it took years for them to figure out a woman wanted more than her heels summarily thrust into the air.

Well, then again, Mr. Snape had indicated he wanted to perform oral sex on her. Hermione had nothing against it, provided it was done properly, but she didn't hold out much hope on that. He was what, eighteen years old? As long as he didn't actually bite her or snag her clit on a tooth, she'd let him try. Anything to get this over with.

Suddenly, she heard a loud pounding.

Oh, good gods! Was the idiot trying to beat the door in?

Wand in hand, Hermione stalked through the study wall into her office and pulled the door open.

Severus stood there, a big smile plastered on his face.

"I'm here," he announced happily.

"I'm sure all of Hogwarts knows you're here, the way you were pounding on my door, you simpleton. Now get in here!" she snarled at the young wizard.

Severus walked in, his eyes fixed on Hermione's housecoat as if he could see through it. Hermione scowled at him.

"Through there," she said to him, pointing at the open wall.

Severus nearly streaked through it.

Hermione ran her hand over her face as the wizard disappeared into her private rooms.

"Gods, Albus, what I don't do for you," she sighed, walking in after the wizard and closing the wall behind her.

* * *

Hermione turned to find Severus standing in front of her fireplace, his head tilted back, draining the contents of a bottle. Did the boy need a bit of liquid courage?

"What are you doing?" she demanded, walking up to Severus and snatching the now empty bottle out of his hand. She read the label, then looked at him, her eyes wide.

"Extra Strength Stamina Potion?" she asked him incredulously.

"Yes. Young wizards have a problem with premature ejaculation. So I wanted to make sure I wouldn't. This is my first time, so of course I want it to last," he said to her, his dark eyes once again zeroing in on her housecoat.

"Of course," Hermione said, throwing her hands up in defeat.

Well, so much for the quick route.

Severus began to quickly unbutton his robes.

"What . . . are . . . you . . . doing?" Hermione hissed at the wizard, who continued working at his robes.

"Getting naked," he responded, not looking up. "I have to be naked, don't I?"

"Whoa. Slow down there, Speedy. We've got to lay a few ground rules first," Hermione said to the wizard. "You're not going to just come in here, rip off your robes, and tackle me . . ."

"Of course not," Severus said, opening his robes and revealing a strong, pale, nearly hairless young body clad in very tented black boxers. "You require at least forty-five minutes to an hour of foreplay to be properly prepared."

Hermione blinked at the wizard as he peeled off his robes, tossed them on the back of one of the armchairs, then started toeing off his boots.

Dear gods. She'd forgotten she was dealing with Hogwarts' proverbial walking brain. No doubt he had studied for this like he did everything else.

It was clear young Severus Snape intended to have sex by the book.

Shit.

* * *

Hermione eyed the young wizard, who now stood in readiness, not even looking at her face, staring at the house robe that concealed her body from him.

"Er . . . Mr. Snape . . . eye contact," she said to the wizard, who looked up at her, his eyes shifting back downward a couple of times before he could actually focus.

Looking at the young wizard, Hermione had to admit he was a handsome specimen, though his youth was evident. He was lean and sinewy, with well developed abs and legs like runner's legs. Spare black hair peppered his thighs and calves. His feet were rather big, and judging by the enormous size of the tent in his boxers, the statement about wizards with big noses and feet was true, at least in his case.

"Now, would you mind telling me just where you heard I'd require the amount of foreplay you believe I do?" she asked him, frowning at the excited look on his face.

"I didn't hear it. I researched it. I've been studying sex since my fifth year. It's quite fascinating in theory," the wizard replied. "I can't wait for the actual application."

He took a tentative step toward Hermione, who scowled at him blackly. He stopped.

"Well, you're going to wait," she snapped at him. "At least until I get some kind of understanding of what you think is going to happen. How did you research this, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Textbooks," he replied shortly, his eyes helplessly falling back to her housecoat.

"Textbooks? What kind of textbooks? Biology?" the witch demanded.

"Oh, no, Professor. Biology books just talk about the function, not the skills involved. I've read The Joy of Sex and The Illustrated Book of the Kama Sutra from cover to cover at least a hundred times apiece. I know what I'm supposed to do, and . . . and I have a couple of positions I'd like to try too . . ."

Hermione looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Mr. Snape. I'm not a joy witch that you can just twist into any contorted position and go to town on. My gods, boy. Don't you have any sense of propriety?" she asked him, shaking her head.

"I don't think I'm supposed to when it comes to sex. Propriety ruins it from what I understand," he replied logically. "I'm supposed to be . . . open and willing and adventurous."

He licked his lips as his eyes moved lower, resting on her thighs. For a moment, Hermione felt like covering up in something more than a house robe.

"Am I going to have to wait long?" he asked her, a bit of a whine in his voice.

Hermione sighed. It made no sense to try and put this off any longer. The boy looked as if he were going to explode if he wasn't huffing and thrusting in the next five minutes.

"Come on, Mr. Snape. And I don't need forty-five minutes worth of foreplay. In fact, I don't need any. We can just get right to the fucking," she said as she entered her bedroom.

Severus' mouth dropped open at her use of such foul language. It was as if he were frozen in place. Hermione stuck her head back out the door.

"Are you coming, Mr. Snape?" she snapped at him.

"Yes," he breathed, hurrying into the bedroom behind the witch. He looked around the dismal room. She only had a four-poster bed, a dresser, a wardrobe, and a wooden chair. There were no paintings or decorations of any type. It was quite austere. There wasn't even a rug on the cold stone floor.

Hermione turned to look at him.

"I . . . I want to do foreplay," Severus said, frowning at her slightly. "I want to learn about your body and what to do to it to make it respond to me. I can't learn that if I just have intercourse with you. It's all part of shagging."

Hermione snorted.

"Mr. Snape, you are probably the only wizard in the wizarding world who ever bothered to crack the cover of The Joy of Sex. Believe me, men function without foreplay just fine. All they need is a willing female and they go into automatic. That tent in your shorts proves the truth of that statement," the witch said, looking at his fabric covered erection. It certainly was large.

"Maybe we are easily aroused, but that doesn't mean we're all the same. I know I don't want to rush through this, Professor. I don't want it to be terrible. I want you to like it," he said softly. Then suddenly, he ran back into the other room.

Hermione sighed again. He wanted her to like it? How in the hell could she like it? The only reason she'd agreed to bed the boy was to keep him from becoming worm food.

Severus returned with his wand.

"I'm supposed to set the mood," he said to her, flicking his wand.

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

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Hermione started as she heard a wah-wah sound; then sensuous music began to play.

I been really trying baby, trying to hold back this feeeeeling for soooo loooong, and if you...

Hermione slashed her wand, stopping the music.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded, looking at Severus incredulously.

"Mood music. I researched it, and that's supposed to be the song that is shagged to the most," he said, both eyebrows raised. "I thought you'd like it."

"Well, I don't!" she snapped. "Do me a favor, Mr. Snape. Save your attempts at making this a 'romantic' situation, because it isn't. I'm doing this only to keep you from dying, you silly fool. No other reason. I am not attracted to you."

Severus looked at her, his face sober.

"You're not attracted to me yet. Maybe you will be when this is all over, and you'll let me come back," he said softly, his eyes full of emotion.

"That will never, ever happen, Mr. Snape," she spat at him. "Believe me."

Snape blinked at her, then lifted his hand, concentrated, and tapped his wand to his fingertips. Slowly a rose formed, colored a deep purple and black. It was beautiful. He held it out to her. Hermione had never seen anything like it.

"It's for you," he said softly. "I made it for you like this just to show you that . . . that to me, you're like this rose, Professor. It's beautiful, but it's colored with . . . with pain. I just want . . . just want . . ."

The wizard's voice faltered as he looked at the witch, who was staring at the flower he held out in his pale hand. No, Mr. Snape wasn't smooth or suave. He didn't know what he was supposed to say to make her be less cruel to him, so he did what many males before him had done in order to win a woman over . . . made a gesture. And it was an honest one.

"Please," he implored her. "Please take it, Professor."

Hermione hesitated, then slowly approached the young wizard and took the flower from him. She sniffed it. Yes, it was a real rose. An amazing bit of magic, really. It took deep emotion to sustain a living thing . . . emotion and a bit of soul. The wizard had given her a part of his soul. No one had ever done that before.

No one.

"Thank you, Mr. Snape," she said.

"You're welcome, Professor," the wizard breathed.

* * *

Hermione turned, walked over to her bare dresser, created a small glass vase, and put the rose in it with a bit of water. Then she turned.

"Shit!" she cried.

Severus had moved behind her and was almost right on top of her, startling the witch. Mere inches away, he looked at her, heat in his black eyes.

"Mr. Snape! Must you intrude on my personal space like this?" she said to the wizard, pushing at his chest.

He didn't budge.

"Yes," he said, licking his lips. "I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?"

Hermione sighed as the boy leaned toward her.

"All right, Mr. Snape . . . just . . . mmmmph!"

Severus latched on to Hermione's mouth like a blood-sucking niflick, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her hard, his body pressing into hers hungrily. She could feel the hardness and length of his cock pushing against her pelvis as the young wizard hung on, attempting to bend her back over the dresser.

Gah! She couldn't breathe!

Desperately, she pinched his side, and Severus yelped, releasing her mouth but still holding on to her body. Gods, she was so round and . . .

"Severus Snape! I do breathe air, and my lips are made of flesh, not wood!" she gasped at him. "I refuse to walk around Hogwarts looking as if I had too much Muggle Botox injected into my lips! Stop kissing me so hard!"

"I'm . . . I'm sorry. I usually kiss better than this. It's just that . . . it's you," he breathed at her passionately. "Let me try again, please."

His eyes were so desperate, Hermione gave in. Gods, were all young wizards so passionate? Well, this was his first time, after all. He was a male, not a female. He wouldn't be a shy and retiring virgin.

"Go ahead, Mr. Snape. But gently. Gently," she said, closing her eyes and pursing her lips.

She waited and nothing happened, though she could feel the wizard breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling against her breasts. Hermione opened one eye.

He was staring at her.

"What?" she snapped at him, irritated by this waste of time.

"Could you say it again?" he asked her breathlessly.

She scowled at him.

"Say what?" she asked him.

"My name. You said my name. Severus. It sounded . . . wonderful to hear you say it," he responded. "Please call me by my name, Professor. Not Mr. Snape."

Hermione blinked at him.

"Well, if I do this, I don't expect you to be so familiar. This might be an intimate situation, but we are not actually that intimate," the witch responded.

"I'll keep calling you Professor if you like, but please call me by my name," he said to her.

"All right, Severus," she said, and the wizard once again attacked her mouth, but much more gently, working his lips against hers sensuously. He really did know how to kiss, and his grip relaxed somewhat as if realizing she wasn't going to break away from him.

His young body moved against hers helplessly as he drank in her lips, his senses whirling. She smelled like flowers. Like jasmine. And she was so soft, so round, so full . . . not like the young witches who felt as if they'd break in his arms. Gods, he wanted to get closer. Tentatively, he attempted to slip his tongue into Hermione's mouth, tapping it on her closed lips. He felt them part slightly, and his breathing increased as he entered that warm, wet sweet place, exploring it. He began to shudder against her, unable to hide the urgency his body felt.

Hermione was a bit impressed. Severus was a very good kisser, and his ardor was becoming a bit contagious. She felt his hand slide up her back. He couldn't feel her scars because she wore both the nightie and the house robe still. Well, he would have to feel them and see them sometime.

Maybe they would turn him off.

Hermione felt a bit of a twinge at this possibility. The tree on her back was a large deterrent to her becoming intimate with anyone. She had been through hell, but was a strong enough woman not to let it destroy her completely. She knew not all men were brutes and could separate true attraction from soulless possession. Still, that ugly mass of scars that followed her spine and spread branches across her upper back marred her body, which already wasn't perfect. She was certain that any potential lover would be revolted by that tree. If Severus was revolted, she'd let him go . . . but . . . that would be confirmation that she was a ruined witch. That Voldemort had truly left his mark.

"Your house robe . . . Take it off," Severus said against her mouth. "I want to touch you, Professor."

He certainly knew what he wanted. Hermione decided to let him run with this. It wasn't completely terrible now that he had some modicum of control, though she could feel him shaking a bit.

"Let me go," she said softly.

Severus released her, stepping back a few inches, watching her hands as she untied the sash to her robe and opened it, revealing the Slytherin green nightie that fell mid-thigh, held up by thin straps over her shoulders. She did have large breasts, and her hips were rounded, her waist a bit thick. Her legs were very shapely and strong looking.

The young wizard let out a noise when she removed the robe and laid it on the dresser. Hermione looked at him as he fastened his eyes to her body. The expression on his face was one of . . . awe.

"You're beautiful," Severus breathed. "You don't look like you'd break."

Break?

"I'm no teenage witch, Mr. . . Severus. I'm not nubile or thin . . ." she began.

"No, but that's good. You're a real woman," he replied, cutting her off as he looked into her eyes.

"I don't have to worry with you. You're not going to cry or push me away or . . ." he said, his soft voice quavering a bit.

Hermione couldn't help but be moved by the young wizard's appreciation of her. It came from his heart. These were no empty words meant to win her over. It was truly how he felt. Of course, everything he said was in relation to his own desires, but still it was clear he believed that she was everything that he wanted in a witch. Who, even a snarky Potions mistress, wouldn't find that affecting?

Hermione caught herself, however.

"I will be pushing you away if you do anything untoward, Severus," she said to the young wizard.

Severus had no idea what she meant by untoward as he moved in again, pulling her soft body against his, letting out something between a groan and a whimper as he felt the thin cloth between them. He could feel the heat of the witch's body now, the curves of it clearly. He kissed her again, hungrily, sliding his hands up her back . . .

He stiffened. So did Hermione as he felt the scars underneath the thin silk.

He released her, stepping back.

"Turn around," he said to her in a low voice.

Hermione looked up at him and said nothing. Let the boy see her marks, her shame. She turned around almost insolently, listening to him breathe.

Severus' black eyes looked at the few branches that rose above the fabric of Hermione's nightgown. Raised welts, obviously from a scourge. The wizard stepped closer, and Hermione closed her eyes as she felt him gently catch hold of her straps and lower them down her arms as far as they would go, revealing the head of the tree and all its branches. Severus pulled her nightgown down to the small of her back, taking in the thick mass that made up the trunk of the tree.

He didn't say anything, and Hermione's eyes began to glisten helplessly as the first male in ages looked upon her ruined body.

"Still want to shag your professor?" she suddenly snapped, pain in her voice as she stood facing away from him. "As I said, I'm no lovely young thing. I've been marked. Scarred. Not the 'beautiful body' you fantasized about, is it?"

Severus could hear her bitterness.

What had she gone through during all those years of service? What kind of monster would do this to a witch? He scowled blackly.

"I wish we could kill Voldemort again," he said softly, his voice full of quiet rage, "but this time, I'd want to do it myself. Kill him slowly and painfully for doing this to you, Professor. But you're still beautiful . . . even more so because you didn't run from this. You continued in your service until the end. It isn't a mass of scars, but a testament to how brave, selfless and courageous you truly are. Trees represent new life and rebirth. Overcoming death and growing stronger. That's you, Professor, and you are beautiful, believe me."

Hermione blinked back tears as the young wizard gently moved into her back, wrapping his arms around her waist and tenderly kissing her naked shoulders, moving to her throat for a moment, his mouth soft, warm, and appreciative on her skin.

"Beautiful," he breathed, his warm breath curling against her ear.

And that was the breaking point for Hermione Granger, the point where the ice around her heart and the walls around her spirit crumbled. Of course they would be erected again, but tonight, just for one night . . . she was vulnerable to this passionate young wizard whispering in her ear.

She wanted to believe him.

* * *

Severus was now on more familiar ground. He had gotten to this point with younger witches, having them partially undressed, kissing and caressing their bodies. He was very good at it. It was the "close" that got him every time. He stopped trembling, the combination of empathy with the witch in his arms and the desire to comfort her helping to center him and take his mind off his own needs.

Slowly, he rubbed Hermione's soft belly, continuing his soft kisses on her shoulders, throat, and temple, his large hands moving over her skin appreciatively before he slowly began to move them upwards toward the witch's full breasts.

Wanting to be sure he had her permission, he breathed in her ear, "Can I, Professor?" his hands coming to rest just under her full bosom, still kissing her throat.

"Yes," Hermione replied, her eyes still closed, feeling the wizard pressed gently against her back. Severus expelled a breath as his hands cupped Hermione's breasts.

"Oh, my gods," he breathed, fondling her gently, then remembering how sensitive the nipples were supposed to be and tweaking them lightly. He was rewarded with a small gasp from the Potions mistress, her buttocks pressing back into him lightly. He smoothed his palms over them and received another heartening response.

Hermione opened her eyes partially and saw that they were standing directly in front of the mirror on her dresser, her partially clad body visible, the wizard behind her, head bent, black hair dragging over her shoulders as he kissed her throat, both hands moving over her breasts, their bodies moving slightly against each other.

It was very sexy and clear that Severus didn't realize the view that was before him, he was so into touching and tasting her. Hermione watched and felt him, sighing now, feeling desire starting to creep over her. It had been a very long time, after all, and Severus, young as he was, had a certain artfulness to his ministrations.

He seemed to be a natural.

"Severus, look in the mirror," Hermione breathed.

Severus looked up, his black eyes large and luminous as he saw them in the mirror, and drew in a sudden breath, his hands becoming more ardent as they slid over her body, down to the nightie still wrapped around her waist, up her sides and over her breasts. He watched himself and Hermione.

"Gods, you're so beautiful, Professor," he breathed, pressing into her harder. "Look at us. I never thought . . . I dreamed, but I never . . ."

"Sssh, you're here for a purpose, Severus . . . to save your life," Hermione said to him softly.

"No. I'm not," he said, turning the witch around to face him, his face sober. "I'm here for much more than that, Professor . . . so much more than that . . ."

And he kissed her, trying to pour all the feeling in his young heart into his possession of her mouth. Severus was very aware that being with the professor would be quite different than being with Luna or Pansy. They were little more than girls. Even though he had no idea what Hermione had experienced sexually, he knew at one time or another she must have had someone who had given her pleasure. She knew what it was like and would most likely judge his performance by it.

He didn't know if he could match whomever she had been with before, but maybe if he could make her understand how much he felt, he'd stand a chance of making some headway into her heart. Having experienced her like this, he knew even before they became intimate, he'd want to be with her like this again. Now she wasn't cold, wasn't cruel. He thought he would like her that way, but he liked her this way even more. Accessible and responsive. He didn't think she responded to anyone this way, or if she had, not in a long, long time. And that was what made this special. It would be nice if she only acted this way toward him.

As Severus kissed her, his pale hands slid down her sides and hooked into the nightie's fabric.

"I'm going to take this off," he breathed against Hermione's mouth, not asking her. It was time to show her that even though he was young, he could make her feel as beautiful as he believed her to be. He had to act like a man, not a scared schoolboy. Everything was riding on this.

Hermione didn't say a word as the wizard knelt, slowly pulling down her nightgown, his hands sliding over her hips, thighs and calves reverently, his breath quickening as her body was completely revealed, the chestnut curls of her sex before his smoldering eyes. He paused there, inhaling, feeling his mouth water. Then he stood up, more aware of how ready he was than before.

"You're going to let me . . . let me taste you, aren't you, Professor?" he asked her, licking his lips without knowing he was doing it. "You won't stop me, will you?"

Hermione blinked up at him, a little of her snarkiness returning.

"I'm not going to let you just toss me into the bed and dive in, if that's what you mean," she snapped at him.

Severus looked taken aback. No, that's not what he meant at all. He meant as part of the forty-five minutes of foreplay.

"Oh, no. No. I'll do other things first . . . to get you ready," he breathed.

"You're going to have to be good at them, because if I'm not feeling it, I'm not going to let you do it," she warned him, her eyes narrowed.

Severus' cock bounced at that familiar look. It still turned him on.

"You'll feel it," he promised. "I'm going to make you feel everything. You're going to feel like the most beautiful witch in the world."

Hermione's lip curled just a little. It seemed all men had a bit of braggart in them, even the virgins. She was about to say something else when Severus suddenly pulled down his boxers and stepped out of them.

Hermione had to struggle to keep her jaw from dropping as her eyes rested on a tool that seemed to belong on Hagrid. Dear gods. Did the boy have Incubus blood? He was fucking enormous. No wonder the girls wouldn't engage him. He was as big around as a heavy duty broomstick and damn near a foot long. Being uncircumcised only added to the apparent girth of the wizard.

Her eyes widened despite her attempt not to appear taken aback.

Severus looked at her a bit worriedly.

"Well, that's it," he said, looking down at his cock with a slight frown. "Pansy called it the 'Serpent of Gryffindor' just before she took off."

Hermione fought back a laugh as she looked up at the wizard. He seemed so pensive. Most men would be strutting about like roosters with a wand like that. He still had so much to learn about his own sexuality. Being big was normally not a bad thing, but when dealing with young witches, it probably was a bit of a problem. They weren't ready for it.

"What do you think, Professor?" he asked her softly, his eyes resting on her face.

"I think nature has been very kind to you, Severus. You'll grow into it," she said, trying to keep a straight face.

"You aren't worried?" he asked her, a bit of hope in his voice now.

Well, she was a little worried. This was going to be his first encounter, and he had drunk an entire bottle of Stamina Potion. He could beat her to death with that thing if he lost control. And it was very likely he might.

"Severus, you listen to me, and you listen good. If I tell you to stop, you stop, or I'm going to toss you out of here on your randy little ass. To meet the conditions of your oath, all I really need to do is let you enter me once. That counts as intimacy, technically. I don't have to do anything more. So, if you can't control yourself and start tearing into me, it's going to be over quick. Do you understand me?" she asked the wizard, frowning at him.

Severus' eyes washed over her body.

"I'll take my time, I promise," he breathed at her.

"All right," she said, her eyes sweeping over the wizard again. He really was quite a yummy young thing. "Now, we . . ."

Hermione let out a little shriek as Severus swept her up into his arms easily, strode across her bedroom, gently placed her on the four-poster, then scrambled in after her.

"Now, we do it," he breathed, covering her mouth in a passionate kiss.

* * *

A/N: Whoo hoo! Thanks to my beta, Notsosaintly, and thanks for reading. ***