A Well-crafted Plan

Disclaimer: I'm not profiting financially from the publication of this silly little story.

Thanks to kittylefish and persevero for their immense help in whipping this chapter into shape. Kittylefish especially helped with some crucial de-purpling.

Chapter Nine - A Well-crafted Plan

Hermione fiddled impatiently with a beer mat while she sat waiting for Severus to arrive at the Leaky Cauldron. They'd been officially seeing each other for nearly two months with minimal success. Oh, it was nice enough when their schedules actually coincided, but chances to meet in person were so rare that they'd begun a rather regular and lengthy owl correspondence. They had, however, managed to broach several difficult conversations in person. She'd certainly expected him to continue his reticence, but he seemed to take his promise to open up to heart. Severus had described the painful revelations of his marathon discussion with Albus as well as several of the more challenging aspects of his role as former spy. She'd spoken several times about Ron's death and her subsequent depression. To her surprise, Severus had encouraged her to mend her friendship with Harry. Yes, the emotional aspect of their relationship was going swimmingly.

No, what really had Hermione's knickers in a twist was the fact that their physical relationship had not progressed to match their emotional one. Her reignited libido reminded her daily, sometimes hourly, that perhaps she should take a more direct approach to moving the relationship forward. If Severus chivalrously rejected her invitation into her flat one more time, she would not be held responsible for the magic unleashed by a libido that was clearly unsatisfied by frantic snogging and cautious gropes in the hallway.

Tonight offered a rare opportunity to move things forward. Her project with the Unspeakables had finally ended, and Severus had roughly a week before his schedule was overrun with OWL and NEWT duties. Always methodical when confronted with any problem, Hermione Granger had developed a plan to lure Severus Snape back to her den. Spying her beloved as he entered the Cauldron, she downed the last of the Firewhisky she was drinking for a bit of courage and stood to greet him.

As was their habit, Severus and Hermione shuffled into seats in the back row of the book club with moments to spare before the start of this second to last meeting. Thankfully, the book club had become considerably more tolerable since their presentation. No longer feeling as if they were attending worship service at the House of Nigel Reese, several participants had begun voicing what would be considered mild criticism in a normal venue but was usually taken as slanderous blasphemy by the book's staunchest devotees. It had made for several entertaining tiffs, particularly during the week in which participants were encouraged to bring dishes made from their favourite recipes, preferably from The Witches of Gilford Cookbook. The Flourish and Blotts staff would certainly have to consult The Witches of Gilford Guide to Housecleaning Charms in order to remove the myriad of ensuing stains from the floor.

Severus couldn't help but preen when he thought about how well their relationship had progressed. Well, he'd had a bit of help from the mild variant of Veritaserum that he'd downed before several of their early dates. It only made him more agreeable, rather than compelled to reveal information ... a bit like alcohol, he supposed, though without the accompanying loss of motor control. He supposed it had been a bit underhanded of him, but, in his defence, he had tapered the dose over time. Well, he had once he'd realised that Hermione wasn't going to throw him out on his ear for some of the deeds tucked away in his past. It occasionally still made him a bit dizzy to realise that when she promised unconditional acceptance, she genuinely meant it.

His body reminded him rather crudely every morning that he had a witch ready and waiting, and by all accounts eager, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't quite ready for the emotions that would accompany the act. And while he would certainly never admit it to Hermione, he wasn't about to push the issue until he was convinced she wouldn't be mentally comparing his equipment and performance with that of the late Ronald Weasley. Well, that and he was terrified that crossing the line into actual sexual relations would uncover emotional land-mines for Hermione that he was assuredly ill-equipped to help her defuse. He'd managed to suss out that Weasley had been her only lover. He smothered a laugh when thinking that if Weasley's Quidditch or Potions performance were any indicators, then Severus surely had no worries of embarrassing himself with a subpar performance. Par would have been set sufficiently low as to guarantee success.

Shaken from his reverie by Matilda Broomshanks's instruction that all participants arrange their chairs in a circle for the week's discussion, Severus settled in to watch the cat fight that would hopefully accompany this week's meeting. He was reflecting on their usual date at the Cauldron and wondering if he should be concerned about the mischievous glint he'd seen in Hermione's eyes all evening when suddenly he felt Hermione place her hand upon his. Startled, he looked at her questioningly. For all the casual affection she regularly bestowed in more private settings, Hermione wasn't normally one for overt public displays of affection. Granted, the simple gesture of hand-holding wasn't an overwhelming display, but Hermione had been particularly paranoid about making their relationship known to this gossiping group. Severus was further alarmed when she leaned over to whisper in his ear and deliberately brushed her lips against that spot just underneath his earlobe before settling back into her seat. When she began seductively tracing her fingers over the hand she was holding, he wondered if someone had slipped a Lust Potion into her drink this evening.

It wasn't until he saw the smirk on Hermione's face that he fully realised she was executing a well-played and very public show of seduction. He vainly attempted to regain his composure as the evidence of her efforts threatened to become obvious. For good measure, Severus cast a Distraction Charm that willed anyone who looked at his person to pick up her copy of The Witches of Gilford and begin perusing the week's assigned chapters. He was appalled to hear the sound of rifling pages from roughly fifteen books. He blushed furiously when he looked up to see as many witches with their noses buried in the text. Leaning over, Severus hissed at Hermione, "You do not want to start this game with me, witch."

Hermione suppressed the shiver of lust that followed his threat and continued her ministrations on his hand, lightly tracing each of his fingers with hers. She'd seen the flurry of activity around the room and had immediately guessed what he had done. Feeling even more daring, knowing that they wouldn't be seen, Hermione slowly removed her hand from Severus's and placed it onto his thigh. She heard his barely audible answering gasp and began steeling herself for the revenge that he would surely deliver.

After hearing Severus cast another Distraction Charm, presumably on her own person, Hermione felt Severus's hand on her thigh. She grinned, knowing that her plan was succeeding.

Immensely thankful for the Distraction Charm, Severus felt his cock twitch when his hand brushed across the raised strap of a suspender belt. Fuck, does she wear this all the time? Or is it just part of tonight's diabolical plan? Severus thought, desperately trying to will his erection into submission or, at the very least, cooperation. It was true that he'd cast the Distraction Charm, but if his concentration failed then so would the charm, revealing his arousal to the entire room of randy witches. He'd heard several of them speculating on how delightful Nigel Reese might be in the bedroom, and he shuddered at the thought of them speculating about his own dimensions and talents. With renewed concentration, Severus continued repaying Hermione for her efforts. His fingertips began drawing slow, deliberate circles on the inside of her thigh. He crowed inwardly when he heard her breath hitch. Severus fought again to retain his concentration and control when he noticed that he could see two hardened nipples protruding beneath her simple, but alluring, burgundy dress.

Dammit, the witch was tempting him further by slowly edging her hand closer to his cock. Taking a deep breath to collect his wits, he reprimanded her with a pinch to her inner thigh that made her cry out. He sniggered quietly when all forty club participants turned to look in her direction then immediately picked up their books. He could barely restrain outright laughter when he saw Hermione turn to deliver a withering glare only to be forced to pick up her own book.

Hermione rejoiced at the knowledge that she certainly was losing the battle of seduction against Severus Snape, but it was doubtless that she would win the war. She relaxed, content to enjoy the attention that Severus continued to lavish on her thigh. His hand teased ever so slightly higher, and she wondered whether she might have to feign illness soon to escape being tortured within the confines of the book club. If necessary, swooning certainly wouldn't be difficult to accomplish. Merciful Merlin, his fingertips were, to be utterly trite and clichéd, magical.

Finally, just when he wondered how much longer he'd be able to maintain the Distraction Charm, the meeting ended. Standing abruptly, he snatched Hermione's hand in his own and turned to leave the room. Hearing the sound of forty books opening and Hermione's ensuing laughter, Severus cancelled the charm, relying on the folds of his cloak to conceal him from public view. He continued stalking to the front of Flourish and Blotts with such speed and determination that she might have thought him furious with her, had he not been an active participant in the evening's battle. The instant they stepped foot into Diagon Alley and outside the shop's wards, Severus immediately Disapparated them to the hallway outside her flat.

She had barely had a chance to recover from the bewildering sensation of Apparation when Severus shoved her against the hallway wall. Immediately his mouth was upon her as his hands grasped desperately at her hips, pulling her body flush with his. She gasped as she felt the results of the night's campaign press between her legs. She heard him groan aloud when his cock made contact with her and quickly began digging in her handbag for her wand so she could remove her flat's wards.

Hermione began clumsily removing the wards while Severus nibbled the entire length of her neck. His attentions left her with barely the wits to perform the task aloud, and she was certain they'd have caused complaints from the neighbours if they'd had to rely on her ability to disarm the wards silently. She fumbled with the wards again, realising with certainty and yet another flood of arousal that she would soon finally succeed in bedding her wizard. If she could ever remove the blasted wards. Damn Severus for insisting that she increase the security on her home. After attempting to disable the last ward five times, she finally succeeded.

Before she could so much as blink, Severus had moved her inside the flat, closed the door, shoved her against the opposite side of the wall she'd just left, and cast a series of wards, in between nips to her collarbone.

She shuddered when she felt her dress vanish and cried out when he began nibbling her nipple through her bra as his hand plunged into her knickers. Now well beyond the ability to cast spells herself, Hermione reached out to shove Severus's cloak from his shoulders and began unbuttoning his shirt, running her fingers across his nipples once they were revealed. Pausing in his attentions to her breast, he threw his head back and moaned deliciously as she tweaked his nipples. His eyes closed in pleasure at the same moment that his calloused fingertip found her clit. She frantically pulled him against her so she could kiss him, groaning when she felt his tongue sliding against hers. Cupping his arse in her hands, she crushed his body against hers, trapping his hand against her clit and driving his cock against her thigh.

Severus groaned again, pulled his mouth from hers, and demanded, "Bed!"

"Too far!" Hermione replied and pushed against his shoulders. After he refused to let go, she felt herself moving away from the wall as he dragged her with him.

Severus felt the backs of his thighs hit the top of the sofa and realised Hermione's intent. He lifted her up and dumped her unceremoniously onto the piece of furniture. Meanwhile, Hermione summoned her wand and cast the spell to block the Floo while Severus scrambled to the front side of the sofa and began shedding his remaining clothes as quickly as possible.

She had just finished removing her bra and knickers and was reaching to undo her suspender belt when Severus joined her on the sofa. "Leave it," he demanded as his tongue flickered against her nipple and he slid two fingers inside her. Severus alternated between laving and suckling her nipples and continued to caress her with his fingers, occasionally flicking his thumb across her swollen clit. Fuck, he couldn't believe how incredible she felt. Every time he withdrew his fingers, he could feel her greedily clinging to him, and he frantically avoided thinking about how she would feel surrounding his cock. With no uncertainty, he knew that he would last an embarrassingly short time once he entered her.

Hermione keened under his attentions and grew even more impatient. Yanking his hair so that his head tilted and their eyes met, Hermione begged, "Now, Severus. Please."

Needing no further requests, Severus kneeled between her thighs. He removed his fingers and rubbed his fist over his cock, spreading her moisture.

Hermione made a frustrated groan as she watched him. It was the first opportunity she'd had to see his cock, and she couldn't help but lick her lips as she watched his hand. She couldn't recall ever having considered a cock beautiful, but his was absolutely gorgeous.

Stopping his ministrations, Severus looked up to see Hermione's response and smirked proudly. He leaned down and kissed her gently, a marked difference from all the kisses they'd shared so far that evening, and his eyes closed involuntarily as he slowly eased his cock inside her. She felt like velvet, like heaven, like home. "Nnnnnng," Severus whimpered unintelligibly before he opened his eyes upon completely seating himself inside Hermione.

Slowly, he began to move inside her and was rewarded with a series of breathy moans. Severus dropped his right leg off the side of the sofa to bear most of his weight, leaving his right hand free to attend to her breasts.

Hermione's eyes fluttered shut, and she focused on the darts of pleasure coursing through her body. Oh, gods, this was so much better than she had imagined, and she had imagined it quite frequently. She was hyper-aware of him: the musky scent of his arousal, the whimpers and moans that kept escaping his mouth, the delicate way his fingers tweaked and pulled at her nipple, and every wrinkle and ridge of his cock. She revelled in all the sensations, moaning each time she felt the head of his cock nudge against her g-spot.

Too soon, Severus thought as he felt his control begin to slip. Reaching between them, he lightly flicked Hermione's clit and immediately felt her begin to contract around him. Relieved to find his efforts effective, he repeated the movement several times more before he felt the contractions that heralded the arrival of her orgasm. Unable to hold back any longer, he rubbed her clit one last time before crashing his lips against hers. His hips began to thrust wildly, and he threw his head back involuntarily, shouting as his orgasm overtook him. He vaguely registered her thrashing head and accompanying moans as he felt his orgasm crest.

Severus rested on his forearms above her as he panted, desperately trying to catch his breath. Hermione laced her arms around him and pulled him down so that he lay atop her, his cock still throbbing inside her as it began to soften. She guided his lips to hers, and he was unable to suppress a smile as they kissed.

"Gods, that was fantastic. If I'd known you were that amazing, I'd never have let you convince me to wait."

"I'm sure the hour of foreplay beforehand had everything to do with your satisfaction. I'll promise to be devastatingly abysmal next time around. It wouldn't do to have your expectations set too high," he teased.

To his surprise, she reached out and tickled him in retaliation. Tickled! He had never been tickled in his entire life. Hell, he was surprised to find that he even WAS ticklish. He flinched and felt his cock slip out of her. The sensation apparently caught her unawares as well, and he was able to grasp her wrists and arrest her attack. He silenced any arguments with a series of kisses that left them breathless. Again.

Fuck, this was entirely overwhelming. He felt like a cat caught in the sunlight streaming through a window. Other instincts be damned, he just wanted to bask in the rays. Bloody hell, he'd been practically emasculated by the experience. He was waxing poetic like a pathetic greeting card. Perhaps a distraction would allow him to reclaim his wits and dignity.

"As lovely as this is, I don't fancy another night on your sofa. My back wasn't right for days after the last time," Severus said as he stood from the sofa, giving Hermione his hand to help her up.

Hermione smiled and stood up from the sofa. She felt exceedingly self-conscious walking in front of him naked as she led him down the hallway. Although, she thought as she glanced at him, he certainly doesn't seem to have a problem with the view. Flicking on the bedroom light, she stopped short in the doorway causing Severus to run into her. Oh, bugger. She stared at her bed. She'd spent so much time thinking about sleeping with Severus Snape that she'd not spent any time thinking about the logistics of actually bringing him into her bed. She and Ron had purchased that bed just after they had married. She could still remember christening it with him. Hell, Ron had been quite the traditionalist; they'd never had sex anywhere but the bed. How could she possibly think about sharing it with another man?

Severus placed his hands on her shoulders as he asked, "Do you have extra sheets, love?"

Hermione gestured silently to the bathroom where presumably Severus could find the linen closet.

"Right, I'll go and transfigure the sofa, then."

As he departed to the sitting room, she continued staring at the bed as she leaned against the door frame. It made no sense whatsoever, but somehow this moment felt like the end of her marriage to Ron. Oh, she had known rationally that he was long gone. After all, how many nights had she cried herself to sleep alone in that very bed? But now, she was wilfully leaving the marriage behind. She couldn't help but feel like she was betraying him with Severus. Dashing tears away from her eyes, Hermione berated herself for ruining a perfect evening with Severus with her maudlin reflections. How could she not have considered this hitch in her seduction plans? Though she supposed it wasn't all that surprising. Lately, she'd been working so much that she barely had two brain cells left to rub together by the time she crawled into bed. No, she'd spent most of her waking time in the office - a place Ron had hardly ever ventured. She'd joked that all the books and colour-coordinated notes made him have nightmares of NEWTs revision, and she suspected that the joke was fairly close to the truth.

"I'll make us some tea," Severus said as he handed her the bathrobe he'd found hanging in the bathroom and left her standing in the hallway.

She really didn't understand this step backwards in her grieving for Ron. She'd had a much easier time talking about him lately. She really had thought that she was coming to be at peace with it. It still hurt sometimes, but their marriage, and his death, were firmly fixed in the past. It was hard to believe that just a couple of months ago his death had still been very much a part of her present. She was no longer a grieving widow, and she had Severus to thank for that.

Perhaps what bothered her most was that, against all rational expectations, Severus Snape ... twenty years her senior and a man who had grimly earned every stitch of black that he owned ... was a much better mate for her than Ron could ever have been. Being with him wasn't a constant uphill struggle as her marriage to Ron had been. She felt traitorous for even thinking it. Even worse, the last time she'd indulged in the 'What if Ron Were Still Alive' game, she'd found her heart aching at the thought of not being with Severus. She had immediately distracted herself. But now, standing at the edge of the master bedroom, it all came rushing back.

Having realised that perhaps leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts whilst she stared at her marital bed was not the wisest of ideas, Severus returned and gently ushered Hermione towards the kitchen.

Hermione sank into her chair at the kitchen table. Dammit. Something else that reminded her of him. Stupid flat. She nervously fidgeted with her hands while she watched Severus fiddle with her electric kettle. Oh gods, she was still wearing her wedding ring. She wore it out of habit and had never had reason to stop. Shit. Removing it would invite scrutiny for which she simply wasn't prepared. What on earth would Molly say to her when she noticed? But she certainly couldn't continue to wear it now that she very clearly was no longer Ron's wife. It seemed traitorous to Severus.

Severus wrestled with his temper as he finished preparing their tea. Dammit. He had known she wasn't ready for this, and yet he bloody let her seduce him anyway. He wasn't sure if he was more upset with himself or her. Fuck. They were surely headed towards an extremely uncomfortable discussion. He'd weathered all their previous discussions about ... he cringed ... emotions and feelings over her lost husband, but those discussions hadn't involved his own person. He was free to be detached and objective. But standing here watching her sniffle after he'd JUST had his cock inside her was something entirely different. Buggering hell. He'd suffered through this once before over twenty years ago. He snorted to himself. At least this time, he didn't have to worry about Hermione scurrying away to the arms of her betrothed. Still, just because her husband was dead didn't ease the sting of it. He'd offered up himself, only to have her attention diverted at the sight of a piece of furniture. How typical. Fucking women. No wonder Aberforth cavorted with goats.

The tea had finished steeping, and he supposed he couldn't delay the inevitable any longer. He adjusted his transfigured bathrobe (dammit, his scratchy wool cloak may not have been the best of choices) and carried the tea tray to the table. "Perhaps we rushed into this, Hermione," Severus said as he began pouring her tea.

"No!" Hermione declared vehemently.

Severus set the teapot down with rather more force than was necessary and glared at her with a look she'd not witnessed since she was a sixth year. "Hermione, I will not compete with Ronald Weasley for your affections."

"Severus, you aren't," she began arguing before he interrupted.

"Clearly I am," he replied through gritted teeth. "Otherwise, why the bloody hell would you be so upset?"

Rising from her chair, she struggled not to yell in retort. "Severus, that's exactly the problem! You aren't remotely in the same league as Ron. How could you possibly think you were competing with him?"

"Playing dense does not become you, Hermione. I could see you struggling with it by your bedroom, and I can see it now!"

"Severus, there is no contest, and THAT is the problem."

"What in seven hells do you mean?"

"Yes, I'll admit to having inadvertently compared you to Ron. The problem is that Ron fails against you in nearly every regard. I'm GLAD you're the one here. I'm GLAD that it's not Ron. Do you understand what that means? I'm GLAD he's not here." She was crying earnestly now. "I'm GLAD that he's..."

Somehow, mid-tirade, the light of comprehension finally dawned on Severus Snape. Fucking hell. He'd never been picked over someone else. That it was someone not of corporeal form didn't matter to him in the slightest. He knew full well the significance her husband had had in her life. He crossed the room before she could finish saying something about Weasley's absence that he knew she didn't really mean and wrapped her in his embrace.

"Shhh, love. You prefer me, then. Is that what you're trying to say?"

She nodded against his chest with a muffled sob.

"Crazy witch. You feel miserable and guilty because of it?"

Impossibly, she cried even harder. It would seem he'd managed to hit the nail on the head. Perhaps he wasn't so daft when it came to this relationship business. Now, how to get her to cease her blubbering on his cloak? He cautiously began rubbing his right hand on her back as his left clutched her waist.

"Hermione, why is this bothering you so much? Surely you knew you weren't going to mourn him forever and you'd move on some day."

She sniffled. "Well, yes, but you and I are only together because Ron died." Her sniffles reverted to sobs once more.

"Hermione, I have never known you to be so irrational. You don't know how things might have turned out, even if his accident had never happened. There is nothing wrong with accepting what has happened and being content to move forward." Oh, disgusting. Did she just snort against his robes?

"Yes, I can see historically you've excelled at accepting what happened and moving on."

Severus spluttered.

"But I see what you mean. One can't argue with fate," she said, pulling him closer.

Her sniffling had seemingly subsided, but Severus continued rubbing circles on her back.

"Thank you for making me see reason," she murmured with a heaving sigh.

"I had no choice. You were being horribly unfair to yourself, and you very nearly said things about Weasley that I know you didn't mean."

"And how exactly is it that you had no choice?" she teased, cocking her head up to look at him.

"If I'd let you continue, it might have been years before we shagged again," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Hermione chuckled against his chest. "Eager, are you?" she asked and looked up at him with a grin.

Well, he hadn't been until she looked at him. His cock twitched. He swallowed the now sizable lump in his throat and brushed away the hairs that had adhered to her face. "I am now," he rasped before brushing his lips softly against hers.

He felt her breath catch before she returned his kiss, her tongue slowly sliding against his. There was a tenderness to their kiss that had never been present before. He wondered, briefly, if this was a result of their coupling or their argument. His hands easily separated the sides of her bathrobe, and he clutched her body hungrily.

He took it all back. They hadn't rushed into this. Gods, he wasn't sure how he'd ever be able to keep his hands off her in the future or how he would keep from blurting out things during their coupling that he clearly meant but wasn't prepared to reveal. If only they'd progressed to the point where a gag was a suitable suggestion.

She tugged him into the sitting room. Her jaw dropped as she goggled at the four-poster bed that stood in the middle of the room where her sofa and coffee table once were. The sheets were an entirely different colour and texture than anything originating out of her linen closet. "Is this modelled after your own, or were you inspired to create this out of your imagination?"

"Mmmmm, I suppose that's for me to know and you to find out," Severus replied as he playfully nipped at her neck.

"Gods, how do you manage to do that?" Hermione groaned.

"Hmm?"

"Instinctively find the precise spots that render me senseless."

"Like this?" Severus asked, licking the bit of skin between the middle and ring fingers of her right hand.

"Yesssssss," Hermione hissed.

Severus chuckled. "Magic."

"Oh, good grief," she said, rolling her eyes as she pushed him onto the bed. She honestly wasn't sure where this playful version of Severus Snape had come from, but she wanted more of him, that was certain. Perhaps it would be best to begin rewarding him for good behaviour.

Severus was quickly distracted from further witty comments by the feeling of her mouth trailing kisses across his hipbones and stomach. His startled yelp made Hermione laugh, which sent tantalising puffs of air across his loins. Gods, was she trying to seduce him or give him a heart attack? He groaned as her lips descended upon his cock. He was certain he sounded like a babbling idiot, but Hermione didn't seem to mind. She seemed intent on lavishing attention on him. He indulged in it until he could hardly bear any more, tugging her up so that she straddled him.

With eyes half-mast, he watched her face as she lowered herself onto his cock. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her lower lip retreated into her mouth. Fuck, she was gorgeous. He was mesmerised by watching her: the slick juncture where their bodies met, the captivating expressions that graced her face, her finger circling her clit, and the way she experimented with several hip angles before finding the one that made her moan. The position wasn't particularly mind-blowing for him, but he supposed that was just as well. It wouldn't do to make good on that promise of an abysmal performance.

Her orgasm hit her by surprise, and she tumbled forward against his chest. After several moments, Severus thrust his hips beneath her, and she shuddered in response. Oh, gods. She'd entirely forgotten how sensitive she could be after her first orgasm.

After Severus nudged her in one of the five universal gestures that signalled for a change in positions, she slid off of him with a twinge of regret and rolled onto her back. Oh, but it was lovely to watch him settling in between her thighs. She realised that she'd been so wrapped up in her own pleasure earlier that she'd missed the opportunity to observe Severus with his guard completely down. He slid into her, and she resisted all temptation to close her eyes and relish the sensation. She smiled, wondering if Severus knew that he stuck his tongue out about a half centimetre every time he altered his positioning or that he grunted every time the head of his cock bumped against her cervix. Gods, this was overwhelming. It felt like they were sharing the best sort of secret together.

With the desperation of their first coupling out of the way, Severus took particular care to enjoy their second. This was his opportunity to explore his witch and discover what felt best for both of them. Ever the researcher, he tried a variety of angles, speeds, and positions. He resolved on a sharp snapping motion of his hips followed by a slow withdrawal. Each thrust was punctuated with a moan from Hermione, and it was only after several such thrusts that he realised he'd lucked into finding an angle that pressed hard against her g-spot. Yes, this was definitely a mutually satisfactory position. He carefully noted their positioning, trying to commit all the details to long-term memory before his orgasm came along and Obliviated him. Oh, bloody hell, she was coming, and he swore he'd never felt such pressure on his cock in his entire life.

He looked down, mid-thrust, to see tears glistening in Hermione's eyes, accompanied by a watery smile. He quickly kissed her before his control could slip further and all manner of Hufflepuff-type declarations escaped from his mouth. Instinct suddenly took over, and his hips began moving faster of their own accord. Before long, his orgasm ripped through his body, carrying all conscious thought along with it.

Hermione giggled to herself. It was rather adorable how babies, drunks, and orgasming men all lacked the ability to employ consonants with any degree of precision. She stroked Severus's hair as he panted irregularly against her throat. He leaned up to kiss her again before flopping onto the bed next to her.

She propped herself up on her elbow and continued observing him. He looked like his mind was a bit more occupied than was normal for someone who'd just come. Good grief, he wasn't having second thoughts, was he? After an orgasm like that?

He turned and looked at her quizzically. "Something on your mind, Hermione?"

"I was going to ask you the same. You have that expression you get when you're trying to figure out something."

"Just trying to determine which adjective is the precise opposite of abysmal. I believe stellar will do in this instance," he replied smugly.

"Prat." Leave it to Severus to bring his haughty arrogance into the bed as well. She quickly berated herself when she felt herself clench at the thought.

She yawned before commenting, "We never did have that tea."

"Would you like me to brew some more?"

"Mmmm. That would be nice. A blend with no caffeine, I think," she murmured sleepily.

She was embarrassed to catch herself ogling his arse as walked to the kitchen. Bloody hell, I've had seconds and now I'm looking for thirds?

By the time he returned, tea in hand, she was asleep. Surprisingly, he wasn't tired at the moment. Wandering over to her bookshelf, he picked up An Arithmancer's Guide to Successful Potion Brewing before returning to bed. Sliding under the covers whilst trying not to disturb his slumbering witch, he propped himself against the headboard and lost himself in the text. Though a bit rudimentary, it did give him some insight into concepts he only knew instinctively. Perhaps he would have to borrow it to peruse when he was a bit more alert. He yawned sleepily but continued reading. He drifted off with the book flattened against his chest.

A/N: Thanks so much for your lovely reviews for the last chapter. While Hermione might have had to wait an unbearable couple of months, you didn't!

Be a dear and review? I've made some excellent new friends in the course of writing this, and I'm eager to meet more! Don't be shy!