Chapter Eight: Research

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Chapter Eight: Research

With a flurry of robes, Hermione stepped out of the hearth. Well, this is a surprise. No green. Severus's living quarters were indisputably masculine, but the rich chocolate browns and soft turquoises were unexpected, to say the least. The large, leather sofa begged to be curled up in, and the soft, thick rugs scattered on the stone floor added warmth and a touch of colour. There were books on shelves, the solid oak coffee table, and even a stack on the floor beside the sofa. Hermione's inner bibliophile thought she had died and gone to heaven. Meanwhile, her inner frustrated virgin was wondering where the hell her wizard was hiding and thinking he had better show up soon or she would be hunting him down. Her desire for the final consummation of their relationship was only surpassed by her need for the physical and psychological barrier of her virginity to become past history. Severus was likely to be anxious about any inequality in their relationship, and evidence of nerves on her part might scare him off. There was no way she was letting him back out now. She had not spent years fighting a crazed tyrant to succumb to a case of maidenly vapours at the thought of sex.

"Well, do my interior decoration skills pass muster?" The wizard in question suddenly appeared through a doorway, which looked promisingly like it led to a bedroom.

"It's beautiful. Surprising. I still can't believe I am here," she replied.

"Surprising? You no doubt expected all green and silver with snakes decorating every surface." He smirked at her offended glare.

"Don't be silly. That is only what most students would expect. I am not most students," she retorted.

"I should hope not, given that I am planning on spending some time showing you the bedroom. And the bathroom. And the..."

She giggled, all nervousness dissipating as his dry humour reminded her this was Severus, not Professor Snape.

"Would you like some tea?" he offered, reaching for the tray he had prepared earlier.

"Tea? I think the occasion of my deflowering calls for something a little more celebratory... and relaxing," she suggested wryly.

"Ouch. Did you have to remind me that you are still an innocent? At least you have spared me the thought of seducing you in your school uniform." He poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Hermione.

"Hardly that innocent after what we did on the Quidditch pitch, Severus. Besides, I was planning on seducing you, not the other way around." She grinned as she sipped her wine. She had already decided she was well past playing coy.

"Well, my dear. I am all yours. Take me... but be gentle!" he teased.

"I intend to take you in all sorts of ways," she purred, slowly licking the last drop of wine off her lower lip.

Glass unsteady in his hand, he groaned. "Good grief, woman. Do you not know what that does to me?"

"Oh, I think I have a fair idea." The heady feeling of absolute power over the usually self-controlled man before her gave her the confidence to reach for his glass and put it aside. "I think we have had enough fortification. There are sweeter things I would rather taste." Matching her actions to her words, she drew his head to hers and delicately licked his wine-moist lips.

"Mmm. Tasty. Now, what about here?" She sampled his earlobe with her tongue.

"And here." The hollow under his jaw.

"Here." His extraordinary nose.

"Delicious, but I have a complaint." She pouted.

Bemused, Severus frowned and found his voice. "What is it?"

"You, my dear professor, are decidedly overdressed. How can I continue my research with all those clothes in the way?"

He glanced down at his simple, white shirt and black pants. "And here was I feeling half dressed without my layers." Eyes closing as gentle fingers made short work of his buttons, he leaned back and sighed. "If I had known weeks ago you could do such a good job of undressing me..."

"Off!" she demanded, tugging the shirttails from his waistband.

"Impatient little thing, aren't you?" However, he complied with alacrity. Severus was nothing if not obedient in the face of this witch's determination to have him at her mercy.

"Hmm, where was I?" she asked as she placed her lips on the skin of his chest. Her tongue grazed his nipple, sending a clear message directly to his groin which responded emphatically. "Like that, do you?"

"Mmm." His power of speech was temporarily disabled, all thought abandoned as she licked and suckled further down his chest with fingertips tangling in the trail of hair leading down from his navel. A wet tongue in that depression, followed by a cool huff of air and a soft giggle, had him gasping.

"I think that's enough tasting now, my love. You wouldn't want the game to be over before the Snitch is released."

A swat on the arm was followed by a nip to his sensitised skin. "No. Quidditch. Talk," she ordered. "Now, where is that bedroom you promised earlier?"

"Shouldn't you take off your robes and make yourself comfortable?" he suggested, all too aware that she was fully dressed while he was shirtless with straining pants.

"All in good time. Through here?" She opened the door he had appeared from earlier to find a bedroom in much the same style as the living area. A huge, oak, four-poster bed with luxurious drapes and a quilt of turquoise silk took pride of place. She ran her hand over the exquisite fabric, delighting in the sensual feel under her skin. "Not a lot of Spartan philosophy went into the decorating of this room, I see."

"A man has to have some balance in his life, after all."

"Indeed." Now was the time. Her wizard was flushed and obviously aroused. Taking a deep breath, she slowly unclasped her robes, shrugging them off her shoulders to slide unheeded to the floor. Any shyness remaining vanished as she took in the sight of her soon-to-be lover's expression and the undeniable evidence of his desire.

"Uh... uhh." Eyes glued to her suddenly naked body, hands fisted at his sides, Severus Snape had been once again rendered speechless.

"It appears that you remain overdressed." He stilled her fingers as she reached for his fly.

"I think I should do this." But nerve-endings sensitised by need left his fingers trembling, unable to manage a few, simple buttons.

"Hmm. You are far too slow." Brushing his betraying hands away, she swiftly completed the task and pushed down his pants and boxers. Greedily eyeing the evidence of his desire, she licked her lips once more. "Oh, yes. I think a little more research is in order."

"Oh, no you don't, miss. It's my turn. I want to look." Dark eyes caressed smooth, delicate skin, the heat of his gaze almost palpable.

"Look then." She stood and turned slowly, revealing herself completely to him.

"I want to touch." Skilful fingers mapped curves and hollows, exploring previously untouched territory.

"Yes." Soft moans and erratic breathing punctuated the silence.

"I want to taste." A rough tongue sampled willing lips, brushed over pert nipples and trailed down, down, down...

"Oh... yes!"

The knock on the outer door startled them both.

"What the...?" Severus grabbed his shirt and pants, hastily donning them as he closed the bedroom door and removed the damning evidence of the second wine glass. Satisfied his quarters were clear of any sign of a guest, he opened the door a crack. "Miss Parkinson. What problem is it that cannot wait until morning? Has your father not owled you your spending money this week?" he snarled. The young woman stepped back a little, realising her Head of House was not in a particularly sympathetic frame of mind.

"It's Sylvie Zabini, sir. She's sick. A fever, and she is talking nonsense. I have called Madam Pomfrey, but I think you should come and check her out as well."

"Fuck!"

Severus suddenly realised his student was staring at him in shock. "I apologise, Miss Parkinson. That was uncalled for. Please return to your dormitory; I will join you in a moment or two." After the door had closed, he rested his head briefly against the cool wood. Swearing in front of a student was not the best way to avoid attention.

"What is it, Severus?" called Hermione softly from the bedroom.

"I have to leave. One of my Slytherins has become unwell. It sounds suspiciously like Wizarding Fever." He glanced at the naked witch apologetically as he found his shoes and robes.

"Oh. Of course. The poor thing must be miserable. I'll just get dressed and return to my room." She picked up her discarded robes and drew them over her shoulders.

"No." He took her into his embrace and held her tightly. Kissing the top of her head, he murmured, "Stay... please?"

His eyes held all the encouragement she needed. Squeezing his shoulders, she nodded and returned to his bed. "I'll be here when you return. Take all the time you need."

Whisking out of the room in a whirl of robes, he left to calm down his charges. He didn't hear the soft murmur that followed him from the room.

"Drama queen."

***

Three hours later, Sylvie safely ensconced in bed in the hospital wing, Poppy supplied with appropriate potions, and his Slytherins reassured and sent back to bed, Severus wearily crept back into his bedroom. His fatigue evaporated at the sight that met his eyes. One beautiful, young witch, fast asleep in his bed, glorious hair fanned out on his pillow, a perfect breast revealed by the drape of his sheets. Trying to ignore his body's response to the vision, he swiftly undressed and slid in beside her. Sleep. It would come... eventually.

"Mmm... Severus." A soft murmur roused him from a fantastical dream in which he and Hermione were tumbling naked on a soft, warm cloud. A hand snaking between them, reaching down to caress and squeeze, brought him back to delicious reality. He opened his eyes to find a wide-awake and playfully grinning witch.

"You didn't think you could get away with snoring, did you?" she asked with a smirk.

"Me? I never snore... Ahhh." Denials faded with the exquisite sensations wrought by her touch.

"Oh, yes you do. Just enough to wake me. You deserve... punishment," she whispered into his ear, her breath searing his nerve-endings.

"Punishment?"

"Yes. A few strokes, I think. Like this..."

"Ahhh."

"And this..."

"Mmm."

"And perhaps this..."

"Oh, yes. Yes. YES!"

Satisfied, Hermione cast a quick cleansing spell and watched her wizard recover his senses. His lazy, sated smile and hooded gaze lit her from within as he drew her closer for a long, sensual kiss.

"Thank you. I needed that."

"I enjoyed it. I love watching you lose control. The scary Potions professor reduced to a puddle of lust just because I have his cock in my hand. Merlin, it's so... hot!"

"Turns you on, does it?" Said scary Potions professor took his investigations further, running a finger over her moistened lips, pebbled nipples, and slowly, teasingly, down her stomach to explore her deepest secrets. "Oh, definitely turned on," he declared as he slid his fingers in and out, around and around, rubbing the one spot her entire being was focussed upon. He claimed her mouth again with his as he increased the tempo of his movement, her building arousal renewing his own.

"Please... Severus... if you don't shag me right now, so help me, I will hex your impressive appendage and yourself into next week," she panted.

"Impressive, huh?" He carefully positioned himself between her legs, feeling her slick, silken heat so temptingly close. Her hips lifted to meet him, impatient for their final union. Looking into her eyes for affirmation, the last protective layer around his heart shattered as she offered herself to him.

"Now?"

"Gods, yes."

"SNAPE, YOU BASTARD! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HER? HERMIONE! HERMIONE! ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?"

***

A/N: This story is dedicated to the esteemed leader of F.A.R.T, Robbi, whose encouragement, nay, nagging, turned this story from a vague idea to an actuality. However, any expressions of emotion emanating from Severus Snape are entirely my idea. She made me clarify that. Of course, my dear friend, ladyinthecloak, bossed the commas into submission and tidied up any mistakes. Thanks, girls!