Private Proper-ty

'Severus?'

'Why, Miss Granger. I hardly think that accompanying a professor to his quarters is proper, do you?'

~*~

Hermione and Severus' hidden relationship continued to progress as the time wound down to graduation. Although it was difficult for them to maintain their composure when in close proximity to one another, they both found the strength to act just as they had before. If any of Hermione's friends noticed anything off about her, they never mentioned it. And Snape... well, anyone whom he considered a 'friend' knew that questioning the reclusive man about his emotions or moods garnered nothing pleasant in return.

An interesting development occurred after the night that he admitted to her that he could not stay away from her. The first time it happened, Hermione was rushing back to her room after a late night House meeting. Staring down at her Arithmancy notes as she walked, she never noticed Peeves lurking ahead in a doorway, and she never saw the sheet of ice that he had formed on the floor.

Thinking back, she realized that she must have looked like a character from a Muggle cartoon. Her right heel slipped from under her, her legs flew skyward, her books and papers careened away from her in graceful arcs. Hermione's descent to the floor was anything but graceful; she landed hard on her back and her arm. A muffled, "crack!" caused her to cry out in pain.

Madam Pomfrey assured her that the broken elbow would heal completely, but she would need to spend the night in the hospital wing. Hermione settled herself back into the bed as the mediwitch went to retrieve a painkilling potion.

'Hermione?'

Her eyes snapped open, and she looked around, expecting Severus to appear from behind the bed curtains. It took a moment for her to realize that he was calling to her mind.

'Hello, Severus.'

'Hermione, is everything all right?'

The question caught her off guard. She had expected him to come to her for another rendezvous, not out of concern. Severus' indifference toward others was legendary, and Hermione hadn't tried to fool herself into thinking that she would be any different. Yet, here he was... clearly worried enough to call to her even though he knew people would be around.

Wait a minute... How DID he know?

Hermione had managed to levitate her books and papers back to her room after her fall, then had gone straight to see Madam Pomfrey, cradling her injured arm against her body. She hadn't passed anyone in the hallways, nor had there been any other students in the hospital wing when she arrived.

So how had he known?

'Hermione?' His voice broke through her thoughts, and she realized she'd not answered him.

'I'm okay, Severus. I fell in the hallway and fractured my elbow. Madam Pomfrey has already given me a bone-binding potion and says I'll be fine in a day or two.'

She thought she heard a sigh of relief, but was convinced she was mistaken when his voice returned, snappish and professor-y.

'She should administer a painkilling potion as well. You will have difficulty sleeping without one.'

'She's just gone to get one. In fact, she's returning now. Wait a moment.'

As Madam Pomfrey helped her back into a sitting position on the bed, Severus continued to talk.

'Ah, Poppy. Stubborn old bat.' Hermione tried not to smile as the nurse lifted the vial of smooth golden liquid to her lips. 'Would you believe that Flitwick finds her attractive? Told me once that he had a particular fantasy about her wearing her mediwitch hat, Muggle cowboy boots and a holster.'

With a loud snort, Hermione began coughing. The rush of potion up her nose brought tears to her eyes, and she felt as though her face was on fire. "Miss Granger!" Madam Pomfrey snapped. "Oh, dear. There, there. It's all right, child. I can get you another dose. Are you all right?" Still coughing, Hermione managed to nod her head and wipe the tears from her cheeks. The nurse hurried off to the storeroom again, making soft clucking noises under her breath.

'You unbelievable prat!'

'I'm sorry. Perhaps that wasn't the most opportune time to recount that story.'

With a start, she realized that he was teasing her. Even more fascinating was that she found this even more exhilarating – and unsettling – than their normal encounters.

'Severus, how did you know that something was wrong?'

After a momentary pause, he answered. 'Apparently the Somnium Redimio spell has some residual effects on the individuals. It would appear that when you were in pain I could... feel it.'

'Not the physical pain, no. But I could sense that you were not well.'

Though she was alone, she felt her face flush. Despite the months of unabashed lust that they had shared, this new aspect of their bond seemed even more intimate. She had never shared a connection that deep with anyone, and she found herself unsure of how to react.

'Will you be returning to your chambers?' Severus continued quietly.

'No, Madam Pomfrey wants me to stay here tonight.'

'Okay. Goodnight, Severus... and thank you for worrying about me.'

There was a pause, and then a soft reply. 'I am glad that you are all right. Goodnight, Hermione.'

She slept well that night. She slept very well, indeed.

~*~

Hermione was woken early the next morning by the sound of clinking bottles and someone grumbling under their breath. Rubbing a hand over her face, she sat up and saw that the door of Madam Pomfrey's storeroom was open. She tested her arm gingerly; still a slight bit sore, but definitely better. As she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, Madam Pomfrey walked out with an armful of vials.

"Oh, Miss Granger! I hope I didn't wake you!"

"No, not at all," Hermione lied smoothly. "I tend to be an early riser."

"How are you feeling, dear?"

"Much better, thank you. Is it all right for me to go back to my room now?"

"Let me just run some quick checks on you," the mediwitch replied, placing the vials on a table and withdrawing her wand. She ran it over Hermione's arm several times, then over her entire body once.

"You're in fine shape, Miss Granger. Oh, to be young and have that kind of resiliency!" She smiled warmly as Hermione pulled her robe back around herself.

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey. I hate to just run out, but I have a lot to do today."

"I do too. Unfortunately, Professor Snape has pretty much seen to it that I will get none of my own work done today!"

At the mention of his name, Hermione froze. "Professor Snape?" she asked cautiously.

"Yes," huffed Madam Pomfrey, fussing with the vials on the table. "He comes storming in here last night, shortly after you fell asleep. I'm surprised he didn't wake you... I tried to usher him into my office, but he seemed intent on discussing matters out here. Just between us, I was a little afraid that he was going to start poking his nose in where it didn't belong; kept looking over toward you, probably wondering what was going on. It took me forever to get him out of here!"

Hermione looked down, concentrating on the clasp on her robes; if it helped to hide her bemused smile, all the better. He had come here to see her last night! The affectionate overtone of the act was not lost on her, and she found herself suppressing giggles. She tried to force a serious expression back on her face as a squadron of Muggle cheerleaders thundered repeatedly in her head, "He likes me! He likes me! He likes me!"

"And now," the mediwitch continued, paying no attention whatsoever to Hermione, "I have to spend the better part of my morning testing these potions because the flakes of bloodstone he used in them MAY have been tainted. Honestly!"

She wanted to feel badly for her, but it's hard to commiserate from cloud nine.

~*~

They didn't speak of this newfound aspect to their relationship – there was no need. With decreasing delicacy they learned their way around each other's emotions and moods, building an ever-tightening wall around themselves that others could not penetrate. Hermione learned that when Severus had had an exceptionally frustrating day with his students, he tended toward fantasies of rough, animalistic coupling. Conversely, when his day had gone well, he would paint her pictures of passionate, tender lovemaking.

She would have been hard-pressed to tell you which she enjoyed more.

Sitting in Professor Binns' History of Magic class one afternoon, Hermione found herself struggling to stay awake. As a seventh year student, she needn't have taken the class, but she had challenged herself to get through it for just one more year. It was days like this one, though, that made her regret that decision. Blue skies, white clouds... it was a textbook summer day, and for one of the first times in her life, Hermione didn't want to learn. She wanted to be outside, lounging on the grass with her friends, soaking in the warmth of the sun and forgetting all those responsibilities that usually took first priority.

His voice was so quiet that at first she thought she must have fallen asleep momentarily.

'Hermione.'

She snapped upward in her seat, looking around her to see if anyone had caught her napping. Thankfully, the rest of her classmates were either staring absently around the room or dozing in their seats. The ghost at the front of the room remained oblivious to the lack of hold he had on his class and continued to drone on in his customary monotone.

'Severus?'

'Mmmm. Lovely little girl,' he murmured. 'So soft, so beautiful. I want you, Hermione.'

'Mmm, I know,' he purred. 'History of Magic, I believe?'

'What are you doing, Severus?' Although she knew no one could hear their thoughts, she shot nervous glances around the room.

'Thinking of you.' His voice was innocence personified, wickedly imbalanced by the waves of lust she felt coursing through her body.

'I can't do this,' she insisted. 'Not here. Not now.'

'I understand,' Severus said smoothly. 'So I shouldn't do this?'

Instantly her mind filled with the vision of herself tied face-down and spread-eagle on his bed, the only light in the room from a lone candle sconce above the headboard. Severus held himself above her, his tongue trailing a long, slow path between her shoulder blades to the nape of her neck. As he opened his mouth to suck the soft skin there, she watched him gently flex his hips forward, the head of his hardened penis disappearing between her plump and glistening labia.

Her loud gasp caused Professor Binns and several of her classmates to turn toward her. She quickly feigned a coughing fit, allowing her not only an explanation for the disruption but also a chance to cover her flushed face with her hands.

'Severus, stop it!'

Another image, this one of her straddling him in a chair. Her back was to him, her legs tucked under her next to his on the seat. She was leaning backward toward him, causing her breasts to just forward. One was covered by Snape's hand, his fingers squeezing and rubbing her stiffened nipple as his tongue ravaged her ear. His breath was harsh, ragged panting. Allowing her eyes to travel down his other arm, she swallowed a guttural moan. The wide stance of her legs and the tilt of her hips permitted a clear view of his thick cock ramming into her cunt. His ass rose off the chair with each violent thrust, and Hermione was mesmerized by the wetness glistening on his veined shaft. "My wetness," she realized and felt a surge of moisture between her legs. The three middle fingers of his left hand were pressed to her clit, rubbing in vicious circles.

As she watched herself bouncing up and down on her Potion master's swollen prick, she pressed her thighs together tightly under her desk. Her hand twitched involuntarily, itching to reach down to soothe the pulsating ache at her core.

She could hear her own voice crying out each time his cock plunged upward into her.

'Severus,' she begged in her mind, 'please, don't do this.'

'Oh, but I do want to do this to you, Hermione! I want to bury myself in you over and over again.' Spurred on by her anxious whimper, he growled, 'Touch yourself.'

'It's... it's just not proper.'

His snort was derisive, even in her head. 'Proper? I hardly think that now is the time to be concerned about being proper, dear. Nothing we've done up to this point has even been close to proper.'

'So?' he drawled lazily. 'You're not paying attention, anyway. Touch yourself for me.'

Knowing that she would do as he asked, she couldn't help saying, 'And what would you do if you caught someone doing that in your class, Professor?'

'One hundred points from their House and two weeks of detention,' he responded, sounding utterly bored. 'But that's not the situation. I want you to touch yourself. I want you to run your fingers over those wet lips of yours and pretend that they're mine, that I'm inside of you, that I'm touching you everywhere and making you come.'

Hardly aware of what she was doing, Hermione's hand had slipped inside of her robes and gathered her skirt up between her legs. As she concentrated on the image in her mind – where her alter ego was obviously edging closer to orgasm as Snape's middle finger was thrumming over her clit as though satisfying a particularly nasty itch – she slid further down in her seat and slid her fingertips under the edge of her knickers. Sparing a quick glance around at her classmates, all of whom had once again drifted off into oblivion, she ran one finger up from her opening to her clit.

A quick intake of breath through her nose let him know that she was doing what he had asked.

In their fantasy, he snarled loudly and began thrusting into her even harder, a harsh grunt accompanying each movement.

Hermione marveled at her own wetness as she slipped one finger inside herself, grinding down slightly into her chair to rub her heated nub against her palm. As she watched the couple in her mind, she clenched her thighs together tightly and began to feel dizzy.

'That's it, Hermione. Gods, you're amazing!'

'Severus,' she panted. 'I have to stop! I can't finish this here; there's no way!'

'Leave the room. Tell Binns you don't feel well. That you need to use the bathroom. Not really a lie, is it, Miss Granger?' His dark chuckle shot through her, and her hips jerked involuntarily.

Cautiously fixing her clothing, she raised her hand – still damp with her own juices – and asked permission to go to the lavatory.

She walked down the hall, not even remotely aware of where she was going. A corridor opened to her left, but she moved toward it blindly. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, but behind them ran rampant visions of Snape's lips, tongue and fingers on her skin. Each step she took caused the ache between her thighs to deepen, and the minimal brush of her blouse against her nipples was nearly painful.

As she drew even with the intersecting hall, she was caught in a sudden whirl of black, and thrust backward into a narrow, hidden alcove at the end of the passageway.

Severus.

Shoving her against the wall, he pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, "Finish it, Hermione."

"I can't!" She gasped. As she suddenly became aware of his closeness, she lurched forward, trying to kiss him, but he grasped her shoulders and pushed her gently back against the wall.

"Do it! Finish it for me, now. Here. I want to see you."

Dizzy with lust, she hurriedly unfastened her school robes and let them fall open. Yanking her skirt up around her waist with her left hand, she sank her right into her knickers and began rubbing wantonly.

"Oh, gods!" moaned Severus, his forehead slick against hers, his hair swaying slightly against her face in time with her motions. His voice caused her to widen her stance, allowing her to once again slide her fingers into her wet hole. The alcove was filled with the sounds of their ragged breathing and the wet, smacking sounds of her masturbation.

"Severus, please, touch me!" she groaned, leaning toward him with her body.

"No!" he answered, passion strangling his words. She felt his hands, strong on her shoulders. His lips were mere inches from hers, and she snaked out her tongue, trying to touch him. He pulled back, his eyes screwed shut in an expression that bordered on pain. The heat from his body flooded her as she began stroking her clit at lightning speed.

"Gods, oh, gods!" The burning feeling centered in her vagina began to spread to her legs and belly, heralding her impending climax. Tilting her head back, she arched her back toward Snape, trembling as she tried to keep her knees from buckling beneath her.

"Dear Lord, Hermione, come for me. Come for me! Come for me!" His breath was warm on her face, and she felt her muscles begin to tighten.

"Please!" She gasped. "Please, please please, oh, now, Severus, please!"

As he felt her orgasm begin to rip through her, Severus latched his mouth onto the skin where her shoulder met her neck and sucked hard, muting the roar that escaped from his throat.

And then, as the lust-induced fog around her began to lift and she raised her head to look at him, there was another swirl of black.

And he was gone.

It was three weeks until Graduation.

~*~

Disclaimer: All JKR's characters, all my sick little puppetry.

Author's Note: Again, multiple apologies for the long wait. I originally planned this chapter to be longer, but I thought that ending it here worked out nicely. I might do one more chapter before Graduation...not sure yet.

Thanks, as always, to my hubby. Love your body, Larry.