Becoming

Disclaimer: Some things I do for money; this fic is not one of them.

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Hermione glanced at the bathroom door as they passed it. There's the bathroom.

She remembered vividly the first time she'd used his bathroom. How terrifyingly intimate that had felt. How she'd averted her eyes, trying not to take too much in, wanting to get her business done with her composure intact. Because she still had to go back out to his sitting room and pretend she wasn't even a little bit desperately in love with him.

The pretending was over now. They were standing in his bedroom, side by side. Her mind was sliding all over the place, unable to find a purchase. Everything that had been, wasn't, and could no longer guide her. Everything that was going to be, wasn't yet, and she couldn't conjure what it would feel like, what she would feel like.

Can't I just turn my brain off? Just turn it off? Please?

Severus stood a foot or two away from her, their joined hands forming a bridge between them. She understood he was letting her look at the room, letting her take time. She felt a rush of relief and gratitude, and just a glimmer of calm.

He would be her link between before and after. He had a plan. He'd help carry her through.

Joy fizzed through her and suddenly she wasn't afraid...and not because she was feeling brave: in this moment, she just wasn't afraid at all.

She turned to him...could he feel the glow coming off of her?...and said, 'Start doing, please.'

He raised her knuckles to his lips, then released her hand and pulled off his frock coat, sleeve by sleeve, and dropped it on a chair before applying himself to his waistcoat.

I will not fidget, she thought, and darted a glance at the bed...wide, high, and uncanopied. The bedclothes were turned back, and her heart lurched.

The waistcoat slithered down from the chair to the floor; he loosened his shirt at collar and cuffs.

'Pirate,' she said, smiling shyly.

'Not a pirate,' he said, taking off one boot, then the other.

She took in his white shirt and black trousers. 'Poet, then.'

'Not a poet, either,' he said, arms held still at his sides, fingers twitching slightly.

'And me?' she murmured.

He closed the space between them and wrapped a hand around the side of her neck. 'Not a wench, surely.' He kissed the corner of her mouth. 'Muse?'

'No, I meant my clothes. You said...'

But his mouth was on hers and a quick pull had her shirt out of her waistband, his hand snaking inside to grip her bare waist, cool on her warm skin.

Kissing him, kissing him... slow, shallow, rhythmic kisses, marking time while his other hand found her tie, got it off, and flicked open the top few buttons of her shirt. His hand moved down from her neck to spread along her shoulder underneath her shirt and it was utterly thrilling to feel that hand resting lightly against her collarbone while he kissed, kissed, kissed her... then drifting down her breastbone to ease the last three buttons from their holes. Now both hands moved together to push shirt and cardigan off her shoulders and arms and down with a soft whoosh to the floor.

He stepped back and wordlessly pulled his shirt up and over his head, then tossed it over to the chair. There it was, on his left arm...the great big ugly Dark Mark. She averted her gaze don't think about that now. He made quick work of his belt, whipping it out of the loops. His trousers rode low on his hips, sharply tented in front.

'I remember,' he said, moving around so that he was standing behind her, 'Sunday morning.' He pulled her back against his body, one arm wrapped around her waist, and moved her hair away from her ear. 'I held you like this.' He kissed her ear and, delicately, her neck. 'I felt half-mad.'

His cock was pushing into the small of her back and she wondered, would it be a good thing if she pushed back and swivelled her hips like this? His breath caught and he bit her neck with a little growl, then started kissing it much more forcefully. Ohgodyes a good thing...

'I, um, me too,' she said, trying to hold up her end of the conversation. 'When I f-felt that you wanted me, it made me lose, uhn... ohhh, lose m-my mind a little.'

His hands were trailing shivery electricity across her skin, very lightly stroking her bare breasts (where did my bra go?), circling around and brushing past her nipples. Too lightly. She put her hands over his, showing him the rough touches that sent shockwaves through her.

She was now positively rubbing her arse against him. This was apparently no longer a good thing, as he grunted and stilled her hips with his hands. 'I'll need that later,' he gasped.

It took her a second to realise what he meant: she'd been close to bringing him off in his trousers. The thought simultaneously embarrassed her and made her want to tackle him to the bed and tear his trousers off and free his poor imprisoned cock.

But she knew, from a time or two alone with Viktor, how these things went. Okay. He needs maybe a tiny break to, um, do some Arithmancy problems in his head.

She looked down. She was still wearing her shoes! What a good time to take them off! And the socks. Surely she should take the opportunity to get rid of her skirt too. She'd had, she decided, stamping the skirt down off her ankles, enough of the slow unwrapping, and felt the looking and touching should proceed, simultaneously and speedily.

He seemed to have decided the same thing, judging from the fact that he stepped forward, picked her up, and nearly threw her on the bed.

She squeaked and blinked up at him as he stood over her, devouring her with his eyes.

Oh yum, the sheets were soft. She wriggled her shoulders into them. Severus kept standing there, looking down at her, the angle of his trousers as acute as before. Or is it obtuse? She stifled a giggle, but knew the smile was all over her face. She felt giddy and lightheaded.

This must be the part where he looks at me.

She wriggled again, more deliberately this time, and stared right into his face. His eyes, shadowed by his hair, were unreadable, but she could see that his lips were wet and open just a little.

Well, someone needs to do something, she couldn't quite say.

Her hair was not yet spread over his pillow...which had seemed like a very sexy part of the plan as originally outlined. So she scooted up towards the head of the bed, and, lifting her hair in handfuls, she laid it out all around her head like a great halo.

Her right hand snagged in the spray of verbena blooms he'd left in her hair, and, inspired, she placed it on her belly right between her navel and the top of her knickers. Now she did giggle...whether at her own daring or at her joke, she wasn't sure. Nervous giggle, either way.

Quicker than thought, Severus undid his trousers and let them fall. No underpants, was her first shocked thought, then, there he is. There were the two sharp little knobs on his collar bones; the scars on his white, white skin; his narrow waist and hips with their trail of black hair; and his dusky cock.

One minute ago, she was feeling rather bold. Now she felt a little scared, and she shivered. Oh, god, we're actually doing this.

Graceful as a cat, he folded himself into the bed beside her and twitched sheet and duvet up over both of them. And he was kissing her again, one hand cupping her cheek. Gratefully, she flung her arms around him and kissed him back with her eyes closed, trying to find that place where nothing existed for her but his mouth on hers.

Warmed by the bedclothes and the deep hot kissing, Hermione began to be aware that the rest of her body wanted some attention. More... She gave a hopeful little squirm and was rewarded with his hand on her hip, thumb stroking the skin of her belly. She wriggled again, chafing her nipples against the hair of his chest.

He raised himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. 'Beautiful girl,' he said, thrillingly. She felt beautiful.

'Beautiful man,' she returned, blushing but holding his gaze. 'Kiss me again.'

And he did. Her ears, throat, shoulders. Her breasts, endlessly, with lips, tongue, and teeth, his hands pinning her wrists to the bed, until she writhed and moaned, clutching helplessly at the air.

He released her hands and she brought them down to his head, riding it lightly as his mouth moved down her belly, his hair brushing her skin. Oh yes, yes, yes, go down there, I want you there, and she arched her hips up in anticipation.

He kissed her twice through her knickers then looked up at her from between her legs, one eyebrow raised, and kept moving down, the horrible man, kissing the insides of her thighs and then down one leg, leisurely, lifting it up until he was licking the soft skin behind her knee. Now that's good. She must have made some sound of approval; she could feel his mouth curve into a smile as he kept going down, down, until he was cradling her foot and his tongue was oh!

Her hands drifted around her belly and breasts and she closed her eyes, relishing the dirty, lovely feeling of her toes in his mouth.

Then his mouth was back on her knickers, his tongue pressing and teeth scraping against the cotton. Her eyes flew open. And damn him! he began to kiss his way down her other leg but ahhhh! now his hands had hooked around her knickers and he was dragging them down her legs in the wake of his mouth. So when he'd finished doing that delicious swirling, sucking thing on her other foot, she was as naked as he was. Finally.

He heaved up so that he was stretched over her, propped on his elbows, his face inches from hers, his erection hard on her thigh.

'And now?' he asked, smirking. Actually smirking, god! He must know what I want.

'Kiss me,' she said, undulating her hips a little, hoping he'd take the hint.

He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her lightly. 'Like that?' Then deeper. 'Or that?' smiling against her lips.

'No-o-o-o,' she groaned, her face positively on fire. 'Kiss me there.' She couldn't say the word, so she grabbed one of his hands and pulled it down between her legs. 'Here.'

'Ah,' he replied with an air of faint surprise. 'Yes. You do like that, I recall.'

Bad man, joking when I need...OHGOD that! 'Aaaagghhh,' she wailed...he'd gone right to her most sensitive part and it was an instant of almost unbearable pleasure. He dragged his tongue down to the centre of her. 'Ohhhaaahmmmmm.' Voluptuous, yes, silky, hot, and wet. She was split open with ripeness and he was eating her whole; she wanted to be completely in his mouth so she pushed forward into his face. He growled. He swirled and sucked in rhythm with her rocking and THEN one long finger slid in and she had that greedy feeling again...that the more she got the more she wanted...and WHAT was he doing with that finger inside her MORE PLEASE oh GOD there it is again and another one spread me wide fill me up I AM YOUR QUEEN and MOVE your tongue up there OH...JESUS...YES...RIGHT THERE.

His fingers felt so good and so right and not enough but the bones of her pelvis were melting together and her heart was going to burst and the dark tidal wave was building in her belly and suddenly NO! his mouth and hand were gone and she opened her eyes to see him rearing above her and there was the feeling of his cock at the entrance and with a great push he was inside her.

'Ohhh,' she whimpered. It was so much. There'd been a fleeting sharp pain, then this stretched, almost too much, really very uncomfortable feeling of being filled up.

Severus loomed above her, his face flushed. He leaned down and kissed her. 'All right?' he gasped, his eyes burning into hers from inches away. 'Just... relax. Breathe.' He kissed her again, gently, though she could feel that his body was tight and quivering.

So she tried, and in a little while the fullness became its own kind of pleasure, and she felt the ache kindling again. 'Severus,' she said, in wonder and need, staring up into his face. 'Severus. I... ' love you. She stroked her hands down his back to his arse, and filled her hands with it. 'I want you. Please.'

And he moved, slowly withdrawing his cock and then ohhh my, oh YES, filling her up and seeming to strike into the very centre of her, a delicious shivery stroke of almost pain but actually really almost-enough pleasure. He moved in her, out... and in... and he is inside me and oh GOD... Her hands gripped him, her legs wrapped around him and she thrust her hips up to meet him as he filled her; if she could just be touching more of him now please she could have what she needed. NEED IT.

'Please, please, please,' she chanted, hardly aware of what she said. 'Please!' The pressure building up, her pulse thundering between her legs when he reached down his hand and began flicking and touching her there and she shouted something as the great obliterating wave finally crashed over her, pounding through her and finally washing her, boneless, out to sea. As if from a distance, she felt him still working in her for another stroke or two and then he stiffened, shuddered, yelled 'Fuck!' and collapsed onto her.

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They lay side by side and face to face, arms wrapped around each other, his left leg layered between hers. He wondered idly how long he'd be able to stay like this without needing to have another go at her.

It had been a supreme, prolonged effort to last as long as he had...all the way through to her climax. For the moment he was content with that, and with the feeling of her lying in his arms. More than content.

They were staring at each other across six inches of pillow. Hermione's face was flushed, her eyes shining. Severus could feel a sentimental declaration gathering in the air between them, so he narrowed his eyes and twisted his mouth into a half smile.

'So. You are my queen?'

Her eyes flew open wide and she squeaked, 'What? Oh god, did I actually say that out loud?'

'You did. You said quite a few things. Some things about spreading and melting, but mostly questions about what I was doing and then commands. Then something that sounded remarkably like begging.'

Hermione rolled out of his arms, grabbed a pillow, and put it over her face, moaning something he couldn't understand. She lowered the pillow so that she was clutching it to her chest, and glared at him.

'That expression on your face is what is termed a smirk. It's smug, supercilious, and antisocial and, and horrible. You are wrong to use it on me, and I just have to say that one day you will beg me for something, and then you'll see how it feels to be smirked at.'

Oh, how he enjoyed rousing her fighting spirit.

He deepened and refined the smirk. 'You may try all you wish to make me beg, but you never will. I am far too supercilious and antisocial. And horrible.'

'Well, that's a challenge, then,' she said primly, pulling the sheet up around her waist and giving her pillow a squeeze.

'I also suspect I would find your smirk adorable, as I do everything else about you.' Well, bugger it. The sentimental declaration had erupted after all.

The melting expression returned to her eyes. 'Oh.' She rolled back to him, smiling, and laced her fingers in his, pulling his hand up to her mouth to kiss. It was his left hand, and he could feel the shock go through her as she saw the Mark.

He tensed, too, and withdrew his hand from hers. That's right, little girl, it's real. I'm a real Death Eater with a truly evil past.

The wrongness of her being here with him stirred in his belly and a chill began to creep over him.

But she grasped his hand again and kissed it repeatedly, then ducked her head forward to shower his face and mouth with kisses. 'Forgive me for reacting like that,' she murmured at last into his throat. 'I knew that was there, and it doesn't and hasn't and never could make any difference to me. It's not who you are.'

You know so very little about me, he thought as she covered his mouth with hers and kissed him passionately. Then, with the skill born of much practice, he exiled that thought to another time.

Severus wrapped his arms around his girl and resolved to hear her begging once more before he let her go for the night.

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A/N: *draws curtain over lovers*

*tiptoes away*

*whispers:* Well, that seemed to go pretty well.

*glomps betas*

*smiles at readers:* Thanks for your patience.