Chapter Nine: Nearly There

Chapter Nine: Nearly There

Shortly before she was due to leave for the dungeons, Ginny caught Hermione's arm and whispered in her ear. The latter flushed and turned to her friend.

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Why not? Either it will help or he won't notice, so you can't lose anything by trying." Ginny grinned and winked.

"But it's so... brazen!" Hermione was not sure she could bring herself to follow Ginny's suggestion.

"You started it, Hermione. Now, follow through!" The red-head shoved her gently towards her room. "Go on!"

"OK, OK, I'm going."

At seven o'clock Hermione arrived at the Potions classroom, unsure whether to expect the grim Potions professor or her suddenly flirtatious husband-to-be. She glanced down at the simple Muggle blouse and skirt she was wearing under her robes, hoping she had chosen correctly.

Unaccountably nervous, she entered the room and glanced around to find it empty. Removing her robes as Ginny had instructed, Hermione stood at her usual desk and closed her eyes briefly as she recovered her composure. In the room redolent with the familiar smells of old wood, aromatic potions ingredients, and the acrid top note of the cauldron cleanser, the chill of the stone walls and floor permeating the air, and the odd, echoing silence, she felt her anxiety leaching away, replaced with a more pleasurable tension.

Her spine tingled as she sensed another presence in the room. She opened her eyes and turned to face him as he studied her from across the room, seemingly transfixed by the suddenly hardened nipples and gentle sway of her unconfined breasts clearly evident beneath the fine fabric of her blouse. Hermione was certain she heard a soft moan as he turned to close and ward the door.

Snape had obviously discarded his teaching robes earlier in the evening, wearing only a white shirt and black wool trousers. Apart from the towel incident, she had never seen him out of his robes. He looked different without their protective armour hiding his lean, graceful body. Younger. Less severe. Approachable.

The unique scent of Severus Snape, enhanced by his usual environment, grew stronger and more intoxicating as he stalked in a circle around her... once... twice... gradually drawing closer. Time stood still until he finally reached out with one finger and slowly caressed one taut, aching peak. It was her turn to moan as the fire of his touch shot directly to her rapidly moistening centre.

"Severus... please."

"Please, what?" he asked, lips brushing her left ear. "What is it you want, my dear?" Both breasts were now under siege as he moved closer, pinning her against the desk with one strong leg between hers, his arousal straining against her belly.

"More."

"More?" An eyebrow quirked. "More of what?" He lowered his hips and thrust against her, slowly rubbing his impressive bulge almost, but not quite, where she needed it to be.

"You. Me. This. Dammit, man, you know what I mean!" she growled.

His hands slid from her breasts to her waist, then further down until he gripped the sides of her knee-length skirt. Easing it slowly upwards, Snape continued to grind himself against her and with a final tug the fabric was removed.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as she felt the cool air and rough wool of his trousers against her nakedness. Her bra was not the only undergarment Ginny had suggested she leave in her room.

As his fingers slid unerringly to her moist heat and discovered no further barrier to his touch, he murmured, "Well, well. What have we here? Has someone been anticipating something?" His voice was hoarse with desire.

Fingers explored slippery surfaces and found that spot – that sweet, needy spot – then proceeded to stroke and flick and grind until she could stand no more without reciprocating. Reaching down for the buttons restraining his passion, she undid them one by one. Before he had a chance to once again deny them their need, she had grasped him in her hand and started a rhythm of her own.

Lips met and tongues tangled as they each fulfilled a long-held fantasy until with a cry and a groan both came undone by one another's hand, almost fully-dressed, there in the Potions classroom.

As her heart slowed and breathing returned to normal, Hermione opened her eyes to find Snape's gaze fixed on her face and an incredulous expression on his.

"I didn't intend for that to happen," he started as he re-buttoned his trousers, "but..."

"Don't you dare say you regretted it, Severus Snape!" Hermione's eyes flashed with anger as she straightened her own clothes.

"I was about to say I didn't intend for that to happen, but it was... you were... amazing!" Without warning, his lips met hers with a passion so intense all previous kisses paled by comparison.

As the heat of arousal once again flared, Snape put his fiancée aside with obvious reluctance.

"No. Not tonight, my wanton witch. I had only planned to torment you a little further, as you have done to me. Besides, I believe you have a party to attend if my sources are accurate." He smiled as he saw disappointment cloud her features. "Tomorrow night will come soon enough, and then you can do with me as you wish," he promised.

"You may just regret that offer," Hermione growled. She picked up her bag and prepared to return to her quarters, then turned back and added, "I have one question though. Where did you learn how to do what you did today? You had me so turned on all afternoon I could hardly think straight. I thought you were... er... inexperienced." She flushed a little as Snape smirked.

"You, my dear, are not the only incurable swot around here. And consider it fair retribution for all those cold showers I have been taking lately."

Hermione couldn't help herself. She shook her head and laughed out loud. "You... you... found a book that taught you seduction? Were you hoping to score extra credit or something?"

"Well, I believe there was some mention of practical application made earlier. I was just proving I understood the material."

"Oh, you certainly have grasped the subject well, Severus. But I'm sure I can still teach you a few tricks." She reached up to kiss his cheek and was surprised to find herself enveloped in his arms once more.

"Tomorrow," he whispered into her hair, then turned and left the room.

Hermione collapsed onto her bed just after midnight, having finally chased two very merry, gaudily made-up boys into their rooms. All the adult students, even Draco Malfoy, had joined in the festivities, although of the males present, only Ron and Harry had succumbed to Lavender's make-up brush. Luna was sharing Lavender's room for the night, and Ginny was presently flat on her back on a transfigured cot beside her, too weary to get up and undress. The headmistress had given special permission for the two seventh-years to join in the festivities, as long as they stayed in the adult students quarters and were not caught roaming the castle after the party.

"Tell me why we had to play all those silly games again, Hermione?" she asked.

"It's tradition. The boys insisted I had a hen party, so they had to play the games."

"But daring them to let Lavender loose on their faces!" Ginny giggled, remembering the looks on their faces when they had realised Hermione was serious.

"That'll teach them. They started the 'How Well Do You Know the Bride' game. Then told all my secrets. Although, I have no idea how Harry even knew that game existed! And they asked me about the first time I kissed Severus when I asked for a Truth."

"Did you see the look on Ron's face?"

"I know. Why do you think I went into so much detail?" Hermione grinned at the shocked look on her friend's face.

"He went quiet for a whole two minutes after that!" Ginny closed her eyes for a few minutes as they relaxed, then suddenly sat bolt upright and gasped, "Hermione! What on earth are you going to wear tomorrow?"

"Nothing," Hermione replied.

Ginny snorted. "I didn't mean tomorrow night. I meant at the wedding ceremony."

"Nothing special. I'll just wear something appropriate. I suppose school uniform might be a little off-putting if I want Severus to get in the right mood," the bride-to-be mused.

"Not unless he is hiding some decided kinks under those billowing robes of his," Ginny retorted.

"I doubt it. He is too straight-laced to have any kinks, although he is definitely showing signs of loosening up." Her body warmed again with the memory of his attentions earlier in the evening.

"Loosening up? I think you have somehow misplaced the original Snape and created a new one, Hermione. I can't believe our plan worked so well!" Ginny had been given a very condensed version of events just before the party had started. "Hermione, what was it like, doing that to him?" she asked.

"Him, as in Snape the professor, or him, as in Severus the man?"

"The man. Having so much power over him, you know?"

Hermione was silent for a few moments as she considered Ginny's question. It had been incredibly intense, knowing she could make Severus Snape lose control. "It was... I don't know... unbelievable, brilliant, touching. But he did the same to me. I felt so close to him afterwards. It was as if we had shared something really meaningful – made ourselves vulnerable. I really think we can make a go of this marriage, Ginny. I really do."

"I have no doubt about it," Ginny replied. "But you still need to decide what to wear."

"Jeans and T-shirt may be a little too casual. I don't want him to think I am not taking this seriously." Hermione sighed. "I suppose I could use the red dress Mum gave me last summer."

"You can't wear red," Ginny decided. "Too Gryffindor. We'll have to transfigure it into a different colour."

Hermione didn't like to tell her Severus actually liked red. "What about deep purple? I've always wanted a dress that colour."

"That will be perfect. No House affiliations at all."

With that decided, the two girls gradually settled into sleep, both dreaming of their dark-haired wizards.

Hermione woke on Saturday morning to the soft snoring of her red-headed friend. For a moment, she puzzled over finding Ginny in her bedroom, but her fuzzy head and morning-after-the-night-before breath refreshed her memory. Although she had not imbibed enough alcohol the previous evening to develop the full-blown hangover the boys were sure to be suffering, her movements were somewhat tentative as she made her way to the bathroom. After showering and cleaning her teeth, she felt decidedly more human, returning to the bedroom to nudge Ginny awake.

With a groan, her friend sluggishly opened one eye. "No. It's not morning yet. Go away!" She rolled over and pulled the blanket over her head.

"Wake up, Gin. It's Saturday!"

Ginny sat up abruptly and stared at Hermione. "It's Saturday!"

"I said that already."

"Your wedding day!"

The bride-to-be flopped onto her bed and covered her eyes with the pillow. "Oh, fuck! Can I change my mind? I don't think I'm ready, after all." The significance of the afternoon's ceremony suddenly terrified her, and the reality of the night to follow loomed as threateningly as Snape over cauldrons in the Potions classroom.

"I thought you couldn't wait to get him into your bed? You seemed to be looking forward to it, especially after last night." Ginny was confused at her friend's change of attitude.

"I do... I am... I'm just..."

"Worried it won't work?" Ginny laid a comforting hand on Hermione's arm.

"Terrified, actually. I've been so busy trying to get him over his anxiety about sex, I haven't stopped to think about mine!" she wailed.

"What anxiety? I thought you didn't have any?"

"Neither did I until now," Hermione replied, hands twisting in the pillow she held.

"Tell me. What is bothering you?" Ginny asked gently, taking Hermione's hand in hers.

"Just everything. What if he hates me for pushing him into this? What if he doesn't like my body? What if he really is lousy at sex? What if...?"

"A man who can write an essay as detailed as he did, kiss as well as you said he does, and torment you so deliciously yesterday, is not going to be lousy at sex. It may take a little practice, but that's a good thing, right? And from what you told me about his response to you last night, I doubt he has any complaints about your body."

Hermione giggled, but unbidden anxiety welled up again despite Ginny's reassuring words. "Even if the sex is great, he may still resent being forced to marry. He is so damned complicated. Does he even know how to be happy?"

"Oh, Hermione, I don't think you have anything to worry about. I'm sure he wants this to work as much as you do," she soothed.

"How do you know, Ginny? What did he say to you yesterday morning?" Hermione regarded her closest girlfriend as the faint stirrings of hope began lifting her clouds of despair.

"He cares, Hermione, he truly does. Oh, he didn't say in so many words, but trust me, he does. It may not be love yet, but he wants this marriage to work as much as you do. Just give him a chance," she pleaded.

Hermione didn't reply, mind lost in possibilities for long moments as the warmth of Ginny's reassurance dissipated her fears.

"You're right, Gin. He has told me as much himself. I'm sorry for being stupid about it all." She grinned weakly.

"Don't worry. Every bride is allowed an attack of nerves on her wedding day. At least I now know you are human, after all! Come one, let's go and see if the boys feel human this morning."

Down in the dungeons, the Potions master awoke with a smile on his face and an urgent need distorting his pants. Sliding down the waistband of his boxers, Severus Snape proceeded to follow his fiancée's instructions to the letter, his strokes rapidly becoming urgent and erratic as he cried out her name. Recently awakened libido temporarily sated, he showered and dressed, preparing for his last few hours of bachelorhood. To his surprise, he felt no regret weighing on his mind, only the unfamiliar sense that something good had finally found him. Catching himself about to leave his quarters with a daft grin on his face, he carefully reapplied his scowl and stalked off to breakfast, reassured the Potions professor was still in residence.

The various unhappily nauseated expressions on the faces of Hogwarts' adult students led Snape rapidly to the correct conclusion. In a fit of magnanimity, never to be repeated, he summoned a house-elf and bade him to deliver several vials of hangover potion to the afflicted. He added strict instructions not to reveal the source. Only the two young women currently seated at the Gryffindor table appeared to realise from whence the life-saving elixir originated, and each raised her glass to salute the donor. He smirked and lifted his glass in turn.

"See, I told you he could be decent," Hermione declared, watching the relieved faces around her.

"Preaching to the converted, sister." Ginny grinned. "Pity he didn't wait a while, though. I was rather enjoying watching their discomfort. Why do boys always overdo it? They are such idiots!"

"I heard that," complained Harry, who had been the last to partake of the hangover potion. He held the vial up to inspect the label. "Looks like Snape's writing. Wonder who was smart enough to think of pilfering some of his supplies?"

"Like I said. Idiots." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Who do you think supplied it?"

Harry looked around at his peers. Certainly, none of them had been in a fit state to perform any pilfering. Realisation slowly dawned as he noticed the smirk on Snape's face. "You don't mean...?"

"Yes, Harry, dear. Professor Snape took pity on you. I'm not sure why – none of you deserved it."

"Aw, Gin. Don't be like that. It was such a good party. Men will be men, you know that." Harry grovelling was not a pretty sight.

"And boys will be foolish," she retorted. "I just hope you all grow up one day. Hopefully, before we get married, Harry Potter!"

"Yes, miss." His sloppy salute and rueful grin were Ginny's undoing. Bestowing a quick peck on his cheek, she stood and turned to Hermione. "Time to take the bride off to prepare. Come along, dear, your bridegroom will be expecting perfection later, and perfection takes time."

"Good grief, Gin. The ceremony isn't until four this afternoon. What on earth will take that long?" Hermione asked, horrified at the thought of a whole day spent primping when there was study to be done.

"Trust me," Ginny replied, taking her arm. "Let's go."

As they left the Great Hall, Hermione turned and shot an apologetic glance at her intended. She had hoped to spend a little time with him that morning, but with Ginny in full 'Molly mode,' it wasn't to be.

Ginny spotted the direction of her gaze. "No communing with the bridegroom before the wedding," she ordered.

"But what exactly are we going to do?" Hermione whined.

"We are going out to partake of some fresh air and clear our heads."

"Ginny Weasley. It's freezing out there. Do you really want me to turn up this afternoon in shades of blue?"

"Don't be such a baby. We'll wrap up warmly and just take a short walk. Then we'll spend some time relaxing with a book or two. No, Hermione, not a textbook. Something light and fluffy that will put you in the right mood for later. Some tea and cakes would be nice. Then, after lunch, you make yourself beautiful for your new husband." Ginny firmly steered her friend back to her room to collect her cloak, hat, and gloves and prepare for her wedding.

Prompt: 1. Something Old. The Marriage Law Challenge. Many thanks to karelia for the beta.