Chapter Twenty-four: So Much for Self-control.

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Chapter Twenty-four: So Much for Self-control

Somewhere, deep in Snape's mind and almost buried in a miasma of passion and desire, a little something nagged at his conscience. Something important he really should remember.

Not as important as the hand stroking him through his trousers, however.

Lifting her onto the nearest desk allowed him to blaze a trail of heat up the outside of her thighs, skimming around the crest of her hipbones to continue back down to the delicate skin behind her knees. Opening to him, she tilted her pelvis to try and encourage his fingers closer... closer...

A cry of frustration as his hands left her skin mewled into a pleased whimper as, even through wool and cotton, exquisite friction began a relentless spiral of sensation, Obliviating any remaining conscious thought.

Snape's tongue finally tasted the honey of her mouth, lapping up her murmuring pleasure as the rhythm of his movements increased its pace.

Bottom firmly braced against the hard wood beneath her, hands clutching at the uncompromising layers of fabric hindering her goal of bare skin to bare skin, Hermione heard herself groan as Snape's trapped hardness slid along the damp cotton of the underwear exposed by his equally desperate efforts. The sound of the stoic Potions professor's gasp at the intimate contact served only to encourage Hermione's attempts until she managed to part the offending robes and push them to the floor. Finding his upper body clad only in a fine white shirt, which had already become partially untucked, she slipped her hands beneath the fabric to find delicious, heated skin.

Snape had likewise succeeded in dispensing with the buttons of her blouse and the flimsy front closure of her bra, baring her to his gaze. He smiled as he found the silver chain and charms nestled between her breasts. As he lowered his mouth to taste victory in the form of a peaked, rosy nipple, his thrusts intensified further.

"Wait, I need to..." Hermione fumbled with his belt. Dammit, Severus, why can't you use a normal buckle instead of this archaic contraption?

"No... can't stop." Breathing ragged, he batted away her hands and slipped a finger under the edge of her knickers to find the swollen, slick flesh beneath.

"Oh, gods, Severus. Yess!" Her lips found his again, and her tongue mimicked the action of their lower bodies as his skilled fingers worked in tandem with his relentless thrusting, encouraged by hands which had infiltrated under his waistband to cup lean buttocks.

"Come for me, Grace! I'm... I can't..."

Hermione closed her eyes as her body, denied his touch for so long, exploded into a vortex of sensation centred on the juncture of her thighs where the warmth and moistness of his throbbing release was echoed in his breathless cry of completion.

Several oxygen-restoring minutes later, Hermione reluctantly extracted her hands from his trousers. "So much for talking."

"Talk is overrated." Snape quirked a smile as he reached for his wand to remove the sticky mess in his underwear.

"No. Don't." Hermione stilled his hand. "I rather like the idea of you walking around the rest of the day like that. It'll stop you denying this ever happened."

"Merlin, Granger, you're a kinky wench. Just as well these survived your ministrations." He retrieved his robes from the floor and proceeded to cover the evidence. "You realise this is going to be damp and uncomfortable."

She grinned. "Serves you right. I tried to unbutton you." Her smile faded as she heard the dull murmur of children's voices on the other side of the door. "Fuck! I thought you used a Silencing Charm."

Snape groaned and met her eyes. "One-way Charm. My own refinement. Means I can still hear what's going on. That'll be the first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws."

"I have to get to Arithmancy, but this conversation is not over, Severus Snape!" Hermione straightened her robes and headed across the room. "You ready?" At his nod, she unlocked and opened the door.

"... and in future, Miss Granger, you will refrain from such vulgar public displays and remember your place as a senior student at this school. Your detention is at seven o'clock this evening. With Mr Filch."

Bastard. "Yes, sir." Hermione lowered her head as she passed the goggle-eyed first years. Only after she had passed out of their view did she succumb to the giggles she had been straining to silence. Vulgar public displays? Who's he to talk?

***

Hermione tugged at her robes for the final time and cast a quick Cooling Charm on her face before opening the door to the Arithmancy classroom. Surprised at Professor Vector's simple nod as she entered, she slid into her seat beside Blaise and quietly pulled out her textbook, parchment, and quill. As she settled into reading the numbers shimmering on the blackboard and deciding the calculations needed to resolve the equation, the professor stopped at her desk.

"Are you all right, Miss Granger? You look a little flushed." The older woman's concern creased her brow.

"I'm fine, thank you, Professor."

"I know Professor Snape can be a little... difficult at times. You mustn't take it personally, dear."

Hermione nodded. "I know. But it was my own fault. I should have shown more decorum. Thanks for your support though."

"Very well. Carry on then." Vector continued her rounds of the classroom, stopping every so often to answer a question or ask one of her own.

Hermione glanced at Blaise. "Thanks for covering for me."

"I knew you'd be late. Didn't realise your little chat would take quite so long. Just what were you two doing down there?"

"You don't want to know, Blaise. Trust me." Hermione grinned. "But the ungrateful bastard gave me detention with Mr Filch tonight. Bloody prat."

"Ungrateful?"

"Not telling." She reached over and pointed to his parchment. "That should be a three back there, by the way."

"Oh, bollocks. I'll have to start again." Blaise grimaced at his calculations. "It was the thought of you and Snape naked. Put me off."

Hermione giggled. "Idiot. You have a filthy mind. No-one was naked." Slightly exposed, maybe, but he doesn't need to know that.

"You're no fun, Granger. How will I cope if you won't provide me with fantasy material? A man's got to have some joy in life, you know."

Restraining a snort at the perfectly straight face Blaise had managed to maintain, Hermione shook her head and turned back to her own work.

Half an hour later, she remembered Ginny's comment on New Year's Day. "I heard you and Luna were getting on well at the Burrow. Do you have something to tell me?"

Blaise turned and smiled. "Jealous, I hope?"

She slapped his arm. "Extremely. I thought I had your undying devotion."

"You rejected me, Granger, remember? In my deepest despair I had to take my shattered feelings and seek solace in another's arms." His grin widened. "She's a smart one, Luna. Knows far more than anyone realises. You do realise she saw straight through the performance you gave after Snape left."

Hermione stiffened. "What?"

"Don't panic. She said she'd worked it out ages ago. Something to do with Wibbling Pimples. I must say, I didn't quite get that bit, but I presume you'll know what she meant. She said to tell you not to worry; she won't say a word. Said he's the perfect man for you, just needs a few Wrackspurts cleared from his brain before he figures it out too. She's really quite something."

"Ginny knows too." Sighing, Hermione finished packing her bag. "At this rate, the whole school will know what's going on before we've had a chance to figure it out for ourselves."

Blaise wrapped his arm around her shoulder and hugged her to his side as they left the classroom. "Never mind, perhaps you could ask Filch tonight for his advice."

"Pillock."

"Nutter."

"Tosser."

"Muppet."

***

Ron and Harry rushed into the Great Hall, flushed with fresh air and Quidditch fervour.

"Hey, 'Mione!" called Ron. "You survived!"

"Survived what?" Hermione looked up from her textbook.

"Your little chat with Snape." Harry grinned.

"Apart from a detention with Mr Filch, yes."

"Ouch. No more kiss-blowing then?"

"Not in public, anyway." Ginny couldn't resist.

"Ginny! That's not funny!" Ron's face had turned an interesting shade of pink.

The laws governing Derivative Polyarithmancy became suddenly fascinating as Hermione hid her own blush in her book, thankful when the conversation rapidly turned to George's 'amazing' coaching session.

"And then he just tossed out all the spare Bludgers and let them have at us! It was brilliant! Pity about old Jimmy though. Still, Madam Pomfrey said he'd be as right as rain tomorrow." Ron snaffled the last piece of chocolate cake from Hermione's plate. "You don't want that, do you, 'Mione?"

"Ronald! I was saving that to take back to my room. I thought some chocolate might be handy after detention. Heaven knows what I'll end up doing."

Ron shuddered and offered the remaining, slightly squashed, third of the cake. "Rather you than me. Here, take it."

Shaking her head, Hermione put her book away and stood. "No, thanks. I think I've gone off chocolate."

Making her way down to Argus Filch's office, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Why do I suspect Filch's company might be preferable to that lot sometimes? They have no clue at all. Fancy George letting the Bludgers loose. Somebody could have been seriously hurt. Bloody irresponsible, that's what it was...

"Well, well, what have we here? A miscreant. Excellent." The wiry caretaker beckoned to Hermione and pointed to a chair standing before his desk. "Sit."

Perched on the edge of the seat to avoid the accumulation of cat fur attached to the upholstery, Hermione glanced around the room. Surprising. Not what I expected from Harry's description. Everything seems very neat and clean, and he even has quite pleasant furnishings.

"Seen enough, girl?" Filch growled from behind her.

"Sorry. I was just admiring your desk. Mahogany, is it?"

Filch bared his teeth in what passed for a smile. "Yes. Nice piece that. Restored it myself."

"You did a wonderful job. The finish is very smooth." Turning towards Filch, Hermione offered a smile of her own. "Do you enjoy furniture restoration?"

"That I do, missy. Nothing like taking a poor, mistreated piece and bringing it back to the way it should be. Too many people take furniture for granted. It should be respected and cared for if they want it to serve 'em well." Filch's expression had softened, and his hand caressed the surface of the desk as he spoke.

"I see you have kept Miss Granger out of trouble, Argus." Snape's expression was impossible to read as he entered the office. Reaching into his robes, he withdrew a small flask. "Here's your rheumatism remedy. Remember, no more than five drops a day."

"Much obliged, Professor. Do you need me to find something for the young lady to do?"

Hermione's eyes widened as the elderly caretaker appeared to smile at her again.

"No, thank you, Argus. I'll take over her detention now." Snape glared Hermione into standing, then turned for the door. "Follow me, Miss Granger."

What in Merlin's name is he up to now? And why was Mr Filch so friendly?

Oh, come on, Severus, I don't have great long legs like yours. Slow down!

"Oof!" I didn't mean stop in the middle of the corridor, you prat.

"I can hear you thinking, Hermione."

"Well, stop listening to my thoughts and slow down, will you? I'm getting out of breath trying to keep up."

"Fitness, Miss Granger. You obviously need more exercise."

I'll give you exercise. "I'm sure I can think of plenty of physical activities I can do. Running..." after certain Potions professors, "jumping..." your bones, "pulling... stroking..." She smirked at his glare, "... licking, sucking..."

"Hermione!"

Her smile was all innocence. "Swallowing uses a few muscles, doesn't it?"

"Gods!"

"Oh, Professor, is there a problem? You seem to have slowed down." Hermione increased her pace, leaving Snape muttering dire imprecations as he followed.

Ignoring the doors to his classroom and office, Hermione continued on to his quarters and leaned against the wall of the corridor beside a startled Elizabeth Burke, who had just returned from a lovely gossip session with Violet.

"You! What are you doing down here?"

Hermione glanced down the corridor in both directions. Snape had disappeared into his office, and the corridor appeared empty. Finally realising she had been addressed by the woman in the portrait beside her, she forced a smile.

"Oh, hello. You must be Elizabeth." The peeping cow the Fat Lady told me about.

"I am. I guard the Professor's door. No-one is allowed entrance unless he has given permission." The portrait crossed her arms and looked down her nose at Hermione.

"Really? We'll see about that." As Hermione raised her hand to knock, the door opened, and with a scowl at Elizabeth, Snape pulled her through into his living room.

"You didn't say anything to the interfering busybody out there, did you?"

Noting his slightly damp face, discarded robes, and loosened collar, Hermione shook her head. "Of course not." Walking over to the sofa, she made herself comfortable without awaiting an invitation.

Snape challenged her with an eyebrow, then conceded defeat. "Talk. If we must." He stood at the fireplace, spine stiff, trying to ignore the ever-increasing demands from his groin.

"We must." Hermione gestured to the armchair across from the sofa. "Please, Severus, sit down. You're making me uncomfortable, looming over there."

"You make me uncomfortable just being in the same room, woman." He made no attempt to disguise the obvious bulge in his trousers, glancing down as he moved to the chair.

Looks fairly uncomfortable too. Still, if he's good and can keep his brain engaged long enough for us to have a conversation, perhaps I'll help him with that. "Nevertheless, we can't ignore the situation. We have to decide what to do." Dammit, I thought he was supposed to be the mature one in this relationship.

Is that what we have? A relationship?

Snape slumped back in the armchair, shaking his head. "I can't think straight half the time, let alone make decisions. I swore I'd restrain myself until after you had graduated, but this afternoon... I... I... bloody hell, see what you do to me!"

Hermione watched as the professor's composure crumbled and the man she knew and loved looked back at her, vulnerable and unsure. Steeling herself not to simply move into his arms and burn away the uncertainty with her kisses, she remained seated.

"I know. I feel the same watching you swoop down the corridors. I want to be the third year you berate, just to have your voice caressing me. I want to be your robes and embrace you as they do. I want to be with you and feel the warmth of your body beside me and around me and inside me. But I know you're right. There's too much at stake.

"But I need to know one thing, Severus. What do you want from this? From us? What do you want when I'm no longer your student?"

"Everything. And nothing. You deserve so much more." His eyes glistened with unaccustomed honesty and openness.

"More than what? A good man? I've found one.

"An honourable man? A man of wit and humour and grace? He's right here.

"A man whose touch makes my body sing and whose body leaves me breathless? I already have him.

"A man I love?"

Hermione moved over to Snape's chair and kneeled at his feet, placing her head in his lap. As his fingers gently wove through her hair, she whispered, "You're everything I want and need, Severus Snape."

For long moments the two remained silent, each wrestling with the conflict of need and desire with expectations and duty.

Hermione lifted her head some time later to realise Snape's hand had stilled. His head rested on the back of the armchair, and his thick, black lashes brushed his cheek as he let out a soft puff of a snore. She smiled to see how much younger he looked with the stress ironed out from his face in the relaxation of sleep. Easing gently from his arms, she retrieved a soft blanket from the back of the sofa and draped it across his body.

Before she left, Hermione found a blank piece of parchment on his desk and penned a brief note.

I left before we could get carried away again, much as I would have liked to.

P.S. I forgot to thank you for the beautiful chain and charms. They are exquisite.

As she replaced the quill, Hermione noticed the Calendar Charm hovering over the corner of the desk. January 4th,1999. Clever bit of magic there. Must ask him about the spell used.

Closing the door quietly, she made her way back to Gryffindor Tower, her mind once again on the man sleeping peacefully down in the dungeons.

"Got a problem, dearie?" The Fat Lady asked as she gave the password.

"Pardon?"

"You look like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. Reminds me of the headmistress back when she was a seventh year. Mind you, between you and me, she had a lot to worry about back then, what with her carrying on with Professor Dumbledore and all." The giggling portrait suddenly covered her mouth and looked behind her. "Ooh, but don't tell anyone I told you!"

"Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore? While she was a student?" Hermione gaped at the portrait. "Are you sure?"

"Saw it with me own eyes, lovey. They thought I was asleep. Very irresponsible he was, keeping her out so late."

"But what happened? Didn't they get into trouble?"

"Oh, nothing much came of it. Turned out he was... well, you know, not destined to be a ladies' man, if you know what I mean." The Fat Lady gave a lewd wink. "Found out he preferred the laddies to the lassies."

Hermione brushed off the revelations about Dumbledore's sexuality. Everyone knew he had been gay once his early relationship with Grindelwald had been uncovered. "But what happened before then? Did anyone find out?"

"Oh, it was all around the school. Nice juicy bit of gossip it was, too."

"But he didn't lose his job, and then he became headmaster later."

The portrait shrugged. "Some loophole in the School Charter I heard. Shocking, really, the things people can get away with."

"Terrible." Hermione nodded, eager to get away from the garrulous portrait. "Well, I must go to bed. Goodnight."

Despite her supposed detention with Argus Filch, Hermione could not help the grin stretching across her face as she entered the common room.

She had a plan.

***

A/N: This story was written for shalimar1981 for the TPP Every Flavour Auction. My thanks go to karelia for her brilliant beta skills.

Sorry about the wait. I took a while to get this chapter written, then my poor beta was without internet until a couple of days ago. Kudos for her for looking at this so quickly amongst everything else she had to catch up with. xx