Chapter Eleven

Play the game for more than you can afford to lose ... only then will you learn the game. Winston Churchill

Severus returned from the cave, back to Hogwarts, trying not to panic. He was sure there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for Hermione's absence. There was no cause for alarm. Yet.

He stood in the middle of the room and tried to calm his pounding heart. It embarrassed him that he, of all people, allowed his fear to unsettle his reason. For fuck's sake, Snape, you used to be a sodding spy – use that supposedly brilliant mind of yours to think! He chided himself, and took a deep breath to quell the rising anxiety. She had to be somewhere. Riding on the coattails of that thought was a new, insidious notion: what if she didn't want him to find her?

He looked around their bedroom for clues. Nothing was missing; all her clothes were in place. He opened the wardrobe and breathed a cautiously hopeful sigh at the sight of her beaded bag. Hermione never went anywhere for any length of time without that bag. It had been with her since her year on the run before the end of the war, and even Severus admitted it was a thing of pure genius, even if it was a trifle shabby now. If it was still here, Hermione wasn't seriously thinking of leaving. Yet.

Severus stepped into their bathroom, and breathed a final sigh of relief. Her toothbrush was still here. Hermione, daughter of dentists, never went anywhere for longer than a day without it – next to her wand and the bag, it was her most indispensable travel companion. Hermione hadn't left him. Yet.

Feeling slightly dizzy with relief, Severus sat down and tried to gather his thoughts. He honestly didn't think they'd crossed paths going to and from the Malfoys; Lucius, knowing Severus' anxiety, would have insisted that Hermione Floo-call him. He honestly couldn't see her showing up at Grimmauld Place or the Burrow at midnight, asking if she could stay the night. Her parents were living in Australia and had been since before the war; both Hermione and Severus had long ago sold their childhood residences. Hogwarts was their only home now.

Severus leapt to his feet, fighting the urge to slap his forehead. Of course! "Winky!" he bellowed. Instantly the little house-elf appeared, twisting her hands in her Hogwarts tea towel. Her round eyes were huge and troubled.

"Is the Headmaster needing anything, sir?" she asked, her squeaky voice fraught with concern. The Headmaster never bothered house-elves this late at night.

"Winky, could you please find Mrs. Snape, and tell her – ask her to please return to Hogwarts with you?" Severus fought to keep the irritation from showing in his voice. Here he'd been, running about like a headless chicken, when he could have located her in five seconds had he been thinking straight. House-elves, with their own powerful magic, were expert in locating people and objects. It only occurred to Severus afterward to be grateful for their legendary discretion as well. The gossips would have a field day with this if they found out.

Winky nodded so enthusiastically Severus was afraid she would bang her head on the floor. She squeaked, "Yes, sir. Winky will be finding Mrs. Headmaster in two ticks." The house-elf disappeared with a small "POP!" and Severus sat back and waited, praying to the gods Hermione would agree to return. He'd purposely chosen Winky because of Hermione's well-known affinity for the once-abused elf, and Severus felt smugly sure Hermione would come back if only to spare the house-elf's feelings. Once she was here, Severus would take over. He'd do whatever it took to keep her here. He'd get down on his knees and beg ...

It occurred to him that Winky was taking an inordinately long time to return. Most house-elves could locate someone within seconds. If she was taking this long, perhaps Hermione wasn't inclined to return with her. What if Winky couldn't persuade Hermione to come back to Hogwarts? Severus began to pace. What if Hermione had left him? What if she was planning on coming back in the morning to pick up her things, her bag, her toothbrush?

The "POP" that signaled Winky's return made Severus actually jump, and his heart fell to his feet at the sight of the house-elf. She was alone, and she looked worried. She ran to Severus' side.

"Headmasters, Winky is finding Mrs. Headmaster, but Winky can't get her to wake up!" Tears stood in the house-elf's enormous round eyes. "Winky shake and shake her arm, and then Winky tries magic to open her eyes, but the Mrs. Headmaster doesn't wake up! Winky thinks Mrs. Headmaster is poisoned!"

Severus felt a rush of adrenaline like a ball of fire running through his system. He forced himself not to panic. "Where is she, Winky? Take me to her." Even as he spoke, Severus strode to a special cupboard in his study, and grabbed a standard potions kit from the shelf. It contained several non-specific poison antidotes, and Severus could easily create something for a more specific need. He would not allow himself to think further.

Winky was nodding. "Yes, sir, Winky can take you there!" She took the Headmaster's large hand in hers, and together they Apparated with a loud "CRACK!"

Severus found himself back in the cave. He frowned. "Winky, I've looked here before. Are you sure – "

"Winky is finding her in the red room, sir!" The little house-elf was dragging him back to the far unlit wall of the cave, to where he'd taken Hermione on the examination table. He cursed himself for not checking. Damn him and his blind panic! He should have torn the entire cave apart, instead of giving the opening a cursory glance and racing back to Hogwarts like a dunderheaded first-year.

He lit the wall sconces, which bathed the back of the cave in lurid red. He could make out a figure, lying on its side on the table, as still as death. It was Hermione.

Fear and urgency gave Severus wings, and he ran to his wife's side, leaving the little house-elf behind. "Hermione!" he called hoarsely, but the figure on the table didn't move. Severus moaned softly as he reached her side, and took her in his arms. "Hermione, please ..." he whimpered, more afraid that he'd ever been, even the night he faced his own death.

He gathered her in his arms, looking at her closely. In the dim, scarlet-hued light she looked waxy. Severus laid her gently back down on the table to run a diagnostic spell. As his shaking hand made the first pass, Severus noticed a small potion vial near her head. He recognized it immediately: Draught of Dreamless Sleep.

Feeling almost lightheaded, Severus looked down at Winky, who returned his gaze with worry-filled eyes. "Is the Mrs. Headmaster going to be alright, sir?" the house-elf queried, her voice shrill with fear as she twisted her long fingers in her tea towel.

Laughing shakily, Severus held up his hand to reassure the tiny creature. "Mrs. Snape will be fine, Winky. She's taken a powerful sleeping draught, but it will wear off in a matter of hours."

He looked back at Hermione – really looked at her. She had been crying, hard. Her eyes were terribly swollen, tears had dried on her cheeks like lines of salt, and her nose was running. Quietly, he lifted his wife in his arms. She felt so small and vulnerable, and he pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead.

As she settled into his arms, another small vial fell from her fingers. Winky scrambled to pick it up. "The Mrs. Headmaster is dropping this, sir," she said. "Shall I carry it for the Headmaster?" she added helpfully, her large eyes blinking rapidly.

Severus turned to the little house-elf. "That would be most helpful, Winky, thank you. Now, will you return us to Hogwarts?"

Relieved, Winky nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes, sir! Winky will be happy to!" With a sharp "POP!" Severus found himself back in his bedchambers at Hogwarts, his sleeping wife in his arms.

After gently cleansing Hermione's face and making sure that she was safely ensconced and sleeping peacefully in their bed, Severus retrieved the vial from Winky, dismissing the elf with a celebratory bottle of Butterbeer. He sat down and allowed himself a moment to contemplate what had happened.

From what he could deduce, Hermione must have blind-Apparated back to the cave shortly after he departed. She must have been truly distraught to try something so foolhardy. For reasons he could not fathom, she took a vial of Dreamless Sleep with her. His heart cramped when he realized that, while he'd been selfishly pouring his heart out to Lucius, trying to get someone to tell him what an utter bastard he'd been to his precious wife, Hermione had returned to the scene of the crime, been unable to find him and had simply taken the potion and cried herself to sleep. Looking down at her now, his heart swelled with the joy that she hadn't left him, coupled with a desire to take every point from Gryffindor House for scaring him so. He didn't know whether to hold her or spank her. He wanted to do both.

He wanted her to want him to do both.

He examined the vial that Winky had retrieved. As he turned the bottle this way and that, he saw silvery-white wisps of memories churning within, like strands of unicorn hair suspended in liquid. He could only deduce that the memories held the clues as to what had happened, and why.

Severus approached the bed and sat down beside his sleeping wife. In the huge bed she looked even more vulnerable and fragile. Her lovely face, though swollen and blotchy from her tears, was so dear to him. It shone with fierce intelligence, and love, and more than anything he wanted her to open her eyes and show him that love again. He was terrified of her waking and turning away from him in disgust.

Once upon a time he could have survived such an encounter by shutting down his emotions and walking away, telling himself that his pride was all he needed to survive. He had almost convinced himself that love was a weakness, that denial of it was the true sign of strength.

That was before Hermione came into his life and made him want to be a better man – before he'd learned how strong love truly could be. He looked at her again, and tugged his earlobe. Love's got a lot to answer for, he thought. No. Love was doing just fine until lust and power games slithered into the picture.

Severus leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, and reluctantly rose from the bed. He glanced down again at the little vial of memories. She had extracted them for a reason. He straightened. What the hell. He was a Slytherin. He'd just have to ask for forgiveness later, rather than risk permission now.

The memories slid from the vial into his Pensieve, and he swirled them into the bowl, using his wand, before lowering his face into the churning matter.

He was in a very familiar place; he'd left it not two hours ago. Malfoy Manor.

He could hear the sounds of a scuffle and from his vantage point, Lucius, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy stood off to one side. All of them looked as if they were there at the request of Lucifer himself. Lucius looked hollow-eyed and disheveled, unkempt and unshaven, his blond hair dull and greasy. To his right, his hated sister in-law Bellatrix Lestrange was ordering several Death Eaters to 'bring in the fugitives.'

It all gave Severus a sense of time and place. It was over ten years ago, shortly before the Battle of Hogwarts. The day the so-called 'Golden Trio' was captured by Snatchers and brought to Malfoy Manor.

With a sudden ache in his chest, Severus narrowed his eyes as he saw his wife being dragged into the room by two dirty, unkempt wizards he didn't recognise. Fenrir Greyback was practically drooling over Hermione, and even ten years later, Severus felt the murderous compulsion to hex the long-dead werewolf.

Behind Hermione, he saw Ronald Weasley and someone so swollen as to be unrecognizable. Severus remembered Hermione saying she had temporarily disfigured Harry with a Stinging hex so he could not be identified. After a fruitless attempt by Bella to get Draco to confirm the unknown boy as Harry, he and Weasley were dragged to the cellar.

As Hermione prepared to follow them, Bella turned on her with a smile that was predatory, almost sexual in its evil intent. "Why don't we have a chat, my dear – just us girls."

Severus felt sick as he watched Bella Crucio his precious wife onto the ground. To make matters worse, Hermione was being tortured for information about the very sword he'd delivered to Potter on Dumbledore's orders.

Severus made himself watch Hermione's torture, as if it were some sort of penance. Her screams tore through his heart, as Bella screeched insanely –

"CRUCIO! You're a lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! Tell the truth! What else did you take? What else have you got?"

"Nothing!" Hermione screamed, writhing on the Malfoy's carpet. "I don't know what you're talking about, I swear!" Severus felt sick with pity as Hermione pissed herself helplessly, moaning in pain and humiliation.

"Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife! What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!" Bella laughed maniacally as Hermione wailed pitifully, the pain turning her inside out, wracking her body with horrible, rictus-like spasms.

As Hermione tried to rise onto her hands and knees, Bella jumped on her in an obscene parody of riding a horse. Hermione was screaming for mercy, and Severus cried out as Bella grabbed her hair, ruthlessly pulling on it with both hands like the reins of a horse.

"I wish you could see yourself!" Bella crowed madly, her voice high-pitched, as Hermione's scream split the room in half. "Every Death Eater alive is going to take you for a ride soon, Mudblood! You might as well confess, you dirty little Mudblood bitch!"

"I don't know anything!" Hermione cried, as she began to vomit. She took great lungfuls of air, choking on her own tears and spit. "Please stop! Stop!"

Severus caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and saw Lucius and Narcissa. They were holding hands, their knuckles white. Blood dripped from Lucius' hands where Narcissa's nails had dug into his palms. He stared straight ahead, and Severus could see the haunted, desperate looks on their faces. Still the laughter went on, the hair pulling, the Crucios, the torture, the maniacal laughter of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Please," Hermione sobbed, her eyes mad with pain and fear. "Please, no more..." Bella's laughter was so grating Severus actually reached for her before remembering this was, after all, a ten-year-old memory about a person thankfully dead. He turned back and watched his brave girl, tears streaming down his face.

Hermione tried to crawl away but she was too weak ... her pleas for mercy went unheeded ... and still Bella held onto her hair, screeching, "That's right, little Mudblood! Beg! Beg me to let you go!"

Severus pushed himself from the Pensieve and stared into the room in shock and horror. "Oh gods, Hermione," he sobbed. "I didn't know! My poor, brave girl." Like a sleepwalker, Severus walked back into their bedroom, wiping his eyes. He felt exhausted by what he'd seen, numbed by the implications of what he'd heard.

I wish you could see yourself ... Beg me to let you go ... he remembered very clearly saying those words verbatim, while taking his wife, while tugging at her hair ...

You didn't know, Severus, he could almost hear Lucius telling him. You couldn't have known ... it was all a misunderstanding ...

Severus went into the bathroom and splashed water onto his face, the cold shocking his senses back into life. Hermione would awaken soon, and he knew he had to be there when she did. She needed him.

Hermione drifted awake, feeling warm and safe. The feeling of the soft mattress beneath her was in sharp contrast to the dank cold of the cave. She rose with a start and looked around. She was back in Hogwarts, in their bed. She sat for a moment, confused to the point of wondering if she had dreamed returning to the cave. No, she thought, giving herself a mental shake to clear her head. She had returned to the cave, praying Severus was there, hoping to explain herself.

"How do you feel?" Hermione whirled with a little gasp, and saw her husband standing in the doorway of their bedroom. He looked tired and worried, and unsure of his welcome. Hermione felt the tears threaten again.

"I - I went looking for you." She knew it sounded foolish to her own ears, but he nodded.

For a moment they remained still, and the silence hung between them like an apparition. Hermione took a deep breath and said quietly, "Please don't be angry with me. I can explain."

Severus walked into the room and sat beside her on the bed. He took her hands in his and kissed them softly. "There's no reason to be angry with you. I saw the memory."

Hermione closed her eyes, and when Severus took her in his arms, she felt her tears fall again. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he whispered, his sweet, silvery voice another kind of caress. "I completely misunderstood the situation, didn't I? You've never really told me about that night."

"I never really thought about it!" she cried, pulling away from him to look into his eyes. They were her husband's liquid black eyes, red-rimmed and swollen, full of concern and love. The relief she felt at that moment was her undoing. She threw her arms around him and sobbed against his chest. "I didn't mean to spoil everything!"

For several moments Severus rocked her in his arms, shushing and crooning to her, calming her with his gentle hands, his beautiful voice. "You haven't spoiled anything, pet. Shh. You'll make yourself ill," he soothed. "Hush now. It's alright. Don't cry now."

"Thank you," she whimpered. "Thank you."

She felt him stiffen, and pull away from her. He cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her face to his. "Why on earth are you thanking me, Hermione?"

She sniffed, and he produced a snowy handkerchief. "For not leaving me."

The stricken look on his face was enough to convince Hermione of his next words. "Leaving you? Pet, I thought you had left me! I was frantic when I couldn't find you! I was so distraught I sent Winky to locate you!" There was fear in his voice, seasoned with a tinge of anger, but it disappeared when he added, "I thought I had ruined our marriage, and I was terrified."

Hermione looked up in his eyes and was shocked to see tears standing in his eyes. "But – but you sent me away! You removed my bracelets!"

Severus swallowed uncomfortably. "I thought I was hurting you, Hermione. Out of the blue, you started screaming the safe word, and the only thing I could deduce that was that I'd been so caught up in dominating you that I wasn't even aware of harming you. I thought – oh, I don't know what I thought. I was just so frightened that I'd done some sort of damage and you were afraid of me."

He looked away, feeling more foolish by the second. "If I'd not been so ready to believe the worst in myself, I would have calmed down and had you explain what really happened." He looked ashamed. "I wasn't worthy enough to dominate you. I didn't take the responsibilities that I should have taken."

For a moment, they sat in silence. Finally, Hermione said, "It seems we were at cross-purposes, weren't we?" She tried to smile. "I think I need to explain everything."

Severus nodded, and when she pulled him close, he acquiesced and joined her in bed. Hermione relaxed against his chest, and when he gathered her in his arms, she felt as if she could continue.

She closed her eyes as she spoke. "It was – oh, Severus, what you did was wonderful. I have never felt so alive, so enthralled by you, so important to you, as I did in the cave. It was as if we were in a sort of sensual heaven, and everything you did and said to me excited me.

"We were on the bed, and I was just so far gone, so close to coming unglued," she marveled, remembering the feel of him driving into her, the pleasure of it overwhelming and welcome. "I was just on the brink of coming, and then you pulled my hair. It didn't even hurt," she added hastily, then shook her head.

"And suddenly it was as if I was there again. Suddenly, I just felt like I was encased in ice. It was like the world had disappeared and I was at Malfoy Manor on the carpet, wallowing in my own vomit, and Bellatrix was riding me like a fucking horse, screaming for me to beg her to let me go, and all I could think about was getting away." Hermione felt Severus' grip on her tighten. "The night it happened, I just remembered thinking; nothing I say will make this stop. She's going to torture me to death. I'm going to die here, and nothing I say will stop it."

Hermione felt Severus nod against the top of her head. "And then you remembered that you could say something to make it stop. Your safe word."

Hermione turned in his arms and looked up at him. "Yes! That's exactly what I was thinking." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, and he held her tighter. "Severus, you must believe me. I hadn't thought of that night in years. I mean, I attended counseling to help me learn to deal with it, for Merlin's sake!"

She sighed in frustration. "I thought I had learned to accept it and deal with it. I mean, Bellatrix is dead, and I hadn't really even thought about it for ages." She looked at him imploringly. "Why would I have a flashback in the middle of the most glorious sex of my life?"

For a moment, she thought he wasn't going to reply. Finally, he said, "I'm no expert, but I believe that the moments were similar enough to cause them to merge in your mind."

"But – but, you weren't hurting me!"

Patiently, Severus continued, "No, but you were physically in a very similar pose. You were experiencing intense physical sensations, you were in an extremely submissive state of surrender, and your guard was down. I said things that triggered the memory, albeit accidentally, and suddenly you were reliving the moment."

He placed a tender kiss on her forehead. "There's no shame in it, Hermione. What you were made to endure that day was an abomination. It was just an unfortunate set of coincidences that you were made to relive it during our lovemaking."

He held her closely, and Hermione felt safe, and even more importantly, understood. Severus' voice was dark and rich with emotion. "I forget, love, that my wife, whom I regard as the epitome of bravery, a fierce Gryffindor warrior-witch, was once a terrified eighteen year-old girl who was thrown into the middle of a war with only her wits and a beaded bag as her weapons against the greatest Dark force of our generation."

He turned her in his arms until they were facing one another. "I don't think this is something that will happen to you often. But it serves as a reminder that this type of sexual relationship isn't just a physical one – it affects us emotionally and mentally as well.

"When you called out the safe word, I thought I was hurting you without even realizing it. I thought the darkness in my life had brought you harm. I was so afraid I'd done irreparable damage that the coward in me fled." His voice was so low she could feel it vibrating in his chest. "I couldn't face you kicking me out of your life."

Hermione looked at him, and her heart ached. "Oh, Severus, this has been a tragedy of errors! If only you had stayed and let me explain!" She sighed again. "I thought you were disappointed in me – that I wasn't worthy of you and the time and trouble you'd gone to in order to make tonight so incredibly special."

She nestled against him again. "I came back here to see if you'd returned, and I grabbed a Calming Draught and a spare bottle from the cabinet to place my memories in. I was determined to show you what was going on in my head, in hopes you would forgive me and help me to understand why I reacted the way I did. When you didn't return home, I went back to the cave –"

"That's another thing, Hermione. How on earth did you go back?" he said, with a frown.

Hermione looked up at him rather sheepishly. "Well, I just closed my eyes and visualized the cave and Apparated."

Severus looked at her with such incredulity in his face Hermione felt as if she'd done something illegal. Finally, he stammered, "That's – that's incredibly dangerous, Hermione! Promise me you'll never do something so - so –"

"Stupid?"

Severus pressed his lips in a thin line. "I was about to say 'Gryffindor', but the same difference."

When she did not protest, Severus pulled her back into his arms. "We'll discuss that little infraction later, Miss Granger." When she did not react, he relaxed somewhat. So, not averse to the thought of punishment, then. Hastily he continued, "I apologise for interrupting you. You were saying you'd returned to the cave, and...?"

" – And? Oh! Well, I started filling one of the bottles with the memory, and then I took the Calming Draught." She looked slightly embarrassed. "Only it wasn't, was it? I misread the bottle, I'm afraid. I didn't realise until I was falling asleep on my feet that it was Dreamless Sleep! I had taken the entire bottle." She looked up at him with her large, amber eyes and Severus slumped with relief.

For the next hour, they held one another, filling in the blanks of the past hours apart and together. Severus felt almost giddy as the realization dawned that he had not destroyed his marriage. Followed closely on the heels of this epiphany was the knowledge that he had also not destroyed their sex life, their friendship, and most importantly, his wife's peace of mind.

In a particularly long silence, Severus summoned his courage to the sticking place and asked, "Hermione, do you forgive me for sending you back?"

She turned and looked at him carefully. Slowly she said, "There is nothing to forgive, Severus. Do you forgive me for insisting we embark on this," she waved her hand as if to draw it in the air, "experiment we started in the cave? I'm sorry about what happened – but for your sake, not mine." She lowered her eyes bashfully. "I loved what you did. I wanted it." She took a deep breath, and dared to look him in the eye. "I still do, if you wish to continue."

Severus felt the corners of his mouth twitch. "Again, pet, there is nothing to forgive. I was the one too concerned with protecting myself. I allowed my pride in the man I have become to overshadow the man I was; the man I am. I honestly thought that in trying to become a better man that I should erase the past."

He relaxed. "The things that happened all those years ago – they can't be erased, even if we place all the memories of them in a Pensieve. We just have to learn to live with them, as you did." He pulled his ear thoughtfully. "As I was reminded earlier this evening, I have a lot of self-recrimination to make up for."

The smile on Hermione's face was all the answer he needed. Severus kissed her forehead again, and paused to enjoy her downy skin, her soft, milky fragrance. "I have made my peace with the past." He stroked her face, brushing the last remnants of her tears away. "I can take pleasure in this, in you, in any way you desire. I too, want this to continue."

Hermione looked into his eyes, and felt her heart swell until it felt as if it would burst from her chest. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, and sighed into his mouth. "I couldn't agree more," she said, smiling.

He pulled her closer and kissed her again, his lips warm and slow, a gradual, tender pressure against her mouth, deepening by inches, until his mouth suckled against hers, and she whimpered her appreciation, allowing his soft, insistent tongue entrance.

These were not the exhilarating, suffocating kisses of a Master, but the tender, overwhelming kisses of a man making love with his mouth, his lips, his tongue; a man seducing his witch, ensnaring her with her own arousal. These kisses were just as devastating, just as mind-robbing. Hermione felt his hands thread tentatively through her hair, and she broke away from him.

Seeing the uncertainty in his face, she added hastily, "May I do something for you, sir?"

The change in his demeanor was immediate and unsettling. He seemed to grow at once darker and more solid, but the fire in his eyes sent Hermione's heart thudding hard in her chest. He tilted his head. "And what would like to do for me, little girl?" To sweeten his words, he dialed in just enough silken menace in his voice to make the saddle between her legs grow hot and wet.

Hermione smiled, and felt the invisible bond between them slip back into place. "I would like to finish what we started, which was rudely interrupted earlier."

He smiled sensuously, with just a whisker of a smirk playing about his lips. "Nothing would satisfy me more, Miss Granger." He reached for his wand and magically removed their clothing.

Hermione shivered with delight at the feel of his marble-cool skin against hers. Suddenly, the thought of wrapping her hand around his already-rigid member was maddening, like an itch she was dying to scratch. Hermione moaned, "May I touch you, sir?"

His heated gaze only served to embed the precious ache deeper into her core. His fingers found her erect nipple, waiting for him, and he moaned. "I have no will left in which to deny you, pet," he murmured. The soft desperation and relief in his voice was unbearably sweet. "Please touch me. Do whatever perverse acts you want with my body, and I'll beg you for more."

With a smile on her lips, Hermione moved against him, sliding her hands over his smooth, pale flesh, nuzzling against the warm, fragrant skin at his throat. She nipped against his neck, knowing how much he enjoyed it, knowing it would leave him moaning with longing. She urged him with soft entreaties, and soon he was looking up at her as she straddled him.

She moved languidly down his pale body, placing slow, caressing, biting kisses on his caramel-coloured nipples, his stomach, his hipbones. She paused at the tip of his cock, and placed a loving soft kiss on the tip, licking a dollop of pre-cum from her lips. Humming with appreciation, she whispered, "Tell me what you want, Master, and I will do it." She smiled and reluctantly moved away from the temptation of his rigid member, and rose to mount him.

The heat in his gaze turned molten, and the hands resting lightly on her thighs pulled at her firmly. "I want you to fuck me," he breathed, a long slow exhale of satisfaction as she hovered, poised, over his straining cock. "That's it. Ride me."

Hermione would have liked to have teased him; a gentle, playful punishment for his earlier heartless demands for patience and discipline. The truth was that she couldn't. Her desire wouldn't allow it. She had to have him, and with pure Gryffindor eagerness, she impaled herself on his raging prick in one long, deep stroke, making them both cry out into the room.

"Gods!" she moaned, gasping, riding out the urge to let her orgasm go, even as Severus hissed and bucked beneath her.

"Merlin's bollocks, girl," he swore, licking his lips. His eyes rolled back as she clenched around him. He grasped her hips. "Move on me. Do it." Hermione obeyed by rising from his slender hips, then dropping down, keeping her hips tilted back so that he could watch his shaft pulling away from her needy body. He moved with her, hissing with pleasure each time she received his sharp, upward stroke.

"Why is it that every time I fuck you it feels like the very first time I entered your silken cunt?" he growled, pouting with the exquisite pleasure of tapping against her tender cervix.

She gasped in delight with the growing intensity of each downward rock of her hips, each upward thrust of his cock. "Why is it that I'm always so wet for you, love?" She countered huskily.

He gave her a smile of pure, heated bliss. "You really are deliciously wet ... and so hot ... you could burn me to cinders and I'd still beg for the privilege." His fingers drifted to her clit and began their dance. He watched her face as it changed, grew slack with pleasure. "Oh, yes, pet, I am addicted to you."

Her hips rolled sensuously as she ground down on him. "I want this so much," she moaned, watching his face intently, watching it gradually slacken as he gave himself up to the pleasure. "Because you're my Daddy and my Master, and I want you to enjoy it, to give into it." His hips rose to meet hers, and his eyes grew darkly glazed with need. "Let go, my love," she whispered, her nails gently scoring his chest, making him shiver. "Show me how much you want it."

As she moved, Hermione reached around behind and cupped his balls in her hand, stroking his perineum as she rocked into him. He whimpered, his face growing soft and blank, as if he were releasing the moorings within himself and allowing her to take him where she chose. Hermione understood the dark power of dominance a little better when Severus opened his glowing eyes and whimpered; a look of complete, innocent abandon on his face.

Hermione smiled down at him, and reached forward ostensibly to give him access to her breasts, but in reality she retrieved a small object from her nightstand. A silent spell later and she rose back over Severus, a goddess of light, smelling of sex and need and power, and he rolled her nipples in his long fingers as he felt her reach behind and slide her slick hand beyond his perineum. She tenderly circled the ring of his anus, then slipped a small plug into his waiting hole. "Bear down," she crooned, and his eyes rolled back. A sigh of pleasure washed over her, and she leaned over to reward his mouth with her nipples again.

Severus felt the device in his rectum pressing against his prostate, and his groin was instantly flooded with the most melting, delicious pleasure he'd ever experienced. He mewled softly, "Baby ... my good girl, that's it ... that's it ..." He grasped her hips and began to buck up into her. "Oh, fuck," he moaned, his balls aching for release. He had never felt so vulnerable, or so ready.

He looked into her eyes with such feral joy Hermione could feel her skin tighten. Dark, demonic lust flushed his face, and he grew more abandoned. Hermione could feel her own climax pooling in her core, a gathering of nerve endings and emotions and the best, purest magic, and when Severus cried out, "Come, now! You must come with me, Hermione! Oh yess ... girl, please!" Hermione shattered into a million pieces, each as crystalline and perfect as she would ever be because she was one with her wizard, her man, her lover, her master, her daddy, her slave ...

She looked down at him, her face glowing with unspeakable pleasure, as she twitched and mewled her little cries with each thumping pulse of her sex. He had given her everything she wanted and now he was receiving it back a thousand fold, and it augmented him to the order of the angels. It didn't seem possible to come this hard for this long. He would surely rupture something if his cock continued its spraying, spitting dance in his beautiful wife's body. He was quivering all over, crying out desperately as he rode out the last waves of his orgasm.

Hermione collapsed against his heaving chest, gasping harshly for breath. They were both shaking, laughing, crying. The blood that finally flooded back into his body from his exhausted erection was so oxygen-deprived that for a moment Severus felt on the verge of losing consciousness. Hermione slowly slid from his body, and he pulled her to him with the fervor of a drowning man clutching a life preserver. "My good, good girl," he gasped, kissing her passionately. "My babe."

As Hermione reached under and gently removed the toy, Severus shivered and hissed. Several quick cleansing spells later, and Hermione was back in his arms, melting against him lovingly.

"That little stunt was incredibly presumptuous of you, Miss Granger," he rumbled, his voice sounding sated and sleepy. With a whispered "Nox," the room was plunged into darkness. He stifled a yawn as he added, "I can see that more time in the cave is needed. I shall have to punish you most soundly for being such a wicked girl."

In the darkness, Severus felt Hermione smile against his chest. "Thank the gods for that."

He chuckled; a low sensuous sound that even in Hermione's exhausted state had the power to make her shiver. "I shall retrieve your bracelets in the morning, pet." He grew still. "That is, if you still wish to wear them."

Hermione's grip tightened on his waist. "Very much so."

"Good," he rumbled sleepily. "But I have an idea."

"And what's that, love?"

Again the dark little chuckle vibrated in her belly. "I see we need to re-examine the consequences of your lack of patience, Miss Granger."

Words in bold are actual quotes from Deathly Hallows.