Five

Anti-Litigation Charm: None of the characters belong to me. They belong to JK Rowling, who let my entire reason for reading the Harry Potter series bleed to death on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. I'm building a better world.

Author's Notes:

This story is a birthday gift to the great Sempraseverus, whose art has inspired so many fanfics. If you know her art, you understand completely. If you do not know her art, go to deviantArt now, and look at her stunning work, before you start.

Big hugs and kisses and a big bottle of Gewürtztraminer to my beta, stgulik, who is faster than the speed of light, and brilliant at buffing the story up to a pearly sheen. Thank you so much.

This story is about a Dominant/submissive relationship. It is not meant as an instruction manual on the lifestyle. This chapter contains explicit sexual content. It is a work of fiction and meant for entertainment purposes only. Thanks for reading - I'm always blown away by the support I receive here at TPP.

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And at first with the charm around him, mmh, yes, he loosened it so if it slipped between my breasts,

He'd rescue it, mmh, yes...

And his spark took life in my hand and, mmh, yes, I said, mmh, yes, but not yet, mmh, yes, mmh, yes...

---

That night was a turning point for Severus; it came as no surprise to me that his magic began to return shortly after. I managed to get his wand back from Kingsley Shacklebolt, and presented it to Severus one evening. He was happy, of course, but it didn't make him as overjoyed as I had thought it would. He simply tucked it away. "I've been happy without my magic," he explained with a shrug. "It's wonderful to have it back, of course, but I'm used to being without it." He smiled at me quietly. "I have everything I need."

The only thing he really enjoyed about having his magic back was his ability to tidy the house quicker. For a man who'd reveled in giving detentions involving scrubbing the vilest shit off cauldrons without the use of magic, he loved not having to do the dishes by hand anymore.

With his extra spare time, he began to brew more potions. One evening, he presented me with a little bottle, looking very pleased with himself. "This time," he said, "I have a present for you, my beloved one."

"For me?" I said, delighted. While I gave him presents at least once a week (usually in the form of a book, or a new toy or discipline implement), he was not one to give spontaneous gifts. He still ventured out in public only when I took him with me. Even now, free as he was to move about in the world, he preferred the solitude of home. He was a still, quiet soul, taking pleasure in meditation, and reading.

I held the vial up in the light. The liquid inside was a deep red, and as I tilted the bottle, I could see that it was viscous and thick. "What is it, darling boy?"

Smugly, he uncorked the vial, and held it under my nose. I sniffed. It smelled like him: patchouli and sandalwood and an underlying warm, spicy scent. I looked up at him, puzzled. "Amortentia?"

He tipped the vial and poured a tiny drop on his finger. "Actually, it's a topical lubricant." He touched my robe. "May I?" I nodded, and lifted my robe. With a smile on his beautifully shaped lips, he slid the finger between my thighs and under my knickers, circling my clit once, twice, three times, and withdrew, to my disappointment.

For a few seconds, I waited. He set the vial down as he watched my face carefully, a secret smile playing on his lips. Silkily, he drawled, "And right... about... now."

Suddenly I felt my clitoris swell. It honestly felt as if his fingers were there again, teasing and flicking. I was on fire from my waist down, and it felt incredible. The pleasure and heat blooming in my groin curled my toes and tore a groan from my throat.

My knees buckled, and Severus caught me easily, laughing and pleased as pumpkin juice at my reaction. I was crawling all over him, demanding him to finish what he'd started, which he happily obliged. I literally tore my knickers off to get him inside of me. I have never experienced anything quite like it, and with Severus, that was really saying something. He was delighted; I had never seen him so happy with a creation, and he'd invented a lot of original formulas to be proud of.

When my head cleared of the post-coital fog of euphoria his potion had induced, I demanded to know what was going on. Rather smugly, he explained, "It's a potion that enhances physical pleasure between lovers, depending on the last ingredient added. In this case," he smiled, "one drop of seminal fluid. From me."

At my puzzled expression, he added, "It can be used as a massage oil, or a lubricant or, in this case, a genital stimulant. But I've designed it to only work with those who have an emotional as well as a physical bond. When seminal fluid is added, it will affect only the wizard's partner. If the last ingredient is a drop of vaginal fluid, it will have the same effect on her lover as the male counterpart has on the female."

"So it stays in stasis until the final bodily fluid is added?" He nodded. I was gobsmacked. A kernel of an idea germinated in my mind. "How long is the shelf-life of the virgin formula?"

He tilted his head, and smiled. "Virgin formula? I like that." He pondered. "With the ingredients, I would venture to guess eighteen months to two years." He looked at me carefully. "What are you thinking? I can see the wheels turning, Miss Granger," he intoned, in an eerie imitation of the Professor Snape of my school days.

I smiled. "I just think this has amazing market value. Is it easy to create?"

"Easily enough. I thought of the implications of marketing it as well. But the virgin formula needs to be tested, to make sure the reactions are the same in other couples."

"So no one else would react the way I did to the contents of this particular bottle."

He shook his head. "No. It's is 'coded' to your responses only. Anyone else, male or female, would find it useless now. To anyone else besides yourself, it won't really smell, feel or taste very pleasant."

I was fascinated. "So, what does it taste like?" Believe me, after I finally shredded my knickers, I made sure he knew exactly what it tasted like, before he drove me into the mattress.

He grinned, and took me in his arms, nuzzling my nose with his. "It tastes like my Mistress, and that is the most delicious nectar on earth."

"Good answer." He kissed me gently. I could feel him hardening against my belly. I began to wonder what Essence of Hermione would taste like, smeared over that glorious cock of his.

That gave me another idea. "Do you have another virgin formula? I want Ginny and Harry to try it!"

A few moments later, he watched in quiet bemusement as I took the two bottles he prepared for Harry and Ginny, threw on a robe and almost ran through the Floo. I gabbled hasty instructions to the stunned couple, who took the vials and promised to let me know the results.

I returned to the house. "Ginny and Harry can't wait to try it, and - oh, Severus, I just had another thought – maybe George could add an adult line to Weasleys' Wizarding –" The room was empty. Severus was nowhere to be seen.

I ran down to the lab, thinking he was there brewing. He wasn't there, nor in the kitchen, nor in the front room. I walked up the stairs, calling him. There was no answer.

I entered our bedroom to a delicious sight. My submissive was in our bed, magically bound and blindfolded with a silk scarf. His arms were stretched over the back of the iron headboard, giving him the look of a crucified angel. He was gloriously naked, exquisitely hard, and breathing deeply, serenely. He was totally relaxed and aroused, and I could feel the residue of his little creation tweaking at my clit again.

A little vial sat beside the bed, along with two more items: the 'doppelphallus', and Ginny's paddle. Candles floated above our heads.

The room screamed sex.

"You heard me calling, but you refused to answer, my disobedient submissive." I removed my robe, and donned the dildo. I shrank it in length and girth, so that it looked like a thinner, shorter version of Severus' cock. "I think you are craving discipline. Such a wicked, pretty little boy."

"I'm sorry, Mistress," he purred, sounding anything but. "I have been very... naughty." Fucking hell, he could make the word naughty sound so filthy.

I picked up the vial. It was a light pink, and the directions attached to the label, neatly printed in his familiar handwriting, told me what to do. Using a little pipette attached to the vial, I extracted a drop of my own fluids, and squeezed the drop into the vial. The colour of the liquid instantly turned a dark, almost blood red.

"Yesss," I hissed. "Very bad, bad boy." I rubbed a few drops on the dildo, and he moaned as his own member felt the sensation.

"Whatever should I do with my naughty little submissive?" I murmured, absently stroking the phallus, making him whimper and thrash. "Should I paddle your pert little bottom?"

He groaned, and turned his head and rested it against the headboard, rewarding me with a lovely view of his angular jaw. He writhed. "Whatever my mistress wants, I want to give."

Smiling, full of the power he'd just allowed me, I grabbed the paddle, and pushing his knees up to his chest, until he was almost curled into a ball, I paddled his deliciously rounded bum until it was hot and red, and he was gasping and moaning.

"What a beautiful sight!" I breathed. "You have the most delicious little arse, Severus. Especially with your balls peeking from between your legs."

I rubbed a single drop of his potion around the delicate area of his little puckered hole, and he whimpered. Soon, he was pleading, begging me to fuck him, laughing at his own uncontrollable lust.

"Do it, please! Fuck me, Mistress," he moaned. "Merlin, I never thought the words would be coming from my lips, but please, please fuck my arse!"

I was thinking the same thing myself. "You do like to beg, don't you, my beauty?" I said, and I pushed his thighs apart and positioned myself between his legs, curving his hips forward until his bum was resting on my thighs.

I slid the dildo into his tiny, virgin hole as he panted, forcing himself to relax and yield to me. I was slow and gentle with him, and watched him carefully for signs of distress. When I was in to the hilt, I took his cock in hand, and began to gently rock in and out of him, stroking his actual cock at the same time, doubling the sensation. We quickly found our rhythm, and his face slackened and went blank with almost trance-like rapture.

Watching Severus as I pleasured him was almost as erotic as actually having him inside me. I loved sending him into this state of mind; seeing him drift into that place called subspace. It had almost nothing to do with me, yet I was totally responsible for it. It would not happen but for me.

I hooked my elbows under his knees, and muttering a spell to allow me to lift his weight, I raised his hips higher, putting more stimulation to his prostate. He shuddered and cried out as I plunged the dildo in and out of his creamy arse.

Just as he was on the verge of coming, I withdrew the dildo, and removed the harness, leaving him writhing and moaning on the bed, the muscles in his arms straining at his restraints. He shuddered and whimpered as I waited for him to calm down, then I leaned over and whispered, "You've been a very good boy, allowing me to fuck your arse."

He whimpered his thanks, still delirious with pleasure. I kissed his lips softly. "I'm going to give you a special reward for your perfect submission, my sweet one. I'm going to suck your cock now."

"Thank you," he gasped, his hips lifting in anticipation. He really was the sexiest beast on earth.

I knelt down and reverently kissed the tip of his cock, and he hissed. I crooned, "Come whenever you want, my pretty little boy. I want to feel it hit the back of my throat, my little treasure. Come in my mouth."

I took him completely, as far as I could, stroking him and sucking hard on his glorious, rigid member. The scream of total ecstasy tearing from Severus' throat made me feel like the most desired woman on earth. Seconds later, he obeyed my command to come with perfect submission, and I watched his face contort into a mask of agonising bliss that made me feel like a goddess for putting it there.

I magically released his bonds and removed the blindfold, and told him how pleased I was with him. He slid down the bed, pulling me to him, covering me with kisses. He finally collapsed, panting, exhausted.

Post-coitus, Severus Snape is the most beautiful man on earth. Long, silky lashes lay against his cheeks like brushes; his full, sensuous lips were parted and swollen from biting on them, and his body, flushed from his exertions and endorphins, glowed in the candlelight. I sat back, drenched in sweat, licking my lips and stretching my legs.

He sat up in bed and loomed over me. He growled, "My turn." His body danced over mine. And sometime in the night, I agreed to become his wife.

---

"We'll call it Topical Paradise!" George Weasley enthused at Severus and me. "I can guarantee you, sir, I am prepared to sign a three-year contract today for as many units as you can make initially, and later on, if you want to sell me the patent, I'll give you royalties in perpetuity!"

We were sitting in the twilight at the Burrow, under a magical marquis, illuminated by the light of hundreds of thousands of fairies. The wedding of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley was the event of the century, yet the two of them had decided to make it as small an affair as possible. Therefore, Severus and I were sitting at the head table with the family, as the happy couple danced and schmoozed with guests and dignitaries that had little to do with us. The wedding was almost just an excuse – the Wizarding world needed this almost as much as the Weasleys themselves - a reason to celebrate their joy.

Severus and I were the topic of great speculation. More than once I caught people whispering and gesturing our way. It made us both a little uncomfortable, but for Harry and Ginny's sake, we smiled and sipped champagne and used the wedding reception as a cover for a business meeting with George, who, through Ginny, had heard of Severus' special potion, and requested bottles for test-marketing at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes.

We initially gave him two hundred bottles. He came back in two days for an order for five thousand. Couples, apparently, were almost fighting over it. He had a back order for an additional two thousand. People weren't buying one vial of it; they were buying twenty at a time. We didn't know it at the time, but we were destined to play as large a role in the post-war baby boom as the end of the war itself.

Already, Severus was testing other variations of the formula. At first, there were the inevitable rumours of Dark Magic being used, until the ingredient list was produced. The potion was made of simple ingredients any competent Potioneer could compile – if one knew the right combination.

The lovely thing about it was that it only worked for couples who had an emotional, loving relationship. Wizards who thought it might be used as a 'magical date rape' philter soon found that, not only was the witch disinterested, but the wizard often ended up with temporary impotency. It was hilarious to George, who gleefully put a very explicit warning on each bottle, reasoning that most of the wankers out there who would attempt to abuse the potion would generally ignore the caveat anyway.

"I can tell you that for the short term, this is going to make you very rich and me even richer," George said with a boyish laugh that delighted me. There were many victims of our war, but few more heart-wrenching than George Weasley. When his twin Fred was killed in the battle of Hogwarts, it had taken the better part of a year for George to recover enough to put one foot in front of the other, and at least that long again to return to the beloved shop that he and Fred had built together.

Now the business was booming, and George, with renewed gusto, was branching out into what he called his "Wicked Wheezes," a new line of owl-order products aimed for adult witches and wizards. The line consisted of toys, potions, literature and fantasy Pensieves, and was proving very popular already. Severus' potion was right up his street.

As we looked over the contract, George winked at me. "Take all the time you need, folks. I've got orders ready to be filled, so I'd like to strike while the iron's hot, but I know you probably want to instruct a solicitor first."

To my surprise, Severus turned to George. "I don't think we need to do that, Mr. Weasley. I will be happy to sign the contract right now. With provisions."

Delighted, George nodded. "Name 'em, sir. I'll abide by them." He produced a quill and began to amend the contract.

Severus took a moment to collect his thoughts. "One: I want no mention of my name on any of the products. This is to protect your investment as much as Hermione and me."

George nodded, and scribbled away. "Yesss... right! What else?"

"Two: I like the name Topical Paradise, but I think Wicked Wheezes is a little two flippant. I want your entire line of adult items changed to - " He gave me a sideways glance. "'The Sensual World.'"

George blinked, then nodded sagely. "Classy, but sexy. Love it. Done. Anything else?"

Severus smiled. He jotted down a number on a bit of scrap parchment and gave it to George."I want the funds to be deposited directly into this account at Gringotts. This is our joint account – Hermione's and mine."

"Agreed. Joint account, eh?" He winked again, and his infectious enthusiasm warmed my heart more than I can say. "So, when's the big day for you two?" he joked, teasingly.

Severus, in the manner of old, intoned, "The twenty-first of August."

George, who'd taken a large drink of the wedding punch, spluttered and choked. "Really?" he asked, wiping punch off his chin. "You and Hermione are jumping the broom?"

I smiled at my lovely submissive. "Oh yes." Severus rewarded me by kissing my hand, his midnight eyes regarding me with warm, ripe passion. Beneath the table, I placed my hand on his crotch, and he obediently parted his thighs as my hand slipped into his robes and caressed his warm, velvety cock.

"Well then! Congratulations, sir!" George said, shaking Severus' hand, a big grin on his homely Weasley face. "I promise you our family's support!"

I made a face. "Well, except for your mum –"

"You leave Mum to me, Hermione." He gave us a devilish grin. "I can be very persuasive when I want to. Mum tends to spoil me anyway, now that I'm the lone twin." He said it blithely, but Severus and I could see the pain behind the joking.

Quietly, Severus said, "Your brother was a fine man. If I could take back those days, Mr. Weasley –"

"No, don't say it," George said, his jolly bantering gone. "All of us had to do some horrible things, sir. You were amazing, and I'll fight anyone who tries to besmirch your name in any way. My entire family feels the same." George stood and looked down at Severus. I hastily withdrew my hand and silently buttoned his robes again.

"Mr. Snape, I would be honoured if you would call me George. I'd be even more honoured if you called me 'friend'."

Severus stood and made to take the hand offered. He hesitated, and something like a sly look came over Severus' face. "I'm about to get the shite shocked out of me, aren't I, George?"

For a split second, George looked offended. His eyes began to twinkle, and he turned his hand over to reveal the Weasley Wazzle, a hand buzzer that gave the recipient a nasty shock and made their hair stand on end for an hour. "I was never able to fool you, sir."

In that moment, Severus was the Professor Snape of old, a scowl marring his face. Then his façade crumbled. Severus laughed, and those around us stopped and with abject shock written plainly on their faces, watched the Greasy Bat of the Dungeons throw back his head and really laugh. Gods, he was stunning when he laughed. Even now, he didn't do it that often, but when he did, I swear flowers bloomed and the temperature outside rose several degrees. Or perhaps I was in love.

Severus gradually stopped laughing, wiping away tears of mirth from his lovely eyes. He held out his hand imperiously, and like he'd done many a time as his student, George placed the offending Wazzle in his former professor's hand. Then the two of them really shook hands as equals.

"I think this means you'd better learn to call me Severus, George."

George beamed and clasped the hand warmly. "Be glad to, Severus. Let's have a toast. To Topical Paradise, and The Sensual World!"

Our glasses clinked just as Ginny and Harry ran over and grabbed our hands and led us out on the dance floor. As Severus and Ginny danced and chatted, Harry and I just swayed to the music and grinned at each other. "Some lifestyle, eh, Mistress Hermione?" he said, happy and laughing. I nodded. The Sensual World, indeed.

---

Epilogue

Stepping out of the page into the sensual world. Stepping out, off the page, into the sensual world.

I don't have to tell you, gentle reader, that The Sensual World Topical Paradise was a hit. I got my Happily Ever After, I got my wizard, and I got rich in the bargain. The Sensual World line was so popular that George reorganized it into its own LLP, with Severus and me as his silent co-partners. We now own a chain of shops that specialize in erotic items for the discerning witch and wizard (over seventeens only, I'm afraid, so don't ask). The best part of it is product testing. My new husband and I have time to play, and Severus has discovered his playful side in spades.

We married on the twenty-first of August. Mum and Dad Portkeyed in from Australia for the private ceremony. Severus and I spent the morning of our wedding before they arrived dashing around the house, cleaning up after our pre-wedding games night with Ginny and Harry, who, in a rather drunken moment, bet Severus he couldn't make me come as many times as Harry could make Ginny.

The ensuing competition left the house a mess, Ginny and I giggling uncontrollably, much more sore than I'd ever thought possible, incredibly sated and, at the end, a bit unsure exactly who won. I couldn't believe Severus took him up on it. I still can't believe they did it in the same room. The sight of the two dark heads buried in our laps as they pushed us through orgasm after orgasm is a memory I gleefully put in the Pensieve. It was too sexy not to keep.

Because the men could not agree on who won, it has become an annual event, and I still don't know who wins every year and I still don't give a flying fuck. Severus and I still watch the memory of the first one every year on our anniversary.

I am still Severus' Dominant, and he is still my submissive. His thoughtful, detailed journal entries became fascinating, erudite essays on the subject of Dominance/submission. With my approval, he had them published, and his books are in their fourth editions and are very popular with this growing lifestyle. Wizarding Britain is a little behind our Muggle cousins, but there are a lot of Dominant witches out there – and, British wizards being British, lots of men who love submitting.

Severus' how-to manuals are just the reference material some need to release their inhibitions and hang-ups and embrace their preferences. Severus has gotten letters saying that marriages have been saved, relationships enhanced and emotional and physical levels heretofore untapped have been discovered because of his books. I'm proud of him, and tell him so on a daily basis.

On the day before his birthday, I gave him a blank cheque. "What would you like to play, my sweet boy? Anything you want to do, we will do tomorrow." I was thinking possibly outdoor sex, wax play –

He looked at me with smoldering eyes. "I want to be the Dominant for one day."

Gulp. I wasn't betting on that one. "O-okay," I said, with more confidence than I felt. "Tomorrow, I will be your submissive, and you will be Master Severus."

"Master Severus," he purred, fingering the hem of my dress. "It has a very... powerful feel to it."

Uh oh.

I woke the next morning in bed alone, with Severus towering over me in unrelieved black: black silk shirt, black trousers, black dragon-hide boots. His hair, which was now past shoulder-length, was freshly washed and hung like a horse's mane down his back. He was dangling a riding crop in his long fingers. You could have drowned in my knickers at that moment.

Oh, the games that man played with me that day. It seems he'd made a bet with himself regarding how many orgasms he could give me. He was a very firm but fair Master, and I knelt as humbly as possible, and when I accidentally on purpose disobeyed him, he dictated his punishment without rancor or anger.

Instead, he sat on our sofa and patted his lap invitingly. "Come now, little one. Lie across my lap." He stroked the riding crop absently, and gave me a look that almost made my nipples scorch holes in my bra. "Come and take your punishment like a good little girl."

Can I just say that hearing Severus baby-talk and call me his good little girl meant I practically had to crawl into his lap; my knees weren't working too well by then. When I draped myself over his lap, he pulled me toward him with his left arm, scooping me in place. I started panting when he lifted my robe and hummed in pleasure. "Such a sweet little bottom to spank. Such a naughty little witch."

I wish I could adequately describe the feeling of Severus' large, warm hands, rather roughly yanking my knickers down my thighs, and unhooking them from my feet. If I could, I'd write erotic literature so good the pages would burst into flames.

I heard him chuckle as he pulled my underwear from my legs and sniffed them appreciatively. For some reason, my face burned, especially when I turned in time to see him lick the crotch and moan as if sampling the sweetest candy. He looked down at me with what I call his 'Professor's smirk.' His voice was the sound of a velvet tongue flicking over a taut nipple. "Hmmm. Pure honey, my sweetness. And so wet. What a bad little girl, to get all wet for teacher."

Oh, gods, that did it. If I wasn't sure my heart had transferred itself into my crotch, I was damn sure it was now. I could feel it pounding in my clitoris. I'd never really considered acting out detention fantasies before, but you can bet Severus' sweet arse I was going to now.

He spanked me with his hand seven or eight times, and he didn't hold back on any of them. Would you like to know what he did then, this Slytherin king, with his long, sensitive fingers and a wickedly sensuous voice? Exactly what you'd imagine, and when those lovely fingers danced over my slippery clit and I cried and pleaded for release, he purred, "Oh yes, you're going to beg for me, aren't you, my pet? That's it, little one...such a good, good girl... come for me... oh, that's my sweet little peach... come for me..."

I came like the Hogwarts Express on a deadline; head flung back, screaming in ecstasy, deaf, dumb and blind to everything but those stroking, plucking fingers, that silken, sinful baritone voice commanding me to come for him.

I had to be carried into our bedroom because I completely passed out cold. Later that day, when he told me to get down on my knees and worship his cock, oh fuck yes, he knew he'd been worshiped. We celebrated Severus' birthday in style, and I confess, I loved every minute of it, and vowed that, on my birthday, this would be my blank cheque to myself.

He later admitted that, while he loved talking dirty and spanking me, in reality, the idea of Dominating me felt uncomfortable, like a ill-fitting suit. The overall feeling was that the playful part of it was fun, but the reality of it was that he didn't feel he had the mindset to be a true Dominant.

Enfolding me in his arms at the end of the day, he said, "I think I'll leave the Dominance up to you, my lovely one. If life has taught me anything, it's that I'm no good making the big decisions." He kissed my forehead, and tipped my head back so that I could see his face. "Furthermore, I'm proud to remain your submissive for the rest of my life. I love you, Mistress."

I made him shift downward, until he was lying in my arms, and I began the evening ritual we started on our wedding night. It started out of my love for his melodic, deep mesmerising voice. It was nothing planned, nothing rehearsed; just words that flowed from us then, and every night since. We recited it right before sleep took us, and it became as soothing and necessary as a bedtime story.

"To whom do you belong, Severus?"

His sweet words flowed from his lips like the chocolate. "I belong to you, Mistress. Hermione Granger-Snape. The goddess I worship."

"Who are you, Severus?"

"I am your love, your light, your most prized treasure. I am your child, your lover, your father, your husband. I am beautiful, because you have made me believe I am."

"And who am I, Severus?"

He always smiled when he said these words, and they always caused tears to well in my eyes. "You are a little girl I'm responsible for. You are a goddess that saved me from myself. You are my treasure, my hope, my happiness." He kissed me gently, then passionately. "You are the owner of my heart, mind, body and soul. I am lost without your love."

I returned his kiss. "Then you will always know your way, my pretty, precious boy. I love you more than breath."

---

Am I happy? I have a handsome husband who literally worships me, and I can make him come almost on command. He is maddeningly passionate, insatiable in bed, and will do anything to make me happy. When he looks at me with those smoldering, flashing dark eyes, he knows he can pretty much bring me to my knees. He can keep me there with a softly spoken word and the feel of his warm lips touching my forehead. And when he holds me at night, I can allow myself to become a baby in his arms, and I feel safe and warm and protected.

Is Severus happy? I can only tell you this: Each morning, I look at him across the breakfast table. I see a rather grouchy, disheveled man with oily, tangled hair, a scruffy overnight beard, dressed in an old grey nightshirt, drinking cup after cup of tea to jumpstart his brain. Severus is not a morning person.

If it is my day to make breakfast, I place his morning meal of toast, juice, bacon and two eggs, sunny side up, in front of him, and kiss his slightly shiny forehead. He looks up at me with bleary eyes. It is the same breakfast every day. Grumpy Severus likes routine. After ten a.m. he's more than willing to be adventurous. The aroma of the bacon reaches his large, sensitive nostrils, and he breathes in appreciatively. His entire body lifts, and his eyes close.

When they open again, he is Severus Granger-Snape, cool, calm and happy, and he greets me with a soft smile and returns my kiss before rumbling, "Thank you, Mistress." He digs in, eating with relish and enjoyment, and by the time the juice is drunk and the eggs are mopped up with the toast and the bacon is devoured, he is bounding up the stairs and into the shower, ready to get the day started.

Moments later, a particular sound comes from behind the bathroom door. The first time I heard it, I went flying up the stairs, thinking something was wrong. It was so foreign, so strange, I was sure my ears were playing tricks on me. But no.

It is Severus, in the shower. Singing.

"When I wake up in the morning love, and the sun light hurts my eyes

And something without warning love, bears heavy on my mind.

Then I look at you and the world's alright with me, just one look at you and I know it's gonna be -

A lovely day - lovely day..."

As I say, he craves routine. This is one of my favourites in his repertoire of routines. My routine is to slip off my bathrobe and enter his warm, wet embrace, and as he slides his beautiful, large soapy hands over my breasts, we sing the last verse together.

"When the day that lies ahead of me seems impossible to face

And someone else instead of me always seems to know the way

Then I look at you and the world's alright with me, just one look at you and I know it's gonna be -

A lovely day..."

If I can make Severus Granger-Snape sing, I know he's happy. And so am I.

~FIN~

March 3, 2011

For Sempra

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Thank you, Dahlra