Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: Not mine, alas.

Chapter Ten

Hermione stood outside Severus’s door and shook her head. She could have sworn he’d been enjoying that massage and had been about to suggest he turn over, mainly so she could find out whether he had really been enjoying himself, when he had gasped and groaned out loud, calling an end to the proceedings.

Dammit. I was so close this time. The man's impossible to read.

Muttering to herself as she walked back to her room was probably not the most dignified activity, but by the time she had reached her door, Hermione had mentally surveyed her to-do list and decided on her next step. It was time to call in the reinforcements.

The next morning she slipped up to the headmistress's office before breakfast.

"Good morning, Hermione. What can I help you with on this bonny day?" Minerva was always disgustingly hearty in the mornings; the black clouds looming over the mountains beyond the lake were a mere detail.

Hermione chuckled to herself at the garish red, green and purple robes Minerva wore. It was certainly not the traditional tartan she used to wear as Transfiguration mistress. I wonder whether there's something in the air up here that addles their colour sense. Pity Severus wasn't in office for longer. He could do with branching out from black, black and... black. Unless it's a black silk blindfold and nothing else...

"Hermione?"

"Oh, sorry. I was thinking about... never mind." Her fiery cheeks were a dead giveaway.

"No luck then?"

"No. I was wondering about that whiskey..."

"Say no more, girl. I'll fetch it for you right now." Minerva swept back into her sitting room and returned in short order, bearing a bottle of the amber liquid. "Now, don't overdo it, dear. I'd hate for you to repeat this, but Severus is a bit of a lightweight with the good stuff. If you want any sort of fun, it wouldn't do to let him have more than a glass or two."

Minerva McGonagall attempting a smirk was really not a comforting sight at that hour of the morning. Hermione offered her thanks and left, hiding the bottle in her robes for fear any passing students thought she had succumbed to the evils of liquor. Lust was really quite enough of a burden.

"You're back. What have you come to plague me with now, woman? Pestilence? Fire? Locusts?" He waved her in regardless.

She brandished the bottle. "Whiskey!"

"About time you started talking sense. Well, don't just stand there. Hand it over!" Summoning a pair of glasses, Severus poured a generous helping and passed Hermione hers. "Bottoms up!"

The first swallow burned a fire right down to her toes, but by the second glass, Hermione was feeling warm all over. And rather amorous. She'd also completely forgotten Minerva's warning about Severus and alcohol.

"Pour us another one, Sev." She perched on the arm of his chair to better supervise the pouring. "Oi! You got more than I did; fill it up."

"Lean over a bit more." Severus rested his cheek against her strategically placed breasts and sighed. "Do you know you have smashing tits, Granger?"

"I thought they were too small for your taste." She patted his head as he nuzzled further.

"Beggars can't be choosers." He downed the rest of his glass and reached for the bottle. "Your nipples are as hard as hell. Intereshting." Confirming his finding with his free hand, Severus continued drinking.

It's working! Oh, Merlin, that feels good. Sliding sideways, Hermione landed in his lap, right on top of his rigid cock. "I see you're ready for action."

"Action? I sheem to have a hard-on. Can't exshercise with one of them." Severus beamed down her cleavage. "Lovely, jusht lovely. Here, have another."

"Don't mind if I do. It’s good stuff. Hey, stop spilling it down my chest!"

"Sh'okay. I'll clean it off." Lifting her bodily to straddle his lap, Severus proceeded to thoroughly do so.

With his tongue.

Removing her blouse was essential to proper cleanliness, of course.

Feeling somewhat smug over her earlier decision not to wear a bra despite the slight wooziness the combination of whiskey and Severus licking her nipples had produced, Hermione tugged at his hair until he lifted his head.

“Ouch! Ceash and deshist, wench. I wash busy.” He stopped complaining when her lips found his, tasting the whiskey and desire on his tongue.

Hermione moaned her pleasure into his mouth as her hips set up a rhythm of their own, finding size really didn’t matter if one’s positioning was accurate. Removing more clothing was definitely the next step. Plan C was coming along nicely.

“Severus. I think we need to take this to the bedroom. Sev?” A distinct softening beneath her just as she was congratulating herself on a game well played alerted her to a slight problem. A stuttering snore confirmed the diagnosis.

Severus Snape was out for the count.

And drooling.

Minerva wasn’t joking. He is a bloody lightweight. Does have a talented tongue though. Probably comes from all that exercise tearing strips off his students. I wonder if he knows anything about cunnilingus. Probably thinks it’s some new spell. Foolish wand-waving, he’d call it.

I’ll wave his wand any time he likes.

With a sigh, she climbed off his lap, taking a moment to pat the slight bulge remaining. A wordless Accio summoned a vial of Hangover Potion to leave beside his chair, and a clever Transfiguration created a soft blanket from a nearby cushion. Buttoning her blouse over her still sensitive breasts, she left the Potions professor to sleep it off.

By the next morning, Hermione’s confidence had faded with her whiskey-induced haze. Half-convinced his actions the previous evening had been purely alcohol fuelled, she avoided breakfast and hid in her room all day while she tried to make sense of his actions.

He hasn’t come looking for me. That proves it. He probably can’t even remember last night, and if he does, he’ll be mortified. Why did I let him drink so much? But maybe he’s just as embarrassed as I am. I wish I could just see his face.

She couldn’t possibly know Severus had flung his arms out as he woke and knocked his last vial of Hangover Potion to the stone floor. As brewing more would have taken far more concentration than a man in his condition possessed, he had sulked in his rooms all day trying to decide whether he really had sucked Hermione’s nipples while she had ridden his cock through their clothes like a top notch broom or whether it was a delusional fantasy brought on by too much alcohol.

A/N: This was written for the 2012 SSHG Exchange. Karelia looked out for stray commas and did a damned fine job!