Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer: They all belong to JKR. Not me.

Chapter Eleven

Severus tried once again to muster the necessary physical fortitude to do a little marking, but his splitting headache and desire to empty the contents of his stomach returned with a vengeance whenever he moved from his chair. Concentrating instead on the memory of the taste of Hermione's nipples, he relaxed back into the cushions. For a few blissful minutes, his imagination blocked any physical discomfort. Then he had a sudden flash of insight, lurched forward, and vomited all over his boots.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! It was real! She'll never forgive me for taking advantage of her while she was under the influence. I'm supposed to be her senior colleague, someone she can trust. How can I face her now?

Even without the hangover from hell, Severus Snape was a little too socially inept to have understood the message behind the soft-as-velvet blanket and the Hangover potion.

Unable to avoid appearing for breakfast on Monday morning, Severus delayed his arrival until the last minute, hoping Hermione would be seated with her female colleagues. Too late, he realised there was only one chair free, right beside the woman whose nipples he had become closely acquainted with two nights earlier.

"Good morning." Her expression gave nothing away, but at least it wasn't wands at fifty paces.

"Good morning, Granger." Avoid the topic. Avoid the topic. Avoid the topic. "Anything tasty to nipple... I mean nibble on this morning?" Bollocks!

He deserved more than an amused snort.

"Just the usual. Scrambled or fried eggs, bacon, beans, cereal, and toast... or a bit of crumpet."

His eyes widened and his pants tightened simultaneously, leaving his brain thoroughly confused. "Crumpet?"

"Yes. You know, hot, buttered crumpets? Like this one." She waved a crumpet in front of his face. "Want a bit?"

Gods, yes. "No, thank you. Toast will be fine."

"Your loss. They're delicious. Especially with honey drizzled over them."

He crossed his legs and thought of Albus Dumbledore in his underwear.

It didn't help.

Severus squirmed in his seat, unable to take his eyes off Hermione, who seemed unaware of the sweet torment she was creating. The way her index finger caressed the length of her knife as she conversed with Minerva and her tongue darted to lick the droplets of cream from her porridge spoon was bad enough, but when she picked up her sausage in her fingers and captured the end between her lips he almost exploded on the spot.

"Shouldn't you cut that up first?" His voice was a little strained, but she was too busy enjoying her sausage to notice.

"Mmm, pardon? Oh, sorry, I know it's a piggy habit, but it's the way I've always eaten them. What's wrong, Snape? You look... uncomfortable." Hermione took a deep breath and pushed her plate away. "Look, if it's about Saturday night, can't we just put the whole debacle down to too much alcohol and move on?"

She wants to forget it? The most promising evening of my life, and I'm to forget it? I suppose I should be grateful she hasn't hauled me up to Minerva's office, but I'll never forget those nipples. Time for damage control. "I think that's wise, Granger. Actions taken under the influence of alcohol should be taken in context. Neither of us were fully in control of our own behaviour." There, that should do it.

"Speak for yourself, Severus Snape."

Not many things had ever rendered Severus speechless, but Hermione's barely audible reply as she left the staff table ranked among the most successful.

Oh, for Merlin's sake! What does the woman mean? Why can't she act like the brash Gryffindor she once was and either hex my balls off for being drunk enough to take liberties with her person and then pass out on the job or leap at me from a dark corner and let her nipples have their wicked way with me?

Standing gingerly, Severus made his way from the Great Hall and into the corridor. Checking no stray students or professors were in sight, he drew his wand and pointed it at his crotch. With a sigh of relief, he began the trek down to the dungeons, able to walk more comfortably after Banishing his trousers and underwear. There was definitely something to be said for the traditional mode of dress, and his robes were voluminous enough to conceal the erection he had no time to deal with before his first class. Hopefully, Nigel Featherby, this year's prime candidate for the Longbottom Melted Cauldron Award, would serve as a good substitute for a cold shower. Failing that, there was always the Prefects' bathroom and his favourite towel later in the day.

Seven hours, twenty-two minutes, and forty-five seconds later, Severus slammed the door of his office and unbuttoned his robes with trembling fingers. Allowing them to slide to the floor unheeded, he threw his shirt at a nearby table and dropped, naked, into the armchair.

He had deemed the Prefects' bathroom out of the question as his imagination made questionable side trips throughout the day into images of rosy nipples, moist heat, and bushy curls. It was simply too far away. His armchair was closer, comfortable, and apparently more private.

Running a finger over his not-quite-jutting but respectably firm penis, Severus closed his eyes and tried to summon his new favourite fantasy. Hermione had just straddled his lap, nipples bobbing within reach of his tongue, and was slowly grinding herself against him when he felt a slight draught. Lifting one eyelid reluctantly, he surveyed the room, and finding nothing out of the ordinary, continued stroking himself slowly.

As his imaginary lover, now conveniently naked, slid off his lap and parted his thighs with a wicked smile, he cupped his sac with his other hand and squeezed. Her lips were divine as they closed around his shaft, wet and urgent. Well, he assumed they would be, having never experienced such an encounter outside of his head.

Severus's mouth curved into a smile as his fist increased its pace.

"Do you need some assistance there, Severus?"

Holy fuck! What's she doing over there... here? Severus's eyes widened as Hermione walked across the room towards him.

"Do you never knock, Granger?" That's right, play it cool. She seems to like watching, after all. Resuming his activity at a somewhat slower pace, Severus was rewarded with a definite low moan.

"I may never knock again if this is the result." She had inched closer, eyes never leaving his hand and its rhythmic movement.

"What do you want, woman? Can't you see I'm busy?"

She lowered herself to the floor between his knees with a hungry expression.

By the time he had finished reciting the twenty-one ways to pickle toad livers, Hermione had brushed his hands aside and replaced them with her own. Severus could have sworn he had died and gone to heaven.

Until he felt real lips surround his cock and engulf him in their heat.

"Bloody fucking buggering shite!" Severus discovered too late his ability to form coherent sentences was a little impaired while he was in the throes of orgasm. In retrospect, he should have kept his mouth shut.

"Severus? Severus! Don't you dare pass out on me again, you wanker!"

Severus's eyes drifted open to find Hermione magnificent in her ire. "What?"

"Don't you 'what' me, prat. How dare you go to sleep after damn near drowning me? You could have warned me you were about to come!"

Warn her? Was I supposed to do that? No-one bloody told me. Besides, she started it. "I... you... dammit, I didn't know!"

Hermione's scowl was more amusing than terrifying. "All right, I accept you may not know the etiquette for receiving fellatio, but surely even you know it's not the done thing to fall asleep before ensuring your partner's satisfaction. Ron, I could understand, but you, Severus?"

He wasn't entirely sure whether it was the comparison to Weasley, her expression of disappointment, or the fact she was using his first name again, but his pride insisted he prove himself. Rising to his feet despite still feeling somewhat weak at the knees from his mind-blowing orgasm a few minutes earlier, Severus finally came up with socially acceptable response. Or at least one a woman who had become inured to his biting tongue and turn of phrase could interpret as such.

"Shite. You know I've never bloody done this before, Hermione. It's not as if Filius, Hagrid, and I ever sat around at the Three Broomsticks discussing our conquests. Can you blame me for losing control when you ambushed me like that?" He groaned and looked down. "Gods, I'm getting hard again just thinking about it."

Her frown morphed into a delighted grin. "That good?"

"Fucking fantastic. I never knew what all the fuss was about before."

"It's seems your education has been sorely lacking, Severus. And I think I know just how to remedy that." Taking him by the most prominent part of his anatomy, and nearly unmanning him yet again, Hermione led him into his bedroom, shedding her robes as she went.

A/N: This was written for the SSHG Exchange 2012 on LiveJournal. Many thanks to my wonderful beta, karelia.