2. The Morning After

Chapter Two: The Morning After

Hermione thrashed in her sleep. Multiple incarnations of Severus Snape had taken up residence in her subconscious. The strangely wonderful flood of emotions after discovering her ex-professor's attraction toward her had resulted in a night filled with dredged up memories and odd dreams. Mostly, his face would hover in front of her, filling her field of vision with its intense, dark stare. Occasionally, odd bits would get all bollixed up and her subconscious mind would transfigure them into a sort of overly dramatic farce.

She found herself standing outside the Potions classroom in her school robes. Harry and Ron were nearby, completely absorbed in some argument involving what else but Quidditch. Malfoy and his gang, appearing no older than twelve years old, were over in a corner, smirking and glancing suspiciously in her direction. She tried to get Harry's attention to let him know Malfoy was up to something, but her two best friends were either ignoring her or had no idea she was there. An oddly familiar and unwelcome sensation drew her attention to her mouth and she noticed that her two front teeth were once again growing slowly longer and longer. Looking about, she saw everybody, including Harry and Ron, cruelly pointing and laughing. The crowd parted and Professor Snape swept past the masses to witness the debacle firsthand. He stood there arrogantly in Neville's grandmother's dress and gaudy vulture hat, his venomous expression clashing with his state of dress. To her utter dismay, Boggart Snape hissed, "I see no difference." Then suddenly, his robes caught fire and soon he was enveloped in flame. Hermione screamed and sat bolt upright in bed.

The bathroom door crashed open and Severus came flying out, wand at the ready, wearing only his pyjama bottoms and looking wildly about the room. Finally satisfying himself that they were still alone, he relaxed and strode over to Hermione who was staring at him, fear brimming in her eyes. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her shaking body to his.

"Shh," he crooned as he kissed the top of her head and smoothed comforting circles between her shoulder blades. When her breathing calmed, he held her at arms length so he could look into her eyes.

"Having bad dreams?" he teased, smiling slightly. "I hope they weren't about me."

She tore her eyes away from his and looked down. "You were on fire," she whispered.

"Fire?" he exclaimed, breaking out in laughter. "Well, my dear, I have only been on fire once and I find it highly unlikely that you had anything to do with it."

Hermione gave him a pained look. He stopped laughing.

"Hermione," he warned. His voice had taken on a tone she had never heard before, sort of incredulous and distressed at the same time. "You cannot mean..." He stopped as she slowly nodded her head. Very uncharacteristically, his mouth fell open in pure shock.

"See, you have to understand," Hermione began quickly, desperate to explain, "Harry's broom was being hexed and I saw you from across the Quidditch field mumbling something and not breaking eye contact and we thought you were the one...well, I had to do something to help Harry and it was the only thing I could think of at the time..."

She broke off suddenly as Severus pulled her into a tight embrace. His whole body was shaking with suppressed laughter. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. A first year had lit his robes on fire? And all this time he had suspected the person who had placed the hex on Potter. In fact, it had made him slightly more anxious at the time, realising how powerful that person must have been to have simultaneously thrown a curse in his direction while hexing Potter's broom.

"You thought I was the one hexing Potter? I suppose the next thing you are going to tell me is that you three also suspected me of trying to steal the stone."

He laughed even harder when he felt her shoulders tense up in admission. To Hermione's immense relief, Severus finally took a great big shuddering breath and sat back.

"Well, Miss Know-It-All," he teased, "is there anything else you would like to confess while we are reminiscing about past transgressions?"

"Erm, well, there is one small, really inconsequential thing that perhaps you should know about, just so we can begin with a clean slate and all," Hermione started a little hesitantly. "It seems that I owe you some powdered bicorn horn and shredded boomslang skin."

Severus' eyes widened at that confession. He knew exactly when those two items disappeared from his private stores. Hermione was a second year at the time. He also knew a rare few potions called for both of those ingredients in the exact amounts that went missing.

"You cannot possibly be telling me that you brewed Polyjuice Potion when you were a second year," he stared at her in pure disbelief.

"Yes, I did," she said, a little insulted at his skepticism. "We had to find out if Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin and I could think of only one way. If it's any consolation, I paid dearly for stealing those ingredients."

"Mmm. Yes, I do recall that you missed about two weeks worth of classes not too long after my stores were pilfered. I cannot imagine that you would have brewed the potion improperly. In fact, I don't remember you ever brewing a potion improperly."

Hermione beamed a little at the compliment. "Actually, the potion went quite well. It was the final ingredient that did me in. Apparently, the hair that I thought was Millicent Bulstrode's was actually those of her cat."

Severus inhaled sharply and choked. He fell back on the bed, coughing and laughing and trying to catch his breath. This girl was simply unbelievable! If he had known then what he knew now...well, he probably would not have been too amused then, that was for damn sure. But of course, he had had no interest in her when she was twelve. He had thought her an annoying little chit, to be completely honest.

"Well, my little troublemaker, it seems that I require some compensation for my missing stores then. What would you suggest?" His eyes beckoned her to him.

After watching her ex-professor and ex-tormentor fall apart in laughter at her past infractions of school rules, Hermione was left feeling a bit bold. She threw one leg over his prostrated form, straddling him. Winding her fingers up into the hair at his temples, she pulled his head back, holding it down. Then she slowly bent to meet his waiting lips, lightly brushing them with her own. He tried to raise up to meet her, to deepen the kiss, but she had his hair gripped too tightly and wouldn't relinquish control. He felt himself harden, aroused at her dominance. She kissed his jaw, then placed feather-light kisses along the vein pulsing in his neck, traveling down to his shoulder.

Severus arched his hips into her and groaned as Hermione sunk her teeth into the flesh just above his left nipple. Her tongue swirled down and around, flicking at the little peak and nipping at it gently. She alternated her sweet kisses with sharp bites as she traveled down his sensitive stomach. His erection settled comfortably within the valley between her breasts.

She sat up and pulled her tank top over her head, letting her breasts fall free. Like magnets, Severus' hands were attracted to them almost instantly. He ground his palms against her aching nipples unrelentingly as she undid his trousers. Promptly shoving them down his hips, she leaned over and kissed the tip of the engorged flesh between his legs. In one swift movement, she sucked his length into her mouth as far as it would go.

His head was spinning. The heat of her mouth was setting his brain on fire. Her lips felt like velvet as they enveloped him, sheathing his sensitive shaft with silken caresses that tightened and released in waves. He clutched in desperation at her curls, thrusting up into her mouth and groaning as her throat contracted around him, squeezing the head of his cock against the back of her throat. His heart beat harder and faster. He felt sure death was only a heartbeat away, and this most amazing woman so skillfully swallowing his cock was definitely responsible.

The sensation began somewhere deep inside and took off like a rocket, going higher and higher, trying to escape Earth's gravity. He wanted to keep going and yet at the same time he felt he could not take any more. His breath came in feverish gasps as the oxygen thinned and his mind reeled from the assault. Finally, it was all too great to bear. Stars filled his vision. His lungs were void of breath. And his body exploded into a million tiny particles of light that drifted lazily back down to Earth.

His body convulsed as her delectable tongue lapped up the remnants of his pleasure, her head finally coming to rest on his thigh. He lovingly smoothed the tangles from her hair whilst trying to calm his rampaging heartbeat and erratic breath.

A light rapping on the door roused them from their sated stupor.

"Severus?" Albus Dumbledore called from the other side.

Of course.

Sighing, Hermione tugged his pants up over his hips and carefully fastened them. She placed a reverent kiss on the object of her most recent desire. Then, ever so silently and giving Severus a most wicked smile, she tiptoed off to the bathroom and shut the door as Severus went to answer Albus' call.

Severus knew that Hermione, being the curious vixen that she was, would no doubt have her ear plastered to the other side of the bathroom door. He smirked as he opened the door to find Albus beaming at him from across the threshold.

"Ah, my dear boy, I hope I am not interrupting anything?" Albus insinuated not-so-subtly as he glanced over Severus' shoulder into the room, noticing the very rumpled bed sheets cascading to the floor. Severus' gaze followed the older wizard's and he noticed Hermione had left her lilac tank top in a heap on the floor next to the bed. Secrets never remained secret long where Albus was concerned, especially when one was so bloody apparent.

"Come in, Albus," Severus intoned as he moved to straighten up the bed, tucking Hermione's clothes surreptitiously beneath the pillow. He grimaced with the realisation that he may as well have posted a blasted howler over the bed screaming "I shagged Hermione last night!"

"I won't stay long," Albus said, clearing his throat suggestively. "I am sure you have other matters you would rather attend to."

No fucking shite. Meet Albus Dumbledore, Master of Stating the Bloody Obvious.

"No problem, Albus," Severus lied through his teeth. "What can I do for you?"

"I just stopped by to see how you were after last night. Apparently, you fared quite well." Albus looked almost pleased.

"Actually, I did not fare quite well," Severus spat sarcastically, wondering how exactly one could fare quite well at a Death Eater meeting. "I was almost killed last night. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that we failed to notice a spy in our midst, a double agent working for the Dark Lord."

Albus straightened up, slightly taken aback. "A spy at Hogwarts?" His eyes stormed over momentarily. "I should have seen that one coming."

"Yes, you should have," Severus snapped.

Feeling suddenly sorry for the old man, whom he knew was most certainly not omniscient no matter how hard he tried to make everyone believe that he was, he continued in a more subdued tone.

"I am sorry, Albus. I do not mean to take it out on you. The Dark Lord received news from this informant that differed significantly from my own. Obviously, this infiltrator is held in much higher esteem than yours truly. The Dark Lord saw fit to perform repeated bouts of the Cruciatus and left me to the other Death Eaters to finish me off. I got away before they could kill me. I haven't yet figured out how. Perhaps some sort of instinct for survival caused me to Apparate. I ended up here."

Albus let out a long breath, rather like a deflating balloon. The news certainly was deflating in more ways than one. He removed his glasses and cleaned them on the hem of his robes, contemplating what to say next. Severus had nearly died because of him. He took the time to let that small fact sink in a bit further.

Looking up, Albus' eyes skimmed across the leather book sitting on the nightstand. The twinkle found its way back into his eyes, making them sparkle. Well, that most certainly would explain how Severus seemed so fit this morning after such a night of trial and tribulation.

"And how is our dear little mediwitch this morning?" Albus quipped at the younger wizard. "I trust she has taken care of you quite satisfactorily, then?"

Damn that man. Severus could swear he heard a muffled squeal from behind the bathroom door.

"Yes, Albus," Severus muttered in defeat, "she has been more than satisfactory. Thank you for asking."

"Good, good. That is most wonderful news. Perhaps I will see you at breakfast then, Severus? And you, too, Miss Granger?" he added, turning in the direction of the bathroom door.

"Yes, Headmaster," Severus and Hermione simultaneously answered from their respective sides of the bathroom door. Albus chuckled to himself in amusement as he ambled out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Hermione emerged from the bathroom looking quite sheepish. She looked positively sexy walking around in just her silk pyjama bottoms and nothing else, her hair all tousled from sleep and sex. She looked up at him almost apologetically.

"How did he..."

"Your shirt was on the floor," he said, drawing it out from under the pillow and handing it to her. She tried to take it from him but he kept a tight hold of it and used it to pull her into a tight embrace.

"Right," she murmured. "But how did he know it was me?" she asked in defeat.

He turned her wordlessly so she could see the book she had left lying on the table next to the bed.

"Oh," was her only answer. "I suppose we should make an appearance at breakfast and get it over with then."

"That probably would be the wisest course of action," he drawled, burying his face into her hair. He drew in a deep breath, relishing the way her scent had mingled with his. Hermione squealed as he picked her up unceremoniously and carried her off to the bathroom.

He loved the way she squealed like that. A buried memory of Hermione as a student slipped from the recesses of his mind. He had snuck up behind her and her infamous friends, startling them. She had squealed nearly the same way. Of course, he had found pleasure in that squeal then but for entirely different reasons. Now, however, it only served to make him extremely hard and wanting her in a most inappropriate way.

Well, it most certainly would have been inappropriate then, but that was then and this was now. He set her down and finished undressing her. She stood before him blissfully nude, all curvy and soft and inviting.

Gazing intently into her soft brown eyes, he slowly grabbed the top button of his pants and tugged until they fell open. Then he let his pants pool to the floor and stepped out of them, pushing them to mingle with hers, lilac and black blending together in harmony.