Chapter Fifteen - Where Rest Can Never Dwell, Hope Never Comes (Part 1)

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JKR and/or Daniel Knauf. I do not profit from writing this story.

Author's Notes: Story beta'ed by the incredibly brilliant melusin.

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Four days.

That was the last time she had seen Severus.

Saturday morning, four days ago.

As her Tuesday classes came to a close, Hermione attempted to feign amusement since all of her friends vastly enjoyed the Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Given the professor of this class, this was very, very challenging.

"... turning to page 241, you will find the many uses of bewitched sleep as a safeguard against..."

Where could Severus be? Was he in trouble? Was he hurt? Professor McGonagall didn't know how long she was going to continue substituting for his class. Severus had never missed lessons before. Hermione knew that he must be away on business for either the Headmaster or Voldemort ... possibly both.

"... read silently before we begin the practical application of..."

Hermione anxiously wanted to know if he was all right.

She had never felt this way before ... for any male ... and it was truly beginning to unsettle her mind. Whereas other females in her year welcomed the idea of losing themselves in the distracting bliss of breathtaking ardor, the idea that she could allow herself to be such a victim had never seemed possible. She could never compare her love life to that of, say, Ginny or Lavender. Both girls were younger than her, yet they already possessed multiple notches on their bedposts.

Hermione had never been the type of female who used old quills to scratch the name of her lover into the soft wood of the students' desks. It had always seemed so silly, so juvenile. But thinking this didn't change the direction of her thoughts.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, Hermione tried to tease herself. She snorted. The phrase was beginning to ring true.

She had witnessed what Severus could look like returning from Voldemort and the Death Eaters back at number twelve, Grimmauld place. He had bled before her very eyes as he dispassionately chided Minerva's attentive concern. How was she to know that he wasn't doing the same all over again? Except... alone.

"Finnigan!" Sirius roared.

Hermione snapped out of her distracting thoughts, focusing on the object of Sirius' unexpected irritation. Seated in the desk directly in front of Harry, Seamus' head was face down on his book, mouth wide open as he snored obnoxiously.

The class tittered in amusement.

"Quieten down!" Sirius barked. He stormed to the front of Seamus' seat. "Finnigan, wake up!"

Seamus' only reply was an even louder snore, followed by a heavy thud. Dean Thomas' upper torso had fallen against his desk before he'd fluidly slipped out of his seat and onto the floor.

"What the hell? If this is some sort of prank..."

"Professor," Hermione called fearfully, gazing around. Every student on her side of the classroom was falling limply in their seats. Expressions of contentment on their faces, it was evident that they were all sleeping!

Hermione turned to the rows of student desks on the opposite side of the room. Meeting a few terrified glances, her eyes lowered, grasping the curious state of the friend by her side.

Harry's head was down, oblivious to the scene developing around him. His eyes moved feverishly, swallowing up the text, as per his habit in wanting to absorb everything the subject offered.

"Harry," Hermione called loudly to him. When he failed to respond, she reached towards him, yanking the book away from his sight. "Harry, for Heaven's sake, stop reading!"

He flinched at the sudden movement before sending her a puzzled look.

"No way," Ron whispered dumbly as the unresponsive students slowly twitched as they awoke. "Harry... did you do that?" He finished his question by wildly waving at the classroom.

Harry was silent a second, allowing himself to comprehend what had happened.

"How could I?" His face grew warm at the scared looks the other students sent him. "I was reading to myself; I never said a single word aloud!"

Hermione glanced down at his book in her hands. It was open at the practical application of bewitched sleep ... a full three pages ahead of her own reading capabilities.

"Being able to perform this on one person is difficult enough... but half the classroom, using non-verbal magic and no wand... "

She knew Harry would hate to see the look of awe on her face, but this was truly extraordinary, and she couldn't help it.

Harry's expression soured. He scowled at the classroom, daring the other students to continue gawking at him.

"Yes, well," Sirius said uncomfortably. "No harm done. Settle yourselves back into your seats and continue reading."

*** *** ***

Harry's stomach growled angrily as he marched through the seventh floor corridor. News of the incident in Defense class had swept the castle, preventing him from enjoying dinner. Moments ago, as he paused by the doors to the Great Hall, Harry had made up his mind to avoid the meddlesome glances he knew he would receive. But as he silently stood against the massive polished wood, he noticed that the Headmaster was not present at dinner, either.

He hated being viewed as the Hogwarts' oddity and thought that the only person who might be able to give him a proper explanation as to what had happened in class would be Dumbledore. The moment this thought crossed his mind, Harry turned on his heel and treaded back up the marble staircase.

As he approached the stone Gargoyle, the winding stairs were already moving, but they were turning down instead of up.

"Good evening, Harry," Professor McGonagall said warmly, stepping away from the winding stairs.

"Hello," he replied politely. "Have you just been to see the Headmaster? I would like to speak to him."

Professor McGonagall attempted to smile, but her lips thinned into a pitiful grimace.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but the Headmaster isn't much up for visitors today."

"Why?" he asked torpidly. "Is he all right?"

Minerva shook her head sensitively. "Just weak. His years are catching up with him, that's all. He could not find the strength or the desire to remain out of bed too long. He's sleeping at the moment. I'm sure he'll be up for visitors in the morning."

And with that, Minerva sympathetically reached up to pat Harry on the shoulder before walking down the corridor. At a loss for an appropriate reaction, Harry silently watched her retreating back.

The Headmaster... sick?

Scowling to himself, Harry turned from the base of the winding stairs towards the direction of the Gryffindor common room.

The very idea, the image, of Dumbledore being too tired to move turned Harry's stomach. His condition was not improving. If anything, this was evidence of his eventual...

No, not yet.

Fisting his hands into his pockets, Harry was relieved to find the common room empty. Everyone was still in the Great Hall, enjoying the evening meal. In an effort to further seclude himself from the prying glances of his fellow students, Harry marched up the boys' Dormitory stairs.

Once inside his room, Harry paced in front of the foot of his bed. Frustrated, he fought the urge to kick his trunk. Finally calling defeat, Harry allowed his body to limply sit on top of it.

"Are you okay?" a feminine voice asked timidly.

Harry dropped his head. He was far too frustrated and physically tired to deal with this right now. "You followed me?"

"And if I did," Lavender stated defensively.

Harry steadily tilted his head toward his bedroom door.

What the hell was she thinking, following him up here ... into his room? "Why would you?" he challenged. He knew that if he wanted to avoid a row, then he had better control the irritation in his voice, but it had been a long day.

Lavender nervously scratched the corner of her mouth. It smeared her pink lip gloss onto her upper lip, but Harry wasn't sure if he should tell her. Secretly, he wished she wasn't wearing lip gloss. It tasted bitter and chalky.

She flipped her hair off her shoulder. Her feet shifted, unsure if she should remain in the doorway or invite herself completely in. "I wouldn't have to go out of my way to find you if you didn't go out of your way to avoid me!"

Harry guiltily glanced at the floor. His shoulders hunched as he uneasily ruffled his unkempt hair. He knew her accusation to be true.

"Look, Lavender, about..."

"Oh, shut up, Harry," she said softly.

His head raised in bewilderment.

"I really didn't come all the way up here to argue. You looked like you needed someone to talk to, and I know you're not one to go out of your way for it."

"Yeah, well, I don't need to talk about anything."

Frowning slightly, Lavender leaned her body weight against the doorframe. She didn't want to intrude any further than she already had, but she wasn't going to leave unless he specifically asked her.

"Um... can I come in?"

Glancing shyly at the floor, Lavender slowly lifted her eyes. She knowingly smiled at him.

Tell her no.

"Uh... yeah." Lifting himself off his trunk, Harry pushed himself back to sit on his bed.

*** *** ***

Pansy threw her robes over a chair and crawled into the bed possessing her tired lover. His body already weak from his approaching Transformation tomorrow, Remus had left the door to the hotel room unlocked.

Remus' hands instantly came around her, holding her back against his chest. His hands trailed down the side of her body before stopping by her thigh. He fingered the hem of her skirt.

"You're wearing your school uniform," he announced flatly.

Pansy merely hummed in acknowledgement.

"You know I don't like it."

"You're not one for kink, are you, Professor?" Pansy teased. She knew he couldn't help the guilt he felt at times for sleeping with a student.

Remus yanked the covers off her, sighing in frustration. "Pansy," he said warningly.

Grunting in defeat, Pansy lifted herself off the mattress, removing any and all clothing until she was left in her bra and knickers. "I think you just use that as an excuse to get me naked faster."

When Pansy lay back down on the bed, Remus did not immediately respond. Because of this, she knew that her comment had offended him. He was so quick to show and give her his love that he could be irrationally sensitive to everything she said or did.

"What do you mean?" he asked slowly.

Pansy's heart dropped. She recognized that miserable tone of voice.

"I didn't mean anything." Pansy tried to snuggle against him, but his body tensed at the contact.

"Then why did you say that?"

"I was trying to be humorous," she sighed.

"You didn't laugh."

"Remus!"

He turned his face into his pillow, closing his eyes.

"Please," she begged. "I don't want to argue. I wasn't insinuating anything. I know you love me. I know you would never use me for sex."

"I wouldn't be able to tell by the way you speak to me."

"I didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry," she said wretchedly.

Finally forgiving her, due to the despondency in her voice, Remus' arms returned to clutch her waist.

Sighing in relief, Pansy snuggled against him. She rubbed her bum into his lap. Remus stilled her with his hands.

Whimpering in mock disappointment, Pansy gyrated harder.

"Don't," he scolded. "Not like this."

Pansy leaned her neck back, kissing him on the jaw. But Remus pulled his face away from her.

"Turn around, Pansy. Face me. I enjoy looking you in the eye."

"We've never done it like this," she whispered. Remus tensed when she rubbed her bum against him again. In a playful tone, she said, "Don't pretend like you don't want to bugger..."

"I don't." Remus lifted his arms, pushing himself away from her until he was on the far side of the bed.

Her throat prickled as she tried not to get emotional. She didn't want to argue with him, she just wanted Remus to hold her. Confused, Pansy turned around to eye his bare back.

She paused in thought before reaching toward him.

If she was ever asked how she came to fancy this man, she would admit it had started with his back. How many times had she gradually woken up in the morning with this expanse of flesh before her very eyes? His back was a mystery to her: so many scrapes, so many scars... each of them a different pattern and a different depth.

Pansy had never seen Remus transform before. But if she could call this man her lover, then she felt at some point, she should. Regardless of the many reservations she'd first had at allowing her heart to be completely surrendered to someone else's control, she finally believed that if she could give Remus that control then she also wanted everything about him.

Including the beast.

Out of habit, she reached toward him, hands trailing along the scars littering his flesh. The pad of her middle finger probed the half-circled patterns embedded on both of his shoulders.

"What are these?" she asked softly.

"Bite marks," his muffled voice spoke against his pillow.

She delicately paused before continuing. "You got them when you were bitten, didn't you?"

Remus shrugged her hands off his shoulder. "Define, 'bitten'?" he spat disgustingly.

Pansy yanked her hand back, caught off guard by his sudden change in emotion.

"When... you know... you were made into a werewolf..." she nervously stammered, biting her thumb.

Remus jerked his head off the pillow. Turning his face toward the ceiling, he looked at her through the corner of his eye. "The werewolf who inflicted me made them, but not the night I was bitten," he spat quickly. His eyes bored into her, daring her to ask any more questions.

Pansy did want him to clarify further, but the fear in her expression told him that she was finally putting all the pieces together. She quickly kissed him on the cheek to show that she wasn't disgusted, even if he was.

"Remus..." she cooed. Her hands moved from his bite marks to his face, stroking him with the affection that her voice had always been unable to express.

Closing his eyes, Remus sighed desperately. He turned toward her, placing his head on her chest. He hummed sleepily at the feel of her scratching his scalp. He was weak, so Pansy wasn't surprised at how quickly his body heavily rested against her.

Kissing his forehead, she softly attempted to adjust her legs into a more comfortable position, entwining them with his. But she wasn't tired enough for sleep.

Pansy rested there for some time, holding Remus as he slept. She didn't want to dwell on their conversation, but his comments worried, saddened, and warmed her at the same time.

Was it normal for her heart to soften a little more at the idea that he had been hurt as well? It might be normal, but was it healthy? She didn't know the details, but she had a fairly clear idea what had happened to him.

She had always assumed that the beast had been the one to receive these wounds, not her Remus.

*** *** ***

He wasn't doing this, Harry scolded himself.

And yet, he continued to steadily thrust his hips. His hands uncertainly fisted against his duvet before he thought better of it.

Harry knew he shouldn't be allowing this. He groaned loudly... blindly reaching his hand across his mattress, searching for his discarded trousers.

Maybe that's why he was enjoying it. Gods, how he was enjoying it.

Harry was completely aware that he should have told Lavender to leave his room. What good could have come from allowing her to sit beside him on his bed? To talk?

Finally grasping his wand, he flicked his wrist, and the curtains of his four-poster pulled around his bed.

He was a fucking idiot.

Thinking this, Harry waved his wrist one more time, casting a Silencing Charm on his bed.

Harry threw his head back onto the pillow, closing his eyes at the feel of the naked female on top of him, pounding her wet center onto his cock.

Seconds before he was about to come, he hissed at the familiar tightening in his bollocks.

His mouth fell open. "Ginny!"

*** *** ***

Sirius was sick of Hermione avoiding his eye.

He punched his pillow crossly as he tossed and turned in his bed.

She used to smile at him. Sometimes, now, her delicate eyebrows would pinch in annoyance at his continued adoring glances.

Yes, he remembered those smiles clearly, years ago. He didn't want to admit it, but even though she had only been fourteen... maybe fifteen years old, his groin had throbbed at the sight of them. She would laugh and giggle, placing the back of her hand against her lips so she wouldn't alarm and anger Molly. This happened regularly at number twelve, Grimmauld place.

That has seemed like a full lifetime ago.

"It was a lifetime ago," said a voice that did not originate in his own head. He chose to ignore it.

But since Saturday, since he had... talked to her, she had completely refused to meet his eye. Was she angry with him? Afraid of him?

No, she couldn't be. Since Saturday, he had asked her to stay after class, and she had always done as she was told. When he attempted to speak to her in the corridors, she would smile and appear genuinely intrigued as to what he had to say.

Sirius regretted letting his anger get the better of him in front of Hermione like that. He truly didn't want to hurt her. He just wanted her to understand. If only he could make her understand.

Yes, he would make her understand.

"She never will," that raspy, feminine voice chided.

Moaning in agony, Sirius recognized that dreaded voice as the loud, rushing wind suddenly whipped around him. Gasping, his stomach pulled away as his body began the endless plummet down the rock pit.

He moaned sadly, tears springing to the corner of his eyes at the realization that he had entered this dream.

Again.

He angrily snapped his eyes open. "You don't know that," Sirius barked at the misty green woman.

She laughed throatily. "Poor Sirius, I know much more than you. Otherwise, I wouldn't be your guide."

He snorted in disbelief. "More like a 'torment'."

"This torment is of your own making, dear heart. And yes, believe it or not, I am your guide."

He refused to believe it. "You'll guide me to my death." The... tasks she asked of him. It was incomprehensible.

Or was it?

NO! he scolded his own thoughts. He truly didn't want to make his situation any more horrible than it already was.

"You are dead," she commanded knowingly. "The only difference between you and an Inferius is that my master prevents your body from rotting while allowing you to carry your soul."

Sirius' face contorted grotesquely. He shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling out his timepiece. "Tell your master that his gift is quite thoughtful," Sirius spat sarcastically, dangling the timepiece in front of him.

Fluidly spinning and twirling around him, the woman merely smiled serenely. "She'll never love half a man," she whispered harshly.

Sirius' face fell.

Hermione.

He knew this to be true, so for once, he remained silent. His eyebrows pinching together, he gazed sadly into the misty woman's pupil-less eyes.

"Ah... I see I have your full attention, now."

Sirius fearfully looked down at the dark pit below his feet. He didn't want to fall anymore. He didn't want to be damned anymore.

Every time he fell asleep, he came back here.

Glancing back toward the woman, he nodded mutely.

*** *** ***

With an irritated groan, Hermione kicked the bedclothes off her legs to answer the light knocking at the door connected to the seventh floor corridor.

Ginny may be her best friend, but she was getting a little tired of the late night 'girl talks' that were usually the result of a typical row with Harry or a date with Seamus gone wrong. She needed to remind the haughty redhead that these mid-week-late-night visits were a bit too much to handle this year.

"What is it this time?" Hermione rasped sleepily as she yanked open the door.

"Excuse me?" answered a deep, menacing voice.

It was far too dark to see him clearly, but his looming shadow was clearly outlined against the doorframe. She didn't know whether to be relieved or nervous. But she was certainly shocked beyond proper reaction.

"Severus!" Hermione quickly tried to hide behind her door, accidentally pushing it against him.

He pushed it right back as he stepped into her room.

"Just what the hell do you think you are doing?" he spat angrily, looking her up and down.

Hermione could find no response, unease and excitement filling her as she watched him close the door behind him. It had been so long. She wanted to go to him. She wanted him to wrap his cloak around her in a deep embrace. However, she sucked in a timid breath, stepping back knowingly when he threw a Silencing Charm at her door.

Severus stared at her with intent. He visually fought to maintain his rage as his pulse quickened from the sight of her.

"I asked you a question, Hermione." He took a step toward her, dipping his head to the side and causing his hair to fall against his face. "Who, exactly, were you expecting in the middle of the night... dressed so inappropriately, I might add?"

Her fright at having a man in her room for the first time quickly became replaced with fury at his insulting insinuation. She scowled at him as she crossed her arms under her chest from both annoyance and a chill ... completely unmindful of the effect the temperature had on her body.

"I was expecting Ginny, if you must know. Her dates end around this time, and since she usually ends up sleeping here, I have no need for propriety around her."

Hermione turned to retrieve her dressing gown from the foot of her bed. But the moment her fingers clutched the thick fabric, Hermione flinched as it was yanked out of her grasp. Turning in anger, she misjudged how near he was standing behind her. A flushing heat of alarm prickled her skin as she unknowingly placed both hands on his hipbones to maintain her balance. She tried to pull away but found the back of her legs hitting her four-poster.

Severus truly did enjoy the frazzled state of her. He leaned down to her ear as he flung her dressing gown on the floor. "Is that really necessary, now, my dear?"

"Give it back," she spat.

"You should of have thought of putting it on before you answered the fucking door!" He slowly let his eyes travel up her legs, lingering long moments at her breasts before making eye contact. "You never know who might be on the other side," he whispered harshly. Swiftly leaning forward, he edged the right side of his body down to grab the back of her thigh. "Or what their intentions might be."

Severus swiftly pulled her leg off the floor, forcing her to fall back on the bed.

"Severus!" Hermione painfully gripped his shoulders, trying to sit up. He removed her hands from their frightened death grip, pushing her wrists above her head and into the mattress.

It had been a very long time since he'd seen her. And what a sight she gave when he finally had.

Only a couple of days, the dispassionate side of him corrected.

Piss off, he told that part of himself.

Forcing himself on her the way he was, Severus knew he was blaming her for how much he had... missed her. Seeing her so inappropriately dressed fueled that lustful rage.

"Yes?" he murmured above her lips. Severus placed one knee on the bed. He pierced her with his lustful gaze, enjoying her internal battle of fright and pleasure. Before she could properly react, Severus descended upon her. He sucked on her bottom lip, hard. Hearing her emit a surprised moan made him deepen the kiss even more.

This was too much for Hermione. She didn't know what to do. She felt herself welcoming him hungrily into her mouth, but her limbs stiffened in apprehension. The burning heat of his other hand seared through the thin chemise beneath her lower thigh. She was growing dizzy and heated from his consuming kisses.

Severus thrust his tongue deeper into her mouth. When her tongue finally wrapped around his, he slipped his fingers underneath the flimsy material scarcely covering her full thighs. His other hand lazily caressed down her pinned arm, bringing it around his neck. With one fluid movement, Severus took the opportunity to slide a strap down her shoulder.

"Wait, Severus..." she said breathlessly. The heat from his hand seemed to be traveling higher and higher between her legs.

He pulled away from her mouth to suck on the flesh beneath her left ear. "Yes, Hermione?"

Gods, what his voice did to her.

"This... this is a little too fast," she exhaled before gasping as he pulled her chemise further down her shoulder, exposing the top of her full breast.

Severus quickly knelt up, thrusting both hands underneath her slip dress to get a firm grip on her legs. He yanked her toward him, sliding her firm body across the bed so her bum rested against his thighs, parting her legs even further. He savored the sight of her breasts swaying to the sharp movement, nipples tightening against her chemise.

Hermione's breath caught at the sudden movement. A heated flush spread across her skin when she realized her slip dress was bunched around her waist. She frantically tried to pull it down.

Severus grabbed one of her wrists to lift it above her head again as he fully rested his body on top of hers.

"Hermione," he said huskily beneath her ear, "I only desire to touch you."

The sternness in his voice told her that he truly meant it.

"But say it now, and I'll stop."

Her body slowly relaxed around him, even as the hand on her hipbone slid down her thigh.

Severus began to suckle on the other side of her throat, pulling what was left of her chemise completely off both shoulders. Her moan grew louder as he bit into the flesh of her neck.

Finally throwing all caution to the wind, Hermione let herself become lost to his consuming mouth and quivering touches. Her excited body writhed beneath him, and a moist heat began to grow between her legs. For as much as he was touching and kissing her half naked form, he was missing all the key places.

Severus grinned against her collarbone, relishing the feel of her squirming against him. Everything he did now would not elicit any further protest.

Severus slowly trailed the tip of his index finger down the center of her chest. He softly bit into her throat once more as he finally palmed the rounded underside of her bare breast. Hearing her high-pitched moan, Severus hungrily ravished the fullness of her breast as his palm skimmed across her pert nipple.

Hermione's whimpers grew louder and quicker when his mouth followed the same path as his hand. Severus' tongue and teeth ravaged her flesh as his other hand glided along her waist before grasping her fully.

"Gods..." Hermione moaned, throwing her head back against the bed. Her hands returned to clutch him by the shoulders, but this grip was one of passion. She slid her legs underneath his teaching cloak, following the outline of his upper thighs. Finally reaching his hips, Hermione wrapped her smooth legs around him, unknowingly thrusting her hot center against his arousal. Severus released a surprised groan against her breast. One hand trailed down to grasp her fully by the bum, stilling her movements. He brought his face above hers for another consuming, and hopefully distracting, kiss.

But the distraction was to no avail. Hermione wanted to hear him make that sound again.

She raised her hips off the bed once more, wantonly releasing a whimper into his mouth from the pleasure of feeling his hardness pressing against her wetness. Severus' lips broke away from hers to exhale a ragged breath before finally pushing himself up on his elbows.

He scowled at her, wanting her to see that he was not amused.

"Don't stop," Hermione whimpered disappointedly as he unlocked her ankles from his waist. She tried to wrap both arms around his neck as her body arched toward his retreating form.

"Do not tempt me," he whispered dangerously.

Severus closed his eyes, attempting to slow his breathing. But even in the blackness of his mind he could still see her beneath him. Full thighs wrapped around his legs, bare breasts bursting from her pathetic excuse of a nightgown, swollen lips and pleading eyes.

"Severus, please."

Her voice sounded much closer than it did before. Severus opened his eyes at the feel of two soft hands gliding through the hair behind his ears. Hermione mimicked his stance, kneeling on the bed in front of him. An intense craving throbbed in his groin while he watched her stare up at him. Snape brought one hand up, caressing her swollen bottom lip. Hermione closed her eyes, humming contentedly as she sucked his thumb into her mouth.

"Lift your arms up," Severus' husky voice commanded.

He reached around her, trailing his fingers down her back and over her bum, relishing the gooseflesh that invaded her skin. His hands fully gripped her before he pulled the chemise off her thighs and over her head.

Severus' eyes hooded at her nakedness. Bringing his hands forward, he quickly palmed the underside of her breasts, dipping his head to kiss her forcefully.

Hermione vaguely wondered why she had allowed him to undress her, why she did not have the proper urge to shield her body from him, or to be cautious in where this was going. But she truly didn't care anymore. His scent seemed to invade every corner of her room, and she wanted it to stay. She wanted him to stay. Severus made no move to stop her as she unclasped his cloak and pushed it from his shoulders. She didn't bother to lower the amount of noise she was making from his touches to her breasts and bum. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, straightening her legs out to lie back down on the bed.

Severus knew he should stop now if he wanted this to remain somewhat innocent. He couldn't stand holding back any longer. He thought all this, but allowed her to pull him back on top of her.

He ravished her neck as he grabbed both of her legs, wrapping them around his hips.

Hermione made no move to still his hand, which was rapidly caressing farther and farther up the inside of her thigh. But she couldn't stop herself from sucking in a nervous breath as Severus traced the outline of her knickers.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked. Hermione could hear the doubt in his shaky voice.

Biting her lip, Hermione looked up at him as she shook her head. Her hips fidgeted against him, urging him to touch her. She wanted this.

Severus' lips returned to her neck as he slid his middle finger between her legs and over the cloth covering her damp center. He glided his hands from hip bone to hip bone, along the elastic, touching her lower stomach before finally slipping his whole hand under her knickers.

Hermione parted her legs even further, whimpering at the feel of him cupping her sparse curls. She had to tear her mouth away from him as her breathing hitched when he slowly begin to caress her with his middle finger, parting her inner lips.

"Fuck... you're so wet," Severus groaned in her ear, biting her lobe. He knew he shouldn't have gone so far. All he could think about now was how ready she was for him.

Severus leaned up on his elbow to watch her reactions as he pulled his wet fingers up her inner lips to stroke her clitoris. Hermione's whole body jerked against him. She latched onto the arm stroking her over and over again. Her breaths grew quick and erratic. Hermione was past all thinking and reason now. A fire was growing deep within her sex, causing her to thrust up against his hand to find the inevitable release.

Severus ground his erection into her hip as he played with her.

Really played with her.

His fervent stroking would slow down right before she crested, dragging out her orgasm that much longer before he quickened the pace again. Severus lavished the feel of her growing wetter and wetter around his hand. He could smell her. He wanted her to beg one more time, but it wasn't as satisfying if he commanded her to do it.

"Oh, gods," Hermione gasped, clutching his wrist, encouraging his movements. "Severus...oh gods, please keep going," she cried as if in pain.

Severus groaned, willing to give her exactly what she wanted... when it happened.

His hand stilled at the sound of faint knocking on her door connected to the Gryffindor common room.

"No!" Hermione wailed, clutching the hair at her temples. "Damn it, Ginny."

Hermione lay there, hands over her eyes. She listened to Severus curse under his breath as he reluctantly rose up off her to get his cloak. She was moist from sweat and arousal, which intensified the chill in her room ... especially without the marvelous warmth of Severus on top of her. Her throat began to prickle from holding back frustrated tears.

"Come here," he commanded flatly.

She rose up on her knees at the edge of the bed where he was standing. Hermione sadly looked up at him as he wrapped her dressing gown around her shoulders. Anything he'd asked of her, she would have done.

And Severus knew it too.

He tilted her head up to give her a faint kiss on the lips. "You are to wear this every time you answer the door."

"Yes."

He was about to caress her cheek, but was interrupted by an even louder knocking. He longingly watched her walk to the door.

"We will finish this at another time, Hermione," Severus said over his shoulder before he was gone through the door leading to the corridor.

Hermione yanked open the other door with a thunderous, "WHAT?"

---

Author's Notes: As you can see, based on the chapter summary, there is much more to this chapter. Next half coming up shortly.

-Melusin was wonderful enough to fit in betaing this chapter between reading DH and working on her own writing.

-Now I understand why some of my favorite WIPs were abandoned shortly after HBP. It is almost depressing to see how AU your unfinished story will become. But luckily, this story was already AU to begin with. The only thing I fear is keeping my readers attention with the finding and destruction of the Horcruxes within the universe of this story. But not to fear, I have the story mapped out and have no intention of abandoning it. So if you are looking forward to AU after reading DH, I promise to deliver!

-Chapter title taken from John Milton's Paradise Lost, Book i. Line 65. The uncut, full phrase is:

Where peace

And rest can never dwell, hope never comes

That comes to all.

-Next up: Chapter Fifteen - Where Rest Can Never Dwell, Hope Never Comes (Part 2)