What Now?

Celebrating Victory

Disclaimer: All canon characters are the property of JK Rowling and those with whom she has agreed contracts. This story was written for practice not profit.

What Now?

The light of the single candle illuminated the two naked bodies on the bed. Hermione stretched out her arms submissively and allowed Severus to spread her knees apart. She felt the coolness of the air strike her centre, but the dimness alleviated the shyness that usually plagued her at this point. She was still awash with moisture after her orgasm and she could smell her scent on the air.

Severus knelt between her legs and suckled her other breast, as he brushed his knuckles up and down the soft smooth skin of her thighs. He was large and solid and Hermione could feel the heat radiating from him. He relinquished her nipple and blew on it, making her shiver. He shifted himself so they were face to face and began to kiss her mouth. She remembered his request that she hold him and moved her hands to cup his shoulder blades with her palms. She drummed her fingers lightly on his back.

"Guide me in," he hissed softly.

She moved her right hand down and found his erection. He was big there too. She chewed her lip lightly as she helped him find her centre. He raised himself up and watched her face carefully as he worked his way into her with a series of gentle thrusts. He filled her and it was good... so good!

She couldn't reach his lips in this position. She contented herself with kissing his collarbone repeatedly and kneading his back with both hands. His movements were exquisite and she couldn't help but grind herself against him as he continued to thrust.

"So good..." she groaned.

He increased the speed and force of his thrusts, delighted at the sounds she was making. She felt incredible. Her skin was so soft and she was more responsive for him than he had dared hope she might be. He could feel her fingers on his back. Her clutching and clawing gradually building as he thrust longer and harder and deeper. She could scrape to her heart's content. Knowing her, she'd be falling all over herself to mend him later. As he well knew, a small amount of pain would serve to make his pleasure even sweeter.

"Harder," she muttered. "Please... Harder... I won't break."

"Bossy," he scolded, even as he obliged.

She brought her knees up and wrapped her legs around him. This shift tightened her muscles around his shaft and proved to be his undoing. The restraint he was so justifiably proud of, melted away in an instant and he spilled himself inside her. His arms gave way and he sprawled inelegantly over her as he tried to recover his breath.

She groaned and relaxed under him as her own breathing slowed.

"That was marvellous," she said ruefully. "I've never been that close before. I was always too worried about getting caught to get really into it."

"Let me finish you."

"It's all right. You gave me my turn earlier. You can rest."

"I hope you weren't thinking that that was all you would get," he said teasingly, rolling to the side and reaching down between her thighs. He plunged three fingers inside her and began to rub her clit in small circular motions with his thumb. "I may be an old man in your eyes, but I have a little more stamina than you seem willing to give me credit for. Let the pleasure build again and move with me."

"Now who's being bossy?"

"Quiet, wench! Do as you are bid and I promise you won't regret it."

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He was right. By the time they were both thoroughly sated and lying in a boneless tangle on the messy sheets, regret was the farthest thing from her mind. The whole experience had completely confounded her expectations. Sex had never been like that before. Even more startling than that had been the sight of the austere professor at play. She'd known the man since childhood, but this was something she had never expected. Perhaps everyone had this capacity. They were one thing for the world to see and in the intimacy of the bedroom they were something else entirely. Come to that; she hadn't known herself either, but he hadn't seemed in the least disgusted at her eagerness. In fact he seemed to glory in it. She kissed his chest softly and he answered with a peck to her forehead.

"Show me your scar," he said suddenly.

She froze.

"Hermione, I've had my hands all over you. I've had my fingers and cock deep inside you and I've tasted you and watched your face as you came. Why are you so hung up about it?"

"It's ugly. The people at St Mungo's... were full of apologies. They couldn't do anything for me and they said I was going to have to keep it covered."

"I'm saying you should let me see it. It's not going to be that big a shock, Hermione. I saw the wound. I thought for a moment that you'd die before the fighting was over and the medics could get out to you. I just want to see how it healed. I promise it will not affect my regard for you."

"Very well... if you must," she said and wriggled over to lie face down.

He sat up and waved a hand to bring the lights up a little more.

The scar was situated just to the right of the small of her back. The centre of it was purple and dark red with some white lines radiating out from it. In truth it was smaller than he had expected. The original wound had been the size of his fist. Now it was barely the size of one of hers.

"It's not that bad," he said, touching it gently. "They didn't do too bad a job of it under the circumstances. Wounds caused by Dark Magic can't be healed as well as those caused by a simple hex. It might fade more in time."

"It's hardly pretty though," she said.

"No, it's not, but should you decide to parade around naked in the morning, I would be sufficiently distracted by your scrawny little arse to pay it no mind."

"Hey!" she protested. "My arse is not scrawny and there will be no naked parading!"

"Pity. Perhaps, if I ask nicely?"

"No!"

"If I don't return your clothes?"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"No clothes... no wand? You'll have to rely on my good nature, Miss Granger. Do you trust me?"

"I think I do," she said smugly, turning over to lie on her back again.

"I'm very pleased to hear it."

"You're so different," she said. "I never would have guessed you'd be so nice."

"I am capable of being nice. I rarely see the need to bother. Most people don't interest me and many of them get underfoot in the most appalling way."

"Do I interest you?"

"I can hardly have left you in much doubt of that. I miss Minerva's friendship a great deal and you have always reminded me of her. You are definitely worthy of my interest. I hadn't quite planned on exhibiting this kind of interest at this stage, but it's done now and I'm not going to obliviate you. When I approached you at the Ball, I was merely going to inform you of a couple of good career opportunities I would be prepared to recommend you for. I've been asked by two eminent brewers to nominate candidates for Apprenticeships. Obviously you would be my first and foremost recommendation to both of them. You're the most competent student I've ever taught. Were you male, I would have been tempted to make you an offer myself."

"Why does that make a difference?"

"Establishing a successful career as a contract brewer is about establishing a reputation. I am too young and too single myself to take on a female Apprentice. There would be too much speculation on the nature of your duties for you to be taken seriously. Both the brewers I have in mind are rounding the century mark and they're both solidly married. One works almost exclusively for St Mungo's and the other sells products through Apothecaries all over Europe. If I were you, I'd think seriously about whether or not you want to do purely medicinal work or a more general range. When you've made up your mind, I'll arrange a meeting for you."

"I hadn't really thought about contract brewing."

"In other circumstances, we would have given you more guidance during your final year. The Ministry is a dead end as far as brewing goes. When the Ministry needs a skilled brewer they contract an established one. They keep a few potions people on their staff for drone work, but the interesting stuff is done by contractors and probably by Unspeakables, although I can't state that for certain. Promotion at the Ministry is done through family connections and favours owed. It's not for a Muggleborn of your degree of talent. You'll sit there year after year, going no further and you'll meet no one to inspire you. The value of your contribution to the defeat of the Dark Lord will be glossed over entirely and you'll slide headlong into obscurity without a family or patron to promote you."

"It shouldn't be that way."

"Perhaps it shouldn't, but we're a small closed society and you will find it a great deal easier to effect change from the top than from the bottom. At least say you'll think over what I've said. You can't be happy as you are; I know it."

"I'm not... I thought that if I just ploughed on... things would fall into place... if I could just work hard enough. I did work hard, but it was so tedious and I felt so low all the time. I just hate going in and I could strangle my bloody boss, even on a good day. He's such an idiot!"

"He's a complete and utter dunderhead. Don't go back."

"I have to. Can you imagine the fuss they'll make if I just walk out? Anyway I need the money. My parents' insurance paid off their mortgage, but it didn't leave much for running the house. The Order of Merlin pension is useful, but it won't meet all my expenses."

"If you take up one of the Apprenticeships you'll be required to live in for three years anyway. You could render your house suitable to be rented by Muggles until you're ready to set up on your own. You're virtually guaranteed to be offered at least one of these positions because I won't be putting any other names forward initially. You'd start in October and I'd be pleased to accommodate you over the summer. You can have the use of a guest room and all your meals will be provided. You can work with me on re-stocking the Infirmary and such to get your hand in again. I've got to do Diagon Alley visits with the new Muggleborns as well. You might like that. If you wanted to... we might spend some... personal time together. Unless, of course, you would prefer to chalk this encounter up to a moment of madness. I would quite understand if you did. You are under no obligation to me. I will assist you without expectation of reward."

"Please don't go back in your shell, Severus. You were unbelievable tonight. I'd be a fool not to take a chance on you. You are the most eligible bachelor in Wizarding Britain after all. Perhaps a regular companion might deter some of your followers. If you're prepared to be publicly associated with a Mudblood that is."

"Don't call yourself that. I never was very fond of that aspect of the Dark Lord's philosophy. I was purely there for the chance to advance myself out of the mire my father created for us. Your competence at the Magical Arts makes you a Witch and that is good enough for me. Blood is the fallback of those who have nothing else. I have a selection of eminent long dead ancestors followed by a full century worth of relatives who were a waste of the very air they breathed. I would be honoured to have my name linked with yours if you will allow it. It might be a tad premature at this juncture. I'm thinking it might be inappropriate to appear at the dedication ceremony as such. I take it you were planning to go with the Weasleys?"

"I thought I would. I don't go to the Burrow much. It's bad enough that Ron isn't there, but seeing George without Fred is painful. Molly makes a big fuss of me, but it's all... raw somehow."

"Go with the Weasleys and I will offer consolation privately afterwards."

"This kind of consolation?" she queried, running her hand over his hip.

"If that's what you want."

"I think I can safely say that I will. If you don't mind, that is. I don't want you to feel that I'm just using you."

"You might feel differently about that if you realised how strongly I am tempted to confine you to this bed for the entire summer and keep you well fed and well fucked until I'm happy with your state of health."

"Oh! Gosh! Erm... well we might try some of that occasionally. I'm not opposed to short periods of bedrest... under the right circumstances."

"Hermione, you are a minx. Do you intend to rise to all my challenges?"

She looked him straight in the eye. "If you'll rise to mine," she said quietly.

"Somehow I don't think that will be a problem," he said, bringing his mouth down on hers.