The Unrestrained Pull

I wish to give thanks to my beta Southern_Witch_69 for all her time and patience with me. All I can do is say thank you, although that doesn't cover the appreciation I have for her help.

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The Unrestrained Pull

~Spring 1997~

The moment Hermione stood before the door she heard him call out, "Enter." Smiling, she pushed the door open and casually walked over to the bookcase to retrieve her books. It took three trips to carry all the books to the corner of his desk before she sat down in her chair. The familiar cup of tea waited for her, sitting next to the cauldron of Mind-Clarity Potion and a vial, which, undoubtedly, contained his Calming Ascetic. She added the three drops of Calming Ascetic and sipped the tea as she opened up the top book on her pile.

Suddenly, he looked up as if listening to something, then rose. Hermione turned around, trying to discern what he had heard. "Wait here. Do not touch anything until I return. Am I clear?" he snapped, moving rapidly toward the door.

She didn't even have time to respond, as he'd rushed out. She finished the tea, refilled her cup with the Mind-Clarity Potion, and then pulled out some parchment to take notes.

Hermione considered where to begin. She started to write out the spells she thought had been used on the tower in categories. Using her list, she then correlated their effects to the part of the tower where she felt the effects the most: the room at the base of the tower, the portal to the stairs, the stairs and the tower room itself, adding in a note to consider the door as well.

She flipped through each book, writing the spells she and Severus had marked with slips of parchment from each spell book that seemed remotely applicable, even the spells that faded in time. Using the Color-Change Charm with her Color-Change ink, she changed the names of all the spells on her list so they represented categories as well. Those that faded when the caster died became green, and the ones that faded in time, she made in varying shades of blue: the lighter shades for those that dissipated quicker to darker shades for those that lasted longer. The ones that were usually permanent she left black. There were only three spells that remained black, and they were on the Portal to the stairs. That makes no sense. The spells there seem weaker than the ones on the tower stairs...

She was bent over his desk, rechecking each spell when Snape entered the room. She had all fourteen books opened and spread out on his desk as she leaned over the books comparing entries, rechecking the noted durations and strengths.

She didn't hear him enter until he was right behind her.

His growl was nearly feral. "What are you doing?"

"Checking the difference on the Allurement Charm in these three books to the Luring Curse in this one," she said, remaining as she was, having just found what she thought she'd been looking for in the book in the far corner. "Did you know that the Dark Allurement Curse's wand movement is simply backward from the Allurement Charm used in 1180, and that it's nearly similar to the version used in the 1600's, which is considered a Dark Arts curse?"

"Yes, the use of certain magic spells come and go, its popularity changing with each generation. What is once in vogue one generation can easily upset the wrong people or was misused and became considered a Dark Arts Curse." He sounded angry.

Hermione pushed herself up and turned her head to look at him. His eyes were riveted on her with a penetrating stare. "Do you mind getting off my desk?" he said darkly. Hermione stood and turned around as he approached her. He leaned around her and picked up the other teacup, downing the liquid in one gulp, his eyes never leaving hers. "Do not do that again."

"I'm sorry. I thought if I had them all open to the relevant spells I might see something helpful," she said apologetically.

He moved away from her with an odd stiffness and strode purposefully to his shelves, searched for something. His long fingers moved slowly among the various bottles, occasionally picking up a vial or bottle to examine it, and then either set it back or lowered it magically to a box at his feet with a sweep of his hand. She couldn't tear her eyes off his deliberate movements. "You're staring."

She summoned the book she'd been reading and sat down in her chair, forcing herself to concentrate on the old hand-written calligraphy.

"It's not good for you to be lying across these old texts like that, Miss Granger," he said, returning to his desk carrying a red vial. He poured some of the milky white elixir into his tea.

She looked up at him, watching as he tipped his teacup to his lips, noticing the way he cradled the delicate porcelain in his fingers.

"Please do not stare at me so," he said, and Hermione blushed.

"I used a spell I saw Madam Pince using a few times when she had several books out for a research project. It shields the tomes and protects the pages, and it also prevents any harm to the binders," she replied. "I presumed, since she's so protective of her books and all – what?"

"Nothing. Go on," he said smoothly. "What have you discovered so far?"

"Not much. Only..."

"Yes."

She blushed. "If the Bloody Baron put the spells on the castle tower, wouldn't they have to be the old ones? The ones in the oldest books?"

His expression bordered on boredom. "One would presume so. That is why I pulled them from the shelves and brought them here. To study them."

"Yes, but some of these are current – well, current by wizarding standards," she tried to point out without offending him.

"Many are reproductions," he said casually. "Madam Pince is capable of reproducing many of the texts, especially the ones the students abuse. She is quite skilled at restoration as well. When a book or magical tome is replicated, the dates change."

Hermione was surprised. "I didn't know that."

"Few do," he replied with a hint of amusement in his vice. "I've the pleasure of being her colleague for several years and have had to endure her rants when a Slytherin is accused of marking, defiling or tearing one of her precious books."

"I can imagine," Hermione said, stifling a giggle, then stopped as he narrowed his eyes at her. "Oh, no, I mean I've seen her upset at students for even writing in their own books. I can imagine as Head of House she'd come to you if any of the Slytherins were out of line in her library."

"Exactly," he said smoothly. "It's among the pleasures of the position."

She was not going to ask what the other pleasures were, even though she really wanted to ask, since he'd said it with such languor. She tried to refocus on the book, forcing herself to read each word instead of staring at him. Snape picked up a book from his desk and leaned back, crossing one ankle on his knee and braced the book on his thigh. The pose was so masculine, yet so casual, that for a moment Hermione could only stare at his legs.

"You're staring, Miss Granger."

She looked up and met is dark eyes. "So are you, um, sir." His eyes narrowed, and she quickly thought back to what she had wanted to talk to him about. "I remembered something the Grey Lady said about the spells being cast when she was a student. How long ago was that? Do you have any idea?"

"No, I do not. I'm not at all on familiar terms with the ghost. She tends to avoid me," he answered. His eyes darted away a moment before he continued. "I would first have to know her name to track down that information, although there are a least a thousand attendance registries in the Deputy Headmistress' office. I know that the Bloody Baron was here after Salazar Slytherin's time and that he'd been a student. However, he doesn't claim to have known Salazar. I believe he may have attended Hogwarts after Salazar left the school. I don't think he was on the faculty, ever, although he could have been a school supporter – like the Malfoys. Unfortunately, there are few records that go back that far. My only assumption as to when they lived would be by the style of their attire."

Hermione set her book aside. "So we should consider the spells that date to the eleventh or tenth century."

"Hummpf. That is what I did. But many of the more common spells were handed down by word of mouth," he said, staring at her as if she should have realized this. "Surely you know your Muggle history as well as wizarding history? Only the socially privileged few could read and write back then. Books were priceless heirlooms – treasures. Students who couldn't read and write had to be taught how. All students created their own spell books, which were magically bound at the end of each school term. Not only that, but the 1100's were known as the era of courtly love for a reason. Love spells, alluring spells, enchanting spells, ensnaring spells, these were all fairly common and widely used, some effectively and many not. Spells as common as Alohomora, Aguamenti, Evanesco, Wingardium Leviosa and Scourgify, and many more, were not written down until later. Students were expected to memorize their spells."

She nodded and turned back to her own book, pondering what he'd said.

After a while, he closed his book. "You should go now, Miss Granger," he said. "I shall see you at breakfast."

Hermione reluctantly nodded and stood, beginning to collect the books off his desk. His chair landed with a thump when she reached with two hands for a large book situated on the desk next to his leg, and she looked up at him just in time to catch him staring at her, his jaw set firmly. "Leave it. Just go," he snarled. "Please, just go."

Hermione gawked at him, his sudden briskness incomprehensible to her, and she shuddered as she rose slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. His eyes flicked from her chest to her face as he watched her stand, and she felt her cheeks blush. "Sir, did I – what did I do?" she asked baffled.

"Nothing," he said, averting his eyes from her. "Breakfast is about to begin, please go."

Stunned, but knowing his stance could mean the loss of house points, she turned and fled, leaving her parchments behind on his desk.

~Spring 1977~

Severus was frustrated for several reasons. One, he had not been able to get Lily alone to have sex with her again. Two, he'd missed Hogsmeade weekend with her because he'd been in the hospital wing, recuperating from another attack by Potter and Black. He'd just been released by Madam Pomfrey and was going to the owlery when Potter and Pettigrew spotted him. Severus fired two hexes at Potter, dodging his return curse, and ducked against the wall next to the thick, ornate frame around the portrait of Bridget Wenlock.

"What are you doing?" she asked, alarmed.

"Trying not to get killed," he answered, firing another Body-Bind Curse at Potter.

"Tap my frame seven times, and enter – before he kills me!" the portrait hissed, frightened.

Severus did, and the frame opened just enough to admit him into a narrow corridor. He ran the length, coming out behind a tapestry into an empty corridor. Feeling smug, he ran up to the owlery.

"Sev!" Lily was just leaving as he reached the top. "You look like you've been fighting! Who've you been fighting... No – don't tell me – I don't want to know," she said, holding up her hands. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in the hospital wing, not running around the corridors dueling. I was on my way down to see you."

"I was just released, and I ran into Potter on my way to send you an owl," he replied, trying to answer all her questions in one blow. "Although, running into you here does save you the trip down to the hospital wing."

"So?" she asked, looking at him expectantly.

He grinned. "So, what?"

"My letter!" she said, holding out her hand. "Sev, I want it."

"Here rather than in your room as I intended?" he teased her.

"Or we can go to our room, and you can give it to me there," she said cheekily, looking over her shoulder as she walked down the stairs.

"Vixen," he said, following her. "Whichever you want, Lily love."

They hurried down the corridors and through the secret door. Severus watched as she slid her fingers on the wall, following her as she disappeared through the stone. He slipped his hands under her skirts, making her squeal as he chased her up the stairs and into the tower room. She turned, pulling off her robes, tossing them to the floor, and he copied her, eagerly. "Lily," he practically growled with desire, crossing the room to take her in his arms.

"Yes, Sevie..." she teased and pulled his shirt open, popping several buttons. "Oops."

"You'll pay for that, witch," he growled, pulling her close. He turned her, holding her back against him as he opened her blouse, and unzipped her skirt while nuzzling her neck.

"Sev, what did you write me?" she asked as her skirt fell around her ankles.

He turned her around, bunched her blouse about her wrists, magically tightening it in place. "I created some potions for you: a shampoo for your hair, a soap and a cream for your skin. So, you don't need that Muggle stuff anymore."

"But I like BadeDas foam bath, shampoo and bath gel!" she exclaimed, grinning. "My mum sends me the stuff. It has horse chestnut extract in it and smells absolutely divine."

"I matched its scent, well, fairly close anyway. You can increase the horse chestnut extract..." He popped her bra open. "But if you don't want it, that's fine." He slowly removed his shirt. "It's just all natural and you can make it yourself..." He let his trousers fall, standing before her nude to the ankles.

She squirmed against the blouse binding her wrists. "Sev, I can't free my hands."

"That's the whole point," he said, approaching her. She backed up, and he stalked her, his fingers fondling her nipples. He leaned forward and kissed her, gently, savoring her lips.

She leaned against the wall, her arms pinned behind her. "But then I can't touch you," she moaned.

"I know – I did this on purpose," he said, gliding his fingertips across her collarbones, down her chest, cupping each breast.

"Sev, the way you look at me..." she purred, her eyes closing as he caressed her.

"You're beautiful," he said. His fingers glided over her skin, and as his fingers trailed lower, his mouth covered one of her breasts, teasing the nipple with his tongue. She cried out in pleasure from both his tongue on her nipple and his stroking her between her legs. He put a slight hovering charm on her and pressed their bodies together. "Straddle me," he urged her as he lifted her legs. She did, and his penis poked at her entrance a few times and easily penetrated her.

She gasped in pain, her eyes opening wide.

"Lily?" he asked worriedly.

"It's not as bad this time," she reassured him, smiling shyly. "Just the – go slow?"

"Okay," he said, withdrawing slowly.

Her face scrunched, almost a frown, which worried him. "I'm hurting you, aren't I?"

"A little. Hold still a moment," she begged, and he pushed in and held her, waiting.

His penis jerked, and he felt the tension in his shaft lessen as he waited. I'm going to go soft...

Slowly she began to relax. "It's okay now," she replied.

Great! He wasn't as stiff, so he didn't want to pull back too far, and it was a little harder sliding back into her. After a few strokes though, his penis engorged again, making things much easier, but he still thought he was hurting her. Her lip quivered, and her eyes closed as he slowly pushed back in and withdrew, moving as slow as he could hoping it wouldn't hurt as much. She moaned in pleasure, and he grinned. "You like this?"

"Oh, gods, yes, this feels sooo good, Sevie," she said in a slow drawl.

"Put it like that and I'll even let you call me, Sevie!" he replied, continuing to move as slowly as he could manage, pulling out as far as he could without popping out, then sliding into her deeply.

"Sevie," she moaned, probably meaning to be cheeky with him, but it sounded so good to hear her say it like that. She struggled against her binds. "Undo my hands."

"No, I rather like watching you like this," he said, grinding himself against her groin.

She gasped and her eyes flew open. "Oh, my – do that again!"

"Sure!" he said, rubbing himself against her. After a few tries, he finally found a rhythm of rubbing his groin against hers with every inward thrust. She writhed in front of him, pleading to have her hands free, and very soon she was panting and begging him to go faster. His own body was reacting to her cries, and he was so close he was worried that he'd come before her. With a loud cry, she stiffened, cried out his name, and he slammed into her, reacting to his own driving need as his own release came.

When he looked up at her finally, he realized that he was literally crushing her against the wall. "Lily, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... Did I hurt you?"

"No, not bad," she said, still slightly breathless. "Will you release my hands now? My shoulders hurt."

He moved back to allow her to put her feet down, and his penis fell out of her. He leaned forward to undo her hands and say the counter-charm that held her blouse in place. The moment her hands were free, she embraced him and kissed him passionately. Severus smiled. Mine. My Lily.

~Spring 1997~

It was late at night. Hermione had fled the common room when Ron and Lavender started sucking face again, and her feet automatically carried her to the secret door and up to the tower room. I'm a better kisser than she is... And I don't slobber, smack and slurp either.... She'd been crying so hard she hadn't even cared where she went as long as she didn't have to see Ron and Lavender suctioned together or hear Lavender brag about it later in her dormitory. But, still it hurts to see her – him stuck in a lip-lock like a leech. I wouldn't call that slobbering, groping, mauling display as kissing anyway. Not when I now know what real toe-curling, leave-you-breathless and make-you-swoon kissing is like. In all the time I've known him – he hasn't even tried once – not once! But he's with Lavender one night and they are lip-locked at every opportunity. Why? She knew it really shouldn't bother her, but Ron had been, well, she thought that he was going to be her boyfriend, only he'd never even tried to kiss her. It's not only Ron, though. Not one of the guys has ever tried to kiss me – ever! Why don't guys see me as a girl worth kissing? I am kissable, I am girlfriend material... She wiped angry tears from her face again. Her sleeve was damp with her tears, but there wasn't anyone up here to see her. She could cry all she wanted, and no one was going to come and ask her what was wrong. No one.

She sat curled up on the windowsill, her arms around her knees, as she stared out at the dark window, unable to make out much except the stars in the sky and a vague outline of the mountains. Parvati has got someone... When doesn't she? Even Nancy and Deborah have gotten someone... The guys all want to kiss them. And Ginny – half the guys in the house like her! Including the guys from my year! So why am I ignored? Passed over?

The click of the door latch echoed in the room, startling her. She dropped one leg off the windowsill, turning slightly as Snape opened the door. He stood in the doorway, staring at her, his eyes consuming her, yet his face was stone mask of indifference as he backed up a step as if to leave before the door closed and locked him in with her. Great! Even he doesn't want me... I crave him, dream about him, fantasize about him and even he doesn't even want me... Snape stood there, never letting go of the door latch, then took a tentative step forward again and stopped. He doesn't want to come in because he'd have to kiss me to leave... I'm so terrible, so undesirable, even he doesn't want to kiss me. His dark eyes never left hers, his gaze held hers as if captivated. The one guy I really do want to kiss, the one guy in this whole bloody castle that makes my heart race, and fairies flutter in my stomach, and he doesn't want to kiss me either.... She wiped a pair of new tears off on her sleeve. I'm not desired by anyone... I'm not even remotely kissable... The memories of what drove her to come up to the room flashed unwillingly in her mind, and all the feelings and thoughts she'd had as she'd ran up here all came back to her.

His eyes widened in surprise, and he stepped forward, crossing the room and pulled her from the windowsill and into his arms. "I'd say you are very kissable, Miss Granger," he said as his mouth lowered down over hers. She expected a fierce demanding kiss by the look on his face. Instead, his lips barely caressed hers, sensually. Hermione wrapped her arms around him, craving him, but his kiss remained teasingly gentle. She tried rising up on her toes to kiss him ardently, but he moved with her somehow, keeping his kisses feather light. She opened her mouth to protest, and his tongue slipped into her mouth, deepening the kiss luxuriously but maddeningly tender. His hand cupped her face, his thumb stroked her cheek, the languid kiss continued unhurriedly. Before she knew it, he was pulling her top up and off, and her bra was landing on the floor.

"I never said that I don't desire you," Snape said as his fingers glided down her body. She tried to undo the buttons of his frockcoat, but he bent down, his mouth suckling on her breast. Her one hand gripped his shoulder and she ran her fingers through his hair with the other. She felt him open her jeans, gently pulling them off her and she lifted each foot to assist him. He continued to kiss her body, making little nibbles and licks as he very slowly moved back to her breast. When he stood up again to kiss her, he pulled off his clothes, standing before her as naked as she was, his wand in his hand.

He guided her backwards to sit on the windowsill, looking down at her carnally, and knelt before her. Hermione tried to squirm as he separated her legs, lifting them up to his shoulders. He pulled her hips forward slightly so that her bum was precariously perched on the very edge of the windowsill, his mouth merely inches from her center. Suddenly, his tongue licked her, making her gasp out in shock. She tried to close her legs, but he opened her easily, and he licked her again.

Hermione tried clutching onto the wall, gasping, his actions inconceivable to her. Snape growled in pleasure, sending shock waves rippling through her. His mouth and tongue were infinitely more arousing and alarming than his fingers had been. Within minutes, she was squirming. A few minutes more and she was crying out his name. As the sensations ebbed somewhat, however, he didn't stop, her highly sensitized nub throbbed as the building sensation grew again, this time far more intense. She cried out, her head on the glass, her fists pounding on the stone as her body gave in to the draining release. He pulled back, and she sat up, only to be pulled easily into his arms and onto his lap.

"I'd say you are very delectable," he practically purred against her lips. She realized that he was sitting on a very large cushion that he must have conjured for his knees.

"Is it the same for you?" she asked in post climatic bliss, wrapped in his embrace. She smiled as she felt his penis jerk against her leg.

"No, and yes," he replied cryptically, looking down at her speculatively. "Why?"

She slid her hand down to curl her fingers around his penis, and he inhaled sharply, his body stiffened a little. The skin was surprisingly different than she thought it would be, so different than the rest of him. "It's so soft," she said, barely a murmur but quite audible in the quiet room.

"Hardly..." he started to reply, then growled softly, deep in his throat as she shifted her hips so she'd have better access to glide her fingers down his penis.

She was enjoying stroking the soft, silky skin, and watching the reaction her touch had on his voice and expression.

He inhaled and practically purred. "Miss – Hermione, you shouldn't..."

"Let me touch you?" she asked, finishing his sentence. His eyes widened slightly. She pulled her wand from her jeans, did her best to conjure a thick blanket behind him, and scooted around on his lap so that she straddled his legs. She moved her fingers down his length, slightly grazing the fleshy sac behind it and curled her fingers as she pulled up. "I don't know if I'm doing this right?" she asked while continuing to stroke him.

"Believe me you're doing fine. If I could give Gryffindor points for this, I'd give you sixty."

Emboldened, Hermione gently pushed him to lean back more and slipped down lick him like he'd done to her, then tried to take him in her mouth. His eyes widened, and he inhaled deeply as he watched her. His hand reached out to grasp her hair, his long fingers gently caressing her. She kept stroking him, her fingers curling around his sac and sliding up to meet her lips each time she lowered down on him.

"Merlin, girl, I'll make that a hundred," he gasped. Suddenly he stopped her, his eyes blazing with desire, and he pulled her up to him, kissing her passionately. He rolled her swiftly onto her back, positioned himself, and then thrust into her.

It hurt and she inhaled sharply.

Unfortunately, he didn't seem to notice. After a few swift, fierce thrusts, he froze deep within her, growled, his breathing erratic, his back arching, his shoulders shaking. When his body relaxed, he looked down at her with an expression of deep satisfaction.

"And how much would you give me for this?" she asked smugly, watching his face, knowing she had caused his reaction.

"I say at least another hundred to Gryffindor, Miss Gra – Hermione," he said and leaned down to kiss her. When he rolled off her, she sat up and used a corner of the blanket to wipe herself, alarmed when she saw blood. "Hermione, I'm sorry," he said, seeing her expression and looking at the blanket. "Circe, girl, I was too rough. I'm sorry. You won't bleed long..."

"It's okay," she replied, reaching for her knickers and jeans. "I'll just slip a pad into my knickers when I get back to my room."

Snape stared at her. After a moment's hesitation, he dressed quickly and stood, leaning against the wall, watching her finish dressing. "Why did you come here?" he asked, his disconcerted tone resurfacing. "Don't you know – you have to realize? Circe, girl! If I see you here again, do be assured that this – our copulation – will happen, again. Unless that is why you've continued seeking me out here. I strongly suggest that you reconsider coming back..."

"Seek you out?" She'd been zipping up her jeans and froze. "Why did you come here tonight? You don't usually come up here at night! You come in the morning – you said so!" She stepped backwards, nearly stumbling.

He took two steps and pulled her back into his arms. "Why me? You could have anyone."

"No, I can't," she said, clinging to him. "I don't want just anyone...."

"Only because of the spells," he said. He stared at her, and she could see the desire in his eyes even though he was trying to control himself. "If you were not under the curse of this room, we would not be doing this." He kissed her hungrily, then pushed her away. "Go to your common room, now, before I have to dock you points for being out after curfew," he growled, letting go and heading for the stairs

*

Down in the first floor corridor two hundred more rubies had floated up in the Gryffindor hourglass. By breakfast everyone was wondering how those points got there. Hermione blushed all through the meal and could hardly wait to get to class, secretly hoping no one knew or bothered to ask Snape how Gryffindor got the points.

Author's Notes: