chapter 09

IX.

...

Transfiguration was almost never used in the wizarding world when it came to building things. Fire off the wrong charm, and a small piece of lumber magically shaped to fit as, say, a strong, stout, structural support timber might revert to its original, puny form...and bring the whole building down upon its occupants' heads. Magic was used, however, to help get the maximum in space, support, and strength out of whatever already suitable materials were being used.

Wards, charms, runes, and enchantments of various types could be used, even if by preference the building materials had to be the real sorts. Thus it was that Hermione and Severus bought most of their home-improvement materials from a local Muggle lumber and hardware retailer, but installed it with spells garnered from a wizarding book filled with magically enhanced home improvement and repair techniques.

There wasn't much they could do about the actual silhouette of the walls in the original basement, not without risking the house's structure integrity; the overgrown cottage had been constructed only a few years ago. Its walls were formed from stout concrete blocks sandwiched between layers of insulating foam blocks, plus the usual gypsum panels, paint, and a faux exterior designed to mimic the graceful beams-and-plaster of Tudor construction techniques. But they could, and did, cut a doorway in the back wall, and built deeper into the ground, since the cottage sat on a fair piece of property.

Now the basement had an addition that stretched out beneath the back gardens, insulated against the threats of dampness, temperature changes, and freezing by spells carefully carved into the cement blocks bracing the space they had created, after Vanishing the necessary dirt one section at a time. Their laboriously enchanted efforts doubled their floor space, something that was deemed absolutely necessary once they had finished arguing over their breakfast as to how much room would be devoted to which activities.

The Muggle furnace was still enclosed in its modest, walk-in-closet sized space behind the stairs leading down into the basement. The section next to those stairs had an area set aside for a fireplace, located more or less underneath the one in the front parlour. They would only share a chimney in the smoke-venting sense; the hearth that would be constructed in the basement would be Floo-connected, but none of the others in the house would be magical in nature. The smallish space, formerly the room Aunt Eumenia had kept her household tools in, was stripped of its shelving and given the makings of a bench-seat along one wall instead. With the original carpeting ripped up and replaced by tile and a throw-rug brought down from upstairs...which was far easier to cast a Cleaning Charm upon than carpeting...it would make a reasonably nice entryway for their wizarding guests.

Of the four remaining original rooms beneath the house, one was converted into an enchanted, walk-in icebox, as some of the rarer ingredients worked best when they were kept cold, while some had to be kept frozen...which meant the back half was blocked off for the necessary self-sustaining temperature charms, and thoroughly insulated. Another chamber was enchanted with racks of shelving suitable for Severus' bottled ingredient collection. The third room was given more shelving and cabinets for dried goods storage, plus a set of cupboards for drying said ingredients, and the fourth was lined with yet more storage space for finished potions and other eventual products.

Under the garden was a large, longish room, which would be filled with workbenches, sinks, cupboards and counters, racks of implements, and space for tending half a dozen cauldrons with room to spare. It was a bit ambitious in its size, considering the paucity of their current equipment, but both Severus and Hermione agreed it would be better to plan large and have extra space, than to plan small and run out of room at a crucial moment. Three more rooms branched off from that one along the right side.

The first was a space to store empty bottles, jars, flasks, and other supplies. A second room had been added, one-third the size of the main workroom, but designed to be a smaller, secondary lab, with room for two cauldrons and a double-sink, plus sufficient workspace. Severus had insisted upon that one, in case they found themselves working on two different orders that, for production reasons, should not be crafted in the same room together.

The last chamber was a bathroom, replete with sink, toilet, and bathtub with a shower head. The actual plumbing would have to be installed by a wizarding plumber, the same as for the sinks and drains out in the main and secondary workrooms, but at least the room was there, as were all of the necessary parts, waiting for their installation.

Hermione insisted upon having a bathroom down there. It raised their costs considerably because of the extra plumbing, but she pointed out that they needed a room close at hand to wash off anything caustic that they might encounter. Not to mention, sometimes one of them might need a quick lavatory break when a cauldron couldn't be abandoned for more than a minute or two; a minute or two was how long it would take just to get upstairs, never mind actually using the facilities up there.

There were still cupboards to build, cabinets to install, drawers to craft, tables to create, and of course the ventilation to install for cauldron fires and potion fumes. But it was a good day's work. Satisfied with their visible progress, the pair headed upstairs to have supper, a roast set to slowly cook in the oven all day with vegetables put into the pan during their last break over an hour ago, soaking up the juices and turning quite tasty. Plus leftover marble-cake, served by Severus with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side. It was an excellent way to finish a hard day's work, really.

In fact, it wasn't until Hermione settled back in her seat at their preferred table in the kitchen, full and content, that her housemate and fiance reminded her of their agreement.

"Not too sleepy, are you?" Severus asked her, running a forkful of cake through the last bits of melted ice cream on his plate.

"A little bit, but not terribly so," she conceded. "Why do you ask?"

"I believe you owe me a bath," he stated, his attention seemingly on the important task of sopping up the traces of his pudding, and not so much on his enquiry.

Hermione wasn't the least bit fooled. The day Severus Snape didn't have his mind racing to process every little iota of information around him...some of them admittedly leading him to erroneous conclusions in the past, but at least he thought about everything around him...was the day the Healers at St. Mungo's would have to declare him officially dead. Since he was very much alive and breathing, she permitted herself a small smile.

"I think a nice, long, hot bubble-bath would be lovely. But not immediately after supper; that would put me to sleep," she admitted wryly. "Unless a way were found to keep me awake, of course."

"What would you suggest to keep you awake, then?" he asked before taking a bite of his dessert.

"Oh, I don't know. A pity the path to the bath upstairs doesn't swing by the front door, otherwise I'd suggest a nice, long, hot snog," Hermione dared to tease him.

Chewing and swallowing, Severus regarded her levelly. "...As much as I admire that particular locale for that particular activity, we will not limit ourselves to only being able to kiss in the foyer, and nowhere else. I trust I make myself perfectly clear?"

She grinned at him. "Now, that's a threat I'll gladly heed...not that I'll let you bully me all the time, but since it's for such a logical, worthwhile cause..."

Severus finished the last of his cake with a smirk. Hermione rose and started putting away the untouched portions of their meal. Severus did his part of the after-tea cleanup, too, stacking the dishes into the washer tucked under the counter and making sure it had soap. He tapped it with his wand, however, rather than using the controls; the same amount of water would be needed to wash and rinse their dishes, but magic was cheaper to use than electricity.

Once everything was tidied, he followed her out of the kitchen, turning off the light. But he didn't let her get far; snagging his housemate by the elbow, Severus pulled Hermione back toward him, drawing her into his arms. In the near-dark of the hallway, lit only by the light spilling down from the stairwell, he found her mouth with a skill born mostly from his increasing familiarity with it. All he had to do was tilt his head just so, lean over like that...and there it was, tilting and lifting to meet his lips eagerly.

Hermione pressed herself against him, moving her mouth after a moment in little nibbling motions. Sometimes she liked a heated snog, all tongues and heat; sometimes she liked sweet little kisses, quick but tasty nibbles. Tonight, he was dessert, pure and simple.

Severus gauged Hermione to be in a slower sort of nibbling mood, tonight, until she licked his lips. Literally tracing the outline of his mouth with the tip of her tongue, she sent tingles of lust racing through his limbs. He revised his assessment of her attack plan from slow-nibble to slow-torment, and responded in kind. Catching her tongue, he sucked on it, then ate her mouth in lipping bites and curling licks, reminding himself to go slowly. Palms sliding down her back, he curled his fingers under her buttocks, lifting her abdomen up into his hardening loins.

Groaning, Hermione gently bit his lower lip, tugging on it delicately until he relaxed it, then sucking on it with added little flicks of her tongue-tip. Shortly after doing so, she found herself pressed back against the hallway wall; apparently, he liked that a lot. One of his hands shifted to the small of her back, the other to the curve of her breast. Her own curled in the fabric of his shirt, then started tugging at his buttons.

Regretfully, that act brought Severus partway back to his senses. Dragging his mouth free of hers, he struggled for both air and self-control. Her fingers stilled on his shirt as she panted, too; their foreheads rested together and their eyes met, their muscles trembling with sexual electricity. Tongue moistening his parted lips, Severus managed a word. "...Bath."

"Right," Hermione breathlessly agreed.

He pulled back enough to allow her to slip past him, heading for the stairs...then grabbed her and hauled her back against his body, pressing his loins to the small of her back with the aid of the arms he wrapped around her hourglass figure. Sagging back into him, Hermione enjoyed the way he nuzzled her curls, burying his face in her hair so that he could inhale her scent.

"Mm...Severus..."

The way she sighed his name made his knees weak. Severus wasn't sure if he entirely liked the sensation. True, his heart had raced worse than this during the most frightening moments of his life...and there had been several of those, thanks to the damned war...but never had he felt so disarmed, so helpless and so happy to feel this way, before now. The urge to say something...to say something emotional...threatened his composure. Forcing his wits back into place, he slid his hands to her waist, straightening a little more. Clearing his throat, he managed coherency. "We need to be upstairs, to continue this."

Sighing in regret, Hermione stopped leaning into him. Covering his hands with hers, she grasped his fingers and tugged him in her wake. "If you insist..."

She didn't look back at him as they mounted the stairs. The realization that she would soon be stripping herself naked in front of him was starting to make Hermione nervous. Not looking at him helped bolster her courage a little, but she had to lecture herself to continue up the stairs.

At least until they reached the bathroom. Severus turned her to face him when they were inside and the door was shut, pulling her close enough to dust her brow with a soft kiss, then her nose. When he reached her lips, she leaned into him, relaxing once more in his arms.

This was Severus. Sourpuss to some, but Puss-in-Boots to her. He hadn't complained when she had stripped him naked, had in fact participated willingly in baring himself to whatever she might do to him. It was only fair and just that she be as open with her body's secrets as he had been.

With that in mind, she broke off their kiss, stepping back a little. That bumped her into the sink counter, but it did give her enough distance from his intoxicating presence to think. "Um...so, do you want to fill the bath, or shall I?"

Considering Severus had never prepared a bath for anyone in his life, he didn't have to think hard or long about her question. "You do it," he instructed her. Then found himself curious enough to add, "Show me how you like your baths."

Hermione flushed at the implication, that he was interested so that maybe he could replicate it for her some day; it left her feeling both embarrassed and pleased. Embarrassed to share this part of her privacy, her feminine needs, and pleased that he seemed sincere in his quest to know her preferences. Clearing her throat, she gestured at the bathtub. "Well...usually, I start by enlarging the tub. Muggle ones just aren't big enough for a good soak, and I've been, um, a bit spoilt by the prefects' bath."

Gesturing for her to proceed, Severus watched as she drew her wand, muttered, and cast the appropriate room-Transfiguring spell. Her mentor and House-head would have been proud. Within moments, the bathroom had enlarged just enough to accommodate a sloped marble tub broad enough for two. A flick of her vinewood shaft on the tap not only turned it on, but broadened the spigot so that plenty of water spilled forth, filling the broadened basin quickly. Another flick of her wrist caused one of the bottles on the tower-like shelves tucked into the back corner to levitate over the swirling water, tipping in a generous glob of pale green.

The water quickly turned murky-white and frothy, releasing perfume into the air. Something citrusy, Severus decided, with an under-note of sandalwood. Not a bad combination, he acknowledged. And if I joined her...if I joined her, in the future...perhaps I wouldn't mind this scent on my skin.

Another swish of her wand shut off the water when the level of the steaming liquid satisfied her. Since even her hair had gotten a little sweaty from their construction labor in the basement, Hermione didn't sweep it up and pin it in place with her wand. Instead, she set the vinewood shaft on the broadened back ledge of the tub, straightened again, and turned to glance at her betrothed. "So. Erm...would you like to undress me? Or shall I do it?"

Severus decided he wanted that privilege. Grasping the hem of her shirt, he lifted it up over her head. Hermione quickly cooperated, lifting her arms for him.

Dropping the garment behind him, he paused to admire her pink bra, edged along the cups with a tiny bit of lace. If the color hadn't been a nice, bright blush in shade, it would have been rather virginal in appearance, with or without any blazingly tall letters. That might have made him pause. But the color of it was bolder than expected, and he admired it. In fact, its boldness compelled him to lift one hand and trail the tips of his first two fingers along the swell of her breast.

Hermione blushed at his touch. He liked seeing that; it meant she wasn't accustomed to a hand on her flesh...and that she aroused by his hand upon her flesh. Of course she still had on summer shorts, and shoes and socks that needed removing. Severus wanted the pleasure of removing them, too. It took a few moments of internal debate, his fingers gently tracing back and forth across her cleavage before Severus decided it would be worth it to drop to his knees in order to remove her footwear. He wasn't infirm, but neither was he entirely young anymore. Still, it would be worth it.

First, though, he cupped her hips lightly in his hands, guiding her back to sit on the edge of the tub. Then he lowered himself to the floor, resting his knees upon the rounded rectangle of bath rug laid over the tiled floor. In the steamy heat of the bathroom, when he glanced up, she looked like a frizzy-curled angel perched on the precipice of falling. Hopefully she will only fall far enough to join me, Severus found himself thinking, and perhaps lift me up to a better life than I've known, before.

He looked so serious, yet so earnest, Hermione lifted her hand to his face. She could feel a hint of stubble rasping against her fingers as he leaned into her touch. The time he had spent as a cat was evident in the way he nuzzled his cheek into her palm, eyes drifting shut. An indulgent smile curled the corners of her mouth. She, Hermione Granger, had taught this pessimistic, repressed man to indulge in his senses.

Her smile stilled when he opened his eyes again. Never had she seen them so black, before. Not when they were filled by an emotion other than overwhelming anger. No, this time, desire glowed in their depths, a knowing darkness that held all of the secrets found in the depths of the night, constrained only by the regard of a man for the woman he wanted. Desire clenched in her belly; Hermione knew without a doubt that she had too many clothes on, now.

The feeling intensified when he lowered his gaze from her brown eyes to her pink-clad chest...making her aware of how much fuller they seemed to be, under the warmth of his regard...then down to the waistband of her shorts. Again, her belly tightened with need. When his hand lowered from her chest to her leg, warming her bare skin, she involuntarily parted her legs a little, wanting more than just the almost platonic touch of his palm upon her knee.

The heat in his dark stare intensified, and his hand slid up the curve of her thigh...dipping into the leg of her shorts. Not far; not closer than a finger-length to the crease of her hip, but close enough to make her muscles tense with anticipation. His other hand lifted to her knee, rested there a moment, then it, too, quested partway into the sheltering fabric of her shorts. Her legs twitched apart in inadvertent, if undeniable, invitation.

Inhaling sharply at her movement, Severus caught a whiff of her scent. Musky, yet feminine. It was almost as entrancing in his human form as it had been in his feline one. Dragging his mind as well as his hands away from her legs, he sank back on his heels so that he could lift one of her feet into his lap. It didn't take long to remove her shoe, nor her sock, nor for him to replace that foot with the other one so he could repeat the process of baring her flesh to his touch.

Her feet weren't entirely sweet-smelling, not after a day of hard work casting spells to dig out the new basement section, laying and quick-drying concrete, crafting counters and cupboards out of the lumber they had bought, and everything else they had done. But they were attractive enough, for feet.. He didn't hesitate to cup her foot in his palms, nor to knead her flesh from ankle to toes.

The moan that escaped her writhed its way up into the rest of the sensual steam heating and perfuming the bathroom. Hermione dropped her head back, lips parting on a second groan as he worked the tension out of her foot...and up into different parts of her flesh. Not until he released both of her feet, placing them on the bathmat, did she realize he had more in store for her than an unbelievably pleasurable torment like that. In fact, it took her a moment to register the meaning in his rasped command.

"Up. Stand up," Severus ordered her, his throat not the only thing thick with rising desire. "Please."

He had never considered himself to be a foot-man; more of a hip-man, really. That had been the good thing about his existence as a professor among so much nubile, barely-legal flesh among the sixth and seventh years at the school; the robes the students constantly wore tended to hide his preference in feminine assets. Now, as she gathered her wits and struggled to her feet in front of him, he was face-to-groin with his favorite region: a woman's pelvis.

There was something...luscious...about this region. Let other men stare at breasts or legs or buttocks all they wished. He admired the dip of her waist the flare of her hip-bones, the tapering curves that led to her thighs; they were attractive, but they were merely the frame for his most favourite part on a woman. That sweet, ultra-feminine spot just below her navel, where her belly curved ever so slightly...and it was almost entirely his to play with. They were engaged; she would not object if he caressed her, worshipped her... Having been stuck as a cat for over a month had clearly tapped into hitherto unknown sensualities within him.

Lifting unsteady fingers to the waist of her shorts, he unsnapped them, then drew down the zipper. The soft rasp was matched by a sharp inhale of her breath. Severus licked his lips, then ran the backs of his fingers beneath the waistband, until he could twist his hands and cup her hips. Warm flesh and soft cotton met his touch. Gliding his hands down, he pushed the shorts free, letting them fall to her ankles. Baring her low-cut knickers.

Hermione felt nervous at being so exposed, so bared before him. This was the same man, after all, who had cut her to the bone on a number of occasions back when he had been one of her teachers. As brave and bold as she was in regards to knowing what she wanted in life, and that she wanted some sort of relationship with him...she couldn't help but remember in that moment how he had disparaged her intelligence, disparaged her eagerness...even disparaged her teeth.

But when he glanced up at her, she didn't see Professor Snape, Potions Master & Professional Bastard. She saw a middle-aged man who, while not the most handsome middle-aged man in the universe, was still a man who clearly wanted her. Who almost seemed to worship her, when he returned that dark gaze of his to her abdomen.

Unable to help himself, he slipped trembling fingers under the leg bands of her matching blush-pink underwear. Drawing the garment down an inch at a time, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the soft curve of her abdomen, below the dimple of her navel. Though the scent was different than in his cat form, less complex thanks to his less sensitive human nose, Severus could still smell her arousal. His loins hardened with matching desire. Reverently, he kissed her belly again, suckling her bared flesh until he felt her fingers brushing through his hair.

Hooking his hands more firmly in the waistband of her knickers, he drew them down completely, assisting her to step out of them. Without the barrier of silky material, her scent was even stronger. Almost too strong; his nose was sensitive to smells, which was one of the things that made him good at brewing. In cat-form, the scent was intoxicating and strong. In man-form, intoxicating but strong. A subtle difference, but he had to conclude that cats smelled things differently than humans did. He was also forced to admit that, after a hard day's work, even he was a little ripe; in the close, moist air of the bathroom, that much was becoming rather apparent.

There was just one more garment to be removed. Trailing his hands from her hips to her ribs, he smirked when she squirmed from the ticklish sensations. It wasn't easy, unhooking the back of her brassiere, but he managed with a minimum of fumbling. For a moment, she cupped her bra to her breasts with a blush, then let him draw the straps down her arms, removing the garment.

Pressing a kiss to that deliciously feminine softness below her navel, Severus sank back on his heels. Looking up at her face, past the half-apple curves he had just bared, he offered her a hint of a smile. "Time to bathe."

"Don't you want to...?" Hermione asked him, letting her words trail off.

"Afterward," he reassured her. "First, I shall pamper you. Then I shall pleasure you."

From the way her eyes unfocused and glazed, from the way her body trembled just a little, Severus guessed she liked that combination. Smirking, he offered her his hand, rising back to his knees and steadying her while she stepped into the tub. She hissed a little, sinking into the still-hot water, then relaxed into the bubbles.

After a moment, Hermione glanced at her soon-to-be lover. "...At this point," she admitted, "I usually have a book or a trade journal to read. Something to stimulate my mind whilst my body relaxes. I mean, if I were just getting clean, I'd take a shower, and be done with it."

Severus considered her words. He wanted her to relax, but didn't want to be ignored at the moment, either. "Perhaps we could discuss something stimulating?"

She considered his words, then bit her lower lip, hesitating.

"...Yes?" Severus prompted her.

Hermione grimaced a little. "It's just that...well...you probably wouldn't go for it, but..."

"Ask," he instructed her, curious to know what she was hesitating over.

"Could you...recite some poetry?" Hermione managed to bring herself to ask, cheeks burning with embarrassment at her bravery.

That wasn't expected. Severus arched one of his brows and repeated the word. "...Poetry."

"Yes...it's just that you have such a sensual voice," she added quickly. "And I know you don't want to, and you don't have to, but...oh, never mind. What do you think of possibly going into cosmetics as a line of potions pursuit?"

She fell silent at his sardonic look. Rising from the floor, Severus strode to the bathroom door, cracking it open. A silent slash of his wand, and a few moments later, a book smacked into his palm. Returning to her side, he closed the lid of the toilet and seated himself upon it, thumbing through the pages. Finding a likely spot, mostly based on how worn the spine was at that point, he cleared his throat and began to read from the story.

[A miniature, sunset-coloured elephant rollerskates gracefully into view, towing a banner propped up on a skateboard that reads: "This is an excerpt from The Song, ©2007 (well, technically it'll be ©2008) G. Jean Johnson, used here with the author's permission (duh); don't mess with any of it because it's copyrighted original stuff, another duh--btw, this story won't be released until February of 2008, so suffer waiting for the rest of it in the meantime...and yes, I'm cruel. You love me anyway, third duh, *mwah*!" The elephant winks at all the FSS fans, waves her trunk in a friendly fashion, and skates out of the room again...]

"'Go get ready for bed,' he directed her, enjoying the way she swayed toward him a little when he pulled back. She opened her eyes and he smiled. 'I owe you a massage.'

That reminded her of his promise to reciprocate the special, extra touch she had given him at the very end of his massage, last night. 'You don't have t...'

Evanor silenced her with a finger laid on her lips. 'I know I don't have to. I want to. Will you let me pleasure you?'

Oh, dear Natua... Mariel wondered how her legs were still managing to stand under the seduction of that simple, straightforward question. Managing a nod, she forced herself to move toward the refreshing room. Once away from his lean frame, she felt cooler; perhaps not all of her blushing had been from embarrassment. Perhaps some of it had come simply from being in close proximity to a handsome, intelligent, charming, attractive male. Whose touch she wanted very, very much right now...

Watching her close the refreshing room door, Evanor released his self restraint long enough to raise clenched fists in victory. It was a very good thing he didn't have a voice right now; hissing in triumph was bad enough, but if she heard his triumph through the closed door... He didn't want her mistakenly thinking he was some callow youth just interested in luring her into his bed for some temporary fun. Ev was very much interested in luring her into his bed for some permanent fun..."

Hermione melted. It was her favorite scene in that book. Not because it was very smutty, but rather because it wasn't all that smutty. It was the start of a passage wherein the hero treated the heroine to a truly sensual massage, and it melted her just reading it. Now, hearing it in Severus' voice, it heated her as well, and made her wish fervently that he was going to give her a sensual massage, too.

Closing her eyes, she let her head loll back against the ledge of the bathtub, listening to his deep, quiet voice caressing the words as he continued. When the story got to the point where the heroine mused on how fabulous a voice the hero had, she couldn't help but wonder herself if Severus had as wonderful a singing voice as his speaking one was.

Of their own accord, her hands skimmed up through the bubbles, cupping and caressing her breasts. Severus' voice was just so...so sexy, especially when discussing the proper pleasuring of a woman. She knew to the moment he realized what she was doing; his voice faltered, his breath hitched, and it took him several seconds to resume his recital. He continued reading but paused and stumbled now and again, no doubt from the need to look up and see what she was doing.

It took her a few moments to realize he wasn't following the text anymore. No, the words he spoke now were different things...erotic things...which he was making up on the spot. Deciding to open her eyes a tiny bit, she peered at him through her lashes as he spoke.

"...and then he circled the tip of her nipple with his finger, brushing against it just enough until it perked up..."

His gaze was fixed on her chest, not on the book. Daringly, she circled her nipple with her fingertip. His lips parted, and the tip of his tongue licked his upper lip, lingering a bit longer than absolutely necessary for moisturizing needs. Licking her own lips, Hermione forced herself to ask him before she lost her boldness, "And...and does he lick it?"

His gaze flew to her face. Caught making up his own fantasies, Severus felt his face growing warm with embarrassment. Of course, her own cheeks looked a bit flushed, but from the gleam of curiosity in her eyes, he felt reassured that she wasn't offended. Deciding it was time to focus on her bath, he set the book on the counter and started unfastening the buttons of his shirt.

"Once it has been cleaned and rinsed, yes." At her puzzled look, he let the corner of his mouth curve up a little. "We need to move on to the bathing part of your bath, before we progress too far."

Stripping off his shirt, Severus knelt by the tub. Stretching over her, he snagged the nylon pouf from its shelf on the corner-tower, then a bottle of body-wash as well. A dip of the scrubby into the bathwater to get it wet and a dollop of bodywash poured over its tufts allowed him to lather it. With her cooperation, arching her back, shifting her arms, parting and lifting her legs, Severus bathed her from throat to soles. He stroked her skin more than he scrubbed it, but Hermione didn't mind at all; she fell in love with the way he made her feel deliciously dirty, circling her breasts and her buttocks repeatedly while ostensibly making her clean.

After making her kneel up in the bathwater so he could get at all sides of her, save for the part where she squirmed the most, Severus finally dipped the wadded netting between her thighs. Needing him, needing this touch, Hermione sucked in a sharp breath, rocking onto his fingers. This was a different sort of stimulation from frotting fully-clothed by the front door; this was slick yet rough in texture, soft from the suds yet hard from his fingers. Exciting, too, for in order to balance both of them while he scrubbed her gently, intimately, Severus leaned over the rim of the tub and wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her against his bared chest.

It also made her aware that he himself smelled of sweat and dirt, and that while he had scrubbed everything of hers from her neck down...including an intimate stroking between her buttocks that had been shocking yet titillating...she had yet to get her soapy hands over the rest of him as well. Twisting in his grip, very aware that she was smearing her lathered breast against his naked flesh, Hermione met his gaze. She blushed as she did so, but she found her voice. "I think it's time you bathed, too, Severus. You got just as dirty as I did, working in the basement. And...I'd like to cleanse you all over, too."

Severus didn't know if he could trust himself if he got completely naked in the same tub as his lover. His naked, virgin lover. But to deny himself the pleasure of letting her touch him everywhere was too much to ask. Twisting to sit on the rim, he settled on a compromise by removing his shoes and socks, then stood and dropped his trousers. It gratified him that she didn't look away, that her brown eyes fastened on the actions of his hands as he released the buttons of the placket covering his groin. But only his trousers; leaving his pants in place, he stepped into the tub.

Hermione frowned softly in confusion, glancing from his dampened groin...and the thatch of dark pubic hair visible through the now somewhat translucent white cotton...to his face. "...Severus? You're, erm...still in some of your clothes. And they're getting wet."

"I know." He sighed as he sank into the spell-broadened tub at her feet; the heat of the water soaked into his thighs. "But if I remove my pants, I might go too far, tonight. I would rather not do that."

Puzzled, Hermione accepted the pouf from him, twisting to snag the bottle of bodywash to lather it up again. "Why not?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, his patience tested. Opening them when he was fairly sure he was firmly in control of himself, he gave her a sober, sincere stare. "Because I want to wait until the time is right for both of us for going that far, together."

"Oh."

Part of her was flattered by his consideration, and part of her was disappointed. Torn, she hesitated over offering to 'go that far', since her body still tingled from his lathered caresses...until her practical side piped up. You'd need a contraceptive draught first, remember? You're not taking anything, and neither of you want children right away. Clearing her throat, Hermione worked on lathering the pouf for his bath.

"Well, that's good. First we have to get the lab up and running. Then we can brew some Nihou Dze, and while that's steeping, we can get the master bedroom into shape so that we'll be properly prepared for going that far when it's the right time to, erm, go that far."

Staring at her, Severus acknowledged two things. One, that she was remarkably practical as well as intelligent, to remember the need for a contraceptive potion. Something which he himself had forgotten about. And two...that he loved her.

Blinking, he absorbed that revelation silently, and carefully considered revealing it to her. After a moment of thought, he decided to keep his mouth shut for the moment; she was a Gryffi...rather, she was occasionally brash and impetuous...since she had requested the cessation of House comparisons between them...and female. The combination would not only have her finding a declaration of love from him to be highly romantic, she'd likely fling herself at him, pepper him with kisses...and wind up deflowered in a bathtub, of all places.

While it would be a potentially amusing anecdote for future remembrances, Severus decided he would rather be a bit more traditional in both the location of her deflowering and the revelation of his feelings. That, and he would rather be practical about said revelation.

First, it was a brand-new realization. It had to be tested for validity, weighed, measured, probed, prodded, and puzzled over, since he'd never been in love with anyone before and wasn't sure if this feeling was a fluke, or even merely his imagination. Second, he knew by now that they could live together in reasonable domestic bliss, but another hurdle still awaited them: the question of whether or not they could work together in commercial bliss. Hermione's ideal for her five-year-future required that they find out if they could actually do so.

Severus wanted to give her that five-year future.

Letting her pick up his arm so that she could scrub it, Severus contemplated Hermione quietly. Her body was streaked with slowly drying soap, her hair was damp at the ends and frizzy near her scalp from the steamy heat in the bathroom, and she kept stealing little glances below his waistline. Every time she did so, a faint blush would briefly appear on her cheeks, while the tip of her tongue swept out to moisten her lips.

Thinking about those lips being moist led to the memory of those lips being soft and her tongue being wet. The next time she glanced down, her gaze lingered, studying the change in his flesh. Touching her hand, which had stilled in its scrubbing, Severus silently encouraged her to resume bathing him. He encouraged her to touch him everywhere, that was, save for the parts covered somewhat inadequately by his underclothes.

When she tried to wash him there, he moved her hands elsewhere, until only their heads and his...well, his other head...needed bathing. Pulling the drain open, Severus shifted the curtain into place and turned on the water, heating it up for a shower. They took turns scrubbing scalps and gently washing faces, but when she tried to get the scrubby into his underpants, Severus held her away from him, rinsing her under the spray. Then turned her toward the rim and patted her on her delicious, firm rump.

"Out you go."

"But, Severus..."

"Out!" he ordered firmly. "Towel off and fetch us some dressing gowns, while I clean the rest of myself. And if you see any unwanted intruders this time, do not hesitate to hex them silly."

Disappointed but knowing his choice was wise, Hermione exited the tub and dried herself with a bath towel. Wand in one hand and towel held in place by the other, she retreated to her bedroom cautiously. No one was inside, thankfully. Slipping into her bathrobe, she padded out to his room, fetched his own lounging robe, and crossed to the master bedroom.

A few moments was all it took to use the facilities; she needed to go, and didn't want the pressure making her foray into being pleasured turning into an awkward, wait-I-gotta-piddle moment later on. Taking a moment more to clean herself with a damp washcloth, Hermione returned to the other bathroom. Now that the shower was off, she could hear rain falling on the roof, making her glad they had spell-sealed the concrete of the new basement section against leaks and potential flooding.

Of course, her practical side immediately fell quiet when she returned to the bathroom and saw her ex-professor drying his genitals, one foot propped up on the lid of the toilet. His hands stopped their rubbing for a moment when he noticed her...then started rubbing again, more slowly than using a towel normally dictated. His dark eyes remained locked with hers as he did so. It was strangely erotic, watching Severus stroke himself while staring so blatantly at her.

Hermione licked her lips and held out his bathrobe. She didn't want to cover up the view, but knew they had to move things into the bedroom, lest she end up deflowered on the bathroom floor. It might make an interesting tale to embarrass their grandchildren with, but she didn't want to disrupt Severus' plans for a 'proper place and time'. With his methodical, thorough approach to everything, she knew he would make it special for both of them later if they didn't rush things tonight.

Rubbing himself one last time, Severus draped the used towel over the drying bar attached to the wall, then took the proffered garment. With the same graceful precision he had used with his teaching robes, he donned the dark dressing gown. Of course, wrapping it around his waist did nothing to hide his erection, which tented the fabric blatantly. Covering her mouth with her hand, Hermione tried not to giggle aloud. Thankfully, he took no offense, choosing to smirk just a little instead. His smile faded after a moment, replaced by an intensity that, while sober, was still softer than his usual stern stare.

"To bed with you," he ordered her softly.

Hermione shivered. It took her a moment...long enough for her to turn and leave the bathroom...to realize it was a shiver of anticipation. A pleasant sort of shiver. Entering her bedroom, she crossed to the bed, then glanced behind her. Severus was right behind her; how such a tall man could move so silently, she didn't know, but it startled her. Leaning down, he murmured in her ear.

"I said, to bed with you." It was a sensual threat and a promise rolled into one, and it was accompanied by his arms encircling her, by his fingers unknotting the sash of her dressing gown, by his hands peeling the folds of it back from her shoulders.

When the material pooled at her feet, he cupped her breasts for a moment, then her abdomen, pulling her back into his frame. Hermione could feel the hard press of his erection through the soft, velvety terrycloth of his dressing gown. She felt vulnerable, naked while he was still clothed, but not in a bad way. Not when he held her like he cherished her. Leaning her head back, she lifted her arm, twisting her head so that she could pull his mouth into range for a kiss. His fingers splayed over her abdomen; she heard him moan softly, felt the exhale of his breath, then he pulled free and pushed her toward the bed.

"Accio clean pants!"

Hermione, crawling onto her bed, glanced behind her. Severus caught the undergarment, flushing a little as he turned away from her. His robe fell open, folds hanging at his sides as he donned it, then turned back to face her. Twisting onto her hip, Hermione covered her mouth. She didn't quite succeed in muffling her giggles, but she couldn't help it; his underwear was clean and white, but it looked silly considering how he still tented the cotton y-front of his pants.

Flushing, Severus shrugged out of his dressing gown and crawled onto the bed, determined to ignore her laughter. He knew it wasn't aimed at him, that it wasn't cruelly meant...but she still deserved some sort of chastisement for it.

Lowering her hand, she smirked at him. "Still trying to protect my virtue?"

The amusement lingering in her tone was such that Severus wondered briefly if the young woman were about to say how sweet. Choosing to retaliate verbally, he purred, "No, to protect my own."

As he hoped, she laughed aloud, tossing her head back. Severus pounced, pushing her onto her back on the bedding. That made her breasts jiggle more than nicely in his opinion, for all they were mere handfuls. Deciding they needed rewarding for being so enticing, he nuzzled them with his lips, chin and cheeks. Not kissing them yet, just enjoying the softness of her curves against his face. Like a cat nuzzling something nice.

Smiling, she stroked his hair back from his face, enjoying the way he rubbed himself against her. "Nice puss...very nice puss. Did Puss-in-Boots want some milk?"

Milk. Severus froze for a moment, thinking. Breasts were designed to produce milk. Breasts thickened with pregnancy. Hermione pregnant, carrying his child.

His loins tightened sharply at the idea, forcing him to breathe hard through his nostrils for a few moments, controlling the urge to take her now and damn the consequences. But doing so meant hurting her...and they weren't married yet. There was a spell that could be cast on a bride on her wedding-night that diminished the pain of a deflowering; it was an old-fashioned, out-of-favour spell, but if he waited to claim her, it could be used.

He was certainly smart enough to know that if he conceived a bastard with her, the head of the Weasley clan would attempt to castrate him the moment she got wind of it. Minerva would, too, not just Molly. Plus there was the Potter idiot and his freckled sidekick who would take offense, causing him all manner of headaches, since he doubted Hermione would let him silence them in a truly satisfactory manner...like a one-way Portkey to Timbuktu, sans their wands.

Such thoughts were sufficiently un-sexy to quell some of his desire. Not all of it, of course; he was still buried face-first in the delicious, virginal breasts of his smart and sexy beloved. But enough that he didn't run the risk of tearing off his final garment and ripping through her hymen.

He hadn't moved for a few moments. Concerned, Hermione stroked her fingers through his damp scalp. "...Is everything alright?"

Actually, everything was perfect, with his painfully aroused status temporarily set aside. Proving it to her, Severus twisted his head just enough to lave her right breast from sternum to crest with his tongue. She sighed in pleasure, fingers delving into his hair, and he suckled at the tip of her nipple.

That engendered a squeak. Pleased, Severus licked her slowly again, then sucked once more at the peak. She moaned softly, so he turned and did it to the other side, just to be fair. He might've been an unfair bastard for far too many years, having to disguise his motives as a spy, but the Dark Lord was finally and completely dead...halleluia...and that meant he could be very fair to the maiden of his choice.

After treating her breasts to a bit of worship, Severus moved his lips to her arms. He might not have a lot of experience with women...some, but not a lot...but he'd overheard his female compatriots bitching behind their hands in the staff room over and over about how men were "...just T&A creatures, always interested in the Tits & Arse, and nothing else. God, how boring!"

He couldn't remember if it was Pomona, Rolanda, or Violetta who had stated that, but those three ladies had often gotten together for hen-sessions. Rolanda had suspected that Severus liked to sit near them to put a dampener on their conversations with his sour-faced proximity, but in truth, he had simply been curious about the feminine mind. What better way to learn than to eavesdrop on his fellow teachers?

Violetta was the first one who had confessed that having a man suckle her fingers was highly erotic; he did remember that. The others had quickly agreed. Severus was just as diligent a student now as he had been as a youth; licking Hermione's fingers, he sucked in her littlest digit as soon as it was damp enough to be swallowed into his lips. She inhaled sharply, then let it out on a moan when he mouthed her ring-finger and tongued the little web of flesh between their bases.

He didn't rush the savouring of her hand. By the time he suckled her thumb, she was squirming restlessly. When he shifted to pick up her other hand, Severus found himself shocked by her lasciviousness; she had squirmed to the point where she'd dropped her free hand between her thighs, stroking and swirling her fingertips through her moist, sensitive flesh. Nostrils flaring, he dragged her hand up to his mouth, inhaling her musky self-perfume. The scent had been strong with sweat and other things, earlier. This, however, was pure essence of woman, distilled because of him.

Something dark and hungry welled up within him. It overpowered his sensibilities, making him suckle her fingers strongly, laving her fingers for more of her scent, her taste, trying to sate his sudden hunger. But that only exacerbated the urge within him.

Discarding her hand, Severus pushes her thighs apart and buried himself face-first in the source, bracing his toes against the floor since his position left his legs hanging somewhat awkwardly off the mattress. Dimly, he heard her squeak, then gasp, but the only sound he cared about was the way she moaned within the first three laps.

It wasn't her scent, which was still a bit strong as an odor when sampled this close by his admittedly sensitive nostrils. It wasn't entirely her taste, either, though that was part of the attraction. Instead, it was the knowledge that he had made her this aroused that released something almost feral within Severus, unleashing it on her. Pure instinct drove him, tempered only by his awareness of her occasional discomfort, and goaded by those moments of increasingly expressed pleasure.

Her gasps and moans turned to wild, panting cries. He pursued her pleasure, growling into her flesh as he figuratively devoured it, from lapping strokes of his tongue to suckling pressure from his lips, and scraping little love-nips.. It wasn't until she tugged rhythmically on his hair, pulling him into her flesh, that he realized he was rocking into the mattress, nudging his thighs against the edge of the bed. Grinding his cock into the blankets in time with the hunching, bumping, humping rhythm of her nether-lips against his face.

Clutching at her hips, Severus growled into her damp folds, then held her in place while he suckled strongly on the little peak of turgid, feminine flesh. Her heels flew over his head, her spine bowing and bucking as she grunted his name. Wanting to pleasure her further, but not wanting to penetrate her with anything, Severus whispered a spell he'd heard one of the other Death Eaters bragging about. It was designed to 'flutter' this special spot inside a woman's body, analogous to the prostate gland...

She screamed and shuddered. He had just enough time to remove his face from her crotch for fear of her breaking his nose...and then liquid gushed out of her, spurting in a long, hot, musky-wet stream. Startled, Severus made the mistake of blinking. It got in his eyes, making him squeeze them shut, suddenly afraid she had just done something highly unhygienic...but the smell wasn't right for that, thank God and Merlin both. Which was good, because she managed to snag his hair and yank him back down to her crotch, gibbering with incoherent pleasure.

More liquid trickled from her body, though not with quite as much force as before. She still shuddered and grunted, gasped and bucked, growled and made a mess all over his face. Caught up in her excitement, Severus found himself humping the bed frantically. Pleasure rushed through his body, spilling into his undergarment with a strangled growl and several stomach-wrenching jerks of his own overwrought frame.

It wasn't until some of his afterglow had faded that he felt the yanking of his hair and heard her whimpering his name, begging him to stop it. To stop his spell. In fact, it sounded like she was sobbing for release from it, in fact. Alarmed, Severus cast the Cancellation Charm, tugging her fingers away from his locks. Gritting his teeth at the pain of a few lost strands, he scrambled up onto the bed, limbs trembling from exhausted satiation.

She was crying, trembling and looking utterly overwrought with her face scrunched up like that. Guilt flooded him. Severus scooted himself next to her and pulled her into his arms, unnerved by the way he had made her cry. He hadn't ever done that before...well, there was that regrettable time with her teeth and a hex, several years ago, but that didn't count, since she had run away before he'd been forced to say worse things to her, all thanks to his untenable position at the time.

Pulling Hermione into his arms, Severus did his awkward best to soothe the crying woman, murmuring her name under his breath. Under the gentle stroking of his hands, she slowly calmed; her shuddering faded, her breathing slowed, then her tension eased, leaving her a warm, damp weight against his ribs.

"I'm...I'm sorry," Severus whispered, shifting the arm not holding her so that he could stroke some of her dampened hair from her face. He felt awkward apologizing, since it wasn't in his nature, but he hadn't meant to make her cry.

Hermione sniffed, clearing some of her nostrils. She blinked sleepily against his shoulder. With her sweat and tears drying on her skin and the summer storm still pattering on the roof of the cottage, she was getting a little chilled. That had been...it was...he had...she hadn't...it completely...

"...Wow," she finally managed, and felt him shift to stare at her askance. Licking her lips, Hermione craned her head to look up at him, given how he had pillowed her cheek on his shoulder. "It...wow... Just not...not for everyday use, alright? I think I'd die, if that were for every day use."

Severus felt his brows rise sharply. "You enjoyed that?"

"Mmm. Yes. Sort of... But not," she paused to yawn, shifting closer to him, "for everyday use. Definitely. Mm...m'a little cold..."

Amazed, some of his fears melting into an astonished sort of male pride, Severus focused his mind for just enough wandless magic to summon the slender ebony shaft. A wordless flick, and the covers draped over both of them. His underpants were once again stained with male ejaculate and much of his face and chest with the female version, but he was too tired himself to go and cleanse everything. A second soundless swish removed most of the stains from their skin. Not the smells, not entirely, but the stains vanished, taking away the dampness that had plastered him from face to pants.

To be on the absolutely safe side, he Transfigured himself, too. Curling up beside her as she mumbled a complaint, he put up with her hauling his smaller, furry self against her cheek. Squirming just enough to get comfortable, Severus purrrrrred at her, soothing her into sleep. This was a bit better than staying in his masculine form. Safer, at any rate.

He couldn't do anything to her as a cat that would endanger her flamingly-tall-lettered status as a maiden, and he really liked the idea of a virgin bride. It was horribly primitive of him...not primal, but primitive...to think of her in such a way, but sometimes even a man of high intellect had to admit to himself that he still had a truly unevolved hind-brain. A wise man also kept his mouth carefully shut about such matters. Smashingly intense climax or not, he knew she'd hex him severely if he ever told her the full truth of some of the thoughts that wandered through his head. Sometimes women were perversely impossible, never knowing how to take it as a compliment that a man wanted to be their one and only lover.

Besides, just before she fell asleep, he could have sworn she mumbled the words, "...sex-god..." though Severus supposed it could have been his name instead. Envisioning it as the compliment, he purred himself to sleep, too.