3 Libras

Thank you to everyone who reviewed and insisted that I continue this. I figured I would wrap everything up in two more smutty chapters, and that's all you're getting.

Major thanks to my beta Amanda (mysticsong)

Disclaimer: It all belongs to J.K. Rowling, I just like playing with her creations. "3 Libras" belongs to A Perfect Circle, more specifically Maynard James Keenan

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Hermione padded through the kitchen at number twelve, Grimmauld Place intent on having some tea and maybe making a bit of breakfast for herself. The anniversary celebration would have gone far into the night, and so she was sure she would see no one for quite some time. A rather pleased smile filled her face as she thought about her own special activities from the night before; she filled an ancient kettle with water and placed it on the stove before gathering what she would need while the water heated. Moving around the kitchen, her thoughts strayed back to last night, and she wondered if he had attended the party or if he had skived off as he usually did. Pushing a hand through her unruly hair, she scolded herself for spending any thoughts on him. It never did any good; he would never see her as anything but an "insufferable know-it-all," ‘the brain of Gryffindor,’ and she frowned with the thought.

It irked her. It truly did. There were times she wasn’t quite sure, since she knew she wasn’t one of those girls that were noticed for their looks, but it bothered her all the same. She had thought they had gotten on rather well when they worked together during the war. Moreover, their working relationship had continued after the war had ended and he found himself in need of a lab partner for his business.

He hadn’t changed particularly, he was still the same surly bastard she remembered from her school days. However, there were times when he was kinder to her. And she had really found their talks about the various professional journals or even simple fiction books they had read very enjoyable. She thought she had often made it perfectly plain how she felt about him. ‘Doesn’t matter what House a man belongs to, they all have to be hit over the head before the obvious becomes clear to them,’ she mused.

Threw you the obvious

And you don't...see....me

Hearing the kettle shriek, she removed it and poured herself a cuppa. Deciding to forego making anything at the moment, she turned to sit down at the table and found herself staring into the onyx eyes of the very man that had her so vexed.

"Professor Snape...um...good morning."

"Good morning, Miss Granger." He moved just past her, reaching for the kettle and carefully pouring the water into a cup.

Hermione worried her bottom lip, trying to come up with something to say. She hadn’t expected to see him here; he never came to the anniversary party, and she never would have expected him to stay the night. Clearing her throat, she moved to lean against the ancient table. "I didn’t expect." She stopped at the quirk of his eyebrow. "Did you enjoy the party last night?"

"Not particularly so, no. Too much noise. Young Mister Weasley seemed most saddened that your headache took you away so early." Severus’s lips twisted into a smirk.

Heat seemed to flood Hermione’s cheeks as he spoke of the lame excuse she had given Ron for buggering off so early. Truth be told, she hadn’t seen the sense in being around so much noise when the object of her desire wasn’t going to be around. It made more sense to go and lay down in a place that he had once been and try to read. The reading turned into an earthier sort of activity. "I’m normally not much for all the drinking and noise. It seemed nicer to turn in before it became too raucous."

"Indeed. It was slightly off-putting to find a student in my usual rooms." He looked at her with an odd burning in his eyes.

‘He didn’t, he couldn’t, oh Merlin, please tell me he didn’t see me doing what I was doing last night.’

"An ex-student," she stressed.

"An ex-student then," he graced her with the ghost of a smile.

But I threw you the obvious

Eyes of a tragedy

It felt almost as if she were talking to another Snape. There hadn’t been barbs on taking his rooms, but she could feel something between them. The almost pregnant pauses and the sense that they were both trying not to address the discernible about what she had been doing in what almost everyone in the Order had known were his rooms. Racking her brain, trying vainly to remember if she had cast a locking charm on the door or a silencing spell, she gulped her hot tea, almost scalding her throat. Watching him as she struggled not to choke, she turned to set her cup down. Turning back around, she found he had moved, silently trapping her between his body and the table.

Here I am expecting just a little bit

See you

She noticed now that he lacked his usual flowing robes, the buttons on his frock coat reminding her of the fantasy that had had her writhing on his bed where the sheets had still carried a soft smell of potions ingredients, sandalwood and the slight tang of sweat. The slight press of his body reminded her of how very little she had on, clad in just pyjama bottoms and a worn tank top. She had only planned to get a cup of tea, maybe a few nibbles before going back upstairs. She hadn’t thought she would encounter anyone.

But she had. Looking up into his eyes, she met his stare. And there was something there that hadn’t been there before. The desire there, the frankness of how his body pressed into hers, had her longing for everything that she had imagined last night. Pressing herself slightly against him, waiting for him to bark at her, asking her what did she think she was doing, it was all for naught. He continued to look at her, as if seeing her for the first time. Hermione licked her suddenly dry lips and watched as his eyes tracked the course of her tongue.

Cause I threw you the obvious

Eyes of a tragedy

The pair continued to stare at each other, the air filled with electricity before they both moved together. His lips crashing against hers, her arms snaking upwards to latch onto his shoulders and their bodies straining towards one another. The kiss seemed to go on forever. His hands drifting from her waist, one slowly trailing up her spine before nestling into her hair, allowing him to dominate the kiss. And she revelled in it, waiting for the moment when she would wake from this dream, or the real Snape would appear and begin belittling her for being a silly girl. The kiss broke as they both gasped for air, but the words that she had been expecting never came. No, his mouth drifted across one cheek and trailed down her neck. Nibbling, licking, lightly sucking on her sensitive skin, as her fingers seemed to burrow even further into his hair. Finally, he captured her lips again, and she ground her hips into his and felt a thrill at his evident desire. Her actions seemed to drive him further, their lips and tongues mimicking what their bodies could be doing. She felt the edge of the table dig into her back, as their shared moans echoed in the room. Once more coming up for air, she suggested the obvious as his harsh breath filled her ear as his lips tugged on an earlobe. "Go... back... my room?

He gave her a smouldering glance before he answered. "My room."