Trophy

Disclaimer: JKR owns the rights to anything you recognize in this fic. I wish I did, but alas! Life is like a box of Bertie Bott's. Sometimes you get chocolate fudge, sometimes you get earwax.

Credit: Credit goes to my wonderful beta, Tevildo, for cleaning up my horrible punctuation and grammar. Any errors that remain after he is done with a chapter, are solely my own. Feel free to pelt me with cauldron cakes for these.

AN: Yup, children and internet connections will always make a liar out of you. This would have been up last night, but my radio connection died in the last few paragraphs' beta-ing. I hate it when life makes me keep my loyal readers on tenterhooks! Just one more installment to go, so enjoy.

His fingers were tight around her upper arms, but judging from the enthusiasm she was returning the kiss with, it was an unnecessary precaution. Her tongue had gladly accepted the invitation in and was presently erotically entangled with his.

Oh God! His need was overwhelming her senses. All she could focus on was his mouth and the now insistent hardness pressing against her hip. She basked in the sharp intake of breath when she gripped him, purring and pressing her body against his, certain that she saw the almost imperceptible edge of his pupil dilate to its fullest extent with lust.

As one hand roughly fondled a breast that had escaped her dressing gown, eliciting moans of pleasure from its owner, the other firmly traced the curve of her spine, onto her hip, down over her luscious ass and coming to rest on the tender flesh just under it. His ribs were in agony as he half sat up to continue his assault, gentle pressure from his hand urging her to straddle him.

Needing no more prompting, she slung her leg over his narrow hips but hovered just out of reach. The smooth head of his cock was resting against her inner thigh, dribbling small amounts of wetness onto her skin with each impatient twitch. "Hermione... please..." his voice had an eerily desperate edge to it, his hand now clutching at her bottom, trying to lower her onto his throbbing erection.

'Please don't stop... not now... so close' was dashed from his mind as she descended, allowing him to sink balls-deep into her grasping warmth. He growled lustfully, kissing her fiercely but placing a restraining hand on her hip to keep her still until he had calmed down somewhat. Wrapping her legs around him, he cradled her on his crossed legs, kissing each shoulder as he slipped her dressing gown off.

As if prearranged, they started a sensual dance; the steps they had practiced in the hallways finally coming together. Heading towards a common goal, they sped up, their groans and gasps often echoing each other, each moving with consummate precision. Her whimpers ratcheted up in pitch as he liberally tasted her neck, her chest, her painfully hard and enticingly pink nipples; the slip-sliding friction escalating in urgency as they both neared their climax.

He was the first to break, a strangled grunt preceding the sharp involuntary upward thrust of his hips. His hand darted in, skilfully playing over her slick clit like a master violinist, his reward almost as musical to his ears as Hermione cried out her release; her cunt clutching greedily at his still-pulsing cock, making him gasp anew.

Both wrapped around and within the other, they rode out the twitches, spasms, and delicious shudders that claimed their post-orgasmic bodies. Falling back onto the bed, he held her to him as they panted, running his hands over the smooth skin of her back. All she could do was listen to his heart racing in his chest in perfect tandem with the loud pounding of her own.

She felt a gentle touch on her chin and rose up to respond to the unspoken request, languidly kissing Severus, stroking the fingers of her free hand through the hair fanned out on the pillows underneath him.

Hermione broke off when she felt him cringing – the realization that she was leaning rather heavily on his ribs finally dawning. To her surprise, he lifted slightly off the bed to give her another quick kiss before settling back.

"Sorry," she murmured, her eyes darting around his face trying to avoid the smouldering look he was levelling at her. "I'm hurting you." She shifted her weight, sitting back on her heels and plucking self-consciously at the rumpled sheets.

"You excel at that, Hermione. It is what makes you... endearing." He smirked at her frown – his comment had been intentionally ambiguous. Severus found that the only way to stay in control with this woman was to keep her unbalanced, keep her from thinking. As he felt a renewed twitch in his groin, he could think of many more ways to keep her... distracted.

"I should... take care of this," Hermione muttered, indicating the bandages around his chest. "If they get infected, I will never hear the end of it." She shot him a small smile. She wasn't sure how he did it – a short while ago she would have happily hexed his balls off, but now she had decidedly different plans for them. If she just kept busy she might calm down enough to regain the upper hand.

Judging from the way her pulse sped up once she had uncovered his pale chest – she was losing this round. Simultaneous gasps from the competitors when she lightly ran her hands over the healing bruises evened the score. Taking a deep steadying breath she started rubbing the twins' bruise ointment into Severus' skin.

"Does it hurt?"

"Only when I breathe," he quipped. "With luck, the side-effects of the potion will soon wear off, and the pain-reliever helps." He was lightly running his hand up her arm, stopping at the first deep laceration the owl's talons had left. "You should tend to yourself. It would not do for such a pretty young thing to be scarred."

She eyed Severus warily. Even though he was lying back against the pillows, his naked body nonchalantly sprawled over her bed, there was a certain alertness about him that made her very nervous, as if he was waiting for an opening. He seemed to be able to switch his emotions on and off at will – one moment shouting at her, the next being so sweet that she hardly recognized him. His unpredictability caused a certain giddy anticipation (or was it dread?) within her. He appeared harmless enough; the stubble on his face reducing his usual fierce persona to something less intimidating, somehow more human.

But she wasn't fooled.

"Why do you play these games, Severus?" she asked quietly, not daring to meet his eyes, knowing she would forget her intent if she drowned in those depths again.

She was thinking again – this would not do. Ignoring her question, he tutted and turned her face to him. "Such a nasty cut. If you will not take care of yourself, allow me." Pushing himself upright, he turned his attention to the collection of bottles on the dressing table. He was sure he smelt Murtlap before. His questing fingers brushed over polished wood; it sent a tingle up his arm – his wand. Perfect. Picking up the bottle of Murtlap Essence and a spare length of bandage, he turned back to Hermione.

"Come closer, my sweet. Let us get that cut seen to."

"I asked you a question." She wasn't going to let him worm his way out of this one, she didn't trust his calm at all. He had all the air of a snake waiting to strike; his indulgent smile mere false reassurance. She batted his hand and the soaked cloth away. He easily snatched her wrist and she gasped at the deceptively strong grip, though the touch to her forehead was very gentle.

"I play these 'games', Hermione, because I like winning," he said, not a drop of remorse on his lips as he pressed the bandage to her wound. "I play these 'games' because they are exciting, because they make me feel alive." He leaned in close to her, his voice dropping an octave into a thrumming purr. "Did they not thrill you? Did you not enjoy them? Think carefully before you lie to me now."

She shivered as his hot breath washed over her cheek and shoulder. He was right. The seduction had been the most erotic, and most frustrating, thing she had ever experienced. He had made her yearn for unspeakable things with the lightest of touches, the most cursory of glances. She had never felt so alive: every minute of it had been steeped in intense desire for and from this man. "Yes..."

He smiled against her neck as she arched to his touch on her back. "Do you think rules are important?"

She hesitated. "Yes."

"Should rule-breakers be punished?"

She was squirming in discomfort now, but he held her fast. "Well, it really depe-"

"Yes or no, Hermione?"

She stiffened in his arms. "...yes."

"Good." Taking her down with him, he rolled her onto her back, his body half covering hers. Nuzzling her neck, he murmured, "My sweet, sweet thing. My reward."

She sighed in relief as Severus kissed her passionately, and relaxed into his ministrations. 'How utterly silly!' Hermione thought. She had been afraid that something horrible had been about to happen, but who could have guessed at the true sensual depth of the man currently feasting on her nipples, plucking at them with his lips, teasing them into evermore pleasurably painful peaks. His intensity just took some getting used t-

She froze when she felt a wandtip cold and still against the hollow of her throat.

He was lazily kissing his way back up her chest, pressing a peck against her unresponsive lips. "So sweet... so very sweet," he breathed, licking and then nibbling at her chin. "One might almost regret this course of action, but a lesson must be learnt. You have always stood by the importance of education, haven't you, my sweet?" He looked into her eyes, wide with shock, her pupils terrified pinpricks in the brown depths. She didn't say anything, didn't breathe, didn't move.

A small flash of magic arced between the tip of his wand and her skin.

He smiled down at her. "I knew you would agree."

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