Time of the Season

**Warning** Straight up SMUT

It's the time of the season
When love runs high
And this time, give it to me easy
And let me try with pleasured hands

To take you in the sun to (promised lands)
To show you every one
It's the time of the season for loving

-The Zombies

Hermione woke to an awful, sandpaper-like feeling across her nose. As she blinked away the sleep, she was welcomed by her orange familiar uncharacteristically licking her nose. He breathed heavily as he gazed unblinkingly down at his Mistress, a soft paw out stretched against her face. Crookshanks let out a crunchy meow as his paw proceeded to tap her.

"He ate. Don't let the beast fool you," came Snape's voice from just outside the door. She looked around to see she was laying on the bathroom floor still, though her body was covered in a blanket. When she stood, she saw the tub was cleaned and sparkled, no sign of the dark magic or healing herbs tarnishing it. "I'll make breakfast."

She felt strange energy in the house, something unspoken and growing, but she chose to ignore it as she shut the door and undressed to bathe. The darkness may have been gone from Snape's wound, but Hermione felt it crawling over her like a swarm of ants. She shook the thought and popped the showerhead on, stepping in and relishing in the scalding water that cascade over her. As she began to massage shampoo through her hair, she paused and closed her eyes, finding comfort in a brief memory of Snape's fingers caressing her scalp. She allowed herself a smile.

As Hermione approached the kitchen, she could smell the overwhelming aroma of coffee and pancakes. She inhaled and inwardly groaned, her stomach growling with every step. She turned the corner and paused, her lips parting slightly at the sight before her.

Severus was in loose trousers and a knit Henley top, the sleeves rolled up so she could see every muscle move as he was cutting strawberries. He looked relax, his broad shoulders slack as he leaned lazily against the island. His inky hair was pulled back loosely and haphazardly, and as her eyes roved over him, she smiled at his bare feet against the marble. Her heart fluttered in her chest in a familiar way, but when the anxiety and guilt of her past began threatening, something else defended her. She felt the warmth rush over her body and blush her cheeks, and the restraint she had felt for so long broke.

"I care about you," said Hermione—or rather blurted. She snapped her mouth closed and pursed her lips, her arms cautiously wrapping around herself. Severus stopped his chopping, laid the knife down and looked up at her; Hermione nearly lost her breath at the sparkle she saw within those deep pools that she spent her youth seeing emotionless. They were full of something that made her heart swell. She stepped closer, slowly closing the space between them. Severus straightened and she could see his hands were curled so tightly his knuckles were white.

"I care about you as well, Hermione," he said quietly, looking down at her. She studied his face and saw no lie—how could she possibly? He has had nothing short of her well-being at mind countless times, no matter how unruly he could be. "More so than I care to admit, actually."

Hermione released a breath of relief, her arms falling to her side as she continued to draw closer. "More so than you care to admit?"

She was so close he could smell her body soap and hair products ascend from her; he could count every freckle and scar that etched across her face like tiny constellations of warring gods. Her face told so many stories, both with her mask and without, but in that moment, Severus could read every emotion that flickered across her features. And it made his heart skip a beat.

Slowly, he pulled her closer, his hands dancing lightly at her nape; his leaned his head sideways and offered her a lazy smile, which only squeezed at the girl's heart more.

"Yes," was all he said. She frowned slightly. "You've become very important to me."

What am I saying?, Snape thought, mentally groaning and berating himself. He felt unsure then, wishing he kept his mouth shut and continued this charade.

"You are important to me, too, Severus," said Hermione. The man laughed despite himself, shaking his head.

"Well, I'm glad we are both on the same page then," he said, slight bitterness in his voice as his hand fell from her form and back to the food. He was surprised when her small hand grabbed his and tugged. He raised a brow at her.

"I'm not good at this sort of thing…anymore," she breathed, squeezing his hand in both of hers. "I-I am not a whole woman, Snape, I have many scars. I've been broken countless times. But you know that—you've been through it yourself. And I've shown you, yet you're still here."

"To be fair, I am also still here because someone took an Unbreakable Vow," he snorted, earning himself a half-annoyed eye roll from the young lioness. He fought a smirk.

"I don't mean here here, I meant…with me. Beside me." She paused, then brought his hand to her chest. He stiffened at proximity of his hand he only ever dreamt of being, until he felt the erratic pounding of her heart against his palm, a beat off from his own pulse. "I care about you, Snape. The way I cared about Ron."

Snape was beside himself, and it took only a brief moment for his restraint and internal chains to unhinge. He descended on her, craning down to capture her lips once more. His hands cupped her face and his thumbs ran gentle circles on her prominent cheek bones before trailing to her lower back and pulling her close. Hermione quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her chest against his, breathing heavily before prying his lips with her tongue and exploring his strawberry flavored mouth; she elicited a quiet moan from the man that shot straight between her legs. She pulled away, chest heaving.

"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered. "We don't…"

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to," breathed Snape, slowly moving his arms from her. She grew close again, not allowing his embrace to escape her. "You're in control here, Hermione. You always will be."

Hermione eyed him curiously for a moment, once again looking for signs of deceit and finding none; she carefully ascended to the tips of her toes before her hands found his collar, pulling his face down to meet her swollen lips, and she put every feeling she could recognize but couldn't verbalize into kissing him once more. It was agonizing slow and full of a passion Snape never felt before; tender and explorative, with a hint of the rush he knew they were both fighting against. His hands held her waist tightly, then descended over the full mounds of her bottom to lift her up onto the kitchen island; she let out a laugh of surprise and he smiled against her erotic mouth. Snape's skilled fingers danced across her body, up her nape, and into her ringlets, pulling her head back gently to expose the soft skin of her neck. He trailed slowly down her cheek before planting open mouthed kisses across her pulse point and shoulder. A small gasp escaped her, and when her legs wrapped themselves around his waist like a vice grip, he knew he was done for.

"Hermione," he breathed, pulling from her for a moment. Her eyes fluttered open, disappointed at the loss of contact. "Tell me to stop, Hermione. And this doesn't have to go any further."

Hermione tightened her legs once more, causing the man to groan. Her voice was barely a whisper, full of liquid sex and need. "No."

That was all he needed. Before he knew it, they were in the hallway and his shirt was flung, caught on the bannister as he was pushed towards his chamber by a small yet powerful (and very aroused) witch. She assaulted his lips, neck and chest with her delicious mouth, her hands exploring the ridges of his back and broad chest. As they grew closer, he lifted her once more, his hands firmly grasping and caressing her bottom as his mouth sucked on the delicate skin at the base of her neck and shoulder. She whined softly, a sound that pulled at his balls and pulsated through his member. He pinned her against the wall beside his doorway and ran his hand under her top and over her breasts, softly caressing them through her lacey number; he was rewarded with an airy sigh and her heat grinding against his own.

"Bed," croaked Hermione, her back arching against the wall. Snape didn't need to be asked twice.

He carefully laid her on his perfectly made bed, standing above her almost nude form. She laid bare in just her underwear, and he could see her pert nipples erect through her lace black bra, calling for his mouth to tend to them. But he waited, his eyes dancing across her body and appreciating the beauty before him. Her body was riddled with scars and discoloration, not much different from his own. Her stomach and thighs were soft and curved, as was her ass from what he earlier felt—she was Aphrodite incarnate gracing his chambers. When his eyes returned to her face, he noticed she, too, was appreciating his form above her. She blinked and eyes widened for a brief moment of being caught ogling, until they both laughed at the incredulity of that after everything that has happened up til now.

Snape leaned onto the bed, his mouth descending on her supple thighs as he kissed and licked his path to her mouth. He groaned and felt his arousal harden as he smelled the sweet nectar radiate from the apex of her thighs. He kissed her mound over her sheer panties, causing her to quiver and tighten her thighs. He looked up at her.

"May I?" he asked, his voice dripping with need. Her eyes darkened and she nodded, but not before freeing herself of her bra. Snape slid his body across her, hoisting himself up by his elbows, and gently cupped her breasts, slowly and cruelly toying with her nipples. He caught one between his teeth and felt her jolt under him, her back arching, urging him to mouth more.

He obeyed, teasingly slow.

His hand kneaded and squeezed, trading off between the two supple mounds of flesh. Between touch and the gentle sounds that escaped the woman under him, Severus was in pure euphoric ecstasy; he watched her watch his every move, her eyes heavily following his trek across her chest. Her face softened slightly, and she entwined her fingers in his hair, holding him close to her chest, before pulling him in for another kiss.

"Severus…" she said softly. He rolled her nipple under his fingers again, earning yet another airy sigh. "I want all of you."

He stopped for a moment, their face mere inches from one another, with reality truly setting in.

He would set the world on fire for Hermione Granger, if she asked.

Severus could feel her stomach twitch under his touch as he slid his hand down her front, gently brushing the tips against her panty line. Hermione's legs were relaxed as she spread herself slightly—an invitation Snape could have howled to the Gods for. He slipped an eager finger into her heat and was overwhelmed by the sticky warmth that greeted him. Finding her bundle of nerves, Snape encircled long and wide around it and watched her face for a reaction. Hermione's thighs twitched and hips rolled to meet his touch as her hands grasped his forearms tightly; she was not prepared to feel pleasure like this—or any pleasure, really—ever again, and her body felt like fire. Rolling her head to the side, she pressed gentle kisses against the pulse of his other wrist, her brows furrowed with emotion.

Curling his finger downward, Snape slid through her folds and worked his fingers within her, inserting one then another, slowly pumping in and out, in and out, until he thrust knuckle deep and curved his digit against her g-spot. He could feel her walls tighten around him and he let out an audible moan.

"Fuck, Hermione, you feel amazing," he muttered in a low voice before withdrawing his hand from her, sliding down to her apex and removing her panties. Her musk was sweet and unique to her, and it enthralled him the moment he smelled it and saw it. Her sex glistened with the wetness he caused, which only stroked his primal nature to a boiling point. He eagerly pressed his nose against her, eliciting a gasp of surprise, before running his tongue flat against her from cunt to clit, savoring every drop on his taste buds. He thought he couldn't harden more, but Hermione released a long, sensual moan and rose her hips against his face, he thought he would come right then and there.

Still, he paced himself—he wanted to make sure she felt every bit as good as she deserved before anything. Snape rested his palms on her inner thighs, massaging her up to her hip bones as his tongue worked gentle laps against her clit. He circled her slowly, gauging the pressure off her body language and vocals, tearing away to slide his tongue within her when her breathing grew erratic; replacing his tongue with his fingers, he thrust them within her once more and sucked her clit into his mouth fervently. He groaned when he felt her walls tighten around him once more, yet no release. When he felt her hands touch his head, he stopped for a moment and looked at her with question but was completely blindsided by the wild form before him. Her chest and face were red with the rising heat, breasts heaving up and down, and her hair a wild mane around him.

"I want you, Snape," she breathed. Before Snape could react, the girl slid her legs under her and crouched before him, placing a firm hand against his chest and pushing him down against the bed. Severus obeyed and fought hard to conceal both his excitement and nervousness. Hermione crawled over him like a predator, kissing and licking over his chest teasingly, which caused an involuntary growl to escape the man's chest. She stopped for a moment with her lips slightly parted as a light giggle erupted from her. A sexy one, at that. She straddled him and bowed down to cup his face.

Severus felt his breath leave him as if from a blow to the chest. Her eyes held such deep emotion, it practically radiated from her; Hermione stroked his cheek bones with eager hands, her eyes zipping across his face and brows pulled in a familiar way from her childhood, when her nose was stuck in a large tome before exams; Hermione was cataloguing his features of this exact moment, the way his jaw was relaxed, almost slack, and the slight upturn curve of his lips; the prickly stubble that tickled her hands, and unguarded eyes.

Her mouth broke into a soft and warm smile that turned into a Cheshire cat grin when she sank on his length; she quivered as they both moaned in mutual pleasure. Snape's hands rested on her lower back, smoothing over her ass and grasping it firmly as she rose and sank, meeting his deep thrusts in rhythm. Hermione huffed as she supported her hands against chest, her head thrown back in pure bliss as she rolled her hips and rode. She mewled and gasped when he slipped deeper, hitting her insides at just the right angle, causing her arms to give way and melted against him, chest to chest. Snape shifted down and angled his hips up more, allowing himself better access to her hot core and moaned at the feeling and sound of her cheeks against his skin. One hand still on her bottom and the other deep in her hair, Snape pulled her face to him and shoved his tongue against her own as the pressure built up between them, pulling away only here and there for a gasp of breath.

"Oh, Severus!" gasped Hermione as she spread her legs wider, desperately clinging to the friction against her clit and depth of his length within her. The sound of skin smacking on skin was further arousing, and echoed in mix with his grunts and her panting. "Yes…yes, yes, yes."

"Come for me, Hermione," he commanded softly in her ear. It was all she needed. Snape saw stars when her walls contracted around him in a vice grip, pressure shooting around his head and bringing forth his own orgasm. His pulsing and her tightening fought for dominance between their cores, and Snape rode out the pure ecstasy in long, hard strokes as she came around him. Hermione's song grew louder with every wave of pleasure as she met his shaft in full.

"Fuck!" he growled, capturing her panting mouth with his own, his thrusts slowing as his legs shook with electricity.

There she lay next to him, entwined his in arms and body: a wild-haired, fallen angel entangled in white sheets, her perfect mouth slightly open as she slept soundly. A true vision. His eyes rolled over her form with great appreciation and want that he could feel his arousal heating up again. He stifled it, just wanting to bask in the sight of a beautiful woman that he, no longer regrettable so, ended up caring for; a woman who saw him for who he was but, most of all, who he has become, for they were not so different after all. His comforting solitude countries away could not hold a light to the warmth he now felt radiating in his chest as he mulled over the soft and patient happenings of the night.

Hermione Granger. She is what is familiar now. Perhaps more than that, he thought as memories of their time shared the last half year lit his mind's eye. It seemed so long ago that he was at the sticky end of her resentment that he smiled now to think of it. Pressing a gentle kiss to her head that rested against his chest, he soon allowed sleep to beckon him—even if it was almost noon.

A/N: Phew. Uh, Surprise?