A bit of fluff to follow in the footsteps of "Against All Better Judgment." In fact, that one-shot contains the beginning and the end of this episode. It is recommended that you read that piece before going on to this one.
Disclaimer: All people, places, and things belong to J.K. Rowling. I just enjoy making them do my bidding.
Many thanks, yet again, to my invaluable beta, Azazello.
The sun had just dipped below the horizon, leaving the western sky tinted with orange and violet, fading into the deep twilight overhead. Severus and Hermione walked silently beside the lake, neither of them knowing quite what to say at this… unexpected juncture in their relationship.
Fifteen minutes ago we didn't have a relationship. What were you thinking? A slight frown creased her brow, and she hoped the night was deep enough to conceal her expression. Though he didn't object. In fact, I rather think he enjoyed it….
"You're surprisingly quiet," he murmured. He shifted his arm out from under her hand, gesturing to a spot beneath the tree they'd come upon.
"Hmm?" She looked at him, blinking, and he raised his eyebrows. She sat a bit too rigidly, and he was seated beside her. "Oh, I'm just… well, I've never gone and kissed a professor before."
"Ex-professor," he said dryly.
"What?"
"Ex-professor, as you pointed out just before doing so. And I should hope not," he added. "I'm enjoying an odd feeling of self-importance right now, and I'll thank you not to ruin it." She opened her mouth to reply, but he continued. "Lead me on for a little while longer, and I promise I won't put up a fuss when you leave me and tell your friends it was all the punch."
She nudged him gently with her elbow and was rewarded with another genuine smile. "You know very well that it wasn't the punch."
He held her gaze, and the smile slowly faded from his lips. "No. But what was it, I wonder?"
He had expected her to look away, perhaps bite her lip uncertainly as she fished for an answer. Instead, she looked at him steadily, searching his eyes for a moment.
"You. Just you."
She reached a hand up to push a stray lock of hair out of his eyes, and he caught her hand in his. Her eyes widened in surprise as he gently kissed her fingertips each in turn, and he was gratified when she gasped.
Oh gods… Does he know what he's doing? He must. She closed her eyes, feeling the whisper of his lips across her palm, letting her fingers brush his cheek. His mouth touched her pulse, tickling her wrist, and she silently cursed the long sleeves of her robe.
A sudden splash snapped them out of the moment and brought Severus to his feet, wand at the ready, squinting out to the lake. He heard a choked laugh behind him and turned to Hermione, who had one hand firmly over her mouth. Her eyes were sparkling with mirth as she tried to suppress her laughter, and Severus turned back to the lake, wand pointing accusatorily at the giant squid, which surveyed them from the middle of the lake. It waved another tentacle in the air, slapping it merrily on the surface of the water before descending.
"Old habits," she said quietly, looking out over the water.
"Very," he said shortly, slipping his wand back into his sleeve. "And they're not something I care to discuss right now." When he tore his stare from the lake to look down at her, she was looking at him, still smiling faintly.
"Now that the squid has utterly ruined things," he said, assembling his scattered dignity as he sat carefully back down, "I'm afraid the mood has slipped away."
She hummed lightly in response and settled comfortably beside him, smiling as he wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her near. She leaned back against him, sighing softly. Cuddling. Who knew?
She'd half expected him to send her away after she'd laughed at him. Severus Snape was not the sort of man you laughed at – not if you valued your life. She sensed that there was a deep sensitivity within him, something he'd put away for far too long. With his intimacy, he was gifting her with a tenuous trust, and she was aware that a misstep now would end whatever it was they were developing here. She hadn't meant to laugh; the squid had startled her. That damned squid. His lips were so close, just a bit more…
"Having second thoughts?" he asked softly in the rich tone that had made her quiver against him while they danced.
"No, of course not. Why, are you?" She turned her head to look up at him warily.
"Not yet." He smiled faintly. "You are, once again, completely silent, which is entirely unlike you." His grip tightened around her waist, and she relaxed into him.
"Ah. If you must know, I'm thinking about the squid."
"And why, my dear," he murmured as his fingers stroked idly across her stomach, "would you be thinking of the squid whilst reclining in my arms?"
"No reason," she said nonchalantly, failing to suppress a shudder as his lips brushed her ear.
"Really?" He placed a chaste kiss below her earlobe.
"Mmm-hmm." Another kiss, just behind her ear.
"You're not a very good liar." He nipped her earlobe, and she drew in a sharp breath. He chuckled deeply before pressing a kiss on the side of her neck.
"I'm not lying. I'm just… distracted," she protested weakly as his lips brushed the nape of her neck and she arched involuntarily into his hands. Her head tilted back, his hands smoothing the front of her robes and coming to rest on her hips.
He hummed in agreement. "You are indeed. Do you wish me to stop?" His lips traveled to her throat as she slid languidly to lean back across his lap.
"No," she said breathlessly. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop." His hand came up to trace her cheek, and her eyes fluttered open slowly.
"I don't intend to." He lowered his head and brought his lips to meet hers.
Their first kiss had caught him off-guard, and he hadn't had the occasion to properly enjoy it. Now, however, they had nothing but time, and he intended to make the most of it. His arms wrapped about her as one of her hands made its way to his face, stroking and touching as his tongue slid across her lips. Her tongue met his as enthusiastically as before. He nipped at her lower lip, drawing it into his mouth and relishing the low moan that fell from her lips.
That he had entirely underestimated her was nothing new. He'd been doing it since they first crossed paths. She was tenacious when she'd set her mind to something. That much he'd always known, and it had been more infuriating than impressive. This was something else entirely. He could never have expected this night – that she would seek him out, rather than spending her last evening with her friends; that she would ask him to dance; that she would draw so near, and respond to his subtle cues that curiously sought a response from her. Or that she would be such an… educated kisser. She's certainly done this before. Not that you would suspect it to look at her. So outwardly conservative and beautifully ordinary. Perhaps she read about it in a book.
"Hermione," he whispered, his lips but a breath from hers. Her eyes opened lazily, meeting his. "As enjoyable as this is, I'm getting a sore neck. We're going to need to negotiate a new arrangement." Her grin was wicked as she sat up, raised her hands to his shoulders, and pushed him onto his back. I never would have suspected she had this side to her, he thought fleetingly as she did so, and he wasn't sure if he should be a little scared.
And so they found themselves lying in the grass beneath the tree, Hermione leaning over Severus and kissing him pleasantly.
"It would seem," she commented between kisses, "that we're far better at sitting in silence and kissing each other senseless than we are at talking. Should we be concerned?"
He raised his eyebrows. "I have no objection."
"Nor do I."
"Good. Now, Miss Granger, would you mind terribly if I pretended to be in charge for a while?" he asked with a smirk, and rolled to lie atop a giggling Hermione before returning to kissing her thoroughly.
"I suppose at some point," Severus said, breathing heavily, his head resting on her chest, "our relationship will indeed need to be comprised of more than just kissing by the lake." His fingers trailed idly over the hollow at her throat, tracing down the path of the few buttons he'd stealthily undone.
Hermione threaded her fingers through his hair. "I agree. So," she said with a smile, "your place or mine?"
He lifted his head and grinned devilishly down at her. "How did you become such a minx?"
"I'm anti-social, Severus, not dead."
A moment of silence passed, during which Severus's expression turned thoughtful, then darkened. "Not Potter." Hermione burst into laughter.
"No!" He considered this for a moment, and then raised an eyebrow. She shook her head, grinning. "Not Ron, either. It was nobody you know, so you can spare me the jealousy act." She lifted her head to plant a kiss on his lips, and he leaned into it before trailing kisses to her ear. She shivered, and he smiled against her skin.
"How many nobodies?"
"Honestly, Severus!" she exclaimed with a swat at his shoulder, which wasn't entirely effective, as she was quite pinned to the ground. His hands darted out to grab her wrists, and he held her hands above her head as he kissed his way down her neck, his tongue playing at the modest valley exposed by the undone buttons. She writhed beneath him, gasping, and her thigh came up to rub against… Her eyes snapped open and met his, and she noted that his cheeks were flushed. She raised her eyebrows, denying the color creeping up in her own face, and licked her lower lip thoughtfully as she moved her leg again just so – and she was rewarded with a low groan.
"Hermione," he said raggedly, with effort, and she thought idly that he needed to continue saying her name, and with great frequency. "We can't continue this here…"
"Ow!"
"Shhhh!" came a muffled voice.
Hermione's eyes widened as Severus narrowed his own.
"You've trod on my foot, you great oaf!" The whisper wasn't exactly a whisper at all. It was instead the sort of stage whisper used by very drunk teenagers trying to sneak about after hours when in the act of spying on two people who are getting down to perfectly nasty things.
"Shhhh, I said! Move your arm, Malfoy, I can't see! Where're his hands now?"
"I don't know. You figure it out… I think you've broken my toe!"
Oh dear. Hermione bit her lip, hard, trying unsuccessfully to quell the quivering of her chin. A tiny snort escaped, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Severus spared her an amused expression before rising to his feet.
He stalked, lithe and dangerous, and paused in front of the broad tree trunk. A faint rustle came from the other side.
"Wait… Where'd he go?"
"You weren't watching?"
"Still a little concerned about my foot…"
Severus looked to Hermione and raised his finger to his lips, noting her losing battle of suppressing her laughter. He reached one arm around the tree, groping, his fingers finally closing around fabric, and he yanked the Invisibility Cloak free.
Draco Malfoy was hunched over, clad in his Slytherin-green boxer shorts and white socks, and he stood on one foot while holding the other. Time stretched dramatically as the alcohol-addled Malfoy mind struggled. After a long moment, he snapped upright, pointing at the sky and stargazing intently. "As I was saying, Potty, there's the, ah, Great Foot." He poked Harry, who was utterly frozen and entirely terrified, with his free hand. "When Jupiter is in the third house and the Great Foot rises in the east, there'll be rain for four days and four nights. Then we'll all have bad luck… and locusts. And over there…" he continued as he shifted his hand, stopping short and looking at Severus with surprise – or, what would have been surprise, if accomplished by a sober individual. This… well, simply wasn't. "Oh, hullo Professor! We weren't expecting to see you, were we, Harry?" Harry worked his mouth, but no sound came forth. "And Hermione! What a nice surprise," Draco added, looking around Severus to where Hermione stood, staring fixedly at the ground, shoulders shaking. "I was just showing Potter… the… uh…" He trailed off lamely as Severus narrowed his eyes at the scantily-clad young man, and Draco suddenly realized that he might be pressing his luck.
"Indeed," said Severus, his tone flat.
"Well," said Draco, stretching his arms over his head and yawning hugely, "I think I'll be heading back to the castle now. Yeah. So. 'Night!" And he set off at a run, or as fast a jog as he could manage while limping self-pityingly, leaving Harry standing frozen in front of Severus. Severus leaned down, leveling his nose with Harry's, and dropped his voice to as sinister a pitch as he could muster.
"Run."
Harry nodded, turned, and bolted over the rise behind the tree. Severus chuckled, leaning back against the trunk, and he beckoned Hermione to him.
"You were going to leave me there!"
"Shit, Potter! Geroff!"
Hermione buried her face in his neck to smother the frustrated laughter that finally broke free. Gods, we just can't win. First the bloody squid, now them. I'm never going to see his chambers at this rate.
"Mmm… you're welcome any time," he said as he kissed her forehead, "but I wonder why you didn't just ask?" Her eyes widened and she looked at him.
"That was out loud."
He hummed and nodded, the corners of his lips lifting minutely.
"Well," she said, "I didn't want you to think that I was just trying to get into your robes."
"And you thought I'd mind?"
"Shush, you. But now that you mention it…." She smiled against his lips as they met hers briefly, and she felt a cool fabric settle against her back. "What…?"
"I think we might attract unwanted attention if you're seen entering my quarters, don't you? How nice of Potter to leave us his cloak." Severus gave her a final kiss, then moved away. "This way."
Hermione broke into a jog to keep up with Severus's long strides, and they entered the castle as the Great Hall's festivities were coming to an end. Harry was in the hallway with Ginny, gesturing wildly.
Ginny shook her head in exasperation. "Harry, Hermione is a big girl. She can look after herself."
"But his tongue was in her mouth, Gin!" Harry's gesticulations slowed as Severus approached. "And his hands… were. Erm." And he ran.
Ginny's curious gaze met with a quick glare from Severus as he strode past, and a telltale rustle of invisible fabric against the hem of her own robe brought a smirk. "'Night, Hermione," she whispered.
Severus stopped before a wooden door, just like any other in the castle, and hastily lowered the wards. He entered the room and Hermione had scarcely closed the door behind them and dropped the cloak when she found herself pushed up against the door, being kissed deeply. Their tongues danced while her fingers sought purchase on the many buttons adorning his black robes. One… two… three… … eight… nine… ten… "Bloody hell, Severus," she cried breathlessly. "They're dead sexy, but get rid of the damned buttons!" … thirteen… fourteen…
He chuckled and caught her hands in his own. "Patience, my dear. We have all night, and I mean to do this properly." His dark eyes were shining with lust, and had she not already been light-headed from the most-unexpected evening, this admission might have done the trick.
"Patience, indeed. May I remind you that you were the one who had me up against the door just now."
He smiled at this and regarded her carefully. "That may be. But undressing a lover is something to be done slowly. It is to be savored. Every. Last. Moment." He punctuated each by sliding loose a button loose at her breast, picking up where he had left off beside the lake. "And make no mistake," he murmured, drawing near and dropping his lips to her ear, "I intend to make you my lover tonight."
Hermione drew in a sharp breath as a shiver slid down her spine. He kissed her ear gently, then her jaw, and drew back once again.
"How rude of me. You wanted to see my chambers, and here we are still at the door. Shall we?"
The tour was brief. In fact, no talking, nor looking, nor wandering took place at all. The two walked rather pointedly from the door to the bedchamber, hands and fingers entwined. Had she been so inclined, Hermione could have looked around in wonder at the antique furnishings, the engraved mahogany, the rich upholstery, and the inlaid stone hearth at the focus of it all. She might have marvelled at the exquisite rugs and tapestries, and surely would have gaped at the extensive collection of ancient leather-bound texts, unavailable anywhere but in the finest of libraries. But she wasn't, so she didn't. Upon entering the bedchamber, she had the fleeting thought of Oh my, more green, but that thought was quickly removed by another kiss.
Hermione did, however, observe the rich texture of the duvet, hastily left covering the bed as her nude body made contact with it, and the softness of the mattress as she arched her back to stretch luxuriously. She also noticed that the ceiling was not unlike that of the Great Hall – charmed with the brilliant night sky at hardly the wave of a wand. She didn't notice these for long, as even the most ostentatious surroundings couldn't possibly replace the wonder of that, and she swore that it was enormous and briefly wondered at a few anatomical matters before succumbing once again to tactile pleasures.
And last, but certainly not least, she noted that this was a million times better than her experiences with Claude, the Muggle boy from back home who swore he'd show her how good an orgasm could be before finishing prematurely, falling asleep, stealing the covers and drooling on the pillow. Perhaps even two million. And she told Severus this after he again asked if she was sure he didn't know them, lest he need to hex them from the face of the earth.
After turning back the covers and naming each star in the conjured sky, the two fell into an exhausted – but contented – sleep.
Hermione woke the next morning with the unfamiliar feeling of being pinned down by… a leg? Some sort of meaty limb-type thing, but she couldn't be sure, lying as she was: face-down in a manly-smelling pillow and sprawled comfortably across a much larger bed than she was accustomed to. She hastily sorted her thoughts – Ohhh yes… – then smiled as she opened her eyes. Glittering black eyes looked back in the half-light of the room, and a hand reached to smooth her hair back from her face.
"Good morning," he said after a moment. His voice was every bit as lovely in the early morning as in the dark of night.
"Morning," she sighed, continuing to smile. She reminded herself sternly that she would look like a grinning fool if she didn't pick a different expression soon. "What time is it?"
"Well past breakfast and onto lunch time, most likely. I'm sure Messrs Potter and Malfoy have seen to the rumor mill on our behalf – if they woke in time for breakfast at all."
"Mmm. Perhaps we should take our meals in today?"
Severus raised an eyebrow. "I take it you're not planning to call at the university this afternoon?"
"Well, last night rather complicated things." She rolled onto her side, and Severus took the opportunity to pull her close, dropping a kiss on her lips. "Yesterday, all I wanted was to get out into the world and learn everything it had to offer. Today… well, it seems there's plenty to learn about right here. I don't think my education will suffer if I delay it a few days."
"Right here?"
She hummed. "Right here." She wrapped one leg around his waist and smiled at his mildly bewildered, yet entirely pleased expression.
"I think I can make arrangements for several days of lessons. In fact, I believe I might have enough coursework for a week, more if we go into the field," he remarked as he rolled on top of her. "And then, of course, there are detentions…"
"Sounds educational. I may need to change my summer plans. It wouldn't do to miss even a moment," she said, sliding her arms around him.
"You know, I've never had a student so eager for lessons before."
"You've never taught a student such lessons before." She kissed him deeply, then drew back and narrowed her eyes. "Have you?"
He paused a moment before answering, "Nobody you know."
A/N: Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review! It means a great deal to me, and it's terribly encouraging.