Chapter 2 Forgetting Ron

Snape carried Hermione into his bedroom and fell into the bed with her. They both went at the other's robes desperately, arms tangling as feet pushed off shoes and trainers. Snape wore nothing under his robes other than briefs. Disrobing Hermione was a bit more complicated since she had on jeans and a t-shirt, but Snape made short work of them with the witch's help.

Hermione was lost under Snape's passionate kisses and caresses, pleading with him to make her forget Ron and Lavender as his mouth moved over her. She pulled the tie off his ponytail so his lank black hair fell around his face, dragging over her skin as he familiarized himself with her body. He had a lover's touch, gentle but masculine. His body was slender, pale and scarred from his service to the Dark Lord, sparse black hair on his arms, legs and lower belly. Sexually, nature had been quite kind, and the wizard's cock was something to lie down and take notice of, long, thick and uncircumcised, silken black hair surrounding the base.

"Your husband is mad," he said softly as he rolled to his back, pulling Hermione on top of him and once again claiming her mouth with his own. His hands slid down her back, over the curve of her buttocks and down her thighs appreciatively before returning the way they came, locking in her mane of curly brown hair. They rolled over again, arms and legs tangling as they kissed, Snape finally rising to his hands and knees and passionately licking, kissing and suckling every part of her undulating body, the scent and taste of it working him into a fury as his mouth moved over her skin, lingering on her breasts and hardened peaks, his tongue swirling and sliding between them as he grasped her wrists and extended her arms above her head, holding her down and taking his pleasure of her.

Hermione arched deliciously as he moved over her belly, releasing her wrists as he lowered himself to the bed and gently parted her thighs, blowing on her sex softly, his warm breath tickling and stimulating her core before he kissed it reverently.

"Absolutely mad," he breathed, closing his eyes and partaking of Hermione's sweetness. He was careful, gentle and thorough, using his lips, teeth, tongue and nose to drive the witch wild and any thought of her no-good husband out of her head as she tugged on Snape's hair fitfully, crying out at his ministrations until he brought her to a shuddering orgasm around his tongue.

As Hermione rode her wave of bliss, the Potions master turned her over, lifting her buttocks so she was on her knees, her head resting on the mattress. He smoothed one pale hand over her rounded cheeks, his dark eyes smoldering as he looked down at her.

Once again he breathed "Mad" before he entered the jilted wife of Ronald Bilius Weasley, her welcoming wet warmth wrapping around him as he buried himself deep inside her, falling still for a moment before he leaned over her, connected now, bringing his lips close to her ear.

"How I envied him this, Hermione," the Potions master said, winding his pelvis slightly so Hermione could feel him. "I envied your husband for having access to your body while I only had access to that brilliant mind."

Snape slowly drew back and entered her again, with a tender stroke that made her sigh with pleasure. He was bigger than Ron and felt so good curled over her and inside her. Snape kissed her shoulder.

"Did you know?" he asked her softly, drawing back and stroking her again, still gentle but this time pressing forward until she groaned slightly from the pressure. He was so deep.

"No," Hermione whispered.

Snape caressed her hair and kissed her temple before drawing back again, his shaft sliding deliciously inside her, thick, hard and hot, then returning to rest deep inside her. She never had this kind of sex before. Her only partner had been Ron, and he was never patient or slow. He never stopped to talk to her.

"You are beautiful, Hermione," Snape breathed, "and accomplished. A prize."

Hermione let out a moan as Snape slowly stroked her again, his loins hitching against her buttocks, jerking her with a bit more power.

"You haven't lost anything. Your husband has," he hissed. "Something precious and irreplaceable. Forget him, witch. I will help you forget him."

Snape leaned over further, capturing Hermione's mouth with his own and kissing her deeply and passionately before he straightened and grasped her waist.

"Starting now," he purred, drawing back and proceeding to take Hermione around the world a stroke and position at a time, strong and thorough in his possession of her, kisses and caressing as much a part of the act as his sex. Hermione was rolled and curled, straightened and bent, twisted and turned, put on top, put on bottom, even partially expelled from the bed as Severus Snape fulfilled his own fantasies concerning the woman surrounding him, calling out his name in a way he only dreamed of.

You see, Severus Snape was in love with Hermione Weasley, but was so much older than the witch, and so lacking in attractiveness that he never believed she would return his affections. Then she married Ronald Weasley and he thought she was beyond him then, although he thought it a bad match from the very beginning.

Now he gave her all the passion and tenderness he felt in his heart, expressing his feelings in a very physical way, speaking to her, praising her and telling her what every witch wanted to hear from a man who was possessing her.

But in this case, everything Snape said to her was true

Ronald Weasley had dropped the quaffle, and Snape was right there to catch it before it hit the ground.

Snape and Hermione spent the entire day and night in his bedroom, making love, eating and sleeping intermittently. By the time they showered (together) and emerged Sunday to return to the labs and dumped the ruined brews, Hermione was in a much better state of mind.

Ronald? Ronald who?

Six months later, there was a knock on the door. Snape, who had been sitting on the sofa reading the Daily Prophet rose, to answer it. He strode through the foyer and peeked out the peephole. He scowled slightly, then pulled open the door, looking at the visitor with distaste.

"Who is it, Severus?" Hermione called from the kitchen.

Snape didn't answer her.

"Can I help you, Mr. Weasley?" the dark wizard asked the unsmiling redhead standing on his porch.

Ron's sober blue eyes drifted over Snape.

"I'm here to speak to my wife," Ron responded.

"Severus? Who is it?" Hermione called, now walking through the living room and toward the foyer.

Snape stepped aside and let her see Ron.

"Oh," she said, pulling up short.

"Your wife, my woman, Mr. Weasley. Keep it short," the Potions master said warningly, withdrawing to give them some privacy.

"I got the notice that you've switched back to using your maiden name," Ron said to her, his blue eyes drifting over her. She looked good . . . had a kind of glow around her."

"Yes, I thought that would be best, considering the situation," she responded.

"What situation?" Ron asked her.

In answer, Hermione drew her hand over her belly, showing Ron how round it was. The redhead looked at her, shocked.

"You're pregnant? By Snape?" he asked.

"Yes, I am," Hermione replied.

"So, you didn't use birth control with him like you did with me," Ron said, his eyes narrowing.

"No, I didn't," Hermione said, feeling no need to explain herself.

Ron fell silent for a moment, then looked around the house.

"Nice place. Took a while to find it. I thought you'd still be at the flat," he said to her.

"No, Severus bought this house for us," Hermione said, "there's a lab here so I can work. I'm still apprenticing."

Now Ron looked jealous. He couldn't have purchased a house for her on his salary.

"I always knew you were fucking Snape," he hissed at her.

In the living room, Snape stood up. He had amplified his hearing so he could hear their conversation and intercede if it became nasty. It seemed it was about to be.

Hermione looked at him coolly.

"No, Ron. I wasn't. At least I wasn't until you left me for Lavender. How is she by the way? And the baby?"

"Fine," he said. Actually, Lavender had gained seventy-five pounds and wasn't nearly as accommodating as she used to be. In fact, Ron often had to wait on her hand and foot now that she had the baby. She was a nag as well. Ron wasn't very happy.

"I thought that we could talk . . . maybe work something out," Ron said, his eyes dropping to her belly. "But now that you're carrying Snape's spawn . . ."

Now Snape strode through the house, his eyes hard as he approached the door. Hermione saw him coming and blocked his path, still facing Ron as the Potions master towered over her, murder in his eyes and he stared at Ron.

"Severus' child," she corrected him, "but I wouldn't come back to you, Ron, even if I weren't pregnant. You made your choice when you moved out to go with Lavender. You have a child with her, and a responsibility. To be honest, it was the best thing you could have done, because I've found my true soul mate now. I may be your wife, Ronald Weasley, but it's only in name. My heart and my love belong to Severus, and I intend to spend the rest of my life with him."

Severus possessively placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder, still glaring at Ron.

"Is there anything else, Mr. Weasley?" Snape asked him coldly.

Ron's eyes shifted from Hermione to the Potions master and back again.

"No. There's nothing else," he replied, then turned, and hesitated for a moment.

Snape tensed, ready for some kind of altercation, but Ron walked down the steps and out of their lives for good. He knew there was no hope for reconciliation. Not now, not ever.

Hermione closed the door and turned to see Severus looking at her thoughtfully.

"Soul mate?" he asked her, arching an eyebrow at the witch.

"Yes," Hermione replied, 'provided you even have a soul. It's been long rumored that you don't."

"Or a heart either," Snape said, following her into the living room, and grabbing her gently, drawing her into his arms.

"Although I'm fairly certain my lack of that particular organ would be because you've stolen it, Hermione Granger." he added with a slight smile.

"Oh, Severus," Hermione said, kissing him tenderly. "You say the sweetest things. But don't worry, I'll keep the secret."

"You do that," he said, kissing her again. "Otherwise, witch, I'd be ruined."

THE END

A/N: Not much of a story, but there it is. Thanks for reading.