Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, and no money is made from the production of this piece of fanfiction.
Written for the sshg_exchange on LJ. Much love and adoration to lorcalon for the beta work!
"Abram, Dallin, give that back to your sister immediately." Severus levelled a stern gaze at the twin boys as they darted through the sitting room. Abram and Dallin skidded to a stop, the latter stuffing his hands behind his back in an attempt to hide the china doll they'd nicked from their younger sister. "Now," Severus said firmly.
"But Da'-" Abram hedged, flicking a strand of his shaggy auburn hair out of his eyes.
"That was not a suggestion, Abram." Severus held out his hand and gestured for Dallin to hand over the doll. Dallin shot his brother an apologetic glance before stepping forward, reluctantly pulling the doll from behind his back. His eyes lowered to the floor while Abram shifted guiltily from one foot to the other behind him. Sighing, Severus took the china doll from his son and looked over the large crack across her face with a scowl.
"What happened?" Hermione asked, stepping into the room with Etta in tow.
"Maisie!" Etta shrieked, darting around Hermione's legs toward Severus's chair. Yanking the doll from her father's hands, she cradled it close to her chest as her lower lip began to tremble. Turning sharply on her heel to look at Abram and Dallin, her arms tightened protectively around Maisie as she snapped, "You hurt her!"
"Did not!" Abram snapped defensively, folding his arms across his chest with a huff. "Piece of junk just broke, we hardly touched it."
"Maisie is not junk!" Etta stomped her foot forcefully, the tremble of her lip increasing as tears welled in her eyes. "She's not..." she repeated in a whimper.
Leaning forward in his seat, Severus wrapped his arms around Etta and plucked her up easily to place her in his lap. "Shh, of course Maisie's not junk, Ettie," he murmured, stroking Etta's hair soothingly. Etta curled herself against Severus's chest, clutching the doll closer to herself as she shook her head.
"They broke her, Papa..."
"All right," Hermione said, turning toward Abram and Dallin with a frown. Abram's expression remained recalcitrant, while Dallin wrung his hands nervously beneath their mother's gaze. Hermione pointed at the both of them before jabbing her finger sharply in the direction of the staircase. "You two, go to your rooms."
Abram harrumphed and stalked off wordlessly, stomping his feet loudly as he ascended the stairs. Dallin hesitated a moment before ducking his head and shuffling slowly out of the room with a murmured apology to Etta. Hermione waited until she heard both their doors close on the upper level- Abram's with a slam and Dallin's almost silently- to turn toward Severus's chair.
Etta sniffled, tucking a long strand of black hair behind her ear before swiping the back of her hand across her puffy eyes. "There now, Ettie," Severus murmured, offering Etta a small smile as she calmed. "All better?"
Sniffling loudly again, Etta nodded, loosening her grip on her doll to offer her to Severus. "Can you make Maisie better, Papa?" Hermione smiled to herself as she watched Severus nod and draw his wand from the pocket of his trousers. He murmured a quick Repairo over the doll's face and Etta watched in fascination as the crack mended itself before her eyes.
"Thank you, Papa!" Etta chimed happily, throwing her arms around Severus's neck. He winced slightly as the doll still dangling from her hands whapped him in the back from her enthusiasm, but his arms twined around the little girl in an answering hug as he chuckled.
"You're welcome."
Etta pressed a kiss to Severus's cheek as she pulled away, sliding off his lap to bounce excitedly on her toes in front of him. "Will you come play with me and Maisie, now? Please, Papa?" Severus looked up at Hermione, arching one eyebrow in silent question for her approval.
Unable to help herself, Hermione grinned and nodded, waiving her hand in a shooing gesture. "It would be my pleasure, Ettie," Severus answered, standing and ruffling Etta's hair affectionately. Etta cheered and grasped Severus's hand with one of hers, tugging him along after her as she darted from the room. Hermione watched the two of them go, feeling a familiar swell of warmth in her heart at the happiness in Severus's expression.
"That insufferable, intolerant, tyrannical bastard!" Harry looked up at the sound of Hermione's angry muttering, quickly pulling his feet away from the legs of the chair opposite him just before she yanked it angrily away from the table. He waited until she had settled into the seat with a huff to push the bottle of Butterbeer he'd ordered for her when he arrived across the table toward her. Hermione didn't look up or speak as she snatched the bottle away from him, pressing it to her lips and taking a long draw from the bottle before replacing it with a loud "Should I assume that Snape has done something to upset you again, or is there some other 'tyrannical bastard' giving you grief today?" he asked, hoping to lighten the mood. Instead, Harry only succeeded in winning himself a glare from Hermione over her Butterbeer as she downed another gulp. " "Ron and I tried to warn you," Harry reminded her gently. "If you'd come back last year-" "You know I couldn't do that!" Hermione interrupted sharply, raising her eyes from the bottle to meet Harry's gaze. "I had to sort things out with Mum and Dad. Not like I could just waltz into their house in Australia, mend their memories, and then leave for school!" "I know that, Hermione." Harry raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and waited for the sharp edge of anger to recede from Hermione's expression before he continued. "But if you "You know, you could always just drop Defence," he suggested, receiving a fresh glare of annoyance from Hermione in response. "What?" Harry asked, shrugging his shoulders. "It's not as though you really need it; you're brilliant, Hermione, and a decorated war veteran. You could pass the NEWT without actually sitting in his class all year, and even if you couldn't, I imagine the Ministry would be happy to overlook it." Hermione's eyes narrowed slightly, and Harry saw from the set of her jaw that she was about to burst into one of her lectures. "On second thought, forget I said anything," he backtracked hurriedly. "Your NEWTs are important, and taking the class is "Talking about Snape, are we?" Ron asked as he approached the table and threw himself bodily into the seat to Hermione's right. One look at her sour expression answered his question, and Ron grinned. "It's not all bad, 'Mione. Harry and I survived him last year, you should have no problem. Besides, term's almost over-" "It's not about 'surviving' dealing with him, Ron." Hermione sighed and lifted her bottle again, tossing back the last of her Butterbeer. "If he was only refusing to call on me in class or docking points, I could deal with that. But he insists on insulting me at every turn, as well, and it's..." Hermione's voice trailed off and her gaze lowered to the table, glaring at it as though it were the cause of her sour mood. Assuming they understood her meaning, both Harry and Ron nodded. "He can be a right bastard," Ron muttered before taking a sip from the Butterbeer bottle he dangled from one hand. "Needs something to set him straight, for sure. "I'd suggest a good shag, but who would touch him?" "Oi, Harry!" Ron shot Harry a disgusted glance as he shook his head frantically, as though trying to prevent the thought from lodging in his mind. "Honestly, mate, that's vile. I don't imagine "But that's the beauty of it," Harry interrupted, grinning with a suppressed laugh at Ron's still-horrified expression. "He's, what? Forty? Probably never had one in his life; "If you two will excuse me," Hermione piped up softly, pushing back from the table without raising her eyes to look at either of her friends. "I have some studying to do." "Are you sure, Hermione?" Ron asked, a hint of disappointment in his tone. "Yeah, you just got here!" Harry protested. Shaking her head, Hermione flashed them both a half-hearted, apologetic smile. "Sorry. It was good to see you two, though," she said as she righted the chair where it had been before she came in. "We'll have to do this again soon." "Of course!" Harry and Ron agreed in unison. Hermione muttered another quiet goodbye as she leaned down to hug the both of them, before quickly retreating from the Three Broomsticks, ducking her head in embarrassment. She heard a loud laugh erupt from their table just as she stepped outside, and felt her cheeks flame at the thought of what joke the boys must have made now. Pulling her jacket tightly around herself, Hermione focused her attention on her shoes as she began trudging through the late-season snow, up the path toward the castle. Harry and Ron had written to her throughout the previous year, informing her that Snape had not only survived the bite from Nagini, but recovered entirely and returned to teaching as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor once again. She'd expected to find him at the castle when she returned at the beginning of term because of that, but- despite Harry and Ron's raving about Snape's continued injustices toward them over the months- had retained some hope that he could at least behave much more like adult than he had in previous years. Instead, he had behaved like the same man he had been prior to his near-death in the Shrieking Shack: caustic and unnecessarily insulting. It had been a shock to her system, then, when despite his attitude, Hermione's first view of Professor Snape in more than a year had resulted in not a feeling of revulsion or even indifference, but His appearance was no different than it had been in previous years; Hermione had spent several of the early nights of term awake, discerning that frustrating detail. It somehow would have lessened the shock, she thought, had Snape's physical appearance altered, somehow. His nose become less crooked, his skin tone taken on a healthier complexion, his teeth straightened or become less yellowed. None of it had happened, and deep in the recesses of her mind, a part of her was glad for it; when she wasn't balking at the realization that she could find anything appealing about him at all. Her shock had only increased when the first Defence Against the Dark Arts class of the term confirmed that his voice had remained the same as well, although her own reaction to it had certainly changed. A small shiver had worked its way down her spine the first time he had addressed the class of seventh-years, although that effect had mostly faded with time. Her heart's incessant need to hammer in her chest each time he stepped up behind her to murmur a snide comment about the quality of her spell-work, however, had persisted. Hermione was yanked violently out of her reverie as her foot slipped. She saw a swirl of black fabric from the corner of her eye before she toppled gracelessly face-first into the snow with a startled yelp. "Well, Miss Granger," Snape's low baritone rumbled above her. "I see your highly praised intellect does not exclude you from exhibiting the clumsiness of the average first-year." It took several moments for Hermione to bring herself to do more than gape helplessly at the snow beneath her. Finally, she pushed herself to her feet, glaring as she brushed snow from her jeans despite the futility of the effort; the ice-cold fabric had already begun to cling to her legs as the snow melted through. She glanced briefly at Snape's smirking expression when she straightened and felt the heat rising in her cheeks again. "Sorry, sir," she muttered softly, ducking her head as she quickly stepped around him. Hermione wrapped her arms more tightly around herself, clutching her shoulders as though bracing against the cold as she stomped up the snow-covered path the rest of the way to the castle. By the time she reached the large doors inside, her anger and embarrassment had subsided, replaced by a thoughtfulness as she replayed Ron and Harry's snide remarks at the Three Broomsticks in her mind. A small smile spread across her face as she pulled the large doors open and stepped into the warmth of the castle, tugging the gloves from her frozen fingers. Snape was, admittedly, an arse at times- a trait that, while frustrating, Hermione managed to find somewhat endearing of late- but Ron and Harry likely had a point as to
Hermione was startled out of her memory by Severus's hands lightly squeezing her shoulders. Humming softly, she leaned her head back to look up at him where he leaned over the back of the chair. Severus smiled as he leaned down further, brushing his lips against the shell of Hermione's ear.
"It seems our children have worn themselves out already," he told her quietly. Curling his hands around Hermione's upper arms, Severus squeezed lightly. "Perhaps we should make good use of the free time."
A small tremor rippled along Hermione's spine at the suggestive tone in Severus's voice, and the firmness of his touch sent heat spiralling through her. "What- what did you have in mind?" she asked a little breathily, her tongue darting out to wet her suddenly-dry lips. A low chuckle rumbled in her ear as Severus withdrew his hands from her arms. One of his hands slipped easily into Hermione's curls, tugging her head back firmly to trace the line of her jaw with his lips.
"I think you've been a very naughty girl lately, Miss Granger," Severus drawled, his voice dropping to a low, sultry baritone as Hermione shivered beneath his touch. "Perhaps a detention will straighten you out." He punctuated his suggestion with a sharp nip at Hermione's throat, drawing a quiet moan from her parted lips.
"I expect you in my office in fifteen minutes," Severus continued, ignoring Hermione's disappointed whimper when he straightened and withdrew. "Do not be late."
"Yes, Sir," Hermione answered softly. The corner of Severus's mouth quirked slightly in a suppressed smirk before he turned and stalked out of their sitting room toward the kitchen and the door to their basement labs.
"Professor Snape?" Hermione peered into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, letting out a relieved sigh when she found it empty. Stepping into the room, Hermione closed the door behind her with a quiet In the two weeks since her lunch with Harry and Ron, Hermione had focused on developing a plan of attack to seduce Professor Snape. She'd gone as far as nicking a few magazines from the lower-years in search of some sort of dating advice that could be applied to the situation, but had come up empty-handed. Her attempts to observe her professor for any clues to what might appeal to him had failed as well; the few times she had bothered to jot down notes as she watched him had resulted in pages filled with Hermione's musing about the silky baritone of Snape's voice and wondering about the feel of his long-fingered hands. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Hermione moved away from the door, crossing the room toward Snape's desk. With only three months left in term before she would be leaving Hogwarts, and developing a proper plan proving too time-consuming to be practical, Hermione had jumped on the first idea that came to mind. Hermione bit down on her lower lip anxiously as she removed a folded note from the pocket of her school robes, ignoring the tremble of her hand as she reached to tuck it beneath a stack of essays on Professor Snape's desk. It wasn't the most straightforward or mature of routes to take, but desperate times and all that. "Miss Granger." Hermione jumped and let out a startled yelp at the sound of Snape's voice behind her. She thrust her arms behind her back as she spun around to face him, feeling a deep blush of embarrassment rising in her cheeks. "Professor, I-" "I do not recall inviting you to make yourself at home in my classroom," Snape drawled in a curious tone. Taking several steps closer, he loomed over Hermione and arched one dark eyebrow as he looked her over pointedly. "So why is it that I find you poking about my desk? And "N-nothing, sir," Hermione stammered, quickly trying to stuff her hands into her pockets without Snape catching sight of the parchment still clutched in one fist. He was faster, however, and before Hermione's hand could slip into the safety of her ropes, Snape curled his long fingers around her wrist with deceiving strength and stopped her. "Nothing indeed," Snape murmured, easily prying the parchment from Hermione's fingers. "Stealing is quite an unattractive quality in a Gryffindor." "I haven't stolen anything!" Hermione said in a startled tone, reaching hopefully for the parchment only to have Snape raise his arm as he unfolded the note. She let out a soft whimper, watching his expression until his eyes widened, and then she ducked her head as she felt her face flame crimson. There was a crinkle of paper above her as Snape's hand closed more tightly around the parchment, crumpling it in his palm. "I would have expected better of you, than to play childish games such as this. Explain yourself." "G-games, sir?" Hermione warily raised her gaze to meet Snape's eyes, the nervous tremble returning to her hands as she saw the flash of anger in his expression. "I'm not playing any games..." "Of course not," Snape sneered, leaning down over her until his face was nearly level with hers as his eyes narrowed dangerously. "I am twice your age, Miss Granger. My position as your professor aside, do you honestly expect me to believe this infatuation you proclaim to have for me is genuine?" "It's not just an infatuation!" Hermione snapped without thinking. Her eyes widened as soon as the words left her lips and she quickly clamped her hands over her mouth. Snape straightened instantly, his fingers closing tighter around the crumpled parchment as he glowered down at her. "
Hermione glanced down at her clothing as she descended the stairs to the basement labs, smoothing her hand over a wrinkle in her robes before smiling in satisfaction. She'd outgrown her school uniform after Abram and Dallin's birth, but Severus had helped her magically resize and tailor the outer robes to fit. As she raised her hand to knock on the closed door, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes momentarily to clear her mind.
"Miss Granger, I see you are as incapable of telling time as you of behaving yourself in my classroom." Looking up, Hermione met Severus's dark gaze and shivered at his air of control. "Your detention began fifteen minutes ago."
"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to be late, but I-"
"I am not interested in your excuses," Severus interrupted, pushing the door to the lab open with his foot and stepping back. He folded his arms over his chest as he glowered down at her, inviting her into the room with a jerky nod. Hermione ducked her head as she stepped inside, noting with a small smile that Severus had rearranged their brewing space to remotely resemble his former classroom. "Do you find something amusing, Miss Granger?"
Hermione shook her head, quickly masking her smile with a look of petulance as she looked up to meet Severus's eyes again. "Of course not, Professor. Should I begin scrubbing the cauldrons then?"
"I think not." Severus moved closer to Hermione, using his height to his advantage as he stood over her, looking down his nose at her. "First, you are going to tell me what was so important you felt a need to daydream during my lesson rather than pay attention."
"It was nothing, Sir," Hermione answered quickly as a blush rose in her cheeks. She took a small step back but was stopped and pulled forward again by Severus reaching out to grasp a handful of her hair.
"I do not like liars, Miss Granger." Hermione trembled as she looked up to meet Severus's dark eyes, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips anxiously. "Now, explain yourself before I force the information from you myself."
Looking away from him nervously, Hermione tried to extract herself from Severus's hold on her hair. His fingers only tightened around her curls instead, snapping her head back with a sharp jerk of his arm. "Answer me, girl."
"I-I was only thinking," Hermione stammered, a small tremor rippling through her at the tone of command in Severus's voice and his firm hold on her hair. "Please, it was nothing-"
"You are a terrible liar," Severus interjected. "What were you 'thinking' about, Miss Granger, since the answer was clearly not 'nothing'?" His eyes bored into hers, stern and unflinching as Hermione wavered uncertainly. After a long moment, her gaze flickered away from him to focus on the wall behind his shoulder.
"It was really nothing, Professor..."
"Do you know what I think it was, Miss Granger?" The hand in Hermione's hair tightened slightly, drawing her attention back to Severus's face with a faint blush rising in her cheeks. One corner of Severus's mouth twitched as he leaned in to bring his lips beside her ear, his breath washing over her sending another small tremor along her spine. "I think you are lying to me because you think I didn't see what you were up to."
Hermione stiffened with a sharp intake of breath. "S-sir?" Severus chuckled darkly in her ear, closing the remaining distance between his mouth and the shell of her ear, tracing its curve lightly with his tongue.
"Did you honestly believe no one would notice, or were you hoping that they would?"
Swallowing thickly, Hermione tilted her head to one side, inviting Severus to move his mouth lower toward her neck. "I... I had hoped you would notice, Professor..."
"My, my, Miss Granger," Severus purred, his lips following the column of Hermione's throat to her shoulder. His teeth scraped lightly over her flesh there, causing her to shiver. "Who would have suspected you were such a slut?"
Hermione whimpered softly at his words, her body arching into his. "Do you know what happens to girls such as yourself?" Severus's hands wandered over Hermione's sides to rest at her hips, caressing her through the fabric of her robe.
"N-no, Sir," Hermione answered with a small tremor to her voice. Severus gripped her hips a little tighter in reply, spinning her roughly and urging her forward toward his desk at the front of the room with a sharp swat on the curve of her arse.
"They are treated like the sluts they pretend to be," he told her, an edge of amusement in his seductively low tone. "Now, bend over and brace yourself."
"Miss Granger, what do you think you're doing?" Hermione jumped at Snape's low voice growling dangerously from behind her. Turning on her heel, she looked up at him as he stalked toward her from the classroom door, his robes billowing out behind him. "Organizing the books, Professor..." Hermione answered, in a tone that said this should have been obvious, as Snape came to stand in front of her. His eyes raked over her quickly, bringing a flush rising in her cheeks at the intensity of his gaze when it settled on her face again. "And you feel this task requires you to remove your school ropes in favour of... Her face portrayed more confidence than she felt as Hermione smiled coyly up at him, twisting her arms behind her back to hide their nervous trembling. "I don't see the problem, Professor. Perhaps- oh!" Hermione bumped into the bookshelf behind her as she took a step back from Snape, trying to put a little more distance between them again. A precariously placed stack of books toppled to the floor, and she blushed as she turned and nudged one with her toe. "So sorry, Professor, let me get those." Hermione felt her skirt ride up slightly as she bent at the waist, and the flush in her cheeks quickly spread throughout the rest of her body as she realized that her knickers would be showing. Behind her, Snape let out a low growl that sent a tremor of delight washing over her for a moment, that was quickly quashed and replaced one of fear as his hand gripped her hair and pulled her upright. "P-professor Snape?" Hermione whimpered uncertainly. Her feet stumbled as he forced her to turn away from the bookshelf toward the open classroom and thrust his arm out sharply, releasing his hand from her hair at the same time. She tripped and caught herself on the nearest desk before turning to look over her shoulder at Snape, cringing at the dark anger in his eyes. "Put on your robes and get out of my classroom." "But sir-" "
"You've been distracted this evening." Hermione shifted her head against Severus's shoulder to look up at him in question. Tracing his hand over the small of her back gently, Severus brought a hand up to brush a curl from Hermione's eyes. "You are an easy woman to read, Hermione."
"Or you have quite a bit of practice," Hermione said with a fond smile. She nuzzled her cheek against Severus's shoulder as she shifted her body closer to his, curling herself against his side. "Our anniversary is tomorrow. I've just been thinking about how things came together for us."
Severus chuckled, tracing Hermione's cheekbone lightly with the back of his hand. "Would you be referring to your dreadful attempts at seduction?"
"They were not 'dreadful'!"
"Hermione," Severus murmured, tucking two fingers beneath her chin to tip her head back. "You are a lovely woman with a brilliant mind. But your talent for seduction was minimal at the time."
Hermione's eyes narrowed as she jerked her chin away from Severus's hand and scooted herself back away from him slightly.
"I was nineteen-"
"And attempting to bed a teacher nearly twice your age, and one you believed to be a virgin. Short skirts and childish notes were not the brightest of your ideas in that respect."
"I don't hear you complaining about me using those things now," Hermione snapped peevishly. Despite her annoyance, she allowed Severus to gently nudge her onto her back on the bed, holding his gaze as he positioned himself to lean over her.
"That is because now, you are no longer my student." Severus replied, supporting himself on one arm as he trailed his other hand slowly up Hermione's side. Dipping his head to press a kiss to her cheek, Severus smiled. "At least you waited for your schooling to finish, to think up sending me photographs."
Hermione's cheeks flushed as she aimed a light swat of her hand at Severus's shoulder. "Intolerable git."
"Insufferable know-it-all."
"You know we do this every year, don't you?" Hermione asked with a small smile.
"That is because, even after ten years, you do not know when to admit that you are wrong," Severus teased, gathering Hermione's wrists to pin them gently to the pillow above her head. He moved to sit astride her waist, holding her wrists firmly with one hand while the other lightly caressed her cheek. Hermione's face turned into the caress. Glancing up at him from the corner of her eye, she sucked one long finger into her mouth, eliciting a low growl from Severus. "Little minx."
"You love me," Hermione murmured after pulling her mouth away. Moving his hand to tug Hermione's night shirt up over her breasts, Severus leaned in closer to her to brush his lips against her neck.
"That I do," he whispered between small kisses. "That I do..."
"Congratulations, Miss Granger." Hermione looked up at Snape standing over her, leaning against the tree she sat beneath. "Your NEWT results were rather remarkable. You should be proud of yourself." Blinking in surprise, Hermione pushed herself to her feet, brushing the thin dusting of dirt from her graduation robes. "Thank you, Professor," she said uncertainly, looking Snape over with a curious expression. They stood in awkward silence for a moment, his gaze focused out over the lake while she drank in his profile and studied his features carefully. "Sir?" Snape turned his eyes toward her again, quickly masking the flash of vulnerability she saw there behind his usual indifference. "It seems I have something to return to you," he said, with a nearly imperceptible waver to his voice. Reaching into a pocket, he withdrew a folded piece of parchment and offered it to her. Hermione's brow furrowed slightly in confusion as she accepted the parchment. A sharp gasp burst from her lips as she unfolded it, and the note slipped from her trembling fingers as she looked up to meet Snape's dark eyes again. Without a second thought, Hermione flung herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. "Shall I assume this means you are agreeable to the idea?" Hermione chuckled against his shoulder, pulling back enough to smile broadly up at him. "
I imagine this will come as a surprise to you, which is why I am sure you will understand my need to remain unknown to you for the time being. But I find you to be a rather attractive, intellectual man and, to put it rather bluntly, I would be like to be with you.
I'm sure that you are suspicious of this letter, and my lack of signature, but I assure you I am sincere. Perhaps, in time, you will be able to write to me in return. For now, though, I intend to write to you in an attempt to show that my interest in real.
Sincerely,
Me
Miss Granger, Since you have been remarkably determined to test every ounce of patience and restraint that I possess- both as your professor and as a man- I am 'forced' to admit to some interest in you, as well. Of course, I say this only now that either of us is truly free to pursue one another. If you are agreeable, perhaps we might have dinner tomorrow night? -Severus