Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

When Hermione returned home after the week-end, she found Lavender sitting in Ron's lap and giggling. Lavender extended a hand to Hermione as soon as she saw her.

"Ooooh, come here, look! Isn't it gorgeous!" she demanded. Hermione approached the sitting room sofa and was confronted by a piece of jewellery. Lavender was wearing a gold ring with a heart-shaped amethyst in the centre. On her left hand.

Hermione knew she was goggling, but she wasn't sure what to say. Did you congratulate people if you thought they'd done something stupid?

"Oh - er - wow, Lavender, I - that's really, I mean it fits you perfectly! That purple is brilliant on you!"

Lavender glowed. "I love it. Ronnie picked it himself!"

Hermione had no trouble believing this. She looked at Ron, trying to figure out what he was thinking, but he only had eyes for Lavender. "Congratulations, Ron, this is really exciting. Have you told your family?"

"Yeh, well, I told them I was going to ask, and I think they talked to the Browns. But now it's official." He gave his fiancée a squeeze, and she giggled.

Harry came around the corner with three bottles of bitter and handed them round. "Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were back. More in the kitchen, though. Have they told you?"

Hermione nodded. "Can't believe it!"

Lavender gave her a bit of a look, but softened when Hermione continued, "I think they're a good match, don't you?"

Harry shrugged. "Hadn't thought about it. But soon it'll just be me and you in this drafty great pile of bricks. We can each have a whole suite to ourselves, if we like."

"We're going to get married soon," Ron said. "We want to live near Mum and Dad, and there's a place to let in the village, so we thought we might as well."

This didn't seem like a good reason for marriage to Hermione, but it had obviously passed muster with Lavender. "Mrs Weasley says she'll help when the kids come, but that won't be for a while," she said. "I don't want to spoil my figure yet."

"That's perfect, then," Hermione said. "Being that close to Ron's mum and dad, they'll love it. 'Lavender Weasley' sounds nice." Suddenly, she wanted someone to ask about her N.E.W.T.s.

She could feel herself becoming a bit strained. She took another polite look at Lavender's engagement ring and then excused herself to freshen up.

It wasn't the ring, she thought later. It wasn't the marriage, or the prospect of the cottage and children. No, it was…

The way they were so open together. Hermione couldn't imagine her wizard holding her on his lap and kissing her neck in public, talking about how happy they were. He couldn't even have a conversation with her over dinner.

At one time, that had been enough for her. It would have to continue to be.

When she closed the dungeon office door behind herself on Saturday afternoon, the private door became visible to her immediately.

"You changed your wards for me!" she enthused, throwing the door open.

"You threatened to take over my bathroom and wardrobe," he said, unlacing his boots. "There was no point in standing against your campaign of domestic domination."

Hermione put her bag on the floor by the sofa. "You like me," she said with a grin.

"Opinions change," he groused, but without real feeling.

Hermione hadn't waited for an invitation, because he didn't seem to have anything else to do at the week-ends, and if he did, she knew he wouldn't hesitate to tell her.

"What's that smell?" she asked.

Severus pointed his wand at the soles of his boots and cast Scourgify. "Owl. Combination of shit and owl pellets, I imagine. I was in the Owlery."

Maybe it was just that she could read him now, but it almost felt like he wanted to keep talking. She waited, proud of herself for tucking her questions away.

"The bird I sent you, her name is Dilys." Snape paused. "She's one of the school owls. Demanding, but … loyal. If I want her to carry the post, she requires regular visits. "

If she held her breath, would he tell her more? It seemed not. "I like the Owlery, too."

He looked at her suspiciously, but didn't ask. "I suppose you're here to demand sexual favours," he sighed.

Hermione snickered at this, then impulsively hugged him. She wasn't sure who was more surprised. "D'you know, I liked working on the Roman à Clef, too, so if you'd like to plead headache, I could probably find something other than your…" she paused to step back and look him over suggestively, and he tossed his head to get his hair off of his face, "... fit body to keep me here."

"'Fit'? And just how long have you been having this sort of thought about your professor, Miss Granger?"

Hermione thrilled. "Oh. Erm - well, the first time I noticed was - I was in the Hospital Wing, after that fight at the Ministry. D'you remember?"

"You needed nearly half Pomfrey's stores, and two of the potions specially-brewed for you. Too right I remember."

"Well," she felt the blush again, "you did one of them in the Hospital Wing. I was - "

"You were lying there, out cold," Severus said. "Or - evidently not."

"I was in and out, I guess. You'd taken off your coat and Madam Pomfrey had gone for a cuppa, I think, anyway you were alone, and you finished the potion and - "

Severus was frowning at her as though her appearance had changed dramatically.

"And you smiled," Hermione finished.

No response.

"You looked into the cauldron, I don't know what it was, but you had just a flash of a smile, only half a second, like you were proud of it. And you were right next to me - "

"I needed your nail clippings for the draught, I was hardly trying to - "

"And I could see through your shirt because it was so hot in there and you were sweating. And that's when I noticed that you were rather fit," she concluded.

"You were ill, feverish, probably hallucinating."

Hermione nodded. "That'll be it, I'm sure. Then I guess I didn't notice about you being dishy until later." She waited.

He waited, too.

"Later, when?" he finally asked.

Hermione grinned. "Sixth year. I was at one end of the cloister corridor, and you walked the whole length of it, your robes billowing behind you, and you were probably hacked off about something, but oooh. You stalked toward me like you might shove me against the wall and rip my top off."

"And - you wanted me to."

"Yes, and no. I was still sort of scared of you then. Later, I did, though."

Snape watched her, and sat down on the sofa.

Hermione followed. She had every right to ask for exactly the kind of sex she wanted. This was how she'd got into this whole thing in the first place. Why should she stop now?

But now, there was something else. His pride, his increasing warmth, her growing fondness towards him. Those could be shattered if she moved in the wrong direction. So fragile, but what if she forced him to move past that?

She could only ask.

"You know how we've done you being the dominant one?" she began tentatively.

Snape's eyes cut to her, wary. He nodded.

"I was wondering, could we try it the other way 'round. If you were okay with it."

He inhaled. Hermione braced herself. "I - have never sought that part," he answered.

"Would you be willing to try it?" Hermione asked.

"Given some … caveats, perhaps. I do not like restraints, as you noticed. I will not tolerate them," he clarified, catching her eye to ensure that she understood.

"Oh, I only meant role-playing. No actual - like, nothing kinky."

He seemed to relax and consider. "I'm unlikely to agree sight-unseen. Continue, if you wish me to decide."

"Right, I thought - could we both be students, this time?"

For a moment, Hermione thought she should say more about this, because he didn't seem to have understood. Then, she noted that his posture next to her was perfectly still, absent even of the normal motion of breath and body.

He was uncertain, but he hadn't refused. Severus was debating with himself, trying to decide whether she could be trusted, whether he could unbend. It was critical that she let this play out.

It would be easy enough to goad him, she knew. She could use his pride as a hook, and he would let her tie him to the Hogwarts gates before he'd admit that it scared him. But if she went that way, it would be the last game they would ever play.

It was tempting to fill the silence, to say she hadn't meant it. But he would know, and he would be insulted that she was trying to save him. With a great effort of will, she waited.

At a bare minimum, it took him two minutes. Probably more like four. Hermione waited. What was it about being a student … he'd talked about Sirius … had his student days here been so bad? Or was it letting go of the power?

Finally, he said, "Yes. If you like."

Would this be too much, though? "We don't have to - " she started.

"I said, 'yes'," he insisted harshly. Hermione nodded.

This mightn't be such a good idea after all, but she was committed now. Hermione described an outline for what she wanted, the couple made the necessary arrangements for uniforms, and then they proceeded to the disused classroom on the fourth floor.

Severus Snape leaned against the wall near the window, leafing through a book.

Hermione had known, of course, that the man would be able to act a part. But the Slytherin uniform had done something to his posture, it seemed. His shoulders were slumped and his glances away from his book were almost furtive. Without the glaring confidence to which she was accustomed, he almost faded from sight, and she wondered if this was how he'd survived.

Hermione put on her brusquest, most officious manner (privately, she was trying to channel Percy Weasley). She entered the classroom and closed the door behind her.

"Snape. Been mucking about in the Dark Arts again?" she asked snidely.

"None of your concern," he muttered, ignoring her. Snape kept his eyes on the book, and his curtain of hair hid his face.

"Probably the only way you could get a girl interested in you," Hermione sniped, letting her hips sway as she approached him.

He snapped angry eyes up to her. "Which begs the question, Granger - why are you so interested?"

Hermione kept the smile off of her face, but only just. He was playing along. "I'm not. It's part of my duties as Head Girl, obviously. I'm to keep order."

"Keep ordering everyone about, more like," he snapped, going back to his reading.

Hermione straightened her spine. "That's it, Snape, hand in that book immediately."

"Come and get it, why don't you?" His wand was in his hand so fast that Hermione knew he must have practised. Always ready to fight, and he'd have needed that.

She rolled her eyes. "Because I'm not twelve. And no duelling, as well you know. I'll have to confiscate that book as suspected Dark materials."

"I'm not stopping you." He held the book casually, an arrogant tilt to his head.

Hermione could feel her body heating, and she sauntered toward him, holding his eyes. He took in her demeanour, and his posture loosened minutely, wary.

When she was just inches from taking the book, he raised it over his head, out of her reach by mere inches. She lunged for it, pressing her body against the Slytherin, and he stumbled back in surprise.

Hermione gave him a steady look and stepped toward him to bring their bodies together again. She stretched an arm overhead as though trying for the book, but she didn't even glance at it, instead watching his reaction as her breasts pressed against his torso.

She murmured, "If you don't hand in that book, I'll report you to Professor McGonagall, and then we'll see how tough you are."

Snape glared at her. "Oh, come off it, Granger! It's not dangerous, it's just a bit of fun."

Hermione made a production of stretching up on her tiptoes for the book, then relaxing, then stretching again, which allowed her to rub the length of her body up and down on his. She thought she saw him swallow, then he stepped back quickly, trying to hide his reaction to her.

She looked at him sideways, considering. "I can think of another way to have a bit of fun, and maybe to avoid any trouble with the Deputy Headmistress."

Snape's brows lowered. "I'm not doing your Potions work for you."

"I don't need you to. And anyway I said 'fun.'"

"Potions is fun."

She smiled provocatively at him. "Not this much fun."

Hermione sat down on the stone window seat and her robes fell open to either side of her knees. "Come here."

As he approached, Hermione watched his movement. "Can you roll your tongue, Snape?"

He showed her that he could, and she smiled.

"Being Head Girl can get rather lonely, you know."

He tilted his head and frowned. "You've got friends."

"But no one that I want to… help me, in this particular way." Hermione leaned back on the bench and gave the wizard a predatory look.

Snape's eyes grew, and he glanced at her legs.

"Good, you've caught on. Now, how would you like me to forget about this unfortunate bit with the Dark Arts book?"

He thought for a moment. "I want to see your tits."

Hermione frowned. "This isn't a negotiation." She pulled up her skirt slowly, teasingly, and the Slytherin stared at the cream cotton underpants. He reached out to touch her thigh, and then had to adjust his trousers. Hermione grinned at him.

"Now, Snape, let's see what else that tongue is good for." She pulled her knickers down and spread her thighs under his gaze, and he knelt at her feet.

"Good boy."

His eyes flashed anger up at her, but he quickly looked back down to the bared skin. He had already seen her, tasted her, touched her. But Snape was looking at her vulva as though he had never seen one before.

"You're shiny. Wet," he said.

"For you," said Hermione.

"Why me?" he asked suspiciously, still staring.

"God knows, but I like the look of you. And you're as smart as I am."

"I'm smarter," he said absently.

She snorted. "I doubt it. And you're a seventh-year, but you're not even a Prefect, so I can make you do what I want."

He bristled at this. "No one can make me do anything, Head Girl or not. And if you don't make this mutually beneficial, I'll report you."

Hermione looked down at him and wove her fingers into his hair. She gently guided his head toward her vulva, and his tongue slipped out of his mouth and tentatively tasted her.

"Aaah, yes," she sighed, and used one hand to hold herself open for him.

Even this was different, Hermione thought. He had been confident and almost rapacious when he'd gone down on her before. This time, he was acting as though he'd never done it and wasn't sure he'd like it. He was either acting his part to please her (unlikely), or Severus Snape had allowed himself to touch the person that he had once been, more than a decade ago.

"Good, just there," she said, playing with his hair.

"Like that?"

"Stop talking. Draw the alphabet with your tongue if you can't think what to do."

Snape reached down to adjust his trousers again, then tentatively slid a hand around her thigh to cup her bottom and hold it in place. His practised skill in this area began to show itself, and she rewarded him with encouraging sighs.

"Yes, clever boy!"

He obeyed her, flicking his tongue and lips over and over, and then he looked up at her and pulled back, seeking permission. She gave him an encouraging smile. His attention returned to her body, and he put one finger on her labia and stroked it. He trailed the finger down to her inner labia and began to circle, coming closer to her entrance. When she didn't stop him, Snape extended his finger and slid it into her vagina.

It didn't matter that he'd had his fingers, his penis, and a dildo inside her before. This time felt like the first time, the most important time. Snape was staring in fascination, and when his whole finger was inside her, he unfurled another one and added it, too. The wizard shuddered.

"Easy, isn't it?" she asked.

Snape tilted his head to look up at her, almost as though he'd forgotten she could speak. Turning his palm upward, he curled his fingers to beckon inside her, and she felt him massaging her Gráfenberg spot.

"Someone's been reading," Hermione smiled. He responded by trying to stroke her harder. "No, harder isn't always better." He calmed his motions, then withdrew his hand and continued to study her.

He stroked his finger back up her labia and brushed it over her clitoris tentatively. Hermione whimpered. Something about his hesitation made her feel powerful and sophisticated. He began to stroke her the way he knew she preferred, and she let out little noises of enjoyment.

"Now your mouth again," she ordered, and was a little surprised that he obeyed. He held her labia open and began licking and sucking, moving his lips over her skin, until she moaned rhythmically, and he sped his attentions, pushing her over the edge.

Finally, she relaxed onto the bench in cool relief. Hermione supported herself on one arm and watched him lean back and lick his lips. She reached down to touch the lump in his trousers.

"I can help you with that, since you were so polite," she said. He pressed his lips together.

"Have you done it with a girl already, Snape?"

"No," he huffed. "And I don't want to."

He was sitting on the ground now, eyes moving between her hand and her legs.

"Really? Do you like boys better?"

"No! I just don't want to, now," he growled. "This was fine, but I don't want…"

Hermione shrugged. "All right. Come up here and sit with me. I promise not to rip your robes off, or anything."

Snape got up carefully and sat beside her on the bench. "I didn't say I didn't want anything." He stared at his lap, but didn't move toward her.

"Ah." Hermione slowly reached out to feel him through his trousers again. He was hot and very hard. "Did you like me touching you?"

Snape shrugged. "Yes, if you w- "

She squeezed and stroked the sensitive head. His eyes snapped to her face, and she saw vulnerability there. It almost shocked her into stopping.

"I'll bet you'd like putting it in my mouth, wouldn't you?" she asked.

Snape's eyes held hers. Hermione stood up, leaving her knickers on the floor, and straddled his slightly-spread legs, skirt and robes falling to either side. The Slytherin shuddered under her, and squirmed up. He reached out to touch the glossy surface of her Head Girl badge, and then looked into her eyes and stretched out his fingers to cup her breast. She helped him to unbutton her cardigan and blouse, and his eyes snapped to the shadow between her breasts.

Hermione leaned in to whisper into his ear. "You know, if you opened your trousers, just one move from you and - " she ground her labia onto him and nipped his ear. "I'd let you do it, Snape."

Under her, Severus groaned and writhed, and Hermione circled her hips over him. She slipped a hand inside his robes to stimulate his nipple. He tucked one hand under her skirt, cupping her bottom, and supported himself on the bench with the other. They began to thrust in unison, savouring the friction. Suddenly his body stiffened and he thrust spasmodically.

The Slytherin sighed deeply. A bright blush was climbing his neck.

"Oh dear, Snape, you didn't… just from listening to me talk?"

He glared away from her. "Poor Severus," she taunted, " gets off on being bullied by a Gryffindor. You liked it, didn't you?"

The usually-impassive face of her teacher looked lost. Hermione might be able to say something to him now that would reach deeper than at any other time. She reached out to cup his cheek.

"Snape. Look at me," she commanded. "You've done better than most of the boys in this school have ever done. Better than some of them ever will."

He was glaring at her, his hair shielding part of his face.

"You made me come first," she said.

Snape looked her full in the face at this, still frowning.

"You don't understand. If I tell the other girls that, you'll be drowning." Hermione winked. "Not going to tell, though, because I'd rather keep you to myself." She threaded her fingers into his hair.

"You'd want to - do it again?"

She tried to imitate his single raised brow. "And more. Say that too much and I'll want it again right now. Girls can, you know."

"Boys can too, sometimes," he said. "You're a bossy witch, Granger."

"Your mouth smells like sex," she replied.

"I know you hate it," Hermione began as they sat in his lounge, sipping their tea, "but - "

"I've been waiting for this one, actually. Let's have it, preferably before you wee all over my floor."

"I wasn't - !" she began, but then recognised his attempt to set her off-course, and glared at him. "I think there's something - I had a Hot-for-Teacher thing, and I've admitted it. But there's something you had, and I'm only asking, obviously it's not students, but …" she stopped.

He wasn't answering her, and things were beginning to go sideways, she feared.

"I'm sorry, this is rather private, and so I won't ask. I'll tell you what I saw, and then I'm going to open this book and read it and leave you alone. It's not meant to be - anyway, here it is: you didn't mind that I was a student. Then, you did. Then, you hesitated about us both pretending to be students, and then I remembered that you liked to point out that I was Head Girl." She paused for breath. "At first, I thought that it was because there was prestige associated with that, but then you kept saying 'Gryffindor Head Girl.' I think - I wondered about it."

This would be the hardest part. "So I looked at the list, and the Head Girl your year was a Gryffindor," Hermione stated, looking hard at her book cover. "Lily Evans."

She twisted the book's spine under her palms, then stopped when she torqued it a bit. "I know it sounds mad, that you'd have a thing for - but it's something I noticed, that's all."

Hermione took a deep breath, then allowed herself a slow blink. She opened the tormented book and focussed her eyes on the page. The brave, outspoken scientist had compelling chemistry with the staid military man, but Hermione found that their story couldn't pull her in, today.

"I did have a life before 1991, you know," Severus muttered.

Hermione kept her eyes on her book.

"I was fond of Lily, yes," he went on. "She was the first person outside of my mother who was decent to me; any halfway intelligent Slytherin knows how far a bit of gentleness goes when you've had none. But Hermione, you are… " Snape paused, and Hermione realised that he was going to volunteer information. Something about the scene they'd played had set him free, or perhaps broken something. She closed the book, but was careful to look only into the fire.

"I was preoccupied for years, and I simply had no interest. But you were so persistent, and I thought that as long as a certain … distance was maintained, that the possibility could be explored." He sighed, watching the flames.

Hermione waited.

"That distance disappeared, obviously. And the rewards were greater than the difficulties." His eyes flicked to her and then away, so quickly that she almost missed it. "And now that you've planted yourself directly in my way, I fear there may be no getting shot of you."

She tucked her legs up on the sofa and leaned into Severus's side. He picked up his book, and so did she. This time, she lost herself easily in the story.

A/N: The scientist and military commander are from Shards of Honor, the first Vorkosigan Saga book by Lois McMaster Bujold. Bujold has won more than one Hugo and Nebula for her speculative fiction series.