Chapter Text
Hermione awakened slowly, bits of her surroundings filtering in.
Bed: warm and comfortable, but unfamiliar.
Light: murky. Early dawn.
Scent of coffee, which was lovely, because the boys never -
Hermione opened one eye cautiously, as though she might be less visible if she could see less. Severus was gone, but he'd added wood to the fire.
Now that she saw the light filtered through the lake water outside the window, Hermione thought it must be later than dawn; she was just underwater.
And naked. Which, of course, she might have expected. Fall asleep nude, wake up nude. She had a wild, panicked desire to run for it so that she didn't have to face the awkwardness of having no idea what to say to her man. Should she apologise for staying over? No, he hadn't told her not to. But surely he wouldn't want her hanging about at the school.
Hermione stood and looked around for her clothes. Or maybe… she eyed the wardrobe. But would he think she was sneaking?
He'd let her sleep in his bed.
When she stepped out of the bedroom wrapped in one of his frock coats, though, and he looked up at her, she thought she'd made the right choice. He didn't reference it directly, but he looked hungry.
"Coffee?" he asked her, pointing to the table where a pot and mug waited. She helped herself.
"I didn't mean to sleep here," she said.
"You need not stay," he answered.
"Would you like me to go?" Hermione asked, halfway through sitting down.
"If I wanted you out, I wouldn't have offered you coffee," Severus pointed out. He was holding yesterday's Daily Prophet, but staring at her legs where they disappeared under his coat.
Hermione interested herself in looking about the room. Plenty of bookcases, not much in the way of personal items. A potted plant that was looking rather anaemic. She stood to read the book spines, enjoying the silky smooth lining of the coat on her skin.
He had a bit of everything, and quite a lot on the Dark Arts. This didn't come as a surprise, exactly, but it served to deter her from touching anything without his approval.
Hermione was so lost in browsing that she didn't hear him stand up, so she nearly spilled coffee on his coat when she felt a hand slip around her waist. "See anything you like?" slithered into her ear.
She turned around and made sure to look him over from head to toe before smiling and answering, "Oh, yes."
Severus grabbed her cup and placed it safely on the table. "You may have ruined my coat," he said, reaching for one of the few buttons she'd done up.
Looking down the front of it, Hermione saw nothing wrong. "What have I done, made it smell like Girl?"
"No," he drawled, giving the word several syllables. He drew one side of the coat open. "But I doubt I'll be able to wear it again without thinking about your naked body wrapped in it. Imagine the difficulty I will have in lecturing."
Hermione ducked under his arm and away, laughing, then went to sit on his sofa. She spread her legs and pointed her toes, then arranged the open coat so that it just covered his breasts. "The lining does feel nice," she said, cupping her breasts over the coat front.
Her wizard walked to an armchair and sat, sipping his coffee and watching her. She let herself writhe inside the too-large coat, pulling the sensual experience close. She vaguely wondered how long she could tease him, and set about finding out.
Hermione lay back on the sofa, keeping the coat around her, legs hanging off the edge. She arched her back and glanced over to see him watching her, and now lightly stroking himself through his trousers. She let one side of the coat fall open and tickled her breast.
"Show me the quill, show it to me on your skin," he said.
Hermione's hand flew to her pendant.
"No, I want to see the writing," Severus clarified. Hermione unlatched it and held it up.
"Where do you want it?" she asked him. She remembered when he'd asked her that, it seemed like years ago. About a different fluid.
He flashed a smile at her. Maybe he was remembering, too. "Everywhere. But show me… inside of your thigh."
She looped the chain around her thigh and clasped it, and the little quill stood at attention to write, 'Teacher's Pet.' The ink felt cool and ticklish, and added to her sensual bliss.
Severus was now kneeling next to the sofa, looking in fascination at the fading ink. "Better than I'd expected. You, wrapped in my clothing, bare legs on my sofa, with my words on your skin."
Hermione couldn't keep herself from smiling at the proprietary tone. "I've got something else of yours dripping out of me, I'll bet; that's why I'm wearing knickers."
His eyes cut to her thigh creases, and his nostrils flared involuntarily. One finger traced her knickers.
Just then, though, her stomach rumbled, and she remembered (too late) that this was often a result of coffee on an empty stomach. "Ooh, sorry," she said, "I usually have an apple or some toast or something." He stood and extended a hand to her.
"Let us see what can be had from the kitchens," he said, helping her to stand. "Unless you care to give the Floo a show, you might step around the corner." He patted her bum. "Knowing you, perhaps you would like to give them - "
"Yes, well, I'm not sure you want to start down that path," Hermione rebutted, making sure to give him a firm swat on his own arse. He looked startled, but not angry.
She stepped into the bathroom and cleaned her teeth with the travel brush she kept in her bag, then had a quick wash of the necessary bits and tried to pat her hair down with a bit of water to smooth it. When she heard the Floo close, she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapping the coat around her tightly just in case.
"All clear," Severus said, looking at her. "I rather liked the hit-by-lightning hair, but I suppose that I understand why you didn't want to look like you'd been soundly shagged."
Hermione poked her tongue out at him, then turned her attention to the breakfast tray on the table. She grabbed a plate and a piece of toast.
"No," Snape directed. He motioned for her to lower her plate, which she did involuntarily. The man now leering at her open coat was both familiar and thrilling. "I've no doubt you'd enjoy spilling marmalade all down the front of my clothing, but that is my favourite coat."
Hermione tilted her head in scepticism. "As opposed to the three others just like it?"
"But that one is now my favourite," he said slyly. "Off with it."
"It's cold!" she objected halfheartedly.
"It did look nippy," he agreed. "Off. And sit by the fire, if you like." He removed his cufflinks and rolled his shirt sleeves up, pushing his jumper sleeves with them.
Hermione removed the warm wool and draped it over a chair, then turned around. "Does my breakfast attire meet the dress code now?"
"Turn." Severus made sure that his witch saw his eyes cover her. "Slower, you're not a top!"
Hermione rolled her eyes at him, but she did enjoy the attention when she gave him a slow rotation. He wants to look at me, for the simple pleasure of looking. It made her skin prickle happily. Although, that could have been the gooseflesh from the chilly air.
"Hm. Knickers will have to go," he said, with mock sadness. "They'd be ruined with tomato on them."
Hermione glanced at the breakfast tray, then at the wizard now settling on the floor in front of the fire. "Severus. There is no tomato on those trays."
"Que?" he said, adopting the demeanour of a sitcom waiter.
"There is no tomato on those trays," she said, pointing to each tray.
"No, no, Senorita, 'uno dos tres,'" he said, completing the familiar bit.
"If I'm going to be sitting around stark naked, then you should at least have the courtesy to take off your shirt," Hermione pointed out. "I like breakfast with a view."
Severus mimicked her earlier eyeroll, but he pulled his jumper and shirt off. Hermione settled herself on the hearthrug and twirled her finger in the air, motioning that he should turn. He didn't, instead handing her a plate.
Hermione took a piece of buttered toast and began to add marmalade. She noticed that her companion wasn't partaking of the food.
"Are you - did you already eat?"
"I do not frequently eat breakfast," he said, holding up his coffee.
Hermione raised the marmalade spreader, but instead of holding it over her plate, she deliberately tipped it above her left breast. A glob of marmalade hit her skin, and the chunk of peel in it began to slide.
"Then again, it is not frequently presented so appetizingly," Snape amended, leaning forward. He opened his mouth as though trying to take her whole breast into himself, and he began to lick and eat from her.
The young woman took a bite of her toast to stave off the acid stomach, and then held her breast for him to clean. He nipped the side of it.
When he'd finished with the marmalade (and then some), he leaned back to sit next to her on the rug, and she gave him a speculative look. Hermione picked up the bowl of cut fruit.
"Lie down," she instructed. "I'm still hungry."
He raised his brows, but did as she said. Her hand dipped into the bowl and emerged with a glowing piece of cantaloupe. She placed it on his stomach, then added a strawberry next to it. Fruit after fruit, until she had a selection of several bites laid out on his stomach like a tasting platter. Her teacher watched her with suspicion.
"One presumes that you are aware of the provided pl- " he began, but had to stop because Hermione put a piece of banana in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, watching her.
Hermione put down the bowl and admired her work. "Hm. Your trousers would be ruined with blueberry on them," she mocked, then reached for his belt. Severus made only the merest of protesting grunts, but he lifted his hips slightly so that she could tug his clothing down.
Hermione was presented with a promising organ, and she addressed it. "Not yet, I'm having breakfast." Then, she tucked her hands behind her back and bent over at the waist, bringing her face close to his stomach. She sucked a piece of pineapple into her mouth and chewed it, enjoying the sharp sweetness.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw movement. "Accio cushion!" A throw pillow from the sofa zipped over to Severus's wand hand and he shoved it under his head, propping his head up so that he could see her better. When she gave him a questioning look, he shrugged. "If you are going to put on a show, the least I can do is be attentive."
On the next bite, she took her time licking her way toward his navel, then tongued the strawberry into her mouth. Then, she chased an orange slice from his stomach down to his lower abdomen before she chewed and swallowed. Her tongue on his skin was encouraging his arousal, and it was hard to stay focussed on her breakfast when there was another option for her mouth.
When Hermione checked on her partner, she found him interested in watching her breasts move over him, and as she sucked the final fruit into her mouth, she stretched out next to him and held the strawberry between her lips, offering him a bite. He bit off some of the strawberry, as she intended, and she shivered with happiness at the touch of his mouth on hers. They both chewed and swallowed, and the tension grew between their lips.
He wouldn't, of course.
Maybe she would?
But just when the timing was about to become awkward, he stretched off of the pillow and kissed her, quickly but fully. They shared the flavours of tart strawberry and bitter coffee, and Hermione basked in the warmth coming from the fire, and in happiness.
"D'you know, this morning meal idea is beginning to grow on me," Severus said. "I wonder if I should give the matter further consideration."
He kicked his trousers down and off, and examined the breakfast tray. "No, not particularly appealing," he said. He turned the full force of his black irises on her. "Can you offer me nothing better?"
Hermione turned her palms upward and spread her legs a few inches apart. "Anything you like, Severus."
And that was, in Hermione's estimation, how she had ended up in the position she now occupied.
She lay on her back, giving him access to lick and stimulate her labia, while his cock dangled partway in her mouth. The trouble with this was that if he thrust into her mouth suddenly, she couldn't breathe through her nose.
After a few gasps, Hermione found that it was easier without the pillow under head, but she finally smacked his thigh to get his attention.
"Sorry, can we do this another way? It's - I can't breathe with you pushing down my throat like that."
Severus looked disappointed, but nodded. "What would you like to try?"
"Well, show me how else we can do it. Sixty-nine, I mean," she answered, sniffing and wiping away the moisture in her eyes.
He was quiet, then, "This is - the full range of my experience with it."
Hermione smiled, excited. "Me, too! This is - we get to have a first together! We can sort it out together - oh, this is brilliant!"
Severus looked sideways at her, half-sulk and half-hope. "I have plenty of experience with sex, but this particular act is … I never felt interest before."
"I'm glad you have now! Let's try with me on top, here - " she got up and they exchanged places.
This worked better, and soon after, both were contentedly lying on the hearthrug with tired jaws and tongues.
"If that is 'breakfast,' then I certainly understand the appeal," Severus said.
After a brief rest, Hermione began to wonder what she should do for the rest of the day. She avoided asking, thereby avoiding the resemblance of clingy-ness. She hoped.
But would it be rude to eat and run, so to speak?
"I'm not doing that on the floor again," Snape said. "My back is never going to forgive me. You'll be fine, of course."
"Rug burn," Hermione said, reaching for her wand to heal it.
She glanced sideways to see her partner peacefully resting, so she stood and walked into the bedroom to dress. When she reemerged, he was dressed, too, and was back to looking at the Prophet.
"Er - I guess I'll - " she began.
"Of course," he said. "I neglected to mention last night that you are looking well."
"Thanks," Hermione said awkwardly. She stood behind the sofa and debated kissing him goodbye, so she settled for leaning down and exchanging cheek kisses. He participated, but didn't elaborate on the interaction, so she thought she must've been correct.
"Then," she continued, "I'll owl you, if that's okay." Why was this so bloody awkward?
Severus nodded sharply. Something had failed here.
Hermione stopped in front of the door. She couldn't leave like this. She turned to face him. "I'm not seeing anyone else, and I don't want to. So if you're not seeing anyone else either, then I'm going to assume that I can owl whenever I like, to ask if I can come see you."
"You do not need my permission to owl me to ask for permission," he said, with an irritating note of condescension.
"And I didn't ask for it," she retorted. "I've only told you what I'm planning to do. And maybe I won't ask. Maybe I'll just turn up whenever I like. Maybe you'll find me ensconced in your bath with countless bottles of pink lotions and creams, and your wardrobe taken up by dresses and skirts."
"I cannot fathom why you would reveal your plan of attack to me now, if that is the case," Severus remarked.
"It's only sporting," she said.
Hermione arrived at Grimmauld Place to find that Ron hadn't come home after his date with Lavender the night before, and that Harry wasn't surprised she'd stayed out.
"Dressed like you were, I'd've been more surprised if you had come home last night," he said, handing her an envelope. "Ministry owl has just dropped these."
The seal was large, and Hermione was rather afraid to break it. She'd know, then, what options she had, which meant that she'd have to choose one.
"Igh, failed Divination, which was a matter of luck really, but I got an O in Defence, and several E's! I've even passed Potions," Harry was crowing. "What about you? All O's?"
"Oh, er, I think I'll open it later," she heard herself say. "I'm tired."
Harry looked as though he didn't believe it, but he dropped the topic. Hermione tucked the envelope in her bag and went upstairs.
When she still hadn't opened it, several days later, she realised she was going to need a helper.
The owl came to her instead of the opposite. Hermione was working on intensive, weighted pro-con lists for several possible careers when a tawny owl tapped on the dining room window.
Hermione opened the window to the bird, who deposited a note in her lap and then perched on the edge of the table. It had mottled light brown plumage that would be perfect forest camouflage, and black eyes instead of the golden irises she was used to seeing on Hedwig.
The animal inched toward her, then looked at her as though she had committed a grave breach of bird etiquette. She looked around for an owl treat, but instead found that the bird had closed its eyes and leaned towards her in expectation of being stroked on the head. Hermione relished the soft, fluffy feathers under her fingers, and that was enough to pacify the owl while it awaited a reply.
If you are free on Saturday afternoon, I would enjoy making you less so. -S
Hermione laughed. She could hear him saying it. Unless - did he mean literally? This thought did not produce laughter, but rather a spike of sensation in her abdomen.
I am 'unencumbered,' she replied. The owl extended its head for more affection, then took flight, leaving talon scratches on the edge of the dining table. Hermione pulled a chair out for the owl to use as a perch. She thought it rather funny that an unapproachable man like Severus Snape had such a fond bird. And it had to be his bird, with eyes that dark.
A bit later, after she'd finished filling in the lists (and still hadn't opened her N.E.W.T. results), the tawny owl was back. This time, she let it in and began absently stroking its head as she read: Bring a bag with you this time, so that you don't get Eau de Female all over my clothing.
She hadn't got anything on his coat, she'd made sure of it! But then, as her Snape-o-gram Translator spun up, she realised that this was an invitation to stay overnight with him.
By the way, the letter continued, the owl only gets fussier if you indulge her.
Hermione stroked the bird and fed it a bit of leftover chicken.
A/N: Fawlty Towers, if you weren't familiar with the comedy bit referenced. And if you think you're irritated with our leading man, it's nothing to how I feel. I'm considering bending him over his own … er, never mind. We'll leave that to Hermione, shall we?