Room of Requirement

Hermioxplaxplained the entire story to an incredulous Ron, Harry and Ginny. Ron and Harry were disgusted but supportive, and Ginny was thrilled to have a wedding to help plan. Hermione talked it over for a few hours, until Ron excused himself for Quidditch practice. Harry and Ginny excused themselves for a “walk,” and Hermione owled Severus.

Fifteen minutes later, he strolled in to the Room, which had transfigured itself back into a gaudy bedroom. This time the walls were a deep red, a velvet covered waterbed up against the wall. She waved her wand, and her muggle yoga pants became a velvet tanga, her fitted tank top a matching baby doll.

He walked through the door as she sat on the bed, devouring a platter of chocolate-covered strawberries. “Please, don’t ever tell anyone about this room, Severus. I believe I might die if I have to share it.” She bit seductively into a large, ripe strawberry, and he leaned into her, licking the juice dripping from her chin.

“A woman in your condition shouldn’t be handling such heavy objects.”
He nudged her, reclining, into his lap with one hand, the other grabbing an enormous, ripe strawberry from the massive tray. She ate slowly, languidly, as he absentmindedly stroked her belly. The charm from earlier on still slightly detectable, he cupped his hand over the gentle thudding. Finally, after an eternity, every strawberry was gone. Hermione had been incredibly hungry lately.

She hopped off the bed and headed to the mini-fridge to see if there was any chocolate, or ice cream, or anything else sticky and sugary. As luck would have it, all of those things were there. As she grabbed a jar of Nutella, Severus silently crept behind her and thrust his clothed pelvis against her. She moaned.

“My turn,” he said, taking the jar from her and leading her to the bed. She peeled back the covers to reveal red vinyl sheets. He laid her down, gently, and sat beside her. With a wave of his wand, they were naked. He dipped his finger into the Nutella and she licked it contentedly from him. He traced the sweet chocolate over her nipples, down her belly, and over her soft curls. She moaned with delight. He slowly, torturously began licking his way down, not stopping until each area was clean, although he had chocolate all over his face and in his hair. Finally, he reached her clitoris. He began to lick her vigorously, and suck relentlessly. He stopped occasionally to dart his tongue in and out of her, her moans becoming steadily louder and more intense. She sucked harder, and with waves of pleasure bordering dangerously on pain, she came hard and fast, screaming his name. The explosions in her body subsided briefly.

“Stop, stop... stop...” but he didn’t, and instead his motions became more intense. “No...” she moaned, “Please... stop... please, please, please don’t stop! Don’t stop! Oh.... Oh! Oh! Oh!” She came intensely, again and again, until he finally relented. She collapsed, drenched and flushed, on the rubber sheet, and he loomed over her, grinning devilishly.

“Uhhh....” she moaned, “Mmmmm...” Unable to speak, she lay back on the bed. She rolled over, and traced the chocolate in a trail beginning at the base of his neck. She traced and then licked down his chest, feathering sideways to his collarbones and then nipples, down his abdomen. She flicked at his navel, then crept over hipbones with her tongue, finally settling between his legs. He was rock hard, waiting for her. She brushed the tip of it with her tongue, and he groaned.

“Oh, Hermione.” She continued her gentle, agonizing movements, until suddenly, she took all of him in her mouth, moving swiftly up, then all the way back down. She firmly grasped the base of him and moved it up towards her mouth. After a few deep thrusts, he came, spurting hot and salty fluid down the back of her throat. She swallowed, deeply, and smiled at him, licking her lips.

He grasped her hand and led her away from the bed, into a small doorway she’d not noticed earlier. It was a bathroom, a large, sunken whirlpool tub in one corner, a curtained area in the opposite one. He drew back the curtain, and she heard water running. Lots of it.

She followed him in. It was a spacious shower stall, five smaller shower heads running down each wall. Overhead, a massive rain-style showerhead hung, dumping water as if from a bucket. He sat on a chair in the center, and pulled her down on to his lap, facing him.

Through torrents of water, she shouted in his ear, “Severus? Can you go again so soon?”

“Hermione, I’m a wizard. Of course I can.” He swished and flicked and entered her swiftly, even harder than he’d been earlier. As warm water pounded down on them from every conceivable angle, they made love with a ferocity absent in their many trysts. It was primal, base, but intensely amorous. They came in sync for the second time ever, and collapsed onto each other, breathless, embraced by the heavy pounding of water.

After a long shower, washing the residue of sugar, chocolate, hazelnuts, and lovemaking off of themselves, they dried of with fluffy white towels and went back to bed. The bed was now covered in high thread count cotton sheets, a white down duvet and numerous fluffy pillows. They lay in the exquisitely cozy bed, talking deep into the night. They drifted into sleep, spooning, his hand cupped protectively over her belly.