Hilltop Cottage

Severus awoke with a start and felt around urgently for his wand, only to find the soft flesh of a warm witch instead of his trusty stick of wood. With a sigh, he laid his head back on the pillow and gazed at the ceiling above him, trying to calm his pounding heart. It had been a while since he’d had a bad dream, but when they came, he was always left feeling like he had been flattened by a tonne of bricks.



It had taken some time for Severus to come to terms with himself after the war. Bumbling about the house on his own had given him space to think and rage at the bloody injustice of the whole sorry mess. For a large part of January, to coincide with his birthday, he had thrown himself a wonderful pity party. A crate of Firewhisky had been the only guest invited, and Severus had wallowed for a week, until the whisky had run out and he’d sobered up enough to smell himself and do something about it. It had taken strong self will to get into some sort of routine, but once he had started on his potions lab, he had begun to feel a glimmer of hope for the future.



He had never imagined love in that future, and as he turned his head to look at Hermione, who was sleeping like a small dormouse with her patchwork quilt tucked around her, he felt bemused, as if he was living in some sort of alternate reality. It was frightening to think she had become his be all and end all in such a short space of time, but perhaps that was what love was about. It certainly surprised him.



Hermione had initiated their love making up to this point, and each time, it had been sensual and loving. They tended to each other with gentleness, drawing out their passion slowly like a rose opening to the elements. But there was a part of Severus that longed to be unleashed. He could feel it bubbling inside him as he thrust into Hermione’s moist flesh, the desire to not just make love to her but to really fuck her with abandon. The thought thrilled him and made him cower at the same time, and he tried to tamp it down. But the more he did, the more he wanted it.



Severus was no stranger to rough sex, even though he hadn’t sampled it himself. He had seen plenty of it at Malfoy Manor when the Dark Lord was holding court. Severus would stand ramrod straight at Voldemort’s right shoulder, trying not to flinch or show any reaction to the screams that punctured the endless grunts and groans. He had always felt repelled by it, and while he had no wish to hurt Hermione in any way, he felt something at the edges of their lovemaking, tempting him to test it out.



He stretched out his hand and lifted a length of her hair, rubbing it between his fingertips. Rolling onto his side, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pushing his hand under the quilt so his fingers could caress the underside of her breast slowly. Confident now that his advances would be welcomed, he nuzzled her ear and nibbled on her exposed earlobe.



Hermione stretched a little, shuffling her bottom backwards until she met Severus’s erection, and made a contented noise in her throat as he tweaked her nipples.



‘Morning,’ he murmured in her ear. Hermione smiled sleepily and twisted so her lips could meet his.



‘You’re keen,’ she said. She was unable to disguise her pleasure as Severus’s hand drifted down between her legs.



‘I am. Very.’ Severus moved a little and rolled Hermione onto her back, throwing the quilt from her naked form and dropping his face to suckle at her breasts until she moaned at him for more. Trailing a path from her breasts, he teased at her pussy with his tongue slightly, tasting her for the first time. He felt Hermione’s breath hitch as he became bolder, licking with small, darting flicks at her clitoris until she started to squirm. But he wasn’t ready for her orgasm yet. This time he would coax it from her with his cock, and he moved himself over her, his eyes blazing as he thrust.



Hermione was so aroused, she felt as tight as a coiled spring. For the first time, Severus was in control of what was happening, and she was more than happy to surrender to his overwhelming sex appeal. She arched her back as he thrust into her, and he grabbed her buttocks, holding her in place as he tipped his pelvis upwards. His thrusts were shallow now, the tip of his penis rubbing firmly against her sensitive g-spot, and Hermione groaned as the new sensation took over. Severus grunted and thrust harder, and Hermione cried out with pleasure.



‘Oh, god, yes,’ she moaned out. ‘Do that again.’



Severus felt a rush of power at her words, and the part of himself he was trying to tame yelled out in victory. He started to pound into Hermione, their flesh slapping together as sweat glistened on his chest. Hermione felt possessed by him, unable to do anything but lie there and just take it, and she let herself become totally absorbed by the feeling of his cock inside her and the sense of her impending orgasm. She gripped the sheet in her hands to keep her body from sliding up the bed.



‘God, I’m coming. Shit, oh yes,’ she shouted out, her orgasm tearing through her and causing her to become an uncontrollable mass of flesh as she bucked beneath him, moaning, her head tipped back and her vagina clamped so firmly around his cock he could hardly thrust into her. Her inner walls rippled along his length, and the orgasm he had been holding at bay during the last few thrusts wouldn’t stay back any longer. Severus tightened his hold on Hermione’s arse and almost knelt before her, pulling her towards him with each thrust as he entered her, tight and deep. He could feel every sensitive inch, and he increased his pace quickly until with a roar, he came as fiercely as Hermione had, his whole body jerking and twitching. It felt like his orgasm was lasting forever. At last he slowed his pace, savouring the last amazing sensations of their bodies joined together.



Slowly, Severus relaxed his grip on Hermione and slid out of her with an audible wet slurp, collapsing beside her with a satisfied sigh.



‘You can say that again,’ Hermione murmured. ‘I don’t know what you just did to me, but you can damn well do it again sometime.’



Severus chuckled softly. ‘No problem,’ he replied, slightly breathless.





***



Pleasures of the flesh were the furthest thing from Hermione’s mind as she walked up the short path to Harry’s house in Godric’s Hollow.



Never one to shy away from confrontation when she knew she was in the right, Hermione had been determined to deal with Harry and his damn nerve as soon as she had recovered the feeling in her legs. It was all Severus could do to make her at least eat a slice of toast before she marched off with all guns blazing.



Steeling herself, Hermione hammered on the bright red front door and waited, tapping her foot impatiently and twisting her wand between her fingers where is lay just inside her jacket sleeve. She was quite prepared to hex Harry if she had to.



The door opened, revealing a sleepy and dishevelled Harry wearing an old grey t-shirt and baggy jogging bottoms. Blinking blindly, he fumbled to push his spectacles onto his face. He had the decency to look momentarily abashed, and his shoulders slumped as he withered under Hermione’s gaze. He stepped aside and allowed her to walk into the house without saying a word.



‘Want some tea?’ he asked her as he followed her down the narrow hallway and into the kitchen.



Hermione stopped walking and turned to him with her face set.



‘No, Harry. I do not want tea. I would quite like to know what makes you think you have the right to comment on my private life, though.’



Hermione’s voice was low and calm, but there was an undercurrent that Harry recognised. He knew he would have to go carefully if he wanted his dangly bits to stay in one piece after she left. He ran his hands through his hair, making it stick up ridiculously. Normally, it would make Hermione laugh and try and flatten it with the palm of her hand, but right now, she thought he looked like a prat, and her eyes narrowed as she waited for him to start talking.



‘You have no idea what sort of a week I’ve had,’ he said, pushing past her into the kitchen and filling his kettle regardless.



‘I bet you didn’t get a Howler from a good friend,’ Hermione snapped.



Harry paused and looked up at Hermione owlishly through his lenses. ‘I’m sorry about that. But since you left I have had to field questions left, right, and centre, not least of which from bloody Kingsley. You left everyone in a real hole, Hermione; so much work was left unfinished. No one can get the projects completed because you are the only one who can do that stuff.’



Hermione gritted her teeth. ‘It was only research, Harry. It can stay on hold for as long it needs to--we didn’t have deadlines or a bloody war to fight. And none of that has anything to do with my love life, so just answer my bloody question!’



‘I thought you were sunning yourself on some beach, Hermione. I told everyone you needed a break, had to have a holiday. I made it all up because you didn’t think it was necessary to tell me the truth, and then, this!’ Harry grabbed a crumpled copy of yesterday’s Prophet and waved it at her.



Hermione looked at Harry’s indignant face and fought the urge to laugh at him. She knew exactly what this was about, and it was so pathetic it was beyond belief.



‘So tell me,’ Hermione said quietly, holding Harry’s gaze. ‘Is this because I didn’t tell you my plans and that you have been made a liar? Or is it because of Severus?’



A nerve in Harry’s jaw jumped as he pressed his lips together in a thin line. Truth be told, he had been pissed off with Hermione ever since she had upped and left on a whim, but seeing her with Snape had been the last straw. He respected the man immensely, acknowledged the good he had done. He even understood and felt grateful for the lengths he went to, avenging his mothers’ death and protecting him. But the man was still Snape, a snake who never changed his skin, and regardless of all he had done, Harry didn’t like him. The thought of him and his best friend as a couple made his blood boil. The last thing Hermione needed was to rot away in some godforsaken hole with an older, miserable wizard who was doing nothing and going nowhere. What about her ambitions, her dreams? She could have it all, if she wasn’t about to throw it away.



‘Is it serious?’ he asked her.



‘That’s none of your business,’ she retorted.



‘Don’t friends share the gossip about their love lives?’ he smiled wanly, trying to lighten the mood.



‘Knowing the way you feel about Severus, I would rather keep it to myself,’ Hermione said. She dropped her gaze, not knowing what else there was to say.



‘He’s so much older than you, Hermione. What on earth can he offer? Out there, you could meet someone younger and intelligent, who would support your career and be beside you to share all of your success. You might even have a family one day. He won’t give you that, Hermione. You’ve already cut yourself off from all of us. He’ll only hold you back even more.’ Harry spoke sadly. He truly believed what he was saying, and to his relief, Hermione nibbled on her bottom lip, a sure sign that she was listening to him.



‘Severus is the only person who understands how I feel, Harry. You, Ginny, Ron… you’ve all moved on, made a better life for yourselves. It has never been that easy for me. I’m still not over the war, and Severus understands that. He’s helping me to cope, Harry, he really is. He’s not the man you think he is.’



Hermione looked up at him with a soft smile as she thought of Severus waiting for her at Hilltop Cottage, and a feeling of warmth spread through her.



‘I think you’ll find he’s not the man you think he is, Hermione.’ Harry said, a touch of ire in his voice.



Hermione bristled and glared at him for a moment. Harry’s words had cut her to the quick, because part of her feared he was right.



But she was headstrong, and she knew her own heart. And right now, her heart belonged with Severus. Without another word, she turned on her heel and left Harry staring after her.