#4 ~ The \"Up Against the Wall\" Wars

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR. All situations are my own.
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Chapter 18 ~ The Serpent Strikes Again


Hermione woke in her four-poster, aware of strong arms possessively wrapped around her waist and a hard, warm body spooned around her. It was Severus. He was asleep, dressed only in his drawstring pants and breathing shallowly, his chin resting on the top of her curly head. She looked around the room, startled for a moment by all the mirrors, then remembered their aborted tryst.

“So, do you have any eye-opening observations or speculations you’d like to share about your little experiment?” said a sleepy but sarcastic voice.

Severus scooted back and down so his head rested on the pillow. His arms loosened a bit so Hermione could roll over and face him. She wasn’t in any pain anymore, but couldn’t help but shudder at the memory of the torment she had suffered a few hours before.

“It hurt a lot,” she murmured. He raised both his eyebrows.

“So you went through all that, to tell me this?” he said with a hint of a sneer.

Hermione didn’t answer him. She felt like a fool for not listening to his warnings.

Severus sighed. “Hermione, I appreciate your desire for knowledge greatly. Your intelligence and inquisitiveness are just as alluring for me, as your lovely, curvaceous little body.

He raised himself up on his elbow, so he could look down on her.

“You grasp and understand difficult concepts in moments, that take others weeks, months, or years to understand. Your logic is for the most part, impeccable…and your arguments are compelling, though this time…it was to your detriment. Hermione, you have an amazing mind, and great courage. You have developed into a relatively well-rounded young woman. But there is one thing that you cannot think into being…and that is wisdom. Your mind leads you to make decisions that are not wise, Hermione. You need to realize that every truth doesn’t have to be personally experienced or discovered. You do not have to be hit by the Cruciatus Curse to know that it causes horrible pain, or by the Avada Kedavra to know it causes death. So many others have experience those curses, that the results are a given.

Severus’ eyes softened as he gazed at the young, beautiful witch stretched out beside him. His black eyes swept down her body and returned to her face. She was listening to him…not thinking this time, but listening.

Sometimes, my love,” he said gently, “you have to accept the word of others who are wiser or more experienced than you in the ways of the world. You are brilliant, but you need to grow into wisdom. I hope you’ve learned a valuable lesson tonight.”

Hermione blinked up at him, her eyes wet. “I should have listened to you,” she whispered.

“Yes, you should have. But what’s done is done. Now you know for yourself what deatheaters are capable of,” he said, dropping back to the pillow and looking up at the mirrored ceiling, “I trust next time I give you warning about pursuing anything potentially harmful, you will at least give it careful consideration.”

“Yes, Severus,” she said in a small voice.

He turned to look at her, his eyes beginning a slow burn. “Of course, I shall have to undo the damage done, and quickly. Such an experience can make a woman…lose her desire for further intimacy. That would be a terrible shame in your case. You’re such a passionate little minx.”

He moved a little closer to her.

Hermione experienced a little stab of fear. He had hurt her so badly. Severus saw her hesitation in her eyes, and began to smooth her hair.

“Remember how I make you feel, Hermione,” he whispered silkily as his hand dropped to her shoulder, then drifted to her back, rubbing small, soothing circles on her skin. He drew her close to him and held her.

“Love is in my pain, sweet. Love, strength and passion. I do all I can to bring you pleasure, when I take my own…that hasn’t changed.”

Hermione relaxed against him, listening and finding comfort in his smooth, rich voice. His hand moved down to the small of her back as he kissed her tenderly on her lips, not attempting to invade her mouth.

“I will never hurt you that way again, Hermione. Let me take that hurt away,” he said as he pressed his body against hers, his erection evident. She sighed, and felt the heat begin to rise. She pressed back against him, rubbing herself gently against his cock. Her eyes flicked to the ceiling, and she saw herself moving against him. It was so erotic. She felt a small gush of lubrication roll through her and gasped slightly.

“Yes,” Severus said, placing his mouth on hers and this time opening her mouth and tasting her deeply. His hands grasped her ass and guided her against him, moving his cock sensuously up and down in mimicry of the sex act. Hermione groaned.

“Severus,” she whispered, her desire flowing across him in a flood of urgency.

Severus quickly removed his pants and slid her nightgown up around her waist. He rolled on top of her, parting her thighs, reveling in the heat of her apex, his eyes fixed hungrily on her face as he positioned himself against her, rubbing his the head of his cock up and down against her softness and drinking in the begging look in her eyes.

“Here is the kind of pain you need,” Hermione, he gasped as he slid himself hard into her to the hilt, knocking against her cervix brutally. She whimpered, her eyes closed in pleasure.

“No, a whimper’s not what I want,” he said, lifting her legs over his shoulders, his black eyes even blacker with lust as she opened to him. He raised himself up on his hands, and said, “Look at me, Hermione.”

Her eyes flew open, and he drew his long, thick length out of her slowly, letting the head rest against her opening.

“Look at my cock,” he growled. Her amber eyes shifted downward, taking in his taunt body poised over hers, and his long, thick, veined organ, glistening with her juices, the purple head nestled between her labia.

“Serpent of Slytherin,” she breathed, looking up at him.

“Damn right,” he growled, plunging his full length into her. She screamed. He pulled back again, poising his cock at her entrance.

“Roar for me, Gryffindor,” he snarled as he slammed into her again, bouncing her hard off the mattress. She screamed again.

“I love a screamer,” Severus breathed as he began to fuck her, whispering obscenities as he rolled his cock deep inside her, side to side, back and forth, shoving against the delicious resistance of her body, forcing himself deeper into her heat, her tight walls dragging deliciously hot and wet along his shaft, sending pulsing tremors of pleasure from the swollen tip of his head to his slapping, tightening balls. He watched his penetration, willing himself to punch through her, as his hips pumped rhythmically, throwing her body back and forth with the power of his thrusts, her breasts bouncing under the crumpled silk of her gown, making her slowly slide up the mattress, over the scattered pillows until her head hit the headboard, and still crying out, tears of passion pouring down her face, Hermione flung her arms up, pressing her palms against the wood to keep her skull from colliding with it as headboard began to bounce off the mirrored wall with such strength, it shattered the silver glass.

Severus was oblivious to everything but his mission to rediscover every secret part of her with a vengeance, slamming his cock into her at angles never meant to be explored, hitching his pelvis against her clit, rolling against it, making Hermione buckle with doubled ecstasy against him. Sweat poured down his body, oiling him, making his movements slick against her body, his thighs sliding along her soft cheeks as he battered her with brutal passion. Beneath him, Hermione had no identity of her own, he had driven it out, thrust it into temporary oblivion. Now, there was only this beautiful, passionate man, her once unattainable, sarcastic, cruel, Potions Master, claiming his fulfillment, beating like a heart inside her, his cock the pinnacle of all pleasure and pain. She was his instrument, he, her conductor, and she sang a primal song beneath him, her body welcoming the harsh slide and slam, the rhythmic slap of his insistent flesh against hers, his driving rod of iron plunging deep inside her, rising and falling like a turbulent sun, scorching the very horizon of her being in his sweltering descent and rebound. She cried out his name over and over as if invoking him, as if summoning him up, the perfect love and lover, born whole and lusting from the depths of all desire she had ever felt or dreamed of, to possess her, to fuck her to the very gates of paradise, then drive her through, on her back, leaving a trail of lust and glorious consummation in his wake.

Hermione began to tremble, then to quake around him, her pussy clenching, her body temperature soaring as if she invoked a flame spell, and he plunged into her heat, seeking the source of her fire, longing to, needing to ignite her into blazing, gasping, screaming orgasm, then extinguish her with his own release, his own hot flood. He stroked into her trembling body with all the might and muscle left at his command, the cords of his arms straining to keep him aloft, a river of perspiration streaming down his spine, whispering encouragement as he fucked her to her peak. Hermione exploded with a scream and a hot clutching, gripping pulse that seemed to shake him down to his soul. His balls drew in upon themselves with an unbelievable pressure, compressing his entire being to one delicious, pulsing point in space. He groaned, thrusting himself deeper inside her, lingering there on the edge of pure rapture for a moment, before he blew, howling her name, his thick seed spurting, gushing through his shaft, a liquid love filling her body and quenching both their thirsts for complete and utter union.

Severus collapsed upon her, gasping for breath, his face buried in her damp hair, lips pressed against her ear, feeling her heart beating in tangent with his own. How had he ever lived without her? And how could he ever? He brushed the riot of hair away from her forehead and kissed her temple tenderly and whispered, “I love you, my hot little Gryffindor.”

Hermione smiled a tired, satisfied smile, her amber eyes soft upon him.

“I know.”

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A/N: Ah…make-up sex. Good stuff. I guess Severus had taken the high road with what happened between him and Hermione. She is young and headstrong...and didn\'t give him any credence for his greater wisdom and experience. She would have worried him to death about it for a long time. It\'s hard to protect a person from herself. So he saved himself some grief and gave her what she thought she wanted. He has no guilt about it. Sometimes, a person just has to learn the hard way. I\'d like to think she learned an important lesson.