Unforgettable

A/N – I still don’t own anything

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Chapter Two –

Severus woke with a start, feeling as though he was suffocating. What in the bloody hell was all over his face? Opening his eyes, he saw the reason for his respiratory discomfort – hair. Great big, bushy, unmanageable hair. Mousy brown hair! He pulled away and sat up, his eyes focusing on the familiar surroundings of his bedchambers.

Bugger it! What had possessed him to bring…? Severus glared down at the sleeping woman’s body, unable to remember her name. He never brought women down to the dungeon. He kept a flat in Diagon Alley for rendezvous such as these. Better yet, he normally connived his way into his lover’s bedchambers. It was much easier for him to leave than for him to be chivalrous and wait for his lover to leave.

Bloody hell! This was a mess. Add to the fact that he barely remembered last night’s events, he had a woman laying next to him with hair that reminded him of Potter’s friend, Hermoine Granger.

The woman next to him sighed in her sleep, the sound of a voice sending a shiver down his spine.

Severus leapt out of bed. Bloody fucking hell! His worst nightmare was sleeping in his bed. His worst nightmare, Miss Know-It-All Hermione Granger, was sleeping in his bed!

He’d bedded a former student! He’d bedded Granger!

She turned over, lying on her back, her mass of curls falling in all directions. The tips of her pert breasts were peaking through the curtain of tangles, enticing him to kiss them.

A flash of memory pierced his consciousness, and he ran his hand over his face as the state of instantaneous arousal mocked him. He’d held onto that hair, run his fingers through it as she…

Merlin’s beard! Her skill at fellatio was bloody brilliant! The touch of her hair on his hip had been one of the most arousing sensations he’d ever experienced. Her hair was soft, not the texture of the barbed wire he’d always imagined it to be. Where had she learned fellatio with such precision?

Potter? Weasley? A sudden spark of jealousy stirred within him.

Pacing the length of the drafty room, Severus stopped long enough to pull his dressing gown over his head. It would not do for her to wake up and see him in this state.

The lust potion still compelled him. How could that be? He’d never come across one so potent. As soon as he set things right with Miss Granger, he was going to hex those redheaded spawn of Arthur and Molly to Hades, then drag them in front of the Wizengamot and make sure they languished in Azkaban for the rest of their putrid lives. They would pay a hefty price for this…inconvenience.

Hermione shifted in her sleep again, moaning as she did.

Severus could feel his arousal twitch as he remembered how loud she moaned when he tasted her last night. Her scent had driven him to feast between her pale thighs several times. He had hungered for the taste, and went about deliberating the subtleties of her body.

He lifted his hand to his face, inhaling the lingering scent. This would not do at all. Why was he lingering over this slumbering witch? She was no different than the rest of them. Perhaps he would forgo Obliviating her. Instead, he would intimidate her. Stare her down. Make sure she would always remember whom she had bedded last night.

That should keep her from approaching him ever again with her inane questions and fantastical ramblings. Miss Hermione Granger had shagged her ex-professor! A smug leer spread across his face.

Severus pulled off his dressing gown and crawled under the covers. It was time to wake Miss Granger properly and send her on her way.

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Her eyes snapped open, every muscle in her body aching. Hot breath tickled the nape of her neck as a callused hand traversed a delicate path over her hip and down her thigh.

“Good morning,” whispered an all-too-familiar voice.

Hermione froze, flashes of last night’s events playing before her like a Muggle horror movie. The punch. Snape standing by the punch. His silent challenges that pushed her to do better. Why had she felt the need to drink that concoction?

He’d found her. She’d welcomed him. They had rutted like wild animals, not once, but several times. Merlin’s beard! What had possessed her?

His fingers danced across the curls at the apex of her thighs. Her breath caught in her throat, and panic set in. Slapping his hand away, she rolled out of the grotesquely ornate bed and landed ungracefully on the cold dungeon floor.

“Not the reaction I had hoped for” her former professor taunted. “But it’s a start.”

Hermione gasped, the floor unusually frigid. “You!” she spat, managing to right herself.

“Yes, Miss Granger,” he said with a leer, leaning back against the plethora of pillows.

Her eyes lingered on the defined, lean muscles of his chest, noticing the sparse black hairs. She shivered, pulling the sheet from the bed and wrapping it around her body. “What did you do to me?” she asked, not even trying to contain the contempt and blame she felt for the man lounging in bed.

“Nothing you didn’t want me to do,” Severus replied, a shrewd smirk on his lips.

“You poisoned me,” Hermione shrieked, walking around the room and collecting her things.

Severus sat up in bed. “I did nothing of the sort.”

“You drugged me!” she accused, finding her gown in a heap on the floor and pulling it over her head. “You vile, disgusting…man.”

Severus’ smirk quickly turned into a scowl. “You begged me.”

Hermione checked her reflection in the floor-length mirror carefully. She touched the love bite on her neck. “Well, that dispels that rumor,” she stated, her inflection dripping with sarcasm. “You’re definitely not a vampire.

“Hardly,” Severus replied snidely as he watched her every move.

Hurrying around the room, Hermione collected her things – garter belt here, nylons there, and shoes near the door. “Yes,” she exclaimed, holding her wand to her neck and putting a concealment charm on the love bite.

She could feel him watching her, embarrassment spreading deep with her. This just added to the humiliation she had already suffered through him – the countless instances of public insults during class and the snide remarks out of class. Most memorable of all took place last year at the first annual celebratory ball.

“How are you enjoying yourself, Miss Granger?” Albus Dumbledore asked.

“I’m well, Headmaster,” Hermione replied easily, tapping her toe and watching the couples dancing around the floor. Harry waved at her as he danced with a witch who was three times his age. That was the price of his celebrity. He had to dance with everybody. Her date, Neville, was dancing with Ginny who was Harry’s date.

“And how are you liking your position at Gringotts?”

Hermione sighed. As a low-level curse-breaker, the daily puzzles she was presented with kept her intrigued. She was responsible for breaking curses on small items, like jewelry and rare gems. She was paid well, but her job was a lonely one. Goblins weren’t exactly known for being social creatures. “I’m finding my position very rewarding, sir. Thank you for the recommendation.”

Sighing, Albus gave her a look over his half-moon spectacles. “I really wish you would reconsider my offer. Professor Flitwick is planning on retiring soon and we’ll need a replacement for Charms.”

Hermione smiled. “I appreciate your offer, Professor Dumbledore, but I don’t think teaching is for me.” She looked toward the dance floor and toward Neville. Poor Ginny wore a pained expression from Neville stepping on her toes..

Feigning interest in the couples dancing, Hermione thought about Dumbledore’s offer. Truth of the matter was that she had thought of teaching as a career, but not at Hogwarts. Snape was there, and she’d given up long ago on the schoolgirl crush she’d had on the great giant bat.

A fit of giggles broke her concentration as Neville and Ginny walked up. They helped themselves to some refreshment. Hermione smiled at her friends, unable to see the person who stood just a few paces behind her.

“It’s a shame,” Albus said thoughtfully. “The night is almost over and there are only a few dances left. Severus,” he called out excitedly. “I believe Miss Granger’s partner is tired out, and seeing as I am an old wizard, perhaps you would escort Miss Granger to the floor and dance with her.”

Hermione blushed at the straightforward nature of the request. She had caught a glance of him earlier that night. He was dressed in his traditional black trousers, black tunic and black robes. Did the man own any other color?

“No,” he said flatly.

Dumbledore cajoled the younger man. “You haven’t danced all night, Severus. I really do wonder why you came. Miss Granger is looking exceptionally lovely this evening and I could see her tapping her toe to the music earlier. It would be a pity to let the opportunity pass.”

She was sure she was bright red by now for she felt her embarrassment warm in her cheeks.

“I have not imbibed enough spirits to find the elusive beauty of Miss Granger to which you refer. Perhaps you should invest in new spectacles,” Severus replied, his tone unusually reserved.

“Really Severus –”Dumbledore began.

“Her frock is exceedingly boring. Even with a proper frock, she would have no figure to tempt a man. Her hair, as usual, is a chaotic disaster. And her mannerisms are deplorable. Even if I were to be tempted by Miss Granger, I would need to go on an all-night bender at which time I would hopefully have the good fortune to pass out. Good evening,” he declared and walked off.

All eyes were on her and she wished she could Disapparate right there. But she didn’t want to cause a scene. Ginny was quiet. Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. Only Neville had the nerve to say anything.

“I—I think you look smashing, Hermione,” Neville stuttered, his scared eyes watching the retreating back of his worst fear.

She’d never been so humiliated in her life, except for now as memories of the night of passion she’d just shared with the venomous man surfaced. The night was full of whispered sighs and lusty moans as they fed their passionate longings. She had begged him the first time. The look of superiority and disdain when he had taken her that first time would be forever ingrained in her mind. He was cruel, perhaps the cruelest man she’d ever known. Would there be no end to his insults now? Would she ever truly be rid of him? Would she have to remove herself from the wizarding world to finally rid herself of him? Instead of waiting for his debasing insults, she would be the first to strike.

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He didn’t know why it bothered him when she concealed the love bite, but it did. Something possessive inside him wanted all to know she was his.

But she wasn’t. Hermione had made her view of last night perfectly clear. Vile. Disgusting. Those words were enough to dent any wizard’s ego. Luckily, Severus wasn’t one to be swayed by ego…very easily.

“You’ve taken to using potions to get laid, Professor?” Hermione asked vehemently.

Her accusation hung in the air, challenging him for an answer.

“I told you when you walked up to the punch bowl that one of the Weasley twins had spiked it,” he answered, his tone low and dangerous. “I didn’t realize with what until it was too late.”

“That is a likely story,” she spat. “You told me the punch was spiked after I had taken my first sip. Why not before?”

“I have many immunities to standard potions, and the ability to identify them. An antidote is readily available for me,” Severus explained calmly. “After I had tasted the punch, I had realized what those two dunderheads had done. I needed to drink the rest of it to understand what they had brewed. Before I could warn you, you had already taken your first sip.”

Scoffing, Hermione stepped toward Severus. “You of all wizards should realize how incompetent Fred and George Weasley are when potions are involved! You’re deceitful. Exactly what I would expect of a Slytherin. But to stoop to illegal potions? Surely there are prostitutes who could overlook your hooked nose, greasy hair, and yellow teeth. Isn’t that what they are paid for?” Hermione smiled maliciously.

She started searching for the door out of the dungeons, clutching her robe and shoes in her arms. “I can’t Apparate. Where is the way out? Show me the way out or I will hex you until you beg for mercy.” She pointed her wand at him for emphasis.

“There is no need for hysterics, Miss Granger,” Severus assured her, pulling the cover with him as he sat up and eyeing his wand on the nightstand. She was looking at his bare chest with veiled lust. “Could you turn around, please? I wouldn’t want to offend you with my appearance any more than necessary.”

Hermione lowered her wand slowly, turning on her heel.

Picking up his wand, Severus exhaled slowly. He had the sneaky suspicion that her accusations would not end in his chambers. She’d made her opinion of him poignantly clear. Her remarks were vicious and cruel, characteristics he didn’t associate with her Gryffindor bravado.

He’d set out to humiliate her, but she had done the unthinkable. She had reminded him of himself. And that was unforgivable. There was only room for one Severus Snape.

He raised his wand and pointed it at her back. “Obliviate!”

*****


A/N –Many thanks to Kathy Rose for beta reading and Larilee for the encouragement.