Delicate

Chapter Three: Old Habits





She\'s got a way about her

I don\'t know what it is,

But I know that I can\'t live without her



Severus stepped into Hermione’s bedroom and was immediately inundated with the scent of her. It was ridiculous and no doubt deviant that he was so aware of her, that he couldn’t help but think of her when he smelled lavender and vanilla. Not that anyone would be surprised to hear that he had deviant thoughts about his young house mate. It wasn’t intentional, but after her peculiar reactions to him the previous night he had dreamed of her. He dreamed of her on her knees, her head bowed and her naked body shielded by nothing but that impossible curtain of hair. It was all he could think about since the moment he opened his eyes.



He was relieved to learn that she would be out of the house for the day being fitted for proper robes for when school was back in session. It offered him the opportunity to snoop, something he was rather good at after years of practice spying for the order. He was patient, waiting at least an hour after she had gone before stepping into the private recesses of her boudoir just in case she returned for some forgotten item. When he was confident that he wouldn’t be discovered he entered and simply stood in the center of the room breathing deeply of her sweet scent.



His eyes scanned the room, noting the soft shades of violet and cream and feminine touches of lace and flowers. She had a thing for flowers it seemed because he always found vases and bowls filled with them throughout the house. Always wild flowers, never roses thankfully. He stared at the wide, double bed with the cream painted wrought iron headboard he had bought her and marveled at the number of pillows she had piled atop the lavender coverlet. He would never understand the need for pillows that weren’t used. He had never fully grasped the concept of things that were merely ‘decorative’ though Merlin knew Lucius Malfoy had tried to teach him.



As his eyes drifted to the wood furniture, mismatched pieces he had found in the attic of his grandmother’s old home that he had painted the same ivory color as the headboard in anticipation of her impending habitation. He could still recall the surprise in her eyes when she had seen the room filled with furniture chosen especially for her. It had nearly made him smile to think he had pleased her so. Nearly. It was confusing to him, he didn’t want to think of her that way, didn’t want to think of her as a woman. But unfortunately his subconscious was in league with his long neglected cock and refused to listen.







Severus never claimed to have a moral compass that pointed due north, but there were some areas, gray or otherwise, where he drew the line. He did not hurt women in any way, shape or form and he did not get involved with students, former or current. So the question was… Why was Hermione creeping into his dreams? Why had his head been filled with thoughts of her all damned day? Why was he standing in her room like some sort of stalker trying to figure out why she was suddenly like a magnet, slowly pulling him in?







Despite the turmoil going on inside his head he scanned the room. There were two bureaus, one tall and one smaller dressing table with a padded stool. The surface of the tall one was littered with framed photographs of her friends and even had one of him scowling at the camera. He recalled the day she had taken it, Christmas, and he remembered how she laughed at his lack of enthusiasm for being photographed. Her dressing table was covered in small ceramic boxes for holding jewelry and littered with bottles of various cosmetics, lotions and sprays. He opened the top drawer of the tall bureau and swallowed hard. Her lingerie drawer, just as he suspected. Everyone it seemed kept their underwear in their top dresser drawer. He didn’t think to wonder why, in fact, as he stared at the mess of brightly colored silk, cotton and lace he wasn’t doing much in the way of thinking at all. The woman had more knickers in more colors, styles and fabrics than he had ever seen! But it was the stack of stiff, neatly organized garments off to the side that held his attention.









Corsets in varying shades and styles. They weren\'t traditional corsets but a more modern style with hook and eye closures and flexible boning. He had thought it strange to feel the framework of such an unusual foundation garment on such a young woman, wondering if he had mistaken the perception of his fingers but he could now see that he had not been wrong at all. It seemed, given that a traditional brassiere was nowhere to be seen amongst her underwear, that Hermione preferred the cinching support of a corset beneath her clothes.







"Isn\'t that fascinating." he muttered as he closed the drawer and made his way to the dressing table. Small, inexpensive post earrings lay in a little ceramic dish along with a couple of stray hairpins and one of those heavy elastic bands she was always twisting her hair into. He lifted the lids of some of the boxes she appeared to collect, finding an array of necklaces and rings, nothing of any real value, costume pieces mostly. With his lips pursed he opened one of the small drawers and his eyes widened when he saw the odd assortment of items. A thick leather wrist-cuff he had seen were wear on occasion, scented oils and a long ivory silk scarf. His brow arched when he moved it aside with his fingertips and found a rather realistic looking phallus if one discounted the bright green color of it. She certainly surprised him with that one. Severus would have assumed that she was a bit timid and prudish in the bedroom. While they were friends who conversed on every subject possible their personal lives had always remained firmly off limits. Neither had thought to bring it up with the other, not that he actually had a personal life. His last sexual encounter had been roughly four years prior with a woman he couldn’t recall during a revel. Not counting the intense masturbatory event in his morning shower that literally brought him to his knees as he replayed the previous night\'s dream in his head.









In fact, it was that explosive reaction to thoughts of her that pushed him to the point of snooping, rifling through her underwear like a pervert in search of answers. Instead of answers he was finding more and more fantasy material involving racy lingerie and sexual aides. Not what he was hoping for. He closed the drawer and walked slowly along the perimeter of the room, looking over her bookcases filled to overflowing with various books and magical publications. He found himself squatting at her bedside and reaching for the stack of books on the bottom of her nightstand with their spines turned towards the wall. Slave to Love, Bound by Desire, Chains of Lust, Passion\'s Prisoner.









"Circe be damned," he said softly as he shuffled through the titles, shocked by the graphic covers depicting women and men in various stages of bondage. He flipped the top book open to where she had it marked and swallowed hard when he read the very vivid, very graphic description of a man being serviced by his pleasure slave. He set the books back in place and opened the small drawer above the shelf. Inside was a leather bound journal. He withdrew it and then rose to sit on the edge of her bed as he opened it. It was her journal from the previous two years.







He knew that he shouldn’t read it, that he shouldn’t invade her privacy any deeper than he already had but he never made any claims of sainthood. He was a spy; just because he was technically "retired" it didn’t erase the ability or the urge to dig deep into the minds and lives of others. Maybe reading the nonsensical prattling of a young woman\'s life would dampen the embers of lust that were stirring inside him for the enigmatic witch who was suddenly looking so good to him. He opened the cover and read the handwritten title page....The Diary of Hermione Granger, The Brightest Witch of Her Age(Sarcastic eye roll intended). He smirked at the little side note to demonstrate her scoffing at the moniker she had eventually come to abhor and turned the page, the date indicated her first day at university.







September 1, 1998

I arrived safely at school today and already I have my room unpacked and organized. I\'ve managed to get ahead on the required reading over the summer and already have the outlines together for several papers I expect will be required on the syllabuses. I am eager to begin classes tomorrow...but tonight I find myself rather out of sorts. I miss him, I didn’t expect that.









Him? Who was it that she missed? Potter? Weasley? He scanned over the next several entries detailing her classes and her impressions of her professors and classmates. Her entries were fairly short, usually only a line or two, quick and to the point unlike the miles of parchment she used to turn in when she was his student. He might have given her better marks had she done her course work the way she documented her life. Occasionally, however, he would find a lengthier journal entry that gave him deeper insight into the woman she was.











Novemeber 30, 1998



It\'s quiet in the dorm tonight. That is rather unusual but welcome as it tends to be overly noisy here. If it wasn’t forbidden for safety reasons I would place permanent silence wards on my room. Sometimes it seems that the witches and wizards here are more interested in partying than getting an education. I find it difficult to socialize with them the same way I often find it hard to socialize with my friends. I feel so much older than them, even though I am the same age. My priorities are vastly different than theirs as are the things I find interesting. Last night I heard the witch next door exclaim that she wasn’t going to come home unless it was riding on a wizard hung like a hippogriff. I rolled my eyes at her immaturity and lack of morality.

But later, when she returned home, mission accomplished, I could hear them through the paper thin walls and it made me feel so lonely. And aroused. I haven’t felt a man\'s touch since early summer when Ron and I broke up. Not that what happened between Ron and I was spectacular or anything. He was my first and I was his so it was expected that things might be awkward at first, but we were getting better at it, I almost came the last time we were together, almost. Granted my thoughts had been on HIM at the time, as they always seem to be. Ron certainly wasn’t hung like a hippogriff but he was sweet, his kisses were nice and his body was always so warm and his weight felt good against me. I miss that.

But more than that, I miss him.









Who in the hell is him? Severus wondered in irritation as he flitted through the annoying journal, skimming over the uninteresting entries as he tried to figure out who the ‘him’ was that she pined for.









December 31, 1998





In a few hours it will be 1999. While everyone else is kissing someone at midnight I will be here alone thinking of him. It’s ridiculous, I know that it will NEVER happen but I can’t help it. It’s such a cliché, having a crush on a teacher, though he isn’t my teacher any more, is he? Doesn’t matter, he will never see me that way. I wonder if he is kissing someone to bring in the New Year? I wonder what his kisses are like. Would they be soft and tender or would they burn me alive? I wish I could know how it would feel, just once, to be in his arms. I wonder what kind of lover he is, I’d imagine he would be intense, the way he always is…he’d be very conscious of the little things, very detail oriented…I need to stop thinking about him this way, its not good for me. When I saw him on Christmas it became painfully obvious that my feelings for him are intense, somewhat painful actually. But it was also painfully obvious that he thinks of me a as a child. Yet here I sit, missing him.









“I don’t believe it,” he said softly, flipping through the pages some more.









May 20, 1999





I have decided to take courses over the summer holiday. I could spend the months with Harry at Grimmuald Place but I think I would rather apply myself to my studies and finish early. Besides, Michael is going to be here. We went out again last night. He’s handsome enough, intelligent and the sex is alright I suppose. It’s just a little dull. But we’ve only done it twice, surely it will get better…I hope.





Besides, every time I step foot in that house I miss him. Always him.







Almost every entry ended the same, with her missing him. He had no idea that she felt anything for him above friendship. What had he done to earn her affections? He wasn’t a handsome man and he certainly wasn’t charming. He wasn’t wealthy or witty and while he was capable of socializing he wasn’t a social person. So why did this brilliant young woman continually write that she missed him?







Michael? He never met a Michael and he never heard her mention him. Not a single time in their almost nightly conversations did she mention seeing anyone. Nor did she ever tell him that she missed him. He scanned over several more pages about her summer classes and a weekend she spent with her friends and come to visit him before finding more that caught his attention.









July 10, 1999

I ended things with Michael this morning. He didn’t take it well, insisting that I was making a mistake but I know that I am not. He is a wonderful wizard but there is just no spark there and no matter what I tried I just couldn\'t climax when we slept together. I know that sex isn’t everything in a relationship, but it IS a big part of it and don’t I deserve to have orgasms too? He called me frigid, said that every witch he has ever been with has come like crazy with him so it had to be something wrong with me. Maybe there is something wrong with me, I couldn’t climax with Ron either. It isn’t a problem for me when I masturbate. I can have orgasm after orgasm when I touch myself. I fantasize about him when I do it, I imagine his hands on me, his mouth, I envision his cock inside me. My gods, writing it now has me hot and aching. Id be lying if I said I hadn’t imagined him when having sex with Michael. It was those occasions that brought me the most pleasure. I wonder if he could make me come....Gods I miss him.









Severus loosened the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling too warm as he read through several more pages of her journal, more classes and a new wizard named Reginald. He couldn’t believe that the witch had such...salacious thoughts of him. How had he not noticed? Hermione wasn’t exactly the best at shielding her feelings. She had always been a bit of a bleeding heart wearing her emotions on her face for the world to see. How did he not see that she felt something for him?





January 22, 2000



I think it is possible that I have figured out something about myself that scares me. I broke it off with Reginald last night but like an idiot I let myself be conned into break-up sex. I fully expected it to be just as boring and unsatisfying as it had always been but he was angry and somewhat rough. I still didn’t come but it was the best sex I have ever had. Does that make me depraved? When I came home and climbed into the shower I could think of nothing else, wondering at my reactions to his rough and slightly abusive treatment of my body. I especially enjoyed it when he fisted his hand in my hair and pulled. What is wrong with me? My body still ached and I felt empty and unfulfilled. So as usual I thought of him. This time it was different, the fantasy was so real...I could hear the silky purr of his voice when I closed my eyes and slid my fingers between my legs while the hot water poured down over me. I let my mind go and tested a new fantasy. I always fantasized about him saying naughty things to me but this time I imagined that he held my hands restrained at the small of my back and bent me over the banister of the main staircase at school while he fucked me really hard. I came harder than I ever have in my life. I was dizzy and weak and found myself sitting on the shower floor for a half hour before I dragged myself to bed and literally passed out. I need to do research into this, to find out if this is some sort of fluke or if this is who I really am.





He liked his birthday present...I miss him.







He reached down and shifted the semi-erection that had begun to form as he read her words. Gods damn it! The witch was...she was...dangerous.









May 29th, 2001



I\'m all packed up and ready to go. I still can’t believe that I agreed to move in with him, I must be a glutton for punishment. Still, the alternative is to move in with Harry and while I love him dearly I can’t handle him hovering. Not to mention the fact that he has it in his head to find me a husband. Just because he is going to marry Gin later this summer does not mean that I am interested in joining them in the state of marital bliss. I still haven’t decided if marriage is right for me, if it is something I want. It will take a very special wizard to be able to make me happy...besides, it\'s unfair of me to consider having a relationship when my heart is very much engaged elsewhere, futile as such loyalty may be. Still, I feel that this is the right choice for me at the moment. Severus is my friend, in recent years he has become my best friend, though we share no intimacies between us. Some things are better left unsaid I suppose. It won’t be a hardship certainly. Ill have a home, some pocket money and come fall a job. He thinks I don’t know that he conned McGonagall into believing he needed an assistant so that he could suggest me for the job, but he\'s wrong. It\'s sweet really, the way he tries to look out for me without me knowing. Like I wouldn’t notice the small deposits made to my vault over the last few years or the extra galleons that would appear in my satchel after I had gone to visit him. He\'s a good man and if his friendship is all I can ever hope to have then I will be grateful for it. I just wish that he would see me. Really see me...and maybe....no time for that now, he is waiting for me. I cant wait to see him.







So she knew he was trying to help her and kept quiet about it? She was awfully secretive. There was a hell of a lot more to the little witch than he ever suspected.









June 4th, 2001



I went out with Ginny and Susan for drinks and had way too much red wine. I have a headache this morning and could use a pain potion but Severus is in the shower. The thought has crossed my mind more than once to join him when I hear the water running so early in the morning. He\'d probably hex me. No, he wouldn’t have his wand in the shower...he\'d just strangle me for my impertinence. Ugh...why did I go there? Now I have the image of him frowning at me, his hair wet and slicked back from his face as the shower beat down on his shoulders and back...he\'d reach behind me with one hand and grab a handful of my hair and jerk my head back. With his other hand he would push on my shoulder, forcing me to my knees in front of him. He would tell me that I was too bold, scold me for daring to interrupt his shower and then order me to suck him which I would do eagerly. I wonder what he would think if he knew how I much I wanted to be on my knees for his pleasure, how much I want to give myself to him, to be whatever he wants me to be? I can hear him moving around in the shower...I wonder if he strokes his cock, his soap slicked hands moving over it, back and forth....does he groan when he comes? Shout? Or is he silent, gritting his teeth and holding back all sound as he ejaculates? I swear Id give anything to know the answer.....I want him.









"For the love of Merlin,” he swore, reaching up to rub the back of his neck as he stared at those three very powerful words. I want him. Such a simple statement with so many meanings, so many possibilities. What was he going to do with what he discovered? He couldn’t get himself involved with such a young woman, especially a former student. He wouldn’t put their friendship at risk, wouldn’t take a chance of ruining another relationship because he was too dark to be normal. No, he would simply forget that he had ever learned of her feelings, forget that he ever entertained a curiosity about the beautiful young witch who shared his home and took care of him as though it were a treat to do so.









He slipped the journal back into her nightstand and closed the drawer. As he exited her room he immediately missed the soft, sweet scent of lavender and vanilla. He would forget. He had to.













She’s Got A Way by Billy Joel



She\'s got a way about her

I don\'t know what it is

But I know that I can\'t live without her



She\'s got a way of pleasin\'

I don\'t know why it is

But there doesn\'t have to be a reason

Anyway



She\'s got a smile that heals me

I don\'t know what it is

But I have to laugh when she reveals me



She\'s got a way of talkin\'

I don\'t know what it is

But it lifts me up when we are walkin\'

Anywhere



She comes to me when I\'m feelin\' down

Inspires me without a sound

She touches me and I get turned around



She\'s got a way of showin\'

How I make her feel

And I find the strength to keep on goin\'



She\'s got a light around her

And everywhere she goes

A million dreams of love surround her

Everywhere



She comes to me when I\'m feelin\' down

Inspires me without a sound

She touches me and I get turned around



She\'s got a smile that heals me

I don\'t know what it is

But I have to laugh when she reveals me



She\'s got a way about her

I don\'t know what it is

But I know that I can\'t live without her

Anyway