It Happened One Hallow's Eve

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 30 ~ The Night Before the Battle

In the Room of Requirement, Harry kissed Ginny passionately, drawing the witch close to him and locking his mouth to hers as if he would never release her. His hands moved over her body frantically before stopping at her throat and beginning to unfasten her robes.

Next to the young couple stood a large four-poster bed spread with Gryffindor colors. The covers were pulled back and candles hung suspended in mid-air, casting a soft glow over the room.

Ginny panted against Harry, almost overcome by his hunger. Harry had never been as ardent or forceful as he was now. Usually he was gentle, hesitant, and always made sure to receive her verbal consent before moving forward towards intimacy. But he asked her nothing as he pulled her robes apart. Finally, Ginny managed to pull her mouth away from his.

“Harry…Harry,” she gasped as the boy-who-lived slid her robes down her arms. His eyes were smoldering as he looked at her.

“You’re going so fast, Harry,” Ginny said softly. It wasn’t a complaint…just a statement of fact.

Harry’s eyes cooled somewhat as he realized she was right. It was as if he wasn’t thinking about how Ginny felt at all. He just wanted to get at her. He released her.

“I’m sorry, Ginny,” he said softly, “It’s just that…that…”

Harry faltered.

“What, Harry? What is it?” she asked.

Harry looked at her, his green eyes full of a longing that went beyond desire.

“I want to feel that I’m alive,” he said, his voice breaking slightly, “You make me feel more alive than anything when I’m with you, Ginny.”

The witch looked at Harry and fought back tears. He was facing Voldemort tomorrow, and that meant he was facing his own death. She might not ever see him alive again.

Ginny let her robes slide the rest of the way down her arms and drop to the floor. She stood before Harry in a short silk nightie, her brown eyes full of love. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Harry Potter, I’m going to make you feel as if you will live forever,” she breathed, moving back into his embrace and falling back into the bed taking him with her, intent on giving the wizard that one eternal moment.

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Severus waited in his study impatiently, his dark eyes resting on the floo. Where was the witch? He was dressed in his black bathrobe and slippers, a pair of boxers beneath. After a moment, he began to walk toward his bedroom, fully intending to dress and go retrieve Hermione, when suddenly the flames in the floo turned green with a “foomph.”

The wizard turned around and watched as Hermione stepped through, dressed in a white bathrobe and barefoot. The robe was tied, but she still held it tightly together. She looked at him.

“I’m here, Severus,” she said softly.

“I see,” he replied, striding up to her, “It took you long enough, witch.”

His eyes swept over her tightly clutched bathrobe.

“I…I had to get ready,” Hermione said, blushing slightly. “I wanted to look special for you.”

Severus arched an eyebrow at her.

“Special?” he asked, eyeing her robe with more interest now.

“Yes,” Hermione said, taking a deep breath and slowly untying the sash to her robe. She let the sash drop but didn’t move. The robe remained closed.

“Hermione?” Severus said as the witch’s eyes took on a glazed look.

He looked at her robe again. What in the world was under it that made her react that way?

Severus stepped closer to her and gently parted the fabric, taking in the sheer Slytherin colored negligee beneath it and the tiny silver thong. Her wand was tucked in the string around her waist. The wizard’s eyes glittered as they swept over her body.

“Green and silver,” he breathed, sliding the robe down her arms and tossing it on an armchair. His eyes met hers. The witch seemed to be holding her breath.

Severus shook his head slowly.

“Never has a witch come to me this way, or looked more alluring,” he said in a low voice, “You are a gift, Hermione Granger…a true gift.”

Hermione began to step into him. Severus stopped her.

“Wait,” he said, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing something. “I want to give you this. A gift for my gift.”

He let the item dangle down. It was a platinum necklace with a heart-shaped pendant attached. Wrapped around the pendant was a silver serpent with emerald eyes. Its mouth was opened as if to strike anyone who dared try to touch that heart.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Hermione breathed as Severus walked behind her, moved her hair aside and placed the necklace around her neck, fastening it.

“It’s one of a kind, like you are, Hermione,” the wizard replied, leaning down and kissing her throat softly. Hermione sighed at the contact of his lips.

Severus turned Hermione to face him, his eyes resting on the pendant for a moment, then her face.

“If anything should happen to me tomorrow, Hermione, I want you to know that my intentions toward you have always been honorable. You are more than a plaything, more than a temporary lover. You are a brilliant, vibrant witch who brings me much happiness, more happiness than I have ever known. It is my hope you will one day agree to become my wife and the mother of my children,” the wizard said.

Hermione stared at him, then her eyes became unfocused. She teetered then slumped, Severus catching her. The witch had fainted dead away.

“Dear gods,” Severus said, looking down at the unconscious young woman in his arms, “That certainly wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.”

Severus lifted Hermione and carried her into the bedroom. He laid her down gently in his bed and began to harden as he looked down on her. That negligee was certainly arousing.

Severus knew he should take out his wand and enervate the witch, but his naughtier side disagreed, so instead of going through the motions of losing a battle of conscience, he immediately gave in, removing his slippers, robe and boxers in that order. He bent over the unconscious Hermione and untied the little strip of ribbon that held the flimsy material of her negligee together, spreading it on either side of the witch and revealing her body. His eyes drifted over her full breasts, flat belly and the small patch of silver resting at the apex of her thighs.

“Merlin,” he breathed, swallowing.

He removed her wand and laid it on the nightstand, then slowly, he eased into the bed and lay next to the witch, placing his hand on her belly and caressing it gently, watching her face. Hermione’s eyes fluttered, but she didn’t wake. Severus lifted the light fabric, slipped his fingers under the thin strip of her thong and pulled it down her legs gently, slipping it off her feet, then bringing it to his nose. He sniffed it and the scent of her pussy made a small growl issue from the back of his throat. He dropped the thong off the side of the bed and rolled over Hermione, lifting himself on his hands and parting her legs with his own.

“You’re being very wicked, Severus,” his conscience chided him.

“Yes I am,” the wizard agreed as he reached down and adjusted his cock, placing it against the witch’s core. Hermione stirred now, her amber eyes fluttering open. She looked up at the wizard staring down at her, confusion in her eyes.

“Enervate,” Severus breathed, sliding into Hermione, the witch gasping, arching in surprise and pleasure.

“Severussssss,” she hissed as he filled her, his length and hardness a welcome intrusion. Hermione’s mouth dropped open

“Mmmm,, witch,” he growled down at her, his eyes half-lidded as she surrounded him in heat and tightness. He lowered himself, kissing Hermione passionately as her arms wrapped around him, trying to draw him closer.

Severus began to move, thrusting into Hermione, longing to get closer to the witch, willing her body to blend with his own. This wasn’t about relieving his hunger, although hunger was there. This was about claiming, connecting, becoming one with the witch through his desire. And above all, it was about being remembered.

If he died tomorrow, Severus wanted Hermione to remember him all her days.

He pulled away from her mouth, the witch gasping and moaning as he took her ardently, but not brutally. He brought his mouth to her ear, the scent of her jasmine scented hair filling his nostrils as he spoke to her, still flexing his pale body, still parting her body with his own.

“That pendant you wear is symbolic, Hermione,” he breathed as the witch cried out softly, “The heart is yours, and I am the serpent claiming and protecting it. It is a symbol of my esteem, my affection, my protection…my…my…”

Suddenly the wizard tore into Hermione fast and furiously, the witch crying out his name sharply before Severus caught himself and slowed, gasping, tracing her jawline with his lips for a moment before returning to her ear.

“If I die tomorrow, others will remember me as a cruel professor, or as a suspected Death Eater, or as a spy for the Order. Only you, Hermione Granger, will remember me as man like every other man…who had dreams of love and happiness…a wife and family. Who longed for a normal and contented life. Never forget me, Hermione,” he breathed as he possessed her, “Never forget I was a man like every other man.”

The wizard stopped moving for a moment, Hermione turning her face to his and looking into his dark eyes, her breasts rising and falling with passion, her body undulating, his cock still embedded deep inside her, Severus still connected to her by more than flesh.

“You are more than any other man, Severus. You’re my love. I will never forget you,” she said softly.

Severus felt his chest tighten as he looked into Hermione’s amber eyes and saw the sincerity there.”

”I can die a happy man then, Hermione,” he said in a low, intense voice, rolling to his back and pulling the witch on top of him, never breaking their link.

Hermione began to kiss him as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her in place and driving into her body, jerking the witch as he took all he could of her sweetness, her voice breaking over him. He had never heard a sound more beautiful than his name on Hermione’s lips as he buried himself inside her again and again.

Hermione broke away from Severus’ mouth and she pushed herself upward, her hair wild around her face, the negligee hanging off her shoulders, breasts and body bouncing as she took over, riding the wizard’s cock with abandon, her eyes locked to his face, biting her lower lip.

Severus groaned as she slid over him, rolling her hips and changing her angle as she took the dominant role. He was content to be submissive, to let her have her way, reaching up and sliding the flimsy green material down her arms, then caressing her shoulders and breasts before gripping her waist.

“So beautiful,” he breathed up at her, a grimace of pleasure on his face as her tight, slick sleeve squeezed, caressed and suckled him. Suddenly, Hermione stiffened, growing hot beneath his hands, then letting go with a shriek, her searing release flowing over the gasping wizard, pooling on his loins, wetting his balls as she fell forward, shuddering with bliss.

“Yesssss,” Severus hissed at her, caressing her hair for a moment, then rolling back on top of the witch, lifting himself up on his hands and plunging inside her hungrily, wanting more of her softness as she throbbed around him. He was mindful not to lose control, though the gods knew he couldn’t go deep enough. But he was thorough, his cock like iron, rigid, demanding, taking every inch and iota of her inner gold, seeking that treasure between her thighs and finding it stroke after delicious stroke.

His hips lifted high as he fucked Hermione, his dark eyes smoldering down at her as she gave him all she was, loving his strength, his penetration, his possession. Severus Snape loved her. Hermione knew he did, and his love was as powerful as he was dark.

He just couldn’t die. She wouldn’t let him die.

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The couple made love twice more that night…Hermione insisting they stop because Severus would need his strength and wits about him in the morning. She now lay in the crook of the wizard’s arm, playing in his hair as he slept, his long lashes resting against his cheeks. Hermione ran her fingers over the large hook of his nose and smiled softly as she remembered referring to it as a “beak” one day after he had taken thirty points from her for helping Neville Longbottom. Actually, Neville had been about to explode his cauldron, but that didn’t keep Severus from taking the points anyway.

“You should have just ducked for cover, Miss Granger,” he had snarked, turning away with a billow of robes.

Hermione’s smile faded as she thought of what the morning would bring. Severus had told her nothing of his plans, though Harry had confided the Potions Master was going deliver him to Voldemort and he would have the sword of Gryffindor concealed under his robes. Hermione knew once that sword was drawn, the dragon would be let out of his lair and Severus’ duplicity would be known. Voldemort might strike him down dead right there.

The witch shuddered. No. No, it couldn’t happen like that. When she left for the Great Hall tomorrow morning, she would slip out of the castle. There was more than one exit. Then she would disillusion herself and find Severus. She would help him and Harry fight. She knew a number of deadly spells thanks to the book Severus gave her. They would come in handy.

Hermione settled back, and closed her eyes. Presently sleep came.

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Severus slipped out of bed at around six-thirty that morning, leaving Hermione asleep in the bed as he readied himself. He showered, shaved, brushed his teeth then dressed in his usual manner, black silk boxers, white silk shirt, black trousers, Slytherin belt and black socks. But instead of pulling on his boots, he put on a pair of black trainers. Undoubtedly, he would be doing some running.

He returned to the bedroom and saw signs of Hermione stirring. The Potions Master looked down at the witch, his eyes growing soft as he memorized her…how wild her hair was, the sated look on her face, the curves of her body beneath the sheets. He was tempted to draw them back and gaze on her beauty once more, but her eyes fluttered open. He quickly grabbed her wand off the nightstand and stuck it in his pocket.

“Severus?” she said sleepily, fighting for lucidity. “You’re dressed.”

”Yes,” he said, leaning down and kissing her lips lightly. “I must go talk to Albus and Mr. Potter before we begin the Battle.”

Hermione sat up.

“Will I see you before you leave?” she asked him.

Severus shook his head.

“I’m afraid not. You will have to wait until I return…if I return,” he said softly.

Hermione’s eyes glistened for a moment, then she leaped out of the bed and clung to him, sobbing.

“I don’t want you to do this! I don’t want you to go, Severus! I don’t want you to die!” she cried, hanging on to him so tightly the wizard could hardly draw breath.

“I know, Hermione. Unfortunately what you want doesn’t mesh with what I must do,” he said softly, “Be strong witch. I need you strong.”

Hermione released him just enough to kiss him desperately. Severus allowed it for a moment, then gently untwined her arms from around his neck, then pushed her lightly back into the bed, his dark eyes sweeping over her naked body appreciatively.

“I must go,” he said suddenly. He walked to the bedroom door. Hermione got out of the bed.

“I have to be in the Great Hall before seven-thirty,” she said, looking for her wand. “Where’s my wand?”

Severus turned toward her.

“You don’t need it. You will be staying here until the battle is over,” he said to her evenly.

Hermione frowned at him.

“What?” she asked in disbelief.

“I am warding you in my bedroom until the battle is over. If we are successful, I will return and release you. If I am killed, the wards will drop on their own,” he said dispassionately.

Hermione ran toward him.

“I don’t want to stay here! I want…I want…” she began, grabbing his robes.

Severus looked down at her.

“I know what you want, Hermione. You want to throw your own life away for mine. You will not do it. You will stay here until the battle is over,” he said, pulling her hands away and walking her back toward the bed. Hermione began to struggle frantically, trying to fight the wizard. Severus lifted her and threw her into the bed. She bounced.

“You can’t do this!” she screamed at him.

Severus arched an eyebrow at her.

“I can, and am doing this,” he replied shortly, turning and heading for the bedroom door.

“You’re a bastard,” Hermione seethed after him.

Severus turned back to her and gave her a smirk.

“I always have been…I don’t know why you would think I’d change,” he purred at her. “Now good-bye witch. Hopefully, I will return to unward the door myself.”

The wizard opened the door and stepped through, closing it behind him.

Immediately, Hermione ran for the door, pulling at it ineffectively. She banged on it frantically.

“Severus? Severus! You let me out of here! Severus!” she cried.

In the study, Severus stared at the bedroom door, listening to Hermione rage for a moment before walking to his bookshelf and sliding back a false front. He removed the blade of Dresden, eyeing the sheathed dagger. He put it in his pocket, then reached into his other pocket and removed Hermione’s wand, placing it on his writing desk for her retrieval in case he didn’t come back. It would be more disturbing to the witch if her wand were retrieved from his corpse.

Severus turned back to the bedroom door. Hermione was still banging on it, though her voice was growing weaker. He knew she was crying.

“Goodbye, my love,” Severus said softly, exiting his rooms and billowing towards Destiny

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A/N: Severus is on his way. I am sorry that the lemons were so short this go round. I had trouble focusing. But I do hope I at least conveyed the emotion passing between the two. So, he locked her in. I think that’s all he could do. Well…it’s down to the wire now. Please review, and have a Happy Thanksgiving. ****