Mi Morena (loose translation: My Brunette)

Mi Morena Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I still don’t own anything you recognize and I'm not making any money from it.

Mi Morena
I saw you dancing in the rain
Holy water
Shining like a silver flame
Come like a ghost
I will watch you dance alone
Mi Morena
You’re the light within my soul

Severus stood out in the rain with his eyes closed as he was asked, but when she stepped out of his embrace and he felt her leave, his eyes shot open and he turned around, just seeing her frame disappear into the pitch black night. A lightening flash and the dim flicker of candle light showed her at the entrance to the castle and then she was gone. Stunned, confused, and still very much aroused, he was frozen in place.

Had he done something wrong? Why did she leave so suddenly? He knew he was moving rather quickly. He still didn’t know who she was. He certainly hadn’t planned on kissing her, but the storm and her movements had overtaken his mind. And she had given him every encouragement.

As he stood in the rain, staring toward the castle door it suddenly opened and the woman was rushing toward him again. The closer she came the less he could see of her, but he knew instinctively it was her; his body could feel her approaching.

Soon she was back in his arms and he felt whole. His lips found hers and his hands traveled southward to lift her against his form once again, cradling her warm center against his erection. While he was content to simply stand there, kissing this woman, he was both shocked and pleasantly surprised when she brought her hands up to his neck and began unfastening the endless buttons on his shirt.

Halfway down his shirt she became frustrated and impatient. He heard a low growl escape from her throat along with the soft popping noise as the last of his buttons flew to the ground. A low hiss issued from his own mouth as the cold air hit his torso and her lips left his and began warming his neck and chest.

He then quickly became aware that in her haste she hadn’t reissued her request that he keep his eyes closed. Unfortunately, as he looked down at her he realized the lightening had died away and it was just too dark to discern anymore details about her.

Her hands were moving over his chest, almost in a massaging rhythm. When her mouth finally found one small flat nipple it held there while her hands moved up to his shoulders and pushed his shirt off his arms. Helping her, he released the buttons at his wrists and let the shirt drop to the wet ground, where it was promptly forgotten as he regained his hold on the woman in front of him. He brought his hands to her head, threading one hand through her hair, encouraging her mouth’s pursuit as it nipped and licked its way to the other side of his chest. His other hand came up to once again rest at her cheek. His hardened heart melted slightly when she turned her head into his hand, kissing his palm before she returned her attentions to his chest.

The rain had started to abate and chills were running up and down his spine. Then he felt her lips trail down his abdomen, her breasts brush across the bulge at the front of his pants and her fingers begin working at the fastener and he could no longer decide if the chills were from the cold or from his passion for this mysterious goddess.

Her lips were still traveling at a maddeningly slow pace down his body. Her fingers finished with his pants and her hands moved around to his hips and quickly, but carefully, pushed his pants and boxers down to his ankles. His breathing was growing more and more labored as her lips moved around his lower stomach and upper and inner thighs. At this point all he could do was watch and feel as her lips first grazed his balls then kissed the area between them and his hard shaft. He felt like he could explode when her tongue darted out to lick the area and then run up the veined underside of his penis. The feeling only intensified when her mouth finally wrapped around the already weeping tip and sucked him slowly in as far as she could.

He was in paradise. That’s the only explanation he could fathom for the feelings that he was experiencing. Her body continued to rock forward and back, her head changing position around his aching flesh, her tongue greedily lapping at the warm liquid seeping from the tip. Unconsciously his hips slowly and gently started rocking in rhythm with her body, trying to get closer, deeper, with every thrust.

She seemed to realize how close he was to cumming and she very slowly, inch by inch, let his erect flesh slide slowly from her mouth until she had released it completely.

The rain had dissipated entirely now and the clouds were beginning to move away. He could see the basic outline of his woman’s form and squinted through the darkness as she rocked back on her heels, lowering herself to the wet ground.

The blood had completely abandoned Severus’ brain now and for the first time in his life his body was more in control of his actions than his mind was. In a second he was kneeling between her legs. He rested there for a moment, his hands going to her ankles, making little circles with his thumbs on her skin. His hands moved up, over her smooth cool calves, toward the hem of her nightdress which was resting above her bent knees. His hands slipped under and traveled over her thighs. When he reached her core he carefully avoided it, instead moving his hands above it, applying gentle pressure to the soft flesh right above her mound. He felt her pelvis push into his hand briefly before it sunk back to the ground as she pulled her body into a sitting position. Her hand reached up and tangled in his dripping hair and her lips fluttered over his jaw before coming to kiss both sides of his mouth. He was about to turn in to her kiss when he felt her other hand come to rest on his, over her stomach. He thought she was about to pull away but was amazed when she kissed him full on the lips while guiding his hand down to cup her sex.

Upon feeling her wet heat, he lost what little control he may have had left. He used his weight to guide her back to the ground, never breaking contact with her mouth or center. His tongue plunged into her mouth at the same moment two fingers slipped into her moist, tight passage. His fingers moved in and out of her while his thumb tormented the tiny bud of nerves above her entrance. When her hips began to push wildly into his palm, he replaced his fingers with the head of his hard member. Just before he entered her he lifted his head, wanting to look into her eyes as best he could in the darkness. He could see the whites of her eyes and the moon glinting off her teeth as she smiled at him.

He sent a silent thanks to whatever gods were watching, who saw fit to give him this woman and then slowly began slipping inside her heat. As he moved inside of her, feelings of contentedness overtook him and the clouds shifted. The moon began to make an appearance, illuminating the two lovers for all to see.

If there had been a fly on the dungeon walls it would have heard the sighed, ‘Hermione,’ escape Snape’s lips. Crookshanks’ ears perked up also, as his owner moaned an audible ‘Severusss’ before rolling over into a more contented sleep.

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Severus woke the next morning feeling more refreshed than he had since before taking the Dark Mark. He allowed himself to revel in these feelings a little longer, languidly stretching in his bed. As he stretched he felt a cold dampness settle over his stomach. Shocked and confused, he looked down and pulled back his sheets, finding himself and bedclothes covered in his seed. He then became aware of two things; first, he didn’t know why he’d ejaculated and second, he appeared to be ready to do it again if the throbbing in his lower regions was any indication.

A quick vision of curly brown hair flashed in his mind.

Figuring he must have had a dream about his rain woman, he cast a quick Scourgify on his bed and made his way to the loo to let a warm shower wash away the remnants of his dream. He closed his eyes under the spray and another vision flashed before his eyes, this time of deep brown eyes. His eyes flew open in confusion; he hadn’t seen the woman’s eyes. It had been too dark. He shook his head in bemusement; his mind must be creating detail where he had none.

He finished his shower quickly and readied himself for his day.

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Hermione woke up in much the same way. Revitalized and very aroused. As emotionally hesitant as she felt about her visit with Snape her body wouldn’t let her forget its reaction to his touch. Encouraging him to meet her in the rain had been a spur of the moment impulse that she couldn’t justify even to herself. Having him touch her had been completely unexpected. The fact that his kiss had sent warm shivers down her spine, or that his hands created a tingle in the pit of her stomach she couldn’t remember having ever felt before had excited and scared her. Granted the only other boy she’d let get as far was Ron in his room at Grimmauld Place. The instance had ended in laughter; both realizing that the time for them had passed.

Last night had not ended in laughter. It ended with her running away. It had been the only logical thing she could think of to do; her fear overtaking her passion. When she had arrived back in her room she had somehow fallen instantly asleep, replaying the meeting over and over in her dreams, going further, becoming more intimate with Snape each time. This sleep had been her most refreshing in years, and although she was uncertain as to how to proceed with Snape, she had a feeling of happiness she couldn’t hide.

She hummed in the shower and smiled all through breakfast. She didn’t even once roll her eyes when Harry and Ron tried telling her about the latest professional Quidditch matches, or when Lavender and Pavarti tried to engage her in a discussion of fashion choices for the Halloween celebration quickly approaching. Her mind was so pleasantly diverted that she also didn’t notice Ginny carefully observing her with a knowing smile.

On the way to Charms Harry must have asked her a question because suddenly he stopped and she almost walked into him, letting out a small squeak when he caught her arms to prevent the collision.

‘Hermione,’ his green eyes took in her peaceful but preoccupied expression. ‘You seem happy today.’ He said it so quizzically it was practically a question.

Knowing she couldn’t hide the smile on her face, or give him any details, she decided to stall. ‘What do you mean Harry?’

‘Well I’m not complaining or anything but ever since the final battle you’ve been a certain way… sad really, but who hasn’t been. Today though, you seem so much happier. To the point of distraction obviously, and when have you ever been distracted?!’

Not one to stay quiet when it came to Hermione, Ron added his own opinion. ‘You’re bloody well glowing, you are!’

Hermione didn’t know how she felt about that, but she quickly gave her two best friends a smile and attempted to evade Harry and Ron’s unasked questions. ‘Maybe I have been a bit off lately, but last night I had a great sleep and feel fabulous today! Finally moving on, you know?’ She gave each boy a quick peck on the cheek and watched as they both turned pink. ‘Thanks for worrying. Let’s go, we’re going to be late!’

Harry and Ron watched Hermione as she sped off toward class, both feeling as though something was still going on and that she hadn’t really explained anything.

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By lunch neither Snape’s nor Hermione’s mood had changed. Most of Hermione’s classmates and even Professor McGonagall had commented on how well she looked. Snape had been pleased at the frightened looks on his students’ faces as his snarky persona returned. It wasn’t until they were seated in the Great Hall that either of them questioned their own good mood.

It started when Ron and Harry asked Hermione about their Potion’s exam on Friday. At the mention of Potions, Hermione’s eyes darted to the staff table. As she glanced over Snape, her senses perked up and she could feel his lips on her once more, his hands on her neck and back.

Sensing her stare, Snape’s eyes snapped up from his food and bore straight into her. He had a fleeting surge of lust, which he quickly shook off when he registered who he was looking at.

Why is that silly girl staring at me? And what is that expression on her face? he wondered curiously.

Before he could analyze it further, she lowered her eyes and looked away to answer a question Potter was asking.

‘Well that was unsettling,’ he mumbled to himself, still trying to forget the immediate feelings of desire he’d felt when he’d looked up at his student.

He tried then to blame the response on his mystery woman. Just the remnants of last night, he thought to himself. Of dancing and a magical kiss. Of the most freedom he’d felt within the fortress-like castle of Hogwarts in a very long time. The moment his brain processed this information, he felt as if he’d been hit with a powerful crucio.

How could he not have thought of it before? Well he really hadn’t been thinking, now had he?

His woman really couldn’t just be anyone. Not just anyone could enter Hogwarts’ grounds. His mind immediately went into overdrive, trying to think of any professor here with a figure like that, with skin that could possibly be that smooth, or with hair that luxurious, even dripping wet.

McGonagall was too old. Hooch’s hair was too short,. Sprout was too rounded. Trelawney was too flighty to have covered his eyes or whispered as she did. His list continued and each name got crossed off for various reasons until he arrived at the ominous conclusion his mind had drawn even before he started.

‘Oh dear Merlin! She’s a student,’ he gasped with dread.

The day had started off so well, like a new beginning for him, and within minutes he felt like his world had shifted and left him behind, utterly lost. The feeling alone baffled him. Why should he feel this bereft? He had only seen this woman twice, and hadn’t really seen her at all. He didn’t have any idea who she was, only that she was a student, and as such he had to walk away. He just knew that the brief contact they’d had connected him to this woman irrevocably.

He really didn’t know what to do with himself, so half way through his meal, without a word to anyone he simply stood up and left. He walked out the door behind the staff table, not noticing the two pairs of eyes watching him go.

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Seeing the Potions Master stalk out so suddenly and seemingly without provocation, she had to ask, ‘Albus?’

‘Yes, Minerva?’ She could tell he was trying to suppress his grin and hide the twinkle in his eye.

She narrowed hers and the scheming wizard. ‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’

He sighed in resignation and turned toward the curious Professor. ‘You recall those outings Ms. Granger likes to take during storms?’

His eyes were blatantly twinkling now in a way that was making Minerva McGonagall nervous. ‘Yes of course. What has that to do with Severus?’

‘I believe our dear Potions Master may have a little crush.’ He stated, his lips twitching with a jovial smile.

Minerva was getting more confused with each of Dumbledore’s cryptic statements. ‘Albus, what are you talking about? Severus has “a crush”? He hasn’t shown the least bit of interest in a woman since Lily. Who could he possibly be feeling an attraction for now and what does it have to do with Miss…?’ Her eyes grew round and wide.

‘Albus! How? Why? Aren’t you going to do something about it? She’s a student! She’s young enough to be his daughter!’ Her voice was quickly rising above a reasonable volume, but Albus placed a quieting hand on her forearm, which also served to calm her a bit.

‘It is ok Minerva. Somehow I don’t believe he knows it’s her yet, but rest assured I’ll be keeping and eye on things. And if I am not mistaken, Miss Granger is experiencing similar feelings toward our dear Potions Master.’ He paused to let Minerva digest the new information.

‘If I am correct, I shall offer them both my most sincere congratulations… come graduation.’

Noticing how speechless he had made his Deputy Headmistress, he chuckled as he pulled her out of her seat. ‘Come Minerva; let us go enjoy this unseasonably warm October day.’

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Hermione had missed Snape’s hasty departure and subsequently was still in a relatively good mood, although slightly nervous, when she knocked on the classroom’s dungeon door that night.

When she didn’t hear the customary command to enter, she knocked again and then went in when the force of the knock pushed open the door. She quickly glanced around, trying to discern where her Professor was and why he wasn’t ready for their weekly lesson.

Not seeing anything amiss, besides his apparent absence, she walked further into the room and noticed a shaft of light coming through the door at the back corner of the room. She drew closer to it, attempting to pick up a sound or see something that would help her decide how to proceed. She soon found herself standing at the slightly open door, raising her hand to tap lightly at it.

‘Mmmm…’

She wasn’t sure what the sound was meant to imply, invitation, question or otherwise, but she did know that she wasn’t going to find out standing quietly on this side of the door. She pushed it open slowly, only to discover Snape sitting on one of two couches adorning the sitting room. He was staring into the fire, holding a glass of amber liquid Hermione could only assume was Firewhiskey.

When she’d been in this room last she had asked him to confide in her, well demanded it really, and against all odds he had. At the time she had been too preoccupied to observe the look of the room. Two dark leather couches faced each other on either side of a low lying mahogany table. Two of the walls were covered from top to bottom with books and against the far wall, perpendicular to the couches, was the large fireplace.

The same wall contained two more doors, one was open and she could see his official office, the one students were brought to when caught breaking the rules, or simply annoying the short tempered Professor. It had also been the room she’d had to practically beg him in, for the extra sessions she was now attempting to attend. The other door, she decided, must be his private chambers.

She then spotted the small bar next to the fire, and the full, levitating, bottle of liquor floating toward Snape.

Seeing his already extremely intoxicated state, she quickly dropped her things on the floor and ran over to him, just as the bottle reached his hand. He was just about to pull the stopper from the glass container when Hermione curled one hand around the neck of the bottle, and slammed her other hand over his to keep the liquid corked. She was unprepared for the tingles of anticipation that shot up her arm as his skin touched hers.

A bit slowly, certainly more slowly than one would normally expect, Snape’s eyes rose to meet Hermione’s in a weak glare. ‘What do you think you are doing Miss Granger?’

‘I’m preventing you from drinking yourself stupid, sir.’ She was now attempting to tug the bottle away from his surprisingly firm grasp.

‘And what concern is it of yours?’ He quickly tugged the bottle back toward him.

‘It concerns me a great deal,’ she spoke quietly but forcefully, thinking about their meeting, her growing feelings for the man, and her desire to see what had led him to the state in which she currently found him. She pulled at the bottle again.

‘Miss Granger, fifty points from Gryffindor for attempting to exert influence over your Professor’s life.’ How dare she barge in here uninvited and try to tell me what to do. How dare she look at me with those chocolate eyes, and smell so inviting… wow! I really have had too much to drink. But that is still not for her to decide.

Before, Hermione had been concerned and perhaps a little annoyed with his inebriation. Now she was getting angry at his belligerence and refusal to let her help him.

Snape moved his hand, down from the cork to wrap around hers, their hands joined over the bottle’s neck. He tugged in his direction again. His movement was unexpected and it caused her top hand to knock the cork up and out of the bottle, consequently splashing some of its contents over the top.

Normally this would have immediately informed both of the struggling participants as to the precariousness of their situations, but both minds were currently preoccupied; Severus’ with alcohol muddled feelings of defeat and Hermione’s with trying to protect Severus from himself. Both were trying to keep their arousals for each other firmly at bay.

Not liking to be ignored or caught off guard Hermione spoke her next words in the most menacing voice she could muster while her eyes bore directly into Snape’s glassy ones.

‘Release the bottle this instant or you shall regret it.’ She tugged at it again.

‘Miss Granger, you are speaking to an ex-Death Eater. Do you think that there is even the slightest chance that your current tone of voice is in the least bit intimidating to me?’

He spoke these words in the very slow, very quite tone reserved for his most “dangerous” cauldron melting students. She heard this tone in almost every Potions period, but to hear it directed at her made her angry and even more determined to beat him in this war of wills.

‘Fine! You brought this on yourself!’ And she did the only thing she could think of that might distract him, and perhaps even force his hands elsewhere.

She kissed him.

Her action was entirely effective. He was shocked into stillness, his mouth gaped and his struggling ceased. She took better advantage of his position and slid her tongue into his mouth. As she did she gave one last tug on the bottle and he offered no resistance, letting it slip from his fingers.

The kiss was sloppy and lacking the skill she was used to when he had kissed her before but just the feel of his lips made her knees go weak. The tastes and smells she associated with him were mixed with the hot, smooth whiskey, and the combination seemed wrong, tainted, and it slowed her actions.

He pulled away briefly but didn’t reach for the bottle. His brow wrinkled but Hermione couldn’t tell if it was in anger or confusion. Not wanting to take the chance that he was going to yell at her, she decided to keep his mouth occupied more pleasurably until she could think of what to do next.

In the instance before her lips touched his again she heard him mutter, “Dear gods, it’s you…”

And then he lost consciousness and fell back into the couch.


A/N 2: A huge thanks to all of my betas, Richard, ChaoticMayhem, and Lily of Darkness for helping me get this ready for posting. No matter how many times I went over it I could never catch everything myself!