A Turn for the Better

Chapter 49 ~ Pampering

The couple finished their work and cleaned up the lab slowly, Hermione adjusting and readjusting the beakers, utensils and smaller cauldrons almost obsessively, Snape watching her for a few minutes.

”Hermione, I believe we’re done here,” he said to her softly.

Hermione turned to him, her brown eyes a bit apprehensive. The wizard cocked his head at her.

”You look . . . frightened,” he said, not making any move toward the witch.

”I’m a bit nervous about tonight, about us,” Hermione admitted.

Snape nodded.

”Sometimes wanting is easier to deal with than actually having,” he told her gently, “but there’s nothing to be nervous about, Hermione. Now, let us go and prepare for supper.”

Snape walked to the door, hoping he sounded reassuring. He was feeling a touch of nervousness as well, but didn’t physically show it. He opened the door and let Hermione out, actually feeling her warmth as she passed in close proximity. He was so attuned to the witch, it was as if he were on point.

She waited for him as he closed the door, then they walked side by side to his office.

”Ah, I thought we’d take an hour or two to ourselves before supper, to ah, freshen up and relax. Then, I will retrieve you for our meal,” he said to the witch, who opened the wall to his quarters and walked through without responding. He followed her.

”How . . . how should I dress for supper?” she asked him, turning to face him as he entered the study..

Snape blinked at her. He didn’t want to tell her what to wear, so instead thought it best to tell her what he intended to wear, hoping she would take a cue from that.

”I will be wearing black silk pajamas,” the Potions master replied.

Hermione stared up at him.

”Pajamas?” she repeated.

”Yes, pajamas. Clothing ideally suited for . . . bed,” he answered her, quirking an eyebrow.

Hermione seemed to literally freeze up.

Snape sighed softly and stepped into the witch, gently wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him gently. Hermione’s head rested against his chest and she could hear the wizard’s strong heartbeat. He caressed her hair softly.

”You’ll never have anything to fear from me, Hermione Granger,” he crooned, holding her securely. “The sea of time has finally parted and brought us together. You will not drown. I will keep you afloat, safe in my arms, warm in my love.”

Hermione sighed against him. Gods, that would sound so corny coming from anyone other than the Potions master. He meant what he said. She looked up at him.

”If you kissed me, it would make it better,” she said softly.

Snape studied her face for a moment, then bent and kissed her gently, moving his lips against hers sensually, but not entering her mouth. It wasn’t time to show hunger, only tenderness. He felt Hermione relax against him, her body going soft and pliant as his kiss took her over. It wasn’t long before her own ardor began to make itself known and unlike Snape, she was more than ready to show her hunger. Her tongue tapped against his lips insistently.

Snape pulled away. Hermione’s arms were wrapped around his neck as tightly as tentacles.

”It appears your fear is past,” the wizard said, trying to pry her loose. Hermione’s eyes were closed and her mouth still pursed.

”Let’s skip supper,” she breathed, opening her eyes as he managed to partially free himself from her serpent-like grasp.

Snape was tempted, but they needed strength and he wanted to bathe.

”It will be a light supper, Hermione. We need the carbs, believe me,” he told her. “Now, be a good witch and go get ready. I will send a house elf to attend you if you like.”

Hermione let him go reluctantly

”All right,” she said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “It’s six o’clock now. So, I can expect you at eight?”

”Yes,” the wizard said, lifting her hand and kissing it gently. “Eight o’clock. Until then, Hermione Granger.”

Snape watched as she walked through the open wall into her quarters, then he lowered the wall behind her and warded it, as well as the entrance to his study. She wouldn’t be able to get in unless she broke the wards, and they were powerful ones. Snape knew how he wanted tonight to go, but if Hermione entered his quarters before the appointed time, his plans would fly right out the turret window. He wasn’t strong enough to resist her now. He was already seduced.

The wizard walked to the fireplace, threw a bit of Floo powder into it, and sent two female house elves to Hermione’s quarters to help her. House elves were wonderfully connected to those they served. They’d know exactly what Hermione would need for tonight and would help provide it. He then ordered supper, and requested two house elves to come and prepare his quarters in a manner suitable for receiving a female guest.

Snape walked into his bedroom, then the bathroom, looking from the shower to the sunken tub and back to the shower again. He stood there, undecided for a moment, then leaned down and closed up the drain to the bathtub. He turned on the spigot. It had been quite some time since he’d used the tub, but he thought it would be relaxing to soak and dream of what waited for him on the other side of the door.

He undressed, then opened his medicinal store and added a few drops of Replenishing potion to the bathwater. He’d decided not to add any scent. It often had an unpleasant taste to accompany it. Now that he had a witch of his own, he’d probably work on brewing something that both smelled and tasted good to wear. He’d have to find out what scent Hermione liked. He didn’t wear cologne often, but he would wear it for her outside of the lab if she wished.

The wizard eased his long, lean frame into the bath, his lips pursed and body bouncing a bit as the very warm water touched his buttocks and dangly bits.

”Ah . . . ooh . . . aah,” he breathed as he settled in, leaning back and soaking in the water luxuriously, feeling whatever tension he had left flow out of his body like magic. He soaked for several minutes before ducking fully under the water. He rose, water streaming down his face and picked up the bottle of shampoo resting on the side of the tub, intending to be kissably clean from head to toes.

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Hermione quickly walked through her quarters to her bedroom. Two hours sounded like two days to the witch as she quickly removed her clothing. It would only take a few minutes to shower. She’d probably spend the rest of the time pacing back and forth through the rooms and making herself crazy. Maybe . . . maybe she could sneak in on him and make him skip supper after all.

She smiled naughtily as she stripped naked, then looked at herself in the mirror, her brown eyes resting on her brown, curly pubic hair. Maybe she should shave it.

No. Severus seemed to have a bit of a thing about how young she was. Nothing he couldn’t handle, but her having a hairless snatch wouldn’t help his perceptions a bit. She’d just edge it up. Then, she realized she heard water running.

Quickly, Hermione grabbed her housecoat and slipped it over her nude body, then padded into the bathroom. Inside were two house elves, running her bath water and adding things to it. She stared at the busy creatures, who stopped what they were doing and curtsied.

”Hello, Miss. I is Bottleblue and this is Merryweather. We is to attend you and helps you prepares,” one elf with beautiful blue eyes said, smiling shyly.

”I . . . I was just going to take a shower,” Hermione said to the creature, who shook her head.

”Oh, no, Miss. This is special. You is to be pampered. A bath, a shampoo, manicure, pedicure, shave, massage. It is very good to be pampered before the in-outie, Miss. Makes you nice and relaxed and ready,” the elf said as the other nodded enthusiastically.

Hermione blinked at the two elves. Pampered? Well, that didn’t sound too bad at all. And she hadn’t given a thought to a manicure or pedicure. A massage sounded very nice, too. She wasn’t about to look a gift elf in the mouth.

Wait. In-outie?

Hermione blushed as she realized the elf was referring to sex. She wasn’t sure how much house elves knew about sex, but there were plenty of them around Hogwarts, so they must know something.

”All right,” she said.

”That’s good, Miss,” Bottleblue said, approaching her with the other elf. “You just lets us do the work.”

The two elves helped remove Hermione’s housecoat and she did just that.

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As Snape lay soaking, he pondered his approach to the witch. Hermione wasn’t a virgin. He’d seen to that years ago, but the act was hardly one of love. He had been young and randy, greedily taking what the witch gave him. He’d been selfish, like most wizards of that tender age were wont to be. He had also been rather brutal, riding her body wildly. The sex had been good for both of them, for what it was worth, but she was deserving of far better treatment than that.

This was a young woman who had saved his life, twice. Not only saved his life, but the lives of thousands. There were people on this earth who would have never existed if not for her courage and selflessness. True, he had been the one to remove Tom Riddle from his mortal coil, but if Hermione had not come to him, he wouldn’t have lifted a finger to try and stop the despot until it was too late. Although they both could be considered heroes, it was Hermione’s actions that brought the change about, that made the real difference.

And now this incredibly brave witch was waiting for him to connect with her again, waiting for him to show her his love. And, Severus Snape did love Hermione Granger, not only for what she’d done for him, but for who she was. A brilliant, sometimes explosive young woman who had the heart of a lion . . . willing to work hard and face anything to get what she wanted. Hermione was focused and dedicated. There was nothing air-headed or shallow about her. True, she had some maturing to do, but he was sure as time passed, she would only become better, stronger and more alluring to him. Knowing that such a promising witch only had eyes for him was quite heady, and Snape was grateful to whatever powers of destiny that brought such a gem into his life. He had no intentions of ruining this blessing. He would treat her with kindness and respect, outside of work time, that is. He did have an obligation to her as well. There would be difficult times ahead.

He only hoped Hermione could stand the pressures of apprenticeship. He’d ordered a book for her, entitled “The Autobiography of a Potions Master,” by Eliot Burke. This book was written by a master that lived three centuries ago, before the “new” traditions of physical intimacy between apprentices and masters took over. He recounts the difficulties of apprenticeship and how there were times he loathed his master, who worked him mercilessly from dawn to dusk, comparing it to indentured servitude. There was quite a bit of colorful language involved when he described master Toorahloo, but in the end, the wizard assured his readers it had all been worth it when he was presented to the Masters a second time, as a full Potions master of great skill and confidence.

Snape intended to give her the book as required reading tomorrow morning, and to hold off on starting the apprenticeship until after she’d read it, which would probably be a day or two. Hermione was a voracious reader.

The wizard stood up and rinsed off, his bath finished. He drained the tub, dried off with a fluffy Slytherin green towel, then strode into his bedroom to find two house elves carefully elevating candles in his bedroom. There was a slight scent of musk in the air, calming and pleasant, but not too overpowering. Extra pillows rested at the head of his four-poster bed, and matched the green and silver silk sheets that covered it. One corner of the bedcovering was pulled back tastefully, as if waiting for someone to slide in.

On the nightstand by the bed rested several small bottles of potions, just in case they were needed. One was a contraceptive. Yes, that would definitely be needed. Contraception could be cast by wand, of course, but a potion was better. As much as he cared for Hermione, Snape wasn’t willing to impregnate her. She had so much to accomplish.

Maybe in a few years . . .

Snape forced the thought out of his head. What the hell was he doing, thinking about . . . about babies? Gah!

He needed a drink and now.

He walked over to his dresser, opened the drawer and took out a pair of black, silk pajamas. He’d had them for some time, a Christmas gift from Albus and Minerva. Since he usually slept in the nude, he hadn’t much use for them. But as he held them against his body in the mirror, he thought they were quite nice. They were soft and light. Smooth to the touch.

He put them on and studied himself in the dresser mirror, running his hand over his chin. He thought he felt a little stubble and returned to the bathroom to shave. He was old-fashioned when it came to shaving and took out a kit containing a straight razor, a strop, strop paste, a shaving brush and razor hone. Snape enjoyed the delicate process of shaving, of placing the finely honed blade against his flesh and feeling it ease across his skin. It was an art to be able to shave in such a manner, and he’d done it for years, although in the beginning he took quite a few nicks before getting the technique down.

Snape arranged his utensils and checked the sharpness of the blade by drawing it across the ball of his thumb. It was fine. He wet down his face and applied a soap he’d created himself. He carefully applied the razor, rinsing it often beneath the faucet. After he finished, he patted his face dry with a towel, then ran his hand over his chin again. Yes, nice and smooth.

He did a bit of maintenance on his razor, carefully drying it completely and applying a light oil to the blade before putting the kit away. He walked back into the bedroom to find the house elves strewing rose petals on his bed.

Of course, he scowled. Snape didn’t like roses in this timeline any better than he did in the other.

”Nix the roses,” he growled at the elves, who both looked at him wide-eyed before doing as he asked.

But as an afterthought, Snape told them, “Leave a long-stemmed rose on the night stand.”

One bloody rose wouldn’t kill him.

The Potions master stepped into a pair of black slippers, then walked into the study. He walked back into the bedroom immediately.

”Get out here,” he snarled at the elves, who followed him, ears flattened.

Working with professor Snape was never an easy chore.

Snape swept his hand across the room. All of the furniture had been rearranged to accommodate what had been placed there.

”What is that?” the wizard asked the cringing elves.

”A . . . a table, sir,” one elf stammered.

It was a table all right. About fifteen feet long, covered in a Slytherin green tablecloth and with chairs at both ends of it. A silver candelabra rested dead center, the flickering lights not reaching either end of the table. Snape shook his head.

”How am I supposed to talk to her? By shouting? I want a more intimate setting. Now,” Snape said to the elves.

The house elves quickly reduced the table to a more manageable size.

”Better,” he snapped. “Now, leave. I will summon you when it’s time to serve our meal.”

The elves quickly and happily departed his domain, winking out instantly.

Snape walked over to the liquor cabinet and fixed himself a small Firewhiskey. He downed it in one quick swallow, cleaned and replaced the glass. He glanced at the clock. It was only seven o’clock. He had another hour yet.

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Hermione lay on her stomach nude and nearly purring as the house elves gently massaged her with a light, unscented oil, smoothing their hands over her body and working the oil into her skin. It tingled slightly.

”This is the life,” she thought as she lay there with her eyes closed.

Her nails and toes had been done, but she didn’t allow them to put any polish on them because of her potions work. Her hair was soft, shining and slightly curling and all extraneous hair had been removed from her body, and her pubic hair was cut into a nice heart shape. There was enough hair left to assure the professor he was with a woman, not a girl.

”We is done. Now, to dress,” Bottleblue said.

Hermione turned over and looked at the lovely green silk nightgown the elves held stretched between them. It was long and made of silk, with thin straps.

”The Snape likes green,” Bottleblue said.

They helped Hermione put it on and gave her a pair of soft, matching slippers to go with it. Then she drew a silk silver robe over it. It had no tie however, so the wizard would be able to see her curves. Hermione looked at herself in the mirror.

”Oh, my,” she said, staring at the woman looking back at her.

”You is beautiful,” Bottleblue said, “just beautiful, Miss.”

Hermione gave her a smile.

”Thank you,” she said softly.

Both elves curtsied, then winked out, leaving her alone.

”I just hope Severus thinks so,” she breathed looking back at herself in the mirror, before looking up at the clock. It was one minute to eight.

”Oh, I’ve got to meet him,” she said, hurrying out the room and up the hall just as the wall to her quarters rose.

She stopped, staring at the opening as Snape entered, his black eyes shifting to her hair, then moving down her gown, falling on the green slippers.

He swallowed.

”You’re beautiful,” he said softly, “the most beautiful creature I’ve laid eye on in many, many years, Hermione Granger. I am . . . honored.”

Hermione blinked at him, at the black silk pajamas covering his lean frame and his shining hair. He looked . . . edible as he approached her, offering his arm and looking down at her.

”Supper awaits,” he said softly, guiding her from her domain into his.

”And . . . dessert,” Hermione breathed up at him, her belly full of fire.

Snape smirked slightly as he led her out of her quarters.

”Yes, a very rich dessert,” he agreed.

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A/N: Ah, build-up. Gotta love it, even if the whole story has been buildup. Lol. Thanks for reading. ***