Parvus Obitus

A/N - Thanks to everyone who took the time to review. Each new comment made my day that much brighter. And Special Thanks to Beeform for reading my \"Smut.\" I think an epilogue and we are done.

I hope this has been worth the wait. It is my first attempt at lemons so, please, let me know what needs work. Thanks.

Part Five

Dumbledore quickly ushered the still-protesting boys out of the room and, with one last apologetic look at Snape, closed the door.

Snape watched the trio leave. Hermione\'s talk of men verboysboys had served to illustrate that while Messrs. Potter and Weasley would always be boys in Snape\'s estimation, she was definitely a woman.

An intelligent woman whom he admired. A complex woman whom he felt some attraction for. A woman who was currently looking at him as if he were the last chocolate biscuit in the tin and, frankly, it was a bit intimidating.

He moved to stand behind the couch, hoping she wouldn\'t see it as the tactical move it was. Judging from the sudden tilt to her lips, he wasn\'t as subtle as he had hoped.

He wasn\'t accustomed to being on the defensive and found that he didn\'t like it one bit.

\"Ms. Granger,\" he began.

Her unladylike snort interrupted him.

Unconsciousl dre drew himself up into the intimidating stance he used to lecture students. He glared down his long, hooked nose at her. \"You have something you wish to stay?\"

\"Well, Professor, it seems rather silly to worry about formality at a time like this.\" She gestured at the room.

*She has a point, Snape. There is a very good chance that you are about to see her naked. There is some definite familiarity there.*

\"Silence!\" He was surprised to hear his own voice echo through the room. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he fought the urge to hex someone, anyone.

Hermione glanced from his stern face to his hands and back again. A strange look entered her eyes. \"Oh, you like it rough? Whatever you say, Professor, just as long as you use those wonderful hands.\"

The predatory gleam disappeared and Hermione dropped to the couch with groan of embarrassment. She hid her face in the seat of the couch.

Snape heard her mumble something vaguely like \"I can\'t believe ... said that ... going to kill me ... never get my hands on his ...\"

\"Excuse me, Hermione, get your hands on what?\"

Her head snapped up and she glared at him over the back of the couch. \"That was a private conversation.\"

Snape laughed at the absurdity of it all.

Hermione joined him, fully aware of how silly she sounded.

Slowly the laughter faded and a tense silence crept in. Hermione\'s tongue slid out to wet her suddenly dry lips. Snape had the oddest urge to fidget.

\"So ...\" He stopped to clear his throat.

\"So.\" She answered.

Tired of staring down at her, Snape circled the couch and sat next to Hermione. He turned to face her, mindful of her knees just inches from his thigh as she pulled her legs up beneath her.

\"Hermione, are you really sure that I am the one you want to...\"

\"I saw you,\" she blurted. \"That night.\"

She stared at her trembling hands as they smoothed her sweatshirt over her knees.

Snape was confused. \"What night?\"

One of her hands bridged the distance between them to rest on his thigh. She looked ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. Rather than insisting that she remove her hand from his person, which was his first inclination, Snape pretended not to notice.

The contact seemed to calm her a bit, and she was able to meet his eyes.

\"What night?\" he repeated, although the knowledge was already burning through him.

\"The night you made the potion. Afterwards, you were in your office. I wanted to talk, make sure everything would be all right.\" She had an unfocused, far-away look on her face, as if she was there reliving the memory. The muscle in his thigh tensed as her fingers began to draw small circles onto the fabric of his trousers.

\"I was about to announce myself when I saw your hands.\" Her eyes fluttered closed. The fingers of her other hand skimmed across her cheek and down the line of her neck. He watched them follow the valley between her breasts.

He felt his breath catch as her hand momentarily lingered before continuing on its journey.

\"You were ... I\'ve never seen anything like it. I couldn\'t help but watch.\"

Her hand traveled across her stomach, down her thigh to her knee. Her fingers curled around the hem of her sweatshirt and clinched.

The small circles on his thigh turned into firm, kneading strokes, and he could feel the occasional bite of her nails.

She had watched him, seen him at his most vulnerable. He wasn\'t sure how or what that made him feel.

\"Why me?\" He could hear the lack of confidence in his own voice and berated himself for it.

Snape found himself staring into deep, passion-filled eyes. Hermione leaned forward as she answered, stopping with her lips a hair\'s breadth from his.

\"Because you called out my name. Because, for one night, you made me feel like a desirable woman instead of a genderless brain. Because I have spent the last month trying to convince myself that cornering you in the supply closet was a very bad idea.

\"And what of you? Why haven\'t you run screaming into the night?\"

He placed his arm across the back of the couch, trying not feel so much like a sophomoric adolescent getting ready to put the moves on an unsuspecting date.

In response her hand on his thigh hesitantly moved the barest fraction of a centimeter closer to what was rapidly becoming a rather pressing problem.

He shifted, widening the vee of his legs in silent invitation.

Her hand began to move again and higher brain function ceased.

There was an expectant look on her face and the steady climb of her hand slowed to a stop.

*What? She\'s waiting for something. Think. Kiss her ... maybe she wants to be kissed. Gods, what\'s my breath like?

No, wait. She asked a question ... and she\'s waiting for her answer.

Then kiss her.*

His obsidian eyes closed in anticipation as he answered her. \"I brewed the potion. Therefore, I feel responsible for your dilemma. The least I can do is help you with it.\"

He let the warm puffs of her breath act as a beacon for his firm kiss. He leaned toward her, anticipating the contact, preparing to take her into his arms.

And fell forward into a faceful of cushion.

Her angry voice above him clued him into her sudden change of location, and with a scowl he carefully pushed himself back up to his original position.

\"Responsible for me? Don\'t do me any favors, Severus. I thought you were different.”

She glared down at him, hands on her hips. Her face was flushed an unbecoming shade of red.

Whatever had been holding her hair gave up and the untamed mass slid free. With a sigh of disgust she jerked her head, tossing the mess out of her face.

Snape returned her glare with one of his own. \"I find your incessant need to have all the answers highly annoying, and yet I catch myself wanting to teach you more. I am irritated by your insipid talk of the newest adventures of Potter and Weasley.\"

She was practically vibrating with emotion. Judging from the white in her knuckles as her fists clenched, Snape figured he should consider himself lucky that her wand had yet to make an appearance.

\"You ... you greasy overgrown bat.\"

Hermione was forced to look up as Snape stooe lee leaned down slightly until his formidable nose was mere millimeters from hers. His velvety whisper blew across her trembling lips. \"Know-it-all cow.\"

She stuttered and Snape could almost see her searching the vast resources of her mind for a suitable retort.

He quickly cut her off by placing his hands on her shoulders. \"I lie awake at night, trying to understand how you can be both frumpy and arousingly untamed at the same time. I, too, have contemplated the forbidden delights that could be found locked in the supply closet with you. I get aroused thinking of the sounds you make ... Merlin\'s beard, woman, you are the most infuriating person I\'ve ever had the misfortune to meet and if we don\'t relieve this mind-consuming tension soon ... I. Will. Explode!\"

She stared at him without speaking. Snape held his breath, certain that he\'d gone too far, said too much.

She shuddered under his hands and he prepared himself for her flight.

\"I can work with that.\" Suddenly she pushed into him, fighting his hold to close the small distance between them.

It took him precious seconds to process the change, then he used his hands to pull her up to his kiss. His nose bounced into hers and he quickly tilted his head for a better angle only to find that she had done the same thing.

With a growl of frustration that sent a shiver through him, Hermione reached up and grasped his face firmly between her hands. She tilted her head to the other side and her open lips collided with his.

Her tongue slid across his lower lip and his quickly followed suit. There was a bit of a tussle before he managed to thrust his tongue into the moist warmth of her mouth.

Eventually air became a necessity and they broke apart. Hermione dropped to flat feet, losing several precious inches of height.

He leaned down to kiss her again and felt his back protest.

\"Hermione,\" he panted as she skimmed along his jaw with kisses. \"This is killing me.\"

Her moan vibrated against his skin as he nipped gently at her ear lobe. \"Yes, Severus, I feel it too.\"

His nose nuzzled the spot just behind the curve of her ear as he whispered, \"You are too damn short. My back is screaming.\"

She stiffened against him and pulled back to see his face. He felt a momentary pang of worry when he saw her devilish grin. She placed both hands on his chest and pushed, sending him backward and down onto the couch.

\"Let\'s level the playing field, shall we?\"

*How can she sound so sultry and mischievous at the same time?*

She bit her lip and hesitated, looking from his face to his lap and back.

He wasn\'t sure what she was thinking but he knew what he wanted. He wanted Hermione in his lap, as close as to him as physically possible. He wanted to kiss her, taste her, draw that swollen lip between his own teeth.

Impatiently, he grasped her hips and pulled her forward until she had to brace one knee on the cushion beside him or fall.

His upturned face and the gentle tug of his hands were all the encouragement she needed to sink onto his lap, a knee on either side of his hips.

They both froze at the unfamiliar intimacy.

With obvious uncertainty she placed her hands on his shoulders.

\"What do we do now?\"

It was the question of a novice and only served to arouse him further. She was untouched. The virginity of a paramour was a gift most men hungered for and one which Snape had never been given.

The few brief encounters Snape had enjoyed over the years were universally with women more experienced than he, women who were looking for a short-term relationship with a man who was capable of thinking beyond his own pleasure. What he\'d lacked in handsomeness or charm he had more than made up for in willingness to learn.

Each of the small number of women he had been with had had no qualms about telling – or showing – him what they did or did not like. He had learned that different women enjoyed different things.

But what of her? What would bring Hermione pleasure? Obviously she had some experience with her own body, but Snape knew that solo encounters lacked in comparison to the hand or mouth of a lover. Fantasy, no matter how imaginative, paled against the reality of a skilled and considerate partner.

\"What happens next depends on you, Hermione. What do you want?\"

He let his hands roam across her back, trying to convey comfort.

Her chocolate eyes searched his face as her hands settled on the buttons of his robes. \"I ... I don\'t really understand what I want. I need to feel ... skin against skin. Please.\"

Snape nodded and pulled his wand out of his robes. He started to point the wand at himself and Hermione placed her hand over his.

\"Wait. Let me.\"

He placed his wand on the end table. \"As you wish.\"

She made short work of the fastenings of his robe. The buttons of the white dress shirt he wore underneath were attacked with as much enthusiasm as a child unwrapping a gift.

Her intent look, the way she bit her lip in concentration, made him want to distract her.

His hands slid to her sides, his thumb grazing the side of her breasts. She jerked forward at the touch; her hips bumping into his.

He wasn’t sure if the gasp was hers or his but it was the only sound in the stillness of the room. Hermione’s eyes were wide with some emotion he could not name. Her hands stilled against his forgotten buttons. He held his breath, waiting to see what she would do.

Then a look he knew well appeared, it was the same look she got whenever he asked her a difficult question or gave her a mysterious ingredient to identify. It was her “intrigued” look.

Slowly and deliberately she rolled her hips against his, her head tilted down to watch the movements of her body.

There was a sharp hiss as Snape sucked desperately needed air through his clenched teeth.

He could feel her warmth pressed against him even though the layers of clothing. Each roll of her hips rubbed his aching erection against her.

“Oh.” She looked up and caught his gaze. “It feels so...”

She moved again; loving the feel of his hands tightening at her sides and the delicious friction building between her legs.

Snape dropped his hands to her hips. Gently he guided her movements, setting an even pace.

Once he was certain she had found the rhythm he gave his hands free license to roam again.

Pulling her hair back to expose the graceful column of her neck, he leaned forward and placed his lips against her satin skin. His tongue flicked out to gather a bead of moisture left from her shower.

She moaned – head thrown back, eyes closed – as he continued to kiss and lick his way to the neckline of her sweatshirt. She braced a hand against his shoulder and sank the other into the softness of his hair, urging him on.

She was losing herself in the moment. Snape hid a small smile against her neck, it was quite apparent that Hermione was going to apply the same enthusiasm that drove him out of his mind when she was a student to this new endeavor. For once, Snape considered her willingness to devote herself whole-heartedly to a challenge to be a godsend.

The fine hairs on her thigh tickled his palm as he ran his hand down the length of her leg, enjoying the play of muscle under skin as she moved.

His hand reversed its journey, pausing to slip under the hem of her shirt before continuing up the back of her thigh. His fingers cupped the bare flesh of her bum.

Snape used his other hand to pull int into a deep kiss.

Her hands slid into the opening of his shirt.

He moved, an unpracticed half-turn-shift that brought them to a wonderfully horizontal position on the couch. He pulled back just enough to look at her. “You’re not wearing knickers.”

Her nod was absentminded, her eyes watching the movements of her hands on his chest. One short nailed finger ran across his nipple and she gave a delighted gasp as it puckered.

“I was in the shower when Albus knocked.”

She leaned up and licked the hollow of his throat with one long, sure stroke.

He didn’t even try to hold back his response. His mouth ground into hers, his tongue demanding the entrance she readily gave.

Her hands were in his hair, legs wrapped around his waist, when she panted into his ear. “Clothes.”

He agreed; clothing was rapidly becoming a nuisance.

A less-than-graceful scramble later and he was standing beside the couch wrenching open buttons and shrugging out of his clothes.

He was thankful his back was to her. A flush crept into his cheeks as he pulled off his shoes and socks. His hand hesitated at the last button of the fly of his trousers.

*This was it. The moment all less-than-perfect men dread, myself more than most. Will she laugh, to see me in all my supposed glory, eager and more than a little desperate? Will she be repulsed?*

A large ball of white material sailed past him and landed in a heap near Hermione’s desk.

Her sweatshirt.

His trousers joined her shirt in a matter of seconds, leaving him clad only in a pair of emerald-green silk boxers.

When he turned she was primly sitting on the couch with a large throw pillow clutched in a death grip in front of her. Her shy expression quickly changed to one of subtle amusement as she noticed his style of undergarment. She raised an eyebrow.

“If only I had known what was under those austere black robes...”

His flush deepened, and Hermione’s eyes widened in understanding. “Those are your company pants, aren’t they?”

She gave him a coquettish grin. “Why, Professor Snape, if I didn’t know better I would think you came to my rooms expecting this.”

He gave her a wolfish grin. “Let us just say that I have learned the value of being prepared.”

Her shyness returned as she looked anywhere but the prominent tent in his boxers. Her grip on the pillow tightened. “I’m sorry. I’m so confused right now. One second I’m scared stiff at the thought of what I’m about to do. The next I have an all most uncontrollable urge to jump you, consequences be damned.”

Snape sat next to her and tilted her chip up until she was looking him in the face. His fingers flexed against her skin.

“Are you scared of me?”

Hermione swallowed and wet her lips before answering. “I haven’t been afraid of you since I was a fifth year. It’s the loss of control that scares me.

“I always assumed that my first time would be sweet and gentle and ... and safe. It’s not like that. It’s wild and...”

He placed his finger against her lips, silencing her. “We’ll get to sweet and gentle later.”

“Later?”

Snape leaned down to capture her lips in another kiss. “Much later.”

The pillow fell to the floor, forgotten.

Her hands trembled as they pulled against his shoulders, urging him to follow her down as she reclined. A little
maneuvering and suddenly he was above her.

A breathless moan escaped him against the skin of her neck when she shifted her legs to cradle him between her thighs. Only a thin layer of silk separated him from heaven, and Severus ached to be inside her. He had enough knowledge of his
own body to know that if he gave in and took her now the act would be over in a heartbeat; he was far too gone to be able to hold back for long. If she was to have any satisfaction at all...

He traced the line of her collarbone with his lips. Both of her hands clutched at the back of his head, fingers wrapped in his long hair. She exerted the barest hint of pressure and he followed her cue. His hand cupped the soft skin of her breast. He palmed the pale globe in gentle circles, paying careful attention to her nipple.

The tip of his tongue flicked against the turgid bud and she arched off the couch. Her hands were at once pulling him closer and pushing him away.

She was trying to talk, disjointed syllables that made no sense. Again, he silenced her with a long finger across her lips.

As he sucked her nipple between his lips, she pulled his finger between hers. The lightening bolt of sensation arched from his finger straight to his groin and his hips thrust forward.

“Soon.” He whispered against her breast.

“Now.” She whimpered around his finger before nipping at the skin.

Another involuntary thrust decided the matter for him.

He pulled his finger from between her lips and skimmed it down her body, pausing only to torment her untouched breast before continuing on. His hand parted her damp curls. He could tell that she wanted to protest that she was ready now, but he parted her folds and she could no longer say anything.

He brushed against her clit and her body tensed. He could sense that she was close to the edge. He set a rhythm, his mouth at her breast pulling in counterpoint with his fingers below. Her body was wire taut, her toes curling against the back of his thighs, little jerks with every stroke of his fingers.

He leaned forward and claimed her mouth. He could hear the building urgency in her gasps as she reached for climax. He placed his lips against her ear and sent her over the edge.

“Come for me, Hermione.”

Short nails scratched against his back as she screamed out his name. As the orgasm continued to shake her he slid a finger inside. Instinctively she parted her legs wider and arched against him, driving his finger deeper. She bucked against him as he inserted a second finger. The gentle in-and-out of his fingers was driving her mad, especially in contrast to the slight sting of his teeth as he nipped at the underside of her jaw.

Hermione tugged on his hair until he looked up at her. There was no question what she wanted. He had been hoping to make it to the bedroom but the rather insistent way she slid her hand into his boxers proved to be his downfall. Her hand closed around his shaft and he called out her name.

They twisted together, working the last piece of clothing off in the process, until the only thing between them was a fine sheen of sweat.

He snagged a small pillow off the end of the couch and tucked it under her hips. His erection pressed against her opening and he hesitated. Hermione’s hands pulled at him, trying to bring him closer but he resisted. He dropped his forehead to hers and looked her in the eye.

“You’re very tight and this is going to hurt. I’m sorry. I’m not sure how long I can ... hold out. I’ll make it up to you.”

She was panting, breasts pressing against his chest. “Take me, Severus. Fuck me.”

He gripped her hips fiercely and buried himself in her. She cried out as he broke through the barrier of her maidenhead. He wanted to slow down, to stop until she was ready, but the need for release was too great. His body found its natural rhythm and he gave in, pulling out and sliding back into her wet heat. He could feel his climax building. He could feel her hands on his back pulling him closer, could hear her moaning his name with each thrust.

Then he was there, his body rigid as his seed spilled into her. Her name was on his lips and he would have said it aloud but her mouth was against his, her tongue seeking entrance. He continued to thrust against her, wanting to prolonge the feelings he was experiencing. He reached down and found the sensitive bundle of nerves above where they were joined. A few strokes of his finger later and she found release again.

Their breathing slowly returned to normal, and he realized that his weight might be squashing her. Carefully he disengaged himself and stood, offering his hand to her.

Snape waited until she was standing beside him to pull her into a deep kiss. Satisfied that she wasn’t going to run away screaming now that they had actually had sex and the potion had been counteracted, hopefully, he was unsure of what to do.

Hermione gave him a small half-smile and tried to hide a yawn behind her hand. “I’m exhausted. I think I need to go to bed.” With one last shy look at the Potions Master she crossed the room and disappeared into her bedroom.

Snape stared at the empty door way.

*That’s it? Just an “I’m tired, out out.” This is why I’m not in a relationship.* He rubbed his hands across his face and began to search for his scattered clothing. *I don’t know why I’m so upset. I’m sure I would be the envy of men everywhere if they knew I’ve just been used for sex.* He glared at the fireplace with his hands on his hips, boxers hanging out of one clinched fist. *I wasn’t that bad, was I? Should I tell her I can do better? No. No self-doubt. She’s the one who picked me. Maybe she really is tired?*

The sound of a throat clearing pulled him out of his inner debate and he turned to find Hermione standing in the bedroom doorway. She was still completely bare. Her voice was unsure. “Aren’t you coming? I don’t know about you but I need a nap before we ... well, get around to much later.”

The boxers landed on the ground in a pool of green silk. “I could be persuaded to rest, if you feel the need.”

The bedroom door shut behind them.

An hour later, a green flash burst from the fireplace. A grey bearded face with glasses propped on his forehead and a hand clasped firmly across his eyes appeared in the flames. “Severus? Is everything all right? It’s been quite some time and the boys and I have become concerned. Severus?

“Oh, do shut up, Harry. I’m not going to look and neither are you. Get back.

“Severus?”