The First Summer and Summer Series

Hermione Granger watched the descent of the large brown owl with interest. Sure enough, just as she had hoped, it swooped over her table in the hall and dropped an envelope in her lap. She picked up the letter and looked at the writing although she already knew who it was from. The black borders on the envelope made it look like old-fashioned mourning stationary but the silver and green serpent crest told a different story.

With a satisfied smile she tucked the envelope into the front of her robes and hurried back to her dorm room to read the letter in privacy. She was two thirds of the way through her first year at the wizard’s university in London. She found college very exciting and satisfying. There was only one thing that she mis or or rather, one person: Severus Snape. Last summer they had fallen in love. It had nearly killed her to leave him and come here. Despite the age difference, they were very much alike and well suited to one another.

“And he is a brilliant lover,” she admitted to Crookshanks who was dozing on her bed. She glanced over to her roommate Julie’s empty bed and thought about how hard it had been to start sharing a room with her after a whole summer of ng wng with Severus.

It had seemed natural living with him, she thought to herself. She looked at Julie’s clothes strewn all over the floor and the mess on her bureau. Severus had been tidy, always hanging things up and putting them away just so. She smiled. He was very neat, except of course, when he was in too big of a hurry to get her clothes off. And that was something else she missed. It had been very sweet to share a bed with him. Not just the sex, which was great, but the warmth and companionship. It had been good to open her eyes in the morning and to see his tousled black hair spread out on the pillow beside her. She missed snuggling into him and having him hold her in his lean strong arms.

She flopped onto her back and extracted the envelope from her robes. Hermione wanted to savour every moment of opening this letter for he didn’t send her very many. At first she was rather hurt. She sent him two or three letters a week. She told him everything that happened, and about everyone she met. She described her classes and explained about the things she was studying. She also told him how much she missed him. She described her aching loneliness and the way she wished he could touch her right then. Sometimes Hermione poured her whole heart into a letter, telling Severus how much she loved him and how she couldn’t wait until summer break to see him again.

Sighing deeply, she slid her finger under the flap of the envelope and drew out thttertter. It was only one page. She could have screamed with frustration. Severus sent her only a letter or two each month. She counted on there being at least two pages so she could get his essence from the stiffly penned words. He was always very formal and this letter was no different. There was, however, a bit of a surprise:

My Dear Hermione,
I hope this finds you well and you have passed all of your winter exams with excellent marks as usual. I find I must travel to London next week tnd pnd pick some potion ingredients for my seventh years. I wonder if you’d care to meet me for lunch?
With Love,
Severus

“Severus, you dolt!” she screamed aloud. “Of course I want to meet you!” She grabbed a quill and immediately set about making a reply. He really was maddening. She knew he wasn’t the sort to write love letters but there were times when she despaired over his brevity. Part of it went back to the end of the summer. He had expressed his concern that she not tie herself down. In fact, he had made it quite clear that she was a free woman if she chose. But she didn’t want to be free. She knew he loved her and she loved him. It was just a little difficult to make him accept that she loved him in a lasting way.

“It’s as though he doesn’t think he’s worthy of being loved,” Hermione remarked. She looked down with satisfaction at her reply to his note:

My Dearest Severus,
You sweet idiot! Of course I want to meou fou for lunch! In fact, can’t you arrange to stay overnight? It’s making me weak in the knees just to think of being with you again. Please write back soon with details!
All of my love,
your own Hermione

“There! That should do it!” she thought to herself. She sealed the envelope and summoned one of the college owls to deliver her reply. As soon as the note was on its way she sank down onto her bed to daydream. Next week! This time next week she would be with Severgaingain for one glorious day. She thought about how it would feel to be holding him, kissing him, allowing him to touch her everywhere. Best of all, she thought about having him buried between her thighs. Hermione closed her eyes and sighed.


“That didn’t take her long,” Severus Snape smiled to himself as an owl found its way into the dungeons and dropped a pale mauve perfumed envelope on his desk. He picked up the envelope and sniffed it gently, closing his eyes to savour her smell. It reminded him of watching her dress. She would stand in front of the mirror, deliciously nude with a perfume bottle, slowly and deliberately placing dabs of perfume behind her knees, under her breasts, on the jugular area of her throat and on her temples. Only after she had gone through the anointing ritual would she begin to slip on her clothes. He had teased her about it but he had also found it one of the sexiest things he had ever seen.

A giggle brought him back to reality. “Something amusing you, Creevey?” he snarled, sliding the envelope into his robes.

“No sir,” Creevey replied. But the smirk on his face told Severus that his olfactory enjoyment had not gone unnoticed.

“Five points from Gryffindor for being disruptive and be thankful it‘s not detention as well!”

Creevey bent over his caldron and went back to work. Severus sighed. Gods but he hated teaching! And he hated being stuck here at Hogwarts when what he really wanted was to be sharing a bed somewhere with Hermione Granger. The huge increase in his correspondence this year had not gone unnoticed at breakfast in the Great Hall. Especially as it was scented and mauve. He had endured the many chuckles at his expense in the staffroom, although Dumbledore, he knew, heartily approved of the match. God only knew why. Severus didn’t approve of it himself.

He pondered the matter yet again while circling the room, vigilant for errors in his potions class. What on earth did Hermione see in him? He was old enough to be her fathAnd And looks-wise, well, he tried to avoid looking in a mirror if he could help it. He had decided long ago that he was best described as “plain” but that there might be some justification for the many taunts of “ugly” he had heard while growing up. And no one in the world could truthfully call him good-natured. Surely she couldn’t love him purely on intelligence alone?

Severus paused briefly to sneer at a particularly vile caldron. He made the mortified Hufflepuff throw it out and start over. As he watched the girl, red cheeked and tears in her eyes, begin the weary process of re-measuring her dwindling supply of potion ingredients, Severus thought again of Hermione.

“It’s just a crush,” he thought to himself. “All young women get crushes on their teachers and poor Hermione just happened to fixate on me.” He refused to acknowledge the fact that it hadn’t seemed like a crush last summer, when they had lived as a couple in the outpost of Karnipolia. And as for all these letters, well, she just wasn’t kept busy enough at the university. She was bored and lonely. Her letters often admitted as much. Oh yes, that much and so much more.

Oh those letters! They were personal, very personal. There was one letter in particular that he kept hidden next to his bed. Often he would pull it out and read it. She knew what would arouse him and had obviously spent some time composing this masterpiece of seduction. When he had first received it, he had opened it at school breakfast and immediately had to retire to his chambers before it became apparent that the front of his robes were standing out like a pitched tent. Hermione was hell on his libido. In just the last year he had gone from long term celibacy to extremely sexually active then to the less satisfactory state of relying on his own hand.

Which brought up his latest dilemma: going to London. It was only natural if he was going to be in London that he should see her. And he wanted to see her. The one constant in his mind was his love for her. She was everything he had always wanted in a woman. She was beautiful, intelligent and had similar values. Hermione was also very sensual, and she wanted him. It made all the difference in the world that she wanted him. To be desired was the greatest thrill he had ever known. But why? Why did she want him?

Just a crush, he decided, combined with sexual curiosity. He had simply been available when her budding sexuality had reached fruition. It would soon end. She would come to her senses one day soon and that would be that. He needed to be sure there was nothing she would regret when that day finally came. Which was why he had no intentions of spending the night with her in London, tempting though the thought may be. He had told her that if she still wanted him by the next summer, that he would join her but he was very sure she would come to her senses by then. It was important that they have restraint so that nature would take its course and his goddess would find herself a man more worthy than himself.

But how to put this in a letter? Perhaps better not to explain at all.

My Dear Hermione,
Tempting though your suggestion is, I cannot stay long. Just lunch, my dear child. I’ll meet you on the 6th at noon outside Flourish and Blotts. I trust your knees will survive.
With Love,
Severus

After some consideration, he omitted the ‘my dear child’ part, realizing that she would immediately get annoyed and send him another letter. The owl was dispatched and he settled back to wait for the coming week.

Hermione read his reply in disgust.

“What can he be thinking of?” she asked aloud.

“What’s up?” asked Julie, looking up from her arithmancy thesis.

Hermione sighed, “My.... well, I guess you’d call him my boyfriend, is coming to London next week but he refuses to spend the night. I haven’t seen him since last summer.”

“This is that Severus guy you talk about?” Julie asked. Her American accent sounded funny pronouncing his name.

Hermione nodded.

“Write him back and insist,” Julie suggested.

“You don’t know Severus,” Hermione laughed. “He’s more stubborn than I am and that’s saying something. Damn! I was really wanting to...” she left the last sentence incomplete and blushed slightly.

Julie smirked, “I know what you want. You can count on me. What day is it and I’ll just crash on somebody else and give you two some privacy.”

“Thursday,” Hermione commented. “You really don’t mind?”

“No problem. I’ll get out Thursday morning and you can bring him back here. Then the two of you can... ahem... get reacquainted. I won‘t come back till after classes on Friday so if you manage to talk him into spending the night, go for it!”

“Julie, you are a wonderful roommate!” Hermione smiled.

“Just doing my best for International Wizarding Relations,” Julie winked, “And some domestic relations too apparently!”

A week later Hermione was standing in front of Flourish and Blotts at 11:30. She knew she was too early but didn’t want to risk being late. It was a cold damp dark spring day. She stepped impatiently from one foot to the other watching in the direction she knew he would be coming from, the entrance to Diagon Alley. She glanced at her watch. Still half an hour to go. It was a huge shock then when someone touched her shoulder from behind.

“Hermione,” murmured the silky voice of her dreams.

She turned quickly and launched herself into his arms. Severus dropped the packages he had been carrying and embraced her fully. Her lips sought his eagerly. He returned her kisses with restraint, aware of the looks and stares around them.

She finally pulled back to look at him. He was still the same, pale with inscrutable dark eyes, his silky black hair grazed the shoulders of his heavy cloak. He looked tired and like he had lost some weight again. That worried her, especially after all the trouble she had taken last year to help get him healthy.

“Severus, how are you?” she asked.

He bent to retrieve his packages. “At the moment, fed up with shopping. If you’ll just wait a few minutes longer, I want to send these off to Hogwarts so I don’t have to carry them back with me.” He gave her an amused glance, “I hadn’t anticipated your arriving so early.”

“You mean you’ve been here all morning? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have wanted to go shopping with you!” She removed her hands from around his waist and stood, arms akimbo, giving him a glare to match any he could produce.

He chuckled, “I wanted to concentrate on shopping. I’d never be able to concentrate on anything with you around. Besides, I did say ‘just lunch’.”

“Yes, well, we can talk about that later,” Hermione commented. She proudly took his arm as they walked towards the owlry to post his parcels.

As they walked, Severus enjoyed sneaking sidelong glances at her. She was even more beautiful than he had remembered. Under her heavy black cloak he could see she was wearing the dark burgundy robes and gold jewelry that he had bought for her last summer. It brought back memories of warm afternoons.

After the parcels were on their way, they returned to the street. Her lover took her arm firmly and began steering her through the crowds.

“Where are we going for lunch?” Hermione asked, looking up at him in a way that made his heart skip. “We just passed The Leaky Caldron. Isn‘t that where you were headed?”

“Hardly,” Severus replied. “I thought you’d like something nice.” They passed all of the shops that Hermione knew. He guided her around a corner and up a dark narrow lane. About fifty metres in was a small stairwell. A sign above it simply announced “The Bistro”. They climbed the stairs and went thru a peeling green door into a cozy French restaurant. The proprietor met them at the entrance and took their cloaks.

“Aha! Professor Snape! It is good to see you again. And today you ordered an alcove table for you and your young lady friend?” The pudgy man took Hermione’s hand and pressed it to his lips. “Very pretty she is too!”

“Thank you Albert,” Severus replied. He glanced at Hermione with one amused eyebrow raised before continuing, “We’ll start with a bottle of your best Rothschild Bordeaux please.”

They had been led to a small warm lamp-lit alcove. A richly upholstered crescent shaped bench curved around a small wooden table. Hermione slid onto one end of the bench while Severus took the other. Albert busied himself unfolding Hermione’s serviette and dropping it into her lap, glancing down her cleavage.

When he had left to get the wine Severus commented, “Albert is a randy old stoat! But his chef is brilliant.”

“Do you bring women here often?” Hermione asked.

He couldn’t help but chuckle, “No, but I see him working at other tables. Don’t drop your fork here by the way. If he picks it up he’ll try to have a look up your skirt.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m wearing long robes,” she smiled. The Bordeaux arrived and Hermione watched as Severus supervised the opening of the bottle. He swirled the liquid in his glass and put his large nose down into the bowl to test the bouquet before allowing Albert to fill their glasses. As soon as Albert disappeared, Severus lifted a glass towards her.

“To you, Hermione,”

“To us,” she corrected.

He paused, as though to say something. They locked eyes, a meeting of the wills.

“To us,” he slowly admitted. Inwardly, Severus sighed. He loved her too much, she pow power over him and he could deny her nothing she really wanted. He only hoped she would never find that out. He took a large mouthful of the mellow wine and swallowed. When he looked up again he saw she was still looking at him.

“What is it?” he a.
.

Hermione blushed, “It’s just that it’s been so long. I’ve missed you so much.”

“So you always write,” Severus commented. The warm yellow lamplight was very flattering to her. There was a small candle lit on the table and he could see it reflected in her eyes, flickering softly.

“Do you miss me?” she asked.

“Hermione,” he exhaled impatiently, “You know I do. Do I have to tell you?”

“Yes.”

He looked directly into her eyes. “I miss you.”

“And?”

“Is this a game?”

She reached across the table and took his hand. “I write to you two or three times a week. I tell you how much I love and miss you. I pour my whole heart and soul out to let you know how I feel. You write to me about once a month and they are the stiffest most formal letters I have ever read. You may as well be writing to Neville! The least you can do for my ego is to tell me how you feel about me when we’re finally alone together.”

Albert interrupted. Appetizers appeared. Severus tried to take the opportunity to break off the conversation but she would not be swayed.

“Well?”

“Alright, yes,” he admitted in an angry whisper, letting his fork clatter down onto his plate. “I miss you. I love you.” There was a short pause before he continued, “I keep that one letter of yours next to my bed and I touch myself, pretending it’s you. And I don’t write letters to Neville Longbottom! I write them to you! I‘m sorry if they‘re not good enough! I haven‘t had much practice. Are you satisfied?”

She leaned across the table, smiling and kissed him. Severus kept his face like stone.

“Did you know you’re really sexy when you’re angry?” she asked.

Soup appeared next.

“Did we order?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Severus replied shortly.

“Then how does he know what we want to eat?” she asked.

“He doesn’t. He brings us what the chef wants to cook.”

“How odd!” She looked over at her lover who remained sullen. “Don’t sulk!” she begged. “I just really needed some reassurance you weren’t going off me.”
She picked up her wineglass and drank, watching him all the time.

He finally looked up and met her eyes. “You know how I feel about our relationship Hermione. I still feel there are many other people and things waiting for you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved any woman but I’m not going to encourage you. That’s why I didn’t want to stay the night. We need space between us so you can get your priorities in order. Physical relations can... can cloud one’s better judgment. Wasting your life chasing after an old man is ridiculous.”

The glass fell from Hermione’s lips. “Are you trying to tell me that the reason you’re not staying overnight is that you want to avoid having sex with me for my own good? And after all that you‘ve admitted?”

His eyes met hers briefly, then dropped to the table.

Hermione started to laugh. “There are times when you are just too quaint for words! Well, we’ll see how you feel about it when lunch is over, shall we?” She picked up the wine bottle and refilled his glass.

“It’s no good you know,” Severus answered. “I knew you’d push me to stay so I didn’t bring a case. I don’t have a change of clothes and I have to be back to teach my advanced potions class tomorrow afternoon. You‘re not going to change my mind.”

Hermione’s only answer was to wiggle her foot out of her shoe and to run her toes seductively up the ie ofe of his leg. He groaned, half in glorious pleasure and half in self-loathing at being so weak where she was concerned. Hermione picked up her wineglass again and prepared to enjoy herself. She had a feeling this was going to turn out just how she had hoped.

By the time the sweets course had arrived, Hermione had managed to slide around the bench and snuggle right up against him. His arm was draped lazily around her. His thumb was absently caressing her shoulder. A bottle of Veuve Cliquot champagne had replaced the empty wine bottle and a rosy glow had chased away most of his doubts. This was the most pleasure he’d had since last summer and he was rather enjoying it. He let her feed him mouthfuls of gateaux and was aware that they had been there for hours.

She leaned forward and offered him her lips. He needed no second invitation. With a practiced confidence he pressed his slightly opened mouth to hers, pulling and sucking on her lower lip, tasting cream and champagne. Her tongue slid into his mouth as he brought his hands up to cradle her face. Hermione felt Severus gently flick his tongue against hers. He inhaled deeply as her hands slid down his back. He let his own hands glide down from her face and reach between them surreptitiously giving each breast a quick caress and feeling their quickening nipples through the material of her robes. But after all, they were in a restaurant, no matter how private the alcove. Reluctantly, he withdrew.

“I should be getting back,” he murmured, but there was no urgency in his tone.

Hermione smiled. She had a trump card. “In case you haven‘t noticed, you‘ve consumed the equivalent of half a bottle of wine and a half a bottle of champagne. While the effects don‘t show I rather suspect you can‘t legally apparate at momemoment.”

Severus looked annoyed, “I’ll take the train.”

“You’ve missed it,” she pointed out the time on her watch. “Never mind that. Come back to the university with me for a while and let me show you around. All you need is a couple of hours to clear your head and you’ll be up to able to apparate again.”

“You forget, Miss Granger, that I went to the same university. I‘ve seen it before.”

“And you forget, Professor Snape, that you went there over twenty years ago. It might have changed a little. And you can meet my roommate.”

“The American?” Severus asked. “I can’t stand Americans.”

“I like this one,” Hermione commented. They stood up and Severus helped her with her cloak.

“What about the bill?” she asked.

“It’s been taken care of.”

“You planned all this pretty well, didn’t you?” Hermione asked.

“Quite well,” Severus replied smugly, little knowing that Hermione had plans of her own.

They walked down the stairs and stepped out into the empty alley. It was late afternoon, dark and wet. As the door to the bistro closed it left them standing in the shadows. Hermione turned and grabbed Severus for another passionate kiss. His mouth opened to hers immediately, and his hands slid down her back and clutched her bottom. She thrust her pelvis forward in response, rubbing against the growing hardness of his crotch. She felt him kneading her, fingers inching as close between her legs as the material of her cloak would allow. Hermione came up for breath, gasping in his ear then sucking and biting on his earlobe. Her groaned softly and began kissing down her throat, bending forward.

“Here. Now.” she whispered. “Against the wall.”

Severus pulled his mouth away from her. “I can’t take you up against a wall like a common whore!”

“I’ll bet you could,” she countered with a grin.

Severus took a deep breath and pulled away. “Come along, Lolita. Let’s go meet this American roommate of yours. Then I‘m off to Hogwarts.”