Forbidden Lover

Chapter Four
Straight to the Heart


Hermione huddled in bed that evening, shaken by what she'd shared with Professor Snape. The inquisitive part of her still wanted to keep going and find out what the physical side of a relationship was all about. The other part was ashamed of throwing herself at him. What must he think of her? He'd probably had more lovers than she could count. After all, he was a teacher. He had experience and was no doubt sure of himself. She would be no match for him, schoolgirl that she still was. She didn't know how she would ever face him again, she thought, starting to cry a little. At last she slept, so soundly she didn't hear the dark figure step from the shadows, and stand over her with arms crossed, watching her sleep.


Snape was touched by the way Hermione had kissed him that afternoon, and was worried about how she'd looked when she fled from him. He didn't know who was the worse, her or him self. He stood there over her for a long time, until the school clock chimed midnight. Carefully he laid a black rose on the empty pillow next to her, and kissed her cheek before returning to his own rooms to brood.


Hermione didn't have the courage to face Snape in the morning. She was still burning with embarrassment when she woke up. She was surprised to find the black rose lying next to her. She sat up and sniffed it, wondering. Black like Snape, she thought, Could he? No! Not the Professor. He would never do such a thing, would he?


She asked Harry and Ron to get her some breakfast when they went down to eat, ignoring their speculative looks. They returned about an hour later, tray in hand, smirking at her.

"Your boyfriend was asking about you," Ron said.

"Don't start that again, Ron, I'm not in the mood," Hermione said, blushing.

"Snape did ask where you were, and we got an especially nasty glare when we told him you weren't coming down."

"He didn't seem too pleased," Harry put in.

"He isn't my boyfriend," she replied grumpily, taking the tray from Harry and sitting down to eat some breakfast while it was still warm. Her stomach was cramping this morning, which was not a good sign. No wonder she was depressed as hell. After she ate, she went back to her room and located her much-used muggle hot water bottle, which she filled with a flick of her wand. Hermione crawled back into bed, settling the red plastic bottle on her stomach. Better to ignore everyone since her mood was not very good.

Snape was upset and disappointed when Hermione didn't appear at breakfast. Had he offended her? He hadn't meant to, with his fumbling and shoddy kisses. Lucius had informed him that he was a sloppy kisser after witnessing some of his past efforts. The nasty comment had stuck with him all these years. Should he check on her? He wasn't supposed to be in the Gryffindor Tower at all, considering that it was Minerva's territory. He thought about it. There wasn't anything stopping him from getting into Hermione's room, and if she wouldn't visit him, then she left him no choice, even if it did make him shake inside with nerves.


Hermione was lying in bed, frowning and reading a book when Snape was suddenly standing there, next to the bed. She looked up, and stared at him in shock.

"How did you get in?" she asked, feeling a blush start to creep upwards.

"Quite easily, Hermione," Snape said. "May I sit down?"

What if she says no?

He wants to stay in here?

She felt quivery inside along with the slightly nauseated feeling she already had.

"Y..yes, that is, if you like."

He sat down carefully on the edge of the bed and looked at her closely.

"Why did you not come to breakfast this morning?"

"I......," she didn't quite know what to say but decided that the truth was best. "I guess I need to apologize for how I acted yesterday."

"You did nothing wrong."

"But I threw myself at you."

"Hermione, you were only curious."

And so was I. Don't regret kissing me, please!

She plucked at the bed cover, not looking at him.

"Why are you staying in bed?" he asked.

Her eyes cut upward, glancing at him before looking back down and blushing profusely.

"Why don't you get up and come get some more books?"

Why is she blushing, Severus? You've done it again, you idiot! You've embarrassed her.

"I don't feel too well today," Hermione said, thinking at the same time how lame the excuse sounded.

I hope I didn't make her ill.

Snape noticed the lump under the bedcovers, and reached down and touched it before he thought, finding it warm to the touch.

"What in Merlin's name is that?"

She sighed. He was not going to just go away, she thought in exasperation. She was glad to see him but had no intentions of telling him she was cramping.

Hermione pulled the suspect lump out from under the covers and handed it to him. He examined it with interest, turning it in his languid hands and looking back at her in abject puzzlement.

"It's a hot water bottle. It's a muggle item," she explained, hoping to distract him.


"What is it used for? Healing?"

"You might say that. If you hurt a muscle or something, the heat helps soothe it."

Snape handed it back to her. She wanted to put it back on her stomach but she didn't dare, not while he was there. She clasped it in her hands, staring up into his obsidian eyes.

Talk to her, you damned fool.

"Would you kiss me again?"

His words startled her.

"I would like that," Hermione said honestly.

He felt himself shiver inside as he leaned forward and awkwardly captured her lips with his own. Her arms went around his neck as she rose up in bed, moving closer to him. He shoved the hot water bottle aside. Somehow, he ended up on top of her, the covers between them, kissing her for all he was worth.

He was heavy, and he was lying on her legs. Hermione wriggled and managed to part her legs, letting him nest in between her thighs. His weight didn't feel too bad. She didn't know what to do with her hands. Timidly she allowed them to slowly explore his shoulders, afraid he would protest. In her mind she could just hear him booming "MISS GRANGER!!!" in disgust. To her surprise he said nothing, just kept kissing her. She ran her palms down his back, enjoying the first feel of the muscle that was lurking underneath his black frock coat and cape.

He held her face in his hands, his breathing starting to rasp heavily.

"This is so...forbidden," she whispered to him.

"Do you want me to stop?" Snape looked at her with heavy lidded eyes, their dark depths hiding his thoughts.

"No." She reached up and lightly traced his cheek and chin.

Gods, don't quit, Hermione.

He wanted to touch her, to explore. But he was scared stiff. Her thighs were pressed against the outsides of his, and his erection was pressed against the vee of her legs. What a way to lose his job. If Dumbledore even suspected he was after Hermione, he would be finished. He settled for touching her shoulders through the soft flannel of her gown instead while they kissed.

Hermione felt her breasts swelling against his chest. Her nipples were hard and slightly sore anyway. They rubbed painfully against the restraining fabric. She was getting sweaty and hot, despite the heavy snow and cold outside the drafty window next to the bed.

"It's hot in here," she said, as he nuzzled her cheek. His lips slid down to her jaw where his tongue tasted her skin.

"Unbutton your gown a little," he suggested, his mind on her taste.

Good idea, Professor, she thought, taking her hands away to unbutton four of the buttons.

"That's better."

Mmmmmmm.

Snape didn't answer her. Hermione was like a salvation to him, not fighting at all, holding onto him, letting him feel the press of her body against him. He'd never known this type of closeness. He was a starving man.

The smell of her drifted up to him from her open gown and he licked at the soft skin he found there. He eyed her nipples, which were poking upwards through the taut cloth. His fingers itched to touch them.

Would she let me?

Very nervously, he reached out a trembling finger and touched one of the mounds, tracing its hard tip. Hermione gasped and stared at his finger. She didn't say anything, so he let the rest of one long hand cup the entire mound, feeling its heat and weight in his palm. One of her hands came up over his, and he started to move his own away, thinking she wanted him to remove it. But no, she pressed her own over his and rubbed it. The sensation against her was intense. A picture from the Kama Sutra flashed into her mind, one where the man had his mouth on the woman's breast. She looked at him, wondering if he would do that to her. He didn't seem inclined to do so.

If Hermione didn't know better, she would swear Snape was blushing. His face was red, but given the heat in the room, and the fact that Professor Snape didn't blush was enough for her to discard the notion.

"Are..... are you going to touch me?" she stuttered.

Was she asking HIM to touch her??? His heart dropped to his feet.

"I am," he said, wanting to push the gown aside and look at her breast.

"No, like the book."

"The Kama Sutra???" He looked shocked.

"I'm sorry," she said automatically, taking his reaction for refusal in her own awkwardness and quest for acceptance. "I'm doing it again."

"What?"

"Throwing myself at you, and I'm sorry Professor." She pushed at his chest, and he moved off her reluctantly. "I won't do it again."

She took the hot water bottle and put it back under the cover with a sigh, no longer caring if he saw.

He had a strange look on his face.

I've offended her again.

"But you did not," he said at last.

"You're my teacher, and I... I don't know what to say."

He was lying next to her, still looking at her.

"Neither do I," he said, thinking that he himself was violating every possible rule in his teaching contract by wanting to be with her. He looked up at the ceiling. "I don't want you to stop visiting me."

"You don't?"

"No."

"But what if I want to kiss you again?"

"Then you shall kiss me."

She thought a moment.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Why is it so hard for us to stop, kissing, I mean? Is it because it's a physical act?"

He looked sidewise at her, thinking privately that she was being the know-it-all again, analyzing something as simple as a kiss.

"It's hard because it's enjoyable. And really, we shouldn't be doing it."

"I know."

"But Hermione, I can't seem to help myself," he admitted.

"It's okay," she said, laying her head on his shoulder. "I really don't want you to help yourself. I want you to kiss me, please."

He actually smiled at her, and spent his day lying on her bed with her, holding her hand in his and kissing her.