Mrs.Malfoy

Author Notes: Short but oh so sweet *wink*... and maybe a bit humorous towards the end? LOL! ENJOY!


His knock was resounding. Almost everyone in the small house jumped. They didn’t expect anyone this late hour.

“Are you going to get that or sit there on your thumbs all evening?” Mrs. Weasley asked the others sitting around the table. Ron and Harry were playing Exploding Snap as Ginny and Hermione looked on. The twins were munching on the newest cherry cobbler to grace the cooling rack. It was Hermione that stood up and answered it.

“Mr. Snape,” she acknowledged.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” he nodded.

Ron grimaced. “Do you have to call her that? For Merlin’s sake, don’t speak that name in this house!”

Snape sneered at the youngest Weasley male, but turned back to Hermione. He gritted his teeth and began, “Hermione…May I speak with you for a moment?” He looked around the room. “In private.”

Hermione looked to Mrs. Weasley who immediately started to swat the four boys on the backs of their heads and tugged Ginny along by her elbow. It took less than two minutes to clear the room, even the cherry cobbler disappeared around the corner.

“How did you know where I would be?”

“Your husband has a loose tongue. I came to tell you that I have done as you’ve asked. Lucius will be more paranoid than ever now.”

“I SAID DON’T SAY THAT NAME!”

Hermione sighed, took out her wand, and summoned the extendable ears. The wiry cords twisted in the air and landed smoothly into her awaiting palm. “As you were saying, Severus?”

Snape took a moment. She had called him by name. His first name. It sounded heavenly coming from her lips. He had to take a deep breath to regain his composure and continue with his report.

“Yes, Hermione,” he said softly. He wanted to feel the word come off his tongue in something other than a malicious tone. It was beautiful. “I believe he will be easier to push into the depths of senility now that the task is out of the way. But I warn you now. He will suspect you. Do not tip your hand at any moment, and do not be tempted to lose your poise in the face of malcontent. The second you lose your temper, you will inadvertently say something that will cause you harm. Do you understand?”

Hermione nodded solemnly. “Thank you, Mr. Snape. I hope I have a new ally in you.”

He took her hand in his. “You do,” he said as he paid her the same courteous gesture of kissing the back of it. “And yes, I will always be your ally.”

“Thank you.”

He began to leave but stopped short of the door. He wasn’t sure if it was her saying his name or not, but he couldn’t leave her standing in the middle of the kitchen wearing deep green robes with her hair pulled back off her face; small tendrils of curls framed it softly. He turned to face her once more. Somehow, Gryffindor courage seeped into his blood. Damned if he knew how, but it did. It was now or never.

“Severus…please call me Severus. It sounds sweeter when you say it.”

Hermione blushed softly and spoke even softer. “Hermione.”

“Hermione.”

And with her name still tasting sweet on his lips, he left.

*****

Hermione spent the evening and most of the next day at the Burrow. Dobby appeared around three and collected her. Ginny tried to talk Hermione into staying and that somehow they would think of a way to keep her safe, but Hermione told her that under no certain terms was she to go against Lucius, especially now that her plan had been put into action.

She was more determined than ever to carry it out. She would find a way to drive Lucius into the unknown recesses of insanity. If nothing else, than to give the mediwitches a new test subject in the matter. And we all know how charitable Hermione can be.

She took to her bedroom and closed the door. She decided to get freshened up before preparing supper, and began a hot bath. Pouring just the right about of bubble bath into the gush of water from the faucet, Hermione sighed and began to undress. It seemed strange at first, but the current that seemed to surge as her fingers lightly brushed her naked shoulder grew stronger with every article of clothing that was removed. Hermione stood for a moment and looked at her body in the full length mirror hanging on the back of the bathroom door. She had grown, and much to Hermione’s agreement, she became quite a woman. Her breasts were full and firm. Her waist whittled down from her ribcage, and her hips flared at just the right angle. She lifted her right hand and ran it over the fading bruise on her stomach. There was a soft jolt at the feeling of her own satin skin. She closed her eyes, relishing in it. But it wasn’t her husband’s face that leered at her from behind her eyelids. It was Severus. And the look he gave her was approving.

Her hand slowly travelled back up her body and cupped her left breast gently. She reached with her thumb to feel her hardened nipple, how very sensitive it was. She opened her eyes and slid into the hot bubbly water.

She grabbed for the soap, but it slipped through her fingers and splashed into the depths of the tub. She reached for it again, but it eluded her. Her third attempt was a different sensation. Her soapy fingers slid easily across her thigh. The sheer smoothness of such motion quickly conjured images of hot, sweaty, slippery skin rubbing across her body. She quickly found the soap and began creating a good lather with her fingers. Then, she began washing every inch of her flesh, taking the time to stop at various points to feel how slick she could be.

Hermione laid her head back on the cushion that adorned the end of the tub and allowed her hands to explore her own body. She squeezed her breasts and tugged gently on her nipples. She felt the flat expanse of her stomach, and eventually, the wiry curls that lay beyond. She opened her eyes, for somehow they were closed again, and stopped herself. If she was going to do this, then by hell she was going to do this right. Quickly grabbing her wand, she spoke a spell that had only once uttered past her lips. A spell Lavendar Brown had taught her. Within seconds, Hermione felt a nudge at her core. The invisible conjuration was begging for entrance. She parted her legs slowly. She could feel it enter her depths and begin to thrust slowly. Her fingers continued their ministrations with her breasts; grasping, tugging, cupping, rolling.

She began to buck in the water, splashing an inestimable amount into the floor. She closed her eyes again and allowed her imagination to take her exactly where she wanted to go. Directly into the arms of Severus Snape. She could see him clearly hovering over her in the bath. His hair was wet, and his body was just as slick as hers. She could feel his heat emanating against her. She panted his name.

The pressure inside the pit of her gut began to build, and so she began to move against her imaginary lover faster and harder. She could still hear her name being spoken almost as a whisper.

“Hermione.”

She moaned into air, as her inner self moaned into his mouth as he kissed her deeply. She could see his intent look of concentration, and then his eyes turned darker still, his mouth eliciting a deep growl. Her own orgasm broke loose mere moments later. Her body arched, her head thrown back, her mouth agape, her eyes clinched shut. Her voice echoed into the room.

“Severus!”

*****

Miles away, in a sullied little bar, a man with a dark brooding look about him jumped from his seat and looked down to the floor.

“Sir, is there something wrong with your brandy?” The barkeep gave him a deeply concerned look.

The man looked up, quirked an eyebrow, and shook his head. “No, I believe…I just spilled something on my lap. Where is your loo?”

The plump man pointed a plumper finger to the hall nearby. Severus followed the path and slammed the door shut behind him.

“For the love of Merlin, what just happened?” he whispered to himself as he began to cleanse his boxers with a simple charm.