#3 ~ You Shouldn\'t Walk About in the Dark

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine.
****************************

Chapter 6 ~ Bringing to Light the Things that are Hidden

Hermione rubbed her eyes with one hand before opening them, amazed she was still alive. She looked around. She was still in the Shrieking Shack, but it seemed she was alone. On the chair by the bed lay her wand. One hand was free.

Not wasting time, she set about untying her other hand, then her feet. She was still half-naked. She leapt off the bed and grabbed her wand, pointing it at the shadows as she investigated. The deatheater was gone.

She repaired her jeans, t-shirt and robes, hastily donning them. Why had he let her go? She decided not to worry about the whys and wherefores. She opened the splintered door, cast the lumos spell and ran back down the passageway toward the Whomping Willow entrance. She stunned a few unfortunate rats on the way, not taking any chances that the small sounds were made by the man who had abducted, then released her.

She climbed out from between the tree’s roots, and cast about, before heading for the lights of Hogwarts at a full run. It didn’t take her long to get there. She stopped outside the main doors to catch her breath, and try to smooth her hair. She didn’t want anyone to know what had happened to her. It was bad enough Severus was always warning her about traversing the grounds unescorted. He would be livid if he found out she had been taken and nearly been killed by a rogue deatheater. She would have to hide it from him.

Taking a deep breath, she entered the castle. No one was about, but Peeves, who swooped toward her only to get a blast from her wand that sent him howling. She was in no mood. She headed directly for the dungeons and her rooms. When she arrived there, she unwarded her door and entered, wand drawn. She had a sick feeling inside that hadn’t subsided since she left the shack. After poking about, and being satisfied no one untoward was there, she walked into her bedroom and sat heavily on the bed and pulled her robes over her head, tossing them on the quilt.

Who had the deatheater been? Why did he abduct her, just to let her go…when he could’ve exacted a great revenge on Severus by killing her? And the questions he asked her…so personal, so devastating. It was as if he were trying to dislodge her very soul. She hugged herself, hung her head, and let the tears fall. She felt so vunerable, so helpless. He had touched on issues she just shoved to the back shelf of her mind. The depth of her masochism. Her decision to give herself to Severus. Not knowing how he honestly felt about her. Her cowardice in not wanting to know. He had also drawn some things to the fore she hadn’t realized, like the strength of her love for the dark Potions Master, and the possibility that, perhaps he did love her because of his actions. Her willingness to die over something others might feel insignificant, rather than betray him. She dropped her head in her hands, feeling small and alone.

She got up and walked through her rooms, into her Spell lab. She noticed light coming from under the adjoining Potions Lab door.

Severus.

She ran to the door and pulled it open. She walked into the lab.

Severus was busily putting away his new ingredients in the storeroom. He read each labeled bottle and put it neatly in its proper place. He looked up and saw Hermione standing in the doorway and gave her a polite nod.

“Good evening, Hermione,” he said, returning to stocking the shelves. “I looked for you in your rooms when I returned, but you weren’t there. I surmised you were occupied in the library, wrapped, as usual, around a book.”

When Hermione didn’t reply, Severus stopped stocking and looked at her sharply. She continued to stare at him as if he were a ghost. Putting down the bottle of herbs in his hand, he stepped out of the storeroom and stood in front of the witch, concern evident in his dark eyes as he searched her face.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” he asked, taking her by the shoulders, “Did something happen? Are you all right? Talk to me.”

“I need you, Severus,” she whispered in a small voice.

“Hermione…” he began.

“I need you. Now,” she said, moving into him, winding her arms around his waist, and pushing her body against him urgently.

“Yes,” he replied, looking down at her and feeling himself responding, “of course…of course. Come, let me take you to my bedr…”

“No. Here. Now,” she murmured against his robed chest.

He pulled back from her, and looked in her eyes. He saw a quiet, burning desperation in them. Wordlessly, he warded the doors, the floo and placed a silencing charm around the lab. Hermione had begun to almost frantically unbutton his robes. She was trembling. He hardened immediately, his cock straining against his boxers.

She wasn’t doing a very good job of releasing the row of buttons. He caught her hands, kissed them and told her, “I’ll do it. You undress.”

He continued working on the buttons as Hermione pulled her t-shirt over her head, revealing her beautiful breasts. His fingers worked faster, his breath starting to come in gasps. Hermione unzipped her jeans, and pulled them with her panties down to her ankles, and stepped out of them, pushing them away with her feet.

Severus stripped off his robes, and stepped out of his boxers. She was on him in a moment, running her small hands over his body as if this were the last time she would ever touch him, reaching down and stroking his long shaft in a way that made his blood boil. She pulled him by it, back to the closest lab table, and hopped up on it, shifting herself to the very edge. Severus tried to kiss her, but she sobbed…”just please, Severus.”

He positioned himself before her and slid into her tightness. She gasped and shuddered against him as he began to thrust in her, somewhat hesitantly…wanting to know what was driving her. It hadn’t been lust he saw in her eyes…it was something needier than that. He began to stroke her in earnest, feeling her tight wet walls clenching and pulling his shaft in that incredible way he had become used to. He thrust harder, the animal in him starting to come out as she gasped his name and begged for him to fuck her raw. His balls tightened in answer and he lay her down on the table and buried his length in her to the hilt, and she screamed. Yes…that was it….right there. He pistoned into her, slipping his hands under her shoulders so he could pull her down to meet each deep penetration. He fucked her hard, sweat flying from his body as she began to call out her love for him, declaring it over and over, how he was the only man she wanted or needed, and he buried himself in her up to his balls, beating against her cervix like a human piledriver, reveling in the wet slosh that sounded where their bodies met. If she needed this, he would give it to her. He would tear through her diaphragm, if he could. She slid up the lab table and he roughly pulled her back into his glistening cock, dripping wet with her juices, plunging over and over and over into her luscious body, her gift to him, lost in the pleasure of her softness. He knew she was getting close, and sped up, arching into her, watching her wide, amber eyes unfocus, feeling her the walls of her pussy beginning to pulse with heat. He wanted to go with her this time, and began stroking her for all he was worth, the pleasure of her tightness caressing his thick shaft building up the pressure as if stoking a raging fire.

Yes…yes…Hermione…yes! He grunted as his balls tightened and she screamed, gushing over his cock so hotly and clamping down on him so hard that he felt as if he were immersed in a living volcano, and then he released, his own scorching fire bursting through his shaft in a wild pulsing, spurting rush of pleasure that made his knees buckle as he pressed deeply inside her, and filled her to overflowing. They clung to each other, floating and shuddering, Hermione whispering her love over and over, Severus panting against her, listening to her beautiful words, his heart tight with spent passion. They lay there a few moments, still entwined, still pulsing, beating like one heart, coming back to earth reluctantly, and settling in each other’s arms.

Still breathing heavily, Severus lifted his head to look at her face. Hermione was staring at the ceiling, a strange, haunted look in her eyes.

“Hermione…” he whispered, still panting. She didn’t respond. “Hermione,” he whispered again, more urgency in his voice.

The amber eyes turned to him, soft and warm. “Yes, Severus.”

He took a breath.

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

Hermione’s eyes widened with surprise, then joy.

“No,” she said softly, “I really didn’t.”

“Well I do. I love you. Very much.”

Hermione let out a sigh, and what felt like a million happy tears.

*********************************

Hermione finally went back to her rooms, still happy, still crying, but insisting Severus needed his rest. It was she who needed the space though, to revel in the newfound knowledge that he loved her after all. Severus watched the happy witch go, smirking to himself. He had told her in no uncertain terms, not to expect chocolates, and especially not roses, because he hated them, and not to expect him to be clinging to her like some hormonal, love-whipped sixth year, because that was just not going to happen. There would definitely be no valentine dances. He couldn’t take all the hearts Albus strew over the Great Hall, and had been known to blast the tiny, arrow-shooting angels from the revoltingly pink pseudo-sky when in attendance. They were going to be adult and dignified about this thing called Love, or else. Hermione had smiled as he ranted, buck naked, and agreed to all his terms willingly. She kissed him a final good night on his large nose before bouncing away to her rooms.

Pulling on his boxers, and throwing his robe over his arm, he walked over to the bag where his new potion supplies were stored. He picked it up, intending to carry it to his rooms and finish stocking in the morning, when a white piece of fabric fell out, landing in a small pile on the floor.

He bent, picked it up and shook it out, examining it. The mask needed mending. There was a small tear in one eyehole, that probably happened when he was undressing so quickly, rushing to hide his deatheater robes and get in the lab before she returned.

She hadn’t told him about her ordeal. Perhaps she never would…but he could sort of understand it. She wouldn’t want him to know how careless she had been, or to tell him how close to death she was. She certainly wouldn’t want to share the mental torment she went through…things that he felt had to come to the surface, for the sake of her sanity. She held too much in. He hadn’t been aware of the depth of her love for him until tonight. It was the kind of love that deserved an answering love of equal depth. He would die for her, too, in an instant. So he answered her love, vocally, and was glad for it. After all, it was his place as a lover to give her what she needed.

He put the mask back into the bag, and extinguished the storeroom light. He warded the door securely against thieving students, and, uncharacteristically humming to himself, he turned in to bed, fervently hoping his sudden annoying inclination to hum would pass in a few days.

THE END

**************************
A/N: ok..are all you rabid romantics satisfied? He admits it…damn it. Of course, I couldn’t let it happen in the normal way…his snarkiness must be maintained at all costs. Hope you enjoyed. Please review ;)

JW: The bitterness expressed by Severus about being a spy, was in regards to the many who believed he was a true deatheater.

ANON (and the rest of ya’ll): Get out of my head! Lol Astute. Very astute.