Hold Me Close

Thank you to all who reviewed! I am really excited about this story, and though I am not abandoning Bloodbound, this one seems to be getting faster updates, because the chapters are just coming to me so quickly. Plz R&R and enjoy!


Hermione awoke to the sounds of bustling in the kitchen. After a quick stretch, she crept downstairs to the kitchen, where she knew her mother and father would be.

“Hello, dear, have a good nap?” her mother asked her warmly. Hermione took a seat at the breakfast bar.

“Yes, mum. Thanks,” Hermione replied. She leaned over to see what her mother was preparing for what she assumed was lunch due to the sunshine. Margaret Granger looked at her daughter.

“Yes it is a bit late for lunch, but far too early for supper, so we’ll just take that meal a bit late as well,” she said, returning to her work. “I thought we might have a nice chicken stew for lunch if that suits,” she finished, in answer to Hermione’s quizzical looks.

Chicken stew actually sounded quite good to Hermione, who had scarcely eaten all day.

“Would you like a bit of toast, dear?” Her mother asked her, eying her suspiciously. Without waiting for answer, Margaret bustled to make toast the muggle way when Hermione stopped her.

“Yes, mum, but don’t worry about it, I’ll get it,” Hermione said, pulling her wand from her sleeve. With a quick incantation and wave of her wand, there was a plate of toast in front of her.

“No matter how many times I watch you do things like that, it still doesn’t cease to amaze me,” her mother chuckled. Hermione grinned, and began to eat the toast.

Hermione knew she was being silly by watching for an owl. Severus was unlikely to reply at all, much less so soon. She would be thoroughly surprised if he had even received her letter. Merlin only knew where he was, and if he was even alive. Hermione shuddered at that thought. Of course he is alive, she thought to herself. Severus was far to brilliant to have gotten himself killed.

“Are you alright, dear? You look a bit distraught,” her mother asked her gently.

“I’m fine, mum, really,” Hermione replied, standing up from her stool. “I actually should send an owl to the Weasleys to let them know all is well, she said, as she transfigured her plate into an owl. She grinned at her mother’s astonished expression.

Hermione wrote a short letter letting everyone know she had made it ok, and all was well and tied it to the leg of the owl, with instructions to take it to the Weasleys. When she returned to the kitchen, her mother was ladling the freshly prepared stew into three bowls. Hermione and her parents sat down to what proved to be a quiet lunch, filled with completely idle conversation.

Hermione thanked Merlin she was able to eat the stew and keep it down. She did not know what she would do if her mother caught her in the loo, yacking up. She would probably think Hermione had an eating disorder. “If only it were that simple,” Hermione thought. After everyone was finished their stew, Hermione performed a quick scourgify to clean the dishes, and levitated them to their appropriate places in the cupboards.

“I love it when you clean up,” Margaret breathed.

Hermione suppressed a giggle. She was so glad she was of age and could perform magic outside of school.

“Shall we go for a bit of shopping, then?” Howard Granger asked his wife and daughter. Both women’s faces were alight with excitement. Any time Howard suggested shopping, they always received presents.

“That sounds lovely, Dad,” Hermione said, and the three of them left to do some shopping in London.

They returned several hours later, after having taken their dinner in a small bistro, and having shopped until they were ready to fall over.

“Thanks again for the book, Dad,” Hermione said. “I am feeling quite tired, I think I’ll go up to bed.” She kissed both her mother and her father and ascended the stairs to her bedroom.

When Hermione reached her bedroom, she heard noise on the other side of the door. Drawing her wand, she quietly entered. She heard a swish and saw the familiar billow of robes in the corner of the room. Just as she was about to cast a body bind, she caught a familiar scent. No one else she knew in the world smelled of lightly burned incense and harsh white soap.

“Severus,” she breathed. Severus Snape stepped out of the corner of her bedroom. He looked quite a sight. His black hair was disheveled and his normally crisp, clean black robes were wrinkled and dusty. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he had a distinct five o’clock shadow. She allowed him to embrace her, and trembled as he breathed in the scent of her hair.

“Severus, what are you doing here? You could get yourself killed!”

“I got your letter this afternoon,” he said, quietly.

“Why didn’t you just owl back? You are putting yourself in grave danger by being here,” she persisted, nearly appalled that he had thrown caution to the wind this way.

“Hearing back from you would take too long, if you even would reply,” he said, looking into her eyes. He placed a hand on her stomach. “Are you really pregnant?” he asked her incredulously.

“Yes,” she whispered. “But I told you before, you don’t have to worry about a thing. I can handle this on my own I-“

Severus interrupted her by planting a kiss hard and full on her mouth. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed deeper. She melted into him, placing her own arms around his neck, kissing him back with the same fervor.

When they finally broke away, he took her hand and led her over to her bed, beckoning for her to sit down beside him.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her, concern apparent in his eyes.

“Terrified. And I can’t stop vomiting,” she said not looking at him.

Severus reached into his robes and removed a small jade vial of colorless liquid.

“This will help to calm your nerves, and settle your stomach,” he told her, handing it to her. “Sprinkle a few drops on your food, it will not affect the taste, but it will allow you to eat food and retain it,” he said, looking at her as if he hadn’t seen her in years. “Does anyone else know about this?” he asked her.

“No. I wanted to tell my mum so many times, but I couldn’t bring myself to. She and dad are already so worried about me going with Harry and Ron to Godric’s Hollow, and then continuing the search for the remaining horcruxes. This is my burden, and I shall bear it alone,” she finished quietly.

“You said in your letter that I should feel no obligation, that you did not even expect a reply. Do you honestly think I have only come here to wish you good luck?” he asked her, readopting his usual condescending nature, which he had only used with her when he was exasperated or just did not know what else to say.

“Well, no. But I don’t want you to think that by coming here I expect anything of you. I don’t want you to put your life in danger just for me. So far as anyone knows you are a loyal Death Eater, who murdered the greatest wizard of our time,” Hermione said, beginning to tear up.

Severus leaned over and began to kiss her again, wrapping both arms around her, pulling her closer to him. Hermione grabbed at his back, pulling him on top of her.

He began to caress her back, kissing her more passionately with each passing second, and she parted her legs allowing him to come closer to her. Slowly, Severus slid a hand up Hermione’s blouse, stroking her stomach and then trailing upwards toward her chest.

Hermione leaned up and helped him remove her blouse. He looked at her with a great longing, as he began to kiss her again, tasting her whole mouth, breathing her in. Hermione tugged impatiently at his robes, which he helped her to remove from his body.

Severus unclasped her bra and removed it. Her took one of her newly hardened nipples into his mouth, and tasted her again. He began to trace kisses from her breast to her belly, stopping at the top of her jeans. He unbuttoned them, and pulled them off with a burning urgency, and she felt electrified at the feeling of his fingertips on her bare skin.

Hermione reached up and unbuttoned his trousers, tugging at them with the same need, the same want that he had removed her own with. He stared at her, his naked flesh pressed against her, and began to remove her knickers with a gentle yearning.

Severus kissed her stomach, and trailed kisses downward until he reached her hot, wet core, burning with a need to touch him; to feel him; to have him deep inside her once again. Severus tasted her center, desire and need filling him as it never had before.

Hermione pulled him up to kiss him, and when his throbbing erection grazed her sex, he could no longer contain himself. With a quick silencing charm on the room, he plunged deeply into her, both of them gasping in pleasure.

Severus dove into her, thrusting deeper and deeper, feeling her hot muscles tighten against him. He began to increase his speed in response to her gentle moaning, and he could feel her squeezing mercilessly at his back, forcing him deeper and deeper into her.

Hermione felt her climax begin to slowly build, blazing within her belly like a deep fire, and Severus, upon feeling her impending climax began to be pushed into climax himself. He thrust deeper and faster than he’d ever done in his life and they both gasped in unison at the sweet explosion, and Severus collapsed on her in a heap.

When they had regained the strength to move, Severus curled his arm around her, pulling her close to his side.

“I don’t want you to go to Godric’s Hollow,” he said softly.

“Severus, you know that isn’t an option. I’ve no excuse not to. I feel certain that I can find something to clear you. Something that Dumbledore must have left behind. Until then we have to be cautious, about the baby, and about us. Ron and Harry cannot know anything is amiss, and if I tell them I cannot go with them to Godric’s hollow they will know something is terribly wrong,” Hermione replied, barely above a whisper.

Severus winced at the mention of Weasley’s name. He willed himself to ignore it; this moment could not be spoiled by that Weasley idiot.

After a few moments, Hermione’s breathing evened, and Severus knew she had fallen asleep. He inhaled the scent of her hair again.

“I love you Hermione Granger,” he whispered, almost inaudibly.

Silently and carefully he got up from the bed and dropped the owl charm on her desk. Hoping the sound would not wake her, he disapparated, into the cool night, back to his post before someone should notice his prolonged absence.