Survival of the Fittest

A/N – I don’t own the universe. Sigh.

--

In shock, Severus stood on the porch and listened to Dumbledore Floo away. Sounds from the bedroom drifted softly into his subconscious, fusing with Albus’ departing words. Hermione was humming softly, oblivious to his lecherous thoughts.

Hermione wanted him? “Fancied him,” had been Albus’ exact words. That certainly would explain why she melted against him when he touched her. Had that been her moaning in passionate response, or him? Yes, he wanted her. He had admitted that putrid fact to himself ever since the leaving feast. He had just chosen to ignore the festering wound for the past few years.

But Albus had poured salt in the wound when he had placed Hermione as Hogwarts’ new librarian. The barmy old wizard knew that the library was one of his havens. But to abduct him and force him to act on his feelings was beyond cruel.

And what of her motivations? Other than ignoring him, she seemed perfectly content here. Was it possible that Albus was correct?

Don’t be ridiculous, the inner sarcasm bit off.

“The proof in the pudding is in the eating,” replied his long forgotten conscience, which sounded suspiciously like Albus.

The sun began to fade over the horizon and Severus felt the temperature start to drop.

Severus had been so close – so close to convincing the ruddy old bat that he and Hermione had reached an accord. So close to getting the hell out of this tropical nightmare. Then she had jabbed him so hard in the ribs, he was sure to have a bruise tomorrow morning.

Had Hermione done it on purpose? Had she sabotaged their recent bid for freedom?

Those questions went unanswered as a frigid wind swirled in the air. One thing was certain. He would have answers to those questions before he left here.

Hermione Granger was done ignoring him.

--

Chewing the Cottage pie, Hermione looked directly down. She was not going to stare longingly out the window. Severus was there. Memories of their brief, but albeit brilliant, snogging session made her stomach do a flip-flop. She gulped her wine, welcoming the burn as it saturated her thoughts.

That arse had used her. Severus had probably staged that kiss for Dumbledore’s benefit. He would probably shag her if he had to.

“I refuse to cry,” sniffled Hermione softly as she drank more wine. “The only thing crying accomplishes is a red nose and puffy eyes. That’s what mum always says.”

Hermione pushed her food around her plate and smiled as her goblet refilled itself. Pushing her plate away, she grabbed the goblet and leaned back in her chair. Why not get pissed? It wasn’t as though she had anything better to do.

--

Having showered and dressed (as best as he could) for the occasion, Severus opened the bedroom door and readied himself to do battle. Instead of the aloof beauty he had imagined he wound find supping or reading a book, Severus found a very different Hermione Granger.

She was sprawled across the bed, her arms and legs at odd angles, her hair covering her face like some insipid mop. As he neared the bed, he could smell the reason for her incapacitation – wine. And judging by the fact that the self-filling goblet was empty, she would be incapacitated for some time. The goblet had actually stopped filling itself, the inanimate object clearly sensing that its connoisseur had imbibed enough.

Sitting next to her on the bed, Severus brushed the hair away from her face. How she survived with the unruly mass of curls was beyond him. The silky strands of her hair slipped through his fingers.

As if sensing he was near, Hermione turned her face toward him and mumbled something in her sleep.

“What?” he whispered.

Glassy eyes opened and stared at him. “It’zz not nice…to teaze. Now give m-me a kizz,” she slurred. Sitting up clumsily, Hermione grabbed Severus by his shirt and pulled him on top of her. Luckily, he caught himself before he crushed her.

She sealed her lips over his. Severus gave no resistance, letting her guide the awkward kiss. She ran the tip of her tongue along the seam of his thin lips and he opened them willingly, welcoming her invasion and stoking her passion. She tasted of sweet wine, and he couldn’t stop from moaning as he deepened this kiss.

She was the one who broke the kiss, absolving him of any wrongdoing as she kissed her way along his jaw and down to his neck. Severus went rigid above her, closing his eyes and enjoying the seduction. Hermione flicked her tongue across his Adam’s apple.

Just a little more, his conscience begged.

Ignoring his conscience, Severus rolled onto his back and maneuvered Hermione on top of him.

Seemingly unperturbed by the sudden change in orientation, Hermione leaned forward and smiled. “I want you,” she murmured, nuzzling his cheek.

Grabbing hold of her hips, Severus held her steady and gritted his teeth. If Hermione wiggled anymore, he would come in his shorts. He turned his head and captured her lips. The taste of her mixed with the wine lured him further away from any last remaining scruples to which he\'d anchored himself, trying to stay this insane course.

Moaning, Hermione deepened the kiss.

This is insanity! You must stop! His inner turmoil continued as lust overcame him.

She rocked back and forth, her hips mimicking the rhythm of her thrusting tongue.

Losing himself, Severus pushed his hips against hers, damning the layers of clothing that stopped him from taking her.

She writhed on top of him, rocking back and forth in a frenzy.

“Yes,” hissed Severus, thrusting his hips to meet hers.

The tempest stirred around them, and Severus let go of her hips and reached for her breasts, cupping them with a tenderness he didn’t realize he was still capable of. He ran the pads of the thumbs against the pebbled tips, causing the witch on top of him to still.

Giving one last gasp, Hermione gave in to the heady nirvana the wine offered. She sagged against his hands and snored softly, signaling the end to this passionate tryst.

“Damn!” Severus cursed as he rolled her to the side. Hermione was like a rag doll as she succumbed to unconsciousness. He was painfully aroused and his conscience was shouting in triumph, silently thanking Hermione for saving herself. In doing so, she had absolved him of any wrongdoing. How had he entertained the idea of taking advantage of her in this drunken state? His lack of control startled him.

If he’d had his wand, Severus would have disposed of their clothes with a quick flick of his wrist and a wicked thought, taking what she had so readily offered. He didn’t know whether to be in awe or afraid for his lack of scruples – his lack of control. That was the way it had always been with her.

She wanted him. At least that is what her drunken confession led him to believe.

Damn Albus and his meddling! Would the old fool ever leave him alone? Would Albus not rest until he was driven into madness?

Rolling off the bed, Severus walked to the table and sat down. The goblet before him filled with liquid and the plate filled with food. Pushing the plate away, he reached for the goblet and gave a mock toast to Albus and started drinking.

--

Where was the Hangover potion when she needed one? Groaning, Hermione managed to open her eyes.

Note to self. Must not empty self-filling goblet full of wine.

Rolling over, she slammed her eyes shut in the hopes that the room would stop spinning. The smell of breakfast made her stomach churn. She heard the bedroom door open and shut.

The bed dipped and she tensed. A strong hand caressed her hip and encircled her waist, pulling her against a firm, warm body.

“I’ve got something for you,” Severus purred against her ear. “Our enchanted cottage thinks of everything.”

Closing her eyes as the wave of nausea threatened to overtake her, Hermione groaned.

“Open your eyes, Hermione.” He nuzzled her cheek and worked his hand under her nightshirt as though it were familiar territory.

She opened her eyes and found a bottle of Hangover Potion almost touching her nose. Grabbing the bottle, Hermione sat up, strategically batting the distracting hand away. She uncorked the bottle and drank the sour contents down in one gulp.

Relief was instantaneous. No more throbbing headache and no more nausea, only the consequences of last night.

Severus slipped his arm around her and pulled her against him. “Come back to bed…luv,” he murmured seductively.

Reality was not something she wanted to face right now. Had she actually shagged Severus Snape last night? Act nonchalant. Act like he wasn’t anyone special.

Hermione wiggled away and jumped out of bed. “No thanks. I…uh…I’m really hungry,” she stammered, trying to come up with some sort of excuse. She walked to the table and feigned enthusiasm for breakfast.

“I’ve already eaten,” he said, stretching out on the bed.

She glanced at him and smiled. “Oh.”

Sitting at the table, Hermione started loading her plate with everything she could get her hands on.

Severus continued to stare at her, unsettling her even more and causing her to stab her sausage so hard it rolled off the plate.

“Damn,” she cursed, chasing the sausage around the table with her fork.

“Manners, Miss Granger,” Severus tsked. “What would the students think if they heard such an explicative?\"

“They would think you were probably somewhere nearby,” she retorted instinctively.

Smirking, Severus got off the bed and walked to the table. “I’m wounded, Hermione,” her name rolling off his tongue like an intimate touch, “especially after what we shared last night.”

Her fork clattered to her plate and she felt the bottom of her stomach dip in awareness as he walked behind her and gathered her hair in his hand.

“I enjoyed my name upon your lips,” he whispered against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

“I…uh,” she stammered, arching her neck and instinctively begging for his touch.

“So passionate,” Severus purred and granted her a kiss. “So responsive to my touch.”

Hermione held her breath and shuddered.

“So simple,” he continued, turning her head so that they were face to face.

“I – I,” mumbled Hermione, her words lost as his lips pressed against hers.

The kiss was seductive…enticing…full of promises and passion. She gave in, opening her lips and accepting the intrusion of his tongue as it glided past her lips. The kiss ended, much to her disappointment.

Severus rounded the table and sat down.

“See?” he murmured, pouring himself some juice.

“W-what?” she stuttered.

“How simple it is,” Severus answered huskily.

Clearing her throat, Hermione stared at him in confusion. “What is so simple?”

“A kiss,” he stated with a smirk. “Do you think you would be able to play the part of passionate lover when the headmaster visits again so that we may be released from this eternal hell?”

The uncertain desire he had stirred within her transformed into offended pride. He had bested her again. Her instincts screamed for her to run, but her dignity wanted to stand and fight. She smiled. “So we didn’t shag one another senseless last night?”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Of course not, silly girl. I prefer a fully conscious woman when I seek sexual gratification.\"

Finally managing to get the sausage on her plate under control, Hermione sliced it and lifted a piece to her mouth. “Pity,” she stated wistfully, taking the sausage between her teeth and chewing it thoughtfully.

Growing agitated, Severus shoved his chair back from the table and leaned back. “What are you babbling about?”

“I’ve always wondered what an old-- er man would be like,” Hermione replied. “At your age I’d be surprised if you still…well..erm…if you could. You are a little long in the tooth.”

His opaque eyes stared at her, measuring her words. And then he did something she had never seen him do before.

He laughed.

His laughter was a double-edged sword. On one hand it irritated her. On the other it made her smile. Deep lines no longer marred the corners of his lips in his trademark frown.

“And just what do you find so amusing?” Hermione smiled, trying to show that he had not unsettled her.

“You,” Severus continued laughing, “sampling your way through men. Or should I say boys. Tell me, Miss Granger, how was Weasley in bed?”

Setting her cutlery down lest she act on the urge to stab him with it, Hermione picked up her napkin, dabbed her mouth with it, and stood up. “Ronald isn’t the only lover I’ve had,” she lied, cultivating the inappropriate conversation. The last few weeks have been totally inappropriate. Why shouldn’t she cross the threshold of absurdity?

She walked toward him, her mind churning and accessing everything she’d ever read on seduction and sex. “I’ve…” she purred and touched his shoulder. “Had…” she murmured, straddling his lap. “Several lovers,” she added suggestively, brushing her lips over his cheek.

“Oh really,” Severus retorted, his voice catching as he cleared his throat.

Hermione shifted closer, pressing her breasts against his chest and feeling his reaction nestled against her thigh. “Yes. Really.”

“How fortunate for me,” Severus murmured, capturing her lips.

The moment his lips touched hers, she started reciting the ingredient list of Polyjuice Potion. It would not do to give in to him now. Her revenge was almost complete.

--

Growling, Snape seized her, angling his hips so that his arduous intent nestled closer to his goal. Clothes again! He had to have her. The torturous dance of baiting her and then letting her go had destroyed his resistance.

The thought of her with any other filled him with rage. If he ever saw Weasley again, he would Obliviate the memory of Hermione’s passion from the dolt’s memories. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, mimicking the rhythm of their eventual union.

Hermione groaned passionately, grinding her cloth-covered heat against him. Breaking the kiss, she arched her back and offered her neck to him.

Severus attacked it greedily, suckling the delicate skin and reveling in her response.

“P-perhaps we sh-should get more comfortable,” she stammered as she shifted on his lap and tried to stand up.

In frustration he nipped at her neck, taking immense pleasure in the red welt that appeared. “I agree.” He barely recognized his own voice.

She moved off him and started walking toward the door. He looked at the bed across the room longingly. Where the hell was she going?

As if hearing his silent question, Hermione turned and smiled at him. “I’ll be right back,” she mumbled.

Severus was puzzled. “Where are you going?”

She chuckled and kept on walking. “To the loo, of course. Contraceptive Potion.”

Severus nodded his head. How could he have forgotten something so vital? Walking to the bed, he grimaced. The bright red bed was rather tasteless. But then of course, what they were getting ready to do wasn’t exactly discreet.

“Damn!” a curse and a soft thud sounded from the next room.

“Hermione?” he called out.

“I—I’ll be right there,” answered Hermione reassuringly.

Removing his shirt, Severus scowled. His instincts of self-preservation were piqued. He shouldn’t give into this insanity. He was giving the old wizard what he wanted – a guiltless conscience. Yes, Dumbledore owed him. But why would he offer up Hermione Granger?

Part of him wanted to fuck her senseless, while the other part wanted to run away. You’re just afraid that if you have a taste of her, you’ll never let her go, his caustic inner voice cracked.

He sat on the bed and waited, emptying his thoughts as his desire for Hermione ebbed away, leaving only lingering doubts and questions. With practiced ease, Severus ignored what remained of his conscience and focused on the physical sensations the young witch had stirred within him.

What was taking her so long?

He was a patient man, but today was not the day to test his patience. Standing, he left the bedroom and quietly made his way across to the sitting room. The door to the loo was partly open, yet no sound came from within. With each step he took, he felt something tighten in his gut. Passing a writing desk, he stepped in something wet. He looked down to see that he had stepped in spilled ink.

Years of instinct honed by spying came to life as a sense of dread filled his soul. He was defenseless without his wand. “Hermione?” he called out.

There was no answer.

Opening the door to the bathroom, Severus saw a hastily scribbled note.

I’m not one to hold a grudge or seek revenge. But, in your case, I will make an exception. H.G.

Pleased with his restraint, Severus crumpled the parchment in one hand and looked at himself in the mirror.

He’d been duped. The little Gryffindor had led him on and dropped him flat.

“Touché, Miss Granger,” Snape drawled softly, applauding her scheme.

Knowledge is indeed power. Granger wanted him. He could have had her last night, but it would not have been very satisfying. He wanted her begging when he finally did lose all semblance of control and sanity.

It was time – time to stop playing around and do something about the Know-It-All. It was time to do what he had promised himself when Albus had left yesterday. He was going to make himself known. He was going to become a thorn in the lioness’ paw.

*****


A/N -- My thoughts and prayers go out to the victims of Hurricane Katrina. Please donate to the American Red Cross. And if you don\'t have any money to donate, they take blood. Or you can volunteer. If you have an extra room, go to craigslist.com and offer it to someone, whether they be local or all the way from the hurricane area. If you meet any of the hurricane victims, give them a hug. I am an eligiblity specialist in Florida and have seen so many of them already. They are the lucky ones who were able to get out before Katrina hit. They are the lucky ones who have family to stay with. And please prayer for those who weren\'t as fortunate.

Nesscafe -- I live in Lakeland in Polk County. We had three of the five hurricanes cross through last year. Yes, we still have blue tarps, but we did not experience anything compared to Katrina\'s victims.