A Sad and Happy Story

Chapter Eight


Severus’ first impulse was to carry the little witch into his quarters and never let her go. The whole situation was just so shocking—not that either of them was terribly surprised; the groundwork had been in place for a while now, but it had been subtle.

Now that it had been brought to the forefront of their consciousness, the questionable nature of their situation hit them both, but particularly Severus, hard.

The suspicion and paranoia that had been an integral part of his daily life for so long was not so easily appeased, though he dearly hoped that she was being genuine. What if it was all some kind of horrible joke? No, first they needed to stay in the office and talk it through, no matter how difficult it was. And if he discovered this was some manner of prank, woe unto her. But if, IF—dare he hope—she was sincere, well… he didn’t dare hope just yet. Still, it didn’t seem like her to be deceptive.

The little witch in his lap caught his attention when she shifted and tilted her head up to look at him.

“Can I ask you something?”

So simple, so bold. Part of him was very afraid of what she was going to ask, but it had been his idea to talk, after all.

“Of course.”

“Those accidents that happened today, in your last class, they weren’t really accidents, were they?”

Had she been talking to Albus? More importantly, would she be angry? He had done some fairly awful things to people she considered her friends. Suddenly, he felt guilty and it must have shown in his face.

Hermione slipped her arms down around his middle and squeezed, “You can tell me,” she said, gently, eyes searching his face, “it’s alright, I won’t be upset.”

“You are correct,” Severus sighed deeply, “you have to understand,” Hermione could feel his heart beating rapidly as he struggled to explain himself, “this is more difficult than I had imagined.” It had been so long since anyone cared to ask him about his motivations, his feelings. It didn’t mean he didn’t have them; it did, however, the idea of putting such information about himself on the table was highly unpalatable.

Hermione sensed his hesitation, and having some experience in the area, figured it was related to insecurity somehow.

“You can trust me, you know,” she said, reaching up with one hand and cupping one side of his face, her thumb brushing soothingly across his cheek.

Severus leaned into her touch. He wanted so badly to believe her his chest positively ached.

“What can I do to make you believe me?” she asked, tilting her head. Using the hand she already had resting on his face, Hermione pulled Severus’ head down and brushed her soft lips against his. She then touched her nose to his.

“I’ve fancied you for some time now,” Hermione breathed.

For the life of her, she did not know where this was coming from. All she knew was that they had reached a point of no return, and she was bound and determined to see it go well. For that to happen, he needed an intervention: this man had no self-esteem. But Hermione had been that person, and had absolutely no desire to go back.

Sure, her friends’ behavior of late had hurt, but if she had been the same girl that first showed up at Hogwarts, it would have destroyed her. Years of learning, socializing, and defying Voldemort had built up a sense of confidence in her, transformed her into the confident woman she now was.

He must never have had such a transforming experience. She remembered once, when Harry’s conscience could take no more, he had told her all he had learned of this man’s remarkable life. She had been shocked and pained at what she heard.

Harry’s mum had been kind when it was easy, which simply was not enough, for though she had never truly known him Hermione felt sure that Severus would never be an “easy” man. And while she knew that Dumbledore had given him a second chance, it seemed he was not going out of his way. It was plain to see that the old man did not have the same tenderness and concern for Severus that he had for Harry. This, genuine affection in exchange for nothing, was new to him.

It was then the full gravity of the situation hit Hermione—she didn’t dare screw this up, if only for the damage it would cause him. But she was sure of herself, she had never wanted anything more than to be with him.

Releasing her hold on Severus, Hermione relaxed back into his lap.

“Forgive me,” she said, “I’ve been terribly inconsiderate. You wanted to have a discussion and I have done nothing but change the subject.”

Although she had said nothing to give herself away, and he would never, ever consider venturing into her mind without her consent, Severus knew that somehow she had understood.

“Thank you,” he said slowly. There was something wrong about asking her questions when he refused to answer her, but it was a start. It was something she was willing to give him.

“So,” she said, smiling up at him, “you had wanted to discuss this development?”

Did she memorize -everything- he said?

“Why?” he asked without preface.

“Why did I kiss you? This is going to sound horrible, and I don’t know what you’ll think of me, but as I said, I have fancied you for some time now, and I had made my mind that IF the opportunity presented itself, I would take a chance.”

“So what now?”

“At the risk of sounding forward, there is nothing I would like so much as to pursue a relationship, assuming of course that you are interested.” Hermione felt sure that the sentence had come out instead as one long word.

When Severus spoke, his words were muffled by her hair, “I am.”

“Y-y-you are? You are… you want to be with me?” Of all the scenarios she had imagined, this caught her by surprise.

“Yes,” he said, his face relaxing into a near smile, “I do, and I suppose those ‘accidents’ in my class were how I expressed that. Your way was, well, much more concise. I apologize for harming your friends.”

“Please,” she laughed, “don’t. You were brilliant.”

“You think so?”

“It was a very sweet thing to do,” Hermione laughed. ‘Severus Snape… sweet? What next?’

What came next caught Hermione completely off guard. Severus’ hand threaded through her hair and guided her into a gentle but thorough kiss while the arm around her waist held her still more securely. Just as she moved to embrace him, her stomach let out an embarrassingly loud growl. Immediately, he broke away.

“You haven’t been eating well,” he observed, standing and lifting her with him, “come with me.”

Severus was always one to think ahead; he had scrutinized her habits, originally unconsciously, since the beginning of the school year. Her eating habits were deplorable; sometimes she would go days, maybe up to a week hardly eating at all, other times she would eat like a starving person to make up for it. She was hardly eating at all right now, and he was planning on interrupting their evening at some point with the offer of food.

He led Hermione to the backmost part of his office, where a door beneath a tapestry covered in runes opened to his private quarters. They walked into a sitting room where a plate of fruit—hard to come by at that time of year—was waiting on a coffee table with two tall, iced glasses of a thick, white substance.

Everything in his quarters reinforced Hermione’s preconceived notions of Severus: no one knew this man. His home was comfortable, he liked luxurious foods—coconut juice for heaven’s sake! She sat next to him, very close, on the sofa and smiled as she realized that between the company and the food he seemed to be enjoying himself.

At some point, Severus must have noticed her staring at him, and turned to face her. This time, they moved together, as if it were habit.

Her lips were soft and pliant under his and though it was nearly winter, she smelled like spring. Hermione dragged her teeth slowly, gently over Severus’ lip, causing him to gasp and hold her closer. When he entered her mouth with his tongue, she pulled his hand up and let it rest on her ribcage, just under her breast. She wasn’t shy, and he took the hint. Emboldened by her initiative, Severus slipped his hand up under her shirt, first palming then kneading her breast until he could feel her hardened nipple against his palm through the thin veneer of what felt like a lace brassier.

She moaned into his mouth and trailed her own little hand down from his neck with a light, teasing touch across his shoulders and chest. Her touch became firmer as she reached his abdomen, downward strokes on his stomach in a circular motion. His head snapped back and he grunted sexily after gasping for air. Hermione’s hand stopped just above his belt, where she left it, and she applied the perfect amount of suction to his adam’s apple.

Severus fisted his hand in her hair; he was drowning in sensation and emotion. How long had it been since he had a woman to kiss, to love? His heart and body were completely overwhelmed.

Raising herself to her knees, Hermione trailed her lips up to Severus’ ear, where she nipped and suckled alternately and was rewarded with a litany of low, throaty curses that he seemed to have no control over. In the name of balance, Hermione swung one of her legs across his so that she was in his lap, straddling him. She was sitting fairly far back until one Severus found his arms again, and pulled her in closer, tight against his body.

His hands slipped down to her bum, grasping, kneading, and guiding her into contact with the evidence of his arousal.

The feeling of total contact was perfectly overwhelming. As it happened, Severus was a rather adept kisser, and between the way her mouth was being plundered and how her body rested perfectly against his warm, hard body, Hermione couldn’t stop herself from letting out a high-pitched whine and grinding her core against him. This seemed to snap him back to reality. He called a halt to their amorous activities by pulling her into his arms and settling her into a less arousing position.

He took a moment to regain his composure, breathing harshly into her hair and smoothing her blouse back down with his hands.

“You need to get back,” he said hoarsely, “you’ll be missed.”

“Hmmmm.” Hermione trailed her hand back down his abdomen, this time resting her hand on his belt. “I don’t want to.” She dipped a finger beneath his belt and the waist of his trousers and Severus grasped her arms with some degree of force, standing her up.

“I don’t want you to, either, but there is no sense in rushing things,” he said, standing up with some effort, “You will be missed,” he repeated, steering her toward the door.

“Fine,” Hermione said with a smile, “but if you’re going to kick me out, you owe me.”

When they made it to the door of the classroom, Severus pinned her to the door. The pleasant softness of her body was not something he was willing to part with just yet. He lowered his head and kissed her, and was surprised when she caught hold of his hips and brought his erection into contact with the soft curve of her belly. He gasped and pulled away from her.

“You need to leave,” he panted, “and if you are lucky, I will not ‘settle up’ the very next time I see you.”



A/N: I couldn't get there this chapter. I think we'll check in on Won-Won and Harry next, then we'll have lemons!