All You Had to Do Was Ask

This is my first attempt at a fan fic, please be gentle,



All You Had to do Was Ask
By:Snape_Goddess


Five years following the war, and the fall of the Dark Lord.

The great hall was bustling with activity as the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry began another year. They had gathered for the feast and sorting of the newest witches and wizards into their houses. Headmistress Minerva McGonagall stood on the raised platform that held the faculty table, her wand pressed to her throat.
“Attention!” She called, her voice amplifying as though over a loud speaker throughout the hall. She waited as the children settled, their voices going silent as they turned their attention to the front of the hall. “Welcome children, to another year at Hogwarts. For you first years, we will begin the sorting ceremony momentarily, but first, I have an announcement to make. Beginning this year, all seventh year students will be required to attend classes on Customs and Courtesies of the Wizarding world. Here you will learn proper manners and customs necessary to behave as proper wizards and witches in society.” She frowned and cleared her throat loudly as the seventh year students groaned. “If you are quite finished, I would like to introduce you to your new professor. She was a former student here at Hogwarts, graduating with the highest marks in school history, and a war heroine. Please welcome Ms. Hermione Granger.”

Hermione entered the great hall just as her name was called. She was late, she hated being late. She had run into some difficulty getting things set up in her new quarters. Seemed the house elves remembered her quite well and were afraid to assist, for fear that she might attempt to give them clothes. She looked out over the sea of black pointed hats and smiled, it was so good to be back at Hogwarts. She smiled, nodding her head slightly at Minerva. She was not only Hermione’s former professor, and current boss, but was also a dear friend.

She turned towards the faculty table and stopped. Her eyes widened when she saw him. She had heard that he had survived, though she had not believed it possible. He looked the same, stoic, sinister, and arrogant. His black hair fell to his shoulders, his impossibly black robes the same as she remembered from her years as a student, and a soldier in Dumbledore’s army. He was watching her with those cunning black eyes, and she felt a chill lift the hairs at her nape. As she moved slowly towards the empty chair beside him to take her seat, she could better see the scar that had wound across his throat showing above the high, stiff collar of his clothes.
When she came to a stop beside him, he stood, and to her great surprise, pulled her chair out and seated her. She paid little attention to the sorting ceremony as she stared at him. She had thought it impossible that he would survive the attack, that his wounds would have been curable. He had disappeared for over a year, no one knew where he had been, or how he had been saved. He had resurfaced at Hogwarts, resuming his position as Potions Master and professor.
“Ms. Granger, do I perhaps have something on my face?” He asked, not bothering to turn his head to look at her. He continued to stare straight ahead as he observed his newest Slytherin students.
“No, Professor.” She answered quietly.
“Then why are you staring at me so intently? I can practically feel your gaze burning into my flesh.” He hadn’t changed much in personality it seemed. He was still snarky, rude and rather harsh in his demeanor.
“I’m just very happy to see you, alive and well.” Hermione laid her hand atop of his where it lay between them on the table. “It’s good to see you again.” She told him.
“I’m sure you are simply being polite Ms. Granger.” He answered, withdrawing his hand from her touch. “Thank you for the sentiment, but I must say, seven years of being subjected to you and your little friends was quite enough, I cant say as I’m looking forward to more.” Hermione had to smile, she couldn’t be offended, she knew what he thought of her, and her friends. Insufferable little know it all, isn’t that how he had always referred to her? She had changed since the war. Without the stress of fighting the Dark Lord, and helping to save their world, she had mellowed, to some degree at least.

She still found her solace in the books that provided so much in the way of knowledge and entertainment, but she had learned to appreciate other aspects of life as well. She found that she had a true love of dancing, cooking, wine and music. She had learned forgiveness, even befriending the ferret in recent years. She had also learned about loneliness, the death of her parents leaving her without family. She of course still had Harry and Ginny, and Ron and the Weasley family. But she longed for a family of her own, for love and passion.
“It’s different now Professor, I’m no longer a child, no longer a student here. I am now a colleague and sadly, you will be subjected to me daily, as it seems my classrooms are to be near yours, and of course I will be sitting beside you at meal times.” She said with a smile.

He turned to look at her, a lock of hair falling forward into his eyes. She had changed, though not much. She wasn’t a tall woman, maybe five foot five or six at most. Her hair, though calmer than in her youth, was still the same dull shade of brown, the curls more frizzy than not with several curls escaping to frame her face, despite her attempts to keep it pulled tightly back into a long braid that draped over her shoulder. Her eyes were the color of a fine whiskey, something he had not noticed in her younger years, probably because she continually had he face hidden in the pages of one book or another. She wasn’t beautiful, only passably pretty.

She did not dress in the elaborate gowns favored by McGonagall, instead she dressed more in tune with Madame Hooch. She wore tight fitting, khaki riding breeches with black, heeled boots that reached her knees. Her white button down blouse was mostly hidden beneath velvet robes in a becoming shade of burgundy with a gold frog closure at the throat. Gryffindor colors. She was right though, she was no longer a child.

He could see her maturity, and the wisdom shining in her eyes. No doubt the war had aged her beyond her years, though when he thought about it, she had always seemed far older than she actually was. Her figure was definitely not that of a child. She was curvy, plump by some standards. From what he could see beneath the robes, she was well endowed, her breasts large and full, her waist curved in then flared out into round hips and thighs. She looked soft. What the hell Severus! Since when do you bother to notice anything about a woman? Women were trouble, plain and simple. He had had more than his share of trouble. He had no business noticing anything about her figure. Regardless of how enticing the little bundle of curves might appear, he knew for a fact that she was in possession of a mouth that could rip a body to shreds in seconds.
“Yes, well, be that as it may, I suppose the only bright side will be not having to deal with your constant questions in my class.” He drawled, returning his attention to his food.

Hermione wanted to laugh aloud, but suppressed the urge. It felt good to see him, to talk to him. He really wasn’t so bad, once you overlooked the snarky personality. He had been crucial in the defeat of the Dark Lord. He had given up so much to see the battle through to the end, and see the light win. A lesser man would have ended it all, instead of soldiering on. Maybe others saw nothing but an evil, snarky, arrogant dark wizard, but she saw the truth. Severus Snape was a man simply trying to live his life as best he can, albeit broken and weary. Maybe, just maybe they could be friends.

He was handsome, in an unconventional way, at least she had always thought so. At one point she had harbored a secret crush on her Potions Professor. At the time she had scolded herself for falling into the typical school girl cliché and chose to avoid thinking about it. But now, things were different, times were different. Maybe avoidance wasn’t the best option after all.


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Hermione shivered as she descended the stairs into the dungeons. She was following two fourth year Slytherins who had been raiding the kitchen. Halfway down she felt the stairs begin to shake and clutched the rail as the stairs swung free of the landing and shifted.
“Merlin, I hate these damned stairs.” She muttered as the came to an abrupt halt as they connected with another landing. “Now where the hell am I?” She asked aloud.
“Tut, Tut, Professor Granger, such language!” Hermione looked up at a portrait of Salazaar Slytherin and frowned. The man looked like a snake with his beady eyes and long, serpentine neck and pointy featured face.
“Oh, sod off.” She mumbled, causing the image in the portrait to chuckle. She descended the steps, wondering where in the world the two students had gone. The corridors of the dungeons were dark, damp and exceedingly cold. She shivered, pulling her robes tighter around her. She lifted her wand and whispered “Lumos.” Feeling relieved when the tip emitted a bright light and she could see more clearly.
“Oh holy hell!” She shouted as she came face to face with Professor Snape.
“Slumming in my dungeons Ms. Granger?” He asked, his arms crossed in a gesture so familiar it made her smile. She had been flirting with him for days, doing everything in her power to make him smile. She remembered earlier that afternoon when she had watched him walk into his Advanced Potions class and noticed the gift she had left him on his desk. Arranged in a tiny pewter cauldron were a half dozen perfect, fully bloomed black roses. Of course the little imp inside her head couldn’t resist tying a red and gold ribbon around the top of the cauldron, just to make certain he knew who they were from.
“Not at all Professor Snape, I was merely doing rounds and happened to follow two young Slytherins who were torturing the kitchen elves.” She said with a smile.
“I see, I assure you I have taken care of them. The dungeons are no place for a woman to be strolling about at night.”
“Oh? And why is that?” She asked. “I don’t see as how any harm can befall me….unless of course there is a Malfoy hiding about somewhere.” She said with a smile.
“There are many things that roam the dungeons at night Ms. Granger, and I assure you, compared to some of them, the Malfoys are harmless.”
“Oh, I’m big girl now Sir, I think I can handle it.” She said with a laugh. She moved past him, heading further into the darkness merely to spite him. “Nox.” Came the soft whisper behind her. She was suddenly entrapped in complete darkness. An arm came around her, quickly removing her wand from her grasp, and leaving her defenseless.
“Now, how do you plan to handle it Ms. Granger? You are now defenseless.” His deep sultry voice whispered at her ear. He’s toying with me, the git! Oh, this is going to be fun.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say defenseless.” She said softly as she turned around. Her eyes adjusted slightly to the darkness, and she could just make out his chest and shoulders in the shadows. With a boldness that both shocked, and empowered her, she reached out and laid her hands on his chest. “I think, that with a little misdirection…” She walked her fingers up the row of tiny buttons of his jacket to his throat, dipping her fingers under the collar to stroke the skin of his throat and the slightly stubbled skin on his jaw. She could feel the ridges of his scar and fought the urge to kiss the hurt, despite the fact that it had long ago healed. She could feel his heart pounding beneath her palm as she slid her hands over his shoulders and down his arms. “…I could probably find myself…” She pressed her chest into his, letting her warm breath drift across his neck as her hands slid over the tops of his, grasping her wand in her hand. “…well armed once again.” She said, placing the tip of her wand against his side before she stepped back.
“Well done Ms. Granger, I must say I am shocked you had it in you.” He drawled quietly from the shadows. His night vision was acute, and he could see her smiling.
“You have no idea.” She said as she stepped back slowly. “Goodnight…Severus.” She smiled brightly as she turned and walked away from him. He watched her, unable to look away. He could tell by the way her robes were moving that her hips were swaying as she walked.
He couldn’t resist muttering an incantation under his breath. He almost smiled when he saw the moment the spell hit her, smacking her on her round little ass. She stopped suddenly, turning her head slowly to look over her shoulder in shock. He was smirking at her, arms crossed over his chest, standing there like a sentinel.
“Saucy little witch.” He muttered before turning on his heal and stalking away, leaving her to stand there and wonder just how long Severus Snape had been hiding his rather naughty sense of humor.

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Professor Snape walked into his classroom, ignoring the cowering fourth years who stared at him in fear. He truly enjoyed being the equivelant to the muggle boogie-man where his students were concerned. Now that he was no longer needed to play spy for the Order, he had grown bored, taunting and scaring the students had become his new, favorite pastime.
“Turn to page four-hundred and seventy five.” He turned his back on the class to write ingredients on the blackboard when he heard the class giggling behind him. He turned quickly, glowering at the children, intent on taking house points for disrupting his class when he saw what was making them laugh. Dobby the house-elf was standing in the aisles, dressed like Cupid and holding a bow and arrow.
“Dobby, why are you disrupting my class?” Snape glared down at the tiny creature who now shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously.
“Um, Ms.Granger sent me, Professor sir, she tells Dobby to wear the costume and come see the Professor.” Snape crossed his arms, staring incredulously at the ridiculous looking Dobby.
“And did she have a message?” He asked. Dobby nodded his head as he nervously pointed at the professor’s robes.
“What the….?” He looked down to see a bright red arrow, blinking bright red and white with a little banner that read “Sweet Cheeks” hanging from it.
“Read the next ten pages, Dobby, watch my class!” He shouted, removing the arrow and tossing it to his desk. He stormed out of the classroom, his robes billowing behind him, uncaring of the students and the dumbfounded house-elf staring after him. He crossed the hall and forced open the doors to Hermione’s classroom.
“Oh! How wonderful to see you Professor Snape, you are just in time.” She said, smiling sweetly from the center of the room. The floor had been cleared, and the students sat on padded benches along the wall. He stopped and looked around at all the amazed faces watching him earnestly.

“What exactly am I just in time for?” He asked.
“Proper etiquette for a formal event, we are discussing what is and is not acceptable.” She turned to the class. “Since Professor Snape had decided to pay us a visit, we will demonstrate the acceptable way for a wizard to ask a witch to dance.” She turned to look at him, lifting one brow in challenge. The little minx thinks to embarrass me. She doesn’t think I know how to behave in polite society. He smirked, bowing his head to indicate that she should proceed. She smiled as she pointed her wand at the music box, tucking it into her robes as the music began to play.
“A wizard should always approach the witch slowly, demonstrating respect, and that he is no threat. He should greet her with a gesture of chivalry.”

She stood there, looking at him expectantly. He walked slowly across the room, stopped in front of her. Oh my god, he’s smiling at me, I think. Well, maybe it was just a slight variation on his normal smirk, but it had her heart racing none the less. He reached for her hand, bowing over it as he placed a kiss on her knuckles. She sucked in a deep breath when she felt the slight stroke of his tongue between her fingers. Merlin it’s a good thing all that hair of his covered his face, else her seventh years would be having a fit. He stood, her hand still clasped in his, and lifted his brows in answer to her challenge.
“Um, it is generally expected that the traditional ballroom dances will begin the dancing, the more modern and trendy music saved for informal functions.” The music box began to play a slow waltz.
“May I have the honor of the next dance Madame?” Snape asked, his obsidian eyes shining.
“As you wish, sir.” She said, dipping in a slight curtsy.
“Then I wish for different music.” He flicked his wand at the music box, the tune stuttering and drifting into a slow, steady beat, perfect for the tango. ‘There now, if you insist on trying to humiliate me in front of the older students, then we will dance the way I wish.” He pulled her into his arms, pressed tight against his chest. One hand slid around her waist to press against her back, the other took her hand in his, arm extended. He counted the beat slowly, then proceeded to lead her across the floor. Hermione was surprised, he was wonderful. He moved with a fluid grace, and easy agility that left her speechless. He twirled her expertly, their bodies in perfect sync as he pulled her close and their hips rolled together, then apart as they moved through the dance as though they had been partners for years. As the song closed, he grasped the back of her thigh, pulling it high over his hip as he lowered her into a dip.
“Oh my goodness!” McGonagall stood in the doorway, watching as the two Professors finished their demonstration. The class was clapping, and whistling, several of the boys giving Snape the thumbs up.
“Um, well, that was the tango. Next, we will learn the waltz.” Hermione said, her face flushed. “Please partner up.” She told them as she watched Professor Snape walk past the flustered Minerva as she stood there fanning herself with a bundle of parchment.
She went to stand next to her friend and mentor as she watched her students move through the steps of the standard waltz.
“What was that all about Hermione?” Minerva asked quietly.
“I didn’t think he could dance.” She answered, still not quite believing what had occurred.
“Oh, well, I think we can now officially confirm the opposite.” Minerva laughed.
“Makes me wonder though….” Hermione said, pursing her lips thoughtfully.
“About what?” Minerva asked, watching a particularly uncoordinated couple attempt the dance.
“If he shags as well as he dances.” Hermione laughed as she walked away from the sputtering McGonagall. Unaware that Severus was standing just outside the door, smirking as he overheard her parting comment.

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Hermione was pacing her office, waiting for dinner to be called. She couldn’t wait. She was truly loving the little game that she and Severus were now playing. He was enjoying it, though he would never admit to it. The problem was, that while the little cat and mouse antics were growing frustrating. It had started with her casting a spell on his cauldron so that when he looked into it, he saw himself as a clown. The next day she had left breakfast, unaware that he had slipped giggle potion into her orange juice. She had spent the rest of the day giggling like a first year Hufflepuff. So she enchanted his bathroom mirror so that his reflection would flirt outrageously with him when he looked into it. He had been furious to see himself winking, licking his lips and blowing kisses as he tried to shave.

The next morning she washed her hair, only to find that he had spelled the shampoo so that she walked around all day with green hair, streaked with silver. Her Slytherin students had snickered for a week after that. So, she decided to enchant his comb, in turn his straight, silky locks had curled and frizzed into a very interesting afro. It was childish, she knew it, but couldn’t help be amused that he was playing too. The night in the dungeons though, that had changed things, for her at least. Being that close to him, feeling his body heat, smelling the spicy scent that clung to him, it had changed things, made her alter her thinking where he was concerned. Of course, she still couldn’t believe he had basically smacked her ass.

Things had gone from playful, adolescent pranks, to a more deliberately enticing, slightly subtle flirtation. After the tango, her dreams had been haunted by erotic images of them together. The next morning she couldn’t help but blush when she sat beside him for breakfast. She could tell he was smirking as he watched her from the corner of his eye. When his leg bumped hers under the table she had yelped, hopping up from her seat and running from the hall. She could only imagine what he, and everyone else was thinking, probably that she was daft.

A soft pecking at her window stopped her pacing. She opened the window to find a silky black owl clutching a small envelope. She reached into a jar on her desk, giving the bird a treat as she took the message. It was from Draco.

Hermione,

How is my favorite little mudblood, just kidding, please don’t hex my balls! Going out tonight with Potty and the Weasel since carrot-top popped the question to Lavender. Thought you might want to go along, since you are their best friend. Owl me back.

Yours,
Draco Malfoy

PS I didn’t know you could tango 


She laughed, remembering that at one point she and the boys had hated Draco more than anything in the world. He was different now, the death of Lucius had freed him somehow, and he was actually very funny, very caring and sweet. She reached for a piece of parchment and quill to reply.

Dearest Draco,
You would have to have balls for me to hex first! I would love to go out with you guys tonight, I really need the break, and would love to see you all. Not to mention I’m dying to know how you found out about the tango incident. I’ll floo to the Burrow at nine, see you then.

Kisses,
Hermione

She handed the message to the owl, along with another treat and watched as it flew away, hoping it was smart enough to avoid the whomping willow, Merlin knows how many times the Weasley’s owl had been thumped for flying too close.


Hermione had decided to skip dinner in the hall, instead she concentrated on dressing for her night out with “her boys” as she tended to refer to the trio of male friends. She figured Ginny wouldn’t be going, seeing as she was eight months pregnant with she and Harry’s second child. She was wearing a short denim skirt, black knee high boots, and a snug black t-shirt. She had tamed her wild mane of hair somewhat, letting it hang loose down her back. At exactly nine o’clock she tossed a handful of floo powder into the fireplace, calling out “Burrow” before she stepped into the green flames and was deposited on the other end into the Weasley’s living room.
“Hello Mione!” Harry said, helping her from the floor. She hugged him tight, so happy to see him it almost brought tears to her eyes. “Hey, what’s that for?” He asked as he patted her back.
“I just miss you.” She told him as she stepped back.
“What about me?” Ron said, as he entered from the kitchen, a cupcake in his hand.
“You as well.” She hugged him, laughing when he protested as she scooped the icing from his treat.
“Hey, that’s mine!” He called as she danced away and into the open arms of her one time nemesis.
“Hello, love.” He kissed her cheek soundly. “So, you ready for a good time?” He asked.
“Please! Let’s go already!” She said with an over dramatic sigh. Harry kissed his wife goodbye, and Ron called into the kitchen to let Lavender know they were leaving. They stepped into the fireplace as Draco called out the name of a popular nightspot near Diagon Alley.

They exited into a rather loud, rather crowded nightclub, filled to the rafters with witches and wizards drinking, talking and dancing wildly.
“We’ll never get a table!” Harry shouted over the loud, pounding music.
“Of course we will, I have a private booth!” Draco led them to the edge of the club and through velvet ropes to the VIP section. When his friends looked at him in shock he simply shrugged and said “I’m a Malfoy, what did you expect.” They settled into the velvet covered seat and ordered drinks.
“Ill just have a butterbeer.” Harry told the serving-elf. Harry didn’t drink, it gave him nightmares.
“Stout for me mate!” Ron ordered.
“Scotch, finest you have.” Malfoy requested.
“Firewhiskey, double please.” All eyes turned to Hermione, the woman who never drank anything stronger than red wine. The little elf nodded and disappeared with a POP only to reappear with their drinks, spelling the glasses to refill as soon as they emptied.
“Ok, spill it.” Harry said, his green eyes staring at her intently.
“Spill what?” She asked, tossing back the drink with a cough, shaking her head as the drink burned her throat and settled into her stomach.
“Well first off you almost broke my rib with that hug earlier, now your tossing back firewhiskey when I have never seen you drink anything other than red wine.”
“Not to mention the fact that I hear you were doing the tango with Snape.” Draco put in, causing Harry and Ron’s jaws to drop.
“What?” Ron asked. “You were doing what with that git?”
“Dobby says they were doing the tango.” Draco said with a smile as he sat back in his seat, draping one arm along the back of the bench.
“Are we talking the tango….” Harry waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “or the tango.”
“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Ron scrunched up his face.
“He was assisting in a demonstration for my class.” She said, tossing back another glass. “Why in the bloody hell would you ask him?” Ron asked.
“I didn’t, he stormed in and I thought I would embarrass him, turns out he’s quite a good dancer.” She said.
“I could have told you that, he use to dance with my Mum all the time, Lucius couldn’t be bothered to dance with her when they went places.” Draco said, sneering at the mention of his father.
“Why would he be storming into your class?” Harry asked. Watching Hermione down her third glass in less than twenty minutes.
“I dressed Dobby like cupid and had him shoot Snape with an arrow.” She said, staring into her glass.
“Bloody hell!” Ron slapped the table, laughing hysterically.
“No! Did you really?” Draco asked, leaning forward.
“Why would you do that Mione?” Harry was smiling, he wanted to laugh, but was more curious about Hermione’s unusual behavior.
“He smacked my ass.” She said on a sigh. Three pairs of eyes were staring at her over open mouths.
“Snape?”
“Professor Snape?”
“The greasy git?”
“Don’t call him that Ronald Weasley!” Hermione growled over the table.
“Okay, you need to tell us what the hell is going on Hermione, start from the beginning.” Draco said, wondering as she swallowed back another glass if he should take it from her. With a resigned sigh, she slumped into her seat and told them about the events of the last couple of months.
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It was almost three in the morning when Ron, Harry and Draco half carried, half dragged the drunk Hermione into the fireplace. Ron tossed in a handful of floo powder and Draco called out “Hogwart’s Dungeons”.
“Why the hell did you bring us down here?” Harry asked as they stumbled from the fireplace inside one of the dungeon classrooms.
“Habit.” Draco said, shrugging.
“Oh, are we at another club?” Hermione slurred, her head lifting to look around for other partiers.
“No, Hermione, we are at Hogwarts, where are your quarters?” Harry asked, grabbing her arm before she fell again.
“Oh no you don’t Harry Potter! You are going no where near my rooms, you my darling boy are a married man, and absolutely can not get into my knickers!” She said waggling her finger back and forth.
“Hermione!” Harry was turning red, as Draco and Ron laughed. Draco put his arm around her waist, trying to hold her up.
“Come on, love, stand up now.” He told her. She tossed her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his silky blonde hair.
“You, if you hadn’t been so mean to me, you could have been in my knickers seventh year.” She smacked a quick kiss on his lips. “But you ruined it ferret boy.” She began laughing hysterically as she twirled out of their grasp and started singing and swinging her hips.
“Did she just say she would have shagged Malfoy?” Ron asked, falling into a seat behind one of the student desks.
“Yeah, weaselby, I wish I’d known.” He smirked.
“I’m gonna be sick.” Ron said, resting his head on his arms.
“Okay tiny dancer, we really need to get you upstairs.” Draco said as he and Harry took hold of her again. She put her arms around Harry, laying her head on his shoulder.
“Dance with me Harry. No one loves me.” She pouted. Harry rolled his eyes at Draco and patted her back.
“We love you Mione, Ginny and the Weasleys love you, Minerva loves you.” She pulled back, looking at him in her drunken stupor.
“Would you shag me if you weren’t married?” She asked with all the seriousness her drunken state would allow.
“Mione, come on, your like a sister to me.” He said gently, not wanting to hurt her feelings. She turned to ask Ron, but he was passed out on the desk. Draco was laughing.
“If you’d asked me five years ago, sure, now I know you too well, sorry love.” He told her as he pulled one arm over his shoulder while Harry did the same with the other arm, She stumbled between them as they tried to walk across the room.
The doors suddenly slammed open, and a bright light filled the empty and darkened classroom.
“What the hell is the meaning of this?” Professor Snape yelled as walked into the room. He was wearing a black satin bed robe with the silver and green Slytherin coat of arms on the breast pocket, silky black pajama pants and leather slippers on his feet. He kicked Ron’s chair as he passed by, causing the red head to yelp in fear, immediately regressing to his childhood as Snape’s student.
“Sorry sir, I was paying attention!” Draco started laughing again, almost dropping Hermione in the process.
“Hello Uncle Sev, what brings you here at this time of night?” Draco asked trying to keep a straight face.
“I heard all the bloody racket you lot were making and came to see what the hell was going on!” He looked at Hermione who was eyeing him in a manner that was less than proper. She looked up, licking her lips and pulling the bottom one between her teeth.
“I wish I could get him to shag me.” She muttered. Draco was howling with laughter while Harry struggled to keep her on her feet. Ron was muttering about being scarred for life.
“Oh for Merlin’s sake, she’s completely pissed!” Snape said, obviously shocked. “What the hell do you three think your doing letting her get like this?” He asked.
“Um, we told her to stop after four, sir, she just didn’t listen.” Harry mumbled. His former professor still intimidated him, even after so many years away from school.
“She needed to unwind, to relax. She was pretty wound up.” Draco was trying to blow Hermione’s hair from his face where she had her head on his shoulder.
“I need a good shag, but no one wants me.” She pouted.
“What the hell is she wearing?” He asked, pointing at her t-shirt. The plain black cotton had been charmed to alternate between Property of the Half Blood Prince and Snape’s Bytch spelled out in glowing green writing.
“Oh! Isn’t it great!” She squealed excitedly. “I want to get one of them tattooed on my ass, but couldn’t decide between them.” She slid her arms from Draco and Harry’s shoulders and slowly stalked forward, swaying her hips as she walked, leaving Draco and Harry bug eyed as they watched. “What do you think, Sevie?” She cooed, grasping the sash of his robe and tugging it free, allowing his robe to open. Her eyes widened when she saw his chest. “Oh my!” She reached out to touch him. “I always assumed you would be smooth, and pale, cold to the touch, like a vampire.” She traced the dark swirling hair around his navel up to the dark curls smattered across his chest. She threaded her fingers through the soft tendrils and tugged gently. “But you’re hot, and fuzzy, but not too fuzzy, and you’re more muscular than I thought.” She said as she slid her hands over his pectorals. She shocked him, and her friends, when she leaned forward and licked one flat male nipple, causing him to suck in his breath.
“Oh, shit, time for us to go!” Draco was trying not to laugh at his godfather as he shoved Ron and Harry into the fireplace and shouted for the Burrow.
“Cowards!” Snape called after him as he looked down at the intoxicated woman kissing his chest.
“Okay, Ms. Granger, you need to stop, let me take you to your room.” He said, trying to push her away. She slid her hands up, locking her fingers together behind his neck as she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He was barely able to stop them from falling backwards as he stumbled from her weight. She was sucking on the side of his neck, her arms and legs locked tight around him. He groaned, ashamed of the way his cock was responding to her, knowing he shouldn’t be getting aroused. He needed to get her to her rooms, without anyone seeing them, and put her to bed s she could sleep it off.
“Stop, Ms…Hermione.” She stopped her assault on his neck, pulling back to look into his eyes. “You called me Hermione.” She said, her voice hushed and slightly slurred.
“That is your name, given that you have essentially molested me this evening, I figure we could be on a first name basis. She giggled, a very un-Hermione like gesture and wiggled her hips against him.
“I think you like being molested.” She whispered against his ear.
“You need to let me go.” He said. His hands were under her thighs, trying to support her so she didn’t pull him over. He didn’t want to think about how soft they felt to his touch.
“No.” She said stubbornly, tightening her grip. “I want you to take me to your rooms.” She bit down on his earlobe, and he hissed. “Ooooo, how very Slytherin of you!” She cooed. “Do you have shackles on your bed?” She asked as she leaned back to look at him again.
“No!” Where in the hell had she gotten that idea? She frowned and gave an exasperated half moan half sigh.
“But your suppose to carry me off to the dungeons, shackle me to your bed atop black satin sheets, and ravish me!” She sounded rather petulant, and he was starting to become amused….and aroused.
“I’m flattered you’ve thought about it.” He said, finally getting her to unlock her ankles so he could set her back on the floor.
“Oh, I’ve thought about it.” She said, shaking her head back and forth. “Day, night, middle of the afternoon. God I don’t think I have ever masturbated as much in my life as I have since I came back here.” She admitted, the firewhiskey made her bold. “What’s your reason?” She asked him, a resigned and disappointed look crossing her face.
“My reason for what?” He was weary, horny, and confused.
“Harry said I’m too much like a sister, Draco says he knows me too well now, and Ron is an idiot, so what about you? What’s your reason for not shagging me?” She asked.
“Oh sod it.” He muttered, running his hand through his hair. “For one, your bloody pissed, and I don’t go around bedding women who wont even remember who I am in the morning.” He sighed, frustrated.
“If I wasn’t drunk?” She asked. His face changed, his eyes darkened, his mouth softened.
“If you weren’t drunk, I’d have had you twice already.” He said. He didn’t get a chance to see a reaction as he barely caught the little witch before she hit the floor, passed out cold.

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


Turned out it was impossible to get her back to her room in her current state. She was dead weight in his arms as he lifted her against his chest and walked down the hall towards his living quarters. Unfortunately for him, the racket had not only disturbed the portraits, who were already gossiping about why Professor Snape was carrying Professor Granger through the dungeons at night wearing his night clothes. To make matters worse Peeves was following close behind him.
“Are you going to torture her?” he inquired.
“No.”
“Did you Avada her?”
“No.”
“Did you seduce her? Can I watch?”
“No, and no. Go away Peeves.” Severus opened the doors to his rooms and reset the wards. He carried Hermione over to his sofa and laid her down. He pointed his wand at the logs in the grate and lit the fire, tucking it back into the pocket of his robe. He looked down at the woman laying on his sofa, snoring softly. He shook his head as he watched her shirt alternate between the two crazy phrases and reached down to remove her boots. He smiled when he saw the red socks decorated in tiny gold snitches. He reached for his wand and transfigured them into green socks with tiny silver serpents in them. He leaned his head back against the couch, his hands resting on her legs where they draped across his thighs. It was almost five. He had to be up at seven to see the students off for the Christmas hols. With a sigh, he slipped off to sleep.


Severus frowned at the pounding in his head as he shifted against the soft leather of the sofa. He groaned as he felt his back protest, aching and stiff. The pounding started again, and he realized it wasn’t his head, someone was at the bloody door. He sat up, not realizing until it was too late that Hermione had been draped over him as he slept.
“Ouch.” She rubbed her bottom where she hit the stone floor, then reached up to clasp her head in pain. “Owwww.” She groaned, climbing slowly back onto the sofa as he went to open the door.
“What?” He yelled, flinging open the door. McGonagall and Filch stood there, slack jawed, staring at him. He was still in his sleep pants and slippers, his robe open, revealing the scar on one side of his neck, a deep purple love bite on the other.
“Well well well, haven’t we been a naughty professor.” Filch drawled, looking past Severus to Hermione sitting on the sofa trying to pull her boots back on.
“Piss off, Filch.” Severus spat.
“What in the world?” Minerva asked, her hand fluttering to rest on her chest.
“She floo’d into the dungeons with Weasley, Potter and Malfoy, completely pissed. I brought her here to sleep it off.” He explained.
‘Oh, and she was nibbling your neck because….?” Minerva asked, a rather unsettling smile on her face. Filch was snickering behind her.
“Like I said , she was completely pissed.” He heard Hermione yelp behind him, and turned to see her staring at her transfigured socks. “I take it we missed the send off?” He ran his hand through his hair.
“Yes, I was worried sick when I couldn’t find you, and then Peeves said you were torturing a woman in your dungeon….”
“Bloody ghost, if he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him.” Severus reached down and retied the sash on his robe. “As you can see Minerva, all is well. I am going to get Ms. Granger a hangover potion and send her on her merry way. I suppose you’ll see us at lunch.” With that he closed the door. He went to his cupboard and withdrew a small vile. He pulled the stopper and handed it to her.
“Here, it will make you feel better.” He said, taking a seat beside her.
Hermione cringed as she drank the bitter concoction, but instantly began to feel better. She turned around, pulling one leg up onto the sofa and looked at him.
“Did we?” She asked.
“Did we what?” He grunted, his eyes closed.
“You know…” He opened one eye.
“Did we have sex?” He said for her.
“Yes, did we?” She was chewing on her bottom lip again.
“No. Not for lack of trying on your part however.” He told her, smirking a the chagrined look on her face.
“Was I that bad?” She asked, afraid of the answer.
“Oh, well let’s see, your propositioned Potter, Malfoy, only skipping Weasley because he was passed out. Then you attempted to undress, and to use your words “shag” me in front of your friends, who ran away like the little cowards they are.” He gestured to her shirt. “Then there is that.” Hermione looked down, watching the writing transfigure from one phrase to the next in neon green.
“Oh bloody hell.” She stood quickly, gasping when she saw the hickey on his neck. “Did I do that?” She asked, appalled.
“Yes.” He answered simply. She turned abruptly and fled the dungeons. Severus reclined on his sofa, laughing softly. She had definitely eased his boredom.

Hermione didn’t come to the hall for lunch, or dinner. Nor did he see her Christmas morning for breakfast. He was sitting in his office, grading the first term finals, wondering how magical children could be such bloody idiots. He looked up when she entered, knocking softly as she pushed the heavy door open.
“Severus?” She called, peeking around the edge of the door.
“Yes?” He set his quill and the papers aside, leaning back in the large, leather desk chair.
“I want to apologize, for the other night.” She propped her hip against his desk as she talked to him. She looked lovely in her long black skirt and red cashmere turtleneck.
“Not necessary, though I am curious as to why you opted to get piss drunk in the first place.” He asked, folding his hands over his stomach as he leaned back in the chair. He was wearing his trousers and coat, forgoing the robes as no students were left behind this year for him to terrorize.
“Oh, well…”
“The truth Ms. Granger. I have a fresh batch of veritaserum, if you think it would be easier.” His arrogant posture was starting to annoy her.
“We went out to celebrate, Ron proposed to Lavender Brown, finally.” She muttered something under her breath.
“What’s that?” He cocked his head, eyebrows lifted.
“I said, its not as though its any of your bloody business why I got plastered.” She looked up. Gone was the soft, apologetic fluff that had first entered. In its place was the fire breathing spitfire he had hoped to see.
“Oh, I say it is my business when you are begging for a quicky in an empty classroom.”
“Well, I didn’t ask you first did I, only as a last resort.” She was glaring, her teeth were grinding together so hard it was almost painful.
“I wouldn’t bait the dragon if I were you princess, you might get eaten.” He snarled, rising to his feet.
“I am not afraid of you Severus Snape!” She yelled.
“I’m warning you, don’t test me Hermione, I wont hesitate to turn you over my knee and smack your sweet little ass until it glows!” They were nose to nose.
“You wouldn’t dare.” She growled.
Severus didn’t think twice. He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her, bending her over his desk. He used one forearm to hold her down, pinned to the desk. With the other he lifted the back of her skirt, smiling when he saw the green satin knickers stretched across her round little ass.
“You bloody bastard!” She screamed, struggling against him. He laughed, bringing his hand down hard on one cheek, then the other. “Fucking arsehole!” he swatted again, loving the way the round globes reddened and heated beneath his hand. After a couple more well places swats, he dropped her skirt and released her.
“Now, little girl, remember what happens to little witches who taunt dark wizards.” He spat. She slapped him, hard, the loud clap rebounding off the walls. Her eyes widened as she realized what she had done. She saw the look on his face change and she was suddenly afraid. She did the only thing she could think of in that moment, she ran.
She didn’t stop running, tossing a handful of powder into the fireplace and calling out to the Burrow. She was still running as she found herself in the Weasley’s living room.
“Help!” She cried just as Severus bounded into the room after her.
“Oh, you little…” He stalked after her, completely ignoring the house filled with Weasley’s, Potter, Draco and Narcissa Malfoy. Hermione ran to the dining room, if you could call it that. She was at one end of the table, Severus at the other. She had nowhere to go, he would catch her either way.
“What is going on?” Molly Weasley demanded, hands on her hips as she stood beside the table looking from one to the other.
“She slapped me.” Severus spat.
“You spanked me!” Hermione cried.
“You loved it and you know it.” He taunted.
“How dare you imply….” She straightened her shoulders, her nose in the air.
“How dare I? Just three nights ago you wanted my name tattooed on your ass!” He shouted. Ginny clapped her hands over her little son’s ears. Harry, Ron and Draco started laughing, remembering the night in question.
“I was drunk!”
“Didn’t stop you from attacking me did it?”
“I did not!”
“Oh really? Well how did I come by this?” He pulled at his collar, sending buttons pinging across the table as he revealed the hickey on his neck. “I assure you, this is not a war wound.” The increasing laughter from the living room wasn’t helping.
“I don’t know how I ever could have thought I loved you.” She spat. Severus stopped suddenly, his head tilting to the side as he watched a single tear slide across her cheek.
“Love me?”
“Yes, you arrogant ass, I love you. I went with the boys, and got pissed because I was frustrated, and didn’t know what to do about it. I wanted to be your friend, not that you deserve it, instead I end up falling for you, you miserable bastard.” She sniffed, reaching for a napkin from the table to wipe her face and blow her nose.
To everyone’s amazement, he pointed his wand at Hermione, muttered a spell that brought her to him. He wrapped her in his arms, sliding one hand into her hair, and lowered his lips to hers. He hadn’t actually intended that their first kiss be witnessed by dozens of people, but hey, what the hell. He kissed her for all he was worth, his tongue slipping into her mouth to taste and explore.
“I’m going to be sick.” Ron moaned. Severus pulled away, looked around at all the amazed faces, then down at Hermione.
“Happy Christmas.” He said, pulling Hermione along behind him as he floo’d them back to his rooms at Hogwart’s.
“Happy Christmas.” Arthur Weasley replied as though it was every day crazed wizards came chasing through his fireplace.


Severus didn’t hesitate, the moment he had her in his quarters, he lifted her into his arms and carried her into his room. Hermione looked around, amazed at the beautiful ebony furniture, the four poster bed draped in silver and green dominating the room.
“Say it again.” He whispered against her lips, forcing her attention back to him.
“I love you.” She whispered, kissing him back. He nipped and sucked at her lower lip, his tongue sliding over it, easing the small hurt. He used his wand to toss the comforter to the floor, laying her down on soft, satin sheets. He stood over her, looking down at her. He was too impatient to go slow, with a quick flick of his wand, they were both divested of their clothing, and he tossed the wand to the floor.
“My god woman, you look like a goddess.” He reached out with one hand to tweak a hardening nipple, causing her to moan and arch her back.
“Severus…” She let her gaze wander over his lean, muscled body, amazed that a man his age could still look so damn good. Her eyes widened when she reached his penis. He was long, thick and so hard she swore she could see his pulse pumping through the bulging, vein covered length of him.
“Put your feet on the edge of the bed, let your legs fall open so I can look at you.” She didn’t hesitate to follow his instructions, blushing only for a moment when she let her legs fall to the sides, opening herself to his gaze. She wasn’t completely shaved, he liked that. She still had a small triangle of hair covering the top of her mound marking her as a woman, and no longer a child. “Merlin, your pretty here.” He breathed, tracing the swollen lips with his index finger. She was writhing beneath his touch, and he could see the evidence of her desire as her folds grew slick. He used his other hand to part the plump folds, revealing the tight, swollen bud of her clit hidden within. He knelt on the floor, leaning between her thighs to stroke her with the flat, rough bed of is tongue from her wet, hot opening, to the tight little nubbin begging for attention. He used the tip of his tongue to trace around the little bud, then flick across it rapidly, before sucking it between his lips.
“Oh fuck….Severus…..please, Oh please!” Her fingers were tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, holding him against her as he licked and sucked at her hot, wet sex. He slid one finger inside her, then another, flexing them in a come hither motion that had her screaming and digging her nails into his scalp. She screamed when she came, calling his name over and over again as the walls of her pussy clamped tight on his fingers, her hands pulling so hard on his hair he feared he would have bald spots by the time she was done.
He stood, lifting her by her hips and shifting her back and into the middle of the bed before crawling up and between her thighs. He reached for a pillow and tucked it under her bottom, angling her the way he desired. He was on his knees, sitting on his heels between her splayed thighs. She was limp, completely spent as she looked up at him, her eyes glassy, eagerly waiting for him to take her fully. He rubbed the swollen, purple head of his cock over her soaking wet folds, grazing her over sensitizes clit, eliciting a sharp gasp. He eased the head inside her, loving how tight she was. He eased in further, groaning when he felt her muscles flutter around him.
“Merlin, your tight….like a fucking fist.” He groaned through clenched teeth. He pulled back, almost all the way out of her, then thrust forward hard, burying himself so deep inside her he didn’t think he would ever be free. He lifted her thighs, encouraging her to wrap her legs tightly around his waist as he plunged into her time and time again. The bed was shaking, the satin sheets pulling free of the feather mattress as he fucked her, harder and faster, her nails scoring his back as she came a second time. Her cunt squeezing hard, clamping down on him so tight it bordered on pain. He couldn’t hold back, with a triumphant shout, he poured himself into her. Cumming in hot, torrential spurts that left him weak, and exhausted.
He tried to roll off of her, knowing he was too heavy, but she wouldn’t release him, her arms and legs holding him tight as he began to soften inside her. She sighed, sounding so content he had to smile.
“You alright?” he asked, his head nestled on her breasts.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry I spanked you.” He said.
“No your not.” She laughed.
“No, I’m not.”
“It was worth it, to finally get you in bed.” She told him as she stroked her hand through his hair.
“What do you mean finally?” He asked, frowning.
“I tried being sweet, tried being playful, hell I even set out to humiliate you, got completely plastered and threw myself at you. I figure what the hell do I have to lose, maybe if I pissed you off, it would get your juices flowing.” She laughed softly.
“Hermione?”
“Yes my love.” She asked, her eyes closing, drifting slowly towards sleep.
“You could have just asked.”


A/N: I do actually own a t-shirt that says PROPERTY OF THE HALF BLOOD PRINCE, and another that says SNAPES BYTCH


Okay, so thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews, you guys rock!

The shirts....I got those at Cafepress.com, back last year when I was pregnant (with #3) I wore a maternity shirt from the same web site, it had a little cauldron on it that said Brewed by the Half Blood Prince.....my husband hated it LOL he will never understand my fascination with Alan Rickman.....