Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and core personality traits are the property of J.K. I own nothing, nor do I plan on profiting from using her work. No copyright infringement is intended.

PWP? with a more plot than I meant to have…

This is only going to be a few chapters, 3-5 tops.

No Beta for this. Have mercy.

Alternative Payment Plan

A timid throat cleared meekly from the entrance of the room. Even such a small sound was more than enough to provoke the dark wizard's ire, a well advertised fact, so it went without saying that the interruption was unavoidable and had probably taken several moments of built courage before its attempt.

The potion's master made an exaggerated show of stopping all activity before sneering at the trembling young offender.

"Yes?" he barked dangerously but received only a wide-eyed stare, "For some unfathomable reason you thought it prudent to disturb me during a brewing session. I suppose now would be the appropriate time to provide me with a reason to allow you to keep your job…"

As positively gleeful as Severus Snape was to be free of that cesspool of mediocrity wizarding Britain called a school, there was something about palatable adolescent fear that he would sorely miss should he free himself of it all together. This, and their willingness to work for knuts on the adult galleon was as good a motivator as any to employ them at his Apothecary.

The man-child, who's name he was sure started with a 'T', looked for all the world like he'd rather lose his position than stay in the room with the terrifying wizard second longer.

He twisted at the strings of his black smock, red faced. "I-I'm sorry, Sir. Truly. But there's a woman here to see you… She says it's urgent."

Severus didn't allow his sullen face to betray his curiosity, not over of the unexpected visitor—there was always one dunderhead or another hell bent on the defilement of his long-earned peace—but that the woman in question had to have been either Albus-like manipulative or more petrifying than the vanquished Dark Lord to have talked the boy into summoning him.

"Does she have an appointment?" he asked as if he didn't already know. As he had never before accepted an invitation to such a meeting, the odds were unlikely.

T-something gazed down at his shifting feet, "Well, no, Sir. But she was adamant that she speak with you."

The once-Death Eater felt his neck grow warm, his nearly black eyes burring holes into the poor shelf stocker. "If you are not out of my sight and excusing the pushy chit from my establishment in thirty seconds, I will do far worse than just fire you."

To his unending astonishment, the boy didn't move. For a moment, Severus considered that the fumes from his newest trial brew may exhibit hallucinogenic properties.

"I-I'm sorry, Master Snape, but the lady drew her wand on me when I tried to turn her away," he squirmed nervously, teetering on the door frame as though he were unsure which direction held the most likelihood of bodily harm, "If you don't want to see her, I'd like to request use of the floo in your office to call the authorities."

That sufficiently peaked the hard wizard's interest. He'd show that little cow what happened to witches that attempted to throw their weight around in his place of business. Probably another reporter…

"What did she say her name was?" He grabbed a nearby rag to wipe his long fingers clean of the fresh rabbit liver he'd been slicing.

"She wouldn't tell me, Sir. In fact, she very intentionally omitted it."

Someone who knew he would refuse an audience with, Snape growled. That hardly narrowed the list, he loathed half of the wizarding world and had made that crystal clear since he'd survived the war by the skin of his crooked teeth.

"Well," he hissed, "What does she look like, you dolt?"

He watched with incredulity as the young man blushed, so clearly not from the embarrassment of being insulted, "Honestly, Sir? She's beautiful. The most beautiful witch I think I-"

"Oh for, fuck's sake," Snape threw the soiled towel on the boy's starry-eyed face and pushed him out of the way to walk into the front supply room. "Make yourself useful and put a stasis spell on my work. If anything spoils, its coming out of your wages."

"You really shouldn't yell at him like that," a prim, hauntingly familiar voice trilled from directly behind him, "Such a nice kid."

Interestingly enough, if it weren't for that horrid voice—that self-satisfied pitch of book-worm he'd had thrust, unsolicited, upon him every time he asked a question during the last six years of his torturous teaching career—the potions master would have been hard pressed to recognize the witch leaning across the counter of his shop like she owned the place.

Had he not heard it, all he would have seen was a breathtaking creature with huge golden eyes and legs for miles… long, silken waves of hair and a waist he could probably wrap his hands all the way around, a stark contrast to the huge breasts she had bouncing around up top. Even a man who sought out sexual gratification less often than the seasons changed could appreciate a female built like that.

But that fucking voice.

The Granger chit. The brains and balls of The Golden Trio and one of several people Severus Snape would rather Kedavra himself than be in the company of ever again. If it hadn't been enough having to protect their careless arses for years of his wasted existence, they had been seemly unavoidable after the completion of his coerced mission.

They were the saviors, the light… the personification of all that was good and the most profound reason Severus regretted pulling his bloody body off of the floor of the shrieking shack and appariting himself to Saint Mungo's to go on living in a world that worshiped whelps like them.

He probably would have known that Granger had grown into a sodding super model if he hadn't canceled his subscription to The Daily Prophet. But after the Death Eater trials, including his own, naturally, the paper had turned into The Daily Chronicles of the Golden Trio and he couldn't stomach the sight of one more picture of the pauper and the bookworm sucking face in various locations.

His annoyance was tangible, there was no stopping that, but he refused to allow her to see how deeply she affected him. He sneered down his large nose at her for the first time in five long years.

"Of course," Snape drawled lazily, "A pushy, insistence witch with the audacity to come into my domain and draw her wand in threat," he listed tersely, "Had he not mentioned beauty, I may have guessed. I should have known he was speaking with the adolescent propensity to get wood for anything with a set of breasts."

Unlike her two henchmen, who would no doubt be lifting their wands with hot-blooded indignation and the misconception that they could possibly best him in any form of hex play, the stunning witch looked entirely unaffected.

Ever the quick minded assessor, something that even years of post-war life would never take from him, he noticed easily the tired set of the witch's eyes, the way her now carefully controlled locks sat askew in areas that likely meant she'd been running her fingers through them anxiously. She hid it well of course; easy, halo-like glow, poise and sophistication of a very young but extremely intelligent female.

But he knew.

This was no carefree war heroine basking in the rays of international glory, come to poke fun of her old, reclusive tormentor.

"It's good to see you too, Professor," she tapped her wand casually against the counter, cool as a house cat, "You're looking well."

His jaw clenched with restraint. Severus looked nearly exactly the same as when the little tart and her friends had dubbed him the 'greasy dungeon bat', say for the grotesque scars around his neck left by the Dark Lord's only love; longish oil slick hair, hook nose and deathly pale skin. He even kept his signature black robes. The dark wizard felt no need to change his persona over the years, only the individuals he associated with; a decidedly small, purely necessary group of people.

"See here, Miss Granger- or perhaps its Mrs. Weasley now," he didn't care, couldn't be bothered even pretending.

"Grange. Divorced," she wiggled a naked left hand at him.

"Terribly unfortunate," the older man hissed, "But I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. If it is business you have come here to discuss, there are a great number of other reputable Apothecaries that would be quiet capable of helping you," his tone grew impossibly dark, "But understand this, you pompous little brat… I am a busy man and will never make concessions for you, no matter how many times you've posed half nude on the cover of Witch Weekly or how grand your cult following—if you bother me again I will deal with you the way I was never permitted when you were just a bucktooth, book regurgitater."

This time, he was unsurprised when the object of his scorn held her ground. Obedience towards him was a part of her make-up conveniently left out when the girl's thirst for the approval of authority was developed. Not even time would change that.

Snape sighed and pulled his wand, as if hexing her out the door wouldn't be the highlight of his year, but was stunned— as much as he was capable of such surprise—when Granger calmly placed he tip of her own vine-wood tool against the flesh of over her heart, symbolically, the muggle equivalent of holding a loaded gun to one's temple.

"If you don't help me, you'll have taken away my only reason to live and I see no use to continue on after this chance is exhausted," she explained carefully, bright eyes wild.

He thought it positively the most idiotic move in the history of strategy. The man leaned his sinewy, long frame against the wall in back of him with the inner stirrings of something a kin to delight.

"I could scarcely think of anything that would bring me more joy, Miss Granger."

The muscles of her shoulders tighten rigidly, the shock of someone that has misread the character of their opponent. Severus Snape was not a kind man. His honor had driven him to do things that happened to result in movement against the Dark Lord but if it had been Albus or the Order that had so deeply wronged him, his wrath against the Light would have been equal in its intensity.

His baritone chuckle met a flash of dismay that crossed her delicate features. "You have spent too long surrounded by people that care whether or not you take in your next breath, princess. I suggest you return to them, as you will find no such sympathies here."

She lifted her little chin in defiance but held strong and tried another method of argument, "Ginny Potter knows I've come here. She'll send someone when I don't return and if I die in your shop, professor, you will be in the center of a media storm that would rival that at the end of the war."

This was more up to par with her level of cunning, in his opinion. The little bitch that snuck passed his wards and stole from his potion stores a scant two years into her magical education.

The jaded wizard had gone through great lengths to separate himself from his past life, even cooling the sensation that tried to brand him as a hero—thanks to Potter's testimony at his trial—by hexing the pants off any journalist that dare sully his property. He'd built his thriving, order-in Apothecary business in such a way that required very little customer-owner interaction and had lived a primarily solitary existence.

He let out a string of profanities that had Hermione's cheeks pink with scandal as he stormed across the space and into his office. Only the open door gave her any indication of invitation but she eagerly accepted the chance and scrambled in after him.

He was already seated and took great offence to her roaming eyes as they took liberties in his space.

"Nice office. Decided to lose the pickled creatures, I see," the woman commented lightly, as if she were nothing more than an old friend.

"I don't take kindly to threats, Granger."

She gazed at him tiredly and lowered herself into a chair on the opposite side of the grand desk. Even through his red haze of distain an errant thought still acknowledged her nearly fluorescent beauty as a foreign fixture in the masculine space.

"And I don't take kindly to people who make them, Sir," she clipped, "But I'm afraid I have found myself in a position where I am far passed my usual code of conduct."

He flipped his hand in as sweeping 'indulge me' motion. "Still with the Gryffindor dramatics. Did your dear husband leave you with a particularly pesky venereal disease? Because I can assure you there are more discreet ways to seek treatment…"

Instead of engaging him as he expected, she dropped her gaze into her lap, an altogether defeated posture, "Please, Sir…"

"You have five minutes, wench. Stop pouting and begin talking or I don't care how much media attention it gets me, I'll end you myself."

The Gryffindor Princess jumped immediately into action, pulling her wand and conjuring a fat stack of medical files and journals. Severus had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes and wondered if the girl could restrict an explanation to five minutes if her life depended on it.

"Acute Infant Serpentine Pneumonia," she searched his face closely, "Are you familiar with the condition, Professor?"

He had to fight harder than was really reasonable to keep a neutral expression. Severus suddenly knew exactly what had the little witch acting so erratically. He should have realized; the odd behavior and out of character threats were so clearly maternal. A desperate mother hen.

That body though… that didn't look like it belonged to a female who had recently pushed out a Weasley pup.

He was going to kill Draco. Kill.

The raven-haired wizard managed to keep his revelation off his face and sneered indignantly, "Of course I am, it's been a rather unavoidable topic. A fatal condition derived from a reptilian virus that affects mainly the newborns of pureblood parents. Discovered three years after the end of the war, it was thought to be developed and intentionally released by Muggle-born extremist to punish Death Eater families that they believe didn't receive harsh enough punishment for their war crimes. Marked initially by rash-like spots and eventual respiratory failure," he recited with disinterest, "Tragic."

The woman's lovely gaze turned ice cold at his unemotional response.

"Ron's blood was enough to make us susceptible. My son's developed the first stages."

Severus enjoyed being right. He also knew he no intentions of giving Granger what she'd come for. He sat back in his chair as a dismissal. "I'm very sorry. I recommend you take it to Saint Mungo's immediately."

The woman's shriek was jarring, even though he was expecting the reaction.

She tossed the thickest file across the desk, sending the contents spilling out before him. "I already took him to Saint Mungo's! I took my baby to every healer I could find and all they gave him was pity," the vexed mother whimpered, "They sent us home with hospice forms on how to report it when he finally…when he's finally…"

And with that, she dissolved into a mess of hard sobs in the middle of Snape's beloved office, turning from brave and determined to afraid and broken in ten seconds flat.

"For God's sake, he's not even four months old. I can't just wait for him to die!"

Severus watched on with neither ridicule nor a great deal of concern. Unlike most men, female tears did not make him the least bit uncomfortable. He had been the Dark Lord's double-crossing right hand for a great deal of his life. There was no putting a number on the amount of mothers he had seen cry and beg for the life of their child—most, if not all, of whom went unanswered. At least this was natural. Children get sick and die.

The brunette failed to control her breathing but continued on amongst upset hick-ups and moisture filled eyes, "Everyone told me that the disease was untreatable with a one hundred percent fatality rate, but at least one of those sick babies is running around completely healthy, aren't they Professor?"

The potions master's lids dimmed wryly, "Surely, I don't know what you mean, Miss Granger. I am not a heal-"

"Don't you dare!" she snapped, "Don't you dare pretend that you didn't treat Scorpius Malfoy and leave my son to die. Not all the money in the world could have helped your godson. The only thing that Draco has that no one else does is you."

The two acidic individuals stared of with sharp eyes. Severus wanted to throw the witch out on her arse for thinking she could waltz in and make demands of him, as if she wasn't the one who owed him countless life debts. She wouldn't be easily disposed of though, he was sure. The Gryffindor Goddess would haunt his every waking moment until her son took his last tiny breath.

He conjured himself a small glass and reached for the firewhiskey inside his top desk drawer, a well used stock. "I'd offer you a drink but you seem to be quiet hysterical enough without the loosened tongue of inebriation," he snarked after a rich gulp.

The wizard took his time deciding his next move before he said anything at all.

"Do you know that the Malfoy's owned a sizable villa in the south of France?"

She just glared back at him, her pretty features venomous.

"I only mention it because that's what they had to sell in order to pay for the potion I provided Draco to save his heir."

Granger looked equal parts frightened and murderous. "You charged your own godson a fortune to save his child?" she spat, disgusted.

"I didn't ask any payment for my services, and they were extensive, mind you, as the potion required a great deal of time to develop and had to be made fresh for six weekly applications," he watched her shrink back guiltily, "The money was to cover the cost of the practically unattainable component needed for its base.

"There is but one reptile in the world that enjoys immunity to the original stain of virus. It originates from only one location in the rainforest of Latin America and because the natives of the region have long ago caught on to its medicinal properties, it had been hunted to extinction."

He caught a glimpse of the girl Granger once was as she leaned in subconscious to soak in his every word, as if she was receiving a free lecture.

"They no longer exist in the wild," he continued, "And because the brew required the actual flesh of the animal, we had to talk it off a very reluctant collector who couldn't dream of parting the his beloved show case for less than three hundred thousand Euros, a fee he was free to name, as he had precious little competition. Even the Malfoy's had trouble coming up with that much raw capital in such a short time."

The wizard still stung from giving the greedy Muggle so much for the creature. He would have Obliviatedthe fool and been done with it if the Ministry hadn't found a way to monitor magical acts against Muggles.

Granger looked as if she were going to be sick on the floor of his office. "So there's no other snake? That's it?" her tears began to well again.

Severus waved his wand lazily and a small file removed itself from the cabinet beside them to settle on the desk. He flipped through until he found the appropriate document.

Now that he thought on it, curing the golden couple's child might run a profit for him if he played his cards right. He wasn't one to turn away good money, no matter the source.

"There was another collector that had recently acquired a full mated pair but was, for obvious reasons, unwilling to give up either one. It's possible that he could have hatched young by now… Scorpius was one of the first cases. However, the price will be just as high, if not more, as he had just paid through the ear for the female and knows their worth."

At this news, she dropped her face in her palms and was silent for longer than he thought appropriate in his company. He guessed her reflection was one of relief but her blotchy, tear soaked cheeks suggested other wise.

"I don't have that kind of money."

He lifted one thick brow, perplexed, "How does the most highly endorsed celebrity couple in Britain not have the pocket change to pay for such a thing."

"You know why," she snapped absently, pulling the roots of her hair as if she were trying to yank it out.

"Believe it or not, wench, not everyone rushes to the news stands to hear the latest sordid details of your wrenched lives. In fact, some actively avoid it."

Granger studied him intently and looked surprised when she saw no evidence of insincerity or humor at her expense. She sighed, "My former brother-in-law's wife had a visit from her veela cousin last summer. It seemed the golden haired trollop liked the idea of a rich war hero and Ron put up precious little resistance," she sniffed delicately, "When she disappeared suddenly back to France she took my husband and the contents of our joint account with her."

Her tone made it clear that she missed her gallons more than she missed her useless ex-lover. "At the time, I had just found out I was pregnant, though Ron and I had been trying-"

Severus snorted, naturally the brainless freckled-arse would luck out and get his paws on the greatest witch of their age and still find it appropriate to waste her with breeding.

"-and when I rented one of the Ministry's tracking owls to delivery the divorce papers, I asked only for full custody of our child. I have very little left."

Though he'd never admit it, her former professor mused that it would most definitely take a full veela to lure any sane man away from a bed warmer as physically appealing as the one Weasley left behind. And even then, it was certainly more about magical allure than raw beauty. His lips twitched into the rare semblance of amusement at the image of the idiot's face when he pissed the creature off and it turned into a sharp taloned Harpy.

She misinterpreted his almost-smile. "Yes, I know," her voice lowered into a drone that was obviously meant to mimic him, "I'm a frigid, tight-legged, shrew that can't hold onto her husband…"

It was a dry joke to poke fun at herself before he had the opportunity but the message was a touch too strong to not have come from the recesses of her self esteem.

"Nonsense, Weasley was born an idiot and he'll die one," he covered the half-compliment with another attempt to dismiss, "However, if that is the case, there is nothing I can do for you. I specifically told young Malfoy to keep this to himself for precisely this reason. It's not fair to get one's hopes up when the only cure is so far from attainable."

"As if you've ever in your life lost a wink of sleep over letting someone down."

He fixed her with a glower that could have terrified the paint off the wall. "I've spent decades losing sleep and sanity because I let someone down. I refuse to answer to spoiled, insolent bits like you when I don't bend over backward to accommodate them," the wizard snarled, "Now get out!"

The woman nearly threw herself on his desk, leaning on the hard wooden surface desperately, "No, please. I'm sorry… I didn't mean…I'm not in my right mind!" she finally stuttered.

"That Granger, is abundantly clear. But luckily there is nothing you could possibly say today that could worsen my pre-existing opinion of you."

He pointed to the door forcefully, "Leave."

Her stunning eyes looked near feral and he could practically see the wheels in her head grasping for traction. Severus wrapped his fingers around his ebony wand in preparation for her last stand.

Instead, she waved her pale hand and conjured a tiny square of paper. A picture, he realized, as she pushed it unsteadily in front of him. It was a frighteningly feminine gesture from the girl he had once watched mow down Death Eaters like they made up an inanimate target practice. He didn't take it from her, but cast his dark eyes upon it to pacify.

Objectively, and though he had very little to compare it to, it was an attractive example of a standard human newborn, with pillowy cheeks, bright blue eyes, and no notable gender distinction aside from its blue pajamas.

"He's the only thing in this world I'd still fight for," Granger spoke softly. "Please, Severus. I-I'll get the money," she said without her famous confidence, "I just need time… but he doesn't have any… If you'd start on the potion-"

"Miss Granger," he articulated slowly, "You're asking me to put forth a quarter million galleons of my own coin with no guarantee of repayment or benefit to myself. You are, in Muggle terms, barking up the wrong tree."

The witch sat back against the leather chair for a number of tense minutes, and again threw him for a loop when she rose gracefully to her feet.

"I'm going to get the money," she said, more herself than him.

She primed beautifully, using her wand to charm the puffiness out from under her eyes and smooth her waist length hair in order to leave in presentable condition.

He watched her every move, not willing to think her beyond an Imperio.

Hermione wasn't a tall woman, would probably come to the line of scars around his neck if stood against him. She was so petite, though, that it gave the allusion of length when partnered with a rather dangerous looking pair of heels.

She wore a modestly cut but figure hugging Muggle dress, garb that had gained popularity in the wizarding world since the down fall of the Dark Lord and rampant integration campaigns.

Granger bent over his desk to collect her son's medical forms and gave the older wizard and completely unintentional flash of the tops of her creamy, full breasts. They were huge on her frame, heavy with mother's milk no doubt.

Severus' not-easily-impressed cock stirred enthusiastically inside his robes.

He wanted to fuck her.

How inconvenient.

For a moment he resigned himself to another marginally satisfying visit to the local brothel but as his keen eyes took in Granger's fight to force back disappointed tears, he wondered if he could work out a different mutually rewarding transaction.

He almost loathed to flatter her with the suggestion.

The witch's tempting little arse was already swaying towards the door when he decided fucking it would be worth the ridiculous price. He had just since the end of the war achieved financial success enough to be able to make such an offer.

"Granger," he drawled, no urgency.

She turned on him, salvaged pride in the set of her narrow shoulders, "No need for goodbyes, professor. I'm coming back."

He sneered. As though he'd ever stop her exit to administer well wishes.

"I was wondering, rather, if you'd consent to drop the rose colored notion of scavenging the obscene amount of money before your pup's condition worsens in favor of another form of payment."

The lovely female visibly held back sudden hope, it looked as if her knees where trying to buckle on her. "Do you mean a way to start the treatment before I come up with the money?"


Her face fell.

"I mean service in lieu of payment."

She was back in the chair, her hands waving erratically in time with her chatter, before he could blink, "Of course! Anything, sir! I'aven't any work experience but I've earned my degree in both Charms and Transfiguration… And not to gloat but I'm an eloquent brewer-"

The girl was so much more beautiful with her mouth shut.

"This is an indecent proposal, Granger."

Brightest witch of their age aside, it took her a full minute to understand his insinuation. Her eyes and mouth formed the same perfect 'O's', and he watched with a mild expression as a blush traveled up the smooth skin of her throat.

"Oh," she whispered.

He had the sense that he was facing the calm before the storm. "If you are not interested, you are more than free to collect the money yourself and bring it to me. I will prepare the treatment once you've covered the costs regardless. But if you are amenable, I'll pay for the material myself and will contact the reptile vender first thing tomorrow."

"You mean to say…" the dignified war vixen stated slowly, offense brewing behind golden eyes, "That I can buy my son's life by sleeping with you?"

Snape didn't back down. It wasn't as if she could ruin his reputation. No one liked him anyway. "No. You'd be buying the medication to cure your son of his illness. It's hardly uncouth. I'm sure the whores I patronize in Knockturn Alley use their wages to purchase things for their children all the time."

"I am not a whore!" she hissed.

Cutting the over-valued witch down to measure was almost worth having to spend his day dealing with her. "If it makes you feel any better, I believe the exchange would make your quim the most expensive in all of Europe."

The Gryffindor gasped like she'd been struck.

"I cant believe you'd proposition a student…"

"You haven't been a student of mine for years, Granger," he corrected, "No matter how many times you call me 'Professor'."

She huffed childishly, her arms crossed in front of her chest in a way that only accentuated the tits his thin lips yearned to wrap around.

"Are you breastfeeding?"

"Excuse me?"

"Are you providing your child with nourishment though your lactating mammary glands?"

She turned an unhealthy shade of red. "I know what it means, you snake! I just don't see how that's any of your business."

Half of it had to do with his desire to suckle those gorgeous mounds himself—professional harlots weren't exactly the kind of things one wants to put their mouth on—but he also had more appropriate motives.

"Draco's trophy bride refused such commoner practices, we had to hire the child a wet nurse. The potion is too abrasive to be given directly to a sick new born and needs to be administered through its mother's milk. If you've allowed yourself to run dry, I'll need to give you an elixir that induces lactation."

"Oh…" she settled some, embarrassed, "No. Thank you, but that won't be necessary. modern Muggles stress the importance of bonding with your child and giving optimal nutrition. 'Breast is best' and all that…" she recited offhandedly, "Now how would this arrangement work then?"


"The sex. What do you want from me, exactly."

The astonishment that hit him meant that he had never actually thought there was a chance she'd agree. Hermione Granger, deserving or not, was every wizard's deepest desire, and knowing her stupid sense of ethics and propriety, he was sure she'd been with only one man in her entire twenty-some years of life. While Snape didn't covet her for keeps, he sure as hell wouldn't mind bedding the fresh young chit.

Severus quickly considered what he expected for his galleons and hard work. "I want full access to your body throughout the entire process, witch. From now until the last dose is given to your son."

She squirmed, "Full access?"

"The potion will be hard on you, as you're to be the one consuming it directly. I propose you and the child stay in a spare room of my home, temporally for the six weeks of treatment. There, my house elf will be able to look over the boy on the days you are fatigued from the potion and I will be able to get my money's worth," his dark eyes glittered.

He'd acquired a Ministry seized manor for a great price after its original owner was tossed in Azkaban. It was far too grand for his tastes but after the stigma of owning Death Eater property died down, he'd be able to turn it for thrice what he paid. For the time being, it meant he could house Granger and her noisy babe on the opposite wing and never risk seeing them unless he wanted her.

"Is that something you'd consent to or would you prefer to come up with monetary payment?"

Hermione looked up at him like he'd asked the world's most ridiculous question. "You're a complete bastard for even offering it, but of course I'm going to do it. I know that being born without a heart affects your ability to understand such things," she accused testily, "but I'd do any thing for my child. You could have asked me for a pound of flesh and I would have given it willingly. If it means getting him help faster… its yours."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time," he murmured dryly.

The red and gold lioness turn sheepish, "I'm not… good at it, sir. I'd been with Ronald since we were teens and, well, everyone who's picked up a news paper knows how that ended.

"I'll try my best…" she held her chin up with genuine determination, "to please you. But you have to promise me that my son wont suffer if you find me… lacking."

Severus wondered if there was a woman on earth intelligent enough to be immune to the damage inflicted by unworthy men. Obviously not, since he was hesitant to believe anyone quicker than Granger. How a beautiful female could have her self-confidence systematically crushed by a boy that looks and acts so much like a wild ape was remarkable.

The silly girl would get no emotional healing from him, however. She could lay stark still underneath him and smile pretty for all he cared.

"There's no chance of that, I assure you," he told her firmly. His eyes wondered her body and he sat back expectantly, "However, I would like a sample of what is to come right now, if you'd please."

She went as ridged as a doe caught in rapidly approaching headlights, her pink lips pursing and closing several times before she found her words. "I-Right now? Here?" she squeaked comically.

He waved to invite action. "Quite right."

"I've never made love outside of the bedroom," she said softly.

He smirked, just a twitch, "And I don't plan on changing that, as I have no inclination towards love making—but even if we're using the loosest form of the term, that isn't what I'm asking for presently."

Severus settled his gaze on her sweet mouth.

There was a sudden serge of raw magic in the small room, after which Hermione was left wringing her hands innocently.

He tsked his disapproval, "You just tried to disapperate."

"Its an old defense mechanism! I do it when I'm nervous… Completely involuntary," she claimed, but still looked a bit put out, "Only you would have wards that wont let people out of your office."

He sighed after several moments passed and it became apparent she didn't plan on budging. The war heroine needed courage… or at the very least, motivation.

"Miss Granger, if you find yourself up unable to perform outright then there are easier and cheaper options for me," he warned gently, without the heat of an actual threat.

Even the intolerant ex-Death Eater realized a women of her caliber was worth a little more patience and gentleness than he would ever consider wasting on hired talent.

She didn't make him wait long however, when reminded of the unyielding nature of her business partner and how quickly her opportunity could be lost, the small beauty stood to her full, unimpressive height and advanced on him bravely.

Though Severus enjoyed control during sex, the same as in every facet of his life, he merely pushed his chair away from the desk and settled himself against the leather back. Part of him was just curious as to what she'd come up with if not given explicit instruction and direction, a scenario that would have led to conniptions when she was a child. The other part, the part he wouldn't admit to, was simply too busy watching her lithe little form sway towards him with admirable determination.

His long-neglected member was already as hard as stone by the time she plopped her firm bottom into his lap.

If Snape hadn't been so surprised by the action, he would have stopped it, but when Hermione Granger wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the lips, he was left entirely out of his element. The dark wizard couldn't even remember the last time he'd been embraced and kissed, but was sure it had never happened with the intensity and tenderness that the girl on his lap was forcing on him now.

Severus groaned—guttural and unintentional as her needy fingers threaded through his hair, her breasts burning against his shirt.

This was the type of attention one received when they messed with a witch that had been married to her childhood sweetheart her entire adult life, a woman that knew nothing of sexual satisfaction without the smolder of love and affection for her partner.

Mouth full of passionate female, he knew in that first moment that such treatment would be dangerously easy to get used to…

She pulled back shyly, pink and panting, before burrowing her nose into the crook of his neck. Her breaths fanned softly across the scars that covered his throat and he felt a twinge of foreign emotion when she pressed a kiss on the marred flesh instead of recoiling like all the others.

"Is this alight?" Granger asked meekly, her finger nails scraping gently at his scalp.

No. It wasn't.

It was intimate and unnerving and made his tool throb harder than any proper sucking he'd received in his entire life.

But naturally, he wasn't going to cop to any of that. "Whatever makes you comfortable, Miss Granger," he managed gruffly.

He moved his hands—which he was somewhat surprised to find on her hips—up to her tiny waist and then down her back until they were each grasping one cheek of plump arse.

"Oh my," she moaned delicately.

Severus jumped on the reaction, kneading her flesh until she was undeniably grinding her heat over the solid ridge his cock provided. "I thought you were appalled by my proposition, wench," he mocked her lightly, despite his own consuming want. His large nostrils flared, "I can smell you through your clothes. You're positively ripe for a shagging…"

He felt rather than saw the heat of her blush against his cheek.

"I- Well, its been a while for me," she confessed. "When I was pregnant, it was miserable, not having a partner around, but its been easier since my hormones settled some." Her lips ghosted over the shell of his ear and he worked hard to suppress a shiver. "I guess I didn't realize how much I missed this…"

Clearly her honest, kittenish vulnerability when sexually engaged wasn't going to make cutting the intimacy by goading her a possibility.

"Missed what?" he wondered, trying to quell his panic.

She leaned back, a question in her honey eyes, "Being wanted?"

Severus allowed the assumption.

He flexed his groin into her pointedly, "Well, you're certainly that, witch."

The vixen gasped as she dropped her gaze, "You mean…" she swallowed hard, "that's all- there's nothing in your front pocket?"

He puffed proudly, "No time like the present to find out."

The wizard reluctantly released his hold and placed gentle but suggestive pressure on her shoulders to coax her off his lap and onto the floor in front of him.

She kneeled obediently with only a hint of trepidation. Her pretty little face—so eager to please and staring up at him—was nearly his undoing. "I've only done this a few times," she warned, "and its been a while."

Severus wondered if she was the frigid type who refused to do something so unsavory more often than was absolutely necessary to land a husband or if Weasley was just a useless troll that didn't want anything to stand in the way of rutting.

After that clearly attention-starved kiss, he guessed than later.

He threaded his fingers through her smooth curls, almost possessively, and lied to put her at ease before he could realize he was doing it, "Some is better than others, but I've yet to receive bad head."

She showed her appreciation by smiling, opening the front of his robes and the fly of his trousers. His cock voiced its appreciation by lurching out in greeting, showing far more enthusiasm than its owner would ever would.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," Granger hissed at it.

Severus actually smiled, a pleasant surge of vanity the less-than attractive man rarely got to experience. He was well endowed. "Not familiar with such a large tool, witch?"

"Of course I am," she snipped with a blush, "My aunt had horses when I was growing up…"

His snicker turned into a deep groan as she wrapped her warm hand tentatively around his base and gave him a little lick up his shaft. It was an armature move to the extreme but looking down at such a beautiful creature servicing him more than made up for her lack of finesse.

She kept her eyes trained up at him with every gentle lapping, searching out his reactions in order to hone in on his likes. Her gaze was almost reverent, a far cry from the whores that diverted their attention and tried to pretend they hadn't gotten stuck with a cold ex-Death Eater.

"Good girl," he choked out his praise, his grip on her hair careful but tightening with the pulse in his sack.

Hermione positively lit up under his approval, doubling her efforts. He thought fleetingly that he would have thrown her a compliment more often when she was a student had he known how gorgeous she was when trebling with excitement.

He hissed as her fingers kneaded his balls daintily. "A quick study as always, Miss Granger," he crooned, eyes trailing that prefect pink tongue, "But show me you know how to use that sweet mouth to do more than annoy. Suck me, princess."

Severus was disappointed that term came out sounding more like an endearment than the mild ribbing he'd been shooting for. It was hard to remember to dislike a witch when she was looking up at him like that.

"I'll try," she panted out as she sat up higher off her haunches and slipped her burning mouth over the top of him.

"Merlin," he threw his head back as she attempted to stuff herself with his member.

Heavily muscled thighs ached with the impulse to thrust, to fuck that fantastic slim throat—and had she been anyone else, or had she stopped looking at him with so much trust, he would have been balls deep in her.

"Easy, witch… you don't have to hurt yourself to make it good. You can worry about getting all of me inside when I get to fuck you."

She whimpered and he was shocked at the eagerness of the sound.

His hand guided her back to a much more reasonable depth and she hummed around him gratefully. Severus decided then and there that she was the best thing that ever happened to his cock, regardless that she was only able to take half of it in.

She watched him the entire time, her huge eyes soaking up his pleasure in a way that would have succeeded in making the wizard feel self-conscious had he been able to process anything but the sensations she was inducing.

"Fuck," he yelped as the little witch established a rhythm sure to kill his dubious endurance, "Your going to earn every Knut of that money aren't you, little wench? Worth every Knut…"

The smell of her own musky scent of arousal wafting up to him was what truly did him in. It wasn't a delicacy the unattractive man was able to experience often and like all males, it left him trembling with the a rush of testosterone and an unbearable urgency to spill his seed.

"I'm going to come," he just barely had the decency to hiss out in warning, "I want to watch you swallow me down, princess. Can you do that?"

Severus didn't give her much time to think over his request before his vision of her was blurred by the blinding white pleasure of his release. He felt her throat convulse around the tip of him multiple time as she swallowed back what he was sure was the biggest load he'd ever ejaculated.

He had very little lucidity to his thoughts in the moments after his orgasm. He may have proposed to the blessed witch.

Snape tucked his sensitive member into his trousers as the pink-cheeked woman perched her small bum on the corner of the desk directly in front of him. He couldn't believe that the pretty female had the audacity to look uncertain after such a performance.

"Was that a good start?" she asked timidly.

The dark wizard would have strangled her for making him lose his constant hold on control but he wasn't sure he had any bones left in his body with which to lift him arms.

"I'll see you and your son at noon in two days time, Granger. Don't be late."

This is my first time trying to write SS/HG, though I'm a huge fan of it. Let me know what you think if you have the time! Thanks tons for reading either way.

12.31.2011- Someone more of less beta'ed this chapter via not-logged in review signed SevereWrath. lol I can't thank them because I don't know if it's their actual account, but I totally appreciate it and I went though and made those changes.