A/N: Companion piece to If You Show Me Yours and I highly suggest you read that one first. Companion art can be found at azalea_nymph's livejournal.
Hermione stepped warily deeper into the dimly lit Potions classroom, following a set of rich black robes as they moved through a barely identifiable doorway. She had been through this door previously, as one of the few who had gained entrance to the man's inner sanctum.
Though never under these conditions.
Previously when she had worked for, and with, Professor Snape, it was with a sense of reluctant camaraderie, at least at first.
Hermione was never the student who just sat back and let things happen. She was a bossy swot who took the reins and ran. After the battle was over, she found herself at complete loose ends. Not enough education for a career, far too mousy, and not enough scandal for the limelight. No more villains to face, except for the beaurocrats and she'd had enough of them already.
She found herself spending more time than most at Hogwarts, mostly to keep herself busy. Her wand work made her desirable in the cleanup and restoration of the school, but she still left home each night unsatisfied. Physically, she was in prime condition but mentally, she was restless and uneasy. Eventually she found her way to Madam Pomfrey, who took the sight of her as a gift from Merlin himself and shortly had her set up with her own cauldron, brewing basics such as Calming Draught. St. Mungo's was barely keeping up with their own patients, and there were enough people at the school to warrant a steady supply of Hogwarts' own.
After about a week of seeing her sweating and struggling and the top of the tower, Professor Snape beckoned her with a simple, "Follow, Granger," down to his own personal lab. It was much cooler than the rest of the castle due to both its location and a few well-placed charms. It was also a Master level laboratory which far exceeded her meagre need but was still much more practical than her corner of the hospital wing.
"Work," he told her and that was the start of the rest of her summer.
Possibly the start of a friendship.
Maybe something more.
...At least an acquaintance.
Or so she had thought.
If she felt any fear as she followed him, she tried her hardest not to show it. If she felt any excitement or arousal as she followed him, she tried not to show those either.
It wasn't her fault he had seen the subject of her potion. He asked her to brew it and he was the one who spilled it on himself. It was his fault, really. Though if his reaction was what she thought it was, she may have doused him on her own earlier.
It had seemed mere moments after the students cleared the doorway before his lips were on hers as he crushed her curls and clutched her rear, leaving her with the tantalizing promise that since she had shown him her fantasies, he would return the favour. His words washed over like a spell or charm; sending tingles down her skin, giving her gooseflesh. Then with just a quirk of his finger and a promise from her that her feelings were genuine, he was leading her back into the room they had shared so much time in the previous summer.
He didn't speak to her as she entered, merely continued with his task of gathering a few vials and bottles, turning up the flame beneath a cauldron and acquiring a clean stirring rod. She recognized the components of the potion they had just brewed. The Appententia Potion. Was he literally going to show her his fantasies?
When he had finished assembling a fresh, organized workspace, he turned to her just like he had on their first day together in this lab.
She cocked an eyebrow to him, and began the same task she had just completed the day before.
"You brewed this potion at a Master's Level, did you know that?"
She shook her head 'no', and concentrated on slicing daisy roots. "I wasn't aware you could do that without training."
"You can," he said softly, standing almost immediately behind. She caught her breath when she felt his sleeve brush against her arm. "But not without some assistance, generally. I'm interested to see how you fare when remaking the potion."
"Okay," she said slowly, wondering if this was just some strange dream. A side effect of ingesting the potion perhaps. Would she wake up in her chambers with her nerves on fire as they were now? Damp panties and no knowledge of what had transpired?
As she reached for the beetle eyes, a wooden spoon slipped and fell to the floor. She really wasn't normally clumsy. Cursing herself internally, she whispered her apologies and bent over to retrieve it.
As her fingers touched the smooth wood, she felt cool fingers run up from her knee to the top of her thigh. She swallowed down a gasp, and let out a shuddering breath.
"My, my, Granger. What do you have on under here? This is not regulation."
"No...no, sir. We were given a bit more liberty with the uniform as we were all above age when we came back to school."
"But surely such lace and sheer undergarments were not what Minerva had in mind. And she is your head of house. As an administrator, I believe I must take it upon myself to see that you are sufficiently...punished."
"Punished?" she asked, apprehension mixing again with her arousal. Surely he didn't mean detention?
"Over the table, Granger," he told her, motioning for her to bend over the workbench. "Grasp the spoon with both hands." He nudged her knees apart with his to spread her feet.
"What are you going to-"
Hermione's thought was interrupted by the crisp sound of his hand connecting with her mostly bare arse. "Ow!" she instinctively responded, thought in truth it was just a mere sting.
Whack! His hand was brought down again to her bottom, this time catching just a bit of her quim. There was pain, to be sure, but it mingled with a bit of pleasure unlike anything Hermione had felt before. When he reached back to spank her again, he found her leaning back into it.
"That's a girl," he told her in a husky voice, just slightly out of breath from the exertion. "You know when you've been naughty. Of course you would take your punishment like Gryffindor." Whack! His hand came down again, this time lingering to lightly caress the rosy globes before him. "My, Miss Granger," Snape told her, fingering the damp fabric he found below her cheeks. "One might think you are beginning to enjoy this." Whack!
Hermione bit her cheek to keep from whimpering. "Please," she managed with a strangled voice as she clutched the wooden spoon before her. "Please."
"I need more," she whispered. "Please touch me." She spread her legs further apart in invitation.
"But I am," he assured her with another solid spank, once more dragging the pads of his fingers beneath the sheer gauze of her panties, stroking the wetness he found. He watched as her legs widen further, giving him full access to take anything he desired. There was a worry she wouldn't enjoy this type of type but he saw he needed have been concerned. Perhaps she would be open to continuing a few more of the ideas he had regarding the delectable Miss Granger. "I take it this is something you wish to continue."
"You had better fucking continue!" came her indignant reply.
"Such language. Come...eventually, at least. Let us go to somewhere a little more comfortable."
Hermione ignored the clichéd line and resisted rubbing her thighs together in an attempt at relief. She tugged her school attire down over her rear and took his offered hand.
Severus called for a house-elf who whisked them to his room, no questions asked. He would have explained to her that they were used to having to ferry him around the castle and thought nothing of it, but he had more important matters on his mind at the moment.
"You swear it, Hermione?" Severus asked her as he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his restrictive jacket. "You swear you want to see where this goes? No games?" In mere moments he'd divested himself of almost of his clothing, saving only his trousers; Hermione felt a momentary power at being the only one completely dressed.
"None," she assured him. "You know me better than that." As she sat back on his high four poster bed, her skirt ran up her thighs. She pulled it up a little more, exposing a bit of her panties. "What did this tell you?"
Severus came over to her in a rush, gently pushing her to lie back on the bed. "It tells me they need to be removed," he whispered, and hooked a long, tapered finger under the scrap of material, pulling them down over her creamy white thighs, dropping them to the floor. "Better." The two of them removed the rest of her uniform in short order; both were naked and back on a somewhat even playing field. He stood back, quieting the trembling in his hands, to take in the body of the beauty before him. With a steadying breath, he brought his fingers to graze her thigh as he knelt before her.
Hermione propped her hands under her. She wanted to watch what he was doing this time because, Gods, was he sexy. Fire had lit the coal in his eyes and she could see how deeply he burned. His hair hung low, framing his face as he looked up to her from between her knees. She spread them as an invitation once again. He was more than welcome to take what he wanted from her. Hermione was his as long as he let her be, and if seemed as though the feeling was mutual.
"I want to hear you," came the throaty rumble. "I want to make you scream, and call my name, and forget any man that ever dared touch you before me."
"Christ, Severus," Hermione breathed, feeling her arousal heighten at his words. After all, he was a man who lived up to his promises.
"That's a start," he told her before taking one, then two of his thin, dexterous fingers and slipping them effortlessly inside her. She was more than ready for him.
Her body shuddered as he reached into her core, his finger finding the little nub inside that made her come undone as his longest finger beckoned her with a come hither motion. Her breath hitched as he slid his fingers in deeper before retreating, only to dive in again, searching for her hidden treasure, and claiming it for his own.
As she began to writhe beneath him, he marvelled at her strength and her beauty. Never before had someone been so responsive to him. Never had someone truly desired to be his. He belonged to her in ways she might never understand.
"Severus!" she yelled in between her little mews and cries, arching her back into him as he pushed her knees further apart, giving her bud a little kiss.
"Gods, don't talk! I'm falling apart. I'm-"
Her wrangled scream rang through the air as soon as his tongue touched her. The final catalyst to sending her over the edge. She had been strung so tight with his feather light touches, it didn't take much to make her snap. "Fuck!" was all she added as she inhaled deeply, trying to catch her breath in between wave after wave of orgasm.
When she finally returned to Earth, she laid on the bed for a moment to recover, lightly patting the mattress beside her. He climbed up to join her, just a trickle of moisture on his otherwise clean, though somewhat flushed face.
"You know I have to return the favour," she told him as nonchalantly as she could.
He smirked. "I'm counting on it."
"And in yourfantasies, how does it happen?"
That look of flame returned to his gaze as he rolled over with a wicked grin, bringing her with him with a yelp.
She would definitely have to work on that nubile sex kitten trait he apparently thought she possessed. Bringing her legs down on either side of him, she sat up and straddled his stomach with ease. Trailing her fingers down his sparse chest, Hermione took a moment to savour what was about to be their first time together. Reflection would be needed later to analyze how the day had come to this, but she was thankful for whatever had transpired. "You're very handsome like this," she told him softly, reaching to play with a dark lock of his hair splayed across his white pillow like ink spilled over parchment. Her lips met his, chaste at first and much more gentle than their first coming together. She deepened the kiss this time as she felt his erection rub against her backside. It seemed to want to remind her that it was feeling neglected.
If this was his fantasy, she was going to give it to him with bells on.
Hermione caught his eyes as she leaned back, wanting to watch his face. The head of his cock was poised perfectly to enter as she leaned back, rubbing her slit along his shaft. "Was this was you wanted?"
"For starters," he told her, barely able to breathe. He was wound tighter than Molly Weasley's clock. The anticipation was going to kill him. Not Voldemort. Not Dumbledore. Not bloody Lupin, rest his soul. This. This beautiful, bright young witch who for some reason wanted to be with him and was currently naked and teasing his todger. He was going to die. "Please," he whispered, trying not to beg.
At his request, she slid down his length. The gasp she made would be one of his fondest memories for years to come. His face melting into bliss and relief would be one of hers.
He fit her flawlessly, deep and snug. Her muscles flexed as they felt his girth and it was his turn to give a wrangled cry.
"Was there something you needed, Severus?" she asked, barely finding the strength to smirk as she slowly leaned forward, feeling him slide out.
"No thanks," came his strangled voice. "I'll just be here, thinking about grading papers."
Hermione sank back down on him then and again and again, grinding herself against him to feel him against her clit, giving him wave after wave of deep penetration. All thought, even the snark which seemed to flow so freely from him, disappeared as he was well and thoroughly fucked.
She raked her nails down his chest as he rose to meet her, burying his cock as deep in her curls as possible, joining them as fully as they could manage. Deep guttural moans were heard by one, then the other, sometimes both.
When her nails caressed his skin, she noticed his nipple pucker in response and wondered if it was from pleasure, much as she had received from her spanking. "Good?" she asked as her nails scrapped over his nipples.
"Very," he responded, thrusting into her again.
An idea came to her and she leaned forward, grabbing one of the pillar candles lit at his bedside. His gaze followed her as she brought the candle back, poised over his chest. "Yes, witch," he told before she could even ask the question. It was as though she knew him and his innermost thoughts. This was definitely one of his fantasies. She dribbled the hot wax down his chest, watching as it flowed and formed over his taught muscle and bone, leaving a little redness behind. "Yessss," he hissed at her as he felt the wax harden against his skin. "Fuck!" he added as she dripped a few drops on each nipple, watching them bud in response. She would have to remember that.
He flipped her over then quite suddenly, and pinned her to the mattress with his chest against hers as her legs were thrown over his thighs. His hands reached under her arms, grasping her shoulders to hold her to him as he began to finally fuck her with earnest. Hermione met his enthusiastic thrusts with her own, wrapping her slender legs around his wiry frame as they both scrambled for a firm grasp on the other. "Yes, Severus," she cried, feeling herself begin to peak again. "Yes, yes, yes."
"Gods, Hermione," he answered. "Feels so. Fucking. Good."
Her neck arched as she came, whispering his Snape as though it were a plea to the gods, as much from his words as his actions. Her delicate muscles that were wrapped around him pulsed with her pleasure, causing him to come with her, and wringing him dry.
His body glistened with his exertion as she held him on top of her, his head resting in the valley of her breasts. They laid like that for some time, Hermione brushing gentle kisses into his hair while he listened to the fluttering beat of her heart. Eventually, the need for fresh air and to cool off took over, and they moved so they lay side-by-side. Snape's body was turned into Hermione's, who lay with her head in the crook of his shoulder as she played idly with chairs of his chest.
"So is the position filled?" she asked earnestly, though a twinkle shone in her eye.
"Position?" He glanced at her, pulling her closer to nuzzle her delicious clavicle.
"Weren't you looking for someone to make your fantasies come true? Because I've found the right candidate for me and mine," she teased, idly wondering how she was ever going to explain this to Ron and Harry. She squirmed against his slick body, making little mews as he licked the sweat from her skin, kissing his way along her collar.
He stopped, and adopted a thoughtful expression,"Oh, I don't know. The job calls for some dexterity. And flexibility...And stamina."
She laughed. "I think I can manage. We'll just have to work on those traits together, shall we? And perhaps the fantasies."
"If you show me yours, I'll show you mine," he promised as he leaned in for another kiss.