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Title: What's a man to do? (2/3)
Author: (anonymous for now)
Summary: Suffering from a curse that causes oddly specific impotence, how can Severus help Hermione get what she wants?
Prompt: Many years ago, for refusing Professor Vector's advances, she cursed Severus to be impotent. Since Severus pined for Lily, it did not matter to him he was cursed. Now after the war, Hermione has caught his eye.
Prompter: [livejournal.com profile] bonsaibetz
Warnings:
Notes: I veered a little from the prompt, I hope no one minds too much.
Some smut (obviously), a little plot, a splash of humour, a little fluff, perhaps a smidgen of angst, and potentially OOC in places. Characters and places belong to JKR, I'm just playing for fun, no money made, no harm intended.


In a place as large and isolated as Hogwarts, it was oddly easy for staff to be slowly cut off from their fellows. Whilst there were always little cliques that got together, these were often far from inclusive. Minerva, mindful of recent cases like Sybil Trelawney and even Argus Filch, had instituted a social soiree for all staff, no matter if they were the most junior or non-teaching, which happened every couple of months or so through the school year – attendance and participation was not strictly obligatory, but Minerva strongly recommended at least showing your face for a while. So everyone did.

You'd have thought such a thing would actually make these get-togethers awkward and tedious, but somehow it mostly seemed to work. Even Severus deemed it quite successful, as such things go, and often found himself being called on to participate in discussions and activities. Sometimes during school breaks, when both the students and many of their number had left, the remaining staff would make their way down to the Three Broomsticks, but usually it involved people mingling in the large staff meeting room for 'tea, nibbles and drinkies' provided by Minerva via the House Elves.

This particular evening found him sitting alongside Hermione on a sofa as others dropped in and out of the meandering conversation, and although he found most of the talk entertaining to one degree or another, Severus had to admit the real attraction had been the heat of her thigh alongside his as they sat and traded sometimes flirtatious ripostes. Hermione might now be a friend, but he couldn't ignore that she was also a woman.

After such a good evening it seemed only natural to walk Hermione back to her quarters as the gathering broke up. The banter continued as they walked slowly together, and he had no complaint when the hand she laid on him while she chuckled at one of his wry comments curled naturally around the crook of his arm as they walked side-by-side. With this closeness it was easy for him to bend his head and whisper another rather risqué quip into her ear, and for her to burrow her head into the crease of his arm in abashed amusement. Almost like lovers do, he thought, but clamped down on the idea. Such was not for him, after all.

They reached her door as he finished telling Hermione another tale of student misdeeds that seemed amusing after the event – for the teachers at least. Severus stepped aside a little, allowing her to move away, but instead of releasing him he felt a little more pressure on his arm, holding him in place.

“I've been having such a good time, it seems a shame to end the night so soon. Would... would you care to come inside for a while,” Hermione fumbled a little with her wand as she looked up at him, somewhat shyly.

He had his suspicions where this was going, and he knew he shouldn't encourage it. As thrilling as he'd found their more public flirtations, as drawn as he was to the younger witch on many levels, he knew she would not be satisfied in a relationship without physical intimacy, something he was unable to give her. By the time she might be ready to consider settling for a more platonic association she was bound to find someone who could fulfil nearly all her needs no matter how much he might wish it otherwise. Still, it would be nice to spend just a little more time with her, to build a little on his fantasy of what ifs for when his rooms became just a little too empty, his bed a bit too cold. With his nod of agreement, Hermione flicked her wand at the door with a smile and lead Severus inside.

Throwing her outer robes over the back of her lone armchair and inviting Severus to do the same 'if he wanted to get comfortable', Hermione nipped into her tiny kitchenette to fetch the iced juice she'd offered. This left him with the choice of the small sofa or finding somewhere else for her clothing. There was only the smallest of hesitations on his part before his outer robes joined hers. The sofa was no smaller than the one they had sat in all evening, after all. Hermione returned with two tall glasses filled with amber apple juice, ice and a twist of lemon for bite, and they sipped companionably as she started on an animated anecdote of her own, leaning into him. He pretended not to notice when one of her warm hands landed on his upper thigh, but she stilled, and did not remove it.

Now she was quiet, her eyes wide as they roamed his face, looking for something. Perhaps she saw it, as she leaned into him. Oh, this was so wrong, and he was sure to be damned for it, but even though his disability loomed in his mind he found himself wanting, needing, just a little more. Hermione's hand slipped slightly higher as she leaned in closer, her eyes flicking a little nervously between his own and his lips. Would one little kiss really hurt so much? She was the one initiating the move, after all, and he could see no polite way to turn her down that wouldn't leave her hurt or embarrassed. He was no longer the bastard he'd been before.

Severus moved his arm from the back of the sofa to her shoulder. Leaning down as much as she leaned up, he found his lips on Hermione's, and his eyes flickered shut. He was not totally without experience; there were times in the past he had tried to get past the curse, and he had become somewhat proficient at kissing and touching as a would-be lover, if nothing else. However, most of these had been controlled and calculating or an impassioned mashing of lips, certainly not the tenderness he was experiencing with Hermione.

Despite a certain reserve, Hermione continued her gentle advances when she found Severus reciprocating. However, he felt it was time he found a way to excuse himself, and it was with both regret and relief he felt her ease back first. With a gentlemanly excuse on his lips (though how he wished they were on her lips again) he opened his eyes. Hermione was sat straight, her hands folded in her lap and an odd look on her face.

At some point this magnificent witch had loosened the buttons that held together the bodice of her dress while he was distracted by her mouth. Now she sat there, those wonderful breasts he had been fantasising about exposed to his eyes. The nude-coloured lingerie did little to distract from her lightly tanned flesh, and he found himself frozen in place and staring like a fifteen year old virgin. However, before he could embarrass himself by throwing himself forward to bury his face in that cleavage, Hermione tensed and jumped to her feet.

“I'm so sorry, Severus. Please excuse my silly behaviour, and I'm sorry I've been so offensive. I'll understand if you don't want to, but maybe tomorrow we can try to forget about tonight and continue as friends?”

Somewhat at a loss, Severus surprised himself as he rose and tried to comfort the confusing yet upset young witch.

“Hermione, please look at me,” he asked, gently pulling her close. When she finally raised her eyes under wet lashes, he continued. “I don't really know what the problem is, but I'm not offended. In fact, I'm rather flattered that you'd take such an interest. If, tomorrow, you still want us to forget about this, I will try – although I admit that it might be a little hard for me.”

He said this last with a small smile, but caught her muttered 'yeah, except it's not, is it' as she attempted to turn further away from him and pull her dress together. Ah, so she'd noticed, and assumed it was because he simply wasn't attracted. How to set her right, without embarrassing her or himself further? Before he could think further on it, Hermione continued aloud.

“Severus, there is no need to dress things up, give me the old 'it's not you, it's me' line. I understand, really I do. You are not the first man to be,” one of her hands fluttered over her barely covered chest, “repulsed by my disfigurement, and I expect you won't be the last.”

Hermione had now stiffened her spine and was making a credible attempt to hide her distress, but Severus was still confused. Disfigurement? He ran through the image that had been so recently burned into his mind, but couldn't understand what she meant.

“Tell me, Hermione, tell me what you mean, because I have no idea.”

“Don't, Severus. Just... don't. You've been honest enough with me until now, sometimes brutally so. I thought it might be different with you, but I've been told before how, how ugly I am, the scars...” she trailed off.

After an initial moment of incredulity, Severus felt anger. This was the woman he dreamt of. What idiot had had the chance to be with this attractive, courageous, young witch and told her such hurtful foolishness? He had seen her forearm before, and now firmly but gently pulled her arms open and took a critical look. As previously noted, she had full breasts, slightly larger than medium. Her skin was fairly evenly coloured, apart from a few freckles and the odd hint of a silvered line here and there; not unexpected, considering her history, and far less than on his own hide. He now noticed the trace of dark magic on her skin, but it was far from prominent. He grit his teeth.

“You. Are. Not. Ugly. Your scars are barely visible, and hardly detract from your other assets,” here Severus let himself look openly at her in admiration, causing a blush to appear over the top of her luscious mounds that quickly rose up her neck to her cheeks, drawing his eyes back to her face. “I am greatly honoured you have trusted me with this, despite any mistreatment by earlier fools. My apparent disinterest really isn't you, I—”

Now it was his turn to show courage. Hermione had thought enough of him to trust him with this, now it was time to be open about himself if she was ever to feel good about herself. He took a fortifying breath. “I suffer from a curse, and one that was miscast, so I have been unable to rid myself of it in all the years I've been afflicted. It isn't as absolute as it might be but, Hermione, I can't get an erection. Not with you, not with anyone. It isn't that you are unattractive, but I could never make love to you as I would like, like a man should.”

He tried to look stoic, but the honesty of his admission left him feeling open and vulnerable. He felt her hands tighten supportively on his, but the emotions that were running across her face were mixed.

“Sooo, what you are telling me is that I'm not mistaken, you actually are attracted to me. Perhaps you've lead me on a little, but that you really would take me to bed if you could get an erection?”

Severus looked at her through his hair – a habit he had nearly broken until now. “Well, yes. I suppose that is what I'm saying, if you strip it right down,” he winced slightly at the unintentional phrasing. “I can only emphasise, Hermione, that you are a very desirable woman. And now, I hope you will have the strength to ignore the fools, find yourself a man that deserves you, and keep the secret of my inability and regret.”

With another of his curt nods to her, Severus made to stalk to the door and see himself out, but her urgent cry brought him to a halt. “Severus! Don't go, not yet!”

He looked back over his shoulder and watched the cogs turn almost visibly in the witch's head before she came to a decision of some kind. “Severus Snape, you owe me, and I'm calling in that favour.” Now he half turned to her, raising his infamous eyebrow.

“I,” and here she paused to swallow nervously. “I want you to make love to me.”

“Mistress Granger, as I know you are neither deaf nor stupid, I can only assume that you are now making fun of me,” Severus said with a dangerous growl.

“Oh gods, Severus, it's not like that. Please forgive me, I really, really, want to be supportive of you like you have been of me, but 'never make love to you as a man should'? You don't need a working prick to make love to a woman, there is so much more you can do.”

“Yes, well, thank you for that pearl of wisdom,” he bit out, wishing he hadn't stopped to listen to her.

Now she huffed at him and stood with her hands on her hips, apparently forgetting her bodice was still open. It took a full second for him to wrench his eyes back up to her face, but he hoped she'd not noticed. There was a smug smile on those delicious lips.

She'd noticed.

“Seriously, Severus, if I wanted nothing more than a quick fuck I'm sure I could find any imbecile to get under my robes, even if I mostly insisted I kept them on. That's not what I want. I came to you because I was hoping for more than that, a mature attitude and a man who was willing to put in the time and effort to look past my problems and make me feel,” and here she paused, reaching for inspiration. “I don't know, special, cherished, a prize rather than a goal? Something more than a pair of tits and a warm hole to poke.”

At this point Hermione had obviously run out of steam, and began to look unsure of herself again. Severus thought hard, and fast. Yes, he probably knew more than most wizards about the ways to touch a woman, to please her, even make her come without penetration – it was his camouflage for years, after all. But most of that had been an act, going through the motions and getting his own pleasure later, if at all. Could he do that to Hermione? No! But for Hermione? Could he bring her pleasure, perhaps let his own feelings of desire wash over her and truly make love to her like she was asking for? He sighed; if only...

Before he could change his mind, Severus span the rest of the way around and strode towards her. She stood looking like a rabbit in headlights, and he took her lips once again, with some force this time. She gasped, and his tongue struck straight into the opening offered as his hands cupped her head, fingers thrusting into her hair. He backed her against one of the plentiful bookcases and held her in place with a knee pushed between her slightly parted legs. Feeling her hands reach up to his biceps, perhaps to restrain him, he took the opportunity to break his assault of her.

Lipping light kisses from the corner of Hermione's mouth, along her jaw and up behind her ear, he asked huskily, “is this what you want, then? Is this what you think you have asked me for?”

It was a chance for her to back away, to decide that maybe she should push him out the door and ask for something a little safer, a little saner, but the spark in her eye and flush across her cheekbones told him even before her words.

“Oh, yes, Severus. This and so much more,” she fairly purred before turning to him and biting gently on his earlobe. He growled at her once again, but not in anger this time. His open mouth connected with the junction of her neck and shoulder and sucked deeply, causing a shudder to run through her. He felt her drop her weight onto his knee and reach up to run her fingers through his hair in turn. Seizing his chance, Severus finally got his hands on her breasts, coming up to heft and gently roll the weight of them before his thumb and forefinger stretched out to pinch the already pert nipples through the thin satin of her bra.

Hermione took a hissing intake of breath and scratched her nails across his scalp, just like he'd fantasised she would all those times. He started to move his mouth down her sternum, only to feel her tense up. Damnation, he'd almost forgotten her feelings about her looks. Before the mood broke, he risked his back to stoop and grab her around the back and knees, swooping the short distance to her bedroom door. Thankful that he was still comparatively active, Severus used silent, wandless magic to click the catch so he could kick the door open dramatically and crossed to her bed in two strides, where he lowered her feet to the ground once more.

Raising the light level a little so he could see what he was doing but allowing Hermione a little respite until she felt safe with him, Severus reached forward to finish unbuttoning her dress to below the waist. Dragging his hands up and along her shoulders, he eased the fabric back and down until it started to fall from her. Shame forgotten, Hermione quickly tugged the sleeves over her wrists, then turned to him. Once again she reached up to kiss him, and as their lips slanted slowly across each other it was her turn to run her hands up his chest, though his was still covered by his shirt. His shirt? A glance down spotted that his frock coat already lay open, and the smile he felt told him all he needed to know. He would have to find out where she learned that particular spell – later.

Now Severus was reaching the end of his experience. There was certainly more he'd learned over the years, but never in the situation this was leading to. The witch he would have loved to have as his own was looking into his eyes hungrily before kicking off her shoes and crawling onto her bed clad in nothing but simple, pale underwear. How an inexperienced woman like herself turned into some kind of temptress he didn't know, but he dropped his coat to the floor with her dress and toed off his own shoes and socks before joining her.

It was that inexperience that would work in his favour, Severus hoped. They united in a playful chuckle as Hermione pulled his shirt off over his head, forgetting the cuffs in her haste and then pretending to hold him bound by it as they both kneeled on the bed and kissed once more. This was the potentially awkward part, and he hoped things would be fine. She was quiet as her eyes and fingers followed the track of the few scars that had been too bad to fully heal over the years; there were some on his torso, and the neck, of course. She couldn't see the remainder on his back yet, but just as he thought she was coming to accept things she held up his left arm and the silvered Dark Mark.

He hadn't often let anyone get this far. Severus knew she knew, but seeing the thing, even in its quiescent state, was another matter. Others had had problems with it. His breath hitched, and he felt a muscle twitch involuntarily as Hermione stroked his forearm with gentle fingertips. Wondering if this was where she came to her senses, he was surprised when she moved to trace the scarring on her own arm and then look intensely at him.

“If this doesn't bother you, Severus, then rest assured that yours no longer bothers me,” Hermione's voice was low but strong, sure, and suddenly Severus caught her up and laid her down, wanting nothing more to worship her in that moment. She'd come to him looking for acceptance of those parts of herself she couldn't change, but he hadn't realised he'd been looking for something like it himself until she offered it freely.

Bare to the waist, he moved to take off her bra, struggling only slightly with the hooks before throwing it away and finally getting his mouth on her breasts, licking and kneading and gently biting one then the other, listening to her sighs and whimpers for clues. Burying his face between them he followed the line down to her navel, swirling his tongue in it briefly and feeling Hermione start to twitch and writhe under him. Finally, he reached down and removed her knickers to look at her, gently moving her knees apart as she automatically tried to close them. As she still seemed interested if nervous, he realised once again how her past lovers had failed her, driven by only their own needs.

Severus lay on his side between her legs as she looked down at him. He noted that, apart from a little trim along the bikini line, she kept her pubic hair natural, but at least it wasn't as wild as the hair on her head could be at times. This close to her he could smell her warm arousal, and he gently parted her lower lips and ran his fingers through the moisture that leaked from her. Bringing those fingers to his nose caused her eyes and mouth to widen slightly, but she groaned erotically to see him suck the juices into his mouth. He gave a feral grin as her eyes drifted closed for a moment, and dove forward to attach his mouth directly to the source.

He had performed this service from time to time, usually tucking his head under robes in situations when more than a little groping and fingering was called for. Now he applied his lips and tongue to Hermione's cunny, watching her reactions from his position between her legs as he used his tongue to lick her inner lips and tease around her entrance, thrusting it slowly in and out of her as he moved onto his belly to get a better angle. She tasted wonderful, he thought. Severus growled into her folds as her thighs tried to tighten involuntarily around his head and her fingers tugged on his hair, but that only seemed to make it worse.

He took a moment to figure out the best way to pin her down and still have access to do what he wanted to do, then applied himself once more. This time he slid a finger into her quim and rubbed it just so while he sucked on the angry-looking clit that had been standing out and waiting for his attentions. Hermione shrieked at the new sensations, and Severus spent a while showing her what he could do as he alternated between sucking and strumming with little flicks of his tongue across the sensitive nubbin.

When he paused for a moment to catch his breath, Severus felt Hermione's internal muscles gripping his gently thrusting finger. He added another, and Hermione moaned her approval, moving her hips rhythmically as he increased the speed and pressure slightly. He took time to enjoy the view of her from this angle, and a groan of frustrated desire tore from him as he saw her fondle and tweak her nipples while she gripped harder around his fingers.


Suddenly she stopped and tried to sit up, but he still effectively held her legs pinned wide. Had he hurt her or done something wrong? The look on her face spoke less of pain but more of compassion than passion, and her eyes were fixed on his face – or as much of it as was visible above where he had it buried in her muff.

“Severus, are you okay? You sounded, um, distressed or something,” she asked breathlessly. He hummed his assurance across her, watching her eyes flicker with pleasure for a moment, but she was not to be put off. He sighed quietly and propped himself up a little higher on his elbows, taking the opportunity to stroke her her furry mound in gentle appreciation.

“It is nothing to worry about, it is just that I can still feel a great desire for you, even if I cannot express it... physically. I very much want this, want you, my lovely Charms Mistress, but I'll need to give you what you have asked for first before finding my own release, later.”

It looked for a moment like she wanted to say something else, but he stilled her by raising an eyebrow, surprising himself when it worked, considering his position. Perhaps it was time to speed things up a notch – she had been close to coming a couple of times, it seemed, but he'd not been able to help her topple over the edge. Severus found he really was enjoying himself, despite his usual frustrations, and was invested in giving Hermione an experience she deserved but had been denied. He knelt up, and urged her a little higher on the bed.

As she reclined he moved to her side and reached for her breasts once again, lightly kneading and jiggling the flesh. Taking one nipple in his teeth while he pinched the other, he gently pulled on them, then swapped. Hermione was leaning back on her elbows, licking her lips while she watched, but soon dropped her head back onto her pillow as he began sucking open mouthed across each of them in turn as he snaked his hand back down to finger her quim once again. When her arms reached up to stroke and scratch at his bare torso, fingers slipping into his waistband, Severus started working her in earnest.

Thrusting his two fingers in while rubbing her clit with his thumb, it didn't take long to get her worked back up again, but she was still hanging there. Hermione seemed to need more, but even as excited as she was, she was still a little tight for him to comfortably consider a third finger yet. He didn't want to hurt her, and he found himself wishing once again for a working cock. This time, though, it wasn't just for his own pleasure; he sincerely wanted to give Hermione what she was obviously missing.

“Oh, Hermione, you have no idea just how wonderful you look, writhing, damp, and tasting just so delicious,” he crooned low as he attacked her neck once more, her hands now flung to the sides and bunching in the sheet. He knew his voice effected some women, and he could feel that Hermione felt the same way. He chuckled deeply, feeling her clenching harder as he did. “I'd love to bottle this, but why bother when I can enjoy the brew straight from the cauldron?” With this he ducked his head back between her legs, sucking and tonguing her clit while working his fingers just that little bit faster and deeper. This time Hermione screamed, bringing both her arms down hard across his back as her hips jerked up to mash his face against her and damn near breaking his fingers and nose with the force of her orgasm.

Severus eased off, letting her relax back onto the mattress almost bonelessly but with a smile on her face. He relaxed too, leaning up on his elbow as he lay turned to her on his side. Eventually she pulled her legs together and stopped gasping for breath, and he reached across to kiss away a salty drop that ran down her face from the corner of her eye, but couldn't tell if it was sweat or a tear. Hermione closed her eyes but rested a hand gently on his chest. “Stay,” she breathed out before sated sleep took her. Severus watched, seriously considering waiting until she was deeply under and slipping out to his own quarters, maybe making use of the fresh memories and a little motion lotion, but in the end he only slipped off his trousers and covered them both over with the bed-cover. Any fallout would happen wherever he awoke, after all.
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