FIC: One Night Only... or Not

[hikorichan]

Title: One Night Only… or Not
Author: Anonymous for now
Summary: Severus and Hermione engage in a one night stand, or so they thought.
Prompter: hikorichan
Prompt: It was supposed to be only a one-night stand.
Warnings/Content: Strong sexual content (it's the smut fest after all!), oral sex, rimming, light bondage.
Notes: Thank you to TASM and VB for the beta and Brit pick!!

Read on AO3 / Read on Livejournal


Severus Snape sat at a table in the corner of a Muggle pub, flicking the ashes off his cigarette, missing the ashtray completely, and then throwing back another shot of whisky. He held the glass his in fingertips, enjoying the burn that travelled down to his stomach, before dropping it onto the table as he surveyed the dance floor. It was smoky, as was the entire pub. The band was pathetic; the guitar was too loud to overcompensate for a singer who couldn't sing and a drummer who couldn't keep rhythm. The voices of old and young alike were too loud. He snorted in disdain as he heard asinine conversations about who was shagging whom.

For all the noise and smoke and idiotic conversations, he liked it. He had anonymity; no one knew who he was and he could linger for hours without being bothered. The whisky was cheap, not top shelf, but when all you wanted to do was to get drunk, then did it matter? Best of all, he knew that there were no masters to obey, no one to infringe upon his hard won freedom. Yes, he totally enjoyed the fact he could continue to hide in the relative privacy of his table and get pissed until closing hour, or as he was contemplating tonight, he could find a woman and take her home.

He looked over the crowd again; there must have been a rugby match nearby since there were a lot of young men and women here. It had been a few months since he'd bedded a woman, and he had several to choose from tonight. His hand was always obliging if the need was great, but there was no comparison between a wank and sinking his cock into a soft, wet, willing cunt.

His modus operandi was always the same; single out a somewhat desperate looking woman, ask her dance, and then take her to his flat. The desperate ones always said yes to a dark stranger with a gravelly voice who whispered naughty things into their ears. There would be no cuddling afterward; just a call for a taxi and enough money for her to pay the driver.

Once they arrived at his flat, he would surreptitiously cast a Contraceptive Charm and then begin stripping her clothes off. He was rather perfunctory; kissing just enough to tease, playing with her tits (Merlin, he loved tits) while using his fingers to stroke her quim. He'd encourage the woman to flip onto her hands and knees and then enter her, pounding so hard she'd scream. He never wanted to see their face once the actual fucking began. No….that would completely ruin the image of the woman he was actually fucking in his mind.

He filled his glass again, taking a long drink rather than throwing it back. Gods, he was a sick fuck. How long had he been lusting after her? After the war? Before? Yes, yes…he remembered now; before the war, probably in her sixth year. Being a year older than the rest of her classmates, she had blossomed into womanhood sooner than the others. He remembered she had left the school at the end of her fifth year a skinny, round faced, bushy haired, buck toothed, tiny titted (Perhaps they had been large? Those Merlin-forsaken school robes obfuscated everything), little witch. When she returned in September of the next school year, she had changed. She was taller, had learned to tame her hair, and her teeth had been fixed; he had remembered that her parents were dentists.

The biggest change was in her body. He had remembered his reaction to that first moment in Defence class when they all took off their robes in order to practise duelling. He had hardened at the sight of her, and that was not nearly as disturbing to him as it should have been. She had a lovely small waist that sat atop flared hips and long legs. Her skirt was just this side of being out of regulations; perhaps she'd need a detention to correct this infraction? He had hardened further. He had moved his eyes upward again to her blouse. It strained over a pair of large luscious tits. Gods would he like to slide his cock between them. Even now, years later, he got hard just thinking about squeezing those globes of warm flesh around his cock until he came all over her chin. Her arse was gorgeous and begged to be kneaded, spanked even, as it was fucked. In his head, she was willing to do everything he asked her to do and a few things he hadn't.

A commotion at the door of the pub drew his eyes away from his intended targets this evening. Several women entered, laughing and smiling. At first, he couldn't see their faces, but as they moved from the door his heart sank. Christ…Lovegood, the Weasley girl, was that Abbott and a Patil twin? What the hell were they doing in a Muggle pub? The four women turned when the door opened again and another woman breezed in, apologies ringing about being slow.

Severus' stomach clenched.

Fuck.

It was her.

Hermione Granger.

He needed to leave, wanted to leave, but he couldn't move. He watched as the girls—no, women now; it's been eight years after all—looked around for a table. Patil spotted one and pointed, grabbing Lovegood to lead them to it. Hermione stood by the table, laughing and talking. She turned and went to the bar; it looked like she was buying the first round.

On her way back to the table with their tray of drinks, she turned her head in his direction. A small change in gait and widened eyes were all he needed to observe to know she saw him.

It was now or never, he thought. I can just leave and never come here again. There were hundreds and hundreds of Muggle pubs throughout Britain, and Apparition made each one just a quick turn away.

He never moved.

---

Hermione pushed open the door to the Muggle pub. Why Luna wanted to go to Muggle establishments for her hen night was anyone's guess, but this was the third one of the evening, and hopefully the last. Luna and Rolf Scamander had been dating for years and only now decided to tie the knot, hence the hen night and various Muggle pubs.

She was tired. She did not socialise as much as she used to; her idea of a splendid evening was some friends to her flat for board games, pizza, and a few pints. She occasionally spent time with the Potters and even babysat of an evening so Harry and Ginny could go out.

She worked with Luna at St. Mungo's; she as a Healer and Luna as a recreational therapist on the Thickney ward. Luna had begun working at St. Mungo's once her world travels were completed. The girls had lunch every day together. Hannah and Parvati she knew from school and work at St. Mungo's in various administrative departments. Hannah had a steady boyfriend in Neville Longbottom, and Hermione suspected they would marry in the next few years. Parvati enjoyed playing the field.

Hermione's own love life was mediocre. After she and Ron called it quits in a very friendly way, she only dated now and again. Her problem was that she compared them all to him, and they all fell very short. They did not like her being dominant in bed. Not that she wanted to be a dominatrix, but she certainly did not want a 'wham bam thank you ma'am' sort of encounter. She wanted what she wanted and that was varied. Some of the men were okay with spanking her, some absolutely refused to eat her cunt or rim her ass. A few were okay with role play. A few attempts at bondage were met with ineptitude or scorn.

She had no idea what he might be like in bed, but given his darkness, she was confident he would not only lead in bed but acquiesce to any demand for sexual variety.

She remembered clearly the moment she decided she wanted him. It was in their first Defence class of sixth year. She had changed over the previous summer, she knew. She was happy with her changes and subtly—or perhaps not, now she thought about it—played up those changes. When she noticed him looking at her like she was the most delicious bit of roast on the platter, she began to notice him and now that her interest was piqued, notice she did.

He was tall and she liked that. Viktor had been tall, Ron had been tall. The blokes she dated had all been tall. With the exception of Ron, they all had dark hair, she realised now. And thin. They were all thin but well muscled.

She knew he was well muscled because about two weeks after she began noticing him, he had removed his robes during class while they practiced duelling. He had challenged Harry to a duel—out of spite most likely—and when it was over, she had been embarrassed to discover she had not paid one whit of attention to Harry's performance, but to his, and the end result was that her knickers were quite damp.

She had wondered what he'd be like in bed. She had lost her virginity over the summer—not to Ron, but to an old friend who lived a few houses away—and enjoyed the few times she played with Brian. These encounters sparked her very curious brain to become familiar, even as a seventeen-year-old, with all sorts of books and articles about sex and its various practices. When she thought about him, she wondered if his cock would be thick and uncut? Would his balls be heavy with seed just waiting to pulse warmly into or onto her? Would he like to be sucked off? Be rimmed? Would he be selfish (not a bad thing occasionally) and just shove his cock into her, ready or not, and pound her within an inch of her life? Would he want to tie her up and spank her? Or the other way round? As time passed and her experiences with sex grew, her fantasies of him grew as well. But she figured that's all they would be…fantasies.

After the war, no one heard a peep from Severus Snape, who surprisingly survived. He was given an Order of Merlin, First Class, and its accompanying stipend while still in hospital. Once he was released, it was as though he fell off the earth. She had gone to Manchester, to his last known address to find that Spinner's End and its environs had been replaced by a small shopping centre. Since then, there were reported sightings in the Prophet, but like the elusive dead Muggle singer, Elvis Presley, that's all they were…reports.

So when she was returning to the table with the tray of drinks and chanced a glance to her left, she stumbled a bit upon seeing him for the first time in eight years.

Severus Snape.

In this pub.

Looking as delicious as ever.

She would not leave without him tonight.

---

He watched as she set down the drinks and then sat, seeming to manoeuvre her chair so that she could see him. She would glance at him occasionally while laughing and chatting with her friends. Lovegood suddenly stood, gesturing at the girls and pointing to the dance floor, but Hermione shook her head. Once the girls were occupied—and the men flocked like roosters in a coop to occupy them—she stood up and walked toward Severus' table.

"May I?" she asked, pointing to a chair.

Severus shrugged. "Even if I said no, you'd sit anyway."

"Right as usual, Professor," she answered as she sat and got straight to the point. "Where have you been hiding? The wizarding world has not heard or seen you in eight years."

"Still a nosy bint, aren't you?" he growled.

"I was never a nosy bint, Professor, just a curious woman."

"I'm no longer a professor." He blew the smoke from his cigarette at her.

"What shall I call you then?"

"I have a first name, I am sure you know."

"Yes, Severus, I do know," she said softly.

The sibilant way his name dripped off her tongue should not have been that erotic to him, but his stomach clenched at the sound. "I haven't been hiding at all. The magical world is just too stupid to look beyond the end of its wand when looking for someone. They refuse to consider the Muggle world, don't they?"

"So hiding in plain sight then, eh?" Hermione asked.

"Ten points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger. Or it is Mrs. Weasley? Mrs. Potter perhaps?"

"I see the years haven't made a dent in your ability to charm the ladies, Severus. It's Granger. Ginny is married to Harry; although that should come as no surprise. Ron and I broke up many years ago, quite amiably, in fact."

"No other wizard catch your eye then? I'm surprised you haven't got men running after you. Or perhaps you bend the other way?" He leered at the thought of her with another woman.

"And you're still rather rude, as well," she remarked, lips twitching. "I don't bend 'the other way' as you so delicately put it, not that there's anything wrong with that."

"What are you doing in a Muggle pub with your very magical friends?" He took a sip of his whisky, set it down and touched the bottle in front of him. "Drink?"

Hermione nodded, and he poured her two fingers.

Taking a sip, she answered, "It's Luna's hen night, and she wanted to go to Muggle pubs. This is our third, and hopefully last."

"You're too young to be too tired to party, Miss Granger," he said.

Hermione drained the last of her glass, and he offered another tip from his bottle. She handed over her glass, and he poured another shot.

"Call me Hermione," she said as she took her glass back. "And I'm not tired at all; I just don't do pub crawls." She sipped her drink and said, "Gods that band is horrid."

"I agree; however, I don't think that the crowd cares. As long as there is music, they'll attempt to dance to it."

Hermione snorted and took a long drink of whisky. "You've got that right. In all of the pubs we've been at, all the others have wanted to do is dance, however horrid the music. Parvati is looking to hook up, Ginny is just happy to have time away from the kids. Hannah is the 'DD', and Luna is well…Luna."

"What is 'DD'?" asked Severus.

Hermione reached over, boldly plucked a cigarette from his pack and lit it before answering. "Designated Driver. It's the person who doesn't drink to make sure all the rest of the drinkers get home safely."

Severus shrugged. "Apparition does me all right."

She took a drag of her cigarette. "You have more than likely Apparated after being Crucio'd to within an inch of your life and with gaping wounds. I suspect Apparating while drunk is first year Charms by comparison."

Severus lit another cigarette. "That's true. So what are you here for tonight, Miss Granger?"

"Hermione, please. I'm a good few years beyond student protocol now, don't you think?"

Severus nodded.

"I'm here because I'm the maid of honour. It would blot my copy book if I let the bride get too carried away."

The pair looked over at the dance floor. Luna was dancing among the crowd, no specific partner to be seen, but a group of young men seemingly bewitched by her ethereal charm hovered around her.

"She's not Imperioing them, is she?" Severus asked; he sounded a bit concerned.

Hermione threw her head back and laughed. Severus stared at her creamy long neck and wondered what it would be like to run his tongue along the cords of muscle that stood out. His cock wondered, too.

"You would think so!" Hermione said. "She's had this sort of reaction from men all night. No, I think it's her ability to leave behind all her cares and concerns. The men can sense that. It draws them." She poured herself another drink and filled Severus' glass as well.

The moment or two of silence between them felt awkward, and the couple pointedly looked out at the crowd on the dance floor. Impulsively, Hermione asked, "Do you want to dance?"

Surprisingly, Severus said yes. The couple stood and went to the floor, finding a small spot near the edge. The band was butchering a slowish number. Hermione wrapped her arms around Severus' neck, and he placed his hands at her waist. Turning in circles, they did not look at each other, but at the couples around them.

A few were dancing very close, gyrating their hips in an obvious invitation. Others were standing far enough apart to leave room for the Holy Spirit, and still others were doing a good job of showing off their dancing lessons. Hermione snorted and Severus looked at her inquiringly.

"It's fun to watch the couples, don't you think?" She pointed and Severus looked.

"What do you mean?" Severus asked.

"Well, as I am sure you have observed, given your years as a spy, each one of them is here for something. Some for fun, some just for a drink, some to get pissed, and some to get laid. They're broadcasting it, and even though they're looking for it, it looks, well, desperate."

Severus snorted. "Desperate can be good sometimes."

Hermione looked at him with interest. "Perhaps. Last call does make for some rather rash decisions."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Yes," she said truthfully. "You?"

"A few times."

"And what about tonight?" Hermione asked seriously.

"The thought crossed my mind," he answered.

They silently continued their slow rotations when Hermione asked, "What if I offered to go home with you?"

He pulled away from her, looking at her incredulously. "You are obviously drunk or fucking insane. You? The Princess of Gryffindor? Go home with the Greasy Bat of the Dungeons? What would your friends think?"

He could see from the glint in her eyes and the smirk on her face that she was not afraid of him.

"I've been going home with you in my head for years now, Professor." Her use of the title was deliberate. "In many and varied ways, too. And I don't kiss and tell…ever."

Severus decided to take the bait; to see if she was as willing as she seemed to be. Leaning in, he whispered in her ear, "I don't play nicely. I play rather roughly. Some women can't handle it."

"Trust me, I can handle it."

Severus laughed throatily. "Really? What if I wanted to tie you up so that you had no control as I fuck your mouth? What if I wanted to fuck your arse and not your quim? What if, little girl, what if?" he asked with a growl.

Hermione grabbed Severus' collar and pulled him to her. Kissing him roughly, forcing her tongue into his mouth, sucking, stroking, and then biting his lip until he tasted his own blood, she answered, "As long as you don't play nicely, I'll come home with you."

"What about your copy book?"

"Fuck my copy book. Better yet, fuck me."

Severus pulled her close to his body, grinding his already hard cock into her pelvis. "Oh, I plan, too, Miss Granger, I plan too."

---

"I need to stay goodbye to my friends," said Hermione quickly. "I'll meet you outside."

Moments later, Hermione opened the pub door and was grateful for the cool breeze that blew over her. Her head was spinning and not just from the drink. She was going to sleep with, no—fuck, Severus Snape! She nearly giggled like a school girl at the thought. She hoped it would be all of her fantasies come true.

"Just how many fantasies are there?" asked Severus, who had joined Hermione at the door.

"Are you using Legilimency?" She scowled at the man.

"How else do you expect me to cater to your desires this evening? Especially since you want me to play dirty. The Apparition point is over here," he finished, leading her by the hand along the pavement for about fifty yards and turning into an alley. "Yours or mine?" he asked.

"Yours," she said breathily.

Before he turned into the Apparition, he forced her chin up and kissed her roughly, teeth nipping and tongue seeking. A moan escaped her just as he turned them, and in a trice, they landed in the centre of his living room.

His lips left hers, and he proceeded to kiss her creamy neck. She smelled and tasted as sweet as he had hoped. His hands ran along her arms, beginning at her wrists and ending at her shoulders, where he slipped Hermione's handbag from her shoulder and dropped it on the floor. Her coat followed quickly after.

"Which fantasy first, Miss Granger," he hissed between kisses. "I saw several delightful ones, including your reaction to my fucking your face while you're on your knees, hands tied behind your back." As they were kissing, he was moving them slowly toward his bedroom, and by now, her blouse was off.

Hermione, her brain having finally caught up with her libido, laughed throatily and answered, "Perhaps giving you a blow job would be a good idea. It will help you last later. I do so enjoy a very long fuck."

Severus growled at the apparent aspersion cast upon his ability to last, and he roughly turned Hermione around and shoved her over the dining table, slamming his hips into her jean clad bum. "Don't you worry, my pet," he said, "I will leave you thoroughly fucked and covered in come before we are done."

Allowing her to stand up again, Hermione began to undo the buttons on his shirt. She was fumbling with his belt when he pulled his hands away.

"Oh, no, little lion. We're going to take care of one fantasy first." He pulled her into his bedroom and with magic, had the rest of her clothes off. "Turn around," he ordered and she moved to obey. "Close your eyes and stand still; I need to get something."

The sound of rustling filled the air. He padded quickly back to the nude woman, ran his hands down her shoulders and then pulled her arms behind her.

"I can smell you already," he said and to prove his point, ran his fingers between her legs. "You're dripping," he noted and offered her his fingers. "Suck them."

She opened her lips, and he pressed his fingers inside. He hummed in pleasure at the warmth of her mouth and the sucking motion she provided. "You are a dirty little girl, my pet. We shall have fun tonight."

Turning her around, he began to push her to her knees and was pleased when she eagerly knelt, a smile on her face when she looked up at him. Once she was in place, he began to unbuckle his belt, thrusting his still clad pelvis against her face. He held the back of her head and pressed it to him. "I can't wait to see my cock in that mouth," he said. "For so many years I wanted to shut you up in class. Perhaps not this particular way, but it will be glorious to see your lips on my shaft." He removed his belt and then opened the placket of his trousers. He shoved them down just far enough to pull his cock out and was pleased with Hermione's reaction to his erection.

"Do you like it?" he asked, stroking himself. "Some women I've had in the past couldn't handle it either in their mouth or when I fucked them. Can you?" He was pressing the head of his cock against her face, enjoying the warmth and softness of her skin against his glans. He was not circumcised and carefully began to pull the foreskin back. "Bring that pretty little tongue out and lick the head, Miss Granger."

Hermione stuck out her tongue and, looking up at him, ran the tip along the velvety head. He held her head in place with one hand, the other holding his shaft as he pressed the tip of his prick between her lips. She had opened her mouth to take in more, but he growled, "Not until I tell you! Just lick my head for now. Oh yes," he moaned in response to her obedience. "Yessssss," he hissed. "Now, run your tongue under my foreskin. Yes, there you go."

He was enjoying Hermione's vocal appreciation and delight at what she was doing when he ordered her to open her mouth wider. "There you go, my siren," he said as she worked her tongue over his shaft, moistening it as he pressed deeper into her mouth. When he hit the back, she gagged slightly, but he was insistent.

"So few can do this; how far will you take it?" He didn't give her a chance to answer—not that she could with most of his eight inches in her mouth—but pressed again. He heard her exhale and then felt his cock slip partially down her throat. "Oh, my dear good girl," he purred. "Yesssss, you will take it. I'm going to fuck your face now, witch!"

He began thrusting slowly, alternating short thrusts with long pressing ones to deep throat her. When he gauged that she had relaxed enough to take his entire prick more or less smoothly, he picked up his pace. He wasn't totally cruel (his mind laughed at that thought) and allowed her a chance to catch her breath before plunging again as deeply as he could. He continued for several minutes, becoming harder and harder as he revelled in the wet noises filling the air, her intermittent gagging, and the purrs of pleasure she made when she could breathe. He looked at her face and laughed with joy as he took in her watering eyes and the amount of saliva coating her face. He reached down to wipe a corner of her mouth.

"What do you say we add something else to the mess on your face, hmm, my slut?" He no sooner ended his question than he thrust very hard twice, pulled out and came on her lips. Once his eyes opened after the initial burst of come, he sighed contentedly as she eagerly lapped at his head to make sure she got as much as she could. "Wipe your lips, my dear; surely your mother taught you to wipe your mouth after you eat?"

Hermione frowned at him and shifted her arms. "Oh, I beg your pardon," he said. "I'm still a bit out of it." He removed her ropes, and she used the back of her hand to wipe her mouth, falling sideways to the floor.

"That was fantastic," she panted. "Fucking amazing! I've always wanted to do that, but no one was really willing. They'd try it, but got afraid of the gagging…afraid they were hurting me."

Severus sat heavily on his four poster bed, ridding himself of his clothes as he did so, and motioned her over. She rose unsteadily and also dropped to the bed.

"Pfft," he said. "I told you I play dirty. Now, give me a moment, and I shall reward you for your very good work," he muttered somewhat sleepily.

He flopped back onto the mattress next to the witch. With his right hand, he lazily drew patterns upon Hermione's skin, smirking as he watched her skin pimple at his touch. He flicked each hardened nipple and then moved down her soft belly. He circled her belly button, dipping in momentarily, and she squealed. Laughing quietly, he moved his hand further down, stroking through her curls. He played lazily with the hair, pulling it out straight and then ruffling it back into a curly bounce of wiry fluff. He nudged her thighs a bit, encouraging her to open her legs to him.

"Your scent is overwhelming," he said. "I wish to taste you, but I am too comfortable where I am. Come and straddle my face, little slut."

Hermione moved to position herself. "I am very, erm, animated when my quim is eaten. I hope I don't break your nose."

"You'd better fuck my face; I'd hate to do all that work and not feel the results!" He gave her no time to answer as he took her arse in his hands and pulled her so she was directly over his face. "This is the prettiest little cunt I've seen in a very long time." He flicked his tongue out to her lips. "Such sweet lips; so pink and small. Tasty, too." He kept flicking his tongue, seeking her warmth and taste, not quite ready to get to serious work. She was squirming above him and mewling in frustration.

"Just fucking do it!" she demanded. "Ouch!" she exclaimed as his hand smacked her bottom.

"I will not taste you at all if you continue to order me about." He punctuated his displeasure by nipping her thigh. "This is one of my favourite things to do, and you will indulge me!" With that, he got down to the serious busyness of cunnilingus.

Hermione hardly dared to breathe, afraid she would miss one single moment of the way his tongue was pleasuring her. His mouth was hot and wet, his tongue hard and determined. He would alternate between pressing his tongue into her pussy hole rhythmically, as though it were his prick, and then just using the tip, like a marble, to roll around her entire pussy. She was especially enthusiastic, and told him so in words and by grinding herself into him, whenever he rolled his tongue around her clit. "Oh, fuck, yes!" she panted. "Don't you fucking stop, ever!"

She did apologize, however, when one of his fingers found its way into her arse and she gave an appreciate shove into his nose. "Keep that up, and I won't last long," she panted.

He backed his finger out and continued to lave her, alternating between long and short licks, his tongue pressing into her and then rolling around her clit. When he began to sense she was going to come, he pushed a finger back into her arse and then wrapped his lips around her jewel. Between long sucks and flicks of his tongue, a rhythmic thrust of his finger, she was grinding herself and chanting, "Yes, yes, yes!"

He thought she'd had passed out when her body suddenly went rigid, but her shout of, 'OH GODS!' relaxed him and he felt her body let go. Her legs trembled beside his chest and her hands grabbed his head, pulling it even closer. Her pussy spasmed, and he felt her muscles clenching and releasing, expelling her come at the same time.

When the first wave ebbed, he didn't stop but continued to suck and flick so that he stretched out her pleasure. Indeed, her first orgasm was followed by several smaller ones, each sending her pussy grinding into his face. She finally laughed breathlessly, calling, "Pax!" and fell sideways onto the mattress, a boneless heap.

Severus smirked as he wiped his face with the sheet. Rising on one elbow, he asked, "Have you had enough?"

Hermione looked blearily up at him. "Anything that happens now will have to be all your work. I don't think I'll ever function again. You could make millions if you did that to all the women in England."

He rolled over to lie partially on her body, and he kissed her neck, biting and sucking, leaving little marks. He pulled back and admired his handiwork. "I'd have to fix my face before any woman would come to me willingly and sober."

Hermione reached a hand up and stroked his cheek. "Don't sell yourself short, Severus. I may have had a few drinks tonight, but I am far from drunk. And unless you forgot our conversation in the pub, I came willingly."

Severus avoided the touchy, feely-ness of the moment by whispering in her ear, "What next, vixen? My cock needs some attention. How shall we sate it?"

Hermione made a show of thinking and then asked, "What say I tie you up and have my wicked way with you?"

Severus looked surprised. "Define 'tie you up', he said cautiously. He enjoyed a lot of play, but anything more than light bondage was not his thing.

Hermione stretched lazily and said, "Oh, nothing too painful. Just a test of will, shall we say."

"I've had enough testing of my will, witch; I'll not stand for it again," Severus snapped.

"Has anything about this evening with me so far led you to believe that I would hurt you in any way?"

Severus looked at her warily. "No, it has not."

"Then trust me that I only want to give you as much pleasure as you can take."

Severus looked at her, attempting to use Legilimency again, but her skills as an Occulmens was evident. Hermione giggled when she realised what he was doing. With a more seductive laugh, she said, "You've been a naughty boy, Severus. You must be punished."

Accioing her wand to her hand, she indicated that he should lie on his back with his head on the pillows. Once positioned, she flicked and swished and soft ropes had him bound, spread eagle, to the bed. With another flick, she conjured a long black feather. "Sometimes," she said, "pleasurable pain can be inflicted with the most subtle of objects." She ran the feather down his chest and tickled his belly button for just a moment. "Take this feather, for example. It is soft and delicate. You can hardly feel it on your skin, can you?"

Severus nodded.

"But, should I take it and circle your erogenous zones, it causes you so much pleasure that is at once desirable and wanted, and at the same time, you will die if it doesn't stop. Let me demonstrate."

She took the feather and lightly ran it just under his chin. While they had been snogging, she had kissed him there and noticed he moaned with pleasure. She watched as his eyes darkened, and he moved his head to press the feather between his chin and shoulder, hoping to get her to stop. With a slight tap on the nose with the feather, she admonished him.

"Ah, ah…no, Severus. You will have to endure. When I'm done, I shall have my chance in showing you what a good boy you have been."

She moved the feather, circling each areola and then tickling the underside of his arm. With delight, she noted he nearly giggled. She then moved it to his face, tracing his hairline, down his nose, around his lips and across his cheek, before tickling his ear. Again, he nearly giggled…well whooshed out air from his nose was a more apt description. Hermione doubted he truly ever giggled.

Quickly trailing the feather down his body and legs, she began to tickle his feet. He struggled at the ropes and asked her to stop. She ignored his request and moved up his legs, tracing the tip of the feather along his well-defined muscles. She was merciless to his inner thighs, alternating between firmer strokes and barely there touches.

Severus had managed to squirm his legs further apart, and Hermione zoned in on his sac, already heavy again with seed from the looks of it. She wiggled the feather around the soft skin, concentrating on that one spot where all men seemed to have no hair at all. It was one of her favourite spots to kiss when giving head. His cock was nearly fully erect; he had enjoyed the game, Hermione smirked and was struck by an idea. She loved to do this, but some men were too squicked out to let her try it.

"I'm going to untie you, but my game is not done. I want you to stand up at the end of the bed and face away from me. I'm going to tie your hands above your head and leave your feet free; I'd appreciate it if you didn't kick."

"What are you going to do, witch?" he asked suspiciously.

"Something I enjoy doing and hope you will enjoy it, too. Now, stand up."

He positioned himself and Hermione secured his hands above his head to the post. She sent a light charm over his entire body. "Are you comfortable?" she asked.

"Yes. What was the charm for?"

"To help you relax a bit; I promise you'll enjoy this very much." She began to use the feather again, concentrating on his more ticklish spots as well as the spots she found that turned him on. She went from head to toe in her pursuit of his pleasure, finally ending at his buttocks. "Spread your legs." He complied, but she further directed him to spread them further. "That's perfect."

She stroked the feather between his legs and dragged it along the cleft of his buttocks. Based on the resistance she met when she had the feather pressed between his legs, manoeuvring it upwards as she did, his shaft was fully erect. "Perfect," she whispered, and knelt down, dropping the feather.

With her hands, she caressed his legs, revelling in the texture of his hair against her palms. She rubbed his buttocks, eliciting a moan of appreciation from the man at her mercy and finally brought them around to the front, cupping his balls and then his shaft. "Your arse is lovely, Severus. I often wondered what it looked like beneath those robes when I was at school. You shouldn't hide such a perfect thing like this."

"There are laws regarding indecency even in the Wizarding world, little slut, as I am sure you well know."

"Oh, I do, I do." She pressed kisses to his skin, nipping, licking, and sucking alternately. After a bit, she asked, "Bend at the waist just a bit, won't you?"

As he obeyed, he asked, "What for?"

"Just wait; so impatient." She gave him a light swat and then pressed her face between his cheeks.

"What on earth are you YE GODS!" Anything else he might have asked was wiped from his brain as Hermione's tongue began to circle his anus. He was further made insensate when she brought her hands up to his shaft again and began to stroke.

Hermione smiled as she leant away a bit to take a breath. She pressed her face back into his arse and circled his puckered opening again. Then, and she couldn't wait for his reaction, she pressed her tongue into his passage. His sphincter reacted, automatically clenching to push the foreign object out, but Hermione worked her tongue in and out and eventually, he relaxed.

"ARGH! Gods, woman! Oh, that feels, Jesus Christ!" he babbled. Between the action of her tongue and her hands, he was there in moments. "STOP!" he cried.

Hermione immediately stopped. "Am I hurting you?" she asked concern in her voice.

Severus panted a moment before he answered. "No. It was fucking wonderful, but if I don't fuck your cunt right now, I'm going to go mad. Please, let me have you!"

Hermione stood and with a wave of her wand, removed the ropes. She was not prepared to be grabbed roughly by the waist and thrown onto the bed, but she recovered quickly and laughed as Severus covered her body.

"Open up witch, open up; I want to be inside you!" he growled, pushing her legs apart with his hips. As soon as he could fit his hips into the cradle of hers, he slammed into her.

Hermione shrieked, not in pain but with joy. She had so often wanted this sort of an animalistic, caveman-take-his-woman fuck, but many of the men she had slept with had failed in that regard. She grabbed his shoulders and held on for dear life. "Oh, fuck, yes! Harder, Severus, as hard as you can!"

"I'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't walk for a week," he replied, thrusting as hard as he could.

Hermione reached up and took a hold of his headboard, pulling her legs up over his shoulders. This caused him to sink even deeper into her. The new position also allowed her the leverage she needed to answer his thrust with one of her own. Letting go one hand, she reached down and flicked her clit. "Harder. Make me come," she gritted out through her teeth. "Oh, yes. Right there. There, there, there!"

Severus made sure to hit 'there, there, there' repeatedly. He was so turned on at the moment. Watching her flick her clit and knowing that she was taking all he could give was spurring him quickly toward his own orgasm.

All of a sudden, she stiffened and then screamed. He could feel her pussy clamp down on his cock and although it was difficult, he rode through her climax. He did not notice the usual warning fire at the base of his spine when his own orgasm erupted from him, blinding him momentarily.

His tremors had just subsided when Hermione's arms and legs flopped to the mattress. He dropped down as well, smothering her slightly until one brain cell fired in cognition that it might not be the going thing to crush the woman you just fucked unconscious. He carefully removed his cock, watching briefly as come slipped from her cunt, and dropped down beside her.

He kissed the side of her neck and then nudged her a bit to waken her. She mumbled something and fell back into unconsciousness. He waved his hand to run a diagnostic to make sure she was alright; it was normal, she was only sleeping from exhaustion.

He pulled the sheet up over them but was asleep himself before it drifted downward, conforming to their bodies.

---

An hour later, Hermione woke up, an urgent need low in her belly, forcing her out of bed. She was groggy and not quite sure where she was until she saw the man occupying the other side of the bed.

"Fuck," she said quietly and then remembered what they had done when she tried to walk. "I'll need a potion."

Hobbling to the bathroom, she quickly relieved herself and then took a flannel from the hook near the sink, warmed it in the hottest water she could stand, and pressed it against her tender flesh. Sighing in relief, she sat on the edge of the tub and thought about the last couple of hours.

Severus Snape was an amazing lover, and she certainly did not regret what had happened. She hoped there would be another round or two before he sent her on her way in the morning.

The thought made her sad. She had fantasised about him for years. Those fantasies helped her through some of the roughest, coldest nights when they were on the horcrux hunt. For a few moments in time, she was far, far away from the ramshackle tent, the boys' bickering, and the onus of her responsibility. For those few moments in time, she was in Severus' arms, being fucked out of her mind and on a very few occasions, making love.

Could tonight be the start of something more than a one night stand, she wondered. They had a similar intelligence, had a shared experience of the war, and were obviously sexually compatible. However, that's where it ended. She really had no idea who he was now. Would he want a relationship? What did he do for a living? Where did he live? Obviously in this flat, but where was this flat?

Her musings were interrupted when Severus lightly knocked on the door and opened it up and peered around. "Hermione?"

"I'm almost done."

Severus looked down between her legs and could see her holding the flannel. "Are you in pain? Did I hurt you?"

She smiled ruefully. "You did nothing I didn't want, Severus, but it has been a while since I was with someone," she trailed off.

"I've got a salve as well as a potion in the cupboard." He took the flannel she had handed to him. "Go lie on the bed, and I'll bring them. I need to, erm, use the…"

Hermione realised what he meant and blushed. She quickly stood. "Oh, of course, let me…"

They did a brief shimmy dance as each tried to get out of the other's way. The door closed quietly behind her as she fled to the bedroom.

Severus wasn't long in his tasks and returned to the bedroom, holding a flat tin and a small phial. "Here, drink this," he said, handing her the potion. Hermione downed it quickly. "Now, lie back against the pillows, and I'll apply the salve. It absorbs quickly, has no odour or, erm, taste, so if we should happen to continue in the same vein…"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Oh, we shall, Severus, we shall. I've been dreaming of this for so long, I'm not about to be a one and done!"

Severus chuckled. "Then allow me to render aid to my lady so that I might cater to her whims."

Hermione laughed merrily and spread her legs. She then sighed in relief as the salve cooled and relieved her discomfort. She watched as Severus capped the tin and set it on the bedside table. "Come here, Severus. I want to kiss you and then, I want to taste you in my mouth again. I could live on your taste and nothing else."

Severus chuffed out a laugh, and he moved to pull her into his arms. Pressing kisses to her lips and cheeks, he said, "I've another fantasy I'd like to fulfil."

"Oh?" she asked, nipping and kissing him in return. She had manoeuvred into his lap and was already grinding against his cock.

"Your tits. Good gods, they're amazing. I noticed them when you came back for your sixth year. My, my, the little miss know-it-all had grown up and into a pair of knockers that could make grown men cry with want to touch them."

Hermione leant back and with her hands, gathered her breasts and offered them up as though on a platter. "You mean these?" she asked, feigning an innocence Severus knew she didn't have.

"Oh, yes," he said, taking the proffered flesh. He leant down and took a nipple into his mouth and sucked hard. Hermione hummed with pleasure.

Popping off the nipple, he said, "Bliss. I have been thinking about these tits since then. I had visions of fucking them. I had visions of pressing my cock into your mouth as I fucked them, of coming all over your chin and tits. Roll onto your back, Miss Granger, I'm going to have my fantasy." He dropped her tits and smacked her arse so that she would remove herself from his lap.

She quickly rolled off and scooted to the middle of the bed, arranging herself among the pillows. Once settled, Severus straddled her belly.

Hermione welcomed the warmth of his thighs on either side of her, the gentle weight of his buttocks on her stomach, and the soft, shifting feel his sac. She giggled as the hairs tickled her skin. As he settled into position, she caressed his buttocks. "I am in lust with this arse. How could you have hidden it all these years? How long have you had such a gorgeous thing?" she asked.

"I was born with it," he glibly replied as he wrapped her breasts around his cock and sighed. For a moment he was still as their warmth enveloped his shaft and then he slowly began to rock, adjusting both his stance and his hold on her flesh. He soon had a rhythm going, and once he had maintained it for several minutes, leant forward on his knees so that he could press the tip of his cock against her lips. "Lick me!" he ordered and was pleased at how quickly her tongue moved to obey.

He began a new rhythm of thrusting between her tits and then leaning forward so that she could lick the tip. He would alternate between her licking and pressing slightly into her mouth so that her lips just were able to suckle at the end. He experimented with leaning even further forward for her to suck more of his shaft for several moments before leaning away and thrusting. Occasionally, he would let her tits flop back down and press his cock deeply with her mouth so that her saliva would coat his skin. He would then press the flesh around his cock again and thrust, the wetness allowing for a smoother movement.

This patterned continued for quite a while before the warning tingle in his spine let him know his orgasm was approaching. "Not much longer, slut. I'm going to soon come all over your face; try to catch as much as you can in your mouth."

"I can't wait to taste you, Severus! Please come; I need to taste you, please." She encouraged him softly to come and was rewarded with a grunt as he quickly wrapped his hand around his shaft to pump. Ribbons of thick, milky come shot out and splattered her chin. She opened her mouth and he aimed his cock at it. Some went in her mouth and some hit her cheeks and chin, just as he had hoped it would.

When his orgasm subsided, he leant back and sat carefully on her belly, his hand coming up to trail through the puddle of come that had pooled around her throat. Lifting a finger up, a string of thick liquid dripping from it, he offered it to Hermione who opened her mouth to receive it. She lapped and suckled his finger, moaning appreciatively.

Severus moved to lie beside her. "That was delightful," he said, flicking his fingers at her throat, a whispered incantation cleaning his essence from her.

Hermione snuggled closer. "Are there anymore fantasies you wish to fulfil tonight?"

"Not at the moment. You?"

"I think I need a breather," she sighed. "Do you mind if I stay until morning?"

"I don't mind. Who knows…one of us may think of a fantasy that needs to become reality before dawn."

Hermione laughed softly. "Perhaps."

Silence filled the room. If asked later, neither would be able to say they knew when the other fell asleep, for they both drifted off at the same time.

---

It was very early, not quite sparrow fart, but close. Severus, used to having his bed to himself was startled awake when he rolled to his right and encountered another body on his mattress. Opening his eyes, the spell to Accio his wand at the ready, he realised it was Hermione.

He snorted quietly. The Golden Girl of Gryffindor was a kinky bitch and in his bed. Who'd have thought? When he took her up on her offer, he figured she was all talk; maybe the standard kink of some light bondage and a few positions other than missionary, but when she stuck her tongue up his arse, he knew he might possibly be in trouble.

He realised, to his confusion, that the urge to get the woman out of his bed and into a taxi in fairly short order was not pressing upon him. Usually, after the first round of sex with a partner, it was pretty much done; there had only been a few up to the challenge of a second round of sex with him. And he was certainly not one to cuddle. There was no 'stay until morning' with him. So why had he said yes to Hermione? Was it the sick desire to exorcise her from his system so that his conscience could be absolved of his fantasies about her from when she was a student?

She had matured into a lovely woman, he'd give that. Although he was no longer associated outwardly with the Wizarding World, he was connected to it through a complicated system of subterfuge involving an owl, two house elves, and a phoenix shaped post box attached to his porch. This meant that he got the news of the Wizarding World through his old friend, Minerva, and knew of Hermione's fast track career post Hogwarts: youngest ever Healer to head the Department of Magical Accidents; Highest NEWT scores in history, blowing even his scores into the ozone by one hundred points at least; first apprentice ever to complete a program in half the usual time. What he had not known, nor had Minerva revealed, was about her private life, until she briefly expounded upon it at the bar.

Hermione sighed next to him and rolled over. He looked down at her and was brought back to his original thoughts…toss her out in a few hours or let her stay?

Severus wasn't sure he could do a relationship, and he was unsure if she'd want to have one with him. He was older and had been so cruel to her in the past. He remembered now that she had intimated that she had been attracted to him for a long time. She would be a wonderful companion if they did decide to pursue something more than just one night. She was a driven as he was and as intelligent. Shared life experiences meant that there'd be no explaining why he was so scarred emotionally and physically.

He didn't think he was the sort to marry thanks to his childhood. He had no examples of what a good relationship or marriage should be. The Death Eaters marriages were for show only; political moves to climb up on the social scale and in the ranks that involved so much adultery that no one even blinked. He snorted and was glad it was de rigours among them given he had screwed Narcissa Malfoy pretty regularly. Arthur and Molly Weasley had probably the most stable marriage he knew among the purebloods, but—and he shuddered at bit at the thought—all those children…

Would she be up to a, what was it they called it now? A friends with benefits type of arrangement? That would certainly save him the hassle of finding a woman now and again and dealing with their 'won't I see you again?' moments.

He made his decision; if she desired another round of sex in the morning, he'd oblige. He'd make her breakfast and then tell her he had a lovely time, and ask about the 'friends' arrangement. If she said yes, they'd arrange a time to meet again and if not, he'd allow her Apparate from his sitting room and that would be that.

---

A few hours later, Hermione popped into her living room both angry and confused. Angry because she could not believe Severus would ask her to be at his beck and call (although he did try to diffuse the question by stating she could contact him when the need arose, infuriating her further) and confused because she thought they had connected.

The sex was out of this world, she remembered as she dropped onto her couch. She had never felt that close… that connected to anyone during sex. Even their quiet love making this morning was so in sync with each other it felt like a well practised dance. She had hoped that maybe there was something more than just a one night stand, especially when he asked her to stay for breakfast.

The lovely meal was ruined when he asked her about being 'friends with benefits'. She was so flabbergasted and then so angry she simply stood from where she was and Apparated.

She decided she just couldn't put any more effort into thinking about it at the moment. She did decide a long hot shower was just what she needed at the moment. Once she had dressed, she went to the ground floor of her flat block to pick up her post and then left the building to walk to a nearby outdoor café. She ordered a coffee and croissant and found a quiet table.

She was reading a letter from her parents when a shadow fell across the parchment. Looking up, she saw who it was. She quickly stood and made to leave. A hand on her arm stayed her.

"You have got some nerve; let me go," she hissed angrily.

"Please, we need to talk."

Hermione was furious. "I don't need to talk to you! You more or less called me a whore and wanted to arrange to meet me like…like a prostitute! I don't know what you thought last night was, but it certainly wasn't about me whoring myself to you!"

"You have every right to be angry, I was an incredible arse. But please sit. I wish to explain," Severus said earnestly.

"Why?" she asked. "I thought you've done night stands before? You know how they are supposed to end; usually quietly after breakfast, if not before."

Severus looked around. "You're making a scene; can't we go back to your place?"

"How did you find me, anyway?"

"This is the Muggle world; it's easier to find people. A few clicks…" Hermione raised her eyebrow and Severus dropped his gaze. "I followed your magical signature."

"How could you have followed my signature if you don't live near me enough to find its source? I'm not even sure where you live."

Severus looked back up and into her eyes. "That's the problem."

Hermione plopped into her chair and waved him to sit as well. "What's the problem? My magic?"

"Your magical signature."

"How is that a problem?"

"After you left, your magical signature remained emblazoned all over my flat." He hesitated a moment and said, "And me."

"So?" she huffed. "Give it time, it'll dissipate."

Severus ran a finger along the edge of the small table they sat around. He looked at his fingertip and wiped away the dirt. He asked, "How much do you know about sex magic?"

Hermione stood again. "If you're about to tell me we've bonded or are soul mates or some shit like that, you can just fuck off, Severus Snape!"

Severus leapt to his feet. "Let's go back to my place; we have a lot to talk about." He took her arm and gently led her down the street. "And for the record, I live in a small village called Hull. It's…"

"Yes, yes; it's in Yorkshire, I know. Let's go."

Once they rounded a corner, he pulled her into an alcove and then Apparated them back to his home. When she was oriented, she sat down in the nearest chair and waved for him to begin. "Please enlighten me."

Severus sat on his couch and looked at the very angry witch seated nearby. He noticed that her residual magical signature was now in harmony rather than discordantly flying about.

"You can imagine I was rather surprised to find your magical signature imprinted upon my home and me. Last night, while amazing, was supposed to be for just one night. My request of you this morning was more than tactless, I'll admit. Once you left, I didn't notice your signature immediately. I showered and had some coffee and that's when I noticed it. It was flying around my home and within me. It was all yellows and pinks, very discordant. The signature of your magic wouldn't settle at all. Although there was no sound, it felt to me like cymbals crashing."

"And now that I am here?"

He looked around the sitting room. "Now that you have returned, it is quiescent. All blues and greens. It's in harmony. I suspect if you leave again, without our having resolved the issue, it will become discordant again."

"So is that why you wanted me to come to your house?" she asked, her eyes wide with disbelief. "To make my signature happy so it would go away? You really don't know a thing about women, do you?"

"No, that is not why I wanted you to come home with me again. I wanted to explain to you why your magic imprinted upon my home in the first place!" Severus said through gritted teeth.

"Oh," said Hermione, rolling her eyes and crossing one leg over the other, "I can't wait to hear this."

"You know,' Severus sneered, "for a witch whose curiosity knew no bounds in school, I am surprised that you are being so flippant now."

The wind blew out of her anger, and she relaxed her position. "You're right; I'm being unreasonable. I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I can understand your anger. Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, please."

Severus hurried to the kitchen to prepare the tea. While he was gone, Hermione ran her wand along her body and was surprised to find Severus' magical signature intertwined with her own. How had she not noticed earlier if he had?

The man in question returned to the sitting room, tea tray in hand. He set it down and handed Hermione her cup. She smiled ruefully and thanked him. "While you were gone, I discovered that your signature has also imprinted on me." She took a sip of tea. "Please, explain to me what has happened."

"Sex magic is a branch of magic that is usually not discussed in polite company and considered to be Dark Magic by a majority of the population."

"Why's that?" asked Hermione as she took another sip of tea.

"Unfortunately, history has shown that purebloods tended to use sex magic to force less than willing brides to submit to husbands they did not choose or upon Muggles to submit to Wizards. The Dark Lord used it on many occasions. However, its original intent was not to enslave, ensorcel, or anything like that at all. It was supposed to enhance a couple's ability to enjoy their sex life and even, given the right conditions, increase fertility."

Hermione coughed into her tea, sending the liquid in her mouth dribbling down her chin. "Oh, good gods. I'm not sure I cast a charm last night!"

Severus chuckled and handed her a napkin. "That is one thing I made sure I took care of, Hermione. You've no fear of giving birth to the dungeon bat's baby."

Hermione wiped her chin. "It's not that; I just don't want a baby now."

Severus' eyebrows flew to his hairline, but he chose not to comment on it now. "Last night, our compatibility must have heightened our signatures' awareness of each other. Sex magic can be cast purposely, or as in our case, happen spontaneously."

"So what does that mean for us? Are we not able now to go on to other relationships?"

"Yes, we would be able to go to other relationships provided we part amicably so that the resonance of the signatures remains balanced. Our magical signatures being compatible means that should we choose to peruse a relationship and then marry, we would be bound for all time upon consummation of the wedding vows. Even if we do not pursue marriage, our relationship would come with, erm, certain perks."

Hermione almost laughed as she saw Severus Snape nearly blush. "So, Severus," she began teasingly, "what sort of perks are we talking about?"

"Last night was just a shadow of what our sex life would be like now that our magics recognise each other. If we are in an established relationship rather than a casual one, our magics will not only protect each other from harm but from interlopers as well, unless we, erm, ask them to join us."

Hermione gaped. "So you mean if someone hit on me, my magic would repel them?"

"Unless your intent is for them to join us, yes."

"I assume you mean that a threesome would have to be agreed upon by both parties."

"Yes."

"What sort of harm are we talking about?"

"I would imagine that should one of us be injured or feel threatened, the other would know. It would not, I believe, keep us free from death."

Hermione chewed on her lip a moment and then took a sip of tea. "So if I am understanding you, we are not soulmates and are not spontaneously bound. We can either pursue a relationship or part as friends."

"Yes, that's it exactly. What would you like to do?"

Hermione looked at Severus for a few moments, thinking about what she knew of him as she did so. A relationship with him would not be unwelcome, but she was hesitant, for his sake, to make the decision for the both of them. She took a deep breath and said, "I would not be averse to pursuing a relationship with you; however, I'm going to let you be the one to choose. So much of your life has been people telling you what you are going to do. Although we have not discussed what you've been up to for eight years, you do have your own life now…one of your choosing. I will not allow you to be roped into something you may not wish for." She stood up. "I am going to leave now. I am no longer upset or angry; you can be assured of that." She smiled and looked around. "No more discordant magic flying about your house. I, for one, am going to head home and see if your signature follows me. When you've decided what you'd like to do, you can owl or Floo me. You have a Floo?"

"For emergencies, yes. I'll owl you."

Hermione moved to the door, and Severus stood to follow. Before she opened it, she leant up and pressed a kiss the Severus' cheek. "Thank you for last night. You were everything I'd hoped you be; I'll always cherish it."

"Good day, Hermione. I'll be in touch."


One day later:
A large owl was sitting on the sill of Hermione's window when she arrived home from work. It was a busy day, resulting in her arriving home a little later than usual, and she hoped it hadn't been waiting long. She opened the window and the owl hopped in, flying to a chair and perching.

"Waiting for the reply, eh?"

The owl hooted softly as she took the parchment from its leg. "Here's a treat. Rest up a bit and then I'll send my reply once I've read the letter." She gave the owl a scratch behind its head and went to the couch to read her letter.

Dear Hermione,
I thought it would take longer for me to decide, but it seems, even though the magic is not supposed have done so, you have ensnared me. Come and see me this evening, little slut; I miss you already.

I do wish to pursue a relationship with you, and we will talk about this as well…at some point, I'm sure.

Yours,
Severus

p.s. If I ask nicely, will you do that thing with your tongue again?

Hermione burst out laughing with happiness. She turned to the bird. "There'll be no reply, my feathered friend; I shall Apparate you back to Severus' home with me."