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Severus’ fingers trailed up her skirt in the dark classroom as he pressed her against the blackboard. Her fingers were wrapped in his hair, tugging at the nape of his neck as she moaned into his mouth. She was sweet in every way; her mouth tasted like jasmine tea, her hair smelled of vanilla, and the taste of her arousal on his fingers as he sucked them into his mouth…just like honey.
“ Severus ,” Hermione whispered against his ear, kissing down his jaw as her hands pulled his lips back to hers. “ Please .”
It was the first time he heard her use his name. The first time he’d ever crossed so many lines with a student, even if she was nineteen. The boundaries blurred amidst the aftermath of war and loss, and a desperate need to cling to the life they’d both managed to escape with had attracted them like magnets dropped into a bowl, snapping together, flying towards each other with an organic inevitability. They were too similar to be kept apart. Too stubborn to let something as arbitrary as titles stop them. Not when they’d already sacrificed so much of themselves to the chaos of the last eight—or in his case, eighteen—years.
As he slipped into her for the first time, her legs wrapped around his waist, chalk dusting the back of her white button-down shirt, he thought he’d never seen eyes as beautiful as hers. A part of him he hadn’t realized was still fractured healed that night as he took the Head Girl against his classroom wall and felt her shatter in return.
There was no regret.
***
It went on like that for months, clandestine meetings during contrived detentions, sneaking her into his room through the floo, occasionally obliviating a wayward student who saw them exiting a classroom together late at night with hair and clothes obviously disheveled. He tried not to make a habit of such a risk, but the way she screamed his name, soaking his cock as he fucked her over the same desk he’d taught her at for years, made it exceptionally difficult to convince himself to stop.
He knew it was wrong, somehow. She was Hermione Granger. He was a former Death Eater. She was there to finish her schooling; he was supposed to protect her.
But she was an addiction he could not quit. She was medicine; she was poison. He wasn’t sure whether the sickness or the cure would kill him first.
And then the postcard arrived.
***
They’d sent a Christmas card with their faces on it, plastered in front of a fake tree and sandy beach background. Australia was incredibly warm that time of year. Though they called her Helena instead of Hermione, tears ran down her cheeks and a bittersweet smile adorned her face. He knew they didn’t remember everything about their life before, but she seemed content that they remembered her at all.
She held out the postcard towards him. “That’s my mum and dad.”
Severus looked at the couple on the glossy 4x6. Hermione was the spitting image of her mother—the curls, the tan, freckled skin, even the smile that played at the corner of her mouth like she had a secret. Her father, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. She did not have his nose, nor his hands, nor his eyes. It was as if he weren’t present in her at all.
Hermione’s eyes…they were gorgeous. He’d always thought so. And at the back of his mind, they were familiar.
They were her mother’s.
He couldn’t breathe.
Her mother .
A memory ripped through him as his gaze devoured the woman in the photo; she had aged a bit over the last twenty years, of course, but it was undeniable. She was unmistakably…her.
Severus felt his stomach churn.
“Hermione,” he whispered through a strangled sound.
She looked up at him from where she sat on the couch in his room, reading through other Christmas correspondence she’d received. She furrowed her brow. “What’s wrong?”
How could he tell her?
“I need you to leave.”
Surprise overtook her face at once. “What?”
“Get. Out .”
Her mouth hung open, clearly taken aback by the forthright disdain dripping from his lips.
“ Now .”
“No.”
He looked up at her, some of the ire in his throat loosening as he watched the little Gryffindor lioness hold her ground.
“What happened? What’s wrong?”
The thought of having to discuss his feelings at that moment at all was abysmal. The thought of having to discuss them with her , unthinkable.
But who else would he talk to?
“We can’t keep doing this,” he said in a low voice, still staring at the postcard now shaking in his hands.
“Severus—”
“Hermione.” He closed his eyes. “I know her.”
“My mum? What do you mean?”
He glanced at her finally, watching her face as it registered confusion, then shock, then horror.
“No.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“How? Are you sure?”
He looked away. “It was New Years. I was upset—Lily had announced her wedding and I—” He swallowed hard. “I stopped in a Muggle bar to get pissed, but when I saw her… She was stunning. I thought it would help. She was in a fight with her boyfriend or something, wanted to do something reckless. We, it was…quick. In the bathroom, and then I Obliviated her.”
He glanced up to see her eyes swimming with tears. “You…with my…but, that means—”
He handed her back the postcard. “You look nothing like him.” He looked at her again, more closely this time. There wasn’t a lot to recommend that she looked like him either. But still. “You could be mine .” His voice broke on the last word.
She shook her head vehemently. “No. Impossible. I, that would, I can’t.” She looked frozen, her hands gripping the edge of the seat. “I can’t be your—your daughter . I can’t. That would mean, it would mean…I can’t.” She looked at him, searching him for something. But where he expected to see nothing but revulsion, there was something in her eyes that felt familiar, but out of place.
Her pupils were enlarged.
She was aroused .
Severus’ breath hitched in his chest and her eyes fell to his mouth. She was breathing faster now, and she licked her lips. He could see the wheels turning, knew what she was about to do a moment before it happened.
“Hermione…we can’t.”
She crawled up onto her knees and swung her leg over his lap so that she was sitting on him, arms wrapped around his shoulders.
“Why not?”
Severus felt the war within his own body as his cock hardened beneath her while his mind screamed at him to stop touching this teenager who might be his own flesh and blood.
“We should do a test,” he said weakly as his hands skirted up her back, over her shirt and into her hair.
“If we do, and it says the wrong thing, you’ll never fuck me again.” She kissed his jaw. “And I need to feel you.”
He managed to use his remaining willpower to push her away from him, still holding her on his lap. “I need to know.” If I’m fucking my own daughter, I need to know .
Her lip trembled and he realized she was frightened.
“Hermione—”
“You are the only thing that has felt good since the war ended,” she confessed in reverent tones. “I can’t lose you too.”
He knew what she meant. She’d been a lifeline for him as well.
“Besides,” she shrugged, trying for a smile, “what would a test change?” She leaned in and spoke against his mouth. “You’ve already come inside me more times than I could count.”
He shook his head, pulling back from her teasing lips as she tried to latch her mouth to his again. “I have to know.”
She sighed in defeat and sat back, her shoulders slumping as she looked at her hands folded in her lap. “Get it over with, then.”
Severus pulled out his wand and performed a complex set of spells. But the result really had been clear before they’d started.
“You’re mine.” He said it monotone, matter of fact, as if it were nothing more than reading the weather.
“Apparently always have been,” she mumbled.
He looked into the eyes of the girl he had been losing himself in near daily for months, who he had come to care about, who was…related to him. And he should’ve felt repulsed, he should have immediately thrown her off his lap and run to beg whatever gods were listening for forgiveness for being inside the witch he helped to create. For enjoying it more than he had ever enjoyed a witch before.
But he didn’t. He didn’t push her from his lap or move an inch. He was afraid if he did, she would feel how hard his cock had grown despite the knowledge. Perhaps because of it.
Tears wet her eyes and he felt nothing but desire.
“Should I go?” she asked in a broken, small voice.
He froze. He knew that the right thing to do would be to have her leave—possibly even Obliviate her to save her from the knowledge that she’d been coming around the cock that helped make her. Who knew what psychological damage that could do?
But he couldn’t. He didn’t want to let her go. He was a selfish bastard after all, and the war had taken so very much from him. He deserved this one thing.
“No.”
Her stunned gaze locked with his and her small mouth parted on a gasp—a mouth he’d fucked many times. A pink tinge covered her cheeks and he didn’t care anymore. He had to have her. She was his . Undeniably. Irrevocably.
Severus pulled her face roughly towards his, his tongue slipping into her mouth with a dominance he usually tried to reserve lest he frighten her away, but she seemed entirely receptive to the intrusion. She moaned into his mouth, hands scrabbling for purchase on his robes. He was disgusted with himself, and harder than he’d ever been.
He pulled back and nipped at her jaw. “Is this what you wanted, little girl?” he growled. “You still want this, knowing you came from my seed?”
“Fuck,” she panted, throwing her head back as her breaths heaved in her chest, hand grabbing one of his to move it to her breast. “Yes.”
Her admission spurred him on and blood rushed to his already painfully hard length. “You still want my cock, Hermione?” He rarely called her by her name, but all rules had left the premises apparently. “You want to fuck your…your…”
“My dad,” she finished for him, eyes darkening until her amber irises were nearly gone. “I want to fuck my dad .” She moved her hand between them, grabbing his cock through his trousers. “I want to feel you inside me, Severus,” she whispered. “I want to come with you inside me.”
Severus groaned as his hands found her hips and he pulled her back and forth against his lap.
“You want to feel your father’s cock stretching you out, little girl?” he ground out, surprised by his own lust.
She gasped, leaning back so her tits were offered up to him, hands still behind his neck. And then she said the two words he never knew he needed her to say. The two words that ensured there was no going back for them; he would have her every day if she let him.
“ Yes, Daddy .”
With a speed that surprised him, Severus grabbed her and flipped them so she was under him on the rug. He pulled at her knickers until they were around her knees and he could see Hermione’s—his daughter’s —cunt bared to him, all pretty and pink and wet and his.
“I need to taste you.” His eyes were wild.
“I’m yours,” she panted, laying her arms above her head in surrender.
He lifted her by the hips and brought his tongue to her folds, licking through the arousal there, delighting in knowing what they now knew. They were similar for a reason . They enjoyed each other for a reason. She was his in a way no one else was, and he was hers in a way no one else could ever be.
As he lapped at his daughter’s cunt he heard her breathy moans and saw her hands clawing at the floor, desperate to release. “Please,” she moaned.
“What do you want?” he asked, lowering her hips and sliding two fingers inside her, curling them and lying on top of her so that he was looking into her eyes. “What does my beautiful girl want?”
The words pushed her towards the edge and she was seconds from coming on his fingers.
“Fuck me, Daddy.” She licked her lips and her eyes glazed over as her hot channel clamped down on his fingers. “Yes, yes, yes—”
And he knew, that she knew, that he knew, she had never come harder for him before that moment. Before she knew it was her father fingering her to orgasm.
“You like that don’t you, pet? You’ve been begging for my attention for years and now I’ll never let you go.” He slipped his cock from his trousers and thrust into her. Her mouth fell open, eyes rolling back as she tried to focus on him, on the intrusion, the stretch, the sheer joy of being together. “You like how right this feels.”
“So wrong,” she breathed even as her walls tightened around him as he continued to pound her cunt mercilessly, perhaps harder than he ever had before.
“Is that so? Shall I stop?” He stilled, sliding almost all the way out, and her legs came up at lightning speed to hold him in place.
“So wrong,” she said again, staring him straight in the eye. And then her lip curled up in a smile. “So right.”
He grinned as he caught her mouth with his, bottoming out inside his girl, his witch, his Hermione. She gripped the back of his neck and curled into him as she panted.
“Please, please, please,” she begged.
“Do you want a reward? Does my good girl want something special for being the perfect student? For learning how to please my cock so thoroughly?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “I love how you teach me.” Her breaths were coming in staccato gasps with each punctuated thrust he rammed into her.
“Bad enough you were fucking your teacher ,” he crooned into her ear, “but you’re wetter than I’ve ever felt you now that you’re fucking your father .”
“Oh gods.” Her eyes rolled back and she was coming all at once on his cock, squeezing it with her tight muscles. She looked at him with a renewed fire he had never seen before, and he knew an idea, a thought, a need had come to her.
“Come in me,” she whispered.
“I always come in you,” he snarled posessively, biting her lip.
“Without the charm.”
“Oh fuck . Fuck .”
He couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to. Her words triggered a cataclysmic orgasm, his groin tightening as shockwaves of pleasure ran through him, bollocks tightening as he filled her with countless ropes of his cum.
She arched into him, a single yes hissed through clenched teeth as she took every last drop of him inside her small, soft body.
Severus heaved great breaths, his head falling to her shoulder as her arms came up around him, gently playing with his hair.
He heard her mumble something that sounded like Merlin’s balls, I fucked my dad, but he was too tired and too sated to care. If she was having regrets, there wasn’t much they could do now. He supposed he could offer to Obliviate her.
He rolled off her, pulling her into his side on the carpet, and they held each other, the only sound the fire in the grate.
“Severus?” she asked, a few minutes later.
“Hm?”
She was silent, so he opened his eyes to find her staring at him with a glint of mischief in her gaze.
“Can we do this again tomorrow?”
He pressed a kiss to her hair. “I have yet to turn you away from my bed, witch. I can’t imagine why I should start now.”
She giggled and cozied into his side more. “Good.”
Good indeed. They were bound now, for better or worse. And if he were constantly destined to reap what he’d sown, well, he couldn’t think of a sweeter fruit than she.