Chapter Text
Hermione froze, her fingers still clutching to Severus hair.
Both of them stared at the woman in the door, Hermione would have never believed that three completely different people could have the exact same expression on their faces — utter shock.
Before Severus could even attempt to untangle his hands from her curls, Pansy turned on the spot, running down the aisle which led back to the ballroom.
After what felt like eternity Severus bolted after her, slamming the door to the library closed.
It took several more seconds until the panic started to rise inside of her. Everything was ruined, her reputation, her mother, Severus!
She could only imagine what Pansy Parkinson was telling everyone at this moment. For the first time she was utterly unsure what to do. On one hand she longed to run out of the room, tackling the other woman to the ground, perhaps shackling her to one of the old torture cellars in Harry’s mansion, on the other hand she rather wished she could pack her mother, Harry and Severus inside a bag and move to the other side of the country or another country altogether— Italy sounded pretty pleasant in her father’s tales.
If she had feared the judgement of the people a few weeks prior in church, she now trembled just thinking about leaving this room. Her legs felt heavy and her chest tight, she pressed herself against the bookshelf, but everything swirled around her, the shadows on the walls closed in on her and she felt like she was drowning in them. With a sob she sunk to the floor, huddling her legs close to her body, her arms shook so she pulled them around her knees.
The silence of the library felt oppressing and for the first time she was not at peace, although she was surrounded by books, which had always been her friends.
She had ruined everything, HE had ruined her and what was worse was that she could not hate him, instead she wanted to run into his arms, pull him close and kiss him breathless again.
What woman would be so insane as to ruin everything for the kiss of a man?
But honestly this man was Severus Snape
Tears streamed down her cheeks. her fingers twitched and her breathing was too fast. Desperately she tried to mimic Luna’s technique, wishing her friend was there.
Suddenly arms wrapped around her, “Hermione, what happened?”
Harry had crouched in front of her, his hands stroking her shoulders, slowly dragging her out of her haze.
“Hermione please talk to me,” her friend’s voice sounded distressed, she felt his thumb brushing away the tears of her cheeks.
She gulped down the lump in her throat, “He…I mean,” her whisper sounded broken, “We kissed. Harry I am ruined. Everything is ruined.”
Speaking those words out loud made something inside of her crash. Not that it wasn’t real before, but admitting to it confronted her with this reality. Before she could even attempt to calm her mind, sobs broke free and she did not even know what exactly she was babbling.
Harry’s hand tightened around her, trying his best to shush her down, but his words did not ring through the haze of her mind.
“Hermione, listen to me. You are not ruined, I will offer for you. We will figure this out, I promise.”
Her eyes were glassy and she was not able to make out his face, but his voice was full of certainty. “We will make this work!”
“No, Harry you can’t,” she choked out, “You deserve to be happy, I can’t —“
“Hermione! We will figure this out,” behind the blurry curtain of tears, she could see the tears streaming down Harry’s cheeks as well when he whispered, “I only wanted him to admit his feelings, not to ruin you.”
Silence stretched between them, Harry leaned further forward letting Hermione sob in the crook of his neck. Nothing about their position was even a bit comfortable, but she was glad that he held her.
When her sobs subsided, his left hand came up to her chin, making her look up in his eyes, Never before had Harry appeared so determined before. For the first time, Hermione gazed into the green eyes of Lord Potter rather than her Harry, the boy she had grown up with, the boy she loved as a brother.
“I have promised your father to always protect you, I know it is not what you wanted, please believe it is not what I intended as well,” he gently cupped her cheek, trying his best to hide his own grief.
“I cannot make you happy, Harry! You deserve to have Neville or whoever your heart longs for, I can’t let you suffer because of my mistakes.”
Harry was determined, but she was hellbent, she knew she could not say yes — for both their sakes.
“You know as well as I do that nothing can ever happen between Neville and me, at least not publicly.” Realisation hit her, she would be the cover, allowing Harry to have his liaison with his lover while she had to bear him an heir, she would be the one bearing the suffering. Another tear streamed down her cheek, a drop of self-pity, although she knew it was her mess and her fault, she wished that she could refuse Harry’s offer. However, Severus had bolted out the room and Harry was her only option, she had to accept.
“Hermione, please, you have to marry me!”
The door bursted open, Severus Snape strode into the library, black robes billowing behind him like a pair of wings.
“How dare you, Potter! You take advantage of her delicate situation, letting me deal with that hell born Parkinson, while you sneak back to her!”
In an instant Severus stood in front of their crouched figures, dragging Harry up by the collar of his expensive white shirt.
“How dare I? I am not the one who ruined her!” She had never heard such spite in her friend’s voice and before she could even comprehend what was going on Harry had landed his first punch — cracking Severus Snape’s nose.
The sound made her wince and despite the dizziness she dragged her body off the ground, stepping between the two men. Gently she pushed her friend back with one hand, removing Severus hand from Harry’s collar with the other one, “Please Harry, you know it was my fault. You cannot blame Severus.”
Hermione heard the sharp intake of breath behind her, she did not realise that she had not let go of Severus hand, enjoying the small comfort of his warm hands.
“I request a private audience with Miss Granger —“
“Absolutely not! Everything you have to say to her you can and will speak plainly in my presence.” Harry’s voice brooked no argument and Hermione turned around, taking in the man clad in black in front of her. His expression was clouded and she had too less energy left to even attempt to read his features.
“Miss Granger,” he cleared his throat, “Hermione.” Despite everything a small shiver still spread through her spine, making something inside of her tingle. His deep baritone, those same lips which she had kissed only moments before, caressing each syllable of her name, like he valued each small peace of it.
“I plead with you to end my agony,” his hand tightened around her and something close to desperation spread in his black eyes. Before he could open his mouth again, Hermione took his other hand, another tear escaping her eye, while she choked out, “I promise to end all your pain, Mr Snape. Harry has offered for me and I will accept —“
“NO!” His eyes widened in fury, he took a calming breath, the silence stretching in the ostentatious library.
“I beg of you, not only for forgiveness for what I have done to you, for it is in fact not your fault but mine, but I plead with you to accept me as your husband,” he took another shuddering breath, before dropping to his knees in front of her, “I want you, only you, as my wife and I swear I will always strive to be the best man I can for you. I swear, although it is forbidden to swear by God, that I will cherish you, that I will listen to you and that I will always honour your opinion. Although I do not have much to offer, I want you to know that this would not be a forced marriage, not on my part, since I have loved you from the first time you have rendered me speechless, from the first time I have been bewitched by your eyes and captured by your mind. Hermione, you have bewitched me body and soul and I can only hope that you will do me the honour of accepting my hand.”
Hermione’s mind had never been so entirely empty than in this moment. It was as if her brain had decided to go on vacation, leaving her non functioning body behind. She felt nothing, completely apathetic to the entire situation. Utter shock would fit best to describe her current state, more than once did she try to form words in the wasteland of her mind, but not a single sound left her lips.
Finally her eyes were caught by his again and those black eyes told her everything she needed to know — Severus Snape had gifted her his heart on his sleeve and she would gladly accept it.
Instantly she dropped to her knees in front of him, his eyes not leaving hers for a second, the full range of emotion washed over his face, but in the end worry or rather uncertainty remained.
“Yes,” she whispered, hoping that her eyes were telling him the rest for Hermione Granger was at a total loss of words — he had rendered her speechless. Apparently he understood everything which had remained unsaid since his hands came up, cupping her cheeks and leaning his forehead down against hers.
However, his nose touched hers and he could not hide the small wince, which seemed to shake her from her trance.
“Your nose is broken,” her whisper caressing his cheek.
“Yes,” to her surprise Severus laughed, “Yes, I suppose it is, but I believe it was worth it.”
His voice sounded strained. Harry’s harrumph broke them apart, both of their cheeks flushed with warmth.
“I apologise for my earlier physical reaction, though I still disapprove of what you have done to Hermione. If you like I can call my servant, he is quite capable of fixing broken body parts.”
Harry purposefully ignored Hermione’s questioning eyebrow and fixed his eyes on the other man, who gave him a short nod.
“Have you already considered which date would fit best for your wedding?”
“As soon as possible!” The words spilled from her lips before she Harry had even finished the question. Seeing the sly smirk on her fiancé’s face and the knowing grin on Harry’s she quickly added, “I do not want any more rumours. Therefore a quick marriage would be best, I don’t need a fancy dress nor party.”
Surprisingly Severus shook his head, “There will not be a single rumour about us, Miss Granger. While I would love a fast betrothal, I believe it would be best if we start courting and plan the marriage in a few weeks, you deserve a grand wedding after all,” his eyes drifted astray, the crease between his brows indicating that he was lost in thought, “And I still need a proper engagement ring, I had not planned on such a hasty proposal. Hopefully you forgive my haste due to the circumstances.”
“What do you mean ‘There won’t be rumours’? Miss Parkinson saw us, she is one of the biggest gossipers in town!”
Even Harry seemed confused, “Mr Snape, what have you done to Miss Parkinson?”
Severus grinned at both of them, apparently he enjoyed having the complete upper hand.
“You have not murdered her, right?” When he saw the bewildered look in her honey brown eyes, he sighed in defeat, “No, I have not Miss Parkinson’s blood on my hands. I was merely considerate enough to inform our unwelcome intruder that should she decide to share anything of what she imagined she had witnessed, I will be obliged to enclose rather personal information about her with Mrs Dursley.”
Both Harry and her stared at him, absolutely wild-eyed. If Pansy Parkinson was a big gossiper, Mrs Dursley somehow resembled the queen of gossipers and she would definitely not blink twice before ruining anyone’s reputation.
Harry was the first to regain his composure, “So you will court the next few weeks and the wedding can take place the week after Hermione’s birthday? If you want to be a toothrooting romantic you could even propose to her on her birthday again.”
“Thank you, Potter, for your valuable romance advice,” Severus voice dripped with sarcasm. He turned to her, helping her to finally raise from her knees again, “If it is amenable for you, I agree with Potter.” He sounded disgruntled, but tried to keep his displeasure at bay.
“Can we continue our research even though you court me?” Hermione realised for the first time, that she had no idea what exactly Severus Snape demanded from a wife — from her. It was truth that he had promised to listen to her, to value her opinion, but did this mean that he would allow her to perhaps continue her studies? Would he even want an educated wife?
To her relief he smiled at her, his black eyes full of warmth, “Absolutely! I enjoy your company as well as input and I was sincere when I told you that your mind is remarkable. Perhaps I can answer all of those questions, which are currently occupying your mind, on the ride back? After all I did promise your mother to bring you back at a reasonable hour.”
Gently he offered her his arm, but she turned to Harry, giving him a quick hug before taking Severus offer. Although he did not appear pleased, he forwent further comment.
The ride back was filled with lots of chatter. Hermione’s stream of questions forcing him to answer instead of being able to ask a single one of his own.
When he escorted her back to her house, he promised to come back the following day in order to get her mother’s permission to court her, officially. Her smile was radiant and though she wanted to turn in order to open the door, he quickly caught her hand again, planting a faint kiss on the back of her right hand. Her breath hitched as he turned said hand, his breath fanning over her sensitive skin.
“Today you made me the luckiest man alive,” he breathed out before kissing her wrist.
Straightening his stance, he cast her a last heated look before vanishing into utter darkness.
Her skin felt as if it was burning alive and without realising her left hand came up, caressing the places his lips had touched.
“Do you care to explain what exactly is going on between you two or do you prefer if I make an assumption?”
Her mother had opened the door, before Hermione could even insert the key. She stood stock-still, taking in the mischievous glint in her mother’s eyes.
With a sigh, she stepped inside, “I guess there is a lot I have to tell you.”
After she had disclosed nearly every event to her mother — perhaps leaving out a few details regarding Severus and her interaction in the library, she finally went to bed, exhaustion having filled every fibre of her body.
As promised Severus had visited them the following day and obviously Mrs Granger had happily given her blessing. Therefore he arrived on Thursday, just as Hermione was preparing to ride to him on his black horse.
“Since we are courting it is only appropriate for me to escort you to my home,” gracefully he dismounted the black mare, bowing slightly in front of her, “and bring you back safely of course.”
“Do you not believe me capable of riding on my own, Mr Snape?” She gave him a teasing curtesy in return.
“Oh I do believe you are rather profound at riding,” a small smirk played on his lips, “However, I believed we agreed on making it publicly known, that I am courting you, my dear.”
“Don’t call me that!” She immediately regretted her outburst as he was visibly shook by it.
“It is the name my father always used for my mother when he was cross with her.”
Her explanation seemed to ease him and he smiled at her, his handsome dimple becoming visible on his left cheek. “Whatever name would you prefer, Miss Granger?”
Hermione took a step closer to him, raising herself to her tiptoes as if to whisper a secret in his ear, “My goddess divine would work for me.” She broke out in laughter, letting out a surprised shriek when his arms closed around her waist, lifting her up on his black horse.
“Mr Snape! I would not be opposed to a warning the next time you plan on helping me mount a horse!”
She tried her best to give him a scolding look, but he simply smirked at her, taking his own seat behind her on the horse.
His arms surrounded her when he took the reigns and she immediately relaxed in his embrace. For the first time since she was a child she felt safe on the back of a horse again. Severus made sure that his horse did not speed up too much, dictating a comfortable trot, which enabled her to actually sit rather than bounce on the horse.
The following weeks flew by, most of the people of Pemberly were in an absolute shock at first, but slowly they became used to the image of Severus Snape promenading Hermione Granger through town, escorting her to the markets, carrying all of her bags, leading her through the small town’s park and frequently entertaining her at his house. In fact the only one who did not seem shaken in the least was Luna Lovegood, instead she immediately offered her help regarding the wedding. After the magic her friend had done before Harry’s birthday party, Hermione gladly accepted. Her mother had offered her to use her old wedding gown and luckily only few adjustments had to be made. Although Severus had protested, assuring her that he was more than able to afford a new wedding gown for her, she had not relented, disclosing to him that she hoped it would be good fortune as her parent’s marriage had been a happy one full of love.
Still he arrived early on her birthday’s morning, two gifts in one hand and a big bouquet of yellow snap dragons in his other one.
“How did you know those are my favourites?” She gasped taking the lovely bouquet out of his hands before he could even utter a single word.
“Bold of you to assume those are for you, Miss Granger.”
Shocked she looked up, hot embarrassment spreading on her cheeks, “I am sorry, of course I did not mean to be so forward, I just assumed that —“
He laughed, leaning down to plant a faint kiss on her right cheek. It was the first time his lips had touched a part of her since Harry’s birthday and she had not realised how much she missed the contact until know.
“I was merely teasing, my goddess divine,” he whispered in her ear, “Happy Birthday.”
Something warm fluttered inside of her, not only her heart seemed to clench.
“Still I am curious of how you knew those were my favourites?” The blush remained on her cheeks.
“I asked your mother of course,” he stated while stepping inside, using his one free hand to pull her with him.
“When?” Hermione took out a green vase, filling it with water to place the bouquet inside. She was rather certain that she had been present during all of their last interactions.
“During the first time I drove you to church.”
Surprised she turned around, confusion visible on her face, “That was more than a month ago.”
“I am in fact capable of remembering facts for more than a few days, Miss Granger,” he chuckled before grinning at her teasingly, “However, aren’t you rather curious what else I have wrapped up for you?”
Immediately her eyes lit up and for a few moments he was lost entirely in the honey brown of them.
“Of course if you prefer to unwrap your gifts after church I will not hinder you.”
“No!” Quickly she interjected. Hermione had a strange aversion to surprises: On one hand she loved surprising gifts, but she absolutely despised people who told her about such gifts without actually giving them to her.
With a laugh Severus handed her the two gifts and she curiously started to unfold the red wrapping paper of the first, which felt like a hardcover book. To her surprise it was no book, but a box and when she opened it the smell of pineapple hit her.
“I have to admit that I perhaps eavesdropped on your conversation with Potter on the market. Shall I prepare us some tea while we indulge?”
She breathed out a fain yes, while her eyes were still trained on the two pieces of pineapples upside down cake.
When Hermione had placed two small plates on the kitchen table and Severus had brewed an excellent apple tea for them. She carefully took a small mouthful, letting out a moan, “Gods, Severus this is fantastic.”
While she continued to finish her piece, enjoying the sweet and slightly sour taste of the rich pineapple, his eyes were glued to her. Every single time her lips closed around her fork, he swallowed, not blinking once as if afraid to miss a single second.
Hermione looked up and saw the blatant hunger in the black of his eyes and she understood, that this hunger did not arise because of the delicious pineapple cake. Her stomach clenched and her mind supplied her with all the places his mouth had touched — and all the places she would love to be touched by him in the future.
Bringing the last piece to her lips, she kept her eyes on him, watching his black eyes breaking eye contact in order to watch her lips engulf the cake. She let the fork linger in front of her, licking the rest of the sweet pineapple from it. His hand stretched, before he balled them into fists, closing his eyes and taking a deep intake of breath.
“You should unwrap your next gift,” his voice was hoarse and his eyes hot when they opened again.
After she had quickly washed her hands, she carefully unwrapped the other gift, which felt soft in her hands. A gasp escaped her when she saw the silky green material and she slowly unfolded a beautiful green gown.
“I have to try it on!” She had slipped out of the kitchen before Severus could respond, hurrying upstairs to get rid of her modest blue dress and slip into the green silky one.
Not only was she surprised that it fit her perfectly, but she also felt as if the neckline was a tad lower than what would be considered appropriate for church.
Severus sharp intake of breath confirmed those suspicions.
“I cannot wait to marry you, Hermione,” his rough admission made her insides tingle and she had to admit that she loved the way he looked at her.
From his pocket he pulled another small box and when he opened it she could do nothing but gasp.
“Severus I cannot accept this! I love you and I will marry you, but you cannot spend such a huge amount of money on an engagement ring!”
“It is a family heirloom and though the relationship between my parents was not as happy as the one between yours, I always adored my mother’s ring and it is only fitting to your dress,” he stretched his right hand to capture hers, “The only thing I paid for is the engraving on the inside.”
He picked up the golden ring with his left hand, showing her the cursive letters spelling out ‘ezer kenegdo’.
“Thank you, Severus,” a tear escaped her right eye and he leaned down to kiss it from her cheek.
“I have to thank you, my future wife, for making me feel whole.”
Apparently Harry had already anticipated that Severus would indeed take his advise and officially propose to Hermione on her birthday again, for he had already sent out invitations the prior day. And apparently her fiancé had known about it since she was the only one surprised when people congratulated her as soon as she stepped into church, her mother in tow.
Besides Luna, Harry and obviously her mother no one knew that it was also her birthday, which relieved her a bit. Hermione had never been a big fan of being the centre of attention for too long, especially when those surrounding her did not actually care about her person.
If she had had a say in her wedding planning, she would have preferred a small wedding, only the most important people attending, but of course Harry, her mother and to her surprise even Severus protested, stating that he wanted to show everyone that she would be his.
His possessive nature often collided with her stubbornness, though she had to admit that she rather liked it when he called her ‘mine’.
On the day of her wedding, the Sunday after her birthday, Severus Snape deeply regretted his decision for he had completely ignored that more people would mean longer celebrations — and therefore longer until he would have her in private.
It was early Monday morning when the last guests finally departed and Severus Snape escorted her back to his bedchamber. Although her body was exhausted, her nerves high with anticipation and her curiosity spiked, she had a sudden rush of insecurities as she watched Severus, her husband having turned around, starting to get rid of his frock coat.
“I don’t know much about it,” she whispered around the sudden lump in her throat, “only that it hurts. Please, can you make it quick?”
She hated that her chest tightened in angst, her eyes becoming glassy with unshed tears. Even though she trusted this man, she had always felt safe with him, she was scared of what would happen between them — the unknowing had always unsettled her.
“I promise you, my darling wife, that you will beg,” eyes widening with fear she took a quick step back, reaching for the locked bedroom door.
“You will beg me for release, but you will enjoy every single second of it.”
Finally Severus turned around, taking in the frightened face of his sweet wife, realising his mistake. Swiftly he closed the space between them his hands caressing her hips through the silk of her dress, “Shh Hermione, I will never hurt you. I promise you will enjoy it.”
“But you…you said I will be begging?” She stuttered, her shoulders still tense.
“If you want to stop at any point, tell me. I will try my best to make you feel good, but you have to promise me one thing,” he gently lifted her head up, his thumb caressing her bottom lip. When she gave him a small nod, he continued, “I want to hear all of you, every hiss, every whimper, every moan,” he leaned down, their breaths mingling before he murmured against her lips, “Never try to hide them from me.”
Before she could respond his lips had descended upon hers. This time he took his time in exploring every small corner of her mouth, slowly moving them around her soft full lips. His hand continued to stroke her hip, until he felt the tension in her shoulders lift. Her body relaxing into his caress
The other one moved towards her carefully braided hair, again undoing all of Luna’s fabulous work, but she certainly wouldn’t protest. Slowly she opened her mouth, inviting Severus into hers before her hands reached for his chest, gliding over his upper body. Feeling his strong chest beneath her fingers.
Hermione had to admit that she was rather curious what exactly he would look like behind all those layers of clothes.
Breaking the kiss, she cleared her throat, “May I undress you?”
He stared at her, his black eyes burning through every inch of her and before she knew what was happening he leaned her head back, attacking her mouth again. This time however with an urgency which resembled their first kiss in the library.
Between those kisses he groaned a faint yes, leaving her lips and trailing down her neck, touching every bit of skin which he could reach.
Quickly she started to unbutton his white shirt with trembling hands, tugging it out of his trousers and he shrugged it off his shoulders immediately.
“Let me get rid of those offending dress for you, my wife,” he had found a sweet spot on the junction of her neck and shoulder, leaving a small bite mark on her otherwise flawless skin. She giggled and turned around, so he could undo the laces tying her dress together.
“Why do woman’s clothes have so many bindings,” he huffed in exasperation and she only laughed harder.
After what felt like hours she was finally free of her wedding gown as well as every other piece of cloth. She was bare before him.
“You are absolutely divine, Hermione,” he hugged her from behind, his hands trailing over her stomach up to her breast, caressing the round globes.
With a moan she leaned back against his shoulder, clenching her thighs together.
“I need to taste you,” he groaned against her cheek, inhaling the peppermint scent of her hair.
His left hand kept massaging her breast, while he brought his right one to her lips, stroking her bottom one.
“Open your mouth for me, my sweet.” Instantly she obeyed and he brought one of his long digits inside of her hot cavern, “Lick my finger, Hermione.”
She did not wether she felt hot because of his voice or words, but a strange sensation started to rise between her legs and when she glided her thighs against each other she could feel wetness pooling between her legs.
He took his digit out of her mouth and brought it her breast again, lightly flicking her nipple with the wet finger. A loud moan escaped her lips and she bucked in his embrace, her ass pushing back against him.
This in return made him moan and he managed to breath out, “Bed.”
His hoarse voice made her stomach tingle and she whimpered when he picked her up and carried her towards the big four poster bed, gently laying her in the middle.
Severus still wore his trousers, but Hermione had a good view on his upper body. A upper body which was scattered in scars. She let out a horrified gasp, which made hike look up confused. Seeing her honey eyes trained on his chest, realisation hit him.
“I apologise, I did not meant to frighten you. Would you prefer if I cover up?”
“No!” How could he think that she was disgusted by his scars?
“No, I, who did this to you?”
With a shrug, he stated, “He taught me what kind of father I do not wish to become.”
Absolutely shocked she stared at him, but he did not wait for any response, instead he parted her legs and started to kiss her thighs, making her squirm beneath him.
Something about this felt absolutely wrong and improper, but whatever was between her legs did not care about her thoughts because she could feel how she became wetter by the second. His nose nudged some point, which made her shriek, while his tongue lapped between her folds.
“Severus please!” Hermione had no idea what she was begging for, but apparently he did.
One of his long fingers nudged between her wet folds, finding an entrance and slowly glided inside of her. Feeling the warmth around his digit he groaned out, the vibration making her moan even louder. In a slow but steady rhythm he massaged her insides, his tongue lapping up every bit of juice which dripped from between her legs. Slowly she started to feel a building pressure in her core, horrified she felt as if she needed the loo!
“Stop!” She shrieked, but it was too late, more fluids escaped her folds, landing on the white linen. To her surprise her husband’s eyes were not disgusted, but rather heated. However as soon as he seemed to remember her word a concerned look washed over his face.
“Is everything alright?” He withdrew the finger from her folds, making her moan again.
She shot him a mortified look, “I just peed in your bed!”
He smiled at her gently cupping her cheek, “Have you ever touched yourself between your legs before?”
Sheepishly she casted her eyes to the side, her cheeks turning a flaring red.
“It is alright, Hermione, you just have to be honest with me,” He reassured and his black eyes looked earnest.
She gave a small nod, thinking about all the nights when she had touched, although forbidden, sometimes even thinking about him.
“So you have orgasmed before, but apparently never squirted,” he murmured, before explaining, “You did not pee on me or my bed. It is an ejaculate, similar to what happens to men. Although it is rather rare for women, it can also happen to them. Please do not worry.”
He leaned down, placing a chaste kiss on her lips. Even though her mortification had stifled her hunger a bit, his mouth upon hers arose everything anew and she surprisingly enjoyed the strange taste of his lips coated in her fluids.
When he leaned further above her, his hot chest touching hers, she remembered the look of hurt as she had been shocked by his scars. Therefore he pushed his shoulders until she was laying on top of him.
Although he raised a questioning eyebrow he did not object when she trailed open mouthed kisses down his throat. She kissed every single scar which decorated his body, letting her tongue taste his skin until she arrived at the hem of his trousers, a dark trail of hair leading the way beneath it. Looking up she saw that a few tears had trailed down his cheeks, but his smile was so open and genuine she was certain that she had not hurt him.
“Can I open your belt?” She whispered, curious about the bulge which she could see behind the black fabric. He gave a small nod and carefully she opened his trousers.
When she opened his fly, he lifted his hips, allowing her to remove them easily. As she reached for the thing between his legs, he suddenly turned them around again.
She stared up into his eyes, full of hunger, “I promise you can explore as much as you want later my sweet wife, but I fear I will not last if you touch me now.”
His hands trailed down her body, spreading her thighs, so he could place that thing at the entrance of her folds. Slowly he coated it in her fluids, throwing his head back in a moan, before nudging it into the tight heat between her legs.
She let out hiss, the unfamiliar tension hurting her, but seeing his eyes and feeling his chest pressed against hers made it bearable.
“Do you know for how long I wanted to do that?” He slightly pushed deeper inside of her, drawing a small whimper from her lips.
“I know I don’t deserve you,” he pushed deeper again slowly, “But I could not let Potter snatch you away from me.”
“Harry was never interested in me,” she whimpered, confused by his babbling.
“Oh, believe me he was! He told me how he would court you. And I am sorry, Hermione,” He pushed again, his pubic bone now pressed against her, “But I am a selfish man,” he groaned out before withdrawing again.
The hiss turned into a moan and she clenched around him.
“Good God!” He moaned out loud.
“Swearing in God’s name, Pastor?” She laughed, which stopped abruptly as soon as he drove inside of her again, grinding his hips against hers, making her whimper in desperation.
“I will become blasphemous for you, darling,” he groaned against her lips, denying her any kind response by sealing her lips with his again. His tongue mimicking the rhythm of his other part sheathed between her folds.
His rhythm picked up and he brought his mouth to one of her breasts, suckling her nipple into his hot mouth.
“What are you doing to me,” he groaned against her chest, his head falling between her globes, his eyes closing in pure bliss.
His one hand trailed down to where their bodies were joined, circling around the small nub, which had hardened earlier and she moaned out loud, buckling against him. He gripped her hip with one hand, angling her so his strokes would reach even deeper inside of her and she was turned into a single moaning mess.
“You are mine,” he moaned against her wet breasts, fully coated in his saliva, and he slightly bit into the soft flesh, returning to the earlier spot again.
“Say it, Hermione,” his rough voice whispered in her ear, hips bucking against hers, “Say you are mine.”
Through the bliss of pleasure, she managed to choke out “Yours.”
And apparently that was enough for him, his lips suckled on her throat, his hips snapping before he tumbled over the edge, dragging her with him.
Nearly limbless, he turned them around, making her lie on top of him, his member still inside of her.
She listened to his heart beat, still accelerated and waited for it to normalise before she looked up to him.
“You never had to worry about Harry and me, he is my brother,” she gently pecked his lips, “Although I am quite glad you were so ‘selfish’ as to pursue me.”
Hermione smiled at him, letting one hand trace the faint scars on his chest, enjoying the feeling of his strong arms around hers. He simply grunted.
“Is that the reason for the dislike on your part?” She inquired, determined on getting a real response out of him.
“He told me about his plans in pursuing you.” He hissed through clenched teeth.
Wild eyed she stared at him, before she understood.
“I don’t know wether I want to slap or hug him,” she murmured, slightly chuckling into his chest.
“What do you think is so funny, Mrs Snape?” Her husband raised one of his eyebrows, a glowering expression on his face.
“Harry never had any intention of courting me, he was always convinced you had some interest in me, but apparently he decided — probably correctly — that you need a bit more motivation to start courting me.”
The glower did not vanish, he simply grumbled, “Lord Potter should be happy he is still breathing, I am not a man known for his kindness and if you two weren’t so close I would have contemplated to get rid of him.”
She stared at him, uncertain wether he was teasing or not.
Seeing her expression, he tightened his arms around her, “I would do everything for you, my darling.”
“Please take killing of the list, Severus.”
He gave her a considerate look, “Yes, I will,” he smiled at her, adding “For now,” internally.