FIC: A Discussion Concerning Cavemen and Sexy Matrons (NC-17)

[iulia_linnea]

Title: A Dicussion Concerning Cavemen and Sexy Matrons
Type: Fic
Age-Range Category: Five
Pairing: Severus Snape/Hermione Granger
Author: ms_anthrop
Beta(s): The marvellous Q.D.
Rating: NC-17
(Highlight to View) Warning(s): Explicit sexual situations, language. Taking the piss out certain literary characters and tropes with a wink and hug.
Note: Having recently unpacked my childhood library, I stumbled across several books that had proved to be highly informative about certain… matters. This story is a homage to the books that can be found on *that* shelf, as well as a reflection about the true nature of courage.
Summary: Professor Hermione Granger had long ago decided that Headmaster Severus Snape was the bravest man she had ever met, but not for the reasons that most people thought. On the evening of his forty-eighth birthday, he finally starts to see it her way.



Shutting the door to his private quarters with a sigh of relief, Severus Snape began to unbutton his frock coat as he made for the bedroom. It had been an utterly shite day, and he was very much pleased to see the end of it. Perhaps I can trade my evening rounds out with Filius. I don't particularly want to go back out in an hour, and I'm bound to take off some student's head if I do… he started to think tiredly, and then came to an abrupt stop at the entirely unexpected sight that greeted him.

"Professor Granger," he inquired silkily, hand pausing on the third button, "is there any particular reason why you are lying naked in my bed fingering yourself?"

Hermione Granger, Professor of Muggle Studies, Order of Merlin (First Class) lay face down on the coverlet of the massive four-poster. A pool of warm late-afternoon sunlight illuminated her, the cream of her bare curves turned golden and the tumble of lush curls trailing down her back glowing with a dozen different hues of brown. She was lost deep into a book-as well as herself-and in a pose caught somewhere between Botticelli and wanton bibliophile. Both his cock and his heart gave a little lurch at the surreal scene.

Lazily, she glanced up and stretched. His dark gaze avidly observed the graceful flex of muscle all the way down the line of her body as she placed a bookmark into the thick tome, closed it carefully, and put it on the bed stand. "I assume you heard about my classroom incident involving the third-year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors taking turns hurling about the slug-vomiting charm?"

"Mmmm," he acknowledged, drifting closer.

"Having spent the better part of two hours covered in slug slime and vomit, I decided that a hot shower was in order, followed by a good long soak." As he approached the bed, she pushed herself up, the movement revealing the perfect blancmange rounds of her breasts, nipples hard and red as cherries. His mouth began to water. "Then I decided that the daylight felt quite nice on my skin and I ended up here in front of the fire to dry off."

This close, Severus could smell her; the faint whiff of coconut conditioner used to tame her hair, the vanilla spice of her lotion, both fragrances deepening into a subtle, darker scent as they mingled with the natural perfume of her skin. She shifted again and a third scent-the musk of her desire-drifted upwards in the sun-soaked air.

"And so having cleansed yourself, you decided to read a naughty book in the nude… on my bed," he repeated gravely, flipping the book over to examine the cover. It was a Muggle book, but instead of the bodice ripper he was expecting, a blonde woman in an odd fur wrap was pensively staring off into a snowy mountain range. The Valley of the Horses, he read silently and looked at her with one eyebrow raised.

Hermione's mouth curled into a teasing smile at his tone. "On our bed, and yes, that about sums the situation up," she said and rolled over onto her back, glorious body bared to him unashamedly. It was as blatant of an invitation as he'd ever received, and one that nearly unmanned him.

Clearly, Hermione had heard about the trials of his day and was seeking to provide redress in the best possible fashion. I can touch her all I want, Severus marvelled as he stared down at the sensual feast spread out before him. She's mine. And she wants me just as much as I want her…

Love, lust, and gratitude, as well as about twenty other emotions flooded him. Severus slowly exhaled, letting the overwhelming sentiments wash over him. Humbled by the gesture-her day had been no better, he knew-he placed a hand on the warmth of his wife's upper thigh, the gold gleam of his wedding band contrasting strongly against the white pallor of his skin. Seeing the tumult in his expression, Hermione laid her hand on top of his in mute comfort, a slight metallic clink coming as their rings collided.

For the most part, Severus could ignore the ghoulish spectres of his past and concentrate on the present. But there were days when all of the good that had come to him in the last decade seemed unreal and the future desperately fragile, especially contrasted against the solitary misery of his life before; there were days when his struggles to combat hate seemed utterly futile, ugliness inevitably cropping up like a many-headed hydra.

And then there was the war to master his own feelings and protective instincts: Severus had spent too many decades living alone to truly be comfortable with cohabitation. Despite the obvious advantages, he often felt as vulnerable and exposed as a newborn babe by the risks he was taking in loving Hermione so freely. If this falls apart… but it won't. She loves me. Hermione chose me just as I chose her.

Falling in love with Hermione upon her return to Hogwarts had not been terribly difficult, but accepting her love and letting himself be loved in return had been the real battle-one that raged on internally for months. If he was being brutally honest with himself, it still did. Even three years into marriage, Severus still occasionally found himself dangerously out of his depths.

On nights like this, however… I can only be deeply thankful for having won her love.

"I missed you this morning," Hermione murmured, all lasciviousness gone, having not failed to detect the change in his mood.

"You appeared to need your sleep."

"That consideration was appreciated, but I prefer waking up earlier with you than later and all alone."

"I will keep that in mind."

She squeezed his hand. "You do that."

He cleared his throat, unwilling to forgo the seduction that Hermione had set up for the both of them merely because he was feeling a tad unsteady on his feet. After all, she made the effort, and the least I can do is match it. "And just what licentiousness are we reading about today?"

Dimples flashed charmingly. "Less licentiousness than you'd think. This is the second book in a series. The first is called The Clan of the Cave Bear, and it follows the childhood of a brilliant Cro-Magon girl raised by Neanderthals named Ayla who asks too many uncomfortable questions, rebels against the crippling societal norms that imprison her, and is eventually banished from her adopted tribe-"

"Nothing to connect with there," Severus interrupted, sotto voce.

"-but in this book, Ayla is forced to make her own way alone on the dangerous and harsh ice-age plains, and in doing so, becomes the first to domesticate animals, creates the bra as well as sewing needles, the travois, is a medicine woman, and becomes an expert flintknapper and hunter despite it going against all gender norms for her to do so."

Severus resisted rolling his eyes at the lengthy description. Some things never change. "You would find all that rot titillating. Still, sounds dreadfully dull, being all alone by oneself."

"Rampant Mary-Sue'ing aside, she manages. Eventually, a dumb blonde with a magnificent cock comes into her life to spice things up."

He made a moue of distaste. "Blonde? How… trite."

"Yes, well, no book is perfect. He does have the benefit of awakening her yoni, however." A leer resurfaced as she parted her legs in obvious invitation and demand.

"It wasn't awoken before?" Severus asked with mock disbelief, fingers stroking the silk of her skin as they moved up her inner thigh. "She could create a travois but not a dildo?"

Hermione laughed, breasts bouncing in a manner most distracting. God, but I love her! "The poor dear led a rather unfortunate existence until she left the Neanderthals, so she hadn't discovered the joys of masturbation yet. Just lots of laying back and thinking about merry old ice-age Europe as a literal Neanderthal did the rumpy-pumpy above her."

"Poor thing," he agreed dolefully. "I suppose she was due one good shag then, even if she had to make do with a blonde. Did she have any other lovers at least?"

"In the next book. They get tired of shagging in her cave and go out searching for other people."

"Other cocks, you mean."

"Something like that. Ayla ends up terribly confused and horny when she meets her first black man and then accidentally shags him after getting drunk."

"A very common occurrence, accidental shagging… and what of her dumb blonde?"

"Eaten alive by jealousy, of course. But they eventually reconcile because she decides that she can't live without Jondalar's amazing shaft of glory." Her clever fingers slipped from his and began to caress the bulging front of his trousers. Snape's own shaft of glory heartily approved.

"I don't suppose there is a threesome?"

"No, and more's the pity. Alas, the only spit-roasting going on in these books are the hunks of fresh mammoth cooking over the fire."

"Hmmmm," he rumbled, removing his hand to continue unbuttoning his coat. "Tell me more about awaking her yoni."

"I'm so glad that you asked," she began facetiously. "You see, Jondalar's throbbing manhood is so large that he can't fit it in most women's moist channels of pleasure. I'm sure that you can identify with that particular issue… Anyway, as a result of this difficulty, our blonde cock became quite the expert at oral sex to better maximise his chance of sticking it all the way in. He travelled all over Europe polishing his skills, as a matter of fact."

Shucking off his frock coat and tossing it carelessly onto a chair, Severus mounted the bed, straddling Hermione. Staying on his knees, he loomed above her. "Sounds more like he found a racket for polishing his knob, not his improving skills. If he was only bent on improvement, he'd leave his cock out of it entirely."

"Jealous?"

"Of a ridiculously named fictional character? Hardly. I don't need all the women of Europe to practice on when I have you." Leisurely, he ran his fingertips over the flare of her hip and then along the outside curve of one plump breast. Her breathing deepened at the contact, a flush spreading across her chest. He adored how responsive she was. "What will you have me do, Hermione?"

Her eyes were a fathomless amber, the affection and attraction in them was strong enough to take his own breath away. "Pleasure me. Pleasure yourself."

Severus' mouth twisted with humour. "Shall I pretend to be a caveman, darling? I'm happy to grunt a lot if that's what you need."

"No. Just be you." Another rich laugh.

"As you command." Dropping down, he pressed light kisses along the delicate line of her collarbone. She shivered, the hard points of her breasts grazing his shirt. Severus let his weight rest upon Hermione for a long moment, knowing that she enjoyed the sensation of his clothes against her naked body.

Rising to his elbows at last, he slid his hand to her stomach, and then down even further until he reached the humid heat of her core. Severus eased two fingers into her. Hermione was delightfully wet; obviously, she been at it for a while. Her provisional groundwork met with his eager approval; there was something to said for falling in love with a swot who found preparatory lists dead sexy.

Hermione's breath hitched as he lightly fingered her, slim hips arching to prolong the contact. Keeping at it for a long, breathless minute, he let the anticipation stretch out. Holding her gaze, Severus slowly brought his hand up so they could both see the gleam of her desire that lay slickly upon his fingers. Deliberately, he lapped them clean.

"Severus…" she panted and yanked his head down for a rough, musk-flavoured kiss.

Desire exploded between them, all pretence of teasing over. Hermione's mouth opened to his greedily, lips seeking him even as her hands pulled his shirt from the waistband. Groaning at the feeling of her nails lightly scraping across his back, Severus ground his wool-covered erection into her undulating centre. Remembering her words, he let his mouth drop from hers and worked down the succulent length of her neck. She tasted wonderfully of salt and skin. He nipped hard, pausing to watch a red mark bloom over porcelain with masculine satisfaction.

"You bloody vampire," she said with a low laugh, and then pushed his head to her heaving breasts.

Severus gladly took the hint, tracing the satiny skin of her tit with his tongue before finally taking the nipple in his mouth and suckling deeply. She moaned loudly, the sound pushing him on further.

"Shall I make you scream?" he growled, staring up between the valley of her breasts with a wolfish smile. This wouldn't be a languid loving, he knew, but rather something far more feral.

Hermione bit her lip, fingers fisting in his hair. "Yes. Now!"

Still smiling, Severus trailed his mouth down her body, nipping and kissing the sensitive flesh as he went. The smell of her-sweet, and heavy with desire-filled his nose, and he inhaled deeply with pleasure. "I love you," he told her, purposely catching her eyes as said it. Rather than waiting for a response, he dropped his mouth to her mound; her fingers finally loosened from his scalp, the movement turning into a caress as he flicked and sucked her clit with relish.

Using one arm to pin Hermione's hips down, Severus buried his nose again, revelling in the sheer intimate physicality of the moment. Heat seemed to radiate from Hermione's quaking body, and his fingers were making satisfyingly vulgar noises as he pushed into her. It was pure, succulent bliss. Vaguely, he realised that he was humping the bed with the same rhythm as his thrusting hand. As a result, he was a hell of a lot closer to coming than he'd anticipated. Must hurry things along, he thought regretfully, balls aching with something fierce.

Redoubling his efforts, he used his thumb to start stroking her arsehole; Hermione flexed her bum in appreciation. Pressing his thumb deeper, he sucked hard on her clit and she wailed, thighs beginning to stutter around his head. "Just like that, darling," he panted encouragingly, fingers flying in an increased onslaught of wetness.

With a proper scream, Hermione climaxed. Jerking himself up from the bed as soon as she stopped shaking, Severus hurriedly yanked himself free of the rest of his clothes, finally magicking off his boots when they proved too difficult for his trembling hands.

"Hermione," he called, voice cracking as he gazed at her spread so wantonly open in front of him. "I can't… I need…"

Opening her eyes, she smiled up at him with a flushed face and glazed expression. "Rough. I want it rough."

He swallowed thickly, humbled once more that she could not only read him so well, but sought to please him above anything else. In a flash, he was kneeling between her sticky thighs, cock in hand and heart racing. Hermione's lush lips made a perfect 'o' as he drove into her. Severus loved seeing that expression on her face; it made him feel like a god, and buried in her luscious body, he would dare anyone to say that he wasn't.

They both moaned as he increased his pace, and Hermione wrapped her legs around his hips tightly, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Oh, fuck me," he gasped as she contracted hard around him.

He felt her chuckle once more. "I'm trying, love…"

Buring his head in the curve between her shoulder and neck, Severus squeezed her hips harder and concentrated on the sublime feeling of fucking his wife. The intensity was too much, and with a muffled roar, he let go of every thought but her.

****SS****HG****
Hermione stroked fine strands of black hair from Severus' sweaty face, looking down at him fondly. Eyes shut and chest still heaving, he lay totally spent and boneless in her arms. Cautiously, she whispered a cleansing charm over the both of them as well as the rumpled bed. Magic certainly had its advantages.

For the first time all day, he didn't appear angry or stressed, and she felt a smug sort of satisfaction at her success. And about bloody time, Hermione thought, biting her lip with remembered vexation. It's his birthday, and you'd think that this might be the one day that the students would refrain from being utter berks, if only to attempt to win some points with an act of blatant sycophantry.

Alas, the student body-and it appeared, the better part of the staff-had either forgotten or simply ignored that it was the Headmaster's birthday. Even worse, the ongoing prank war had been responsible for dragging Severus out of bed far too early in the morning. When events had turned nasty just before lunch-a fifth-year Ravenclaw had locked a Hufflepuff first-year in a closet with a boggart manifesting as a Death Eater-Hermione had felt Severus' rage even separated by several floors. Thereafter, she had only seen him in passing and had known better than to try and speak with him when he was in such a foul mood.

When her husband missed dinner as well, Hermione had decided that enough was enough. Finding both Minerva and Filius, she had given them a piece of her mind; just because Severus was the Headmaster didn't mean that he had to deal with absolutely everything. Thankfully, they proved amiable to her chiding-guilt was a wonderful motavator-and between the three of them, managed to delegate the rest of Severus' evening duties to various staff members. She had then found the Head Girl-a Slytherin, luckily-and flatly informed her that it was the Headmaster's birthday. Within fifteen minutes, the halls were nearly clear of students.

Still, her wait for Severus in their rooms was longer than she would have liked. Hermione had been on the verge of getting dressed and going out to find her husband when he finally appeared, looking wholly weary. Thank goodness he was willing to be teased out his mood, she mused, wondering if it was time to deploy the second part of her birthday plans.

"Have you eaten?" she murmured and Severus stirred.

"Wasn't hungry."

"Do you want something now?"

"No." He turned over slightly and shot her a groggy, if amused glance. "Cavemen, Hermione? That's not your normal choice of wanking material."

She laughed at his tone. "I was bored, and you were taking too long. I had already finished up my first book, and decided to find something a wee bit longer just in case things dragged on interminably."

"My apologies," Severus replied dryly.

Hermione let the mirth fade from her expression; she could only imagine how hurt he had been when old enemies had once again been used to terrorise anew. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"No," he replied softly, eyes shutting again. "Not… today. Tomorrow, perhaps."

"Alright." Smoothing his hair back solicticiously, she added, "I did guilt Filius into covering your rounds tonight and Friday, by the way."

He huffed and then nuzzled her jaw tenderly in thanks. "Reason three-hundred and ninety-four that I love you."

"And I also sent for an order of fish and chips along with some bitter from your favourite pub," Hermione added. "It's on the table under a stasis charm."

"Reason three-hundred and ninety-five… you spoil me terribly, wife."

"You deserve it. Besides, I usually benefit highly from the results."

Despite the shadows lurking from earlier events, his dark eyes were affectionate and full of love. "I'll make a Slytherin out of you yet." With a sigh, he subsided back into her arms, expression turning opaque and remote. Hermione let him be, trusting him to talk if he wanted to.

It was a full three minutes before Severus spoke again. "Do you regret only having me as your only partner, Hermione?"

She jerked up slightly, the question not at all what she'd expected from him. "What?"

"You were twenty-three when we started dating. You may have been wise in many of the ways of the world, but not… that one."

"No," she said firmly. "I promise you, Severus, I'm not giving Kingsley or anyone else the side-eye. To mix my metaphors-and unlike the fictional Ayla-I had a chance to snog a few frogs before I found my prince. I am quite happy with how my life has turned out." She paused, debating if she wanted to ask the obvious next question. "Do you regret that I'm your only partner? You weren't twenty-three…"

"Absolutely not." He said it just as emphatically, squeezing her hand as he did so. "No, I have always been a firm believer in quality over quantity. You are that. And if I'm being painfully honest, I'm not built for string-free shagging. Love and trust are one and the same thing to me, and without feeling either… well, there is a bloody good reason why I was called the 'Monk of Hogwarts' by my fellow Death Eaters, my dear."

"Their loss, my gain." Cuddling closer, Hermione let her fingers trace nonsensical patterns on his back. "Five years on and vanilla seems to suit us very well. Still, variety being the spice of life, is there anything that really turns you on that we haven't already discussed?"

"You mean other than finding a sexy and naked woman frigging herself in my bed?" he asked sardonically; Hermione was well aware how much he enjoyed watching her masturbate.

"Other than that."

"No, not particularly."

"I find that hard to believe," she said suspiciously, having reaped the fruits of his fertile imagination more than once.

Propping himself up on an elbow, Severus looked at her. "Think of the women in my life, Hermione. Bless them one and all, but none are exactly built to create fantasies on, especially when I was younger. For example: Sexy librarian cross with me because I've returned a book late? Irma Pince. Sexy older teacher hot for student? Minerva, or Pomona-the former who not only scared the pants off me regularly but appeared to be protecting my bitterest enemies. The latter, of course, is clearly only into women and is far too earthy for the likes of me. Not to mention they would probably both eat me alive."

Ignoring her giggles, Severus cocked his head thoughtfully and then ticked off a fourth finger. "Let's see, what's next… right, that would be lusting after the girlfriend of my best friend, I believe. That role would fall to Narcissa, who can freeze a man's dick off with a single glance. Indeed, Lucius would have put my balls on a rope and fed them to his peacocks had I thought anything impure about Cissy. Kinky-crazy-BDSM dominatrix? Bellatrix, who was gleefully shagging the Dark Lord until his cock shrivelled away, and then had to make do with the snake that lived outside of his trousers since there wasn't anything in it."

Hermione burst into horrified laughter. "Really?"

"Really." Severus shared her expression of disgust before growing more serious. "In addition, having seen far too much torture at Dark Revels over the years, I prefer my sexual partners to be fully consenting and aware, and I'm not into punishment no matter which way it swings. Becoming a professor at age twenty-one also cured me of having any sort of sexual fantasies about students: when I was young enough to still find them attractive, it was clear that the only reason any one of them would proposition me was because they viewed me as ugly enough to be an easy mark." At that, the anger in his voice became real; Hermione fleetingly reflected that she'd been damn lucky to have caught Severus' attention when she returned as an erstwhile student given his clear ire and distrust towards the species in general.

He caught her discomforted expression and halted. With a deep breath, he added, "And I could only think of Lily in that way until I got her killed."

Severus swallowed thickly, and she could see how anxious the admission made him. They rarely spoke of Harry's mum, and Hermione never pushed him to do so. The admission-all of them, really-just made her desperately sad. Severus Snape was a passionate and generous lover, as well as being surprisingly affectionate in private. That he had spent nearly all of his forty-eight years lacking any sort of physical or emotional comfort from another person broke her heart.

Watching him and the way that his expression had hardened, Hermione knew that the last thing she should show him was sympathy in this moment of vulnerability.

"You poor thing," she said at last, intentionally keeping her voice light. "What on earth did you wank to?"

He huffed, gratefully breaking eye contact. "Not much."

"Hmmm," Hermione murmured, mind spinning. Should I tell him a few more of my fantasies? she pondered and then had another thought. I wonder… given how he feels about love and trust, it's the only thing that would make sense… "You know, you did leave one common trope out, Severus."

"I did?" he asked gruffly, surprised.

She gave him a wicked grin. "Naughty Nurse." His breathing hitched ever so slightly as she said it, and Hermione knew that she had guessed correctly. "And hasn't Madam Pomfrey always had a rather fine-"

"Bedside manner?" Severus interrupted hastily, his ears turning bright red as he tried not to blush.

"I was going to say bosom." Watching him squirm further, Hermione couldn't help but tease him; she so rarely caught him out. "Oh, come now, don't be shy. Tell me more about this fantasy of yours. You've certainly been accommodating enough with mine over the years."

Severus flopped onto his back, arm half-covering his face. "Fine," he grumbled. "I am hurt-"

"But not too hurt."

He shot her a glare. "Obviously… I am only injured enough to demonstrate my bravery, nothing more."

"And then?"

"And then a sexy mediwitch comes into my room and insists on doing a full exam to ensure that I am well on my way to recovery. She is so overcome by my manly attributes and heroic actions that she can't help but…" Severus trailed off, lips compressing.

"Stroke your todger?" Hermione asked softly, reaching down and doing just that.

"Yes." He said it crisply but his body reacted nonetheless.

"What next?"

"Then she kisses it to make it all better." Once again, he glanced away, a different sort of tension running through his lean frame as he waited for her condemnation. Hermione saw that she had hit a nerve several times over and they both went silent for a minute, trying to find solid ground.

"Of all the people in this Castle, you and Poppy are the closest," Hermione began uncertainly. "You trust her the most, for that matter. You never..?"

At her words, Severus looked back to her, expression softening. "No. In addition to knowing me as a student, she was married to a useless twat until five years ago. Neither one of us is the type to condone adultery. Perhaps if she had divorced him earlier, or you had not returned when you did…" He cleared his throat. "On the other hand, there is quite a bit of history between Poppy and I, much of it painful. Whilst you may know about most of the skeletons in my closet, I very much appreciate that you weren't around to see the worst of it."

"Seeing you nearly die in the Shrieking Shack wasn't the worst of it?" she shot back, oddly stung.

"No. As gruesome injuries go, getting lightly gnawed on by a magical snake and almost bleeding to death doesn't even crack the top ten."

Abruptly, Hermione realised that she was making a fuss over nothing. Then she figured out why it bothered her. "Sorry. I'm being a jealous cow, aren't I? I should be happy that you had another possibility at love, and not getting stroppy over something that never was."

Severus' mouth quirked. "I suppose. Not being the generous sort myself, I'm not the best one to ask about that type of thing. I will say, however, I do enjoy seeing you become territorial over my battered and scarred hide."

"You would," she said with a weak laugh, and he leaned over and kissed her reassuringly.

Pulling back, he spoke sincerely as he cupped her cheek. "From the second you walked through the gates of the school for your interview, I noticed you, Hermione. Between the cheeky manner and even cheekier skirt, all I wanted-all I could see-was you… even if took me the better part of a year to admit it."

"You rather caught my attention as well," Hermione said ruefully, feeling like an utter ninny for needing reassurance in an area that Severus had never given her reason to doubt.

"I'd hope so… Merlin knows I made a fool of myself often enough before I pulled my head out of my arse. However, if it makes you feel any better, the reality of the relationship between Poppy and I over the years rather ruled out any naughty shenanigans from happening."

"Did it?" Hermione asked, curious.

"If I needed to go to Poppy for healing, it was because I was hurt badly enough that I could barely stand up, nevermind my cock performing any acts of outstanding heroism. And if things were bad enough that I was with Poppy in the hospital wing, then Albus was usually hovering over me demanding answers to questions I couldn't or wouldn't answer."

"Oh," she murmured, helpless in response to his grim tone. "I can see why that might put a damper on things."

"Indeed."

They both sank back into the bedcovers, the mood of the evening taking a downturn yet again. Bloody fucking bollocks, Hermione thought, cross at herself. I should know better than to ask these types of questions by now, at least in delicate moments like this. Severus likes to brood entirely too much to just let this go, especially after the day he had… Gazing at her husband's blank countenance, she came to a swift decision. It worked once. It's certainly worth trying a second time.

"Well, no time like the present," she announced in a resolutely cheerful tone. Sliding out of bed, she shivered as the cool air hit her bare skin. Fumbling for her wand, Hermione renewed the warming charm on the room and grabbed her robe. She eyed it for a contemplative moment before shrugging it on. With a few determined flicks, it turned into the stereotypical sexy nurse outfit, leaving off any knickers. She smiled winsomely at Severus, hoping that he'd be willing to be cheered up again.

"Alas, boyo, it's going to be sexy Muggle nurse or nothing. I'm not going to pervert Poppy's robes for the sake of an exercise in depravity. We both have to be able to look her in the eye come morning."

Severus' reserve held for a moment before his expression turned wry. "Pity." He stared at the low cut top with approval, and then down to where her curl-covered quim peeked out beneath the hem. "I suppose you'll do, although your bosom isn't quite as commanding as-"

Hermione gave him a good whack in the shoulder, perhaps a tad harder than she ought to have done. He grunted, rubbing the offended area and glowering at her.

"Oh, you poor thing," Hermione cooed, hands going to her hips militantly. "So badly hurt!"

A whiff of a genuine smile finally surfaced at the by-play. "A little less of the saccharine, darling, or you will be adding poisoning to my list of ills needing treatment."

Hermione offered him a gimlet-eyed glare. "Shall I start checking you for other injuries now, or do I need to swat you again?"

"By all means, begin the examination," he said grandly, settling back into the pillows with a despotic smirk.

Oh, two can play this game… Taking a deep breath, she asked the next question in a low purr. "And tell me, Mr Snape, will I also be performing a prostate exam today, or should I leave that for future appointments?"

Having his prostate stimulated was another act that he dearly enjoyed, although Hermione wasn't as comfortable with it as she was other things; being his birthday, however, she was willing to put it on the menu. After all, what's good for the goose is good for the gander, and I certainly enjoy having my bum fingered enough…

His dark eyes flared with fire at the suggestion, equal parts raw heat and unrestrained love. Taking her hand from her hip, he kissed it tenderly, the gallant gesture at odds with their charade. Voice husky, he answered. "I will submit to whatever you think best, Nurse Granger."

"Such a good boy, aren't you?" she whispered, feeling just as turned on as he as she leaned over him to begin anew. Observing the half-moon marks left on his sides from her nails, Hermione wordlessly healed them. Severus sighed as she continued to stroke his pale skin, eyes fluttering shut. Seeing his enjoyment at her simple touch, Hermione opened the bedside table and withdrew a small bottle of fragrant almond oil.

"Roll over," she commanded quietly, and he did so without a quibble. Moving onto the bed carefully, she balanced over his legs and poured the oil onto her hands, letting it warm up. With firm, sure strokes, she began to massage his back and shoulders. He relaxed even further; she too lost herself in the soothing motions for several languid minutes.

Severus wasn't particularly broad-shouldered, but he was nicely defined and sported lovely biceps. His bum was truly drool-worthy, however, and was kept in peak form due to the endless sets of stairs in the Castle. It took an effort to not give the perfect rounds of muscle a light slap. Alas, that would be an entirely different fantasy…

Unsurprisingly, his body was littered with scars, hex marks, and burns, as well as the grey remains of the Dark Mark on his forearm. Gazing at the large scar that bisected his left hip and ran all the way across his back to his mid-spine, Hermione felt a spike of protective anger. He had been damned lucky to not have been paralysed or killed by that injury, and there were so many more just like it littering his frame.

A wave of gratitude washed over her with that recognition; there wasn't a day that didn't go by that she didn't acknowledge her good fortune that they had both lived long enough to have found love with each other. Putting all that passion and affection into her massage, she paid particular attention to Severus' neck and shoulders. Gradually, Hermione worked her way down his arms and kneading each talented hand in turn.

With a fond pat, she switched her attention to his buttocks and hips. Severus groaned as she increased the pressure of her strokes, then hissed when Hermione ran an oiled-soaked finger between the cheeks teasingly. Deciding it was time to have him turn back over, she gave him a gentle tap.

Severus obliged, but he was nearly half-asleep. She wondered if it was better to simply let him drift off; goodness knew he had been up long enough to warrant an earlier bedtime. Deciding to let him choose, Hermione started in on his densely-muscled thighs before looking up to gauge his reaction.

He was watching her with hooded eyes, the erotic intensity of his gaze at odds with the complete relaxation of the rest of his body. The weight of his regard was like a physical caress on her skin, and Hermione felt her breathing increase as she continued her rhythmic ministrations. In a matter of seconds, their roles reversed; she was the one being seduced.

Hermione marvelled that this brilliant, affectionate, loyal man was all hers, and that Severus had been courageous enough to let her into his life; that he had shown any faith in the power of love spoke to a personal resiliency that was utterly astounding. Dropping all pretence, she let her emotions shine clearly in her expression.

Sliding up his body with focused intent, Hermione placed her hand over his rapidly beating heart. "You are the bravest man that I know, Severus Snape." Leaning down, she kissed him deeply, letting her lips say what she could not.

He met her passion with equal fervour, hands twisting in her wild hair to pull her closer. Hermione felt his erection surge beneath her and couldn't help but arch into him, needing more contact. They finally broke apart breathlessly, faces only inches apart and limbs intertwined.

"When you say it like that," he panted roughly, "I can almost believe you."

The naked vulnerability in his eyes-those lingering doubts as to his worth and value as a human being-made her want to howl at the moon in rage. Would that she could slay all his demons and detractors; Hermione would have gladly been his knight errant if it would have done any good. But just as she had to be the one to master her own fears, Severus had to do the same. Given the tremendous strength he'd shown, she knew that he would one day do all that and more.

And in the meantime, I am going to spoil him rotten, just as he does me…

Gently, she disengaged herself from his embrace, moving back down the bed in a series of slow undulations, purpose clear in her siren's smile. Placing her palms on Severus' lightly furred thighs, she looked up at him through the vee of his lanky body. His dick bobbed a breath away from her lips, and the heady smell of his arousal filled her senses.

Hermione gave his cock a leisurely, long lick.

"I love you, husband of mine. Shall I kiss it and make it all better?"

"Yessssss," he hissed, pupils shot wide with lust and hips moving upward of their own accord. Lightly gripping the base of his erection, Hermione swirled the tip in her mouth, letting her tongue play with his foreskin; Severus' eyes rolled back in his head at that. She hummed with smug satisfaction, curls dragging along his skin as she bent to her task.

There was nothing more erotic to her than to watch Severus come unglued like this. He had such iron control in every aspect of his life but this one. The knowledge that she could engender such an uninhibited reaction in him was just as much of a carnal pleasure as anything he might physically do to her. Mine, Hermione thought lustfully, wishing she had a third hand to pleasure herself; the sight of Severus bucking and moaning wildly was making her increasingly wet.

As if hearing her thoughts-and being a legilimens, it was entirely possible that he had-Severus' hand stretched out towards her, and a rumbling buzz suddenly centred over her clitoris. "Ohhhhh," she exclaimed, shocked, and his shaft left her mouth with a resounding pop. As Severus increased the pressure of the charm, she did a bit of wanton bucking herself. He bared his teeth in a feral grin at her response.

You competitive bastard!

Not wanting him to win this battle, Hermione girded her loins and prepared to weaponise her finger. Rolling his balls carefully with one hand, Hermione slid the index finger of her other hand down his perineum and felt him shudder at the contact. It took three tries before she could focus enough to cast a lubrication spell; taking a deep breath in, she hollowed her cheeks, sucking Severus' cock as deep in her throat as she could take and then pressed her finger into his bum.

It proved to be a great success, if his incoherent swearing was any indication.

Not being terribly coordinated, Hermione found it difficult to maintain a good pattern between her sliding finger and suctioning mouth, but persevered over the course of several minutes. She was just starting to get the hang of it when the charm on her clit abruptly failed and the taste of salt flooded her mouth; Severus was very close to coming. A sharp tug on her hair had her looking up again. Face twisted in a rictus of pleasure, Severus looked like a savage.

"Herm…ione… want… you."

Dazed, it took a moment to understand what he was asking for. Withdrawing her finger and jerking upward-thankfully remembering to not biting down as she did so-she released his cock from her mouth. With a hard wrench, Severus pulled her up the length of his body, every muscle drawn tight with the effect to stave off his impending climax.

"I need-" she started to gasp, but he didn't give her a chance to continue. Ripping the transfigured top open so that her tits sprung free, Severus re-applied the vibrating charm, this time including her nipples in on the fun. Hermione screamed shrilly, her entire body electrified by the sensation.

"Love you," he ground out, raising his knees so that she automatically widened her stance on his lap; feeling the blunt head of his cock catch at her cunt. Hermione rolled her hips once and took him inside of her.

"Love you, too..!"

For the second time that night, Severus' grip was absolutely punishing on her hips as he drove into her swiftly. It was the best sort of pain, however, and she arched her back to take him deeper. On the fifth stroke, she felt the white-hot heat of his release; with a wail of her own, Hermione came, spots dancing in front of her eyes.

****SS****HG****
Hermione was an unconscious, limp mess in his arms. Despite the fact that her hair was a damp riot of curls attempting to devour both pillows and one of his arms, the purpling love bites trailing down her neck, and semen drying most irritatingly on her thighs, she had never been more beautiful to Severus.

Her generosity and trust-both in bed and life-never failed to move him, and Severus wondered if he would ever be able to express to her just how much she meant to him. Little wonder Potter defeated the Dark Lord, he thought sardonically. Had I had Hermione by my side as a youth, I doubt events would have turned out the way that they did. Hell, we probably could have started our own cult and taken over Wizarding Britain. Then again, given the fact that I am Headmaster of Hogwarts and she is my loyal wife, we might just yet…

Reaching for the ebony length of his wand, Severus cleaned the worst of the mess from the both of them and then conjured a glass of water. Taking a cautious sip, he stared down at Hermione, wondering if he should summon some bruise paste for her hips. They would both be sore in the morning. He was both appalled and chuffed by the marks; their loving was rarely this rough. Still, she had no problem matching me, and however brief my performance, I don't think that there will be any complaints…

As if sensing his regard, she roused, amber eyes fluttering open.

"Water?" he asked softly, and she nodded. Severus helped her to sit up and then held the glass so that she could drink. "Are you alright?"

Her smile was slow and still held a sensual note. "Better than. You?"

"This has been a birthday that will go down in the books. It's only a pity that your birthday is so far off."

"Valentine's Day is only five weeks away."

"Well, that should be enough time for me to plan my attack," Severus said dryly, meaning it.

"Mmmm, so I lived up to your fantasy?".

He kissed her, pushing the mass of hair away from her lovely face so he could see her better. "You always do."

Out of nowhere, Severus' stomach gave a loud, interrogative gurgle, reminding him that breakfast had occurred many hours before. Hermione dimpled at the sound and made to rise. "Let me go fetch your supper from the table."

"No," he stated firmly, tucking the blanket back around her securely. "I'll go. You stay where it's warm. We can split the food; you must be hungry as well. Merlin knows you certainly burned off a meal or two with your actions tonight."

"If you insist."

"I do." He was a step from the bed when Hermione said his name. Turning, he met her warm gaze. That look was back in her eyes, the one that threatened to unman him every time.

"You are the bravest man I know, and I love you more than life itself." Stretching out, she then slapped his arse and smirked. "You also have the finest ass I've ever seen. Now go get our dinner, and see if the elves will part with some sticky toffee pudding, will you?"

Severus Tobias Snape laughed deeply, feeling buoyantly happy and wonderfully… whole.

"As my love commands."