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Chapter Text

Snape stood hidden in the shadows beside Black Lake in seething helplessness, speechless in the face of what he now knew– what Hermione Granger had only the evening before confessed to him as a sort of parting gift. Now, the small garden wedding having mercifully concluded as the sun was setting, he watched in growing resentment as she, resplendently dressed in her bridal finery, kissed that miserable, worthless wanker of a Weasly before they walked through the gates of Hogwarts and apparated off to Merlin knows where to celebrate their love.

Snape huffed in disgust. As if anyone could love an imbecile such as Ronald Weasley. He doubted Granger would find much pleasure in her new marriage of convenience, as her clumsy groom would most likely have no idea how to touch a woman, let alone please her. Would the moron even think of anything other than his own release? Could he ever hope to discover the mysterious depths of her body or mind? Snape staunchly doubted it. She existed on a plane so far above the talking tomato, the idea of a happy union between the two was absurd. What would they even speak to each other about? She was passionate about a myriad of topics of profound depth that were so far above Weasley’s head, that they would no doubt be doomed to forever exist together but utterly separate. He was inadequate and ill suited to her in every way and simply didn’t deserve her.

Yet, in a typical move based on practicality alone, Granger had accepted his proposal. Weasley was familiar and safe in a world that, until recently, had been shadowed in darkness and despair. Now, free from the dark lord and his minions, they were able to move on with their lives. They were free to try mundane normalcy out for a change, to make disgusting choices within their personal lives. Good luck to them, Snape thought bitterly.

He took several deep, steadying breaths and began strolling around the lake’s edge, now lost in the tumultuous thoughts that swirled around his mind in time with the murky waters beside him.

It was just as well. The tender feelings that had grown within him for Granger over the last couple years had alarmed him considerably. He had no business feeling anything of the sort, not at his age and with his sordid past. He had sworn to himself decades ago that he would never love again. Not after Lily. He would rather suffer the cruciatus curse over and over again than know the soul penetrating heartache of unrequited love once more. He wasn’t strong enough to endure that, not now. 

His body was scarred and bone weary from the war. His neck bore the shame of his miscalculation in a moment that almost had been the death of him. If not for Granger’s quick thinking response, he would have died in that dilapidated shack. In melancholy moments such as the current one, he wished he had. His hand came up to unconsciously feel along the ridges of torn skin, now healed, that slashed across his neck in a daily reminder of his failure.

Now that the war was over, what was left for him? What purpose did his life have now other than to slowly melt into obscurity and isolation? He felt listless and unmoored from everything, wondering where to go from here. He didn’t want to admit that Granger had been the sole, steadying light in his life since the war had ended. Owing her a life debt, he had offered of himself the only thing that he could think of that held any value whatsoever: his knowledge.

He volunteered to tutor her as his apprentice, to take her under his wing and teach her everything he possibly could as she finished out her last year at Hogwarts. She had readily accepted and had flourished under his tutelage, especially since he no longer felt the need to treat her with contempt or disgust. Though he had dropped the cruel act, he was still taciturn and stroppy. He had been astonished to find that she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he had caught her smiling at him in an almost fond way on several occasions when he had been feeling particularly moody. Odd indeed.

Over the weeks and months he had grown so accustomed to her constant presence and chatter, that he would find himself missing her on the days she had off or was spending with her friends.

The fateful day his stomach had swooped merely because their fingers brushed against each other as he showed her how to properly stir a particularly advanced potion, he knew he was in trouble. He had embarrassingly overreacted, jerking back from her and instructing her to carry on without him as he had some pressing matters that needed his immediate attention.

Those matters being his racing pulse and throbbing cock.

He had swept out of his office in a swirl of robes and cowardice, and the next day had carried on as though nothing had happened. She acted in her usual attentive, inquisitive way he had grown to admire, and he took care never to accidentally touch her again. He was no fool. What fellowship could light have with darkness? Better to ignore whatever this was festering within his heart. He couldn’t let himself forget that their arrangement was temporary, and as soon as she graduated, she would spread her wings and be off, a whole bright, exciting future in front of her.

Several months later, she brought up Ron for the first time. Telling him that he had awkwardly asked her out, how he had apparently had feelings for her for ages but that aside from a brief crush on him during her fifth year, she had always looked at him as a brother.

Snape had stiffened and silently continued slicing ingredients, though his chopping had become a bit more aggressive. She then had the impertinence to ask him for advice. What did he think, should she go for it or wait for someone else, someone perhaps more mature, more scholarly and suitable to her tastes?

He had sneered at her, causing her to flinch at his sudden terseness.

“What the devil do I care what you do? I’m sure I have no idea what your tastes run towards, and regardless of what I say you will do what you want anyway, headstrong, impulsive Gryffindor that you are. Now please spare me any more tedious details and let me work in peace.”

Granger had immediately gone quiet, leaving their tutoring session early that day without so much as a goodbye. She never broached the topic again.

A tear rolled down his long, crooked nose and fell into the water he was now staring into, the moon’s reflection bright against the surface.

A splash to his left startled him out of his revere, and he immediately pulled out his wand and pointed it warrily at the dark figure that emerged from the depths of the lake. Snape’s eyes widened as a selkie blinked owlishly at him from two sets of eyelids.

“Severus Snape, come closer.”

The voice sounded harsh, raspish like sandpaper against stone as though unused to being used.

He stepped cautiously closer to the water’s edge, wand still drawn and ready.

“How do you know my name, creature?”

“Every single one of us knows and honors your name. We are grateful to you, wizard, for your many sacrifices. You were instrumental in saving all of us from a life of torment, and you will not be forgotten.”

“Yes well, in the end I was quite useless, so save your platitudes for someone more worthy.”

“You are worthy, half-blood that you are. I have come to give you a sacred gift on behalf of my kind.”

A scaly, clawed hand reached out of the water holding what looked like a vial of potion. Snape narrowed his eyes and didn’t move to take it.

“What is that? And why should I trust you?”

“This vial will allow you to safely go back in time to a moment of your choosing since the war ended. It will allow you a second chance to change something you may have regrets about.” The pale face smiled cunningly at him. “That was a beautiful wedding, was it not?”

Snape inhaled sharply and his face turned murderous.

“Have you been spying on me?" He spat out each word with no small amount of disgust. "What in Merlin’s name are you implying? Out with it, foul beast, before I hex you for impertinence.”

The merman had the audacity to chuckle.

“We are more powerful than you humans have ever given us credit for. I would like to see you try. But, would you so easily cast aside a chance to change the past over vanity? Are you too prideful to admit you have been moping around our lake and pining for a witch who now belongs to another? What was it the girl said to you last night in the grove of trees right over there? Something about love?”

Snape glanced over to the spot his eyes had been avoiding all evening, and his heart clenched as memories flooded his mind of the evening before.

_____________________

“Professor! I’m glad to run into you. I haven’t seen you in ages. I’m just out trying to walk out my last minute wedding jitters. Want to walk with me for a bit?”

Snape paused and considered saying no. She was actually the last person he wanted to spend time with at the moment. He had been avoiding her ever since the announcement of her upcoming wedding. A whole year had passed since she finished her last year at Hogwarts, since they had spent any time alone together. She had been back this whole week to prepare for her wedding, though why she would want to get married here of all places was beyond him.

He was going mad with it all. This particular evening he had fled the castle trying to escape the endless wedding preparations and chatter on everyone’s lips. Revolting. He was feeling ill and had thought some fresh air would help. He now regretted that decision. He looked down at her sweet, upturned face and was about to refuse when the soft pleading look in her eyes caused him to relent. Fuck it all. 

“I suppose I can spare you a few minutes of my time.”

Her smile lit up her whole face, and they both turned to stroll along the water's edge, stopping to sit on an overturned log near the trees.

“You’ll be here tomorrow, won’t you?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Where else would I be, Cancún?”

“Hilarious. But seriously, you’re coming to my wedding? It would mean so much to me.”

“Heaven knows why.”

He sounded bitter, even in his own ears, and he mentally fortified his walls of feigned indifference. “But yes, I’ll come to your confounded wedding if it means you’ll get off my back.”

Hermione sighed and grabbed his hand so suddenly he almost choked. She gazed out onto the lake as she opened up to him.

“Ron is one of my closest friends. I trust him and feel so chuffed he wants to marry me. The future still feels daunting to me, though we are safe now."

The next sentence came out in a whisper.

"I still have nightmares about what happened." Several moments passed and she seemed to have gotten lost in her own recollections. He tried and failed to extricate his hand from hers, but then she seemed to come back to herself.

"I … I want to face it with someone. But, deep down, I'm worried I'm making a mistake. Gods, I’m rambling now. I’m just having cold feet like most people do, right? Anyway, it’s too late to back out now. I couldn’t hurt Ron or his family like that. Especially since there’s no reason for it. I’ve just never done something like this. I mean, I’ve never made a decision without knowing with absolute certainty that it was the right thing to do.”

She sighed again and turned to face him. He knew he must look constipated with how hard he was trying not to let on how affected he was by the touch of her skin against his. It was hand holding for Merlin’s sake, nothing more. And she was getting married tomorrow.

She was getting married. Tomorrow.

He dared to look back into her eyes that were now swimming with tears. He cleared his throat.

“I fear you’ve ill chosen the person in which to confide. I know nothing of these matters. I’m an old bachelor with no experience other than regret. I can’t help you.”

Hermione nodded, looking down at their joined hands, tears falling down upon them.

“I have regrets as well. But I suppose I should stop looking back and face the future I’ve chosen for myself. I… I just wanted you to know…” Her voice trailed off and she squeezed his hand.

His breath hitched at the added pressure. “Wanted me to know…?”

“I wanted to tell you that…” At this her eyes darted back up to his and shone with a fervor he didn’t understand.

“I love you.”

Silence followed this as Snape blinked in confusion. A moment later, his mind imploded at the words she had said. Had he heard her correctly? Love? She must mean in a familial sort of way. A strong, platonic fondness for one’s mentor? Or was she inebriated?

“How much have you drunk tonight?” He couldn’t help but ask, leaning forward to discreetly try and smell her breath.

She tossed her head back and laughed heartily before throwing her arms around him in a hug so forceful he almost fell backwards. His arms went tight around her automatically as he righted himself and kept them on the log. Was he dreaming? Or had he keeled over and died suddenly? Was this heaven or hell? He wasn’t sure.

She stopped laughing and leaned up to brush her lips briefly against his own.

Heaven, then.

He sat there stunned as she sat back down beside him, the moment over in a flash. He immediately replayed the kiss over and over, trying to memorize the silky texture, feather-like pressure, the exact three fourths of a second duration, and sweet breath of her mouth. He instinctively knew this first kiss would also be his last.

“I always wondered what your response would be if I ever confessed. You did not disappoint... you must think me mad! But somehow, I don’t care. I already feel better, having told you. Don’t worry, I realize I haven't got a chance in hell you would ever return my feelings. I gave up on that pipedream long ago. It’s just … I’ve carried this in my heart for years, and I wanted you to know. At least once. You are such an incredible man.”

At this her hand darted up to caress his cheek, a sad smile on her face.

“I know only a little about your past, how much you loved and lost someone. But please, don’t hide yourself away from loving again. I know I’m not lucky enough to have captured your heart, but give it a chance. You deserve to be happy with someone. And whoever that ends up being, is one lucky person.”

She jumped up suddenly at the far away sound of the clock tower.

“Oh shite, I lost track of time. Ginny is going to murder me! People talk about women becoming bridezilla, but they never mentioned how terrifying the maid of honor can be. Thanks for everything professor. You'll always have my heart.”

And with that, she was gone.

________________________

“Well?” The hoarse voice whispered impatiently. “Are you going to take it? This is not an offer that will be made twice.”

Snape took a deep breath, swallowed his pride, and reached out for the vial. He held it gingerly and peered at it in the starlight. It seemed to glow with an incandescent light. He was a potion’s master, yet he had never seen the likes of it in all his life.

“What are the guidelines of usage? If I decide to take it, that is.”

The creature grinned wide, revealing a row of razor sharp teeth. Snape took another step back from the shore.

“You must take it exactly at midnight and immediately write thirteen times the exact time and day you want to go back to on parchment paper using your own blood as ink.

Snape nodded, unsurprised so far.

“And? Is that all?”

“That’s all.”

“How long will I have? “And what did you mean by 'I can safely go back?' Can I interact with my past self without fear of disrupting events or causing my own death?”

“Time travel is never full proof, but this is the safest method that exists and the only one in which you can interact with yourself without destroying your own timeline. Of course, there are always risks. But you already knew that.” Again the creature smiled wickedly before continuing. 

“You will have three days to correct whatever wrongs you perceive your past self to have made. After that, you will be brought back to the exact moment you had taken the potion to begin with.”

Snape mulled this over slowly. It felt way too risky and for what? What could he possibly do within three days’ time that would make any difference? And, despite his earlier spiteful musings, perhaps Hermione would be happy with the life she had chosen. Did she really need to know how he felt about her? Could she possibly have a fulfilling life with him instead? The idea seemed ludicrous, and he turned back to the selkie to give the potion back, but it had already disappeared under the glassy surface.

_________________________

Months went by, and the vial gathered dust sitting on Snape’s book shelf. He was still teaching at Hogwarts, though he also had begun brewing potions to sell in Diagon Alley in his free time. He hoped to one day save enough money to purchase a nice, remote place in the wilderness, to live out the rest of his days in retired peace. He would fill a cottage with books and the kitchen with potion ingredients, and take walks in the forest collecting wild, fresh herbs and fruit. He would continue selling potions by owl as a hobby and perhaps he would take up wood carving for added entertainment as he was good with his hands. When that blessed day came, he wouldn’t have to endure the endless babbling of other human beings. He couldn’t imagine a better outcome for his pointless existence. 

Well, that wasn’t quite true.

He briefly indulged himself by picturing two chairs before the hearth instead of one. Feminine, decorative accents littered throughout the house. Long, curly hair in the bathtub drain. A warm, soft body curled around his own at night. He closed his eyes at the familiar stab of regret, his only constant companion these days. As he did most evenings, he considered taking the taunting vial that waited silently on his shelf.

Another month past when Snape was roused from a deep slumber by insistent knocking on his outer chambers. He cursed under his breath and wondered who the devil was waking him at this hour. It couldn’t possibly be that important. He rolled over and tried to fall back asleep when a voice called out, joining in with the incessant knocking.

His eyes popped open as he instantly recognized who the voice belonged to.

He jumped out of bed and rushed to open his door, disheveled and out of breath when his eyes finally rested on a familiar, though tear streaked face.

“Ms. Granger! No, forgive me, Mrs. Weasely. What is the matter?”

“Can I come in? I’m so sorry to bother you, were you still sleeping?”

He glanced at the grandfather clock and grimaced. It was half past nine on a Saturday morning. More and more, sleep eluded him these days and when he did finally manage to escape into unconsciousness, he found it hard to rouse himself at a decent hour the next morning. He didn’t have a lot of motivation to be awake these days.

“I had a late night. Please, come in. Tea?”

She nodded and sat down in his study. He waved his hand and a piping hot kettle of water appeared. He chose peppermint tea and some chocolate biscuits and settled in opposite to her. They drank in silence for several minutes, his curiosity rising to almost uncontainable levels. He forced himself to be patient though, as she was obviously upset about something. She would tell him in her own time.

It wasn’t until they were in their third cup that it all came rushing out.

“I saw Ron kissing a random witch in Hogsmeade last night.”

Her sudden proclamation startled him, and he spilled some hot tea on his hand.

“What?”

“Ron. I think he’s cheating on me, and it’s partly my fault. We were fine at first, but then we started arguing over everything. We are like siblings! I thought we would grow into something steady and constant, but this is anything but. We barely ever have a civil conversation, and only on the most superficial topics. And I dread it when we … when we…”

She burst into tears and Snape felt his cheeks color at what she had tried to say. Oh gods, please don’t let her finish that sentence. He cleared his throat.

“Why are you telling me this?” He tried to say it gently but it still came out a bit harsh. He was just shocked to see her at all and completely at a loss for what to say or do in this situation. She was telling him things he had no business knowing. He gazed at her sorrowful face and longed to comfort her, but he reminded himself she was a married woman now. He stared back down at his tea, having lost any desire for more.

“I miss you. Every day. That’s why I can’t blame Ron, he must sense it. It was never just the two of us in this marriage, though I tried valiantly to get my love for you out of my system. At one time I actually did have feelings for Ron, and I thought I could rekindle that. He really is a wonderful person, just not for me.”

Snape snorted. “Well, he sounds like a winner.”

She huffed and glared mildly at him. “You’ve never liked Ron.”

“No, I never have. And you’ve never stopped to consider why that might be.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter.”

Hermione stared at him for a long time, and he cursed his errant tongue.

She finally looked down at her clasped hands. When she spoke next, she sounded defeated.

“I suppose you are right, it doesn’t matter. Nothing does anymore. I’ve made a mess of my life. I suppose it was impetuous of me, but you were the first person I wanted to run to. I almost came in the middle of the night but stopped myself at the last second.” She shook her head and chuckled depreciatively. “I’ll leave you in peace, sorry for the bother.”

She rose to leave and Snape followed her to the door feeling almost desperate to stop her but not knowing what to say or do. He wanted to ease her suffering but how could he? Anything he might say would only add to her pain. She was about to disappear through the door when he blurted out something incredibly stupid.

“Would you do it differently? If you could?”

She turned back to him and tilted her head in confusion.

“What?”

Fuck. Well, here goes nothing.

“If you could go back and make different choices, would you?”

She smiled softly at him.

“Well, yes, knowing what I do now. Absolutely. I married Ron because I believed he was the best shot I had at domestic bliss, since you were off limits.” She smiled wistfully. “I only wish I had been braver and tried to win you over before accepting Ron. I suppose you dodged a bullet there.” She tried to laugh at her own attempt at humor, but it just came out sounding like a whine.

“What makes you think you would have been happier with me?”

She bit her lip and shook her head.

“No, please. I don’t even want to hypothetically talk about it. I couldn't stand the thought that I may have had a chance with you and missed it.” She backed away from him, obviously trying to fight back more tears. “I have to go, I’m meeting some friends in a bit. Hope you are well, professor. I’ll try and have more self control in the future. Take care.”

She walked away without looking back.

That night as the clock struck midnight, Snape downed the glowing potion in one gulp.

Chapter Text

Snape stared down at his own sleeping form in disgust. His younger self by two years was drooling all over the pillow and snoring louder than the goddamn Hogwarts Express. It was almost enough for him to forget the whole thing, as he’d rather be admitted to Azkaban than let Hermione ever see him like this. Pitiful. A particularly loud snore had him throwing a pillow at his sleeping head, having already confiscated his wand. He couldn’t stand another moment of this, and time was of the essence. 

Past Snape leapt out of the bed, reached for a wand that wasn’t there, before flying through the air in an attempt at a surprise attack. Snape merely stepped aside, recognizing the capoeira kick as it was his favorite go-to strike on the rare occasion that he was unarmed. He watched as his other self spun around in shock before freezing, finally comprehending that he was facing a mirror image of himself.

“Who the fuck are you? Show me your true form. And don’t lie and tell me you’re me … I know I’m not foolish enough to time travel.”

“Not foolish, no. Desperate, on the other hand…”

“Explain, now, or I’ll transform you into a toad. I don’t need a wand to do that, as you would know if you really were me.”

“Oh, bloody hell. We have scarcely any time, but fine. If proof is what you need, wipe the drool off your cheek and pay attention. You are tutoring Granger. A couple months ago your hands accidentally touched and you made a fool of yourself by fleeing the room and having a sad wank later on in your washroom. That night you dreamt of her soft curls and sweet smile for the first time. You woke upon a tear soaked pillow." He chuckled humorlessly. "Shall I continue? I have a limitless arsenal of humiliating moments I could recall with exacting detail. As much as it pains me, I am you.”

It was a bit amusing watching the color drain from his own face as he looked torn between humiliation and indignation that he had chosen those particular memories to prove it was himself he was speaking with. He smirked. He never did have any tact whatsoever.

“Tomorrow, Granger is going to bring up the fact that Ron asked her out. You must speak up when she solicits your advice. She will want to know if she should wait for someone … more mature. ” He walked up to himself, trying to tamper down how distressed he was feeling and persuade through reason. He had to convince his past self to open up, to be vulnerable. Not an easy task, as even with the painful knowledge he now carried of the consequences of his silence, he would most likely falter and stutter at speaking his heart. It was a language he had never uttered aloud in his life.

“She is speaking about you! About us. She loves you and that was her way of feeling you out, you oblivious oaf.”

“Watch it! You are chastising me about something that hasn’t even happened yet. And what do you mean she loves me? That’s absurd. Miss Granger would no more think of me than she would a vampyr mosp. What is wrong with you? Does a caldron fall on my head in the future and tamper with my perception of reality? And why the hell are you here? Tell me it’s not to play cupid. Time travel is dangerous at best, how could you even consider it for something so mundane as love? Not that I believe that for a moment.”

He flinched at the bitterness in his own voice, suddenly overwhelmed by a razor sharp, damning epiphany regarding himself. Perhaps the novel opportunity to actually observe his own person as a separate entity gave him fresh eyes of self awareness. His heart sank as he fully comprehended the sour, cantankerous recluse he had become at this point in his life. He was so angry, so filled with resentment from all the horrors he had endured throughout the war, never having known a moment’s kindness or tenderness throughout his sad existence. Was it such a surprise that he could not even recognize love when it was staring him directly in the face? How could he hope to convince himself to pursue this chance at happiness in a few days when it had taken years of regret and heartache to slowly chip away at his own stubborn, hardened heart?

The heavy burden he carried with him constantly, knowing that he had missed a precious opportunity, had changed him. His past self and he were truly separate people now.  Was this a hopeless endeavor? Maybe he should have left it alone and never bothered to come.

Snape sat down on the end of the bed, feeling so weary. Traveling back in time was a ludicrous thing to have done, and the selkie had even said it was not foolproof. But then, images of Hermione filled with regret, misery, and despair, flitted across his mind and he knew he had made the right decision. 

He looked back up into his own eyes that were glaring down at him with contempt.

“She marries Ron.”

Younger Snape’s eyes widened and he seemed to be momentarily speechless.

“A year after she had asked you if she should go out with him, she married him and is miserable. We both are. The night before the wedding, she confesses her love to you. But even then, you are silent, hardly believing her words. But listen to me, she will come to regret this choice! You know what an imbecile Weasley is, and he will be unfaithful to her. She will come to you months later, broken and in despair of her decision, and you will be powerless to help her.”

His voice softened as the familiar pain filled him once more. He looked down at the floor to hide the welling of tears but he couldn’t cover up the huskiness in his voice. “It will tear you apart. I came here to stop this fate from happening. She saved our life from death, now it’s time for us to save hers. We owe it to her. This is a chance for happiness not only for Granger, but for you. Me. You know how painful regret is, help me make this right.”

They were blanketed in silence after this final plea. Younger Snape closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

“I will help dissuade her from Weasley, if you so insist, as he is obviously beneath her. But, you want me to present myself as an alternative?” He sneered derisively. “Would that not be sinking even lower as far as marriage prospects? I just cannot accept that she would want that. Me. It doesn’t seem anywhere near the realm of possibility.”

“You must believe me, it is. Apparently she has quietly loved us for a long time.” A hint of a smile lit up his face. “She is so cleverly deceptive, living her own double life it seems. If she had not told me point blank, several times now, I would struggle with believing it also. But take it from me, she is pining for you even now. Show her you care for her in return, please, and for Merlin’s sake, dissuade her from going out with Ron. Let her know you are an option, ask her out, flirt. I don’t care, but do whatever it takes to stop that from happening.”

“And what exactly are you going to be doing while I take all the risks? I’m merely going off your word as I have seen no evidence to back your claim. Are you just going to sit in our study, twiddling your thumbs while I potentially make an arse of myself?”

“I traveled across time in order to share this information with you, and change the future, I think that’s quite enough. But, if you feel you need my assistance, I’ll hide nearby.”

“I’ll need all the help I can get.” His younger self muttered waspishly. They stared at one another, fear reflected within both pairs of eyes. Even knowing how she felt, he couldn’t help but worry over the potential risks of changing the past. However, regardless of what came, there was no going back now. And he would have it no other way.

______________________________

Snape was well hidden in darkness amongst the dust and ingredients that packed the shelves from floor to ceiling in the potion storage room on the far side of the classroom. The door was left ajar so he could quietly watch himself interact with Hermione. Having already muttered an eavesdropping spell so he could hear everything that was said, he had nothing to do but wait … and pray to the gods along with cupid that they would be successful. Or at least, divert Hermione away from the idea of Ron Weasley. His lip curled in pure loathing. Not since the war ended had he contemplated using any of the unforgivable curses, but the moment he had seen Hermione’s tragic face, saw those heavy droplets falling down her flushed cheeks and learned of the reason behind it, he had been valiantly trying not to think of that ginger scum or what he would like to do to him. Slowly. 

He held his breath, his heart squeezing as he saw Hermione enter. Her demeanor was so bright and cheerful, and she greeted his other self with a warm smile. He marveled at the contrast from this lovely ray of sunshine to the stricken, hopeless face he had last been greeted with two years into the future. His pulse raced, and he had to fight the sudden urge to run out there and gather her up in his arms and never let go. He would prefer not to interfere, not wanting to alarm her, but he would step in if his counterpart fucked this up.

They had talked at length about a potential plan, but in truth he had no idea how his younger self would handle this situation. He hated to admit it, but his expectations were alarmingly low. There wasn’t a bone of charisma or seduction in his body, and his wit, though on the harsh and sarcastic side, constantly failed him whenever he looked into those iridescent, brown eyes. He dearly hoped that Hermione would take the lead if he managed to give her just enough encouragement to do so. Surely, he could handle a little mild flirtation without spontaneously combusting. He looked on with mounting anxiety.

“What will we be working on today, professor?” She stepped closer to him, peering up at his face. Snape snorted softly, even from his hiding place he could tell how uncomfortable this made his younger self. “Are you alright? You seem a bit jumpy.”

“I’m perfectly fine. Let’s continue working on the Draught of Living Death. You haven’t managed to perfect that one quite yet, and I know how much you hate to fail at anything.”

Snape smirked as he caught Hermione’s eye roll through the crack in the door. He watched them prepare the caldrons and begin measuring and chopping up the ingredients. Any time now…

“How was your weekend?”

“It was adequate.”

A pause.

“Well, I had an eventful weekend.” She carefully measured out the essence of wormwood as Snape diced the valerian roots into cubes.

“Oh?” Chop, chop chop.

She hesitated before turning to him.

“If you can believe it, Ron asked me out. It came out of nowhere, and it was so awkward. But apparently, he has fancied me for ages. I thought I had feelings for him several years ago, but whatever that was faded quickly. I’ve really thought of him like a brother ever since.”

Snape remained silent, moving on to the next ingredient, sopophorous bean juice, and poured it into the caldron. The silence dragged on, and closet Snape was becoming murderous. Say something, you fool!

Snape finally turned to her and cleared his throat. She was biting her lip and looking up at him nervously.

“Was there a question … somewhere in that story?”

She smiled and looked down. “Oh, well. I was just wondering what you thought. About Ron. Should I go for it or hold out for someone … else. Perhaps someone more mature, with a scholarly disposition.” She looked back up at him and quietly added, “Someone more suitable to my tastes.”

Snape watched the interaction, his nerves on fire. This was it.  

There was another pause, a nervous cough.

“Well.” Another throat clearing. Snape huffed at his own obvious and ridiculous fidgeting as he tried to speak.

“If you don’t fancy him back, I don’t see why you should.” He turned back to the caldron and stirred the contents. “I would have thought you’d prefer someone with a bit more intelligence than a pygmy puff, but what do I know.”

Hermione laughed at this, and her hand landed on his arm. He stiffened and she quickly removed it

“Actually, I- I need another ingredient from the stockroom. I’ll just be a moment.”

The selkie had been right to say that time travel contained its dangers, because he was about to strangle himself with his bare hands. He slipped to the back of the room and waited for himself to close the door and cast muffliato before he tore himself a new one.

“What the fuck are you doing? Get your ass back out there! She’s waiting for you … Merlin’s sake, man.”

“You do it. Whatever fumblings I end up doing will certainly create a future far worse than whatever you’ve apparently already experienced. You’re the one she confessed to. Not me. I don’t have that memory to fall back on for moral fortitude. Ask yourself this, without everything you’ve experienced since this fateful day, would you be able to make a move? Also, she’s still my student. I won’t do it. You started this mess, now you finish it.”

All the previous anger seeped out of him as he realized the truth in what he was hearing. He would not have been able to find the words or the confidence back then, no matter what far fetched tales of the future were relayed to him. Snape ran his hands down his face in exasperation.

“Fine, fine. I’ll do it. But you are absolutely useless, just to be clear.”

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, he pushed past himself and strode into the room in a bluster of false confidence before he could overthink it further. Before he knew it, he was standing beside Miss Granger, who was stirring the potion in a precarious, absentminded way. The compulsion to protect shoved out all other thoughts from his mind. Alarmed, he reached out to cover her hand with his own, wrapping his long fingers around her palm and forcing her to slow her movements.

Hermione looked up at him, startled.

As soon as he ascertained there was no immediate danger of the brew exploding in their faces, his body calmed and he turned his gaze down onto her upturned, beguiling face. He realized he was in her personal space, so close he could feel the warmth radiating off her petite frame. His mouth watered with the desire to move closer and abolish the sliver of space that still separated their bodies. He swallowed down his baser instinct but did not back away or let go.

“Like this.” His voice was low and husky, and an attractive blush rose to her cheeks. This emboldened him to continue his … seduction? He lowered his mouth to her ear. His breath seemed to tickle her tender skin as she shivered.

“You must go slow, very slow. We are dealing with something quite … volatile. The slightest movement or touch could cause it to erupt. To fall apart.” 

Her breathing shallowed and her small hand began to tremble within his. His middle finger lightly stroked her palm and she gasped. He was finding it hard to resist tasting her adorable earlobe, so he pulled back. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

“N-no, sir.”

Her eyes fluttered and she wet her lips. His own eyes darted down, drawn to their rosy, moist softness like a moth to the flame. Her lips parted as her face tilted up. With a sharp pang, he recalled their oh so brief, tragic kiss that had haunted him ever since the eve of her doomed wedding. Unable to withstand the animal magnetism that pulled his face closer, he bent down intending to capture them within his own and pour out every longing ache and the passionate desire he had concealed and repressed all this time. Just as their lips were about to collide, the sound of shattering glass broke them apart with a gasp.

He turned sharply to glower in the direction of the store room.

“What … what was that?”

He looked back over at her and was disappointed to see she had taken a step back from him and was blinking as though coming out of a trance. She peeked around him, but he blocked her advance before she could go investigate.

“It’s nothing, I assure you. Most likely a large, simpleminded rodent with a death wish.”

“Oh! You wouldn’t really kill it would you? Let me catch it and set it free.”

She tried again to walk around him and he caught her hand, mind racing on how to distract her from the damn closet. 

“I won’t hurt the rat, as much as I may wish to. Put it out of your mind and focus on … this potion. Unless it’s too much for you to handle?”

She was staring down at where his hand had grabbed hers with a look of awed confusion. A couple heartbeats later and she finally shook herself and walked back towards the caldron. He was forced to release her hand but he sighed in relief.

“Of course it isn’t. But I am finding it difficult to concentrate, truth be told.”

Snape put on an air of innocence.

“How strange.” He immediately went back to measuring out ingredients, pretending to be completely engrossed in the task.

He was disconcerted to notice she was spending more time glancing at him than continuing on with the potion. He wasn’t sure what had come over him earlier other than pure desperation, but any courage he had seemed to be slipping away as sand in an hourglass.

“You seem different today.”

He stilled at the sudden declaration, refusing to look at her though he could feel her eyes burning holes into the side of his face.

“Wait … is your hair longer than it was earlier?”

Her hand shot up, fingers sliding through his silky, black strands and his breath stuttered. He reached up automatically to grab her hand and stop the overwhelming feelings her fingers tangling in his hair were arousing. He needed to regain control of this situation, now.

“There’s just something about you that’s … off somehow.” She rose up on tiptoes to … oh sweet Gorgons, to smell him.

Really, Granger? Of course she would notice the minute differences between his two selves. She was always so obnoxiously observant to a fault. He sighed. This was getting out of hand.

“You are different. You smelt of spicy smoke when I first got here. Now, you smell of the woods, musky and dark.” Her eyes widened at her own observation, and he could practically hear all the possible explanations running wild throughout her head.

He suddenly pulled her close and bent down to smell her in return, if only to distract her from her present train of thought. She immediately went pliable in his arms as his nose gently skimmed the curve of her neck, and he was delighted to notice goosebumps rising in his wake. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, groaning at her natural, alluring scent.

“Exquisite,” he breathed against her, and he allowed his lips to brush lightly against her warm skin before pulling back to stare into her heavy lidded eyes. 

“It’s an honor, Miss Granger, that you would deign to notice something so inconsequential as a change in my scent.” His eyes wandered down to her parted lips and he could no longer ignore their silent invitation.

She was achingly perfect, and he proceeded cautiously, letting the tentative meeting of their lips convey how precious she was to him. He kept his kisses light, teasing, Letting her get used to the texture and pressure of his mouth. She was now clinging to his robes and making little intermittent whines, most likely unconsciously. It was sublime, and he never wanted it to end, but too soon she broke her lips away, taking several gulps of air. He continued to hold her close as she regained her composure and her breath. He thrilled at her nearness, at her small hands that still fisted at his robes. She was so delicate, made all the more obvious by their closeness. His heart thrummed violently in his chest, so unused to physical contact. He hoped he wasn’t sweating enough that it was noticeable. If only she knew how ensnared he was, how he would do anything for her. Anything.

She then looked up at him with her piercing, intelligent eyes, and he knew she had a lot of questions. He decided to break the silence first.

“You are correct, as usual, Miss Granger. I am different, and I don’t believe even one in a thousand would have noticed. But you did.” He drew her hand up to his lips and kissed her without breaking eye contact. She began to tremble.

“What … how … I mean … you’re you though, right? My professor?”

He ran his thumb over her hand and a small, wry smile lit his face which made her eyes widen once more.

“Yes, I am still your professor. Only now, my eyes have been opened. I finally see what is most important in this life. I see breathtaking beauty, I see light and goodness and … love. I see you, Hermione.” His hand came up to caress her face as tears filled her eyes. “I’ve been a blind fool, ignorant of what was right in front of me. I beg of you, don’t go out with Weasley.”

Hermione stared at him in confusion and then burst into tearful laughter as she flung herself in his arms, holding him so tightly he grunted in surprise–there was so much strength within her slight frame. He wrapped his arms around her, unsure of how to feel about this mixed response, but hopeful in her desire for physical closeness. Impossibly, her arms tightened even more, and she spoke into his chest, words too muffled to understand. He cupped her face and tilted it up towards him.

“What was that? It’s difficult to hear with your face attached to my person.”

She giggled again, which had been the goal, though he would never admit it. Her eyes, fixed on him, were bright and hopeful making him want to soar. “Is that what brought this on? The idea of Ron asking me out? I never thought …never even imagined you might …” She bit her lip and once more buried her face against his robes. 

He sighed and rubbed soothing circles into her back while his other hand held the back of her head.

“Though I am loath to admit it, yes, it took the walking disaster that is Ron Weasely for me to see the light.” She huffed against his chest, and he smiled, basking in her warmth that was beginning to seep into his body. He silently prayed his other self would refrain from breaking anything else and forced the thought that they were being watched out of his mind. That wasn’t important right now.

Eventually she slowly disentangled herself from his arms and stood back to examine him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. He stiffened, suddenly on guard.

“So, no to Ron then. Agreed, I don’t think he is the best choice for me anyway. Which begs the question, professor. Who would be a good candidate for me? Anyone in particular you have in mind?” She arched her eyebrow at him coyly, and it sparked something primal within him.

Oh, she wanted to play. A wicked smile slowly spread across his face, making her blink and bite her lip. Yes, he would have a bit of fun reminding her who the authority figure was here. He let his eyes leisurely roam over her body, lingering on several delectable spots he would enjoy examining a bit closer later.

Walking around her slowly, he pretended to ponder the questions she had posed to him.

“The real question is,” he slowly drawled. “Could anyone possibly live up to your, no doubt, high expectations, Miss Granger? Before I can satisfactorily put a suitable candidate forward, I would need to know a bit more of the necessary criteria.” He stopped directly behind her and moved her curls aside. He then leaned down and kissed her nape. She gasped, grabbing the work table to steady herself. He smiled against her skin, loving how sensitive she was to his touch. Whispering in her ear, he asked, “What is it you desire, hm?”

She was obviously having immense difficulty getting words out, and he wasn’t helping at all as his hands began to caress her waist, skimming her sides and making her squirm. She was ticklish. He smirked at the new knowledge.

“I–I want someone I can respect. Ah. Someone who … who has similar tastes and enjoys reading and… and … academics.” She was breathless now as one of his hands slipped under her blouse. He dragged his calloused fingertips across her soft belly, back and forth, rising higher and higher on each pass. “Oh … oh gods! You, professor. I want you!”

She twisted in his arms and surged upward, crashing her lips against his. Any remaining self restraint he possessed deserted him as he met her enthusiasm with his own fiery hunger. He silently cast evanesco to clear their work station and hoisted her up to sit on the table, never taking his lips off of hers. He plundered her mouth with his tongue, sloppily drawing out whimpers and moans from her with a lack of finesse he hoped was lost on her. Going on visceral instinct alone, his hands groped her buttocks and squeezed the thick flesh, causing her to squeal in delight. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he pushed himself between her thighs. This caused her skirt to rise dangerously high, and when he felt her rubbing herself against his woolen vest, he broke from her mouth to curse, afraid he might spill in his trousers. Merlin’s beard, he had never experienced anything so erotic, so unbearably sensual.

Her own hands were tangled in his hair and seemed to be pulling his head towards her neck. He eagerly obliged, latching on to her flesh like a bloodsucking leech. She moaned loudly in his ear, falling back on the table and bringing him with her. Bent over her, he hungrily sucked at her flesh as his right hand trailed up her thigh and palmed her soaked knickers. She arched against his hand and he teased her relentlessly with his dexterous fingers, skimming over the wet fabric and brushing against her clit until she was pleading with him between moans. Pulling the fabric aside, he raised his head to gaze at her flushed face as he felt her dewy heat for the first time.

Oh gods, she was perfect. So silky and hot. His mouth gaped open as he ran his fingers along her satin folds over and over until she reached down and gripped his hand, pushing it against her, wanting more. He let his middle finger slip inside her and they both gasped at the delicious feeling. She was so tight he was afraid to move but her body began squirming and undulating against his hand. He let his finger slide deeper, his breathing coming out in harsh pants as he felt his hard cock twitch at the incredibly tight, wet heat. How could he ever hope to enter her if she gripped his finger like that? Fuck, he hoped he would fit.

“Professor, please.”

The desperate tone in her voice brought him back to the present, and he began moving his finger steadily in and out. She whimpered and bucked against him, so he began to finger her a bit faster.

“More!”

He hesitated, but then pushed a second finger inside of her. Holy hell, she squeezed him with her silky walls and it was harder to move. Her hand once more grabbed his own and guided his movements. He began a steady pace and she was bucking against him even harder now. He swiped his thumb against her clit while also putting pressure on her inner walls which caused her to scream out his name which of course made him do it again. And again. And again. Suddenly, her pussy was spasming against his fingers and she wailed, head thrown back, back arched sharply above the table and looking for all the world like she were being tortured. He watched her body in awe as she eventually sunk back down on the table, utterly boneless. He leaned forward to kiss her lips, nose and cheeks. She blinked up at him and gave him a dazzling smile before reaching up to pull him down for another deep, lingering kiss.

They both sat up and she played with his hair, looking at him with eyes so full of affection he thought he might die of happiness. She opened her mouth to speak but then she blinked and stiffened, focusing on something behind him. A look of dawning horror twisted her features and she opened her mouth as though to scream, though no sound came out.

Snape felt his world tilt on its axis.

He didn't have to turn around to know precisely who it was that stood directly behind him.

Chapter Text

“Take your hands off her. NOW.” 

Snape closed his eyes in a futile attempt to block out the train-wreck unfolding around him. He took several deep breaths, and when he opened them again, he was met with intensely bright, furious hazel eyes. He flinched. If looks could kill, he thought despondently.

“As he said. Hands off.” Hermione’s voice was low and menacing. She appeared calm, but the intensity of her death glare said otherwise. He slowly untangled himself, not taking his eyes off of her as though she were a wild thing that could pounce at any sudden movement. He backed away a step from her, hands raised in a placating gesture when her face crumpled in renewed horror. He realized she was looking at his right hand, and he quickly dropped it when he saw it still glistened from her slick. The id part of his brain would have liked to lick his hand clean but knew this was neither the time nor place. He murmured a cleaning spell and stepped back even farther. She wordlessly sat up and fixed her blouse and skirt to cover herself once more before looking back and forth between them with a heavy wariness. She pursed her lips.

“I– I don’t understand what is happening right now, but by the gods, I will before I leave this room.”

“Miss Granger.”

She turned sharply to his younger self who had stepped forward.

“I want to extend my deepest apologies for … for…” He gestured towards his counterpart with a grimace.

“For what exactly? Hiding in the closet while he fingered me? Or for watching?”

Past Snape stiffened and paled.

“I had no idea he would take it that far.” His voice was a fierce whisper as he glowered towards the offending party, as though he had been betrayed somehow. “I would never have allowed this if I had known. It … his behavior shocked me. I never thought I – he – would behave in such an improper fashion. And with a student.”

He swore under his breath. “I should have stopped him.”

Her eyes widened as she seemed to process the full implication of what he just said.

“You …planned this, then…whatever the hell this is. And the foremost thing you are upset about is that your doppelganger took things too far?”

She was practically shouting now and both Snapes looked chagrined.

“I take full responsibility, Miss Granger. As your professor I let you down, I failed to protect you from this … this disgusting cad.”

“I must protest the petty name calling at my expense.” He gave his double a pointed look. He then turned towards Hermione, taking a tentative step towards her. “I’m sorry to have shocked you, but I have no regrets, Hermione. I’ve cared for you secretly, desired to kiss you … to touch you … for so long. I know you feel the same, and once you understand why there are two of me, I truly believe you won’t regret it either. Just… please. Hear our explanation before doing anything … rash.”

“First answer me this. Are either of you my actual professor?”

They both answered yes simultaneously, which only made Hermione’s temper boil over completely as she jumped off the table and bore down on the both of them.

They retreated backwards until their backs hit the wall.

“For fucks sake, this is ridiculous! You can’t both be my professor! As far as I’m concerned, until one of you proves otherwise, you are equally strangers to me.”

She drew her wand and assumed a fighting position. “And as such I consider you highly dangerous. Give me your wands or I will hex the both of you.”

They exchanged grim looks, and immediately future Snape withdrew his wand and set it down on a nearby desk. He looked over at his younger self, his eyes widening when he remained standing there stoically, wand in hand. Oh gods, he thought. Please just go along with whatever Hermione needs to feel safe right now.

After several long suspended moments, he sighed in relief as his other self also, with great reluctance, put down his wand. She waved her own and both of the wands flew through the air and into her lifted palm. She seemed to relax after having them in her possession, and looked at them with renewed intensity, as though deep in thought. Future Snape felt this was a great improvement from her look of fearful rage that she had inflicted on him a moment ago.

“Yesterday, I questioned the order in which you added ingredients to a potion. What was the potion and which ingredients did I want to switch the order of?”

Younger Snape immediately launched into the answer, looking relieved to be back on familiar territory.

“It was the Elixir to induce Euphoria. You questioned the peppermint leaves which counteract side effects from being added in the middle of the process and not the end.”

“Yes.” She spoke quietly now, looking as though the weight of the world were suddenly on her shoulders. She tentatively stepped closer to his past self and studied him closely. It was only when she leaned into his personal space a bit and took a deep breath, making him stiffen and hold his own, that she seemed satisfied.

“It is you.”

She stepped back again before turning to the man she had just allowed to bring her to orgasm.

Her face now bespoke only of pain and betrayal. She opened her mouth several times before she was able to speak.

“I don’t know who you are, but at the moment. I don’t even care. You – you made me believe you were my professor.”

Her voice hitched and she had to take a few calming breaths before continuing. “You caused me to think, for several glorious moments, that he wanted me. That he cared for me. And in doing so, you have laid something bare within myself that I would have dearly wished to keep hidden. And to add insult to injury, you have outed me in front of my professor, exposed me in front of the one person I would least want to see me in such a – such a compromising position.” Her voice fell to an anguished whisper. “You have hurt me more deeply than if you had used an unforgivable curse on my body. Now, I want to speak to my professor alone and ask him the rest of my questions. Just– just leave us.”

Snape stood there horrified, the full force of his error crashing down on him. How could he have have been so stupid, so reckless. He should never have allowed things to proceed so far, so quickly. Not without her knowing who he was. It was dishonest and unfair in so many ways. Feeling more ashamed of himself than he ever had in his life – and he had been a death eater for multiple years – he swallowed his pain and attempted, desperately, to convey how remorseful he was.

“Miss Granger, I’m so, so sorry. I never should have lost control like that. Not without you knowing exactly who I am. Or I should say, when I am. I hope – I hope I haven’t just destroyed the very thing I have come here to save.” His eyes pleaded with her to give him a chance at redeeming himself.

A beat passed and her jaw dropped as she looked at her professor for confirmation.

“It’s true.” He spat out angrily. “This beast of a man is me in two years. Apparently I will someday travel back in time to wreak havoc on you, Miss Granger. It is despicable, and I would understand if from this day forward, you despise my very presence and avoid me henceforth. I thought the worst of my sins were behind me and that I could sink no lower. I was woefully mistaken.”

She looked back and forth between them with a growing look of confusion and disbelief. “I … don’t understand … how? I mean, when did this … what were you … why!?”

“Please, Hermione. Let me explain. I know you want privacy to ask your current professor all your questions, but … I’ve come a great distance to try and change the future. For both our sakes.”

“Both of us … what do you mean? Does something horrible happen in two years?” Her voice started to rise again in pitch.

“Yes. Well, nothing life-threatening, thank the gods, but it is something that will cause both of us extreme heartache and emotional pain.”

“Oh… oh my.” She looked stricken and swayed where she stood. Both men rushed forward to try and steady her, which only caused her to flinch away from their touch. They immediately dropped their hands.

After several deep breaths, she turned to her professor.

“Do you know anything about this?”

“Only what he told me. He appeared in my bedchamber late last night. He was quite … convincing. So, I agreed to help, a decision I bitterly regret now.” He finished while staring at the floor sullenly, still apparently angry over the liberty his future self took.

Hermione stepped closer to him, throwing a wary glance at his double as she whispered. “And you have tested him in some way … you are absolutely certain this is you.”

Snape sighed. “Though I loathe to admit it, yes.”

“Let’s sit in my – our – study–,” Snape quickly corrected himself at the affronted scowl his younger self gave him. “--have some tea and we’ll calmly talk about this. Don’t make me leave, Hermione, I beg of you. Not until you’ve heard what I have to say. Afterwards, if you still wish for me to go, then of course I will. I’ll stay holed up somewhere for the next three days and you won’t ever have to lay eyes on this version of me again.”

Hermione simply stared at him, face rigid, and his heart squeezed painfully. She obviously distrusted him now, and for good reason. He had been swept away by passion, by the rare and precious opportunity practically laid at his feet to respond to her with his whole heart, soul and body – to respond how he desperately wished he had the first time around. He had been given a second chance. And he had blown it. Hopelessness seized him, giving him renewed boldness and he reached out and took her hand, his thumb tenderly caressing the back of hers. Her skin was soft and she felt so small and delicate enveloped in his own rough hand. Giving in to a sudden urge, he bent down to lightly kiss it, causing her to gasp. He looked up into her eyes from his bent position as tears threatened to spill down his cheeks. He spoke to her softly, with great tenderness.

“I never meant to hurt you, Hermione. Please know that. It’s just, I know what it's like to see you marry someone else, to see you become forever lost to me. I’ve never known pain like that before or since, and it emboldens me now.”

“I marry someone else? Is … is that why you came back to this time?” Hermione’s voice was a breathless whisper, shock written all over her face.

“If it were only I that suffered from that choice, I would have grieved the rest of my life in silence.” He took a deep breath. “However, you confessed your feelings to me on the eve of your wedding, and much later on you come to me, a broken diminished shell of your former self –”

“What?!” Hermione interjected. “That’s horrible! How could I be so … thoughtless.” She looked down to hide her shame. Snape moved closer to her and cupped her face, drawing her eyes back to his.

“Please don’t feel bad, Hermione. You had no idea how your revelation would affect me. I was the fool who had hidden his feelings for years. You had no idea what I was concealing, and it nearly crushed me.” He bent to kiss a tear away that had fallen on her cheek. “And that is why I had to come back here, to make the most of the chance given to me to change that bitter, lonely future.” He kissed her other cheek before continuing, mouth close to her ear. “To let you know how I truly feel. My past self never told you, never showed you how much you mean to him. Hermione, I love you.”

Tears now fell freely from her eyes as she slowly shook her head. “No, no this cannot be. I don’t understand, you’ve never shown me anything remotely close to love. Ever. Only this last year, after the war, have you treated me with anything other than irritated contempt. I thought … I thought you couldn’t stand the sight of me.”

“You must know it was all an act, that I was forced to treat you, everyone in actuality, with feigned indifference and at times, cruelty. As you now know, I was leading a double life. That wasn’t and isn’t me, not really. Though in truth teaching young, ignorant brats genuinely infuriated me. Only, you stood out from the rest. Yes, I was unfair and mean towards you, but I always secretly held great respect and admiration for you. For your tenacity and boldness.” He reached up and caressed an errant curl. Your courage left me breathless at times. You were the only one who refused to be cowed by my intimidating glares or sharp tongue. You were and are, utterly magnificent.”

Hermione swayed closer and tipped up her face towards Snape, and he, needing little encouragement, leaned down and placed a gentle, chaste kiss on her lips. He pulled back and gazed into her wide, shining eyes.

A noise startled them out of their warm moment, and they both glanced over at his younger self, who was standing there turning multiple shades of red and looking as though he wanted to flee the room.

“Is this true?” Hermione spoke so low they could barely hear her, and younger Snape gulped.

“Not exactly, no. I do not share the intensity of emotions my older self speaks of, nor the heartache of regret. Not with regards to you. I see you as a student – a brilliant one, yes, like no other I have ever known. But a student all the same. Anything more would be most inappropriate.”

“Oh.” Hermione slumped and pulled away from Snape, and he let her go, feeling once more a trickle of dread crawl down his spine that he would be unsuccessful after all.

He turned to his younger self as he bit down his anger that was threatening to surface once more.

“Inappropriate?” He seethed. “Why don’t you share with the class the dreams you’ve recently been having concerning Miss Granger. You think them … appropriate, do you?

His younger self gasped and started choking on air.

“Shut. Up. ” 

Snape chuckled darkly. “Hardly. I have traveled through time, risking gods knows what, and you think I am going to be silent in order to spare your fragile pride? Oh, I think not. If Hermione wishes, I will tell her, in graphic detail, all the sinful ways in which you have recently been showing your … devotion … to her body in your dreams.”

“You … you wouldn’t dare.” His younger self took a step towards him and looked so indignantly horrified it was almost comical. “I refuse to be a party to this.” He turned to Hermione. “I urge you not to listen to anything this man has to say. I apparently completely lose my mind and utter grasp on propriety in the future.”

Hermione was biting her lip, eyes wide and cheeks a rosy hue, and her breathing seemed to be coming a bit harsher.

“Actually. I think I want to hear more about these dreams.”

Younger Snape drew back as though he were struck.

“However, ” she continued. “I would like to hear about them from your lips, professor.”

He opened his mouth as though to protest when she cut him off.

“If you refuse, then at least explain to me why you watched while your older self had his way with me. On your work table no less. You say you should have stopped him…why didn’t you?”

Snape stood frozen in place, a myriad of emotions flitting across his normally stoic face. Eventually he sighed heavily, walked over to his desk chair and collapsed in it, defeated. 

“I… couldn’t move. I was struck mute and paralyzed at the …” He swallowed thickly. “... sight before me. The noises you were making–” He took a shuddering breath. “And he had his hands all over you, inside you. It … it was torturous to witness.”

His voice dropped to a murmur and he looked down in shame.  “Merlin help me, but I wanted it to be me. I couldn’t look away, like watching a disaster unfold, a beautiful, messy disaster. I felt so helpless, until you …“ He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Finished.” He paused and the silence sat heavily between them all. “Then it was like coming out of a trance. I rushed in to stop it, but it was too late, obviously. The damage was done.”

“Damage?” Hermione took a tentative step towards him.

“Yes. I had deceived you by switching places with my future self, and now I must live with the consequences of that unfortunate decision. I should have just told you what I learned myself – that was the original plan – but I couldn’t seem to get the words out.” He scoffed. “In matters of the heart, I am a coward, Miss Granger.”

She came closer and took a seat on his desk, gently placing a hand on his clenched fist resting on the armchair. She took a shaky breath.

“I see. Well, I can’t imagine the shock you must have gone through, to suddenly be woken by your own self, telling you sad tales of the near future.”

She let go and looked down and continued softly. “As for what just happened, I’m sorry you had to witness that. I … I thought it was you.” Her voice dropped at the admission and she gave a depreciating laugh.

Snape cleared his throat, though his voice was still raspy when he replied.

“I know.”

Those two words, spoken low, seemed to make Hermione wilt where she sat, and many uncomfortable seconds passed before she haltingly continued.

“I can’t even express my shame in words, but I hope we can eventually move past this. I’m willing to overlook the fact you were a quiet observer if you can overlook what my hasty actions revealed about my … feelings … towards you.” She bit her lip and gazed at her professor with trepidation.

“That would be … good.” He spoke rigidly, as though each word was an effort to get out. Hermione shook her head enthusiastically. She looked greatly relieved.

“I understand you are not the same person as your future self. You do not share his … sentiments … towards me. At least, not at this time.” She took a deep breath and quickly continued in a flurry of words. “I am happy to wait for you, if … if that’s something you might want in the future? If not, that's absolutely fine. I’m perfectly fine with that. Or I will be, eventually. I assume that because your future self has come back to speak with us, to warn us, whatever future he came from, both the good and bad, has already been altered. You may never feel the same way towards me as he does now. Again, that is okay. We can remain professor and student to one another, and perhaps one day, even friends. I will graduate soon after all. I just don’t want this to affect our professional relationship. Underneath my feelings for you lie a foundation of respect and admiration that has grown over time–” She chuckled. “-- despite your prickly nature.” She glanced up into his sober face before blushing and looking back down at her hands as he remained silent.

_______________

Snape fidgeted in the corner of the room he had retreated to, not able or willing to leave them alone, as he didn’t trust his past self to handle this with the delicacy and tact Hermione deserved after what they just put her through. Hearing how forgiving and open Hermione was treating him drove him wild, especially as his younger self sat there as useless as a log, barely speaking at all. He could hardly comprehend how reticent his other self was behaving. She had revealed so much to him, both in her previous actions and now explicitly in the words she was saying. How could he remain so calm and collected when he himself could barely contain his ardor. He longed to hold her, to whisper sweet nothings in her ear with hot, passionate breaths as he indulged himself in the exploration of her soft, supple body with his mouth and hands.

Now that he had acknowledged his feelings for her openly, it was like the floodgates had been unlocked and thrust wide open within his heart. What he wouldn’t give to just sweep her out of this unpleasant, ridiculous conversation and take her to his bedroom, to worship her head to toe slowly and methodically.

His past self sat there stiffly while she was now wringing her hands with anxiety. This was not acceptable, but he needed to give his other self time to adjust to this new dynamic. He needed them to connect on a deeper level as he would be leaving in three days. They would have to pick up the pieces of this moment and carry on, without his affectionate encouragement.

A stab of pain shot through him at the idea that he had changed the future to the point that he would no longer exist, exactly as he was. The beginnings of his love had first developed during this exact time that he had tutored her in her last year. But they had grown exponentially after she had turned to the Weasley boy and he realized he had lost something precious. Watching her give herself to another, the pain of regret that experience had brought as well as the knowledge that it could have all been different if he had just spoken up, had quickly matured the love he had for her to significant heights over the next two years.

Without that experience, would his past self ever come to appreciate or even know how beautiful and rare a treasure Hermione was? Or would he continue to hide and stamp down the burgeoning feelings within him, never allowing them to blossom into their full potential? The idea that he would remain ignorant to what he was losing as she slipped through his fingers like sand, caused his blood to run cold.

He couldn’t permit that to happen. He would have to do his best to essentially stoke a fire under his other self’s arse, to force him to realize what was at stake and to act on it. To not let Hermione elude them once more when she was right here, untethered to any other person and looking at him with her whole heart in her eyes.

An idea began to form in his mind as he watched their stilted, mostly one sided conversation. His dark eyes glinted with mischief as a sly smile flitted across his face. His past self had reacted quite strongly to seeing them together on the table. It had even caused him to give away his hidden position and ultimately forced him to admit he had wanted it to be him that was touching her so intimately. An admission like that, without the help of veritaserum, was no easy feat. Perhaps he should allow his baser self free reign, to take a few more delectable liberties while his other self was near. This may be the very thing needed to push him out of his carefully crafted control and make him see the true extent they stood to lose if they messed this chance up.

Now that he had a plan, he calmed considerably. He felt confident it just might work. The question was, should he include Hermione in on the plan? Would she be willing to go to such lengths to push her professor into admitting he cared for her more than just a student … that he not only felt lust but the beginnings of something infinitely more tender?

He would have to weigh the pros and cons. He hated the idea of deceiving her, but what if her great conscience and heart got in the way? He loved her dearly, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use that to both of their advantage … to seduce her once more in plain sight of his other self. Yes, it just might work.

_____________________________

Snape was at a loss for words as Hermione sat before him. He couldn’t believe he had admitted to wishing it were him out there touching her so brazenly. So inappropriately. As her professor, those sorts of thoughts should never have even entered into his mind, no matter the circumstances. A better man would have stopped it immediately. Ideally, he should have never gone along with the absurd plan to begin with. He was failing her, failing himself. Those blasted erotic dreams had planted seeds of perversion in his mind.

She was a delight, brilliant and full of life, yes, but he could appreciate someone’s qualities without dragging their lovely image into the gutter of his filthy imagination.

He looked at her and his heart sank. She was waiting for him to respond, and he could not even begin to know what to say. He didn’t love her, not in the way he apparently did in the future. He had however, given in to temptation and touched himself, now on three occasions, after waking from said dreams. So yes, he lusted for her, but that was all it was, all he would ever allow himself. He knew very well at the end of the year, she would graduate and he would not see her again. End of story. And now she was asking if she should wait for him, if he would ever consider her in the future. How could she even contemplate him as an option? They were yin and yang, light and darkness. Complete opposites. Not to mention that he has acted the complete arse for the last several years of their acquaintance. How could he pursue her for himself? How selfish he had become in the future, to seek out his own happiness at the expense of hers.

True, Weasely had made her miserable, so he would do everything in his power to keep them apart while she was still a student under his care. After that, her life was her own. There were so many better qualified wizards out there, and she had a good head on her shoulders. He would simply step aside and let her go. He would right the wrongful attempt he makes in the future to claim her, as though he deserved such an incredible witch as she. 

This whole scheme was ludicrous, and he would go to whatever lengths necessary to keep his future self from defiling her further. He would give her that at least, and perhaps it would help ease his conscience a bit. He glanced over at his other self and narrowed his eyes. He didn’t trust him or the way he was devouring Miss Granger with his eyes.

There better not be a next time, but if there were, he would step in before things got out of hand. He sighed with relief at the thought he only had to worry about this for three days. He most likely was wasting energy fretting about it. What harm could his future self inflict in such a short amount of time?

______________________________

Hermione squirmed where she sat on the edge of the hard, unforgiving desk, as a strong feeling of unreality slowly enveloped her. She was in the middle of one of the most difficult conversations of her life with her stoic as ever professor, while his double was in the corner of the room, smoldering eyes boring into her like a physical touch. She tried not to pay any attention to him, to not even glance over, but she couldn't help herself. The expression on his face … it made her insides tingle and a longing rise up within her, making her almost breathless with need. His intent gaze promised so much, and she shivered at the memory of what his talented fingers were capable of. She swallowed down a groan and valiantly tried to focus once more on this painful conversation. Looking back at her professor’s grim face helped bring her back to reality, though, and she sighed.

Life was so cruel. It was giving her a glimpse of what it would be like to be loved, even cherished, by Snape, but in three days he would be gone … most likely forever. She couldn't imagine her current professor one day having those intense feelings for her. She bit her lip and wondered what she should do. She didn’t want to cause him any more discomfort than she already had with the forced revelation of how she felt about him. He clearly was not at a place where he wanted to even discuss feelings with her, and it made her heart heavy. It was silly, really, as she had never really believed she had a chance with him anyway. But earlier, when she had thought that it was her professor that was kissing her, touching her, and telling her such beautiful things, her heart had soared. She had felt light as a feather, so overcome with happiness that it had felt like whiplash to then be faced with his true self and his grim, distant face once more. It was a face she had grown to love, but the harsh contrast to the man exuding sexual energy, towards her no less,  was incredibly jarring. Another wave of unreality washed over her and she forced herself to continue on.

“Professor? Please, tell me what you are thinking. I’ve shared where I’m at, all my secrets are now laid bare. Could I ask you to do the same?”

He swallowed and glanced up at her, his face unreadable.

“To be honest, Miss Granger, I would like to continue as we have been, with professional respect for one another. I feel it is best, for both our sakes–”

He was interrupted by a loud snort from the corner of the room, and he turned to glare at his other self.

“Oh for gods’ sake, save us the cock-and-bull.”

Snape strode over and crouched down in front of Hermione, taking her hand in his and pausing until he had her full attention.

“How would you like to get out of here and have dinner with me, hmm? I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” He turned her hand over and placed a lingering kiss on her palm, causing her breath to hitch.

She trembled as his thumb began to lightly caress her skin and was momentarily speechless. Before she could respond, her professor stood abruptly.

“That is out of the question. You are not to take her anywhere. You’ve said what you came to say, now kindly fuck. Off.”

Snape smirked at the crude language, a sign he was definitely getting under his skin. Oh, this would be fun.

“Is that so? And how do you intend to stop her from leaving? She is an adult and can make her own decisions after all. Will you threaten to tie her to your bed? But perhaps that may just be the incentive needed to make her want to stay.”

He might have gone too far with that suggestion as Hermione was also looking aghast. 

“That’s enough of that! I will not allow such flippant language concerning me.” She gave him a stern look and he affected a meek expression.

“Nor will I be detained against my will.” She then turned to her professor. “Sir, we will absolutely continue as we have been. Thank you for your willingness to overlook today’s unfortunate happenings. However, I see no harm in spending time with your future self. I would like to ask him more questions about the future. I want to know exactly what I need to avoid in the coming days.”

She moved towards the door.

“I’m actually quite hungry and feeling a bit weary from everything. Professor, erm Sir? I’m not sure what to call you. You are no longer my professor in your time, after all.”

“Call me Severus, please. I've been taking the liberty of calling you Hermione, so it is only fair.”

She glanced nervously at her professor, who was silently fuming at the both of them.

“I don’t know, it seems a bit too personal. I wouldn’t want to get in the habit of being overly familiar with you.”

Snape reached out and drew her into his arms, letting his hands pull her tightly against his body. He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“You can be as familiar with me as you wish. In fact, it would give me great pleasure. ”

A small moan escaped her lips but in the next moment, she was pulled from his arms and held in another, equally strong pair of hands.

“Do not touch her! I’d hate to have to maim you permanently, as it would be akin to madness, considering we are one and the same. But just now, I’m sorely tempted. Don’t try my patience.

He looked down into Hermione’s wide eyes and froze, as though it just then occurred to him that he was holding her close. He looked down and inhaled sharply, as her hands rested against his chest. 

Hermione felt dizzy with her professor’s sudden nearness and held very still, not wanting to startle him. She gulped at the feel of arms around her, as he had yet to let go. After gazing at one another for several hushed moments, he gently pulled away and stood back from her, a tortured expression flitting across his features.

“I apologize, Miss Granger. I don’t know what came over me. Of course you can go to dinner, but may I escort you? I do not trust my future self, and I cannot bear the thought of him taking advantage of your vulnerable state.”

Hermione took a deep breath, mourning the loss of his touch.

“That is very thoughtful of you professor. Of course you can come … I enjoy your company very much. I hope that is not improper for me to say."

Snape suddenly looked very uncomfortable, and his cheeks and nose turned a rosy pink. It was adorable, but Hermione quickly averted her eyes so as not to draw attention to it.

“Well then, that’s settled.” His future self loudly declared, startling both of them. He held out his arm to her and she hesitated, glancing at her professor. He stiffly nodded his grudging approval, and she took his arm.

“Where will you take us, sir?”

Snape smiled wryly down at her, a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh I know just the spot. You’ll love it, I promise. It’s quiet and romantic, a hidden gem that will give us the privacy we require. The three of us will enjoy ourselves immensely.”

With that he glanced at his younger, morose self, waiting for him to grab his other arm. “Coming,  Severus? Or have you changed your mind?”

His other self cursed but finally took his arm as well, and they were immediately whisked away.

Chapter Text

Hermione could not stop her widening eyes from drinking in her surroundings with a growing sense of awe. They were outside what appeared to be a large bamboo hut hidden in a rainforest, and just a few feet away from the front door was a spectacular waterfall complete with a deep, crystalline pool, wild, exotic birds and an abundance of leafy vegetation. She spun around and around in circles, completely mesmerized at where they had apparated to. She had never seen a place so beautiful, so absent of the hustle and bustle of city life … so pure and tranquil in its natural beauty. Though she had only just arrived, she was already dreading the thought of leaving this place, this beautiful, enchanting paradise.

The air was thick with the scent of rain and the sweet, almost cloying fragrance of lilies, passion flowers, orchids and many other species of flowers she could not quite identify. Taking a closer look at the vegetation, Hermione’s heart thrilled at the variety of plants surrounding them, many of which were rare ingredients to complex potions. She felt giddy with excitement and longed to explore deeper into the jungle.

She took several steps towards the thick foliage when she caught sight of her very bare legs and gasped. Taking in her attire for the first time, she was stunned to find she was dressed for the tropics. Gone were her thick wizarding robes. She now adorned loose, khaki shorts that were miles above her knees and a white, moisture wicking sleeveless chemise that was both comfortable and disconcertingly sheer. She was relieved to also see a pale pink camisole underneath. But still, the warm humidity was already causing it to cling to her curves. She gulped and shot a disapproving look over at future Snape. His mouth twitched as his sharp eyes flitted down her body, lighting up as he took her in.

She was just about to confront him about her new clothes, when her brain finally caught up with the fact that he had also modified his own attire. Her mouth positively flopped open like a fish as she gaped at his white cotton shirt which had a deep, v-neck with undone laces giving her a never before glimpse of his pale chest. She briefly noticed his loose fitting beige trousers and bare feet as he began to walk closer to her, but try as she might, she could not drag her eyes away from that tantalizing strip of skin boldly on display. Not even during the war had she seen him in anything less than three layers of woolen darkness, fully buttoned up to his Adam’s apple, and that wasn’t even counting the impenetrable robe he always wore on top of that. She swallowed the pool of saliva that had gathered in her mouth, and it wasn’t until his finger lightly traced down her bare arm, that her eyes shot up to his, and the intensity of his gaze made her breath hitch. Merlin’s beard, he was looking at her as though he wanted to devour her whole. 

A recent, delicious memory flashed across her mind of her sprawled across his work bench like an all you can eat buffet for one, coming spectacularly on his talented fingers.

“Welcome to my humble dwelling. Do you find it to your liking?”

His deep, reverberating voice brought her crashing back to the present, and she had to remind herself that this wasn’t her professor. Not really. He was an unknown man from the future, a man who apparently was infatuated with her and was now making an incredibly romantic overture in order to win her affection.

Fucking hell.

It hurt. It hurt so bloody much, couldn't he understand that? Having only just begun to move past the shock of seeing him, two of him, it was really cementing in her mind that this version of Snape was a mirage. A beautiful dream that would never come to be, not anymore. His very presence here now was changing the future in an irrevocable way, and though it didn’t make any sense, the fact saddened her considerably. She shouldn’t wish for his future, the one where they were both miserable and apart from one another.

She saw his face crinkle in concern at her prolonged silence, so she forced words to come out of her mouth, wincing at how small and breathless her voice sounded.

“What is this place? It’s … breathtaking.”

A small smile flitted across Snape’s face, and he almost glowed with gratification at her words.

“You should ask your professor … I’m sure he would appreciate the opportunity to enlighten you on how this place came into being.”

She turned to the dark, formidable presence on the other side of the clearing. He was dressed as he always was, and had been unnaturally quiet this whole time. He didn’t look surprised to find himself in this place, but he did not look particularly happy about the turn of events either. He glanced over at her before quickly diverting his eyes, a faint blush high on his sharp cheekbones. She huffed, realizing her revealing clothing was off putting to him. Throwing a halfhearted glare at future Snape, she slowly approached him as one would a frightened animal. When she stood next to her professor, patiently waiting for him to explain what this place was, he finally looked back at her with a look of resignation. 

“This is my bolt-hole.”

“Your … bolt-hole?”

He nodded, then looked up at the falls, allowing the spray to envelope him, echoes of more formidable days still etched into his somber face. He looked so weary, so very lost, that Hermione had to hold herself back from reaching out and embracing him, of attempting to give him comfort. She scolded herself, knowing he would not want that, not from her.

He continued softly, lost in his own thoughts, as though he had already forgotten she was there as he relived the past.

“I created this oasis during the war as a place to heal, to rest as I recovered from whatever horrors had befallen me on any given day. The hospital wing at Hogwarts was too open, it always made me feel vulnerable to prying eyes. I never knew who I could trust in those days. Not to mention that Pomfrey would dote on me to the point of exhaustion.” His face softened. ”She cared for me more thoroughly than my own mother ever did.”

Hermione was at a loss for words, but her heart ached for him. She knew the war had changed him in ways she may never fully understand. He had also softened from his experience, evidenced by how his attitude had changed towards her during this past year, but he also seemed to not ever be fully present. He acted as though he were far removed from the mundanity of daily life to the point that he was living and breathing on auto pilot. She could not imagine the horrors he had endured which caused him to disassociate from the peaceful life he now lived after the war.

She startled when future Snape stepped close to her and took her hand, his thumb gently rubbing circles on the back of hers. When she glanced back at her professor, his eyes had left the waterfall and was now glowering at their joined hands. She instinctively pulled her hand away, not wanting to upset him further.

Future Snape sighed, wry amusement playing at his lips.

“This place has concealment wards so powerful that no one would be able to find it unless I brought them here myself.”

“Oh, that’s … impressive. Is any of this real? Or is it all magic?” She looked around again in amazement.

“The location is real enough, but I have modified it to my exact specifications and wishes. The hut however…” He smirked down at her, causing a fresh bloom of desire to fill her stomach at the dark promise dancing in his eyes.

“... is pure magic. Here, let me show you.” He held out his arm for her to take once more, and as she reached out for him, she inwardly cursed her trembling hand which belied how strongly she was affected by all of this. How affected she was by him.

The bamboo hut was gorgeous, complete with two stories and a wrap around veranda at the top. They passed the bottom floor which had double doors swung invitingly wide open. It looked to primarily consist of a large bedroom, with an enormous king sized poster bed being the most prominent fixture, sitting conspicuously in the center of the room. It was covered with a black, satin comforter and had several silver accent pillows. Each corner had a beautiful wooden column which had intricate carvings covering it completely. She immediately wondered if they consisted of spells and was so curious to read them. Draped across the top and down the sides were delicate mesh curtains. They were pulled aside with small, braided cords but would most certainly wrap around the entire bed, giving only the barest hint of privacy.

Unbidden, an intrusive thought flitted through Hermione’s mind: There is plenty of space for three people.

She blinked and stopped abruptly, horrified that such a thing would ever cross her mind and wondered where in the hell it came from. Future Snape quietly turned to her with a raised, quizzical eyebrow.

“Something the matter, Hermione?”

“Oh! No, not at all. I’ve just … I mean, I don’t think I’ve seen a bed that large before.”

Blushing furiously at the ridiculous observation, she averted her eyes from the bed with difficulty and took in the rest of the room, willing herself not to embarrass herself further. It is just a harmless piece of furniture Hermione! Merlin’s sake! She was so focused on chastising herself that she missed the very different looks that passed between both Snapes above her head: one of irritated suspicion and the other full of faux innocence.

The bedroom also contained a side lounge sofa, an impressive dresser, and desk in the far corner, all made from bamboo. There was an open door which most likely led to the bathroom. On the other side of the room was a floor to ceiling bookcase. Hermione’s eyes lit up, and she wished to go in and explore further, but future Snape was leading her towards the stairs to the second story.

She glanced back wistfully, and saw that her professor was following along behind them as silent and sullen as a waning crescent moon. She bit her lip and felt a pang of guilt. This place was obviously special to him, filled with memory, perhaps good and bad, and she was an outsider. An intruder. He would never have brought her here on his own. She sighed and continued up the steps. The man at her side now placed his hand on the small of her back to help guide her and maybe even to catch her if she stumbled. The idea made her smile. Brilliant she was – graceful she was not. Future Snape clearly knew her well. There were a lot of stairs, and she was suddenly thankful she was not scared of heights.

When they reached the top her breath hitched, and she nearly choked on nothing. She had been dazzled when they first arrived, but that first glimpse didn’t hold a candle to the spectacular view before her now. The sun was setting, and it painted the sky in vibrant shades of pinks, purples, and oranges. The hut must also be situated on a hill, for she could see a vast portion of the rainforest and its gentle rolling hills. Many plants were wet, so they sparkled in the dying light, creating tiny rainbows as far as the eye could see.

Forgetting all of her worries and how self conscious she was just moments before, she ran to the balcony railing and leaned against it in a child-like excitement she had not felt in years. An overjoyed peal of laughter burst from her mouth at the beauty all around, and several parrots flew into the sky from their sleepy perches chittering and squawking their annoyance at being startled. She stood there losing all sense of time and self, just breathing in her surroundings and feeling a deep sense of peace that she hoped she would be able to take with her after this moment.

The delicious aroma of food broke her from her daydreaming, and she turned her attention to the small table in the middle of the veranda, set for three. The zaisu chairs sat on tatami mats intimately on the floor. The food looked mouthwatering, and her stomach grumbled at the reminder of how hungry she actually was. She glanced up at the floating lanterns, blinking at the soft, romantic light. This whole place was right out of a romance novel, a perfect honeymoon spot, and she felt once more out of place at being there. 

She turned and saw future Snape lounging on the wrap around wooden bench that extended the full length of the veranda, a drink in his hand. The cushions were, of course, midnight black, with red lace along the trim. He was studying her with undisguised interest, and she felt herself flush at the attention. How bold he becomes in a couple years in matters of the heart, or at least matters of desire, Hermione mused. She then felt a sliver of resentment, perhaps unfairly, as she also contemplated how many other witches his future self had brought here … he was being far too suave and debonair for this to be his first time. He was so very different from the professor she knew and was coming to love.

She looked over at the man who held her heart as he stood gazing out at the horizon as she had just been doing, an indiscernible expression on his face. She couldn’t imagine him at this point in his life trying to sweep anyone off their feet with their magical surroundings. He created this place as an escape from the world, a place for him to heal, both physically and maybe even spiritually. It came out of a love of nature and the dreamy, curative properties it held. The idea of him using it as a means of seduction was laughable.

She walked over to him, and waited for him to look down at her.

“Professor, I apologize.”

He lifted an eyebrow.

“For…?”

She sighed. “This place, how many people have you brought here?”

He snorted, turning once more to face out into the jungle.

“I would think the answer obvious, Miss Granger. But if you must have it spelled out for you, absolutely no one.”

She repressed a smile at his gruffness, a quality that had in recent months become endearing to her, as she easily saw past it to the vulnerable man underneath.

“Exactly, sir. Which is why I am so very sorry. I shouldn’t be here. I respect you too much to overstep, to make you uncomfortable. We can have dinner somewhere less … personal.”

“Your apology is unnecessary. I brought you here.” He refused to make eye contact with her, and somehow it gave her courage to say what was burning on her mind.”

“Sir, this place is so lovely. I’ve never been anywhere that felt so safe and tranquil in my entire life. I would be overcome with gratitude if I thought you wanted to share something so special with me, but we both know that isn’t the case. You did not bring me here, a future version of yourself did. But, he isn’t you. Not really. He is merely a pale copy that I do not understand.”

This brought a slow grin to his face as he finally turned to look at her, and Hermione’s heart soared at the beautiful expression. Soft music began to play from somewhere within the hut, and she glanced over to see his other self had conveniently disappeared.

“Miss Granger, am I to understand you find my future self … obnoxious?” His eyes twinkled and she laughed despite herself. She always knew he had a sense of humor, but it was a rare thing to see in action.

Forcing herself to show a gravity she did not feel, she nodded slowly.

“Oh, yes, professor. He is most obnoxious.” She glanced around to make sure his future self was still out of hearing range. Stepping closer to him, she leaned in conspiratorially close. His eyes widened fractionally, and she thought she heard his breath hitch. She had to be imagining it though, this was her professor, after all … not his Don Juan alter ego who desired her unreservedly.

“I’m not sure what he has planned for the duration of his … visit, but I fear he will try to antagonize you and in some way attempt to superficially create … something … between us.”

“Something? Could you elaborate?”

She took a deep breath, and looked up into his eyes, biting her lip. She was surprised when his own eyes were drawn to her mouth, but it gave her hope. She was whispering now that he was forcing her to be more explicit than necessary.

“I think you know what I mean, sir, but this place is so … so … romantic, wouldn’t you say? He has now left us alone and …” She paused for a moment to listen to the music that wafted towards them from somewhere inside. “And I do believe those are violins playing.”

Snape simply lifted an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

Hermione’s exasperation had met its limit.

“Oh for gods’ sake, sir! Maybe my concern is unfounded, maybe you truly are unaffected by all of this. I just wanted to warn you, as it seemed you were vexed when he touched me earlier.”

Snape’s face clouded over and he stiffened.

“There, see? It does bother you, admit it.”

“Of course it bothers me, Granger, but I fail to see your point?”

“My point is that it shouldn't! At all!!” She paused before hurrying on, hoping he wouldn’t catch her white lie.

“I am immune to his charms, you needn’t worry.”

Snape’s gaze sharpened and it was her turn to become breathless as he leaned down into her personal space, their faces a hair's breadth apart.

“Is. that. so.”

She gulped, feeling suddenly naked before him as his eyes appeared to penetrate her very soul.

“Y-yes.”

“You did not seem so … immune … when he had his fingers inside of you.”

Hermione blanched at his crass reminder. It took a few moments before she could find her voice, and she trembled as she suddenly wanted to cry. Eventually she felt calm enough to answer, and she lifted her chin in an attempt to reclaim her dignity.

“And those are the words of a gentleman?” She felt slightly vindicated at the grimace that passed over his features. “I find it beneath you to rub that in my face… you know very well I thought it was you.” Her voice wavered at the admission. “A mistake I assure you will not happen again.”

She paused to breathe a moment, trying to swallow the emotion that was attempting to eradicate her composure. “I see now how ridiculous it was to think you could ever respond to me in that way.” The smile she now plastered across her face was one of bitterness.

“If I ever find myself in your arms again, I will know exactly who it is that is actually holding me. Now if you will excuse me, I suddenly find myself missing your future self.”

She turned to stalk off, but he reached out and took hold of her arm to stop her. She glanced down surprised at the sensation of his large, warm hand enveloping her bare skin. She looked up to scowl at him but paused at the desperate look in his eyes.

“... Professor?”

“You mustn't let him touch you again. Please.”

The word please sounded so foreign in his low, authoritative baritone, but she refused to capitulate so easily.

“And why shouldn’t I? It’s not as though you want to touch me.” She felt a little silly saying it, as he ironically was now gripping both of her arms and pulling her closer. He was literally touching her skin right now, and his nearness and masculine scent made her dizzy. She shook herself and barreled on ahead, refusing to be sidetracked by her own misplaced feelings. “What possible reason could you have in wanting me to stay away from him?”

“He’ll be gone in three days, in case it slipped your mind. And what then? Will you expect that sort of behavior from me?”

Hermione’s temper flared.

“Of course not, don’t be an imbecile. I told you earlier I am content to continue as we have been, as pupil and teacher. I meant what I said, and it’s insulting for you to assume that my mind would change so flippantly. I know full well that other man is not you! He will never be you! I’m convinced of that more than ever with each passing second, and it’s tearing me apart. Now, let me go!”

Her voice had risen in volume, and she struggled in a futile attempt to extricate herself from his firm hold. So much for remaining composed.

“Miss Granger! Stop struggling so and just listen to me!”

She glared up at him with tear filled eyes. His arms were now holding her flush against his chest, and though it was a heady feeling, she refused to give it any significance. It meant nothing, he was just trying to control her actions, something he had no right to do! Why shouldn’t she make the most of this opportunity to explore what could have been with the man she loved? She may never again know what it felt like to be desired … to be loved in return. And when he disappeared in three days hence, she would pick up the pieces and move on. She was highly trained in the art of surviving after all. She would be fine.

“There is nothing you could possibly say that I would deem worth hearing at present, and I refuse to be manhandled and bent to your will. Let me be!”

“You’re wrong, Granger! Altogether wrong.”

She stilled and barked out an incredulous laugh.

“I’m. Wrong. That’s the important thing you have to say? What am I wrong about, or better yet, when am I ever right in your eyes? Don’t bother answering, it was rhetorical.”

Snape sighed heavily.

“Even so, I’ll tell you. You’re right that it was unchivalrous of me to allude to what happened earlier. I apologize for my … insensitivity.” He paused as though the word was foreign to him. “It was cruel, and I regretted it the moment it left my mouth.” He paused and swallowed. “I am truly sorry, Miss Granger. Concern for your well being has caused me to react in unbecoming ways, I admit that. But you are wrong about everything else.”

“What am I wrong about, exactly!?”

She stared up into his fathomless, black eyes, and she could no longer dismiss the fact that he was holding her in an intimate embrace. His warm, spiced breath filled her senses, revealing the fact that their mouths were dangerously close together. His wool robe was rubbing against her bare legs and arms with delicious friction, and she went soft and pliable in his arms, willing her body to resist chasing the sensation by grinding against the hard planes of his body. This was her professor, not his future, more sexually liberated self. She needed to exercise restraint more than ever, but she felt herself slipping down a long dark hole of yearning without any chance of someone to catch her fall.

“You are wrong to think of my future self and me as two separate people. He and I are one and the same, and neither of us can be trusted where you are concerned.”

He gazed down on her unwaveringly, and Hermione blinked, trying to wrap her mind around what he was saying. It didn’t make any sense … he could not be any more different than his future self. Besides their identical appearance, she would almost go as far as to say that they were polar opposites of each other. It actually made her feel a little better to think of them as separate individuals. Especially since she would very much like to revisit their earlier intimacy, as bad an idea as that was. But if she were able to separate them inside her mind, whatever happened between them would not affect how she behaved and felt towards her professor. They were different.

“The only thing separating us are his life experiences from the past two years along with all the emotional baggage that comes with it. Whatever happened to me, it clearly caused me to lose any modicum of self control whatsoever.” His voice dripped with disdain as he gripped her tighter, and she gasped when she felt a hardness press against her belly.

Oh holy fucking caldrons. 

It took a mighty effort not to reach for him, to grope him through his trousers, though her hands itched to do so.

“What are you saying, professor? You made it clear you do not feel as he does, do not want me, as he does.”

He shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. When he looked at her again she could see his pupils were blown wide with an unveiled lust she had never before seen in his gaze before.

“You are mistaken once more, Miss Granger, to equate my reticence for lack of desire. I–” He swallowed before continuing. “I respect you too much to act on it. You deserve so much more than a one night stand, something dirty and meaningless.” His voice hardened. “Because make no mistake, that is all it would be, all I could ever offer. I don’t do relationships. ” He sneered as he spat the word out, as though the very idea tasted sour on his tongue.

Even as her heart stung at the finality of his words that marked the death to all of her hopes, her body unconsciously wiggled against his hardness. He flinched as though he had been burned, immediately releasing her and taking a step back.

Goddamn her rebellious body.

The physical distance he put between them helped solidify all he had said. He didn’t want her, at least not all the parts that made her who she was. He only lusted for flesh, a biological reaction that he could not control.

“Well then, since you find your desire for my body so distasteful, I’ll be out of your hair immediately. It seems I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

She rushed towards the large doors leading inside, eyes already searching for his future self, when his words stopped her in her tracks.

“As I said, Miss Granger. I brought you here. You are … welcome to stay … to dine … for as long as you wish."

She closed her eyes without turning, counting to ten in her head to keep from lashing out in anger, a reaction she sometimes fell back on when in pain.

“Are you deliberately trying to confuse me, professor? You most certainly did not bring me here, your other self did.”

She could hear the soft steps of his approach and held her breath until he stopped directly behind her.

“I have brought you here on several occasions before today, in my dreams.”

She turned to him then, eyes wide.

“What?”

He averted his eyes in what must be shame.

“During the past few months I’ve had … multiple dreams … of you.” He cleared his throat. “They are sexual in nature. In them, I bring you here. Just the two of us. I take you to the bed downstairs, the one that disconcerted you when you saw it.”

She opened her mouth to deny it, but he waved a dismissive hand and continued.

“Seeing you with my future self, what he did to you in my lab, reminded me of those dreams. I realized as soon as we arrived that I had been the one to summon us to this location. So, when I say you are most welcome here, it is because, on some subconscious level, I’ve wanted to bring you here for a very long time.”

“It’s true, Hermione.”

She spun to see his other self approaching them, a soft smile on his face.

“I purposefully kept my mind blank when he took my arm. I had a feeling he would do the rest, and I was not disappointed. But we have kept you from dinner long enough, let’s eat shall we?”

_________________________

Future Snape’s heart sank as he surreptitiously watched Hermione during dinner. He tried to draw her into conversation, to make her laugh, but she had lost the bright vibrancy she had arrived with. Her eyes remained downcast as she picked at her food, and he felt wholly responsible. He had thought giving the two of them a chance to speak alone might urge them to connect, to bond on a more intimate level. He had actually hoped maybe… just maybe… bringing her to the backdrop of those erotic dreams would compel his other self to admit to the budding feelings within his heart. He had grossly underestimated how pig headed and stubborn his past self could be.

His ludicrous declaration that he would never want anything more than a one time fuck was the most idiotic thing he had ever heard. More than that, it was a bold faced lie. He saw straight through the pitiful bluff to the fear behind it. Fear of being inadequate. Fear of failing her, of falling irrevocably, helplessly in love. And ultimately, fear of being discarded eventually for a younger wizard when she grew tired of his fumblings.

Snape knew the truth his past self so desperately wanted to hide: he was a textbook, insecure virgin.

At this point in his life he had not so much as kissed another soul. Dreams were all he had to keep him warm at night, aside from his own hand.

Now, he was certainly no virgin. Several months after Hermione had gotten married, Snape found himself getting drunk in The Leaky Caldron. He was trying to drown the incessant pain in his cup, when a warm hand had settled on his forearm just as he was about to take another swig. He could barely make out her features through the haze of alcohol, but his heart had lurched when he saw brown curls …curls that were reminiscent of another.

She had brazenly asked him to buy her a drink and he accepted immediately, shocked and intrigued by the attention. They sat there drinking for another hour when she propositioned him. He simply nodded, allowing her to lead him to an upstairs room. They fucked for hours until he passed out.

He awoke to a splitting headache and an empty wallet.

After that night, he sought after meaningless company multiple times a week. He came to learn that after several beers, witches found him less reprehensible. It did nothing to soothe the heartache, but for a few short hours, it numbed the suffocating reality that living without one’s great love brought. He wasn’t proud of his behavior during that time in his life, but it had gotten him through some dark nights.

Now he watched despondently as his own self-sabotaging behavior negatively affected Hermione, and it was unacceptable. He was going to stop this madness and call the whole thing off. He suddenly realized how selfish his plan was in attempting to force his past self into action by making him jealous. It was a huge risk at the expense of Hermoine’s feelings, and all at once it was a risk he was no longer willing to take. She must be protected at all costs, and if that meant keeping her away from himself and his half baked plan to have her, so be it. The entire point of all of this was to give Hermione and himself a second chance at happiness together, but if his past self was not even going to make an effort, then clearly he did not deserve her. Fucking prick.

They spoke little as they ate, but as soon as she was finished he asked her if she would like to take a stroll with him. She had glanced over at her professor, but he simply dabbed at his mouth, got up from the table, and walked inside without a word. Her shoulders immediately slumped, and her acceptance to his offer was half hearted at best. 

He led her outside and around to the back to view the garden. He was happy to see her eyes light up at the large selection of vegetables and herbs that grew here year round. He answered all her questions on fertilization, temperature control, watering as well as sunlight. It was a comfort to discuss something so innocuous but also genuinely interesting for both of them. He picked several strawberries and gave them to her to munch on as they talked. They eventually wandered past the garden and into the darkening forest, and she seemed to forget her sorrow as she continued to pepper him with questions on the wild flora and fungi that grew all around them. When he was sure they were out of earshot from the hut, he turned to her, growing serious. 

“Hermione, I have to tell you how sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you.”

She looked up at him with sad eyes before continuing to walk slowly down the dirt path.

“Which part specifically?”

He winced at the insinuation that multiple aspects of his behavior had hurt her, and he felt shame like a weighted blanket envelope him. He stopped abruptly, finding himself no longer able to put one foot in front of another.

“Everything, Hermione. I should not have come here, and I am so, so sorry.”

She turned back to look at him, and he wasn’t sure if the surprise on her face was due to the fact he had stopped walking or because of the raw emotion in his eyes.

Approaching him cautiously as a tear slid down his cheek, she reached up and gently wiped it away with her thumb, caressing him with such tenderness he thought he might burst. He reached up to hold her hand against his face and closed his eyes in an attempt to hide the depth of his emotions. He loved her so very, very much, but it would be unfair of him to say that again to her now. Not when he had to soon leave her with an emotionally unavailable version of himself. 

“I won’t interfere with your life anymore, Hermione. I only wanted to stop you from making a choice you would regret. So please, do not marry Ron. He won’t make you happy.”

“I see.”

His eyes sprang open as he felt her soft lips against his own.

“Thank you for coming so far to tell me that, sir.”

He groaned and leaned down to return the kiss.

“Please.” He was breathless now as he drank deeply from her lips. “Call me Severus.” His hands tangled in her hair and he pulled her closer to him, unable to get enough of her.

“Alright. Severus, would you make me happy?”

He smiled wistfully at her, his thumb running along her bottom lip now rosy and bruised from his ardor. 

“I would give anything for the opportunity to achieve that goal. I’d happily spend my life toiling for such a worthy cause.”

This made her giggle, and the sound lightened his heart.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and his own automatically encircled her waist. He gasped as she ground herself against him, surprised and enchanted by her audaciousness. 

“H–Hermione…” His moan was cut off as she pulled him in for another exploratory kiss. When they broke apart several minutes later they were panting.

“How about my happiness now? Tonight.  Or are you full of words and hot air alone?” She smirked at him as her hand rubbed his member through his thin khaki pants. He instantly became rock hard at her touch while his traitorous hands slipped down to kneed her plump globes.

“Oh Hermione, don’t tempt me.”

“And why shouldn’t I? I want you, Severus. Please give me tonight.”

The magnitude of what she was asking for began to sink in, and he attempted to extract himself from her arms. She merely clung to him harder.

“I could not in good conscious sleep with you, Hermione, knowing you would regret it later on when I'm gone.”

“I would never regret you. Ever.” She took a deep breath, pausing in her ministrations.

“I love you, and I know in my soul that you feel the same. Not just because of your earlier declaration, but I can see it in your eyes, feel it in your touch. You came all this way, let’s make the most of it. And if we must be parted afterwards, it will give us a beautiful memory to warm our hearts when loneliness sets in. Please, Severus. Give me tonight. It would make me the happiest witch in the land.”

He laughed as he felt his resolve chip away, and he bent to capture her mouth once more. He did love her, and he wanted her so ardently he thought he might spill in his trousers just thinking about it.

A sudden thought dampened his mood considerably.

“Wait, it won’t be possible. Not with your professor lurking nearby. He would never allow it. The damn fool.”

Hermione’s face scrunched up adorably as she considered the dilemma.

“Would there be a way to make him leave?”

“Not a chance. He feels the need to protect your honor, after all. He must feel confident that I won’t try and take you against a tree here in the jungle. Otherwise he’d be standing between us.”

At the way Hermione’s face lit up he smirked and rolled his eyes.

“No, young lady. If we are going to do this, it is going to be done properly, in a bed. I want to take my time with you.”

Hermione whimpered at his words and then her face lit up with an idea.

___________________________________

They returned to the hut to find her professor in a chair reading by candlelight underneath the veranda. He rose when they approached him, face inscrutable.

Hermione bit her lip with nervousness, hoping her plan would work. It had to work, her arousal had nearly soaked through to her shorts. She was feeling positively desperate.

His eyes narrowed and flitted up and down her person, seemingly searching for anything amiss. 

“Are you ready to return to Hogwarts, Miss Granger? The hour is getting late.”

“Oh, well, I thought I’d spend the night here, sir. You said I was welcome, after all. And I find the atmosphere to be so peaceful and soothing. It would do me good, professor.”

That last part was absolutely true, so she hoped he would have no cause to be suspicious.

He blinked at her slowly, and for a moment she was sure he could sense what she was up to, but then he pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“There is the issue of only one bedroom.”

“Oh come now, professor.” Future Snape’s voice was filled with derision. “You speak as though conjuring up two smaller bedrooms would be an arduous task. I don’t recall being so slothful in the past, but I am not above admitting when I am wrong.”

“Why don’t you do us all a favor and Shut. Up.” They glared silently at one another until past Snape finally relented. He flicked his hand wordlessly, and Hermione squealed with pleasure as two mighty whirlwinds appeared on either side of the hut, howling as they swirled in tumultuous chaos. It was magnificent. When the dark clouds finally waned and dissipated, they left behind two miniature huts on either side of the main building. 

“Show off,” future Snape muttered.

Hermione was filled with admiration at seeing her professor at work, and she had trouble taking her gaze off of him. She was reminded of how understatedly powerful he was, reminded of all the reasons she had fallen for him in the first place, and a fresh pulse of desire coursed through her at the stunning display. It made her wish she had plans to sneak into his bedroom at the stroke of midnight. Beggars can’t be choosers, she reminded herself dejectedly. That was never going to happen, and she needed to stop dwelling on it.

Walking up to him, she gave him a tentative smile.

“That was amazing sir, thank you.”

He looked uncomfortable at her praise and avoided eye contact.

“Sweet dreams, professor.”

His eyes widened fractionally and locked onto hers, and they stood there unmoving as though held captive by an unseen force.

Future Snape broke the tense moment with an audible, fake yawn.

“Well then, I believe I will retire.” He walked up to Hermione and gave her a smile that warmed her down to her toes. “Spending the evening with you has been exquisite, truly. I bid you goodnight.” He took her hand and bent to kiss it. When he looked up at her, he winked before turning around to slip inside his newly created bedroom.

Hermione watched him go, her heart racing and wishing she could just follow him now.

“Miss Granger.”

Her professor’s deep, resonant voice brought her out of her reverie, and she looked over at him as he approached her.

“I hope you are cognizant of the fact I am guided by what I know is best for you, that my words and actions may seem harsh but are meant to spare you from far greater, unnecessary pain. Tell me you understand, Granger.”

She looked up at him and nodded slowly.

“I know, and I appreciate your concern, I really do. I hold you with no ill will.” She took a deep, fortifying breath. “However, my feelings for you are unchanged. I now realize you will never feel as I do, and in time, I will come to accept that painful reality. In the meantime, your other self’s presence will not change our professional dynamic, I promise you, no matter in what way I choose to interact with him.” He stiffened at her words. “I just want you to understand that I am mature and intelligent enough to decide for myself what is best for me. That is not your responsibility. Do you understand, sir?”

He bent down until their noses were almost touching.

“I caution you then, Miss Granger, to tread carefully and make wise decisions.”

There was a fire in his eyes now that made her uneasy. He looked as though he were about to burst with more he wanted to say, but in the end he merely nodded sharply and with a grand sweep of his robes, disappeared into the opposite hut. She bit her lip nervously, wondering if she should not even try and sneak out in a few hours. What would he do if he caught them together? … would he hex his past self or do something else equally drastic? He was unpredictable even in the best of times, and now she wasn’t sure if she should risk it. Did he know?

She slowly turned and entered her bedchamber for the night, filled with uncertainty on what she should do.

Chapter Text

Snape paced his temporary hut with barely restrained fury. He knew of their foolhardy plan, of course he did. He wouldn’t trust his future self with his favorite caldron let alone with someone as special as Miss Granger, so he had followed them into the forest, like some ghostly wraith. It was child’s play to hide his presence and to silence his steps … to listen and observe. He had hoped that she would be the mature one in this situation and resist his other self’s pathetic attempts at seduction, but Granger had shocked him by being the one to make overtures towards him, throwing herself into his arms.

Practically begging him to take her.

The sight had made his mouth go dry and his pants to tighten uncomfortably. When they had started to kiss and rub against one another’s bodies suggestively, it had taken every ounce of  self restraint not to charge through the underbrush, throw her over his shoulder and stalk off with her like some beastial caveman. A dark part of his brain reminded him that it wasn’t too late for that. He could still stop this foolishness before it went too far, before his future self hurt her in some irreparable way. A stab of fear shot painfully through his chest at the thought of what would happen once his future self conveniently disappeared. It would be up to him to pick up the pieces of their new and tenuous friendship, to rebuild that trust and respect between them. Would she find him worth the trouble? When she looked at him, would she only see his other self and how he had abandoned her?

He immediately stopped pacing to drag both hands down his face, pausing with his head in his hands for several moments as he allowed anger to resurface to the forefront, pushing down his anxious pain. He needed to focus.

What was she thinking? She seemed intent on throwing all of her cleverness through the floo for the sake of temporary pleasure. Was her intellect taking an extended vacation? Where was her sense of self preservation? Despite his future self’s frankly weak protestations of concern for her wellbeing before he capitulated to her charms, he was clearly out to selfishly indulge in whatever he could before flouncing back to his own time. Snape growled low under his breath, wanting to throttle the bastard and his wandering hands. It hadn’t been enough for him to fuck up his chances with Granger in the future. Oh no … he had to come back here to fuck up his friendship with her in this time as well.

The thought gave him pause, and he sat heavily on the bed. For the first time since his future self arrived, he allowed himself to consider at length what it would be like knowing he had had a chance with Granger, that she would have wanted him in return, only to realize this only after there was no longer any hope. What would it feel like to watch her marry another, to see that relationship fall apart knowing it could have been him. Even though he hadn’t even admitted to himself that he was harboring tender, budding feelings for her, he instinctively knew that losing her forever would crush him. 

A bleak emptiness surrounded his heart and mind, pressing down on him like a physical weight. It was so unbearable, he permitted himself a moment to fantasize a happier alternative. What if he could have it all, everything his heart ever dreamed of, if he were only brave enough to face his deep-seated fears of eventual rejection, to reach out for her, before it was too late? He had no doubt that if he gave his heart free reign, he would grow to love her fiercely, passionately. If given half a chance, he knew he would adore her, worship the ground she walked upon. He highly doubted he could ever make her happy, but she would be cherished. He would try to anticipate her every need and even her wishes. Nothing she could desire would be too much or out of reach. He would do everything in his power to make her life pleasant with him, easy. After everything she had gone through, the horrors of war, the sacrifices she had made, she deserved to be treated like royalty.

All at once, Snape knew he wanted to be that man or die trying. Regardless if she came to tire of him eventually, he would risk everything in order to not let this last opportunity slip past him. He didn’t want to find out how devastated he would be to live, always wondering … what if?

He stood up abruptly, a fresh wave of determination flowing over him. It wasn’t too late. Not yet, despite his past self’s sabotaging behavior. He would court her, woo her, take his time proving himself worthy of her, if such a thing was possible. He would be respectful and cautious, giving her plenty of opportunities to see who he was, warts and all. She would not be lured into something by some flash in the pan seduction or a one night stand.

To do this he needed to keep his future self far, far away from Miss Granger. He rubbed his chin as his face scrunched up in thought before his eyes widened with an idea. A slow, devilish grin spread across his face.

He knew exactly what he needed to do.

__________________________________

Hermione was an excited bundle of nerves as she dried her flushed skin from the luxurious bath she had given herself. It hadn’t taken her long to come to the decision that she would absolutely accept any risks involved with getting caught by her professor for a chance for a night with Severus, even if it would be the one and only night she would ever have with him. Which, she told herself, was all the more reason to just go for it. She had been pining for him for a couple years now, and nothing would stop her from making the most of this glorious opportunity.

Taking advantage of the lavish bathroom and its huge clawfoot bathtub, she had languished in the scented oils, slowly cleansing both her body and mind from the day's whirlwind events. She had been sorely tempted to touch herself, to bring herself over the exasperating edge she’d been teetering on all day, but she reluctantly decided to abstain. It wasn’t easy, as every time her body had been close to either of them, it was like a fire lit up in her belly and slowly, tortuously spread outward throughout her entire body. Oh gods she needed release.

A sudden, lewd image popped into her mind of herself naked and wedged between the both of them simultaneously … her body writhing helplessly against the onslaught of four strong hands, multiple dexterous, elegant fingers, two sharp mouths…

She gasped, almost coming from the titillating thoughts alone. No, no no no! She had to stop that train of thought right now. It was pointless and never going to happen, and she didn’t want that anyway … did she? She felt confused as to where the idea had even come from. She’d never had a threesome before or even seriously contemplated it. She was not what she would call … adventurous … having only ever slept with two people in her life. Neither experiences were anything special, and she never pursued anything serious with either person. The first time had been out of curiosity, the second, as a distraction and stress relief during the height of the war.

She hadn’t been with anyone for over a year … until of course Severus had brought her to a spectacular orgasm with just his fingers earlier today. And fuck, that experience alone far surpassed anything she had ever done with anyone else. It was like her body responded to him like a lightning rod after being struck. He had awakened something inside of her, something ravenous, and now her body was in mutiny, demanding more. She again had to consciously stop her fingers as they started to trail down her stomach towards her now drenched curls. 

“For fucks sake, be patient, Hermione.” She felt ridiculous talking to herself, but she really needed to hear it. She took a deep breath, reminding herself she wouldn’t have to wait long now. In less than an hour, she would sneak over to the hut Severus had gone into, and what she anticipated would be the greatest night of her life, would begin. But first, she needed to decide on something sultry and revealing to wear …

_______________________________

Severus felt as though time had stopped. The last several times he had checked the time, barely a minute had gone by. He was tempted to just say fuck the plan and promptly march himself over to the main suite where Hermione was staying and ravish her on sight. He had been rock hard for a solid hour now, and it was becoming quite uncomfortable. He had tried to get his mind off of it, but then he would hear a noise and excitedly turn to the door like a damned dog waiting for its mistress to arrive. Which, he supposed, was not too far from reality. She was everything to him, the very reason he had risked it all and traveled back in time. He was practically salivating at the thought of finally having her beneath him, of exploring every inch of her skin and making her his.

He had long thought he would never be able to know what her mouth tasted like, never be able to hold her in his arms let alone make love to her. It was like a dream come true, and the waiting made him anxious that something … i.e. his past self … would somehow stop it from happening. He would murder his counterpart if he interfered in any way. The fucking prick had chosen to keep her at a distance even after the dire warnings he had risked everything to give him. Well, there would be hell to pay if he ruined this chance for him as well.

He strode over to the alcohol cabinet, begrudgingly impressed with the elaborateness his future self had managed to conjure in such a short amount of time. The small hut was easily as elegantly furnished and impressive as the large one, only on a smaller scale. He poured himself a couple fingers of fire whisky and downed it in one gulp. Some liquid courage would not go amiss with the way his nerves were on fire.

He had always considered himself cursed, with nothing but pain and suffering to look forward to. Until now, surviving the war had been the single biggest shock of his life.

That was now easily surpassed by Hermoine’s desire for him. Nothing could be more mind boggling, more unlikely. She was a vision, a beautiful angel of light and he a lowly wizard of darkness. Just the sight of Hermione caused him to feel weak in the knees and his heart to pound furiously. Yet, she wanted him, desired to be with him. He felt simultaneously the luckiest man alive and an inmate damned to a lifelong prison of heartache. He would savor this night, offer praise to Merlin and the gods for this blessing, and then return home, a broken shell once more.

His mind then wandered to what would happen to him when he arrived back to his own time. Would he notice differences caused by his time travel? Would Hermione remember his visit to the past? Or worse, would changing the future cause him to cease to exist? He supposed there was some bleak comfort in that. If he merely evaporated into the night, he would not have to live with this pain indefinitely. If only he could have made a difference with this fiasco of a trip, he then could have had everything he ever hoped for. 

He sighed tiredly, once more saddened that this visit would be in vain. He blinked as a dizzy spell washed over him. That was odd. He shook it off and checked his appearance in the mirror. He had taken a shower earlier, and his hair was almost dry. It always looked a bit greasy, but just after a shower it was more on the side of silky. He glanced up at the clock to see it was now a quarter to midnight. Soon, Hermione would be joining him, and the thought made him smile.

He stumbled over to the bed as the room began to spin around him. What … what was going on? His mind was now foggy, and a powerful drowsiness came over him. Despite his increasing alarm and confusion, he found himself lying back on the bed, closing his eyes.

A few moments later,  the only sound in the room were his soft snores as he fell into a deep sleep.

___________________________________________________

Hermione was ready. Her hair hung down her back in soft curls, her face glowed with a splash of makeup, and she even thought to dab her favorite perfume behind her ears. She wore a long, silk robe, which artfully hid the lacy, completely transparent lingerie she had conjured up to wear. It was little more than being completely nude underneath, but she wanted to tantalize him a bit before – she assumed – he would tear it right off of her.

She startled as there was a soft knock on the door. That was unexpected. Their plan had been for her to slip over to Severus’s quarters in order to be less conspicuous. Perhaps he had changed his mind on the location or thought she wasn’t coming?

She ran over to the door and threw it open, a joyous smile spreading across her face at the somber, beautiful sight of him. He was still wearing that low cut, white polo with the loose khaki pants, and she couldn’t wait to slip it off of him and bite that pale, enticing skin.

“Miss Granger.”

Her eyebrow rose questioningly before deciding to play along.

“Professor.” The word came out low and breathy as she stared seductively up at him through her eyelashes.

To her delight, his eyes widened fractionally and he cleared his throat. She hadn’t even dropped her gown yet and the effect she was already having on him was striking. She quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him in, furtively glancing around to make sure her actual professor was nowhere in sight before closing – and locking – the door. 

She leaned back against it and let her eyes roam over him hungrily and without shame. It was so liberating to not have to hide her fierce attraction to him, to just indulge herself and know he wanted her and cared for her with equal intensity. She fully realized she was responding to him like a feline in heat, but she embraced it.

Reveled in it.

She bit her lip and finally met his eyes, curious as to why he seemed so nervous and reticent … so different to how he had been in the forest when she last was in his arms. It had been obvious he had wanted to fuck her right then and there. Well, now, there was nothing stopping him from doing just that.

“Miss Granger.” He repeated, and his voice broke, making her smile warmly at him. She wasn’t sure where this sudden onset of shy awkwardness was coming from, but she found it so endearing. Precious, even, which was not a word she ever thought she would associate with Severus Snape. She was tempted to tease him, make him blush deeper than that hint of rose that was spreading fetchingly along his sharp cheekbones. For now at least, she would be gentle with him.

“Yes, Severus?”

She approached him slowly, keeping her robe wrapped loosely around her body so as not to overwhelm him. His hand twitched and he took a deep breath before clearing his throat once more.

“I regret to inform you that, although we had previously agreed to this … this rendezvous … I must now —ah – d-decline.”

She had begun to skim her fingers up his arms when the full import of his words hit her. She blinked and looked up at him.

“What?”

“It’s for the best, Miss Granger. It was wrong of me to want to take advantage of you as I am leaving soon–”

She huffed and rose up on her tiptoes, placing a gentle kiss on his mouth. He immediately went silent, and she gazed at him with affectionate amusement at his astonished expression. His lips parted as though he wanted to continue but no words came out.

“We’ve been over this already, Severus. I want this. You, want this. You aren’t taking advantage, I promise. And please, stop calling me Miss Granger. You aren’t my professor, not anymore in your time … and I sure as hell don’t want you to look at me as your student, not tonight.”

With that, she took a step back without breaking eye contact and dropped her robe.

_________________________________

Snape was panicking, a novel feeling for him. He had thought this would be easy. All he had to do was impersonate his future self and let her down, impolitely if necessary, and once and for all put an end to his other self’s interference. The reality of it was much more complicated. He feared nothing and no one, except her apparently. It was like he had forgotten how to breathe as he found himself retreating backwards until the back of his legs hit that monstrosity of a bed. He plopped down indecorously and squeezed his eyes shut as images flashed through his mind of the erotic dreams he had had of her on this very bed. Seeing her now made him quickly realize that the girl from his dreams had been merely a shadow of her actual self.

Miss Granger was magnificent to behold. He feared he would combust if he looked at her a moment longer, but his traitorous eyes were drawn back to her delectable curves like moths to a flame. There was so much lovely skin, decorated with sheer, black lace that only just veiled her nipples and the apex of her thighs. If anything they highlighted them, causing his wide eyed gaze to be drawn to those enticing areas he couldn’t quite see.

He was undone and completely at her mercy.

He should have realized the moment she answered the door that this plan was doomed to fail. She was too bewitching, too exquisite, even when she wasn’t using all of her womanly powers to try and enhance her beauty … for him.

Correction, for his other self.

The reminder helped bring a bit of clarity to his mind, lifting the aroused haze that had settled over his body. He needed to act fast before he gave in and forever ruined her trust. He was here for a purpose, and he needed to be resilient enough to carry it out. Looking up at her, he forced his eyes to remain on hers and not her luscious body as she now stood before him. Oh gods, the way she was staring down at him, like she could eat him whole, made his cock pulse.

“Miss Granger.” 

His voice came out hoarse, as though long unused. She just shook her head as one would to an errant child and slid her hand through his hair, the other tickling the exposed skin of his throat.

“Please, call me Hermione.”

“Hermione.” 

Her given name fell from his lips without his permission, his mind and body ready to comply with whatever she wished of him.

She smiled, and as his lips still tingled from the sweet kiss she had earlier bestowed on him, his first ever, his traitorous eyes darted down to them. She must have noticed because she leaned down and placed her soft lips on his once more, and he trembled at the touch. She smelled so good and was so, so soft and ohhhh. Her tongue swiped his bottom lip and he gasped at the sensation. She merely giggled and did it again and he had to fight back a groan. Was this a game to her? Nothing about this was amusing as he felt as though he were teetering on the brink of destruction.

“We can’t, Miss Granger.”

She merely perched on his lap, settling herself comfortable as though on her favorite chair and draped her arms loosely around his neck. He stopped breathing completely as her body brushed against his now aching erection. Fuck.

“Your argument is becoming tiresome, professor.” She brushed kisses on his temple, the corner of his mouth, his nose, and cheekbones as she spoke. When she started raking her nails through his hair, massaging the back of his head a moan escaped his lips. 

When she began to rock herself against his hips, his hands shot out to grab her waist and still her movement. They were both breathing harshly now, their mouths mere centimeters apart.

“Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me to stop, and I’ll leave. You won’t have to see me again while you remain in this time. But, for the love of Merlin and all things holy, stop holding back on my account. Where’s the fire I saw in your eyes earlier in the woods?” She leant in closer to whisper seductively in his ear. “I can feel your desire even now, Severus. Can’t you just let yourself go for one night?”

He had never wanted to say yes to something more fervently in his whole life. But he couldn’t. She thought him his other self. It was deceitful, it was wrong, and completely in opposition to his whole purpose in being there in the first place. He couldn’t let his dick decide this for him, not when it would risk everything.

“No.”

__________________________________

That simple word pierced through her like an arrow, hitting her so swift and deep that it left her breathless. She gasped and awkwardly scurried off his lap, immediately turning away to hide the tears that threatened to spill over. She was embarrassed at how deeply this rejection hurt. She had thought they both wanted this, that future Severus loved her. No, she knew he did. But now, out of some untimely onset of misplaced fucking honor, he no longer wanted to take advantage of her. It was utter bollocks. Dragon shite!

She could hear him walking up behind her, and she closed her eyes tightly, trying valiantly to pull herself together. Was she disappointed? Yes, beyond words. Would she shame herself further by falling apart in front of him because he refused to sleep with her? Like hell.

“I know this is not what you want to hear just now, but he didn’t – I didn’t come back in time to have sex with you. I came here to warn you of the future, to … to try and bring you and … your professor … closer together. He is the one who will be here beyond these three days, not me.”

At this she bitterly laughed and spun to face him. She glared up at him, and even though he was blurry from all her tears, she could tell he was taken aback by her barely concealed anger.

“I suppose I should thank you? For going to such great lengths on my behalf.” Sarcasm dripped from her words.

“That … that is not necessary.” He spoke hesitantly, most likely knowing full well she was not sincere.

“Well, you’ve done what you came to do, now just leave.”

The startled look he gave her would have been hilarious if she were not so hurt, so bloody infuriated. Her patience had completely evaporated and she was fed up with the both of them. She had the love of one, the obvious desire of the other, yet neither of them would touch her or let their guard down enough to risk … who the hell even knew. Even though she literally had two of the man she loved here in this exotic, secluded place, she would leave empty handed and alone. The irony was not lost on her, but she would lick her wounds later. 

Even as her hopes for having this one night to forever cherish in her heart evaporated, she fortified herself against the suffocating disappointment. Despite what he thought, she was strong enough to walk away from this unscathed.

Almost.

“I want to go home.” Her voice was now a whisper.

“Miss Granger, please understand I am trying to protect you, to keep you from being hurt.”

“I guess you’ve failed on multiple counts then.” She turned to glower at him and saw her words had hit their mark by the pain in his eyes. She pushed down a stab of guilt.

“Tonight would have been our one and only chance to be together. I would have carried the memory with me long after you left for your own time.” She huffed. “Don’t you get it? My professor will never look at me the way you have, well, until tonight. Like I’m something … precious. You coming here, I think you’ve done more damage than good. You’ve dangled something in front of me I can never have, don’t you see that? It’s cruel.”

She started to cry harder, despite telling herself to wait until she was alone. She hugged herself, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. Her next words came out pathetic and wet.

“I wish … I wish you hadn’t come at all! It was stupid and reckless. And as it turns out, utterly pointless.”

“Goddamn it Hermione! It wasn’t pointless!”

She felt his strong arms wrap around her and she let herself sob into his shoulder. He was speaking softly to her now, but it was difficult to focus on the words, such was her heartbreak.

“I — I know he may not show it, but your professor is growing to … to care for you. This was the push he needed, you must believe me. It was not in vain.”

She snorted in derision and tried to push him away, but his hold merely tightened around her.

“You are so utterly wrong it’s ridiculous! I have half a mind to go ahead and marry Ron because I can’t imagine it being worse than this.”

With that she shoved him forcefully and turned to flee the room, flee this romantic, beautiful place which seemed to merely taunt her. She barely managed to get the door open before it immediately slammed shut again, the lock sliding firmly back into place.

She whirled on him, ready to tear him a new one for being a pigheaded piece of shitte when he unexpectedly gathered her against his chest, bent down and kissed her, really kissed her.

She froze in shock before melting into his arms. This kiss was different from the one in the woods. It was passionate but clumsy, all teeth and tongue, but somehow … even more perfect than last time. She moaned wantonly into his mouth, grabbing handfuls of his hair and pulling, trying to mold herself into his body. They stood there like that, exploring each other’s mouths while he practically vibrated beneath her touch.

Eventually he pulled away, black soulful eyes staring deep into hers.

“Miss Granger–”

She immediately glared at him and he began again.

“… Hermione. It’s – it’s me. Your professor." His shoulders sagged with the admission. "I apologize for the deception.”

She blinked back at him, at first uncomprehending. Then it hit her and she felt her world tilt a bit on its axis.

“What?”

“That’s how I know it wasn’t in vain. His coming here, as bloody annoying as that has been, was the proverbial hot poker on my obstinate arse that I needed.”

She pulled away and he let her go. She ran to put on her robe, the horror of displaying herself so wantonly in front of her professor – who had previously made it abundantly clear that he wanted to remain strictly professional with her – was only just sinking in.

“But why?! Why would you do this to me?”

“I’m a selfish man, Hermione. I couldn’t stand the thought of him bedding you, even as I was in denial that I wanted anything more than an academic friendship with you.”

“So … you were jealous of yourself? Do you have any idea how absurd that is?”

A hint of a smile passed his lips.

“I do. And I’m not proud of it. It was wrong of me to deceive you in this way, and I am sorry, truly sorry, Hermione. Not that I interfered, just to be clear. On that count I have no regrets. But…” Here he paused and took a deep breath. “I should have just had the nerve to be honest with you.”

“Wait, where is Severus?”

Snape then avoided her eyes and looked uncomfortable.

“He’s … having a lie in.”

Hermonie put her hands on her hips and looked up at him sternly. “What did you do to him?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s merely a sleeping drought. He will survive, I assure you.” He smirked. “Though I imagine he will be thoroughly cross with me when he wakes. Forgive me, but I can’t bring myself to care.” He grew sober and took her hands in both of his. The intimate gesture astonished Hermione into silence.

“I have to tell you, I was not completely honest with you earlier.”

She remained mute as his thumbs rubbed the back of her hands in a distracting way that sent shivers of pleasure straight to her core.

“As you know, I desire you. I’ve admitted to having erotic dreams and to finding you attractive. But when I said I could only offer you a meaningless one night stand, that I couldn’t offer you anything more, that was a lie. I do have feelings for you. They have been developing over the last few months. I’ve tried to ignore them, to push them aside, but I cannot hide them any longer. You deserve to know the truth, even if you eventually grow tired of me and we go our separate ways. The truth is, Hermione, I’m a coward. I almost lost you because I was too afraid to try and have you. I can’t imagine you would be very happy with me, but I have finally realized that I want to find out, to hell with my insecurities.”

They stared at each other for long moments as Hermione’s mind furiously tried to wrap around the full extent of what he was saying.

“Professor … do you mean to say … are you asking–”

“Yes. Inarticulately, I fear. What I’m trying to say is, I want to court you. To allow you the chance to get to know me and make an informed decision as to if you want to have me. Don’t you see why I couldn’t have stood by while my future self had his way with you? The disgusting cad. He already ruined his own chance with you, and it’ll be over my dead body that he does the same with my chance, however small it is.”

Hermione bit her lip and stifled a smile. His eyes narrowed suspiciously down at her.

“Sorry it’s just … it wouldn’t have ruined anything, professor. As you said before, he is you. It would merely have given me a preview of what was to come later on, with us.”

Snape grumbled under his breath.

“I don’t trust him, and neither should you.”

“Can I trust you?”

He paused. “I … suppose after my actions tonight, no. I certainly wouldn't. But my feelings for you are genuine. You can trust in that.”

Hermione slid her arms around him, slipping her hands beneath his shirt to skim across his warm skin. His breath hitched and she smiled.

“Severus … can I call you that?”

He nodded quickly, blinking.

“Severus, he loves me. Those budding feelings you are talking about? He’s had two years for them to grow into something deeper. That’s why I wanted to spend the night with him, because I didn’t think I would ever see that reflected in your eyes. I thought tonight was my only chance. Please go easy on your other self, he’s been through a lot. And whatever shenanigans he meant to get up to while here, it came from a place of love. So, with all my heart, I know I can trust him. And you should also.”

He frowned down at her until she captured his mouth with hers, thoroughly removing it from his face.  

_______________________________________

Severus felt Hermione’s tongue slide hot and wet into his mouth, and his knees almost buckled. In all his years he had never considered how intimate, how insanely erotic kissing would be. But this, this was like suddenly discovering a whole new alternate dimension to life. Her tongue seemed to tease his own, encouraging it to dance and play. He quickly obliged, of course he did, and an embarrassing noise escaped his lips. He felt her smile against his mouth and she nipped at his top lip before angling her face to go impossibly deeper. She was incredible and delicious, and he found himself wanting to spend the rest of his days simply plunging the depths of her mouth endlessly. 

“Severus.”

He groaned when she pulled back, not wanting to stop. She was pulling at his shirt, and she had it half off his body before he comprehended where this was heading.

“Hermione.”

“Shirt. Off.”

Her tone left no argument, so he obliged, raising his arms so she could tug it over his head. She threw it aside, her expression as she took in his naked torso not unlike a kid in a candy store. He was amazed at her attraction towards him, that she found him worth kissing, touching. He shivered as her delicate hands drifted over his chest, exploring, tracing his scars and leaving goosebumps in their wake. She looked just as focused and determined as she always had in his classroom when she was working on a particularly difficult potion. He couldn’t help but smile fondly down at her at the memory it brought, that is until she leaned forward and gave his right nipple a kitten lick. His jaw dropped, face immediately looking pained as the sensation was almost overwhelming. Oh gods, he wouldn’t last long at this rate.

She lifted her angelic face to his in question.

“Is this okay?”

He huffed out a laugh, lifting his hand to tentatively brush a curl behind her ear.

“I – I have no words for what you are doing to me, Hermione, but if I did, okay would not be one of them.”

She beamed up at him at his round about praise.

“Ah, and what would be a word to describe it?”

Without waiting for a reply, she flicked both of his nipples simultaneously.

“Oh, fuck.” His composure was fast abandoning him, and he had never seen her look so smug … like the cat that got the cream.

“Interesting word choice. Foreshadowing, perhaps?” She then latched her mouth to his left nipple while rolling his other between her fingers, the pleasure jolting straight to his cock, causing his hips to jerk forward automatically, demanding some friction.

“Gods you’re so sensitive.”

She left a wet trail of open mouth kisses leading up to his neck where she lavished her attention there for several minutes. She seemed to want to suck and lick every inch of his skin, paying special attention to the scar tissue from his final battle. Her fingers were trailing down his stomach dangerously low, now dipping into his pants and playing with the patch of hair above his groin.

His body was on fire, and it was taking every ounce of willpower not to rip off that ridiculous lacey contraption she had on and throw her onto the bed. Hang taking it slow, the id part of his brain roared to be let loose, to take control.

The only thing holding him back was his worry that he would come on too strong or hurt her accidentally. He felt unsure of what would be welcomed, acceptable. He had never done anything remotely like this before, and though he was pretty sure he would be a fast learner, he didn’t want his ignorant fumblings to turn her off.

Should he warn her that he had no idea how to properly proceed … or question if they even should? He had been so adamant that he wouldn’t rush things with her, that he would woo her and take his time proving the sincerity and depth of his intentions for her, but now he seemed to have lost all of his restraint.

“Severus, what’s wrong?”

He blinked down to find that she had stilled all movement and was looking at him with a face filled with concern.

Shite.

He took a shaky breath.

“Nothing, I just …” His voice trailed off.

“What is it? You can tell me.” She caressed his cheek with so much affection his heart squeezed.

“I just thought you should know that I have not done this before. With anyone. I also thought … we should take things … slow?”

He didn’t mean to make it sound like a question, but his body was distracting him, protesting rather loudly that it very much did not want to take anything slow. 

Her eyes were wide and glossy, looking at him with awe.

“I’m so glad you told me, Severus. We can go as slow as you like. She stepped back from him and he immediately inwardly cursed his fucking mouth.

“Do you … want to wait? To have sex, I mean.”

“I want to give you time to decide if this is what you want. I don’t want to rush you into anything … physical … between us.”

“This is what I want, Severus. With all my heart, body and soul. I just need to know what you want, not what you think is best for me.”

He closed his eyes for a moment before meeting hers once more. His voice, when he answered her, came out low and rough.

“I want to have you now. On that bed. Repeatedly, if I’m being honest.”

A soft moan slipped through her lips, and it felt like a physical touch.

“Well, then.”

She took his hand and led him over to the bed.

She turned to him and gave him a soft smile.

“You are a powerful, brilliant wizard, Severus. I know you are used to being in charge of most situations, but do you trust me to take control this first time? I promise I’ll take good care of you. I imagine, once you get the hang of it,  you will more often dominate in the bedroom as you typically do in the classroom, but I would be honored to be your tour guide through all pleasures of the flesh tonight.”

She raised her eyebrow imperiously at him before they both broke out into huge grins. He felt some of his nerves lessen as he shook his head in disbelief at what they were about to do.

“You, Miss Granger, are utterly absurd. But yes, I trust you and give you leave to have your way with me.” He smirked as she rolled her eyes.

“Good. Now, take off your pants and get on that bed.

His smile dropped and his eyes widened. Bloody fucking hell, he may not survive the night.

But what a way to go.

Chapter Text

If anyone had told Hermione, even a day ago, that she would soon have the unsurpassable pleasure of deflowering Severus Snape, of being the first honored witch – or wizard – to have him at their mercy, to touch him intimately, she would have laughed them through the great hall doors and down the long winding lane of Hogwarts until their ridiculous face was hidden from sight. She was never one to entertain fanciful thoughts of fantastical situations that would never happen in real life … but here she was, looking down at a very naked Severus sprawled out in the middle of a bed so unbelievably spacious that it made even his tall, muscular frame look miniature. Not an easy feat. His chest had the beginnings of a sheen of sweat, so lickable, and his sizeable, mouth-watering cock stood proudly, if slightly leaning to the side. As it hovered above his stomach, a drop of precome slowly made its way down his shaft.

She licked her lips. Oh gods, she was going to enjoy this. Her eyes slowly meandered their way up his exquisite body, drinking in each incredible inch of skin on his slightly spread thighs, his torso, his long elegant neck. She supposed her weighty gaze was having an affect on him, as his body seemed to thrum with barely restrained power and anticipation.

She smirked until she met his eyes and then immediately froze, her own widening. He was perched up on his elbows now, peering down the length of his body with a heated gaze that penetrated down to her soul, such was its breathtaking intensity. Merlin’s beard, she had never seen such raw hunger from anyone before in her life. He was looking at her with the single minded focus of a bloodhound on the scent of a rabbit. Her heart skipped a beat, and then another, as she felt herself liquifying under the spell of those dark, fathomless eyes. It was as though she were bewitched.

A low rumble sounded and she blinked, the spell seemingly broken. It took her a moment to realize he was actually growling at her … growling.

“While I am flattered that you find my body so fascinating, have a care, Miss Granger. I am not a patient man.”

Shite.

Gone was the tentative man from a moment before who feared going too fast with her. This creature before her had a barely constrained animalistic air about him. He was fierce. Demanding. She had no misconceptions on how weak she was in the face of his unbridled lust, that he could easily command her with a look alone, with one utterance of that deep, hypnotic voice. It was obvious that now that he had decided he would lay down his scruples and claim her, a dam had burst within him. He would not be holding back now. Her insides fluttered at the realization that he was going to let himself go, that even as she took his virginity, he would also be ravaging her in the most delicious way.

She methodically inhaled and exhaled to calm herself down. Even though every pore in her being wanted to give in to the natural authority that oozed out of him effortlessly, she would resist. For now at least. She would not relinquish her control so easily, and if he thought he could rush her when she was just getting started, he would be in for a big surprise.

“I am well acquainted with your impatience, sir, but we are not in the classroom, are we?” A seductive smile spread across her face as she crawled onto the bed and moved slowly up his body. “No, this is not a lesson you have ever been given, so it falls to me to teach it to you. She let the tips of her fingers flutter lightly up the sides of his legs, making small circles on his outer thighs, tickling the sparse hair there. This caused his breath to hitch and his body to shudder. He was so warm to the touch, and she couldn’t help but lean down and follow with her mouth, leaving a slow, damp trail of kisses up the side of his thighs. She then peppered kisses low across his stomach and even dipped her tongue into his navel. This caused his whole body to shiver in response.

She glanced up at him and smiled at his awe filled expression. “I expect your full and unwavering attention, Severus. Misbehavior of any sort will not be tolerated.”

She paused when she reached his groin, her face hovering over it in wonder. She caught his eyes as she slowly lowered herself, ignoring his straining cock to give slow kisses along both sides of his hips as their eyes remained locked together. This was met with a drawn out groan, but when he bucked his hips, she immediately stopped, giving him a stern look. His control finally broke.

“Oh for fucks sake, witch! Do you mean to torture me?”

She calmly raised an eyebrow at his outburst, secretly pleased he was coming undone so easily when she had barely begun to touch him.

“Of course not. I mean to give you all your heart desires and more. But we will take it slowly … just as you requested.”

“To hell with what I said. Come. Here.”

She shivered at the command and obeyed despite herself, though not before giving a kitten lick to the tip of his weeping cock. This caused him to freeze with his mouth open in a rictus of a scream. She smirked and crawled up his body until she was straddling his hips. She then bent down carefully to gently kiss his open, pouting lips until they went slack and pliable beneath her. He groaned and she deepened the kiss, dipping her tongue inside his mouth and exploring his hot cavern until he broke from her, heaving for air.

They stared at one another, a hair's breadth apart and sharing the hot, humid air between them. Hermione studied the contours of his face, the faint darkness surrounding his eyes, the prominence of his nose and sharpness of his cheeks. His angular face was far from symmetrical and certainly not what one would call traditionally handsome, but she had grown to appreciate and adore it above all others. His was the only face she wanted to wake up to and the last one she wanted to see before bed. She nuzzled his nose with hers affectionately as she allowed her body to settle carefully on top of his, putting her full weight on him.

He made a pained sound and she glanced up at him and found he was now looking at her with unreserved astonishment, as though she were the most fascinating potion he had ever concocted or an intricate spell hitherto unknown to him. She bit back a smile and tentatively wiggled her body against his, feeling his hardness rub against the soft curve of her arse. He immediately closed his eyes firmly and hissed. It was then she noticed he was gripping the bed sheets so tightly they were most likely ripped to shreds, so unconscious he was of the strength in even his pinky.

She sat up and let her hands rest on his chest, his pulsing cock nestling between her spread cheeks as though it belonged there. The sensation was heady and erotic, and she let out a low moan as she squirmed against him. He was making little unconscious grunts and whimpers, still clawing at the sheets as though hanging on for dear life. It was also clear that he was valiantly trying to keep his body in check, to not spend too quickly. She bent down to capture his mouth once more in a wet, messy kiss that also hid her devious smile. Gods, it would be so satisfying to grind against his erection and milk him until he could do nothing but ejaculate against her backside as her pussy gushed all over his stomach. What unguarded expressions would flit across his face as she undulated against him until the angels sang?

Oh fuck, that would be glorious, but alas, right now she had other plans. She drew lazy circles around his nipples with her fingernails, admiring the goosebumps that rose and the ripple of his abdominal muscles. She slid her hands up and over his broad shoulders, squeezing and lightly scraping as she went. She trailed them down his arms until she was holding both of his hands, pulling them away from where they clenched at the bedding.

He was being uncharacteristically quiet and docile now, apart from his heavy breathing and heaving chest, no doubt overwhelmed by the intimate closeness of their bodies, a novel experience for him.

“Severus.” Her voice was taffeta and honey. He didn’t answer and it took her bending down and playfully nipping at his nose to get his attention away from what her sensual touches were doing to his body.

“Severus…. You can touch me. In fact, I very much want you to.” His eyes widened as she gently guided his hands to her scantily clad body, her robe wide open and fanning out around the two of them. His calloused fingers felt so good against her skin. They were so large, they could almost touch each other around her waist. She closed her eyes at the warmth that permeated her skin, and held her breath hoping he would touch her all over. At first he merely held her lightly, not moving his hands at all, but after several suspended seconds, she could feel his fingers twitch against her, pressing down lightly at the tips to graze against her heated skin. She moaned softly at the sensation and dropped her own hands back to his nipples to pinch and rub them until she felt his hands migrate upwards, towards her own breasts. 

“Yes.” She whispered without thought as she ground down against his cock. “Touch me. Please, Severus. I’m yours, all yours.”

______________________________________

Wit abandoning him, he was incapable of producing words. His tongue had become a useless appendage as all he could manage was to stare up at her mutely with wide eyed wonder. She was now straddling his waist, creamy legs spread wide on either side of him to encompass his torso. Hermione was a vision, and it was all Severus could do to remember to breathe. His sharp sense of smell picked up on her arousal, and his eyes would not stop darting down to her sex, her slit artfully hidden by that damnable laced thong. His nostrils flared as he breathed in her musky scent, and it made his mouth water. Gods, he wanted to taste her, to explore her hidden depths.

His hands were now on her sides, miraculously placed there by her. He trembled at the feel of her warmth and lightly freckled skin. This was all so overwhelming and hard to fathom, even as she squirmed in obvious arousal against his body. He thought he had come to terms with the fact that she desired him, but her body put on erotic display above him brought about a fresh epiphany that finally reached down to his soul. She wanted him to touch her. And gods have mercy, he yearned to do just that with every atom of his being.

His fingers moved lightly, hesitantly, as each new inch of skin they stroked caused his heart to race and body to quiver. Amazingly, she seemed to melt at his amateur expedition of her flesh, her mouth dropping open as she closed her eyes, head thrown back. Her own fingers toyed with his nipples which was incredibly distracting but not enough to dissuade him from his purpose. He pulled her slightly forward so he could reach more of her, and she obliged, sliding her pert little arse up higher on his stomach. He felt a damp trail on his skin and groaned, wanting to claim her there, make her scream his name.

In due time, he told himself.

He slid his hands around and up her spine, which caused her to arch with a gasp. He smiled with realization of how sensitive and ticklish she was there. Good to know. He held his breath as he hooked his fingers on the straps of her lingerie and pulled it down her arms. Slowly, torturously so, her breasts were revealed to him in their full and curvy glory. They were mouth wateringly beautiful, perfect. A vision of heaven. Her rosy nipples hardened for him, and with one hand splayed across her back and the other moving around to cup her goosebump covered flesh, he pulled her down so he could bury his head between her warm globes, inhaling her scent. She was panting now, and he smirked. Perhaps going slow was for the best after all. 

He placed a kiss there on her sternum, then several more as he moved his head to the left. His tongue darted out to taste the underside of her breast and she jerked in surprise, She then positioned her left breast in such a way that her nipple brushed against his mouth. 

Oh Circe, it was as though she were offering herself to him on some unholy altar. He felt so unworthy of her sacrifice of flesh, but he would be damned before he denied himself. Not anymore. He would take all he could and beg for more. He wanted her, every part of her body and soul, and he would have her as long as she was willing. She may regret it one day, but today was not that day. He would indulge himself without reservation.

Teasing her, he let his lips brush against her hardened peak over and over until she was whimpering, pleading for him to suck her like a newborn. As her fingers clawed at his shoulders, he finally relented. He licked her first, humming at the salty flavor of her skin. The erect, ridged texture of her puckered nipple lighted up his senses, and his tongue laved and flicked with an urgency he had yet unknown. She was delectable and he couldn’t get enough. He moved to the other nipple and did the same, his breath coming harshly until he finally latched onto her firmly,  his mouth engulfing as much of her teat as he could. He pulled her body solidly against his face as he lost himself in the delights of her breasts. Growling against her sensitive skin, he suckled as though his life depended on it. Wet sounds filled the air as he fed on her while his hands wandered down to her buttocks with increasing boldness, tearing her lingerie as he kneaded and squeezed her globes between his hands. She was leaking all over him now, and he groaned deep in his chest at the myriad of new sensations he was trying to catalog and log away for future reference.

His fingers dipped and explored down the hidden seam of her ass cheeks, and when he rubbed against her tight sphincter, she gasped and gripped his hair until he saw stars.

“S-severus. Please …ahh!”

He merely grunted in response as his other hand moved to her pussy that was smearing its juice all over him and played with her wet curls while he continued to attack her breasts. Gods he was no better than an animal, but the realization was not enough to hold him back, to stop him from plundering her body. He was addicted now to the flavor of her skin. Her cloying scent was like an ambrosiac, and he was drunk on it.

She then gripped his hair, hard, pulling him off her breast and forcing his eyes on hers. He couldn’t help but smirk at how wild her hair was, springing out in all directions and so very sexy. She was rocking her hips against his cock sensually as he kneaded her arse, all the while gazing heatedly into one another’s eyes.

“Hermione.” His voice was wrecked already. “You … you can have no idea … w-what you are doing to me. Shite.”

She leaned forward and bit his bottom lip aggressively before she licked it as though to sooth the pain she had just caused.

“I have a rather … large … idea, Severus.” As she spoke she reached back and lightly stroked his cock, touching it with her slender, delicate hand for the first time. An embarrassingly loud whine escaped his lips before he could stop himself. Fuuuuck she was good at this. Too good in fact, and he would have to use every ounce of self restraint in his power not to explode prematurely from her wicked hand.

He leaned forward to latch onto her neck which was currently shining with sweat and simply irresistible, when she pushed him back down, hand splayed against his chest. She looked fierce suddenly, in full control, and the heady sight stole his breath. What a fucking incredible woman.

Without breaking eye contact, she guided his member to her molten entrance and was moving it back and forth, drenching his cock in her cream. He fixed his eyes shut, using powers similar to occlumency to calm his mind and body, to allow himself to experience the abundant pleasures now coursing violently through him without coming undone too soon.

Even during the war his inner strength had never been tested so thoroughly. He was a master in occlumency. Keeping a steady and unrelenting shield between himself and the world was normally as easy as breathing for him, but said wall was now crumbling around him as his body would not stop trembling nor would whimpers cease escaping from his mouth. The dark lord had never been able to force anything from him that he had not wanted to give, but with a touch from Hermione, his heart and soul was bleeding into the room like a wizard still green behind the ears. 

She was purposefully trying to drive him insane, she must be, as she was now slowly sinking down on his shaft. He let go of her to latch onto the sheets in a death grip and throw his head back with a wail of pleasure. Oh… oh hell she was so tight. So bloody hot. How was he not hurting her? The silky pulsing of her inner walls were gripping him like a vice, milking his cock with ruthless efficiency. He would not last long.

“Oh, oh Severus. Ah-ahh, you feel so good, so big.” She paused to let out a low moan as she finally seated herself fully on top of him.

“T-touch me, please. I want to feel you all over me.”

She once more guided his hands back onto her body, leading one to her breast while she pushed his other towards her pussy. In fascination, he swirled his thumb around the tiny nub peeking out through her damp curls, his mouth dropping as a full body shudder went through her, and oh sweet baby Merlin, he could see her split open sex flutter around his cock. She was keeping still as they both adjusted to the incredible sensations, and he was so very grateful for the respite. He pinched her nipple, causing her to squirm a bit, and he hissed. Fucking hell, he didn’t deserve to feel this good.

The sound of their harsh pants was soon joined by the obscene squelching of their joined bodies as she slowly started to move in a seductive, wet slide that caused stars to burst behind his eyes. He bucked against her, tentatively at first, but when it made her squeal he did it again, a devilish smile on his face. While one hand continued to toy with her breast, he lifted the one now drenched in pussy juices to his mouth and licked clean the delicious flavors that had dripped down his fingers onto his palm. It was sweeter than nectar, making him groan. He immediately craved more, and he swore to himself he would take more before this night was over.

His hand dipped down to gather more of her essence, when she started to move faster and called out his name.

“Severus! Please!”

She sounded so desperate that his heart squeezed and he was immediately ready to do anything she wished or needed.

“I’m here, Hermione. I’ve got you. Hah, you feel so good, so fucking good.”

“Tell me … p-please! OHH.”

“Anything, whatever you want, you brilliant witch. Just say the word.”

She pulled him down again for another fiery kiss, and he once more felt himself hurtling towards the edge as he lost himself to the steady rhythm of her body and the heat of her pussy.

_____________________________________

So immersed in passionate lovemaking, they didn’t even notice his arrival. He had broken through the locks and wards surrounding the bedroom with pathetic ease and now stood watching them with sharp and unwavering interest. Shock could not even begin to cover what he was feeling now, though it was quickly morphing into something … else. Something that simmered just beneath the surface and made his skin itch and his blood flow hot.

The sight of the woman he loved wrapped up in his own arms as she slowly fucked him thoroughly was something he never thought he would ever see – or be so aroused by.

But here he stood, rock hard, a low moan rumbling through his chest at the pornographic sight. He froze the moment the sound escaped him, assuming his presence would now be known, but he went completely unheeded by the other two. He supposed they were both making so much noise with their steady stream of heavy breathing, whispered words and low grunts and sighs, that he could get away with almost anything without being observed.

So this was what his honorable other self had planned all along, to get him out of the way so he could step in and seduce his student before he himself had a chance to get his hands on her.

Kinky.

He couldn’t help but admire the lengths he had gone to – drugging him for gods’ sake – in order to ensure he would have her all to himself, without her being tainted by his future, more experienced cock. Snape chuckled darkly. What a twisted, Slythern thing to do. It hadn’t even crossed his mind to check the alcohol in his own bolt hole.

Though admirable, it was a wasted endeavor. 

In the last couple years he had made the study of a variety of poisons and mind altering drugs a hobby, going as far as administering small doses on his person and allowing his body to slowly build up some resistance. He had made many enemies on both sides of the war, and coming across someone who might still want to do him harm, even after all this time, was not only possible but probable. Because of this –and fortunately for him – the effects of whatever sleeping drought he had been given wore off exceedingly fast, and here he was. He licked his lips.

Just in time to join in on all the fun.

He shook his head, adjusting himself in his pants. His past self was such an idiot. If he had just been honest with him, he would have happily stepped aside and given him free reign with Hermione. Provided he was allowed to watch.

And without question, he absolutely would watch. If Hermione was amenable, he would like to do more than watch eventually. His pulse raced at the thought.

Whispering a disillusionment charm to cast himself in shadow, he drew closer, nostrils flaring at the heady scent of sex that filled the room. Hermione was deliciously splayed out over his body, her skin glistening in the low light of the lanterns. She seemed to be in control of the proceedings, her body rocking slowly up and down his shaft, at times bending down to lick his mouth open with hers in a messy, deep kiss. They appeared to not be in any hurry to get to their release, and it was an incredibly salacious exhibition.

Fuck, she was delectable. His mouth watered as her cheeks opened like a flower whenever she bent forward. So lickable. Her plump rump, begging to be bitten.

Would she notice if he just had a little taste? If he kept his involvement minimal?

It was only fair. His face hardened. After all, that should be him on that bed, underneath her pale flesh. Inside her. Impatience won over and he waved his hand, causing his own clothes to vanish. It was then that he realized the identical set of clothes carelessly discarded on the floor by the bed. They matched his own exactly. His eyes glittered with anger at the sudden realization. His past self had arrived in her bedroom dressed as he was. Pretending to be him.

That motherfucker.

Hermione thought she was fucking him, just as they had planned earlier that evening! She must have no idea it was actually her professor. He scowled in disgust. How could he do that to her? Surely he cared enough for her at this point not to deceive her in such a blatant fashion? He thought back to this time of his life … he absolutely had stronger morals than that, asshole that he was. He was certain of it, which made the erotic scene enfolding just in front of him a bit … confusing. Well, he wasn’t going to stand by another moment. He would tell her immediately just who it was she was fucking so deliciously, and if she wanted to continue … perhaps with himself instead … All. The. Better.

He began to crawl on the bed behind them when he stilled his movements, their whispered words now loud enough to decipher.

“Tell me, Severus. Did we do this in your dreams? Hmmm? Did you fuck me like this, with me on top? Oh… oh gods , your cock is stretching me so much.”

She slowed her pace and swiveled her hips, causing him to cry out.

“That’s it, gorgeous. Let me take you slow and deep. Let yourself go. Ahh … please . Tell me what you did to me in that … Mmm … incredible mind of yours, right here on this … this bed.”

Severus closed his eyes, remembering those sordid dreams vividly as they had reoccurred often throughout the years since then. Well, this was interesting. Would his past self actually tell her? Or would he lie? They had been, after all, quite extreme. Diabolical as sin. Quite the opposite from the tender lovemaking in front of him now. His baser self had free reign in those wicked dreams, and they were filthy, vulgar even. He smirked and decided to wait and see how much he would divulge. If it was an inadequate retelling, he could always fill in any gaps for her. Mmm, he’d fill anything she wanted. As many times as she wanted. Hell, he’d joyfully reenact any part that peaked her fancy.

“Hermione … I … oh gods.”

Severus’s eyes widened as he hardly recognized his past self’s raspy voice that responded to her, so brittle and wrecked. He smiled, pleased despite his extreme irritation at being drugged and replaced as her sexual partner just now. It made his heart soar at the realization that she was now his first. He was literally watching Hermione take his virginity and teach his younger self the joys of sex. Observing how much care and attention she bestowed on him – however unworthy – made his heart ache, and he suddenly wondered if he shouldn’t be so swift to interrupt after all. It occurred to him that the passionate coupling unfolding before his very eyes was by far the single most glorious thing to ever happen to him up until that moment in time.

Actually, no. It was true for him as well.

Even with that pain fueled year after Hermione married Ron, when he had wallowed in a debased, sexual mire, he had never known what he was witnessing right now. The tawdry and self loathing encounters of meaningless fucking paled in comparison. He had finally broken that soul crushing attempt to fill the void in his heart about a year ago now, thank the gods. But in all that time, he had never felt a soft, loving touch before, not from anyone.

Would this beautiful moment be like a healing balm he desperately needed to replace his own numb, empty experiences? Would he be able to look back at this and relive it in his imagination? Savor it, hold it dear to his heart?

His eyes softened as he took in how his other body trembled and shook, how hesitantly he touched her, as though she might vanish if he were not careful. Like she was too good to be true. His dark eyes shone when they gazed up at her in hopeless adoration.

No, he could not bring himself to end this precious moment, however deceitful it came about. He just hoped Hermione would forgive him for letting it continue.

His own gravely, ruined voice broke him out of his sad musings. He leaned forward to listen, eyes widening at the words pouring out of him like a waterfall of confessions. Holy fucking shite. He was actually telling her.

“I – in the dreams, we are on this bed, that is true. Hermione, hnng, I can’t. Not with your pussy fluttering around me like that, squeezing … ohhh fuck. ”

She stilled her movements and kissed the tears that were now falling down his cheeks.

“Sorry love, I’ll be good. Tell me, then let’s find our release together.”

He cleared his throat once, then again.

“It’s … they may sound unpleasant to you. Please understand that they are mere dreams. I would never behave this way with you unless you desired it. Explicitly asked for it.”

“Of course, Severus. And who knows, maybe they’ll just make me burn hotter for you.” She grinned wide before settling down to rest against his sweat drenched chest. “Continue, please.”

He found himself moving towards her inviting, spread-open arse once more, desperate to eat her out until she screamed, but he stopped himself just in time. Not yet… he must be patient. 

“It’s slightly different every time, but usually, I tie you up, with your legs spread wide. I make you beg for my touch, and when I finally relent, I bring you to the edge again and again without letting you come. When it fancies me, I whip your buttocks with my wand until they glow a beautiful rosy red, other times I plunge my fingers inside your pussy while I suck your clit. I always, always I end up fucking you savagely … I set a brutal pace, and while I fuck your pussy, my fingers inevitably find themselves toying with your unbelievably tight butthole, teasing the rim at first but then slowly opening you up, working you through the initial discomfort until I can easily slide three fingers inside as I pound your pussy. Now, here’s the part you will find absurd, as dreams typically are. All at once, instead of my fingers, it’s my cock buried deeply in your ass. From that point on, I am simultaneously splitting you apart from below and above, and you are skewed and helpless against the onslaught. Willing, in my dream at least, as I savagely fuck you until you scream your voice raw.”

There was a stunned silence in the room, but then something incredible happened. Hermione started moaning and squirming on top of his other self, until finally she gasped and arched against him, having a spontaneous orgasm after hearing the contents of his dreams. This then caused his younger self to lose control against the assault of her spasming tunnel, and he came as well with a shout of release.

Heavy breathing followed, including his own as he became unbelievably more aroused at the sight. At some point, he had started stroking himself and was quite close. He thought he could hold off, but when Hermione started speaking, all was lost.

“Oh, oh gods, Severus! I had no idea your dreams were so … so –”

“Debased? Obscene? I apologize if they were distasteful to you, but you were quite insistent on hearing them.”

“No! Not at all! They were … fucking incredible!”

“What?”

“What?”

Oh shite, fuck! He had been so shocked at her response that he replied out loud at the same time as his other self, but luckily they didn’t notice … at least not yet.

“Merlin, I never realized how much I might enjoy the idea of a threesome with two of you until today. I’ve been having thoughts, briefly mind you, but I’ve been wondering … what it would be like. You know, to have the both of you at once. Ever since your future self arrived, it’s been flirting around the edges of my mind. And, oh my god, Severus. After hearing your sexy dream, I’m more sure than ever. I think … I think I would like to find out what it’s like, to experience you … simultaneously. We could role play your dream … or try other things.” She gulped and bit her lip before continuing with a trembling voice. “Would you … would you be amenable? I mean, would that be something you would be willing to try? We have two more days with your older self to explore possibilities. It wouldn’t be a dream, it would be better. ”

Unfortunately, before his younger self could respond, the most powerful orgasm he had ever experienced in his life exploded from his body and spewed hot spurts of come all over the both of them.

Well. It wasn’t the most elegant way to announce his presence, but it would have to do.

Chapter Text

Stunned silence enveloped them. Snape squeezed his eyes shut as he rode out his orgasm, ebony hair falling across his features frozen in a rictus of pleasure as he panted softly with his head down, bracing himself for the fallout of his actions. He whispered a cleaning spell over all three of them in an attempt to lessen the blow of what he had just done. When no one said anything, he blinked his eyes open and glanced up. He was met with Hermione’s own wide eyed stare as she twisted around on top of his younger self to gape at him in absolute shock. As they gazed at one another, her surprise slowly morphed into something heated and raw and, oh gods, her eyes were now traveling down his body, and impossibly, when they focused on his softening cock, he felt himself pulse with interest, her gaze like a physical caress against his skin.

“Severus! You’re awake.”

It took him longer than it should have to fully comprehend the significance of those two words. His eyes widened as hurt flashed across his face.

“You … you knew?”

She scrambled off of his other self unceremoniously, seeing his uncertainty. Reaching out, she grabbed his hand in both of hers, her expression apologetic.

“Of course she bloody knows,” his younger self spit out, having finally caught his breath and was clearly unhappy he had arrived. “The real question is, why the hell are you conscious so soon? I had hoped not to have to lay eyes on you until morning at the earliest.”

He glanced at his younger self, unsurprised to find him glaring at him as though he had stolen Christmas. The audacity, when he was the one that had drugged him, trying to steal this night from him.

Anger, bright and hot, flashed within him at the reminder of his transgression, and before his other self could get up or find his clothes, he waved his hand, leather shackles instantly wrapping around his wrists and ankles. As an afterthought, he added a gag with a smirk. Couldn’t have him whispering hexes at him now could he? The bastard was now thoroughly tied down to the bed, and he lifted a taunting brow at him. The sight of his own outrage made him bark out a laugh. He couldn’t help but shake his head in amusement, never having realized before how comical he looked when truly furious. Gods, his whole face scrunched up like a prune.

Fucking hilarious.

It should take him a while to figure out the counter spell to this specific binding charm. It was an archaic enchantment he had stumbled upon in an obscure text quite by accident. He doubted many wizards still used it, as it was not as effective as other, spells. Pushing down his mirth, he threatened himself through gritted teeth.

“I’ll deal with you later. Misbehave, and I’ll blindfold you as well.”

Hermione squeezed his hand, pleading eyes begging him not to be angry. He turned away from the frenzied struggle now going on in the bed to focus entirely on her, cupping her face tenderly. She was obviously so concerned with how he was feeling, worried about his reaction to what he had walked in on, that she had not even processed that he had strung up his younger self just behind her.

Yes, it had shocked him to find his pious-acting past self balls deep in her when he had been excitedly looking forward to doing just that … and more. His first impulse had been to rip the scoundrel out from underneath her and tear him apart. However, after letting his mind catch up with what his eyes were taking in, he reluctantly admitted to himself that he should be thankful for how it was playing out. It was a huge step in the right direction, one he had just about given up hope on. Blinking back to the present, he smiled softly down into her tear filled eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Severus. I should have insisted on checking on you first when I found out he drugged you.”

“Oh Hermione. Darling. You have nothing to apologize for.”

She pressed her body against his, and he wrapped his arms around her, groaning at the delicious feeling of her supple skin against his own hot flesh. She continued, now breathless.

“He told me everything, how he drugged you, pretended to be you in order to try and keep us apart. It upset me at first, but … I really believe he acted with pure intentions. He was afraid you would hurt me or wanted to take advantage of the circumstances since you won’t be here very long. But I know better. I trust you would never knowingly hurt me.”

“Never,” he whispered as he bent down for a lingering kiss, his mind struggling to focus on her words as his body awakened exceptionally fast, considering he had just come spectacularly all over the room and on the occupants therein. Losing himself in her beguiling scent, her touch, he deepened the kiss, teasing her tongue with his as his hands wandered down to mold themselves to her arse. She was so soft, so irresistible. She wiggled enticingly, rubbing against his growing hardness, clearly wanting more than just the one round with his younger, inexperienced self. He smiled smugly against her lips. Oh fuck, the things he could show her, the heights she could soar with a little guidance from his tongue and cock. He doubted his younger self had done much more than hang on for dear life … had she even orgasmed with him?

She broke away from his searing kiss to moan hotly against his ear.

“You’re … you’re not angry with me?”

He chuckled as he cupped her flushed face and notated her dilated pupils while he shook his head slowly.

“I should be asking you that question. I did stand there and watch after all.” He closed his eyes as the recent, delicious memory flashed across his mind. “Heavens above, you are a vision, Hermione. It was difficult not to bite that inviting arse of yours as you bent over my younger self.”

She gasped, blushing hotly at his words.

“SEVERUS! Oh my god! How … how long were you watching?”

“Long enough to … enjoy myself.” He glanced down at his own nudity, causing her to go an even darker shade of crimson and avert her gaze.

“I assumed you had recently arrived.” She lifted her chin and adorably straightened herself to her full height in an attempt to regain some dignity. “Well. You should have made yourself known sooner.”

He couldn’t resist pulling her against himself once more, and he allowed his hands to roam in order to drive his point home. “If I were an honorable man, instead of an opportunistic, Slytherin reprobate, I would have.” He let his fingers skim the crack of her arse, and her fingers tightened on his arms. “Also, it would have defeated the whole purpose of my being here.”

She buried her face in his chest, inhaling his scent as her arms wrapped around him to cling to his back.

“Mmm, purpose?”

He chuckled and decided to goad her … just a bit. “Hermione Granger, are you even paying attention? Or is my body too … distracting … for that big brain of yours.”

She scowled lightheartedly up at him before reaching down to pinch his own pert bum.

Eyes widening at her bold move, he gripped her tighter, dragging his hardening cock along the seam of her quim.

She opened her mouth in a silent moan and shivered against him. Leaning down, he whispered in her ear.

“As you would recall … if your sweet pussy were not doing all the thinking for you at present … I am here to bring the two of you together.”

The irony of that statement was not lost on him, considering he fully intended to take her while his other self was forced to watch. It was his turn now, long overdue.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling her down with him to straddle his lap. She went willingly, wrapping her arms around his neck and playing with his hair as she settled herself firmly against his dick. Oh Circe, she was molten hot and her skimpy, torn panties were doing nothing to stop his cock from being soaked with her cream as she slid against him suggestively. He had to have died and gone to Valhalla. 

“Seeing you here, on this bed with him has given me hope for my own future with you. Any … affection … you choose to bestow on me while I’m in this time is just an added bonus.” He smiled wickedly at her, nipping at her throat. “And I’m just selfish enough to take whatever you are willing to give me, but I promise you...”

Hands sliding up to hold her firmly along her back, he allowed her body to arch backwards just enough so he could lean down and suck one of her pert nipples into his mouth, slurping loudly on it while he felt his other self’s renewed frantic struggle to be free. Hermione flung her head back with a wanton moan, and he released her hardened peak with a loud pop only to then give his attention to the other one. Only after he had lavished both with equal regard did he continue.

“Despite the unfounded fears of my younger self, it is not to take advantage of you. The fact is–” At this he brought her body back snugly against his chest and stared deeply into her eyes, trying to convey the depth of feeling behind his next words.

“I love you. Ardently. With every fiber of my being. A few stolen moments with you is worth a lifetime of pain and loneliness. In my reality, the one I temporarily left behind, I had lost you. I was too late. If I can’t keep my hands off of you it’s only because I’ve ached for you in vain, Hermione. For years now. So if this is the only taste I will ever have of you, I will die a happy man.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped open, and she gazed at him as though he had grown another nose.

“OH, Severus. I love you too! I never thought you would feel the same about me, not like that. When you first arrived, I could see your heart for me written all over your face.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “It was so painful, cruel even, when juxtaposed against my own professor’s seeming indifference. You seemed so …otherworldly … identical to the man I’ve grown to love in every way but the heart.” She leaned forward to kiss him slowly, deeply before continuing breathlessly.

“Tonight has taught me to hope as well.” 

He leaned in to kiss her again and, heart sinking, he saw the exact moment she glanced behind him and finally took in the state of her professor. Mouth dropping in horror, she gasped in alarm and tried to wiggle free of his arms, no doubt wanting to rescue the cad.

He sighed heavily and held her captive in his arms, unwilling to let go just yet. Fuck. He glanced back at himself and smirked at how absolutely murderous he looked. He wondered if the sight turned her on, as his other self was completely naked, gagged, helplessly bound, and spread across the satin sheets like an all you can eat buffet. 

“Oh, he’ll be alright. He’s in a timeout, but we shall release him in a bit.” He continued, louder for the other’s benefit. “IF he behaves himself.”

“Severus! Let me go, let him go.”

He stubbornly held her close to him, leaving a trail of hot kisses across her neck in an attempt to distract her.

“He drugged me, remember? Does he not deserve to be … punished?”

He latched onto the tender skin just under her ear, sucking harshly and was rewarded with a shriek that quickly turned into a wanton moan as she paused her attempts at breaking free. She trembled against his lips and he let his tongue swirl around the reddening flesh.

“Look at him, Hermione. So. Very. Helpless. … you could do anything you wanted to him. How could you pass up such an opportunity?”

She panted against his ear, but he could tell she was obeying him, drinking in the sight before her, letting it arouse her as she began to unconsciously rock her pussy against him.

“Oh, I shouldn’t… I couldn’t. He looks so upset … he wouldn’t want me to.”

He snorted indelicately. “The fuck he wouldn’t. I can assure you that every ounce of that negative energy pouring off of his person right now is directed at me and me alone. You would Rock. His. World. if you took advantage of his delicate state, though why I’m encouraging you to do so is beyond me, as I am loath to let go of you just now.” He glanced back to smirk into identical dark, widening eyes.

He continued low, as though to himself. “Gods what I wouldn’t give to be at your mercy. To be defenseless and unable to let whatever ridiculous scruples are still bouncing around in my head at this point to rise up and force my conscious to put a stop to the proceedings … of having my control taken deliciously away so you could explore my exposed body with your delicate fingers and tongue at your leisure while I am powerless to stop you.”

He spun around, overcome with his own need and buried his face in her neck, licking and sucking with abandon as his hand found her wet pussy and dived in, quickly bringing her to the brink but not letting her slip over the edge.

His voice was ragged now. “Observe how even now he trembles for your touch … how his once sleeping cock is now leaking at my words in its own unique stamp of approval.” He chuckled darkly. “ Look, Hermione. Tell me what you see.”

She clung to him now, rocking into his fingers as she looked over his shoulder, trying to obey his command. “He’s … o-ohhhh … he’s staring at me now, he looks shocked at your words. And, oh my god his cock is moving, growing bigger. Professor! Do … do you want me to touch you?”

All they heard was a whimper which morphed into a drawn out groan around the gag as the prone man closed his eyes tightly against the sight of his other self fingering her.

“Oh yes, he wants it. Besides, you want to, I know you do. Underneath that innocent, academia persona is a tigress waiting to break free. No, don’t deny it. I’ve caught glimpses of her, and I am hopelessly smitten. Tell me, what would you like to do to me if there were no … consequences?”

He was met with silence other than the sound of her breath, coming quicker as she took in his bound form and the weeping cock, no longer nestled against his leg but standing tall and proud.

She licked her lips. “I … I want to taste him … you. Make you come in my mouth. Then I want to ride him again with you behind me … t-touching me as well.”

He pulled back to search her eyes as a devious smile stretched slowly across his face. “Can I do more than touch? Can I explore inside your lovely arse while I’m behind you?”

She blushed and looked down.

He chuckled at her embarrassment. “Don’t be ashamed, love. I’ve often thought of taking you there.” He glanced over at his other self. “Even back then, when my feelings for you were new and oh so forbidden, the idea had occurred to me.”

“Yes.” She was panting now, the idea obviously turning her on.

“Do anything to me, just … I’ve never done that before. So … please be gentle.”

The fact she felt the need to request gentleness pulled at his heart strings and he immediately began to rub her back in soothing circles and showered her face, neck and arms, any part of her he could reach, with tender kisses.

“Hermione, sweet girl, I would never hurt you. We can wait and try that another time or even abstain from going there all together if you are at all uncomfortable. I only want to give you pleasure, in whatever form that takes. And my former self would agree with that as well if he were at liberty to speak.”

“No! I mean, yes! I want to… I'm just nervous.”

He kept soothing her with his mouth and hands, and smiled against her skin.

“Oh love, I’ll make you feel so good. So good. You’ll be begging me for more in no time. Don’t be nervous. Now, why don’t you go comfort your professor, as I’m sure he is feeling a bit … left out.”

He let her go, and she immediately crawled over to his younger self’s trembling, sweat drenched form. She caressed his cheek, and his eyes softened and his body relaxed immediately at her touch. Merlin’s balls, he was already wrapped around her little finger and she had no idea.

“Oh professor, I'm sorry you are bound.”

Turning back to him, she huffed. “Severus, remove the gag at once. I want to speak with him.”

“As you wish, though I highly doubt he has anything of import to utter.” He waved his hand nevertheless, letting the gag fall away from his mouth.

Hermione wiped away the traces of saliva before kissing him and sliding her hand along his slick torso. Unnoticed by her, he bucked his hips against the air. When she pulled back to gaze adoringly at him, he immediately started spewing out dire warnings. Future Severus rolled his eyes, tired of hearing his younger self beat that same old drum.

“Miss Granger, please rethink whatever you are considering, do not let that man touch you, on your …” He cleared his throat. “... bottom …” Even as he said the word, splashes of red dusted his face and chest. “... or anywhere else for that matter. He may look like me but clearly, he cannot be trusted! He wants one thing from you, and one thing only!”

“Is that so?” He purred, coming up behind her and deliberately stroking her sides while his other self could do nothing but track the movement with a possessive glare.

“And what do you want, pray tell?” He snorted, sarcasm dripping from every word. “A game of chess?” Even Hermione giggled in amusement, and he saw her glance down to his younger self’s throbbing erection.

“See that, Hermione?” He whispered hotly. “See how he burns for you even as he pretends to have innocent motives in comparison to me? What would the famous muggle Freud have to say about his insistence that his older self wants to have his way with you? Self projecting much?"

He glanced down into her face, noting that her eyes were glazing over as she continued to stare at her professor’s naked form.

“Hermione, touch him. Show him what he’s been missing his whole life, and maybe he’ll even shut up so I can enjoy myself as well.”

She took a deep breath and hesitantly spoke. “Sir, please stop protesting your other self being here. I … I want you. Both of you. Can I … may I take you into my mouth? I dearly wish to do so.”

His younger self’s eyes widened, and he groaned at the words coming out of her mouth. But then he glanced back at him and his expression soured. Seething, he spat out,

“With him right there? Should we not … request that he vacates the premises first?”

He snorted in disbelief. “Chance would be a fine thing.” He added with mock innocence, “Would it help if I blindfolded you?”

He was rewarded with a fierce scowl and chuckled. Hermione looked back at him with irritation, rolling her eyes.

“Would you two knock it off! You’re acting like a couple of schoolboys. Honestly.” She slowly crawled between his younger self’s legs, adding suggestively, “There is plenty of me to go around, I promise.” She peppered kisses along his inner thigh, causing him to gasp in shock and tense his muscles.

She smiled and, with seemingly renewed confidence, breathed her question once more against his cock.

“Sir? You never answered my question. May I?” She purred as she stared down at his member, her eyes tracking a fresh dribble of pre-cum as it trailed down his shaft. She licked her lips before glancing back into his dilated midnight eyes, boring holes inside of her with raw desire.

He watched the moment his younger self caved with a smile of triumph. His younger self squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, pulling once more against his restraints. 

“Heaven help me, yes. OH ffuck.”

He hadn’t even finished giving her permission when she swallowed his head like a popsicle, sucking and licking it as though she might be pulled away at any moment. He watched from behind her in awe, his own cock throbbing against his leg with want.

He no longer needed to worry about any objections from his younger self, as he was quickly losing all sense of reality from the overwhelming sensations of his first blow job. He thrashed on the bedsheets, moaning out a steady stream of curses between breathless pants.

While she lavished love on her professor, he bent down to skim his lips up her spine and she arched against his touch, just like a cat. He finally vanished the tattered remains of lingerie, leaving her freckled skin deliciously bare. Following his hands with his mouth, he left a wet trail of hot kisses and bites along the smooth planes of her back, letting his hands slip around to cup her dangling, heavy breasts. She moaned against the cock in her mouth, causing her professor to lift his entire body off the bed and strain madly against his bindings.

“Oh I think he liked that. Try humming against him, yes just like that. See how desperate he is becoming? You may want to slow down, he won’t last long with how mercilessly you are sucking on him.”

He couldn’t believe he was guiding her through the blowjob. His past self owes him one big time for this.

“Put your hand around the shaft like this.” He guided her hand and slowly brought it up and down his wide girth. “Grip tighter, yes. Good girl. Now rub your palm along the head to use his own essence to make the sliding of your hand along his shaft smoother. Fuck, he is losing his mind. I can only pray to the gods that this memory will appear in my own mind from his perspective when I return. MMmm, you are incredible. See how it’s leaking even more, than means he likes it. Now, dip your tongue into his slit, perfect, just push his hips back down when he misbehaves. He is undone because of you, my little vixen. Gods, I can’t take my eyes off of you. Your body is irresistible, did you know? I want to eat you up. In fact, I’m going to devour you now. Continue what you’re doing, make him come down your throat and even then …” He smiled evilly. “Don’t stop.”

She let his cock slip out from her lips with a wet pop, nuzzling it with affection as she breathily answered, “Yes, please. Do w-whatever you want with me.” And then she was on the lucky bastard again as he bucked and wailed in delicious agony.

Snape was behind her in an instant, unable to hold himself back any longer. Moving her prone form to a kneeling posture with her head down and ass up, he admired the sight with ravenous eyes. He tried to memorize the sight, for it was the most beautiful, glorious picture he had ever been presented with.

His mouth salivated and he grabbed two huge handfuls of plump globes and squeezed before releasing. Her flesh bounced, his handprints lingering a few moments after he let go. Bending down, he licked a broad path from her pussy all the way up the dark cleft of her butt, causing her to simultaneously freeze and squeal at the intimate gesture. He repeated the action and her arms collapsed beneath her, her head landing on his other self’s stomach as she grabbed his thighs to hold on.

He smirked against her hot flesh at how sensitive she was, but he paused to admonish her.

“Hermione darling, keep going. You mustn’t keep your poor professor waiting any longer.”

She shakily pulled herself back up to slurp on the angry cock and moaned helplessly around the large organ as he dove back down to give his full attention to that magnificent ass. He spread her wide with his fingers, blowing warm air against the puckered entrance, watching how it clenched against the sensation. He left butterfly kisses all around her opening until she whined in protest, clearly wanting his mouth back on her most intimate place. He happily obliged, hardening his tongue into a point and flicking it over the little hole again and again.

________________________________________

Hermione never wanted it to end. Her body was on fire, shockwaves skirting along her flesh from the sinful things Snape was doing with his tongue. She was so incredibly aroused that the initial shock of him putting his mouth on such a dirty part of her was wearing off, and now … well, now she was shamelessly pushing her arse back into his face, desperate for more of that tongue. She was drooling all over the cock in her mouth, forgetting what she was doing as she laved it over and over, mindlessly drinking up every bit of liquid that was leaking out the tip as the muscular body beneath her continued to thrash against the bindings.

When the teasing licks became more insistent and pushed for admittance, she finally relaxed her muscles and allowed it to enter her. Holy fucking shit, as his hot organ slithered inside of her, it alighted her velvety inner walls with sparks of electricity. She began to uncontrollably shake from the overwhelming sensations accosting her, and she moaned deeply around the cock she was now bobbing on as though it held her salvation.

On and on, his mouth and tongue teased her by darting in, exploring her depths before pulling out to lick around her sensitive hole. Each time he pushed in a little deeper before disappearing again. She was humping air now in frustration as her neglected pussy leaked her arousal down the sides of her thighs. She was delirious with pleasure and whining desperately for more.

When would he just take her and stop this torturous teasing? She gasped when she felt his lips suction around her hole as his tongue burrowed in once again, and she groaned at the obscene slurping noises he made as he ate her out like a man possessed. Her back passage felt stretched from his tongue alone, as she had never inserted anything there before. Gods the sensation was overwhelming in the extreme, so novel.

When he started to tongue fuck her in a steady, unrelenting rhythm, he added three fingers inside her pussy, plunging them inside in tandom to his wicked tongue. She screamed out her pleasure at the top of her lungs as an orgasm violently crashed down upon her in wave after wave. In response, the cock in her mouth jerked at the vibrations her screaming made, and without warning, her mouth filled with gobs of come as she distantly heard her professor’s hoarse cries joining her own. Mind in a fog of ecstasy, she instinctively swallowed every drop that was given to her, almost choking in the process as she ground against the man behind her, riding the lingering waves of pleasure until at last, she began to come down from her high.

She collapsed in a delirious heap between her professor’s legs, and an indiscriminate amount of time passed while she dozed in and out of consciousness. She could feel warm hands tenderly stroking her legs, but it wasn’t until she heard a whispered spell that she glanced up at her professor. Her eyes widened as they locked onto his intense gaze, and she gasped as the cuffs on his wrists and ankles fell away from him. Before she could react further, he sat up and pulled her into his lap, bringing her legs forward to wrap around his hips. He then captured her lips in a passionate, deep kiss, and she moaned against his mouth, mind whirling to catch up with what just happened. When they broke apart, she was breathless.

“Sir. How … when did you realize you knew the releasing spell?”

He sighed, smiling wryly. 

“I could have broken free at any time if I had had my full wits about me.” He licked his lips, eyes hungrily sliding down her naked form, pausing on her hardened nipples. “And if I weren’t so damnably curious to find out what exactly you wanted to do to me, thinking me subdued.” His eyes shot up to meet hers, and she held her breath. “You did not disappoint.”

She startled when a sweat slicked chest brushed against her back, and she let her head fall to the side as lips latched onto her neck, slowly leaving a bruise there with ever tightening suction.

She panted as hands from behind cupped her breasts, pushing them together so the nipples almost touched.

“Go on.” The husky voice whispered, having released her neck’s tender skin. “Drink from her tits.”

Her professor stared for several suspended seconds at his older self just behind her, and she feared he would object to the other’s presence once more. When she saw the small nod of grave acceptance he gave himself, her heart leapt with excitement. However, her elated smile quickly morphed into an opened mouthed intake of shocked breath as without further hesitation, he took the offered nipples and sucked on them while his older self held them tightly together against his mouth.

She closed her eyes as she felt fresh tingles of arousal envelop her as she was now pressed firmly between the two, their heat and scent enveloping her senses as one fed hungrily on her breasts as the other’s hard shaft rubbed up against her drenched pussy.

“I hope you still have plenty of energy, Hermione.” Hot breath against her ear caused goosebumps to rise along her flesh.

“The night is young, and we’ve only just begun.”

Chapter Text

Hermione felt like putty beneath their hands as they explored her body. Bursts of electricity thrummed in the wake of those wickedly talented fingers dragging across her skin. She never wanted them to stop touching her. Strong arms wrapped around her as his older self continued to massage her breasts while feeding them to his younger self, whose lap she now straddled as his own hands had strayed down to her arse and was squeezing her globes, pulling them tantalizingly apart. She leaned back against a hard chest, inhaling the warm scent that surrounded her. Future Snape’s sharp mouth found her pulse point directly behind her ear and sucked harshly, causing her to squeal and arch between them. The overwhelming sensation of being the object of both men’s complete focus was a heady one, and she panted as they continued to play her body like virtuosos worshiping their favorite instrument.

A low chuckle washed over her neck and she shivered, the dark notes sending sparks of pleasure to her core. His hot breath tickled her ear as he encouraged his younger self to continue indulging in her body.

“You like that, don’t you?” He addressed his younger self. “I know how many sleepless hours you’ve spent trying not to think of what her skin tastes like or how her puckered nipples would react to your tongue … your teeth. Go ahead. Bite them.”

Her heart rate skyrocketed as her professor listened without hesitation and bit down, tugging one nipple roughly with his teeth before moving to the other until she cried out, gripping his shoulders desperately. She was shaking all over now as her beloved professor came alive with each passing moment, growing bolder and more demanding with each searing touch. He was finally losing himself to pleasure, giving himself over to his desire for her, and the thought of what he might do to her now that he wasn’t holding himself back caused a fresh pulse of slick to leak from her pussy. Gods she wanted him. Wanted both of them.

Suddenly, her professor leaned back against the sheets and stared up at her with a predatory gaze, beckoning her with his finger.

“Come. Here.”

She blinked, her mind hazy from arousal. Apparently, she didn’t move fast enough.

“Now, Granger. You know patience is not one of my virtues.”

She whimpered at his tone, crawling up his body automatically. He was using his stern teacher's voice, the one that made her squirm in the classroom, and she realized she’d do anything he demanded of her … anything.

She paused when her face was level with his, and he smiled devilishly up at her. She gaped down at him, her insides fluttering at his hypnotic, alluringly dark expression when his hands grabbed her arse without warning and tugged harshly, making her almost faceplant above him. Her arms shot out to catch herself while he easily maneuvered her bottom up his chest, her surprised reluctance no match for his strength. She winced as she felt herself smearing him with her juices as she was forcibly slid up his chest. He was unrelenting, so she gave up any further resistance and allowed him to pull her ever closer to his head.

“Keep going. Yes, that’s it, almost there. Now, sit on my face.”

Hermione gasped in absolute shock to hear such a lascivious demand coming out of that normally reticent mouth, in those deep, reverberating tones. This wasn’t his future, sexually liberated self. No, this was her professor, a normally reserved, taciturn man whom she would never have believed capable of – or willing – to speak in such an openly filthy way, making his desire explicitly known to her without an ounce of uncertainty. Gone were his earlier scruples over the morality of what he secretly craved from her. He had been so reluctant to share his dreams of her, looking repentant even as he described them to her with her constant encouragement.

Now, he sounded positively ragged from lust, and this new side of him made her dizzy.

She bit her lip as she hesitatingly positioned her legs on either side of his head, her pussy now hovered directly above his face. His eyes flashed before narrowing as he studied her closely, a look of pure, salacious want overtaking his features as he appeared completely mesmerized by the view. She swallowed back a sudden bout of shyness, her face radiating heat from embarrassment at his intimate perusal. As he continued to closely study her parted lips, his penetrating eyes moving over the most vulnerable, delicate part of her anatomy with slow deliberation, she fought the urge to close her legs and move away from his heated inspection. It was all at once too much.

He must have sensed she was about to flee because his strong, calloused hands wrapped around and gripped her thighs tightly, ensnaring her and guaranteeing she would not be able to move even an inch away. Her mind began to spiral with insecure thoughts of how soaked she was down there, what it must look like, smell like, with his face so close that his warm breath swirled around her sensitive nub and slick walls like a gentle caress, causing goosebumps to erupt all along her spine. She opened her mouth to object when she felt his older self move close behind her to peer down over her shoulder at the proceedings. His hands slid comfortingly along her sides, and he groaned.

“Look at him, Hermione.” He purred seductively in her ear, and she found herself relaxing a bit. “He has been brought low by your utter beauty, your magnificence. You’ve left him blessedly speechless, and he hasn’t even tasted the nectar of your sweet pussy yet.” He licked the edge of her outer ear before nibbling on her lobe, causing her to shudder. “I find myself jealous of his current position, but I’ll be sure to have my own turn before long.”

She felt his hands move down to her buttocks and part them, sliding a finger down and dipping into her tight heat, causing a moan to erupt from her lips as she threw her head back to rest against his shoulder. He glided his finger around her opening, teasing her several times before adding another finger and dipping inside her once more.

“You’re so wet and slippery. So ready for us. Fuck.”

As he spoke she felt a warm tongue flick up and give an experimental lick to her clitoris, and if older Snape were not there holding her from behind, she might have fallen backwards as electricity shot through her body at the contact.

“Oh!” She cried out, unconsciously lowering herself closer to her professor’s face as he continued his slow exploration of her clit and outer lips with his tongue. His older self began to pump his fingers inside her, coating them thoroughly with her juices. When she felt her professor clamp down on her throbbing clit and begin to suck as he continued flicking his tongue against the sensitive head, she lost all strength in her legs and she sat down fully on his face. He groaned his appreciation, the vibrations escalating the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her from her core. He now ate her ravenously, the sounds he made positively graphic and loud. All she could do was hang on for dear life, clinging desperately to his hair with one hand and holding the headboard with the other as she began to move her body in small, rocking motions.

“Oh gods, oh gods … holy FUCKING SHIT!” 

Her voice steadily rose in volume as she lost herself to the decadent sensations. Snape chuckled a hot breath against her ear, and she felt his fingers pull out of her pussy. She whined at their absence but quickly sucked in a breath as she felt them tentatively circle her tight sphincter, pressing lightly against her little arsehole but not fully penetrating.

“May I fuck your arse as he gorges on your pussy? Hmm?  It would be an honor, darling.”

She closed her eyes and groaned at the polite request.

“I … I already told you...” She was panting and had to pause in order to gulp in a breath, hardly able to speak as she felt herself hurtling towards a powerful orgasm thanks to her professor’s sinful mouth.

“You can … uhhhng … do whatever you want. Please.”

With the hand not currently rubbing soft circles against her entrance, he pulled her chin back towards him and leaned in for a kiss so achingly tender. When they broke apart she blinked up into his eyes and felt her heart stutter as his eyes gazed into hers with such naked adoration.

“This means so much more to me than sex. I love you, darling Hermione. I hope you realize that.” His face had grown solemn as he whispered the words against her lips.

“Y–yes, mmm. I know. I … l–love you too ahhh.”

He snorted as his younger self gave a particularly loud growl against her pussy as he continued to feast on her. Hermione’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, so she missed how his features softened as he gazed at her flushed face and caressed her check with his thumb

“Well then. I’m glad we have that sorted, because I plan to fuck the living daylights out of that pert little arse of yours.”

This roused her back to focus on him, and she burst into laughter at how quickly he changed direction of thought.

“See to it that you do, Severus. I expect nothing less.”

He gave her a promising if not lecherous grin before letting her face go so he could grip her hip tightly with one hand as he prepped her with his other.

One of his long fingers entered her without any further ado, and the slight burn helped temper her approaching orgasm. She breathed deeply, forcing her muscles to relax as he wiggled his digit just inside her opening before pulling back only to press in again, barely penetrating her so she could grow accustomed to his intrusion. He was being so gentle with her, so patient even as he prepped her for an apparently wild buggering that she found the juxtaposition incredibly erotic. It wasn’t long before he was able to slide the full length of his index finger inside of her, and she fell slightly forward, gripping the sheets tightly as she cried out. Her professor must have sensed her discomfort, as he rubbed his hands up and down her thighs while he went back to tenderly licking her pussy with lazy strokes, at times dipping deeply to tongue fuck her.

She focused on the pleasure he was giving her as his older self introduced a second finger. He pushed inside just a bit before stopping and stroking her back.

“Tell me if this is too much, Hermione. We can stop at any time.”

“No! Keep going …I – I want this.”

“As you wish.” There was a distinctive smirk in his voice.

She felt him magically adding more lube to his hands as well as her hole as he once more entered her with two fingers. It was uncomfortable but not horrible, the drag of his fingers along her tight, inner walls sensuous in a way that was completely novel to her. In fact, this was the first time she had ever allowed anyone unfettered access to that part of her, and it left her feeling vulnerable but at the same time … safe and cared for. She realized there was no one else she would have trusted to experience this with. Not anyone. 

She groaned as he entered a third finger, the extra slippery coating on his fingers actually starting to make the friction feel good to her. As in, really good. Panting, she gripped Snape’s hair beneath her with both hands now and started to hump his face with gusto, her forward motion rubbing her clit deliciously against his nose while her backwards retreat pushed those slender, adept fingers more deeply into her arse. It was pure bliss, and just as she felt herself beginning to fall over the edge, she felt his fingers withdraw and the blunt head of his penis drag along her pussy, collecting her cream before pushing steadily against her now relaxed and thoroughly stretched anus. He entered her in slow, steady increments, his hands gripping her hips as he claimed her.

She stilled as he filled her, her eyes widening at how massive he felt from within her rectum, the ridges of his cock dragging against her with ever increasing pressure she thought she may pass out from the overwhelming sensation of it. Her orgasm still hovered near the surface, but it was momentarily subdued as all of her attention was now on feeling as though he were splitting her bowels open. After several more suspended moments, she felt his balls tickle the back of her arse, and she knew he was completely inside of her. They were both now unmoving and breathing heavily, and even her professor beneath her had ceased his attentions on her pussy to gaze up at her with wide eyed wonder, apparently at what she was allowing his older self to do to her. She managed a brief smile down at him between gasping breaths, when Snape wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck.

“You’re so tight, Hermione.” His voice was wrecked. “So velvety and perfect. I could come without even moving, the way your arse is gripping me so tightly – fuck!”

He broke into a breathless chuckle. “You little minx.” She had squeezed his cock with her inner muscles at his words of how tight she was, which then caused him to nip at her throat and give her a little playful slap on her buttocks in reprimand. His voice lowered and became silky like melted butter.

“Do you need to be punished, Hermione?” His hand rubbed the spot he had lightly smacked. “Would you like that?” As he waited for a response, he pulled out of her halfway and then slowly sank back inside of her, causing her ecstatic yes to be wrung out of her in a shredded wail. All she could do was moan as all the nerve endings he was rubbing against alit with an intense vibrancy.

“Yes, that’s it. Take it, take all of it. My cock belongs inside of you.” He was speeding up his pace, and she found herself almost drooling from the ecstasy of it all. He spanked her again, causing her to jolt at the contact. She opened her mouth to dare him to do it again, when she suddenly felt the sensation of floating. Startled, she glanced down at her professor, and his eyes glittered up at her mischievously as he murmured a spell, easily causing both her and his older self to become suspended over the bed, completely weightless.

Snape didn’t break his stride but continued to fuck her steadily, seemingly able to pump into her backside even more gracefully from this gravity free position. With dawning realization, Hermione watched wide eyed as her professor moved from beneath her to a sitting position. Her eyes were immediately drawn to his engorged organ, pulsing and angry red from being neglected. Her mouth watered at the sight of his pre-cum seeping out of the head, and a thrill went through her as he flicked his delicate wrist and she was lowered again, this time with her pussy lining up to his steel-hardened dick just waiting to impale her. She bit her lip with excitement as they fit together as perfectly as a jigsaw puzzle as he rotated her a bit so her legs could easily fit around his waist as with one great thrust of his hips, he plunged inside of her until he bottomed out.

She screamed herself hoarse as they were now both moving inside of her, penetrating her from both ends. They seemed to somehow be psychically in tune with what the other was doing, as when one slammed into her from one side, the other was pulling out. On and on they fucked her while simultaneously driving her body mad with their hands and mouths. Her professor sucked harshly at one of her tits as his older self reached around to pinch her neglected nipple with one hand as he rubbed her clit mercilessly with the other. She didn’t stand a chance against the onslaught from all sides, and she exploded in a violent orgasm, thrashing between them helplessly as they continued their ministrations, neither of them showing any signs of slowing down.

Several minutes later, she went limp between them, as boneless as a rag doll while they chased their own release. She felt teeth skim down her neck and playfully bite down on her shoulder, and she arched against the sweaty chest plastered along her back. All three of them were damp from sweat, and as the echos of her cries quieted down, she could hear the raw sounds of their fucking, the slick slapping of skin against skin, the squelching sounds her body made as they plundered her thoroughly. It was so filthy, so utterly debauched that she could feel herself growing aroused again. Whimpering, she dragged her hands up her professor’s chest, enjoying the feeling of his muscles contracting as he fucked her from below.

Hot breath blew in her left ear as another mouth snaked its tongue inside her right. Oh gods, they were going to be the death of her, and she loved them for it. She squeezed her eyes closed and let them maneuver her body to their own needs. One of them chuckled at her complete surrender.

“Don’t tell me you’re tapping out on us already? We are hardly finished indulging in the delights your body is so generously bestowing on us. ” She smiled without replying, simply stretching her arms above her head, luxuriating in the feel of their cocks sliding against one another within her, with only a small inner wall separating them from each other. The thought that they were now getting off at the feel of the other’s movement inside of her made her giggle, which only seemed to spur them on further. Another dark, sinful voice added in her other ear.

“I won’t accept anything less than three orgasms from you, Granger, in quick succession. Unless you lack the strength to endure, of course. You have my permission to give up now–”

“No!” She practically shouted. She hardly wanted to stop now, and even though she could see right through this obvious attempt at using reverse psychology on her – whether it was her professor or his future self … she wasn’t sure who was speaking into which ear as she was becoming delirious and losing track – she had no intention of letting either of them go until they had all found their release. If that meant she needed to come multiple times, so be it. There were worse fates, she thought wryly.

“So be it.” The other voice said, and she kept her eyes closed as their hands memorized each inch of skin on her body, periodically flicking her clit or pinching a nipple, all the while keeping her right on the edge of another release.

What put her over the edge the second time was the sound of their voices in her ears, telling her how tight she was, how much they loved her arse, her pussy, how her beautiful breasts jiggled so enticingly. They spoke of the dirty things they were doing to her or wanted to do later, and she came loudly to the sound of their voices whispering hotly against her ears.

The night went by, and they ended up fucking in multiple different positions, with her coming a grand total of five times. They finally came inside of her, filling her up in both holes before they retired back to the bed as come dripped down her legs. They stayed inside her as they cuddled close together, and she fell asleep to the soft sound of duel snores on either side of her.

She had never felt happier.

She awoke to the feeling of strong arms encircling her from behind, but when she blinked her eyes open, the right side of the bed was empty. Sitting up, she tried to ignore the alarm bells sounding in her mind as she looked blearily around the room, wondering if her professor was in the loo. As she scanned the low lit room, she saw a letter on the bedside table, addressed to her. Heart pounding, she extricated herself from his future self’s firm grip and padded across the floor, opening the letter. She paled as she read the words, not even noticing when tears began to fall down her cheeks. All she knew was that her heart was breaking.

If she had it to do over, she would not have come here last night. Perhaps then she would still have a chance for a future with the man she loved.

Miss Granger,

I cannot say I regret last night, for it was the most glorious night I’ve ever known, and it will most likely remain so until I perish from this earth. My actions however, were unacceptable. I behaved as a mindless beast, putting my own desires above what was best for you as a student under my care. For that as well as any pain I might have caused in doing so, I apologize. I yielded to the pleasures of the flesh, of which I’m sure were the driving force in motivating your own behavior (and without a doubt, my older self.) We have all received what we wanted out of this brief physical tango, and now that our baser urges have been satisfied, we must, moving forward, continue on separate paths. I will no longer allow myself to selfishly put my own interests ahead of yours. You deserve better than that. I strongly believe our professional relationship will not withstand our conduct this evening, and I would loathe to stand in the way of your future success. In light of that, I release you from your internship with myself and would like to put forward Professor Slughorn as a suitable replacement. While he has his faults, he will no doubt lead you into a bright career under his academic tutelage. I have included a letter of recommendation that you may give to him. I wish you all the best in your future endeavors and will always remember you fondly.

~ S Snape

Chapter Text

Three Months Later

Hermione watched the cauldron simmer, stirring in slow, counter clockwise motions as she waited for the potion to thicken. She was nearing the end of her apprenticeship with Professor Slughorn, and despite him not being her first choice as mentor, she had gradually come to the begrudging realization that he had a lot of knowledge and insight to offer her. She also now recognized that perhaps Snape had been right to force her into an academic relationship with someone else. She doubted she would have been able to concentrate on anything productive if he had been in the same vicinity as her. Not to mention how painful every day would have been if he persisted in treating her with cool indifference after their passionate night together. Her heart squeezed at the thought of him, so she resolutely pushed him out of her mind.

“That is looking marvelous, my dear. I would not be afraid to ingest it as it would surely help with my aching joints. You are turning into quite the potioneer, you know. Have you decided on which job offer you will accept?”

She smiled and her cheeks warmed. She was such a glutton for praise.

“Thank you, professor. No, I haven’t decided yet. They both have their pros and cons, I suppose. Though I’ve always liked the idea of living in a cottage by the sea somewhere off the coast of Ireland. Or in a cabin deep in a peaceful forest.”

“But that sounds so remote. If it were me, I’d go with the position in London. So many amazing opportunities at your fingertips. Think of all the connections you could make!”

She hummed non-committedly when there was a knock at the door, and a young, pale face peeked inside the laboratory. Hermione brightened immediately.

“Michael!” She glanced at the clock. “I’m so sorry, I’ll be finished in just a few minutes.”

Michael Corner walked over to her and bent low as he gallantly kissed her hand, his dark hair tickling her wrist. She bit her lip as she flushed at the romantic gesture.

“No worries, Hermione. I’ll just go sit in the corner and finish this chapter.”

Michael seemed so perfect. He was a Ravenclaw student about to graduate as well, and though they had never gotten to know each other that well over the years, a chance encounter in the library a couple weeks ago had led to a lengthy discussion on the rights of house elves that carried on well into the night. She had been pleasantly surprised by his intellect and humor and the fact that she found herself genuinely enjoying his company. Not to mention that he was attractive, in a lanky sort of way. Best of all, he was blessedly uncomplicated and seemed to be genuinely interested in her.

They had gone out several times, but they had yet to take the relationship to the next level. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to even kiss him yet, but she felt that this might be just what she needed to get a certain potion's master out of her heart and mind once and for all. Perhaps she would just take the initiative and kiss him over dinner this evening. She wasn’t sure why the idea made her stomach churn, but enough was enough. She would not pine a moment longer for what would never be.

Ten minutes later, they were walking up the staircase leading out of Slughorn’s potions classroom in the dungeon. Hermione felt Michael gently place his hand on the small of her back as they went, and she couldn’t help the smile that lit her features. How nice to be with someone so … nice.

The sound of footsteps ahead brought her eyes up and her smile froze as she found herself facing Professor Snape. Somehow he had managed to avoid her all of this time, and she had only caught sight of him during meals and twice through the door of his classroom. She stumbled, and Michael’s hand wrapped around her waist to steady her. She turned to him briefly, nodding her thanks, and when she turned back to her former professor, she was shocked at the cold, fierce expression on his face. Her heart immediately leapt in her throat, though a moment later she realized he was not looking at her. He was glowering at Michael.

Biting her lip as her nerves churned her stomach at the unexpected chance meeting, she felt desperate to ease the sudden thick tension surrounding the three of them.

“H-hello, professor. I hope you are well?”

He did not even acknowledge her, but took a couple slow steps down towards them, eyes glittering as they roved deliberately over Michael from the top of his black hair. Hermione was taken aback at his cold, almost hostile demeanor. She had feared seeing him because she couldn’t bear witnessing his indifference, but this … this was something else entirely. 

She looked over at Michael, and noticed a splash of color on his normally pale features, but other than that he boldly gazed back at Snape without showing any outward discomfort. She was surprised and proud at how he stood his ground, not letting Snape intimidate or rattle him. He nodded calmly at the older man, clearing his throat when Snape stepped down and was now directly one step above him. A wave of guilt rolled over Hermoine at putting Michael in this awkward situation, especially as she had not mentioned to him – or anyone – what had transpired between Snape and herself. He had no idea of their brief affair.

“Mr Corner, Miss Granger.”

His deep, languid voice drizzled over her like warm honey, causing her breath to hitch and her heart to stutter. Gods that voice did things to her. Naughty things.

Suddenly his dark eyes honed in on her own, and she stopped breathing as he smirked unkindly at her.

“Low and behold, the Gryffindor princess has a type. How … ordinary. Now, if you will excuse me.”

With that he was gone, and she stood there stunned by the obvious biting sarcasm, but she was also confused. What was he…

Once they could no longer hear the echoing steps of Snape, Michael let out a low whistle. “Well that was weird. Are you okay? He really shouldn’t have called you that. Not at all professional.”

Michael brought her out of her thoughts and she took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“It’s fine. I’m ... fine.”

Was she trying to convince Michael or herself? As she turned to him with a forced smile, all of a sudden Snape’s meaning struck her with the force of a whole team of Threstrals. She gasped before she could stop herself, causing his eyes to widen with alarmed concern.

The kind expression currently on his face did not match at all, but his shoulder length black hair, his pale face and dark eyes were reminiscent of …of…

Merlin’s beard, she was an idiot! Tears pricked her eyes and she felt horror creep up her spine. How could she not have realized? Not noticed? Was her unconscious that desperate that it was seeking out someone who had the same physical characteristics as her professor? The same sharp mind? She felt sick, felt as though her new, budding relationship was now doomed to failure. How unfair for Michael! He must simply be … a rebound.

His hands tentatively held her elbows while she silently panicked. Should she call off their date?

“Hermione?”

Her gaze met his, and the tears finally crested and fell down her cheeks. In the short time they had been together, she could tell he was starting to really care for her. They were so compatible, and if not for her damnable heart, he might one day make her the happiest witch. But, right now she needed to heal. Needed closure.

If he was willing to give her time, willing to wait for her to sort out her broken heart, maybe then they could begin something special between them. She could not continue now, knowing that she must have been subconsciously drawn to him because of the way he looked like someone else. She was so ashamed of herself.

“Michael, I’m so, so sorry. I … I don’t think I can see you anymore at present. I haven’t told you this before, and for that I’m sorry. But I’m still pining for someone else. Please forgive me … I like you a lot! But, I just need some time to sort out my feelings.”

Michael took a step back, shock radiating off his whole person. Her heart sank as he looked not unlike a kicked puppy.

“Oh, I see. Um. wow. Okay. I didn’t realize. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or push you–”

“You didn’t! Not remotely. I just need to heal.”

His hurt face then morphed into confusion.

“What brought this on? You were fine until–”

He stopped abruptly, looking horrified and then …  disgusted.

She immediately reached out to him, hoping she could make him understand, and he jerked back at her touch as though she had burned him.

“Please, say no more. I understand perfectly.”

With that he practically fled up the stairs and out of sight.

Hermione stood there stunned, embarrassment still coursing through her veins. Suddenly feeling exhausted from everything, she plopped down on the steps. She had royally screwed that up. Face in her hands, she mulled over the last several minutes, a sense of unreality enveloping her. She had been unprepared to face Snape so suddenly, and his behavior had been perplexing to say the least. What was his problem? She had left him alone since that fateful night, refraining from causing him any undue stress or discomfort. He had made it clear they should continue on separate paths, and she had respected his wish, though it had pained her deeply to do so.

Closing her eyes she thought back to the hours leading up to his future self’s departure, and the tears she had held back for so long, flowed freely. 

Three Months Earlier

“My darling, please, don’t cry. He, or rather I, am not worthy of it. I clearly don’t deserve you.” She continued her sobbing and he sighed deeply.

“Come here.”

Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her against his warm, bare chest, which only made her cry even harder. She buried her face in his neck, clutching to him desperately, as though doing so would stop the hands of time and keep him here.

Midnight was approaching on his last night to be with her, and she was devastated.

“I love you so, Severus. Oh how I wish I could leave with you. Go back to your time.”

“I know, I know.” He spoke in a whisper, stroking her hair. “I share your sentiment.” He smiled sadly and pulled her face up to his, peppering it with soft kisses before continuing. “How will I survive without your sweet soul by my side? But listen to me, my heart, there are so many other wizards out there, better men than I could ever hope to be. Do not wait for me to come around. Forget me if you can, for you will certainly be better for it.”

Eyes flashing, she pulled herself up to straddle him on the bed, taking his own face in her hands and pausing until she had his full attention.

“How could you even say that!? There is no one else like you, and I will carry your love, however briefly I was able to bask in it, for the rest of my life. I will never be the same, Severus. So don’t you dare tell me to forget, as if that were humanly possible!”

He looked up at her with eyes full of tenderness, his thumb caressing her cheek. Hermione thought she might die from the ache in her heart.

“Of course. My apologies. You are right as usual, for I myself will endlessly burn for you. I won’t speak of it again, Hermione. I am, however, deeply sorry for bringing you such pain. Better that I had left well enough alone.”

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat at his words.

“Do you … do you regret coming here then?”

His eyes narrowed and turned molten, giving off such heat as they captured her own in their penetrating gaze. It was all the warning she had before he grabbed her and flipped her around so that she was suddenly beneath him, her brain going fuzzy at the heady sensation of being surrounded by him, easily held down by his great weight. His large body enveloped her, and the heat of his skin seared her own bare flesh. She luxuriated in the full body to body contact, biting her lip as he settled down against her. Oh gods she could feel his hardness growing against her belly.

“I would do it again and again, if I could, witch. If only to have you just like this, even if all I could do is gaze into your eyes … or kiss you.”

He bent down to capture her lips in a searing kiss, and she moaned and rubbed against him, trying to urge him to do more than just kiss her. He broke away from her mouth to curse, before smirking down at her and slowly grinding his hips against her own. His cock was fully hard now, and the thick, weeping head split her labia as it rubbed insistently against her heated core. Her eyes widened at the intense pleasure, and her breaths began to come out in uneven pants as he kept it up, never taking his eyes off her face.

“Even though it will tear me apart to leave you, it is worth every moment of pain to have had you like this, pliant and willing. Mine.” The last word came out in a growl and Hermione moaned at the sound. “I could never regret coming here, though it pains me to see how much it has wounded you.” He smiled bitterly. “I am such a selfish man.”

Hermione tossed her head back and forth on the pillow, hardly able to focus on his words as he continued to rub against her bare pussy with increasing pressure. She was fast approaching release, but she desperately wanted to come with his cock buried deep inside her. Not like this.

“Please .. fuck me.”

He chuckled darkly, picking up her pace.

“Severus, please! I need you inside me – ahh!”

Just as an orgasm crashed over her body, he seated himself fully in one brutal thrust.

She opened her mouth to scream his name in pleasure.

Three Months Later

Snape stood in his personal bathroom, glaring at his reflection in the small mirror hanging above the sink. His eyes were bloodshot and he even saw a few new gray hairs at his temple. The black eye as well as the split lip his future self had given him the morning after he had left that damnable letter were long gone, though he almost wished he would return if only to give him another much deserved pounding. Almost.

He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned down against the sink, hair falling across his face as he willed the bile to go back into his stomach. Memories of his own face twisted in anger and pain as he had confronted him kept replaying in his mind along with the accusations that had been flung at him like flying daggers, the truth behind them lingering like the deadliest of poisons.

“You absolute bastard. YOU FUCKING COWARD. You’ve single handedly ruined the only chance of happiness we will ever be graced with, and I hope you realize it promptly and regret it every moment thereafter for the rest of your pathetic life. I’ve done everything I could to fix my own mistakes, and then you go and make new ones. How could you? After what she allowed us to do to her .... the amount of trust she had given us in those precious moments. HOW COULD YOU!?”

He had remained silent and motionless in the face of his future self’s passionate, violent display. Not until he had been knocked down, blood dripping down his face from the blows did his older self stop and walk away. When he reached the door, he had half turned and delivered the final, soul crushing blow in the gentlest tone of voice.

“I’m done. You hear me? I won’t encourage her to go after you anymore or to wait for your pathetic arse. In fact I will advise her not to. She deserves better.”

With that he had slammed the door, and he didn’t see his other self again for the remainder of his time here.

He was a wreck, and he only had himself to blame. The past three months had been pure torture. He had barely slept because whenever he closed his eyes, she was there. She haunted his dreams, but when he tried to bury himself in his work, his mind refused to focus and rebelliously returned to her time and time again. To her intelligent, sparkling brown eyes. To her slim yet curvy body, impossibly soft and splayed out beneath him like an offering. Her lovely smile. The gentle sound of her voice in his ear. Her inquisitive soul.

Familiar pain coursed through him. He had chosen to walk away. In the harsh light of morning, he had been convinced it was the right thing to do. She desired him apparently, though he found it hard to understand, but that didn’t mean she should be tethered to him for any length of time. She would find someone more worthy, have a wonderful life, and he would go back to his dungeon, where he belonged. The fact that she didn’t question him or attempt to reach out at all only cemented the rightness of his decision. She was most likely relieved to have dodged such a metaphorical curse, to be free of his company. He could never have made her happy, a fact he knew this down to the marrow of his bones.

But oh how he ached for her. Sleeping with her had clearly been a mistake, but he refused to regret it. It was glorious. So … pure … somehow. The physical expression of desire, of longing. It was all encompassing. However, she was not his in any way shape or form.

His face darkened as he thought back to a few minutes ago, seeing her on the steps with that boy.

He was the king of fools, and he was currently flagellating himself internally for his lack of control. It was inexcusable and beneath him. 

He thought he would be able to control himself if he saw her, though he had valiantly attempted to avoid her at all costs. The few glimpses he had had of her only sent him into a tailspin of pain and wishful thinking, but up until now he was able to mask it, at least while he was in public.

But when he saw her there on the steps, with that wretch's hand on the small of her back, then around her waist, something fierce and primitive rose up within him. It took every ounce of will power to refrain from shoving the git away from her and throwing her over his shoulder like some disgusting caveman. It was completely unacceptable. 

Even now adrenaline coursed through his veins, and a sharp crack from the porcelain sink he was viciously gripping brought him out of his dark reverie. Resisting the urge to destroy his entire bathroom, he let go and exited the room, taking off his robes as he went. 

He laid down on his bed and closed his eyes, taking measured, deep breaths in order to calm his racing heart and chaotic emotions.

Everything was fine. He was fine. He survived a goddamn war pretending to be in cahoots with a psycho maniac with only a body littered with scars to show for it. His heart had been untouched, at all times hidden far beneath the many occlumency walls and barriers he had erected not only for his own survival, but to keep his ridiculous emotions at bay, to avoid being known and in return, avoiding any pesky attachments that could only weaken him if they came to light. If he could survive that emotionally unscathed, this should be child’s play.

He didn’t need anyone, and he had gotten along just fine his whole life with the way things were. He was alone. He liked being alone, he reminded himself.

But then she had swooped in like some fairytale heroine and saved his life from the brink of death, causing a tailspin of events that led to him pining for her alone in his room as though he were yet a sniveling adolescent with no control of his hormones.

And for what, he thought bitterly. To know once more the exquisite torture of unrequited love? 

His breath hitched, realizing what he had just admitted to himself. Panic rose within him, and he went back to his breathing exercises as he gripped the bed sheets until they tore.

Love.

It alarmed him that the word had even crossed his mind. He didn’t, couldn’t love her, could he? He was obviously confusing lust with affection, admiration for something far more tender. He doubted he was even capable of feeling anything more than … casual fondness.

One night of passion was hardly enough to spark anything deeper.

He groaned as visions of her pale skin floated behind his closed eyes, and he felt his cock twitch with interest.

With a herculean show of willpower, he had managed to resist the urge to touch himself with thoughts of her throughout these last few months, but he had lost count how many times he had woken with her name on his lips as hot seed splashed across his sheets. He wondered, not for the first time, if this was his life now, this endless cycle of resisting her seductive pull on his entire being only for his body and mind to rebel against him while unconscious.

As he reached down and gripped himself through his pants, moaning at how good it felt to give in, just a bit, the wards surrounding his chambers alerted him to someone at the door.

As a loud knock reverberated through his rooms, his eyes went wide as he sensed through his magic who was at the door.

_____________________________________

Hermione’s arse was going numb from sitting on the unforgivingly cold stone steps. She felt more lost than she had in a long time, a heaviness settling in on her that weighed her soul down to the point that she just wanted to curl up in a fetal position and sleep for a decade. It seemed she was making a mess of everything, despite her efforts to change her future for the better … and despite her attempts to walk away from a man who did not love her nor want her in his life. She was valiantly trying not to squander the rare gift Snape’s future self had given her – a glimpse at a possible future gone wrong and a chance to make a fresh beginning for herself.

She closed her eyes and once more forced her mind to focus on how grateful she was to have been given a second chance. While she had no regrets over the intimacy she shared with future Severus – she would carry the precious memory of his brief visit with her to the grave – however she did regret her decision to lure her professor into their bed along for the ride. It had been too soon, his feelings not yet having taken root. Instead of fanning his heart into flames for her, their night of passion had been like a cold bucket of ice dumped on his heart, extinguishing the small flame that had flickered for her. How selfish was she that she longed for yet another do over? Most never had such an opportunity.

Unfortunately, walking away from something that was not meant to be was one of the hardest, most painful things she had ever done. It was so painful in fact, that in the past few months she had begun to dissociate from the whole fiasco, not allowing herself to process or even fully experience the deep wound she carried after his letter. She had too much else to deal with right now, the biggest priority being finding a job and a career path that felt right for her. She didn’t have time for matters of the heart, especially not ones that were a complete dumpster fire.

She had thought herself mature as well as practical by not letting her heart dictate her actions. How brave she had felt, going on with her life without crawling back to him, begging him to not shut her out forever. It had all apparently been a farce, as the moment she was faced with Severus, her façade of strength had crumbled in the face of his cold reaction to her. And where did that even come from? What did he want from her? It had torn her apart not to immediately go to him and try to get some answers or to convince him to change his mind.

Wasn’t that what he wanted? His recent behavior was an insult on top of injury and entirely undeserved. It was as though he no longer saw her as worthy of respect, let alone common courtesy.

Surely, he was not one of those pigheaded, backward thinking wizards who based a witch’s worth on how sexually pure they were. Such archaic, sexist notions were beneath him, right? There was no way he despised her now merely because she had slept with him. After everything.

After. Everything.

Hermione could feel her anger rising, could sense her blood begin to boil beneath her skin at the notion, however unlikely, she reminded herself. She prided herself on not being the kind of person who jumped to conclusions, who did not judge anything or anyone without first knowing the full picture. But now that the idea had taken hold, it was becoming like a virus, spreading through her mind and causing her to see the events of the last few months in a whole new, devastating light.

This would explain why he had avoided her this whole time, not even deigning to allow his eyes to touch her with a mere glance.

This explained why he no longer wanted to work with her on a professional level, dumping her onto someone else.

This would explain the cold sneer and jibes he had given freely just now, when he had seen her with another man.

And that nasty comment about her having a type, was he insinuating that she was an easy lay if one possessed certain physical qualities?

She knew she was spiraling emotionally and mentally, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop. Her nerves were frayed and she could feel so many painful emotions churning within her that she had been ignoring and pushing out of her mind this whole time. Now, they were bubbling towards the surface, demanding her full attention. This must have been how Vesuvius felt the day before it erupted, and before she comprehended what she was doing, she was on her feet, marching as though to battle directly towards Snape’s private quarters.

She was beyond angry, she was outraged. Mindlessly furious. Oh, she would get her closure, if she had to squeeze it drop by drop out of his arrogant, irrational, confounding arse! She would not leave until he gave her some answers, until he gave an account for his behavior. She deserved a direct explanation. If he was disgusted with her now, if he truly had lost all respect for her, he could at least have the decency to look her in the eye and tell her that to her face. He owed her that much at least.

Only then would she feel free to walk away.

For good.

She knocked loudly and insistently on his door before she could lose her nerve, fingers balled into fists as she glared at the door. And then…

Nothing.

She knocked again, louder. She knew he was in there – had seen him walk this way with her own two eyes not thirty minutes earlier. Was he … ignoring her? She shouldn’t be surprised, really. Well, he had a surprise coming if he thought she would give up easily. She would bang all night long if necessary.

Just as she raised her fist to knock again, the door swung open, and Snape stood tall before her, his face unreadable. She opened her mouth to immediately begin her angry tirade of questions, when the state of his appearance fully registered to her brain. Instead she stood speechless, eyes squinting as they quickly roved over his whole person in growing alarm.

He was missing his outer robes and was out of breath for no reason she could comprehend. Also, he was …. Disheveled. Her eyes quickly darted up to his and found them dilated and … was that a hint of desire?

Holy Merlin’s balls … was she interrupting something? Was he with someone else? Had they been fucking?

Her face turned white and she glanced behind him, grateful that she couldn’t immediately see anyone there, but now she felt uncertain, thrown off. 

It was then that her eyes were drawn to the impressive bulge in his trousers, and suddenly it was not just a wild suspicion but an irrefutable fact.

“Are you quite finished?”

“W-what?”

Her eyes flew back up to his own, and she thought she might die. He had caught her looking down there. Oh this was all a mess, and now all she wanted, desperately so, was to flee this horrible awkwardness. She took a step back, and then another, yet unable to say anything remotely beneficial.

“You’re gaping at me as though I were a spectre. Were you expecting someone else to open the door? Mr Corner, perchance?”

Despite her humiliation at interrupting him in the middle of intercourse with some unknown person, she felt that familiar anger bubble up once more, and it loosened her tongue.

“How dare you?” She approached him once more until their chests almost touched, boldly staring up into his obsidian, glittering eyes.

His eyebrow rose tauntingly at her, though she noticed his Adams apple contract as though he were struggling to swallow. She also distantly became aware that he had beads of sweat forming on his brow and that he seemed to be holding his breath, but she couldn’t be bothered to consider any of those small details now. Her fury was back in full force.

“You behave as though seeing me with anyone else is some sort of crime, as though it makes me a … a what? A slut? While apparently it’s fine and dandy for you to fuck whoever you want! Not that I care, mind you. Have at it, with my full blessing.”

She took a deep breath, her voice going low. “I would have thought such a disgusting double standard was beneath you, but I was obviously mistaken. I came here to get closure. To ask you for an explanation as to why you’ve treated me like the plague these last few months. After all we’ve –” Her voice broke and she had to stop and bite back the tears for a moment before continuing. “If you no longer respect me, I wanted to hear it from your lips directly, but suddenly I find I don’t care. You could think I was the biggest imbecile you’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t blink an eye. Your opinion is worthless to me because I no longer respect you! Have a nice life, professor.”

She whirled on her feet and made a hasty retreat, as tears of anger and incredible sadness flowed down her face at the finality of it all.

This was goodbye.

She didn’t have much time left at Hogwarts, but she would spend the remainder of it avoiding him just as much as he had been avoiding her. The avoidance extravaganza now had a party of two.

She had just reached the stairs when she thought she heard footsteps close behind her, and alarmed, she quickened her steps, almost running now.

Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted bodily into the air and hoisted over Snape’s shoulder as he turned and swiftly strode back to his rooms. She squealed in shock at suddenly being suspended into the air, and after sputtering a few choice curses, began to hit his back and attempt to wiggle out of his hold.

“What are you doing?! Put me down this instant! I am not a sack of potatoes, you big oaf!”

Her protests went unanswered as he continued on despite her best efforts. The disparity between their physical strength was embarrassingly apparent, and she finally stilled, though she had half a mind to hex him as soon as he put her down. He walked her into his private study, shutting the door behind him with his foot. The door slammed shut with a resounding thud, his wards going back into place and sealing them in. This caused her heart to race as he unceremoniously dumped her into a chair near the hearth. She watched him silently with wide, furious eyes as he went about the room, stoking the fire and bringing them tea. The hell? What was he thinking? She glanced around the room nervously, hardly wanting to confront whatever witch (or she supposed, wizard) he had been shagging. That was none of her business, and oh gods, she should never have come here. She should have just walked away. Now she was going to have to pretend to be completely unaffected by his cold indifference, maybe even have to socialize with his new fuck buddy.

A new wave of horror swept through her at the idea, and she stiffened in her seat, holding her head high with a renewed attempt to appear unaffected by all of this.

He served them tea and sat down in the chair next to her, his dark eyes penetrating her with an expression that bordered on unhinged, wild in a way she had never seen before. She swallowed, biting her lip, and her breath caught in her throat as she saw how his eyes darted down with unwavering focus on her lips for several moments before they slowly roved over her entire body. By the time they flicked back up to her own eyes, she was trembling at the almost physical intimacy of it. Her skin was on fire and she was quickly losing her resolve to be indifferent. He still held so much power over her, his sharp perusal was like a physical caress, and her body was responding to it embarrassingly quickly.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, desperately trying to gain back control of her body as well as this ridiculous situation. Eyes still closed, she finally spoke.

“What is wrong with you?”

He sighed heavily. “We hardly have time to go over such a lengthy subject, Miss Granger. Could you be more specific?”

Her eyes shot open as she glared bloody murder at him, mouth open in disbelief that he needed any clarification.

"Why did you forcibly carry me back here?! For starters. I have nothing further to say to you. Also, don’t you ever just pick me up like that again. You don’t have to respect or even like me, but you will not touch me without my consent. Are we clear?” 

To his credit, he looked taken aback at her words, his eyes lowering in what appeared to be contrition. 

“It won’t happen again, you have my word. And you are free to leave at any time.” He cleared his throat and ran a hand distractedly through his hair.

“You just … what you said. It shocked me. I had to address your ridiculous accusations – yes, ridiculous –”

He held up a hand to stop her as she was about to interrupt. “And well, I assumed I would be unable to convince you to return and have a rational conversation with me. I … reacted poorly, I see that now. But you also caught me at a bad time.”

“Clearly.” The word sounded much more bitter than she intended and she winced.

Snape huffed in what sounded like exasperation. 

“As you can see, we are alone here. But by all means, search my quarters if that is what it takes to soothe your ruffled feathers so we can finally address your concerns. Like civilized people."

She ignored that last gibe, too focused on the fact that he apparently hadn't been fucking someone else.

“Alone? But then why ….” Her voice trailed off as realization crashed over her, and suddenly she wanted the floor to swallow her up. He had been alone, pleasuring himself. A blush quickly spread across her cheeks and down her neck as she valiantly tried not to glance back down to see if he was still … aroused.

Snape smirked, making her scowl at him as she crossed her arms petulantly to mask how embarrassed she was.

“Have you never … touched yourself, Miss Granger?"

She sputtered in indignation before he continued with faint amusement.

"How odd that it took someone as brilliant as you this long to come to the most obvious deduction. Though I find it intrusive on my privacy, I am pleased we are at least on the same page as far as my … sexual pursuits are concerned.”

Several moments passed, and Hermione wondered if she would have to break the silence when he spoke again, this time with a quiet, uncertain voice, eyes suddenly avoiding hers.

“There has never been anyone but you.”

Heart now in her throat, Hermione was speechless. This was the most open he had been with her since that fateful night that now seemed a lifetime ago. His sudden vulnerability took the wind out of her sails, and all the anger melted away, leaving nothing but the pain that had been festering beneath it all.

Voice trembling, she asked him her most burning question.

“Why?”

His eyes hesitatingly found hers again, his expression utterly devastated.

“I won’t insult you further by asking what you mean. I felt it was for the best that we go our separate ways."

Hermione sighed heavily.

“Okay, let's put that aside for a moment, as whatever your reasons, I’m sure they are good. What I don’t understand is why you have kept me at arms length all this time. You won’t even look at me! And earlier on the stairs–”

He flinched and busied himself with his tea, looking for all the world like a child who had been caught stealing a biscuit before dinner.

He said nothing and slowly sipped his tea, and Hermione felt herself becoming increasingly exasperated.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself! Because as far as it looks from my end, you no longer have any positive regard for me … no respect whatsoever to treat me so callously–”

“No. That … you could not be more wrong in that assumption.”

“Okay, then? What was that?”

“I’ve never felt that before in my life. I do not have much experience in these matters.”

“What matters?”

“Jealousy.”

Hermione was dazed into silence, and her mind raced with so many questions. Jealousy? What could he possibly be jealous about? He was the one who had pushed her away! If not for that, they could be spending this evening in an entirely different manner. She could be curled up in his lap as they read a text together, or taking a walk throughout the grounds. She could have been grading papers for him while he massaged her feet. Or … tangled in his bedsheets, aching and spent. Shite, the last three months could have been the best of her life, instead of the painful experience it had become.

“But … why? I could have been yours, Severus. I made it plain how I felt. It was so much more than sex for me.”

“I know I’m unworthy of you.”

His voice was thick, his expression pained. “I wanted to do something … selfless, for a change. I suspected maybe it was primarily physical for you. Maybe you have a thing for greasy, cantankerous teachers?”

Hermione snorted, then reached out and took his hand, waiting for him to continue. He looked down at their joined hands with a look a startled reverence before continuing.

“I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. Out of my heart. Even telling you this is a mistake, I am sure. I can’t encourage you to … to consider me again. I’ve tried to let you go, but seeing you with someone else. Something inside of me shattered, and I reacted like an ignorant brute. I was overcome with jealousy, and I’m so sorry, Hermione.”

Tears glistened in his eyes, and on impulse, Hermione got up, took his tea away, and sat in his lap. She arranged herself so they would both be comfortable and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her as she slowly left affectionate kisses on his brow, then his cheeks, before leaving a chaste kiss upon his lips as her hands cupped his face. After, she remained close to him, their warm breaths mingling between them as his eyes took her in with a look of wonder.

“How could you even want to kiss me, after how I’ve behaved towards you?”

Absently tracing her finger on his full lips, she met his eyes, her own now also shining with emotion.

“This is all I ever wanted. You are all I want. Just as you are. I’m not expecting some Don Juan or a picture perfect person. I’ve known you a long time, remember? I’ve seen how grumpy you are, how impossibly arrogant at times, when it comes to your area of expertise. But I also know how loyal you are, even in the face of death. How committed to what you know is right. You are selfless. You have done nothing but give and give and give your whole life. And now, with the war behind us, why don’t you allow yourself to have something good for a change? Something potentially wonderful. You can be so hard on yourself, but I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

“I could never make you happy.”

“How could you possibly know that? Listen, I’m not saying it will be easy. You frustrate me to no end sometimes! And we both know how stubborn I can be. We will both have to work on communicating with each other, but I am willing to try … because I believe it is worth it. You are worth it, Severus.”

His face crumpled a bit at her words, and he gaped at her as though he were seeing her for the first time, little flashes of fear crossing his eyes as he apparently was considering, for the first time, trying to make a go of it with her.

“You are … sure? I would understand if–”

“Yes! More than anything. Severus Snape, would you do me the honor of dating me? And we shall see where it leads us?”

She held her breath as he searched her eyes, most likely trying to find any cracks in her resolve, any hesitancy or second guessing. He must not have found any, because she could almost see the moment the dark clouds began to lift from his countenance as a slow, gentle smile lit up his face. She stared at him, amazed at how transforming something as simple as a smile had on his whole person.

“Well, I can hardly refuse you anything you truly want, Miss Granger. My answer is yes, with all my heart.”

She laughed with pure joy and held him close to her as tightly as she could, his breath tickling her neck when he tried to speak, his words, muffled.

“But I fear I will never want to let you go. I will want to keep you.”

She squeezed impossibly harder in response, and he grunted, enveloping his arms around her in return.

“I will hold you to that, Severus.” She whispered into his ear. “For as long as I have breath.”