"Granger!"

There were days that Hermione measured by the volume and duration of her superior's bellows down the hall. Today was an 8.

"He's in fine form today," Sally-Anne Perks muttered as Hermione passed her in the hall.

She gave a short nod to show that she'd heard and straightened her shoulders before she entered her superior's office.

One might assume that dealing with Salazar Slytherin and helping him acclimate to the current century was more than enough for any one person, but one must also account for the Ministry of Magic, who appear to despise logic and reason with a deep, abiding passion. Hermione was not surprised when her superior expected her to fulfill all of her regular duties and responsibilities on top of trying to help Salazar Slytherin. With a sigh, she accepted the towering pile of folders and carried them back to her office.

"Granger, go home." Terry Boot was leaning against her door frame frowning at her. "It's past nine. Everyone's gone home but us."

Hermione looked up blearily and blinked at Boot in confusion. "Past nine? It can't be; I've only just come back from lunch."

"That was eight hours ago, Granger," Boot countered.

Hermione rubbed at her eyes and stretched in her seat. The aching muscles in her neck and back protested. "I suppose I should go," she muttered. She scowled at the looming paperwork. "That will all still be there tomorrow."

"Truer words," Boot muttered in agreement. He stood up and gave Hermione a little salute. "See you tomorrow, Granger."

Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "You too, Boot."

A quick stop at the market and Hermione grabbed a few things for dinner. She Apparated back to her house, and managed to get the door open despite the fact that her hands were full.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, WOMAN?"

For one confused moment, Hermione thought that it was Harry because no one else she knew bellowed quite like that, although Harry had never bellowed at her in Old English. Then she turned toward the voice and froze. Salazar Slytherin was in her living room. To her eternal embarrassment, she had forgotten about him. She had so much to do, and Nithercott had been in such a tizzy, that she had completely dismissed the fact that Salazar Slytherin had been left alone all day in her house.

Bulging arms were crossed over a thickly muscled chest. Furious green-gold eyes were glaring at her. Anger was evident in every rigid line of Salazar Slytherin's imposing frame. He stood with his feet planted as though he were bracing himself for battle. Hermione managed to tear her eyes away from his broad shoulders and tried to focus on his questions. She swallowed hard and shook her head. Focus, Granger.

"I… was at work," she managed to get out, and she hurried to the kitchen so that he wouldn't see the brilliant red blush she could feel rising to her neck and face.

"AT WORK?" Salazar bellowed from the living room and then stomped after her into the kitchen. "I have been alone all day," he complained loudly as he followed her. "Are you not meant to help me learn the ways of this time? How am I supposed to take part in society if I am to be kept locked up in your home all day?"

Hermione set down her packages and then turned to frown up at him. "How should I know?" She began to put things away and gestured with a bag of carrots. "Apparently, they expect me to fulfill all my regular duties and obligations while at the same time I am to teach you everything you need to know to get along in this century." She made a disparaging sound in the back of her throat. "There are only so many hours in a day. It isn't as though I've got a Time Turner at my disposal."

His scowl only grew deeper. "You will take me with you to this work," Salazar commanded imperiously. "I will help you complete your tasks and then you will help me."

"It's not that simple," she protested. The thought of being with Salazar all day, every day, made her knees slightly weak. She tried valiantly to push those thoughts away and focus on the matter at hand. The carrots waved wildly in an expression of her frustration. "You… you can't even speak English."

"Teach me," he demanded. He pointed to the carrots. "What call you those?"

"Carrots," she enunciated clearly and distinctly.

"Carrots," he repeated with a frown of concentration.

They put away the rest of the groceries like that; Hermione would say the name of the item and Salazar would repeat it carefully. Then as Hermione began to prepare dinner for the two of them, she told him the name of each ingredient. Salazar was an eager, industrious pupil. Once he began to learn, it was as though he didn't want to stop. He grew frustrated when Hermione begged off to bed.

"Please," she pled with him. "Let me just get a few hours of sleep, and then we can do this before breakfast as well."

"Very well," Salazar grumbled.

/\/\/\/\

"What is that?" Salazar's imperious voice rang out in Hermione's small office.

She looked up from her paperwork in surprise. "What are you doing here?" She paused and frowned up at him. "How did you get here?"

"Sorry, Hermione." Harry poked his head into her office. "He found your mirror and he wouldn't stop pestering me until I brought him to you."

Hermione's brow crinkled in confusion. "But… you don't speak Old English."

"I didn't have to," Harry retorted. "He just kept saying 'Take me to Hermione Granger now' over and over."

Hermione sighed and put her head in her hands. She had taught him the phrase just in case he ever got lost. She had never expected that he would use it this way. Then again, she supposed that she should have done. He was the original Slytherin.

"What is that?" Salazar repeated impatiently.

"That is the work I have to complete before I can come home," Hermione explained. She turned to Harry. "What on earth am I supposed to do with him?"

"I don't know." Harry threw his hands in the air. "All I know is that he was driving me crazy and I have a group of Auror trainees who are waiting rather impatiently for my return."

"That's fine, Harry, thank you for… taking care of him," Hermione sighed. She leaned forward and kissed him absently on the cheek. "Tell Ginny I'll Floo Call her this weekend."

Hermione turned to look at Salazar who was scowling at the huge stack of paperwork on her desk. Suddenly the pile burst into flames. Hermione shrieked and cast an Aguamenti. The flames sputtered and then shot higher. Hermione gave a cry of surprise.

"What the hell are you doing?" Hermione leaped forward and tried batting at the flames for all the good it did her. In the span of a few minutes her mountain of paperwork was reduced to a pile of ash.

"There," Salazar declared with a smug smirk. "Now you can teach me."

"Are you mad?" Hermione shrieked. "You can't set my paperwork on fire! I can't drop everything to wait on you hand and foot, you—you Slytherin bastard!"

"I am not a bastard," Salazar pointed out mildly. "My mother and father were married."

"Am I interrupting?"

The silky drawl made Hermione's spine straighten automatically and she turned with a sense of dread to face Blaise Zabini, who was eyeing her with cool curiosity.

"Who is this wizard?" Salazar demanded arrogantly in Old English.

Hermione suppressed the urge to tug on her hair. "This is Blaise Zabini," she bit out between clenched teeth enunciating clearly in English. "Mr. Zabini, I'm sure you know of Salazar Slytherin."

Blaise bowed gracefully. "It is my honour."

Salazar eyed Blaise Zabini suspiciously. "Will you be kissing this wizard, too?" He demanded in Old English.

Hermione flushed and glared at him. "Of course not," she snapped back in the same language.

"Good," Salazar growled in English.

Hermione threw her hands up in the air. "For Merlin's sake!"

"Could I be of assistance?" Blaise practically purred.

Hermione glared at him. "In what way, Mr. Zabini?"

"Perhaps I could assist the Founder?" He suggested. He turned and bowed again to Salazar.

"What does this wizard want?" Salazar asked with another heavy frown.

"To curry favour," Hermione muttered at him in Old English. "He's a pureblood and he was Sorted into your house," she explained.

"You do not like him." Salazar frowned at the wizard in front of him. He appeared to be well-dressed and seemed to have a polished air about him. He reminded Salazar of the courtiers at Harald's court. Hermione had said that the wizard wished to curry Salazar's favour. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Go away," he said slowly and carefully in English.

Hermione muffled a whimper. "Salazar, Mr. Zabini is an important wizard," she hissed at him in Old English. "His family is very influential in the Ministry. He could be useful to you."

"Miss Granger is correct," Blaise agreed in Old English. "I could be very useful to you, my lord."

Hermione turned to stare at Zabini with wide eyes. He smirked back at her.

"How," Hermione began and then faltered.

Zabini's smirk grew. "That would be telling," he said in English. He turned back to Salazar and switched back to Old English. "It would be my privilege to aid you in any way, my lord."

Salazar scowled at him. "Go away," he repeated in a deep, bass rumble.

Zabini's gaze flicked to Hermione and he gave Salazar a small nod. "As you wish, my lord. Do keep me in mind should you need… assistance."

Salazar's eyes widened slightly and his scowl softened. He nodded back at Zabini. "I will." Then he turned back to Hermione who was eyeing him warily.

"I should have known," she muttered.

"Known what?" Salazar asked.

"Typical," she huffed. She poked him in the chest. "You can't just do whatever you want, you know. There are rules—laws."

"I know," Salazar growled. He snatched at her hand, holding it fast in his. He leaned forward until he could see the flecks of gold in her eyes. "You are supposed to be teaching me all of them. Instead you sit in here, hiding from me, and doing paperwork," he sneered the unfamiliar word.

"Well, I can't do that now since you destroyed it," she snapped at him. She tried breathing in and out through her nose to calm herself.

"Good." Salazar gave her a smug look. "Now you can help me as you are supposed to do."

Hermione glared at Salazar. "It isn't that simple!"

"Granger!" Nithercott bellowed.

Hermione flinched and turned to level a fulminating glare at Salazar. "You are coming with me," she snapped. "You can explain to my boss what has happened to all of my paperwork."

Salazar narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips for a moment before he nodded. "Yes," he decided.

He marched down the hall toward the source of the bellowing with Hermione hurrying after him protesting every step of the way. He walked into the office without knocking or being announced. Hermione closed her eyes and whispered a prayer to whatever deity might be listening before she slipped into the office after him.

"See here, who are you?" Nithercott blustered. He glowered at Salazar and then turned to glower at Hermione. "I called for you, Granger, not your latest boy toy."

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose. "Mr. Nithercott, may I introduce Salazar Slytherin?" She asked as calmly as she could.

Mr. Nithercott's face turned pale and then flushed darkly. "Slytherin?" He echoed faintly.

"Minister Shacklebolt sent you an inter-departmental memo about it," Hermione prompted.

Nithercott began to shuffle papers on his desk frantically before pulling out a creased purple sheet. He frowned at the memo and then looked up at Hermione.

"It says here that you're to rehabilitate Salazar Slytherin." Mr. Nithercott tsked under his breath, and then glared at Hermione. "Two weeks," he snapped.

"What?" Hermione blinked at him.

"That's all I can spare you for. Two weeks should be long enough to teach him about the Statute of Secrecy," Mr. Nithercott told her.

Hermione's mouth opened and closed several times.

"What is the matter?" Salazar demanded impatiently.

Hermione blinked and turned to look up at Salazar. "He's given me two weeks off to help you," she whispered slowly as though she hardly dared to believe it were true.

Salazar smirked at her.

"Not one word," she hissed at him as she passed by him.

/\/\/\/\

"Now, remember what we talked about," Hermione reminded Salazar.

"I must speak quietly," Salazar recited dutifully. He leveled a dark scowl in her direction.

"Now, I already have a membership to this library, so if you find any books you would like to read at length we can see if it's possible to check them out. Some of the older, rarer books we will not be allowed to remove from the library," Hermione lectured as they strode toward the building.

Salazar stopped and Hermione turned to see him staring at her with wide eyes.

"Can you say that again?" He asked.

"If there are books that you want to dwell on, I can check them out of the library for you," Hermione explained. "The only ones we will not be able to take home are the older, rarer books and some of the reference tools."

"You can remove books from the library and take them home?" Salazar asked with wonder in his voice.

"Yes, of course," Hermione replied. She paused and peered closely at Salazar. "Why?"

"And this library... Muggles can access it?" Salazar pressed.

Hermione frowned up at him. "Yes they can. It is a Muggle public library."

The library was a revelation for Salazar. That so many books could be located in just one place, and the knowledge that there were a number of libraries located all over what Hermione called 'the United Kingdom'. He watched the witch flit from bookshelf to bookshelf navigating them with ease and skill. She seemed to know where each book might be found, and she tried to tempt him with a variety of them. She had found a reproduction of something she called the Exeter Book, and he was pleased to be able to read the words therein.

Privately, Salazar had begun to feel daunted by this new world. These Muggles had so much knowledge at their fingertips, and they were so well-educated, that he began to worry about how he might find a place in this time. Hermione had snorted at him and told him that he could rest on his reputation, but he didn't want to do that. Salazar had always been a hard worker, a wizard who studied diligently and used his knowledge at the right place and time for the greatest effect. Yes, he had been accorded respect, but he had earned that respect. None of these witches or wizards had ever drunk one of his brews, or used one of his charms or cantrips. They didn't know him at all.

After the day spent in the public library, Salazar was quiet and withdrawn. It took the witch moving into his personal space and frowning up at him with worry in her eyes to snap him out of his mood.

"Salazar, are you well?" She asked him.

"Not really," he admitted. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "You say that the Muggleborn witches and wizards are treated poorly, and much of it is based on what I said a thousand years ago?"

Hermione nodded.

"But things have changed since then," Salazar protested. "The Muggle children are all taught to read and write as wee babes. They are so much more prepared for Hogwarts than they were when I taught there."

"True," Hermione agreed. "But they are woefully ignorant of wizarding culture and its customs and mores. There is a culture shock when one attends Hogwarts because it is very different from this world."

"It is different," Salazar allowed, "but it is not lesser or inferior."

A smile flitted across her lips, but it did not reach her eyes, which were filled with a tangle of emotions that Salazar could not quite decipher.

"What next?" Hermione asked with a brittle cheerfulness that did not fool Salazar.

"I think that I must learn your English," Salazar decided.

Hermione's brows drew together. "I've been teaching you modern English," she pointed out.

Salazar nodded. "You have, but I must learn faster so that I can read all of these books. Is there a spell that can aid me?"

"I'm sure there is," Hermione murmured almost to herself. She nibbled on her lower lip and her eyes grew thoughtful. "Perhaps in Harry's library."

"Harry? The wizard that you are always kissing? We do not need to go there," Salazar decided.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "I kiss him on the cheek. You make it sound as though I'm mauling him or something."

Salazar grunted noncommittally. He could not explain the feeling that gnawed his innards whenever Hermione stood on her tiptoes to brush her lips against Harry's cheek. He only knew that he did not like it.

"Besides, Harry is at work. Ginny will be the only one at home at the moment," Hermione explained. "Come along." She tugged at his hand until he followed her reluctantly.

The dwelling of the much-kissed wizard Harry was in Muggle London. It was a strange looking place that Hermione explained was called a townhome. She introduced him to a pretty, red-haired witch who was bouncing a baby on one hip who had the same haphazard hair as the wizard Harry.

"This is Ginny, and that is young James," Hermione explained carefully. "They are Harry's wife and son."

Salazar stared at them until Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. "What?" He snapped.

Hermione glared at him and then looked at Ginny and James. He bowed stiffly, and then he turned to glare at Hermione.

"If Harry is married, why are you always kissing him? Are you his leman?" He demanded while Hermione pushed him down a narrow hall.

"His what? That had better not mean what I think it means," Hermione growled at him

"It means a woman that a man keeps for bedsport," Salazar explained.

"Oh!" Hermione muffled a shriek of rage and jerked him around to glare up at him furiously. "Let me tell you something," she hissed at him. "Harry is my brother. He's a kindred spirit. I love him, sure, but I am not his leman." Then she drew herself up stiffly and leveled a chilling glare at him. "And in this time, you could just as easily be the leman as I could."

Salazar sputtered for a few moments to cover his amusement—did Hermione not know that rich widows often kept handsome, male slaves as playthings? He coughed to clear his throat, and then he followed after Hermione docilely. This Harry was her brother. A smug smile stretched his lips and stayed there the entire day that they spent combing through books looking for a translation spell to help him learn this new, modern English.

Despite his best efforts, Salazar could not keep his mind off of the witch that sat across from him. His eyes were fixed on her face to catch every time she crinkled her nose or nibbled on her lower lip when she was deep in thought. The way the light in the library played off of her great mass of curls, picking out dark honey and amber strands among the rich brown of her hair. Several times she had caught him watching her and a pink blush stained her cheeks.

"Stop it," she whispered at him glaring at him across the table.

He widened his eyes in an attempt to appear as innocent as possible. "Stop what?" He whispered back.

"Looking at me," she hissed as quietly as she could.

One dark brow rose, almost of its own volition, and he made a show of averting his eyes. "This will make it difficult to speak to you in public," he drawled. "Strangers will assume I speak to them."

"Oh!" Hermione glared at him her cinnamon brown eyes spitting fire. "You know what I mean!"

"I'm afraid that I do not," he countered. "Explain it to me."

Power gathered around Hermione, crackling about her in a provocative display of her magic. Salazar could feel his own magic reacting to hers. Power filled him and his magic flexed in a subtle challenge to the witch. She stared at him in surprise.

"What's happening?" She whispered.

"Your magic is sympathetic to mine," he pointed out.

"Well, knock it off. We have researching to do," Hermione told him with a frown.

Salazar shrugged and pulled his magic back. "As you will."

Only the turning of pages and the scratch of quill on parchment could be heard. Salazar tried to concentrate on the task before him—finding a spell so that he could truly become a part of this world was becoming more important with each day. He could not help it if his thoughts kept straying to the witch who sat across from him. There was something about her that pulled at him.

The loud snap of a book being closed quickly drew his attention. A look of frustrated irritation flickered in Hermione's eyes and then she sighed.

"That's enough for today," she told him with a tired smile.

He blinked at her in surprise. "But we've only just begun," he protested.

She grinned at him and shook her head. "No, it's past nine. Ginny's been zinging me in the shoulder for about a half an hour now. She thinks we need to go eat and then get some sleep."

"I do," the redhead called from another room. "You can come back tomorrow, Hermione, you know that."

"I know," Hermione called back. She turned and gave Salazar a look of determination. "Two weeks. We have two weeks to find the answer."

"We will find it," Salazar swore to her. We must.

/\/\/\/\

The first week was frustrating in more ways than one. In the mornings, Hermione would take Salazar to different locations either in the Muggle world or the wizarding world. His progression with modern English was slow and laborious, but he was making headway. Even if they didn't find a spell, Salazar would most likely be proficient in modern English within a year or so.

In the afternoon, they would always go to study at Grimmauld Place. The library had an extensive collection of Old English spells and journals, which Hermione had used when she had studied Old English at university. Salazar and she combed through the volumes carefully, looking for information that might ease his transition.

It was proving difficult to be around Salazar without touching him; a million times a day she found herself pulling her hand back from almost touching the wizard.

He had said that their magic was sympathetic, and Hermione had looked that up at the earliest opportunity. What she had found made her blush hotly and slam the book closed. Apparently it meant that they were... compatible in a variety of ways.

Usually magic users with sympathetic magic were drawn to one another, which might explain her compelling need to touch him.

But she was Hermione Granger for Merlin's sake! She wasn't going to swoon over the first wizard to quirk a brow and smirk at her. At least... that's what she kept telling herself.

/\/\/\/\

"This is a dragon reserve," Hermione explained in an undertone as they approached the ranger's station.

"Is this work?" Salazar demanded. "You have two weeks' holiday. You are supposed to be spending that time helping me," he protested.

"This is not work," Hermione retorted. "This is... well, it's private."

"Private?" Salazar repeated in a low growl. "What does that mean?"

Hermione sighed. "In your time, dragons roamed everywhere, yes?"

Salazar nodded. "They can be a great nuisance."

"This is a reserve—a place for the dragons to live in peace without destroying villages and setting things on fire," she explained.

Salazar's eyes widened and he turned to look at the dragon reserve with interest. "You will show me," he commanded.

"Of course," Hermione agreed.

"Hermione?" Charlie called out from the ranger station.

"Charlie!" Hermione ran ahead and flung herself into his arms. During her apprenticeship with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures she had spent a six-month stint at the Romanian Dragon Reserve, and she and Charlie had grown quite close.

Charlie hugged her tightly and then kissed her soundly. He pulled back to look at her and grinned. "You're looking well, Hermione."

"Why are you always kissing wizards?" Salazar was scowling darkly at Charlie.

"This is Charlie, he is Ginny's older brother," Hermione introduced him. "Charlie, this is Salazar Slytherin."

Salazar grunted and crossed his arms over his chest.

Charlie looked from Salazar to Hermione and his eyebrows rose in surprise. "Is this a joke?"

"I could duel you," Salazar observed in a calm, cool drawl. "Then, if there were enough left of you to do so, you might consider whether or not I am a joke."

"Salazar, behave," Hermione hissed just as Charlie began to laugh.

The tour of the Romanian Dragon Reserve was more strained than Hermione had anticipated. Thank goodness Salazar became intrigued with a Chinese Fireball. Charlie tugged her away from Salazar and dragged her off to the side.

"He wants you, Hermione," Charlie told her bluntly.

Hermione's cheeks burned. "I know," she whispered. She waved a hand absently while she tried to keep an eye on Salazar. "It's because our magic is sympathetic, or something like that."

Charlie watched her watching Salazar for a moment. "You do realize that sympathetic magic merely heightens attraction, right? I mean, if Voldemort showed up and you had sympathetic magic, you wouldn't fall madly in love with him or anything."

Hermione started and turned back to Charlie. "What?"

"He wants you for you. The sympathetic magic just... adds to it," Charlie explained.

"Oh." Hermione froze. He wanted her. Not because she was Hermione Granger or Harry Potter's friend, or any of that. "Oh."

"What are you doing?" Salazar demanded suddenly when he realized that Charlie and Hermione had left him alone. "Are you kissing him again?"

"No," Hermione protested. "I... we need to go home," she decided.

"Home? But we still have to go to the library at Grimmauld Place," Salazar reminded her.

"We have to go home," Hermione repeated. She grabbed Salazar's arm as she had longed to do for a week and thrilled to the little electrical crackle of magic between them. "Goodbye, Charlie."

"Goodbye Hermione. It was a pleasure meeting you, Salazar," Charlie called as Hermione practically dragged him to the Apparition point.

"What is going on?" Salazar protested. "Is something happening? Are you in danger?"

Quickly and efficiently, Hermione waved her wand over the both of them. They Apparated to Hermione's fenced backyard, and Hermione hustled Salazar into the house.

"Stop pushing me," Salazar growled and turned to face her with a scowl as she closed the door behind her. "What are you doing?"

Hermione grabbed the lapel of his robes and pulled him toward her so that she could smash her lips against his. One hand slid up into his thick, silky hair. grabbing a handful and pulling him even closer so that she didn't have to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him. He froze against her and she began to pull back to see if she'd completely misread the situation, profusely apologize, and then die of embarrassment in a quiet corner somewhere, but that seemed to spur him into action. He picked her up, slammed her against the door they'd just walked through, and proceeded to kiss the very breath out of her. He pulled back to frown at her.

"You are feeling well?" He asked carefully in modern English. "This isn't a potion or spell?"

Hermione shook her head. "No," she gasped.

"Good," Salazar growled, and went back to kissing her breathless.

Frantically, her fingers pulled at his robes, and once he understood what she was trying to do, there was a ripping noise as Salazar tried to pull his robes off. His shirt half hung off of him, and Hermione hummed her approval as she ran her fingers over the bulging muscles of his biceps. He growled into her mouth, nipping at her lower lip before he trailed kisses along her jaw and down her neck.

"Salazar," she panted helplessly.

He crooned wordlessly before nosing at her collar, his teeth pulling the fabric to the side to allow him greater access. Hermione fumbled with the buttons of her blouse before cursing under her breath and popping several of them off in her haste to remove her shirt. Salazar made a noise of approval before he tugged her chemise off of her and struggled to divest her of her bra. Her fingers flexed helplessly on the thick muscles of his shoulders as his mouth closed around the tip of one breast. She tried to kiss, lick, and nibble every inch of his skin that she could reach. Salazar lifted his head and Hermione whimpered at the look in those green-gold eyes.

"Are you sure about this, sweeting?" He asked roughly — slipping into Old English in his eagerness.

Hermione nodded. "I'm sure," she whispered.

With a muffled curse Salazar set Hermione down only briefly so that he could help her out of her clothes and rid himself of his own. Then he lifted her in his arms again and pressed her against the door. Hermione could feel the cool, carved wood of the door pressing into the flesh of her back and bum, but it was nothing compared to the feel of Salazar's heated flesh pressed against hers. She could feel the hot, hard length of him, and Hermione gasped as he slid inside of her. They moaned together at the feel of it, and then Salazar began to move inside of her.

At another time, the solid, rhythmic pounding of her door might have been embarrassing, but Hermione reveled in it. Her fingernails dug into Salazar's shoulders and she clung to him for dear life. Salazar's fingers dug into her hips, cupping her bum, holding her in place as he pistoned into her. Their magic slid along her nerves, making all of her senses feel more alive than she ever had in her life. She tightened her muscles around him, and was rewarded with a strangled groan.

"Salazar," she gasped as he picked up the pace.

"Tell me you're close," he begged.

"I'm close," she promised.

"Thank the gods," he muttered.

Carefully, he worked his hand between them, his callused thumb pressing against the sensitized flesh of Hermione's clitoris. Her legs tightened around him and she keened when Salazar added a little hip swivel that made her see stars. With a bellow that made her ears ring, Salazar took them both over the edge. He collapsed against her, keeping her pressed tightly against the door. She gasped for air taking great, deep lungsful.

"Wow. That was... wow." Hermione muttered into Salazar's shoulder when she was no longer worried about hyperventilating.

"You were also wow," Salazar murmured. He pulled back to look at her with a worried frown. "You are all right? I did not hurt you?"

"No, no, I'm fine," Hermione replied. When he moved back and Hermione was able to put her feet down her legs wobbled slightly and she laughed. "Mostly fine," she amended.

Salazar scooped her up and carried her down the hall.

"Hey, you don't need to do this," she protested. "I'm fine, really."

Salazar looked down at her and cocked a brow. "You do not wish to continue?"

"Continue?" Hermione squeaked. She stared up at Salazar in surprise. "You mean... again? Now?"

"Are you too tired?" Salazar asked with a worried frown. "Are you certain I didn't hurt you?"

"No, no, I'm fine. Great. I would be happy to... to continue," Hermione babbled and then blushed furiously. "I just wasn't expecting that you would want to, um, continue."

Salazar snorted in amusement. "I have a feeling that it will be a very long time before I no longer wish to bed you, witch. Mayhap even a lifetime," he added under his breath.

Hermione blinked and then wound her arms about his neck. "Me too," she told him with a shy smile.