Chapter 9 - Class Dismissed

She stepped inside the office and closed the door firmly behind her, then she stood awkwardly, regarding him in silence. He kept his eyes on the parchment in front of him, quill still poised to make notes, steadfastly refusing to look at her.

"I'd like to know why you ended our lessons, Professor," she said eventually.

"I do not owe you an explanation, Miss Granger," he said, coldly. "I believe I stated, when I agreed to the lessons, that either of us could end them at any time, for any reason."

"If you want to stop our lessons I accept that, but you've been avoiding me for two weeks. In class you've been even more unpleasant than usual. I at least deserve to know what I've done wrong that's made you so angry at me." Her own tone was angry, but there was also hurt in her voice. He had to ignore it.

When he gave no reply, she continued, bitterly. "I thought you at least had enough respect for me to be honest."

"You have learned everything you need to know," he stated. "The rest you will have to work out with boys your own age."

"We both know this wasn't about learning any more," she snapped. "We were both enjoying sex together, or I thought we were. If you just got bored of me because I don't have much experience, I understand that, but you've no right to act like you're pissed at me."

"I am not 'pissed' at you, Miss Granger."

"Don't lie to me! You're obviously angry about something."

He turned his focus back to the parchment in his hands.

"Look at me!" Her hand slammed down onto the parchment as she shouted, knocking it from his hands and sending the quill skittering across the a desk, leaving splashes of ink in its wake.

He looked up into the angry face that was so close to his own, long practice allowing him to keep his own features impassive. She took several deep breaths, and straightened up, obviously trying to calm herself.

When she spoke again, her voice was quiet. "The only other reason I can think of is that you think I'm developing feelings for you." He said nothing. "Look, you made it perfectly clear from the start that you didn't want any emotional involvement, and I realize I have become a bit attached to you. I enjoy your company; that's all. How can you get angry with me just because I've started to think of you as a friend?"

"A friend?"

"Of course. What's wrong with that? I told you - even if I did have deeper feelings for you, I know that there could never be anything between us. Just because I've started caring enough not to think you're an arse most of the time doesn't mean I can't respect those boundaries. You shouldn't punish me for daring to think that you're actually a decent human being."

Snape did not want to have to deal with this. Her mere presence was painful to him. He stood, pushing his chair back, and moved toward the door to his rooms. He reached for the handle, but the sound of her voice stopped him. It was soft but full of hurt.

"Please, Professor. Just tell me why."

His mind seemed caught - stuck in a single moment of indecision. He desperately wanted to retreat to his rooms and end this difficult conversation, but part of his mind was screaming at him to take a chance and tell her the truth. Surely her reaction - whatever it would be - could not make him feel any worse than he did already.

He hesitated, then let his hand slide from the doorknob. He stepped closer to the door and rested his forehead on it, as though for support. When he spoke, he didn't move, not wanting to see her reaction.

"Hermione," he said softly. "I am angry at myself, not at you. I am the one who has become emotionally involved." He took a deep breath. "I stopped our lessons because I think I am in love with you."

There was a long silence between them and Snape remained resting against the door with his eyes closed.

Eventually, Hermione spoke. "I don't know what to say." All trace of anger was gone from her voice.

"I know that you are not interested me," Snape continued. "You need someone your own age, who can take you to Hogsmeade and hold your hand in public." He turned towards her but couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes. "I do not know if what I am feeling is genuine love or an obsession, but I cannot bear the thought of anyone else kissing you or touching you … making love to you. I cannot go on doing what we are doing, knowing that you are just waiting for someone else. That's why I had to stop our lessons." He stood helpless, his unfocused eyes directed at the floor. "You asked for the truth," he said, weakly. He had never felt so vulnerable.

When she next spoke, her voice was closer. Gentle.

"Professor," she said. "I don't know if I can feel the same way about you. You were so firm about not getting romantically involved that I haven't allowed myself to think about you that way. But I do know I have feelings for you. You're the most intelligent and interesting man I've ever met, and I feel so incredibly safe and comfortable and happy when I'm with you." She reached out to take one of his hands in hers, and he finally found the strength to meet her eyes. "I think I'd like to find out where this could lead," she said.

Slowly, he reached up to touch her face, drawing his fingers gently over her cheek. In silence, they drew together until her head was on his chest and their arms held each other. It was a gentle embrace - he felt somehow as though holding her tight might cause the moment to shatter and she might disappear into the air - but his chest filled with hope.

"Severus?" she said. His heart wanted to melt at the sound of his name on her lips.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"There's something I think we need to do. If we want to find out how we really feel about each other, I think we should spend some time getting to know each other. Without sex."

"I agree. Perhaps … until the end of the year, when you will no longer be a student?"

Hermione looked up at him in surprise. "That's four months away! I was thinking of more like a week."

He smiled and kissed her. "Let us just see how it goes."

~~~SS~~~SS~~~

They lasted for almost six days.

Although her 'detentions' were finished - and assigning more would cause people to ask questions - they had continued to meet almost every evening. Hermione's preference for working alone in the library had been useful in avoiding questions from her friends about her long absences, and she had little difficulty in sneaking away any time she wanted. This was helped by the fact that seventh-years had their own rooms instead of shared dormitories. Their time together had been spent discussing everything from Transfiguration and Arithmancy to their favourite books and music, and he felt that he was only just beginning to understand what an intelligent and wonderful witch she was.

They had been discussing a potion they had brewed together the previous evening, when Hermione reached for his hand. They had avoided all physical contact since making their agreement to forgo sex, and her touch made his skin tingle. Looking into her eyes, he saw a glint that told him she had much more in mind than than holding his hand. She placed this beyond all doubt when she straddled him in his chair and kissed him, tenderly.

"Might I remind you, Miss Granger, that we agreed to temporarily abstain from sex?" He suspected that his attempt to sound severe was totally ineffective.

She pretended to be innocent. "Who said anything about sex, Professor? I'm only kissing you."

She kissed him again and he placed his hands on her shoulders to push her away.

"Kissing leads to other things," he growled.

"Really?" She tried to kiss him again.

He tried to sound exasperated. "Do I have to tie you up to keep you under control?"

She grinned. "I wouldn't mind!"

"Be careful what you wish for!"

Arching her back, she pulled her shirt over her head, exposing a creamy lace bra over her beautiful breasts. "I know exactly what I'm wishing for," she said with a sly smile. "Make love to me, Severus."

"We agreed to wait for a week," he reminded her, wondering how long he could keep up this denial.

Her bottom lip extended in a fake pout. "Severus," she argued, "It's been almost a week, and you weren't speaking to me for two weeks before we even agreed to that. That should count for something. I want you."

He could resist her no longer, even in play. He pulled her towards him and their lips met, first gently, then intensely.

He had not realized until this moment how much he had held himself back during their lessons. He had enjoyed every moment of their sex together, but at the back of his mind it had always been about teaching her and guiding her in her exploration of her sexuality. Now, for the first time, this was about the two of them. They were no longer student and teacher - they were lovers. It felt like a tremendous release for him as he explored her mouth and felt her own passion rivaling his.

Her hands were on his shirt, pulling hurriedly at his buttons, and he shrugged it off his shoulders as quickly as he could. The heat of her body against his was like fire as he held her to him, but he needed to move. He wanted her out of those ridiculous, inflexible muggle jeans, plus the gyrations of her hips against his crotch were becoming almost painful for his trapped cock. Sliding her backwards off his lap until she stood before him, he unfastened her trousers and slid them down.

She gasped in surprise as he suddenly stood, scooping her up with hands under her buttocks and pinning her against the wall. Her legs were around his waist and he pushed himself against her, grinding his crotch against her knickers while his mouth fervently explored her neck and shoulders.

The arms around his shoulders tightened with her arousal. His cock was rigid inside his trousers and he knew exactly how to rub against her to stimulate her. He wanted to hear her gasp and moan and it was not long before she was doing exactly that. Their lips met ardently as she shuddered to a climax.

She had barely come down from her high when she turned them both around and pushed his back against the wall. Despite his much greater strength, he allowed himself to be pushed, enjoying her assertiveness. He rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes as he felt her tugging at the buttons of his trousers. His fingers curled into her hair and his hands followed her as she knelt before him, pushing his trousers and underwear down to release his yearning erection.

Her breath and hands were hot on his skin. He found himself almost holding his breath, waiting for the moment when she would engulf him in her warmth. She made him wait, exploring his skin with her tongue, trailing kisses and licks over every ridge. He released a soft moan as she finally took him in her mouth, pulling him inside with firm suction and a caressing tongue. What had he done to deserve this beautiful young witch on her knees before him? His breathing became faster as she brought him towards completion. As he got nearer and nearer, he wound his fingers more tightly into her hair. He felt an almost overwhelming urge to thrust himself deep into her throat, but instead he pulled her away from him.

Quickly drawing her to her feet, he kissed her protesting lips passionately before pulling her towards the fire. He took his wand from the small table where he had left it and conjured a thick fur rug, immediately guiding them both down onto it. He quickly slipped off her knickers, then they were kissing again, her hands in his hair, holding him to her as though she never wanted to let him go. He knew exactly how she felt, as he felt it too: a need to hold tightly to her as if trying to squeeze their bodies together to become one. Their lips were crushed together and they held each other fiercely as he sank himself deep into her wetness. His aggressive thrusts were very different from the gentleness of their lessons, but were matched by her own fervency. They needed each other.

The sounds of her moans and gasps were exquisite as they both neared climax. He focused on her face as he brought her to the edge, and it was only when he felt her release, with the "Oh … gods! ...Severus!" he had been longing for, that he gave the final powerful thrusts he needed to join her in heady bliss.

They lay, breathing heavily, in each other's arms. Their eyes locked together and they simply gazed at each other, saying nothing. Her eyes were beautiful and clear and he knew that whether she was ready to say it or not - whether she even realized it herself - at this moment, she loved him.

"I never knew that I could feel this way," she whispered at last. "Being with you feels so right."

"Stay with me, tonight," he pleaded softly. "I don't want to let you go." I don't ever want to let you go, he added silently.

She smiled. "As long as we sleep on the bed, not here on the floor."

"The bed sounds like an excellent plan," he agreed, then added with a smirk, "but I have no intention of letting you sleep. I am not even close to being finished with you tonight, my love."

"I'm glad to hear that."

He stood, pulling her to her feet, and led her to his bed.

When they finally fell asleep, several hours later, Severus Snape was the happiest he could ever remember feeling. His arms were wrapped around the naked body of the woman he was sure he was in love with, and he knew that when he woke the next morning, the first thing he would see would be her.

~~~ THE END ~~~