Chapter Text
Hermione was barely aware of the feeling of the bed beneath her limbs, but she knew she felt good. A comfortable ache between her thighs and soft sheets around her kind of good. It had been a while since she felt this relaxed. In that still strange space between dreaming and awake, her mind surfaced some of the moments from the night before...
A dark head of hair between her thighs and the feeling of his tongue on her as he ate her out, she groaned into the growing light of the dim room. Where had this come from? Had she been dreaming? Certainly not. She could feel the evidence of her encounter, specifically the lack of clothing. There had been drinking earlier last evening and stumbling… where? She knew they were laughing a bit, stripping off clothes. Who...? The sensation of him inside her, she almost rolled her eyes back into her head at the memory of it. Lips on her neck… fuuuuck .
Rolling over, she felt the dip of someone else in the bed.
In her hazy, lust-filled state, she reached for them. She didn’t know what time it was but knew another go sounded fabulous. Luckily, it seemed the other person was also interested or half asleep. She felt soft, wet kisses being pressed to her chest and shoulders.
Hermione sighed, especially when the attention made it to her quickly hardening nipples. The feeling had her desire slide between her legs, and she wanted to keep going. The sensation of a slight nip to one of her breasts made her whine and she pressed them closer, lifting her chest, offering more. They obliged wet kisses pressing to her nipple, sending heat coursing through her. God, this was good, but she just needed to remember something… finally opening her eyes, she saw a dark head against her. Dark hair, unmistakable.
“Pro-professor!” She was awake now, and everything came flooding back.
He raised his head lazily and then, too, seemed to clock who he was with. Then he seemed to have the same realisation dawn on him: The Order party, the drinking, they were in the library, and then they went home together.
Hermione’s breath caught at the look of him still against her chest, sleepy; she’d wanted to sleep with him for a while but hadn’t dared to ask him out, but he now seemed shaken by this. Like he hadn’t realised, like she'd been moments before too sleepy to recognise fully. There was a pause and a breath between them, and Hermione hoped for the best, but his eyes shot down to their bodies, him hovering over her. He nearly jumped to his feet, running a hand through his hair, searching for his clothes.
Shit, shit, shit.
He was clearly so embarrassed it was unbelievable. Hermione felt her cheeks reden, and she thought of the night before. A drunken mistake to him. Clearly .
She needed to get out of there. Sitting up, she found her clothes scattered about the floor, tugging her dress over her head. Hermione felt her face grow perhaps hotter and redder when she saw the torn remnants of her knickers on the floor. The image of him pulling them off with his teeth partially, then ripping them down the centre, had her pinching her legs together in hot and bothered agony. She only remembered part of it, and it had been the best sex of her life, very possibly.
“Uh, there is a- you can use the shower if you’d like.” She heard him mutter from the doorway.
They hadn’t been this awkward since they started working together a few years after the war. Now, they went to weekly drinks and worked on projects together. Sure, he was gruff, and she’d had to give him the silent treatment every once in a while for being a git when he was particularly prickly, but they were… friends.
Not anymore, Mione.
This is what she had been trying to avoid. She didn’t want to ruin what they had with her feelings. She was going to fix this somehow.
“Um, I am okay, thank you…”
When she turned to see him at the door, she thought perhaps he looked hopeful, but his eyes roved over her face and quickly hardened. It had been a mistake on his part, easy to see.
“I will get out of your… hair.” Images of tugging his hair the night before when he was inside of her made Hermione want to squeal with embarrassment. Instead, she headed for the floo. She knew where it was; she’d been to his home before.
Trying her best at light and cheery a - it's OKAY, I always have meaningless, drunk sex with my friend and coworker who I’ve had a crush on for years now- “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then she left without waiting to hear his reply.
…
Rubbing a hand over his face for the fifth time that morning, Severus waited for the coffee machine to finish his morning beverage. Despite having thought about this through most of Sunday with a wicked hangover that the potion didn’t entirely take away, he still couldn’t wrap his mind around what to do.
Now, it was Monday. He was going to have to see her. She’d looked thoroughly and utterly embarrassed- and fucking beautiful - Like she’d realised the gravest mistake anyone could have ever made; sure, he was… well, him, ugly, mean, but he hadn’t expected her to be so obviously callous towards him. Severus had thought they’d developed a rapport of some kind, a friendship.
That’s where it should have stayed.
He’d lusted after her for some time, but he knew it never would have worked. She’d been with Weasley and then dated Draco even for a while. He wasn’t her type. She knew too much about him.
Most of his casual encounters were with women who knew very little of who he actually was. Only what the media put out and it was always saccharine, making him out to be some Byronic hero. Not what he was, a dull, old man who probably had some form of Neurodivergence based on his rather annoying lack of social skills and pension for things to be precisely as he wished them to be. So, it was always casual, and most didn’t care. That's what most women wanted: a night with the dreaded deatheater turned hero. It did the trick, but last night, it wasn’t like that.
Granger was… well, she was so much, everything he’d needed in his life after the war. She pushed past his defences and allowed him to see the real her, and in turn, he had lightened up a little and allowed her in. Now, that was surely gone.
How much alcohol had Molly put in that damn punch was the question? He’d not been so pissed in years. It was also unfortunate because he didn’t remember all of it; he had wanted her for years and finally had her, but he didn’t even have the memory to go off of. Well, he had some, but not the whole thing, and he wanted every detail for his memory. Some images were there, her sounds in his ear… His name coming from her lips as she tightened around him… He bit his knuckles and headed out of the house.
As he stopped at his usual coffee place on the way to work, fidgeting with his attire, he half wondered if he should just quit his job. He could move; he meant to move from the UK after the war, but he didn’t. Severus sighed; that was an absurd notion; he was not going to just up and quit because he’d had a one-night stand, and he liked his job. Bossing around young and impressionable minds was his forte anyway. He was the Director of Research and Development in the potions department. Perfect for him. He managed apprenticeships and worked on experimentation and research. The apprentices were dunderheads, but he survived.
Granger- he thought of her as he carried his hot coffee across the street to the Ministry entrance; she headed the political and technical side of things. Council meetings, presentation preparation on new potion patents, all of what Severus would find incredibly boring, still being the Director of Potions Operations, seemed to suit her.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the doors open to the office, and luckily, no one was in there, at least. He could hear sounds from the lab, but here, he was alone, only the sound of his boots hitting the tile floor. That lasted for a mere few seconds, though, when one of his brewers popped their head in.
“Staff meeting, Sir?”
F.U.C.K.
That was indeed his luck right there. Nodding toward the younger man Severus gathered the file and notes he’d put together on Friday before he had gone and used his weekend to royally fuck up his personal and professional life and headed for the lab. He was absolutely an idiot. Would she tell people? Make fun of stupid old Snape, thinking he was attractive enough for her. He shut his eyes before entering and took his usual seat to address the others, but she was not there.
He wasn’t usually so self-deprecating, not this long after the war. He had really been sure he was a changed man in some ways, at least, but he wasn’t stupid enough to believe that Hermione bloody Granger would sleep with him without the influence of alcohol or anything else.
“Morning,” he said finally, trying his best to calibrate so this would not throw him off.
The employees looked at him expectantly.
“Director Granger is…” He trailed off, unsure what to say. He had no idea where she was; she’d never been late in all the time they’d worked together.
Oh bugger.
“Right here!” Hermione came rushing in, coat still on, looking a bit dishevelled but in that adorable way that Severus constantly found stunning. “So sorry! I had an earlier meeting and lost track of time.”
Hermione never lost track of time. Snape gulped and hoped no one noticed. She shrugged off her coat and sat beside him, altogether avoiding his gaze, even as the smell of her perfume engulfed him.
Enlarging her packet of paperwork, she began while he paused in this unwell state. “We need to be better about tracking ingredients…” She started at the top of their list, as they always did.
Relax, Severus, she is just being normal.
Surprisingly, he made it through the rest of the meeting without having a heart attack or some other fatal failure. He was about to dismiss everyone when Hermione cut in
“I wanted to let everyone know I am going on a work trip with a few others for the next three or so months. It will be to collect data and examine how the French Ministry’s potions department functions. I will still be working there via Owl and other, so if you need me, owl me, but preferably go to Master Snape.”
There was a general consensus of understanding, though he doubted they were at all happy to have to deal with him more often than sunny Hermione Granger. His mouth was mainly open, like a fish. He knew this trip might happen, but so soon? That did get him thinking, though. Maybe it was good. It could set things right between them.
He tried his best to act natural as he turned and strode toward their office. They shared one, always had; initially, it had been odd, but it became normal 10 years later. They had become friends… and he had fucked it up, literally.
She was screaming your name, mate, in your bed-
“I didn’t mean to blindside you with that.” Hermione’s voice came from the doorway. He was turned the other way, making coffee. He hadn’t even noticed he’d started, but then again, they always had coffee at this time. It had become routine all of this, her even. Despite his best efforts, he had been falling for her perhaps longer than he had even noticed.
Cool, collected, Snape, don’t make her feel uncomfortable. Then the other part of his brain screamed: YOU WERE ALWAYS DESTINED TO BE ALONE!
“I knew the opportunity had arisen; I just didn’t know when.” Fall back on those Occlumency shields, he thought to himself. If he could stay cool and confident, then perhaps this would all simply blow over.
Hermione nodded, “Sorry, it's last minute that you have to supervise on your own.” She wasn’t looking at him, and when she finally did, meeting his eyes, there was a sense of discomfort, and then a blush spread over her cheeks.
Severus looked away, busying himself with the coffee machine and his cup. Things were clearly very awkward between them. He only waved a hand, finally catching a glance up at her face. He saw hope there, but he wasn’t entirely sure what it was about.
“I know this has been coming, and it means a great deal to you. We will survive here.”
She nodded, her gaze drifting toward the coffee maker as she made her way over to pour herself a steaming cup of the rich brew. The aroma filled the air, a small comfort amid the tension that lingered between them. They settled into their workday, an unspoken agreement hanging over them to avoid discussing the incident. It replayed in Severus’s mind like a stubborn film looping on repeat, each fragment of memory surface with vivid clarity, tugging at him.
...
It was a whirlwind, Hermione had thought at least it would be a few weeks before she would be leaving on the work trip. It seemed perhaps this was a good thing, though; Severus seemed to be completely unable to be around her, at least in any capacity that they used to. Avoiding her, when they were in the office, instead of the calm silence they usually shared, he had begun to play music lowly on his side of the room, building a wall bit by bit between them. She was under the impression that he sorely regretted what had occurred between them and it made Hermione want to scream, she couldn’t remember all that much of the encounter but what she was able to recall had been incredible. They’d been friends for a long while, and clearly, that is where he had wanted it to stop, but whatever he had gleaned about her needs in the bedroom from various conversations he had taken to heart. It had been the best sex of her life and she didn’t even remember all of it.
Puttering away at some of her last minute work she checked her muggle cell phone and saw a few texts from Arthur who really did love having a mobile and also one from her mother. Granda’s party in mid April. Can you make it with your work trip?
Grumbling a bit, she shot off a quick text saying she would be back and attend and threw her phone down perhaps a bit too hard. Wincing she turned back to her work, out of the corner of her eye she caught Severus staring at her.
“Alright?” His deep voice sent a delicate shiver down her spine.
“Hmm?”
“You seem rather angry at that mobile.”
Rolling her eyes Hermione met his and had to stop herself from actually gasping, those dark eyes were something else entirely and now that she knew the way they looked between her thighs… He asked you a question!- “Oh, just my mum. My grandad has a birthday in a few months.”
“You don’t get along if I remember correctly?” His soft rumble floated across the room to her even as he was looking back at a few pages he had in front of him.
“No, he’s difficult… Never quite got over his grandchild being a witch .” She didn’t really want to get into it at the moment. Something she had often realised about Severus in the time she’d known him was that despite the spiky exterior he was rather adept at knowing what to say and when to say it, if he felt you worthy of such a thing.
“It goes against muggles' normal idea of the world. That can be scary I think, my own father was similar, I don’t think that removed their part in such things, but perhaps it helps us understand where they come from.”
Hermione looked up meeting his eyes, she longed to tell him how badly she wanted that the other night, to tell him that despite their past she thought he was so insightful and kind even- but he almost instantly looked away. Clearing his throat and moving swiftly from the room, muttering something about getting a vial of something from the lab.
He was clearly horrified, and she just couldn’t bear it. It had been so nice to have him as a friend for the last few years and now that seemed to be fully shot in the foot. She just had to go and catch feelings for him. Some time away would be very beneficial.
…
Usually, they went and got a drink at a pub nearby at the end of a Monday or Friday. Severus had been acting downright standoffish the whole day, though, so Hermione wouldn’t even bring it up. Usually, they talked about potions, a book they’d read, or made fun of some new antics the Order was getting up to; the whole while, Hermione would try not to feel such an intense pull of attraction to him. And now, despite only remembering bits and pieces of Saturday night, little sparks of pleasure would shoot through her when she remembered his head between her legs or the way he had trailed his lips over her ankle.
She shut her eyes to try to stave off the memory, and when she opened them, Severus had caught her. He looked concerned or mildly worried; she wasn’t sure. “I'm just tired,” she lied.
He nodded and went to grab his coat. He stopped and looked back at her. She hoped he would ask her to go to the pub so things could be normal again… “Have a good time working in France.” He finally gave her just the slightest tip-up of his lips, which she knew to be as close to a smile as he ever got.
She swallowed hard and nodded, “owl me with news and any other items I should know.”
He nodded and stepped out of the door, leaving her alone.
…
He didn’t really even know what he was doing. Usually, it was his preferred move to wallow after something like this; he wasn’t adept at dealing with people, ones he liked and also ones he didn’t like, but it didn’t matter in this scenario, instead of apparating to his home, as he usually would. Severus found himself standing outside of Malfoy Manor. The place was lit up, at least in the main living area; Narcissa had sealed off the other parts ‘for renovating’ though he doubted they would ever get to it or have the funds for it.
After the war, Lucius had spent years in Azkaban, perhaps less horrific of a place under Kingsley, but it had changed him. Narcissa under house arrest had also been something that changed the couple. Severus hadn’t spoken to them in years until one day, four years ago, Severus had run into them by accident. They’d got talking, and it seemed they missed their youthful days before everything had taken a turn. Not that Deatheater wannabes had ever not been stuck up or foul, but it was different now; everything was.
Now, Severus was there often for dinner or drinks. Still, he had never shown up unannounced, though he had no other friends… Except for the Order, perhaps, and Hermione, which was likely over. So he used the ornate knocker and waited.
The huge door creaked and groaned as it was pulled open. Narcissa on the other side of it.
“Severus?” She wore a velvet dressing gown, not the kind for actual sleeping, the kind that rich people lounged around a house in—dark emerald and crossed over her front, exposing the swells of her breasts. Severus would have been gobsmacked as a teen; he’d always found Narcissa outrageously attractive back then. She was still beautiful now, but… things were different. He didn't feel interested at all.
“Evening, I uh,” he paused. What was he doing here? “Well, I needed to…”
A wry smile came over Narcissa’s lips, “come in.”
Following her down the hall and to the study, he could already see cigar smoke.
“Darling? Who is it?” Lucius’s smooth voice sounded posh even when he thought no one was around. Turning, he saw them walk in blue-grey eyes surveying the two of them.
“What in the devil are you doing here?” The older man muttered. I never thought we would get a simple call; you’re usually too bloody pent up for that.”
Severus let out a rush of air somewhere between a groan and a huff.
Lucius got up, gesturing to the other leather armchair. Strolling to the glass bar cart, he held up a bottle of scotch, swinging it in question.
Severus nodded and sat heavily in the chair. The room was warm, perhaps too much so. A fire lapped at never-disappearing wood, the flames reflecting off the green marble of the fireplace. It made Severus perspire, and the unease that had been circling in him came with it.
Narcissa draped herself on the sofa across from him. “Is this about a girl?”
Placing his head in his hands, Severus didn’t respond.
“That answered my question then.”
When he lifted his head, she was smirking. “Is it Granger?”
This time, his head fell back against the chair. “It was that obvious then?”
Lucius pressed a drink into his hand, “wildly so. Now tell us what happened.”