Christmas Cleavage

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/52171285.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Additional Tags: Christmas, magicked mammaries, Snark, Holidays at Hogwarts, Snape
lives (obviously), Hermione’s a professor, Happy Ending (nudge nudge
wink wink), Oneshot
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-12-16 Words: 12,585 Chapters: 1/1
 Christmas Cleavage
by OracleObscured

Summary

A chaotic Christmas catastrophe, where Hermione’s cups runneth over, and Snape gets what
he deserves.

Notes

A/N: Haven’t written in ages, but I’ve been trying to get back into it lately. It’s been awkward
as hell, and I went through a clunky reacclimatization that made me wonder if I’d ever find
my old flow again. But after a few months of practice, I think I might’ve finally gotten back
into the groove a bit. I wrote the beginning of this story years ago and decided to try to finish
it—and actually succeeded. (Yay!) Hope you enjoy.

Side note—I’m really glad that people are still reading and enjoying my old stories. I’m often
slow to reply to comments these days, but I do see them and appreciate every single one. I
haven’t been doing well (physically or mentally) the past couple of years, and I’m not always
in a place where I can interact with others. Just a head’s up in case you ever don’t hear back
from me right away.

Hope everyone has a good holiday season. Stay safe ❤️

Knock knock.

Severus frowned and burrowed into his book, ignoring the interloper. As of ten o’clock that
morning, the Christmas holidays had officially begun, and until the third of January, he
considered himself off duty.

Knock knock knock knock!

Growling, Severus closed his eyes. No one’s here. Go away!

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCK!

Fucking hell. Slamming his book closed, Severus rose from his chair and stalked across the
room. Glare firmly in place, he flung open the door, ready to eviscerate the hapless moron
who dared disturb his peace.

But before he could even open his mouth, he was unceremoniously shoved back into his
rooms, and what appeared to be a brunette hairball barreled its way over the threshold.

“Granger!” he erupted. “What’s the meaning of this? What do you think y—“

Hermione’s eyes flashed with pure rage, effectively silencing him in a way no one had
managed since the Dark Lord himself. Severus straightened his frock coat and took a deep
breath, affecting an air of annoyance to mask his retreat.

Granger’s nostrils flared and she clenched her fist around her wand so tightly her knuckles
gleamed white. “Don’t start with me, Severus. Not today. I need your help, and I don’t need
any of your lip to go with it.”

Severus blinked. He’d never seen her so furious. And why didn’t his glaring work on her
anymore? Blasted Gryffindors and their imperceptive bullheadedness.

“I’ve been jinxed,” she hissed. “Or someone slipped me something. I’m not sure which.”

A little of his outrage melted, replaced by curiosity. He didn’t see anything wrong with her—
discounting that explosion she called hair, which had frizzed up like an electrical storm to
match her thunderous mood. Half of her appeared to be riotous chestnut curls, the remainder
was obscured by ill-fitting robes.

“I’d say you need a refresher on how to properly ask someone for help,” he replied darkly.
“Or perhaps you’d like to hex me a bit to round off this atrocious invasion of—”

“Could we do the whole lecture thing later?” she interjected. “You can lambaste me to your
heart’s content once I’m back to normal.”

“And just what makes you think I’d even want to help you after being subjected to such
interminable rudeness?”
Granger rolled her eyes as if he’d asked the most ridiculous question ever. “Because ...”

He arched an eyebrow.

She sighed, and her body (and hair) deflated as if she’d been pricked by a pin of morose
dejection. “Because of these.”

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the front of her oddly puffy black robes and spread her
arms.

For a split second, Severus thought she was flashing him, but beneath her robes she wore an
enormous distorted Christmas jumper and a pair of nondescript jeans. It took a double-take to
realize why her jumper looked so distorted.

“What,” he asked faintly, “are those?”

She growled, her expression miserable. “What do they look like? They’re breasts!”

What had once been healthy handfuls now strained at her jumper, stretching the wool to its
absolute limit. She looked absurdly unbalanced, as if she might topple over at any moment.
Severus angled his head to one side, marveling at what seemed to be a refutation of basic
physics.

Granger snapped her robes shut. “Would you stop staring! Bloody hell! I’m not a piece of
meat, you know!”

Technically, as Homo sapiens, they were all pieces of meat, but it seemed prudent to keep
that retort to himself. He could already feel the magic pulsating off her body like a heat wave,
and there was no telling what might happen if she accidentally unleashed any of that in his
direction.

“How am I supposed to assist you if I don’t look?” he asked reasonably. “I don’t even know
what we’re dealing with here.”

Her eyes bugged out, and she tightened her arms around herself. “What do you think we’re
dealing with? Somebody hit me with some kind of perverse hex, and now I look like Miss
Holiday-Hooters 2006! It’s not complicated.”

Snape bit his tongue to keep from smirking. “If it’s not complicated, then handle it yourself.”

“If I knew what to do, I would!”

“Well, I can’t help you if I don’t know what we’re working with. You can’t even tell me if
this was brought on by a spell or potion.”

“That’s why I came to you! I thought you’d be able to tell me.”

“How should I know?”

“Who else knows about such things? You know potions and you know curses. Don’t pretend
you can’t figure this out.”

One corner of his mouth curled in a devilish smirk. “I’m sorry. What was that? Did the
Brightest Witch of her Age just admit she doesn’t know something? That couldn’t be. These
past few years you’ve made it abundantly clear what little regard you have for my
intelligence.”

Her jaw dropped. “Where’d you get an idea like that?”

“Please, Miss Granger. You’re constantly giving me advice, sending me articles on education
and ‘effective classrooms.’ You’ve made your opinions clear.”

She gaped at him, her expression blank. “You’re completely mental, you know that?”

He flashed a warning sneer.

“I sent you those articles—one colleague to another—because I thought you might find them
as interesting as I did. It wasn’t a critique on your intelligence or leadership abilities.”

Severus didn’t need Legilimency to see the truth in her eyes; the earnestness practically
oozed out of her. Shit. She really hadn’t meant to insult him.

“You’re easily the most intelligent person I know,” she went on. “Or I thought you were.
Now I’m not so sure.”

Feeling like a complete and utter arse, Severus remained silent, unsure what to say. It
sounded as if she was ... complimenting him. And that was so at odds with his previous
beliefs, he couldn’t think of a reply that made sense.

Hermione pursed her lips for moment, studying him, her gaze far too perceptive for comfort.
“Look, I’m sorry if I came across as meddlesome,” she said haltingly. “I had no idea you
were taking my suggestions personally.”

“I wasn’t taking anything personally,” he snapped, which unfortunately undermined his

claim, as it sounded exceedingly defensive.

She arched one eyebrow, using his own facial retort to make it clear he’d just proven her
point.

Severus sighed. “Very well. I accept your apology.”

The other eyebrow rose to join the first.

“And I’ll help you ... return to your previous proportions. If you still want my help.”

Her face relaxed, and she gave him a weary nod.

“Perhaps we should take this to my private lab.” He gestured to the door in the corner. “Tell
me what you know of your predicament. I assume this just happened.”
Although she awkwardly locked her arms around her bulging chest, Granger managed to
keep up with him as he strode across the room.

“I was fine at breakfast,” she confirmed. “After the students left for the train, I was walking
back to my room, and I suddenly felt ... odd. Sort of like I’d just woken up from a nap even
though I hadn’t been asleep. My chest started to ... tingle? I’m not sure that’s the right word,
but when I looked down, everything appeared swollen and wrong, and I thought I was
hallucinating.”

Severus ran his wand along the door, dispelling the wards. It creaked on its hinges, and he
flicked a spell at the walls to light the lamps.

With the wave of his hand, he gestured for her to go ahead of him. “Take a seat on the stool
by the worktop. Remove your robes and that godawful jumper. We need to examine the
affected area.”

“We most certainly do not!” she sputtered. “I think you’ve seen quite enough.”

Severus gave her his sternest frown. “Very well then, you need to examine the affected area.
We’re never going to determine the solution if we don’t investigate the effects.”

Hermione squinted up at him from beneath her lashes, as if she might be able to detect some
dishonesty if she simply peered at him fiercely enough. “You’re to keep your eyes to
yourself, Severus Snape. I mean it.”

Snape nodded curtly and turned his back to give her some privacy. Staring at the glass jars
that lined the room, he tried not to listen as she removed her outer layers. She was absolutely
right, he had seen more than enough. The image of her testing the tensile strength of that
jumper might be burned into his brain until the end of time, and he definitely didn’t need any
little Gryffindor pinup girls popping into his thoughts throughout the day when he was trying
to work. Or trying read. Or trying to sleep.

Dear God, he might never sleep again.

“What exactly am I supposed to be looking for?” she asked gruffly.

“What are you wearing under there?”

“Don’t look!”

“If I was looking, I wouldn’t need to ask.”

“Why do you need to know?”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can you see your breasts right now, or are you
wearing some kind of shirt?”

“I’m wearing a t-shirt.”

“Take it off. You need to be able to see your skin.”

“Well, that’s going to be difficult.”

“Why?”

“I’m stuck.”

“What do you mean you’re stuck?”

“I mean,” she said pointedly, “this shirt isn’t budging. I sort of grew into it.”

Severus bit his cheek to keep from snorting. “Just use your wand. Cut it off.”

“No! Viktor sent me this from the last World Cup. It’s a collector’s item.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered. “Enlarge it, then. We’ll shrink it back later.”

“I already tried that. I think it has an anti-alteration enchantment on it. I’m guessing it was
some kind of licensing security measure.”

“Then I believe we are at an impasse.”

“I think I’m starting to have a panic attack,” she whispered. “I really need to get out of this
thing. I swear it’s getting tighter.” It sounded as if she was struggling with the material.

“Calm down,” he commanded. “It’s not getting tighter. You’re just feeling trapped. Take a
deep breath and let it out slowly.” He didn’t hear her exhaling. Just grunting. “I said stop
fighting it. Are you listening to me?”

“No!”

“Miss Granger, if you don’t calm down and start acting rationally, I’m going to have to
subdue you. Is that what you want?”

“Not to be rude, but if you even try to ‘subdue’ me, you won’t be walking out of this room on
your own two feet.”

His lip twitched with a hint of amusement—she certainly was fearless, a credit to her house.
“I’m turning around, Miss Granger. You have been warned.”

Snape turned and found himself staring down the tip of her wand.

“Hold it right there,” Hermione commanded, her voice low. “I’m not playing around.”

Nodding, Severus loosened his grip on his wand and held his hands to either side in
surrender. “Take it. I wasn’t planning to use it on you.”

She snatched the wand from his hand and quickly stepped back, her own wand still trained on
his face.

“What is your plan?” she asked.

“To get you out of that shirt so you can calm down.”

“And how do you intend to do that?”

He debated his choice of words. “As gently as possible?”

“And the subduing?”

“Just a joke,” he assured her. “A bad one, apparently. My sincerest apologies.”

Her breathing began to pick up, her enormous chest rising and falling with each shaky
inhalation. “I don’t like to be restrained, Severus. I’m dead serious. If you try to restrict my
movement in any way, I will retaliate. Violently.”

Merlin’s balls. She looked terrified, her eyes round and unblinking, her face pale. Clearly the
stress of the situation had brought up some bad memories for her.

“You have my word,” he assured her.

After a second of consideration, she lowered her wand, her arm limp. Her eyes shone with
unshed tears, and he could see she was just barely holding herself together.

She wiped at her face and then seemed to remember why they were there, because she spun
around and wrapped her arms around herself, hunched over in a protective embrace. “Don’t
look at me.”

Severus nodded. Of course he had to look at her, but he understood what she meant. “It’s all
right. We don’t need to make this any more painful than need be.”

“How’m I going to get out of this shirt?”

Severus sighed. “If you’re determined to keep it intact, then I think our only option is to—”
he grimaced with distaste—“work together.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she frowned, her brow pinched. “Meaning what exactly?”

“Well …” He leaned left and right to study her shape, squinting at her back as he worked it
out in his head. “I think if I pull up while you move in the opposite direction, we might be
able to shift it.”

“So … you’re going to … strip me?”

“I think we’ll both sleep better if you don’t call it that.”

She turned away again and did an antsy little dance, plainly eager to be freed from the
stranglehold of her clothing—but less eager to be undressed by everyone’s least favorite
Potions master. Severus didn’t blame her for the inner turmoil; he couldn’t imagine going to
her with the same request in reverse.
Heaving out another tight sigh, she nodded. “Okay. Go ahead. Quickly, before I lose my
nerve.”

She put both arms in the air, and Severus shook off an unwarranted shiver of anticipation.
Although his brain knew nothing salacious was about to happen, his body seemed to have a
different idea, and since he couldn’t remember the last time he’d pulled off a witch’s top, he
understood why his body might want to argue its case. But he couldn’t let his body run amok,
not with Goody Granger on the brink of a meltdown. Sweet Salazar … she’d eviscerate him
if she found out he’d felt a twinge of anything other than repulsion.

“You are fully aware this will involve bodily contact, correct? You’re certain this is what you
want me to do?” Severus asked, just to make sure they were on the same page. “I don’t want
you have any second thoughts that might lead to retaliation; a Stunner to the face is no way
to start the Christmas holidays.”

“Get this thing off me, Severus! I can’t breathe.”

“Very well.”

Careful not to touch her more than necessary, Severus slowly curled his fingers under the
hem of her shirt and pulled upward.

Her lower back came into view, and his traitorous body broke out in a wave of
gooseflesh. Nope. Don’t even think about it. He closed his eyes and pulled harder. The shirt
was indeed very reluctant to go past her chest, and he had to open his eyes to readjust his grip
and brace himself with a wider stance.

“Wiggle down, Miss Granger,” he grunted through clenched teeth. “We’ll need to use gravity
to our advantage.”

She did as requested and bent her knees, essentially hanging from her top. Just when Snape
thought they were going to lose the fight, the material doubled over and she fell out of her
shirt with a squeak of surprise. Severus pulled it over her head, waylaid by her hair, but a few
seconds later she was panting on the floor in her jeans and a bra, and Severus held her empty
t-shirt triumphantly in both hands.

“Bloody hell,” Granger gasped into the stone floor. “I think I’ve got friction burn on my
shoulder blades.”

Snape tossed her shirt aside and reached down to help her up. “Are you injured?”

Hermione tenderly inspected her upper arms, which had been rubbed raw on either side. “No,
I … I think I’m okay. At least I can breathe now.”

She stood, still hunched over, clutching her broken bra to her chest. The catch had snapped
under the strain, and the hook had left an angry scratch across her back. Severus hissed under
his breath and reached out to examine the red line, just barely stopping himself from touching
her without permission.
“You’re hurt,” he informed her as he retreated a step.

“Where?”

“The middle of your back. Your hook got you. It’s not bleeding … much, but it will if you
keep pulling on your skin. Do you want me to heal it?”

“Yes, please,” she muttered, curling into herself even more, her hair hiding her face.

“I’ll need my wand.”

Without saying a word, she clamped one arm around both breasts and used her free hand to
pass his wand over her shoulder. Severus took it from her, but as soon as his fingers made
contact, her overwrought magic sent a a stinging jolt through his hand.

“Be careful!” he hissed, rubbing at his palm with a grimace. “You’re going to do us both a
mischief.”

“I can’t help it! Or shall we pop a couple of gargantuan boobs on your chest and see how
calm your magic is?”

Biting his tongue, Snape placed the tip of his wand lightly against her skin. “Point taken. Just
try to stay still for me.”

He murmured a healing incantation, passing his wand back and forth over the blood-dotted
scape, and a moment later her skin went from red to pink, then back to normal. “That looks
better.”

“Okay … thank you very much. Now could you please turn around so I can put my robes
back on? It’s bloody freezing down here.”

Snape tucked away his wand and turned to face the shelves. “You’re safe. I’m not looking.”

He heard her shuffling around and then a muttered warming spell.

“All right. You can look.”

Severus peered over his shoulder, and when he saw her simply standing there in her robes,
her arms crossed over her chest, he turned around fully. “What was your assessment of your
condition when you removed your clothing?

One brown brow arched, and her expression went from tense to perplexed. “What exactly
was I supposed to be assessing?”

“What did they look like?”

“Enormous knockers!”

“No,” Severus bit out. “Did they appear to be your own skin, or is there something artificial
about them? Were they larger versions of your actual breasts or are they just engorged flesh?
And what do they feel like? Do they feel natural like breasts or are they hard? Or buoyant?
Do they have sensation?”

She blinked, nonplussed, and then looked down at her chest with bewildered curiosity.
“Uuuuuhhhh … hold on.”

Turning her back, she opened the top of her robes and ducked her head into the darkness,
then, from what he could see, she felt herself up. Snape’s lip twitched. And for some reason,
so did his cock. Which seemed wholly inappropriate considering the absolute absurdity of the
situation.

“Yeah, so they’re not like my own breasts at all,” she reported shakily. “They’re blown up
like balloons. And they’re tight, like my skin has been stretched. I can feel my nipples, but …
they’re weirdly dull.”

“Are they weighty like real breasts or light like they’re full of air?”

“Heavy.”

“Hmm,” Severus murmured under his breath. “It sounds like some kind of engorgement
charm.”

“Great,” she sighed. “Just give me a Deflating Draught, and I’ll be on my way.”

“I don’t have one on hand. But if you hurry, you could see if Madame Pomfrey is still here.
She might have some in her stores.”

Granger spun around and goggled at him. “I can’t go through the school like this! What if
someone sees me?”

Severus could very well imagine what that might be like, and he did his best not to smirk. No
doubt she’d be some hormonal student’s Christmas wish come true. “If you won’t risk the
hospital wing, you’ll have to wait here while I brew a new batch.”

Closing her eyes, Hermione rubbed at her forehead with one hand and exhaled a rough sigh.
“That’ll take hours.”

“It’s the best suggestion I can offer.”

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

“Just … hang out?” he suggested innocently.

Her eyes slitted to a lifeless death-glare. “Not funny,” she deadpanned. “Not funny at all.”

He disagreed but somehow managed not to smile. “In that case, I’ll get started.”

________
Severus spent the next two hours brewing a Deflating Draught from scratch. Granger did her
best to try and help, but she kept knocking things over with her chest, and while he normally
would’ve found that quite amusing, he didn’t think it wise to laugh in her presence. His skin
still stung where she’d accidentally electrocuted him, and he didn’t like to imagine what
might happen if she got too riled.

Hermione resorted to lying face up atop one of the work stations, claiming her back had
started to seize up, which didn’t surprise him considering what she was carrying around. Flat
on her back, it looked as though she’d been caught in an avalanche and two boulders had
landed on her chest. He was shocked she could breathe with that kind of weight pressing
against her heart and lungs.

“We’ll need to wait a moment for this to cool,” Severus informed her. “But it is finished.”

Struggling to rise, Hermione flailed about like ann upended tortoise before giving in with a
sigh and rolling to her side. “So I just drink it?”

“That is how a draught usually works.”

“I thought perhaps you’d made it topical.”

“Hmm,” Severus muttered with a frown. “Perhaps we could have, but it should be perfectly
efficient when taken orally.”

“How long will it take to work once I drink it?” she asked nervously.

“Thirty seconds at most.”

She tightened her robes over her chest, then placed a hand on either breast and, wincing,
pressed them both up toward her shoulders.

“What are you doing?” Severus asked blandly.

“Taking some of the weight off. My shoulders are exhausted. I don’t know how Dolly Parton
manages.”

“Who’s Dolly Parton?”

She stared at him, her face a mask of bewildered horror. “Never mind.”

“I think this is cool enough now.” Snape said as he ladled a scoop into a phial and held it up
to the light. “It’s not steaming anymore.”

With a groan, Granger lowered her hands and carefully shuffled over to take it from him, her
arms braced in front of her to keep from knocking into anything.

Severus watched as she drank it, then turned his eyes to her inflated robes.
She handed the phial back and gave him a disgruntled frown. “Would you stop staring!” Her
hands crossed over her chest like a prudish mummy and blocked his view entirely.

“I have to see what’s happening,” he argued.

“You don’t have to look that hard. I think it’ll be pretty obvious.”

Grumbling under his breath, Severus turned his gaze to the ceiling instead.

“That’s better,” Granger said primly.

They stood in silence for a solid minute before Severus spoke again. “Am I allowed to look
now?”

“Oh dear …” Hermione muttered. “I don’t think it’s working. They’re just the same.”

Severus lowered his gaze and ascertained that she did, indeed, look exactly the same.
“Hmmm.”

“Hmm?” Hermione echoed, her eyebrows disappearing beneath her hair. “Hmmm? That’s all
you have to say?”

“What would you like me to say?”

“Tell me why this didn’t work. Tell me what we’re going to do!”

“We? This seems like a you problem.”

Her expression went from dismay to hurt, and Severus felt a swoop of regret.

“Well,” Hermione breathed, her eyes full of tears. “Thank you for your time. I do appreciate
that you at least tried. I’ll be sure to reimburse you for the brewing.”

She turned and set off to gather her clothes, her back ramrod straight, head held high.

Severus winced. “Miss Granger …”

She sniffled and tucked her folded jumper against her chest. “What?”

“I didn’t mean it. You don’t have to go.”

“No, you’re right—this is my problem. I shouldn’t have dragged you into it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. What are you going to do, go back to your room and cry yourself into a
smaller bra size?”

She spun around, her damp eyes fierce. “Most certainly not! I’ll sit down and decide on a
new course of action. Perhaps Minerva will have some fresh ideas.”

“The Headmistress is gone for the next four days,” Snape reminded her. “She left just after
the students did.”
The fury on her face dissolved into a quivering frown. “She already left?”

A sickening wave of discomfort flared in his gut. Emotional women were not his strong suit
—especially not ones on the verge of collapsing under the weight of their own mammaries. It
seemed wise to slow her emotional descent before she spiraled out of control. If she
progressed to tears, he’d be lost.

Severus gestured to his desk. “Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll make you a cup of tea. I’m
sure, between the two of us, we can work out a new plan.”

Lower lip trembling, Hermione nodded and perched herself on the edge of his bulky, high-
backed mahogany chair like a tense budgie. Her breathing sounded shaky, but she kept a stoic
façade, and he had to applaud her fortitude.

“Earl Grey?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes, please.”

“All right,” Severus said after setting the kettle over a conjured flame. “Let’s make a list of
what to try next.”

_______

Three hours later they were several failures closer to no solution, and Granger’s panic-
infused hair had grown to a static-y beachball of magic-puffed fluff. She’d put her head down
on his desk, so it looked as if an enormous brunette tumbleweed had blown onto his blotter.

“Severus, I’m tired,” she mumbled into her arm. “Can’t we take a break?”

“I can send an order to the kitchens for some dinner.”

“I’m too anxious to eat.”

“How about some soup?”

“No liquid. My bladder surpassed maximum capacity over an hour ago.”

He exhaled a exhausted chuckle and rubbed at his grainy eyes. “Go back through my rooms.
The bathroom is the first door on the left.”

“Thank you,” she muttered as she rose from the desk in a listless slump.

Severus followed her back into his quarters, then went ahead and sent a written order to the
kitchens for some food, the message disappearing into the fire with a pop of purple inter-
Hogwarts flames. Two minutes later, several plates of meat and cheese appeared on the table
in his room, along with two covered bowls and a loaf of French bread. He lifted the lids and
inhaled the fragrant steam, then tore off a hunk of bread to tide him over.

When Granger came out of the bathroom, she looked as though she’d tried to do something
with her hair, but it only added to the delirious madness that permeated the magic around her.

“The nerve of that mirror,” Hermione grumbled. “It asked me if I’d ever been shown how to
use a brush!”

Severus snorted under his breath. “The audacity!”

She flashed him a small chagrined smile. “I don’t know how you stand it. The last thing I’d
want in the bathroom is a cheeky mirror.”

“It knows better than to insult me.”

“So it’s only rude to guests?”

“I like to discourage repeat visitors.”

“I’ll bet,” Hermione intoned with a smirk. “What’ve you had sent up? That smells lovely.”

Severus summoned another chair for the little table and gestured for her to sit. “Just some
meat and cheese, a little French bread. And they’ve sent you up some soup. Pick whichever
one you like.”

“Oh, potato soup,” she said with a measure of cheer. “That sounds nice.”

She scooted closer to the table, and her tits tipped over the bowl, soaking the front of her
robes.

Biting his tongue to keep from laughing, Snape flicked a quick cleaning charm at her.
“Perhaps you should try going over rather than around.”

“I don’t know what that means,” she said with a weary groan.

Snape lifted his own plate above his chest and ate with it beneath his chin. “Like this. Maybe
use your bosom as a tray?”

Hermione’s eyes snapped to his, and after a moment of silence, her face split into a wobbly
grin, and she began to sputter with laughter.

“Maybe use my bosom as a tray?” she choked out.

The corners of Snape’s mouth twitched. “It seems the most efficient course of action at this
point.”

“Indeed,” Granger muttered, resting her forehead in one hand as she caught her breath.
Despite her flustered amusement, she took his advice and made it through her bowl of soup
without further disaster. They ate in silence for the next ten minutes, and Severus felt
somewhat revived by the surge of nutrients.

“What’s left on the list?” Hermione asked as she picked at the piece of bread on her plate.
“We’ve haven’t tried all the charms, have we?”

“We have,” Severus confessed, wiping his mouth with the corner of his napkin. “I believe
we’ve exhausted our current list.”

“We can’t have!”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Then what are we going to do now?”

“Perhaps you should tell me once more what led up to your … transformation. Maybe if we
narrow down what might’ve happened, it’ll give us some clue as to how we should proceed.”

“I told you—I ate breakfast in the Great Hall, and then, as I was leaving, I started to feel
funny.”

“Did you leave through the staff door?”

“No, I went out the main doors.”

“Did you see anyone?”

“There were a couple students still eating in the Great Hall, and I’d been having breakfast
with Filius at the Head Table. I’m sure he was still there when I left.”

“What about out in the entryway?”

“No students or faculty.” She slowly shook her head, her eyes staring off into the distance, as
if lost in thought. “I saw the Grey Lady on the stairs with Sir Nicholas, but they didn’t see
me; they were headed in the opposite direction.”

“Did you feel strange by then or was it some time after that?”

“After—just as I started down the corridor that goes to my classroom.”

“And you saw no one, you heard nothing?”

“I heard Peeves somewhere in the distance.”

“You heard Peeves?” Severus repeated. “Doing what?”

“Singing a song.”

“About what?”
“It sounded like a Christmas song, but I couldn’t pick out the words.”

“And you’re sure you didn’t eat anything suspicious at breakfast?”

“Not at all. I ate the same thing as Professor Flitwick.”

“What did you drink?”

“Orange juice.”

“Not pumpkin juice?”

“Never.”

Severus sighed. “I think our only choice at this point is to start investigating the scene of the
crime—so to speak.”

“But I can’t …” She waved a hand at her breasts.

“Yes. Agreed. You stay here and rest—try to take a nap if you can. One of us should be fresh
and thinking clearly when we start again. I’m going to check with Filius and make sure
nothing strange has happened to him, and then I’ll ask the ghosts if they noticed anything
suspicious. I’ll have a time tracking down Peeves and getting a serious answer out of him, but
… that’s all I can think of right now.”

Her brow knitted, and she dipped her head in a tight nod. “Maybe check the library as well.
There might be a book on this.”

Severus frowned. “On what … boob magic?”

Her cheeks went pink, but her lips flickered with a smile. “No. Curses or hexes or
something.”

“Miss Granger. I have read every book in this school that relates to curses and hexes, and I
have never come across anything like this.”

“Very well,” Hermione conceded. “But there’s no way I’m going to be able to rest while
you’re gone. Do you mind if I search your library? Maybe I’ll find something helpful.”

Shrugging, Snape waved his hand at the shelves, dissolving the protective climate control
wards. “Be my guest. I don’t think you’ll find anything, but the section on curses and hexes is
on the bottom right.”

She nodded and stood to the side as he pulled on his teaching robes over his frock coat to
keep out the cold whilst en route.

“Be careful,” she told him. “If I didn’t ingest the cause of this and nobody was around to hex
me, it could’ve been triggered by something in the corridors. Keep your eyes peeled.”
Severus paused at the door and looked back at her. “Something in the corridors … sweet
Circe … I hadn’t even considered that.”

Hermione grimaced, both of them realizing at the same time that they might find themselves
with a much more dire situation on their hands. Plenty of students had remained at the school
for Christmas, and if any of them started “busting out,” the holidays would dissolve into
sheer pandemonium. Not to mention they’d have a hell of time explaining it to the parents
and school governors.

Severus frowned and pulled open the door with more force than intended. “I’ll warn the staff
and cordon off your previous path until we find out what caused this.”

“Hurry,” Hermione called after him as the door slammed shut.

________

“Granger!” Severus bellowed as he breathlessly burst into the room.

Hermione jumped up from the table, where she’d been reading behind a tall stack of books.
“What is it? Have you found something? Is someone else hurt?”

Uncomfortably warm, Snape ripped off his robes and used a spell to get out of his frock coat
in a hurry. “You were right. It was in the corridors. Flitwick and I have been running all over
the school making sure everyone’s safe, and, thankfully, none of the students or staff seem to
be affected. But we found the culprit without much trouble.”

“What? Who?”

“Peeves,” Severus hissed, furious that the poltergeist still roamed the school. “He planted
some kind of cursed mistletoe near your classroom, in the first archway, exactly where you
started to feel strange.”

The furrow of her brow made her look mutinous, her eyes aflame with murderous rage. “That
ectoplasmic gobshite! I’ll destroy him!”

She stomped toward the door, ready to storm out, but Severus blocked her path with one arm.
“Slow down, Miss Granger. Filius is already on the warpath. And you can’t go out like that.
You wouldn’t even be able to see the stairs over those things.”

“Did he at least tell you how to fix it?”

Snape’s face hardened, and, placing both hands on her shoulders, he backed her toward the
table and guided her into the chair. “You’re going to want to sit for this.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

Severus pulled up the other chair and sat across from her. “Brace yourself.”
Hermione covered her mouth with both hands, her forehead pinched with worry. “What is
it?”

“Peeves inadvertently altered the magic on some charmed mistletoe,” Severus said as calmly
as he could. “It was originally intended to lure people in and trap them, forcing them to kiss
someone before releasing them. It had a charm on it to make the subject appear more
appealing to any onlooker, increasing the likelihood of making a connection. But it was only
supposed to be a weak illusion, a glamour! Peeves mixed it with Devil’s Breath, and it altered
the original enchantment, so it—thankfully—didn’t trap you, but it did cause some kind of
body-morphing curse, turning you into this hyper-sexualized version of the male fantasy—
taking it from illusion to the extremes of reality.”

Her jaw dropped.

“Yes, I know,” Severus muttered. “It’s not a mixture that’s ever recommended precisely
because of unpredictable reactions like this.”

“So what do we do?”

Sighing, Snape gave her a sardonic stare, raising his eyebrows in pointed emphasis. “What do
you think you have to do?”

She blinked, her face blank. It took her a few seconds to catch on. “Are you saying I need to
… kiss someone?”

“It would appear so,” Severus replied gravely.

Her shoulders sank with relief, and she actually smiled at him. “Oh, thank Merlin! With the
way you were talking, I thought it was going to be something dreadful.”

“Miss Granger, I’m not sure you’ve grasped the full magnitude of the situation.”

“Sure I have,” she replied brightly, her hands cupping her mountainous breasts and giving
them a firm lift. “Have a nice kiss, and these things go back to normal. Bada-bing bada-
boom!”

“Do you have some new boyfriend I don’t know about?”

She laughed and dropped her boobs. “No.”

“Then I don’t know whom you plan to kiss—because Filius, Hagrid, and Filch are the only
adults still present—and I don’t think you want to bring them into this.”

“Don’t be daft! You’re right here.”

“ME?”

“Of course you. Why wouldn’t it be you?”

“We can’t kiss each other!”

“Why not?”

“Because … you’re you, and I’m me.”

“Severus,” she said, suddenly very serious. “I am NOT about to fire-call one of my friends to
come all the way out here to snog my boobs back to normal! This has been disturbing enough
without bringing in extra witnesses!”

“Are you telling me that you don’t have a problem with this, that you’re perfectly fine with
snogging ‘that greasy git in the dungeons’?”

Her eyes widened. “I never called you that!”

“You don’t need to. I can see it in your eyes.”

“You can see … insults … in my eyes,” she stammered in disbelief. “Are you seriously saying
this to me right now? You can see words I never said in my eyeballs?”

“It’s what everyone says, and they’re not wrong.”

“Severus, I don’t know exactly which trauma in your past has led you to believe you’re un-
snog-able, but I can assure you you are not the repellant swamp creature you believe yourself
to be.”

Snape snorted and broke eye contact.

“Don’t you snort at me. If I say I want to kiss you, I mean it. And you can just stow that
derision away for some witch who’s scared off by your brooding glares.”

“I do not brood,” he grumbled.

She popped to her feet. “Then stop glaring at the table and kiss me!”

“Fine!” he said, rising and turning his glare on her.

Her hand zipped out and grabbed hold of his shirt, yanking him forward. The force of it
caused him to bounce against her inflated chest, and he had to clasp her shoulders to keep
from tumbling backward. She stared up at him, her eyes alight with determination, and his
whole body seemed to ignite all at once, as if being in the aurora of her wild magic had set
him on fire.

“Is this what you want?” he asked in a strained whisper.

“Yes,” she breathed and promptly dragged him down to her level.

It felt as if time slowed for a second just before their lips met, a pause hovering between
drifting and solid ground. He couldn’t breathe. But as soon as his mouth touched hers, all the
resistance he’d felt vanished, and he couldn’t imagine why he’d ever been against the idea.
Granger’s lips were softer than a dream. But unlike a dream, she felt warm and alive against
him. Strong and pulsating. A frisson of electric excitement buzzed through his lips, and
Severus groaned, his whole body tuning to the resonance of her kiss.

Hermione pulled back slightly but didn’t let go of his shirt. Severus saw in her eyes a mirror
of his own shocked amazement. If he’d had any doubts about whether she really wanted to
kiss him or not, they died in that instant. Her eyes were dark with want, and she was panting
as if he’d knocked the wind out of her.

“That was …” she whispered, words failing her.

“Yes,” he agreed mindlessly.

Smiling, she looked down at her chest and then back up at him. “I think it’s starting to work.

Severus studied her bulging tits and agreed that they seemed to be deflating. “Should we …?”

“Keep going?” she finished for him.

“You’ll tell me when you’ve returned to your original size?”

She nodded.

Severus immediately leaned in again and pressed his mouth to hers. A stream of warmth
seeped from his lips all the way down to his stomach, where a pool of whirling heat writhed
and fluttered. The skin on his arms popped with gooseflesh and the prickle climbed all the
way up his neck and made his hair stand on end. She sighed against his mouth—a sigh of
pure fulfillment, warm like sunshine—and his heart skidded through several beats, a
sensation so alarming he gasped in a panicked breath around her lips.

The hand on his shirt loosened, and Snape bit back a moan as her fingertips caressed his jaw.
Before that moment he’d never known sweetness could be a sensation. He’d never been
touched with such care. Pulse thrumming, he pulled her closer—not realizing until a moment
later that he’d only been able to do so because her chest had shrunk.

With a muffled moan, she opened her mouth ever so slightly, and when he felt the soft, slick
swipe of her tongue skim his lower lip, his entire spine began to hum. Tremulous elation shot
through his groin, and his cock strained at his placket with alarming impatience. The
magnetism between their bodies dragged them closer, unrelenting. Undeniable. They both
emitted a noise of hungry surprise when the stiff bulge in his trousers collided with the
warmth of her belly.

Gasping, she pulled back. “Bloody hell … is that …?”

She curled her hips against him. Severus growled in the back of his throat and, without really
meaning to, returned the thrust. Her right hand dropped to his middle, her fingers catching on
the waist of his trousers. Every throbbing inch of his cock jerked toward her hand.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she whispered.

He thought perhaps he should object—surely they’d both regret their actions come morning
—but then she began to unbutton his flies, and Snape’s mouth refused to raise the alarms. He
couldn’t call her off. Not with her pawing at his cock like that. Her fingers were far too
nimble, so nimble in fact that she had his trousers open before the shocked inhalation could
fully whip through his teeth. Slipping her soft fingers down the top of his boxers, she caught
hold of his length in one hand, and Severus almost came all over her.

“Miss Granger!” he spluttered, snagging her wrist before she could go any further.

“Yes?” She looked up at him, her eyes wide and innocent.

“Has no one ever taught you the joys of patience?” he asked raggedly.

She smiled and tightened her grip. “Do you really want to lecture me about patience right
now?”

Breathing deeply, Snape flexed his arm to stop her from stroking him. “I’d rather you not
walk away from this thinking I have the restraint of a teenager. If this is really what you want,
at least let me get my clothes off first.”

With a cheeky grin, she released him and gracefully leaned back. Her hands went to her
robes, and he watched in amazement as she pulled open the front, baring her newly restored
tits to him with absolutely none of her earlier reluctance.

He could only describe her unaltered body as stunning, and he could understand why she’d
been so disturbed by the Curse of the Mistletoe Titties. While she’d certainly never be
mistaken for a centerfold, her normal breasts were far superior to their cursed cousins, and he
found himself spellbound by mother nature’s artistry.

“What do you think, are they okay?” she asked, her eyes rising to meet his.

He tilted his head to the side, the ability to blink escaping him. “They do seem more …
tenable now.”

She smirked. “Tenable?”

His hand moved on it own accord. Snape watched in fascination as the backs of his fingers
brushed down the slope of her breast and then skidded over her stiff nipple. It felt as though
his hand belonged to someone else, except that a shock of electric pleasure skittered through
his skin, a sensation that, if sustained, would surely drive him mad. And she must have felt it,
too, because she shivered and closed her eyes, her expression one of unexpected delight.

Severus reversed direction and cupped the underside, savoring the weight and warmth against
his palm. “Is tenable not appropriate? Are they not more manageable now … easier to
… handle?”

She gasped when the blunt edge of his thumbnail glided around the curve of her areola.
“Severus …”
Mesmerized, he gently pinched her nipple between his middle and index fingers. “Yes, Miss
Granger?”

“Call me Hermione.”

“Very well. Yes, Hermione?”

Swallowing loudly, she blinked open her eyes and looked up at him. “Stop teasing and take
me to bed.”

A swell of nervous energy surged through his stomach. “Are you certain?”

She moved in closer, right up against him. With one hand, she stroked his scarred neck, her
touch unbearably soft. The tips of her fingers drifted down over his chest, where she paused
to pick at a lonely button. “I’m very sure. Do you want to stop?”

“Not particularly.”

Hermione puffed out a breathy smile. “Really, because you look a little anxious.”

“I’m not anxious. It’s just that you’ve caught me off guard. I didn’t expect to …”

“Shag a colleague after a stressful day of brewing and curse reversal?”

His mouth twitched into a half smile. “Yes. And I didn’t expect this kind of behavior from
you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And what kind of behavior is that?”

He saw the warning in her eye and quickly clarified. “The kind of behavior where you’re
attracted to me. The kind of behavior where you want a wizard like me at all.”

“Severus,” she said, her gaze softening, “why do you think I came to you with my problem
today?”

“Because I’m the Potions master?”

She goggled at him, disbelief all over her face. “I came here because I trust you … because I
knew that—even if you laughed at me—you’d still help. I mean … you’d already seen me at
my worst; we spent an entire two months together at St. Mungo’s locked up on a protected
ward. I saw you come out of your coma, and I read to you every day until you regained your
strength. Do you think I don’t consider you a friend after all that?“

“So, you sought me out on purpose? I wasn’t just a necessary evil?”

“Severus …” She shook her head with a small smile. “Do you honestly think I could kiss you
like that if you were any kind of evil? Do you think I just decided to kiss you because you
happened to be convenient?”
“You didn’t?” he asked, then wanted to smack himself in the head. Of course she hadn’t. He’d
never met a witch who thought things through more thoroughly than she did; she analyzed
everything from every angle, did endless practice runs in her mind to make sure she’d
planned for every contingency! Which meant …

“You’ve thought about this before,” he said, sounding almost as bewildered as he felt.
“You’ve thought about me—thought about kissing me—before you ever stepped foot under
that cursed mistletoe. Merlin’s beard, you … you want me.”

Her face flamed pink, but she didn’t look away. “So what if I do? Is that a problem?”

Severus blinked, utterly flabbergasted by the revelation.

Sliding her hand from his chest down to his boxers, she trailed a finger along his cotton-
covered length, which jerked to attention and began to weep profusely. “I got the impression
you wouldn’t be averse to my wants,” she confessed with a note of uncertainty. “Was I
wrong?”

He swallowed hard. The possibility of Granger had always seemed too farfetched to
entertain. He was too old for her, and she was too pure for him. Despite their time in hospital
together, he couldn’t override his sense of self-preservation, and he’d filed away any and all
tender feelings in the deepest recesses of his heart—until he’d convinced himself that he truly
felt nothing. But now she stood before him, laying it all on the line, and he couldn’t bring
himself to deny the truth, not in the face of such honesty.

Severus dropped both hands to her waist and pulled her body against his. “As usual, Miss
Granger, you’re not wrong.”

She gasped at the contact and then smiled up at him. “I told you to call me Hermione.”

Smirking, Severus dipped down and pressed his lips to hers, luxuriating in the give and take
of her mouth, a new weightless freedom in his chest. “I suspect I’ll need practice to break the
habit,” he murmured. “Granger rolls off the tongue so much more easily than Hermione.”

“You know what else rolls off the tongue?” she countered suggestively, her fingers flying
down his chest, undoing his shirt with shaky but effective haste.

“There are far too many suitable answers to that riddle,” Snape said with a laughing leer.
“But perhaps if you lie down on the bed, we can test a few and decide on the best answer.”

Eyes ablaze, she shrugged off her robes and went to undo her jeans. Severus pulled off his
own shirt, but kept close to her, worried that if he moved too far away, she might vanish into
thin air, a figment of his imagination. Kicking off his shoes, he pushed down his trousers and
stripped off both socks in rapid succession.

Granger kept her gaze glued to his body as she wiggled out of her jeans, and, judging by her
heavy breathing, she liked what she saw. Severus couldn’t imagine why. He wasn’t a young
man anymore. His body was scarred and still too thin. The house elves had done a decent job
helping him gain weight when he got back to the school, but he still had that hardened look
of too much gristle and bone. While she, on the other hand, looked like nothing but soft skin
and rounded angles. She wasn’t what he’d call voluptuous, but she had more than enough
padding to keep them both comfortable.

With a fair amount of grace, she got out of her socks and shoes then smoothly kicked aside
her denims. But when she went to pull off her lacy purple knickers, Severus stopped her.

“I can do that for you.”

Her lips twittered into a nervous smile. She nodded.

“Come over here.”

Taking her hand, he led her to the bed. The hangings had been left tied back that morning,
and the thick green material blended into the aged ebony. He’d never realized how uninviting
his bed appeared until that very moment. If the interior were any darker it would look as
though he slept in a cave. Maybe the students were right, perhaps he was a bit of a bat.

Summoning his wand, he lit the few candles he had on the shelves, and then duplicated them
until they provided suitable illumination. Hermione smiled at him and used her wand to make
the candles float through the air; they hovered in a loose circle around them, giving the room
a strangely ethereal feel.

“They’ll stay there until I cancel the charm,” she told him.

Severus nodded and set his wand on the bedside table. “It looks nice.”

“I use it when I take a bath,” she rambled, clearly nervous. “So I can read in the tub.”

Snape’s brow rose. “Dirty talk will get you everywhere, Miss Granger.”

She smiled. “Hermione.”

“Damn,” he muttered. “Hermione.”

Taking her wand for her and setting it with his own, he nodded at the bed. Granger blushed
but eagerly sat on the edge, then, thinking better of it, scooted further across and laid back
against the pillows. Her hair—somewhat calmer since the breast reduction—fanned around
her in fluffy chestnut curlicues, and she squirmed against his dark counterpane, her skin
standing out in warm contrast against the black void.

The beauty of the tableau stole his breath, and Severus stared at her for a moment, absently
rubbing his heart to encourage a semi-regular beat. She had one long scar that cut across her
torso and two smaller scars on her abdomen. He’d seen the one on her arm before, left there
by Bellatrix, but he’d never seen the others. It felt overly intimate to be shown these unseen
parts of her. And he couldn’t help thinking that she looked like some kind of wild warrior
goddess—battle-scarred but not at all diminished. She was survival personified.

Hermione smiled and extended her hand toward him. “It’s all right. I’m scared, too.”
“I’m not scared,” he said automatically. “I’m just not used to seeing a willing witch spread
out on my bed.”

She smiled, embarrassed but clearly pleased. “Are you sure about that? Even with your Order
of Merlin First Class? I saw the way Madame Rosmerta was chatting you up at the pub last
week.”

Snape’s lip flickered to a cautious smirk, and he settled into the space next to her. Had she
been watching him? And was his Gryffindor spy jealous?

Gliding his hand across her naked belly, Snape caught her hip and rolled her toward him so
they were face-to-face. “I’m not interested in Rosmerta.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

Her hand slipped down between them, grazing the tented cotton of his boxers. “So … you’re
not sleeping with her … or anyone else?”

Snape tucked his fingers under the border of her knicker elastic and gently nudged them
down. “I am not currently involved with anyone else, romantically or sexually.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Me either.”

With a daring grin, she slid her leg over his hip and drew him forward, using the added
leverage to grind against him. His whole body pulsed with adrenaline, and Severus responded
to the rush by shoving his hand down the back of her knickers. His fingers found their way to
her shadowed divide, and he slowly followed the path down into the cove between her thighs.
Apparently the tide had come in.

Hermione plunged forward and kissed him again, the force of it startling. Deliciously so. She
pushed at his boxers with one hand, and Severus did his best to shimmy out of them while
maintaining contact with her lips. He had to roll on top of her a bit to get them down, a
position that she took full advantage of, rolling them further, so she was on her back and he
was naked atop her, his pants around his knees. Using her feet, she pushed his boxers down to
his ankles so he could kick them to the floor.

Her hands were all over him, and he could scarcely believe how good it felt when she sank
her nails into his back. No doubt he’d regret all that ardor the next day, but for the time being,
the sting left him high as a runaway racing broom.

Pulling his lips from hers, he fought to slow his breathing. “Your knickers are rubbing me
raw.”

“Then you’d better take them off,” she panted back.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Severus pushed himself up and sat back on his heels. His erection bobbed in the open air, and
she licked her lips when she saw it, which did absolutely nothing to help calm his breathing.
Hooking his fingers around the elastic at the sides, Severus gave her little knickers a tug, and
she lifted her hips to aid in their removal. His gaze remained focused on the unveiling,
aroused beyond measure by the dark vee of curls between her legs. Her parted slit appeared
visibly excited, the tissue pink and plump, and when he pulled away her underwear, she
spread her legs for him, blessing him with the most explicit proof of her arousal imaginable.

Sweet Circe, she was so wet he could smell her. The air hung heavy with musky sweetness,
like sex and sugar quills. The heady aroma made his mouth water and his brain spin.
Following his nose, he lowered himself to his belly, and when his face was hovering over her
mound, he glanced up to check her reaction. She looked stoned, her eyelids heavy, her chest
rising and falling with each ragged breath. Both her pupils had spread to inky black puddles,
all the brown obliterated. His cock must have found that particularly agreeable, because it
began to drip so prodigiously Severus felt as though he’d sprung a leak.

Pressing his nose to her furry slit, he inhaled deeply. She squeaked in surprise, and he tipped
back his head to watch her. It was an odd angle, but he needed to see all that tightly-wound
control slipping away.

She met his eye. Then blushed. Holding her gaze, he gave a testing lick, and when she threw
back her head, emitting a garbled shout, Severus grinned and dove in. He did his best to
watch her as his tongue slithered through her folds, but all he really wanted to do was close
his eyes and get lost in her depths. Her juice was like a drug, and he intended to overdose.

He lapped at her, his tongue wide, scooping up the musky cream at her entrance and swiping
all the way up to her swollen clit. She whimpered each time he circled the peak, so he
lingered there longer with each pass. When he sucked her nub into his mouth, she spewed out
a stream of incoherent praise that made him want to laugh and come in equal measure.

“Severus!” Her hand shot into his hair.

The scrape of her nails sent a shockwave of pleasure down his spine, and Snape groaned into
her, his balls pulling tight.

“I’m close,” she panted. “Don’t stop!”

He sucked her clit a little harder, and she arched off the bed. Her thighs quivered against his
face, her whole body trembling as if her core had been set to vibrate. She shouted his name, a
broken cry of relief, and proceeded to buck against his tongue to the beat of her pulsing sex.

A thrill of pleasure and pride suffused his heart, the glow of it strong enough to warm his
face. He’d never caused anyone to make a sound like that before, and the satisfaction of
doing so with a woman like Granger felt doubly sweet. This outstandingly brave and
intelligent witch had proclaimed him worthy, and for some reason he wanted to prove her
right. Although he’d been presented with countless medals and accolades after the war, the
public’s praise felt superficial; but this—having Granger coming all over his mouth, her body
throbbing with heat and life—that felt real. And it made him feel real.
For the first time in a very long time, Severus felt grateful to be alive.

As she came down from her high, several rogue tremors shook her body, and Snape lifted his
head to watch. He absently wiped at his wet chin with one hand and realized that half his face
was covered in her slippery passion. Even his nose had been glazed. She blushed when she
saw him shining with her lust, though her embarrassment seemed to be tempered by
amusement. She laughed when his tongue curled up to lick the cream from his upper lip.

Snape grinned. “Would you like more?”

She nodded.

Watching her closely, Severus slipped a single finger past her engorged entrance. She
groaned, spreading her legs wider, and the glistening pink of her pussy shone in the
candlelight. Snape smirked and added another finger. Her body didn’t object. On the contrary,
her inner muscles greeted him with a slick squeeze.

He tried another finger.

“Severuuuuuus,” she whimpered, her hips grinding in an eager circle.

He looked up. “Are you ready? I can—“

“I’m ready!” She reached down and gripped his wrist to push his fingers even deeper. “Are
you? Do you want me to suck you first? I can—AHHHhhhh!”

Severus curled his fingers back and forth a few more times before slowly pulling out. “You’ll
have to show me your oral skills later,” he said with some regret, “when I actually need
them.”

Hermione smiled broadly as he slowly kissed his way up her body. He took a slight detour to
taste her nipples, which she encouraged, her hands grasping at his neck and shoulders as she
breathed his praises on a steady loop.

“I didn’t know you were so—Oh!” she gasped.

He released her nipple with a pop of suction and glanced up. “You didn’t know I was
so what?”

“So … orally generous,” she panted. “Merlin’s balls, Severus!”

Pleased by her assessment, he crawled up to face her, his hips settling between her open
thighs. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? I could warm you up at bit more before we
begin.”

“If I get any warmer, I’m gonna set the bed on fire!” Eschewing any pretense of polite
patience, she reached down between them and wrapped her fingers around his shaft.

Severus hissed but couldn’t resist thrusting into her tight grip. Her teeth sank into her lower
lip, and she appeared to be concentrating very hard as she swiped his head through her folds.
Severus hissed louder, shocked by how good it felt to be bathed in her wet heat. He wasn’t
even inside her yet, and already his body crackled with tension, ready to explode.

“Slowly,” he warned her.

Nodding, she guided him into the pocket of her entrance and then—blessedly— went still.
“Okay. I’m ready. Don’t go in too fast, though. It’s been a while … I’ll need time to adjust.”

He had absolutely no intention of plowing into her. He’d never be able to withstand that kind
of sensory overload; it would end him before he began. And he certainly didn’t want to hurt
her or cause her to her regret her desire for him. He didn’t want to waste this opportunity to
be something unexpected, something good.

Sweet Circe, he’d never wanted to be so good for anyone in his entire life. And he didn’t
know how to feel about that.

Severus shifted forward ever so slightly and winced as he inched into the ring of satin fire at
her entrance. Her mouth fell open, a gasp in the back of her throat. Her brown eyes went
wide, but she kept her hand steady around his cock. She didn’t try to pull away or stop him,
which he assumed she would if he started to hurt her.

It took an absolute eternity to ease inside her, but he didn’t dare accelerate the process. It
already felt as though he had an extra heartbeat in his knob, and it didn’t seem wise to push
that pounding pulse any faster.

When he was halfway in, she released his sex and wound both arms around his back. At first
she ran her hands along his spine, which he found rather soothing, but the deeper he went, the
more desperate her stroking became. By the time his glans brushed her cervix, marking how
deep he could go, she was clutching at his back, her fingers boring into the muscle, her nails
like cat claws.

“Are you all right?” he asked, not sounding too steady himself.

“Yeah,” she whispered tightly. “Just … give me a minute, okay?”

He nodded.

She swallowed hard, and he saw that her eyes had far more shine than they had when he
started.

“I’m hurting you,” he said, horrified he’d missed the warning signs. “Let me—“

“No!” She squeezed her legs around his hips so he couldn’t pull out. “I’m okay. I promise.
It’s just … more intense than I was expecting. It feels like you’re all the way up in my chest,
like you’re fucking my heart.”

Her tone suggested she meant that in a good way. An encouraging smile flickered over her
face, but when it faded, her forehead scrunched back up in an anxious knot. Severus shifted
his weight to one elbow and raised his other hand to her face. He gently stroked her cheek
with the pad of his thumb and then leaned down to kiss the worried pucker from her brow.
“Would you prefer to be on top?” he asked. “It might help your body relax if you’re in
control. I know you said you don’t like being restrained in any way.”

“No,” she breathed. “This is good—really. Try moving a little.”

He pulled out ever so slightly and then curled his hips to slip back in.

“Mmmm!” Her nails pricked his back.

“Was that a good mmm, or a bad mmm?” Severus asked, utterly unsure.

“Good,” she said through gritted teeth. “Do it again.”

He did, inhaling sharply when she began to wiggle beneath him. It felt as if she wanted to
buck and ride but was afraid to move. Her hips barely shifted, yet the internal change felt like
a liquid fist rippling along his length. Following her request, he gently pulled out a little then
thrust back in, just enough to bump the back of her passage.

“Yes,” she whispered, her breath warm against his lips. “That’s good. Just a little faster.”

The tip of Snape’s tailbone started to hum with warning, an inner tension that foretold his
doom. When his bollocks began to rise, he closed his eyes and breathed as deeply as he could
in an effort to forestall their race to the finish. He moved inside her with purpose, his pelvis
tight against her clit to help nudge her in the right direction.

She was doing a lot of the work herself, though, grinding hard at the top of each thrust. It felt
as if she’d bathed his entire groin in slippery oil, which muted the friction in a strange way,
his cock coated in a silken buffer. Buoyed by the sloppy wet squelch of every incursion, his
confidence soared, and a hesitant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. But he knew he
couldn’t celebrate yet, because his cock loved the sound even more than his ears, and the
threat of beating her to the finish line suddenly seemed inevitable.

Desperate, Severus lowered his lips to her ear. “Are you close?”

“Oh gods!” she muttered, her hips moving even faster. “Say it again.”

His brow dipped, confused as to why he need repeat himself. “I asked if you’re close.
Because I don’t know how much longer I can last—you feel too good.” He had to stop
talking to catch his breath. “I’ll eat your pussy after this and make you come again … as
many times as you want … as many times as you can stand.”

She whimpered, and her restrained bucking became more vicious. “Severus … I’m so close.
Keep talking … tell me to come … tell me what you want to do to me.”

It suddenly clicked. She wanted to hear him talk—explicitly. He’d found his golden ticket.

Severus closed his eyes and prayed for the right words to appear in his mouth. He didn’t
know how to sex-talk a witch, and he had no desire to make a fool of himself. But if she just
needed him to tell her what he wanted, he supposed he could work it out. He’d talked his way
through far more dangerous missions—ones with far less favorable conclusions.
“Come for me, Miss Granger.

“Hermione,” she corrected breathlessly.

“Hermione,” he repeated, gasping as the tension in his balls wound tight. “I want you … to
come all over me. Let me feel you.”

“Mmmmm,” a needy whine echoed behind her lips. Her legs flexed against his hips.

Feeling more confident, Severus took a deep breath and made a quick decision about what
direction to take with the commentary. “You’re so wet. It sounds as though this little pussy is
begging to come.”

That must have been a good one, because she cried out, and her channel contracted around
him.

“That’s it,” he hissed, “let go … give me everything you have. I can feel you getting close.
You’re right on the edge, aren’t you?”

It wasn’t really a question—they both knew she was—but she frantically nodded nonetheless.

“Yessss,” he murmured. “Are you ready for me to fuck you harder now?”

She nodded again, her breathing shaky and fast.

Bracing himself, Snape added a touch of speed, which almost backfired and did him in.
Luckily her moaning drowned out his own.

“Don’t hold back,” he growled in her ear. “I want to feel you coming all over my cock … do
you understand me? I want my name on your lips. I want the whole damn school to hear you.
I want this pussy flooding the bed for me.”

She whimpered and sank her nails into his shoulder.

“I’m going to fuck you in every corner of this dungeon,” he panted, “and you’re going to
come for me … all … night … long.

“Mmm-aaAAHH!” Her strangled moan opened to a shout, and she rode him from below, no
longer restrained at all.

Her inner muscles wrenched out a furious rhythm, and Snape hissed into her hair, his face
pressed to the pillow. White light exploded behind his eyelids, and he groaned as the pressure
in his sac finally burst—relief surged from his cock in what felt like geysers of semen. He
knew he couldn’t possibly have that much fluid in his balls, but, at the same time, was
positive he wouldn’t be able to see straight when it was all over.

“Sev-er-us!”

He shuddered against her, the pleasure pulsing through his body like rays of light, and he felt
a trickle of sweat skate down his neck, a paradoxical tickle amidst the bombardment of
intensity. He was suddenly aware of how hot they both were, the perspiration slick between
them, but he had no intention of getting up—not even when it was over. He liked the way she
felt beneath him, the plush warmth of her body, the soft press of her breasts against his chest,
her heart thudding with his. It felt as though he’d finally found a place where he truly
belonged.

Her thighs started to relax, but her pussy continued to flutter around him in a smattering of
applause. The little aftershocks that wracked her body made his tired scrotum shiver in reply,
and he smiled at each quaking curtain call. It took a couple minutes before he realized that, in
his state of sexual stupor, he was probably crushing her, so he did his best to take his weight
off her chest without losing too much contact.

“No,” she panted. “Stay. I like it.”

Snape turned his face toward her temple, his eyes half closed, his brain comfortably numb.
“Can you breathe?”

“Enough.”

“Are you all right?”

She exhaled an exhausted laugh. “I’m outstanding. How ‘bout you?”

“I suspect you’ve lacerated my back, but I’ve never been happier about an injury.”

Wheezing with silent laughter, she ran her hands lightly over his skin. “Many apologies. I’ll
heal you when we get up.”

“No need. I look forward to the scars. They’ll be a nice reminder of the day Hermione
Granger ravaged me over Christmas break.”

“It was a nice start to the holidays, wasn’t it?” she said with a contented sigh.

Severus smiled. “Perhaps we should send a thank you note to Peeves. I have a feeling he’d be
horrified to find out his prank had such unexpected consequences.”

“Good lord,” she muttered. “Don’t you dare. I have no desire to hear him singing ‘We Wish
You a Merry Fuck-mas’ to the whole school. We’d never hear the end of it.”

Severus snorted into her hair. “True.”

“Now that you mention it, it is nice to know we have a couple weeks all to ourselves.” She
turned her head slightly. “You want to do this again, don’t you? That wasn’t just an idle
promise you made in the heat of the moment, was it?”

“You’ll have to give me some time to recover first, but that was most definitely not an idle
promise. I was thinking you should probably sleep over for a few days—your rooms are
so very far away … a needlessly dangerous journey in this weather.”
Snickering, she wrapped both arms around his waist. “Are we just shagging or do you think
we could do some other things?”

“Like what?”

“Like … discuss that article in Brewer’s Quarterly on Pufferpod spores in healing potions?
Argue about books? Maybe go to Hogsmeade? Snog in the library?”

Smiling to himself, Severus kept his voice even. “That all sounds acceptable. Except I
shudder to think what Pince would do if she caught us snogging in her library.”

“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you what else I want to do in there.”

“Hmm,” he hummed approvingly, “I had no idea Gryffindors were so perverse. Recklessness

does have its perks, I suppose.”

“I’m not reckless. I’m just open to a little adventure to get what I’m after.”

“And what are you after?”

“I think that’s rather obvious. Or do you just want to hear me say it?”

“I like to know what I’m getting myself into.”

“I guess I just want to see what it’s like being with Severus Snape on a personal level …
when he lets down his guard a little,” she said after a thoughtful pause. “I mean, yeah, you
can be a bit of a prick sometimes, but I like your snark; it makes me laugh—at least it does
when you’re not aiming it at me. Plus I like talking to you; your mind turns me on. And—
bonus points—your voice makes me very wet. I think we work well together, don’t you?”

Snape’s eyebrows rose, that tidbit about his voice making her wet softening the bluntness of
her initial critique. “As long as you can admit you’re a bit of a know-it-all sometimes, I can
admit that I also appreciate your intelligence … and passion. And I like the way your eyes
flare when you’re riled up.”

“No bonus points?”

Snape smirked. “Bonus points … you taste amazing.”

Laughing, she ruffled a hand through his hair. “I thought after the day we’ve had, you’d give
the bonus points to my breasts.”

Severus snorted. “A punchline wasted.”

“No, no,” she murmured. “I like your honesty. I encourage you to taste me whenever the
mood strikes.”

She lay there quietly for several minutes, stroking his back and lightly scratching his scalp
with the tips of her nails. His cock started to deflate but, for the moment, remained warm and
safe inside her. Snape started to drift off, but then she turned and kissed his forehead, which
pulled him back from the edge of sleep.

“Severus?’’

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry I said you were a bit of a prick. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

He opened one eye. “I wasn’t offended. I am a bit of a prick.”

She smiled. “I like you a lot.”

His face went hot; he closed his eye again, pretending to be too tired to talk.

“Happy Christmas,” she whispered and kissed his nose.

He smirked. “Happy Christmas, Miss Granger.”

“Hermione.”

He growled under his breath. “Dammit!”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get plenty of practice moaning my name later.”

“Mmm,” he purred, smiling into her neck. “A very happy Christmas, indeed.”
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