He was a bloody fool is what he was.

Albus had to be pulling his leg.

And yet.

What if he wasn’t?

What if the key to things running smoothly was as he said?

That begged the question of what Albus had done, which made Severus shudder. The former headmaster was far less … particular than Severus was. (He imagined Albus would not think this was a bad thing.)

His … choice made her way up the stairs to his office. He stood from his place at the desk, shaking his head at the fact that there wasn’t an empty portrait in the room currently.

Even Phineas Black was present.

Busybodies!

Crossing the room, he met her as she entered the room.

"You sent for me, Headmaster."

He scowled. She couldn’t even call him by his name. He’d told her to several times now. That could not bode well for this … succeeding.

"I did. You are having a good evening?"

She frowned slightly, her brow furrowing.

"I am. And you?" She sounded confused. An unusual sound for this witch.

"Yes, thank you."

"Have I done something wrong already?" she asked.

He could tell that she truly thought that she might have. As if. He wouldn’t have hired her if he thought she would underperform. (It helped that Minerva basically said that she was retiring and wanted Hermione Granger as her replacement.)

"Not at all. As you know, this is my first year back in the position."

"Yes," she said.

"I have been made aware that there is an … initiation I did not complete during my first time as headmaster."

He’d had two years off to recover from his wounds, with Minerva and Filius acting as joint heads in his absence.

"Okay," she said. It was probably the least he’d heard her say in all of the years he’d known her.

"Severus," Albus’ voice came from behind him.

He sighed. Yes, yes, time to get on with it. He’d hoped. Well, he wasn’t sure what he’d hoped.

He slid his hands to her forearms and she gave a startled gasp as he drew her against him, lowering his mouth to hers.

He was expecting a slap or for her to bite his lip to get him to stop. Something to display her rejection.

He was not expecting her soft mewl into the kiss as she slid her hands to his neck. Her thumbs grazed the edges of his neck before her fingertips found the nape of his neck.

She tasted like … oranges, and spices he really couldn’t care to figure out at the moment, which made him realize she must have been drinking tea before he’d summoned her. Her favorite tea currently had been her mum’s favorite, he knew, and she didn’t let her inventory run out.

Her lips parted ever so slightly, enough he could slide his tongue along her lower lip and dip inside. Her tongue met his, darted away as if uncertain, and returned again. Her lips parted a bit more and both groaned at the feel and taste of one another.

They shifted their mouths a bit, the sound almost vulgar, which she seemed to find amusing. At least that was what he assumed she gave a low laugh about. She nipped his tongue and he thrust it in and out of her mouth slowly as she pressed herself closer against him.

She’d been dressed in denims and a t-shirt, no robes, so it was very easy to feel the swell of her breasts against him with her doing that. One hand released his hold on her arm and slid to her cheek, cupping it to tilt her head a bit more as he deepened the kiss.

Finally, they had to take a breath and she rested her forehead against his chin before looking at him again.

He expected reproach, or very possibly the slap that hadn’t happened moments ago when he’d very intentionally invaded her personal space.

Her reaching up to resume the kiss hadn’t entered his mind. Why would she want to kiss him, after all?

She was his only option, if Albus was not having a laugh at his expense. There was no one else he would even consider doing this with. (He knew what that meant, but he hadn’t totally acknowledged that part of things yet.)

Her lips parted almost before his did as he slid his hand under her t-shirt. She bit his lower lip, which almost made him stop touching her until she licked the spot very much as a cat would. So, the bite wasn’t an effort to tell him to stop.

Fuck, she was warm under his palm. His thumb grazed along her upper abdomen, feeling a bit of raised skin there and he realized he must be feeling the scar she’d received from Anton. A scar he’d been instrumental in her having, as without his efforts she’d likely have joined the list of deceased Order members. And wouldn’t have been alive to help Harry Potter during his hunt.

He pushed the shirt up as his hand slid up along her side. He drew away from her lips and she gave a soft whimper in response.

He cleared his throat as he lifted the shirt over her head and off, dropping it beside her. She gave a slight shiver. Maybe she’d still run away screaming, but he had to tell her the truth.

"Hermione," he said softly.

"Mm," she said.

"Look at me."

"I am," she said.

"My face," he said as she was currently focused on his shoulders and chest. Not that he was dissatisfied with her attentions being there. In fact, he was rather pleased about it, truthfully. It was why he had … invited her here this evening. He thought his feelings of attraction were reciprocated. He just thought that asking her on a date might be too much given he’d just returned to the position and everything. He figured if he still thought they were in place next year, or the following year, he’d take the chance.

Evidently, Merlin, God, or whoever, didn’t want him putting it off that long.

"Yes," she said, eyes fluttering to meet his.

He cleared his throat.

"I have been told that in order for me to be completely accepted as headmaster I must…"

"Sex magic," she whispered.

"Well, I believe it’s the pheromones. The lust, the blending of climactic fluids with the castle’s magic, but yes."

Her eyes moved so she was looking behind him. She hadn’t run screaming at least.

"With an audience, I take it."

"I could ask them to leave, but they will merely hover near their frames anyway."

She smirked a bit at that. Amusement and not shock or revulsion was good. Wasn’t it?

"Just the once?"

"Well, no, if you think I just want…" That wasn’t at all what he wanted.

She set her fingertips over his lips, silencing him.

"Oh, trust me, Severus, I plan to shag you senseless now that you’ve taken this step."

Well, that statement both aroused and surprised him.

"You are a progressive witch…"

"That may be true. And with someone like Justin that might be a good thing. You are not Justin, though. Nor are you progressive. I did not want my attentions swatted away because you viewed my coming to sit on your lap during our next meeting as being too forward."

She didn’t? She wanted to sit on his lap?

Merlin.

Yes, yes. He wanted that, too.

"So what is your question?"

"Is it just the once that has to be in here? With the portraits?"

"Albus," he called out. If his friend said no, he might just explode. He couldn’t see her agreeing to such a thing indefinitely.

"Just the once," Albus confirmed.

She dropped her hands into his then, and he followed as she led him to his chair. He wasn’t sure in this lifetime he ever envisioned Hermione Granger pushing him to sit in the chair behind the headmaster’s desk.

Well, pushing him into the chair maybe he could have envisioned.

Her working the zip on his trousers without any hesitation once he was seated in it was definitely unexpected.

She took his length into her mouth, no doubt hearing as his breathing changed. Soft groans escaped his mouth. No one had ever done this to him before. Hell, he wasn’t sure he would have ever let anyone do this before now. His hands grabbed onto the arms of the antiquated chair that had been used by at least Dippet and Dumbledore as he thrust himself in and out of her mouth, timing his thrusts with her own.

She gave a soft groan while still engulfing him at hearing murmuring in the portraits. They were quite enjoying the show. All of them. Even Derwent hadn’t huffed in indignation. She was a prude, even on her best days.

Hell, Severus was enjoying the show. She worked his length into her mouth as deep as she could. Her eyes would meet his then as she squeezed him with her throat before sliding off of him again. A time or two she’d slide her mouth off of him completely, as if wanting to give the portraits a view of him hard and slick from her efforts.

The murmurings, verbal proof they weren’t entirely alone in here, didn't stop her from wanting to see this through evidently. He got more than a little excited at her enthusiasm. He never imagined people truly wanting to do such a thing. He’d heard others talk of it, obviously, but most seemed to suggest their partner’s didn’t really enjoy it.

His groans turned into muttering, foreign sounding to his own ears, the more aroused he got. Likely his thrusts growing more frantic against her mouth gave her the information she needed. He was close. Very close. His hands shot off the arms of the chair, brushing her hair away from her face as he gave one final thrust. "Hermione," he murmured. That was all the warning or chance to pull away she had before he shot off in her mouth in a series of quick thrusts. She swallowed as much as she could, licking him clean of any she'd missed when she released him from her mouth.

He looked at her then, looking for any sign she hadn’t enjoyed that. That she regretted doing it. He didn’t see anything like that there. He reached, grazing her lower lip with his thumb, swiping a bit of his spend away in the process. She parted her lips, licking the pad of his thumb.

She gave a startled gasp when he lifted her to him then, kissing her. Their lips parted, tongues meeting, and he gave a groan at the taste of himself on her tongue. He liked that. A lot. She seemed to, too, for that matter.

"Your turn," he whispered, standing from the chair and helping her to sit in it. The chair was still warm and looked rather … large with her seated in it. She watched as he worked the fastening on her denims, helping by lifting her hips once he started sliding them and her knickers down. "No peeking," he said, amusement lacing his voice as he slid the denims over her hips and off.

"Wouldn't dare," she quipped, just in time with his tongue grazing her folds. She was already slick and wet for him. That was immensely arousing. And inspiring. He knew she was lying about not peeking, because he’d watched just about every second of what she was doing to him. She was the curious type, too, so would want to see. It was her turn to grip the arms of the chair as he licked and sucked, familiarizing with the taste of her. And her reactions to the various things he did. She bit her lip, to the point of drawing blood, in an attempt to keep quiet as he slid a finger inside of her to assist. He chose to circle her nub with his tongue at the same time as a second finger joined the first. It had the desired effect, bringing about her release quickly and hard. He was certain if he wasn't there to support her she'd slide right out of the chair.

Only when he drew away from her, running a fingertip along her thigh, did she stop biting her lip. He reached up to kiss her, slow and nice. He hoped nice anyway. Nothing reflecting what they'd just done. And why. And with various former headmasters and headmistresses watching. She seemed as enthusiastic about kissing him after he’d used his mouth on her as he was earlier.

"You are bleeding," he whispered.

"It'll heal."

"I apologize for indirectly causing you harm."

She smiled widely, licking the spot on her lower lip slowly, deliberately, seductively. She watched as his eyes closed and listened as he groaned softly.

"Well, in that case, apology accepted," she murmured. She leaned in a bit, kissing his upper lip and the corner of his mouth. "Now, is that enough so we can go to your bed and finish what we’ve started?"

He shook his head, leaning down a bit to kiss her thigh and then her hip. He hadn’t asked about that. Foolish not to, but he truly never imagined she’d be okay with this. At least not here and now, the first time he told her of the initiation process.

"Albus?" he murmured.

"It should be fine, Severus."

"Should be?"

"I can’t say that anyone has done what the two of you did. However, the pheromones were released and the climaxes achieved."

"You’re telling me you all had sex…" He shook his head, glancing at Hermione who didn’t seem to enjoy the thought of that idea any more than he did.

"I’m getting a new chair."

"Tomorrow," she said.

"And probably a new desk," he said, glancing now at the desk in question. And the possibilities of what they could have done on it if Albus had said oral gratification wasn’t sufficient.

"Tomorrow."

"Yes, Witch. Let’s go release some more pheromones."

"Oh, I don’t know, the climax being achieved again was more what I was looking for."

He snorted softly. As did a few of the portraits.

"I’ll see to that, too."

"Excellent."

He helped her with her denims then before offering her his hand to stand from the chair. He leaned in then, cupping her cheek before kissing her. She reached up on her tiptoes, hand going to the side of his neck as she kissed him back.

"Severus," she said. There was an urgency to her town that would have been amusing any other time.

"Demanding woman."

"Mm," she said and then let out a squeal of surprise as he picked her up, carrying her in his arms to his bedroom.

He had no plans on seeing his office, or the nosy portraits, again until morning.

~The End~

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com