Bubble Bath

Chapter 1

By Shiv

Hermione stared blankly at the wall. It was so nice not having to think about anything, not about Harry, not about Ron and above all not about the impending NEWTS. “Odd that I should dread those most of all, when once I would have looked forward to them”, she thought.

It should be a sign of returning to normality, of returning to being children for a while before going out into the wide world all bright eyed and eager. But it wasn’t working like that. The truth was Hogwarts was too small for them now, like outgrowing a favourite pair of shoes, and they were beginning to chafe at the restrictions placed on them.

How could they take seriously rules about the Forbidden Forest, when they had faced and defeated greater dangers than whatever lurked there? How could they take detention with Filch seriously after Lucius Malfoy? She smiled a very Snape-like smile at the thought of Malfoy locked up in Azkaban.

Ron said that she and Snape had been spending too much time together and she was picking up too many of his bad habits. She had enjoyed the look of shock on his face when he thought she was serious about taking ten points off Gryffindor for “lack of respect towards a teacher”. The three of them had collapsed into giggles, and they had laughed, really laughed, for the first time since Voldemort.

Maybe they would never be innocent children again – but when had they ever been afforded that luxury anyway? The first week at Hogwarts? The second maybe? – but they would find their way back to something. And they still had each other.

Not just each other either.

Harry had Lavender. Who would have thought silly Lavender would have been the one to bring Harry out of his isolation. Ron had his family who hadn’t let him dwell on anything for a second, and he had Luna who gave him …well….goodness only knew.

And she had Severus. Sort of.

In a spirit of rebellion, Hermione summoned a bottle of champagne. What did she have to celebrate? Reaching the end of another week without hexing someone into oblivion when they asked for her help in revising? Read the bloody book, she wanted to shout. Read your notes, ask your teacher, just leave…me…alone.

Of course she couldn’t, and she didn’t, but she wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. And so she had started spending more and more time down in the dungeons with Snape. No one bothered her there, and he didn’t expect her to CONFORM - to be a good little Head Girl.

At first they had sat in silence in his office. He did his marking, and she did her homework or just read. Gradually conversation crept in, and before long they were discussing Muggle literature, exchanging books, and vying with each other to see who could come up with the most scathing denunciation of Fudge’s personality. Severus won, but only by a hair.

He had invited her into his private quarters one evening to select a new book to read, and somehow after that it seemed more natural to sit in there where it was warmer. It was also where Severus kept his Firewhiskey. When she confessed that she couldn’t get any peace even in the Prefect’s bathroom, he had offered to let her use his bath whilst he was on his rounds. “Provided, that is, you clear it up afterwards, Miss Granger, and that you don’t leave damp towels lying on the floor.”

So had begun the Friday night ritual. They met only in passing as he went on his rounds, and she could spend up to two hours soaking in bubbles in the light cast by the sandalwood scented candles. One evening, on a whim, she had conjured a yellow plastic duck, and she had amused herself imagining his face when he had found it there afterwards. What would he make of it?

So, here she was, up to her neck in a very warm bath, gazing at the wall opposite blankly.

Her reverie was interrupted by the sound of someone’s footsteps. She was surprised when the door was pushed open, and was confronted with Professor McGonagall.

“There you are, Miss Granger. I have been trying to catch you to have a little word on your own.”

Hermione was dumbstruck. Expulsion seemed the most likely result of this evening, regardless of how utterly devoid of actual impropriety. The appearance of wrongdoing was enough, and McGonagall was not the sort to turn a blind eye to anything.

“What did you want to speak to me about, Professor?” she said, thinking what a stupid question it was. How about the fact you are naked in Professor’s Snape’s bathroom?

“I have been aware for some time that you and Severus have been getting shall we say….. closer…”

“Nothing has happened, Professor,” Hermione interrupted desperately. “Nothing at all. Professor Snape has just been kind enough to allow me to use his bathroom so I can get some peace and quiet, that’s all. ”

McGonagall’s face softened. “Goodness me, Hermione, I know you haven’t been doing anything! You’re not in trouble in anyway. I know Professor Snape would not take advantage of a student in his care.”

Hermione relaxed back into the bath.

“Which is really rather the point, I suppose. You’ll have to make the first move, you know. He won’t.”

Hermione stared at her in shock. “Pardon?”

“If you want Severus, you will have to make the first move. Really, dear, for a bright girl sometimes you are slow on the uptake.”

“But… but…” Fleetingly Hermione wondered if someone was using Polyjuice to impersonate the Headmistress, the conversation was so bizarre. “He’s my teacher…”

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn. After the events of this year, you can hardly be treated as a child anymore. I have no worries that Severus is taking advantage of you in any way. In fact, if anyone is the vulnerable one in this relationship, it’s Severus.”

Before Hermione could think of anything more sensible to say, she blurted out, “You think he’s interested in me, then?”

“Absolutely besotted. You may not think it, but Severus is a very shy and private man. He’s let you into his private quarters, he’s let you into his life, but he won’t ask you into his bed. If that’s where you want to end up, you’ll have to do all the chasing. And if that isn’t where you want to end up, then perhaps you ought to spend less time here. For his sake.”

Professor McGonagall turned to go. “I’ll leave you to think about it, dear.”

As far as Hermione was concerned, she didn’t have to think about ‘whether’ for long. But the ‘how’, the ‘how’ was much more difficult. She ran though various scenarios in her mind, but somehow she couldn’t see herself asking him ‘whether that was a rubber ducky in his pocket or are you just pleased to see me’. She wasn’t a sultry, seductive siren, and if she said something like that he was more likely to deduct points than respond in kind.

She spent so long worrying about what to do that events overtook her. A sudden noise made her look up to see Severus in a dark green dressing gown standing in the doorway. He flushed and stammered, “I’m sorry Hermione, I thought that you would have finished by now. I had no idea you were still here.”

A wave of terror passed through her at the thought of what she was about to do. Her hopes were lifted by the fact that he was still in the room, and seemed to be interested in the rise of her breasts peeking out from the foam.

She sat up to give him a better view. It wasn’t subtle, but hopefully it would be effective, and she felt that she needed all the help she could get to carry her over the next few minutes.

“Did you want to have a bath, Severus,” she asked mock-innocently.

“Er…yes?” he answered, almost like one of his students in a potions class, hoping against hope that they were giving the right answer.

She smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way, if not seductive, and picked up the back-scrubber. ‘I’ll wash your back for you if you like?’

There was a horrid moment of absolute silence. Hermione thought that she may have just made the biggest mistake of her life. She tried to slide back under the suds, which suddenly seemed a very insubstantial barrier between her and embarrassment.

Snape’s face froze in between one expression and the next, caught with his mouth open.

In other circumstances, Hermione thought she would find that fact that Severus Snape was capable of being shocked amusing. Now she was just wishing that her wand was in her hand, that she had obtained her Apparation licence, and, whilst she was at it, she thought wryly, she may as well wish that the Anti-Apparation wards at Hogwarts had been taken down. It was all about as likely as getting a positive response from the frozen statue that was Professor Snape.

She was trying to work out some way of making it out of the bathroom with her dignity intact – fat chance of that – or at least without showing any more flesh that was strictly necessary, when something of her uncertainty must have registered with Severus.

He opened his mouth to speak. For a moment she thought he was going to say something to smooth over the awkwardness they now found themselves in, and allow her to escape to her room and cry her eyes out.

He seemed to think better of what he was going to say, then, taking another breath, he said, “I don’t find that sort of comment entertaining, Miss Granger. Such puerile remarks may pass for wit amongst your dullard Gryffindor cronies, but I can assure you that I am not amused.”

Only Severus would think that a naked young lady sitting in his bath and offering to scrub his back was trying to have a joke at his expense.

“I can assure you, Severus, that my Gryffindor cronies not dullards. They,” she stressed, “would at least have the brains to recognise when someone is making a pass at them, and have the consideration to treat such an offer with the courtesy it merits.”

He blinked, then his expression softened. He looked intrigued and horrified in about equal proportions.

The sense of anticipation was painful. Her heart was beating triple time. Would he say yes, now that he knew she was serious? He watched her breasts as she took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. Seeing his dark eyes glitter with some strong emotion gave her hope.

He sighed. That sounded ominous. “I’m sorry, Miss Grang…. Hermione, but it would be totally inappropriate to take you up on your suggestion whilst you are still a student at Hogwarts.”

So, he’s interested. The very least she was coming away with was an agreement to defer things for the three weeks left of school. Hermione had never been a very patient girl, and she wasn’t keen to wait that long. Besides the notion that she was in some way vulnerable and in need of protection from Big Bad Professors this week, but not next month was just silly.

“I now what I am doing. I am not a child. If I was old enough to face Voldemort, I am certainly old enough to decide who I want to sleep with.”

“Nonetheless,” he was adamant, “I must ask you to leave.”

“If you insist,” she said calmly. “Hand me a towel, will you,” and with that she stood up, allowing the foam to slide down her glistening body.

Hermione found the fact that he hadn’t handed her the towel encouraging. Actually, she found the fact that he hadn’t run screaming from the room encouraging. Nor had he burst out laughing, or made some comment about crude Gryffindor seduction tactics lacking finesse. All of which he was perfectly capable of if he wasn’t interested in her. But what was most encouraging of all was the way he was tracking the movement of one particular dribble of foam making its way from her breast to her thigh.

That was the look of a man fighting a battle with his conscience and losing.

She stepped out of the bath and moved to the towel rail. Picking up the smallest one there, she began to dry herself off. He watched her movements with interest, leaning one shoulder casually against the wall, but made no move to touch her. “There,” she said brightly. “All done. I’ll leave to your bath then.”

He didn’t say anything, but straightened from his slouch. He undid the belt of his robe, slipped it from his shoulders, and hung it on a hook on the wall. When he turned back he caught her looking at the musculature of his thighs and buttocks. The view from the front was even better though, and it was clear that his conscience was most definitely on holiday. He had liked what he had seen. And she liked what she was seeing.

Her mouth dry, she watched as he eased himself into the bath.

“Perhaps I will take you up on that offer after all,” he said.

Hermione’s sense of triumph didn’t last long. It was replaced in fairly short order by the sense that she was completely in over her depth.

She wasn’t a virgin; the war had tended to concentrate everyone’s minds in the direction of sex. This didn’t mean that she was well versed in the art of seduction thought. All it had taken to get Ron into bed was the simple question, “Look do you want to die a virgin, because I don’t?” Apparently he had been so impressed with the line that he had used to great success several times himself, mainly on Hufflepuffs. No self-respecting Slytherin would admit to being a virgin, and no self-respecting Ravenclaw would say anything other than, “Given the choices available to me, yes!”

He hadn’t been very good the first time, but she had made him keep going until he got it right, despite his complaints that he hadn’t expected sex to be conducted as though it were a NEWT. For a couple of days after that he had given her a very wide berth with a wild look in his eyes, but he calmed down a little when she informed him that she had only been using him for sex. Occasionally she would catch him giving her looks of bewilderment, but now he had a girlfriend he seemed less jumpy.

Hermione thought that his girlfriend had a lot to thank her for. By the tenth time he was actually getting to be quite good.

Having now secured Severus’ agreement to being seduced, she had absolutely no idea how to go about it. Running from the room in terror was not an option, however tempting it might seem at the moment. She was a Gryffindor. She was brave. She also thought Severus would never forgive her. It certainly wasn’t the action of the mature, sensible adult she had been trying to argue she should be treated as.

Severus was looking at her oddly. Obviously she had to do something, and quickly. She wrapped a towel round herself. She took a deep breath, stepped closer to the tub, and picked up the back scrubber. Then she hurled it through the bathroom door, being rewarded with a loud crash, and leaned over Severus for their first kiss.

It was everything she had hoped for. All those stupid Romances that Lavender spent her time reading were right after all – after Ron she had doubted it – there were butterflies in her stomach. It turned out that the books were also right about a whole range of other things. Her knees actually went weak, and she tipped over into the bath. Severus didn’t seem to mind the company.

He muttered, “I think you broke my mirror.”

“Bugger your mirror.”

“Good point; well made.”

Very little was said for the next few minutes, which passed in a very satisfying fashion. Severus very kindly helped Hermione out of her wet towel. As he pointed out, it wasn’t very sensible to wear it in the bath, and Hermione had always prided herself on being sensible.

It landed on the bathroom floor with a squelch. Hermione briefly stopped exploring Severus’ mouth with her tongue to comment that there was going to be a hell of a mess for the House elves to clear up.

“Bugger the House elves,” he said.

“Good point; well made.” Hermione, devoted campaigner of house elf rights had for once decided that there was something more important than equality and freedom - what Ron would call a bloody good knobbing. And whilst Hermione had a wholly unsuspected romantic streak, she was bright enough to realise that that was what she wanted. Romance in the form of flowers and chocolates would be very welcome – a point she intended to make very clear to Severus in due course – but right now she had more important matters in hand.

Very much to hand.

Severus had his head tipped back on the edge of the bath, and was drawing in desperate breaths through his open mouth.

“Do you like that, Severus?” she asked in what she hoped was a sultry tone.

He opened one eye, fixed her with his best potions master glare and replied, “If you could refrain from asking questions when the answer should be obvious to even the meanest intellect I would be very grateful, Miss Granger.” It would have been more impressive if he hadn’t been badly out of breath.

She stopped what she was doing.

Both eyes opened. Little Slytherin brain cells were clearly ticking over behind those glittering eyes. Should she be worried? He smirked. She definitely ought to be worried.

Then he was rolling her underneath him as a great wave of water surged out of the tub, and fitting his body to her and then in her.  There were a few crowded moments before they found the best way to move together.

She rather expected him to pay her back in kind, but it seemed that if this had been his intention he had changed his mind. For which mercy much thanks, she thought vaguely before giving up thinking up completely.

She had expected him to make love like he made his potions, with quiet intensity and careful attention to detail. Instead, he was passionate and wild, with hands that wandered everywhere, and a mouth that had attached itself to her neck with an enthusiasm that was going to leave marks.

She came just before he did, and as they lay there in the afterglow they became aware of just how chilly the water had become, and just how little of it was left in the bath.

He huffed at the hair that was dangling in his face, so she tucked it back behind his ear. He leaned forward again and half-whispered half-growled in her ear, “Did you like that, Hermione?”

She toyed with the idea of saying something witty, but, based on her limited experiences with Ron, this was probably not the time to make a joke so she contented herself with heartfelt assurances. “You were absolutely fabulous, Severus.”

He levered himself out of the bath, and then gave her a helping hand out. They surveyed the wreck of the room ruefully. There were sopping towels everywhere, little cotton islands in a sea of water.

“It’s way past curfew,” he said, “and you should be in bed.”

“I know,” she said, picking up her clothes, trying to work out the best way back to Gryffindor Tower.

He moved across to her, plucked the clothes from her hands, and threw them across the room where they landed in a puddle.

“I didn’t say whose bed, now did I?

Chapter 2 >>