Love is a many splendoured thing?

Love is a many splendoured thing?

By Sonia

"Love is a many splendoured thing."

"Love lifts us up where we belong!"

"BOLLOCKS!"

Spending Valentine's Day with Ewan McGregor and a bottle of champagne sounded like a good idea a couple of hours ago.

Hell, there was nothing wrong with the principle of an interesting bloke and champagne on any occasion but Hermione Granger, 31-year-old charms professor at large, had forgotten how angsty parts of Moulin Rouge made her feel.

Did she still believe in love? Who knew? Who the mink cared?

Thankfully, her scream of frustration had been masked by the castle's hallowed stone walls. The same walls being the recipient of another hurled champagne glass seconds later.

Today really did suck big time but given another few hours it would soon be over. Either that or she would go barking mad in the mean time.

She was reasonably attractive, had a brain that could equal most wizards if not surpass them and yet a lasting relationship eluded her. While on most occasions this did not bother her, there were nights when she could and would have sold her wand just to be loved by a man who was her intellectual equal. If only for a few hours.

There was definitely a price for not suffering fools easily, Hermione mused.

The young witch thought she had better burn off some excess energy in a more traditional method, as there were only a certain number of champagne glasses a girl could shatter.

What was a single witch to do to simmer down on Valentine's Day?

Socialising was out of the question. Harry and Ginny were enjoying a rare night away from their three children and Ron was touring Europe as captain of the Chudley Cannons.

Reading? For one rare occasion in Hermione Granger's life books were not going to be the answer. A good sweat building session in the gym was.

Changing into a halter-top, sports bra and yoga pants, Hermione headed down to a gymnasium she found on one of her late night strolls through Hogwarts' corridors. The gym was deserted. No need for weights, yoga or Pilates when she was frustrated enough to punch the living crap out of anything.

The punching bag was perfect. Solid enough to take plenty of punishment and whatever else Hermione could throw at it. Her foot connected with the punching bag, sending it swinging backwards towards the opening doorway.

Who else was coming down here to seek refuge from the hearts and flowers that flooded the rest of the castle? Sharing her refuge was not required or desired. Why couldn't the rest of the castle let her belt the living daylights out of her Valentine's Day blues in peace?

"Ooowwwff!" The man doubled over and fell to the mat covered floor, shielding his groin on the way down.

"Oh, I am sorry! Lumos!"

When she was growing up, Hermione often heard her parents refer to things as a Kodak moment. Now she knew exactly what they meant. It was a situation she had not expected to find herself in for love or money. If it wasn't so serious Hermione could start giggling. Witch and wizard just looked at each other, not knowing what to say or who should say it first.

"Fucking hell! Severus! What the hell are you doing down here? Escaping Valentine's Day as well?"

Hermione's hands rested on Severus shoulders and she looked at her stricken colleague. His hands were still shielding a rather sore crotch. What on earth was Miss Granger trying to do? Render the Snape line extinct?

"Severus, what can I do?"

Someone should have told a mind as fine as Miss Granger's not to ask such open-ended questions, Severus thought. This was a better Valentine's Day opportunity than giving that blasted cat of hers the keys to a giant canary cage. As the only single witch and wizard under 50-years-old at Hogwarts, there were just some situations in life where time was on their side.

A potentially dour evening had just turned delicious.

"How about offering to kiss it better Miss Granger?"

Holy mother of mink! Happy Valentine's Day Hermione Granger! While it might not have been champagne, roses and promises of undying devotion, Severus' offer was certainly going to go a long way to easing the feelings of frustration and loneliness that threatened to overwhelm her earlier tonight.

~*~*~*~

Don't call me Gigolo
Don't call me Casanova
Just call me on the phone
And baby come on over
When you need someone
When you need someone to...

Make love like a man
I'm a man
That's what I am; yeah
Make love like a man
Your kinda man

~*~*~*~

His hands fumbled with the ties on her halter-top. Try as he might, the potions master could not handle unfastening the only barrier between him and paradise.

"What's that supposed to be? The Galifreyian Frustration Knot?"

"Must I do everything myself?" Hermione muttered, as her hands swatted Severus' out of the way. Soon the top and her sports bra were decorating the top of the punching bag. His lips began a soft but delicious assault on her breasts.

She had heard the effectiveness of his tongue as a student and a colleague, but this totally redefined the odds.

The fireplace roared into life causing Severus and Hermione to pause their indulgent activities for a moment. Who the hell would floo anywhere on Valentine's Day?

Molly Weasley's face went as red as the negligee she was wearing when she climbed out of the fireplace and copped an eyeful of Severus' head between Hermione's breasts.

"Oh Merlin's wand!" Molly screamed.

All Severus and Hermione could do was lie there, looking like startled rabbits in the headlights of an oncoming semi trailer. There was nowhere to go - nowhere to hide. So Severus decided to make the most of a bad situation, in the best possible way.

Both of them still had their eyes on their friend. This was a sight neither of them had expected or wanted to see. Severus inched his way up Hermione's body and started making little rocking movements with his hips.

Somebody should have warned the potions master about what happens when you play with fire, thought Hermione. This was beginning to feel just a little too good. A little lower . . . oh right there please. Pretty please?

Oh Nimue, thought Hermione. Was going into fits of screaming orgasmic lust in front of your best friend's mother inappropriate? More than likely.

"You have forty years to stop that," Hermione muttered under her breath

All Severus could do was smirk and keep rocking his hips, grinding into Hermione's pelvic bone. This beat Valentine's Day with Ewan McGregor and the rest of the Moulin Rouge bohemians hands down.

Speaking of hands down, Hermione was discovering the delights of Severus' well-formed butt. Payback could be such a bitch, she thought as the man on top of her started grinding his hips into her even more. Oh yyyyesssssss.

"So sorry professors, wrong fireplace all together. I was hoping to surprise Arthur in his office at the Ministry. Now, what size jumper do you take Severus? Shall have to think about knitting you something for Christmas if this keeps up . . ."

With a flash of green flame, Molly disappeared into the fireplace and left the two professors to continue their Valentine's Day celebrations.

"One more minute and I swear I'd have fainted" Hermione started to giggle.

"I hope Arthur Weasley will be surprised because I was totally startled. There are just some things in the wizarding world one never expects to see. I don't think I can look at red lace in quite the same way ever again."

Severus started to untie Hermione's yoga pants and his soft, tapering fingers began exploring the delights concealed by her lilac thong. She couldn't wait to see his face when he saw the word "luscious" embroidered across the front of the thong. This evening was going to get much better.

"Happy Valentine's Day Severus."

"Happy Valentine's Day Hermione."

~* Finis *~