a/n: I am horrible at keeping promises on here. Just keep an eye out for the second trilogy to this with Ginny x Tom x Harry

slight warning...covid influenced this chapter. XD


PERHAPS IT WAS the memory of his housekeeper's lush breasts outlined in wet fabric the night before. Perhaps it was the lilac scent of her hair that seemed to linger like a ghostly presence in his rooms. Or perhaps it was a simple biological need catching up with him. In any case, Severus woke the next morning with the vision of her lush, red lips wrapped about his achingly hard prick. An overly vivid erotic dream, but alas, his flesh did not know the difference between reality and fantasy.

Severus groaned and threw back the covers. His head, and indeed his entire body, ached most horribly, but still his cock was proudly erect. He contemplated that clayish part of himself. What an irony that even the most intelligent man could be reduced to this throbbing base need solely because of plump lips and a round white bosom. His prick bobbed at the vivid image of Mrs. Granger. Proud. Argumentative.

Entirely naked.

He swallowed and touched himself, running his fingers up hot flesh made iron, surrounding the aching head in his fist. His foreskin was already pulled back by the swelling of his cock, and his seed gleamed between his fingers. His imaginary Mrs. Granger knelt before him and cradled her own white breasts in her hands. She lifted them, offering them, at once wanton and shy, her lower lip caught between her teeth. He squeezed the head of his cock, feeling the shaft of pleasure shoot to his balls. Her breasts were big and bonny, overflowing her little hands. She took her pink nipples between thumb and forefinger and pinched them hard, giving him a wicked look. He groaned and fisted down, pulling gently. If she pushed those soft mounds together if he leaned forward and thrust his cock between her sweet, hot breasts . . .

Beside him came a small canine whimper. He instinctively jerked and grabbed for the covers. "Shit!"

Then he remembered and let his body flop back on the pillows. He looked down. The puppy cringed against the bedding, half-buried in the

sheets that had covered him.

"It's all right, laddie," Severus said. "It's not your fault I'm a daft man."

Nor was it the puppy's fault that he still remained erect and aching.

But then he'd woken many a morning in this state. And since he'd

returned from the Colonies, he'd had naught but his own hand to satisfy his

animal desires. Once, several years ago, he'd reached a point of such

frustration that he'd journeyed into a wretched section of Edinburgh. There

he'd sought out the services of a woman paid to relieve men of their erotic

urges. But when the whore he'd settled on saw his face in the candlelight of

her rented room, she'd asked for a higher price. He'd left, humiliated and

disgusted with himself, the whore shouting curses behind him. He'd never

repeated that awful experience. Instead, he'd settled for his own hand

whenever base lust overcame his reason.

The puppy bumbled out from the covers at the sound of his voice, its rear end wiggling in delight. It was a brown and white spaniel with floppy ears and a speckled nose. The puppy had come from a litter belonging to a farmer living just beyond Hogsmead. Saddling Salazar and riding out in search of a puppy yesterday had been a whim. The sight of Hugo scattering petals on Lady Cissa's grave had stayed in his mind, nagging him for hours yesterday. Even more disturbing was Scorpius running so determinedly away from the burial. That display of accidental magic was stunning for a lass so delicate looking. Poor lass, so stiff and unlikable. Not sweet and biddable as a normal girl should be. Something about the little lass reeked...priggish. He snorted softly. In a way, she reminded him of himself.

The puppy stretched on too-large paws, his round belly nearly touching

the bed, and yawned. No doubt he would need to relieve his bladder soon

and, being a baby, wouldn't care where he did it.

"Hold on, laddie," Severus muttered.

He rose, joints creaking and began dressing, but he'd only managed

smallclothes before his door suddenly opened. For the second time that

morning, he grabbed for the sheets. The puppy spun and yelled at the

intruder.

Severus sighed, biting back a curse, and looked into startled hazel eyes. "Good morning, Mrs. Granger. Had you thought to knock before you entered?"

Those beautiful eyes blinked and she frowned. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Attempting to find my breeches, if you must know." He propped a fist on his hip, thanking providence that he still wore his eye patch from the night before. "If you'll leave me in privacy, I can greet you more fully attired."

"Humph." Instead of leaving, she bustled past him and set her tray on the table next to his bed. "You need to get back in bed."

"What I need," he rasped, very aware that his cock had sprung back to life at her entrance, "is to dress and take the puppy out."

"I've brought you some warm milk and bread," she replied blithely, and

then stood in front of him, arms folded, as if she actually expected him to

eat her strange concoction.

He regarded the bowl on his bedside table. It was half full of milk.

Soggy bits of bread floated on top, a thoroughly revolting mess.

"I've begun to wonder, Mrs. Granger," he said as he dropped the sheets

and reached for the puppy, "if you've decided on a deliberate campaign to

drive me mad."

"What—?"

"Your insistence on disturbing my work, hiring servants I do not need,

and in general, disrupting my life cannot be all accident."

"I didn't—!"

He set the puppy in front of the bowl as she sputtered. The puppy stuck its face and one paw in the bowl and began to eat, spilling milk and bread lumps on the table. Severus looked at his housekeeper.

Who'd found her voice. "I never—"

"And then there's the problem of your attire."

She looked down at herself. "What's wrong with my attire?"

"This dress"—he flicked the lace at her bosom, brushing against warm, soft breasts as he did so—"is too fashionable for a housekeeper. Yet you persist in swanning about my castle in it, in an attempt to distract me."

Her cheeks reddened, making her hazel eyes sparkling with indignation. "I have only two sets of dress robes if you must know. It isn't my fault that you find them objectionable." She crossed her arms lifting her tempting chest out to him temptingly.

He took a step toward her, his chest nearly touching the dress robes in question. He wasn't sure anymore if he was trying to drive her away or lure her closer. The scent of lilacs was heady in his nostrils. "And what of your insistence on barging into my rooms without so much as a knock?"

"I—"

"The only conclusion I can come to is that you wish to see my body

unclothed. Again."

Her eyes dropped—perhaps inevitably—to where his smallclothes tented over his rampant cock. Her lush, beckoning lips parted. God! The woman drove him insane.

He couldn't help but bend his head toward her, watching those plump red lips as she licked them nervously. "Perhaps I ought to assuage your curiosity."


HE MEANT TO kiss her, Hermione knew.

The intent was in every line of his face,

in the sensuous look of his eye, in the determined pose of his body. He meant to kiss her, and the awful part was that she wanted him to. She wanted to feel those sometimes sarcastic, sometimes hurting lips on hers. She wanted to taste him, to inhale his male scent as he tried her. She actually began to lean toward him, to tilt her face up, to feel the racing of her heart. Oh, yes, she longed for him to kiss her, perhaps more than she longed for her next breath.

And then the children rushed into the room. Actually, it was Hugo mainly, running as always, with his sister following more slowly behind. Sir Severus cursed rather foully under his breath and turned to clutch the sheets about his waist. He needn't have bothered, though, for all the attention the children paid him.

"A puppy!" Hugo cried, and lunged for the poor creature.

"Careful," Sir Severus said. "He hasn't…"

But his warning came too late. Hugo lifted the dog, and at the same time, a thin stream of yellow liquid poured onto the floor. Hugo stood there, mouth open, holding the puppy in front of him.

"Ah…" Sir Severus stared blankly, his magnificent chest still bared.

Hermione sympathized with the man. Half killed by cold the night before, not even dressed this morning, and already invaded by incontinent dogs and

running children.

She cleared her throat. "I think—"

But she was interrupted by a giggle. A sweet, high, girlish giggle that she hadn't heard since they'd left London. Hermione turned.

Scorpius was still standing by the doorway, both hands clapped over her mouth, giggles spilling forth from between her fingers. She lowered her

hands.

"He peed on you!" she crowed to her poor brother. "Peed and peed and

peed! We ought to call him Puddles."

For a moment, Hermione was afraid that Hugo would burst into tears, but then the puppy wriggled and he drew the little animal to his chest, grinning.

"He's still a grand puppy. But we oughtn't to call him Puddles."

"Definitely not Puddles," Sir Severus rumbled, and both children started and looked at him as if they'd forgotten him.

Scorpius sobered. "It's not our dog, Hugo. We can't name him."

"No, he's not your dog," Sir Severus said easily, "but I need help naming him. And at the moment, I need someone to take him out on the lawn and make sure he does the rest of his business there instead of the castle. Do I have any volunteers?"

The children jumped to the task, and Sir Severus had barely nodded before they were out of the room. Suddenly she was alone again with the master of the castle.

Hermione bent to wipe at the puddle on the floor with the cloth she'd brought from the kitchen along with the pap. She avoided his eyes. "Thank

you."

"What for?" His voice was careless as he flipped the sheets back on the

bed.

"You know." She looked up at him and realized her vision had blurred with tears. "Letting Scorpius and Hugo take care of the puppy. They… they

needed that right now. Thank you."

He shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. "It's little enough."

"Little enough?" She stood, suddenly irritated. "You almost killed

yourself getting that dog. It was more than a little enough!"

"Who says I got the dog for the children?" he growled.

"Didn't you?" she demanded. He liked to act the beast, but underneath she sensed a different man entirely.

"And if I did?" He stepped closer and gently grasped her shoulders.

"Perhaps I deserve a reward."

She had no time to think or debate or even anticipate. His lips were on hers, warm and slightly rasping from the stubble on his chin, and oh, they

felt good. Masculine. Yearning. She hadn't been wanted like this in so long.

Hadn't been kissed by a man since she couldn't remember. She leaned into him, her hands on his bare upper arms, and that was wonderful, too, the feel of his hot, smooth skin beneath her fingers. He opened his mouth over hers and probed gently with his tongue, and she opened, welcoming him in.

Happily. Wonderfully. Easily.

Perhaps too easily.

This was her one great fault: a tendency to act too soon. To fall in love too fast. Giving everything of herself only to regret her impulsive passion

later. She'd thought Draco's kisses lovely, too, once upon a time, and what had that led to?

Nothing but despair.

She drew away, panting, and looked at him. His eye was half-closed, his face flushed and sensuous with a darkened beard of whiskers.

She tried to think of something to say. "I…"

In the end, she merely pressed her fingers to her lips and ran from the room like the greenest virgin.


"ROVER," Hugo SAID. He was squatting in the grass behind the castle, watching as the puppy sniffed at a beetle he'd found.

Scorpius rolled her eyes. "Does he look like a Rover to you?"

"Yes," Hugo said, and then added, "Or perhaps Captain."

Scorpius carefully lifted her skirts and found a bit of dryish grass to sit in.

Most everything was soaked from the storm the night before. "I think

Tristan would be nice."

"That's a girl's name."

"Is not. Tristan was a great warrior." Scorpius frowned a little, not

entirely sure of her facts. "Or something. Certainly not a girl, anyway."

"Well, it sounds like a girl's name," Hugo said stoutly.

He picked up a twig and held it in front of the puppy's nose. The puppy bit the twig and took it from him. He flopped on the ground, back legs

splayed behind him, and started chewing the twig.

"Don't let him eat it," Scorpius said.

"I'm not," Hugo said. "And, anyway—"

"Oy!" a familiar voice called. "Wot have you there?"

Behind them stood Mr. Filch. His head blotted out the morning sun,

and the greying hair standing up around his face seemed to be dazed. He swayed just a little on his feet and frowned down at the puppy.

"He's Sir Severus's dog," she said quickly, afraid he'd try to take the

dog. "We're watching him for Sir Severus."

Mr. Filcs squinted, his little eyes nearly disappearing into wrinkles in his face. "Lowly work for a duke's daughter, innit?"

Scorpius bit her lip. She'd so hoped that he had forgotten Hugo's words from the day before.

But Mr. Filch was thinking about other matters. "Juss make sure it don't piss in the kitchen. Have enough work about here as it is, don't I?"

"He—" Hugo started, but Scorpius interrupted him.

"We won't," she said sweetly.

"Huh." Mr. Filch grunted and walked off again.

Scorpius waited until he'd disappeared into the castle; then she rounded on her brother. "You mustn't say anything to him again."

"You're not the master of me!" Hugo's lower lip trembled, and his face

was growing red.

Scorpius knew that these were signs of an imminent fit of screaming or crying or both, but she pressed, anyway. "It's important, Hugo. You mustn't

let him tease you into saying things."

"I didn't," he muttered, which they both knew was a lie.

Scorpius sighed. Hugo was still very young, and this was the best she'd get out of him. She held the puppy out. "Would you like to hold Puddles?"

"He's not Puddles," he said, but he took the puppy and squished it against his chest, hiding his face in its soft fur.

"I know."

Scorpius sat back on the grass and closed her eyes, feeling the sun on her face. She ought to tell Mama what Hugo'd said. She ought to go right now

and find her. But then Mama would become cross and worried, and it'd spoil this new happiness. Maybe it wouldn't matter, anyway.

"Puddles hasn't seen the stables," Hugo said beside her. He seemed to

have recovered his good temper. "Let's show him."

"Very well."

Scorpius stood and trailed her brother across the wet grass toward the stables. The day was lovely, after all, and they had a sweet puppy to take

care of. Something made her look back over her shoulder in the direction

that Mr. Filch had gone. He was nowhere to be seen, but black clouds hovered in the distance, ominous and low, threatening the sunshine.

She shivered and ran to catch up with Hugo.


Thank you guys for the lovely reviews for the last chapter! To answer someone's question-Salazar was able to wander back into his stable on his own. He's a magic horse so he's more intelligent then the horse's muggles breed.

I think there are only a couple more characters after this, in total maybe 30 before I begin to crackdown on Ginny's story. It's hard cause I technically we the storyline all out of order...

Do you guys think this little story will make it to 80 reviews?

Thank you to all of our new BAB readers!

Also, NothingrhymeswOrange has up and disappeared on me guys. Anyone would like to partner on me with BAB and beyond?