The dark wizard glanced up from his parchment to his curly-haired wife. "Yes, love?"

Advancing slowly to the Headmaster's desk in their private study, Hermione purred, "I have just read the most fantastic thing in a book."

"You? Read something in a book?" He smirked. "The indicator on my Surprise-O-Meter has never been so still," he drawled, sitting back in his desk chair. He glared at her over the spectacles on his large nose, knowing how much she liked his stern professor look (only Merlin knew why). "Just what text of yours necessitated the interruption of my perusing a most fascinating eight-foot treatise on the quality of schoolroom chalk as measured by the amount of dust produced when cleaning the erasers?" Gods, Percy Weasley needed to get a hobby.

Hermione responded by unbuttoning her blouse. "Ward the doors, Severus, and I'll show you."

His eyes heated at the sight of her flesh, and the doors locked and sealed themselves with a casual wave of his hand. He raised an eyebrow when she drew out her wand and began a complex pattern. He was intrigued; his wife wasn't a Charms and Transfiguration Mistress for nothing. "This had better be good, Hermione," he growled, noting how her skin broke out in goose bumps when he said her name.

She looked up at him, her magic a zephyr through her curls. With a last sweep of her wand, her shoes vanished off of her feet and transformed into a cot. Her clothes floated away, dancing and spinning, and changed themselves into a magnificently soft down-filled mattress. Hermione then flicked her want at Severus, and his clothes floated away to become indecently comfortable sheets.

Severus sauntered around his desk to his wife, his hard cock pointing the way. "You presume much, my love." He ran a finger down the side of her neck.

Hermione looked up at him through her lashes. "And I'm about to presume even more." She reached down and firmly grasped his length, slowly stroking him with the tight grip he had shown her years ago. She gently guided him backwards to the cot, steering him with gentle pressure on either side of his engorged length.

They stopped when the back of his knees touched the cot. "Lay back, Severus," she whispered in his ear, "and let me love you."

Tunnel vision had taken hold of the dark wizard. All he could see, hear, feel, and smell was Hermione. He was clay in her hands; she could do anything she wanted as far as he was concerned. That she would use her power to make love to him still made him lightheaded and faintly dizzy. The cot was probably a good idea.

His black eyes blazing, he reclined on the cot, propping his head up on a squishy pillow.

Hermione make one last sweeping motion with her wand. "Amor Est Pondus," she intoned, and Severus's eyebrows shot up when she became slightly blurry, rising to float three feet off the floor.

"Hermione, what is this?"

She grinned in smug satisfaction as she air-swam over to her husband. "It's the "Weightless Love" spell. I've been turned into a sort of sexual mist," Hermione explained as she hovered over her husband. "And I won't turn solid until we've come." Her smile was vicious as she settled down over him.

Severus had always scoffed at sexual spells. While they were the ones most easily turned to dark intent, sexual spells were so complicated to cast almost no one could pull them off correctly. Trust my swotty girl to get one right.

Hermione reached out and touched him gently to gauge how much stimulation his skin could handle. Letting her mist flow between his toes, Hermione started at the bottom and worked her way up. She added force as well as surface stimulation, grasping his feet firmly to rub the calluses formed from years of prowling the halls looking for wayward students. Progressing up his legs to his arms and chest, her mist swirled around to touch and tickle his scars; she completely ignored his straining erection.

Severus writhed and grimaced as her caress set his blood on fire. He tilted his head back and groaned as his wife surrounded him with her essence, engulfing him in love, acceptance, and unbridled lust.

Hermione's voice drifted through his sensual fog. "Do you trust me, Severus?"

He came back to himself for a moment. "Mmm, what was that?" he asked dreamily.

She smiled and drifted closer. "I asked," she whispered, letting a wisp of smoke caress his ear which shot delicious chills down his scarred neck, "if you trusted me, Severus."

His dark eyes were limpid pools of burning desire. "Implicitly," he said slowly, intoning each syllable in his sinful baritone.

Hermione finally let the mist touch his cock, and Severus's eyes went glassy from the intense pleasure. "Correct answer, Professor." The swirling fog surrounded Severus and lifted him weightlessly into the air.

He was lost. Hermione's essence touched him everywhere, from the crown of his head to the ends of his toenails. He came to himself for a moment when he felt his cheeks being parted and a smoky tendril softly caressing his fundament, but the sensation was so intense and wonderful that he sighed in contentment and pulled his knees up to allow easier access; he shuddered and groaned at the gentle penetration.

Tendrils of mist wrapped around his length and the orbs at its base, strongly pumping and gently squeezing in rhythm. His hips moved of their own accord causing him to twist slightly in the air as he grunted and thrust into his wife's essence. One last wisp of mist parted the hole at the tip of his hardened length and darted inside while the other tendril inside him swirled and caressed his innermost parts, his cock dribbling copious amounts of fluid from the stimulation.

Faster and faster he thrust into her essence, his grunts becoming growls of feral bliss. When he was at his peak, his face flushed and the tip of his cock so engorged it was violet, Hermione took mercy on him and completed the spell.

"I love you, Severus Tobias Snape."

The orbs at the base of his length pulled close to his body and hardened; Severus arched his back and wailed in ecstasy, his muscles locked in a rictus of overstimulation. He trembled and howled as his seed fountained out of him, the long ropy jets arcing high through the mist and landing on his chest, his legs, the cot, and the floor.

Set off by his release, Hermione's mist rhythmically pulsed and contracted, her climax serving to persuade his locked muscles to let go. The mist pulled out and away from his spent body, and they slowly floated down, Hermione becoming more and more solid as they descended. The cot self-cleaned its sheets just before they gently landed, the unconscious couple sinking into the soft mattress where they could nap in comfort.

The castle kept an eye on things as Severus and Hermione slept. While Hogwarts demanded much of its Headmasters, it also knew when to give them a moment's peace.