Snamione🖤

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Snamione🖤

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Family snape.
Hermione likes to sleep in on Severus Sundays.
Censored version of a messy sketch of Hermione and Severus enjoying themselves. If you want to see Hermione's titties, you can do so on my bluesky.
Worn out… again. Should I wake her up?
Part 4. Finale of my little sketch

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***
Someone's hand falls on her shoulder, and Hermione shudders.
‘Miss Granger?’
Get me out of here.
His voice is her salvation. She forces herself to turn her head over her shoulder. He doesn't look at her, knowing full well that sympathy would break the dam in her already pitiful emotional state.
‘May I have this dance?’
Granger nods almost imperceptibly as Severus immediately extends his arm to her. Hermione unclenches her numb, icy fingers from the hem of her dress and places her hand in his. She hears footsteps behind her.
‘Professor,’ Ron raises his eyebrows, stopping beside her. ‘Unexpected.’
He falls silent for a moment. Hermione feels the tension in the air, but she knows Severus will protect her. She just knows it, feels it. He is like a wall. A stone, impenetrable fortress that will not let the enemy pass.
‘Are you dancing?’ he asks.
‘Fortunately, yes, Mr Weasley,’ he spits out coldly. ‘It's a wedding, in case you haven't noticed, it's customary here.’
Without another word, Severus looks down at this idiot with his usual contemptuous gaze and puts his arm around Hermione's waist, barely touching her dress as he leads her onto the dance floor.
***
Translated fragment from the russian fanfiction “Naivety” by Vi_Stormborn
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