Snape was comfortably nestled between Hermione’s long legs, his back resting against her chest as she lay back against the claw-footed tub they had expanded just a few short days before. The water was as hot as it was because Snape knew she hated to be cold. He smiled and moaned softly when she picked up the washcloth and began to bathe his smooth, pale chest, wrapping her arms around his front and leaning her chin on his shoulder. She continued in that manner before moving on to his shoulders and neck.