Venery

Title: Venery

Pairing: SS/HG

Rating : NC-17 (aka SNUNAM!)


Summary: Legilimency is a Girl\'s Best Friend; or, What
to do when Weasleys Welch.



WARNINGS: I do earn my NC-17 here. I may not be able to decide if there is too
much plot for a PWP but I can honestly say \'here there be
smut\'. Fluids and Chains and Anal, oh my!



AN: This was meant to be a PWP because Maxie (I hate you) got my Inner!Snape all
hot and bothered when I was working on Teh Plot. She is to blame for this smut bunny that ran away with my free time. But really, no more smut. No matter how much you beg. Not until I get the other worked on.





Disclaimer: kAt nt jkr. jnk nj pw Sh. Oh, you didn\'t understand that? Sorry. As you have no idea that this wouldn\'t prevent copyright infringment, I wouldn\'t think you\'d mind not being able to translate the disclaimer. Silly me.

---

Monday





Hermione settled down in one of the chairs in the replica of Snape’s office and
began her breathing exercises.



Inhale. Hold four seconds. Exhale. Hold four seconds. Repeat.



In order to convince Snape to resume the Occlumency lessons with Harry, he had
demanded a few terms before he would agree to take up that particular torture
again. (She suspected this was after the Headmaster had rung his ears and
threatened the nine hells if he did not concede.) One, they were to take place
in a location other than the potions classroom or his office, thereby giving
him the illusion of privacy and done so in the hopes of fending off a repeat of
the Pensieve Incident. And two, that someone else work with him so that ‘I will
not waste what little leisure time I have trying to squeeze pumpkin juice from
a bezoar.’



And so Hermione sat, three days a week, and plodded through the same painful
lessons and then headed back to the Common Room to practice with Harry.



She tried to arrive a few minutes early to clear her mind. Her mother, in an
attempt to embrace her daughter’s ‘New Age’ lifestyle, had taught herself
meditations to better connect with her daughter’s world. At the time, Hermione
had laughed and slowly explained that they didn’t spend their days in a
classroom holding hands and reading each other\'s auras. Her mother had been
rather irked at her only daughter’s cheek and in an effort to once more achieve
familial harmony Hermione had patiently listened as her mother imparted her new
found knowledge.



Thank Merlin she had!



By virtue of her last name being something other than Potter, the enmity
directed at her during these sessions was tolerable. Nowhere
near the disaster Harry described and no worse than in class. Still it
was not the way she wanted to spend most of her final year at Hogwarts.
Anything that would make these lessons more bearable was a Good Thing in her
book.



And so she meditated until he swooped in and wreaked
havoc on her inner peace. Never mind that his mere presence put her distinctly
on edge. She liked to call the prickles that raced up her back fear, but knew
she was deluding herself. That was something not to be dwelled on for
too long especially when the man himself was about to fossick around in her
mind.



Inhale; imagine clear blue air entering your lungs. Exhale; expel clouded, red
air through your mouth.



She managed a full four minutes of calm before the door slammed open. Honestly,
these meetings were supposed to be secret. How the blazes were they going to be
discreet if he slammed his way into the Room of Requirement night after night?
It was tantamount to leaving a trail of breadcrumbs from here through the
Slytherin Common Room and straight into Voldemort’s lair.



“Ready yourself, Miss Granger.”



Ohhh yes, sir!



Sweet Circe, where was her mind tonight? Damnable teenage
hormones. She smoothed her robes over her legs and set her wand aside.



Snape stood and towered over her, wand in hand and looking particularly devious
this evening. Tricksy bastard was planning something.





Clear your mind, Granger.



His wand leveled at her. “Legilimens.”



Just a sneak attack tonight. The room clouded and swam
like a whirlpool in her vision. Unlike the first time, no images raced before
her eyes immediately. She felt Snape’s mind press against hers, seeking out
weakness. She kept her mind focused on a dark black pool. As long as it
remained steady, so would she. Focus. Each time Snape tested her
defenses, ripples disturbed the still waters.



Her heart pounded like a drum in her chest as the invasion continued. The
glassy surface of the water cracked and swallowed her reflection in its depths.



She was eight and playing out in the rain… She was sitting in Binns’ class and taking notes… She was watching Harry chase
after Malfoy on his broom while hers refused to rise off the ground… Harry was
standing next to her as she looped the Time Turner around their necks… Ron was
holding her hand and proposing to her after she received her Marriage Law
notice… Ron was kissing her happily after she said yes… Snape was breathing
down her neck in potions class and her nipples were hard…



Her eyes flew open and she forced Snape out of her mind.



Shit... shit shit shit!




Maybe he hadn’t seen. Maybe her life wasn’t over and she would be able to show
her face in the school again. And maybe Snape would congratulate her on her
engagement and give them a toaster oven as a gift.



Shit.



Snape folded his arms across his chest and stared thoughtfully down at her.
What was he waiting for? More than likely he was pondering the best way to
thoroughly humiliate her. Would he tell the entire school or would he keep this
to dangle over her head for the rest of her natural life? Better yet, could he
manage some Slytherin feat of Machiavellian scheming and pull off both at once?
She wouldn’t put it past him.



Snape tapped a finger against his mouth and stayed silent. Long slender fingers
tap, tap, tapping on her inner thigh. Her tongue darted out and moistened her
lips at the thought of those fingers curling inside her. Still he remained mute
while her mind tumbled straight into the gutter.



Merlin’s balls girl! You’d think you’d never seen a man before.



Ohhh and what a man he was. The kind that would bend
you over his knee and make you beg for it. She’d be
hot and slick and those fingers would just glide over her folds. A few hard
slaps and she’d be tumbling right over that edge.



Snape’s eyes flashed over hers and reminded her that this was not the time for
fantasies. She tugged on her collar nervously.



Just how hot did this room get anyway?



“You’ve been practicing.”



Sweet holy hell, did he see that too?



“Something I cannot say about your friend,” Snape sneered the last word
nastily.



Oh good he was distracted. If he stayed in a Potter Induced snit long enough
she might get away with it.



“However you failed to block the most mundane of happenings and allowed me an
opening with which to delve deeper. For whatever reason you
feel safe in my presence. More fool you.”



Safe was not the word she would have used for him. Sinful,
sexy, saturnine, serratic. Ssssybillantssss. Hissed razor sharp against a backdrop of
the staccato drumming of his tongue against her flesh. He’d insult her
and take points away from Gryffindor even as that nose bumped her clit and made
her skin hum.



Snape took a sudden step toward her and her blood raced. Her breath caught as
his arm snaked out next to her, only to pick up her forgotten wand. She sighed
in relief and immediately regretted it. Damn the man smelled good. He held it
out and waited until she curled her fingers around it.



She would have sworn his eyebrow went up at the symbolism. Hermione gulped.
Definitely cold shower time.



“Get out of my sight, Miss Granger.”



“Good night, sir.”



And she fled.

---

Tuesday



Ron came up behind her at dinner and kissed the side of her neck.

“Hello, love.”

Hermione smiled as he sat down and draped an arm around her shoulder. He was
such a dear, even if he did shovel food into his mouth like a gnome in a garden
full of Horklumps.

“I talked to mum and she thought we could get permission to be married over the
hols even if my birthday isn’t until March,” Ron
said. His face lit up eagerly, which she hoped was from excitement over the
wedding and not the sausage he had just speared with his fork.

“I hope so. The last thing I need is for my life to become some sort of soap
opera. Can you imagine the Headmaster patting me on the hand telling me it’s
best if I married Kingsley instead?” Hermione shuddered and scooped some eggs
onto her plate. “Honestly, the man smells like cheese.”

Ron snorted into his pumpkin juice. “Like I’d let anyone else have you.” He
looked rather smug at this pronouncement, as though he’d challenge anyone to a
duel to defend her honor. Order members and Death Eaters alike! Silly boy, she
knew more hexes than he did.

Hermione leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “My hero,” she drawled in an
overly saccharine voice.

“How did it go with the git?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “If you’re going to insult the man,
at least think of something more creative. If I hear ‘Hermione, I don’t
know how you stand the greasy git’ one more time I will be forced to take
drastic action.”

“Okay, okay! How was last night’s lesson with the slimy slink?”

She was pretty sure he made that up, but she had asked for it after all. “It
was fine. He said I impressed him by lasting almost five minutes before he
could break through my shield. Not that he used those words exactly, mind, but
you could tell that\'s what he meant by how little he was glaring.”

Glaring indeed. She rather expected he was more
skilled in wandless Legilimency than he let on. She had not been particularly
surprised he hadn’t commented on what he may or may not have seen in her mind.
He was biding his time. Hrmm. She’d have to drag Harry off tonight to get some extra
practice in before tomorrow’s lesson lest some of last night’s dreams make an
appearance.

Particularly the one involving some creative uses of potions vials.

She let herself reminisce while Ron finished the rest of the food on his plate
and hers.

Glass was so easily warmed and cooled as needed. He had slid an icy flask
inside her and bit down on her nipples. Awful yellow teeth or not, he could do
marvelous things with them. She rather suspected wizards had never managed a
working dental hygiene spell in the entire history of magic. Sadly the dream
ended before she found out if he was interested in having her return the favor.


He might be the picture of Victorian prudishness with those severely repressed
robes and living cloistered away like some Benedictine monk, but she rather
suspected he liked a bit of buggery as much as anyone.

Oh dear, Ron had asked her something.

“Ronald, if we’re to be married you must swallow the food before you attempt to
speak to me.”

Ron swallowed audibly. “Sorry. I asked if you wanted mum’s help with the
plans.”

“I was going to ask Ginny first. Plus, I’m still waiting to hear back from my
parents. It may go pear shaped if they insist on having a Muggle ceremony
instead.”

Ron shifted uncomfortably and actually set down his fork without swallowing the
bite. She had shown him one of those bridal magazines with the men in different
tuxes and morning suits and he damn near choked. It seemed only fair to her
that if she had to dress up like a giant bit of meringue he had to look as
equally ridiculous. The whole wedding would undoubtedly be ridiculous. Imagine
Snape if he saw them feeding each other cake? He’d have kittens.

Snape, Snape, Snape. This fixation was becoming unhealthy. She couldn’t keep
lusting after him noon and night.
Mrs. Weasley would be the first to capitalize on her absent-mindedness and have
her agreeing to pastel pink bridesmaid dresses and a home across the road from
the Burrow.

She glared at Ron out of the corner of her eye. Why did he have to make this so
difficult? Who would have thought a boy like him would want to save himself for marriage? Frankly, just because he could have a
wank several times a day was no reason to make her suffer needlessly.

She’d have to wear him down.

How hard could that possibly be? She was a girl. He was a bloke. They were in
love. What could possibly keep them from consummating their love?

She slid her hand up his thigh under the table.

Ron went wide-eyed and whinged, “Hermione… we talked about this.”

“I know Ron, but it’s only a month. I don’t see why we have to wait.”

He became uncharacteristically serious and actually pushed his plate away to
face her. “It matters. I want our first time to be special, not just… y’know.”
Ron smiled at her with all the heartfelt sincerity a seventeen-year-old boy
could muster.

Hermione’s heart melted and she leaned in to kiss her fiancé. There was
something to be said for a little schmaltz. For a little while she forgot all
about Snape and the size of his wand.

---

Wednesday



Hermione walked through the corridor on the seventh floor and saw that the door
across from the tapestry of Barnabas had appeared without her having to
concentrate on it. Curious, she entered and saw that instead of the appearance
of Snape’s office, which the room usually took, it looked like the potions
classroom.

She frowned and wondered just what she had been thinking to bring this about.

“Wand on the table, Miss Granger.”

Ah, this wasn’t her fantasy then.

Hermione did as requested and glanced around. “Sir?
Why are there no stools?”

“Surely a mind like yours can work out the implications therein. I do not wish
for you to sit.”

“I can see that, sir. But I wondered why?”

Snape made a noise of disgust and slipped her wand into his robes. “Perhaps
your vast powers of memorization have failed you at last. I believe I mentioned
how unfortunate it was that you were so… comfortable… in my presence. I sought
to remedy that.”

Snape spun, dark eyes glittering, and quickly closed the distance between them.
Startled, Hermione backed away from him until her back hit the wall. She
worried her lip as she glanced at the door, wondering if she could make the
short run. She waited too long, though, and Snape was suddenly in front of her.
Hermione could feel him towering over her, ripples of energy pouring off him.
She pressed herself further against the wall.

Gods he was a scary wizard.

Snape put a hand to her throat and held her still. Hermione panicked. She
grabbed his wrist and tried to push him away, but he was implacable in the face
of her attempts.

“Professor!” She yelled. He wasn’t choking her though.
Had he gone mad?

Hermione looked up and felt herself sinking as their
eyes locked together. Snape pressed into her mind, reached right through her
dark pool and past all her defenses.

Ron was kissing her goodnight… McGonagall was praising her on her O.W.L.’s… Ginny was cooing over her engagement ring… Snape
was taking house points off the three of them for being out after curfew… She
was in the bath and sliding her hand between her legs… She was coming and
shouting Snape’s name…

She forced Snape out of her mind and glared at him. He was not going to
see any more.

His eyes glistened. Snape tipped his head back and regarded her coolly as if
pondering his next move. Hermione sniffed defiantly and watched as his lips
curled in response.

The room swirled again and the waters of her pool were churning.

Ron was telling her they should wait until they were married… She was in class
today finishing her potion and imagining Snape finger fucking her…

She pushed and he was gone again.

“Better,” Snape purred before attacking again.

She was dreaming of Snape bending her over his desk…

No! She was disheveled and breathing heavily, but back in the Room of
Requirement.

Snape slid his hand off her throat and flattened his palm against the wall. He
pressed his body warmly against hers and forced his way back in.

Hermione found the trick of it this time and turned the pool into ice. He could
not read her anymore. The only things he saw were his own thoughts reflected
back at him.

They stood panting, mouths a fraction from each other. Snape bared his teeth
and Hermione wondered if that was the closest he ever came to smiling.

“It seems you flourish under pressure, Miss Granger.”

They shifted against one another and Hermione groaned. Her nipples ached
against the fabric of her uniform. He was driving her crazy, all she could
think about was him and sex and how quickly she could put the two together. Her
hands went to his shoulders and fisted his cloak while she ground her hips
against his for some relief.

He lifted her off the ground and turned around to lay her back on the
worktable. He leaned back and pushed her robes up over her hips. His fingers
looped around her panties and pulled them down. Hermione lifted her hips and
helped kick them away.

Keeping her eyes locked on him, Hermione propped her heel on the edge of the
table and spread her legs.

Snape’s nostrils flared.

His fingers unerringly found their way found their way inside her as he leaned
over her. Hermione moaned and pushed up off the desk to hump against his palm.
There were very few things in this world better than the feel of a warm body on
top of yours. And one of those was a warm body on top of you whose hand was
knuckle deep in your cunt and stroking your g-spot.

Bliss.

This was so much better than she imagined! Those fingers curled and stroked her
walls while his palm ground against her clit. If he would only… oooh, yes… she could just about…

And he took his hand away.

Hermione groaned in frustration and wrapped her legs around his waist to get
some sort of pressure against her clit. Snape grabbed her hips and moved away
far enough to flip her over and press her face down against the cold hard wood.


“Umecto,” Snape whispered.

Hermione thought the Latin sounded familiar but could put her finger on it. The
answer came to her as Snape nudged her legs apart and pressed a lubricated
finger against her arse. Pressing ever so slowly, the slick digit finally slid
past resisting muscles and came to a stop. He began to work the finger around,
spreading the lube and preparing the way.

She curled her fingers around the edge of the desk and tried not to fidget. It
was an… odd… sensation being stretched open. Snape
added another finger. Not exactly pleasant or unpleasant,
just very anticipatory. Her dreams were always vague and impressionistic
without the experience to provide her mind with the proper sensations.

When her squirming continued Snape slipped his fingers out. There was a
momentary pause while Snape undid the front of his robes and grasped his cock.
He murmured the charm again as he positioned himself against her arse. He was
blunt heat and impossibly large in her awareness, but her body sang to have
that heat thrust inside her.

Snape placed his hands on her hips and began to push in. He took his time,
grunting at the tightness that gripped him. They hissed in unison as he managed
to bury himself to the hilt.

They stayed like that for some time, both adjusting to the position.

Then Snape moved. He thrust forward, doing little more than jerking against her
body. Hermione gasped and dug her nails into the wood of the desk. The thought
that Snape was fucking her was nearly as intoxicating as the act itself.

He groaned deep in his throat. Snape pulled her away from the table enough to
wrap his arm around her waist and quicken his pace. His movements became more
erratic when his long fingers snuck between her legs and began to rub her clit.


Clever fingers that brought her pleasure to a peak in time with his. They both
came in a series of long incoherent groans before slumping on the table. His
weight rested against her back and she could feel the rise and fall of his
chest as he regained his breath.

Hermione blinked the sweat out of her eyes as reality asserted itself. Snape still remained inside her as she realized just
where she was and whom she was with. Oh dear. What did one say to their Potions
master after something like that?

As it turned out, apparently nothing.

Snape pulled out of her and she winced. He tucked himself back into his robes
and left the room without another word.

She finally stood up and stretched her legs. The muscles had cramped up and she
wondered just how long they had been here tonight. She glanced at her watch and
saw that tonight’s ‘lesson’ had gone nearly four hours. Time to be going, she
thought. She grimaced as she picked up her knickers.Ahhhhhh. Sated and sore.
There were worse ways to end her day.

Before she left she caught sight of her wand. Snape must have remembered before
he absented himself. Hermione picked it up and smiled as she ran her fingers
along the wood before she slipped it up her sleeve. Even snarky gits had their
good points it seemed.

---

Thursday



Hermione delicately settled down at the table in the Great Hall the next
morning. Pleasant as last night’s occupations were, she would need to find some
sort of soothing charm to keep from wincing every time she sat down today. She
applied a thin layer of butter to her toast while she mentally reviewed all the
charms she could think of off hand.

Ron was several minutes late this morning, and came stumbling in to sit beside
her with a wide yawn. Hermione was still deciding which books she would need
from the library when he kissed her cheek.

“Were you up late studying for Herbology?”

Ron made a face, affronted at the very thought. He
scoffed and began to attack breakfast with gusto.

“Wsmmm nns
rrrdch…”

“Manners, Ronald.”

He swallowed. “Sorry, Harry and I were running new plays for Quidditch. You
should see it Hermione! Ginny starts out-”

The rest of the Quidditch talk faded into the usual sounds of incoherent
buzzing. As much as she loved him, there was no way she would willingly inflict
all the intricacies of Quidditch on herself. The obsession could be his and
Harry’s and she would show up for matches as needed. Most of
the time she could read through them anyway.

She took advantage of his need to draw breath to interrupt. “There was an owl
waiting from my parents when I got to my room last night.”

Ron visibly braced himself. “And?”

Hermione shrugged. “They’re not terribly pleased that we have to get married so
soon, but they’re happy it’s you. Other than that, they suggested we have a
reception for our Muggle relatives if we are going to have the ceremony here.”

He immediately pulled her into a bear hug.

“Errr… Ron, breathing becoming
difficult.”

He loosened his grip but didn’t let go of her.

“Thank Merlin! I thought for sure I’d have to wear one of those ribbon ties-”

“They’re bow ties, Ron.”

“-torture device is more like it-”

“I think you’d look rather dashing.” Which he wouldn’t.
Red hair clashed with everything, especially tuxedos.

Ron stopped mid-rant to blush even as he turned to preen at her. “Still, I’m
glad to be wearing marriage robes instead. Mum sent a picture of the robes she
wore when dad married her. She wants you to wear them.”

He handed her the picture of Mrs. Weasley bustling about and showing off
ghastly yellow folds of voluminous material. Hermione forced herself not to
shudder.

“Erm… Ron? Ginny and I were planning on going this weekend to get a class=SpellE>Gladrags catalogue. Mum said she wanted to help me pick the
dress.”

Ron deflated at the thought that she wouldn’t be agreeing with everything his
mother suggested. Hermione made a mental note to live as far away from Molly
Weasley as possible. Apparition made that a more difficult task, but Ron’s
mother seemed the type to show up on your doorstep any hour of the day with a
casserole and friendly suggestions on how she could be a better wife.

The woman had to be stopped before she had a chance to build up a good head of
steam about her son’s future marriage.

Ginny would understand. Ginny would sympathize. Ginny would enjoy torturing her
brother with flower arrangements and color co-ordination. Hermione would have
to enlist her help when they went to Hogsmeade. That was, of course, providing
that Snape didn’t demand that they have a session on Saturday.

Snape.

Oh.

Right.

The Sex.

Rather silly of her to forget about that. Somehow when she wasn’t a lust-driven
maniac he wasn’t at the forefront of her thoughts.

What was she going to do?

A rather tricky situation. She reached out to pour
herself some more pumpkin juice and the sudden discomfort she felt forcibly
reminded her that the question was not purely academic. They had had sex. And
rather kinky sex by what she was sure were Ron’s
standards.

But by the way he had run from the room as soon as he had come, Hermione rather
suspected they weren’t going to have to sit down and have The Talk.

That left a few questions unanswered.

First, she seemed to have gotten the knack of that Occlumency thing, did she
still need the lessons?

And secondly, did she want another crack at him before it was too late?

She was still, technically, a virgin after all. Hermione didn’t really want to
spend the rest of her life wondering if Ron would be the best she ever had. She
loved him to pieces, but there weren’t enough vibrating charms in the world to
make up for the possibility that he could be crap in bed.

This brought up a third question: would Snape be willing?

She glanced over and saw Ron waiting expectantly for an answer. Oh dear, what
would sound appropriate?

“That sounds lovely,” Hermione answered and prayed she wouldn’t regret it
later.

She thought of Snape and those fingers again; she and Ron had matching soppy
grins.

Oh yes, very lovely.

---

Friday



Hermione stood outside the door and stared intently at it. She was nearly five
minutes late as it was, but she could not seem to force herself to cross the
threshold. She knew she was being silly, but that didn’t seem to change the
fact that she was standing in the corridor petrified to see Snape again. Would
he expect something from her? They weren’t going to talk about it were they?
She had thought there had been an unspoken understanding that The Sex was just
sex.

She had a flash of an image of a clingy Snape begging her not to leave him.

Hermione had to clutch her stomach from the laughter that produced. She was
being ridiculous. She straightened up and wiped the tears from her eyes before
opening the door.

The vision that greeted her drained whatever amusement still lingered.

My goodness.

She was not expecting the room to be emptied except for a modest bed and two
chains which descended from the ceiling. Well she had seen his office, his
classroom why not…

“Is this what your bedroom looks like?”

“Twenty points from Gryffindor for your impertinence,” Snape parried,
approaching her side from her right.

Hermione bit her lip to keep from smiling. They were manacles for Merlin’s
sake! Of course it was funny. He had to know what jokes his students made about
him and his dungeons.

“From what I have gathered from the oppressively asinine natter which comprises
our staff meetings, we shall soon be celebrating your nuptials.” Snape looked
as if he had never celebrated anything in his life, let alone a wedding. “Your
Head of House in particular has been rather vociferous in point of fact. She
has been wringing her hands and bemoaning the loss of her star pupil as she
chains herself to someone as irrepressibly stupid as Mr. Weasley.”

Snape left her side to approach the bed and lift one of the cuffs with a
finger. He turned back toward Hermione and raised an eyebrow.

“I could hardly resist giving you a taste of the future, Miss Granger.”

Hermione’s face took on a rather pinched look when she was forced to hold her
tongue. Ron was not that bad! Nor did she think Professor McGonagall phrased it
quite like that. Hmph. Her hormones needed a stern
talking to if they thought Snape was an appropriate bed partner.

Snape snorted at her aggrieved expression.

Git.

He let the chain drop again and walked back over to her. When he was in front
of her – how tall did the man have to be anyway? – he
held out his hand silently.

Stay or go, he seemed to be saying, it’s your choice
now.

Hermione let her gaze drift over Snape as she thought it over once more.

Before she could weigh her options she found herself handing over her wand. It
seemed her hind brain had rather more say in her decisions at the moment than
logic or good sense did.

Her wand and Snape’s hand disappeared into his robes and produced a long, thin
piece of black cloth.

She drew breath to speak but one of those delicious fingers covered her lips.

“Shhhhh,” Snape murmured. He moved around behind her
and looped the cloth over her eyes. He tied it firmly against the back of her
head and let his fingers sift through her hair and lift it off her shoulders.

He stepped forward and kissed the side of her neck while his hands began to
strip away the layers of her uniform. Uninhibited by clothing he roamed her
body under guidance of his fingertips. His palms lifted and curled around her
breasts, tugging over the hardened peaks of her nipples. They traveled
leisurely over her skin, imparting a magic of their own with a caress here, a
squeeze there.

Those hands quested onward. They slid gracefully over the dip in her waist and
lingered over her thighs. The juncture between her thighs brought their
attention away from their careful perusal of her skin. Hermione leaned back and
tipped her head to the side to feel the flicker of his tongue against her
throat. Those fingers, unforgotten, brushed through the dark tangle of curls to
spread her apart and feed their hunger for her mewling cries.

She gasped quietly and turned to quicksilver in his arms. Her orgasm surprised
her with the speed with which it came. She was hyperaware of the subtle
shifting of Snape’s body and the ease with which his fingers sought out her
pleasure. Her body was alight against his with a luminescence that made her
question whether she was wrong in telling her mother that she would learn
nothing of aura mingling in school.

Snape stooped and carried her to the bed. She has precious little time to
relish the feel of soft cotton against her skin before the cold chink of
metal closed around her wrists.

Still blindfolded, Hermione felt his hands slide over her throat and down her
chest as an unseen force began to pull the chain and lift her body off the bed.
It stopped just beyond the point at which she could kneel comfortably on the
mattress. She felt more than heard Snape groan before he ceased to fight the
urge to close his mouth around one of her nipples.

His mouth suckled and burned her breasts with its heat. And when he moved away
and her body felt cold at the loss.

She knelt on the bed, wracked from the aftermath of her orgasm and trembling in
anticipation. The chains pulled her arms at an awkward angle above her head and
stretched her to an extent beyond what would one would consider comfortable.
The minutes deprived of sensory input made the anxiety that much worse.

Hermione shifted and felt the bite of the metal in her wrists. She hissed and
shifted again to try to correct the problem. Her skin tingled as Snape returned
and placed his hands over hers. He chuckled, a breathy erotic laugh that
breezed into her ear, and lifted her arms up to relieve her of the pain.

She could feel the heat of his body as he sat in front of her. Hermione arched
her back to rub against him as his palm slapped sharply against her thigh. She
let out a squeak and swayed back away from him.

The next came against her bottom and left her to sway back toward him. She
inhaled sharply through her teeth as he pinched the delicate skin of her inner
thigh. Then her right nipple. Wherever he touched her
burned - the blindfold adding to the mystery of where the next would fall.

He seemed to tire of that game and brushed his lips along her jaw. Snape pulled
back and was poised to kiss her when he decided against it. He hesitated with
his mouth a breath away from hers before moving away and kissing the hollow of
her throat instead. He lavished over the taste of the thin skin stretched
across her collar bone. What held his attention the longest though was the line
of skin that ran from her nipple down to her rib cage. He dragged his knuckles
along that arc over and over again.

Snape left an increasingly impatient Hermione to accommodate a change in
position. The chains lifted her up once more and the strain on her shoulders
made her groan. After a long moment they lowered her again right onto the
waiting lips of Snape. She obliged him by kneeling further apart and was gifted
with the feel of that caustic tongue lapping at her clit.

It dipped inside her dripping channel and laved her juices as they trickled
onto his mouth. Hermione moaned and was prevented by the chains from grinding
against him and smothering the poor bastard. Snape’s fingers dug into the tops
of her thighs as he began to flick her clit in steady, short strokes.

Gods strike me down if I speak ill of snakes again!

Hermione wrapped her hands around the chain and thrashed as he brought her to
another bright peak. Satisfied, Snape wiped his mouth against her thigh and
slid his body up. She could feel his cock erect and digging into her thigh. She
bit her lip and squirmed to get closer. There was nothing more important to her
right then than to have Severus Snape buried inside her.

Snape, himself, was remarkably passive beneath her. Content to feel her writhe
and rub against him, he stayed still and only betrayed his own need with an
occasional intake of breath.

“Please, oh please, ohhhhhh…” Hermione’s mouth formed
a silent ‘o’ as Snape grabbed her hips and slowly sheathed himself in her. The
pain of being stretched was accompanied this time with an all-encompassing
feeling of fullness that made the stinging all the more sweet.

He let her jerk against the chains as her body accepted his intrusion. Her body
was hot and tight around his cock. Snape made a sweet sound of longing and
thrust up off the bed. At that moment she would have done anything to hear that
in his voice again.

Impatience won out and left her to lift up and begin to inexpertly ride him.
Her body clutched at his as she slid up and her gut clenched each time she sank
down felt him as deep as he could go.

Snape pressed his thumb against her and began to send her maddeningly close to
release in time with their thrusts. He surged off the bed to slam his hips to
yours as she found her third climax of the night. A strangled sound emanated
from his throat as he poured the liquid fire that raced through his veins out
into her accepting body.

The chains disappeared and let her fall bonelessly against his chest. They lay
panting from exertion until Hermione lifted her head off of his shoulder enough
to speak.

“That was absolutely, bloody brilliant.”

His chest rumbled against hers in amusement. Snape rolled them over to leave
her splayed out on the bed. He let his hand grazed over her chest tenderly
before sliding away. He pulled a sheet over her and tucked a hair behind her
ear.

“Yes, that will do indeed.”

When Hermione finally pulled the blindfold off her eyes, Snape had already left
and all that remained of him were her returned wand and the evidence of their
coupling on the sheets.

She slept the sleep of a contented woman.

---

Saturday



Hermione received an owl at breakfast just as everyone was readying themselves
for the walk to Hogsmeade. She fed the owl the edge of her toast as she
unrolled the parchment.

Dear Miss Granger,

In light of your recent performance it would be unnecessary to continue your
lessons in Occlumency. However do not mistake this for permission to leave off
tutoring Mr. Potter. The Headmaster’s assurances of his ability aside, the boy
needs all the help he can get and your skills proved adequate to the task.

It is too much to hope in light of this Marriage Law that I will get any peace
from twittering females, but I do believe you owe me a favor or two.

I would consider it a blessing not to be invited to the happy occasion.
The sight of you and Mr. Weasley slobbering on one another would turn even the
most hardened of stomachs.

Faithfully yours,

S. Snape

PS. Two words to take with you into your soon-to-be shackled existence:
Contraceptive Potion. I’ve had enough Weasleys inflicted on me for one
lifetime.

Hermione smiled fondly at Snape’s empty seat at the High Table and tucked the
note in her pocket.

Ron looked at her curiously. “Who was that from?”

“Professor Snape. It seems he’s had his fill of my company. And I’ve satisfied
him enough to tutor Harry on my own.” Hermione met Ron’s beaming smile. “I’m
all yours now.”

Ron leaned over and kissed her cheerfully. “Too right!”


They all laughed and headed out to Hogsmeade content with the day.



END PART 1