Indulgence

AN: Those of you who reviewed Nightfall seemed to want to know a bit more. Plus my Inner!Snape has demanded more shagging before he will agree to continue the Serious Plot. So here I give you the smut with a tiny dash of plot.

Set some time during seventh year in a universe called ‘War? What War?’, otherwise known as ‘Voldemort Who?’ and rated SNUNAM: ‘so naughty you need a mop.’

Silly spell names and incantations are horrible corruptions of my absolutely splendiferous knowledge of Middle Egyptian. Binding spells themselves are, of course, not my creation and executed to much better effect by many more talented authors.

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.

---

Hermione sat down on the end of the bed and began to resituate her blouse. Snape had his back to her as he stood in front of a mercifully quiet mirror and refastened the buttons on his robes. She glanced up at the clock on the wall. Snape’s hand was pointed at ‘You’re not late… yet.’

Hermione never knew a clock could do sarcasm.

She stood up and smoothed the skirt of her uniform down. She caught sight of her torn panties on the floor and sighed. That was the third pair he ruined this week. Circe save them if the House Elves were gossips. She’d have deal with them later. As she reached in her bag to put them away her hand brushed against something smooth. Confused as to what had crawled into her bag, she pulled it out.

Oh. Right. The book. She had forgotten the real reason she came down here.

Hermione sat back down on the bed with the book in her lap. She began skimming the passage when Snape caught sight of her reading in the mirror.

“I realize this is your study period, but perhaps you are taking that proviso far too literally.”

He raised an eyebrow at her but his amusement faded as she chewed on her lower lip and failed to respond. Snape finished fastening his cuffs and crossed the room to see what held her attention.

“You said your exams were not until next week.”

Hermione looked up at him and pointed out the spell. “I found a less expurgated account of the spell’s effects. I thought we could look it over together.”

“That point of discussion has long since been put to an end.”

Hermione was beyond frustrated with his stubborn refusal to talk – or even argue – about the binding spell. She held the book up and urged him to take it.

“Severus, I don’t see why you won’t discuss this with me.”

“Stop waving that book around you foolish girl. I am well aware of the translation to which you refer and I shall say again; it is completely out of the question.”

“But I’ve researched it already and I know what’s involved. It’s not that bad honestly.” Hermione crossed the room and tried to show him the passage again.

“Ten points from Gryffindor for manhandling a book.”

Hermione sighed and set the book on the table. Why was he being so impossible about this? When is he not impossible, Granger? She had one more class before supper and decided to use the time to regroup. She picked up her book bag and slid the offensive tome out of sight. Maybe she would be better off trying again when he was in a better mood – like after Slytherin won the house cup. Or after Neville promised to never come near the dungeons again. Or after Dumbledore retired to warmer climates. She rolled her eyes at herself. As if any of that was going to happen any time soon.

“I have class,” Hermione said. Snape nodded in agreement and showed her to the door.

---

After dinner, Hermione waited until the boys had gone to change before she headed down to the dungeons. Quidditch was going to start in a few minutes and she wanted to find Snape before he sat down to watch the match. She ran down the last few stairs and hurried through the corridor. Luck was apparently on her side today and she caught him just as he was leaving his office.

Snape stalked past her and promptly put an end to any ideas she had towards talking to him here. He continued to ignore her even after she caught up and fell into step with him. She glanced to the side to try to catch his eye but Snape stared fixedly in front of him. Fine. He can listen.

She spoke up as they headed out and into the courtyard.

“About the Hekanseneh…”

“Do not speak that here.”

“The binding spell then,” Hermione continued, unperturbed. “I want you to tell me why you’re so against it.”

“Now is not the time.”

“This is the perfect time to talk about it; everyone’s at the Quidditch match!”

“Where we should be too. Come along, Miss Granger, it wouldn’t do to be seen dawdling in the courtyard. I would be forced to take points away from Gryffindor, as much as it would pain me to do so.”

Snape turned sharply on his heel and proceeded to the Quidditch pitch, robes at full billow. Hermione trotted along to keep up with his much longer strides and forced the issue again.

“But I want to do this Severus – ”

“Professor Snape,” he hissed.

Hermione glanced around nervously. “Professor Snape.” She leaned closely just in case they were overheard. “I know what I’m asking for! You keep changing the subject every time I bring it up. Why can’t you see the good this would do?”

“Good?”

“For us, you great bloody prat.”

Snape stopped just as he reached the steps to the stands. His hand darted out and seized her wrist. He pulled her around the back of the stadium to an area darkened in shadow.

“Why must you persist in this, girl? Gods forefend that someone knows better than Hermione Granger.” He still had a grip on her arm and it was beginning to hurt. His eyes bore into hers. “You. Will. Regret. This.”

Hermione winced as the bones in her wrist shifted and wondered just how much Snape was referring to.

“You’re hurting me.”

“Am I? You have no idea what you are fooling with, girl.”

Snape backed her against one of the support beams and finally released her wrist. Hermione rubbed at the skin as he took another menacing step toward her. She caught her lip between her teeth as she watched his eyes raked over her. She knew he didn’t care for it when she wore her uniform. Well, at least that was what she assumed. The way he usually ripped it off of her made it difficult to tell whether disliked the reminder of her status as his student or if it only served to get him hotter. Hermione\'s investigation into the dark depths of Snape\'s psyche was cut short once his nostrils flared as he pressed his body against hers.

“Your friends are playing right behind that wall,” Snape said and used his knee to move her thighs apart. “Can you hear them? Potter is after the snitch as we speak.”

Hermione strained to hear the commentary as Snape jerked her up to his height and made room for himself between her legs. She could feel him hard against her as he rocked his hips forward.

She began to think the scales had tipped in favour of hotter.

“Pray I let you to come before he catches it,” Snape rasped into her ear before he bit down high on her neck.

Hermione moaned and fisted her hands in his hair. Oh they just couldn’t do this here. Filch could walk by or the match could end early or – but they were though. Snape already had his hands under her robes and had pushed her skirt up her hips. His hands slid up the backs of her thighs and gripped her bare arse; she hadn’t had the chance to replace the knickers he tore off her earlier. Snape made a strangled noise and dug his fingers into her flesh.

“Five points from Gryffindor for dressing like a slut.”

One hand broke away from her thigh to open his fly. The hand returned to wrench her thigh apart more and she could feel the blunt head of his cock pressed against her. She shook her head futilely, hoping he would stop or cast a privacy charm or something.

“Protest all you want, girl, your body gives away your need.” He was reading her mind again. “You’re wet. The thought of being caught with me must turn you on.” Snape teased her cunt, pushing in just enough to make her squirm and arch up to urge him on. “Tell me to stop. Say it.”

“Oh gods,” Hermione felt herself get wetter at those words, “don’t stop.”

He plunged that hot, burning flesh inside her and made her moan. Hermione gripped the back of Snape’s head as he roughly fucked her. He slid mercilessly in and out of her, driving her sharply into the wooden beam behind her. She felt herself start to clench around his cock and tightened the grip she had on him with her legs.

“Don’t you dare,” Snape hissed, harsh and unforgiving, into her ear, “don’t you dare come before I tell you.”

Hermione cried out again and bit her lip, trying to think of anything but how good he felt thrusting into her.

Snape buried himself in her body and bucked in short, hard strokes. His hands, clutching convulsively, bruised her thighs as he came. Hermione whimpered in desperation as she fought to keep from following him over edge. Snape’s voice, thick and graveled, finally released her, “Now.”

She cried out, shouting his name as her body shattered with the force of orgasm. Her howls lost amidst the sudden jubilation that erupted from the Quidditch pitch as the snitch was caught.

There was a thundclap of feet trampling down the steps and growing ever closer. Snape closed his mouth on hers in a short, possessive kiss as he slid his sated flesh from within her. “Clean yourself up, they’re close.”

And with that the heat of his body withdrew and abandoned her there to meet her friends alone.

Hermione pulled her skirt down and tried to otherwise to look as though she hadn’t just shagged her Potions master. She never questioned how he timed everything perfectly, but thanked the dieties for the few seconds of warning before the boys ran up to her, sweaty and exhilarated.

“Did you see that catch Hermione? It was bloody brilliant. Tell her Harry!”

Harry nodded and began to excitedly share the play by play of the skirmish that led up to his triumphant catch and eventual tumble into the stands. “Wasn’t it great?”

Hermione smiled and tried to share her friends’ infectious enthusiasm. Easier said than done when she was distracted by Snape’s cum running down her thigh.

“Er… I really felt the earth move.”

Both of them beamed brightly at her before the rest of the Gryffindor team swallowed them into their midst and whisked them away.

Once they were out of earshot Hermione quickly broke down laughing. Earth shattering, indeed, Granger. She cast a quick cleansing charm on herself and ran to catch up.

---

Later that week they sat in his sitting room while Quidditch practice was running. Snape was at his desk making cutting remarks on the third years’ essays. It was a wonder he didn’t cover his desk in red ink they way he brandished his quill. Maybe he did and had to spend rather a lot of time cleaning up after himself. Hermione pulled her feet up under her and set the parchment she was working on aside. She would have to finish that later when he wasn’t around. He was much too distracting.

Hermione looked around the room to which she was quickly becoming accustomed. Neat and tidy aside from her shoes tossed haphazardly onto the floor. He even remembered to light the fire for her. She had once pointed out that not everyone had his natural immunity to the cold. To which he had responded by rolling his eyes and then proceeding to demonstrate how one could stay warm in his rooms without a fire. Prat.

Her gaze fell on his clock once again. At the moment his hand was pointed at ‘Feeling Peckish,’ and uncharacteristically devoid of sarcasm. She then noticed a new hand present. One with her name on it.

Huh.

“Severus?”

“Hmm?” He answered absently whilst slashing through another paper.

“Did you add me to your clock?”

Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe the clock had bewitched itself; it was Hogwarts after all. Stranger things had happened.

Snape looked up at the clock and then over at her. “So it would seem.”

Vague as ever. “Was that a yes?”

He sighed and very patiently added, “Yes I added you to the clock.”

Oh. “Oh.”

He raised an eyebrow at her reticence.

“Well... why?”

Snape tossed the quill aside and moved to the sideboard to begin making a pot of tea. “You were concerned about being missed. I did so in the hopes of ending your propensity to fret needlessly when in my presence.\" He paused momentarily to deal with the kettle. \"I am irritated enough with the third years’ essays without having to suffer your often remarkable resemblance to a large, nervous pigeon.”

“Oh.”

“You needn’t worry. No one else ever is here to see it.”

Well that wasn’t what was bothering her, but now it was certainly going on the list. She was on his clock? If she brought her toothbrush she’d be practically moved in.

Hermione looked up and took the cup of tea which he offered. Grateful for the distraction she took a sip. It was hot - too hot - the way he cared for it. But it had just the right amount of milk and sugar in it for her. He took his black. She frowned and stared into the cup.

The bastard. The smug, irritating, thrice-damned bastard.

How dare he!

So he was allowed to make any grand gesture – grand for him at least – that he liked, but she wasn’t?

He made her tea the way she liked it and let her keep her books down here and added her to his clock. That was practically a declaration of lo... whatever. Snape had another thing coming if he thought she was going to let him keep brushing off her attempts to do this spell with him.

He must have noticed her sudden agitation.

“More milk?”

Bastard

She put her tea down and gathered up her things. “I have to go back, practice is almost over.” She kept herself from slamming her books around in a fit of pique, but only barely. Refusing to look at him, she hitched her bag onto her shoulder and headed for the door. He chose the moment she had her hand on the knob to speak up, making Hermione grit her teeth as she seethed silently.

“Your cloak, Hermione.”

She reached out and angrily snatched the invisibility cloak he gave her and left his rooms.

She was still fuming as she reached the Fat Lady when it was that Snape eventually looked at Hermione’s hand on the clock.

‘Plenty of time left, relax.’

He frowned and took care of her untouched cup.

---

The next day Hermione had Double Potions.

Snape stalked past the front row looking as disgruntled as ever. He slammed his hand down on the desk.

“Enough! It is obviously too much to hope that one of you could manage to brew an adequate potion after seven years of instruction. Five feet on the importance of temperature stabilization in the preparation of natron amalgams due on my desk for next class.”

Snape spun around and narrowed his eyes at the room.

“Well? Clean this up and get out of my sight,” Snape snarled, enjoying the moment of frightened scurrying that took place at the end of most every class. He sat down on his desk and ostensibly began to make notes on his lesson plan.

Moments later a shadow darkened his parchment and caused him to look up.

“Do you have a problem following my instructions, Miss Granger?”

The room had emptied and Hermione stood in front of him with that same look of irritation from last night. What in Merlin’s name had he done to infuriate her this much?

She dropped what looked to be a very heavy roll of parchment in front of him without a word.

“Despite your reputation with the rest of the staff, I refuse to believe even you are capable of finishing an assignment minutes after you are given it.”

“No, sir.” Hermione’s voice was tight and tinged with highly controlled anger. “This is the proposal for the extra credit project I requested. I hope it meets your standards, sir.”

Snape was left to stare at the parchment in confusion as Hermione haughtily strode out of the classroom. The jars along the walls shook from the strength with which she slammed the door.

Project?

Curious, he picked it up and read the first few lines.

Heka-n-Seneh

Commonly known as the lovers’ binding spell it has been dated back to the time of the Pharaohs. Oral history accounts have traditionally attributed the origins of this spell to late in the New Kingdom to ensure the fidelity of the wives of the Pharaoh. As this practice fell into disuse with the decline of the Egyptian empire, it became adopted into more private practice between lovers and slowly spread into Europe…

Snape stopped reading and pushed away from the desk.

Miserable, impudent, little hussy. It wasn’t enough that he shared most of his evenings with her. Or that he obliged her by chasing her around the castle and shagging her whenever he had the chance.

‘Good for us.’ Ha!

He picked up the parchment again - it must have been a good twenty feet - and skimmed further down.

The primary effect of the binding in essence is that the individual on whom the spell is cast will be unable to be unfaithful to the one who had performed the spell. Some accounts suggest that the target of the spell also experiences an increase in need for the caster, both physically and sexually. This side-effect has not been reported consistently and the extent to which this would be experienced is unknown.

Infuriating trollop. She had no idea what she was getting herself into.

He continued reading as he locked and warded the classroom to retire into his rooms for lunch. He tossed the parchment on the table and fell deep into thought.

If she was foolish enough to think she had prepared herself, he would have to oblige her. And then she would find out just how out of her depth she was. He would see to it; he knew just what those ‘side-effects’ entailed and just how much she would regret getting involved with him. Nothing she could have gotten her greedy little hands on could have prepared her for the agony which awaited her. Oh it would be such lovely torment, and she would be oh so displeased with him once she found out. She might even hex him. Snape smiled at the image that presented.

But then she would be out of his life for good. No matter what he told himself, the thought still niggled at him uncomfortably.

It’s for the best.

Snape shook his head to clear it and summoned a house elf for lunch. He had much to plan.

---

The next morning at breakfast an owl dropped a note in Hermione’s breakfast. She opened it and saw the anonymous scrawl of a dictoquill’s writing.

Nine o’clock, Shrieking Shack. I trust you remember how to get through.

She felt her pulse race in anticipation. They were actually going to do this. That was her assumption at least. Why else would he have her meet him there? Not the most desirable place for a tryst. What she remembered of it was … unpleasant. Dusty, stale, and ewww readily came to mind.

She excused herself from the table and headed down to Transfiguration to have a few minutes alone before the boys started asking questions. The classroom was prodigiously quiet and gave Hermione a chance to collect herself before she had to face her friends. She was nervous, more so than she expected to be. But why? She didn’t think she was having second thoughts. She was well accustomed to Snape’s intimidation tactics that one ominous note would not so easily dissuade her. Had that been the case she would have dropped the issue weeks ago.

She looked at the note again. This still didn’t explain why he had been so staunchly against it the entire time. Maybe they would have time to talk about it beforehand. Snort. They rarely ever managed to talk before sex. Getting undressed was usually more of a delay than he was willing to allow. Hence the unfortunate slaughter of her defenseless undergarments time and time again. In fact, this may have been one of the few times Hermione would fail to appreciate the single-minded way Snape was when it came to fucking.

Hermione knew all too well that neither ‘randy’ nor ‘tea-deprived’ were states conducive to holding a civil conversation with her Potions master.

She sighed and took out her book for class: Advanced Transfiguration: Really, Really Advanced This Time. There was no point in spending the day wondering about his motivations. He never cared to explain himself before, it was hardly reasonable to expect him to start now. Maybe Imperio would work but the prat was probably used to throwing it off…

Deep breath, Granger.

Hermione shut the book with a loud thump and slumped down in her chair.

So much for not thinking about it. If only he hadn’t sent the note until later, she wouldn’t have to sit here tingling with anticipation – and fretting, can’t forget the fretting – with nothing to do but wait for nine o’clock to roll around. He probably knew it too. Most likely he planned it this way to punish her.

Hermione heard the door behind her and straightened up.

“There she is.”

The boys slammed their bags down on the desk and flopped into the seats along either side of her.

“I told you at breakfast where I was going,” Hermione said, neatly stacking up her notes next to her quill.

She was met with two blank stares.

“I did. It’s not my problem that neither of you can listen to me when you’re shoveling food in your mouths. Granted, part of the problem might have been that Ginny had her tongue in Harry\'s ear. Honestly, at the table?” Hermione smiled as Harry turned bright red and Ron a little green.

“Harry, she’s my sister!”

“Give off will you or I’ll tell that sister of yours. You don’t want her to hex you again, do you mate?” Ron shifted in his seat and most certainly did not want to cross wands with Ginny again. She could be one angry witch. And just where had she learned that spell anyway? The memory was just too painful for Ron and so he shook his head, no.

The rest of the class began filing in slowly.

“So, did you two remember we have a test today?” Hermione asked, grinning at the twin groans of despair that followed.

Hermione did manage to forget about Snape and their date for most of the day. Class always served as a good distraction, especially when it involved tests. The reprieve was short lived however, because when it was time to return to the Great Hall for dinner, so too did her nerves. Matters were not helped by the absence of the professor in question from the High Table. Although he was not prone to showing up for most other meals, Snape almost always appeared for dinner. Dumbledore probably wrote it into his contract, the manipulative old goat.

So to not see him in his chair, especially on a day like today, suggested he was Up To Something. If the Fates were kind to her, this meant he was taking the evening to supervise a few house elves as they cleaned up the shack.

The Fates, and Severus, had a twisted sense of humour though. This did not bode well for her at all. Hermione worried her lower lip with her teeth. She was most definitely in Trouble. When it came to punishment, Snape was, at best, incredibly inventive. And at worse, patient beyond human comprehension.

Oh dear.

This was going to be a very long night.


Continued in Part 2