Merry XXXmas, Professor Snape
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
31,391
Reviews:
160
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
31,391
Reviews:
160
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Severus Gets a Gift of His Own or F,C. Comes Thru
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 10 ~ Severus Gets a Gift of His Own or F,C. Comes Thru
.
Snape and Hermione dozed for an hour or so. Snape awoke first, and looked at the time. It was almost dawn, and Hermione had to get back to Gryffindor Tower before sun-up. She was curled against him, her hair flung over her face. He gently pulled her chestnut locks away and looked down at her sleeping profile. Hermione may believe what they shared was her gift, but the Potions Master was very much aware that she had gifted him with something very precious. Something he would remember for the rest of his days. It wasn’t everyday a brilliant, beautiful virgin makes a wish that a snarky, sarcastic bastard of a Potions Master twice her age would deflower her. He was more thankful than she could ever know.
He leaned over her, placing his mouth close to her ear.
“Hermione. Hermione wake up. It is morning. You must get back to Gryffindor Tower,” he said softly. The witch opened her eyes and turned toward him, smiling. Her smile faded when she saw the sober look on his face.
“You must return to your house, Hermione,” he said.
The Professor rolled out of the bed and scourgified her, then himself. He then pulled on his nightshirt, and transformed the elf shirt into a robe for her.
Hermione rose out of the bed. Snape’s black eyes were locked to her body as he held the robe open for her to slip her arms into. He was trying to memorize every inch of her. Silently, Hermione slipped her arms into the sleeves, then buttoned up her robes.
Snape walked out into the study, followed by the silent witch. He knew he should say something, but he didn’t know what to say. He walked to the floo, and Hermione joined him there. The Professor lit a fire, reached into the box on the mantle, grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it into the flames. They turned green just as he suspected they would. Hermione had received her gift. She was free to go now.
“This will take you directly to your room,” Snape said to her, his black eyes resting on her face.
“Thank you, Professor,” she said, turning to enter the floo. Her use of his title displeased him a bit, even though they were not intimate now. It was probably best she returned to it, but it still irked him.
“Thank you, Miss Granger,” he said, using her formal name as well. He saw a flicker of something in her eyes when he said it, but it passed too quickly for him to identify.
Hermione started to enter the floo, but stopped and turned to him.
“Did it mean anything to you at all, Professor?” she asked him, her amber eyes dark.
Did it mean anything? Of course it meant something.
“Yes, Miss Granger. What you gave me meant…means very much to me. In one night you gave me more pleasure, joy and happiness than I have experienced in many, many years. I am grateful to you,” he said sincerely.
She looked at him.
“If…if …I were to come back to you…would you accept me? Could we do this again?” she asked him.
This was the reason the Potions Master had been so sober. The question of continuing with the beautiful witch.
“I’m afraid not, Miss Granger. And it isn’t because I wouldn’t love to have you in my bed again. I would. You are a jewel, and will probably haunt my dreams from now until I leave this earth. But as long as I serve the Dark Lord, I cannot risk you being discovered. Voldemort would kill us both. I do not participate in the Dark Revels because I am supposed to be impotent. As you know, I am not. Coupled with you having muggle parents, that would be enough for him to murder us both. I am not afraid of death, Miss Granger, but I wouldn’t have you taken from the wizarding world because of me. You have a brilliant life ahead of you. So you see, as long as I am serving Voldemort, I have to be alone,” Snape said, truly sorry to have to tell her this.
Hermione looked at him. She could tell that he was telling her the truth of his situation. He was right too. She would be a danger to him. She knew he was a spy and if Voldemort got hold of her, he would most likely be exposed.
“If-if you didn’t have to serve Voldemort…would you accept me then?” she asked him.
He looked down at the beautiful, young witch who had just given him the sweetest gift he had ever received in his life, and sighed deeply.
“I would most definitely accept you, Miss Granger. Into my bed, and if you were inclined, into my heart. When you leave here, my world will be much darker than before you came to me. But this is how my life is, Miss Granger. With Voldemort alive, I must live a life of loneliness. I’m sorry,” he said. He wanted to embrace her, to feel her body pressed against his one more time, but denied himself. It was better to make a clean break.
“I’m sorry too, Professor. I would have been so inclined,” she said softly. She turned to the floo and said, “My room in Gryffindor Tower,” then stepped through the flames and disappeared.
Snape stared after her. She had said practically said she would have accepted him as her lover if things were different. Maybe even more than a lover. But that was something that would never happen. Snape stood before the floo a moment, then slammed his fist violently against the wooden mantelpiece, almost upsetting the box of floo powder. He drew several breaths to calm himself. Raging about what could have been would not help things.
He turned to walk back to his bedroom, planning on wrapping himself in the sheets. They would still smell of the witch. As he headed for his room, he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw what looked like a newspaper, wrapped with a large red bow sitting on his writing desk.
A newspaper? What kind of lousy gift was that?
Curiously, he walked over to the desk. It was a newspaper all right. A folded copy of the Daily Prophet. There was a tag on it. He read it.
To Professor Severus Snape. Happy Christmas. F.C.
Snape scowled. If this was Father Christmas’ idea of a decent gift, he needed to retire. He started to walk away, but felt compelled to look at the newspaper. He pulled the bow off and opened it to the front page. He looked at it, his eyebrows raised. Then his eyes went wide as saucers as he reread the headline:
LORD VOLDEMORT IS DEAD!
Dark Lord Chokes to Death on Pheasant Bone at Annual Christmas Feast
Snape read the article. It seems the Dark Lord was talking with his mouth full and a pheasant bone somehow got lodged in his throat. No one was able to save him. Snape doubted if anyone really tried.
For the first time in many, many, many years, Severus Snape smiled. A broad, heartfelt smile that felt like it would never, ever leave his face. It was a miracle…it was an answered prayer…it was…
Snape paused. He remembered yesterday afternoon, when he was forced to face Father Christmas. The man had said to him, “Surely there is something you want.” And his first thought was to be free of Voldemort. He hadn’t said it out loud, but it was his deepest wish.
He looked at the headline again. His next thought was of Hermione and the smile returned. And he found he didn’t care who saw it.
“Thank you, Father Christmas,” he said under his breath.
He walked quickly to the floo, still dressed in his nightshirt. The flickering flames had remained green. That was a bit odd. Usually they returned to regular flame after someone stepped through to their destination. He didn’t notice the oddity.
He stood in front of the floo. “Hermione Granger’s room,” he said.
And stepped through.
THE END
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A/N: And that’s it! A bit of Christmas Fluff and a happy, happy ending. I feel pretty good about it too ;) It was OOC but hell, it’s Christmas. Thanks all. Please leave a final review.
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Chapter 10 ~ Severus Gets a Gift of His Own or F,C. Comes Thru
.
Snape and Hermione dozed for an hour or so. Snape awoke first, and looked at the time. It was almost dawn, and Hermione had to get back to Gryffindor Tower before sun-up. She was curled against him, her hair flung over her face. He gently pulled her chestnut locks away and looked down at her sleeping profile. Hermione may believe what they shared was her gift, but the Potions Master was very much aware that she had gifted him with something very precious. Something he would remember for the rest of his days. It wasn’t everyday a brilliant, beautiful virgin makes a wish that a snarky, sarcastic bastard of a Potions Master twice her age would deflower her. He was more thankful than she could ever know.
He leaned over her, placing his mouth close to her ear.
“Hermione. Hermione wake up. It is morning. You must get back to Gryffindor Tower,” he said softly. The witch opened her eyes and turned toward him, smiling. Her smile faded when she saw the sober look on his face.
“You must return to your house, Hermione,” he said.
The Professor rolled out of the bed and scourgified her, then himself. He then pulled on his nightshirt, and transformed the elf shirt into a robe for her.
Hermione rose out of the bed. Snape’s black eyes were locked to her body as he held the robe open for her to slip her arms into. He was trying to memorize every inch of her. Silently, Hermione slipped her arms into the sleeves, then buttoned up her robes.
Snape walked out into the study, followed by the silent witch. He knew he should say something, but he didn’t know what to say. He walked to the floo, and Hermione joined him there. The Professor lit a fire, reached into the box on the mantle, grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it into the flames. They turned green just as he suspected they would. Hermione had received her gift. She was free to go now.
“This will take you directly to your room,” Snape said to her, his black eyes resting on her face.
“Thank you, Professor,” she said, turning to enter the floo. Her use of his title displeased him a bit, even though they were not intimate now. It was probably best she returned to it, but it still irked him.
“Thank you, Miss Granger,” he said, using her formal name as well. He saw a flicker of something in her eyes when he said it, but it passed too quickly for him to identify.
Hermione started to enter the floo, but stopped and turned to him.
“Did it mean anything to you at all, Professor?” she asked him, her amber eyes dark.
Did it mean anything? Of course it meant something.
“Yes, Miss Granger. What you gave me meant…means very much to me. In one night you gave me more pleasure, joy and happiness than I have experienced in many, many years. I am grateful to you,” he said sincerely.
She looked at him.
“If…if …I were to come back to you…would you accept me? Could we do this again?” she asked him.
This was the reason the Potions Master had been so sober. The question of continuing with the beautiful witch.
“I’m afraid not, Miss Granger. And it isn’t because I wouldn’t love to have you in my bed again. I would. You are a jewel, and will probably haunt my dreams from now until I leave this earth. But as long as I serve the Dark Lord, I cannot risk you being discovered. Voldemort would kill us both. I do not participate in the Dark Revels because I am supposed to be impotent. As you know, I am not. Coupled with you having muggle parents, that would be enough for him to murder us both. I am not afraid of death, Miss Granger, but I wouldn’t have you taken from the wizarding world because of me. You have a brilliant life ahead of you. So you see, as long as I am serving Voldemort, I have to be alone,” Snape said, truly sorry to have to tell her this.
Hermione looked at him. She could tell that he was telling her the truth of his situation. He was right too. She would be a danger to him. She knew he was a spy and if Voldemort got hold of her, he would most likely be exposed.
“If-if you didn’t have to serve Voldemort…would you accept me then?” she asked him.
He looked down at the beautiful, young witch who had just given him the sweetest gift he had ever received in his life, and sighed deeply.
“I would most definitely accept you, Miss Granger. Into my bed, and if you were inclined, into my heart. When you leave here, my world will be much darker than before you came to me. But this is how my life is, Miss Granger. With Voldemort alive, I must live a life of loneliness. I’m sorry,” he said. He wanted to embrace her, to feel her body pressed against his one more time, but denied himself. It was better to make a clean break.
“I’m sorry too, Professor. I would have been so inclined,” she said softly. She turned to the floo and said, “My room in Gryffindor Tower,” then stepped through the flames and disappeared.
Snape stared after her. She had said practically said she would have accepted him as her lover if things were different. Maybe even more than a lover. But that was something that would never happen. Snape stood before the floo a moment, then slammed his fist violently against the wooden mantelpiece, almost upsetting the box of floo powder. He drew several breaths to calm himself. Raging about what could have been would not help things.
He turned to walk back to his bedroom, planning on wrapping himself in the sheets. They would still smell of the witch. As he headed for his room, he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw what looked like a newspaper, wrapped with a large red bow sitting on his writing desk.
A newspaper? What kind of lousy gift was that?
Curiously, he walked over to the desk. It was a newspaper all right. A folded copy of the Daily Prophet. There was a tag on it. He read it.
To Professor Severus Snape. Happy Christmas. F.C.
Snape scowled. If this was Father Christmas’ idea of a decent gift, he needed to retire. He started to walk away, but felt compelled to look at the newspaper. He pulled the bow off and opened it to the front page. He looked at it, his eyebrows raised. Then his eyes went wide as saucers as he reread the headline:
LORD VOLDEMORT IS DEAD!
Dark Lord Chokes to Death on Pheasant Bone at Annual Christmas Feast
Snape read the article. It seems the Dark Lord was talking with his mouth full and a pheasant bone somehow got lodged in his throat. No one was able to save him. Snape doubted if anyone really tried.
For the first time in many, many, many years, Severus Snape smiled. A broad, heartfelt smile that felt like it would never, ever leave his face. It was a miracle…it was an answered prayer…it was…
Snape paused. He remembered yesterday afternoon, when he was forced to face Father Christmas. The man had said to him, “Surely there is something you want.” And his first thought was to be free of Voldemort. He hadn’t said it out loud, but it was his deepest wish.
He looked at the headline again. His next thought was of Hermione and the smile returned. And he found he didn’t care who saw it.
“Thank you, Father Christmas,” he said under his breath.
He walked quickly to the floo, still dressed in his nightshirt. The flickering flames had remained green. That was a bit odd. Usually they returned to regular flame after someone stepped through to their destination. He didn’t notice the oddity.
He stood in front of the floo. “Hermione Granger’s room,” he said.
And stepped through.
THE END
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A/N: And that’s it! A bit of Christmas Fluff and a happy, happy ending. I feel pretty good about it too ;) It was OOC but hell, it’s Christmas. Thanks all. Please leave a final review.