Snapey Went A Courting

Snapey Went urtiurting

It all belongs to Rowling, except what you don’t recognize.

Chapter 11 – Zorba the Snape


Snape lay in his bath and willed his muscles to unknot. e ise is good pain and bad pain. This was good pain, created for a cause—his cause being the winning of the mother of his child. Spending the night on her couch had been only slightly easier than sleeping on a bed of nails. But at least it meant that she was beginning to trust him, to depend upon him and to need him.

The House Elves had done him a priceless good turn. She was so scared of what could happen, and with good reason they were nasty little blighters, that she had practically melted into him. He would have preferred to spend the night in her bed holding her and soothing her, but he couldn’t afford to move too quickly. Besides, little Saccius did seem to wake quite frequently. No wonder the girl was a wreck; she hadn’t had a decent night’s rest in days, perhaps weeks. But it all went to his advantage. He chuckled and started to soap himself.

After the House Elves had departed, Hermione had clung to him and he had stroked her wild mof tof tangled hair. He had convinced her to get some rest while he walked the babe up and down until he settled back to sleep. But then there were the feedings and changings: 11:50 feeding/changing; 2 AM feeding; 3:42 feeding/changing; 4:15 changing and then the 5 AM feeding/changing and playtime at which point Snape excused himself to return home. Snape felt rather bleary and out of focus. Sleep deprivation was one of the tortures that the Dark Lord—ooops, Voldemort had used when wishing to entertain himself, funny that-- how a person would grovel and become completely irrational after only a day or two without rest! The Death Eaters would sit around and just laugh themselves silly with those victims. It had been one of the less nocuous entertainments. Snape didn’t want to remember those awful days. He really needed to put them behind him now!

He supposed there was something to be grateful for that he wasn’t living with Hermione and his son! He had asked when the child would learn to sleep through the night and had received a dirty look, which indicated ‘don’t ask.’ He let the matter drop.

Finding accommodations suitable for his new family was on his To Do list, but there were things of a much higher priority still to be done if he was to be ready for the new school semester. His heart ached. Even with the lack of sleep, he wanted to be there with them. His family.

&&&

Hermione tossed and turned in her bed.

She was running. She was out of breath, nearly tripping over her own feet at times. She had to reach her son and get him to safety. They were there, behind her. A whole pack of them, laughing and gibbering. What had she done? Elves had been mankind’s worst magical enemy until they had been captured and enslaved as House Elves. What had she been thinking trying to free them? What would control their malevolence now they were freed?

She found herself trapped in an alleyway. There was a sudden pop as a Wizard Apparated. He was tall and dark, wearing black robes with a hooded cape hiding his identity. He lifted his hands and incanted a spell. With a blinding flash of light, the House Elves disappeared. The Wizard turned to Hermione and pushed back his hood. It was Harry! He had his long hair curled in ringlets and was wearing false eyelashes, thick blue eye makeup, rouge and lipstick. He dropped his robe and cape to the floor and Hermione saw he was dressed like Dr. Frank-N-Furter in the Rocky Horror Picture Show film she’d rented a few weeks back!

He put his hands out to Hermione. “They made me into a weapon,” he stated. His hands were thick with blood.

“No, no,” she shook her head and started to back away.

“Hermione, heal me!”

“I can’t, Harry.”

“I want—“

Hermione turned and ran again.

She kept running and saw that she was in Diagon Alley. She tripped and fell and a pair of strong arms grasped her and lifted her up. It was a Death Eater. She looked into his eyes and thought she recognized them. She slapped the mask away and saw it was Professor Snape!

He smirked at her, “Stupid Girl! No running in the hallways. Detention, now!” He continued to grasp her arm and pulled her behind him as he walked.

She tried to pull out of his grip. “No. I don’t want to. Don’t make me go.”

He stopped and turned to her. He looked at her with lust in his eyes. “Trade you. Fuck me and you don’t have to go.”

Hermione slowly began to undo her robes. Her breath was catching in her throat because she knew it was wrong. You didn’t trade sex for getting out of detention. But she couldn’t help herself. The last button came undone and she lay back naked on the ground. It was cold and her nipples became hard pebbles. She felt aroused.

He took off his Death Eater robes and she saw he was wearing Muggle blue jeans and a simple black tee shirt underneath. The muscles of his arms revealed themselves through the shirt and she realized that though he was slim he was quite wiry. There was a throbbing between her legs. She spread them wide for him and then, after wetting a finger, touched herself. She saw his eyes narrow and the bulge in his jeans grew larger.

She swallowed, “I’m ready for you, big boy,” and giggled at his look of dismay.

He undid the buttons on his fly and pulled them down. His penis was large, reddish purple and veined. There was a glistening at the head and Hermione wanted to touch it. She wanted it to be hers. He just stood there and she felt there was something else she should say.

“Please, Sir?”

He nodded and kneeled over her, pressing the head of his cock to her cunny. She moved her legs back and forth impatiently.

“Hold still or you will be hurt,” his voice was cool and analytical, but there was a trace of something else as well.

She wanted to explain that her hymen was gone. She’d had a baby. But her throat was paralyzed with desire so she nodded mutely.

His body came over her and she felt him entering her. His black eyes were fastened on hers and she wondered if he would kiss her. She wanted that, but the thought was lost as she felt the pressure of him in her, going deeper and deeper. New sensations were flooding her body and she wanted to scream out. Instead she raked her nails along his arms, leaving little trails of blood.

He pulled out and this time went back into her much more force. She gasped and brought her legs up, creating more space for him. Again and again, he thrust into her, filling her, and finally Hermione began to feel something build deep inside. Something magical and special.

She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the feelings erupting in her center. His movements were almost punishing as she felt both pleasure and pain with every stroke. He sped up and she listened to the heaviness of his breathing and the small grunting noises that he made. She sensed he would be climaxing soon and she tensed her body. The movement triggered a spasm in her vagina and suddenly she was experiencing an orgasm more intense and prolonged than she had ever felt before. Suddenly, he cried oud shd she felt his hot liquid come into her. Her own body continued to spasm rhythmically.

Hermione awoke with her body still twitching from her orgasm. Amazing things these hormones were. She’d never had such a dream before in her life. She thought about it a little before turning over and trying to get back to sleep. But then she heard Waldo stirring from the bassinette next to her and she latched him on before he could become upset.

Hermione wondered if she was falling in love with the professor. No, more like lust it was. Her damned body was just overflowing with chemicals controlling her behaviors. A little kiss here, and a massage there and she was dripping for him! But his behavior was all quite deliberate and calculated on his part, wasn’t it? She was quite sure that Professor Severus Snape was a very dangerous man. Strange, she liked him better when he was just the “greasy git.”

&&&

“Creevey,” said Aloysius Finkelstar the editor of the Daily Prophet. “I trust you, boy. Your stories are mean, but clean and I do think you will go far.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, this story, Scandal at Hogwarts. You know there are some powerful people connected there.” Finkelstar took a large gulp from his mug of tea.

“Sir. Yes, Sir.” Creevey straightened his spine, ready to run the gauntlet.

“I trust you can back up what you say?”

“It’s in the book. Eleven years from now, a certain Waldo Saccius Snape-Granger will be attending Hogwarts. It’s better than DNA testing.”

“What’s a DNA—oh, never mind. How you’d get to see the book?”

“Does it really matter?”

“Of course it does.”

“Well, sir, I do my best work at night, sir. So last night I used my contact at St. Mungos to ascertain if she had indeed given birth and then I went to Hogwarts. The Headmaster was still on holidays, so I was able to get the caretaker, Filch, to let me into the Headmaster’s office, for an article I was writing about Hogwarts. There I checked the book.” Creevey left out the combination of bribery and blackmail he’d used. Nothing ever worked as well as a combo of carrot and stick!

“Good-O, I like to see solid, quality work,” Finkelstar nodded with pleasure. “Not like that last story. Your sources weren’t too realizable on that one.”

“Yes,” said Creevey remembering the dressing down he’d received. “Live and learn. This time I checked it all quite thoroughly.”

“And you have a particularly deft hand for words. Well, your story is going to press and will be out by 6:30 AM, in our morning edition. We’ve given it front page. Good work, man. Good work.” He slapped Creevey on the back.

Creevey smiled. He’d go home, wash up and get some rest. Staying up and working straight through on the story had been worth it. Yes, he’d own the paper one day.

&&&


“Say Ronny,” said Trini, the bright one, who was lying across the bed, reading.

“Oy?” Ron was just coming out to the bathroom aas das drying his hair.

“Weren’t you friends with a certain Hermione Granger,” she asked waving the Morning Edition of the Daily Prophet.

“Keep it down you two,” said Sally, the touchy one, as she put a pillow over her head. “I didn’t sleep too well last night.”

“That’s your problem. Told you not to have a second Knickerbocker Glory.” Said Gertie, (the one with the huge tatas and a bottom to match) poking Sally in the stomach.

“Stop it, Gertie,” whined Sally. “She’s being mean to me.”

”Now, girls,” smirked Ron. “Less cattiness in the ranks, please.”

“Anyway,” continued Trini, rolling her eyes. “The little tart is in the papers.”

“Oooh,” said the harem in chorus as the all scurried over to have a look-see.

“Hey, give it here,” said Ron, having been pushed out of the way by his girls. “She’s my friend.”

“Some friend,” said Sally.

“A right piece of trash,” chimed in Gertie.

“Oww, the poor Professor,” Trini said, pointing to the caption, “War Hero Seduced by Wooly Haired Temptress.”

“Poor Professor my arse!” yelled Ron going red in the face as he scanned the front page. “She should sue.”

“But she did have a baby out of wedlock, didn’t she?” said Babs, the sensible one. “So it’s not libel, I mean the nasty bits are all innuendo. Unless they made up the part about the name, Waldo, oh she could sue for that one, all right.”

“I’ve got to go to her.” Ron slipped his underwear on under his towel.

“Settle down, Ronny!” said Trini. “The coach would have your nadgers. Here,” she rummaged around in her purse, “Use my cell mirror.”

“Hmm. I don’t think she’s hooked up. Let me try Harry.”

&&&

Potter was still wearing smears of make up from last night’s nightclubbing. He heard the mirror go off and quickly did a clean up spell before turning the thing on. He glanced over his shoulder at Daisy. She was still asleep so he headed into the loo.

“Harry! Are you there?”

“Ron, what’s wrong? Anyone ill, it’s really early.”

“Not when you are training non-stop. I’ve got ten minutes to be on the pitch for warm-ups or I’m in trouble. So let me make this quick. The paper’s found out about Hermione.”

“Oh Bloody Hell,” Potter sat on the side of the tub. “Look, I’ll head right over and see what I can do.”

“Right then. Thanks, Harry.”

“No, thank you for the heads up.”

Harry came out of the loo.

“Oh, Daisy you’re awake. Look, I’ve got to be going.”

“I don’t think so Harry,” said Daisy with a small smile.

“What?”

“Ron never called,” her hands made an arc in the air.

Harry’s face went blank and he repeated in a monotone, “Ron never called.”

“Very good, love,” Daisy snapped her fingers.

“Oh, Daisy, say it’s early.”

“Yes, you silly thing. I woke up said I was thirsty, you went to the sink and came back without my water.”

“Sorry.”

“Never mind. Since you’re on evening shift this week,’s j’s just head back to bed.” She kissed him warmly and took him by the hand.

&&&

Silence rd atd at the Head Table. Total, complete silence. Alicia stroked Lupin’s hand under the table. Professor McGonagall had gone deathly pale.

Madam Pomfrey arrived and took her place. “Good Morning All. You know coming in I thought my clock must have been off and I’d missed breakfast, it’s so quiet.”

McGonagall handed the paper to her.

“OH FUCKING SHITE!” Her voice echoed around the Great Hall.

“My sentiments exactly, Poppy,” deadpanned McGonagall.

“When is Professor Dumbledore returning?” asked Lupin barely above a whisper.

“Too soon. Whenever it is, it will be too soon,” said Professor Sprout solemnly.

&&&

There was a frantic knocking on Snape’s door. He came out to answer it, cursing the fact that he’d only managed an hour or two of rest.

“Filch, this had better be good.”

The man got down on his knees and literally crawled through the door. “I’m beggin’ yer forgiveness. Hit me, hex me, whip me. Just don’t tell Dumbledore that I did it.” There were tears in the Squib’s eyes.

“Have you gone insane? Are you drunk?”

The red-eyed caretaker shook his head and rubbed his nose against his sleeve. Trembling, he handed over the Morning Edition of The Daily Prophet. “I let the reporter into Headmaster’s office. It sounded like a simple enough request, to interview one of the portraits for his 400th Birthday. I didn’t know you’d knocked up the Mudblood.” He started sobbing.

Snape left Filch on the floor and walked into his rooms where he poured himself a very hefty fire whiskey. Most of the article was total venomous tripe all directed against Hermione, but in some places he had been quoted verbatim—things that he had said to the Hag and her associate while in their offices.

The room seemed to spin about him. Hermione would never forgive this. And how could either she or his son ever return to the Wizarding World?

&&&

Achlys Snape nee Papakonstantinakopoulos sat in her boudoir and opened the Morning Edition of The Daily Prophet. She started to choke on her very sweet, demitasse of Greek coffee.

“The miserable bastard…” the rest of her words spun out into a series of foul and obscene Ionic curses.

Then she started laughing.

“Who would have thought it? I, Achlys Snape, grandmother to a Mudblood bastard? That shitty wanker of a son of mine really knows how to get revenge. Well, good for him. Maybe there’s some Greek blood in him after all. Maybe he finally grew himself a set of balls.”

She looked in her mirror and began a series of glamors, one carefully laid on after another to transform her hooked nosed, sallow skinned, deepinedined and shadowed face into a thing of rigid, icy beauty…

“I shall have to visit the Mudblood bitch and her little whelp and wish them luck.”

As her cackle sounded throughout the empty halls of Snape Manor, the House Elves held each other and quaked in terror.


A/N: Big Hugs and thanks to my reviewers: Deb, Irol, Luna, DeblovesDragon, Spaz141, Mele, and Mary Kay.