Naughty Snippets

Snippet #11 (HG/SS)
First Love

Professor Severus Snape sat in a chair in a Hogsmeade motel room, looking at Hermione Granger, his sixth-year student, who was sitting on a four-poster bed in a pink blouse and white skirt, her hair drawn back in a ponytail. They were about to have sex and it was all Hermione’s doing.

The seventeen-year-old witch thought it sheer madness to write a letter to her Potions Professor telling him that she was terribly attracted to him and had very erotic dreams about him nightly. It might have been madness, but it didn’t stop her from writing it. She went on to say that she was the age of consent and well able to make her own decisions concerning what to do with her body and that the dreams were distracting her and affecting her marks. She ended the letter by saying she needed to do something about them.

Professor Snape had noticed a marked change in Hermione’s work. Her essays and reports were not as carefully structured as usual, the witch’s usual clear logic, scattered and difficult to follow. Also her test marks were lower as well. The Professor required answers in full, clear sentences and again, Hermione’s work was terribly unfocused. Not that he gave her proper marks anyway, but that was more to keep her working hard rather than meanness on his part, although he was perfectly capable of meanness.

But he did appreciate Hermione’s mind and it was disturbing to see such a bright student…well…dulling.

Hermione’s situation was apparently affecting her marks in more than his class. In the staff room, he heard other teachers trying to figure out what was wrong with the normally brilliant witch.

”I’d say she was in love, but I’ve never seen her with anyone but Mr. Weasley and they no longer are involved. I don’t believe they found themselves compatible. As sweet as Mr. Weasley is, he is not in Hermione’s class,” Minerva said to Pomona.

When the dark wizard first found the parchment on his desk in his office, he read it and threw it into the garbage. The witch was stark raving nutters if she thought he’d have a tryst with her for the sake of her marks. It was inappropriate.

For the next few days, Professor Snape treated Hermione very coldly, not even mentioning her letter. He would see the witch looking at him longingly out of the corner of his eye, and it irritated him. Still, her marks didn’t improve and she almost failed a pop quiz concerning subject matter he had just gone over half an hour before. She hadn’t absorbed his lecture at all. Even Potter scored higher than she did.

It was when Hermione began to physically show signs of difficulty that the wizard began to truly worry. She wasn’t a Slytherin, but again…her intelligence was something Snape found pleasure in. He had very little in his life to bring him pleasure so the witch’s turn for the worst affected him.

Up to this point, Hermione had always been aggravatingly chipper and eager whenever she entered class, and loved to participate to the point the wizard had to tell her to shut up and let other students answer his questions.

Now, she came to class with a dull look in her eyes and became excited about nothing. Even when they were to do difficult potions she showed very little interest. And when she walked through the halls, if someone called her…they had to do so at least three times before she responded. It was as if she couldn’t hear them.

Professor McGonagall had her sent to the infirmary for a full examination to see if the witch was physically ill, but Poppy could find nothing wrong with her. Perhaps if Hermione had someone she could share her secret with, she might have been better able to deal with it…but she dared tell no one she wanted to shag Professor Snape.

No one but him. And he hadn’t responded.

Hermione wasn’t about to write him again. It had been hard enough the first time and she had broken into his office to leave the parchment. She had been rather surprised he didn’t take her to task about that, but clearly he didn’t want to talk about any of it.

The rock cake that broke the Thestral’s back came when Snape heard that Albus was considering sending Hermione back home to her parents and having her return to Hogwarts the following year.

“It’s obvious that Miss Granger has burned out,” the Headmaster said to her teachers in a special meeting which Snape attended, “After consulting with Poppy, I am considering sending her home to take a bit of a rest. Her condition only seems to be getting worse.”

”But Albus, that would mean she wouldn’t graduate with her class,” Minerva said, “It hardly seems fair. She’s worked so hard.”

Albus looked at the Transfiguration Professor sadly.

”It is a matter of her health and well-being, Minerva. If there were anyway I could bring her out of this slump, I would. But there appears to be nothing anyone can do.”

Snape just listened to Hermione’s future being bandied about. He normally wasn’t very sympathetic to the problems of others…he had enough problems of his own being a spy for the Order and no one went through more than he did.

So he even surprised himself when he turned up at Albus’ office later that evening and told him about Miss Granger’s letter to him.

The Headmaster didn’t look as surprised as the Professor thought he should when he learned of Hermione’s infatuation with him.

”I knew the witch was in love. I just couldn’t figure out with whom,” the Headmaster mused as Snape looked at him shocked.

“Love? Headmaster, the witch is not in love…she’s in heat,” the pale wizard said, frowning at him.

”To the young, it’s the same thing, Severus,” Albus replied, his eyes twinkling, “A young witch will pine over her beloved until it affects every aspect of her life. It’s always the ‘first love’ that does this. After she learn a few things, she'll toughen up and get right.”

”But Headmaster, what Miss Granger wants to ‘learn’ is highly inappropriate,” the Potions Master said.

“Is it really, Severus? She is the age of consent and a young woman now. The desire for sex is quite natural,” Albus replied.

“But with me? I don’t believe that is natural, Headmaster. I am twice her age. Now if she were to be pining after a wizard closer to her own age, I’d agree with you,” Snape said, “But as it stands…I can’t see this at all.”

“You can’t see it, Severus, because you’re not looking through the eyes of a witch who recognizes just how special a man you are,” Albus said soberly, “Your perceptions of yourself are largely based on the negative feedback you get from others…negative feedback that, I must say, you purposely generate to keep people away. Miss Granger obviously sees past that.”

“Albus, look at me. I am not attractive and I am certainly not nice. I have done nothing to warrant that girl’s twisted attraction. If anything, she’s probably some kind of masochist and I’m a…a fantasy of some type,” he said, “She probably dreams about me tying her up and browbeating her about marks as I abuse her.”

Albus scowled at him.

”That ‘young woman’ probably thinks that you are intelligent, experienced and worthy of love, Severus. Miss Granger is not your normal run-of-the-mill student. She shows much more maturity than most witches her age and does not spend her time chasing down young wizards. She thinks about the future and what she can do to make a difference. She is brilliant…and brilliance is attracted to brilliance. Not one young man at Hogwarts is her intellectual match, Severus. Knowledge is the key to Miss Granger’s heart, I believe. She needs someone who can understand her and stimulate her.”

”I am supposed to stimulate her mind, Albus…not her body,” the Professor said.

”Yes, but I’m afraid she sees you as someone who can…er…broaden her physical education as well, Severus. What you are supposed to do and what she wants you to do are two different matters except that both roles require you to be a ‘teacher,” the Headmaster replied, “Whatever the case, Severus, she is pining after you and it is affecting her negatively. If she doesn’t improve, I will be forced to take her out of school. She can’t go on like this.”

“She won’t take that well,” the Potions Master said.

Albus shook his head.

”Actually, I did discuss the possibility of it with her…if you can call her staring at me rather blankly and just nodding her head ‘discussing.’ It was as if she didn’t care. She said, ‘Whatever you decide Headmaster, will be fine.’ I will make my decision at the end of the week. That’s four days from now.”

Hermione not caring if she left Hogwarts? This was serious.

Snape rubbed his hand over his pale face. Was the witch really that enamored of him that she would throw away everything she worked so hard for? Of course she could come back the following year, but the question was…would she? Or would she just let everything go?

The Potions Master sighed. Adolescence. Why couldn’t nature just take children directly to adulthood and skip over puberty altogether?

Albus watched the Potions Master, who looked back at him with irritation.

”I am not responsible for Miss Granger,” he stated firmly.

”No. No more than you are responsible for the safety and continued liberty of the entire wizarding world,” the old wizard said quietly.

Snape frowned at him. Albus was taking the old “you’re a noble wizard” line again without accepting the fact that the only reason he was working against Voldemort because he was the one wizard in the best position to do so. If Voldemort came into power, his life would be so much worse. It was a purely selfish motive that made him a spy for the Order. Or so Snape told himself.

“Albus, are you saying I should engage the witch?” the Professor asked him.

”I’m just saying it’s a shame she will have to leave Hogwarts if something isn’t done,” the Headmaster replied, dancing around the question.

Hermione was the age of consent, but Albus wasn’t about to tell a Professor in his employ to have sex with her with his blessing. If it got out, there would be major problems at Hogwarts and he would probably be replaced despite Hermione being of age. But as a private interaction, there was no law against it. Besides, it would be good for the dour wizard. There was no telling when the last time was that he engaged a witch of any age.

Severus excused himself and spent a long night contemplating the situation.

The next day, the Potions Master asked Hermione to stay after class was dismissed.

“Yes sir,” she said dully.

When class let out, the Potions Master warded the door shut and placed a silencing spell around the room so no one would inadvertently hear this discussion.

”Miss Granger, your pining after me is ridiculous,” he said to the witch sharply.

“I know,” she replied.

“It is affecting your marks and if you don’t straighten up, you will be sent home to ‘rest’ and not graduate with the rest of your class,” Snape said, crossing his arms.

Hermione just shrugged.

Snape blinked at her.

”Don’t you care that you are throwing away everything you worked so hard for? There are dozens of honors and acknowledgements awaiting you on that stage. Don’t you want to receive the fruits of your labors?” he asked the witch.

“It feels like I don’t care about anything, Professor,” Hermione said, “Everything seems so empty.”

”Because…because I won’t return your interest? That’s…that’s insane Miss Granger,” Snape snapped at her.

”Maybe I am insane then. It’s just the way I feel,” she said blandly, “Can I go now, Professor?”

Snape scowled at her. This “I don’t care” Hermione was infuriating. Nothing at all like the witch he’d come to grudgingly admire.

“No. You certainly may not go, Miss Granger. We need to sort this out,” he said.

Hermione looked at him tiredly.

”You’re wasting your time if you think talking to me is going to sort anything out, Professor. I dream about you every night. Every single night. It’s torture. An exhausting torture. Even sleeping draughts don’t help me. I’ve tried logic to stop it but it doesn’t work. There isn’t anything you can say to help me. The only thing that will help me is if you do something. And it’s clear that’s not an option. Maybe I will see you next year sir, and be in a better frame of mind,” the witch said, rising and gathering up her books.

Snape watched her in silence as she walked toward the door and tried to open it. She turned toward the wizard.

”Will you let me out, Professor?” she asked him, the same dull look in her eyes.

The wizard’s eyes flicked over her. She really was a well-formed seventeen, if short.

“Miss Granger, if I agreed to give you what you think you want from me, what is it you think you can gain other than a strictly physical interaction?” he asked her.

”I won’t know that until it happens, Professor,” Hermione replied, her eyes brightening somewhat.

The wizard sighed.

”For you to leave Hogwarts would be criminal, Miss Granger…but I must tell you that I feel I am being…blackmailed. If I don’t give in, Hogwarts is going to lose the brightest witch to come through its doors in fifty years. And if you don’t return to the school, then I will feel responsible for the wizarding world losing a witch that may one day do it an invaluable service. How does that make you feel?” he asked Hermione.

”A bit Slytherinish,” she responded with a small, rather wicked smile.

It was clear to see Hermione didn’t feel badly about putting the Professor through this at all. There was a little color to her face now.

Snape looked at her soberly.

”I suspect, Miss Granger, that you have felt that way for some time,” he said in a low voice, “Very well, you will meet me at the….”

And they made their plans. Hermione left the Potions classroom with a bit of her old jauntiness, the Professor studying her as she exited.

It seemed he did have a positive effect on her after all. It was a strange realization and not entirely unpleasant. As he returned to his private rooms, the wizard suddenly realized the actual physical reality of what he was going to do to the witch.

He was going to fuck Hermione Granger. He hadn’t had sex in almost three years. Dear gods.

He hoped she wasn’t a virgin.

*****************************************

So now, here he was…in a motel room with his student Hermione Granger. He had to admit she was showing more life and animation now than she had in the past three months. It had to be because of him.

They stared at each other, neither knowing how to proceed. Finally, Snape cleared his throat.

”Miss Granger, are you…a virgin?” he asked her.

Hermione nodded.

”Oh good grindelows,” the wizard groaned, his black eyes widening for a moment.

“Is…is that a problem, Professor?” Hermione asked him, her belly all in knots.

“It does make matters more complicated, Miss Granger. I was hoping Mr. Weasley had already stormed your gates as it were,” he replied, scowling slightly.

”Ron? Ew. No,” she said, then covered her mouth with her hand.

“I don’t mean to say that Ron isn’t cute…it’s just that he’s so…so…eager. It turned me off. I could imagine what it would be like. Like getting shagged by a rabbit or something,” she said, realizing afterwards that what she tried to cover with sounded even more awful than “Ew.”

Snape’s mouth quirked as he imagined Ron humping at an amazing speed. He almost smiled at the idea of it. Then he sobered.

“And me, Miss Granger? Do you imagine I’d be…rabbit-like?” he asked her.

Hermione colored.

”No. I mean…you’re older and you’ve done this before. I don’t think you’d be so eager,” she said, “You’d probably take your time. Have more…control.”

She flushed again, looking down at her hands.

Hmm. Albus had said that part of her attraction was most likely based on his experience. She was right…he wasn’t eager, but he was beginning to warm toward the witch. His lack of eagerness had more to do with his reservations concerning this whole matter, but it seemed Hermione did know what she wanted. The question was, how did she want it?

“Miss Granger, I need to know something. You said you dreamed about me often. Tell me, in those dreams…did I brutalize you, or browbeat you? Was I at all cruel to you?” he asked her.

“Oh no, not at all. You were very…very nice to me,” she said softly, “Not mean at all.”

The wizard let out a little sigh of relief. So she wasn’t a masochist. Thank the gods.

“Good. Now, I think it will help me in my approach to you if you give me some idea of what would transpire in those dreams,” he said to her softly, “As of right now, I’m not sure how to do that.”

Hermione felt her face flush again and hated it. She wanted to seem mature, but all this blasted blushing…

”All right. First…you didn’t call me ‘Miss Granger.’ You called me by my name, Hermione,” she said.

The wizard nodded.

“Go on,” he urged, feeling a little more warmth toward the witch.

”You sat down next to me, and let me touch your hair and your face, then you’d let me kiss you and soon you started kissing me back, and touching me. You were so gentle, and careful…and patient…”

Hermione’s eyes started to glaze as she told the wizard her dreams about him, no longer shy as she lost herself in the memory, her eyes going soft and hot.

“Then you started taking my clothes off me and off yourself at the same time, but…but things were very…very hot then and…well, you didn’t get my blouse off. See, you were naked first, and you got my knickers and skirt off, still kissing and touching me, and telling me I was beautiful…and how you couldn’t help yourself…and then…then you got on top of me and…and…”

Hermione started shuddering and licked her lips before she realized what she was doing and stopped, looking at the wizard with an almost frightened look on her face.

“And that’s how the dreams always go,” she said.

Snape was leaning forward in the chair now, completely taken by the way the witch looked as she described her dreams about him. So that was what she dreamed of, him being swept away by her.

“A rather nice dream, especially considering what kind of wizard was in the starring role. I am rather surprised that you believe I could be so…gentle knowing what you know of me,” Snape said, “There is nothing kind or gentle about me. I am a very cold and often cruel wizard. You’ve seen it for yourself at Hogwarts.”

”But this isn’t Hogwarts and you have no reason to be cruel to me now,” Hermione said softly, then, “you aren’t cruel in situations like this, are you Professor?”

It just occurred to Hermione that it was possible that Professor Snape was cruel during sex and might enjoy hurting her. She hoped he wasn’t like that.

“And if I were to tell you I was cruel in situations like this, Miss…Hermione? Would you want to leave?” he asked her quietly.

Hermione looked at the Professor, her eyes glistening slightly.

”No,” she said in a small voice, “I’d still want to be with you, though I’d hope you’d be kind to me, that maybe you wouldn’t want to hurt me.”

Severus looked at the witch. She trusted him. So few people trusted him fully. She looked so vulnerable, so…so…

The wizard stood up, crossed the room and sat down on the bed next to the young witch.

”I can be cruel, Hermione…but I won’t be,” he promised, “Now, you said I let you run your fingers through my hair…”

******************************************
The reality played out much as Hermione’s dream did, the wizard kissing her, caressing her and being patient and gentle as he disrobed the both of them, except his kisses went much further than her lips as did his caresses, the witch’s body responding to his slightest touch, Snape becoming intoxicated by her honest hunger for him and the way she shuddered when he touched her intimately, the scent of her clean and musky. He had to control himself, not wanting to overwhelm the witch. He didn’t make her perform any acts on him and other than kissing her body, he didn’t taste her nectar, though his mouth watered.

This was a much more pleasant extortion than he initially believed it would be. He thought the witch would be stiff and frightened, difficult. But Hermione was more than ready for him. And like her dream predicted, he never did get her blouse off, though he did lift it over her head and behind her neck, baring her lovely breasts.

And it was also like her dream when he murmured he was sorry but he couldn’t wait any longer and mounted her undulating body, nestling between them and finding her entrance. There was one tense moment when he penetrated her…he had to be strong then, groaning as she slid around him, her voice rising as she cried out under him, her hands gripping his arms, her nails digging into his flesh. He held steady until she was ready, then began to stroke her gently, his large cock parting her, filling her with his hardness, the young witch moaning with bliss and pleasure.

”Oh it’s so good, Professor,” she whispered, her amber eyes soft as they looked up at him.

”Yes, it is witch,” he agreed silkily, speeding up and hitting her a little harder, Hermione jerking sexily under him.

Damn, he was glad he’d given in.

When Hermione orgasmed for the first time, her pussy tightening and pulsing around him, the wizard did lose control, unable to keep from driving into the sweet body beneath him, his hips flying, growls of pleasure escaping him as he watched Hermione spread her legs wider and take him passionately.

Yes. She was beautiful.


[ ANIMATED IMAGE ]


After their encounter, Hermione’s marks improved dramatically, the witch doing tons of extra credit work in every class to bring them back to near perfection. In Potions class, she was back to her old, annoying self as well, Snape happily yelling at her at least once each class and skimming a couple of points in the process.

“It seems Hermione has snapped out of her funk,” Professor McGonagall said to Albus over supper as Hermione ate with a fork in one hand, leafing through a book with the other.

”Yes, it seems she has,” Albus agreed, his blue eyes twinkling.

Snape heard Minerva’s comment and heartily agreed, his black eyes shifting toward the witch. He had no intentions on staying away from Hermione…not after tasting her charms. He was her first…maybe…just maybe he could be her only.

He couldn’t wait until she graduated. Once she was clear of Hogwarts, then her real "education" would begin.

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A/N: Snippets with accompanying animations are available at http://www.theburningpen.com