Needfire

Chapter 13 – Silly Notions.


\"All won\'t be lost if I\'m governed by my own uniqueness
Stop lights won\'t work I\'ll get home sound and safe regardless
Won\'t deem me had if I\'m led by my own rulelessness
My fire wont quell and I\'ll be harm-free and distressless.\"

-- So Called Chaos. Alanis Morissette.


She lay on his torso, their legs entwined. One of her hands was resting on his chest, which almost hairless, and glowing in the moonlight. Her other hand was hanging loosely in the grass, the way Snape\'s raven locks and some of her own wild tresses streamed down her back, to curl around the sharp edge of a whispery grass stem.

October\'s wind was cold on her exposed skin, emphasizing the frenzied heat of those areas that rested against his body. And yet it seemed to lick away her sweat, caress her flushed cheeks in a gentle touch of scissor hands. There was a strange sensation of completion, beginning with the way her belly rounded into his flattening abdomen when she inhaled. It continued with his skin, which shone mysteriously in the light of the waning moon, and ended with the chill of the ground on which they were lying. The frosty earth seemed to melt a little in order to envelop them.

Snape\'s breathing underneath her ear was slowly returning to normal. Once more she lifted her gaze to look at the center altar: the stack of incense on the altar was still high. He had told her to take her time. Hermione had fully intended to, though now that her initial hunger was satisfied, she felt herself slowly clench back into her notorious self-consciousness; either shy, or cynical, or both.

He raised his hand, playing idly with her hair, and she sighed, angry at her indecisiveness.

\"Hermione? Is something the matter?\"

Slightly annoyed, she rose up and straddled his hips. Swinging her hair over her shoulder with a swift movement, she turned to look at him. His cock, she noted, was beginning to harden again. Curious, she shifted her position, and reached out to touch the glistening tip.

\"Why the smirk?\" Snape muttered.

She angled an eyebrow, satisfied at his reaction when she fondled his balls. \"You would probably rather not know.\"

\"Well, now I do.\"

\"Remember you promised not to take points,\" she warned him.

\"Vixen. Spit it out.\"

\"At first I thought you looked larger than Ron,\" Hermione told him in a matter-of-fact voice. \"But you aren\'t. I could feel it. A matter of proportion I suppose-\"

\"You\'re comparing me to Weasley??\" he roared.

She rolled her eyes. \"I told you you wouldn\'t like it. Anyway, who do you want me to compare you with? Harry?\"

\"Did you sleep with Potter?\"

\"It\'s none of your business.\"

He glared at her.

\"Would you have minded if I slept with Harry?\"

\"I thought it was none of my business,\" Snape said scornfully.

Ouch. I wonder if he knows how much this tone hurts. Most probably, he does. She looked at him with curiosity. Wasn\'t it the ability to master those tools he was gifted with, that she admired? What a wonderful fuck you are, Severus Snape, and what a terrible person. Do you ever hesitate before you stab? \"Well, perhaps I\'m making it your business,\" Hermione told him at last.

\"So did you sleep with Potter?\"

She examined him closely, knowing that the partial darkness would allow only sharp lines and starlight sparkle; too harsh to enable one to determine gentle sways of expression. Snape seemed to be angry: a proper remuneration for the fact she should want him to care, to be madly jealous. She probably was a total and complete fool, but she would have slept with Harry this very instant if she thought such an action could make him jealous. \"Would you have minded?\" she asked again.

His eyes were dark and inanimate in the moonlight. \"I would.\"

\"Well… But that\'s just Harry,\" Hermione concluded, hating herself for allowing a trace of disappointment to play in her voice. \"You despise everything that has to do with Harry.\"

\"So did you sleep with him?\"

She looked at Snape, horrified at the prospect. \"Of course I didn\'t! Harry is too much like a pet.\"

At that, Snape burst into laughter.

\"What\'s so funny?\"

\"It\'s just that I\'ve never heard the mighty Potter referred to in such a way.\"

\"You shouldn\'t talk about him that way,\" she exhorted. \"He is just a boy, and very sweet, kind and vulnerable at that.\"

Hermione was almost frightened by the venomous look in Snape\'s eye. \"Remind me, why are we talking about Potter?\"

\"Because pillow talk is not my strongest suit. It seems like I\'d either talk about school, or I\'d bewilder Ron with my silly notions.\"

\"Silly notion?\" He seemed to be curious.

\"Yeah, well,\" she leaned forward, smearing a bit of pre come along his slender, lovely cock. She wondered whether he\'d laugh, call her a silly girl, or perhaps give her one of those enigmatic looks, which might hide a treasure of secrets underneath his heavy eyelids, or only a grave, abysmal silence. I think I\'d rather have him laughing at me. \"I told him that on the day the war is over, I\'d like to walk bare breasted on Hogsmeade\'s main street,\" she said after a while, her gaze daring him to be silent.

Surprisingly enough, Snape met her eyes with quiet understanding. \"Like the French girl who greeted the Allies\' troopers marching into conquered Paris,\" he completed.

Hermione\'s face brightened at once. \"Yes, yes! Exactly so. It should be…\" she contemplated her words, gently stroking the erection of the man who dared to understand her. \"It should be the shedding of all confinements, throwing the damn war away, the damn nicknames away. The damn fear…\" Gently, she probed his knees apart, placing herself between them. \"I think I\'d like to suck you off. Would you mind that?\"

His eyebrow rose. \"Why?\"

She bit her lower lip. \"Because you understood.\"

\"I require no remuneration.\"

\"I know.\" She adjusted her position, sliding down Snape\'s hips, and licked him from the base of his cock to the purplish head. \"I want to do this anyway.\"

\"What is it to you?\" he groaned as she gently massaged the tip with her lips, flicking it with her tongue.

Hermione raised her head to look at him. \"Well, give it a moment\'s thought. Being a man, you can penetrate me, take me, own me. You breach me with your body. Personally I always thought that fellatio, when done right, is the closest thing to intercourse on the female side…\" A flush crept into her cheeks. \"You\'re lying helpless in front of me, I have you in my mouth, where I can close my teeth around you any moment I wish: I can give you pleasure or deny you pleasure- I am in control of you. It\'s somewhat, well, it\'s a little like taking.\"

\"Humm.\" Apparently amused by her answer, Snape leaned back into the grass. He stared up at the dark blanket of the night sky, perforated by the tiny fingers of little children who had once stuck small firelights into them.

Allowing her hair to curtain her face, Hermione leaned forward, and with one accurate movement, took the whole length of him into her mouth, flexing her laryngeal muscles to envelop Snape\'s erection. He gasped, and though she couldn\'t smile, was elated to see his famous self-control loosen as she began to make her way up his shaft, only to settle all the way down to the sack of his balls again.

It wasn\'t an activity she usually enjoyed: giving head was uncomfortable and stressful and sometimes revolting, and left her throat sore when she wasn\'t careful. Nevertheless, it was a beneficial tool to keep in her arsenal, and she\'d usually give Ron head at times he couldn\'t be pushed off otherwise. This, however, was different. She wanted to suck this man- she wanted to milk him, with her lips and tongue and the soft, velvety flesh of her inner cheeks- into bliss. She wanted to have him shatter to pieces under her touch.

Snape groaned, thrusting into her mouth, and she allowed him to set the pace, adding a twist of her tongue, increasing the pressure of her throat around the head of his cock. When he lifted his hands, she was sure he was about to bury them in her hair, and decided not to protest. However, he merely moved the sweat soaked curls out of her face, tucking them behind her ears or otherwise swaying them over her back.

\"Hermione…\" his voice was coarse and husky, deprived of its significant smoothness, and all the more beautiful in her eyes because of it. \"Hermione...Merlin...stop, I\'m about to --\"

He couldn\'t see the smile dancing in her eyes- she felt utterly, stupidly grateful. No reason, really, yet she did. And without ever hesitating, increased the intensity of the suction. Only moments later, she felt Snape\'s body arch, his testicles tightening under her skillful hand, and closing her eyes, swallowed the eely liquid that spurted into her throat. When the spasms died at last, she let go of his cock, gently licking away the last trace of semen. Wiping her mouth, she came back to lay beside him, curling against his body.

The grass was cold and moist under her body; she was aroused enough not to think of all the little creatures roaming in it, as well as avoiding the thought of the dirt- the soil… the solid ground underneath this prickly cover of grass. Instead, she focused on the warm, bright body beside her; milky skin shining in the waning moon\'s light. An ugly Elf, she thought, snuggling closer. It was bound to make him special, wasn\'t it? She could still taste him, not quite like Ron, but lighter, sweeter. There was no suffocating need to rinse her mouth and she wasn\'t completely sure she wanted to. With his essence still in her mouth, he was still somewhat hers, and she was still somewhat his. She licked her lips, ambiguously owning him by the act.

\"Well.\"

Hermione frowned, the cool slide of his voice wrapping around her thoughts suddenly reminding her of her openness as to the whole ordeal, making her a little uncomfortable with everything, now that the deed was done. \"Well.\"

\"What?\"

\"Nothing,\" she murmured, unsure what she should be feeling. Ron used to thank her and she supposed it would only be customary, but then, Snape never followed the rules.

\"That was… exceptional,\" he said at last.

\"You make it sound like some sort of bizarre dish that was forced on you.\"

\"Silly girl.\"

\"Yes, well,\" she grumbled, retreating to sit with her legs drawn to her body. \"Perhaps I am. I\'m used to civil partners.\"

\"It was meant as a compliment.\"

She thought she heard him sitting up, and not long after an arm was wound around her, drawing her to a masculine chest. For a moment, she was afraid, when irrationally, the arm became a wire curling around her leg; biting into the soft flesh of her neck: two figures slumped on a leather sofa, the large, masculine one enveloping the little in a bear-like hug, a strong-but-gentle hand sneaking to caress and stroke places it should never have touched. Then Snape was whispering in her ear once again, and the moment of panic was gone, allowing her to relax into his embrace.

\"Very well,\" Hermione said softly. \"Thank you.\"

\"I would like to return the favour.\" His lips browsed gently in the curls near her ear. \"Is there something you would like?\"

She considered his offer. \"Well, it really depends.\"

\"Depends on what?\"

She blushed, wondering if he could feel the heat spreading over her sternum. \"Well… Amm… How long before you\'re ready again?\"

\"A while,\" he answered, apparently undisturbed by the subject. Hermione wondered whether his ease should make her comfortable too, or tickle her sensibilities, reminding her how much more experienced he was. \"I\'m not seventeen anymore,\" Snape continued. \"Nevertheless, not all sex demands a cock, dear apprentice.\"

\"I know, I know,\" she said impatiently, angry to have her flush deepen. \"The problem is… well,\" damn, it doesn’t get easier. And I thought explaining things to Ron was awkward! \"I don\'t like, well, there are certain things I don\'t like. It took me a while to teach Ron to do things the way I enjoyed. Then, I suspect, he received some tips from Harry, and I had to return to the basics all over again. It was downright…\" awkward? Bewildering? Flustering? \"Tiring.\"

\"Tell me what you enjoy, then.\" That soft, melted-snow voice was purring in her ear, dissolving her into liquid, sticky sugar.

\"It\'s not… it\'s just…\"

\"Tell me what you enjoy, and I\'ll do it.\"

She swallowed, blushing fiercely. How could any woman in her right mind resist this voice? I am pliant sugar in his arms. \"All right. I want your mouth…\"

\"Then my mouth you shall have,\" he murmured.

Chuckling, he lay her down on the grass, positioning himself between her legs. He kissed her inner thigh, moving along to the slope of her mound of Venus, but stopped when she cleared her throat.

\"Well, um…\" her flush deepened even further. \"Now you\'re messing around. You see, I\'m already aroused, I don\'t want you to… well.\"

Snape looked at her with a devious glint in his eyes, and she was enormously relieved to see he wasn\'t offended. Quite the contrary, actually. Within an instant, his lips were fastened to her engorged clitoris, sucking with fervency. She cried out, nearly arching off the ground, with only Snape\'s strong hand to keep her from falling… or flying… like the cloak, kept inside the Stones circle of power.

\"Like that?\" he teased her.

\"Yes…! Yes!\"

She thought he smiled against her moistened flesh, gently biting the sensitive nub.

\"Fingers?\"

\"Yes…\" she moaned.

At that, one long, clever finger plunged up her tunnel, immediately joined by a second. Snape\'s fingers, she realized, between one cry of pleasure and the next, were longer and thinner than Ron\'s. \"Yes, oh God…! Please…\" A third finger joined the other two. She threw back her head, the combined pleasure his fingers moving skillfully inside of her and a knowing mouth on her clit slowly undoing her.

\"Like that?\" he asked again

\"Yes, yes, don\'t stop!\"

He didn\'t. And the starlight blazed in her eyes when she came; so intensely she thought she might break his fingers.

* * *

When she opened her eyes at last, the Needfire was finally lapping away the last of the incense, golden blue flames consuming the offering and leaving only roses of ash on the altar. She yawned lazily, stretching against the long, warm body at her side. Snape, she evaluated, wasn\'t as masculine as Ron, but rather thin and finely formed like Harry; with the same attention to small details with which a master doll-maker might imbue his creations. The sharp, unequivocal lines of bone and muscles were softened by luxurious, blue-white skin; delicate and pure. Acrid fumes bubbling from iron cauldrons could not scorch it. She thought he looked gaunt, but even in his thinness there was strength rather than fragility: even when naked, those long, well kept muscles held the same appearance of restrained power. Not pretty – with shoulders too thin, spinal column too prominent and protruding hipbones – but eloquent.

He was moving now, not bothering to cover his nakedness, and offered his hand to her. \"Come- we should wash the altar.\"

They worked in silence: this time, he let her pour the blessed water on the Stone.
She could see that their stones, one rounded, one sharp, still rested on the altar, but his stone was changed. The angular, yet apparently fragile tip had cracked and broken from the rest of the stone. She knew they were both looking at it, and wondered if he felt something similar to the superstitious thrill that chased over her skin like the October wind. Snape moved the two stones from the altar and set them on the ground nearby. She wondered if they were warm at all from their time in the Needfire. How could a cold flame shatter a cold stone? When she handed him the flask of oak water, silently stretching out her hands, he didn\'t say a word, but merely poured but the rest of the water on her arms and palms.

Hermione closed her eyes, gasping as the cold water seemed to blossom into frost on her exposed skin. Trickling downward, droplets landed with a soft spatter on the Stone. Snape, noting her reaction was immediately behind her; long, tapered fingers stroking her wrists where the frigid water chilled her skin. She felt a moment of trepidation, locked between him and the stone altar, then cried out in frustration when he backed away, withdrawing his body heat.

\"What is it now?\"

\"I don\'t know!\" she cried, reaching to take his hands and place them around her waist. \"Hold me.\"

\"I... should not hold you now that the rite is over,\" he said stiffly, releasing his hands and pulling away from her.

Turning to face him, she saw him quickly corking the empty flask and retreating to pick up their clothes.

\"You were not supposed to sleep with me in the first place,\" she spat, stung beyond measure by his rejection.

\"The ritual requires-\"

\"Oh, it\'s a great thing, this Samhain ritual; it qualifies one to have sex with one\'s students. Absolutely wonderful.\"

Snape\'s face hardened, or better said: emptied and turned into the blank mask he used to wear in class. Black slates for eyes, and his sallow milieu for fabric- quite like a Death Eater\'s mask, or the one condemned men were forced to wear; white faced and black hearted while the Auto Da Fe\'s flames cleansed their soul.

\"Ten points from Gryffindor.\"

She gaped. \"You fucking bastard! You said you wouldn\'t take points!\"

\"I changed my mind.\"

\"Good for you! I gather that I can change my mind as well and go report your behaviour to Professor McGonagall?\"

\"Do it, and bear the consequences.\"

\"Are you threatening me?\"

\"I\'m merely stating the facts.\"

She clenched her jaw, realizing all of a sudden that he was fully clothed while she was completely naked. Probably got dressed while I was raging at him, the bloody prick. At first, it made her want to hide, and instinctively, she felt her hands beginning to climb up, to cover her bare breasts. She had changed her mind with her hands mid way to her chest. Why cover what he had already seen? What she had no reason to be ashamed of? He was the one who had told her this was her truer, purer form, and while Hermione felt the urge to retreat into her clothing, she felt stronger for the knowledge that she could face him naked. There was strength in her nakedness, and she was beginning to realize that.

Dropping her hands, she looked at her mentor; chased into his shell by his own nightmares, whatever they might be- she knew enough of fear and pain to know she wasn\'t the one to drive him away. Damn it, but she was stronger, not in every aspect, surely not stronger than him, but she was strong enough to let the frosty air rip through her layers of anger and clear her blurry vision. \"Okay, okay,\" she said, waving her hands as if to chase away an interfering ghost. \"You might be an idiot, but I\'m not letting your idiocy scare me off. You should know I don\'t approve of this display of twisted logic… it was rather offensive, to say the truth. But I trust your judgment when it comes to other subjects and- and I know I have much to learn from you. Still- I would appreciate it if you would stop this foolish deduction of points and don\'t ever threaten me.\"

\"When you learn to respect me-\"

\"Do you think deducting points would earn you my respect?\" she yelled.

\"It certainly earns me my students\' obedience,\" he answered frostily, calm against her heated outburst.

\"It earns you their fear! They obey you because they fear you, not because they respect you!\"

Snape\'s eyes flashed with anger. \"Do you think I don\'t know that?\"

\"I don\'t know! Until lately I thought not… ask me now, and I would honestly tell you I have no idea.\" She ran her hands through her hair, groaning in frustration. \"Why is it you treat your students the way you do? Do you enjoy being an object of fear?\"

\"I don\'t think that is any of your business.\"

\"No,\" she said. \"I don\'t think it is any of my business either. But answer me this, do you wish to scare me into obedience?\"

Perhaps it was the weak moonlight, but she thought she saw a slight shift of expression on his face. \"I don\'t.\"

\"So why do you?\"

\"Why did you flinch at the altar?\"

Her mouth dried. \"I didn\'t.\"

He stood considering her for the longest moment, but did not press the point. Still, Hermione knew he was not fooled. \"Good. Now get dressed.\" And with that, he offered Hermione her Druid garments, turning his back while she tied the knots with shaking hands.

They walked quietly to the castle and back to the dungeons, each secluded in their own walls of perspiration-stained whiteness and mournful October chill. Her breaths puffed in clouds of smoke in front of her face, smoke animals running through her messy hair and disappearing into the darkness; to run with the spirits of the dead who roamed freely this night. No goddess, only mortal woman, mortal girl, to be exact, barely sixteen years old, with lips puffy from rough kisses: Lolita riding the cock of her Osiris – a man who lived his past, brewed his future, bottled it, and probably lost it too, deep in the Nile, where his corporeal body once rested, together with the slaughtered babies of the Hebrew tribes.

Melancholic again, aren\'t you, Granger? It didn\'t seem right that she should be despondent, she thought, while pulling her jumper over her head. She looked for her anger, and found the ever existent flame slowly consuming her coils of small intestine. Nonetheless, it was a bored fire, a doleful fire.

Well, too much time with a cold-blooded creature could do that to a person, Hermione mused. But I am not a cold blooded creature- when my fire dies out, I wither as well. Then came the self-mutilating, when she thought it would be better to hurt, better to bleed, than to feel how she slowly died from the inside out: watching the decay and the atrophy take over her soul while the sight of blood oozing from a fresh cut was terrifying enough to boost her system into producing new red cells. That thought…- that thought was enough to enrage her. Livid, she turned to face Snape, once again embalmed in his black, forbidding teaching robes – dug even farther into his shell, here in the dungeons.

\"We should talk,\" she declared.

\"And tomorrow we will talk.\"

Hermione pursued her lips. \"Now.\"

\"Now is not the right time,\" he informed her. \"You are angry and out of your element. Whatever it is you have to say will wait for tomorrow.\"

She shook her head. \"No.\"

\"I said, when you entered this apprenticeship, that there would be some subjects where you\'d simply have to trust my judgment. This is one of them.\"

\"Indeed, I have. But is it your judgment you apply now, or do you simply wish to avoid me?\"

\"As I said, you will have to trust me as your mentor.\"

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. \"Well, I don\'t.\"

For the first time in her Hogwarts career, Hermione Granger saw Severus Snape flinch. It was not a harsh movement but a subtle one, obscured by the dimness of the dungeon, but nonetheless discernable. Nonetheless horrible, as it made his face – his ugly, harsh, aquiline face – vulnerable, for the briefest second. Then it settled, more firmly than before, into its Death Eater\'s mask. \"Well,\" he began. \"I suppose it means you better leave now.\"

\"I didn\'t say I don\'t trust you.\"

\"Leave,\" he ordered. Anger rose from him, almost as perceptible as steam rising from a cauldron.

She gritted her teeth. \"No, I won\'t. And you don\'t want me to leave, so stop being an idiot and ask me why it is I trust you but not necessarily as my mentor.\"

\"Playing games now?\" He made a low sound, part hiss, part growl, and with one quicksilver move, pinned her to the dungeon wall, his hands on her shoulders. \"Didn\'t I tell you there will be no games?\"

She gasped, and without giving him any warning at all, aimed her elbow, watching him collapse after she hit him directly in the solar plexus. \"It could have been your package as well,\" she spat. \"Better be grateful, Professor.\"

Straddling his hips, she rolled up his robes, swatting his hands aside when he swore and made a half-hearted attempt to shake her off.

\"What in the bloody hell do you think you\'re doing, Granger?

She didn\'t answer, but instead, quickly unbuttoned his cambric shirt, and leaned forward to check severity of the injury. Reaching her hand, she touched the hurt area. \"How does it feel?\"

A muscle in his jaw twitched. \"How the hell do to you think it feels?\"

She gave him a crooked smile. \"Bloody painful- nothing is damaged, though. I told you not to corner me.\"

\"I told you not to play games.\"

\"It is not the same.\"

He let his head drop. \"How is it different? Please, enlighten me.\" His voice was cold and he lay deadly still. It should have been a warning to her, but she was angry and frightened and hurt.

\"First I\'m your goddess, then I\'m just a stupid schoolgirl. But in between, Snape – in between, I was something else, and you know it. You are playing games, as much as I am.\" Her aspect softened. \"Now,\" she said, gently caressing his stomach where her elbow had struck, \"I want to talk now.\"

\"This is unacceptable- you are not going to get away with this scheme of yours.\"

\"Aren\'t I?\" Her nostrils flaring, she applied some pressure on his bruise, watching Snape clench his jaws.

\"You little bitch.\"

\"You should watch your language, Professor.\"

\"Fuck off.\" His eyes narrowed once again, glittering at her wickedly. There was a sensation of coiling muscle beneath her. As she knew perfectly well, he was only still because he wanted to be still. If he really wanted to dislodge her, she would have a difficult time holding him down.

\"I would love to,\" she retorted, remembering Harry\'s words to her, only a days ago. \"I told you I trusted you, but not necessarily as my mentor-, you see, Professor, Severus,\" she moistened her lips, praying for the courage to say what she wanted to say. \"When we…\"

There was a long pause, and finally Snape finished her sentence for her. \"Celebrated?\"

She looked at him intently. \"Here… here. That\'s my point,\" she poked her index finger into his chest. \"We might have celebrated at first, which was fine, really- I had a great time and you were a great… celebratory? But when, what we did, afterwards- hell, ever since that night in the hallway…\" she shook her head. \"You were not my mentor and I was not your apprentice, and I don\'t want you as my mentor and I know you want me- I saw you looking at me that night. I know by the way you made love to me tonight; I can tell by the way you look at me now, I can tell by this hard on I feel now. Damn you, Snape. Say something!\"