To Covet and Consume

Disclaimer: JKR would kill me for what I am about to do to her characters. They are not mine.

Sorry about the wait. But this chapter is a hellofa lot longer then my usualy. I believe it is over double the size so you should enjoy it.

ALSO

BEWARE! STEAMY LEMONS AHEAD!!!
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I follow Miss Granger through the office door and back into my labs. Ever the keener, she is already setting up another work station.

“What is the Destroien Sawol potion?” she asks as she centers the cauldron.

“Preheat at 462.5 degrees,” I dictate before moving to the board and magically writing down the list of necessary ingredients. “The Destroien Sawol potion is one of the first and strongest potions ever created. It has been labeled a dark potion by the Ministry of Magic since long before Hogwarts was even founded. Destroien Sawol means to destroy ones soul.”

“A potion to destroy Lord Voldemort,” she whispers.

“Do not say his name so causally,” I hiss as I attempt to ignore the usual goose bumps the name causes, “but, yes.”

“How can you be sure it will work?” she asks almost fearfully.

“I am not at all sure. It is a hope based only in theory,” I state and move to lean against the front of my desk. She eyes me, remaining completely still, though I know this new knowledge is burning her short fuse and she is about to ask a question, so I continue with my theory. “Other curses… like the Killing Curse, do not work because they are only meant to kill the body, not the soul. The soul remains free to pass on to another world or dimension. The potion we are about to brew does not harm the body at all, but a body needs a soul to survive.”

“So, this potion mimics a Dementor’s Kiss?” She asks with a noticeable disgusted shiver.

I shake my head. “No, it is worse.”

“How can it be worse?”

“A kiss only takes the soul and devours it. But after the energy is spent from it, the soul can and does move on. After the soul moves on there is no way to return that body back to the way it once was, but it still exists and continues on a new journey. The potion we are about to create does not pull the soul from the body; it causes the soul to implode and destroy itself. The potion is said to turn back the clock, so to speak, and destroy the soul in such a way as if it never existed throughout this specific time period and ensures that the soul can not be reincarnated and sent on a new journey. The soul ceases to exist.”

Her eyes are wide as she absorbs this in its entirety. “No wonder this potion was black-listed.”

I snort. “Even so… we must test it and see if this is what we need to rid the wizarding world of this dark soul forever.”

She nods eagerly, “Yes, sir.” She heads to the stores to collect the ingredients for the base.

I look over my shoulder and at the eighteen steps I listed, and those are just for the base alone. I grin slowly at step number sixteen: Stir 477 times (wide, narrow, wide), counter clockwise, before adding ground griffin liver. My grin turns slightly evil as I read step number Seventeen: Stir 373 times (narrow, narrow, wide), clockwise, before sprinkling blood from a vampire on the top. I wipe the evil predator like grin I know I am wearing off my face as she reenters the labs. She carefully starts the base, breezing through steps one and two quickly.

“I must warn you Miss Granger,” I catch her interest at a safe point between two and three, “that the potion will be useless if each step is not followed in the precise manner in which it is listed on the board.”

“Of course, sir.” Her eyes return to the cauldron.

“And,” I pull her attention away again, “if the coyote saliva in step fifteen is not stirred properly with the wide stroke, the narrow, then the wide, before you add the ground griffin liver the cauldron could explode and harm us both.” She nods confidently, my know-it-all chit, and I continue, “And if the liver is not stirred in the exact pattern on the board before you add the vampire blood that too could create a huge explosion; and if that were to occur we could risk infection from the vampire venom that is found in the blood, and we do not want that, do we?”

She smiles, “Of course not, sir.”

I grin, hoping that all eagerness of my approaching checkmate is concealed. “You seem quite confident?”

She completes step three, “I am always careful, sir.”

I move behind her and stealthily place a protection ward around the cauldron; one that will allow ingredients to go in the cauldron, but not to explode out. Of course my little payment will not know of this little spell until much later, or perhaps not at all.

“You may be careful, but I have seen you easily distracted,” I bait and move back around into her line of sight.

She looks at me shocked, taking the offered bait. “Easily distracted, sir? When?”

I remain on the other side of her workstation. “In class; for the last seven years you have allowed your concentration to waver between your cauldron and that of Neville Longbottom’s,” I say smoothly as I cross my arms in front of me.

“Keeping an eye on Neville never interfered with any potion that I ever brewed, sir, that fact only proves that I am quite capable of multitasking.” She arches a brow, baiting me in return with her bluntness.

She concludes step four with a Potion Mistress’ grace; we must change that. I move back behind her. “That is true, Miss Granger, but most potions that you brew in class allow for a slight margin of error. You may have made a slight mistake and neither you nor I noticed because of the nature and the ingredients of each potion.” I lean in close and turn my tone to a low, seductive whisper. “You might have been only lucky, my naïve assistant.”

Her eyes flick up to the board again, her confidence wavering slightly on step five. She regains it and adds the flawless powder she just created. Step five is complete and I am already slithering under that delectable skin. She actually snorts, “If you believed I have only been lucky in your class you would have never employed me as your naïve assistant, sir.” I spoke to soon, she is pushing back. That’s just fine; I have ten more steps to go.

“Touché,” I smirk softly, leaning in close to her, smelling her hair and admiring how the firelight dances across it. “Perhaps ‘lucky’ was the wrong word. Allow me to try again: To eventually become a Potions Mistress you must possess flawless ability in the art that is concentration.”

She completes step six and nods, “Please explain further, sir.”

I have decided to butter her up slightly. I do not want her backtracking at all. I want to take a steady path to my goal. “You have incredible concentration for a student your age. There are some Potions graduates that do not possess the level in that particular art that you do, and because of this they usually fail in their apprenticeships, or cannot succeed when attempting to brew potions such as this one.” Steps seven and eight are over and nine is being prepared.

“Are there techniques to prefect the art of concentration?” she asks as she grinds the soft huckabee stone to a fine dust and adds it, completing step nine.

I nod and stand next to her and slightly behind. “You perform one already. You zone out. You create a space in your world where only you and your workstation exist. You perform this one quite well.” She smiles and accepts the praise. “But, your zone is not impenetrable. Your zone contains weak spots.”

She looks to me concerned as she slices the leaves into the thin strips for step 10. “What kind of weak spots?”

“Your need to look out for a friend, Longbottom, is one.”

She sighs, realizing I am right. I slip behind her again, allowing my body to brush against hers, and she shivers. “My voice and proximity seem to be another.” I whisper in her ear as I let my hands gently sit on her waist.

Her whole body freezes in the midst of step 10. I reach around her, cradling her body to mine as I finish the slicing and complete the step. She regains control and gently, but over confidently, takes the knife away from me and cleans it by hand.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Professor.” Her voice wavers.

“Oh, really?” I grin and stand next to her. “A minor test of your concentration abilities then?”

“As you wish, Professor.” She is attempting to find the brewing zone as she finishes off step eleven. I take that opportunity to run my hands through her hair and tuck a strand behind her ear. Her eyes shoot to mine in utter disbelief.

“Ignore me; remove me from your zone.” I lean over and whisper against her ear, allowing my lips to touch it.

She takes a deep breath and tilts her neck delicately to the left, attempting to retreat from me but only serving to give my mouth better access. I run my right hand down her right side as I lean in closer and nuzzle that mane of hair. She finishes task twelve, then swallows nervously and trembles ever so slightly. “Very good, Miss Granger.” I purr elegantly into that same ear before moving to her other side.

I wrap my arms around her taut stomach and place my palm just above the waist on her jeans. “Do you recall my warnings for steps 16 and 17?” I whisper in her left ear.

“Yes.” She barely whispers as she concludes task thirteen.

“‘Yes’ what?” I growl running both hands up both sides of her body.

“Yes, sir.” She leans back into me, I do not even think she noticed the change in proximity, it was so minimal.

“Good girl.” I purr as my finger tips reach her underarms, strategically avoiding her pert breasts. She adds and stirs steps fourteen. “Are you positive you can continue to block me out until the end of the base; all the way to step nineteen?”

She nods nervously. I can feel her heart pounding against my chest. Merlin this is incredible!

I slide my hands back down to the waist of her jeans and slide them up, now under her shirt, and caress her stomach skin to skin. Both our breaths decide to hitch in unison and she actually whimpers. “Professor, this… this is not something I should have to deal with while concentrating on a potion…” She stutters out in a much more adorable impression of Longbottom.


“Then forfeit, Miss Granger,” I say keeping my hand still against the flatness of her stomach. “We can try another technique another time if this is becoming too much?”

I do not know who to thank but I will thank Merlin and Godric Gryffindor for passing on his bloody courage because I could kiss them both for what she says next: “No, sir.” She has decided to call bluff on a Slytherin. Silly, silly little girl.

Checkmate.

With step fifteen out of the way she has begun to start the first of 477 complete circuit stirs. Good god! I can feel her muscles rippling under my palm as she begins the first wide stir, then slides easily through the base into the narrow.

She cannot stop once she has started or we could both be severely injured. She still has no idea I made sure that would not happen.

I have decided, with 476 more circuits to go for step Sixteen, that it is time to truly play with my little pet. With that thought in mind I slide both hands higher up under her shirt and grasp both breasts pulling her body tight against mine. I do this slowly though, so as not to disturb her stirring.

The surprised little eep she lets out brings a malicious smile to my lips, “Something wrong, Miss Granger?”

“Sir, Professor… this… this,” she can barely catch her breath as I begin to massage each of her breasts firmly. Oh gods and goddesses, this was worth every year I waited. “This is wrong…” she attempts to continue. Her nipples peak; after such a response from her body I completely ignore her plea.

“You must keep stirring, Miss Granger, or you will injure, or worse, kill us both.” I move one hand down to her hip and pull her pelvis back against my upper thighs so I have the top of that pretty little jean clad ass to grind into.

I feel a slight tremor pass through her body but she does continue to stir. I allow my hips the luxury of making slow circles against her ass. Her breath hisses in surprise, but she does not protest or mumble a coherent word. I groan against her ear. “Good girl. Keep stirring.” My hands continue their assault on her smooth breasts. I can feel the goose bumps rising on her skin at my touch. She is beginning to pant slightly. I run both hands down her sides, grasp her hips firmly, and move her hips against mine.

“Professor…” She gasps as my lips latch on to the increasing pulse point in her neck.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” I grin against her skin.

“We… need to… stop.” Her head falls back against my right shoulder and my hands follow the trail up her abdomen towards her breasts. I run the pads of my thumbs over her aroused nipples. The moan she allows to escape at this point almost sends me coming in my pants like a 6th year boy. “What if someone were to catch us?”

Ah, so I would seem my pet has no qualms about my prick hardening against her pert bottom, but her only legitimate fear is that someone will stumble upon us. I chuckle sexily against her earlobe, “I can guarantee you we will not be interrupted.” I hump her ass lightly for emphasis, “Besides, I do believe our bodies would prefer if we would continue as is.”

She shakes her head weakly against my shoulder.

“Your body is far ahead of that know-it-all mind of yours, Miss Granger.” I raise her shirt so it rests crumpled atop of her round tits. I continue to fondle them mercilessly. “Your body would ache if I stopped. Your body is practically begging me for more.” I remove my right hand from her breast and effortlessly transfigure an empty vial on the work station across from us into a door size mirror.

“Look at us!” I demand when I notice her eyes are closed in pleasure. I slide my right hand between my shoulder and the back of her head and grasp a handful of her hair which I use to force her gaze straight at the mirror. Her eyes open, but are heavy lidded, indeed. I move my hand from her hair back to her breast.

The vision the mirror holds before us is beyond erotic. My arms wrapped possessively around my half naked Gryffindor as my hands knead her breasts and pinch her nipples softly. Her chest heaves in delight at the bliss my body can bring her own. Her skin is flushed to the point it would put her house colors to shame. My chin is resting on her shoulder and the back of her head is again resting against mine. Her arms are outstretched as they stir shakily. I grin. The color of the potion is still correct, even through all of this her technique has not faltered. I look back up to the mirror and find her eyes boring into my own. They appear to be host to an internal battle between fear and lust. I plan on ensuring lusts win. Her lips are parted slightly… and to my shock they look quite kissable. Generally my mouth does not enjoy wasting pleasantries on them when they could be charming her much sweeter set. She looks like a paradox personified. Her expression is that of a young woman who is relaxed by tension itself. I notice her hair is still up in that haphazard style and held in place by her quill. My eyes never leave hers as I pull the quill loose and her hair cascades down over my shoulder and frames the both of us wildly.

“Do you honestly wish for this pleasure to stop?” I ask, allowing my nose to nuzzle her curls. She swallows noticeably and is about to answer my question. “I must warn you; if you say yes I will use Legilimency to validate your answer.”

Her hips grind back roughly against mine as if they just remembered how to move again, and her hair tickles my cheek as she shakes her head slowly.

I feel myself instantly harden more at her unspoken answer, but it is not enough. “Say it!” I demand pinching her right nipple for emphasis.

“Don’t stop!” she growls, arching away from my body and into my seeking hands. “I don’t… want you …to stop.” She continues between pants.

I grin wickedly at her through the mirror. “My little wanton pet,” I coo, “I never had any designs on stopping.”

My innocent comment allows fear a renewed strength and it shines in her eyes, but it does nothing to quake the needy desire. Lust still seems to be in the lead.

My right hand slides down slowly toward, and then below, her waist. I slide my left knee between her legs to widen her already shaky stance. I watch with a smirk as her lust filled eyes follow my descending hand in the mirror. I snake my hand between her thighs and cup her mound roughly.

She gasps and thrusts forward into my hand. I can feel the heat already bubbling within her attempting to escape there. I allow my middle and forefinger to slither back and forth on the seam of her jeans. Her lower lips swell with each pass of my fingers. I lick my lips in anticipation of our upcoming kiss. “Does this feel good?” I whisper, already knowing the answer.

She nods and pushes her hips down against my hand, whimpering ever so slightly.

“Do you want more?” I move my left hand down to join my right.

“I… I can’t…” She cries out almost incoherently.

“You can’t what?” I hiss, pushing both hands up and into her gyrating crotch. I can feel her internal lubrication slowly seeping through her jeans.

“I… I can’t… keep… stirring.” Her eyes plead to mine in the mirror. Lust has won the war because all I see is pure carnal need. Her lower lip is red; I can imagine the blood pulsing beneath it. She must have been gnawing on it a few moments ago.

I arch a brow and unzip her fly with my right hand as my left continues to warm and melt her. “Too bloody bad,” I grin at the shocked look on her face, “because you have 57 more stirs to go.”

Before she can answer me I remove my left hand from her breast and slip it down inside her jeans and under her panties, causing her shock to fade into pleasure. I stroke and probe her sensitive flesh with two fingers. Thank Merlin for the silencing charms I placed on the room because my pet is getting more vocal by the moment. With in seconds her body has graciously lubricated my finger tips and I slip them up inside her. She moans at the slight penetration.

“Miss Granger.” I call out as I notice her eyes have fallen closed again.

She doesn’t seem to hear me as she continues to bounce herself on my fingers.

“Hermione!” I try again and her eyes flicker open. “Look at us!”

She does.

Her eyes implore mine. She is staring at me with such heat that my skin is flushing under such scrutiny. Her lids are heavy but her eyes are awake. Her mouth parts in a seductive ‘O’, and then whispers a strangled, “More.”

My eyes widen in temporary shock but my body goes on auto pilot for I have moved to my knees and am now pulling her jeans and underwear down over her thighs. She steps out of them, wobbling slightly as she slips off her trainers first. I slip my fingers back inside her and remain on my knees behind her.

“How many more stirs?” I question, wanting to release my own engorged sex. My dick now has its own bloody pulse! I, yet again find myself torn between giving into my mouths desire to taste her, or to just move towards my goal of seething myself inside her.

“26.” She groans as she continues to stir and grind down into my finger tips.

It seems that I have time to indulge myself in a short, yet thorough taste. I raise myself up and allow my tongue to gently snake between her lips even as my fingers pump rhythmically into her. I pull my fingers out after a few mews of encouragement at the introduction of my mouth. She growls selfishly at the loss of my talented digits, but sighs sexily as my mouth moves in and steals the show. I grasp her hips gently from behind, and my thumbs massage the sides of her ass sensuously. She wantonly grinds down onto my content face; causing this kiss to become even more intimate, if at all possible. I could do this all night, suffocating myself between her warm thighs.

I pull away violently after such a dramatic thought and growl, “How many more?”

“… 6 …” she whimpers now at the loss of my strenuous kiss.

I raise my left hand back up to her mound and ignore the unconscious itch to return to her with my mouth. I then lift my right hand up to manipulate her swollen clit, ever so slightly. I am not ready yet to allow her body sweet release. I continue to watch her delicate lips devour my finger tips with each fall of her hips. She will not find release until I have found mine.

“Now?” I whisper as I feel her inner muscles tightening around my digits.

“10… almost there.” She hisses.

I pull out and clean my finger tips with my tongue.

She glares down at me in the mirror. “Why have you stopped?”

I smirk up at her, “Such a little selfish wanton Gryffindor, you are.”

I stand up, once again hovering over her shoulder behind her. I stare into the cauldron. “You have proven you can concentrate in the most surreal situation. Now I shall allow you to finish your potion.”

I walk around her to stand between her and the mirror. Facing her head on, my arms crossed, I attempt to school my features into that of indifference.

“You arrogant git!” she barks; her hair a wild mane, eyes fighting between anger and lust, and her practically naked body heaving in indignation. She looks like a force to be reckoned with. I can hardly wait. “You don’t just start something like that and not-” Her lecture on the propriety of foreplay dies in her throat as she notices I have started to undo my cuff links. If I had known this would be all it would take to shut-up my little know-it-all I would have given my payment a preview sooner.

“Oh,” I look her over, allowing her to see the predator behind my eyes, “I most definitely intend to finish what I have started.”

I raise my hands to the top button of my white shirt as she begins the last of 6 stirs. I am quite excited by the way her eyes follow my hands eagerly. With 4 more stirs to go I have divested myself of my shirt and now my bare chest is under her visual scrutiny. My hungry lioness is practically drooling to be fed. She eyes my body like a delicious piece of T-bone steak that she has been fantasizing about devouring for years. I kick off my boots as my hands move to the top button on my fly. I then unzip my pants slowly as she approaches the last of her stirs. I step out of my pants and move back around her, wearing nothing but a pair of tented silk boxers. I smirk as her eyes charm themselves to it with eager anticipation.

When she finishes her last stir I snatch the spoon out of her hands and set it down on the work station. I turn her towards me. It seems those few minutes of no contact have her all nervous again.

“Lift your arms.” I command, and she shivers, in lust or fear I don’t know, and I couldn’t care less as she does as told.

I remove the offending shirt and admire her standing there naked before me. I turn her back around roughly and bend her down over the table.

“Do you still want more, Miss Granger?” I ask as my right hand releases my penis and my left caresses her long back and tight ass.

“Yes…” She breathes out. I can hear the nerves in her voice.

“Yes, what?” I slap her ass with very little force.

“Yes, sir,” she groans.

I step up and slip my penis against her still swollen lips until my organ is slick all over. She starts to push back against me but I hold her hips still. I lean over her, my chest flush against her back. “I will not sugar coat anything. This will hurt,” I whisper in her ear, and then I kiss the back of her neck. I position myself against her and push forward as fast and as hard as possible.

Her screams echo off the classroom walls, but I do not let up. Her body is like a fucking vice. She is so tight, so slick, and so bloody hot. I avoid looking at the mirror. I allow the sight of my pelvis slapping against her ass, and the vision of my penis colored red in the last of her innocence disappearing and reappearing with each long stroke. My thoughts are consumed by the vision before me that it barely registers when I feel her pushing back and meeting each thrust I push into her, and her screams turn to roars of delight.

I look to the mirror and growl, throwing myself into her body harder and faster. I can’t see her face. Her hair is masking that pleasure from me. Her breasts jiggle violently below us, almost low enough to rack across the top of the work station. I notice her knuckles are turning white from grasping the edge of the tabletop so tightly. I lean forward and pull the hair out of her face and hold it at the nap of her neck gently. The sight before me is surreal. Her eyes are shut in erotic bliss and she is biting her lip so hard she has drawn blood. The urge to taste those lips comes back in full force. I give in, to relaxed to fight it. I use her hair to turn her towards me roughly and attack my mouth with my own. Our kiss begins to slow and I allow my touch to become gentler, but my lower half continues to ram into her with no mercy. I kiss her deeply, allowing my eyes to drift closed. When I pull back she licks her lips as if savoring the taste of me. Her eyes change and begin to mold into something else. I dominantly turn her face back towards the tabletop. I refuse to witness what the lust might turn into.

I continue to grasp her hair with one hand and allow my left to search out her clit. All it needs is a good flick and she arches her back and howls towards the ceiling like a bloody wolf. My own release hits me just as hard as her insides milk me dry. She collapses below me against the top of the workstation.

Sweet Merlin, that was incredible.

I continue to watch her in the mirror as her breathing, and my own, slowly returns to normal. Her hair is tousled and free shielding parts of her face in the most tantalizing way. Her complexion is blotchy, reminiscence of the afterglow, and her eyes have completely fallen closed. I allow her to keep them this way. She looks exhausted and yet manages to seem also relaxed. I inhale deeply. I need to commit this moment to memory. The smell in the air is better then sex. The smell is a perfect combination of our natural scents. I never want the realism of this night to fade. I need it to be as clear as now each time I revisit it in a pensieve. I should attempt to recreate the scent. Every little detail must be kept intact… incase…

Incase I have no choice but to cast an Oblivate.

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I haven't started 16 yet but I should be starting that tonight so I would expect it up by the end of the weekend. Sorry about the wait to all of you but my grandma was in the hospital for a week. Then she passed away so we were busy with family in town for a week and then the last 2 weeks I found it hard to write the lemons with the possibility she may be watching me, ya know... any who... as you can see I got over that... now I just have to decide if he will cast the Oblivate. It shocked me too when my little muse wrote it.

Hope you enjoyed.

Shout out to Amber the best beta ever. She suggested I add stuff in that made it a page in a half longer of smut. You can thank both of our dirty little muses for this.