One Hundred And One Ways To Brew Lust
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
14
Views:
7,935
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
14
Views:
7,935
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter Two
Chapter Two
***
The next thing she knew she awoke on a sofa, to the pungent odour of sulphur filling her nostrils. Snape stood before her, and withdrew the bottle of powder from her face when she came to. His face was inscrutable as he regarded her for a moment. Raising one eyebrow, he left her there, returning moments later with a glass of brownish-red liquid.
“Drinks”. s”. It was an order, not a request.
She took the glass with a shaky hand, wondering what potion this was, and whether she could trust Snape. But he had saved her from Voldemort. “A Boggart, just a Boggart,” she reminded herself. She sipped the liquid, and to her relief, found it to be warming and delicious.
“Offley’s finest Reserve, 1963.” Snape seemed to be speaking in code, or else she wasn’t fully recovered from her fainting spell.
“What?” she asked.
Snape gave an exasperated sigh. “It’s just port, it will help you sleep”.
“Thank you.”
Hermione giggled in her head. Now those were two words she never thought she’d be uttering to Snape. She downed the small glass of port in two more gulps.
Snape rose from his chair, and Hermione followed him to the doorayinaying a little as she went. The port had sent a warm tingly feeling to her stomach, and somewhere further below she felt a stir of something else she couldn’t identify. Port wine must have some magical properties after all. Hermione would have to visit the library tomorrow to investigate.
“Well, Miss Granger. I think that’s quite enough excitement for one night. I can’t have you fainting away and interrupting my Potions corrections. I must say, I would have expected more from you. Seven years at Hogwarts, and you still can’t get rid of a Boggart. Quite obviously, your education in Defence Against the Dark Arts has been sorely lacking”, Snape concluded, as he opened the door for her to let her out.
Hermione scowled back at him. Now there was the Snape she knew and loved. Well, knew anyway. How could she think him capable of compassion? She stormed off without a backwards glance, bumping into an old Goblin armour as she did so. The port had made her a little unsteady on her feet. She heard a loud rattle behind her. Peeves had just emerged from the Goblin’s helmet and was blowing raspberries at her. She hurried down the corridor, muttering the password, “Whizzing Weatherby”, to the Fat Lady as she entered the common room, and climbed up to the safety of her dormitory.
***
She fell asleep almost instantly, dreaming of Neville’s Boggart from so many years ago. Snape, dressed in Neville’s grandmother’s drand and hat, was pouring her a glass of port. “Weatherby’s finest Reserve, 1674” he said as he leaned down to present her with the glass. Suddenly, he grabbed her, twisting her facedown over the desk. He reached for the hem of her robes, and pulled them up. When she twisted to look up at him, horror-struck, he was no longer wearing Mrs. Longbottom’s clothes, but his normal attire, and his normal, hateful smirk.
From out of nowhere, he brandished the wooden meter stick, bringing it down on her backside. A loud smacking sound echoed through the room. “Ouch! That stings”, she cried, as she realised the stick had made contact with her bare flesh. She blushed scarlet when it dawned on her that she had only her panties to protect her. Her next thought was that she shouldn’t have worn the gag granny pants Parvati had given her with smiling pumpkins on them. Smack! Smack! The meter stick made contact with her ten times in all. “That’s what happens to naughty girls,”pe spe said to her. Only he wasn’t smacking her anymore. He was soothing her sore bottom with firm caresses. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Let’s see you wriggle your way out of this one….”
Hermione woke with a start. Momentarily disoriented, she realised she was drenched in sweat. She suddenly recalled Professor Lupin’s lessons from third year, how encounters with Boggarts could cause fever. The fever could be diminished slightly by the prompt ingestion of fortified wine. So Snape knew his remedies well. Snape. As she thought of him in her dream, she felt herself flush. The same tingling she’d felt earlier below her stomach returned, and she was aghast to discover her panties were moist with something other than sweat.
***
The next thing she knew she awoke on a sofa, to the pungent odour of sulphur filling her nostrils. Snape stood before her, and withdrew the bottle of powder from her face when she came to. His face was inscrutable as he regarded her for a moment. Raising one eyebrow, he left her there, returning moments later with a glass of brownish-red liquid.
“Drinks”. s”. It was an order, not a request.
She took the glass with a shaky hand, wondering what potion this was, and whether she could trust Snape. But he had saved her from Voldemort. “A Boggart, just a Boggart,” she reminded herself. She sipped the liquid, and to her relief, found it to be warming and delicious.
“Offley’s finest Reserve, 1963.” Snape seemed to be speaking in code, or else she wasn’t fully recovered from her fainting spell.
“What?” she asked.
Snape gave an exasperated sigh. “It’s just port, it will help you sleep”.
“Thank you.”
Hermione giggled in her head. Now those were two words she never thought she’d be uttering to Snape. She downed the small glass of port in two more gulps.
Snape rose from his chair, and Hermione followed him to the doorayinaying a little as she went. The port had sent a warm tingly feeling to her stomach, and somewhere further below she felt a stir of something else she couldn’t identify. Port wine must have some magical properties after all. Hermione would have to visit the library tomorrow to investigate.
“Well, Miss Granger. I think that’s quite enough excitement for one night. I can’t have you fainting away and interrupting my Potions corrections. I must say, I would have expected more from you. Seven years at Hogwarts, and you still can’t get rid of a Boggart. Quite obviously, your education in Defence Against the Dark Arts has been sorely lacking”, Snape concluded, as he opened the door for her to let her out.
Hermione scowled back at him. Now there was the Snape she knew and loved. Well, knew anyway. How could she think him capable of compassion? She stormed off without a backwards glance, bumping into an old Goblin armour as she did so. The port had made her a little unsteady on her feet. She heard a loud rattle behind her. Peeves had just emerged from the Goblin’s helmet and was blowing raspberries at her. She hurried down the corridor, muttering the password, “Whizzing Weatherby”, to the Fat Lady as she entered the common room, and climbed up to the safety of her dormitory.
***
She fell asleep almost instantly, dreaming of Neville’s Boggart from so many years ago. Snape, dressed in Neville’s grandmother’s drand and hat, was pouring her a glass of port. “Weatherby’s finest Reserve, 1674” he said as he leaned down to present her with the glass. Suddenly, he grabbed her, twisting her facedown over the desk. He reached for the hem of her robes, and pulled them up. When she twisted to look up at him, horror-struck, he was no longer wearing Mrs. Longbottom’s clothes, but his normal attire, and his normal, hateful smirk.
From out of nowhere, he brandished the wooden meter stick, bringing it down on her backside. A loud smacking sound echoed through the room. “Ouch! That stings”, she cried, as she realised the stick had made contact with her bare flesh. She blushed scarlet when it dawned on her that she had only her panties to protect her. Her next thought was that she shouldn’t have worn the gag granny pants Parvati had given her with smiling pumpkins on them. Smack! Smack! The meter stick made contact with her ten times in all. “That’s what happens to naughty girls,”pe spe said to her. Only he wasn’t smacking her anymore. He was soothing her sore bottom with firm caresses. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Let’s see you wriggle your way out of this one….”
Hermione woke with a start. Momentarily disoriented, she realised she was drenched in sweat. She suddenly recalled Professor Lupin’s lessons from third year, how encounters with Boggarts could cause fever. The fever could be diminished slightly by the prompt ingestion of fortified wine. So Snape knew his remedies well. Snape. As she thought of him in her dream, she felt herself flush. The same tingling she’d felt earlier below her stomach returned, and she was aghast to discover her panties were moist with something other than sweat.