A Change of Venue

Chapter 2 ~ Snape Anonymous

For the next couple of weeks, Hermione Granger tried desperately not to think about the seductive Potions Master and the promise in his voice as he talked about his vocation and what he did for the witches he met with. She could control her thoughts during the day, but the nights, the lonely nights were what got to her.

Recently, she had a small tryst with a wizard she had been seeing on and off for several months, a man desperate to seduce her. Feeling randy, Hermione gave in…but the wizard rushed, too excited to take time and left Hermione feeling quite dissatisfied. The worst part was, either he didn’t realize it or did and didn’t care. Bad sex was worse than no sex. She cut him off and quickly.

Now as she lay in her bed with the torches turned low, Professor’s Snape’s silken words returned to her:

"I discovered that when it came to the fairer sex, those abilities enabled me to discern just what a witch needed sexually, even if she wasn’t aware of it herself. It is a gift…"

It was the kind of gift she needed.

Hermione reached into the top drawer of her nightstand and took out the Professor’s card, studying it…her face turning crimson at the thought of entering his office and asking for a consultation. But she felt a twinge of desire inside as well. It was perfectly acceptable after all. She’d used male prostitutes before and felt little guilt about it. Why should the Potions Master be any different?

“Because he is the Potions Master. He’s known me since I was a child,” she said to herself.

Hermione knew that would not make a difference to Severus Snape. It might even add something. But…but she shouldn’t rush in…maybe…maybe she should ask him for a list of references…like she would when contracting anyone to do work.

Hermione colored again. Gods, the kind of work she wanted the wizard to perform.

The witch closed her eyes and tried to imagine the Potions Master on top of her and felt a sharp spike of desire as his image hit her full force, silky black hair swinging around his face, that rich voice purring at her, saying all the things a witch wants to hear in that situation, beautiful, dirty, passionate things.

Hermione fingers barely grazed her pussy before she orgasmed, gasping at the suddenness of her eruption.

Gods, she had to have that consultation.

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The next morning, Hermione was browsing the Daily Prophet with her morning coffee and paused as she read over the public announcements. She didn’t read them much, but had a bit of extra time on her hands since she was up early. Actually she didn’t sleep well the night before, Professor Snape haunting her dreams and her own conscience forcing her awake before they became too sexual.

“Snape Anonymous? What is that?” she said to herself as she read the time and location of the meeting.

She knew what it was just by the name. A group of Snape-struck women, probably former clients that became stuck on the wizard. Dear gods. Was he really that good to have a 12-step program created to break the addiction to him?

The idea of it was frightening…but compelling. Could she fall for the wizard that hard? What could Professor Snape possibly do to her that would make her crave him like a drug? What had he done to those other women?

She had to find out. She had heard the benefits of using his services from the Professor, now she needed to hear the detriments from those who knew.

She was going to that meeting.

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The room at the back of the Hog's Head Inn had been slightly enlarged for tonight and was filled with women seated in little folding chairs, some sipping cups of tea, and others chatting in low voices. A simple podium rested at the front of the room. On the wall was an altered version of "The Twelve Steps."

Hermione walked into the room and quietly sat down in the last row, looking at all the women in amazement. Some of them had to be as old as one hundred at least. Did Professor Snape actually fuck all these women? There had to be at least forty of them and more entering the room at every moment.

A heavy-set witch with blonde hair and heavy jowls handed out a couple of parchments to several witches to be read before the meeting started. Vampire Queen Adam Sweetmeats fluttered in and sat down daintily in a chair in the last row, his blue eyes troubled as always. Maybe he could find some solace.

The jowly witch stepped up to the podium, which meant it was time for the meeting to start. Everyone fell silent and looked up at her as she cleared her throat.

"Welcome. I am Alice, a Snapeaholic," she said soberly.

"Hi Alice!" a chorus of voices answered.

The witch smiled and continued.

"I would like to welcome you to the Monday evening meeting. We would like to give a special welcome to new attendees and have you introduce yourselves. But first, let me share our preamble."

Alice studied a piece of parchment before her, then began to read.

"SNAPE ANONYMOUS is a fellowship of women who share their experience, strength and hope with each other that they may solve their common problem and help others to recover from their obsession with Severus Snape. The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop utilizing his services. There are no dues or fees for S.A. membership; we are self-supporting through our own contributions. S.A. is not allied with any sect, denomination, politics, organization or institution; does not wish to engage in any controversy; neither endorses nor opposes any causes. Our primary purpose is to stay away from Severus Snape and help other Snapeaholics to achieve freedom from their obsession."

Adam sat in the back of the room, feeling a bit put out because although he was a "Queen" he was decidedly male. He had never used Severus' Snape's services, because "Severus Snape didn't do men" but was obsessed just the same. In fact, he was envious of all these women. They got to fuck the dark wizard. What the hell were they complaining about?

The meeting continued with witches walking up to the podium holding parchments which each read from before returning to her seat. Hermione listened to the reading of the Preamble, followed by “How It Works” from the “Snape Anonymous” book the group had printed to specifically address the Snape Addiction and finally the “12 Traditions” also adapted to fit the bill.

Alice returned to the podium, looked around and saw a number of new faces so reviewed the guidelines of the meeting.

”There are certain guidelines we follow during our meetings that we expect to be strictly adhered to so we can all trust and draw strength from each other. They are as follows, “ Alice said,

”1) KEEP CONFIDENTIALITY - "What you hear here stays here"

2) MAKE "I STATEMENTS" - Avoid using "you" or "we"

3) STAY IN THE "HERE AND NOW" - Share what you are dealing with today or this week.

4) SHARE FEELINGS about your experience, strength, and hope.

5) NO FIXING - NO ADVICE GIVING

6) NO CROSSTALK - No asking of questions or discussion “

Alice took a moment to let the guidelines sink in, then continued.

”We would like our guests to introduce themselves. Please only use your first name,” she said, smiling benignly.

Two witches introduced themselves and identified their status as Snapeaholics. Then every eye turned expectantly on Hermione, who rose nervously.

”My name is Hermione. I have never been with Severus Snape, but am here to listen,” she said, sitting back down as a few of the witches scowled at her. Could she be thinking of going to the wizard? Or was she in denial?

A few muttered about having closed meetings.

”Welcome Hermione. I hope you find the meeting enlightening,” she said to the witch with a smile, “Now does anyone have a burning desire to share?”

Several hands went up and Alice selected one of the members, then vacated the dais.

A curly-haired witch of about thirty-five with a blissful expression on her face walked up to the podium gazing out at the attentive audience, her eyes unfocused at if seeing something…something beautiful.

In a voice dripping with lust she began, ”Severus Snape was the most passionate wizard I have ever experienced. I know we aren’t to go into explicit detail here, but gods…that wizard is hung like a….”

The jowly chairwitch Alice sprang up, waving her hands frantically. Normally she wouldn’t interfere in this manner. SA members were allowed to share what they wished, but no wars stories. There was a tendency to glorify them and Sarah Kushton was about to launch into a major battle.

”Sarah! Stick to the guidelines! Focus on the negatives that happened in real life, not the positives of the illusion. We must all remember that the feeling of completeness Severus Snape gave us is only an illusion!”

Sarah seemed to snap out of it.

”That’s all I want to say,” she said sullenly, stepping down from the podium.

“Thank you for sharing, Sarah,” several voices murmured as the witch took her seat.

Hermione listened spellbound as witch after witch approached the podium talking about their struggle with life after experiencing Severus Snape. Many had lost homes, jobs and even husbands because of their addiction to the man. A few were even arrested for stealing money and items in an attempt to raise enough money for a session with the wizard.

Hermione wondered why they just didn’t get obliviated. That seemed the most direct and effective approach to take, but then again, the cost of targeted obliviation was prohibitive.
Still they had spent thousands on Severus. Surely they could find the money to remove him from their minds if they truly wanted to.

Hermione wasn’t sure she had much sympathy for these people. They could do more for themselves…they didn’t have to be victims of their own desires. They weren’t helpless. Standing around constantly talking about their addiction and not doing anything about it seemed like a total waste of time.

At the end of the meeting, Alice handed out little coins. One witch received one for being “clean” of Severus for 24 hours. Everyone clapped and congratulated her, though there were a few covert, envious looks thrown her way.

There were different coins given out for each month of staying away from Severus Snape, the most treasured being the one year coin. A full 365 days of not fucking the wizard was quite an accomplishment and proof of being well on the road to recovery.

The meeting let out, and Hermione found herself surrounded by curious witches.

”You’ve never been with Severus Snape? Why did you come here then?” one witch asked her.

Hermione decided to be honest.

”I was thinking about using his services,” she admitted, the witches surrounding her gasping.

“Don’t do it!” one witch with rheumy eyes as if she hadn’t slept for weeks said, “The man is an Incubus. The devil himself…once he gets inside you…he doesn’t come out. You carry him with you like a…a disease. He’s like…like muggle crack!”

The other witches agreed.

”Come back to the meeting tomorrow night, and the next night. We’ll help you garner the strength to resist his wiles, Hermione,” another witch said, clasping her arm tightly.

”Yes, we’ll help you,” they all intoned.

Hermione suddenly felt as if they were trying to get her to join some kind of cult.

”Thank you,” she said, removing the witch’s hand with some effort, “Maybe I will.”

She headed for the door.

“Don’t procrastinate. You need help. We all do,” another witch called after Hermione as she exited the room hurriedly, then the inn, heading for home feeling as if she had made a narrow escape.

Maybe she had. Or perhaps…she’d find she hadn’t if she did decide to go and meet with the Potions Master.

Of one thing Hermione was sure…whatever Professor Snape did to witches…he was damned effective.

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Agatha Windelforth returned from the meeting, sat on her tiny bed and retrieved the small framed photo of Severus Snape she kept on her nightstand. It was from a newspaper clipping when he first was recognized as a hero. The witch gripped it tightly in both hands as she sat in the small, dingy room she rented in Knockturn alley for ten galleons a week. For that amount, she didn’t have much. A bed, a dresser, four drab gray walls and a common bathroom she shared with other tenants that always smelled of piss.

Agatha didn’t always live this way. A slender, pale witch of five-nine with scraggly black hair tucked in netting, brown, desperate eyes and crooked teeth, she used to work in the Ministry cafeteria and owned a small house in Little Hangelton. She was forty-one years old and not very shapely or good-looking. When she had her home, she kept a number of cats, but now…living in disgrace her life was empty.

No man had ever loved Agatha. Oh, she had encounters before…plenty of meaningless encounters with wizards who picked her up at the Hog’s Head after she’d drank enough courage. She'd go home with them, be sweated over and then discarded like a used condom.

Then Agatha found out about Severus Snape and garnered the courage to visit him for a consultation. She was a bit inebriated when she did, but the Potions Master gave her a healthy dash of sober-up potion in her tea and she soon found herself face to face with the wizard without a crutch. She tried to leave but Severus stopped her.

”You wouldn’t have come here if you weren’t in need,” the wizard said to her, “We are only going to talk, Miss Windelforth. At the end of our conversation, you can make your decision whether or not to accept my services.”

His voice was so silken and his eyes mesmerizing Agatha sank back down into the armchair, unable to take her eyes off of him.

”All right,” she said softly, the Potions Master giving her a small smile.

Agatha did make the appointment, dipping into her meager savings to pay the asking price. She wasn’t disappointed, although she showed up at her appointment drunk as before. Severus sobered her up and proceeded to give her the most satisfying sexual experience of her life.

He made Agatha feel beautiful.

A month later, she was back and made another appointment with the wizard, and once again the wizard made her feel wonderful. She returned two weeks later and Severus reluctantly agreed to see her. He knew she was a cafeteria worker and couldn’t continue to afford him. He gently told her she was going to have to stop. Agatha wept horribly, but the Potions Master was firm with her.

Several days later, a pretty blonde came in, rushing through her consultation, saying she had an appointment and left after only forty-five minutes, making an appointment to see him. When the time for intimacy arrived and was indulged in, Severus was horrified and angered to discover the blonde witch under him was really Agatha under Polyjuice potion and transformed back while he was on top of her. He quickly expelled her, saying she was banned and tested every witch that entered his shop thereafter, hanging a sign that basically said, “Polyjuiced Witches Will Be Blacklisted.”

In the meantime, Agatha neglected to pay her house notes on time because of the added expense of the Potions Master and came home one evening after work and found her home repossessed. Nothing was left but the foundation. The goblins at Gringotts didn’t waste time. When they repossessed…they repossessed.

The desperate witch had also begun stealing money out of the register at the Ministry in an attempt to keep seeing Severus. She was subsequently caught and fired, lucky not to be sent to prison. Stealing from the Ministry was a very bad offense, but once the reason was known, she was released with the stipulation she attend at least 4 meetings of Snape Anonymous a week for a year, have a paper signed and turn it in at probation. Another stipulation was that she stay away from Severus. He also received a copy of the Order.

Now Agatha worked as a dishwasher at the Three Broomsticks and didn’t earn much. She was too inept and socially introverted to serve as a waitress, but Rosmerta felt sorry for her and put her on in the kitchens.

Agatha had a healthy imagination, and convinced herself that Severus Snape was in love with her. He had to be. How could he make love to her the way he did and not feel anything? She hated the SA meetings and all the witches who had been with him. The dirty whores. Her stomach hurt the entire time she was there, listening to their stories and not identifying with them at all. She was Severus Snape’s true love after all. These women simply threw themselves at him and he was a man. It was hard for him to resist them.

He had to be taken out of their reach.

The SA members tried to get Agatha to open up and talk about what happened to her and how she was recovering, but she wouldn’t. Several witches tried to sponsor her, but she said she wasn’t ready for a sponsor she was just there to listen. But she tuned them all out, repeating the 12 steps mechanically night after night as she plotted.

Plotted to get to the man she loved. They would go away together, she and Severus Snape…far away, beyond the reach of the Ministry…of everyone.

It didn’t matter she barely had a galleon to her name.

They would live on love.

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A/N: Just another chappie of this before I get started on Sahara again. Thanks for reading. ***