Through the Looking Glass ~ COMPLETED

Chapter 20 ~ Two Moments of Truth

Snape pulled Hermione against his body roughly, slamming the door with his other hand, then deftly pulling her wand out of her pocket.

”Hey! What’s with the cavemen act? Give me back my wand!” the witch demanded.

Still holding her squirming body against him, Snape breathed, “You won’t need it. Now, shall we go into my quarters?”

It really wasn’t a question as Snape kept her close, backing through the doorway, carrying the witch along, careful to keep his body twisted so she couldn’t knee him. Luckily, he had her arms pinned. Too bad her mouth wasn’t covered. She let out a blue streak of curses at him.

”Such language,” Snape said, letting her go, then swooping out of the way as she took a wild swing at him. “And such . . . violence.”

Hermione threw a front kick at him, which Snape sidestepped, then clasped her face with one pale hand and threw her bodily to the sofa by it. The stunned witched bounced on the cushions as Snape lowered and thoroughly warded the wall.

She wouldn’t be leaving until he let her leave.

”So, you’re going to be a tough guy, now,” she hissed at him as Snape walked over to his desk and put her wand inside the top drawer, closing it and warding it securely. She wouldn’t be getting hold of her wand either.

The wizard muttered something under his breath and placed his wand on top of the desk. Hermione’s eyes narrowed.

Now, Snape approached her slowly.

”Get up,” he hissed at her.

Hermione stood up, her chin thrust out defiantly.

”And I’ve always been a ‘tough guy,’ Miss Granger. I’ve had to be,” he purred at her.

”Isn’t that special,” she replied witheringly.

Snape studied her a moment, his black eyes drifting over her face and robed body, before his face contorted slightly.

”You’re truly a bit of baggage,” the wizard said in a low voice. “You haven’t been in Slytherin one day and you’re willing to cock your legs for Draco Malfoy, while I had to wait, pulling strings for you and suffering through hand jobs and oral sex.”

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him.

”Suffering? Is that what you call it? Didn’t seem like you minded ‘suffering’ when I was doing you,” she said to him tauntingly.

”Then,” he continued, stepping toward her a bit menacingly, “you put me off last night, saying I had to wait . . . then this morning I watched you try to give Mr. Malfoy a tonsillectomy with your tongue, you little guttersnipe, as well as put him on your to-do list.”

”Oh, come now, Professor. Don’t tell me you’re jealous!” Hermione exclaimed. “It’s not like that. You’re just a diversion. What does it matter if I do someone else? I’m just paying a debt to you. That’s it. When I leave here, I won’t give you another thought, unless I get randy.”

Snape’s dark eyes glittered at her when she said this.

And to be honest, right now, I have a whole house full of potential shags. They’re Purebloods . . . but I might be able to move past that while I’m here. No one has to know in my own world. So, I might not need you again. I’m in Slytherin house now, and that’s what I wanted. Now that that’s accomplished, there’s nothing more you can really do for me.”

Snape’s face contorted just a bit more at this statement.

”So, you are telling me, that this tryst will be the last we will share?” he asked her, his eyes hooded.

”Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you. It’s best to be honest in these situations,” the witch told him.

Snape went silent, staring at her until she shifted uncomfortably.

”Well, don’t you have something to say?” she asked him.

”Yes,” Snape replied, his eyes hard as diamonds. “Take off your clothes, you manipulative piece of fluff.”

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Hermione gathered up the robe, nightgown and slippers from the bed, and walked into the bathroom, closing and locking the door. She placed the items on the counter and looked over at the shower. Because of all the excitement in Gryffindor, she hadn’t taken one. Well, the professor shouldn’t mind if she did now. Anyway, it would help her relax. The downside was she would no longer be wearing her makeup. It would be washed away.

”It will probably be sweated away anyhow,” a small voice said in her head.

Hermione swallowed, pushing the voice away, then opened the glass door, turned on the spigot and mixed the water so it was nice and warm.

She let it run as she undressed.

Snape heard the shower turn on, and with eyebrows raised, opened the door and walked into the room. He had arranged it to the configuration of a simple bedroom. He did have some candles waiting to be lit, as well as incense to set a romantic mood for the witch. He hadn’t expected her to shower. Usually, students did that before they came to him. He listened at the door for a moment, then gently tried the knob. He smirked.

She’d locked the door.

Hm.

They hadn’t discussed exactly how they would engage.

A wicked smile crossed the wizard’s face, and he began to disrobe. He didn’t get many chances to do students in the shower, much less virgin students.

He wasn’t about to pass the opportunity up.

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”You don’t scare me, you know,” Hermione said to Snape, unbuttoning the front of her robes without hesitation.

”It’s not my intention to ‘scare’ you,” Snape responded, his eyes resting on her hands. He could see flashes of skin and scant green fabric beneath as her robes parted slightly. She was purposely keeping them together, planning on a grand disrobing, something that would make the wizard go gah-gah.

Unfortunately, Snape was not in a “gah-gah” mood.

”Aren’t you going to undress?” she asked the wizard, who stood there unmoving.

”Eventually,” he replied. “Right now, all I need is access to your body.”

Hermione sneered at him.

”Getting psychological on me, eh? Really, you’re so predictable, Professor. You being dressed isn’t going to make a difference at all, except you’re probably going to have to wash the scent of pussy off of your clothing.

Predictable, eh? Well, he imagined he was predictable, if she was divining he was going to fuck the shit out of her.

”Just take off your clothes,” he said coldly.

Hermione suddenly pulled her robes open and let them fall, revealing a very sexy Slytherin green bra and knickers set, very lacy and very sheer. She gave him a smirk.

”Like what you see?” she asked him.”

”What? More clothing? No,” he snapped at her, catching the bra between her breasts and ripping it off of her. She let out a shriek of outrage!

”That took me ten minutes to transfigure!” Hermione hissed.

”You should have come naked. I have no need for bells and whistles, witch,” Snape replied, grabbing for her knickers.

The witch dipped away from him.

”You try my patience,” Snape snarled, stalking her. Suddenly, Hermione made a dash for the desk, Snape pursuing, then stopping as he saw what she meant to do.

”Tear my clothing off me, will you? Well, I’ll show you,” the witch hissed, snatching his wand off the desk and receiving a horrible shock, electricity crackling around her body before she dropped to the floor, out cold, her hair a frizzy mess.

Snape walked up to the bare-breasted witch, looking down on her.

”Now who’s predictable, Miss Granger?” he purred, reaching down and picking up her limp body, throwing it over his shoulder and heading for his bedroom.

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Hermione stepped into the stream of warm water, letting the flow caress her body as she focused on cleansing herself. She picked up the soap and lathered the washcloth, applying it to her body thoroughly.

She didn’t hear the door unlock, or see the naked wizard easing his way into the bathroom, his dark eyes resting on the stippled shower door, seeing her body in relief. He watched as she slowly soaped her body, his cock hardening at the sight of her. He looked to see her wand on the vanity next to her clothing. Hm. Plain white knickers and bra. Nothing fancy.

At first, Hermione didn’t see him as he slunk up to the glass door, staring in at her soberly. She was rinsing her back. Finally, she turned and let out a little cry as she saw him standing outside the steamy glass, his pale body distorted. But she saw enough to know the wizard was naked.

”What are you doing in here?” she gasped as the wizard slowly drew open the door.

”I heard the shower running,” Snape said softly, stepping into the shower with her and closing the door behind him. “I couldn’t help but . . . investigate. You are lovely, Miss Granger.”

Hermione’s brown eyes drifted down his body, and focused on the enormous erection sticking straight out at her. He was huge. She backed up against the wall, bringing her hand to her mouth, unable to speak. Snape saw where her eyes rested and gave her a crooked smile.

”Don’t be frightened,” he said, the spray of water running down his body, and dripping off the swollen tip of his cock. Hermione stared up at him as he closed the distance between them. He very gently wrapped his arms around Hermione’s waist, drawing her into his hard body, Hermione gasping as his cock rested against her belly. It was hard and pulsing against her skin.

”I’m going to kiss you,” he said softly, “and if you don’t like how it feels, you can tell me to leave, and I will wait for you in the bedroom. If you do like it . . . then . . . we shall have a very pleasant and somewhat slippery interlude right here. And it is worth more points, I might add.”

Snape’s hair was plastered to his head, and water dripped off his face. His eyes were soft, however, and his hold on her very gentle. Despite the hardness trapped between their bodies, Hermione didn’t feel threatened now. A bit self-conscious about their nudity, but they had to be nude. But to be deflowered in a shower stall? How would he do it? Lay her down in the tub perhaps?

Hermione didn’t have time to consider the possibilities as Snape covered her mouth with his own, kissing her deeply, this time tenderly invading her mouth, tasting of brandy as his tongue wrapped around hers. It felt so . . . wrong, but so right to feel him possess her mouth this way, lapping at it lazily, sucking on her tongue. It was so intimate, invasive, so damn good to be standing skin to skin with him, water running from his body to her own, his arms around her, his warmth so close to her own. Hermione gave herself over to the kiss, her arms coiling around his neck, desire snaking through her body and pooling at the apex of her thighs, a nagging, pulsing tingle that made her shift against him, against that hardness pressing against her, no longer frightening, but compelling . . . even promising.

Snape drew back from her lips, looking into her heated eyes.

”Do I go, or do I stay, Miss Granger?” he asked her silkily, his voice dripping with desire.

Hermione blinked up at him, her arms still around his neck.

”Stay,” she breathed, pulling him down into another kiss.


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Hermione awoke, feeling groggy and slightly fried. She was lying on her stomach in Snape’s bed, the wizard seated in a wooden chair against the far wall, watching her as she awoke. The wizard’s bedroom was stark and bare, except for the four-poster bed, a dresser and wardrobe. It looked more like a dungeon than the dungeons did. Manacles on the wall wouldn’t have looked a bit out of place. Torches spluttered in sconces mounted on the walk, casting flickering shadows over the wizard’s pale face.

Hermione lifted her head, then rolled to her side. The first thing she saw were the torn remains of her carefully transfigured green knickers on the floor. She sat up in the bed and frowned at the Potions master, whose eyes glittered back at her.

”That was a dirty trick,” she hissed at him, feeling her hair. It felt hard and frizzy. She looked very much like the original Hermione.

Snape slowly stood up and began to unbutton his robes. She noticed his boots and socks were already removed and sitting on the floor beside the chair. The wizard reached the end of the long line of buttons and let his robes fall off his shoulders, his thin, scarred body bathed in flickering flame. Hermione curled her lip at his underwear.

”Dingy briefs? You could have at least worn a new pair, or better yet . . . grow up a little. Real men wear boxers,” the witch said witheringly.

Snape’s eyes were cold as they swept over the witch, focusing on her thighs before he responded.

”I see no need to sacrifice my comfort for you, witch,” the wizard said softly. “Unlike you, I don’t care about pretty packages. My packaging doesn’t matter. Only my package does. And it’s more than adequate for what I have planned for you.”

Snape bent, swiftly drawing down his briefs and stepping out of them, then straightening, letting them drop to the floor, his pale, uncircumcised cock swollen to an immense size, the thick, bulbous head and weeping eye sticking out from the folds of skin, shining with lubrication. His girth seemed even more daunting because he was so thin in build. Thin, but strong looking, not an inch of fat on him, his musculature tight and corded. There was no way Severus Snape could be mistaken for a weak wizard, despite his size. There were scars on his belly, a few thin ones on his chest, marks from a whip that served as testament as to what his service to the Greater Good entailed. He started toward the bed purposefully, his eyes hard.

Hermione slid back in the bed, resting on her knees as the Potions master climbed in. He was also on his knees and sat back on his heels, his eyes predatory as they rested on the naked witch before him. They faced each other, Hermione’s eyes lingering over his scars with a bit of wonder. What did this wizard go through? Who beat him this way? She’d never been with anyone who bore such marks on his body. No wonder he was so dark and hard. The witch was sure that no matter how soft this world was, the Potions master had not experienced much of that softness. How could he when it was obvious he lived with pain and suffering?

”So, you think a wizard’s underwear proof whether or not he’s a ‘real man?’” he purred at her.

”Who marked you like that?” she asked him in a low voice, ignoring his question. “Who’s whipped you?”

Snape’s lip curled slightly.

”According to you, the greatest wizard of your world . . . Tom Riddle,” he replied. “He is very generous with the lash when it comes to me.”

Hermione’s eyes studied him again, then she gasped and pointed to his left forearm, where a black skull with a serpent curling from its mouth rested in dark relief against his pale skin, the flickering torchlight making the serpent seem to move.

”What’s that?” she asked him.

”Something that I wish wasn’t there. You ask too many questions. Let’s find something else for that mouth to do,” he snarled, catching her by the back of her head and pulling her face down into his lap, grinding it against his erection for a moment before yanking her up a bit by her hair. Her eyes were hot and wild at his treatment, her face glistening with his pre-cum.

It mattered little, however. Hermione Granger loved it rough.

Snape grasped his cock by its base, drawing the tight foreskin down further, and slapping his length against her cheek several times, his lips pursed at the heavy, meaty sound of flesh meeting flesh.

”Open up Miss Granger,” Snape breathed. “It’s time to pay the Potions master, in full.”

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A/N: Lol. Two very different approaches, eh? Oh Snapey. :::sigh::: Thanks for reading.