Inside the Blackest Heart (Edit, Not Update)
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
65
Views:
60,643
Reviews:
1020
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
65
Views:
60,643
Reviews:
1020
Recommended:
1
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.
The Visitation
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 25 ~ The Visitation
Two days later, Hermione found herself patrolling the dungeon corridors again, her last area to check before retiring. She checked the niches and secret rooms and found one snogging couple, who she assigned detention and sent back to their Houses, points intact. She walked past Snape’s office quickly, did a quick scour of the Slytherin area, then hurried back up the hall, past his door, swiftly re-checking the niches and rooms before heading toward Gryffindor Tower and the safety of her room. She didn’t see the Potions office door open and Snape emerge, watching her as she beat a quick retreat out of his domain. The Potions Master started to follow her, but hesitated, then returned to his office, scowling. He had promised himself he would not pursue her, though her need for him was growing more and more apparent by the way she was reacting to him in the classroom.
To those not acquainted with their history, which was practically everyone, Miss Granger simply seemed preoccupied, but to Snape every time those amber eyes dropped when he looked her way, every start of her body when he passed close by, every heavy-lidded daze she went into listening to him lecture, and every weak-kneed response to his telling her off was screaming “fuck me.” And he wanted to. He wanted to see if there was any difference in her now that her powers were emerging. An added impetus was the fact that she was no longer an ordinary little piece, but a Primordial. No wizard had touched a Primordial in over twelve hundred years. He knew there was an added danger to fucking the witch, he didn’t know how her powers would manifest if she were in pain/pleasure or on the brink of orgasm. She might accidentally maim or kill him. But there might be some additional pleasure afforded him via her responses, some magical enhancement of the act too. Snape was used to danger. Caught between the tempestuous nature of the Dark Lord, and the machinations of the Headmaster, he faced possible death every moment. To die fucking a Primordial wouldn’t be the worst way to leave the world.
Hermione returned to her room, feeling flushed. She was experiencing the tingling desire that had led her to the Potions Master brutal arms the last time, and trying her best to curb it. She was sure he knew her need for him was growing. She was sure he took those five points from her because she did not tell him she wanted him to fuck her again. Yet if he knew she wanted him and his twisted possession, why didn’t he act on it like he did last time and assign her detention so she could go to him under feigned duress? His manipulation had made her surrender easier. He had required her presence, and took her choice away that last time. Now she ached for him and he didn’t make a move. Hadn’t he implied that Voldemort wanted him to be intimate with her? Didn’t he know he was disobeying his Lord?
Hermione divestoed all her clothes and climbed into bed. She had decided it would be better to sleep naked than wake tomorrow morning with her nightgown stuck to her body because of her dream-induced climaxes. They felt good, but nowhere near as good as the orgasms the Professor gave her. He was right. In his case, reality was better than the dream. She could almost feel his pale, lean body flexing against hers as he held her down in some dominating position driving himself into her over and over mercilessly. Hermione let out a ragged breath at the thought of the Potions Master’s ardor.
Class was getting difficult too. Her need had her visualizing what was under his severe robes, rather than listening to his instructions. When she did listen, it was mostly to the sensual timber of his voice rather than his actual words. And when he would snarl some nasty remark to her, she’d get wet, remembering his brutal bursts of temper when she didn’t bend to his will fast enough. The dull ache in her lower belly was a constant presence now, and would flare whenever she saw him, remaining a glowing orb of lust burning inside her until he left her sight or class was over. It was getting to the point where seeing him was almost painful. The dreams were not enough, and neither were her fingers. She needed him.
Hermione rolled over and fell into an uneasy sleep. Once again she was in his study, his black eyes locked lustily on her. Once again she was sitting on his desk, and he penetrated her brutally deflowering her and consuming her roughly, claiming every inch of her body as his own. She relived the cycle of the dream, unaware that forces were gathering around her, coalescing, forming a kind of body, a nude replica of her own, but ethereal, not fully cohesive and ghost-like. Her pale double hovered over Hermione a moment, drifting down and lying horizontally above her. Hermione tossed in her bed, but did not wake, still locked in her erotic dream. A bit of golden light passed between the flesh body and the magical body. Her double drifted out of her room, through the common room and out into the halls. It began to descend, passing through the stairwells until it reached the main halls. It hesitated, turning in mid-air, its motions fluid, and pale curling hair flowing about its head as if underwater, then got its bearings and drifted toward the dungeons corridor.
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Snape had stripped down and retired to his bed. He lay there, on top of the covers thinking of the Primordial, of Hermione and silent cursing her for not giving in to her urges and coming to him. His cock was rock hard because of his angry but lustful thoughts of the witch, and he was about to give in to taking it in hand when he felt a surge of power around him. He tried to sit up, and found he couldn’t move. It was as if someone had cast the binding spell on him. But that was impossible. No one was here. His room was dark, but he became aware of a glow beginning to fill it. His black eyes shifted wildly about. He was frightened. The loss of control always was a great fear of his, and his heart was pounding as the glow intensified. Then he saw it. Miss Granger’s double passing through his bedroom door, floating, drifting toward him. What the fuck was going on?
The pale form drifted over him, and lowered itself so he could see it clearly as it hovered. It was definitely the witch’s double. Its eyes were a bit darker than the rest of it, and he watched as the pale orbs swept over him. The form reached out a ghostly hand and touched his chest. He felt his mouth release, and he groaned. The touch of the thing wasn’t exactly physical but he felt a great pleasure where its hand connected. He watched it slide down his body, its hand trailing, leaving a path of bliss behind. The Hermione-double touched his cock, and if he could have moved he would have bucked off the mattress at the intense delight that shot through his shaft. He groaned again. It took its hand away and looked at him with a rather pleading expression on its face, a look of intense need and longing. Suddenly, the being lowered itself, straddling his body. Although it seemed to be a ghost, Snape’s cock didn’t care. It could move, and throbbed hungrily.
Snape was aware of a radiant warmth where the ghost connected with him. It was like the warmth of a living body minus the flesh. Like a life force. Was this Miss Granger’s life force manifested? He didn’t know or care as his cock was enveloped in heat. There was no wetness, but there was softness, and he gasped as the being began to fuck him, waves of pleasure breaking over his cock and withdrawing, like an ocean flowing back and forth over a shoreline. Snape shut his eyes against the incredible, unearthly feeling spreading through his loins as the being increased its pace, rising and falling, its breasts bouncing as if it were a real woman, its mouth curled in a smile of pleasure as its pale eyes met his. Then it stiffened and Snape felt a shifting of consciousness, and he saw a naked Miss Granger asleep in her bed, but moving sensuously, her back arching as she climaxed powerfully with a loud cry.
The image of Hermione coming in her sleep disappeared, and the being moved off of him. Snape groaned in protest. He had not come. His balls were painfully tight while his cock was throbbing for release. The being gave him a naughty half-smile and seemed to shrug its shoulders apologetically before drifting back through the closed bedroom door. The glow dimmed, and Snape found he could move again. Damn. He had just been used by…by…well, he wasn’t sure what he had just been ravished by, but it looked like Miss Granger, and he knew for fact that the witch had just received an awesome orgasm while in her bed. It had to be a manifestation of her powers. She had wanted him and somehow, she managed to get him…rather selfishly too.
He had just had forced disembodied sex with a Primordial. And she had left him hanging.
He sat up on his elbows in his bed, looking down at his throbbing desire-swollen cock. It looked as if it were about to explode, and felt like it too. Scowling, he fell back on the bed and wrapped his fist around his pulsing member. Working his hand feverishly he brought himself to climax, cursing Miss Granger as he came.
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A/N: lol What can I say? Someone requested a dream sequence. I thought that would be too …normal a vehicle. Sooo…hence the Hermione-double. Primordial powers rule. I like that Snape was left to satisfy himself the best way he could after the visitation. Serves him right. Lol. Please review.
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Chapter 25 ~ The Visitation
Two days later, Hermione found herself patrolling the dungeon corridors again, her last area to check before retiring. She checked the niches and secret rooms and found one snogging couple, who she assigned detention and sent back to their Houses, points intact. She walked past Snape’s office quickly, did a quick scour of the Slytherin area, then hurried back up the hall, past his door, swiftly re-checking the niches and rooms before heading toward Gryffindor Tower and the safety of her room. She didn’t see the Potions office door open and Snape emerge, watching her as she beat a quick retreat out of his domain. The Potions Master started to follow her, but hesitated, then returned to his office, scowling. He had promised himself he would not pursue her, though her need for him was growing more and more apparent by the way she was reacting to him in the classroom.
To those not acquainted with their history, which was practically everyone, Miss Granger simply seemed preoccupied, but to Snape every time those amber eyes dropped when he looked her way, every start of her body when he passed close by, every heavy-lidded daze she went into listening to him lecture, and every weak-kneed response to his telling her off was screaming “fuck me.” And he wanted to. He wanted to see if there was any difference in her now that her powers were emerging. An added impetus was the fact that she was no longer an ordinary little piece, but a Primordial. No wizard had touched a Primordial in over twelve hundred years. He knew there was an added danger to fucking the witch, he didn’t know how her powers would manifest if she were in pain/pleasure or on the brink of orgasm. She might accidentally maim or kill him. But there might be some additional pleasure afforded him via her responses, some magical enhancement of the act too. Snape was used to danger. Caught between the tempestuous nature of the Dark Lord, and the machinations of the Headmaster, he faced possible death every moment. To die fucking a Primordial wouldn’t be the worst way to leave the world.
Hermione returned to her room, feeling flushed. She was experiencing the tingling desire that had led her to the Potions Master brutal arms the last time, and trying her best to curb it. She was sure he knew her need for him was growing. She was sure he took those five points from her because she did not tell him she wanted him to fuck her again. Yet if he knew she wanted him and his twisted possession, why didn’t he act on it like he did last time and assign her detention so she could go to him under feigned duress? His manipulation had made her surrender easier. He had required her presence, and took her choice away that last time. Now she ached for him and he didn’t make a move. Hadn’t he implied that Voldemort wanted him to be intimate with her? Didn’t he know he was disobeying his Lord?
Hermione divestoed all her clothes and climbed into bed. She had decided it would be better to sleep naked than wake tomorrow morning with her nightgown stuck to her body because of her dream-induced climaxes. They felt good, but nowhere near as good as the orgasms the Professor gave her. He was right. In his case, reality was better than the dream. She could almost feel his pale, lean body flexing against hers as he held her down in some dominating position driving himself into her over and over mercilessly. Hermione let out a ragged breath at the thought of the Potions Master’s ardor.
Class was getting difficult too. Her need had her visualizing what was under his severe robes, rather than listening to his instructions. When she did listen, it was mostly to the sensual timber of his voice rather than his actual words. And when he would snarl some nasty remark to her, she’d get wet, remembering his brutal bursts of temper when she didn’t bend to his will fast enough. The dull ache in her lower belly was a constant presence now, and would flare whenever she saw him, remaining a glowing orb of lust burning inside her until he left her sight or class was over. It was getting to the point where seeing him was almost painful. The dreams were not enough, and neither were her fingers. She needed him.
Hermione rolled over and fell into an uneasy sleep. Once again she was in his study, his black eyes locked lustily on her. Once again she was sitting on his desk, and he penetrated her brutally deflowering her and consuming her roughly, claiming every inch of her body as his own. She relived the cycle of the dream, unaware that forces were gathering around her, coalescing, forming a kind of body, a nude replica of her own, but ethereal, not fully cohesive and ghost-like. Her pale double hovered over Hermione a moment, drifting down and lying horizontally above her. Hermione tossed in her bed, but did not wake, still locked in her erotic dream. A bit of golden light passed between the flesh body and the magical body. Her double drifted out of her room, through the common room and out into the halls. It began to descend, passing through the stairwells until it reached the main halls. It hesitated, turning in mid-air, its motions fluid, and pale curling hair flowing about its head as if underwater, then got its bearings and drifted toward the dungeons corridor.
********************************
Snape had stripped down and retired to his bed. He lay there, on top of the covers thinking of the Primordial, of Hermione and silent cursing her for not giving in to her urges and coming to him. His cock was rock hard because of his angry but lustful thoughts of the witch, and he was about to give in to taking it in hand when he felt a surge of power around him. He tried to sit up, and found he couldn’t move. It was as if someone had cast the binding spell on him. But that was impossible. No one was here. His room was dark, but he became aware of a glow beginning to fill it. His black eyes shifted wildly about. He was frightened. The loss of control always was a great fear of his, and his heart was pounding as the glow intensified. Then he saw it. Miss Granger’s double passing through his bedroom door, floating, drifting toward him. What the fuck was going on?
The pale form drifted over him, and lowered itself so he could see it clearly as it hovered. It was definitely the witch’s double. Its eyes were a bit darker than the rest of it, and he watched as the pale orbs swept over him. The form reached out a ghostly hand and touched his chest. He felt his mouth release, and he groaned. The touch of the thing wasn’t exactly physical but he felt a great pleasure where its hand connected. He watched it slide down his body, its hand trailing, leaving a path of bliss behind. The Hermione-double touched his cock, and if he could have moved he would have bucked off the mattress at the intense delight that shot through his shaft. He groaned again. It took its hand away and looked at him with a rather pleading expression on its face, a look of intense need and longing. Suddenly, the being lowered itself, straddling his body. Although it seemed to be a ghost, Snape’s cock didn’t care. It could move, and throbbed hungrily.
Snape was aware of a radiant warmth where the ghost connected with him. It was like the warmth of a living body minus the flesh. Like a life force. Was this Miss Granger’s life force manifested? He didn’t know or care as his cock was enveloped in heat. There was no wetness, but there was softness, and he gasped as the being began to fuck him, waves of pleasure breaking over his cock and withdrawing, like an ocean flowing back and forth over a shoreline. Snape shut his eyes against the incredible, unearthly feeling spreading through his loins as the being increased its pace, rising and falling, its breasts bouncing as if it were a real woman, its mouth curled in a smile of pleasure as its pale eyes met his. Then it stiffened and Snape felt a shifting of consciousness, and he saw a naked Miss Granger asleep in her bed, but moving sensuously, her back arching as she climaxed powerfully with a loud cry.
The image of Hermione coming in her sleep disappeared, and the being moved off of him. Snape groaned in protest. He had not come. His balls were painfully tight while his cock was throbbing for release. The being gave him a naughty half-smile and seemed to shrug its shoulders apologetically before drifting back through the closed bedroom door. The glow dimmed, and Snape found he could move again. Damn. He had just been used by…by…well, he wasn’t sure what he had just been ravished by, but it looked like Miss Granger, and he knew for fact that the witch had just received an awesome orgasm while in her bed. It had to be a manifestation of her powers. She had wanted him and somehow, she managed to get him…rather selfishly too.
He had just had forced disembodied sex with a Primordial. And she had left him hanging.
He sat up on his elbows in his bed, looking down at his throbbing desire-swollen cock. It looked as if it were about to explode, and felt like it too. Scowling, he fell back on the bed and wrapped his fist around his pulsing member. Working his hand feverishly he brought himself to climax, cursing Miss Granger as he came.
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A/N: lol What can I say? Someone requested a dream sequence. I thought that would be too …normal a vehicle. Sooo…hence the Hermione-double. Primordial powers rule. I like that Snape was left to satisfy himself the best way he could after the visitation. Serves him right. Lol. Please review.