Humility and Obedience
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
19,359
Reviews:
66
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
19,359
Reviews:
66
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.
Out on a limb...
Disclaimer: I do not own anything that belong J. K. Rowling.
The one... The only... Dorothy!
Authors Note: You will find mild consensual BDSM play in this story. If these things aren’t your brand of firewhiskey... Please move on, move on... Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you!
Alternative url: http://ashwinder.sycophanthex.com/viewuser.php?uid=922
Oh, and I had to cut this chapter a bit short, since I\'m not yet happth tth the part that\'s coming after this. On the other hand, that probably mean, you won\'t have to wait so long for the next update. :)
“Why not go out on a limb? Isn\'t that where the fruit is?” --- Frank Scully
Chapter 3
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit...” Silently cursing, Hermione tracked her way back into the crammed room from the narrow hallway where she just had a most disturbing encounter with Snape. Well, disturbing was perhaps an understatement. It was an alarming... No, she corrected herself; it was a frightening and infuriating confrontation. Meeting Snape again had been deeply upsetting, yet strangely arousing.
Hermione shuddered involuntarily.
“Hermione... over here!” Ginny stood beside Headmistress McGonagall at the far end of the room, waving wildly to get Hermione’s attention over the crowd of partying Wizards and Witches.
With a pounding heart and cotton-mouth, Hermione pushed her way through the crowd. “So this is what I have been reduced to?” she thought. “A whimpering, simpering fool of a girl, still so easily browbeaten by an authority figure like Professor Snape.” But she did also realise that she was high on adrenalin and endorphins. It was the same kind of feeling one can experience before doing something dangerous, like riding on a Muggle roller coaster or skiing down a black-flagged slope.
For a moment, right after Snape left her standing dumbfounded in the hallway; she actually, seriously considered sneaking away from it all. To leave the party, leave her friends and most important of all, leave Snape behind, and go back to her mundane, slightly boring life as if nothing had happened. Instead, here she was on her way to give apologies to Ginny and McGonagall, and leave with the very Wizard who stirred all these conflicting and rousing emotions.
Hermione had never harboured any remotely romantic feelings for Snape back in her school days. She knew that some of the other schoolgirls had secret crushes on Snape, especially after the war ended. When everyone realised that Snape was the proverbial dark, mysterious hero who had been working undercover against the Dark Lord, his face had been found on the front page of the Daily Prophet on a regular basis.
Fantastic tales were told about the dangerous double life he had lived for so many years in the service of Light. After all, that was the stuff romance novels were built on.
Of course, many of the stories where greatly exaggerated, as was the way with the Daily Prophet, but Hermione also knew that most of them had actually happened minus the fluff. She also knew from her work for the Order, that some of the most dangerous and difficult of Snape’s accomplishments never had reached the public eye and never would.
To Hermione though, Snape had always been and remained the menacing, highly unfair teacher that made part of her and her friend’s years at Hogwarts a living nightmare.
***
“Oh Hermione, I’m so sorry about your headache”, McGonagall crooned. “Are you sure you don’t want me to look up Professor Snape? I am sure he has a pain-relieving potion handy. He has been inquiring about you and seemed anxious for you to attend this year’s ceremony, and if it wasn’t for him, I never would have owled requesting your attendance.”
Ginny gave Hermione an odd look as she declined McGonagall’s offer with a vague dismissal while mumbling something about too much work and too little sleep. Unfortunately, Hermione also noticed that Ginny most likely did not buy her excuses, and she was sure she would be facing the ‘third-degree’ the next time they got together.
She took a quick detour via the ladies bathroom to check her makeup and hair before heading for the entrance and her rendezvous with Snape. All the while, the latest encounter with Snape replayed in her head, and as Hermione added the information she just received from McGonagall, realisation suddenly dawned --- It was after all, not she who pursued Snape, but He who pursued her!
Apparently, Snape had gone out of his way to make sure he would run in to her today. From what she remembered from previous discussions with Ginny, Snape never attended the annual post-war ceremony. “Interesting.”
So, Snape was the one who was eager for a repeat performance of their night together. Hermione smiled smugly to herself. The thought made her feel strangely empowered and it was this realisation that finally caused her to make up her mind.
This was a path Hermione was more than willing to follow.
***
Snape found Hermione standing inside the entrance exactly fifteen minutes later as he had requested. He stealthily walked up behind her, grabbed her by the elbow, grimacing at her startled expression as he steered her outside through the Ministry doors. Without any word of greeting or explanation, he proceeded to guide her down the streets of Wizarding London past the Leaky Cauldron.
After a while, Hermione had collected enough of her wits to form a question, “Where are we going?” At first, Snape ignored her. Then he took notice of the way her eyes nervously darted as she took in her surroundings. Instead of answering, he simply halted, turned his head and stared at her for a few moments before asking, not unkindly, “Hermione, the first thing I need to know before we take this any further... Will you trust me, and will you submit to me?”
His eyes bore into hers and once again, she was lost. The world tilted on its side and her vision narrowed until all that remained was a dizzy sensation of falling into darkness. She found she had to break his gaze to regain her bearing and to be able to think clearly. While chewing on her lower lip she considered his question for a moment.
She made her decision and nodded. Snape exhaled exaggeratedly and grabbed her jaw forcing her to once again meet his eyes, “I need you --- to say it --- out loud”, he intoned as if talking to a slow child.
“Yes.”
A slight inclination of his head and a raised eyebrow instantaneously got him the desired response. “Yes Sir, I will trust you and I will submit.”
“Better”, Snape praised in a dry voice. “You are learning fast. But then again you always were an insufferable little know-it-all, eager to please your Professors... where you not?” She gasped at the insult and the hurt it inflicted. Snape took pleasure in the flash of anger he caught in her eyes before she broke free of his hold and stalked ahead.
Snape swiftly caught up with the irate Hermione and proceeded to guide her through the city, a hand placed lightly on her lower back as he wordlessly gave her directions. She was steered south, down Charing Cross Road towards the Thames. Hermione was now too nervous and angry to notice the passing scenery, which was an indication of just how upset his comment had made her. The street was lined with small magical bookstores, neatly packed like sardines in a tin. She wished he would say something... anything. The silence was beginning to grate on her courage. On the other hand, she mused, it may be a blessing that he was silent since he always seemed to trigger her defences with his acerbic tone and cruel remarks.
As they reached Trafalgar Square, they turned west towards St. James’s Park and then south again into the park itself. Hermione once more tried to get a straight answer. “Where are we going, and why don’t we just Apparate there?” She noticed that he was leading her down a path that she remembered eventually would take them to the big pond and Duck Island.
“I am taking you home. And I thought you could use the walk.” Now it was Hermione’s turn to raise an inquiring eyebrow. “Well, I wanted to give you ample amount of time to decide if this is something you really want to do or not. I am a demanding man Miss Granger, and not a very patient one, facts I am sure you are well aware of.” He paused, and then added with a small shrug, “You have the option to change your mind. You can still turn back, you know.” Although his voice was casual, almost to the point of boredom, Hermione could have sworn that there was a hint of uncertainty there.
Suddenly he pulled her to the side of the path. They followed an almost imperceptible pathway in the knee-high grass. They headed towards a small copse of trees and blooming bushes. They entered the grove and to her astonishment, she found that it opened into a small clearing that held the promise of rest.
Snape placed his left hand on her arm, indicating that she was to stand back. Then he drew his wand and started to softly utter incantations Hermione did not quite recognise. Nonetheless, she realised that he was lowering complicated protective wards and sure enough... in a shimmering haze, a small picturesque two-story Tudor style cottage slowly revealed itself. Embedded in greenery pastoral and roofedh whh what looked similar to Norfolk thatch, the entire front porch was covered in foliage Hermione first thought was Devil’s Snare, but realised must be the non-violent Flitterbloom. At least she hoped it was Flitterblooms.
“This is my home. Welcome.”
***
Snape guided her through the garden, up on the veranda and inside the Tudor. As she got her first glimpse of the interior, Hermione almost regretted her decision to follow along on this folly, her previous feeling of anticipation quickly changing into full-blown alarm.
Through the entrance, she found herself in a great room with two dark Chesterfield-styled leather sofas facing each other with a low narrow table between them. Bookcases lined the tapestry covered walls, intermingling with old magical portraits that were whispering among themselves. However, the thing that instantly caught Hermione’s eye was a huge fieldstone fireplace, heavily decorated with antique cast iron implements, some of them looking threateningly like medieval instruments of torture.
Snape smirked to himself as he noticed Hermione’s eyes widen, first in surprise then from fear. “I keep the whips and floggers in my bedroom”, he commented mockingly as he sneaked up behind her and allowed his hands to rest on her shoulders in what could be considered a calming gesture... almost.
Snape allowed her a moment to collect herself, and then decided he had waited long enough! He needed her so badly. He had a little over two months of yearning pent up inside. After all, he was only a man made out of flesh and blood... although some begged to differ on that point. Wryly, he spun her around, dragged her closer, one hand lifting up her chin to briefly catch her eyes before claiming her lips in a determined kiss. His hands slid down her sides and cupped her arse, giving it a good squeeze before he roughly pulled her even closer, up into his kiss.
With a grunt, he pushed his tongue into her mouth.
Hermione felt her breath leave her body right along with her common sense. Her arms, almost of their own accord, slid up to clasp at his shoulders. In order to keep her balance, she held on for dear life while drowning in his intensity. Deciding it was too much too soon, Snape broke their kiss after a couple of minutes. He reached for her hands and unclasped her death grip, bringing them back down to her sides.
“Do not be afraid, Miss Granger. I promise that no harm will befall you tonight, but I do intend to take you on a voyage of discovery.” He slowly stroked the side of her face, allowing one thumb to soothe her bruised lips. “Before this evening is over, you will have found out some truths about yourself and about your desires.” His gentle voice and soothing words overwhelmed her. Hermione found herself at a loss for words as he pick her up in his arms, her own looping around his neck as she buried her face in the small space found between his jaw and the collar of his Victorian frock coat. Overpowered by the warmth and scent from his body, Hermione closed her eyes and awaited her fate.
Snape climbed the stairs, taking two steps at a time, and carried her into a large bedroom that took up almost the entire second floor. The view of the pond was breathtaking from up here with flickering light falling in from the afternoon’s waning sun. As he allowed her to slide down his body and on to a huge four poster bed, she could not keep from gasping as she felt his hardness through the many layers of clothes still separating their bodies. Snape gave her a peculiar look.
“You will rest while I take a quick shower. Understand?”
“But...” she started. A pointed look from Snape quickly quieted her. Instead, she nodded and watched as he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. A sigh escaped her lips as she lay back on the bed. Her hand moved absently over the dark satin bedcover, her mind playing over the events of the day. He had not pressed her since their meeting at the Ministry. Light touches here and there and faint smiles were the only indication of his desire until the moment he had kissed her with such abandon and then carried her upstairs where she had felt his erection. When she thought about it, he had given her several chances to change her mind and turn back. She wondered if she would be forced to ask for what she wanted, whatever that was.
Hermione was not sure what her expectations were any longer.
***
As Snape entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him, he had to lean his back against the door and take a couple of deep cleansing breaths. A few moments ago, he had come so close to completely losing his self-control. The primal urge to rip the witch’s clothes off, pin her to the bed and pound her hard into the mattress, had been almost overwhelming... And that, that would just not do.
Snape was a man who needed to stay in control... no matter what the cost.
If anyone was fully aware of the power behind the seemingly uncomplicated act of sex, it was Snape. Sex was, in his experience, one of the most powerful tools available to assert authority over another human being, and Snape craved authority. Imagine, moments ago, he had been on the verge of sacrificing that upper hand for the temporary bliss achieved by thrusting his cock into her hot... wet... tight... Well, to be completely honest with himself, he would have settled for any of her available orifices.
He swiftly undressed, stepped into the enchanted shower and with a groan rested his forehead against the wall. As the first sprays of cold water hit his body, Snape reached down and grabbed hold of his erection, and with a determined pull, he started to yank.
He would give Hermione a taste of many pleasures tonight, but his cock was not one of them.
TBC…
You know you want to! What are you waiting for? Come on, click on the shiny link below and give the author a treat as thank you for the lemonade. ;)
Authors Note: You will find mild consensual BDSM play in this story. If these things aren’t your brand of firewhiskey... Please move on, move on... Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you!
Alternative url: http://ashwinder.sycophanthex.com/viewuser.php?uid=922
Oh, and I had to cut this chapter a bit short, since I\'m not yet happth tth the part that\'s coming after this. On the other hand, that probably mean, you won\'t have to wait so long for the next update. :)
“Why not go out on a limb? Isn\'t that where the fruit is?” --- Frank Scully
Chapter 3
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit...” Silently cursing, Hermione tracked her way back into the crammed room from the narrow hallway where she just had a most disturbing encounter with Snape. Well, disturbing was perhaps an understatement. It was an alarming... No, she corrected herself; it was a frightening and infuriating confrontation. Meeting Snape again had been deeply upsetting, yet strangely arousing.
Hermione shuddered involuntarily.
“Hermione... over here!” Ginny stood beside Headmistress McGonagall at the far end of the room, waving wildly to get Hermione’s attention over the crowd of partying Wizards and Witches.
With a pounding heart and cotton-mouth, Hermione pushed her way through the crowd. “So this is what I have been reduced to?” she thought. “A whimpering, simpering fool of a girl, still so easily browbeaten by an authority figure like Professor Snape.” But she did also realise that she was high on adrenalin and endorphins. It was the same kind of feeling one can experience before doing something dangerous, like riding on a Muggle roller coaster or skiing down a black-flagged slope.
For a moment, right after Snape left her standing dumbfounded in the hallway; she actually, seriously considered sneaking away from it all. To leave the party, leave her friends and most important of all, leave Snape behind, and go back to her mundane, slightly boring life as if nothing had happened. Instead, here she was on her way to give apologies to Ginny and McGonagall, and leave with the very Wizard who stirred all these conflicting and rousing emotions.
Hermione had never harboured any remotely romantic feelings for Snape back in her school days. She knew that some of the other schoolgirls had secret crushes on Snape, especially after the war ended. When everyone realised that Snape was the proverbial dark, mysterious hero who had been working undercover against the Dark Lord, his face had been found on the front page of the Daily Prophet on a regular basis.
Fantastic tales were told about the dangerous double life he had lived for so many years in the service of Light. After all, that was the stuff romance novels were built on.
Of course, many of the stories where greatly exaggerated, as was the way with the Daily Prophet, but Hermione also knew that most of them had actually happened minus the fluff. She also knew from her work for the Order, that some of the most dangerous and difficult of Snape’s accomplishments never had reached the public eye and never would.
To Hermione though, Snape had always been and remained the menacing, highly unfair teacher that made part of her and her friend’s years at Hogwarts a living nightmare.
“Oh Hermione, I’m so sorry about your headache”, McGonagall crooned. “Are you sure you don’t want me to look up Professor Snape? I am sure he has a pain-relieving potion handy. He has been inquiring about you and seemed anxious for you to attend this year’s ceremony, and if it wasn’t for him, I never would have owled requesting your attendance.”
Ginny gave Hermione an odd look as she declined McGonagall’s offer with a vague dismissal while mumbling something about too much work and too little sleep. Unfortunately, Hermione also noticed that Ginny most likely did not buy her excuses, and she was sure she would be facing the ‘third-degree’ the next time they got together.
She took a quick detour via the ladies bathroom to check her makeup and hair before heading for the entrance and her rendezvous with Snape. All the while, the latest encounter with Snape replayed in her head, and as Hermione added the information she just received from McGonagall, realisation suddenly dawned --- It was after all, not she who pursued Snape, but He who pursued her!
Apparently, Snape had gone out of his way to make sure he would run in to her today. From what she remembered from previous discussions with Ginny, Snape never attended the annual post-war ceremony. “Interesting.”
So, Snape was the one who was eager for a repeat performance of their night together. Hermione smiled smugly to herself. The thought made her feel strangely empowered and it was this realisation that finally caused her to make up her mind.
This was a path Hermione was more than willing to follow.
Snape found Hermione standing inside the entrance exactly fifteen minutes later as he had requested. He stealthily walked up behind her, grabbed her by the elbow, grimacing at her startled expression as he steered her outside through the Ministry doors. Without any word of greeting or explanation, he proceeded to guide her down the streets of Wizarding London past the Leaky Cauldron.
After a while, Hermione had collected enough of her wits to form a question, “Where are we going?” At first, Snape ignored her. Then he took notice of the way her eyes nervously darted as she took in her surroundings. Instead of answering, he simply halted, turned his head and stared at her for a few moments before asking, not unkindly, “Hermione, the first thing I need to know before we take this any further... Will you trust me, and will you submit to me?”
His eyes bore into hers and once again, she was lost. The world tilted on its side and her vision narrowed until all that remained was a dizzy sensation of falling into darkness. She found she had to break his gaze to regain her bearing and to be able to think clearly. While chewing on her lower lip she considered his question for a moment.
She made her decision and nodded. Snape exhaled exaggeratedly and grabbed her jaw forcing her to once again meet his eyes, “I need you --- to say it --- out loud”, he intoned as if talking to a slow child.
“Yes.”
A slight inclination of his head and a raised eyebrow instantaneously got him the desired response. “Yes Sir, I will trust you and I will submit.”
“Better”, Snape praised in a dry voice. “You are learning fast. But then again you always were an insufferable little know-it-all, eager to please your Professors... where you not?” She gasped at the insult and the hurt it inflicted. Snape took pleasure in the flash of anger he caught in her eyes before she broke free of his hold and stalked ahead.
Snape swiftly caught up with the irate Hermione and proceeded to guide her through the city, a hand placed lightly on her lower back as he wordlessly gave her directions. She was steered south, down Charing Cross Road towards the Thames. Hermione was now too nervous and angry to notice the passing scenery, which was an indication of just how upset his comment had made her. The street was lined with small magical bookstores, neatly packed like sardines in a tin. She wished he would say something... anything. The silence was beginning to grate on her courage. On the other hand, she mused, it may be a blessing that he was silent since he always seemed to trigger her defences with his acerbic tone and cruel remarks.
As they reached Trafalgar Square, they turned west towards St. James’s Park and then south again into the park itself. Hermione once more tried to get a straight answer. “Where are we going, and why don’t we just Apparate there?” She noticed that he was leading her down a path that she remembered eventually would take them to the big pond and Duck Island.
“I am taking you home. And I thought you could use the walk.” Now it was Hermione’s turn to raise an inquiring eyebrow. “Well, I wanted to give you ample amount of time to decide if this is something you really want to do or not. I am a demanding man Miss Granger, and not a very patient one, facts I am sure you are well aware of.” He paused, and then added with a small shrug, “You have the option to change your mind. You can still turn back, you know.” Although his voice was casual, almost to the point of boredom, Hermione could have sworn that there was a hint of uncertainty there.
Suddenly he pulled her to the side of the path. They followed an almost imperceptible pathway in the knee-high grass. They headed towards a small copse of trees and blooming bushes. They entered the grove and to her astonishment, she found that it opened into a small clearing that held the promise of rest.
Snape placed his left hand on her arm, indicating that she was to stand back. Then he drew his wand and started to softly utter incantations Hermione did not quite recognise. Nonetheless, she realised that he was lowering complicated protective wards and sure enough... in a shimmering haze, a small picturesque two-story Tudor style cottage slowly revealed itself. Embedded in greenery pastoral and roofedh whh what looked similar to Norfolk thatch, the entire front porch was covered in foliage Hermione first thought was Devil’s Snare, but realised must be the non-violent Flitterbloom. At least she hoped it was Flitterblooms.
“This is my home. Welcome.”
Snape guided her through the garden, up on the veranda and inside the Tudor. As she got her first glimpse of the interior, Hermione almost regretted her decision to follow along on this folly, her previous feeling of anticipation quickly changing into full-blown alarm.
Through the entrance, she found herself in a great room with two dark Chesterfield-styled leather sofas facing each other with a low narrow table between them. Bookcases lined the tapestry covered walls, intermingling with old magical portraits that were whispering among themselves. However, the thing that instantly caught Hermione’s eye was a huge fieldstone fireplace, heavily decorated with antique cast iron implements, some of them looking threateningly like medieval instruments of torture.
Snape smirked to himself as he noticed Hermione’s eyes widen, first in surprise then from fear. “I keep the whips and floggers in my bedroom”, he commented mockingly as he sneaked up behind her and allowed his hands to rest on her shoulders in what could be considered a calming gesture... almost.
Snape allowed her a moment to collect herself, and then decided he had waited long enough! He needed her so badly. He had a little over two months of yearning pent up inside. After all, he was only a man made out of flesh and blood... although some begged to differ on that point. Wryly, he spun her around, dragged her closer, one hand lifting up her chin to briefly catch her eyes before claiming her lips in a determined kiss. His hands slid down her sides and cupped her arse, giving it a good squeeze before he roughly pulled her even closer, up into his kiss.
With a grunt, he pushed his tongue into her mouth.
Hermione felt her breath leave her body right along with her common sense. Her arms, almost of their own accord, slid up to clasp at his shoulders. In order to keep her balance, she held on for dear life while drowning in his intensity. Deciding it was too much too soon, Snape broke their kiss after a couple of minutes. He reached for her hands and unclasped her death grip, bringing them back down to her sides.
“Do not be afraid, Miss Granger. I promise that no harm will befall you tonight, but I do intend to take you on a voyage of discovery.” He slowly stroked the side of her face, allowing one thumb to soothe her bruised lips. “Before this evening is over, you will have found out some truths about yourself and about your desires.” His gentle voice and soothing words overwhelmed her. Hermione found herself at a loss for words as he pick her up in his arms, her own looping around his neck as she buried her face in the small space found between his jaw and the collar of his Victorian frock coat. Overpowered by the warmth and scent from his body, Hermione closed her eyes and awaited her fate.
Snape climbed the stairs, taking two steps at a time, and carried her into a large bedroom that took up almost the entire second floor. The view of the pond was breathtaking from up here with flickering light falling in from the afternoon’s waning sun. As he allowed her to slide down his body and on to a huge four poster bed, she could not keep from gasping as she felt his hardness through the many layers of clothes still separating their bodies. Snape gave her a peculiar look.
“You will rest while I take a quick shower. Understand?”
“But...” she started. A pointed look from Snape quickly quieted her. Instead, she nodded and watched as he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. A sigh escaped her lips as she lay back on the bed. Her hand moved absently over the dark satin bedcover, her mind playing over the events of the day. He had not pressed her since their meeting at the Ministry. Light touches here and there and faint smiles were the only indication of his desire until the moment he had kissed her with such abandon and then carried her upstairs where she had felt his erection. When she thought about it, he had given her several chances to change her mind and turn back. She wondered if she would be forced to ask for what she wanted, whatever that was.
Hermione was not sure what her expectations were any longer.
As Snape entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him, he had to lean his back against the door and take a couple of deep cleansing breaths. A few moments ago, he had come so close to completely losing his self-control. The primal urge to rip the witch’s clothes off, pin her to the bed and pound her hard into the mattress, had been almost overwhelming... And that, that would just not do.
Snape was a man who needed to stay in control... no matter what the cost.
If anyone was fully aware of the power behind the seemingly uncomplicated act of sex, it was Snape. Sex was, in his experience, one of the most powerful tools available to assert authority over another human being, and Snape craved authority. Imagine, moments ago, he had been on the verge of sacrificing that upper hand for the temporary bliss achieved by thrusting his cock into her hot... wet... tight... Well, to be completely honest with himself, he would have settled for any of her available orifices.
He swiftly undressed, stepped into the enchanted shower and with a groan rested his forehead against the wall. As the first sprays of cold water hit his body, Snape reached down and grabbed hold of his erection, and with a determined pull, he started to yank.
He would give Hermione a taste of many pleasures tonight, but his cock was not one of them.
TBC…
You know you want to! What are you waiting for? Come on, click on the shiny link below and give the author a treat as thank you for the lemonade. ;)