100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,631
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,631
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
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.
Taste
Title: Taste
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: T+
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble
Warnings: None.
Summary: #39 – Taste. Severus tasted like anise drops.
Word Count: 833 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. This one was FUN!
Prompt 39 – Taste
Severus tasted like anise drops.
He pushed her away as if to toss her as far away from him as possible. The disgust written on his face did not deter her, however, she was far too happy to ever be put off her joy.
When Hermione’s back hit the wall and the Black family tapestry, she let out a sigh. Severus Snape, a man Harry had said died five years earlier in the Shrieking Shack was standing in the sitting room of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He was not nearly as pale as she remembered, but his clothing, complete with the fluttering robes were exactly how she pictured them to be in her memories.
“How dare you!” he bellowed, taking a step back from her, his black eyes glittering.
Hermione smirked, he was trying to decipher something about her, and she could feel a prod between her eyes. When he came back with nothing, his eyes began to study her body.
Hermione was dressed in a fine gown of dark red taffeta, expensive heels and a brocade bolero jacket. Her hair was coiffed with ruby coloured pins and her face wore only a pale red eye shadow and lipstick. She had just returned from the opera with Percy…house sitting Grimmauld Place for Harry and Ginny for the autumn while they vacationed in Greece after their wedding. What a shock it had been to find Severus Snape in the sitting room…
Composing herself, Hermione straightened. “I might say the same of you, sir, coming into people’s homes uninvited,” she said stiffly, still tasting anise on the tip of her tongue. She had always loved anise…
Severus also straightened, crossing his arms before his chest, his face darkening with anger.
“And who are you, young lady?”
Hermione laughed, unable to contain herself. Five years was not so long a time. She had changed, surely…but Severus, strangely, had not seemed to age at all.
“You are supposed to be dead, sir,” she answered by way of not answering.
Severus’ face contorted briefly and he let his arms fall to his sides.
“But it seems you are not…” she whispered.
He seemed more substantial than she remembered, filling his robes with a true form, and not like the wraithlike body she remembered.
“You know me?”
She nodded, and pushed off the tapestry. Severus did not flinch when Hermione stepped near, her eyes studying his face, his hands, the only two uncovered parts of him she could see.
“I know you quite well, but it seems you do not know me.”
Severus finally sighed to breathe when Hermione stepped away from him.
“Hermione Granger?” she asked an eyebrow raising in anticipation of some nasty rebuke for kissing him.
Severus said nothing. It was clear by his sour expression, which Hermione had learned years before, had varying degrees of expression, that he did not have a clue as to who she was…
Hermione leaned toward him again, brows furrowing…and touched his face as she moved to the tips of her toes. He felt real and alive, but still Hermione was puzzled. Bringing her face close, she sniffed at his jaw, his neck. She could smell anise…and potions fumes. It was as if he had stepped through some crack in time from eight years before to that very moment.
“You know me well enough to kiss me?” he asked, his voice just as deep and sensuous as she remembered. Hermione had missed his voice, even when it was scathing and cruel. She had always respected him, trusted him, until the very end.
At his question, Hermione began to recoil, slipping to stand fully on her feet…but, found that she was being held by two large hands, grasping her upper arms.
He kissed her again, and she felt she would like to taste anise forever. His tongue tangled with hers, and she moaned into his mouth, her hands grasping the front of his robes. Hermione knew she tasted like tea, a sweet chai mixture Percy had given her at his flat…but with Severus’ anise flavour, she found the chai too sweet.
Severus released her, but still Hermione kissed him, her right hand moving from his wide chest to touch his hair. It was slightly greasy…but it was real.
Finally pulling away, Hermione swayed on her feet, causing Severus to grasp her elbow to steady her. She gazed up through her lashes at his face. He did not smile, instead he stared back at her, confusion clear in his scowl.
“I assume you are a member of the Order. I need to speak with Harry Potter, immediately.”
Hermione blinked, and opened her mouth to speak, anise thick on her tongue. “You…you are really Severus Snape?”
His scowl deepened. “Yes, and I need to speak to Harry Potter immediately.”
She wanted to ask why. Why now? But the anise had numbed her tongue, and Severus’ face, and his kiss, had numbed her mind. And with an unattractive moan, she collapsed into Severus’ arms.
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: T+
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble
Warnings: None.
Summary: #39 – Taste. Severus tasted like anise drops.
Word Count: 833 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. This one was FUN!
Prompt 39 – Taste
Severus tasted like anise drops.
He pushed her away as if to toss her as far away from him as possible. The disgust written on his face did not deter her, however, she was far too happy to ever be put off her joy.
When Hermione’s back hit the wall and the Black family tapestry, she let out a sigh. Severus Snape, a man Harry had said died five years earlier in the Shrieking Shack was standing in the sitting room of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He was not nearly as pale as she remembered, but his clothing, complete with the fluttering robes were exactly how she pictured them to be in her memories.
“How dare you!” he bellowed, taking a step back from her, his black eyes glittering.
Hermione smirked, he was trying to decipher something about her, and she could feel a prod between her eyes. When he came back with nothing, his eyes began to study her body.
Hermione was dressed in a fine gown of dark red taffeta, expensive heels and a brocade bolero jacket. Her hair was coiffed with ruby coloured pins and her face wore only a pale red eye shadow and lipstick. She had just returned from the opera with Percy…house sitting Grimmauld Place for Harry and Ginny for the autumn while they vacationed in Greece after their wedding. What a shock it had been to find Severus Snape in the sitting room…
Composing herself, Hermione straightened. “I might say the same of you, sir, coming into people’s homes uninvited,” she said stiffly, still tasting anise on the tip of her tongue. She had always loved anise…
Severus also straightened, crossing his arms before his chest, his face darkening with anger.
“And who are you, young lady?”
Hermione laughed, unable to contain herself. Five years was not so long a time. She had changed, surely…but Severus, strangely, had not seemed to age at all.
“You are supposed to be dead, sir,” she answered by way of not answering.
Severus’ face contorted briefly and he let his arms fall to his sides.
“But it seems you are not…” she whispered.
He seemed more substantial than she remembered, filling his robes with a true form, and not like the wraithlike body she remembered.
“You know me?”
She nodded, and pushed off the tapestry. Severus did not flinch when Hermione stepped near, her eyes studying his face, his hands, the only two uncovered parts of him she could see.
“I know you quite well, but it seems you do not know me.”
Severus finally sighed to breathe when Hermione stepped away from him.
“Hermione Granger?” she asked an eyebrow raising in anticipation of some nasty rebuke for kissing him.
Severus said nothing. It was clear by his sour expression, which Hermione had learned years before, had varying degrees of expression, that he did not have a clue as to who she was…
Hermione leaned toward him again, brows furrowing…and touched his face as she moved to the tips of her toes. He felt real and alive, but still Hermione was puzzled. Bringing her face close, she sniffed at his jaw, his neck. She could smell anise…and potions fumes. It was as if he had stepped through some crack in time from eight years before to that very moment.
“You know me well enough to kiss me?” he asked, his voice just as deep and sensuous as she remembered. Hermione had missed his voice, even when it was scathing and cruel. She had always respected him, trusted him, until the very end.
At his question, Hermione began to recoil, slipping to stand fully on her feet…but, found that she was being held by two large hands, grasping her upper arms.
He kissed her again, and she felt she would like to taste anise forever. His tongue tangled with hers, and she moaned into his mouth, her hands grasping the front of his robes. Hermione knew she tasted like tea, a sweet chai mixture Percy had given her at his flat…but with Severus’ anise flavour, she found the chai too sweet.
Severus released her, but still Hermione kissed him, her right hand moving from his wide chest to touch his hair. It was slightly greasy…but it was real.
Finally pulling away, Hermione swayed on her feet, causing Severus to grasp her elbow to steady her. She gazed up through her lashes at his face. He did not smile, instead he stared back at her, confusion clear in his scowl.
“I assume you are a member of the Order. I need to speak with Harry Potter, immediately.”
Hermione blinked, and opened her mouth to speak, anise thick on her tongue. “You…you are really Severus Snape?”
His scowl deepened. “Yes, and I need to speak to Harry Potter immediately.”
She wanted to ask why. Why now? But the anise had numbed her tongue, and Severus’ face, and his kiss, had numbed her mind. And with an unattractive moan, she collapsed into Severus’ arms.