A Looping of the Scales ~ COMPLETED

Chapter 38 ~ Mutual Realizations

”What? You saw Snape snogging Hermione?” Harry asked Ron incredulously. He, Ginny and Ron were heading for Gryffindor tower. Hermione had gone on ahead, and was probably studying in her rooms.

Ron’s brow furrowed.

”Well, I can’t actually call it snogging, Harry. I mean, he had her pinned down on the ground, but he didn’t really snog her—you know, snogging is kind of heavy kissing. He kind of just gave her a little kiss. No tongue. If it was me who had her in that position, I would have gone tonsil diving—“

Ginny made a face.

”You’re so romantic, Ron,” she said witheringly.

”I know,” Ron replied, Ginny’s sarcasm flying right over his head. “Still Hermione looked kind of surprised, but not angry—then I hexed him with an itching spell.”

”Ron!” Ginny exclaimed.

”Oh come on, Ginny. Like you wouldn’t have done the same thing. It was the perfect opportunity to get a couple of points,” Ron countered.

”So, why didn’t you hex Hermione, too?” Ginny asked him. “If it was just points you were after.”

”I did. Just—later,” Ron said a bit sullenly. He didn’t tell them about Snape putting him under the Imperio spell and making him dance in his underwear. That had been humiliating.

”Come on, Ron, weren’t you a little jealous? Snape kissing Hermione?” Harry asked him.

Ron hunched his shoulders a bit.

”Yeah, but not as much as you’d think, Harry. I don’t know. You saw how he saved her from Blaise. He didn’t even get a good look at her naked—he just covered her right up with his robes, then punched Blaise.”

They walked in silence for a few feet, then Ron added, “She seems a lot happier now. Not so stressed.”

“Are you happier?”

”Not really, but I’m not so bad off.”

Just then, a witch with a long plait down her back walked by them. She was holding a glistening, dark, rich Bishop’s cake, filled with Brazil nuts, dates, and red and green glazed cherries. It rested on a decorative plate. Ron stopped nose-first as the witch passed, closing his eyes and taking a whiff. He turned mechanically.

”Oh, Merlin,” he breathed, following her as if under the Imperius again.

Harry and Ginny just watched him for a moment, then shook their heads and kept going. Witches didn’t put Ron on the prowl—but food? That was a completely different story. Harry used to tease him sometimes, saying he would rather wank off to illustrated cookbooks rather than girly magazines.

Ron followed the witch a few paces behind then saw she was descending into the dungeon area opposite the Slytherin corridor. The Hufflepuff side. He hurried to catch her.

”Susan!” he called.

Susan Bones stopped, turned and gave Ron a smile as he walked up, his blue eyes resting on the cake.

”Hi Ron,” she said, still smiling.

Susan Bones was a Hufflepuff, and used to be a member of Dumbledore’s Army. Like Helga Hufflepuff, she had a way with food that was almost magical.

”Hi,” Ron said, licking his lips a little as he looked at the glistening confection. “That cake looks delicious.”

”Thank you,” Susan replied. “It’s a birthday cake I made for Megan Jones. She just turned eighteen.”

”Oh,” Ron said, disappointment in his voice. He could hardly ask for a piece of cake before the birthday witch had a slice.

”Um—I saw your form the other day,” Susan said, turning a little pink.

Ron’s eyes shifted from the cake to Susan’s face, and he grinned.

”Pretty cool form, eh?” he said rather proudly.

”Oh, it is—except---“

”I know. The nads,” Ron said with a wicked grin. “But, it’s an animal, so that shouldn’t matter.”

Susan’s blush turned deeper.

”Yes—about – about the sexual organs. It’s a shame really—“

Ron looked shocked.

”A shame? What are you talking about?”

”Well, it’s such a great form, but a shame that it’s—er---anatomically incorrect. You can get points for being an Animagus for the NEWTS, but if the form is altered, then you don’t get full points.”

”What do you mean, Susan?” Ron asked her, alarmed. “Altered?”

Susan relaxed a bit now.

”Well, I like animals, and I looked up your orangutan form in Newt Scamander’s Muggle Beasties and Where to Find Them. An orangutan’s penis is about an inch long and very tiny.”

”What?”

Susan nodded.

”So, you’re off about eight or nine inches. But your scrotum is the right size.”

Ron blinked at her, stunned.

”I don’t bloody believe it. My nads are too big?”

”For an orangutan, yes,” Susan replied. “I guess you didn’t know. I’m sorry, Ron.”

“No. No, I didn’t,” he said, appearing to visibly wilt. Susan felt bad for him.

”But everything else about it is all right,” she said, trying to lift his spirits, but Ron was crushed. The orangutan was a good form, but it was—deformed. He hadn’t known that. He assumed a big ape would have big nads. Nature was a cruel mistress.

“I’m—I’m going to go, Susan. Nice cake,” Ron said, turning and heading for the marble stairwell. Susan looked after him, her brown eyes sad. She hadn’t meant to knock the wind out of his robes. She sighed, and continued on to Hufflepuff house.

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Harry laughed so hard he fell off the side of his bed and onto the floor, curling up and holding his stomach as Ron glared at him.

”It’s not funny, Harry,” he hissed at his insensitive friend.

”An—an inch? Ahahahahaha!” Harry gasped. “Gods, I’m going to piss myself.”

”I hope you do,” Ron growled at him, plopping down on his bed.

This was awful. He could still document the transformation and the information he’d learned, but not getting perfect marks for the form was a real downer. He’d still do quite well, but not as well as he wanted.

”Maybe I should wear shorts,” he muttered.

Harry climbed back up in the bed, lifting up his glasses and wiping at his wet eyes, trying to get himself under control. But, damn, that was funny. A creature that big having a cock so tiny. It was like a celestial joke or something.

“Oh, come on, Ron. So you have great big nads. Actually, I think it’s better than having little ones. What would the witches think?” he said. “Better they think you have a huge one than next to nothing.”

Ron made a noise.

”And the wizards. If your nads were that tiny you would have never heard the end of it, Ron, believe me. It might be a deformation, but—it works for you. So, you don’t get a few points. You wouldn’t be getting any extra points at all if you hadn’t found your Animagus form. Look at it that way,” Harry told him. “Your form is—is ‘enhanced.’ Suitable for a wizard. The other way—“

Ron looked up at Harry and realized he was right. Sure, his form might not get perfect marks, but at least he wasn’t going to appear prickless when transformed. First impressions were everything. It wasn’t a far jump to figure if he had a big ape cock, then his human form couldn’t be far behind. Better big than little.

”You’re right, Harry. I should just count my blessings, shouldn’t I?”

Harry nodded, then grimaced as Ron turned into the orangutan, walked over to the mirror and started swinging his nads around while making cooing noises. He certainly recovered quickly.

Sometimes, too quickly.

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Hermione sat on her bed, slowly unbuttoning Severus’ robes, looking thoughtful. He might have saved her life tonight. Blaise’s spell could have been fatal. She blushed a little at the thought of him tackling her naked, but he didn’t even look at her body really. He removed his robes and covered her immediately, nothing but concern on his face—and then anger.

His robes smelled like him, only kind of earthy, probably from rolling around on the forest floor trying to get his wand after she tied him up. She smiled a little as she remembered his surprise when she hexed him while he was kissing her. He had such a gentle kiss—it made her wonder a little about—about how he’d be in an intimate situation.

Probably rather clumsy and—fast, like most wizards starting out. It was hard to imagine Severus Snape being clumsy about anything, but sex for the first time was never smooth. Still, he’d probably learn quickly—

Hermione colored. Why was she even thinking about sex and Severus in the same sentence?

She wanted to shag him, that was why. And it embarrassed her that she’d thought about it every single time he kissed her. It embarrassed her because—because she’d always believed there should be some kind of commitment when a witch was intimate with a wizard. You didn’t just—do it because you wanted to do it. You just didn’t give a man your body like that.

“He’d be giving something, too,” a little voice said in her head.

Commitment. Hermione couldn’t make a commitment to anyone right now. The NEWTS had taken over her life. That was what went wrong with her and Ron. Well, not the only thing. Her plans for the future didn’t jibe either.

She slowly opened Snape’s robes and looked down on her nude body. Her nipples were hard, and it wasn’t from coldness. It was because of Severus. He didn’t expect any commitment. He just said he’d be there—anyway she wanted him.

Hermione felt a delicious shudder quake her body. Merlin.

She didn’t know if seeing him in action in the ROR had anything to do with it, or his saving her from being sliced by Blaise. Could it be she just felt she owed him something and was thinking about sex with him because she knew it was what he wanted?

He never actually said it. That he wanted to shag her, but it was clear he did, by his kisses and innuendos. He’d told her he was a virgin and it seemed he didn’t want to stay one. He didn’t—push, but in a way he did. Hermione found she wanted to push right back.

Why not? It wasn’t as if she were a virgin, although she didn’t really have much experience other than a bit of hot snogging and being penetrated by Ron. For Hermione, the kissing and caressing had been much better than the sex, but there was a lot of fumbling going on, stopping and starting that kept interfering with the mood. It wasn’t anything like the way she thought it would be, which was why they only did it once.

Would it be the same way with Severus? It could be worse. Ron wasn’t a virgin when they shagged, just nervous because he was with Hermione and he cared about her. So, it made him hesitant and cautious. If he had been more aggressive, it would have been better for her, and she would have been able to feel his passion rather than his worry.

But she could feel Severus. She didn’t know what it was about him. Maybe it was because he was like her in a lot of ways. Marks and study really mattered to him. Or maybe it was just because of who he used to be and who he would become. Or was it that she’d like to be the one to pop his cherry?

Hermione colored again.

It really could be that simple. She could just want to be his first and have that claim. Not that she’d share it with anyone, but—it was rather appealing, if naughty. Hermione knew she had a naughty streak. She tried to hide it, push it down, but it popped up now and again, like in the ROR. She could have told everyone about the age line once the review stopped, but she didn’t.

And she did sort of toss Severus on his arse after the fact.

Hermione sat there in Snape’s robes, unwilling to take them off, the fabric clinging to her nude body. They smelled like him, although she couldn’t say what the scent was exactly like. She laid down on her back in the bed, and folded them over her, closing her eyes and seeing his face.

She sighed and pulled his robes tighter around her body as she felt a tingling between her thighs. She shifted, then rather guiltily opened his robes and ran her hands over her body before slipping two fingers between her wet folds and masturbating gently, imagining Severus on top of her. But playing with herself wasn’t good enough.

She was going to have to do something about this.

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Snape sat in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames. He was in his shirt and trousers. Hermione still had his robes.

The firelight reflected in his dark eyes as he sat there, one hand curled around the glass of Firewhiskey on the rocks that he’d made for himself. He sipped it slowly.

Everyone had been quite good at the review but Hermione was brilliant. So was Blaise, really. But he was a dark one for sure. Snape didn’t show all of his spells, the ones he didn’t write in his Advanced Potions book. He just used the basics. It was better not to show one’s hand.

Harry didn’t do badly, but Snape knew instinctively that the boy who lived didn’t have the heart to be truly nasty. He’d managed to kill Voldemort, but it was with the help of the Elder Wand. And in all of his adventures, he was basically defending either himself or those he cared about.

Ron, Snape knew he could be a nasty piece of work if he were so inclined. And his sister Ginny—Merlin, she was a sneaky, self-serving little witch. She might have done well in Slytherin.

Draco, he had a good heart under all that handsomeness, but he didn’t like putting himself in danger at all. He had the flight instinct, not the fight instinct. Self-preservation at its finest. He wasn’t a total coward. His attempt to stop Blaise’s fireball hex showed that, but Snape wouldn’t trust him to have his back in a hard situation.

Hermione, however, didn’t seem to have a problem with getting nasty if someone was getting nasty first. She was a powerful witch and a good duelist. He might have to break out a few of his original spells to duel her, and he had a feeling that, like him, Hermione hadn’t shown nearly a quarter of the spells she knew.

He frowned slightly. She’d been naked, and he’d had his hands on her, but didn’t get a chance to enjoy it. He remembered softness, and a glimpse of skin, but that was it. He had been so afraid for her and so angry at Blaise that he covered her quickly.

But, she was soft and warm.

He felt himself swell a little and wondered if he should be more aggressive towards her. This waiting around for her to come around wasn’t conducive to his deflowerment at all.

He swallowed down the rest of his Firewhiskey, then set the glass on the small table between the armchairs. He closed his eyes, seeing Hermione standing in the forest, draped in his robes, naked and accessible underneath them.

He got a full erection.

”Merlin,” he hissed, undoing his belt so he could relieve his urges. He didn’t do this often, but—he needed relief.

”Damn,” he groaned as he stood up and pulled out his cock, his trousers dropping around his thighs. He spit into his palm and began slowly fisting his tool, pointing it at the fireplace as he focused on Hermione. But wanking off just wasn’t good enough.

He was going to have to do something about this.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.