Professor Snape Loses It

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 4 ~ Saturday Arrives

Up to this point, Severus had been having a pretty good day. Now he lay in his bed thinking about the mess he was in. Who could have thought Hermione was so sneaky and lascivious? She was a good-looking woman and could find plenty of willing wizards to tweak her twat. Why him? He knew why. It was the ‘virgin’ thing. When women found out there was a male virgin of a mature age running about , something just happened to their libidos. It was like some “revenge of the sexes” bell went off in their collective little heads, and their vaginas started snapping. It seemed that almost every woman’s secret, secret fantasy was to pop a man’s cherry and restore the honor of all deflowered femalekind. He sighed.

He would never have thought that Hermione was of that mindset. If a male wizard had done this, it would be considered reprehensible. Trapping a female in such a way, but no, since he had a cock, it was supposed to be all right. He frowned thoughtfully. Hm. Maybe it wasn’t all right. Maybe he could go to the Headmaster and complain he was being sexually harassed by a fellow staff member…a very serious charge. Sure, it was the bitch’s way out, but Hermione Granger? Brrrr. Okay. So she aroused him. Well, not him. His cock. And as every man knows who’s honest, a cock has a mind of its own, and will raise its head at the most inopportune moment. His cock was so big there had to be gallons of testosterone running through him. It took a lot of discipline for Severus to keep his sex drive under control, but he had done it all his life. It was actually a point of pride for him, not to be brought to his knees by the fairer sex as so many wizards had before him.

He had bad recollections about the sex act, due to the Dark Lord, but he was able to discern between that madness and normal sexuality. He knew he wouldn’t purposely injure a woman if he were in that position, it’s just he was comfortable as he was. He had no burning desire to be inside a woman. He’d rather brew a potion than fuck. Given, that wasn’t a normal attitude, but there it was. Hermione had proven in her crude little way, that the female body caused a very real reaction in him and most likely he would be able to perform, whether or not his mind was involved. It all sounded so animal, and Severus Snape was not an animal. He was a rational, intelligent, disciplined wizard who had made a life choice to leave women the hell alone. Now here comes Hermione with her sneaky little plan, and caught him just as if she had hidden behind a tree and threw a net over him.

She wasn’t going to get away with this. He was going to see Albus and get the Headmaster to change the service. He couldn’t break the Oath, after all. Severus settled back in the bed and tried to sleep, but the image of Hermione throwing off her robes and rubbing against him kept returning, and in response his cock kept throbbing. This was awful. When he got out of this, he swore he would slip the witch a potion that would put warts all over her private parts for a week. That ought to tame her, by Merlin. He fell asleep scowling.

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Hermione had flooed Madam Hooch and told her that Saturday night would be the night, and Hooch flooed, McGonagal, who flooed Pomfrey, who flooed Sprout. By morning all the witches had got together excitedly in the staff room before breakfast and worked themselves up to a feeding frenzy. When they walked into the Great Hall en masse, Severus was already there, picking at his pancakes. They slowly walked by him, leering smiles plastered on their faces.

“Good morning, Severus,” they sang, one after the other as they passed by him, Madam Hooch having the audacity to trail a finger over his shoulders as she walked to her seat. He scowled at her blackly. The women kept looking down the table at him and he was distinctly uncomfortable. What were the old birds up to? Then Hermione walked in and he knew immediately. The Spells Mistress walked by him with a quick greeting as she usually did. No knowing glances or subtle gloating. It was only when she passed the witches that he knew every single one of those cackling hens knew Hermione meant to fuck him tonight. They all were patting her on the back, and the witch was grinning wickedly, even though it seemed she were making an effort not to. Her amber eyes flicked over to him, and he saw the heat there for a moment, before she looked back down at her plate and ordered her breakfast.

Albus was sitting at the head of the table, eating French toast and chatting with Flitwick. He met Severus’ eyes, and waved at him. Severus lifted one pale hand in a weak return greeting. He hoped the Headmaster had a minute to talk to him, and would help him sort it out.

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Severus sat in the Headmaster’s office and explained his situation with Hermione to Albus, who sat quietly listening, his hands folded on his desk and a sober expression on his face. Severus thought the sober expression was good. It meant the Headmaster was listening to him. After raging a bit about how if Hermione were a wizard and he were a witch, this would be considered an outrage, he fell silent, waiting for the Headmaster’s response.

Albus removed his glasses, took out a bit of tissue and wiped them slowly.

“Amazing,” he said as he placed them back on his long crooked nose, and leveled his blue eyes at Severus. The twinkle had returned.

“So, Miss Granger has arranged it so you will have to perform sexual favors for her tonight, bound by a Wizard’s Oath of Service,” he stated to be sure he had the gist of it.

“Exactly,” Severus replied.

“And why do you suppose Miss Granger went through all of this trouble to have sex with you?” Albus asked him.

“To pollute me,” Severus replied, “To take away my self-imposed virginity. It’s a power thing. She wants revenge for deflowered women everywhere.”

Albus chuckled for a moment, then sobered.

“Severus, why do you deny yourself pleasure? It is not only sex, but everything you do is tedious and dry. You keep yourself locked up in that dungeon shunning the company of others, teaching class, getting drunk and brewing potions. That’s it. That’s no life for a wizard, especially one who has sacrificed as much as you have to save the wizarding world. You deserve some reward, some happiness.,” Albus said persuasively.

“I am happy,” Snape said, “I’m doing just what I want to do. On my own. Alone.”

“Severus,” Albus said, not unkindly, “You have no idea how pleasurable spending time with a willing witch is. It’s just…marvelous!” The Headmaster’s eyes twinkled with more than a little heat at the thought. “Men were made to indulge themselves with the fairer sex Surely you’ve had some reaction to them over the years.”

“Of course I have, Headmaster. I’m celibate, not dead,” the Potions Master spat. “But just because I react to them doesn’t mean I want their ankles wrapped around my neck.”

Albus looked at him a moment, then straightened.

“I’m sorry Severus, but this is a purely personal matter in which I cannot get involved. You are both the age of consent and will have to work it out between you,” he said.

“Albus, you interfere in personal matters all the time!” Severus said, frowning at the Headmaster. He was all for this. The Potions Master could tell.

“Not this time,” Albus said with finality.

“But…but…Albus!” Snape said, trying to still enlist the Headmaster’s aid.

“I have made my decision, Severus. You. Are. On. Your. Own.” Albus said, tapping his desk with one long finger at every word. Then he offered the dark wizard a lemon drop.

“No thank you,” Severus seethed, rising from the chair and heading for the floo.

He turned to the Headmaster just before he stepped through.

“Thanks for nothing, Albus,” he said coldly, and stepped through the flames stiffly.

“You’re very welcome, my boy,” Albus replied chuckling. Severus would be fine, he was sure. Albus shook his head. That Hermione Granger. She was a real piece of work.

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Severus returned to his study via the floo and began immediately pacing as he silently called Albus every unsavory name under the sun. The randy old coot! He was as much for him losing his virginity as Hermione was. It was a fucking conspiracy. Just because he chose not to dip his wick, he shouldn’t be forced to perform.

Hm. Forced to perform. A slow smile crossed the Potions Master’s face. He knew how to insure no performance. He had did it for years when he was in service to the Dark Lord.

Impotence Potion.

When Hermione showed up, she’d get quite a flaccid little surprise.

Snape headed quickly for his potions stores. He unwarded the door, lit the torch and peered at the shelves. Ah, there it was. One of the strongest impotence potions in existence. He reached for it, but found his hand would not move. He tried again, straining to pick up the bottle. He couldn’t get within a foot of it. There was a bottle of healing draught next to it. Severus tried to pick that up, and did so easily.

Shit. The Oath of Service wasn’t going to let him drink the potion. Damn it.

Severus tried once more using all his strength, straining every muscle in his body to reach the bottle of impotence potion. He collapsed, panting. This was so fucked up.

Scowling, he left his potions stores, returned to his study and poured himself a firewhiskey. It was early in the day, but he needed it. And the next one, and the one after that. The Professor really tied one on, drinking shot after shot of the strong liquor, and by the afternoon he was sound asleep in the armchair, close to a drunken stupor. He really wasn’t taking his upcoming deflowerment very well.

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Hermione showered and dressed in a long, silk nightgown and pulled her robes over it. It was time to go see Severus. She grabbed her wand and exited her room. Her belly was churning with apprehension mixed with desire. She felt a little lecherous, but not enough to call the whole thing off. The Potions Master was just too delicious to let off the hook. She knocked on the Potions office door. No one answered. She knocked again harder. Still no answer.

“Oh no he doesn’t,” Hermione breathed under her breath, pulling out her wand. She flicked it at the door, which was usually strongly warded. But the Oath of Service was in effect and the ward dropped immediately.

“Alohamora,” she said, unlocking the door and pushing it open, scowling.

She walked over to the wall that led to Severus’ study. She had never seen how he opened the wall, so began pulling and pushing on books, stones and torches to no avail.

“Severus? Severus! You open this wall right now you coward!” she called through the wall, banging on it in a temper. Still no answer. She pointed her wand at the wall. Maybe it would work.

“Alohamora,” she breathed. Sure enough, the wall slid up. Hermione stalked through, her eyes narrowed.

“Severus Snape, you and your cherry get out here right now!” she called. There was no response. Then she noticed the room smelled strongly of firewhiskey. She walked toward the fireplace and looked to see Severus slumped in the chair, snoring loudly, an empty bottle of firewhiskey and a half-filled glass on the table next to him. By the smell, he had consumed the whole bottle. Hermione looked at him, and had a little twinge of sympathy. But then she let her eyes rake over his long lean body, and every bit of sympathy fled. She was horny as hell and wasn’t going to let a little drunkenness stop the show.

Knowing that the Oath of Service would facilitate any action pertaining to the successful conclusion of the required service, Hermione used her wand to gain access to Severus’ potions stores and gathered a bottle of sober-up potion as well as a bottle of replenishing potion and stamina potion, just in case, then returned to Severus’ study. She shook the Potions Master, but he didn’t respond. She pointed her wand at him.

“Ennervate!” she said. The Potions Master roused.

He opened one bloodshot eye and looked up at her.

“So you’re here to ruin me,” he said blearily, putting one pale hand to his head. It felt like it weighed a ton.

“That’s pretty much it,” Hermione grinned at him wickedly, “ I see you tried to find comfort in the bottom of a bottle. Didn’t work too well did it?”

“I was actually trying to commit suicide,” he replied, “death by firewhiskey.”

“Aw Severus, it’s not going to be that bad,” Hermione said, walking closer to the Potions Master, “If you just accept what’s going to happen, you might find you like it quite a bit.’

“I’m being forced to fuck you, Hermione. What in the world is there to like about that?” he groaned, accepting the bottle of sober-up potion she held out to him, opening it and swallowing it down. His head cleared immediately, then his stomach growled loudly. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He looked up at Hermione.

“Can I at least eat something first? Every condemned man is entitled to a last meal,” he griped.

Hermione fought back her laughter. She had no idea Severus was such a drama king.

“Sure,” she replied, “How does two dozen oysters sound?”

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A/N: Well, Severus tried Albus, impotence potion, looks like he’s stuck, (or will be). Hermione is a trip. Oysters. Lol. Poor Sev. Next chapter ought to be interesting. Please review.