To Covet and Consume
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
16
Views:
17,605
Reviews:
87
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
16
Views:
17,605
Reviews:
87
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.
An Agreement
I approach Miss Granger eagerly. Flashes of her naked skin and sensual moans flood my memory. I then shake my mind into place and mentally thank Madam Pince for providing me with the perfect cover story to approach my pet. At this moment I could not care less about the volume Granger is reading. I only crave to be near her. For appearances, of course, I make quite sure I look like a hippogriff that has been offended. This has the desired effect; any other student that was in a 10 foot radius of Miss Granger has taken off to other ends of the library. We are alone.
“I have been waiting for that to arrive.” I say smoothly in her right ear as I lightly sniff the air around her. She smells of cranberry and orange, the scent is intoxicating. This is not what she smelled like in the night, though that scent was exquisite too. Her daily scent must be a perfume or lotion, perhaps hair products. My approach from behind was of course to surprise my little witch, and surprised she is. She spins in her seat to face me.
“Professor, you startled me.” Her innocent eyes meet mine. I let her comment glide past me. I will not apologize since startling her was my intent. I walk around her, allowing my hand the freedom to slither against the back of her chair, and therefore her back. I then choose a seat directly across from her, only a narrow oak table between us. I glance at her bare forearms, the skin has risen into delicate bumps. It seems my touch did not go unnoticed.
“Are you done with Pomentes’ latest volume?” I ask keeping my eyes locked on hers.
“No, sir, actually I have just begun.” Her skin tints a most appealing shade of red under my stare. I want to lean forward and caress it to learn if her skin is as hot as it looks. “Sir, I can deliver it directly to you after I am finished?”
“That will not do.” I continue to make her falter under my stare.
“But sir…” She looks slightly offended as she clutches the latest volume, and brings it closer to her chest.
“I wish to read it now, before you mutilate the pages.” This comment heightens the shade of red in her cheeks as her brows fall forward in defiance.
“I assure you sir,” she starts indignantly, “that I treat all reading and research material with the respect it deserves; whether it be the library’s or my own.”
I smirk inwardly at the fire she dares show me. “I am not willing to take the risk that you respectful standards aren’t as high as my own.”
She actually glares at me. “How dare you!”
I want to laugh but I return the glare instead as I say sarcastically, “Would it change that little know-it-all mind of yours if I were to say ‘Please’?”
Her glare darkens, which in turn sends a set of bitter sweet tingles to every nerve ending in my body. I must be one sick bastard because my loins even stir.
I can’t help but stoke the fire more by continuing, “How about I add a ‘Thank you’ as well as the ‘Please’?”
“Sarcasm and intimidation will not get you the journal sir. I know Madam Pince will back me up in saying first come first read. I intend to take my time with this particular volume. I might take the whole week I am allowed on new releases. It is in my right as Head Girl of the school.” She smiles smugly.
The little chit!
I fight the urge to snog that cocky smile right off her attractive flushed face. I calm myself enough to keep my voice low and smooth. “You are quite right. You could read it first, and you could take the full week to return it, but you won’t.”
She arches one brow as if to ask why.
“I have a proposition for you.”
I have peaked her curiosity. “Oh, really?”
“Yes.” I say plainly. My eyes remain on hers, both of us unblinking. Finally I continue, “Would you be interested in hearing it?”
She hesitates for only a moment then nods. “Yes Sir.”
“I am looking for a potions assistant.” I allow the comment to hang in the air between us for a second. “This person will be needed daily; 2 hours minimum on weekdays and a total of 10 hours put in on the weekend, whether it is all on Sunday or split over Saturday and Sunday I do not care, as long as I approve it. Weekday tasks will include cleaning the lab, preparing potions for the infirmary, and prepping for my next day’s classes. The weekend will be a chance to learn something new and work with a Master. Becoming an assistant is a large rung to climb in the ladder to becoming a Potion Master’s Apprentice. I do not take on apprentices myself, but I have been known to write letters of recommendation to other Masters.” Her entrancing eyes have both gone glossy with educational greed. Passersby might assume the look on her face to be one of lust, but I know better. “My initial plan was to ask Mr. Malfoy,” The glossiness is gone. “But it is common knowledge that your marks are superior to Malfoy’s. My proposition is this: in exchange for that journal and all others that you may get your greedy Gryffindor paws on first, I wish to offer you the position as my Assistant.”
The smile she graces me with could illuminate the library for days to come, of course I do not show the pleasure I gain from it. She places the journal on the table top and pushes it gently across the smooth surface towards me. “When do I start?”
“I have been waiting for that to arrive.” I say smoothly in her right ear as I lightly sniff the air around her. She smells of cranberry and orange, the scent is intoxicating. This is not what she smelled like in the night, though that scent was exquisite too. Her daily scent must be a perfume or lotion, perhaps hair products. My approach from behind was of course to surprise my little witch, and surprised she is. She spins in her seat to face me.
“Professor, you startled me.” Her innocent eyes meet mine. I let her comment glide past me. I will not apologize since startling her was my intent. I walk around her, allowing my hand the freedom to slither against the back of her chair, and therefore her back. I then choose a seat directly across from her, only a narrow oak table between us. I glance at her bare forearms, the skin has risen into delicate bumps. It seems my touch did not go unnoticed.
“Are you done with Pomentes’ latest volume?” I ask keeping my eyes locked on hers.
“No, sir, actually I have just begun.” Her skin tints a most appealing shade of red under my stare. I want to lean forward and caress it to learn if her skin is as hot as it looks. “Sir, I can deliver it directly to you after I am finished?”
“That will not do.” I continue to make her falter under my stare.
“But sir…” She looks slightly offended as she clutches the latest volume, and brings it closer to her chest.
“I wish to read it now, before you mutilate the pages.” This comment heightens the shade of red in her cheeks as her brows fall forward in defiance.
“I assure you sir,” she starts indignantly, “that I treat all reading and research material with the respect it deserves; whether it be the library’s or my own.”
I smirk inwardly at the fire she dares show me. “I am not willing to take the risk that you respectful standards aren’t as high as my own.”
She actually glares at me. “How dare you!”
I want to laugh but I return the glare instead as I say sarcastically, “Would it change that little know-it-all mind of yours if I were to say ‘Please’?”
Her glare darkens, which in turn sends a set of bitter sweet tingles to every nerve ending in my body. I must be one sick bastard because my loins even stir.
I can’t help but stoke the fire more by continuing, “How about I add a ‘Thank you’ as well as the ‘Please’?”
“Sarcasm and intimidation will not get you the journal sir. I know Madam Pince will back me up in saying first come first read. I intend to take my time with this particular volume. I might take the whole week I am allowed on new releases. It is in my right as Head Girl of the school.” She smiles smugly.
The little chit!
I fight the urge to snog that cocky smile right off her attractive flushed face. I calm myself enough to keep my voice low and smooth. “You are quite right. You could read it first, and you could take the full week to return it, but you won’t.”
She arches one brow as if to ask why.
“I have a proposition for you.”
I have peaked her curiosity. “Oh, really?”
“Yes.” I say plainly. My eyes remain on hers, both of us unblinking. Finally I continue, “Would you be interested in hearing it?”
She hesitates for only a moment then nods. “Yes Sir.”
“I am looking for a potions assistant.” I allow the comment to hang in the air between us for a second. “This person will be needed daily; 2 hours minimum on weekdays and a total of 10 hours put in on the weekend, whether it is all on Sunday or split over Saturday and Sunday I do not care, as long as I approve it. Weekday tasks will include cleaning the lab, preparing potions for the infirmary, and prepping for my next day’s classes. The weekend will be a chance to learn something new and work with a Master. Becoming an assistant is a large rung to climb in the ladder to becoming a Potion Master’s Apprentice. I do not take on apprentices myself, but I have been known to write letters of recommendation to other Masters.” Her entrancing eyes have both gone glossy with educational greed. Passersby might assume the look on her face to be one of lust, but I know better. “My initial plan was to ask Mr. Malfoy,” The glossiness is gone. “But it is common knowledge that your marks are superior to Malfoy’s. My proposition is this: in exchange for that journal and all others that you may get your greedy Gryffindor paws on first, I wish to offer you the position as my Assistant.”
The smile she graces me with could illuminate the library for days to come, of course I do not show the pleasure I gain from it. She places the journal on the table top and pushes it gently across the smooth surface towards me. “When do I start?”