An Unlikely Savior ~ (Edit) COMPLETED

Chapter 5 ~ Completion

To say the act that occurred between the enchanted witch and wizard was tender would have been erroneous. It was animal, passionate and brutal, but hardly tender. The moment Snape was drawn into the bower, his lips crashed against Hermione’s with all the power of an erupting volcano, the wizard claiming her mouth as he tore the gossamer gown from her body, Hermione arching against him, lost in lust as he ripped the delicate fabric into shreds, his hands gripping her tightly as he spun her and bent her, tearing away his loincloth and entering her roughly with a growl, wrapping his arms around her belly as she cried out to the night sky and driving into her with animalistic hunger, his skins draped over both of their bodies.

Bathed in moonlight, the couple copulated much like animals, Hermione crying out her pleasure, for indeed, it was a primal pleasure she experienced as the wizard hunched into her, driving as deep and hard as he could, the blood of her maidenhead on his loins, the scent of it driving him to a frenzy, bucking, thrusting and pulling her back into his stroke, his lips drawn back from his teeth, his eyes crazed as he buried himself in her over and over, claiming her, his loins slapping against her buttocks, reddening them in the process.

This wasn’t cruelty, or purposeful brutality. It was the Act, the Consummation, the Joining, and both witch and wizard gave themselves over to their baser natures, grunting, howling, and hissing their way toward release, sweat pouring off Snape’s body and over Hermione’s bent, bouncing form. There were no words of passion, no murmured obscenities. Their tongues were tied . . . only their bodies spoke the age old language of the ultimate connection, straining, reaching, soaring as Snape pummeled the witch before him, his cock like iron, pounding through her softness, his lower lip caught between his teeth now as Hermione helplessly jerked, her arms covering his, wrapped around her belly also, her mouth slack with ache, lust and a kind of perverse gratification as he hit bottom over and over, the sting as sweet as it was powerful.

She felt the sensation of tightening inside her and let out a shriek as she exploded over him, feeling him respond with a barrage of desperate strokes as he, too, pitched over the edge, ramming deep inside the witch and letting go, filling her with his seed, his loins pressed tight against her buttocks as if to seal her off, not letting any of his release escape as he shuddered against her back, his arms locked around her waist.

They stood this way for a full three minutes before Snape withdrew, staggering back and nearly falling to his knees as Hermione did drop to hers, unaware of the glow forming around her.


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”Your debt to me is paid in full, Miss Granger,” Severus Snape said to Hermione, who was sitting on a Slytherin green sofa in his private quarters. She was just waking up and felt groggy. She brought her hand to her head. The last thing she remembered was drinking a potion in the forest after him.

”What time is it?” she asked him.

”Early afternoon. You’ve slept through part of the day,” the dark wizard replied. “Now, it is time for you to go.”

Hermione felt a sting between her legs as she shifted, then looked at him.

”You shagged me,” she said to him.

Snape nodded.

”It was necessary,” he said shortly.

Hermione stared at him. Well, he had said he wanted something precious from her. In the back of her mind, she figured it was her virginity. But at least she thought she’d remember it.

”If that was all you wanted, why all the elaborations? We could have done that anywhere,” she said to him, not knowing how to feel.

”The location was also necessary. I hope the loss of your virginity will not ruin your future plans with . . .”

Here, a slight look of distaste appeared on the Potions master’s face.

”Mr. Weasley,” he finished.

”I don’t think it will,” Hermione replied, feeling strange as she looked upon the cold, dark wizard. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to be with him. Probably very passionless and clinical. Suddenly, she was glad she didn’t remember the actual act. It probably would have put her off of sex forever.

”Good. You are free to go,” Snape said, walking over to the wall and pulling on a torch. A section slid up, opening on to his office. He gestured at her.

”The way is clear,” he told the witch. “You are free now.”

Hermione stood up. A part of her wanted to know why she didn’t remember the act, but she decided that he had done that purposely. Maybe to spare her the memory, but more than likely to hide his true purposes.

”Am I? Are you sure I’m not pregnant?” she asked him.

”No, you are not, Miss Granger. I took . . . precautions to make sure you would not carry my child. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a life to live.”

Hermione scowled at him, and stalked through the wall.

”So do I!” she snapped back, angry at his cold dismissal. Snape walked past her and opened the door that led to the dungeon corridor.

”Live it well, Miss Granger,” he purred.

With that, Hermione Granger walked out of his office and out of his life.

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Nineteen years later, Hermione and Ron stood on the platform at King’s Cross watching their youngest son Hugo climb aboard the Hogwarts Express to start his first year at Hogwarts. His sister Rose was in her third year and already warning him not to act like a git and embarrass her.

As she stood there, Hermione was surprised to see the tall, pale form of the former professor Snape walking on the platform with a young woman of about fifteen years of age. She was rather tall, had dark brown curly hair and dark brown eyes. She was dressed in black robes and unsmiling. A rather dark aura exuded from her as she walked by her father’s side.

Hermione nudged Ron.

”Is that Snape’s daughter?” she asked him.

Ron looked over.

”Yeah. I think she’s in her fifth year,” Ron said.

He worked at the Ministry and got all the dirt on everyone. Hermione didn’t know about Snape because she never asked about him. All she knew was he left Hogwarts to marry about five years after she fulfilled her debt to him. Rumor had it, he married a Muggle woman.

”He married a Muggle,” Ron said, “and left the wizarding world for a while. Then, they divorced about three years later, and he took his daughter with him. He’s an apothecary now.”

Hermione watched as Snape escorted his offspring to the train solicitously, and was surprised when the apparently cold young woman kissed his cheek and smiled at him warmly as he lifted an eyebrow at her and nodded. Then she boarded the train.

Snape turned and saw Hermione looking at him. The wizard arched an eyebrow at her as well, nodded slightly, then strode off, not waiting for the train to depart as other parents did. Hermione looked after him for a moment, then was distracted by Hugo calling to her. When she looked back, he was gone.

Obviously, he had lived his life just as he planned. But Snape with a daughter . . . or a child at all? It was . . . amazing. He never seemed to be the fatherly type, but it was clear there was affection between him and his offspring.

Well, he did deserve some happiness after all. Apparently, he’d found a happy medium. And deep down inside, Hermione was happy for him. He’d done so much for the wizarding world, and . . . if not for him, she wouldn’t be here. Long life to him.

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Severus Snape had indeed courted and married a Muggle woman, who was completely swept away by his archaic approach to courtship. He never once touched her, or was forward with her. He simply called on her, took her out, wined and dined her and returned her to her home untouched, refusing to do so because it was “unseemly.” The woman’s name was Delores Puckish, and she was a rather plain woman, not used to being wined and dined, but overlooked. Snape was no handsome man, but he was dignified and . . . she discovered . . . a wizard. She couldn’t help but be swept away by him, and when he proposed marriage, she accepted.

Unfortunately, Snape was just as cold and undemonstrative as a husband as when he was a suitor. He only touched her once, on their wedding night, and it had been a strange encounter, with Delores losing touch with what was happening and unable to remember having sex with her husband. But something must have happened, because she became pregnant. She had her daughter nine months from her wedding night.

When she complained to Snape about his lack of affection, he told her she’d known he wasn’t demonstrative when she married him. In fact, after she had his daughter, he was completely dismissive of her and after two years of his coldness, she asked him for a divorce. She had found a lover. He wasn’t very handsome either, but at least he appreciated her as a woman. And she believed she loved the man.

”Certainly,” Snape had responded. “I wondered when you’d ask me for one, considering you’ve been playing mattress tag with your butcher lover for the past year. It’s fine with me, but you will not be taking our daughter. She’s a witch and will be raised as one.”

Delores had no problem with that. For some reason, she never seemed to bond with her baby daughter. From the very beginning it was as if Snape was the only one who could calm the child, and he was the one she cried for in the middle of the night. And he doted on her, openly showing her affection, which made Delores jealous and short with the child. From the moment she made the mobile over her crib spin like a whirling dervish, Delores was a bit afraid of her. Let him have her.

And Snape took her, returned to the wizarding world proper and home schooled her. She was a quick study and quite brilliant. She challenged him over everything, just as he had hoped. She currently had the highest marks at Hogwarts, running neck in neck with Hermione’s grades when she attended.

The girl intended to beat them.

She was in Slytherin, of course, and was just as brooding and snarky as she was brilliant. She put no truck in fools, and was fast with a wand. Very fast, and very sneaky. She usually got away with quite a bit because she thought before she acted.

Now, she sat on the train, reading over her books for the seventh or eighth time since purchasing them. She was an avid reader, and held on to facts and figures with all the tenacity of a dragon.

There was a commotion and suddenly the door slid open. A redheaded first year boy with freckles, and an older, auburn-haired witch in Gryffindor colors stared in at her.

”Is this compartment occupied?” Rose Weasley asked her.

The girl’s face contorted.

”I wouldn’t be in here if it wasn’t,” she snapped back at her. “Don’t you have eyes? Gryffindors.”

She pointedly returned to her book as Rose and Hugo stared at her.

”Come on, Hugo,” Rose said coldly. “Let’s find another compartment with better company.”

”Do that,” the girl said, not looking up from her book.

Rose slammed the compartment door, and the girl promptly warded the door to stop other idiots from intruding on her solitude. She’d have enough of them to deal with once she got to Hogwarts.

”Weasleys,” she snorted distastefully, well aware of who the intruders were.

With that, Eileen Hermione Snape, continued reading undisturbed until she made it to the castle proper, a place where dunderheads abounded.

THE END

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A/N: And that’s that. I know, I know . . . I left a lot of unanswered questions or maybe even an interesting storyline behind. But I just wanted to do a short piece, where Severus and Hermione didn’t become lovers. It was interesting. In case you didn't understand what the ingredient was, it was a human egg, in this case, a fertilized one, not virgin blood. :)) Prepared properly in a potion, it would produce a child in a surrogate mother. Thanks for reading.