Perverted Potions

Thanks Sureves Epans (hope you read the rest of it =]), sheherazade (damn straight he's hot), catysmom, Darque Hart (WAY ahead of ya ;), rofl), acidqueen (yes, milady! *curtsies*), Clare1984, redneckmama, onyx1985, Sarah Macdonald, Lady Tuesday, Glade (they tell me I'm always full of surprises), Uramuohsses, hot_indigo (I groan that all the time), DB1, EgyptianGoddess, BlackAsuka (this review made me L o L), cyprus (totally), MorningStar!!!!! Wahoooo this chapter is gonna kill y'all....

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Chapter 7: The Switcheroo


Hermione plopped down in a chair beside Harry in the Common room; Ron fell asleep while doing his Potions essay. There was a distinct pool of dribble at one of the paper’s corner. Harry shot a few wary glances at her before he closed his Transfigurations book. She looked like she was about to blow a gasket. He pursed his lips and waited silently, listening to the crackling of the fire. Hermione just sat there, staring straight ahead shooting daggers with her eyes. He twiddled his thumbs and hummed quietly. His mind strayed, Is that a bogey on my boo –

“ARGH!” Hermione finally broke the silence, startling Harry and waking Ron from his slumber. “Bezoars roam the safari hunted by snor…” he mumbled before drifting back to sleep. Hermione continued unaware of Ron’s sleepy outburst and Harry stifling his laughter.

“He just makes me so… so… So infuriated!” Hermione huffed. Harry noticed her cheeks were a blotchy red.

“You all right there, ‘Mione?”

“I just want to smack him up the head sometimes!”
Fortunately for her, she already did, but she doesn’t know that.

“I’m guessing you mean Snape. He’s not making you do another report, is he?” Harry asked anxiously. I don’t know if I can handle watching Filch do that again, he shuddered.

“No, no. He’s just, well,” Hermione needed to tread lightly around the subject of Sex-Ed and Snape, “unpleasant as always. Bit of a handful by myself.” She smiled nervously.

“Well, if you’re just now finding out that he’s a greasy git, ‘Mione, then I’d say you’re a genius with one thick skull.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she rose from her seat and took a peep at Ron’s essay. “I suggest you wake up Ron and tell him he’s writing a paper for Potions and not Care for Magical Creatures.” She yawned and walked slowly to her room, dreading the dreams that would follow.

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Halloween was upon Hogwarts before anyone could say “Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes Win with Whizzing Whithery Wasps!”

Albus walked around merrily about the Great Hall, watching his students thrive and pulse with The Weird Sisters lively music. This ball was certainly a good idea; the students were so happy. He caught a few (many, actually) couples huddled in a corner kissing passionately. He would stalk up to them silently and surprise them with his cheerful voice and twinkling eyes, “Be sure to stop by Poppy’s if this progresses to the floor! Remember: Be Safe!” then scurried away leaving the couple horrified.

Albus made his way over to the fruit punch and noticed his Potions Master, staring intently at Hermione Granger, who was currently dancing quite vivaciously in her Nurse costume. He glanced between the two for quite some time before clearing his throat and helping himself to some punch.

Snape glanced to his side and muttered in acknowledgment, “Headmaster.”

“Severus, how are you?” Albus asked before taking a sip of the tasty punch.

“Just dandy. Having to watch dunderheads make even more of an idiot of themselves has become the highlight of my night. It almost gives me as much joy as receiving the Cruciatus curse. All that writhing about on the floor, yes, I call that my ‘Happy’ dance,” Severus droned, still staring at Hermione. He was nearly knocked off his feet when he was ambushed with a pat on the back from Albus, who laughing heartily.

“Still the jokester!” He wiped at his eye, “Ah, speaking of dances, how is it going teaching the ‘Horizontal Dance’ to Miss Granger, our little pioneer of education.”

Snape glanced uncertainly at Albus before responding with, “Other than the occasional cheek, she is learning rather quickly. And doesn’t mind getting her hands dirty,” oh, not one bit. She actually prefers to lick them clean. “… with the potions of course, some require very intricate ‘handiwork’.” Bless those hands.

Snape then realized that Hermione was looking back at him from between Potter and Weasley. He coughed and turned abruptly to pour himself some punch. Albus peered over his half-moon spectacles at Snape. Hmm, I wonder…

“So how old is Miss Granger?” Albus innocently asked.

Snape swallowed down his punch in one gulp, “Granger? Well, she told me she came of age last August.”

“Then I suppose that puts her on out the market then, doesn’t it?” Albus jovially walked away, his insinuating words still ringing in Snape’s ears.

He stared after the Headmaster as his thoughts flooded his mind.

Does he know?

Does he know what we’ve done?

Wait a second, was he giving me permission?

Or perhaps encouraging me?

Damn you, Albus. Damn you to hell and I hope they tear out your twinkling eyes and skull fuck you.

He turned round to the punch bowl to pour himself some more, only to be obstructed by a figure clad in white with unruly chestnut hair.

“Hello, Professor,” Hermione said, who was holding out a cup of punch for him.

Snape nodded curtly as he took the drink and watched her pour one for herself. He drank in the sight of her curved figure along with the punch. The costume left little to the imagination, seeing how she was busting out at all the right places. The white knee-high stockings and red-hot pumps seemed to be the cherry on top that completed Hermione’s delectably fiendish outfit. Snape licked his lips ever so slightly.

Hermione turned to face the circle of frenzied students. “And what are you supposed to be sir, a Bat?”

He scowled, “No, I am wearing what I always wear.”

“Hmm, it must be the light.”

“Then you must be as blind as a bat,” he muttered.

“Oh, come now, Professor,” she put the emphasis on ‘come’, before lightly placing her hand upon his forearm. Snape quirked an eyebrow.

“That’s what the dummy is for, Miss Granger,” Snape retorted, smirking slightly.

“Oh, yes. Is your Moaning Marionette gathering dust or have you pulled it out to give it the ol’ Wax on,” she did a wide sweeping gesture with her right palm, “Wax off?” again with her left.

“You mean, my Fidgeting Figurine who has the tendencies of a rapist?” Snape shot back with raised eyebrows.

Hermione and Snape stared at each other for the longest time until she couldn’t stand it anymore and threw back her head and laughed. Snape smiled and chuckled low so that only she could hear him. Apparently, their class together had become an inside joke between them. How odd.

Hermione fanned her face, “I’m sorry,” she giggled, “I just can’t believe I was able to keep a straight face for that long. While making such,” she lowered her voice to a whisper leaning closer to him, “such lewd jokes with you.”

He followed her movements and said, “Then I guess you will have to continue and see how far you can go while keeping a straight face. It’s a good thing you’re taking my class, you’re learning from the Master.” He gave her a rather fiendish grin, which she blushed at. “I believe my shift monitoring the ghoulish festivities has come to end, good evening, Miss Granger.” He bowed elaborately. Hermione curtsied in return.

“Oh, and Miss Granger? Just as a warning to you; there will be no curtains next class.” With a turn and a billow of his robes, he left Hermione gaping after him with all sorts of thoughts running through her head.

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Over the weekend, Hermione had a horrible recurring nightmare. She was chased about the Potions classroom by the disgustingly yellow sponge doll. While it was in its male aspect, it wore a face: Snape’s, then it melted away into Filch’s. After thinking it over, Hermione wished she didn’t think of Filch so much when trying to keep her urges in check; she didn’t know he would be plaguing her dreams. Perhaps it’s her unconscious working in overdrive.

Hermione paced the corridor outside the Potions classroom debating with herself if she should go to her Sex-Ed class today. Is the class really worth it? I just don’t want to be man-handled by a dummy again… What is Snape playing at with ‘no curtains’? I don’t know, I don’t know.

She paused her pacing and stared at the door, biting her lip raw. She thought back to when the dummy was forcing his sex into her mouth and Snape watched. He looked so intrigued by the act, by her. I don’t care anymore, she thought. She opened the door; the creak, of course, always gave her away.

“Hello, Professor.”

“Miss Granger, you’re late,” Snape barked. 7:03, oh no it's the end of the world. If only I had gotten to your 'Strategy to Seduce Students' class 3 minutes earlier!, Hermione thought sardonically to herself.

“I hope you were not having second thoughts?”

“’Course not, sir. Wouldn’t miss this class for anything,” Hermione replied with fake enthusiasm. Snape sneered at her, before setting wards on the door.

“If you would sit here, Miss Granger,” he pulled out the chair closest to the edge of the table to the side of the dummy, which was in its female form. “You will be observing today.” Hermione took the seat as if it was nothing new, hiding her discomfort.

“Just what will I’ll be ‘observing’, Professor?”

“Cunnilingus,” he bit back a smirk.

Hermione’s mouth dropped open. She heard about cunnilingus, as well as fellatio, from Lavender (the girl knew enough about sex, why she was pestering Hermione, no one knew). Realizing she must look like an idiot with her mouth gaping open, she closed it and shifted in her seat.

“Well, by all means, Professor. Be my guest,” she nodded towards the doll. “Oh, one question. Why a – a doll?”

Snape snorted, “I thought you would have understood the concept of the doll long ago. Since sexual acts are rather personal ones, with the doll, no boundaries are broken.”

Yes, no boundaries. Just a barrier: Yours and soon, he thought.

He cleared his throat, “Are we ready to begin?” Hermione nodded, although doubtful that she’d learn anything.

He knelt down and sat on his heels between the legs of the doll and gently pushed them aside, revealing the sponge vagina. Hermione noticed that Snape looked completely calm as if he were handling an extremely fragile potion; he even brushed away a few of his somewhat greasy-looking locks from his face and tucked them behind his ears.

He must mean business then, Hermione snorted to herself. I wonder what will reach first: his nose or his – OH! Hermione jumped in her seat after feeling a warm sensation touch her more – private – areas.

Snape’s head bobbed up from his spongy confines, “Everything all right, Miss Granger?” Hermione, who was now covering her mouth and her eyes nearly popped out of her sockets, cleared her throat and nodded to him. Snape bit back a smirk; nothing was all right. When he warded the door, he cast the charm that would let Hermione feel exactly what the doll received from him, before he directed to her seat.

Let the games begin. Snape set back to the vagina before him. He kissed the nether lips, lingering on them at times before rubbing his long, sculpted nose along the entrance, causing the doll to tremble. Oh yes, he put the moving charm back on the doll. He wanted Hermione to have to watch the doll squirm, while she knew she couldn’t, lest he should find out she was ‘excited’.

Hermione sat stiffly in the chair in a position much like the first day of Sex-Ed. She grasped the sides of the seat, her nails digging into the wood; however, her legs (this time) were closed shut and her feet twined together. She just couldn’t comprehend how she was feeling this slick sensation over her loins. I’m overly randy, that’s it. I’m just imagining things. She bit her lip.

Snape’s tongue ran up and down the slit of the quivering sheath, preparing it for the invasion of his lengthy tongue. Resting his nose on the clitoral hood, he inserted his tongue, darting it in, out, in, out, rapidly; stopping occasionally to stroke the entrance. At that point, the doll had wrapped its legs around the Professor’s neck, beckoning him to go further.

Snape stole glances at Hermione to check the state she was in; currently, she looked as if she had passed out. Her head was leaning over to one side slightly, her eyes half-lidded and her mouth parted open. The fact that she was responding so well to his ministrations, albeit through a dummy, he wasn’t surprised in the slightest when he felt himself harden.

Hermione’s mind was riddled with thoughts yelling at her to wake up from this catatonic-like state she was in; others were encouraging her to moan, and the more bold ones were telling her to kick the table away and take Snape’s mouth with her own. The warmth had taken over her abdomen and a painful, yet enjoyable throbbing sat between her thighs, begging to be released.

The doll had now immersed its hands into Snape’s hair; its fingers weaved and tangled itself into his raven locks. Its hip rocked against the ministrations of his tongue and his unusually long, but pleasurable nose. Snape looked calm, cool, and collected as ever. Just with a doll humping his face.

Hermione couldn’t take it anymore, she felt as if she were going to blow up and possibly not be able to walk away from class with just the help of herself, all ever since Snape – Oh gods. He’s doing this. Why didn’t I think of this earlier? Hermione thought.

Probably because you were overrun with pleasure, still are, and you better not stop this, Hermione’s randy thoughts shot back.

You better watch who you’re talking to or else I’ll sic Filch on you, her more coherent thoughts yelled back. The randy thoughts cowered away in a corner.

I’ve got to stop this. I just, I just can’t allow it. An idea popped into Hermione’s head. You must have used this spell, whatever you have on me, Snape, and used it on yourself last lesson. That explains how you knew I bit it, you bastard! She subtly put her left hand on one of the doll’s arms. Severus Snape, you’re in for a mouthful. She whispered, “Male.”

Snape had this unusual sensation that there was no longer flesh surrounding his tongue, but rather his mouth surrounding growing flesh. The rocking movements had now become thrusts, which caused Snape to open his eyes. He began to gag as he realized the doll was fucking his face with a fully erect penis.

Hermione covered her mouth as she shrieked with laughter as Snape’s screams were muffled by the doll’s forceful and fierce thrusts. The doll’s grip around his head was so strong that the blasted thing pulled out some of his hair when he was able to remove one of the hands. He groaned when the doll shoved itself in his face one last time to reach completion. Only after it spurted its strawberry mousse flavoured semen completely in Snape’s mouth did it willingly remove itself, falling back onto the table lifeless as ever.

Hermione, no longer caring to realize her own completion, was doubled over, clutching her sides, roaring with laughter. When she looked up, still plagued with the giggles, she saw Snape the fiercest she had ever seen him. He was breathing heavy, hair all out of place; his eyes looked as if he could shoot lasers from them, and his mouth… Oh gods, his mouth had cum dribble at both corners. Hermione stopped laughing immediately and jumped out of her seat, and darted towards the door. She was too slow; Snape grabbed her by the arms and threw her to the side of the table she left.

She clasped the edge and grimaced as he came closer, bracing herself with whatever hex he should throw at her. He grabbed her by the arms again and shook her as he yelled, “WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT?” He looked like a rabid dog with pink foam surrounding his mouth.

She released the table and brought one cautionary finger up to his face, “Oh, no you don’t! You put a spell on me to feel your – your – down there!” She pointed down to her hips. “And now I know how you knew how I bit the penis!”

Snape, still looking livid as fuck, picked her up and sat her down on the table making her near eye-level with him. “That still doesn’t give you the right to use my devices against me, Miss Granger! 40 points from Gryffindor for misconduct with a Professor’s equipment!”

Hermione scoffed, “Piss off! If anything, I certainly did do misconduct with a Professor’s ‘equipment’ last class.” She glared challengingly back at Snape’s unrelenting black gaze.

He grabbed her chestnut mane with one hand and wrapped his other around her waist. Snape said in a low, dangerous voice, “I’ll show you misconduct,” and then he crashed lips onto hers. She snaked her arms around his neck and pushed into him, causing him to groan. He ran the tip of his tongue across her full lips, begging entrance. She parted them and captured his tongue with hers, strawberry mousse enveloping the two.

Snape retreated unwillingly from Hermione’s luscious mouth to breathe. In a ragged voice, he rasped, “Legs, Miss Granger.”

“What about them?” She replied, before wrapping them around his waist. Her skirt gave way as she pulled him to her and gasped as she felt his arousal; he growled as he bent over her, taking her mouth. He pushed the doll off of the table and shelled Hermione’s body with his own. The two kissed each other hungrily and groped desperately, both severely deprived of the sexual release they knew that only the other could provide.

A voice in Snape’s head screamed, THE PLAN! DON’T FORGET THE PLAN!

His randy thought spat, Fuck it, like I’m going to fuck her.

The logical thought replied, You plan on deflowering her on a table in the Potions classroom? Come on, man. We can ‘work up’ to that, which you will do in a bed instead of on a table.

‘Work up to,’ then, the randy thought asked. The thought figured out what the logical one was leading to. Hmm, that’s a fine idea.

Snape tore his mouth from hers and looked at her as she moaned in protest. Her eyes were half-lidded and staring at him in way that begged him to continue. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were bruised sweetly and delectably swollen. It took all of his willpower to not continue.

“Miss Granger – Hermione,” he said, “I think it’s time we tested your knowledge in Sexual Education.” She bit her lip.

“Sir?”

“Next class, we will have a test going over your ‘handiwork’,” Snape said with a smirk as he lifted himself and Hermione effortlessly from the table.

Hermione nodded dumbly while she was directed to the door by Snape. He looked her over to check if she was acceptable to go back to her rooms. He wiped away the doll cum that had smeared inadvertently round her mouth during their heated embrace together. Other than her skirt being a bit crumpled and her hair out of order (it rarely ever was in order per se, but nevertheless…), he deemed her fit to leave. She leaned into him and tried to steal a kiss, which he stopped by placing his slender finger on her lips.

“All in good time,” he whispered. He lifted the wards and that little charm from earlier off of her and nudged her out into the corridor. “Good evening, Miss Granger.”

He closed the door on her as she stood dumbfounded and rooted to the spot, unsure of what had happened and what was to follow.