I, Snape

Chapter 8 - Escape!

Everything belongs to Rowling, except what you don’t recognize.

Squick alert: Those not into felines doing the nasty should skip this chapter – you’ve been warned!


Miss Granger has returned from the Feast in a highly emotional state. She went to bed not even bothering to speak to me and then, dare I say it? Hmm. I dare. In the dark silence of the room, I hear and smell her touching herself!

She thinks she can get away with this. And well, why not? Do I have the audacity to jump on her bed and give her the scare of her life? No. I simply sit here and sniff and listen to the quickened breathing and the aroma of her sex gone wild. Of course, were we on better terms, I would go up and assist her.

I would climb out from under the bed and up under her sheet. I would delve between her legs and then put the rasps of my tongue to really good use. Just imagine my silken black nose rubbing up against her clitermouse, rubbing it hard and my open mouth lapping up her crystal cream. Yes, you do not know, Miss Granger, of the pleasures I could afford you right now. And it is your fault for so stubbornly refusing to give into any of my advances!

Indeed, for three days I tried. I rolled over and allowed you to rub my stomach. I shamelessly batted my head against your legs. I purred and cuddled. I did everything I could imagine to try to get you to turn me back. I have been your pet and your plaything. And nothing worked. So here we are, you and me. I’m listening to you furtively attempt to release some stress and you’re hoping I don’t know what you are doing. But I know. I know.

Eventually I hear a small gasp, and I shake in sympathy. Well done, Miss Granger. Brought yourself off and now you can sleep. I listen for her breath to go slow, and slower, until finally she’s slumbering. I climb up onto her bed and sniff her luscious canyon lying under the covers. Her scent is so fresh and raw that I cannot help myself, but finding a hillock of bedclothes I kneed my paws rhythmically. Soon my hips join into the rhythm and I grind my pelvis into the material. The friction is amazing against my spiked tomhood, and soon I join Miss Granger in a tribute to Onan.

Satiated, I crawl under her blankets, to rest my nose in her lovely, fair breasts, which are barely covered by her nightgown. Goodnight Miss Granger, you heartless Mudblood!

&&&

I awaken and realize she has already left for breakfast. I had been snoozing deep under the covers where it was warm and calm. After spending such a long time in animal form, I begin to forget who I am. When Miss Granger is here, it is easy to remember because I feel the frustration of being powerless. Yet when she departs, I find myself strangely at peace with the world and myself.

Her trunks have already been taken to the train and all that is left is that mangy familiar of hers. I know she will be back for him. And then she will be forever gone.

I am upset by this thought, I know not why.

She stops by long enough to pick up her cat and make her goodbye to me. She reminds me that the wards will come down in about two hours and again begs me to let this go. “I only meant to save you from Sibyll Trelawney.” How mealy-mouthed of her! Nice try Miss Granger, but I shall hunt you down and file charges.

The door closes. I am alone. I curl up in my favorite patch of sunlight and fall asleep.

“Oh, it that you, Professor Snape?”

Dobby? Dobby!

“Hullo Professor. I is most surprised to see you is still here.”

Can you understand me?

“Why, of course, Professor. Clear as a bell.”

Dobby, take me into the hallway! Right now! DO IT!

The House Elf picks me up, ears all aquiver and suddenly, I am outside of Granger’s rooms. I shall run to Dumbledore, get changed and catch Miss Granger before she boards the train!

Good work, Dobby! I call out as I start running to the Headmaster’s office. Only to be distracted by…

The most delicious aroma I have ever crossed.

It is exquisite: like ambrosia for the olfactory senses.

Yes.

Yes!

YESSSSSSSSS.

Mrs. Norris is in heat!!!

In the distance, I hear her siren of love, “Merrrreowwwwwww!”

Yes, my love, my darling. I dash down the corridors, now so different from my cat’s eye view. I feel alive. I feel… happy. I am. I am. I… am… a cat!

There she is, ah yes, my grey boney beauty. She shimmies for me, her lovely tail twitching so fetchingly. And she cries out for me, again at the top of her lungs.

She rolls on her back, all kittenish and coy, and then rolls over again onto her four paws. All sway-back and seductive. Her eyes say, Come and get me, big boy.

Yes, my lovely Mrs. Norris. Indeed, I shall. She crouches, presenting her beautifully inflamed vulva and waggles it at me. Her delightful fragrance sends my head spinning. I inhale deeply, allowing the aroma to drift over and throughout my half-opened mouth and nose.

And then I strike! I leap upon her and in spite of her legs treading restlessly, I manage to clamp my teeth onto her neck. I bite down hard, keeping her in place as I mount her.

Move your tail, beloved, I growl through a mouthful of fur. And she does. Shifting her weight from side to side, she allows me access to her luscious sex and I enter her.

My prickly prick goes surely to its target and I hump her hard. I thrust myself repeatedly into her and she gyrates and bucks under me.

She screams in delight as I withdraw and the spines on my penis force her to climax. I hold back no longer and my cry joins hers in a duet of feline felicity!

I jump off of her, but fully expect we will be back to it in a few minutes. She purrs richly, and rolls around, the wanton minx. Ah, Mrs. Norris, how did I ever ignore your delightful charms all these years?

I begin to groom her, but there is a sound from down the hall and she runs away. I shall be with you shortly, my dear! But for now, I find myself in a post-coital stupor. I simply cannot move. And then it hits me.

This is what my life was meant to be! No more dunderheads. No more exploding cauldrons. No more tedious homework to correct. Yes, the life of a cat is the one for me! Finally, I have found myself.

Pleased over this revelation, I lick a paw. Then I see a pair of feet in neon blue trainers come my way.

“Ah, there you are Severus. I’ve been looking all over for you. Didn’t believe you’d up and go to Oxford without saying goodbye, in fact didn’t believe you’d head to Oxford at all. Well, yes, quite clever to be holidaying as a feline. Quite pleasant for you no doubt, however…”

Albus flicks his wand and suddenly, with no time to adjust, I find myself in my old body.

I fish a cat hair out of my mouth.

“Now, Severus, I have a few things we need to discuss—” He begins to walk in the direction of his office not even checking to see if I am following him.

“Filius, it seems, has a bone to pick with you, not quite clear what that was about, but he left for his holiday feeling quite cheated about something or other. And Peeves has mysteriously disappeared-- we really do need your help in locating him. The Bloody Baron is rather upset by the matter. Oh, and do you know anything about Madam Pince’s sudden resignation?”

Albus’ voice was growing fainter as he turned the corner, still thinking I was with him.

“And we simply must have a chat about the relationship between your….”

I didn’t hear the rest of the sentence.

“Accio broomstick,” and my broomstick flew from its place near the front door broom closet and into my hands. I got on it and was off.

As a student, I had often fantasized about what it would be like to break the Hogwarts rule of No Broomstick Riding in the castle. It is fantastic. I swoosh down corridors, tear around corners and with a quick ‘Alohomora’ I am out the door and heading to Hogsmeade’s train depot.

I really should do this more often.

Faster and faster I go, wind whipping my hair around my face. I laugh to think I shall indeed succeed, for I see the Hogwart’s Express has not yet left.

I quietly drop down a few feet away from the platform and steal up on my prey. She is with Potter and Weasley; when is she not?

Reaching out my hand, I grasp Miss Granger firmly by the shoulder. She shrieks. Ah, now my little mousey, shall I start with your head or your feet?

Potter knocks my hand off of her and Weasley takes a threatening step forward. I smile.
“Miss Granger, I give you a choice. You can come serve two weeks detention with me, starting this moment, or I can call the Aurors and you can risk going to Azkaban for your crime. I shall give you a reasonable amount of time to decide, perhaps to the count of ten?” Oh yes, I am very reasonable.
ss Gss Granger goes pale, while her friends begin to bluster, “Here, she’s not your student anymore” and “Whot’s going on?”

“Miss Granger knows what she has done. And now she needs to make amends.” I have rarely been in better form.

The girl looks close to tears, “But my parents are waiting at King’s Cross.”

“Well, I am sure that your friends will explain that you have been unavoidable detainedou cou can owl them all about it. So what will it be?” I cross my arms and tap my foot, giving the impression of brisk impatience.

For a moment, I think she is ready to shout, ‘Azkaban’, but she comes to her senses. I watch as her shoulders sink and a look of defeat comes over her lovely face. “I’ll come with you, Professor. Harry and Ron, take care of Crookshanks for me?”

I am then witness to a revolting display of Gryffindor sentiment as her two friends hug her and give her words of support against ‘the git’. She promises to explain it all to them via owl. I ‘Accio’ her trunk, reduce it and place it in my pocket.

With a wave of my hand, I invite Miss Granger onto my broomstick, and we return to Hogwarts where Miss Granger shall face the music posthaste.


A/N: Many thanks for the reviewd wod words of support from: Amethyst, Nesscafe, Shem, Rilla, Jen, Gina, Lady Snape, Andrian, Kiri, Ozratbag2, Dame Niahm, Lily, Elizabeth, Laerai, Leah.