To Covet and Consume
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
16
Views:
17,609
Reviews:
87
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
16
Views:
17,609
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.
Denying
Serious writers block. That is my lame excuse, that and I like to keep one chapter ahead of my posting so when I suffer from WB I can post it to tide you all over so I am not flamed. I am sorry. I don\'t write unless Snape comes freely into my mind and helps. I think he is disapointed that I won\'t let him touch his new assitant yet and thats why he is not talking to me.
Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews and to Amber D for her patiences with my use of comma\'s and such.
Hope you enjoy!
****************************************************************************
“The coloring of this one is just retched,” she scrunches up her nose in disgust at the pathetic substance in the second-to-last vial.
I grin, “That it is Miss Granger.” Her criticizing eyes meet my own for a moment before returning to Mr. Hugo’s assignment. “Now, can you tell which steps were possibly done wrong?”
“This is utterly pathetic,” she says in a sad, sympathetic tone. “I don’t know where to begin exactly.”
“To correct Hugo’s work is generally an ordeal. He is a unique case, quite like Longbottom,” I jab lightly, and she winces. “Hugo has made many random mistakes, unlike the other vials here which only have one or two. Hugo and Longbottom even make me have a slight appreciation when it comes to correcting your dear Mr. Weasley’s work.”
Her eyes are unblinking. Even without the use of Legilimency, I can tell exactly what hexes she wishes to throw my way in defense of Weasley and Longbottom. “There are three possibilities in Mr. Hugo’s case,” her eyes return to the assignment at hand. “If the initial boiling temperature was wrong and he did not add enough Gillyweed to allow oxygen to circulate as it simmered, the final product could have turned out this way,” she motions to the vial.
I arch a brow, “If what you say were true, Hugo would have had to increase the temperature of the solution sometime between step four and five or he would have destroyed his cauldron before he produced the filth this vial contains. Your second theory?”
She lifts the vial gently, to allow herself a closer view. “He must have missed adding the skinned willow all together-”
“No, that could be an option in a regular batch, but this potion also has added gaur root for its faster pace healing properties,” I conclude with an exaggerated sigh.
She nods, “Of course, if he did not add the skinned willow first then the rest of it would have just evaporated.” She looks up at me, “May I ask a question sir?”
“If you must,” I answer dryly.
“How were the ingredients written out on the board?”
I flick my wand effortlessly over my shoulder and repeat the enchantment I uttered earlier today. I watch her stare past me, over my left shoulder. I can follow her eyes reading and rereading the possible clue. I watch her lower her eyes to her own parchment as she makes a few of her own calculations. I lick my own lips when she moistens hers. I follow her capable hands with my own eyes as they run through her hair, down the back of her head, and massage her neck gently as she stares down at the paper in thought. I start to imagine ways to help ease her physical tension. A simple massage should do the trick. Would that not shock her? To find me so close, casually kneading away at her taut flesh.
“He read the instructions wrong from the start!” Her excitement at her own discovery stops where my personal train of thought was leading. She moves from the chair in front of my office desk to stand next to me, notes in hand. She unceremoniously plops her parchment down and hovers near me as she explains a quite plausible theory. Her hand brushes against my own as she removes my red quill to explain how this boy misread my instructions. Such a problem solver my little payment is. I am quite proud of her, and the grin she is giving me means she is quite proud of herself too.
“Took you long enough,” I sneer. “I should have made both you and Mr. Malfoy spend a trial period with me before making my final decision. I suppose I have learned from my mistake this year, and I shall not allow someone to sign with me so quickly again.”
Her smile fades and her eyes stare into mine unblinking again. This time I do not see many dangerous hexes brewing within them, only tears. She swallows noticeably and steps back from the desk, and more importantly me. I watch her move back to her cauldrons and finish off both perfectly. As she cleans up her workstations in silence, I mark the last vial and place all marks she and I agreed on in my marking ledger. I tidy up my desk then lean back in my chair and watch her.
Why did I do that? What in Merlin’s name do I have to gain from blasting her self esteem to shreds? The better question should be why I should even care. She should come to expect this from me! I -”
“I have my rounds in a few minutes sir, is that all for tonight?” She pulls me out of my reverie with the first words she has spoken since I hurt her precious Gryffindor pride. Her eyes barely meet mine, but her courage has allowed her to approach my desk.
I nod curtly, “You are dismissed for the evening, Miss Granger.”
“Thank you, sir,” she says in a voice much smaller then usual, and I can not pin-point exactly why her uneager voice annoys me.
“I shall send a weekly schedule to you tomorrow during breakfast. Skinner will deliver it, of course. I will create a schedule every Monday, for the following Monday so you will know a week ahead what will be needed of you. If there are specific days off you need you must discuss it with me first. I will decide whether or not you may have them at the time of discussion.”
She nods before moving to pick up her bag. Once the bag is securely over her shoulder, she heads straight for the nearest exit. She hesitates before opening the heavy door and turns towards me, “Thank you, sir, for this opportunity. You will not regret choosing me in the end. I promise you that.” She pulls the door open and it groans slightly, “Sleep well sir.” I watch the door close behind her before I take out a roll of parchment and start on her schedule for the rest of this week and the whole of next.
****************************************************************************
Chapter 10 is already written. Technically this chapter is my buffer in case Snape refuses to let me channel his demented thoughts, but I will post it after 1 review. Consider this my apology for making you wait almost 20 days for this update.
Working on Chapter 11 as soon as I post this!
Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews and to Amber D for her patiences with my use of comma\'s and such.
Hope you enjoy!
****************************************************************************
“The coloring of this one is just retched,” she scrunches up her nose in disgust at the pathetic substance in the second-to-last vial.
I grin, “That it is Miss Granger.” Her criticizing eyes meet my own for a moment before returning to Mr. Hugo’s assignment. “Now, can you tell which steps were possibly done wrong?”
“This is utterly pathetic,” she says in a sad, sympathetic tone. “I don’t know where to begin exactly.”
“To correct Hugo’s work is generally an ordeal. He is a unique case, quite like Longbottom,” I jab lightly, and she winces. “Hugo has made many random mistakes, unlike the other vials here which only have one or two. Hugo and Longbottom even make me have a slight appreciation when it comes to correcting your dear Mr. Weasley’s work.”
Her eyes are unblinking. Even without the use of Legilimency, I can tell exactly what hexes she wishes to throw my way in defense of Weasley and Longbottom. “There are three possibilities in Mr. Hugo’s case,” her eyes return to the assignment at hand. “If the initial boiling temperature was wrong and he did not add enough Gillyweed to allow oxygen to circulate as it simmered, the final product could have turned out this way,” she motions to the vial.
I arch a brow, “If what you say were true, Hugo would have had to increase the temperature of the solution sometime between step four and five or he would have destroyed his cauldron before he produced the filth this vial contains. Your second theory?”
She lifts the vial gently, to allow herself a closer view. “He must have missed adding the skinned willow all together-”
“No, that could be an option in a regular batch, but this potion also has added gaur root for its faster pace healing properties,” I conclude with an exaggerated sigh.
She nods, “Of course, if he did not add the skinned willow first then the rest of it would have just evaporated.” She looks up at me, “May I ask a question sir?”
“If you must,” I answer dryly.
“How were the ingredients written out on the board?”
I flick my wand effortlessly over my shoulder and repeat the enchantment I uttered earlier today. I watch her stare past me, over my left shoulder. I can follow her eyes reading and rereading the possible clue. I watch her lower her eyes to her own parchment as she makes a few of her own calculations. I lick my own lips when she moistens hers. I follow her capable hands with my own eyes as they run through her hair, down the back of her head, and massage her neck gently as she stares down at the paper in thought. I start to imagine ways to help ease her physical tension. A simple massage should do the trick. Would that not shock her? To find me so close, casually kneading away at her taut flesh.
“He read the instructions wrong from the start!” Her excitement at her own discovery stops where my personal train of thought was leading. She moves from the chair in front of my office desk to stand next to me, notes in hand. She unceremoniously plops her parchment down and hovers near me as she explains a quite plausible theory. Her hand brushes against my own as she removes my red quill to explain how this boy misread my instructions. Such a problem solver my little payment is. I am quite proud of her, and the grin she is giving me means she is quite proud of herself too.
“Took you long enough,” I sneer. “I should have made both you and Mr. Malfoy spend a trial period with me before making my final decision. I suppose I have learned from my mistake this year, and I shall not allow someone to sign with me so quickly again.”
Her smile fades and her eyes stare into mine unblinking again. This time I do not see many dangerous hexes brewing within them, only tears. She swallows noticeably and steps back from the desk, and more importantly me. I watch her move back to her cauldrons and finish off both perfectly. As she cleans up her workstations in silence, I mark the last vial and place all marks she and I agreed on in my marking ledger. I tidy up my desk then lean back in my chair and watch her.
Why did I do that? What in Merlin’s name do I have to gain from blasting her self esteem to shreds? The better question should be why I should even care. She should come to expect this from me! I -”
“I have my rounds in a few minutes sir, is that all for tonight?” She pulls me out of my reverie with the first words she has spoken since I hurt her precious Gryffindor pride. Her eyes barely meet mine, but her courage has allowed her to approach my desk.
I nod curtly, “You are dismissed for the evening, Miss Granger.”
“Thank you, sir,” she says in a voice much smaller then usual, and I can not pin-point exactly why her uneager voice annoys me.
“I shall send a weekly schedule to you tomorrow during breakfast. Skinner will deliver it, of course. I will create a schedule every Monday, for the following Monday so you will know a week ahead what will be needed of you. If there are specific days off you need you must discuss it with me first. I will decide whether or not you may have them at the time of discussion.”
She nods before moving to pick up her bag. Once the bag is securely over her shoulder, she heads straight for the nearest exit. She hesitates before opening the heavy door and turns towards me, “Thank you, sir, for this opportunity. You will not regret choosing me in the end. I promise you that.” She pulls the door open and it groans slightly, “Sleep well sir.” I watch the door close behind her before I take out a roll of parchment and start on her schedule for the rest of this week and the whole of next.
****************************************************************************
Chapter 10 is already written. Technically this chapter is my buffer in case Snape refuses to let me channel his demented thoughts, but I will post it after 1 review. Consider this my apology for making you wait almost 20 days for this update.
Working on Chapter 11 as soon as I post this!