Parvus Obitus

A/N - My first attempt at PWP. SS/HG. Not that great, I know. Can’t blame a girl for trying.

I own nothing from the Potterverse. Making no money off of anything, just trying to amuse myself with Snape and the lot.

Parvus Obitus

Albus Dumbledore looked across his desk at his agitated Potions Master. Snape
ran a hand through his already messy black hair. His dark Death Eater robes made
his skin seem paler than usual.

“Explain this potion to me again. I’m afraid it is not one I have ever heard
mentioned before.”

Snape stood and began to pull off the dark robes; the very feel of them
sickened him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could pull off the spy routine.
A large part of him wanted to pack up his lab and run. Only the knowledge that
it would be impossible to escape the detection of both his masters kept him at
Hogwarts. Dumbledore could be just as evil as Voldemort if he wanted to be, more
so because he liked to pretend he was doing it out of love.

Snape tossed the offending robes onto the empty chair and began to pace.

“The Parvus Obitus. The Little Death. A small dose of the potion will
drive the victim mad with lust. He or she would be willing to say or do anything
for release.”

He stopped to face Dumbledore. “It can be a very effective way to attain
information.”

Dumbledore nodded in understanding. “And a larger dose?”

“A larger dose will bring the victim to such an extreme state of arousal he
can never be truly satisfied. Eventually, he will die in a mindless haze of
sensation.”

Again, that infuriating nod. “Do you know what he plans on doing with this
potion, Severus?”

“I did not ask.” Snape went back to his pacing.

“So.” Dumbledore ran a soothing hand down his beard and gathered his
thoughts. “You have until Saturday to find the recipe and make the potion. I’ll
arrange a meeting for the order, call back Harry and Ron from Auror training for
the evening and we’ll go from there.”

“It is not so simple, Albus. I’m already familiar with the ingredients needed
for the Parvus Obitus. I have most of them in my personal stores. It’s
the last one that is going to cause a problem.”

“Stop being so dramatic, Severus. Tell me what the ingredient is and we’ll
get it.”

Snape hated being chastised by the Headmaster. It always made him feel like a
teenager. *Smug Bastard.*

“Fine, Albus. I need the sounds of a virgin’s orgasm. Please be sure to let
me know when you’ve found a willing donor, because I’m at a loss.”


– ~ –

Snape managed to avoid the Headmaster the next day. He ate supper as quickly
as possible, then rushed to the solitude of his office.

A small box was sitting on his desk when he entered the room. Snape cast a
few spells to determine the box was harmless and carefully opened it. Inside was
a wretched multi-colored knit scarf and a small note. Careful to avoid touching
the hideous item, Snape pulled out the note.

Just as he suspected, Dumbledore was calling a meeting of the Order and the
scarf was his port key.

There was a knock at the door. *Right on time, as always.*

“Enter.” He hid a grin as his apprentice hurried through the door.

Her hair had fallen loose from its bun, again, and she was quite obviously
out of breath. She had a note similar to his clutched in her hand.

“Professor Snape.” Her tone was polite.

Snape’s response lacked the friendliness of her greeting, but was still
warmer than when she’d been a student. He would die before admitting it, but the
know-it-all had blossomed into the very competent woman he enjoyed conversing
with over a boiling cauldron. “Ms. Granger. I see you received your summons.”

She nodded, a worried look on her face. “Do you know what’s happening? Why
are we being called?”

He dumped the scarf onto the desk. “I have an idea. Come on, must not keep
Albus waiting.” He held out his hand and waited for hers to slide into it. He
gripped her hand and reached for the port key.


– ~ –

No matter how many times he and Ms. Granger had arrived at an Order meeting
via port key in the two years since she’d become his apprentice, she still
reacted like the experience was new.

He would take her hand, touch the port key and open his eyes at the meeting
place to find her arms wrapped around him for balance as she fought not to be
ill.

The first few times Snape had quickly stepped out of her embrace and demanded
to know what she thought she was doing. She had turned green, and on one
particularly memorable occasion brought up some kind of vile meat-like substance
all over his shoes. Snape had learned to wrap a comforting arm around her until
she felt well enough to step back.

The others in the Order had gotten used to the odd tableau and no one
bothered to give them a second look.

Tonight was no different, although Neville Longbottom did stop to greet them
as he headed toward the meeting room. “Professor Snape. Hermione.”

Snape nodded at the young man. Ms. Granger kept her forehead firmly planted
under Snape’s chin and simply raised a shaking hand in acknowledgment.

After a few minutes she stepped back and offered a small, if slightly
ill-looking, smile. “Let’s go.”

Snape allowed her to enter first. She found a seat next to Potter and
Weasley. Snape stood in the shadows just behind the overstuffed chair holding
Dumbledore.

Once everyone was present and accounted for, Dumbledore stood, arms out to
indicate the need for silence.

“Voldemort has requested a new potion. One, I feel, that we should prepare
ourselves for. Professor Snape will explain the details.

“Severus.”

Snape took two steps forward so that he was even with the Headmaster. He
described the effects of the Parvus Obitus potion and what chances, if
any, someone would have in countering it.

Silence reigned until Weasley *Or was it Potter?* uttered, “What a way
to go.”

The tension broke and questions began to flood the room. Snape stepped back,
happy to let Dumbledore handle the mob.

When silence again descended Dumbledore spoke. “Now, I must ask for a
volunteer.” He held up a hand to quell the chorus of eager voices.

*It’s like watching a cult leader,* Snape thought.

“Hear me out. Professor Snape assures me that the potion can be completed
before Saturday’s deadline – if we can acquire the last ingredient. That is what
you will be volunteering for.”

*My, a lot less eager now that they know who’s involved, aren’t they? It
seems no one wants to be at the mercy of the greasy git.*

“Severus. Would you please explain.”

*Me? Why me, you old goat?*

“As you wish.” No way was he moving out of the shadows for this. “The potion
requires the sound of a virgin experiencing an orgasm. I can charm my wand to
record the ... process and add the component at the correct time. There will be
no need to interact with myself or my lab other than that.”

“Thank you, Severus. Well, any volunteers?”

Other than some low mumbling, no one spoke up. Everyone kept looking from
face to face. Quite a few heads turned toward Neville, but he only flushed and
muttered something about last summer and a picnic at the lake.

Snape smirked; somehow he’d known that asking a room full of war heroes to
discuss virginity would be a bad idea.

The meeting went on for another twenty minutes, then people began to leave in
small groups. It was better to apparate one or two at a time than to send out an
alert to anyone who was looking for large concentrations of magic.

Dumbledore had asked him to wait, hopeful that someone would step up to
volunteer in the end.

Snape watched Ms. Granger leave with Potter and Weasley. No doubt they would
stop at the Leaky Cauldron before parting.

Dumbledore secured the house after everyone else had left. “You were right,
Severus. This is going to be a problem.”


– ~ –

By Friday afternoon Snape was getting desperate. The Dark Lord was expecting
him to show up with the potion, and the excuse that no one was willing to
volunteer was not going to work. Death Eaters took what they wanted, they didn’t
look for volunteers.

A second-year Hufflepuff looked up, noticed Snape’s glare and quickly went
back to his potion.

The problem wasn’t finding someone willing to be recorded during the throes
of passion; money could buy anything these days. It was finding a virgin who
would do it.

He’d tried explaining it to Ms. Granger the night before. She’d asked about
his progress on the potion and he’d answered honestly. And a shade too bluntly.

She’d turned beet-red and changed the subject.

Snape’s unconscious smirk frightened the Hufflepuff, who’d looked up to see
if he was still being glared at.

It took a lot to embarrass Ms. Granger. She hadn’t even been flustered when
she’d gotten ill all over his shoes, just glared at him and told him it was his
fault for moving her so much.

But when he mentioned sex, her face lit up like one of those Muggle tavern
signs. *Silly witch.*

Finally, class was dismissed.

Honestly, if Dumbledore hadn’t found someone by dinner, Snape was going to
be forced into drastic measures.

Snape frowned as he sat down for dinner at the High Table. The seat on his
right was empty. Ms. Granger hardly ever missed a meal without informing him
first; they routinely discussed progress in the lab during meals.

The meal ended without Snape devising a plan. *I can’t very well wander
around Diagon Alley asking people the extent of their sexual experience and
would they like to participate in an experiment? I’d be locked up in a matter of
minutes.*

Dumbledore stopped him from leaving with a hand on his shoulder. “If I could
have a word with you in my office, Severus? I believe I’ve located the rare
ingredient you were requesting.”


– ~ –

In retrospect, he should have expected it. Any other semi-intelligent person
would have put two and two together long before now.

Yet he was still surprised to see a nervous Ms. Granger waiting in the
Headmaster’s office.

“Ms. Granger?” *Please, don’t let this be what it looks like.*

“Professor Snape. Headmaster.” Her voice broke on Snape’s name. *Oh,
Merlin. This is going to be bad.*

Dumbledore calmly sat behind his desk, ignoring Hermione’s nerves and Snape’s
turmoil.

“Ms. Granger, I can only assume that your presence here means that you have
found a volunteer.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she opened her mouth to speak. Nothing came out. She
settled for nodding once.

Snape crossed his arms and glared at his apprentice, willing her to change
her mind. He needed the final ingredient desperately, but he did not want it to
come from her.

“I’m going to regret asking this, but who is the volunteer?”

Hermione took a calming breath and whispered, “Me.”

*No!* He watched her for a moment, long enough to see her
straighten her spine and get back some of her usual spirit.

“Very well. Follow me to the lab and we will begin the potion at once.” Snape
nodded once to Dumbledore, who waved him away with a smile. *Of course he’s
happy. His involvement in this nightmare is over.*

Snape stormed through the halls, ignoring the student population. He could
hear the hurried footsteps behind him as she struggled to keep up.

He burst through the door of the lab and began setting up his cauldron. He
called out a list of ingredients, and Ms. Granger quickly set them in front of
him. They worked in silence for a few minutes while Snape thought.

He added all the physical ingredients and lowered the flame. The potion would
need to simmer for several hours before the last vexing ingredient could be
added.

Ms. Granger began to clean up the work space, seemingly glad to have
something with which to occupy herself.

“Why?” Snape’s voice was so low she almost didn’t hear him. He might have
thought she hadn’t if he had not seen her freeze up.

“How very Gryffindor of you to offer such a sacrifice for the war.”

She refused to turn around and look at him. He wanted to see her face, see
the insult register. He wanted her to change her mind. If there was one thing
Severus Snape did not want, it was to hear a replay of Ms. Granger calling out
Krum, Weasley or even – Merlin forbid – Potter’s name in passion.

“I’m not doing it for the war. And I didn’t see anyone else lining up to
help.”

“Why?”

“Because if I don’t, you won’t have the potion when he summons you and he
will be displeased. I’ve seen what he does to you when he’s displeased.”

His angry words echoed across the lab. “I will not have your pity.”

For the first time that evening, the Ms. Granger he was used to showed
herself. She whirled around and looked him in the eye. “You don’t have it. I’m
doing this for me. I can’t stand watching you struggle not to show an ounce of
weakness when he’s tortured you to within an inch of your life. I can’t sit
back, knowing I was too cowardly to stop it. This is for me. Not you. Not the
war.”

The urge to fight left him. *If she’s determined to do this, who am I to
try to stop her!*

“We have three hours to do this. Where would you be more comfortable?”

Apparently the question of location hadn’t occurred to her because she looked
startled. *Surely she didn’t think we would do it here?*

“My rooms, I think.”

He crossed to the fireplace and pulled a handful of floo powder out of the
box on the mantle. “It wouldn’t do to be seen entering your private rooms. Would
it, Ms. Granger?”

Again, that flush of embarrassment. “No, of course not.” She took a handful
of powder and tossed it into the fireplace. “My rooms.” She stepped in and
disappeared.

Snape soon followed.


– ~ –

The chair Snape was sitting in wasn’t particularly comfortable.

The dog-eared, worn copy of Hogwarts: A History he’d found on the
coffee table couldn’t hold his interest for more than a minute or two at a time.


He was uncomfortable in the unfamiliar surroundings. Ms. Granger’s setting
room was nicely furnished and homey, but it was completely foreign to him.

Or maybe it was the knowledge that she was on the other side of the door he
kept staring at, bringing herself sexual gratification, that kept him on edge.

He’d been in her bedroom only long enough to set the correct charm on his
wand and place it on a small table near her bed.

He’d left her in there with a lost look on her face as she stared at the bed.
That was twenty minutes ago.

The wait was killing him.

*How long can it possibly take to do that?*

He picked up the book again and tried to concentrate on the words in front of
him.

He was standing and in front of her seconds after she opened the door.

Her hair was down and curling around her face. She’d changed into a long,
purple, silk robe. Her arms were hugged tight to her body, and she was staring
intently at her bare feet.

The silence was awkward.

“Are you...” He had to stop to clear his throat. “Are you done?”

She shook her head miserably, still refusing to look up. “I couldn’t. I’m
sorry.” Her shoulders slumped forward in defeat.

Snape reached out tentatively to pat her shoulder in the closest thing he
could get to a comforting gesture. He jerked his hand away when she flinched at
the contact. She looked so miserable, he didn’t have the heart to berate her.
Truth be told, he was a little relieved.

“It’s all right. It’s an awkward situation, not conducive toward a... well,
an act of that nature.”

She turned back into the room and dropped dejectedly onto the bed. “I did
try. I just... The mood wasn’t right.”

Snape followed her, wanting to comfort and knowing now was a very bad time.
He picked up his wand and canceled the charm.

“Thank you. For trying to help. If I knew how to make this easier for you...”


Snape made it to the doorway before she spoke. “Wait.”

She was piling up a nest of pillows to lean against. “If this doesn’t work,
you won’t be able to finish the potion, right?”

“That is correct.”

She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. “Let me try again.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you sure this is the only way?”

He nodded.

“I’m sure.”

Snape stepped forward to reset his wand.

“Turn off the lights first, please.”

He flicked his wand and whispered “Nox.” The candles in the bedroom
extinguished, leaving only a soft glow from the sitting room. He could barely
see her legs on the bed; the rest of her was covered in shadows.

He quickly reset the wand. “I’ll leave you alone.”

“No.” He couldn’t see her face, but there was anxiety in her tone. “Would you
talk to me?”

“I hardly think that this is an appropriate time, Ms. Granger.” It was the
same tone he used to reprimand her when she was a student.

“Damn it, Professor. We’re running out of time. Would you just sit down and
talk to me. I need the distraction.”

Curiosity got the better of him and he gave in. The only place to sit was the
bed. He sat on the edge, not far from her knee, with his back toward the head of
the bed.

From the corner of his eye he could just see the bottom half of her
robe-covered legs and her small feet. Her toe nails were painted the most
shocking shade of red.

“What would you like me to talk about?”

Her legs shifted as she made herself more comfortable. “I don’t care. Just
help me forget why I’m supposed to be doing this. Knowing this is ultimately
meant for him is sort of creeping me out.”

Snape chuckled. “I can see how that would be a mood breaker.”

He heard her draw in a sharp breath. He started to turn to make sure she was
all right and her hand hit his shoulder with no small amount of e. “e. “Don’t
you dare turn around. This is weird enough with out you looking at me.”

“Sorry. I was concerned.” He noticed that her hand hesitated on his shoulder
before she removed it.

“Your laugh surprised me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh before.
It’s nice.”

“There aren’t very many things for me to laugh about.”

“You should do it more often. I bet women fall all over themselves when you
do.” She shifted again, and Snape became very aware of the movement of her robe
against her legs.

He chose to ignore her comment, unwilling to turn this into a discussion
about his lack of a love life. “I am afraid I never was very good at small talk.
I’m coming up blank here.”

“Tell me about your summer research project.”

Snape began to detail his thoughts on the need for a more effective way to
store volatile ingredients. The old methods weren’t incredibly safe, and he felt
that there should be some way to keep the ingredients in stasis without losing
potency.

After a few minutes, he noticed that Ms. Granger’s breathing had sped up a
bit.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Don’t stop talking. Do you remember the speech you gave my first
year?”

“Why?”

“Say it.” The robe seemed to have slipped off her legs and Snape realized she
had beautiful calves.

“I’m not sure I understand, Ms. Granger.”

Her hand pummeled his shoulder again. “Say. It.”

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making.”
The hand now resting on his shoulder began to squeeze.

“I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering
cauldron with its shimmering fumes...” Snape’s sensitive ears heard the sound of
silk sliding across skin. Her breath seemed to be coming out in soft little
sighs.

“The delicate power of the liquids that creep through human veins...” Her
legs shifted apart. Her knee touched his hip and she pulled it back for a second
before letting it rest against him again. Her sighs were getting louder. Snape
was starting to get warm.

“Bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...” The hand on his shoulder was
beginning to clench in time with the curling of her toes.

“Don’t stop.” The whispered words made the hair on the back of his neck stand
on end.

“I think I should leave now.”

Her groan redirected his blood flow southward. “Say my name.”

“Ms. Granger.” Another moan. His erection jerked at the sound. “Hermione.”

“Yesss.” The seductive hiss called to him. Only her hand on his shoulder kept
himm rum running from the room or turning toward her.

“Hermione, are you close?” His voice was husky with arousal. He hoped she
was, because he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could stand.

“Uh-huh, don’t stop talking.”

Snape felt like a randy teenager, hard and aching andble ble to do anything
about it. “Are you touching yourself? Your breasts?”

“No.”

“Would you?”

The hand on his shoulder slid away, and he heard her breath catch. “Touch
your nipples for me, Hermione. Pinch them.”

“Oh, Severus.” His name on her lips slid over him like warm silk. He couldn’t
keep from reaching down and adjusting his too-tight trousers.

“Do you like that?” He took her low, muffled moan as an affirmative. It
sounded like she was pressing her face into a pillow.

“Don’t hold back, Hermione. Let me hear you. Do you have any idea how aroused
you’re making me?”

Another moan, this one louder. Her legs opened wider, and he burned to touch
them. To run his sensitive palms up to her junction. To find out for himself if
she was as wet as he pictured.

He told her what he wanted to do. Each soft gasp fueled his fantasy, and soon
his breathing was as rapid as hers.

Her leg pressed against him, and he could hear the wet sounds as she touched
herself. She was getting close. Her gasps had turned to whimpers.

“Are you hard?” Her voice no more than a whisper.

*As a rock.* “Yes.” He bit off the word.

“Because of me?”

How she could be uncertain about that at a time like this boggled his mind,
but she seemed to need reassurance.

“Only for you. If circumstances were different, I’d be over you right now,
showing you just how hard and ready I am.”

“Oh. I’m close ... I’m, mmm...” Her moans were driving him crazy.

Her hand slid up his back, into his soft hair. Snape’s eyes closed at the
delicious contact.

“Touch yourself.” She was breathless as she made the request.

“I don’t think that’s...” Her fingers were massaging his scalp, and Snape
lost his train of thought.

“Please, I don’t want to do this alone.”

Snape’s hand drifted down. “I am.”

“I wish I was touching you.”

Snape shuddered as he cupped himself through his pants. He desperately wanted
to free his aching cock, but he couldn’t guarantee her chastity if he did.

“Gods, so do I.”

“I’ve never ... touched a man before.”

He groaned low in his throat. “Don’t remind me. This is difficult enough as
it is.”

“Oh, Severus. Oh.”

“Come for me, Hermione. Picture my hands on you. My tongue. Scream for me.”

The muscles in her legs tensed. The need to touch her was over powering.

He ran his fingers along the satin softness of her calf.

Her scream of release nearly made him come.

There was a flash of blue light as the spell on his wand ended.

He had forgotten it was even there. The wand reminded him of his original
purpose. He needed to leave, right now, before he did something unforgivable.
This was bad enough.

“Oh, my.” Her quiet sigh only made him feel worse.

“I bet that’s what phone sex is like.” She rolled over and buried her face in
a pillow.

Snape resisted the urge to turn and run his hand down her back. Barely.

“Phone sex?”

“It’s a muggle thing. Two people talk on the telephone and try to get each
other off. I didn’t realize it could be so ...”

Snape agreed. It had been very stimulating to hear her but not see or touch
her. He knew it would be ten times better when he finally did give free reign to
his hands. When he saw her face when she came for him.

*Whoa, boy. That is not going to happen.*

“I need to leave. The potion.”

“Oh. The potion. I’d forgotten ... I mean, of course you do.”

“Right. I’ll see myself out, Ms. Granger.”

He stood and snatched up his wand. He paused at the door, wanting to say
something, but having no idea what.

“Professor? Don’t forget to use the floo.”

He nodded once and walked toward the fireplace. He grabbed a handful of floo
powder and froze.

It just didn’t seem right, leaving this way.

“Professor?”

Snape turned to see her standing in the bedroom doorway. She was flushed and
tousled and immensely desirable. She hurriedly finished tying the belt of her
robe.

“This doesn’t have to change anything, does it? Everything’s going to be okay
between us, right? The way it was before.” She worried her lower lip.

“I’m afraid things have changed, Ms. Granger. That is unavoidable. But, yes,
everything will be okay between us. We’ll talk later, when we have had time to
think.”

He tossed the powder into the fireplace and stepped through.

tbc

edited 12/20/03