Snapey Went A Courting

Snapey Went A Courting


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


More fireworks went off in the streets of Hogsmeade. They were loud, bright, obnoxious things. But there was little Snape could do and, frankly, having his first drink since the return of the Dark Lord and no longer a need to worry about his Occlumency skills, Snape was starting not to care. Indeed, hidden away in his little corner of the Hogs Head pub, he was feeling no pain.

All those gruesome years of watching over Potter and his little pals were over! He made another silent toast. The little monsters had graduated on time in spite of the war and while he had been free of them this past school year; nonetheless, they had been at every Order meeting… But now with the demise of the Dark Lord, oh wait he could say the name now-- Voldemort, let’s do that again… Vol-de-mort. With his demise he was also free of the Dark Mark (yes, his left arm was now blissfully unmarred) and he was free of the bigheaded Potter, stupid ginger haired freak and their frizzy haired companion. Snape paused in his thoughts. Hermione Granger the Mudblood. Yes, he was free of her incessant question asking and her strident little antics. Damn. He might actually miss her. She always made him secretly smile, the little monkey. Still he’d be free of her as well.

Speak of the Devil!

Snape uncoiled himself from his hidey-hole. Wasn’t that Granger? By herself and laughing a bit too loudly at the jokes of those good for nothing lushes in the corner. Snape’s teaching persona snapped back into place. He strode over and took her by the arm.

“Miss Granger! What are you doing here?”

She looked up at him with slightly unfocussed eyes. “Professor Snape. I heard you were here—“

“And you couldn’t resist coming to see how I was doing?” One lip curled up in a snarl of disbelief.

“You left the party and you weren’t in your rooms.”

“Please explain yourself.” He wasn’t curious, no, not a bit. Still…

“Well… I… I just wanted to thank you for saving my life,” she burbled.

“I did nothing of the sort.” The horror tinged words escaped from his lips before he could think better of them. Surely the little brat wasn’t trying to thank him? Oh Gods, he thought in complete annoyance.

“You did. I was there.” Her eyes glowed with… Snape shook himself. He really didn’t need gratitude. However, it was a first. No one ever thanked him. And hadn’t he pulled the trios’ chestnuts from the fire time and again? He knew for a fact that he wasn’t on the Order of Merlin list. Well, what of it, he’d resigned himself to it a while ago. And, to be honest, he’d decided that he liked it that way. Peace and quiet, that was his reward. Ah, but the look of admiration on her plain little face was intoxicating.

“Well…” he said silkily. “Would you care for a libation?”


&&&

Hermione felt the room spinning and knew she’d had a bit too much to drink. Ummm, she thought, that was a bit of an understatement. My, the red current rum did have more of a kick than butterbeer after all. It was most definitely time to head home. Oh, but what to do with a potions master who’d a bit too much to drink? She could leave him. But honestly, she felt a bit protective of the git. Oooh and a git he was. All he wanted to do was talk and hear himself be talked about. A bit of an egotist really. Or perhaps just desperate for attention? Pathetic, truly pathetic. She shook her head. The room lurched and she knew she needed to head home and take a potion before her head got much worse. Still, she didn’t like the look of those Wizards in the corner. They seemed the sort that might take advantage of poor old Snapey.

“Come along you,” she put her shoulder underneath his arm. “Let’s get you back to your dungeons!”

“I’m just fine, you little muddle blooded monkey of mine. Oooh, you are such a cute little muddle- muddle—muddle born,” Snape sniggered a bit and then tried to act sober, only to giggle.

Hermione sighed. She felt a bit tipsy herself. The room was too warm and swirling about her. Together, they managed to lurch out of the pub. The cold air hit them, smelling of a promise of snow and Hermione cast a warming spell over them. Unfortunately, the cold air seemed to do little for Snape’s inebriation. Hermione realized they looked quite the sight swerving and staggering through the November night together, him like a great black crow and she wearing a mini-dress under her robes, tottering on three inch heeled boots. Her witch’s hat kept threatening to fall off and between that and Snape’s overly friendly hugs-- he couldn’t be trying to cop a feel, he just couldn’t-- she simply didn’t know how they’d get back.

They were actually on Hogwart’s grounds, walking down a small slope before heading up the much larger one leading to the main entrance, when her boot heel caught and they went flying down in a tangle of legs and robes.

“Oh, you little minx,” he breathed on her.

It took Hermione a moment, one horrifying long, endless moment, to realize that somehow they were quite intimately intertwined.

Their robes had hitched up.

And her hand was… was on… his…

“Oh, yes, that’s right you hot, little bundle of muddle-love, touch me.”

He was breathing rapidly and his face was buried in her hair. And her hand was on him and he was in heaven. Finally, someone who appreciated— oh dear, he thought.

Even drunk, it didn’t take much. Years of self-service had brought him to a hair trigger and the contact between him and her white cotton knickers (glowing so sweetly in the moonlight) and her hand had just been too, too much to bear.

The fact that Snape went without underwear was more than a little disconcerting to the young Witch. Hermione had heard that many Wizards did indeed choose to go without, but that Snape did was a bit of a blow. Worse, however, was that her hand was indeed on a certain surprisingly hard part of his anatomy. Suddenly she found herself with a handful of Snape and he was quite gleefully thrusting against her hand and her hand was all that was between him and her sheer cotton covered delta. She lay there in shock, trying to think when really she should have been taking action to get him away from her. Yet she was having difficulty believing this was happening and it made her slow on the uptake.

A very hot, liquid sensation suddenly crawled over her crotch and hand.

“Oh, by Merlin and all the Gods,” he crooned into her hair. “Merciful Merlin, thank you. Oh, Gods it’s been a while.”

Hermione wondered dully, why Snape was thanking Merlin, after all it was her—and then she sobered up. The git! Damn, he’d ejaculated on her! Hermione used all her strength to push him away and get out from the entanglement of robes and legs. She managed to roll over before losing her stomach contents. She wiped her sticky hand on the damp grass.

Ewwww, she thought. He’d cum on her! She reached for her wand to hex him good only to hear him make a snorting noise. Her eyes narrowed, if he was laughing—but no. On closer inspection, she realized that he was snoring. He’d passed out. Strike that, he’d copped a feel, humped her hand, come on her and then passed out. The Bastard!

Hermione stood and immediately almost went down again. Her ankle wasn’t feeling quite right. She performed a quick healing spell and then transformed her high-heeled boots into sensible trainers. She looked up at Hogwart’s. The Great Hall was alit and she could hear sounds of merriment in the distance. She shivered. She was sorely tempted to leave him there. It would serve him right, the pig! Just then the first few snowflakes began to fall.

Hermione started to walk up to the castle. Let him freeze his family jewels off, she thought. That’s what he deserved. She took a few more steps and stopped. She couldn’t hear his snores. The bit in her that was soft and gentle and way too loving popped up. He was drunk. He might freeze to death. And after all, no harm was done. With any luck, he’d never remember it and she certainly would put it behind her. Chalk it up to experience, continued the little voice, so the pathetic git had needs. She turned around and pronounced, “Mobilicorpus”. He continued to blissfully snore as she strode quickly up to Hogwarts with him bobbing in the air behind her. Her plan was to dump him in the infirmary, get herself some headache potion and head home. As of late, she’d barely managed her duties as an Order member and a dentistry student. As much as her parents cherished Hermione’s return to the Muggle world, she found herself somewhat dense when it came to dentistry. She wished she had found something better to do with her life, but her parents had promised to support her, including paying rent on a lovely little garden flat just outside London and near to the school, as long as she managed to remain in the program.

She dropped off Snape on one of the hospice cots and found the potion she needed in Madame Pomfrey’s office. Of course, Pomfrey was at the party, but one of the housves ves was more than willing to open the supply locker for her. It had taken years for the elves of Hogwarts to come around, but now that they had a union, they regarded Hermione as an even a greater savior than Harry Potter.

Hermione went home, took a bath and headed to bed. She was glad the war was over, but somehow its significance had dwindled as she looked forward to her end of term dentistry exams. In many ways, dentistry was so much more challenging than magic! After all she was barely passing her course work, when at Hogwarts she had been a top student. Yes, indeed, failure was quite novel to her, but if she stuck with it and kept swotting, she’d be able to squeak by. She quickly put Snape’s squicky little indiscretion behind her since there were so many more important things to focus on.

&&&

Snape looked up from his butterbeer. He had sworn off hard liquor since that night last year when he really had overdone it. There it was again, that sound. It was coming from—Remus Lupin! Lupin. He despised Lupin. It was even worse in the aftermath of the huge turnover at the Ministry of Magic. All the laws protecting the public against his sort had been repealed. And now Lupin would be back in Hogwarts for the fall term, just days away. And there he was-- staring at Snape and gloating. No doubt because Snape almost had the DADA job only for it to be wrest away from him and given to the half-breed! Dumbledore had been hinting for years that the DADA position was Snape’s just as long as he stayed the course. Lies! All lies. Finally, Snape could stand it no longer. He stood up and with his most menacing look approached the werewolf.

Lupin looked at him and covered his mouth, trying not to laugh.

“You really do have your nerve. Mocking me, are you? Gloating, you furball!”

“I’m sorry, Severus!” snickered Lupin. “But it’s just too ironic.” He shook his head trying to sober up.

Snape drew his wand and laid it on the table. “You are tempting me to hex you.” With that Lupin finally lost it and started laughing outright. “See here!” said Snape, now completely vexed. “I really shall hex you.”

“Oh, I’m sure you want to. And after I tell you what I should tell you, or maybe I shouldn’t. Oh damn, it’s too rich to keep to myself.” He brought out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes.

Snape pulled up a chair and sat down. “A joke then?”

“Oh, yes. A rich one. Harry just left here you see. We were supposed to go out together this evening, but he couldn’t stay.” Lupin started laughing again. “Oh, I can barely take it.”

Snape, much against his will, felt himself start to smile. It was catching. “Well, then out with it. Harry told you a joke.”

“Oh, yes. Delightful. Tell me Snape, what were you doing nine months ago?”

“Is this part of the joke? I fail to see the humor. Nine months ago, we finally rid ourselves of the Dark Lo-- I mean Voldemort.”

“That’s right.” Lupin stared at Snape with an odd look. “And what did you do to celebrate?” He grinned like a cat that got the cream.

“I— Is it so important that you know?”

“Well, I wouldn’t mention it. In fact, I could just keep it to myself. It would get you back for what you did to me six years ago…”

“Oh, you are not going to dredge up that again? You admitted it was more your fault than mine.”

Lupin nodded. “Yes, but still you did help the situation along, didn’t you?” Suddenly Lupin became very serious and Snape felt a cold finger go down his spine. “You know, there were times I had to sleep on the street because I didn’t have the money for rent. And other times when I went for days without food. Severus, ‘old friend’, they say revenge is a dish best eaten cold.”

Snape held on to his wand so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “What are you on about?” he said in barely a whisper.

“What you did nine months ago? Think! Nine months. Come on, Severus, you couldn’t have forgotten her that easily. Or did you? Did she mean so little to you?” A look of disdain crossed his face.

“I don’t know what you are implying, but I don’t like the inference. Are you saying I… well, I would have remembered if—“ Snape stopped speaking and turned pale. Waking up in the hospital wing, his robes glued to his pubic area, he assumed that he’d had a nocturnal emission. He closed his eyes and concentrated. There had been someone there at the Hog’s Head. Someone he knew. Bushy hair… pale little fox like face. Oh Gods! Severus put his head in his hands.

“Coming back to you now, Daddy?” Lupin smirked.