Slytherin Ways

Slytherin Ways By April Grey

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

Dumbledore shook his hoary head. McGonagall looked like there was an unpleasant smell in the air.

I sat back and smiled. I had them and they knew it.

“I cannot condone this, Severus,” said the Headmaster. “She is, after all, a student and in my care.”

McGonagall just sat there, a stone sphinx smelling something nasty.

“The boy wonder looks to be in grave danger, yet again. That leaves me,” I felt the corner of my mouth curl in a smile, “to save the Wizarding World’s only hope. The obnus lus little Muggleborn is a small price, I think.”

Dumbledore looked about to hex my gonads off. I laughed. It felt good-- revenge was sweet.

I continued, “There will be no scandal, no outcry, no blot on Hogwarts reputation. All I am asking is that you turn a blind eye.”

“The seduction of a female student,” McGonagall’s pale blue eyes filled with tears. “That such a thing should--”

“Oh, Minerva, I’m sure it’s happened sometime before in Hogwarts histand and it will happen again. She’s a small fee to pay for the safety of the Wizarding World. And in return, the boy will be up and about again.”

“Harry,” Dumbledore murmured.

“In a coma, perhaps never to emerge. You are left with that halfwit, Longbottom. That is if you choose to continue to believe Trelawney’s prophesy. I give my word to you both. I shall be discrete. None will be the wiser.

McGonagall lifted her handkerchief to her eyes and dabbed. Oh such a sight! “Hermione Granger!”

“The Know-it-all best friend of Potter. Yes. That is my fee.” I almost wished for a mustache to twirl in a melodramatic frenzy. It was all that was left for this little play.

“You will not hurt her?” Dumbledore sounded weak and old.

“I will not rape her. No, I am an artist. She will willingly come to me, grateful for my touch.”

“I should have never allowed you to return here.” Dumbledore once again attempted to make me feel guilty. I stood up, allowing my cloak to flare dramatically.

“A blind eye is all I require.”

And I left.


Miss Granger was waiting for me in my rooms. I had left instructions for her with the house-elf and I was pleased to see the girl had complied. She had dressed herself in the pure white robe I had left for her. Her acquiescence boded well for the evening.

She shuddered and she brought her bare feet up close to her on the armchair. “Professor Snape, are you sure this will work?”

“Quite certain. You can save your friend, Harry, with your sacrifice.” I sneered, “Our small sacrifice-- as I have no interest in befouling myself with a student such as yourself.”

She bit her bottom lip, forcing it to bloom darkly like a wounded rose.

“It will take a little bit to set up for the ceremony. Are you quite sure you are willing to undertake this? I promise you, the magic will not work unless you are comply wly willing—“ I stopped, unsure what to call it and then—“to participate in this de-flowerment.” I smiled, looking kindly, I hoped.

“If this works, I’ll forever be in your debt.” Her brown eyes grew large and full of admiration. One would almost think I was a house-elf.

I liked the sound of her words, but I frowned. Frankly, I had no idea how I would ever spin this into more that a one time shag. Pity that. Her little bubbies had gotten so hard and pointed under the sheer white robes she was wearing that I would just love to have grabbed her and had my way with her right then and there. But no, I must set the stage.

I went about my chambers, setting up my personal cauldron, performing the cutting of fresh herbs and the filleting of flobberworms. The chit watched my every move with mindless devotion. Save my friend, Professor, save my friend, I could almost hear her twitter.

And it was done.

“As you understand, Miss Granger, this is dark magic and involves the usage of bodily fluids. Your maidenhead, the hymeneal blood of a close friend to the victim mingled with my ejaculate should do the trick to lift the spell from Harry.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Ah, but my dear, it will. Because I recognized the spell Harry was under. And it was a dark spell, one so dark that only one wearing the mordesmorde such as myself could dispatch it. But I did not tell her that. I was being careful not to underestimate her. The less she knew the better, lest she figure out that her little part of this escapade was not needed at all.

I placed my hand against her face and she shivered. I felt myself grow hard, harder, straining against my robes. I turned quickly, hoping that she had not noticed. It would not have done for her to know how much power she possessed over me.

“Trust your old Professor, will you? And do shut up before I lose focus.”

Lose focus, oh yes, there was a good one. Perhaps if I lost focus maybe we’d have to have a second go at it? I shook my head, wishing I could keep her forever as mine. But I couldn’t.

I had had the house elves put fresh sheets upon my bed and I personally sprinkled them with rosemary and laer. er. Still she watched my every move. I mumbled a blessing or two to make things look on the up and up.

“And now Miss Granger. You may divest yourself of your gown and get up on the bed.”

Ah, how prettily she trembled. My cock was twitching and aching to take her as I watched the little strip show. She raised her robes, slowly revealing petite ankles and lovely white thighs and then the thatch of curly brown hair at the top. Her buttocks were quite inviting and I wondered if I dared venture to leave teeth marks in them?

And the bubbies. I’d been waiting for them. They were pink tipped, snow-covered peaks emerging from the topography of her body, pointed and sharp in subtle contrast to the gentle slopes of her shoulders. She climbed onto the bed and I paused.

My body is a horror to me. Pale and thin, marked with the scars of battle. And though it was the wrong time to be self-conscious, I decided not to remove my robes at all. I slipped off my shoes and socks and left it at that.

I carefully placed the vessel that I needed to store our fluids on the nightstand by my bed.

“Miss Granger, if you would prefer to have the lights out?”

“No, Professor Snape. I said that I do this willingly and I mean it. I am quite mentally prepared for what is to come. You can take off your clothing now.”

I started from the shock. “That is not necessary.”

“Then my removing my clothes was not necessary.” Damned Know-it-all! I felt a bead of perspiration crawl down the side of my face. The thought of being under her scrutiny made me go soft. I desperately searched for a lie, any lie that would allow me to stay dressed. And came up with none. I was speechless and I found myself helpless before her naked splendor.

Miss Granger crept off of the bed and with trembling fingers undid the top button of my robes. I watched numbly as she continued to undo the next button and then the next. She eased my robes off my shoulders leaving me dressed solely in my white under-gown. I had to remind myself to breath.

Where was the virgin that I was so sure would be screaming, terrified under my thrusts?

“Miss Granger,” I managed to croak out, “please do not bother doing this.” I prayed that she would leave me this one garment, one last shred of privacy.

“A deal is a deal. And this is for Harry.” She replied quite stubbornly.

I tried to remain in control. After all she was little more than a child, but there was a wild intensity in her eyes that I have only seen in one other woman -- Bellatrix Lestrange. All my concentration went into not giving into the shakes that her touch was engendering in me.

She unbuttoned my under gown and revealed my chest. That hideously concave chest of mine! And then the most amg thg thing happened-- she touched me! Her delicate white hands spread over the few hairs there and she rubbed her thumbs over my nipples. I lost control and with a moan I pressed my lips down to kiss her exquisite throat. My shirt slipped down over my narrow shoulders and I was naked before her. Hends,nds, those incredibly nimble hands, stroked and caressed the scars on my back. One hand swept down over my buttocks and then returned upwards over my jutting hip. I had never been so ashamed of my body. And yet I could make no move. I was paralyzed by her touch.

A doubt ran through my mind. Could such a wanton truly be a virgin? Yet, as part of the ruse I had made a grand show over testing her and she indeed was. Polyjuice? I looked to the Sneakoscope on my mantle, no, there was no sign of deception on her and and it was already set to ignore mine.

She dropped to her knees and I almost backed away. Nothing was going as planned. She grabbed hold of my naked genitals and cupped them, examining them with detached interest. Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger, not just a Know-it-all, but curious about everything, including what a naked man looks like.

“Professor, I’m nervous too. But this won’t work unless we are both willing.”

She was commenting on my flaccidity. Damn the we I I wasn’t flaccid before her forwardness destroyed my composure. I glared at her! Yet words again failed me and nothing came from my mouth. Then, with lighting swiftness she stood and thrust her tongue between my lips.

She was awkward, yet it occured to me that she has read the book. That book! The only book of its kind in Hogwarts: Tantra and other Sex Magics.

I attempted to regain control over myself, but I felt as deflated as my cock. She led me to the bed where she spent part of the night fondling and stroking me, even licking and kissing me, in an attempt to help me seduce her. She is a Gryffindor and knew nothing of subtlety. Yet, I found I could do nothing but moan and give myself over to her ministrations. Though disgusted that my features were revealed so plaito hto her, I could find no will in me to stop her.

Finally, she whimpered, “We’ll never save Harry. Oh please, Professor, we must do this now. The potion will be going to waste.”

And how did the chit know this? The book, she had gotten her filthy, little, Muggleborn hands on the book. How? It didn’t matter. I looked at her, feeling stupid. Damn her! Does she know? I wondered. She must know. The seduction had become a farce.

“Miss Granger, do you know which potion we abo about to make?” I said, feeling dizzy.

She nodded, “Vitality Elixir based on the Tantric Kumari Puja. It won’t actually break Harry’s spell; however, you will need it after releasing Harry because curing him will leave you close to death.”

And then she resumed her attempts to arouse me. I was sickened.

“Get out! Get out of here!” I tossed her gown at her. And then she shook her head, ‘no’.

I closed my eyes in despair and then opened them in shock. Her wand was pointed at my chest. “A deal is a deal, Professor.”

She pointed the wand to my privates and muttered an incantation. I hardened and rose, but there was no libido involved. She pushed me on my back and with no gentleness at all grabbed my cock and positioned it to her. Slowly she lowered herself and I watched the pain flicker over her face. When I was fully sheathed, she began her thrusts. Blood trickled down onto my pubic hair and I watched her. She was a terror, a succubus come to claim her victim. Her nails clawed my shoulders and chest. I felt no ardor, only a sickness at the rape of my body.

It must have been reflected on my face for she stopped. “It has to be willing, doesn’t it?”

I no longer wished to continue the farce. “Please leave me.” My voice came out little above a whisper. But she was still convinced that this is the only way to save her friend. I had tired of the game-- she has ruined it all! Damned Gryffindor. Hideous Amazon!

I felt wetness on my chest. Her tears. I did not care for the tears of a girl.

“Am I so revolting!” she lashed out at me. “Well, am I?”

Of course-- the answer dawned on me. By the time I reached Seventh year there was nary a virgin but myself. Such are the ways at Hogwarts. Much as you try, you can’t stop Wizards and Witches from having sex, not once they are legally oe ate at sixteen. But she is eighteen and still a virgin. As I had once been.

“You are not ill-featured. I find you quite handsome.”

“Liar!”

I began to chuckle. Of course, she was beautiful. That was what this was about: my plan-- my perfect plan to revengselfself on them all while despoiling the friend of Harry Potter. But she didn’t know it. She thought that she was at fault for my inability to seduce her. I laughed loudly and she hit me, her charming, little fists thumping against my chest. She was angry; oh she hated me all over again. I was once more filled with desire. Furious joy and wondrous annoyance, I rose up, harder than before and I brought my body over hers. She writhed under me, cursing me while I nipped and kisser ner neck. She called me names. And I called her Goddess, and I thrust into her over and again until I felt her muscles grew tight and clenched me.

She screamed during her climax and racked my arms with her claws. She was a Hellcat, a Kneazle of the first order and I slammed myself into her one final time before I came. It took a brilliantly long time for my climax to end and I was unmanned by the sheer delight of it. So many years of solitude, broken by this one sparkling moment between a student’s legs. Finally, finally I was victorious.

I felt her small, perfect hand stroke my head and I was suddenly aware of my tears. I opened my eyes planning to scream at her, but I lost my intention by the gentle look in her visage. She wiped the tears from the side of my face and I pressed her hand to me.

“Professor?”

I nodded. She laid back and I collected the magical mixture made of up the blood from a Witch’s maidenhead and a Wizard’s seminal fluid.

She dressed, kissed my cheek, and left without a word. I made the potion from habit: waste not want not.

Then I went and performed the dark magic necessary to release the boy. How did Granger know? Dumbledore, McGonagall and I, we all knew there was a chance this would happen. We knew but never said it; that my request to have Miss Granger in my bed was probably a last wish. Yet I refused to believe I was not strong enough to survive.

The dark magic swirled about me, sucked my life force so swiftly that I abruptly sank to my knees. I couldn’t feel my body. I was cold and knew that death was nigh. My vision went grey and then black. But as I lherehere gasping my final breath, I heard her speak from miles away.

“We did it! Harry’s awake.”

Hot, little fingers pried open my lips and something burned my mouth. It blazed as it went down my gullet, forced down by clever hands manipulating my throat.

How did she know?

I am told that the demise of the Dark Lord was unspectacular. I was not witness to it, having spent the better part of a year insensible in St. Mungos. Miss Granger kept to her word. She has been eternally grateful. She moves my wheelchair out onto the terrace of the little cottage that was procured for me upon my release from the hospice. She visits me once, sometimes twice a day. Reads to me, since even with glasses, I can see little more than shadows. She cuts flowers from my garden and brings them to me. scolscolds my nurse if she finds her inattentive. She strokes my face and gives me little kisses when she leaves. She is the highlight of my day.

If I had any decency I would release Miss Granger of her debt to me. I’d tell her to go.

And if Wishes were Horses then Beggars would ride.

I will never release her.


A/N: I’m still working on my novel “Chasing the Trickster.” This is a little present for the people who have been giving me support in my travails. Thank you!