One More Night
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,741
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,741
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
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.
One More Night
Severus Snape was in his office, marking essays and chanting a mantra.
“One more night to go. One more night to go.” One more night until he could bid farewell to this years intake of wizarding brats, one more night until his past was finally behind him, one more night until the day when he never had to see Harry bloody Potter again. Was it too much to ask that his past discretions were not brought up time and time again by the mere presence of the saviour of the wizarding world? No matter. This time tomorrow he could rest in peace, safe in the knowledge that he would never again run into Potter and his sidekick Weasley down a darkened corridor. Sidekicks, not sidekick. Why had his brain left out the interminable Miss Granger? He supposed it must be the late night combined with the idiocy of the work he was marking. He bent his head, and growled as he set to work on a particularly bad third-year essay, his mantra returning once more.
“One more night to go, one more night to go.”
***
Three corridors away, there was a strange disturbance in the air, and a voice muttered a curse under her breath.
“Bloody veils.” She knew she couldn’t give up, this was her last chance, she might never again have a reason to return here, and she couldn’t leave without knowing…
Remembering her self-help book, she took up her mantra once more.
“One more night to go. One more night to go.”
***
Severus Snape snapped his neck up as he felt his wards being disabled and his door opened. His brain ran through his list of enemies and those who might potentially want to harm him. Voldemort, Malfoy, Death Eaters, Aurors thinking they might catch the Death Eater that had so long eluded them. Just as quickly, his brain discounted them in order. Defeated, dead, in Azkaban, proved wrong thanks to Dumbledore and his somewhat, revealing, speech just a few months before. No, the sad fact was that after two decades of spying, the person breaking into his office at this very moment was most likely a student. He still could not see them however, though the door was now wide open. There was only one answer. Bloody Potter and his bloody invisibility cloak. He drew his wand to unveil the boy, but before he could, he heard a whispered nox and the lights went out.
Suddenly, music filled the chamber, low, haunting, exotic music. As his eyes adjusted to the nessness he could make out a womanly figure, dressed in draping material that reminded him of veils. The figure started to dance in such a way that made his blood rush straight to his groin. There was no question about it – veils were all she was wearing. His eyes popped and his jaw dropped as the figure removed one of the veils, realising what he was seeing. The Dance of the Seven Veils. He could not see the face, one of the veils cleverly obscuring it, and realised that he had two choices. He could sit back and enjoy the show, knowing that this was a student (surely none of the staff could look that good clad only in bits of thin material?), or he could stop this idiocy before it went to far. He resigned himself to what he knew he must do, but failed in his attempt to reach his wand. It seemed that whilst he had been pondering his moral obligations, the girl had managed to tie his hands together, and fix them to the chair.
Knowing he could not move had a strange effect on Severus Snape. He felt irate, yet at the same time… aroused. He watched the figure as she continued to dance, and felt his cock harden and begin to pulse as she removed a second, a third, and then a fourth veil. She now had only the veil on her face, and two placed in somewhat strategic positions. There was no questioning that the girl had an incredible figure, yet it seemed worryingly familiar. He still could not see the face, his his brain ran through the possibilities. With such a developed figure it had to be a sixth or seventh year student, please not one of his own Sly-. His brain ceased to work as she removed the fifth veil to reveal her pale, separated, rounded breasts, two orbs that seemed to personify heaven itself, each with an already erect centre. The figure moved towards him, and he longed to take one perfectly formed breast in his mouth, to give it the attention it deserved, to suck the nipple, to graze it with his teeth. The figure was still approaching him, the recently removed veil in her hands. She stepped in between his legs, brushing his thigh with her knee. He wished that his hands were free as she bent over him, as she lowered her breasts closer to his mouth… The world went dark as she wrapped the veil around his eyes.
“Good evening Professor.”
He knew that voice. The voice of someone who talked to constantly, who knew too much, who invaded his thoughts most inconsiderately:
“Miss Granger.”
He heard a sharp intake of breath. Obviously the girl had not expected him to guess her identity so soon.
“Hermione” she whispered seductively. The name said in such a way banished all thoughts of the girl as a student from his head. She was no longer a know-it-all Gryffindor; she was a woman, a seductress, a goddess among goddesses. Before he could stop it, a groan came from his lips.
“Hermione.”
He felt her kneel down, brushing apart his cloak to unzip his trousers. He felt her slight hands slip down into his boxers to free his aching cock. The lack of sight seemed to make his other senses all the more vivid, and as she delicately brought her tongue to his tip, he thought he would explode. Slowly she brought his trousers down until they were at his ankles. She brought her head up, and without out a word took the whole of him in her mouth. She pulled back, slightly grazing him with her teeth as she did so, eliciting a gasp from him as she did so. She began to nibble, lick, and suck at him, all the time stroking his inner thighs with her hands. One of her hands moved up to cradle his balls, tugging gently, and making him moan. As soon as it had started it stopped. He sensed her standing, and heard something soft fall to the floor. He knew what it was, without having to think about it.
“Untie me.” He spoke in his silkiest, most commanding of voices. The intake of breath from her caused a smirk from him. Obviously he was not the only one aroused by the events of the evening. Her hesitation caused the smirk to widen.
“10 points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for making me repeat my request. Untie me.”
She moved behind him, and slowly untied his hands. He pulled them from the chair and stood, but before he could bring them up to his blindfold, she captured his elbows and whispered,
“Allow me.”
Pressing her naked body to his half clothed form, she snaked her hands up his torso, bringing them to the back of his head, and untying the knot that she had placed in the material. The veil fell, and he was able to look down on the perfect creature. He realised that her hands were making their way up to the seventh, and final veil. He stopped her, repeating her words.
“Allow me.”
This time, it was his hands that made their way up her body, not being able to resist cupping her breasts on the way up, circling the nipples with his thumbs. The groan that passed her lips urged him to move on, and as his hands passed up her head and removed the final veil, he realised that he did not want this to be a quick fling. In that first moment of looking into her uncovered eyes, he saw in them what he had been ignoring for so long. The girl that he had tried to ignore the brilliance of had become a woman who was his equal in so many ways. Shve ave a small smile and let a most beautiful sound escape her lips.
“Severus.” How was it that he had thought his name so ugly? From her lips it sounded as light as air, delicate and refreshing. He could do nothing but answer her back.
“Hermione.”
They fell into the kiss with an urgent need, grasping at each other’s bodies as if grasping for life itself. He picked her up and carried her through to a side chamber that she had not noticed before. She was so intent on possessing his lips that she did not notice the dark wood furnishings, the wide, lit, fireplace, the soft furnishings, as he carried her through what was obviously into a living room and into a bedroom. He placed her delicately onto a four-poster bed, and was immediately pulled down by her surprisingly strong arms.
“Severus, please.”
He could have no more said no, than survive a death curse. Her voice was his undoing as he stripped of the rest of his clothes and positioned hlf alf at her entrance. He looked into her eyes with a question in his own, and she answered it with one word.
“Yes.”
He thrust into her once, holding his weight on his arms so as to be able to gaze on her she pulled him down and held him, and they stayed like that until he could feel her stirring under him.
“Gods Severus, please, I want you so much.”
How could he deny such a creature? He took her urgently, forcefully, their groans and sighs of pleasure coming together in the air above them. He could not tell who came first, only that they were screaming each other’s names in pleasure, and in the silence that followed his release he thought he heard a little voice whisper,
“I love you.” It was the last thing he heard before he collapsed next to her beautiful form, and sleep overcame him.
“One more night to go. One more night to go.” One more night until he could bid farewell to this years intake of wizarding brats, one more night until his past was finally behind him, one more night until the day when he never had to see Harry bloody Potter again. Was it too much to ask that his past discretions were not brought up time and time again by the mere presence of the saviour of the wizarding world? No matter. This time tomorrow he could rest in peace, safe in the knowledge that he would never again run into Potter and his sidekick Weasley down a darkened corridor. Sidekicks, not sidekick. Why had his brain left out the interminable Miss Granger? He supposed it must be the late night combined with the idiocy of the work he was marking. He bent his head, and growled as he set to work on a particularly bad third-year essay, his mantra returning once more.
“One more night to go, one more night to go.”
***
Three corridors away, there was a strange disturbance in the air, and a voice muttered a curse under her breath.
“Bloody veils.” She knew she couldn’t give up, this was her last chance, she might never again have a reason to return here, and she couldn’t leave without knowing…
Remembering her self-help book, she took up her mantra once more.
“One more night to go. One more night to go.”
***
Severus Snape snapped his neck up as he felt his wards being disabled and his door opened. His brain ran through his list of enemies and those who might potentially want to harm him. Voldemort, Malfoy, Death Eaters, Aurors thinking they might catch the Death Eater that had so long eluded them. Just as quickly, his brain discounted them in order. Defeated, dead, in Azkaban, proved wrong thanks to Dumbledore and his somewhat, revealing, speech just a few months before. No, the sad fact was that after two decades of spying, the person breaking into his office at this very moment was most likely a student. He still could not see them however, though the door was now wide open. There was only one answer. Bloody Potter and his bloody invisibility cloak. He drew his wand to unveil the boy, but before he could, he heard a whispered nox and the lights went out.
Suddenly, music filled the chamber, low, haunting, exotic music. As his eyes adjusted to the nessness he could make out a womanly figure, dressed in draping material that reminded him of veils. The figure started to dance in such a way that made his blood rush straight to his groin. There was no question about it – veils were all she was wearing. His eyes popped and his jaw dropped as the figure removed one of the veils, realising what he was seeing. The Dance of the Seven Veils. He could not see the face, one of the veils cleverly obscuring it, and realised that he had two choices. He could sit back and enjoy the show, knowing that this was a student (surely none of the staff could look that good clad only in bits of thin material?), or he could stop this idiocy before it went to far. He resigned himself to what he knew he must do, but failed in his attempt to reach his wand. It seemed that whilst he had been pondering his moral obligations, the girl had managed to tie his hands together, and fix them to the chair.
Knowing he could not move had a strange effect on Severus Snape. He felt irate, yet at the same time… aroused. He watched the figure as she continued to dance, and felt his cock harden and begin to pulse as she removed a second, a third, and then a fourth veil. She now had only the veil on her face, and two placed in somewhat strategic positions. There was no questioning that the girl had an incredible figure, yet it seemed worryingly familiar. He still could not see the face, his his brain ran through the possibilities. With such a developed figure it had to be a sixth or seventh year student, please not one of his own Sly-. His brain ceased to work as she removed the fifth veil to reveal her pale, separated, rounded breasts, two orbs that seemed to personify heaven itself, each with an already erect centre. The figure moved towards him, and he longed to take one perfectly formed breast in his mouth, to give it the attention it deserved, to suck the nipple, to graze it with his teeth. The figure was still approaching him, the recently removed veil in her hands. She stepped in between his legs, brushing his thigh with her knee. He wished that his hands were free as she bent over him, as she lowered her breasts closer to his mouth… The world went dark as she wrapped the veil around his eyes.
“Good evening Professor.”
He knew that voice. The voice of someone who talked to constantly, who knew too much, who invaded his thoughts most inconsiderately:
“Miss Granger.”
He heard a sharp intake of breath. Obviously the girl had not expected him to guess her identity so soon.
“Hermione” she whispered seductively. The name said in such a way banished all thoughts of the girl as a student from his head. She was no longer a know-it-all Gryffindor; she was a woman, a seductress, a goddess among goddesses. Before he could stop it, a groan came from his lips.
“Hermione.”
He felt her kneel down, brushing apart his cloak to unzip his trousers. He felt her slight hands slip down into his boxers to free his aching cock. The lack of sight seemed to make his other senses all the more vivid, and as she delicately brought her tongue to his tip, he thought he would explode. Slowly she brought his trousers down until they were at his ankles. She brought her head up, and without out a word took the whole of him in her mouth. She pulled back, slightly grazing him with her teeth as she did so, eliciting a gasp from him as she did so. She began to nibble, lick, and suck at him, all the time stroking his inner thighs with her hands. One of her hands moved up to cradle his balls, tugging gently, and making him moan. As soon as it had started it stopped. He sensed her standing, and heard something soft fall to the floor. He knew what it was, without having to think about it.
“Untie me.” He spoke in his silkiest, most commanding of voices. The intake of breath from her caused a smirk from him. Obviously he was not the only one aroused by the events of the evening. Her hesitation caused the smirk to widen.
“10 points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for making me repeat my request. Untie me.”
She moved behind him, and slowly untied his hands. He pulled them from the chair and stood, but before he could bring them up to his blindfold, she captured his elbows and whispered,
“Allow me.”
Pressing her naked body to his half clothed form, she snaked her hands up his torso, bringing them to the back of his head, and untying the knot that she had placed in the material. The veil fell, and he was able to look down on the perfect creature. He realised that her hands were making their way up to the seventh, and final veil. He stopped her, repeating her words.
“Allow me.”
This time, it was his hands that made their way up her body, not being able to resist cupping her breasts on the way up, circling the nipples with his thumbs. The groan that passed her lips urged him to move on, and as his hands passed up her head and removed the final veil, he realised that he did not want this to be a quick fling. In that first moment of looking into her uncovered eyes, he saw in them what he had been ignoring for so long. The girl that he had tried to ignore the brilliance of had become a woman who was his equal in so many ways. Shve ave a small smile and let a most beautiful sound escape her lips.
“Severus.” How was it that he had thought his name so ugly? From her lips it sounded as light as air, delicate and refreshing. He could do nothing but answer her back.
“Hermione.”
They fell into the kiss with an urgent need, grasping at each other’s bodies as if grasping for life itself. He picked her up and carried her through to a side chamber that she had not noticed before. She was so intent on possessing his lips that she did not notice the dark wood furnishings, the wide, lit, fireplace, the soft furnishings, as he carried her through what was obviously into a living room and into a bedroom. He placed her delicately onto a four-poster bed, and was immediately pulled down by her surprisingly strong arms.
“Severus, please.”
He could have no more said no, than survive a death curse. Her voice was his undoing as he stripped of the rest of his clothes and positioned hlf alf at her entrance. He looked into her eyes with a question in his own, and she answered it with one word.
“Yes.”
He thrust into her once, holding his weight on his arms so as to be able to gaze on her she pulled him down and held him, and they stayed like that until he could feel her stirring under him.
“Gods Severus, please, I want you so much.”
How could he deny such a creature? He took her urgently, forcefully, their groans and sighs of pleasure coming together in the air above them. He could not tell who came first, only that they were screaming each other’s names in pleasure, and in the silence that followed his release he thought he heard a little voice whisper,
“I love you.” It was the last thing he heard before he collapsed next to her beautiful form, and sleep overcame him.