Between the Covers

Between the Covers

By Imhilien


Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns these characters, not I.


A/N: I couldn’t resist writing this lemony one-shot based on the humorous WIKTT ‘Passionate Trousers’ challenge. Gentle readers should be warned that the sugary content of this story will probably be more hazardous to you than the lemon part (grin). I don’t usually write PWP’s but I hope you enjoy it...


* * * * *

A plain yet spirited woman in her mid-twenties, Hermione was sitting at her desk (a neat and reasonably tidy one of course) busily grading her papers from her Arithmancy class when, without bothering to knock, Snape swept into her office. There was an overwhelming look of smug triumph on his sallow face as if all of his Christmases had just come at once, especially the kind that would benefit Slytherins more than they did Gryffindors.

It was obvious that the Potions Master was in a certain mood. Resisting the strong temptation to inform him of the etiquette of actually knocking before coming into her office, Hermione nevertheless lifted her head and put a deliberately polite expression on her face.

“So far this has been a day that I will remember for a long time,” he immediately announced with that same smug expression on his face. Knowing Snape as she did, this was perhaps a bad thing………..

He withdrew a tiny something from a pocket, which after an uttered spell became a book in his hand. While this was hardly an unusual circumstance what was unusual was the lurid purple cover the book was boasting.

“Look at this,” he said mockingly as he swept towards her desk and tossed the book upon it.

“It looks as though I will have to,” Hermione retorted as she picked up the book. Her mouth twitched slightly though as she looked at the cover, which featured the picture of a scantily-clad blonde woman (well-endowed in a way that fairly screamed ‘enhancement charm’) who was looking coyly at a handsome, dark-haired man.

Hermione thought though that he looked like the type of man who would be good at rescuing helpless females, but his handsome brow would probably furrow if you told him to take out the trash and then mow the lawn afterwards. The picture was a ‘moving’ one and Hermione saw the blonde clasp her pale hands together adoringly while Handsome!Guy adopted a heroic pose, an unseen breeze fluttering his shirt (which had been ‘ripped’ to show off his tanned chest). The title of the book in gold lettering was ‘Flames of Passion II – A Wild, Dark Love!’

“Is this book a personal recommendation of yours?” Hermione inquired sweetly of Snape.

Many people would go out of their way *not* to annoy Professor Snape, but Hermione cheerfully had no such qualms in sharpening her wit against his sarcasm.

“This putrid, degenerate excuse for…….literature was personally confiscated by myself from a…….Gryffindor student this morning,” Professor Snape said in the self-satisfied way of a man of the cloth having personally rooted out ‘sin’ from his parish.

“Which only goes to show,” (and here he paused as if to personally savour every moment of what he was doing) “how hedonistic and debased the average tastes of your precious Gryffindors are,” he purred. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Hermione restrained the urge to bang her head against the desk. If a Gryffindor student put a single foot out of line, you could be sure that Professor Snape would find out about it. And gloat. And then tell her of course – he must have thought he had hit pay dirt today.

“So, what you’re trying to say that this is the kind of book that no Slytherin would ever be caught with?” Hermione managed to counter in an even tone.

Snape sneered down at her. “No Slytherin would ever be caught reading this……trash.”

“Surely it can’t be that bad,” Hermione commented, repressing a sigh as she picked up the book. Handsome!Guy flashed her a grin with blinding white teeth as she did so, while Blondie folded her arms and pouted in an attractive way.

Hermione flipped the book open at a random page and read a few lines. She found herself snickering despite herself. Really, the writing was not only bad, it was bad in a way that made it funny. No serious writer would ever write like this and give themselves the tacky name of ‘Delia Dimplelove’ (in gold lettering of course) – it was as if someone like Professor Trelawney had written it while being on a serious sugar high.

“What is it that you find so amusing?” Professor Snape snapped, clearly irritated that she wasn’t reacting the way he had thought.

Hermione glanced at him, her brown eyes full of barely-suppressed mirth. “Have you actually looked at this?”

There was a glint in Snape’s black eyes.

“Are you suggesting that I would actually lower myself to read such…….filth?” he sneered.

Hermione composed herself and made an effort to appear the serious, level-headed teacher that she was.

“No, of course you haven’t,” she agreed blandly. “Wouldn’t. Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention and I’m sure you have more important work to do.”

“You still haven’t answered my question,” he said through gritted teeth.

“What question?” Hermione said, appearing puzzled.

Snape put his hands on her desk and leaned over until his face was only inches from her own, his black hair hanging like curtains over his sallow features.

“I want to know what it is you find so amusing!” he said with precise, silky menace.

Well, he was asking for it now, Hermione thought in sudden gleefulness.

“If you insist,” she said equably before getting up with the book and moving around her desk, making the Potions Master feel obliged to stand up properly and face her, a suspicious look on his face.

“This book has to be read to be believed, if you will let me demonstrate,” Hermione said sweetly before she turned the pages until she found a section that would make the Slytherin squirm in his black robes. Ah yes, here was a good section.

She began reading in a dulcet tone to him.

“Her pulse beating like a stampede of wild, untamed horses, Eriane Starlove gazed with adoration with her bluebell-blue eyes at her handsome rescuer, Lord Raven Stormblood, he who had saved her from a barbarous end at the hands of white slavers.”

Hermione darted a glance at Snape, and noticed that a facial tic on his face was starting to well, ‘tic’.

She smiled to herself and continued.

“Although Eriane’s innocent heart had sworn that she would remain chaste and pure until marriage, her body was now afire with previously forbidden longings that surged through her eager blood.”

Snape made an odd choking noise but Hermione cheerfully ignored it.

“Eriane longed to press her shapely limbs against his, for she craved passionate fulfilment in a way she could not explain!”

“Stop reading this book this instant!” Snape barked, his face having turned an interesting shade of puce.

Hermione ignored his words too and continued.

“Lord Raven Stormblood looked down at the fair maiden he had saved without nary a scratch to his tanned skin. Her wide-eyed innocence and awe-inspiring loveliness stirred his blood like no wench had ever before, and he vowed on his very sword that he would claim her sweet lushness for his own!”

“I said stop it this instant!” the Potions Master snapped and then he strode forward and tearing the book from Hermione’s hands he threw it to the floor. Then he grabbed her and pushed her against the wall, holding her wrists on either side of her head, imprisoning her. Then he glowered down at her, his body hard against her own.

“What ghastly drivel – ‘sweet lushness’ indeed,” he growled. “I could write a better book in my sleep.” Then he bent his head and kissed her mouth fiercely, demanding a response from her.

Her blood suddenly feeling eager like that of the fictional Eriane, Hermione met his kisses with her own heated ones and Snape released his hold upon her hands, freeing her to wind her arms around his neck.

He lifted his head eventually. “Remind me again why I married you, you infuriating Gryffindor,” he grumbled though there was a gleam in his black eyes.

“I’m sure I will think of a good reason shortly,” Hermione smiled, though it was hard to concentrate with her amorous husband currently pressing her against a wall like a hormonal teenager.”

“You couldn’t resist coming here and doing your ‘Arrogant Dungeon Bat’ act when you confiscated that particular book, could you?” she nevertheless chided.

Severus smirked at her before he bent his head to nuzzle her neck. “It was too good an opportunity to pass up, and you were playing along as well, weren’t you? You knew full well what reading that sappy nonsense would do to my……..deprived libido,” he purred.

“After last night? Don’t you have a class coming up soon?” Hermione said severely, though there was a gleam in her eyes as she ran a hand through his black hair. Her hips shifted against his to find relief from the growing tingle between her legs.

She was rewarded with a growl from her husband and a definitely hard pressure against her belly. He lifted his head and there was a simmering look in his black eyes that made her heart skip a beat. “Double Potions with Gryffindors – for that helpful reminder a…….reprimand is in order, don’t you think?” he said silkily. “Besides, the twits can wait,” he added as his hands slid purposely down her body, knowing where she loved to be touched…...enjoying the sound of her moans in response.

Despite his desire Severus managed to put a Silencing charm on the room and a Ward charm upon the door and then he swiftly lifted her robes and divested her of her panties.

“Is this what you want?” he growled against her ear as he dipped his hand into her curls, groaning at the feel of her damp warmth against his fingers that made his trousers feel even more confining for him.

“Yes,” Hermione gasped, instinctively parting her legs to allow his hand further access.

“And this?” he continued in a husky tone as he freed himself from his trousers, and after lifting her and wrapping her legs around his hips he sought and then plunged into her heat.

“Yes!” Hermione moaned, wrapping her legs even more tightly around him, feeling her back bumping against the wall as he thrust into her repeatedly.

“A bit to the left,” she mumbled as she rocked with him and he complied, making her body quiver as she felt the familiar, soaring pressure build up within her.

Severus could feel his wife starting to convulse around him and he locked his black eyes with her brown, amazed anew at the love and desire he saw within her eyes. It was for him, always and only for him.

“Come for me Hermione……….let me hear you come,” he breathed against her mouth as he continued to pound into her like a man possessed.

Hermione felt herself convulse one last time and she cried out his name as she came, shuddering against him. Severus felt himself driven to the point of madness by the sound and feel of her pleasure, and after thrusting hard once, twice and then again into her Severus shouted her name as he climaxed.

Dazed and sated, they then lost their balance and fell ungraciously to the floor, with Hermione landing on top of her husband with a surprised “oof”.

When she regained her breath she peeped down at him and saw that his black eyes were an intense black as he looked up at her, a faint smile of a well-satisfied male on his face.

Hermione leaned down to kiss him tenderly and he kissed her back, feeling that it was no great hardship at the moment to be lying underneath his wife while he regained his strength.

They eventually decided to untangle themselves and helped each other up while the couple on the cover of ‘Flames of Passion II – A Wild, Dark Love!’ smiled knowingly at each other (feeling inclined to forgive Severus for throwing the book on the floor).

Severus tidied both of their robes and then looked smug when he picked the book up from the floor, determined to have the last say. “You will have to admit though that Gryffindor tastes are, shall we say, adventurous?” he said silkily.

Hermione smiled to herself and crossed over to her desk. “I suppose so.”

“However,” she said lightly as she pulled open a drawer and pulled out another lurid purple book with the title “Flames of Passion I – A Savage, Sweet Love!” upon it, “I’m sure the Slytherin student I confiscated this book from this morning will be glad to know a second book was written.”

The expression on his face, Hermione thought, was priceless.


FINIS