A Secret Fantasy

A/N: This plot bunny has been beating me over the head for months, I swear. I’ve been trying to fight it off, but it just won’t go away. I can’t believe I’ve written this, and I can’t even write this under my usual nom de plume, as I’m not sure I could show my face in the fandom ever again. But, such as it is, I hope some might like it. This will have three chapters at most, although they are short.

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Severus Snape lay in bed, staring up at the canopy of his bed. The light circles being traced over his abdomen by the mid-twenties, bushy-haired woman in his bed should have had the effect of relaxing, or arousing him, but he just couldn’t get the thought out of his head. It was something he’d always wanted to do…something he’d always wanted to experience, but had never really entertained actually doing so.

It was illogical, most people would probably find it disgusting, even he thought the idea was decidedly odd at the very least. He couldn’t rationalise it, he couldn’t quantify it, he could think of nothing in his history, either as a child or an adult that could have triggered such an unusual desire. But, the very thought of it…of actually doing it, generally made him hard. It would have made him hard now, if he hadn’t just spent himself making love to Hermione for the third time that evening.

But now…now he was contemplating bringing the subject up. Since he and Hermione had been seeing each other, they had tried all sorts of interesting kinks. He had a penchant for tying her up and spanking her, she had indulged him and had expressed that she enjoyed it too. She’d shared once, nearly six months before, and only after much coaxing on his part to roust the secret from her, that she had a secret fantasy of having him suckle milk from her breasts. It hadn’t taken long to concoct a Potion to induce lactation, and he had happily obliged her fantasy…the memory of tasting the sweet, warm milk from her breasts, the slight tang of cardamon and anise from the previous nights Indian dinner made him smile momentarily, before his thoughts went back to wondering if he should say what it was he wanted to do.

“Severus, if you keep glaring, you’ll burn a hole in the canopy,” Hermione said gently. “Something on your mind?”

“Merely the latest dunderhead in Potions,” he said dismissively. “He may end up rivalling Longbottom in cauldron melting records.”

“I see…are you sure that’s it?” she asked. He glanced over to look at her, noting the disbelieving look on her face. Hermione could detect quite well when he wasn’t being entirely truthful with her.

“It is nothing.” He stared back up at the ceiling, gritting his teeth. It was silly…she would never go for it. She would be disgusted by the very prospect.

“Severus, please, tell me what’s wrong. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Oh Hermione, you could, but I doubt you would. “It is no matter, nothing of importance.”

“Hmm,” she muttered noncommittally, and resumed tracing small circles over his chest and abdomen. He closed his eyes, imagining the possibility of telling her, of her acceptance and cooperation in his desire…but the image quickly changed to what might really happen…her look of disgust; an insult, possibly, perhaps even never seeing her again. No, he couldn’t…he should content himself with what she had already accepted. He reached an arm out, and Hermione adjusted to lay her head on his shoulder as he pulled her close, tracing reciprocal circles along her shoulder and back. She had already brought so much peace and joy to his previously dark and bitter life, he didn’t want to do anything that would drive her away, or cause her to look on him with disgust rather than love and acceptance.

Several long minutes passed as the grandfather clock ticked, filling the silence with it’s vibratory echo, counting off the seconds tirelessly.

“Severus, what is it?” she asked again, quietly. “I thought we were able to share anything with each other.”

“Some things are better left unsaid.”

“Something from your past?” she wondered.

Severus swallowed, wishing to tell her. “Some things are simply…too…no, too much to ask. It was just a momentary thought, and nothing more. Not something I would not pursue.”

Silence hung between them again, their fingers seeming to follow the rhythm of the tick-tick of the second hand of the grandfather clock. “Don’t you think I can decide if something is too much to ask?”

“Usually, yes. But, not this. Drop the subject, Hermione, I will not speak of it,” he said sternly.

“Is it…perhaps, a fantasy, Severus?” Hermione asked. Severus gritted his teeth, his grip on her shoulder momentarily tightening. “I remember…the time I finally told you about my fantasy. I was scared you’d think I was sick or something. Actually, I was stupid enough to tell Ron, back when we were dating just after graduating from Hogwarts. His reaction was enough that I vowed to forget about it, and never tell anyone again, no matter how much I thought I trusted them. But, I’m glad I told you.”

“There is nothing unnatural about breasts functioning to produce milk, even if a baby isn’t the recipient of said milk,” he said shortly.

“Ahh, so something you think would be unnatural then?” Hermione guessed, propping herself up on an elbow to look down at his face. “Severus, whatever it is, I promise I won’t laugh.”

Severus’s jaws clenched rhythmically. Why couldn’t she just drop it as he’d asked? He continued to say nothing, hoping she would take the hint and shut up about it. He’d already said too much. After a few moments, she sighed, and rested her head back onto his shoulder. Relieved, he continued stroking her back, telling himself he would never, ever say anything that might lead her to pry again.

*****

He thought she’d forgotten, it had been several weeks, and they continued to see each other on their regular nights. He so looked forward to the weekends, and Tuesdays. Tuesdays were nice. Weekends were better, he could spend the entire weekend with her in most cases, with the exception of Quidditch match weekends, and Hogsmeade weekends, or the occasional emergency at Hogwarts. But, three weeks after his near disastrous slip, they lay in bed together again after a night of wonderful sex. He’d thought about making her the lactation Potion again, it was a short term Potion, the effects only lasting a day or two, but then that might remind her of what he didn’t want to say.

So, in her darkened bedroom, as he held her, he thought she had drifted off to sleep until she spoke. “Whatever it is, Severus, even if I don’t say yes, I promise I won’t think any less of you if you tell me. You never know until you ask.”

“Hermione,” he groaned. “I thought you had dropped the subject.”

“It was obviously important to you; and if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me.”

He lay still for several long moments before heaving up, pushing her over on her stomach and laying over her. “I see…and what if I do share this…thing with you, and you then find me repulsive?” he asked in a dangerous whisper. Hermione, who was used to his mood shifts when something bothered him, didn’t flinch from him or become frightened at his sudden change.

“I won’t do that,” she said evenly. “I promise, I won’t. Whatever it is, I promise I will give serious consideration to assisting you in as well, just like you did for me.”

Severus clutched tightly at her shoulders, his knees straddled her thighs. Would she really do that? “And, let’s say you might agree to this, and then afterwards you hate me for it?”

“Does it involve injury?” she asked.

“No, it doesn’t. I wouldn’t ask you to do anything that would hurt you.”

“Then…does it involve…um, people watching us?”

“Of course not,” he said, growing agitated.

“Animals?” she questioned, the tone of her voice revealing to him that she hoped that wasn’t it.

“Absolutely not.”

“Is it something unsanitary?”

He paused a moment before answering: “Technically; no.”

“Technically?” she queried.

Severus sighed and his head drooped to rest on her shoulder. “Depending on how it is done…but, Hermione, just forget it, please. It’s ridiculous, and I doubt you would enjoy it.”

“Is it something I’ve mentioned before I wouldn’t enjoy?”

“No…I’ve never heard you mention it at all.”

“I see then. Severus, we can keep playing twenty questions, or you could just tell me what it is. If I don’t want to do it, I’ll say so, but I’m not going to think you’re a horrible person. As it is, you’re just driving me a little nuts here. Just tell me, it can’t be that bad, can it?”

Severus gripped her shoulder tightly, his forehead still resting in the crook of her neck. It would be so easy to just say it…just let it out…but then, it really was ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. She would probably say no, but if she didn’t say no it might be worth it.

“I want…” he began, but faltered. “I want…to…”