The Burning Pen

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

Snippet 17 (HG/SS)
Just a Touch of Lust

Professor Snape was in his office marking class essays when he was disturbed by a pounding on his office door. The pale wizard scowled blackly as he looked up at the time. It was almost nine o’clock at night. True, it was a weekend, but whoever was pounding on his door was taking great liberties…liberties they had no right to take.

His face curled in a snarl, the dark wizard stormed from behind his desk and yanked the door open prepared to dress the offender down. Shock crossed his face when he saw it was no one other than Harry Potter.

Snape hadn’t seen Harry in at least four years, since the death of Voldemort…four very happy and peaceful years. Now the twenty-two year old wizard stood panting and drenched in sweat outside his door, his messy hair sticking up all over his head and green eyes wet and desperate behind his glasses.

”Professor Snape, you have to come!” he cried, grabbing the wizard’s robes around the collar and shaking the Potions Master as if he were insane.

Snape slapped his hands away.

”Are you mad, Mr. Potter? What are you doing?” the wizard hissed, straightening his robes, his black eyes glinting at the wizard.

If Potter dared grab him again, he was going to get knocked right on his ass.

”Please, Professor! It’s Hermione! She’s been poisoned by a potion!” Harry cried.

Snape arched an eyebrow at him, the damn fool. Why would he come all the way to Hogwarts instead of taking the witch to St. Mungo’s? And why to him?

”Poisoned? Why haven’t you taken her to St. Mungo’s you blathering idiot?” Snape snapped at him.

“Be…because of the kind of potion she was poisoned by, sir. It’s…it’s illegal. She’ll end up in Azkaban if anyone finds out what she was brewing,” Harry said, his voice pleading.

Snape hadn’t seen Hermione in about eight months, when she came to a function being held at the school. In the wizard’s estimation the curly-haired witch’s dress was too tight and too revealing, she danced as if she belonged on a stage costumed in nothing but a thong and she drank far too much cider for any decent witch to consume. Hermione was quite the party animal. She was still a rule-breaker too if she were brewing elixirs that could get her locked up for life, the silly chit.

“Well it serves her right, Mr. Potter. She has no respect for the rule of law…brewing a poisonous potion then imbibing it,” he snapped at the wizard.

”But Professor, she didn’t drink it…it got on her skin when I tripped over my robes and bumped the cauldron,” he said, “I…I had to bind her after that…and put a silencing spell on her flat because she wouldn’t stop screaming at me. Please come, Professor! I don’t know what to do! I can’t get Ron because he’s an Auror and bound to report her. I can’t put him in that situation.”

Snape looked at the wizard. There was little Mr. Weasley could do anyway other than take the idiot witch to St. Mungo’s. But the Professor didn’t know of any poison that worked through the skin and allowed someone to be bound, much less scream. Every potion of that nature was usually deadly within seconds. Something was very amiss here.

“Mr. Potter, exactly what did Miss Granger brew?” he asked the wizard.

Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable, then said, “She wasn’t brewing it for herself…but for me, Professor. I begged her to do it for months before she finally gave in.”

Now Snape was truly curious. Why would Harry need poison?

”I didn’t ask for background, Mr. Potter. What did she brew?” the Potions Master snarled at him.

Harry swallowed and muttered something under his breath.

”What? Speak up you fool!” Snape demanded.

“Pallium Diligo potion,” Harry said, wincing a bit.

Snape stared at the young man in amazement.

”Pallium Diligo, the strongest mutual lust potion known to the wizarding world? What was she thinking? Dear gods you Gryffindors are bloody insane,” the Potions Master said.

Pallium Diligo wasn’t poisonous per se, but a person under its influence wouldn’t eat or sleep until they were sexually relieved by a partner. The potion was banned by the Ministry years ago because of its nature. A person would imbibe it, then touch the person he or she desired. It had to be a skin to skin touch however. Both would become inflamed and find someplace quickly to fuck. There was an antidote however, but it had to be self-administered by the person who freely drank the potion in the first place or it wouldn’t work. It couldn’t be forcibly given and the dosage had to be carefully calculated according to a person’s height and weight. And it had to be administered before someone else was touched. Once contact was made with a potential partner…there was no other way to stop the potion’s effects except through intercourse with that partner. But the antidote took eight hours to brew and wasn’t something the Professor kept in his private stores.

“Professor, please help her. She’s screaming at me like crazy to please touch her and to…to…” Harry said, his voice faltering.

Hermione had begged him to have sex with her. She was pretty enough but she was like his sister. Besides, Harry had different tastes sexually and preferred men. He had his sights on one he’d been trying to get next to for the past four years.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco slept with both men and women and was well aware of Harry’s attraction to him…he had been for some time and he enjoyed the power it gave him over the smitten wizard. He teased and tormented Harry unmercifully, even telling him to meet him at motels and other places then not showing up. Harry was completely taken by the wizard to the point his mental health was starting to suffer. He slept over Hermione’s one night and the witch listened to him calling Draco’s name despairingly in his sleep. It was awful, though Harry had no recollection of doing it.

Hermione tried talking to Draco and pleading Harry’s case. Draco snorted.

”Potter? You’ve got to be kidding me. I’d never give him a tumble, Granger. It’s not that he’s ugly or anything like that. I just like him chasing after me,” the pureblood purred as he looked Hermione up and down. She had filled out quite nicely and was very curvaceous under her robes.

”Now, if you were to give me a little trim, Granger…I might consider letting Potter take a ride on my broom or a little dip in the cauldron…but no promises,” he said suggestively, waggling his blonde brows at her.

Draco got a good solid slap for his trouble and brought his hand to his reddened cheek, smirking as Hermione stormed off after saying he was absolutely horrible.

Hell, she already knew that before they talked.

A few months later, unable to stand how Draco was leading Harry around by his cock…Hermione decided to brew the Pallium Diligo potion for her best friend. If it had been anyone other than Draco, she probably wouldn’t have done it. She hoped Harry would ream the pureblood so hard, he wouldn’t be able to walk for days afterwards.

It took five months to create the potion, and Harry provided the galleons for the ingredients which were expensive and some quite rare. Hermione had to go to a few very disreputable apocatheries in Knockturn Alley to get a few of them, carefully checking to see if the ingredients were real before paying for them. The proprietors in that part of town weren’t stellar examples of good marketing practices to say the least.

“Professor…please…please come help. I’ll pay you…I’ve got plenty of money,” Harry said, “I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want her to go to prison.”

Snape looked down his nose at Harry, his eyes narrowing with malice.

”You can always find someone to fuck the witch, Mr. Potter. I imagine she isn’t in the mood to be very discriminating about her choice of partners,” the wizard purred at him, a nasty smirk on his face.

Harry bit back a stinging reply. Snape was still an onerous bastard…but he needed him.

”But why do that when you can give her an antidote? Please Professor? I’ll pay you whatever you ask,” Harry said, pleading with the wizard, his intentions on making good so strong that magic swirled around him, binding him to a wizarding oath.

Snape shook his head as the magic settled.

”Still a fool, Mr. Potter. You are bound to pay me what I wish now. I could ask you for your entire fortune and you would have to give it to me,” the dark wizard said.

”I don’t care. Hermione’s worth every sickle I have,” Harry replied.

Snape looked at him consideringly. Yes, the wizard did mean it. The bonds of his friendship with the witch apparently superseded all else. Only Gryffindors would throw away their entire livelihood for something as fickle and meaningless as friendship. Snape had no friends and did just fine. But he did like galleons.

The Potions Master made a face as he battled between his greed and his desire to make Potter grovel more. Finally greed won out.

”Very well, Mr. Potter. Come in and leave me her address. I will brew the antidote and bring it to her flat,” the wizard said.

“Oh thank you, Professor,” Harry said, relief in his voice as he entered the office and slid the piece of parchment the Potions Master offered him across the desk.

He picked up a self-filling quill out a of cup and scrawled Hermione’s address down. He put the quill back and handed Snape the parchment.

”There you go, Professor…how long before you can help her?” the wizard inquired.

”I will be there in about nine hours. In other words, dawn. You owe me for this. I will not get any sleep tonight,” Snape groused, sticking the address in his robes pocket, “Until that time, keep her bound and the silencing spell on her. She won’t eat or drink, so don’t bother trying to feed her. And for gods’ sakes…don’t touch her or you will fuck her…I assure you. There is no other way to end the potion’s effects unless you have the antidote.”

Harry nodded.

”All right, Professor. We’ll be waiting for you. I’ve got to get back,” the wizard said, offering Snape his hand.

The Potions Master didn’t take it.

Harry let his hand drop then exited the office.

”Bastard,” Harry thought as he hurried up the dungeon corridor. He began to wonder if the Ministry had any Auror openings. Harry led a life of leisure for the most part, the goblins at Gringotts having invested his fortune quite wisely while he attended Hogwarts. He didn’t spend frivolously but had a monthly allowance that did little damage to his savings. Still, he didn’t work.

Harry had a feeling after Snape finished with him he was going to need a job.

**********************************************

”Harry…Harry let me loose,” Hermione cried weakly, struggling against the binding spell that held her in the armchair.

Harry was facing away from her. He couldn’t stand the hungry look in the witch’s eyes. He was glad he left the silencing charm in place so he couldn’t hear her. She had shocked him with the things she said she’d do to him if he’d just let her loose and touch her. If he had been heterosexual…Hermione might have found herself mounted and roundly “cured.” But all her words did to the wizard was make him uncomfortable. Did she say things like that when actually having sex? Good gods.

”Harry, I’m burning up. I NEED A COCK DAMN IT!” the perspiring witch screamed at the top of her lungs, “I want to come!”

Harry didn’t say anything because he didn’t hear Hermione. Actually, after seeing how the potion affected Hermione, he wasn’t so keen on using it now. That was more randy than he wanted to be.

Hermione smelled of pure arousal and Harry cast several freshening spells on her throughout the night, the scent of ready pussy was so powerful. He hoped the Professor would arrive soon.

As soon as this thought manifested, there was a knock on the door. Harry leaped to his feet and ran to the doorway. He opened the door a crack. The Professor scowled at him from the doorstep.

”Open the door, Potter,” he snapped, pushing his way past Harry.

The wizard stopped and sniffed the air, then his eyes fell on Hermione, who was staring at him with heated eyes.

“You’ve gotten yourself in quite a pickle, Miss Granger. I guess the incident with the Polyjuice potion in your second year taught you nothing,” the dark wizard said, then turned, frowning at Harry who was standing so close to him he could have climbed up on his back.

”Mr. Potter, you can go now,” the wizard said.

”Go? What do you mean go?” Harry said, his voice dark.

”I mean precisely what I said,” the Potions Master responded, “I don’t intend to have you staring at me while I treat Miss Granger. Besides, I imagine you are tired. You stood watch and you can go now.”

Harry stood there stubbornly.

”I won’t go. I don’t trust you,” the boy-who-lived said.

Snape narrowed his eyes.

”If you don’t trust me, Mr. Potter, why did you come to me in the first place?” the wizard asked him pointedly.

Harry stared back at him. He knew Snape could keep a secret and that was the primary reason he went to him.  But he wasn't about to tell the snarky wizard that.

Snape already knew.

”I just did,” Harry replied lamely.

”If you want me to treat Miss Granger, then leave. Otherwise…I will,” Snape said, putting down his satchel and folding his arms.

Hermione said something but neither wizard could hear her.

Harry stared at Professor Snape mutinously, then Hermione began struggling and screaming again, almost frothing at the mouth. Harry’s shoulders slumped.

He’d have to go if he wanted Snape to help Hermione.

”You’d better not do anything to her,” Harry said warningly.

“Do not presume to tell me how to do my work, Mr. Potter. I will do what is necessary to cure her and procure my fee,” Snape snapped at him, “Now, you are wasting my time. That is going to cost you.”

Harry looked over at Hermione.

”Bye Hermione. I’ll come by later to check on you,” Harry said, then gave the Potions Master a hateful glare and exited the flat.

Snape wasted no time securely warding the door in case Harry should decide to return. The wizard then turned to face Hermione, flicking his wand and removing the silencing spell. Hermione was silent for the moment, but her breasts were heaving as if she had just put forth a great effort. The scent of her arousal was heavy in the air, very musky and somewhat alluring. With his huge nose, Snape couldn’t help but sniff it in. He shook his head, then opened his satchel and took out a pair of thin black gloves and pulled them on. He then took out a small bottle.

”Touch me, Professor,” Hermione said to the wizard, her voice full of longing, “Touch me, then fuck me.”

Snape turned to face the witch, arching an eyebrow at her.

”I believe this potion allows you to remember everything you say and do in this state after you recover. I can’t wait to see your reaction to asking me to bed you, witch,” he said, “I am sure it will be priceless.”

Hermione let out an unpleasant little laugh.

”I’ve wanted to fuck you since my seventh year,” the witch said brazenly, “I might be embarrassed about telling you, but not about the feelings I have. I’ve had them a long time. I used to masturbate to the thought of your fingers touching my skin, Professor. Just your fingers…”

Snape studied the witch.

”Be that as it may, Miss Granger…I have no intentions on touching your skin with my fingers or any other part of my person,” he replied coldly.

Hermione suddenly let out a scream of rage.

”You want to fuck me! I’d probably be the first witch you’ve fucked in ages that you didn’t have to pay!” she spat vehemently.

For just a moment the Professor thought he wouldn’t mind sticking his fat cock into Hermione’s mouth to shut her up, the little guttersnipe.

“Be quiet, Miss Granger. I have an antidote to the Pallium Diligo potion that’s affecting you. All you have to do is drink it, and your lust will be gone,” he said to her evenly, “Now how much do you weigh?”

Hermione’s comment about him paying for sex stung a bit…because it was true. He used whores because it was next to impossible for him to find a willing witch unless she was drunk at some tavern and didn’t give a damn who she fucked. He was just too dark and dour for most witches’ tastes, not to mention ugly.

Hermione told him her weight as he looked at her consideringly. She was petite, curvaceous and randy. Maybe he should…

No. No. One thing about the Potions Master was when he was called upon to practice his art, he did so. It was a matter of pride with him. Besides, if Potter found out he laid wand to his best friend, not only would he not get paid, but most likely have to blast the wizard out of his boots because of him wanting to duel in a vain attempt to restore Hermione’s tarnished honor.

The Potions Master took out a small blue tumbler from his satchel and carefully added the proper amount of antidote.

”Fuck me!” Hermione screamed at him, “I bet your pudding dick is the size of my pinky finger and that’s why you’re such a bastard to everyone!”

It seemed the witch was pretty tarnished already. What a mouth she had.

“It is no use trying to taunt me into proving my manhood, Miss Granger. I am here to cure you…not stick my purportedly ‘pudding-like’ and ‘pinky-sized’ cock into you,” he said coolly, “Now you listen to me, witch. You have to freely drink the antidote yourself or it will be rendered ineffective. I am going to release you and hand you this glass. If you go for me, I will not hesitate to use force to keep you from coming into contact with me. Am I understood?”

The wizard’s eyes glinted with warning. He was not making an idle threat. He would knock the witch out if necessary.

“Yes, I understand,” the witch said, her amber eyes glinting at him, “Let me loose.”

Snape thought he detected a bit of challenge in the witch’s voice. She was a Gryffindor, but it was clear Hermione was not to be trusted. She was just too randy to think straight. In her lust-ridden mind she probably thought she could take him. He pulled his wand.

“I am going to release you now. Move slowly toward me, witch,” Severus said, his voice tight as he watched her for any indication she was going to do something incredibly stupid.

He released Harry’s binding spell, and Hermione sat there looking at him and licking her lips suggestively until they glistened.

”I give one hell of a blowjob, Professor,” she said softly, her eyes flicking loin-ward, “I spit and everything.”

”Oh shit,” the wizard thought, his mind clouding a bit.

Snape loved blowjobs.

“I hope you use a napkin when you finish,” he replied, trying to hide his reaction, “Now get up slowly.”

He directed her with his wand, which was held at the ready.

Hermione didn’t so much as stand up…she sort of oozed up in one fluid sexual motion, rubbing her hands up and down the side of her thighs, meeting the wizard’s gaze. Suddenly, she sunk to her knees.

”Come on, Professor. Let me suck your cock…I’m all ready,” the witch said, looking up at him, puckering her lips invitingly.

”Succubus,” Snape thought.

”Get up Miss Granger,” he snapped, his voice hard now, “The only thing you’ll be sucking on is this glass. Now up with you!”

Hermione’s eyes hardened and she stood up sullenly and stuck out her hand.

“Give it here then you poor excuse for a wizard,” she hissed, her face contorting.

Snape handed Hermione the glass. Her eyes narrowed, she tilted it to her lips, the wizard’s wand arm relaxing as she drank it down.

”Be sure to drink down all of the contents of the glass. Leave nothing,” he directed.

Hermione looked at him over the rim. The Potions Master, for all his sharpness made a grievous error in giving Hermione a glass that wasn’t clear. The witch didn’t finish the drink, but left a little in the bottom, letting herself appear to relax…still holding the glass.

“How do you feel?” Snape asked her.

”Much better, thank you,” Hermione replied.

The wizard nodded. Apparently the antidote had worked. He pocketed his wand and reached for the glass as Hermione held it out. Suddenly, she let it slip through her fingers, the glass shattering on the floor, the bit of liquid within spreading.

The wizard was distracted by the crash and the sight of the unconsumed antidote. He didn’t pull back fast enough as Hermione slipped her hand under the loose sleeve of his robes grasped his arm above the glove line on his wrist, coming in contact with the wizard’s skin. Appalled, Snape ripped his arm out of her hand.

”You little minx! You touched me!” he hissed at her, rubbing his touched flesh as if he could wipe her touch away.

”Yes, and now you’re going to touch me,” the witch said triumphantly.

Snape stared at her, his eyes hard as lust began to take him over.

”I can’t believe you did this,” he hissed at her as his robes began to tent.

Hermione pulled her wand out of her robes pocket and divestoed her robes. The Potions Master’s eyes drifted over her body, his desire for the witch taking him over. Suddenly, he grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder, striding for the sofa.

”Pudding dick?” he breathed, tossing the witch down and divestoing his own clothing, then scrambling over her body, and moving behind her…not giving her a chance to take a good look at his goods.

”You want to be fucked, witch? I will accommodate you…but you will explain to Mr. Potter how you brought this on yourself,” he hissed.

“Stop talking,” Hermione hissed back at him, “Fuck, damn you.”

The witch gasped as the pale wizard grasped her roughly, lifting her leg and pushing the head of his thick cock between her thighs.

”Pinky-sized? Perhaps a full grown mountain troll’s pinky,,” he breathed as he rammed his lust-swollen organ into the witch’s sleeve roughly.

Hermione howled with surprise and pleasure as he filled her.

”Oh my gods, Professor!” she cried out as he began thrusting hard and deep, his hardness delicious as it parted her flesh over and over, the witch’s mouth opening and closing in time with his strokes, “Dear Merlin!"

”Stop talking," he hissed, "Fuck, damn you.”
 

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