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 21

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Snippet 21 ~ A Surprise in the Upper Corridors

Professor Snape, gaunt and sallow, made his way quietly down the upper corridor of Hogwarts castle, looking for rule breakers. It was the weekend and he was making rounds after curfew. He could always count on at least catching one randy couple copulating like pups in some dark niche or empty classroom.

His face curtained by shoulder-length, greasy black hair, his cold, black eyes darted from side to side, glittering, seeking signs of movement as he listened intently for the sounds of offending students playing at adulthood. His lips held in a thin, tight line, he prowled, robes silently billowing. His over-large, sensitive nostrils pulsated as they scented the air for the telltale aroma of sex. He loved that scent although he did not experience it for himself as often as he would like. When he crept up on his victims, he often watched for several moments before breaking them apart, part voyeur, part authoritarian.

He heard a noise and paused, then pressed close to the wall, slinking forward, his eyes predatory. The sound came from behind a closed door. Behind that door was a room that wasn’t utilized. He knew it contained only a desk, chairs and cobwebs. The Potions master eased forward, listening intently.

It was a witch’s voice, rising and falling rhythmically, clearly in the throes of pleasure. Snape stopped outside the door, his pale face slightly contorted as he listened to the soft cries. The little fools. Didn’t they think to at least place a Silencing spell on the room to conceal their lurid acts?

Obviously not.

”Oh yes, yes Professor,” the voice gasped.

Snape’s brows rose in surprise. Professor? Was there a staff member shagging a student behind that door? The wizard quickly took a mental tally of potential male teachers who could commit such an act.

Professor Binns was a ghost, so it couldn’t have been him. Perhaps Flickwick? Or maybe Hagrid, although Snape was relatively sure a lot more noise would have been evident if that were the case. The half-giant was huge. Unless he was endowed like his father, who had been a normal wizard. His giant ancestry came from his mother’s side.

”Harder, Professor,” the voice urged. “Fuck me harder!”

Snape stiffened as he caught the familiar timbre of it. No. No, it couldn’t be. Not her. Not the Princess of Gryffindor getting reamed in some abandoned classroom by a randy Professor. Dear gods, what a coup this would be! Imagine, catching Hermione Granger in the act of fornication with a staff member of Hogwarts. It was like . . . like Christmas. Better than Christmas actually, since Snape didn’t celebrate the holiday.

Slowly, carefully, Snape placed his long, pale fingers on the doorknob, clasping it firmly then turning it quietly, the latch disengaging with a quiet click. The sounds of pleasure inside didn’t stop. The witch was unaware of his approach.

Snape eased the door open, his black eyes narrowed in triumph as he eased his head inside to witness the witch’s shame. Those eyes widened at the sight that met him.

A single torch burned in a sconce on the far wall, shedding a warm light over the empty room. In front for him was a large teacher’s desk. A number of chairs were scattered about. Moonlight was diffused by the single dusty paned window.

Lying on her back on top of the desk was indeed Hermione Granger, but . . . the witch was alone except for a bullet-shaped silver dildo, which she was utilizing. She was dressed in her school uniform, a white blouse, scarlet and gold skirt folded back over her thighs. Her feet were clad in white trainers and ankle socks, her robes and knickers discarded on the floor as she laid on her back, working the dildo in and out of herself, her arching body in profile, her eyes closed as she writhed and gasped.

Snape’s eyes glinted as he observed the randy witch fucking herself, and he quietly closed the door behind him. She had come here to fantasize and masturbate. Was she so uptight about her sexuality she couldn’t do this in the privacy of her room at Gryffindor tower? And who was she fantasizing about?

Probably that idiot Lockhart, or maybe even Lupin.

Snape’s lip curled at the thought of that as he watched Hermione, unable to see the complete penetration because one leg was bent. Yet, her skin was glistening with perspiration and the scent of her arousal filled the air, musky, sweet and alluring. Snape’s mouth watered despite himself and he slunk closer, moving to the side so he could see more clearly. He managed to position himself directly in front of her without her knowledge.

His nostrils flared as he saw Hermione’s soft, brown pubic hair curling at her apex, and the sweet, pink pucker of her sex as she buried the silver shaft between her thighs, her clit hardened and erect as she manipulated one breast through her blouse, her pelvis thrusting.

”Oh yes. Yes, Professor Snape. Take me! Take me!” the witch gasped.

For the second time tonight, Snape stiffened, unable to believe what he heard issue from the young witch’s mouth. Him? She was fantasizing about fucking him? Hogwarts’ brightest student wanted Hogwarts’ most hated and despised teacher to give her the high hard one?

Merlin. What was wrong with her?

Suddenly Hermione let out a cry and stiffened for a moment, then began to moan as she climaxed, the dildo becoming streaked with thick white cream.

”Yes! Yes!” she cried, her pelvis winding now as pleasure streamed through her.

”You’re so good, Professor,” she sighed, her breasts rising and falling as she finally relaxed.

Snape stood there, his face contorted and hand reflexively rising to touch his hardened cock straining against his trousers beneath his robes. His black eyes rested on the come-covered dildo now resting against the witch’s core and he was filled with lust.

“And just how would you know how good I am, Miss Granger?” he purred in a somewhat raw, yet still silken voice.

Startled, Hermione lifted herself up on her elbows and stared at the Potions master, horror on her face, which turned a bright crimson. She quickly pulled the dildo away from her core and closed her legs. Oh gods, he was here and what was worse . . . he saw her. What she had done.

”Professor Snape,” she said weakly.

”The same,” he replied, one brow arching.

Hermione started to sit up.

”Don’t move, Miss Granger,” he snarled at the witch.

Hermione froze as the wizard walked up to the end of the desk, standing before her and looking down at her clamped legs for a moment before slowly letting his eyes drift up her body and rest on her face. Hermione stared back at him, at his thin frame covered in severe black robes, the high collar encircling his pale neck, Adam’s apple large and apparent. His long, oily black hair was parted down the center and framed his sallow, angular face. His long, hooked nose was slightly wrinkled and his mouth held tightly as he looked at her, his expression unfathomable as his black eyes gleamed. Slowly, he reached toward her . . .

Hermione flinched despite the deliberate slowness of the Potion master’s movement. Her heart began to pound as she felt him grasp the hand that held the dildo, then he took it from her, drawing it close to his face and examining it, his nostrils flaring as he did so. He ran a long, thin finger down the side of it, collecting her release on his fingertip, then sniffed it, his eyes suddenly narrowing. Then he stuck his finger into his mouth, tasting her.

His mouth quirked slightly.

“You are out after curfew, Miss Granger,” the wizard said to the witch, throwing her for a loop. This was not what she had expected him to say. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for a response.

”Y. . .yes sir,” the Gryffindor replied, her voice quavering.

”I shall have to report where I found you and what you were doing,” the dark wizard said, amusement in his eyes now. “The Headmaster requires written detailed remarks on those students who have been caught blatantly breaking school rules.”

Again, Hermione looked horrified.

“Please, Professor . . . please don’t report this. I’d die,” Hermione begged him.

Snape smirked at her, waving the dildo slightly as he did so.

”I highly doubt reporting your little masturbation session will result in your demise, Miss Granger, although the subject of your ardor will most likely raise a few eyebrows,” he responded, his eyes glittering.

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears.

”Please, don’t tell, Professor. I’ll do anything. Serve detention until the end of the year. Brew your minor potions. Be your assistant. Anything. Please,” she implored him.

Snape stared down at Hermione, enjoying her distress and her pleading. His eyes flicked downward at her curly pubic hair, then back to her face.

”Anything?” he asked her, honey dripping from his voice.

“Yes,” she breathed, a bit of hope in her eyes now.

Snape didn’t speak for several minutes as he studied the witch.

“It appears from what I’ve witnessed here, Miss Granger, that you have a great physical attraction to me, at least . . . in your mind,” the wizard said to her silkily. “I originally thought you were in this room being shagged by a staff member when I heard you. Imagine my surprise when I heard you gasping my name.”

Hermione colored, but didn’t respond. Snape arched an eyebrow at her.

”I am not fantasy material, Miss Granger. There is nothing remotely appealing about me and I treat you less than amicably. Why do you fantasize about me?” he asked the witch.

”I . . . I don’t know,” Hermione said quietly.

Snape scowled at her.

”You do know, and you will either tell me or face the Headmaster,” the wizard snarled.

The idea of facing the Headmaster with his knowledge that she was discovered masturbating with the name Snape on her lips was unbearable, although she was sure the Headmaster would handle the situation delicately. Still, she didn’t want to go through the embarrassment. She looked at Snape with wet eyes.

”It’s because . . . because I know you would never want me,” she said tremulously.

Snape stared at her.

”Clarify that statement, Miss Granger,” he said softly, his eyes once again dropping to her exposed thighs and the soft nest between them.

”Every wizard at Hogwarts my age wants to shag, and they really don’t care what witch they do it with. They’re all like mindless, rutting hippogriffs, ruled by their . . . their wands. You’re not like that,” she said to him.

Snape’s mouth curled slightly.

”And how do you know that, Miss Granger?” he asked her. “How do you know I’m not like a rutting hippogriff as well, given the opportunity?”

Hermione looked at him.

”I don’t know, Professor, but I don’t think you’d be attracted to me that way. You’ve made it very clear you despise Gryffindor house and you’ve never treated me nicely,” she said to the dark wizard.

”My point exactly, Miss Granger. Still, I watched you masturbate to the idea of me shagging you. I believe you have a bit of a dark twist in your nature, witch. It seems to me you long to be . . . abused . . . taken advantage of by someone you deem cold, cruel and unscrupulous,” he breathed at her, his pale face twisting. “Who have you been with? Who took your virginity?”

Hermione blinked up at him.

”Tell me,” he hissed.

“No one. I haven’t been with anyone yet,” Hermione admitted, looking away from the wizard.

Snape was stunned.

”You lie,” he snarled at her, although he could tell the witch wasn’t lying. He had taught Hermione long enough to know when she was being less than truthful.

Hermione turned her face back toward him.

”No, I’m not. Ron tried, but I didn’t want to do it with him, or anyone I knew . . . but, but I had feelings . . . urges. So I bought a toy to use,” she said, “I thought it would be just as good and I wouldn’t risk anyone talking about me, telling anyone.”

Snape shook his head slightly.

“There is no substitute for the real thing, Miss Granger. Pushing an inanimate object in and out of yourself may be pleasurable but is nothing like having a living, breathing partner. You’ve gained no knowledge or experience from this. You’re still a virgin despite your lack of a hymen,” he said to her, his dark eyes heating up.

Hermione didn’t respond. She didn’t know what to say to the wizard as she looked up at him. Gods, what was he going to do?

Snape stared down at her, then looked at the dildo he held in his hand, her release drying on it. He looked back at Hermione.

”If you do exactly as I say, Miss Granger, no one need ever know what I’ve witnessed tonight or that you have broken curfew,” he said to the witch with deceptive softness.

Hermione nodded her head in compliance.

”You will reveal to no one what happens between us tonight, Miss Granger. You are both right and wrong about me sexually. I rarely indulge myself with sex because of a lack of willing partners. I am not an attractive man. There are a number of female Death Eaters that would engage me, but I am not interested in them. They’re all whores who will suck and fuck any cock connected to the Dark Lord. That does nothing for me. Normally, you would not either, but I am a man, Miss Granger, a man who witnessed for himself a young witch masturbating with my name on her lips. A young witch who lies knickerless on a desk before him. Do you think me so cold as to not respond to that?” he asked her as he pulled out his wand and cast a Silencing spell on the room as well as a secure ward to keep anyone from entering. He put the wand back into his pocket.

“Besides,” the wizard purred at her, “taking one of the Golden Trio and Gryffindor’s pride and joy has a certain allure that appeals to my less than stellar side. Now, lie down and open your legs, Miss Granger. I am going to solve a great mystery as well as fulfill a fantasy for you. You will have your Potions master.”

“You mean, you’re actually going to . . . “ Hermione breathed at him, her eyes wide.

”Yes,” he replied impatiently. “In a bit. For now, witch, lie down on your back, open your blouse and pull up your brassiere so I can see what nature has gifted you with.”

Her belly churning, Hermione lay down as the wizard instructed, everything taking on an unrealistic air as she unbuttoned her blouse, Snape’s black eyes watching her fingers intently as they parted the fabric, revealing her bra-encased breasts. Hermione took a breath then pulled her bra up, her full breasts appearing in full view, the brown tips puckered and hardened. Snape eyed them, but made no attempt to touch her tantalizing globes.

”Very nice,” he breathed, resting one hand gently on her thigh, Hermione quaking at the contact of his warm palm lightly clutching her flesh as he pulled it, spreading her. The wizard’s face contorted and he licked his lips as her scent wafted up to him, his nostrils visibly pulsating. He looked into her eyes as he brought the dildo down, running it between her labia and over her clit slowly.

”Oh gods,” Hermione breathed as she felt it.

”A little . . . preparation,” the wizard said. “It will be different to have another controlling your pleasure. Spread your legs wider.”

Hermione did so and closed her eyes against the intensity in the wizard’s gaze.

”Look at me!” Snape hissed, “I want to see your eyes.”

Hermione opened her eyes and forced herself to look at Snape as he lowered the bullet-shaped toy to her core and slowly slid it inside her. Hermione let out a moan as the cold dildo entered her. Snape stared at the witch, slowly rotating the sex toy inside her, the witch groaning at the sensation. She had never used it in such a manner and the wizard was gently stretching her in ways she hadn’t experienced before.

Snape stifled a groan as he manipulated the toy inside the pretty witch, drawing it back and pushing it deeper inside her, finding a slow, gentle rhythm. Hermione began to sigh and gasp, her eyes closing as the dark wizard pleasured her. Snape reached between her thighs with his other hand and began manipulating her swollen clit, Hermione letting out a squeal, her eyes flying open as he expertly tweaked her, not letting up on the steady stroke of the dildo, his eyes narrowed as she began to whirl her pelvis helplessly.

”Yesss, that’s how I want you to move when I’m inside you,” he breathed at the witch, pinching her clit lightly, Hermione letting out another squeal between sighs and moans. Gods, this felt amazing and she was too caught up in the sensations to be remotely ashamed of her responses.

The dildo was glistening with Hermione’s juice now, the Potions master keeping up his gentle rhythm, speeding up one moment, slowing the next, whirling the toy inside the witch, urging her on as her voice became shriller and shriller as he occasionally suckled her juices from his fingers. Hermione began to quake, her eyes starting to roll up into her head. The Potions master quickly removed the dildo, backing up and kneeling, placing his head between her thighs, Hermione letting out an anguished cry as he parted her and ran his tongue over her soft, heated flesh, tickling her intimately as he savored her taste, a low growl of pleasure rising from him as his left hand started working on the buttons to his robes.

“Oh my gods, Professor,” Hermione cried out, her hands grasping his long lank hair in two fistfuls as she yanked him against her core fitfully, the feel of his mouth and tongue laving her taking her over the edge. She had never felt anything like this, anything!

“Wanton,” the Professor thought as he slid his long tongue inside her, feeling her sleeve tighten around it momentarily before her hot juices exploded over it, wetting his face as she climaxed with a cry. He shrugged out of his robes, never leaving her, drinking down her delicious emissions, the sound of her orgasm a sweet music falling on his ears. When he left the dungeons this evening, he never imagined such a delight awaited him. Young Gryffindor pussy with his name all over it. Exquisite.

The wizard’s cock was so hard it strained against the fabric restricting it. But he had to wait as he pushed Hermione’s legs up to better access the banquet pouring from her. He licked, suckled and sucked to his heart’s content, bathing the witch’s pussy over and over as she jerked spasmodically, pulling his hair.

He didn’t mind the pain a bit as he finished her, Hermione’s thighs quivering. Finally, he withdrew, rising and looking down on her, licking the excess from his lips. The witch’s eyes were half-lidded and her skin covered with a thin sheen of perspiration, her mouth slack, her lips full and shuddering slightly as she looked up at him. He palmed both her breasts, squeezing the flesh lightly, noting how it bubbled between his fingers. She had large breasts for such a small witch, and a large hunger as well. He tweaked her nipples as she panted.

Hermione looked up at his thin, tall frame, now visible in a white shirt and black trousers. He wasn’t a muscular man by any means, but his masculinity oozed from every pore, his face wearing an unusual look of pleasure. He had never looked at her with any pleasure before now, and it was a heady feeling to know she had at lasted pleased the snarky wizard.

“Was it good, Miss Granger?” he asked her, his voice rich and raw with lust as he looked down on the witch.

”Oh yes. Yes, Professor,” she breathed up at him, still riding on the waves of pleasure he had pulled from her. This was amazing . . . just amazing. None of her fantasies came close and he hadn’t even shagged her yet.

She stared up at him, wanting his kiss, her lips working slightly.

”Kiss me,” she thought at him, unable to ask him despite the intimacy they just shared. It was as if a kiss from the wizard would be even more intimate for some reason.

“Please, kiss me.”

Snape stared down at Hermione, at her mouth . . . how it seemed to offer itself to him. Slowly, deliberately, he bent over the witch, drawing close to her, his black eyes narrowed as he covered her mouth with his own, his lips soft and hungry despite how cruel his mouth appeared to be.

Hermione let out a sob as his tongue invaded her warmth, the taste of her own juices on her lips as he kissed her, his supple muscle entwining with her own, tangling around it before lapping at every hot bit of flesh it could reach. He was maddening and all she wanted was more of him.

Snape savored her mouth, more than savored it. Devoured it, consumed it, the young witch’s acceptance driving him to an even greater need, a greater, deeper desire. Most of his life was pain, the rest of it . . . anger, impotent anger. But here . . . here was a moment of bliss, a moment of passion and . . . and dare he think it?

Connection.

Something his life was sadly lacking. And to think this young witch, this walking brain, this irritating but brilliant young woman was the source of it.

Yes, she was the friend and confidant of Harry Potter, a boy he loathed but protected because of Lily. But she was more than that . . . she saw more in him than just a bitter, snarky Potions master and spy, and somewhere in his cold soul, he was appreciative . . . and grateful. Tonight might just be one fleeting moment shared between them, but it was one he would always remember.

Here, in this cold, empty abandoned room high in the halls of Hogwarts, was warmth. A warmth he had sorely needed. One person in the world who wanted him for him. Who wanted to be a part of his world without strings or reservations.

He continued kissing the witch, feeling her arms wrap around his frame and draw him against her passionately, pressing her core against his swollen trousers, her heat passing through the fabric as she moaned. He moved against her sensuously, settled against her warmth as his trousers grew damp from her renewed arousal. Presently, he pulled away from her mouth, his angular face close to hers as he looked down at the witch, who tried to pull him back.

He smirked at her plain desire, then stood up, bent, then reached for his cast off robes. He pulled out his wand, pressed the tip of it against her belly and murmured a Contraceptive charm, then let the wand fall to the floor..

”I’ve found a hidden jewel,” he said to Hermione as he unfastened his belt and pulled it open. Then he undid his trousers, revealing a rather gray pair of underwear. He yanked everything down, his cock springing out, Hermione’s eyes widening at the sight of it.

If the rest of the Professor’s frame was sparse, it was because all of the bulk had been relegated to his thick, long organ. It stood at attention, the foreskin drawn back from the bulbous, leaking head. It was pale, like the rest of him but straight and proud as he stood before her. The bullet dildo was nothing, nothing next to the serpent the wizard had swinging from his loins. A curling nest of black hair surrounded the base of it, a line of silken black hair leading upward under his shirt.

”You’re going to remove your shirt, aren’t you Professor?” Hermione asked him, wanting to see as much of the pale wizard as she could.

In response, the Professor yanked her further down the desk, so her hips hung over the edge of it, her legs parted on either side of him, then he grasped the base of his cock and struck her core lightly with his hardness, Hermione gasping as she felt his rigid flesh bounce against her most sensitive parts.

“I am scarred,” he said softly, “from the Dark Lord’s tortures. It isn’t a pretty sight, Miss Granger.”

“I don’t care, Professor. Every scar you received is because of how brave you are, and that will make them beautiful testaments to your courage,” she said to him softly, tugging at his shirt tail.

“My Dark Mark will be visible as well. Surely that will be disturbing,” he breathed at her, his desire increased because of her words.

“No. I know who you really are, Professor. You’re no Death Eater,” Hermione said softly. “You are a hero. A brave, unselfish hero.”

Snape stared down at the witch. He knew he was no hero. He was simply a man doing what he had to do. There was no one else after all. Still, he wouldn’t attempt to sully her estimation of him. It was clear to see it was a turn-on for the young witch. He wouldn’t ruin it for her or himself.

“Gryffindors,” he said softly, undoing his cuffs.

Hermione watched as the Professor removed his shirt. He was very thin, but his thinness made his musculature stand out so he appeared sinewy rather than scrawny. Long scars covered his abdomen and torso from the scourgings he’d received because of the Dark Lord’s displeasure, welts raised against his sallow skin. Yes, with his sharp features and marked body he was a severe looking man, one who had suffered, but Hermione thought him . . . beautiful. The Dark Mark showed black against his forearm, the skull and serpent clearly visible. Yet this too appealed to her.

Snape saw the appreciation in Hermione’s eyes and she shifted hungrily as she gazed at him. He moved forward, staring down at her core for a moment, then looking up at the witch.

“You truly want this, Miss Granger . . . Hermione,” he said to her softly.

Hermione felt a thrill go through her at his use of her given name.

”Yes, more than I’ve ever wanted anything, Professor,” she breathed at him.

Snape studied her.

”Call me Severus,” he said, leaning over her and placing one hand on the desk, the other gasping the base of his engorged shaft and placing the head of his cock against her softness. Hermione gasped at the heat and hardness of it as the wizard slid it back and forth over her clit, making her writhe. He hissed at her heat, her readiness.

“Here is the reality,” he breathed, pressing forward and sliding into her softness, his eyes fluttering as her body wrapped around his girth, accepting him as Hermione let out a cry as he filled her, his hardness a blessing as he claimed her body.

“Oh dear gods,” the wizard hissed as she pulsed around him, her eyes liquid with pleasure as she felt the man of her fantasies become more than fantasy. He was with her now, part of her, all the coldness gone as he stared down at her, his mouth slack. He slid his hands under her upturned skirt, lifting it higher as he gripped her waist, pulled back and drove deep inside.

”Ooooh!” Hermione cried as he buried his thickness deep within her, hitting her cervix and making her buckle. Snape held still, his face contorted as he reveled in her warmth and softness.

”Yes witch,” he said softly, pulling back and driving into her again, jerking her body, her breasts bouncing sexily as she slid around him, over him, letting out another delicious cry. He rotated his pelvis, winding the witch around him, groaning with pleasure as he scoured every wall, his cock firmly embedded inside her warm body.

Hermione was in heaven as she felt him begin to move, finding his rhythm, his body shifting as he stroked her hungrily, each stroke delving into a different area as he sought to claim every inch of her, gasping and groaning with delight as he pulled her into his thrust, his eyes deep and hot, his harsh features softened as his need for the witch was met, surge after surge, her soft depths a balm for his pain and loneliness.

Oh this was so much more than Hermione had ever imagined. He was alive and real, hungry and full of need for her as he took her, slapping against her body, biting his lower lip against the delight he was feeling. He was hers for this moment. For this moment, Hermione Granger was all Severus Snape, dark wizard and hero needed and wanted in this world. He became more ardent, Hermione squelching around him, sucking sounds following every immersion, every dip, plunge and pivot as he took what she freely offered. All she knew was his strength, his beautiful voice growling his pleasure, those dark, deep eyes fixed on her face as if she were the only creature in the universe. She could vaguely hear herself crying out as he leaned over her, his ardor increasing, tearing into her now, powerful, male, overwhelming as he slammed into her, jerking her body brutally as he let go, losing himself in her body, letting go of all his reserve, sweat streaming down both their bodies as the age-old connection was met over and over again.

[ ANIMATED IMAGE ]

Snape fell to her mouth, hunching into Hermione with a vengeance now, claiming the witch entirely, curling his hands over her soft shoulders so she wouldn’t slide away from him as he buried his cock in her over and over and over, his tongue possessing her mouth in a double penetration as she cried into it. Yes, she was inexperienced, but she was taking him, wanting him, accepting him as if made for him and he took all he could of her sweetness before the inevitable tightness gripped him, his balls beginning to draw up.

Hermione orgasmed, her sleeve clutching and pulling at the wizard’s hard, penetrating length before bathing it in her hot release, the witch shrieking loudly as she melted under his strength, and Snape, as much as he fought it, responded, firing several powerful jets into the witch, groaning at each delicious pulse, feeling their mingled juices wash over him as he shuddered against her, loins pressed tight to her body as he filled her, their mouths still locked together.

Presently, his release eased, yet he still continued to kiss her until he softened inside her warm body, sated and satisfied. He pulled away from her mouth, Hermione’s lips slightly swollen from his ardor as he looked down at her.

”Was I what you dreamed of?” he asked her softly.

”Yes. More . . . much more, Severus,” she answered him, her eyes gleaming with spent passion.

He gave the witch a smile, a true smile that made him seem younger and yes, handsomer.

”Then we are both satisfied,” he said, kissing her once more. “Thank you for this gift, Hermione. It was something I never thought would happen between us.”

”And something I dreamed would,” Hermione breathed up at him.

Gods, it had been so good. Then suddenly, sadness washed over her. Snape saw it in her face immediately.

”What’s wrong, Hermione,” he asked her.

Hermione blinked up at him.

”Will this be our only time together?” she asked him softly.

The wizard stared down at her. Hermione was a student, and although there were no set rules against fraternization with a student of the Age of Consent, he wasn’t sure it would be proper to continue this. One mutual moment of weakness could be understood . . . but to continue? Not only could Hermione be compromised if word of this got out around the school, but her very life could be endangered because of her association with him.

“I think it best if it is, Hermione,” he said, feeling a tightness in his belly as he said it.

Hermione looked up at him.

”It wouldn’t be best. Not now. Not now that we know how we make each other feel, Severus. I don’t want any other wizard,” she said to him softly, “I don’t want any other man but you now. It’s always been you. Say we can continue. Please. I’ll be discreet. No one will know.”

Snape stared down at the witch, her emotion clearly written on her face. He was still inside her, still connected.

Everything inside him said to tell her no, it would not be possible. But . . . but after experiencing the young witch, he couldn’t say it. He didn’t want to stay away. It was foolish . . . irresponsible . . . stupid, but if he could have this connection, this pleasure with someone who truly felt something for him, he wasn’t about to turn away from it. He had already turned away from so much.

“Very well, witch,” he breathed, covering her mouth again with his own, pushing away his reservations. Death would most likely claim him soon, the Final Battle inevitable. His duplicity would be revealed. Why not take what pleasure available to him?

Hermione returned the Potions master’s kiss hungrily, happiness filling her. Yes, he would be a secret, but her secret.

Her Potions master.

Yes, the Final Battle did happen, and yes, Snape’s duplicity was discovered, but he survived, Harry Potter killing Voldemort after a great battle and nearly dying himself in the process. But he didn’t die, and neither did the Potions master.

He and Hermione remained together throughout several years, the witch attending University and receiving her degree as a Charms Mistress. Then they married and had several rather snarky little Snapes who were the bane of Hogwarts when they attended, only one sorted into the house of Gryffindor.

Well, one out of five wasn’t bad.

And Alyssa Jean Snape was just as snarky as the rest of her siblings if not quite as dark.

This suited Snape just fine.

THE END.

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A/N: A snippet with a rather abrupt ending. Well, it’s a snippet after all . . . lol. Hope you enjoyed. I will seek out fitting animations for this later. Will have to scour the “schoolgirl” sites. Lol. Thanks for reading.

A/N/N: Naughty Animation has been added to this snippet.  Not exactly what I wanted, but the little skirt is flipped up. lolol.

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I'D LIKE TO SEE THE ANIMATED SNIPPETS, SO I'LL