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Puttanesca	By : FJH Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 3139 -:- Recommendations : 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.

Chapter List
- 1-Puttanesca
- 1
Disclaimer: Pure smut, purely PWP, rated NC-17. The Gryffindor prefect in the beginning is mine, but all other characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

- -Puttanesca- -

She couldn't pass up a dinner invitation from him, could she?
And so she had told Dumbledore, McGonagall and Flitwick that sorry, it's very kind of you, but I'm going to have to pass up your offer tonight. I've got other plans. And as she left, she caught the faintest glimpse of winks in triplicate. The three of them winking at each other and smiling.

That was as far as their teasing got most days. Unlike with Harry and Ron, who never missed a change to give her all they got. /I suppose I should be grateful, though. They've toned down beyond my wildest expectations. Once, it used to be outright hostility, remember?/

He stomach grumbled as she removed the clothes she'd worn all day and chose an outfit she knew would please him. /What will he fix this time?/ she said to herself as she put her hair up and soused herself with perfume. A moonstone pendant, matching earrings and a pair of delicate strappy sandals completed the picture. /I'm sure to make quite an impression,/ she thought as she pulled on a dark purple dress robe.

She certainly impressed Fatoumata, the Gryffindor prefect, who gazed at her with no less than awe she they passed each other in the hall just outside the library.

"Professor Granger, is that lilac perfume? That's my favorite!"

"Thank you. I like it too. The spell for it is /Parfumare Syringa/."

"Thanks. I'll remember that." The girl took off her glasses and polished them as she said, "Got another date with Professor Snape tonight?"

"Yes."

"Ooooh." The girl lowered her eyes and giggled. "You know, it's weird. Even though he's always been mean, I've always rather fancied him."

/You and more girls from fifth year on up than I want to know./

"Really?" said Hermione, hoping her last thought was sufficiently disguised.

"Yes. You are lucky, Professor Granger. I'd give anything to be in your shoes." She gave a shy smile and lowered her eyes again.

"Well… thank you."

"Have a wonderful time." With that, Fatoumata went back to her patrol.

Hermione rolled her eyes as soon as she was out of sight. Between the jokes and teasing from her colleagues and friends, and the giggling, smitten, envious teenage girls, it could get pretty exasperating.

But her exasperation lifted as soon as she opened his door and caught a wonderful aroma. Tomatoes, garlic, a hint of sharpness"

eruserus, that smells delicious!"

"Thank you," he said as he stepped back a little—understandably he did not want to stray too far from his cooking-- and glanced at her over his shoulder. A glance that turned into a hungry gaze as she pushed her robe back, revealing her dress.

She quivered down to her toes. He could pack so much desire in a simple look—even an indirect one. And it made her feel positively…delectable.

She took a deep breath and said, "Well, where do I start?"

"Just sit down, and I'll be with you in a minute. I'm almost done."

She took off her robe, and instantly it flew off her shoulders and onto the coat stand next to the mantelpiece.

He had a fire going, much to Hermione's relief; for after she sat down she discovered the chair to be a bit chilly. It still was early April, not quite time for short spaghetti-strap dresses. But she'd picked out her dress especially for him: hyacinth purple, a color she felt alluring in; with a hemline that came down to just above the knee, enough to be demure without sacrificing sauciness. One curling tendril of hair had escaped from its restraint to hang by her left ear.

She glanced down at the table. It was almost ready: the spinach-and tomato salad sat in a large glass bowl off-center; a bottle of olive oil sat next to a bottle of his favorite wine, cabernet sauvignon; a smallish loaf of brown bread sat across from the salad; and the dinner and salad plates were edged in a gold-and-stone-like Roman design. A wide-mouthed goblet, already filled with wine, sat next to each plate.

/All that's missing is a bouquet of flowers. But he's never really been the flower type./

There was one hobby she could never have imagined Severus indulging in, and that was cooking. Without magic. It was one thing to make potions; it was another thing altogether to labor over a hot stove doing something that many Slytherins considered fit only for house-elves.

In fact, considering that he was so thin, there had been times when she'd wondered if he ate at all. Didn't he lack the time anyway, what with spending hour upon hour in the laboratory?

But from their first date, he had surprised her, over and over again. From the exquisitely prepared filet mignon with bearnaise sauce he'd made for her last birthday, to the tasty and very portable Thai chicken satays he'd made for them to munch on while hiking in the Forbidden Forest, he'd left her with no doubt of his culinary prowess. /Not to mention, his prowess at what we did in the Forest afterwards,/ she thought with a smile.

"Hand me your plate," he suddenly said. "It's ready now." Hermione handed him her dinner plate—and gave a start. There he was, standing over his magically-heated Muggle stove, positively resplendent in a black frock coat and dark gray slacks, his hair hanging thick and full to his shoulders, his face slightly pink from the heat. But thrown over this elegant ensemble was a white apron, bearing the word KISS THE COOK over the breast. It was all she could do not to start giggling. What would the students think if they say this? For that matter, what would the other professors think?

"Don't mind if I do," Hermione heard herself mumble.

"Pardon?"

"What? Oh!" Hermione felt her face heat up.

"How much would you like?" he said with a smirk.

"About a cupful." She blushed again. /Agghhgghh. How does he always manage to pick up on what I accidentally blurt out?/

She sat down and took the first bite just as he took his place next to her. He watched her with anticipation as she chewed.

It was excellent—spicy and a bit salty, with a complex layering of flavors, and she closed her eyes in pleasure. /It's very intense. Kind of like you, Severus./ She felt herself smile.

"Do you like it?"

"It's /wonderful./ I don't think you've ever made it before?"

"No. This one's a new one."

"What's it called?"

"Puttanesca."

"That's a lovely name. Very exotic."

"It's exotic all right," said Severus, "but I don't think you want to know what it means."

"Yes I do. Why won't you tell me?"

"Because I won't."

"Why?"

"Because you read enough books that you're going to find out anyway."

"And why would I consult a book when I can just ask you, right in front of me?"

"Because I'll turn you into a cat if you ask me again"."He fixed her with a severe gaze.

"You wouldn't."

"Ah, you ought to know me better by now, Miss Granger. I've grown quite fond of your Crookshanks; I'd be happy to have another cat around. And Crookshanks just might be getting lonely. I think he wouldn't mind an attractive, female, companion." He spoke the last words slowly and dramatically, his eyes glittering.

"Why you--!" Hermione spat as she seized upon the implications of what he said. "That's /dirty!/"

"Ah, but you had to have a dirty interpretation of the words, my dear." He threw his head back in laughter. "Actually, it might be nice to have /kittens/ in my dungeon."

"/Severus!/"

"Sorry. I couldn't resist."

"I'm not letting you belabor this subject anymore," said Hermione firmly. "Shut up. And eat what you're worked so hard to make before it gets cold."

"I didn't work so hard to make this," said Severus, taking another mouthful. "All I had to do was mix the ingredients together and let it simmer for about an hour."

"What's in it?"

"Tomatoes, garlic, olives, capers and anchovies."

"That still sounds rather difficult."

"Believe me, it's not." He took a sip of his wine. "It goes pretty well with the wine, too."

"Everything goes well with wine," said Hermione, grinning as she tore off a small piece of bread and dipping it in her glass. "The body and blood of Christ."

Severus made a face. "Now that's something I've never understood."

"What?"

"he bit about blood of Christ. I don't like thinking of blood when I'm drinking."

"But it's a Muggle custom to offer bread and red wine during communion. It's a Catholic ceremony,"she quickly explained, and took another sip. "I think you can tell I'm Catholic. Or former Catholic, anyway."

"It just seems disgusting to refer to wine as blood."

Hermiorinnrinned. "Well, how are your pagan ceremonies any less disgusting? How were the Death Eater ceremonies any less disgusting? That blood was the real thing—and I don't think you always waited for your 'guests of honor' to be dead."

Severus sneered. "Did it occur to you that there's a reason why they said politics, sex and religion were three things you should never discuss?"

"Well, why not? I already feel quite comfortable discussing the first two with you. Why not the third?" She smiled again.

He nodded slightly. "So, now you know why I wish to leave a perfectly good glass of wine un-dirtied." He took a bite of pasta, as if to cleanse his palate. "When I'm in your presence I prefer to talk about more pleasant things."

"More pleasant things? Like crocodile brains and pig hearts?"

He choked up as he said, "The Nile crocodile medulla oblongata happens to be the most potent ingredient in Initiative Potion, my dear, and the pig's heart is a staple of many of the older health and longevity potions, so discussing them was /not/ meant to disgust you, or give you ideas! It was /business./ Academics." He took a large gulp of wine before he added, "Are you trying to make me lose my appetite? Because you've damn near succeeded."

"Oh, I'm really sorry," said Hermione. "Yummy yummy yummy. Luscious and creamy, luscious and creamy, creamy and luscious. Better?"

/Stop saying those words. I'm looking right at your neck and can almost see your breasts./ He quickly took another bite of pasta, and swallowed.

"Well, I'm reassured of one thing," said Hermione.

"What?"

"You have such distaste for blood," she said, dropping the volume of the last word, "that it disproves at least one rumor about you."

"And what rumor is that?"

"That you're a vampire, of course. It's clear to me now that you prefer to feed on children's fragile self-esteem— not blood."

"That's quite the compliment," said Severus, "but you'd better watch out for flaws in your reasoning."

"What kind of flaws?"

"Well, for instance—" He finished his plate and put his fork down, "you know how often, when a person makes a big show out of having one point of view, he really holds the opposite point of view. Why do you think Slytherins mistrust shows of emotion?"

Hermione finished her pasta and licked the last bit of sauce from her lips. Her heart began to beat faster as she became conscious of him moving closer to her.

"Besides," he said, inches from her neck, his gaze intense and hungry, are you /sure/ I'm not a vampire?"

"I'm positive."

"I think you'd better be very sure," he said, silkily, as he swooped down and planted his lips on the side of her neck. He lightly sank in his teeth, and Hermione gasped. The salad on her plate lay completely forgotten as he nibbled, sucked and kissed every inch of her neck he could reach, finally lifting off from the base of her throat with a loud smack.

"Thank you very much. Now I'm going to have to wear turtlenecks for a week."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"I look terrible in them."

"I beg to differ on that. Anyway, you wouldn't want to start proving those rumors correct, would you?" He was grinning wolfishly. "Besides, it was distinct impression that you liked with I was doing."

Hermione blushed. /He has a most unfortunate habit of being right./

"Did you make any dessert?" she said, a bit offhandedly.

"Not tonight." He embraced her, stroking her hair, and said, almost sweetly, in her ear, "Lean back." And Hermione, perhaps against her better judgment, did so. He eased down one strap of her dress and then the other, and then pulled the material down to partially expose her breasts.

"Mmmm," murmured Hermione as he shoulders relaxed. She closed her eyes, waiting for the touch of his lips on her skin, but instead—"Oh!"

She gasped and squeezed her eyes tighter as she felt the splash of liquid against her cleavage. Her eyes flew open just as he descended upon her, running his tongue over the rivulets of cabernet sauvignon that trickled down each breast. The neckline now showed a huge red stain, she realized with dismay.

"You /bastard!/ This dress wasn't cheap!"

"Cleaning charm, my dear, cleaning charm. Later." He picked up his glass again and poured more wine on her, this time moving higher, up to her throat. He cupped the back of her head with his hand, to give him better access. An instant later he lavished her throat with his tongue, and he heard her protests grow unintelligible, lost in her mews of pleasure.

He pulled the dress, showing an even larger stain, down further to expose her ivory satin bra, splotched with red. He lapped the remaining drops of wine from the swells of her breasts and the space between. Then he pushed aside the satin, exposing one dusky rose nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, savoring its taste, and then moved to the other one; back and forth he used his talented mouth to wring nothing but growls and moans from the depths of her throat. Then he dipped his finger in the wine and touched it to the first nipple before descending again, more fiercely this time.

"Enough with the wine already," said Hermione, but it did not by any means sound like a proper rebuke. Her voice was harsh and purring, undeniably feral. /Oh Gods, I'm at the point where it's impossible for me to do anything but egg him on./

"As you wish," he hissed before applying quick tongue-strokes to her other nipple, rougher than a caress but not painful, making the tissue even more erect. He captured the stiff nipple in his mouth and sucked hard, reveling in her moans, and finally pulled away from her with a cool breath.

/How could I be this wet already?/ thought Hermione as she leaned back in her chair, caught her breath and pulled the dress and bra back over her nipples. She stretched luxuriously, no doubt thrusting her breasts towards him, but she didn't care. She sat up and watched him calmly sipping what was left of his wine.

She lightly brushed her palms over her nipples, trying to relieve their tenderness. Severus watched her and smirked.

"That, my dear, was for trying to make me lose my appetite."

"You're dirty."

"Fortunately, you're equally good at whetting it again,"he said, his eyes penetrating hers.

At the mention of "whetting", Hermione's mind shifted uncomfortably to the slick in her knickers. Quickly pushing the thought out of her mind, she said, "My dress, please," in a firm tone.

"Oh, yes," purred Severus, "I almost forgot." He reached into the pocket of his frock coat, drew out his wand, and pointed it at her dress. Immediately the stains vanished, but the material slipped even farther down her chest.

Hermione became conscious that only about two inches of cloth stood between her nipples and his gaze. Suddenly feeling shy, she brought her arms up to fold around herself, and closed her eyes.

/Now, what's this all about?/ she admonished herself. /You're not a schoolgirl. You're a grown woman. This is not your first time with this man. You've settled into a kind of routine with him by now./

/But still,/ the shyer part of her countered, /it's Severus, not some ordinary man— or even ordinary wizard—/

"Cold?"

"No, not at all," she said as she regained her confidence and placed her arms at her sides. /Understatement of the year. I can't stop burning up./

She felt him closer and closer to her before she opened her eyes, and found his face only a few inches from hers. His eyes were softer now, almost kind, but the enlarged pupils betrayed his desire. As well as his enlarged— she swallowed as she looked down.

And then she felt her face break into a smile. "Severus, that was absolutely delicious. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said, cupping her cheeks and pulling her in for a kiss. Against her lips, he whispered, "But are you talking about the dinner, or the 'dessert'?"

"I don't quite know," she whispered back. "Maybe a little of both."

"Hmmm," he said, closing the distance and letting his lips take hers with fervor. When he broke away, they were still brushing hers as he whispered again, "I don't think anything tonight is as delicious as you." He kissed her again and pressed himself against her mound. Her eyes widened.

"Now," he almost choked out, "You see what you've done to me, and you understand, I can't wait very long." He moved his lips to her neck again, going over the marks he had left, as he skimmed one hand over her breasts and down her belly. He slid his hand under her skirt, and placed it over the damp satin covering her mound.

"This is something I've always liked about you," he murmured against her throat, "You're always ready for me." He dipped one finger between her inner lips and quested until her found her clitoris. He began to make circles as his mouth found hers again.

Hermione had to break the kiss after a moment from shortness of breath and the resultant pressure in her chest.

"Severus!" His name came out in a ragged burst as he dipped his finger into her slick opening and immediately took his hand from her knickers and out from under her dress.

She shuddered as he showed her his soaked finger. And swallowed as he smirked, stuck that finger in his mouth, and sucked contentedly, closing his eyes and taking on a dreamy expression.

"So delicious."

Something snapped inside Hermione at those words. He was reaching for her to remove her clothes, but she was on him first, popping the buttons, pulling down the zipper and yanking at cloth with almost brute force. Finally he was revealed to her in all his naked glory; her mouth watering at his firm muscles, taut brown nipples, flat stomach, powerful legs, thick nest of dark curls surrounding his—

/Oh Gods. It's as if seeing it for the first time./

She smiled up at him as she came to wrap her left arm around his waist, and her right hand around his erection.

He gulped as she moved her hand up and down, just the way he liked it—but then she remembered, she had to get him back for his relentless teasing— so she released him, a bit abruptly per, fo, for she wasn't prepared for the intensity of his growl of frustration.

She slowly trailed a single finger from the base of his erection all the way to the tip, and made light, feathery circles. Her other fingers came to splay around the sensitive head, and she smiled in satisfaction at his low groan. She glanced up at his eyes and found them even darker, if that was possible.

Hermione than ran her fingers down his shaft again, toward his, admittedly under-appreciated, pubic curls. She first sifted her fingers through them as he had done for her sometimes—then pressed a little harder, massaging what had to be his mound, noting it to be pleasantly soft and springy.

She lifted her gaze to his again as she removed her hand, and saw in his eyes another lightning bolt of frustration. But as she brought her hand to her nose and mouth, closed her eyes and breathed deeply, she heard him give another soft moan—and she opened her eyes to find a kind of lust in his she didn't often see, one mingled with surprise.

/Gods, his scent is enough to make me come sometimes./

Hermione stood up, took her wine glass from the table, and knelt back down between his legs. Putting the glass well enough under her chair not to spill, she took his erection in her right hand once more, and cupped his sac in her left hand. After a moment, she trailed her left index finger a few inches behind, loving the intense heat of the skin there, and pressed—lightly at first, then gradually firmer.

"/Hermione,/" he called out hoarsely, and a few drops of pearly liquid leaked from the tip of his shaft. She smiled and dipped her right index finger into the small slit, and then brought it closer to her face for inspection. Such a lovely shimmer—/pearl/ was the exact word for it. How would he taste with--?

She answered her own question by reaching under the chair and taking a quick sip of wine, and then sticking her glistening fingertip in her mouth. She closed her eyes and let herself savor for a few seconds.

/Hmmm. Pretty good. Actually quite good. Now I know why he always chooses that particular wine. It's *him.*/

Feeling naughty, she smiled and mover ler left hand to cup his erection from underneath, and poured wine all over him from her glass. She relished his quick, hoarse gasp.

As well as his deep growl as she, in one swift motion, took him fully in her mouth.

"Ohhh—yes—" His fingers came down to tangle in her hair as she moved up and down on him, sucking, licking, tasting.

She knew he was getting close as she tasted a sudden tinge of saltiness, and she quickly released him, blowing a cool breeze across the tip for good measure, as she stood up and hurriedly divested herself of her clothes.

He them came up to stand beside her in an impressive show of composure. /Though just barely,/ she thought as she glanced into his eyes.

Severus reached over to cover his fingers in the remaining sauce on his plate, and spread a little on her bottom lip, before swooping down and sucking it into his mouth. Her hands came around to caress his back.

When he released her from the kiss, he leaned back and licked his own lips. "Absolutely divine," he drawled.

He motioned for her to move closer to the fireplace, and then lie down; and she did, reclining full length. She closed her eyes and felt him plunge his wet finger into her belly button; and then felt his tongue plunge into the same spot.

"Severus—" she said, her eyes rolling back in her head.

"Delicious," he said. "Delicious all over."

She opened her eyes to find him turning around, his face between her legs his his erection positioned over her face, and smiled at what was to come.

He clearly was at the end of his patience as he feverishly worked his tongue over her, lapping up her juices. She moaned into his erection, tasting another tang of saltiness. It didn't take too long for either of them to reach a climax, he spurting down her throat and she pressing against his mouth, both their cries of release muffled. After they came down from their heights a bit, their mouths released each other, and they lay there, cuddling, head to feet, like yin and yang.

After a minute he turned her around so they were lying face to face. He plunged his hand into her considerably less dignified hairdo and released it from its restraints altogether.

"Mmmm," he said, burying his face in the fragrant strands. Hermione sighed in contentment.

"The wine suits you, Severus."

"It does you too. As well as the sauce." He chuckled. "Be careful. I'm finding you more and more flavorful every time I see you. You might find yourself eaten alive." His arms tightened around her waist as he chuckled again. "You don't want to bathe me in sauce the way you did with the wine, though. The hot pepper would produce a most /unappetizing/ burning sensation. Which is why I avoided your respective area in that way."

Hermione couldn't help laughing at this. To be having just such a conversation with Severus— truly they had broken new grounds of comfort with each other.

She could still taste him in the back of her throat, and admittedly, she was still in the process of acquiring a taste for him. But with the wine—

She lifted her hand to summon the bottle of wine from the table, and took a sip right out of it. She then turned around to give him a deep kiss, setting the bottle down and out of the way.

As they pulled away, he said huskily, "Now /I/ know why I always drink cabernet." Hermione grinned.

Settling back into his embrace, she said, "Severus? What /does/ Puttanesca mean?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes. Especially after all of this."

"It means loose woman."

"What?"

"Exactly," he said, his breath brushing her ear. "Italian courtesans would make it for their gentleman callers to get them in the mood."

"Well," said Hermione, "I must say I've certainly been put in the mood, you— loose man?" She raised and lowered her hips against the space between his legs, and thought she felt his softened organ give just a little twitch.

"I don't like being put in this position, Miss Granger," he growled, but still making no effort to conceal the amusement in his voice.

"Well, how about the position you've put /me/ in?" she said. "From now on you're always going to expect me to pay my compliments for the nice dinner, in bed."

"You ought to know me better than that by now. Not that it's a bad arrangement, though."

"I have to agree," she said, rubbing herself between his legs again. "Besides, I like being in /this/ position very much." Triumph welled in her heart at the unmistakable glint of desire in his eyes.

"Let's take it more slowly this time," said Severus, as he smiled and pulled her toward his lips.

THE END

In Italian folklore, Puttanesca was served by the ladies of the evening in order to allure their gentlemen friends into their arms. Buon appetito!

Ingredients:
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
5-10 cloves garlic finely chopped (adjust to taste)
1 can anchovies (2 oz., with liquid)
1/2 to 1 tsp. red pepper -takes (more for extra zip)
1 1/2 lb. fresh, chopped tomatoes (or two 28 oz. cans)
1 can black olives (coarsely chopped, preferably Kalamata)
2 Tbsp. capers
Salt & Pepper to taste
1/2 cup Italian parsley (chopped)

Procedure:
In skillet, heat olive oil and smash anchovies to create a paste. Add garlic and red pepper flakes. Toss in tomatoes and mix. Add olives, capers par parsley. Reduce heat for 1-2 hours. Simmer uncovered. Salt and pepper to taste. Serve on spaghetti or Penne pasta. Add grated parmesan cheese. Enjoy with Dolcetto!

http://webwinery.com/BARGETTO/APages/Recipes/PuttanescaRecipe.html

There is also a nod to the movie "Waterboy" above. I know that Adam Sandler and Harry Potter go about as well together as Ron and Pansy, but it was a nice little neural firing.

Pig tissues have been used as human temporary tissue transplants for a long time now. I imagine that most of the old potions to make people live longer contained pig heart, but very likely the newer ones would have different (and to students, less gruesome) ingredients.
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Puttanesca