Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Service for Snape	By : JadeFalcon Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 20421 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Harry Potter is property of JK Rowlings. No money is being made off of this story, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter List
- 1-Service for Snape
- 1
Name: "Service for Snape"

Chapters: In Progress

Characters: Hermione/Snape (possibly others)

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: non-con, blackmail, wank, under-age, masturbation, cumplay, dub-con, other kinks

Dedications: for Tyf, and Amanuensis

Summary: Hermione is summoned to Snape's quarters one evening to assist him in brewing a potion.

Notice from the Author: This story will be updated at AO3, and will NOT be updated here at AFF. I apologize for the inconveniece.
You can view the story here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2234226/chapters/4901877
Chapter One:

            Hermione knocked three times loudly; the sound echoing down the quiet dungeon hallway. Beyond the large wooden door, Professor Serverous Snape looked up from the mound of scrolls he was grading on his desk. He stared at the door for a moment, put down his quill, and leaned back comfortably in his chair.
            “Come,” he called out.
            Hermione turned the handle and pushed the heavy door open. She walked through the doorway and glanced around. She closed the door behind her with a heavy thud. This was her first time ever having been in the Professor’s personal quarters. At first glance, she noticed many strange items on various stools, tables, and shelves, all illuminated by the large fire gently warming the room from the fireplace to her right. Stopping in the center of the room, she glanced left and noticed a large bed facing her, seated against the wall. The blankets were folded neatly, and the comforter tucked in just right. It looked to be king-sized; far larger than anything she had ever slept on. She turned her attention to Professor Snape, who was sitting behind a large black desk, watching her contemplatively.
            “I just received your owl, Professor. You wanted to see me about a project?” Hermione folded her hands politely in front of her, waiting for Snape to speak.
            Snape continued to watch her carefully. “Did you tell anyone where you were going?” he asked.
            Hermione started. “I…no. No Professor, I did not.”
            Snape stood up after a second. “That is good,” he said. “The project I am about to ask of you is and must remain of the utter most secrecy. Nobody is to know about it, in anyway, shape, nor form. Not even the Headmaster.” He stopped at the front of his desk and leaned against it, arms folded, studying Hermione for any kind of disapproval.
            Hermione squirmed uncomfortably. She did not like Snape. Not in the least. But she admired him strictly in the sense that he was very smart, and had the same quest for knowledge that she did. She also knew that he would stop at nothing in that quest for knowledge, no matter the cost. The fact that not even the headmaster could know of something that she was involved in was difficult to swallow.
            “I…may I ask what the project is?” She inquired.
            “Not until you take the Secrecy Vow,” he replied. “You must swear complete and total secrecy to me to ensure that you do not discuss this outside this room for any reason, nor in any way, shape, or form.”
            He stopped and, once again, studied the young pupil in front of him. She seemed to be in a inner conflict with her conscious, so he felt it best to ease some of her discomfort. “I will tell you this, to ease your mind. What I am going to ask of you will have no negative effect on anyone or anything. In fact, you will, if you decide to go through with it, have a very small role in the probable survival of Harry Potter.”
            Hermione’s eyes lit up at this. He hurried to shade that light. “And no, you cannot know any details regarding that. Period.”
            She thought to herself silently. She was no fool; surely even Snape could acknowledge that. She knew perfectly well that any secrecy with Snape was…daring…in the least. Perhaps if she pressed further? “Why would I refuse this project?”
            Professor Snape silently shook his head at her and said nothing.
            Frustrated, she bit her tongue. Fine. She would have to take the Vow. “Alright. I’ll take the Vow.”
            “Raise your wand to your lips and repeat after me.” He stepped forward, bringing his wand tip to his lips. She raised her own wand like-wise.
            “Secrotorius,” said Snape. She repeated him, and instantly, a small flame shot from both tips of their wands. It glowed bright blue.
            “I swear, upon Death, devout Secrecy…
            “That never is this to be discussed…
            “Outside this room, to anyone…
            “For any reason, in any way…
            “Lest this fire grow…
            “Consume my belly…
            “And the Earth swallow me whole…
            “My ashes remain for all eternity. Finite.”
            As Hermione finished the last line, the flame at the tip of her wand shot from it and zipped between her parted lips. She felt it’s cold heat slide over her tongue and down her throat, into the pit of her stomach.
            Snape lowered his wand. “It is done. If you ever speak of any of this through written, verbal, or other forms of communication, that fire will fully engulf you from the inside, and nobody will be able to save you, not even me.”
            Hermione shuddered at that. “Yes…okay, sir, I get it.”
            “Good,” he replied. He turned and walked to his desk. With both hands, he lifted an open book and brought it to her. “Read the ingredients of this potion. Tell me, when you get there, what the last ingredient is.”
            She took the book from him. He motioned to a chair next to the fireplace, one of two. She sat opposite of him and began to read.
            Most of the ingredients were pretty far fetched, even for her understanding or belief. Heartstring of a dragon…eels eggs…skin of a Poison Arrow Frog…
            “Sir, do you have all of these ingredients?” She asked, half-way through the list. Dragon Heart-Strings would be the most difficult to come by.
            “I do. I am, after all, a Potions Master, Miss Granger.” His eyes did not belay the hint of amusement on his voice.
            “Right…of course, sorry.” She continued to read a list of almost fifty further ingredients, before finally coming to the final one. She read it out loud, not quite sure at first what she was reading.
            “Seed of Producer-slash-Brewer.” She paused for a second and looked up at Snape. “Professor, I don’t understand…” her voice trailed off with questioning. This was, by far, the most complex potion she had ever read about, much less attempted.
            Professor Snape answered her in patience. “Well, I am going to be the Producing Brewer. I am providing the ingredients, and I’m brewing the potion.”
            “Right, I understand that Professor, but what seed does this speak of?”
            Snape was quiet for a moment. “Surely, Miss Granger, you know a little of Human Sexuality by now? You are, after all, already fourteen years of age.”
            Hermione felt her mind grind to a halt. “I….what?”
            “Miss Granger,” continued Snape. “The ‘Seed’ this potion is referring to is my semen.”
            Hermione felt her mouth gaping open, but could not seem to move her jaw. The book sat limply in her lap.
            Snape smiled, and Hermione barely noticed that it didn’t reach his eyes. “Now you see the need for my…utmost secrecy.”
            Hermione’s voice caught in her throat. “But…I…you…” her voice trailed off.
            Snape pressed on. “I feel I must tell you what you have not yet asked me, which is why I chose you in the first place.”
            Hermione’s jaw suddenly snapped shut. She indeed did not even think about that question earlier. Her mind was racing with a thousand thoughts all at once.
            “I chose you, Miss Granger, because you, of all my other students, are mature enough to understand the adult situations that go along with the making of this potion. I also chose you because of your continued demonstrations of professionalism that I have come to admire and even expect from you since you first arrived here. I would expect this from no-one else in this school. Finally, I chose you because, eager as you are, your quest for knowledge is not so unlike my own. I trust that, in the process of making this potion, you will learn many things that will benefit and come to be of great significance to you throughout the rest of your life.”
            He paused just slightly, and continued at Hermione’s silence. “I want to make things perfectly clear right now. No, we will not be having sex, if that puts your mind at any ease. I am also not asking any oral stimulation from you,” Hermione blanched at that, “but rather, just the stimulation of one of your hands or both, depending on what…works.”
            As her pulse picked up, Hermione’s breathing began to come in shallow breaths. Snape continued. “I need the stimulation of a virgin, which I trust you are Miss Granger, as it states very clearly in the instructions. If it were not for this, I could probably just pay some whore at Diagon Alley to be my servant for the period of the full month that it will take to make this potion. But alas, here you are, already in place here at school, and this won’t distract you from your studies. And because you’re doing this, there will be no homework for you from this class as long as you are in my service.”
            Finally, Snape was quiet. Hermione looked from him down to the book. “I…don’t…even know where to…begin…” she started.
            Snape rose from his place, which drew her attention. “First, before deciding to do it or not, read that entire potion. I’m going to get a book.”
            As he walked to a bookshelf near his desk, she called out, almost in outrage; a sudden anger clenched her heart. “What the hell makes you think that I’ll have anything to do with…with you?” She stood up, hands clenched at her sides. The book in her lap slid to the floor, but stayed in page. She glared at the back of Snape’s robes.
            Professor Snape stopped in his tracks and in a deathly calm voice called out, “ah, but you are free to leave at any time, Miss Granger. The door is not locked, you may leave on your own accord. But I’ll remind you that this ultimately helps Mister Potter, and further, that you cannot ever communicate of what has transpired in this room.” He turned slowly, his hand holding a book who’s title Hermione could not read at that distance. His voice lowered to a hiss. “And if you read the rest of that potion, Miss Granger, you would plainly see that I need to start this tonight, and that I will have someone pleasure me this evening, whether it be you or someone else. The next person I was considering was that adorable little Weasley girl…Ginny…simply because I love a person with red hair and freckles. But somehow, I don’t think she would take as kindly to me as you would. I would hate for her to…get hurt at all…if she refused.” The threat was clear as day. “My last option, Miss Granger, would be to force someone to do so. You I take no pleasure in forcing anything on. But her…I assure you, I would show no such pity. Why…I think I would rather enjoy that little morsel.”
            Hermione shivered in anger and fear as she stared across the room at Snape. He drew closer, and she found herself rooted to the spot. She thought of calling his bluff. Was he even bluffing? Suppose he did owl Ginny after she left? Could she intercept her in time to….to do what? She couldn’t tell Ginny, her best friend, anything.
            “Very good, Miss Granger,” said Snape. “Assess the situation, and see that the probable outcome would be your full cooperation in the matter. And remember what I said earlier: there is so much to be learned from this experience. You’ll certainly have a…hand…in helping Harry Potter.” He chuckled and pressed a white-colored book into her hands. “I think you’ll need this. And if you hurry, we can be done for tonight and you can be in bed before bedtime. It’s only 6 o’clock after all.”
            He turned and strode over to his bed. Once there, he removed his cloak and dropped it to the floor. Hermione noticed that his white shirt was already unbuttoned, and the pale white skin beneath was peeking out through the split. “What will it be, Miss Granger? Decide now.”
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Service for Snape