Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Slytherin Toy	By : Dazzlious Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 55780 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from J K Rowling's fantastic books or films, I'm just borrowing and playing with them for a little while and get no monetary reward for doing so.

Chapter List
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A/N: This is set in the seventh year of school and assumes that the end of book six and what followed never happened. Thanks to Mamacita for her editing skills and thank you to you for reading. I hope you enjoy. Dx

Professor Severus Snape looked out over his N.E.W.T. potions class, impressed, in spite of himself, at the concentration Hermione Granger was putting into making her potion considering the uproar that was going on around her. He had to admit that of all his current students she was the one who made the subject worth teaching, although he would never let her know that, of course. If anything, she had to work twice as hard in order to impress him; but impress him she did, time and time again.
Now, while Longbottom — how in Merlin’s name he had ever allowed Albus to talk him into keeping that boy on in his N.E.W.T. course he would never know — created havoc once again, the Gryffindor princess continued calmly brewing her potion while still trying to help the boy sort out his mess. Almost everyone else had used the distraction as an excuse to stop work, especially the Slytherins in the class, of which there were thankfully not many.
‘Use Evanesco,’ Hermione whispered to Neville, who was looking in shock at the eruption in his cauldron.
She turned back to her own potion and carefully stirred five times counter-clockwise, then a quarter-turn clockwise, before adding the dragon scales. Next to her, there was another small crump as Neville’s potion exploded.
‘Evanesco!’ Hermione said again, more urgently, but as she looked at Neville it was clear the boy wasn’t going to be able to do anything. He seemed to have gone into shock.
‘Harry, can you help Neville?’ she asked quietly. ‘What about you, Ron?’
Harry shook his head but didn’t look away from his cauldron as he said apologetically, ‘Can’t, Hermione, think mine’s going the same way as Neville’s.’
Harry had his wand over his cauldron and was obviously attempting to concentrate in an effort to stop it erupting. As Hermione glanced at Ron she realised that he, too, was on the verge of an explosion and was concentrating so hard on stopping it that he hadn’t even heard her.
Hermione looked down at her own potion. She sighed and waved her wand. ‘Stasis.’
She turned to Neville and waved her wand at his cauldron, from which black smoke was now billowing. An ominous bubbling noise was coming from within. The boy’s potion vanished, then Hermione turned to help Ron and Harry.
‘What do you think you are doing, Miss Granger?’ Snape asked as he suddenly loomed in front of her and Neville’s workbench. His voice was as dark as his scowl. The Slytherins sniggered as Hermione blushed, knowing she was in for a difficult time from the snarky Potions Master.
‘I . . . I was . . . trying to help Neville, sir. His potion exploded.’ Hermione’s voice sounded cowed and she didn’t look at the teacher. She knew she was on tricky ground with Snape.
‘I don’t recall telling you that you could help Longbottom with his potion, Miss Granger.’ Snape’s voice was even colder now. ‘Twenty points from Gryffindor for your presumption and for being so interfering.’
The other Gryffindors in the class all complained loudly at this blatantly unfair punishment but Hermione said nothing, knowing after all the years of unfair treatment from the Potions Master that remonstrating wouldn’t help the situation. However, small points of red blazed on her cheeks as she attempted to remain calm.
‘And what have you done to your potion?’ Snape asked icily, looking at the frozen cauldron.
‘I put it into stasis, sir,’ Hermione said in a small voice, ‘while I helped Neville.’
Snape waved his wand and the potion, cauldron and associated ingredients disappeared, leaving only an empty workbench.
‘I did not ask you to put your potion into stasis, Miss Granger. That was nowhere in the instructions on how to brew the potion.’
‘No, sir. But I thought—’
Snape scowled harder than ever. ‘Miss Granger! Once again you have poked your insufferable know-it-all nose into business that doesn’t concern you. Another twenty points from Gryffindor for not following the recipe correctly for making your potion. You will obviously receive no mark for this assignment, and you can brew it again in detention with me at eight o’ clock tonight!’
Hermione looked as if she was about to cry. Everyone who knew her knew she wasn’t upset about the points taken or the detention, although she wouldn’t have been happy about them. What really stung her was having no mark awarded for her potion. Bending her head she sank into her seat, her sleeves brushing rapidly at her eyes as she tried to wipe the tears away. She wasn’t going to give Snape the satisfaction of seeing her in that state.
The taciturn teacher made his way around the classroom, clearing the rest of the potions that had been ruined. This had not been a successful class; only a handful of the students would be receiving any mark, and none would get a passing mark from him today.
As Snape sat back down behind his desk he noticed that Hermione’s head was still down. Perhaps he had overdone it this time. After all, the young woman’s quick thinking had stopped Longbottom blowing up the classroom and cleverly preserved her perfectly brewed potion . . . the potion he had vanished purely out of spite. He knew he was being unfair to her, but sometimes he just couldn’t help himself.
Letting his voice warm a couple of degrees, he said, ‘Miss Granger, I’d like to see you at the end of the lesson, please.’
Instantly, four pairs of eyes were on his, all wondering what he was up to, before looking towards Hermione to see how she would react. Hermione finally lifted her head off the table to look at him, nodding miserably. Snape noticed that her face was blotchy and red — she had been crying.
‘As this lesson has been a complete waste of time, I want you all to begin an essay about the problems of brewing an Elixir to Induce Euphoria, which you can finish for homework.’ Snape looked around at the whole class. ‘Clearly, this should not present a problem for any of you as you’ve all had first-hand experience,’ he sneered. ‘Three feet should cover it.’
He heard the groans as the students reached into bags for parchment, quills and ink.
‘There will be no need to talk,’ he reminded them as he settled back behind his desk.

Harry and Ron lingered over packing their bags as they waited for Hermione at the end of the lesson. They weren’t the only ones; Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson seemed to be taking their time, too.
‘Potter, Weasley, don’t you have classes to get to?’ Snape asked coldly, clearly having no intention of speaking to Hermione until they were alone. Draco and Pansy smirked. ‘Malfoy and Parkinson, I suggest you get to classes, too. I don’t want to hear you’ve got Slytherin House into trouble with tardiness.’ Snape’s voice was just as cold.
Their smirks faded as they grabbed their bags and the four of them headed for the door. Ron turned back to look at Hermione.
‘Go,’ she said stoically. ‘I’ll see you at lunchtime. Save me a seat.’ She gave her friends a small smile to show she was all right.
Finally, the room was empty. Snape closed the door with a wave of his wand as Hermione left her bag on the work bench and headed towards his desk.
‘Why were you so horrible to me?’ she asked as she reached the teacher, who stood up as she approached. Snape looked at her appraisingly as she spoke. ‘You know I stopped Neville from blowing up the classroom, and putting my potion in stasis was the only way to stop mine from going the same way while I helped him out.’
Snape inclined his head in agreement. ‘You’re right. I was harsh on you. I apologise.’
‘Harsh? No! Harsh is having a go at me for helping Neville when you know I stopped a big accident. But you went way beyond that. You took forty points from Gryffindor and gave me a detention.’ Hermione glared at the Potions Master. ‘And worse still, you vanished my perfectly brewed potion and gave me no mark for it!’ Her voice had risen to fever pitch and the points of red were back in her cheeks as her eyes flashed with fury. ‘That’s not harsh, that’s downright fucking sadistic!’
Snape smiled and grabbed Hermione’s shoulders, holding her tight as he pulled her to him.
‘I’m sorry, love,’ he said soothingly as he kissed the top of her head. ‘You’re right, I went too far.’ He tilted her face up as his lips found hers. ‘I just can’t help myself sometimes,’ he whispered before kissing her deeply.
‘Five points to Gryffindor,’ he said after the kiss had finished. ‘You see, I can give as well as take away.’ He grinned.
Hermione shook her head. ‘I don’t think that counts, though, does it?’ She still sounded annoyed.
‘Of course it does. I can give points for anything. I thought you knew that. How else do you think Gryffindor ended up almost three hundred points ahead of anyone else last month even taking into account the number of points Potter and Weasley managed to lose between them?’ He smirked.
A little mollified, Hermione gave a small chuckle. ‘If I’d realised the easiest way to win the House Cup was to give you a blowjob, I’d have done it years ago. So how many points do I get for each thing, then?’
Snape gave a dark smile. ‘I’m not telling you that. But some things are definitely worth more than others.’ He winked at her salaciously.
Hermione pulled away from him. ‘I’m still not happy about getting no mark for my potion,’ she said petulantly.
Snape gave a loud, put-upon sigh. ‘Oh, Hermione, if you don’t get a mark for the rest of the year you’re still going to have enough to get an Outstanding in your N.E.W.T., don’t worry about it.’
‘But I was enjoying making the potion,’ Hermione retorted.
Snape nodded. ‘I know that, which is why you’ll be making it tonight in detention.’
‘So that wasn’t just because you wanted to get me alone for a few more hours?’ Hermione asked, sounding surprised.
Snape shrugged. ‘That, too, of course. But I do want to see you finish the potion. It looked excellent, from what I could see. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll make up your score with the essay. But please, no more than three feet, love. I have enough to do with reading everyone else’s crap essays without having to trawl through an extra couple of feet from you, however entertaining it might be.’
‘I’ll try,’ Hermione promised. ‘But you know sometimes I can’t help it when I get a theory or point I want to discuss.’
Snape chuckled. ‘I know that. Well, just be aware that if you write over three feet I shall expect you to read it out loud to me, so just remember that before you use all those long words.’
Hermione punched him on the arm. ‘I have an extremely good vocabulary, thank you very much, and I have no trouble pronouncing the words I write.’ She looked at the clock. ‘I have to go. I need to get to Herbology . . . if you’ve finished apologising to me, that is?’
Snape pulled her into a kiss once more. ‘I’ll see you at eight o’ clock,’ he said smoothly.

Hermione ran across the lawn towards the greenhouses. She knew it was unlikely she would get into trouble from Professor Sprout for being late once she explained how she had been kept behind by Professor Snape, but she didn’t like to be late to lessons. She slowed as she saw the back of the class still heading across the grass and soon reached Draco Malfoy, who had stopped to wait for her. Hermione stopped and bent over, trying to get her breath back.
‘God, I’m unfit,’ she said as Draco took her bag from her while she wheezed. ‘Mind you, that’s a long bloody run all the way from the dungeons.’
‘Perhaps you need to get more exercise,’ Draco said wickedly, winking lewdly at her as he passed the bag back to her. ‘What did old Snape say? He was a bit harsh on you today.’
Hermione laughed bitterly. ‘God, you can tell you’re a bloody Slytherin,’ she retorted. ‘A bit harsh! That’s what he said. I told him he was completely fucking sadistic.’
Draco joined in laughing with her. ‘Bet he loved that. Mind you . . . you’d know.’
Hermione rolled her eyes, shaking her head. ‘I don’t care about the points and stuff, but what he did to my potion—’
‘I don’t know why you worry. You’re going to ace the exam anyway. So did he give you a big apology or was he shitty to you?’ Draco looked concerned.
‘The big apology, of course,’ Hermione said, her cheeks reddening again.
‘Good. I know you have your thing and that’s fine out of school, but he shouldn’t do it in classes.’
Hermione gave a snort of laughter and shook her head as if in amazement. ‘Draco, he’s always treated me this way, ever since I started at Hogwarts. It’s only now I get an apology when he goes too far. He used to go out of his way to upset me.’ Draco looked unconvinced. ‘How much notice did you take?’ Hermione asked seriously. ‘You used to delight in the fact that he was tearing me off a strip, remember?’
Draco looked rueful. ‘Yeah, you’re right, I suppose. I never really thought about it before. I guess I notice it more now, you know?’
Hermione hoisted her bag over her shoulder, then pulled on his arm. ‘Come on, we’d better go. Everyone else has gone in.’ She looked ahead, then said a little less happily, ‘Oh, no, it looks like we’re in Greenhouse Three. That doesn’t bode well. Are you going to be my partner today?’
Draco smiled lasciviously. ‘I’ll be your partner any time you want me, Hermione. You know you only have to ask.’
Hermione shook her head again. ‘Come on, Romeo. Let’s go and re-pot some Mandrakes . . . if we’re lucky.’
They both grimaced, then headed off towards the greenhouse door.

Hermione lay on her bed, thinking back to when it had all started. For years she, Ron and Harry had been inseparable, spending all their time together, helping each other out of trouble and being picked on by the evil Slytherins — Malfoy, his goons, even his girlfriend Parkinson — and being persecuted by snarky Professor Snape, the dark and brooding Potions Master who was also Head of Slytherin House.
But then Ron had joined Harry on the Quidditch team, and the time the three of them spent together had grown less frequent. Most evenings Harry and Ron were out practising, while Hermione sat in the common room, or more commonly the Library, doing her homework and generally researching topics of interest.
It was during one of these evenings of boredom that she had signed up to help Professor Snape with a project he was working on, believing that whilst the man was a bully and probably the most unpleasant person she had ever met, with the possible exception of the Malfoy family, he was an excellent potions maker and could teach her a lot outside of the curriculum, given half a chance, which would be useful as she was considering training to become a Healer when she left school.
Harry and Ron had baulked at her decision, but Hermione wasn’t one to miss out on a golden opportunity just because of a personality clash. And so one evening, whilst her friends were off practising Quidditch, she had found herself in a classroom with Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Ernie MacMillan and Professor Snape.
The students were split into pairs, and Hermione and Ernie naturally gravitated towards each other as neither relished working, or more likely battling, with a Slytherin, and for a few weeks they worked on the research for the project perfectly happily.
Then Ernie caught the flu and ended up in the Hospital Wing, leaving Hermione on her own — still researching, but now having to put up with sly digs from the Slytherins, who complained constantly about having to work with a Mudblood.
Snape, biased as he was towards his own House and always scornful of Hermione anyway, let them bitch, and several evenings finished with Hermione either close to expulsion from wanting to hex them all into oblivion or running off before they could see the tears they had caused.
She was astonished when a few short weeks later only she and Draco were left on the project. More surprising and infinitely creepier was the way Draco had begun acting towards her. Instead of the brash insults he had always thrown her way he was complimentary and friendly — if anything, over-friendly — occasionally touching her arm or grabbing her hand.
her friend. He was their nemesis, and Ron and Harry would definitely not be pleased with her notHe even offered to walk her back to her common room one night, which she refused point-blank to even consider. Draco Malfoy was socialising with him for however brief a time.
At first, her snub seemed to annoy the boy, but soon he was treating her turn-downs as a joke, hinting that she would eventually give in to his charms. But this was only in the project. Outside of that, he was as mean and small-minded as ever, seeming to take even greater pleasure in putting her down when she was with her friends.
Then, finally, the day came when she was the only attendee. At first, Hermione assumed Professor Snape would cancel the project, with so few volunteers to help, but instead, he seemed pleased it was just the two of them. The slackers had been culled and now they could go forward, the Potions Master confident that his assistant was as serious about the project as he.
Hermione wasn’t sure when the uneasy truce between them turned into something more; when the sarcastic and biting comments became compliments; when the snarky ice cold demeanour that was all she had ever known of her teacher was lowered to reveal a warmer, far more pleasant side. At some point during their collaboration Hermione realised she no longer felt so antagonistic towards Professor Snap; in fact, she rather enjoyed his company and acerbic wit.
Of course, this didn’t extend outside of the project, either. In classes he was still the same snarky bastard he had always been; still treating her as if she was some sort of pond life. In fact, if anything, he seemed to pick on her even more often than before. But when they were alone he was great.
Hermione wouldn’t stretch as far as to say he was kind, but he was certainly considerate, and as the project progressed she found herself wanting to spend more and more time with him, almost to the exclusion of everything else.
She tried to tell herself she was just interested in the project and wanted to make some headway with it, but the truth was that she enjoyed Snape’s company outside of the classroom and relished spending time with him.
Hermione looked at her watch. She had twenty minutes before she had to meet Harry and Ron and she didn’t want to be late. Since her life had got . . . complicated, she had to work harder than ever to fit her friends into it and any time spent with them was worth the effort.
She wondered how they would feel if they knew what her life had become, but she didn’t dare tell them. If they weren’t completely horrified and disgusted they would probably pity her, and that was something she definitely didn’t want or need. For good or ill, she had chosen her life and it was something she was just going to have to live with.
Hermione lay back on the bed, thinking once more about Professor Snape. When had their relationship moved from colleagues to something more — to something sexual? She couldn’t remember exactly. It had moved so seamlessly it almost seemed as if they had always been a couple.
She tried to think back to the first time they had made love. She remembered parts of it: her surprise at how tender he could be, the intense pleasure he had given her, her guilt at being astonished that he had ever had sex before; as if he should have been waiting just for her. And she remembered his reluctance, too.
Just when he had driven her to the point of no return, when she would have done anything he asked of her just as long as he kept touching her, kept giving her that exquisite pleasure, he had pulled away. It turned out that he had assumed, along with the rest of the school it seemed, that because she had been seeing Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Quidditch player, she was no longer a virgin.
Hermione wondered why she had never heard about Krum’s reputation before or while she was with him. Although the Quidditch ace had indeed been very physical and had wanted to take the relationship further, Hermione hadn’t felt comfortable with the idea at the time and that was one of the reasons she had ended their relationship, although they had remained good friends afterwards.
When Professor Snape discovered she was still a virgin he had tried to end it, trying desperately to get rid of her; but Hermione’s stubborn insistence that the Potions Master was the only one she wanted, that she had no intention of going anywhere until he made love to her, eventually — against his better judgement, he had said at the time — persuaded him to let her stay.
And there she had been ever since. They still worked on the project — both were ever the scholars, after all, and it was important work that needed to be completed — but now the evenings finished with lovemaking rather than a wash-up of the evening’s work.
Hermione sighed. And that was when things had got complicated. When her life had turned into something she sometimes felt she had no control over any longer.
She sat up, shaking her head. She didn’t want to think about that now. She had to go and meet Ron and Harry, and if she appeared upset they would be all over her like a rash, wanting to know what was wrong.
Hermione quickly made her way to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face before running a brush through her bushy hair, although it didn’t make much difference. Then, having straightened her tie and tucked in her blouse, she made her way downstairs to where her friends were waiting for her.

‘Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine,’ Hermione assured Harry and Ron later that evening as they left her outside the door of the Potions classroom, ready for her detention. ‘Have a good practice. We need to beat Ravenclaw tomorrow.’
‘See you in the common room later?’ Ron asked.
‘Definitely. I don’t know if Professor Snape’s going to want to work on the project after I’ve brewed the potion, but I should be back by eleven hopefully.’
She knocked on the door to the classroom, then opened it and entered. Harry and Ron stood there, still watching her.
‘You’ll be late for practice,’ she said, shooing them away with a smile and waving as the boys took off up the corridor.
‘Good evening, Miss Granger,’ Snape said smoothly, his dark voice neutral as Hermione closed the classroom door.
‘Good evening, Professor Snape,’ Hermione replied, stopping at her usual workbench and rummaging in her bag for her Potions kit.
‘I thought we might use my private laboratory as I don’t have anyone else in detention this evening,’ Snape told her. ‘Once your potion is made we can move onto working on the project if you wish.’
Hermione nodded, picking up her kit. Snape picked up her bag and threw it easily over his shoulder as he led her into his study and through another door into his laboratory. Once the door was closed and the bag and kit had been placed on the workbench Snape pulled Hermione to him, his lips finding hers in a sensual kiss and his hands slid up beneath her jumper, seeking out her breasts.
‘I need to start the potion,’ Hermione said with a small giggle as they broke apart. She was aware of how stiff her nipples were and of the arousal between her legs.
‘Plenty of time,’ Snape crooned as he tried to pull her close again.
‘No. Plenty of time for this later,’ Hermione admonished. ‘Severus, I need to brew this potion. You know I do.’
Snape nodded and, smiling, moved to let her get the equipment and ingredients. He watched silently as she worked. Hermione was a methodical and patient worker, as much of a perfectionist about preparing her ingredients as he was, never cutting corners in an effort to save time.
Once the potion was bubbling away Hermione checked her watch, then smiled up at Snape.
‘We have ten minutes. What do you suggest we do?’
Snape grunted. ‘Nothing much of interest in that time.’ Hermione walked over to him and wrapped her arms about his waist, her mouth finding his as she pressed against him. ‘Nothing that I’d like to do, anyway,’ he amended wickedly as his lips found her throat, squashing her to him as his erection pressed against her.
‘Later,’ Hermione replied breathily, arching her back as Snape’s mouth continued down her neck, his hands pulling at her jumper.
‘I need to touch you,’ he whispered as she raised her arms. The jumper was quickly pulled above her head and off and thrown onto a spare workbench.
Before she had a chance to lower her arms Snape buried his face in her breasts, enjoying the tautness that was increased by her raised arms. Hermione giggled and her arms went around his neck, stroking his shoulders as he rapidly unbuttoned the blouse. He licked her skin as his hands attacked her breasts once more, thumbs rubbing the erect nipples through the lacy material of her bra.
‘Stop it,’ she whispered, although her tone wasn’t convincing. It wasn’t helped by the fact that she was pressing herself against him, rubbing against his leg as he slid it between hers.
‘You don’t really want me to stop,’ Snape said seductively, his mouth leaving whisper-soft kisses down her throat towards her breasts. ‘In fact, I bet you’d like me to fuck you right now.’
‘No time,’ Hermione managed, and she tried to pull out of Snape’s grasp. She looked at her watch. ‘Four minutes left.’ She groaned as his hands unclasped her bra and slid round to capture her breasts, one in each hand.
‘Time enough for this, then,’ Snape replied with a grin, his mouth dipping to capture a nipple as his hand released, then pushed up her breast.
Hermione moaned loudly, her pleasure evident as she pressed into him, enjoying the feeling of his tongue laving at the hard nipple. She glanced at her watch again.
‘Let me go,’ she whispered. ‘Please.’
Reluctantly, Snape released his grip, watching with intense desire as Hermione turned back to her potion. Five stirs anti-clockwise and a quarter-turn clockwise and the dragon scales were added. She watched the mixture intently, making sure that it reacted in the way she expected. Snape watched, too, torn between enjoying watching the potion that was being brewed and the sexy young woman brewing it. In her semi-clad state, Hermione looked even more alluring than usual; he couldn’t wait to get back to making love to her.
Finally, the potion was complete, perfect as Hermione’s potions always were, and she bottled and labelled it. Snape waved his wand, vanishing the ingredients and cleaning the cauldron. He didn’t want to waste any more time; they had much better things they could be doing.
Smiling, Hermione walked towards him, calling out with excitement. Her back arched as his mouth found her breasts once more, tongue licking over one nipple then capturing the other.
‘Ten points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger,’ Snape whispered as he pressed her back against the desk, his leg pushing hers apart as he continued to play with her breasts.
‘Take me to bed, Severus,’ Hermione whispered.
Her lover picked her up and carried her carefully into his private quarters, through the sombre lounge and into the dimly lit bedroom. Depositing her on the large four-poster bed, Snape looked intently at Hermione for a moment before leaning over to kiss her once more.
‘No time for games tonight,’ he whispered as his hands found the waistband of her skirt, his long, lithe fingers undoing both the button and zip in short order. She, in turn, reached for him, moaning with frustration at the number of buttons on his frock coat. Smiling, he waved his wand lazily and the coat vanished along with the shirt he wore; a small grunt of pleasure escaping his lips as Hermione’s mouth found his own stiff nipples.
Removing her skirt, Snape concentrated on taking off her knickers, small lacy things that were in the way of that which he wanted so much. He pushed Hermione onto her back and his mouth sought her breasts again before moving slowly down her naked body, over her flat stomach and towards her bare mound, finally licking around the hard nub of her clit and making her cry out with pleasure while he revelled in the precious taste of her.
Further down his tongue explored, gently caressing her soft lips then pressing into the wetness that was the core of her. Hermione cried out, running her fingers through his hair as he continued to pleasure her and calling out his name in a breathless whisper as he brought her to climax, his long fingers joining his tongue in coaxing her over the edge.
Hermione’s hands worked desperately on Snape’s trousers, pulling them down and taking his underpants with them. This was no time for decorum. She needed to get to what lay beneath. Within seconds her hand was wrapped around Snape’s hard length and she smiled as his moans of pleasure overtook her own.
‘Fuck me, Severus, please,’ Hermione begged, guiding him towards her body, moaning with desire as the head of his erection rubbed against her.
‘With pleasure, love,’ Snape replied, and he slid into his willing partner, his own desire released in a loud, deep groan.
His arms wrapped around Hermione, holding her close as he slid in and out of her, his thrusts matching hers as the two of them worked together to give each other exquisite pleasure. Soon Hermione’s contracting muscles and her shallow, laboured breathing served to bring him close to orgasm, thrusting harder and deeper into his lover as she begged.
Hermione’s cries escalated as she hovered once more on the brink of climax, and Snape let himself go, coming deep inside her with a roar and whispering her name over and over again into her hair as he filled her with his seed. Seconds later she, too, was coming again, tears spilling down her cheeks as the emotion of the massive orgasm washed over her.
Still holding her tightly in the afterglow of their lovemaking, Snape kissed the top of Hermione’s head as he gently stroked her beautiful naked body, enjoying, as always, the feel of her soft skin beneath his fingers.
‘Lucius wants to see you,’ he said quietly. ‘He’s talking about having a party.’
‘Not another “Mistresses” party,’ Hermione groaned. ‘You know what happened last time. It was a nightmare. I spent most of the evening trying to stop Crabbe and Goyle’s dads from groping me. They seemed to be under the impression I was fair game because I was at the party.’
Snape smirked. ‘Well, most of the mistresses are. Anyway, you didn’t do too badly, as I recall.’
Hermione blushed. ‘Well, it wasn’t what I expected. I didn’t anticipate you would hand me over quite so easily.’ She sounded hurt.
‘It was your choice,’ Snape reminded her with amusement. ‘And I haven’t noticed you complaining at the attention,’ he added slyly.
‘Do I have any choice?’ Hermione asked.
Snape thought for a moment as his fingers continued to trace patterns on Hermione’s skin. ‘If you’re really unhappy about it,’ he said seriously, looking at her intently.
Hermione shook her head. ‘No, of course I’m not. How could I be unhappy with the amount of enjoyment I get? But sometimes I wish it was just you and me still. Do you love me, Severus, or is this all just some sort of a game for you?’
Snape pulled her into a kiss, long and lingering and designed to tell Hermione exactly how he felt about her, and felt her melt in his arms.
‘Of course I love you, Hermione. Surely you must know that by now?’
Hermione gave a slight frown. ‘Sometimes I wonder,’ she said honestly.
‘What makes you wonder?’ Snape asked, sounding a little confused.
‘All of it. If you love me . . . .’ She broke off worriedly.
‘We’ll stop whenever you want,’ Snape said, gently stroking her face. ‘You say the word and it stops, all of it. At the end of the day, your happiness is the important thing. Seriously, Hermione, tell me and it stops.’
‘I love you, Severus,’ Hermione told him, and she kissed him once more.

Hermione found herself thinking about Lucius’ party as she walked back to the common room to meet Harry and Ron. She had heard what Severus had said about her only needing to say she’d had enough to get her life back under control, but somehow she had a feeling it wasn’t going to be quite that simple. There was no time to consider that now, though. She had friends to talk to. Friends who knew nothing about this secret life she had got herself into.
She stepped through the portrait hole, spotting the boys immediately. They were talking to Ginny, who was sitting so close to Harry they were almost one. Hermione smiled. Surely Harry must have realised by now how much Ginny fancied him, although Ron’s over-protectiveness towards his sister would be enough to put anyone off. She dumped her bag on the floor and dropped down onto the sofa next to Ron.
‘How was detention?’ Harry asked.
‘Well, I got the potion made, which was all I wanted to do. Perfectly, too, so I got some points back.’ Hermione said with a smile.
Ron looked surprised. ‘The greasy git gave you points? Why? He never gives points to Gryffindor.’
Hermione shrugged. ‘I think he realised he had overreacted in class. After all, I did quite literally stop Neville blowing up the dungeons. He gave me points so he didn’t have to apologise, I guess. Anyway, enough about my detention. How did practice go?’
The next thirty minutes were taken up with discussion about Quidditch, both the practice that had taken place that evening and the upcoming game against Ravenclaw the following morning. Hermione listened intently, although she couldn’t follow everything that was being discussed. As much as she enjoyed watching Quidditch, she wasn’t anywhere near as fanatical about the game as her friends were.
She stifled a yawn, surreptitiously rubbing her tired eyes. Concentrating on brewing the potion twice in one day had made her tired. The rather vigorous post-detention exercise hadn’t helped, either.
‘You all right, Hermione?’ Ron asked.
Hermione nodded as she gave another huge yawn. ‘I’m knackered,’ she admitted. ‘I think I need to go to bed. Sorry.’
Ron smirked. ‘The great greasy git worn you out, has he?’ He winked.
Hermione laughed. ‘I guess he did.’ She gave an amused frown. ‘I wonder how many people can say that?’
The others laughed, although they all looked a little disgusted at the idea.
‘See you in the morning. You are going to have breakfast before you play, aren’t you?’ Hermione asked.
Ron looked queasy suddenly, even as Ginny and Harry nodded their heads vigorously.
‘He’ll be there,’ Ginny said, patting her brother on the shoulder. ‘We don’t want him fainting in the middle of the match, do we?’
‘He’s going to be brilliant,’ Hermione said confidently with a smile. ‘He always is.’
She picked up her bag and headed for the stairs, eager to find her bed.
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Slytherin Toy