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Doing it for the Order Complete	By : Desert_Sea Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 72673 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters/things/places created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money from my fan-fiction.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
A/N: And to my lovely American friends, a small reference in this chapter for your enjoyment, DSx
Anon: I hope you stay hooked! X
Kvarta: ‘he share same fate as Snape from canon’ – I felt so bad about this L I’m sorry to make light of it. I really didn’t expect that to be your answer – deepest apologies xx ‘finally she is using that brain of hers, so far she was riding the wave of emotional turmoil’ – indeed, she has been thinking but mainly about her own emotions. ‘I'm glad I'm not the only one who see Albus in this light, manipulative and cruel’ – or practical and goal-focused? ‘I was literally growling at my PC, so much that my hun thought I'm ready for a mental ward’ – LOL. My hun is always preparing’ me for the mental ward. :) ‘So clumsy and fluffy at the same time’ – glad you enjoyed it and your hun didn’t have to listen to you growling throughout! ‘Why do I see her buried in the books on that subject in the near future?’ – or she may seek out some practical tuition? ‘I sort of always imagined Snape to have what is called "Roman nose", I'm wondering do you see it the same way?’ – absolutely! ‘I love the way your brain works’ – believe me, it’s pretty scary most of the time. ‘Maybe you could consider to make a sort of manual I can share with large number of my female friend who opted to learn from former mentioned source’ – this cracked me up. Just get them to read fanfic! ‘Ok sister, it's not what HE needs, oh well, she'll find out soon – hahaha! ‘I'm still waiting for romance part to kicks in, but knowing how you write, that will take some time and it is going to be nerve wracking slow.’ – all good things to those who wait :) x
OO: ‘Oral first aid is a lost art.’ – I believe it is an ancient tradition that you have studied in depth? ‘You've been keeping the prose under wraps in this story, haven't you?’ – excellent, thanks for noticing. Yes, it has been quite mechanical so far. Very few descriptions of their features, voices etc. More introspection as they are mainly seeing themselves, not each other. ‘The language has been much more clinical to match their detached and perfunctory connection’ – lovely! ‘Hermione's pedantic petting techniques’ – hahaha, she is such a pedantic petter. ‘Oh and I spotted that pitched’ – I always try to put one in there for you. Waldo!
Fox: ‘Seriously, woman you are like a machine gun’ – I don’t like to get too bogged down :) ‘Surely, if he sees someone attractive, he will finish sooner? No?’ – You and I know that but she’s still in protection mode and not thinking much beyond that. ‘But can I have Snape if she doesn't want him?’ – well I’m not sure after this chapter. Let me know what you think. ‘You left like... seventeen thousand hints...’ – I’m just never sure if they get through :) ‘I guess, he will have to tie her down next time’ – mmm, I like where you’re going with that. ‘It's a seriously sinister innuendo’ – yes our newly appointed Death Eater is taking his role pretty seriously and he would be just as concerned about the demands upon him as the rest of them. ‘Am I allowed to say it was beautiful?’ – Please do!! ‘But I think he new what was happening around and with him’ – that’s interesting, I was wondering how many people would suspect that. You are the first one but I agree, he seemed to be foxing a bit (pun intended!) ‘Ohh and by the way, I love your chapter titles ;-)’ – thank you so much for taking the time to write three reviews on the trot! x
Faerieduster: ‘A bit of relief after all the evil cliffhanging you've put us through’ – ummm, don’t look now! ‘Immature, scared, defiant, denying, atoning.’ – I love your summation of her, she is all those and she is evolving. Thank you x

Chapter 10 – Not What He Ordered

“I’m early.” Hermione sat down quickly, her eyes darting about to check that no one was eavesdropping.
“You are, in fact, eight minutes late,” Snape replied sternly, scanning the stack of books that Hermione had just dumped on the table in front of him.
“No.” Her eyes flickered uncomfortably up to meet his before sliding away. “I mean . . . I’m early. My period . . . it’s come earlier . . . than expected.”
He stared at her, comprehension dawning.
Flushing with a combination of embarrassment and anger, she sought to defend herself. “It’s because you’ve been going in there and—”
“Yes, alright,” he interrupted, raising his palm to placate her.
He’d been aware that their activities may interrupt things, especially since it was her first time. And even though she’d indicated after their most recent engagement that the timing shouldn’t pose an issue, it was clear that they should have met up earlier in the week. It was his fault. He should have raised the possibility—taken steps to avoid it.
“This is not your concern, Miss Granger,” he stated, fixing her with his black gaze. “I will make alternative arrangements.”
Despite his casual assurances, Hermione knew he didn’t have a range of options to choose from. In fact, she doubted there were any readily available opportunities at all. And that’s why she’d been running late for their meeting. She and Ginny had been . . . busy.
“I’ve compiled a list,” she informed him, reaching down to withdraw a roll of parchment from her bag. “From the Muggle newspapers. These are ten venues holding ‘Singles Nights’ this Friday. I believe they would be your best option for . . . picking up an appropriate . . . person.”
Why was it so difficult to talk about this? They’d had sex four times now. How could conversing be harder than fucking?
The displeasure was evident on his face but the fact that he eventually took the parchment from her hand verified that he really was in a bind.
Scanning the page briefly, he delivered a curt nod and rolled it back up. “I appreciate . . . your consideration.”
Hermione held in a sigh. He was as bad at this as she was.
“I can help you to prepare . . . if you wish?”
His expression became wary. “Prepare?”
“Yes—you know, work out what to wear and how to approach—”
“That won’t be necessary.” He gave a small dismissive flick of his fingers before lifting a book from the pile as though suddenly keenly interested.
He was only pretending to be unconcerned; she was sure of it. He’d revealed in Madam Puddifoots that one of his two previous encounters had gone badly. No doubt that was still playing on his mind. Indeed, if he was any good at ‘picking up’ he wouldn’t need her at all and he certainly wouldn’t need Dumbledore to match him up with certain ‘acquaintances’.
“What are you going to wear?”
He glanced up from the book. “I believe I’ve made it clear that I don’t require your assistance any further.”
“Because if it’s what you have on now, you won’t stand a chance.”
He frowned down at his attire. “I’m not going to be wearing robes, am I,” he responded irritably.
“It’s not just the robes.” Hermione’s voice dropped as a student walked past. “You look too formal. You’ll scare people away.”
He glared, a tinge of colour rising in his cheeks. She’d embarrassed him. He really was far more sensitive than she’d ever expected.
“Do you own a black shirt?” she continued, undeterred. “I believe you could pair it with your usual black trousers, but don’t button it up so high, you need to look casual. And Muggle men your age don’t generally have hair that long, unless they’re artists or musicians or—”
His frown had deepened to a point that would normally cause her to shut up if they were in the classroom but she needed to finish.
“Anyway, I recommend that you tie it back, just something low should do. And . . . and . . . finally, you should wear an eye-patch.”
“A what?!” he growled.
She looked around to see if anyone else had been as alarmed by his outburst as she was. Luckily, it was late enough for most students to have returned to their common rooms—the library was almost empty.
“Is this to make me less likely to ‘scare people away’?” he sneered.
“Listen.” Hermione stated firmly. “You never smile. You glare. You scowl. I’m not sure if you’re always aware that you’re doing it, but a black eye-patch will make you look interesting and . . . mysterious. It can be an icebreaker. People will assume that you’re frowning due to some exotic or heroic circumstance not because you’re a . . . miserable git.”
The last words dropped out of Hermione’s mouth before she could stop them. She, Ron and Harry had referred to him as such so often that she forgot that it might not be something he would know . . . or appreciate.
“Whilst I acknowledge your sage advice, garnered no doubt from your vast experience in such matters,” he muttered snidely, leaning toward her. “I will thank you to stay out of my affairs.”
His affairs? Her eyebrows lurched up in disbelief as she leaned in further, aware that she was now uncomfortably close.
“It is patently clear that you consider me to be hopelessly naïve and pathetically inexperienced, Professor,” she snipped. “However, I am a female. And I do actually know something about attraction.” She suddenly felt herself warming and drew back a little. “You are intimidating. Muggle women won’t approach you as you are. It’s up to you whether you want this to be successful or not.” The faint shuttering of his eyes was distracting but she continued. “And I would argue that I’m pretty bloody well embroiled in your affairs at this point. So kindly inform me if my services are no longer required as I would happily divest myself of the responsibility.”
He stared at her. She was so bloody difficult. But so . . .
He sighed. “I don’t take your sacrifices on my behalf for granted despite what you may think. Indeed, perhaps I should have expressed my appreciation before now.” His gaze dropped to the book before him as though hoping for a prompt. “This is not a circumstance that I would have chosen for myself, let alone another, especially a student.” She watched as he seemed to be lost in reflection before gathering himself and addressing her directly. “However, you must understand that this arrangement does not extend to a natural requirement for styling and relationship advice, no matter how well intended.”
Hermione stood and collected her books.
“With respect, Professor, I believe that it does. I have invested a significant amount of psychological and emotional energy to date and I would expect you to do everything in your power to ensure that my efforts on your behalf are repaid with equal effort of your own.”
“You suppose that I’m not trying?” His eyes flashed.
“I don’t suppose anything. I just expect you to want to succeed.”
She snatched up her bag and disappeared between the towers of books.
A fucking eye-patch? She was the only person who could deliver advice in a way that made him feel simultaneously insulted, incredulous and . . . appreciative. But that was her in a nutshell. He vacillated between wanting to strangle her and wanting to . . . He quickly raked his fingers through his hair. It wasn’t something he usually did around students as it made him appear capricious. But it also helped him to clear his thoughts.
She wasn’t always brittle. Sometimes she was quiet, gentle. She’d laid with her head upon his chest, breathing softly, and he’d wanted to stroke her. But why? For what purpose? There was nothing to be gained from it and yet it had taken all of his effort to still himself.
If he were truly thankful he would never consider taking advantage of her. After all, she was approaching this as seriously as he. And it was clearly requiring a huge amount of effort. The image of her riding him, obviously conflicted, and yet bringing herself to release was . . . striking. Dumbledore was right; she was courageous. Yet there was something about bravery when it was worn as a badge of honour as it was with her. Sometimes it was an impossible force to counter, even when the better choice was to back down—to turn away—even to run.
***
“What happened to your eye, Honey?”
She wasn’t bad. American by the sounds of it. But he was already holding a drink for another who had needed to ‘rush off to the loo’ and so sufficed with a wink. It probably didn’t look like a wink since the other eye was covered, but she’d flashed a smile in return. If he didn’t have any luck with the other one, he might seek her out.
It was almost unconscionable how well the eye-patch had worked. Not only did it attract attention and gain him sympathy, it almost felt like a disguise—a little protection—to the point that he found himself flirting with ease—something he’d never felt inclined to do, or particularly good at in the past.
The black shirt had also been a well-advised purchase. He’d bought it in an expensive Muggle shop where the sales assistant had assured him that the ‘fitted look’ was ‘in’ as she gratuitously stroked her hands across his chest. He’d been in half a mind to pursue her and avoid wasting an evening trawling the singles bars but the ambience had been all wrong.
Now he was standing in a crowded bar, low lights flickering in time with the music, a few drinks under his belt and confident of a ‘successful’ evening.
“Thanks!” The girl bounced up, having finally returned from ‘the loo,’ make-up freshly applied, breasts sitting a little higher, neckline a little lower.
He handed her the glass and she clamped her bright red lips around the straw, sucking hard.
“I was thinking . . .” she spoke loudly over the din of music and voices. “Do you want to come back to mine? My flat-mate is away and we could . . . you know?”
He placed a hand on her waist before leaning down.
“Sounds enticing.” He traced his thumb downward until he was massaging the dip adjacent to her pubic bone. She pressed against him. “However, I must confess something.”
“Mmm?” She was sucking at the straw again.
“Anything we engage in must be . . . unprotected . . . because I have a condition due to my . . .” He raised his finger and tapped the eye-patch.
She frowned, understandably confused. It was probably the most ridiculous thing he’d ever said in his life.
But then she shrugged. “I’ll just get the morning after pill. You don’t have any diseases do you?”
“Only this.” He tapped the eye patch again. “And it’s not contagious.”
That seemed to be enough. There was something to be said for stupidity—or simply not wishing to disrupt a good delusion. Either way, she snatched the straw from her glass and downed the rest before flinging it away.
“I really hope you’ve got a big dick,” she murmured in his ear before raising a seductive eyebrow and dragging him by the hand out the door.
***
“Is it your condition?”
He dragged a hand across his mouth, quite unable to believe what was happening.
“Perhaps.”
“Do you want to touch my tits some more?” She jiggled them in his face.
He didn’t think it would help. Had the enchantment actually caused some permanent damage? It seemed unlikely since he’d managed an erection since. And he’d come.
“Should I suck it some more?” She grasped his flaccid member in her fist and wiggled it about.
“No,” he replied abruptly. “I think it’s . . . it’s definitely my condition. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”
“You could still eat my pussy,” she pouted. “This isn’t all about you.”
“Actually, I’m afraid it is.” He rolled off the bed and reached into his coat on the floor, bringing out his wand.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, her voice rising in panic.
“Obliviate!”
He left her standing in the bedroom, stunned.
If only he could Obliviate himself—remove the memories that had somehow chained themselves to his arousal. He didn’t understand why it had happened—especially considering the manner of their engagement. But it was a significant problem. Or at least it would be if he hadn’t finally run out of luck . . . and time.
He had no choice but to return to Hogwarts and allow the remaining hours of his life to tick away. At least he could tell her—indeed tell them all—that he had tried.
- 9
- 10
- 11
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Doing it for the Order *Complete*

Doing it for the Order Complete