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The Fantasy Book	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 44517 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 6
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
- 10
- 11
- 12
A/N: Terribly sorry for the delay in the update! But please enjoy! And please review!

She’d debated for nearly an hour on which fantasy to use. And she’d shed the remainder of her garments and his, thinking perhaps full body contact as they’d had in the bath would be most helpful. He slumbered gently against her person and her fingers never tired of stroking through his hair. Hermione had contemplated revisiting the pirate fantasy but then thought better of it. His mixed responses troubled her but she was determined to succeed. The book pages rustled as she flipped through them one after the next, searching for something inspiring. Her hands stilled their motions when she came to a page near the beginning of the book and a smile crossed her lips.

            “Let’s see how you feel about rain…” she mused and drew in a deep breath. Hermione set to her work of reliving the fantasy with him pressed against her, both of them still naked.

            The night had been gloomy at best when she’d set out across the grounds. Students were not allowed outside after dark but she had been given special permission to meet Professor Sprout for a project. Only just before she’d departed for said project a note had arrived at her dormitory stating that said professor wouldn’t be arriving until after midnight as a few of her more time-sensitive plants needed harvesting, but that it was alright to forge ahead without her and that she would meet up with her when all the harvesting was completed.

            The notion of being out on the grounds late at night by herself wasn’t what bothered her. It was more the location of where she would end up harvesting these particular berries that gave her feelings of unease. Professor Sprout had marked a map with indicators behind Greenhouse #17, leading down a trail into the Forbidden Forest. Over the years she had entered the forest several times but this did little to calm Hermione’s nerves. Although the Dark Lord was no longer a question there were still plenty of unsavory things that would all too happily bring her life to a quick and painful end awaiting her in the shroud of the trees.

            She followed the map into the woods, the glow from the tip of her wand the only guiding light. Trees were knotted tightly together preventing any moonlight that might have lit her way from filtering down to the forest floor. Why did she only ever find herself in the forest at night? The path grew bumpy, overgrown tree roots and gnarled fallen limbs blocking her way in places but she navigated around or over them and in no time had made her way to the clearing. It was offset from the path just to the right and what she saw amazed her.

            Soft loamy soil of the richest brown colour covered the earth in a circular clearing perhaps no more than 8 feet in diameter. The edge of the circle was line with enormous stones, smooth and blanched white looking like great rocks of the sea that had been washed over by a thousand years of waves. Trees, though taller here, grew straight up allowing the sky to bath the circle in a pool of moonlight giving the clearing an almost iridescent glow.

            At the center of the clearing was a single plant, so low to the ground that had the leaves not been a bright shade of green it would have blended right into the soil. Bushy umbrella like leaves sprouted from this plant and Hermione knew she was in the right place. Donned in a pair of torn muggle jeans and a thin black singlet she knelt into the soft soil. The earth was cool against her legs, squishing slightly against her exposed skin through the tears in her jeans. Professor Sprout had advised to dress in comfortable clothes that she didn’t mind getting messy as the soil at times could get quite damp and often muddy.

            Hermione reached into her back pocket and withdrew two tiny objects. With a flick of her wrist and a wave of her wand the objects were restored to full size. The first of the two objects was a simple woven wicker basket lined with a black silk cloth. It was round with a handle nothing out of the ordinary when it came to baskets. The second was a small trowel fashioned out of clay. Professor Sprout had said that the clay trowel moved more easily through the soil not disturbing the natural minerals because of its natural composition.

            The instructions were simple enough, dig around the root of the plant and begin to tug the roots up one by one. The Persimba Berry Plant, the rare umbrella leaf bush that grew before her eyes, was hard to find but its berries, that grew dangling on the plant’s roots, were used in many restorative potions; their healing properties were strong. She’d only seen the berries in their dried and powdered form in both potions class and the hospital wing storerooms, and a chance to harvest them fresh from the root thrilled her. Hermione had never taken much of a shine to Herbology, of course she excelled in the subject as she did all of her subjects, until she realized how closely linked it was to potions and healing.

            Thunder rumbled overhead and Hermione gazed up toward the sky. She frowned. A huge black storm cloud seemed to have rolled in over the clearing from nowhere. There was no lightning. Hermione shrugged. If it was going to rain at least the tree cover would protect her from it and she was dressed for the mud anyhow. The night’s breeze was warm as it tickled her cheek. She grasped the trowel and began to dig around the base of the plant. In no time she had free the first line of root. Dangling from little tendrils all along the length of the root were bright purple berries. They were plump and full, the purple skin somewhat translucent in places allowing for their silvery liquid center to be seen. Hermione plucked the first one from the root and placed it gently in the basket.

            A raindrop splattered against the tip of Hermione’s nose. She went cross-eyed trying to see it before she gazed up at the sky. Her reward was another drop splattered across her cheek and a third splashing in her eye. Rain began to trickle down from above and Hermione sighed. It wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. The soil around her began to depress a bit and she sank into it. Her hands were already covered in dirt, but now they were starting to streak with mud. She did her best to keep her fingers clean as she plucked the berries one at a time from the root and placed them in the basket.

            Each berry was more ripe than the one before it; swollen full with the silvery juice but firm enough not to burst at a light touch. She pondered for a moment what they tasted like. Professor Sprout wouldn’t notice one missing berry, after all, and she’d only stripped the first root line down and already her basket was nearing full. Hermione held the bright purple berry between her fingers, examining it carefully. The skin was a shiny bright purple and in places the silver juice inside swirled through. It was wider than it was tall, plump and full, and ripe. The rain poured down through the gap in the trees, soaking Hermione’s hair, making mud at her knees.

            It was not a cold rain but rather a warm spring rain, dripping down heavily across her arms, her face and her chest. It felt inviting and a part of her wanted to stand up and dance; she wanted to find a puddle and splash in it. Perhaps just holding the berry too long was giving her fun and foolish notions. The Herbology professor had mentioned that it occasionally acted like a mild upper and a moderate aphrodisiac. She pulled the plump berry close to her lips and closed her eyes. Her lips parted as she drew the berry to her mouth.

            “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

            Startled, Hermione dropped the berry into the mud at her knees. She whirled around and her eyes went wide. Had he been standing any further back from the clearing he would have been hidden by the darkness of the night, his black robes acting like camouflage in the blackness of the forest. His skin seemed to glow almost ghostly white in the slivers of moonlight that sliced through the rain. Her body was soaked and she was covered in mud but that did not dull her senses as she watched him approach.

            If the rain phased him at all he did not lead on; Severus Snape stepped into the clearing, keeping his gaze on Hermione. “One taste could be dangerous…” he said.

            It took a moment for Hermione to regain control of her voice. He’d startled her and she’d let the shock paralyze her. Fortunately he was just a dark creature of the night, not the type that was looking to turn her into a late-night snack. His gaze wavered for a moment as he eyed the nearly full basket of berries. With a slight wave of his hand the basket glided to the edge of the clearing and landed on top of one of the smooth stones.

            “Where—” she began with a bit of a stutter but cleared her throat and quickly tried again. “Where is Professor Sprout?” she asked.

            “Detained.” He stated. “I have been sent to oversee your harvesting project.”

            “Unless you’ve brought more baskets, sir…” her voice trailed off as he produced a handful of shrunken baskets from the depths of his robes. The rain continued to fall as he used wandless magic to restore the baskets to their full size. Nearly a dozen of them landed in the mud near her knees. She nodded and returned to the plant, pulling a second root strand from the earth, careful to place the first one back into the wet soil. As it touched the dirt the bare root slithered down into the mud as if it were a worm seeking shelter from the rain. The new root seemed to hold even more berries than the first one had.

            She began to pluck the berries one at a time, rain obscuring her vision as she worked. It did not take her long to fill a second and then a third basket pulling only from the second root. Her body was soaked but she did not feel the chill. Mud was everywhere; she’d even managed to streak some across her cheek when she’d wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

            Hermione shuddered as she felt his warm breath against her ear. “We’ll be here all night if you’re going to do it that way, Miss Granger.” Severus had sank to his knees in the mud, kneeling just beside her, but more like hovering over her as he was a good two heads taller than her. She trembled as he reached over her shoulder and took her hand. “Start at the tip of the root…” his voice was a silky whisper, muddled with the sound of falling rain. Wrap your hand around it and squeeze up…the force of your hand will pop the berries from the root…” he guided her hand up and at once dozens of berries began to fall from and into the basket.

            When he released her hand a single berry had fallen into his palm. She gazed at his hand, the purple berry shining there with its vibrant semi-translucent skin. Severus rolled the berry off his palm until he held it between his thumb and forefinger. She felt her breath catch, her heart beginning to race as he drew the berry toward her lips. His head was just beside hers, leaning over her shoulder, his lips still dangerously close to her ear. The rain was soaking them both, her hair clinging to her face, droplets covering her skin.

            Hermione let her eyes fall closed and she could smell the sweet fragrance of the berry as he drew it up under her nose. It was smooth as it grazed her skin; he traced it across her lips and held it there; She was quivering as he pressed it firmly against her lips and she opened her mouth, letting her tongue slide around the berry, brushing against his finger. Pressing the berry against the roof of her mouth with her tongue she felt it explode, tart but sweet juice flooding her mouth. It was unlike anything she had ever tasted. It was metallic, but sweet, with a zingy tart flavor in the mix. Her body felt a surge of energy and thunder rumbled across the sky.

            She felt his lips against her ear and she leaned back, her back against his chest. Water ran down her face; the rain relentless. Hermione let her head fall back against his shoulder, exposing her neck to his mouth. His hands were cool, coated with mud as he touched her, stroked his palms across her arms and up over her collarbone. She tilted her head to the side and her lips brushed his. Wet tendrils of his hair were clinging to his narrow cheek bones, and she brushed the black strands aside, her eyes just barely open as she pressed her lips to his.

            Their tongues met the sweet flavor of the tangy juice still present in her mouth. He groaned, devouring her lips, leaning harder into her as if he could consume her. Severus dropped his hands to the ground once more, feeling the wet rich earth between his fingers, and slowly brought them across her stomach. He tugged at the fabric of the singlet. It felt like slow motion as he pulled it over her head and tossed it into the mud, exposing her clean, pale skin to the rain. His fingers streaked trails of the dark soil over her torso, up the side of her ribs and over her breasts. They were just big enough to spill out of his hand when he cupped them, now spotted and flecked with wet earth.

            It was a striking contrast, her pale pristine skin covered in places with the mud. Soothing and calming, it felt wonderful against her skin and she writhed into his touch, yearning to feel his hands exploring every inch of her body. She turned in the mud, slipping and falling back with a laugh, landing with her knees still folded beneath her, only her head and back now rested in the squishy soil. One hand had reached to the basket and plucked a plump berry while the other was fiddling with the zip on her jeans. She was a woman possessed; reaching up to press the berry to his lips as he leaned down over her. Hermione met him halfway, propping herself up on her elbows as he consumed the berry, and she watched as the pleasure streaked across his face.

            Her torn jeans were soaked tight to her body, stained heavy with mud and weighed down by the rain. It was nearly impossible to undo them but as she did she felt his hands on her hips, slowly peeling the fabric away from her skin. Severus took two berries and pressed them against her stomach, letting the juice bleed over her flesh, watching as the purple and silver streaked down her body, washed away by the rain. He lowered his head and placed his tongue against her naval, licking at the berry’s juice while she moaned.

            Her jeans came away and in the process so had her knickers. She was naked; laid flat in the mud with the rain and moon shining down on her. His hands were everywhere, pulling her up into his lap, turning her over in the mud, coating her with the rich wet soil. It should have felt dirty but she’d never felt more exhilarated in her life. She whimpered when he would pull his hands away, even if it was just for a moment to unhook the clasp on his robes, or to tug at the fabric of his own shirt.

            Hermione was kneeling once more and so was Severus. She was naked, he donned only his trousers. Their lips met as their hands stroked each other’s bodies, covered with the sweet thick mud, and berries, squishing the succulent juice against the other’s body. He licked her lips and caught her gaze, eyes smoldering with passion. Her hands were quaking as they met his trousers, much easier to pull down than her denim has been. But it did not take long before he too was naked.

            Severus tangled his hands in her hair and moved to kneel behind her. She braced herself and leaned over on her hands, sinking into the muddy soil as the rain sprayed down on them, harder than before but still comforting and still warm. He tugged, pulling her head back and she arched her back, spreading her legs for him. On his knees he moved close behind her, gripping her hip with one hand, the other remaining tangled in her hair.

            Hermione cried out when she felt him enter her. He was thick, and long, harder than any she’d ever felt before. The rain muffled her cries as he began to thrust into her hard from behind. She swayed with his thrusts, her elbows and hands covered in the rich dark mud. She felt his hand on her back, dragging berries and mud over her skin. It felt divine. She cried out as he hastened his pace, thrusting harder and faster into her tight quivering center. Again he tugged her hair and her neck arched back, causing her hips to rise. He thrust into her deeper, leaning over and kissing the small of her back, licking a trickle of silvery purple juice from her skin.

            Her world began to spin and she could feel her body tensing as she climaxed the sensations too much to handle all at once. She cried out, trembling and whimpering, as he thrust into her. He did not stop. Hermione was on the verge of exploding; so many pleasurable sensations raced through her body and then she felt her walls spasming again. She forced her hips back trying to hold him still, trying to keep his firm length inside of her but her pumped faster.

            Severus growled, releasing her hair and gripping both of her hips with his hands as he came. He shuddered, feeling his release explode inside of her. Rain poured down his skin. He was gasping for breath, his vision blurry from all the water. She had collapsed forward and was lying in the mud, panting, her back rising and falling rapidly. He too longed to collapse but held his ground as he reached a hand out and gripped her shoulder. Hermione was pulled up to her knees and she found herself facing him, her eyes still half closed, her breath coming in shaky gasps.

            They were covered in mud and berry juices but the rain was quickly washing it all away. She could not meet his gaze at first but he tilted her chin up and their eyes met. He pressed his lips to hers, and kissed her softly, tenderly. She shivered for a moment and then fell forward into his arms.

            Hermione moaned softly, having given in to her fantasy once more, stroking her fingers between her legs. She was nearly there, pressing her thumb hard against her sensitive nub. She came against her hand and whimpered softly, her legs shaking for only a moment. The book fell from her hand and clattered against the floor.

            Severus was still slumbering beside her and she frowned, but her frown melted into a smile when she noticed the upturned corner of his lip. He was smiling again. She bit her lower lip and pulled back the coverlet. It brought a blush to her cheeks, but he was responding to her fantasies once more and at full attention no less.

            She closed her eyes. “I shouldn’t…” she said aloud. But perhaps, though it was a wild idea filled with nothing but lunacy, perhaps it was the push he needed to draw his conscious into the real world. Her conscience waged war on itself as she tossed the idea about back and forth in her head. But her morale caved and a dark twinkle sparkled in her eyes. Hermione sat up, propping him up against the headboard with pillows behind him.

            She sat beside him and let his head rest against her shoulder. Her hand was trembling, she felt as if she couldn’t breathe and surely her hammering heart was enough to rouse even the deadest of men from a coma. Hermione closed her eyes, pulling the coverlet up over their laps. Perhaps if she didn’t see it, it somehow wouldn’t be as bad. Her hand came to rest on the top of his thigh. His flesh was warm, the soft hairs on his leg tickling her palm. She’d always wanted to touch him and had in many of her fantasies but this was different.

            A sharp inhale and she held her breath as she slowly wrapped her hand around his turgid member. She dared not to look. His erection was responding, twitching against her skin as she slowly started to stroke up the length of him. Hermione bit her lower lip, trying to suppress a moan. He felt amazing in her hand, thick and long, incredibly hard yet still malleable. She wrapped her palm over his tip and felt a tiny bead of pre-cum against her skin. Slowly back down the length of his shaft, twisting her wrist, and then up again, over the tip and then slowly back down. She established a rhythm quickly, varying how she twisted her hand and fingers, using her thumb to swipe over his tip.

            It was difficult to turn her body onto her without breaking her concentration as she worked her hand over his erection, but she managed and then she slowly slid her other hand under the coverlet. His balls were heavy, and she gave them a gentle squeeze. His shaft stiffened and she felt the head contract against her palm. She needed to bring him release. Hermione continued to squeeze him, using her other hand to pump up and down his shaft. Her palm cupped over his tip just as he came, squirting hot fluid against her hand. His erection was stiff, his balls tight but in a moment it was over.

            Hermione bolted from the bed and dashed into the bathroom, her heart thundering in her chest, threatening to break through her ribs. She threw on the water and stuck her hand under the sink. It wasn’t that it disgusted her, it more than turned her on, but she didn’t wish to be caught red handed. Not that it had worked. She felt guilty, she had violated him. Surely in his waking mind he would never agree to such a thing. But she had to try, for his sake. Thoughts whizzed about in her brain. Had she been selfish? Was it a good deed to be punished? The road to hell was paved with good intentions.

            It took several moments before her breathing returned to normal. She eased her grip on the edge of the sink and sighed. Hermione would have to reconcile her conscience later. A shiver crept up her spine and realized that the bathroom was colder than the warm bed had been. She grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around her body.

            Hermione opened the bathroom door and her jaw dropped.

            “I believe an explanation is owed.” He said. Severus Snape was sitting up with the coverlet pulled up over his chest in bed, the book in his hand. Severus Snape was awake.



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The Fantasy Book