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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
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A/N: I do apologise profusely for the delay in updates. I've been mulling over this for a while, and I've been terribly busy with work, and ill, I'm afraid. But back to business as usual, I hope. Shan't keep you too long for the next chapter, I do hope. Cheers.

She’d been pacing for so long that she was certain the floor in the Hogwarts library was about to crumble beneath her feet. Hermione Granger had not taken comfort in her rooms, which she had hardly used since staying at Hogwarts as the caretaker of Severus Snape. There hadn’t been any need for them as she’d spent every waking hour at his side, and even when she slept she was with him. But all of that was about to explode in her face. Her bottom lip was nearly bleeding she was biting on it so much; the worry and anguish of not knowing what was going to happen coursing through her veins.

            She’d been dismissed. Thrown out, if politely, and he had the book. Severus Snape had the book of her most intimate fantasies about him. She shuddered and finally felt her knees giving way. Hermione collapsed back into a chair and curled up into a ball. There were things in that book that no one was ever meant to see or know about. It had been foolish, using the book to bring him out of his coma; though she could hardly argue that it had worked. Creating the book had been a mistake, but he had been on her mind for ages and so frequently that it was driving her mad.

            She had noticed him at the end of her fifth year, just after Harry had lost Sirius. He’d attended many more Order meetings that Summer. And one night there had been a dream. A dream that when she woke she was terrified and embarrassed, but strangely curious. And that was when she decided to start the book. It hadn’t started out with the intention to immortalize her fantasies of the man, just as a journal of the very strange and vivid highly erotic dream she’d had concerning him. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut praying he wasn’t reading that very first fantasy marked in the book.

            It was impossible to forget, even without the book right in front of her. Hermione closed her eyes trying hard not to think of it, and furthermore not to think of the fact that he might be reading it. She sighed; it was impossible not to think of it. Not when he had the book and was most likely reading through in utter disgust at what she had written there. It was the very first time she’d ever seen him as anything other than her professor and how embarrassing and truly strange it had been.

            She had been helping the boys’ try to spy on an Order meeting. Molly and the other had grown far wiser against the twins’ devices, extendable ears included. It was then that she had noticed him. The rain had been heavy on the roof and she’d been skulking about in the kitchen trying to appear nonchalant as she leaned near the cellar door, trying to hear through the cracks in the wall. But when the back door to the kitchen was thrown open she had froze.

            There he stood, soaked through to the bone, hair clinging to his face, his robes a heavy weight on his body. Hermione was gazing wide-eyed as he approached, blood still fresh on his cheek, trickling down his lip. She squealed as he grabbed her arm, his grip was firm. Before her mind could catch up, Hermione was being flung back against the kitchen counter and his lips were harsh against her ear. “Spying is a dangerous game, Miss Granger…” he had hissed.

            The water chilled her as it dripped off his body and onto her neck. She was trembling from head to toe, her voice quavering like a leaf in a storm. “I— sir, I wasn’t— I—I—”

            “Lying is even more so,” he growled before tangling one hand into her hair and pulling her head back, exposing her throat. “Spies and liars must be punished…”

            She shrieked, only no sound escaped her lips as he buried his face against her neck and suckled at her flesh. He nipped her neck, pressing his body against hers, and despite his soaked robes she could feel his manhood raging within his trousers. Her heart began to race, surely he did not mean to force himself on her. A bead of sweat trickled down her neck though she hardly noticed as he tore at her shirt, pushing his hand up under the fabric. His fingers were cold and wet from the rain and sent tingling sparks through her body. Hermione gasped as she felt his other hand between their bodies, tugging at her jeans.

            Where were the boys? And why was no one from the Order coming up from the basement to stop what was happening. She was frozen, her eyes darting about, her heart thudding in her chest, her lungs tight as she gasped for air.

            “Spies cannot be afraid…” his lips were once again at her ear and she was trembling so hard that had he not been pressing her figure against the cabinets she would have collapsed to the floor. Somehow he’d tugged her jeans down from her hips and his fingers were between her thighs. She should have been screaming or fighting him, but she was just there, frozen stiff against his body as he tugged at her knickers.

            It happened so quickly she hadn’t even realized until she felt him inside of her. It was an explosion of sensation and her heart skipped several beats. His lips were suddenly covering hers, his tongue exploring her mouth and her whole body collapsed limp against his. Sensations overwhelmed her, tingling feelings flooding through her body, blood rushing through her head, echoing in her ears. Hermione felt him, pushing into her, hard and fast, her back being slammed against the counter.

            He came within her. So quickly it had ended she was hardly sure it had happened. He pushed her roughly back, the blood drying against his the corner of his mouth. He sneered and then drew the back of his hand across his mouth. “Spies are not to be trusted…” he hissed. “Miss Granger.”

            He spoke her name. “Miss Granger.” Again he called her and she found that she was not against the counter. “Miss Granger!”

            Hermione had awoken leaning against the door to the cellar at number twelve Grimmauld Place. Her eyes were wide as she gazed at him, towering over her, and she cupped her hand against her mouth to keep herself from shrieking. She was slumped against the cellar door, legs numb, having fallen asleep beneath her. He was not wet, nor was he bleeding and Hermione was puzzled.

            “The meeting ended an hour ago, Miss Granger. No one had the heart to wake the slumbering spy…” he sneered and then took a step toward her.

            Hermione wrapped her arms tightly around herself and he paused. “Do I frighten you, Miss Granger?” he allowed his brow to quirk up on his forehead.

            Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. It had been a dream. “N—no, no, Sir.” She said and then quickly got to her feet.

            She closed her eyes for a moment more, reflecting back on that moment. She’d spent the rest of that night tossing and turning trying to make heads or tails of the dream. But the more she thought on it, the more intrigued she was by it. Him, Professor Severus Snape, as a man, and not just a professor. Hermione was so lost in her thoughts that she did not notice the shadow cross over her figure until it was towering over her. “Oh!” she cried.

            “Professor Snape wanted to see you,” Madam Pomphrey said. “Though you look like you haven’t slept at all…” she tutted and shook her head.

            “No, I haven’t, I’m afraid.” Hermione admitted as she stood up. But her thoughts were anywhere but sleep. “He wants to see me?”

            The mediwitch nodded. “He’s retired to his personal chambers on the promise that he would allow you to check in on him and that you would report back to me.” The Mediwitch smiled. “Worked out pretty well considering he’d asked to see you anyhow.”

            “I see,” Hermione tried not to look worried. “Well, I should be heading down to see him then,” she nodded politely and moved from her chair in the library. “I’ll let you know if there are any problems.”

            The Mediwitch nodded. “Thank you, dear.” Before Hermione could say anything further, the woman had turned and headed out of the library.

            Hermione breathed a heavy sigh though it was hardly of relief. Her whole body was tingling, the hairs on her neck standing on end. He wanted to see her, despite having read the book. She closed her eyes and swallowed, the lump in her throat nearly enough to choke her. It was going to be a terribly long night.



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The Fantasy Book