Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 14
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- 16
A/N: Oh boy hold onto your hats, folks!

The room remained dimly lit, the fire glowing but mere embers enough to highlight her silhouette against the darkness of his chambers. She stood with side facing the fireplace; her garments transfigured into a simple pair of muggle jeans, skin-tight and hip-hugging, a white button down blouse, a plain white bra and ordinary knickers. His hair fell around his shoulders as he slowly approached her from behind; he donned in black trousers and a black shirt with short sleeves. Hermione was practically trembling, uncertain; the only sound filling the room aside from the slight pops and crackles of the fire was the sound of her breathing that she was trying to control; slow and deep, in through her nose and out through her mouth.

            He was silent as he stood behind her, almost touching her body leaving only the tiniest of spaces between them. Her body shook visibly when he leaned over her shoulder and brushed her hair back from her neck with a simple brush of his hand. His skin was not soft, so much different than she had envisioned; rough calloused hands worn from years of brewing potions and carrying the bidding of his dark master. Her neck was exposed and she couldn’t help but tilt her head toward the fireplace, letting the spans of her neck extend, giving him more flesh to behold with his eyes.

            Severus gripped the fabric of her shirt, reaching from behind her once more, arms circled around her figure but not touching her, no more so than to grab at the bottom button of her blouse. He tugged; slowly at first and then more fiercely, until the buttons popped away from the garment and it fell open. Again the rough feeling of his skin pushing the shirt down her shoulders, exposing the strap of her bra, the pale shine of her skin as he let the torn garment fall to the floor between them.

            Hermione gasped, choking on her breath as he wrapped one arm tightly around her stomach, drawing her back roughly against his figure. His body was firm, taller than she was, and his grip around her middle was tight, restrictive. Severus allowed his left hand to once more brush her hair away from her neck before reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a tiny silver blade. It was no longer than his thumb, no wider than his pinky but its sharp point glinted against the firelight as he traced it ever so slightly against the back of her shoulder.

            Her lungs burned with the breath she held and she winced as he pressed the tip into her flesh; pushing and pushing until the surface broke and a river of crimson sprung forth. Hermione shuddered, her lips frozen in an ‘o’ as she gasped, the pain shooting through her body, feeling white hot sting of the metal splitting her skin. He pulled back only slightly, dragging the blade in a curve over her shoulder and up her neck. The glinting silver fell to the floor without a sound and she whimpered, catching a sob on her lips as he pressed his tongue against her neck. He licked at the faint line he had carved into her flesh; sweet metallic copper filling his mouth.

            Again his rough and calloused hand was touching her flesh; Hermione’s eyes fluttered as she rocked back and forth, still held tightly against his body. Fingers wedged their way between the denim of her jeans and her flesh and Severus forced his hand down along the skin of her abdomen, down into her pants. The material was tight, squeezing against his fingers as he maneuvered around her knickers and pressed his fingers against her sex. She trembled, feeling his tongue stroking almost rhythmically against the blood trickling down her neck.

            Hermione cried out; though her voice was lost, sounding more like a frozen sob, its life cut short as he thrust two fingers into her sex. It was tight, his forearm flat against her stomach, his hand buried tightly between her legs. Severus kept his other arm gripped tightly around her mid-section; riding it up higher against her ribs, squeezing her tighter to him. His lips traced the outline of the mark he cut into her flesh and her body shook as he sucked at her flesh, blood smearing his lips as he thrummed his fingers inside of her.

            Hermione’s body shook, her eyelids fluttering as the pain from his cut mixed with the pleasure of his rough fingers, flickering back and forth inside her center. He stood firm against her, his hair falling over her bare arm, tickling her skin as he continued to suckle her neck. She trembled, her chest heaving, and for a moment she felt nearly dizzy. Her eyes fell closed for a moment as sensations washed over her but she forced them open and tried to find a focus. They caught his forearm, squeezing tighter around her ribs, and the mark that was branded there.

            A sob escaped her lips as he nipped at her neck, his teeth catching on the edge of her exposed flesh, renewing the flow of blood from her skin. His fingers thrummed faster, jerking her body forward as he strained against the tightness of her jeans. Bursts of white light pulsed behind her eyes as he forced his thumb hard against her sensitive nub and Hermione came, nearly doubling over his forearm as her body shook with rapture.

            He stilled his hand only after she was shaking so uncontrollably that had he not been gripping her round the middle she would have collapsed. Severus held her tight to him, not moving his fingers from between her sex, not releasing his grip around her middle. It took him several moments before he wriggled his hand free from between her legs and let it fall easily at his side. Hermione let her eyes fall closed. It was her fantasy played down to the note, and yet it had been nothing like she had fantasized. She bit her lower lip and waited for him to release her from his grip.

            How long she stood held firm with her back against his chest she wasn’t sure. She longed to cry but her eyes seemed lost in the darkness of his room. But her attention was brought all too quickly to his face as he spun her around, his arm still tightly wrapped around her stomach. Dark eyes searched hers and for a moment the slightest streak of emotion flitted across his features, but it was so quick that she was unable to read it. Her eyes were wide and doe like as she gazed up at him, trying to find the words to say.

            “Not as you imagined,” he said.

            She did her best not to blush. Her stomach lurched forward, and she closed her eyes for a moment to try and quell the awful feeling that was consuming her. “No, sir,” she muttered.

            Severus did not release his grip entirely, but he loosened his arm from around her back and took a step back from her. “Fantasies are simply that, Hermione Granger, there is nothing that guarantees that they will play the way you imagined they would…” his words were not harsh but matter of fact.

            He was clear but her mind was fogged. She had come at his hands but not at all how she’d imagined it. It had been pleasurable but empty. A strange sensation unlike any she’d ever experienced, and she wasn’t certain that it was something she had enjoyed. The sting of his cut still stung as she tried to settle her mind long enough to find something intelligent to say. But after several moments all she could manage was a simple nod. She could not bring her eyes to meet his though he still kept his hand around her.

            “One might take into consideration learning the other’s preferences before engaging in acts of such an…intimate nature…” he said.

            His words landed against her ear and for a moment she only heard his voice. But as she repeated them in her mind a blush flooded to her cheeks. Hermione had chosen one of her more erotic fantasies because it had been so feverish and wild when she had fantasized it. And even though she longed to know what he truly felt like, she had chosen a fantasy that had involved limited sexual involvement on his part; perhaps so that in the event that he was truly repulsed by the notion and was only following through to make good on his favour— he would not feel totally soiled by the event.

            It stunned her cold to think that she had forced his hand; and quite literally so; at something that he had clearly not found pleasurable at all. She closed her eyes and tried to think, tried to recall being pressed against his body. It had happened moments ago but already it seemed a world away as if it had been nothing more than a fantasy. But try as she might she was unable to recollect feeling any sort of arousal from him during the encounter. Her chest tightened; had she made a mistake in picking the fantasy? Perhaps he had been right when he had offered the notion of payment. She gasped slightly as his hand cupped her chin.

            “You are trembling,” he said. The arm that gently held her face, hand rough and worn, was the same arm that bore the mark and although her mind was far away her eyes could hardly look away. He followed her gaze and rested his own eyes on the faded tattoo for a moment before returning to her face. It hadn’t bothered her before and why so suddenly she found fascination in its appearance she wasn’t sure but anything was better than thinking on what had just occurred.

            Hermione winced, her breath catching in her throat as his other hand crept up her back and he placed his palm flat against the wound he had placed against her flesh. “Certain previous encounters of a more unpleasant nature…” he drawled, softer than before, leaning his head a bit closer to hers, “…may leave one unwilling to repeat similar notions…however differently they may be viewed by others…” Severus pressed his palm harder against her raw skin and watched as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

            He pulled his hand away and let his arm rest gently at his side, the other still cupping her chin, though not forcing her to meet his gaze. “Given my previous occupancy in the Dark Lord’s services…branding…and blood play are less than savory for my sexual appetite,” he added and then let his hand fall away from her face. He took a step back and then bent over briefly to retrieve her shirt from the ground. “But a favour was owed,” he said and handed her the garment.

            Hermione was practically on the verge of tears, though she fought them back and blinked her eyes hard trying to clear any notion that she might be prone to crying. She nodded coldly and took the garment from his hand. Their fingers brushed briefly over one another’s; a spark shooting through her body. Severus stepped away from her and reached for the tome on the coffee table. He handed her the book which was almost too much for her to bear, but as she clutched it in her grasp he pulled it gently back and flipped it open. “This is a dangerous instrument,” he said with caution. “However useful it may have been in rousing me from my comatose state,” he added. “It builds up a notion and persona for you of something…someone that I am not.”

            She nodded; her body numb. Severus tilted his head toward the sofa and then moved to take a seat on one side of it. Hermione; like a zombie going through the motions followed suit and sat opposite him, eyes staring somewhat blankly into the fireplace, which was now little more than smoldering embers. With a quick snap of his fingers the flames leapt to life with renewed vigor casting an orange glow across the room. He thumbed through the pages, settling for a moment on one. “I am not fond of heights,” he said and thumbed through a few more pages and for a moment as he stilled over one entry the briefest of smiles crossed his lips before he continued mulling through the tome.

            “I would never condone any sort of intimate involvement in so many of these public places…especially not whilst brewing highly combustible potions…” he added. Severus closed the book and held it for a moment before slowly shaking his head and handing it back to her.

            With the weight of the book in her lap and her shirt in her hand Hermione found it difficult to think. But her mind seemed to find the words and her lips parted to speak. “What would you have preferred, sir?” her voice was so soft a squeak that she wasn’t sure she had spoken it aloud.

            Severus Snape sat on his sofa with his lips poised to respond but the question was loaded. For a moment his eyes fell closed and the humble ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “That, Hermione Granger, is not something that I would care to discuss. You have done your duty, far beyond the call of it, and my favour owed has been paid.” He said. But as he moved to stand from the sofa her tiny hand caught his wrist, gripping him gingerly as if he were a frail man that might break.

            “Please,” she said.

            Her eyes met his and he held her gaze. For a moment he remained perched on the edge of the sofa but then he settled back and sighed. Pinching the bridge of his nose Severus cleared his throat and opened his eyes once more to look at her. She was too exposed; her bra the only thing covering her from the waist up and the scent of her womanhood still lingered on his fingers. “I would have preferred to know why when my mind was screaming not to respond to your touches my body reacted to you,” he said his words equally as quiet as hers had been.

            “Sir?” she asked and then it dawned on her like sunrise over the darkened twilight. Her face flushed crimson and she bowed her head almost in shame. “I— I’m sorry—”

            “You were doing what you believed was necessary,” he said quickly but firmly. “It was a strange state of being. As if I were inside my own mind watching it happen from a distance.”

            Hermione bit her lower lip and then titled her head up ever so slightly. “Is it because—”

            “It is because it is inappropriate on many levels.”

            A sigh of relief should have flowed from her lips; at least he hadn’t said it was because she was repulsive. And Hermione was certain that it was safe to assume he would never lie to protect her feelings, Severus Snape was more on the opposite side of emotional protection, more along the lines of emotional destruction. But it was somewhat as she had feared; that he had known she had touched him, had helped him to release physically, and violated him.

            “Because I had no business in— I didn’t have permission…” her voice trailed off.

            Severus let his head fall forward; long strands of his fine black hair falling around his face like a curtain. He gazed up through his tresses; eyes wide but somewhat weary. “Among other things…” It only took a moment for his composure to reappear, his features once again neutral and masked. “But what’s done is done.”

            A slight nod of her head was the only signal that she had heard him. Again she was lost with her thoughts and feelings but before she could really ponder them she heard her voice speak out, “I’m sorry,” she mumbled once again on the verge of tears.

            Severus allowed himself a small frown. “There is no use crying over the incident,” he waited with the tiniest shred of hope that his words would somehow hold her tears at bay. But when they trickled silently down her cheek from the outer corner of her right eye he could not help but sigh. “You have me painted up to be some extraordinary lover, and I assure you I fuck the same as any other man,” he moved both hands forward and placed his palms on the back of her hands. “My hands are not the warm and inviting hands you’d imagined, my lips hardly soft and supple as you’ve fantasized. And I do not wear silk boxers,” he added.

            Hermione flushed despite her tears and tried to look away but found her eyes drawn to him. At least he was alive; if nothing else she could say that he had been saved from a life as a vegetable. She sniffled and quickly pulled her hand up to wipe at her eyes, trying to cover up the evidence that she’d been crying despite the fact that he was still sitting next to her.

            “It’s just how I’ve always imagined you, I suppose…” she muttered and tried to avoid his gaze.

            “In silk boxers, Hermione Granger?” Severus Snape quirked an eyebrow up on his forehead.

            Again her face was stained crimson and the flush crept down her neck as he squeezed her hand. “It was just after that first Order meeting—”

            “The one where you were asleep against the cellar door and frightened half to death when I started you awake?” she nodded at his question. “And now I know why.”

            At a loss for words she pulled the tome close to her chest, letting his hands fall away from hers as she curled her legs up under her body on the sofa. It wasn’t as cold as it should have been for being the dungeons and even without her shirt she felt warm. Between the fire in the hearth and her embarrassment any chill that would have found her had vanished. She closed her eyes for a moment and then bit her lower lip. She had to know, but asking it would be suicide. “Sir…” she let her eyes open slowly to gaze on his face.

            Severus waited for a moment but when she did not continue her words he reached forward and pulled the tome from her hands. She offered little resistance as he placed the book in his lap and opened it once more. He bent his head for a moment and then gazed up at her. “Given the unique variety of choices…had I my rathers…” he drawled and then turned the book toward her.

            Hermione glanced down at the page and swallowed hard. She could feel her whole body flushing. It was impossible to bring her eyes to meet his gaze but suddenly his hand was on her chin, tilting her head up to look into her eyes. “This is the closest thing you have to...” he held his breath for a moment and leaned closer, “My preferences…”

            Hermione shivered as she exhaled. She knew the fantasy all too well. But before she could dwell on it his voice was shattering through her thoughts. “Though your expectation of my performance of a lover would be severely disappointed. I am a selfish lover far too long out of practice.” He said and closed the book in her lap.

            The words flew from her mouth before she could stop them. “Let me make it up to you?”

            Severus shook his head. “You have done quite enough already. You need to not further place me in your debts.”

            Hermione’s lips were poised with a response but she hesitated. Her fingers trembled as she reached out and touched his hand, letting her fingers glide slowly up his arm until her palm covered his mark. He did not draw back from her touch. Severus Snape sat very still as she circled her fingers around his forearm and gently squeezed his flesh. He let his eyes fall closed and for a moment the slumber of the coma threatened to overtake him. But when he opened his eyes he found the girl to be much closer to him, practically in his lap. “You repaid your favour,” she said. “But it was hardly what you wanted, and favour or not I think that’s unfair,” she added. “So please, sir, let me…” her voice died as he placed a finger against her lips.

            “Hermione Granger, though eager and willing, this is not something I need from you.”

            “But something you desire?” she offered if a bit hopefully.

            Again the man before her was quiet. He took the book from her once more only to place it on the coffee table and stand from the couch. Her eyes grew wide as she watched his hands move to the buttons on his simple black short-sleeved shirt and one by one he undid each button until the lapels of his shirt were open, exposing his chest. A surge of energy burst through her body and at once she was on her feet, if a bit unsteadily, and stepping toward him. His arms encircled her figure, drawing her close and his lips brushed hers.

            They were not rough like his hands, but hardly the way she’d imagined them. His lips were thin, but smooth, and hardly noticeable against hers as he kissed her. He pulled back for a moment and then tried to restrain his groan as he felt her hand between them. Hermione had placed her palm against his crotch and was grinding and rubbing against the fabric, feeling his manhood growing in his trousers. Severus stepped back, releasing her from his embrace. “It was one favour, Hermione Granger.”

            She nodded. “I know. So let return the favour,” she said and took a cautious step toward him. He eyed her carefully and when she slowly sank onto her knees before him he closed his eyes and allowed his head to hang for a moment. “Please…” he heard her whimper, and then felt her hands tugging at his trousers. “Please, sir?” her eyes were wide and innocent as she gazed up at him, waiting for his response.

            It was a fantasy she was all too familiar with, just like every other one in the book, but if it meant he would be pleased she was more than willing to try. His rough hand tangled into her hair, dragging her to her feet. But before she could protest his lips were against hers and he kissed her harshly, before pushing her back down to her knees. “One more favour…” he muttered and let his eyes fall closed as he felt her hands on the zip of his trousers; his manhood straining wildly to meet her touch.

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The Fantasy Book