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The Quickening	By : Desert_Sea Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 32428 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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
- 17
- 18
- 19
A/N: There is a WARNING folks for this chapter. It might not be to everyone’s tastes but if you can make it through the beginning, there is a reward at the end.
I’ve appreciated the commentary on the recent chapters. It makes writing much more exciting when I have insight into people’s thoughts.
Sherlocked17: I like your comments popping up about different chapters. Keep them coming. He was definitely a controlling Snape in the beginning. Has he changed?
Severus1Snape: I suspect you knew there was more to the story than what was revealed in the last chapter. Sorry for keeping you hanging on. Although this is a pretty big chapter for me, delivered ASAP.
FieryPhoenix: This chapter might take you on a bit of a journey but I hope you get through to the other side intact. Not quite plain sailing I’m afraid.
Oracle Obscured: The calm before the storm? I wonder how you knew. I hope I’m not getting too predictable but I am impressed by your prognostications. As requested, I won’t be revealing too much too soon about the future but, again, your thoughts did make me smile. Don’t worry, there is plenty of sex to come! And perhaps a bit more drama . . . we will see. I hope you had a good holiday too.
Chapter 18
Hermione’s reflection stared back at her. It didn’t look particularly happy. The graze on her head had healed amazingly well and the skin around her eyes looked fresh despite her broken sleep. But none of that mattered—she’d just met with Professor McGonagall.
Hermione had entered the meeting naively hoping that the Headmistress would simply hand over the release phrase for Severus’ shackles, finally allowing him to be relieved of his immeasurable discomfort. But the phrase was given over with a condition that Hermione was desperately concerned would devastate him—and destroy any possible chance of a relationship between them. In reality, the stipulation shouldn’t have been a huge surprise. But she had been so focused on his recovery that she’d pushed the possibility, well and truly, to the back of her mind.
Severus was so much better—healthy enough to be released from the infirmary after a surprisingly rapid recovery. And they were already days over their original deadline for removal of the curse. So, for Hermione, things felt like they were now coming to a huge, festering head.
The Headmistress had made Hermione promise that she would provide unequivocal evidence that Severus was, indeed, free from the Galvanismus curse. The fact that all of the past episodes in which the curse had been expressed were characterised by extreme emotional and sensory upheaval, and had built up over the course of days, made it an almost impossible proposition.
Even if she was successful, it was going to hurt him. A lot.
Hermione’s reflection continued to frown. She could hear his deep timbre in the adjoining room, intermingled with the milder tones of Madam Pomfrey. Not only had they repaired their relationship over the preceding days, the mediwitch was now treating him like her long lost son—fussing over his meals and doing everything in her power to make him as comfortable as possible.
Closing her eyes, Hermione leant on the basin and stretched her neck repeatedly from side to side. Then she took five long slow breaths. It seemed entirely inadequate but how else did one prepare to instigate a colossal shit storm?
She knew that if the curse was still hiding somewhere inside him, she would need to overwhelm both his senses and emotions. Humiliation was a particular pressure point for him. To incite the curse, she needed to trawl the depths of her malice—perhaps even dredge up the pain and humiliation of the rape he had perpetrated against her. She would have to use every vindictive device at her disposal. Otherwise, he would be out of Hogwarts and, more importantly, neither of them could ever be sure that he was finally free from the curse.
When she finally returned to the bedroom he was alone, watching the fading light of dusk out the window. She approached hesitantly and grasped the bar at his bedside.
“I can help you with that if you like,” he said, stretching his binds to hold her hand.
It was only then that she realised she had been biting on her lip. She released it and sighed heavily.
“Something wrong?” He frowned, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.
“Do you trust me Severus?”
She said it with such intensity that his eyebrows shot up.
“Of course. Why?”
“Because I’m going to have to do something . . . to you.” She tightened her grip on him. “It’s something very important but I can’t tell you anything about it beforehand. You are just going to have to trust me. It might get . . . very . . . uncomfortable. I’m going to be talking to you, asking you questions but I don’t want you to speak. I just want you to listen.”
His frown deepened with every word.
“I’m really, really, sorry but it has to be done.”
He shook his head slightly in wonder before releasing her hand. “And when is this to happen?”
Hermione drew in a shaky breath. “Now.”
He stared at her, into her, and she thought she might be sick. This was going to be far worse even than the poisoning. Because he would be fully aware. Hyper-aware. Her hand tapped nervously on the bar.
His beautiful black orbs drifted over her face. “You haven’t let me down yet,” he said. “I do trust you.”
She closed her eyes against the pain of his openness. She was about to let him down. Big time. But she had no choice. The only mercy she could show was to get it over with quickly, rather than drawing out his agony.
A mask of detachment dropped over her face, her features hardening. She instantly pulled back from him—physically, mentally and emotionally, drawing her wand. With quick successive flicks she locked and warded the door, dropped heavy drapes over the windows and shot flames onto the dozens of candles propped in candelabras around the room.
Severus’ eyes darted about. Capturing each of her lightning fast movements. This was a Hermione he’d not seen for some time. She was reminiscent of the wild, unpredictable girl he’d seen when this whole thing had begun. It was disconcerting to say the least. But he needed to trust her. He had no choice. He was completely at her mercy. And, to be honest, it was impossible to deny his feelings for her.
The final flick of her wand was to remove his pyjamas—that soft, nurturing fabric that had become his security blanket throughout his time in the infirmary. Now he was completely naked. Shackled. And totally vulnerable.
She didn’t flinch. Levitating the bottle of oil from her bag, she placed her wand on a chair and poured the fluid liberally over her hands, rubbing them together like a surgeon scrubbing up. Wordlessly, she reached for his flaccid cock, gently rolling her oiled fingers over his silken sheath.
His shoulders tensed and his Adam’s apple bobbed, forcing back the words that were desperately trying to explode free. What was she doing? . . . Oh Gods!
He felt her strong hands gliding up and down his considerable length, and watched as his cock rapidly inflated under her ministrations. She handled him like a sculptor, an artisan, shellacking his member in a glistening film that shone golden in the candlelight.
His breathing quickened as her lithe fingers slithered down to his scrotum, an alchemist turning his nuggets into gold.
She didn’t look at his face once, utterly focused on her craft, and he was struck by the strange sense that she was barely there.
She established a rhythm quickly, her fingers sliding in smooth, pulsatile waves. He groaned deeply in response and shifted his backside sideways, trying to control the sensations.
It was rapidly becoming too much for him. His chest was heaving and his mouth was drawn up tightly at the corners. He closed his eyes as she quickened her pace, taking in shallow breaths through his mouth.
Just as he felt the tension building in his balls, she suddenly stopped.
When he opened his eyes, she was looking intently at him. It was her but not her.
“Did Lily Evans ever get to see this?” she asked, stroking him agonizingly slowly.
What the Fuck?
“Is that why she rejected you?” She continued sliding her hand up and down him, keeping him right on the edge.
Severus clenched his jaw and glared at her. No one had ever dared ask him about his relationship with Lily. That was fucking private.
“I bet you were angry with her.” Hermione continued. “You were never quite good enough were you? You could never offer her what James Potter and his friends could.”
His fists clenched. His eyes were black ice.
She reached down, manipulating his balls with one hand as she continued pumping him.
“Did you ever fantasize about raping her like you did to me?”
Severus’ face broke, contorting with pain as his breath caught in his chest.
She looked away from him. Trying to regain her composure. She needed him to buy it. All of it. Otherwise it couldn’t work.
With difficulty, she reinstated her façade and returned his gaze.
“Did you ever imagine grabbing her by her beautiful red hair, looking into those green eyes filled with anger and hurt, and trying to shove your cock in her mouth?”
Severus shook his head, his eyes shuttered.
“What would she have done Severus? What would Lily have done if you tried to force this cock into her?”
His eyes closed as a sob died in his throat.
Hermione lowered her mouth over the head of his dick and sucked on his firm flesh. His groan was one of anguish, not pleasure, as she grazed him with her teeth. She quickened her pace, bringing him back, teetering on the edge of release with her swirling, probing tongue.
As an enraged growl emerged from deep in his throat, she pulled away again.
“Would you have made her swallow your come? Like you did to me?”
He could take no more. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone!“ he shouted, his face blood-red.
His entire body glistened with sweat, veins bulging in his arms and chest as he strained against the shackles. He looked like a wild animal.
It was time.
Hermione picked up her wand.
“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,” she murmured.
Suddenly, the shackles binding his wrists fell away.
Letting her wand clatter to the floor, she closed her eyes, shuddering with fear. If he was still cursed, he would be ready to hurt her, badly. If not, he would reject her. Either way, she was didn’t want to see it coming.
Strong arms grabbed her and dragged her, bodily, onto the bed. She felt herself being crushed into his chest.
“Thank you, Hermione,” he whispered hoarsely into her hair.
She sobbed into his bare skin, his scent and warmth feeling like home. He rocked her gently, pressing his lips to her forehead.
“It worked, Hermione,” he murmured against her skin. “You did it.”
Relief turned her bones to jelly. She wanted to stay there, cocooned in his embrace, forever.
“I’m so sorry Severus,” she finally ground out, his chest hair tickling her swollen face.
“Shhhhh,” he continued rocking her. “I know you are.”
She clung to him like a wet limpet.
“I suspect it was a condition of my release?” he ducked his head closer to her ear.
She nodded against him, digging her fingers desperately into the muscles of his shoulder to reinforce the truth of it.
“At least they’ll know I’m clean now,” he muttered. “And, more importantly, so will you.”
She gave a deep sigh, daring to allow a small hopeful smile to curve her lips. “And so will you.”
He squeezed her closer and, as she raised her chin to nuzzle into him, he lowered his head, capturing her plump lips with his firm ones. It hit her like the Hogwarts Express. After all this time. Everything they had been through. This was their first proper kiss. Not like the one through the extracorporeal projection when he was on the verge of death. This was what she had wanted all along. A real kiss for no other reason than they both wanted to—needed to.
His lips parted and his tongue trailed along the soft crevice between hers, ripe and full. She opened up to him and he plunged in. That tongue that had been everywhere else in her was finally inside the succulent warmth of her mouth. She sucked it gently and slithered hers up beside it. Entering him, tasting him, devouring him.
They continued exploring one another until Hermione became intimately aware of an insistent prodding at her hip. He still had a raging erection. Her joy and relief and arousal made her suddenly desperate not to waste it.
“Do you mind if I . . . “ She reached down and gently ran a finger along his silky smooth member.
His lips curled into a smile. “Be my guest.”
He responded as if she had simply asked to borrow a book. But she wasn’t going to wait for a second invitation.
Straddling him, she started peeling off layers of clothing. One after another. Stretching gracefully above him like a ballet dancer, until she was down to a creamy lace bra. Without waiting, she unhooked it from behind and shrugged it off her smooth shoulders. To Severus, the firm breasts that swayed above him had all the silky allure of a caramel dessert. Then she stood to peel off her jeans, socks and, finally, her sodden knickers, kicking the pile off his bed before kneeling down with one leg either side of his hips.
Severus had never beheld anything so beautiful. The flickering candlelight played across her perfect skin, the curves of her beautiful breasts and the flat plane of her stomach. He desperately wanted to run his hands all over her but he didn’t want to interfere. He felt strongly that she needed to do this on her terms. It was for her. And she absolutely fucking deserved it. She had saved him. And he would provide for her, as long as she needed. He wouldn’t come, even if he had to clamp his own cock. It was the least he could do for her.
She raised herself on muscular thighs and reached between her legs for his cock which was still standing very much to attention. Positioning his weeping head at her entrance, she gradually lowered herself down, only just managing to accommodate his initial bulbous nub. She stopped and reached out for him. He held her small hands in his large ones. Her face held all the innocent uncertainty of a child learning to fly their first broomstick, and he was there to support her.
Clamping her bottom lip between her teeth, she raised her pelvis up and slid back down, a little further this time. For Severus it was absolutely exquisite, being swallowed up, bit by bit, into her deliciously wet heat.
She kept rocking slowly, letting her over-stretched sheath adjust to his size, until the final downward journey when she gave a deep satisfied groan like she was lowering herself into a luxuriously warm bath, rather than impaling herself on his immense dick, and his heart filled with love.
Immediately she started gliding up and down him, he knew he had been right. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be in an alternative rapturous universe. One of her hands went to her erect nipple as the other slid down her stomach, through her cropped pubic hair, slotting between her engorged folds.
He placed his hands on either side of her abdomen, allowing her to slide through them. As a young man he’d been fortunate enough to witness the birth of a Unicorn foal in the Forbidden Forest. It had been having difficulty, so he had helped it to stand. When he touched its coat, it was like nothing he had ever felt before, impossibly soft, warm and pulsing with magic. And that’s what he felt now as Hermione’s skin ran through his palms.
Her face was turned toward the ceiling and she moaned with pleasure as she rolled her nipple languorously between slightly oily fingers. Her other hand rubbed rhythmically at her clitoris as she increased her speed on his cock, tilting her pelvis to rock backwards and forwards, as well as up and down.
His body had never felt more like coming, or his mind been more determined not to. She was so slender that he was sure that his hands could easily meet around her waist and it wasn’t a stretch to imagine that one of the biggest organs inside her at that moment was probably his. The way her muscles clenched around him, squeezing him, milking him, needing him, he felt more useful, more wanted than he ever had in his life. And when she opened her eyes to gaze down at him, her mouth hanging open with lust, and reached out to grasp his wrists, both arms locked in the unbreakable vow, he knew that he was hers.
He growled deep in his throat and clenched his jaw, willing the wild storm building in his balls to abate. Just for a few . . . seconds . . . longer. Her channel was excruciatingly tight around him and making delicious sucking sounds as it devoured his cock. She was panting as she grasped his wrists tighter, the pressure inside her building to explosive proportions.
“Unnnhhhhh.” Her eyelids fluttered in unison with the fluttering of her abdominal muscles, which then recruited deeper and deeper muscles until her entire core shattered.
She cried out as wave after wave of contractions squeezed around the rigid pole buried deep inside her. Her body couldn’t hold that much internally and she squirted her release down him like topping poured over vanilla ice-cream.
She continued to shudder, her breasts heaving with each ragged breath, riding through the tics and aftershocks that twitched the hair-trigger muscles of her engorged canal.
And when they were over, she almost laughed as her swimming vision finally focused on his face. He was biting his bottom lip. Smiling. She didn’t think he had come. And she suspected it had been on purpose. He was gorgeous. She collapsed onto him, his cock still inside her. And promptly fell asleep.
- 17
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- 19
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The Quickening