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
- 19
- 20
- 21
A/N: I just watched Blow Dry and felt incredibly inspired. And I hadn't touched on this in a while. I have another fantasy coming down the tubes- his favor requested for this one he performs is going to blow your mind. ;-)

The only time she had felt more embarrassed was when Severus had first woken from his coma. Her face flushed then as it did now and her body was tense, breath held tightly in her chest, heart racing. Hermione stared wide-eyed at the intruder and tried quickly to sink beneath the water in hopes of concealing her identity. But Hermione had not been blessed with the gift of gills and in her haste to submerge herself she had not drawn in a proper breath. Spluttering and coughing as she surfaced from beneath the bubbles she closed her eyes tightly in hopes that if she couldn’t see the intruder perhaps the intruder couldn’t see her.

            Severus had remained calm, a look of mild annoyance on his face as he gazed at the intruder. Hermione trembled beside him, wishing her hair were longer or that she’d thought to wear a swimsuit; anything to cover her body and dispel her current shame. But that feeling melted away as she felt his hand settle gently on the top of her thigh. It was a small, simple gesture but something about his firm masculine hand upon her skin seemed to quell her nerves slightly.

            “You two have explaining to—”

            “You’ve said that,” Severus said the mild look of annoyance arching through his brow. “Last I checked you were not warden of The Prefects’ Bathroom, so we have no need or requirement to explain anything to you.”

            Hermione imagined that if ghosts could reflect color that Myrtle’s face would have flooded with an indignant red at the moment. But with or without color her face clearly expressed irritation. Hermione did her best not to giggle.

            “This is the Prefect’s Bathroom!” she shrieked.

            “We are well aware of where we are,” he retorted. “Now if you’re through interrupting…”

            Myrtle rose up into the air and swooped down into the large bath only to erupt a moment later into the Jacuzzi in front of them. This startled Hermione so much so that she had practically jumped into Severus’ lap. But all eyes were on the ghost as she began to wail. “Neither of you are Prefects! She isn’t even supposed to be at Hogwarts!”

            Severus quirked a brow on his forehead. “All knowing authority now, are we?” he waved his hand to silence a further outburst. “As it so happens you whimpering water-bound woman, she is my invited guest and as a senior member of castle faculty I have roaming privileges which are thusly extended to my guest for the entirety of the castle and grounds including this bathroom. If that answer doesn’t satisfy you I suggest you take it up with the Headmistress who I am certain will be pleased as punch to hear you’re stalking the Prefect’s Bathroom after expressedly being banned following the last incident.”

The ghost released another ear-splitting shriek before she dove beneath the water and disappeared with a great splash. Hermione waited for a moment, eying the water wearily as if expecting Myrtle to appear with a fresh tirade or at the very least a wave. She turned questioning eyes to Severus, curious about his statement.

“She was caught peeping on the Head Boy,” he said.

“Oh.” She frowned. “How did you—”

            “Do not think you were the only one who fed me information in my comatose state, Hermione.”

            She felt the blush creep into her cheeks and turned her face away from him; it was still somewhat of a sensitive subject. And the thought that others had talked to him made her even more embarrassed because it meant that at any time one of them could have come and discovered her; at least in the early days before she’d insisted upon private rooms and taking over completely control of his care.

            “A blush,” he said placing two finger under her chin and tilter her head slowly back to face him. “Implying shame…or…embarrassment regarding your actions.” He paused for a moment and gazed into her eyes. “Are you ashamed, Hermione?”

            It unnerved her how readily he spoke of her actions and despite all that had happened since she still felt uneasy in regards to it. Everything that had transpired during his coma made the hairs on her neck stand on end and the crimson stain root deeper into her cheeks. Her thoughts floated so easily out of her mind or perhaps were written that simply across her face for in that moment he slid his arm around her shoulder and eased her body up into his lap.

            “Intimacy…” he drawled his voice a tickling whisper against her ear. “Is a great tool for fantasizing…” his face seemed to soften and Hermione felt the tension she’d been holding in her shoulders slip away as he guided her head back to rest against his chest. “It can be…” his finger crept up her abdomen, slowly until he cupped his hand against her sex and she whimpered, “…arousing…erotic…” each word sending a shiver up her spin as it slipped from his lips.

            Hermione’s body was quaking. “Severus,” she muttered as her eyes fell closed. But just as she’d begun to relax he shifted, pushing her up from his lap. “Oh— I—”

            His slender finger pressed against her lips and quieted her protests. “Might I suggest exploring the bounds of such intimate arousals in a more private location? Lest we reencounter spectator spirits.”

            Hermione found herself staring, unable to tear her yes away as he climbed slowly from the Jacuzzi. He moved with languid steps as if to purposefully give her a show of his backside. She had seen the man naked, fucked him and fantasized him but this was the first time she’d been afforded such an appreciative view and from such a wonderful angle. It wasn’t until he was wrapped in a towel with his arms crossed over his chest staring at her that she realized that she was still staring. Her face flushed a bright red and that time she swore his lips drew into a smirk upon seeing her blush.

            “Perhaps another time, if you are too…embarrassed…”

            Hermione’s ears glowed pink as she quickly exited the tub and drew a towel around her body. “I’m just not quite accustomed to this,” she muttered but stepped slowly toward him.

            “Indeed,” he said and waited until she stood beside him to take her hand.

            Hermione let her hand slide easily in his, again impressed by the simple gesture that seemed to speak volumes. She felt her blush lessen and drew her towel around her a little tighter. “And maybe…” she said, tilting her eyes up to him. “Another look at the book?”

            Severus studied her for a moment. Her youthful face, the way the pink lingered in her cheeks and how her tiny lips were like two gentle flower petals, soft and delicate like her skin. Her hair was wet; drying slowly into springy frizzy curls all around her face with fresh water droplets still on her skin. He nodded. “The book,” he said. And he withheld the smile that longed to break across his lips when he watched her face flush at his mention of it. Despite her clever crafting of the tome and all of the wild and raunchy things that went in it she could not outlast the feelings of naughty taboo as they rushed to her cheeks.

            They had kept to the lesser used corridors and Hermione found the stones of the castle to be frightfully cold against her bare feet, the fact that she was still not completely dry only making her shiver all the more. And it was the first time in all the years that she could remember the castle ever being so drafty. She kept her hand in his and tried to focus on his tall looming figure, wrapped only in a towel, as they returned to his chambers.

~*~

            Hermione sat naked with a long sheet draped around her body; the wooden grain of the stool firm against her bottom. Her feet dangled slightly above the tiled floor of his bathroom and although his chambers were warmer than the castle she could feel the gooseflesh all over her arms and legs. She faced the mirror that was mounted to the back of his bathroom door and bit her lower lip; worrying the petal nervously between her teeth. She had rather liked the idea after he’d agreed but now felt the nerves shaking within her.

            He stood behind her, wearing only a pair of black trousers, his pale skin seeming to glow in the light of the bathroom torches. “I should reiterate to you that I have no practice with this sort of thing, I am not a stylist nor any kind of barber,” he said and placed both hands gently on her shoulders.

            It made her shiver and her whole body tensed for a moment, but not unpleasantly. It was that sweet tension that wound her body tight when she had felt him take her after they had established the way fantasies really worked. She felt her heartbeat quicken and her breath was shaky as she exhaled. “I know,” she gazed into the mirror and turned her eyes to catch his reflective glance. “But I don’t mind,” again she bit her lower lip. “You just look so much like…” and her words trailed into silence as she flushed.

            “I personally do not see the resemblance between my person and that muggle actor…but if you insist, I am apt to oblige,” he said, squeezing her shoulders gently.

            She squeaked softly; his touch making her body tremble and already the warm wetness of arousal was beginning to gather between her legs. She was aroused by him; and the notion that he was so willing to oblige her silly fantasy despite the fact that she had been hesitant to ask made her giddy. “And it will always grow back,” she shrugged her shoulders; the damp frizzy curls hanging below her shoulders on both sides of her body, touching her shoulder blades and the tops of her breasts, separated from her skin by only the sheet.

            Hermione felt the warm tingle of blush in her cheeks; only serving to heat her body further. It was a silly fantasy; but he did bear a striking resemblance to the man from the movie and she had always imagined that it would be at very least interesting to have shorter hair. And she couldn’t help but shiver thinking about how he had agreed. They’d returned to his chambers and sat on the couch for a long while in front of the fire; curled in a blanket with her leaning back in his arms. She’d nearly slammed the book shut when they’d come to the page. But he’d insisted upon seeing it and she’d reluctantly shown him. And there she sat; waiting, naked with the sheet her only covering.

            He had agreed to the fantasy on the condition that she indulge him in a fantasy without questioning him. He assured her that she would befall no harm and that he was certain after all he had witnessed in the book it would be well within her capabilities. She swung her feet slightly, nervousness growing in her stomach as she waited. There was a large floor length mirror drawn before her and she kept nervously checking the reflection; seeing him there gazing at her.

            “And you are certain?” he asked once more, taking his hands back from her shoulders. Slowly he turned to his sink and picked up a pair of tiny but sharp golden scissors and twirled them loosely around his fingers.

            Just like in the movie, she thought and tried to hide a slight smile as she tilted her head forward. “Yes, yes I’m certain. Please,” she asked, lifting her head up to gaze into the mirror. “Cut it.”

            His hair fell around his shoulders; falling forward as he leaned over her; hiding his face. That was the only bit of him that looked different in that moment; and that he was shirtless whereas the actor in the movie had donned a short-sleeved black button-down. But just the same they shared the Aquiline features; Roman nose, high and well defined cheekbones, prominent brow; thinned cheeks and deep set eyes. It set her blood aflame as she felt his fingers touching her hair; lifting it, letting it fall once more over her shoulders. She had always kept her hair long; with frizzy untamable curls but there was always a first for everything and if it allowed her to invoke a bizarre fantasy in the process it was all the more appealing to change her style.

            Hermione gasped as she heard the first soft snip of the scissors closing around her hair. She watched wide eyed in the mirror as he dropped a long, curly strand of her hair onto the front of the sheet. It slithered down her chest and landed in her lap. She whimpered as he snipped her hair again. She couldn’t see how short he was cutting it as he was standing directly behind her; but another long lock of hair fell into her lap and this time she shivered. “Uhm,” she whimpered watching a much larger hunk of hair land in her lap. It was petrifying and exhilarating all at once. Snip. Snip. Snip. He was moving a bit faster now; shifting from side to side behind her and the pile of her shorn locks in her lap was beginning to grow.

            “Ooh,” she shivered feeling the cold metal of the scissors across the back of her neck. Snip. Snip. Snip. Snip. Hair seemed to rain down over her shoulders and she closed her eyes for a moment; feeling his hands tugging at her hair; the sound of him cutting making her heart race. She whimpered as a lock of hair floated down her face, tickling her nose. Her eyes fluttered open as he began to tug at the long curls on her crown and she watched with wide eyes as he began to cut them. Snip. Snip. Snip. He was moving faster; more hair falling down upon her; some sliding off the sheet and onto the floor; piling around the stool. She moaned; the warmth tingling between her legs as he began moving his scissors faster and faster.

            There was something wildly frenzied about the way he cut her hair; passionate; as the actor in that movie had been. Hermione had slid her hand between her legs; parting her thighs on the stool and was pushing her fingers into the moisture of her womanhood; her thumb pressing at her clit; whimpering and letting her head fall back slightly. He pushed roughly against her head; tipping it straight up and her eyes glittered with need as he continued to cut her curly hair. There was something terribly erotic about him in that moment; total control over everything that defined her feminine features; reducing what could have been her crowning glory and she was helpless. It drove her mad and again she tipped her head back; this time his hand roughly pushing her head forward until her chin hit her chest.

            She whimpered then; feeling the scissors up and down her neck. Snip. Snip. Snip. Snip. More and more and her hand moved frantically between her legs until she whimpered harshly feeling the rough tug on her shoulders. She was drawn onto her feet; the mountain of hair in her lap tumbling to cover her toes as he pressed his body against her, eyes gazing down into hers. He no longer held the scissors and his hands were gripping her shoulders. She looked at him with pleading eyes as his body blocked the mirror.

            Severus whipped the sheet from around her and tossed it to the floor; the sound cracking through the air like a whip. He dragged the stool behind him with one hand and spun her around twice before pushing her stomach over the stool and standing behind her. As her eyes looked up to catch her reflection in the mirror Hermione cried out; her eyes rolling back into her head. She moaned; feeling the sudden thrust between her legs; his hardened length now buried inside of her. He began to rock his hips; pushing into her, pulling out; with long, hard strokes. Her legs were spread and her feet were sliding on the slippery hair that now lay beneath her toes but a firm hand gripped her hip and held her against the stool.

            He stretched her in that moment; she hadn’t recalled him feeling quite so tight before; but perhaps her strange but highly erotic arousal made him feel that way inside of her. She whimpered; bucking her hips back against him; feeling the edge approach. As she gazed up into the mirror she gasped once again but did not have time to fully drink in her appearance as he slammed hard into her; one hand moving between them and stroking her sensitive nub. It was her undoing as she shook against the stool; her orgasm crashing through her as he still pumped into her from behind.

            “Please…” she whimpered as the shakes spiraled through her body. She was so sensitive; bordering on pained by his thrusts. “Please…” she panted again; and with a few more strokes her cries were answered as he slammed hard into her and held himself firmly there; exploding his hot release within her. She was trembling and her breath was still coming in short gasps when he pulled out; Hermione collapsed down on her knees.

            Severus was slow to pull the stool away and kneel before her; her pile of hair now scattered across his washroom floor. He took her trembling hand and placed it on the top of her head; guiding her hand back across her newly cut hair. It was short; and Hermione leaned around him eyes wider than before as she gazed into the mirror. It was really short. Not terribly unsuitable but shorter than anything she’d ever worn. It would take some getting used to; but it had been well worth it. She turned her wide eyes to him and nodded with a shy grin. “Thank you,” she whispered and leaned up to kiss his lips.

            Severus returned her kiss; running his own two hands over her shortened hair. It was almost like a pixie style; feathery and short, carved out around her ears and high up the back of her neck. He pulled slowly back and gazed into her eyes. “And mine?” he asked, gently stroking a finger down her cheek.

            Hermione flushed. In that moment she had nearly forgotten the promise of the unknown fantasy to him. She nodded; her head feeling significantly lighter. “Let me just get the book, you can pick it out while I clean up,” she offered and made to stand; but felt him hold her arm, keeping her on her knees.

            “It is not in your book, Hermione Granger.” He said and then slowly stood up. “And leave this…” he gestured to all of her once glorious curls that now covered a large portion of his bathroom floor. “Leave it for the house elves…I should like to explain to you…my…fantasy.”

Thank you for reading! Please leave a review!
- 19
- 20
- 21
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Fantasy Book