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Snape's Story	By : tbird1965 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 33390 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 9
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. Complete. Het, solo, oral.

Chapter List
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The counselor sighed and made a brief note on her parchment. The man sitting before her bore little resemblance to the austere, stoic and often frightening Potions Master who had terrorized her during her school days. She took in his trembling hands, the sheen of sweat on his forehead and the extreme pallor of his already pale skin. He had arrived late and was dressed in white shirt sleeves and black trousers, his ever present black robes curiously absent. His hair appeared clean, but uncombed and he was unshaven, a black dusting of stubble coloring his cheeks and chin. Her expert eye told her he was not drunk or hung over, he was suffering from severe alcohol withdrawal. Standing, she moved from behind her desk and pressed her fingers gently to his neck. He jerked away from her touch.

“What are you doing? He growled.

“Checking your pulse. It's a little thready.” She pressed her hand to his forehead. “And your skin is clammy.” Bending over, she placed a hand to his side, just above his waist and squeezed. “Your liver feels a bit swollen.”

“Remove your hands from my person this instance.” He twisted away from her in his chair. “Don't you have a wand for that? Do I need to be manhandled?”

Returning to her seat behind the desk, she make a few more notes. “I can give you something to help alleviate your discomfort.”

“I am fine.” He rubbed a trembling hand across his forehead. “I have a migraine. I've suffered from them for years.”

“Mmmm hmmm.” She leaned back in her seat. “How long has it been since your last drink?”

He stood sneering and began to pace restlessly around the small room.

“By my calculations it has been about 36 hours.” She continued. “Are you experiencing any nausea or diarrhea?”

He shot a scathing look at her and continued to pace around the room.

In fact he was miserable. He'd spent most of the night and the previous evening alternating between vomiting and groaning on the loo. Even now his stomach churned and his bowels felt liquid and loose. Merlin he needed a drink. If he could just have a drink........the insufferable chit was speaking again, he supposed he should pay attention.

“........your father drink?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” He growled.

“It is a proven fact that children of alcoholics are far more likely to become alcoholics themselves.”

“I am not an alcoholic, so your question is moot.” He moved across the room to examine the contents of her bookcase.”

“It's still an important question, did your father drink Severus?”

“You have a pensieve.” He removed the object from the shelf, turning to glare at her accusingly. “Why do I have to pour out my heart and soul to you if you have a pensieve?”

“As I've explained, I prefer to hear about your experiences directly from you. I am far more concerned about your feelings surrounding the experiences rather then the experiences themselves. There are times, however, where a patient may find a certain event to painful or traumatic to verbalize. When that happens, I will allow the patient to use the pensieve, so we can view them together. Are you unable to talk about your father?”

“My father was a filthy muggle drunk, who beat me and beat my mother. He died in a muggle prison where he belonged.” His voice was rising in anger, his face dark with rage. “These things are not important. I do not wish to discuss my personal and private life. Fuck.” He roared, throwing the pensieve violently across the room. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

The counselor watched as the pensieve bounced safely about the floor. All of the objects in the room were treated with a cushioning charm. This was not the first, nor the last time a patient had thrown something in a fit of rage. She made a few notes on her parchment, before turning to stare sadly out the window.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're drunk.” She said patiently to the man slumped in the chair across from her desk. She was not surprised that he'd been drinking, she was actually surprised he had returned for his next scheduled appointment. She'd expected him to be missing for at least a day or two.

“I always said you were observant.” He quipped, slouching lower in the chair. He was still dressed in the same clothes he had worn yesterday. His shirt was rumpled and he reeked of sweat, whiskey and cheap perfume. “Are you going to punish me? Deduct housepoints? Give me detention?” The corners of his lips turned up in an evil smirk.

“Why don't you tell me what happened after you left yesterday,”

Storming down the hall, Severus Snape had only one thought on his mind, where to get a drink and where to get one fast. He failed to notice the blonde man waiting near the lifts.

“Severus.”

He stopped and looked around at the sound of his name.

“You look like shit.” Lucius Malfoy said smiling, crossing the hall to shake the dark man's hand. “What are you doing here at the ministry? Oh that's right.” Lucius smirked, when Severus didn't answer. “The mandatory counseling sessions. How is that going? Have they saved your soul yet?”

“It's a bloody cauldron of shit.” The former Potion's Master growled, rubbing a shaking hand across his forehead. “All I really need is for everyone to leave me the fuck alone.”

“Here, here.” Lucius chuckled. “Come on old friend, let me buy you a drink and you can tell me all about it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Supposed to talk about my bloody feelings.” Severus slurred, raising his glasses of whiskey and swallowing it down in one gulp. “I'm a fucking Slytherin. I don't have fucking feelings.”

“Horny.” The blonde wizard muttered, reaching for the almost emptied bottle of whiskey.

“Come again?”

“Horny. That's a feeling.” Lucius chuckled darkly. “As in I'm feeling very horny at the moment. Come on Severus.” He said, tipping up the bottle and swallowing the last of the amber liquid. “Let's take a stroll down to Knockturn Alley. You need to get laid. My treat.”

“I don't need to get laid.” Severus frowned, staring at the two empty whiskey bottles littering their table.

“Everybody needs to get laid.” Lucius laughed, stumbling as he stood up from the table. “Merlin knows I do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I can't believe it's really you Professor Snape.” Hannah Abbott giggled as she bounced up and down on top of him, her huge magically enhanced breasts coming dangerously close to giving her a concussion. 'Not that a concussion would have any lasting effect on her intellect.' He thought grimly, struggling desperately to tune out the strident tone of her voice and focus on the feeling of her cunt.

“Wait a minute! Hannah Abbott of Hufflepuff is a prostitute?” The counselor's normally professional countenance had momentarily vanished, leaving her looking shocked and appalled. “She was in school with me.”

“Most prostitute's are former Hufflepuffs. They become whores or nurses. They're not intelligent enough to become anything else.”

“And you had sexual intercourse with her?”

“Well I tried to, but the stupid cow wouldn't shut up.”

“You were always so mean to me in school.” She yammered on, as she bounced energetically up and down on his cock. “I can't believe I'm shagging you. If I'd have known you had such a big dick, I would have fucked you in school. Maybe I could have passed my Potions owls.” She laughed loudly making his head ache painfully.

“Not bloody likely.” He growled, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her roughly off him.

“What are you doing? You didn't finish Professor. Mr. Malfoy said he'd give me a big tip if I took good care of you.” She whined.

“Oh for fucks sake. Will you stop talking before my head splits in two.” He squeezed his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“But what about my tip? If I don't make you come, Mr. Malfoy won't tip me.” She stared accusingly at his rapid deflating erection.

“Fine.” He growled, grabbing her by the back of the neck and pulling her face to his crotch. “I'll give you a treat and let you suck me. At least you can't talk with my cock in your mouth.” He sighed as she eagerly attacked his cock. Her technique was sloppy at best. Grabbing the sides of her head he thrust up rapidly into her mouth, groaning as she gagged, her throat closing around his cock with each upward thrust.

He watched carefully as the counselor wrote several lines across her parchment. Again he had seen a flash of some identifiable emotion on her face, but when she looked up, she was once again inscrutable.

“Is that something you do regularly? Frequent prostitutes?”

“Not in Knockturn Alley. I prefer the anonymity of Muggle whores and not my former students.”

“Mmmmm.” She wrote quickly. “So you have some moral objection in engaging in that type of behavior with former students?”

“I wouldn't call it a moral objection.” He frowned, thinking. “I suppose what I object to is knowing I'm sticking my cock into a vapid, moronic, dunderheaded idiot.”

“The intellect of the woman you are paying for sex is important to you?” She stared at him, a curious look on her face.

“I have no desire to know what the intellect of the woman I am paying for sex is or isn't. I wish to know as little about her as possible, that way I can......” His voice trailed off and his face grew dark.

“You can what?”

“Nothing.” He growled, folding his arms across his chest.

The soft chime sounded, signaling the end of the session. He started to rise, but she waved him back into his seat with her hand. He glared at her, clearly annoyed.

“Your homework begins again. Don't drink. Because you've had a relapse, you can expect to start feeling withdrawal symptoms in the next 5 to 10 hours. They will probably be more severe. I will offer again, I can give you..........” Her voice trailed off as he rose and left the room.
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