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The Book that Binds COMPLETE	By : Desert_Sea Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 16013 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- 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
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A/N: UnorthodoxPeach – thanks for reviewing!
OracleObscured – I love that you laughed at all of the things that made me laugh. Definitely the Scruffy Snape visual but nothing more. ‘And you know I couldn't stop myself from acting it out’ – absolutely! ‘. . . hand is so mundane, but stuck in a shower with you (and to a book), it's suddenly the most absurdly intrusive/intimate thing’ – you summed it up perfectly. ‘. . . crafty crafty story sorceress’ – bahahahah! (that was my crafty sorceress laugh). I hope you noticed that I included ‘pitched’ just for you.
Lovey_Reader – Awkward is definitely the word of the moment. I’m glad the scourgify and shaving scenes hit the right note. Shower sex scene? Mmmm . . .
LeWyKi: Okay, I’ll admit it – there may be some similarities with HG/SS from TQ, but also some (subtle) differences. I think I might have fallen in love with them and not been able to let them go. Hermione is, indeed, multi-talented. The fast updates usually happen when the story is festering away in my brain to such an extent that I need to get it out so I can sleep. Like now :)
The Gear that Grinds
“How are we supposed to do it together?” Hermione looked down at Severus who was sitting awkwardly on her bed.
“You go first and then I go, I suppose.” He looked just as uncomfortable as she was.
“But if you take too long, I won’t get a chance to finish off,” she sighed.
“I’m more concerned about you getting carried away and sucking up too much of my polyjuice.”
They were speaking, of course, about the difficulties with co-teaching. Having flooed Headmistress McGonagall to explain (most of) their dilemma, she had instructed them that they had no option but to co-teach their classes the following day.
“So I suppose after I introduce my second years to the history of Muggle television and radio, you can explain to them how they both work.”
He raised a scornful eyebrow. “Division of labour along gender lines I see. How very liberated of you Professor Granger.”
She glared at him, wondering how difficult it would be to drag his body around if she happened to kill him.
“I’m more than happy to discuss how they work, if you would prefer to do the introduction.”
“Do you know how they work?” He leaned back on his outstretched arm.
“I will work out how they work and then I will . . .”
“Never mind,” he huffed, irritably. “I’ll do it.”
Hermione bit back a nasty response because she really didn’t have a clue and certainly didn’t want to stand up in front of him, joined to him, in front of a class, how fucking ridiculous, and pretend that she did.
“And then I can help to prepare the ingredients for your potions class,” she said as cordially as she could manage.
“Superb,” he muttered, standing abruptly. “It’s time we left.”
Hermione had had enough of his belittlement. She wasn’t stupid or hopeless and she didn’t appreciate being made to feel so. She continued to fume until he suddenly bent his face close to hers and raised his eyebrows. “I imagine we’re continuing with the impressive and convincing basket-carrying ceremony?”
She sighed and cast the illusory spell. He really was a prick.
“I want to take notes at the library and I’m sick of these stupid quills,” she grumbled. “Can you grab a fountain pen out of my bedside drawer?”
He bent down and pulled the drawer open and that’s when she died. Rolling around amongst the pens, batteries and other assorted items was the shiniest, reddest, torpedo-iest vibrator in the world.
He paused for a moment.
“Which is the fountain pen?” he asked, not looking at her.
“The black one,” she squeaked, before loudly clearing her throat.
“Not . . . the . . . “
“I’ll get it!” she lunged forward and snatched up a pen before slamming the drawer and hauling him towards the door.
She knew he was smirking without even looking at him. Waves of smirk were emanating from him. And her face was as red as that fucking vibrator. Fuck him! She hadn’t even had a chance to use it yet.
***
They spent another tiring day reading in the library, holding a basket, and not talking much. Bathroom visits were respectful and food was consumed as necessary. She knew they were both thinking about the vibrator.
The words of text after text swam before her eyes:
‘Examples of permanent book binds date back to the Vibrator era . . .”
‘Some of the most powerful and malevolent binding curses were perpetrated by Lord Vibrator . . .”
She released a slow breath. It might be time to call it a night.
“I’m sleeping in my own bed tonight,” she informed him as she closed the final book in her pile.
“Are we?” he responded, snidely.
She peered at him blearily, taking in the deep shadows under his eyes. He was clearly as exhausted as she was.
“I don’t want a fight,” she sighed. “I just need sleep.”
He drew in a deep breath, huffing it out through pursed lips. “Fine.”
They executed their unenthusiastic basket-laden ambling in silence and, even when they arrived at her room, words were employed only when necessary. She assisted him to remove his coat with a seam-splitting spell and he proceeded to remove his boots and trousers.
Black satin boxers? What lay beneath those murky depths? Shut up, Hermione! She scowled as she turned away from him, using her wand to undress herself and slip on a soft cotton nightie.
Climbing across the King-sized bed (she’d transfigured it so that they could be as far away from each other as possible), Hermione found herself moving with all of the elegance of a baby elephant trying to get out of a mud pool. One-handed crawling didn't happen to be her forte and she fell on her face before finally lurching across to her side.
No doubt he'd copped an eyeful, she thought as her hand flopped across her brow in exhaustion. She didn't care. It wasn’t like he hadn’t already seen the goods.
He, on the other hand, slipped between the sheets after her, white shirt unbuttoned at the neck, like a panther that had been taking lessons in seduction. How did he move like that?
Flicking the Lumos spell off her wand so she didn’t have to witness his feline grace any longer, she lay in the dark listening to him. His breathing was pretty quiet for someone with such a big nose. Why was she always compelled to think nasty things when she felt inferior? Was it some pathetic attempt to level the playing field? Or was she simply trying to avoid the truth of the matter – that she found him so achingly sexy that she had trouble even looking at him.
Now she couldn’t go to sleep. ‘Achingly’ had brought back the ache. Maybe Mr Boats would have something to say on the matter?
“Do you mind if I read?”
“No.”
She didn’t tell him what she was going to read. He probably already knew.
Casting Lumos, she rolled onto her side and flipped their hands over so she could see the pages. His eyes were closed but his, now spread, fingers supported the book pages as she turned them. She could see his wrist just above her line of reading, his translucent skin accentuated by the blue glow. Shaking her head in annoyance, she admonished herself. She wasn’t there to ogle his wrist, she had more important things to do.
Chapter 2 – Foreplay
Bring it on, she thought, glancing at him to make sure she hadn’t been seen licking her lips.
Skipping the introduction and description of the brewing process, she turned straight to the most interesting part – spell application.
The arousal potion is designed to enhance female stimulation. It combines elements of engorgement and retraction and is designed to be applied, by dropper, directly to the clitoris.
Her eyes flicked nervously back to his. Still closed.
The effects of this potion are dose-dependent, thus it is wise to apply only one drop at a time until the desired level of clitoral enhancement is achieved.
Clitoral enhancement? She’d take some of that.
The engorgement element causes local vasodilation, increasing blood flow to the region and enhancing clitoral swelling by up to four fold. The retraction element causes a tightening of the clitoral hood, such that the glans of the clitoris protrudes for maximum exposure. Please note that direct stimulation of the engorged clitoris in this position may induce sensations ranging from extreme pleasure to severe pain. It is recommended that all stimulation, at least initially, is of an indirect nature. These might include gentle rubbing of the surrounding region, a cooling breath or the application of a judicious tongue.
Gods she wanted a judicious tongue!
The thought of a slick pink muscle insistently probing at her straining, oversized clitoris made her abdomen clench, and a stream of wetness flooded her knickers.
She was forced to breathe through her mouth to stop herself sounding like the Hogwart’s Express.
Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea.
His eyes were still closed but she didn’t think he was asleep. No doubt he could feel her breathing, even if he couldn’t hear her. She suddenly felt a surge of fear, the last thing she wanted was for him to open those black orbs and see her, catch her, flushed and heaving. Flicking her wand, she cast them into darkness, slowly sinking back onto her pillow.
Okay, she told herself, time for sleep . . . Hah! Yeah, right.
She still held her wand in her hand. If she cast a silencing spell she might just get away with it. As quietly as she could, she whispered the silencing spell and then cast vibration on her wand, causing it to thrum away steadily between her fingers. It wasn’t perfect but it would have to do.
Carefully, she eased the shuddering wand under the covers and slid it slowly down her stomach until the tip dipped under the elastic of her knickers. She continued to push it through her pubic hair where it buzzed and tickled before slipping it between her . . .
“You can use your . . . thing if you want,” his deep voice rent the air.
Oh shit!
Not her thing!
She held her breath.
“Do you want me to get it?”
Oh Gods!
She was frozen, her wand idling away at the juncture of her labia. He was waiting for a response. Of course she wanted it. But how could she? With him lying right there? It was beyond mortifying to consider. But then again . . . he’d offered. On Gods! It was too weird. All of it. But she was soooo turned on.
In the end, she decided to leave the decision-making to her vagina.
Withdrawing the wand, warm and moist, from her knickers, she dropped the vibrate and silencing spells and responded with a tight rasp.
“Yes please.”
She heard him feeling for the drawer in the dark. She wasn’t going to cast lumos and hold her labia-smeared wand over his face to help him see. No. She would wait, in agony, while he located 'her thing' by touch.
Eventually she heard the drawer open and his hand trailing through the miscellany. She could imagine those skilful fingers, so adept at advanced potion-making and powerful spell-casting, now engaging in that wonderfully rewarding endeavour of vibrator recovery. She could hear him rattling through the smaller objects. No doubt he would be putting his razor sharp mind to good use— thinking, ‘Nope, not torpedo-y enough.’
She closed her eyes, wondering why her mind’s incessant chatter seemed determined to make the most embarrassing moment of her life even worse. After more frenetic scrabbling, there was silence. He’d either given up or located it. She had a feeling that, no matter how long it took, he wasn’t going to give up.
The room was pitch black and she wasn’t entirely sure what was happening until something hard and smooth suddenly hit her in the face.
Feeling around, she located the tapered cylinder, like a gift from the dildo fairy, under her pillow.
“Thanks . . . I’ll just cast silence . . . “
“No.”
“Sorry?”
“Don’t . . . you don’t need to.”
She didn’t need to? AKA: he didn’t want her to. AKA: he wanted to listen to her get herself off. AKA: WTF?
She stroked the vibrator against her cheek, thinking, then realised how weird it was and stopped. He wanted to hear her come? She flushed with embarrassment. That wasn’t something she would have had on her list of likely occurrences only two days before. Then again, she was quite desperate to come herself, with or without an audience. Could it be that bad? Surely she could be quiet-ish?
Taking a deep breath, she flicked the switch on the bottom of the cylinder and it started to vibrate (as vibrators are wont to do). She could try shoving it down her knickers, maintaining a semblance of what might pass under those circumstances as decorum, but she figured that she didn’t have a lot of dignity left to salvage. Her cunt had waited long enough.
Hitching up her nightie and pushing down her knickers until she could kick them out of the bed, she spread her legs and introduced the tip of the reverberating rocket directly to her clitoris. No . . . mucking. . . around. And the sensation was utterly . . . divine. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she lifted her chin, groaning at the ceiling. That was too loud already.
Gently she massaged the tapered end around her sensitive nub, sending pulses of pleasure buzzing through her lips and tugging at her core. Sliding the smooth shaft down her fleshy gully, she dipped the tip into her opening which was already salivating salaciously, ready to suck it in, whole. The smooth, frictionless surface, combined with her generous lubrication, was a match made in heaven, allowing her to thrust, fast and deep, into her sopping channel.
“Unnnhhh!” she winced with pleasure at the trembling fullness.
Beginning to pant, she pushed and pulled the shaft in long strokes, squeezing it inside so firmly that the pulses radiated through her pelvis. Her pumping sped up and her moans became needy. It was getting more and more difficult to drive the slippery pole between her tightening muscles, as her juices were running freely off the end, making it difficult to maintain her one-handed grip.
With some effort, she tugged it out, like a sword from an amorous scabbard, and brought the slick shaft back to her clit, letting it flutter against her trigger as she keened for release. Then, positioning the pole lengthways down her slit, she slid it up and down, stimulating her clit and lips at once, while occasionally digging the shuddering tip back into her hole, which was constricting incrementally on each pass, winding like a spring.
Finally, she thrust the shaft back inside herself in one full stroke and cried out, realising that she hadn’t thought about him at all until that moment. But her attention wasn't jolted by the racket she was making alone—she could feel him, that finger, rubbing against hers, gently, rhythmically.
“Fuck!”
She came in a cacophony of escalating shouts, her channel pulsating around the rigid tube, trying to eject it through her slippery digits. Bucking around, she was dimly aware that his hand was on her thigh, not moving, just holding her through the violent convulsions. Eventually her body stopped bouncing, but her insides continued to flutter and grab as she felt his fingers gently caressing her inner thigh.
Drawing in ragged breaths, she felt around urgently for her wand—her entire half of the bed needed to be scourgified. Patting around, she finally found it. And grabbed it. Oh shit! She thought. That’s not a wand! That’s Nessy!
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The Book that Binds *COMPLETE*

The Book that Binds COMPLETE