Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Vexations	By : lightspeedsound Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 34783 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 19
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not make any money off of this fanfic.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Title: Vexations

Author: Magistrix_Sirena

Rating: NC-17/Lascivious/Gratuitous amounts of sex

Warnings: light BDSM, voyeurism, exhibitionism, general sexual fluidity, and possibly really bad puns.

Genre: PWP. Absolutely. Here be le sex; ye be warned.

Setting: AU (as Severus is still alive).

Summary: An anonymous encounter at the most dubious of places leads to a tale of intrigue and smut. Starts summer before HBP; Hermione is 17 due to time turner whatsits. Events of HPB shall take place (at least selectively). And yes: My goal in writing this was to be as gratuitous as possible, while still maintaining a modicum of literary integrity. I hope you all like the result!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. I merely like playing with them.

-----------------------

Chapter 5: I Cannot Sleep For Dreaming…

-----------------------

The Midnight Cloak, Half Past One in the Morning

Hermione awkwardly adjusted her (renewed) panties and strolled to the bar. A drink would be good, she thought. Something to do while I figure out what just happened.

She flagged the bartender down, ordering a small Gillywater to pass the time. Silently, she recalled her recent, jarring sexual encounter. What did Lucius Malfoy say to that “Tobias” man? Were there any clues? What…

A whisper of dialogue zapped through Hermione’s consciousness. “Now, now, Severus, don’t be selfish.”

No.

NO.

It couldn’t be.

Absolutely fucking not.

NO.

Hermione felt bile rise in her throat, her heart palpitating at an alarming rate. Severus, Lucius Malfoy’s voice hissed in her brain, the name echoing in a psychotic, terrifying loop.

Severus.

Severus.

Severus.

Sharing is caring and whatnot…

Severus.

The glass of Gillywater fell from Hermione’s hands, smashing on to the floor of the club. On autopilot, her legs bent and sat her down on a barstool. Her ears roared, muffling the shouts of patrons alarmed by the broken glass.

He…He…I…

Oh my GOD. Snape KNOWS ABOUT MY FANTASY. I FUCKED SNAPE. On STAGE. ACTING OUT A SCHOOL GIRL FETISH SCENE.

Her breaths came faster, her heart pounding as she began to hyperventilate. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…

…How much does he know? Does he suspect? Does he come here all the time, with other women? Where did he learn…all…oh GOD OH MERLIN OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK…

Hermione cradled her head in her hands, skin turning cold with shock. Potions Master. I’ve FUCKED my Potions Master. IN PUBLIC. He’s grabbed my tits and—

“Miss Granger, what in the name of Merlin’s saggy left ball are you doing here?”

Momentarily shocked out of her panic attack, Hermione’s head jerked up.

“…P-P-Professor MOODY?”

-------------------------------

Alastor Moody gruffly pulled the Granger girl away to a shadowy alcove, checking for glass shards embedded in her hands. He had come over when he heard the ruckus at the bar, and had seen through the silly girl’s mask with his magical eye.

Cautiously, he guided her to the booth's seat, magical eye nervously whizzing, checking for eavesdroppers.

“Sit, Miss Granger.”

Hermione sat.

“Does Dumbledore know you’re here?”

Hermione blanched. “N-no. Of course not! I mean to say…No. No one knows I’m here.”

Moody grunted in response, then gave Hermione a calculated look. “Not even Harry and Ron, then?”

Hermione shook her head, skin rapidly changing from white to bright pink. “No one.”

“That was monumentally stupid, then, girl. Nobody goes to the Cloak alone without telling anyone, these days. Death Eaters love this place, you know.” Moody shook his head in disgust. Children. Dumbledore’s raised the students of Hogwarts to be children.

Hermione gagged. “I-I-I know,” she mumbled, trying to slow her heartbeat to a normal pace. Deep breaths, now. “L-Lucius Malfoy…I…he…”

Moody stiffened. “Lucius MALFOY?” he thundered, before seeing the astonished stares of the surrounding club patrons. Must be careful to avoid breaking those silly “outing” rules…“Are you saying that you’ve…you were…indisposed with Lucius Malfoy?” he continued in an urgent whisper.

Hermione nodded, face in her hands, desperately trying to smear away the tears leaking out of the eyeholes of her mask.

Moody roughly grabbed Hermione’s hands away from her face, staring intensely into her eyes. “Miss Granger. Focus. Lucius Malfoy is supposed to be in Azkaban. Tell me what happened.”

The tears flowed steadily now, making wet trickles down her mask’s white leather. “L-Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape… I-I didn’t know it was Snape, I just knew it was Malfoy, b-because of his hair, and he was only wearing ha-half a mask and I was so STUPID and curious and I had seen Snape before only I didn’t KNOW he was Snape and I TRUSTED him and—and oh Gods, we—we went in the back and—“ The extreme shock was just too much. Hermione wrenched her hands away from his and covered her mouth, gagging.

Moody hurriedly transfigured a drinking glass into a cauldron, silently holding it underneath Hermione’s figure.

Three gut-wrenching dry heaves later, Hermione sat back, still clenching the cauldron, skin a pasty, clammy white.

“Miss Granger, did they hurt you in any way?” Moody asked, gently; tactful and to the point.

Hermione shook her head, grateful for Moody’s matter-of-fact tone. Even the mere façade of normalcy eased her pounding heartrate. “No.” She whispered into her knees, “they were--I was--I was willing and they--they kicked me out. They didn’t…a woman in a mask came in to say that someone was waiting for them.”

Moody’s eyes widened. “Someone…Merlin,” he whispered. “You--they’re meeting here!? Right now?”

Hermione looked up, puzzled, then nauseated as comprehension dawned on her. “I--you think--a meeting? Here? But—but--it’s a sex club!”

Moody nodded grimly. “It’s also considered fairly neutral ground, and has the best security Knockturn Alley has to offer. Not to mention certain…distracting…benefits.”

If possible, Hermione blanched even whiter.

“I-Is that why you’re here tonight, Professor?”

“No.” Moody replied shortly. “If I had known the location of a secure meeting, I would have come with backup. Besides, you said Snape is here. He generally covers those. No, I came here for the same reason you did, I imagine.”

Hermione began to feel slightly green. The thought of Mad-Eye Moody enjoying the Cloak was a bit too much for her imagination to handle. “O-oh.”

“But, I assure you Miss Granger,” Moody eyed her severely, glass eye whirring around to survey their surroundings, “I told Dumbledore about my whereabouts. And the bartender is an old friend of mine.”

“I-I…” Hermione trailed off. Moody was right. She should have figured out a safety net. She was best friends with Harry Potter; how could she have thought she would be completely safe anywhere in Knockturn Alley?

Moody sighed and laboriously got to his feet. “I came here for a night of fun, before the school semester started. But if the Death Eaters have begun to convene here…well. I’m surprised that Severus hasn’t revealed that information to the rest of the Order.”

The mention of Snape’s name sent another unpleasant jolt through Hermione’s stomach. He was trying to protect me, she finally realized. “He—Snape, he told me to get out. He said it wasn’t safe. He said to leave, immediately.”

Moody raised an eyebrow. “And did he know who you were, then?”

Hermione shook her head. “No. I mean--I can’t--I don’t think...we were wearing masks, all the times I’ve seen him here,” she whispered. “He called me ‘Alice’ because he didn’t want to know who I was.”

Moody harrumphed. “Well. Covering his arse, I suppose.” He grabbed his cloak and pulled Hermione to her feet. “Come along, then. Time to get you home.”

Hermione nodded, and silently followed Moody out of the Cloak’s side door. She wanted to go back to the Leaky Cauldron and take a long, hot shower. Anything to wash away the feelings of dread and disgust and other things she wasn’t brave enough to name.

The two walked down the deserted pathways of Knockturn Alley in silence, Moody’s eye whizzing away, his peg leg clunking in syncopation with his other foot. Finally, they reached the doors of the Leaky Cauldron.

“You know, Miss Granger, I’m going to have to message Dumbledore about tonight. He’ll want to know about the meeting. And he’ll want to know about your presence.”

Hermione paled. “Couldn’t you just not mention me in your report? I would really rather not have anyone know…”

Moody paused and turned to face the girl, for once, both his eyes focused on the same object. “Miss Granger, you of all people should know that Dumbledore does not judge one based on one’s hobbies.”

Hermione nodded reluctantly.

“How old are you, Miss Granger?”

Hermione frowned, momentarily nonplussed by the non sequitur. “Seventeen. The time turner incident…it aged me. Why?”

“Because we could use a girl in your position.”

Hermione stared at Moody, mouth open in shock and surprise. “W-What?”

Moody turned away, walking back towards Knockturn Alley. “Goodnight, Miss Granger. I’ll keep you posted.”

Hermione turned to walk through the Leaky Cauldron’s doors, pausing to remove her shoes so that she could tiptoe silently up the stairs.

We could use a girl in your position…

What had Moody meant? Surely not--

No. No more thinking. No more analyzing. Shower, then bed. Tomorrow you go back to Hogwarts…

-----------------------

Her lips had been a soft, shining pink, all plump and glistening, waiting to be kissed, framing a perfect set of white teeth that seemed vaguely familiar…

“Severusssss…”

Snape jolted in his chair, slamming a mental lid down on his thoughts. No good. He’s seen the image in my mind…

“Severus, do please share the identity of the witch so remarkable as to steal your attention away from your Dark Lord,” Voldemort murmured dangerously. “I would hate to think that you are too…distracted…for the tasks ahead of you.”

Severus shook his head, hands shaking from the effort of bearing up against Voldemort’s persistent attempts at Legilimency. “I don’t know her name, my Lord,” he said, grinding his teeth. “She was…Lucius and I were just with her. The memory is recent and…visceral. That is all.”

“Oh?” Voldemort asked, turning to Lucius. “And yet…Lucius seems rather alert. But perhaps that is because we are discussing the future of his son…”

Lucius glared at Severus over the long, mahogany table. “Yes, Severus. Do pay attention, as it seems that you will be supervising my son this year.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “I supervise your son every year, Lucius.”

“On the contrary,” murmured Bellatrix, sotto voce, from her place at Voldemort’s feet. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve merely indulged the boy. Hardly adequate supervision, spoiling a child.”

“ENOUGH!” roared Voldemort. “This is not a meeting of the parent-teacher association! Lucius, you should be honored that Draco will be entrusted in this endeavor, so soon after his initiation. Severus, you should be mindful and vigilant, so that he does not commit any grievous errors. And Bellatrix…” Here, the Dark Lord reached down to stroke Bellatrix’s curls, twisting her locks around his fingers before gripping tightly and forcing her head up, to face his. “You shall keep silent on matters unless I ask for your opinion. I should hate to pause this important meeting to punish my pet.”

Bellatrix paled in fear and nodded as vigorously as her position would allow.

“Now, then, Severus,” Voldemort murmured, still calmly focused on Bellatrix’s face. “Please regale us with tales of the Order’s most recent exploits.”

Severus took a deep breath, steepled his fingers, and sat back, focusing on his memory castle. In his mind’s eye, he opened a door to a room filled with false memories. “Of course, My Lord. Do let me inform you of the Order’s most recent attempts at espionage…”

--------------------

She was standing in an empty room, clad only in a pair of black satin pumps and a pair of black lace gloves. A tiny black pillbox hat, complete with a stiff mesh veil, perched upon her hair.

She was looking at a wall of tinted glass, her reflection blurry and dark. She could sense movement behind the barrier.

Someone was there, watching her. She could feel their gaze on her skin.

She stepped closer to the glass, and was surprised to find hand holds embedded into its surface, roughly at shoulder-level. Her shadow cast a clear window into the other side of the barrier.

Him.

He was there, face unmasked, but still clad in his tight, black, tailored trousers and dress shirt. A black frock coat, similar to the one he wore when he traversed the halls of Hogwarts, hung open on his body.

He was watching her.

Slowly she reached for his form, fingertips stroking his silhouette against the glass. She leaned forward, hands splayed against the cool surface, brazenly basking in the heat of his stare. She felt like a lion in a cage, relishing the sense of dangerous fascination she inspired in her viewer.

Still meeting his gaze, she brought a lace-covered fingertip to her mouth, and sensuously bit down upon the thin fabric. Slowly, she dragged her hand away from her lips, undressing her fingers. Casually, she let the glove drop from her teeth.

He had come closer to the glass, now. His gaze followed the lace glove’s drop. She could see tiny beads of perspiration forming on his forehead.

Smirking smugly, she spread her nether lips open with her now naked hand, rubbing her clit in languorous circles. The other hand clenched a handhold, allowing her to lean her breasts against the cool glass. Moaning at the sensation of cold smoothness against her nipples, she slid a finger into her wet quim, her eyes never leaving his.

He was standing next to the glass now, his palms flat against the barrier, hovering over her breasts. She could feel his body heat emanating through the transparent wall. His lips were slightly open, as if he was panting in lust.

She moaned at the thought.

Sliding her legs wider, she grabbed on to another handhold, pressing her entire body against the glass, her pussy flat against the cool smoothness. Presented herself to her voyeur.

He knelt, facing her. Softly, he blew against the glass, breath creating a warm ring of vapor against her skin. She hummed in pleasure.

Suddenly, the glass around her pussy melted away. She felt his lips directly on her clit, the rest of her body still leaning against a decidedly solid barrier.

“Fuck,” she hissed, the combination of cool, smooth glass and his tongue flicking across her clit making her even wetter. “How did you--”

He didn’t answer, not verbally. He simply sucked her clit into his mouth and lightly bit down, tongue flicking rapidly over her nub.

“Oh!” she shrieked, pressing harder against the glass, hands gripping the handholds as she desperately tried to push further into his mouth. “Oh god, please, fuck, fuck, fuck me!”

He stopped suddenly, and vanished. Howling in frustration, she pounded the glass with the palm of her lace-clad hand. She had been so. Close.

Without warning, somebody grabbed her from behind, bending her over slightly so that her clenched hands formed a angle to her torso. A leg insinuated itself between hers, forcing her stance wider. A mouth pressed itself insistently against her pulse point, whilst a pair of hands slid around her body, to cup her breasts.

She moaned as the hands began to caress and pinch her nipples, playing with her chilled skin.

One hand slid lower, to cup her pussy, a finger sliding in and out of her dripping cunt.

“Yes,” she hissed, “Please…I need more.”

The hand immediately stopped fingering her. She heard the faint whisper of a fly being unzipped, and suddenly, a hard, hot cock slammed into her soaked quim.

“OH MERLIN!” She shrieked, desperately clutching the handholds, hips pushing back against the unforgiving pace. “Yes, HARDER! HARDER!”

Two hands gripped her hips, forcing her torso lower, the extreme angle positioning her g-spot to be hit by every thrust of her lover’s hips.

She looked into the glass, moaning at the sight of her lover gripping her body, fucking her with animalistic force. He met her eyes in the reflection, and slid a hand lower to roughly pinch her clit.

“Fuck!” she screamed, “Fuck me, Severus, FUCK!”

The glass shattered.

Hermione Granger sat up with a gasp, acutely aware of her fingers pumping in and out of her pussy. What the fuck? Did I just…

Tearing her fingers away from her sex, she flipped her blankets back to discover a puddle of her cum soaking through the bed sheets. She slowly swung her feet over the edge of the bed, standing on trembling legs. Walking over to her bureau, she poured herself a cup of water from the carafe. Grimly, she eyed the conspicuous stain on her sheets. Well, this will be hard to explain to the Cauldron’s house elves…

-------------------------

AN: This chapter is decidedly shorter than the last. Next up: Severus’s beginnings. Next, next up, Hogwarts! The chapter title is, of course, from the Crucible. Thought it was appropriate, considering Abigail’s fixation on the older, unattainable John Proctor…

Please do rate and review. I live off of attention. It’s how I pay my muse.
- 4
- 5
- 6
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

Vexations