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I want to Snape you like an animal complete	By : Desert_Sea Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 16931 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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
- 4
- 5
- 6
A/N: And another one to keep things rolling, DSxx
OO – ‘Pfft! You just don’t want to go around fixing the titles on all the sites :P’ – you got me! Laziness is the explanation for the vast majority of my behaviours ;) ‘I wonder if Neville is going to figure out what Hermione’s up to’ – he might have more of an idea after this chapter :) ‘Boggarting and masturbating is the new Netflicks and chill.’ – hahah, it’s my new Netflicks and chill ;)
Snapelove – Awww, so lovely to hear from you. I know how busy you have been with life and work and writing and such. ‘I love the tone this one has (it is lighter, happier and more balanced) – just like me! Xx’ I can’t believe you’re still reading on the bus, didn’t you learn after that last time J ‘is that boggart really a boggart’ – well that is a very good question and the answer is . . . I can’t tell you . . . yet ;) ‘Poor Neville, he is going to be traumatised for life!’ – ooh, you may be right, especially after this chapter! xx

Chapter 5 – I don’t give a Snape
“Well you’ve certainly changed your tune,” Neville grumbled as he twisted the handle, opening the door into the empty classroom. “Only this week I had to practically beg you to help and now you won’t leave it alone.”
“You were the one who said you wanted to get in as much practise as possible,” replied Hermione, slipping off her jacket and tossing it onto one of the spare desks.
She looked around, checking for hiding spots. None. Except the cupboard.
“Yeah, but I’m dead tired tonight.” Neville plonked himself down on a seat and raked his fingers through his hair. “After that fucking Potions class.”
“You won’t have to do much,” Hermione said brightly. “As I said before, just let him out and I’ll do the rest.”
She slipped her wand from her back pocket and performed a Disillusionment check, just to be sure. Nothing. No one lurking in the shadows. Returning to the door, she locked and warded it, turning back to the room with an air of expectation.
Neville was still in the chair, head back, hand resting over his eyes.
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” she huffed, striding over and taking him by the arm. “Up you get.”
Neville groaned. “He knows about us. About all of this.”
“Even if he does, he obviously doesn’t care to do anything about it.”
“Yes he does!” Neville responded irritably, shrugging her off. “What do you think that was today? That was all about punishing us. Humiliation.”
“And you were up to it, weren’t you?” Hermione grabbed him again, this time by both arms. “You showed him that you could do the extraction just as well as he could.”
“For fuck’s sake, Hermione.” Neville shook his head. “I’m not getting into some jizzing competition with Snape.”
“That’s not what he was trying to do,” Hermione stared at him, shocked.
“Yes he fucking was. That’s exactly what he was doing.”
Hermione realised then that that was probably true.
“Listen, I do think he suspects something. I’m not sure why or how, but you don’t need to worry. He’s not here. I checked.”
“What? You think he was here before? Watching?”
“I don’t know,” Hermione responded sharply, lifting both arms in exasperation. “I’m just saying.”
“Saying what?”
“Just . . .” She sighed, letting her arms flop back to her sides. “I’m just saying . . . can you get on with it?”
Neville scrutinised her. “I don’t know what you’re playing at but if what you’re planning tonight brings me any more grief, I’m not doing it again.”
“Fine.”
With a final shake of his head and a huffing sigh, he turned toward the cupboard. Lifting his wand, he rolled his shoulders a little as though preparing for a fight. “I’m just letting him out this time, right?”
“Right,” she confirmed, reaching up to flick the top button of her shirt open. And then the next. She was suddenly feeling very warm.
Neville stood with his arm raised, directing his wand at the cupboard for such an excruciatingly long time that Hermione was about to urge him to ‘get on with it’, before he finally performed a small twirl and flick, cracking the door open.
The Boggart’s exit this time was different again. He didn’t pause. But neither did he barge out. He simply pushed the door open, as though he had been waiting for them, and began approaching with long, measured strides. Despite his fluid movements, Hermione noted that he wore a particularly complex expression. Like he wanted to say something. But couldn’t.
As he came closer, she slipped her wand from her back pocket, performing a complex looping pattern before jabbing it in his direction. Suddenly a dark blindfold materialised from thin air and wrapped around his eyes. He halted.
Neville jerked around to look at her. “What did you do that for?”
“I want to go to him. Without him changing.”
“You what?”
“I want to approach him. From the front.”
Neville rolled his eyes before turning away and kicking at a crack in the stone flags. “Is this going to take long?”
“Take a seat if you need to,” Hermione responded, slipping her wand back into her pocket without taking her eyes off Boggart-Snape.
Neville slouched over to a chair and plonked down again.
Licking her lips, Hermione was surprised at how anxious she felt as she approached the blindfolded Boggart. It was difficult to say if what had happened earlier in the day with Snape was still affecting her, or if her reservations about exactly what was going on with the Boggart were bubbling up again. But by the time she was standing before him, her heart was beating such a forceful tattoo against her breast bone that her entire body felt like it was shuddering with the impact.
Reaching up, she placed a hand on his chest. He was fully clothed but she could feel the warmth, even through his frock coat. Each time he breathed, her palm lifted gently, and she watched it, slowing her own breathing until they were synchronised. But far from being calmed by their mutual inspirations and expirations, she found herself swaying erratically with the effort, a tide of adrenaline surging through her veins. She had Snape. Snape beneath her fingertips. Or at least as close to Snape as she could get.
He was hers, to do with as she wished. And while she was aware of how wrong it was, on so many levels, her entire being was caught up in the moment, and she now felt herself quaking, succumbing to what was turning out to be a rare but welcome thrill.
Bringing her other hand up to join the first, she skimmed her palms gratuitously over his pectoral muscles, edging along their firm contours before coming to rest at his top coat button. She undid it. He didn’t even twitch. She released another, and another. Her lips fell open as she sucked in deeper breaths. There was so much power in breaching that formidable barrier. Her fingers were soon slippery with perspiration but she continued to undo the rest, button after button, until his coat was hanging open.
Without a pause, she delved both hands under the thick black material to skate across the starched surface of his white shirt. So proper. Even as a Boggart. But the feeling of crisp hairs, soft nipples, beneath the fabric was just so tantalising. She stopped to tease both buds at once, urging them to stiffen under her fingertips. He did twitch then. Just a brief hitch of his cheek under the blindfold. But when she suddenly grasped one hard pebble, pinching it, his top lip curled, making her want to—
“You’re not planning on just molesting him again, are you?”
Hermione jolted a little. She’d somehow forgotten that Neville was there. “I’m not molesting him . . . I’m just . . . I’m trying to understand him.”
“What’s there to understand?” Neville’s voice rose to an exasperated squawk behind her. “He’s a Boggart. And he’s my Boggart. And you’re feeling him up.”
“No, he’s not. He’s not just your Boggart. I think he’s . . . he’s different.” Hermione ran her fingers along his ribcage, feeling him shiver faintly as she slithered around to press against the warmth of his back.
“He’s not different. It’s just that he looks like Snape. And despite what you say, it’s you who’s obsessed with him, not me.”
Hermione turned then, one hand still sandwiched between Boggart-Snape’s coat and shirt.
“I am not obsessed with him,” she responded tersely. “I just happen to find him . . . interesting. And I really think there is something going on with this Boggart. I think he’s trying to tell us something . . . It’s like he wants to . . . communicate.”
Neville snorted. “Really? So why aren’t you talking to him?”
“It’s not necessarily going to be verbal,” Hermione replied, turning back to Boggart-Snape, her eyes trickling down the pale skin of his neck, taking in the fine hairs emerging from where she had begun to undo is shirt. “It might be . . .” She trailed off as her gaze continued down, taking in the large bulge in his trousers.
“Non-verbal?” Neville offered, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Is that what was happening yesterday? A wank chat? Was that his own special brand of cum-unication?”
“Neville,” Hermione said, managing to sound surprisingly calm. “I realise that you don’t exactly approve of my methods. And for that reason, I would ask that you turn away now. Just for a few minutes. You might also wish to cast a silencing incantation. I’ll let you know when I’ve finished.
“Silencing incantation? How am I supposed to hear the amazing talking Boggart if I do that?”
Hermione paused, waiting for the derision to dissipate. Then she turned to look Neville in the eye. “I’ll let you know when I’ve finished,” she repeated, giving him a reassuring nod.
Neville paused, staring between her and the Boggart, before releasing a loud huff of resignation. “Mental,” he muttered, shaking his head as he swivelled around on his seat. “Fucking mental.”
Hermione waited until he was looking the other way before addressing Boggart-Snape once again. Realising that she probably didn’t have a lot of time, she grasped the top of his shirt near the collar, and tugged hard, sending buttons pinging off in all directions. She wasn’t one to revel in damaging other people’s property normally but she reasoned that Neville could easily imagine him a new one. Then, she grasped the button of his trousers, quickly pulling it open before yanking down the zipper to be pleasantly surprised by both Neville’s failure to imagine underwear, and his ability to imagine what was easily the most magnificent cock she’d ever encountered. Already proudly rearing its head, she was tempted to go straight for the main prize, but there were one or two other opportunities presenting themselves that she didn’t wish to miss.
Pushing his jacket and shirt aside to expose his entire torso, his trousers now sagging around his knees, she allowed her gaze to linger on every element of his lean, sculpted figure, committing it to memory for research . . . or more accurately to help her later, in bed. Then she stepped up close, close enough for her body to press against his, his thighs against hers, his unyielding cock hard against her belly, her chin to his chest.
Gazing up at him, she raised one hand, tracing her fingers along his rigid jawline before crawling up to rest against his cheek. He turned faintly into her touch. Responsive. And Neville wasn’t even watching. This Boggart knew what he wanted.
Tentatively trailing her fingers down, she grazed around the contours of his mouth. Those deep, chiselled lines framing it with such authority, but the lips soft, gentle buds that undid all of that, that spoke of a deep sensuality that she was only just beginning to understand.
She pushed her fingers into the seam between his lips, easing them apart before levering down to force herself into the hot cavern of his mouth.
“Ohhhh.” A soft sigh escaped her as she felt her digits being drawn into a tunnel of seething, molten warmth. He was sucking on her.
She gazed up at him in wonder, curling her fingers deeper. “You like that, do you?” she whispered.
He sucked harder and her knees almost buckled.
Panting, she finally withdrew, bringing her fingers, slick with saliva, to his exposed nipple. She tipped the pink nub making it immediately gather, smooth and hard. Then she leaned forward, flicking the tight skin with her tongue. He groaned, reverberating against her lips. She found herself chuckling lightly in response, her breath rippling out over her protruding tongue as she continued to prod and swirl.
Then she felt it. The escalation—his hand, on the back of her head, fingers delving deep into her roots of her curls. She responded by opening her mouth and completely engulfing his nipple, sucking hard.
Another gravelly groan surged from his depths. His erection strained against her stomach, jerking with each of her ministrations until she felt so horny that she suddenly had the insane desire to have him inside her, to use his substantial appendage to pummel away the ache that had been steadily building between her legs since she’d arrived. Instead she began rubbing herself against him, gently grinding his cock between the apposed planes of their bodies. A patch of precum soaked through her top to her skin. And it was at that moment that she realised that she and the Boggart had come to exactly the same conclusion.
His large hands, one on her shoulder, and the other cupping the back of her neck were now pressing downwards, forcing her to her knees. She could have resisted. But she didn’t want to.
Quickly glancing over her shoulder to see that Neville was still facing away, she knelt and found herself eye to eye with the most intimidating mouthful she was ever likely to attempt. She opened her jaw wide, stretching it to see if it was even going to happen. And the Boggart made the most of its chance.
Neville tapped his wand restlessly against his knee.
He didn’t trust that Boggart. Hermione was right, there was something about it. Some strange level of . . . awareness. It was exactly the reason he’d decided not to cast the silencing incantation, but the noises that were bubbling up behind him now made him wonder if perhaps he should have.
Was someone choking?
“Is everything okay?”
There was a strange gurgling sound and a loud gasp before Hermione’s voice piped up, “Fine!”
Then some more sloshing and gagging.
Fucking hell!
The Boggart started a sort of rhythmic, breathless grunting. And this was followed by something that sounded like a goose being strangled.
“Hermione?”
“Just . . . Wait . . .”
Slapping sounds. Louder and faster.
And a male voice, Snape’s voice, moaning, “Uhhhh . . . subliiime . . .”
What the fuck?
Neville whipped around in time to see Hermione tumbling backwards, gasping for breath, face as red as a beetroot.
“Hermione. What happened?!”
There were tears in her eyes.
“What did he do?!” Neville demanded, pulling her to her feet.
Hermione blinked a few times as though trying to gain her bearings, before her face lit up with a huge smile. “He spoke,” she responded hoarsely. “Didn’t you hear him?”
Neville looked at her like she was insane, before taking in the Boggart who was breathing heavily, glistening cock still protruding fiercely towards them.
“Are you completely barmy?!” Neville took her by the arm and shook her a little but Hermione seemed blithely oblivious.
“I told you he wanted to communicate,” she sighed happily, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.
Neville stared at her again before snorting in disbelief. “So you did that just to make a point? For just one word?”
Hermione shrugged. “It worked. And it also happened to be a very ‘Snape’ word, don’t you think?”
Neville chuckled a little more as he raked his fingers through his hair. “You’re a real nutter sometimes, you know that?”
“Maybe,” Hermione grinned. “But look at the lengths I go to, to make you smile.” Her large brown eyes trailed down to rest upon the Boggart’s still-sizeable cock and Neville could hold back no longer.
The combination of tiredness and bizarreness were just too much and he erupted into laughter. The Boggart turned away and Hermione used her wand to quickly remove its blindfold and restore its trousers, allowing it to make its subdued return to the cupboard.
Neville gave a final chortle before he wheezed out a tired sigh, his smile dropping away and his face turning serious as he looked at Hermione. “Now, like I said before, if Snape starts doing anything weird after this, I’m never coming back here with you again, do you understand?”
Hermione summoned her jacket from the desk. “What sort of weird? Like making beautiful butterflies with just a flick of his fingers?”
“No, like . . .” Neville looked at Hermione who still wore a stupidly happy smile. He realised then that there was something else going on with her. Something that he didn’t fully understand. Instead or persisting, he shook his head with a wry grin, turning her by the shoulders and shoving her gently towards the door. “Let’s just get the fuck out of here.”
- 4
- 5
- 6
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I want to Snape you like an animal *complete*

I want to Snape you like an animal complete