Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Mission Impossible	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 11775 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money from writing these stories.

Chapter List
- 6
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- 8
A/N: Well, I finally found my muses for this one. Let's see if it goes where my notes said it was going.

He hadn’t hollered or shouted, he hadn’t even raised his voice. Severus Snape had simply walked to the door, held open the door, waited for her to step out and then closed the door behind her. Hermione stood in the hallway and sighed. Perhaps blurting it out like that wasn’t the best of ideas. Any number of things could have been going through his mind. She placed her hand on the doorknob but hesitated. He wanted to be alone or at least away from her. And if that was what he needed for the moment then she would give it to him.

            Hermione made her way down into his study and began pouring through the tomes on the shelves. She hadn’t the slightest clue as to what she was looking for; his end of the deal hadn’t exactly come through when she’d held up hers. There were a few things jotted down in her notebook, which she had to go back upstairs to retrieve. She’d paused for a moment by his door, pressing her ear against the wood, but the only thing she heard was silence. Albus had mentioned that it had been ancient restorative magic and something about needing a donor, but other than that, she had little to go on. It wasn’t as if there were an all-encompassing index listing which tomes contained information on ancient restoratives.

            She was at it for hours, at least, finding nothing even remotely close to helpful. Her brain was frazzled and the letters were beginning to dance around on the page. Hermione had to double take when she saw him leaning against the doorframe. How long he had been standing there she didn’t know, and she couldn’t tell if he were leaning casually against the frame or if he was doing so for support. If he could see his study she was certain he would growl about the state of it. Thankfully the curse that was afflicting him robbed him of the power of sight.

            “I thought you said you were going to cook.”

            Hermione had to cover her mouth to keep the exasperated half-giggle half-growl from escaping. She shook her head and sighed. “I got caught up in research,” she said plainly.

            His ears deceived him. Even after she had stated who she was he refused to believe that it was her voice. Of all the people sent to see him in his current state why would they send her? It was a cruel trick of fate, or a cruel trick of his deteriorating mind, he couldn’t tell which it was, but either way he knew that it was more likely for his sight to suddenly be restored than it was that the witch before him was Hermione Granger.

            Hermione stood from the desk and walked over to the door. She placed her hand against his cheek and he recoiled as if her touch had burned him. Concern washed over her face. “Did I hurt you?” she asked.

            “You mock me,” he said.

            “I beg your pardon?”

            “I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know why he sent you, but to claim to be someone you are not and that someone in particular, is cruel.” He said.

            Hermione was dumbfounded, struck mute at his words. How could he not believe her? How was she to prove herself to a man that could not see her and in his delirium was not likely to remember the touch of her hand, how distinct it was from another, or the feeling of her lips against his cheek? She choked back a sob and straightened up. “I do not mock you, sir. I am who I said I am. Hermione Jane Granger, the honest truth.”

            He said nothing. She imagined that if he could see he would have gazed at her with disbelief, though if he could see he would be able to see she was in fact the person she claimed to be and it wouldn’t be an issue. Severus turned slightly and stepped out of the study. Hermione growled in frustration and stomped after him. She opened her mouth to shout obscenities about how he’d mocked her in year four but her mind caught up to her lips a little too quickly and reversed direction.

            “Harry and Ginny’s engagement party.” She spat.

            He stopped. Severus Snape slowly turned around, his black voids facing in her direction. Her words had frozen him.

            “The night of Harry and Ginny’s engagement party. At the Burrow, you saw me head upstairs just after the toast and you followed me.” She stated.

~*~

            “To the boy who’s always been like a second— well, eighth son to me,” Molly Weasley raised her glass. “May he and my wonderful daughter spend many happy years together. Here’s to a beautiful wedding,” she said and tilted her glass higher in the air. “Cheers.”

            Everyone clanked glasses together in the crowded sitting room of the Burrow. It had been quite a turnout for quite the party. Harry and Ginny’s engagement had been no secret, nor had the big plans the Weasley’s had set for their engagement party. The music that had been halted sometime ago when the speeches began was started again and people began to mingle; moving in and out to the kitchen and back porch. Laughter and conversations filled the room as Ginny and Harry made their way around, conversing with various friends and family members.

            “Congratulations!” Hermione smiled and hugged Ginny.

            “Thank you!” Ginny’s face was flushed with the warm healthy glow of soon-to-be-engaged happiness and ample amounts of wine.

            “I really am happy for you and Harry,” she said.

            “I know! I’m happy for me too! You know if it wasn’t for—”

            “Gin! Your mum wants us on the back porch for a photo!” cried Harry from halfway across the sitting room, waving toward the kitchen.

            Ginny giggled and leaned forward against Hermione with a bit of a drunken swagger. “I’ll be right back,” she smiled and pecked her friend on the cheek before turning and swishing her way through the crowd toward her soon-to-be-husband. Hermione sighed. Though she truly was happy for two of her best friends she didn’t feel much like socializing.

            Glancing around the room, Hermione spied the staircase leading up to the floors above. It was as good an escape as any other, and heading through the kitchen to the back porch would only put her in the center of the event. She moved slowly through the crowd of people, not in any hurry to escape the party. With her hand on the banister she moved up the stairs and breathed a tiny sigh of relief as her feet rested on the second story landing. The noise seemed to dim as she moved down the hallway. She passed doors to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s room, a bathroom, a linen closet and Ginny’s room before she reached another staircase at the opposite end of the corridor. This staircase also led upward, but in a slightly angled direction.

            She was a bit quicker on these stairs, seldom having visited the east wing of the Burrow during her summer stays. Three bedrooms and another bathroom and another closet. The first door on the left she presumed belonged to Percy, she’d poked her head in only to discover a neat and orderly single bedded hardly decorated space. The door across from it was the room belonging to the twins; absolutely filthy, covered in cobwebs, dust, and various other substances, with a pair of bunk beds crammed against the far wall. The bathroom was next to Percy’s room and a spare bedroom, presumably once Bill’s or Charlie’s was at the end of the corridor. She turned the handle and slipped into the darkness.

            Moonlight filtered in through a window and Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. It felt nice to escape the crowd below. The noises from the party had all but faded away as she sat carefully on the edge of the bed; a larger four-poster, perhaps intended for the odd-guest or relative who popped in every now and again.

            “Sneaking away from the party so soon?”

            Hermione nearly shrieked and jumped from the bed as light flooded the room.

            Severus stood in the doorway a moment before entering the bedroom and closing the door behind him. He had flicked the light switch on the wall, bathing the room in a bright yellow glow; another one of Arthur’s attempts to commune with the muggle ways. She felt her face flush as she gazed at him. “How did you know I was up here?”

            “I followed you.” He said. “You crept up the staircase… I waited a moment and then made my way up here.”

            “That’s a bit sneaky,” she said and crossed her arms over her chest.

            “I am a spy,” he said and took a step toward her.

            “Why follow me?” she asked.

            With another few steps he was standing beside her. “To see what you were up to,” he said.

            “Is that all?” she asked.

            “What other reason would there be?”

            She did her best not to frown. It wasn’t so much that she had hoped he’d come for another reason, but rather that he’d come for something specific. The thought lingered for a moment before she forced it from her mind. She pulled her arms tighter across her chest as if to warm her body. “Well, you’ve seen what I’m up to, being alone here, so you can make your way back down to the party.”

            He nodded. “Indeed.” Though he remained standing, arms casually at his side.

            It was difficult not to let her eyes linger on his figure. Without his black cape and heavy robes to conceal him the man looked quite appealing. It wasn’t that she fancied him; certainly that couldn’t be the case, but seeing him so unguarded, though the man’s face was impassive as a stone; it let her thoughts run wild. Those strong but sinewy arms as they had gripped her; his figure aligned with hers. Hermione closed her eyes for the briefest of moments and tried to clear her mind.

            “If one were to wonder what you were doing up here alone, what would your answer be then?” he asked, and kept his eyes focused on hers.

            Her eyes darted none too discreetly to the door. She bit her lower lip to prevent a smile from blooming across her face. It was shut. They were two floors above the rowdy ruckus of the party and the thought made gooseflesh dance across the back of her neck. “I just wanted to step away,” she said and turned her back to him, gazing at the window.

            A shiver crept through her body as she felt his lips hovering near the back of her ear; his long silky hair brushing against her neck. The dress she had chosen for the party was simple but classy, bare shoulders, dipped low in the back; it was summer after all. Tiny whimpers escaped her lips as she felt his arm snake around her waist and pull her back against his body.

            “Step away in hopes that someone might follow you up her to find you…waiting?” his whisper was almost a hiss against her ear. He allowed his free hand to slither down the front of her dress, resting at the hem against her leg. “To find you…” his fingers pulled her dress slowly up her thigh, until his hand hovered near her center beneath the bunched up material. “To find you…wanting?”

            Her chest was heaving, as she let her eyes fall closed for a moment. His body was firm and she felt her head fall back against his shoulder, exposing her neck to him. Severus pressed his lips against her throat and could feel the pulsing of her blood rushing through her veins. He nibbled and suckled at her flesh, pleased as she gasped and moaned. His hand remained still, just between her legs, as he slowly trailed his lips up to the curve of her ear. “Were you waiting for me?” he asked his voice nearly as breathy as hers.

            “Yes,” she whimpered, afraid if she played the game and tried to be clever that he would be cruel enough to leave her in her current hot and bothered state.

            He could have plagued her further with questions, and he should have. But he’d been able to smell the faint scent of her arousal from the moment he’d crept in the door behind her; even more so now with his hand up her dress. And the woman drove him mad. In their handful of encounters she’d never been disappointing; such a soft supple body; willing and yielding. To feel the soft curve of her hips and the deep swell of her breasts under his fingers drove him wild; though he’d never rightly admit to it. It had been far too long since such a gorgeous witch had come to him so willingly. The first night had been a mistake, he had been sure of it; when she’d left the morning after all of their boozing surely she had realized her mistake. But at the Order meetings and the handful of other scandalous encounters; and now here. She stood with waiting wanton desires and he was eager to fulfill them.

            Hermione tried squeezing her legs together, trying to force his hand further up between her; she longed to feel his touch. The arm around her waist tightened and she whimpered as he pulled her hard against him; as if trying to force their bodies together. She could feel him; his hardness pressing against her backside. Her knees began to tremble; the delicious memory of how tight he felt inside of her, how deep and hard he fucked her; she could feel the wetness dripping against her knickers.

            “Eager…” he hissed against her ear. Managed to

            “No more so than you…” she managed to whimper in return.

            Hermione was spun around and found her back pressed against the window frame. His lips were upon hers; kissing and nipping at her as her arms tangled around his neck, fingers running through his hair. But she stopped, pulling her hand back, pressing hard against his chest. Too many times their frenzied fucks had been pressed up against something hard and unyielding. With a perfectly good bed just behind them she was determined not to waste the opportunity. Hermione arched her hips forward and pressed against him, pushing him back toward the bed.

            He stepped back almost a bit clumsily, finding himself sitting on the edge of the four poster before he could help it. Her dress was bunched up, and her hair had come loose from the ribbon she had tied it back with; but her eyes were hooded with lust as she approached. He would not resist the little minx as she pushed him further back onto the bed and climbed atop him.

            Fingers tugged at trousers; his hands practically tearing at the dress to pull it up over her head. Though the garment had been temptingly tight to begin with. He growled only once when she slapped at his hand and then slid the zipper down the side of the fabric. With haste he pulled it over her head and licked his lips as he gazed up at her. Just a thin scrap of material, a strapless bra, covered her breasts. Severus had not been so privileged as to delight in the view of her heaving breasts since their first encounter after the ministry ball; never really having the opportunity to properly undress the girl.

            Her hands were quicker than his thought as she reached behind her and undid the clasping that held her bra together. The material clung to her skin for but a moment before she let it fall from her chest. Her breasts were large, but not too large. Just right, in his opinion. They filled his hands rather fully and felt exquisite to touch; full and rounded her pert rosy nipples in a constant state of erectness. He sat up, causing her to fall forward into his lap a bit. Severus cupped her breasts and she moaned.

            His hands felt rough but firm; strong as he squeezed her flesh. She was aching between her thighs, desperate to feel him. Her lips pressed against his and she began to fumble with the buttons on his shirt, trying desperately to free him of his garments. Within moments she’d managed to pull his shirt back from his figure and then she pushed him down flat on the bed. Hermione smiled in earnest as she drank in the pale skin of his torso. He was thinner; his chest not rippling with muscles, but just enough to show that he’d kept fit. A soft smattering of wiry black hair crossed his chest; hiding a handful of scars here and there. His skin was pale, not so pale as to make him look sickly, but pale enough that in the strange orange light of the room he almost appeared to glow.

            “See something you like?” he smirked and sat up once more, cupping her shoulders and then allowing his hands to trail once more to the swell of her breasts. This time he began to roll lazy circles with his thumbs around her already stiffened nipples.

            “I’d like to see more of something I like,” she muttered and once again found her lips pressed to hers. Their kiss was fevered; tongues dueling at each other, lips melding together. His hands roamed over her body and her hands tangled once more in his hair. Somewhere between their heated kisses and touches his trousers had come undone and Hermione was once again sitting back on her heels, legs straddling his knees. “Oh…” she whimpered.

            His long thick cock was pulsing and she couldn’t help but lick her lips. Again he smirked. “Found something you like?” his chest was rising and falling nearly as harshly as hers but his voice was controlled; calm and even.

            Hermione nodded her head quickly and without hesitation she pulled her knickers down, struggled for only a moment to kick out of them and had straddled his hips. She lifted her hips and pressed his tip at her entrance. She slid slowly down his length, whimpering in pleasure as she engulfed him fully. Severus hissed, his hands gripping her hips as she began to gyrate her hips on him.

            It was hot and fast, her breasts bounced as she rode him. His hands cupping her breasts; then stroking up and down her body. She leaned forward and crushed her lips to his; his tongue tangling against hers. Hermione moaned and he pulled back from the kiss.

            “We may be…two floors above everyone else…but I’d rather not…be interrupted…” he whispered and then kissed her once more.

            Hermione had forgotten that they were at the Burrow and at any moment any number of people could discover them. Her body shivered. Her hips were still arching as she slid up and down on his thick cock; feeling him pumping up into her with every thrust. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out.

            Severus gripped her hips firmly and bounced her harder and faster against his member, their skin slapping together loudly as he did. He could feel her body tense, and her whimpers that she was trying to suppress were building in the back of her throat. He forced one hand over her mouth as he thrust harder into her; feeling her whole body tremble, her cries muffled against the flesh of his palm.

            Severus did his best not to groan; feeling her muscles spasm against his, squeezing her hot tight cavern even tighter against him. He came, pulsing and writhing, spurting into her from beneath her. His body shook for a moment as he rode the wave of his release. His heaving chest and panting breaths were loud, but not as loud as she had cried when she’d met her release. After a moment she swayed to the side and collapsed on the bed next to him, chest still rising and falling quite heavily.

            Hermione found her head nestled against his chest and lay there for a moment with her eyes closed, enjoying the feeling. His voice roused her from her comfort.

            “Oh no, Granger. I will not have this sort of post-coital recreation in a Weasley bed,” he said.

            Hermione stood with her arms crossed tightly over her chest; gazing at the shadow of the once great lover. His blank voids stared toward her. She cleared her throat. “I’d meant to ask you then,” she said. “Would that sort of post-coital recreation have been acceptable in your bed, sir?”

            Silence held the room for a moment longer before he spoke. “So it is you, then.” He said, his voice raspy and a far cry from the deep passionate voice he had once used with her. “It is you, Hermione.”

            She nodded slowly, trying hard not to let tears tumble down her cheeks. “I had to come for you, sir.” She said, and rushed forward but was stopped as he waved his hand at her.

            “You shouldn’t have come,” he said.

            Hermione bit her lower lip. “I…”

            “You shouldn’t have let him send you,” he said. And then turned his back to her. “I had rather you not seen me like this.”
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Mission Impossible