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Doing it for the Order Complete	By : Desert_Sea Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 72679 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 4
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
- 8
- 9
- 10
A/N: Faerieduster – ‘DS, you enjoy torturing us with cliffhangers, I swear’ – Unfortunately the natural place to leave a scene is often a bit cliffy-ish. But yes, I am also just a little bit evil. ‘The pace has quickened’ – yes, there was a bit happening in the last chapter reflecting hectic and tumultuous times. It’s going to be a bit up and down. ‘Howling for the next chapter’ – love that! And here it is. :)
Ali – ‘Ker-rist on a bike!’ – *Snort* Brilliant. ‘Can't she just kiss his bits better?’ – that is definitely one option ;). ‘His knob could drop off and then where would we be?’ – Well, I’d be without the majority of my storyline as it turns out, so we must not let that happen! ‘RIP Manuel’ – indeed. I was brought up with British comedy even though I’m an Aussie so I know exactly what you’re describing. ‘Like a certain potions master I call a spade a shovel and don't suffer fools gladly’ – that’s why I like you. ‘Don't disappoint me’ – LOL – a tough master as it turns out. I will endeavour to keep delivering in a timely manner and to the quality expected x
MzPearlz – I love your binges. It was a treat to receive all your feedback. For some reason I didn’t know you were writing – and for a friend – that’s a kind gesture, a gift? ‘I'd also fuck Sev, but I hate when he's in emotional distress’ – he’s always in emotional distress in my fics, just can’t help it – but it does make the end sweeter as you say. ‘Do you know how irritating it is to go back and read your work and see a thousand 'he' and 'she's in it?’ – explain that one – are there too many? ‘Isn't that the place with the tea and gag worthy amounts of pink?’ – sure is – he just fits right in! :) ‘Hope you're getting enough sleep with life and all!’ – generally I’m alright when the meds kick in! Thanks for asking x. ‘Do I spy some Ron bashing on the sly?’ – always . . . so easy to do. ‘What'd she alter that time..? Did I miss it?’ – Nah, you didn’t miss anything, clarified this chapter. ‘Do they know that she can do the tissue changing thing too?’ – Good question – can’t say ;)
OO – ‘Makes me wish I had a wand. And magical powers. And Snape.’ – *Snort* - any particular crotches you are looking to hex at the moment? To cats have crotches? ‘Oh, and Miss Manners says the polite thing to do when you get your partner's junk zapped by dark magic is to kiss it better. I'm prepared to make amends on her behalf.’ – Hah - totally selfless as always. Hermione may indeed surprise us . . . x

Chapter 9 – Return to Order

Hermione made it as far as the lounge room before she stopped.
The enchantment hadn’t been fulfilled.
It hadn’t been . . . fulfilled.
She couldn’t leave. It was her fault. She’d been so focused on stopping herself from orgasming that she’d pulled away at the last moment. It wasn’t deliberate, a split second decision, but she’d inadvertently risked Snape’s life as a result. In fact, in a matter of hours he could be executed because of it. Because of her.
Her chest was tight, aching with the enormity of what she’d done. She must fix it. No matter what, she had to put things right.
Dumping everything but her wand on the ground, she tentatively returned to the bedroom. He was still on the floor. Motionless. The enchantment must be devastatingly powerful to take down someone like Snape. She felt sick at the thought of what she’d put him through. Was he conscious?
Kneeling beside him, she lowered her face until she could see his clearly. Despite the fact that his eyes were closed and his features weren’t contorted in pain any more, his breathing was still laboured. Speaking didn’t seem to be particularly well advised after their previous exchange but she figured she should at least attempt to make him comfortable.
‘Leviosa,' she whispered, using her wand to levitate him off the ground and lower him gently onto the bed. His eyes opened momentarily without appearing to focus before closing again. It was as though the shock of the enchantment had dazed and significantly weakened him.
Hermione chewed her bottom lip as she scanned his naked body. Would he be able to go again? Even without the pain from the enchantment, it must take some time for a man to be ready to orgasm a second time. Sighing inwardly, she realised she hadn’t the faintest clue about such things. She knew so much about so many topics but sex wasn’t one of them. Should she ask someone? But whom? And how? Harry or Ron would probably tell her but she was even too embarrassed to ask them. And she really didn’t want to leave Snape in this state.
She could administer a healing potion but she doubted it would have much effect. Time was what he most likely needed to recover. And unfortunately that was something they didn’t have a lot of.
It wasn’t cold—the bedroom fire saw to that. But he still looked . . . exposed. Reluctant to lift him again, she made her way over to a large wardrobe in the corner and opened it. An array of, mostly black, clothes were hanging on one side. The other held bedding. She chose a large, soft blanket, again expecting someone like Snape to possess only harsh, scratchy ones.
Carrying it to the bed, she knelt beside him and arranged the blanket so that it covered him up to his chest. Better. But now what? She needed to wait—a little while at least—let whatever needed to restore itself down there do whatever it needed to do. Keeping a wary eye on him, she eased herself down onto the pillow opposite.
His eyes remained closed, making him appear almost peaceful—except for the permanent frown creasing his brow. She’d never really looked at him like this, averting her gaze on most other occasions in case he deducted house points for daydreaming or insubordination or gawping or whatever else he could come up with.
She noted that his nose was definitely large. But not abnormally so. In fact, all of his features were bold—but they were also elegant. It was quite a striking combination now that she was able to study him properly. His unique features were also probably partially responsible for the fear he’d instilled in her, and every other student, since their first year—he’d always appeared strikingly severe, solemn and . . . imminently lethal. He was by far the scariest person and/or creature at Hogwarts.
But lying next to him now. Knowing that she’d hurt him. And having seen another side to him in the past weeks, a gentle and . . . considerate side, she had trouble conjuring the same trepidation. She was getting used to him. More comfortable. Of course he could still bite—he’d done so not long before. But it seemed very much like a protective reflex, an attempt at self-preservation, rather than malice.
Nevertheless, there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t attempt to attack her again for what she was about to do. It was going to be very much an exploratory venture. She literally hadn’t a clue. But she’d learned a little from him along the way and if there was something that she prided herself in, it was her capacity to learn. She’d use that, her intuition and as much Gryffindor courage as she could muster.
Picking up her wand, she reversed the hHistomalleus spell on her elbows. It had seemed the most innocuous body part to transform earlier and although she was tempted to blame them for her collapse, it clearly wasn’t the case. The truth was that she’d been selfish and she’d fucked up. So, as part of her olive branch, her attempt to make amends, she transformed one breast with a circular flourish of her wand, and then the other.
Not bad. She’d never been unhappy with the size of her breasts, or wanted bigger ones, but now that she was sporting an augmented pair she found herself quite taken with them, gently shaking the two voluptuous mounds as they rested upon her chest.
He liked touching her breasts—that was one thing she did know. And sucking on them. Her eyes returned to his stony face. There wouldn’t be a lot of sucking this time judging by the fact that he was pretty well out of it. But he might be able to touch them.
Drawing a deep breath, Hermione steeled herself for what she was fully expecting to be one of the most difficult encounters of her life. She never entered into anything under-prepared as it drove her anxiety to nosebleed levels. But this time she had no choice. All of her inexperience would be on show—up in lights. It could be unbearably shameful. And there was a good chance that it wouldn’t even work . . . that he would still . . . She immediately stopped that line of contemplation. It was just too difficult.
Leaning over, she peeled the blanket back and tossed it gently aside so that she could see all of him again. His cock was looking pretty miserable as it turned out. Or maybe that’s what normal cocks looked like. Again she had little to compare it with. Quickly, she cast a cleansing spell which caused him to stir a little but his eyes remained closed. Cleaning his penis probably wasn’t absolutely required as she knew exactly where it had been but there were too many parts of that scenario she wasn’t comfortable with so for the sake of her own psyche, it actually was required.
Reaching out a trembling hand, she touched his member with her fingertips, her eyes flickering to his face to gauge his response. Nothing. That could be bad. He had to respond at some stage, after all. Sliding her fingers forward to feel him a little more fully, she reflected that she hadn’t actually touched a penis before. Not with her hands anyway. It was so much softer than she’d expected—probably the softest skin she’d ever felt, even softer than an earlobe or lips.
She found herself suddenly petting him—like a baby rabbit or something. She didn’t imagine that it would be particularly stimulating, but she needed to get used to this as much as he did. Gradually she built up the courage to curl her fingers around it. She squeezed it a little. Pretty floppy. There didn’t seem to be much going on in there. Had it actually been physically damaged? It was possible. It was also possible that she was going to have to do a hell of a lot more than simply patting and squeezing.
Puffing her cheeks out, she released a steadying breath. You’ve just got to do it ‘Mione.
Checking that his eyes were still closed, she leaned down further until her face was directly over the hand that was still clutching him. She peered closely at his organ. It looked back at her. Surprisingly, it wasn’t completely unappetising. It was clean, after all. The issue was that it belonged to her Professor. Swallowing down the saliva that had somehow pooled in her mouth, she closed her eyes so she didn’t have to focus on too many things at once, before putting out her tongue and giving it a quick lick. Just on one side.
It tasted like skin, a fraction salty. Not too bad. She did it again. Licking a bit more this time. It was just like a lollipop, except not as nice, and warmer, and softer and . . . nothing like a lollipop. But she could do this.
She kept licking, working her way downwards until it became a bit too hairy for her to cope. She was avoiding the main part and she knew it. It was just that . . .
Raising her head, Hermione took a few deep breaths. She was never one to give up easily—and she always relished a challenge. She just needed to treat this as such—to approach it with the level of enthusiasm required to be successful. But it didn’t escape her that this should also be about pleasure. She needed to bring him pleasure and she found she wasn’t averse to the idea. After all, she owed it to him. This was her opportunity to apologise.
With that thought in mind, she gave up on the idea that she could lick him to orgasm and immediately took his head in her mouth. His thighs squeezed in slightly but, refusing to be diverted, she began stroking his shaft with her fist, pulling the loose skin up and down as she sucked gently. Did this feel good?
Tilting her head, she managed to take in his face as she continued to work. His chin lifted fractionally at an eyebrow gently arched. Something was happening. Tugging a little more forcefully, she tried to take him a little more deeply but felt herself wanting to gag. She had to respect her limits, despite what she might want to do.
Maybe she could just do more with her tongue? She started to explore the various bumps and ridges, moving her head around a little since, in her experience of sex so far, things had never been particularly stagnant. Then she felt it, a definite sponginess inside her palm. He was swelling. She smiled as she flicked her tongue around and over his head. She was even buoyed enough to venture into his slit before realising that there was something leaking out. Preferring not to think too much about it, she satisfied herself with the thought that it was normal and it was progress in the right direction.
His chest rose and fell as his lips parted to draw in more air. Hermione couldn’t believe the relief that was coursing through her body. This was going far better than she could have hoped . . . so far. The question now was, when should he go inside her? Was there also a risk that he would come in her mouth and be in another world of hurt?
Releasing him, she did a bend test on his cock with both hands and realised there was still a little way to go. What else could she do? She looked down at his testicles. Men certainly reacted when they were kicked there; no doubt they were sensitive in other ways. Venturing a hand down, she fondled his surprisingly weighty globes gently with her fingers as she continued to stroke along his length and finished by taking him into her mouth again.
He groaned. She almost bit him with joy.
His cock turned even harder within her grip. Was it time to move onto the next, and equally terrifying, part of the plan? She figured there was no point in waiting any longer. Sitting up, she found that her jaw was aching from her efforts. Still, it had been worth it for a chance to redeem herself.
Hermione shuffled toward him on her knees before lifting her leg and straddling his waist. His eyes were still closed. Reaching behind her, she grasped his erection and realised that this part was going to be more difficult than originally thought. She needed to line him up but the angle wasn’t quite right. Leaning forward, she tilted him further until it felt like he was close to the right place.
Pushing backwards, she felt some pressure but no sense that she was being entered. Straining forward again, she repositioned and tested with a dip of her buttocks. It took a few more times before she finally felt him pop through the resistance. Still wet from the previous round, she discovered that rocking backwards and forwards enabled her to gradually work him inside her. But by the time he was fully in, she was gasping from the effort. Wiping her hair back from her perspiring face, she stopped to gather herself.
Breasts. They felt rather heavy hanging from her front now. And the nipples looked enormous. Using both hands, Hermione grasped Snape by the wrists and lifted his arms, flattening his palms against the skin of her breasts. There was a small amount of weak movement from his long fingers, as though he was trying to respond. Supporting his hands with hers, she used her thighs to lift herself before dropping back down.
Her natural inclination was to move like she was on a trotting horse but it felt a bit too vertical; she needed to be more diagonal. Gliding her hips forward on the upstroke, she tilted her pelvis backwards on the downstroke. It felt better, like she was at least moving in the same plane as the angle of his member inside her. And as she moved, she squeezed her core muscles. If this was all about stimulation, she figured that would at least add something to the sensation.
Frowning in concentration, she attempted to find a rhythm but it was surprisingly difficult, feeling stiff and stilted, rather than smooth. And she was getting tired. Indeed, she would have put her hands down to support herself if she wasn’t trying to keep Snape on her breasts.
“Come on,” she whispered. “Give me something.”
And it seemed to get through. His hands suddenly firmed a little around the generous globes of her breasts before his fingers twitched and flexed, searching out her nipples. Fingertips closing upon the base of each, he tugged them in the way she’d now become used to. Immediately her belly clenched, and she felt the rhythm of her hips start to flow more naturally.
He rolled and squeezed until she began to moan. Then one of his hands turned and grasped hers, guiding it blindly downward. What was he doing? She studied his face. It gave away nothing but when she looked down she found that he’d placed her fingers against her mons—and was holding them there.
She closed her eyes. If this was what he needed, she’d do it.
Curling her fingers, she slid them down until she reached her clitoris. Gradually, she began to massage the sensitive nub, finding that her movements automatically smoothed out and sped up. As she rubbed and stroked, his hand returned to her breast and resumed rolling and teasing.
Hermione heard a breathy whine and realised it was coming from her—her own heaving chest. And when she opened her eyes she found that he was looking at her, his black orbs gazing at her so intently that she almost toppled off him. But she was getting close and she felt that he was too.
Closing her eyes again, she resumed her movements, jiggling more forcefully between her lips.
“Uhhhh,” she moaned, her head pitching forward. He clutched her breasts as a deep groan escaped him in response.
Her fatiguing thighs began to shudder but she kept rocking, squeezing him inside her as her muscles tensed. One of his hands dropped to her thigh, grasping her as he thrust into her from below.
“Gods!” she gasped. Then a whimper as her agitating fingers finally pushed her over the edge. She seized and plunged down onto him and his fingers curled into her flesh as he cried out. Writhing and shuddering, she felt the spark of the enchantment drive deep inside her as it flickered across the waves of her orgasm. He was there. She’d done it.
As tears of relief prickled her eyes, she collapsed forward. But before she could right herself, his arm was there, encircling her shoulders. And so she remained, her cheek against his chest, listening to his thundering heart and knowing that he was safe—at least for another week.
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Doing it for the Order *Complete*

Doing it for the Order Complete