Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Real Thing	By : Dazzlious Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 9303 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from J K Rowling's fantastic books or films, I'm just borrowing and playing with them for a little while and get no monetary reward for doing so.

Chapter List
- 1-Desire
- 2-Fulfillment
- 1
- 2
A/N: Just a fluffy, porny little plot bunny that was getting in the way of writing other things. Definitely nothing serious. Enjoy!
Thanks as always to my beta, Mamacita. Dx

I took a deep breath as I stood outside the door. What I was about to do was scary and I knew it would have a major impact on the rest of my life, but I had thought it through time and again and knew I had no choice but to do it. Not tackling this problem head-on was slowly driving me insane. Distracted to the point of madness, my school work was really starting to suffer.
Even my best friends Harry and Ron, who were usually clueless about anything but Quidditch and certainly never took any interest in my problems, had noticed the change in me, which showed just how serious things had got, although they along with my other friends had no idea what the real cause of my angst was. However, it had been obvious enough for them and others to comment and suggest I seek help, either in the form of counselling or from Madam Pomfrey, depending on whether they thought my illness was mental or physical.
I looked at the door again. I knew what I was doing was incredibly risky, especially considering the person I was dealing with. If it went wrong I was likely to be expelled, assuming I wasn’t sent to Filch to be strung up in the dungeons for the rest of my life, and my good name would be dragged through the mud. I snickered quietly. Who was I kidding? I had no good name, especially where this particular teacher was concerned. In some ways, that made what I needed to do even more of a puzzle.
I took another deep breath, and before I could change my mind and run away I rapped soundly on the thick wooden door, almost cringing at the loud noise it made. I waited. Perhaps there was no one in there; perhaps all this summoning of my Gryffindor courage was for nothing. But a moment later a voice, dark and clearly unhappy at being disturbed, bade me enter. Swallowing nervously, I turned the handle and pushed the door open to do as it asked.
The Potion Master’s study was darkly lit and almost every available space was filled. The walls contained shelves — some stacked with books, the others with large glass jars containing . . . well, I didn’t like to think what was in them. I certainly didn’t want to look at them. The Potions Master himself was behind a desk piled high with parchment and books and even more glass jars, just about visible in the gloom. I closed the door and stood in front of the desk waiting for Professor Snape to look up at me.
‘Sit down, Miss Granger, and stop lurking,’ he said grumpily without raising his head. His free hand indicated the seat behind me.
I’ll admit I was surprised. He had obviously looked up just long enough to see who was entering before going back to his marking, but I hadn’t seen him do it and couldn’t help but think about the stories that had circulated around the school for years about his strange powers, including the ability to read minds. If he could really do that it would make the next few minutes so much easier. I stood there swaying a little, my nerves now jangling and my stomach doing major somersaults. I think it would be safe to say that I was beginning to regret having knocked on the door, but it was too late now. I had no other excuse for being there than the real reason.
After a few more seconds Snape dropped his quill and looked up at me once more, that trademark scowl firmly on his face.
‘Did I not request that you sit down, Miss Granger?’ he asked coldly, his dark eyes glittering with malevolence.
I nodded but remained standing. I couldn’t sit down for what I needed to do.
‘Then do as you’re told for a change,’ he said snidely. He picked up his quill again, obviously intending to go back to marking his essays.
I knew his strategy. He wanted to make me feel as uncomfortable as possible, both with the office décor with its creepy specimens and with his dismissive attitude, carefully designed to make me feel small. That would make me far easier for him to pick on when he finally decided to make his move. But I wasn’t going to let him get to me. Not tonight, not with what I needed to do. I needed to be at the peak of my confidence to follow through on my plan.
He stopped again, dropping his quill with a loud sigh as he rubbed at his eyes, apparently exasperated at my refusal to sit.
‘Are you unable to follow even a simple command, Miss Granger?’ he asked nastily. ‘I think I should take ten points from Gryffindor for your insolence.’
He was goading me into arguing with him. I knew that. It was his favourite way of torturing us: Harry, Ron, and me. He would take points for something completely unfairly, knowing that as Gryffindors we would feel compelled to argue at the unjustness of his penalty. This would usually result in the loss of further points, a detention for the arguer, and a smug and spiteful look from the snarky Potions Master, followed by delighted laughter from the Slytherins led by Draco Malfoy and his cronies. He was despicable and mean and I should have hated him. But I didn’t.
I couldn’t argue with him, but I knew, too, that this was my only chance. If I sat down as he wanted me to, he would go back to ignoring me again until my nerve had gone and I ended up slinking away back to Gryffindor tower like a stupid and embarrassed little girl. Whilst his full concentration was on me, I had to act.
I didn’t speak. I didn’t need to. What I was doing said everything. I pulled at the clasp of my school robe and shrugged out of it, feeling it slide down the back of my legs as it hit the floor. The room was cool even with the fire in the small grate, the legacy of being located in the dungeons. The sudden rush of cold air over my skin caused my nipples to stiffen as small goosebumps covered my body, partially from the cold and partially from the arousing excitement of what I had just done.
I looked directly at Professor Severus Snape, the love of my life, and smiled.
He didn’t smile back. In fact, he looked completely shocked. Not a surprise, really, as I don’t suppose he was expecting to see a completely naked eighteen-year-old girl standing in his office — especially not me — although it soon became clear that he wasn’t completely horrified by any means. After all, he did look me over, almost as if I was a prize racehorse he was considering buying.
‘Miss Granger, what do you think you’re doing?’ he asked, his voice deeper than I had ever heard it. It made me shiver. ‘Put your robe back on at once. And where are your clothes?’
‘I don’t want to put it back on,’ I said as seductively as I could. Which probably wasn’t all that seductive, as I was now terrified.
Snape scowled and stood, trying to look at my face although I did notice that his gaze was drawn downwards more often than he would probably have liked.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ he asked as he moved around the desk, reaching down for my robe as if he meant to cover me up.
I moved away, just enough that he couldn’t wrap the material around me.
‘I’m in love with you, sir,’ I told him honestly. My voice was quiet now, although solid. There was no sign of the wavering that I had thought it might have.
‘Don’t be so ridiculous, girl,’ Snape snapped, stalking towards me with the robe.
‘I’m not being ridiculous,’ I said rationally, looking him straight in the eyes before he could get the robe on me. ‘I’ve been in love with you for years and it’s driving me mad. I need to make love to you.’
Snape stopped and held out my robe. ‘Put the robe on, Miss Granger,’ he said huskily.
‘I don’t want to,’ I replied, shaking my head although I did reach out and take the garment from him before he tried to force me into it.
‘I have no desire to see you naked,’ Snape said coolly, although I noticed his eyes were still not quite focussed on my face all the time.
‘If that’s the case, then why do you keep looking at me?’ I asked triumphantly.
‘Whilst I have no desire to see you naked, Miss Granger, your insistence upon my doing so means I have no choice in the matter. If you choose to show yourself off to me in such a manner, then why shouldn’t I look at you?’
His voice was snide and stung like a sharp slap, and his gaze, this time, was firmly on the lower half of my body rather than on my face. I could feel myself flushing with embarrassment both at the rebuke and at the funny feeling that him gazing between my legs made me feel, but he had said harsh things to me for years and I was used to that. I really needed him to know just how much I needed and wanted him. I wanted him to know what he did to me, what he was turning me into.
‘I need you,’ I whispered.
That probably wasn’t as explanatory as I could have hoped for, but was all I could manage at the time.
Snape’s laugh was bitter and snappy.
‘You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you, Miss Granger?’ His scowl had reappeared. ‘Now put on your robe and leave, before I put you in detention with Mr Filch.’
His eyes were back on my face now as I shuddered at the idea of detention with the awful caretaker. But I couldn’t admit defeat now. Not until he knew all, anyway.
I took a step towards him.
‘It’s true, Professor,’ I said urgently. ‘I realised I was in love with you when I was fifteen. By the time I was sixteen I was masturbating to fantasies of you all the time.’ My face reddened slightly at this confession but it didn’t stop me. ‘By seventeen, I knew for sure that you were the one I longed for, the one I wanted to give my virginity to. But even though I was old enough, in the eyes of the law at least, I held off. But now I’m eighteen and I can’t hold off any longer, sir. I want you so much it hurts — emotionally, physically, and mentally — and it’s getting worse. My school work is suffering, I can’t relax and I can’t sleep, not without dreams of you. Please, Professor Snape, if you don’t help me I’m going to end up going insane or worse.’
By the end my voice had a desperate pleading quality to it, shot through with despair. I gazed longingly at the object of my affection, praying that he would take pity on me.
Snape sighed again and folded his arms, looking intently at my face.
‘Please put your robe back on, Miss Granger,’ he said much more gently than his previous requests. ‘And then we can discuss this.’
Nodding, I slipped the robe over my shoulders, feeling relief at the warmth that covered my body as I did it up. It really was cold in his study. I looked in distaste at the glass jars.
‘Do we have to talk here?’ I asked unhappily.
Snape continued to look at me for a moment. Seeming to decide something, he shook his head.
‘No, come with me,’ he ordered coldly and led me to another door in the wall that I hadn’t noticed, camouflaged as it was by shelves. As he opened the door he turned to look at me. ‘I would of course prefer, Miss Granger, that no one knew you’d been in here,’ he said before ushering me in.
I nodded and followed him into what were obviously his private quarters. My heart skipped a beat. Professor Snape had brought me to his private rooms. It didn’t mean much, of course, but it was a start.
This room was almost as dark as his study, although it brightened a little when Snape waved his wand, murmuring Lumos as he walked through the room. He gestured for me to sit on the sofa that was near the fireplace. There were also two chairs and a small coffee table.
I perched on the edge of the sofa before realising it was quite comfortable and making myself more at home. I looked around the room at the Slytherin décor of the wall-hanging above the fireplace and the dark greens, blacks, and silvers of the colour scheme as Snape opened a cupboard and withdrew a bottle and two glasses. He returned to sit in the chair closest to me and put them on the table. Without saying a word he uncorked the bottle and poured two measures of the amber liquid into the glasses.
‘Brandy,’ he said as he passed me a glass. ‘I have Firewhisky, but I’m sure you’d prefer this. It’s smoother.’
He took a large mouthful of the liquid as I raised the glass carefully to my lips. I wasn’t really a big drinker. The odd glass of wine at Christmas and a few Butterbeers during celebrations were about my limit, but I tasted the brandy anyway. It made me cough and I could feel it burning all the way down to my stomach. Snape looked at me, seemingly amused.
‘Sorry, I don’t really drink,’ I managed over the cough, then took another small sip. That went down a bit more easily.
‘Hopefully, the drink will calm you a little,’ Snape said, his face carefully neutral now. ‘You were getting a little overwrought in my study, Miss Granger.’
‘I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,’ I replied quickly, thinking back to how I had admitted to him that I played with myself while thinking about him.
Well, it was true, I did — all the time, at the moment — and that was why I had decided I needed the real thing. Making myself come whilst fantasising about Snape just wasn’t good enough any longer. I wanted him to make me come. Of course, I was terribly naïve and completely inexperienced with boys, my entire experience being a lot of snogging and a quick fumble with Viktor back in the fourth year, and one electrifying but ultimately disappointing kiss with Ron one evening at the Burrow back in the summer before the start of school. In all honesty, there hadn’t really been anyone else because I simply wasn’t interested. Once I had realised I was in love with Severus Snape, the rest of the world had ceased to exist for me, sexually at least.
For a moment I debated removing my robe again. It was much warmer in this room and it might focus Snape’s attention the way I wanted it to, but chances were it could ruin things, too. I could always remove it later — or better still, Professor Snape could remove it for me.
‘I’m sorry to have thrust this upon you,’ I said honestly. ‘But it obviously wasn’t something I could mention in class or during mealtimes. And I really am completely serious about wanting to make love to you.’
Snape didn’t say anything for a moment, just sipped at his brandy which was almost empty. Mine was still untouched apart from the two small sips. I took another out of nervousness. His eyes found mine again and for a few minutes we sat there staring at each other, me willing him to see that I was genuine in my desire for him.
‘I still do not understand,’ he said finally, ‘why you should have chosen me.’
I sighed. ‘Because I’m in love with you,’ I said sincerely. ‘Every night I dream of you . . . of us. I think about you all the time and it’s affecting my work. I’m sure you must have noticed in Potions even if you haven’t heard any of the other teachers discussing it.’
He nodded. ‘Minerva and Filius have both mentioned a drop in your usual high standards,’ he admitted. ‘And your inattentiveness in my own class has been absolutely diabolical. A few times I’ve come close to giving you detention.’
‘Because I’m obsessed with you,’ I told him candidly.
Snape took another large swig of his brandy, then turned the glass around in his long, lithe fingers.
‘And what makes you so sure that I am the problem?’ he asked, his voice a low drawl.
‘Because my desire for you is being left unsatiated however many times I make myself come,’ I said, completely unembarrassed now. ‘I need more than I can give myself. I need you.’
‘But surely Mr Weasley or Mr Potter would make a much better partner for you.’
‘But I’m not interested in Harry or Ron,’ I said, shaking my head in exasperation. ‘I’m in love with you.’
Snape snorted and poured a second measure of brandy into his glass. ‘You are not in love with me, Miss Granger. Infatuated, maybe. But certainly not in love.’
I shook my head vehemently. ‘No. It’s not just infatuation, sir. Not after almost four years. It hurts when I don’t see you and it hurts when I do,’ I admitted. ‘The longing for you to touch me is so painful sometimes I just want to scream. And the worst thing is that I didn’t even have to take Amortentia to feel this way about you. I really do feel as if I’m going mad from the desire.’
‘I am not a nice man, Miss Granger,’ Snape said, his voice sounding darkly dangerous and completely delicious, making me shiver once more. ‘I am not what you’re looking for.’
‘On the contrary,’ I retorted. I placed my glass back on the table and stood, moving closer to him. ‘You’re exactly what I’m looking for. I know you’re snarky and bitter and you can be mean and a complete bastard, but I’m in love with you anyway.’
Snape scowled at my words and I thought I had offended him, but a moment later his glass was back on the table and he’d risen too, still looking at me intently and holding onto my shoulders as if worried I was going to disrobe again.
‘I’m not right for you, Miss Granger,’ he insisted, his voice almost a rasp.
‘But you are,’ I said, just as certain.
‘You said you are a virgin?’
‘Yes. But I’m ready. Really I am. And it’s you I’ve wanted since forever.’
He shook his head. ‘I’m not a gentle man, Miss Granger. Not a gentle lover. I fear you would not enjoy the experience with me.’
His hand had left my right shoulder now and was gently brushing at my cheek. There was a look on his face that I couldn’t quite identify. Was it regret? Or longing?
‘I don’t care,’ I whispered as his thumb brushed across my lips, stopping in the middle as if to hush my words. I kissed it.
‘You need someone nearer your own age, someone more—’
‘I need you!’ I cried out, cutting off his words and finally allowing all the pain I was feeling to erupt from deep inside me where I had been keeping it bottled up for so long. ‘Otherwise it will kill me.’
Without really thinking about what I was doing I grabbed him, pulling him to me as my mouth found his, my soft, warm lips on his harder, cold ones. I felt him stiffen for a second as my tongue pressed at his lips, but then his arms wrapped around me in return and his mouth opened and he kissed me every bit as passionately as I was kissing him.
It was then that my brain almost exploded with pleasure. This was in no way like the kiss I had shared with Ron, nor was it even close to the kisses Viktor and I had enjoyed. This was something completely new, and it was making me weak at the knees and causing my heart to race.
We parted briefly, long enough for me to whisper ‘Please?’ before his lips found mine again, although I wasn’t sure whether it was in response to my request or to stop me from begging him for more.
‘We shouldn’t do this,’ he said after we parted the second time. ‘I’m not right for you.’ This time, his voice really was a rasp, and I recognised the edge of desire in it.
‘I don’t care,’ I said passionately. ‘I really don’t care whether you think you’re right for me or not, Professor. I know you are, and I don’t want anyone else.’
He looked at me appraisingly, and I could see the indecision in his eyes. I was sure he wanted me, too, but he was trying to fight it.
‘I won’t leave,’ I warned. ‘I’m not going anywhere until you make love to me.’
Snape scowled as deeply as I had ever seen him do. I had annoyed him with my statement. He seemed to think for a moment.
‘If I take you, it will be completely,’ he warned, his voice like molten chocolate. One hand was cupping my chin, the other resting gently in the centre of my back. ‘You will belong to me in every way, Miss Granger. If you don’t agree to this we can go no further. Once it starts, I will not stop until I have taken total control of your body.’
My heart was suddenly beating twice as fast. Was he really saying he would make love to me?
‘Anything,’ I whispered excitedly. ‘Anything you want.’
‘Be careful what you agree to,’ Snape warned sternly. ‘As I said, I am not a gentle lover. Perhaps you should take some time to consider this more fully before making your decision.’
But I wasn’t listening. All I heard was that he wanted me, that the man I loved was willing to give me the relief I needed so badly and hopefully love me in return. The thought that it might not be like my fantasies didn’t get as far as my tortured brain; even if it had, at that point it wouldn’t have mattered. There was no way I was leaving now. No way I was turning down the thing I had wanted for so many years.
‘I’m yours,’ I said adamantly. ‘I meant what I said.’
Snape looked at me again, his hand stroking my cheek for what seemed like an eternity, and I began to worry that he would change his mind.
‘In that case, go to the bedroom and remove your robe,’ Snape said commandingly. He released me and pointed to show me where the bedroom was. ‘I’ll be in shortly.’
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The Real Thing