I, Snape - Chapter Twelve

by April Grey

Lavender Haze

From Chapter 10:

Something was nagging at her though, some unsettled feeling. Her mind tried to put the pieces together as she walked, going over events and conversations of the past few weeks. Something, something….

In a blinding flash she remembered. It was the conversation in the Headmaster’s office. She had felt that there had been a second, shadow conversation between Prof. Dumbledore and Prof. Snape. But she had gotten it wrong! Prof. Dumbledore had been attempting to tell her—that she was responsible for Snape! As ridiculous as it sounded, she was quite sure he had told her to ‘babysit him’. Oh Hell and Damn. Bloody wizards! They were both experts at Occlumency and Legilimency. Snape had used his mind to convince her to leave and it was going against Prof. Dumbledore’s orders to make sure Snape didn’t harm himself. The bastards!

Hermione turned around and started to run back. But then she felt her mind under attack yet again. New doubts began to pour in. It was if she were split in two and fighting herself…

Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, thought Hermione. She forced herself into a run in spite of the niggling thoughts, which all seemed to be her own:

--You know that he brews poisons for a hobby. He was most likely just brewing the Lavender Haze for a friend.

--But he probably doesn’t have any friends. Hermione replied to herself.

--And he’s too mean to kill himself. He knows it would make too many students happy.

--He tried to kill himself once, his mum is worried about him and I swear that something was going on in Dumbledore’s office.

--So he’ll be there, reading some journal and he’ll mock me and be pissed off at me for coming back and missing my train.

--And I don’t care--

--Shite. Two weeks of boredom with the creep while my parents have the time of their life without me. And Harry and Ron are probably having fun right now, and I’m babysitting the greasy git.

--Sod off! He probably likes being alone so he can cross dress. I bet I’ll catch him in a pink tutu listening to Swan Lake.

Damn, damn. Damn. Hermione felt like her head was about to explode.

Hermione threw open the door to Snape’s chambers and quickly went inside. The first thing she noticed was that the door wasn’t even warded. She ran to his bedroom. It was empty. Maybe he’d gone for a walk. So how was she going to explain her presence here?

She walked into her bedroom and gasped. She wasn’t expecting him to be lying on her bed. And she wasn’t expecting him to be holding an empty crystal cut vial leaking a few purple drops on to the coverlet.

Hermione started to hyperventilate. All right, she told herself, Calm down. Breathe. Very well, Lavender Haze.

Tears began to trickle down her face. She thought back to the potions recipe—it hadn’t listed an antidote. She touched his neck; there was a faint and thready pulse. Well, that was something. But it had been at least 15 minutes since she left him. There was no time.

“Please Hogwarts, I need to Accio something. Please cooperate to save his life!” She started to hiccup. Oh great, having to perform a spell with hysterical hiccups.

“Accio antidote to Lavender Haze.” She waited. Nothing happened.

“Oh, you damned twit. What is it? Think! You’ve got to think! He said back in the Fifth year that he never brews a poison unless the antidote is readily available. Right?

“Accio Universal Antidote.”

Hermione waited, her body shaking. And then she heard something. It was flying through the air, very fast. She lifted her hand and caught it just in time! It was the bottle of antidote!

She got her arm behind his neck and lifted him up. He was very heavy for someone who was all bones. She pulled the cork out of the bottle with her teeth. Prying open his jaws, she poured the whole bottle down into his mouth. Universal Antidote was mostly charcoal and ground up bezoar from a goat’s stomach, but it worked on 95% of poisons. She shifted herself behind him, holding his body semi upright. She saw that he hadn’t swallowed. No! She stroked his throat, the way she’d do when pilling her mum’s cat. His large Adam’s apple finally bobbed and the antidote went down.

She sat there, continuing to sob while feeling his wrist to see if she needed to do artificial respiration. It was still irregular, but it seemed to be getting stronger.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes. Hermione gaped. His eyes usually looked black, but now they seemed even darker. She realized that the antidote had almost certainly stopped him from dying, but there might be some residual effects, like his eyes being completely dilated. He looked up at her and stroked her face.

“You’re here,” he smiled tenderly at her. Hermione smiled back, not sure what was going on and fascinated by the change in him.

“Yes, I came back.”

“Come here, closer, love. I can’t see you very well.” He continued to stroke her face lovingly.

“Umm, yes. The light’s not very good,” Hermione scrunched down until she was on the bed along side him.

He felt for her hand and took it in his and began to kiss it. “I had hoped to see you again. I’ve missed you so much.”

Hermione had a very unsettled feeling about this. “I wasn’t gone too long.”

Suddenly he was on top of her kissing her fiercely on the lips, the neck, her nose, her eyes. “Much too long—“ There was an urgency and a huskiness to his voice that bespoke a man about to have sex. It was happening too quickly. Who did he think she was? Wait a second? Euphoria! He probably did think she was someone else.

“Say my name, love.” Hermione demanded. He was pressing up against her leg and she felt the hard ridge of his penis against her.

He said a name but he mumbled it against her neck.

“Louder,” said Hermione, becoming aroused in spite of herself under his amorous onslaught.
“Lily, give yourself to me now,” he pleaded.

Oh hell, out of the frying pan and into the fire, thought Hermione. But it couldn’t be Lily Potter, Harry’s mum. Right? It had to be some other Lily.

He had his hand on her mound and was caressing it in a very exciting way. She found herself slightly pushing herself into his hand. “Oh Gods!” she murmured.

“You’ll leave James for me, won’t you?” He continued to dry hump her leg while stimulating her with his hand. And his mouth was doing incredible things to her neck. Hermione knew it was wrong. She could probably put a stop to it with a stunner spell. The problem was… she was enjoying it!

Those amazing hands of his were now working their way into her jeans. Stop or go, which do I do? She asked herself. She looked at his face. His usual homeliness was transformed. He looked like he was having a religious experience-- one which she wouldn’t mind sharing.

After a moment’s thought, she reached her decision.

“Yes, Severus, take me.” Now, she’d done it. Well, in for a knut-- in for a galleon.

They sat on the terrace of the pensione together having a scrumptious little lunch of prawn salad, tropical fruit and rolls.

“Albus, you seem very introspective. Are you tiring of Nice already?”

“Not at all. I was just thinking, my love.” Dumbledore’s nose was covered by purple Muggle sun block and he wore dark glasses over his sparkling blue eyes.

“Ah, that we must go have another swim?” Althea smiled. “Or that maybe we should go inside and experiment some more with that wicked oil and body paint set from last night.”

“Neither, my dear. I was wondering. Did you mean it when you said we had no time to lose?”

“Well, what do you think? It’s only logical. Now that the Philosopher’s Stone is destroyed, we don’t have forever. That is unless you wanted to bother making another one, now that that horrid Voldy creature is gone.”

Dumbledore studied her over his dark glasses. His normally relaxed and beaming face was quite serious. “Hmmm. Quite. Well, then…” He stood up, removed his glasses, crossed to the witch and went down on bended knee.

“Althea Greystone Snape, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

His fingers deftly undid her jeans and brought them along with her knickers down around her ankles and feet. She shook them off onto the floor. He raised his robes up and over his head. A feeling of unreality struck Hermione. She was about to have sex with Professor Snape!

She put out a hand to steady herself and felt his thin, yet muscular bicep flex while he began to work off her tee-shirt. It took a moment for her to accept the fact that she was terrified, even though she had chosen this. And then, he stopped. And looked at her. There was a long pause.

“Lily, forgive me. I have no manners.” And he laid back and brought her head to rest on his chest. She heard his heart thumping hard, reassuring her that the antidote had worked. “I didn’t mean to rush you. We have all the time in the world, now.” And he cupped her face in his hands and gently kissed her. This time she was given the leeway to kiss him back, and she did.

She ran her hands up his arms and across his shoulders to touch his long, unkempt hair. She then caressed his unshaven jaw. His beard was hard and bristly as she suspected it would be. He was still breathing hard, but her own body was beginning to catch up with him. She sighed as their mouths met and melted together. She felt him reach behind and undo her bra. Hermione knew that she was no blushing virgin, but she felt a sudden shyness.

He broke off the kiss to nuzzle and stroke her breasts. His beard created a sensation of pain and pleasure as it rasped against her nipple; he kneaded them with his fingers, stroking and softly rolling them whilst his mouth kissed and nibbled a trail from the hollow between her breasts up to her neck. He sucked on the sensitive flesh there and Hermione felt an intense wetness release between her legs.

She felt as if she were floating on top of a warm ocean. Her senses spilled over from the delightful attentions of Snape’s mouth and hands. She reached down, wanting to touch what she had already seen with her eyes two nights before.

Her fingers found a swan’s neck of flesh. She swallowed and wondered what it was going to feel like inside of her. She was thankful, so very thankful that he’d had the intuition to slow down. And she prayed that he wouldn’t rip her apart in his drugged state. He moaned when she touched him down there and she tried to encircle it with her fingers, but the circumference was too much. Her thumb found the dripping tip and tenderly massaged it. He pressed eagerly into her hand as she moved gingerly up and down the shaft.

Hermione looked up into his eyes and enjoyed the sight of a face transformed by passionate love, not lust. He put his arms around her and pulled her closer.

“Don’t think about me, beloved.” And he again kissed her deeply and softly. The sound of his voice was honeyed velvet. She suddenly felt envious of Lily. That he was deeply in love with Lily, there could be no doubt. Peculiar, it was very peculiar when the quick envied the dead.

She shook off the morbid thought and spoke out, “I’m ready for you.” A look of joy spread across his face. “Lily, my love.” Grabbing a pillow, he placed it reverently under her hips and then he positioned his face at her cunny. He parted her lips and began to lap her. Hermione moaned loudly, unable to process the intensity of the sensation. His thumb rubbed at her clitoris as he plunged his tongue deep into her pink, velvety folds.

“Oh Gods,” she cried out as the first orgasm started to hit. His large, firm hands cradled her hips, riding out the storm of her frenzy. He did not stop until she rested her hand on his shoulder and pressed it signaling him to stop. He looked at her with elation.

“I waited a long time for that.” And then he covered her body with his and he slowly eased his penis into her still throbbing sheath. He seemed very aware that he could hurt her and the pains he took to not move too quickly were obvious from the way his muscles shook and trembled. He carried his weight on his forearms and Hermione was surprised that he had so much strength.

She lifted up her hands to stroke the hair on his chest and to play with his nipples. He groaned at her touch and shot further into her, temporarily losing control. But he quickly regained it and withdrew his penis a fraction of its length before bringing it further inside.

Unlike the mindless, frantic, plunging of her prior lovers, Snape was quite deliberate in his lovemaking. It seemed he was determined to wring out every ounce of pleasure for the two of them. The second orgasm snuck up on Hermione out of nowhere: the contractions gripped her vagina and she felt him slow himself and wait for her to be done.

He kissed her again, brushing his lips against hers, and then he began to thrust into her more forcefully than before. Though, he only moved a few inches in and out of her, the sensations were magnified three fold by her already over stimulated and engorged flesh.

She began to whimper and then scream when a third, and the most powerful, orgasm wracked her body. He kissed her repeatedly, whispering, “Yes, yes. Oh Gods, yes,” and he shot his semen into her and his body quivered against hers.

They both lay on the bed, bodies entwined and covered in sweat. There was only the sound of their combined breathing. Hermione felt as if her body had turned to lead and she couldn’t move a muscle.

However, her mind was still active. She had a theory about Lavender Haze and she wanted to test it out.

She rested her head on his chest and touched the muscles of his arm in small strokes. He smiled and took her hand in his.

“Severus?” said Hermione hoping to high heavens that she didn’t sound too dissimilar from Lily.

“Yes, my love?” He sounded so mellow, not like the professor she’d known since childhood.

“Why did you try to kill yourself?”

“I didn’t try. I succeeded or I wouldn’t be with you.” He chuckled.

Hermione flinched. She’d almost ruined it. “How silly of me, of course. So, why did you?”

“To be with you. And because once the Dark Lord was dead, I had no purpose left.” He lifted her hand and kissed it. “We will always be together now.”

Well, thought Hermione, this was turning into a very interesting day indeed.

She took a minute to collect her thoughts and figure out how many more questions she wanted answers to.

On to Chapter Thirteen
Back to Chapter Eleven