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AN: Hi guys! This is a little Oneshot that’s been nagging at me recently, so I felt the need to get it out. Inspired by recent events *ahem*Quarantine*ahem* I promise I am going to update Her Shocking Fate very soon. I’m just having a lot of trouble with this next chapter, but I think I found a workaround that is going to solve the issues I was having. Also, I haven’t abandoned The Libidinus Curse. I just have a lot going on right now and have to prioritize on my writing. Anyway, I hope you are all doing well during this crisis and being safe (I’m in the states, so everything has been really up in the air and I only just got my paperwork through for unemployment, so hopefully now that I’m a little less freaked out, I’ll be able to write more). Thank y’all so much for your encouragement, it’s much appreciated, especially during this stressful time. Love you! 



pent-up

adjective (pent up when postpositive)

  1. not released; repressed; pent-up emotions
  2. kept unwillingly; I've been pent up in this house for over a year



Hermione paced the landing at the top of the stairs. Every time she thought she had worked up the courage to knock, she found herself making another loop across the creaky floorboards. She wouldn’t put it past Snape to be fully aware of her presence out here, despite the Silencing Charms he had clearly placed on the door. Strange, but the thought seemed to steel her nerves. 

“What?” he barked, having ripped the door open shortly after her second set of knocks. 

“Er, sorry Professor. May I come in?” 

“I can’t see why I would possibly agree to that.” 

“I… have a proposal of a … personal nature, and I think you will probably agree that it’s best we don’t discuss it here.” 

Snape scowled down at her, but eventually let out a huff of breath and stepped back to allow her entry. 

“Right,” she began, suddenly forgetting her practiced speech now that she was actually here. He had a cauldron under a Stasis Charm on the dresser and a number of jars and bowls of prepared ingredients scattered across the window seat. And, Good Merlin, he had stripped down to his shirtsleeves, the cuff of his right arm rolled up to the elbow, the cuff of his left hastily unfurled. Clearly, he had enough going on without her barging in here with her ridiculous request. 

But she was here, now. And she wasn’t likely to get another chance. Did she want this little problem of hers taken care of or didn’t she? 

“Right,” she repeated, pacing to avoid meeting his scowling eyes. “As I mentioned, I have a request. It is of an… unusual nature. I have come to a rather… unexpected conclusion about something, but… I came to it in a very logical way, so... I hope you will allow me the dignity of explaining myself fully before you decide.” 

“I make no promises.” 

“Right. Er…” she caught herself biting her lip and forced herself to stop that. Taking a deep breath, she launched into her speech. “You may have noticed that this isolation is driving everyone a bit batty. The first two weeks weren’t terrible, but something began to change after that. Whether it is from boredom or anxiety is unclear, but something has definitely shifted in the relational dynamics of our… little community.” 

“Get to the point, Granger.” 

“You see… Harry and Ginny have paired off, naturally. They’ve spent most of their time locked away together in Harry’s room. You tend to keep to yourself, so maybe it hasn’t been obvious to you, but I have suddenly found myself in the unfamiliar position of being the only available female in a house full of bored, hormonal males.” She chanced a glance up at Snape and found him scowling down at her. It was not the impatient, irritated scowl of a moment ago. He looked alarmed, and there was a hint of something like the protective concern she had seen only a couple of times before. 

“I trust all of them,” she hurried to assure him, assuming he expected her to report some transgression. “All of you . But it’s… well, it’s beginning to affect my work. I’m not accustomed to being the focus of so much pent-up sexual tension, and… it has begun to affect me... physiologically .” Her cheeks began to burn and she hurried to get her meaning out before he cut her off or she lost her nerve. “You see, my body is responding to the attention in a way I cannot seem to control, and nothing I do will stop its insistence that I succumb to my base urges. The problem is… I cannot allow myself to accept any of their offers.

“Ronald and I have had a tumultuous past and it would be irresponsible to complicate my relationship with him any more than I already have. Fred and George are his brothers, so the same problem applies there. I considered Sirius, but I think of him rather like an uncle and I have no interest in changing that dynamic. The thought of sleeping with him doesn’t appeal to me at all. And there’s really only so much I can do for myself when my own hormonal body is begging me to seize the procreative opportunities at hand...”

“What… exactly are you trying to imply, Miss Granger?” Severus Snape had gone very still. He was staring down at her like she had lost her mind. But he hadn’t kicked her out yet. That had to be a good sign. 

Hermione’s shoulders dropped and she let out a breath, facing him head on and trying her best to meet his eye. “I want you to have sex with me.” 

Snape’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t move. “You want… your hateful… old… teacher, who has spent the better part of seven years making your life a living hell and whom you and your classmates have labelled with any number of nasty descriptors… to have sex with you.” 

Hermione glanced away with a shrug. “You aren’t that old.” 

“Alright, out,” he snapped, stalking forward and pointing at the door. “Go on. Go and report back to your little friends. I’m sure they will find it all very amusing.”

Hermione stood her ground, even as he gripped her shoulder and jerked her around toward the door. “It’s not a prank, Professor. I’m entirely serious.” 

“Then perhaps you should spend some time in that filthy lot Black has the nerve to call a garden. Clearly, you need some fresh air.”

“It’s only logical, Professor. You of all people should understand that. We’re all trapped here for the foreseeable future and meanwhile we’ve got a lot of work to do. It’s unfortunate that my body is insisting upon its prime directive right now of all times, when everything is coming to a head. But it is an unchangeable fact. And I know I would get a lot more done a lot faster if I could just fulfill that need and let my head clear a bit.” He had stopped pushing her toward the door and now loomed over her, glaring down with skeptical, assessing eyes. She seized the chance to turn back toward him. “If you really aren’t interested, obviously you are free to decline.” 

Snape sniffed disdainfully. “How noble of you.” 

She blushed. It was suddenly very apparent how close they were standing, and how very tall he was. “I keep thinking about Maslow’s hierarchy of needs,” she said, when the silence lengthened. “The work I’m attempting to do is on the Self-Actualizing level, but I can’t seem to put my all behind it because I’ve got needs lower on the pyramid that are going unfulfilled. ” 

He scoffed at her, then surprised her by turning away and stalking back into the room. When he turned back toward her, he was wearing a curious expression. “I am still your professor, Miss Granger. It may be doubtful that I will ever teach you again, when and if your disrupted seventh year recommences. But the fact remains that until you have sat your NEWTS, I remain in a position of authority over you. That is all we are to each other. It is all we can be.”

Hermione nodded, squeezing her eyes shut in humiliation.

“However,” he continued in that low growl that always seemed to get beneath her skin, “it is also true that I am a man who is very likely to die in the coming months. A man… unlikely to have many opportunities like this one before then.” 

Hermione’s eyes went wide and she could feel her pulse racing as a tight heat began to gather deep within her. 

He studied her reaction, watching her with those keen, assessing eyes. Finally, he straightened to his full height, folding his arms across his chest. “I have no interest in wooing you,” he said. “I am not a romantic man and I have no desire to make patient love to you.” 

She shook her head, wetting her lips unconsciously. “I don’t need you to. I can take care of my own needs, but my stupid body won’t be satisfied without that... skin on skin.” 

“It wouldn't be personal," he said, watching her carefully. "You would be nothing more to me than a warm body and a tight sheath." Hermione's mouth went dry. He was goading her, she knew, but it wasn't having the effect he intended. "But… if all you want is a quick tumble beneath the sheets… I might be able to accomodate you.” 

“That’s all I need,” she whispered. 

He cleared his throat. “Very well.” Then, with a flick of his wrist, the door locked behind her and she felt the ripple of wards going up. 

Her eyes went wide. “Now?” 

“Did you have a previous engagement?” 

She shook her head, swallowing her sudden nervousness and trying her best to hold his eyes as he slowly stalked toward her. 

He came to stand a foot in front of her, close enough to make her feel small and vulnerable in front of him. “Well,” he began in his deepest, velvety voice, “are you going to make me undress you, myself?” 

Hermione’s eyes went wide. She shook her head, not trusting her voice, and pulled her blouse up over her head, baring her plain cotton bra to his scrutinizing gaze. He watched her with a curious intensity, his eyes on her chest. 

When she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the ground, her nipples hardened in the open air, despite the summer heat. Severus Snape was staring down at them, his expression oddly blank. Not knowing what else to do, she turned her attention to her jeans, slipping out of them awkwardly while he stood there watching. There was a mocking twist to his lips now, and that gave Hermione pause. 

Rather than slip out of her knickers, as she had been about to do, she stepped toward the man, closing the space between them and looking up into his piercing eyes. There was something like approval in the way he was studying her. It made her bold. She turned her gaze to the row of tidy, little buttons down the front of his shirt, and slowly lifted her hands to undo them. He made no move to stop her as, inch by inch, she revealed the bare skin of his pale torso. Fine black hair trailed down his sallow flesh; from his sternum, around his navel, and tapering into a line that disappeared beneath the waistband of his thick wool trousers. 

Trousers which, she suddenly noticed, were bulging quite a bit in the front. She inhaled sharply. It thrilled her to know that despite his calm facade, she had given the surly Potions master an obvious erection. He really was going to fuck her. 

His buttons undone, Hermione reached up to push his shirt off of his shoulders, but he stopped her, catching her wrists in his firm grasp and giving her the slightest shake of his head. Instead, he guided her hands around his neck. She laced her fingers together beneath the tickle of his silky black hair as he let his own hands glide down the lengths of her arms to brush the sides of her breasts, taking a moment to cup her softly. She didn't miss his shuddering breath as he kneaded her, giving her nipples a little pinch that sent a shock of pleasure through her. Then his hands descended to her waist and he gripped her gently, pulling her against himself so that her bare breasts were pressed against the tickly hair of his naked chest. 

He moaned. Her head was tucked beneath his chin and she could feel his heart beating in his chest. It was hard to believe she was here with her most aloof professor, their naked skin pressed together, the stiff length of his cock pressing hard against her abdomen. He cupped her arse to pull her harder against it, kneading her flesh as his other hand came up to tangle in her hair. 

She dared to imitate the gesture, pushing her fingers into the hair at the base of his scalp and gripping him gently. Hesitantly, she turned her face into his chest, inhaling the musky scent of his skin before opening her mouth against his sternum to taste his salty sweat with the tip of her tongue.

He let out an involuntary grunt, squeezing her arse and bucking gently against her. 

The movement wasn’t so gentle when he pulled her head back by the hair so that he could meet her gaze. His eyes were half-lidded and clouded with arousal; cold, assessing black. Somehow, she managed to be surprised when he bent to kiss her, holding her head still as he tasted her softly, then thrust his tongue into her mouth. She moaned in response and surprised them both by kissing him back just as wantonly. 

It should have been strange to rub tongues with her professor, but Hermione was beyond thought. A carnal need had overtaken her, and he seemed equally possessed. She rubbed herself against him the best she could at this angle, fisting his hair as he clutched at hers.

Suddenly, his hands dropped away and he stepped back to unbutton his trousers with practiced speed, releasing the enormous length of his visibly throbbing cock. He grabbed one of her hands and wrapped her fingers around himself. “You want that inside of you, do you?” he growled, showing her how to stroke him with her hand. 

“Yes,” she breathed. 

“How hard do you want me to fuck you?” 

Hermione gasped in shock, hearing those words in that familiar, deep voice. “ So hard.” 

“Oh, I intend to,” he murmured as he dropped her hand and met her mouth with his again. 

She was sure he could tell how inexperienced she was, but she tried her best to please him, stroking her hand up and down his length as she rubbed her tongue against his and moaned into his mouth. One of his hands found her breast and began to knead her, tweaking the bud of her nipple so that shocks of pleasure raced down her spine. 

His mouth broke away from hers as he bent to kiss her neck, hot breath fanning into her hair as his wet mouth met her tender skin. He nuzzled and nipped at the spot just beneath her ear in a teasing, savouring way. And when his hand dipped down into her knickers, she let out a moan, widening her stance to allow his beautiful fingers to find their way between her folds. He groaned into her ear when he felt how wet she was. 

“Is that for me?” he murmured in a low voice against her ear. “Did you work yourself up imagining your old professor bending you over his bed?”

Yes .”

He hummed in pleasure, those fingers stroking back and forth, making Hermione’s knees nearly buckle with need. Then he was sliding one digit inside. If it hadn’t been for his other arm holding her firmly in place, she would have sunk to the ground. She had never been so aroused. 

“Yes, oh yes! ” she whimpered. 

When he added a second digit, curving them in just the right way and stroking her at a merciless pace, she couldn’t help herself. Covering his hand with her own, she bucked against him a few times before crying out as she broke apart against him, waves of ecstasy reverberating all the way to her toes. 

He pulled away, staring down at her in disbelief, his mouth ajar. For a moment, she thought he would be angry that she had already come. But then he yanked away from her. “Lie down,” he growled in a hoarse voice, turning his attention to ridding himself of his thick trousers. 

Hermione pulled off her knickers and hurried onto the bed, stretching out in the center and watching in fascination as her professor stripped off his boots and trousers, his wide, eager eyes on her. She made no mention when he left his unbuttoned shirt on and climbed onto the bed, covering her body with his own. His mouth met hers again, and the pale, hairy skin of his chest was hot against her breasts. She moaned. 

He kissed her as if he might consume her that way, his hand kneading her breast, his knee pushing her legs apart so that he could settle against her. One hand reached down to rub the head of his cock between her folds and they moaned into each other’s mouths. She was so wet and he felt so good against her, his length as hard as stone. When he pushed inside of her, he gasped as if he were in pain. Gone was the careful Potions Master. All that was left was the man. 

When he began to thrust into her, his mouth froze against hers, open and wet. His attention was focused elsewhere. Hermione pulled him down to her, tangling her fingers in his greasy hair. He felt so good inside of her, so big and hard. And he was hitting her in just the right way. 

With one instinctive motion, she lifted her knees up to her chest. He growled like a primal beast, hammering into her and burying his face in the crook of her neck. She gasped, slipping a hand between their bodies to give the mounting pleasure inside of her the spark it needed to go over the edge. 

Soon, she was coming again, crying out in undainty ecstasy as he hammered into her. He pulled away far enough to stare down at her in greedy, gleaming lust as his mouth fell open and his thrusts became erratic. He froze above her with an agonized groan, squeezing his eyes shut as hot fluid filled her in several short bursts. He rocked against her a few more times before collapsing on top of her, panting hard. 

Their skin was slick with sweat, sticky where they pressed together. His coarse hair tickled the sensitive skin of her breasts. And his breath was hot against her neck and in her hair. 

For a long moment, both were still, sated, drained. Electric pleasure coursed up and down Hermione's arms and legs as her heartbeat finally began to calm. 

“Thanks,” she said in a breathless voice. 

His little huff of breath might have been a laugh. He didn’t meet her eye when he pulled himself off of her, using a sheet to clean himself up. He sat on his knees, looking unbelievably sexy in his dishevelled state, his usually pristine button-up nearly transparent with sweat and sticking to him where it wasn’t gaping open to reveal a dark trail of hair down the middle of his chest. 

“So,” she began, “if I find that I need another… dose of this. Do you think you, er…”

He choked out a laugh through his panting, his open mouth quirking up at the corner. “I might be amenable,” he said, finally meeting her gaze. Was that genuine mirth in his eyes?

“Good,” she said, nodding up at him, thrilling a bit at the way his eyes raked over her body. “And, you know… if you ever need me to return the favor…” she shrugged, grinning at him. 

He smirked down at her. “I might take you up on that.” 

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