A Wish Fulfilled

Chapter 3 ~ A Wish Fulfilled

Professor Snape began pacing in front of the classroom, as he always did when lecturing, and pretended to address a full class of students.

"Today's topic will cover the Amortentia Potion. This potion is..." he began.

Hermione began to wave her arm wildly. The Potions master paused, scowling at her.

"What is it, Miss Granger?" he asked.

Hermione put on her know-it-all face and said, "The Amortentia Potion is the most powerful love potion in the world. The exact ingredients have been hidden for the past fifty years because of abuses in the past."

Snape looked at her blackly.

"Miss Granger, would you like to give this lecture?" he asked her, a frown on his face.

"No, Professor," she replied, ducking her head.

The professor stalked toward her and gripped her desk, bringing his face close to hers.

"Then desist in flapping your arm around like it's boneless, and let me give the lecture!" he hissed. "Listening to a lecture requires you to open your ears and not your mouth, Miss Granger. Now be quiet!"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said meekly.

The Potions master drew back and began to pace again.

"Now, as I was saying," he intoned, "the Amortentia Potion is the most powerful love potion in the world. It is recognizable by..."

Hermione once again began to wave her hand wildly. Snape pretended to ignore her, but she kept it up until he turned on her, his brows furrowed and his nose flared.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" he said with an edge to his voice.

"The Amortentia Potion is recognizable by its distinctive Mother-of-Pearl sheen," she offered, smiling at him.

The Potions master closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in order to maintain his control. His eyes suddenly opened, and he glared at the witch.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger," he declared. "Now stop interrupting me!"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said, looking chastened.

The Potions master looked at her hard for a moment, sighed, and started giving the lecture again, this time standing right in front of her.

"Now, as I was saying before I was so idiotically interrupted, the Amortentia Potion is recognizable by its distinctive Mother-of-Pearl sheen, and also by the fact..."

Hermione had her hand up again. He ignored her as long as he could, but she was wriggling in her chair now and distracting the "other" students. He stopped.

"What is it now, Miss Granger?" he said tiredly.

"Spirals," she said softly.

The professor raised an irritated eyebrow at her.

"What?" he snapped.

"The steam of the Amortentia Potion always rises in spirals. That's a way to identify it," she informed him.

The Potions master slammed his hand hard on her desk, making the witch jump from the sheer violence of the impact. Again, he drew close to her, his eyes narrowed and his mouth turned down in a sneer.

"Miss Granger, what part of 'Do Not Interrupt Me' don't you understand?" he asked, his voice thick with anger. "Detention with Filch tomorrow night. Now shut up!"

"Yes, Professor," she replied in a small voice, sinking down in her chair a little.

Snape continued to scowl at her for several minutes before he remembered he was giving a lecture and started again.

"The Amortentia Potion is also recognizable by the fact that its steam rises in characteristic spirals," he began, when a voice piped out:

"And it smells differently to different people according to what attracts them."

It was Miss Granger again. And this time, she didn't even raise her hand, just rudely blurted out the information. The Potions master couldn't take any more. The young woman was unbearable. She didn't understand the meaning of the words 'shut up.' He had taken house points, given her detention, and she still didn't stop. Just like always. She accepted the point loss, served her detentions and didn't change one iota. She put him days behind schedule by disrupting his lectures. He did have a teaching plan to adhere to. He couldn't take it anymore.

"That's it! That's bloody it! Class is dismissed!" he bellowed. Then he looked down at Hermione, his face twisted with rage.

"All except for you, Miss Granger," he said in a soft but deadly voice. "You sit right there. We are going to settle this matter about you interrupting me in class once and for all."

"Yes, Professor," she said meekly.

Hermione felt soaked between her thighs. She was sure when she stood up there would be a puddle left behind on the wooden chair. The professor was acting toward her just like he would in class. He was quite a good role-player. She watched as he stormed past her and pretended to ward the classroom doors and then cast an actual Silencing Charm.

He stalked back past her, walking behind his desk and opening the top drawer.

"Come up here, Miss Granger, and turn around. Put your hands behind your back," he commanded, his voice harsh.

Hermione obediently rose from her chair. She glanced down.

She had left a wet spot.

Swallowing, she sidled between the rows, walked up to Snape's desk, and turned around, dutifully placing her hands behind her back. She heard the professor walk from around the desk and could feel him standing close behind her, breathing rather roughly. Suddenly, her hands were yanked together and bound tightly, but not too tightly. The Potions master made a big production of testing the ropes, making the witch feel rather helpless. He spun her around.

"Miss Granger, for the past seven years you have been a burrcockle in my ass when it comes to respecting me in my classroom. No other student dares to interrupt me during a lecture even once, but you . . . you do it several times and every single lecture, no matter how much I tell you to stop. If it weren't for your grades, Miss Granger, I would swear you were mentally challenged. As much as you ignore my constant reminders, I would think you deaf also.

"The fact is, Miss Granger, as brilliant as you are, you are thick. Despite detentions, despite losing house points, despite me verbally dressing you down, you continue to disrupt my class and ruin my lectures. So, Miss Granger . . ."

The professor sat on his desk and roughly pulled the witch over his lap.

"What are you doing, Professor?" Hermione cried, struggling a little. Her wriggling on his lap made the professor hiss a little.

"I can't seem to get through at one end, Miss Granger, so now I will attempt to make you understand via the other," he snarled.

Then he lifted the short shirt to reveal her buttocks.

The professor caught his breath as his black eyes fell on Hermione's smooth, plump ass. Her cheeks were full and well rounded, and she had two small dimples just above the swell. Snape wanted to press his lips to them. Her skin was fair, without any flaws. He picked up the paddle and bit his lip.

"Now, Miss Granger, you will not raise your hand while I am lecturing!"

THWACK!

He brought the paddle down on her right cheek.

"Merlin!" Hermione gasped, her head flying back.

Her right cheek turned a pretty shade of pale pink.

"You will not offer information while I am lecturing!"

THWACK!

The professor brought the paddle down on her left cheek, watching her soft flesh jiggle from the impact. It also turned pale pink.

"Oh gods, Professor!" she yelled.

"You will remain silent when I tell you to be quiet!" he breathed.

THWACK!

The professor brought the paddle down on her right cheek again, a little lower than the first time so he didn't hit the same area.

"Aaaah!" Hermione cried out, her hands straining against the ropes.

The professor could see her inner thighs starting to glisten with her juices. This really was turning her on, and as a result, turning him on as well. The scent of her lust was rising, and so was his throbbing cock.

"You will not correct me!" he snarled, bringing the paddle down on her left cheek again, alternating the location of the blow.

Hermione yelled again, her legs stretching out.

The Potions master began to spank her in earnest, alternating his blows from one side of her ass to the other, adjusting where each blow landed so as to spread the color evenly.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

Hermione was screaming his title now, bouncing on his lap, gasping, writhing, and straining beneath his blows. The way she was arching and groaning was erotic and arousing. It was almost as if the witch was getting fucked. She really did like the pain. Her ass was turning bright pink all over. It looked as if her ass were blushing.

Finally, her eyes full of tears, she gasped the safe word, and Snape ceased spanking her. She shuddered on his lap, her thighs soaked. He brought his hand to her bruised skin and began to caress it gently as she sobbed.

"Are you all right, Miss Granger?" he asked softly as he caressed her buttocks.

"Yes. I feel so hot, Professor," she gasped through her tears. "There's an ache between my legs, and my belly feels as if it's on fire."

The Potions master hesitated, then slipped his hand down to stroke her pussy lips slightly. She gasped and wriggled a bit. Slowly, he brought his wet fingers to his mouth and tasted her. Gods, so sweet. He returned his fingers to her pussy and worked one between her labia. He flicked it over her clit, and Hermione cried out.

"Wha . . . what was that? What did you do to me, Professor . . . Oh, gods, that felt so good," she gasped.

"I flicked my finger over your clit. It's very sensitive," he said, flicking it again as she gasped once more. He used his other hand to hold her in place and began to rub between her legs in earnest, coating his fingers with her wetness, as she writhed and kicked her legs, crying out in pleasure. She was a responsive little witch, and passionate.

"I want more," she breathed.

Snape felt around her hymen, then leaned forward to examine her pussy. Her hymen was slightly torn, probably by some physical activity. Carefully, he pressed a finger inside of her. Hermione was very, very tight, and she groaned and her ass bounced as he began to thrust his finger gently in and out of her. He didn't want to accidentally break her hymen completely. He wanted to do that with his cock.

"More," Hermione moaned.

Snape caressed her back gently as he cautiously slipped another finger inside her, wriggling it in her heat and softness, listening to her moan, and thinking how much he wished it was his cock inside her. He pulled his fingers out of the bucking witch and licked them clean slowly, savoring the taste of her. She continued to move, with more of a thrusting motion now. Professor Snape ran his hand over her reddened ass again, trying to soothe her.

"Professor," Hermione said, her voice throaty with desire. "I need you. I want you to do it now. I want you to fuck me, Professor. Please. I am burning up between my legs. I can't stop shaking,"

Professor Snape groaned.

"Miss Granger," he replied, hoarse with desire, "I don't want to deflower you like this. I know I do in your dream, and you love it, but I have more respect for you than that. Maybe afterwards, but not your first time. I want to take you to my bed. I want your first time to be memorable. I want you to remember me another way than in your dream. It will be good, I promise you. Better than what you think you want."

Hermione turned her head to look up at him as best she could. Her amber eyes were glazed with desire.

"At this point, Professor, you could take me on the Headmaster's desk with him present and I wouldn't care. As long as you can ease what I'm feeling."

Snape untied her hands and turned her over in his lap, pulling her to a sitting position. She gasped at the pain. Snape put her on the floor and stood up.

"I'm going to get you something for the pain, Miss Granger. Some healing potion. I don't want you suffering when I'm on top of you. Is that all right?" he asked her.

She nodded, lust gripping her body, wanting him so bad she wished he would just go ahead and bend her over something, anything, and slide inside her. That was the only thing that would satisfy her. He started walking toward the potions storeroom.

"Please hurry, Professor. I feel like I am going to explode," she called after him, a note of pleading in her voice.

The dark wizard did. He was in and out of the storeroom in a moment. He walked back to her with a bottle of healing potion.

"This is my own brew. Very powerful. It will heal you instantly," he said as he opened the bottle, poured some in his hand, and rubbed the potion over her buttocks gently.

"Your hands. They feel like they were dipped in lava and are leaving a burn on my skin," she groaned as he tenderly covered every inch of redness. Immediately, her flesh changed back to its smooth, fair color.

"Feel better?" he asked her, turning her around.

"My ass doesn't hurt anymore, but I have a kind of sweet ache all over me," she breathed. "I need you to do me, Professor. I need to feel you moving inside me."

"Let me give you your first adult kiss first," he said, lowering his mouth to hers.

He nibbled on her lips for a moment, then suckled them gently. Hermione wrapped her arms around his lean, strong body, feeling the definition through his nightshirt. He was so . . . male. The Potions master tapped against her lips with his tongue. She opened them slightly, and he slipped his tongue into her heat. Gods, she tasted like innocence. Hermione shuddered against him and entwined her tongue with his, welcoming his invasion enthusiastically. They dueled and devoured, Hermione being a fast learner, her body relaxing against his in abandon. The Potions master drew back.

"Come with me to my bedroom, Hermione," he said, using her given name. He was about to fuck her. That was enough intimacy to warrant the use of it.

"Yes, Professor," she said, arching into him.

"Right now, Hermione, you call me by my name. We will no longer be teacher and student. We will simply be man and woman. Call me Severus," he said gently.

Snape picked Hermione up and carried her though his office and back into his study, kissing her deeply all the while. The wall slid down behind them as they passed. He didn't hesitate. He headed straight for his bedroom.

It was time for Hermione to unwrap her present.

***********************************

The professor carried the breathless, excited witch into his bedroom and gently set her down on the floor. She instantly latched onto the Potions master, her need and desire taking over. She reached up, locked her arms around his neck, and pulled his mouth down to hers, pushing her tongue between his lips, molding her curves to his body, and rubbing herself instinctively against his erection. Snape reveled in her fervor for a moment, glad he had taken the potions. The friction of her body rubbing against his cock was just too good. He would have come for sure. The young witch was so ready to be taken. She couldn't fight all the luscious feelings pulsing through her, so abandoned herself to them.

"Gods . . . is this what it's like to want a man to fuck you? How do you fight this?" she breathed up at him. Snape smirked as he rubbed her lower back through her shirt.

"You're not supposed to fight it in situations like this, Hermione. The more you surrender yourself to the feelings, the better the act is when it occurs . . . although there is something to be said for holding back until the breaking point," he said, pulling back from her. His black eyes met her amber ones.

"I'm going to undress you now," Snape said softly.

Since she was new at this, he decided he would guide her through this, let her know what he intended to do to her before actually doing it. She was very willing and probably would just accept whatever he did, but the teacher in him was coming to the fore. She said she wanted to be taught.

"All right, Professor," she said, stepping back and flushing a little.

"Call me Severus, Hermione," he breathed as he pulled the ridiculous elf hat off her head and threw it on the floor.

"Severus," she said, sending a chill through him.

The professor loosened the wide belt and removed it, catching the bottom of her shirt in both his hands.

"Raise your arms," he said, pulling the shirt up.

Hermione obliged, and he slipped the shirt off of her and dropped it to the floor. Then he kneeled and took off the curly-toed elf shoes. Hermione balanced herself by holding his shoulder, lifting one foot, then the other. He tossed the shoes behind him.

Snape stepped back to look at her body. Her breasts were large, with dark areolas, her nipples puckered with desire. Her belly was flat, the muscles well defined. Her hips flared out nicely from her waist, and a perfect chestnut bush graced the vee between her thighs, which were a little thick. Despite her short stature, her legs were long. Snape gazed at her through his lashes. He thought he had never seen a body more perfect.

"You are beautiful, so, so beautiful," he said hoarsely.

His black eyes reflected the hunger burning inside him as he looked at the witch.

"I want to see you," Hermione whispered, her amber eyes focused on his nightshirt as if she could see his body through it.

Snape removed his nightcap, caught the bottom of the shirt, and pulled it over his head. He stood before her naked, watching her reaction as her eyes swept over his chest, belly and cock. It was the first time she had ever seen a man's organ in the flesh.

The witch's eyes widened.

"Is it supposed to be that big?" she asked him, looking extremely nervous. "That's really big, Prof . . . Severus. I don't know if it will fit."

The professor looked down at his erection. His cock was swollen, pulsing veins lacing the wide shaft, the head mushroomed and dark with blood. He imagined it looked quite daunting to an eighteen-year-old virgin, especially of her stature. It would have looked daunting to an experienced woman. He looked up at the witch, whose eyes were locked on his cock in fascination. It bounced, and Hermione gasped.

"Why did it do that?" she asked him.

"Because you are exciting me by the way you are looking at it," he replied. He stroked his cock gently, and Hermione was hypnotized watching his hand slide over it.

"Can I touch it?" she asked him, her hand already stretching out.

Could she touch his cock? Gods, yes.

"Yes," he said, thrusting his hips forward a little.

Hermione slipped her hand beneath his shaft and hefted it experimentally in her palm. Snape bit back a groan as her hand came in contact with him. She then curled her fingers around his pulsing member.

"It's heavy," she commented, "and hot. Hard. It feels like an iron pole covered with warm silk."

Hermione held very still a moment.

"It has a pulse, too."

Snape watched as the witch knelt to look at his cock more closely. As she grasped his cock with one hand, her other hand rose and touched his scrotum. He hissed as she felt his balls gingerly, her thumb and fingers rolling them about and tracing the round outlines, caressing them in the process of her examination.

"These are delicate. I guess that's where you aim when you kick a man," she observed.

The professor winced a little at her comment.

"Hopefully you don't plan on kicking me, Hermione," he said tightly, leaning his head back and closing his eyes in pleasure. She was moving her fist back and forth over his cock slowly and looking up at him.

"No, I don't," she replied, studying the expression of bliss on his face as she ran her hand up and down his shaft. "This feels good to you, doesn't it?"

"Yes. The touch of a woman's hand on a man's cock is very pleasurable," he half-groaned at her. A quick study, Hermione began to move her hand faster, making the Potions master gasp repeatedly. She felt a jolt pass through her body as his head snapped back up, and he looked down at her, his black eyes so full of need it made her heart hurt. She stopped her motion, and he groaned, still looking down at her.

Keeping her eyes locked on his, Hermione leaned forward a little more and kissed the tip of the swollen head. A bit of pre-cum wet her lips, and she tasted it experimentally, her pink tongue flicking out and drawing it in.

She looked thoughtful, then smirked at him. The professor groaned when her soft lips connected with his cock and he saw the beautiful young witch taste his fluids and not be turned off by it.

"Gods, Hermione," he whispered as she opened her mouth wide and slid it over the head of his cock, tightening her lips around it, engulfing it in heat.

His mouth dropped open slackly as she sucked on him gently, not knowing she should move. He brought his hand to her head and caressed her hair for a moment before he slowly pushed her head forward, sliding his cock deeper into her mouth, then pulling back. The feel of her mouth sliding over him sent ripples of pleasure shooting up his shaft to his balls, and he shuddered, grunting. Hermione saw his reaction and understood what she needed to do.

She began to rock, moving her mouth back and forth over his cock, sucking gently, making Snape groan in delight. The heat in Hermione's belly intensified and sweetened as she realized how good she was making her Potions master feel. It made her feel she had some power, some control over him as well, even though she didn't know very much about sex. She looked up at him, her amber eyes heating up as he looked down at her, his face contorting as his eyes met hers. She was so beautiful, so innocent, and trying so hard to learn what pleased him. He thrust into her mouth gently. She was new to this, and he didn't want to gag her, though the gods knew he wanted to plunge deeper. But he'd soon get deep enough in her when he fucked her. She began to bob faster, her fist also moving up and down his shaft.

"Shit," he breathed, fighting to keep from fisting his hands in her hair and pulling her forward harder. Finally, he pulled away, gasping, his chest rising and falling.

"What? Did I do something wrong?" she asked him, her full lips glistening, as was the head of his cock.

"No, sweet. You did everything right," the professor said, pulling her upward and pressing her into him, running one hand through her hair and the other over her ass, grinding his cock against her until she moaned.

"Why did you stop me then? I was just learning what to do . . ." she complained as she moved against him..

"I stopped you, Hermione, because I don't think you're ready for that yet. Normally, when a woman performs fellatio on a man, she is expected to go the distance, to swallow his emissions when he comes. You're not ready for that yet," Snape said softly. "We need to go slow, my little virgin. One thing at a time."

Hermione started to protest, when he captured her mouth and kissed her, swirling his tongue inside her heat, ending her attempts at talking. He backed her toward the bed slowly as he explored her mouth and body. The edge of the bed hit the back of her legs. Hermione's eyes widened, and she pulled away from his mouth, panting.

"Now?" she breathed up at him, pressing her pelvis against him anxiously.

"No, not quite yet, Hermione. There is something else I want to show you first. Other ways of getting pleasure," the Potions master said, pushing her back onto the bed and following her down.

Hermione shifted herself so she was lying correctly on the bed, and the Potions master rolled on top of her. The feel of his hard body on hers made the heat in her belly break out into a roaring fire, and she arched her hips up against him wantonly. He began kissing her again, and Hermione's hands went to his back. She paused when she felt the many stripes and raised welts on his skin.

The professor felt her stiffen and stopped kissing her, looking down and seeing her eyes filled with tears.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" he asked her softly, afraid he had done something wrong somehow.

"Your back. Voldemort did that to you. It must have been so horrible," she said, her heart swelling with sympathy for the wizard on top of her. He had suffered so much.

"Shhh," Snape said. "I earned those stripes in my service, Hermione. I knew what I was facing. I know what to expect every time I return to him. Don't cry. With you I can forget my pain. You will help me forget everything for a time. Now, shhh. Don't cry."

He began kissing her again, moving his body against her sensually as he did so. Soon her sniffling ceased, and she responded, losing herself in his tender, hungry possession of her mouth. Was this the real man behind the dour, sarcastic bastard she had known all her years as a student? She would have never imagined him to be so gentle and so good.

The feel of her soft body under his had the professor going. It would be so easy to just let go and fuck her. But this was his gift too. He wanted to taste every inch of her. He stopped kissing her.

"I want you to relax and just feel, Hermione," he said. "You can touch me any way you like. Don't be afraid to do so. Your touch feels very good."

He lowered his mouth to her throat, and Hermione groaned as he ran his tongue over it, then bit her lightly.

"That feels so good," she whispered, her hands sliding over his lower back and buttocks, feeling his musculature beneath her palms.

The professor didn't respond as he caressed her sides, moving his mouth over her shoulders and collarbone, kissing, licking, and nibbling her. Hermione was one big burning body of desire. Every place his lips touched ignited. He moved over the swell of her breast and grasped one gently in his hand, massaging it, enjoying the fullness of her firm mound. Hermione groaned, arching up, wanting more. Then his mouth met her breast, and she whimpered as he swirled his tongue over her sensitive nipple and suckled her, letting his teeth scrape against the hard peak over and over. Sensation shot down Hermione's body to pool in the soft, aching flesh between her thighs, and she bucked up against him as he changed breasts and laved his attentions equally on the other.

"Severussssss," she hissed, his name sounding like a prayer on her lips.

The Potions master groaned and slid his mouth lower, over her belly, working his way down, both his hands locked on her breasts, squeezing, massaging, tweaking, driving the young witch wild with his mouth and his hands. Snape slid lower, blowing his warm breath on her pubic hair. Hermione lifted her head and looked at him, her eyes hot and confused.

"What are you doing?" she breathed, her breasts heaving with unspent need. The ache between her legs was driving her wild, and seeing him so close to her center made all her senses spin.

"I'm going to pleasure you with my mouth. I have to hold you down," he said, sliding lower. His black eyes rested on her sex. It was wet with her juices, pearls of liquid glistening in her pubic hairs.

"Why?" she gasped as he blew on her lower lips.

"You'll see," he growled, lowering his head between her legs and wrapping his arms around her thighs as he slid his tongue between her labia and licked her clit. Hermione squealed and thrust her hips upward.

"Oh shit!" she cried, twisting as the Potions master began to eat her out, lapping up her juices and nibbling on her tender pink flesh as if dining on the most succulent feast.

Hermione cried out, twisting wildly in his arms as his hot muscle laved her. It was too much sensation. He was at the center of her ache, his soft mouth increasing the heat rather than soothing it. Suddenly, Hermione shrieked as Snape thrust the tip of his tongue inside her, easing it through the slight opening of her torn maidenhead, feeling her tightness pulsing around him as she struggled to lift herself up and out of his reach.

"It's too much!" she cried out, tears in her eyes as the intense sensation washed over her. The Potions master had no mercy. He wanted to show her the ultimate ending of his ministrations. He continued to thrust the tip of his tongue into her, rubbing his nose against her clit, causing the witch to writhe and twist even more, her hands now tangled in his hair as she pushed at him. There was something happening inside her. Something uncontrollable, something unbearably sweet rising in her, and she arched her back, her toes curling under, her entire body pulling in on itself, centered below her navel, coiling inward to a single tight point of being. Her face contorted, sweat pouring off her brow as the professor licked and probed her, pulling her need downward, his whirling tongue the burning fuse igniting her. Suddenly Hermione arched, then exploded, shaking and screaming, as unbelievable bliss crashed over her, a huge wave of heat and pleasure rolling through her core, flinging her out of her body into someplace she never knew existed but had always, always wanted to arrive at.

The professor held Hermione tightly as she came, his tongue tip still inside her, sandwiched between her pulsating walls. He licked at the honey she released, groaning with pleasure at the taste of it. Withdrawing his tongue, Snape began gently sucking at her opening, drawing out her luscious fluids and swallowing them down, thirsty for every delicious drop of the first orgasm he gave her, her waning cries falling like a beautiful symphony on his ears.

Hermione felt herself drifting gently back to earth, the Potions master moving away from her center, kissing and licking her inner thighs tenderly before slowly pulling himself back up her body and kissing her softly, sharing her own taste with her as she quivered under his body.

He smoothed her damp hair away from her face and looked down into her amber eyes, which were full of wonder as she looked back at him. She was still panting. He felt a strong sense of accomplishment bringing her to her first true orgasm. But that wasn't all he felt. His cock throbbed, the blood vessels swollen to full capacity, wanting its turn. He wanted to be inside her now, riding her body to ecstasy. He whispered an incantation.

Hermione felt a tickling sensation inside her and writhed.

"What did you do, Severus?" she asked him softly, the sound of his given name sounding strange coming from her lips.

"A contraceptive spell," he replied, kissing her damp forehead and shifting slightly.

***********************

"Open your legs, Hermione," Snape said. He felt her trembling increase under him as she obeyed, and his body settled between her thighs. She looked a bit afraid.

"You're so big, Severus," she said softly, her eyes round.

For a moment, she looked like a frightened child. Snape smoothed her hair again, his black eyes full of desire, but kind as he looked down at her.

"Don't worry. You'll adjust to my size. I'll go slow," he said, trying to reassure her.

She bit her lip, uncertainty in her eyes. She looked so innocent, so delicious. Severus moved up, resting the length of his cock against her sex. He began to kiss her again, moving his body against hers, rubbing his shaft back and forth against her pussy, stimulating her clit, arousing her. Hermione moved her hips, pressing against him, his hardness feeling so good against her. She began to moan with pleasure. The Potions master was gasping into her mouth, her wetness making his cock slick as he humped against her, trying to make her so hot she'd break and ask him to enter her.

Hermione's hands clutched at the Potions master's back, and she could feel his muscles flexing beneath her palms as he slid against her body hungrily. He felt so strong, so powerful. A low groan issued from the back of his throat as he ground his cock against her. The witch knew he desperately wanted to be inside her. The ache returned full force this time, pulsing deep inside her, too deep to be eased by what they were doing now. She needed him. She didn't care how big he was. Her need was overpowering her fear.

"Now," she whispered. "Please. I ache inside."

The Potions master stopped moving, his entire body tightening up against her. He looked down at her.

"Are you sure you're ready?" he asked, knowing she was. Her pussy was soaking wet, and her body burning up and quivering with need.

"Yes. I need you, Severus," she said. "Please."

The Potions master shuddered at the need in her voice and the hunger in her eyes. He shifted and reached down between their bodies, positioning his large head against her entrance. He hesitated a moment as he looked at the size of his cock compared to her petite body, but only for a moment. She bucked against him, feeling his hardness against her, poised for entry.

"There's going to be some pressure, Hermione. I'm going to stretch you. I have to push," he said, "but you'll be able to accommodate me."

"I know. Please. Just do it," Hermione moaned, arching against him urgently.

Snape looked down at Hermione. This was the moment, then. What he was about to do was irreversible.

"Do you want me to distract you from the pain?" he asked her softly. "I could bite your ear lightly when I deflower you."

Hermione looked up at the wizard who was about to make her a woman. Concern had softened his features. She felt a pulse of intense desire deep inside of her. She wanted to experience him. All of him. Even the pain of receiving him.

"No. I want to feel it when I lose my virginity," she whispered up at him. She was a Gryffindor to the core. "I want to feel you."

The Potions master took a last look at the face of innocence; then he placed her legs on his shoulders and raised himself on his arms, her body folded under him, her thighs spread wide. He would be able to thrust into her quickly and deeply this way, breaking her hymen smoothly.

"You have to place me at your entrance, Hermione," he breathed.

Hermione reached down and grasped his cock, sliding his head against her and gasping until she felt him nestled in the depression that would allow him full access to her. He groaned at the heat around his head.

"Put your arms around my neck and hold me tightly," Snape said, his dark eyes fixed on her face.

Hermione obeyed him, locking her arms around his neck. Her eyes swept down his taut body to where his thick cock was poised against her. This was it. He was going to do what she had asked of him.

Snape took a deep breath, then plunged inside the witch, ripping through her hymen and burying his cock deep into her tight, wet sleeve with a hiss of pleasure.

Hermione screamed and arched upward as he broke the remainder of her maidenhead and came to rest deep inside her, his cock filling her completely. Tears filled her eyes and rolled down the sides of her face as she panted in response to the pain. The professor held very still.

"That hurt," she gasped.

"Yes," he agreed, "but now it will get better."

He gently pulled back, then thrust into her again, hitting bottom lightly. Hermione groaned. He drove right into the ache, and it was indescribable. The professor lifted his hips again and drove back inside her. She felt wonderful. Soft, tight, and wet around his pulsing shaft. Gods, it had been too long since he had this kind of pleasure. He watched her face carefully for any signs of pain as he began to fuck her, slowly at first, biting his lip as he rode her body gently, listening to the increasing volume of her cries of pleasure as he met her need.

Snape was in heaven as he slid in and out of the witch, drinking in her every cry, every gasp, every whispered curse and blessing that passed her lips as he slid his length and girth in and out of her delicious body. His black eyes took in and memorized every beautifully contorted expression of pleasure that flashed across her face. She was a beautiful, passionate young woman, and right now, she belonged totally to him. He was determined she would not regret choosing him to be her first, nor forget the gift they shared this Christmas morning.

Hermione looked up at the Potions master, a soft lust burning in her amber eyes, thinking he was the most beautiful, passionate man in the world as he buried himself between her thighs again and again, his face locked in a mixed expression of delight and concentration, her juices gushing around his cock, bathing him in warmth and wetness. He shifted his hips, entering her tenderly at differing angles and she cried out his name like a mantra, her hands pressing against his chest hard and rhythmically with every delicious penetration of her body. She was lost beneath his gaze, his stroke, his flexing body. Her instincts had been right. He was the man to do this for her, to make her first experience one to be remembered.

Severus slowed his stroke, and Hermione arched against him, trying to make him increase his speed.

The Potions master slipped her legs off his shoulders and lowered himself, kissing her deeply, stroking into her body slowly, giving the witch a deep double kiss. Hermione moaned into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck and lifting her hips to meet him. He took it slow and easy, tasting her and fucking her leisurely, savoring the beautiful witch. Then the Potions master stopped moving completely, releasing her mouth. Hermione gave a little cry of disappointment and thrust her hips forward, trying to impale herself on him. He looked down at her, a smirk on his face because of her need for him. Hermione was so, so good for his ego.

"Do you want to try another position?" he asked her.

"I'll try anything if you'll just keep going," she said, squirming beneath him.

The Potions master rolled off her and rose to his knees, easing down toward the bottom of bed. He looked down at his cock, his shaft and head streaked with the blood of her maidenhead, the undeniable proof of her total deflowerment. She was a woman now. His nostrils flared.

"Get on your hands and knees," the Potions master said, a slight growl in his voice.

His black eyes glittered at her hotly. This was his favorite position. Hermione's belly flipped at the command in his voice. She rolled over, rose to her hands and knees, and felt him widen her legs and move between them, his hands caressing her back soothingly.

"This time, Hermione, I will be a little more . . . intense," the Potions master said, smoothing his hand over her round buttocks gently. "This is my favorite position. If I begin to hurt you, tell me and I'll stop. Understand?"

"Yes," Hermione said, torn between desire and trepidation.

Snape positioned himself at her entrance and slid inside her, filling her in one smooth stroke, groaning as her tightness surrounded him. Hermione gasped at how deep he felt. Snape pulled back and drove into her with a bit of force that made her cry out when he hit bottom. It stung, but it felt right. The Potions master hesitated.

"Too hard?" he asked her, hoping it wasn't. She was able to take that spanking. He was hoping she could handle him fucking her harder.

"No," she said. "It stung, but it felt good."

She liked it. Good. The Potions master gripped her waist and drove into her deeply again. She cried out and humped back against him for more. The Potions master growled and started thrusting into her quickly, driving through her tightness, her hot wet walls gripping, caressing, and pulling on his shaft. He threw his head back, his eyes rolling up with pleasure as he banged against her cervix with force.

"Dear Gods, you are delicious, Hermione," he groaned as he started to pull her back to meet his thrusts, burying his cock even deeper into the young witch.

Hermione had given herself over to the professor's strength, loving the pounding ache at the end of every penetration as he jerked her roughly over him, fucking her with abandon now, his huge cock buried in her to the hilt, his pelvis slapping against her loudly. A growing sweetness followed his pain, blossoming like a flower of bliss in the depths of her belly, petals of pleasure spreading to every limb of her body. There was a nectar in the midst of this, bubbling, rising, ready to spill over.

The professor felt the witch beginning to tighten around him and lost all control, pounding into her now, unable to stop as his balls began to pull in upon themselves, announcing his impending release. Hermione was screaming something unintelligible, and somewhere behind his haze of lust the professor prayed it wasn't 'stop' because he was too far gone. He wrapped an arm around her waist and bent over her body, his chin resting on her shoulder, trapping her small body against him and driving into her sweetness for all he was worth. Every inch of his cock was buried inside her, plowing into her depths like a piston on overdrive.

Hermione was screaming, but it wasn't stop. It was something guttural, feral, and animal the wizard was driving out of her very soul, his physical possession transcending her body, his flesh, his abandon, and his passion transforming what was utter pain to exquisite ecstasy, drawing her up and outside of herself. She was beyond screaming, she was speaking the language of met desire, voicing the age-old tongue of union and impending release, her pussy bearing down on his hardness, sucking him in, then exploding around him in a torrent of hot, flowing bliss, shuddering, her senses whirling so wildly it felt as if the world itself were thrown out of orbit, and all she had to hold onto was the wizard coming with her. For Snape had felt her clutch, and when the wash of heat poured over him, he let go with a howl, his release surging through him powerfully, wracking his body with tremors as he slammed his cock inside Hermione as deep as he could go. He clasped her tightly to him and poured his seed into her pulsing orifice, filling her with gush after gush of come as he, too, whirled away into shuddering bliss, clinging to her body as if he feared he would break loose and fly away.

Gasping, both witch and wizard collapsed together, Hermione dropping to the bed, Snape falling right on top of her back, his cock still embedded inside her warmth, softening in her pulsing sleeve. He fought to place his weight on his elbows, dizzy and spent, dimly aware of the soft body beneath him.

As his head cleared, he brushed Hermione's tangled hair aside and began pressing kisses to the witch's neck and shoulders, thanking her between them as she purred like a kitten, her eyes closed, a tired smile on her face, utterly exhausted but listening. After a few minutes, Snape slid out of her body gently and rolled off her, lying on his back, his face turned toward hers. Hermione half opened her eyes. She seemed even more beautiful with the glow of satisfaction radiating from her amber orbs.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione," he said softly.

"I don't think I'll ever know a happier one," she whispered back, closing her eyes.

************************************

Snape and Hermione dozed for an hour or so. Snape awoke first and looked at the time. It was almost dawn, and Hermione had to get back to Gryffindor tower before sun-up. She was curled against him, her hair flung over her face. He gently pulled her chestnut locks away and looked down at her sleeping profile. Hermione might believe what they had shared was her gift, but the Potions master was very much aware that she had gifted him with something very precious. Something he would remember for the rest of his days. It wasn't every day a brilliant, beautiful virgin made a wish that a snarky, sarcastic bastard of a Potions master twice her age would deflower her. He was more thankful than she could ever know.

He leaned over her, placing his mouth close to her ear.

"Hermione. Hermione, wake up. It is morning. You must get back to Gryffindor Tower," he said softly. The witch opened her eyes and turned toward him, smiling. Her smile faded when she saw the sober look on his face.

"You must return to your house, Hermione," he said.

The professor rolled out of the bed and Scourgified her, then himself. He then pulled on his nightshirt and transformed the elf shirt into a robe for her.

Hermione rose out of the bed. Snape's black eyes were locked on her body as he held the robe open for her to slip her arms into. He was trying to memorize every inch of her. Silently, Hermione slipped her arms into the sleeves, then buttoned up her robes.

Snape walked out into the study, followed by the silent witch. He knew he should say something, but he didn't know what to say. He walked to the Floo, and Hermione joined him there. The professor lit a fire, reached into the box on the mantle, grabbed a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the flames. They turned green just as he expected they would. Hermione had received her gift. She was free to go now.

"This will take you directly to your room," Snape said to her, his black eyes resting on her face.

"Thank you, Professor," she said, turning to enter the Floo. Her use of his title displeased him a bit, although they were not intimate now. It was probably best she return to it, but it still irked him.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," he said, using her formal name as well. He saw a flicker of something in her eyes when he said it, but it passed too quickly for him to identify.

Hermione started to enter the Floo, but stopped and turned to him.

"Did it mean anything to you at all, Professor?" she asked him, her amber eyes dark.

Did it mean anything? Of course it meant something.

"Yes, Miss Granger. What you gave me meant . . . means very much to me. In one night you gave me more pleasure, joy and happiness than I have experienced in many, many years. I am grateful to you," he said sincerely.

She looked at him.

"If . . . if . . . I were to come back to you . . . would you accept me? Could we do this again?" she asked him.

This was the reason the Potions master had been so sober. The question of continuing with the beautiful witch.

"I'm afraid not, Miss Granger. And it isn't because I wouldn't love to have you in my bed again. I would. You are a jewel and will probably haunt my dreams from now until I leave this earth. But as long as I serve the Dark Lord, I cannot risk you being discovered. Voldemort would kill us both. I do not participate in the Dark Revels because I am supposed to be impotent. As you know, I am not. Coupled with you having Muggle parents, that would be enough for him to murder us both. I am not afraid of death, Miss Granger, but I wouldn't have you taken from the wizarding world because of me. You have a brilliant life ahead of you. So you see, as long as I am serving Voldemort, I have to be alone," Snape said, truly sorry to have to tell her this.

Hermione looked at him. She could tell that he was telling her the truth of his situation. He was right too. She would be a danger to him. She knew he was a spy, and if Voldemort got hold of her, he would most likely be exposed.

"If you didn't have to serve Voldemort . . . would you accept me then?" she asked him.

He looked down at the beautiful, young witch who had just given him the sweetest gift he had ever received in his life and sighed deeply.

"I would most definitely accept you, Miss Granger. Into my bed, and if you were inclined, into my heart. When you leave here, my world will be much darker than before you came to me. But this is how my life is, Miss Granger. With Voldemort alive, I must live a life of loneliness. I'm sorry," he said. He wanted to embrace her, to feel her body pressed against his one more time, but denied himself. It was better to make a clean break.

"I'm sorry too, Professor. I would have been so inclined," Hermione said softly. She turned to the Floo and said, "My room in Gryffindor Tower," then stepped through the flames and disappeared.

Snape stared after her. She had practically said she would have accepted him as her lover if things were different. Maybe even more than a lover. But that was something that would never happen.

Snape stood before the Floo a moment, then slammed his fist violently against the wooden mantelpiece, almost upsetting the box of Floo powder. He drew several breaths to calm himself. Raging about what could have been would not help things.

He turned to walk back to his bedroom, planning on wrapping himself in the sheets. They would still smell of the witch. As he headed for his room, he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw what looked like a newspaper, wrapped with a large red bow, sitting on his writing desk.

A newspaper? What kind of lousy gift was that?

Curiously, he walked over to the desk. It was a newspaper all right. A folded copy of the Daily Prophet. There was a tag on it. He read it.

To Professor Severus Snape. Happy Christmas. F.C.

Snape scowled. If this was Father Christmas' idea of a decent gift, he needed to retire. He started to walk away, but felt compelled to look at the newspaper. He pulled the bow off and opened it to the front page. He looked at it, his eyebrows raised. Then his eyes went wide as saucers as he reread the headline:

LORD VOLDEMORT IS DEAD!

Dark Lord Chokes to Death on Pheasant Bone at Annual Christmas Feast

Snape read the article. It seemed the Dark Lord was talking with his mouth full, and a pheasant bone somehow got lodged in his throat. No one was able to save him.

Snape doubted if anyone had really tried.

For the first time in many, many, many years, Severus Snape smiled. A broad, heartfelt smile that felt as if it would never, ever leave his face. It was a miracle . . . it was an answered prayer . . . it was . . .

Snape paused.

He remembered yesterday afternoon when he was forced to face Father Christmas. The man had said to him, "Surely there is something you want." And his first thought was to be free of Voldemort. He hadn't said it out loud, but it was his deepest wish.

The Potions master read the headline again. His next thought was of Hermione, and the smile returned.

He found he didn't care who saw it.

"Thank you, Father Christmas," he said under his breath.

The wizard walked quickly to the Floo, still dressed in his nightshirt. The flickering flames had remained green. That was a bit odd. Usually they returned to regular flame after someone stepped through to their destination. He didn't notice the oddity.

He stood in front of the Floo.

"Hermione Granger's room," he said.

And stepped through.

THE END