Edification

Disclaimer: Severus Snape is the intellectual property of J K Rowling.

Thanks again to everyone who's encouraged me so much on this story!

Snape's anger was palpable, his voice barely coherent. "Teach me? Are you suggesting that we – have carnal connexion? Miss El-Panni, my time here has been useful, and I certainly do not wish to appear ungrateful, but we have only known each other for a few hours, and I must say that I consider it entirely inappropriate for you to make such a proposition..."

Hazel silenced him with a growl. "Severus, I'm being serious. This is as vital a part of the craft as reading the crystal or accuracy in the schemata. It's essential to some of the most important spells; anything connected with fertility, the growth and increase of plants and animals, would be virtually useless without this energy. I insist that I, at least, tell you about the theory of the rituals; a practical demonstration isn't essential, if you feel so strongly about the issue."

They scowled at each other, arms folded – Snape's breathing slowed from its peak of rage, his eyes noticing just how effectively Hazel's arms framed her – chest area... An unfamiliar word rose to the surface of his mind. "Schemata?"

"Gestures, postures, movements. The physical component of casting a spell." Hazel relaxed, and smiled a little. "Another subject that can be taught theoretically, but where practice is a far more effective method." Snape nodded, and allowed himself an inner smile. "Very true indeed. However, let us see how far theory can take us before we resort to anything – drastic."

Hazel shook her head, but kept her pleased expression. "As you wish. First, we must decide on a spell – one you're familiar with."

Snape searched his memory. There was such a spell, mentioned as "lost" or "ineffective" in the books; most fledgling wizards had tried it, but, at best, had only produced a small rosebush or one or two bean plants. He nodded. "I know of one. Let us continue."

Time passed. Snape, always a quick learner, had understood the basics of the technique, but shook his head in frustration, one aspect still eluding him. "Hazel, forgive me, but I still cannot visualise what you mean by 'the level of my arousal'. I have never been in the habit of analysing myself while I am," he coughed discreetly, "engaged in the act." Hazel said nothing, merely tilting her head to one side and smiling invitingly. Snape sighed. "It would appear – although, this will be entirely for my edification, not my enjoyment – that we must proceed to the practical aspects of the discipline."

***

A few minutes later, they were lying naked next to each other – Snape shivered apprehensively at the cool air on his skin and the damp grass at his back, his feelings more akin to his first day at McGonagall's Transfiguration class than to any romantic encounter. Hazel smiled across to him, admiring his body as if it were a marble sculpture rather than a living man - for the moment.

"That's good," she purred. "Now, remember the form of the ritual. First, relax, take complete control of your body, become at one with your environment, with the Nature that surrounds us now, our universal Mother..."

There was a brief retching sound from outside the tent. Hazel looked up, her face annoyed. "Arenoth, please. The traditional words are the most accurate, and this is a serious lesson for Severus. You're supposed to be keeping watch, not criticizing my language." The harreki removed his claw from his mouth, shrugged ostentatiously, and flew away out of sight.

"Anyway. You know what to do?"

Snape nodded, closing his eyes.

His first sensation was a light, warm touch against his right nipple, almost imperceptible – Hazel was breathing on it, her lips as close to his skin as possible without touching it. Snape let out a quiet noise of pleasure, almost a purr; then Hazel's lips were against his ear.

"Remember – observe it, control it, don't get lost..." She returned her mouth to his chest, extending her tongue. The wetness of its tip traced smooth circles around the dark-brown, ribbed skin surrounding Snape's nipples, making them stiffen and tense – a quick glance confirmed the rest of his body was following. Hazel took a deep breath, and closed her lips firmly around one firm nub, suckling on it, lapping at it with the full width of her tongue. She ran her fingers slowly across his chest, their hooftips cold and electrifying against his most sensitive nerve endings, tracing the line of his breastbone, working down inch by inch to find the smooth, barely visible hairs that surrounded his navel, lifting her hand so that only their extremities were touched.

She felt Snape moan with pleasure, and lifted her head. She whispered – "Open your eyes, stay focussed." He did so, his chest heaving, but his breathing still slow and regular. Hazel ran her head down the full length of his body, stroking his skin with the velvet fur of her cheek, until it joined her gently-massaging fingertips at his groin. She stretched out her tongue – Snape shuddered in desire at the sight of it, far longer and more muscular than any woman's – and curled it into a sheath, wrapping its length around his member, enveloping and caressing his arousal.

He whimpered, the blood pulsing wildly in his penis, but mentally held tight to his lust, keeping control as the witch had told him. Hazel took hold of his wrist, guiding his hand towards her body, resting it against her stomach; he let it stay there for a second, burying his fingers in her fur, then slid it downwards, slowly and carefully, passing through the coarsening pelt of her groin to probe and explore the sweet warmth between her thighs, the hot wetness of her vulva.

Hazel inhaled deeply as Snape's fingers touched her, the thrill of their pleasure spreading out into her whole body. "Yes, that's it. Use all of your senses – sight, touch, smell, taste..."

"Taste?" gasped Snape. Hazel grinned, and, removing his hand from the centre of her arousal, ran one finger across his lips. His body shuddered, the aroma of her juices bringing his passion to a new height, while his mind fought with the struggling spell, keeping it tethered – bound – to his penis, dragged along like Hypatia behind her chariot, forced towards its mortal orgasm. One more word escaped his lips – "Please?"

Hazel purred, deep and low within her body, and slid herself forward. Her lips opened to him, feeling every ridge and vein of his manhood as it entered her, probing and stretching her, its own wetness lost in the deep well of her sex. He bit his lip, hanging on to the cliff of release, his whole being suspended from a point tied to Hazel's vagina as it squeezed his cock, smooth as silk, and hot as a furnace – he started to thrust desperately against her, nearly losing control, nearly there, not able to hold on...

Hazel shouted "NOW!", pressing herself down onto Snape's penis, feeling it convulse and twitch against the firm grip of her cunt. With a moan that was just audible above the pounding of their hearts and bodies, Snape formed the word "Floreat", releasing the spell and his semen together.

A brilliant green light enveloped them, visible even through Snape's tightly-closed eyelids. The radiance expanded, its intensity diminishing to a barely perceptible haze in the air, then vanished with a brief, warm gust of wind.

What seemed like hours, but was, in fact – Arenoth checked his stopwatch – forty-seven seconds later, Snape gave a deep, contented sigh, and raised himself to his elbows. Hazel had dismounted, and was lying next to him, running her fingers gently over his head – he took her into his arms, planting one tender kiss on each nipple, feeling the softness and warmth of her fur against his cheeks, listening to her heartbeat as it slowed and quietened. "Hazel – that was..."

"Edifying?"

They both collapsed into laughter, Snape for the first time in many, many years. Recovering himself, he wiped the back of his hand across his brow. "The spell – did it work?"

Hazel drew the flap of the tent aside, and looked round the clearing. "I see nothing – but the spell didn't fail. As the source of your power is in your own world, that's probably where it took effect."

Snape nodded. "Ah, yes." There was a moment of silence. "Hazel, I..." He was unable to find the words he needed, but Hazel understood him – her eyes twinkled. "Perhaps the time has come for me to make my way home."

She helped him to his feet, and gave him one last kiss in the centre of his forehead. "Farewell, Severus Snape – until we meet again." Hazel watched until Snape had reached the edge of the clearing, and then shouted to him, "Severus!"

He turned back. "What is it?"

Hazel held up a greyish pair of pants. "Before you go – I think you should put your clothes back on."