
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4969459.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Hermione_Granger/Severus_Snape
  Character:
      Severus_Snape, Hermione_Granger, Ron_Weasley, Harry_Potter, Ginny
      Weasley, Albus_Dumbledore
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-10-10 Updated: 2015-10-24 Chapters: 3/? Words: 3003
****** Salt Tears ******
by Macarbre
Summary
     Snape is trying will all he can, to keep him stone wall front in tact
     as Hermione proceeds to bring it down.
Notes
     New chapter weekly.
***** Practical *****
The insolence made his upper lip curl and no one hated dishonesty as much as
Snape, though his whole life a lie, he refused to accept it. The three 7th year
students whom he had somewhat grown to tolerate were stood in front of him once
again like the cretinous 1st years they once were.
“Empty your pockets.” Snape’s voice rumbled with each consonant clearer than
the previous. “Now what would one need Fluxweed for, I wonder?” He snatched the
specimen which lay in Harry’s now rather manly hand. Snape’s tight sleeves took
up half his hand yet was still big enough to hold the entirety on the uncovered
part of what required all of Harry’s hand.
“Surely after your first incident you would have come up with a better
solution,” He gazed at Hermione whose head had her eyes fixated on the dark
stone floor.
“With such a bright witch to hand also, I’m surprised you resorted to such
feeble magic.” Hermione’s head rose with uncertainty whether or not to be
grateful of the compliment or ashamed of the truth behind it. She had truly
become what most called her ‘the brightest witch of her time’ but was held back
by the less capable Ron and Harry.
“I doubt also, you are now partial to the odd hairball?” His tone was sarcastic
and humorous but his face displayed no further emotion than the usual dismay.
How the hell did he know about that she thought to herself, though impressed he
was able to crack a joke even if it was in his way.
“What now Sir, detention?” Ron’s word showed his impatience and clear
impertinence. Snape’s eyes flung from Hermione to burn into Ron’s. He folded
his arms over his chest which was encased in a very tight black shirt.
“Luckily,Mr Weasley I couldn’t care less of what you do in your spare time,
although would appreciate it if my potion ingredients would not fall into play.
Also, considering the use was of such an insignificant force I am not concerned
just insulted that my teaching has clearly been wasted, now leave.”
The three ran to the door, again alike little children.
Hermione was not relieved like the others she was embarrassed and dishevelled
that Snape whose intelligence she truly admired thought her as an equal to Ron
and Harry, as if there capabilities matched. She didn’t want him to think ill
of her, she wished she could prove him wrong. Of course however Snape was a
cold hard man whose opinion was set in stone. She, in frustration, cried.
———————————————————————————————————————————
Hermione had refused to tell anyone but of late but she had been having panic
attacks, ones which yes magic could erase but she wanted to defeat the stress
herself. Being the brightest witch if her age had immediate expectations.
“Hermione are you okay?” Ginny could sense something up, but she just shrugged
her off and smiled to create the pretence of ‘fine’. Snape noticed this and
began to question how she was feeling he hoped it had nothing to do with the
past evening. His stomach tumbled and he was taken a back, was he feeling
regret? Surely not a great wizard such as himself has neither the capacity or
need to do so.
However Hermione sat at her desk with her hands on either side of her face as
her elbows lent on the table to support her obviously weary and overfilled
head. He noticed how her usual spark and glimmer in her hazel eyes ,which
endeared him and caught his attention as all other eyes glazed over as he
explained the art of potion making, had gone and she joined the other attention
less zombies which graced his presence. He contrary to what he said the
previous night was concerned.
He continued his lesson, allowing the practical to begin. He usually hated
this, watching the dimwits attempt to succeed, but this moment allowed him to
observe Hermione without being noticed. He could see her frustration mounting
which was odd as her disposition;in his eyes; was that of a calm and collected
one. He was also confused as to why such a bright witch as she was couldn't do
this remedial task.
Her breathing became heavy, her stomach tensed and her hands began to shake
uncontrollably to the point the jar of Bezoar dropped out of her hands.He
immediately, with one rounded pace arrived at her desk, his cape following
shortly afterward gathering perfectly round him.She looked up at him unsure of
whether he was aware of what was happening.
Snape’s heart was beating equally as fast as hers and he grabbed her by the
hand gently but hard enough to stop it shaking and took her out of the
classroom. The rest of the students were oblivious as they often were.
He looked in her soft hazel eyes with his dark piercing ones softening with
compassion and still holding her hand gave it a soft squeeze as her attack
subsided. She thought this completely uncharacteristic of his dark, cold
demeanour. As it ended she began to sob with both the release of emotion and
shock.
He had no idea what to do in such a situation but instinctively from somewhere
pulled her close with one hard hand on her lower back and the other round her
shoulders.
The air filled with a smell of honey or of some sweet nectar,which was clearly
her scent of choice; this engulfed him in a haze unaware of what a simple scent
was doing to him.
Her head had no where else to go but rest on his encased chest which was
comfortable despite one button grazing pressed into her temple as his grip was
quite tight.
He lay his chin upon the top of her and smiled as he felt both the softness of
her hair and the gentle sigh she let out as he did so.
He took the arm from round her shoulder but she gripped hard on to his shirt in
the few areas that were slightly loose and he placed it back to hold her in a
close embrace.
Such contact he felt was going to be uncomfortable yet he felt no awkwardness
and enjoyed the way she required his comfort. He could have easily held her
there forever but as his shirt became damper with her tears he had to release
her and return to his growingly rowdy class.
He looked into her eyes once more - they were filled with the old tears and his
mouth almost forced and smile but her remained composed and pulled his sleeves
back down to cover his hands and brushed off his shirt where damp.
“Miss Granger you may be excused to go to the toilet if so required” his voice
was the softest she had ever heard it yet the vibrato of his lower tones still
shuddered through her.
She flattened her skirt and went into the direction of the closest one to her.
He tried not to but couldn't help admire her physique as she turned, her cape
still at her desk. Shaking his head in disbelief he returned.
———————————————————————————————————————————
***** Unwanted thoughts *****
Chapter Summary
     Snape's mind is unable to stray from thoughts of the younger witch,
     his attempts to hide this becoming less successful.
Chapter Notes
     I am very new to this, as you can probably tell, so please give me
     any pointers and tell me how to improve i'm all for constructive
     criticism. Also let me know how I may continue..
     Thank you,
His mind found it hard to dismiss the constant reminder of Hermione the most
trivial things would remind him of her and he couldn’t stand it. His reputation
which he had put all effort into building and maintaining was most important to
him. To have so called feeling for anyone but in particular a pupil would be
catastrophic. Why would a anyone let alone a gorgeous young woman have matching
feeling for such a horrible man anyway. He would slump into his oversized green
chair of his private quarters and squalor is self pity.
He couldn’t help remember Hermione’s scent how it was intoxicatingly sweet and
how it did such unspeakable things to him. His eyes rolled back into his head
and he combined the sweet smell and her soft hair in his mind. No - he thought,
he mustn't she's 17 and he’s a has been, a teacher for God sake. It was
perverse, it was wrong however the forbidden pleasure made it so much more
desirable. The thoughts he began to let in; dropping his mental discipline.
He began to day dream, her small soft hands were beautifully kept with nails of
short length but all perfectly equal, she would often paint then a neutral
colour but in his mind they were sultry and red. His usual least favourite
colour but his mental stories seemed to be changing that.
He imagined those hands trailing down him and his her. His erotic mind made his
arousal climb, uncontrollably he could feel himself getting warm as blood began
to flow southward. He released it as it became uncomfortable pressed against
his already tight trousers.
His hand moved in a steady rhythm as he pictured more delicate hands working.He
pictured her hands moving so gently yet expertly, her hazel eyes never leaving
his. He pictured her enjoying it as much as he her pulse increasing with the
same as arousal he was currently feeling.
The mental depiction of her was as she was normally for she didn't require any
elaborate additions, in his eyes she was perfect. Her school uniform however
was no more and she was fashioning a simple black lacy bra and plain black
pants for neither did she need any accentuation within the underwear department
for her figure created enough visual content. Her small frame with tiny waist
and perky breasts and fabulous arse. He was certainly a butt guy. Her full lip
was under the strain of her upper teeth and she bit it so teasingly. He
needless to say he wished she was really there and just as naughty as her
imagined her, so innocent yet so wanton.
His head flung back with pleasure, his hand didn't usually particularly do much
to him but clearly with the thoughts of Hermione it took him to a foreign place
and with a gradual increase in pace he finished.
His messy dark hair, was covering his face so with one hand he swept it back
being careful not to get any in it. He in an orderly manor disposed of all
evidence as if it were a military procedure and continued to read a book which
inhabited the desk next to his chair, a clear favourite, on defence against the
dark arts.
He still even after trying to ‘relive’ his desire couldn’t stop thinking of
that 'know it all' Miss Granger. It infuriated him. Ugh, no potion could
diffuse the way he thought. He was certainly not going to let her know however,
he could not take rejection again, fuck that he thought. He would rather live
the what if than revisit the anger and upset caused by another mudblood,
another infuriatingly perfect mudblood.
However as muggles apparently say ‘the show must go on’ and so the usual
routine continued and Sunday nights scheduled the weekly gathering for the
staff members half of which he still didn't know their names and the majority
he could not stand, how could a wizard of such intelligence be compiled to
create small talk with these ignoramus’.
He had gained the ability to gaze into someones face directly and hear nothing
they say, a gift he cherished. Completely zoning out until he heard Miss
Grangers voice mentioned. It was as if her name triggered some instant
response. He sprung out of the dazed conversation and joined the conversation
which the topic he relished in immediately. Unaware of how obvious he was.
Dumbledore as observant as ever puzzeled to why his actions were such.
"Severus, a word." Snape followed, they often had side conversations for the
headmaster to discuss the future and the cause.
"Albus?" His voice still low and masculine but loosing a little composition as
he could tell that the subject here was going to be different as his facial
expression displayed not a concern but a confusion.
"How is Miss Granger" Oh fuck he knew, he must think i'm grotesque; a perve a
first class perve. "I noticed your response to her name,is she aware of our
arrangement, has she worked it out, she is a very bright witch?" Thank the lord
he is on a different page entirely.
" Oh, no she's just be a little uneasy of late, I'm aware the stress of her
owls is increasing and she may be, as muggles say, buckling under the pressure"
His voice remained low, stern and assertive regaining the lost composition and
the wall was back up.
"That's good, I was beginning to panic, God knows what other thoughts had come
to mind.."
***** Two can play at that game *****
Chapter Summary
     Not only Snape requires a release
Chapter Notes
     Sorry it's short..
Hermione a like her professor, sat and pondered the previous events. How could
a man with such a cold front have a caring side, he surely didn't have a warm
heart. 'Or maybe it's just towards me', as a typical teenager she found herself
over thinking and evaluating what was possibly a normal situation. Was it fuck
a normal situation, she thought, she fancied the most hated man in the school.
He was a teacher for god sake, he would be called perverse, but she relished in
the 'forbidden pleasure'. His dark and menacing eyes did things to her, not
exactly romantic, but they made her feel an arousing awkwardness which no one
had ever or could ever make her feel. It was as though his eyes were caressing
her yet they often remain fixated on her face.
He closed her eyes and began to imagine his dark eyes. As her eyes closed, her
mouth climbed into a small grin and her head tilted backwards. Her mind
wandered from his eyes to his lips, the lips she had longed to know if they
were as brittle as the words that came from them or as soft as she wished for.
Soft enough to press against hers with such passion and cause no discomfort.
Her fantasies were becoming more elaborate, she had, had time and practice to
embellish them. His lips in her mental depiction would reach down to hers, and
gently press on to hers creating a tension so strong a fantasy allowed it to be
felt as though real. It was within these moments she began to question her
thoughts and tried to release them but on the other hand found them so
enjoyable to actually want them to stop.
She moved her hand down to her thigh and imagined it was his hand, however her
petit hands nothing compared to the ginormous ones which he possessed. She
could only close her eyes and hope her imagination would do them justice. Her
legs opened almost spontaneously as she squeezed at her uncovered thighs. Her
hand brushed the cotton of her unfortunately conservative underwear, and her
leg jerked at the touch. She was a young woman and had pleasured herself before
but being so smart and busy, she didn't do it often and when it did happen she
was extremely sensitive.
She became very hot and returned to her mind as she brushed the pants aside.
She pictured as her bent over her as his height so towering she was a mere
speck underneath him, his lips locked to hers, his tongue moving round her
mouth. He tasted so neutral but the warmth of his mouth and hers generated was
great. He held her tight a hand round her waist such as was prior that day. He
pushed her against the desk (her fantasies always took place in the classroom-
she clearly wasn't as well behaved as the pretence she had created!) This made
her below tingle, so doctored that and began to move her hand around her
sensitive spot, which she was still coming to terms with.
This causing her head to go further back and she bucked on her bed slightly,
her purple rode riding up to her waist. She found a rhythm and went back to
matching it with the story she was playing off in her mind. He took he from
being bent over backward on the desk, as his hands moved from down where they
were and he undid his always tight black trousers. She always noticed the
tightness of his trousers in class and how little they left to the imagination.
Rather proud of how much work she was still able to get done, with such a
distraction.
As he took of his trousers and revealed his member in the mind, she sped up her
rhythm and took out what she used as a dildo. It wasn't very large but reached
the spot. She placed it within her and as she did let out a small yelp until
she surrounded it comfortably and regaining a rhythm her breathing increased
coming out in small soft sighs. It filled her and she knew it as it brushed
against her spot, her pleasure mounting and she had all on making the moment
last. What she was using did not match the picture of Snape's member in her
mind, the picture was very true to life as she had studied it very well. She
truly wished he was there that it wasn't at all a fantasy she wanted this as
reality. God he's so hot!
She began to release louder sounds and she had to bite her pillow to not make
her deed noticed, she got faster and used the other hand back on her bead and
she tilted her hips to allow it to go deeper, her hips rotating also. She let
out a huge sigh and muffle scream as she climaxed her mind wandering as she
imagined them finishing at the same time ,an almost impossible task but her
fantasies did not require logic. She rolled over and flung her legs round the
pillow beside her and imagined it was him, she placed her head and hand on it
and fell asleep as though it was on Snape's chest.
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