The Devil Within:
Concentrating on the number seven cauldron in front of him, Severus Snape registered the entrance of his apprentice, briefly registering the shape of the body that appeared at the door…Female, slight, working robes, with an attempt at plaited hair. The glance was so quick; any novice in dealing with the professor would have thought him oblivious to the intrusion.
This was most certainly not the case.
He just automatically recognized her as a non-threat and therefore ignored her entry all together.
This, he would recognize later, was a rather large mistake.
At the precise moment he added sumac, he felt something brush against his backside. His concentration barely broke in his potion making, thinking that he had misjudged the space behind him for her to operate. Severus noted the step stool being butted against his calves and the light quake of her weight displacement upon it. Odd, he thought, I don't remember giving her any tasks that would even remotely place her near me today. But that is when he felt her hand slide quite obviously over the curves of his shoulders. He felt the pressure of her fingertips fan out from his spine—defining it as they travelled up to his neck. She caressed his bare skin just above the collar where the starchy fabric and his hairline met. He felt those same fingertips apply pressure to a knot of muscle making his knees all but buckle from underneath him.
"Miss Granger!" A roar erupted from his throat as his hands continued in the process of his art…at a much too critical moment for him to stop, else it be ruined. "Are you completely mad? Remove your hands from me this instant!" the slightest tremble in his fingers registering only to him.
But her hands did not retract. As his hands continued their delicate ministrations, the exact stirring, the pinch of unicorn eyelashes at precisely the instant he felt her fingertips searching to find just the right spot to re-apply pressure. With efficiency of movement, he felt the offending muscle in his neck quiver and release, as if surrendering to her will.
There was a brief moment where she removed her hands, giving her potion's master just enough time to register the thought that she might have come to her senses when he felt her fingertips meet his temples. They softly raked his hair away from his face, banding it together at the base of his neck, then securing the fistfuls of hair with some ribbon.
A bead of sweat escaped his hairline as he continued his task.
This, the culmination of his life's work was not going to be ruined in a fraction of a second-a mere instant. Regardless of what his, from this moment forward, ex-apprentice did or said. He was so close to completing his greatest potion and would not let anything destroy his years of research and hard work.
Damn it, he couldn't even hex her without a chance of tainting his perfect creation.
"Leave me be this instant. As of this moment you are released from your apprenticeship. Get out, damn you." His seething voice, at the point of cracking from an uncommonly high pitch, forced its way into the room past straining vocal chords.
"Well…" Her lips just brushing the curve of his ear; moist heat warming his ear and cheek, "I only wanted to assist you, Master Snape. Saying as I am no longer your apprentice, however, I don't necessarily wish to jump to your commands at this very moment…that is, unless they are to my advantage of course."
Merlin's balls he thought to himself when he felt the tips of her fingers tracing his shoulder blades, her thumbs delving deep into the cleft, strumming the piano-wire tendons beneath. He felt her lift her hands back to the top of his shoulders only to apply those thumbs to the same task, each pass intentionally weakening the tension there, while simultaneously increasing the tension in other places.
The room was filled with a sucking noise as he drew a breath through grinding teeth.
It was if he was feeling her fingers trace his achingly hard member through his trousers…the throbbing painful, as the only part of him NOT governed by his will was screaming for freedom, contact and release simultaneously.
Severus steadied his nerves as much as he could, within precisely seven seconds he would have just one minute before the grueling process continued. The brew smelled of success. His eyes focused on the pristine elixir, knowing the hue was exactly as it should be….So far, so good.
Three…two…one…His head pistoned towards her, glowering at her. Instinctively he knew there was something eerily wrong with her; her eyes where blacker than his. Her face was flush and her lips swollen and glossy, as if she was just forced into a kiss to which she finally surrendered. Her eyes were honed in on his lips as she reflexively licked her own.
"What have you done, Miss Granger?" He grasped her upper arms and jostled her lightly, trying to gain eye-contact. When he finally did get her to look at him, she finally spoke.
"I've found a way to gain the entirety of your approval." Her voice was tainted. It was a voice coupled, Hermione's and a faint hint of another. It reached his ear with a heaviness of desire, the words dipping low inside him, coursing through him to find the places where her fingertips met his body.
This was obviously not the same intelligent, innocuous woman who diligently worked beside him, hour upon hour, upon countless hour.
Not completely, that is. He instinctively knew that this was some sort of possession…that they were not alone in this otherwise unoccupied room.
"If you don't exit this instant, I will force you out as soon as I am able." He yelled in her face as he pushed her away from his body and at arms length where he released her…seventeen, sixteen, fifteen seconds…Severus kept his eyes focused on hers as he centered himself by his station once again. Pointing at the door, He surmised that the look on her face did not bode well.
When have I ever seen a face as angelic….no, yes and…demonic as that all at once? The thought momentarily jarred him, but recovered just in time to continue the next series. Severus' hands worked in tandem at the onslaught of ingredients-A juggling act of the most crucial of ingredients, with a potion that may help most all of the wizarding world if completed successfully.
"Force me…why, Master Snape? You could force me to do so many other things than to leave. Of course it isn't force when something is really, really wanted, now is it?"
It was at this moment when Severus Snape completely underdressed. His robes hanging on the hook on the wall left him in clothes that seemed too tight.
His jacket, vest, shirtsleeves…even his pants all seemed to constrict, the layers failing to inhibit the sensations of her hands.
The tailoring he once thought would make him feel guarded and secure from attacks like the one he once suffered from the Marauders, did nothing to safeguard him from this VERY different attack he was suffering and only served to amplify each movement of her hand.
And those hands toiled away. Her hands unbuttoning every button while still managing to tantalize him through the heavy wool. His hands stirring the complex solution with barely a tremble as his mind reeled. Hermione's hands…her hands...ooh…mouth. He felt one hand skirt his ribs and her fingers slowly thrummed over one of his nipples, her lips brushing his earlobe, then her tongue gently coaxing it between her lips as she grazed it with her teeth.
He allowed one hand to grip the table as the other one reached for the vial of the most critical ingredient: Mummy's tears. Murderous thoughts mingled with his professional mind, knowing that one drop too many…or not enough at the precise moment…would be ruinous.
Hermione's mouth seemed to key into this line of thought…only to use it against him—her tongue slithering over his earlobe before exhaling the phrase, "Mmmmmm….do you taste this good everywhere?"
"I demand to know who ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MISS GRANGER!" His voice screeched as he continued working.
"I am who Miss Granger is. I am every bit her, and she me." Her hand continued to work him as her tongue flicked unexpectedly in places that only heightened his arousal against his will.
At that moment, the last ingredient was added but now each quarter turn of the spoon was the last stage in perfecting his creation.
And the one moment of complete concentration that he afforded his potion was punished by the feel of what only could be described as….
Her fingers thrummed each button of his waistcoat and delved to find the very tip of his hardness, One fingernail etching his full length until she cupped him with her whole hand.
He spun on his heels, grabbing and twisting her wrist away from him, and Severus stepped toward her, pushing her back from his workstation as well as himself. Knowing triumphantly that he succeeded in creating this potion was dulled by this situation, curbed by anger and concern for his—
Hermione acted immediately, and contrary to what Snape expected. He had used his strength to push, and expected her to resist…instead she pulled him toward her...and with this subtle movement she was able to make him lose his center of gravity, dragging him on top of her with little trouble.