Not a Gentleman
Title: Not a Gentleman
Team Name: Spy for the Death Eaters
Word Count: 5x100
Rating: M
Challenge: Not a Gentleman
Characters: Hermione/Severus
Disclaimer: I am making no profit. Any characters or settings recognizable from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K. Rowling. The rest is mine.
~*~*~*~
Professor Snape took off his boots, undid the seven buttons at the bottom of his trousers’ legs, rolled them up carefully to his knees and stepped into the shallow water.
The Fairy Leeches were essential for Blood Replenishing Potion, but they had to be harvested by the brewer himself. They were also quite timid and easily scared by noise.
This end of the Black Lake was usually very quiet, but as an additional precaution he had mentioned at breakfast that the Great Squid had, of late, taken a fancy to it. To his well concealed surprise, Professor Granger had concurred.
~*~*~*~
He didn’t flinch when the first Fairy bit, but stood patiently, waiting for more and trying to distract himself with thoughts of Professor Granger’s face when he had neatly dismantled her latest crusade to have half-blood elves (they bred quite easily with bunnies) admitted to Hogwarts. Thank Merlin, Minerva was sensible. But Granger had turned a most interesting shade of red, and her eyes had glittered.
The silence was broken by a noisy splash. The Fairy unclenched jerkily its teeth and fled. He frowned and, casting a Muffliato on himself, waded through the reeds towards the source of the disturbance.
~*~*~*~
Professor Granger sighed.
It had been a very trying day (why had Snape--Severus?--to be such an awkward git? And how could Minerva be so nice yet so narrow-minded?) but the mellow light of the setting sun and the peace of the little inlet, walled by high thickets of reeds, were already soothing her.
The smooth, shining surface of the lake glimmered like a golden mirror. She finished disrobing, dipped a toe into the water then, laying all her cares aside, threw herself into the shallow pond with a big splash.
The waters wrapped around her like liquid silk.
~*~*~*~
She was still splashing around happily, grinning and brushing the strands of wet hair from her face when she felt a long shadow looming over her.
She froze, then, very slowly, lowered her hands from her face and looked up.
Professor Snape, fully dressed except for his rolled up trousers, was glowering at her.
She felt her cheeks burn, but it was too late to hide and anyway she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She bit her lip and squared her shoulders defiantly.
It was only at the last moment that she grew aware of what that move did for...
~*~*~*~
She felt Snape’s (Severus’?) gaze slide from her flaming cheeks, first to her bitten lip and then downwards, moving slowly over her skin and, like a soft painter’s brush, spreading out in its wake the layer of suffusing pink: from her throat to her collarbones, unrolling it over her breasts and trailing around them before it stopped with exquisite precision on...
She felt her flesh harden to an aching tightness.
“Snape, you are not a gentleman,” she blurted out in despair.
His gaze was still fastened on the pebbled, dark rose peaks, but his eyes narrowed.
“Fortunately, neither are you.”
Team Name: Spy for the Death Eaters
Word Count: 5x100
Rating: M
Challenge: Not a Gentleman
Characters: Hermione/Severus
Disclaimer: I am making no profit. Any characters or settings recognizable from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K. Rowling. The rest is mine.
~*~*~*~
Professor Snape took off his boots, undid the seven buttons at the bottom of his trousers’ legs, rolled them up carefully to his knees and stepped into the shallow water.
The Fairy Leeches were essential for Blood Replenishing Potion, but they had to be harvested by the brewer himself. They were also quite timid and easily scared by noise.
This end of the Black Lake was usually very quiet, but as an additional precaution he had mentioned at breakfast that the Great Squid had, of late, taken a fancy to it. To his well concealed surprise, Professor Granger had concurred.
~*~*~*~
He didn’t flinch when the first Fairy bit, but stood patiently, waiting for more and trying to distract himself with thoughts of Professor Granger’s face when he had neatly dismantled her latest crusade to have half-blood elves (they bred quite easily with bunnies) admitted to Hogwarts. Thank Merlin, Minerva was sensible. But Granger had turned a most interesting shade of red, and her eyes had glittered.
The silence was broken by a noisy splash. The Fairy unclenched jerkily its teeth and fled. He frowned and, casting a Muffliato on himself, waded through the reeds towards the source of the disturbance.
~*~*~*~
Professor Granger sighed.
It had been a very trying day (why had Snape--Severus?--to be such an awkward git? And how could Minerva be so nice yet so narrow-minded?) but the mellow light of the setting sun and the peace of the little inlet, walled by high thickets of reeds, were already soothing her.
The smooth, shining surface of the lake glimmered like a golden mirror. She finished disrobing, dipped a toe into the water then, laying all her cares aside, threw herself into the shallow pond with a big splash.
The waters wrapped around her like liquid silk.
~*~*~*~
She was still splashing around happily, grinning and brushing the strands of wet hair from her face when she felt a long shadow looming over her.
She froze, then, very slowly, lowered her hands from her face and looked up.
Professor Snape, fully dressed except for his rolled up trousers, was glowering at her.
She felt her cheeks burn, but it was too late to hide and anyway she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She bit her lip and squared her shoulders defiantly.
It was only at the last moment that she grew aware of what that move did for...
~*~*~*~
She felt Snape’s (Severus’?) gaze slide from her flaming cheeks, first to her bitten lip and then downwards, moving slowly over her skin and, like a soft painter’s brush, spreading out in its wake the layer of suffusing pink: from her throat to her collarbones, unrolling it over her breasts and trailing around them before it stopped with exquisite precision on...
She felt her flesh harden to an aching tightness.
“Snape, you are not a gentleman,” she blurted out in despair.
His gaze was still fastened on the pebbled, dark rose peaks, but his eyes narrowed.
“Fortunately, neither are you.”