Fic: What’s a Man to Do? (Part 1 of 3)

[sshg-smutmod.livejournal.com]

Title: What's a man to do? (1/3)
Author: (anonymous for now)
Summary: Suffering from a curse that causes oddly specific impotence, how can Severus help Hermione get what she wants?
Prompt: Many years ago, for refusing Professor Vector's advances, she cursed Severus to be impotent. Since Severus pined for Lily, it did not matter to him he was cursed. Now after the war, Hermione has caught his eye.
Prompter: bonsaibetz
Warnings:
Notes: I veered a little from the prompt, I hope no one minds too much.
Some smut (obviously), a little plot, a splash of humour, a little fluff, perhaps a smidgen of angst, and potentially OOC in places. Characters and places belong to JKR, I'm just playing for fun, no money made, no harm intended.


Professor Severus Snape, Headmaster Emeritus, OofM 1st class and present Head of the Potions Department at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stretched his long legs out in front of the fire. His fingers were wrapped around a small brandy snifter, warming the measure of Calvados within. A rich, deep aroma of apples, oak, and more rose from the alcohol he swirled in the glass, dipping his admittedly large nose over the rim to take a deep breath of the evaporating vapours before sipping the rich, red-gold liquid and letting it spread across his tongue to get the full affect of the flavours. Holding the glass higher, the colour was enhanced by the light from the flames, and he took a moment to admire it before taking another sip.

He knew there was just enough for eight such sips in the measure, and was spreading them out long enough to allow his mind and body to relax after a taxing week. This was not an everyday tipple after all but rather an expensive vintage, an occasional treat for the sensual side of his nature. It surprised people but he wasn't one for drinking, usually taking just the odd glass of wine at social functions or with a meal, perhaps a pint of ale in less formal settings. This, however, was almost a ritual, an occasional little indulgence—and at the price of the bottle was not likely to become more. Loosening a few buttons at his collar, he allowed his mind to wander.

Severus has grown up poor, with few of the nicer things of life. As a money-less Halfblood in Slytherin, he took every opportunity to improve both his situation and his knowledge of better things when he could. Having seen the effects of excess all too often and having little by way of resources, he made it a point to limit and fully appreciate his treats. Perhaps not in the early days. As a child first at Hogwarts he stuffed himself unashamedly on the bounty of a full table, an extensive library and life beyond the run-down end of Cokeworth, but as he grew he learned to use his talents and few, hard-earned galleons wisely.

There were some things over which he had less control of either quality or quantity, although he supposed he'd not done too badly. He had taken time to grow into his body, and both his looks and personality had never been anything to write home about. At Hogwarts he discovered he might get discreet feminine attention from time to time in an exchange of favours, but later he got by with some well placed cash and compliments amongst the Muggle girls at the pub for the odd tryst, albeit a quick knee-trembler against the wall of the alley out back, or occasionally shelling out for a bag of chips to share on the way back to his place if he liked the girl well enough. Nothing serious ever came of it..

Of course, there was Lily. But she was special, and ultimately beyond his reach. Perhaps one day they could have reconciled their friendship, but it wasn't to be. Perhaps one day he would have moved on to have a deeper relationship with someone else, but there had been obstacles to that, too. Once impeded by his fledgling position at Hogwarts, his term-time contact with the opposite sex largely came in the form of his colleagues, the occasional parent and certain of-age students.

Some mothers had proved willing for a little flirtation with the young teacher, especially if she felt it might do her failing or infractious offspring some good, but that was a minefield. So too with the girls at school. There were few rules against it if they were of age and consensual (the rulebook being largely Medieval and inclined to consider snaring a good partner early as a perk), but he was suspicious of those coy and come-hither looks. Ultimately, he was too much under Dumbledore's eye to risk what he had for a bit of skirt.

Then there were his colleagues. Then as now, the majority were female, and largely single, if mature. Not that age was much of a problem to him in itself, but he just didn't want to get involved, what with the workplace gossip and cliques and jealousies. As he was already in the habit of holding himself slightly aloof it hadn't been difficult to politely ignore the odd veiled suggestion or passing grip of his knee below the table. However, late one night in his third year of teaching things changed when he found himself accosted in a quiet corridor by a completely smashed Septima Vector.

Severus had occasionally come across a member of staff a little the worse for wear before, and initially considered her drunken stumble into him as accidental. He was momentarily stunned though when he found her hand at his buttock and giving it a good squeeze. Before he could disentangle himself she was making a positively obscene suggestion with a gust of foul breath in his face, followed up by an equally eye-watering grab at his crotch. Reflexly shoving her from his person caused her to land hard on her arse at his feet. Swearing loudly, she waved her wand wildly at Severus, mouthing some kind of gibberish, then passed out.

Agitated, he summoned an elf to send Vector safely to her chambers before striding off. Back in his own chambers, Severus had checked himself over as best he could for jinxes, hexes and Dark magic, but could find nothing wrong. Thinking the spell must have failed, if spell it be, he went to bed for a troubled sleep. The next morning found Vector (and several others) nursing a sore head at breakfast, and it was soon apparent she had no memory whatsoever of the incident. Having found nothing of note the previous night, Severus had decided to leave the subject well-alone.

It wasn't until the summer Severus discovered the problem.

He was still young, with a healthy enough sex drive despite his abstinence, and during most of the school year he would find release through his own hand in the privacy of his quarters. So, away from the castle and a week into the summer holiday, he decided to try his luck down at the local, and had picked up a likely lass. Round the back of the pub she had pulled him eagerly into the shadows, where he thrust his hand into her knickers to get her ready for him. However, he himself was feeling not much more than a slight stirring down below. Frowning, he soon had the anonymous pick up coming loudly on his fingers despite his own problem, causing the cellarman to stick his head out back to yell at the 'dirty little buggers,' and the girl to scarper without him — or her knickers.

Back home he grumpily stripped off and looked down at his contrary cock. Throwing himself onto his bed he reached down for a fumbling inspection, wondering what had gone wrong. He thought of what had happened in the alley, and before long he had more than a handful of erect flesh and was rapidly stroking himself to completion, jets of come over his hand and belly. With only a passing thought as to the whys and wherefores Severus cleaned himself, turned over and slept soundly.

Frustratingly, it wasn't an isolated occurrence. After a few such failures his dignity (and the risk of being caught performing an illegal Obliviate) had him avoid the continued pursuit of a good shag. After a while he set himself to study the problem, and came to a worrying conclusion; he'd been hexed. An embarrassing yet confidential examination by a mediwizard confirmed this, but couldn't fix it. There were other things he needed to get done over the summer break, so all he could do was brood about it until it was time to return to Hogwarts, and hope it would wear off.

After school was back in session and he had access to the whole of his own and Hogwart's library, plus a little surreptitious Legilimency on Vector herself as the most likely culprit, Severus had not discovered much beyond that he was suffering the long-lasting effects of whatever miscast curse the witch had used that night. Experimentation with potions, curse-breaking magics and other, somewhat dubious, techniques had not alleviated the effects, either. The upshot was that Severus Snape could no longer achieve erections in company, be it witch, wizard or Muggle, and had only the minor consolation that, in private, he could get it up and wank himself raw if he was inclined.

This hadn't deterred him from trying, although he learned to be more subtle about things. Some discreet flirtation, perfecting a few seduction and foreplay techniques, and applying the odd minor memory charm along the way helped keep his reputation well enough over the years, if it got him no further forward in his search for a cure. In private he still found himself thumbing through likely looking old tomes or fresh research when he came across it (Ha! No pun intended). He gradually lost interest in the bulk of pornography, be it magic or Muggle, but instead acquired a select collection of erotica over the years. Growing inured to the condition he found himself appreciating what intriguing glimpses of womanhood he noticed around him, unintended voyeurism, taking his memories and impressions back with him to his otherwise celibate rooms to get what pleasure he still could from them. Which is where he was now.

Sucking down the final sip of Calvados, extending his pointed tongue sinuously to catch the last drip gathering on the rim of the raised glass, Severus now let his mind consider his colleague, Hermione Granger. He had been surprised to find her to be rather good company since she joined the staff. She certainly had improved with age, in both mind and body. It was her body Severus thought of now. There was no harm, he told himself again, it wasn't as if he could do anything about any licentious thoughts he may indulge in, after all.

The witch had reached her full growth shortly after the end of the war, and in more recent years she had filled out in a most agreeable manner. Not that he got any any more, but he liked a woman with a bit of meat on her—not too much, but enough for a soft handful. Hermione was just about right. He remembered earlier when her bust had bounced and jiggled before him as she had trotted down one of the staircases to catch him for some reason. At the time it was little more than a pleasant distraction, but now he felt a familiar stirring. Putting the glass to one side, Severus slipped loose the buttons of his fly.

Reaching to where his semi-hard cock nestled in his cotton boxers, he rubbed down the length with the heel of his palm. Spreading his legs a bit and nudging his balls into a slightly looser position, he worked his way back up his length, this time pulling his nails over the cotton-clad flesh. Another round of this, and he pulled his hardened cock free and set about himself properly.

The foreskin had not yet pulled fully back, so Severus wrapped his fingers around just under the ridge that marked the concealed head. The slight slackness of skin was comfortable enough to allow his stroking without any further lubrication, and he moved his hand along the length with a rapid flick of his wrist. As his body responded to the familiar actions his rose-red tip was revealed more with each pull, now seeping just enough clear, sticky fluid that he could rub his fingers in it, pinching the thick flesh of the crown and running his thumb up underneath the flange.

With the image of Hermione's jiggling breasts still in mind, it stretched to the memory of her from the previous week. He had been standing in the shadows of the entrance hall, ready to chivvy along any loiterers, when the door had banged open and Granger had rushed through, laughing. Taking advantage of the last light for a stroll she had been caught in a sudden shower and elected to dash the last few yards. There she stood, her thin peasant-style blouse wet through. He recalled the way the light had made the wet fabric nearly transparent as it clung to her, the lace of her bra doing little to help disguise the darker skin around her chill-stiffened nipples. In a moment she used her wand to dry herself and walk off, never noticing him, but he had certainly noticed her.

Now he imagined a scene where he steps out in front of her before she can dry herself, and asks if she'd like some help. Smiling, unaware of the spectacle she presents, Hermione spreads her arms for him to dry her, but instead he leans forward, cupping the weight of those gorgeous tits and running his thumbnails across the sensitive tips. She gasps, but doesn't protest as he catches the drawstring of her neckline and loosens it, pulling down the fabric of both blouse and bra before leaning down to feast on her newly exposed skin with teeth, lips and tongue. Now she moves, but only to run her fingers across his scalp. He likes that.

Severus loses himself further in the fantasy, throwing back his head as one hand fondles his balls and presses on the perineum behind. With a grunt he cups his free hand and rubs the lightly callused palm over the sensitive bulb, collecting the now abundant liquid of his precum before setting about a rhythm on his hard yet fleshy cock, his hand pulling, twisting and taking a turn or two over the head once again.

Back in his fantasy and, impossibly, no staff, student or portrait would pass by to see the wanton scene being openly enacted in the entrance hall, despite Hermione's half-hearted complaints that they might. Severus knows she is getting as big a kick out of the possibility of being seen as he is. Instead, he straightens, now suckling on her neck as he pulls up her skirt, using a hand to grip one of hers firmly against his still clothed cock as he rocks his hips and rapidly brings her off with fingers and thumb along her dripping slit. While she clings to him and catches her breath he undoes his fly and urges her to her knees, pushing that lush flesh together at the sides and, with the lubrication of her copious juices on his fingers to help, fucks her tits until he comes all over them and around her neck.

With a deep sigh, Severus reached for his wand to clean himself of the evidence of his illicit dreams as he locks them away in his mind. Best not to think on them; he needs to be able to work with the woman after all, and he actually likes her, a lot more than he realised it seems.

---

There had been far-reaching changes to the school at Hogwarts over the last decade or so. It was a foregone conclusion that some things would change after that horrifying battle enacted in and around the castle, what with the damage, destruction and loss of life. The temptation, especially with so much else falling apart in the aftermath, had been to put it all back together again much as it had been, as some kind of symbol of continuity. One of the first things toward this was to enact measures to put Minerva McGonagall in place as Acting Headmistress. This stalwart had been Deputy Head for many years under Albus Dumbledore and the brief rule of Severus Snape and was the obvious choice, even given that Snape was found hanging to life by a thread. Later, his formal resignation was submitted after a long, private conversation at his bedside, from which the lady emerged pale and with a haunted look in her eye, but tight lipped. Neither would even hint at what was said.

Hand now officially on the helm, Headmistress McGonagall took charge of the plans to rebuild, on her own terms. The amount of damage meant it was more feasible to remodel certain areas rather than try to patch them up, she argued, and some changes were long overdue. Overruling the complaints of the Old Guard and making good use of emergency funds, contributions from alumni and donations from a sympathetic public meant she could sidestep the currently ineffective Ministry's attempts at gaining some control of the school through the comparatively meagre compensation it offered. A carefully vetted committee was instead gathered for consultation, and soon a more substantial and modernised Hogwarts Castle was rising from the rubble.

While building work was underway, Minerva set about sorting the administration. For years she had been stuck with the scutwork as Deputy Head while Dumbledore worked on many things both in and out of the public eye, so was well aware of both the way things were done and of things that really needed change. This hadn't altered much under Snape's short leadership. Now she found herself looking at certain oddities and irregularities that had bothered her over the years, but had been purposefully distracted from. What she discovered was staggering.

Over the centuries, benevolent donors had provided endowments in such a way that the headmasters and mistresses had some resources to call on that were beyond the vagaries of the governors and suchlike in charge of the official school budgets. The intention was to allow an incumbent the freedom of choice for supplementary scholarships, bursaries, pensions or even small additional comforts as needed, so the wording was of necessity often vague. Dumbledore had technically kept within the guidelines (if not the spirit) of this, so for years most of this income had been subverted 'for the greater good' instead. Some properties that became safe houses, provisions provided for the use of the Order of the Phoenix, and even regular sums paid to informants were labelled ambiguously 'for friends of the school community finding themselves in need.' This had to stop.

What with a now generous budget to be spent within the school, even after allowing provision of a much reduced series of supportive measures needed during the post-Voldemort chaos, Headmistress McGonagall discovered she had control of enough additional funds to set about a long overdue restructuring of the school system. She laid out plans to overhaul existing subjects, reinstate certain classes that had been dropped by Albus over the years plus the introduction of a few more, with the addition of whole new tiers of teachers, assistants and counsellors to help cover them.

Instead of a single, hard pressed, professor covering a subject there were now to be proper departments. These departments would allow for division of workload as well as cover additional classes and extracurricular activities. While a little suspicious of the mention of additional work, the present staff were generally enthusiastic at the idea of being able to palm off things like grading and detention supervision, and were more inclined to consider additional changes. So it was that apprenticeships, clubs and study groups were brought onboard for serious consideration.

A more contentious move was to invite Snape back. It had never been a condition of his abdication, nor did he expect Minerva's offer. It took some convincing of everyone involved, including Snape himself, but she stood firm and offered him the choice of department head for either Defence Against Dark Arts or Potions. Eventually Snape agreed to take Potions back. He reasoned that there would be a number of seasoned people free to properly tutor Defence in the near future, whereas he shuddered to think what precedents would be set with Slughorn in charge of a new Potions department. The fact that he wouldn't need to be overseeing practical brewing sessions helped with his decision, too. Minerva was being most generous.

And so a new era opened up at Hogwarts School. Not everything went smoothly at first, but after a few short years it seemed that everyone had settled into the new system. There were fresh faces in the staff room, and Snape was seen to have mellowed after being allowed back into the fold. He had a whole new appreciation of things these days, be they academic or the company of his peers, and he presented the image of a strict yet equitable educator and approachable colleague, even gracing them with his small, swift smiles more often than before. It was around this time that Hermione Granger had turned up, having passed her Charms mastery and been taken on as a junior teacher under Flitwick.

Truth be told, like others of his more recent ex-students, he'd dreaded it since the moment he heard Minerva and Filius twittering about Granger accepting the position. In the end he had been pleasantly surprised by her demeanour, going so far as to encourage a few of her attempts to draw him into conversation. He never engaged in gossip, but he often surreptitiously listened in on it all the same. This is how he came to know a good deal about her and her situation without even asking, skirting issues she seemed happy not to have to mention, and allowing him the same courtesy. Before long they even became comfortable in each others company.

Things changed for him one day not long into Hermione's second year as a teacher. As she talked animately about a shared interest with him in the staff room at afternoon break, he suddenly interrupted her with a pronounced sigh. She looked up, surprised to find Professor Sprout leaning over and sniffing him.

“Haven't you all grown tired of this game by now,” he asked of Pomona, dryly.

“What, and give up on the chance of a free favour from you, Severus? You must be joking!”

Catching Hermione's confused look, Severus took pity on her.

“A few years ago, certain nosey parkers around here with nothing better to do with their time started trying to find out what my 'signature scent' or some such codswallop was. Fool that I am, rather than nip it in the bud, I agreed to a challenge; a favour—providing it was legal, within my abilities and wouldn't bring anyone to harm—to whoever told me exactly what the scent was. So far there have been a few guesses come close with individual elements, but none with exactly what I asked for. “

Pomona had walked back to her seat with a wry smile and a shake of her head, having gained no new inspiration. Daringly, Hermione turned to the wizard with a look of excitement at the challenge offered.

“Is it a closed field, or may anyone try?” Hermione asked him.

Snape was thoughtful. Hermione Granger had a potential advantage over many of the wizard-folk present, so he stalled for a moment. “And just what would you want as a favour from me?”

“I, I don't know, I've only just found out about this. Could whoever wins decide a little later?” Hermione queried.

Snape's small, quirky smile flashed across his face. “Indeed, I see little problem with that idea – so long as the winner doesn't take undue advantage of my... generous nature,” he agreed as he leaned back and spread his arms wide in invitation. “So, Charms Mistress Granger, want to try your luck?”

He had been expecting her to get flustered and back off a little. Instead she stood in front of him, almost between his slightly spread knees, leaned over and took in a great lungful! Eyes half closed and chest expanded in front of his nose, she held the scent for a while, then took a couple more short sniffs. He hadn't been the focus of her attention like this before, and Severus started to notice small things about the witch he'd never considered. He pulled his wandering thoughts in as she straightened, a look of happy surprise on her face.

“It's Pears,” she blurted, and grinned at the slightly shocked look on his face. From somewhere in the room came a loud whisper of 'Pears? What type? Conference, comice, avocado...' from someone taking note of the guesses. They both ignored it.

“How in the world...?”

“My grandmother – my dad's mum – always used to have Pear's soap in the bathroom when we visited. I used to love looking at the light through it, like a big block of slippery amber, and the smell was so much better than the strongly floral scents my other gran used to prefer; sort of a coal tar-like smell with citrus sharp accents,” she was distracted for a moment in happy remembrance before turning her attention back fully onto him. “Well, am I right?”

By now there was no pretence in the others present as they openly watched, waiting on his pronouncement. He sat straighter and gave her a courteous nod of assent.

“Well done, Hermione. I do indeed have a preference for the Muggle brand of soap. I can only hope delivering your favour will not prove to be beyond my skills, when you decide to call it in.”

She grinned and punched the air, then recalled herself – unlike their colleagues yammering away and calling out questions as they realised the long-standing prize had finally been nabbed.

Try as he might, after that elements of Hermione Granger started creeping into his fantasies as quickly as their working relationship and friendship grew, and so did her presence in certain, gentler, dreams he found it difficult to acknowledge even to himself.

Comments

[bonsaibetz.livejournal.com]

Yes, you did change the prompt a little, but Vector cursed him and he's suffering from erectile dysfunction. You got the important bits, so that's what matters. Good opening start. AND YOU HAD HIM DRINKING CALVADOS! Either you are very familiar with my writings or you luckily threw that in, since I'm a fan of having someone drinking Calvados in my fics. So extra kudos to you, MA. I'm thrilled already and only one-third of the way through. Off to read the rest!

[eoforyth.livejournal.com]

Thanks, I'm happy I've got the essentials right. Calvados is that not-too-often drink my hubby enjoys, and I love the smell of it on him; I wanted a grown up drink and brandy is a bit more generic, while I've seen too many fics with wizards knocking a (fire)whisky straight past the tonsils (and I dread to think what MacGonagall makes of that) rather than savouring it. I'm glad it works for you, too :)

[too-dle-oo.livejournal.com]

Calvados! YES. Really, your whole opening description of Severus cuts to the heart of it: Having seen the effects of excess all too often and having little by way of resources, he made it a point to limit and fully appreciate his treats. Perhaps not in the early days. As a child first at Hogwarts he stuffed himself unashamedly on the bounty of a full table, an extensive library and life beyond the run-down end of Cokeworth, but as he grew he learned to use his talents and few, hard-earned galleons wisely.

That last scene, of intimacy and knowledge yet still one of propriety in front of an audience, just ripples with a lovely tension. Well done!

[eoforyth.livejournal.com]

Thank you. I didn't want it to look like Severus wasn't finding ways to live a fairly enriched life when he could, despite going without some things - otherwise he would just be creepy.

I'm glad the build up between them came across, even if it is mainly from his side.

[hbart.livejournal.com]

That's a horrible curse! And awfully risky to offer such an open-ended favor. He probably never expected anyone to get it right, I suppose. But lucky for us readers, he left things wide open *grins with delight*

[eoforyth.livejournal.com]

Horrible, but at least it didn't leave him completely frustrated. I'm sure his Slytherin side was thinking of ways around the favour thing from the start. Thanks, glad you like it :)