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Summary: Sometimes you have to replace a bad memory with a better one. Especially if that bad memory was Dolores Umbridge in a pink negligee, hoping to get her hands on your bits. (Adult Hermione/Snape. Pure PWP with a side of humour.)

Rating: M

A/N - This is for Lilsherlockian1975, who said “Is there any way I can request a Snape Herm's story? If so, just PWP, around 4 years after graduation. Snarky hot sex with a happy ending?” I gave it my best shot.

Owe It All to Umbridge




Yet another Wednesday evening spent in the staff lounge at Hogwarts, Severus thought. Some might think it dull, boring even, and once upon a time he would have agreed with them. Then the Dark Lord had returned, the world had gone to shit, and he’d had his throat nearly ripped out by a giant fucking snake. Ever since then, spending a few hours in the company of some of his fellow staff once a week didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

Especially when he wasn’t the idiot-in-charge anymore. That year as Headmaster had been right up there with the worst time of his life. He’d only agreed to come back to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts under the clear understanding that he was never to be offered the Headmaster’s position again (not that anyone would have). Nor Deputy Headmaster (that one had been a possibility, but Severus had threatened to walk if anyone even thought of bringing it up again). He had been reluctant to once again take on the responsibility of Slytherin House, but Minerva had reminded him that having a war hero (how he hated that term) as their Head would help overcome the House’s reputation as blind followers of the Dark Lord.

Or, as Minerva liked to call him, that ‘Arsehole Tom’.

The staff meetings were still dull as dishwater; but since Minerva had taken over, they were considerably shorter and much more to the point. It was the after-meeting informal gatherings on Wednesday evenings that he enjoyed. Some of the staff would wander away to walk the halls, or grade papers, or do fuck-all in their rooms. The rest would sit around the lounge with a glass of wine or port, and gossip like a bunch of cackling hens.

Tonight was one of those nights.

The ones who had nothing better to do were grouped near the fire. Severus had taken one of the armchairs, Minerva the other. Aurora Sinistra and Pomona Sprout shared the settee. Filius Flitwick had conjured a comfortable puff to perch on. And the two newest teachers got stuck with pulling a pair of less-than-comfortable wooden chairs from the large table used for staff meetings, Justin Finch-Fletchley (Slughorn’s replacement brought in just two months ago when the school year began.) and Hermione Granger (Muggle Studies for the last three years, hired right after she received her N.E.W.T. scores)

“-honestly surprised the windows didn’t shatter. While he failed the assignment, I gave him extra credit for accidently discovering how to mimic the sound of a banshee’s cry and sent him down to Hagrid’s to see if he could think of any possible use for it.” Filius wiggled on his puff, clearly pleased with his student’s creativity.

“And what was he supposed to be doing, again?” Hermione asked.

“Cheering charm.”

“Ah, yes. I can see how those two could be so easily confused.” Severus smirked and took another drink of his Scotch. He heard Minerva snicker beside him.

Justin leaned forward and rather eagerly asked, “What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve witnessed or done since you’ve started working here?

“That’s an easy one.” Minerva grimaced. “I let Albus talk me into letting Lockhart have another go at his joke of a duelling club. You would think he had learned his lesson after Severus sent him arse over tea kettle in front of half of the school.”

“But he didn’t,” Pomona interjected rather gleefully.

Minerva nodded, a small smile graced her lips. “No, he did not. I almost explained his grave mistake when he insisted that Filius be his next partner, but then he called me dear heart and it must have slipped my mind.” She shrugged.

There was a fair bit of gigging from various members of their little group. The loudest seemed to come from Filius. “It was fun though, wasn’t it?”

“And educational,” Hermione offered in agreement. “I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone touch the ceiling of the Great Hall before. And definitely not face first.”

“You can thank Albus and Poppy for Lockhart not ending up in the infirmary; although lord knows it would have only improved his classes if he wasn’t the one teaching them.” Minerva rolled her eyes. “Albus slowed his ascent and Poppy cushioned his fall. Apparently, they spent most of the night before working on contingency plans to keep Lockhart from bruising anything more than his ego.”

Aurora caught Pomona’s eye and the both started giggling.

Minerva leaned across the arm of her chair to nudge Severus with her elbow. “Your turn.” Judging from her grin, he realized that she already knew what his answer will be.

“Umbridge.”

Hermione sputtered and nearly spit out a mouthful of wine. “You did Umbridge? You had sex with Dolores Umbridge?”

“Of course not, thank the gods. But not for lack of trying on her part. That horrid woman cornered me in my favourite storeroom, dropped her cloak to reveal a sickening pink negligee, and offered to perform oral sex on me.” Severus shivered in revulsion at the memory. He was pleased to see that he wasn’t the only one to have that sort of reaction.

Justin gaped. Pomona looked ill. Hermione finished the last of her wine in one gulp. Minerva continued to smile like a loon.

“I still can’t go into that storeroom without shuddering. I couldn’t even have a decent wank for most of the spring semester. She kept showing up at my door at all hours, demanding potions and wanting to discuss the students.”

Justin nodded. “Completely understandable,” he agreed with a voice full of sympathy.

A quiet fell over the room as everyone tried to get the mental image out of their heads.

Hermione broke the silence with a quiet, “No wonder you were so cranky that year.”

That was all it took to set Minerva off in a fit of giggles more suited to someone a third her age. He cast a narrow-eyed glare toward Hermione, only to be met with a teasing smile and a shrug.

“Very funny,” he grumbled. “Albus threw me at her every time he needed to keep her distracted. I didn’t even get a reprieve after he buggered off. He was sneaking back into the bloody castle every other week! ‘Take her for a walk to the greenhouses, Severus.’ Or, ‘Keep her away from the Headmaster’s office for the next three hours, Severus, I need access to the Pensieve.’ Or my personal favourite, ‘You’ll have to drug her tea, Severus. Do you have anything that doubles as a laxative?’.”

Aurora held up her hand. “I think that last one was me asking, actually. Sorry.”

Severus smirked. “Come to think of it, I believe you’re right. It made for an entertaining and relatively stress free weekend with her stuck in her room for three days.”

“I would have stuffed the woman in a cupboard within the first week,” Minerva muttered. “She sneered at Filius the moment she arrived at the school, you saw how she scared poor Hagrid, the list goes on and on. We all agreed that it came down to you and Hooch for ‘Umbridge sitting duty’, and you drew the short straw. You lost fair and square, Severus.”

Hermione blanched.

Severus noticed. “Let’s move on, shall we? What’s your story, Hermione?”

She lifted her glass to her lips, then grimaced when she realized it was empty. “I, uh, I walked in on Umbridge and Madam Hooch going at it in the Prefect’s bathroom.”

“I knew it!” Aurora crowed. “I told you there was something going on there.”

“You’re joking.” Severus studied the young woman’s face, searching for any hint that she was making the story up.

“I wish I was.” Hermione bit at her lower lip for a moment, as if she were debating whether or not to continue. “It wasn’t until I dragged a seventh year Ravenclaw in there to have a good snog and a decent . . . well, it took until my sixth year before I could enjoy a bath in there again.”

Justin pursed his lips and nodded his head, as if he were about to impart some great knowledge. “That will do it. Replace the bad memories with something pleasant. Muggles call it selective memory. My mum got a book about it after my nan died.”

Hermione had just started to ask him a question when a bell chimed a jaunty little tune. Everyone automatically turned to look at the fireplace mantel where four small bells (red, green, blue, and yellow) normally rested. The yellow one lifted and rang out once more.

Pomona groaned and hefted herself off the settee. “One of mine, then. Wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t Donaldson, poor boy came home from the winter holidays missing his new-born sister something fierce. Probably a sign I need to call it a night anyway.”

There were several rumbles of agreement. Glasses were hurriedly emptied and piled together to make it easier for the House-Elves to clean up (at Hermione’s insistence).

They filed out of the staff room and parted ways. Severus could hear Pomona asking Minerva if it would be possible to arrange a short floo call over the weekend so that Donaldson could check in with his family.

Hermione and Severus headed down the opposite corridor. Their rooms were in the same general direction. Normally they would split up at a particularly pesky set of stairs as he preferred his old quarters near Slytherin House and she had a set of rooms on the second floor.

As they neared the stairs, Hermione spoke, “You know, Justin was right.”

Severus was more concerned with settling into his bed with a good book and another small glass of Scotch than with discussing Justin Finch-Fletchley. “Hmm?”

“Replacing the bad memories really did help.” She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “You should do that.”

“What are you talking about? Replace the memory of Umbridge trying to get her hands, amongst other things, on my bits with . . . what exactly?”

“I don’t know,” Hermione huffed. “Invite someone down to the storeroom and have her suck you off.”

His jaw dropped open. He realized he must look like an idiot, but it still took him a full five seconds to pull himself together. “Are you suggesting that I find some random woman in Hogsmeade, and invite her up to the castle—which is currently full of students, I might add—so she can give me a blow job in the dungeons? Minerva would rip me apart and wear my bollocks as earrings if she thought I was even considering the idea.” Severus cast an uneasy look around the hall, well aware of how the walls tended to have ears in the castle. “Which I’m not,” he quickly clarified, just in case.

“Good point. Well made.” Hermione nodded as if she’d just come to a decision. “Right. Fine, I’ll do it.”

She reached the stairs and turned toward the set that lead down toward the dungeons, then realized that he had stopped moving several paces back.

“I’m sorry, you’ll what?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and came back to stand directly in front of him. “Give you something else to think about the next time you need to gather ingredients to brew something for the hospital wing. Do you want to keep imaging Umbridge in a short nightie, trying to get into your pants?”

His “Gods, no” escaped before he even thought about it.

“Now that we’ve got that settled, where are we going? Was it one of the classroom storerooms, or your personal one?”

He blinked several times, still not quite able to believe that this was really happening. “Uh, mine?”

She grabbed his hand and tugged him down the stairs. Severus followed her, a bemused smile finally settling on his lips by the time they reached the dungeon level.

Hermione Granger, who had grown up to be considerably less annoying than Severus had expected, was actually pulling him down the corridor in order to proposition him in a storeroom. Did it even count as propositioning someone if they’d already agreed to drop trou prior to the event in question?

Hermione Granger with her uncontrollable hair, sharp intellect, sharper tongue, soft thighs, and breasts that he’d only allowed himself to contemplate for ten (or fifteen minutes) at a time in the privacy of his own rooms . . . was about to bring him to orgasm with her mouth.

He increased his stride until he was practically pulling her the last few meters toward the door. He quickly drew his wand and brought down the wards before stepping back to let her go first.

She stood in the centre of the tiny room with her hands on her hips, and waited for him to close and lock the door. “I figure we’ve got thirty, perhaps thirty-five minutes before Filch makes it this deep into the dungeons on his nightly rounds. Let’s make them count, shall we?”

“Absolutely,” Severus readily agreed.

Hermione bit her lower lip for a second, then reached for the top button on her blouse. “I’m afraid I don’t have a negligee with me; but my bra and knickers match, that should be close enough. Unless you’d rather I kept everything on?”

Severus swallowed hard and somehow managed to bring his eyes up to her face rather than continuing to stare at her still fully clothed chest. “Do I look daft? Of course I want to see them—you, I meant you. What heterosexual male wouldn’t want to see your tits?”

He winced, absurdly worried that his crude language might somehow convince her to change her mind.

She laughed. “You’d be surprised. I’m, uh, I’m going to take that as a compliment and just assume you like my breasts.” Hermione continued to flick open her blouse buttons.

“I meant it as one. And I will admit to a certain . . . fondness for your breasts.”

“Well, I like them and that’s what’s really important, don’t you think?” Hermione shrugged out of her blouse and carefully set it on one of the shelves next to a large jar of lionfish spines. Her bra was made of blue lace, and Severus itched to remove it from her.

“It might help if you started getting undressed too?” Hermione teased as she reached for the zipper on her skirt. “At the very least you’re going to need to pull down your trousers.”

“Right. Of course.” Another time he would consider how embarrassingly inane he sounded, but at the moment he was far more concerned with pulling open the buttons on his frock coat as quickly as possible.

He went to push the heavy garment off his shoulders, but Hermione held out her hand to stop him. “No, leave it on. How did you put it? I’ve got a fondness for that coat.”

Considering she was standing before him in nothing but that bra and a matching pair of lace knickers, he wasn’t inclined to argue. Severus pulled open his cravat and immediately set to work unfastening the high collared shirt he wore underneath.

His hands stilled for a short moment when Hermione went to her knees before him. She reached for his fly and Severus redoubled his efforts. He wanted to be able to see every single thing she did to him without his damn shirt getting in the way!

Severus shoved the tails of his shirt and frock coat behind his back and looked down at the wild haired goddess easing his pants and trousers down his thighs. His cock was already erect, and it bobbed toward her with every deep breath he took.

“That’s lovely,” Hermione whispered as she leaned forward to nuzzle her cheek against his length. Severus gasped when she swiped her tongue against the head of his penis, then took him into her mouth.

Merlin’s arse, it was everything he’d imagined (and he had imagined it many, many times since she’d joined the staff at Hogwarts, no matter how hard he’d tried to deny it in the light of day) and more. A thousand times more. Her mouth was hot and wet, so wet; and it slid and pulled at his aroused flesh with just the right pressure to make him groan out her name.

She hummed in approval, the vibration along his cock enough to make his hips jerk uncontrollably.

With one last lick to his glans, Hermione sat back on her heels and coyly looked up at him. “You may want to hold on to something.”

Whether it was a suggestion or a warning, he wasn’t sure. “What do you—Fucking hell!” His knees threatened to buckle when she leaned down and sucked on his bollocks. Severus grabbed the shelves on either side of the small room and prayed to whatever deity was listening that they would hold his weight. Her hand continued to work his cock, pumping up and down in time with the suction on his balls.

She pulled away and he rumbled in protest. Hermione put several fingers in her mouth, then slid her hand between his legs. As she drew the head of his cock between her lips once more, her wet fingers found and rubbed his perineum. He could feel the rough wood of the shelves digging into his palms as he fought not to thrust into her mouth. Severus knew he was getting close.

Then one of her insidiously clever fingers brushed against his arsehole, circling and teasing; and the shelves groaned and threatened to collapse.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” His eyes fluttered closed, the better to feel the tingling sensation building at the base of his spine. His head dropped forward, he no longer had the strength to support it.

Hermione’s fingers wrapped around his shaft and squeezed, holding off his impending orgasm. His eyes popped open, silently pleading with her to let him finish.

“Did she ask you to fuck her?”

“Wha?” Severus tried to form coherent words but everything in him was still focused on her hand on his cock and his need to come.

“Umbridge. Did she ask you to fuck her? Bend her over and take her, right here?” She mischievously grinned up at him.

“No.” Seconds later his brain caught up with his mouth and he started to nod his head like a Hufflepuff who was being offered seconds of pudding. “Yes. She did. Begged me to do it, hard and deep. It was very traumatic. Very.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Hermione released his dick and stood up. She reached behind herself and undid the bra clasp, then pulled the garment off. Seconds later her knickers hit the floor and Severus eagerly began to remove his unbuttoned frock coat and shirt.

Hermione shook her head and growled, “I told you, leave it on.”

Again, a beautiful—and naked, cannot forget naked—woman with an apparent frock coat fetish was standing before him—naked—asking to be fucked.

Easiest decision he’d ever made.

She reached for her wand and aimed the tip at point just below her navel, then whispered the incantation that would prevent pregnancy.

Hermione turned and braced her hands on one of the rungs on the ladder he used to reach the higher shelves. She spread her legs apart, and looked at him over her shoulder. “I need you, Severus. Need to feel you inside me. Make me scream. Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he purred, making a special effort to sound as smooth and dark as possible. Especially considering the less than erotic shuffling step he had to take to get behind her since his trousers were sitting somewhere around his knees. He saw the way she bit her lip in amusement, but she made no comment (for which he was eternally grateful).

To distract her, he slid a hand between her spread legs. His fingers sought and found evidence of her arousal, she was hot and wet to the touch. When he carefully gathered some of that slick heat and used it to circle her clit with the pad of his finger, Hermione shuddered, whispered his name in a way that nearly made him come right there, and gasped, “Need you now.”

“Soon.” He knew with absolute certainty that he wasn’t going to last long, and even if this was a one-off occurrence he was determined to make it good for both of them.

The hand that had been teasing her clit returned to her core. First one, then two long fingers slipped inside. The other hand slid around her waist and down until he could part her cleft, his dexterous index finger brushing against her bundle of nerves.

It wasn’t the most comfortable position for him, contorted around her body like a Venomous Tentacula, but the way she threw her head back and moaned made it all worth it.

Her hand covered his, and she showed him exactly what she needed. In the back of his head, he tried to make note of what she preferred in case he ever had the chance to do this again; but the feel of her arse rocking against his cock was beginning to short circuit his brain.

He started to pump his fingers into her cunt to the rhythm of her hips and their combined touch against her clit.

“Oh God, Severus.” She looked over her shoulder again, her cheeks flushed a beautiful, passionate pink. “I want you inside me when I come.”

She didn’t have to ask twice.

Severus continued to stimulate her clit and used his other hand to press between her shoulder blades, urging her to bend over even further. Then he reached between them to position the head of his cock at her entrance. She was so wet for him that he met almost no resistance as he eased forward. He pulled out, then pushed back in until he was buried to the hilt. They both groaned at the sensation of his cock filling her.

“Good?” he managed to choke out, his body shaking under the strain of holding back until he was absolutely certain she was ready.

“Yes! Fuck me, Severus. Please!”

He grabbed her wrist and guided her hand back between her legs. Her waist was soft under his hands as he slipped his length free from her hot cunt. Then he slammed forward and began to thrust at a hard pace. Hermione started to babble a litany of barely intelligible words that made it clear she was enjoying herself.

At some point she reached back with the hand that had been fingering herself and grabbed the hem of his frock coat that had been swinging against their thighs with every frantic movement. He knew her scent was going to be embedded in the dark cloth, that he’d be able to smell her arousal until he sent the coat to be cleaned by a discrete House-Elf, and the thought nearly set him off.

“Come for me, Hermione. Come on my cock, drown me in your juices, let me feel you.”

She gripped the ladder in front of her with both hands and began to keen his name. The muscles surrounding his cock started to ripple and clench as she came. It took everything in his power to keep them both upright as he had one of the best orgasms of his life, buried balls deep in Hermione Granger.

“Holy fuck, that was . . . wow.” Hermione stepped forward so that she could lean her entire body against the ladder while she tried to catch her breath.

“Eloquently put.” Severus looked at the state of his storeroom; there was clothing strewn about and ingredient bottles tipped over on the shelves. Justin had been right, there was no way he’d ever think of Umbridge in this room again. Not with the mental image of Hermione draped against the ladder as she was, looking thoroughly shagged and sated. “But I agree completely.”

She grinned and reached for her wand, quickly casting a cleansing charm on herself. She gestured toward him, being very careful to keep from pointing her wand directly at him. “Shall I, or would you prefer to do it yourself?”

Normally he was extremely weary of letting other people cast spells—even supposedly benign ones—upon his person, but he was feeling uncharacteristically mellow at the moment. Again, mind blowing orgasm, his mind helpfully supplied. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

He felt a tingle along his bits as her spell did its job, but a quick glance down told him everything was still in place.

Severus bent down to pick up her discarded underthings, and then held them out to her. Once she had them in hand, he began to set himself to rights.

“All better now?”

He looked up from tucking his shirt into his trousers to find that she was already wearing her skirt and had just pulled her blouse on. “Hmm?”

“No more thoughts of Dolores and her pretty pink panties?”

Severus shuddered. “Not until you said that.”

Hermione grinned again and finished buttoning her blouse. “You know, I might have overestimated how well I’ve recovered from walking in on Hooch and Umbridge in the Prefects’ bath. I may need your help, just to return the favour?”

Something inside him rejoiced at her Gryffindorishly unsubtle offer of more sex. He was rather proud of himself for not falling to his knees at her feet and thanking her profusely. Instead, he gravely nodded and began to work on the long line of frock coat buttons. “That only seems fair, after all. Now that I think about it, since we’re helping each other out, I once walked in on Filch and Madam Pince using the Restricted Section of the library as their own personal erotic playroom.”

She gasped, somehow managing to look both horrified at Filch and Pince defiling her favourite spot in the castle and intrigued at the prospect of doing a little defiling of her own. “I saw Crabbe and Goyle in the bleachers of the Quidditch pitch.”

Interesting. He’d never had sex outdoors before, but he was certainly willing to give it a go.

“Caught the portrait of Albus tossing one off in the Headmaster’s Office.” Severus finished adjusting his clothing and held out his hand to Hermione.

She studied his face as she took it. “Really?”

“No. But I have always wanted to have sex on that desk.” He opened the storeroom door and peeked outside to make sure no one was in the corridor. Once he was sure they wouldn’t be observed, he led her out of the room, then used his free hand to close the door and reset his wards.

She waited until he was done to stand up on her tiptoes so that she could whisper in his ear. “Go down on me first, and it’s a deal.”

Severus smirked as he began to lead her down the hall. “That can definitely be arranged.”

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