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Yule Ball: Part IV - Professor Snape x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: Following the close call under the table, Snape takes you down a corridor to teach you your final lesson at Hogwarts. Lucius Malfoy overhears nearby, and is more than interested.

Notes: The last part of Yule Ball series, commissioned by the lovely @andispyral :)

It had been 4 days since the incident under the table. Snape still hadn’t fully forgiven you, but you knew he’d come around. Angry Professor Snape wasn’t much different than regular Professor Snape, so in your books, things were tolerable.

End of year examinations are coming up, which means you only have two months left of your time at Hogwarts. It’s a bittersweet feeling, but the excitement for your future outweighs the sadness of leaving it all behind. Everything you’ve learned here has culminated into this, and you’re top of your class in nearly everything. Potions is the only class your grade is less than satisfactory... despite fucking the potions professor, you suppose his morals decided to check in only when grading your cauldrons. Typical.

You sift through the books in your arms, organizing them as you walk. Today is the day some of the parents of Wizarding families visited Hogwarts to discuss their child’s progress with the professors. It was mostly purebloods that showed up for these things, which was to be expected. Muggle families would get lost for years in the school you had come to call home.

Since you’re a model student, it had been suggested by your head of house that you help out with the professors this year in getting family files together for the conferences. The morning had been full of work for you, especially since Malfoy’s father had treated you like his own personal house elf.

It was a curious thing; Lucius had kept his gaze on you most of the time while you stood behind the professors. He seemed to be boring a hole straight through you—you don’t understand why he would have such contempt for you. You’d never been rude to his beloved son, god forbid, let alone even spoken to him more than five times. You hadn’t hated the attention. There was something strangely striking about the man that drew you in for the fraction of a moment. No matter. Lucius was on his way back to his grand manor now, never to see you again.

As you’re walking, you don’t notice a foot come out. You trip, books sprawling out, and you catch yourself on the one person who caused the mess. You look up in the arms of the potions professor himself, to his face leering down at you.

“What a mess,” he tuts, raising an eyebrow. “Clumsy girl.” You scoff.

“No way. Professor or not, you can’t—”

“Hush,” he mutters, tugging you by the wrist down the lonely corridor. It’s lit by one single torch, burning dim. “You never quite know how to keep your voice down, do you?”

“I’d say I did a good job last week,” you retort. His lips turn up ever so slightly, and you try to turn back to clean up the books.

“Leave them,” he says sharply. “I pulled you aside for a reason.”

“Tripped me.”

“If someone were to be watching, they would see you trip, not follow my voice down a corridor,” he replied, “Something like this has to look natural, as I’m sure you thought to ensure with your head between my legs last week.”

You giggle. “I didn’t need to look natural. You saved me with that invisibility potion.”

“Hm. The things I do for affection.”

“Self preservation, more like,” you tease.

“I didn’t wish for you to get caught either.” The flame of the torch lit the side of his face, casting his left cheek in the shadow of his prominent nose. He lifts his chin. “As we have determined this isn’t going away anytime soon, I have a proposition.” You glance down to his robes, already desperate to get them off. He quirks that eyebrow again. “In a rush?”

“I’ve learned to be,” you whisper, licking your bottom lip. He gives a disapproving hum, but his eyes betray the sentiment. They’re roaming over you too.

“Get this silly robe off. Bear yourself to me.”

“I’m not getting naked in the halls.”

“You did in a closet.”

“I was getting changed!”

“Have you forgotten who you’re speaking to?” Snape asks. You swallow.

“I was getting changed, professor.”

“Hm,” he strokes your hair out of your eye. “Then get changed, Miss (y/l/n).” Your hesitance surprises him. “Worried someone will come along and hear us? Find us here?” He huffs. “I have significantly more at stake than you do, and yet...” His lips form a tight line, eyes fond at the same time, “...Here I am, encouraging all this.”

Smirking, you start to strip your clothes off. As you’re sliding your robes off, Snape watches closely, dark eyes scrutinizing every move you make. Your uniform shirt had been unbuttoned under the robes and tie loosened from the heat of the classroom, and you silently thank yourself for it.

“Unbutton them all,” he instructs. His chin lifts as his eyes drift down. You do as he says, unbuttoning the shirt all the way down to expose the bra you have on underneath. Snape reaches out to cup your breasts, eyes darkening.

“Fuck me?” you whisper.

He lifts your skirt, dragging his thumb along your upper thigh. You shiver, chewing on your bottom lip. Snape pulls you into his arms, cloak draped around you. You reach forward to unzip him, and snake a hand inside his pants. You can feel that he’s already half hard. He groans as you lick your palm with your other hand, and take him out, starting to stroke him slowly.

“You want me between your legs again?” You nod hurriedly, desperately. “Then spread them for me,” he groans. You grip his shoulders, and Snape takes one of your legs up, sinking carefully inside you. Your head falls back as he stretches you open, inch by inch. Anyone could happen upon you two at any time, find Snape deep inside you. You’d lasted this long for the year without getting caught—you stifle a breath of his name, determined to keep it that way.

Lucius Malfoy walks down the corridor, footsteps echoing along with his cane hit the ground harder than necessary. Dumbledore was still as biased toward his Gryffindors as always, and it never failed to get under his skin how that was one advantage he could never give his son. If only someone more inclined to the darker side of things was headmaster. Someone like...

The deatheater scowls as he walked. Severus.

Severus wasn’t horrible. Lucius had known him back in school, and though he was quiet even now, the man seemed committed to the dark arts. If he was Headmaster, maybe Draco could reach his full potential, and make his family proud.

That got him thinking about the rest of the students at this infernal school. Harry Potter, the meddler, was a pinpoint for most of his stress, but one face more in particular caught the web of his mind.

Miss (y/l/n).That’s what he had heard you called in the room. A seventh year, just about to graduate from Hogwarts. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her the entire time he was speaking to the professors of his son’s abysmal education. She was everything he admired. Classic looks, manners, something mysterious behind the eyes. Lucius felt intoxicated thinking about her.

But, she likely had some boyfriend her own age here, a blithering fool who would leave her once they graduated. He sniffed, trying to get this out of his mind. She would do well to look for someone like himself, someone with status who kept up appearances. Appearance was everything.

As he’s walking, he hears the unmistakeable noise of someone hiding down the dimly lit corridor. Not one for announcing his presence quite so belligerently, Lucius pauses with grace, leaning against the wall to listen. He isn’t about to turn down free secrets. As he continues to listen however, he notices that the noises sound like moans. His lips part, brow furrowing. Two students? About to walk off with a disinterested sneer, he stops as he hears your voice.

It’s her.

Listening closer, Lucius' hand moves of its own accord down to his pants, where he grips himself. He’s already filling them out, from the sounds of your moans alone. Just knowing it’s you... but who are you with? The boyfriend he had imagined?

Lucius palms himself harder, as visions of making you moan like that fill his head.

"Yeah," you whisper to Snape, too quiet a sound for anyone else to hear. "Please..."

"No begging. I am in control of this,” Snape growls, trailing his hand down your body. “I shouldn’t let you come for what you did. What if I didn’t?”

"I'd tell you that I have two months of school left and you won't be my Professor for much longer."

"That doesn't mean this cunt isn’t mine," Snape says, his finger trailing down between your legs to help you along. Your breath hitches as he starts to rub your clit gently in circles.

“Professor,” you gasp.

“What happened to little miss graduate?” he murmured, pursing his lips. “I’m only your professor for two more months.” You stifle your moan, trying to think of a witty comeback. All you can do is grind down on him. Snape hisses as you reciprocate, picking up his pace. He’s stretching you as he goes deeper with each thrust, rocking you up to your toes.

“Hold me when you make me come?” you breathe. Snape looks curiously down into your eyes, and gives the slightest of nods. Your lips part as he gives a powerful thrust, and you can’t hold the moan back this time.

“Say my name,” Snape whispers, a sobered hesitance in his voice. “I like it when you do.” You bite your lip, looping your hands around his neck. He reaches down to pick you up, and hold you up against the wall as he rocks his hips into you.

“Severus,” you breathe, pressing your forehead against his. Your legs tighten around his back, and his eyes slide closed, revelling in the feeling of sinking into you and chasing your pleasure. From his position listening, a shock runs through Lucius. Severus? That pretty young thing was fucking Severus Snape, her professor? His cock twitches in his pants, and he stifles a groan. Somehow that made it so much more arousing. Unable to deny himself the relief any longer, the head of the Malfoy family reaches into his pants, taking his cock out in one stroke. He’s fully hard now, a drop of precum leaking down the shaft and mixing with what had been smeared by keeping it tucked away. He gives one stroke, then loses all self control as his hand speeds up.

“Severus,” you repeat his name in another moan, softer this time. You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and drag your bottom lip against his. You ghost your lips over his again, teasing them against his. Snape’s eyebrows knit, and his fists clench as he braces one against the wall, holding you up. “Severus,” you say one last time, “I never want you to let me go.” He takes the back of your head, guiding you in for a searing kiss. You feel his teeth drag along your lip, and you let his tongue enter your mouth. You’d lose the battle for dominance anyway.

Lucius bites his fist, trying to stroke himself as quietly as possible. He can hear his own pants rustle as he brings his fist down, and it doesn’t help that he’s still wearing his gloves, but that’s better than leaving the evidence on his hands. He could toss them to one of the house elves, and make sure they disposed of them promptly. His hands, he would have to wash thoroughly, and he wasn’t about to use a filthy Hogwarts bathroom to do so.

“No matter where you go,” Snape growls out, pounding into you harder now, “No matter what you do... you will always belong to me. Do you hear me?”

“I know,” you breathe, brain clouded with arousal and the desperation to cum. “I’m yours.”

“Tell me again,” he enunciates, lips curling up into a snarl. “Remind me.”

“I’m yours, Severus,” you gasp. “I’m so close, I’m so close, cum inside of me, please—”

“You’re lucky I’m feeling forgiving. Do you need to come? I can feel that you do.” Your moan rings out unbridled through the corridor, pleasure evident as Snape’s low grunts add to the myriad of echoes. “I shouldn’t be rewarding you after nearly getting me dishonourably tossed from this school.” Even while getting fucked, you have the nerve to respond sharply.

“I think you should be rewarding me for how well I apparate.”

“Do I look like the Charms professor to you?” Snape grumbled.

“Well, I’m not about to fuck Professor Flitwick.” Jealously floods Snape as he unfortunately pictures this. You notice the shift in his disposition. “Would you like that?” you whisper, trailing your lips up his jaw. “Watching someone else fuck me? Make me come? Just watching, as someone else enjoys this pussy?” Your mouth falls open as you feel him fall victim to your bait. “How about Lucius Malfoy fucking me, taking me from behind and spanking me with that cane of his?”

Lucius bites his fist as he squeezes the tip of his cock, mouth dropping agape. He comes into his hand, letting out the faintest trace of an airy moan as he imagines just what you had described. Him behind you, stroking your back, watching you fuck back onto his cock and beg for it. His cane on your ass, teaching you a lesson. I can fuck you better than Severus can. He beats a fist against the wall, another rope shooting into his hand.

The feeling of Snape pounding you once more sends you over the edge, and you feel him fill you at the same time. You gasp, hanging onto his back. He presses his lips to your neck, rocking you against the wall until you can’t take any more of him. “I only want you, Professor,” you whisper into his ear, and he lets out a breath, the last of his orgasm waning. He sets you down, and catches you again as your knees knock together—you can feel his seed begin to drip down your thigh. He narrows his eyes at you, straightening his clothes.

“How is it, that this always ends with me between your legs?”

“It ended a little different today,” you pant, leaning into his arms. “With you dripping out of me.” You wiggle your hips, Snape gives that twitch of a smile again, but jerks his chin up suddenly. He whips out his wand, tucks himself up quickly, and moves you behind him protectively.

“Lumos,” he whispers, and blue lights up the hallway.

“What is it?”

“Show yourself,” Snape mutters into the dark, and your heartbeat picks up. Had someone been watching. What if it was another professor? Lucius listens, eyes widening. He quickly rights himself, lifts his chin. He’d have more dignity if he revealed himself first... and he wasn’t about to let Snivellus get the best of him.

“Severus,” he says tightly, managing a polite albeit pompous smile. “And... Miss (y/l/n), what have we here?”

“It is none of your business, Malfoy,” Snape enunciates. “Now, I suggest you—”

“What a predicament I’m in, Snape,” Lucius continues. His eyes dart down your body, and your face heats up in a blush. You pull your robe closed slightly in embarrassment, as the blonde man admires the sight quite blatantly. “You see, now that I have this information on you and your little pet, I can see to it that Draco is treated fairly from this day forward.”

“Pardon me?” Snape deadpans. You have to hold back a laugh at the utter disbelief in his eyes. “Mr. Malfoy, do I look like Professor Dumbledore to you?” Lucius’ jaw clenches.

“You are answerable to him—”

“Rarely does he meddle in my methods of teaching, one of those being the priority I give to those in my own house,” Snape says slowly, and hides you further behind him. “With some exceptions. I may give Mr. Potter a challenge, but your son, if anything, has quite the advantage... thanks to you.”

“That’s not what Draco tells me,” Lucius drawls. “Need I remind you, Snape, my family is one of the oldest pure bloodlines in the Wizarding World. You know the power I hold.” Surprising both you and Mr. Malfoy, Snape steps right into the other man’s face, glowering.

“You don’t know what power I hold myself, Lucius. I suggest for your sake, you never find out.”

“Is that a threat?” Lucius scoffs. Snape takes out his wand, and twists it against the blonde’s chin.

“The wand at your chin would suggest it is.” Lucius glares over his shoulder at you, then back at Severus. He brings his arms up to knock the wand out of his face. He raises his own wand in threat, and Severus simply looks at him with an expression of pity, getting even closer so you can’t hear. “Do remember, Malfoy. The Dark Lord is coming. And when he does, he’ll come to me first.” Instantly, you notice Lucius’ body language shift. He shrinks a couple of inches, and swallows nervously. You wonder what Snape could have said to the man with the insufferable superiority complex—a complex that ran in the family.

“A pleasure, Miss (y/l/n),” Lucius bows his head to you, pursing his lips bitterly. “Though not one I would have preferred.” He snatches his cane back up, and whirls around, leaving. You take Snape’s arm, and he places a hand over yours on it.

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing of your concern.”

You’re reminded in an instant of that day Snape had found you at the Yule Ball, what he had been talking about with Karkaroff. You decide to let it slip. “I’m going to miss this, Professor.”

“What, torrid affairs in romantically lit hallways?” Snape asks, rolling his eyes. You huff a laugh, getting closer to him.

“Us. I’m going to miss you.”

Snape looks at you through the hair that’s fallen into his eyes. “You know you’ll always be welcome in my classroom.”

“Mm.” A smile develops on your face. “You know, I’m also going to miss your classes.”

Snape looks down at you, raising an eyebrow. He squeezes your hand. “Do you know, in all my years of teaching at Hogwarts... no one has ever said that to me.” He kisses the top of your head. “Remember what I said, my love. No matter where you go, or what you do. You’re mine.”

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