Beast
A story by Lazybones
Translated by ewigestudentin with author's permission.
You can find the original here: tinyurl (insert dot here) com / beast-original (you have to be logged in to see mature content).
Many thanks to FFFG for looking over this story and putting up with my never ending questions.
Her candle flickers weakly in the darkness of the dungeon. She knows every inch of the vast room, for she's been coming down every day for the past two months and four days now. She had found the professor in an abandoned underground passage – barely alive and with a horrendous wound on his neck, dying from Nagini's venom. She decided to nurse him back to health in secret since he'd still been considered a traitor, and the only sentence for those was a Dementor's kiss.
She's been brewing potions, inserting sutures, applying compresses; feeding and washing him; talking to him. Once the professor could speak again, he told her about the bezoar and the universal antidote that hadn't let him die right away; however, he didn't know how he'd ended up in Hogwarts. The castle had probably summoned its Headmaster.
It took him a mere fortnight to recover enough to be able to tend to himself, and he immediately attempted to chase her away. She left only to return two days later. The professor cursed and scowled but was clearly relieved to see her again.
It became obvious around that time that the venom brought about irreversible changes in his body. Fine golden scales began spreading across his skin, eyes kept getting lighter, faint hissing slipped out ever so often in his speech. She'd been camping in the library hoping to find a way to put a halt to the transformation. The term hasn't started yet so she could still supply the professor with a steady flow of books and notes.
A month passed. When he found her bawling her eyes out over yet another worthless potion, he suddenly, unexpectedly, patted her softly on the head. Hermione froze under his touch; the professor stopped in his tracks, his hand jerking away. She sprang up from her bench and stared at him; he ignored her reaction and instead showed her an ancient grimoire she'd brought down a couple of days earlier.
"It says here that Pharaoh Tutankhamun's healer deemed Elapidae's venom sacred. Apparently it unlocks dormant powers and makes one closer to gods."
She clung to this idea, believing the changes in him benign. She doubled her research efforts, hoping – dreaming – that everything would turn out alright. But then he began forgetting her name, ceased responding to "professor" or "Sir" and didn't even notice a timid "Severus". He often broke off mid-sentence, kept reading the same passages to her and switched to hissing in the middle of a conversation. He also took on circling her, burying his face in her hair, sending shivers down her spine while cold fingers with blackened nails caressed her dainty wrists.
Three days ago she spotted a flicker of a tail beneath his robes and has been crying over that for countless hours in the privacy of her bedroom. He's been losing his human appearance too quickly, the transformation has progressed too far; it's been too hard not to give in.
When she entered the dungeon hall yesterday she was petrified: the professor stood there completely naked. He appeared half-man, half-snake with a lithe muscular torso and a massive serpentine tail. He closed the distance between them and coiled around her, making her flush awfully. His face was blank, only his eyes bore into her hungrily. Hermione reached out, put her hands on his shoulders and turned up her face, waiting for a kiss.
"Mine," a hiss reverberated in the vast hall.
His lips came closer and a pink forked tongue slipped out. Hermione couldn't help but remember seeing Nagini leaping from Bathilda Bagshot's body. She backed away in terror and the image dissolved. She escaped his coils and ran away, making her way upstairs to stand under the pelting rivulets in the shower for the longest time, cursing herself for falling for a beast and swearing to put him out of her mind. Yet she could barely wait for the next night.
Today she enters the hall and feels small bones crunching under her heel. The professor's face swims in candlelight like an ugly mask. She suddenly despises Gryffindor colors, for golden fingers clutch the bleeding body of a rat. Crimson droplets trickle from either corner of his mouth.
She almost doubles over sick when the rat's tail twitches: the animal is still alive.
"Beast," she mouths mutely.
Golden gaze pins her down and strong fingers dive into her hair a moment later, squeezing painfully. She looks at his lips – those thin pale lips framed by the finest scales that glimmer like white gold. Her eyes travel slowly upwards and she melts under his burning gaze. His hissing mesmerizes and she seems to discern the familiar voice.
"I can't be saved, Hermione, and I'm getting dangerous. I eat rats because I savor their squeaks, their warm blood, the crunching of their delicate bones."
His skin shimmers in candlelight. She enjoys running her hands over his forearms and torso. He seems to be forged out of pure gold – cool, solid, irresistible. But unlike metal, his skin is faintly coarse: fine scales tickle her palms. The hair on the back of her neck stands on end; shivers run down her spine, her nipples are painfully erect and rub against her shirt.
"Professor," she hears her own half-moan, half-gasp.
He's motionless like an ancient idol. His eyes are golden irises with vertical slits; they don't stray from her face. His own face is a mask of stone; it's coming closer and closer until black hair brushes her cheek. She flexes her body, pushes her jeans-clad mons towards his tail and feels coldness. The seam of her jeans is right above her clit and she squirms impatiently, trying to intensify the contact.
"Professor," she moans louder when his forked tongue touches her lips.
Icy palms grasp her waist, slide higher, and squeeze her breasts. She regards his frozen countenance with hooded eyes. Deep inside she struggles to cry out, Severus! but can only whisper, "Professor".
Strong fingers deftly unbutton her shirt, and she whimpers impatiently from ever growing heat.
Then her shirt is ripped away, closely followed by her belt. While he's fiddling with the zipper, she puts her hands on the either side of his head and pulls him closer, searching his lips, flicking her tongue over the scales. He tastes splendidly – salty tartness with a hint of copper. Blood, she remembers and moans contentedly. She bucks when scaly fingers find her clit, pressing and twisting slightly. The heat pools in her crotch and she squeezes her knees, desperate to bring the caressing hand nearer.
He hisses indistinctly and before she knows it his tail coils around her waist tightly, lifting her into the air. The tail holds her in a firm grip, his hands on her hips pull her closer and closer, and his forked tongue brushes her thigh. She shivers uncontrollably, her moans turn into gasps and she tweaks her nipples sharply.
"Please, please…" she begs again and again.
Coarse lips kiss her belly, her mons, move even lower. The professor hisses and covers her opening with his mouth. Her whole body tenses in shattering orgasm. The light goes dim and she hears her own cry: "Severus! Severus! Severus!"
"Mine", he seconds with a contented hiss, almost rumble. His fingers don't let go, they keep tearing at her sensitive flesh and it almost hurts…
"Wait", she whispers, but persistent fingers slide inside, tickle her inner walls and smear her thighs with her juices. His forked tongue laps at her clit. The multitude of sensations is overwhelming and pain turns into pleasure. Her second peak is even more vivid than the first one, and she can barely breathe in the solid coil of his tail. Meanwhile his tongue reaches even further in, sinks deeper, licking her out again and again.
"Stop it, please!" She tries to break free but the hold doesn't give. She hits his tail with all her might but hears only his annoyed grumble. "It hurts! Enough!"
Her crotch is on fire, her nipples ache and she's out of breath.
He lifts his head and fixates her with a long, unmoving gaze. His beloved face glistens with her juices, and she feels the stirring of desire. His tail now coils twice around her. Her nipples grow hard at the cold slithering touch and everything inside clenches sweetly. She throws back her head and utters a long moan.
The snake's head dips and sharp backward-curving teeth pierce her thigh. One more coil goes around her neck, constricting tighter with every breath.
"Love you," she whispers, sinking into darkness.
"Tasssty," the snake rumbles, breaking her spine and lapping crimson blood.