Part I - In which the Time Turner turns time.
"What, Miss Granger, are you proposing?" Severus Snape turned swiftly to address Hermione.
She had just visited the staffroom to ask him if he would participate in an experiment. All it involved, so she told him, was him putting on a chain.
"It's quite simple, really. There's a charm in this chain, and I'd like to know if it works."
"Why is this of any relevance to me?"
"It's the nature of the charm," she explained, "It's only suited to your personality type. I have it on good authority that no harm will come of it, and it won't be hard for you."
He couldn't deny that he was largely curious. And since it was coming from Hermione, he had to admit that it had most likely been done correctly.
A small voice from inside the staffroom said, "Go on Severus. It will be good for you to do something different for a change."
With a disgruntled huff, he nodded.
She handed over the brass chain, saying, "You might feel a bit funny, but it's all completely natural."
After offering a smile, she left.
Hermione proceeded to tail Severus Snape as he went about his morning, noting the increasing anxiousness he appeared to display.
She watched him until 1p.m., when he left his class to enter his private store cupboard.
From her position at the door, she waited until he was out of sight before removing from her pocket a small brass sand timer.
It was, in fact, a Time Turner; one she had manipulated to work so it did not require the people travelling back to stand within the same chain.
No sooner had Severus closed the door, she noted, did she turn the Time Turner thrice.
Through the keyhole, she saw his class vanish. The hallway in which she stood grew darker, as the sun had not yet risen.
Hermione opened the classroom door, just as Severus left his cupboard.
"What the devil just happened?" he asked, appearing quite dazed and confused as he noted the disappearance of his class.
"We've gone back in time," she explained casually.
"For crying out loud. I never agreed to this," he cursed, walking through his empty classroom towards the exit, "I did not agree to this at all."
Perching on a stool near his desk, Hermione watched apprehensively as he closed the door. She audibly gasped when he locked it, and he turned to her.
"It wouldn't do for the real-time me to walk in," he pointed out, not bothering to look at her.
"I don't suppose it would do for anyone to walk in, really," she replied.
Severus turned to her, his usual frown burrowed in his brow, "Meaning?"
"Meaning that where I come from, it's frowned upon for teachers to be alone with a student in a locked room," she explained.
"And do you suppose why that might be?"
"Any sort of sordid things could be going on."
He hadn't noticed her move, but when she spoke again her voice had come from right behind him.
"We needn't be worried about anything like that, Miss Granger," he answered, glancing behind him fleetingly, "Rest assured, I'll be getting on with my marking and you can reorganise my cupboard alphabetically. We only have three hours to wait. If you finish in the cupboard, you can always clean the floor."
"But Professor…"
This time, he turned completely to look at her. She was closer than he had realised, and far closer than she had any reason to be.
"What?"
"What about all those…sordid affairs?"
"Not. Happening."
He was growing unsure now, no longer confident in his trademark sardonicism, and he took a step backwards.
It was a bad decision, for he was now stood between two adjoining walls of cupboards, and a desk.
"But Sir…" she breathed, her tone a touch softer than it had been, "It already has."
She strode forward to him, eyes fixed on the uncertainty on his face, completely assured in herself. Her gaze never faltered, as she came to stand by him, feeling the fabric of his robe against her hand.
"Hermione-"
It was the first time she had ever heard him say her name, and rather than sober her, it spurred her on.
He had no idea where to look, and so he chose to meet her gaze. Hoping, deep inside, that he might find something in her which would bring her to her senses.
His eyes were still on hers, when he first felt her hand.
Her feet remained fixed on the spot, whilst her hand had followed the trail of the robe which had brushed against it initially. She didn't stop when she felt the brass button on his clothing. Instead, she moved her hand straight past.
Moving downward, this time, her hand followed the fabric until she felt a mound of muscle.
"No-"
A smile toyed at the right side of her lips, and she shook her head.
Rather than comply, her hand massaged the thick material which protected his member from her.
Their eyes were still upon one another's, and he could not believe the position he was in. He tried to move, and though she were not forcing him down, he found that any movement simply pushed himself into her hand.
She continued massaging him, her fingertips curling slightly around him, and her eyes set alight when she felt him move into her hand. He saw it.
After a minute of this, she flipped open one of the decorated buttons with her other hand. This allowed her to move her massaging hand inside his thickest layer of clothing. Her motion never ceased, only now the only thing preventing her from coming into contact with his skin were his long-johns.
Severus winced. His frown had long since dissipated, and now he just looked moderately pained.
The thought of his discomfort made her giggle.
That giggle, a sound so musical and yet so demeaning, sent a wave of pulsations through his member. His thighs twitched, and she began to stop what she was doing.
She withdrew her hand, saying nothing, and began unbuttoning several more of his buttons.
Eventually she could open up the bottom of his robe completely, and she spread it so it folded back.
His chest posed no interest for her, at the moment, and so it remained covered.
He was glad, for he felt slightly protected.
Unfortunately, the relief must have shown on his face, for in a single second she had simply torn the remainder of his robe open.
He groaned in anxiousness, shaking his head in profound refusal. For now, he stood half-leaning against a cupboard and desk. His pale, naked chest was open to the cold air around him. His legs were covered just past his knees, in dirty white thermals. And he was being judged.
He was at her mercy.
After a brief appraisal, Hermione's hand returned to his crotch. Much smaller, she noted, now that the robe was not in the way.
She tutted in disapproval.
His gaze eyes returned to her face again, after having dropped to observe his predicament, and what he saw unnerved him.
She looked disappointed, as though she had expected something much more, and in that instant the thought hurt him.
Though she knew he was looking at her, she ignored him. Instead, she began to pull down his long-johns.
As she did so, several hairs began to poke out. Followed by a whole load more.
She laughed, audibly, as she finished pulling baring him. His flaccid member was small, more so than she had imagined – for she had, of course, imagined – and the bush around it only made it seem smaller.
Severus moved as though to shield himself, but before he could, she had cast a charm wrapping his robe around him in a way which kept back his arms, and forced aside his legs. The wand he had not known she was carrying, was put aside.
It was only then that her laughter began to fade, paving the way for deep chuckles instead.
"Pathetic."
With that, she slapped his member.
He gasped in surprise.
"Just pathetic," she said again, smacking him again.
He groaned this time, as it had stung, and before he had finished making the sound she had done it again. This time, her palm had hit the head of his member and he cried out in pain.
She smiled, he noted, and it looked almost sympathetic. Their eyes met again, then, and he parted his lips to ask her to stop, when she slapped it again.
The pain flickered across his face; once...twice…a third time.
By now, his member was glowing red, though it remained flaccid.
"There, there..." she said, hitting him once more before massaging him again. Her massages were heavy and rough, his foreskin moved in response.
As her hand grew moist with the warmth, so did his member and soon there was blood rushing through. He grew harder as she continued to massage him, and his winces of pain turned to moans of pleasure; of need, and desire.
He knew she was in control, and now he couldn't want for anything more.
Without ceasing her movement, she began to crouch before him.
He knew what was coming next – who would be coming next – and his breath hitched in anticipation. All he needed now, all he wanted was-
Her lips wrapped around the head of his semi-erect member. She sucked on him, like a lolly, making little noises as she did.
Before she had had chance to get her mouth around the rest of him, he was completely hard.
The stung, red member was pulsating in her mouth.
Her tongue tapped the very end, stroking his tip, before she plunged herself along the length. He fit in her mouth easily, the tight, moist vibrations destroying the very essence of his attempted composure.
His fingers were curled into his palm, there was sweat beading on his brow and hands, desperately clinging onto himself as he grew increasingly needy.
She was bobbing her head on him now, rhythmically and hastily as she brought him closer to an orgasm. Her hands were massaging his thighs, and every now and then her fingers would brush against his testicles; inflamed and ready.
He was going to come, it was unavoidable, and he could see the pre-come already caught upon her lip.
The sight was enough, and then-
"Fuck, oh. No, please!"
She had caught her teeth in his raw, hot foreskin just as his seed had shot to her tonsils. Instead of the blasting orgasm he had anticipated, he was faced with the pain of her teeth nipping his flesh. His seed came out in short bursts, and he groaned in agony.
He was so desperate to come more, wholly, and incapable of touching himself. It pained him, and it showed on his face.
His member was still semi-hard, when Hermione sat back.
"I'll finish the job, but first you are-"
She was interrupted, when a familiar voice spoke outside.
"Alohomora."
It was Snape, in real time, coming for his class.
There was only one door they could go through, and Hermione headed immediately for the cupboard.
"Help me," the naked Severus whispered urgently; he wasn't sure what would happen if he walked in on himself; naked and restrained at the back of his own classroom.
The door was opening when Hermione released her spell on him, and the naked Severus shuffled inasmuch as he could with his thermal trousers around his ankles, to the cupboard.
The cupboard door closed just as the classroom door hit the wall.
"Ssh," he warned her, as the outside-Snape began to introduce Gillyweed.
His member was still free, red and oozing, but he at that moment he was trying to think about whether it was likely he would visit his cupboard.
"You look a bit sad there," she noted, her finger pointing towards his feeble member, "Would you like to finish properly?"
He wasn't sure he did, considering what was at stake, but his member gave away his deep thoughts as it twitched in response.
"I think not," he replied, without meeting her eyes.
"Oh," she feigned a look of indignation, pouting as she retreated into the furthest corner of the cupboard.
Without another word to him, she lowered herself into a squat on the floor.
He glanced sideways at her.
"Is that it?" he asked suspiciously, though when she ignored him he tutted and instead asked, "Aren't you at least going to release my hands from these bonds? Clothe me?"
She giggled again, then, and he suppressed a shudder.
He watched, frustrated in every sense as she settled herself close to the ground. It was only when she moved her hand from its place on the floor, to rub the front of her skirt that he figured out what else she had in mind.
Stood frozen, Severus watched curiously as Hermione began rubbing her clit through the material. Just as she had begun with him, he noted, struggling to keep his mind on something mundane so as to prevent his intrigue becoming more evident.
Her three fingers expertly shaped around her, as she teased herself into making small, distinct moans.
Severus watched in avid amazement as she pleasured herself, his neglected member leaking slightly as it grew wholly erect again.
Hermione's little cries as she taunted herself with an orgasm, before drawing herself away, pulsated through him.
His mouth mimicked the 'O' hers had formed, as he imagined her mouth back on his member, with he helping her in her own desire.
At one point, she let out a distinct cry. At this, he cast an anxious glance towards the door through which his other self was educating the markedly incompetent, though at no point did anyone come through.
After a moment of intense massaging, she opened her eyes.
With the hand she had been using upon herself, she motioned for him to approach.
He did so, apprehensively, and stopped when she directed him to.
From her place on the floor, she rose. She stepped over to him, and firmly grasped his erect member in her hand.
This time, it was his turn to audibly groan. He leant back against the shelf, moving pre-prepared vials of a blue potion with his elbows.
She did not move her hand in the slightest, instead she opted to remain stood there holding him, as she removed her tights with the other hand.
Their eyes never met. His stared down at the mass of curly hair upon her head, whilst she watched to ensure her clothing freed her enough to proceed.
Once ready, Hermione released him without a word, and reached behind him to hold on to the shelf. As she steadied herself, she climbed the onto the first shelf until she was mounting him where he stood.
His head was level with her breasts, and he couldn't prevent his nose from touching her nipple where it poked through her shirt and her laced bra.
Gradually, she lowered herself onto him, shuffling slightly to ensure his member slid inside her moist entrance.
They each released a simultaneous moan as this happened, though she did not pause to enjoy the process before she had stood upright again until he had left her.
The frown on his face echoed the deprived anxiety he could feel through his member, reprieved only when she lowered herself back onto him.
She repeated this, until she was thrusting herself onto him at an unparalleled rate. Her pussy grew wetter and wetter, and soon the cupboard echoed with the slaps of his member as it re-entered her time and time again.
The whiteness of her knuckles stood out as she clung to the shelving behind him; his hands still restrained, and his feet still trapped by his clothing.
Their cries were only half held back, as they each grew closer and closer to an exhilarating orgasm.
Blood pounded in his ears, making few sounds other than those of her moans audible.
She revelled in the control he was losing, but became far too preoccupied with her own orgasm to wish to tease him as she had done previously.
There was nothing holding her back as she came with a relieved cry; her juice leaving her as her pussy continued to pulse around him in relief.
He came too, she noted, with an uncharacteristic grunt and a cry. Both their juices mingled, flowing back down her entrance along both their thighs.
She hopped back from him and the shelving, and widened her eyes in surprise; there in the doorway, with his billowing cloak preventing the rest of the classroom from being visible, stood the real-time Severus Snape.
He was unusually flushed, and had his hand at his crotch where a moist patch was appeared to have suddenly grown.
His eyes met those of the time-travelled Severus, with his flesh bare and his hands restrained, and then he glanced at Hermione. Before he could begin to speak, however, he had vanished.
"Professor," she pointed out casually to the man she had just come with, "I think we've made up the time. There's only one of you, now. And…there is a class out there waiting for you."
Even as she released the binds from his hands, he remained frozen where he stood.
"Severus," she said, reaching over to dig her nails into his foreskin (because it was much more fun than pinching his ear), "I'm going."
The pain brought him back to his senses, as it ought, and he began pulling up his trousers, catching the drops of their juices from his legs as he did. He said nothing to her, only mentally cursed himself for having got into such an outrageous predicament.
"I really should point out that this won't be happening again," she announced as she tied back her hair, "Besides, Sirius was much more receptive."
Then without warning, Hermione opened the cupboard door wide and left the room.
It was left to Severus to explain to a class of fourteen-year-olds why he had returned from his apparently brief excursion to the cupboard missing three buttons from his cloak, and how he had ended up with a girl in there too.
But of course, he wasn't entirely sure himself.
=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=
Part two will tell of how "real time Snape" was affected by what occurred. As has been hinted, it proved quite hard for him.
See you all in hell x :D
R&R, pretty please!