Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from the books or the movies. That privilege belongs to the gracious J.K. Rowling. I do not make any money from writing of this story. Again, that privilege belongs to the gracious J.K. Rowling.
Nothing Good Comes Out After Dark
It was 2:10 in the morning and all the occupants of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were sound asleep, all expect one. Hermione Granger walked to the cold, drafty dungeons, which was the private quarters of one Potions Master Severus Snape. Throughout Hogwarts, Hermione was the Bookworm of Gryffindor, Miss Know-It-All. In fact, her intelligence was the reason she was heading to the snaky Potion Master's room at the wee hours of the night. Hermione was creating a potion that was the equivalent of the Draught of the Living Dead but it had a set time of a person's deep sleep period.
She had the asphodel in an infusion of wormwood, valerian roots, and the sopophorues beans. She even remembered Harry telling her to crush the beans rather than cutting them and forgetting a clockwise stir, (not that she would ever tell Harry that she listened to him). Her guess was to reduce the juice used in the potion. Yet, even with her guess she wasn't sure and wanted a second opinion from somebody who had experience, thus why she was doing out after curfew on a Friday night. She was still in her school uniform, a white blouse with the Gryffindor symbol, her scarlet and gold tie, her gray skirt, her gray knee high socks, and her black Mary Jane shoes. As soon as she reached her destination, she inhaling deeply, Hermione hesitantly knocked on the door, hoping he was up.
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Severus Snape sat in a green, plush chair drinking a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey. The burning liquid flowed down his throat and settled in his stomach. Snape heard a poof but concluded that he was slowly loosing his mind and continued to drink. After finishing the contents, he left the bottle dropped to the floor where it clinked, indicating that other empty bottles were present. The Firewhiskey only did half its job though, yes, he was drunk but he still heard the screams in his mind.
He had just come from a revel. Snape was not like his fellow Death Eaters. He did not take pleasure in raping young teenagers, which was a despicable act. Instead, Voldermort forced to watch men like McNair, Rowle, Doholov, and Malfoy forced themselves on helpless girls. Their screams were soul shattering; a person with no emotions had to be able to stand such a noise. The girls were passed around form men to men until they came to him. They begged to die and he granted them that wish.
Voldermort saw this and forced Snape to do what he had been trying to avoid. The Dark Lord led Severus to a room while the other death eaters followed. The room was lit and its only occupant was a young naked girl. The girl had long curly brown hair and brown eyes. They silently pleaded with the potion master yet if he knew he made no movement. "Well Severus? Is she to your liking?" the Dark Lord asked. "Yes, my lord." Severus replied. The other deaths cheered Snape on as he grabbed the girl by her locks and straddled her. He unzipped his black pants and unsheathed his long, pulsating member. "No, please stop." the girl screamed as he penetrated her. He felt a barrier; she was still a virgin. Yet, there was nothing he could do to avoid it. He had to tear through it. The unfortunate girl screamed as Snape tore her maidenhood. His thrusting and her screams were the source of the crowd's amusement. They cheered and jeered Snape on as he continued. Reaching his peak, Snape pulled out and ejaculated, his cum smeared on the girl's stomach and face. The crowd came and congratulated Snape; some patted him on the back some whistled. Donholov came up to Snape and put a hand on his shoulder, "Man, Snape, none of us thought you had it in you." Snape simply looked at him and turned around. The girl was sniffling, "Please kill me!" the girl wailed. Snape drew out his wand and raised it. "Avada Kedavra" Snape shouted. A jet of green light shot out and hit the girl straight in the chest. She fell back and moved no more. Another round of cheers filled the room. After Voldermort granted him permission to leave, Snape apparated back to his private quarters. Throwing his robs to the floor, he automatically grabbed his first of many Firewhiskeys.