alex244
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Potions for Prodigiously Prolific Pollination by alex244
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
04 Jul 2026
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Summary
“Did I not specifically instruct you, Miss Granger,” hisses the six skinny feet of batlike Potions master pinning her against the tiled wall, “to add the powdered bicorn horn after the skin of boomslang?”
It definitely ranks, Hermione thinks, as the strangest conversation she’s had whilst someone wages a feverish war on the buttons of her robes. Barely able to concentrate on his words over the thumping of her heart, racing like a rampaging erumpent in heat. “I didn’t realise the potion would react like-”
Like a rapturous pulsing pink whirlpool, ejaculating a hot geyser of silky-thick potion ceilingward to drench them both, sizzling through the cauldron to lap at their shoes. "Like some sort of aphrodisiac?"
Hermione thinks that Snape's groan-sigh it might be the most erotic sound she’s ever heard, as he pulls back with an effort that looks as though it might be more fatal than the cursed snakebite he improbably survived in the Shrieking Shack a year ago.
“Not just any aphrodisiac, Miss Granger. The most potent and deadly aphrodisiac known to wizardkind.”
Hermione's NEWT potions brewing goes badly wrong. Or right!
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Lurching through the shadows like his bloodied drunk of a father stumbling home to Spinner’s End in his childhood nightmares. His vision swimming, echoing screams searing like a branding iron through his psyche. Curse sparks and an acrid haze of green smoke, through the eyelets of his mask.
Finally slumping against the cracked paint of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place’s front door. The taunting irony that his one place of refuge was fucking Black’s house; grim satisfaction in voiding the bile in his stomach into the bushes before he shoved through the sting of the wards.
“Severus-”
He’d have given every ill-gotten galleon in Lucius Malfoy's Gringotts vault for the house to be empty. Save, he supposed, for the inevitability of its flea-bitten mongrel of an owner sulking drunkenly through his house arrest licking his own bollocks. But of course Minerva was there, because the sadistic ancient crones who spun the gnarled-up threads of fate would never tire of tormenting Severus for all of his wrongs.
A Half-Blood Prince missing scene; hurt, comfort, love, and loss in wartime.
Series
- Part 9 of Snape, Snape, Severus Snape
- Part 4 of HP rarepairs
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Summary
On the fifth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, Ginny Weasley, forever in the shadow of her former fiancé, is hiding in a Muggle bar and drinking to forget.
So, when she falls into the lap of a mysterious, morose, dark-haired stranger for whom the day holds demons of its own, what better one-night panacea could there be?
Even if he does seem strangely familiar...
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Summary
Reality’s spinning, the air’s too close. Smoky and sticky and imbued with a sort of humid fury.
He’s off his face, in a way he doesn’t think he’s been for years. Drowning in the febrile atmosphere of the sort of dangerous night in a rundown pub he remembers from the sordid desperation of his youth. Nights that ended up with scuffed leather trousers shoved around ankles in the filth of the men’s room, or blood and bruises and broken ribs in the gutter outside.
The sort of messy night he really should know to stay the fuck away from.
But instead, he’s backed up in the shadows, against the dusty rough brick wall of a dingy back alleyway, trousers open and cock out. With an eager, gorgeous kid on his knees on the cracked concrete kerb in front of him.
Just an anonymous one-night drunken hookup amongst the Cokeworth grit. Or is it?
Because, if this is real, what are Severus' fuzzy memories of a bubbling cauldron, a pearlescent potion? Who's the fuchsia-robed ancient Tolkien-wannabe voyeur following him around?
And why does the messy-haired kid with the gorgeous green eyes, who's currently sucking his sanity out through his cock, seem so familiar...?
Series
- Part 8 of Snape, Snape, Severus Snape
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Summary
He feels like a lurking vampire, waiting to be invited over the threshold. For the final splinter of his soul to evaporate into the unforgiving night air.
“Severus-"
It must be dark magic, in the still of the witching hour. The unholy spell of Potter’s beautiful green eyes and messy hair and sensual lips that ought to carry a life sentence in Azkaban.
“Stay tonight.”
Severus helps Harry stumble drunkenly home after his stag do, the night before Harry's set to marry Ginny.
Regrets, last chances, and firewhisky-fuelled bad decisions...
Series
- Part 7 of Snape, Snape, Severus Snape