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The Things One Does for Digestives by Helena Rickman [Reviews - 6]

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The brazen rating is for some silly sexual foreplay. This story was written for the 2016 LJ promptfest and brit-picked by a dear person who requested to remain anonymous. Prompted by the wonderful shipper, Toblass, who requested: SS/HG go weekly grocery shopping at a Muggle market. (Tesco?) Perfect opportunity for snarky humor and witty banter. What do they buy? How do they get it all home? Don’t forget the cat food.

Mmm... the feeling of soft, warm flesh pressed against his loins made for a slow wake on Sunday mornings.

Without opening his eyes, a soft sigh escaped his lips as Severus reached around his wife's torso and gently pulled her tighter against his raging erection. He rocked slowly back and forth. The feel of his cock settling against the seam of Hermione's ass *tap-tap-tap* was a joyous sensation. He grinned in his half-sleeping state.

Hermione always smelled like warm honey in the mornings. Severus brought his nose *tap-tap-tap* to his wife's neck and inhaled slowly as his left hand slid towards her soft, curly region. A gasp escaped his wife's throat as she *tap-tap-tap* exclaimed in a not too feminine voice, “Severus! What is that infernal noise?”

“'ersanowlatthesill,” he growled in his still closed-eye state. He reached down and placed one extended finger against her nether lips.

“Stop! Aren't you going to see what that persistent bird wants? I can't focus with all that noise.”

Severus rolled onto his back and threw his exploratory appendage over his eyes. The *tap-tap-tap* continued. His economical nature didn't allow him to waste time or resources, so he made certain to enjoy a sniff of his finger prior to moving along to his task. With a stretch worthy of a bear, Severus sat up, smacked his lips, and plodded towards the window to allow its offending tormentor within.

A long-eared owl hopped onto the dresser and extended its leg. Severus untied the missive and ungratefully tossed the avian delivery service back out the window without even a simple 'thank-you', much less a small treat.

At this point it is fair to note that the Snape residence suffered from an abundance of bird droppings on the southwest corner of the roof, as well as a multitude of owl pellets of various shapes and sizes littering the garden.

“It's from your Mum, my dear. It seems my favorite in-laws are planning a Continental jaunt and require our help watching their home. Namely, feeding that beast of a cat that you adore.”

Dr. and Dr. Granger had quickly become proficient with owl communiques. Dr. Granger The Masculine believed it was as novel as homing pigeons, and Dr. Granger The Feminine appreciated the organic method of messaging.

It was now Hermione's turn to push the sheets away as her feet and arms extended as far in either direction as humanly possible. Her husband's waning penis twitched as he watched her arch her back, much like a cat reawakening from a good night's sleep.

“When are they leaving?” Hermione asked.

“Two weeks from tomorrow, it seems. They will only be away for four days at a conference in Hamburg. Maybe the Germans can share a technique your father can employ to make his trade somewhat more pleasant.” Severus never forgave his wife for tricking him into his first dental exam. And he had thought the Dark Lord was capable of tortuous methods.

Hermione sauntered past her husband as she headed towards the loo, dragging her nails across his raspy stubble. “Well, come on, luv. Let's get you showered and shaved. My tender thighs can't take that sandpaper rubbing across them, can they?”

The wizard of the house smirked as he followed his witch into the bathroom.


House sitting for his Muggle in-laws was a pleasant diversion for the Potions Master. A life of leisure earned from lucrative patents was the reward Severus Snape deserved for his years of espionage. It had taken some work on his part to convince his young wife to relax into married life, but she still insisted on earning her keep. Being her own boss of the first wizarding Public Relations Consultation Firm gave her the ability to manage a competent staff from afar if she wished, and have the time to spend with her husband if he wished. The few days spent at Granger’s residence was not a burden to either Snape.

Severus, in particular, looked forward to reasons for visiting his in-laws. His father-in-law, Charles, was a capable hand at poker and had a vice for fine brandy. His mother-in-law, Jean, kept the refrigerator stocked with foods not only healthy, but quite tasty as well. Even though the Doctors Granger frowned upon sweets in their home, they did enjoy the secret pleasure of Tesco’s Every day Value Milk Chocolate Digestives. Severus never could understand the descriptive ‘Value’ when the wording more appropriate should be ‘Valuable.’

Being a caring person, Jean Granger tried to keep at least three packets of the biscuits in her pantry at all times. One packet for her and her husband to enjoy, one packet to send home with her son-in-law when he visited, and one packet as a spare.

Upon arrival, the formalities were covered: “the tins of cat food are here; prepared dinners are in the freezer; clean sheets are on the bed; the plumber will be here Tuesday to look at the laundry room sink, AND by the way, we are low on both tea and biscuits I hope you don’t mind, we love you, we’ll be back Friday evening goodbye”.

Severus hoped that Hermione had paid attention. He only heard one thing: “blah, blah, blah LOW on tea and BISCUITS blah, blah”. Panic set in.

As Hermione escorted her parents to their car, Severus clandestinely made his way to the pantry to survey the situation. He pushed aside the tins of vegetables and brought forth a single packet of unopened white and blue digestive biscuits. Standing on his toes, he double checked to be certain another packet sat on the shelf.

He walked away disappointed.


By noon the following day the Snapes were navigating a trolley up one aisle and down the next. Hermione had decided that instead of raiding her parents' food supply, she and her husband could survive nicely on takeaways. The thought of Indian one night, Asian the next and good, old-fashioned meat and potatoes another appealed to her and alleviated his ennui. After choosing a few pieces of fruit, Hermione turned her cart towards the till.

“I should have made a list – I feel like we’ve forgotten something, Severus.”

Hermione turned to her husband for a reply, but he was nowhere to be seen.


Muggles make things so difficult, thought Severus. There is no sense to their organization. The thought of needing to pass aisles of vegetable tins, boxes of pasta, what appeared to be hundreds of varieties of spices as well as nappies and feminine products just to get to basic necessities baffled him.

At long last aisle thirteen yielded coffees and teas.

Bigelow. Tetley. PG Tips. Tesco. Twinings. TyPhoo. How was one to choose? Casting a surreptitious glance in both directions, Severus waited for the coast to clear before touching the sheathed wand strapped to his forearm and whispered, “Accio best tea.”

As he reached for the fifteen boxes of Bigelow flying from the shelf towards him, he was smacked in the forehead by the last three boxes of PG Tips on the shelf. It was at that moment Hermione spotted him from the end of the aisle.

“Well, I never thought of using a charm to fill my cart,” giggled Mrs. Snape. “Seems to make shopping so much more efficient!”

Severus turned to his wife and delivered his patented sneer, then grinned at the sight of her levity. “How should I know which is the best tea?”

“If it were my choice, I would get the Tetley’s, but everyone has their own preference. Grab a random box. We can get the rest back on the shelf the Muggle way in no time at all.”

Severus tossed a box of Tetley Black Tea into the trolley. Before Hermione had picked up the last wayward box he announced, “One more thing, luv, I’ll meet you at the till” and he was off.


Hermione waited until Severus returned to queue up. A smile crossed her face when she saw what his final purchase was.

Seven white and blue packets filled his arms, cradled as safely one would a newborn child.

It had been the third night of their honeymoon in Italy when Severus had let go of his emotional defenses and cried like a small child in his wife’s arms. Only one year had passed since the war’s end. One year was not enough time to move past the horrors of death and the constant urgency of balancing on a knife’s edge.

The two of them had flown into each other’s arms after the Order of Merlin Ceremony in August. Neither knew why; they had no shared affectionate past. They were both in the same place at the same time, an empty corridor outside of the third level lift.

Both were inebriated on the excitement of the evening. The relief of knowing for certain their roles in the conflict were over and a life of safety lay in their grasp.

As the lift opened, Severus placed his hand gently on Hermione’s back, a chivalrous gesture but one too intimate for their position with each other. As the gate folded to its close, Hermione turned towards Severus. Neither could tell who was the aggressor, but by the time the lift opened on the first level the two were pressed into the back corner, grasping at each other and demanding the deep kisses of desperate lovers.

No words were spoken. By morning each knew they would never part company again.

Severus had been a jealous and possessive boyfriend and husband. Hermione never gave him reason to doubt her devotion, but he was always concerned that this new life was one he didn’t deserve and might disappear with the next day.

That night of their honeymoon Severus disclosed his fears. His childhood had been one of extreme neglect, both emotional and physical. The psychological damage done to a child might never be corrected, but Hermione was damned certain she would do her best. If she was unable to reverse his fears, she would be happy to spend her life lavishing him with all the love she could.

Seven packets of biscuits proved a small comfort to give a man who had been sent to his first day of Hogwarts in a mismatched pair of used shoes, neither of which fit properly.


The Drs. Granger were tired after a long day of travel from Germany to the U.K. Their daughter and son-in-law had greeted them with a smile and made certain a light dinner of soup and salad was waiting for them, even going as far as cleaning the dishes and kitchen before leaving to return home.

As Dr. Jean Granger took a relaxing shower, Dr. Charles Granger searched frantically through the pantry for his favorite milk chocolate digestive biscuits.

He walked away disappointed.


The Things One Does for Digestives by Helena Rickman [Reviews - 6]

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