Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

Hermione Granger boarded the _Hogwarts Express _for the first time in three (very long) years. At the tender age of nineteen, almost twenty, she was going back to school to get her N.E.W.T.S. so she could pursue a career in...well, she was still undecided. She wasn't alone on her journey back to the wizarding world - in fact, she had her closest friends returning with her: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley (Ron's younger sister), and Luna Lovegood. The only ones that would have normally been there were Ginny and Luna, considering the school had been shut down for a year so they couldn't attend their Seventh year. Hermione, Harry, and Ron had spent what would have been their Seventh year wandering through forests, finding Horcruxes to destroy as they took down Lord Voldemort, the most evil wizard that had ever lived.

Of course, since the Final War and Voldemort had been taken down, the trio had lasting damage from the battle. Harry, whose lightning-shaped scar on his forehead no longer burned, still had nightmares and bad panic attacks. Ron was extremely paranoid and had several irrational fears that seemed utterly ridiculous to the average person in their right mind. Hermione, however, walked away without constant nightmares, panic attacks, paranoia, or silly fears. In fact, she was left with something more... a thirst for adventure - something _dangerous_.

Since her last visit to Hogwarts, Hermione had changed very much. She was no longer the bushy-haired, "insufferable know-it-all" (as her Potions master, Professor Snape, had dubbed her) little school girl that she once was. No, she had certainly blossomed into a beautiful young woman (with well-maintained hair). She was still as determined to learn as she had been when she was a child, there was no doubt about that. However, her determination to learn went beyond books and handy charms; she wanted to learn more about _people_ - she found human nature fascinating.

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><p>Professor Severus Snape, surly and nearing forty, was growing more sour by the day. Sitting alone in his office that was located in the dungeons of Hogwarts castle, he was going over course schedules for all of his students that upcoming school year. Classes would begin the following day, and that evening all of the students would return to the castle. Severus dreaded having to (once again) teach Potions, when all he wanted was to leave the school and brood as far away from the damned place as possible.<p>

While both of his masters were dead, Severus had somehow been roped in by former Headmaster Professor Dumbledore (one of his deceased masters) to stay at the school to look after the students. His other deceased master, Lord Voldemort, could have had followers that were lurking about that could still attempt something at the school. Severus highly doubted that there were still Death Eaters roaming outside of Azkaban, but he remained loyal to Dumbledore, even with him being gone for several years. The pay wasn't the greatest, but it was enough for him to keep a decent stock of private Potions ingredients, a bottle or two a week of Fire Whiskey, and the company of a female for an hour.

Severus had never had a girlfriend in his entire life. He had loved only one woman, and she didn't return his affections. Instead, she married the guy that Severus hated more than anyone, making Severus lose all faith in ever _being_ loved. Despite his bitterness, he would always love Lily Evans, even if he buried it deep into his heart and tried to never think about her ever again, or try to ever love another woman again.

"It's all for fools," he muttered as he scribbled a few notes, nearly breaking the nib of his quill. "Fools that wear their hearts on their sleeves..." 

* * *

><p>"Isn't it exciting?" Hermione grinned at her friends from her seat by the window. "Returning after all of this time? To start fresh..."<p>

"Exciting for you, maybe! Mum made me come back. She thinks without my N.E.W.T.S. I'll fail in life. Too late for that, I say... I'm going to get a big, fat 'T' on them, you wait! Snape'll probably make everything trick questions for me..." Ron's ears were beginning to turn red, indicating his stress.

"Oh, Ronald. Don't be so ridiculous," Hermione scolded while Ginny snickered.

"How you feelin', Harry?" she whispered to him, giving his hand a nice squeeze.

"I'm fine, thanks," Harry said quietly as he gave her a reassuring smile.

She returned his smile and kissed his cheek tenderly.

"You know how he is! He hates my guts! Hates Harry a bit more, but still... Just because you guys saw his memories doesn't mean you have to feel _sorry_ for him. He's still a git," said Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Have some _compassion_, Ron. The man nearly died and you're still giving him a rough time."

"He's nearly let Harry die, like, eight-hundred times! And think of all the bad things he's said about us."

"He's _protected_ Harry, and he was _undercover_. I'm sure he'll be completely different when we go back," said Hermione, wishing she could have believed the words she spoke.

"Yeah right, 'Mione! He'll probably be _worse_... He's probably got Lucius Malfoy's cane to beat us with."

Hermione rolled her eyes, though she had to admit to herself that a little slap across the backside from Professor Snape dampend her knickers a bit.

"Don't be so childish, Ronald."

* * *

><p>The Great Hall was lively for the first time since before the Final Battle. Severus frowned as he stared down from the staff table. His cold eyes fixed on the sea of ignorant students that he was forced to teach; he recognized many older versions of the dunderheads he had spent years with, feeling a small part inside of him die at the thought of having to deal with them all over again. Pansy Parkinson, a girl in his own House (Slytherin) was as ugly and pug-like as he remembered her, only she seemed to have gotten more ugly with age.<p>

"Look! It's Harry Potter!" he heard Professor Flitwick whisper to Professor Lupin (who had returned to resume his spot as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher).

"My God, he looks just like James, doesn't he? Look how he's grown!" Lupin whispered to Flitwick. "There's Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. Where'd the years go?"

Severus bit his tongue to stop himself from making a remark; instead, his gaze shifted over to Hermione Granger, who was taking a seat next to Ginny Weasley at the Gryffindor table. His eyes wandered over the little bit of curvy body structure he could make out from under her loose-fitting robes and felt a slight smirk form on his lips at the thoughts of what she could have been hiding underneath them.

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><p>At the Gryffindor table, Hermione was looking around with a smile on her face, trying her best to keep her heart rate under control. She nudged Ginny and pointed at the staff table.<p>

"Look! There's Professor Lupin!" she whispered.

Ginny, Ron, and Harry looked up at the staff table and grinned in unison. The four of them waved up at the staff table, earning a wave in return from their beloved Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Hagrid should be coming soon," Harry muttered as he kept his eyes fixed on the staff table.

Hermione tuned out the follow-up conversation about the gamekeeper; instead, her eyes locked on Professor Snape, who had changed very little since she had last seen him. He still had black, shoulder-length hair and still had pale skin (only this time, she noted, it didn't look like it was on the verge of turning gray). He was tall, about six-foot-one, but had more meat on his bones than he had in the past. Hermione figured they had made him eat more when he was recovering in St. Mungo's.

Indeed, there was something about him that she had always found intriguing. He was considered "unattractive" by most, but to her...he wasn't exactly "good-looking," but he was alluring. He was dark, broken, unloved. Hermione had always been attracted to that type, as bad as she knew that was. As she continued to stare at him, her eyes becoming glassy from the lack of blinking and movement, a sudden thought had hit her - what if _she_ tried to pursue him?

She knew right from the get-go that it was one of the most ignorant thoughts that she had ever considered in her life. Yet at the same time, it entailed all that she really wanted: An older man that was intelligent, a possible good lay, and _danger_. She toyed with the thought of breaking through the big, bad Potions master's calloused exterior and reaching the soft, fluffy man that she was certain of him being deep down. Perhaps if _she_ showed him tenderness, he'd be more..._humanly_.

Lost in her thoughts of Professor Snape becoming her big, fluffy teddy bear, she didn't even notice Ron's hand waving in front of her face from across the table.

"'Mione! They've sorted, like, five kids already! Get that glazed look off your face or people will suspect us doing something bad!" he whispered.

Hermione rolled her eyes and watched as the extra-long sorting proceeded, her eyes wandering back to Professor Snape every once in a while when the thought of turning him into putty in her hands came to mind.

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><p>Severus knew that Ms. Granger had been staring at him, and he didn't like that. Not one bit. Given her unclean record, his best guess was that she and her little friends were planning to steal from his private storage again, or they were cooking up a way to disrupt his class the next day. Right away he started to think of the different ways he could punish them - he'd make Weasley scrub the school's toilets without magic, using only his toothbrush; Potter would spend an entire Saturday cleaning with Filch, the school's caretaker, without magic; and Granger... another small smirk, another dirty little thought...<br>_  
>How ridiculous<em>, he thought. _Thinking about the little chit like that. I'm disgusting._

Ms. Granger caught Severus' eye when he had smirked; her cheeks went bright scarlet. His smirk slowly fell as he kept his eyes fixed on hers. As he pondered the use of Legillimency, Ms. Granger looked away to speak to one of her friends. Severus frowned and shifted in his seat, feeling his groin growing tight against his pants.

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><p>After the feast and a riveting speech from Headmistress McGonagall, everyone returned to their common rooms for the night. Hermione didn't hang around to visit with her fellow Gryffindors. Instead, she went straight to her dorm to ponder the idea of pursuing Snape when that was about as wise as cuddling a blast-ended skrewt. She knew she was being irrational and it was completely out of character for her, but since the war had ended, she felt that there was no longer anymore excitement in her life. She <em>needed<em> something to keep her going besides books and Harry's latest nightmare, or Ron's newest conspiracy theory.

"It's not like he'd let me in _anyway_," she muttered to herself as she laid on her back in her four-poster bed. "He'll probably dock points and tell me to get out of his sight, or get me expelled."

She sighed and rested her hands on her abdomen, thinking about how wrong the idea of trying to get into a teacher's trousers was, yet how dirty it was at the same time. She smirked a bit, wondering what her friends would say if they knew what "Hermione the prude" had been thinking about since seeing their surly Potions master. She had never told them that she had a crush on him in her Second year, which continued up until her Fourth year. After his memories...how could she _not_ have a crush?

Pushing aside the sentimental side of her feelings, she felt her stomach flutter at the thought of his wide shoulders and thicker frame in those tighter-fitting robes he wore. She bit her bottom lip, grinning, while her hand made its way toward the waistband of her skirt. She felt so dirty, and she liked it...

* * *

><p>Down in the dungeons, Severus was sitting in front of an empty fireplace in an old armchair he had taken from his childhood home on Spinner's End. He had a bottle of Firewhiskey in his left hand while his right hand busied itself in his trousers. He tilted his head back as he took an exceptionally long drink, lazily circling the pad of his thumb over the head of his throbbing erection.<p>

Usually Severus would pay for the company of a witch if he were feeling randy, which was quite often. However, during the school year he had to result his daily (sometimes several times a day) "relief" by doing it himself. It was good enough for him - his right hand and a bottle of _Ogden's Old Firewhiskey_.

"What the hell were you plotting, witch?" he muttered as he closed his eyes, letting his head droop onto his shoulder as a pleasurable sensation went from his groin to his stomach as he gave his member a squeeze. "_Ohh_... And _why_ am I wasting valuble brain cells on even _pondering_ on someone like _you_? Insufferable know-it-all...that filled out deliciously... Merlin, I'm a sick fuck."

Between his taste for alcohol, need for constant sexual satisfaction, to his severe case of self-loathing, Severus was a mess. He knew no woman would ever want to get tangled up with a dark, brooding, grouchy old bugger like himself - not like he wanted a partner, anyway. He didn't want to deal with feelings, and he believed that only fools wore their hearts on their sleeves.

Several more minutes of lazy wanking and he reached his peak. His eyes were heavy and his wrist was stiff from keeping it bent for so long. He waved his right hand over his lap, performing a cleansing charm, then tucked away his still partially-erected penis.

"Maybe next time it'd be wise to use lubrication first..." he muttered as he slowly stood up, feeling himself chaffing a bit down there from not using lotion. A malicious smirk formed on his lips.

Truth was, Severus did like some pain. He liked it when he could provide the pain when he'd have a woman in his chambers. Tying them up, spanking them, getting their heat nice and slick so he could give it to them hard and fast, just as he liked it. He loved mind games as well. For once in his life, he felt in control when he could toy with a woman's mind while she was in his bed...or on his desk - he wasn't picky and enjoyed variety.

Severus stripped out of his teaching robes and grabbed a quick shower to wash away the filth of the day; afterward he dried himself off and went back to his bedroom, not bothering to dress, and collapsed onto the bed, sleepy and mildly buzzed.

* * *

><p>Hermione awoke with a start, having dreamed that she was tied down on a table in Professor Snape's office. He had been circling her with some type of solid rod, looking like a panther getting ready to go in for its prey. Her heart raced as she sat up in bed, placing a shaky hand over her chest.<p>

Sunlight was pouring in through the scarlet drapes across from Hermione's bed. Next to her was Ginny Weasley, who was sleeping peacefully while muttering things about Quidditch and Harry's eyes turning a fetching shade of mauve.

Hermione shifted her legs; her sex was tight, and her knickers felt damp. She sighed and rolled her eyes. Having wet dreams over the Potions master like some sort of perverted teenager...not like it was a far stretch from home, in her case. She had to snicker at the mental image of the reaction Professor Snape probably would've had if he knew.

She leaned against her headboard and furrowed her brow, thinking about the look on her professor's face while he had fixed those cold eyes on her in her dream. There was something in them that she had never seen before... It was a hunger.

_Perhaps_, she thought, _he had a hunger for human affection and this was his way of trying to get it? Maybe binding me was his idea of ever being able to have someone in his life because they were never willing to be with him?_

Either way, she couldn't dwell on her dream for long. She had to face him after lunch for Potions class and she didn't want him looking into her thoughts while _that_ was swimming around her in mind. She got up and freshened herself for the long, first day that lay ahead.


	2. The Serpent and The Lion

_A/N: Thank you to everyone that has read, reviewed, and favorited this story. You guys have just put me over the moon with joy! I'm sorry that this part is short, but Sev is a naughty boy here, so I hope that'll make up for the lack of length (though I'm sure Sev won't...ahem...) _

_Hope I don't get in trouble for the smutty details. Oh well..._

_Anyway, here's part two! Hope you all like it:_

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><p>Severus took his seat at the high table with the rest of his colleagues, staying silent as usual. It was only eight-thirty and he was already horny - however, it wasn't the first time he was ready for a few rounds that early in the morning. He scanned the Great Hall, looking for Ms. Granger and her bubble-headed friends. Finally, he found her sitting at the Gryffindor table with Potter, who seemed to be telling her some sort of story that Hermione didn't seemed amused or the least bit interested in hearing. He raised a brow as he watched her rest her head against her hand, keeping her eyes fixed on Potter, yet it seemed as though her mind were wandering elsewhere.<p>

"...then Voldemort reached out and touched my scar, but it didn't burn! Instead, somehow, I saw Ginny laying on the floor of her bedroom at the Burrow and she was begging for mercy. Bellatrix was standing over her, using the _Cruciatus_ curse... It was horrible, 'Mione," Harry said quietly as he went on about one of his many night terrors.

Hermione slowly nodded her head as she stared at him with glazed eyes. Having heard the same nightmare _at least_ ten times in the past five months, she could have recited it with him.

"It was only a night terror, Harry. He's gone and nothing can harm either of you guys again," Hermione said in a slightly dull voice.

"There're still _Death Eaters_ roaming about! I just _know_ it!" Ron said as he took a seat next to Hermione.

Hermione gave them a bored look as they began conversing about Harry's nightmare and Ron's paranoid theories about the whereabouts of any Death Eaters that remained on the loose since the fall of You-Know-Who. Her gaze slowly shifted to the High Table, scanning along the mostly empty seats. Her eyes stopped on Professor Snape, who was staring right back at her. Her stomach fluttered at the acknowledgment before it churned with fear - had she done something wrong? Why was he staring?

The look he was giving her was smoldering. She felt a fire ignite in her stomach and spread straight to her core, burning with such an intense heat she had to squeeze her legs together to prevent her juices from leaking through her knickers. She bit her bottom lip and felt herself flush as the heat raised to her cheeks.

_Why's he giving me that look? Oh Merlin, who knew he could look so - dare I say it - _sexy_? _

She crossed her legs as she continued to hold his gaze, watching as his eyes lowered themselves over her frame before going back up to meet her whiskey orbs. Her breath hitched the moment his tongue slowly glided across his lower lip, giving her a plethora of filthy thoughts.

_Oh, to feel that tongue..._

"Alright there, 'Mione? What're you looking at?" Ron asked as he nudged her.

She immediately broke eye contact with Professor Snape and looked at Ron, feeling anxious with the knowledge of him catching her staring.

"Oh... I-I was just thinking. Didn't realize what I was looking at," she said quickly, holding her breath in hopes of him believing her fib.

Ron didn't say anything. Instead, he turned back to Harry and started talking about Quidditch.

Hermione let out a relaxed breath before shifting her gaze back up to the staff table. Professor Snape stood up from his seat and made his way down an aisle of tables, one of them being the Gryffindor table. He was walking right toward her.

_Oh no_, she thought. _I'm in trouble. Oh god. What did I do? Did he not like me staring? _

Her stomach felt as though it had dropped right down to her knees as he elegantly walked her way, light on his feet with beautiful posture. Harry and Ron were too engaged in their conversation to notice the approaching professor.

Hermione's skin tingled when Professor Snape walked past her very closely, brushing his black teaching robes against her back as he moved in near silence. Her eyes followed his every movement, confused by their exchange. Perhaps her dream really did mean something - maybe he wanted so badly to reach out to someone, and maybe it had been possible that he had noticed a change in her since the war and felt that she could be the one to save him from his darkness? She was more than willing to be his angel of light. Her core tingled at the thoughts of something intimate being initiated between them; flashes of them in mid-coitus, his jaw slightly opened with his eyes closed as he was on top of her, moaning through the passion of each deep, pleasurable thrust that sent wave after wave of pure euphoria through her body and sent her over the edge into the most powerful orgasm that she could ever experience.

A small, barely audible whimper escaped Hermione's throat at the fantasy. Harry stopped in the middle of his sentence about snitches or whatever it was that he was on about to look at her.

"What's wrong, Hermione? Are you alright? You look odd..." Harry's expression grew more and more concerned by the second.

Hermione blocked out the filthy pictures in her mind and the feeling of her womanhood tightening, trying to return to her normal state.

"Sorry, I'm fine. I'm just feeling a bit nervous about being back," she said, which was partially true.

"Oh... You'll be fine. Don't worry, you're the smartest witch in the school. You'll be brilliant, 'Mione." Harry smiled at her reassuringly.

She returned his smile with a slight curve of the mouth, her mind wandering down to the dungeons where her Potions master was more than likely pacing.

* * *

><p>Severus glanced down at his silver pocket watch after warding the doors of his private chambers. He had half an hour before any of the brainless wastes of space were going to come skipping through his door, looking as stupid as they always did with their very small brains being clouded by foolish things such as relationships and Quidditch. He grimaced at the thought of his ignorant students and pushed them far out of his mind - he had other business to attend to.<p>

He took off his black teaching robe and laid it on a black couch that was several feet away from the old arm chair in front of his stone fireplace, right where he took a seat moments later. He fumbled with the silver buckle on his leather belt for several seconds before he let out a low, frustrated groan; he undid it with magic, not bothering to speak the spell out loud or use a wand, and quickly undid his trousers. He slumped back into his seat in the black armchair, releasing his throbbing erection that dripped some of his excitement from the tip. Long, thick, reddening and glistening with pre-ejaculation fluid, he gripped it firmly and stroked himself, furrowing his brow as he gently pinched at the loose skin near the head.

A small smirk formed on his usually sneering lips as he pictured what the innocent Hermione Granger's reaction would have been had she seen him like that, her darling professor that he knew she so admired, fucking himself with the thought of tying her down to his desk and making her take him into her mouth that was usually busy shouting out answers as quickly as she could form the words. Hell, while he was at it, he nearly felt like laughing at the reaction Headmistress McGonagall would have had if she knew that he was leering at the female member of the Golden Trio, one of his _students_, and her prized pupil.

He groaned quietly when he gave his sac a squeeze, feeling it growing heavier in his hand as he palmed the warm skin in his large hand, massaging it in rhythm with his erection. His hand twisted and glided from base to tip, squeezing and tugging gently before giving the head of it a few flicks to cause an erotic sting, making his belly burn. He scowled, wishing he had a witch nearby to help bring him to climax because he was working in a rather short time frame.

"_Fuck_," he hissed under his breath as he bucked himself into his hand, picking up his pace to drive him closer to his orgasm.

Another slur of curses were muttered as he grind himself into his hand furiously, his breathing becoming erratic and his eyes squeezing shut to heighten the sensation of his throbbing cock becoming more sensitive to touch. He felt himself dribbling onto his hand, knowing that he was coming closer to going over the edge.

An image flashed in his mind of Hermione spread over his knee, her bare buttocks exposed to him, her hip resting over his erection, as he spanked her with his bare hand. He could just hear her moans as she'd shift herself over his dick, her very center hot and slick for him. He saw himself unleashing his large member and putting it in her after giving her a few slaps on the ass, impaling her until the break of dawn.

He let out a small cry as his head leaned against the back of his chair, his hips raising to buck them wildly as his hand quickened its pace. His groin and stomach were burning from the flames of the erotic fire the Gryffindor student had been fueling for him inside his mind, about to lose himself to the world...

"Oh, _fuck_!" he exclaimed as he felt himself reach his climax, panting as hard as his cock that drained his seed in alarming amounts.

He felt as though electric currents were flowing from his chest straight down to his toes, only to return up to his groin. A loud moan escaped his lips, echoing around the room, from the intense pleasure of his release that was he stroking himself through. His head was spinning, his eyes twitching and rolling slightly, as he was slowly coming down from his orgasm.

"Oh...God..." he whispered as he panted, beads of sweat rolling down from his scalp and pooling onto his collarbone.

He wiped his face off on the sleeve of his frock coat, panting and closing his eyes as he tried to regain his strength and catch his breath in the afterglow of his masturbation. He slowly opened his lids, his black eyes fixing their sight on his penis that was deflating to its normal, flaccid state. He slowly shifted his aching legs, smirking slightly at the burning sensation of the tight muscles in his loins.

He performed a quick cleansing charm before he tucked his penis back into his trousers, careful not to stir anything that could leave him wanting another round of self-pleasure when he had a batch of ignorant brats that would soon be arriving for his class. He stood from his chair and fastened his trousers and belt again, then retrieved his teaching robe before exiting his chambers.

* * *

><p>It was nearly four in the afternoon when Hermione arrived in the dungeons (with Harry trailing after her) for Potions class. It was their last class of the day and both were immensely relieved that all they had left to attend was dinner in the Great Hall. They went inside the dimly-lit classroom and took their seats in the middle row. Professor Snape was sitting at his desk with an opened book in his hand, appearing to be engrossed in whatever its contents were.<p>

"With any luck, he'll just sit there like that the whole class," Harry whispered to Hermione with a small smile playing on his lips.

"Shh." Hermione shot him a brief glare before turning her attention back to the professor.

Professor Snape slowly looked up from his book and stared directly at Hermione. Those dark, piercing eyes always made her stop anything she was doing to look into them, and she was certain on different occasions that they could have had the power of a basilisk's stare if he wanted his victim dead. She bit her lip as she stared back at Professor Snape, whose gaze was lingering down her body.

_Please stop looking at me like that... I may fling myself at you. Good lord, if only Harry and Ron knew what I'm thinking! They wouldn't even believe it if they'd seen it for themselves. __  
><em>

She watched him as he put down his book and clasped his hands together, elbows resting on his desk, as he pressed his chin to his knuckles. She saw the essence of a small smirk playing on his lips, which could only spell trouble. ...or a wet spot in Hermione's knickers. She shifted in her seat and felt anxiety - what if he had been inside her mind and knew that his smoldering gaze was arousing her? She hoped that nobody would be able to smell her arousal, even though she knew it would be rather pointless to worry about because the fragrances of the other ingredients in the classroom were much stronger.

"What, Ms. Granger, do you find so fascinating that you must stare blankly at me for minutes on end?"

Hermione, whose eyes were glazing from staring at him and getting lost in thoughts of him pinning her against the shelves in his storeroom, snapped out of her trance. She looked down at her desk and swallowed back a lump in her throat.

"Well, Ms. Granger?" Professor Snape stood up from his desk and slowly stepped around it. "Surely you don't wish to pass up the opportunity to express your knowledge to a teacher? Any other time a question is asked, whether or not it concerns you, that hand is always waving about in the air."

He had been walking down at the aisle toward her and Harry's desk as he spoke. He stopped in front of their desk and pressed his hands on the edge of it, leaning in slightly to stare into Hermione's eyes. A few Slytherin students that were seated behind them snickered quietly.

Hermione began to stutter, seeming to have lost all ability to form proper words.

"What's the matter, Ms. Granger? For once our resident know-it-all can't answer a simple question for her professor?" he asked in a very soft, silky voice that sent chills up Hermione's spine.

"I-I'm sorry, s-sir. I... I-I hadn't realized that I was staring," she said quietly, watching his nostrils flare as he leaned in closer to her.

_Why do I want to just drag you away from here and make love to you, and just...tame you? "Tame" couldn't possibly be the proper word - he's a_ man_, not a wolf!_

"Perhaps it would be appropriate for you to sort out any distractions before you enter my class, Ms. Granger," he said in such a quiet voice that Hermione had to strain her ears to hear him.

He leaned in closer so the tip of his nose was nearly grazing her cheek; she could feel everyone staring at them. Her eyelids drooped as her mouth parted a bit. Her face burned from his hot breath on her skin.

"I can _smell_ you," he whispered, making her eyes open wide.

_Merlin, no! He can't...!_

She shivered at his words, feeling mortified. She hoped that nobody else in the class had heard him. He pulled back and stared her in the eye, a malicious glint dancing through his black orbs.

"Five points from Gryffindor," he said before standing up straight.

Hermione saw Harry give Professor Snape a dirty look. Professor Snape glared at him before he went back up to his desk, giving his wand a quick wave. His handwriting appeared on the board next to his desk with instructions for the potion they were to brew.

"Bloody git," Harry whispered as he glared daggers into Professor Snape. "What I'd give to -"

"Harry!" Hermione whispered harshly, giving him a sharp swat on the arm. "_Shh_!"

"We should report him to Professor McGonagall," Harry whispered. "That was really weird."

"Be _quiet_!" Hermione begged. "He's probably having an off day."

"Hermione, that was uncalled for. What the hell did he whisper to you? People are going to think -"

"_Silence_!" Professor Snape snapped from his desk as he glared right at Harry. "Five more points from Gryffindor for disrupting my class."

Harry scowled as he sank into his seat, lowering his gaze into his cauldron. Hermione stared back and forth between the pair, feeling confused and humiliated.

_Looks like I've got my work cut out for me..._


End file.

Harry Potter, Drama, Romance