Old fic repost (Love Potion no. 9, ch 5-6)

[redorchids]

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Chapter 5 - Crossroads

Hermione could hear the voices behind her fade into an indistinct murmur as she left the Great Hall after dinner. She was physically very tired, mentally exhausted and now wished that she hadn't promised Neville she'd meet him and help out with Transfiguration. Her entire body was aching horribly and she just wanted to take a double dose of Dreamless Sleep Potion and lock herself in her room.

She was a bit early, Neville wouldn't show up for another fifteen minutes or so, but she had wanted to get away from all the noise and laughter at the dinner table. She gave a deep sigh and leaned against a wall in a secluded corner of the Entrance Hall, trying to make herself as invisible as possible. She had had to get away from the strain of being in the same room as both Ron and Snape. Harry and Ginny had been away at extra quidditch practice again and would eat later, which left her the victim of two men's unwavering gazes. Every time she met Ron's eyes, she felt a bit guilty, and every time she met her potion master's she felt like she was being ravished where she sat. She thus had tried to keep her eyes down and concentrate entirely on her meal - only to find that she didn't have an appetite.

She closed her eyes and enjoyed the silence around her, wishing that Neville would be late so she would be able to just stand there and do nothing at all...

Her moment of peace was swiftly put to an end when the wall behind her suddenly was transformed into thin air and she fell straight through it, landing quite painfully on her back. Disoriented, she turned her head and realised that she must be in some kind of hidden storage room, for it was quite small and there were shelves along two walls filled with cleaning supplies and such. It was probably used by the House Elves, she thought, trying to get to her feet.

Suddenly, a warm hand took hold of her arm and helped her get up. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was - she could feel it by how her heart instantly sped up and heat began to rise in her body. She heard him whisper a locking and a silencing charm before turning her in his arms and pulling her close for a kiss.

She felt his lips come closer and her body starting to yield as desire once again flooded her system. With her last shred of mental strength, she forced her unwilling hands to push him away and break the grip of his arms.

"Don't touch me! I don't want you anymore." Her voice was quivering as she tried to distance herself from the man, watching in apprehension as anger grew in his eyes.

"I thought I'd already told you not to lie to me." The voice was angry, but still quite in control. He purposefully stepped closer, trapping her against the wall.

"I'm not lying!" she almost sobbed, his closeness breaking down her defences much faster than her reason could rebuild them. "I'm aware that my body is still under the influence of the potion, but I intend to fight it, and I'll fight you if you come anywhere near me again!" Her hand was quite steady as she pointed her wand at him.

"You don't understand, you don't have a choice in this matter." His wand was also out now, his intense eyes never leaving hers.

"What do you mean? You always have a choice! And I for one would rather die than let you touch me again!" She grasped her wand tighter, motioning for him to back away.

"Well, unfortunately for you, I don't intend to die because of some little game your conscience is playing on you," he snarled, moving closer, his hand shooting out to snatch her wand away from her so quickly that she didn't have time to react before her hand was empty. "And I do think that, though you declare it with such passion, you would also be reluctant to actually give up your life just to appease your sense of propriety. Am I not correct?" He pinned her against the wall, cursing the look of confusion which spread across her face. The little bitch obviously didn't even understand how dangerous a situation she'd got herself into. His suspicion was confirmed by her next words.

"Do you mean..." Her voice was shaking. "...sir, you don't mean... that you would actually kill me if I didn't..." Her eyes were becoming shiny as she stared up at him in fear.

"Don't be so bloody stupid!" He gave her a little shake. "Of course I wouldn't. You, on the other hand, would - killing me in the process I might add."

She looked completely bewildered now and he continued with a snarl:

"A True Bond is unbreakable, have you not understood what that means?" Her look told him she obviously hadn't. "Well, since you're showing such incredible ignorance, let me enlighten you." He lowered his voice to a whisper, pressing his body slowly against hers. "For a more common True Bond -the Bond of Love- it means that the parties cannot suffer to go without declaring their love for one another for long without their bodies breaking down and dying. For this bond, things as trivial as loving looks, light touch and pretty words fulfil the requirement. Our bond, on the other hand, is slightly different, but with the same tragic consequences should the daily requirement not be met. The Bond of Lust is very greedy and demands daily physical involvement -or, to put it to you more crudely, sex- lest the people joined by it die. You're undoubtedly already experiencing the beginning of the breakdown since we haven't been together since this morning. I'm personally rather used to physical pain and have over the years developed a high tolerance for it, and since I have problems even walking, I can only imagine what it must be like for you..."

He roughly stroked her arms and she whimpered, the pain filling her eyes with tears. She desperately looked for a sign that he'd be lying - making this up just to scare her - but the dead serious look in his eyes combined with the shooting pain in her body made a very convincing case. He eyed her intently.

"Do you understand the full consequences of your actions now?" She nodded in mute assertion.

"I guess I made my bed and now we both have little choice but to sleep in it," she said, a careful smile creeping to her lips.

"Absolutely right, and I for one intend to enjoy this impossible situation as much as I can until I can safely be rid of you again. I suggest you do the same." His lips started nuzzling her neck and she drew a sharp breath, feeling the pain subside somewhat.

"Four more days and then this'll be over forever," she murmured against his ear, kissing his neck in the same way as he did hers.

"Forever," he affirmed, claiming her mouth in a fiery kiss and pressing her hard against the wall while their hands began the struggle to rid them of their clothes as quickly as was humanly possible.

***

A little while later, Hermione stepped out of the hidden room, all pain now gone from her body and replaced with a pleasant, lazy feeling. She looked at her watch and clenched her teeth - quarter to eight - she was supposed to have met up with Neville fifteen minutes ago. She quickly looked around the Entrance Hall and saw a figure sitting slumped on the floor near the front doors. She hurried her steps towards him.

"Neville, hi! I'm so so sorry I'm late," she called out as she drew nearer. He quickly stumbled to his feet, a big smile on his face.

"Hermione! I was afraid you weren't coming. I mean... I'd understand if you were to have changed your mind." He looked at her uncertainly.

"Don't be silly!" She flashed him a big smile. "I would never stand you up like that. There was just something I had to take care of, that's all." She felt herself flush slightly and decided to change the subject. "Come on, let's get going. I'm really curious to see what your project is..."

She took his arm and they walked out the front doors together.

***

Neville opened the door to one of the greenhouses with a special key and swept into a rather elegant bow, gesturing for her to walk inside.

"After you milady."

She smiled and thought the game funny, dipping into a deep curtsy with a "Thank you sir" before she entered the room.

She'd never been in this particular greenhouse before. It was Professor Sprout's favourite one, where she kept her own private collection of rare plants, and she only let a very small number of students have access to it. Hermione, though she took Advanced Herbology and got top marks, wasn't among the chosen few, but she didn't really mind. Her favourite subjects were Transfiguration and Potions after all, and she highly preferred sitting in a comfortable chair with a book than to replant aggressive shrubs in her spare time. Neville, on the other hand, had spent much of his free time down at the greenhouses ever since his first year and seemed to have become something of a surrogate son to Professor Sprout. Many were the afternoons when she'd seen him stuff his books in his backpack with a sigh of relief and excitedly make his way out the castle doors, talking about a new, fantastic plant that needed his attention...

"Hermione, over here!" Neville called from somewhere in front of her "Oh, and watch out for the firebreathing Rosa Draconis to your right..."

Hermione looked to her right and carefully sidestepped the small flame aimed at her from a shiny, scaly-looking red flower. It gave out a puff of green smoke, clearly miffed that it hadn't been able to burn her. She walked further down the aisle and came to a stop at the entrance of a low arc, overgrown with vines. A red and gold sign was fastened at the top, reading "Research Lab: Neville Longbottom - Gryffindor". She gasped in surprise.

"You have your own lab here?" she asked, eyes transfixed at the sign.

Neville poked out his head from where he'd stood inside the room

"Yes, Professor Sprout offered me one at the end of last year, just before I sat my OWLs. I'm really happy I got it, I've been able to do a lot of interesting work here," he smiled proudly. "Now come here and I'll show it to you properly." He held out his hand in invitation. She took it and he started guiding her around his lab.

It wasn't exceptionally large but Hermione found her breath being stuck in her throat from the beauty of it. Flowers such as she had never seen were sitting in pots wherever she looked, displaying colours and giving off scents which made her feel like she'd entered fairyland. Neville brought her to a halt over at a table and fetched a pot with a small, blue flower, which seemed to hide its head in the green leaves that sprouted from the delicate stem.

"This is my most precious project," Neville murmured, stroking the green leaves affectionately "I've had her since she was only a small seed. She's a cross between ten different plants, all with healing properties, and I've named her "Devotionis Almae" (of life-giving devotion), but usually I just call her ‘Alice’... after my mom you know..."

She felt a sharp pang in her heart at the mention of his mother and remembered the only time she'd seen her - in St Mungo's, unable to recognise her son... She cleared her throat a little.

"So, what can I do to help you?" She looked at his hand, which was still stroking the flower, and stepped a bit closer to him.

"Well," he let go of the flower and looked back at her. "I'm having some problems with the last step in the Transfiguration process. See, I've cross-bred plants with strong healing properties, but most of them are meant to be used to cure physical injury, not... -his voiced dropped to a whisper- ...mental." He looked up at her and she understood perfectly just what kind of plant he was trying to create. "I thought Transfiguration would be the best way to change this, but I didn't want to do it myself and risk destroying something. You're the cleverest witch I know Hermione, and even McGonagall says your Transfiguration skills are outstanding. Would you help me, please?"

She looked back at him with tears in her eyes, deeply flattered and scared at the same time. It was such a huge responsibility... though the challenge of contributing to a breakthrough of that magnitude was also very tempting...

"Of course, Neville, I'd be honoured to help you." His face lit up immediately, relief written all over it.

"You really will?"

"Yes... and I even think I know exactly what spell to use..." She thought back to the one she'd used to change her love potion. It ought to be just perfect for this task too, since this was all about transferring already existing healing effects - to make it work on the mind instead of on the body. Still, she wanted to make absolutely sure it would work before she tried it.

"Neville, I need to do some research, just to double-check that the spell I'm thinking of would be the appropriate one to use. It shouldn't take me too long. Maybe we could meet here on Tuesday after Herbology?"

"Sure, that'd be just fine." He smiled at her and then reached for one of her hands and brought it slowly to his lips, where he placed a soft kiss on its back. His eyes rose to meet hers and she was stunned to see shining, unveiled love reflected in them as he murmured his thanks.

She blinked and looked again, certain that she'd been mistaken. She hadn't, his eyes were still glowing, seeming to promise without words to love, honour and cherish her forever. The look was so tender it made tears creep to her eyes and stopped her breath in her chest. She broke the connection and looked around the room, realisation finally sinking in...

"It was you who sent me those incredible flowers, wasn't it?” Her voice wasn't quite steady as she said the words.

"Yes," he answered simply, leading her over to a corner of his lab, where she recognised a big vase full of the magical red flowers she'd found in her own room. "After what my clumsy hands did to your potion in class, I wanted to give you something wonderful to try to make up for it, even if I know that all the flowers in the world couldn't make up for hurting someone so precious as you." He smiled as she reached out to touch a silken petal. "I named it after you, by the way..."

Blushing profusely, he indicated the small sign attached to the vase, which read "Orchidirosa Hermionis".

She started to speak, but he was quicker:

"Hermione, you don't have to say anything. I know that you only love me like a friend and I'm not asking you for anything. I know I never had a chance with you - I've seen the way your eyes light up when you talk to Ron and I respect your feelings. He's a good guy, and I think he really likes you." He took her hands and looked at her in earnest. "I was never one to fight over a girl, or one to try to change the ways love naturally flows." He stepped closer to her and raised his hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. "I didn't tell you that I love you to mess up your life or so that I would get a chance to date you. I told you because I wanted you to know the truth... that I think you are the most amazing witch and person I've ever known."

"Neville... I'm not perfect, I-"

"I know you aren't, nobody is. But that's not the point. The point is that you try, you help people, you have a good heart." He smiled at her, lifting her chin slightly. "If you ever need someone to talk to, I want you to know that you can always come to me. I won't yell at you and I won't judge you - I'll just listen and love you even more." He bent his head and kissed her softly, a very different kiss to others she'd received the last couple of days. It was gentle and loving and didn't urge any response from her. She felt truly cherished and at peace under his touch...

He let go of her lips with a little sigh, looking down into her eyes for a long time with an almost sad look, though he tried to hide it with a smile.

"Come on, I'll walk you back to the castle," he said finally and offered her his arm. "I believe somebody will be waiting for you."

"If only you knew," she thought, taking his arm and following him out of the greenhouse.

***

The following day, Hermione went up to the library straight after breakfast, looking forward to a day of study and research. Hufflepuff was playing Ravenclaw that afternoon and she didn't really feel like going. It wasn't even her own house playing and Quidditch had never really been a passion to her as it was to most of her friends. She'd probably still go though... the others expected her to come with them...

She sat down at a table in a secluded corner of the library, piling up her first stack of books. With a happy sigh, she leaned back against the wall and opened her An Advanced Guide to Transfiguration. She read happily for a while, but eventually the lack of sleep she'd accumulated over the past couple of days got the better of her and her head fell to her shoulder, eyes closing as it went.

***

Severus Snape walked through the empty hallways. This was the best time at Hogwarts, when all the annoying students were out at the dratted Quidditch pitch and you could move around the castle without having to see, hear or deal with any of them. He loved the quiet beauty of the grey stone and the soft glow of the torches set along the walls. It was even better at night, but then he'd had to sacrifice that particular pleasure of late... He smirked to himself. Having Hermione Granger in his bed was turning out to be a lot more pleasant than expected. Who would have thought that there was such passion in the bushy-haired girl? No great beauty to be sure, and he still didn't actually like her, but he couldn't deny the effect she had on him. She had on him? He frowned at his own thinking. The potion had on him, rather...

He looked up and noticed that his feet had led him to the library. Good, he could pick up the new volume on Moonstone and use it to find some good nearly-impossible-to-answer questions to spring on his classes next week...

He walked down the aisles, the book under his arm, just enjoying the smell of books around him. He wished he had a library like this just to himself, where he wouldn't have to suffer sharing the books with a bunch of moronic youngsters that didn't know how to appreciate them anyway. "How nice it would be to be filthily rich," he thought to himself.

He turned a corner and came to an abrupt halt. Curled up in an armchair next to the wall was none other than his current little Gryffindor lover, sleeping peacefully with a book in her lap. He supposed she should be tired - last night hadn't brought much sleep, and judging by the pile of books she had put on the table, she'd come here early to put in a full day's studying.

He moved closer and felt a familiar yearning awaken in his body as his gaze wandered over her. He shook his head in bemusement - wouldn't he ever feel that he'd had enough of this girl? It was the potion again of course, he'd be rid of this little itch as soon as it lost its effect. And until then... He leaned down close to her, felt her scent and knew he wanted her. He'd just have to come up with a good way to wake her up... His mind immediately formed a dozen more or less (mainly more) dirty ways of achieving this, but there was one idea which especially appealed to him. It was good because not only would it wake her up, but it would confuse the hell out of her and might open up for some delicious mental torment later on if he played the game well. Chuckling low to himself, he lifted her chin carefully and placed a soft, loving kiss on her slightly parted lips.

***

Hermione was roused from her sleep by a most wonderful sensation which spread quickly through her body. Someone was kissing her with a tenderness and skill she didn't recognise. Her mind was still heavy with sleep and she found herself just leaning into the other person's touch, enjoying the sensation. The lips left hers and wandered over her face, placing featherlike kisses everywhere before they went for her neck and ear. Strong hands were cupping her face lovingly, caressing it softly and massaging the back of her head. She sighed, this was truly heavenly...

"Hermione..." The voice which spoke her name was husky and it took a couple of seconds before her mind registered whose it was. Her eyes flew open in surprise and she got instant, visual proof that she hadn't been mistaken. Snape still looked the same, but there was something different about the way he was touching her. It was soft and tender and loving, the consuming fire she'd grown accustomed to only a shadow in the background. And he'd called her by her first name... something he'd never done before, and the way he'd whispered it in her ear made her shiver slightly. The word was so soft and alluring on his lips, she felt like he was trying to put a spell on her.

He stopped kissing her neck and came to look down at her. There was something very different with the way he did that too. The look in his eyes spoke of passion and hunger, but there was something else there also, a softness, an incredible tenderness that made her heart ache. It almost looked like... no, she was mistaken, it absolutely couldn't be... She looked again but he closed his eyes almost shyly and bent his head for another lingering kiss. The combined ache in her heart and body made her moan softly and she put her arms around his back to pull him closer to her.

Their kisses made Hermione dizzy. They were simultaneously chaste and passionate, his hands caressing her gently along her face and sides but without going any further. The effect he had on her was so strong it made her want to cry and laugh at the same time. She clung to him, stroking him everywhere, trying to give back some of the incredible pleasure he was bringing forth in her. He was shaking slightly, she noticed, tightening his hold on her like a drowning man clinging to a straw. Somehow, he'd managed to switch their positions so that he was now sitting in the chair and she was lying across his lap. He cradled her like a small child, whispering sweet nonsense words in her ear about how beautiful she was and continuing the wonderful kisses along her face and neck.

It was too much, too intimate, she could almost feel herself melting in his embrace and her kisses growing more intense, promising him her very heart and soul. This was no good, it was dangerous and it had to be stopped now. Desperate to shatter the romantic shimmer which seemed to have enveloped her, she pulled herself up so that she came to straddle him, and started pressing herself erotically against him. He tried to slow her down but she wouldn't let him. Sex she could deal with, sex was ok. This sudden burst of emotion that she'd just experienced wasn't, that had to be stopped, had to be made to fade into oblivion - and what better way to do it than to let yourself be shagged senseless...? She quickly undid his robes and her own and took him inside her, whimpering softly from the pleasure that surged through her body.

Attacking his mouth with ferocious kisses, she started moving hard against him. She concentrated fully on the feel of him inside her, trying not to look at him, to make the experience as impersonal as she possibly could. Her movements were brusquely interrupted when one of his arms caught her in an iron grip, the other grabbing her face firmly, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"No, Hermione," he said silkily, piercing her with his intense look, "you're not going to just use me like this." He moved slowly inside her while holding her perfectly still, making her whimper again, this time with need. "You see, my love, I intend to fully savour this experience and I wish to do it slowly and deliberately. Now, don't move unless I tell you to and keep your eyes open, I want to see your passion..."

She obeyed and looked deeply into his eyes as he moved inside her. It was incredibly intense and the way she could see his passion burn and grow in the black depths of his eyes added to the experience. She felt branded by his look, by his touch, by everything about him, and her reason desperately wanted her to get away from him, to save the small pieces of her heart she could still call her own, before he took them away from her, piece by piece, with every new stroke inside her...

He quickened the pace and urged her to join the rhythm, taking her head in both hands and kissing her with a desperation she remembered from their first encounter. She felt herself losing control, moaning against his mouth and clinging to him like he were the only solid thing in a world falling apart. He broke the kiss and again urged her to look at him as he made the tension in her body build higher than ever before, until, finally, it shattered and she felt wave after wave overtake her, taking her to a place beyond space and time. Holding his gaze firmly, she saw his eyes widen in wonder before he closed them and kissed her hard, finding his own release.

***

Dusk came over Hermione where she sat alone in the corner of the library. She hadn't moved much since Snape left her, too stunned and too confused about what had happened to do much else but stare in to space.

After it was over, when their breathing had started to go back to normal, he'd lifted her off his lap, readjusted his robes and left without a word. Her eyes had followed him as he walked down the aisle towards the exit, but he never looked back. She'd curled up on the chair, feeling empty and drained. How could he make love to her like he just had and then coldly leave without as much as looking at her? She was unsure of how to interpret his behaviour. This wasn't his usual shag-Hermione-senseless-routine, it wasn't just physical anymore. He'd touched her like a devoted lover, kissed her like a man kisses a cherished wife. Had it all been an act? Was this some new little game he'd come up with to torture her?

"I lie for a living" His words from their first night together came back to her and she bit her lip, trying not to cry as confusion and pain filled her heart.

---

Chapter 6 - Déjà Vu

The door to the Potions lab opened and the class walked inside. Hermione went to her desk together with Neville, who was smiling at her whenever she looked at him. She looked around the room, catching first Harry's eye, who smiled at her softly, and then taking in the other students present. Where was he? She looked again towards the teacher's desk and in direction of the hidden door to his chambers. The Potions master was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, the door to the dungeon closed with a bang and she jumped in her seat, not daring to look around but incapable of avoiding doing so. She felt heat rise in her body with every step he took along the aisle, walking towards his desk. It was unbearable to just sit there and not be allowed to touch him. Her body was aching, hurting, having been denied his for so long... She thought back on their meeting in the library the day before and felt familiar tears rise to her eyes. He hadn't come to her room last night, had left her alone for the first night since they came to be under the effects of the potion. She'd waited up for him for hours, finally swallowing her pride and going down to the dungeons to look for him. He hadn't answered when she'd knocked on his door, pleading with him to open and let her in. She knew he'd been there, had felt his presence through the heavy oak, but he'd ignored her, refused her need.

She slowly raised her eyes and looked in the direction of the desk. Snape wasn't looking at her. She followed his movements about the classroom and saw him bend low over Pansy Parkinson's desk, leaning far closer to her than was proper as he asked her questions about her potion. Hermione's heart skipped a beat and her breath was caught in her throat as she saw Snape's hand cover Pansy's, showing her how to effectively dice dried beetles. Jealousy burned inside her and she quickly lowered her head to her desk, trying to control her shaking hands that were threatening to make a mess out of her powdered dragon claw. She worked furiously, ignoring Neville's worried glances and did her best to shut out all sound around her. Her concentration wrapped her in a kind of haze, which wasn't broken until a silky voice penetrated her consciousness:

"... which would be what substance, Miss Granger?"

She jerked her head up, her eyes meeting his for the first time since she'd seen them widen and burn with ecstasy the day before. She searched them for any emotion, but the look he gave her was without expression.

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm afraid I didn't hear the question." She fought hard to keep her voice even and her emotions under check as she again met his gaze.

"My, my... not listening to your professor... well, you do seem incredibly fascinated by your desk, Miss Granger... perhaps you would enjoy a detention tonight... polishing it?” He looked intently at her, pronouncing every word with care, the implied meaning of the sentence all too clear to her as flashes of them together on the hard, smooth wood surged through her mind.

"That's not exactly fair, sir, I-"

"Talking back now, are we? I am your teacher Miss Granger, and it seems you need to be reminded of your place... Maybe scrubbing the floor with a wet cloth... labouring on your hands and knees... would teach you some humility...?"

He walked closer to her desk and she felt her head start spinning from the combined effect of his suggestive words and his closer presence. She couldn't seem to find her tongue, swallowing hard and hoping he wouldn't assist her the way he'd done last time she'd faced that particular predicament. She was furious with him for behaving like this towards her in class, where everybody's eyes were on them, bound to notice the sparks flying between them. Their eyes locked, and what felt like a small eternity passed before his voice broke the silence.

"Detention. Eight o' clock. Tonight." The silky tones made her shudder, but she managed to throw him a mutinous glance before he turned and stalked away to criticise Harry's potion.

"Can you believe him?!" she whispered furiously to Neville, throwing some powdered mandrake root into her cauldron.

"That was very unfair," Neville whispered back with a nod. "He shouldn't give you detention just because you didn't hear his question." He put his arm around her and gave her a small encouraging squeeze "I'm sorry for you... how about I put up some flowers in your room to make you feel better?"

Feeling Snape's eyes on her, she gently stroked Neville over the hair and gave him a big smile, nodding happily at his suggestion.

"Really? That would be so sweet! Your flowers are more beautiful than any I've ever seen in my life... I'd be honoured by such a gift."

He blushed slightly and then took hold of her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissed the back of it softly.
"Your will is my command, milady," he whispered with a playful smile on his lips.

CLANK!

They both jumped around and saw Harry's cauldron roll away on the floor, red potion spreading over the desk and forming pools on the stone beneath it. It looked horribly like blood, dark red and shiny, and Hermione let out a scream when she saw Harry, slumped on the desk in the middle of it all, face pale and motionless...

She tried to run to him, but strong hands held her back and she felt herself be pulled against a hard chest, arms holding her tight as she fought to get free, tears starting to run from her face.

"Scourgify," Snape's voice came from somewhere close by. "Enervate."

Neville loosened his grip slightly and let out a small yelp of joy. She quickly turned around and saw to her relief that Harry had opened his eyes and was looking around the room, disoriented. Snape was towering over him, his face furious.

"20 points from Gryffindor for extreme carelessness in my class, Mr Potter!" he shouted. "Though tragic and pathetic it must be for you to lose out to Longbottom, I refuse to let your tangled love life and lack of self-control endanger my class in this manner." His eyes started to shine with sadistic pleasure as he noticed bright, red rashes spreading over the boy's hands and face. He turned his head.

"Mr Longbottom, kindly unhand Miss Granger and escort Mr Potter here up to the Hospital Wing. Though not terribly surprised at your complete lack of judgement, I remind you too that this is a Potions class, not a dating service." As the boy passed him, he took hold of his arm and added, his voice cold and menacing, "Detention with Filch tonight... and I'll make sure he thinks of something exceedingly unpleasant... Now, get out of my sight, idiot boy!"

He turned to the class and continued:
“Homework: a two foot essay on the uses of dragon claw in potion making, to be handed in on Thursday. Classed dismissed. Miss Granger, in my office, please!" He turned around and swept out of the classroom, robes bellowing behind him.

Neville shot her a worried glance before hoisting Harry to his feet and leading him out the door, heading for the stairs. She stood immobile for a minute, not knowing where to go, before taking a deep breath and walking towards the door at the other end of the classroom.

***

Severus Snape was pacing. "Furious" would have been far too light a word to describe his state of mind just then, and the rhythmic movements were an attempt at gathering at least some self-control before that cursed student of his entered his office. He had to get a grip on himself, he would not allow her the satisfaction of seeing him reduced to this state... He put a hand to his temple and massaged it lightly, trying to block out the memories of the know-it-all Gryffindor who had been constantly in his thoughts for the past four days. Since he'd taken her in the library the day before, the memories had intensified, making something as basic as being conscious into pure torture.

He'd enjoyed the little game in the library. She'd been utterly confused and he'd felt her heart begin to respond to his touch, had seen the need in her eyes turn from just physical to something more and more emotional. She was falling for him alright, he thought with a small smirk, congratulating himself on his performance. Stupid, stupid girl... she ought to realise that a man could not rise to the rank of spy in the Dark Lord's circle without being an excellent actor... He'd played the part of the besotted lover to perfection, and he knew it. Still there was something nagging him deep inside, a small voice telling him that he might have played the part a little too well for his own comfort...

He immediately banished the thought. Sure, he'd felt something when looking into those big hazel eyes, he'd felt a small spark inside him that had made his breath stop for a second at the sight of the incredible emotion he saw in them, but so what? He'd been a bit overwhelmed by the passion, that was all. He'd managed to play the part so well he'd even fooled himself there for a second. It was still alright, he was still in control - hadn't he proved that last night when he didn't go to her?

He massaged his temples harder, trying to ease the headache that was building behind them. He was feeling the full effects of the potion now, not having had her for almost twenty hours. When she'd come knocking on his door the night before, he'd almost had to tie himself down in order not to just rip open the door and pull her to him. He'd pressed himself against the smooth wood of his door, feeling her body on the other side of it, hearing the desperation in her voice as she begged him to let her come in...

It had been one of the hardest nights in his life - in the double sense of the word - and after hours of tossing and turning in bed, getting up now and again to stare into the fire, knowing how easy it would be to just reach for the shimmering powder in the jar and go to her, he'd made himself a batch of Dreamless Sleep Potion and finally got some rest. As soon as he woke up this morning, however, the aches and cravings in his body were back. He was seriously starting to reconsider his promise to himself not to touch Granger until her detention that night but suppressed the tempting thought of taking her as soon as she walked through the door with a deep intake of breath. No. She would not do this to him. He would control himself, would let her suffer for a few hours more. The way she'd been fooling around with Longbottom - Longbottom of all people! - in his class made him almost seethe with fury. The little bitch would pay for trying to play him like that. He'd show her who was in charge of this little game...

"Mind telling me what you think you're doing?"

He turned around abruptly and felt his heart pound heavier in his chest as their eyes locked across the room. Her voice had sounded angry, and the look she gave him now was nothing short of furious. He swallowed hard. She looked incredible.

"Well, Miss Granger, I was trying to teach a class, but somebody interrupted that by doing a rather pathetic interpretation of ‘the young beauty, unfairly treated’, calling Longbottom and Potter to her aid. You really should give up acting, you know, that little performance was bad enough to make me sick."

"Well, I'm sure it wasn't even half as convincing as your own take on the ‘perverse-teacher-hitting-on-student’-routine." Her sarcasm matched his as she stared at him defiantly.

"Jealous are we?" he chuckled lightly. "Well, I can't deny that I find Miss Parkinson's charms a bit more alluring than your own. A bit more developed if you know what I mean... Maybe I should invite her to the detention tonight as well. It would be nice for you to have something to watch as you do your work, don't you think?" He smirked at her outraged expression.

"You are despicable!" she shouted "God, I wish I could just hex you into a bloody pulp!" She seemed to calm down and took a couple of steps towards him, her voice turning silken as she added, "Unfortunately, you have something I need..."

"Sorry, Miss Granger, I'm not interested," he said, managing to keep his voice calm and cool. "I suggest you remove yourself from my sight."

She kept moving towards him, only about ten feet away now, her hands beginning to unfasten the buttons at the top of her robes... He put on his most deadly face, his voice turning to pure ice.

"Go away. I don't want you."

She stopped and just stood looking at him for what felt like an eternity. Then she shrugged and smiled, advancing on him while unfastening more buttons.

"Too bad for you then." He could see her bare shoulders now, creamy skin exposed, so soft, so close... "I've never taken an unwilling man before... should be quite an experience..." She was only a few feet away now, he should push her away, do something... "That is... if you now are unwilling..." her robes fell to the floor, revealing smooth skin covered only by a pair of white knickers and a simple bra. He didn't let out a sound, but found that he couldn't move away either as he took in her form.

She gracefully removed her underwear and then came to a stop in front of him, holding only her wand, close enough so that he could feel the heat coming from her but without their bodies actually touching.

"So, Professor…" Her voice was husky and low, incredibly arousing. "…are you going to cooperate or will I have to force you to help me with my little problem?" She stroked the outline of his arms and torso with her wand, making it travel lower...

With a groan, he let go of all pretence and pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply and letting his body have what it craved. Bloody hell if he was going to suffer any longer or let her manipulate him in this way. He'd show her who was in charge of this little "situation" they were having.

His robes joined hers on the floor within seconds and he turned her around, pinning her against the cold stone wall. She didn't seem to feel the cold at all, her movements desperate now to get him where she wanted him to be, pressing against him, kissing his neck...

"How flexible are you?" His voice low in her ear made her dizzy with desire.

“What?" she looked up at him in confusion. His hand pressed on her thigh and understanding dawned on her. "Oh, well, very flexible actually... I used to do gymnastics as a little girl and I kind of... oh…" Her explanation was interrupted as he lifted her right leg straight up, putting the foot to rest against his shoulder and entered her firmly, pushing her against the wall for balance. His mouth came down on hers as he started to move, turning her slightly to the side to find the perfect angle...

***

Sometime later, she was sitting in Transfiguration, trying her best to hide the smile on her face. Giving correct definitions of complex spells became a lot harder when your thoughts were constantly interrupted by flashes of having incredible sex. Every now and then, she could feel him move inside her, could feel her muscles stretch and contract, remembering the intense pleasure that had flooded her veins as he pressed her tighter against him, increasing the speed...

"Miss Granger, pay attention!"

She snapped up from her reverie and looked around her, embarrassed. Professor McGonagall was looking at her with dismay written all over her face. Hermione quickly sat up straight, putting on her normal "alert student"-face and smiled an apologising smile at her professor. The class went on as normal.

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