There are words no student wants to hear: "Please report to the headmaster's office." Hermione Granger was particularly frightened of those words. They usually meant something was wrong, she had done something unacceptable. Something not even her Head of House could handle.

She went to Dumbledore's office as requested, her nerves singing with fear as she sat at his desk. He didn't look upset, but she knew he could be misleading.

"Miss Granger, hello. Fizzing Whizbee?" he offered.

"No thank you, sir. I was just wondering why I'm here," Hermione said, her voice trembling just a bit.

Dumbledore laughed good-naturedly. "Miss Granger, there's nothing to worry about. In fact, it is something that might please you. You're nearing your seventeenth birthday, which means you will become a fully fledged witch."

Hermione nodded, having been looking forward to the day. It was now September twelfth. Her birthday was the nineteenth. She would be the first in the sixth year to hit age seventeen.

"When a witch or wizard turns seventeen, their magic expands. Expanding magic could be dangerous, possibly deadly to the magician and to those around them. You need someone experienced to ground you," Dumbledore said. "Someone to tie your magic to you. It is a rite of passage each and every one of us have taken."

"I had heard about grounding, but the books aren't allowed to be read by anyone not yet seventeen," Hermione said. "What does grounding entail, sir?"

Was it her imagination, or did Dumbledore look like he was blushing?

"Well, it's a delicate subject. Expanding magic can only be controlled when the young witch or wizard couples with an experienced one. Nine times out of ten, it need only happen once. The specifics I will leave your partner to explain."

Her mouth dropped. Was he telling her she needed to have sex or else her magic could kill someone?

"I know it sounds inappropriate, and you do not have to agree," Dumbledore continued, "but it is for the best if you did. I can assure you that you will be completely safe."

"If I don't?" she asked.

Dumbledore looked at her gravely over his half-moon spectacles. "Then you run the risk of killing not just yourself, but your friends as well."

"I don't understand why you have to serve detention. For once you didn't even speak out of turn today," Harry commented as they left the Great Hall after dinner. "And it's your birthday on top of it!"

"Yeah, McGonagall was really out of line," Ron added.

Hermione shrugged. Evidently, the rule of a witch with expanding magic was not to talk about it. She was the first in her year to turn seventeen, so none of them had any idea of what she was going to go and do. She saw some seventh years nodding at her in solidarity, including Katie Bell.

Hermione did some homework and then left for her...she wasn't even sure what to call it. Hell, she didn't even know who was going to shag her! Was it to be a seventh year? A Healer? Did the Wizarding World use male and female prostitutes? She hated uncertainty more than almost anything.

She went to McGonagall's office, and the witch looked a mixture of proud and apprehensive. "Come, Granger, there is a room we have just for this, to control the magic," the professor said. "It's in the dungeons for safety reasons, opposite the Potions classroom. Now, it has been over fifty years since my Expansion, so I cannot offer any advice to you, dear. Just know it will make you a better witch in the long run with much more control."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you, ma'am. I admit I am nervous."

"There's no need to be. As long as you're here, you're safe," she said with a small smile.

That made her feel a bit better. If McGonagall was confident, she couldn't be in for anything too difficult.

As she made her way down the stairs to the dungeons, she was thankful that she wasn't a virgin. Being untouched would have made this so much worse.

The air got colder the lower she got, giving her gooseflesh and pebbling her nipples beneath her bra and blouse. She had no idea who was going to be her partner, so she needed to be sure she was at least a little aroused already.

She paused outside the Potions classroom, taking a breath of the herbs and chemicals. The room, Professor Snape's melodic voice, they always seemed to calm her down. (Even with him not teaching Potions anymore, she'd always consider this his classroom.) Arousing her...well she figured it would be better not to think about him. It was a childish crush, nothing more. And to accidentally call whomever this was by her professor's name would be mortifying.

Standing outside the room, she took a deep breath and placed her hand on the knob. She hadn't been so nervous, not even facing down Death Eaters in the Department Of Mysteries.

C'mon, you weren't put into Gryffindor for nothing, she thought, taking a deep breath and opening the door. The room was basic, soft carpeting, a cupboard, an end table, and a large bed with what looked like silk sheets in deep whiskey hues. There was a roaring fireplace and two armchairs. It was the person occupying one of the chairs that made her pause and her courage flood out of her like spilled potion.

"Miss Granger, so nice of you to finally show up."

"Professor Snape." How she managed to get the words out, she had no idea. Her body felt numb. "What are you doing here?"

He scoffed, steepling his fingers below his chin and staring holes into her with those glittering black eyes of his. "I will give you three guesses, Granger. Sit down."

She did as commanded, her near constant lust over the former Potions Master warring with her fear. It was one thing to fantasise about the former Death Eater and spy, but entirely another to put her body at his mercy. Snape was cold, calculating, and unashamedly cruel. Her stomach gave a jolt at the thought of what he could do to her and she berated herself for it.

The thought of your professor hurting you while he shags you is not supposed to be exciting, she chastised herself.

"Well, Granger, you know why you're here and what needs to be done," he said, sounding as disinterested as he did when he had lectured first years on bubotuber pus. "But I do know it was left to me-again-to explain the proper intricacies to you.

"When a seventeen-year-old couples with an experienced elder, it creates a spiritual conduit from the elder to the teen, centreing the magic inside of the one with less experience. Once we are done, we each have a short incantation to recite."

Snape handed her a piece of parchment. His line was to be, "Fortitudo mea, tibi fertur." Hers was to be, "Potentiam tuam, centrum me."

"And...that's it?" Hermione asked. "Sounds deceptively simple."

Snape nodded. "It does, doesn't it? However, I have been the elder chosen ever since I became employed at Hogwarts-a young man barely out of my teens as well-and I can assure you it really is that simple...providing you do not mind having sex with a professor."

Hermione felt a deep blush suffuse her face.

"Now to the more...uncomfortable questions." Snape sat forward a bit. "Are you a virgin?"

"No, sir."

He cocked an eyebrow but said nothing. "This must be done with no physical protection. Do you know how to cast contraceptive charms? And are you currently taking any contraceptive potions?"

"No, I'm not. And yes, sir, I can perform the charm."

"Good. ...This works better the harder the sex is. Have you any objections? I warn you, there is a chance you'd have to do this again if it didn't work the first time," Snape warned.

Hermione felt a thrill go through her body at that. "No objections, sir. I admit I am a little nervous."

At that, Snape reached into the pocket of his black robes and handed her a phial with murky white liquid. Calming potion.

"I had assumed you'd require this. You always have been a bit high-strung, Miss Granger." Was it her imagination, or was he smirking at her?

"Thank you, sir." She drank the potion quickly, feeling its warming effect in her belly. She glanced at him cautiously, wondering how this would begin. In return, his glare was calculating, assessing. She felt like a prize horse being sized up before a big race.

Snape said, "Stand, Miss Granger. The good thing about being a Legilimens and having taught you for all these years is I know you much better than you know yourself. You needn't worry: I will make this...pleasurable for you."

She stood, and Snape stood as well, placing warm hands on her shoulders from behind. "Obey me, Granger, and our magic will assist in a wondrous release."

Her breath caught as that silky voice slithered in her ear and she nodded.

"Strip down to your lingerie," he ordered. He backed away from her and she felt his eyes on her from behind. Trembling fingers reached for her tie, unknotting it and then starting on the buttons of her white blouse.

"Face me."

Reluctantly, she turned to her professor. Her blouse was mostly open and untucked from her skirt. She glanced up a moment and saw his black eyes roving over her, drinking her in. She had never been looked at like that, not even by Krum, who was her only other sexual partner. She had always been the nerd, the goody goody, one of the guys.

She slipped the blouse from her shoulders and placed it and the tie on the chair she had just vacated. She slipped the skirt down her slim hips and did the same.

"Stop," Snape said when she had gone to reach for her socks and shoes. "Just the shoes. Leave the socks and lingerie for now."

He stepped closer to her, touching her skin for the first time. A single finger traced its way from her pinked cheek, to her lips, down her throat, and to the edge of her pink lace bra. She shivered, feeling her nipples pebble harder. She knew he could probably see them through the fabric.

"Lovely," he murmured, paying her the first compliment since they'd met. "Despite doing many of these a year, I can assure you that this is never just business. I always intend to savour every...single...encounter."

He moved his hand lower, over the swell of her breast, down her abdomen, over her flat belly, and then down her hip and thigh, coming to rest at the crevice of her hip and arse cheek. She looked into those obsidian pools defiantly, refusing to show her nervousness.

"You're brave, Miss Granger. Few have the courage to look me in the eye during this period," Snape observed, his grip on her arse tightening. His other hand came to rest in her thick hair as he pulled her closer, tasting her lips.

She was shocked; she hadn't expected kissing to be involved. He had one talented tongue as he plundered her mouth, making her turn to a puddle of wet heat. She gasped into his mouth, pressing her body closer to his as he grabbed her hard enough to leave bruises on her hips.

He pulled his mouth from hers and trailed wet kisses down her throat, biting and sucking marks into her pale skin as she arched even more, the pleasure-pain driving her heady with need. One of his hands made its way down her thigh, lifting her leg and pulling her panty-clad wetness flush against his crotch. She could feel his hot, throbbing erection even through his trousers.

"Oh God…" she moaned.

He chuckled against her neck. "Not quite." Still holding her, he manouevered them across the room, gently depositing Hermione onto the bed.

She looked up at him, the usually cold and controlled professor, and saw the fire deep in those black eyes, sending shivers through her. He looked like he wanted to eat her whole, and at this moment she'd let him.

His long fingers began to remove his frock coat, sliding it from slim shoulders and sending it across the room, leaving him in his high-necked white shirt and black ascot. He slipped the black silk from around his throat and held it between his hands, seeming to think for a moment. Gesturing from the ascot to her, he asked, "Do you trust me?"

Going against all better judgement she whispered, "Yes, sir."

"Sit up." As she did so, he went to tie it around her eyes.

"Wait," she said. He pulled back, confused. "I just...I thought you meant my hands. I-I want to see you, sir."

He arched an eyebrow-fuck why is he so sexy when he does that?-and said, "Very well, Miss Granger. Hands above your head."

She leaned back against the plush pillows with her hands out. Snape came to the side of the bed and tied the black silk around her wrists, not so tight she couldn't get out, but tight enough where she'd need to work very hard to escape.

He stood back in front of the bed and pulled his wand from his trouser pocket. With a careless flick, she realised he'd spelled away her lingerie, leaving her bare save for her white school socks.

He began to remove his shirt, slipping it down arms that were nearly as pale as the shirt itself was. Snape was thin but wiry, light black hairs covering the centre of his chest, leading downwards and disappearing into his trousers as he also slipped them off. He wasn't handsome, not by any means, but he was sexy. She could see his erection pressing against his pants, wanting to get out.

Snape's hand ran up her leg, over her thigh, and brushed against her wet folds, making her squirm. He slipped a finger inside, just a caress.

"And here I thought I'd need to prepare you," he said. He inserted a second finger. His hands were bigger than Hermione's, and his fingers stretched her more than her own did and she moaned at the feeling. She watched him smile at her reaction as he curled his fingers, hitting that spot that Krum had had so much difficulty locating.

"Oh fuck, Professor," she gasped out.

"Such language for Gryffindor's golden girl," Snape teased, pressing his thumb to her clit. Sparks shot all through her body as she arched her hips into his touch. With his free hand, he roughly shoved her back down. "Tonight, you are under my control."

She wasn't about to argue as he increased his pace, shoving his fingers roughly inside of her as his hand left bruises on her hip.

"Come for me," he commanded, his dark eyes never leaving hers.

At his command, she shattered around him, coating his hand with her juices as she experienced one of the best releases of her life at the hands of her professor.

He smirked at her as she came down from her high, sweat beading her forehead. Carefully he removed his fingers and walked around the bed. Snape removed his pants, revealing his thick, reddening cock, already dripping with precome.

He reached for her face and placed the two fingers already covered in her come to her lips and said, "Suck."

She did, tasting herself as she licked his fingers clean like a cat.

Snape groaned, fisting his cock as she mimicked fellatio on his fingers before he pulled them from her mouth. Deftly, much more so than she would have thought, he swung himself onto the bed, knees on either side of her neck and cock just inches from her face.

"Let's see how that know-it-all mouth of yours handles this," he said. He guided the head of his cock to her lips, just pressing against them, covering them with his precome before he slipped the head past her lips.

Her tongue lapped at the head, pressing against the slit, making him groan. She loved getting that sort of reaction out of impassable Severus Snape, the bat of the dungeons. While she was certain that she wasn't the first, it still gave her a sense of pride to get that response from him.

"Don't get that look, Granger," he growled. "Don't forget, you're the one tied up here." He rolled his hips, sending the first few inches into her mouth as she began to suck him. The velvet-over-steel feeling of his cock, the weight of him just above her, was too much. She was very nearly ready to come again.

Snape braced himself on the headboard and rolled his hips further, and Hermione choked around his cock, determined not to let her gag reflex get the better of her. He pulled out, leaving just the head inside, and then sunk himself back in, all at once. He did this a few times, and tears fell from Hermione's eyes as she did her best to accommodate his size and not choke.

"That's it, suck my cock like a good girl," he told her, beginning to fuck her throat in earnest, his balls hitting her chin with every thrust.

Though tears kept falling, her twat was getting wetter and wetter, she felt her juices soaking her thighs and she desperately needed to be fucked properly.

In a few moments, Snape pulled himself fully from her mouth, leaving a trail of spittle and precome between his tip and her lips. He wiped it away and bent down, crushing her lips to his in a violent kiss.

He propped himself up with one hand while the other squeezed one of her breasts, pinching a nippel between his fingers.

Hermione gasped into the kiss, arching her breast up for more attention and this time Snape didn't scold her.

He broke the kiss, moving down to cover the other nipple with his lips, sucking on it like she'd sucked on his cock before he bit down and she screamed at the insane sensations she felt.

"Oh God, Professor… Professor please!" she said, not even ashamed to beg.

"Please what, Hermione?" he asked, looking at her with that searing gaze. "What do you want. Use your words, girl, you're good at that."

"Please fuck me, sir," she begged. "I need you."

He chuckled, biting down onto her neck. "As you wish." Swiftly, in one long stroke, he was inside of her, stretching and filling her and she cried out at the intrusion. He was flush against her, letting her get used to his size. "How's that feel?"

"Like Hell if you don't move, sir," Hermione said.

He squeezed her hips just a little harder. "Be nice, Hermione. Remember you're still at my mercy."

"I don't want your mercy, sir," Hermione said, realising he'd said her given name twice already. "I just want you to fuck me." I have wanted it since last year and I don't know why!

"With pleasure." He pulled out and slammed back in, rattling the bedframe as he did so. He found a rhythm he liked and began steadily fucking her, his cock sliding in and out easily. Each thrust was a little harder than the last and she felt like she was being speared alive, torn in half by that magnificent cock.

Hermione arched her hips, trying to meet him at each thrust but eventually gave up and gave into the amazing pleasure and pain he was giving her.

"Yes, that's it," he hissed. "You take cock so well, I should just keep you here. My Gryffindor sex slave." He chuckled against her skin, diving deep inside of her and staying there for just a moment.

And I'd be happy to stay, she thought. She saw him smirk and nearly died: he was using Legilimency on her, the bastard!

He increased his pace again, angling upwards and making her see stars. He reached down with one hand and fingered her clit, hard. "Come for me. Come, Hermione, come on my cock." He bit down on her shoulder and she came with a shout, calling out his given name as she had so many times in her fantasies.

He came right after her, and she felt her insides being coated with his hot seed.

"The spell," he said, breathless, and then said his part. "My power, centered in you."

"Your power, centred in me."

Hermione saw magic surrounding them both, centreing to the place where they were still physically connected. It was pure white, and she felt calm inside. Powerful. Filled.

Snape placed his hand over her heart and kiss on her lips.

She loved the feel of his lips against hers and for the first time she closed her eyes, savouring this moment.

He slipped out of her, and the warm feeling faded, leaving nothing but a tingle on her skin. She opened her eyes and he gazed at her for a moment before looking away.

"The ritual is complete," he said, his voice barely audible. "You may go whenever you please."

Hermione went to get up, but stopped. "Can I-that is… Could I stay? Just a bit longer?"

She placed a hand on his arm and slid it down, holding onto his.

He sighed and pulled the duvet over them both. "Until curfew, then, Miss Granger."

"It's Hermione."

He snorted. "So it is, in this room only."