Title: Every Girl's Dream…

Main Pairing: Severus/Hermione

Summary: Hermione, complete with Polyjuice, indulges in a one-night stand with Professor Snape and then leaves to start pursuing her adult life, post-Voldemort. Severus is not happy, finally free, to learn of her trickery, but cannot help but be intrigued by the girl's Slytherin cunning. All too soon, he finds that the little bookworm has managed to worm her way into his subconscious. And he decides, knowing that he took her virginity, that no one else will have her but him.

Chapter One- The Night before Graduation

Hermione Granger took a deep breath, before heading once more to Myrtle's bathroom. She'd thought her plan through and had only one more night to implement it. As far as she could tell, there were no more glitches to her plan at all. All she needed now was the courage to follow through on her actions.

"Are you sure you've got the right sort of hair this time?"

She was startled, jumping away from the cauldron as Myrtle came into sight. "Myrtle!" She exclaimed, clasping a hand to her chest. "By Merlin! Don't sneak up on me!"

The ghostly girl giggled. "Sorry," she said insincerely. "But remember what happened last time you tried this potion."

Hermione scowled. She should have never encouraged Myrtle to start hanging out with the Bloody Baron. Not only was he coming out of the dungeons more often, but Myrtle had developed a decidedly Slytherin side that Hermione did not approve of. "I was only in Second Year!" She protested. "And I've checked my sources this time, thank you very much."

She quickly bottled the potion and then grabbed the hair she had collected earlier. She inserted the hair into a vial of the potion and it immediately turned into an oddly disturbing orangish-brown mixture.

"Ew." She said, wrinkling her nose. "I should have tried to improve the taste."

Still, she gamely held her nose and raised the vial to her mouth. She drank it in one large swallow, trying in vain to turn off her taste buds.

As she was alone, she didn't worry about anyone seeing the change as her body began morphing. Her bushy brown hair smoothed, turning a deep auburn. Her pale skin turned golden, her simple B-cups turned into generous C's and she grew about four inches in height. She looked in the mirror and Daphne Greengrass looked back at her.

"Wicked." She breathed, impressed in spite of herself. After failing miserably in Second Year, she'd had some lasting fears that her plan might have failed simply because of the Polyjuice. But she'd mastered it, just as she mastered everything else she'd set her sights on.

She allowed herself a few more minutes to bask in her success, but then quickly got to work. Her robes hadn't suffered any with her transformation, though her top was considerably more strained at the bosom than before, but a Slytherin wouldn't be caught dead with the Gryffindor seal on her chest and that meant the uniform had to be changed anyways.

She quickly grabbed the spare uniform she had begged off of Daphne and changed. When she finished, before she threw on the black robe that would hide her uniform, she had to suppress a laugh. Though Daphne was usually almost as conservative as she herself was, the uniform was almost daring in its parsimony. The skirt just touched mid-thigh and the shirt was almost tighter than her original was. Only the Slytherin crest on the shirt proved she had changed clothes.

Leave it Daphne to consider everything. If nothing else, this 'uniform' would seduce any man. Hopefully.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she quickly tied her Slytherin tie and then threw on her robe.

She didn't allow herself a moment to think, taking off immediately for the dungeons. She didn't stop until she was standing before his office, immediately raising her hand to knock.

As Daphne had warned her, there was no immediate answer. Snape didn't have an outside portrait that led to his quarters; they actually ran through his office. But he had a special ward set up that would announce visitors to his office and, should he deem them worthwhile, he would acknowledge their presence when he could spare a moment.

Only then did Hermione stop, letting herself think about what exactly she was doing. She shivered, gathering her robes more tightly around her. Tonight was either going to go down as one of the best nights of her life or one of the worst. Daphne had assured her it would be the best, that their plan was foolproof. Hermione still was foreseeing a fifty-fifty percent outcome.

The door swung open before she could build up a steady stream of self-chastisements for her plan, revealing Severus Snape, Potions Master.

He looked no different than he had for the last seven years she'd known him. Tall, pale, dressed from neck to toe in black and buttons. All that was missing from his usual image was his long and flowing overrobe, which was usually billowing behind him as he stalked back down to the dungeons.

"Miss Greengrass?" He inquired in that gorgeous silky voice of his, one eyebrow quirking questioningly. There were slight differences however in his manner. When he spoke to Hermione, he usually had that angry glint in his eyes and that deep furrowed brow as he worked to find some fault with her. "Is something the matter?"

She snapped out of her thoughts, carefully Occluding even as she frantically worked to remember the 'script' Daphne had worked with her on. "Professor, if you have a moment free," she said in a calm and careful tone. "I'd like to speak with you. In Private."

She emphasized her last word, conscious of Daphne's tutoring, and was rewarded when both of his eyebrows rose. Daphne had explained that was Slytherin Speak for "I need your help and I need you to take this secret to your grave". Apparently it was common enough around Slytherins, though Hermione couldn't help but think they were all mostly overdramatic.

"Of course," he said, stepping back and pulling the door open. "Come in, please."

"Thank you, sir." Hermione released her stranglehold on her robes and walked in majestically, mimicking perfectly the oh-so-elegant walk that she often teased her friend about.

His office seemed, if possible, even more terrifying at night, when he didn't even bother with the lighting charms that allowed you to at least see everything that was staring back at you. Now, the only light was from the slit in the wall behind his desk, which pierced the strange jars to the right of his desk, making some of them glint oddly.

"Why don't we retire to my quarters," she jumped as she heard the Potions Master speak.

When she swung around, she saw him watching her closely, arms crossed over his chest. He'd noticed her preoccupation with his office! "Erm, yes sir." She had no choice but to obey him.

He walked with her the length of his office. When he touched the small slit, the wall slid apart far enough to form a doorway. It closed as soon as they walked through.

All too aware of the stupid mistake she had made, Hermione made sure not to gawk as she walked into his sitting room. There were two armchairs, both black, seated before a roaring fireplace with only a small wooden table between them. There was a desk just to the left of the doorway and another doorway set just beside the fireplace. Other than that, the walls were covered with bookshelves that were literally overflowing with books.

What she wouldn't do to spend just an hour in that room. Or a day, or a week, or a year…

But that was getting ahead of herself. There was no chance of that happening and only the slightest of chances of what she intended to actually happen.

"Miss Greengrass, you do not seem to be your usual self." She turned to the Professor as he spoke again.

"I apologize, sir." She said, bowing her head. "I'm a little nervous," she admitted.

"Hm." He said neutrally. She snuck a glance at him and was immediately captivated by his dark eyes. They were pitch black and seemed to look right through her. "Why don't you have a seat," he said after only a moment, more than aware that she was staring at him. "And we shall see if we can't fix whatever problem is making you so nervous." He offered, waving her to the armchairs.

She meekly made her way over to the armchairs; sitting down on the one she noticed didn't have a book lying on the arm. As she sat, she also noticed a single glass of an amber-coloured liquid on the table. She could smell the alcohol, though she had no idea what sort it was.

He took his seat, sitting down smoothly after she had seated herself. He picked up his book, taking a glance at the page number, before setting it on the table, closed correctly. After smoothly crossing his legs, he turned fully towards her. "And how may I be of service to you today?" He asked courteously.

It was absolutely unnerving for Hermione to see him so polite, after using facing nothing but contempt for so many years, and it only made her heart beat even harder. If this didn't work, she might just Obliviate her. To be so close and to fail might be more than she could handle.

Daphne had warned her, though, that Snape was polite to his Snakes, so she wasn't quite worried yet. She crossed her hands on her lap, more for time to calm down than anything, before looking up at him. Another warning; Daphne had said that he disliked small talk. "Sir, I have a problem." She said. "I am to marry Blaise Zabini within a month of leaving school."

That was true; Daphne had been put into a marriage contract by her father, who had only just got around to telling her about it. After a night of despair, Daphne had been resigned to her fate and had craftily worked the knowledge into Hermione's plan. Daphne was not at all happy about having to marry the Lothario, but that was their concern for next week.

"I had heard of that," the man said, looking at her carefully. He saw no tears, but he saw more than a little bit of fear, and thought he knew where the conversation was going. "I take it you are not pleased with the news."

"Pleased!" Hermione didn't have to fake her outrage, for she was almost as angry as Daphne. Blaise had all but ignored Daphne for seven years, when not teasing her for being the Ice Princess of Slytherin. "How anyone could be pleased with such news-"

She broke off, suddenly realizing whom she was speaking with. "Sorry sir," she said hastily. "But I find myself…less than pleased with the outcome. Though I knew marriage was in my foreseeable future, I had expected to be contracted to someone older." Much older, Daphne had bitterly confessed. "And, truth be told, I thought I'd have some time to reconcile myself with such an ordeal. But now, I am to be married so soon."

"I have no doubt that you will rise to the occasion," the Professor said. "You are one of the best students I've ever taught. You have a keen intellect that you can apply anywhere."

"Thank you, sir." Hermione said, unable to hold back a smile. Though she knew he was speaking to Daphne, she'd longed to hear such words for years. "But," she added, smile fading, "You know of the difficulties Zabini and I have had through the years. How my father could overlook such a thing, I do not know." She added, almost to herself. She still didn't quite understand why Daphne just didn't go tell her father she wouldn't do it. Pureblood tradition or not, the girl still had to agree to the contract. And Daphne obviously didn't.

The Professor nodded calmly. "And what do you intend to do about it?" He asked curiously.

"I will follow my father's wishes." She said, parroting the only response Daphne would give her anymore. Then she moved onto the script Daphne had written her again. It was so devilish, only a Slytherin could have scripted it. "But, I don't have to be disadvantaged to Zabini when we are married. Not if I have help."

She turned her eyes towards him. "I'd like to ask for your help, sir."

He shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable. She noticed, however, that he was still watching her intently.

"I spoke of my difficulties discreetly with the girls in the dorms and was directed to a few older girls. I received an owl back from Katrina Flint, who was married off to Abraxas Avery a few years ago. I think she graduated when I was a second year." Hermione went on with her script when he made no move to speak. "She advised me to speak with you. It seems she had a similar problem."

"Yes." Snape spoke up finally. "She and Avery had a relationship much like your own, though she was much more active in fighting with him. You've maintained you habit of ignoring him while she was quite vicious. But yes, come her seventh year, she was in much the same position that you found yourself. More than a few young ladies have found themselves in your position and I always encourage them to talk with their parents." He shifted, leaning forward. "What happened with her was an extreme that I do not like to contemplate. But she felt she had no other choice-"

"Sir, I assure you- I am most definitely in the same position as Kat." Hermione mimicked his position, trying desperately to retain Daphne's cool façade. "I have no other option. But I am not like Ashley Pucey, simply afraid of the wedding night." Daphne had been adamant that she make this point, correctly pointing out that Snape did not believe in pity. It had to be a deviously Slytherin reason, not merely fright, as that would not prove a sufficient excuse for Snape. "I will not let him win. He knows nothing about my life. I can't let him be proved right."

She saw immediately that it was the right thing to say. He immediately relaxed, looking much more comfortable. "I can support that sort of reasoning much more than anything else," he said, "but you still need to consider what you're asking. I'm old enough to be your father."

"Sir, I understand that." She hurried to explain. "But I can be comfortable. I've always had a great respect for you and your accomplishments. I know many girls have a crush on you at some point in their Hogwarts career, but since I'm being honest here, I can admit that I've never really grown out of that phase. That I get this chance, especially knowing what it'll do to Zabini, is beneficial to me in so many ways." She allowed herself to smirk, that devious little smirk that Daphne got when she began thinking up a way to one-up Zabini. The girl really was devious, as she managed to hide that mischievous side of hers so well under her prim side that very few people even knew she had it in her.

"I'm glad to hear you thinking like a Slytherin." Snape said, his face falling into its neutral position. "Many young ladies begin panicking and refuse to think clearly when they find themselves in your position. You have a clear-cut plan and have already defined the benefits to yourself. A true Slytherin."

He nodded, searching her face. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find it, for he grabbed the alcohol he had and abruptly drained it. "Well," he said, looking at the glass as if regretting the liquid was gone. "I am honoured, of course. You are a very attractive young lady. I don't mind telling you that I am a bachelor man and am well-versed in one night stands. You will not have any problems with that, am I correct in saying that?"

"Of course, sir." She said at once. "I spoke with Kat quite extensively about this; I know what to expect. All I'm looking to get out of this is the satisfaction of seeing Zabini's face when he realizes I'm not the Virgin Queen he claims that I am."

Here, she could finally allow her earnestness show through. She allowed hope to feel her face and could literally feel when he accepted her offer.

"Very well." He said, standing and extending a hand to her. "Then I suppose we should retire to my bedroom."

Long time, no see. For anyone waiting for updates, I'm sorry it's been so long, but this semester has been killing me. Senior year in college- the horror. I promise, both of my other fics will be updated before Christmas. Next week is finals week and then I'll be free! Of course, because finals are rapidly approaching, I am of course struck with extreme laziness and this fic grew out of a wonderful, wonderful day dream of mine. Just a little bit of fun I enjoyed that I hope other Snape-lovers will too.

Cheers,

Minara.