Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, propping her Charms book up against her goblet, quietly munching on a piece of toast. Her eyes innocently traced the words on the page, but soon found the man sitting at the end of the staff table, deep in conversation with Professor Dumbledore. Hermione was pleased his long, greasy hair fell over parts of his face; if he caught her looking, he would certainly think something was suspicious. She let gaze linger for a few more seconds, then quickly snapped back to her senses. What was coming over her? Out of all the people at Hogwarts to lust over... she had to choose Professor Snape. Not only is he well over your age, she thought, he's a Slytherin. She made a noise of disgust to herself and sighed. She tried to focus her attention on her Charms book, but found her mind wandering back to him again. I wonder if he likes talking dirty, she thought. She bit her lip. Or if he likes being straddled. She could feel herself tingling. Or if he has a big- Hermione! She caught herself immersed in these dirty thoughts, and sat up straight. Honestly. What would Harry or Ron say if they could read her thoughts?
As if on cue, Harry and Ron appeared and sat down at the table.
"Morning!" said Ron, grabbing some bacon.
"Oh, hey guys. How was Quidditch practise last night?"
Harry rolled his eyes.
"It was raining so hard you could barely see your own broom," he said, buttering some toast. Hermione smiled in pity. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Snape getting up to leave.
"What've we got this morning?" asked Ron.
"Double potions," replied Hermione, a little too quickly, she thought. The boys groaned. Hermione nodded in what she hoped was agreement, but she couldn't help but feel excited. Two whole hours in the dungeons. A few metres away from Snape. She tried not to smile as she stood up and said goodbye to Harry and Ron.
"Wait - where are you going?" asked Ron, surprised. Hermoine shrugged.
"Just need to.. take back some library books."
Ron shook his head exasperatedly as she rushed off. She hurried to the girl's bathroom and got out her almost untouched makeup bag. If Severus Snape is going to be within touching distance of her, he is not going to see the boring, geeky Hermione. He is going to see a gorgeous Hermione. A Hermione he wants to take on the dungeon floor, she thought as she giggled. As she unzipped her bag, she caught sight of herself in the mirror, and she looked at her blouse. It was buttoned up to the top. She looked around quickly to make sure she was alone, then unfastened the top two buttons.

She tucked her hair behind her ears as she looked up from her cauldron. Snape was walking idly around the room, sneering at the Gryffindor's potions, occasionally picking on Neville. He approached Harry, Ron and Hermione's desk, and Hermione's breathing became shallow as she tried desperately to concentrate. He leaned over and inspected Harry and Ron's cauldrons, not bothering to hide his look of impatience. He then moved in closer to inspect Hermione's. Her heart started beating rapidly as he leaned over, his neck an inch away from Hermione's face. She furiously fought the urge to lick him.
"Why is it that dark, Granger? Have you added your dandelion roots?"
"Oh I was just-just about to add them now, Professor," she said nervously, and quickly tipped her chopped up roots into her cauldron and stirred feverishly. He gave her a swift nod, and then his eyes caught sight of her cleavage. He had never seen Hermione in anything other than bulky cloaks or cardigans, and now, here she was, permitting him a glimpse of her breasts. She blushed furiously and could feel herself tingling. Snape suddenly became furious that something like that could distract him, and he straightened up.
"Is there something you want, Granger? Don't you have a potion you should be ruining?" he snapped. She jumped, taken aback, and turned to her cauldron. She fought back tears as he swept back to his desk.
"And 20 points from Gryffindor for wasting my time" said Snape furiously as he sat down. Harry and Ron both opened their mouths to protest but Hermione stopped them.
"Don't. He's not worth it," she said bitterly. Ron sighed and went back to crushing his baneberries.
"Stupid old git," he muttered under his breath. Hermione couldn't help but agree and she stirred her potion angrily. What the hell was she thinking going after him? Suddenly she felt stupid in her revealing blouse. Snape looked up from his desk and stared at Hermione, back turned, measuring some Fluxweed. He stared at her waist and hips, and her perfect arse. He found himself wanting to grab her and take her from behind. For the second time in less than 10 minutes, he found himself being distracted by Hermione Granger. He started throbbing beneath the desk and adjusted his cloak. He spent the next hour and a half trying to keep himself from thinking about that blouse.

Less than a week later, Hermione found herself walking to the Quidditch pitch. Winter was definitely approaching, she thought bitterly, as she clutched her cloak. She was kicking herself for agreeing to watch Ron and Harry training in such miserable weather. A gust of wind almost blew her over as she turned the corner into a corridor. She barely had time to stop her teeth from chattering before she collided with somebody else.
"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry," she apologised, getting up and rubbing her elbow gingerly, not looking up from her arm.
"Careful, Granger," replied an icy voice. The colour drained from her face as she looked up at Snape, who was half-smirking, black cloak billowing in the wind. "And where are you off to on such a... picturesque day?" She gulped and tried to find her words as he towered over her.
"Oh, er, I was just.. I was just going to watch Harry and Ron's Quidditch practise, Professor."
"Such a loyal friend you are," said Snape, lip curling. Hermione said nothing, and instead looked into his dark eyes, and she realised they were standing much closer now. Suddenly, another gust of wind blew her cloak askew, and to her embarrassment, left her chest exposed to him, her nipples clearly visible through her shirt, and her heavy breathing obvious. That was it. It was all too much for Snape. She had completely entranced him. Before she could adjust her cloak or try and make her way past him, he had pushed her against the wall and begun kissing her furiously.

Hermione couldn't think straight as Snape's tongue worked furiously inside her mouth. She was completely overcome with shock, as she realised he had a steel grip around her wrists, which were pinned against the wall above her head. She could feel him throbbing against her, and she began kissing back, leaning in to the kisses, as though being pulled by an invisible force. His hands began on her waist, and had found their way to her arse. He squeezed it hard as he began kissing her neck; his warm, wet tongue an orgasmic sensation on her cold, exposed skin. Neither of them came to their senses until a loud bang echoed in the corridor behind them. Hermione immediately jumped back and Snape stood up straight. Both of them looked utterly stunned. At the same time, they quickly looked around to see what the source of the noise was. Hermione felt something brush up against her leg, and she immediately got out her wand. Mrs. Norris blinked up at her. Snape looked at the cat with contempt. She started meowing loudly, and Snape and Hermione looked at each other, knowing that in a minute, Filch would appear. Hermione chewed her lip, desperately trying to think of a spell they could use. She had barely opened her mouth to suggest one when Snape grabbed her arm and led her to an abandoned classroom. He muttered a locking charm, tapping the door with his wand, and turned around swiftly to face Hermione. Her cloak lay heaped on the floor, and she stood, shirt completely unbuttoned, facing him. She was breathing much heavier now, and her heart was racing. Snape couldn't take his eyes off her heaving chest. He lunged forward, his lips finding hers, and she seemed to sink into him. As if they both knew what to do, Hermione began unfastening his cloak while he unclasped her bra. Snape, overcome with passion, pushed Hermione onto the desk. She let out a small moan as he began working his tongue around her nipples, gently playing with them as they hardened. His hands, resting on her hips, began working their way down. He unzipped her jeans, and slid his hand inside her soaking underwear. Hermione, completely overcome, could do nothing as he began stroking her clit, beginning gently, then getting more forceful. His fingers worked inside her, and he was careful to tease her. He would lightly trace over her clit, then suddenly push his fingers in deeper, causing Hermione to tense. Before she could stop herself, she moaned.
"Oh, Severus."
This was the first time he'd heard her use his first name. He wanted to come right then and there. He felt himself about to burst, so he quickly unbuttoned his pants and tossed them aside. Hermione, knowing what was about to happen, was beside herself. He grabbed her hips and thrust himself inside her. She moaned again, this time louder, as he began moving back and forth, grunting. Hermione had only dreamed of this moment and never imagined it would come true, as she lay on the desk, letting pleasure take over. She wrapped her legs around him tighter, as she bit her lip, trying not to moan too loudly. He smirked as he watched her face, a face torn between wanting to remain in control and wanting to lose it. He began thrusting even harder, and she couldn't control herself any longer, letting out a deep moan. As he watched her breasts bounce and her hands clutch the sides of the desk, he could feel himself about to come, and he began thrusting as hard as he could. The build up had completely engulfed Hermione, and her back arched as she began to climax, her head back, half-moaning half-screaming; a massive wave of pleasure dominating her. She looked up at Snape as he came, a massive tremble sweeping through him, and he let out a low groan as they both collapsed on the desk.

As if coming out of a dream, Snape abruptly stood up. His face was contorted with rage as he looked down at Hermione lying on the desk. The intense pleasure she experienced a moment ago began to vanish as she sat up, looking confusedly back at him, not knowing what to say.
"Is... is everything.. alright?" she asked timidly. He said nothing, but stormed across the room to where his pants and cloak lay, and began to dress silently. Hermione grew uneasy.
"... S-Severus?"
He stopped, turned to her and got out his wand, holding it less than an inch away from her face. Hermione's eyes widened in fear.
"How dare you, Granger. It is Professor." His voice shook angrily. He lowered his wand, his black eyes burning into her brown ones, and then fastened his cloak, making his way to the door. She thought he was going to leave, but he threw her clothes at her. She jumped off the desk and hastily dressed herself, feeling ashamed and bewildered. She put on her cloak and walked to the door, where Snape was standing, waiting for her, it seemed. He left the room first, scanning the corridor for any passing students or staff. He jerked his head, gesturing for Hermione to come out, then he pulled her aside against the wall of the corridor, leaving her briefly winded.
"If you tell anybody about this, I'll have you flunking every class you could ever imagine. And that's only the beginning.." He trailed off menacingly. Hermione caught a glimpse of the Dark Mark on his arm and swallowed nervously. "Do we understand each other, Miss Granger?" His hand was gripping her wrist tightly. She nodded. He let go of her, and shot her a brief look before walking quickly down the corridor, his black cloak swishing behind him. Hermione, heart racing, half-ran back to Gryffindor tower, barely noticing the harsh winds this time. Harry and Ron hadn't returned from Quidditch practise yet, and she didn't care. All she could think about was Severus Snape, and how, after such an impulsive and pleasurable experience, he just threw her aside. Of course, she thought. Of course he threw her aside. What was she expecting? That they'd kiss and cuddle afterwards? For God's sake, Hermione, she thought angrily to herself. He's Severus Snape. A Slytherin professor. A Death Eater. And you're Hermione Granger. Some dorky, half-muggle Gryffindor student. She gnawed on one of her nails and sighed, because she knew deep, deep down, that despite the underlying feeling of shame and self-resentment, she'd give anything for another moment like that. Anything.