Author's Note: Just wanted to answer some reviews real quick. I'm sure more than one person thought that Snape was a bit OOC, but for a man who just survived death and realizes what he wants… not to mention, a Slytherin… he's not going to be gentle about it, or slow for that matter. You don't have to agree with me, but that's where it's coming from.

Also, in regards to Possessive!Snape, I'm glad so many of you like him that way. I want to thank the well-put review of mmh who agrees with me in that submitting to the right dominant male isn't a bad thing. And trust me, before the story is done, Hermione's going to play her role.

One last thing, and I'll let you read. I apologize for not marking this as AU, and I'm sorry for anything I stirred up online for not doing so. I suppose it is AU, with Snape being alive, everyone returning to Hogwarts to finish a seventh year, and Draco being a friend of everyone. I just think that war would change people; kind of like 9/11 brought a lot of folks together, which might not have happened otherwise.

Thanks for all the reviews, and enjoy this second chapter (in which I switch perspectives to our favorite Golden Girl).

H~S~H~S

Hermione was still smiling slyly as her imperious Potions Master slipped her off his shoulder and down onto his bed. Her hands slid up and down the black silk sheets, and she found herself surprised by the pure sex Snape's room oozed.

But it was nothing compared to the man in front of her, who was pinning her with such lust-filled eyes, Hermione shivered. She suddenly felt very aware of the fact that she was sprawled at the end of his bed, probably looking much disheveled; she felt very much at his mercy, and a part of her bristled. In all her nineteen years, she'd never felt so out-of-control; not even during the war. Yes, the Battle at the Department of Mysteries had been unexpected, but she had been sure of herself and her spells, and sure that the Aurors would come. Yes, being trapped at Malfoy Manor had unnerved her; but for some reason, all throughout the traumatizing experience that was the war, she'd held faith that they would win.

And, as her eyes coasted over Severus Snape's unyielding stance, she wasn't so sure she would emerge the victor this time.

Do you want to? a voice inside her asked traitorously. Since returning to Hogwarts, she was sure she had well-hidden any respect bordering on the obsessive for the Potions Master. And her hurt, for that matter, at the way he completely ignored how she'd been there for him throughout his entire recovery. She didn't want to think about how much her heart hurt; or that, however much it did hurt, she still touched herself every night thinking about Snape.

Snape moved then, and his body covered hers, but he didn't descend. Instead, he held himself up by his hands, pressed into the mattress on either side of her. His dark head dipped, and he nuzzled the valley between her breasts with his over-large nose, his heated breath causing shivers to erupt all over her body. Hermione found she couldn't even draw a breath as he nuzzled his way up to her neck, where he pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat before stepping back, just as her arms tried to come up and tug him to her lips.

His eyes ran down her flushed face, down her heaving chest, and passed over her rumpled school skirt.

"Lift up your skirt," he commanded in a low voice.

Hermione's eyes widened a bit, and her fists clenched and unclenched where they held fistfuls of his silk black sheets. Laughing nervously, she struggled to sit up a bit.

"This is a highly unusual detention," Hermione murmured, but Snape didn't pay any attention.

"Lay back down, and lift up that bloody skirt." His black eyes glittered dangerously, and Hermione felt as though she was playing prey to a dangerous predator. No one ever argued with Severus Snape, she knew. She wondered briefly what would happen if she did argue, but decided she didn't want to find out at the present time.

Like a good girl, Hermione slowly lifted her skirt until it was bunched around her hips. Her fingers toyed with the lace of her thong, but Snape lurched forward and placed his hands over hers.

"Mine," he hissed, and she figured at that moment he must really appreciate the design ideas of Muggles, for coming up with the scrap of fabric between her legs. She could barely think at all as he slid the knickers off her in one, swift, fluid movement, and barely paid them any regard as they bunched in his hand. While one hand shoved them into the pocket of his robes, his other caressed her hipbones, his eyes never leaving her most secret area that he had exposed.

Hermione was on the verge of begging him to touch her, when he stepped away a couple feet. She wanted to scream at him now, but didn't dare break whatever lust-obsessed feeling he was exhibiting. She had a feeling she would get what she wanted from him soon.

In a ragged tone, Snape said, "Touch yourself."

Hermione balked, not able to mask her flabbergasted expression. She wanted her pleasure from him, not from herself! She could have that any time she wanted.

She tried to sit up again with a soft whine of, "Severus…"

"Lay back!" he hissed, not moving an inch. Crossing his arms resolutely, he glared down at her. "Touch yourself."

Hermione lay back and closed her eyes briefly before lowering her hand to caress herself. Her fingers roamed through the short curls of her mound, and she moaned a little as her hooded eyes took in the sight of him standing there at the end of the bed. Murmuring his name, she slipped her left index finger into her folds, and found her clit quite easily. Her eyes slipped closed again as she began to rub her finger up and down, writhing around on the bed to get the ultimate feel of her stroking fingers.

"Open your eyes," he insisted on a groan, and she did so, seeing his sexy mouth parted as he breathed harshly.

"Severus, please, I want you so badly," she moaned softly, breathlessly, just like she did every time she touched herself, imagining him in her room. Her finger worked faster, heightening her pleasure. She gasped and writhed, her hips moving up and down, and her breath hitched in her throat as she neared perilously close to her climax, not decreasing the movements of her finger to her clit. Her eyes screwed shut then, and she managed to choke out, "Sev-er-ussss," as she came, her free hand clutching his sheets as a lifeline.

She felt the bed dip, and she opened her eyes as she struggled for breath. Snape was over her, and she could feel his startlingly hard arousal pressing into her thigh even through his clothes as he bent to place kisses at her jaw. He grabbed the hand she'd used to pleasure herself, and sucked deliciously at the finger that had done all of the work in bringing her off.

"Divine," he growled, before crushing her lips with his own, making her gasp in delight. He took absolute control with his tongue, plundering her mouth with passionate fervor as she clutched at his shoulders and rubbed her breasts against his chest.

He jerked back away from her abruptly, and began unbuttoning his frock coat in erratic movements. Hermione inwardly smiled as he cursed and searched for his wand, feeling heady with the knowledge that she had as much control over him as he had over her.

"Bugger me…" he muttered, and shot a glance at her. He appeared even angrier upon surveying her tousled hair and bare lower-half.

"Lost your wand, have you, Professor?" Hermione smirked and slid off the bed, smoothing down her skirt. "For the best, I think. This is hardly appropriate." She moved toward him, stopping only mere inches away to peer up at him.

Snape's eyes went wide before narrowing into slits as he looked down at her. "I don't recall telling you to get up," he murmured silkily.

Hermione eyed him speculatively before turning and heading to his door. "This is for making me do that myself," she announced as she walked out.

It didn't take him long to follow, she noted with another smirk. He was on her almost immediately, following her as she swiftly exited his quarters to come to rest in the Potions classroom once more. As she reached for her schoolbag, Snape's hand shot out to curl like steel around her wrist.

"Miss Granger, as much skilled as you proved yourself to be during the war, I do not believe you'd care to bait someone such as me." His voice was hard, unyielding. The heat rolling off his body seeped into her skin.

Hermione faced him, a sympathetic smile on her lips. "I'm glad you have such a high opinion of yourself, Professor," she said, her voice holding a slight mocking tone that was a faint echo of his usual sneer. "But you don't scare me. And, in fact, I would think you'd know better than to bait me." She placed her free hand at his arm and wrapped her fingers around the wrist in control of hers, yanking him off.

With that, she twirled around and exited the dungeons, leaving a near-to-exploding Snape in her wake.

H~S~H~S

"Hermione! Just the person I wanted to see," Draco greeted her enthusiastically, although if she wasn't mistaken, a faint pink twinge entered his cheeks when he saw her.

"Me?" she inquired innocently, moving around him to face the snoozing Fat Lady.

"Well… actually, no. I didn't think you'd be back yet…" He didn't go on as he saw her eyes pass over him briefly. "I was waiting for a Gryffindor to come by with the password, actually. We," he said, motioning to the hole behind the portrait trivially, "were going to play a rousing game of spin the bottle." Hermione could only assume Draco meant the little grouping of their friends that had grown quite close recently, including Harry, Ginny, Draco, Luna, Neville, Ron, and unfortunately, Lavender Brown.

"How very Muggle of you all," she murmured. "Do you honestly think a random Gryffindor would be giving you the password? They haven't all accepted you as easily as us." She winced, not wanting to bring up painful memories for him. He had defected to their side during the war, but even still, some were not willing to trust him, despite that the Golden Trio did.

"I think you will," Draco countered, a mischievous glint in his eye now.

"Oh?" Hermione played along, raising a brow. "And why would I do that?" She would do it anyway, but she wanted to know what that impish mind of his was thinking.

"Because if you don't, I'll march myself right up to the Astronomy Tower and announce that you and Snape are involved in a torrid tryst!" Draco was looking all-too-pleased with himself, his arms folded across his chest.

Hermione's eyes darted to the dozing Fat Lady, and back to Draco. If looks could kill, Draco would be but a mutilated body on the ground. "Keep your voice down! We're not involved."

"Not according to what I witnessed…"

But Draco didn't have time to torture Hermione any longer. Luna skipped up from behind Hermione and over to Draco's side, placing a kiss upon his cheek. "I just escaped from the Nargles," she told them proudly, beaming at Draco.

Hermione shot Draco a warning look, then spoke loudly so the Fat Lady would hear. "Purple petunias!"

The portrait swung open lazily, and they climbed in, to be greeted by their group of friends in the common room. Ginny waved at Hermione, as did Lavender, who Hermione felt at this point was trying a bit too hard. She waved half-heartedly and headed for the steps to the girls' dormitories, stopping only when Luna's high, dreamy voice rang out.

"Where are you going, Hermione? We need you to have an even amount for the game!"

Hermione was really looking forward to that: everyone there had someone they fancied, save for Neville, who wasn't meeting her eye.

"I'll be back down in a minute," she promised them.

She couldn't very well sit on the floor in her school skirt without wearing any knickers.