Disclaimer: I don't own much of this.

Hermione was up in her dormitory, completing her History of Magic notes, whilst keeping an eye on the time as she knew she couldn't afford to be late to this detention. Her first detention. And to think she had ever stood up for that man, encouraged Ron and Harry to show some respect for him, despite his obvious disrespect for others. She didn't understand him. She didn't understand how his prejudices could run so deep, and couldn't understand how anyone could fail to acknowledge her intelligence as he so effortlessly did.

It was quarter to 8. Hermione slipped on her robes over her clothes and made her way down to the dungeons, the air becoming distinctly colder the further down she travelled. As she reached Snape's office, her fingers were ice cold and numb. She made a feeble knock on the door. Immediately it opened, and Snape's looming figure stood before her. Hermione sighed a little, this was ridiculous. If she wasn't here she would only be in Gryffindor Tower right now doing homework for the man she was facing right now.

"Come in."

Hermione paused a second for him to move back and allow her in, but he did no such thing. She looked up at his face but saw only a blank expression, so she took it upon herself to continue. She sucked in her body as she squeezed past him, but contact was inevitable and she wondered as to why he wouldn't move for her. When she was in he closed the door behind her, but did not yet turn around.

"Well well, Miss Granger. It's about time that you learnt a lesson for failing to keep your insufferable mouth closed." He cast a locking charm on the door, and moved over to Hermione, placing his hand up under her chin and parted her lips slightly with his thumb, his eyes examining her face. This was all done in one swift movement and before Hermione had time to realise what was happening, he spoke again, and Hermione's eyes widened in confusion.

He ran his thumb along her lower lip. "A tempting little mouth though it is."

Hermione still made no move, just stood with her eyes locked on his, mesmerised in her shock. This was wrong! All wrong! What did he mean by that? Suddenly she snapped out of the fixation and jumped back, desperate to distance herself from him, but as she did he took a calm step forwards towards her, and they were now even closer than they were before. Hermione could see her breath, white and crisp against the black robes covering his chest, in the cold dungeon rooom. Snape's face was suddenly but an inch from hers and she turned her head to the side, anxious not to let him see what she was feeling, that she was scared of him. She felt a firm hand at her side, slowly moving up towards her breast, where his thumb caressed it gently and his head moved down towards her neck as if to kiss it, but the contact never came. After a long moment, the hand then travelled back down to her side, where it stopped. Hermione winced as she felt Snape hiss into her ear.

"Not so clever now, Miss Granger? Nothing to say on this subject? For all your quoting of books and opinions, I'll bet you still don't know what it feels like to be touched. You can play eye-tricks with Potter and keep Weasley at your heels, but it's never led anywhere has it? No one actually wants to touch you. And in the end no book will cure that ache between your legs."

His hand moved lower, and despite the layers of clothing she gasped slightly as his fingers moved over her most sensitive spot. This was, apparently, all the reaction Snape needed. He removed his hand from her body and sneered down at her in disgust, before moving back to the door, unlocking it and gesturing her out of the room. "That will be all for tonight Miss Granger."

Hermione looked at him, and then the door, and then back at him, in disbelief.

"But-"

Snaped interrupted her with a stern look. After another pause, she fled the room, trembling as she ran, and did not stop running until she was back in her dormitory. Silently she climbed into bed without even removing her robes, and curled up tight in a ball, her eyes screwed shut. A tear trickled down her cheek. She did not sleep that night for replaying the evening's events over and over in her head.