The Libidinus Curse. At last she had found it. Hermione buried her nose in the ancient tome, tuning out the sounds of her fellow students teasing each other and being sociable all around her. She had work to do.

Apparently the Libidinus Curse strengthened the part of a person's mind responsible for their libido. Unsurprising. It was supposed to strengthen it to the point that that person could do nothing else until he or she had satisfied that appetite. True copulation with another person would diminish the effects of the curse for a day or so, but there were other ways to relieve the symptoms. Unfortunately for her professor, masturbation could only do so much. It would never fully satisfy the craving and, therefore, would only slightly diminish the effects of the Curse on his mind.

No wonder Snape had been so cranky.

Hermione sat back, rolling the information around in her head. He was obviously treating himself the only way he was able, and it clearly wasn't enough. He was the Order's spy, after all! It was no good for him to be so exhausted all the time. What if he slipped up? He couldn't possibly be doing all he could for the Cause if he was operating at half capacity all the time! What they really ought to have done is find a witch who was willing to treat him, herself, for a while. Of course, that did bring up the dilemma of finding a willing witch who already knew all of his secrets. Tricky.

Snape's words echoed in Hermione's mind. "None of my other students know of my condition. None of them know of the secrets surrounding it; of its implications. None of them are sworn to secrecy about anything that might jeopardize the Cause… That makes you an appealing target."

She gulped. He had definitely been implying that she was a likely candidate. And then… last night… in the Entrance Hall. Her cheeks grew warm just thinking about it. He had practically begged her to come to his rooms with him. He had given her the name of his curse. He must have known she'd look it up. Was he hoping she would come to the conclusion… oh Merlin. The thought of Professor Snape wanting her sexually made a pool of heat collect deep in her belly.

Could she do it? Merlin! She couldn't believe she was actually considering this! And yet… it did make sense. It would solve a lot of problems. It might even help the Cause. And what would she really be sacrificing, anyway? She wasn't a virgin, after all. She'd spent all summer seeing to that. And she already had birth control. Plus, she had to admit, the thought of sex with Professor Snape was kind of tantalizing. He was an experienced wizard, intelligent, perceptive. Just the thought of those dark eyes boring into her… Oh GODS, was she really considering this?

Hermione waited, watching her professor during class the next day. He was a mess. He looked like he'd been tossing and turning all night and just barely managed to roll out of bed in his wrinkled clothes for class. He kept darting his eyes away anytime they came close to landing on her. She knew, without a doubt, that he knew she'd gone and read about his curse. She wondered if he was hoping she'd come to the conclusion she had.

Briefly, Hermione considered speaking with him right after class. But she knew that was folly. If-when-she told him of her decision, there was no telling how he would react. She couldn't risk being late to class.

And so it was that Hermione Granger found herself pacing outside of Professor Snape's office directly after dinner. Technically, these were his office hours, but it was too early in the year for anyone to take advantage of that.

They would remain undisturbed.

Hermione knew that once she entered those doors, there would be no going back. He would know why she had come. But she was starting to doubt herself. Was this really a good idea? Wasn't she playing with fire? Shouldn't she talk to Professor Dumbledore, first?

No. He would surely forbid her from taking the action she was already planning to take. And shouldn't he? As her Headmaster? No, this was in her hands, now. She knew what she had to do.

Hermione knocked.

"Come in," drawled the faintly annoyed voice of her professor. Hermione's heart leapt up into her throat. There was no turning back now.

Professor Snape's eyes flashed when she stepped into his office. He set down his quill. His pupils dilated; his nostrils flared. "What do you think you're doing here, Miss Granger?"

"I… er… well, I was hoping I could speak to you."

"It is unwise for you to visit me alone."

"I know, but... I've been reading about your curse."

"Of course you have. Don't you think I knew what I was doing when I told you what it was called? Clearly, under the circumstances, I cannot be trusted. I must advise you to leave."

"Professor, I'm trying to tell you…"

"Now, Miss Granger. You are fortunate that my… condition… is relatively mild at present."

"But not gone altogether. You're not… treating it, are you? Not properly, anyway…"

Snape glared down at her, his patience clearly slipping. "Get out, Granger."

"No," said Hermione, lifting an eyebrow. "Listen. We can't afford to have you incapacitated right now. Until you can get rid of this curse, you need to treat it. Properly."

Snape lunged to his feet, pushing his chair back with a loud Erck! "Out!" he shouted. "Before I lose my grip."

"No, Professor, you're not listening..."

"Don't you understand?"

"Yes! I do! That's what I'm trying to tell you!"

"Granger… if I have to drag you…"

"I want to help you!"

Snape froze. His jaw dropped and his eyes bulged with alarm. His fingernails dug into the desk, apparently in an attempt to remain in control. "Bloody hell, Granger… I cannot be held responsible…"

"I know, Professor," she murmured, her eyes pleading, sympathetic. "I'm giving you permission."

At that, his shoulders relaxed and his eyes fell closed. "Oh gods," he murmured, shivering slightly. When he opened his eyes again, they had lost their panic and grown darker than ever, boring into her soul. He came around the desk in one fluid motion, his hands going straight to her waist. Hermione gasped as her professor shoved her up against his desk, his eyes flitting across the many parts of her body, his breathing fast and shallow.

"No!" he shouted, stepping away, raising his hands in the air. "Granger, go, now. I won't be able to stop…"

"That's alright, Professor," she whispered, breathlessly, "you need this. I'm here to help."

The last of his resolve slipped away and he closed the distance between them. His trembling hands went under her skirt, pushing it up her thighs, lifting her onto the desk, reaching between her legs. Hermione whimpered. His fingers wrestled with the cotton of her knickers, diving beneath the fabric to probe her experimentally. He slowed. His knees nearly buckled and he let out a harsh, ragged sigh. "So wet," he groaned. Hermione couldn't believe what was happening. She marvelled at the feel of her professor's fingers deep inside her as he fiddled with the buttons of his trousers.

Her heart pounded. He was going so fast. He was out of control. She wanted to tell him to wait, slow down, but she knew it would do no good. And then he was pulling his throbbing cock from his trousers and… oh Merlin! He was huge. Her eyes bulged when she saw it. The tip was swollen and raw and it had a distinct upward curve. She could just see the soft white of his belly, all covered in curly black hairs. Somehow, she managed to feel embarrassed by that intimacy a second before he pulled her knickers aside and began to press against the tender opening hidden there. They both gasped at the contact of flesh on flesh as he pushed the head of his cock past her entrance. Then he thrust himself as far as he could inside of her.

She gasped. He froze, moaning like a man in pain. His hand was at the small of her back, the other on the surface of the desk, and his shoulder was nearly pressed against her face. She tried to breathe. Her body wasn't ready for his length, but it didn't hurt exactly. And then he was moving inside of her, pulling out and thrusting back into her in a slow, savouring rhythm. Hermione gasped, breathing in the oily scent of his hair, marvelling at the feeling of his cock inside her and the unexpected thrill of having her professor fuck her on top of his desk.

Snape got rougher and moved faster as his control slipped away until he was pounding desperately against her, pushing her back against the surface of his desk and leaning over her, bracing himself to drive into her harder and harder. His face was contorted with what might have been pain and he began to grunt aloud as his movements became erratic and his eyes squeezed closed.

He froze above her, his breath catching, his jaw dropping, as he moaned in agonized pleasure, rocking tenderly against her. Then his shoulders slumped and he dropped his head, panting into her ear. And he murmured to no one in particular "Finally."

Hermione's body already ached, but it also throbbed with a need for him to continue. She felt her leg twitch. And then her professor's frame grew rigid and he lifted his head to look down at her. Shock became horror as he stood and pulled out of her with a wet sound that made both of them wince. Then horror became anger as he glared down at the girl on his desk.

"What have you done?" he asked in a breathless voice. One hand had gone to his chest. The other clutched at the fly of his trousers, trying to cover himself from her sight. He backed away.

Hermione pulled her legs together, wincing again at how wet she was down there. She stood up, dismayed to feel her professor's seed dribbling down her leg. "It's okay," she said, trying to sound confident; trying not to show him just how unprepared she'd been.

"Granger, I warned you… I told you…"

"I knew what I was doing! It's okay!"

"No, it's not!"

"Please, Professor…"

"Get out!"

"I didn't mean…"

"Get OUT!"

Hermione startled. She'd never seen him so angry. Her rational mind and her Gryffindor bravery fled, leaving her with only one option: to run.

Her thighs smacked against each other, wet and obscene, all the way to Gryffindor tower. Hermione slowed down enough not to invite questions, but hurried through the Common Room and didn't stop until she'd shut herself away, safe behind the curtains of her four poster bed. And then she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

…

AN: Thanks so much for following my story so far! Please, do me a favor and leave a review letting me know what you thought. Even the one or two word reviews really brighten my day and show me that someone is enjoying the way my story is going and wants me to continue. Thanks!