Disclaimer: Please note, this is but a humble fan-fiction. All characters, places, themes etc belong to JK Rowling. I am merely toying with them for my own amusement.

Note: Thanks again to everyone who has read, reviewed and followed/faved - and thank you to TeaPott for the info! I really never expected this to get any interest. Ok, so confession time: I made a grievous error. After rechecking what little information there is in the books on Patricia Stimpson, I noted that she was in fact in Fred and George's year not the year above as I had believed. It doesn't make a vast difference to the story; Tricia's an October baby so she's still of wizarding age when she starts screwing her teacher. ;) And, if anything, it makes it easier for me to write more! But I have made a couple of changes. Just thought I'd let you all know in case you thought something was amiss.

This chapter's a little longer than the others. I got carried away. You'll see why. ;) Enjoy!

Chapter Warnings: gratuitous sexual scenes.

Chapter Four

When Tricia awoke the next morning, it was to a dull ache in her thighs and unpleasant cramps in her belly. For a moment, she thought her erotic dreams perhaps had been real and her body was feeling the consequences of a delightfully rough tryst. However, as she sat up, she knew her symptoms to be of something different entirely and she let out a sound of irritation. It seemed a wild afternoon was off the card for the time being.

She skipped breakfast with her friends in favour of a long, hot bath, which helped to soothe both her ailments and her anger. Then, after donning a much longer skirt than she'd hoped to wear, she made her way down to the common room. Katie and Alicia were sitting by the fireplace, their heads bent over the latest issue of Witch Weekly.

"Hey Tish," Alicia called, a little too enthusiastically.

"Hey," was Tricia's weary reply. She flopped down into an empty chair and the two girls eyed her speculatively.

"What's with face?" asked Katie. "I thought you'd be excited - aren't you meeting with your mystery boy today?"

"Mystery boy?" Alicia repeated, her eyes darting between Katie and Tricia.

"Tish copped off with some boy last night," Katie explained, gleefully. "Although she won't tell anyone who he is," she added, with affectionate exasperation. "My money's on one of the Durmstrang lot. Why else would she be so keen to know where it's going? Long distance isn't exactly desirable."

Alicia managed to look surprised and disappointed and then jealous all in a matter of seconds, which Tricia found a bit ironic; Alicia had worked her way through half the boys in their year, despite professing her devotion to her fellow sixth-year.

"So you're seeing someone?" she asked, in a would-be casual voice.

"I'm not 'seeing' anyone," Tricia replied and she shot Katie a withering look. "We snogged a bit, got interrupted when a teacher walked in, that's all. I'm meant to be meeting him again today but… I got my period."

She scowled irritably. Katie, however, simply quirked an eyebrow.

"Whilst that sucks and all, how does that stop you meeting him?"

"It doesn't," replied Tricia sullenly. "But it does stop me getting what I want."

At ten to three, she began to make her way into the main castle for her 'detention'. She had, for propriety's sake, spent a little time making herself up - her black hair was arranged in tousled waves and she'd made her uniform look as provocative as she could decently manage - but she felt it was something of a wasted effort. Would he be disappointed, she wondered, when she would be unable to fulfill him? Would he be angry? Perhaps he'd turn her away for wasting his time. Or perhaps, she thought with a note of disgust, he'd want to crack on regardless. She could not say she was fond of the idea but that was possibly due to her experiences mostly being with women - maybe it was less unpleasant with a man? She hoped he would settle, for the time being, for his having own pleasure tended to.

Turning these thoughts over in her mind, Tricia was more than a little perplexed by the time she arrived at his office. She knocked on the door and heard him bid her enter. With a hint of trepidation, she let herself in and entered the dimly lit room. It was already darkening outside and the candles that sputtered in their brackets, coupled with a roaring fire, were the only source of light in the dungeon chamber. Tricia was surprised - she'd heard Snape only ever lit his fire for magical purposes. The Potions master himself was seated in a high-backed, leather chair before the hearth and was staring pensively into the flames. He glanced up as she approached him and, for a moment, Tricia felt her usual confidence falter. However, his sidelong glance and subtle smirk calmed her nerves immediately. He raised his wand and the office door locked behind her.

"Very prompt, Miss Stimpson," he praised her, his face impassive. "Now, come here."

He beckoned her imperiously. Tricia frowned; she did not like to be summoned like a pet and were it anyone else she would have refused; as it was him, it only served to excite her more. Obediently, she walked around his desk, stopping mere inches away from where he sat.

"Does this please you, Professor?" she murmured.

He did not answer her right away - instead, he rose from his chair and began to circle her like a vulture, his cool, black eyes surveying every inch of her appearance. Tricia felt her cheeks flush with the beginnings of excitement.

"Satisfactory," he replied silkily, after several moments; Tricia could tell he was smirking, though she could not see his face. "You understand why I have summoned you here, Miss Stimpson?"

"No, Professor," she answered innocently, as he stalked back into her line of sight, pausing in front of her. His expression gave little away but his eyes - and his body - seemed to radiate a powerful heat. It made her pulse quicken in anticipation.

"You do recall your shameful conduct at the Yule Ball last night? No?" he added, for Tricia had shaken her head - for some reason, her voice did not want to work. "How very forgetful of you, Miss Stimpson," Snape went on. "I shall have to remind you."

He lunged like a striking cobra, pushing her roughly up against his desk. Tricia's desire positively burst into flame and their mouths met with equal fervour. She could not understand it but she had never wanted someone so much in her life and the inherent illicitness of what they were doing only added to her sense of thrill. Moaning sweetly, she slid her tongue across his own, relishing the almost electrical jolts it sent through her body and imagining just how much trouble they would both be in if someone saw them like this. Her hands sought purchase on his back, pressing her curves tightly against his thin frame; there was no gown to restrict them this time and she was delighted to feel the beginnings of his arousal pressed firmly against her thigh. The friction made them both moan and his hand tangled in her hair tugged ever more urgently. Tricia's body was positively aflame with sensation: she could feel every hot breath ghosting over her skin, feel the fine silk of her underwear rubbing her sex, and the lace of her bra tormenting her overly-sensitive breasts. She whimpered against his lips. Never before had she wanted sex so badly - it was so unfair!

"Stop," she gasped finally, pushing him gently away from her. "I can't do this now."

"Oh?" panted Snape, his tone one of amusement. "You seem perfectly eager to me."

"Eagerness isn't the issue," she insisted. She turned her face away as he leant in for another kiss. His brows constricted in a frown.

"Then what is the issue, Tricia?" he asked. Tricia winced. Despite the fact that she could quite happily be screwing him right now, the thought of talking to him about her period was mortifying. Her arousal waned a little.

"I just can't," she muttered, blushing. "Not for another five to seven days, at least."

"What - oh. Oh, I see."

He turned away, looking in equal parts embarrassed and disappointed. Tricia's heart sank.

"But," she remedied, quickly, "That doesn't mean we both have to suffer."

She saw him pause and his eyes swiveled back to glance at her.

"Oh?" he ventured simply and she delighted in the return of his customary smirk. Adopting a sultry smile of her own, she slipped off the desk, moving predatorily towards him.

"Of course not, Professor," she purred. "In fact, I think you'll wholeheartedly enjoy what I have in mind."

"And what, precisely, do you have in mind, Miss Stimpson?"

His smirk became coy as he sank back into his chair. Tricia felt a rush of thrill that reignited her desire. She pulled out her wand and conjured up a bottle of absinthe and a single chalice.

"Relax, won't you?" she murmured, pressing a glass of the Slytherin green liquor into his hand. She waited for him to take a sip before planting a steamy kiss upon his lips, feeling the aniseed tingle of the absinthe on her own. The barest of moans resonated in his throat. Tricia began to kiss down his clothed chest and stomach. Part of her still could not believe her luck, could not believe that he was letting her do this. It was illicit and dangerous and thoroughly thrilling and, for some reason, his still being fully dressed only made the whole think more obscene. As her trail of heated kisses made its way past his waist, her intentions became clear and, not at all to her surprise, his objections came quickly.

"Tricia," he called out, challengingly, but the girl ignored him. Instead, she snuck her hand underneath his robes and grasped him firmly beneath his undergarments. The throaty gasp that followed made her own loins quiver with desperate need but she forced her own desire aside.

"What's wrong, Professor?" she asked, innocently. "Don't you want me to?"

She gave him a firm and deliberate squeeze under his robes and was pleased to note a very admirable, very hard girth beneath her fingers. He moaned again, loudly this time, and when Tricia glanced up she met dark eyes dripping with unbridled lust, and noted the faint flush of desire that graced his cheekbones. He said nothing; it was all the consent she needed. Tricia smiled and she lifted the front of his robes just enough to give her access. On her hands and knees, she freed him from his underwear and gave a gasp of delight at the monstrous organ she unearthed.

"Oh my," she murmured. "So it is true what they say about Slytherins…"

And with that, she took him into her mouth. It was an assault on her senses as well as his own. The sounds he emitted as her warm, wet orifice enveloped him were torturous and for all her womanising, the taste and smell of his most masculine regions made her ridiculously hot. It took her a moment to accustom to his size but as soon as she had done so, she began to suck and lick mercilessly, running her well-trained tongue up and around his shaft. He, for his part, leaned luxuriously back in his chair, bemoaning his pleasure as his drink sat forgotten in his hand. She thought, as she sucked on him, how magnificent this powerful cock would feel as he fucked her, how he would surely have her screaming like a banshee beneath his touch and she sucked him all the harder for it. His hips bucked eagerly, matching each thrust of her mouth with a thrust of his own and soon, his free hand began to fist desperately in her hair.

"Stop Tricia," he gasped breathlessly. "No more!"

But his words fell prey to helpless moans, his shaft now impossibly hard as Tricia's mouth coaxed him towards a climax. She knew he was near, knew he could not take much more. It took only a few more vigorous strokes of her slippery tongue and, sure enough, with a sound that was half-shout, half-strangled scream, she felt him come. Hot, salty semen filled her mouth and she swallowed it instinctively, relishing its tingling heat on the back of her throat. She sat back on her heels and watched as the last few waves of his orgasm washed over him. He was a magnificent sight, his face moist with a fine sheen of sweat, his usually pallid skin suffused with a delicate flush. His eyes were closed, his hair wild and his breath came in long, ragged gasps. She felt a rush of pride in knowing that she was the one responsible for his disarray.

"I hope that was an acceptable substitute," Tricia murmured, as she leant against his legs, running a playful finger across his exposed groin. A pearly droplet of ejaculate clung to her fingertip and she lifted it to her lips, licking it clean. Snape moaned hoarsely.

"A perfectly acceptable substitute, Miss Stimpson," he replied, breathless. He took Tricia by the hand and pulled her up into his lap, where their lips met once more. She wondered if he could taste himself on her and whether this aroused him as much as it did her. In his post-orgasmic haze, it was hard to tell. His hands roamed over her body with a languid grace, though the sounds he issued were much more urgent.

They remained that way for a short while, Tricia sitting in his lap, kissing him lazily as he pawed at her curves and murmured words of lewd intent into her ear. It was cruel of him to tease her but she would not deny she enjoyed it. The absinthe she had conjured sat forgotten on his desk - that was until she almost knocked it over in a panic. A bright, silvery something had burst unannounced through the solid wood of the door and bounded up to the desk. Upon coming closer, she could see that it was an ethereal looking bird which glided up to the desk and announced in Dumbledore's voice:

"Severus, I should like to see you in my office when you have a moment. It is a matter of some importance."

Tricia gave a little squeak of alarm and attempted to make herself look decent, though not before the bird had vanished into thin air.

"Relax," Snape assured her. "He cannot see you. It is a Patronus, nothing more. I am surprised you've never encountered one."

His tone was one of amusement, though he did get to his feet, smoothing his robes.

"Not one like that," she muttered, feeling silly. "I didn't take NEWT level Charms."

"A spell worth learning nevertheless," he instructed her and she did not miss the subtle resume of his professional demeanour. "I'm afraid I will have to depart, Miss Stimpson. As you heard, the Headmaster requires my presence."

"Sure," Tricia nodded, and she felt the first, dreaded prickle of awkwardness. This was not an encounter she could ever expected to have to tie up. "So, um, what now?" she asked, and she cursed herself at once for her inadequacy.

"'What now' indeed…" he murmured. A lazy sort of smirk, devoid of his usual sarcasm, spread across his face and Tricia felt slightly emboldened.

"Perhaps it would be better to wait until… things blow over?" she suggested, watching him closely for a reaction. His eyes widened, slightly and he gave her a thoroughly conspicuous once over before meeting her gaze.

"I think I can manage that," he replied. "It will allow me to work up a substantial appetite. Good, then I shall leave it to you to notify me. I am sure I don't need to tell you that discretion is essential?"

"Of course not," Tricia assented, rearranging her tousled hair. He had opened the door and was waiting patiently beside it for her to step out, his dark eyes shining. She ducked out into the darkened dungeon corridor; his gaze was on her the whole time whilst he locked the door behind him with his wand.

"Are you going to escort me back to the tower?" she asked teasingly, as they set off together for the main school.

"As I am headed that way, Miss Stimpson," he responded. "It shall allow me to practise restraining myself in your presence."

Tricia laughed.