Disclaimer: I am not the illustrious J.K. Rowling. If I were she, I would not be writing fan fiction. I make no money from this.

A/N: This is written for The "365 Days of Drabbles" Challenge. This is a challenge to write a drabble or one-shot a day for 365 days. Each day will have a prompt that is to be used that day. Most of these will revolve around Sevmione. If you don't like the pairing, don't read. They won't be in any particular order. The prompt for day 9: Obsession.


Obsession

Hermione woke sweating and more aroused than she had ever remembered being before. She was thankful that she cast a silencing charm upon the curtains around her four poster bed. She didn't want to wake the other girls in the dorm with her nightmares and she didn't want their nightmares waking her. Tonight it would have been her moans of pleasure that woke them.

She rubbed her hands over her face. This was getting ridiculous. This was the third time this week she had had an erotic dream involving Professor Snape. Just because she had agreed to be his apprentice and had noticed how graceful his hands were with their long fingers and how muscled his forearms were- Stop it Hermione! she berated herself.

This was becoming an obsession. She loved to watch him work in the lab. She was going down there almost every night to talk about her apprenticeship and help him with some of the potions he would make for the hospital wing. His hands were so smooth in the patterns he had perfected over the years. She loved the way he would roll his sleeves to his elbows and she could watch the muscles of his forearms ripple with his movements. She loved a man's forearms. Damn it! She was becoming even more aroused.

She rubbed her thighs together trying to get some friction to her core. It didn't work very well. She strengthened the silencing charm around her bed and stuck her hand between her stomach and the waistband of her knickers. She used her dream as fuel for the fantasy she used to masturbate to completion. As she came down from the high of her orgasm, she realized it wasn't really enough. She wanted more. She wanted the object of her dreams helping to work her to completion.

She cleaned her hand off with the tissues she kept next to her bed and rolled over to try to get back to sleep. As she started to drift off, she vowed she would have the object of her obsession if it was the last thing she did. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but she had to try.