A/N Thank you all for your reviews, hope you enjoy this next chapter:)
She squeaked in shock and in her hurry to find her bearings in the suffocating darkness she tripped over a crate and landed with a hard thud on the cold stone floor.
"Fuck" she cursed, her ankle throbbing.
"Now, what kind of language is that Miss Granger?" the Potion Masters voice weaving through the darkness.
From where she lay sprawled on the ground, Hermione could tell that Snape was somewhere to her left. A lack of sight had meant that all her other senses had heightened and she could smell the wafting scents of the potions ingredients' surrounding her, feel the roughed, dusty ground under her but for the life of her she could only hear the sound of her own breathing which in the dead silence of the dark store cupboard was deafening. The only emotion coursing through her right now was fear.
Fear for herself and fear for what her Professor was going to do to her. Hoping that if she quieted her breathing and moved away from this section of the room he would not find her as easily, she began crawling ever so slowly to her right, as far away from the voice as possible. She had no doubt in her mind that he would find her but at this point all of her courage her house was famous for had deserted her with the light.
Feeling her way around on her hands and knees in the dark was not something Hermione Granger relished. She felt something squish beneath her hand and swallowed the noise of disgust that was emerging. It had been a few minutes since his question and she had no idea where was hiding. Her imagination took over when an image flashed in her mind of a panther stalking its prey. She shuddered. When he got a hold of her now she doubted it was going to be the pleasurable pain that she had begun to associate with her Potions Master. What was he doing in here anyway?
Her question lay unanswered as her head bumped into a solid object. Feeling in front of her with her hands her fingertips lightly touched something warm and soft. Moving her hands upwards there was more heat and was that, fabric? She heard a soft growl and gasped, she had bumped into her Professor! She had been going the wrong way the entire time and from his lack of surprise, he had been expecting her.
Dropping her hands rapidly she couldn't figure out what to do. She knew that the fabric she had felt was the end of his trouser legs, the softness: his polished leather boots. Her panic was cut short when she felt a strong vice-like grip weave itself into her mass of bushy hair. She stilled, her breathing quickened. The hand gently tugged at her hair, knowing almost instinctively what to do, Hermione rose to sit on her knees, her dusty hands resting on the front of her thighs.
The hand released its grip somewhat and it began stroking her hair, she felt the tension in her body drift away, it was pure bliss. Purring, she melted into his touch.
"Good pet" her Professor's voice glided along her skin like the finest silk.
The pain in her ankle completely forgotten now that she was once again the focus of her Potion Masters attention and yet again she felt something growing inside her which caused her moan aloud "Seeeev-russsss"
The hand on her head stilled and the grip strengthened almost to the point that it was painful.
"What did you call me?"