...*~*J*~*…

Hermione slept lightly that night. Despite her exhaustion, her cramped position on the bed made it impossible to relax. She couldn't seem to stay asleep for long before she was waking up again to twist her body into increasingly uncomfortable poses. It didn't help that her professor seemed to be doing the exact same thing. Over the course of the night, her little slice of the mattress grew smaller and smaller until sometime around dawn when she finally pulled herself up as far as she could on the bed and pressed her back against the length of the wall. . Somehow, this seemed to do the trick. She was finally out; succumbing to the tug of darkness behind her eyes.

Her dreams were anxious; full of her friends' faces and the classes that were soon to resume. Snape prowled the dungeons, deducted points, and then slipped away to fight the dark lord all alone. Suddenly, she was there with him, tugging on his robes, digging her heels into the ground, begging him to come back home. Home to her four poster bed up in Gryffindor tower, where he was so out of place. She was afraid her friends would see, so she hid him behind her scarlet curtains, and crouched beside him on the mattress. Stretching out, they were crowded into the tiny bed, pressed up against one another. She was staring into his eyes. Dark black eyes that seemed to bore into her soul. And then he leaned toward her and her heart skipped a beat as their lips came together. A sudden heat blossomed deep inside her, and she found herself kissing him back like it was the most natural thing in the world. He was so warm, and his lips were soft, and their contact teased a primal urge somewhere deep inside her. When she pressed herself closer to him, he let out a ragged groan. Desire erupted from a cage somewhere within her, and the unfamiliar emotion was shocking enough to wake her up.

The chilly air of the dungeon bedroom kissed the flush in her cheeks even as she registered her current situation. She caught her breath mid-gasp, suddenly afraid that she might wake the sleeping Potions Master. It wouldn't be difficult to accomplish, in fact, as his face was presently buried between her breasts. For a moment, she was frozen in shock. But as she absorbed the situation, heat pulsed deep within her body. It was a strange sort of anxiousness that she had felt sometime before. But she had never understood what the feeling was. Until now. The dark-haired wizard had one leg pushed between hers and one hand clutching her waist. His face was pressed between her breasts, where his labored breathing fell hot across her skin even through the thin cotton of her shirt. And something else, hard and insistent, was pressed against her thigh. The embarrassed flush that followed this realization only heightened her arousal. Right now, in the blurry uncertainty of waking consciousness, it was so easy to recall her vivid dream. She nearly moaned.

And then, sober reality began to hammer into her brain, reminding her just who this man was, and telling her that such fantasies were unrealistic. Her desire evaporated at the thought, disappearing into the lockbox from which it had come, and leaving behind a cold trail of fear in its wake. What would he say when he woke to find her like this? Humiliation pulsed in her very blood. He had been drunk the night before. He hadn't meant to touch her. And what was worse, there was no way she could slip out without waking him. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. Ohhh.. Damn him! Why did he have to go and get drunk? This is not. My. Fault. Hermione wracked her brain for some way out of this situation. If she pretended to be asleep, would he believe it? He was a spy for Merlin's sake! And yet, if she tried to escape right now, it would certainly wake him. It seemed she had no other options. She would just have to wait it out. Pretending to be asleep. For however long it took. Just lying there… with her professor's face buried in her breasts and his… his… his erection very insistent upon her thigh.

Resigned, Hermione closed her eyes and focused on breathing. One, two, three… maybe if I fall back asleep? Four, five … not bloody likely… six, seven, eight… that was a very odd dream… nine, ten… not… unpleasant… Her mind began replaying images from the dream. Snape kissing her, Snape groaning into her ear. At first she was disturbed by what her subconscious had revealed. Married to him or not, she was NOT supposed to be attracted to Professor Snape. What would her friends think? What would he think? And yet.. well… she was married to him, after all. Was it so bad for her to want to do what they would so soon have to do? …If he didn't find a way around the Law. The thought leeched her rekindling arousal so fast that she opened her eyes. Severus Snape would never want her. He must despise her intensely to spend so much time pouring over legal documents. Suddenly, she was ashamed for having fantasized about him. He would be revolted if he knew.

…*~*J*~*…

The fuzzy mumble of half-forgotten dreams slowly died away in the wake of a piercing headache. His tongue felt like sandpaper, it was so dry, and despair seemed to burn in the core of his soul. So dazed was his hung-over mind that it took him a moment to notice that the soft orbs pressed against his face were not a pillow. He froze. Feeling came back into his limbs, and with it the feel of the slender body pressed against him. And the full, round, firm breasts so soft that he wanted to suck on them. His cock pulsed hard against her leg, but that peak of arousal was answered by an equal stab of misery. It took all of his bodily strength to roll away from the girl. Granger. Another jolt of arousal was followed by a sinking iciness in his chest that made him nauseous.

Breathing hard, he collapsed against the mattress on his side of the bed. It was hard to tell if the girl was awake, but at the moment he didn't care. All he could focus on was breathing and not letting the world spin all around him. This is not worth it, he thought for the hundredth time. Of course, Albus might have a different opinion. Dolohov had expressed some very interesting concerns in his potion-induced haze. It was a wonder they never noticed that Mellotos Elixir contained Veritaserum as well. It had taken years to build an immunity to the truth serum, but inventing his Elixir had been the work of several weeks.

Closing his eyes, Severus focused on breathing. In. One, two, three… Out. One, two, three… Slowly, mercifully, he sank back into oblivion.

When Severus woke up the second time, he was alone. He could tell from the ache in his bones that it was late in the day, but that wasn't unusual after a night of taking potions. He had learned long ago that the after-effects of any potion were equal to and opposite the immediate ones. No matter how much he experimented, nothing ever seemed to change that fact. Perhaps that was owing to his own psychology. When compared to the high a potion could provide, the truth of his real life would always be a low. And his real life was low to begin with.

He groaned. If he had taken the All-Purpose Sober-Up Potion last night, he wouldn't have slept a wink, but the pain would be over by now. The downside of that emergency provision was that the low was immediate, and the result was nearly unbearable. A gradual re-introduction to reality was always preferable when it wasn't a matter of life or death. Of course, it had been a risk, coming back to Granger in that state. He froze. Granger. He had woken up that morning with her breasts in his face. He groaned. The immediate arousal was accompanied by a stab of self-loathing at the thought. He pulled a hand down his face in humiliation. At the time, he had not bothered to take note of her state of consciousness, but now it seemed obvious that she couldn't possibly have been asleep.

Severus avoided Granger for the remainder of the day. The rest of the brats would be showing up soon, and he already had a headache. Albus did nothing to help that, of course, but the Headmaster was pleased with the information he presented. Well, at least his misery wouldn't be for nothing. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember the feeling of peace he had had the night before. But it was no use. Doubt and denial crushed even the slightest glimmer of the emotion that the Mellotos gave so freely. And so he cursed and blamed the world for seeping every happiness away like the pit of despair that it was. Had he not had a crucial role to play, he might have gone back to sleep for good and escaped this world altogether. It was Albus who nurtured the tiny part of him that still cared. The old manipulator knew exactly how to stroke his ego in just the right way to make this whole ordeal seem worth it; if only for a while.

As he approached the Great Hall that evening, the excited racket of happy voices assaulted his attention. Their echoes throbbed inside his mind, behind his eyes, and made him grit his teeth and ball his fists in angry frustration. He would take Lord Voldemort any day over the unmerited excitement of children.

Severus nearly stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of Potter and Weasley. Quelling the instinct, he pressed on, raking his eyes across the Entrance Hall for any glimpse of her. But she was not to be found. That must have been what the two imbeciles were awaiting, for they ran toward him as soon as they saw him approaching.

"Where's Hermione?" Potter demanded.

Severus folded his arms across his chest and lifted an eyebrow in disdain. "Chained in the dungeon, where a good wife ought to be," he drawled, delighting in their horrified expressions.

"You slimy bas…"

"Calm yourself, Weasley. It would be a pity to lose House Points so soon after returning from your holiday."

"Where is Hermione?" Potter repeated, more forcefully. His fists were balled into knots at his sides, and his temple looked ready to burst with the pressure that was building there.

Severus sneered. "She is my wife, not my broomstick. I don't put her away when I'm done with her."

At that, Weasley lunged toward his professor, stopping only when Potter latched onto his robes. "No, Ron!"

Severus was about to tell Potter to teach his dog to heel when Granger suddenly appeared beside him. Her unanticipated arrival made his gut sink sharply as a flush rose unexpectedly to his cheeks. He hoped to all the gods she had not heard what he'd said to the boys.

But the girl only seemed excited to see her friends. "Harry! Ron" she greeted, throwing her arms around the boys each in turn. Severus suddenly felt like an intruder upon their intimacy. Normally, this would be his cue to slip away, but he suddenly recalled too vividly the way her breasts felt pressed against him and anger ignited inside him as the boys each held her close.

"Enough," he croaked, rage obstructing his voice. "Granger, you're coming with me."

The girl swung around to face him with a glare and for a moment he was afraid she would decline. But he met her eyes, daring her in a glance to defy him openly, and she finally blushed, dropping her gaze and nodding slightly. "I'll talk to you later," she told the boys. They tried to protest, but she hushed them, stepping past her husband and leading right into the Great Hall.

Given the choice, Severus chose not to enter the Hall in her wake. The last thing he needed was rumors that the Head of Slytherin was being led by the balls. Instead, he took the opportunity to address the insolent brats now glaring up at him with hate. "Like it or not, Miss Granger belongs to me, now," he seethed. "And you will do best not to touch her… ever," he paused for emphasis, "again."

…*~*J*~*…

Hermione was halfway down the aisle that stretched the length of the Great Hall when she realized that her professor wasn't following. Her step faltered, but she caught herself before she stopped and made a fool of herself. There were enough eyes on her, already, without doubling back for her wayward husband. Instead, she lifted her chin, ignored the buzz of whispering, and marched all the way up to the High Table alone. It would seem the school was caught up on the latest bit of gossip involving their least favorite professor and his least favorite student. She had hoped the news would be lost in the onslaught of new marriages that had come about due to the new law, but it was quite a scandal, she supposed. The thought tugged at the pit of her stomach. Merlin forbid Rita Skeeter decide to pick up the story.

When Snape finally swept up to the platform and settled in his seat, Hermione gave him a reproachful glare. "Was that really necessary?"

He smirked. "What? Scolding your little boyfriends?"

"Making me walk up here all alone. What do you mean you were scolding them?"

"I wasn't aware you required an escort."

"Well of course I don't…" she broke off, taking a calming breath. "You know what I mean. Everyone is talking about us."

"Do you imagine they would talk less if we skipped down the hall together, holding hands?"

Hermione had been about to say something else, but froze at the humorous image. There was something very strange about Snape making a joke. It was as if he had flipped a switch. "Pity we didn't plan ahead, or you could have put me on a leash," she quipped.

Snape choked into his water goblet, drawing McGonagall's eye. "Don't tempt me," he growled back in a dangerous voice. Hermione hid a smirk behind a sip of pumpkin juice.

"Good of you to come tonight, Severus," the Transfigurations Mistress remarked acidly, scowling at her colleague. Hermione's interest was immediately piqued.

Snape grimaced. "All those cheerful faces freshly returned from holiday? How could I miss it?" His tone was dry, but Flitwick laughed, and Hermione was surprised to hear him remark on his own infamously foul demeanor. It was as if… he were in on the joke.

"Yes, well," McGonagall's expression was so pinched she might have eaten something sour, "seeing as you didn't bother attending yesterday…"

Rats, Hermione thought. I owe him a Galleon.

…*~*J*~*…

Thank you all so much for your continued support/just for reading my story! Forgive me for taking so long between chapters. I'm back in GA and finally settling into a rhythm, so I should be able to update more often. Plus, life is slower and less chaotic here, so I'm likely to be more inspired to write. The City, as great as it is, is not my ideal creative environment. Maybe for others; not for me. SO a SPECIAL thank you to nacy3451, OzmaofOz, The Butterfly Dreamer, Favreau, pepperann333, Luna de Papel, Gemini Sister, 09sasha, JM2010, bluebook1496, Viteali Varishta, mama123, Lyra Lupin, Dahlia Rose-Marie, shocabo, LoveInTheBattleField, Blue night fairy, meg527, Jennydownes3, just an anon reader, articcat621, Mel, kaida171, Phyllidia, BlueWater5, Shelle007, Ante162, lornabrownie, Darlene, bookworm661, Hannoie, Mikena, lunarose87, Bluebeast73, EyeOfSerpent, TimeyWimeyBadWolf, DutchGirl01, Perry Downing, PurpleFlowers305, giada, ahemmeri, marianna79, Dentelle, Brightki, marzipan4, Petite Mule, rivruskende, viola1701e, Sassyluv, incoherentlove, Fantomette34, IShouldBeWritingSomethingElse, Simona Polle, RhodaBush, Amarenima Redwood, doctor odes, and several Guests for Reviewing my last chapter! Your comments really help me stay on track. And a few of you actually PMed me over the last few weeks. I really appreciate it, guys. When I take too long between chapters, I start to feel like people won't even notice if I don't post again, so it's really nice to see that y'all really are interested in my story. I hope you liked this chapter! I'd love to hear your thoughts.

LOVE

:} llorolalluvia