She felt as if she'd been making rounds for hours, but it had only been about fourth-five minutes. It was as if time was moving backwards as her thoughts kept transgressing back to the aching between her legs. When she'd left his classroom she returned immediately to her rooms to change her knickers and now her new pair was getting wet from the memory.

Hermione never expected that he'd touch her like that. It had never gone that far before. What they typically did was already so intimate she didn't think either of them needed more, but the way his eyes bore into her like hot, red flame when he began fingering her suggested otherwise.

She was embarrassed to admit, even to herself, that it had been a long time since another person penetrated her with fingers or otherwise. Ever since her and Ron split her attitude of self-reliance certainly got in the way of sex. She didn't think she'd missed it much until now. Fuck was she wrong. When he did that there was an intensity there that she could never recreate solo.

Suddenly she found herself itching to go back to him. She wanted more. She wanted anything he'd be willing to give her. She felt as if she had just found water after spending years wandering the desert and she didn't think the thirst could be quenched that easily. She glanced at the clock in the entryway hopefully and forced herself to think about something else when she realized she still had another hour of patrols.

While she worked, Severus sat in his rooms slowly sipping a glass of Ogden's finest. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass as he wrote in his ledger by the fire. Distraction and denial were the keys to any man's success, and currently he was engaging in both. If he hadn't been forcing himself to do something else he knew exactly where his head would be…

He took another sip as memories from earlier tried to work their way into his brain. Replacing the tumbler on the side table, he dipped his quill in ink and continued to write:

Mustard seed

Turmeric

Poppyseed oil

Lemon balm

Essence of Moonbeam

Starlight

Evening primrose

Salt

He dipped the quill again and added a sideways note to the margin:

Starlight to be harvested on Tuesday the 3rd as supplies will be optimal thanks to the upcoming lunar eclipse.

Severus tapped the quill beneath his list, sloppily dabbing ink on the page as he thought. He tossed back another swallow of his drink and found a clean corner of the page. He needed to keep writing to keep distracted. He began listing things he needed to do about his rooms:

Rug needs cleaning

Embers from fire

Dust bookshelves

Put books back

Change sheets

He paused. Changing his sheets was necessary, but he quickly recalled that it hadn't been done since Hermione's last sleepover. The pillows still smelt like her hair. He grumbled as he put down the ledger beside his glass and made his way to the bedroom.

Severus wondered how he'd let it come to this as he frustratedly stripped the sheets from the bed. When this little engagement began between himself and Professor Granger, he told himself that he would never let it become so intimate. Naturally, as a man with many needs, he wanted the turn her over on his desk and fuck her the first time she'd been exposed to him, but he hadn't. Years had passed and he still hadn't. He had been fighting the urge for years now and was bloody miserable that it had come to a head when all his self control dissolved without warning.

What they did was all distraction; it was stress relief and nothing more. He was happy to help when she came to him all tense and uptight, and left completely satisfied and relax. It made him happy to know he could have that effect on someone, even if the manner by which she came to that was a little unconventional. She had never indicated that she wanted more and he accepted that.

Using his wand, he levitated clean bedding from the wardrobe and he manually tucked it into place; grumbling to himself as he did. He had been happy, happier than he could ever remember being, with their little arrangement. There were no issues in their little arrangement. Suddenly, that all changed.

The damned Weasley letter. The though sped through his head like a freight train. He tossed the pillows back on the bed to sit on the edge. That's when it had changed, he realized. When she had wanted him to care.

Anger flowed through his veins like floodwater. He recalled suddenly that she was the one who had broken the unspoken code. She was loitering outside his door because she wanted support that he didn't offer. Or had he, by letting her sleep in his bed they might? He dragged his hands through his hair in frustration.

Severus steepled his fingers as he thought. Had she expected him to do something with the knowledge that Weasley wanted her back? What was he supposed to do with it? After all, nothing in her personal life was of concern to him. Severus groaned as realization dawned. Even though he'd never felt this way before, they were each other's personal lives and that was never his intent…

Severus opened the wardrobe and found several of her items perched on a shelf. He groaned as the objects took on more meaning than a hairbrush and some clothing ever had before. He shut the doors and stormed from the room. Back in the sitting room, he swallowed the last sip of his fire whiskey before angrily throwing the cup at the fireplace. It shattered into hundreds of little pieces that fragmented the light of the dancing flame.

Suddenly he was exhausted and he fell back into his chair. He stared at the fIre unblinkingly for a long time. His emotions were everywhere and he didn't like it. He wanted her so badly, but he knew this had to be the end of it.

It was just last nine and he knew he ought to just go to sleep and pray that sleep brought the welcomed distracting he so desperately needed. However, just as insistent the thought was as it passed through his brain, and insistent little knock fell upon his door. He froze. Hermione's whispered voice slid through the frame.

"Severus? Severus, please open the door."