A/N: Hello, my lovelies. I think I have finally settled for a name for my readers. Not sure if it is 'Priestesses account' specific or if it will transfigure (see what I did there?) into a name for the followers of my own personal account too.

Well after being berated by my fellow Priestesses for leaving y'all hanging on this story, I decided to update again quickly. Also, being English, it still surprises me that I can 'y'all' in the correct context but I did and I do and it sounds horribly wrong in an English accent but I have no intention of stopping. The habits I pick up from my Southerner Coven members, I swear…

Well, I will not keep you from the goodies any longer, except to say that this chapter is where the fic starts to earn that M-rating I popped on this baby. Enjoy and PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW. I'm a very needy individual who works better with constant praise… also; you never know when a comment from your review could end up in an upcoming chapter. My muse is a complete scavenger. x

Chapter 3

It had been a stressful morning as he had waited for Minerva to finish Hermione's manuscript; now he finally had it and could settle in his large hunter-green leather wingback chair by the roaring fire of his quarters, flickering candlelight illuminating the shadows of the dungeon room and a glass of firewhiskey sat on the side table by his chair, waiting patiently for him to indulge.

Severus took in the scene before him as he approached his lounge area and picked up his reading glasses from beside the glass of fire-whiskey

Perfect. He thought as he settled himself.

As he read the first few lines, he realised this story seemed to begin as a poorly covered version of her life after the final battle…

Kia walked away from The Warren with her head held high. She had had quite enough of Donald and his unco-ordinated, slobbering advances. She realised as she apparated away that what she thought she had wanted as girl, when she had fancied herself in love with one of her best friends, was no longer an accurate description of what she wanted as a woman.

Now, what she yearned for was a lover with practiced hands, knowing eyes and a passionate heart. She longed for the deep, resounding baritone which could vibrate along every nerve ending of her body until it's every inflection of sarcasm, wit and cynicism danced a tango on her clitoris. That sexy, rumbling, disapproving voice had echoed in the darkest recesses of every dream she had allowed to penetrate her mind since the first stirrings of her sexual awakening at just fifteen years old…

The dark, shadows of the dungeon classrooms were the perfect backdrop for her to imagine be slammed against the wall by the intimidating and often cruel Professor of both her waking and sleeping fantasies….

Severus's mouth dropped open as he averted his eyes from the page and grabbed for his drink; mouth suddenly very dry. The girl wasn't even trying to hide who she meant – the description of his voice, the dungeon classroom backdrop. It seemed quite obvious that the most insufferable know it all of the century was currently lusting after her Potions Professor – and the greatest shock of all to Severus was that that Potions Professor was himself.

The more he read, the more he drank and Severus was a skilled speed reader. He actually had a spell which allowed his mind to absorb the information of any text almost instantly but he liked to read this type of literature the manual way.

It hadn't taken too long for Hermione's words to transform from practically autobiographical to pure fantasy and as Severus reached the middle of the story, the bottle of fire-whiskey empty beside him, he had begun to absent-mindedly stroke the fully engorged erection that had formed in his pants to the 'detention-activities' of Miss Kia Range and Professor Russeve Neaps.

His sinful mouth, so sharp when issuing cruel remarks on her long-researched homework, now heated her skin with pleasure rather than ire as he worked his way down her elegantly long neck to her slightly exposed collarbones. She shivered under the slide of his tongue as it licked assuredly between the soft, warm, creamy flesh of her beautiful breasts, each peaking tautly with the arousal and heat that he had flowing through her whole body.

Kia whimpered quietly as his wicked lips closed securely over one puckered nipple his questing fingers finding its twin. Her back arched toward his ministration, thrusting her chest upward into the blissful tension he was coaxing from her.

"More… please…" she whispered on the end of a moan as her own hand guided his lower on her body.

"Please, Professor… I need to feel you… here…" Her words came from her forced as if the pleasure he brought her made every word difficult to release when she felt his warm, long, thin, digits begin to probe into her hot, pink, wet folds…

Unknowingly, as he was so lost in her words, Severus had released his rock hard arousal from its fabric prison and had stroked himself almost to completion. He wondered if Hermione would know if he released himself upon her writing. He could, of course scourgify away the evidence afterward. In the next seconds however, the choice was taken from him as he gasped, grunted and tensed before spilling his seed onto the page to the mental image of Hermione's dripping wet quim being willingly offered to his questing finger.

"Hermione…" he said breathlessly as the last of his seed left him.

The thick, white liquid of his release was splatted across her words as he looked down at them panting.

It took him only a short amount of time to recover himself from the activity of solo-shots he had been practicing since he was fourteen; although he had to admit he had never had such delightful mental stimulation before. He would have to remove his imaginings and store them in vials for pensieve use and later enjoyment.

He read the remainder of the story in just under two hours; a repeat performance of his earlier lack of control happening just thirty minutes before he completed the text to Hermione's description of his fictional self, bending her over his classroom desk and fucking her for all he was worth whilst spanking her softly rounded rear end to a red finish – as bright as her school house celebration banners, her words – before spinning her around to complete himself in giving her an eruption of pearls to decorate her neck and heavy chest.

Once again, he had had scourgify the manuscript of his seed before finishing the story.

"Do you love me?"

Russ's voice was rich and flavourful like warm chocolate truffles. The baritone dripped with sensual promise but also held the desperation of a man whom feared he could never be loved.

"Of course I do, you silly, silly man. There are no words hurtful enough, no deed treacherous enough, no magic dark enough to make the glow you cause in my heart to diminish. I will love you… always."

There was an intense silence as the mystical black depths of his inky irises focused solely on Kia before something settled between them. True acceptance of each other brought a potent warmth which had been missing in their trysts up until now. Finally he accepted her and she relished in it and let it wash over her.

With the descent of his thin, pale but extraordinarily talented lips onto her own, she surrendered to being the vessel of her wizard's pleasure…

"She loves me." He admitted to the now gently burning embers of his fire place.

Placing the manuscript on the table next to his empty glass of fire-whiskey, he removed his glasses and placed them on top of the text, rubbing his nose and closing his eyes against what all this new information – that he was not supposed to have – meant to him. His body was tired from his two sexual releases but his mind was a hive of activity trying to process his predicament – occlumency would be useless against this.

He stood and headed for his bedroom to at least attempt sleep, although he knew it was a fruitless hope. His body, mind and heart were all very synchronised on the point that Severus Snape would have only one consideration for the rest of the night and possibly for the rest of his life: Hermione Granger. Know-It-All. KIA.

A/N: Well, there we are, chapter three is complete. I have succumb to the demands of my coven and granted them this update. Hope y'all enjoy. REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE. I know this type of chanting usually works on Dash, unless I'm chanting SEQUEL, SEQUEL, SEQUEL, about one of her fics. You heard me witch – I want a sequel to Storm. Pllllllllllllllllllease!

Oooo, I almost forgot, just before I vanish into obscurity again, Snow mentioned in her review of Chapter 2 that she was hoping for Hermione's full manuscript to be posted as a story. As it is under the same title as this fic, I offer the challenge to my coven to write it for their take on this title. The only insistence is that the passages I have included in this would be included in yours too. If anyone else would also like to take it on, feel free.

Love and Wizard's Pleasure Blessings

Moon Out! x