Imaginary Inamorato.

By Kes.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co don't belong to me. Although, I wouldn't mind owning Snape, he can give me detention any time! ;-) *evil cackle and grin!*

A/N: Just to say thanx to my many reviewers. You scared the hell out of me! I was checking my email account, as usual, and suddenly, my account was full of reviews! OMG! Thank you *wipes a tear away, Gwyneth - Paltrow style* I'd only put it up 20 (if that) hours ago! Dear God! You people must like my 'smut with a 'plot' 'a lot.... (wow, that rhymes!)

Oh, and for anyone wondering. 'Inamorato' means 'lover'. Get it? amore = love? Hee hee!

If you have any ideas for helping me with my PWP - WSP (plot, what plot? - with smutty/slight plot), just put it in your review - hint hint!)

~*~

It was finally night again. And her 'Hermione Granger star-pupil side' had had its fix by doing all, and a little bit more, of her homework in 4 hours, straight after dinner in the library (of course) and the Common Room.

And, true to 'that' Hermione, she'd helped Neville with his potions, trying not to smile when Neville mentioned that he was scared that he'd get another detention with Professor Snape. Oh, what I'd do for a *detention* with *him*....

Now, it was 'her' time. The 'Hermione Granger nymphomaniac-extraordinaire side' that no one saw, except for herself of course.

Another letter from her mother, the usual 'How's it going?', laced with double meanings. She hadn't replied yet. That was for studious Hermione. That was for tomorrow.

Not for tonight.

She locked the door to her room with a simple (for her, which probably meant that an Aurora couldn't open it) locking spell, and got dressed in her new 'Victoria's secret' nightgown. Why the hell she'd bought it, she'd never know. But it was an owl-catalogue, so they'd never see her face....hopefully.

As she ran yet another bath - it was nice and relaxing, after 4 continuous hours of work and Neville - she prepared her bed. She fluffed up her pillows the muggle way, and scented her sheets with a flick of her wand, and got out her vibrator once again.

She self-consciously looked around and double-checked the door as she got it out. A bright red blush that clashed badly with the innocent Gryffindor orange ribbon in her hair, crept up her ivory features. She left it on the bed - tucked under her pillow so no one could see it - and got into the bath.

~*~

Severus Snape walked yet again down the Slytherin corridors from the dormitories. Who would ever have guessed that....Crabbe and Goyle....together. He shuddered. The Dark Lord - He practically spat the words out ....wouldn't want them now. That's not exactly his thing.

The girls were Slytherin personified. Dark green lacy undergarments, sleeping seductively, with their left arms stretched out, begging to be burned with the mark of their hero - but the illusion was ruined with the protective charms around each bed, and wands under each pillow.

He found himself rushing to the Gryffindor tower. No matter how hard he tried to justify his actions under the pretence of wishing to sleep - the nightmares alone were proof against that - he knew he wanted to see Hermione. When did that happen? Her name is Miss Granger. Who just happens to be intelligent, gorgeous, seductive, and with the sexual libido of someone under the 4th unspeakable unforgivable.

As he walked through the portrait hole, seeing the occupant looking annoyed - yet again - he slowed his pace. Well, at least they remembered to put out the fire tonight. Although, it was probably the House Elves. As he took the time to glance round the room whilst attempting to lower his heart rate, he saw numerous books and pieces of parchment scattered around, with the odd unfinished game of exploding snap, and a chess board with the pieces frozen in order to shut them up.

Then he saw it.

The cauldron.

It was Longbottom's, obviously. The slightly melted sides, along with the ominous, multi-coloured marks and stains that had been there since Longbottom's early childhood were more effective at claiming its ownership than a name tag.

But there was something wrong.

Or should I say, something right.

He glanced inside the cauldron, and gingerly sniffed it. He saw notes on the floor and picked them up. They were for a somewhat complex sleeping potion. It was right. Everything was right about it. The colour, the texture, the smell.

Under Longbottom's messy, incomprehensible scrawl that somehow passed as his handwriting was a petite, neat script which he instantly recognised.

She'd added corrections to his work, and changed some of the calculations for the potions ingredients. She was helping him! He knew she did it in class, but in her own time? How Gryffindor.

He stopped perusing their belongings, and reluctantly checked the boys room. How interesting. They're sleeping. He thought dryly. He actually wanted one of them to wake up, just so that he could give them detention. But no. They were good. They were Gryffindor.

The girl's dorms were next. This time, a multitude of colours blinded his senses. No allegiance to Gryffindor here. Except for the walls, floor, wall hangings, bed covers, bed curtains....no wonder. They were probably sick of red and orange. God knows he was.

And next. The piecé de résistance. Miss Hermione Granger. Head Girl, Star Pupil, and the most brilliant mind in Hogwarts this year, and many years before and to come. Of course, he'd never tell her that....

~*~

It was so relaxing, her bath. She hadn't realised that she was so tense. Of course, Neville wasn't exactly any help. Although she liked him, and he didn't mean to be such a wuss at times, he was rather tiresome. No wonder Snape was so uptight. I'm rationalising his behaviour! I should be thanking Neville for making him mad. Those black eyes flare up with emotion, and he swishes his cape, and that voice.....

She got into bed, eyes half closed....unaware that someone was watching.

~*~

As he neared her room, he realised that he could have some fun. Snape reached into the dark depths of his cloak, and produced a newly brewed potion of his. An invisibility potion. It was somewhat primitive, but more practical than an invisibility cloak....for reasons he'd test out later. He grinned evilly as he attempted to open the door. It was locked. Ahh, self-conscious at last.... He finally managed to open the door after a series of rather complex unlocking spells. By the time he'd finished, she'd had her bath. He took out the potion, downed the lot, and carefully made his way into the room....

Hermione came out of the bathroom encompassed by a cloud of talc powder, and bits of bubbles clung possessively to what was visible of her skin. Severus licked his lips, his eyes alight with something that had been unfamiliar to him for some years. He looked into the mirror and saw nothing. Good. It's working! He had a few minutes of wondering what the hell he was doing, until she took of her dressing gown and revealed a sensuous deep red nightdress, complete with lace, but no frills. All conscious, non-primal-savage man thoughts retreated to the recesses of his mind.

She looked around the room, and felt eyes watching her. But there was no one. The door was still locked, and she could see nor sense anyone, it was just her belated paranoia.

She lay on the bed, covers just encasing her ankles, Well, I guess it's time to get to work.... it was her first time in a more public setting. What if someone came in? What if McGonagall...? Oh, but wait, she's 'ill'.... she grinned.

~*~

She lay there, on the bed. In a....compromising....position. As she stoked herself for a second time that week, she felt dirty again. Partly for what she was doing, but also because o who she was thinking about. It wasn't right, fantasizing about a teacher, especially if those feelings weren't reciprocated. As the spell on the vibrator began to work, she breathed in sharply, inhaling the scent of her perfumed sheets, and something else.

Severus watched as she began to caress herself, and began to feel the blood rushing down to his groin. God gave men a brain, and a penis, but only enough blood supply to run one at a time, He mused. As he saw her hand lingering towards her breasts, and floating towards her mouth in a somewhat desperate attempt to keep her fantasy 'real', he saw his chance. He walked as calmly as possible towards her, his painful erection in full view if he were visible, and somehow knelt down beside her bed. As she was attempting to control the desires to hold on to the bed, and fondle her breasts, he did one for her.

She gasped as she felt someone's hands on her. It felt nice, in a way, yet eerily creepy. At first she thought someone was with her, but that was impossible, she was the only one there. Must be another part of the spell .... oh "Oh!" She exclaimed.

As his wild, ice cold hands travelled down her midriff, he left a path of barren fire in his wake. Severus used his hand to push and move the vibrator around. It being a muggle device, he wasn't sure of its potential, but attempted to help anyway.

He kept pushing it, writing it, faster and harder into her. Mimicking the act in which he so wished he could fulfil for her himself. But not yet. It was too early.

As she was about to come, he stretched himself along her on the other side of the bed, and expertly moved the vibrator around, whilst simultaneously caressing her breasts whilst she did.

She came, screaming his name once more, and, in an attempt to muffle the arousing sounds coming from her, he placed his hot, moist lips on her own. Too drunk in ecstasy to notice, Hermione gladly followed suit and joined in. She fell asleep in his arms.

~*~

A/N: The "God gave men a brain, and a penis, but only enough blood supply to run one at a time" quote is from, I think, Robin Williams.