A/N: Basically, this story stems from three things: The song "Hands Clean" by Alanis Morrisette, JK Rowlings' statement of not seeing why anyone would want Snape in love with them, and reading too many stories where a schoolgirl Hermione falls for Snape, and he falls back. I really just want to play off the idea that Snape in a relationship with a seventh year Hermione isn't kosher, and while he might be in it for more carnal reasons, it isn't going to be "tru luv."

Thanks also to the group at the lj community realreview for their help in editing, even though it took me forever and a day finally sit down and take their advice.

The characters are JK Rowlings', and the story itself was inspired by the song "Hands Clean" by Alanis Morrisette. And the only warning I really have is a few naughty words and second person p.o.v. (I still don't know how that happened.) Oh and this was written pre-HBP.

Not a Good Man

Ah Hermione. It's so nice to have you in my bed. Even though I'm not in it now, getting caught may be almost worth it just to watch you as you sleep, naked under the flimsy sheet, trusting that you will be safe in my bed of all places.

I hope you know that all of this is your fault. You never knew when to stop. So smart, you made me forget how young you really were. What was I to do? I've never been interested in children and you could never allow yourself to be mistaken for a child. Especially not now, as I watch your nipples harden under that sheet which does nothing to keep out the cold. You look lovely right now, especially since you've finally gotten that hair under control.

You are such a pretty little thing now that you actually attempt to fix yourself up. Sometimes, I'd like to point it out to Potter that I'm the one who is being kept warm at night by your nice little body. That even though I know he watches you- much the same way I do- I know what you look like with your mouth around me.

It's a shame, really, that we can't tell. The look on his face would be priceless.

Of course, we can't tell, my little protégé. You're my student, and sleeping with one's student isn't done. I don't know what caused you to idolize me, what silly daydreams made you think I'd be a good lover, someone to build a future with. Too much Charlotte Bronte is bad for the soul. If you had been smarter, you would have read more of Emily.

But I can't deny that I like how you look at me, and at me alone. You think I have all the answers. You depend on me, as your teacher, as your lover, as someone to teach you things you can't learn in books, whether in potions or in bed.

Someday, you'll be able to say you learned everything you know from me if you wish. I wonder what you will think of us then. Will you still see this as you see it now- an ill fated love affair? Or will you see what it really is? I wonder what excuses you will make for yourself. What will you forget, I wonder.

You don't seem to mind any of the nuisances of reality right now. You ignore what will happen if we are discovered. I almost think you fancy yourself in love. Well dear girl, don't worry, I won't tell anyone. When you grow up as much as you pretend you are now, you'll be happy you were never called upon to defend our relationship like you've stated you would. I can only hope you don't imagine yourself so much in love that you tell someone. That would not be satisfactory at all. I have avoided the gallows so far and would like to continue going on with what little I have.

I am not a good man. But I'm not horrid either, and I would prefer not to be condemned for taking what was so freely offered. And I do believe I enjoyed that offering. It was all nice and sweet, warm and slick, innocence and enthusiasm in one nice little package. I do think, if I were pressed, that I may admit to liking how you idolize me and knowing- that you, little, innocent, needy you, are dependent on me.

You are moving again. I will join you again in a minute, but not quite yet. You are mine for now, and it is entirely your fault. This would never have happened if it weren't for you.

It's a good thing I'm not as evil as they say I am, at least for your sake. If I were a worse man, I think I would be tempted to tell everyone.