"Professor Snape, sir? May I speak to you?"
There had been a knock on the door. He had hoped that if he ignored it, whoever it was would go away. Unfortunately for him, the heavy wooden door squeaked open and the seventh year know-it-all of Hogwarts was now standing a few feet from his desk, where he was grading papers.
With a sigh, he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose between two of his long fingers. "I suppose, Miss Granger. Speak," he said in his usual annoyed tone, without looking up.
Hermione cleared her throat and said, "Sir, I wanted to ask if I could possibly get a suggestion from you for an independent research project. I'm not sure if you've heard, but I'm pursuing potions as a career. Any extra knowledge would be of great use to me, I'm sure."
Severus turned his head slightly and stared at the girl… no… young woman to his right. She was still wearing most of her uniform from the day of school. A white collared button-down shirt, a grey pleated skirt, knee-socks and loafers. Her wavy hair hung to her shoulders, framing her face in a flattering manner. She was gazing at him levelly, maintaining eye contact.
With another sigh, he stood up and walked towards a door that most students never even noticed. Hermione, unsure of what to do, merely followed his path with her eyes, waiting for some sign of acknowledgement.
As he pushed the door open, he called out, "What are you waiting for, you silly girl?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and followed after him into his office. Books practically lined every wall and the girl gasped. "Is this your private collection?" she asked in awe.
His eyebrow raised and he nodded before turning to a shelf and skimming his elegant hands along the book spines. He grabbed one and strode to sit at his small desk to peruse the book's contents.
Hermione quietly stepped forward, curious about the book. She stood in front of her professor's bent figure and leaned over slightly to try to read upside down. She could smell the mustiness of the old book, but also… something else. Sandalwood. Professor Snape smelled like sandalwood. How… sexy.
Her scent-musings were called to a halt quite quickly. It seemed she had leaned too far over and her professor had realized her position. His head snapped up and suddenly, Hermione Granger, the insufferable know-it-all, was eye-to-eye with Severus Snape, the greasy git.
Her chocolate eyes crashed into his black eyes and time seemed to stand still.
After what seemed to be hours, Hermione leaned forward, closing her eyes. Slowly, ever-so-slowly, she closed the forbidden distance and found the warmth of his lips with her own. At first contact, Severus stiffened. But as she pressed her smooth, pink lips to his, he lost all rational thought. He kissed back.
Another eternity seemed to pass before the façade of a chaste kiss ended. With a quiet exhalation, they broke apart. Her eyes were twinkling as she implored him for answers.
He could only stare at the girl who had driven him to break all his morals with a mere kiss. Slowly, the half-smile on her face faded; the dazed look crept out of her eyes. A desperate plea for reassurance was gradually consuming her features.
She looked down at the desk and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Professor. I never should have…"
He cut her off by tipping her chin up with a slender finger and engulfing her in a kiss of pure, raw lust. His hunger nearly overwhelmed her. She opened her mouth slightly and felt his tongue meet hers, gently massaging and mingling with her own.
Kissing her professor was nothing like kissing Ron or even Viktor. With them, things were sloppy, rushed, unmemorable. With Severus…a real man… there was confidence, control, experience. This wasn't fumbling around in the common room after hours, or behind the shed at the Burrow. This was real. This was passion.
His hands were resting on the desk, seemingly unsure of where to touch her first. Finally, they decided and tangled themselves in her chestnut hair. She moaned quietly but still audibly. He nearly yelped in surprise at the break in the silence.
Hermione pulled away suddenly. Severus barely had time to open his eyes before he felt her at his side. She put her hand on his shoulder and forced him to lean back. He gave her a questioning look but said nothing.
Without warning, she lifted one leg over him and sat down, straddling his lap. His eyes widened immediately, but any protest on his part was muted by her sweet lips on his again. Her hands closed over his, one moving to support her back, the other to the top button of her shirt.
Severus hesitated. Should he or shouldn't he? Oh Gods, she was moving her hips ever so slightly now. He should.
His nubile fingers undid the first button quickly and he trailed his mouth down her jaw line to her neck, where he slowly, tenderly kissed another moan out of her, louder this time.
Another button down. He could barely see her lacy black bra as his lips were moving along her collar-bone. He was vaguely aware of her motions as she arched back to lean against his desk. He hardly noticed that her hands were running through his long, black hair. He had just showered; he was most definitely NOT greasy.
The rest of the buttons were undone so quickly that it seemed they came apart of their own accord. Her milky-white flesh was enticing; he could spend hours on simply relishing attention to her flat stomach, the velvety skin of her neck, her smooth, round shoulders. She was his own personal goddess.
He kissed down the middle of her stomach and back up, settling on her earlobe. He nibbled gently and she half-whispered, half-moaned, "Professor."
In his silkiest, most sensual whisper, he replied, "Call me Severus, Hermione." He felt her shiver against him when his lips uttered her name, just against her ear. This was getting to be too much for him.
Slowly, carefully, he gathered her in his arms and stood. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he walked to a door on their right. He pushed the door open and she turned to look at their new surroundings.
A dark fireplace in the corner with a leather armchair in front of it. Another bookshelf full of books. A door to what she assumed was a bathroom. And a magnificent, four-poster, mahogany bed draped with a dark green comforter and black pillows.
Carrying her to the bed, he couldn't resist kissing her a few more times. As he set her down, he kissed her once more before suddenly growing serious. "Hermione… I'll ask you this now, before this goes past the point of no return. Are you sure?" he questioned, looking pleading into her eyes for acceptance.
She contemplated for a moment. Secretly, she had wanted this for so long. She couldn't deny herself when she was finally living the moment. After all… what did she have to lose?
As brown met black again, she nodded slowly.
To be continued…?
A/N: Hope you liked… and be sure to leave some feedback. I haven't decided if I want to continue this or not. :-P