She stood on her tiptoes, up on the kitchen counter at Sirius's house, looking ontop of the cupboards.
For a 23 year old, Ron sure did act like a 12 year old sometimes. He had stolen her book and "hidden it somewhere in the kitchen."
She had searched the refrigerator, the cupboards, under the sink and even went through the bin. But still, no book.
So, as gracefully as she could in a skirt, she climbed up onto the counter and looked ontop of the cupboards.
She ran her hand over the top of the wood, making sure that Ron hadn't put some sort of cloaking spell on it.
Severus walked into the kitchen and stopped short.
Hermione Granger was up on the counter, doing something to the tops of the cupboards.
In a skirt.
In a short skirt that he could see directly up.
He could see her thighs, smooth, creamy to the black panties that he wished to god he could tear off with his teeth.
He walked closer, quietly, and heard her muttering about a book. He leant against the counter and looked up. As far as he was concerned, she shouldn't be up that high in a skirt if she didn't want him to look.
She stood on her tiptoes, (he held back a groan) and pushed against the wall to feel for any holes that might hold her treasured book.
With a sigh, she turned, and prepared to step down off the counter onto a chair she had waiting.
But she turned and saw Severus Snape standing, leaning casually against the counter, looking up at her.
With a squeak, she slipped and was, of course, caught by the man himself. He caught her around the waist, so her hands were on his shoulders, her chest in his face, and her feet half a foot off the ground.
He slowly slid her down, until her feet touched the ground, her breasts sliding against his chest, her breath skimming his ear as he brought her down.
She looked up at him and sighed. His hands stayed at her hips, gripping tightly enough so she knew she couldn't leave, even if she wanted to.
Which she didn't.
"Severus?" She whispered.
"Hm?" He answered, distracted.
"Have you seen my book?" She asked.
"No, have you seen my wand?" He asked.
"No, I've looked everywhere for my book and I haven't come across a wand." She answered and tried to step away from him but he held tight.
"Where did you last see your book?" He asked, sliding his hand around to her lower back and making little circles with his thumb there.
She closed her eyes briefly and he heard her whimper under her breath.
She cleared her throat and looked up at him. She pushed away from him hard as she said:
"Ronald STOLE it and hid it in here somewhere. That idiot is always trying to stop me from reading.." She got on her knees and opened the cupboards she had already searched 10 times, and began searching again.
He watched her arse as she leant to the back of the cupboards and clenched his fists as he imagined himself running his fingers up her inner thighs and.. wait.. Weasley?
"Mr Weasley directed me in here after I told him I couldn't find my wand. He said he'd seen it in here earlier." He stood next to her kneeling self.
She backed out of the cupboard and looked up at him, her face conveniently close to his crotch. Again his hands itched to take her head and.. Well, any more of those thoughts and he'd be taking her eye out.
"Do you think he brought us in here on purpose?" She stood and leant back against the counter, watching him closely.
He stood in front of her, pinning her between the counter and himself, and reached behind her, purposely pushing his entire self against her.
He stood back with the bread box, opened it and shook it out, then shut it again. No wand.
"It's a likely theory." He replied, placing the bread box back and staying leaning against Hermione, his face a few inches from hers.
"But.. What ever could he be trying to do..?" He asked her, eyebrow raised.
He watched her lips as she licked them and felt her hands grip his sides.
He supressed the urge to smile as he softly kissed her bottom lip. Assuming she'd probably have a heart attack, or run off, he took it slow, giving her the chance.
But she would have none of that.
She lifted her hand to the back of his head and pulled him into her harder, kissing him deeper.
--
Ron stood at the door and made a face.
Those two kissing was gross.
But it was about time they got those two killjoys distracted.
Ron and Harry ran outside, leaving all their research over the lounge room floor to have a nice, long, uninterrupted game of Quidditch.
