A/N: Hello and welcome to all my lovely silent readers and supportive reviewers! As I already told you, chapters are getting shorter. This one, however, will have a longer Author's Note at the beginning. As anonymous reviewers feel the need to flame my story and insult my person, I have a little message to them. If you do not belong to that group of people, do feel free to skip this and plunge right into the story. Enjoy! :)
Hello to all those people out there who feel the need to make themselves feel better by randomly and unreasonably insulting people on the internet who share their work with you, for free. While you appear to bloom under the smoke screen of anonymity like a desert flower in the rain and get some weird kind of satisfaction from denigrating people in their hobby, let me tell you this: I understand that it's tempting to bombard people with mean, meaningless insults that have nothing to do with their work. However, I do not gain money from this. I write merely for my own pleasure and for that of the readers who enjoy my writing. If you are not one of those, I hereby encourage you to please stop reading. If you don't like Author's Notes, please do skip them. There's a reason that I italicize them - yes, so that it's easier for you to just scroll past them and get right to the story! Interesting, huh?
Now, personally, I write for the people out there who can gain some kind of joy from reading my work. And yes, as most other writers, I'm a complete sucker for reviews, because they are pretty much the currency for which I write. I do not gain any money from this, so I appreciate appreciation, as strange as that may appear to you. I do not write for those 'guest reviewers' (read: guest haters) who use this platform to denigrate my work, my person, and my reviewers. While I can take the first two, I will not tolerate the latter. (Just to be clear: I love my 'useless ass kissers', as one particularly insulting guest reviewer called them.) And I understand that I cannot moderate who will be allowed to read my story, so I will instead moderate who can review under the cloak of anonymity. From now on, guest reviews will have to pass by me before they show up under the signed-in reviews. I apologize to all those supportive and/or genuinely constructively criticising people out there. To those who use guest reviews to flame: well, buckle up, jerks. Grow a spine and insult me with a signed in account.
And one last remark to those of you out there who hate Author's Notes: oh, you're actually still reading, even though you know that longer, italicized paragraphs at the top of my chapters mean Author's Notes, and even though I specifically said so just two paragraphs above? Well, guess what - you appear to be just plain stupid if you're still unable to skip this, and there's no way I can help you with that. Please go ask the Wonderful Wizard for a brain instead.
***End of personal diatribe.***
Wednesday, September 25th, 1995
Hermione managed to beg Harry's cloak off him. He had eyed her suspiciously and with more than a little concern in his eyes, but she'd placated him, saying she merely needed it to take a much-needed bath for relaxation. It was no lie, either; she actually needed the cloak to use the prefects' bathroom in peace and quiet after curfew, as Professor Snape had suggested, to practice her Occlumency.
Harry had given in to her plea and granted her the cloak for the night. Hermione wondered how he might react if she were to ask him for it again and again at a weekly interval, but decided to worry about that later.
Slipping into the bathroom late at night, she erected her usual wards and the screen that afforded her an extra wall to shield her from any intruder to break through her security measures. She dropped her bathrobe and discarded her knickers that she'd kept on underneath, placing them with her slippers in just enough distance from the tub that she would not get them wet when leaving the bath.
Naked, she cast one of the spells her roommates had taught her to keep her hair in a bun at the top of her head, intent on keeping her riotous curls away from her face during her exercises. Stepping into the tub, she breathed a sigh of utter contentment as the warm water surrounded her, the plentiful bubbles wafting their gentle pine scent through the bathroom.
Deciding to practice her wandless magic, Hermione waved towards the little bag she had brought with her and to her delight, parchment and quill came flying towards her. Their flight was more than a little bumpy, both items unsteadily making their way through the room, but they arrived safe and dry, and Hermione was proud of herself. Hoping that she wouldn't get the parchment and quill wet, she decided to practice her intentional magic some more, and had the parchment hovering in front and a little above her eyes, the quill poised to start writing.
Hermione rather hoped than knew that she was familiar enough with how ink worked and how it was produced, so when she managed to have the quill write the date on top of the parchment without touching either and without inking, she almost broke out in exclamations of joy. The moment she began to laugh in happiness at her accomplishment, however, the quill began to slip towards the surface of the pool, and she reigned in her excitement in order to keep the items away from the water.
Thinking back on everything Professor Snape had told her about how magic worked, Hermione set to her homework.
Severus stalked the castle. He both hated and loved patrol rounds. Hated, because they were one more much-needed way to spend the time during sleepless nights, thus reminding him of the fact that he lost sleep through his wretched insomnia in the first place; loved, because they were one more much-desired way to pounce on rule-breaking students.
The fifth floor corridor, however, afforded him once more with the tingling sensation of foreign wards.
The girl.
It was well after midnight and Severus was almost proud that she'd listened to him and was now using the bathroom after curfew, rule-breaking little chit that she was. Putting a hand to the door, Severus could feel the hum of magic that guarded it, the slight vibrations that ran through the wood, warning him to stay away.
Without thinking much about it (and what a feat that was, intently not thinking about what he did for once), Severus dismantled the wards, taking care not to trigger any of the multiple alarms the girl had woven into the layers, and stood inside the bathroom. A screen kept him from seeing the pool that the girl was immersed in. Severus assured himself that she would be sufficiently covered in the bubbles that he'd seen in her memory of the first time she'd practiced here, her nakedness thus shielded from his view.
Walking around the screen, Severus laid eyes on the beautiful vixen that was relaxing in the steamy, bubbly water. Her once-more furious curls were piled on the top of her head in a messy bun, probably to keep them from falling into her eyes, and a parchment and quill were hovering above the water. Shooting a look towards where she'd left her things, Severus saw her wand stick out from a pocket in her bathrobe. A single flick of his hand had it flying towards him.
Twirling the slim piece of wood between his long fingers, Severus spoke.
"Late night bath, Miss Granger?"
Hermione gave a shriek when the dark, silky voice reached her ears. She barely managed to grab the parchment, but the quill had already fallen into the tub. Pulling it out, she regretfully perused the now dripping-wet feather and found it to be useless. She laid it down next to the brim of the bath, then placed the roll of parchment next to it, and turned to face her teacher.
"Good night, professor," she greeted him with icy politeness. "I was unaware that your patrols included personally visiting the students' bathrooms."
"My patrols, Miss Granger," her professor answered, "include making sure I find every single student that is out of bed when they shouldn't be. Thus, I found you."
"I am a prefect, sir," Hermione defended herself. "I have privileges."
"Which is why I found you in the prefects' bathroom after curfew, no doubt, instead of a normal bathroom, intended for more common students. But as much as you view yourself above your peers, Miss Granger, you should not make the mistake of thinking yourself above the rules. Have I made myself clear?"
Hermione was confused.
"No, sir," she replied, "in fact, you haven't made yourself clear. I believe you told me just two days ago to practice my Occlumency in the bathroom after curfew, and now you say just the opposite. Which rule am I to follow?"
"My point, Miss Granger," Professor Snape silkily explained, "is that your extensive wards miss the one to block a Homenum revelio. Were you aware?"
Hermione shook her head in the negative.
"No, sir," she answered. "Please, will you teach it to me?"
"That depends," came the little satisfying reply. "Did you use your time well?"
The girl hung her head. Judging from how dry her hair was, Severus was quite certain that she had not yet begun to practice her breathing under water. It was unlikely that the girl had discovered how to extract the oxygen from the bath water and simultaneously keep her mane from getting wet.
"I have not yet progressed to my breathing exercises, sir," the girl confirmed his assessment. "I did, however, get started on the theoretical questions you set me."
Severus merely raised an eyebrow, prompting her to continue. It appeared that in her nakedness, the girl was unwilling to keep her eyes from meeting his, as she usually did. Behind her suspicious and careful glare, he could see the walls she had built to keep him out. Severus was secretly impressed. It appeared that embarrassment improved the girl's control over warding her mind against outside intrusions.
"I believe," the girl began hesitantly, "that at least one of two things needs to be present for underage magic to be detected by the Ministry of Magic. One, the magic comes from outside the underage witch's or wizard's magical core, meaning that either it was performed with the use of a wand or by some foreign source."
Severus nodded. The message that the Potter boy was about to be expelled arrived during a staff meeting in the summer of '92, meaning that he had heard about what happened. The Headmaster had motioned him and Minerva to follow, informed them of how the Ministry was on the brink of sending Potter to trial for his illegal use of magic, and asked the Head of Gryffindor to carry on the meeting without him. Severus had later learned that Potter had, in fact, not been stupid enough to perform magic to levitate a pudding, but rather that an errant house elf had done the deed for him, resulting in the very real Ministry threat that the Headmaster had worked so fast to dispel.
Encouraged by his nod, the girl continued.
"Two, a human is directly involved."
"Why?" Severus asked. "Why specify this?"
The girl worried her plump lower lip between her teeth for a moment, releasing it with a plop, now coloured the very desirable red of a ripe cherry, before answering, "Harry said that in the summer before our third year, he and Fudge only talked about how he inflated his aunt, even though in his rage, he'd managed to have a glass explode a few days earlier. Fudge never mentioned the glass. That is why I believe that this differentiation needs to be made."
"So tell me, Miss Granger," Severus prompted, "to what extent will you be able to practice for 'Remedial Potions' during the holidays at home?"
The girl obviously thought on her answer for a second, but was quick in her reply.
"My relaxation techniques and breathing exercises should be no problem," she said, "as they procure no outward magic. Working on my breathing under water should be alright, as well, as long as I don't do it in the presence of others, which I won't."
Severus smirked evilly at that. No, the girl was probably not one to have others watch her during her baths. He was a little surprised that she had not yet protested against him intruding upon her bath any more forcefully than she had.
"The same goes for writing without ink and without hands, I believe," the girl carried on, bravely ignoring his certainly frightfully looking expression. Severus had no pretty smile, and his smirk was the stuff of nightmares. "As long as nobody sees a hovering quill scrabbling on a hovering roll of parchment, with ink appearing out of nowhere, the Ministry should not register that."
"Not as bad as one might expect from a hex-first-think-later Gryffindor," Severus commented, watching a tick in the girl's jaw twitch at the over-generalization towards her and her House. "Go on, Miss Granger. Can you answer the defence question?"
Had Severus been a lesser man, the glare she shot him might have levelled him to the ground. He was not, though, and thus was hardly moved by her murderous expression that she struggled to morph into a façade of politeness. She failed.
"Considering that intention is the foundation of magic, I would suggest using a Confundus charm against one's opponent."
"And give away to possible spectators that you have an in-depth understanding of magic? I think not," Severus shot her answer down. "Try again, Miss Granger."
The girl gave a sigh that spoke volumes of her barely suppressed rage. The hearty inhale had her chest heave, and Severus fought to visibly check whether his robes properly hid the bulge that tented his trousers as his cock reacted to the sight of a mountain of bubbles rising and sinking back to their original position with the movement of her perfect breasts underneath. Everything was still well hidden, so there was nothing he could actually see of her soft skin that spanned the symmetric mounds that would someday be his downfall, as he suspected. Severus's imagination, however, ran amok, his mind filling with pictures of how else he might make her breasts heave with sighs.
"Start at a lower level, then?" the girl asked, though it appeared the question was more to herself than to him. "Silence them?"
"Better," Severus admitted, "but they still have their wand and are thus very able to tear you to shreds."
"Expelliarmus?"
It was uttered as a question, but between Severus's fingers, the girl's wand gave a slight twitch at the word. Severus was surprised. He'd guessed that the girl was ahead of her peers in more than in intellect, but to have her display her power in such casual a way took him slightly aback. She was probably completely unaware about it, as well.
"Yes, Miss Granger," Severus drawled, "Expelliarmus, indeed. Though if they do not relinquish their hold on their wand, a quick Incendio towards their wand hand will do the trick as well – either they remain stubborn and have their wand burn with their hand, or they will let go of their wand, either letting it fall to the ground or switching to their minor hand, which would at least grant you a small advantage.
"Now, in which order to use these defence mechanisms will depend on your opponent and the surrounding spectators. If you're in a duel with only one opponent and nobody is watching, Confunding and Silencing them in quick succession is a wise move, after which you will be able to either gain possession or dispose of their wand without trouble.
"In a fight where you are outmanned, relieving as many opponents of their wands as possible seems like the right road to take, though you will need to make sure to have and keep the wands outside of their reach, otherwise you are merely wasting your breath.
"Confunding, Miss Granger, will only be clever in a fight that you expect to take some time. In a short fight, stunning them would be better, as a Confundus will disable a person from performing sensible magic for longer than a Stupefy will knock them out altogether. Do keep in mind, however, that a Confunded opponent is still very much capable of performing magic, if skilled to do so with what further limitations you have imposed on them, though what they do perform will appear without reason. You merely rob them of coherent thought for quite some time, but intent they still possess.
"Do you understand, Miss Granger?"
The girl's eyes had widened as his explanation went on, and Severus suspected her fingers of twitching eagerly under the water, desperate to take notes.
"Yes, sir," she answered.
"Very well, Miss Granger," Severus concluded. "I will leave you to your bath then. It appears your intentional magic works quite well without much practice already, judging from your earlier manner of taking notes. Should your breathing fail you today, however, I trust you not to lose too much sleep over it. I expect you bright and prepared to practice more tomorrow after lunch."
"Yes, professor," the girl agreed dutifully.
"And Miss Granger?" Severus called to her before crossing the corner her erected screen offered. "Do surprise me with another colour tomorrow, will you?"
Thursday, September 26th, 1995
It was only the next morning, when she made to transfigure her knickers, that Hermione noticed her wand was gone. She remembered erecting the wards and the screen in the prefects' bathroom the night before, so she must have had it then, but it had not been in the pockets of her bathrobe when she returned to the common room. There had been no need to dismantle the wards, as Professor Snape had torn them down when he entered the room.
And there was the crux of the problem. If it was indeed Professor Snape who had nicked her wand – and who else would it be, really? – Hermione would have to be smart about how to get it back.
Too scared that she might set her knickers on fire if she tried to wandlessly change their colour, Hermione decided on a slightly different fit and cut instead. Satisfied with her magical handiwork, she spent the morning in the library and left lunch early to catch the Potions Master before their lesson of the day began.
Her knock on the door that led to his office was answered almost immediately by the door swinging open. Other than before, Hermione had anticipated the door moving magically this time, and stepped inside when she was called in.
"Good day, professor," she greeted once inside. "I was wondering if I might have my wand back?"
Very smart, indeed, the niggling voice in her mind taunted.
"Your wand, Miss Granger?" came his reply. "Have you lost it?"
"It was taken from me last night, sir," Hermione explained, though Professor Snape knew that himself very well, "and I would like it back, so that I can go about my schooling properly equipped."
The Potions Master smirked.
"And here I was, Miss Granger," he drawled, "thinking that we'd talked about how equipment might hinder one's magical progress, rather than aid it."
"I believe, sir," Hermione shot back, "that I demonstrated last night that I am working on furthering my magical abilities without the aid of tools, but that does not mean that I have mastered everything yet. Besides, although I thank you for your confidence in my learning skills," a smirk crept into her facial expression, and a thunderous look answered her, "I think I remember you telling me just last night that it was unwise to reveal to others what might become an advantage over an opponent in the direst of circumstances. Am I not correct, sir?"
At that, Professor Snape rose from where he had previously been seated behind his desk. Hermione was once more reminded of his tall stature and where the thought might once have intimidated her, it now sent a moisture to the apex in her thighs that had been much easier to ignore in her embarrassment and in the warm water the night prior.
Crossing around his heavy desk, the Potions Master came to stand directly in front of her. Hermione remembered how he'd told her not to meet his eyes, but for once was confident enough to do so anyway. He stood so close that her head had to fall back until her neck strained under the posture. Only then was she able to meet his gaze.
His eyes narrowed at her boldness. Her own stayed wide open.
"Miss Granger," he almost hissed, "with the apparent loss of your wand, have you been able to meet my demands?"
Hermione tilted her head to the side, allowing herself a slightly new angle at which to peruse her professor.
"Why, professor," she asked, "I thought you did not need me to put the answer to that into words. As it is, my willingness to answer that question – or rather, lack thereof – has never kept you from getting the information before. Why be so polite about it today?"
Professor Snape's eyes narrowed for a second in anger, before relaxing to an almost normal state. Only if one knew his gaze so well as Hermione now did, even though she had sought to evade it for so long these past weeks, one could see that suspicion had his eyes slightly tense.
"My my, Miss Granger," he drawled, "aren't we a cheeky little thing this morning. And so confident. I wonder – "
All his wondering did little for Severus, as the wall behind the girl's eyes was stable as only brick stubborn like her spirit could be. He should have known, after she had now twice demonstrated great skill in building her Occlumency shields when embarrassed, that slipping into her mind would be no easy feat where her knickers were concerned.
Severus groaned as the combination of slipping into any part of the girl and finding out more about the nature of her knickers formed inappropriate thoughts and pictures in his mind. His cock sprung to attention as he struggled to reign in his imagination, but it was far too late for that. Severus was hard for the girl.
Easy feat or not, the girl would still be unable to keep Severus out of her head if he set his mind on getting in. Why break her spirits, though, he thought – or rather, why break her spirits that way. After all, he had not been amiss in telling her that there would be other ways of getting information out of prisoners of war. It had merely been his decision to teach her in Occlumency first, but maybe it was time for the nature of his lessons to change.
Stepping slightly to the side, Severus put his hand into the girl's neck and had her bent over his desk in the fraction of a second. The girl gasped, belatedly, one might say, as her robes and skirt (properly shortened, as Severus noticed to his great satisfaction) were flipped over and onto her back, so that her knickers were well on display for him.
Severus experienced a slight shortage of breath himself as he laid eyes on the girl's choice of underwear for the day. The contradiction of the sexy Brazilian cut, so utterly entrancing as it covered barely half of the delicious plumpness that were her globes that it belied the innocent white that was almost as creamy as her skin, had his cock twitch in pleasure. Fascinated as he was by her knickers, he did not dare to even glance at the lace tops of her silk stockings for any length of time, afraid that if he so much as blinked, the miracle that was the girl's magnificent bum would vanish. Unable to stop himself, his hand came to her behind and held one round cheek almost reverently. The smooth fabric caressing his fingertips of thumb and index, in combination with the silken quality of her skin where the rest of his hand rested against her mound, had him suppress a sigh as his other hand mirrored the actions of the first on the other globe. Now standing behind her, Severus had to forcibly keep himself from leaning his crotch into the crevice that he knew would nestle his hardness more perfectly than any woman's backside had ever been able to.
The girl, though no hand in her neck was holding her down anymore, did not move.
He did not know how long they stood like this, her half-lying on his desk, him cupping her lower cheeks as if they were the only thing anchoring him to this world. It was only when he heard the first students entering the classroom next door that Severus managed to free himself from the reverie he had been caught up in.
"I hope you understand, Miss Granger," he spoke so silently it was little more than a whisper, "that with a physically superior opponent, the strength of your mind matters little when they are intent on getting information out of you."
The girl nodded against his desk, turning her head to the side so that she might watch him from the corner of her eye, her reddened cheek – a facial one – ruffling the top few of a stack of student papers Severus had been in the process of grading. Severus was reminded of when they had been in a similar position, so many nights ago, atop the Astronomy tower. She had not looked him in the eye after that, either.
Stepping back, Severus released her. The girl took a moment to collect herself, it seemed, before she rose from his desk, smoothing down her skirt and robes as she stood. When she turned towards him, Severus had her wand in hand, held out to her in a manner that she almost managed to poke her own eye out as she faced him.
"Let that be a lesson to you, Miss Granger," he said.
The girl nodded.
"Thank you, sir," she whispered.
Severus wanted to slap some sense into her that would keep her from thanking him at every single, most inopportune moment she could find.
"Run along now, Miss Granger," he snarled instead. "We would not want you to be late for class, now, would we?"
Coming up: Chapter fifteen, wherein a voice at the back of her mind becomes strangely insistent.