Logic told her to stay away from Severus Snape but no spell could make reason override the feelings that kept arising in D.A.D.A. The mere flick of her Professor's wrist when casting a spell brought to mind the image of those adept hands on her body. It was nearing Valentine's Day and the two hadn't truly spoken since the embrace months ago in the empty hallway. In her dreams she could feel the cold stone on her feet while her face was pressed tightly against his woolen cowl. In reality, it had turned out that they parted ways with a mutual silence and a lack for understanding for why things had occurred the way they did. Hermione was determined to keep her focus on the only thing that brought constant reward, her grades. Everyone was in their own little world, Ron was canoodling his overly attached girlfriend, and Harry was brooding over something he wouldn't share but was determined to resolve. Hermione was in desperate need of distraction, without her best friends asking her for advice and tugging her into an adventure her mind was slipping into dangerous levels of fantasy and curiosity that prevailed when homework was complete.
Snape was passing out parchment with the margins filled with red quill ink. Faces of shame and indignation resounded within the crowd of pupils. He was placing a paper swiftly down upon Hermione's workspace when he brushed her hand. It felt as if a static shock had jumped between them when what could only be described as visions created by the mind of a teenage girl had flooded his brain. There they were on the demonstration table with her pink flesh spread out on his cloak. The scene ended as Snape's eyes were locked on Hermione's fearful expression.
"See me after class Miss Granger. It appears that your work on assignments is declining in academia."
She swallowed; her occlumency had a mind of its own. Just why did it choose to show him? Why now?
"Hermione's work is always brilliant!" Ron piped up to Harry, "Just what's the grimy git's problem?"
Hermione desperately shushed him through her flushed complexion. She didn't know what awaited her, but she didn't want it to be anything more threatening.
The students piled out through the two wooden doors as Hermione lingered at her seat. Her knees were too weak to stand.
"Miss Granger." That voice. The baritone echoed in the vacant classroom. "Just what was that?" His tone was harsh yet not scathing. There was a bit of intrigue to it.
"Just like the Potion's Room, Sir." She tried to state calmly but her voice wavered slightly, "When you touch me, my thoughts are transferred to you through occlumency. It seems that now they are seeking you out."
"And, if I might add, escalating at a rather fast pace." Snape stated blankly.
She would have laughed, but her innermost thoughts were on display and being critiqued by the main character.
"Correct." She nodded with a blush.
He placed a hand firmly down upon her desk with a crack. Her head snapped up to look at him.
"These types of thoughts are forbidden in my classroom. Do you hear me?" He spoke strictly.
She was silent. "Yes, Professor."
"Promise me, or there will be penalties." He stared into her.
"I promise." The words fell off her tongue.
"Good." He concluded, "5 points from Gryffindor for your lewd behavior. Now go."
She had made a pact, but could she really control her mind? Not if things kept up the way they did, Hermione thought as she hurriedly exited the classroom.
The encounter had left Snape feeling rather lewd himself. In an odd way, it was a welcome distraction from the woes of Draco and the Dark Lord. Every time that the girl had thrown some sort of disruption his way it was like a form of improper entertainment. It was as if he could step out of his role and into one more suiting, the man he had played in Hermione's daydreams. What was that man like, he wondered. Was he just the figment of her imagination or could it truly be Severus Snape as he was but could never justly be in reality? That Snape was domineering, strong and out to get what he wanted without a care to other parties involved, although he noted little to no resistance of Hermione's character. Snape stopped pacing and came upon a thought. If that was truly Hermione and not a fabrication of the girl's imagination, she wanted him. Not in the playful, sappy, teenage crush kind of way. No, he could feel the desire emanating off of that character like heat from a radiator. He stopped and pictured the true Hermione Granger for a second. He would be unsure of how to respond to the depth of her feelings. Should it be true, he couldn't be happy accepting a young witch as a possibility in partnership. On the other hand, could he be happy letting her go without ever truly experiencing that level of desire? He paused then put an end to his deliberation as he recalled that death followed him around like a shadow. He was in no position to be contemplating a future, especially one with hope. He then vowed the same pact as Hermione; those thoughts were forbidden in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.