Disclaimer: Not mine, J.K. Rowling's.
Author's Note: See ch 1.
My Night's Dream
I am haunted, but not by a ghost. A simple exorcism would take care of a specter. Nor by a memory. That is what I have a pensieve for. No, I am haunted by the image of a girl in my dreams. No, not a girl, a young woman. A young woman who is driving me to distraction and she is not even present.
Every night, I dream about Hermione Granger. Usually, the dreams are of simple domestic scenes: myself reading a sonnet out loud to her while she listens raptly; her helping me with a particularly complicated potion; the two of us simply having dinner together. Those are always pleasant dreams that leave me wistful in the morning.
What is worse is when my dreams of her become more ... intimate. They usually start innocently enough, with a simple dinner or a walk around the school grounds. But the dreams never remain innocent. Before long, Hermione and I are doing things I cannot even contemplate in my waking life without blushing. Yes, I, Severus Snape, do blush on occasion. I am not ashamed to admit it. To myself, anyway. Those dreams always leave me feeling unbearable longing for hours after I awake.
My greatest worry is that one the other members of the staff will deduce what has been going through my head every night. Albus in particular has been looking at me rather knowingly as of late. The old man is up to something, I feel it. With luck, whatever he is planning will be revealed before the school year starts in a few weeks.
I take it back -- my greatest worry is not that someone will find out. My greatest worry is that these dreams will stop. That is why I haven't reached for the Dreamless Sleep potion -- without these dreams, I have nothing of her.