"You're too stiff." He had been watching her for nearly ten minutes. She was going through the motions of several complicated spell combinations that were typically far above the skill level of someone her age. Annoyingly, she was doing well, though still missing the mark slightly. Precision was not something she struggled with, but that was exactly the issue when it came to casting certain magic. She was too precise; mechanical rather than instinctual. "I didn't mean to startle you, Ms Granger. Though you should be more vigilant, especially when alone in the forest. Near dark."

"Professor!" She had whipped around at the sound of his voice. It was clear that she hadn't noticed his presence after all. He could have carried on watching her and she would have never been the wiser. "I know I shouldn't be out here, but-"

"No. You shouldn't." He stepped into the small clearing, though kept his distance from her as he began walking along the treeline. "I think, perhaps, you have forgotten the risks of venturing into the forest."

"I have forgotten nothing, sir. I'm sure you're familiar with, at least, some of my experience out here. I am more than aware of the risks."

"No, Ms Granger. I don't think you are quite aware of all the dangers that could befall a young woman such as yourself." He circled around her, like an apex predator, stalking its prey. Occasional she turned her head toward him, but she never shifted her body. She stood nearly frozen before him. "You'd be surprised who, at this very moment, would be especially pleased to get their hands on you."

"Sir?" She had been particularly on edge since that day in potions. He knew that his reaction had been too obvious and she correctly suspected he might have seen more than she had wanted him to see. From that point on, she tried her absolute darndest to keep those indecent thoughts limited to bedtime, and it was rather endearing watching her struggle; even more so when he conjured the images himself to taunt her a bit. Not that he needed to. It seemed nearly impossible for her to suppress the images when she saw him even without his encouragement. And he relished every last one of them.

"There are worse things than werewolves."

Even now, he could feel her trying to shut down her emotions and remain calm despite the knot of arousal growing in her lower abdomen. "Then it's a good thing I have you to protect me." Her voice was steady, but he caught how her hands trembled, how her breath was uneven.

"Is that what you think?" He appeared behind quickly, causing her to flinch. Impressively, however, she didn't move. She stayed rooted in place and waited for his next move. "What are you doing anyway?"

"Training."

"I can see that much. Why?"

"Kings and Remus promised to help me train over the summer, but they didn't have the time. Which I understand, I'm not trying to complain. They had more important things to do than help me."

"Not when you're the only one in position to protect the boy."

"What?"

"Mr Potter," he clarified. "Regardless of what we all go through to keep him safe, he insists on running off into danger-"

"He does not run off into danger-"

"Thankfully he insists on dragging you along…" His fingers found the hem of her skirt and fiddled with the material. "Like his skirt-wearing bodyguard-"

"I choose to go!" She smacked the cloth from his hand. "And I am not his skirt-wearing bodyguard."

"It might be more beneficial to train you than to waste my efforts of protecting him directly."

"You'd… You'd do that?" She whirled around to face him with overwhelming excitement coursing through her veins. He could see the eagerness all over her; the enthusiasm seeping from her body. If she were to show the same level of ardor when submitting to him, he would be very pleased indeed. "You'd train me?" She gazed up at him with such innocence. It was obvious that he was taking her question differently than she was intending it, but that didn't matter. He had every intention of training her in more than one sense.

"Turn." His left hand lifted to her shoulder, where he pulled it back until she was flush with this body. "Keep your body loose, but don't slouch." He kept his hand there, pinning her shoulder to his lower chest.

He watched her chest rise and fall more heavily, and admired the cleavage from his unprecedented angle. It had been difficult to assess her figure from under the student robes. All he knew really was that she was uncomfortable with her body, but he now had reason to believe that her insecurities were ill-founded. He very much enjoyed the curve of her waist and the swell of her breasts. She, too, would soon learn to appreciate her body through his touch.

Starting tonight.

His hand trailed up and gripped lightly around her neck. She gasped at the sudden embrace, and her left hand shot to his wrist. Her right tried to as well, but he had it already in his grasp.

"Are you going to ask me to stop, Ms Granger?" She shook her head automatically without giving any real thought to the question. "Of course you won't, because you want this, don't you? I've seen it," he whispered against her. "How easy it is to penetrate your mind. I do enjoy watching your body react, like it knows I'm inside of you." His hand left her wrist, confident she wouldn't do anything to dissuade him, and found the hem of her skirt again by gliding up her thigh. "And soon I will be."

"P-Professor," she stuttered. "We s-shouldn't."

"Shouldn't?" He laughed. "You're of age, though you curiously enjoy the idea of me calling you child, and at no point have you come close to asking me to stop and actually mean it. You basically invited me out here."

"I did not!"

"You did! All of the daydreams in class, the wild thoughts you send out. How do you think I found you? You had imagined this very scene tonight at dinner."

"Still…" She obviously thought that telling him to stop was the right thing to do. It was equally obvious that she had no desire to. He could almost smell how excited she was. He could feel her heart pounding against his arm.

She was living for this moment.

"Tell me to stop and I will. Tell me to stop, and I will escort you back to the castle, remove 5 points for being outside after dark and we will never speak of this. But that will be it. No more glances, no more lewd images, none of it. It ends tonight with no second chances." She remained quiet. "Or." His hand tilted her head back, exposing her slender neck to him. "I fuck you against this tree like I know you want me to." He kissed her neck slowly. "I'll escort you back, award you 5 points for a time well spent and-"

"You can't award me points for shagging you! That's bribery! And an abuse of your position as a professor."

He barked out a deep laugh. "Then I will find other ways to reward you." He caught her earlobe between his teeth and sucked on it gently. "Every weekend."

"Really?"

"What will it be, Ms Granger?"

"What do you mean by every weekend?"

"That is self-explanatory."

"I meant…" She thought about something for a moment before continuing. "What did you have in mind? As a reward."

"Your decision first."

She needn't think about it. "Yes." She knew what she wanted.

And he knew what she wanted. "Yes what, child?" She only needed to say it, he needed to hear it.

She shuttered. "Yes… I want you to shag me." He was at an unfair advantage, having literally witnessed her dreams, evidently making note of her preferences, and was eager to put them to use.

"I don't believe those were the words I used. And I think you can ask nicer than that, my beautiful little brown-noser."

"Please, Professor, will you… will you fuck against this tree?"

By the time he had her up against the tree, they were both stripped from their clothes. He dropped to his knees and was enraptured by the sweetest cunt he's ever tasted.

Right before her orgasm crashed down upon her, Severus pulled away and stood again. "I'm going to fuck you now, Ms Granger, and I will be the only one from now on."

She nodded eagerly, desperate to finally feel him inside of her. He lined himself up with her entrance, and as she felt him sliding into place…

It all disappeared.

Instead of whistling trees, there were screaming teenagers. Instead of the cool breeze, the air was stuffy and hot. And instead of the real night's sky above, it was only a magical projection.

The war was over. Hermione returned for her 7th year as one of the few and within a month of learning of her professor's miraculous survival, her innocent curiosities took a lustful turn. It was almost summer now; two more months and she would be gone from Hogwarts until the day she inevitably returned to teach. This meant that for roughly six or seven months, the young Gryffindor had been thinking of her potions professor in the most inappropriate of ways, and in that time she came up with quite a few creative scenarios. That, however, had been different from her other dreams. Something about it was too real and out of her control. Ever since the potions class, her daydreams have varied more greatly and ventured down paths she would never have imagined herself. Sexual acts she had never even heard of. Conversations that made little sense to her. The overall feel to them was arousing, of course, but more serious than the playfulness she preferred when imagining her time with the notoriously stoic man.

That's when it hit her. She wasn't the one imagining them at all.

Her eyes found him immediately. He was staring at her with a smug look, almost challenging her to react.

That fucker was impregnating her mind with images of them shagging.

But why?