Here is chapter two for your indulgent eyes :) behave yourselves, and have fun reading.

Please review, I'd like to know how I'm doing with all this. Thanks for reading!

"I can't believe he gave you detention."

Hermione snapped out of her daydreaming and turned to look at Ginny, who had a formidable frown on her face. Hermione was often thankful that she and Ginny were good friends, because being on the youngest Weasley's bad side was not a safe place to be. Ginny had not hesitated to throw the odd hex at anybody who pissed her off, and was also known for her physical violence when hexing was not an option.

They were on the way back to the common room after dinner, and Hermione had told Ginny she couldn't stay up with her that night because she was going to a detention. They usually stayed up later on Fridays and talked or played cards – Harry and Ron liked to sleep earlier because now that Ron was on the team they liked getting a good night's sleep before Quidditch practice or the match, depending on what was happening that weekend. Ron had never had a problem keeping Harry awake when he hadn't been keeper, but Harry never really cared anyway. But now that Hermione had detention with Snape for five weeks, she knew they'd probably have to move their late night conversations to Saturday night.

Shrugging in response to Ginny's question, Hermione said, "I guess he's just trying to set an example." She'd told her friends that Snape had given her detention for the next five weeks because she'd sworn at him when he asked her why he should help her with her studies, and perhaps it was not reflective of his teaching but of her brains. A pretty good story, if she said so herself. The end of term was in five week's time, and Hermione knew Snape had planned it very well. For all of his flaws, Professor Snape was not an idiot.

Ginny was still fuming. "But you're Hermione…"

"I was aware of that, yes."

"…there's no way you couldn't be getting an outstanding in Potions. I mean, you're smarter than the whole class put together."

"That's not a very accurate measurement –"

"That's so typical of you to say that."

Hermione sighed and gave her a small smile. "Don't worry, Ginny. He won't make me do anything dreadful – I'll probably just be counting newt tails or cleaning desks or something."

"But it's muggle cleaning..."

"I was a muggle for most of my human life," Hermione said with a laugh. "I know how to use a cloth and spray bottle, unlike you."

Ginny grinned. "Shut up."

Leaving her friend in the common room, Hermione wandered back down to the dungeons. She could feel her heart beating at a million miles an hour. She had not been able to stop thinking about last week – Snape had made her feel amazing, she'd daydreamed about him, found herself blushing whenever anybody even mentioned potions or Snape, and had resisted the urge to release the sexual tension that built more every time she saw him in class. She wanted to throw herself at him, but at the same time she wanted to run back to her dorm and touch herself, thinking of Snape.

The thought had crossed her mind more times than she'd care to admit, and she'd struggled to keep her hands away from herself and from Snape. Even if she was aching for it, she had far too much dignity to interfere with herself like that. She always felt deep shame whenever she did, and she managed to avoid any such situations for a very long time – and no suave, smooth, sexy Potions teacher would change that, she thought determinedly.

Now that she was walking towards the dungeons, though, Hermione could feel her skin tingle and her stomach hollow in anticipation. All of her determination to be dignified and retain her self control was wasting away with every step she took towards Snape's office.

And it was still bitterly cold in the dungeons. Hermione wondered if the stone steps emitted coldness, she felt like she was trapped in a huge refrigerator. Not that half of her friends would know what a refrigerator was, anyway…

Suppressing a shiver, Hermione came to a stop outside the heavy wooden door of Snape's office. She raised her slight hand and gently knocked, waiting a moment before Snape's voice called out, "Enter," and the door opened for her.

Hermione walked into the office and her eyes scanned the room for a moment. It wasn't the first time she'd been in his office – she'd had to nick back her potions assignment in third year when she'd forgotten to write half of it (that whole time-turner business just about killed her), though she'd never been there for a detention.

Or a rendezvous, for that matter…

It was a large, mostly round room with gray stone walls, and the shelves on the wall were lined with intricate objects and vials, a number of shelves were full of ingredients that Hermione could only guess at what they were – but she knew they were rare. A Pensieve shimmered in the far corner of the room, tucked neatly between two shelves, and the one flat wall at the back of the room had another door, which Hermione guessed lead to Snape's quarters.

Snape was putting a number of vials on a shelf, having cleared space for them there. It was slightly dusty, but Hermione couldn't blame him. She found it hard enough to keep her own small shelf tidy and she was only a student. He turned to face her, his face impassive, and he said, "Good evening, Miss Granger."

"Good evening, Professor," Hermione said, managing not to stammer, but she daren't say anything else.

"You are incredibly punctual," Snape said, checking his pocket watch. "In fact, you are thirty seconds early."

"Oh, I'm –" Hermione began, but she didn't know whether she was meant to say she was sorry, or whether to simply start small talk. More accurately, she didn't have a clue what to do or say.

"That's quite alright, Miss Granger," Snape said curtly. "You can begin labelling the vials on the bottom left shelf – I have a list here with the names of the potions and the number of the vials. I need you to label each one because they are being sent to the infirmary."

Hermione swallowed, and nodded. "Alright, sir."

She took out her ink and quill from her bag, and Snape waved his wand and a box of labels on string floated over to place itself by the shelf, and Hermione resisted raising her eyebrows at the mundane task. She'd been under the impression that she and Snape would be… well, she didn't think she'd actually be serving a detention. The way he'd looked at her in class yesterday – that had been enough to make her wet just thinking about it. He'd looked at her like that when he'd seen her naked, that burning, possessive desire in his dark eyes. It was overwhelming, and yet here she was, labelling vials.

How annoying, she thought. It's simply annoying. Trust a man to lead you on with all his charms and sex appeal and then just forget that you even existed. What was the point?

There were a number of different potions on the shelf – pretty basic healing potions, as far as she could tell. There were deflating draughts, burn healing potions, sleeping draughts, blood replenishing draughts, and lastly the good old Pepperup Potion, which tasted just as bad as the Muggle cough medicines (but worked quite a bit better, to no real surprise). Hermione let out a small sigh as she began to write out the labels, beginning to sort out the vials into their groups.

It was tedious work, and as she worked, she chided herself for being so stupid. This was just a part of Snape's little ploy to use her. He had made her feel over the moon last week, got her all excited and now he was just going to use her to do all the stupid little chores he didn't want to do. She couldn't complain, he'd given her detention, and if she did tell anybody he was being a wanker, he could always tell them about how Hermione had seduced him…

Fuck, she thought angrily. Fell for the most obvious trap. You're a dolt, Hermione, and you deserve abstinence. Stupid, stupid girl…

As soon as she thought it, she felt breath on her neck and nearly hit the roof, were it not for two steady hands grasping her waist. Hermione felt her heart hammering in her chest and the warm breath that ran over her skin send shivers down her spine.

"Come now, Miss Granger, did you really think I'd leave you to such wearisome tasks?" he spoke, voice low and lips moving across her skin, "You know I have second years to do such things for me."

Hermione's voice almost didn't work at all. "I-I d-didn't think – think that you were –"

"Of course you did, Miss Granger," Snape said, lips now at her ear. "Do you suppose I didn't notice that look of disappointment on your face when I told you to sort out labels? It was quite amusing."

Hermione spun around, still holding the parchment and quill in hand, and as her hair whipped around her face she turned to stare at Snape with a look of disbelief. "Wait, were you – were you messing with me? Professor Snape, dreaded potions master, actually having a joke?"

"You sound so surprised, Miss Granger," Snape said calmly, lifting his hand to brush back the hair from her face, making her lips part slightly. "I'm not completely inhuman."

"That's – that's not what I meant," she said slowly, before a smile split her face. "It's just so strange so joke around, with you."

Snape gave a small smile before Hermione gave him a quick shove, and he stumbled backwards slightly, before frowning questioningly.

Hermione pulled a face at him. "That's for pranking me!"

Before she knew what was happening, Hermione was pressed up against the wall next to the shelf, and all the air was gone from her lungs as Snape crushed himself against her, growling quietly, "Then this is for shoving me."

His lips crushed to hers in a fiery kiss, giving her no opportunities to gasp for air as his tongue delved between her pink lips, dancing with her own intimately. Hermione held his face in her hands, though she could not control what he was doing, and he pulled on her lower back, their hips clashing and Hermione felt a hardness jab into her soft thigh, and she gasped.

Snape pulled away from her lips and took a deep breath, and Hermione found herself gasping for air. His dark eyes bore into her as he rested his forehead against her own, and he said in a strained voice, "Can you feel what you're doing to me, Hermione?"

Hermione felt his words rush through her blood, and she felt as though she was burning on the inside. She could feel his hardness against her, and he slid his hand along her right thigh, touching the soft, smooth skin there.

"Answer me, Miss Granger," Snape said, voice hissing.

"Yes, Sir," Hermione breathed, "I can – I can feel it."

Snape's hand on her leg dragged back down to her knee, where he lifted and hooked her leg around his waist. Hermione took a sharp breath as she felt his pelvis press against her more intimately, and he repeated the action with her other leg and lifting her so that she not standing, only pressed between the wall and Snape, her legs locked around his waist, that incredibly hot hardness pressing into her most intimate region, her eyes at level with his now.

Hermione's chest heaved as she dared to unbutton Snape's cloak, watching it drop to the floor. She could have sworn she almost heard Snape groan as she carefully unbuttoned his shirt, her fingertips scraping against his textured skin. She felt him breathe heavily and he lowered his lips to kiss at her neck, the same frenzied kisses they had shared moments before. Hermione moaned as he sucked at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, as he bit and licked her collarbone, and when Hermione was beginning to wonder where her shirt had gone, she realised that he'd ripped open the buttons as he'd pushed her to the wall, and his hands were already roaming across her exposed skin.

As his own shirt fell open, Hermione felt a certain rush at the feel of her smooth, young skin against his own scarred, textured skin, her soft breasts and stomach pressing into the hard lines of his torso. As Snape took a sharp breath through his teeth, she was sure he felt the same.

As Snape stared at Hermione, he wondered how he'd managed to keep this much self control for so long. It had taken so much effort and an awful lot of self-pleasuring to restrain from going anywhere near her in class, though he longed to touch her thighs when she reached for something high on a shelf, or when he saw the sweat on her brow from a hot cauldron and his mind would wonder what it would be like to see that shine on her skin as she lay beneath him, moaning and crying his name as he pounded into her, her hands clawing at his skin as she held him tight, tight around him…

Yeah. Snape had a pretty rough week.

"I've been waiting all week for this, Miss Granger," Snape said.

Hermione gulped. "M-me too, Sir," she replied, voice quavering.

"Really?" Snape asked, lips brushing against hers as he teased her. He ran his hand along her thigh again, and he watched her eyelids flutter. "Did you think of me in class, think of that desk which you were lying on last week as I made you scream?"

He watched her blushing, watched the reaction of his words. It was too adorable. He wanted to devour her, but he kept talking.

"Were you thinking of my lips on your skin, my hands all over you, my body on yours, Miss Granger?" he whispered. "Or – perhaps another part of my anatomy crossed your mind?"

Her golden brown eyes caught his for a moment, before she looked away, embarrassed. Snape let out a small breath, and he ground his pelvis into the juncture of her legs, and he listened to the small cry she made, biting her lip as she held onto him, her arms around his neck as he pressed himself against her.

"Did you think of what you want me to do to you, Miss Granger?" Snape hissed, the friction of their clothes infuriating him. "Did you dream of all the things I could teach you?"

Hermione did not respond, but only let out a breathy moan. Snape thrust hard against her, and he said, "Answer me, Granger!"

"Ohh!" Hermione cried out, "Oh, yes, P-professor, I couldn't – I couldn't stop thinking of you..."

Her last words came out as desperate words, words she choked on, and Snape kissed her throat again as she writhed against him, and he ground himself against her.

"I think it's time for our second lesson to officially begin, don't you think, Miss Granger?" Snape said, as his lips moved over her heated skin.

"Yes," she managed, "Yes please, Professor…"

Snape let her down from the wall, and held her hand in his own as he walked them to the back of his office, towards the second door. Hermione could hardly make her legs work properly, she was shaking so much. It's much easier to be touched and kissed when you don't have to stand up, she concluded.

Snape opened the door, and let Hermione into his private chambers. The walls were the same gray stone, but there was a rich green carpet on the floor and a huge mirror that lined one side of the room. Snape had a number of cupboards and drawers in this room, but there wasn't much else on display. He had a large couch on the opposite side of the room from the mirror, and in the middle of the room was a large queen sized four-poster bed with a deep green blanket and silver sheets.

Hermione loved the feel of the room. The furniture all felt antique and special, and she eyed the books that sat on a shelf above his drawers. Snape had seen her look at the books and he chuckled as he traced lines on her hip. "Not now, Hermione. We've got more important things to worry about."

As though to prove his point, he nudged his hips forward and Hermione felt his erection press against her lower back, and she took a sharp breath.

"Now Miss Granger," Snape said in his quiet voice, "You're going to learn all about me tonight. I'm going to teach you how to be a good girl, and how to do please me… If you are willing, of course," he finished, moving her hair out of the way so he could kiss the back of her neck.

Hermione shivered, and she nodded. "Yes, sir." She found herself extremely excited and thrilled by what was happening, even if she was so nervous she could hardly speak. No other boy could make her feel this way – but Snape was no ordinary school boy. Snape was not ordinary at all.

Snape moved Hermione towards the couch, where they sat down beside each other. Snape wrapped a hand around Hermione's waist, and he pulled her closer to him.

"Hermione," he said lowly, "I want you to do as I tell you, and I want you to trust me. Okay?"

Hermione paused but she nodded, and gently took her hand in his, and placed it on his thigh. "I want you to do what feels right, Hermione," he said, and Hermione swallowed her nervousness, and after a moment of hesitation, she let her fingertips scrape across the material of his trousers, touching his inner thigh. She watched his eyes close slowly as she moved her hand across his skin, tracing up to where she had felt the bulge before. She shifted closer to Snape, his arm drawing her close, her legs entangled with one of his as she buried her face into his shoulder.

"P-professor," she stammered, as she felt herself shaking, her hand trembling as it hovered above the bulge in his trousers, "I – I don't know – if I can do this."

There was a heavy pause before Snape replied. "Are you scared, Hermione?" His voice was slightly strained, but it was still as smooth as ever.

Hermione tried to find the words. "N-not particularly, Sir," she said, "I'm just – I just don't – I –"

"You don't know how?" Snape asked.

"I'm not sure," she whispered.

As Hermione waited for an answer, she was shocked by Snape's small chuckle as he said, "Come now, Miss Granger, this is not a particularly difficult activity. If you like, I will show you how."

Hermione sighed, relaxing against him. "Thankyou," she whispered.

"After all," Snape replied, as the sound of his trousers unzipping tore through the quiet room, "Isn't this why you're here – for me to teach you?"

Hermione smiled, and she felt Snape take her hand in his gently as he quickly shifted his trousers down his legs a bit, moving on the couch. "Now, Hermione," he said, his face buried in her hair as he spoke, "Let me show you how to make me feel exquisite, the same way I make you feel."

He took her small hand and gently placed it on his erection. Hermione was still hiding in the crook of his neck and she let out a small breath when she felt the warm, smooth and rock hard flesh in her hand. It was so hot, and it felt – it felt large. Daring to sneak a peek, Hermione adjusted slightly and stared out of the corner of her eye at her Potions teacher's large manhood.

Hermione didn't know much about male anatomy, and she knew enough – and she wasn't quite sure how that was supposed to fit in her lady parts. She felt her cheeks heating up at the thought, and pressed herself against Snape even more.

"Explore me, Hermione," Snape said, voice not as even as it had been moments ago. "See what it feels like. See if you can get a reaction," he breathed, his words encouraging and helpful, yet outrageously sexual to Hermione's innocent ears.

Hermione did as he said, and she traced her fingertips along his entire length, watching his hips shift as she touched the tip, and she trailed her fingertip along the head, under the ridge of the head and over the top, and she heard Snape groan audibly.

"Your hands are so soft, Hermione…"

Hermione took this as encouragement and she began to grow bolder, and she wrapped her lithe fingers around his length, slowly moving and twisting her hand around him, listening to the sounds of his breathing.

"You have no idea how wonderful that feels," Snape said breathlessly, "But what I need from you is this…"

Hermione felt Snape's other hand wrap around hers, and he tightened his grip, tightening hers as well, and he moved her hand quickly up and down his cock, pumping his length and letting her do it on her own when he trusted she caught onto the idea.

Snape's chest heaved as he tried to gain his breath, Hermione's small, soft hand touching him so intimately, and he felt himself groan as he tried to stop from thrusting into her hand, but it was near impossible. He felt himself leaking, the pre-cum beginning to spread itself along his manhood as she continued to stroke him, and he tightened his arm around her, clenching onto her blouse with a fist as he hissed, "Don't slow down, Hermione…"

Taking the hint, she sped up, and she felt the small grunts that escaped from his lips with every exhaled breath, and then before she knew it he thrust up hard into her hand once, twice, three times, and then she felt a warm wetness on her hand as he came, slowly thrusting into her willing hand, and she milked him as he finished, a loud groan sounding from the back of his throat as he pulled her so close the breath was squeezed from her lungs.

"Oh, Hermione," Snape exhaled, leaning against her as he finally finished, his voice trembling as he kissed her neck, her cheek, her lips. "You are a fast learner."

"I do my best," Hermione whispered. "Um, Professor –"

"Yes?"

"Do you have a tissue?"

Snape drew back long enough to frown at her condescendingly before he drew out his wand, said, "scourgify," and all the mess disappeared.

"Oh," said Hermione, glancing at her now clean hand. "Well – thanks."

"Oh no," Snape said, "Thank you, Hermione. Thank you for being so eager to learn."

Hermione blushed slightly as Snape left a surprisingly tender kiss on her lips. Looking up at him, she asked timidly, "You're not just using me, are you?"

She didn't ask as though she were attacking him – she asked almost in surprise. She was genuinely impressed that he was being so kind to her, so tender. They both knew he could overbear her and take whatever he wanted, that he could treat her harshly and force himself onto her, but he never pressured her into anything. Hermione knew if she had wanted to leave he would have let her.

"No, Hermione," Snape said, brushing the hair from her eyes. "I am not using you. I want to show you affection in the best way I know how, I want to – appreciate you."

"You could always have put up my grades," Hermione said with a small snort. "That'd be a good way of showing that – eep!"

She squealed as Snape tackled her onto the couch, and he growled, "You are going to get yourself in trouble, Miss Granger," as he leaned over her, face a picture of anger but for his eyes which were dancing with a strange delight she'd never seen there.

"Oh, Professor," Hermione sighed, "I was only joking. I – I'm glad you want to show me – teach me these things."

"Are you really?" Snape whispered. "I have wanted to show you how perfect you are since the day I saw you at Grimmauld Place, your perfect body waltzing around the kitchen, your hair such a beautiful mess, I even wanted to follow around that damn cat of yours, I was so obsessed…"

Hermione looked up at him, pleasantly surprised by his confession. "You were obsessed with me?" she asked, a hesitant smile creeping on her glowing face.

Snape simply kissed her, and then said, "You're far too attractive for me not to be."

Standing up, Snape helped her to her feet and he said, "Same time next week, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked at the floor as she buttoned up her shirt, blushing as she saw Snape pulling his trousers up in the edges of her vision. She looked away.

And then she had a thought – same time next week. Of course. She could hardly stand the thought of another week without Snape, without his hands on her, without his low voice in her ear, their breath mingling as they both gasp for breath… she didn't want that just sometimes. She wanted it all the time… she wanted him so badly…

"Hermione?"

Blushing, Hermione looked up and nodded. "Y-yes, Professor. Of course."

Snape's eyes raked over her half-dressed body, as he accio'ed her sweater from the other room so she could put it on over her buttonless shirt. "If you're well behaved next week," he said nonchalantly, "You might even get another detention on Sunday evening for spilling some very important potions in my collection."

Hermione felt a shiver at the thought – he wanted to see more of her. "Of course, Sir."

It was nine o'clock – it was time to go. Snape left a ghost of a kiss on her lips and he said, "Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Professor," Hermione said quietly, before she left, picking up her bag and quill on the way.