Hermione did not hear her footsteps echoes off the stone walls. She was on autopilot. It was almost refreshing to complete some sort of mindless task while allowing one's mind to wonder over the more intricate details of life. If she was not making her last rounds for evening call as head girl, Hermione knew she would look up and write the definitions to ancient runes she probably already committed to memory. That or cleaning. Finding the particular place for all her belongings was near therapeutic when she was trying to sort out more complex problems in her mind.
This how how she found herself wandering the halls of Hogwarts alone, and nearly lost. Her feet walked without her knowing consent, and led her to an unfamiliar section of the castle. She was about to change her direction, and trace her loose steps back to her dormitory when she heard the unmistakable heavy footsteps of another person.
Yes, she was head girl. Yes, she was nearly lost in the place she called home since she was eleven years old. No, she would not admit defeat in the face of some unknown observer. And so she continued down the dimly lit hallway, unfaltering in her footsteps for fear it would give away the uncertainty in her mind.
Before she could turn her head, the owner of the accompanying footsteps met her stride down the empty hallway. It was sheer stubbornness the kept Hermione from looking at the face owning her followed footsteps. But she found a certain calm while her heel struck the worn stone with her unknown stranger.
Only abreast of her mystery companion, Hermione started to wonder about her safely. Surely, Dumbldore and his wise predecessors would set various wards about the castle to unsure the safety of underage wizards or witches, as the case may be. Only when the distinctive scent of her companion soothed her nerves. A familiar and somehow exotic scent of masculinity hit her nose and Hermione knew the man walking at her side.
She quirked her view to verify his identity. He ignored her upturned head as she knew he would. He walked at her side, matching step for step and refused to meet her gaze. Only one man could drive her attention with such passion and yet refuse to acknowledge it in the same beat.
"Professor?," she offered in a near sheepish question.
Severus Snape would not accept the offer. He ignored her question and her existence next to him in the same action. Hermione assumed correctly he heard her greeting and did not offer a second for him to refuse. While her mind reeled how to recover, she noticed Snape closed the distance between their shoulders.
It seems as if he was trying to walk more closely to the wall while ignoring Hermione's presence completely. Hermione bit her lip to keep herself from addressing the professor formally. His intrusion on her personal space was not unwelcome, but Hermione felt responsible to keep a respectable distance all the same.
If you asked her to explain the episode step by step, you would be disappointed at her narration. A turn of his characteristic robes, a pull in an almost romantic waltz, and suddenly he had her pressed to the stone wall of a forgotten alcove. Before she could recognize the move, Hermione was pinned against stone castle walls and the man that invaded her dreams. While a small part of her was outraged at his audacity, she did like his swagger. Yes, she was pinned between a rock and a hard place, and she loved it.
Hermione racked her slow-acting brain to create a clever quip. While she tried to think of a clever slice so startle him, Snape took control. He cupped her soft face in his callused hands. Before she could find the words he whispered, "legitimus." and Severus Snape was in her head.
He perused her memories and mind like the welcome libraries of her past. He strolled down various labels and sections in their neat and orderly filing system. Leave it to Hermione to carefully catalog her own mind. Never has Severus walked though such a well-kept catalog and memories to manipulate. It was easy picking.
Chronological seems the best fit and he easily found an aisle dedicated only to him. Imagine his joy when the first memory he uncovered was of Hermione in her third year. After his unmistakable remark naming her an 'insufferable know-it-all'. Hermione felt the pull as his presence as a man. While he shielded her and her friends from the monstrous power of a turned werewolf, Snape put himself first as a sacrifice as need be to protect the students under his charge.
Facing a childhood enemy and closely guarded fear was not easy. It was the unselfish and heroic act that first won Hermione's attention. While his actions were ill-informed in light of certain circumstances, his bravery was none the less noted. Next, he saw Hermione on Victor Crum's arm at the Yule ball. While the strong rugged world-renown qudditch player won her attention on the dace floor, another man standing in the shadows won her heart.
He flashed to another guarded memory in Hermione's mind. He could see some girls in her year sitting by the fire and laughing. Not long after Patilda turned to Hermione and asked "Truth or Dare". Hermione giggled, a small but treasured sound she shared with a select few. "Truth of course" she answered. "Which teacher would you like to bed?" The circle of young girls erupted in laughter as Hermione covered her flaming cheeks. He could see her mind wander to a familiar dream where Snape covered her naked body with his own on a soft bed.
Before he could catch his breath, he found another memory he could not ignore. In it, Hermione lay in her bed enjoying the most inmate parts of herself. Snape recognized the room. A room she occupied with in 12 Grimmald Place. He only spent one night at the hide-out but remembered hearing muffled moans from next door. It was not until now he cared to think who was delighting themselves with their own body. He watched Hermione push a sheet back to expose a bare nipple. A free hand twisted her erect nipple while her right hand was deliciously hidden from view. He could see Hermione was in the midst of self pleasure before she reached her climax and whispered three syllables into the night. "Severus," she managed before pulling the sheet tight to her body and falling asleep.
Snape figured he saw enough. He pulled from Hermione's mind and met her questioning gaze. "Sorry for the intrusion." In all the times he said the exact phase, he only meant it once. "I had to make sure of your intention," He assured.
Hermione leaned against the familiar cold stone at her back. Never in her years as a witch could one properly prepare her for the correct use of the ligitimus charm. While she never gave herself fully to one individual, she imagined the intrusion much like losing one's virginity.
What else is more sacred than the walls of your own mind? Where else can one roam free without the judgment of others? Free to explore your own fesores without restraint? It does no harm to explore feared territory if you are your only guide. And so she looked into the dark eyes of a man that knew her. Hear, mind, and soul. She wanted him to know her body as well. But knowing her mind was enough for tonight.
Snape dropped a key to her palm. "Now that I know you seek me of your own accord, I will allow you the hunt." He let his words soak in before continuing. "The next weekend is a visit to Hogsmead. This key opens a door in the Three Broomsticks. Please do not make me a disappointed man."
While Hermione struggled to make sense of his words, Snape disappeared. She wrapped her neck around an uncomfortable corner to find an empty hallway in both directions. Two days until the weekend and Hermione found she had more to worry about than her ancient ruins homework.